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The Silver Buckle is under investigation for the disappearance of an extremely valuable slave. The Slave was tracked to the Buckle where he seemed to disappear. Authorities spent two days tearing apart the Silver Buckle looking for the Slave and found only the a blood trail leading to the Clinic. Authorities say their is not enough evidence to charge anyone in the disappearance but they have their suspicions.

Hey all, Its been awhile. Now that i'm getting more flexible time at work, ill have alot more time to play this lovely game. I also have a possibility of bringing a couple new bloods to join in the fun.

It will be nice to see you all in game again, Ive missed this game.

-Virgil

Hello friends, old and new. It's been a while since I've been able to sit down and take a breath but I promised myself I would take the time to catch up on what I've been up to and some of the things that have to be done on the technical end over the coming month.

To start, I wanted to say that Layonara is with my heart every day. The friends I made and the moments I shared in its fantasy setting will be cherished moments I'll hold through my whole life with no regret. The past year I've been at a distance, occasionally trying to force my way back into the magic that I know makes me feel like only roleplaying can make me feel. It's been there for short whiles but real world priorities get in the way and days away become weeks and then months. I'm not going to try to explain nor am I sure I even know why, it just happens.

Life's been pretty good. I've become a bit of a sports nut, I even bought season tickets to the Blue Jays for this summer. Nothing new on the love side of things, though a kiss stolen here and there. Work has had me with a lot less time than I was afforded a few years ago but I remain physically and mentally very healthy.

As with playing, my desire for working on the MMO has had to be forced and again other worldly concerns leave me getting side tracked then ultimately not having the fortitude to jump back into the development. I am making progress in a core area though and when I can catch a breath and bare down for the final touches I'll be eager to move on to the areas that others have continued to bear down upon.

Over the coming month there's going to be a few headaches from the technical end. One of our servers is old and has to be updated, this means I have to make a decision to either stay with our existing server setups or consider moving all of our servers to a cloud based setup. I've not made that decision yet and it's a pretty complicated one as Dorganath would be able to attest to as we discussed it on IRC. Once I make that decision I will get a better idea of downtime for all our servers, web, irc, nwn etc.

I touched on the core area I'm working on with the MMO and that's focused on the web end of things. Using the versatility and module rich Drupal CMS I'm developing both a front end to a new updated community site and a back end to the MMO database structure. This could mean some heavy work needed on LORE and perhaps *cringe* if I'm really feeling adventurous, I would transfer the entire forum to drupal's forum. Alternatively there are modules that allow both vBulletin and Drupal work side by side. I wonder, do any of you have Drupal experience?

So I guess that's kind of it for my update. I'll be informing you via the Important World Announcements forum about server downtimes as soon as I can possibly know and with as advanced notice as possible. I apologize in advance if this gets in the way of some scheduled quests.

My best,
James

The bard's first thought was - stars and bloody song, I'm feeling short here.  It was not a thought he had often.  Having to tilt his head back to see the face of the man who just stomped into his tavern made him think of the missing Gurn, and of his long months under the desert of Sedera.
 
His second thought - that is one ugly man.  Well, it figured, mixing those bloods never did seem to work out all that well for the features.  Drab clothing strained to contain a body that only seemed proportional in the barn-like space of the Buckle concert hall.  The head of an axe, wider than most people's waists, was visible on the man's back and the hilt of another weapon jutted from the overly muscled right side.
 
"Welcome to the Silver Buckle, what can I get you?"  Friendly seemed like the way to go.  He was sorely tempted to say "if you're collecting money for someone, I'm not in arrears", but he didn't want to tempt fate - and he was not entirely sure the man would grasp his jest. The huge man looked down, expressionless in a way that indicated highly focused thought or the almost total lack of it.  The bard waited for speech; the giant instead pantomimed bringing a cup to his lips.  Eloquence without effort.  "Of course!  The bar is this way."

Silence rippled one or two tables ahead, their passing leaving a wake of stunned non-sound.  He was his usual self except for straining his already lengthy stride to keep a lead on the big man.  Just another customer, folks.  A solitary dwarf stood, slammed his mug onto his table, scattered some coins without looking, and headed for the door with a scowl.  Well, at least he'd paid.

Both long tables in the bar were occupied with a group of rowdy dockworkers, at least one of which probably had some giant blood.  The newcomer didn't make eye contact and made no hostile moves, instead looking with a hint of dismay at the human-sized bar stools.  The bard walked around to serve, giving Michael the opportunity to slip away and keep an eye on things; the giant man looked over each stool and chose the center of the three on the inside of the bar.  This put his back to the two tables of men.  He didn't seem to care.

If the man's size and obvious strength were enough to make most people quake a little, the way he carefully - almost gingerly - set himself down onto that stool was the stuff of pure comedy.  Oak creaked as the massive bum perched upon the circle wood as if it were a decorative glass plate, and then the big man froze from the waist down.  The bard felt an ache in his ribs from holding in a laugh but the pain was a tiny foreshadowing of what he'd likely feel if he did let the guffaw out and so he held it, biting the inside of his mouth instead.  "What's your pleasure?"

The man brought yet another imaginary cup to his lips then flexed a trunk-like bicep and pointed to it.  "Something strong then?"  A nod.  "Very good, let's see..."  He headed to the liquor cabinet and saw a hefty stack of True filling a hole where two mini kegs of Dwarf's-Head Ale had been.  The coins held down a blood-red note.


Aye Andy, Oi left ye 1300 trues for some beer n salmon, tanks Griff

On the same piece of paper just below:

Aye came back for 3 pear juice n left ye nuter 1000 coins.


He grinned.  It wasn't often he did more than break even, he'd have to thank the dwarf the next time he saw him.

So.  Something strong...he wasn't sure the tolerance so he pulled first a Black Knight Malt from a keg that he'd gotten a lot of woozy compliments on.  Sliding the bottle across the bar, he watched.

The giant opened a much-worn coin satchel and dumped a pile of different coins, many of them bloodstained, onto the bar top.  He didn't count them.  The bard waved a dismissive hand. "First one's free - no coin necessary."  The big man didn't move to take the coin away and lifted the bottle in one meaty paw with a suddenly appraising look.  He uncorked it, sniffed, for all the world looking like an over-sized version of the wine and spirit snobs at the "tasting club" near the city's government district.  An impression that lasted until the man's first upended gulp.

The bottle was set down and the man swallowed, belched, smacked his lips, and frowned briefly.  He finished it on the second swallow, pushed the glass container back to the bard, and flexed the massive bicep once more with a pointed stare.

"Not strong enough...alright then."  He felt a little like an alchemist in an apothecary as he turned to rummage through the bottles and kegs that filled the bar shelves.  "Aha...here we are."  A larger bottle with a dull grey liquid within, and heavy at that.  The giant man's eyebrows rose a hair and he seemed to recognize the brew.  Another uncorking, another sniff, and another sloppy guzzle; this time he finished the bottle before scooping up another completely random handful of coins and dumping them on the bar.  His face seemed on the verge of approval...then he set the bottle closer to Andrew, grunted, and flexed.

Right.

Griff may have drank his primary cabinet dry of the Buckle's strongest ale, but he always had a backup.  He held up a finger.  "I have to check my second bar, I'll be right back."  A quick song and he ran at the speed of sound to the far bar, behind the fireplace relaxation area.  Bottles and mugs were shifted aside...where is it, I know I have some...and back, looming behind an open Cherry River Lambic and two dusty bottles of Green Forest Draft, was what he sought.  He pulled the mini keg out with a fierce, almost competitive grin and dashed back to the main bar.

Let's see how you handle this, big guy.

Around the bar, slapping the keg onto the counter; by now the dockworkers had noticed the drinking and were placing a few bets, the nominal value of which rose considerably when the keg hit the wood.  The bard wiped clean the cover and tapped it with a swift slam of a mallet kept under the bar counter for just this sort of thing.  Tossing the mallet back, he scanned the glassware - there.  The mug he pulled from under the counter was either made for giant kin, dwarven drinking contests, or for surefire alcohol poisoning in any other race.  The bucket-sized glass was at least three quarters of an inch thick.  He strained himself lifting it one-handed.

The giant man's full attention was on the keg and mug.  The bard hauled up the mini keg and rested it on the mug's edge, trying not to grunt with the effort, and let the foamy, deep gold liquid pour in like frothy vengeance.  Mug full, he set the keg aside, grinned wide, and pushed the full glass to his customer.  He used both hands.

Another hasty dump of coin in another random amount - the big man lifted the mug almost reverently, inhaled, and looked not only pleased but anticipatory.  The bard leaned on the edge of the bar and waited.  Billy stopped playing; the dockworkers watched.

Only a slight hesitation and the first mighty gulp was taken, the draft vanishing like water off a beach before a tsunami.  Not quite half the mug, a heroic effort - the big man set it down with some care, and smiled for the first time.  The bard smiled as well.  A nod from his patron who chanced rising from the stool to...to...well, whatever he'd meant to do, it was lost as the unleashed power of Dwarf's Head Draft roared through his blood.  

In slow motion - one knee sliding in, then the other - the giant landed on the stool in a shrieking protest of wood, unable to keep his feet.  The bard grinned and leaned on the bar, humming.  There was a sudden flurry of whispers from the tables.

The giant man gave the bard a single nod, then stared at the mug of draft.  He lifted it again, sucked in a breath, and slammed it back, not dropping it down until nothing remained but tendrils of foam.  There were a few muted cheers as he put both hands on the bar and yanked himself off the stool - sliding down to one knee almost immediately and landing flat on his rear with a burp.

Money changed hands.  The man hauled himself ever so slowly up and pointed to the mug again as he wobbled back onto the stool.

Ooookay.

The bard took a nearly empty bottle of Silver Buckle gin, his house specialty, and emptied into an oversized shotglass.  He tapped the keg into the mug, and in full view of the big man, tipped the generous shot in as well.  The next round of bets swept the room as the giant pulled the mug toward him with exaggerated care, lifting it with both hands this time.  He gulped - again, not quite half - and set it down, blinking.

Nothing happened for a few seconds and the other patrons whooped or groaned depending on their bet - then, with comedic grace, the giant slipped from his now splayed stool and thumped flat to the floor.  Leaning over to look, the bard continued to hum.

The giant lay there for a good two minutes.  He rolled to his side and sat up with both hands on the curled edge of the bar, legs wobbling, but with a heave and a grunt he pulled himself back up into his seat, then out of it, drifting left right and center as he overcorrected for the now-spinning room.  The glass winked tauntingly under the magical light of the statues capping the edges of the bar and the giant man glared at it.  Pulled the mug closer with slow-reacting hands.  Grunted in an almost adversarial way, pounded the bar top once with his closed fist - determination, not aggression - and lifted the mug.  The dockworkers went crazy, chanting and whooping, with "chug! chug" echoing off the rafters.  Even the bard held his breath, wishing he could place a bet of his own - the mug tipped, Dwarf's Head Draft filling the huge mouth - stevedores and cargo haulers turned, watching, the anticipation in the room a vibrant hum in the bard's heart, the mug was returning to the counter empty -

The big guy was going down even as glass hit wood.  Two slow wobbles, his cant too far north, the temptation to yell TIMBER was almost overwhelming...men scrambled out of the way as the he came down flat on his back, leaving a number of dents in the floor courtesy of his back-slung weapons.  The bard allowed himself a grin - that's one for the Buckle, friend - until a sweet elven voice cut through his victory as a petite elf in white knelt to check the giant man's health, throwing a glare at her husband.

"Andrew!  You weren't encouraging him, were you?"  

Uhoh...


[SIZE=10]//Apologies for any inconsistencies as I don't have a log and huge thanks to Dubbel, Elly, and Lyle for last night.  Chug![/SIZE]

...to give the gift of Layo!

(Or, at least, Neverwinter Nights.)

Good Ol' Games still has it on for $5.

Happy Holidays, everyone!

Hello Layonara Community!

Between now and some time on January 2nd, 2012, everyone will receive bonus adventuring, quest and RP XP as well as bonus GP drops.  XP will be awarded at twice (2x) the normal rate and GP will drop in 50% larger quantities (1.5x) than usual.

This is our "gift" to you for the holidays (whichever you may or may not observe) as a thanks for helping make Layonara what it is and what it will continue to be.  Please enjoy the bonus, but also remember the value of RP here.

At 3:05am, EST on December 13th, 2011, my wife gave birth to a beautiful 7lbs 5oz (3314g) baby boy. We are over the moon, healthy and tired. I hope to see you all soon.

Gilshem

*On the late developments , a ship was sunk just before it arrived to Hempstead, the guard mentions that it happened to be an "internal" work, someone produced a fire on the inside of the ship causing it to sunk before arriving the port, the ship was named "The brightest star" and was sailing under comission of the Iron Throne merchant company. The cargo of the ship was rummored to be some ore and woods, none of the cargo was recovered *

*On the other hand this didn't affected the sales of other materials as a big quantity of marble was bought, same as oil and vegetable paints making hard for this materials to be found *

*The guard were buying potions from a woman attaired in cloak of red cloak , the increasingly popular Robyn of Vehl, which decided to move away to offer her wares to other town *

For the more natury rangers/druids and pcs out there, (although non rangers/druids would have a bit more trouble), would it be possible to add physical nests in the areas where ravens, stirge, howls, and falcons lives to harvest? It would make more sense. This way a ranger or druid would not have to kill the birds to get the feathers.

They could range for about the same as the bee nest/hive and gum arabic trees gets for the harvest.

Even as news of the dragon attack in Tilmar begins to filter through to many of the civilised lands so too do stories of Snowtooth, Lord of Bastil arising from his hidden ice caves.

Reports indicate that in the shelter of a furious blizzard that swept across Bastil the mighty Snowtooth has descended upon a fleet of Mistite ships drawing close to Bastil's shores.

In a furious battle between what is now known to have included Varsha the Tide of the North East and her allies in the Trade Winds, as well as a powerful Mistite Voice called Dougal, Snowtooth has brought ice, wind and snowy destruction amidst the dozen or so ships.

It is claimed Snowtooth was supported by a great white Drake as well as dozens of smaller drakes as well. Unprepared for the vicious and sudden assault the outcome was almost decided as Snowtooth and the drakes used the storm to give them momentum in their assault.

In his fury Snowtooth physically lifted Tide Varsha's personal ship out of the water completely then fly high out over the ocean and dropped the ship from a great height. its fate is as yet unknown, nor the fate of the Tide herself and her closest followers who were aboard.

Dougals ship also found itself a prime target and even though the Voice tried to flee almost immediately the mighty drake that flew with Snowtooth froze its sails then snapped its masts like kindling leaving it to float helplessly on the dangerous seas near Bastils southern shores.

When Snowtooth returned he too picked up Dougals broken ship then broke it in half and reached inside to seemingly pluck out a person from on board the ship. This women he placed onto his back before reaching in again and plucking a screaming Dougal out and flicking him through the air to the huge Ice Drake. The Ice drake caught Dougal in his jagged toothed beak and crunched him in two gulping down part of the body as another part dropped away and another passing drake snatched it out of the air and gobbled it down. Only then did Snowtooth carry the broken ship until he was over the coast and dropped it onto the rocks below.

This done he left the Drakes to cause as much damage as they could to the remaining ships and the desperately fighting Trade Winds aboard them.

Certainly the Mistites in Leringard seem very nervous about the news from the north.