On sadness, madness, and depravity.
By Orlando | July 20, 2013
Fenrir turned from the window as Adair dressed himself and said, "What's that?"
Adair replied a bit embarrassed, "How you are supposed to be the dark one and I'm supposed to be the light one?" For that neither had an answer.
Earlier in the day there had been gathering at the Inn, and Adair in the midst of his depression some how found himself in the middle of a meet and greet. Adair turned to the man speaking about greatness and bottle in hand Adair answered some of his questions. At first it was fine. People could witness that something was certainly wrong with their king, his sadness could almost be felt in the air. Adair turned up the bottle, pressed against his lips, and told the man how he wishes he could raise the dead or turn back time. Neither of these things a real possibility, not for him. It was shortly after this moment that the man started speaking on wealth, that's when Adair had just about enough.
A man called out in the background, "The Greedy King!" Adair was outraged. At this point his filter was gone, thanks to the bottle, his anger fumed out of every pore. 'I'm the greedy king?' he thought to himself, 'After everything I have sacrificed!' His outrage grew and before he even realized it he was standing over a dead body. Adair had no real idea at what had happened in that moment. The citizens then became outraged at his attack. Adair fended off the angry citizens leaving nothing but injured bodies on the ground. He thought they might be fine but didn't know for sure.
"Anyone else?" he asked before turning to the door, "I didn't think so." Adair had then started walking towards the manor tossing his honor aside for the day, and who knows what else. He sat down in his office chair, his throne by any other rights, and sank further into his sadness. His mind slowly started to recall the events, 'You know what they used to call me' a flash of himself leaning in 'the mad king.' Adair Cringed as his mind processed what had happened. The rest of the night went by much calmer. People either honored or admonished him for his actions. Public out roar followed by a spirit summoned by Adair's own grief which had come to take his life.
However as he laid unconscious on the floor he felt a certain peace that had been gone from his life for the last few years. Everything was easier and done. No having to be king, no having to lead and build a city, no having to protect people when you have no power to. He was finally done. Only to have his spirit sucked back into his body. This would have made a fitting punishment he acknowledged to himself.
His mind continued to slip back and forth between madness and sanity. The king was ill of mind, and needed something no one could provide for him, peace. Then he did something unexpected Adair began to walk towards the healers home to find something for himself.
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Amnesia & Murder
By Delia | July 15, 2013
When she arrived, the keep was empty, as it had been so often, recently. She wondered about Adair, and where he was. He was gone so much, and she missed him. Thoughts of the upcoming auction and debutante filled her mind once again. So many things to think about. Scarlet was home and safe, thank the heavens, but Samael was still on the loose. How did Scarlet get free? Did he release her? Where had she been? These questions also danced through her mind, along with her myriad other concerns. Engale, what had he been doing at her house, and how did Michael Reignes even know where she lived, much less get into her flat? What had caused her collapse, in the first place?
Her head spinning, she sat, putting a small hand to her forehead. Too much to think about, too much to think about...
She heard the double doors opening, and she leaped to her feet, grabbing for her staff which had fallen aside. Who was it now? Samael? Michael Reignes? Had Adair returned home? Had Lucius returned? Could Lady Nymahel finally have come back? Her nerves were as shattered as Scarlet's, any more. She didn't know where to turn next, and every little sound set her off.
It was Scarlet, and she looked ragged. There were circles underneath her eyes, and her expression was grim. "It's just I..." she said.
"Oh, gods, I am so glad to see you!" Delia breathed in relief, a smile beginning to caress her lips, "I swear, I'm becoming as paranoid as you these days!" Then she took in Scarlet's countenance and her brow furrowed softly. Something more was wrong. What else could go wrong?
"What's wrong?" Delia asked, stepping over to Scarlet in concern.
Deep worry lines creased the tiefling's brow, and her expression remained serious, "Don't worry, it'll all soon be over," she attempted to reassure the young woman, "I'm offering you a gift, today." Delia was confused; since when did a gift come with a frown? And what would make it "all over soon"?
"A gift? What gift?" She asked, suspiciously.
Scarlet paused, as if trying to buy time, before replying, simply, "Freedom."
"Scarlet, what are you talking about? Freedom? I don't understand."
"Freedom, before I die." She lifted her hands, pulling Delia close, as if needing her, and Delia wrapped Scarlet in her arms in return, her eyes widening in fear, "You're not going to die!" Oh, what was that Samael up to! He had to be behind it! What could she do? What could she do against him? "I'd kill whomever tried to harm you, Scarlet! Why do you think I wish to kill Samael? I love you!"
"Oh, some say we feel our last hours..." She frowned sternly. as if in effort to control herself, control the situation.
"You're -not- going to die." Delia looked over Scarlet's shoulder, as Miluda stalked into the room. "Who is going to die?" The Drow asked, but Scarlet went on, pulling Delia's attention to herself. "Just kiss me and everything will be fine," but Scarlet didn't look as if everything was going to be just fine.
Delia pulled Scarlet in as she would have a concerned child, "Everything -will- be fine, Scarlet! I promise!" She quickly and gently kissed her on the lips, trying to reassure her. As she did, the world seemed to spin, and she felt herself fainting. She fell back upon the chair, as Scarlet gently let her go. Delia put her hands to her face, trying to hold on to herself, while Miluda just watched her, and Scarlet's crimson gaze set upon the floor.
After several minutes, Delia slowly looked up through her fingers. Where was she? Ah, the keep. She looked around. How did she get here? Then she saw Scarlet, standing nearby, her expression almost mourning. "Scarlet? What are you doing here?" What day was it? What time was it? She looked around and saw Miluda, that Drow that followed Scarlet about. She didn't like her, didn't trust her, so she looked back to Scarlet again.
"I don't know. I just woke up from a nightmare," she said, as she wrapped her veil around her face, not looking at Delia, trying to hide her emotions from the girl.
The young medium's brow furrowed, softly, as Miluda commented, "Again with her nightmares..."
Delia's hand lifted to her brow again, disoriented and confused, "I feel odd.... faint."
"Perhaps you truly have caught something Delia..." Scarlet remarked, still looking away.
"I think," Delia struggled to find words, to orient herself. The answers felt just beyond her grasp, "I think... maybe it's the..." Then she simply fell back into the chair, futily. She just couldn't recall. She tried to think of the last thing she remembered; that would be that Scarlet had been made Duchess, and she and Miss Nym were Baronesses. The thought went through her mind that she was going to see Adair. Yes, she loved Adair, of that she was certain, but everything else was a blank. She struggled to find the words, then simply gave up.
"I can't -remember-..."
"You should have some water perhaps. This summer is way too warm oddly," Scarlet offered, motioning to Miluda, who stood up, grumbling as always, and head out towards the stairs to the kitchen. She returned in a few moments with a glass, handing it to Delia, before turning to Scarlet and pronouncing, "Anyway, I'm going," before turning and leaving abruptly again, as was her way.
Delia sipped at the cool water, still puzzled and trying to figure things out. "I think you're right. Maybe it is the heat," she commented, looking up to Scarlet again, "Maybe you should sit if you're not well, either."
"I don't know, my mind runs these days," Scarlet stretched open her sleeves, as if in letting some heat escape.
"Have you seen Miss Nym about?" Delia asked, trying to latch on to some memory.
Scarlet shook her head, "It has been a while. I used to see her quite a lot."
Delia frowned, "Strange. You'd think we'd meet more often." That was why she was here, clearly, they must be having a meeting of some sort, Delia surmised. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"Everything is fine, of course."
That was when Delia caught sight of something moving on the floor to her right. Rats, she assumed, looking over, then creasing her brow in surprise, and turning a bit on the chair, "Something is leaking." It was a strange, bubbling pile of black goo, which, as she watched, slowly began to rise and form. Delia leaped back from the chair, not noticing how Scarlet had suddenly calmed. It rose into the form of a man. His robes were black, he had curling horns sticking from his hood, and the only thing she could see inside the cowl were glowing red eyes. "Ahhh..." the figure sighed, as if in apparent relief.
Delia looked quickly over, "Scarlet! Move! This doesn't look good!"
The red eyes turned upon Delia, then, "Don't worry, it's just me."
Delia stepped back further. "Who are you!?"
"Interesting," the figure said, as he looked to Scarlet, and she moved closer to him, as if pulled by strings. He reached out for her, to Delia's dismay. She had no idea what to do about it, but stood there petrified, dropping the water on the floor, hearing the glass break as Scarlet was turned in the being's arms. Her back was towards him, but his eyes were on Delia. Scarlet simply looked resigned, perhaps even relief in her eyes as he wrapped his hands around her throat. With a supernatural quickness, Delia saw him pull on Scarlet's head. Her head snapped to the side, unnaturally, as the light was extinguished in her eyes and the figure caught her body.
Delia let out a scream and fainted, crushing the shards of glass underneath herself, the water soaking into her robe.
It was some time before she awoke. She pushed herself up, as if from a sleep, confused. What had she seen? Had Scarlet truly been there? How did she get here, in the keep? She held on to her staff for support as she walked over to where the nightmare had happened. When she looked to the ground, all that was left was a bit of crimson cloth. She lifted Scarlet's veil from the floor and peered around the room madly. She had to get help! Where did she get help from? It wasn't just a dream! The proof was clutched tightly within her hand. Delia ran out the doors, trying to get the guards' attention, then frantically made her way into the town square.
Bastiaan, she knew Bastiaan. He had a woman in his lap. There was blood. Why was there blood? She tried to tell them, but they seemed so lost within whatever was happening with themselves. Delia was lost, too. She had no idea what to do next. She turned from them and slowly made her way back towards the keep. What was at the keep? No, no she had to go home. Her father would know what to do! She dematerialized and head towards her parent's house for help.
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Game Files Patch ….. V10.5
By TheGuy | July 14, 2013
UORP_Patch_7_14_2013.zip
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[SVN 697][7/17/2013] Server Update
By TheGuy | July 14, 2013
- Added 4 new boss keys: Sacred Oak Branch, Serados Mantel, Scale of Rikktor, Mondains Shard
- Added ViWinffi's Race Language system!
- Leviathans not drop: Artifacts, Pristine Leather, Scales
- Fixed 27 rug addons to display properly
- Fixed silk hats to have 0 resists
- Fixed monthly Doubloon rewards (I think, maybe, it might be working?)
- Added ViWinfii’s race languages!
- Exceptional Socket Hammer change, on target +1 to available socket & +1 to socket
- Boats can now be placed on the lone island map
- Worked on adding new artwork & decorating / building things in game
- Other
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La statue sacrée
By Scarlet | July 2, 2013
La statue sacrée
On la voyait bouger, à moitié engloutie par la boue des côtes, mais elle bougeait. De la surface, je ne pouvais que voir peu... la houle des mers m'empêchant de pouvoir sonder les profondeurs autant que je ne l'aurais voulu. Il n'y avait pourtant pas de vent, pas de pluie, rien de particulier pour suggérer une telle force des vagues, rien de rien! Peut-être était-ce mon esprit encore trop dérangé par la disparition de Samael qui brouillait ma vision? J'avais cet indescriptible besoin de le voir, de le toucher, de le sentir près, pourtant je le haïssait autant qu'il était inhumainement possible de l'être.
J'avais encore du mal à croire que Miluda avait osé jeter son corps à la mer... Elle peut bien être une elfe noire grincheuse autant qu'elle le voudra, reste que cela ne peut -aucunement- justifier cet acte. Du moins, je pouvais tirer une certaine satisfaction à la regarder s'acharner à tirer et tirer sur le filet de pêche. Ne me sentant pas particulièrement fautive des erreurs de Miluda, je la laissait faire, après tout je n'allais pas me rapper les mains sur un vulgaire outil de marin. Toute cette énergie dépensée pour faire disparaître le visage d'un homme qui nous avait déjà quitté, honteux...
Après une bonne heure à souffrir des marrées violentes des côtes de mon île, j'entendis un peu d'espoir. Il y avait un moment, déjà , que j'avais perdu mon regard dans les méandres boueux qui tourbillonnaient sous la coque, et que mon teint était gracieusement passé de rouge à vert.
- Scarlet! Je crois que je l'ai!
Sans plus attendre, je me relevais debout, pieds nus, glissant maladroitement sur les planches trempées du bateau. Faudrait-il me briser les deux chevilles pour me rendre à lui, mais je m'y rendrais! Du moins... je crois.
- Tire plus fort Miluda! Qu'est-ce que tu attends! C'est de ta faute et tu me le -dois-!
J'avoue avoir été incapable de garder n'importe lequel de mes masques, devant elle. Ce n'était pas de la simple frustration, mais à moi-même je n'osais même pas l'avouer. C'était bien plus... un mélange de tout et de rien à la fois. De l'affection à la haine. Du détachement à la passion. Je savais ce qu'il pouvait être, et je savais ce que je voulais qu'il devienne. En tous les cas, mes désirs étaient bien loin de la réalité. L'homme que j'avais connu n'existait plus depuis belle lurette, et Samael n'avait été rien de mieux que de la déception à qui il avait poussé deux jambes (ou trois) et une grande gueule.
C'est avec un bruit sourd qu'il glissa lourdement en même temps qu'un flot d'algues mortes, de vieux poissons et de restes de je-ne-sais-trop-quoi-d'autre. L'important, c'est qu'il était là ... enfin, ce qu'il restait de lui. J'ai facilement pu reconnaître sa toge blanche immaculée, nettement moins propre qu'elle le fut, il y a un temps. Elle avait déjà jaunie sous l'eau salée de la mer, et plusieurs petit mollusques en avaient déjà fait leur demeure. Le corps de Samael s'était complètement transformé en pierre, comme il l'avait prévu, de la pierre aussi noire que les ténèbres, mais aussi lisse que si elle avait été polie par les éléments pendant des années... -Ma- statue. C'était tout ce qu'il me restait de lui, au final. Après toutes ces batailles, il ne me restait qu'un objet sans vie et presque sans aucun intérêt autre que décoratif.
- Sois maudit. Je savais que tu n'avais pas la motivation de réussir... mais je garderais la statue en mémoire de toi.
(OOC; I felt like it.)
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Memories
By Orlando | June 30, 2013
Niera would often creep around the cities of man and investigate her targets. She had seen a boy run around carrying a strange magical aura around him. This intrigued Neira it wasn't the first time she'd seen this pattern but none the less she would poke around.
Before long she had compelled the boy to a dance and at the end, she snuck a kiss and suddenly she remembered something, something ancient and powerful something that overwhelmed her with such a strong sick joy. After this she simply poofed to go find more things that reminded her of this "special" time.
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Honor and Sacrifice: The Story of Victor Corvin
By Victor Corvin | June 29, 2013
68 Years Ago.
~~~~
Blood mixed with the water in the basin between the woman’s legs. Its slow, undulating red swirls moved listlessly through the tinted liquid until it was splashed violently by the tireless hands working above it.
“Bring more hot water!†called the midwife to the younger women around her. There was a sudden flurry of movement from all around the room.
The midwife’s face was creased with lines, both from age and concentration, as she worked to ease the suffering of the woman who had already spent many hours in labor. She soaked her hands and then took another rag from one of the attendants, desperate to stop the flow of blood. The woman shuttered in pain and let out a loud groan. Her skin was pale and glistening with sweat in the abundant candle light.
“Not much longer, m’lady.†urged the midwife from behind the cloth draped over the woman’s lower half.
But her worried expression was not lost to the man in the doorway.
Standing there, nearly as tall as the wooden frame would allow, was a gruff looking man with tangled gray locks and a short chopped beard. His unkempt hair and harsh gaze contrasted sharply with his steel clad body. The seamless joints of his plate mail armor gleamed, with one hand resting on the hilt of his long sword, and the other wrapped around the curve of his helmet that was tucked underneath of his arm.
“She is a strong woman.†he said flatly.
The midwife was unassured, but gave him a sidelong glance, pursed her lips, and nodded dutifully. She then removed the dripping, blood seeped rag and rung it into the basin. The water became a murky reddish brown.
With heavy footfalls the man made his way across the smooth stone floor and the young women parted to make room for him. He stopped next to his wife who laid on a bed of stretched hide and pillows stuffed with goose feathers. She arched her back, her linen gowned body wracked with pain and fever, and let out another groan. The man reached out and placed his hand onto hers.
“My horse is ready.†he informed her.
The woman’s head turned slightly. Her matted brown hair fell over her bloodshot blue eyes as they rose up to look at her husband. She released her grip on the bedding and squeezed his mailed hand instead.
“Stay…†she implored weakly, “just a little longer.â€
The man shook his head.
“King Blackthorn’s footmen have already taken the southern forest. His knights will surely follow by dawn. We must make our move tonight.â€
The woman suddenly clutched her swollen stomach and shot forward in pain. She breathed rapidly for a moment, and winched visibly. An attendant rushed to her side, supporting her with another pillow. After a moment, she looked back to her husband with fear written plainly across her face.
The man withdrew his hand. He took a deep breath and furrowed his brow.
“I may be gone a number of weeks. I am to lead the cavalry against the advance.â€
“I need you to push, m’lady.†the midwife interjected.
The woman clenched her body and groaned through her teeth, then she laid her head back against the pillows and closed her eyes to fight the swells of nausea. Her chest rose and fell heavily.
“The men are waiting for me.†he added finally.
The man quickly turned on his heels and walked back towards the doorway. The attendants hastily moved out of his way, the closest taken by surprise and dropping the folded stacks of cloth that they carried. Each one of them cast their eyes down to the floor as he passed, out of respect for him, but also to hide their looks of dismay.
“Please… Baelund.†the woman called after him faintly.
The man stopped a few feet from the doorway.
He stood motionless for a moment, and a silence fell over the room.
Then, with a practiced motion he lifted his helmet and grasped it with both hands, pulling it down tightly over his head. His hands slowly fell back to his sides, but his head remained held high.
As no one dared to speak, the midwife’s voice finally broke in.
“M’lord,†she said gravely, “she’s lost a lot of blood.â€
The man’s head snapped over his shoulder with a half turn and he gripped the hilt of his sword with lightning speed. He glared at the old woman.
“And I’ve lost more blood than any to see this kingdom born!†he roared.
Some of the attendants squealed at the terrible bark of his voice, some cowered behind their armfuls of folded cloth, but they all scattered and withdrew from the man. The midwife’s face only knotted in anger. She maintained a savage stare with the steel clad man as long as she dared, but then her eyes, too, were cast downward.
Just then a painful scream erupted from the woman who laid on the bed. Her body quivered and shook violently as she doubled over in pain. The attendants quickly rushed to her side and it took all of their strength to hold the woman down. The midwife was nearly toppled over before she could get herself back under the cloth that covered the woman’s legs. She looked to the woman in a dour manner, as she expected the very worst, a still birth, but then the midwife’s eyes shot wide with surprise.
“I see the crown!’ she exclaimed.
The remaining attendants swarmed around the woman to get a better look under the cloth. Their worried expressions soon melted to ones of squeamish curiosity and then pure wonder as the child began to make its way out of the birth canal, guided along by the hands of the old midwife. The woman howled with agonizing pain, struggling to keep conscious under the tremendous pressure of the birthing.
Minutes later, covered in blood and screaming, the child was born. The midwife announced that it was a boy, and that he looked healthy. Once he was freed, she lifted him up and gave a wiry grin to the young women around her. The young women beamed back with smiles on their exhausted faces.
Then the attendants carefully took the child, cleaned, and swaddled him. The woman, paler than before and unable to sit upright unassisted, fought vigorously against the darkness that stole away the edges of her vision long enough to reach out for him. The midwife carried the boy over and delivered him into his mother’s arms.
The mother looked down at the boy with radiant joy and tears of happiness streamed down her face. She looked over her child as he rested peacefully, nestled against her chest. At that very moment she decided what she would name her first born son.
She looked up with a surge of hope lining her tired face.
“Shall we call him Victor?†she asked, looking to the doorway.
But the blood loss had finally overcome her and her vision blurred and fell into darkness. She let out a soft sigh, her eyes fluttered, and then closed.
The old midwife exchanged uneasy glances with the younger women around her, then lifted the child from his mother’s arms, and carried him out of the room.
~~~~
(Author's Note: This is the first of what will be perhaps 10 parts to Victor's back story, leading up to his arrival in Narrowhaven. Until such a time as all the parts are finished, I reserve the right to change any portion of the story as needed to suit the final piece. This includes facts and events to ensure the story fits with the lore of the shard (which I'm told is still being finalized). To clear any misconceptions, I also note that the mother does not actually die, she is strong like her husband said, and that Baelund is not a King, just a knight from a kingdom that gets conquered by Blackthorn during his reign long ago. Although I do want to play a vampire, he isn't going to be some cheesy stereotype. Check back in a couple days and you should find Part 2 when Victor grows up and learns more about the world. Feel free to post your feedback. I hope you enjoyed it!)
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[SVN 691][6/29/2013] Server Update
By TheGuy | June 29, 2013
- House decay enabled. Please see 'help' menu info for house decay info.
- Several small bug fixes in various scripts
- Working on adding new artwork to the mul files. It will take a while but will be worth it!
- Added a number of spawners & decorations to various places in the world.
- Other
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Zyn’s Tattered and Torn Journal
By Syloz | June 27, 2013
Alchemic Table.jpg
The principles, metal in the phyical side, and countless herbs in the chemical, are a base. With the right base, and knowlege almost anything can be made. Salt, Sulfur, and liquefied Mithril aka Mercury are the most commonly used bases in the chemical view. The surface dwellers have a tendency to also use the alignment of the sun and stars, however this is of no consequence to Drow. In the physical view there are seven metals that commonly used as bases. Lead, Tin, Copper, Iron, Silver, Gold, and Mithril. The elements are used in symbol and normally written into formulas of the physical nature to set the make-up of certain Transmutes. Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and Energy.
Alchemy Circle.jpg
My theory is that by taking the physical and adding the chemical mixed with magic, set in an Alchemist Circle, can create a new from of Alchemy. These thoughts are ever lingering in my mind. Soon I shall gather the materials needed for testing. Al-tho there is one item that shall require the assistance of a particular type of magic user. A soul fragment...
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Roayal seal
By khaos254 | June 22, 2013
Many Citizens gathered in the Underdark for rumors of a Princess to be crowned. Hours passed, "is it true?" people wispered anxiously waited. A day had passed still no word but what they did not know, was a Qu'essan being crowned.
As the city of Naentek waited, Tulsharess Dhaune and the Rest of the Tulshar(Empire) were in the throne room, hours passed. Dhaune emerged from Royal staircase "Citizens of Naentek Soon the ceremony shall begin our Princess is ready." Dhaune spoke with a roar that echoed throughout the city" You all shall see soon enough Dhaune sent Bran Maur to Gather the food for the Great feast Daune ordered "Zyn to go slaughter as many rivvil as you can bring back their pieces, Chaos Demands It!!" Zyn did as ordered, and after a few hours returned with a large bloodied sack, leaving driblet's in its wake.
Dhaune Sinore_6-22_18.37.jpg
Zyn scattered the body parts all over the sacrificial circle. Dhaune began to chant and pray she swaying back and fourth "In the name of chaos take this flesh" her hands started to glow red as she chanted, the fire roared up covering the circle and with a final burst almost reached the spectators. They watched as the bodies burn. " Thinking to herself This is no time to get a hot head! "she chuckled"
"The time has come for the grand sacrifice" Dhaune explained proudly almost jumping up and down form the excitement." Zyn was ordered to go fetch the slave, Zyn and the slave entered the throne room pushing her into the circle. Grabbing her arms from behind he held her still. Dhaune then called her daughter to the Circle cause its her who will do the killing this day. "Raisa Sinnore come and show this slave why the drow are Superior!!!! Raisa quickly took the dagger in her hand with a quick swipe almost severed the head. We laughed, puked and Danced. The blood of the slave dripped down her shoulders onto the ground Raisa Laughed as the slave's throat seeped blood. "My daughter take her heart in the name of chaos, cut this out and drink of the blood" Raisa smiled. With a stab to the chest, and some vigorous slicing In in moments out came the slaves heart, Rasia held it up then putting her lips on an artery and drunk. Smiling as the blood ran down her chin.
Dhaune Sinore_6-22_18.45.jpg
The ceremony came to an end Raisa and the others were summoned to the throne room
Raisa step before me and kneel, Raisa did as she was told and kneeled before her mother.
Dhaune spoke with a stern voice so all of the throne room could hear. "With this crown you are the Qu'essan of Naentek."
Dhaune Sinore_6-22_19.00.jpg
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