User blog comment:Guildmaster Grovyle/JLE Role Play, Summer 2015/@comment-27103443-20150727081025

The Gunslinger's cry of anguish slashes through the late afternoon air.

A could of smoke shaped like a pony struggles up a hill. The wind is blowing violently, and it seems that Incubus is barely managing to keep his form together. He is near the top, where a orb of black with red swirls sits. The wind grows stronger the nearer you are to the top. After much toil, Incubus reaches the top. He lunges at the orb and pulls it from the dirt. The wind dies and the sky clears, Incubus laughs his terrible laugh. "The Orb of Conflict...soon I shall unite you with your brother."

He sets off, back down the hill.