Frantically digging through old announce posts to learn about the assembly piece lists, in my BURNING LUST to obtain the final piece of the Lightningchoker. And then I learn about buying pieces from Christof! Yay! Research finally paid off, guess you were right, High School! -- oh he only sells stones. And then I learn about the re-assemble command! Yay! I can risk my garbage assembly pieces for these! -- oh no jk I can't.
I heart when my need to collect isn't left dismally unsatisfied. I heart when I can sleep at night because I don't have a gnawing in my stomach shaped like an amber pendant. I heart when I'm not punished for not making my character a couple of weeks earlier.
But I really do love Imperian.
You say, "This is much harder than just being a normal person."
[Spoiler] Sagron begins in silky, sibilant tones. "Dear, dear friends," he says, casting his gaze about at the assembled dignitaries. "Long we have waited..."
Sagron wheels on Iniar, his gaze becoming suddenly lucid and bright. "Imperator, who stands around you? What differentiates them from the sand-dwellers and the prancing pomeandered animals of Kinsarmar?"
Iniar strokes his chin thoughtfully, speaking slowly, "Those who would harness power, by any means necessary, for the pursuit of our agendas."
Sagron smiles slowly, nodding in acceptance. "By any means necessary..." he purrs at the assemblage, voice dropping in volume so that you must strain to catch each word as it hisses from between his lips. "An interesting phrase, our Lord Imperator chooses to use..."
Sagron appears to roll the phrase over in his mouth, eyes focused and narrow. "Necessity is learning to fight with ones fists because one lacks a demonic blade..." He shakes his head. "I am afraid our Lord Imperator misspoke slightly," he says with a respectful bow. "What he no doubt meant was, "We harness power, by whatever means we damn well please for the pursuit of whatever we damn well choose!" He roars that last part, voice rising to a deafening volume as he wheels on the assemblage.
Iniar cheers wildly!
Theophilus nods slowly..
Caitryn's eyes sparkle with amusement.
Ellarynth smirks.
Sagron drops his voice in volume once more, his tone falling into the cadence of a warm acquittance around a hearth after one too many wines. "Now take me for example, your humble friend..." he begins, wrapping a gentle arm around Caitryn's shoulders as he does so.
Your eyes sparkle with amusement.
Iniar chuckles long and heartily.
Caitryn smirks.
Sagron looks down, the very picture of humility. "You all know me... you are all, familiar with my vices." He smiles, all self deprecation and apologetic eyes. "I once ruled this city and was accused of many a thing..."
Theophilus tilts his head curiously.
Lady Caitryn Aertsen, Imperial Chancellor says to Sagron, "Only a few."
Sharatar disappears to the east in a puff of smoke, leaving behind a trail of fiery ashes and smouldering embers.
Sagron releases Caitryn's shoulder and walks slowly into the middle of the circle you all form. "Twas said that I took bribes, of flesh and gold both..." he says, eyes emanating mock horror. "It was said that I held onto control of the city to the detriment of all others..." he continues. "Twas said that I ran the city as my own private brothel, my own private army and my own private twisted netherrealm of demonic horror for sick amusement..."
Sagron nods sadly to the assembly, as if bemoaning past indiscretions. "And do you know what I regret? My single, sole regret from that time? The one thing I wish I could redress, were I granted the power to walk the corridors of time and tinker as I would, hither and wither?"
You look about yourself, rubbing your chin thoughtfully.
Iniar tilts his head and listens intently.
Sagron leans closely into Theophilus and whispers into his ear, just loud enough for everyone to pick up, "Why, that none of it was true..."
Caitryn's eyes sparkle with amusement.
Iniar cackles hellishly.
Sagron roars, voice booming, "I had everything in my grasp and I let it slip away because I feared what others would say, what they would whisper, the judgement in their gaze."
Lord Sagron Savet says, "THAT."
Lord Sagron Savet says, "IS."
Lord Sagron Savet says, "NOT."
Lord Sagron Savet says, "WHO."
Lord Sagron Savet says, "WE."
Lord Sagron Savet exclaims, "ARE!"
Lord Sagron Savet says, "From this time and this place let the word ring forth that those who follow me into the Unspeakable do not cower from their desires."
Iniar shivers violently.
Sagron struts before you, warming to the topic. He snaps his fingers and illusory wings flow from his shoulders sweeping through and over you as he turns, gazing upon each of you in turn. "Some have joined me already, all others ready to shake off the judgement of their so called peers are welcome." He stops moving abruptly, freezing, still as a statue.
Sagron narrows his gaze and still without moving hisses out, "those that remain are free to judge us and be found wanting in turn."
You smirk.
Lord Sagron Savet says, "Who will stand with us? Who wishes a place at our side?"
You nod your head.
Theophilus coughs softly.
Iniar nods his head in supplication.
Lady Caitryn Aertsen, Imperial Chancellor says to Sagron, "After that how could they not, Lord?"
Iniar gives Caitryn a slow nod.
Lord Sagron Savet says, "I have but one test for entry, one shibboleth, as it were."
You tilt your head and listen intently.
Lord Sagron Savet says, "State here, before the assembled host, that which you crave?"
You say, "Perfection."
Wraith Theophilus Aevus says, "Power."
Wraith Theophilus Aevus says, "And Glory."
You gag a bit as Iniar's stink wafts over you.
Lord Sagron Savet says, "Brother Cadeyrn seeks perfection. He refuses to be like all others, to settle for the 'quaint flaw, for that which we tell ourselves is endearing in its failure to aspire.""
Iniar smiles sardonically, his eyes closed as he breathes out slowly, a faint metallic taint subverting the air, "Blood. More blood, always blood."
Sagron offers you membership in the Cult of the Unspeakable Shouted. Type AGREE if you wish to join.
Lord Sagron Savet says, "Welcome, Brother Cadeyrn."
You give a mischievous grin.
Iniar grins mischievously at you.
You say, "Thank you."
Lord Sagron Savet says, "Theophilus seeks power and glory. Worthy goals both. What will you balk at in your quest for these things? What will you stoop to? What will you shy away from?"
Wraith Theophilus Aevus says to Sagron, "Nothing."
Wraith Theophilus Aevus says to Sagron, "Absolutely nothing."
Lord Sagron Savet says to Theophilus, "Bold words, let us hope they flow from twisted soul and not twisted tongue."
Sagron smiles wryly, a look of amusement passing over his features.
Iniar cackles hellishly.
Caitryn grins mischievously.
Sagron walks slowly around Iniar, studying him up and down.
Lord Sagron Savet says, "Our lord Imperator craves blood, ever more blood... It is a desire few would dare give voice to in a hidden cellar deep beneath their family home, let alone here, in the village square surrounded by others."
Sagron suddenly reaches out, his hand lightning fast as he seizes Caitryn's neck and pulls her close. "Lady Ephor, you once mocked me with your pleasure as my sword protruded through your gut, do you deny that pain brought you joy? Here, now, before the assemblage?"
Theophilus tilts his head and listens intently to Caitryn.
Caitryn smiles lightly, reaching up to pull Sagron's hand from her neck with a gentle touch. "Of course not, Lord. I rather delighted in that. The reaction was just as much of a point of pleasure as the pain though."
Sagron smiles, withdrawing his hand with a gentle bow and comes up swinging, dirk slicing a gash across Caitryn's forearm and then seizing her wrist and pulling it to Iniar's mouth in a single motion.
Lord Sagron Savet exclaims, "Then your blood is worthy of an Imperator and your bravery and commitment to freedom is worthy of the Unspeakable Shouted!"
Iniar slurps greedily, the sanguine fluid dripping over his eager lips.
Theophilus licks his lips.
Iniar whispers something to Theophilus.
Caitryn smirks at this, pulling her arm away from the Imperator before placing her hand on the cut. She remarks cooly to Theophilus , "Don't get any ideas."
Theophilus gives a pained sigh
Sagron sags somewhat, as if drained of energy and then slowly uncoils, stretching muscles cramped from hypertension.
Iniar leans back, wiping a dribbling of blood from his lips as he freezes in sordid ecstasy. "A delight, such delight," he grins, staring at Caitryn.
Lord Sagron Savet says, "We have begun my friends, we who would shatter the eardrums of an ignorant world with the pure truth of who we are beneath the masks they would graft onto our faces."
Lord Sagron Savet says, "I have much to ponder, if we are to build a roaring fire from this small spark."
Lord Sagron Savet says, "I have no blueprint, no plan. I have only faith in those of you who stand with me and in the power of your true selves unleashed."
Lord Sagron Savet says, "I will welcome all ideas, consider all thoughts."
Iniar Nullheart, Warlock laughingly says, "And then do what you damn well please."
Iniar winks at Sagron.
Wraith Theophilus Aevus says to Sagron, "For now, I am sure we will all work hard to perform the ritual sacrifice and raise our personal faiths and the belief of our cult."
When people don't move one room out from where I am to fly, like their legs are broken and they can't leave my spot or that they're too lazy to move period, and assume I will. Good times, was cracking up entirely.
You tell Xuli, Storm-forged Queen, "A Storm-forged Queen? That's new, at least I've seen. What precisely does a Storm-forged Queen do? It sounds very similar to an Oracle of Conquest."
Punctuated by a distant rumble of thunder, Xuli tells you, "At the moment, she sits and converses with friendly company. And what is it that you do?"
You tell Xuli, Storm-forged Queen, "Stand about idly, attempting to motivate myself to do something. The Realm's not been the same since your kind appeared. It's difficult for a man such as myself to find a cause worth championing. I'll not take up your time, however. Enjoy your conversation, oh Storm-forged Queen."
Punctuated by a distant rumble of thunder, Xuli tells you, "The realm hasn't even been the same since I myself appeared, was it really so static so long a time before that? If you were taking of my time, I would not have responded. We are many faceted and capable of holding more than a single conversation."
You tell Xuli, Storm-forged Queen, "Time was, a man knew what he was fighting for. The Gods were Almighty, and their Divinity was enough to keep the Realm in relative normality. They existed, we served. You lot though, you confound things. Some are servants, tools to be commanded. Others fashion themselves as Kings and Queens. The old beliefs don't hold as they used to. I find myself nostalgic for such simple times, in a world where small orbs transform into strange, impactful Demigods."
Punctuated by a distant rumble of thunder, Xuli tells you, "I don't fashion myself as anything, I simply am. Those that see themselves as servants are fools who have been convinced of their lack of worth and purpose. Those that have not yet will in time fail as the rest. You sound lost, nameless sir, in a forest of your own making. Come and find the Stormtouched when you reach that forests' end, and perhaps there will be a seat at their table waiting for a hero to claim it."
You tell Xuli, Storm-forged Queen, "A worthy invitation, no doubt. The same made by all who pretend at being Kings, Queens, Duke, Imperators, Oracles. What would you do with this world, exactly? Are you content to sit idly and espouse ideals while accomplishing nothing? I strode that path, once. I was the Archon of Conquest, and a hero of the Realm. I stood alone at the Gates of Ithaqua for days holding off demons pouring from the Northern Rift. All of it meant nothing, in the end. All I see at the end of this forest is more trees, stretching endlessly into an oblivion where heroes are sacrificed on the alter of the unworthy, damned to agonize over a promise that will never be fulfilled. Are you any different than your predecessors?"
Xuli rides in on the back of a violent storm carried by strong winds. As she alights upon the ground, the clouds twist around her form and drape like a mantle from her shoulders, lightning wreathing her frame.
You snicker softly to yourself.
Xuli brushes her hair aside.
Xuli, Storm-forged Queen says, "My previous conversation has ended, and your conversation intrigues me. You seem to be confused on something, however."
You ask, "Oh, Storm Queen?"
You raise an eyebrow questioningly.
Xuli tilts her head to the side with a smirk. "The end doesn't matter, knight of the dark woods. Nothing matters in the end. Nothing matters in the past either. What matters is the here and now. What matters is how you are living your life, and its future. You won't exist in the end, so why think so heavily on it?"
You have emoted: Bathan emits a soft, raspy chuckle, unable to mask a bitterness in his voice. "That's the question, aye. It set me back for many years. The people of the Deadwood suffered my great melancholy until they could no longer whilst I pondered that riddle. What does any of this matter?" he asks, the corner of his lip twitching. "It's a matter of legacy, I realized. What do we leave behind, when that dark day comes? The question haunts men such as myself. I've been Knight and Blackguard. I've saved lands and people, and I've slaughtered children. What is my legacy?"
Shrugging, Xuli beckons her mantle of clouds below her, resting leisurely upon the billowing miasma. "What is your legacy? Can you even have a legacy while you still exist?" she asks openly. "Your legacy is the stories and deeds you leave behind when you no longer exist, when you are no longer relevant. If you choose to sit and rot within the woods you've created, will that not be a part of your legacy as well? Perhaps the storms are not part of your legacy, but shouldn't something more dignified than a slow, consuming death of nothing be?"
You have emoted: Bathan sucks on his tongue, eyes widening. "All I see in this land is slow death. There is no cause, nor Master worth the trouble it takes to call forth Bagamnan and ride into battle. I confess, in some desperation I had hoped you might be worthy of my storied blade. You do not seem a Storm Queen to me, however," he returns, his voice dropping an octave. "You seem more like an errant cloud. You will never claim this land and make it what it could be." His fingers flex along the pommel of his blade, instinctively.
Xuli stands with a hearty laugh, beckoning her clouds to her shoulders once more. "As I said, little knight, lost in a forest of your own making. You will not find the edge by desperately running headlong like a stubborn child, but do tell me how that works out for you." Brushing a stray wisp of clouds away from her face, she comments cooly, "I believe our conversation has come to an end. I wish you luck in your tumble through the trees."
You snicker softly to yourself.
You say, "A pleasure, Storm Queen." Xuli, Storm-forged Queen says, "Indeed."
Xuli pulls her mantle of storms around her dark form, lightning dancing within the cyclone. When the clouds disperse upon strong winds, the Storm-forged has vanished.
<a bit later>
Following in the silence of a distant crash of thunder, Xuli intones, "Hear me, oh little lost child in the dark woods. You challenge my worth, my right, and my crown. I say unto you in response only this: Enjoy the rain."
Random QoL changes. Especially the ones that go in CONFIG. Thanks to SHOWXP, here are some numbers. Should be pretty close to accurate unless I'm terrible at math.
Only have the numbers starting from 90.
90->9185 million xp
91->9290 million xp
92->9395 million xp
93->94100 million xp
94->95105 million xp
95->96110 million xp
96->97115 million xp
97->98120 million xp
98->99125 million xp
99->100330 million xp
Will post more numbers as I collect them on various characters. If I'm not mistaken, there is some correlation between overall level(not bashing) and mob level that modifies the xp gained from a kill. Also looks like there might be a change to xp gain after you hit Aspect. Was level 92 killing the same mob as someone that was 107 and I gained something like 50k from the mob compared to the 107 getting something like 7k per kill. I'll know more in a few days.
Comments
Your country is absolutely beautiful and I love it.
And then I learn about buying pieces from Christof! Yay! Research finally paid off, guess you were right, High School! -- oh he only sells stones.
And then I learn about the re-assemble command! Yay! I can risk my garbage assembly pieces for these! -- oh no jk I can't.
I heart when my need to collect isn't left dismally unsatisfied.
I heart when I can sleep at night because I don't have a gnawing in my stomach shaped like an amber pendant.
I heart when I'm not punished for not making my character a couple of weeks earlier.
But I really do love Imperian.
Sometimes being wasteful with time while waiting for meetings turns up glorious surprises.
@Khizan @Ultrix
Sagron begins in silky, sibilant tones. "Dear, dear friends," he says, casting
his gaze about at the assembled dignitaries. "Long we have waited..."
Sagron wheels on Iniar, his gaze becoming suddenly lucid and bright. "Imperator,
who stands around you? What differentiates them from the sand-dwellers and the
prancing pomeandered animals of Kinsarmar?"
Iniar strokes his chin thoughtfully, speaking slowly, "Those who would harness
power, by any means necessary, for the pursuit of our agendas."
Sagron smiles slowly, nodding in acceptance. "By any means necessary..." he
purrs at the assemblage, voice dropping in volume so that you must strain to
catch each word as it hisses from between his lips. "An interesting phrase, our
Lord Imperator chooses to use..."
Sagron appears to roll the phrase over in his mouth, eyes focused and narrow.
"Necessity is learning to fight with ones fists because one lacks a demonic
blade..." He shakes his head. "I am afraid our Lord Imperator misspoke
slightly," he says with a respectful bow. "What he no doubt meant was, "We
harness power, by whatever means we damn well please for the pursuit of whatever
we damn well choose!" He roars that last part, voice rising to a deafening
volume as he wheels on the assemblage.
Iniar cheers wildly!
Theophilus nods slowly..
Caitryn's eyes sparkle with amusement.
Ellarynth smirks.
Sagron drops his voice in volume once more, his tone falling into the cadence of
a warm acquittance around a hearth after one too many wines. "Now take me for
example, your humble friend..." he begins, wrapping a gentle arm around
Caitryn's shoulders as he does so.
Your eyes sparkle with amusement.
Iniar chuckles long and heartily.
Caitryn smirks.
Sagron looks down, the very picture of humility. "You all know me... you are
all, familiar with my vices." He smiles, all self deprecation and apologetic
eyes. "I once ruled this city and was accused of many a thing..."
Theophilus tilts his head curiously.
Lady Caitryn Aertsen, Imperial Chancellor says to Sagron, "Only a few."
Sharatar disappears to the east in a puff of smoke, leaving behind a trail of
fiery ashes and smouldering embers.
Sagron releases Caitryn's shoulder and walks slowly into the middle of the
circle you all form. "Twas said that I took bribes, of flesh and gold both..."
he says, eyes emanating mock horror. "It was said that I held onto control of
the city to the detriment of all others..." he continues. "Twas said that I ran
the city as my own private brothel, my own private army and my own private
twisted netherrealm of demonic horror for sick amusement..."
Sagron nods sadly to the assembly, as if bemoaning past indiscretions. "And do
you know what I regret? My single, sole regret from that time? The one thing I
wish I could redress, were I granted the power to walk the corridors of time and
tinker as I would, hither and wither?"
You look about yourself, rubbing your chin thoughtfully.
Iniar tilts his head and listens intently.
Sagron leans closely into Theophilus and whispers into his ear, just loud enough
for everyone to pick up, "Why, that none of it was true..."
Caitryn's eyes sparkle with amusement.
Iniar cackles hellishly.
Sagron roars, voice booming, "I had everything in my grasp and I let it slip
away because I feared what others would say, what they would whisper, the
judgement in their gaze."
Lord Sagron Savet says, "THAT."
Lord Sagron Savet says, "IS."
Lord Sagron Savet says, "NOT."
Lord Sagron Savet says, "WHO."
Lord Sagron Savet says, "WE."
Lord Sagron Savet exclaims, "ARE!"
Lord Sagron Savet says, "From this time and this place let the word ring forth
that those who follow me into the Unspeakable do not cower from their desires."
Iniar shivers violently.
Sagron struts before you, warming to the topic. He snaps his fingers and
illusory wings flow from his shoulders sweeping through and over you as he
turns, gazing upon each of you in turn. "Some have joined me already, all others
ready to shake off the judgement of their so called peers are welcome." He stops
moving abruptly, freezing, still as a statue.
Sagron narrows his gaze and still without moving hisses out, "those that remain
are free to judge us and be found wanting in turn."
You smirk.
Lord Sagron Savet says, "Who will stand with us? Who wishes a place at our
side?"
You nod your head.
Theophilus coughs softly.
Iniar nods his head in supplication.
Lady Caitryn Aertsen, Imperial Chancellor says to Sagron, "After that how could
they not, Lord?"
Iniar gives Caitryn a slow nod.
Lord Sagron Savet says, "I have but one test for entry, one shibboleth, as it
were."
You tilt your head and listen intently.
Lord Sagron Savet says, "State here, before the assembled host, that which you
crave?"
You say, "Perfection."
Wraith Theophilus Aevus says, "Power."
Wraith Theophilus Aevus says, "And Glory."
You gag a bit as Iniar's stink wafts over you.
Lord Sagron Savet says, "Brother Cadeyrn seeks perfection. He refuses to be like
all others, to settle for the 'quaint flaw, for that which we tell ourselves is
endearing in its failure to aspire.""
Iniar smiles sardonically, his eyes closed as he breathes out slowly, a faint
metallic taint subverting the air, "Blood. More blood, always blood."
Sagron offers you membership in the Cult of the Unspeakable Shouted. Type AGREE
if you wish to join.
Lord Sagron Savet says, "Welcome, Brother Cadeyrn."
You give a mischievous grin.
Iniar grins mischievously at you.
You say, "Thank you."
Lord Sagron Savet says, "Theophilus seeks power and glory. Worthy goals both.
What will you balk at in your quest for these things? What will you stoop to?
What will you shy away from?"
Wraith Theophilus Aevus says to Sagron, "Nothing."
Wraith Theophilus Aevus says to Sagron, "Absolutely nothing."
Lord Sagron Savet says to Theophilus, "Bold words, let us hope they flow from
twisted soul and not twisted tongue."
Sagron smiles wryly, a look of amusement passing over his features.
Iniar cackles hellishly.
Caitryn grins mischievously.
Sagron walks slowly around Iniar, studying him up and down.
Lord Sagron Savet says, "Our lord Imperator craves blood, ever more blood... It
is a desire few would dare give voice to in a hidden cellar deep beneath their
family home, let alone here, in the village square surrounded by others."
Sagron suddenly reaches out, his hand lightning fast as he seizes Caitryn's neck
and pulls her close. "Lady Ephor, you once mocked me with your pleasure as my
sword protruded through your gut, do you deny that pain brought you joy? Here,
now, before the assemblage?"
Theophilus tilts his head and listens intently to Caitryn.
Caitryn smiles lightly, reaching up to pull Sagron's hand from her neck with a
gentle touch. "Of course not, Lord. I rather delighted in that. The reaction was
just as much of a point of pleasure as the pain though."
Sagron smiles, withdrawing his hand with a gentle bow and comes up swinging,
dirk slicing a gash across Caitryn's forearm and then seizing her wrist and
pulling it to Iniar's mouth in a single motion.
Lord Sagron Savet exclaims, "Then your blood is worthy of an Imperator and your
bravery and commitment to freedom is worthy of the Unspeakable Shouted!"
Iniar slurps greedily, the sanguine fluid dripping over his eager lips.
Theophilus licks his lips.
Iniar whispers something to Theophilus.
Caitryn smirks at this, pulling her arm away from the Imperator before placing
her hand on the cut. She remarks cooly to Theophilus , "Don't get any ideas."
Theophilus gives a pained sigh
Sagron sags somewhat, as if drained of energy and then slowly uncoils,
stretching muscles cramped from hypertension.
Iniar leans back, wiping a dribbling of blood from his lips as he freezes in
sordid ecstasy. "A delight, such delight," he grins, staring at Caitryn.
Lord Sagron Savet says, "We have begun my friends, we who would shatter the
eardrums of an ignorant world with the pure truth of who we are beneath the
masks they would graft onto our faces."
Lord Sagron Savet says, "I have much to ponder, if we are to build a roaring
fire from this small spark."
Lord Sagron Savet says, "I have no blueprint, no plan. I have only faith in
those of you who stand with me and in the power of your true selves unleashed."
Lord Sagron Savet says, "I will welcome all ideas, consider all thoughts."
Iniar Nullheart, Warlock laughingly says, "And then do what you damn well
please."
Iniar winks at Sagron.
Wraith Theophilus Aevus says to Sagron, "For now, I am sure we will all work
hard to perform the ritual sacrifice and raise our personal faiths and the
belief of our cult."
Iniar cackles hellishly at Sagron.
Theophilus says, "You've already begun."
Theophilus gives you a shifty little smile.
Iniar cackles hellishly.
[/spoiler]
I heart Unspeakable.
Great start from @Sagron.
Oh ho ho ho, ho ho ho!
Happening faster than it would've taken me to figure out my prompt.
‘Every sword’s a weight to carry. Men don’t see that when they pick ’em up. But they get heavier with time.”
You tell Xuli, Storm-forged Queen, "A Storm-forged Queen? That's new, at least
I've seen. What precisely does a Storm-forged Queen do? It sounds very similar
to an Oracle of Conquest."
Punctuated by a distant rumble of thunder, Xuli tells you, "At the moment, she
sits and converses with friendly company. And what is it that you do?"
You tell Xuli, Storm-forged Queen, "Stand about idly, attempting to motivate
myself to do something. The Realm's not been the same since your kind appeared.
It's difficult for a man such as myself to find a cause worth championing. I'll
not take up your time, however. Enjoy your conversation, oh Storm-forged
Queen."
Punctuated by a distant rumble of thunder, Xuli tells you, "The realm hasn't
even been the same since I myself appeared, was it really so static so long a
time before that? If you were taking of my time, I would not have responded. We
are many faceted and capable of holding more than a single conversation."
You tell Xuli, Storm-forged Queen, "Time was, a man knew what he was fighting
for. The Gods were Almighty, and their Divinity was enough to keep the Realm in
relative normality. They existed, we served. You lot though, you confound
things. Some are servants, tools to be commanded. Others fashion themselves as
Kings and Queens. The old beliefs don't hold as they used to. I find myself
nostalgic for such simple times, in a world where small orbs transform into
strange, impactful Demigods."
Punctuated by a distant rumble of thunder, Xuli tells you, "I don't fashion
myself as anything, I simply am. Those that see themselves as servants are
fools who have been convinced of their lack of worth and purpose. Those that
have not yet will in time fail as the rest. You sound lost, nameless sir, in a
forest of your own making. Come and find the Stormtouched when you reach that
forests' end, and perhaps there will be a seat at their table waiting for a
hero to claim it."
You tell Xuli, Storm-forged Queen, "A worthy invitation, no doubt. The same
made by all who pretend at being Kings, Queens, Duke, Imperators, Oracles. What
would you do with this world, exactly? Are you content to sit idly and espouse
ideals while accomplishing nothing? I strode that path, once. I was the Archon
of Conquest, and a hero of the Realm. I stood alone at the Gates of Ithaqua for
days holding off demons pouring from the Northern Rift. All of it meant
nothing, in the end. All I see at the end of this forest is more trees,
stretching endlessly into an oblivion where heroes are sacrificed on the alter
of the unworthy, damned to agonize over a promise that will never be fulfilled.
Are you any different than your predecessors?"
Xuli rides in on the back of a violent storm carried by strong winds. As she
alights upon the ground, the clouds twist around her form and drape like a
mantle from her shoulders, lightning wreathing her frame.
You snicker softly to yourself.
Xuli brushes her hair aside.
Xuli, Storm-forged Queen says, "My previous conversation has ended, and your
conversation intrigues me. You seem to be confused on something, however."
You ask, "Oh, Storm Queen?"
You raise an eyebrow questioningly.
Xuli tilts her head to the side with a smirk. "The end doesn't matter, knight
of the dark woods. Nothing matters in the end. Nothing matters in the past
either. What matters is the here and now. What matters is how you are living
your life, and its future. You won't exist in the end, so why think so heavily
on it?"
You have emoted: Bathan emits a soft, raspy chuckle, unable to mask a
bitterness in his voice. "That's the question, aye. It set me back for many
years. The people of the Deadwood suffered my great melancholy until they could
no longer whilst I pondered that riddle. What does any of this matter?" he
asks, the corner of his lip twitching. "It's a matter of legacy, I realized.
What do we leave behind, when that dark day comes? The question haunts men such
as myself. I've been Knight and Blackguard. I've saved lands and people, and
I've slaughtered children. What is my legacy?"
Shrugging, Xuli beckons her mantle of clouds below her, resting leisurely upon
the billowing miasma. "What is your legacy? Can you even have a legacy while
you still exist?" she asks openly. "Your legacy is the stories and deeds you
leave behind when you no longer exist, when you are no longer relevant. If you
choose to sit and rot within the woods you've created, will that not be a part
of your legacy as well? Perhaps the storms are not part of your legacy, but
shouldn't something more dignified than a slow, consuming death of nothing be?"
You have emoted: Bathan sucks on his tongue, eyes widening. "All I see in this
land is slow death. There is no cause, nor Master worth the trouble it takes to
call forth Bagamnan and ride into battle. I confess, in some desperation I had
hoped you might be worthy of my storied blade. You do not seem a Storm Queen to
me, however," he returns, his voice dropping an octave. "You seem more like an
errant cloud. You will never claim this land and make it what it could be." His
fingers flex along the pommel of his blade, instinctively.
Xuli stands with a hearty laugh, beckoning her clouds to her shoulders once
more. "As I said, little knight, lost in a forest of your own making. You will
not find the edge by desperately running headlong like a stubborn child, but do
tell me how that works out for you." Brushing a stray wisp of clouds away from
her face, she comments cooly, "I believe our conversation has come to an end. I
wish you luck in your tumble through the trees."
You snicker softly to yourself.
You say, "A pleasure, Storm Queen."
Xuli, Storm-forged Queen says, "Indeed."
Xuli pulls her mantle of storms around her dark form, lightning dancing within
the cyclone. When the clouds disperse upon strong winds, the Storm-forged has
vanished.
<a bit later>
Following in the silence of a distant crash of thunder, Xuli intones, "Hear me,
oh little lost child in the dark woods. You challenge my worth, my right, and
my crown. I say unto you in response only this: Enjoy the rain."
And then I got zapped to death.
‘Every sword’s a weight to carry. Men don’t see that when they pick ’em up. But they get heavier with time.”
Only have the numbers starting from 90.
*does it actually change past 100?
Not like that.
[But also totally like that.]