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December twentieth, Main Cavern in the Boarlands
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 Minotours 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 though 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, Boarlands
... and so be it declared that the Wizard Takara shall speak for us, as he is of one body and mind with us.Signed, Mghrash, king of the Minotaurs
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
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 ye llin' 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. ... Hmm, thinking of which I do realize that only wizardry can bring me back from this misfortune. I must find the way, yes, I will find the way!
Contact Black Wizard at timdvoskin@infonet.by
Welcome all yee who seek knowledge... It has been a long time that our people's have travelled from the eastern lands of "It was the age of darkness, when the sun never broke through the dark and stormy clouds, with the weather's harsh icy wind alone being a deadly force to be dealt with from day to day. The creator's glorious work was now the tales of legends. It seemed to have been totally undone in a short period, with the forces of evil and destruction ruling all of the lands that our elders knew. All laws of nature seemed to have been broken and the seasons were gone. The powers of magic were also somehow diminished, if not totally negated, by forces unknown. Many a long known magical art were lost in practical terms and script, leaving only a few of the ancient crafts remembered by a few devote practitioners, albeit their inability to practice them. During these times dark and mystic shadows moved throughout the skies, never materialising but forever being the forwarning of the approaching armies of the Dark Ones minions. It was believed that these were manifestations from the bodies of the evil dark leaders, yet they were remained unknown in body or name to those who inhabited the lands. Many peoples were lost in those days, with total races being lost to the marauding forces of evil and becoming known only in folklore, such as the orces, centaurs and manticores. Even our close breatheren, the naiads, were lost to us forever, together with vaste archives of their unique mechanistic knowledge. Many of our forefathers were lost in those days too, slain with their whole kinfolk in merciless battles, which were inevitably finished only with no life remaining, even their animals and pets. It seemed that the total destruction of all life was the goal of these shadowy beings. Our people survived solely by using our unique knowledge, creating small communities with complex defenses and traps to keep our enemy at bay, although eventually most of these villages were lost over the years. It was only by keeping mobile were we able to endure these years. It seem that all effort was spent on survival by all races, despite our best efforts to raise the perennial struggle through co-operation, including some minor victories too. But after four generations and 140 years it seemed that our final fate was drawing ever nearer. It was in these darkest years that our creator seemed to answer our persistent pleas for divine intervention. For amongst all the surviving races it came to pass that in a short period one was born bearing unusual features to their brothers and yet still taken within their clan. It was only after each reached their "age of earning" did they finally come to understand their strange longings and visions. For it is told each left their village, some more easily than others, only to find each drawn to the same location, on a long forgotten barren and devastated island to the north. As they came together, strong natural phenomena began to occur, the long dead gems and crystals again began to glow with an inner power (although none left alive knew how to use the crystals anymore), the skies began to disperse in small isolated areas and the winds even decreased or warmed for short periods. Several years of these strange events were to pass before they returned back to their home villages, to the surprise of most who had presumed each lost to the forces of evil. Our Naagathuti who left as a wide eyed youth was now sullen and quiet but with an aura of strength and power. Soon he had the elders as believers of his divine right to leadership of our people, as it was clear he held the power we all were awaiting. And so began the Second Age of the Wizards. In time, as knowledge was shared, apprentices become skilled, and vital magical gem sources were collected, our people soon gain the power to hold the forces of evil at bay. Then in time, as all races made equal gains in power, evil was pushed back further and the world returned to normal. Many famous tales of heroic and brave deeds were told of these glory years. But it was feared that the eventual normalcy was just a respite. And so the wizards all came together and entered into the realm of where they expected this evil to dwell, in the upper regions of the astral zone. Lore speaks of mighty events occurring in the skies that time but the real events are locked in the silence of the oath of wizards. All that they told their people was that evil had been defeated and banished from their worlds. As time revolved, the races prospered and in due course Naagathuti passed to the world beyond and Hiroshi assumed the reins of power. Peace continued for three more generations, and again our leader passed away. It was in the third triach of the rein of the next leader Mitsushi that the first and only occurrence of the shadowy beings was reported. A council of the wizards was hastily called in seclusion. Again little was told of the discussions, but our leader proclaimed that he (together with all other races) was to send forth four of their strongest apprentices, which included two of his own sons, the first and third born. They were to be raised to full wizard level and joined by a chosen few citizens to seek out the new homes of the shadowy beings, which were deemed to exist both beyond the edge of the world and into alternative realms. We knew that this was not to be a solo effort, with numerous races sending their strong out on parallel paths, seeking out these evil beings. And so began the quest of our leader Mitsushi the Third. Being sent out by sea, Mitsuishi's fleet soon reached the edge of the world. Yet here, where many had feared to go near, he boldly led his small fleet into the darkness of he void. Days went by sailing in the darkness, and yet there was no sound of waves or other liquid to sustain the ships nor any wind to propel it. Time seemed to be endless and brief at the same time. Hunger did not occur but hair grew as if months had passed. It was indeed a time of madness and despair, as many could not contain their minds and plunged overboard into the void. And still our leader held his heading firm. After what seemed like an eternity, light returned out of nowhere and soon they were sailing in water with wind. But the sky was strange and unknown. The depleted fleet was also in a poor state and all flyers were desperately sent out seeking land. It was several days before the one and only returned, barely reaching sight of our ships before he plunged into the seas. After he was recovered, he was able to guide the way to the grasslands he had seen in the distance to the west. The remaining ships set course for these lands but was engulfed by raging storms as it neared its goal, but progress was still made despite this hardship. And yet this progress was to prove disastrous as our ships hit hidden reefs offshore, crushing the weakened hulls easily. Fate allowed our leader reached the shore, but after all others were found he had only a few hundred of the 5000 followers that started the journey. And so they were led inland to start anew and build towards reaching their original goal, DEFEAT THE EVIL. Dear Seeker of Knowledge... we honor our leader Mitsushi, but his task is perhaps beyond to take upon himself totally at this time, having lost so many trusted advisors. And so we have established several bodies or "pillars" to aid in his duties. These are the "Red Pillars of War, Temple of Gold Pillars and Green Pillars of Growth." And herewith follow of basics of these Pillars. |
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# END __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Send your FREE holiday greetings online! http://greetings.yahoo.com
Contact Mitsushi at wowgreg@yahoo.com
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact Alodar the Apprentice at rwikman@ra.abo.fi
In the days after the great war, we searched for our bretheren, lost in an unknown land. We stumbled around until we found some nice pastures to call home. It is here we began to build ourselves a small town to live peacefully, eating what we can find, and taking the earth's precious stone, iron and mithril that we could find. And so for many years our people lived a quite and peaceful life.
But now we hear rumours of great alliances being formed and armies being mobilised to bring more wars back to our lands. And this is not only in the lands around us but in the underworld and skies above. We wish to remain at peace but what are our small people to do as we are probably too near our warring neighbours. There are envoys, appearing out of nowhere, to our little town, with requests for peace, alliances or trade from both familiar beings and from creatures previously unknown to us. Can we trust an alliance from someone declaring themselves to be chaotic? Or can we risk that these people will target us after we rebuke their offer.
As the leader of our people, the wise and noble Geronimo of the Castor Fields, we shall stand true to the allies we chose, and hope that we can bring peace to the world forever. It may be that we fail in our peaceful ways, but we shall not be drawn into the bloody battles to come willingly. And at the same time we shall prepare for war, expanding our towns into the empty lands around us and stockpiling our resources for future needs.
If there are people in this world who wish to make peace with our people we shall recieve all messengers, but do not expect positive responses from those with evil intent (or even for your messenger to be allowed to leave). As a peaceful race we have no hesitation to turn to war if the need be there. Our war mongers are eagerly seeking an excuse to transform all our resources into weapons of war.
And as even now we hear the echoes of distant sounds of war we prepare for the worst.
Geronimo (the elder)
Second Form
Contact Geronimo at bobpbem@yahoo.com
My tower dominates the small settlement, which in turn is perched on the highest hill on Lachlan Spur. Looking out of the window I can see the residents below, small insignificant beings, but destined for greatness. They call themselves 'highlanders', a rough uncivilised folk with a hearty appetite for life. Until I arrived they had no thoughts of war or conquest, being perfectly content to live in their hilly domain and survive. They seem to need little excuse to call for celebration, generally involving a lot of alcohol and not a little singing. As I look down on the first of many planned projects I can only wonder if ordering the construction of a Tavern might be a little unwise. The sounds of singing reach up to me in my lofty abode and a group of warriors stumble out of the communal hall. There was a wedding last night and only now are the celebrations beginning to get into full gear. Watching the warriors stagger through the streets I frown, the fools had better not interrupt the building workers. As the revellers get closer to the building site I decide to intervene, and with a gesture call down lightning from the cloudy skies. The sudden clap of noise and the sight of lightning weaving intricately around the top of my tower halts all of the folk below. Everyone looks up, and then hurriedly return to their tasks, the warriors shocked into a semblance of sobriety cease their revels and head back to the hall. Only the occasional glance up reveals their frustration at having their fun interrupted. Glances full of admiration, fear and anger, all in equal proportion. I make a mental note to send those warriors out in the next wave of invasion, let them spend their energies in more fruitful pursuits. Let them fear me, let them hate me even, all that I truly need is for them to obey me for I am determined to survive on this world and am aware of nine rivals. Rivals that must either be brought to the table in cooperative alliance, or crushed underfoot. There can be no middle way. My name is Yarl, I am here, and I shall say.
Contact Yarl at 113673.3221@compuserve.com
In the deep jungle of
Carossa the amazons have made their home. Or so the story
tells us. No one really knows what this mighty city looks like. Few has tried to find a way through this vast place and none has returned. Rumour has it that the Amazons are tall, strong and proud. They stick to their word and they cant stand cowards. The army is built up with both men and women. Word has it that only women command the troops and they make out the special Elite troops of the Amazons. 6 tall and built to hold their ground against anyone
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There was a brave or foolish if you wish adventurer who travelled for 2 hours into the jungle not long ago. He made it back but only because they let him. This was his own words. He didnt see anyone and all of a sudden arrows with poison where at flight at him. He turned around to save his life but he could feel the poison taking effect to his whole body. On his way back he often fell and struggled to get away and all he could hear was the laughter from women. When all this was over he realised that they had only been playing with him and the poison wasnt meant to kill him. His guess was that he had almost met the Amazon Elites and lived to tell the story. He is now believed to be one of the special agents for the Amazons.
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Dont let this scare you. Amazons like peace and are prepared to negotiate with almost anyone.
In the deep jungle of Carossa the amazons have made their home. Or so the story tells us. No-one really knows what this mighty city looks like. Few has tried to find a way through this vast place and none has returned. Rumour has it that the Amazons are tall, strong and proud. They stick to their word and they cant stand cowards. The army is built up with both men and women. Word has it that only women command the troops and they make out the special Elite troops of the Amazons. 6 tall and built to hold their ground against anyone. It is said that these warriors are the finest you will ever find with no weakness and fearsome.
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There has been an official statement going out to the leaders of the different races saying that the Amazons have a new leader. The first male to rule these Amazons ever. He is said to be ruthless at times but always fair. His name is Alamopud. Considered a god by his people but only sees himself as a semi-god. He will listen to what is said and the make a fast and final conclusion. He will then act on it and bring justice where it is needed. He has no personal interest in ruling the world alone just to be left with what he sees as his land. Dont see this as a sign of weakness but as a warning that the wrath of this ruler will be immense if he is crossed in any way.
The land around this jungle is harsh to say the least. High mountains and deep swamps. Anyone how tries to travel here, friend or foe, will have a long and hard journey ahead. It will make it easier if the mighty Amazons let you pass by in peace but it will take some time. If you come in peace the trip itself will be worth your while. There is no such place in this world. The scenery is amazing and the wildlife is like something out of a story. When sat on one of the high mountains looking out over the landscape you will see hills and forests and swamps and lakes and much more. These warriors use a lot of the animals in there normal life and in there army as well.
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Contact Alamopud at alamopud@hotmail.com
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact Oronic at LESCHLOG@AOL.COM
blurb207 Gabton [g a: b t @ n]
Village on the western continental shores. Administrative center of the Gabton plains. By the census of the deceased Than Kak’alak, it had 700 inhabitants by the end of year 722. The new ruler, Arch High Than, Master of the Universe, God of the World, Ruler of all planes (etc) Kak’alak’aran, his son, introduced a new calendar that started with year 0 in the beginning of the salvation of the Plainsmen (by himself). He introduced a strict autocratic regime where all plainsmen were forced to wear skirts and short trousers, thereby stating their belief in the new God Kak’alak’aran, whose name in all official writings appeared only in red (which happened to be Kak’alak’arans (sorry: Kak’alak’arans) preferred color). He set the tax rate to one hundred and ten percent of the actual income, effectively destroying the economy of Gabton within only three months, for which he received a scientific award by the University of Dwarves in the Silver Mines for ’Proving the devastating effect of high taxation on economies’. That award was the only one ever to be collected by Kak’alak’aran, however, since the other measures he took during his reign were not even of academic interest. They involved the banning of washing the face (February year 0), the order to use only donkeys for riding (followed by the sale of all ’superfluous’ horses to the neighbouring tribes), the ’gold harms your health’ decree, after which all gold was collected from the peasantry and exchanged against truely valuable iron bars that the God himself had touched with his eternal hands, and the ’one day a week, seek the path of light and serve your God’ campaign, which was primarily aimed at young females that were asked to visit the Temple of God (also known as the palace bedrooms) weekly.After only one year, the plainsmen decided to convert to another god. The old god was asked to leave the city by the council of Elders. After a short arguing - the population of Gabton fell to 300 during this - Kak’alak’aran was given opportunity to show his divinity by talking to the scorpions inside the Scorpion Pit that he had himself introduced into the catalog of penalties. Somehow the scorpions failed to acknowledge Kak’alak’arans godly status and the city was in need of a new king.
Elected was Tikati Le’Shu, a woman in her thirties, a former merchant who had led the attack of the wolves against the palace that finally led to the overthrow of Kak’alak’aran. She first withdrew all rules set up by the former ruler. Her stated political intention is to
She is described as open-minded, liberal, and tolerant. It is also said that she is interested in alliances with other regional rulers, and invites those rulers to send their messengers to Gabton.
- rule the plainsmen and all their neighbours
- to ensure peace and freedom for all
- maintain peaceful relationship to all other regional rulers
- not to engage in any early wars
Figure 1 - Gabton plains and a plainsmen donkey cart.
Contact Lecostarius at tkemp@t-online.de
No Blurb Submitted As Yet.
Contact Princess at wow_princess@hotmail.com
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