November 2007

It's been awhile, but the project is not dead! We've just put up an update with some additional concept art and new music. More updates are in the pipeline and should be here in time for Christmas, but I don't think we'll have the entire calendar done by then.

Still, please enjoy the 2 new concept shots!

http://ds180.net/calendar/

As winter quickly approaches, I look out at Magincia from the roof of Lady Silverbrook’s estate and wonder what will become of the island city. Magincia no longer looks like the carefully carved miniature locked inside its representative from the collectible Snowy Scenes snow globe series. In fact, Magincia resembles a desolate wasteland more and more each day.

Over fifty percent of the city’s buildings have been razed to the ground since the daemon invasion began, or as some people are calling it, divine retribution for the sin of Pride. However, the daemons are not entirely to blame. Granted, the strangely named ‘Light Daemons’ are directly linked to the destruction, it is some of the ‘defenders’ of Magincia that actually should be held responsible.

Many of the so-called ‘defenders’ are luring the light daemons into Magincian buildings and manipulating the daemon into unleashing magical explosions that decimate the area. Why you might ask? For souvenirs! Yes, the Britannian citizenry has taken leave of their senses and patriotic duty so they may cart away packfulls of singed and broken building materials, house wares, and even local flora as well. These items had become like a drug to sum individuals, an irrational craving.

I had been waiting a short while on the rooftop to interview Lady Silverbrook about the state of Magincia, for she was at the site of the Library surveying the damage. When she joined me, I asked her about the demonic invasion and the toll it was having. "As with any war, it pains one the most when it strikes close to home. Magincia has been my home for many years, as well as a place I have conducted both business and events for the community. The constant raging war is right outside my window, so-to-speak. I've been spending most of my time upon the Isle, both protecting others and defending what remains of the city from the onslaught of undead and demons."

When asked about the demise of the Magincia Library & Museum, the largest repository of Seer artifacts on the shard, she smiled strangely at me and said the "Rumors of its demise were... exaggerated." She then pointed to the southeast behind me, when I turned, I was dumbstruck. The Library’s walls stood once again, unblemished. The roof of the tent out front flapped slightly from a gentle tradewind. I managed stutter out the question of how this managed to occur in the last few minutes, but she would only smile serenely and shrug her shoulders. Apparently, there was great magic at work.

Getting back to the interview, I asked her of the apparent greed that the so-called defenders were exhibiting. A hard look came into her eyes. "In all fairness, it is something which I am torn by. When the attacks began, Magincia knew there would be destruction. They knew that the streets paved with gems, and the sandstone with its gold lining would be accosted. There were areas attacked early on that received extensive damage. We knew that is was a possibility.

"What I did not expect, were those people that willingly took daemons into areas, that could and should have been salvageable, to allow those parts of the city to be decimated. It tears at me, the shouts and taunts that some said, to not kill the beasts and drive them further to the outreaches of the city to claim their treasures. I heard some state that 'no one came to Magincia anyways'. I find that disillusioning. While I understand wanting mementos of the fair city, it wounds me to watch the rampant destruction, merely for the sake of a few people’s own material needs. They are not simply collecting this 'rubble'... They are taking away precious memories from others, as well as destroying a cornerstone of Britannia. It is with heavy heart that I must admit to myself that some of those adventurers that came to Magincia are truly and possibly more dangerous to the future of the Isle than the daemons they fight. I have faith, in the end, those that used this war for their own base ends will receive their just rewards... still, it is difficult to comprehend why one would so callously be motivated by their own greed."

That sentiment had been echoed by the High Council the night before, brought to the floor by the Minister of Virtue, Lord DaKaren. The result of their discussion led to the pledge from the Britannian Armed Forces to send troops into the city to fight the daemon hordes. Lady Silverbrook was pleased by the news, and wished to thank them and the other groups she witnessed actually fighting the Light Daemons.

I asked what she saw in the future for Magincia, and if she thought the Crown would have the city rebuilt. Once again, the serene smile, yet with a far-off look in her eyes. "I foresee the time will come, that this will be over. I have faith that we shall persevere from these dark days. Do I have hope for a New Magincia? Of course. I think we shall see a day when we will truly go from a city known for its Pride, to one that has been touched by Humility. I hope that day comes... sooner than later, of course... but we all are tested, in our own ways. We simply must learn and grow stronger from that which attempts to usurp us."

Before I left, she wished to add a personal message to the citizens, "To those who have honestly and willfully attempted to preserve and fight for Magincia's liberation, I give my thanks. What you attempt to do is no small feat, given the forces that ensnare the Isle. I am indebted to those who honestly sacrificed their own safety selflessly... the odds are indeed, at this time, overwhelming.

"To them I say: Be well, and be safe."

Before I headed back to my Library, I dashed to the restored Magincia Library and Museum, to see if it was truly returned. The sandstone was real, the furnishings were repaired. Debris still littered the ground floor and surrounding environs, but all mattered was as it had been before the invasion. I turned to leave, only to sigh with despair as a group of ‘defenders’ lured a light daemon into the southern wing. I giggled from my hiding spot when the daemon’s power exploded harmlessly against the now impervious Library. "Let them waste their time here, for it buys the rest of the city precious time..." I heard in my mind, Lady Silverbrook was in peak form today...

Martyna Z'muir, LofS

James Lawford was born in the Valorian Isles city of Jhelom 28 years ago. He was a slight lad, and didn’t fit the usual mold of a warrior-to-be; due to this, James was tormented by his peers. His parents, mercenaries by trade, were slain in battle with the Juka, leaving ten-year-old James an orphan. Unfortunately, this did not ease his persecution.

At the age of twelve, James fell in with a local band of pickpockets and deftly learned to ply their trade. After James spent a few years on the streets, the Jhelom Guard cracked down on his gang. With most of his compatriots in jail or worse, James slipped through the moongate, desperate to survive. He soon found himself in a new city, Britain, a place where his reputation was, as yet, unsullied. Within days, however, the Royal Guard had him marked as a thief, and expelled from the city.

Now an outcast, James wandered the northern roads as a brigand. After several years, James heard of Newcastle, the city which had sprung up around the castle of the Royal Knights of Redemption. He journeyed there, towards the unsuspecting town.

This history, unknown to most Newcastle residents, might seem scandalous. For they know him as a mild-mannered farmer who moved there to work the rich farmland, and join a community based on the Virtues. They accepted his story, and welcomed him into their community. Even as the citizens grew on him, James lusted after the city’s treasury, awaiting his chance.

Several months ago, James declared his candidacy for Mayor of Newcastle. Running unopposed, James’ election was a sure bet. Or it was, until he met Nosfentor, Shadowlord and leader of the Crimson Order...

This brings us to the present. After the fall of Castle British, James’ attitudes changed. He sat in the gallery during the High Council meetings and openly scoffed at the running of the Kingdom. Brandishing a dagger, he flippantly told the Chancellor that she should surrender to the Crimson Order, as defeat was inevitable. He continued to mock the Grand Marshal and the Britannian Armed Forces throughout the meeting, and was eventually forced to leave...as a spirit.

At the next High Council meeting, James was disruptive. Again, he espoused the rhetoric of surrender. This time, however, other Newcastle citizens were there to attempt to restrain his behavior. He became combative and actually slapped Prafectus Oona of the Royal Knight of Redemption across the face. Once more he was forced to leave the Council Hall, this time retaining his corporeal form.

After searching for him for days, I located him skulking about the Newcastle Post Office. When I questioned him about his loyalties to the city, and to the Crown, he merely laughed.

I asked him of his bid for the office of Mayor, in light of his recent political leanings, and he gave me a most disturbing reply, “The citizens of Newcastle are like sheep. If it weren’t for the wolves, the Knights, to keep them in order they'd scatter in this direction anyways...” I questioned his likening the residents to sheep, and he said, “Aye, nice fatted sheep!”

When asked why the sudden change of allegiance, he smiled and quipped, “’Tis better at the right hand of the devil, then to stand in her path.” He went on, in a conspiratorial tone, that he stood to profit from the war by selling supplies and artifacts. Tokunese artifacts. He claimed this profit would, “Benefit my people immeasurably,” When asked who ‘his people’ are, his only response was to tap a tattoo in his right forearm, a black fist outlined in red. With that, he winked and melded into the shadows.

Currently, James is in protective custody after his most recent disruption of the last High Council meeting. As before, he said Britannia should surrender to the Crimson Order or prepare to die. Chancellor Willa urged the Newcastle Councilor to have James taken to a healer, fearing that his mind may have been warped during his visit to Cove.

Is James Lawford a traitor? A spy? Or is he just the latest casualty of Nosfentor’s unrelenting desire to see Britannia in ruins?

Martyna Z'muir,LofS

After the fall of Cove, and the attempt by the Tokuno native Bunshichi to represent the village on the High Council, a citizen of Newcastle by the name of James Lawford approached me. Mr. Lawford wished an audience with Nosfentor to discuss the idea of him representing the people of Cove on the Council. As I had already planned to interview the Shadowlord about the city, this seemed like a grand opportunity to combine our goals. Nosfentor finally agreed to meet with us the day before Castle British fell.

Mr. Lawford and I met outside the defensive fortifications and waited to be let inside. Nosfentor herself brought us into the city and gave us an expeditious tour. The people of Cove listlessly milled around the village with a blank expressions on their faces, as if their thoughts were elsewhere. We attempted to speak with several citizens, however, they only mumbled in response and stared at the ground.

As we neared the fortified bank, we were joined by Soke Bishimi as we headed for the crop fields to the north. The Soke bragged that Tokuno was furnishing superior seed stock for the fields, so the villagers would not starve. However, the fields appeared to be producing only a meager supply of squash and root vegetables, a fact that was quickly blamed on “lazy farm hands.”

The conversation then quickly turned to how the High Council had always neglected the village's population and defenses. Apparently, after the siege, the Crimson Order marched on the orc fort to the south and lay waste to its population. This orcish genocide was designed to show the people they would be ‘protected’. While the orcs had occasionally attempted to raid Cove, this kind of wholesale slaughter would be unthinkable by the Council’s standards.

As I reflected on the deaths of innocent orcish children, I realized that I had yet to see any human children within Cove's walls. When asked about the children's whereabouts, Nosfentor and Bishimi grinned at one another. "They are being educated in Tokuno." was Nosfentor's response. The children had been taken from their homes, shipped to a foreign land, and were being reeducated to follow Tokunese values. It is little wonder the adults in Cove seem to be in a daze; their families have been separated, and their futures put in jeopardy.

While I spoke with the Shadowlord on the providence of the children, Bishimi led Mr. Lawford away to ‘show him more of the fields.’ Minutes later we were quickly being ushered out of the gated walls. I opened a gate to Britain to observe the battle preparations, and we stepped through. The third ripple in the gate's energy field told me we had been followed. Mr. Lawford quickly excused himself and headed into the city; my keen sense of tracking told me he was not alone...