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Anume

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Anume last won the day on March 3 2022

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  1. Low levels may not pk with armor way above their own level. Usual line of thumb: if you can get it with a group it is likely ok. Now I don't want to hear any but I could get it with a group even though it is in winter or similar arguments. Use common sense. Especially for quest class/race applicants less is often more. Use armor fitting your rank when you pk. Merchants: use common sense before you sell something. Ask them what level they are if you do not know. Do not sell them items with + 10 levels above their rank or more. Adventurers: we do not want to see you rank to 50 just to grab level 50 non rares and then remort and use that suit to pk. Do NOT keep anything a level 30 would not be able to get. We did not expand the class to 50 to have vets gain a bit more of an advantage by this. It's a class meant for new people or returning players to learn. Our min-maxers may still use adventurer for the few practices they can save that way, but get rid of anything you couldn't get at level 30 before remorting. Above 40, all goes as 40s may group with 50s and are in some 50s pk range already. Pit finds: you're welcome to keep a few things you find in a pit, but do not use them for low level pk. If in doubt, ask first (prayer, note to Immortal).
  2. Lloth was here. Deal with it.

  3. Update in blue: adjustment to current eq rebalancing system values
  4. Anume

    The Tower Moves

    Posted for Ragnomar. Odd red clouds accumulate over Val Miran. ValMiran is [TRIBUNAL] controlled. Players near you: <PK> Ragnomar The Upper Platform [50 H-Orc Cle] <PK> [SAVANT] (Hourglass [E]) Ragnomar Wolfmaw the Re-Minder, Creator of Zombie Monsters [ Gnome ] <PK> Riija the Scourge of the Battlefield [ Zomb ] <PK> Dorvan the Imperator of the Ossein Players matched: 3 There are 3 characters on, the most on since startup was 20. The title of Master Questor of Aabahran is currently held by Ragnomar. The Upper Platform You pass through the tower's barrier unharmed and find yourself standing upon a large platform. The platform itself creaks and pops as the tower lazily drifts at the end of its tether. Beneath you the chains descend to the ground far below. The powerful thrumming sound is absent here, as you are shielded by the tower's mass, and the odd glowing barrier. The platform is made of random sheets of metal. The Goblins have left crates and assorted tools scattered about. Above your head giant balloons are visible held fast to the tower by what must be hundreds of ropes and chains. Some are even tied off directly to the platform itself. Tiny figures can be seen climbing all over the tower's exterior. Goblins hard at work making sure everything is secure. An almost perfectly aligned five-pointed star is burned into the floor, it pulsates an icy blue glow and a crackling energy field can be seen sizzling above your head. In the middle of the Pentagram is a summoning altar made of jet-black obsidian. [Exits: east south down] (Glowing) (Humming) A Summoning Altar in the middle of a Pentagram is here. (Charmed) (Dark Aura) A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation stands here serving his master. (Golden Aura) A regiment of the Praetorian Guard is here, guarding the captured demons. (Golden Aura) A regiment of the Praetorian Guard is here, guarding the captured demons. A huge warmonger demon is bound by four gigantic chains pulled into opposing directions. A beautiful succubus is almost completely wrapped up in heavy chains here. An incubus is chained to the platform here. Ragnomar points towards his Zombie to stand next to the collection of Demons. ValMiran is [TRIBUNAL] controlled. Players near you: <PK> Ragnomar The Upper Platform <PK> Dorvan The Central Square of Val Miran You tell Dorvan 'Come bear witness..' Dorvan flies in. A flesh golem flies in. A zombie flies in. A stone golem flies in. A skeleton flies in. A ghoul flies in. The Upper Platform You pass through the tower's barrier unharmed and find yourself standing upon a large platform. The platform itself creaks and pops as the tower lazily drifts at the end of its tether. Beneath you the chains descend to the ground far below. The powerful thrumming sound is absent here, as you are shielded by the tower's mass, and the odd glowing barrier. The platform is made of random sheets of metal. The Goblins have left crates and assorted tools scattered about. Above your head giant balloons are visible held fast to the tower by what must be hundreds of ropes and chains. Some are even tied off directly to the platform itself. Tiny figures can be seen climbing all over the tower's exterior. Goblins hard at work making sure everything is secure. An almost perfectly aligned five-pointed star is burned into the floor, it pulsates an icy blue glow and a crackling energy field can be seen sizzling above your head. In the middle of the Pentagram is a summoning altar made of jet-black obsidian. [Exits: east south down] (Glowing) (Humming) A Summoning Altar in the middle of a Pentagram is here. (Charmed) An evil phantom floats ominously, feeding on the dead. (Charmed) A dirty, old skeleton stands here with its master. (Charmed) A stone golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Charmed) A zombie, covered in rotted skin, stands here with its master. (Charmed) A flesh golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Translucent) Dorvan is here, sitting astride a terrible nightmare. (Charmed) (Dark Aura) A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation stands here serving his master. (Golden Aura) A regiment of the Praetorian Guard is here, guarding the captured demons. (Golden Aura) A regiment of the Praetorian Guard is here, guarding the captured demons. A huge warmonger demon is bound by four gigantic chains pulled into opposing directions. A beautiful succubus is almost completely wrapped up in heavy chains here. An incubus is chained to the platform here. Dorvan limps in. You nod at Dorvan. The day has begun. The cheerful notes of the temple of light bell announce sunrise. Dorvan looks about, noticing you. Dorvan moans. 'Uggghh...uhhhhhh..... A zombie says 'Ughmm....?' Ragnomar examines Dorvans form and his limp. Dorvan looks at you. A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation stares for a moment at Dorvan and responds, 'Ughhhhhh...hhhh?' A zombie says 'Ughh...uhhhh..rargggh..' Skribus rides in. A steam golem slave walks in. A stone golem walks in. The red clouds over Val Miran start to swirl in an odd pattern. Dorvan utters. ' wut...al..tar...? Ragnomar extends his hands out as the Pentagram upon the floor begins to pulsate a little faster. ValMiran is [TRIBUNAL] controlled. Players near you: Skribus The Upper Platform <PK> Ragnomar The Upper Platform <PK> Riija Queen Isabeau Avenue <PK> Dorvan The Upper Platform [ Human ] Skribus Vindikar the Knight of Legion [ Drow ] <PK> Ulthas Dork the Doomblade [50 H-Orc Cle] <PK> [SAVANT] (Hourglass [E]) Ragnomar Wolfmaw the Re-Minder, Creator of Zombie Monsters [ Gnome ] <PK> Riija the Scourge of the Battlefield [ Zomb ] <PK> Dorvan the Imperator of the Ossein Players matched: 5 There are 5 characters on, the most on since startup was 20. The title of Master Questor of Aabahran is currently held by Ragnomar. Glancing about, Skribus runs a hand through his immaculately styled hair. Each lock falls perfectly back in place as his fingers pass. Ragnomar nods at Skribus, 'You come have to bear witness... welcome.' Skribus says 'You could say that.' [ Human ] [Male] Skribus Vindikar the Knight of Legion Players matched: 1 Dorvan tilts his head in question. Ringing with holy fervor the temple of light bell announces high noon. Lips curling in a slight smirk, Skribus shrugs. 'Or at least to make sure someone gets the story write. Get it? Write? Right?' You say 'For today.... the mighty Tower of Savant will leave this... holy city.. and find it's new home.' Ragnomar peers down at the digusting city of Val Miran... A zombie chuckles politely. Dorvan utters. ' oughhhh... 'New home? Not its old home, back in that garbage heap? Or its ancestral home south of that other garbage heap?' Skribus arches an eyebrow. A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation peers at the other zombie and continues to groan, 'Arhhhhhhhhgg?' Dorvan scratches his head. 'Wheree....goo..? Ragnomar focuses for a moment to keep his composure, 'No. more... trash talk.' You peer intently at Skribus. The Upper Platform You pass through the tower's barrier unharmed and find yourself standing upon a large platform. The platform itself creaks and pops as the tower lazily drifts at the end of its tether. Beneath you the chains descend to the ground far below. The powerful thrumming sound is absent here, as you are shielded by the tower's mass, and the odd glowing barrier. The platform is made of random sheets of metal. The Goblins have left crates and assorted tools scattered about. Above your head giant balloons are visible held fast to the tower by what must be hundreds of ropes and chains. Some are even tied off directly to the platform itself. Tiny figures can be seen climbing all over the tower's exterior. Goblins hard at work making sure everything is secure. An almost perfectly aligned five-pointed star is burned into the floor, it pulsates an icy blue glow and a crackling energy field can be seen sizzling above your head. In the middle of the Pentagram is a summoning altar made of jet-black obsidian. [Exits: east south down] (Glowing) (Humming) A Summoning Altar in the middle of a Pentagram is here. (Charmed) A stone golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Charmed) A steam golem slave stands here, joints noisily twirling. Skribus is here, sitting astride a white stallion. (Charmed) An evil phantom floats ominously, feeding on the dead. (Charmed) A dirty, old skeleton stands here with its master. (Charmed) A stone golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Charmed) A zombie, covered in rotted skin, stands here with its master. (Charmed) A flesh golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Translucent) Dorvan is here, sitting astride a terrible nightmare. (Charmed) (Dark Aura) A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation stands here serving his master. (Golden Aura) A regiment of the Praetorian Guard is here, guarding the captured demons. (Golden Aura) A regiment of the Praetorian Guard is here, guarding the captured demons. A huge warmonger demon is bound by four gigantic chains pulled into opposing directions. A beautiful succubus is almost completely wrapped up in heavy chains here. An incubus is chained to the platform here. Ragnomar peers up into the sky, 'You will bear witness once I begin the ritual.' 'Trash talk,' Skribus snorts. 'I see what you did there. I like you, you seem alright.' A zombie shrugs helplessly. A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation tilts his head towards the other zombie, he appears interested. Dorvan peers from left to right. 'Rit...u...al... You nod in enthusiastic agreement with Dorvan. A zombie smiles happily. Dorvan looks at A zombie. Dorvan looks at A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation. Staring blankly, Skribus turns his attention to Dorvan. 'Did she take your brain out when she...' He gestures toward the lead zombie's pale, dessicated body. Dorvan shakes his head. Ragnomar starts his prepartion collecting a few items from inside the Tower and returns after speaking briefly with a Goblin at the gates. Shrugging, Skribus snickers softly. He cups one hand his lips and whispers to you, 'Could have fooled me.' Wielding the powers of Time, you reverse its flow about yourself! Ragnomar stands beside the Altar and takes his position. Dorvan and friends gaze forward, a glazed look upon there expressions. Ragnomar peers around at the gathering audience, 'Do stand clear, I would not want one of you to... become collateral. The Upper Platform You pass through the tower's barrier unharmed and find yourself standing upon a large platform. The platform itself creaks and pops as the tower lazily drifts at the end of its tether. Beneath you the chains descend to the ground far below. The powerful thrumming sound is absent here, as you are shielded by the tower's mass, and the odd glowing barrier. The platform is made of random sheets of metal. The Goblins have left crates and assorted tools scattered about. Above your head giant balloons are visible held fast to the tower by what must be hundreds of ropes and chains. Some are even tied off directly to the platform itself. Tiny figures can be seen climbing all over the tower's exterior. Goblins hard at work making sure everything is secure. An almost perfectly aligned five-pointed star is burned into the floor, it pulsates an icy blue glow and a crackling energy field can be seen sizzling above your head. In the middle of the Pentagram is a summoning altar made of jet-black obsidian. [Exits: east south down] (Glowing) (Humming) A Summoning Altar in the middle of a Pentagram is here. (Charmed) A stone golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Charmed) A steam golem slave stands here, joints noisily twirling. Skribus is here, sitting astride a white stallion. (Charmed) An evil phantom floats ominously, feeding on the dead. (Charmed) A dirty, old skeleton stands here with its master. (Charmed) A stone golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Charmed) A zombie, covered in rotted skin, stands here with its master. (Charmed) A flesh golem stands here to do his master's bidding. Dorvan is here, sitting astride a terrible nightmare. (Charmed) A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation stands here serving his master. (Golden Aura) A regiment of the Praetorian Guard is here, guarding the captured demons. (Golden Aura) A regiment of the Praetorian Guard is here, guarding the captured demons. A huge warmonger demon is bound by four gigantic chains pulled into opposing directions. A beautiful succubus is almost completely wrapped up in heavy chains here. An incubus is chained to the platform here. Ragnomar points his blackened finger at the Praetorian Guard holding the Demon still. Dorvan and the herd of Zombies slowly shuffle backward. 'Ughhhh.... The Praetorians shuffle their feet, clearly uncomfortable. Stretching his muscular arms into the air, and in doing so amplifying the definition of his well-defined chest, Skribus nods and takes a step back. He folds his arms across his chest, watching. The night is about to end. Ragnomar says with a commanding voice, 'Minion, seize the Demon and bring him to me. A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation starts focusing on the Praetorian guard and starts marching towards him. The Praetorians hand over the demon who struggles against his bonds. Sure to stand behind his largest Zombie friend, Dorvan watches from behind his shoulder. A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation stands infront of the Praetorian guard and takes control of the Demon firmly, he drags him towards Ragnomar and the Altar. Dorvan looks at a stunningly beautiful man. Dorvan looks at a beautiful succubus. The Upper Platform You pass through the tower's barrier unharmed and find yourself standing upon a large platform. The platform itself creaks and pops as the tower lazily drifts at the end of its tether. Beneath you the chains descend to the ground far below. The powerful thrumming sound is absent here, as you are shielded by the tower's mass, and the odd glowing barrier. The platform is made of random sheets of metal. The Goblins have left crates and assorted tools scattered about. Above your head giant balloons are visible held fast to the tower by what must be hundreds of ropes and chains. Some are even tied off directly to the platform itself. Tiny figures can be seen climbing all over the tower's exterior. Goblins hard at work making sure everything is secure. An almost perfectly aligned five-pointed star is burned into the floor, it pulsates an icy blue glow and a crackling energy field can be seen sizzling above your head. In the middle of the Pentagram is a summoning altar made of jet-black obsidian. [Exits: east south down] (Glowing) (Humming) A Summoning Altar in the middle of a Pentagram is here. (Charmed) A stone golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Charmed) A steam golem slave stands here, joints noisily twirling. Skribus is here, sitting astride a white stallion. (Charmed) An evil phantom floats ominously, feeding on the dead. (Charmed) A dirty, old skeleton stands here with its master. (Charmed) A stone golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Charmed) A zombie, covered in rotted skin, stands here with its master. (Charmed) A flesh golem stands here to do his master's bidding. Dorvan is here, sitting astride a terrible nightmare. (Charmed) A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation stands here serving his master. (Golden Aura) A regiment of the Praetorian Guard is here, guarding the captured demons. (Golden Aura) A regiment of the Praetorian Guard is here, guarding the captured demons. A huge warmonger demon is bound by four gigantic chains pulled into opposing directions. A beautiful succubus is almost completely wrapped up in heavy chains here. An incubus is chained to the platform here. ValMiran is [TRIBUNAL] controlled. Players near you: Skribus The Upper Platform <PK> Ragnomar The Upper Platform <PK> Riija The Chamber of Alchemy <PK> Dorvan The Upper Platform [ Naga ] <PK> [WARMASTER] Vraka the Doomblade [ Human ] Skribus Vindikar the Knight of Legion [50 H-Orc Cle] <PK> [SAVANT] (Hourglass [E]) Ragnomar Wolfmaw the Re-Minder, Creator of Zombie Monsters [ Gnome ] <PK> Riija the Scourge of the Battlefield [ Zomb ] <PK> Dorvan the Imperator of the Ossein Players matched: 5 There are 5 characters on, the most on since startup was 20. The title of Master Questor of Aabahran is currently held by Ragnomar. You tell Vraka 'Savage! you best stay out of my way, I have work to complete!' A zombie points excitedly at a beautiful succubus! Vraka tells you 'Come now. I'm no savage. What work do you speak of?' Skribus snorts derisively. A zombie says 'Uhrghh?' You say 'The Succubus first...' A zombie smiles happily. The succubus starts pleading, whispering dark promises of lust and pleasure. Dorvan utters the words, 'summon'. A lost goblin arrives suddenly. Dorvan tears the corpse of a lost goblin to pieces, feeding hungrily! You say 'Your whispers will do nothing here...' A shadow's commanding presence stops all violence in the immediate vicinity. Ragnomar points towards the Altar as if instructing his minion to move towards it. 'This should be amusing, at least. I wonder if a Warmaster's drool will interrupt the ritual or serve as an augmenting reagent,' Skribus looks on with growing intrigue. Dorvan tilts his head in question. Dorvan says 'In...ter...rupt...' Ragnomar smirks at the comment, "Not this today, this day they will bear witness to the might of Savant!... let us continue." The succubus is roughly ushered towards the altar and fastened in place. A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation places the Succubus upon the Altar and pins her down. ValMiran is [TRIBUNAL] controlled. Players near you: <PK> Vraka The Plains of Zrgdl'ght Skribus The Upper Platform <PK> Ragnomar The Upper Platform <PK> Riija The Central Square of Val Miran <PK> Dorvan The Upper Platform Vraka rides in. Ragnomar nods at his minion to execute his task. Riija walks in. A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation grabs the Succubus around his neck and begins to squeeze! The succubus squirms and flails at the zombie. Dorvan looks at Vraka. Riija stumbles in and sits down lazily. Riija sits down. Dorvan utters. ' no...fight...Zom...bieszz.. Vraka says 'I'm here to watch, for now.' A glimmer of glee enters Ragnomar's eyes as the Succubus is in anguish. Sneering at the new arrival, Skribus' eyes glitter an icy blue. 'And here I'd hoped for a rousing speech.' Slowly, the succubus slows down its struggling... her arms falling to her side as she starts to lose consciousness. Riija stands up. You drink water from a barrel of milk. Ragnomar takes a small drink before continuing. Dorvan holds a finger up to his lip. 'Szzhhh...szhh... You say 'Do it now!' Dorvan looks at Riija. The zombie drools on the succubus. Riija goes to sleep. A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation squeezes harder causing the Succubus's head to dismember from the body. The head falls down with a soft PLOP. <1168/1168hp 988/1005m 559/559mv> M 20 8476cps The blood! It spatters everywhere. On everyone, drenching you and the ground. Riija wakes and stands up. Unable to contain himself, Skribus barks a short, mirthful guffaw as the blood splatters everywhere. A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation places the dismembered corpse upon the altar face as it's bloody vellum oozes into the cracks. The eyes of the warmonger demon get round and he starts to struggle with more power. Riija looks around with heavy eyelides. Slowly, the feet of the praetorian guards start to slide over the now slippery floor. Ragnomar extends his arms out as a swirling energy begins to form above him! Dorvan and friends begin scattering, slurping up the blood all around. 'Nonm....nomm.....nommm.... A lazy spiral appears over Val Miran, not yet a portal, but a clear abnormality. The Pentagram begins to pulsate even faster as Ragnomars focus begins to sharpen. Vraka whispers, 'Disgusting.' to himself. Vraka tightens his grip around 'Heartsbane' the Spear of War. Ragnomar peers down towards his Minion, 'Yes... more fuel... more fuel!' The Upper Platform You pass through the tower's barrier unharmed and find yourself standing upon a large platform. The platform itself creaks and pops as the tower lazily drifts at the end of its tether. Beneath you the chains descend to the ground far below. The powerful thrumming sound is absent here, as you are shielded by the tower's mass, and the odd glowing barrier. The platform is made of random sheets of metal. The Goblins have left crates and assorted tools scattered about. Above your head giant balloons are visible held fast to the tower by what must be hundreds of ropes and chains. Some are even tied off directly to the platform itself. Tiny figures can be seen climbing all over the tower's exterior. Goblins hard at work making sure everything is secure. An almost perfectly aligned five-pointed star is burned into the floor, it pulsates an icy blue glow and a crackling energy field can be seen sizzling above your head. In the middle of the Pentagram is a summoning altar made of jet-black obsidian. [Exits: east south down] (Glowing) (Humming) A Summoning Altar in the middle of a Pentagram is here. Riija is here. (Translucent) Vraka is here, sitting astride a white stallion. (Charmed) A stone golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Charmed) A steam golem slave stands here, joints noisily twirling. Skribus is here, sitting astride a white stallion. (Charmed) An evil phantom floats ominously, feeding on the dead. (Charmed) A dirty, old skeleton stands here with its master. (Charmed) A stone golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Charmed) A zombie, covered in rotted skin, stands here with its master. (Charmed) A flesh golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Translucent) Dorvan is here. (Charmed) A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation stands here serving his master. (Golden Aura) A regiment of the Praetorian Guard is here, guarding the captured demons. (Golden Aura) A regiment of the Praetorian Guard is here, guarding the captured demons. A huge warmonger demon is bound by four gigantic chains pulled into opposing directions. An incubus is chained to the platform here. A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation turns his gaze towards the Praetorian guards holding the other Demons and starts his march. One of the praetorians finally loses his footing and with a fading AAAHHHHHhhhhhhh falls down towards Val Miran. Dorvan looks up at Vraka innocently, then continues about his snacking. The warmonger is almost free now. You say 'Well crowd, you have come to witness, which of the Demons will go next!' Gracefully shrugging out of his silken shirt, Skribus tucks the garment into his waistband at the small of his back. He stretches exuberantly, blood dripping onto the rippling muscles of his now-shirtless torso. It starts to rain. Ragnomar peers at the warmonger for a moment and soon realizes one of the Praetorian's is missing... You say 'Minion, seize the Warmonger now!' The remaining praetorians double their efforts to control the panicking demon. 'Ooh, that one!' Skribus shouts with glee, pointing excitedly at the Praetorian Guardsman. A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation starts to run towards the Warmonger and grabs hold of him. Vraka looks at a fierce horned demon. Riija looks at a fierce horned demon. After his snack, Dorvan's movements become sluggish as he continues gazing upon the ritual. A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation takes the Warmonger with a large bear hug and strips him from the ground as it kicks and yells! Wielding the powers of Time, you reverse its flow about yourself! One hand finally freed, the warmonger punches the zombie right in the face, his powerful punch going through the zombies skull. Riija looks at a stunningly beautiful man. The zombie does not seem to notice. A zombie frowns. Ragnomar commands once more, 'March him to the Altar, time is of the essence!' A zombie says 'Arghhhh....gwrragghh!' Riija looks at A zombie. The praetorians whisper amongst themselves about their orders, then decide to help the effort though they clearly dislike it. A zombie points excitedly at a fierce horned demon! With the combined power of the zombie and the praetorians the warmonger is tied down to the altar. Ragnomar bears his lower fangs with a grin of delight. A zombie smiles happily. The leader of the praetorians nods, then spits on the ground and marches off, taking his men with him. A zombie beams broadly at nothing in particular. Ragnomar gives the nod towards his minion, 'A punch for a punch I would say....' and continues his focus on the swirling energies overhead. A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation brings back his fist and lines it up with the Warmongers face. Ragnomar voices his command, 'Do it...' The zombie drools a bit then notices it got a command. It stares at the head of the warmonger a moment, then at its hand, then right at you. The Upper Platform You pass through the tower's barrier unharmed and find yourself standing upon a large platform. The platform itself creaks and pops as the tower lazily drifts at the end of its tether. Beneath you the chains descend to the ground far below. The powerful thrumming sound is absent here, as you are shielded by the tower's mass, and the odd glowing barrier. The platform is made of random sheets of metal. The Goblins have left crates and assorted tools scattered about. Above your head giant balloons are visible held fast to the tower by what must be hundreds of ropes and chains. Some are even tied off directly to the platform itself. Tiny figures can be seen climbing all over the tower's exterior. Goblins hard at work making sure everything is secure. An almost perfectly aligned five-pointed star is burned into the floor, it pulsates an icy blue glow and a crackling energy field can be seen sizzling above your head. In the middle of the Pentagram is a summoning altar made of jet-black obsidian. [Exits: east south down] (Glowing) (Humming) A Summoning Altar in the middle of a Pentagram is here. A mirror image stands here. Riija is here. (Translucent) Vraka is here, sitting astride a white stallion. (Charmed) A stone golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Charmed) A steam golem slave stands here, joints noisily twirling. Skribus is here. (Charmed) An evil phantom floats ominously, feeding on the dead. (Charmed) A dirty, old skeleton stands here with its master. (Charmed) A stone golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Charmed) A zombie, covered in rotted skin, stands here with its master. (Charmed) A flesh golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Translucent) Dorvan is here. (Charmed) A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation stands here serving his master. A huge warmonger demon is bound by four gigantic chains pulled into opposing directions. An incubus is chained to the platform here. Then it moves rather swiftly and punches right through the warmongers' head. Riija idly chews on a long stem of wheat. You get a second shower, this time blood and brain matters. Just lovely. You say 'Violent as always, well done.... make sure that blood is spread....' Vraka rides down. Rocking back on his heels, Skribus breathes a contented sigh as the gory shrapnel coats his body. Rivulets of blood stream down his face, dripping onto his chest as he grins wildly. Ragnomar keeps his arms out stretched as he focuses his energy and undivided attention towards the vortex in the sky. Excitedly, Dorvan and friends scatter to there snacks of blood and brainszz... The swirling vortex over Val Miran increases its speed and with an abysmal BOOOOOOOOMM a portal opens right overhead, strands of power trailing down towards the tower. A stunningly beautiful man swallows and starts to wiggle off... With the fresh splatter of vellum, the Pentagram below Ragnomar continues to pulsate even quicker... The Upper Platform You pass through the tower's barrier unharmed and find yourself standing upon a large platform. The platform itself creaks and pops as the tower lazily drifts at the end of its tether. Beneath you the chains descend to the ground far below. The powerful thrumming sound is absent here, as you are shielded by the tower's mass, and the odd glowing barrier. The platform is made of random sheets of metal. The Goblins have left crates and assorted tools scattered about. Above your head giant balloons are visible held fast to the tower by what must be hundreds of ropes and chains. Some are even tied off directly to the platform itself. Tiny figures can be seen climbing all over the tower's exterior. Goblins hard at work making sure everything is secure. An almost perfectly aligned five-pointed star is burned into the floor, it pulsates an icy blue glow and a crackling energy field can be seen sizzling above your head. In the middle of the Pentagram is a summoning altar made of jet-black obsidian. [Exits: east south down] (Glowing) (Humming) A Summoning Altar in the middle of a Pentagram is here. A mirror image stands here. (Invisible) Riija is here. (Charmed) A stone golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Charmed) A steam golem slave stands here, joints noisily twirling. Skribus is here. (Charmed) An evil phantom floats ominously, feeding on the dead. (Charmed) A dirty, old skeleton stands here with its master. (Charmed) A stone golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Charmed) A zombie, covered in rotted skin, stands here with its master. (Charmed) A flesh golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Translucent) Dorvan is here. (Charmed) A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation stands here serving his master. An incubus is chained to the platform here. Ragnomar peers around looking for the absent Praetorian guards and yells, 'Praetorian, Do not let it escape!' But the Praetorians are already gone. The Upper Platform You pass through the tower's barrier unharmed and find yourself standing upon a large platform. The platform itself creaks and pops as the tower lazily drifts at the end of its tether. Beneath you the chains descend to the ground far below. The powerful thrumming sound is absent here, as you are shielded by the tower's mass, and the odd glowing barrier. The platform is made of random sheets of metal. The Goblins have left crates and assorted tools scattered about. Above your head giant balloons are visible held fast to the tower by what must be hundreds of ropes and chains. Some are even tied off directly to the platform itself. Tiny figures can be seen climbing all over the tower's exterior. Goblins hard at work making sure everything is secure. An almost perfectly aligned five-pointed star is burned into the floor, it pulsates an icy blue glow and a crackling energy field can be seen sizzling above your head. In the middle of the Pentagram is a summoning altar made of jet-black obsidian. [Exits: east south down] (Glowing) (Humming) A Summoning Altar in the middle of a Pentagram is here. A mirror image stands here. (Invisible) Riija is here. (Charmed) A stone golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Charmed) A steam golem slave stands here, joints noisily twirling. Skribus is here. (Charmed) An evil phantom floats ominously, feeding on the dead. (Charmed) A dirty, old skeleton stands here with its master. (Charmed) A stone golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Charmed) A zombie, covered in rotted skin, stands here with its master. (Charmed) A flesh golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Translucent) Dorvan is here. (Charmed) A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation stands here serving his master. An incubus is chained to the platform here. Ragnomar peers down and takes in the situation and considers his options. Snorting, Skribus moves with great speed to stand between the chains and the incubus. You say 'Dorvan! there is... brains if you stop it! we cannot let it escape!' 'Where do you think you're going,' Skribus grins, blood still dripping from his face. The pulsating of the portal over Val Miran starts to sync and match the pulsating of the pentagram of the Chron Master. Masculine, yet at the same time stunningly beautiful, a young man is here, gifting any passing woman with a wink or a smile. He's dressed in tight fitting black leather, which leaves very little to the imagination. A pair of silken grey wings are folded at his back. Two tiny horns peak through his luxurious hair. A stunningly beautiful man is in excellent condition. Ragnomar commands his zombie Minion to grab the last sacrifice from Skribus. Slowly, the incubus is dragged towards the altar. A stunningly beautiful man says 'I'll be back. You'll pay for this.. ' Ragnomar grins at the saying, 'You are paying for my ritual now....' Ragnomar nods at his minion to complete the task. Chuckling softly, Skribus tosses his head, flecks of blood and brain flying into the air as his hair flicks upward before settling back into place. 'Idle threats. How droll.' The last demon is dragged towards the altar and bound firmly in place. You say 'You may feast on this one....' Suddenly, a wave ripples through the pentagram, repelling the minions and forcing them outside its boundaries. You hear a dark chuckle. An obsidian sacrificial dagger appears right over the altar, floating in a lazy circle. Dorvan peers around himself intently. Dorvan gazes at you, vacantly. Anume says 'Some things, require personal dedication.' Riija hands his head low and walks away. Ragnomar takes his place upon the altar and peers at the awaiting dagger... Riija walks down. Dropping to one knee, Skribus continues to look onward with both amusement and reverence. The incubus peers at everyone with pure hatred, as if committing them to memory. Ragnomar snatches the dagger the air infront of him, time freezes for a moment as he holds it above the Incubus. PULSE. A wave ripples through the power, rebounding off the pentagram and shooting up to the portal. With a pulse of temporal energy, Ragnomar accelerates time a few seconds as he drives the Obsidian dagger into the heart of the Incubus! A tfulza looks at the portal with interest and starts crawling up the tower to reach it. The incubus screams! Ragnomar peers up at the tfulza, 'Trespasser!' Blood spattering from the wound and his mouth, it takes a moment to die. Vraka walks in. Ragnomar extends his hands and a ray of dark energy is thrown towards the Tfulza! The tfulza has reached the roof of the tower now, trying to get into the portal. Crsssspppp. A nicely done tfulza falls off the tower. Wielding the powers of Time, you reverse its flow about yourself! It actually smells ... delicious. Grinning at the crispy corpse, Skribus nods to Dorvan. 'Dinner time.' Ragnomar peers at the portal to assume it is stable for travel. Dorvan looks on hungrily. Ragnomar gives a commanding order to the Goblins within the Tower! Blood fills the lines of the pentagram, the red swirling, turning to black slowly. The portal over Val Miran opens as the pentagram releases its power! You yell 'Goblins! release the anchors, release the chains!' Looking longingly at the blood floating through the air, Skribus inhales deeply. Ragnomar peers up into the sizzling image above him. Goblins hurry everywhere falling over each other and over you but still getting things done rather fast. The Savant Tower starts to float towards the portal, it's anchor chains releasing it from the ground. Ragnomar contines to keep his arms spread to focus on channeling the portals energy. With a whoooosh it is sucked inside the portal! Time stands still for a moment as you see... things that are hard to describe. Dorvan continues his vacant gaze. Ragnomar peers around slowly and takes in the spectacle. Watching with interest, Skribus stares intently at the scene unfolding overhead. Ragnomar peers around himself, 'For those you have not traveled between space and time before, I sincerely hope you did not have a big meal prior....' Vraka frowns. Things turn a bit weird. Dorvan looks guilty. A zombie smirks. The hundreds of zombies surrounding you nod slowly as they disintegrate only to put themselves back together. Licking a few flecks of blood off his lips, Skribus grins. 'Oh, I've not eaten. Famished, actually.' [ Human ] [Male] Skribus Vindikar the Knight of Legion Players matched: 1 The pink sun slowly sets in the water underneath you. A herd of tfulza grazes on your skin. Skribus turns into a blue apple. Ragnomar grins at the sight as he gauges the expressions in the room. Vraka says 'What is this magic!' You say 'Consider this an awakening....' You peer intently at Vraka. Vraka seems astonished, looking on. A zombie points excitedly! A zombie says 'Uhghhhh.....rrarrgghh...' A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation stands next to the other zombie... The zombies stand one piled on the other, wearing red clown noses. Dorvan looks about, confused. Vrakas' weapons turn into small rubber ducks. Players near you: <PK> Vraka Inside the Portal Skribus Inside the Portal <PK> Ragnomar Inside the Portal <PK> Dorvan Inside the Portal Inside the Portal All around you things happen that your mind does not manage to grasp. [Exits: none] (Glowing) (Humming) A Summoning Altar in the middle of a Pentagram is here. (Translucent) Vraka is here. A weird looking animal is here. (Charmed) A stone golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Charmed) A steam golem slave stands here, joints noisily twirling. Skribus is here. (Charmed) An evil phantom floats ominously, feeding on the dead. (Charmed) A dirty, old skeleton stands here with its master. (Charmed) A stone golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Charmed) A zombie, covered in rotted skin, stands here with its master. (Charmed) A flesh golem stands here to do his master's bidding. Dorvan is here. (Charmed) A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation stands here serving his master. Ragnomar grows three different beards, one between his eyes. Vraka double grips his ducks. 'Squaaaak!' Vraka frowns. Ragnomar strokes all three beards with three arms. Grinning at the spectacle, Skribus bares his teeth at the sight of all the oddities. All the while infinity rushes by. Vraka yells 'Ragnomar! What have you done!' Inside you, another portal pops open. Or is it below you? An echo of deep laughter begins to resonate through the void as Ragnomar cackles with glee. Vraka seems to be taking great care to look everywhere at once. You hear the pentagram sorcerer scream like a girl as the Tower heads right towards him at abysmal speed. You get a very close look at the pentagram sorcerer. Apparently his pentagram and this one somehow interfered. Ragnomar graps hold of the nearest fixed object to brace himself. With insane speed, the Savant Tower heads right at the Pentagram's summoning altar! At the very last moment the screaming pentagram sorcerer throws up his hands and the tower is thrown back inside the portal. Ragnomar's eyes widden with fear for a moment. A zombie says 'Ohhhhh.' 'Oooh, are we hurtling toward impending calamity?' Skribus smiles faintly. Vraka coils himself into a tightly knit ball. Ragnomar peers around himself and tries to focus his energies to somewhat... control the speed. You are thrown sidewards. Or is it upwards. You say 'A minor hiccup!, I have this.....' Suddenly the portal opens and you.. fall out. Ragnomar peers around himself quickly to gain his bearings. Temple of Sreyb is [WARMASTER] controlled. Players near you: <PK> Vraka The Upper Platform Skribus The Upper Platform <PK> Ragnomar The Upper Platform <PK> Dorvan The Upper Platform Goblins rush all over the place trying to get in control of the tower before it splatters against the nearby mountain range. Vraka slams into a nearby wall. Ragnomar throws his hands up, 'Success!..... Ragnomar orders the Goblins, 'Anchors, anchors!!! A large vortex of temporal energies forms over you! With a POP the Savant Tower appears over the mountainrange north of Miruvhor! Peering about over the edge of the platform, Skribus chuckles. 'A monastery. How quaint.' More rushing goblins, throwing down the anchor chains. Xekhir tells you 'Ah, I just missed the details' Vraka coils himself, tending to his crash wound. Ragnomar runs from each side of the platform to get a view of where the Tower is moving, 'An Anchor this side!' Slowly, the tower settles hovering over a beautiful valley to the north of Miruvhor, its anchor chains going down to the ground. Ragnomar stops for a moment to take a breath... Goblins rush to and fro a few falling over the side. Not that anyone would care, really, including the other goblins. Ragnomar peers at the goblins tumbling to their death... You say 'A worthy sacrifice, they will be remembered.' Finally the anchor chain seems to be in place. Ragnomar appears drained from the energy expended however a sense of relief can be seen on his face. Xekhir flies in. Vraka says 'Such power you have, Ragnomar. Well done.' Xekhir sits down and rests. Dorvan looks at Xekhir. Ragnomar slumps a moment as he peers over the mountain range in bliss. A set of sharpened teeth appears beneath Xekhir's cowl in the form of a smile. Grinning as he runs his finger down his face, trailing a few dribbles of blood along the slender digit, Skribus nods in satisfaction. He pops the finger into his mouth, absent-mindedly sucking off the blood as he watches. Xekhir stands up. A wall of spinning bone surrounds Xekhir You feel a divine presence guide you to new found experiences! You earn 20 rp points! Ragnomar grabs hold of the nearest hard object to assist him to stand. Kadrel rides in. Xekhir says 'Quite a bit of a display of power.' Vraka offers a hand to Ragnomar in assistance. Ragnomar stands on his own and addresses the crowd, 'You have bear witness to our Power.... I hope now that Vraka has seen what is actually achievable and will embrace it...' The Upper Platform You pass through the tower's barrier unharmed and find yourself standing upon a large platform. The platform itself creaks and pops as the tower lazily drifts at the end of its tether. Beneath you the chains descend to the ground far below. The powerful thrumming sound is absent here, as you are shielded by the tower's mass, and the odd glowing barrier. The platform is made of random sheets of metal. The Goblins have left crates and assorted tools scattered about. Above your head giant balloons are visible held fast to the tower by what must be hundreds of ropes and chains. Some are even tied off directly to the platform itself. Tiny figures can be seen climbing all over the tower's exterior. Goblins hard at work making sure everything is secure. An almost perfectly aligned five-pointed star is burned into the floor, it pulsates an icy blue glow and a crackling energy field can be seen sizzling above your head. In the middle of the Pentagram is a summoning altar made of jet-black obsidian. [Exits: east south down] (Golden Aura) (Translucent) (White Aura) Kadrel is here, sitting astride a warhorse. Xekhir is resting here. (Charmed) A flesh golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Charmed) An evil phantom floats ominously, feeding on the dead. (Charmed) A dirty, old skeleton stands here with its master. (Charmed) A stone golem stands here to do his master's bidding. (Charmed) A zombie, covered in rotted skin, stands here with its master. Dorvan is here. (Charmed) A steam golem slave stands here, joints noisily twirling. (Charmed) A stone golem stands here to do his master's bidding. Skribus is here. (Charmed) A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation stands here serving his master. (Translucent) Vraka is here. Dorvan peers intently at Vraka. 'Aww,' Skribus chuckles, watching the tender moment as the Naga offers his hand. Over the new location of the Tower, the Portal collapses in on itself, sending a wave of POWER downwards. Vraka says 'There is no love between us. I however give respect to one of such perfection.' A moment's notice, Xekhir quickly watches the power as it approaches. You feel the Time Elementals grow in power as they consume the dissipating Portal. 'Perfection,' Skribus muses softly. 'Perhaps on the way to it, indeed. Now wouldn't that be a thing to witness.' The power is absorbed completely by the time elementals. Xekhir says 'Quite a temptation, I must admit' Dorvan has left the lands. A zombie spills some items on the ground. A zombie slowly disappears. A stone golem spills some items on the ground. A stone golem slowly disappears. A skeleton spills some items on the ground. A skeleton slowly disappears. A ghoul spills some items on the ground. A ghoul slowly disappears. A flesh golem spills some items on the ground. A flesh golem slowly disappears. The Upper Platform You pass through the tower's barrier unharmed and find yourself standing upon a large platform. The platform itself creaks and pops as the tower lazily drifts at the end of its tether. Beneath you the chains descend to the ground far below. The powerful thrumming sound is absent here, as you are shielded by the tower's mass, and the odd glowing barrier. The platform is made of random sheets of metal. The Goblins have left crates and assorted tools scattered about. Above your head giant balloons are visible held fast to the tower by what must be hundreds of ropes and chains. Some are even tied off directly to the platform itself. Tiny figures can be seen climbing all over the tower's exterior. Goblins hard at work making sure everything is secure. An almost perfectly aligned five-pointed star is burned into the floor, it pulsates an icy blue glow and a crackling energy field can be seen sizzling above your head. In the middle of the Pentagram is a summoning altar made of jet-black obsidian. [Exits: east south down] ( 5) A heartseed has been dicarded here. (Golden Aura) (White Aura) Kadrel is here, sitting astride a warhorse. Xekhir is resting here. (Charmed) A steam golem slave stands here, joints noisily twirling. (Charmed) A stone golem stands here to do his master's bidding. Skribus is here. (Charmed) A zombie of Traven, the Chieftain of Desolation stands here serving his master. Vraka is here. Xekhir gets a heartseed. Xekhir gets a heartseed. Xekhir gets a heartseed. Vraka smirks. Xekhir puts a heartseed in a portable hole. Xekhir puts a heartseed in a portable hole. You say 'A scavenger it seems.' Kadrel says 'Feedin ohf tha souls o' tha dead.' Kadrel spits three times, then spins in a circle. Ragnomar stands as he rights his robes and gains his composure once more. Xekhir hovers slightly, a grin etched beneath its cowl. Xekhir stands up. Grimacing faintly at the feeble effort at coherent speech, Skribus snorts and says to nobody in particular, 'And then there is imperfection of the highest order.' His eyes come to rest on Kadrel, and he smirks. 'There are many things that hold power' Xekhir says. 'Why withhold from one or another. Ragnomar peers towards the Tower gates for a moment. Kadrel says 'Correct me ifin ahm wrong now eh.' Skribus says 'You're wrong. Done.' Kadrel says 'But if ahm imperfection, wuts at make you?' You say 'I am glad you have bear witness to the might of Savant...' Vraka slithers to Ragnomar, 'You've done well. I am impressed.' Ragnomar scowls for a moment, 'But you are now trespassing.....' You say 'So leave now.' Vraka chuckles politely. Ragnomar turns around and retreats into his Tower slowly with his minion following suit. You have escaped from the Forsaken Lands. [TEMPORUM]: 'Chron Master Ragnomar has left the fray.'
  5. You can see in the first post, edited in blue, what we've been working on for the last week. A big thank you to Kass for being available for hours of discussion until we came to this result. We calculated dozens of weapons, starting with different values, giving different points for different things to see what would be the end result. Goal of this change was: - to keep it simple for everyone who does area changes - to battle power creep in weapons which has been going on for years and is a reason for the power discrepancy of mage-melee as well as some cabal imbalance (why should someone go Knight/Nexus if they can get an av 31 anywhere) - to keep both low and high level weapons viable - to avoid imbalanced weapons This also means that the areas already done will be revisited. Do not expect everything to follow these guidelines immeditately, it will take a bit of time and work. Revising some of the points value for weapons. After discussion, this is where we stand: Check uniques to see if unique flag is warranted. If not, they become rare. Unique flag gives 3 points on weapons. Defense +prof increase to 0.5/1 from 0.25/0.5. Two anti-aligns is worth only -1 points. Count 0.5 points per point after 15 average instead of 17. All fire nouns must be fire material and vice versa. Damage caps (can be lower if desired): Common: avg 27 Rare: avg 27 Unique: avg 30 Vuln: avg 24 Paralyze: avg 27 Flaming: avg 27 Noremove: avg 27 Socketable: avg 27 Paralyze cannot be on a socket or on a weapon with noremove, flaming or socketable.
  6. In case you are wondering what to roll: cabal numbers CABAL | TOTAL ACTIVE INACTIVE ===============|============================== [SYNDICATE] | 6 3 3 [WATCHER] | 4 2 2 [WARMASTER] | 4 4 0 [HERALD] | 3 2 1 [NEXUS] | 3 1 2 [CHURCH] | 3 2 1 [TRIBUNAL] | 1 1 0 [SAVANT] | 1 1 0 [KNIGHT] | 1 0 1
  7. Update: current total 595 USD, thank you for the donations! costs: Server renewal for the year ($349 + tax) and $100 for forum software renewal for the year - coming up June of next year again, we'll need a bit of cash until then 120 USD renew domains forsaken lands.org,com and .net for 3 years - covered in full by the staff, thanks guys. remaining: 141 USD (4 USD paid for paypal fees)
  8. I don't mind adding a + 1 luck for free. Edited: added for level 3
  9. Update, sorry I haven't updated for so long. Current total: 377 USD TY for your donations!
  10. While most people are busy with the faeries, one way or another, a technician is very busy, pulling levers, pressing buttons, getting things JUST right. He aligns times and deeds as they must be for the TOWER to finally move out of the dumb it has been thrown into. The shadow of a demon, accompanied by a group of undead creatures can be seen, tinkering with the Mana Pool, purple, a whole lot of purple. And soon, instead of goblins, zombie goblins rise from the pools. A trench is dug around the tower, deeper, ever deeper, but the tower only sinks instead of floating. The technician frantically pulls another lever... A goblin, this one quite alive, rushes through the tower at an incredible speed, its movements a blurr, the tower itself flickers, disappearing and appearing again, then - finally, the tower starts to float above the hole. Wiping sweet from his brow, the technician continues with his work, mumbling, "that was a bit too fast". A mage of the tower stands beside a fountain, concentrating. Slowly, the fountain starts to overflow, gushing water on the ground. An alchemist walks through the city of Val Miran, then drops something into the fountain. Another something. A few more. Not too many. The alchemist walks off, smiling. Just as the technician is done aligning the timestreams, he frowns, watching the fountain. A beam of pure energy is set free from the fountain, traveling upwards, where it hits the focal point of the portals placed around the city. The air starts to... pulse. ----------- ----------- As the time crystals dissolve, they create a beam of power shooting up and hitting the focal point. The powers clash and the energy lines of the portals get drawn in, a vortex forms. One by one, the portals are sucked up, they explode as their energy joins the vortex. Time and space distort and the TOWER is suddenly floating above the city of Val Miran. However, the interaction of the portals and time crystals has had some side effects. The zombie mush still clinging to the base of the tower is transformed into a huge goblin zombie golem, which roams the streets of the city, tearing citizens apart. The tower's base is chained to the ground, which looks a bit different now from what it used to. The western part of the city has suffered much damage, houses got hit by the anchor chains, the goblin golem and distortions. The screams of the dead and dying echo over Val Miran. A lot less victims though, as it may have been without the Castle's recruitment efforts.
  11. Hostilities are brewing between the KNIGHT and TRIBUNAL forces, follwing Knight Faurnin's forced recruitment of a vast part of the Val Miran populace. Yet has the Knight recruited them to let them die in his army or to save them from a fate far worse? The goblin zombies which were trudging through Val Miran's street are suddenly gone without a trace. Or are they? Mysterious portals have opened just beyond the city's gates, creating a focal point just over the commons. Meanwhile, the Savants have been busy to save their crumbling tower, yet will moving it be enough, and will moving it be successful? While the Maelbrim population so far has not had many people following the Knights conscription efforts, troop movements have started in the city of Miruvhor. One of history's biggest heists has been committed, ridding Ghregory of all of his detect trap scrolls as well as the master scroll. But to what effort? Boats make ready to launch, armies gather. All the while a mysterious illness has left tiny corpses scattered along the main trade routes. Some take a back-seat, watching, assessing. Some plot and plan, to rescue them all or kill them all? Where will you stand? Choose your stance wisely.
  12. Hot Change Date: 10/09/2019 cloak of storms: lost air shield, gained armor/shield, delay reduced galebinder's mitts: keep air shield, are no longer useable by mages/communers (druids included), stats slightly changed to make it more an item for roughes and melee now, noremove, nouncurse added to avoid switching to a BIS item View full hot change
  13. //=====================================================\\ ||The Miruvhor Whisperer || || || ||Hark, denizens of Aabahran! Our top story, || ||exclusively from our secret journalist in the field: || ||Warmaster ranks in disarray, internal struggles || ||manifest as dishonor in combat! || || || || Warmasters are truly living dark days, as their now || ||former members, gladiators Pew and Takoel, cowardly || ||join forces to brutally murder Niron the ninja. || ||No member of Warmaster was reached for || ||comment, but it is no secret that they are currently || ||leaderless and adrift. Could this be the beginning of|| ||the end, will this outdated faction finally fade into|| ||antiquity, where it belongs? || || || ||Have you witnessed any warfare between Factions? Draw|| ||a sketch of it and send it to us via a pigeon. You || ||may be eligible for a cash reward! || || || ||In other news, will the Knights continue their || ||ill-advised war against the Syndicate? || ||The death toll rises while hope fades. Despite their || ||best efforts, the Knights in their shining armors || ||fail to disrupt Syndicate operations. Any and all || ||engagements exact a terrible price for the warriors || ||of morality atop their high horses and preachers of || ||chastity in their ivory towers alike. No doubt the || ||eunuchs in charge of Knight regret the needless || ||massacre of their subjects and will iniate peace || ||talks any day now. || || || ||Coming up next, have you always wrongly protected || ||yourself from Ice Storms? Keep reading to learn the || ||shocking answer, which will amaze you! || || || ||The Miruvhor Whisperer || || || ||*You stop reading as you notice the remainder of the || ||scroll mostly features asinine tips for everyday life|| ||as well as local gossip in trivial detail* || || || \\=====================================================// //=====================================================\\ ||The Miruvhor Whisperer || || || ||Bark, Denizens of Aabahran! This week our exclusive || ||secret journalist in the field has a question for || ||you: How does a part beast, part druid, and all || ||criminal plead their case when Tribunal finally || ||arrests them? || ||-You're barking up the wrong tree! || || || ||It seems Tribunal is in a spot of trouble after tree || ||huggers crawled out of the woodwork en masse. It is || ||uncertain whether the overbearing layabouts || ||responsible for your safety welcome this change in || ||schedule. Surely they would rather keep patrolling || ||their empty, cat piss soaked streets than answer the || ||call of Nature. Belderon, at least, vigorously || ||applies himself to both tasks, which means that the || ||jolly bushwhackers, Addir and Sonny Chey, have a || ||serious time reclaiming the land and introducing || ||tree, bush or leaf of any kind to Val Miran. When we || ||strolled the streets of Val Miran and asked a citizen|| ||passing us by on the street about what he thought of || ||the situation, leaves and all, he had this to say: || ||"Huh, what? Did you say leaves? I don't suppose ye || ||have any fer sale?". || || || ||The raging conflict of The Man versus Nature makes || ||life in Val Miran even more stifling than it already || ||is. However, you need not worry, because relief is || ||available. The crackdown does not affect your || ||reliable and renowned supplier of leaf or herb of || ||every taste - the Family. Our establishment in || ||Miruvhor serves any and all customers the highest || ||quality of produce - provided your pockets are lined || ||appropriately. Even better, the Family will soon open|| ||a new store closer to Val Miran, so you can purchase || ||with confidence even closer to your place of || ||residence. || || || ||Tired of being caught in the crossfire? Are you fed || ||up being "accidentally" pummeled by reckless lawmen || ||or stumbling into errant thunderstorms? Quit being || ||collateral damage. Give yourself a reason to be in || ||the fight, and grow wealthy and powerful in the || ||process. Deliver a scroll to us and let your || ||intentions be known. But beware, we do not suffer || ||fools. We are especially looking for portly ladies || ||with talents in infiltration. || || || ||The Miruvhor Whisperer || || || ||*You promptly lose interest as you discover that the || ||rest of the scroll is dedicated to a rather extensive|| ||article titled: "Improvised blackjacks: A guide to || ||all the things that go bump in the night".* || || || \\=====================================================// //=====================================================\\ ||The Miruvhor Whisperer || || || ||Hark, denizens of Aabahran! Pull up a chair and stuff|| ||your pipe, esteemed reader, because what we are about|| ||to reveal will stimulate your imagination! Our top || ||story this time involves political subterfuge and || ||cloak-and-dagger espionage as we reveal to the || ||intriguing conspiracy between Baexyra Zau'und, a || ||former Savant, and Kyros Frostbane, the now retired || ||leader of our sublime Syndicate. || || Indeed, the ever vigilant eyes and ears of our spy|| ||network are always watching in the shadows. No one is|| ||out of reach, not even the Rat King himself, who was || ||observed having a private moment with a fellow drow, || ||discussing the situation of post-Zareerae drow || ||society and the rebuilding of Xymerria. Baexyra had || ||weaved together an ambitious, treasonous plan to turn|| ||the drow matriarchy into a patriarchy, seizing power || ||in the process. Alas, she was missing a few small || ||bits and pieces downstairs to accomplish that by || ||herself. Enter Kyros Frostbane, an eternal bachelor || ||and figurehead. Over tea and crumpets, Baexyra || ||persuaded Kyros to marry her in name only. Kyros was || ||reluctant to start wearing such a heavy ball and || ||chain, but eventually submitted to marry her, no || ||doubt well-aware who would be pulling the strings in || ||their sham marriage. || || || ||Such could have been the course of history, if || ||Baexyra not disappeared without a trace and Kyros had|| ||not stepped down before their plan came to fruition. || || || ||Are you always a servant, but never the master? Is || ||someone standing between you and your family fortune?|| ||Is that promotion for Elder slow in coming? Is there || ||someone out there in desperate need of slaying? Do || ||not take matters into your own hands. Instead, || ||familiarize yourself with the personnel management || ||services Syndicate has to offer. Place a bounty at || ||the nearest Syndicate branch, and your problem will || ||be solved by professionals. Impersonal, discreet and || ||effective. || || || ||*What follows next is a dubious list of courtship || ||advice for the esteemed esquire. You grimace and tuck|| || the scroll away.* || || || \\=====================================================// //=====================================================\\ ||The Miruvhor Whisperer || || || ||Excited harkings, denizens of Aabahran! Do not || ||mistake respite for repose. Even if the unseen mouth || ||whispering in your ear has remained silent, or the || ||Hand grasping the quill is distracted, the eyes have || ||not grown neither dim nor milky. They remain ever || ||behind you, watching. || || || ||Reality twists as the Pendulum swings, and Vanguard || ||cries for every deluded fool and overconfident madman|| ||to assist them in their foolhardy scheme to sabotage || ||the construction of the highway spanning Val Miran || ||and Ofcol. Avatar Ithric, pet of gods and an obstacle|| ||on the path of progress, will no doubt lead these || ||puppets directly into the thick of it, only to be || ||crushed as the Pendulum comes crashing back. || || || ||Elsewhere, the Order of the Eunuchs, also known as || ||Knights, are attempting to grow a pair. Their || ||delusional regent, Kimril, has been seen communing || ||with a visitor from beyond the grave. No doubt the || ||haunting damaged the delicate constitution of his || ||mind, which explains the stronger than usual zealotry|| ||he is inciting. || || || ||Lately, a former piss street patroller, Belderon, has|| ||taken up to him to make a road between Ofcol and Val || ||Miran. No doubt his motives involve a change of || ||scenery, and with the current state of affairs in || ||mind, who can blame him? Draining the city's drinking|| ||fountains after unsubstantiated reports of a lich || ||skinny dipping in one of them, resulting in an entire|| ||city slowly dying of thirst, is the sort of || ||administration one has learned to expect from their || ||local governance. Truly, the best interests of the || ||citizens of Val Miran are always first and foremost || ||in the minds of their leaders. However, once the || ||noose tightens, a finished highway would make || ||Belderon's escape ever so convenient. Maybe, on his || ||way he runs into Pew the dishonored, who mistakes || ||Belderon for a maggot and gobbles him up with the || ||rest of his gruesome forage he so often partakes. || || || ||Editors of Miruvhor Whisperer are not, on occasion, || ||averse to touch even the most delicate subjects, such|| ||as the case of Wirenth the half-drow invoker, who was|| ||buggered by a bat as a wee lad, and developed a || ||burning hatred for them. Unfortunately his bark is || ||worse than his bite and, like a mutt, he never shuts || ||up about it. Unsurprisingly, he has a hard time || ||finding anyone to drink with. || || || ||Is there a rat among your ranks? An alliance of || ||convenience placed you in close proximity of someone || ||you'd rather be rid of? Next time you're in town, || ||place a bounty at the Syndicate establishment. Any || ||and all pests exterminated at affordable prices! || || || ||*The scroll ends on a final article explaining how to|| ||ward off undead using only supplies found in an || ||average hovel.* || || || \\=====================================================// //=====================================================\\ ||The Miruvhor Whisperer || || || ||Hark denizens of Aabahran! The quill, when wielded by|| ||a deft hand, occasionally rivals the might of a || ||concealed blade. The wells of Val Miran overflow once|| ||again, so drink your fill, and then slate your thirst|| ||for knowledge with the latest issue of the Whisperer.|| || || ||The ranks of the Eunuchs continue to swell. At the || ||moment it is unclear whether they gestate under a || ||rock somewhere, as they certainly are not able to || ||sire any offspring themselves. In any case, the || ||Syndicate continues to cull prime targets among the || ||eunuchs. Meanwhile, the increase in numbers has || ||prompted Arenic, a known ravisher, to assemble a || ||therapy circle involving copious amounts of group || ||hugging. It is known that the excessive hugging || ||stimulates the participants to a point of ecstasy, || ||which - unfortunately - does nothing to hold back || ||their busy hands. The hands reach out in an attempt || ||to encompass everyone with love and kindness, only to|| ||be pierced to the bone once they caress the crusty || ||nuzzle of the Mutt, whose bark is equal to his bite. || || || ||The Syndicate wishes to inform any aspiring bounty || ||hunters to be on the lookout for Pew the Dishonored. || ||This runt of the litter somehow avoided being || ||strangled to death by his own umbilical cord and || ||being fed to the wolves after his birth, and has now || ||reached a size sufficient to inconvenience Mahn-Zaar || ||to the point of annoyance. Therefore, an opportunity || ||is open for anyone able to perform a late post-natal || ||abortion of the runt to earn Mahn-Zaar's favor. || ||Simply bring proof of his death by your hand to the || ||minotaur king, and keep in mind that the Syndicate || ||always values talent for wetwork. || || || ||What do you get when you combine a Dishonored runt || ||bovine Warmaster, a delusional regent and several || ||sessions of group hug therapy? The answer: Peace || ||talks between the two factions! Speculations abound || ||whether the the runt merely seeks sanctuary in the || ||Halls of the Balless or quests to join them. In case || ||of the latter, he'd be wise to pick up the blade and || ||do the deed himself, the Warmaster way. || || || ||Concerning Kimril and anyone who listening to his || ||sermons; We are merchants, craftsmen, and servants. || ||We are dedicated and hard working men and women from || ||all walks of life, and we run a business as old as || ||civilization itself. Were our services unwanted or || ||unrequired, we would not exist. We do not follow the || ||Light, nor do we revel in Darkness. We simply ply our|| ||trade, unobstructed by such cumbersome moral || ||constructs. Our's is not injustice, but true justice || ||for those that have been denied it. Furthermore, do || ||not worry about your coin going to waste, because || ||every piece of gold you give us is returned to you, || ||one way or the other, through services, consumables, || ||and numerous other benefits. || || Are you, Kimril, perhaps worried about your own || ||head, to pen such nonsense? It is no secret that || ||several of your cohorts have already lost a good deal|| ||of height, and you're inevitably going to join them, || ||although in your case there is not much height to || ||subtract to begin with. || || || ||*As you're putting the scroll away, you notice || ||someone has doodled a lewd drawing of a minotaur and || ||a halfling on the bottom margin* || \\=====================================================// //=====================================================\\ ||The Miruvhor Whisperer VI || || || ||The wait is over, and the Family has sent out two new|| ||merchants to ease your suffering and help you || ||celebrate your victories. Satisfy your cravings at || ||entirely affordable prices! || || || ||When you were a youngling, was your favourite toy || ||flint and tinder? Was your adolescence filled with || ||constant angst and rage? Are your days spent in an || ||endless quest for personal power? Do not wait for || ||someone to come along to corrupt you! Succumb to the || ||Darkness yourself and apply for Despair membership || ||today! || ||Nexus - No lives matter. || || || ||The hard working folks here at the Whisperer would || ||like to dedicate the rest of this issue for feedback || ||and unclassified records from our field operatives; || || || ||"It is day 1024 and the Eunuchs have accepted me as || ||one of their own. I have grown to understand and || ||respect their gentle ways. Now I question everything || ||I thought I once knew and fear I am no longer capable|| ||of following through with my primary objective. I || ||know that the One who sent me will not relent. It || ||will send others in my place. But we will be ready." || || -Naruthiron || || || ||"Put a price on the old battle-axe's noggin' an' || ||afterwards she did not show up to divvy up tha cows || ||an' chickens. Will order again once me new wife || ||starts naggin'!" -Oogie || || || ||"I enjoy having eyes on my back when I pee. I simply || ||cannot go without." -Arenic || ||Editor's note; The spy assigned to Arenic has been || ||temporarily recalled in order to train this deviant's|| ||bladder. || || || ||"Great communication, fast delivery, and all for the || ||price of a few loaves of bread. Now I can afford to || ||buy food for my entire family and loved ones for || ||years to come!" -Mutt || || || ||*As you're putting the scroll away, you notice || ||someone has doodled a lewd drawing of a minotaur and || ||a dwarf on the bottom margin* || \\=====================================================// //=================================================================\\ ||The Miruvhor Whisperer VII || || || ||Hark, denizens of Aabahran! Once again the world did not end. || ||We hope our subscriber count did not dwindle too much in these || ||harsh times. || || || ||The once sovereign city-state of Ofcol has fallen under the || ||tyranny of Tribunal. The oppressors burned down the ancient || ||forest just south of Val Miran and carved a highway through the || ||landscape. Our more freedom orientated readers will be pleased || ||to know their project did not go as smoothly as they anticipated,|| ||as forces of nature emerged from the flames to lay waste on || ||Val Miran. This caused a widespread panic in Belderon and his || ||castrated lackeys. According to one eyewitness, Pew the || ||Dishonored was also present, screaming with his face beet red. || ||The runt was reportedly heard yelling:"GESTATE BEHIND MY SHIELD!"|| ||It is unclear whether those were his exact words, but they had || ||the desired effect on the eunuchs, who were glad to huddle behind|| ||someone and thus lived to fight cowardly another day. || ||Furthermore, word soon reached Val Miran that the battle was || ||raging all over Aabahran, with all the major cities being under || ||attack by the avengers of nature || || || ||However, no impending doomsday is complete without good old || ||fashioned deicide. The unusual events had enticed Zoichan, the || ||eternal hangsman; Ithric, the eternal pendulum swinger and Lloth,|| ||the spider queen to assume /corpor\eal forms. Sensing her || ||opportunity, Lloth place\ \ ,, /d /a dagger in Zoichan's back || ||resulting in strange soun'-.'\()/'.-'ds, a slew of profanities || ||and a dying god. --_'( )'_--. || || The rather vocal deat/ /' /'""'\ '\ \h throes caught the || ||interest of Ithric, who | | >< | | came to investigate, only || ||to discover the deadly \ \ / /dagger in their back as || || '.__.' well! || ||Who would have thought the orbb elg'caress Lloth, betrayer of || ||betrayers, were capable of such betrayal? Here at the Whisperer || ||we are aware of several persons who suddenly found a new religion|| ||due to her skillful backstabs. || || Luckily, one of Syndicate's own soul peddlers were there to || ||offer her services to save the fallen god, Zoichan. Not content || ||to sit on the sidelines, Lloth once again intervened and snatched|| ||the soul intended for Zoichan to save Ithric instead, forcing || ||Belderon to watch in horror as his god expired in exquisite || ||agony. || || || ||The Family's influence grows steadily, and the eunuchs are || ||helpless against it. The war they have fought in vain for a good || ||fifty years was begun by their regent of that time, Leothyre, who|| ||wished to remove our establishment from Miruvhor. Instead, shrewd|| ||business management and our penchant to resist hostile takeovers || ||has allowed us to expand further east. We have established a loan|| ||office in Val Miran, where we offer affordable credit to || ||everyone. Our services feature a customized loan management and || ||we're open day and night. In case you refuse to pay back your || ||loan, we will send someone with hands-on collection experiment to|| ||withdraw your funding and have your ass as interest. || || || ||Have you always thought you would have a hand in the coming || ||apocalypse? Join Despair, and it could be more likely than you'd || ||think! || ||Nexus - No Lives Matter || \\=================================================================// note to Immortal note subject The Miruvhor Whisperer: Issue VIII note edit //==================================================================\\ || || ||The Miruvhor Whisperer VIII || || || ||Hark, denizens of Aabahran! Despite what you may have read from || ||other, far less reputable sources, the world did not end once || ||again. Support the truth - support the Miruvhor Whisperer. || || || ||Here at the Whisperer we encounter ever increasing efforts to || ||silence us, to suppress the free flow of information. The eunuchs || ||under Belderon reportedly keep secret meetings, where they plot to|| ||remove the freedom of speech from the citizens of Aabahran for || ||good. They plan to achieve this atrocity by removing the Syndicate|| ||and Nexian establishments from Miruvhor. Furthermore, one of these|| ||meetings is predicted to spawn a new king, who will set to work || ||the subjugation of the whole of Aabahran, stripping its people of || ||their individuality in the process. One can't help but wonder || ||whether the eunuchs behind all this are overcompensating for || ||something. The Camp is the first alongside the Miruvhor Whisperer || || - The Truth - to object such foul practices. || || || ||Bottom puckering news! We all know Zoichan from his previous || ||careers as a Hangsman, a marionette dancing to invisible strings, || ||and his memorable performance as a corpse with a dagger in its || ||back. Nowadays, Zoichan spends / _ \ his time as a Lloth's grizzly|| ||hand puppet, achieving almost\_\(_)/_/ life-like movements due to || ||her probing appendages. Howeve_//"\\_r, only time will reveal the || ||true depth of the Spider Queen'/s r\each. || || || ||Moving on to lighter news, our agents are reporting love in the || ||air. Several people have spotted Ebach and Trogir mingling in || ||Miruvhor, with a shy kiss shared between the two. The Miruvhor || ||Whisperer wishes the young couple luck and prosperity in their || ||relationship and remind certain other factions to follow their || ||vigorous example and relax a little. There is no need to be coy. || || || ||The Treehuggers have finally awoken from their hibernation, and || ||the project to create a green esplanade in Val Miran is advancing.|| ||Naturally, Belderon and The Eternal Puppet object to such || ||enrichment. The Syndicate has a long history of bringing joy to || ||the people, and fully supports the project of adding a bit more || ||green to Val Miran. || || || ||Do you desire to be a gardener? Is your thumb green for some || ||reason? Do you have an insatiable urge to kill the men in their || ||iron suits and tear down their stone houses? If the answer is yes,|| ||seek for the mossy hole of Sacred Oak, within the woods of Banor, || ||and spelunk today! || || || ||*At the end of the scroll you notice very faint writing, which || ||looks a string of strange symbols arranged in groups of various || ||sizes. Unfortunately, you cannot make heads or tails of this || ||alien cipher.* || \\==================================================================// note to Immortal note subject The Miruvhor Whisperer: Issue IX note edit //==================================================================\\ || || || The Miruvhor Whisperer IX || || || || Hark, denizens of Aabahran! For your pleasure and benefit, yet || || another issue of your favourite newspaper, to be enjoyed however || || you please, be it while resting at a campfire or straining over || || a latrine pit. || || || || It is our duty to report with heavy hearts that conflict and || || strife will not become scarce in the cursed lands any time soon. || || The volatile situation may in fact escalate within the larger || || cities during the months to come. If you or your family live in || || a large city within the Empire, we strongly suggest you to gather|| || whatever provisions you can find and hunker down, because your || || mule-headed leaders are doing very little to help your situation || || in any way. Peace negotiations between Syndicate and Tribunal || || have come to a grinding halt, mainly due to Belderon demanding || || impossible terms while not actually in a position to do so, and || || in his hubris rejecting entirely reasonable counter offers. The || || Whisperer has reminded you previously, that your leaders may not || || have your best interests at heart. Do not forget that Belderon's || || actions in the past have frequently bloodied his hands with the || || blood of his subjects. || || || || Meanwhile, a different war rages on in the shadows, unbeknownst || || to many. It is the war against information, began by Lloth, and || || manifesting as suppression of free thinkers and political || || dissidents. Anyone found not in agreement with Empire politics || || is driven away by thugs in guardsman cloaks. Keep in mind that || || these "peacekeepers" are paid by your levies. Furthermore, one || || cannot but wonder whether the Chronicles, a tabloid brought back || || from dusty history and known to some as an excellent cure for || || insomnia, might soon face persecution from the Empire as well. || || Not that their current efforts fare exceptionally well, as a || || certain dwarf who wandered to the wrong district at the wrong || || time can attest. || || || || Remember to visit your local establishment and purchase what || || you need to ride out this storm to come. Despite the raging war, || || our shelves are stocked with the finest goods, as always. Also, || || do not forget to apply for a membership by bringing in a || || recognizable head as proof of your deed. We are confident in || || your abilities to choose the right targets for yourselves. || || || || *The rest of this perhaps needlessly long scroll is just blank, || || soft paper separated into segments with perforated lines. || || How curious.* || | | | | | | | | | | | | //==================================================================\\ || || || The Miruvhor Whisperer || || Environmental Issue I || || || || It has been several decades since mugwort has been identified || || in the wild by a credible source, and it is safe to assume the || || plant no longer exists. Mugwort was enjoyed by many as a || || restorative and recreational herb, and it reportedly bestowed || || its users with euphoria not unlike one extracted from the || || colorful poppy plant. However, mugwort also contains a powerful || || hallucinogenic compound, which disturbed one's sensation of time.|| || The plant is described in detail in the old Syndicate || || manuscripts, the following being an excerpt from an anonymous || || author: || || || || "...the halfling carefully ground up the dried mugwort in || || mortar and pestle to fine substance, then tip'd the dust in a || || Glass-vessel and added a considerable amount of spirits, so that || || it brimmed. Afterwards, the brownish liquid was poured on fresh || || straw, through which it seeped and was gathered, and then dried || || to sticky substance. When mix'd with common tabac, the || || concoction produced acrid smoke upon burning which, if breath'd || || in, causes a sensation of ecstasy. After the initial euphoria, I || || partook of the smoke yet again, this time perceiving my || || surroundings moving gradually faster and, indeed, I stared in || || wonder and stupor as the halfling went about his movements with || || unnatural haste. The effect of the drug lasted only for a few || || hours, yet when I came back to my senses, I could have sworn a || || several days had passed by me..." || || || || It is unclear why mugwort disappeared from Aabahran, but || || because the plant grew somewhere within the Val Miran area, one || || can venture a guess that habitat destruction is at least || || partially to blame. Val Miran and its neighboring urban centers || || place considerable strain on the forests surrounding them. Who || || knows, perhaps mugwort grew only in one select location, that || || got trampled and scorched by fire giant loggers? Whatever the || || case, one cannot help but wonder what other unique and priceless || || natural resources are lost for good in the wake of massive || || projects, such as the road to Ofcol. || || || \\==================================================================// //==================================================================\\ || || || The Miruvhor Whisperer XI || || || || *This parchment, a duplicate of the original, retains the shaky || || penmanship and crossed-over words of the original. Illegible || || words are scrawled on the margins.* || || || || Hark! Citizens of Aabahran! The Empire seeks to spread lies || || about your well-being! BUT YOU KNOW THE TRUTH! And the truth is || || not with the Midget's Lies. Neither is it found in the False - || || FAT - fabrications the Priest preaches. None of it is true. They || || are all aligned against bringing me down - to bringing US down. || || Stay critical. Stay vigilant. There are greater forces at work || || here. There are... Things. In the shadows, waiting. Watching. || || Always watching. They think I cannot see them, but I do... || || || || The accursed Tribunal has forsook all pretense of civility and || || benevolence. There is a crackdown in progress against legitimate || || businesses. A foolish move. IT WILL cost innocent lives - Nothing|| || foreign for the trollops of the Empire. Your lives mean NOTHING || || in the grand scheme. You cannot stand between desperate people || || and their desires. If you're cut off, force your way in. If you || || cannot, a Warmaster will assist you. || || || || Short on resources? Strapped for cash? Come get your affordable || || loans from the Family. Here's the caveat. Remember to always pay || || your debts, or lose your wits. Along with your head. Or ass. Your|| || choice. A more direct route is available. Syndicate is in the || || market for severed heads of tribunal judges. Bring them to || || Lykiss, who purchases them for one million gold coins each. || || || || The Empire wants peace. They express their desire for it by || || exiling both Hands of the Rat Queen under flimsy excuses. Such || || arrogancy knows no bounds, but they are forgetful. Oh, yes. A || || dangerous mistake to forget. Who supplied the incendiaries to || || burn the forest? Very dangerous goods to transport over long || || distances. Volatile. Would have to be manufactured and stored || || nearby. Hidden, underground stockpiles. Fire-safety might || || occasionally be... lax. || || || || A giant, black owl found its way to Syndicate's printing shop. || || Made its nest in the rafters. A dire portent. I had the archers || || down it, but afterwards they brought me a message it carried. || || Here's your reply: NO. The issues already have their rightful || || place within your halls, provided by us. And not a word will be || || changed. || || || \\==================================================================// //==================================================================\\ || || || The Miruvhor Whisperer XII pt.1 || || || || Hark, denizens of Aabahran! After a brief hiatus, we are proud to|| || present yet another quality news report for our beloved readers. || || || || The massive project to build a highway from Ofcol to Val Miran || || remains unfinished to this day. The woods were hacked and burned,|| || but the highway is no more than a scar in the earth, scant wider || || than a cattle path crossing a sea of ashes. Perhaps this massive || || failure is the reason which drove Belderon, the leader of || || Tribunal, to a remote log cabin along the clear-cut swath of || || forest. Miruvhor Whisperer managed to acquire a Tribunal report, || || which clearly describes the conditions surrounding Belderon's || || death. He was found hanged with his own belt in a broom closet. || || A rather a tragic incident. || || || || Although not widely liked person, Belderon had quite the || || influence on the people who supported him. It seems that his || || followers have done just what he always preached in life: || || "Follow your leader". || || One of the Bloodguard hanged himself from a pole just north of || || the central square of Val Miran. The curious details in this case|| || are the multiple stab wounds in the back and the lack of blood || || splatters on the scene, indicating that the stabbings occurred || || elsewhere and the Bloodguard then somehow arrived to the square || || and hanged himself. Another clue found on the corpse is a note, || || pinned to the chest with a curious looking dagger. On the note, || || someone had carelessly doodled, in blood, a large hand. The body|| || was found just outside the Syndicate's Val Miran office branch. || || The crime is not being investigated, and an official Tribunal || || report lists the cause of death as suicide. || || || || Similar "suicide" happened in the eastern district of Miruvhor,|| || where a Bloodguard was found disemboweled, with a similar note || || pinned with a dagger to one of his eye sockets. The Bloodguard || || had been assigned to stand guard at the Black Market of Miruvhor.|| || || || There's no two without three. An eyewitnesses report describes || || yet another Bloodguard being strung up on an inverted cross in || || the forum of Maelbrim - on the very gallows Tribunal uses to || || execute people. A similar note with a bloody hand on it was || || plunged in this bastard's chest as well. Shortly afterwards, two || || unidentified rogues were spotted ambushing and knocking out the || || Marshall of Maelbrim. Using a smoke screen, the rogues managed to|| || evade the marshall's bodyguards and kidnap the Marshall under || || their very noses. || || || || || \\==================================================================// //==================================================================\\ || || || The Miruvhor Whisperer XII pt.2 || || || || Tribunal acted swiftly, and the corpses were removed from || || Miruvhor and Maelbrim - but curiously, the one in Val Miran still|| || remains. Tribunal also recovered their kidnapped Marshall of || || Maelbrim, although there appears to be no official report || || detailing his amazing rescue. Suspicious, the Syndicate sent one || || of their most capable agents to a nightly visit to question the || || Marshall, who turned out to be a lowly sergeant sharing a vague || || similarity to the real Marshall. Obviously, this impostor is both|| || incompetent for the job and only there to assuage the suspicions || || of the people concerning Tribunal protection. || || || || Behind the scenes, the Miruvhor Whisperer has learned that the || || Empire begs the Family to negotiate for peace. The Empire || || desperately wants their beloved Marshall back - and in one piece,|| || nonetheless, as well as an end to the war that costs so dearly || || each and every day as loss of both militia and innocent life. || || || || We wish to end this rather gloomy and violent news report with || || some good news: The Syndicate office in downtown Val Miran has || || reopened and services the public once more. The hard-working || || people there wish to remind you that every man has a price and || || everything is for sale, provided the price is right. So, line || || your pockets with coin, pay us a visit, and we will remove the || || obstacles in your path to success. || || || || *A section at the end of this scroll, set off by dotted lines, || || states the following: "The bearer of this certificate, upon || || placing a bounty of 100000 coins or more at any Syndicate bounty || || office, is entitled to a 50% discount when purchasing a lovingly || || crafted, hand-made plush toy of the Rat Queen. Extremely limited || || edition. Highly collectible. Perfect for children of any age. || || Offer valid as long as supplies last. Must provide valid || || directions to living residence upon purchase. Allow two to three || || months for delivery. The Syndicate reserves the right to refuse || || selling to certain individuals. The Syndicate is not responsible || || for merchandize lost during delivery. All sales are final. || || No refunds.* || || || \\==================================================================// //==================================================================\\ || || || The Miruvhor Whisperer XIII || || || || Hark, citizens of Aabahran! Our field reporters, after a thorough|| ||flogging, have returned from their "vacation", and information || ||once again flows from our pens into your minds. Beware of fake || ||news, accept only the guaranteed facts presented by the one and || ||only Miruvhor Whisperer! || || || || The Knights of the realms have all but vanished into the || ||woodwork, and the throne of the Crown Regent gathers dust. Alas, || ||a new champion - with a peculiar background - has emerged to || ||claim a throne of his own. Squeaking with fury, a dirty man-rat || ||has clawed its way out of the ValMiran dump with a thousand || ||vermin hot at its tail. Those with ultrasonic hearing recounted || ||that the repulsive thing chanted "KING ME!" over and again, until || ||a crown fashioned out of offal was placed on its head. || ||Immediately after the hasty coronation, the thing darted towards || ||the great Tower in the east with malevolent intent. || || || || Meanwhile, pressures are mounting at the Great wall of Aabahran. || ||The man in charge, Kesrick, is having a bad time overseeing the || ||wall's reinforcement. It is uncertain what is causing the || ||commander's sour mood, but the pervasive stench of spoiling lamp || ||oil in massive stockpiles combined with regular discoveries of || ||coarse hair in his morning coffee may play a role. It is evident || ||the desperate defenders are too few and far between to stop the || ||congregating furbags in the east from scaling the walls and || ||infiltrating the camp. || || || || In other news, credible sources hint of a coup in Syndicate || ||ranks. The Rat Queen has been ousted by the Dark Bitch herself as || ||a reward for successfully flushing out the corrupt Tribunal || ||council, forcing Nemist to hastily retreat, and making Raynald || ||reflect on his life choices. || || || || Every day, something we do makes your life better. || ||Assassinations? We do those. Espionage? We do those. Taxes? Well, || ||no. We don't do taxes, although we have collected them. When the || ||job absolutely has to be done, remember: || || || ||the Syndicate cares for you. || || || || *At the end of this scroll, someone has drawn a rat next to an || ||elaborate maze with a block of cheese in the middle. A text below || ||states: "Help the Rat Queen navigate the maze and find the prize || ||in the center!"* || || || \\==================================================================//
  14. Tomb of ancients updated.
  15. Steel is done. Check out champion and foregemen as well. Funnily enough acc ring is one of the items which is already completely balanced acc to the new point system.
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