November 2001

From Austen Andrews, BNN:

Alone on a cliff overlooking the Jukan fortress, Dasha removed her eclectic armor of leather and polished metal. A warm wind ruffled her spotted fur. Obsidian eyes captured the valley before her, watching for a fiery signal.

The sunset at her back transformed the sky into a giant, lavish theater. Yet onlookers from the valley below would not recognize her silhouette among the high, jumbled crags. Neither could she make out individual Juka upon the fortress walls or amid the sea of roofs surrounding it. The only movement inside the city came from waking lanterns. Cook fires smudged the sky with bitter plumes. The evening air rolled around the valley in a mild, temperate breeze, late autumn's denial of the oncoming cold.

The Meer warrior crouched on a smooth-topped boulder, her armor in a neat pile beside her. She did not need it at the moment. No Jukan patrols came this far up the rocky slopes. The only inhabitants of these dry mountains were tribes of gibbering humans, whose crude weapons posed her no threat. Clothed in the wind, she called on the spirits of the exalted ancestors to guide her through this pivotal night. Once the Juka ignited the signal torch below, the trial of two races would begin.

The spirits came to Dasha as a tingle in her belly. The sensation fanned out to her limbs and face, a suffusion of power and tranquility. She welcomed the presence. The ancestors comprised the wisest of the Meer, those elders who had crafted long, fruitful lives and then passed on to a purer state. From their ethereal city of crystal spires they watched the baser realms, aiding young spirits who trod the earth and trees. Dasha was grateful for their help. Though she was an esteemed warrior and officer, her life had spanned less than two hundred solstices. She was still too fleshbound to know enlightenment. If she were to die tonight, her spirit would return in a new Meer body and continue the lessons of material existence. Only with the passage of centuries would she join her exalted ancestors in the holy spires of the afterlife.

Of course, Dasha did not plan to die tonight. She would face the mightiest of Jukan warriors and extract from him an explanation. The Jukan army had destroyed the forest home of the Meer. She would learn why her enemies had betrayed their own traditions of honor. The ancient balance of Juka and Meer depended on the answer.

A new light blinked in the city. Atop a high tower of the stone-walled fortress appeared a single, starlike flame. Dasha's heart quickened. That was the signal. Warlord Kabur had agreed to her proposition. He would arrive within an hour.

Blessed with the guidance of the eternal ancestors, she collected her armor in a satchel and crept off into the twilight.

When Dasha had lived in the old forest, dusk had fallen like long, dark eyelashes. She would miss that restful sight. Here in the mountains the night rolled in like an avalanche of shadows, swallowing up boulders and scrub. She slid without a sound through the labyrinthine gloom. Her destination was a cave pressed between two jagged rocks, where the calm breeze whistled. In the ground before the cave opening she stuck a crossbow quarrel. Then she walked into the cool, black entrance and began to don her gear. As she did so, she reviewed her knowledge of the enemy she had fought for a century.

The Juka were a brutal race, hard of flesh and hard of will. Though sophisticated in their skills and culture, they hungered most of all to enjoy life's infinite sensations. This sublime urge for pleasure was crowned by a roaring lust for combat. The Jukan clans fought each other with unrelenting fervor. And when a single clan came to dominate the others, the united Juka would turn their aggression toward the neighboring society of the Meer. The wars between the two races echoed through legend and history.

Yet unlike the Meer, the Juka did not enjoy the privilege of reincarnation. These jade-skinned warriors passed through the world only once, bound for the Great Hall of Honor if they died with distinction, bound for oblivion if they died in disgrace. And so the Juka absorbed themselves in the pursuit of glory and honor. At the core of their society lay a tradition of unshakable virtues, of courage and honesty and respect for one's enemy. Their souls depended on strict adherence to this code. The Juka called it the Way, as if there were no other.

The Jukan army had trampled the Way when they burned the Meer forest to the ground. Their mysterious new lord, the strangely-named Exodus, had commanded them to do so. But Dasha knew the Juka could neither be persuaded nor coerced into dishonor. Foul sorcery alone could account for the drastic change. She intended to confirm her suspicion by speaking to Warlord Kabur himself. Only with this knowledge could the Meer proceed with their just revenge.

Thankfully the ancestors brought calm to Dasha's mind, for her blood burned to meet the general who had destroyed her people's ancient home.

From inside, the cave mouth was a slash of fading colors. The light vanished when an enormous shape filled the gap. Dasha flinched. A deep voice boomed, "I should not be surprised by this gesture of yours. Single combat is the only hope you have left for victory."

Warlord Kabur brought a lantern into the cave. His other hand clutched the crossbow quarrel. It looked small in his grip. Kabur was a giant of a warrior even among his strapping race. Robust armor of steel and gold padding accentuated his size. Like all Juka he seemed dour to her, with no nose, reptilian eyes and a small, hard mouth. But Kabur's face revealed something more, a cunning that sharpened his glance. She felt compelled to match his stare with her own.

"Yet you have come to meet me," she said, "according to the ritual of the Black Duel. I challenge you to explain your dishonorable conduct, and to atone for it."

The general grunted, "I did receive the note and silk scarf you left me. You know much of the customs of the Juka."

"I have fought your kind since before your grandfather was born. I know that the Juka have always honored the Way. And I knew that you would respect the Black Duel and meet me in secret."

Kabur's emerald lips twisted into a smirk. "I have razed the forest of yours and you still imagine that I am bound to the old codes?"

"Your grandfather and father respected duels of honor. The reputation of your clan instructs you to do the same."

"I am forging a new reputation. Victory beckons me now."

He stepped deeper inside the tall cave and away from the narrow entrance. Dasha heard the clatter of footsteps outside. She hardened her eyes. "Your soldiers will die if they interrupt us."

"There is no Black Duel to interrupt. I have come to bring you before Exodus. Much has changed among the clans, though I would not expect a Meer to understand."

And she knew then that her life was in danger. Kabur had abandoned the Way. He had accepted the challenge of single combat as a ruse to capture her. An instant later the cave filled with sound as a stream of Jukan soldiers intruded. The tips of their spears flashed in the light of Kabur's lantern.

Naturally she had accounted for such a betrayal. Without hesitation she leapt among her attackers.

Like all Meer warriors, her skill with weaponless combat overmatched the Jukas' clumsy polearms. She moved like mist around and between them, striking at the joints of their leathery bodies, crushing steel plates against veins and bones so that their own armor became a weapon against them. When the soldiers clustered together, she scattered them with quick spells that flashed away the shadows. In seconds their bodies strewed the rocky ground.

More soldiers shouted outside. Dasha caught her breath. She could not defeat an entire army, but her objective was now at hand. No Juka blocked the way to Warlord Kabur. She sprang at the giant warrior. He bellowed in response and whirled a fallen soldier's halberd in her path. She ducked its lethal blade, then latched a grip on the weapon's long haft. With a lightning move she dropped to the ground and threw Kabur deeper into the cave.

He vanished the instant he passed over a blink rune that Dasha had inscribed on the cave floor.

She followed quickly. The magic spell wrapped her in light. She appeared inside another cave, deeper within the mountain. With her boot she erased the matching rune underfoot, to prevent other Juka from coming through. Then she rose to her full, proud height, facing the startled warlord who was regaining his bearings.

They stood inside a ring of candles that defined a dueling space. A vast, dark cavern hovered around them. In the dense stillness of the underworld Dasha crossed her arms and murmured, "I invoked the Black Duel so we might talk unhindered. I intend for us to do so whether you spurn me or not."

The fluttering candlelight revealed fury in the Juka's eyes. He snapped two fists around the shaft of his halberd. "If you wanted to persuade me to fight, then you have succeeded, Dasha. By the Great Mother, I shall cut you down like I did the forest of the Meer!"

Like a storm he roared upon her with a series of attacks she did not recognize. She was forced to somersault backwards to evade the strokes of his blade. Then he prepared another charge. For a brief moment Dasha wondered if she might not have misjudged Warlord Kabur again. The exalted ancestors remained inside her, but even they had not encountered a dishonorable Juka before. Could ancient wisdom overcome this strange, black renaissance of the Jukan enemy?

Dasha grumbled to herself, Fight first, then interrogate. If he would rather die than explain his misdeeds, it shall not pain me to oblige him! And she charged as furiously as the hulking warlord himself, her eyes ablaze with a lust for revenge.

From Aryn Orthnin:

He sat across the smooth granite table from the rust-colored gargoyle, who spoke mostly in infinitives when he did speak the langauge he knew.. even though he'd picked up some on the Gargoyle dialect, it was nowhere near complete to carry on a full conversation.. The more he spent amongst them, the more he talked, and acted like them.. and grew fond of some his new friends, and teachers.. "So in reality, all of the gre..-- great codex is held by the ruling concept of three?" He asked.. The wise gargoyle nodded his head, replying "Infinity is the wingless one's life belief, Singularity be the way of life here, and Equality be that which none know true of.." Aryn nodded his head quietly as he thought back to the lessons.. the mantras in his head rolling over.. Control.. Passion.. Diligence.. Singularity.. One would normally spit at these, for their representatives were none other than Mondain, Minax, and supposedly Exodus. But he looked past what they represented.. and instead looked at both haves of the puzzle.. Passion to Love .. Truth to Control.. Courage of Diligence.. He chuckled to himself.. odd how seemingly so opposite cultures could hold such similar values.. With a smile and good regard to the Master, he soon left Ver Rel Nog, but still came back to visit the shrines.. Direction.. Balance.. Precision.. And perhaps, the one in all.. Order itself.. One more visit, he thought.. with all the odds stacked against them, perhaps the wicked would taste the wrath of both Gargoyle and Human alike..

Hail!

Welcome to this weeks edition of the Thursday Development Update. Todays update is really a "double" update because of the Holiday last week.. so, lets get on with the show!

The Biggest Story this week is the advent of Publish 14, which added a bizillion faction fixes, Bulk Order Deeds, and dynamic menu systems for crafts.

Many people were looking forward to publish 14, but it wasnt properly sent through Quality Control, and so there are no less than a dozen bugs associated with it. Some of the more annoying bugs are:

- When an animal goes wild, it cannot be retamed unless you have the appropriate taming skill.
- Runebooks have a habit of randomly disappearing
- Some holiday rares have been renamed, switching to their default names. (Snowglobes returning to "a crystal ball", etc)
- Reagents and Arrows/Bolts are sometimes consumed 3 times faster (3 regs/arrows per shot/casting)
- Alchemists can no longer create potions directly into kegs

And if this wasn't the worst of it, publish 14 has opened up a new Duping bug.. which is a bug where players can duplicate items in their backpacks. It becomes a real hazard when they duplicate castle deeds and 1 mil checks.

Economists are recommending that you sink your money into real-estate or Rares as soon as possible, and only convert back to gold when you want to make a major purchase.

Publish 14 also contained some updates which weren't officially announced:

- Haven has gotten a major facelift
- Moongates will take young players to haven
- Skeletons spawning between Vesper and Minoc.. why? noone knows
- There are odd prisoner cages throughout the realm, most notably smack dab in the front of the entrance to covetous. These are not part of the next scenario, according to Calandryll.

Calandryll, UO's resident fiction guy has been on vacation this week, and so scenario updates and fiction updates have been nonexistant.

So far, little is known about Publish 15, but here is what we know so far:

- Horse Stamina is likely to be introduced
- Several of the afore mentioned bugs are supposed to be fixed

Talk on the UO boards this week was mainly about Statloss, to which it was stated clearly that statloss is not going away anytime soon. Player response to publish 14 has been mixed, players are excitied about new changes to UO, they just wish they were changes they had asked for. the bugs in Publish 14 helped turn it into a decidedly mediocre update, despite all of the changes it introduced.

Not much in the way of UO: LBR updates this week, there were 2 new downloads added to the downloads section at http://www.uolbr.com the new music met with bland reviews by players.

In other news, Players have almost completely forgotten about Veteran Rewards, the Guaranteed Gains Ssytem, and the Virtue system.

And the weirdest player idea of the week: Paying for your UO account with UO gold. Certainly a money sink, the idea is so odd that it is strangely compelling.

Thats it for this week (two weeks actually) Thanks for reading the Herald, and tune in next week for another Development Update!

From Raticker:

Raticker was used to being alone in the Temple. The various wars and land disputes have become common place, but the blackened tower still needed cleaning. While sweeping out the lower levels, and pitching the blood pales from the torture chambers, the small pigeon bell rings. Heaving his tight slender body up from the floor, Rat makes his way towards his bed chambers to investigate. "Probably more complaining...." he mutters to himself.

The pigeon was half dead and carried a strange color for its holder. In fact, it seems the bird was off course and simply landed at the nearest nest it could find. The bird was worthless so Raticker took the note, broke the bird's neck and tossed the carcass into the Orc Stew. "That outta make it taste better." he chuckled to himself. Unfolding the note it became clear someone was in need of help!

Scribbled across a piece of paper, a plea for assistance is made of any who finds the note: "Please help me! I have been taken by two Demons and thrown into the Pit of Doom. I have no way out and pray my last bird makes it thru to safety." Raticker found this note interesting and began investigating with the different chemicals in the Temple to determine where the note could have originated. The scroll holder itself was of Upper Class design and the paper was treated with elements to protect it from rain and cold. "Interesting....."

Finding this a point of interest in light of all the goings on, Raticker sends several pigeons to different Guild Leaders to determine if anyone in the community is missing. After several hours, a reply is sent. Carrie Brie is missing and her relatives and friends are deeply concerned. A plea was made to the Cult of the Black Dragon for assitance, however as Raticker knew they would not be able to figure this one out on their own, he offered his supreme analytical skill to aid in the Rescue Operation.

After meeting with the wise and enchanting Eowen, it was determined a rescue would take place on Friday Nov 30 at 7pm central time. Those wishing to help in the operation should report either to The Temple of Mondain or go directly to the Evil city located in Felucca. Eowen pointed out there may be some folks to be picked up in Trammel. It has been agreed gates will be provided to the city of The Phoenix Rising in Tram at the House of the Sister's of Enchantment. All Trammelites should meet there between 7:00 and 7:15 central time.

Returning to the Temple, Raticker began to prepare recipes for his Orc Soup. This rescue will be perfect to help enhance skills of those needing to practice and a reward of 10k gold plus the loot will be divided amoungst those brave souls will to help A Damsel in Distress!

From RaDian:

Just a quick note, we're moving the trial from Friday the 30th to Monday, December 3 at 8:00pm CST so that all sides have a few more days to prepare for the event.

From the Journal of Tre'Lianne
Monitor of Dracona
http://www.alterythem.com/cad
Ven'Vytec, Year of the Clockwork Beasts


Tre'Lianne looked around the mountain and smiled as the cool spray of water cooled her in the warm Ilshenarian sun. "I see why ya came here, doll."

Ra'Dian chuckled. "Aye, tis a beautiful view, though the travel through hell I could do wi'out." He sat down on the ledge of a pool formed at the base of one of the falls. "What brings you here, Tre?"

"The trial. I think Joa'Qyyn would be best suited for the trial. I think it's time ya made him a full magistrate."

"Then it shall be." Tre'Lianne watched as Ra'Dian ran his fingers through the water, staring deep within. "I trust yer judiciary choice."

"Will others?" She sat down next to him and stared at the rippled reflection of his face in the pool below.

His lips moved oddly as waves crossed over from the waterfall. "You wonder if others will think that Dracona would seek revenge on Leshyani for her deceit?"

"The thought has crossed my mind. Surely it will cross others."

Ra'Dian dried his hand upon his white meditation robe, and then rested a hand on her shoulders. He looked up at her, and she stared into his crystal blue eyes. "If I won't let Aryn have his way with her, I certainly wouldn't put her into a court I didnae trust. I have no doubt that the magistrates of the High Court be the only way she will receive an impartial trial."

"Why are we involved?"

"I gave her my promise. I swore to her that I would do all in my power to ensure she receives a fair trial." He siged and looked back to the water. "As much as it pains me to do so, I am one of my word. We both know that left to Britannian courts, her trial would be as much farse as Edguardo's. She would be executed without chance of defense. Ca'Y'vodek Y'devorn."

Tre'Lianne punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Would you stop switching languages in mid sentence?"

He laughed and looked back at her. She couldn't help but smile at the impish look resting upon his face. "My word is my bond. It means..."

"I know what that means, you blasted elf!" She got up and prepared to head back to Dracona. "Hopefully the rest of Sosaria understands."

"Little can be done but to show we can remain impartial even in the face of great strain." Ra'Dian stood, and they walked back to the entrance. "At least this way anyone who wish speak on her behalf may do so. Imagine if Ramirez entered a Britannian court."

Tre'Lianne bowed towards Ra'Dian and turned to walk away.

"Even the Mondainites. I know of Mordain's fancy for her. I expect he will want to hae his say as well."

Tre cast a quick glance behind at the elf, his long blue hair flowing freely. "I don't know about you sometimes. I know you mean to be fair though."

"It is the only way, Tre'Lianne. Justice can only be achieved in balance. If one side weighs down the other on silence alone, you only mock justice."

"Be well, Rad. We all hope you return soon."

She watched as he entered back into his retreat, his voice echoing even above the noise of the falls. "On'ac an'rhy'ut vakorak talf'duc."

Tre'Lianne hefter her battle axe and let out a low groan, rolling her eyes at his insisted use of the Dragothan tongue. As she started into the mountain, she softly muttered, "Elves..."

"Milord, I have more news of Leshyani for you." Raticker began as he stepped into the main chamber of the great temple. Standing up from his throne Mordain looked at Raticker with a look of curiosity "And what is this news you speak of?" Glancing back with an odd smile "Leshyani is supposed to be put on trial by the Dracona this friday." Mordain glancing back looking very unammused at Raticker "What is it you find strangely amusing then Raticker." Raticker again with an odd smile looked at Mordain "Milord they are claiming they will have a fair trial." Mordain smirked "Fair trial? The same group who planned, initiated and failed to save Edguardo? The ones who took his death the hardest of all the others now speaks of a fair trial for Leshyani the one tie for their own personal revenge? This seems a bit odd to me." Raticker interrupted "Milord one thing though, they are allowing the Empire to give her personal council." Mordain became quiet for a minute then began again "Did they say who would be her council?" "No Milord they did not but I will find out for you." Raticker replied "Very well, report to me when you have found out, this trial doesn't feel right and I can only imagine what kind of "Fair" trial Leshyani will receive." Mordain looked at Raticker with a slight nod and Raticker left the great chamber.
-Mordain
Prophet of Mondain

NOTICE OF TRIAL
From Tre'Lianne, Monitor of Dracona

Leshyani Rianne is to stand trial at the High Court of Dracona to face charges to be brought against her by the Royal Knights of Redemption on behalf of the Crown and Peoples of Britannia. The charges she faces are as follows: Rebellion against the Crown; Inciting rebellion against the Crown; Illegal use of magic against the citizens of Britannia, specifically for enchantment, charm, and befuddlement; Withholding information that led to the death of a Dragon Knight.

She is to stand trial held by an impartial magistrate at the High Court to ensure that she receives a fair and impartial trial, and, if found guilty, fair punishment. In accordance with our laws, we wish to convey a message from Leshyani to the Empire of Armageddon. She requests that the Empire send Counsel to speak with her and on her behalf, and that she misses them. We have also granted her request that she will be able to speak with one of the Sisters of Enchantment, but we must ensure that there is no chance for her to escape, and so we will make arrangements for such a meeting in the very near future.

The trial will take place in the High Court of Dracona (located southeast of the Tower of Three Dragons healer room, at the Crossroads betwixt Yew, Britain, and Minoc - a map will be made available soon to those who are not familiar with the location) upon Al'Xac, during the Year of the Clockwork Beasts (Friday, November 30, 2001 at 9:00pm CST). All who wish to speak against Leshyani or upon her behalf will be afforded the chance to do so. If you wish to speak in person, simply appear at the court starting at 8:00pm CST, and no later than 8:50pm CST upon the day of the trial and register with the Courtroom Clerk. We will allow those of any allegiance to attend these hearings. As the City-State of Dracona is independent from the rule of both the Crown and the Empire, we hold this trial as Neutral Ground and will look harshly upon any violence or attack.

If you cannot attend the trial, you may contact the court (via email at cad@alterythem.com) to arrange for a written affidavit to be read into the Courtroom Record upon the day of the trial.

Fyrm'vodek ca'cylos, Traskin'ut sym'ood.

The wind began to blow faster and the rain began to fall harder and
harder. A sound of footsteps could be heard, first quiet then loud as
they reached the door, next the creak of the door and a voice from
behind could be heard. "Milord?" Turning from his window Mordain looked
at Moraelin for a brief second then looked back out his window at the
falling rain. "Do you know how long its been?" Mordain asked. "How long
its been till what Milord?" Moraelin replied. "Till the Temple has known
peace? When we could walk in safety without those who follow British and
his forced ideals. When the name of Mondain was revered and known as
knowledge and power not evil and corruption." Moraelin noticing
Mordain's distress looked toward the floor. "No M'lord I don't." Just then
lightning struck and the flicker lit Mordain's face as he turned to
Moraelin with the whole of his eyes black. "Never. We have never known
peace, and until British is exposed for the murder he is we never will
his ideals and virtues will be forced upon the populous and us, forever
trapped by this tyrannical and cynical demon. The best disguise for pure
evil is to hide behind the blanket of virtue and British has done this
well."
Looking out his window again, "What of Leshyani? Have we an idea
where she is or when she will be put on trial?" Moraelin looking at
Mordain with a slight frown, "She is heavily guarded within the tower of
the Holy Cross Defenders and after the execution of Edguardo I can only
assume they will make her stay short lived and take their vengeance out
on her." Looking sharply at Moraelin "That wont happen, She is strong
and so long as I breath I will not allow this to happen." Looking
somewhat surprised Moraelin began "M'lord she is a small part of this
battle and the leader of a guild that may well seek our destruction if
the Empire should seek to begin war with us. Shouldn't we just stay out
of this one and let her die?" Again Mordain looked at Moraelin sharply
this time with an upset and stern face. "NO! When she was young she came
to the temple and I took her under my wing I knew of her great powers
and potential even then. She learned fast and became one of my greatest
pupils. Soon she became not only skilled in the great arcane arts but
also a fighter as well. When It was time for her to go on her own she
stuck to the ways of the arcane and continued to learn and for those
achievements I am proud." Mordain suddenly let out a small smile,
something that he hadn't done in a very long time. Just then Moraelin
realized, Mordain looked upon her as a daughter not just a pupil and
that his drive and devotion to her rescue would be unparalleled
regardless the risks. As Moraelin walked out the door he gave a
sympathetic look to Mordain... "I will double the guilds efforts on this
matter." Mordain nodded and turned to look through his window again...
-Mordain
Prophet of Mondain

From the Journal of NEMESIS ENFORCER
Famis Qalil'Ut, Cult of the Azure Dragons
http://www.alterythem.com/cad
Sep'Norac, Year of the Clockwork Beasts


Nemesis Enforcer let out a light sigh as he sat behind Ra'Dian's desk. As much as he knew that the role of responsibility was now his, it was not a task he had been prepared to take up again. Still, he would do as best he could. "I am ceasing all ties to the Temple of Mondain."

The Monitor of Dracona sat across from him. Her eyes turned upward as she lifted her left eyebrow slightly. Blinking twice, she looked back at the Enforcer. "You do know they expect you to take responsibility for the Cult attacking them at Nujel'm."

"I'll take responsibility for it alright. I have no idea who landed the first blow, the Cult or the Temple, but I do know this much." He picked up Ra'Dian's journal and flung it across the room, the pages flapping briefly before the tome slammed into the wall and dropped harshly to the floor. "I know that it was those traitorous villains who attacked the allies of the Cult first. They speak now of whether or not they were justified, and what they did or did not promise to Ra'Dian, and I will tell you this... it makes little difference to me. They are common criminals. They worship an old, dead, musty corpse with less power than I have in my index finger, and they wouldn't know knowledge if it bit them in their hind quarters. They seek revenge and power. All else is beneath them."

Tre'Lianne pointed to the west. "You know those 'common criminals' live just in the desert yonder. Why not seek vengeance upon them. Why not paint the desert red with their blood."

"Because they are unworthy of our attention. Because attacking them in revenge for Edguardo's death, for their interference, for anything... we would be no better than they. So I choose to sever all ties with them. Let the guardians of Dracona exact justice upon them if they break the laws of the land, but elsewise, they are no longer our concern."

The Enforcer stood and walked past Tre'Lianne. "I go now to deliver the termination of our relations."

"Ra'Dian would be pleased by your decision." Tre'Lianne stood and put a hand upon the Enforcer's shoulder. "He will return someday, you know. He is simply collecting his thoughts."

"I know." The Enforcer smiled. "Elves love solitude to think. He won't be gone for long."

From Aryn:

He galloped hard and fast, his rage burning and unebbing in it's flow.. all the while the same thoughts rolled over in his head.. "Virtue.. just what the hell is it good for if it let's people like the Empire roam free and the good and the just perish like Edguardo.." He sighed again, not noticing a figure swooping near.. "Edguardo.. damnit.. why.. it wasn't supposed to happen this way.. " With the light footfall of claws, however, the stranger made it's presence known, prompting a quick blade drawn from Aryn. "I don't know who or what you are, or what you what.. but I have no time for you, 'friend'" He continued striding on up a mountain pass, alone with his thoughts.. so he would think.. "To know the answers to your questions, wingless one." spoke the winged, crimson-red creature.. Aryn stopped immediately, slowly turning to face the gargoyle, dressed in a odd hybrid of what looked to be armor and .. priest's garb.. "Tell me, gargoyle, what do you know about my answers? Hm? What do you know about virtue, beast?" He spat angrily. The gargoyle's wings folded slightly and rested on his shoulders like a cloak. " To know much of virtue, to have lived by them all my life. To know that they are not the same for you wingless ones." Aryn narrowed his eyes at the gargoyle, his eyes glimmering with white light.. "You test the patience of a man who has very few restraints and few qualms about slayin' thee.." The gargoyle chuckled. "To apologize, to not mean to anger you, but merely to state that the great codex is interpreted in many ways" This produced quite a start in Aryn.. "Many ways?" he wondered.. and he gave the Gargoyle a long look before acceding.. "I will go with you.. and learn.." he spoke.. "To know that you will, Wingless one. To teach you the secret of Singularity.." The Gargoyle smiled and took to the air, guiding Aryn by flight to the city of Ver Lor Reg.. a long pilgrimmage away from the pain of memory.. and of failure.. but perhaps facing rebirth..

*On a dark ominous night, a quarter moon its only light, a warrior on a horse gallops quietly through the forest, becoming one with her stead, her clothes as dark as the sky. She embraces the Black One and courageously slays those that oppose her, her sword flashing too and fro with all her might. In the distance she sees yet another, sheathing her sword she silently draws her bow. Death comes quickly as yet another falls never seeing the face of his killer. * Assigned by Basil to search the docks of Trinsic for Admorel Twilight, Eowen rounded the corner in the Temple, she was startled to see the dark figure. He spoke quietly to her about her assignment and gave her further orders that no one must ever know. Trinisic was rather quiet this night, not an unusual sight since the last war. Eowen made her way to the tavern as the dark figure instructed. She dismounted her steed and tied him to a tree near the door. She entered the tavern and glanced around, she spotted him near the back wall seated at a large table. He glanced up and Eowen gave him a thoughtful smile. He returned her smile and motioned her to the seat beside him. Eowen never the shy one, adding a slightly exaggerated wiggle into her stride, boldly took the seat next to him. She thought to herself, this will be easier then first imagined. All too quickly he was enticed, she was a rare beauty. He never noticed the dagger slip between his ribs into his heart, poison seeping throughout his body, as his lips touched hers. Eowen finished her ale, rested his now lifeless head on the table and walked out the tavern door. Completing her orders from Basil she returned to the keep. This shadowy figure came to her occasionally, always knowing of Basil's orders and adding to them. It eventually became common place to receive additional tasks from the dark figure. He began suggesting "select members" from within the ranks of the cult to assist in these tasks. Dublin was chosen and the task performed was carried out without a problem. The two worked well together sharing thoughts and reactions. The dark figure tested their faith and trust in one another, often times Dublin and Eowen faced tremendous odds. At times barely making it out of an assignment alive, but alive none the less. An indestructible bond formed between the two warriors. Dublin never questioning Eowen on the orders to be carried out, knowing her sister would never fail her. One dark night as they sat talking, he appeared before them. Dublin stared in amazement as she watched the interaction between Eowen and this dark figure. Without a word he led them into a chamber of the temple none had ever seen before. (Perhaps not even Basil). In the chamber stood four shadowy figures in brown hooded robes. Each silently praying in what seemed like a ritual chant. He led the two warriors to an inner circle and stepped back joining the others. Finally the chanting fell silent, and the familiar dark figure raised his stare to the cultists standing in the inner circle. Dublin and Eowen could not help but stare at the deity's eyes as they shined over them with a haunting glow. Captured by the stare, the monks quickly wrestled Eowen and Dublin to their knees with an ancient, long forgotten wrestling maneuver. Each captured in a position with right arms held high, shoulder forward. "You have served me well children. Today you have earned my blessing! Henceforth you shall be known as the Emperor's Dark Hand, This I command! Ramriez has proven he does not have the talents of his father, he has turned his back on me, Therefore you are the chosen." With that red arcs of radiant energy spat out from his hands, arcing around the chamber. The two arcs from each hand meet behind the two and split into an arc, one for each of the cultists that struck them in the upper left of each ones shoulder blade leaving the mark.... ...A soft red glow of a hand etched in black, one that looked of royalty and conquest. The Hand of the Black One. Appointed to do his bidding without question, and without failure. Each felt the branding pain, and the two were released as the arc struck. Before they fell forward to the floor the figures were gone, and the chamber was dark. It was almost like a dream, save for painful sting of the branding. Hard cut warriors such as these normally block out pain, but this would definitely cause wounds to be nursed Surprisingly, they have never flaunted their markings. They know they are the chosen and have purpose, the Black One will be served, That is all that is needed.

Black and red flashes of what comes what may. Sleeping for the somber, sleeping though the day. As you wake as you turn your bond will be torn. From the one that is the half of your magickal books of storms. Hold this true for it’s your birth of fight, for if you don’t you might lose your life. Black and red flashes of what comes what may. To fight the bond to find the bond to be one with the bond cast the spell too scry what may. From the trees that hold it from the sign that is of it too the fallen down of the stones that were laid by the one.....

*wakes up with a cold sweat throwing off the covers, takes a minute too find a candle to light, walks across the dark room and magically light the candle and sits it on the desk, beings to write a letter to anyone that needs to hear it*

Dear friends,
I beg of you not too leave me out of your hearts and minds. But I must leave what I am now, too be what I was. My bond to Leshyani is strong, she is now missing and I have sworn my life to protect her. I do not know the out come of her life force but I know that it is too young for it to fade. I will always have my heart with you all but as you all know blood is family and bonds are unbreakable. Be good to each other and blessed be my friends.

Merry ye meet and merry ye part and merry till we meet again,
Ravenwolf

* rolls the letter up takes the candle and tilts it so that the wax pours onto the letter, picks up the seal and stamps it on to the wax, leaves it laying on the desk of the room she been staying located at the BDA tower with the seal turned up showing in bold the mark of Sisters*

---
In Perfect Love In Perfect Trust
RavenWolf - Vision Sorceress Dread Witch

From the Journal of NEMESIS ENFORCER
Famis Qalil'Ut, Cult of the Azure Dragons
http://www.alterythem.com/cad
Bri'Norac, Year of the Clockwork Beasts


“I am a great fool.”
“Not so great a fool as I, Valerix.”

The Enforcer stood and stared at the blue-haired elf seated behind the granite desk. It had been ages since anyone had last spoken his name... ages since he had last heard his true name spoken in fact. He knew that for it to be spoken now, times of change were upon him. “You are leaving.”

Ra’Dian’s lips curled into a smile. “I’ve never been able to hide much from you, old friend.” He chuckled softly, and then let out a long, slow sigh. “I take responsibility for Edguardo’s death. It was I who ordered you to head for Fire Isle, when all along, my heart knew truly he had never left Nujel’m. And it was I who believed that planted letter found in the Tower of the Three Dragons. It was I who opened a dialogue with Mordain, and it was I who failed the Cult. I have grown old, Val. Old, and forgetful.”

Nemesis wanted to say something to his friend, but he could tell that the High Priest had made his mind. There was little he could say to console him over the death of his friend, and little more he could say to convince him that mistakes happened. That they could only have been at the Isle or in Nujel’m, but not both at the same time. That had the force been split twixt the two locations, the force in Nujel’m would have been repelled by the Empire and the power-mongering Mondainites.

“Tal’Mah’Ra. It is a name likely unfamiliar to you, Valerix, but one that I should not have forgotten. There is no possible way that a letter was written that long ago by Mordain as leader of the Temple when Mordain was but a fledgling acolyte, if part of the Temple at all. The Temple planted that seed to gain our trust, all while seeking re-admittance to the Empire of Armageddon.

“It is funny though, Val.” Ra’Dian’s eyes were focused down on the table, staring at his journal. “I thought the ploy before me was of Leshyani speaking that Mordain hurt his chances at rejoining the Empire by attending her questioning. The facts were all in front of me, and I chose to believe the wrong ones, discounting the true. I could not have made any larger mistake. The daemon temple indeed.”

“Your final orders, my lord?” The Enforcer looked at his friend, and knew that this burden of honor was eating the aged elf.

“Orders, Enforcer?” Ra’Dian looked up, his blue eyes filled with tears. “I have no more orders to give. I am torn between strangling Leshyani with my bare hands and beating Mordain with the handle of my crook until a fine pulp is all that remains of his ‘knowledge-seeking’ mind. I cannot decide whether to gather forces full and strike Nujel’m until not one of the Empire stands, or to simply grab Ramirez, visit Nero, and slam the Arch-Mage’s face into the rotting corpse of his father, pressing it there until he suffocates to death by cause of that which he most desired. I am not fit to give orders.”

“What then of the Cult?”

“That, my friend, is truly now your decision. I once entrusted you with the care of the Cult, and I do so again. I cannot say if or when I shall return, but the future now lies with you.”

“Where do you go?” the Enforcer asked, praying that he would still be able to find the elf at times.

“Ilshenar. There is a peaceful mountain, overlooking several falls. It is quiet, undisturbed. It will give me the time to ponder, to think, to clear my head.” Ra’Dian stood and walked to the far table, opening the small chest upon it.

“Dor’eg-l’nar vi’ert o’nerin Yl’, Ra’Dian Fl’Gith.” The Enforcer saluted the founder of the Cult, and watched as he pulled several reagents from the wooden container.

“O’nerin fa’, Nemesis Enforcer. O’nerin fa’.” The elf ran his fingers through the air in an arcane pattern. “Vas Ter-Mur Rel Por,” he intoned, and a vibrant crimson moongate formed before him. Beyond, Nemesis could see a mountain. As Ra’Dian stepped through, the visage faded.

The Enforcer looked down upon the granite slab of Ra’Dian’s desk... his desk... and saw the charcoal scroll lying there, tucked under the journal. “To your graves, Mondainites. To your graves.”

From Maher-Shalil-baaz:

A cool breeze blew through the city of Serpent's Hold, ruffling the hair of my lord Aryn and chilling me in the process. The coming battle would be swift, I thought to myself. Unfortunately for the force gathered in Serpent's Hold, I would be proved correct.

My lord Aryn and fellow Zealot Andromeda sat discussing strategy whilst I straightened my armor and tended my horse. He was nervous, as were most in the crowd. Most of the Royal Knights of Redemption's allies had sent conscripts in the event that the noble EdGuardo could not be rescued from the Empire of Armageddon by diplomatic means. Most suspected that diplomacy was not going to save him, or anyone, this evening.

Two boats arrived, and we boarded them. After a long journey to fire isle, we disembarked and waited. Sending scouts ahead to the temple and to the shrine, there was little sign of activity other than that of drakes and daemons.

It was then that word was received from one of our CAD allies that he had received a pigeon. EdGuardo was to be executed in Nujel'm!

We arrived in Nujel'm via magical means, just to see our friend and patriot EdGuardo laying, slain, at the foot of the gallows. We were aghast.

Little else was said that day. Only the sounds of death and the laughter of the Empire could be heard. I slew many that day, and saw each of my companions slain. I saw my lord Aryn die and screamed, only to then look into the faces of the three drow that shortly drove me from this world...

You know, the Holidays are always a pretty cool time. Who dosen't liek getting free stuff? And who dosen't like eating turkey? Each year, around this time.. just before thanksgiving, my grandmother always begins decorating for christmas. You know, Candles, those green and red M and M's.. oodles of those 3 flavored popcorn buckets (I love the cheesy ones)

Well, if its good enough for my grandmother, its good enough for me, by golly! So enjoy the Heralds new festive look until after christmas.

P.S. Santa, if youre out there on the north pole running a traceroute to GL and reading this, bring me a playstation 2!

From Mordain:

As the time for his execution drew closer the members of the Temple of Mondain gathered at the great square in NuJelm in front of the jails. With content and grins on their faces they watched as Edguardo was carried out to a raised platform to which would be his last place to stand, knowing that his face and the faces of those whom he had attacked and committed crimes against would be the last thing he saw before his transition. Where was his "Lord" British now? In his next life would he get to see him? Stand before him and make excuses why he was not saved? No.... Instead he will see the deathly pits of hell to which his true lord really stood for, domination, death and control. British has murdered and stole what was rightfully Mondain's and the death of Edguardo would hardly be retribution for the years of suffering and war that those in the temple had gone through however it is in the right direction.
As the arrows flew into the heart of Edguardo he gave out a burstful laugh that echoed throughout the square and his face was an unchanging devotion to the "lord" he served for so long. However disturbing this was, justice was served with his last breath taken and his body slumping to the ground.
What now? What is the next step? A voice from behind Mordain asked. "We wait and prepare, it is time to assure our survival and restore the rightful claim of this land to Mondain, to seek his wisdom in the arcane and to practice the knowledge he has taught us through the years, and to find a city of our own, where we belong. Just then a loud rumble could be heard and shouts from those in attendance. "TO ARMS! Order of the Silver Serpent and its allies have arrived!" a voice yelled out. Upon hearing this Mordain gave the order to form up and attack. The battle was long and for the first time in many months the Empire and the Temple fought side by side, but this was not for an alliance or for a friendship, this was for survival and justice. After long the bodies and injuries took their toll on the forces of british and they were destroyed but only have casualties of our own. When the battle was over Mordain gave the withdrawal command from the battle field as there were no more enemies to purge. A gate of blue glow was opened and the members of the ancient temple filed through it silently without uttering a sound. Slipping one by one through the magic gate they disappeared from view and returned the their stronghold.

From BNN correspondant Austen Andrews:

Time tramples greatness to rubble and dust, but glory is never forgotten. Elder winds sing of the past to those calm enough to listen. -- Meer proverb

Dasha lounged on a tree limb and smiled as the black army marched toward her. A small crossbow rested nearby, but she had not bothered to load it. She knew the forest would shield her from harm. So it had done for a hundred years, and so it would continue to do.

Sunrise crowned the ridge of the valley and the black army poured down the slopes as if a dam had burst. Helmets and speartips glinted in the dawn. The air shook with the stomp of countless armored boots. Yet the tall, tangled forest on the valley floor halted their advance like a cliff holding back the sea. So thickly woven was the barrier of trees that military formations dissolved into single-file columns. Streams of men and weapons vanished in the dark lace of the forest's interior.

Hidden near the edge of the treeline, Dasha sat up and crossed her legs under the stout branch that supported her. A veil of sunshine draped across her cheek. She smiled at the warmth. Coppery light glistened on her fine coat of fur, dappled with delicate spots in contrast to her long, athletic physique. For a young Meer woman, Dasha looked uniquely dangerous. She wore neither a dress nor a headscarf but rather an eclectic ensemble of metal and leather, identifying her as a warrior. Rosy hair spilled like blood over her shoulders. Her high, pointed ears twitched in the morning breeze.

She swallowed a chuckle and thought, So it starts again. The Juka shall attack, we shall repel them and the eternal balance shall assert itself anew. You'd think they might learn from centuries of failure, and yet the Juka will never quit. Battle is their proper nature. So the ancestors recorded long ago.

Somewhere in the distance she heard a screeching commotion. With ease she sprang up from her high-flung perch through the loftier branches overhead. When she breached the forest canopy, she peered across an ocean of treetops and spotted the source of the noise. A fountain of crimson shapes erupted from the leaves to the north. Great, red wings unfurled like banners in the sky. It was a tribe of gargoyles fleeing from the woods. The invaders were driving them away. For a moment Dasha watched the brutish creatures glide toward the low, morning clouds. They possessed a wild beauty that she reluctantly enjoyed.

Then something else rose from the leaves. It was a pillar of smoke that quickly spread. Soon curtains of black and grey wafted up from the distant greenery. The scent of ash drifted past her. Dasha perked her ears. They're clearing a space to camp, she thought. The Juka must be planning a long battle this time. And why not? The forest is pleasant in autumn. A brisk siege will add spice to the season. I shall enjoy this. I must remember to thank Warlord Kabur before I send him limping back home.

The elders at the stronghold would be interested in this development. With hardly a sound she ducked back into the trees and navigated toward the deeps of the forest. Like a murky sea was the vast tangle of branches through which Dasha moved unfettered. She became a spotted streak, too quick to follow. Such was the character of the nimble Meer, who were ancient allies to nature's society. Wherever they settled they befriended the land and traveled as freely as the wind.

The magnificent stronghold of the Meer stood as an island in the center of the forest. Its towers and parapets were a wonder of sorcerous architecture. Every stone of the edifice was marked with a rune, coursing with magical strength. On rare campaigns, in ages past, the Jukan army had managed to reach the mystic fortress, yet never could their battering rams puncture its enchanted walls. The castle was the dauntless heart of Meer civilization, the center of their ancient culture.

Within its opulent chambers dwelled the grey-furred elders, the guardians of ancient lore, draped in robes of fine, flashing silk and mantles embroidered in gold. Greatest among them stood the sorcerer Adranath. Tall and proud in his silvery coat, he strode like a spirit through his people's long history, cloaked in the legend of his centuried career. Adranath was the oldest of all Lore Masters, older by half than the stronghold itself. His great age lent him an air of mystery. His moods and manners echoed a time when the world was a crueler place.

Sometimes, when he was not looking at her, Dasha imagined the years might have wearied the old man's senses. The thought made her uncomfortable. Presently she delivered her report in his audience chamber, an austere place of shadows and incense. The undecorated walls seemed to listen as she spoke.

When Adranath heard the news, gloom deepened his sigh. His ancient eyes grew dark. "You carry the portent of doom, my child. The magic of our fortress depends upon the vitality of the forest. Without it, our walls will crumble. The more trees the Juka burn, the weaker we become."

Dasha bowed her head. "With respect, Venerable Master, they would have to burn down the entire forest before our walls might fail us. They have never attempted such an atrocity before."

"And you are confident they will not do so now?"

"They are militant and aggressive, but they keep strong traditions of honor. I know they would not betray their values. I have fought the Juka for many of their generations." She lifted her chin as if proud of the accomplishment.

Adranath leaned back in his tall chair and grunted, "You underestimate their reclusive lord. He has brought great changes to the Juka in the last decade."

"You mean the one they call Exodus? He fears to show his face to us. He is hardly a threat."

"He has taught them sorcery."

She frowned. "Healing and petty enchantments. Even I am more of a sorcerer than the Juka shall ever be. Venerable Master, I don't understand your apprehension. The ancient balance between Juka and Meer has never faltered before. What makes this attack dangerous?"

"Because Exodus is dangerous," grumbled the sorcerer. "He is an impurity in our world. I fear he will upset the old balance. A harsh winter looms ahead of us, my child, and if the Juka overcome us we shall face a catastrophe. I fear we may not survive."

At that moment Dasha knew that Adranath's age had enfeebled him. Even a legend must fade in time. With conjured grace she excused herself from the old wizard's chamber and returned to the forest, where her fellow officers had begun to organize the defense of their magical home. She tried to forget Adranath's presage of ruin, the brooding of his senile mind.

Yet long ago the ancestors had warned against dismissing the counsel of elders. For Dasha and her fellow soldiers, the lesson proved devastating.

Terror is a wall of embers rushing toward one's home. In the ensuing days the Meer battled two enemies at once: the relentless onslaught of Jukan warriors and the roaring fury of the blazes they had set. The Jukan troops drove back all efforts by the Meer to extinguish the inferno. The sun vanished behind a storm of black smoke. With horror Dasha realized that the castle was not under attack. The leader of the Juka, Warlord Kabur, intended to level the ancient forest itself. The crime was an affront to Jukan honor as Dasha had always known it.

Defeat came as a red blast of heat and a blizzard of ash and cinders. As the Meer abandoned their crumbling stronghold, the Jukan warriors charged out from the smoke and felled them like brittle timber. Dasha fled with the survivors while the holocaust devoured the lush woodland. The forest had been her home for a hundred years. It was vanishing in less than a week.

She and her fellow soldiers had succeeded in evacuating the elders. Even now some were plotting their sorcerous revenge. But Dasha nurtured a different rage. Her obsidian eyes sharpened as she ran through the fiery gloom. She knew what must be done.

Adranath, of course, had been correct. The lord called Exodus had corrupted the Juka by some unthinkable sorcery. To craft a strategy against the enemy, Dasha had to learn what had happened to the Juka. It was a question she would put to their leader, Warlord Kabur himself. Dasha would meet him face-to-face and demand an explanation. If his answer did not satisfy her, she would meet him blade-to-blade.

In that case, she knew, satisfaction would be hers. Then the elders would return the holocaust to the Juka and the eternal balance would assert itself anew. Such was the proper course of history, which could not be diverted. So the ancestors had promised, countless generations ago. Of that, if nothing else, Dasha had no doubt at all.

To all who have interest in seeing Edguardo freed, we meet this evening at 8:00 (CST) in Serpent's Hold at the Southern Guard Post (the area just south of the bridge connecting the north and south portions of Serp's Hold). We will board vessels at 8:15 (CST) promptly to set sail for our final destination. Come prepared for battle. I hope to negotiate for Edguardo's freedom, but if need be, force will take precedence.

Ra'Dian Fl'Gith
Esorei'Toryn, Cult of the Azure Dragons

Welcome to a new feature of the Daily Herald, the Thursday Development update. Each Thursday we will bring you a summary of whats happening ouside the roleplay world of Great Lakes, and let you know about the latest planned changes to our world. At the end of this post, you will find a summary of this weeks changes to the Update Center. On days where there is an impending publish, the entire list of upcoming changes will be listed.

If you like this article, please Let me know!

The big talk this week is the addition of Runic Hammers. Theyre given as a reward for completing bulk order deeds (see below for details on that). The Runic Hammers allow blacksmiths to create colored weapons with special properties, though nobody is quite sure what these special properties are.

For you rares collectors, there was an announcement about the new Glassblowing and Masonry tools being renamed, so that the value of the true rares would not be depreciated.

Designer Alai made a comments from the team posting today in which he made some interesting quotes:

"We have taken an initiative to wipe out the bugs in the Party System and started with the clients. The Party System will be more stable and pleasant to deal with than ever."

"Several aesthetic improvements will be coming to the Third Dawn client soon. This includes mip-mapping..."

"Our 2D client is getting a “Quick Menu” of its own."

"The Third Dawn client is getting support for more fonts."

"The ability to switch from full screen mode and back again in real time has been added to the Third Dawn client."

"We have also added several performance enhancements to the Third Dawn client."

On the UO.com boards this week, player response on the Runic Hammers has been positive, response to the Humility virtue system continues to be overly negative. Players are confused as to the end of the gargoyle siege scenario. People are generally upset that they will have to pay $30 for the LBR Client.

These changes are new this week to in concept:

Spirituality system

Spirituality is part of a philosophy within Ultima Online known as the Virtues, and is one of eight pursuits within the upcoming Virtue system.



The Virtue of Spirituality has been described as:

“Spirituality is the concern with one's inner being and how one deals with Truth, Love, and Courage.”

From the Journal of Ra'Dian Fl'Gith
Fol'Vytec, Year of the Clockwork Beasts
http://www.alterythem.com/cad

Edguardo has been moved. Perhaps through my own stupidity, or perhaps as someone has been listening in ‘pon my conversations within the Temple of Nexchronosis. Either way, Edguardo now faces grave danger. I learned that the Royal Knights of Redemption, the Holy Cross Defenders, and the Order of the Silver Serpents acted must swifter in response to Edguardo’s movement than I. For Aryn was able to take Leshyani Rhianne prisoner before I was able to seek her out.

I was however allowed to speak with her, to learn what I could of where he might be. While I will not openly discuss yet where I believe him to lie, certainly some of the information she provided may provide clue.

I assisted in moving Leshyani to a new prison last even, I pray only that Alcornierden forgives my presumption. Even still, there are tales that perhaps Leshyani has been mistreated, and to that I cannot speak. I know only that the Order of One are investigating, and asked to see her. General Nero allowed me to arrange communication via crystal instead, and I believe that Lore Denin was satisfied of her condition.

Alas, on other fronts, I am beginning to realize that we of the Cult are in a tenuous position at times. For Mordain still wishes Edguardo to pay for his crimes of treason against the Temple of Mondain, however, Mordain did stay his claim at my behest. I fear though that relations between the Temple and the Holy Cross Defenders is not as well defined. I found myself sitting on the stone floor of the Holy Cross tower while those around me bickered and fought, distracting from the return of Edguardo.

I also spoke briefly to Ramirez who visited Dracona late in the evening. He will not trade Edguardo for Leshyani. He wants the corpse of his father, Basil Stag Hare, and I believe he will execute Edguardo before any other trade. General Nero has, however, made it most clear that he will not allow such a trade to occur.

And a full scale assault on Edguardo’s current prison is not an option either.

Which leaves me with two choices... Plan a minor incursion to attempt to extract him and risk his life, or find a way to change Nero’s mind. Either way, I fear that Edguardo has little time remaining to him.

I must think on this matter, but I must think swiftly. For now, I must consult the shadows and ask their advice.

Ra’Dian Fl’Gith
Esorei’Toryn, Cult of the Azure Dragons

Birds were chirping in the clearing of the Skara Brae Fairgrounds. A small
hind ran past the two as they walked the amphitheater. As the two walked
about they came upon a fortuneteller and his customer.

The two friends stood quietly and watched as Zandaron D'Naga told his
customers fortune by way of the crystal ball. After completing the fortune
D'Naga looked to his two possible patrons and asked if they were interested
in having a reading.

Alaric, keen on the fact that his soul was troubled by the possessed man who
neared the Monastery nearly three weeks earlier, decided that this may be a
means to discover what Evil forces were at work.

Sitting down D'Naga began the reading. It went something like this. "I see
you in a structure, rather large, perhaps the Empath Abbey or one of the
local banks. No, it's not a bank as it has spiritual overtones. There are
many people with you. They seem concerned about something...something evil.
There is danger for someone close to you, it's a woman...Perhaps it is your
sister or mother...maybe a friend? There is an evil coming it is very
close...it is an ancient evil. I now see battle and death...battle that
brings Armageddon."

Alaric sat stone-faced. His wife's dream telling formed images in his mind.
A few faces began to take shape. Alaric probed for more but D'Naga's reading
was over. Alaric grew agitated as Tym's hands pulled Alaric from the chair.

"Speak D'Naga," Tym hurriedly pried, "What see thee in my fortune that
mayest shed some light on the matter?"

D'Naga began the reading, which showed Tym was among the many in the
building and was also greatly affected by whatever ancient evil was coming.

D'Naga probed Alaric and Tym with questions, surprised that his readings
stirred such emotion. Perhaps a few more questions would bring darkness into
the light.

Alaric shared all that he knew and that which was on his mind, like the
battles against the ancient lich Juo'Nar and long time enemy Marious
Goubert. He told of the Templars and his time in training, his wife's dreams
and anything else that may have helped.

When Alaric and Tym returned to the Monastery they looked pale, which is why
I asked them and how I came to this story. The most interesting fact in all
of this which further suggests reality that something sinister was, or shall
I say, is afoot is that Alaric nor Tym had ever met Zandaron before the
readings. All circumstances from this are either coincidence or there is a
bigger event afoot.

Anand Clayborne, Monk at the Monastery of Rose

*From the Sister's Archives*
Two nights in a cowardly act, Aryn of RKR and Naomi Armitage of HCD came to the Sister's House to discuss Edguardo's fate.
While there, of course a battle ensued and Leshyani and Tee Tee were defeated. Seeing an opportunity, they captured Leshyani and took her to a cabin in the woods.
After she arrived no one knows what happened until Lore Denin, a member of the CDB and Kaleta, a Sister showed up to inquire on Leshyani's rights and health while in the care of the 'Knights". Finally, Kaleta had decided she had had enough and attacked the Knights. Of course, since she was outnumbered badly, she valiantly lost, trying to save her High Enchantress.

All chained up, Leshyani and Kaleta were forced to march to the Holy Cross Defenders' tower in Felucca, where they were to be imprisoned, possibly as barganing chips for 'poor' Edguardo.
In a scuffle with the help of Sister Dementia X, Kaleta somehow managed to escape, able to give us the information that you are reading now.
Yet another attempt to free her was attempted last eve by the army of the Sisters, led by Mercantile Sorceress, Southernbelle. But when they arrived at the tower, they were thwarted by the combined force of HCD and RKR. I wonder what one thinks about while in jail? Ahh well hardly for me to decide.
And what is this? This morning yet another twist in this long string of events...

A note delivered upon carrier pidgeon-
"Dear lady leshy I am afraid that it has come to this. You are in part responsible for the death of too many good citizens of these lands. You have trangressed justice too long. With the help of dissidents from your guild we have 'rescued' your son, and hold him in our 'safekeeping'. I hope our extreme measures here willh elp you look at what is important to you, and rethink your association with EoA...
Signed Lord Phoenix-Shaddock Katal Guildmaster of Phoenix Rising, and servant to the land."

And this letter received from Leshyani herself in captivity...
"Last night I was captured by the forces of the Order of the Silver Serpent, the Royal Knights of Redemption, and the Holy Cross Defenders. They wish to trade me for Edguardo. They wish to put me on some sort of trial. Please respond.
Leshyani Rianne"


What is Leshyani's fate? Does the fate of 'poor' Edguardo rest solely upon Leshyani's purple shoulders? We shall have to see.

Brianna Lavendar, Scribe to the Sisters

From Alaric:

The sun was setting over the mountain west of the Monastery shrouding the great monolith in shadows. It was a peaceful day as usual in Trammel. The Knights Templar assisted new and old citizens alike through the sale of goods and services.

Alaric Torquil, Keeper of the Monastery and Papas of the Templars sat
pouring over the Journal of Xerxes. It was written in an unscrupulous style. The deciphering of this aged text would require the learned linguist Gwyneth Torquil or Silvanus Fellows. Alaric returned the dusty leather bound volume to a well-secured chest and wisped away through a gate to meditate at the Shrine of Spirituality.

Ludwig Faulk had been helping Alaric attempt to read sections of the
manuscript. Upon Alaric's departure Ludwig spent some time dusting and
sweeping various rooms of the Monastery of cobwebs and debris from the days activities. Tezozomoc Quando assisted Ludwig in the evening chores. A few citizens arrived to purchase wares and talk of Britannian politics.

Night now loomed and a starless sky offered no light to travelers. Tezozomoc lit the flames of candles and torches throughout the monastery to welcome passerby. Howls rippled in the distance. Tezozomoc and Ludwig looked at each other surprised by the sound. No wolves had been seen in this area of Britannia for ages. Most scared away by the growing population and hunting. A scream rang out which seemed to shake the mountain loose from its foundations. Ludwig threw open the double doors and a vision of horror met their eyes. The bloody remains of a lamb lay disemboweled only a few yards from the doors. A ravenous beast of a man covered and dripping in blood sat
hunched on heals over the corpse. A wide grin of mockery flooded the skinny face. Wild eyes peered eerily forward and a guttural growl, barely audible and understandable, retched toward the bewildered men. So said the demented carnivore, This is where thyselves hast hidden thyselves? Tezozomoc and Ludwig, the shock now dissipating and having experienced the demonic possessions of men before readied for the conflict, hands on silver blades. The man continued his verbal assault, Hastening to Trammel we dost see. Ahhh, thyselves thought safety from mine Fallen Ones? With a glib cackle the demon possessed man fled into the woods. Darkness followed him, the only clothing he wore.

Ludwig and Tezozomoc exchanged glances and returned to the inner sanctum of the Monastery. Alaric and the rest of the Templar Order will need to hear of this. Ludwig rambled. Tezozomoc opened the door of the Monastery again to peer outside. The howls of the wolves had stopped.

From the Journal of Ra'Dian Fl'Gith
Chro'Xac, Year of the Clockwork Beasts

http://www.alterythem.com/cad

“Minoc did not fall, little thanks to you.” The gravely voice cut through the air as it echoed off of the stones of the tower.

Ra’Dian set his quill back into the inkwell upon the stone desk before him and let out a deep sigh. “Nemesis, I had t’ make a choice. One that had I made any o’er way perhaps would had brought further destruction t’ both Ilshenar and eventually t’ both Sosarian facets. I understand little o’ what you saw ‘neath the Controller Pyramid, but I assure you that there is somethin’ most wrong in Ilshenar. We had to assist.”

Nemesis slammed his shadow helm upon the table, an odd noise resounding as stone met metal. “You turned your back on Felucca, just like that coward king whose name is swiftly falling off of the pages of the Feluccan history books.”

The small chamber became aglow with a bright sapphire light as Ra’Dian stood swiftly, resting his fists upon the edge of his desk. “By the hells, you will nae compare me to that man! I bled in Trinsic to stop Minax, and I bled there again t’ reclaim it from the clutches o’ Juo’nar and that bitch-queen. I bled in Cove as savages overran it. And my blood has stained the grounds of Dracona and the foul dungeons of these realms more times than I care count. British hasn’t bled in longer than one would dare speak!”

“Then why is one of your friends rotting in a cell, held captive by the Empire of Armageddon?” Nemesis asked, a slight violet glow to his eyes. “Are you too enraptured by the Mondainites search for knowledge? Too busy looking beyond the Battle of Minoc with Leshyani, towards the collective goal of studying magicks? Too busy ordering me into Ilshenar to war mechanical abominations? Too busy to save your own friend?”

The azure glow became stronger, lighting the room far more than the candle upon his desk or the lanterns upon the walls. And then the light subsided. “What would ye hae me do?”

“I would have you live up to the precept that this cult of yours was founded upon.” The violet light was too gone from the Enforcer’s eyes. “I would have you strike Nujel’m and free your friend from captivity.”

“We could not possibly strike the heart of the Empire and hope to survive. It would be far easier if I were to speak to Nero and arrange for the return of Basil’s body to the Empire. They have means of preventing all but their forces from gating or recalling into their ‘capitol,’ and they have redirected the moongate that sits on the far shore. We can’t simply pop in, grab Edguardo, and sneak out unnoticed. They have sealed the isle quite well.”

The Enforcer let out a hearty laugh. “You are getting old, you feeble elf.”

“I’m getting old?” Ra’Dian allowed himself to smile. “Ye be fifteen thousand years older than I.”

“At least I am not afraid of the ocean, you lazy excuse for a mage.” The look upon the Enforcer’s face was stern, but Ra’Dian knew he simply enjoyed being the one to point out the flaws in his logic.

“And I suppose you have thought about how would go about this?”

Nemesis Enforcer pulled a scroll from his belt pouch and unrolled it, setting it on the desk before him. “First we require transport...”

Ra’Dian smiled inwardly as the Enforcer spoke. There was little wonder how the man before him had attained the title of Nemesis Enforcer, one of the most prestigious honors that the Emperor of the ancient Dragothan empire could bestow, granting him command of a legion of warriors.

Perhaps Edguardo would soon be free.

From Shaddock Katal:

On the eve of the battles of Minoc, and against Lord Blackthorne, the Lord Phoneix gave a speech to the guild Phoenix Rising:

"Phoenix Risning, my family, my warrior brethran hear me this day. We are on the eve of a day of great darkness, a day of great glory, a day of two great battles that may be fought. On the one hand we have the tower thats been built in Britain, that will show us the location of those responsible for the recent attacks of the golems and controllers, and for the enslavement of the gargoyles of Illsnair. Then on the other we have the defense of Minoc from the Empires of Armageddon. Soon these two great battles will take place; good versus evil across the lands. And we are a force of good. We must stand, we must stand against evil wherever it arises. We must meet evil whenever it challenges the peace of our lives, the security of our lands, the freedom of our people. Though you may fall in battle, stnad with me now. For it is said that '...he who sheds his blood with me, he is my brother'. So honor me Phoenix Rising, shed blood with me on the day of these battles. Hope that it may be the blood of those that make us force our hand, as opposed to our own, may good triumph without cost. But that is most unlikely, many will fall tommorow, and in the dark days ahead. Yet, though you may fall in the war against evil, you will stand forever tall in our hearts as heroes. So I ask you today, as I asked you all when you chose to serve these lands when you first joined PHR, will you protect these land with your life, will you stand with me tommorow?"

And Upon the day of battle...

Shaddock Katal looks over those that came:"Only three," he think, "I had hoped for more.", he says. Shaddock:"But this will have to do do. Everyone ready?" Mighty Maximus:"Aye sire." Elmcarra:"Yes my lord". Raist:"Aye". Shaddock:"Then let us meet with the rest of CDB, they are waiting for us". So the foursome from PHR set out to felucca, a trip not so often taken by this group. Upon arrival to the supply base of CDB in Felucca the army prepares. Shaddock:"Hail, and well met all, is this all we have to defnd Minoc with?" Whit Lotus: "Aye, save for a few more troops lagging behind this is the bulk of the force. Have you men gotten into uniform?" Shaddock:"Yes, shortly they will be all prepared, once we get a few last supllies from our stock here." White Lotus:"Very well, godspeed to you and your men, and thnak you for helping." Shaddock:"Aye, godspeed to us all, and