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Tales of the Desert Elves of Dilimanas
Once it was said that we, the people of Dilimanas, were a mighty race, spread throughout the lands of Elven Nation as well as through the other worlds. But as time evolved we were driven from our place in society, driven to the harsh northern deserts to dwindle and die. This tale has long been told and told and told by our fathers, our father's fathers, our father's father's fathers and our father's father's father's fathers. And it shall never be forgotten.
It is now with a strong leader, the great and wise MITSUSHI that we can avenge the deeds done by others in the past. WHile it is known that the evil Dark Elves were the main culprit, it is little known that those whom call themselves our brothers, the high elves, also played their part in the events of the past. It is not to be made known to the general public yet, but there are those that shall feel the bitter taste of revenge in the years to come, as we again rise to our former strength and power in these lands. And then we shall see who shall be banished to the desert wastes (although we may not let nature do our dirty work, and be far more swift in our vengence).
And so, let it be known throughout the lands, that the people of Dilimanas, shall be setting forth on their quest to regain all that rightfully belongs to them in these lands. We have forsaken the ways of the "high" path. We shall be merciful for those that bow down before our armies, but no mercy shall be shown for those that resist.
Let this be known throughout the lands, until each city's day of reckoning is met.
Contact Mitsushi at wowgreg@yahoo.com
Hail Wizards, I, Aralin, master of Orcs of Dark Caverns have come to this world a consent of the council to lead the brave nation of Orcs in their pursuit of complete and unconditional domination of the world. Orcs of Dark Caverns are quiet and peaceful beings, but I am NOT! And what more, I am extremly sensitive about all matters that regard my precious orcs. Who ever touches or hurts any orc anywhere in the world should prepare to meet my wrath! There is going world through the world that Orcs are ruthless and lack compassion. Its not true at all, these merry fellows are nice and good to everybody, its their master who you should fear, not them. So don't hinder them when they come to play and sing in your land, go out of their way and they will leave you alone. Be nice to them and they will be nice to you! But once and last time I warn you! Don't ever touch any of these folks! Don't dare to break single hair on head of even the least of my peasants else my wrath will catch you and strike you down! There will be no mercy whatsoever for anyone hurting my orcs!
| Contact Orc Embassy at aralin@zg.cz |
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Orcs are sweat, neat nice creatures, living in their small hayhomes, raping their lovely orc ladies and screaming at their many kids. There is no creature more miserable in their lives than poor orc peasants. These guys are used and abused and you really should not touch these since they did nothing wrong except for being born in wrong place. Its not their fault, its usually not even their's mother fault and when you consider the environment and social conditions, its most likely not even fault of their fathers, that they have been born into this.
What is really terrible, are the latest news about the new place for breeding these giant spiders. Did you know that poor orc childern are fed to these spiders so they would grow bigger and stronger? If you really have to kill someone, I would suggest to go after spiders, they are nasty and really not worth the life that circles in their veins.
Contact Aralin at aralin@zg.cz
Como discipulo de la torre de Soth he visto la evolución de mi pueblo, su división en clanes y reinos, pero nada me hacia suponer que al final esa division tambien se produciria en el seno de la cofradia. Los magos se dividieron con la intencion de controlar a los otros y se convirtieron en dirigentes de las distintas naciones e iniciaron una batalla cuyo unico final se produciria con la destruccion de todos menos uno. Y digo hasta hace poco tiempo porque actualmente vago por distintos planos hasta que purgue mi pena, y todo por un pequeño incidente sin apenas importancia, ocurrido mientras preparaba un hechizo en mi laboratorio, algun sirviente debio cometer un error (no existe posibilidad alguna de que fuera yo quien se confundiese) y en una pequenya explosion hice desaparecer dos torres, tres pabellones, 50 casas y otro numero indeterminado de edificios de la capital de mi mundo junto con la poblacion que en ese momento estaba por alli, apenas 250 personas. Todo ello no hubiese sido resenyable sino fuera porque entre los desaparecidos estaba la prometida de nuestro Rey, gracil y bella princesa de una nacion vecina, y por cuya desaparicion nos declaro la guerra, no lo entiendo!. Despues de unos meses de conflicto se llego a un acuerdo de paz, en cuyos terminos se incluia el enjuiciamiento del culpable y condena del mismo, y que para sorpresa mia no fue mi sirviente sino que fui yo el inculpado. Tras un juicio a todas luces manipulado y en el que de nada sirvieron mis intentos de soborno, fui condenado al destierro de mi mundo y del plano de existencia del mismo, hasta que demostrase que mi magia ya no era incontrolable. Asi desterrado y abandonado por mi gente emprendi un largo peregrinaje en el que fui conociendo otros pueblos y culturas, y tambien me di cuenta que mis conocimientos de las artes arcanas eran bastante limitados confrontados al de otros poderosos seres. Llegue a la conclusion de que la mejor manera de evolucionar y mejorar era enfrentarme a ellos en una lucha, aparentemente sin fin, por la supremacia sobre todos los demas. Para estas luchas era necesario servirse de los habitantes de los mundos donde se entablaban las pugnas, con la exasperante necesidad de empezar de nuevo en cada mundo, y tener que acaudillar a distintas razas con su rarezas. Despues de varias escaramuzas en un mundo pequenyo, donde un insignificante maguito, un tal Arragoth o algo por el estilo, se interpuso en mi camino, me fue comunicado el comienzo de un nuevo desafio donde los mas grandes magos pugnarian por el control de un mundo de gran importancia. Que mejor piedra de toque para comprobar mi potencial, asi que me materialice en el y adopte la forma de un hombre de las praderas, mi verdadera identidad parece que no es muy aceptada por la mayoria de seres que pueblan estos mundos. Inicie mis pesquisas sobre los contendientes, y para mi consternacion se habian dado cita algunos de los mas poderosos magos, y cuyas intenciones no eran muy positivas, "Mandare mis ejercitos para arrasaros", "No dejare piedra sobre piedra en tus ciudades", etc. Gracias a los hados tambien parece que habra magos de mi corta experiencia. A pesar de todo mis primeros pasos en este mundo no han sido del todo malos, tengo una ciudad con un coqueto castillo, nada comparable a mi posesion en mi mundo natal, unos cuantos subditos prometedores e incluso el apoyo de otros magos cuyas intenciones, de momento, son amistosas. Asi que ya veremos que ocurre, cuando mis quehaceres me lo permitan ya os contare mas cosas sobre mis avatares, hasta ese momento procurad sobrevivir. Ithilnaur COMPLETE AND TRANSLATE A.S.A.P.
Contact Ithilnaur at phaeton@wanadoo.es
The difference between an eye of newt and an eye of bat is not as great as the difference between a man of the sword and a man of the unseen powers of magic. Replacing the eye of newt with the eye of bat can be compensated with three frog legs and the eye of newt is more agreeable with the palate, especially when complimented with a nice bottle of white wine. The difference between a swordsman and a magician is vastly wider. When a knight kills a mage, he rids the world of evil, but if a warlock causes the death of a king (or even if he is suspected of conspiring to do so), he is chased to the end of the world, and then some. While trying to evade these ruthless, fanatic, blood-hungry men of war, the wizard, quite often, is practically defenseless, as spell components are hard enough to find even when you don't have to hide out in caves or old barns. The warrior's life is a short, glorious one, which climaxes in his untimely death in a great battle for some noble cause. He may carry a noble title, Earl, or Duke, or even King. A Wizard's life is usually a short, dark, mysterious life, dying at the hands of petty thieves who broke in to steal the silver, which he obviously was lacking. He may carry the title of Court Magician. Believe me, not every mage is spectacular. Not to say that every sword-bearer is an dragon killer, but there is definitely a higher chance of earning a title by the sword than surviving as a man of the secret powers. After all, how many famous magicians have you heard of? Three? Four? Have you ever heard of Noor's great warlock, Pierre l'Merde (He gained his title by dropping dung piles on enemy forces), or of Aloria's grand Phtom-lek ? But everyone has heard of Sir Valiant, Sir Honorable, Sir Virtuous, the duke of this, the high lord of that. It just goes to show that most men prefer a good blood-dripping sword to an eye of newt.Okay, okay, maybe I'm exaggerating, but here at King Snoddy's court, I've seen more hatred directed towards old Noggin than I ever imagined possible. Maybe I should tell you a little more about myself, so as to make it easier for you to understand what I really mean. Four years ago King Asnodine the Third's court magician, Slanoggin, had an affair with my sister, Neeta. Nine months later she gave birth to my darling nephew, Nogeet. When Slanoggin heard that she had given birth (and that the child survived the birth, too), he did the only thing a respectable wizard could do -- he took me on as an apprentice, to learn all about the dark secrets and how to use them. More than three years have passed and I must say that I've come a long way since I came to him, young twit that I was. By now, I can tell the difference between toad legs and frog legs, between salamander eyes and gecko eyes, and I cast a spell or two. (I can cause small flames to appear out of nowhere and I can cause any inanimate to glow, and even to shine as bright as the sun).'F'noot,' he said in his deep, gruff voice. 'I think you're coming along just fine. Now get me some poison ivy.'He's one of those really warm people, if you know what I mean. However, not everybody can see through his tough skin. For instance, Sir Tiwan, who accidentally found his death in the garden one day when an extremely rare spider bit him amongst the geraniums. Interestingly enough, he had accused Noggin with murderous intentions just the night before. However, as Noggin was distantly related to the king's mistress, he was never put on trial for treason (which is all for the best, because the chaos it would have caused would have been enormous). There was a slight fuss at the funeral, but nothing that Noggin couldn't get away with. After all, it wasn't his fault that the honorable Sir Tiwan had thrust his hand where no hand had gone before (It had been a fresh batch of geraniums, just in off the ship). And so, you may ask, why am I, F'noot Snokhan, son of J'kard Snokhan, village shoemaker, staying here at the castle, as an appentice to an occupation which may cause my untimely death, before the age of twenty-five? Why don't I go and join all the other sixteen year old youths who are practising their fencing and horse-riding? These questions have two answers to them. One, my family will be humiliated if I don't finish this apprenticeship successfully (As if the humiliation of an illegitimate grandson wasn't enough). Two, I do not have the physical fitness needed to swing around a sword and my social status does not open many job opportunities, besides shoemaking and begging. Not that either of those two wonderful occupations are not legitimate enough, or honorable enough for that matter, it's just that magic is so much more interesting. Just tell me this -- wouldn't you prefer a dangerous and mysterious life to a boring, banal life as a shoemaker ? No? Let me put it another way -- wouldn't you prefer to sleep in the castle and eat four solid meals a day than to sleep in a leaky loft over your father's chicken coop and subsist mostly on turnips, rutabagas and rye bread? Well, I never could abide rutabagas. Besides, my master admits to two-score years, and I suspect him of many more (scores, not years), so not all mages meet an early end. Anyway, for three years, I have fetched Noggin his poison ivy or whatnot, blackened his boots and kept the embroidery on his court robes in repair. And I study; I can read pretty well, do some some maths, and have a smattering of the Anglo, Persian and Latin languages. Today, I am hauling a pail of horse manure (no, it is not a spell component; it is for my master's herb garden) when Worm runs up, panting for breath. "Hey, Foot!" He gasps, "h-, h- " He is too out-of-breath to speak, and I flex my aching shoulders and put down my pail. W'rym Hodges, one of the court pages, is my only friend in the world, but only because he is too simple to realize that mages are a poor choice for companionship. "What is it, Worm?" I ask. "His Majesty wants Slanoggin in his chambers righ' away!" Worm speaks so fast the the sentence sounds about three words long. "What, why?" "I don' know, he was yellin' pretty loud, though." I sigh, "Noggin's in town, and not expected back until this evening," I reply, "Do you think His Majesty will wait?" "He sounded angry, Foot -- awful angry. I don' wan' a tell him Slanoggin isn't comin'." I sigh again, and look down at my soiled clothes, "I guess I had better go get cleaned up and head on up there." "Fast!" I leave Worm with the pail and run as fast as I can to my small alcove in Noggin's workshop (up, of course; wizards always live in towers). In the time that I have lived here, I have only been allowed to speak to the king once -- I said "Thank you, Sire," when I was introduced to him upon taking up residence in his castle. I have no clean clothes! Luckily, another minor spell I've learned allows me to cast small illusions (that are not very hard to see through). I use this to blend the stains and a small tear into the rest of the fabric of my best court garb. Donning it, I hustle my sweaty frame down the tower steps, across the courtyard and up to Snoddy's residence itself while tearing my fingers through the worst of the tangles in my hair. "No Slanoggin?" the guard frowns, "His Majesty isn't going to like that." "I know," I sigh, "Still, what is one to do?" "True enough," the guard opens the door and steps inside. "F'noot, Apprentice to the Mage Slanoggin, begs audience with His Majesty Asnodine III!" he announces. "Oh, balls, no Slanoggin!?" I hear the kings irate voice, "Very well, let the lad in." "Sire!" I bend low to the floor, skinny derriere up in the air, "It is a privilege to serve you!"Snoddy sprawls in a large sunken bath; perfume steams into the air above the water. "Get up and get over here," he snarls, "There is a bag o' runes on that table. You will tell me my future." "Your future, Sire?" "Will you make me repeat myself?!" "Yes, Sire! I mean, no, Sire!" I grab the silken bag and pour the stones into my hand. They are the most beautiful I have seen. Without ceremony, I toss them onto the ground near the bath and watch horrified as one skitters in. The king quickly fishes it out and hands it to me, his eyes already on those I cast. As I toss the last stone, I realize that he is barely hiding a sense of panic. "Now, what do they say?" he demands. I look up and swallow, fearing just how much he can read the runes himself. Now many people seem to think that supernatural tools such as the runes or the tarot are not much more than simple wave-of-your-hand, snake-oil showmanship -- any old fool can learn the meaning of each tile or card and learn how to string it all together. On the other hand, some people feel these devices are surrounded by mysterious and deep secrets which can only be truly understood by the wise and learned.To be honest, both are right -- to a degree. Any old fool can learn the basic meaning for Fehu and Gehu or for Temperance and Death. Casting the runes is easy. Shuffling the Tarot is a piece of cake. Seeing what stones lie face up, or which cards are laid out, is child's play and any idiot can manufacture a story that ties them all together. (Well, maybe not any idiot. I have my doubts about Worm's abilities as a convincing storyteller.) But to really devine the future from the runes or the tarot, one must know more than just the basics. The depths of true meaning is found only in understanding the subtle inter-relationships between the different archetypal icons and images. Knowing that the Gefu rune to the right of Fehu means that the client will give wealth away while Gefu to the left of Fehu means that someone else will give wealth to your client. Or knowing that when the card of the High Priestess is surrounded by many cards of the Sword suit, the future deals with an internal, subconscious battle. This is the type of knowledge that raises a real soothsayer above the common rable, that marks the prophesies of a true diviner. Unfortunately, I've never been very good at remembering subtle details. "Get on with it boy!" Jumping at Snoddy's snap, I look over to see that he is now leaning halfway out of his perfumed bath, dripping soapy water onto the floor. Oddly, I notice that water from the puddle forming beneath his hairy chest has begun to slowly meander towards the scattered stones. "Uh, yes Sire. Of course sire." I wipe my now-damp palms down the side of my tunic to calm myself, and then take a closer look at the scattered runes. Out of the 24 rune stones, only thirteen are face up. Thirteen! I hope Snoddy doesn't think to count them -- that particular number would probably panic him more. I decide I'd better keep things simple by only considering the face-up stones (Why should I confuse the issue with the less important secondary relationships associated with face down runes? Besides, I bet I'm going to have enough trouble just figuring out the rest!) Stalling for time to collect my thoughts and concoct a future reading, I begin to trace my finger above the scattered runes and mutter under my breath as if I am ruminating on the individual significance of each stone (a useful trick I picked up from watching Slanoggin over the years). Out of the corner of my eye I can see that Snoddy is watching my movements like a hawk. The important stones have fallen in an unusually regular pattern, roughly forming two concentric circles with a single stone at the very center. I start my tracery with the middle stone, and realize that it is the stone which flipped into Snoddy's bath. Briefly, I wonder whether the soap bubbles should affect the reading. The rune is Berkana, "the Birch", known for its durability and vitality. Unfortunately the rune is inverted, the top pointing down towards my feet, which doesn't bode well for old Snoddy and his Vitality. Berkana is tightly encircled by four runes, Hagla to the left, Pethru above, Ihwar to the right and Tiwar below: "Cruel Nature", "The Unseen", "The Hunter" and "War" respectively. I swallow nervously -- this is not looking very promising, especially since the top of each rune points in towards Berkana. I quietly pray that the outer eight runes are more promising -- I have the distinct feeling that my career would not be favourably advanced by pronouncing that the King's future is doomed. I start a clockwise circuit of the outer ring of face-up rune stones just to the left and up from Hagla. The circuit starts with Raidu, "Journeying" which is followed by Kaunna, "Fire"; Naudir, "Desperate Need"; Isar, "Ice"; Mannar, "Wisdom"; Lagur, "Water"; Aigir, "Protection"; and Dagar, "Daylight". And each rune lies so that it follows the curve of the surrounding circle, the head of one leading into the foot of the next.I stare at the runes for a moment more, and finally step away from these hellish devices. I wonder whether I should err on the conservative side, making a warning where ever a warning would be prudent, or err on the side of keeping my job by hand-waving over the negative implications. Slowly I turn and look over where King Asnodine is leaning so far out of his bath in anticipation that if he leaned just one inch more he would fall out, sprawling his soapy body among his princely runestones. "Well boy, what does it mean? Tell me boy, I need to know, and I need to know NOW!" I quickly decide that starting with the centre rune would be a bad idea - I never have liked starting with the obvious - you can't bullshit as well. Completely at random I focus on one of the outer eight - Raidu. Breathing deeply, I drop my voice low, trying to imitate Noggin's deep voice. "Sire," my vocal chords squeak out. I cough and start again, pointing at Raidu. Suddenly an idea comes to me. I quickly thank all the Gods I know of, in case one of Them sent it to me. "This rune represents but one of the four focuses of your power." I indicate Brekana idly with my hand. "Each focus is three fold. We have Raidu, Dagar and Hagla in the west, the sunset - or we could say Dark - side of your power." I glance at the King to check his reaction. I notice he's slid back down into the bath slightly. I let out a breath I hadn't realize I had been holding. I gesture to the other side of Brekana. "Here, on the sunrise side we have Mannar, Isar, and Ihwar, representing your Bright side of power - the parts that your subjects love about you." I realize that the King must know nothing of the meanings of these words, because he doesn't find it odd that "Ice" is included in this group. I let myself smile. Warming up to my telling, I tackle the bottom three runes. "Here, sire, we have your foundations, what you've built your kingdom on - Algir, Lagur, and Tiwar." I purposely pronouce the last one Tih-wahr not Tih-wore, hoping he won't ask me it's meaning. I guessed wrong."Quit being coy, boy and tell me what they mean! I have court magicians to tell me things in plain language, not in gobbly-gook!" He sits back in the tub, causing water to slosh over the edge of the bath and wash away several of the face-down runes. "Well, sire. Your kingdom, as most are in these trying times, is based on Protection - for your subjects and from your subjects; Water - You control most of the ports on this side of the ocean; and - War - your glorious forays into the lands of the infidels who do not look to your leadership." I mentally cross my fingers and hope he buys it. I glance over - he's grinning at me like a school boy. "I told them I was doing it right - Protect, Ports, Punish!" he tells me. With hand gestures that cover me with water droplets, he motions for me to continue. I turn back to the first three runes. "Linked to your forays, you have a love of journeying that no one knows about and that you don't get to fulfil often, a journeying into the world to face Cruelest Nature and to tame her. But with Dagar, or Daylight, appearing here you wish to bring these desires out into the east, into the surise, moving through your power, your vitality that is Brekana." I gesture to the centre stone again. I wonder if I went too far on that one, but he grins at me again, this time with a conspirator's smile. He doesn't say anything but he does blush a bit. I wisely pretend I don't see his embarrassment. "To the East, your Bright side, you are the Hunter - the provider for everyone in your kingdom. And you are wise, and the people love your wisdom. And -" Here I glance at the king's body wondering if I can get away with what I'm about to say. "You are beautiful sire. You sparkle like ice in winter. You're dangerous, but handsome. To many people, the perfect ruler." I roll my eyes and tell myself to shut up before I get into trouble, but my mouth seems to have a life of its own. "You are firm and cold in your decisions, but not unwilling to melt a little bit if presented with the heat of passion, to be flexible when you wish." By this point the King has sunk down almost completely underwater. So he's easy to flatter, I realize. I'll remember this in the future, when I'm court magician, I think, ambition beginning to rise in me. I make my voice as low as it can go and boom out in a prophet's voice (or at least what I think a prophet's voice would sound like). "And finally, sire, your future, what your power, your reign and even YOUR LIFE depend upon." The King quickly scrambles back out onto the edge of the bath, leaning forward, waiting for my pronouncement. I look at the three remaing runes - Fire, Desperate Need, and the Unseen, reversed! - and realize I'm in deep shit. I pause a moment to study Pethru (the unseen). The rune is beautifully carved out of a stone I do not recognize. Unlike the cheap set I own, it is the work of a master craftsman; I am mesmerized in by its beauty. I begin to speak, but my thoughts are focused on the quality of rune. "Your future begins with..." My voice trails off when the rune is suddenly cloaked in a mist. I rub my eyes and return my gaze to the stone. The mist is gone. In the background Snoddy is inching forward ever so slightly, trying to discern what I might be seeing. Must have been staring a little to hard I think to myself. "My future begins with what?" Now Snoddy doesn't like to be kept waiting. In fact, he hates it. The combination of the hot bath water and his excitement were turning his face a positively bright red. "Sorry" I say, realizing if I don't finish this reading I won't live long enough to be court magician. I turn back to Pethru. The intricacies of the carving fascinate me. My gaze is once again captured by its perfection. "Your future begins with ..." The mist is there again, rolling across the face of the rune. It clings the rune obscuring it. This time I rub my eyes and shake my head. When I look back, the mist is gone. Just some steam from the bath, I think to myself. "MY FUTURE BEGINS WITH WHAT WHAT WHAT?" Snoddy is getting hysterical, so I immediately return to reading the runes. Once again, pethru grabs my gaze; and once again the mist forms around it. "Do you see that?" I ask, continuing to stare at the rune. "Do I see what?" The King is panicking. "The Pethru rune," I say, "Do you see that?" I point to the rune and its mini-cloud. Snoddy leans way forward out of the bath resting his considerable weight on his elbows. "WHAT, WHAT. TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE!" I suddenly realize just how anxious the King is about his future; and my survival skills were kicking in. I begin my analysis again. "Your future begins with..." Suddenly, the mist begins spreading to the neighboring runes. My attention is drawn to Naudir (desperate need). The rune seems to be falling back away from me, leaving a void. I am drawn in the space it has left. I get this strange feeling that Pethru is reaching out, involving the other runes. Somehow, I know Pethru is the key. "Now you listen F'noot and you listen good," Snoddy intones in a low threatening growl. "If you don't tell me what is going on I will slay you myself right here. GUARDS! GUARDS! Fetch me my sword." I pay him no mind. Wafts of mist are being drawn off Pethru in a whirlpool around Naudir. I have never seen anything like this. A pattern is forming; a pattern, or perhaps a window; yes, its like a stained glass window. Suddenly, Pethru and Naudir ignite Kaunna (fire). The rune springs to life in a fiery glow. Isar (ice) is next. It radiates cold blue. As each rune joins, the window becomes more complex, and more transparent. I can see something through the window, but I can't make it out. Ihwar (the hunter) and Raidu (journeying) are the next runes included. Hagla (cruel nature), Mannar (wisdom), Dagar (daylight), Tiwar (war), Lagur (water) and Aigir (protection) all join together to form an intricate pattern around the center and as yet lifeless Berkana (the birch). I realize the runes are a catalyst. In much the same way that a bat wing and two holly berries help the mage unlock the forces of light, the runes are a tool of divination; but what will they show me? The future? The Past? I struggle to see through the window. Berkana is the focus, the lens which will make everything clear. Pethru? Pethru somehow ties this all together. It is the driving force. In the distance I am aware the guard has returned. Naked, Snoddy leaps from his bath, slips on the wet floor and lands next to me with a flabby thud. "BALLS! You'll pay for that F'maggot. Give me my sword now or you'll be next," Snoddy threatens the guard. I extend my finger and it goes through Berkana! Suddenly, the shimmering tapestry of runes engulfs me in a whirlpool of shimmering light! "This is your last chance F'nidiot. You will tell me my future or you will die," is a last thing I hear before I am being drown inside in the splashes of emerald light. I open my eyes (dont remember when I become unconcious) to see that somehow this place is different. It is possibly even different world, and different time. Oh, my, how did I get myself in such mess? Damn, sometimes I wish my sister had slept with some old, stupid blacksmith, and not a brlliant old wizard like Noggin. Thinking of this I realize that only wizardry can bring me back. Yes, I will find the way! There is a village nearby, maybe they will help?
Contact Black Wizard at timdvoskin@infonet.by
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact Darnoth at arichen@autobahn.mb.ca
*grmph* I know this feeling all too well - a new cloning loop has taken effect
once again; wonder what godforsaken outlandish world I have been clonecarnated
to this time... Yes, yes, I know I have only myself to blame - I should never
have fiddled with that 'clone self' spell back on my first homeworld in the
first place... Hmm, to be more exact, that cannot have been really ME, in the
strictly illogical sense of the word - it must have been someone else than THIS
me, though a "me" in any case... Wonder who that original Alodar was, compared
to ME - yes, I know I know more than a couple of his memories as well, which in
all cases is not as well...
OK, enough of reminiscence - I guess I had better check out this world as well,
before running into something not quite as well... Fortunately magic is much
the same all over the worlds, it is only the implementations which vary a
little, so I should be able to catch up on this world's magic quite soon...
Except there is a small catch - I'd better find out what "this" world is this
time... At the very least I hope it does not feature a restaurant at the end of
the universe - I'm much too hungry already to travel that far for each and
every dinner... [Going into deep meditation for 42 hours - well, ahem, usually
meditation doesn't imply snoring, but good old Alodar has picked up quite a
few interesting meditation techniques in his many clonecarnations *cough*]
Well - that was good news and bad news... The good news is that this feels
like another WoW world again, and I sort of like their magic implementations
(especially my own improvements, like "improve chair comfort", "make delicious
food even deliciouser" {YUM!} and... *chuckle*) but *sigh* the bad news seems
to be I sense being amongst a bunch of snotty high elves again, unless I am
psychedelically affected by all these strange mushrooms mushrooming around
here... Mushrooms - hmm, wonder if I have been clonecarnated onto the astral
plane for the first time in my [*my*? Which "me"? Well, never mind...] WoW
history?!
Drat - it was NOT psychedelical! There comes something which is very distinctly
high elfish, both in appearance and in particular in snottylookingness - well,
better get it over with...
-Pardon me, sir, but what is this world and this region called?
-Why, this is Heaven's Pinnacle of the Elven Nation, you ignorant fool!
-Pray tell me, sir, but where is the nearest magick college?
-Not that I understand what a fool like you could possibly understand of
magick, but there is an excellent magick college in Heaven's Pinnacle - walk
that way and turn right at the 1764th mushroom and even a human like you can't
miss it!
-OK, thank you, sir!
Astral it was indeed - now at least my food improvement spells will come in
handily, the only thing abundant up here (except for snotty high elves
*grumble*) is gems and mushrooms and not even my best attempt at food
improvement can make a mushroom even remotely edible - so I'd better practice
the good old 'feed an army on two bread and five fish' spell or we'll starve...
Or was that 'feed an army on five bread and two fish' - I'll make it five each
just to be on the safe side...
[... 1763, 1764, *turn right*, 1, 2, 3, ...]
Well, finally I've reached my destination - now let's see how their high elven
wizard reacts to a mere human apprentice...
-So YOU want to learn something of magick, *HAH!* Let me offer you this
challenge, you stupid human - if you can perform even the simplest cantrip, I
will happily step down as chairwizard of this magic college and surrender that
position to you! But if (since...) you fail, I will transform you into a
delicious dinner and eat you for supper! So back down while you are still
alive...
-OK... *ZAP!* My friend, that was the simple human cantrip "transform snotty
high elven wizard into a mischievous puppy" - now please jump down from that
chair so I can occupy it! If you do it promptly, I might even consider
cantripping you back into a snotty high elf... hmm, back into a somewhat
humbled high elf, think I'll prefer...
-Yap, YAP, **YAP!!**
-Good puppy, now let me make yourself comfortable in this chair first and I'll
turn you back into a high elf - after all, I need someone to fill me in on
the political and otherwise situation of this world... *REZAP!*
-I'll be damn... ahem, elved - a human who can actually perform magic! Well,
one thing can be said of us high elves, we always keep our word, so the chair
is yours, as I (too carelessly, I now freely admit) promised. As for your
requested briefing, listen here...
[42 long hours later]
*Sigh* High elves are not only snotty, always keeping their word, but they are
unfortunately also extremely fond of expressing those words as verbosely as
possible... Not my style at all - I am always very short and concise, even and
especially in my thoughts...
Ahh, here is the library - quite well stocked given the rarity of wood in the
astral planes (unless they have mastered the "make paper out of mushrooms"
spell, of course) I daresay! Now where do I start - well, this title looks
promising:
"A Short Introduction to the Foundations of Elven Nation Magick"
Good! I like them short and snappy - wait, what says the fine print...
"Volume I of XLII"...
*sigh* Now, where did I put my glasses...
Contact Alodar the Apprentice at rwikman@ra.abo.fi
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact Geronimo at bobpbem@yahoo.com
WoW206blurb2 December twentieth, Audience Hall in Mantack Mining Colony
The man steps quietly forward and bows, his hat drawing the gaze of every warrior in the hall. Belying his sober cassock, worthy of the most lowly monk, it forms a blood-red Mohawk over his face. Smiling benignly, quite at ease in this warlike company, he speaks.'High Warlord, I salute you and your people. It has come to my attention that your realm is under threat of the Elves from all sides and that you would appreciate help from any and all capable individuals. I have come to respond to that wish. I am the wizard Takara, of Gangs Yul in the world of Yaddrin, and would assist you in these times of peril.'
One of the warriors jumps up and roars his rage, charging. The stranger hold up his hand and whispers. In midstride, the warrior halts. Muscles bulging, veins standing out on his forehead, he struggles, but is unable to move. The Warlord acknowledges his power with a nod. 'You have heard well, sorceror. This realm will be the location of many battles shortly. However, the Dervishes are warriors without peer and have never yet needed the help of spellslingers and witches to defend themselves and even go out and conquer. Walk through the tunnels and see the might of the fortress being built, even thought it is not even half finished. See the fletchers and armourers toil in their workshops to create the weapons to be used in the upcoming struggle. Consider the warriors you will meet and think deeply on the arrogance you have displayed. The Dervishes do not lower themselves by employing such as you in our armies.'
For the first time looking the Warlord in the eye, the stranger speaks again. 'My Lord, if that is your decision, I will of course abide by it. Your warriors will prevail or not, with only their own strength and will, and so will you.' Once again he mumbles, and his hand moves. 'Could you please have someone show me my quarters?' he asks...
December the twenty-second, Mantack Mining colony, Market Square
... and so be it declared that the Wizard Takara shall speak for us, as he is of one body and mind with us.Signed, Varn an'Tharon, Warlord
With this the town-crier steps down, looks aroud at the astonished faces, and scuttles towards the safety of the tavern.
Contact Takara at vuurdame@xs4all.nl
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact Fizzle at dave.romanzin@entero.com
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact Hazaar at jhenson@calpoly.edu
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