AN: Looks like this story will be getting a Mature tag in a couple of chapters. I've written up to chapter 13, and no, I'm not going to dump them all out there for you guys. Main reason why not is because they're still in Draft form, and I prefer finished products.

Anyways, if you like the story, hate it, or have a question, let me know.

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Have you ever been summoned via summoning circle? It's an experience and a half, and I had to go through it on many occasions. This one was my first, and the least enjoyable of them all. Imagine, if you will, having your body sucked into a Void realm of the Abyss. Your entire body would stretch for eons, until it popped out into another realm. This is what happened to myself, and three unlikely people that followed me.

The three that followed were your typical Japanese sort. Black hair and eyes seem to be their standard trademark, and their group looked to be the start of a typical harem. The male, that seemed to be their chosen leader, had a look of naive innocence about him. More than likely, which turned out to be factual, he would become one of those heroes who only sees the good in everything, while oblivious to his female companions' affections. He was also wearing an odd uniform of something, and had so many muted colours, it made me wonder who dressed him that morning. The only visible weapons on him was a sheathed iron sword at his waist, and a wooden buckler shield strapped to his wrist.

One of the females was a mousy little girl with broad rim glasses that was well endowed for one her age, and seemed to cling to the male whilst pushing his arm between her breasts. This one was shy around strangers, and was as sharp as a dull dagger at times, but still shrewd in her dealings. She also had the standard trademark of being a Japanese citizen, and was wearing a dull green robe. There was a wooden staff strapped to her back via sling, but it wasn't remarkable in any way.

The other female was an oddity. Her hair was a vibrant crimson, and flowed down a little past her shoulders. She also had an interesting pair of emerald green eyes that complimented my own. However, she was the athletic sort, was flat as a board, and her entire demeanor screamed "TSUNDERE". Her own outerwear consisted of a miniskirt that showed off almost as much as the older womens' mist linen and a white T-shirt. Underneath her shirt was an obvious looking black sports bra that seemed a bit too tight for her. She also had a pair of thigh high white boots that were laced along the sides, and a pair of weighted, brown gloves that covered her hands. Guess she was the fighter of the group.

Just thinking of this trio of idiots gives me a headache, and we haven't introduced ourselves to one another at this point in time. No, instead, my sword body is stuck inside a white marble floor, and the trio is currently looking around. They were speaking to themselves in an unknown dialect, while some sort of human with green hair and eyes reached down to grasp my hilt. The moment he did so, I used one of my eye-pommels to stare at his odd garb. It was white. What I mean is, the man wore a white coat over a white shirt, and had white pants and shoes. Why?

Half a moment after he grasped my hilt, however, he gasped, let go, and fell onto his rear. The man was clearly frightened by something, and was shouting in an unknown language. Another one appeared next to the fallen, and they began to mutter something. This one, at least, had some sense of fashion. Unfortunately, it was the same style as the other, but wore a brick red coloured shirt. This red shirt, who had the same hair and eye colour as the other, reached down and grasped my hilt. Once he did so, however, he began to mutter something, and I felt a slight rush of energy flow inside my being.

"...ou...me?" There was an odd voice in my head at that moment, and I paid it no mind while one of my eye-pommels looked about the room. "C-n... derstan...me?" There it was again, and I was becoming quite annoyed.

"Can you understand me?" The voice asked, no longer broken, but still very annoying. It sounded as though a deep baritone of a voice was trying to speak over nails screeching across a chalkboard.

I merely glared at the human, saying, "Your voice is annoying."

There was a heavy sigh on the other end, followed by, "I know, don't remind me."

It seems whatever the human muttered had caused me to understand his language. 'Oh joy,' I drawled in my mind at this realisation, 'This is going to be a cliché. I guarantee it.' The person who held onto my hilt, tried in vain to lift me out of my little resting place. This was, until someone much larger shoved him out of the way, grasped my hilt, and slid me out with relative ease. 'Okay, that was rude,' I thought slowly, then intoned, ">."

My eyes on the pommel of my sword self briefly flashed a crimson colour, and the large, brute of a human was still. I had to wait almost an eternity until the man's eyes also flashed crimson, and held me at a more polite stance. He was about to touch the blade, when I warned him her would die if he did so. This confused him for a moment, until I said, "Just hold my blade down, and pommel up so I can see around us."

You may be wondering what is going on, so allow me to explain slowly. In EQ, the Enchanter class is a jack-of-all-trades sort of support class. They cannot heal, but can do everything else to some sort of degree. Charming, mesmerising, lulling, and causing fear to others are, but one of many spells unique to the Enchanter class. They are able to utilise these spells because their highest stat will always be their Charisma. However, each has a time limit within the game. Here, however, there doesn't seem to be one. Well, not one I've found so far. So, for now, I have a brutish thug for a minion, and I couldn't be happier.

The brutish thug, whose name was Brutus, was about 30 cycles old. A cycle there is about 1.5 years Earth time, by the way. With the average lifecycle being about 80 to 90 cycles, one can say 30 is still young. Anyways, the man's entire body seemed to be chiseled from stone, as was his not so handsome face. He had large, beefy muscles, a barrel sized chest, and thick fingers. So thick were his fingers that I had to intone a different illusion called, ">," just to allow him to have a more comfortable one-handed grip. He was grateful for this, but I digress.

His facial features weren't all that much to look at. He had a square head, with a square jaw, and cleft chin. His eyes were beady pinpoints of ocean blue, and his nose was bulbous. There wasn't a speck of hair on his head, nor around his chin, but the rest of his body sure as any made up for that. I swear, the man must have had an ancestor that mated with a bear, his arms were so hairy. His attire seemed to be centered around what the white guy's uniform, but was grey instead of white. At least he will not be breaking the law of wearing white after Labor Day.

I allowed Brutus to swing me around for a time, and noticed everyone seemed to have their eyes glued to us. I guess my turning into a greatsword once he lifted my sword body out was caught by almost every eye in the room. Whoops. After noticing my mistake, a pair of large, opaque doors opened, and some sort of announcer in a jester's bell-cap announced the arrival of this land's king. Everyone from the world knelt down to the scarred man that walked into the room, but I kept Brutus from doing so. This allowed me to keep an eye on the regal being in front of me.

The man wasn't much to look at, but there seems to be a pattern in their males' heads. They were all square shaped in some degree. Some even had a cleft chin, but only the king had a hawk-like beak of a nose. There were some noticeable scars running down his face and neck, and the mane of snow white hair and iron grey eyes were pretty interesting. Although, that spire-like crown that adorned his head was quite eye catching. Yes, I did covet it for a time, but I doubt it would have done much of anything for me.

Anyways, the king took notice of Brutus not kneeling like the others, and slowly shuffled towards him. This caused the man to become nervous, but as he's completely under my control via spell, I didn't allow him to move as all his muscles seemingly screamed, "KNEEL". Alas, he did not, nor could not follow with what his muscles wanted to do. Even when the king was only a few dozen centimetres away, he could not follow through with it.

The man stopped in front of Brutus, and noticed my greatsword body, asking, "Where did this blade come from?" All in attendance had muttered the same thing of it being summoned along with the other three, but was a sword that became this large once Brutus hefted it. The trio were, by now, being ignored as I had stolen the spotlight away from them. The three were only glanced at briefly by the regal being in front of us, then turned back to stare at my sword body. When he tried to touch the blade, however, he became alarmed as Brutus pulled it back.

This action seemed to infuriate the king, even his guards, who had begun to withdraw their swords from their sheathes. One of them went as far as to rush Brutus, trying to take my sword body away from him. However, the man was foolish, and paid for his actions with the cost of his hand, once it touched my blade ever so slightly. The man screamed, as his hand liquefied in front of him, and I had my minion set me down so that he could lop off the other's arm before the poison in my blade could spread further.

It was as he was preparing to lop off the offending man's arm, that I noticed the king had sneakily lifted my sword body up by the hilt, and I became annoyed by it. It seems this person wanted me for his own use, especially after witnessing what had happened. I could even see the greed glinting in the man's eyes, and felt disgusted when he began licking his lips. So much so, I wanted to strike the man away from me. As soon as I felt the urge to hit him, however, we both noticed a strange, translucent mist coming from the pommel of my sword body. The mist slowly grew in shape, until a translucent copy of my towering skeletal body could be seen.

However, others could not see my body, as their eyes were now glued to the screaming man and his rapidly decaying arm. The king, on the other hand, grew pale and watched as one of my pommel-eyes fly up and settle into the right socket of my translucent skeletal body. Ever had one of those out of body experiences? If you had, then you would know only half of what I feel. I could see the man in front of me from two perspectives. One was from the other pommel-eye, and the other was from my translucent body. Suffice to say, it was an adventure in and of itself.

"Human," I growled from both my sword and body, "If you do not wish to die a slow and agonizing death, then I suggest you drop my sword body. Else you would end up as the screaming man there."