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  • saadow
    saadow  1 day ago

    Hey friends! Nature night is starting in about an hour and ten minutes!

  • Jandari
    Jandari  2 days ago

    MSM, i get the same complaints. At 60 WPM... it's a difficult task, though.

  • GearsOfMadness
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    Need some dat Roman engineering.

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    Maybe I could play if I had an ultra silent keyboard that didnt wake the whole family up when typing

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    Dropped in to check out the new design yesterday. Really good stuff.

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  • Yasmyn
    Yasmyn  2 weeks ago

    The Yasmyn here dodge gah So nuch fun on a questy with the Raven dude this eve. All the fun was had and it was awesome. heart

  • DavidtheGreat
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    Actually Scratch has the right of it. You start dropping gold at 5, exp penalties at 10.

  • Glognar
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    Up to lvl 10 I have had no penalty on death. No gold loss and no death clock.

  • scratch_flannigan
    scratch_flannigan  2 weeks ago

    I think the gold loss starts at level 5, and the xp penalty starts at level 10 .. but I an not sure.

The Island of Thain :: Forums :: In Character Discussion
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Agglomeration of Blight

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LAN_402 LAN_403
Cleric of Mystra
4:29:01 pm GMT 01/19/09
Cleric of Mystra Registered Member #1083 Joined: 7:29:11 pm GMT 06/25/07
Posts: 1519
The Chaos Curse, pt. 2 ((Bloody violence ahead. Bit of it)) Ashan leaned forward on the counter: "A Deneiran library up north, you say?". The bartender replied while holding a couple of coins in his sweaty, left hand "Aye, aye, that's what I heard. I don't know much". ********* Two men sat on chairs inside a dark, dank and small room in the middle of a forest. Time had not been kind with the chairs or the rest of the building, but Ashan did not care about the furniture at the moment. He tightened the straps holding the other man to his chair, securing there was no way to escape. Sweat ran down the other man's -a more than overweight priest of Deneir- face as he stared at the dirty floor in despair. "Alright, let's make this simple, for the sake of us both...", Ashan calmly started, "... tell me about Tuanta Quiro Miancay. You need not deny anything as I already know your brothers had problems with it up in the Snowflakes. So, go ahead". "I will say nothing", the Deneiran boldly retorted, directly clashing with the fear one could find on his expressions, "You will learn nothing from me". Ashan stood up from his chair and it creaked. He walked the feet separating him from the priest and landed a punch on his face, and another, and another, blood trickling down the cleric's nose and into his mouth. The red substance tasted horribly and he would have wiped it away, were it not for the strong leathers holding him still. He talked again, this time rising his voice: "One more time, before my patience runs out". In pain, the priest replied "What is it you want to know?". "Everything" He grumbled. "Hmph. Well, I know what the texts say. There was a wizard and his imp, I don't know their names. They were the ones who created it and unleashed it on us", the Deneiran explained. "What about the reagents needed for it? Do you know anything?", Ashan pressed on. The priest stayed in silence for a couple of seconds considering what such information meant, but he cared more about his life than anything else, so he continued: "I know of few. Tentacles of a displacer beast, eye of an umber hulk, blood of a druid. Is that good enough? Can I go, please?". Ashan nodded. It was clear the man knew nothing else and he had everything he could get from him; he pulled out a dagger from his boot in order to cut loose the straps. Maybe it was the pressure or the sight of his captor, but at that moment, the Deneiran felt braver than ever. "Bloody Talontar", he said and hatefully spitted on Ashan's face, before going silent again. Ashan wiped his own face with a piece of cloth and calmly approached the other man. He made a long, yet not deep cut on the priest's bare arm and then walked past him. As he was making his way out, he kicked the chair to the cold floor and flicked his hand. In but a few seconds, insects of all kinds came out of their hiding places. A swarm ran hastily towards the fallen Deneiran as Ashan closed the door behind him and walked into the woods. Desperate screaming began and continued for minutes, until it died in the cold night. [ Edited 10:23:29 PM 01/19/09 ]
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Cleric of Mystra
7:55:04 am GMT 01/23/09
Cleric of Mystra Registered Member #1083 Joined: 7:29:11 pm GMT 06/25/07
Posts: 1519
The Chaos Curse, pt. 3, act I A few more enquiries led Ashan to the north, to the Great Glacier. His first ingredient was to be gathered there, but the region was too dangerous and inhospitable for him to go alone. While he was used to extreme temperatures, the cold of the north was unbearable to most creatures, and those that did survive it were incredibly durable. On his way there, he hired a band of mercenaries. The cost was high and they were far from professionals, but he had no other choice; he needed them. Wind howled as they walked in the icy valley. The biting cold slowed their progress, but they were not stopping until they found the dark mushrooms or the night arrived. Grumbling and complaining could be heard from the mercenaries, yet Ashan was too engrossed in his task to pay attention. Dusk was already on them when one of the eastern men saw a black patch of vegetation, a few meters above them, amongst the relentless ice. With less caution than required, Ashan walked towards the mushrooms and opened a leather bag. Warcries. First, almost a whisper brought by the bitter wind, then clear and menacing, closer. No time to hide. No time for anything. A few spear heads could be seen reaching the crest of the rising. No time. "Gather your men," Ashan said to the mercenary leader, "this won't be simple". [ Edited 04:31:20 PM 01/23/09 ]
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Cleric of Mystra
5:32:27 pm GMT 01/23/09
Cleric of Mystra Registered Member #1083 Joined: 7:29:11 pm GMT 06/25/07
Posts: 1519
The Chaos Curse, pt. 3, act II

While the mercenaries were tightening straps and unsheathing curved blades, Ashan finished picking up the mushrooms and securely stowed the leather bag away. Calmly, he readied himself, strapping a shield to his left arm and taking his venomous morningstar from a belt hook. For what seemed several minutes, he gazed at the symbol on the shield, the amber teardrops on the purple triangle, and let out a sigh. He traced his index finger along the carvings, remembering whose blood he had used to outline the symbol. It mattered not who it came from. Only the purpose it served was important.

The mercenary leader watched Ashan impatiently. The battle cries could be heard only a couple of hundred feet away; this was no time to get lost in the grandeur of a shield’s carving.

“Well, sir? Are you ready?, he whispered to Ashan. The Talontar simply nodded and motioned for the leader to join his men. “Very well, we’ll take position.”

Despite their apparent lack of knowledge, the mercenaries formed in rigid lines. The few archers available went to the back while the heavy warriors assembled on the front, with lean and dexterous light fighters taking up the flanks. Eleven men.

“Fall back to flat land. We are not fighting them on the rise, they’ve got the advantage”, Ashan ordered. Although surprised, the mercenaries obeyed and took several steps back. “We’ll wait for them here”, he added.

And so they did. At the sight of the first line of enemies running towards them, the mercenary leader ordered a barrage of arrows on them. The four archers, used to shooting on horseback, had a good aim, but not perfect. One particularly vicious arrow pierced a throat, stopping the creature dead on its tracks.

Another line. Sweat ran down the front liners’ faces and into their makeshift armour, making Ashan ponder if they had ever seen any combat. “Of course they have, how could they not? Right?”, he muttered. A shout pierced the air, bringing him into attention. The mercenaries blew a mighty horn that echoed in the Great Glacier, and for the slightest of seconds, the creatures slowed down like something had just told them there was no way they could survive that night.

Less than a hundred feet separated both. Their enemies continued the crazed run with renewed spirits.

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Cleric of Mystra
10:06:03 pm GMT 01/23/09
Cleric of Mystra Registered Member #1083 Joined: 7:29:11 pm GMT 06/25/07
Posts: 1519
The Chaos Curse, pt. 3, act III

Steel clashed, swords and shields crashing with incredible force, spear shafts shattering in a thousand tiny pieces, blood spraying all. There was strength in numbers, but Ashan and the mercenaries were more skilled than their opponents, even so that the three to one advantage did not seem that noticeable.

He swung the morningstar over his head defiantly and charged in once again. The rusted chain slashed and tore flesh brutally, leaving deadly toxins in its place, and while Ashan looked satisfied, the battle had long met a stalemate. But the adversaries were more, much more, and would surely endure longer.

From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a group of stalactites. The fighting was moving close to the entrance of an ice cave, and for the moment, his mercenaries were pushing forward. He took a few steps back, fell behind the last of the eastern men and reached for a belt pouch.

“Retreat, retreat!”, Ashan shouted as he tossed the bag of fire powder over the battling forces and towards the stalactites, just above their enemies. He was not the best of throwers, but it hit the ice near enough to bring a large number of the sharp points down on the enemy. Most fell, mortally wounded by the ice or even crushed under it. Even one of the Rashemi got caught.

“Is that one of us? Isn’t that h-”, said the mercenary leader, but was stopped short by Ashan: “He is dead. Let’s return before more come”
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Cleric of Mystra
3:16:49 am GMT 02/11/09
Cleric of Mystra Registered Member #1083 Joined: 7:29:11 pm GMT 06/25/07
Posts: 1519

"Teach me"


"I want to know"


"Good question", he thought. "I want to be better"

"I see"

The gypsy caravan had been slowly making its way towards the coast for a week now. For the right price, they had allowed Ashan to travel with them, provided he helped keeping them from danger.

"Very well,", the old gypsy said as she picked up a quill, "pay attention"

Ashan nodded. The candles lit the room dimly, yet enough to see what the woman was writing. He recognized and understood the words, albeit with some difficulty.

She went on to explain each of the letters in the alphabet and he listened carefully, trying to remember all of them. In his mind, he tried to weave words that contained the letters she explained, each and every word more complicated than the last one.

She handed Ashan the quill: "You". Hesitantly, he took it and looked at her for long moments, until she looked at the parchment as if directing him to carry on. All he had ever written was his name. All he was taught to write. And now, the parchment stared at him with an unforgiving gaze. It pierced into him. He could not do it, he wouldn't even try.

Ashan dropped the quill, rage filling him. His shaky hand hastily grabbed the nearest thing it found and smashed it against the floor; shattered and broken, the gypsy's holy symbol was nothing but dirt now. Finally, his eyes set on the wooden planks, his breathing slowed down until it was barely audible.

"It's so sad... you fear. You fear failure.", the woman said as she blew the candles out.
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Cleric of Mystra
11:20:01 pm GMT 02/12/09
Cleric of Mystra Registered Member #1083 Joined: 7:29:11 pm GMT 06/25/07
Posts: 1519
The Chaos Curse, pt. 4

(Back on Thain after an uneventful trip back)

He asked politely, as the gentleman he is: "Alas, I need a bit of druid's blood, and you seem to be the right one. Is that too much to ask?"

He could not be more surprised. Pylia did not deny his request, but chose to ask why he wanted that kind of ingredient and if he was planning to make use of it against nature or its' agents. Ashan didn't really have an answer, but he could assure he was creating the Curse for what it represented, not to use it against anything.

She wanted a clear answer. Well, damn that, she was not getting it.

Razon had come along with Ashan, though hidden from sight. Ashan was supposed to make a gesture, should Pylia refuse, and he would knock her unconscious so Ashan could carry on. However, as he raised his hand to give the order, an elf appeared from the shadows. Bloody meddling elves. He shot at Razon and cowardly disappeared.

Pylia took the chance: "You will leave now"

"I will do as I see fit, elf. As I said, difficult way or easy way. Your decision"

"I can nay give it to you!"

"Now, enough!", Ashan cried as he leaped forward, his venomous morningstar cutting open Pylia's arm. She could not shield the blow, but managed to get him with her elven longsword and he was knocked down while the other elf, Pilinige, stepped out of the shadows once more.

Kneeled on the ground, Ashan produced an empty vial, which he quickly filled with the druid's blood. The determination of the insane filled his eyes as he took yet another step towards the completetion of the Chaos Curse. It mattered not that Pylia and Pilinige were standing next to him, weapons drawn: he was getting what he wanted, in the name of what he believed in. Could there be more perfect a moment?

He could not die, though. Not until it was finally completed. He quickly downed a potion of invisibility and ran south, with Pilinige close behind him. Ashan changed forms and stopped the elf on his tracks, making use of a well placed stunning bolt. His desperate run south continued.

Where was Razon, though?
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10:52:16 pm GMT 02/13/09
Lefse Kamel
Registered Member #460 Joined: 8:56:43 pm GMT 03/06/05
Posts: 2312
The Chaos Curse, pt. 4, continues.

Razon rushed towards Pilinige. It only took a second and the elf was gone. He turned to check on Ashan, everything seemed to go as planed and he continued to follow Pilinige. No elf in sight, he continued to run. Blast! There was that half gold dragon, Hayleigh. Razon felt he had done a wise choice to take the shape of an elf for this event. He ran over to Hayleigh maybe she had seen him? He quickly asked her a few questions, she could not say she had seen anyone that looked like Razon described. She then asked for a name, Razon hesitated, he could not come up with anything better than Amel. She didn’t seem to like the idea that he was looking for Amel, but then she had to run over to a guard. Razon took a chance and ran for it; he ran past a stone and threw his magical cloak over himself. It worked, Hayleigh soon came after him but she could not see him. She headed back towards Hamley. Razon heard battle behind him and headed north to check it out.

He found Ashan running from Pilinige, he hurried ahead and gave Pilinige a little knock with his sword. And he made it, he hit where he intended and Pilinige was paralyzed for a little while. Ashan was gone though and before he knew it, Pylia, Hayleigh and a human stood infront of him. He quickly moved over to Pilinige. He said clearly that if they didn’t step back, the Pilinige would die. They didn’t seem to listen. He stretched out Pilinige’s left arm and held his blade over it; they still showed no sign of calming down. Where was Ashan? He could really need some help now, this was after all Ashan’s idea in the first place. He began to cut, one wound, two wounds, the blood flowed. Then before he could start on the third wound Hayleigh rushed him. Razon was knocked back and had no chance of parrying, it all happened so quickly. Before he knew it he was on his knees, and poof, he was standing in a stone. The druid Pylia had begun her attacks. He knew this spell, it would not last forever. And when it let him go, he had only once choice. He began to mutter, trying to counter the spell, but it was way out of his powers. After a few moments the spell let go, he ran for it, arms hanging, badly wounded. He looked back, the dragon was after him. He came to the Watch and he stopped to catch his breath. He looked behind him, and smiles as there were no golden half dragon in sight.
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Cleric of Mystra
8:22:32 pm GMT 04/20/09
Cleric of Mystra Registered Member #1083 Joined: 7:29:11 pm GMT 06/25/07
Posts: 1519
The Chaos Curse, pt. 5

After learning that Razon was at least alive, there was nothing else to do but to continue with the gathering of reagents. Ashan had two so far, two more he could acquire and those he had not learned about, which could range from one to dozens. However, Ashan was not about to stop, and thought it was best to finish what he could while he sought more information on the powerful toxin.

[ image disabled ]

The fights were swift and bloody, unlike the removal of the necessary body parts which was made easier by the acidic nature of his dagger. Now, two more ingredients were added to the leather case which held the first two, allowing Ashan some peace of mind that he was doing things right.

For now.
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Cleric of Mystra
2:20:37 am GMT 09/14/09
Cleric of Mystra Registered Member #1083 Joined: 7:29:11 pm GMT 06/25/07
Posts: 1519

I remember how the alien, yet familiar, substance made its way down my throat. The moment it came into contact with my lips, I began doubting if I had simply lost my mind; if my sense of judgement, of which I have been always proud, had failed me in that decisive second. I shut down those thoughts, knowing there was no turning back at that point. It is not the first time I have done that.

The scorching chill of the dense liquid burned my throat more and more as fractions of time passed. I could feel it consuming me from inside, like a parasite, feeding off my life force. My hand grasped the old wooden table while my legs made an effort to keep me standing. Right now, I am unsure if I was the one in control of my body or if I was the puppet of an ambiguously benevolent master.

I can swear the dark room spun around me with frightening speed. The wood began to melt between my fingers and I fell to my knees as I suddenly saw a girl's face etched in the walls; it was vague at first, though it became clearer within mere seconds. She stared at me wherever I looked. When I closed my eyes, I could see her still.
I can see her still.

As the pain grew inside me, I started to worry less and less about my well being. I feel ashamed to even think of it now, but I had just given up and handed my life to the powers of fate, in which I have no faith. Yet, the circumstances twisted me. I was a broken man, a worthless creature giving up and accepting its course instead of fighting. The more I speak of it, the more pathetic I feel.

She giggled, knowing how I was not willing to carry on. The sound of her innocent yet fiendish laughing became unbearable with each and every second, to the point I forgot about my physical pain for the slightest of moments. If she purposely obfuscated it, I will never know. A part of my thinks she did, while another is sure she was simply making me feel like the insect I was.

The pain intensified. I felt as if a ravaging creature was trying to claw its way out of my body. My face met the cold floor, though it seemed as if I had just been pushed into a botomless pit. I wonder, in such a situation, what would happen to man who knew it was, indeed, botomless? Would he simply shrug and die of old age while in constant descent? The concept is terrifying. But I digress.

I remember wishing my mind would just shut down so I could die in peace and without pain, yet it would not; the puppet master wanted me to experience my mistake, to experience the result of my actions. Had I been able to speak, I would have begged for mercy, something I have yet to do in my entire life.

I could see the remains of the room turning into shades of crimson. The last thing I saw. The last thing I remember.

When I woke up, I asked myself if I was alive or if my error had finally ended my existance. I was not even sure if I had simply dreamed it all.

"You are alive", she said.

I can see her still.
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