Newsletters

January 28, 2001

In this week's issue:

THE DARKSTONE NEWSLETTER
Volume 4. Issue No. 2 - January 28th, 2001


This Week's Issue

Congratulations
Gypsy Class
Ramblings From Seluctruh's Lair
The Darkstone Grimoire
Cywry's Commentary

Congratulations

We congratulate Rezyn Omen who is the leader of the Fighter's Guild! Best of Luck Rezyn.

And special congratulations to Zaradali, who is to soon become the first Hero in the new world!.. This is a much deserved honour! Cheers!!!

The Gypsy

The much maligned Gypsy is a direct descendant of those who guarded the fabled Darkstone in ancient times. Gypsies are now cursed to spend their lives roaming the world. Since they were closest to the Darkstone when it broke, the gypsies have a special magical ability which sets them apart from other classes. Known as Object Magic, this ability permits the Gypsy to cast spells which rely on certain objects to be effective. The gypsies have formed their own mystic spells due to their connection with the Nether Plane. One such spell is 'locate object.' Many of their spells, such as 'curse', may be nothing more than the reaction of a person believing that they are actually cursed, but then again, perhaps they are. Many believe that the gypsy is nothing more than a mage/thief who has perfected the art of sleight of hand and uses small spells to mystify and astound people. Others swear to have seen firsthand the powers for which gypsies have gained the! ! ir reputation for magic. In addition to magical ability and their thieving skills, the Gypsy also has limited fighting skills. They can gain up to three attacks per round. They are very skilled at the art of throwing daggers, and have the ability to backstab at high levels. Sometimes Gypsies appear to manipulate weather to add atmosphere to their spells. Gypsies have the additional abilities of haggle, farsight, and locate object (One of only 2 classes to receive locate before level 49), They can throw a poison weapon to poison a mob from another room, an ability with much potential. Gypsies also have true sight, natures armour, demonskin, and natures power.

Ramblings From Seluctruh's Lair

Greetings!


This week, the Gypsy Class is receiving some attention in the newsletter, and so I thought I would take this opportunity to comment on a class which does not get much play within the realm.

The Gypsy class has a rich history in the realm from an RP perspective. They are rumored to be able to know the future and to be able to locate objects in the realm. They have mastered the art of using certain stones throughout the realm and of harnessing their energies to increase power.

The Gypsy class obviously is not for everyone. You can choose to be a mage or a thief and do very well for yourself. Many have mentioned in the past they would like to see backstab given to more classes. This won't happen of course, since it is meant for the thief class. Within the gypsy class lies the opportunity to use a combination of two very powerful classes. The downside is that the Gypsy class is a diluted version of both classes. This is the trade-off. Remember to rely on the strengths of each class and enjoy what the classes offer. If you focus on what a class does not have, you will only end up feeling powerless and frustrated.

Now on to other Darkstone business. I have been asked daily when the Avatar Challenge will be brought back to the realm. There has been much discussion in the past regarding the Hero levels by the immortals. Many past Heroes were role-models in the game and truly deserved their title. However, some Heroes slipped in, and once they obtained the honored position, did not live up the rank. Thus, I will be looking very hard at the merits of each person in the realm. Many factors will be examined before one is chosen to take the Hero journey. The final determination will rest on the belief that a person can advance the game by being granted Hero status. The trade-off will be that you will no longer be a regular player in the realm. That is a tough decision for anybody to make. But, the Hero will be one who runs quests and does other tasks related to helping out both the immortals and the players. A Hero will be a liaison between the Immortals and the Players. They will have many tasks. They will be expected to be on the game on a daily basis and put many hours in doing their various responsibilities. Many of the older players in the game have asked me about taking on a position where they did not have to build areas but could run quests and do other things to help out. If this is something you would find suits your personality then feel free to approach me about it in the game. If you still want to be a player and enjoy the fun that goes along with the care-free atmosphere of a player then this position is, frankly, not for you. Much pre-planning and testing will go on to see how quickly you can accomplish certain tasks. This takes up valuable time that I could be doing other mud related work. Please do not waste my time if you are not 100% sure you can leave the 'player' part of your personality behind. Lastly, take a serious look at your life and what you may be doing several months down the road. If you are not in it for the long-haul, I suggest you continue enjoying the game as a player. We all have a role to play in the game and the 'Player' is one of the most important.

The Dark Lord

The Darkstone Grimoire

Graisyndel, oft-times minstrel to monarchs but just as often fugitive from their justice ducked back through the simple hide curtain at the rear of the makeshift stage. As the crude drape fell back into the place the uproarious applause of the crowd without was abruptly hushed.

"Well, well, my old friend, that is quite a crowd tonight. I never knew that you Wandering Folk liked to gather in such numbers. " The person to whom the bard addressed himself inclined his head graciously and said: "It does them good to be distracted. Once more I offer you my thanks."

Graisyndel, stopped at the tone in his interlocutor's voice and looked closely at him. "Corin, is there something wrong?" By way of reply the Gypsy smiled wanly and looked out at the crowd through a tear in the hide curtain.

"Besides their numbers did you notice nothing unusual about them, Graisyndel?"

Casting his mind back to his performance, to the moments where his stories demanded that he interact with his audience and where he had the time to appraise the crowd, he was forced to admit that he had. Normally, when the Travelling Folk chose to congregate, they would park their gaily painted wagons in wild disarray, with no regard for order; no two wagons parallel or facing each other and always with plenty of space separating them and their attendant campfires. This time, however, they had been parked in a broad D-shape, laager-fashion on the highest rise of the Seven Oak Meadow where one side suddenly fell abruptly away to a scree covered slope so perilous that mothers forbade their children to play near it. Scenic though it was, it was unnecessarily distant from the clear waters of Babble's Brook at the meadow's southern extremity. What's more he had noticed that many of the wagons were charred or damaged in some way and that much of the repair work was makeshift or hurried. Then there had been the uncommon number of wounded gypsies; the bruised, the bandaged and even the maimed...

"There was a time, not too long ago when, provided it kept to the byways, even a solitary gypsy caravan could traverse Bar-Gith without fear. We could camp where we would and send our children into the forest to play or to gather berries. No longer..."

Graisyndel sighed and placed a hand on the Gypsy's shoulder, "These are dark times, indeed, my friend, though I fear that there is little that either you or I can do about it."

A strange light came into Corin's eyes and he turned to face the bard squarely, "Are you so sure? There is much that we could do." He said.

"You do much, already friend, by uniting and protecting your people but if you, or I were to allow ourselves to be dragged further into the greater battles that rage about, there is no knowing where we might find ourselves.

For myself, I choose to avoid changing sides. Light, Dark? Whatever they profess the results are still the same, more death, more suffering. No, I shall stick to entertaining, I shall..."

Corin interrupted him, "Am I to understand that you would not help those in need?"

Graisyndel's brow furrowed and his eye's narrowed at the implied sleight, "Not at all. Why..."

"Good, " Said the Gypsy, interrupting once more. "Then follow me for there are some here who have urgent need of your song."

The two ran tirelessly and without complaint for all that their pursuit had lasted a day and the best part of the night. In the half-light that precedes the dawn they ran on, the forms of gnarled and twisted trees looming all around them like the bewitched soldiers of some silent army, the swells and rise of the land the parapets from which they spied on runners. Occasionally, one of them would throw a look back over his shoulder, more by instinct than in a hope of seeing anything in the early gloom. And though they could not see their pursuers, every now and again a distant cry or the sudden blare of a horn would remind them that they had failed to shake their trackers.

They ran in tandem, turning and altering course without the need for verbal communication. Yet for all their obvious familiarity they were as unalike as the opinions of two Phatepian philosophers. The one ran with many short strides and propelled his lithe, muscular body over even the driest of autumn leaves in confounding silence. Beneath a dark cloak and light mail his body was covered in soft, tawny fur. This and the black-banded tail that swished constantly behind him proclaimed him as a katrin and, notwithstanding the peril of the situation, an indefatigable grin creased his feline features as if all this were the most amusing of pastimes, the most diverting of leisures.

The other stood more than half as tall again as his companion. The great muscles of his thighs pumped like pistons and where his companion's feet spurned the leaves and where he ducked and dodged through the foliage that sought to hamper their progress, the other ran through them. Occasionally he would tear at them with broad sweeps of his enormous, corded limbs but just as often he would simply power through them, heedless of their attempts to scratch at his face and neck. He wore heavy scalemail armour that glinted a dull black to match his pitchy skin and his face appeared carved from obsidian but by some tortured or lunatic sculptor who had chosen to insert burning coals for eyes and topped it with a loose flowing scalp-lock. Where his companion's face seemed ever on the verge of laughter, his appeared brimming with rage, clouded by an instinctive hate for one and all. When he spoke his voice was like the grinding of icebergs in the Bight of Kor.

"Friend Gambit, methinks that the race nears the end and if we are to avoid defeat then drastic measures are called for." The laughter that seemed ready to burst forth from the diminutive katrin thief at any moment was present in his voice when he asked: “I fear you are out of shape, Darkenvai. Are you ready to give up so soon? Legends are spoken of your stamina in the taverns of Eria but it seems the ladies exaggerate!"

A rare smile cracked the other's lips revealing vicious fangs and betraying his vampire nature.

"I believe you would joke even if Seluctruh were to dangle you before one of his ravens as a tidbit but I am serious. If we continue like this the White Knights will surely catch us both and the scroll will necessarily fall into their hands. "

"Ahh, yes," said the katrin thief. "The scroll. You have been tight-lipped about it thus far. Am I too learn of its contents only now that the end is nigh? Am I to take its secret to the grave with me?"

"Yes and no. Yes, you shall learn of the scroll's contents, though Judicus has bid me keep it a secret from all. And no, you shall not die, not this day at least, I think." Gambit turned his face to regard his companion, intrigued. "Have you not wondered how it is that the White Knights have managed to keep to our trail so doggedly, despite your best efforts to throw them off?"

Gambit had, indeed wondered. The White Knights were fearsome opponents on a battlefield, best dispatched from behind, but they had no renown as trackers.

"I assumed that they had some help from outside, Zendel has been known to help them often enough..."

"Nay, it is not that. You remember the silver ring that binds this scroll? I fear that it is this ring that they track by some magical means."

"Then let us be rid of the ring," said Gambit aghast. "Don't tell me you have had me run half the breadth of Kuln and into this accursed wood just for the sake of that bauble!"

Darkenvai scowled at his friend but explained patiently, "The ring and the scroll are bound. Without the ring the scroll would take many moons to decipher, if its meaning might ever be discovered. With the ring even a simpleton could use the scroll and the knowledge and power contained within would be magnified many times. Judicus bid me bring both and that I have sworn to do so. However, it appears now that he must have one but not the other. This then is what we shall do."

At that they heard the harsh snarl of a horn of the White Knights, closer then before. With renewed urgency Darkenvai outlined his plan: "We shall separate. I shall take the ring and you shall take the scroll..."

"But that will mean that the White Knights will find only you, "Interjected Gambit, concern and amusement vying for supremacy in his voice.

"That it will. It will afford you time to get clear and you can double back around the White Knights and return to the Clanhall.

I shall lead the White Knights as far from you as possible. The land hereabouts turns to hills soon and somewhere there shall I make a stand. Seluctruh willing I shall prevail. "

"Ever the hero, eh?" Said Gambit with a grin. "You'll get yourself killed like that one of these days! Never mind, give me the scroll. I shall read it on the way back, it will give me something to do."

Darkenvai stopped abruptly, forcing his companion to do likewise. Gambit was about to ask why when Darkenvai hushed him.

"Swear to me that you will take this scroll to Judicus and Judicus alone. It cannot be allowed to fall into the hands of another."

Gambit, undeterred by the sudden seriousness of his comrade replied: “What, have you no trust in me?"

"I would trust you with my life, friend Gambit as often I have had cause to do in the past. Nevertheless, I know well your mercenary soul. This scroll has great value as will become obvious when you read it. I must have your word that you will take it to Judicus."

Gambit made a little moue of annoyance. Often his friend's loyalty to the Clan had come between them and fabulous riches. Unswerving loyalty of this kind was beyond the little katrin, seeming a handicap that no self-respecting thief should burden himself with. Nevertheless...

"Very well, I swear to you that I will deliver the scroll into Judicus' own hands though I know full well that the reward from that tightwad will be not one-hundredth the value of the scroll."

"By what do you swear?"

Gambit thought for a moment. "I swear by your shade. There how is that?" Darkenvai grinned ruefully, a terrible sight to behold, thought Gambit, and pulled the scroll out from inside his scalemail hauberk.

"Make sure you are free of the White Knights of cordon before you decide to read its contents, " he said as he removed the ring that bound the scroll and slipped it onto one of his prodigious fingers.

Gambit grinned broadly as he took possession of the scroll, "Little enough cause for worry. Even if they were not tracking that ring of yours, what with all your crashing and blundering the white bounces would be sure to follow you and not I through the woods. Take care then, friend and may Seluctruh guide your blade."

Darkenvai made to return the farewell but Gambit had already faded into the woods and disappeared. "Remember your promise, little thief." He shouted at the surrounding forest, " For if you do not my shade shall surely haunt you!"

Graisyndel followed the Gypsy, Corin Talor out of the back of the great wagon that served as a stage and into the early night air. Already there was a winter chill and he pulled his cloak tighter about him. They walked along the precipitous rim of the scree cloak stopping only to exchange greetings with a heavily armed picket. As Corin shared a hip flask and bantered with the guards, Graisyndel looked out over the vast expanse of Bar-Gith that lay before him. It seemed so peaceful now, so still in the twilight. Hard to imagine some of the horrors that lay within it. Presently they moved on and at the outer perimeter of the camp the bard spied three cloaked figures that he guessed to be those that the gypsy leader wished him to meet.

As they approached the figures stopped their colloquy and turned to face them, removing their hoods as they did so. Corin was about to introduce them but Graisyndel raised his hand. "No need, Corin, I am already well-acquainted with one of their number. Cogline Boh, it has been quite a while."

The tall druid inclined his head slightly, "It has at that. Would that we could meet under better circumstances. You have helped me before and I have come to beg your aid once more." Graisyndel smiled, "Yes, indeed, but hadn't you better introduce your friends first?"

Cogline Boh frowned; "I assure you that my need is of the most dire urgency, we..." The druid followed the bard's line of sight and saw that his eyes had come to rest on Cywry. He gave a sigh but before he could introduce his companions, Graisyndel had taken the initiative.

"Sweet lady, your beauty is such that songs should be written of it. What a waste to keep it hidden from the world in this miserable forest. I am known as Graisyndel, I am a minstrel and your humble servant. I have performed before the Erian senate and even the King of Aina speaks highly of me, I..."

"He is also wanted by both for various crimes, " supplied Cogline Boh with an air of resignation. "Graisyndel, this is Cywry and Jornel. They are bound by the Holy Vine and have taken vows before the Ladybirch. I believe that you know the significance of such an arrangement?"

Graisyndel, gave a short sigh but added; "It is a pleasure to meet you...both. A friend of Cogline Boh's is no doubt a friend in need! How might I be of assistance?"

Cywry looked at Cogline but answered herself, "We know that you can sing the charms that open the portals. We need you to open a portal to the Ladybirch for us. It is of the utmost importance."

Graisyndel, looked at Corin who returned the gaze steadily with the old light of amusement back in his eye for the first time. "I do believe," said the Gypsy. "That you said that you would not turn your back on those in need. And then, becoming serious once more, I appreciate the dangers and the cost to you but I believe that their problem and that of my people are one and the same. I would ask this of you as a personal favour..."

Graisyndel nodded. "Very well," he said. "You, Cogline Boh are aware of the dangers not merely to he who opens a portal but to those who travel it. Have you warned your companions of such?" The druid nodded gravely and both Cywry and Jornel added their own confirmation. "In that case, let us prepare. It would be well that we distance ourselves from the camp. Follow me."

The Gambit Report

Gambit is still quite occupied.. his cheery words of wisdom will be with us again soon!

Cywry's Commentary

The "Weekly" newsletter got caught in a time warp of sorts and has therefore extended to a Bi-Weekly. Hopefully our glitches will be fixed soon.

The focus of this week's character descriptions lay with the gypsy. There is no interview because I was unable to find any gypsies within the realm. Therefore any of you who are out there, using true sight, casting curses upon the unwary, or whatever else you would be doing, please let us know who you are (and please don't throw any poison knives my way :P)

Now that the first clans have developed within the realm, I would like to invite the clan leaders to forward regular submissions to the newsletter to keep all Darkstoners informed as to clan activities and clan news which may be of interest to those who play within the realm.

The City of Shadows has mysteriously vanished. Travellers who have sought adventure within that dark and fearful place have reported that they were unable to find even so much as the entranceway. Does this signal the formation of a dark and secret conclave that will eventually emerge more powerful and darker than ever. Only Seluctruh knows the truth behind this mystery.

Fellow Druids will be happy to know that mistletoe may be found in Erin Minor. It is good to once again have access to the healing herbs we need with which to cast our spells. Now if only the elderberry tree would gain in health and strength so that it could produce a more luxurious crop of elderberries.

Until next week.. Fare thee well to all players, and may you walk in sunshine or in moonbeams and be at peace within and without the realm of Darkstone!

~~~~~~~~~

 

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