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The realms are much changed from a generation ago. For better or worse, it is a new world. What follows is recent, as you can see from the date, and truly a sign that for some... there have been better times.
[quote]
Local time : Sat Jan 30 14:03:04 2016
Start time : Thu Jan 28 15:55:42 2016
Up time : 1 day 22 hours 7 minutes 22 seconds
Regular reboot: between 9 days 18 hours and 10 days to go.
Memory usage : 32%
You stand in a large dirt courtyard to the west of the city of Kalaman. Before you is a large
wooden structure, used by merchant wagons as a watering station for their horses and a cheap
resting point for their guards. A wooden palisade surrounds the structure, offering it a little
protection. At present the yard is largely empty, probably due to the dangers merchants face from
Lord Soth's undead minion when coming to Kalaman. Above, the stars shine coldly down from the
black, night sky. The two moons Lunitari and Solinari offer some light as you make your way through
the darkness.
There are two obvious exits: in and northeast.
> in
You stand within a large wooden structure that has been set up outside the walls of Kalaman as a
tavern of sorts for merchants and their guards. While not the cosiest of places you have been in,
you are sure this is far more comfortable than what is offered on the open road. A large open
fireplace fills the room with a comfortable glow. On the wall above it hangs the skull of what can
only be a giant of some sorts. To the back of the room is a long bar, with a sign sitting at one
end.
There is one obvious exit: out.
[two narrow-headed arrows], three narrow-headed arrows, a pair of chainmail leggings, an eagle-
winged helmet, a pair of steel gauntlets and a set of ornately-crafted magenta robes.
A majestic dark-brown warhorse with a massive square-jawed male human riding on him, a shifty grim
male half-elf and an attractive barmaid.
The massive square-jawed male human and the shifty grim male half-elf are fighting each other.
>
The shifty grim male half-elf says: Defend yourself!
exa half-elf
This tall and surprisingly muscular half-elf looks upon you from the shadows with an appraising
glance, quickly measuring how much of a potential threat you are to him. By the way he amusedly
returns to his drink it obviously wasn't a flattering appraisal, however considering how
comfortably he rests a hand upon his bow and how well worn his armour is, his confidence may be
warranted.
He looks handsome to mortals.
He is fighting the massive square-jawed male human.
He seems to be sore.
He is wearing a pair of high boots, a green elven cloak, an elven chain mail, a pair of banded
leather sleeves and a hard leather helm.
He is wielding an ashwood longbow in both hands.
He is neutral before the Eye.
He is mortal and aging before your sight.
>
The massive square-jawed male human grazes the shifty grim male half-elf's head with his
corrupted mithril sword.
The shifty grim male half-elf shoots an arrow at the massive square-jawed male human. The arrow
merely glances off of the massive square-jawed male human's body.
exa human
He is a massive square-jawed male human.
He has scars on his left leg, right leg, nose, left arm, left hand, right hand, forehead, left
cheek and right cheek.
He is sweating profusely.
He is tall and skinny for a human.
He looks hideous to mortals.
He is fighting the shifty grim male half-elf.
He seems to be feeling well.
He is wearing his insignia of the crimson kestrel, the mark of a Swordsmaster of the Realms.
His tunic is decorated with the symbol of a Black Rose.
He is wearing a dragon turtle shell, a pair of sturdy black bracers, an exotic red splint mail, a
black leather backpack (open), a flowing ermine-lined robe, a pair of sturdy black greaves, a
pair of steel boots, a small gold chain, a bone flute, a silver mermaid ring and an unusual
double steel mail helmet.
He is wielding a corrupted mithril sword in his right hand.
He is riding a majestic dark-brown warhorse.
A small gold chain of ten links is suspended from the left side of his collar, down to the throat.
He has sharp steel grey eyes.
He is a Grandmaster Gardener of Gont.
He is unsympathetic before the Eye.
He is mortal and aging before your sight.
>
You hear someone curse from the kitchen: No more than two rats in the pot! No more than two![/quote]
For those who don't recognize him, the human is Ulric, current leader of the Solamnic Knights. Veterans will note what's interesting about his appearance. After putting down the tavern-goer, conversation begins...
[quote]
The massive square-jawed male human yells to you: are you enjoying the show?
You hiss to the massive square-jawed male human: Greetingss, grandmaster. Indeed, this tavern is as
lawless I see as the besieged city of Kalaman whose Captain stands even now disarmed and helpless
amidst the piles of gore and mail that were his compatriots.
The massive square-jawed male human yells to you: yeah? Ria wanted it. good for him and better
than seeing it go to the blue bastards
You gesture inconsequentially with a wave from your old, mottled-grey hand.
You hiss to the massive square-jawed male human: This tunic of yours, grandmaster...
You look grimly at the massive square-jawed male human.
You hiss: It is one I haven't seen in some years.
The massive square-jawed male human shrugs helplessly.
The massive square-jawed male human yells to you: What of it? And who are you to say anything
about me in your black robes and been dead for who knows how long but don't have the good sense
to stay in the grave.
The massive square-jawed male human grins evilly.
You nod your head briefly beneath the hood of your old, tattered robe.
You hiss to the massive square-jawed male human: Your path is your own to stray from, though...
You leer uneasily with the unholy light of corruption in your eyes.
You hiss: Were I to stray from mine, I have no doubts on the fate of my robes. Your tunic, I
recall, is not one worn for long, so I wonder...
The massive square-jawed male human yells: Grand Masters make the rules, mage or werewolf or
whatever you call yourself now, and we know how to bend them.
The massive square-jawed male human gets a golden sceptre from his black leather backpack (open).
The massive square-jawed male human yells: So sorry, it looks like I beat you to it
The massive square-jawed male human winks suggestively at you with his sharp steel grey eyes.
You smile impressively, secure in the knowledge that the power of the Dark Lord protects you.
The massive square-jawed male human yells: But I know your friends have the biggest desire for it
so, let's say I sell it to you for 100 plats?
You scratch your chin contemplatively with your long curved shadowy talons.
The massive square-jawed male human yells to you: I don't have all day, got a date with some
goblins in terel.
You hiss: No, no friend, do not let me keep you. The demands of a grandmaster are many and
varied. However...
You gesture in an open and friendly manner with your heavy pale-yellow messaline gloves.
You hiss to the massive square-jawed male human: Should you need funds, there are opportunities
for further discussion in Minas Morgul. I see you are capable of entering freely on your own.
The massive square-jawed male human yells to you: Whatever, and yes whenever I want.
The massive square-jawed male human waves stoically.
[/quote]
Enjoyable, discussing guild matters, but I ponder the fate of Vingaard. Once, there was a time when Shield Knights of the Crown defended the Keep's honour. Where are they now? The keep has crumbled and been rebuilt for heroes anew. Where are they? Where have they gone? Is there not a squire among this band with the honour to stand forth and account?
Better times, friends. Better times...