Герои 3 - карта The Outpost of Progress

Объекты

• Крестьянин
  • 97, 85 подземелье
  • Сообщение: More mindless soldiers scatter as you come towards them. Whatever evil magic animated the dead back at the temple seems only to have completely erased these soldiers' minds. Though tragic, at least they aren't trying to eat your eyeballs. Nonetheless, some of your men kill a few of the invalids that get too close, not that the rest of the insane gathering seems to notice, or care.
• Некрополь
  • 92, 82 подземелье
  • Название: Calaman Keep
• Рыцарь
  • 99, 95 подземелье
  • Название: Sedran Patre
  • Биография: Sedran von Patre is a captain in the Eilian fleet, a high rank but certainly not the highest. It was rumored that he was in line for an admiralcy but his candidacy was rejected shortly after his wife's untimely death. The rumor at the Eilian court is that he was distressed by that event and punched a superior officer in the mouth during an argument at a tavern. Sedran is a brilliant officer who has earned the respect of his men through discipline but also a willingness to accept advice from lower ranking officers.
• Событие
  • 92, 92 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Directly to the north, a set of massive gates looms over you. Its portcullis, once constructed of stout timber, has been smashed in, as if by a giant steel-tipped boot. Splintered wood and charred iron is scattered about the sand in front of the structure, and here and there you can see bodies, some whole, others torn into pieces, thrown about as if by a strong wind. Dried blood and severed limbs garnish the whole view, and indeed the sporadic peppering of red pigment makes the broken gate look more like a mouth that has been whacked with a warhammer than a ruined portcullis. You notice grimly, while walking through the structure, that a few carrion birds perch lazily on the crenellated wall above you, cocking their beady eyes in your direction. Indeed, the rotting corpses don't seem to interest them at all. You guess they'd rather wait a bit and hope for a shot at some fresh blood.
• Событие
  • 97, 96 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You and your men ready themselves for the long trek up the beach. It was Sedran's idea to drop anchor a distance away from the main cove that forms the harbor of Port Calaman, until recently the main base camp of operations here on the island. You agreed with the prudence of the decision. If indeed the camp had been compromised, as it seems to have been from the thick plumes of sickly black smoke that cover the sky to the north, it would be foolish to drop anchor within bowshot of anyone still sifting through whatever survived the assault on the port. You turn on your saddle and give your men a calming stare. They are shifting uneasily in their saddles. Some already have swords and spears at the ready. Indeed, you can smell blood and death on the air, as pungent and obvious as the smell of dead leaves during Autumn. Something happened here, and you have a feeling it isn't something that is going to make you a happier person. Behind, in the distance, you can see Sedran and his smaller regiment following the trail that you have beaten. You hope his men are being as wary as yours, and are ready to charge ahead if they hear your war horn. With a grimace, you kick the sides of your mount and continue up the coast.
• Событие
  • 93, 93 подземелье
  • Сообщение: It is as you expected. Port Calaman has been attacked. To the north, you can see the smoking, charred remains of an entire fleet of battleships, YOUR battleships. Here and there you spot floating bodies, bobbing up and down like rotten apples. The air is thick with smoke and some fires still burn. This happened recently. Hopefully, answers will be found ahead.
• Событие
  • 91, 90 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The carnage before you is simply unbelievable. You are forced to stop for a moment, to get off your horse, to survey the slaughter while standing on your feet. Without thinking, you bring the back of your hand and rest it beneath your nose. You turn aside, mouth filling with bile and saliva. You feel sick. Without a word, you turn aside, unable to stare any longer at the rotted half head and pile of blackened brains at our feet. What's worse, you knew the man, knew him by the jagged scar that split his left eyebrow and forehead in two like a river cutting through a dusty plain. Jackson Redrose was his name. A lieutenant. A good soldier. A dead soldier. This was not a battle. This was a slaughter. It looks almost like... like they were attacked from within, a civil war of sorts. For where were the bodies of the enemy? Nowhere to be found, that's where. Gone away? Dragged from the battlefield by the surviving attackers out of respect for the dead? Unlikely. More likely, something happened to turn this base camp against themselves. But what? What could do such a thing? And where in the {HELL} was Kayerts? Sire, a voice asks behind you. You don't answer immediately. The stench of burning flesh is nauseating and makes it hard to concentrate. Admiral, the voice implores. It is Sedran, and he can barely keep his own voice from shaking. His men have arrived along with your army, and he is surveying the scene for himself for the first time. What madness have you brought him to, he must be thinking. You know very little about what happened here, and he knows absolutely nothing. In a way you feel sorry for him, being dragged into this fiasco. But he is strong, and that's good. Because something tells you it isn't going to get any prettier. What? you bark back without turning. What could possibly beg my attention now? The fact that he would bother you with anything right now, with this scene of twisted corpses and slain innocents lying before you irritates you. Ahead, sire. There is movement. It looks like people, is his reply. Indeed, to the north you can see figures staggering about. They look like common folk, but they are walking strangely, like lost souls. Some of them are missing arms and legs. Others are whole and unscathed, at least in body. None of them seem to notice your presence. Perhaps they can give you answers, but more than likely, they will only want answers themselves. And you have precious little information.
• Хижина предсказателя
  • 102, 73 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The dark-skinned man sitting behind the desk, Sagir by name, is willing to hear reports from any messenger bearing proof of his or her affiliation.
• Страж задания
  • 99, 75 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Wedged in the middle of a narrow valley is a wooden gatehouse which looks to have been very recently constructed. As if reading your thought, Duk grunts, Yeah human, we build to keep vermin like you out. Humans KILL us and take our children and EAT them. But now we EAT YOU. He chuckles at his own wit. After several hours of the goblin's endless gabble about how he is going to eat you, you are about ready to grab that stupid mace from him and make red pudding out of his face. It reminds you of back home at Glen Rock, where the people in the mountain villages always used to be convinced that trolls came into their village at night and killed their children, even though everyone knew it was just the Valley Fever that struck everywhere in the summer time. Ignorant fools. Duk whops you in your butt again and calls for a halt. Something tells you that you might not be sitting comfortably for a while. In a harsh voice, he calls to a few goblins carrying slingshots that man the the gatehouse. Gooamogot!!! Veg mirt solo vermina. He whops you on the ass again for good measure. Galak mo bik? he asks eagerly. The slingshooters consider for a moment but then call back, Nog, (no?) Ikku bod Verg ig motu. Duk looks a little disappointed at this news, whatever it is. Turning to you, he growls, My people say you can enter and that Verg will judge your fate. You will not die yet. Rolling your eyes, you allow Duk and his men to lead you towards the opening gate, making sure you keep your hind quarters out of striking range from Duk and his club.
• Орк
  • 100, 67 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The orcs flee for their homes as you come close to them.
• Гоблин
  • 96, 65 подземелье
  • Сообщение: More goblins run from your presence.
• Событие
  • 91, 85 подземелье
  • Сообщение: A giant altar looms before you. Something about the quick and dirty way it is constructed leads you to believe it was built quite a bit after Port Calaman was founded. In any case, there are bloodstains everywhere and heaps of bodyparts and internal organs -- categorized neatly by type and weight -- all over the place. The remains of a single man lie spread-eagled on the altar. His arms and legs are bolted down with giant metal spikes, which would have restrained him well if his arms and legs were still attached to his body. One of your men is sent to investigate and he returns carrying an ear with three golden loops and one silver stud. By the gods, Scott whispers, It's a Captain Major. Indeed, you think, and since when were Captain Majors sacrificed in such a manner by their own men? Even for the worst crimes, execution was swift, hanging or a sword through the chest if rope was unavailable. This just gets uglier and uglier and stranger and stranger.
• Указатель
  • 100, 69 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Welcome to Pogug, on the Scragh River
• Цитадель
  • 72, 70 подземелье
  • Название: Ogretree
• Цитадель
  • 86, 33 подземелье
  • Название: Togor
  • Посещение Ведьма: Название
  • Биография: Who knows. This creature is an abomination of nature.
• Событие
  • 84, 82 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You come upon a little clearing in the forest, a small patch of grassy land mysteriously devoid of trees. At the back of a clearing is a short man wearing a green hat and sporting a bright orange beard. He seems to have attracted a rather large gathering of animals and dwarves, all of whom are sitting in groups of twos and threes surrounding him in a rough semi-circle. The man is playing what appears to be a hand-carved flute while pausing every now and then to tell a joke. You quickly restrain Bok, who is looking at the animals (and the leprechaun) with a toothy saliva-filled grin. His look of carnivorous glee wilts a bit when you order him to stop trying to eat everything. You listen to the man's show for a few minutes before approaching. The audience eyes you with initial suspicion, but after you introduce yourself amicably, they relax enough to let you enjoy the rest of the performance comfortably. After the show is over, the leprechaun asks for donations from the audience to support his cause. You reluctantly part with a few gold coins, but are pleasantly surprised to find that you are given a small souvenir in return. If it wasn't for Duk trying to secretly convince the audience that you are the devil, it would have been a perfect afternoon.
• Указатель
  • 43, 87 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The Tailian Citadel New Recruits Apply Within
• Указатель
  • 41, 38 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Welcome to the Outpost of Progress Your last taste of civilization before the back country.
• Событие
  • 100, 96 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Your sailors have set up a temporary camp on the beach, and are heartily enjoying some badly needed time off. Several have gathered around a warm campfire and have set a pig to roast. Merry songs are passed around along with mugs of frothy ale, long saved for just such an occasion. A few other men have started a game of volleyball on the beach, using dried seaweed tied together as a makeshift net. They do not look too happy to see you coming their way. Are we to sail already sire? We just got here. Perhaps you should look around first, George Scott announces from between large gulps of beer. Although his cheery suggestion is somewhat out of line and you will certainly have to have a little discussion with him about it later, you do feel a pang of guilt having to make these poor men go back to work so soon. Maybe you should make sure you figure out what happened to Calaman before either you or the Admiral reboards the vessel.
• Крепость
  • 22, 52 подземелье
  • Название: The Lip
• Крепость
  • 34, 70 подземелье
  • Название: Southern Post
  • Название: orange stuff
  • Название: mo orange stuff
• Указатель
  • 37, 43 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Saint Michael's
• Указатель
  • 40, 40 подземелье
  • Сообщение: East - El Sano Southwest - Saint Michael's Mission and the Malamazzi River
• Монах
  • 34, 46 подземелье
  • Сообщение: A couple of monks meet you outside of one of their dormitories. The leader identifies himself and approaches with his hand outstretched in greetings. We hear you are risking a trip to Calaman, he says. We wish to accompany you, if you'd have us!
• Крепость
  • 26, 25 подземелье
  • Название: Gogonkil
• Лучник
  • 59, 43 подземелье
  • Сообщение: AHH!!! Thank you for rescuing us from those vile, vile creatures!
• Хижина предсказателя
  • 54, 29 подземелье
  • Сообщение: It takes some searching, but eventually you find the house of healing here at the monastery. A stooped old monk, so skinny and frail that his robe covers him like a thick blanket, leads you into a sunken room that stinks of old leather, incense and mildew. The old man turns, lowers the cowl on his robe, and stares at you with beady eyes. Aye, thou hast got the mind-sickness, he says in a grating voice, 'tis a bad case of it too, I can see. I can help thee, but I must be sure that your mind is strong enough to withstand the treatment. Only when thou hast reached the level three hast thou obtained sufficient mental training, but do not tarry. Thy time grows short!
• Крепость
  • 63, 7 подземелье
  • Название: Au Chiraz
  • Название: 28 teal stuff
  • Название: 56 teal stuff
• Крепость
  • 89, 16 подземелье
  • Название: some teal stuff
  • Название: stuff!!!
• Указатель
  • 98, 21 подземелье
  • Сообщение: THE LABS. Trespassers will be used for experimentation.
• Гоблин
  • 102, 79 подземелье
  • Сообщение: After vanquishing the zombies (or whatever they are) and seeing to it that their bodies are sliced and diced and burned and buried (the memory of Tomas continuing to fight after being separated into two halves still sends shivers up your spine), you approach the goblins brandishing open arms and a friendly smile. Despite your cheery grin and your chivalrous deed, the men still hold out their maces threateningly, shielding their women and children with their bodies. This, of course, confuses you. Please, you say soothingly, motioning to your men to drop their swords. We mean you no harm. My name is Captain Sedran. We have only recently arrived, and found that terrible things have happened to our base to the south. We only wish to find information. The goblins argue amongst themselves for a moment and then one steps forward. My name Duk. You outsiders not welcome. My people die when your men come around us. Go, now, leave this place. Unfortunately, Duk, this is not an option. I do not know what happened to the south, nor why my brethren would have done you harm. That is what I am here to find out. If you wish, take me prisoner. You hold out your hands, wrists together. Scott puts a cautioning hand on your shoulder, but you shake it off. Do as I do, George. This may be our only shot at ingratiating ourselves to them. Do you actually think these little people could hold us if we really wanted to escape? George sighs but sticks his hands out as well without another complaint. The rest of your men do the same. With caution, Duk approaches. His mace is covered with nasty looking spurs and, little or not, if he decides to smack you in the head with it, your adventure is over. In his eyes, however, you can tell he's not a killer, just a scared merchant. Goblins, at least where you come from, are not known for being overtly aggressive. In fact, they are typically quite friendly. You hope that they are just frightened -- and if they have even been close to Calaman in the recent months, they have every right to be. Ichtuk mog ret, Duk grumbles, and some of the other men come over with some rotting hemp and tie your wrists together. Move not, human, or I clean my club tonight, Duk warns, shaking his mace as threateningly as possible. We go north, to Pogug, my village. There Verg will tell us what we do with you. Hopefully, we EAT you tonight, haha! Just don't do anything rash. Remember, we saved your lives, you return. Yeah, saved us so you could kill us yourselves. We know you humans. BA-A-A-AD. Without another word, he whops you in the ass with his mace, sending you stumbling forward.
• Зомби
  • 101, 80 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Up ahead you see a group of little green men and women (you assume they can only be goblins) backed into a cleft in the sheer face of yellow rock that effectively forms the end of the beach, neatly surrounded by a group of the ugly dead-men which slaughtered Saed and his army back at the Calaman Temple. The goblins look terrified and their men are clearly not warriors despite the fact that they wield, albeit clumsily, wicked looking maces. An overturned supply cart is being vigorously investigated by two of the zombie creatures. Perhaps this can be your day to do a good deed.
• Огр
  • 99, 73 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The four huge green men approach, their mouths hanging open as if their jaws are too heavy to keep closed. Each carries half a tree in his muscular right hand. Ogres. Though not really unfriendly, they had large empires in your own continent, and were quite capable of aggression when the need suited them. Kind of like humans, you muse, although much bigger. The quartet stops in front of you. The leader, identifiable by his bright red tunic and the fact that his club is decorated with four-inch-long steel spikes, steps forward. Two large lower canines protrude from his mouth like unearthed roots; the one on the left has been partially broken off. I am Gug, this is Mu, Rigga, and Bok is the one who always eats, he indicates the fat ogre trailing behind and carrying a leg of some deceased animal in his non-weapon hand. We are from Ogretree. Mu and Rigga, male and female respectively, share a secret glance. Gug simply stands and waits expectantly. What is this, diplomatic tactfulness from an ogre? Hesitantly, as if not sure an introduction is what he wants, you introduce your men, starting with George. We are from Eilia, you explain, searching for answers to what happened to our Port... We know where you humans are from, Gug responds, and we know what happened to Calaman. Your own people destroyed it. This comes as a shock, My own people. They wouldn't! They would, Gug insists, letting his club rest on his shoulder, and they did. I do not have time to discuss it further at this moment. Duk, get those stupid ropes off them, as if they were doing any good anyway. Your goblin captor gives Gug an incredulous look, as if the ogre had asked for Duk to do a striptease. But Gug, these humans. We EAT them tonight. Have a BIG feast! He holds his hands out as far as he can, indicating just how big a feast they could have with your bodies roasting on a spit. DO IT, MAGGOT, Gug barks, or I'm going to eat YOU, and though it won't be a big or tasty feast, it will certainly be pleasurable. Grumbling and giving you a look that could wither even the prettiest rose, Duk stomps over to you and unties the bonds around your wrists. When he doesn't think Gug is paying attention, he whispers to you, Don't think this is over, pal, he pokes you in the chest (which really ends up being the stomach, considering his height), You and me gonna get it ON eventually. And then I eat you. Without allowing you to retort, he stomps off to untie the bonds of your other men. When all the untying has been finished and Duk takes his place at the ogres' side, Gug smiles with satisfaction. Good. Now, come fast. We must hurry to Verg's house. She will have answers you seek. There will be time for finding provisions in the town in a while. Do not keep Verg waiting. Her house is to the north. The ogre turns and indicates that his men should follow. Yeah, scum, Duk declares, waving his mace, come now or... Yeah, you interrupt, I know, you'll eat us. Just shut up, ok? Duk does just that, satisfied that you know what your fate will be if you cross him. Looks like, bonds or no bonds, he is still convinced that you're his prisoner.
• Хобгоблин
  • 97, 67 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Goblins scatter at your approach, some of them almost in tears.
• Событие
  • 99, 69 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Goblins and other small green folk (orcs, perhaps) stare at you out of the windows of their houses as you are led past by Gug, Mu, Rigga, fat Bok, and a triumphant looking Duk. What was done to these innocent creatures to make them fear you so much?
• Событие
  • 96, 63 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The four ogres march you to an aged portcullis carved right from the valley walls. The gate, comprised of rusty iron spikes, lies half open, like a mouth caught in a lazy yawn. A few tired looking goblins stand guard in front of the structure, using their spears to support their weight. Although out of your rope bonds and treated almost like an equal by Gug and his underlings, you still can't shake the itchy feeling of anticipation that is bugging you like an angry mosquito. Something is definitely not right here. Gug turns and orders a halt. Mu and Rigga stop chatting, a conversation concerning the best material for constructing spearheads, and Bok simply burps. Duk, although he some time ago ceased whopping you in the rear-end with his mace, still glares at you with obvious contempt. This must be some place of import, you decide, for the abundance of goblin residences dropped off a while ago. Within lies the abode of Verg, Goblin Queen, Ruler of the Valley Kingdom, Gug intones mechanically, as if announcing a foreign dignitary. Only special visitors are allowed. Mu and Rigga nod and walk away while resuming their discussion, fat Bok trailing behind lethargically, his attention focused solely on his most recent edible acquisition. Duk lingers, oblivious to Gug's irritated glare. You simply wait, content to be treated like an ambassador. Well? We go or what? Duk finally asks with exasperation. I want to see Verg and show her these scum so that she will order you to let me eat them! As I said, Gug says tiredly, only special visitors allowed. Oh, Duk replies with some disappointment. So they must wait outside then? How will she know their ugliness? No, you goat-molesting niblet, Gug exclaims, YOU are not allowed. Why don't you go and arrange a room for our guests at the inn back at town? Make yourself useful. For once. Duk's jaw drops in shock. He simply looks back and forth between Gug and you and your men with an incredulous expression painted on his face. But Gug, they cannot... we mustn't.... room at an inn? Gug simply brandishes his weapon and a fierce toothy smile, which sends Duk scurrying off to the south as fast as his legs can carry him. My apologies, Gug finally says when the little booger is safely out of hearing distance. Duk has a good heart and a brave soul. Do not judge him harshly. His people have been through much hardship of late. Now, let me take you to the Goblin Queen so that your questions can be answered. With a sigh of relief that you can finally make some decent progress, you follow Gug through the portcullis towards the house of Verg.
• Событие
  • 101, 73 подземелье
  • Сообщение: A small hut made of old yet stout timber and dried mud perches on the banks of the Scragh. Aside from a small table, some empty cabinets and a few overturned chairs, the hut is completely empty. Well, you muse, it may not be a castle, but it's going to have to do for now. Every mission needs a base of operation. Hopefully what happened in Calaman won't happen here! You pull aside one of your men, a reliable man named Sagir, and show him the run down structure. Sagir, although it pains me to lose a fine soldier such as yourself, you say earnestly, I need to leave someone behind here in the village to make sure that things do not go amiss. I also need to be sure that nobody comes this way with possible information that I would miss if I didn't leave someone behind. I want you to make up headquarters in this hut. Enlist some of the locals to aid you if necessary. If anyone comes bearing the Messenger's Medal, make sure that you question them completely about whatever is going on here. Do you understand? Sagir nods curtly and begins preparing the hut as a message-receiving base. Satisfied that you will not miss any vital information, you begin making preparations of your own. Verg said that Ogretree lies to the west of here, so west you shall go. But first, it may be wise to convince some of the locals to join your ranks in the off chance that you encounter trouble.
• Хижина предсказателя
  • 104, 38 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Upon closer inspection, you are surprised to find that Tendus Clevus's home is carved from a single tree to look like a giant toadstool. You knock three times on his wooden door and wait for a few moments before the door opens to a dark room beyond. No sign of Tendus Clevus, however. The room is silent. You order your army (for that is what you have now, an army) to wait outside while you investigate. Gug agrees to come with you. The door creaks on its hinges as you push it open and venture inside. The main chamber of the house is a single large room with a staircase that encircles half the circumference of the tree-mushroom-house to arrive at a balcony that takes up the rear half of the second floor. A small kitchen and a reading area make up the first floor and a small door can be seen leading to a closet or some other small room along the right wall. It seems all very ordered and cozy. A sudden bang and flash of light jolt you from your analysis of the house. You turn in surprise to see an old ogre wearing a red cape and carrying a long staff with the head of a snake glaring angrily at you. Why is it that you enter my house unbidden? Who would be silly enough to anger a wizard, I wonder? The man scrutinizes you and then bellows in laughter. A HUMAN? And I thought at least it might be an interesting stranger! Gug steps forward and says angrily, Back off, Tendus, you old rat. This is my friend and our purpose here goes beyond your tired bitterness and old feelings of regret. Tendus Clevus turns toward the new speaker and nearly chokes with surprise. Could it be? General... Gugalion? Hah! I never thought to see THEE again! Come back to finish me off, eh? Well you'll be surprised that this ogre remembers a few things despite that curse your LORD put on me! You look at Gug quizzically, but his stern look tells you to be quiet for a moment. All will be explained in time. Gug turns back to Tendus, who is frowning, but it looks more like a sulking face than an angry one. Come, Tendus, we both know that you brought about your own ruin. You're lucky my lord Murak didn't kill you for practicing magic in his own house. But enough of that... we have important matters to discuss. Well, Tendus says, putting a finger to his fat ogre lips, obviously trying to decide if anything could be more important than his own grudges. I don't know... why would I help you? You have nothing to offer me in return. Suddenly you remember Murak telling you that Tendus had a passion for good luck charms. Is there anything that you have that would qualify... and if so... should you give it to him?
• Указатель
  • 86, 72 подземелье
  • Сообщение: South -- Ogretree North - Togor East - Pogug
• Указатель
  • 73, 79 подземелье
  • Сообщение: North - Ogretree West - The Tailan Citadel East - Togor
• Событие
  • 87, 72 подземелье
  • Сообщение: This is it, Rigga exclaims, jumping up and down like a circus dog, the road to Ogretree! Mu merely smiles and gives Rigga a haltingly stiff hug. You've come to realize the two are romantically attached, as evidenced by the frequent warm looks and secretive smiles that the two pass each other when they don't think anyone else is looking. You had questioned Gug about it, but he had simply shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. It will be something that will be revealed at the correct time. Duk and his goblin and orc sortie arrive at the crooked signpost within minutes. Why we go to Ogretree? he sniffs, scrutinizing the sign. The trouble came from the north. That's where the HUMANS are, I'm sure! Duk glares at you. Best go there first and get it over with. Because, Gug replies with the resigned irritation of a dozing man who just gave up trying to swat a mosquito, it has been some time since we've been to Ogretree, and we do not know in what condition the Ogre cities are. If the trouble came from the north, than it is in the north where we will find the most trouble. Murak Mol lives in Ogretree, and it is there that we shall find safe haven from the HUMANS. He says this last word with a sarcastic sneer, which, in your opinion, would have been much more effective accompanied by a smack to Duk's head. Mu and Rigga take the lead southwards, taking up a happy song that puts renewed vigor in your steps.
• Событие
  • 83, 76 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Some of Duk's friends catch sight of an overturned caravan wagon that has been abandoned by the side of the road. Something about the ominous quiet that lies about the area thick like a blanket or the fortuitous way that the wagon lies on the edge of a dense copse of twisted trees suddenly screams out to your warrior's instincts, but it is too late. The first few goblins to reach the overturned wagon are killed almost instantly by the heavy wall of arrows and other projectiles that emerge from the darkness of the trees, accompanied by a host of taunts and warcalls.
• Событие
  • 82, 77 подземелье
  • Сообщение: What in the deepest region of hell were THOSE? Scott screams, nursing a wound on his arm. Although several Pogugians had fallen under the first few charges of the creatures, your experience as a leader and the somewhat staggering presence of Gug and company easily turned the tide in your favor. Something about the way the ambush was set up (aside from the fact that it was carried out by wolflike creatures wearing human clothes) sends goosebumps breaking out on your arms and legs, but you can't quite identify what it is. The ambush was too... calculated. Wild creatures without military training could never have picked such an ideal spot and waited with such patience for such an ideal moment. Those, Gug replies gravely, were gnolls. Noles? you ask, sounding the word out on your tongue. Never heard of them. Nobody has, Duk snorts. He seems to be taking the loss of several friends well. He is still his usual abrasive self. We made the name up. It come from Gnolgash, meaning son of dog. Until you humans showed up, there were no dogmen. Now, they are the least of our troubles. You press the goblin leader for more information one what could be worse than a man with a dog's head leading sophisticated military ambushes, but Duk refuses to answer. Instead, Gug answers, We do not know the answers to where these creatures come from, but Duk speaks the truth. Until your human friends came, this was a peaceful island. Even the Chizmak barbarians in the interior only raided occasionally. But we haven't heard from them in a few years either, now that I think of it. Only the dogmen and other freakish abnormalities. Whatever, Bok interrupts, gnawing on the leg of a slain gnoll. They die easy enough and taste pretty good! Come, Gug says, ignoring the fat ogre. We must get to Ogretree and report this ambush. For the most part, the movement of these creatures has been disorganized, but this is different. They are learning.... On this somewhat somber note, you continue south.
• Страж задания
  • 71, 77 подземелье
  • Сообщение: An enormous wall spans the width of the valley that stretches to the north. An even bigger gatehouse, easily the size of your own castle back home, dominates a large portion of that wall. While you and George Scott and the surviving members of your original group gape in amazement at the sheer size of the sandstone structure, Bok and Mu and Rigga are waving their clubs in the air, calling to the guards who have probably been aware of your presence all morning. They are clearly very enthusiastic about their return home, but although Bok cheers with childlike glee, Mu and Rigga's elation is tempered by a tinge of regret, and you can't help but notice a look of shared worry that passes between them. Gug simply smiles, glad to be home but aware that it is not under the best of circumstances. Indeed, the period of celebration will be short. Duk comes up behind you silently and jabs you in the back with the butt of his mace. Although his goblin friends do not seem to share his hostile sentiments ever since they witnessed the callous way you dealt with the noles (Gug has since informed you that there is a G in the spelling of their name -- the gods only know why), Duk is wily enough to bully them all at least into keeping silent their objections to his treatment of you. Enjoy your last few hours of happy time, human, he sneers. You might have fooled Verg, yes, but she is weakly and old. Murak Mol is BIG and POWERFUL and will not fall for your treachery. Within the evening, he will pronounce you the meal of Duk! Hardee har! For emphasis, the goblin merchant prepares to smack you with his club but you anticipate the move and neatly dodge his awkward attack. Suddenly off balance, he spins in a circle and falls in the mud, eliciting some snickers from the other goblins. Rolling your eyes, you pick Duk up out of the mud and help to get him on his feet. With fire in his eyes, he smacks your hand with his mace, shooting fiery pain up your arm. With mud falling down between his eyes, he growls, Touch me not, swift boy. Old Steelnut here packs quite a sting! You may be big boy, but Murak Mol is bigger still. You'll see, I'll eat you yet. With a huff, he storms off. Gug approaches with a slight grin on his face. Pay no attention to him, my lord, he says in his deep, earthy voice. Duk is simply proud of his people and regrettably he has been wronged more than once by your kind. It will take time for him to warm to you. Well he certainly can't be any colder, you whine, nursing your throbbing hand. And be assured that my Lord Murak will not be ordering any feasts to be made from you. He is a kind man and wise. He will have information for you. Come, let me show you my home. At least for tonight, we can set our worries aside! Brandishing the amulet that Verg gave you, you approach the giant towers of Ogretree.
• Страж задания
  • 74, 72 подземелье
  • Сообщение: To the east, you can see a large mansion built from square blocks of sandstone. Giant rectangular pieces of bright blue cloth are draped from windows that adorn the building on its facade. A couple of large, clean-cut ogres wielding massive halberds and blue livery stop you here at the gate. This is my lord Murak Mol's personal quarters, the guard sniffs somewhat pretentiously. Due to security reasons and the threat of assassins from Vaskar the Traitor, we cannot let you pass. If you want an audience with His Lordship, you must visit him at the castle during his administrative hours. Thank you. You attempt to barter your way past the gates (much to the disapproval of Gug and company) but your bribes are met with stone faces. Looks like you're going to have to visit him with all the other rabble during his administrative hours until this Vaskar person has been eliminated..
• Событие
  • 72, 74 подземелье
  • Сообщение: A very large, old castle is situated in the back of the circular valley. Although the architecture is simple, formed by little more than elegant yet ordinary perfect cubes, it is perhaps one of the most majestic buildings your trained eyes have ever seen. Lacking the egregiously florid rococo that is the signature of castles and citadels back home in Eilia, this is a castle built for one purpose
• Событие
  • 72, 71 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Two Ogre ushers arrive to escort you through the castle once you are admitted past the gate guards, a process expedited by the presence of Gug and the other ogres in your company. Most of Duk's goblins are prohibited from entering, but Duk throws enough of a fuss -- complete with insults and cussing -- that the chief of castle security, a pleasant male ogre by the name of Toggas, waves him through with a sigh of irritation. Gug seems to be quite happy to be back in the long, tall hallways of his home, but Mu and Rigga are becoming increasingly nervous as you make your way to Murak Mol's throne room. Finally, after it seems like you have been walking for hours, the ushers stop at a pair of enormous wood doors carved with reliefs that apparently tell the story of, not surprisingly, Craag and the felling of the first World Tree. The usher on your left bangs loudly three times on the wooden doors with the butt of his staff, and after a few moments, it opens on well-oiled hinges. Show the humans in, Maran. I do so wish to see them, a deep but melodious voice calls. The ogre who opens the door, Maran you suppose, is stunningly beautiful, even for an ogre. Wearing a skimpy robe of sapphire blue, she eyes you skeptically (although without hostility) and allows you to enter the magnificent chamber of Murak Mol. A red carpet leads from the pair of doors to a raised dais in the center of the chamber, which is crowned by a pair of wooden thrones, one of which is empty. You approach the thrones with as much humility as you can muster without sacrificing your own dignity. Certainly, despite the rumors of Murak Mol's benevolence, it would not do to offend your only potential ally by being presumptuous. Murak Mol is a pleasantly handsome ogre with emerald skin, kind eyes, and a head of well-cut auburn hair. He smiles warmly and stands as you near the throne, with his arms outstretched. Ah, General Gugalion, he bellows cheerfully, how wonderful to see you. Gug smiles back and approaches, allowing the Ogre Lord to embrace him like a son. My Liege, Gug replies, it has been a long time, and we have much to talk about. But first, as you know, I have managed to pick up some most unusual allies. Please, may I introduce Captain Sedran and his entourage from Eilia and... uh.. Duk of Pogug. He adds this last with a grin. GENERAL Duk Magal of Pogug, Duk corrects sternly, pushing his way in front of you and Gug. I speak for her majesty, Queen Verg of the Goblin Kingdom. And it is my demand that you hand this human filth over to me IMMEDIATELY so that they may receive their proper punishment! Murak Mol's eyes widen in surprise, and Gug (General? You remind yourself to ask him about that little fact later) simply puts a hand to his temples wearily. All right, General, Murak says with some mirth in his voice, I will consider your request, but not until I am allowed to question the... prisoners.. first. Agreed? Duk is nearly trembling but he manages to choke back, Agreed. Good, Murak says pleasantly, clapping his hands. Now, we do not wish to tire Verg's most trusted General. Why don't you go get some rest, Duk? Duk does not require rest, Duk spits back. If Duk wants his wishes to be considered, then Duk better go get some rest, Murak Mol retorts, the smile never leaving his face. Duk's features contort into a look of rage and stupefaction, but he bites back whatever hateful reply was forming on his lips. Even the silly goblin had to have a little bit of diplomatic sense. Fine. Tell me when you make decision, so that I can begin the execution. After Duk is escorted from the room, Gug rolls his eyes. My apologies, My Lord, he says, Duk is somewhat vehement in his hatred of these humans. He refuses to be diplomatic. Understandable, the Ogre Lord replies, turning his eyes to you, So, what can I do for you... Sedran was it? I must begin by saying that Duk's sentiments are not uncommon among the goblins, or among my own people. Your involvement in our land has caused us no end of trouble. Indeed, our future remains uncertain. There is not much I can do for you at the moment, with my hands tied as they are. Suddenly, Murak Mol appears very sullen and much older. His eyes are drooping and he is slumping in his chair. My apologies for any grievances my people have caused you and yours, you say candidly, it is not the habit of Eilia to cause problems with innocent people. I have been sent to find out what has happened to the men who were sent to this island. Whatever they were doing, it was not a mission known about or condoned by our Crown, of that I am fairly sure, and I am here to resolve what ever issues have arisen. I am not a man to blame one man for the sins of others. I hold no grudge against humanity, Murak says sadly, And if you are here for answers about what that man Kayerts and his buddy Carlier were here doing, I'm afraid I don't have them. Kayerts struck me as a man of integrity and honor and I saw no evil in him. But Carlier..... that man had darkness in his eyes, I swear it. They were both very secretive about what they were doing, and shortly after they arrived here they left to explore the swamps of the interior. We have not heard of them since. But I tell you this. Murak leans forward. It wasn't long after they left that our troubles began. Strange creatures, the likes of which we've never seen, began raiding our outposts. It has been months since we have heard from Togor to the north and none of our messengers or regiments of men have returned to provide us with information. The cyclops packed up and left us weeks ago. Our resources have been ransacked, my people kidnapped in the middle of the night. The Tailian Citadel to the west, our main barracks, has been commandeered by a renegade colonel by the name of Vaskar, who says that it is I who have brought the downfall of the Ogre Kingdom. Without the Tailian Citadel behind me, I fear that we cannot hold off the attacks by these strange creatures much longer. Murak Mol takes in a deep breath. I am sorry for burdening you with my problems. I wish I could help you, but until the threat of Vaskar is eliminated, my hands are not free to give you aid. We cannot get close enough to the Citadel to parlay, as he attacks us on sight... but you... he might be intrigued. He might let you past his front gate. If you could retake Tailia for me... then I could put all my energies into finding out the cause of our troubles, which I honestly believe is also the cause of yours. If you succeed in this task, please return and visit me in my home to the east. We shall talk further then! In the meantime, you may use Ogretree and recruit from it as you wish. My men will join your ranks willingly, as they are as eager as you are to find some answers. You are not entirely pleased by being obligated to undertake such a dangerous quest, but really you have no choice. Murak Mol's aid will be invaluable. You only hope that you don't meet up with any armies of those dog creatures (and worse) that Murak Mol seems to be referring to. You thank Murak for his time and promise to pay Vaskar a visit, but as you are about to leave, Murak Mol calls from behind you. Yes, Mu and Rigga, we are not finished here. I am most grateful that Gug was able to retrieve you, and now we have much to discuss.... Unfortunately, you are ushered from the room before you are able to eavesdrop any further.
• Хижина предсказателя
  • 77, 72 подземелье
  • Сообщение: A very short, pale warrior wearing spiked armor and a dark grin looks up at you from over a makeshift desk. Yes? he asks gruffly. You had better be a messenger with the proper identification....
• Тюрьма
  • 76, 71 подземелье
  • Название: Murak Mol
  • Биография: Descended from Craag the Hack, the legendary ogre hero who slew Calaxion the Devil Lord, Murak Mol is the current Lord of Ogretree and Overseer of Ogrekind. His most notable virtue is temperance and his worst vice a tendancy to pity the weak. Quiet and unassuming, Murak was loved by all his people until recent events shook their confidence. Many blame Murak (unjustly) for the events that led to the loss of Tailia and Togor and have deserted Ogretree in search of safer lands. Now, Murak wishes to reassert his rightful role as the King of the ogres and strike back against the creatures who have killed so many of his people.
• Вампир
  • 82, 86 подземелье
  • Сообщение: A group of the living dead such as those you encountered at Calaman can be seen preying upon the natural denizens of this pond, which also happens to be a producer of gemstones. Do you wish to intercede?
• Орк
  • 55, 78 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Maka zaag zak!!!! the orcs yell, and willingly join your ranks.
• Гоблин
  • 52, 79 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Duk manages to convince this group of goblins to join your army, but only after coercing their promise to back him up when he finally decides to make a dinner of you.
• Событие
  • 52, 82 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Nestled in a shallow valley to the west you can just make out the city of Tailia . It is vast, bigger than Ogretree, yet although the giant boxlike castle -- assuredly the Tailian Citadel -- is one of the largest, most imposing fortifications you've ever laid eyes upon, it somehow lacks the ancient, almost ominous splendor that characterized the wooden castle at Ogretree. As if realizing what you are thinking, Gug interjects, Don't let that fool you, Captain, Tailia will not easily fall, and although my Lord Murak has a kind heart, he is naive. Tailia and Vaskar will not bow down willingly, curiosity or not. We will have to pull them down. You nod, knowing this to be the truth.
• Событие
  • 44, 84 подземелье
  • Сообщение: A big ogre (or, rather, big FOR an ogre) greets you with an angry bellow from atop the wall that directly surrounds the Tailian Keep. Human, I welcome you to Tailia, the ogre yells. The sheer power of his voice is astounding. My name is Vaskar Colradion, the rightful ruler of Ogretree. No doubt, the Failure known as Murak Mol has sent you here in the hopes that you could beguile me into giving you access to the Citadel and therefore bring about my downfall. Well, Vaskar is not so stupid! Cheers from what must be hundreds of men -- none of whom you can see for they are assuredly hidden behind the well-fortified walls of the Citadel -- erupt in support of their leader. Vaskar, Gug sneers back in a loud burst of fury that nearly ruptures your ear drums, your actions here are out of line. The events that are affecting our people are not the fault of Murak Mol. Your coup only exacerbates our problems. Please, throw down your weapons and join us! The alternative is a grim one. The giant ogre's laughs are carried by the wind in all directions. You notice upon further scrutiny that he is using some sort of horn to project his voice. My dear Gug, the mighty general, you know that I hold Tailia, and although it certainly does not hold a candle next to Ogretree, our main recruitment centers are nonetheless located here. Even should you breach my walls, you would never best my garrison. We are too many, and you are too few. That human filth with whom you travel are a bane to our existence. I beseech you, slay them now and join my cause! You can't help but notice Duk quivering with excitement, which elicits a sigh of irritation from Scott. Gug shakes his head in sorrow and turns to you. I do so hate to slay a brother, but Vaskar has been poisoned by his own propaganda. In a way, he is right -- if we had been savvier and eliminated the armies of Kayerts and Carlier when they had arrived, perhaps none of our troubles would have started. But that is not our way. That is not the race of ogres to whom the World Trees entrusted the guardianship of life. Nay, Vaskar has forsaken the ancient pact with Baloskamagalar and for that he must be killed. With your permission, I'd like to start the attack. Solemnly, you nod your head, and curtly flick your wrist in Scott's direction, giving him the go-ahead to ready your men. For a minute you think that Duk might try to do something brave and silly, but after a minute's contemplation, he falls in line and orders the goblins to take their positions. That doesn't stop him from glaring at you for several minutes and then saying coldly, Only because I not want some smelly Ogre kill you first! You shrug, satisfied that, for now at least, Duk is on your side.
• Событие
  • 44, 87 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The gates of Tailia are open. Curious.....
• Событие
  • 75, 72 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The Lord Murak Mol, dressed in a fine blue velvet doublet, greets you at the doorstep. His hair is still wet from a recent bath. Ahhh, so the reports are true. You have accomplished what I asked. Vaskar is dead? Gug advances and takes a knee. In his hands is a basket containing the head of Vaskar. He offers it to the Ogre Lord, but Mol waves his hands in disgust. No, I do not wish to see it. The thought of having to kill a brother of mine sickens me. Please dispose of it. I am simply gladdened that Tailia is back in our control, and now we can move on to other things. Won't you please come inside? Mol leads you into a grand antechamber and then into a smaller but no less opulent study, complete with leather-cushioned armchairs, large rugs, lush curtains and literally hundreds of books of all colors, shapes and sizes. You graciously take a seat and within minutes are served hot lemon tea and sweet biscuits by a young ogre dressed in pale yellow livery. Unfortunately, Bok stuffs his mouth full of the biscuits before you even have a chance to sniff them. Now, Murak Mol says after he takes a seat and a sip of tea, for your aid, as I promised. As I told you before, I really do not know what Kayerts and Carlier are up to, and it is possible (although I doubt it), that the strange creatures and attacks that we've been seeing and your associates' arrival are completely coincidental. What I DO know is that whatever is happening, it goes far beyond the appearance of a few dog-like men. It is difficult to explain why I know this, but I will try. When my ancestor Craag slew the Devil Lord, and Baloskamagalar named the ogres the protectors of life, the World Tree gave Craag a magical pendant as a token of the pact that was to be made between them. This pendant has been passed down through the ages from ancestor to ancestor. I now hold it. As it was magical and was a symbol of the power of life that coursed through the roots and branches of the World Tree, the pendant always glowed a magnificent blue, so bright in fact that to look at it would cause temporary blindness. We have always carried it in a leather pouch! Alas, for the last few months -- ever since the arrival of Kayerts and his men -- the pendant has been flickering and its light has grown stale and sickly green. Here, look! Murak takes out a chain that is around his neck. On the end is a small orb about the size of a large marble. Indeed, the orb throbs with a pulsing incandescence, but it is not a healthy light at all; in fact the sickly yellow-green glow makes you want to vomit. So you see, Mol says, putting the pendant away, Something is direly wrong, direly, direly wrong. This pendant has been constantly shining for millennia, and suddenly it is dying as surely as a man dies of the plague? No, too much to be a coincidence, I'm afraid. If the powers of the World Tree die, what will become of our land? The ogres have failed! Maybe Vaskar was correct! The consequences of the World Tree's death are inconceivable, and now maybe you understand the precious nature of your quest. Unfortunately, I do not know how to fix the problem, but certainly if you were to track down Kayerts and Carlier, maybe you can stop whatever it is they have done. I don't know... but you MUST find them. The Interior is all but unreachable at the present time, as whatever creatures these things are that attack us have set up fortifications at every known pass into the jungle. If you have received communication from any friendly factions that still remain on the inside, perhaps they have given you better information. Murak leans forward now and his eyes grow serious. Now, as to how I can help you. Clearly, this is a problem that is heavily weighted with magic. Myself, I know nothing of the arts. Most of us do not care for it and indeed there has not been a practicing magician in Ogretree in over 500 years. Wizards are not well received by my people. A quick frown from you confirms your own ignorance and distaste of the arcane. But I do know of someone, my own great uncle in fact, who does know a thing or two about it, and although it will bring great disrespect to me should my people find out I have a living relative who dabbles in magic, I think the time for personal vanity has passed. He lives far to the northeast, at the end of the Scragh River and his name is Tendus Clevus. I think you should seek him out, as he may know more about whatever has happened to the World Tree. He is also knowledgeable about the land and might know of some other way into the Interior. Unfortunately, he doesn't like strangers and he likes me even less, ever since I banished him for practicing magic in Ogretree. I suggest you bring him a gift. He is very fond of good luck charms, and I'm sure if you found one, he would gladly spare you some of his time. You consider Murak's words with a heavy heart. If this land is in danger because of the unraveling of ancient magical powers, what are the ramifications to your own home, which is only separated from this land by a couple of hundred miles of water? If you happen to find Kayerts or Carlier, how will you confront them? As if understanding your silent worries, Murak Mol rises from his chair and comes over to where you are sitting. Putting a hand on your shoulders, he says, There are many bridges to cross before that one, my lord. You nod your head and sigh. Murak lifts his hand from your shoulder and retakes his seat. I know you will require help in this mission of yours, and I will offer what assistance I can. The mysterious attacks from the strange creatures from the Interior continue. While you endeavor to find Tendus Clevus, I will remain here and try to ensure that no harm comes to Ogretree, which shall act as your main base of recruitment. Before you try to find Tendus's home, you may want to strike north and see what has become of our city to the north, Togor. As I said earlier, it has been months since we heard from them, and their assistance would be invaluable. Now, is there anything else you require? You stand, sure there isn't, but then a thought strikes you. Actually, there is. We sorely miss Mu and Rigga's presence from our army. Where have they gone? Gug gives you a dangerous look and even Murak's eyes widen in surprise. For reasons which take too long to explain, they will be unable to continue as members of your party. Mu, my son, has been punished and Rigga has been sent home. You open your mouth to probe further but Gug shakes his head secretly. Clearly this is a touchy subject. Not wanting to offend Murak, you drop the subject, at least temporarily, and thank the Ogre Lord for his assistance.
• Событие
  • 81, 81 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You hear the sounds of fiddle music and laughter drifting through the trees.
• Событие
  • 76, 72 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Gug provides you with an empty hut to act as a message receiving base here at Ogretree. Again you select a man from your army to hold the fort, as it were, until such time as a message is delivered.
• Событие
  • 99, 60 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The Scragh River cuts through the rock like a hot sword through the neck of a condemned murderer, forming a jagged wound through the mountains to the northeast. The canyon is indeed barely wide enough to ride two horses side by side. If there should be an ambush, you would be hard pressed to defend yourself.
• Событие
  • 98, 55 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Up ahead you can hear the snarls of some sort of wild animals. Only Bok looks excited. Perhaps you should turn back?
• Чудище
  • 96, 54 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Enormous hairy beasts in sore need of a fingernail clipping are sunbathing themselves outside of a mammoth cave that opens right on the northern banks of the Scragh. There doesn't seem to be any way around them, unfortunately.
• Ржавый дракон
  • 99, 46 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The Great Dragon, Zachixkoagmoxiatl, but known to the folks of Pogug and the surrounding area as Zach the Snorter, can be seen perched far ahead on a natural column of rock that juts out of the cliffs like a crooked finger pointed threateningly at the heavens. Duk and his goblin entourage look fearfully at the large brown scaly creature as if they were looking at a devil. And perhaps they are. Look, human, Duk sneers at a rather wily-eyed looking Bugs, I don't know why you'd be messing with Zach, but he mean, meaner and badder than even you humans. After Zach done eating us, he go and eat my whole village! Is that what you want!? Huh?? Bug simply shrugs, and Duk falls in line beside you. Look, Sedran, he begins. The goblin's words strike you as strange. It is the first time Duk has actually said your name, and he sounds it awkwardly on his tongue with a grimace on his face reminiscent of the look a child makes when being forced to eat something he doesn't like. This Zach kills my people by the hundreds. This magic man who lives here is NOT worth it. You open your mouth to retort, but Gug beats you to it. Listen, little green boy, Gug chuckles, My Lord Murak Mol would not send us on a worthless quest. If Tendus Clevus has the knowledge of the source of these mysterious attacks, then we must speak with him. A giant flying lizard will not stop us. But if you don't shut up, I'm going to save us the trouble of having to kill him by offering you up as a sacrifice. Clear? Duk mutters something that sounds like petulant grumbling and falls back with the rest of the goblins. You smile somewhat, glad to see someone else chastising the troublesome goblin for once. You have little time to enjoy the experience, however, for suddenly, you are buffeted by a blast of hot, stinky wind and a high pitched shriek as Zach the Snorter drops from his perch and attacks your party.
• Мечник
  • 106, 51 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You come across a small group of human soldiers camped on the sandy banks of the Scragh. The canyon has opened up a bit here and there is actually a sizable beach. The water looks fresh and cool. No wonder these soldiers picked this spot... but that doesn't answer the question -- what are human soldiers doing all the way up here in the hills? Intent on an answer, you approach the small encampment, ignoring Duk's request that you kill them immediately. The leader of the small group is waiting for you when you reach the circle of their camp. He is a short man who despite his small stature looks like he could be a formidable opponent. It has been many days, maybe weeks, since he has shaved or bathed, and he has the paranoid eyes of someone who is burdened by something terrible he has seen. Greetings, you say pleasantly. My name is Sedran of the Royal Fleet of Eilia. Aaak, Eilia, the man spits, I used to be of Eilia too. But now I'm just called Bugs. These here are me mates, he indicates the three slovenly unkempt soldiers that are lounging on the sands, barely paying you any notice. What brings you call the way up here, Captain? Ignoring the question, you pose one of your own. Used to be of Eilia? you ask. Aye, Bugs returns. Of the Eilian Navy I was. That was until that man Kayerts and his lapdog Carlier dragged us all the way out into yon wilderness with nary an explanation. Foolish to be trekkin' all over that there jungle roundin' up all the natives when the war's many miles away! Yar. When that Carlier feller set his cronies on me fer sayin' so, I had to get me away from thar, but not before killin' me a couple of them first, tee hee hee! Bugs slaps his knee and chokes up a snort of a laugh. Suddenly Bugs' mouth shuts and he eyes you shrewdly. I hope you don't think you be haulin' me back to prison or nothin' for what I done. Or I'll have to be killin' me a couple more cronies. You not be Carlier's men, come to bring me in, are ye? No, you answer shortly. From what you are hearing, you may have to kill this Carlier yourself. I have come to find out what has become of Kayerts and his mission. We landed and found Port Calaman sacked by a race of living corpses. Calaman stamped to smitherines, you say? Bugs laughs. Well, serves them right, it does. I've not heard of walkin' dead men, though. Methinks you be drinkin' too much of papa's cold medicine, if ye knows what I means. I wish I could help yous out in yer quest, but as I said, Kayerts and Carlier were perty shut-uppedy about their stinkin' mishun. Alls I knows is that that they were herding up all the little green men to put them to work or somethin'. In any case, we on our own mishun now, so if ye don't mind... You can see that you're not going to get much useful information out of this strange fellow. Clearly, Kayerts and Carlier were up to something. What mission would that be? you ask finally, genuinely interested. Some of them green men, like those ya got with ya, they be tellin' us that some magic man lives up to the north at the mouth of this here rivuh. Me and my buddies, we never seen a magic man before. But see, there lives this dragon creature right to the north, and he guards the valley. Already killed poor Smythe, that beast did, and so now we owe the monster one. We been waitin' here for days for that creature to fall asleep, but it's as if the beast never gits tired, damn him to the netherworld! Bugs punches his fist into his hand and spits. Then suddenly his eyes light up. Say! I know somethin' about that scoundrel Carlier and his mishun. It ain't much but as far as I can tell, you don't know much, so it might be of helpin' to ya. I'd be willin' to part with me knowledge if you were to help us kill that filthy lizard that separated poor Smythe's head from his perty shoulders! What say ye? Not really having much room to argue, you agree.
• Событие
  • 99, 45 подземелье
  • Сообщение: After taking numerous wounds, Zach falls to the ground and snorts his last snort, accompanied by a sickly thin trail of smoke that escapes from the beast's nose with slow, timid cautiousness. Bugs and his three remaining men approach the corpse and begin issuing curses and taunts at it. Bog simply begins carving off a hunk of meat to eat. Only Duk seems to be shocked into simply staring at the enormous creature, a look of pained incredulity painted on his face. He almost seems to be... no, he couldn't... it must be the smoke. You approach the corpse yourself, marveling at the sheer size of the dragon. That thing must have preyed upon this area for centuries. As if echoing your thoughts, Duk turns to you, a single tear rolling down his cheek. For over two hundred years, Zach the Snorter has been a bane to our town. He ate my mother, my seventeen siblings, four of my children and left my father with no legs. I never thought one day I would be standing over him, his blood on my mace. You do not point out that none of Zach's blood is on his mace, as the goblin remained at an almost cowardly distance from the creature during the battle. Suddenly, Duk throws down his weapon at your feet. I ask your pardon, human, he says solemnly, today you have shown yourself to not be heartless and cruel like the other humans. You have done a great thing for my people. I no longer wish to you eat you. With something that is so slight you're not even sure if it's a smile, Duk picks up his mace and walks away. Gug looks at you and puts his arms in the air, saying with his body, He's a weird one, and I don't know what the hell that was! After allowing Bugs and his three followers to taunt Zach until they are almost hoarse, you pull the loony man -- who by now is drenched in Zach's orangish sticky blood -- aside and ask him without preamble, I'd have my information now, Bugs. A deal is a deal. So it is, Bugs says, his smile fading. I once had the privilege of dining with Kayerts and Carlier. Now Kayerts was a man of business he was, with a mouth as tightly shut as his arse. Nary a word escaped that man's lips. But not Carlier. He had a tongue as loose as a whore's small-clothes, that one did. Once he did get a few shots of rum in him, he'd talk like he was dyin' on the morrow. Once he did say to the captains at his table that he (meanin' Kayerts, but Carlier liked to be takin' credit for everything) had finally located what they had been sent to find. I don't be knowin' what it means, but it was some kind of door or something. Carlier said it was all hidden, in the middle of the swamp like, covered with vines and such. They were going to go through the door on the morrow. A long pause, and then a sigh. I never did see the man again, no I didn't. Me and my buddies fled the army the very next day. Didn't want nothin' to do with no door in the jungle all covered with vines, no I didn't. Door in the jungle? What could it possibly mean? You thank Bugs for his information and tell him that he is more than welcome to stay among your ranks but he nods his head. Nay, I'm sorry but I must decline yer offer. I'm not an Eilian man no more, not after what I seen Eilian men do. Now, if you'll be excusin' me, I got a magic man to go see, though I'm thinkin' I might spend some time around here. Where there's a dragin there's bound to be treasure, so it is! You allow the man to leave, knowing that his information is somehow important, but not knowing what kind of sense to make of it. Maybe this Tendus Clevus will know. In any case, you have a feeling you may be seeing Bugs again....
• Событие
  • 100, 40 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The source of the Scragh river (which the goblins pronounce like frog but with a horrid choking sound where the g should be) is about as beautiful as the river's name is ugly. Duk, who seems to be your new best friend (after slaying Zach the Snorter he promptly declared to his brethren that you were the most courageous human ever), tells you that the name means honey-lake in his language. How something as ugly as Scrog could mean honey-lake in any language is beyond your comprehension. But indeed, the lake in the middle of the lush, green valley in front of you, is as precious as the smell of a late summer peach. If looks were tastes, you'd spread this lake all over your morning toast. Honey-lake indeed. Flowers of all colors dot the meadow like the spots on a leopard, and the sweet smells of honeysuckle and wild rose and lavender tickle your nostrils. Butterflies and hummingbirds and wild crickets hop from one blossom to the next, and combined with the tenor 'cor-raaaaat' of the bullfrogs down by the water, they create a literal symphony of pleasant noises. You almost feel like sitting down right where you are standing and taking a long nap. But unfortunately, you have pressing duties. Why... so beautiful! you gasp. Gug smiles. Yes, he replies with the tacit voice of one who is in the presence of godly beauty. This is sacred ground, protected by the magic of the World Trees. After Craag had constructed his grand fortress from the corpse of Baloskamagalar, he made a pilgrimage to this very valley. Although Baloskamagalar was dead, the magic of the World Trees forever courses through the wood, as you well know. But the center of the World Tree's power lies in the World Tree's heart, a small walnut-shaped knot of wood the color of an angel's wing. Knowing that for this magical artifact to end up in the hands of an evil creature would spell disaster, Craag brought it here and buried it in a thousand-foot hole that he himself dug. This valley was not so beautiful then, Gug continues, lost in his own story, but soon after he finished the burial and ensealment of Baloskamagalar's heart, along with the help of his Wizard-friend, Sazlor, the splendor you see before you arose... like a rose! Gug chuckles at his own wit. And what a beautiful rose... such is the power of the World Trees. If something has happened to the World Tree, Gug says, his cheery smile decaying slightly, this place will rot like everywhere else, although Baloskamagalar's power will sustain it for a time. You are fascinated by the history lesson, but suddenly you are eager to move on, as if simply staying here is somehow a corruption of the divine beauty of the place. And why did Tendus Clevus come here? you ask, beginning to walk down to the center of the valley. Gug shrugs, This is a place of magic, so where better to come if you are a man of magic? But we had better hurry, before Bok eats something that he shouldn't. Who knows what magical venison would do to him? With a smile, you urge your troops deeper into the valley.
• Событие
  • 102, 37 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Jutting from a tower of rock nearly twenty feet tall is a spring of crystal clear water, slightly warm to the touch. The water collects in a lake at the bottom of the rock tower with a thunderous roar, which is almost too loud to bear without covering your ears with your hands. Under the tower is where the heart of Baloskamagalar rests, Gug screams, and points to the top of the tower, where you can make out a few flying creatures much to big to be birds encircling the rock as if they were sentries. The Pagox, he instructs, horses with wings, more or less. The power of the World Tree over life is such that it can alter the structure of living creatures to suit the needs of the Tree. Although dead, the magic of the heart is alive and created the Pagox to guard its resting place by changing the horses that used to live in this valley. Pretty nifty, yes? Nifty? Sounds like some freakish abnormality of nature to you, but then you were never one to trust magic. Duk suddenly comes forward jumping up and down like a man with his pants on fire. Look, looooooook, he says excitedly, I found human that you want. You follow his outstretched arm to the southeast and sure enough you can see a hut behind the branches of a couple of large pine trees.
• Страж задания
  • 37, 101 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You encounter what appears to be an abnormally smooth face in the mountain to the north. A small hole, too precise to be anything but carved by skilled hands, is set about three feet from the ground. Could it be a keyhole?
• Событие
  • 81, 55 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Your party makes its way northwards along the dusty Makatog road, which is really little more than a wide swath of beaten down earth. The days are long and hot and the nights are windy and cool. The vegetation is not sparse, but nor is it healthy; the trees are twisted and their leaves are small and brittle and the only shrub that really seems to look even half alive is the sage that grows in large, dull green splotches. The spicy aroma is faint but still manages somehow to tickle your nostrils. This day is particularly hot, and in the attempt to distance yourself from the thought of cooking like a piece of meat out in this giant oven, you nudge your horse up next to Gug's massive war stallion. You can't help but be envious of the ogre's fine horse; even your own stallion back at home is not as well bred. I have been wondering for a time, you begin, biting your lip in contemplation, What has become of our other companions, Mu and Rigga. Did I hear it right that Mu is Murak's son? It is true you have been wondering this for a time. Quite a long time in fact. If nothing else, your long years spent at the Eilian court has given you a talent for sniffing out matters of discomfort when it comes to kings and queens. Gug sighs wistfully and turns to you with a tired expression, looking like a dog who has just realized that his bone has been found and stolen by a wolf
• Событие
  • 83, 49 подземелье
  • Сообщение: There, Gug says, pointing to the east, Rigga's farm is right over there. You look to the east and see what appears to be smoke drifting up from the pines that dot the landscape. That cannot be good.
• Событие
  • 88, 48 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The farmstead of Rigga, daughter of Hazrem, son of Flom, is still standing despite being burnt by what appears to have been a massive fire. The walls, though made of stone, are blackened and whatever roof had once covered the structure is now little more than a pile of wet soot. An old ogre woman, bereft of her eyes and hands, is hanging by a cord of black rope from the second story balcony, swaying gently in the valley breeze like someone who has fallen asleep on a child's swing-set. The words zok uj have been drawn in the ground beneath her feet with a stick. Horrible, horrible, horrible, Gug laments, once you and the rest of your party are close enough to make out these grisly details. Bok, please cut her down... The large ogre tosses away whatever it is he was eating and complies somberly with Gug's orders. What does that mean? you ask Gug, pointing at the words that are scrawled in the dirt. It means 'Rejected One' in the goblin tongue, Gug replies absently, not really paying attention to you. So goblins did this? you inquire, almost amused by the prospect of goblins trying to hang a two-hundred pound corpse from a second-story balcony. Unlikely, Gug replies in his same disinterested tone. A contemptuous groan can be heard coming from Duk. Clearly he doesn't appreciate your insinuation. You ignore him. Why are you suddenly so dispassionate? you ask finally after several more moments of silence. The sight of the old woman's blackened face and the periodic creak of the rope as she sways back and forth is enough to make you sick, and the ogre's reticence is not helping matters. It is hard to become anxious when you have seen the same thing a hundred times before, Gug answers simply, as if addressing a question on geography. Many times have we come to the houses of the common folk too late to be of use. And always it is the youngest children or the cripples or the infirm that we find hanging in the wind with these words -- not always in the goblin tongue -- scrawled underneath the bodies. We can make nothing of it, only that it is the work of the mysterious attackers that come from the Interior. The body of the old woman drops to the ground with a sickening thump as Bok finally saws through the rope. He bends down and picks up the body and walks away with it, presumably to bury it somewhere. Another few moments are spent in silence, and then one of Gug's minions arrives from searching the inside of the structure. A quick shake of the head confirms that there are no survivors within. Gug's shoulders slump further. What is it? you ask, sensing that there is something more wrong than just a few more dead peasants. I told you the infirm and the children are always slain. Of the others, the healthy adults... their bodies have never been found, he replies sadly. And Rigga? you ask. Gug shakes his head and doesn't answer. Gone, you whisper, answering for him. Taken. But to where?
• Событие
  • 86, 38 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The twin towers of Togor, Gug notes as you walk between them. Normally these towers help protect Togor from attacks. This is important because Togor is the seat of our northern provinces. If Togor fell in battle.... well, say goodbye to the North. From the looks of the castle ahead, however, Togor appears to already have fallen in battle. You keep your observations to yourself, for the time being.
• Событие
  • 86, 36 подземелье
  • Сообщение: There is no need to keep your observations to yourself upon reaching the front gates of Castle Togor, as your thoughts are as obvious as the hundreds of dead bodies hanging from the walls that surround the city. The fact that they are the bodies of children and the elderly and the cripples does not elude you, and hanging around the neck of each corpse is a sign that says, Mog fet, which you can only surmise means Rejected One. But rejected from what? You don't have time to consider the possibilities before your thoughts are interrupted by a loud Tin-YOCK! bellow from Gug. You turn to find that he is absolutely furious about something
• Событие
  • 45, 80 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The office of the Secret Sect is not difficult to find. It is the only house along this back-alley street somewhat ironically called Emerald Avenue that looks like it would be safe enough to live in. Not to mention that the only recent footprints anywhere nearby go into and come out of the front door. When your assertive but polite knock is answered by silence, Gug takes it upon himself to smash the wooden door off its hinges. Several robed Ogres passing by the entryway at the time jump in surprise and dart from your presence. Greetings! Gug bellows cheerfully, addressing the only mage frozen enough from shock to stand in main hall, a book held loosely in his grasp and a dumbfounded look of surprise on his face, I'm looking for the one you call Oet. He and I have a little business to take care of, although he doesn't quite know it yet. Uh.. he's uh... not here, the mage stammers, but after getting a look at Gug's iron greatsword and the thirty or so soldiers outside the door, he suddenly remembers that he was mistaken and agrees to take you to him. After moving down several hallways and descending at least three flights of stairs, you arrive in a small dark room lit by a handful of candles that are in dire need of replacement. A very old ogre with only two tufts of greenish-white hair puffing out from above his ears, rises from a table cluttered with books. The mage who led you here bows shortly and skitters out like a frightened mouse, leaving the older mage to look at you in poorly hidden surprise. Oh my, my, he squeaks in a wavy voice that reminds you of the noise you get when you wobble a lumberjack's saw back and forth. Is that Tendus, the Outcast? Aye it is, if I've ever seen him. What are ye doing here, may I ask? Tendus steps forward, an imposing figure compared to the stooped-over old wizard. Yes, it is Tendus, you old bag of skin and bones. I should flay you and your brothers alive for allowing me to be exiled while you had this nifty little secret society all hidden away (to think that I was never told!), but that's beside the point now, my dear 'friend'. We need to see Zobork, who I'm told is the leader of this secret sect. And we need to see him NOW. No, no, I'm afraid. Not possible, it isn't. Only members! Only members! The old man Oet throws up his hands as if the mere thought of you going into their headquarters is ludicrous. A few moments alone with Gug is enough to convince the old man to hand over the key, however. You thank him and leave, taking time to smash a few things for good measure.
• Тролль
  • 83, 57 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You don't even want to know what kind of creatures these are... they look like some dreadful disease has taken over their bodies. And that's not to mention the stench.
• Великий василиск
  • 75, 61 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Leapin' Lizards! And that's just not an expression anymore!
• Адский троглодит
  • 82, 71 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Huh? What are these freakish things? What happened to their eyes?
• Гарпия ведьма
  • 58, 85 подземелье
  • Сообщение: These goblin women seem to have sprouted wings! They also seem to have sprouted bad attitudes.
• Летучий змий
  • 66, 66 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Bugs the size of horses? What kind of carnival nightmare is this?
• Мантикора
  • 54, 70 подземелье
  • Сообщение: These things seem to be a mixture of more animals than you can count. But one thing's for sure, they're one hundred percent mean.
• Событие
  • 91, 26 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You see a few No Trespassing signs along the dirt path, but when was the last time you paid any heed to one of those? Gug tells you that this is the hideout of a known band of criminals who deal in stolen artifacts and other such illegal activities. They might have a good artifact or two you can steal, but other than that, they are worthless and better off avoided.
• Щит королей гномов
  • 88, 26 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You find an old but sturdy wooden shield among the rogues' treasure. You test it a few times for balance, and then add it to your inventory.
• Событие
  • 88, 23 подземелье
  • Сообщение: As Tendus promised, some distance away from the rogues' main hideout you find a small cave tucked behind an inconspicuous spruce tree. It is barely wide enough for two people to walk side-by-side, and the smell of sulfur and mold assaults your nostrils in hot gusts. The thought of going into this little rabbit hole makes you nauseous. Ok folks, Tendus says cheerfully, as if he was a tour guide, we're here. THIS is the cave? Duk whines, incredulous. It's a cave, isn't it? Gug says between clenched teeth. Stop it, both of you! Tendus orders. Look, this is obviously not a huge tunnel, and while I do certainly like the company of protection you've amassed, Sedran, taking an army into this place is just not going to be practical. Another quick glance at the tiny hole convinces you of the truth of it. It would take months for your whole army to navigate through that. You nod your head in agreement. I suggest, Tendus says, that we take only those whom we need to take and no more. Let's see, who do we need... there's you and George Scott, your second in command. Um... Polyphemus and his cyclops. We need them, or at least that's what our messenger from the Interior tells us. Me, of course. Gug and some of his ogre friends. I guess Duk can come, and he's going to need someone to talk to or he's going to drive us all nuts, so let him take some of his goblin friends. Oh yes, and we'll need to recruit a handful of those rogues to help us find our way. And that's about it. Everyone else will have to stay behind. Got it? Reluctantly, you agree, and begin issuing orders to the troops that you must leave behind. [Note
• Событие
  • 45, 33 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Suddenly, you find yourself falling, and with a splash, you land in a giant puddle of stagnant, smelly mud. Your first thought is about how hot and muggy it is. Your second thought is about all of the mosquitoes that are swarming around you like flies around dung. Your third is that you had better move because Gug has just appeared above you where the shiny doorway is, about ten feet above the ground in mid-air. You roll aside just in time to dodge the heavy ogre, although you don't avoid the giant splash of mud from his fall. He actually laughs when he sees you. You look like a turd! he roars. And you smell like one as well! With a snort, you form a ball of mud with your hands and toss it at him. It hits him square in the nose, and he falls over. Now, now, children, Tendus says from the banks of the little mud-pond. He is as clean as if he just took a shower. Get up before you embarrass yourselves! How'd you avoid the mud trap? you ask. I'm a wizard, he replies in a 'boy-you're-stupid' voice. I can float. You could, too, if you ever thought to use that magic I taught you. You stand up and clean yourself off as best you can. Gug does the same and gives you a look that promises revenge for your little mud-ball to the face. Where are we? you ask, looking around. Giant trees and dense vegetation surround you. A muddy trail leads to the north, where you can see an immense black wall. To the south the muddy trail also goes before it bends sharply to the west and beyond your sight. The Interior, Mu says. You hadn't noticed him emerge from the portal. Although not nearly as muddy as you or Gug, he didn't emerge unscathed from the poor positioning of the lith. I remember the stench. I don't recognize the exact location. If what Roland Swift says is true, and we are indeed very near this last outpost, then we are deep in the Interior, likely near Au Chiraz. We should be careful. So which way? you ask. North or south? The magma wall of which Roland spoke is north, if that giant wall is any indication, Mu says, looking at the blackness in that direction. I would like to see this last Outpost first, you argue, and perhaps meet this Andrea Mead. She might have insight into Kayerts and Carlier, and she also may want to accompany us to confront the man herself. I say we go south. We cannot go to Progress, Tendus interjects. Roland tells us that the malare has struck and also... other symptoms of Traemask's poisoning. We would do best to stay away from there. We must go north. You don't like being contradicted, but you seem to have no choice. When your army has all emerged from the portal, it winks out of existence, and you strike north, towards the magma wall and the realm of Traemask. [Player note
• Страж задания
  • 45, 31 подземелье
  • Сообщение: An enormous wall of hardened magma blocks your way north. Coincidentally (or perhaps not coincidentally), this is the path that Kayerts took before he departed with most of his army. The wall appeared several days later. It is going to take something mighty strong to remove it.
• Событие
  • 39, 38 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You are not happy at all about Andrea's condition. She is deteriorating rapidly. That Jack... he has a sinister mind. If he takes over.... you shudder. Tearing your mind away from such thoughts, you turn to the paper you hold in your hands. On it is written, Jim, Harold and Jed. Plus support. Jim, Harold and Jed already agreed to go with you. Fine swordsmen they are, and they still have their heads. It might help to recruit a few extra men at the castle -- a couple of monks from Saint Michael's perhaps. But you can't leave Andrea with absolutely no defense. She's going to need it. Shoving the note back in your pocket, you take out the messenger's medallion and rub it in between your fingers. You certainly hope this isn't a worthless quest.... All right, better get going. Harold said he and his buddies would meet you down at Saint Michael's this evening and you don't want to miss them.
• Рыцарь
  • 40, 38 подземелье
  • Название: Roland Swift
  • Биография: Knighted en route to the island of Terraminsc, Roland has only been in the Eilian military for a short while. He grew up a hunter and forager in the woods in a remote county under the Eilian throne. His father was slain by a bear when Roland was very young, and Roland was forced to learn to hunt and survive in the wilderness alone to support his mother and three sisters. When the last of those succombed to a plague that hit the back country during a harsh winter, Roland left his home to join up with the military. He quickly proved his worth during a sea battle with a Floagi fleet and was knighted after saving the life of a superior officer, Lady Andrea Mead. It is thought by his officers that he and the Lady now share a secret romance.
• Событие
  • 40, 35 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The Outpost of Progress lies before you. It is an ugly pit of a town, more mud than ground, really. Lazy, undisciplined soldiers lounge outside the taverns, some of them quarreling over minor things. Damn Kayerts for leaving you here, especially with these kinds of provisions. Clearly, you are going to have to venture away from here if you are ever going to amass the resources needed to protect yourselves from the growing armies of the strange creatures that are attacking outposts all over the region.
• Событие
  • 38, 43 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Saint Michael's is a warm little monastery built upon some of the only dry ground throughout the entire Interior. The monks who now study here constructed it shortly after Kayerts and his human underlings arrived here, searching for who knows what. It has the advantage of being right on the Malamazzi River. Some of the monks might be willing to join you on your trip to Port Calaman, despite its risks. They are surely in need of new supplies here -- candle wax, paper, and the like -- and their company will be more than useful. Ahead, close to the chapel, you can see Harold and his friends are already waiting for you.
• Крестоносец
  • 32, 46 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Jed, Jim and Harold are waiting for you outside the church, clad in armor and polishing their swords. They seem to have invited a few friends along for the trip. Harold stands and smiles when he recognizes you. Do not worry, Roland, he says cheerfully. I swear you will live to see Calaman. The river is no stranger to us, and these creatures are cut in twain by a blade just like any other! His bravery and liveliness are admirable, but seeing these men ready to lay down their lives for you and your quest is somehow... disheartening.
• Событие
  • 33, 48 подземелье
  • Сообщение: A small skiff waits for you, bobbing up and down in the choppy river waters like an apple. This is it, you think sullenly. No turning back now. You turn and look back at Saint Michael's and in the distance you can see the top of the Outpost of Progress on the hill to the north. Goodbye, Andrea, you whisper to yourself. And good luck.
• Летучий змий
  • 57, 43 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Giant insects seem to have these archers backed against a wall!
• Крепость
  • 5, 30 подземелье
  • Название: purple stuff!
  • Название: mo purple stuff
• Крепость
  • 25, 8 подземелье
  • Название: Creature Supplement
  • Название: More computer stuff!
• Указатель
  • 33, 5 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Muddy Ale Inn
• Замок
  • 15, 73 подземелье
  • Название: The Gate
• Страж задания
  • 17, 75 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The Wizards' ruse doesn't seem to be affecting you, because you can clearly see the small fishing wharf to the east. Lots of little fishing skiffs -- as well as a larger sailing vessel -- are docked alongside a very well-kept harbor-walk. Upon your approach, an old scallywag fulfilling every cliche about fishermen approaches, his peg-leg going 'clickety click' on the cobbled walk. Yar, I be told of yer comin', he wheezes without introduction, pausing only to remove the old pipe that is wedged in between his blackening teeth. If this man is a wizard, then you're a lizard, you think. I be able to fry yer little ass faster'n ye can spit, so I can! he barks. What is it with these wizards being able to read your thoughts? But I won't because good ol' Tobin told Archy here to be nice to ye. But I won't be lettin' ye have none of me boats, that's fer sure. You are about to protest, but he waggles his chewed up pipe in your face and interjects, Unless ye be doin' me a favor that is, he he. What is it? you ask tiredly, sick already of everyone asking favors of you. I sees that the old popper named Sel gave ye his magical boots. Well, I been wantin' those boots now for a while, but he says he was waitin' for something special to be doin' with them. Guess he meant you. But now that ye have them, I be needing you to do something for me with them. Ye see, Archy continues, hobbling close enough so you can smell the brine and fish on his clothes. I gots a family, one of the only human families that ever did live in this stinkin' swamp. And they still be livin' there, but I be fearful that those swamp creatures done found them and turned them into lizards! A man can't get on without knowin' his family be ok! So what I wants you to do is go find me folks and bring them back here. They live across the river somewheres, to the east of what you used to call South Post. 'Course, it ain't South Post no more. Lizard things done killed that town months ago. Great, you think. Now you get to go save some geezer's family, right smack dab in the middle of enemy territory as well. Don't ye be worryin', Archy says. If ye plan it right, ye can end each day in one of those many churches that are about every ten feet over there. Lizard creatures won't go near them churches. I'd start thar at the old outpost thems be callin' the Lip. Thar's a church right not far to the south of it. Once ye find me family -- you'll know it's them because they be protected by purple magic. If ye don't know how to get past the purple magic, go back and see me friends at the Pub. They know the password. Also, a friend o' mine lives in a little hut to the south. He may be able to show you on your map where me family is located. All right, you reply wistfully, not seeing like you have much of a choice. I'm glad ye agree! Archy cackles, Now get out of here and find me family. Bring them to me and I'll show ye how ye can get past the dreaded whirlpool!
• Событие
  • 26, 42 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The river veers to the west here, its murky brown waters rushing towards the setting sun on the distant horizon. The sounds of flowing water are soothing after months spent among the cacophony of the buzzing of insects and the chirping of swamp birds. Even the air feels fresher here upon the water, and it surprises you how different the dampness of your clothes feels when it's caused by the spray of water from your boat slapping against the river rather than by the moldy sopping air of the swamp's interior. You are leaning over the rail of your little skiff, enjoying the soft breeze coming off the water, when Harold comes up behind you wearing a look of concern to match his soggy brown robes. A hood is pulled up over his balding head to ward off the spray of water, making him look like one of the monks down below. Something weighs upon you? you ask without turning your eyes from the colorful sky. No, he replies simply. You have known Harold for many years. You had both grown up in the same town and had served together as regulars in the King's Infantry until you were promoted and he was left behind. Too quick to use a sword instead of a brain, they said when you asked about a promotion for him as well. If the difference in your ranks bothered him, however, he never let it show. When off duty, you often shared ales as equals and talked as friends into the long hours of the night. Here in the jungle, all you had was your friends. The only thing left was madness. Do you wish to offer council? you inquire, now turning to study his face. Already, the lines of age have sunk into the flesh around his eyes, despite his young age of thirty two. The life of soldiery will do that to you. You do know that this river will not take us to the Exterior, do you not? is all he says. Of course you know that... suggesting as much is almost an insult. Yes, of course, you reply with a sharp edge. Unless we want to ride the four hundred or so foot waterfall that separates the river from the ocean, we will have to land somewhere and make our way to the Jackal's Pass. But seeing as though every outpost within a hundred miles has been sacked by the creatures from the wilds, I find it unlikely that the Pass will be passable. We may have to find some other route to the beach. Aye, Harold returns. Likely we will... And the two of you leave the conversation at that.
• Событие
  • 9, 52 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The river is growing rocky, and it takes most of your concentration now just to make sure that you don't impale your ship on a spear of granite. It won't be too long, you decide, before the river will become impassable due to the swiftness and shallowness of the waters.
• Событие
  • 8, 57 подземелье
  • Сообщение: To the east you see the shipyards that belongs (or belonged) to Farleston Outpost (nicknamed the Lip for some unknown reason). It has been months since you heard anything from them. It appears, however, that the shipyards have not suffered from a lack of activity. Harold advises that you steer clear of the eastern coast, at least for now. It may be compromised, he says sternly, rubbing his chin. The west coast of the river is likely the most safe place to disembark, although I suggest first sailing down river as far as we can. You agree with his assessment of the situation and issue the orders.
• Событие
  • 5, 57 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The waters lap calmly against this narrow stretch of shoreline. You are almost sickened as the smell of sulphur and decay return to your nose. One of your men steps off the boat into knee-length mud, and you groan audibly. Looks like this is going to be a long walk to The Gate. You only hope what you find when you get there is more than just a spear through the stomach.
• Событие
  • 2, 57 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You come across a small house filled with domesticated dog-creatures. When did they start making homes for themselves? In any case, they offer to join up with you for some reason, and you heartily accept. Well, not too heartily, but one creature willing to fight by your side is one less creature willing to split your head open like a melon.
• Событие
  • 1, 64 подземелье
  • Сообщение: This swamp stinks, and your mood is getting stinkier. You are almost willing to be angry at Andrea for sending you on this mission. If death was in your future, you certainly would have rather faced in defending a home -- ridiculous of a notion as that is to consider the Outpost of Progress a home -- than out here alone, knee-deep in foul smelling muck and stinging insects!
• Событие
  • 1, 61 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Our way lies to the south, Harold informs you, clearly noting that you are looking to the east along this small river that undoubtedly leads back to the Malamazzi. These swamps seem to be relatively devoid of the armies that we are trying to avoid. Mayhap landing here and walking our way to the beach wasn't such a bad idea after all. Mayhap, is all you reply.
• Событие
  • 1, 71 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The river you have been following the last few days and which has been winding its way through jungle almost too dense to walk through suddenly opens up into an enormous valley. You almost gasp in surprise when, for the first time in days, your boot meets resistance when you set it down. Hard ground! you exclaim in wonder! I do not know this place, Harold says distantly, his voice the same, emotionless pitch that it always is. We have wondered out of my area of knowledge. That is all right! you exclaim again, slapping him on the back. We are out of the jungle -- at least the thickest part of it! And what's that over there? you ask, pointing east. A tower? Harold turns and follows the direction of your extended finger. Indeed, poking up above the mountains to the east, looking like a giant splinter, is a narrow tower of some sort. Without waiting for even a minute to savor the sweet aroma of dry earth, you begin jogging to the east.
• Событие
  • 6, 72 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Jutting up from the middle of this bowl-shaped canyon like a giant tree is a slender tower that seems to have been carved from a single slab of marble. An overgrown and poorly repaired cobblestone road winds its way from the small river to the very front of the tower. You approach warily, your steel-toed boots clicking loudly against the stones beneath your feet (hearing your own footsteps is oddly unsettling given how long it's been since you walked on anything but spongy mud). The doorway of the tower is a perfect isosceles triangle encircled by a ring of ensorcelled red and blue stone that glows eerily in the evening light. A faint humming seems to come from the structure. Harold tenderly places a hand around your arm. This is the work of magic, he whispers. We should go! You shake your head. Regardless of the fact that you've found a nice little valley in which to spend the night, you are still going to have to travel through Jackal's Pass at some point, and if these are wizards, you'd consider it a lucky omen. Wizards are as rare as black pearls these days, and a touch of real magic -- untrustworthy as it is -- on your side for once might be just what you need to succeed and return to Andrea in one piece with the one-eyed beasts she asked for. No, you reply simply, We're going to talk to these wizards and they are going to help us. You reach forward to knock on the vibrating door. I wouldn't do that if I were you! a creaky old voice chuckles behind you, Unless that is you'd like to spend the rest of your life with a bad sun tan that is! More laughter. You spin around, hands grasping clumsily for your sword (you never were the swashbuckling type), but by the time you find the hilt, Harold has his own rapier unsheathed and leveled at the old man standing innocently where just a few seconds before was nothing but empty space. The wizard opens his hands and shrugs with a goofy smile on his face. Dint mean to be startlin' you fellas like that. Just thought ya might like to be livin' a bit longer. You look like the kind of folks who have an important mission to be on, so you do, and I hate to see good folks die before the fun really begins is all! You open your mouth to speak but find yourself without words. Cat got yer tongue? the man laughs. Well, my name is Sel. Sel Selim to be precise but no need to be callin' me by my whole name. 'twould be silly! So -- his face suddenly becomes stern and thoughtful, You risked your life so that you could ask me if I could help you past Jackal's Pass. You got something you need to do at that Port Calaman, do you not? Well, wouldn't be any good anyway I don't think. The Port's likely a pile of dust by now, but I haven't checked it out lately, nope, nope. But you'll be wanting to go there anyway I suppose, 'cause why would you believe an old man like me? You are too stunned to speak. Even Harold, usually as impervious to surprise as a bowl of mud, looks flabbergasted. Who is this guy? I told you, the wizard replies to your thoughts, My name's Sel. If you don't like it, tough. I ain't changin' it on account of you! Ha! Finally you find words in your mouth
• Событие
  • 6, 75 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Stuck out in the middle of seemingly nowhere is a large wooden sign, covered with moss and thick spider webs. Harold is staring at it when you arrive next to him with a look of puzzlement on his face. He is scratching his head absently. What the hell is that supposed to mean? he asks.
• Указатель
  • 5, 75 подземелье
  • Сообщение: This Map Created by Timothy Duncan Send Comments to [email protected]. {Traemask the Fool 1, v1.26 (c)2001}
• Указатель
  • 12, 69 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Wizard's Pub - NE Mundanes will be turned into toads and stored in jars for later participation in bizarre and inhumane scientific experiments.
• Крепость
  • 22, 87 подземелье
  • Название: Domicile Four
• Событие
  • 11, 69 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Although the ground here has the consistency of drowned bread, your progress is expedited by the fortuitous spacing of large, flat rocks that offer at least the mimic of solid earth, even if you do have to hop from one stone to the next like a rabbit. You are about to call for a halt for the day when you spot what looks to be an old boardwalk, sort of like the kind you remember from the exclusive beaches back home, except made of soggy, stinky wood and covered with moss and fungi. It leads northeast and then continues south along the river. I remember this boardwalk, Harold says absently. Leads down to the Gate... never did see where it ended to the north.
• Событие
  • 17, 64 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You arrive at a small cottage sometime right before dusk. The warm glow of firelight shines through the cross-barred windows and a thin stream of smoke -- accompanied by the tangy scent of barbecued ham and apple cider -- issues from a lopsided chimney. A wooden sign on the exterior of the cabin reads, Wizard's Pub. Without hesitating, you enter through the cracked door. Inside you are surprised to find a very well lit room filled with men and women of all ages sitting in hushed conversation over a variety of board games. Some people are sitting by themselves, smoking pipes and reading books. A few of the older gents are collapsed in large leather chairs, their pointy hats kinked and falling over their closed eyes, and their hands resting peacefully on their plump bellies while sharp whistling noises escape from their snoring nostrils. A couple of the wizards look up upon your entry, but return to their tranquil activities without pausing to study you. Only one man seems to take notice of you, a young mage with nonetheless graying orange hair wearing a robe of gossamer green fabric. His eyes sparkle and seem to change colors in the few seconds you have to look at them. In a surprisingly deep and melodious voice, he bids you welcome to the wizard's pub. My name is Tobin of Aryne, he says warmly. And I am Roland of... the Outpost of Progress, you reply, shaking his hand. The wizard cocks an eyebrow at this. Hastily, you tell the man about Sel and the basic details of your mission. Ah, so you met Sel, he replies with a quick laugh, indicating that you should sit down in one of the giant leather couches in the center of the pub. He snaps his fingers and two serving lads come with snifters of scotch and small vials of an aromatic liquor that smells of almonds and peaches. You down the liquid graciously, glad to have a little fire in your belly after weeks of distilled swamp-water. The old geezer is still watching over the Needle, is he? That old chap will never expire! You shrug, not knowing how to add to this conversational thread. Tobin sighs... The creatures don't bother us here, he says. We only allow certain people to find us. We ARE wizards after all. We moved out of that old tower a long time ago, but Sel still refuses to leave, saying that the great Verianus will return one day. Not likely, that! But he is certainly right about one thing -- something foul is afoot. And we'd be happy to aid ye in any way we can! We can't get you past Jackal's Pass -- it's crawling with those evil vermin -- but we might be able to get you to the ocean. You see, he continues, leaning close, The Malamazzi River does go directly to the ocean -- via a very long drop. No boat could fall that far and stay afloat I reckon. But, on the far side of the lake just before the falls, behind a rock formation, there is a fissure in the lake's floor. There's a whirlpool there, and it's known that the whirlpool drains into an underground river that makes it's way to the ocean some hundred or so miles to the east. Of course, survivin' the whirlpool's got to be just as hard as survivin' the water fall! A few of the wizards of our order maintain a small fishing wharf to the southeast of the Gate. The Gate fell some time ago to the forces of the swamp, but our magic fools them into thinking that the shipyard is beyond repair. Go down there and pay them a visit -- they might know of a way you can survive the whirlpool and make it to the ocean in one piece. Then you can find Port Calaman and continue on your mission. You thank Tobin and allow yourself an hour or so to share another drink with him. You leave with your face flushed and your brain dizzy, but overall, you feel good, with a renewed sense of hope.
• Событие
  • 12, 73 подземелье
  • Сообщение: A patrol of lizardmen and other swamp vermin surprises you!!
• Событие
  • 13, 56 подземелье
  • Сообщение: As you make your way into the jungle towards the Lip, you can't help but notice the occasional human or lizardman corpses that lie across the beaten down ground that passes for a path. Is that a churchbell you hear in the distance? You can only hope Archy is right and the lizardmen have some profound fear of religion...
• Событие
  • 18, 55 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You heave a sigh of relief as the old monastery to which Archy alluded comes into view. It doesn't look like much, but if it keeps the lizard-folks away, it'll be enough. The monks inside greet you warmly enough, glad to have some visitors. They seem to have bunkered themselves in here for quite some time, afraid even to go outside to pick fruit from their rapidly deteriorating orchard. You ask them if they know how to get to South Post and, after exchanging worried glances, direct you due east, where you should encounter another small monastery. You thank them and spend the evening breaking warm bread and sharing conversation, as well as good mead.
• Событие
  • 29, 59 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You nearly miss this little church, tucked into a cleft in the mossy rock as if it was placed there intentionally by whoever built it to conceal it from would-be interlopers. Maybe it was... In any case, at first you are convinced that it is deserted, but after a little searching you uncover a rather paranoid looking monk hiding in what might have once been a wine-cellar. He seems insane almost to the point of delirium, but you can make out, between the foaming words and spittle, that the rest of his congregation fled months ago. The Southern Outpost? 'tis a frightful, paganistic place, meelord, he rasps, his eyes darting back and forth. The heathen creatures kill anything that passes for a living being. I'd not go near there if I were you. Not that you could, anyway. They's got that place guarded well, they do! Go south if you wish -- there's another chapel down there somewhere -- but ye may just end up backtracking here trying to find another way around.
• Событие
  • 35, 59 подземелье
  • Сообщение: A dirty goblin living in an even dirtier hut by the side of the road gives you a useful piece of information today. For the price of a piece of bread, he tells you that he knows the purple magic wall that you are looking for. Not ten miles to the southeast! he chimes in between mouthfulls of stale dough. But 'twon't be any use to you, as the lizard folks maintain a healthy vigil on a giant red gate 'bout halfway between here and there. Only other way is to the southwest, but you'll have to come pretty close to their base of operation - that human castle called Southern Post! Good luck to ye! har har... Chuckling, the goblin passes back into his hovel leaving you to contemplate his words.
• Событие
  • 30, 64 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Weak and tired from a hard day of hiking, you finally stumble into this chapel, which sits on a perch of rock about twenty feet above the canyon floor. There is nobody to be found inside, and you content yourself with a quiet meal of dried and salted meat and the company of friends. Unfortunately, one of your scouts returns early in the morning with reports of another well-guarded checkpoint to the south, hung with red banners. I see no way past the checkpoint, the scout says, his head hanging. You dismiss the man, disappointed. How can you get further south? There must be another way around. Perhaps the river......
• Событие
  • 22, 57 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You eye the raging rapids with skepticism. Magic boots will do you no good if you get caught under a rock! But if this is the only way to Southern Post, then you'll do what you have to do. You remind yourself that your boots only work for a day before they need to be recharged, so you had better find a clear space of land on which to spend the night.
• Событие
  • 26, 69 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You surreptitiously make your way ashore and sneak into small red tent directly to the north, making sure to steal some officers' uniforms while you're in there so that you can, provided you are lucky, pass by the red-checkpoints . Now all that's left is to find Archy's family, which lies somewhere to the east of Southern Post. Picking the best way there is probably not a trivial matter, however...
• Событие
  • 41, 64 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Finally! Archy's family must lie behind these purple wizards' barrier! You order your men to go inside, retrieve the troublesome relatives immediately, and come back without delay. The sooner you are out of this neck of the woods, the better you're going to feel.
• Событие
  • 26, 76 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The dreaded maelstrom can be seen lurking in the distance. Together with the waterfalls, they exert a strong pull on your little boat, and the small craft begins to shake. Harold clings to the sides of the boat like a man on a bucking horse clings to the saddlehorn, his knuckles white and his face green. He is staring daggers at you. You put your hands up in a what-do-you-want-me-to-do-about-it-you-big-sissy? gesture. You're going to be taking a short trip underwater, and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it....
• Событие
  • 14, 81 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You near Jackal's Pass and note with dismay that the old battlements are swarming with all kinds of mutant creatures. Too bad there isn't another way past these mountains!
• Указатель
  • 56, 31 подземелье
  • Сообщение: San Ignacio il Bianco
• Событие
  • 56, 34 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Ahead you see the old Chiesa San Ignacio il Bianco. This ancient church has been run by a loyal group of ogres for almost five hundred years. Named after an ogre hero, Ignacio Sandimocco, who was renowned for his compassion and dedication to improving the lives of the sick and the poor, the church now stands in partial ruin. According to legend, Sandimocco claimed to be the direct descendant of a holy deity and that his healing powers -- the evidence of which the authorities at Au Chiraz refused to believe -- were a gift to aid him in saving the world from evil. Prince Orkan Sagrimok of the Chirazzi, the barbarian empire that inhabited the Interior in those days, had Ignacio arrested for heresy and executed. But when the heated blade severed the prophet's neck, people were forced to cover their eyes, for Sandimocco's blood was bright white, lighter than the sun some said. Of course, the descendants of the Chirazzi give little credence to the story today, but the locals still believe, and this church was, at least until recently, well attended. Now, there is little left of the holy site. Some of the wall has collapsed and many of the buildings within are either completely destroyed, or look like they may fall at any minute. By report, there is only a small group of the monks left. It is a wonder that the mysterious lizard-creatures and their ilk haven't assaulted the monastery, but then again, you can FEEL the power radiating even from the ground. This place is sacred. Kayerts and your own men haven't yet explored the area to the northeast -- the Chizmak (descendants of the Chirazzi) are very protective of their land, but now is perhaps the time to seek their aid in defeating these mysterious creatures. And besides, the healer you seek may live within.
• Хижина предсказателя
  • 4, 51 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The healer's hut of San Frances Monastery is really little more than a tent. It is constructed of dirty blue canvas, and two large white crosses, the ancient alchemical symbol for healing, are embroidered on the door-flaps. Moaning can be heard from within. The inside of the hut is gloomy and stinks of sulfur and pus. Most of the operating tables are empty but uncleaned, littered with bloody rags from former occupants. A few of the tables hold corpses. In the far corner of the tent, two cowled monks are endeavoring to hold down a wounded man while a third monk is sawing at his amputated leg. Be still, the monk growls. I must remove the rotten flesh. The victim is screaming by now, and lashes out with one of his hands, knocking one of the healers back into one of the candleholders behind him. Another scream, and blood squirts from the leg, drenching the man with the saw. The sight makes you nauseous. Suddenly, a short monk wearing the brown robes of a novice appears before you. His face flickers in the candlelight, making him resemble a ghost. He is holding a tablet of parchment and a quill pen. Complaint? he asks without smiling, his pen poised to begin taking notes on your ailment. I'm looking for Madam Timen, you reply with eyes still locked on the back of the tent. The screaming has died down. The wounded man must either be dead or unconscious. Yes, aren't we all. She is not here. Complaint? The monk seems bored with his job. That's ok Bogen, a deeper, more masculine voice calls from behind him. I'll see to them. A large man, donned in blue robes with a gold fringe, appears from the smoky darkness. His is covered in fresh blood. You look behind him and see that the wounded man is now unattended. Did he die? you ask as Bogen, the brown-robed initiate disappears. The blue monk turns his head and looks at his former patient. Yes, I'm afraid so. They hobble in here every few days, usually missing an arm or a leg. He turns back to you and studies you. They used to be a lot more frequent but then the monsters started killing them all and there aren't many left alive. Thankfully, the creatures don't come near the monastery, so we are safe. Safe, but for how long? you wonder silently. What is the problem? the monk asks finally. You seem whole enough. I hear you were asking for Madam Timen? You nod. I'm afraid she is gone, looking for a cure for her father, Master Chlorthonis, the master healer and a wizard of some power. He fell ill about a month ago, and is now really little more than a vegetable. Madam Timen searches for Glowenberries, but such has not been seen in this jungle in ages. We haven't heard from her in over a month. Is there nothing I can help you with? You explain to the man about your condition and the healer at San Ignacio and the ugly monstrosity atop your head. The blue monk, who tells you his name is Vitrochio, nods while listening to your story. Mental disorders are beyond my specialty, he says when you are done. The death of this land and the arrival of these creatures has brought with it many strange afflictions. If anyone can help you, it is Madam Timen or her father. As I said, we do not know where Madam Timen went, but her father may know, if he can stay awake long enough to talk to you. He is currently living in his house a short distance to the northeast of Gogonkil. A friend of mine, Maklar, is taking care of him. Maklar will not let you in unless you can prove that I sent you... hm... ah! Vitrochio fumbles in his robes and produces a small ring. Here, he says, handing it to you. Maklar will recognize it. He gave it to me. Will you take it to him and see if you can't help Chlorthonis?
• Цитадель
  • 44, 83 подземелье
  • Название: Tailia
  • Посещение Варвар: Название
• Указатель
  • 3, 49 подземелье
  • Сообщение: San Frances
• Странник
  • 46, 7 подземелье
  • Название: Omastacon
• Событие
  • 13, 49 подземелье
  • Сообщение: A wave of nausea passes over you and you suddenly find yourself vomiting on the deck of your skiff. Harold finds you on your knees only moments later and lends you a helping hand. Roland? he says with concern. Are you ok? You wave him off. It's the malare, you reply. Getting worse... Here, Harold says, holding out a small green plant. Chew on these leaves. They will help. Glassroot? you reply. Harold nods. Where did you get it? Though a well known cure for malare, it unfortunately only grows in the desert. I have my stash. How is it do you think I am the only one around here not sick? Rather than answering, you stuff a couple of leaves in your mouth and chew. They are bitter and hard and their taste alone is enough to make you want to spill your stomach again. But you can feel the juice tingling on your tongue... if Harold has more where this came from, you may survive the illness yet.
• Событие
  • 106, 60 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Your eyes snap shut as you emerge from the cave. The sunlight is so.... bright! You never thought it would feel so good to breathe fresh air again. At that notion, your thoughts suddenly turn to Andrea, who is still no doubt stuck deep in the swamp surrounded by those creatures and her own madness. If she still lives at all... You shake the terrible thought from your head. It will do no good to dwell on such things. A sudden cheer goes up from behind you. Several soldiers break into a run to the south. You follow their trajectory and a smile erupts from your face. It is the ocean. You have made it.... and though you don't know what you'll find at Port Calaman, for the moment your heart explodes with joy for if nothing else, you shall not die bereft of at least one last look at the beautiful sea.
• Событие
  • 107, 63 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You are quite shocked to see a small tent sitting by the ocean on this remote stretch of beach. A lone man emerges from the canvas door and smiles when he sees you. A gold front tooth glitters in the afternoon sun. Greetings human men, he says, opening his arms wide. I am called Shakeet, and know of your coming! You know of my coming? you reply warily, your hand instinctively drifting to the hilt of your sword. There is being no need for that, my friends, Shakeet laughs. Sel Selim tells me of your coming. See, we have prepared a ship for your arrival! You turn and are stunned to see a large galleon sitting in the small bay to the south. Was that there a minute ago? Before you have time to ask, Shakeet approaches and grasps your shoulders. His breath smells like honey and lemon and his eyes are dark like his beard. Come inside, friends. I have many wondrous things. Lamb sautйed in ginger and cardamom and fresh grapefruit with the purest sugar for desert. Come, come! The man turns and walks back into his massive tent, his colorful robes flying out behind him. He is almost too friendly to warrant being cautious and so you follow him inside. A good meal in your belly will do you some good before setting back out on the waters.
• Событие
  • 103, 88 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The bay before you is a sight to behold. While the fires no longer burn, the blackened wood and floating debris is testament enough of the fate of Calaman. Harold shares with you a long look at the remains of what was your home for several months. What in the name of the gods... It is no wonder we haven't heard from Calaman in months! you exclaim. Come, let us drop anchor... we must explore this place and determine what has happened! And be ready... I want to go fully armed. There seems to be some blue flags by Calaman Keep -- perhaps we should go there!
• Событие
  • 96, 85 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The once thriving town of Port Calaman has been completely destroyed. All that remains are the empty husks of buildings and corpses. By the hundreds and thousands, there are corpses. And of course by the thousands and by the tens of thousands there are birds feasting on the corpses. And after some scrutiny you find that there are even corpses feasting on the corpses. What heathen magic is this? you gasp. Though they jeer and threaten you menacingly, slithering and hissing like snakes, the walking dead seem to stick to the temple to the northwest. You order your men not to get too close. I do not know, Harold replies, saddling up. But let us steer clear of this place. We should check out the keep and be on our way. You nod, issuing the orders, but you can't help feeling disheartened. Is this to be the end of your mission? Andrea will certainly not be happy if all you bring back is tales of death, sacked cities and walking zombies. But if Port Calaman has been sacked - nay, eradicated - what hope can there be that the goblin and ogre cities to the north remain standing?
• Хижина предсказателя
  • 43, 34 подземелье
  • Сообщение: This small hut on the outskirts of the Outpost is reserved for messages from foreign dignitaries. By its ramshackle appearance, it's been a while since you had any ambassadors coming through. If they do, you'll know them by their sash of office.
• Событие
  • 99, 74 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The goblins of Pogug eye you warily as you guide your horses through their village. It is hardly the bustling town of commerce you remember. Mothers clutch their children tightly and glare at you with open distrust and an unsettling blanket of anxiety and disquiet hangs in the air like a thick fog. Something has happened here... but what? And why do the goblins seem to blame you? They were so friendly before. To the east you see a small hut bearing the mark of Eilia. This was not here before either... perhaps there you can find some answers.
• Тюрьма
  • 29, 83 подземелье
  • Название: Zij the Frog
• Страж задания
  • 1, 86 подземелье
  • Сообщение: This wall looks pretty sturdy, but if you had some creatures who could help knock it down.....
• Событие
  • 3, 98 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The fires still burn here. But the dying no longer scream. Strange, but only the corpses of women and children can be found. No adult men.... As you see to your wounded, you begin to survey the ruins of the Ogre Treasury. Most of the buildings have been burned to the ground. Here and there you see overturned wagons and spilt crates of gold and jewels. Whoever did this was in a hurry, you muse, else they wouldn't have been so careless with what they left behind. Being in a hurry means fear of being caught, but the creatures with which you've been fighting so far seem to have a fear of nothing. So who led this assault? My lord? The voice comes behind you. It is soft with grief. You turn to see Jim, your old friend from Saint Michael's. He is bleeding from a bad cut on the arm. One of the lizard creatures had also caught him on the leg with an arrow. He seemed not to notice. Instead, he wore a face filled with the pain of loss. What is it? you ask, approaching the man. It's Harold, sire, he chokes back. He is... asking for you. You don't have to ask for a clarification. You had seen your friend get taken from behind by one of the dog creatures on the bridge, but Harold had spun quickly and split the mongrel in two with a two handed riposte. You hadn't bothered to check up on him since that time. Without acknowledging Jim, you dash for the healer's tent, erected shortly after the battle. A couple of the more lightly wounded are lying outside drinking water or ale and sharing the stories of their injuries - often greatly embellished - to any would-be listener. Throwing open the flap, you stagger into the dark room. The smell of blood and whiskey and death burns your nostrils. You nearly trip over a man with a severed leg in your mad rush to the table where Harold is lying, naked from the waste up. The legless man screams but you pay him no heed. A nasty puckered wound, gray and evil, stretches along his side from his hip to just below his left nipple. A weapon alone did not do this. Harold? you whisper urgently. Harold can you hear me? No answer. The healer touches you lightly on the shoulder. My Lord, the man says, I'm afraid it is too late. Harold is... slain, sire. He is in a better place, the gods willing. Unable to hold it in any longer, you burst into tears and collapse on your friend's body. How long had you known the man? How many beers had you shared? How many tales? How many dreams? And now he was dead, without even a goodbye. The healer touches you again tenderly. He asked for you, sire. I'm sorry, but the poison killed him quickly. There's nothing I could do. Something inside you feels like lashing out. You get the sudden urge to reach over and tear the healer into pieces, to rip the man's tongue out and break his face and.... All you can manage is a weak sniffle and a thank you before leaving the tent.
• Хижина предсказателя
  • 5, 104 подземелье
  • Сообщение: An old crone cackles when you enter her hut which stinks terribly. Well, we be havin' visitors I sees! Ack! Or have ye come to finish the job those vermin started? No matter! Me husband be dead but I'll take ye on! Don't be thinkin' ye'll be gettin' under mAn old crone cackles when you enter her hut, which stinks terribly. Well, we be havin' visitors I sees! Ack! Or have ye come to finish the job those vermin started? No matter! Me husband be dead but I'll take ye on! Don't be thinkin' ye'll be gettin' under me skirts without a fight! She rushes towards you, screeching like a wounded cat, but Jim intercedes and grabs her from behind before she can do any real damage, although she catches him badly on the chin with her dirk in the process. Go ahead, curs. Do yer worst. It'll hert ye more than it'll hert me! she cries. Nobody is going to hurt you, woman. Be calm! you say soothingly, instructing Jim to let her go, which he does. The woman quickly runs and takes cover behind a chair. You notice that a man - her dead husband, you assume - is sitting in it. We just want some information, you tell her. Information be expensive! the old woman hollers from behind her barricade. 10,000 gold to be exact for whatever ye want to be knowin'! Now pay up or get yer arses out o' me home before I call my husband! Jim gives you a look that says, She's a real loony and then says, Well, what should we do? Loony or not, she may know something, so you better come up with the money.
• Событие
  • 11, 104 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Hundreds of dead ogres stuffed in black cages hang from the walls outside of the small keep, which was obviously - prior to the assault on the treasury - the barracks that housed whatever army protected this island. This was not an outside job, Jim informs you. In the last couple of days, he's become a little bit less timid, clearly sensing that the pain caused by Harold's death has numbed a bit. To some extent that is true, but although it no longer burns, the wound still throbs when you think about it. What do you mean? you ask. The gate was not forced, he replies, indicating the door of stout timber that hangs ajar. Whoever did this, he was trusted. But there are the dead bodies of lizardmen everywhere, you point out. It wouldn't be the first time somebody betrayed his own people. But who was it? You shrug, clearly having no idea.
• Инферно
  • 3, 4 подземелье
  • Название: Red Grave
  • Посещение Варвар: Название
  • Название: Tan things!
  • Сообщение: To recruit nasties.
  • Название: Tan Creatures
  • Название: No stone no ore!
  • Сообщение: NO stone no ore!
• Гнолл мародер
  • 11, 102 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You spot a group of dog-men pulling a cart of gold and other valuables.
• Событие
  • 31, 84 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Your attack was swift and lethal. You men sallied forth and struck like a viper, biting fast and furious. A hundred rogues were killed before an alarm was even raised, and the fifty men you lost during the struggle was nothing compared to the several hundred enemy casualties. But still... no ogres to be found. You survey the prisoners. They look away when you glare at them. At your order, Jim had them all stripped naked and thrown to the mud. Naked men are more like to talk to you candidly than those who are clothed, you've found. The abominable creatures, the lizards and the dogs, you put to death immediately. Even if they could talk, you had no interest in what they might say. I am looking for an ogre, you say loudly and clearly. One who led the assault on the Ogre Treasury. If you know where I might find him, you will live. If not, I'll kill you. A fair deal, and one that men of your low intelligence should be able to understand! None of the captives speak and one of them spits at you as you walk by. With out a word, you unsheathe your sword and slash hard and wide, removing the top half of his head in a single stroke. Blood and brains drench the man kneeling next to him. You toss the bloody blade in the mud and continue walking. That was impolite of him, you explain to the rest of the captives. I do not tolerate impoliteness. If you are aiding these creatures, you nearly spit the word, you are my enemy. I will not hesitate to kill my enemies, as you have just seen. You no doubt are working for gold. I can give you gold. Tell me where I can find this ogre and you will live. You stop walking and wait. Nobody says anything. You wait some more. Someone coughs. Fine, you say finally, maybe I need to loosen your tongues. Stomping back to the bloodied captive, who is staring frightfully at the half-decapitated corpse beside him, you grab another sword from a nearby soldier. With a grunt, you bring the rogue to his feet by his wet, muddy hair. There is fear in his eyes, and well there should be. There is now two feet of cold steel pressed against his manhood. Tell me what I need to know, rogue, you sneer, or the next time you speak it will be in a voice two octaves higher. Still nothing. Cursing, you let the man go. Killing is one thing. Maiming is another. You don't have the heart for it. Sighing, you drop the blade and stomp off. Wait, a voice pleads. You turn and are surprised to see a well-dressed ogre bearing the standard of Murak Mol on his tunic. Where he came from, you have no idea. You quirk an eyebrow expectantly. There is no need for more death. They will not talk because they know the price for spilling their knowledge. It is worse than anything you could do to them, the ogre says. I entreat you, follow me. My Lord Zij will see you. His tent is behind the rogue encampment. The ogre turns and makes his way back through the bushes. You follow swiftly, not wanting to lose the trail.
• Событие
  • 30, 83 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Hidden in the undergrowth is a large camouflaged blue tent. The white tree on a blue field - the symbol of Murak Mol - is painted liberally across the front of the structure. The ogre who led you here, who towers almost 9 feet above the ground, bows curtly before announcing, My Lord Zijitakis Mol, nephew to his Grace Murak Mol, will see you, if you please. He waits inside. With a grunt of thanks, you enter the tent and are surprised at how luxurious it is. Carpets and marble busts of great past leaders crowd the room, and a large throne, made of brass and oak, sits in the center on a raised dais. The figure sitting in the chair is a stark contrast to the entire picture. Short (for an ogre), fat, ugly and with a crippled hand that hangs loosely by his left side, Zij Mol looks more like a toad than a prince. As if reading your thoughts, the prince pops out of his throne and waddles over to you. Yes, they call me the Frog. Stop gaping or something is liable to fly in there. The nickname is well founded, I'm afraid. So, you're here to bring me in, I see. It took my uncle long enough to hunt me down, though I didn't think it would be a human he would send. Do not worry. I shall go peacefully. This is all a surprising turn of events and you need time to digest it. How did you know? Zij looks at you almost with amusement. Because I stole that stupid club, you nit-wit. And I'm sure he's just seething about it. Has he been babbling about his divine right to rule? That's a load of poppy-cock. But I'll bring it back. I don't understand, is all you can manage. There's no need for you to understand. It wasn't much of a choice, really. But if Murak has found me, then there's no need for me to continue hiding. The game is up, my time has drawn to an end. Give me a day to pack up and I will head back to Ogretree. You need hurry, you say finally, Your Lord Uncle has immediate need of his Club. I am to bring it to the Cave of Polyphemus immediately and meet him there. You hold out your hand to accept the object of your quest Then I shall take it to him. I stole it and I shall return it. I doubt it will make Murak any less angry, but if the gods of the World Forest are to judge me, let my final action be included in my records, he says solemnly. How can I be sure I can trust you? you ask. I swear on my ancestor Craag the Hack that I will not betray you. Here, he says, removing a chain from his neck. Bring this to Togor, my home. They must know that a new Guardian of Togor must be chosen. They will bear no love for me, for what I did. But they may have something that will aid you in whatever task faces you next. Send word to my uncle that I will meet him at the Cyclops Cave. My wagons are just a short distance to the west. Come help me pack and I shall be on my way. With drooping shoulders, he turns away from you and plops back down on his chair. You almost pity him, and you don't even know what he did. (Player Note
• Хижина предсказателя
  • 88, 34 подземелье
  • Сообщение: A tired looking ogre official looks up when you enter. We are looking for the Lord of Togor, he says disdainfully, who disappeared shortly before the creatures took over our lovely city. If you find any word of him, please bring it here. He'll be wearing a Necklace of Swiftness, the symbol of our city.
• Древесина
  • 91, 89 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Before you lie the remains of a number of houses and other buildings that once made up this town. If you're going to rebuild the place, you're going to need supplies, and since trees don't appear to be in abundance in this area, you're going to have to rely on these scraps.
• Событие
  • 31, 85 подземелье
  • Сообщение: It was Jim's idea to come under the cover of darkness, and a good thing he suggested it. This little spot of swamp is swarming with rogues, lizardmen and walking mongrels, what the ogres seem to call noles. Somehow, you have managed to get your entire force on dry land without being noticed, and you've been waiting for several hours for things to settle down, but if anything, the encampment has become even MORE awake since the break of evening, if such is possible. A few feet away, you can see Jim crouched behind a mossy log, his sword at the ready. He looks at you for advice. With the element of surprise on your side, an ambush would probably be successful, but where is this rogue ogre that the old crone told you about? If he hears a commotion, will he flee? That would be a dire mistake, for finding him again could be nigh impossible. Suddenly, one of the men beside you sneezes. You elbow him hard in the kidneys, but it is too late. A passing rogue, in conversation with a few friends, comes to a sudden halt and looks around. He whispers something to his buddies and draws his sword. The buddy runs toward the encampment while yelling something. Ack, damn the luck! you curse. You've no choice now. Without another thought, you order your attack.
• Указатель
  • 39, 90 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Wishes Cost 2 Cents Each (Owners are not responsible for wishes that don't come true)
• Бутылка
  • 34, 93 подземелье
  • Сообщение: HELP... the creatures, they have surrounded us!!! Please, send help... HELP!!!! - Lord Canos Quntyn of Southern Post
• Указатель
  • 88, 92 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The Cyclops Cave
• Страж задания
  • 87, 92 подземелье
  • Сообщение: A large mahogany door bars your entrance to the Cyclops Cave. You bang on it and the loud thuds echo in answer. A few moments pass and a small wooden bar set in the door slides across. A single milky eye peers out at you from the darkness. Who is it that knocks upon our door? a voice from behind rumbles. The eye eyes you and blinks. If you think to petition our aid, abandon the notion. Until such time as the rightful ruler of Ogretree, the wielder of the Ogre's Club, presents himself to us, we shall remain shut off to the world. Go. The bar slams shut, preventing further protests.
• Событие
  • 87, 91 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Surprisingly, the door to the Cyclops cave is ajar. So the messenger spoke true. Your callow nephew Zijitakis has the Club of your ancestors and bartered his way into Polyphemus's layer. With a silent growl, you enter the cave. It's going to feel good wringing Toad's little neck.
• Событие
  • 45, 30 подземелье
  • Сообщение: After a few hours rest, the Cyclops and their King catch up to you and rejoin your party.
• Событие
  • 96, 96 подземелье
  • Сообщение: If Saed is angry because you disobeyed his order to stay aship, he does not show it. No outriders have come to chastise you. He must know you disembarked, however. You can see his army up ahead. They are lumbering along slowly and you are content to stay behind at a distance. You aren't sure why you feel it necessary to follow him, but something about the situation doesn't sit right. You feel better for being able to watch the Admiral from a distance. If something happens, you want to know about it immediately.
• Событие
  • 3, 45 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The giant brass doors to this crypt have been dented and cast aside, leaving a gaping dark hole leading down into darkness. It appears someone has broken in here, but for what?
• Событие
  • 45, 26 подземелье
  • Сообщение: A small group of human guards tell you that Sedran bade them to prohibit anyone from following him. Sorry Lady Mead, one of them says, but orders is orders!
• Событие
  • 45, 8 подземелье
  • Сообщение: A narrow path twists its way through the treacherous landscape. Rivers of magma flow from countless erupting volcanoes and collect in a single thick, oozing stream that sluggishly meanders through the valley. Large mounds of igneous rock occasionally block your path, taking you hours to remove even with the help of the cyclops. Tendus Clevus, usually such a cheery fellow, walks with his head down and his shoulders slumped, as if the very sight of the cataclysm is a cause for weakness. Oh, poor, poor Traemask, what have you done? he whispers over and over like a madman. After what seems like days of trudging through the hellish landscape, you come upon a small army of creatures encamped in a widened portion of the valley. They do not seem like the other strange creatures that have invaded this land; no, this is something else entirely. If nothing else, these creatures are set apart by the simple fact that they seem to have lost the will to fight for anything. They just stand about, staring wistfully at the sky or at the ground, trying to puzzle some meaning out of life. It is almost... sad. Elementals, Tendus tells you when you call for a halt. They are the guardians of the World Forest. But if legend is any guide, they should be fearsome creatures, fervent in their desire to protect the World Tree. These look... pathetic, defeated, dead. A rider from among the camp comes riding forth. He is a burning man mounted on an enormous black stallion. The beast's eyes glow with flames that match his rider. Your men scatter as the man rides fearlessly into the midst of your army. Why have you come, mortal? the man bellows, his voice sounding unnatural, like a furnace. Tendus steps forward before you can speak. I am a wizard, the ogre mage declares. I know your kind, the flaming man speaks without drawing his gaze from you. We seek to enter the World Forest, fire lord. We mean no harm; we want to help. Something tragic has happened... Traemaskeelix... Traemaskeelix is dying, the fire lord snaps. The flames surrounding his body pulse in tune to his anger. Entry is not permitted. The last humans caught us by surprise and nearly killed all of us. I will not be so duped again. Prepare thyself for a fight! We have few of us left, but enough to hold to our vows and protect the Forest. Without waiting for an answer, the fire lord wheels his mount and gallops back to his army. Tendus shakes his head. Let us be thankful that Kayerts was able to defeat Omastacon's army, else we'd never have the manpower to proceed, he says. If Kayerts hadn't beaten him, you remind him, We wouldn't need to be here in the first place. Who is this Omastacon? He is the Lord of Fire. A general among elementals. Be wary, for his control over fire is heralded in the books. His army seems to be crippled, though. Make good use of the cyclops; they will get us through this mess. And remember, the wizard warns you, I must survive, else you will never find your way into the Forest.
• Событие
  • 8, 14 подземелье
  • Сообщение: To the north lie the ruins of Red Grave, Andrea, one of your soldiers says with a salute. This place is cursed. We should not go there.
• Указатель
  • 23, 88 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Phase Two
• Указатель
  • 1, 5 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Phase Three - Self Leadership
• Рыцарь
  • 103, 4 подземелье
  • Название: The Narrator
• Указатель
  • 104, 4 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Greetings Narrator. Your task in this world is short. Only THREE tales need to be told. You know the drill - go past the signs when instructed.
• Указатель
  • 103, 7 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Narrator Event Two
• Указатель
  • 103, 6 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Narrator Event One
• Золото
  • 104, 5 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Protection from Week of the ____
• Событие
  • 102, 6 подземелье
  • Сообщение: She is as beautiful as you remembered, even covered in mud. When you found her, it was from a precipice overlooking a valley. She had been engaged with a small band of the lizard creatures. Seeking to impress, you had ridden down the mountain slope and taken her enemies from behind so quickly that they (neither the enemies nor Andrea's group) never saw you coming. A quick downthrust from your sword had sent the lizardmen's leader's head spinning through the air only to land practically in Andrea's lap. She had comically fallen from her horse and into the mud, so shocked that she could not even be angry about it. Afterwards, as she was cleaning herself off, you got quite a scolding, but swiftly followed by a tight embrace and a very nice warm kiss. She seems to be as happy to see you as you are to see her. I had never thought to see you again, my dashing knight, she whispers in your ear. Her hug leaves you covered with mud but you are too giddy to care. I would never leave a lady, you reply, taking a bow that would match even the fabled Sir Garth Mayolin, who legend had it had gone bald because he bowed so low that his head oft scraped against the ground. It is good to see you again, my love! My love? she says with a wry smile. So I'm your love now, is it? I'd had hoped you would be! you reply, brushing her nose with yours. Oh Roland, I so missed you! she cries, hugging you again and again and again. Finally, after long moments of such mushy fairy-tale, little-boy-gagging nonsense, you pull her back and look at her from afar. With her hair wild she is quite comely, you decide, in a fierce sort of way. Where is Harold? she says suddenly, her face flushed from the surprise and the hugs. I had hoped to welcome him back as well! He was slain in battle, I'm afraid, you tell her, suddenly sober. A fine soldier and a good friend... Aye, he was, she agrees, sorry to have brought it up. And how are you? What news of the Interior, and of your... sickness? you say the last with a bit of trepidation, not wanting to wake that monster if he was still lurking. This is supposed to protect me for a time, she says, knocking her fist against the hideous skull on top of her head. But I fear that its power won't last much longer. I had wondered what that was when I saw you. It looks good on you, though, you quip, Brings out the color of your eyes! Oh stop it, she says, punching you in the arm. It works, that's all that matters. And things here as you can see are going well. We've got a handle on the Interior, at least for a time. Although there are still sizable enemy armies on the outskirts. With you here, though, I can split up the army and conquer more quickly. That would mean I have to leave you again, you sulk. True, but we would be able to stay in communication, and when this is over, we shall make a life for ourselves, I promise. She says the last doubtfully, but you don't want to spoil the good mood, so you say nothing further on the subject. Then you remember. Reaching into your vest, you pull out the small vial of mercury that was left for you at the Ambassador's Hut. I'm supposed to give this to you, you tell her while offering it. What is it? she asks, turning it over in her hands. And what am I supposed to do with it? You shrug. It was left for me at The Outpost. I was told to give it to you and that you'd know what to do with it. She gives you a strange look and then puts it away. Taking her by the arm, you lead her back to her tent, where some of her men introduce themselves to you. You greet them all happily and make some introductions to your own men as well. Later, after the day's festivities are ended, you find yourself in her tent sharing a glass of wine. Between cute remarks and little love pinches, you fill her in on Calaman and Sedran. She takes the worst of the news without frowning and mentions that she's heard of this Sedran, although nothing recent. He's here to help us, Andrea, you tell her. Even now he makes his way to the magma gate with the Cyclops you requested. He instructed me to tell you to continue your campaign here in the Interior. It should be me following Kayerts's path, she says absently, Not him. That may be true, you reply, But orders are orders. He has put guards up to disallow anyone from following. I will find another way in, is all she says. You shrug and give her another kiss. Whatever she plans to do in the future, she's yours tonight. You blow out the candle, put down your wine, and begin fumbling at the laces of your clothes while she nibbles on one of your ears.
• Событие
  • 102, 7 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Red Grave was once a mighty temple, and although now it little resembles its former self, the old stronghold is still a mighty fortress. After many hours of hard fighting, you are able to breach the front gate with the aid of a giant felled oak tree used as a battering ram. The old door that served to block the temple's main entryway, though braced with iron, was soft and rotten from many untended years in the swamp's humid air, and it only took three or four whacks with the massive log to send it splintering inwards. The creatures of Red Grave's garrison were unlike anything you've ever seen before, but they die just like anything else with swords through their bellies. Although you lost many good men storming the castle, you can at least safely say that the organized attacks on the Interior should be finally terminated. That doesn't mean they won't come back, however. Sedran must see to that. Finally you find the stout door to the main antechamber of the temple. It is barred, but again the wood is weak and within minutes it is little more than splintered rubble. The dark chamber beyond beckons you with a light, fetid breeze. There is a smell of fire and brimstone to the air. You enter carefully and are beset by several more of the devil-creatures. Sir Thomas Ment and his cousin, a timid but skillful young knight named Castor, easily dispatch them to the netherworld from which they came. Wiping his gore-covered sword on one of the corpses, Ment points to the giant throne in the center of the room. You look at the figure sitting in it, and gasp. Arendt? you stammer in shock. Lord Arendt Kayerts? How is it so that you are here? The Admiral and Lord under which you had served for years stands slowly. He is a powerfully built man, dark-skinned and with the lean musculature of a trained warrior. Though over forty and with graying black hair, he has not suffered from a degeneration of his natural fitness. A heavy sword-breaker is belted to his left side and a longsword leans casually against the iron throne. He is wearing mail with engraved with the sigil of his house - an eagle, head cocked sideways - and a cape of blue and gold. He neither smiles nor acknowledges that he knows you. You step forward cautiously without drawing steel. You have no doubt that Kayerts could outmatch you in a contest of arms, and it would do no good to bare a sword against your commander unless forced to do so. Trying to smile and remain calm, you continue walking forward. My Lord, I do not understand, you ask when you have approached to within casual speaking distance. His face remains solid, unyielding, cold, and you can't help but notice that his eyes burn with a blue intensity. Why are you -- Before you can get your question out, Kayerts has a sword in his hand quicker than your eyes can see him grab for it. He lashes out, and it is all you can do to dive to the side, catching the blade on the back of your shoulder. Fire shoots down your back and you can feel warm stickiness leaking from the wound. You curse, fumbling at your own sword. But he is on you again, swinging his blade in tight, controlled arcs. He knows what he is doing; he is a master swordsman, having trained under the great Sir Lancel Menred. His swings are all calculated, even, flawless in their execution. You parry one blow only to be caught off-guard by the next. Back and back he drives you, pressing the attack with lethal force, his feet gliding with the rest of his body instinctively to offer him the perfect balance. He is a wall of steel, unrelenting. Again and again you block his blows, your sword clumsily getting in between his savage strokes and your head. You arm throbs from meeting blow after blow and your shoulder feels like it's on fire. Speaking is not possible; he barely leaves you time to think, let alone form words. But all throughout his deadly onslaught, his face never changes. It is like the face of a rock, without expression, without recognition. Suddenly you find your back against a wall. How had he pressed you backwards so far? He lashes out again, and you bend to the left to parry the blow, but suddenly he feints and you nearly fall over, blocking a blade that isn't there. A skillful twist of his body and a deft underhand stroke sends searing pain shooting down your leg. Kayerts doesn't even break a smile. Desperate, you launch an awkward counter attack, and execute a wild, frantic riposte against his head. Kayerts easily turns it aside with the casual motion of someone waving away a fly. But you take the opportunity to do a diving roll away from the wall. The commander swings at you as you go by but you are too quick, and his sword clangs against the stone wall. Blue sparks explode from the collision. You stand up and pause, taking a moment to breathe. Sweat is running off you in rivers and your entire left leg is covered in blood. You wipe your bloody, sweaty hand on your surcoat and prepare to meet Kayerts's next attack. Strangely, it takes him a moment to realize that you are no longer in front of him. He stands, staring at the wall for long moments. You know you should attack while he is distracted, but you can't help but wonder what's wrong with the man. Why is he just standing there as if he couldn't remember where he was? Suddenly, he spins, and the game is on again. He pushes you back, alternating between overhand and underhand attacks. You barely have time to defend, let alone launch an attack of your own. The sound of swords talking rings in your ears, the CLANG--CLANG--CLANG sending stabbing pain through your shoulder and leg with ever contact. Yet still he says not a word, offers not even an expression of triumph. You have always heard that Kayerts was a stony man, as grim and emotionless as the sea on an overcast day, but this... this is something else. Now you are at the throne, but you are being pushed back so fast that you don't have time to dodge it. With a yelp, you tumble to the ground and your sword goes clattering aside. Kayerts swings again, but you dodge to the side, and his sword rings against the iron chair. He swings again and you dodge to the other side, slamming up against the throne. Kayerts steps in front of you and blocks your path. His sword lowers until the point is but two inches from your throat. Yet, he hesitates. You look up and see that STILL his face is untouched by emotion. He neither sweats nor breathes heavy with exertion. He just stares at you with eyes devoid of intelligence. What has happened to you, my Lord? you wheeze. Your adrenaline gone, the pain of your wounds comes crashing into your brain. You can barely breathe. Kayerts does not answer, but nor does he withdraw the blade. He simply stares. Then, his lips twitch. I.... I... orb.... he mumbles, and he appears to be lowering his sword. But then the glare is back, and he pulls back his blade to make an end of it. You close your eyes, bracing for the death stroke, but instead of numbing pain in your neck, you suddenly feel the wet warm splash of blood. Your eyes dart open and you see that Kayerts has dropped his sword. A surprised expression clouds his eyes and he claws at the three inches of shiny steel protruding from his chest. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out but blood, black as midnight. His eyes roll up in his head and then he collapses. Sir Thomas is standing behind him, the bloody sword in his hand, and he is frowning. My lady should not have tried to fight him, is all the knight says. That was not a man.
• Событие
  • 76, 7 подземелье
  • Сообщение: An ancient gatehouse stands before you, so old that it is almost lost beneath the trailing vines of the swamp. The gate is solid iron, nearly fifteen feet thick. Nobody guards the structure. There is no need
• Событие
  • 7, 3 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Many thousands of years ago, Red Grave (Chenxodotl) was the Temple of Ilaxithu, the God of Water and a powerful Chirazzi deity. The Chirazzi never believed in the World Tree creation story upheld by the coastal ogres and Craag's pretension of saving the world from a devil lord was an early cause for the enmity between the two cultures. The Chirazzi today still believe in older gods but this temple has been long abandoned. It was about five hundred years ago and the Chirazzi were suffering from a horrible drought. The rivers had dried up and much of the swamplands were dying, as it had not rained in months. The god of water was blamed, and the people were fearful that somehow they had angered the gods. They offered sacrifices of all kinds and the priests who lived at this temple did just about anything they could to appease the angry deity. But the drought did not ease up, and the people turned to other gods, such as San Ignacio the White did. For years the drought went on and those who still held to the old gods became restless. One day a bright flash from a meteor burned down a water-tree in an old district of Au Chiraz. The people who worshipped Solitox, the god of the sun, took it as a sign that the water god had fallen out of favor with the rest of the Chirazzi gods and that the meteor was a divine instruction to seek retribution against the water-god's earthly followers. Then, they believed, the rain would fall. The Temple of Ilaxithu fell in a day, so wroth were the people. The priests were dismembered and tortured, and it was said that the blood was so voluminous that it ran in rivers from the mountain on which the temple stood, flooding the valley and bringing life back to the swamps. The bodies of the priests and the followers of Ilaxithu were never buried, and the place became known as Red Grave to the Chirazzi. To this day, it is believed to be a cursed place, and nobody comes here. But from the look of things, MANY people have been coming here. There are tents and buildings and small bands of the lizard creatures marching back and forth on errands. The ruined temple has a red flag flying above it, and a worn road can be seen to the south. So Verianus spoke truthfully... these lizard creatures have a leader. At the very least, you decide, before you must find a way to kill yourself, you can strike a death blow to these enemy armies and buy Sedran the opportunity he needs to find the World Tree and then go after Carlier, or whatever Carlier has become.
• Событие
  • 4, 5 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The ruins of Red Grave are a blackened heap of rock. You can almost feel the curse of the place, and it is amazing that even after several hundred years, not a single plant grows in the ruins. I guess it is true, you muse, Tthat blood shed in anger kills the very earth. Hundreds of the lizard creatures can be seen crawling from the ruins like insects from a dung-heap. But there is something more... sinister at work here. Something far more evil... something..... Suddenly, Jack flares up in your mind. Ah, it is my cousins. Why try to struggle against me, bitch? he sneers when you try to shut him out. You should not have come here... my cousins, they will kill you.... but not before they entertain themselves! SHUT UP! you scream, putting your hands on your head. The cackling in your brain nearly drives you mad and you fall on your knees. Sir Thomas Ment approaches and puts a hand on your shoulder. Are you all right? he asks tenderly. No I'm not bloody all right, you snap, causing him to jerk his hand away as if bitten. I will never be all right, never... and certainly not while whatever lives in there still lives. I have no idea what Carlier has brought to this world, but I will see his work in this swamp ended. Now. Without hesitation, you charge the castle, not waiting to see if your men are following. {Read Journal Entry Two After Battle}
• Указатель
  • 105, 6 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Narrator Event Three
• Событие
  • 106, 6 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Captain Sedran von Patre is not a huge man, not overly tall or overly muscled. He is not really overly pretty; with his scraggly pointed goatee and his thinning black hair and a face marked by the pox, his is only average at best. Yet you feel something extraordinary about him almost immediately, his crooked smile, his warm, honest eyes. It is not clear to you how he came into such a distinguished position, but it is clear to you why. He will be a great leader one day, you think to yourself. But what of you? Is there nothing in your future but a quick death? Captain Sedran seems happy to see you when your boat arrives on the small island. He greets you warmly and introduces you to his closest companions
• Ящер воин
  • 10, 7 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The lizard-creatures attack instantly.
• Ящер
  • 10, 3 подземелье
  • Сообщение: NO MERCY!! These creatures scream as they press the attack.
• Гнолл мародер
  • 14, 3 подземелье
  • Сообщение: GRRRR!!! the doggies cry as you engage them in battle. These creatures sure are in the mood for a fight!
• Летучий змей
  • 13, 5 подземелье
  • Сообщение: BUZZ!!!!! The creatures cry as they attack.
• Событие
  • 46, 6 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Omastacon's forces scattered when their General fell. It was Gugalion who did the deed. The Ogre Lord rode into battle wielding a ten-foot long pike with a barbed head that resembled a steel pine tree. A look of shock passed over Omastacon's face when the spear went into his chest and out of his back with a single thrust by the enormous ogre. The fire lord roared like thunder and then fell from his horse as a pile of ash. Even now, a horde of ogres are dancing around Gug, praising him as Craag reborn. He smiles bashfully, as humble as any knight. Other thoughts plague your mind...but you do not let your nervousness show. Let them have their victory, your father was always fond of saying, even if a bigger battle is right around the corner. Death will come quickly enough when the time is upon you -- no use rushing it.
• Событие
  • 2, 86 подземелье
  • Сообщение: A thousand questions enter your mind as you prepare to enter this portal. But one thing is for certain
• Черный меч мертвого рыцаря
  • 89, 24 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Ah yes... the pride of the rogues's stolen collection. You should definitely find this useful.
• Разбойник
  • 89, 25 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The rogues do not seem particularly pleased that you have elected to invade their territory. Unless you have a business proposition for us, one of them says with a sneer, you had best be on your way.
• Гнолл мародер
  • 76, 79 подземелье
  • Сообщение: More of the strange wolfmen loiter outside of this abandoned wood mill. The mutilated bodies of several goblin and ogre lumberjacks are scattered haphazardly about the area. Wherever they are from, these noles (or whatever they are called) must be eliminated.
• Событие
  • 4, 100 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Harold's untimely death gnaws at you, but there is nothing to be done about it. Soldiers die. It is not a rule, it's a definition. Life goes on. That's the rule. It is hard to focus your mind on the task at hand, but you tell yourself that through success, you can make Harold's death mean something. It seems a cliche, but if you must use a cliche to find comfort, then so be it. If nothing else, this event has given you firm resolve to make it back to Andrea in one piece and see her safely back to Eilia. Jim Terrentel, your newly appointed first officer, speaks softly in your ear. Clearly he feels uncomfortable in his new position. Promotion is not easy when it comes at the expense of a life. My lord, he says timidly, I see a tower to the southwest. Mayhap we can find the answers we seek there. Jim's eyes are saying more than his voice, however. We need to move on, sire, they implore you. We must find the Ogre Club or it's going to be a lot more people dying of gaping wounds. Yes, that sounds like a fine idea, you reply. Get the men ready and be on the lookout for an ambush. You begin to walk away, but Jim puts a hand on your shoulder. Though not a stranger, he isn't really a friend either. A good soldier and a good commander from what you've heard, but there is something painfully familiar about the gesture. Harold used to do it. I'm sorry for Harold's death, Jim says. He was a friend of mine as well. A good man and... uh... You answer him with silence and walk away.
• Замок
  • 40, 34 подземелье
  • Название: Progress
  • Название: Tavern Day 3
  • Сообщение: In order to ameliorate some of the growing hostility of your men, you order a new tavern to be built. They seem cheerful for once, and indeed, a whole night passes without anyone landing in the healer's tent with a dagger protruding from their eye.
  • Название: 14 Mage Guild
  • Сообщение: The Monks from San Ignacio -- or what is left of them -- have been coming in pairs and trios for the last week. Obviously, they no longer feel safe in the wild, what with the recent attacks. Due to some of the recent improvements to the city, they have elected to set up their temples here in the Outpost of Progress. As thanks for your protection, they share with you their rudimentary knowledge of magic.
  • Название: 21 Mage GUild2
  • Сообщение: The San Ignacio Monks, with your aid, construct additional magic-learning facilities.
• Событие
  • 92, 88 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Captain Sedran, the voice of your first mate whispers in your ear. We should be going. This place... gives me the creeps. Despite the softness of the words, it brings you back to the present as violently as the strike of a bell wakes children who have fallen asleep during a church service. Yes... you are right. I just.... You cannot finish your sentence. Ever since you watched Saed and his army... his whole army... get butchered before your eyes, you haven't been able to shake the feeling of sickness that even now threatens to take over your whole body. The instant you saw those {things} burst from the ground like mushrooms after a heavy rain, you had tried to rally your men for a rescue attempt. But really, what could you and your eleven or so men do that Saed and his thousand couldn't? The man Tomas, who had so surreptitiously beguiled Saed and his men to that accursed temple had mounted a giant stallion -- and where the hell had that come from! -- and charged into the thick of the battle. Saed nearly cut the man into two halves, and that sure was a welcome sight. That is until the two halves got up and continued fighting. What manner of devilry was this? Walking corpses and fighting half-men? You sincerely wish there were someone around to tell you what was going on. Please, sire, Scott says again, pulling at your sleeve. They do not look anxious to leave the temple grounds... but I'd rather not see how long it takes for that menacing hunger in their eyes to convince them otherwise. Scott was right, of course. But you couldn't help staring. The creatures that had burst out of the temple like a swarm of caged hornets were still putting the finishing touches to their slaughter. Heads and limbs were being ripped off and eaten. The screams had died out about twenty minutes ago, either because the wounded were now dead or because the wounded now had no tongues, but still the zombies toiled, playing around with their victims like a child plays with finger-paints; it's as if the creatures enjoyed being messy. You wonder why they didn't abandon the dead soldiers and simply charge you and your small company, but something seems to hold them back. Every now and then, a couple of them drift some distance from the temple, but then think better of it and return. The temple is the key, you are sure of that, and as long as you steer clear of it, something tells you they will not pursue. But as Scott insinuated
• Событие
  • 65, 79 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Gug pulls you over to the side of the road. A retired ogre general lives here, he says, just off the road. He was the one who taught us ogres how to use a catapult! You would be wise to stop at his house and learn a thing or two.
• Событие
  • 68, 78 подземелье
  • Сообщение: On the road again... and this time short two members of your company. Unfortunately, Duk isn't one of them. Needless to say the feisty little goblin was more than a little angered by the fact that Murak Mol decided to let you live, although the Ogrelord's pronunciation of your innocence has done little to ameliorate Duk's attitude toward you. No, sadly it is Mu and Rigga who have not joined you on your latest expedition, and you cannot get the reason out of Gug. It is not my place to say, Gug merely responds every time you bring it up. If you must know, then ask Murak Mol upon our return. I shall! you declare. Heading west, you can't help but notice how empty the roads are. Every now and then you see the remains of a ransacked caravan accompanied by spilled merchandise and slain horses. No other dead bodies are found, however, and you find this to be remotely disturbing. Still, you press on, not stopping to investigate. You have another mission right now, and that is to see to it that Tailia is freed. Then you can put your energy into more important concerns.
• Указатель
  • 64, 81 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Beware of Wild Rocs if you Stray from the Road!
• Указатель
  • 27, 95 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Beach View
• Событие
  • 90, 72 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The river widens as you proceed west through the valley, making your way, Gug assures you, towards the road that leads to Ogretree. Although Duk remains hostilely close-mouthed in your presence, preferring to keep himself in the company of goblins and orcs that you were able to recruit (albeit begrudgingly) back in Pogug, Gug's ogre-friends seem to have become quite fond of you and your men. Even tacit Bok, who never seems to run out of half-cooked animal legs, has warmed to your presence. You humans nice, Bok had belched yesterday evening over the campfire after Scott had shared some of his personal supply of ale, earning a spiteful scowl from Duk, Would you guys like some meat? Risking offending the fat green ogre, Scott had declined the bloody severed arm of whatever creature Bok had slain in the bushes, receiving half-hidden snickers from your other men and an angry snort from Duk. Surprisingly, considering all you have seen and the dire predicament in which you have found yourself, the morale of the men seems to be very high. Hopefully whatever news you receive from Ogretree will keep it that way.
• Ледяной элементал
  • 10, 62 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Hissing like snakes, the water creatures attack!
• Событие
  • 9, 60 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Harold points to the small delta on the other side of the Malamazzi, to the south. That is where the Volki River meets the Malamazzi River, he says. And this is as far as we can go on the Malamazzi. It is too rocky to proceed. You nod with not just a little regret. Your trip would be so much easier if you could just ride this boat all the way to the ocean. The Volki River leads to the Gate, the first human outpost after Jackal's Pass. Likely it is now just another spawning ground of the lizard creatures and their evil brethren. Still, that is where you must head it you're going to get to Port Calaman. You are about to order your steering man to make way for the Volki, when suddenly, a sharp cry from your crow's nest lookout brings your attention to some activity in the middle of the river. You almost do a double take when large, scaly creatures emerge from the depths of the water and begin hurling shards of ice at your boat. Without hesitation, you bring your boat to a safe distance. Harold sighs and shakes his head, We have heard reports of strange river creatures to accompany our sightings of strange land creatures. It seems they guard the only navigable path to the Volki River. We dare not land on the northern shore -- who knows what forces prowl those jungles? Our only hope is to land on the southern banks a little farther upriver. I think I saw a clearing not too long back, to the west! You give a final moment's consideration to trying your luck against the water creatures, but given their numbers and their obvious thirst for your blood, it seems like a bad idea.
• Событие
  • 9, 65 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Prevent People from landing here!
• Событие
  • 18, 75 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Harold gives you a pleading stare as you urge him into the small boat. He might be right... braving the Jackal's Pass might be a happy alternative to this nightmare cruise!
• Событие
  • 93, 87 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You stop your horse with a sudden jerk of the reins. Some distance in front of you, looking like something out of a scary book, is the old temple. The granite walls have been so blackened by smoke and flame that the building appears from this distance to have been carved out of a single block of obsidian. The glass windows, once depicting religious scenes, have all been shattered, either by thrown stones or by the heat of incineration. A sign, leaning over at an angle like a drunken man, says ...come to the Temple of Saint Car..... Both ends of the sign have been broken off. Beckoning you to make haste, about halfway between you and the ruined structure, is Tomas. You see no sign of any other men, wounded or otherwise, but something seems inherently wrong with his sudden anxiety. You turn back and scan the distance behind you. Barely, you can make out Sedran and his small band of loyal men making camp. Should you have asked him to go with you? No, of course not. Better that you stay separated, so that if something happens to either of you, there will be someone left to carry the news back to Salevin. Still... you can't shake this uneasy feeling. But what choice do you have, really? You need to find out what's in that building, even if you are going to need this army of yours to get to it. Without considering it again, you urge your horse forward.
• Крестьянин
  • 93, 88 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You come upon the group of wayward men -- no women -- who now you realize are not peasants at all but soldiers. This you deduce from glimpses of well-muscled chests and old scars that occasionally show themselves between the gaps in their tattered clothing. A few of them carry weapons, but not at the ready like men wary of danger; rather their swords and axes were dragging behind them on the ground as if they wanted to drop them out of fear or fatigue but their hands couldn't remember how. You look over them some more and it gets worse. One man is carrying a scimitar that has been broken in two, holding the end of the blade like a hilt. Another man, shambling about like a hunchback with a backache, is carrying a human head by the hair in one hand and a severed arm in the other; he is missing both of his eyes and his nose. The horrors go on and on, and you can barely hold onto the contents of your stomach. The men do not seem to notice your presence. When you approach them, they walk away reflexively, not out of conscious thought or fear but as if you and them were opposite poles of a magnet. They simply drift from you. Occasionally they meet your eyes, but what you see is emptiness, life devoid of intelligence. Whatever happened here, it scared them out of their minds, literally. You are about to order your men to put the tormented souls out of their misery, when a voice from the back of the milling crowd shouts to you
• Событие
  • 94, 86 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Tomas stops on the burned steps of the Temple and turns to you. There is a wild gleam to his eyes, and the blade in his hand is visibly shaking with anticipation. What is he so jittery about? you wonder. You and your lieutenants all dismount from their horses simultaneously. It seems they have felt the pang of worry too, for they all carry their blades unsheathed. Tomas merely repeats, over and over, Come quick. They are inside. Come... He does not move, only grins insanely and urges you closer with his jagged weapon. You scan the sides of the temple for any sign of a threat, but see none. What IS going on? And why is that damn man looking at me like a heron about ready to skewer a fish. When you finally reach the steps to the temple and get a glimpse inside, you understand, but by then it's too late. With a scream that resembles the cry of a tiger whose legs have just been torn off by an ogre, the charred doors of the temple burst open, and rotting creatures that might have once been human issue forth in great droves. Tomas grins sadistically and calls out, Kill them! Kill these men who are in league with Kayerts! EAT THEM and KILL THEM!!! In a panic, you whip around. Retreat! you scream. What manner of unholy magic created these living rotted corpses that lurch from the temple like a sickening ooze you do not know, but it is not in your nature to stick around and find out. Your men, hearing your command, struggle to turn their horses and flee, but you know it is hopeless. Behind your men, more of the zombie-like beings have somehow appeared. They limp forward, heedless of your trained soldiers brandishing bright, shiny steel. You turn around again and curse. Surrounded. Where did they all come from? A voice screams in your head... from the dirt... they came from the dirt... Looking around, you realize the voice is right. Some creatures are still trying to extricate themselves from the earth
• Событие
  • 95, 85 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The zombies leer at you as you pass by the temple from a safe distance. Some of your men go so far as to wade in waist-deep ocean water in order to stay as far away from the building as possible. Suddenly, you are jerked to a halt and you are forced to do a double take, but... no, it can't be. For a moment you swear you can see Jarrid Saed, sans an arm and half the top of his head, standing in line with the rest of the undead creatures, eyeing you like a lion glaring at a wounded gazelle. But that's just silliness and paranoia, and you are easily able to shake it off and continue walking along the coastline. Just silliness and paranoia... isn't it?
• Событие
  • 93, 84 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Calaman is as empty as you feel. Not only is there not a living soul, but it seems someone has removed every useful bit of plunder that might have been here after the battle. Harold and Jim return from scouting to the west with sour looks on their faces. It is bad, my lord, Jim says, taking a quick knee. We found Captain Major Ethric. Well bring him here! you exclaim. He can tell us what has happened! Even if he was still alive, he could not, Jim says, head bowed. He chewed off his own tongue long before he was torn to pieces. Ethric, dead? Chewed off his own tongue? Torn to pieces? The Lord of Calaman should not have died in such a fashion. Bury him, is all you say. It has been done,Harold replies, But there is something else. Yes? you ask without interest. Some of the dead to the southeast.... they bear the mark of the Lord High Admiral's personal guard, Harold says, sharing a nervous glance with Jim. Jarrid Saed's men? you ask, turning your head to look at your friend's tired eyes. How is that possible? Harold's silence is answer enough. It isn't possible at all. The Admiral was back in Eilia, fighting the war. So what now? Harold asks after several moments of silence. You chew your lip in thought and then answer, One of the men found a note in the Keep by someone named Sedran, a Captain, although I do not know him. Said he was heading north and that anyone finding the note should proceed there for further instruction. Sedran? Jim asks. Harold shrugs and turns to you. I've never heard of him either, you reply, I do not remember him among Kayerts' officers, but then he could have been promoted in the wake of this... disaster. In any case, if he survived the slaughter and went north, likely he met up with the goblins of Pogug. We should go there. With a last look at the ruined Keep, you gather your men and leave this dreary place.
• Событие
  • 92, 83 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Keep Calaman is an empty, charred husk. Kind of like the discarded exoskeleton of a locust, it has burned so much that you swear even the slightest touch might cause it to collapse. Nobody, living or dead, can be found inside. The captain's palace has been abandoned; his belongings (and unfortunately, his diary with it) have been burned. Your men salvage a single rather comfortable looking chair and take turns sitting in it - they seem rather proud of their find - but this really doesn't interest you. In short, much to your disgust, there is nothing to be found anywhere at Keep Calaman or what's left of the village around it. Nothing but the remnants of a battle that seems to have no cause between creatures that cannot be explained and yielding a victor who is nowhere to be found. DAMN that man Saed and DAMN his stupid mission and DAMN everything to hell. AND FRANKLY, DAMN... It is in the middle of these ravings that you notice the graves. Now, that's a first, you think. And not only a few... thousands of them, many of them small enough to house dead children, lined up on the charred hill behind the Keep like dominoes. None of them are inscribed. Interesting... another piece of the puzzle. But as a child you were one of those fairly unindustrious types that hated doing the puzzle without seeing the picture on the box first and consulting it numerous times throughout. What was the picture? After a little more looking around, you gather your men and prepare to set out, despite the fact that it is almost dark. The thought of spending the night here is more than you can bear. Where are we going? Scott asks. He sports a new rapier, salvaged from the Keep somewhere presumably. Home? he suggests hopefully. Hardly, you reply, although you can't deny being enticed by the idea. What would you tell your superiors anyway when you returned nine hundred men and a commander-in-chief short and with creepy-crawly zombie like things that lived underground as your only plausible explanation. We found a few dead goblins among the wreckage as well as some trading carts. There must be a goblin encampment somewhere nearby, most likely up the coastline a bit. We'll head there and see if we can't find some answers. Unless you'd like to stay here and maybe offer those dead soldiers a parlay? I'll even let you be the talker. With a grin, you leave Scott to his duties.
• Событие
  • 92, 86 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Tomas stops on the burned steps of the Temple and turns to you. There is a wild gleam to his eyes, and the blade in his hand is visibly shaking with anticipation. What is he so jittery about? you wonder. You and your lieutenants all dismount from their horses simultaneously. It seems they have felt the pang of worry too, for they all carry their blades unsheathed. Tomas merely repeats, over and over, Come quick. They are inside. Come... He does not move, only grins insanely and urges you closer with his jagged weapon. You scan the sides of the temple for any sign of a threat, but see none. What IS going on? And why is that damn man looking at me like a hawk about ready to skewer a fish. When you finally reach the steps to the temple and get a glimpse inside, you understand, but by then it's too late. With a scream that resembles the cry of a tiger whose legs have just been torn off by an ogre, the charred doors of the temple burst open, and rotting creatures that might have once been human issue forth in great droves. Tomas grins sadistically and calls out, Kill them! Kill these men who are in league with Kayerts! EAT THEM and KILL THEM!!! In a panic, you whip around. Retreat! you scream. What manner of unholy magic created these living rotted corpses that lurch from the temple like a sickening ooze you do not know, but it is not in your nature to stick around and find out. Your men, hearing your command, struggle to turn their horses and flee, but you know it is hopeless. Behind your men, more of the zombie-like beings have somehow appeared. They limp forward, heedless of your trained soldiers brandishing bright, shiny steel. You turn around again and curse. Surrounded. Where did they all come from? A voice screams in your head... from the dirt... they came from the dirt... Looking around, you realize the voice is right. Some creatures are still trying to extricate themselves from the earth
• Страж задания
  • 36, 19 подземелье
  • Сообщение: A small gatehouse stands between you and the small keep tucked into the mountains to the east. You bang on the door using the heavy iron ring provided for that purpose. Several moments later, a small slot in the door slides aside, revealing a set of eyes. Master Chlorthonis is very ill, m'Lady, their owner says after a moment. It's been a long time since anyone called you m'Lady. You've been treated like a man your whole life, what with the military uniform and all... I'm afraid I can't let you in unless you're a friend of the family. Come back with some proof of your kinship to my master, and I'll let you see him.
• Хижина предсказателя
  • 37, 18 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Chlorthonis Keep is really little more than a large stone house. A few guards stand at attention outside the door, but you suspect it's more for show than anything else. A wizard has no need for steel to protect his living quarters. The servant, who identifies himself as Maklar, leads you down a series of hallways until he stops at a large, oak door. He knocks once, receives no response, and then enters. The room behind the doors is surprisingly well lit. Large bay windows on three sides of the room let in piercing shafts of sunlight and a slight breeze ruffles the blue silk curtains. An old man is sleeping soundly on a modest bed in the center of the room, his hands folded peacefully on his chest. A circlet of some silver metal rests on his head, a single sapphire in the shape of a small cross adorning it in the center. I present Master Healer Chlorthonis, Maklar says with a sigh. He doesn't look like much now, I'm afraid. Feel free to say what you wish. I shall be in the next room. The servant shuffles out and closes the door behind him. You approach the dying man quietly and come to a halt beside the bed. Reaching out a hand, you touch his forehead. It is cool but dry. Chlorthonis breathes regularly, in a slumber. This is a fruitless quest, you think. All that protects you from insanity is this grisly helmet on your head and your only hope of saving the world is an unconscious man. As if reading your thoughts, Chlorthonis's eyes flutter open and he stares fixedly at the ceiling. A moment later, he is studying you. If he is frightened by your helmet, he does not show it. Instead he smiles, the neatly trimmed white beard framing the shape of his mouth. I sensed a troubled soul, he says in a voice barely above a whisper. What is it you seek, child? I search for your daughter, you reply, who by repute may cure me of my ailment. The man laughs. Aye, she thinks she can cure everything, even me! But she seeks to cure the symptoms of the disease, not the disease itself! I beg your pardon? you ask. Traemaskeelix is dying, child. All life will go with her, I fear, if something is not done. Your ailment, my disease... they are but reflections of a bigger problem. You and I... we are both lost. But Shaylin Timen will not listen. She seeks the Glowenberries, but they will do no good. Who is Traemaskeelix? you ask, confused. I do not understand! Whatever it is, you don't like this talk of certain death. The World Tree, protector of life, source of magic... she has been poisoned! She is dying, but without an heir, her death speaks the end of the world.... Is there aught we can do? you ask, kneeling down. The old man's voice is getting fainter. Aye, he whispers. We can pray.... we can...... .... The man falls unconscious, and no amount of shaking will stir him. Curses! you growl. You must find this man's daughter. Whoever this Traemaskeelix is, her death isn't going to be your death, not if you have anything to say about it! If only Kayerts had told you what he was up to! You are about to storm from the room when you notice a small folded piece of parchment on the nightstand beside Chlorthonis's bed. You pick it up and inspect it. Scrawled in poor handwriting is written
• Волшебный свиток
  • 18, 32 подземелье
  • Сообщение: One of the monks at the University offers to teach you a spell that will help your soldiers meditate during battle. You accept!
• Событие
  • 17, 60 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You see a small wooden pier hidden almost perfectly under a large willow tree. It looks just big enough to accommodate your boat.
• Событие
  • 3, 93 подземелье
  • Сообщение: You jerk to a halt and your horse, a fine war steed named Checkers given to you by Tog at Ogretree, snorts in indignation. Though well bred and intelligent, the animal is clearly made for an ogre, not a human, and you can't help but feel like a small child when sitting atop such an enormous animal. It's better than walking in mud, you remind yourself. The smell of smoke in the air brings your attention back to the obstacle in front of you
• Страж задания
  • 9, 8 подземелье
  • Сообщение: As long as the army at Red Grave stands unscathed, the thousands of creatures surrounding this tent will never flee. If their leader was killed...
• Рух
  • 2, 91 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The large birds somehow recognize you as an ally and join your ranks.
• Событие
  • 97, 61 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Verg's house is a large whitewashed adobe structure with a central cylindrical room flanked on either side by two smaller cylindrical rooms. The tusks of some large animal decorate the circumference of the roof of all three rooms. A short staircase made of wooden boards -- testament to the power of the Goblin Queen as wood is a precious commodity indeed in this region of the island -- leads up to a single four-foot tall doorway cut into the adobe wall. The passageway is covered by a strip of burgundy cloth that flaps lazily in the light breeze. It is up these stairs that Gug now leads you and George Scott. Your men content themselves with resting outside of the structure. You enter the passageway and find yourself in a surprisingly open room that, despite its poor internal lighting, is still amazingly bright due to the whiteness of the walls. The furniture is sparse and common-looking but inviting after your long time on your feet. An old goblin woman sporting a suit of wrinkled green skin and a pair of wire spectacles is perched like a bird on a rickety old chair next to a small round table. A book with browning pages and a torn cover is clutched in her hands and she is reading intently. If she notices your presence she does not show it. Gug walks over to the woman and genuflects before her. Queen Verg, he says, his voice filled with respect, I bring humans to see you. They are seeking... information. Verg does not immediately responds, but rather finishes whatever paragraph or page she is reading. Finally she sets the book down on the table and jumps from the chair with surprising dexterity. Humans you say? Verg squeaks as she quickly approaches. Although her back is hunched over with age, she still moves gingerly and nimbly, and her eyes are filled with a shrewd intelligence that would make you think twice about entering a contest of wit. Humans and humans and humans... and what makes these humans different, Gug? Verily, I should have them strung up to be eaten by the carrion birds. Verg sniffs at you and then turns away, losing interest. My Queen, Gug says apologetically, you know I would not waste your time frivolously. These humans have just arrived on our land. Their leader and most of their army was butchered back at Calaman by the Mortex and they just narrowly escaped. I do not believe they mean us harm. You do not have time to consider how Gug knows all of this before Verg barks a laugh and points an accusing finger at the ogre. Ha! Nor did the rest at first I would wager. She turns and glides back to you, breathing in your face. Well, human? Gug is one I trust implicitly. Tell me, why should I not kill you immediately for simply being one of your kind? Trying to appear sincere and as docile as possible, you bow deeply, making sure your hand remains far clear of the hilt of your sword. My Queen, first let me say how deeply honored I... Fiddle spittle, enough of your crap, young one. You no more respect my crown than I respect your badge of authority, she cackles, indicating the sparkling loops that decorate your ear. Now, tell me what it is you seek or begone. I have a book to read. Clearing your throat, attempting to remain patient, My name is Captain Sedran. I hail from Eilia, across the sea. I have traveled here because some other men from our navy landed here with some mission which is a secret to me. My superior, an admiral of the highest rank, told me little about this mission or the man in charge of it, only that it was considered top priority and that something must have gone dreadfully wrong since this mystery person had not been heard from in months. Unfortunately, we landed to find the main base of operations on the island to be burned to the ground and populated by unholy creatures who lured the admiral and his army into an ambush. Therefore I am stuck here with no commander, no army, no answers, and no idea of where to get them. I have heard it told that you may have my answers, and I would be greatly in your debt to hear them. Verg listens to all of this intently, and then, finally, her features relax. I am sorry, she says, I am wrong to judge you simply by your race. And I have some answers, although not as many, I'm afraid, as you'd like. The mystery man you mention, Verg continues, can only be Kayerts. I met him once and I must say he is not one I'd mind to mean again. Viciously smart, although not inherently mean or evil, I wouldn't think, but extremely pleasant, polite, gracious. We entertained him for a bit, and agreed to help him out as we could. He never did divulge why he was here, and shortly after he arrived, he and his first in command, a small dark man with a nasty grin named Carlier, embarked on an expedition to the center of the island. We haven't heard anything from them since. The men left at Calaman accepted our aid in helping them to build their port. And we got along well for more than a year. And then groups of humans began attacking our village in the night. They killed our men and kidnapped our children and women. This continued for some time until we enlisted the aid of the ogres and built the defenses of the valley you passed through. The men at Calaman were not pleased with our declaration of war, and many of our kind and of yours died in the ensuing struggle. Then the creatures arrived. Vicious lizard-like things, with fangs and guttural speech. Humans with the color of death and rotting flesh. All sorts of abominations. We now do not dare leave our valley, as travel anywhere has become unsafe. This is all the fault of you humans. What you have done and how you have done it is beyond me! But the end of my people is at hand! Verg is nearly in tears, and must pause for a moment. As to Calaman, it only fell recently, and how I have no idea. Perhaps Murak Mol, the Ogre Lord, knows. I can see in your eyes that your intentions are sincere. I will help you as I can. I don't see that I have much choice, really, and I hope that maybe you can get to the bottom of whatever disaster has taken place. Here, she produces an amulet from her robes, this will allow you to pass by the gates of Ogretree, the capital of the Ogre Kingdom, to the west of Pogug. They let few pass these days and even less humans. They will be mistrusting of you, but this amulet and the fact that Gug and his men will accompany you should give you at least a shot of asking Murak for assistance. He may know where Kayerts went to, as assuredly he is at the root of this mystery. For the time being, you can make our village your base. There is a small hut to the south, by the shipyard. Use this as your headquarters, and I will instruct the goblins of the village to join your ranks so that if something should happen on the way to Ogretree, you may be able to emerge victorious. You thank the Goblin queen graciously and exit her house, glad at least to have a real possible source of answers.
• Событие
  • 14, 74 подземелье
  • Сообщение: The Gate has been destroyed almost beyond repair. A few of the swamp creatures that sacked the place and slew every last defender and all the residents still walk among the rubble. They shouldn't pose too much of an obstacle. Oh yeah, there was the mention by a wayward peasant you passed a few hours ago of some enormous five-headed beast that follows the orders of the lizard men gobbling up civilians, but you aren't actually going to give that rumor any credence, are you?
• Рыцарь
  • 98, 96 подземелье
  • Название: Jarrid Saed
  • Биография: Lord Admiral Jarrid Saed is the highest officer in the Eilian navy. He takes orders only from the Eilian King and his family , the Lord Marshal and the High Chancellor. Seeing as none of those people are within five hundred leagues of here, that makes Saed pretty much in charge. As stern as a rock, the Lord Admiral is nonetheless one of the most brilliant military minds in the history of the Eilian military. It would probably surprise many of his officers to learn that Saed started his military career as a marching drummer.
• Событие
  • 63, 9 подземелье
  • Сообщение: To the north lies the ancient city of Au Chiraz, home to the Chizmak and the (now extinct) Chirazzi Empire. It is an old city, so covered with moss, vines and slime that it blends almost perfectly into the swamp vegitation. Massive temples and execution pits are everywhere, lending credence to the rumors you have heard about the old Chirazzi rituals. Now, however, the Chizmak have fled, and this, like all the other cities in the Interior, are infested with dogmen, overgrown flies, and lizard creatures. Did someone call the exterminator?
• Зверолов
  • 33, 71 подземелье
  • Название: Canos Quntyn
• Событие
  • 34, 71 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Southpost. You remember marching through here was seems like years ago. Kayerts and Carlier, after passing through the Gate, chose this site for their first major outpost in the area. Close to the river, it was an ideal spot. Although the two commanders of your expedition were not content to stay here -- they had objectives deeper in the jungle -- this was still the seat of their operation, a checkpoint and a center for the reception of supplies from the coast. They left the capable Lord Canos Quntyn, a high ranking officer of the purest caliber, in charge. Of course, its strategic position was its downfall, and the creatures struck fast and hard. Cut off from the outside world, the rest of your outposts began falling soon after. If you are going to regain what was lost, Southpost is a good place to start. Unfortunately, nothing has been heard from Canos Quntyn in months.....
• Огр
  • 3, 105 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Some ogre survivors emerge from hiding and offer to join your ranks!
• Рыцарь
  • 45, 32 подземелье
  • Название: Andrea Mead
  • Биография: Lady Andrea Mead's past is a remarkable. She grew up in a military family, her father the legendary Sander Mead and her grandfather the even more legendary Oxfus Mead. Many laughed when she desired to follow her father's footsteps. When asked why she chose such an unwomanly path, she replies that she would be the son her father always wanted but never had. Those same people stopped laughing when she quickly rose through the ranks and demonstrated the same military savvy owned by her ancestors. Today she holds the distinguished position of lieutenant-captain (the only woman in Eilia to do so) and, with Kayerts and Carlier gone and Sir Canos Quntyn missing, she is the highest officer in the Interior. It is rumored that she has fallen in love with Sir Roland Swift, who saved her life during a recent naval battle. It is also rumored that she has been going insane since arriving in the jungle.
• Событие
  • 5, 61 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Prevent People from landing here!
• Кулон жизни
  • 19, 32 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Very little remains of this ancient university. A single belltower, leaning off to one side, is the only structure left with a roof. The scholar within invites you to stay for the night and you humbly accept. The lizards came and killed my colleagues too old to defend themselves, he says tearfully over a supper of stale bread and thin onion soup. The others were taken alive, bound hand and foot and piled in a cart like meat from a butcher's. If I hadn't been down below looking for a certain vintage of wine, I'd have been taken too, or worse! You offer the man your consolations and ask if he's seen a healer named Madam Timen hereabouts. Nay, he replies. She studied here many moons ago, but since her father took ill, she's had not the time for studies. Odds are she's gone and got herself killt looking for Glowenberries to remedy his illness. The news is not helpful but you thank the man nonetheless. Upon departing, he grabs you by the shoulder and looks somberly into your eyes. Tread carefully, Lady Mead, he whispers. There are foul magics aloft. Take this as a ward against evil! He hands you a small medallion bearing the Ankh, symbol of Druidry back in Eilia. You thank the scholar and bid him farewell, glad to have a reminder of the old gods back home.
• Событие
  • 82, 82 подземелье
  • Сообщение: Player Note
• Событие
  • 60, 26 подземелье
  • Сообщение: An old witch tells you she will teach you a thing or two about moving around in the swamp, if you are interested.
• Событие
  • 29, 30 подземелье
  • Сообщение: An old witch tells you she will teach you a thing or two about moving around in the swamp, if you are interested.
• Хижина предсказателя
  • 64, 98 суша
  • Сообщение: Ah-ah-ah! Max says, wagging a finger at your face when you try to enter. I can't help you... only Tendus there. He comes in, and only him!
• Подземелье
  • 74, 101 суша
  • Название: Secret Sect HQ
• Событие
  • 38, 107 суша
  • Сообщение: You find yourself in a very large natural cavern, which is lit by regularly spaced torches set along each wall. The sounds of dripping water and hushed voices can be heard within. Duk struts forward confidently, snickering at the hesitation of you and your men. Come now, human! If you not afraid of The Snorter, how can you be afraid of little cave like this?! Suddenly, the cave is filled with the screeches of bats, and before you know it, large black shapes are darting past your head at lightning speed, heading for the cave's exit. Duk shrieks and throws his hands up in the air. After the swarm of bats passes and Duk calms down, you order your men forward. The goblin, though having warmed to you even more in the days since defeating Zach the Dragon, glares at you sullenly as you march your men past him and his goblin buddies, who are covering up poorly-hidden snickers at his outcry.
• Событие
  • 50, 104 суша
  • Сообщение: You hear a loud buzzing noise coming from behind the locked gates to the north. The sound sets your teeth on edge and you hurry by!
• Указатель
  • 57, 103 суша
  • Сообщение: Welcome to the Secret Sect Visitors Unwelcome
• Страж задания
  • 64, 99 суша
  • Сообщение: A sign posted on the gate reads
• Ящик Пандоры
  • 64, 100 суша
  • Сообщение: A plain unassuming box with the number ONE carved in it. Do you open?
• Ящик Пандоры
  • 63, 101 суша
  • Сообщение: A plain unassuming box with the number FOUR carved in it. Do you open?
• Ящик Пандоры
  • 65, 101 суша
  • Сообщение: A plain unassuming box with the number TWO carved in it. Do you open?
• Ящик Пандоры
  • 64, 102 суша
  • Сообщение: A plain unassuming box with the number THREE carved in it. Do you open?
• Указатель
  • 61, 101 суша
  • Сообщение: The Main Antechamber
• Страж задания
  • 71, 102 суша
  • Сообщение: The mage-guards glare at you with impudent faces as you try to convince them that you absolutely MUST see Zobork immediately. Surprisingly, several death threats to the guards and their mothers by Duk and company do not seem to help. Unfortunately, there does not seem to be any way into the giant glowing building that lies behind these gates except by going THROUGH these gates, and the guards appear to be pretty competent at keeping outsiders outside. Members only.... is all they say. You are about to give up when Tendus, his white hair wild and his red cape billowing out behind him like a gagging tongue, barges to the gate. Now listen here, you toad-faced bog-dwellers! he roars, Let us in or I'll burn this place down before you can pee in your pants! The outburst shocks you and George Scott smacks a hand to his head, clearly wondering what kind of foolish old man you have gotten yourselves involved with. The guards simply stare back at you with empty expressions, their adamant resolve not broken by Tendus's silly threats. Come on, Gug says with a sigh, No use trying to force-feed an elephant to a mouse. We'll just go and find some other way -- A sudden load pop and a flash of light cut off the ogre's suggestion. Your hands go instinctively to your eyes and you hear Scott let out a gasp of surprise and Duk let out a girlish cry. Blue flame suddenly flares up where the Wizard Tendus Clevus was standing; magical energy that pops and sizzles like a cat being struck by lightening seems to envelope his entire body. The smell of sulfur and honey assaults your nose just as the flames turn bright green and orange. GET ME ZOBORK NOW! Tendus intones in an icy voice that manages to send shivers up your spine despite the heat of the conflagration. To emphasize his point, great snakes of orange energy leap from Tendus's hands towards the guards, who now simply gape at the magical spectacle before them. Without another word, they drop their weapons and run towards the building, screaming something in another language. After they are gone, the fire suddenly winks out, leaving Tendus standing just where he was before the fire began, completely unscathed by the flames. You try to look him over, to somehow convince yourself that it's possible that he could still be alive, but flashing spots still dance in front of your eyes, the manifestation of temporary burns on your retinas similar to those seen after staring at the sun too long. What in the name of Craag was that?! Gug exclaims. I thought your magic was depleted! Tendus giggles and shows his crooked teeth. Not magic, my dear general, he replies. A simple trick. I once happened to study a bit with some of the Alchemists of Tarenlee during my pilgrimage to Goss Mar and they taught me a thing or two about pyrotechnics. Pretty impressive stuff, wouldn't you say? Yes, very impressive, Gug says, frowning, But you could have warned us. Yes, warned us. Look what you did to poor Duk! Bok cries. For once his hands are devoid of food, which had been dropped on the floor during the pyrotechnics display. All eyes turn to Duk, who is standing in a puddle of urine. He just growls and stomps off, muttering something about having too much to drink earlier on. Within moments, you can see the guards exit from the building, dragging a surprisingly young wizard wearing unassuming brown robes that match the well-tended crop of brown hair that graces his large ogre head. He is struggling to keep up with their hurried, anxious pace. Finally, panting and out of breath, Zobork, known by his underlings (but not to his face, which sports the largest, flattest, ugliest nose you've ever seen) as Sniffles, reaches the gate. What is it? he wheezes, taking a look at you, then turning back to the guards, who still wear terrified looks on their faces. His voice is painfully nasal. You know I can't heal them, and Max refuses to see any new clients until I pay him double what he's already earning. Why are you wasting my time? Afraid that Tendus will try his demonstration again, you quickly interject. Your magicfullness, you say unctuously, It is not paltry tricks that we require, but rather -- Tendus interrupts you again, this time not with a loud outburst but with the voice of smooth haughtiness and confidence. Zobork, hello and hello to you, he says, stepping forward and bowing. Might I introduce to you myself, the Ogre Mage Tendus Clevus. Zobork's eyebrows rise and he sneers back, I know who you are, Tendus. You who nearly ended the ways of magic among the ogres. We hold no favor towards you, and if it's a cure to your condition that you are looking for, look elsewhere. You have no friends here. Without hesitating, Tendus explains the situation to the head of the Secret Sect, who listens politely but with a look of passive disinterest on his face. Finally, when Tendus is finished, Zobork replies, on the verge of laughter but in his same nasal voice, Oh come now... you don't actually believe all of that world-tree wish-wash, do you? The attacks are nothing more than tricks of nature, nothing more. Freaks from the Interior, I wager. But let's just say I humor you for a moment. What's in it for me? A little entertainment? Tendus suggests, the twinkle in his eye gleaming mischievously. Sniffles the Wizard puts a finger on his chin and his eyes turn upward in thought. Ok, Tendus, you have a deal. What shall it be? he squeaks. A test of wits! Tendus declares. Suddenly you don't like where this is going. You move to put an end to it but Gug places a staying hold on your shoulder and gives you his famous 'don't do anything stupid - he knows what he's doing' look. A greedy gleam suddenly plays over Zobork's eyes. Clearly Tendus represents some sort of antagonist to him, though you can't imagine why, and the chance to outwit his nemesis is obviously attractive. Yes, quite a good idea, he returns, I shall concoct a riddle. If you answer correctly, I shall pay Max to heal you. If you lose, you die. Fair? Yes, give us your worst! Tendus replies before you can get 'now wait just a minute' out of your mouth. Then it begins. Here is my riddle. To the west there are four identical boxes. Of them, one contains the money you need. The others contain certain death. {One's in the north; three's in the south.} {Two is on fire, four holds no food for your mouth.} {On us four many people their fortunes do blame,} {And I am the one who is known by two names.} Good luck gentlemen, Sniffles snorts, I suspect I won't be seeing you again. He stalks off, cackling. Tendus walks up to you, a frown on his face. Ok, Sedran, he says in a distracted voice, you humans are supposed to be good at riddles. It's a good thing, because I'm just horrible at them.
• Событие
  • 73, 102 суша
  • Сообщение: Tendus draws you aside before you can enter the tall, trapezoid shaped structure that lies before you. This is the Secret Sect's headquarters, I can only assume. Inside they will have a mage school. You must visit it and learn what they have to teach you. Likely they will give you a book -- write down everything they say. The spells may not make much sense to you right off, but in time you'll learn to use them effectively. If we are going to travel to the Interior, you're going to need to know a little magic to survive. We'll wait here, ok? You nod your head and prepare to enter the Secret Sect HQ.
• Событие
  • 75, 102 суша
  • Сообщение: You exit the Guild, feeling somehow... older, wiser... stronger. Although the spells you have learned are simple, you can see how they might come in useful against an enemy. You leaf through your new spell book absently. Where can you learn new spells? Tendus approaches. The rest of your army must be waiting back at the gate. Well? he inquires, putting a hand on your shoulder. I feel... weird. I never thought I would be a magician. Most people don't, and when magic leaves your fingertips for the first time, it does feel strange… but powerful, no? he replies. You nod your head. Now, I cannot teach you much, because it will take my own powers some time to heal. And as they do, I will teach you more. But right now, I shall teach you a few necessary spells. What I tell you is not out of vanity, but in the days to come, you must protect me, for only I can get us into the realm of the World Tree. If I die, hope is lost, because you will not have access to the tree that you need to heal. Use this magic in whatever way you will, but use it above all to make sure no harm comes to me. Do you understand? You nod your head, disquieted by the words that come from the Wizard's mouth. Good, he continues, then listen close to what I have to teach you. Copy them in your book if you must....
• Событие
  • 50, 102 суша
  • Сообщение: Now being a member of the Secret Sect and a full-fledged Wizard, Tendus Clevus is able to gain you entrance to the green gates which you passed earlier. Standing before you, set into the cavern wall like a giant emerald, is a shimmering door of writhing green energy. Tendus turns to you, the green glow from the door behind him silhouetting his giant stooped ogre body and dying his face and hair a sickly ghoulish green. I had a little talk with my buddy Bozork the Wizard, he says matter-of-factly. Isn't that Zobork? Duk pipes in, looking curiously but also disdainfully at the magical portal. Whatever, Tendus snaps, irritated at the interruption. The time has come for me to tell you a few other things. The wizard hesitates to make sure everyone is listening, then continues. The Secret Sect created these so that they could travel around the ogre kingdom with ease. Now we shall be able to use it. Unfortunately, the magical network does not extend into the Interior. As you know, there has been some contact with your human allies, if that's what they are, from somewhere in the Interior. Remnants of Kayerts's and Carlier's party, no doubt, before they found their way to the Portal of Earth -- the doorway that leads to the realm of the World Trees. I believe this is what our friends Kayerts and Carlier found, though whether that is what they were looking for, we may never know. In any case, it is there that we must go. Perhaps these humans in the Interior will know more about Kayerts and his mission. But that is not important now. Before we can do anything about the Portal of Earth, we must get to the Interior, and that is easier said than done, I'm afraid. The Interior is essentially a giant plateau, and the only way there is via a small pass far to the west, which by all reports has been taken by legions of the lizard-creatures which even now continue their attacks against my people. The only way ABOVE ground, that is... I do not follow, Gug says in confusion. There is a tunnel that will take us there, Tendus replies, Owned and operated by a band of rogues to the north of Togor. They keep it well hidden, behind their hideout, and use it for smuggling purposes. How do you know this? Gug demands. The ogre armies should have been told of its existence! That does not matter, Tendus counters, wagging a stubby finger, The Secret Sect seems to know many things, and this was one of them. Be thankful that they DID know! We must make haste and go there at once, as soon as all our preparations are made. Even now I can feel Traemask's power fading. We must get to her, and quickly, before it's too late. Gug frowns, not happy at having a group of rogues being successful at smuggling supplies to the Interior without his knowing about it. It takes some time to convince Duk to enter the portal, but eventually, with promises of candy, money and the chance to kill a few bad humans, he goes through, with you trailing after. Feelings of dread and the burden of responsibility weigh upon your mind, however, and making that first step -- for that is what this is -- is not easy for you either.
• Башня
  • 6, 70 суша
  • Название: The Needle
• Хижина предсказателя
  • 22, 85 суша
  • Сообщение: The heat inside the foundry is oppressive and except for the bright orange fire of the furnace, the room is without light. A large orb of a man with the strong arms of a blacksmith but the belly of a drinker stands in front of a massive bellows, fanning the fire of the stove while an assistant heats up a rod of some sort of metal. You wonder absently why a group of wizards have a blacksmith, but your thoughts flitter away when the blacksmith notices you and barks something to the assistant. The assistant returns from the back room after a moment with a giant mug of water (or ale?). In one huge gulp, the blacksmith drinks the cold liquid down, wipes his mouth with the back of a sooty hand and approaches. I was told of your coming, he says in a gruff voice, Sel Selim instructed me on what must be done. But you must bring me materials. I must have Malirite Ore, of course, and some liquid metal to temper the blade. Come back when you have these, and I shall forge you the greatest sword ever made since the cleaver Malaxinthis, carried by Calaxion himself! The blacksmith returns to his bellows and you return to your horses.
• Событие
  • 6, 71 суша
  • Сообщение: A massive marble building stands before you. Complete with pillars and exquisite capitals and gold gilding around the giant set of double doors (with smaller double-doors cut into them), the base of the Needle collides with the cave's ceiling, no doubt being continued above ground. A single winding snow-covered road makes its way up to the Needle's entrance, wide enough only for two horses at a time. At this rate, it would take your army months to get up there. Wait here, you tell Thomas. You're going to leave them under HIS care? Jack snorts. Shut up! you tell your mental other half. For the last week or so, your helmet's power has flickered on and off like a torch in a light rain-shower. Every now and then, the evil voice within makes his way to the surface long enough to say something nasty. It's all you can do to control your own mind. You had better find a cure and fast, or this adventure isn't going to have a pretty ending. Slowly, you make your way up the narrow incline. After an hour of walking, you finally arrive at the giant door to the Needle. The building is as silent as a dead man. You approach cautiously, prepared for the worst. Suddenly, one of the small inlaid doors opens and a young man wearing a green shiny robe and sporting fiery (albeit graying) orange hair steps out. By the gods! We'd thought you'd never come! he nearly yells, rushing forward to grab your arm. Could this be the Sel Selim that Roland wrote you about? No, of course I'm not Sel, he replies to your thought. My name's Tobin of Aryne. You open your mouth to ask if he had met Roland, but the wizard anticipates
• Событие
  • 70, 91 суша
  • Сообщение: Your boat lands with a huge splash, but to your surprise manages to stay in one piece. Although soaked and a few thrown overboard, most appear to be uninjured. Looking around, you see that you are in a large underground cave that is lit by some unseen natural source. The air smells like salt and sulphur and a cool wind stirs the lowered sails. Your attention is called by a soft whimpering and after a short period of looking, you finally find it's source
• Событие
  • 80, 82 суша
  • Сообщение: The river opens up into an enormous underground lake. In the distance, you can barely make out a sandy shoreline. There appears to be torches lining the walls of the cavern by the shore. Harold - who has since regained his composure - gives you a silent look that says a thousand words. This cave is inhabited, and in your experience, people who inhabit caves are not usually friendly.
• Событие
  • 101, 65 суша
  • Сообщение: The road again forks here. The western path seems less used than the northern path. Strangely, a few stray footprints also lead east, towards the shore, but there seems to be nothing of interest over there... or is there?
• Событие
  • 106, 58 суша
  • Сообщение: What's that to the north? It appears to be another purple-magic barrier. This must be a path oft used by the wizards. After all, it seems to require the use of water-floating magic.
• Страж задания
  • 87, 102 суша
  • Сообщение: This wall before you is constructed of World Wood. To pass it you must smash it with an item of the same construction.
• Событие
  • 89, 95 суша
  • Сообщение: The smell of dirt and dung and mold and fire fills your nose and you drink it like a potion, reveling in the sheer earthiness of it. Your pleasure lasts only a moment, however, for when you open your eyes, a frightening sight besets you. Standing over 15 feet tall is the cyclops who spoke to you through the door. He does not look pleased. His single eye glares at you, but it is his frown that conveys anger. A single eye betrays no emotion, your father once said. That's why the cyclops are so dangerous. You never knew if they were going to laugh or roar until your head was smashed in. Speak, ogreling. My patience is short. What are you doing with Club of Galaxofagus? My name is Zijitakis Mol, nephew to Murak, the King of Ogretree, you begin, your legs quivering with fear. Murak is no King, the cyclops returns. He lost the right, which you now hold. I care not for names. Names mean nothing. Blood means nothing. Only strength. It is all my fault, you tell him, I did not mean for this to happen. I was... scared. I was promised... promised that they would fix me. But it was all a lie. All a damnable lie. The cyclops says nothing. Please, you urge, Murak is the true King, descendant of Craag. The blood of the first King runs deep in my Uncle's veins. He is a good man, deceived by an unworthy nephew. Allow me to wait here until my Uncle arrives. He will pass your tests. I know he will. The massive eye closes for a moment and then reopens. So be it, Diarphigo, he says finally, using the cyclops word for dwarf. Wait there. Drink from the well if you wish. But do not pass the fires or the test shall begin, and you shall be the tested.
• Событие
  • 89, 94 суша
  • Сообщение: Nephew, is all you can manage to choke forth without roaring when you see Zijitakis waiting by the well to the south. No cyclops are to be seen, but you can smell them, hiding in the dark. No doubt, they are interested in how you will handle the situation. So are you, you muse. Zijitakis looks up at you with fearful eyes. Leaning against him is the Warlord's Club, polished and shining in the firelight like it was forged from brown metal. To see it again almost makes you weep. Uncle, I - he begins, stepping forward. Tell me, you interrupt, holding up a hand, how much did you get? How much did they pay you for Togor? How much did you get for the lives of thousands of innocents? Was it worth it? Uncle, he says regretfully, you cannot understand. Can't I? you bite back angrily. Am I so stupid? No... they... promised me, sire. Promised that none would be hurt. That it would be for the greater good... and that they could... he pauses and clenches his jaw. After a moment, he looks at you, tears swimming in his eyes, that they could make me a whole person. Of course, you think with a sigh. It is the sad but obvious ending to a tragic story. Hated by his father, your brother, until the day the bitter old man died in a barfight, poor Zijitakis faced a childhood filled with cruel jibes and torturous ridicule. What hurt worst was that much of it came from his own kin. Jobar Mol never could come to grips with the fact that his only son was a mutant, worthless as a fighter and incapable of continuing Jobar's bloodline. Your brother always let his son know of his disappointment. If only you had been born normal, you remember once hearing Jobar say to Zij, then I could be proud of you... but everything you do mocks me. When old Gorliam, Lord of Togor, died heirless, you had out of pity given the title to Zij. He had, after all, shown promise in his studies and could handle finances with skill and intelligence. And the people of Togor had grown to love him in a queer sort of way. But as they say, pity can be a vice, and your decision came to haunt you. Although capable, Zij spent thousands of pounds of gold researching a cure to his ailment, nearly crippling the Togorian treasury. You turned a blind eye, half out of pity and half out of hope that his search might be fruitful. It is small wonder that he was easily swayed by the promise of a cure. And they gave you nothing? you ask finally, looking the poor toadish man in the eyes. Compared to your height, he is little more than a flea. After Togor was taken, they slaughtered the women and children and infirm and marched off the young men and boys to who knows where. I was sent southwest, to the treasury. I had to do one more thing, they told me. Capture the Warlord's Club and a new body shall be yours, they said. Zij falls to his knees. Oh, Uncle, I'm so sorry. I did not know... curses, for I am an abomination and have failed you, the only one who loved me... The miserable creature is almost enough to bring you to tears. You bend over and pick him up. Without a word, you hug him tightly, and he sniffles like a child. Almost unconsciously, your hand drifts down to your belt, where you can feel the long curved blade of your dagger dangling. The metal is cool, and you play your fingers over the crossbar, the hilt, the pommel, finally taking a firm grip and squeezing it. There's no other choice, you whisper in your mind. You pull Zij back and look him in the eyes. You know what I must do? you ask. It is what I deserve, he replies. I am a thief and a traitor. I deserve worse than your dagger. Yes, but that is not why I must do it, you whisper. Do you see? Zij turns his head and sees the large eyes staring at you from the darkness of the cave. Your nephew turns back and nods. He understands. If I don't, they will think me weak, and unfit to rule. Our cause is lost without them. I have no choice. I know, Uncle, is all he replies. I love you. You cannot bring yourself to reply. Silently, you raise your dagger and hold it poised above your nephew's chest. May the branches of Baloskamagalar protect you and embrace you now and forever, you whisper. And clenching your teeth, you do what must be done.
• Событие
  • 89, 96 суша
  • Сообщение: You let the boy's body drop to the ground. Your hands are covered with his blood, and for a moment you fear you might faint. A man in whose veins flows your own blood should never be slain by thine own hand. These words of the great sage Mokavakius resonate in your brain. What have you done? Before you can lose yourself in your own astonishment, you note the approach of a cyclops from the darkness, one of the watchers. You recognize him immediately. Ah, Vaag, you nearly laugh. How good to see you. And you, Murak. You have demonstrated your resolve. That pleases us. To hell with your pleasure, you hiss. Tread carefully, friend, or I shall demonstrate my irritation as well. That I should have to suffer such petty tests is an insult to my honor. You already knew me and my resolve. I have shed my own blood here. Is that not enough? Yet you will still have me dance through hoops to prove myself. Is that not so? You know it is, Vaag replies unctuously. It seems to me your own blood deserved what he got. He betrayed his own people. A King must punish those who would fight against him, else he is not fit to be a King. He was a boy, you rasp, choking on tears still fighting to be released. A boy to whom you foolishly gave power, Vaag counters. A King rules not with his heart but with his mind and his fist. You bite back a curse. It is no use arguing with such stubborn creatures. The deed is done, you finally whisper icily. What else must I do? I require your help. Of course you do, Vaag says with a smile, fading back into the darkness. And we are more than willing to provide it. But you must prove your strength first. Go south when you are ready. If you succeed, our aid is yours. If you fail, you will be dead.
• Циклоп
  • 88, 100 суша
  • Сообщение: Come, Ogre King, show us your strength! Or die like weaklings should!
• Циклоп
  • 102, 97 суша
  • Сообщение: The cyclops, all of them carrying enormous boulders, fall into line behind you.
• Королевский циклоп
  • 101, 100 суша
  • Сообщение: Sitting in a giant throne made of carved sandstone is an enormous cyclops who wears a black patch over his single eye. How he can see, nobody knows, but the last person who tried to sneak by him got squashed like a bug. Ah, Murak Mol, King of the Ogres. You have proven yourself worthy of our support by recovering the World Wood weapon of your ancestors and by besting my elite guards. Please, what is it that is so important that you need my assistance? Polyphemus, you say with a bow. This test... it makes no sense to me. You know my worthiness. Why make me demonstrate it by killing my kin? Polyphemus smiles and sits back in his throne, a process that causes the very earth to shake. My good lord, he rumbles, it may be your ancestors to whom the World Trees entrusted the guardianship of Life, but it is MY ancestors to whom the gods entrusted the guardianship of Earth. Without Earth, there is no Life, there is no World Tree. Do you not see? So that, in a way, makes you subservient to me. I can only rely on the strong, and if proving that requires you to kill the weak, so be it. His answer does not entirely please you, but there's not much to be done about it. I need the aid of you and your kind. As you no doubt know, something has gone amiss with Traemaskeelix. She is dying because of something some human has done to her. We must travel to her realm and cure her... but we cannot because of an obstacle that reportedly blocks the way. Only your strength can remove the obstacle from our path! Polyphemus leans forward, his sightless face staring at you despite his masked eye. And why should I care what happens to Traemaskeelix? I am made from Earth, as are my brethren. If a human has poisoned the World Tree, I say good! It was a human who did this, he indicates his blind eye with a finger, And all for a measly pack of sheep. I say good riddance to you all. But Polyphemus, you admonish him, Yyou should know better. Without Life, what is Earth? Nothing... the Earth will die soon after, I assure you, without the creatures to keep it company. The giant cyclops frowns but remains silent. You think to trick me with word games, ogre? I do not mean anything. The truth does not need me to tell it. You are smart enough to figure it out. Ha ha! Polyphemus cackles, which sends rocks rolling and falling. You always are good for a conversation, small one. OK, I shall help you. Allow me a moment to collect my favorite rocks and we shall be on our way. My personal guard will no doubt like to accompany us. They are fat and bored. See them to the north. Breathing a sigh of relief, you give Polyphemus a bow between equals, and prepare yourself for a journey. The cyclops must be delivered to Sedran immediately, so he may bring them to the Interior when he goes there... if he can find a way!
• Страж задания
  • 64, 79 суша
  • Сообщение: The Cyclopes that you have brought with you are barely able to stand in this narrow cavern and Polyphemus growls when he realizes he has to walk on hands and knees because he is so massive. Despite whatever premonitions you had had aThe cyclops that you have brought with you are barely able to stand in this narrow cavern and Polyphemus growls when he realizes he has to walk on hands and knees because he is so massive. Despite whatever premonitions you had had about going into a cave, you are surprised to find that it is well lit and the path is well worn. Aside from the shadows and the sounds of dripping water, you hardly can tell you're in a natural cavern. It seems the rogues use this tunnel a lot. OK, you say finally, turning to Scott. This is where we must split up. The cave is too narrow to travel in a group. Polyphemus and his kin will have to travel in single-file line and Tendus should take the rear so that those rogues do not ambush us from behind. We'll regroup when the cave becomes less confined, agreed? Scott nods his head and begins to deliver your order.
• Событие
  • 61, 71 суша
  • Сообщение: Where exactly does this cavern go? you ask your rogue guide, a short dark-haired man with a nasty scar below his mouth. In the past day, you have been trying - mostly in vain - to elicit some information from the man, but he's been about as unyielding as an iron door. You have bought your passage, the man sneers, not information. You consider letting Duk have a go at the man; the goblin would like nothing more than the chance to threaten a human he does not trust. You decide against it, however. No use burning your bridges before you've finished crossing them. You are about to press the question when Gug comes thundering towards you from the back of the line, bellowing your name. You swivel, nearly smashing your head into a jagged stalactite in the process. Sedran, he says in between breaths, Tendus reports that several members of the rear guard have disappeared. Fat Bok is with him, a mostly-eaten leg of mutton clenched in his paws. The obese ogre has a sour look on his face. Disappeared? you ask, eyebrows going into knots. How could they disappear? I don't know, Sedran... there were there one moment and the next.. A sharp whistling sound suddenly fills your ears and the next moment you are covered with warm, sticky blood. With a heavy grunt, Fat Bok doubles over and nearly collapses into you. A razor sharp iron arrowhead is protruding from his neck. The leg bone drops from his hands and he clutches at your clothing. He tries to speak, but nothing comes up but bubbles and blood. A look of shock passes over his eyes, and then he crumples to the ground, dead. It is all you can do to breathe. Gugalion wears a surprised, horrified expression and he reaches out for his fallen friend. Another whistling sound sizzles by you, and your rogue guide flies off his feet as another arrow embeds itself in his chest. The realization finally comes to you, delayed by the sudden death of the fat ogre. Arrows mean danger. AMBUSH! you nearly scream. With your party scattered, it will be difficult to mount a sturdy defense, but nonetheless, you draw your sword and charge blindly into the darkness.
• Событие
  • 72, 66 суша
  • Сообщение: The cavern opens up suddenly, and you find yourself taking in a deep breath. Your shoulder is causing you great discomfort. Scott tells you that the arrows were tipped with a mild irritant and the pain should go away in a week or so. You grumble something about the meaning of mild and send him on his way. Gug has said barely four words since the ambush and none of the rogues will get within a hundred yards of him. Even so, he glares at them all the time like death glaring at the living. Mu's presence keeps his actions in check, thankfully. It takes several hours, but finally your entire army emerges from the tighter passages behind you. Tendus limps into the light last, using a wooden spear as a walking aid. A bandage is wrapped around his thigh and he smiles when he sees similar garb around your shoulder. Got me a badge of courage, he chuckles, Scott give you that nonsense about a mild irritant, too? I slapped him hard for that one! How many casualties? you ask the wizard. Tendus thinks for a moment and then replies, Surprisingly little. Those creatures seemed to be... clumsy with their bodies. They did not fight as well as some of the other creatures we've faced. There was something extra unnatural about them. We lost some foot soldiers and Duk lost a few friends. I think most of our casualties came from your friend Gug, over there. Aye, you reply, that one has a temper. Come, Tendus says finally, hobbling over to you. Let's have a drink. A drink? you ask. Funny, you hadn't noticed the underground ocean.
• Событие
  • 62, 70 суша
  • Сообщение: Chad, the nearest rogue to you, collapses with an axe between his eyes. In a fury, Gugalion removes his heavy instrument from the rogue's head and looks for another. Gug, you say, trying to remain calm despite the throbbing pain in your shoulder, you mustn't kill them. We could be lost down here... forever! I care not! the ogre growls, swinging the flat of his axe at you in a 'keep-away-from-me-or-I'll-make-you-regret-it' gesture. They betrayed us... can't you see? That ambush was no accident. It was well timed. My friend died, and since he was worth more than a hundred of these scum, I'm going to kill a hundred of them. The ambush WAS well timed... almost too well timed, and they were creatures you hadn't seen before. Mammoth snake-like women carrying bows. The eerie thing was that one of them almost looked familiar. You had tried calling Sarah's name, but the creature had returned the favor by shooting you in the arm. Gods, but that hurt. Even now you were feeling dizzy. But it couldn't be helped. If Gug kills all the rogues, you could be lost down here forever. Where are we? you hear the ogre roar from a distance. Turning, you see that he has a struggling rogue held three feet off the ground, his fist slowly crushing the breath from the poor creature. Gug, stop. The words were about to come out of your mouth, but someone else beats you to it. Gug's head whips around, his ears recognizing the voice, if not the timbre then the well-practiced authority of it. At first you cannot make out the owner of the voice, but he steps into the light and you nearly laugh. My liege, Gug whispers. The rogue still dangles helplessly from the ogre's fist. He has stopped struggling. Look what they did to poor Bok. I will kill every one of them! No you won't, Mu says soothingly. We need them. Kill them later, if you wish. Murak's son seems to have aged since you last saw him. His eyes betray worry and fatigue, although his face is as stern as ocean-weathered rock. He approaches, clad in an ivory breastplate and dull black chain mail. A giant iron greatsword dangles from his waste. They did nothing. The creatures regularly watch this road for parties such as yours. How do you know this? Gug demands, dropping the now dead rogue from his grasp and discarding him like a piece of refuse. Why aren't you in Tailia, training as your father commanded? Has your father been killed? No, Mu replies. My father still lives. He fights the armies that emerge from the Interior in greater and greater frequency. I could not bear to be cooped up in training any longer, not when Rigga... Mu turns aside, the shadows hiding his tears. So you know? Gug asks, suddenly forgetting the rogues. I know, Mu said. And I mean to find her. The creatures took her, just like they take all able-bodied innocents they capture. The rogues here provide the means of their escape. That is all. They get paid well by the creatures, although always anonymously. They do not know who orders the raids or where the creatures go with their captives. Killing the rogues is venting your frustration on the wrong party, my friend. Save your anger for the real enemy. When we find him, you interject. Mu turns to you and gives you a taut embrace. Captain, he says, please forgive my intrusion, but I would go with you, so that I may find my love. I pray she is not harmed. Of course, you reply, nursing your throbbing shoulder. You feel as if you may faint at any moment. Pray excuse me, you say finally, I must seek attention for this. If you could, Gugalion, see that there have been no other attacks. I want to continue on within the hour. Gug nods and, after giving a last frustrated kick to Chad's corpse, stomps off.
• Событие
  • 100, 73 суша
  • Сообщение: The road forks here. Torches burn in regularly spaced sconces along the wall. The rogues must use this passage frequently. It is to the south you want, a rogue says, pointing in that direction. His eyes never leave Gug, although the ogre is more than a hundred feet away. That will take you to the Outpost of Progress. Well, it's to the south we'll go! you reply, turning your army in that direction.
• Событие
  • 102, 85 суша
  • Сообщение: A small door is set about four feet above the ground into the smooth face of the cavern wall. This is it, your rogue guide tells you. The Outpost of Progress lies behind this door. THIS? Gug roars. You go first, little man! The rogue looks nervously at you. It is a one-way lith, sire, he says. If I were to go, I could never get back here. What good does a one-way door do you? you ask, suspiciously. None whatsoever, he replies. The creatures built it. They use it for raids and such. They have other ways of getting back to their lair, or at least that's what they say. You have no reason to doubt the man or any way to verify whether he is lying or telling the truth. You have to take his word for it. But that's not your biggest problem. How are we ever going to fit Polyphemus through this thing? you ask to nobody in particular. Size doesn't matter, Tendus says, limping up to the lith. I've seen this magic before. One must only will himself through the portal and he will go. I see no reason not to go, although the fact that these creatures have a portal right to this Outpost of Progress is.. shall we say, eerie? Agreed, you reply. You look to Mu Mol, who is in turn looking at you. He nods. Without another word, you will yourself through the portal.
• Страж задания
  • 30, 57 суша
  • Сообщение: This is an evil place, you can feel it. Your men absolutely refuse to enter unless you have some holy icon to protect them and ward off fear.
• Событие
  • 32, 57 суша
  • Сообщение: This cave is dark, and not just because it's underground. Indeed, the sunlight seems afraid to penetrate even the most shallow regions of the cavern. Your underlings don't seem to be too eager to spelunk down here. Men are such cowards, you think to yourself. It takes a woman to get the dirty work done.
• Событие
  • 25, 53 суша
  • Сообщение: The cave kinks and bends and turns so much that you can scarce remember which way you came from. Although the Ankh pendant glows faintly with its own inner light, it is almost not enough to keep away the impinging darkness, darkness so thick it seems to be alive. Tendrils of fog lick against your legs like the tentacles of some giant water-dwelling beast, and they are as cold as ice. Something nasty must live down here... something nasty indeed.
• Событие
  • 11, 53 суша
  • Сообщение: Suddenly the darkness evaporates, like a morning mist on a hot summer day. The cavern opens up into a vast chamber filled with lush greenery and giant red bushes that are half again as tall as an ogre. Fat berries the size of apples weigh down the boughs of the bushes and lend the air a sweet yet salty smell. The berries have a faint rose glow that bathes the natural light of the cavern is a warm shade of pink. It's almost.... beautiful. Still, you can't help but notice that your Ankh is glowing even more fiercely than before.
• Событие
  • 12, 51 суша
  • Сообщение: A small path winds its way through the dense vegetation. Large dragonflies the size of small cats buzz back and forth, their multifaceted eyes pondering you quizzically. Where are all of these plants COMING from? you wonder. Suddenly, your nostrils catch the scent of something foul.... then you recognize it
• Событие
  • 12, 50 суша
  • Сообщение: You step into the small clearing and almost immediately feel the urge to vomit. What lies before you is a grisly testament to the frailty of mortal flesh. The victim is hardly recognizable as human. Only a hand and a leg are discernible from the mess that decorates the small vale. Pools of blood and gore and brain have coagulated into chunky brown masses that collect around the large hunks of charred meat. A length of intestine and some other organs you can't identify are strung over several of the fruity bushes. It reminds you in a sadistic sort of way of the silver tinsel your father used to string around the pine trees outside your house during the winter solstice. The leg, severed above the knee but still housed in a knee-high brown riding boot, stands alone in the center of the rest of the tattered remains of the poor victim; the other leg is nowhere to be found. You stand in stunned silence for several minutes considering exactly what you should do. One of your men steps forward into the carnage, kneels, and brings up a small piece of blue cloth. On it is embroidered a white cross, and it is then that you feel your heart sink. Madam Timen, you mouth silently. What happened to her? the man with the cloth says in awe. It looks like... she's been pureed! I think we had best get out of here! you scream suddenly. Something is definitely not right here. You turn to run, and your men are quick to follow your example, but you find your way blocked by a blue dragon the size of which is almost unfathomable. Even more unfathomable perhaps is how quietly he appeared behind you. For something so big to move so silently must require... Magic yes! comes a little squeaky voice. Magic we have much of, human! Fluttering down to sit on the dragon's shoulder like a butterfly is... well, something that looks a lot like a butterfly. Purple with lacy wings and two springy antennae, the little creature smiles mischievously. Looking like you have seen a ghost, you have! the faerie dragon snickers. Or maybe just a corpse! The giant blue dragon snorts at the joke and a small trail of smoke escapes his nose. His feline eyes narrow as they study you. He appears to be relaxed, but your intuition tells you otherwise. Yon human tested my friend Koko's patience. And look what happened to her. Yark! the faerie dragon laughs. Koko doesn't like to eat humans, just to tear them into pieces. Haha! He had a grand time with that little pesky human who would not play with us. In answer, Koko opens his mouth, showing you two rows of razor-sharp teeth. A forks tongue flickers between them. See what fine pointers my Koko has? the faerie says. The better to tear you in half with! What is it you want? you demand. If this stupid creature is going to kill you, you'd as soon have it done and over with. Being toyed with like a cat's dinner is enough to infuriate you. What is it Jibbi want? the faerie says. She flutters off Koko's shoulder to hover in front of you. The creature has enormous eyes and long, trollish hands with pointed purple fingers. Jibbi want to play! Surely something can be worked out. There was no reason to kill that human. She was looking for your berries, you reply. That human would not play, Jibbi says petulantly, And Glowenberries are not for mortals like you. Fruit of the gods! Forbidden. Koko and Jibbi and Mosko and Blackeye and Rimi and friends guard for gods. Humans who sneak in and try to steal get killed unless they play with Jibbi. Will you play? This conversation is exasperating, but unfortunately, you see no way to extricate yourself from it, not with Koko blocking your retreat. What shall we play? you ask, trying to keep your voice level. How about... rip the arm from the soldier! Jibbi cackles, Koko likes that game. He can play all night. Who wants to go first? Not surprisingly, there are no volunteers. Jibbi seems to be disappointed and Koko just sits there, looking at you hungrily. You trade words with the faerie dragon for several minutes, and each of his 'games' is more demeaning than the last. Finally, losing your patience, you scream, Just let us go! What, you don't want to play? Jibbi whines. Toys that don't play are worthless and worthless things get kill-- Suddenly, one of your men growls and charges the little creature, sword out and swinging wildly. Several other of your men join the fray within seconds. Jibbi takes a bad cut on the wing and sinks in the air. KOKO, get them! the faerie screams, surrounded by your attacking men. Quicker than you would have thought possible, Koko rushes forward, half flying and half hopping. He swipes out with his taloned hand and catches a young soldier named Rolf in the abdomen. The force of the blow tears him in half like a mainsail in a strong gale; you are showered with blood and gore. In a heartbeat, you draw your own longsword, but by the time the sound of ringing metal reaches your ears, three more of your men have been torn to pieces. You watch in horror as Lieutenant Tairen, your second in command, is crushed by a well-timed stomp of Koko's clawed foot. But it isn't until Jibbi raises her hands and releases a ball of flame from her fingertips that things really go to hell. That's when you notice the other pairs of eyes emerge from the undergrowth.
• Событие
  • 42, 4 суша
  • Сообщение: You exit the cave and are confronted by a beautiful sight... an underground lake with waters so clear you can see the lake-bottom even in the darkness of the cave. On an island to the southeast, giant bonfires burn with hot intensity. You feel a tug in that direction. Jack is struggling against the pull, struggling against your control, struggling to get away from here. You can almost feel him growl. What is it that he fears so much? Quickly, you prepare to summon a boat.
• Хижина предсказателя
  • 82, 53 суша
  • Сообщение: Gofun's house is small but larger than the rest of the dwarf huts. The door is made from a single piece of cast iron, with a pair of crossed battle-axes shaped into the center. The old dwarf opens the gate for you, letting you inside. You cross the single room to where a surprisingly young dwarf sits in a massive (by dwarven standards at least) iron chair. A warm fire burns in the hearth to your right, casting the entire room in a yellow glow. Aside from a wooden table and a rocking chair, the room is devoid of furniture. I am Gofun, Lord of Dwarves, the dwarf in the chair says. Forgive the sparseness of my quarters. My lord father was killed not a week ago in the mines and all his stuff was buried with him. Now it is just me, I fear, and my hundred or so living subjects. I am sorry to hear that, you reply, clumsily taking a knee. Is there anything that we could do? If you could put an end to the raids of the lizardmen that visit us every week, or if you could put to death the rogues who come down here once a month demanding all of our ore we would be much obliged. Not that we have any more ore to give, since our mines were taken over by the creatures who visited us from the dark. Creatures? you ask. Worse than the lizardmen. Them we can fight off, but these... Gofun shakes his head. Suddenly he looks up. Perhaps you can free our mines for us! If you would, I could give you a reward! You best bring a lot of troops, though. They're nasty, and they're numerous! You consider for a moment but don't see the harm in helping out these friendly creatures. They seem to be able to swing weapons, if nothing else, and may be useful allies in the trials to come.
• Событие
  • 65, 51 суша
  • Сообщение: Two deep parallel ruts cut their way into the darkness. Looks like a lot of carts are wheeled through here. Intermingled with the tracks are hundreds of little footprints.
• Событие
  • 73, 54 суша
  • Сообщение: The cave opens up into an enormous grotto. Hundreds of squat little houses made of mud and stone litter both sides of the road, forming a motley city of no discernible organization. Short folk hobble to and fro, waddling like penguins because of their short, stunted legs. They eye you warily, none of them bold enough to speak to you. The wagon road leads east through the village, forking north some distance ahead.
• Гном
  • 75, 55 суша
  • Сообщение: The short creatures scatter when you approach. Although many of them carry weapons, there seems to be no fight left in them.
• Боевой гном
  • 81, 53 суша
  • Сообщение: An old dwarf with a long gray beard and several rings in his ears steps in front of you. The leather-wrapped hilt of an axe nearly as long as he is rests beneath his hands, the wicked two-sided head digging into the ground. So now humans come to take our lands? he says. I come to take nobody's lands, you reply. The dwarf snorts. Funny thing to say coming from a woman who wears a skull on her head! You reach up and touch the grisly helmet. Although hideous, it protects you from the ravings of Jack and whatever other voices have since been born, you remind yourself. But how long will its protections last? Do you wish to speak to Gofun, Lord of Dwarves? he asks finally. I suppose, you reply, not really sure what you will speak about. Then by all means, he says, stepping aside. But if you try anything, I'll split your head in two.
• Гном
  • 82, 56 суша
  • Сообщение: More of the dwarves run away from you, darting into their homes and slamming the door before you can so much as utter a word.
• Королевский минотавров
  • 54, 42 суша
  • Сообщение: You have finally reached the end of the road. In the darkness beyond, lit only by natural light and a few sputtering torches, you can make out an enormous pit, a quarry of some kind. The sound of dripping water is your only companion. Here and there you can see a few dismembered dwarven corpses and a few overturned ore carts. One of your men walks over a picks up a hunk of ore, turning it in his hands. From this distance, it appears to be blackish-gray, with crystal sparkles, like quartz. The next think you know, the hunk of ore is flying through the air and the soldier's head splits in two from neck to scalp with a sickening THWUD, an enormous war-axe stuck right in the middle. Ah... humans! a deep voice rumbles from behind. The wielder of the axe removes his weapon from the soldier's head and kicks the corpse aside. These dwarves are cut up like sausages, the creature bellows. I need a challenge. Perhaps you shall provide it... but probably not. From the darkness steps a giant of a man, the bloody axe that must weigh as much as an ox carried casually in one hand. He is well over eight feet tall and broad of shoulder, with legs like tree-trunks and arms that could flatten your head without a second thought. But perhaps what is most disturbing is his head, which isn't human at all, but that of a cow. By the gods! one of your men shouts. With a roar, the beast attacks, followed by several more just like him.
• Случайный монстр 6
  • 64, 42 суша
  • Сообщение: Strange creatures guard the mines!
• Случайный монстр 6
  • 62, 46 суша
  • Сообщение: Strange creatures guard the mines!
• Событие
  • 55, 43 суша
  • Сообщение: The battle is short and bloody, but you emerge victorious. Your sword-arm quivers from exertion and fear. The brains of one of the creatures can be seen running down the length of your sword in red chunks. You wipe them off in disgust. All around you the dead enemy lie in hacked pieces. A few of your own men's corpses complicate the picture. Even now, poor Sir Benfred Mannely is being served a dish of mercy by Sir Jon Califan; the wounded knight is missing half his face and his sword arm at the elbow. Califan grimly does the work with a slim dagger. What were those, my lady? the knight asks you when he is done while wiping the blade off on one of the hairy enemy corpses. I have never seen their like, nor do I wish to again! Califan himself is bleeding from a wound on his leg, but thankfully one that should heal. I do not know, you reply, distracted. Something about the way the shadows beyond move disturbs you, and you can't take your eyes from them. Men with the head of cows? What shall we see next, I wonder? In any case, we should be returning to Gofun to tell him that his mines have been cleared. Califan nods, and then collapses at your feet, an arrow protruding from his back. Looks like the creatures aren't finished yet, after all.
• Событие
  • 49, 22 суша
  • Сообщение: As tiny island seems to be the only place you can land. The larger island to the north is blocked by a series of small towers. This is where we must wait, Tendus says, pointing to the small island. Wait? you ask, puzzled. Why cannot we just head north directly to the gate to the Forest? Because, Tendus says, rolling his eyes, going into the Forest now would be folly. If indeed Traemask is dying, we will need to finish her off so that a new World Tree can be planted. Only with a special weapon can one chop down an immortal being. And where shall we get such a weapon? Will it bring itself to us? In a manner of speaking, Tendus replies. I do not follow, you grumble, irritated by Clevus's word games. That is because you do not listen, the wizard retorts. That man Roland swift is bringing his friend Andrea Mead the necessary ingredients, probably as we speak. She will come here with the sword, although she likely does not know it yet. We must simply wait for her to arrive. And what shall we do in the meantime? you ask. I don't know... perhaps Duk would like a lesson in swordplay? {Player Note}
• Событие
  • 45, 22 суша
  • Сообщение: You reach a small island and it is the only place to land. Sir Thomas Ment puts his lips together in a disapproving frown. There are men on that island, he says, pointing to the east, where you can make out a few small fires. On the outskirts you see what appears to be a human man teaching a goblin how to use a sword. I cannot see a standard, Ment complains. We do not know who they are! This is where I am meant to be, is all you reply. Get the men ready. We are disembarking. {Player Note}
• Указатель
  • 9, 74 суша
  • Сообщение: The Needle - West Portal to Red Grave - East The Workshoppe - South
• Событие
  • 9, 73 суша
  • Сообщение: You emerge from the portal and are assaulted by a blast of cold air. The first thing you come to realize is that you are in a cave. The second thing is that there is a heavy layer of snow on the ground and the third is that there are trees. What manner of cave is this? As if in answer, Sir Thomas Ment mumbles, Wizards, and pulls his cloak tighter around him.
• Крепость
  • 72, 28 суша
  • Название: Domicile Three
  • Название: Pink resources and stuff.
  • Сообщение: The building god cometh. You now can ride forth and kick the living crap out of that puny little blue human guy. Pizzah!
  • Название: More pink!
  • Сообщение: The building god giveth you more stuff with which to smite blue!
  • Название: One more time
  • Сообщение: The building god is noteth pleasedeth. Now have hydrae to eat the enemy.
  • Название: Gold and stuff
• Указатель
  • 97, 36 суша
  • Сообщение: Holding Area. Items to be deposited in testing zones must be left here NO LESS than four days for cleansing.
• Указатель
  • 97, 12 суша
  • Сообщение: The Labs. Off-Limits Black Keyholders ONLY.
• Событие
  • 60, 3 суша
  • Сообщение: Clearly you're looking in the editor and wondering what this place is for.... well, it's an artifact of the original design of this map. Unfortunately, I ran out of space for what I wanted to do and I had to expand the map into a campaign of 3 maps. The area that was supposed to be up here will appear on map3. Since the two maps are part of a campaign, I left the passageway up here so that the player would feel some semblance of connectivity between the maps!
• Событие
  • 97, 1 суша
  • Сообщение: Clearly you're looking in the editor and wondering what this place is for.... well, it's an artifact of the original design of this map. Unfortunately, I ran out of space for what I wanted to do and I had to expand the map into a campaign of 3 maps. The area that was supposed to be up here will appear on map3. Since the two maps are part of a campaign, I left the passageway up here so that the player would feel some semblance of connectivity between the maps!
• Указатель
  • 92, 16 суша
  • Сообщение: The Projects
• Указатель
  • 97, 23 суша
  • Сообщение: Holding Area. Items to be deposited in testing zones must be left here NO LESS than four days for cleansing.
• Указатель
  • 87, 12 суша
  • Сообщение: The Feeder. Resources deposited once per week.
• Указатель
  • 86, 21 суша
  • Сообщение: The Feeder. Resources deposited once per week.
• Указатель
  • 70, 18 суша
  • Сообщение: Test Breed
• Указатель
  • 70, 30 суша
  • Сообщение: Test Breed
• Указатель
  • 70, 6 суша
  • Сообщение: Test Breed
• Указатель
  • 71, 7 суша
  • Сообщение: Test Breed
• Указатель
  • 71, 31 суша
  • Сообщение: Test Breed
• Указатель
  • 80, 8 суша
  • Сообщение: Test breed
• Указатель
  • 80, 32 суша
  • Сообщение: Test breed
• Указатель
  • 81, 18 суша
  • Сообщение: Test breed
• Указатель
  • 71, 19 суша
  • Сообщение: Test breed
• Указатель
  • 84, 17 суша
  • Сообщение: Phase One
• Указатель
  • 78, 20 суша
  • Сообщение: Portal to Mainland and Phase Two.
• Событие
  • 20, 86 суша
  • Сообщение: Smoke billows from an oval shaped building to the north, and the smell of molten iron and sulphur stings your nostrils. The muffled sounds of hammers clanging against hot metal can be heard from within. This must be a smithy of some sort. Jack makes some comment about how even a fool could see that, but you ignore him. This whining and the verbal assaults are getting more frequent, louder, and less easily to control. Before long, you fear, he will begin using your own voice to speak to others again. You shudder at the thought. Dismounting from your horse, you give Sir Thomas Ment the signal to stay ahorse and keep an eye out for trouble while you check out the foundry.
• Ракшас
  • 47, 12 суша
  • Сообщение: You approach the shimmering blue man cautiously. Although Verianus assures you there is no danger, you can't help but grip your new sword's hilt. If the creature notices, he does not show it. Human creature, the blue man says in a voice that sounds like shimmering metal. You have opened the way to the Antamixylion. What is it you seek? We seek to correct the damage that has been done, Quentix, Verianus replies. You know me. I do not mean harm. And what of these other creatures? Quentix asks emotionlessly. Are they like other humans? Do they have hearts of darkness? You judge them unfairly, Quentix, Verianus says, Some apples are sweeter than others. Indeed, replies the elemental, but all apples rot. He doesn't seem to have such a high opinion of you, Gug whispers in your ear. You nod, not taking your eyes from the blue creature. It matters not, Quentix continues, We no longer have the strength to stop you. Enter, Sazlor Verianus. Take the human with you. Traemaskeelix must be aided, and soon. She shall not long remain among the living, and no heir has been chosen. Verianus bows to the elemental and then turns to you. Only you and I proceed from here, he says. You open your mouth to complain, but he holds up a finger. Do not argue. The more of our kind that enters this place, the greater the chances for further damage. It is you and I and that's it. They will have a chance to fight later. The battle will be fought here, in our world. We must go to the Forest to ensure that winning the battle can make a difference. You sigh but make no further complaint. Gugalion senses your disappointment and comes forward. Is there a problem? he asks. You are to stay here, you reply. All of you. Mu and Duk give you looks of disappointment and Scott looks almost like he could pop a blood vessel. Do not argue, you say when he is about to protest. We shall not be long. You have fought many battles and there will be more to fight in the future. Rest up while you can. I must go alone. You give a final look to Mu that says, 'Do not worry, I've not forgotten you. We'll find her.' Come, Verianus says, putting an arm around your shoulders. The portal awaits. The Forest awaits. Traemaskeelix awaits. But they will not wait forever. You take a last look at the men with whom you've traveled so far and then step to the portal, wondering if you'll ever see them again....
• Страж задания
  • 47, 17 суша
  • Сообщение: A thick mist clouds the narrow waterway. Hold the Malirite Sword up and the mists will clear! Tendus -- no, Verianus, you remind yourself -- yells. It is the only way we can proceed.
• Страж задания
  • 47, 13 суша
  • Сообщение: An enormous archway sits dark, silent, alone to the north. It is constructed of black, polished obsidian and is decorated around the perimeter with strange runes. This must be the portal to the Forest. Only a wizard of great power can open this gate.
• Разбойник
  • 65, 81 суша
  • Сообщение: An ugly unbathed man wearing a torn cloak and carrying a rusty broadsword jumps out in front of you. So you want to travel our tunnels... that's fine. You've paid your dues. But don't try to be sneaking anyone else in behind ya, or we'll be cuttin' them to pieces. Now, begone, knave!
• Разбойник
  • 66, 81 суша
  • Сообщение: We said only one of you may pass, the rogues hiss. You have deceived us, and shall pay with your lives.....
• Событие
  • 79, 20 суша
  • Сообщение: You emerge from the portal disoriented, unable to breathe. A cavern surrounds you, and in the cavern are hundreds of small creature dwellings, the homes to the creatures who have been raiding you for so long? But something seems so... artificial about them, as if they were placed here for the purpose of growth and raiding....
• Событие
  • 79, 24 суша
  • Сообщение: You pass beneath a small brown gate and find... that you are standing in an exact replica of the cave to the north. What in blazes is going on here? Houses, mines, common structures, they are all in the exact same place!
• Событие
  • 79, 10 суша
  • Сообщение: You pass beneath a small brown gate and find... that you are standing in an exact replica of the cave to the south. What in blazes is going on here? Houses, mines, common structures, they are all in the exact same place!
• Событие
  • 86, 16 суша
  • Сообщение: This tunnel is perfectly round, as if cut into the rock by magic. A well-worn road leads to the north and south, the tunnel branches equally perfect in shape to the main causeway. Torches are spaced at perfect intervals. This gets stranger and stranger.
• Событие
  • 97, 18 суша
  • Сообщение: The tunnels here are carved in perfect geometrical shapes. Manmade, certainly, but who could make ones so large? Roads go off to the north and south and west, but to tell the truth, you have a mind to go back to the surface. Something feels very unnatural about this place.
• Событие
  • 11, 49 суша
  • Сообщение: You stagger forward, barely able to retain consciousness. Three of your fingers are missing and your leg is a mess of torn flesh. Blood drips from your hand despite the tightly wound gauze. Your sword is twenty feet behind you, dropped because you could not hold the weight. Lady Mead? the voice comes from behind you. You swivel, almost falling over. On the ground in the bushes, lying only a few feet from Madam Timen's upright leg, you see Sir Winfrey Ment. He has no legs and half of his head is caved in. Blood gurgles from his mouth when he speaks. You must rest, my Lady, or your hand will catch inf... infection. Stumbling over, you collapse next to the dying knight. It was his axe that separated Jubbi's head from her body, finally ending the bloody struggle. But not before a hundred of your best men were slain, you remind yourself. You thank the knight and lay a hand on his forehead, but he is already too dead to hear you. Your vision swirls and for a moment you think you will puke. Maybe you do, but you really have no perception beyond the pain in your leg and your missing fingers. Darkness hovers about you like a cloak and you fall over. While lying there, you see a bag full of something... red, maybe? But you lose consciousness before you can reach over and take a closer look. When you wake, you are lying in a small tent. The smell of ginger opens your eyes. A man you do not recognize is bent over you, tending to your leg. Who are you? you ask, but not sound comes from your lips. Captain Mead, the man says, do not speak. You are weak. Here, drink this. He offers you a cup filled with hot ginger-smelling liquid. It will dull the pain. The mention of the word sends spasms forking up your spine and you gasp. You are lucky to have only lost two fingers, he says, And your leg wound is clean and should heal, but you won't be fighting on it for some time. Who are you? you ask again. My name is Thomas Ment, he replies. You know my father, Winfrey... or knew... He turns away. I'm sorry, you reply, squeezing his hand with your good one. He was a fine soldier and good commander. I'm in need of another. How would you like to be a knight? The man simply bows his head. I would serve Eilia with all my heart, he replies. Do not serve Eilia, you tell him. Serve yourself. Eilia is what killed your father. Thomas nods and reaches under your cot. Here, my Lady, he says, handing you the small bag you had seen before losing consciousness. I thought you may be interested in this. What is it, you ask, looking into the bag. All you see is a glowing red darkness, but something smells bitter and unpleasant. Glowenberries, he answers. Madam Timen picked them before she was... you know. They will be most useful. We need to return them immediately to Master Chlorthonis! We shall, Thomas replies, but you shall be carried. If we lose you, all is lost! You smile and are about to protest, but realize that he is right. These men have nothing left but the hope that you will carry them through this. You lay your head back and close your eyes, clenching the back full of vials of Glowenberries to your breast.
• Событие
  • 2, 6 суша
  • Сообщение: DEATH
• Событие
  • 102, 73 суша
  • Сообщение: The torches along the wall are enough to convince you of what you first thought
• Крепость
  • 72, 4 суша
  • Название: Domicile Two
  • Название: brown stuff
  • Сообщение: Abracadabra
  • Название: Gold and such!
• Событие
  • 72, 5 суша
  • Сообщение: A massive building shaped like a giant cube sits in the swamp to the north. The building has been newly made
• Событие
  • 72, 29 суша
  • Сообщение: A massive building shaped like a giant cube sits in the swamp to the north. The building has been newly made
• Указатель
  • 73, 15 суша
  • Сообщение: Test Breed
• Событие
  • 30, 72 суша
  • Сообщение: A shimmering portal stands stark and naked on the icy rock. Something tells you that you had better be prepared for a nasty fight before going through here, as you may not have a way back to collect more troops. If the leader of these creatures lives beyond the portal, you had best make sure you are ready for the end. [Players should make sure they have the Sword of Helfire before proceeding]
• Событие
  • 50, 3 суша
  • Сообщение: You have avoided Mu since your little conversation. The old wounds never cease being painful, you muse. Tendus is up ahead, studying the shoreline. Despite being underground, small waves lap against the dark sand that constitutes the beach. It is time I taught you another spell, Tendus says. One that I do hope you find useful, especially now that our way seems blocked by water. I'm ready to learn, you reply sourly. Ok then, this will enable you to summon a boat at will. Remember, it will summon the {nearest} boat that you own. If you don't own one, it will steal the {nearest} unowned boat. Of course, if you are powerful enough in the ways of magic, you can create one out of thin air... After an hour lesson and several failed attempts (the bay is low littered with pieces of boat), you have learned the spell. We should sail south as soon as we can, Tendus says gravely, the portal to the Forest is on an island in this lake. Also, here, he hands you a small piece of paper with a few runes burned into it. I have recently remembered this little spell of water. You can use it to protect your army in emergencies. You thank the wizard and tuck the paper away, promising yourself to practice when nobody else is around.
• Событие
  • 49, 2 суша
  • Сообщение: You descend from above and find yourself in a beautiful underground cavern. An enormous lake fills most of it. Natural light reflects off the rippling waters, putting flickering patters of reflected light all over the high ceiling. Oooh, good enough to swim in! Duk laughs. I like swim. Goblins good swim! Yeah, I'm sure they are Duk, but let's not go swimming just yet, ok? you say, not able to help laughing yourself. I'd hate to send Gug out there after you. Gug scowls at the mere mention of the word swim and gives Duk a 'If I have to come in there after you you had better drown because you aren't going to like it when I drag you back to shore' look. Duk lets loose a nervous chuckle at that. Tendus seems to take the sight of fresh water well. If the water here is fresh, perhaps Traemask's poisoning isn't as far along as I had thought.. he muses, cupping a little bit in his hand and drinking it down. You notice that Mu Mol, the Ogre Prince, simply stands at the edge of the lapping waters and looks forlornly out into the distance. It reminds you of the way a fisherman's wife might look while staring out to sea, looking for her husband's ship after a bad storm. You come up behind the big fellow and put an arm on his muscular shoulder. He does not seem to notice. Do not worry, Mu, you say. We will find her, and when we do, it will be a glorious wedding. Just wait and see! Mu just grunts, but then turns to you. His eyes are wet and misty. It's just that... I love her so much and... we had hardly had a peaceful moment together because of my father. And now she's gone. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever see her again. I shudder to think of what those monstrous creatures have done with my poor Rigga... The boy breaks down into a steady sob. You try to comfort the young prince as well as you can, but sometimes the best consolatory words are none at all. Eventually, the sobs turn to sniffles, and Mu wipes his nose. He looks at you and forces a smile. Guess it must look pretty silly, he says, choking on his own tears, a big oaf like me bawling like an infant. Not silly at all, you say earnestly. A good friend of mine was a minstrel. Played in the biggest taverns in Eilia and once even for a king's wedding. Name was Jon Maegelinov, but we just called him Jon of Lennon, because it was easier to say and because he was from a little town called Lennon. Anyway, one time I was all upset because my love was far away on a ship and I was afraid I'd never see her again. Jon sung me a song and then said to me, 'All you need is love.' It sounds a bit of a cliche, but in many ways it's true my friend. Love is a powerful thing... if yours is true, it will find a way to bring you together. Mu smiles and then gives you an awkward hug. Thanks, my friend Sedran, he says. One day when I am king I will give you a Lordship of your own! You laugh and pat him on the back. Thanks, but right now I just want a nice hot bath. You get up and begin walking toward Tendus to see about the state of your little army, when Mu calls to you and says, Did you ever see your love again? he asks you. Yes, I did, you reply. Not more than a week later her ship returned. We got married soon after. Ah, and now she is probably hearing the same song that you did, huh? Mu says with a happy smile. Unfortunately, all you can give him is a sad frown. No, she's dead, is all you can reply, biting back your own tears. Died giving birth to my son. Oh, Mu replies, I'm sorry. I didn't know you had a son. I don't. He died being born. You walk away, depressed.