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Messages - Aphel
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621
« on: December 15, 2012, 02:09:29 pm »
Description: When entering some areas, crashes occur and the player can't log in again unless moved.
Location: Leringard, Transition from Blackford Castle towards area before Leringard
Verified: na
Reproducable: Yes
Additional Information: It is quite possibly that it is a compatibility issue with NWNQ textures.
622
« on: November 27, 2012, 02:24:31 pm »
Description: The kobolds in Krashin's Ice Caves do not spawn anymore. Possibly, it is an issue with leveled spawns or the triggers.
Location: Krashin, Kobold Ice Caves, both the Cave itself as well as the area leading to it.
Verified: No.
Reproducable: Yes.
623
« on: November 04, 2012, 05:51:50 pm »
Both Rofirein as well as Toran have a rather large army at their disposal (for example, Dezza mentioned 1800 members of the toranite forces in the war between Fiorez and the Deepening Dark - that's already about half a roman legion). Who is paying them? The churches (and thus - the faithful) or do the kingdoms give them money as well? How are they regulated, that means, what kind of rules in regards to numbers, recruitment and so forth are there? Were there any treaties in the past in that regard? To specify the areas a bit more, I am interested in how Hilm, Trelania and Brelin handle these things in regard to the church of the Golden and the Hand of Virtue as an example.
624
« on: November 01, 2012, 01:45:24 pm »
[SIZE=10]Sundance, Hilm Military Field Camp[/SIZE]
Just a few miles up. And a few miles down. Piece of cake. His feet hated him for every step on this trail, nothing more than a twisted path over roots and stones to an outpost, a tower with a few barracks and a wall around it all. It was cold on this side of the hill, especially when the trees stood that close together. William was sweating and loosing water by the gallon, still. His tunic was soaked and uncomfortably cold, and sack full of sand excoriated his shoulders. It hurt, and quite much so, but it was nothing. It all had purpose, to keep him in shape, to prepare him. He woke from a nightmare and was still fighting the aftermath that kept him in his grip, long tendrils pulling him back to wastelands and terror. It was better to not dream at all, he had felt more healthy back then. But at least nobody was sharing his tent when he woke covered in sweat and instinctively ducked behind his shield. But there were no arrows, no dark magics. Just a cold morning near Sundance. So time to suck it up and soldier on. At least I have found the guts it takes to do something on my own, on my own terms. Exercise didn't help him to fall asleep much. Meditation helped, a bit, but still, his mind was in an odd state of turmoil. Many things he thought of as truths he found out to be lies, and what appeared to be strength seemed weakness now. Despite loathing his time in Fiorez City, it had helped him hone off many weaknesses he had harbored before. He nevertheless felt alone, doing his job, yes, but still alone. Of course, he would never have said so. Just suck it up and soldier on. No time to be a loathsome character. It was hard enough to fight of the contempt and disregard for the things he observed and experienced. To not be disgusted and know that to find a more correct path was much harder for others as well was a day to day trial. He learned much from their training, and another useful lecture: to be ignorant, to shut himself off completely, let go, let the beast inside every mortal do the job. To control and harness its powers...fundamentals of warfare and societies. He thought about that a lot. Not that anybody would give him a true for his views on that, ever. They're all big heroes, generals, statesmen, whatever. Strip them naked, push them in the dirt, do not let them sleep, make them sit still in ice cold water, make them bleed - in the end, they were mortals, fragile, scared. Schizophrenic, as well. Too much talk about the Conducts, about law and order and punishment - in the end it was still the rule of the strong over the weak. For some time, he even doubted the value of Toran's words for those that followed him -- because if you need to recite or cite them so often, did that not mean you either could not remember them, or that something else was wrong? And if it was just another form of the rule of the strong over the weak, as The Chosen One and Hector by their choices of action, would that not mean that there was no point in settling disputes in a more civilized manner? He was sure he would be selected out of the order soon enough, because they thought the he was weak. They played their games with him -- tell him that he was not worthy so that he would try harder, for example. So that he would conform, march in line, no matter where they lead him. He was expendable, even if their words were different. Not the way of Toran.But he observed it that way. He remembered so many things recently, things he rather would forget -- because he wanted to answer, to explain, to clarify. But what did it, what would it matter in the end? Not at all. The so called family ... next time somebody wants to settle a dispute with a blade, I could crush him or her if I have the chance. A blade is not a toy, and if they want to settle disagreements by determining who is stronger, not who is right, he could do that. There was a reason he was frowning upon it, and in more than one way. Sometimes, he would meet a patrol on his way up or down. They would look at him oddly, the young man with the scars and the sweat soaked tunic and the big sack over the shoulders, with an ankh dangling from his neck on a simple cord. Some greeted him, others did not. Nobody knew who he was. He didn't knew who they were either. His feet where hating him, tho, and it was hard to keep consciousness firmly in his grasp sometimes. Especially with an empty stomach. Especially in the morning. The last few miles he would be out in the open, exposed to the cold wind running up the steep and twisted path. Sometimes, his feet and knees where big lumps of pain when he reached the top and used a rope to make a punching bag from the sack of sand. He had picked this hill because it was the highest and steepest around. He picked it because the hill reminded him of something, of somebody. He picked the hill because he loathed him, because he disliked every stone, every root, every forced step up, very sliding step down. And when he reached the top, he wondered if it was worth it getting up, and when he was at the bottom, he wondered why he bothered running up there. He woke up in the morning, nightmare -- it was good that Lance had assigned him a tent that was seldom used by others than himself, so nobody saw him waking reaching for his shield and hiding behind it. Some noticed him waking too early and not going to sleep again, doing runs around the camp. It was good training, and when somebody noticed, he started running up the hill. Some of the soldiers were members of a newly formed scouting or some other light infantry unit. Some young, but most of them older, more experienced. Scraped together after their units have been smashed to bits and pieces. Their commanding officer was a woman with red hair and a scar across her face. She had a local accent. "What're you doing, soldier?! Rank, name?!" Striding over from the barrack towards where he had put the punching bag up on a tree. He was ignoring the pain in his legs and focused on the punching bag. Trying to place his blows dead center for now, with as much force as possible. "William Leox. I am a paladin of Toran." She watched him working away at the punching bag with fists, elbows, shin and foot. "It's quite unhealthy what you're doing here. Whose permission have you?" Her voice was used to yelling, commanding, demanding answers and obedience. He wasn't answering quickly, it was hard to focus. "Train as you fight, Ma'am...and... I don't need ... anybodies permission." He couldn't see her slight frown after hearing that statement. "My men say this is the third day you're doing this." "Correct...I was...transferred here...got some...days off." To much babbling, in his opinion. She was beginning to pace up and down. So too much talk for her as well. "Couldn't you have picked another hill?" "No." He looked at his bruised knuckles and continued. "You must hate yourself, soldier, or be outright crazy." "We train as we fight. This...is nothing." It was nothing. Nobody yelling at him to go faster. Nobody around that wanted to stick him a knife between the shoulders at first opportunity. "I must report this to your commanding officer. Who is your commanding officer?" "Speak to Commander...Lance Stargazer...can I ... finish my training please?" "As you were." And she strode away. Soldiers, yes. None of them really like war, they liked to get out of one, not into one. Too many wars. Too many dead. Tomorrow, tomorrow he should rest. Yes. Tomorrow. He would sleep better. No more dreams of fanatical ragtag armies fighting over wastelands in the twilight. No more dreams of the pits opening up and the deep returning to the surface after the realms of the surface fought each other over ideologies that were all nothing but masks for greed and sloth. Civil war over who was right. And he refused to believe that the fate of humans, dwarves and elves would consist of more than pain, blood, ashes and racial bigotry.
625
« on: October 13, 2012, 02:52:51 pm »
Rumors are heard that there will be some sort of meeting at Stormcrest Crossroads held by a ranger, both for sharing stories around the fire as well as finding new companions for hunting trips. Some say there will be festivities to honor the Longstrider, while others say that the Wolfswood Rangers will be there as well to recruit new, promising blood.
There are also whispers that, if those that patrol the lands, meet in such a manner, something foul is afoot...
626
« on: September 19, 2012, 06:24:52 pm »
~ The Testament ~ To be released upon confirmation of my true death, beyond any state of doubt: This is my testament, written in a clear state of mind and unaffected by any blessing or spell. I lived a good life. Make sure others have the same chances.
Breanna Shadowraven, I will love you forever, and whatever kind of fate claimed me, remembering you and thinking of you always has been a great solace for me. We will be together again, fear not. When you are ready, there is a letter from my hand for you as well as half of my worldly possessions. Kyreth inherits my old oak bow as well as my blades together with letters from my hand as well as what Breanna thinks he needs from her share. He will inherit the rest of my worldy possessions. Jilsopine, Elohanna or Sehky are charged with the safekeeping of the items and the letters. The letters are not to be opened by them, should Kyreth decided when he has come of age to not read them, they might open or burn them, I leave that to them. Should Kyreth not be old enough, I trust Andrew William Reid, Elohanna Reid, Jilsopine, Sehky to protect my son. Protect him, but he must go his own way. Teach him well, so that he might have the same possibilities as I did. The task of us all is to be not evil, and to find and be ourselves.
627
« on: September 19, 2012, 06:23:41 pm »
~Testament~
A quarter of my trues goes to the Krandor Hospital.
A third of my trues goes to, should I have one, my partner. Otherwise, it will go to the church.
The rest of my trues shall be split up in equal parts among the following people or groups:
Family Blair of Fort Llast, Marion MacMurray, Hector Bael and the Temple of Toran. The temple of Toran shall use these trues to educate and care for the children affected by the Wars.
My blades shall be returned to Commander Daniella Stormhaven and Lance Stargazer, if they does not want them, they shall be taken good care of by the temple and given away to worthy persons.
My helmet shall be brought to Commander Daniella Stormhaven and Commander Lance Stargazer as well as to all members of the Toran Leadership Program, to ponder and think about the meaning of life and death. I will listen to what you have to say, wherever you are, and Toran knows you hearts. We will meet again. My helmet shall be placed upon the Leox family grave if nobody has a place for it.
My ankh shall be given to my partner, if she does not wish to have it or it is no longer possible to give it to her, place it near the cherry trees in the Citadel. I will never forget the day I saw them, and I wish that I could have been married there.
My armor shall go to Commander Lance Stargazer. Find a good place for it. Death comes to all of us.
There is a letter for Lance Stargazer for him to read as well as one for Jillian Stuart and Daniella Stormhaven. If they do not wish to read it ever, the letter in question shall be burned.
My notes and diaries shall be given for all members of the Toran Leadership Program to access, afterwards to be archived by the Temple of Toran.
My notes regarding strategy and warfare shall be shared and improved upon by the Followers of Toran and Vorax.
My notes regarding armor and buildings shall be kept by the Temple of Toran and Vorax. Copies shall be made to prevent loss of knowledge.
628
« on: September 16, 2012, 11:10:49 am »
He met a few people, remembered the names, mostly. Some seemed quite comfortable with just idling around, and then there was this Dark Elf with a rapier. Tyrel was pretty sure he was a Dark Elf, demeanor and his attempt to keep his face concealed.
Amateur.
The woman in black gave him more trouble. She interfered in the fight – arrows with a broadhead, made of silver. She most likely had access to resources that enabled her to waste this sort of metal on orcs. The feathers were raven, nothing new about that. He'd have chosen plain arrows that every Fletcher sold. Simpler that way. Deniable, too. She could speak in riddles, which was good, and seemed to know a few of the proverbs concerning the Harvester of Mortals.
Means she was at least somewhat educated and could speak another language. Good.
Then there was Cord, a shy elvish woman, and her mate, a human male called Devarian. Both appeared not to be a thread, so he made friendly.
There also was Elyees, stubborn, howling like a wolf and not at all shy to show her body around. A follower of Folian. Sharyn was a human-elf woman. Good in a fight, using blade and shield. Showed no hostility or attempt to betray him for trues, which was good.
Those were the notable people he had met. There were others as well, names to be remembered, motivations to be understood. No imminent thread emerged, however. So he could see to gaining more coins, and trade those for valuable goods: potions, bandages, weapons, armor. There were enough bandits that he could rob, and enough small tasks for the likes of him. He tried to keep a low profile, which was not so easy here. For now, it should work if he made sure the places he slept in were secure and changed his clothes regularly. Do something with his hair, as well. A helm, or a hood would be good, in case things went dicey.
And that is why he made his way to Hempstead, looking for employment...
629
« on: September 02, 2012, 06:31:05 pm »
Events during the "Destroyer's Curse" as well as a recent discussions, events and the travelling habits of parties made me wonder about border customs, border patrols, laws and so on. While it is quite well represented that there are dangerous things in the wilder parts of the world and about those it is rather unproblematic to RP - encountering a creature not everybody in the group has seen before or encountering enemies that somebody has a grudge against or a phobia of.
What I usually find more difficult to portray is the crossing of borders and moving around in areas/lands that are a bit more civilised than the wilderness an average adventurer seems to find caves, monsters and treasures in.
While it is quite simple to let a character react appropriately to certain forms of border customs/control - be that the border is closed down or it simply takes longer until the border is crossed, usually if there is some change, it is mentioned within "Rumour has it ... "
But what about the rest of the borders and lands, factors that influence traveling as much as big scary monsters that roam the wilderness? Should I just apply "common sense" when there is no GM around, or are there guidelines that I could, should, or have to use - so that when a GM is around, I'm not caught cold in the water (and there's no time, because six people demand attention at once with their actions)?
To make an example, I'd like to give my view on how [lore]Aden Delaveth[/lore] would go about crossing various borders or enter various places.
First Example: Port Hempstead
Being a member of the Angel's Guild, Aden is around Port Hempstead rather often for Guild buisness. Which means that he most likely has already talked and dealt with most of the guards at the Gate he uses and, while being controlled, they let him pass most of the time unless he has something or somebody with him he should not. But if it is just a crate of cotton, some topaz etc he is transporting for the Guild or a customer, he pays the fees, does the paperwork (most likely reduced by any paper work from the Guild, be that some sort of license or whatever) and is in Port Hempstead to go about his merry crafting buisness.
Second Example: Stone
For curiosity and an invitation for pecan pie made by Galathea, Aden wants to travel to Stone. Things are a bit more complicated since he is a free elf in a land where they aren't welcome at all. If he is travelling alone and without a heavy backpack, it should not be too hard to cross the border into Sun for Aden - he can sneak pretty well, and he can inform himself about some things that go on in the Kingdom in the Crest Hills. If he avoids towns, shepards, patrols with dogs and - depending on the True Sight issue - mages and so forth, he should be able to reach Stone eventually. Sure, it takes time to cross those spots that nobody wants to go, it takes time to lay low and bellycrawl, to chose paths that hide one's silhouette against the sky, it takes observations on the paths of the people that cross the land and even the animals. But given that Layonara is a low magic world, there should not be a mage or sorcerer with an animal companion for every square kilometer of land in the Sun Kingdom. Travelling to Sun Castle or anywhere to more interesting points is, however, a totally different issue to the point where any travels there should be human only. It should not be easy to reach and leave Stone undetected and unbetrayed, but it should be possible for Aden, keeping in mind that this is what he is about and how much experience he already has.
Is that a good approach for this issue? If so, is there a rule of thumb that could be used as orientation? Or should I as a player just keep away from areas that are labeled "Your race/class/religion isn't welcome here" when there is no GM around instead of seeing if my character has sufficient skill in evading controls and such (Argumentation: "If I can sneak past monster xyz without being seen, and hoping that they don't have a spellweaver with true sight every threehundred meters, I can go there - carefully and quietly.")? There are some places where that is true, but those have been mentioned in the rumour section or the thread dealing with the aftermath of the Cult War. I am not certain if there is a list with areas that are restricted to travel (for certain races/classes/religions/colors/etc, GM guidance needed - and not needed, depending).
630
« on: August 24, 2012, 08:10:22 pm »
*A note is posted to various craft halls*
I am looking for adventurers and miners that are heading to mine iron or are selling iron nuggets. Please contact me if such a mining trip is planned, or you are willing to part with some of your iron nuggets.
~William Leox, Paladin of Toran
631
« on: August 24, 2012, 08:06:04 pm »
*A parchment is posted to the boards of the craft halls in Hempstead, Center, Mariner's Hold*
I am looking for 30 branches of mahogany, paying 200 Trues each with payment on delivery. Delivery in smaller amounts acceptable. Contact me if interested.
~Aden Delaveth
632
« on: August 23, 2012, 07:46:09 am »
I was looking for the time it takes to deliver a letter or message from one point to another, but my search hasn't turned up anything. Is there any information available on how much distance a letter/packet can travel per day with various methods (courier on horseback, bird, ...)?
633
« on: April 12, 2012, 04:48:53 am »
634
« on: December 30, 2011, 06:11:38 pm »
A young elf was brought into the infirmary of the temple of Lucinda after being drawn back to the bindstone to the Star's Mage there.
Shortly after, the room he had been in for rest and healing was sealed of. Rumor has it that something twisted and weird too place in there(Kae scratched a more or less cryptic message into the walls) and that the young elf disappeared into thin air.
//PM me if you wish to inquire about this.
635
« on: October 23, 2011, 09:21:52 am »
[SIZE=16]Selling[/SIZE]
1x Box of purple mushrooms
14 Crystal Rods of the First Grade
[SIZE=16]Buying[/SIZE]
Copper, Bronze and Iron Ingots
[SIZE=16]Providing[/SIZE]
Crafting and gathering services for the fine residents of the Silver Buckle Inn. Contact me.
~A
636
« on: October 23, 2011, 06:35:02 am »
Greetings
After recent events in Llast, I wondered about the funeral rites of the Toranites. Is there any information on that in official lore that I need to keep in mind or can I just be creative?
My perception was that - after a vigil at the Al'Noth fueled pyre - the ash is placed in an urn which is then sealed up and either placed in a burial field or a small alcove in a wall which is then in turn sealed up. The reasoning behind that would be to minimize the chance that somebody tries to create undead servants with the bodies of dead faithful or use other necromantic techniques.
637
« on: September 21, 2011, 04:17:41 pm »
Kaelan's Notebook is a small, vaguely pocket-sized, sturdy book meant for traveling notes. The pages are irregular cut and appear to be of cheap quality. It seems that it is possible to simply replace all pages inside the book instead of buying a new book if there is no more free space left on the pages.
The writing is small, very small, but still easy to read.
Entry 1
Thirday, Seventh Moon 25, 1487
Tower Academy, Port Hempstead
Trouble on way to Hempstead, Center under orc attack. Met Sir Doesscha, but did not have the time to talk to him, he was busy.
Got accepted into the Tower Academy, my teacher will be Elohanna. Should I consider myself happy now?
I have a place in the dorm, need to ward my things. Went shopping with Elohanna and her friend Zira. Latter nice, Ilsare. Talks a lot. Cute.
Have to work for the Angel's Guild and Elohanna now to pay off the debt. Should collect raw materials for them.
Met a fellow student by the name of Breanna. Looks cute, but did not get to talk as Tess interrupted. Breanna studies Divination, maybe she could show me a thing or two.
Saw a shifty figure near Hempstead when I returned at night. Possibly elf, one of those fellows that dress themselves in black. Did not report him.
638
« on: August 29, 2011, 04:07:23 pm »
In front of you is William's journal. Its cover shows the ankh and nothing more. On the first page William wrote his name in simple, easy-to read letters, a style he continues for the first few entries. They seem to be made daily, some are short, others are more detailed. Between the pages there are some loose parchments on which various things are written.
Entry 1
I was asked by Lady Daniella to write a personal journal during the time I am here; and that I should write about what was on my mind.
It is late already as I write this, I can see Toran's Light already out on the night sky. I practiced the guards and some basic footwork and swings. It is strange how good the body and the muscles can remember things like that. My tip was unsteady, but I still think grandpa would be proud to see me here. I will ask Mari or Hector to help my practice defending and counterattack if the instructors allow us to. I also need to practice footwork and stances, I feel very clumsy at the moment when holding and maneuvering with the longsword.
Concerning my equipment -- I have everything I need except some bandages and salves I think. Bartholomew Sampson's studded leather armor fits me, but I definitely need to visit an armorer to get myself at least a haubergeon, better yet a hauberk, a pair of gloves and a coif or something similar. I think I could take Sampson's chain armor and simply have it adjusted to my body; I will go and ask Lady Daniella or Sir Lance about that when the time comes. A heavy longsword waster would be nice so I could train with a weapon about the weight of the sword I would use in combat. If that is not possible, I will continue to train -- in full armor preferably - with a wooden longsword daily until I catch up with the rest of the students.
I am currently the youngest of the students, all others are at least two years older than me. Shorty after I arrived, we were told to resolve a fight between two farmers over a cow. Lady Jillian was to have an eye on us and asked us who wanted to be the leader. I was to step forward as I was told that I should do it and I accepted.
We switched through the leader position as Lady Jillian told us, and I have to note that while she took good care of us, she was the leader and not one of us students. While I do accept that each of us has to have the opportunity to be the leader, how can we do so when we are whispered to, interrupted, and our leadership?
How can I talk and try to help someone as the leader of a group, if my group interrupts my conversation with said person? I understand that a leader will always have people behind him that tell her or him what would be better or not, is stared at from behind and disagreed with.
Next time, I will just tell them to be silent when I have a conversation as a leader. That side-talk is for the time before and after such situations, just like planning is when building a house. One does not start discussing when cutting the wood. One does the work and occasionally step together and plan if the situation changes.
But how could the farmer believe my words, how can I get through to him when so much people, older people talk at him at once? Isn't that pushing somebody around? Intimidating? More of an interrogation than a conversation?
If I was the leader, how then can I make that visible to the farmer? I tried, but I failed. I was the youngest, the most inexperienced and all the experienced people did the talk over my head. I have no problem with that, it's alright to do that, but then I am not to be picked the leader. Let my watch, learn and stuff. Solve the little problems. Talk to people. Do the work that nobody wants to do, but must be done.
When I opened my mouth, I was always interrupting somebody else or undermining her or his authority. I wanted to say something at the end, when the two brothers finally talked with each other. I wanted to say something when Jett shouted at Mari. But how can I without undermining Lady Jillian's authority? And I can understand that all of us want to prove themselves. I do to -- but that's not what counts. At the end of the day, it's not about who was the best fighter or who resolved family issues. In the end, it's about the food in the people's bellies and if their kids have a warm, dry home and a future. We have to make things work. And it is us, the students, that have to do so. We have to learn it. We might get hurt, even have arguments, rivalries -- deep inside, we are humans, not gods. But we cannot behave like a bunch of schoolkids when we're out there. Out there, we're wearing the ankh for all open to see, and we have to live up to the standard's of the Great Leader the best of our possibility and beyond that. How can we do that when we don't don't act like one and have conflicting leadership?
The next time if asked, I will decline the leadership until ordered to take it. I am of much more use if I do some actual work instead of trying to wrap my head around how I can position myself as a leader. I really rather try to make people regain their hope, no matter if they follow Katia or the Longstrider or Toran. If they need a light, I have a small one that I am willing to give. I have two hands that can build, repair things and maybe calm, soothe, heal. I have two eyes that can watch, observe and help me to find fragments of the truth. I have my body that I can put between those that need help and the danger. I have Toran's teachings in my head, my thoughts trying to understand what he means and why. Toran is with me in my heart and mind, so I can be with other people in their hearts and minds. It is hard work that solves problems, even if it is a dulling one. As long as I can see the purpose of the work I am doing, can see a few more happy glints in someone's eyes every day I can ignore the pain in my wrists and my back. We can fight back the orcs in the hills and gain glory. But we also can build a house for generations to live in, with a small garden in front and a barn in the back. We can teach them how to thread their land not with abuse but love so that it won't strike back. We can plant the seed of hope, compassion and truth in people's hearts, one after another. We must do so and protect the seeds. In this, there is much more glory than spilling blood, although it does not shines as much. I carry Toran's light in my heart. It's a small one, but I rather hold it up for those that are lost in the darkness, protecting them and guiding them and giving them a small light to hold too -- a small light might not be noticed alone, it might not be heroic, but an ocean of small lights will make the people look up and smile with childish astonishment, make them smile and see the compassion and justice of Toran. Justice and mercy being with love in the heart and the willingness to hold up ones light to help out the others. No matter how bright a single light is, it never can push the darkness back alone.
I will stay here and help these people, no matter what Hector or the other think of me. I can do some carpentry and work hard. If Misha's baby comes, I will ask my mother to send me a few things to help. I still know a few things from when Mara was born and the time afterwards, and I hope I can give Mari a hand with those things.
Let there be light.
~William
Remembering Granddad
The hauberk was much too large for him, the padded tunic he wore underneath wet from his sweat. The muscles in his arms screamed, burned so much that the only thing he managed was an improper fools guard.
"Keep your tip steady...keep it steady, boy!"
Granddad circled him, slowly, the tip of his longsword pointing at him. Now what?
Granddad didn't fight fairly. He was better. So how to win this without breaking the rules himself?
"Come on, you cannot win this, boy! Give up!"
Pa made a step forwards, provoking him to a counterattack. Will made a step back and to the left, bringing more distance between him and the tip of Granddad's sword.
He felt that even his eyes were tired and followed the movements too slow.
Fool against Plow.
Stupid!
Granddad made a feint and attacked with a trust.
Will throw himself out of the danger and towards his Granddad, losing the grip of his sword before crashing into the old man.
Both fighters fell to the ground, and the guard of granddad's sword hit Will above the left eye.
Granddad laughed.
"Very good! We should start to work on your instincts!"
He brushed the coif of his grandson's head and ruffled his hair before helping him up.
"Pa?"
"Hold still."
The alcohol burned in the wounds as Granddad disinfected them. A few scratches and injuries from wooden splinters. But his knuckles hurt the most.
"Why did you hit me on the hands?"
Pa applied a salve to the boys knuckles.
"Never expect your enemy to fight honorable in combat. Always expect to be attacked. Always be ready to fight to defend yourself or others. Never let your guard down."
The old man winked.
"Apart from when using the fools guard, of course. Learn to steady your tip."
"But Pa, the sword is so heavy!"
"You are heavy, not the blade. Find it's balance with you. Now come. We need to prepare dinner."
"Yes Pa."
He washed the dirt from a few small carrots and cut them into pieces.
"Pa? Why should I always be ready to defend myself and others from mean people? I mean, why are the people mean?"
The old man raised his head and looked out of the window for a small moment. The streets were getting dark slowly. He looked at his grandson.
"Most people are mean because they think that is the only way to survive. Those you can teach and show Toran's compassion and help them out of the dark with his light. And then there is the darkness that cannot be healed, Will. If you ever should encounter that, be careful -- and let the Leader's light be your weapon to defeat it."
The boy nodded.
"But doesn't make that me a mean person to them?"
The old cleric frowned. "Yes, it does." He smiled and ruffled to boy's hair. "But don't be afraid -- that is not the same mean as their mean. Toran will lead you, and by his teachings you will be able to separate. Always carry his light in your heart, and always hold it up. Don't make a fuss about it, just hold it up so you are a light for other people so they can see his mercy and hope."
The boy nodded, stood on his toes and glanced into the pot with the boiling stew.
639
« on: August 23, 2011, 12:02:40 pm »
Description: Prices for basic ammunitions (bolts, arrows, copper darts, copper shuriken, copper bullets) are shown to have a price of "0 True" when mouse-over at the ranged arms dealer in Center. If bought, the ammunition still costs 1 True. If sold to a pawn-shop, they are shown as 0 True and cannot be sold (basic stacks of 99 for arrows/bolts, 25 for shuriken/darts and 50 for bullets). Maybe it's an issue that comes from the fact that ammunition can be stacked to much higher amounts, eg. 500 with arrows in combination with a rounding issue.
Suspected minor relevance.
Location: Center, ranged Arms dealer. Reproduceable elsewhere (Mooneyes reproduced it in a different place).
Verified:
Reproducable: Yes, Item shop issue.
640
« on: August 22, 2011, 07:42:24 am »
The old note has been torn down and replaced by a new one.
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