[5/09/2014] Server Maintenance
By TheGuy | May 9, 2014
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[SVN 130][4/19/2014] Server Update
By TheGuy | April 19, 2014
- Moved web servers
- Reduce boss health
- Added located corps command
- Arms lore trainable to 120
- Real translations added, use "[chooseculture" to choose your native language, use "[speak Trans" to begin Real Translation mode. Cannot use Real Translation mode with roleplaying languages.
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Chronicles of the lost House Hlaeneldth
By Vharaun | April 4, 2014
Chronicled by: Vharaun Hlaeneldth
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An Olive Soaked Blade
By Orlando | March 29, 2014
Using age old tactics he became proficient and applying and becoming immune to minor poisons. He even would coat his blade in an Olive colored potion that when splashed on him and his enemy would revitalize him while incapacitating his enemy. One swing after the other made him stronger and quicker than he was before. His mind was centered on ending this fight no matter what. It was only a matter of time that he met up with other warriors either training or searching for renowned in these dark caverns. He was getting ready to fight. These warriors were odd, they took sick pleasure in these "hunts" and that didn't sit well with Adair. They were friendly enough, they spared with him, taught him things he wouldn't have imagined. They flung magical curses on him an, other spells and Adair become resistant to these effects as well.
Often times his mind wandered back to his Delia, he wondered if she would be disappointed with him, if she would even recognize him anymore. He couldn't focus on that stuff long he become more and more like the creatures of this land something about the landscape and this world empowered him to do things he couldn't do in his world. He would even notice that old wounds slowly were healing and disappearing it was a strange effect the world had on him, naturally he didn't like it. As he was becoming this new person his armor sadly was not keeping as well. It slowly and surely was gaining etchings and he wasn't entirely sure it wasn't also becoming more malleable. It was time to start looking for new armor he wasn't exactly thrilled about it either.
And so our priest, turned warrior faces a new challenge before seeking to end the score with Methalas once more... Armor shopping.
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Mythndale
By kevin327 | March 26, 2014
"These will be my priorities for the next couple months" merrick mummbles as he sits and contimplates the events in the last few days. He also decides to call on his friend Grim, a fine dwarven crafter, to come and provide services in Mythndaleuntill he can find another craftsman. Merrick also decides to post flyers about mythndale and surrounding lands calling on crafters looking to sell ore and stone and any other wears thay have. Time to get things stocked up he think to himself.
It will take a bit of tie he ponders but it is time to buld Mythndale. he also thinks on who he can send to Narrowhaven to speak with whoever is in charge there, for who knows fredrick could be possesed or maybe ... he has been pressured by forge and his men....who knows, but busines is business and trade routes are needed.
Hopefully one day soon people will come to there senses and realize i did nothing wrong.. till then life goes on and things are going to improve here....and hopefully everywhere else too...
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The Northern Fury
By Big T | March 26, 2014
"How things have changed," he muttered to himself, thinking about the sudden turn of events. He and the rest of the Company now found themselves in a very profitable position within Narrowhaven, contracting out their services for the city's protection. On top of that, Merrick Godfrey had been branded a traitor to the throne, and was effectively banished to Mythndale, on pain of imprisonment. All the while, the man known as the Northern Fury stacked and counted a craftsman's wares.
He thought back to how his life had lead him to this place. He was born a northman, a barbarian as some would call him. His father had been his clan's Chieftan, and Bankenfuere had worked hard to uphold his family's honor. He had made his first kill as a boy, downing the great stag who's pelt he now wore. It was his rite of passage into adulthood, proving he had the heart of a warrior and could provide for the clan. He recalled the glory of his clan and their conquests fondly, doing battle against both man and monster. He remembered their last battle bitterly, reliving the moment he took up his dead father's axe.
His thoughts moved forward in time, to when he first met the Kades, and he laughed aloud. He had been on his own for years, living off the land. What supplies he required he stole from farmers and shepherds, always moving so as to avoid attention or suspicion. At the time of their meeting he had been staying in a mountain cave, north of a small hamlet. He had wrested it from it's previous owner, a cave troll, and was surviving on the deer and wild hogs he could hunt in the area.
It had been obvious he was being tracked and followed for quite a while, yet despite his best efforts, he couldn't shake the pursuit. Finally, he made the decision to stop trying. It was then that he met Doc and Forge Kade. They had been hired to investigate reports of murdered livestock and small monsters in the area. Instead of finding a troll, ogre, or other creature, they found Bankenfuere.
He shook his head vigorously, clearing his thoughts and rattling his antlers. He remembered how astounded he had been that anyone could track him. Now he knew well Doc Kade's prowess as a bounty hunter. When first he joined the Company, it had been out of curiousity. Now he remained out of respect and kinship. In truth, his companions in the Blackfoot Company had become as close to him as his clanmates had been.
Looking out the window again, watching the sun begin its slow, lazy descent to the horizon, Bankenfuere appreciated how good his life currently was. True, the daily tests of honor and courage that foraging and hunting had brought were a thing of the past, but the foes the Company went against now brought much more glory than anything he could have hoped for. Now, he could truly test himself against the best in the realm, man or beast.
As he moved to leave, he glanced at the parchment on Forge's desk, detailing their current contract with Fredrick of Narrowhaven. On the horizon, a line of storm clouds could be seen gathering. There would be plenty of trials and challenges in the coming days and weeks, Bankenfuere knew. And he knew he would be ready for them.
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The New Narrowhaven
By kevin327 | March 24, 2014
When he came to me i had much going on in Myhtndale with the killer running about reeking havoc on the town... and at the time i had no one to look after mythndale in my absence. I explained to the king that i now had a baron to step up and run Mythndale, and the other problems where taken care of and I felt i was ready to step up to narrowhaven. All Fredrick had to do was so no... but instead... he hires mercanaries, and has me thrown out. Is this what the citizens of Narrowhaven have to look forward to?
Merrick makes several copies of this and sets to posting them about Mythndale.. Narrowhaven. and any and all towns in the lands.
They say I committed treason and am worthless, well lets see what the citizens think of how things get dealt with... but be carefull!!! you might have mercanaries knocking on your doors telling you to leave or be jailed!!!
He signed the letters Merrick Godfrey, Duke Of Mythndale , captain of the Narrowhaven guard.
No mercanary has the right to remove my titles no matter how much anyone pays them.
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Squijum’s Return????
By Squijumia | March 20, 2014
Laughter engulfs her as she bounds off into the woods looking for anything that smells like its food. She bounds around listening as people can be heard. She stops to listen is it friendly? Are these new creatures she is about to encounter fun? Will the attack like the darkness did?
With the simple care free nature of the Squijum She immediately bounds into the open. The people do not notice and do not even seem to really know that she is there. She sits on her hind legs for a bit watching waiting fluffing her tail. With this new found sense of fun and adventure she bounds off to the world. Grabbing at peoples pants and running away saying, "Hotcha!" This world will definitely be one to play in.
The days pass and Squijumia becomes bored. Most of the people around have taken no notice of her and she has gotten no advancements of playing games with them. Her belly begins to rumble as she scratches up some more roots to eat. Frustration grows for her as she is looking more for seeds and nuts. Her absolute favorite foods to eat after all and this new plane of existence seems to be lacking seriously in it along with laughter.
As she is digging around a, "Nice Man," comes buy her and greets her. She immediately jumps up and is bounding around. Some attention at last, some one finally noticed that she was not just some rat running around this world. She bounds up to him asking for nuts hoping that he will understand her little simple language. He nods and laughs at her and hands her some food. She takes it very greedily. But looks a bit disappointed in the fact it is not nuts. The "Nice Man," then begins to explain that he does have something for her in exchange for some hard squijum work.
Squijumia fallows him to a big bank where he proceeds to give her a huge statue of an acorn. She is absolutely thrilled at the gift. She bounds all around him saying "Hotcha!" and touching her new found statue. She can't seem to help but be over the moon for this wonderful item because it proves they have nuts here. Then the, "Nice Man," asks here where her home is and how she makes any money. This brings tears to her poor sapphire eyes as she remembers the darkness encompassing her home and all she can do is sit down on her hind legs. She says, "darkness, bad, Hotcha no no, No home." This does not seem to set well with her new found friend and he provides her with enough money to buy herself and nice little home. In exchange for all these treasures and kindness he asks for help in gathering items.
She promptly stands up ready for her list as he asks her to gather seeds and plants for him. This seems trivial and easy to her. She nods her head and bounds around him some more. Showing her Eminence appreciation for his kind gifts.
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Runes of Time
By Talow | March 13, 2014
Long ago before I showed up here I was an apprentice of a master traveling magi. In that time I had come to learn a lot of runes and their destinations. Inscribing them, how to store them. My master showed me many places and alluded to runes which can take you not only to another place, but another time in that place. I had all but forgotten this until events took place that had taken me to times not my own.
Merrick... I know he didn't have much respect for me but I ventured into a conversation with him anyways. He informed me of criminal activity, I informed him of my quest to find these runes of time.
We quickly parted ways after this.
I stopped after he was outside of my sites flipped open my rune book and ventured to a rune I rarely use, I needed time to think again, the waterfall I was hoping would allow me that at least.
I sat on the bridge railing for some time watching the water smash into the pond below, staff in my lap. I sat there until there was no light left, then I recalled home, no good thought came to me.
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Undivided
By Scarlet | March 13, 2014
- Undivided -
I don't see it. I, myself, am completely oblivious of the true reasons why I am the way I am. It's not that the tiefling's insanity curse has fallen on me earlier than any other one, no. I would compare myself to clay, red clay. A soft material that can let anyone around shape its form... Yet, clay might still be too stiff compared to my easily manipulated mind. Oh, I'm not stating here that I lack any intellectual ability, nor that I would be innocent like a blonde maiden with wide and blue eyes. I am delusional. It has to be that, maybe? Who knows? You certainly wouldn't.
You see, even at birth I didn't enter this world alone. I was with my other half, my twin brother. Perhaps the perfect reflection of everything I was not. He decided that he would take the decisions for the both of us, and I never refused such an offer. In some twisted way, I prefer to follow another's will, because I think I was robbed from mine since forever. Nothing really interests me in any particular manner... and I don't hold any special or important goals for myself (outside of plain survival), despite that I might look to be a very ambitious woman. So, I fill this personal emptiness with the will of another, what could be so wrong about it?
---------------------------------------------
I still remember that night, sixty years ago, far away among the floating islands of Vahnatia, when my twin brother refused to escape the doomed city with me. There was an ambient panic, every peasant was running around like a headless chicken would, scared that the sky would fall over them due to the destructive storm heading right towards us. Strangely, they were not very far from the truth. The sky -was- falling. Every island collapsed one after the other, and we were next. Fortunately, we had the technology of flying ships that were said to be able to travel between the worlds, even through the Maelstrom.
He refused! He had promised that we would never be separated! And... there I was, taken away from him by the old hag that pretended to be my mother. If I had expressed the shadow of a will, once in my existence, it was at that exact moment. Don't abandon me! I screamed, but the wind was louder than me. That was all too easy for him! How would I survive without his protection?! How would I fill this terrible terrible emptiness he would leave behind? I've never been only one... A raging wave of emotions flooded my mind and I knew that I had lost myself forever, right there, when I saw his silhouette disappear in the crowd.
Elvira (my fake mother) took care of me, I suppose. We even survived the crash of our ship that landed us both in Narrowhaven. Over the years, I collected memories of my long lost brother. Confused memories, true and false, but that I can't seem to be able to sort properly. One thing is sure, is that I'm making some up. Did he really die on the public place, because of my behavior? Did he really loose his head, by the hand of the Lord of Hatred? I've seen him die so many times that perhaps I am not really alive. Still, I wrote to him in my past moments of panic, under the patient stare of the old hag.
Quote:
To Malachite,
It now has been almost sixty years of your absence and still, I can't seem to find a potent way to erase my single -but deadly- mistake. I've tried working alone, like we used to, together, but things only worsened. How could I possibly achieve anything without you? Did you only think, for one second, what would happen to me, once you would be gone? Even the best of us make some "faux pas", it seems... I am tired. My efforts have pulled me a long way from my life outside society, but never pushed me closer to a solution to my problem. I'll admit, I'm growing out of patience and even desperate. Since you are not there to level me back, I know I will over react and the consequences will probably be devastating. To hell! What can I do?! I know, I even managed to lie in my writing... but I know you understand my lies.
It has already been done. I've found a potential way to bring you back, or at least assure your well-being. I've signed a contract with Hatred, and at the end of it, you shall be saved. He's despicable and backstabbing, but I trust in the nature of the contract. It has to be fulfilled on both sides, just like the ones I seal with my victims. The price is high, but I deserve to suffer for what I have done. I fully accept the problems that will come out of it. Family being Family, and you being my only true one, this is the only rule I will live and die for. Others don't understand and I don't expect them to. You, you already understand...
For the first time since you died Malachite, I felt -happy-. Perhaps it is true that you led me there to show me a different side. The best ones are always hidden away. I know now, because you were, back then. I don't know how this alliance will end up, but I trust it can be a little different, this time. After all, they share the same opinions I have on so many levels, especially about Perfection.
Quote:
Malachite,
I write to you in almost complete darkness. Thankfully, our race has some advantages despite the overall problems it attracts. I will try to sum up the recent events, because I could go on about for pages and pages, without ever writing down the final point. I will at least describe you how it is, so you can imagine where your sister attended some most complicated days.
I have no idea where I am, in fact. I would qualify this place like a random space lost between time and a wretched reality. There are no walls, still, the floor seems to extend only to a certain point, emptiness and void soon replacing the black and ruby tiles. Infinite red curtains seems to flow down upon them, while I can't even seem to be able to see where they are coming from. The room is furnished with bone-made thrones and tables that support little dark candles that don't even seem to create any light, despite the dancing flames. They do create shadows, making one feel as if there was more to be seen, behind those crimson drapes and even over the ground's limits. Oddly enough, I find it beautiful, but I suppose it must be logical since I believe it has been built for me.
Quote:
Malachite,
I've comfortably found back the satin sheets of my own bed, yes, exactly the same ones we used to share in our best years. I've kept around me more details and memories of you that you would imagine! I almost feel -romantic- about it all, would you even be able to picture that? You used to say how much you thought red complimented me so much, well everything I own (almost!) is that perfect colour, even my garden consists of entirely crimson flowers and plants of all shapes.
The silence of my mansion is softly holding me in safety in those rare moments of appreciated loneliness. The only noise breaking it would be the horrible moans of the fatigued liches. Eternal life must be long, walking around with the undead without any goals or any pleasures of any kind... It reminds me of a woman who seeks it, eternity. How odd? I'm not entirely convinced that she truly knows what she is going for. Once she will discover all the deceptions of the world and slowly sink into bitterness, I highly doubt that she will stay excited about that never ending life. I figure that, over the years, you slowly grow tired and nothing surprises you anymore... death must be attractive, at that point.
See you soon, hopefully.
-----------------------------
There he was. A different kind of human. A man that I despised from every inch of my soft skin. He saw through it, through me, some of it, more than the others did. Truly. He wanted to lead me back there and help me find what I was looking for. Surprising, Michael Reignes. That arrogant bastard wasn't that bad after all, perhaps? That old enemy of mine could maybe achieve something for me? Yes, please do. Let's go there and I'll be a good companion on the trip...
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