October 2001

From our friends at BNN:

The cloaked figure moved silently through dark hallways, only the sound of flickering torches echoing as he passed. At his approach, the doors at the end of the passage slowly pushed open with the heavy grinding sound of metal on stone. As he passed through the doorway, his hand made a small gesture and the doors slammed shut behind him with a deafening thunder.

"Exodus," he spoke in his deep voice, "it seems your lack of understanding of the humans could very well cost us this entire campaign!" His arm shot out and knocked a small statue across the room like an arrow. The small lights on the far wall began to sparkle like firelight through gems.

"Calm yourself. The humans have yet to even discover our security measures." The voice droned on like a constant buzzing of insect wings. "Ver Lor Reg remains under my complete control. The workers have started construction on even more of my overseers. The control device is protected."

"One of my spies managed to bring me a report this morning from Britain. It seems the King's old lackey Nystul has one of the power crystals and is examining it as we speak." The figure began to pace slowly, his cloak drifting behind him slightly.

Exodus paused and the lights flickered for a moment. "The mage could not learn the secrets of the devices we have scattered over Britannia."

"No, but he may learn enough! You underestimate the humans at every turn, Exodus!" He turned and faced the wall of lights, drifting closer as he spoke. "I warned you this man might cause us trouble. You chose not to concern yourself. I warned you that the humans might discover our lair. Again, you did not show concern. Now, not only does this blasted wizard have a power crystal in his laboratory but his search party, although now dead, did discover us and now your very name is being whispered by every human!"

"You believe we will fail?"

"I believe I understand humans better than you." The figure resumed pacing. "Was it not my understanding and knowledge of this world that made you approach me?"

"Yes it was. And the fact that you were human. A human whose diligence for ruling this world would compare to my own. And a human with ideas greater than those of the king who stood in power above him." The lights glinted for a moment. "That is why I gave you power. I have been away from Britannia for too long."

"I would suggest you begin to acclimate yourself by not underestimating the world we are trying to conquer. Had I not suggested you orchestrate the confusion with the savages and orcs, the humans might have found you before a single golem had been built!" The figure pointed angrily towards the source of Exodus' voice. "We risk the loss of the gargoyle slaves and our golems! What then? Since I have joined you I have yet to hear you speak of how we shall conquer Britannia without an army!"

"I assume you have thoughts on the matter?" Exodus replied calmly.

The figure lowered his arm and regained his composure. "I have been studying the records you gave me. I believe we may have other options should we lose the gargoyle city." The dark figure turned away from the lights and slowly drifted towards the doorway. "I have business to attend to. We shall discuss it when I return."

"As you wish."

The cloaked figure moved his hand and the heavy doors swung open slowly. He turned back to Exodus' voice. "As I said before, I will not be satisfied until victory is absolute."

"You will have your vengeance on Britannia,” Exodus said. "Soon all humans will know you as Lord Blackthorn, ruler of Sosaria."

As Blackthorn turned and moved out of the chamber, he could not help but smile.

Sits at my desk taking out a quill and parchment and begins a letter*

Dear White Lotus,

It pains me in a way to write to you of my mothers death. The Lady Raven McAllister Jarrethson along with my Father Tyran Jarrethson and their guild Phantoms of Arctic Isle has perished in a quest that I do not know the details of. However, in her absence my grandfather and I along with our guild Great Lakes Trade Commission (GTC) would like to help you in your quest for supplies against the evil that is spreading among our lands. I do this in my Parents name for my mother loved the lands and Trinsic with all her heart and if she were here she would be defending the city even as I write this. She gave her life to not only Trinsic but the lands in which we live.
Our Guild House and Vendor house is in Moonglow and we have already begun to make supplies for you. Currently we have kegs of Greater Cure & Heal along with some armor and weapons. If you could get back to me on where to deliver this or send someone to me I would greatly appreate this. Lady Lotus if would like more please send me a missive with a list. We currently have a GM Smith & Tailor to help.
In these troubled times I hope to see more caring citizens of the lands come to aid to help all. If there is any other way in which I or GTC can be of help Please let us know. We also have a medium in our guild who may be able to help. Her bridge to the other side is uncanny and many people have been helped by her skills. She may be of some aid with her healing and arts of magic.

By my hand
Lady Tara Jarrethson
Head Mistress of Great Lakes Trade Commission Inn

*Rereads the letter with a few tears and a smile knowing her parents especially her mother would be very proud of her. She folds the letter sealing it with wax and her signet ring handing it to a messanger with a few coins to deliver*

From our partners at the BNN:

A banging at his door made Krett spring up from his work and knock his head against something thick and heavy. A low-toned, gong-like sound rang throughout his small cottage. Holding his hands tightly against the back of his head, he looked up with one cocked eye to see a golem head, swinging on its neck support. He backed away from the body of the machine, wincing at the small throb in his skull, and wiped his hands on an oily rag. He tossed it down as the banging continued on the door. “I’m coming!” he half mumbled.

He worked his away across the floor around piles of his projects. Bits of golem lay in semi-completed forms in a pattern than could have passed for an obstacle course with random papers lying everywhere as if they had fallen from the canopy of a giant tree above. Clocks lined the walls, although half had been covered by hastily sketched plans that had been pinned up. As he made his way through the maze, piles of documents spilled behind him and small tools tinkled to the floor. The banging on the door resumed just as he came near and pulled it open.

“Krett! You are home!” said a man in leather armor with a bow on his back.

“Shamino? Ah… you’re early! Come in, ah… come in!”

Krett stood aside to allow the famous ranger to enter the cottage, although the room was limited. Shamino looked around at the piles of half-formed mechanical beings and found the image a little disturbing.

“Am I early? I should be right on time.” The ranger curiously prodded a strange assembly of gears on the floor with his foot.

Krett maneuvered his way back towards the nearly finished golem on the other side of the room. “I must, ah… have lost track of time working on this fellow over here. What time is….”

His voice was cut off by the sound of dozens of clocks ringing all at once. After squinting for a few moments at the shrill sound of the tinker’s time pieces, Shamino looked at his friend with a smirk.

“Oh, six o’ clock, you are right on time,” Krett said, moving the head of a golem up onto a table.

“Krett, I sent you word of my coming because I would like your help. I think your expertise could come in most useful.” Shamino sat casually on an upturned golem leg.

“Me?” Krett asked. “What, ah… what exactly is it you need me for?”

“Your knowledge of these mechanical men.”

“Golems,” Krett said absentmindedly.

“Pardon?” Shamino asked.

“They’re called golems, Shamino, or ‘Por-Xel-Agra-Lem’. Can’t really compare them to men. They, ah… they may look like a man, but they have no free will. No more than your bow or my tools.”

“Por-Xel… what?” Shamino looked puzzled. “What exactly did you just say?”

“Ah… as far as I can tell, it means ‘golem’ in the language of the gargoyles. I’ve had a chance to study a lot of their language from, ah… bits and pieces that explorers have returned with. Very fascinating.”

“Well…” Shamino looked around the small workshop, “I suspect no one has more knowledge of their work than you, friend. You are currently Britannia’s golem expert and because of that, I’d like you to come with me. Your knowledge could come in handy. You may even help us learn something about these Gargoyles.” He stood up and walked over to Krett to watch as the man deftly used his tools on the large golem sitting on the floor in front of him. “Nystul sent a party into Ilshenar to find out more about where these are coming from. They haven’t returned yet, and he’s asked me to go in and look for them.”

“Why do you need me to come along? I, uh… I can surely examine anything you, um… bring back to me here.”

“Yes, but out there you may see something the rest of us would miss. I have two guards with me from Britain, you’ll be safe,” Shamino promised.

Krett looked up from his work briefly, as if focusing on the conversation for the first time. “I’m… not much of an adventurer, Shamino. I’m much more comfortable here with my work. I am a tinker. I… well uh, I tinker.”

Shamino walked slowly around the man and his project. “You know… from what I’ve heard, the golems have been changing slightly since they first appeared.”

“That is true!” Krett’s voice echoed from inside the chest cavity of the golem he was working on. “Whoever makes them has changed the design more than once. The internal parts look different in the, ah… newer ones. It wouldn’t surprise me if they changed it again.”

“And do you want someone else to be the first person to see the new ones? Come now, Krett, this is a chance to see one of your metal men actually working. Maybe even get a chance to see the Gargoyle city itself.” He leaned in closer with a smirk. “Think of all there is to learn.”

Krett sighed and pulled his head out from his work, being careful to push the golem’s head aside this time. He stared at the floor in deep thought for a long moment.

“I’ll, ah… I’ll get my pack.”

* * *

Krett dismounted his horse, glad that he did not often have to ride one of the beasts. He felt as if one of his golems had come to life and shaken him for about an hour. He looked through his pack to make sure all of his tools and books were in order. Shamino and the two imposing guards also dismounted and began searching the area.

“Welcome to Ilshenar. Are you well, Krett?” Shamino asked, a slight expression of amusement on his face.

Krett looked up at his friend as he stood. “I just spent an hour, ah… having my brain bounced around the inside of my skull. If you wanted me to, uh… learn anything I think the hopes of that are over.”

Shamino grinned at his friend. “You’ll be fine; you’re just not used to horse…” He paused and looked around as if focusing deeply. “There’s a golem nearby… that way.” He looked to the guards who nodded and started running in the direction the ranger had pointed.

Krett looked puzzled. “You… you heard a golem?”

“You didn’t?” Shamino winked.

The two started in the direction the guards had run. After a few minutes of walking, they finally found the two guards lounging over the remains of a golem as if it was nothing but a stump in the wilderness. They hadn’t even broken a sweat destroying the creature. The mouth of a cave stood behind them. Shamino smirked as he watched Krett approach the golem excitedly and pull his tinker tools from his pack, along with a thick book he had been making notes in.

“Thomas, stay here with Krett while he investigates his new toy.” Krett grinned up at Shamino as he lifted a metal plate off of the chest of the golem. “William, come with me. We’ll scout ahead in the cave a bit. According to my map, this leads to the Gargoyle lands.”

Shamino and the guard walked into the opening of the cave until darkness enveloped them. Krett continued to remove parts from the inside of the golem as Thomas stood by and watched curiously. Occasionally, the steely guard would prod at a piece of the golem with his halberd.

“What is this!” Krett exclaimed as he pulled a component out of the cavity of the mechanical being. “This component is, ah… yes, ah, different than it was in older golems! Fewer parts…” He could see a slight glow coming from inside the metal box. He continued to work furiously with his tool kit. “I think we have something… here.”

“We do?” inquired Thomas in a deep voice Krett never wanted to hear in a dark alley at night.

“Er, um… yes. You see, in the older golems that I’ve, uh… had a chance to tinker with, they had an extra component in this bit. As far as I could tell, it was some sort of switch that went off when the golem shut down. It always had, uh… small pieces of some sort of crystal inside. This one, however…” he opened another panel, “That’s it. The crystal in this one is still intact! The older golems had a device that would destroy the crystal when they stopped moving!”

The guard wrinkled his brow.

“Do you know what I can do with this crystal?!” Krett was practically hopping up and down with excitement.

“KRETT!” Shamino’s voice echoed from the mouth of the cave. “Come here quickly!”

Krett looked to the guard and the two of them ran into the cave. As he lit a torch, Krett could already see blood and bodies around the newly carved cavern. He did his best not to become ill. He was no warrior and had never seen a dead man before.

“I’m sorry, friend. I know this is not a pleasant sight, but there may be clues.” Shamino led Krett deeper into the cave. “This is what is left of the party Nystul sent a few days ago. I’m not sure what killed them, but whatever it was did a thorough job.” Krett tried to focus on the walls of the cave and not on the corpses. “I know this doesn’t sit well with you, Krett, but the guards will protect you. We need your knowledge.”

Krett walked around slowly with his torch. He jumped slightly at the feeling of a human hand underneath his boot and swallowed, trying to contain his nervousness. He held his torch lower to reveal the rest of a corpse. The man had died here, but not before writing on the cave wall with his own blood. “Shamino, ah… uh… I think I may have found something! One of them tried… he, uh… tried to leave us a… um… a message. It’s only one word, but um… I… I don’t know what it says.”

“Something in the Gargoyle tongue?” the ranger’s voice echoed back.

“I’m checking, um… I’m checking that now.” Krett paged through the thick stack of notes he had made of the Gargoyle language. He knew his knowledge of the language was limited, but he was still disappointed that he could not find out what the word on the wall meant. He wasn’t even sure that the word was in fact Gargish.

“I’m sorry, Shamino. I, um… can’t tell what this word, ah… what this word means. It could be a name, a place, a city… I’m not sure. It’s not, ah… in my texts, but I think we should learn what it means. This man died trying to give you this message.”

“What is the word, Krett?” Shamino asked, walking closer in the torchlight.

Krett looked at his friend and then back at the wall. “It says… ‘Exodus’.”

From Knight's of Britannia:

The ribbons of pink and purple of dusk were laying gracefully upon the horizon, as the members of KoB gathered at the tower. Playful skirmishes rang throughout the tower's halls, members chatted about the happenings in their lives over the past week and voices rang out with birthday wishes for Cabal, Jr.

Concern began to grow as Mystic Rose and Kal'Ferin did not arrive as expected. They were the ones who planned tonight's gathering. Pigeons were sent out to both of them but replies did not return. Suddenly, through the main doors of the tower entered a Royal Knight. Begging pardon for his intrusion, he introduced himself as Sir Gilimond from the court of Lord Brittish. He had been dispatched to inform the Knight's of Britannia, that while Kal'Ferin was escorting Lady Cattie Brie home they were attacked and gravely injured by controllers and golems.

Mystic Rose hearing of the attack rushed to Trinsic to tend to the wounds of her sister and her squire. Sir Gilimond assured the members that all were safe and reassured Sirus that his wife was well and sent her love. Sir Gilimond turned to address Guildmaster Gil Shatterstone. He informed Gil that he was also sent with a request from Lord Brittish. It seemed information had been obtained that elder creatures of the realm may be aiding the controllers and golems in their attempt to take over our lands. Lord Brittish was seeking aid from the established guilds to thin the numbers of these elder beasts.

Gil immediately accepted the request in the name of the KoB. Because the task ahead was so daunting, Sir Gilimond suggested the group divide into two. Each group would be assigned a task and once completed would return to meet Sir Gilimond at Empath Abbey where he would be meditating and watching over the groups missions. Gil, Vega, Jim and Dagoth were dispatched to the depths of Fire. While Sirus, Cabal, Jr, Zubrette and Kildair traveled to the dungeon of Covetous. Their first task completed the groups made their way to the Abbey where they found Sir Gilimond deep in thought. Pleased the groups completed their missions so quickly, Sir Gilimond asked if they would be willing to continue in their aide to Lord Brittish. All present gave a resounding Aye! Praising the groups for their courage, Sir Gilimond dispatched one group to the depths of the dungeon Hyloth and the other to the wilds of Titan Valley. Both groups fought valiantly and soon returned to the Abbey once again. Sir Gilimond was growing concerned that the task may be too difficult as he watched these brave men and women of KoB enter the Abbey battered and bruised. As they sat before him he contemplated calling an end to this mission. His heart soared as he listened to the excitement in their voices retelling tales of their battles.

The skies grew darker into night, as Sir Gilimond gave the groups one final task, one group was sent to the depths of Despise dungeon and the other was sent to Covetous for the evil was growing there once again. Pride overflowed as the groups, worked as one in completing their final tasks. Each member knowing they were protecting our lands from the evils that were growing. Returning to the Abbey triumphant, the groups were tired and worn, but exhilarated all at once. Sir Gilimond expressed his gratitude for the bravery and courage that abounds within KoB. He thanked each member individually as each was presented a reward in the name of Lord Brittish. The members of KoB returned to their home, the KoB tower rich with tradition and honor, sharing with one another the victories that befell them this night. No one seemed to notice sitting quietly in the corner thrones Mystic Rose and Kal’Ferin as they looked at their fellow brothers and sisters with pride, knowing they made the right decision directing Sir Gilimond to the KoB tower all those hours ago.

It was late at night on a Saturday, and things were looking up for the True Britannians. The Trinsic Sigil had already been purified, but the 7 other sigils were still in the process. If the other factions broke through the defenses and stole one or more of the sigils, it could spell disaster for the war effort.

As the night pressed on, the defenders at Castle Britain grew more and more weary. At this rate, would there be enough soldiers to defend the castle and its the prescious sigils within? Though morale was high, everyone admitted that a devestating assult was still a distinct possibility.

Meanwhile in the New World of Trammel, word of the predicament reached the Trinsic Headquarters of the Royal Britannian Kilted Police (a division of the renowned Royal Knights of Britannia). It was decided that if these brave soldiers were going to risk their lives defending the old world, it would only be fitting for those who moved to the new world to show their appreciation and support.

Lumberjacks swarmed the local forests, harvesting quantites of wood. Carpenters honed the wood into several hundred boxes, globes, and chests. It was thought that these might be the building blocks of temporary fortresses.

And so the caravan came through the Facet Gate. Pack horse and Pack llama alike, with Commissoner Alec DeLeon, Deputy Commmissioner Branwen, and Senior Constable Luke to protect them.

The soldiers of the castle were relieved to see the new supplies, and soon took to constructing barricades the likes of which have never been seen before or since. Unneccesary portions of the castle were blocked off, and the gates were barricaded.

Would the True Britannians have succeeded in their quest had the Kilted Police and Knights of Britannia assisted them? It's likely they would have, nevertheless this gesture demonstrates the feelings and intentions of many of us in the New World. though our fates lie along different paths, we support our Feluccan bretheren in their great crusade.

Best Wishes to the Stalwart Soldiers,
and Long Live Lord British!

Commissioner Alec DeLeon,
Royal Britannian Kilted Police

Dear Citizens,

I pen this to you today with a heavy heart. As you may know some time ago, I was stricken with a disease that afflicted many mages. Fortunately a cure was found very quickly and given to me. But still, so many more where not as lucky as I, and did not receive the cure in time. My bones still are weak, and my mind sometimes cloudy. I feel the wickedness of the land about me, and I feel it grows yet still. This virus of the mad mages is linked to the rise of the Empire of Armageddon. I feel it has been put upon my heart to call out to you folks to gather yeaselves fast. I see that several of you are doing what you can to stand up for your lands. But the Empire cannot be stopped by a handful of groups working separately. This must be an effort by all, working together. We must work quickly; they are amassing more each day. And they lay claim to one city already!! I ask ye to rally your brethren, speak with them, and join together to stop the Empire of Armageddon from successfully destroying all that we hold sacred. Please send me word by flight of your pigeon to 136182854. We must move swiftly!

Yours in honor,
Katlyn Dubois

From General Nero, OSS:

Inside Castle Britannia, General Nero, the commander of the True Britannian forces gathered with his officers and fellow knights, awaiting the final confirmation of earlier reports from the cities where the True Britannians were mounting attacks. The tensions ran high as the group of devoted Britannians awaited the news. But it was taking too long... a scout should have brought a conclusive report an hour ago and it was beginning to look bleak. Then young Judah Ben Hur, one of the sentries of the Order of the Silver Serpent burst into the war chambers, and without waiting to catch his breath he began to speak excitedly, "General! The mages overseeing the return of the sigil stones to the cities have all confirmed the reports from our scouts. Victory is ours in Britain, Delucia, Magincia, Moonglow, Minoc, Trinsic, Skara Brae, and Yew. Complete victory, sir!" A few minutes later the celebration in Castle Britannia was in full swing. Warriors cheered and mages rejoiced, as word came in from all the cities of victories from the True Britannian forces. Decisive victories against enemy troops were reported every few minutes. The enchantment of the city sigil stones had purged the cities of all evil influences. Enemy faction soldiers were retreating into the countryside and their strongholds. Months of planning and intelligence gathering had been put into effect, and after two weeks of fierce battle the True Britannians had liberated all the cities of Old Britannia from the forces of darkness and discent. Inside once again, General Nero, the commander of the True Britannian forces and his second in command, Captain Stephen of the Order of the Silver Serpent prepared to go outside and congradulate the fighters. "General, the war goes better than we had hoped... perhaps now with the enemy factions being dealt with, we will be able to deal with the situation in Nujel'm?" "Aye, Stephen, the Empire will pay for it's crimes, just as the Shadowlords, Minax and the Mage Council have. It is only a matter of time... but today we rest.", replied the old knight as he prepared his war steed to exit the castle and greet his fellow warriors in the front courtyard, who were already celebrating. As Nero mounted upon his horse, Stephen began to speak once again, "I hear the drow have set their sights upon Minoc, General... shall I prepare the troops?" Nero did not answer the question, but instead told him to come outside, for now was a time for celebration. More officers joined them on the way out, and all through the corridors of the castle and the City of Britain the call of victory was heard from soldier and civilian alike. "Long live Britannia!" "Long live the King!"

Hail Readers!

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From Nivak Aldrick:

Hail, Hail and Hoozahs! Come one and come all to the Trinsic Craft Fair. Trinsic Craft Fair Trinsic Virtue Guards, TvG, will be hosting the Trinsic Craft Fair on Saturday, October 20th, from 5-7pm under the Central Skies. We'll use the facilities at the Shining Path Armory in Trinsic (90o 26'S 40o13'E) on the SW side of town. GM crafters will be on site to make weapons, iron and leather armor, arcane clothes (with your gems), and other supplies. Most materials will be supplied or bring your own to donate. Our members can also answer adventuring questions and help newer players with their characters. Gates and runes will be available from several city banks throughout the evening, so come on out and join the fun! Visit our website at www.trinsicguards.com to learn more about the event, and about our guild. See you Saturday! Trinsic Virtue Guards "Let the Virtues Guide You..."

From White Lotus:

Report on The Resource Gathering To say *Thank You* is such an understatement. Monday night's Resource Gathering was a grand success. First for the good news: We have collected tons of resources for the Good Force. People responded far above and beyond any expectation we had. As I went from city to city just checking to make sure that there were gates for everyone, I was approached by a gentleman named Plato. He said to me, "Sorry, this all I have for now. I am only 3 weeks old, but am so excited to be able to help in this effort." He gave me 50 feathers, 100 shafts, and assorted regs he had picked up. We have two houses filled to the rooftops with the resources collected by citizens of Britannia. The next step is to convert these resources into items of war. The GM craftsmen that responded to my call for help will be busy soon. My special thanks to NOV, ASE,RMB and LHC for providing gaters. Tiera of LHC stayed at the Trammel supply depot to help put resources away. Hera of LHC was a big help also. Anya of LHC worked hard in Felucca gating people and putting resources away in Felucca supply depot. So many to thank....If I missed anyone, I apologize. So much was going on and I hope I didn't exclude anyone. Now for the bad news: Monday night as I was in the Moonglow Bank awaiting someone who needed a gate to supply depot, I felt the gaze of many eyes boring into my back. I turned around and saw members of the guild S*E standing there. Sighing to myself, I tried to ignore them. But after several taunts, I let loose a few of my own. I finally told them that I had work to do and rode away. I gated a few people and decided to return to the supply depot to check. Stopping in Skara first, I was approached by Avalon of CvN and Elrond. We stood in the street near the bank and discussed the ongoing events concerning EOA. I suggested that we go to the supply depot so they could see how the effort was going. Soon after we arrived, a blue gate opened in front of us. S*E had followed us there. More taunts, threats and words of war occured. For whatever reason, fighting broke out between Avalon and S*E members. We stood and watched as spells flew thru the air, bodies fell and at the last, Avalon stood alone, bloodied but alive. That was only the beginning. Last night as a group of people from some of the guilds involved in the defense and patrolling of the cities stood in Moonglow discussing pro and cons, Raistlin, Arch-mage leader of EOA rode by. He stopped and came back to where we stood. After the usual greetings, he looked around and snickered. "Are these part of the force that shall die at the hands of EOA?", he taunted. The people there stared him down. Kata, GM of NOV told him that his days were numbered. Someone shouted, *Freedom above all*. I saw his face harden and his fearful eyes glare at us. A member of BDA appeared beside him and offered his opinion on how we would die. The atmosphere around us was charged with threats of war. I noticed we had gathered a crowd. Among them were several who walked the fine line between *good* and *evil*. Where would they be when the attacks started? Watching as Raistlin removed his mail glove, and raising it, he threw it at my feet. "The glove of war has been thrown', he shouted at us. Stunned, I knew not what to do. Valhalla of Nov strode forward and picked up the glove, threw it back at Raistlin and proudly stated, "Pray to whatever Gods you worship, as the next time you see us it will be as the mists of death cloud your eyes and your last breath escapes from your dying body." Raistlin hissed back, "Good death to you all, as you are lead into a hell from which you will not return". He rode away but turned to look back and his smile was like a kiss of death. I patiently wait for Nero or Ryu to ready the forces of Good. Soon the drums of war will beat loudly. Soon warriors and mages shall meet in the cities. EOA will not rest til all honest citizens of Britannia are either dead or enslaved. May the Gods protect us all................

From Aureal Glimmermoon:

Aureal wiped blood off her face and tried to get some off her clothes as she looked around her. The Highland Guard had managed to push back the followers of Mondain, but they took alot of causalities themselves. Her comrade Atom Ant rode up next to her grinning, he had been waiting for these days to come and he was enjoying it. She smiled back then looked over the field one more time. Their job was finished, the Highland Guard had only hired them for this battle, she was not sure if she would be working with or against them next time, only time would tell. "Shall we leave since we are no longer needed?" Atom asked her and she nodded slowly to him. "This is the beginning, for now we will take the jobs offered until we find the path we are looking for." She chanted arcane words while tracing a doorway with her finger and the gateway opened. He nodded and walked through, she nodded to the leader of the Highland Guard and vanished through the gate. She felt she would Receive a pigeon quite soon with another offer...

A passage from the Archives of the Sisters...

Last night in an act of great mercy on the part of the Sisters, we descended onto the Gathering, a small force intent on supplying the self-proclaimed Sosarian Peace Coalition. Armed with pamphlets of truth, knowledge, and perhaps a charm or two, the masses needed to hear our truthful tale of freedom and honesty. Of course presented in a palatable format of the masses.
We first find such a group at the Moonglow Bank in Trammel. There we find the leader of this resource gathering expedition, White Lotus. Oh yes, such an interesting verbal assault by the side of 'honor' and 'justice' that we have never witnessed! Calling us Witches and how our blood will drip in the streets and our flesh shall rot, still hanging from our bones. Such insults from a Lady! Well hehe that first one was true....But nevertheless....we had better bring ear wax in the future.

Next, in our quest to educate the masses on the right and just method of goods procurement, we travel to the resource Silo itself. Ahhh, the home of White Lotus herself! We keep passing out our tomes of truth in our tireless attempt to give the People of Britannia a way to know right and wrong, and of course preaching the wisdom of Magick and the Empire to all that listen. (errr Forcibly or not)
Our esteemed High Enchantress could not be present for the festivities this night, but her sister, Andariel Rianne, sent away when Leshyani was in the Knights of Britannia( ewww how sickening...) hath been returned to us! Even though she seemed kinda ummm dazed by all the excitement, she caught on to the true way of Magick rather fast.
Well... after all of the hysteria and such from such a obvious good deed, a bystander seemed to take offense to these events, and well I suppose his honor is in question as noted in this drawing...

Well of course several fine Warriors of the Sisterhood had to stand up to such a challenge, but nevertheless we were cursed this night and had to make a hasty exit from the land of the 'Good'.
Many thanks to all those who came to listen to the Word of the Empire and the Sisters. May you have listened to our message well.... But if not, then we shall see you soon. And as we are known Dream Walkers, prolly much sooner than later...*giggles*

Brianna Lavendar, Scribe to the Sisters of Enchantment

From Aureal Glimmermoon:

Aureal walked down a street in the city of Trinsic, it was not as busy as it once was so long ago. She turned a corner and headed down an alley where she always met her friend. She stopped and leaned against the wall in the small alley "So any news yet?" she asked. The shadows moved slowly and silently as a hooded figure appeared. "Not really, the Empire is debating, they still have not sent word about us being accepted into the Empire. I believe now is the time to make a move on your own, there is no need for the power of the Empire being behind you. The more victories you win, the more the people will notice and come to you." Aureal nodded slowly and looked up into the sky. "Then the time has come, has it? I will send out pigeons of war then. We will see if they are accepted. Until we are called for battle, we will bide our time." the figure nodded and faded into the shadows as Aureal left the alleyway. "People will respect the Band of the Hawk very soon..." http://frontpage.home.net/majinraditz/hawk.htm

From the BNN:

The dark chambers of the Master brightened to a dull blue glow as a moongate shimmered into existence on the far side of the room. The outline of a figure in an enshrouding pitch-black cloak turned to watch one of the controllers stumble through the gate, clutching his leg through the tatters of his arcane robe.

“Report, Phoseph,” the voice of the master rasped from the shadowed corners of the room.

Phoseph struggled to remain standing as he wiped the encrusted blood from his hands on the frayed edges of his cloak. “We found a tunnel, Master. It must be where the outsiders are coming from.”

From the moongate, the heavy sound of a golem’s footsteps echoed and creaked like a cart of ore falling over. As it emerged from the moongate, it walked with a strange stumble, pausing between each step. Gears and rods could be seen turning under the ripped outer shell of the clockwork creature like muscles under torn flesh. In its massive arms it held a dead gargoyle, which it tossed to the floor with a careless thud. The moongate dissipated and vanished.

The dark cloaked stranger stepped forward and silently contemplated the corpse. “The renegades.”

“A patrol went through the area of the tunnel before it was finished and captured a group of the renegades there. We believe this one stayed hidden until they left, then continued the work on his own.” Phoseph grimaced at the stabbing pain in his leg. He could see his blood pooling on the floor around his foot, but continued with his report. “When we discovered his body, a group of the outsiders surprised us and attacked. The others in my party were killed and their golems were destroyed. This one will have to be repaired.”

As if in reply, a rapid ticking noise started echoing from the golem, growing louder and louder until it was almost deafening. It stopped suddenly, and the mechanical behemoth fell forward at the waist and crashed to the floor like a pile of pots and pans. The head rolled across the cold stone and stopped beside Phoseph. “We can use this one for parts, my Lord.”

The figure examined the remains of the golem for a few moments. Its armor looked as though it had been slashed by thousands of cuts. “Blade spirits.”

Phoseph nodded. “The outsiders know how to cast them. With our current construction plans, the golems’ armor can’t take the assault for long.”

“Unacceptable.” The cloaked one boomed. “If the golems cannot withstand a common blade spirit, they will be worthless in defending the city. I know the outsiders; they will send more mages as word of this weakness spreads. If the city is left undefended, we will lose more workers. Begin adapting the golems immediately.”

Phoseph bowed his head and spoke slowly. “My Lord, forgive me, I do not wish to question your wisdom, but… I believe if we use more of our supplies to enhance the golems, we will not have enough left to construct a defense force for the city. The enslaved gargoyles grow fewer in number with each outsider attack. Without them we will not be able to gather enough raw materials to continue construction.”

“Do as he has ordered, Phoseph.” The voice of the Master rasped from the darkest shadows of the chamber as the tiny lights around the room glowed briefly. “Use what materials are needed and enhance the golems to dispel summoned creatures. We have other ways of defending the city.”

The dark figure turned towards the voice. “What do you propose?”

“Phoseph, you are to gather one group of the workers and take them to the small chambers in the production center. Remove their chains.”

“Master? Remove their chains?” Phoseph stumbled and gasped in pain before regaining his composure. He did his best to ignore the pain in his leg but knew that if he kept bleeding much longer he would likely pass out. “The chains block their use of magic, Master; you told us they were never to be removed, and to kill on sight any worker not in chains to be safe.”

“The workers will need to use magic to defend the city, Phoseph,” the Master droned.

The cloaked form slowly spoke as he silently paced the room. “It is risky, but that could be quite effective against the humans…”

“The workers?” Phoseph spoke in shock as he slipped in the small puddle of blood around his foot, almost losing his balance. “They are not strong enough to hold back the outsiders, Master, even with their spells.”

The dark figure flew across the room towards Phoseph and an arm shot out, backhanding the controller to the floor. Through the lights dancing across his vision, he could see his Lord standing above him in stillness. “You have offered enough of your opinion, Phoseph. I would suggest you offer no more.” Phoseph noticed the drops of crimson on the cloaked one’s hand and could feel a trickle of warm blood running down his chin from the blow.

“Go now,” said the cloaked figure. “Prepare the workers so that the city will be defended.” The figure began to turn towards the Master’s voice again but stopped for a brief moment, glimpsing at the blood on its hand in amusement. “And, Phoseph, have your wounds tended to. You seem to be bleeding.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Phoseph said through clenched teeth. He stumbled his way out of the chamber, leaving lone footprints of blood behind him.

As soon as he was gone, the figure in the black cloak spoke again. “Are you sure this is wise, enhancing the gargoyle workers? Giving them so much power could be dangerous. They are so weak right now they may not survive the procedure.”

“We can afford to lose some to experimentation. Those that die during the procedure will provide valuable information. Although I think you would agree that the process has reached near perfection.” The sounds of clicks and whirring increased for a moment.

The dark figure stood, unmoving. “Indeed.”

The Master continued. “Enhancing the gargoyles will make them powerful enough to deal with the humans in the city. So long as our chambers are not discovered, my control of their minds will remain absolute. Adapting the golems will make the attacks on Britannia more effective. Victory is still probable.”

“That may be,” said the figure, his cloak flowing around him as he turned, “but I will not be satisfied until it is absolute.”

This past Tuesday night another episode of Deadly Link occured. The Coven of the Secret Shadow and the Sisters of Enchantment thank all that came out to see Mordain present Ariyana with a check for the instance that happened at the last game with the kidnapping of Dugald of KET halfway thru the game, the wonderful game itself and the fun activities as the host was killed by the angry executioners.

The contestants were:
Ivy's Thieves: Poison Ivy, Jelly, and Fred Flinstone
and
Lost Horizon Community: Aricia DeLong, Jon von Darkmoor, and Bladestorm

It was a heated battle, but finally it all came down to Jon and Ivy left. And in a stellar show of intelligence and wits, Jon lost leaving Poison Ivy's group the winner of 100k, provided by the Temple of Mondain and the regular prizes of money from correct questions answered and gm armor for each participant on the winning side.
Remember to come out next month to find out one again......
Who is ..the DEADLY LINK????

Ariyana Sune of Cvn and Leshyani Rianne of S*E

Did you ever wonder why the Opening Sequence for Ultima Online: Reniassance is so out of place? Did you ever wonder about those giant tanker-sized holes in the fiction? Well, as you may or may not have known the game that you and I know as Ultima 9 was not always so. As a matter of fact, its not even close to what was originally planned.

The Hansonian Institute has acquired a synopsis of the Original Plot, as written by Bob White, one of the original developers of the game. It reveals the intended Destiny of the Avatar, and its ending is quite a bit more spine-tingling than the one depicted in the game.

You can see it for yourself at the The Hansonian Institute

As to that Ultima Online: Reniassance starting sequence. The Sequence where Minax is Tormenting Lord British is not Minax at all, it was originally the Guardian. The video is a mish-mash of deleted Scenes from Ultima 9. The voices were re-dubbed and re-edited.

A message from White Lotus:

The time has come for every able bodied citizen of Britannia to come to the aid of the land. Evil lurks just around the corner. Soon the cities of Britannia, both facets, will be under attack from the cruel armies of The Empire of Armegeddon. We have a choice to make. Either sit idly by and let them take over, or we all fight back. I realize that some of us are not fighters. But you all can help. Even the newest arrival to our fair land can help. I am calling all of you to help aid us fight this evil in a unique way. I would ask you all to help gather resources that will be used to make supplies for the armies that will defend our cities from EOA. How will we do this?? Monday, October 15th will be designated as *Resource Gathering* Day. Go out and gather wood for shafts, feathers for arrows, wool for cloth to make bandages, ore to be made into ingots, gather hides for leather armor, even take a walk thru the woods and gather regs for spells. Anyone can do this....it costs you nothing but time. Monday evening beginning at 7 PM CST, there will be people at all banks in both facets who will gate you to the proper supply depot to deposit your gatherings. This isn't much to ask of those of you who do not wish to see the cities of Britannia taken by EOA. Bring your resources to any bank in either facet and look for people who will gate you to the supply places. The second part of this Call for Aid, is to all GM craftspeople. We need your talent to use these resources to make supplies for the army of defenders. If you would like to help, please feel free to contact me at 30624507 and get the details of when and where you can go to help. It is time we all banded together to defeat EOA, whether it be by gathering resources or by helping our forces to defend the cities. I need not tell you what will happen if we fail to defend the cities. I leave that choice up to each and all of you. Time is of an essence.........They are ready to strike......Will we be prepared??? May the Gods protect us all White Lotus

Ever been PK'd by someone in Black Company (B*C)? Ever wonder what its like to run a huge guild? Wanna know what it takes to keep a guild alive for a long time? Come see the *LIVE* IRC interview with Sir Bart, GM of B*C; one of Great Lakes longest running guilds. #GLRPC will be hosting this interview Friday night, October 12th at 8:00pm EST. The Interview will be held in the channel #RPCI on the Stratics IRC Network. Our interviewer will be Noleeens. Please join us in picking the mind of the man that runs one of GLs most notorious PvP guilds. Hope to see you there!

The Daily Herald is Great Lakes premier news service. We don't compete with other news services, we provide news to everyone. With such a liberal attitude, I've had many people ask me "Why should I use the Herald?".

When you submit your news to The Daily Herald, your submission is sent to all of the other news sites on our list. When one of our reporters recieves your submission, it is posted to the Herald's main site. At this point, the news is sent to our E-mail subscribers which includes the news services again. We do our best to make sure that every news article is posted as soon as it is recieved, though it is not always possible. News items are usually posted within 5 hours of your submission.

In the near future, look for reader polls, a Community Link Exchange, and even more news!

The 5 Guarantees

It is for you, the reader that we announce the 5 Guarantees:

From Gem:

FCB Officers Flagg and Juntu eyed Jeremiah carefully. The new fisher was assigned to greet guests to the Fishing Council of Britannia Tower. "Well, he don't seem to be such a prize to me, Flagg," Juntu mumbled. Upon hearing the word "prize" Jeremiah perked up and began speaking, "Glory be, that sounds like a clue," exclaimed Flagg, "You know, Gem said she was thinking of starting a new game for our visitors, do you think this could be a part of it?" Juntu smiled, "Maybe we should just read this book sitting by his side. Jeremiah seems to have a limited vocabulary." "Aye," replied Flagg, "I've seen it happen to many a poor fisher, too many hours in the hot baking sun wit' nuthin' but a few serpents to speak to all day…" Speak to Jeremiah, the greeter at the FCB Tower. At least once per week, one of the FCB vendors will have a very valuable item hidden amongst its wares--for the price of 10 gold…or maybe even free! It may be an SOS bottle, a fishing net, a set of exceptional armor, a treasure map, or a set of arcane clothing… To keep it more fun, we will update on a random schedule….so keep visiting the FCB tower…and shopping at our fine vendors. You can buy your Kyra's home tour runes there as well. We're in trammel just south of the big guard tower. A map to the tower can be found at: http://www.thefcb.com/greatlakes/tower.html

from Ryunosuke Kyatto Ninden Teyande:

Sitting in the Holy Cross Defender's Tower, Ryunosuke Kyatto Ninden Teyande communes to the Elder Knights through prayer. "It seems that the Empire of Armageddon is threatening the execution of Sir EdGuardo and as the most prominent Holy Cross Defender in Britannia second to Sir EdGuardo himself, I feel I must act. However motivation without wisdom is like a bout without a rudder, that is why I come to you for advise. The unlawful imprisonment and execution a Knight of the Holy Cross is an act of war to the Holy Cross Defenders....no...the Crown of Lord British." The Knight's only reply is, "You must decide what to do on your own." So Ryunosuke Kyatto Ninden Teyande walks into the throne rome and posts the message on the backrest of the throne of Nujelm Palace. "This is to the Leaders of the Empire of Armageddon. If you do not release Sir EdGuardo and Antonious Mestro without harm within 72 hours, then this will be considered an act of war and will be dealt with as such. I have spoken with General Nero of Tenebrea and Sparhawk of the Royal Knights of Redeption and they stand as allies with us. This is your warning." As Ryu recalls out of the City of Corruption, he leaves behind a note stuck in the back of the throne with a dagger.

"Velturus and Caleb are interrogating them as we speak, Archmage," Mordain's voice was cold as steel as he sipped wine from a goblet at a desk in the library of the Nujel'm Palace.

His feet were resting lightly on the pillow cushion of a high backed chair as he watched the Archmage pace back and forth in deepening thought. Raistlin's black hair glistened in the torchlight, and the shadows clung to his clothing, bathing him in a darkness that seemed to be an invasion of the night itself. Growing ever impatient for an answer, Mordain looked out the window at the moon of Felucca, attempting to guage the time. Raistlin seemed to notice and stopped his pacing.

"Have they given us anything to go on?" he asked, turning to face the Prophet of Mondain in his chair.

"EdGuardo has uttered the usual nonsensical babble about Dragon Knights and silver serpents," Mordain grinned slyly, but then his grin slid off into a quick grimace, "But neither of them have given us any indication of what the crown does or doesn't know about the Empire."

"What about the location where EdGuardo was taken prisoner?" the Archmage asked, beginning to pace once again in his seemingly catatonic state of contemplation.

"Ed has not told us why he was in that location, and he has not told us how he got there," Mordain took another sip of wine before continuing, "But from what we were able to gather at the scene, there were bodies of cultists from the Followers of Armageddon nearby."

The Archmage shook his head.

"Why must these fools always be so uncooperative?"

Mordain chuckled slightly, watching the Archmage continue to pace.

"Will you be making a decision tonight, Archmage? Or should I retire to the Temple to my own devices?"

Raistlin stopped and turned toward Mordain again.

"No.. I would like for you to dictate a letter to one of our courriers please."

Mordain nodded.

"Tell General Nero that EdGuardo and Antonious Mestro are being held captive in Nujel'm Prison. Tell him that if he wants them to be returned to him safely, he will turn over the body of Basil Stag Hare to us. If he does not, it will be considered an act of war, and both EdGuardo and Antonious will be executed as prisoners of war.

"Even Nero would not be so foolhardy as to invade Nujel'm. This I am sure of... Tell him this is his only option. Answer our call peacefully, or the execution will take place, and he must be prepared to reap the wrath of the armies of darkness."

Mordain nodded, grinning.

"Nero will not take too kindly to such demands from you, Archmage."

Raistlin turned to Mordain, his eyes flashing dangerously in the torchlight. Mordain felt his soul fill up with an urgent cry for battle, stirred by the passion and anger he could see in the Archmage's eyes.

"Nero will turn over the body of my mentor, a body that we need for study... a body that was removed from its resting place and defiled by those fools at the Lycaeum! He will turn over the body or he will spell out the doom of Sosaria! It is up to him to decide if we are at peace or at war!"

Nodding to the Archmage and excusing himself, Mordain left through the gardens of the palace, heading toward the ghettoes on the western edge of the island, and the moongate that would take him home. The battle rage still filled him.. he felt as though he would like to be the one to deliver the message of doom to Nero himself. He wanted to see the look on the General's face when he found out that the tide of darkness was coming for him.

"Sosaria is ours!" he exclaimed into the night air.

Still driven with inspiration, he continued home to the Temple to find a scribe to draft the letter

Reprinted with permission from BNN:

The frustrated gargoyle threw the broken pickax against the tunnel wall, not caring who heard the sound. He had been digging for over three days now, and his strength, like the pickax, was exhausted. He slumped against the tunnel wall and tried to calm himself.

As he stared blankly at the floor, his thoughts turned to those he had left behind. They were good beings who did not deserve their fate. Life had been like this for as long as he could remember. Only the eldest of the gargoyles remembered the time before the conquering. Those stories almost sounded like a child’s tale now, the very idea of a free life so far beyond his comprehension.

There was no such thing, he thought bitterly, only those with power can truly be free. He cursed immediately for even thinking that way and punched his hand into his open palm. No! There had to be a way to reclaim their home. He would not let his kind live like this.

There were others, he knew, digging like him. Hoping to find a way out. Hoping to find help. They had overheard the controller’s talk of fighting an enemy, and the few gargoyles who had evaded capture figured that any enemy of these foul beasts might be an ally to the gargoyles. But they had also learned how gargoyles in these other lands were perceived… as monsters to be slaughtered for treasure and fame. They had no choice, though. Something had to be done, and this was the last hope.

The leaders had organized small bands of gargoyles to dig in specific locations, hoping to find a way through the seemingly infinite expanse of mountains. Despite their strong wings, no gargoyle could fly high enough to break past the impossibly high peaks. Those few that tried had never returned. The gargoyles sometimes hoped that maybe one had made it across, but they all knew better. The mountain winds had claimed them, but at least now they were free. The gargoyle allowed himself a small smile and said a silent prayer for those brave, if foolhardy, friends.

He remembered his other friends, the four who had been digging with him only a few days ago. They had been caught by the controllers, but thankfully the master’s lackeys had not found the cave entrance. The gargoyle knew what fate awaited them and shuddered at the thought. They were probably already back in the city, no doubt unaware of who they were or what they stood for. The lackeys were efficient with their work. No gargoyle who had been “re-educated”, as they called it, had ever been restored to his previous state. They were now warriors in the army of the controllers, willing and ready to obey any command, and ready to kill another gargoyle without a moment’s remorse.

The ultimate insult to the pride of a gargoyle, he thought bitterly.

But that pride had to be swallowed in times such as this. The gargoyles had tried many times to retake their city, but once the mages began using their own kin against them, the battles gained the gargoyles nothing. The gargoyle grimaced as he recalled the last battle, remembering the revulsion he had felt as he’d personally slain three of his own kin. He knew he had been given no choice, that his fellow gargoyles had been beyond help, that he had done the only thing he could have to save them from their torment. But still it pained and angered him.

He pictured the controllers, living in the once proud gargoyle city as if it was their own home, and his anger intensified. That city, with its sweeping staircases, beautifully carved stone, marble paths, and impressive towers should belong to the gargoyles, not these foul creatures. He had never known the city as his true home, having grown up in the wilderness, constantly hiding from capture. But in his heart, in his soul, he knew that that wondrous city was where he and his kin were meant to live.

Picturing his own kin in chains, the once beautiful city infested with red robed mages, and what was left of the proud gargoyle race reduced to mindless drones for the one they called the master, was more than he could bear. The gargoyle stood and pounded his fist powerfully into the wall where he had been digging. He jumped back as he heard the stones groan suddenly, and then had to shield his eyes as the wall fell away, opening into the bright sunlight. The gargoyle stood staring, stupefied, at the new entrance to his once forgotten land, too many emotions filling him to make another move.

The tunnel was complete. But would help arrive?

Late December is a quiet period for the city of Nujel'm. The nobles and
aristocrats who normally line its sandy beaches have long since gone home to
the normal hustle and bustle of Britannian life. The sparkling diamond that
is the city of Pleasure shows its true colors during this period. The poor
and homeless grow sick and weary, the ghettos are lined with the diseased
and dying, and the ancient graveyard hidden from the tourist's eye stretches
even further. Underneath the beautiful marble exterior Nujel'm is indeed
awash with corruption. Long ago the Royal family of Nujel'm had forsaken
the protection and rule of the Crown, and so, left alone they began to
accumulate a massive wealth from taxes on the merchants and workers in the
bazaars of the city streets. Those who work their fingers to the bone
throughout the tourist season find themselves no better off when the winter
comes. The walls of the palace and the gardens around it grow brighter and
bolder each passing day, while the rest of the city begins to fall into
ruin.

But the corruption opened a weakness in the city that none could have
foreseen. And that weakness was its downfall. On the eve of the winter
Solstice, as the sun began to sink in the west, casting millions of fingers
of stretching shadow onto the proud sandstone walls and spiraling brick
streets, the fate of Nujel'm was sealed.

The guards, having been paid off, remained silent at their posts as dark
figures began scouring the deadly quiet city streets. All the citizens had
been ushered home before dark and given word that they should remain there
through the evening. A fleet of ships appeared on the horizon moving at
great speed into port, and once arriving, an army of passengers began to
disembark. Lining up in columns, the troops mixed with humans, drow, and
vampires made their way up the main brick street to the gates of the palace.
There they stopped, and parted in the center to allow a procession of
prominent well dressed beings to pass through and line up on the steps of
the palace. The figures that had been searching the streets came to take
their place among the procession, whispering that the city was clear.

A young mage, with pale white skin and long black hair stepped toward the
door of the palace, and flung it open. The procession of the prominent
beings continued inside the palace, leaving the army behind at the gates.
Servants inside bowed to the members of the procession as they continued
through the palace to the steps where the Royal family of Nujel'm awaited
their arrival. Smiles lit up the Royals' faces as the group approached,
lead by the young mage, but the smiles soon disappeared. Words of power
boomed through the halls of the palace as one by one the Royal family was
slaughtered. What rewards they had been promised for their docile
acceptance of these hostile strangers could not be guessed.

The rest of the army was ushered inside the walls of the palace, coming to
stand together around the balcony and among the benches of the great lobby
of Nujel'm Palace. The young mage laid a scroll on the altar at the top of
the steps in the lobby, and turned to the procession with him. One by one
the beings wrote their names with pens dipped in the blood of the Royal
family on the parchment, and one by one they came to stand beside the young
mage, facing the armies awaiting their words.

Stepping forward the young mage held the scroll high above his head for the
armies to see, and they cheered at the sight. The names written in blood
stood even from that great distance.

Mordain and Bile of the Temple of Mondain.
Alur'Cha and Velturus of the house of Viaxus.
Lord Caleb and Silvaria of the Bregan D'Aerth.
Pepper and Leshyani Rianne of the Sisters of Enchantment.
Ramirez and Raistlin of the Cult of the Black Dragon.

The young mage, Raistlin, laid the scroll down on the altar once again, and
turned back to face the armies.

"Nujel'm stood as a personification of the faithless, pitiful, pointless
lives that the masses of Britannia live out each day. We have crushed
Nujel'm as we will crush all who threaten to poison this land. Lloth wills
it. Mondain wills it. The Black One wills it!!"

There were cheers from the troops as the drow and human conclave of mages
grinned at one another. The Empire of Armageddon was secure; behind it's
Archmage Raistlin, and the Imperial Council of Mages who had signed their
names to the charter. Nujel'm stood as a fortified camp for the armies of
darkness, untouchable, undeniably lost.

As the moon grew bright over the city once known as the city of Pleasure,
the black of night descended on the palace walls. The marble lost its
luster. A shout reverberated through the city streets.

"Today Nujel'm!! Tomorrow Britain!!"

Thus was born, the city of Darkness.

From Jon Von Darkmoor:

Pulling the stubborn weed out of her garden, she straightens up and rubs her shoulders. Squinting into the sun, letting it's rays warm her face, she feels the nip of Autumn in the air. Soon the crops will be picked. The harvest this year should be bountiful. Walking to the pillow nook on her patio, she settles in. Burrowing deeper into the pile of fluffy pillows, she smiles and relaxes. The bees drone as they flit by.....the music of water hitting the rocks in the fountain..... Gazing upwards, she watches the big white clouds float soundlessly in the dazzling azure sky. "Life is good", she says to no one in particular. Craning her neck to the east, she waves to her neighbors. Valhalla and Thor of NoV wave back and go inside their house. She had forgotten the simple pleasures of life and was enjoying the freedom of being answerable only to herself. Having traveled the land for the past few months had given her a new prospective on life in Britannia. So many good people. She had made many new friends. Crawling out of the pillow pile, she heads across the patio and to the door of her house. Straightening pillows as she walks thru the house, she arrives at the kitchen. "What will I make for dinner tonight", she ponders. Glancing out the window, she sees a pigeon has arrived with a message. Reaching into the coop,she removes the tattered rolled paper from its leg. Sitting at her table, she unrolls the paper and begins to read the message.A sharp intake of breath fills the room. "Damn it, I should have known this would happen", she softly says. "They never learn." Re-reading the message once more, she knows this time it is for real. Evil has joined together in an alliance named *Empire of Armegeddon*. They planned to take over Britannia, city by city. Shaking her head, she smoothed the paper and laid it on the table. "Oh well,not my concern anymore", she told herself. As she washed and chopped up the fresh vegetables for dinner, she reminded herself again and again, "Stay out of it". The reminders of wars fought were still fresh in her memory. Friends lost....smoke-filled air.....horrendous sights of mangled bodies....the cry of the wounded...the helpless feeling of watching a nightmare unfold. And yet, there were no regrets. Opening the door, she walked out to see the view from her house. Being close to Trinsic, she wondered aloud whether it would be safe from these evil beings. Night was falling, the birds were silent and the wind was picking up. Fallen leaves blew in circles at her feet. How long til the flames and smoke could be seen from here? How long til the first warriors come past dripping blood and holding each other upright? This is my world. This is the world of all Britainians. Shall we allow EOA to take what is ours? Will we lie down and be subjugated by ruthless killers of innocents? Sitting on the grass, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out the message she received. Sighing loudly, she asks the sky, "Give me a sign that I am truly needed." Laughing loudly,she gets up and turns to go inside. A hind stands on the porch. Placid and unmoving. She bends to pet the soft head and hears a soft voice say *They need you.* Looking around from side to side, she sees no one around. Gazing into the eyes of the hind, she sees herself reflected. Bowing her head, she goes inside and sits at her desk. With quill in hand she writes her message to the Britainians: Once more we are faced with a tough decision. Do we fight with our live's blood or sit idly by and let EOA destroy all we have worked for? I know we are not all warriors and powerful mages. But everyone has something to give to free Britainnia of this evil. Cities be prepared to defend. Guilds be ready to help defend the city you call home. Those who can not fight,be ready to help in other ways. Together we can keep EOA from taking our cities and homes. Heed my words, I know from experience, they are powerful. No one person or guild can stand against them. I am told that Nero of OSS is gathering troops. Don't let them do this to us. Signing the missive, she sends it out to be carried all over the land. Watching the pigeon fly over head and turn towards Trinsic, she straightened her shoulders, and walked to the patio to once more flop into the pillow nook and needing the feeling of security, she huddled deep into them. *What ye shall sow....Ye shall reap*