PLAYER BLURBS.
|
|
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact Count Henri at hobbit@networksmm.com.au
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact tsaeb the old at pentrebr@btinternet.com
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact Algernon at jbtasslehof@yahoo.com
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact Rayke at pleite@iname.com
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact Riverwind at the_danelander@yahoo.co.uk
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact Nameless Wizard at tfax22@aol.com
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact Amidian Bokheren at david@daintreess.qld.edu.au
Continued.... "I know that an old man rambles on so...please feel free to stop me at any time." You nod your understanding, then settle deeper into the chair before the fire. You've always enjoyed a good story. "Let me start with a brief history of my people's past. I hope you have not heard it yet?" You shake your head and indicate he should continue. The old man leans back in his own chair. His long fingers tug at his oiled beard in a leisurely manner, pressing the tip to a point. "My people have been traditionally nomadic since our release from Arragoth's enslavement. As far back as our histories go, we have wandered the plains of our homeland, really no more than gypsies. We traded with the people we met, hunted what we could, survived without roots for some time. Eventually our wanderings lessened until my people had settled more or less in this place. We began to build our city, we traded amongst ourselves, and tentatively approached outsiders. Over the years we have learned to love beauty. Having arrived at Trader's Point in the darkness, you will not have seen the grace and loveliness we have strived to imprint upon what we have built here. Though we appreciate beauty, it does not mean we are a weak people. We are loyal to one another, and we would defend our city and ourselves to the last." The old man stops his speaking and turns as the door to the room opens. The plump woman who served dinner enters and whispers into the old man's ear. He nods and the woman leaves once more. "Pardon for the interruption, she merely wished to know if you would be staying the night. I hope you will accept my hospitality?" You nod. "Wonderful...well, since you now know a little of my people, do you have any questions...?"
Contact Roe at rgtp@juno.com
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact Baratus at k_perkes@hotmail.com
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact Shazam at jubjub@hushmail.com
A dwarven courtier approaches you. "As you wait for the audience of our lord IanTheBig, I will instruct you in our courtly procedure. Your deep bows and flowery words will serve you little here in the Great Hall of the Dwarves. This is not a court of pretension, deceit and subterfuge, as you will find in other realms. Here we speak plainly and openly." "I imagine you are wondering about the name of our liege. I imagine you think the name IanTheBig is somewhat silly; perhaps it is a little silly. He was born with what might be called an even sillier name . He was born the second son of our late lord FingalTheDestroyer and given the birth name of IanTheSmallEvenForADwarf. Shhhh! Please don't laugh too loudly. Our lord has said in the past that he would find some humor in his name if it had not caused him such pain. It was obvious from our lord's birth that he would be stunted even by the standards of our diminutive race. He was shunned by his father in favor of his older brother GrathTheLongOfLimb. I agree with others of my race when they say that these painful formative years gave our lord the fortitude of character and will with which he now rules. History would tend to suggest so as well. As IanTheBig was reaching the years of his adulthood, a lesser noble dwarven house challenged the monarchical right of FingalTheDestroyer. In the battles that followed both FingalTheDestroyer and GrathTheLongOfLimb died and the forces of their house were scattered. IanTheBig found himself in a position he never thought he would: King, by the grace of God, of the Kingdom of the Dwarves. It was a position it seemed he would lose as quickly as he had obtained it. However, our lord IanTheBig consolidated the forces of his house and made wise alliances with other great Dwarven houses. He smashed the would be usurper's house. After this victory, at his official coronation, he took the name IanTheBig as a challenge to anyone who would doubt him because of his size." "Critics of IanTheBig say that he is controlled by a complex about size. Those who understand him know that his 'complex' lends him strength and drive but they also know that it is well tempered by our lord's wisdom. When the ancestral mountain capitol of the Dwarven Kingdom began to shake and crumble in anticipation of the arrival of the vile Arragoth it was he, in opposition of the stubborn High Council of Dwarves, who called for us to move and find a new home rather than stay and die." "If you were to come from a race of beings that stood twenty feet in height, he would not shun you for your size; instead, if you were honorable and trustworthy he would embrace you as a friend. I will ask you to remember this, though: if you deal falsely with IanTheBig and the Dwarven People, he will cut you down to size." "IanTheBig is ready to give you audience now. Remember what I have told you." To converse with IanTheBig send e-mail to ianperkes@juno.com
Contact IanTheBig at ianperkes@juno.com
The short, but sturdy man shook his wet coat, leaving a large pool of =
water on the wooden floor next to the door in the little cosy tavern. =
"What a storm", said the barkeeper, with his warm brown eyes fixed on =
the sturdy mans muddy, yet elegant boots.
But he didn't get a reply.
"Not use to this kind of weather around here", he continued, ignoring =
the silence he retrieved in return.
As the silent man, started making his way towards the bar-counter, his =
boots left big brown marks on the expensive and exotic carpets, which =
covered large parts of the oak floor. The barkeeper still not showing =
the slightest sign of irritation over the rude approach of the little =
man kept going: "I hope the weather clears up till the morning, I'm =
going on a fishing trip".
None of the other guests in the tavern seemed to even have noticed the =
stranger, they were all to busy drinking and conversing, to pay the =
newcomer any attention. The man had now reached the bar, he sat him self =
down on a three legged chair, and rested his elbows on the bar-counter. =
Drops of cold water dripped from the man's soaked hat on to the shiny, =
newly polished bar-counter. The barkeeper for the first time giving away =
a small sign of frustration quickly wiped up the moist with a rag.
"What can I get you, something dry perhaps", the barkeeper said with the =
old trust full smile, now back on his face.
The man looked up, and when the light from the paraffin lamps hit his =
face, the barkeeper became aware of a scared and tormented face that had =
seen more happiness and more sorrow than all the drunken men in the =
little tavern, put together.
And the barkeeper immediately recognized his old acquaintance: "Hello =
there Lleopoul, I haven't seen you around here in ages. You look =
different, older but not in a bad way, I didn't even recognize you at =
first".
The man called Lleopoul fixed his stern, cold gray eyes into the =
barkeepers warm brown eyes and he Whispered with a rough, hard voice: =
"He has come".
A chill ran down the barkeeper's back, as he immediately knew whom =
Lleopoul was talking about: "Where is he?"
"Only four weeks ago he was sighted in the Underworlds regions around =
the city of Nightscar", said Lleopoul.
"Nightscar, that figures", said the barkeeper and took a sip from a =
glass with some brown liquid in it. "He begins by enlisting the aid of =
the orcs, or let me correct that, forces the orcs to work for him, it =
shouldn't be to hard considering the orcs work pretty much for anyone =
powerful enough to keep them in check. Then he expand all over the known =
world leaving a barren land, I have seen it before".
"You are skeptical and you have the right, but he is our best and maybe =
our last chance to defeat Arragoth. I'm on my way to Nightscar right =
now, with the purpose of offering my services to his army".
"What", the barkeeper couldn't believe the worlds uttered from =
Lleopoul's mouth.
"You heard me, I only need a room for one night and then I be on my way, =
I got to reach Nightscar before the end of summer, he is going to need =
my help".
"Are you insane, helping one evil wannabe god to defeat an already evil =
god. And if you succeed and defeat Arragoth, what will happen then. Do =
you think your new master to be will just back down and leave this land =
alone. By joining his forces do you really think your liberating this =
land and not condemning it to be eternally ruled by a man as evil and =
cruel as Arragoth himself".
"Look, if he gets out line I will personally make sure that Dra.", =
Lleopoul began.
"Do not utter his name in my tavern, my home, you should take lessons =
from Alexxise the vise, she would set you straight", said the barkeeper =
and the warmth in his eyes was now exchanged in anger.
"Actually both Alexxise and Grundvald the mighty are weeks a head of me. =
They too are on their way to Nightscar to enlist in the army that is =
going to free this world".
"You are all insane", the barkeeper said with a bit of despair in his =
voice. "You get a room for the night then, but don't drag me in to this. =
I run a quiet little tavern here and I don't want any trouble", the =
barkeeper continued and gave the man called Lleopoul a key to room =
number 14.
"Trouble", said Lleopoul with a laugh as he took the key and started =
walking up the stairs to the second floor where room 14 was situated. =
"Whatever happens one thing is for sure, no one whether you are a =
barkeeper a soldier or a housewife, is going to be safe the coming =
months and years. Trouble is going to find you too my friend, just make =
sure that when it does you are prepared and you choose the right side", =
with these words Lleopoul disappeared at the top of the stairs and the =
two men never spoke again.
When the morning came, Lleopoul was up early. Everyone else was still = asleep and he left the room key and payment for the room on the = bar-counter. He put his coat on and walked out the door. It was still = raining outside but the heaven wasn't crying as bad as last night. Maybe = that's a good sign, Lleopoul contemplated, or perhaps this is just the = calm before the storm and the dark skies are just shades of things to = come.
Contact Dragonla at feldt@mbox301.swipnet.se
Off to WOW Game Status Page.
Sponsor