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1
Character Submissions / New Character Submission - Brimnak
« on: July 04, 2019, 11:27:39 pm »
Name:  Brimnak
Age:  12
Class(es):  Rogue/Wizard (not sure of level-split ratio - want to see where RP takes him, but likely to be heavier on the Wizard side will take at least 5 levels of Rogue before level 20)
Race:  Halfling
Subrace (if applicable):  Goblin
Gender:  Male
Alignment:  Neutral Evil
Deity (if devoted):  Not yet devoted - will see where RP takes him
Domains (if cleric):  N/A
Biography and Description:
Brimnak begins as a particularly shrewd Goblin, stealthy and able to decipher the meaning of many arcane symbols and scripts.  While he cannot yet cast even a simple cantrip, his mind has a knack for memorizing the details of the verbal and somantic components.  He has seen enough shamans work their peculiar magics to realize that some of what they do is truly arcane and some mixed with magic of nature or of deiffic origin, and some of it is just pure showmanship and trickery.  He has left his tribe to wander the world, in search of riches and to unlock his potential for true arcane magic.  He thinks one day he may return to his tribe to claim the tribal totem and become the Gu, the tribal leader.

Brimnaks tribal home is in the Brech Mountains and their closest enemies are of course the Ulgrid Dwarves, so he has learned to speak and read their language, though he himself does not particularly have a deep seated hatred for Dwarves.  In fact, Brimnak despises his own race above any other, seeing how Goblins in the world have squandered their potential to become a master-race.  He dreams of a time of change of Goblin temperament, with Goblins using their natural cunning to become the most advanced in technology, thaumaturgy, and culture, if only they could get past their chaotic tendency of infighting and backstabbing and actually organize.  For now, he'll settle for unlocking unnatural longevity for himself if that might be achieved through magic without too high a price to his own being.

With a desire for personal longevity in mind, Brimnak is envious of Elves and their methusalan life-cycle.  He is eager to study them to see if there is insight to be found to aid his own quest for longevity.  He wonders what factors most into their long lives, be it diet, lifestyle, or their closeness with the Al'Noth.

Similarly, Brimnak is interested in Gnomes, or more accurately their technology and invention.  He intends to make a study of them as well to see if there are applications of their sciences that could benefit himself.

He admires Humans for their ability to put their short lifespans to such good use, showing that they can learn quickly and adapt, as well as organize to build larger communities and even nations.

He is not as impressed with Halflings as he is with the other races.  He views them as being lazy and too carefree, never accomplishing anything of great merrit aside from being good farmers and family oriented.  He does occasionally wonder if Goblin society might benefit from being more family oriented to a degree though, so he does not discount Halflings entirely.  Perhaps a closer study of their family and social dynamics will be beneficial, or at least interesting to pursue at some point, but it is not a priority of his at this time.

2
Development Journals and Discussion / Sapeli Tuuli (Saber Wind)
« on: June 16, 2019, 10:36:50 am »
Date:  Augra 23, 1471
The town of Center seemed fairly quiet when I first arrived there after leaving Leringard as instructed by the note with the Raven marking.  I spent my first few days, maybe even weeks, being paranoid about who I could trust in this new place.  I met an Elf named Melaa who seemed innocent enough, and even though we are only occasional traveling companions, I think we have become friends of a sort.  Together we have traveled various places and faced dangers and perils I would not have believed myself capable of back in my past life, before Kivi's death.  We have helped people by facing dangers they themselves could not, and it feels good to do so.
Each day, with or without Melaa by my side, I train with my sabers.  I don't think Kivi would approve of my desire to avenge him, but it is something that drives me, and beyond that I find a sort of peace in the dance and flow of my blades as I wield them.  I have named my newest set, a pair made of iron and enchanted with the magic of fire and lightning.  One is Summer Gale, a blazing hot blade that roars like a hungry lion as she sweeps through air and foes alike.  The other is Biting Zephyr, who crackles with the power of storms, her lightnings stretching out to bite foes even before the edge of her blade touches.  Together we are one and three.
Traffic in Center has begun to pick-up as of late.  Perhaps it was simply a quiet time of year when I first arrived, or perhaps it is just coincidence.  Now, however, I often see others passing into and out of the town regularly, and the ox-pens are seeing more use as well.  Often there are folks gathering and meeting at the campfire outside the Bull's Eye Tavern before heading out together or alone to have further adventures.  And they are adventurers, most of these recent arrivals.  Still, of those whom I've asked, no one recognizes the emblem of my mysterious benefactor, the Raven.  Even here in Center, the Raven leaves Trues for me to find, but no one ever sees them.  They leave no trace, no clues to follow.  I still wonder if they are friend, or foe, and what motivations they might have for leaving me these bundles of True and directing me to Center in the first place.  Is the Raven one person, or many?  Will they ever reveal themselves further to me?  Am I just a pawn in some larger plot of theirs?
With the upswing of adventurers in Center, and the Raven's hand in directing me here, I feel as though something momentous and possibly dire is coming, and I must continue training myself and my blades to be ready for when it does.  So that is what I do.  That, and brew good strong drinks.  People seem to enjoy my drinks.  Especially the Dwarves.

3
General Discussion / For a friend...
« on: November 20, 2012, 06:25:12 am »
[SIZE=48]Happy Birthday Hellblazer!!![/SIZE][/B]

4
General Discussion / Another annual marker to note
« on: July 08, 2012, 07:34:53 am »
A happy birthday to ya lonnarin!  [SIZE=10](this messge has been approved by the self-confidence otter)[/SIZE]

5
Just for Fun / Behold the Awesome Glory of the Common Loon!
« on: April 06, 2012, 02:38:02 pm »
Common Loon II (by FMRachel, 6 April 2012)

6
NWN Ideas, Suggestions, Requests / Town Criers & World Leaders Idea
« on: March 23, 2012, 11:44:40 am »
After reading a recent thread that was attempting to incite WL's to more activity in the world, I had an idea.  Yes, dangerous, I know!  But here it is...
 
Since we already know that LORE can display the the location a PC was most recently active in, why not add a function to Town Criers that automaticly spits out a string of text something like,
 
"The world-renowned -insert WL character name here- was last seen in the area of -insert area name here-.  -Insert short update of current political situations in the afore-named area here (which could be kept in a seperate DM alterable database perhaps)-.  What -insert WL character name here- was doing there remains a topic of dispute and mystery."
 
Obviously the magenta colored bit might be too much to add and upkeep, but it would add some flavour and help keep other PC's informed of political developments that they reasonably should be aware of and give them ideas of what they might be able to get involved with themselves, through quests or PMing DM's, or WL's, etc.
 
If such a function were added to Town Criers, there might also be a function added to the WL tools/widgets that allows them to set how detailed the reporting of their position would be, such as setting it to report everywhere they go, only the cities they visit, or to be turned off entirely to go incognito when they have reason to for their own quests/activities.
 
Further, I'm sure we wouldn't want real-time reporting of where WL's are, but perhaps the database the Town Criers draw their messages from could be updated once a RL day, just as LORE itself (normally) updates once a day.
 
If, as I've heard discussed, the DM's are being given authority over seperate regions of the world, it would be their responsibility to keep the entries for the text that would appear in the magenta colored bit up to date.  Editing the entries as events occured, or situations in the region change.
 
Maybe such a system can't be done though.  I'm still not as knowledgeable about what can be accomplished with NWscript and the Aurora Toolset, and other tools for modding NWN as I'd like to be.  Or maybe it would be simply too much trouble to implement and upkeep from the Team's point of view.  In any case, it's an idea I had, and I think it would benefit the world and enhance some systems already in play if it can be and is later implemented.

7
General Discussion / Party forming in Fort Vehl...
« on: February 27, 2012, 07:37:04 pm »
For lower level characters in the 8-16 level range preferably, a party is preparing to set out from Fort Vehl to the Dragon Isles.  Estimated departure time is in about 15-30 minutes from this post.

8
Trade and Market Hall / Mineral Diamonds for Sale
« on: February 08, 2012, 09:14:32 am »
5 uncut Mineral Diamonds offered for 2,000 True each, or 9,000 True altogether.
 
Interested parties should contact Jetta Ravenlock directly.

9
Okay...  Was reading another thread just a minute ago and part of the discussion was about how some new items wouldn't be added due to an already over-stuffed item palette and it got me thinking of possible solutions that might be easy to implement to relieve some of that item palette crowding.
 
 The most obvious was of course to look at 'flavor' items that are otherwise useless and lacking of value.  This would include removing things like the Stone Club or Rusty Red Light Dagger, which have penalties that make them undesirable for use by even starting characters.  However, I kind of like the flavor they add to the game-world with the descriptions they posess.
 
 So, then I thought, why not yank out all those different individual Material Spell Components and replace them with tiered Material Component Bags with a limitted number of uses (charges) each?  Here's what I mean (and it would require some re-scripting of the spells I'm sure), but each spell-level would have one of these Material Component Bags with say 100 uses, set at increasing prices for each higher level at the magic vendors.  Any spell of level 1 that required a material component would use 1 charge from it's associated component bag when cast, rather than this bit of twisted leather, or that bit of bat guano, or whatever.  Any spell of level 2 uses a charge from a Level 2 bag, etc.  Alternatively, there could just be one bag for each three levels of spells (matching the tiers of the Eschew Materials feats), and higher level spells within a tier would simply use more charges.  So, in the first example a level 1 spell uses one charge from a tier 1 bag, a level 2 spell uses 2 charges, and a level 3 spells uses 3 (or 4) charges.  Then at 4th level spells you'd use 1 charge from a tier 2 bag, and so on.  You now have a platform for an additional gold-sink system (yes, casters, feel free to grumble if you like, but we all know those spells you cast at higher levels give you serious gold-earning advantage over non-casters when soloing.  So it adds some balance, I think.), and another bonus to mages is that they don't have to scrounge the world over for sometimes hard to find materials.  Heck, if you wanted you could still set up the system so it only affected lower level spells, and retain the current material component requirements for spells of level 7 and up, but you wouldn't have the benefit of removing quite as many items from the palette that way.  The Eschew Materials feats would still retain their value also, since they would free casters from the need to buy component bags, and thus also the need to carry said bags (which might have a suggested weight of 2 - 5 lbs. each).
 
 Anyhow, it's an idea, and I'm sure there'll be other reasons than I've listed here as to why it can't or won't be implemented, but in my opinion at this moment it's still a good idea.    All constructive feedback, whether positive or negative, is welcomed.  However, let's avoid any heated flames, shall we?  ;)

10
General Discussion / Crafting Tools - I know, again, right?
« on: November 22, 2011, 10:37:10 am »
Look, I normally don't like to complain too much, but I'm making a complaint now.  Could there please be something done to remove the breaking of crafting tools from the system?  It's simply ridiculous and unrealistic how often tools break in Layonara's NWN incarnation.  This morning I've had three Smith's Hammers break in rapic succession.  The first I got maybe 10-20 uses out of since when I'd bought it yesterday.  The second broke after no more than three uses, and the one I just bought broke before I even got to use it once.
 
 In real-life I'm almost certain that metalsmiths made tools to last at least a year or two before needing to be replaced... honestly!
 
 I understand that crafting tools are supposed to be a gold-sink, but really?  I could buy a house or two in Prantz for the amount of True I've lost over the years to breaking tools if I combinded the totals from all my crafting characters.  I know for certain that I can't claim to have made as much or more in return for all those broken tools except perhaps with one character who focussed on making glass & crystal and found a good market for them.  But honestly, digging sand, mining coal, and making glass and crystal gets boring after a while, and isn't for every player or character.
 
 As a gold sink, I just don't think it's practical anymore (if it ever was).  Most crafting guilds sell their wares for much less than it would cost a new character to invest to get good enough to make a product, and by the time a new character can make something, they've already outgrown it in most cases anyhow.
 
 Sorry for ranting, but I'm just really steamed at the moment about this issue.

11
General Discussion / We're looking for you Hellblazer...
« on: November 20, 2011, 07:22:10 pm »
[SIZE=48]To wish you a Happy Birthday![/SIZE]
 [SIZE=48][/SIZE]
 I hope it's been a good one for you, friend!

12
Ask A Gamemaster / Spellsword PrC & Weapon Choices
« on: October 04, 2011, 04:06:46 pm »
Alright, I've been tinkering with a new character concept in my head for a couple days now, and part of the concept would include levels as a Spellsword.  Looking at the LORE entry regarding the Spellsword PrC, it wasn't entirely clear to me whether there was some reason, mechanically or lore-wise that a Spellsword would actually have to use a sword as their weapon.
 
 Another way of getting to my question is this:  Spellswords are required to have the feats Weapon Proficiency (Simple) & Weapon Proficiency (Martial), and those two feats cover the use of a wide range of weapons, many of which are not swords.  So, can a "Spellsword" actually use something like a flail, or an axe in conjunction with their abilities, or do the abilities only work with swords?
 
 Is "Spellsword" then just a generic term used to describe anyone capable of channeling the Al'Noth through a melee weapon while ignoring the hindering effects heavy armour has on casting?

13
General Discussion / Wishes for...
« on: September 24, 2011, 04:56:07 pm »
[SIZE=32]A Very Happy Birthday to EdTheKet![/SIZE]
 [SIZE=32][/SIZE]
 From myself and likely the rest of the Layonara community as well.

14
Development Journals and Discussion / Emwonk T'noduoy - From One
« on: August 24, 2011, 10:04:23 am »
Quest Series: From One
 Quest DM: thedagda
 Quest Series Start Date: April 23, 2010 (Jular 12, 1464)
 Quest Series End Date: August 7, 2010 (Apreal 9, 1469) (In addition there was some additonal Forum/PM-based RP and follow-up, plus additional follow-up sessions in-game on September 6th, 2010, and beyond.)
 
 
 Player Characters Involved:
 
 Emwonk T'noduoy
 Andrew Reid
 Jennara Creekskipper
 Daniel Benjamin Poetr
 Feawen
 Caerwyn Ahrail'lan
 Razeriem
 Drexia
 Argali Trueaxe
 Lana Poetr
 Durgen Strombrow
 Farros Galdor
 Hanta Deshaldi
 Lance Stargazer
 Gormungard Boulderanvil
 
 
 Notable NPC's:
 
 Veska - Prominent female Halfling from a Halfling settlement in the Rolling Hills area of Dregar.
 
 Jez - Romantic interest of Emwonk from Veska's settlement.
 
 Rassle - The Doppleganger slave trader who had been sabotaging the crops of Veska's settlement and leading off females from the village to "learn better farming methods" while in fact he had been selling them as slaves.
 
 Gornor - Leader of the group of slavers who were buying slaves from Rassle. The slaver group all bore tattoos of a knife and skull with a snake winding through the socket, and a red boar-head.
 
 Anacoth - Leader of the demonic enclave that was purchasing the slaves from the slavers lead by Gornor.
 
 Jed - A Human boy who had been found inside the caverns occupied by Anacoth and her demonic host, severely traumatized by having been forced to watch as his own mother and friend were consumed by the demons. Andrew Reid and Emwonk both worked hard to help Jed recover from his trauma so he could be successfully reunited with his father in a small farming settlement near Dalanthar.
 
 Taorn - Jed's father. A large, relatively hot-headed heavilly muscled farming man who was grateful for the return of his son.
 
 
 Quest Series Summary:
 
 (I'll update this section further at another time.  I'd had the whole summary typed out and ready to post, but lost it due to a special character in Gormungard's name (the unlouts over the o) when I had pasted his name into the thread from one of the chat-logs.)

15
Development Journals and Discussion / Emwonk T'noduoy - Emception
« on: August 22, 2011, 10:55:01 am »
Mar 12, 1486
 
 Emwonk paced the floor in the common area near the fireplace in the Silverbuckle Inn.  A miniature lightning storm flashed and crackled about his person as he waited anxiously for Sister Bernice to arrive.  This would be the day she would begin treating him, and he still had doubts about her nature, and whether she may or may not serve the Wardens in all actuallity.  Elohanna sat nearby reassuring him that Sister Bernice would arrive soon and could indeed be trusted.  Perhaps he was simply fearful of what might be hidden in the depths of his own mind that had caused him to become as he was now.  He needed clarity and control though, this he knew above all the turmoil going on within himself.
 
 The woman, Sister Bernice, arrived.  As before she was of frigid personality, and detached, refering to Emwonk as "the subject" even in his very pressence.  It irritated him that she seemed to think of him as mothing more than ... what?  An object?  A sick animal needing tending?  A puzzle to be worked out and forgotten when finished?  It seemed the woman chose her words and actions precisely not only to provoke Emwonk, but Andrew as well, and perhaps even Elohanna.  As Andrew helped get things set up in a room upstairs, the woman even asked him to bring -his- favorite red chair from downstairs for herself to sit in.
 
 Then there was the blue and white pill with a "D" upon its surface that she'd given Emwonk.  He couldn't help but wonder if the "D" wasn't there as a provocation of paranoia from the woman who'd once hunted him and called herself Destiny.  Yet he took the pill anyway, as Bernice had claimed it was a sedative to help him reach the relaxed state he'd need to be in for treatment, and he couldn't tell otherwise after his brief inspection.
 
 They receeded to the room he'd be treated in, the four of them together.  Himself, Andrew, Elohanna, and the stern woman Sister Bernice, whom Emwonk thought lacked any iota of bedside manner.  The sedative pill hadn't been enough to effect Emwonk much to her surprise, especially given his diminutive size even in comparison to other Halflings.  Perhaps his special qualities interfeared with it in some way?  Perhaps it was simply all the roiling emotions and tension he had within himself about all of this so called treatment about to take place.  In any case, because the pill hadn't done the trick, Sister Bernice produced a vial of a blue liquid that Emwonk knew to be much more potent to the point that he questioned the safety of it.  It didn't help that because of the blue color it reminded him of the "Bad Soup" the Wardens had forced upon him years ago, though that had glown blue and had felt like liquid ice going down.  This concoction merely made Emwonk go nearly limp and sink into the bed upon which he lay.
 
 He saw a butterfly fluttering it's way around the room on velvet wings as his mind drifted further into numbness.  Then he could hear Sister Bernice talking in a near chant-like voice telling him to go back to his childhood.  Again and again, and again her voice intoned and seemed to get more distant, yet no less audible.  Darkness crept in from all directions until Emwonk lost sight of the room around him, his friends, and even the butterfly.
 
 He stood then near a river, or stream.  A young Halfling girl came running towards him.  He noticed he seemed young again himself.  What was this place?  Was it a memory?  He didn't know, and everything felt so strange.  The girl spoke, presumeably to himself.
 
 "Dante!," the girl skipped toward himself and then stopped to giggle as Emwonk looked around in confusion at her, and his new surroundings.
 
 "Current, unidentified entity...," he greeted her, but something about the words didn't seem right.  "Umm... nikki," he added.
 
 The girl seemed amused and responded.  "Dante!," she laughed, "What the heck are you babbling about!  I've been looking all over for you!"
 
 Who was this person?  He decided to ask her, "Who are you?"
 
 "Betti, you dope!  You know... your sister.  What the heck is wrong with you?"
 
 The name didn't ring any bells to him, for all intents she was still a stranger, but he answered, "I... don't know?"
 
 "Mom was right, maybe you are losing it!," Betti giggled and began floating a small fireball in her hand playfully.
 
 "Losing what?," Emwonk replied, his mind still clogged with confusion by the whole of it.  "Mom?," he asked, not remembering his mother, and wanting to know more.
 
 Bettie looked at him with a hint of exasperation, "Oh brother," she laughed again, "Come on the people will be here soon!  From the special school!"
 
 He paused to think in the moment about this new information, but still nothing struck him as familiar.  "What school?," He asked Betti curiously.
 
 "The one for the gifted kids.  The ones like us!," she paused only to take a breath and continued, "I'm so excited!"  She truly did look exuberant, and bounced on her toes with barely controlled energy.
 
 Emwonk thought about it all for another minute while Betti waited on him, perhaps too distracted by the fire she played with to even wonder what took him so long.  Nothing was familiar.  He felt he had to find out more and decided to start with his location.  "I don't know where I am," Emwonk stated plainly to Betti.
 
 For a moment Betti regarded him with curiosity, as though wondering if he were sincere, or merely playing a game with her.  Finally she pronounced, "What do you mean?  We're right here, near the village!"
 
 It wasn't good enough, he wanted to know something more specific.  A name for the place, he needed to know.  He asked, "Which village?"
 
 There was a sudden flash of light, and he felt as though he'd been kicked in the head by a mule.  He blinked his eyes shut hard reflexively and clutched at his head.  When the pain subsided as quickly as it had come he opened his eyes once more to find he was elsewhere.
 
 It was dark, and wet.  He stood chest deep in water covered with a layer of green scum.  Twisted trees grew up out of the mirk in all directions.  To one side he could see a patch of relatively dry ground, and on it a large ring of mushrooms.
 
 After his tongue rambled off it's initial questionings of "What?," "Where am I now?," and "Betti?  Where are you?", he paused a moment and regarded the patch of mushrooms.  He began slogging toward them numbly, "Mushrooms..."
 
 Just as he reached the edge of the mushroom-ring there was another flash of light and sudden pain in his head.  The sharp stabbing of it nearly caused him to crumple this time.  "Aah!," he shouted from the pain.  Yet he kept his feet under him after all and opened his eyes to yet another new place.
 
 He stood on the grilling of a metal walk-way.  Below him the distance was obscured by a bed of thick fog.  Other walkways, some bent and twisted as though torn apart by some gargantuan beast stretched off into the distance in an almost labyrinthine way.
 
 "Hello? Anyone here?," he questioned the twisted metal walkways and the fog all around, "Where am I?"  There was only silence, eerie, and devoid of any sound at all aside from the faint echoes of his own voice and perhaps the static sounds of condensation dripping off the metal and falling to somewhere far below.  "Helllooo?," he called out again and waited.
 
 There was another bright flash, and knife-in-the-head pain, but then when he next opened his eyes he was back in the room upstairs in the Silverbuckle.  Andrew sat asleep, Bernice watched and scribbled, bent toward him observantly, and Elohanna smiled down at him as though a burden had been lifted from her mind.  Emwonk's own stomach rumbled protest at being left empty overly long in it's opinion.  After finishing with rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Emwonk patted the complaining tummy with one hand while he looked around in continued confusion.  The room almost seemed like a dream itself still, and the fog in his mind wasn't clearing as quickly as he'd have liked if he'd been more alert to notice it.
 
 Andrew hadn't quite been asleep after all, or the rumble from Emwonk's belly might've woken him, because he asked if Emwonk were hungry.  Emwonk merely pointed to his pack laying in the corner and nodded.  Once Andrew set the pack onto the bed within his reach he fished out some dried fish and a canteen and began to nibble and sip.
 
 Elohanna and Bernice both continued to watch him and Bernice asked whether he was alright.  Maybe she wasn't all bad after all, he began to think.  She instructed him he could remove the bandage from his arm if he liked, and then asked questions about what he could remember of his dream-state.  Emwonk still groggy from the experience explained what he could.  Andrew seemed to think the name Dante fit Emwonk well, and seemed pleased.  Elohanna was surprised to hear he had a sister, and Sister Bernice was pleased with all the detail he could describe, stating that she thought his progress for this first session was "a success" and even smiled as she offered to help him continue to really dig deeper into his mind.
 
 Emwonk himself remained doubtful that any of what he'd just experienced would help him gain control of his mind, but he knew he needed to continue to know for certain.  Focus on the goal in mind, he readilly agreed to see this journey onward.

16
Quest Title: Who Took My Cheese??
 Quest Run Date: 6 August, 2011
 Quest DM: Ravemore
 
 
 Summary:
 
 A respectable Halfling woman, Riesaleah Nash of the Wisefoot Trading Company, goes missing in Mariner's Hold. As Emwonk and others dig deeper they find that not only has this one person gone missing, but 37 or more other persons have dissappeared recently, mostly from among the city's poor and destitute.  At first, members of the rival merchant company, Crimwell & Sons, are suspected.  Chief among the suspects at Crimwell & Sons is another Halfling by name of Blanyard, though after an interview with him Andrew believes the fellow too smitten with Riesaleah and worried for her to have been her abductor.  Then a local tax collector, Braile Norsem, becomes a suspect. After Pimpernell Greentoe has a face to fang encounter with a large rodent-like creature in the docks district it soon becomes clear that the root of the problem is a local gang known as the Rat Pack who are also were-rats. An expedition into one of their hideouts is organized by the group of do-gooders which included Emwonk, Andrew William Reid, Aesthir Stargazer, Buddy Tenker, Chakar Achmed El'Mujahir, Fleur, and Katelyn Poetr. During the course of the raid Emwonk dies (again!) and is raized by Aesthir, and the missing Halfling woman is rescued and many were-rats and gang-members are killed.  It is also uncovered that the Rat Pack gang was actually running an extortion scheme against Crimwell & Sons, and that the tax collector (Braile Norsem) and his brother (Hansel Norsem) were the leaders of the gang.  It is believed Hansel Norsem was one of the many were-rats slain in the raid, however Braile Norsem remains unaccounted for.  Several more gang dens remain throughout the city, and more were-rats may remain at large.
 
 Related Links:
 Mariner's Hold - Missing Person
 
 
 Quest Rewards & Character Developments:
 
 
 
  • Emwonk and the party collected cash in the amount of about 1,124 (* still pending additional reward money) Trues each from looting, and rewards posted by Wisefoot Trading and the Silverbuckle Inn.
  • Emwonk earned a +1 Gather Information bonus to rolls dealing with Gang Activity in Mariner's Hold. See the quote below.
Quote from: Ravemore via PM
Good job yesterday. The following is formal notification of some long term results for Emwonk resulting from the quest:
 
Emwonk has gained some insight into gangs, their structures, and how they operate through his investigations. Any future gather information rolls he makes in regards to gang activity in Mariner's Hold will be given a +1 with no expiration.
 
Feel free to incorporate this into future RP and development for your character.
[/LIST]

17
Seplar 16, 1484
 
 The short halfling with greased-back hair and mirrored goggles sighed in frustration yet another time as he attempted speaking with a merchant.  It was simpler, he'd found, to just point at what he wanted and pay whatever coin was asked... but also more costly.  Just once he wanted to be understood enough that he could haggle down the prices of the things he needed to continue his existance.  That is when it occured to him that for a long time he'd simply just been existing.  For years he'd made little to no progress in his plans for revenge against those who'd taken away his ability to speak normally.  He concluded his transaction, doing his best to suppress the sparks coursing about himself due to his frustration.  It seldem helped him any if the commoners he dealt with became frightened because of his sparking.  Taking the loaf of still warm and moist, freshly baked bread he'd paid for, and walking away with a shake of his head, Emwonk set his mind to thinking.
 
 Where was the Current leading him?  Perhaps it was waiting for him to begin leading himself more?  How could he know for certain?  It wasn't like the Current to speak to him a booming, commanding voice that told him exactly what to do, step-by-step.  No, that was never the way the Current lead.  It was a ... prompting, inside that nudged him in this direction or that most often.  Easilly confused with his own whims at some times, and at others times so strong that there could be no doubt.
 
 Still, Emwonk contemplated how for years he'd simply been drifting...  That is, during the times when he was conscious of his own being.  He knew there were still times when he was not.  There were times when the nightmares took over his reality, and his grasp on it.  Sometimes for months at a time.  He only knew those times happened because he would find himself somewhere he had no idea of how he'd gotten to.  Stumbling out of woods or marsh onto a road and suddenly coming to himself.  Clarity would form out of the initial confusion, and he would then set to living his life again in more or less full control.  Until the next event occured.
 
 Which brought his thoughts back again to what he'd done in his life so far, and how very short a distance on his own road to defeating the Wardens he had yet traveled.  It was true he had done many things.  Some were really great things.  He had been instrumental in freeing Ezlab and defeating Gimbol.  He had saved the city of Stort from a plague almost single-handedly, retrieving the needed ingredients for the cure when others had failed.  He'd faced wrongful trial at the hands of Saida, an agent of the Wardens.  He'd escaped the clutches of Destiny and other hunters in the Warden's employ on several occasions.  He'd helped save Jez's town from the eaters, and helped Jed recover from his ordeals with those demons.  These things and so many others, he had done.  Yet, it seemed in all of that, he'd gotten almost no nearer his own goals, save for the gathering of credit with a few allies, who may or may not in the end prove to be invaluable when the final confrontation with the Wardens came.
 
 He needed to take more control, he felt the Current guiding him in this thought.  To do that, however, he would need to retake control of his own mind first.  How could he lead anyone against the Wardens, when he himself could cave to his inner nightmares and lose reason for days or even months at a time?
 
 "Towels & shoebrushes!", Emwonk muttered grumpilly to no one in particular, drawing glances from those folk he passed by in the crowded city market.  His own thougths and attentions were focused too far inward for him to notice their stares for a few moments.  How would he consolidate his mind?  He dwelt upon the question as he paced onward.
 
 Suddenly he stopped in alarm, and looked about with eyes alert to every detail and ears just as vigilant.  He needed to be more careful to keep his guard up, especially here where there were so many who could be agents of the Wardens.  He was sure they still sought him, still waited for an opportunity to recapture him and force him to alter the flow of the Current.  If they ever succeeded to bend his own will to their evil, it would change the world in dreaful ways.  The Current told him so in every fibre of his being.  The Current was all of creation, and all of creation was part of the Current.
 
 Emwonk spat at the ground, trying to rid his mouth of the memory of the 'bad soup' the Wardens had forced him to imbibe.  The concoction that had altered his very being while they tried to turn him into their tool.  Then he wept.  His sobs rang out in the dim alley he'd turned into to hide his grief.  Painful memories surfaced and choked him, of his friend Butterfly, torn apart before his eyes by cruel-beaked birds.  Even the ache of his own body returned to him as he remembered how he'd hung from those phantom chains of old, helpless to save her while the Wardens tortured and mocked without end.  Then came the blinding white flash of the surge, as the Current worked through him to free him from his captors.  After, the shock of discovering the Wardens had charred his two Elven friends and cell-mates to blackened husks while he'd been under the power of the surge.  Freedom beckoned, and Emwonk had no time to mourn them.
 
 He blinked away the bad memories and tears, and realized he was still in the alley.  Lifting the bottom edges of his goggles he let the frozen tears cascade to the ground below and set about finding his way again, loaf of toast firmly in hand.  Maybe he could find someone to help him regain his mind again, and put the nightmare-memories to rest finally...but who?  Andrew?

18
[SIZE=18]Turning Points

[/SIZE]
I - The Bully
[/B]The walk home from the school-house was often quiet and uneventful. So, it had been a surprise to both Raelyn and Lemont to hear taunting laughter and the sound of a minor scuffle from just round the corner of an alley they were approaching along their usual route. The two, brother and sister, paused to look into the shaded run between two buildings to see what the commotion was all about. There they witnessed a boy they knew named Jamison being held against the wall of one building by two older, larger children while a third child poked at Jamison's chest with one finger, and leered menacingly. The third child was none other than Tony Aleman, a bully who was a year older than Lemont, and easily more heavily muscled than Lemont's own lithe frame. The bullies hadn't noticed Lemont and Raelyn yet, and Lemont took a breath while he languished over what to do.

Lemont liked Jamison well enough, and the two had played together and explored the woods on the edge of town on several occasions, though Jamison was younger than Lemont himself by two years. On the other hand, Tony and his thuggish allies Tucker, and Stanly were nothing but trouble. Trouble that Lemont didn't want to get involved with, and that he certainly didn't want Raelyn to have to face.

"Hey! Leave him alone!," Raelyn shouted at the bullies before Lemont had finished his own thoughts. The four sets of eyes in the shade of the alley all turned to look. Jamison's filled with hope and pleading, while the three bullies filled their own eyes with anger and malice.

"Butt out if you know what's good for ya, girlie!," Tony shouted back at Raelyn. He made to turn his attention back to Jamison without a second thought, but Raelyn had more courage than any girl her age ought to, and an inborn righteousness that Lemont could never understand.

Lemont knew that by Toran, Raelyn was doing right standing up for little Jamison, but he stood frozen himself that moment, fearful of Tony's retribution more than he was inclined to do the right thing. Numbly, and a moment too late he tugged on Raelyn's sleeve and muttered to her, "Come on Rae', let's go before they decide to hurt us too. We can get Dad to help Jami'."

Raelyn's sleeve slipped free of his grasp as quickly as she took three steps forward into the alley and continued to scold Tony. "I said, "Leave him alone!" Tony! It's not right to be mean like that!" Tony turned to face her as she shook her finger at him righteously.

The sneer on the bully's face was almost gleeful as he quickly stepped forward toward Raelyn and thrust his arms out to knock her down on her bottom. As the dust kicked up by her impact swirled about her he ranted, "Shoulda minded your own, girlie!"

Lemont's anger flared seeing his sister pushed to the ground and he finally began to step in, fists clenched for a swing at Tony, but Tony turned to Lemont with a scowl. "Ya gonna try somethin' twig-boy?," Tony challenged mockingly. It was all that it took for Lemont to freeze again from his fears.
"Didn't think so.," Tony commented before turning to his friends and ordering, "C'mon fellas, we've got what we wanted from Jamie anyhow. Let's not waste more time." With that Tony and the other two shoved past Lemont and left the alley.

Lemont bent to help Raelyn up, and as she returned to her feet she smiled at him. "See? We saved Jamie. So what if I got pushed down? It didn't really hurt." She brushed dust off her dress and it swirled in the air around her as it began its slow process of settling again. "Mom'll be a little miffed about the dirt though..."

Lemont looked for Jamison to see if he was alright, but the other boy had already run out the other end of the alley. Lemont's own feelings of guilt ate at him. He should have been the one to stand up to Tony, Stanly and Tucker, not Raelyn. His pride was hurt too, to be out-shown by his sister. He'd have to find some way to even the score with Tony, for Raelyn's honor, and his own.


II - The Push Come Shove
It wasn't more than a week past that Tony had pushed Raelyn down in the dirt and dust of the alleyway. Lemont had dreamt of revenge on the bully almost every night since. This day Lemont had been sent out on an errand to buy a small sack of flour for the household bread. He was merrily on his way to the general store with coin in pocket and pleasant thoughts on his mind despite the light rain when he heard a sobbing from that same alleyway. He stepped round the corner in time to see Tony and his companions leaving out the other end, and Jamison wiping at a bloodied nose with his sleeve.

Anger welled up in Lemont, as well as a plan of action. The bullies hadn't seen him, and he knew if he was quick he could surprise them. "I'll get 'em for ya Jamie!," he uttered as he sprinted past the other boy. Coming up on the three from behind, Lemont launched himself into Tony with all the force he could muster, sending Tony face-first into a puddle of muddy water. For that spit second Lemont felt satisfied, and exhilarated that justice had been done. Until the other two boys tackled him and pressed his own face into the mud mercilessly. Tony got up and began kicking him in the ribs repeatedly, all the while shouting obscenities and instructions to Tucker and Stanly about how they should hold Lemont for the next blow, or how they should take a turn or two themselves. Eventually they rolled him over and searched his pockets, taking the coins Lemont had been entrusted with for the flour.

Lemont was only dimly aware through the pain of it all when a guardsman's voice called out from down the way and the bullies scattered in all directions, leaving him soaking in the mud of the dirt, the rain, and his own blood. He didn't even become entirely aware that the guardsman had picked him up and carried him home until he heard the shock in his mother's voice and felt her fingers running gently over him, checking the seriousness of his wounds.
He lay in bed that night and all the next day, one eye swollen shut, his lip split, and his spirit in tatters. Raelyn stayed by his side, giving him sips of water when he asked, and praying silently to Toran when he lay still and silent in his misery. "Toran. Protecting the weak. The whole crock. It just isn't worth it!," he decided as he lay there, "Where was Toran to protect me? But Tony, Tucker, Stanly... They're going to pay one day. Somehow, I'll see to it. Somehow."

He never spoke of who had beaten him so badly. When questioned about it, he would just say he had not seen who'd done it, too afraid of what the bullies might do to him if he told. The names of the three were even brought up directly, thanks to the witness of the guardsman who'd carried Lemont home, but still Lemont wouldn't finger them.


III - Toran's Favored Child
Around six years had passed since Lemont was beaten in the rain by Tony and his little gang. For a month after their family had to do without bread, to Lemont's private shame. After he took his first bite of bread when they did have flour again to make more, it somehow tasted bitter in his mind, and he vowed to himself not to eat bread again until he took down the bullies and restored his honor. So, for about six years Lemont left any bread he was given at meals untouched, until it simply wasn't offered to him anymore.

In the time that had passed, the three thugs had been given jobs with Tony's father at the tavern. As they grew older they stopped beating local children for fear of running afoul of the town guard. Though they turned to mugging strangers passing through town if there was opportunity enough.

Lemont spent his waking hours when his chores were finished each day either brooding and planning, or practicing swordplay and balance exercises at first. But as time passed, so did much of his resolve for vengeance. Besides, girls were beginning to become a pleasant distraction, but most of them wouldn't spare a glance for a brooding loner it seemed. So other plans began to form in Lemont's envisioning of his own future.

He was almost eighteen now. Raelyn was fourteen, and still as devout to Toran as ever. Lemont went through the motions, pretended to aspire to such faith as his sister and parents. Though sometimes their disappointment came through in subtle ways, everyone else pretended they believed Lemont's act. They were always trying to encourage him to believe again, of course, but everyone in the family knew he was just going through the motions. It was easier for everyone that way.

Then the cursed letter came. Raelyn was accepted to the lousy leadership pogram. Mom and Dad couldn't have looked more proudly at her, like they hadn't looked at him since that day he'd been beaten in the mud. Toran's favored child! All the resentment had piled up. All the anger had built over the years. All the plans for vengeance and the reclamation of his own honor from the three that had robbed him flooded back into his mind.

He set out again that night into the rain after his family was sound asleep. He was careful to be sure none of them stirred as he left. He found Tony first, drunk and nearly passed out behind the tavern. Lemont looked closely about and saw no witnesses before he chanced taking his opportunity. It was almost too easy pushing the man's face down into a puddle and holding him there til he no longer drew breath. Lemont left Tony there face-down in the puddle, pausing long enough to take the knife he knew Tony always carried. After all, the knife might make a good memento of the night Lemont took back his life from the thug.

Next Lemont found Stanly and suffocated him in his bed. He almost felt a twinge of remorse for this killing. Word around town was that Stanly had begun to feel badly for all the terrible things he had done to others with Tony and Tucker over the years. Lemont had even noticed Stanly present for sermons at temple lately, and the fellow had looked genuinely depressed. Maybe he would have turned his life around in time, but Lemont wanted his own pride back. He took care to not be seen as he left after he hanging Stanly's limp body up from the rafters. Hopefully everyone would believe the man had really hung himself and not suspect the truth of the matter.

Tucker was last. He had been harder to find than the other two, not at home or his usual haunts. Lemont found Tucker bending over an unconscious traveler he'd been about to pat down for valuables after he'd patted the poor fellow down with a club. Coming quickly from behind Tucker, Lemont slit the man's throat with the knife he'd taken from Tony earlier. He stood over Tucker for a minute, head filled with thoughts of the triumphs he'd wrested from this night, watching the blood pulse out from between the fingers of the hand Tucker clutched to his severed throat uselessly. Victory over the three bullies was his at last, and with finality. Lemont scanned the surroundings again to see no witnesses. He double-checked to be sure the traveling stranger was still actually unconscious. He then dropped the knife he'd taken from Tony onto the ground next to Tucker, reasoning that perhaps the authorities would believe Tony himself had done the deed in some fit of jealousy or greed. Quickly Lemont scavenged through the unconscious traveler's belongings, and took a few that looked valuable. These he returned to Tony's body with and left on his person to further the deception he'd envisioned.

The rain of the night presented its own problem. Lemont's clothes were drenched in it by the time he'd arrived outside his home. He took them off, examining them in the darkness for bloodstains. It seemed that the rain had prevented any from occurring. He hung them out on the clothesline before sneaking back inside. Since the rain had set in unexpectedly, other clothes from the days laundering still hung out as well, so perhaps the new additions wouldn't draw any suspicions.

Sliding back into his own bed at home, Lemont remained awake until dawn, pondering how likely it would be for himself to get caught. It had been six years since he'd last tangled with the three, and in that time he'd avoided them in the public eye, and kept his own nose squeaky clean. He'd kept covert tabs on the three during his plotting for years, listening to gossip to learn of where their lives had settled into routine. Surely no one would suspect Lemont, would they? Maybe it would be best to quietly leave town after the initial reactions of the three deaths were run through their course, and before suspicious minds started poking around. He would act hurt and offended that Mom and Dad were making such a fuss over his sister, which really wouldn't be a stretch, and that would be his excuse for leaving. At the very least, as a means to ensure his survival should the authorities discover he was a murderer before he was ready to leave, Lemont resolved to visit the local Bind-stone the next day and risk dying on the spot trying to bind his soul for the chance that he would succeed in becoming Stone-bound.

In Lemont's mind though, justice was done, and most folks who had known the three likely wouldn't miss them. He had his pride and honor back now. He was a man again. And who wanted to be stuck in this hole of a town anymore, anyhow?

19
Fixed Bugs / Housing Bug - 173 Blackford
« on: April 22, 2011, 10:09:59 pm »
Okay... Now I totally didn't expect this to happen.  Within the last few weeks I sold the house (173 Blackford Castle) that my character Amgine had owned using the in-game option to put it back on the market.  Tonight, out of curiosity I checked the availability of the house with the Housing Vendor in Leringard and saw that it was available.  I went through the purchase dialogues, expecting to be told I didn't have the funds to buy the home, but instead it was sold to me for exactly nothing.  Not a single True.
 
 I guess you could say Emwonk found the house abandoned and became a squatter!
 
 Obviously this is a bug.  When someone can get around to it, please fix it so that the house goes back on the market at it's proper pricing (which I believe was originally 65,000 True before Amgine made his own renovations to the home).
 
 Even though I don't play here much at all anymore, I still don't wish to be banned for exploiting the system or anything, which is of course why I'm posting here about what happened.  Honesty is the best policy, even if Emwonk wouldn't agree from an in-character point of view.  ;)

20
A few days back I was noticing that the 'fan' (a modified tambourine made to look like a fan) that my character was using to fight with for fun wasn't getting the bonus from my character's dexterity that other light weapons do. I read the description of the Weapon Finesse feat and realized with disappointment that Fashion Accessory type weapons don't work with it. I remember that years ago it was said that due to the way NWN was coded, they couldn't be either. Now I'm wondering if, with some of the more recent updates to NWN itself, it might now be possible?
 
 Otherwise, could it be made possible to take something like a kukri (requiring the Exotic Weapons feat) and add the fan (and/or other fashion accessory item type models) to the weapon customization forge options?
 
 If nothing like the above options can be done, perhaps the bolded portion of the description from LORE should be changed, since in fact mechanicly as it stands right now fans cannot be used as effectively as any other weapon:
 
 
Quote from: LORE Custom Weapons: Fashion Accessory
 
 Fashion Accessory - For those times when one wishes to appear unarmed but yet be able to protect themselves, or just for those who wish to be more elegant, weapons can often be disguised as fashion accessories such as a lady's fan or parasol.
 One of the beautiful martial arts weapon, the fan or iron fan can flick deadly force with the grace of a dance. The iron fan is normally constructued out of metal with eight to ten rods that collapse and open as required. In a more deadly form, the ends of the fan can be spiked to a point for further damage. The fan can be used in either a strike or piercing manner when completely closed or open in either a blocking or slicing motion.
 The key to performing a good fan technique is having strong wrist muscles. The movement to open and close the fan is a slight flick of the wrist that sends a sharp crack of sound as the fan slices open or closed. Traditionally, the fan seems to have been a favorite weapon among many women and men tended to shy away from it because of the delicate gracefulness. Some have wrongly interpreted this softness to weakness in the weapon. But when moves are executed correctly, it is as deadly as any blade or other weapon available.

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