PLAYER BLURBS.
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Noise like thunder roared through the hollow ground that was
called
"Black Rock". Built from a mining colony this town has heard many
sounds.
But this one was nearly forgotten since the Orc-Wars. Pumping steel from the
blacksmiths
house.
The two Dwarves sneaked up the house and Bilbur Streckenläufer, townguide
of Black
Rock peered through the window. Inside thick smoke covered the room, only to
be lightned
up like some unearthly being by the sparks the sledge-hammer produced while
hitting pure,
hot steel. No information gained he turned to Druckfest Papierstau, of
the
media coucil.
"Whats going on in there?" he asked, gazing into the eyes of
the reporter.
"How should I know?" Papierstau replied, but Bilbur saw the gears
of the great
mind-machinery already working in the reporters eyes.
"I have some unfinished business. See you!" Druckfest said and
turned to leave
his old friend.
"Donīt write something untrue!" he shouted after him but knew
better than that.
His friend would never tell lies...only...well...perhaps half the truth, but
as long
Sun Tsung allowed it it was fine with Bilbur.
Deep in thought he turned back to the blacksmithīs window as suddenly Tomir
Feuerglut
rushed out the smithy. "If I shall finish this order I need some
apprentices damn
it", he shouted, his face covered thick with soot.
"Whatīs going on anyway?" Bilbur asked.
"Ah hell...Tsung came by and ordered me to ready as much weapons as
possible till
next winter. Do you have an idea how much "as much as possible"
is? I donīt!
You know Tsung. No exact numbers...AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE", he rumbled
with changed
voice impersonating their leader. "HA! What a task!"
Tomir suddenly turned as if something came to his mind and rushed back into
the smithy.
Amazed Bilbur stood there. This sounded not good. Not good at all. Weapons?
As much as
possible? His mind raced. Did the Orcs break the treaty? NEVER! Why should
they? The
treaty went fine for bothe of them. Did the Dark Elves again tried something
sneaky?
POSSIBLE! Or perhaps the races of the Sand or the Plains invaded? NO! They
hadnīt been in
touch with those races for years. What was it?
Only one person to ask for information like that. The wondrous scribe
Keinwort Schweigsam.
Hurridly he approached the big building of the library..well...it was no
real
library...more a mountain of papers in an old mining tunnel. Tsung promised
to build one
as soon as policies allowed.
"Keinwort!!! Where are you? KEEEEEEEIIINWORT!!!!"
"Keep quiet...hereīs someone working." Schweigsam replied out of a
particulary
large pile of papers. There was some shuffling inside the pile and soon
afterwards the
scribes head popped out the top.
"Whats wrong?"
"Sun Tsung ordered 1.000 swords and 1.500 armours to be readied till
next
month"
Bilbur said asking himself if that number was correct. "Why? How? For
whom?"
"Hmmm...i donīt know of any wars going on right now", the scribe
answered.
"This definitly has something to do with the meeting of the
seers".
"Seers? Really? They met? Do you know why?"
"No idea my friend, but if you really want to know, why donīt you go
and ask them
yourself?"
"No no no...I wonīt go near those strange people." Bilbur nearly
paniced.
"I never liked magic and never will change my mind about it, but I know
someone who
WILL ask them."
Spoken out the last word he turned and ran out the "library".
Shaking his head Keinwort dived back into his pile of scrolls. Somewhere in
this pile
there had to be the Scroll of Millenia. Everything about Arragoths last
appearance was
written there. And Sun wasnīt one he wanted to keep waiting.
Contact Kerensky at ramonciruelo@hotmail.com
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Contact xentus at chiquitinpoderoso@hotmail.com
"Aaaah...well...thosī derty Lizards sure took sum
beateenī", the orc growled laughing, pounding the mug on the wooden
table, pouring
ale all over the place. "Yesss, but good fightersss they were", a
beautiful High
Elven woman wearing a leather armor made of pure, dark-green snake leather
whispered.
"It wasss fun playing with them".
"Matter it does not. Dead they are. Money we got. Eat and drink we do.
Your father he
is." The giant Ogreīs voice rumbled through the tavern, not really sure
what the
last sentence meant, but `good it soundedī.
Zitterhand Schenkein, owner of "The Black Horse Tavern" regretted the message he sent out for the first time. Okay, he wanted strangers to visit town. In particular his tavern, but that did not mean EVERY DAMN BEGGAR. This group of poorly educated, rough and monstrous looking mercenaries or whatever they were sent shivers down his spine.
"More ale mista!" the Orc shouted through the tavern. The dwarven guests already turnd their seats to have a better view on whats going on. "Be patient", Barbie Schmuckstück, waitress of the tavern calmed Zitterhand.
"Soon Magnus will have time for them and then they will
have much
work to do and no time to visit us".
"I sure hope so", Zitterhand replied, "If they continue their
behaviour i
swear will...I... ehm...well...i will... demand double price for
sure."
"Look at the other newcomers", he continued, pointing at some
black robed guests
in the other corner of the tavern. "They know how to behave. No loud
noises, no
boasting, just taking their meal and thatīs it. Fine guests these men are.
Well, they
could drink more ale for sure, but better than this bunch of wild
animals."
"HEY!!! Brutusss here ordered sssome ale. Deaf or what?"
"Coming!!!" Barbie answered. "Okay," she said to
Zittrerhand,
"stay here. I will bring them their ale."
"Are you sure thatīs wise?" Schenkein doubted it, but Barbie was
on her way
already.
Da Orcs
"HEYYYYYY!!!! Luk what we got hea!" A plainsman
eyes opened wide
in amazement. "Cutie-cute i would say! Cum hea babe." Grabbing
Barbies apron he
pulled her near. His breath stunk from ale and weeks biting the dust.
"Leave me
alone!" Barbie queeked. "You dumb brute!"
"Now up you wait! Me dumb brute! He numb cute! HARHAR!" Morg
NīThrog, the Ogre
thundered ripping more flesh from the roasted boar, spilling some
over the
halflings on the next table.
With a short pull Natar Kalinu, the plainsman, lifted Barbie up in the air
and dropped her
backfirst on the table. "Iīll shou yu heveen, babe!"
"Now itīs getting funny!!! YEAH!!!", a Gnome howled.
Building a circle around Barbie and Kalinu the mercenaries cheered and
growled. "Show
it to her!" "Do hea gud!" "Cum on, cum on!" "I
canīt see
anything!!!!"
Screaming and pounding her fists on the plainsmens breasts Barbie tried all
she could not
to get raped, but the brute force of the man as well as the others cheering
and shouting
soon showed her her chances of success. None.
Meanwhile the Dark Elves stuck their heads togehter, discussing what to do and how to help Barbie.
Fumbling with his trousers Kalinu finally got ready to rock,
as suddenly
NīThrog fell to the floor with a disturbing rattle coming out his throat.
Seconds later
Elena Silverhair, the elven hunter sank to the ground unconcious and before
recognizing
what was going on the two Orcs lay motionless on the table, while the Gnome
quickly
realized the situation and cowered under the table.
Taking a quick look around, releasing Barbie and pulling up his trousers
Kalinu grabbed
for his sword, which lay on the table. What was going on? He couldnīt see
any enemies.
Only shadows moving around him, shifting from place to place. Turning around
quickly
Kalinu tried to make out his foes, but failed to pinpoint anything specific
to attack.
Then there was some movement in front of him. He readied his sword to
attack, but the
figure coming out of the shadows convinced him otherwise.
"The Shrel Shakan...", Kalinu whispered dropping his sword in
panic.
"Ehm...neva mind...we wunted to leeve anywey...bye!" Speaking the
last word he
ran out the tavern molding into the townīs shadows.
Approaching Barbie the black robed man stretched out his hand to help her from the table. "My name is Schwerer Ausnahmefehler. Glad to be of service, beautiful maid. May i order some more ale now, please?" Amazed and astonished Barbie took his hand and tried to catch a glimpse of the strangers face to no avail.
"Th...thank you very much, noble one. I am deep in your
debt. Who
knows what horrible things they would have done to me." With the last
word she broke
out in tears, cowering beneath the table.
"ONE ON THE HOUSE!!!" Zitterhand who watched the show amazed
shouted. "TWO
FOR THE NOBLES!" The crowed cheered up and everyone continued eating
and drinking.
Another story for my memoires, Schenkein thought and with a smile he poured
the ale for
his customers.
Contact Grimworld Grimbreath at post002@hotmail.com
The once malicious and violent race of minotaurs learned many lessons during the rule of the Evil One. Peace and Friendship are more powerful than war and evil. Defence instead of offence. Gems instead of Iron. Mithril instead of Gems. We no longer have the desire to conquer the world. We no longer have the desire to make war. We do not even desire to fight the evil one But he will make us. Our defences must be thought. Our offence must be peace. Love is our salvation, from the evil we have known.
Contact Lak Luster at memmott@eng.utah.edu
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Contact Nameless Wizard at mikeg@northnet.com.au
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Contact Dreamer at mr_miller@hotmail.com
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Contact Murgol at andy_w@nwn.de
Chronicles of the People - A New Dawn
The once mighty empire of traders and caravanners from across the lands has long since disappeared, years of war and mistrust have allowed hate and fear grow like a cancer. The people of Traders Point have had little reason to be cheerful for many a year now. Few of their people travel openly to meet with others and trade is something done furtively, quickly and only with those who are known and trusted. This "was", but a new beginning has emerged. Last winter was hard and food even here was becoming scarce. Storms drove across the grasslands, rain pounded the soil at first and washed away the most fertile top layers. And then came the cold! Ice and snow froze the bones of the earth and mud set as hard as stone. Firewood was becoming harder to get and our people, as tough as any on this planet, were starving and freezing to death. Impossible to dig graves and not enough wood to build a pyre the dead lay in the town, the most grissly reminder of what was coming for us all. Finally the people became angry at their own impotence and that of the elders to save their children from a slow and miserable end. A council was held in the great hall and every single man and woman attended. No guard was left at the gates, such was the lack of spirit in the people and the desire for change. The hall was warm and at first this calmed some discontent voices but soon enough tempers were warmer still and rising. The council had almost disintegrated into anarchy when a dull thud silenced all in an instant. Then again, it echoed around the walls and ceiling and people looked at each other, fear beginning to replace anger. Once more the noise came, now louder than before and a young man moved toward the door as realisation dawned upon him. As the throng finally understood they cried No! and shrank back as one whilst the young warrior placed his hand on the bar across the mighty oaken door. He glanced round and saw hundreds of frightened faces and staring pleading eyes and understood how low his people had finally fallen. This above all made him lift the bar and pull open the door for he felt any fate was better than this terrible wasting and terminal disease his beloved race had succumbed to. But even as he did this he knew what was outside was not a thing to be fearful of but the promise of something that used to be and maybe more. What was on the other side of the door? That, children, you shall have to wait a while to find out. More stories soon I promise. How do I know these things? Can you not guess - who do you think was it that opened the door?
Contact Mannorr at aioras@hotmail.com
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Contact Aeren at david.mercer@easynet.co.uk
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Contact Aioras at aioras@hotmail.com
The history of Hill Dwarves is a long, sombre and bloody history. In the beguinning, they live in a paradisiac hill, where they work in peace and prosperity. They neibourgs trade with them all the products not produced in Khal-Karad, this was the name of the realm. A day, long time ago, a man reachs Khal-Karad, this man introduces himself like Arragoth, the son of fire. Arragoth a magnificent aspect ho not permet to imagine the late occurs. Arragoth helps hill dwarves to create precious things, incredible swords, superior armors, amazing shields and all instruments and jewelry possible, all of that has superior quality..... Arragoth lives betwin dwarves many years, alwais helping, alwais corrupting, together poisoning all dwarves actions..... In the meantime dwarves so engrossed on their work, couldnīt see all Arragoth plans. In few years, relations with neibourgs where broken, and the war begun. Over 100 years of war let hill dwarves without reaction against the sneak attack of Arragoth and his Lava Legions. The pillage was atroce, only a few lucky dwarves could escape to the dead. After many perils the survivors arrive to Camp Jollymount, a hideous swamp, ho provides food and materials to survive... Today hill dwarves has only an idea, to return to Khal-Karad and kill Arragoth... Babys are educate to hate Arragoth and fight against all people ho try evite the dwarf destination. Now hill dwarves are prepared to beguin a new empire, and nobody can stop them.....
Contact carfax at carfax1971@hotmail.com
I'm interested in forming an alliance of elemental wizards. I'm research water. Combined with people researching fire, earth, air would have all the bases covered. Does anyone have Wood, Iron or Mithril they would be interested in trading for Gems or Stone.
Contact Grom Z. Weevil at duncstef@cyberus.ca
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