PLAYER BLURBS.
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Contact Rusty Raven at hmwow@hotmail.com
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Contact Kayla the Great at tinker45@prodigy.net
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Contact Shades Realm at mike@crimsontide.dk
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Contact Merlin at tmccoy@flash.net
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Contact Graynard at grey@asp.advantest.co.jp
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Contact Strallen at auckland@netactive.co.za
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Contact Tamori at angelw11@hotmail.com
Greetings from Kingdom of Kalintal. Our Crusade against the remnants of the Dreadlord's forces proceeds apace with the slaughter of several of his soldiers with out loss by our brave dwarven soldiers. The expedition continues this turn heading deeper into the heart of brigands domain. we hope to soon find their training ground and destroy it so that we can be assured no further incursions will take place. Back in our capital, a blacksmith has taken up residence claiming that our volcanic heat will allow him to make the best weapon the world has ever seen. Even if he can only produce basic weapons they shall be better than the spears and pitchforks our troops are fighting with now. We have also finished the path around our fair mountain so those who wish to tour its rugged beauty may do so with out risk to life and limb. Great news for our Minotaur subjects, The Paladin Boric Stoneheart has decides to grace us with his presence and has taken a Holy Vow to clear the Cyclops that is befouling their graveyard. He then vows to lead our armies on a grand crusade vs. the wizard Fon who has insulted not only the High King but the whole Kingdom of Kalintal. Darlan Silvertounge Spokesman for Gorlock High King of Kalintal
Contact Gorlock at kentdyer@usa.net
I am Upa, Dark Queen of the Amazons. We struggled long and hard against the Dreadlord to defend our homes in the Basfma Basin. Neither He, nor his forces ever reached our capital, Deep Vinla. With his passing we have begun to expand our territory back to its traditional size and power. Construction has begun again and the people are happy. My jungle palace is open to any and all who would like to visit and open diplomatic negotiations in this new era.
Contact Upa at japst59+@pitt.edu
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Contact Gerog the Mighty at stowey@aol.com
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Contact Nameless Wizard at parker.henry@malcol.org.uk
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Contact Urza at bigelow_r@hotmail.com
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Contact Maverick at drayko@hotmail.com
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Contact Goratrix at liquidamber@hotmail.com
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Contact Shadow at goblin@hotnet.net.au
Valarus woke early on this Winter morning. Shadow Stretch was always a nice cool temperature, but this morning was unusually cold. He moved to the edge of his room and removed a heavy suit of leather from a chest on the wall. Armor wasn't something that Valarus normally wore, but the days are getting harder and tensions are rising. He carefully tightened every strap and lace. Looking in the silver mirror he realized how much like his father he looked in this suit of armor, his father was a great warrior during the time of the Dreadlord. After strapping a sword to his side and draping a cloak over his shoulders, he thought to himself that he never dreamed of the day that this would be necessary. I am wizard, he thought. Sounds of a crowd started to form outside his balcony. He walked out of his door and down the stairs into a large hallway, slowly moving toward a set of large double doors with guards at either side. The guards salute, and without hesitation open the door. He returned the salute and walked through the door into a large, ornatly decorated room. Statues of warriors, decorated with gems lined the sides of the room. He cast a descreet glance to the right at a statue of his father, this was the hall of hero's and a slight smile crossed his face as he thought how he would be here one day. Two more guards were at the door at the end of the room, again they salute and again the doors opened. "AH! Valarus! I thought you were going to be late..Haha" * "King Ablert, you know better than that" Valarus started to bow... "And YOU Valarus, know better than that! hahaha" * "King Ablert, it is good to see you again..Hope things are going well for you during this cool Winter.." King Ablert lifts from his chair, moves to Valarus and smacks him on the back.. "You won't come to your king? Your king with then come to you! No bowing here, shake my hand boy!" Valarus shakes the Kings hand.. * "King Ablert, you know I respect you, and my father was a good friend to you..But we are here to do what must be done..Times are changing and the fight to survive has begun.." The king waves his hand in the air. "I know.... ...I know...Then let's get this over with...We must begin" The king asks two of his guards to follow him, and Valarus follows right beside. They walk back up the stairs to a large room with doors to the outside onto a balcony. The crowd noise has grown. The guards open the door and Valarus and King Ablert... The crowd roars...(They love their king) "People of Ablerthall!" Valarus stood tall and proud over the crowd and looked over the city, he knew now what must be done to keep the city of Ablerthall safe, now he must let the others know.. Force and Magic are going to work well for us, but Diplomacy is going to work well for all... He griped the railing tight leaned over the balcony, breathed in deeply and begin his speech.. IT HAS BEGUN THE PEOPLE OF ABLERTHALL ARE PEACEFUL BUT WILL DO ANYTHING AT THEIR DISPOSAL TO SURVIVE IN THIS DARK WORLD.
Contact Valarus Kalakar at brujah@pipeline.com
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Contact Chaklanna at asarat@ibm.net
These words were spoken by Nazer The Great, Ruler of Dark Elves of Thrushbile, on the day he claimed the throne from Alyana Priestess of Gyun: I am the ruler of Thrushbile. All of my people will bow me, only me and no harm will come to them. We will work together to expand and bring glory to our kind. The days of uncertainty are over and the people of Thrushbile now know the purpose for their lives. Even now our armies are growing in strength and neighbouring territories are joining us. Those who will not threaten us we will consider as allies. People of Thrushbile, do not let anything or anyone stop us.
Contact Nazer The Great at hnaumanen@hotmail.com
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Contact Tetragramaton at s335209@student.uq.edu.au
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Cheerio to all you ...hicks... drunken Wizards, me ...hicks... mighty N'Cog'N'to of the drunken ...hicks... Under-Dwarves! Me not take time ...hicks... to talk often ...hicks... better use time to ...hicks... booze and crush ...hicks... heads together. Me ...hicks... inviting you to our daily ...hicks... brekfast drinking bout. May our ...hicks... hobnail liver never ...hicks... kill us. Cheerio, N'Cog'N'to... |
Contact N'CogN'To at sw2058@aixrs1.hrz.uni-essen.de
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Contact Bellaraphon at cellis@fcc.net
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Contact Azeal at mandatar@dds.nl
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Contact Nameless Wizard at nasator@ppp.nasionet.net
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Contact Gatsu at fra@nowhere.ccii.unipi.it
Naenor, leader of the hill dwarves of Mistlevein, came into power only a few years ago at the death of his father. As a child he was well liked by his father's subjects, and was a well respected smith (though his mining skill was not well developed.) What drew the people to him most often, however, was his speeches about the way life would be when he was king. He promised to bring the dwarves back to their former glory, which all only knew through story and song. He sworn that once again the hammers of the dwarves would ring through the mountains, move out to the edges of their ancient home (and beyond), and the mithril mines would be renewed. The true silver would run like water. And he was true to his word. Immediately upon taking the sceptre of kingship he began training a army, a small group who could begin the rise of the Mistlevein empire. Click here to connect to Naenor's WOW home page, or here> to send a messenger to the halls of Mistlevein.
Contact Naenor at hammerr@wdni.com
At long last, we crack the shell of Mitsalonhall and emerge into the underrealm of Shadow Claw. Mithril! Ahhh, 'tis glorious; iron, gems, and shimmering mithril all around us. And... what's this? Fresh air? Could the legendary surface world lie so near? Come lads, we've many peasants to subdue and miles to go before we sleep. The Underdwarves of Mitsalonhall are on the march.
Contact White Kestrel at cburke@mitre.org
"To understand me, you must understand our peculiar race of Elves.
And to understand the elves of River's Grove, you must know a but of recent
history. But I have heard that such knowledge has been lost and distorted
in the world, and so I will repeat it for you now."
"Long ago, even by the reckoning of the elves, a small settlement was
built, at the mouth of a river on the shore of the Sea. Very few of us were
in the world then. and fewer still ever let themselves be seen by mortal
eyes. And so the community existed, as wars and empires fell around them,
ignored and ignoring the world. This time we call the Dreaming, for the
world seemed to us an unreal place, and we took more attention to our songs
and our music than to what other races call reality. But in time that
ended, and we awoke. Grown in number, the other races began to notice our
presence. More importantly, other elves made themselves known to us,
wanderers who lived their entire lives in the world of the mortals. And we
began to take notice of reality, and lay aside our dreams to explore and
manipulate it instead. We fought our first war, though we did not yet
recognize it as such, in retribution for the death of our greatest minstrel
while he dreamed. When it ended, mortals no longer ended the grove
willingly. Yet we could not return to the dreaming. The war had remade us,
opened our eyes to the wonders of reality and left us no longer content
with the products of our minds. We wished to make, feel and learn of the
material. We became curious. And we ourselves became more and more like to
the mortals we had driven away. Curiosity drove some to travel, and some to
create. Our bards turned into wanderers, who returned to tell tales of
lands far away, or to display some new wonder of reality. Or they turned
their talents to the crafting of wood instead of song, and fashioned bows
and boats, strong, light and beautiful. As more and more of us traveled, we
began to bring these things we had made with us, to trade for that which
was beautiful and useful. Soon our boats were well known sights throughout
the world, and we learned of things we had never dreamed. It was our Golden
Age. Our city was wondrous in that time, and we learned all we wished. No
craft was beyond our ability to master, no masterpiece beyond our talent.
We saw the greatest treasures of other civilizations, and we surpassed
them.
But in our pursuit of the beautiful, we forgot the ugly. Never had
slaughter held any appeal to us. SO we were ill prepared for the coming of
the Dreadlord. Of all the arts, that or War alone had been neglected. We
paid dearly indeed for that. Defenseless, our people were slaughtered.
Finally, on the road before our city, we gathered our first army in over a
thousand years. And the dreadlord offered to parlay. Our treasures were
delivered to him, and we agreed never to leave the grove for a hundred
years. Every hundred years since, the emissary of the dreadlord arrived,
and every hundred years we have renewed our pledge, and he in return has
not slaughtered us. For 400 years, it was the Withdrawal.
But 100 years ago, the Dreadlord made a mistake. Half only of our
treasures had been given in the first agreement. Now he demanded more. My
predecessor, weak and already half senile, agreed. Another half of our
possessions were lost. But that loss also revived those elves not blinded
by fear of the Dreadlord. He would ask again, and we would not give in. For
400 years, we had been denied the world. We would be denied it no longer.
And when I rose to Gladelord, I knew what must be done."
"In the presence of the last emissary of the Dreadlord who will ever enter
the Grove, I have declared the Advancing. The breadth of the world is ours
by right to experience and to create from. None shall deny us. We have
cowered in fear. But we know ourselves to be powerful, and we will wield
the Dreaming and the Material to bring down all who would confine us."
Contact Vanyel Ashkevron at hammerr@wdni.com
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Contact Morgenes at cjh@ecr.mu.oz.au
Quaan was sitting at his work bench, staring at the map of the entire area, worring as to what will happen this week. He has made some terrible mistakes in the past few weeks, and now must pay for those mistakes. He has been asked for a lot of Mithirl in return for the damages that have been suffered, and this seems resonable, but what is asked of him, he does not have. He fear that due to this, his troops blood will be spilled. He could withdraw them, but that would make him look like a coward. Half his friends are telling him to retreat, the other half aere telling him to stay and work out a diffrent peace treaty. Oh lord, what do I do? There comes a knoch on the door, breaking the silence. " Yes what is it" "Lord Satansheart, there is a woman here to see you." "Who is it, I have told you so many times that I am to bust to recive visitors" "My lord, she says that she is your wife" Quaan turns sharply to look at his servant square in the eyes, and grabs him by the collar, and says " If this is some one's idea of a joke, I will kill you and who ever is responsible" "Lord she looks like the woman you have described in the past, I am sorry, but I think it is your wife." " Very well, Show her in" The door opens, and in walks the one true love of Quaan, Lysa. She walks in and stops 5 feet in front of Quaan and bows deeply to him. " My lord, I have done as you have asked of me, I have stayed away and raised your son" "Thorin? Is Thorin here now? "Yes my Lord, I have brought Thorin with me." "Where is he, please play no games with me, I must see him." "Not yet my lord, There are matters of grave importance that I must talk to you about him fuirst." "Very well, but please hurry, please my love come sit and relaxe with me." "My love? You have not called me that in years" "I have matured a lot since the last time I have seen you" Lysa began tell Quaan the entire story of his childs birth, and how the sands of time seem to be moving so slowly for the child, he is already 14 years old, but looks no older than 9. "Lord there is a urgent matter that I have come to discuss with you. The Dervish empire of New Flashmer have approched me, and have asked me to talk to you about you working with them. They seem like a good race of people, and they are very strong." "Lysa, as you know I can not leave these things that I have started, and can not drop everything for them, I wish I could help them, but I can not. But let me ask you a question about Thorin, does he have the gift as I do? " Yes my Lord he does, I think he will be just as strong as you are, very soon. But about the New Flashmer Dervish, you are there last hope, already the world there is being consumed with evil mages, and the people seek your wisdom and guidance!" "Lysa, please. I can not, however, As this is the greatest thing I can offer my son, I shall send him to lead the New Flashmer Dervishes, and I shal be Thorin's advisor." And upon Quaan Satansheart's word, an echo across the lands could be heard: HEAR ME ALL, HEAR ME. FOR I QUAAN SATANSHEART OFFER MY SON THORIN AS RULER SUPREME OF THE NEW FLASHMER DERVISH'S, LET ALL MEN BOW BEFORE HIS POWER, AND MAY ALL SEEK HIS FRIENDSHIP
Contact Jarelon Tarsyk at kistom@mail.matav.hu
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Contact Dirk Litefinger at chris@gemkey.com
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Contact Lazarus at alixe@ms22.hinet.net
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Contact Ysh at akesselaar@wxs.nl
Behold fellow WizardsI am Gandalf, leader of the settlement of Gnomes in Jungolimbols. I was called to this place to help the Gnomes recover after the terrible reign of the DreadLord. They had lost their great Wizard in the last battle with the dark minions and I believe it must have been the Wizard who used his last ounces of magic he had left to call upon me to replace him. Once I came to Jungolimbols they all accepted me as their new master Wizard, and I knew that my mission was to lead these Gnomes to grow and prosper. The Gnomes needed my help, and they got it. If the dark minions should return, we will be ready for them this time! We'll spread the word of a new era, a peaceful and prosperous era!
The Gnomes are a proud and noble people. Don't let
their size fool you, they can be tough if that is what it takes. We will support our
allies, and an enemy of our allies, is an enemy to us. Do not think that we will sit idly
by while one of our allies is attacked, we will rush our forces to the frontline to assist
in their fight. We're a fierce enemy, and a loyal ally. We do not ally with everyone
however, you'll have to gain our respect and trust before we can take the step and become
allies.
Our forces have been moving out into the neighboring regions to seek out who is to be our allies, who'll be our enemies and to establish borders. So far we've found two wizards who have neglected their people. We can not, and will not let this continue. Even as you read this, our forces are moving in to liberate the people, to help them evolve into something bigger and better!
If you suspect that your troops might encounter ours we would encourage you to take contact with us as soon as possible to avoid hostile situations. And if an accident should happen it will be important that you take contact with our Embassy to clear up in the situation.
Our embasy is allways open, and will take messages from all fellow wizards who wish to talk to us. We're very interested in exchanging information, be it about map, building or perhaps spell information. To send a message to our embasy, use this cryptic swirling thingy included after this message.
Contact Gandalf at tklev@online.no
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Contact Nokalian at tommyhed@algonet.se
Welcome to the Swamp
Water:
Green, Scummy and Stinking
Land:
None, Just Stinking Black Ooze
Life:
Teeming, Parasitic, Hungry and Ugly
Folks:
Hill Dwarves, Lost, Abandoned and Bereft
Yes, Hill Dwarves, one loud mouthed ancestor and a thousand years of dwarven history tossed on the midden heap.
Yes, he had to get up the nose of a witch, which witch, the one who slagged our hills into these swamps.
Yes, she had his truename, but no witch will get my truename.
Who Am I? I'm Wiz the Blue. And I will not rest until this swamp is returned to the sweet hills of memory.
Contact Blue the Wiz at smcardle@alphalink.com.au
I am Lord Yeilan, high Wizard of the council of nine and ruler of the mighty tribes of the underdwarves. Mine is a people of peace, of trade and knowledge, we like to be left alone in our caves , but remember that ,altough our appearence is one of weakness, we are fierce warriors and strong warlocks, the stone is not only our ally but also our servant and any attack will be repelled by the forces of us and our allies.
But if you come in peace we will offer you the hospitality of the underworld, its richs wells, its delightful mushrooms, and its beutiful weapons, 'peace' is our salutation but if anybody attacks us our answer will always be: .
Contact yeilan at e183744003@abonados.cplus.es
The Halflings of the Gothamer Shire have always been quiet,
hardworking,
and dedicated folks, dedicated mainly to their tobacco plantations,
their hops production, and their many beehives from which the widely
reknowned dark and bittersweet honey flowed which was so desperately
needed for the production of their famed mead.
However, for some time now, their dedication to enjoyment had been such
that the population of these lands had swollen almost beyond the ability
of the land to hold them. It seemed that every time you looked around
there was another crop of small, pudgy halflings staggering around on
their unsteady legs, poking their fingers into the busy hives and their
noses into the foaming barrels of new brewed ale.
Not that there was
anything wrong with that, but when it started to look as though tobacco
and ale usage might start to need an element of rationing to enable it
to go around everyone, a national emergency was immediately called.
The City Council (such as it was - a weak and ineffectual lot
whose sole
reason for existance was the consumption of the best of the shire's
honeycakes and tobacco, washed down with copious quantities of mead and
ale)
was called into session and their deliberations lasted long into the
next week.
Several times emergency supplies of honeycakes and well-aged mead were
called
for to better facilitate their decision making, several times additional
barrels
of ale were rolled to the doors of the Great Council Chamber
where the Masters
of the Keg
(an honorary Council position which brought with it the responsibility
of testing the
contents of each keg as it was broached to ensure that consistancy of
quality was
maintained)
took delivery and solumnly rolled the barrels into the dark recesses of
the Council
Burrow, where, it was whispered there were even hidden barrels
remaining from the Great
Belly Stretcher year, of which the quality had long since passed
into legend, and
used as a yardstick against which all new harvests were measured.
Long the deliberations raged, alternate views and solutions bandied back
and forwards
across the council floor as all gave their views on the solution to the
problem. Slowly, as
the week progressed, and the ale flowed more and more freely to soothe
throats made raw by
more talking than they were used to. Slowly, the younger, and less
resilient of the
Council Members fell by the wayside, or, more rightly, slid out
of sight under the
Council table where their snoring bodies were taken in paw by the
Holy Rollers
(an honoured hereditary position) and reverently rolled across the floor
and out of
the chamber to the recovery rooms out the back.
Finally, the only Councillor still standing (and only because he had
taken the precaution
of preparing for such sessions by excessive drinking and eating in the
past so that he
was slightly better practised at it than the others) put his motion to
the vote of the
remaining council (himself) and, surprisingly, it was passed
unanimously.
And so was the decision made which has now passed into history, that the
Halflings of Gothamer Shire went to WAR.
Not for glory, not for power or wealth, but for the desperately needed
lands on which
their hives, hops and tobacco could be grown and developed to maintain
their traditional
lifestyle.
A war of colonisation, a war of peaceful expansion, in short, a farmers war.
We wish you all no harm, we wish only to expand into new farming lands, and are therefore no threat to anyone.Contact Metz TallFellow at rob@caverock.net
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact Sirikul at valkrob@mozart.inet.co.th
Matsu Hiroru - I AM COMING FOR YOU!!!! SHADOW SPAWN
Contact Yorl at brianis@home.com
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact Vex Megablaster at webster@eis.net.au
Grrreetings, I am an enchanterr and my name is........Tim. Underrr my command, arrrrays of the best halflings warriorrs and diplomats will be sent arrround from Mehlay Rrrrise. To warr we prreferr peace and trrrade. But if warrr needs to be waged, let all know that we field the mighiest shrruberry warriorrs everrr saw and the mighty TKoN (Tiny Knights of NI!) keeperrrs of the secrrets worrds (known to few). Now if you don't wipe that smirrrrk out of yourrr face, I'll bite yourr legs off!!!. We will welcome any envoys as long as their mannerrs arre not haughty norrr thrrreatening, enterrrtaining them in properrr Halfling fashion, we don't have that many occasion to offerrrr a Beeerrr drrrinking contest.
Contact Tim the Enchanter at robert.mcneur@ccc.govt.nz
I am Favok
Contact Favok at jacortina@bigfoot.com
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact Strigoi at strigoi02@hotmail.com
People say Malacoribar dumb just cause he so big. Malacoribar not dumb just simple. You friend = me like, You not friend = me exterminate. SIMPLE! 44 Malacoribar the Minotaur.
Contact Fon at fon@iinet.net.au
Godath Is Born Anew
Godath dreams, not of the failing crops do to poor rainfall, not of playing croquet on the manicured grounds of an estate, not of some blond lass carrying fresh bread to be sold at the market not of him being...
Godath dreams of realities. He sees images of what had happened during, before, and after the Dreadlord. He tasted the blood of innocents, smells the sickly sweet scent of charred orc, he felt the dark kiss of his father’s lips. He heard...
Yet Godath in this dream state can not grasp which reality is his. He dreams for ages, sifting, searching for the one that feels to be a the most a part of him. Finally one dream seems more familiar than the others. Godath clings to this dream. Pulls at it, tries to tame it and finally rides it...
Night falls on the people of the Great Western Desert. The people of Ki and Dagbaar are only days from being subjugated or blown away and scattered to the winds. The DreadLord has awakened and he chose the gem rich isolation of the desert to begin his conquest. It is here that Godath dreams that he is born.
His father, so to speak, is the Archfiend himself and his mother is a young Djinni. His mother dies during his conception due to the dark magics that were infused into her or perhaps simply from the horror of what had been done to her.
The Dream bucks. Godath try to hold on, months pass. The searing heat of the desert and his father’s scrutiny of his creation passes. A bitter cold winter encroaches. Godath is charged with finding the ancient portal to below and rooting out the last hiding place of the Sandpeople of the Great Western Desert, Sandhaven. Many souls are sacrificed to the Dreadlord’s cause under the banner of Godath...
The dreams rears, twists, ROARS, many years pass. A searing light threatens to destroy all that is dark...
A Djinn, seemingly made out of shadow, appears in the halls of all the rulers of Icelarna and beyond…
It gives forth a proclomation from its ruler:
My many magics have lead me to believe that thou art the one of the rulers of Shadowmoth. Be this the case we have much to discuss for the betterment of our two kingdoms…I have dreamt many lives and have knowledge beyond that of the form I take on now. Where my father has failed I shall succeed. In order to succeed I need allies. This be where he was weak; he trusted no one. Yet for there to be any ruler of Shadowmoth strong bonds of trust must be grown. No matter how wise, intelligent or lucky a ruler may be Shadowmoth is too big a realm for one to conquer all.
So my request be this. Art thou interested in an alliance? An alliance of epic proportions in which the unity of our two empires will vanquish all that oppose? Or will it be to war? If war be it, you must be prepared to cripple thine kingdom. For even if you were able to defeat my growing kingdom, I will mortally wound thine own.
Please do not be shocked by the bluntness of my words. It be one of mine weaknesses. I have neither a tongue for flowery speech nor the patience for dallying around the point of the matter. Please respond to this proposal before too many moons have past and the blood of our troops is wastefully shed.
Send a parchment to Godathbudo_dude@hotmail.com
Contact General Halifax at wizard_g11@hotmail.com
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact Londonien at londonien@hotmail.com
   I'm young,
beautiful, cute, & full of intelligence. I am me. You shall become
one with me. I am the force that draws apon the powers of greatness. I
am Prime! The very forces of nature obey my every whim. We as mages,
shall assemilate the weak to become one & I shall be that one!
Humbly bow before your Queen! Beware! Fore I am as stuburn as I am
kindhearted. You might think me a fool, but tell that to the lands I
have conqured. Althuogh I am skill in the art of war, I am not without
mercy. As you well know those that declare war on me shall be sacraficed to
the great god Aries. Two wizards have walked that road. The first was
Shades Realm, He never got the chance to pray to his god. The second is
General Halifax, He has tryed my temper and lost. He numbered himself
one of my friends, but that was a ploy to leave me open. NO MORE! He
shall feell the edge of my scimatar yet, & pay for the transgressions he
has done me. For now I give thanks to the god of
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Contact Treil Freth at grimnir@dds.nl
Long have I toiled under my masters' will. When but a small boy, I was captured and sold as a slave. My childhood memories are of constant drudgery and pain. It seems that I was given the foulest and most grueling tasks and sold when I failed to fulfill them to my owner's satisfaction. Illness and injury were never considered and many times I cam neigh Death's realm err I grew of age. At the onset of puberty, I began to manifest a talent for working magik. My owner then was book dealer. This owner was better than most in that he at least taught me some skills, mainly how to read. This was purely self interest mind you. It increase my value when he decided to sell me and allowed me to be given a wider variety of work Among his volumes were several texts that reported themselves capable of teaching one the Art. I was examining them for damage when several passages caught my eye. I read them and felt that they were wrong. I brought this to my owners attention so he could see if the books were forgeries. Within a fortnight, I was again sold to my last master, Ashatath. Ashatath lived in a foreboding tower and emersed himself in the study of the Black Art. When sold to him, he promised to help me learn to use my talent so I could one day become a wizard myself. This was just the first of his many lies. I serve the role of Apprentice in name only. I was still a slave. Worse, he would use me to help fuel his foul spells, draining my energy to keep his strong. Ten years pass as I was locked away. Never did he knowingly teach me anything but pain. I, however, watched. I saw how he prepared his potions. I remembered his wards and runes of protection. Toward the end, he grew lazier and lazier, draining me for all his spells. Each became a chance to learn more of how magic worked. Finally, I saw my chance. After a particularly long casting, we were both extremely tired. I was sent to fetch him some wine to help speed his recovery. A light lacing of one of his potions and Ashatath was some sound asleep. I quickly made my way to his library and chose some of the tomes on the general theories of Magik. A small book of spells and cantrips completed my loot and I fled into the night. I have now found a home among some common people and we made a pact. They would shelter me from Ashatath's searchers until I grew into my magiks. In return, I would shelter and protect them as I grew stronger. That was many years ago. I am now a wizard in my own right. I stand for this people, my people and vow to protect them to last drop of my blood. They shall not be made subject to tyrants nor Overlords. In this world with new breaths of freedom, I say slavery shall not come back to haunt those I protect. I am Ikaras and I stand for the side of Light. I welcome all other champions of light to send their emissaries to me at Together, we will keep the darkness at bay.
Contact Ikaras at williamg@fiber.net
The past month has been an exciting one for those who live in the wretched swamps. Many of the men and women have been working day on their assigned tasks. Our gracious leader Prince Sapphire has proclaimed the control of beautiful forests and more expansive swamps. This has brought great joy into the common household. It allows them to believe in their leader and depend on his good judgment. Which is visible in many of the tasks at hand. The Blacksmith everyone has heard about will be completed. This advancement to the military might of our elven nation comes at good time for one of our neighbors seems to have misunderstood our proclamation of peace. It was announced that our diplomatic messages have been ignored. Even after proof of our locality the people under this foreign mage rose up and sleighed two of our elven militia. This insult was obviously caused by our militias orders to advance and take control, however it has been known that we welcome open communications and even after our men were killed, this foreign nation has refused to consider our offer of diplomatic process. Prince Sapphire Admits that the offender has one more week to reply with diplomatic options before hostile actions must take place. Relations in other directions have improved to great success. Not only have other Elven nations spoken to us and created open relationships and an exchange of information, but three other races have commenced peaceful communications. Other cursed neighbors forced to live in swamps as well as those much closer. One of our new allies has proposed and alliance of the fullest sort. One till the end of time. Adventures wanted: This sign posted in the castle window has achieved great results. Lord Zasper has been hired by Prince Sapphire to become our nations first Hero in many years. The two men have been secretly discussing details of the rate of pay. It is rumored that the army has already discovered a great quest for our new hero to accomplish. All of the Elven nation has great expectations. Our nations first boat never got off the docks. The ship builders seem to have misunderstood how a ship might be built. Since then they have been corrected and the current schedule is to launch the "Royal Blue" sometime this month. As a reminder Prince Sapphire feels that the best way for a nation to grow to greatness is by having great friends. He is happy to have acquired some good friends, and says to all of them that even more improved relations is always on his agenda even if more pressing matters might be the higher priority of the moment. Prince Sapphire would encourage other wizards and nations to consider being our friends as well. It is always possible to improve our relationship. TYM :)
Contact TYM at tim.s.lewis@lmco.com
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact Gromon at jdetweiler@iwaynet.net
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Contact Licharian at rolson@magpage.com
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