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[News] Siege invades Sonoma: First Strike

G

Guest

Guest
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t would be impossible to outdo the introduction that Hoffs gave when Story Night's road trip lead us to Sonoma - so I shall not even try. So, I yeild the floor to Hoffs! 

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<font color="#800000"> y name is Hoffs, and I am the Chatelaine, or event coordinator, for the Citizens of Wispwood Shire, a long-established community on Siege Perilous, that has been hosting Story Night for nigh on two years now.
I came to Sosaria last September and spent a couple of weeks in Drachenfels until I learnt about the land of Siege and the challenge it held.

I immediately packed my bags and moved over and was taken in by the wonderful community there.
I am no fighter myself and have been killed more times than I can count by the evil-doers of the shard.
However, it is this sense of danger that keeps me interested as well as the many friends I have made there and the society to which I belong.
Since coming to Siege, I have not been anywhere else, so it is a pleasure to be here in Sonoma and experience a new land.
My sincere thanks goes to Dor for arranging today's event and the use of this wonderful venue.
We have decided to take Story Night 'on the road' to bring our stories to a new audience and, I sincerely hope, to hear some tales from the people of this land.

The format is quite simple. Anyone can step up to tell a story, poem, riddle or joke.
As soon as a speaker has finished, another can take the stage.
We will continue until everyone who wishes to speak has done so.
However, please feel free to come and go as you see fit.
Finally, the door of Story Night is always open.
We would be happy to see you at our regular time and place on a Tuesday.
Please see the Siege event calender for full details.
And, if the land of Siege has any interest for you, my colleagues and I will be more than happy to answer your questions.</font> </td> </tr> </table>
Thank you Hoffs!
I am far too modest to include her introduction of me here, *cheeks redden* a work of art though it is, but I do thank her for her kind words.
So, on with the weekly story column!

<table border="1" width="100%"> <tr> <td align="middle" width="220">
</td> <td align="middle"> <font size="5">Welcome to Siege
</font>by 
Blind Otto
  </td> <td width="220" height="150">
</td> </tr> </table>
<table border="1" width="100%"> <tr> <td>
 man burst into the small room, and slammed the door behind him.
Gulping down air as if it were water, he held up his hand to stop those whom he had interrupted.
He wore a fine robe, embroidered with strange sigils, under which a tunic of fine gold chain mail could be seen,
and the strange, purple gloves on his hands almost matched the hue of the robe.
Garish green leggings, also apparently made of chain, could be glimpsed as he paced nervously in front of the door, before seizing a chair, and ramming it against the door.

He wore a brightly coloured quiver, void of arrows, though there was no bow to be seen about his person.
His hand grasped the hilt of a strange, glowing blade, as his frightened eyes glared threateningly at the occupants of the room.
"Back he gasped Stay back "
"Ye shall have no need of that." the small, elegantly dressed lady in the centre of the room said as she rose from her seat.
She had been working on some wooden items, it seemed, for the floor about her was strewn with shavings of various hues,
and the fresh smell of oak sap filled the air.

"They cannot come in unless I allow them in. Such is the nature of that door. "

The mans eyes darted from her to the door and back again, distrustful.

"This is my home. While a public place, the doors are enchanted, and obey me." she said, reassuringly.
The mans hand fell from the hilt of his sword, as he too, fell, exhausted, to his knees.

"This land he gasped This land is insane! They.. they.. they wear plain armour! They carry no artifacts! They have... have... " he trailed off, his eyes widened, as he tried to understand what had happened to him.
"I saw - I did, with my own eyes, see it - they slew my friend and.. and.. and.. they LOOTED him! Took everything he owned! How??? Such things are unheard of!!! HOW?!? "

The lady looked at him, puzzled.
"Why, sir, whatever do ye mean, unheard of? Such is commonplace. Always has been."
She passed him a pitcher of ale with a smile. "This should calm thy nerves - drink it. Its good Wintermoor brew, that is. "

"Wintermoor?" he asked "What is that? We're just outside Britain, near the graveyard!"

"All in good time. Ye are new here, in these lands?"

"Yes, yes, I am. There was was a bug. Everyone was talking of it, but no one was brave enough to try.
They might have banned us, if we took advantage of it. But the tokens. They said we could TRANSFER to Siege. "

"Sir, ye speak words I do not understand. Bug? I have a friendly beetle who helps me transport things.
She is not to be feared, believe me. Now. Who are they, and what ban would they place on ye?
Tokens? Transfer? I do not understand. "

The man looked around, his expression like a trapped animal about to be stripped of its pelt, only a small gurgle
coming from his lips.

"There, there. Do not fear. If ye are new here, there are those who will help ye. Ye have nothing to worry about,
so long as ye stick to the rules. Now, tell me of those outside. Why do they pursue ye so?"
She glanced out the window, and her eyes widened with amazement.
"Why do THEY pursue ye so? They are usually peaceful folk!"

He put his head between his knees, and shook with fear.

"We arrived. My friend and I. We had all our gear - theres more in the bank. We went out to fight.
It was easy... those idiots were only wearing leather, and using junk weapons. We won, and won, and won.
Easy. Then we found this town. There were no shops there, just houses. We got mad. Some people came out, and we killed them. Then my friend turned red. But.. but.. they killed him. And and they took everything from him. His hat of the Magi.
His inquisitors. His AoF. Everything. Then they came after me. But I ran. I ran to the gate, and ran to Brit.
I... found these guys training. All of them, the same guild, noob... or new... or something. I killed them all. Then more came.
The ones outside. I cant fight off 50 people at once! Its not fair! And whats wrong with my insurance??"

The lady turned from the window, reading a message she'd just unfurled from the leg of
a small, white pigeon that had landed on her window ledge, and walked quietly to her workbench.
Taking a strange pile of cogs and gears, and a few ingots, she swiftly and silently assembled something.
He would have needed to rise from where he sat to see what - the workbench was too high.

"So. Ye massacred Iantown.
Ye carved a swath through the Shire.
Ye slaughtered the young uns of NEW.
And ye have the nerve to sit on my floor claiming that what befell ye and thy friend is not fair?"

"I..I..." he stammered, trying to find his feet.

"I have but two words for ye, afore ye meet my lovely golem here. Words of Justice."
The mechanical giant rose from the table, and grasped the man by the neck.
"SOL INVICTUS" yelled the lady, as it smashed him to the floor.
She strode to the door, and removing the chair, flung the door open.
The golem hurled him outside, to the waiting mob.

"When ye're done paying for thy sins, sir, look me up.
Theres a right way and a wrong way to get started on Siege, and your way doesnt look too bright to me.
Of course, if yeve the stones to stick around after that lot're done with ye, ye'll probably do well here. Very well indeed."

Chuckling to herself, the lady Miranda returned to her workbench, and beckoned to one of her helpers.
"Run up the road to Lady Shalimar, will ye? Let her know theres a very battered and bruised newcomer
pushing up daisies outside my house, who will probably want to join her guild.
Warn her, though, that this ones going to take a lot of teaching!"

Stepping outside again, she accepted the bag that an elderly man, accompanied by a tame sheep, offered her.
"My thanks, mayor. Ill hold this in trust for him until hes earned them again. After all, he is new here - we're all allowed a mistake now and then!"

"That we are." he replied. "Still," he said, turning to the weeping ghost of the man,
as it gazed forlornly at the naked corpse on the ground nearby,
"Yeve probably had the best welcome any received in many a moon.
Welcome to Siege!"

Miranda smiled, and went to put the backpack full of strange artifacts safely in a cupboard. She'd return them -
but not until their owner was ready.

After all, this was a truly perilous land.

"Pwnd by a crafter, lad?" She murmered "Oh, ye've much to learn!"

And the mob went about their day, waiting to see if the man would choose to stay, ready to welcome him into the community...

the strange, harsh, community...

of Siege.
</td> </tr> </table>
Never underestimate a crafter! Or a large warrior with an even larger axe...

<table border="1" width="100%"> <tr> <td align="middle"> <font size="5">The Battle Hardened Warrior</font>
by
Daan Mor
</td> <td width="220" height="150">
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<table border="1" width="100%"> <tr> <td>
he battle hardened warrior,
falls off his weary mount,
looks at the dead around him,
too numerous to count.

He thinks of the wives and mothers,
of all the men hes slain,
but after all this time his heart,
is too hard to feel their pain.

He sees a glow in the distance,
some sweet voice calls his name,
he wants to go but if he does,
naught will ever be the same.

He calls out to survivors,
"Come allies, follow me!"
and cannot seem to understand,
why him they cannot see.

He looks in dismay at his arms,
and only one thing can be said,
his body is no longer there,
"Alas I think I'm dead!"
</td> </tr> </table>
Even the orcs are creative on Siege! Here's one of the finer examples... take that however you like it!
Translation provided free of charge - although I should point out that you get what you pay for!

<table border="1" width="100%"> <tr> <td align="middle" width="123">
</td> <td align="middle"> <font size="5">Anudder Bubhosh Uruk Sturi</font>
<font size="4">(Another Great Orc Story)</font>
by
Mo'gluk
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kee
meeb hav anudder sturi abut a bubhosh uruk

dis skribble iz abut da bubhosh uruk lugtar
hiz was lugtar da smaart and him hab hut in da east
and him hab many gruntees dat did hiz kleanin
and him hab gobbos (goblins)
welp lugtar had dis ash gobbo dat him likee bery much

da gobbos name waz grabnuts
lat name gobbos fer wut dems do
dems nub get uruk name

well lugtar likee grabnutz fer some reason
who gurks
but him want tu make a da bubhosh gobbo eber

so lugtar get an idea
meeb makee suber gobbo
tu do kleanin and cuukin

su him azk him odder uruks fer guud gobbo breedur
but odder uruks nub hab ani gobbo breedurs
dis makee lugtar very sad
su him tink
him tink long time
after mani moons
him hav bubhosh idea
wut beddur den gobbo helper .....
a Panzee kleaner

su lugtar luuk long and far fer a panzee breedur
himz find a bubhosh breedur outside zento
and him klomp her agh take her bak tu hiz hut.....
and him put her in box wit his bubhosh gobbo Grabnutz

and avter mur moons dat panzee breedur wuz breedin new gobbos
but dez new gobbos wer da bubhosh
su lugtar take one ov dis new gobbos and keep him fer hiz own and named him Daanmur
son ov grabnutz

har har dat bubhosh sturi !bah meeb furgot most uv sturi su meeb makee up da end </td> <td valign="top">
kay,
I have another story about a great orc.

This tale is about the great orc Lugtar.
He was known as Lugtar the Smart, and he had a home in the east, and many lesser orcs who did his cleaning.
He also had goblins.
Logtar had one goblin that he liked very much.

The goblin's name was Grabnutz.
You name goblins for what they do.
They don't get orcish names.

Well, Lugtar liked Grabnutz for some reason
- who knows -
but he wanted to make the best goblin ever.

So Lugtar had an idea.
"I'll make a Super Goblin
to do the cleaning and cooking!"


So, he asked the other orcs for a good goblin mate,
but the other orcs didn't have any goblin mates.
This made Lugtar very sad.
So he thought.
He thought for a long time.
After many moons,
he had a great idea!
"What's better than a goblin helper....
An elf cleaner!"

So, Lugtar looked far and wide for an elvish mate.
He found a good one outside Zento, and knocked her out, and took her back to his hut,
and put her in a box with his great goblin Grabnutz.


And after more moons the elf was breeding new goblins.
But, these new goblins were very good,
so Lugtar took one of the new goblins, and kept him for his own,
and named him Daan Mor,
Son of Grabnutz

Ha! That was a good story, but, I forgot most of it, so I made up the end! </td> </tr> </table>
Ahem. Yes. Well. NEXT!!! Or not, considering that Spyderbite had, by all accounts, shaved his legs, and shoved two bagballs down his shirt...  tis enough to make me glad I'm blind!

<table border="1" width="100%"> <tr> <td align="middle"> <font size="5">Spyderbite</font>
by
Spyder
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</td> </tr> </table>
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nce again, this is from Mandolin's memoirs.
I read this tonight, because it is my own story.
In the tradition of Gil's best tales.. I tell my story
through Mando's words.
In his own words, he writes:
You see, he and I were sitting in Kelmo's tavern
the other night, putting back some ales when
he noticed the dark look on his face.
"Why the scowl? Is all that black you wear finally
effecting your mood as well?", I snickered.
He looked back at me and sighed, completely out
of character for the Spyder we all know.

"Forgive me my little friend, I fear I am dampening
our evening", he replied with a hint of a smile.
In an effort to change the subject quickly, I said,
"Tell me more about you, for example how did you
come to call yourself SpyderBite?".
With a chuckle he laid a hand on my shoulder,
"It is not a happy tale, Mando. Not like your jovial
yarns. But, I shall tell you of it none the less".
He took a deep draw on his ale and began his story.

"I was only 8 years of age at the time. My family
lived out side of Vesper along the shoreline.
My brother and I were chasing wisps in the woods one
Spring afternoon while our father was out fishing."
"My brother, called Tobin, had hidden rather well
and I was having a difficult time tracking him down.
Deeper and deeper, I ventured in to the woods.
I heard the heavy footsteps of an ogre, and hurridly
headed back the direction I had come when suddenly
the earth vanished beneath me and I fell."

"During my descent I struck my head and do not recall
landing on the surface below me. When I awoke, my head
swam and my vision was blurred. I could only hear
the odd squeaks and clicks of something moving about
a short distance away. My sight began to return to
me and I was instantly wrought with fear at what
stood over me."

"A spider the size of a llama worked its fangs viciously,
dripping venom upon the floor of the cavern. I scrambled
backwards to escape the beast until my back was against
the wall. Behind the monster, I saw others of its like
gathering, hungrily stepping over each other to get to
me. They swarmed on me all at once and the first painful
bite in my side was enough to send me into darkness."
"Pain wracked my body when I once again gained conciousness.
I heard voices, but could only make out 'uk v'drin?'.
Another one in the room said 'rivvil waelin'.
Cold hands touched my forhead, words of power were spoken
and the pain began to fade. 'uk orn dro?' spoke the first.
'Siyo uk zhah orbb tril' replied the second. Both were women
I could discern. The first much older than the second."

"'Where am I?' I struggled to ask.
'You are safe young boy', said the younger one in a thick
dialect that was alien to me, 'the venom of so many spiders
should have killed you'."
"'Mri'Kulssin, take him to your family's home. There he shall
be cared for'. They spoke in my own tongue for my benefit I
could only assume.
'But, what about my family? Can't you take me to them?', I was
beginning to panic and the pain was returning to my bones.

'Young one, you have fallen too far to return in your state',
said the elder woman, 'we sent scouts to determine if there
were more of you rivven about', her features were beginning
to become clearer in the low lit room. Dark skin and stark
white hair surrounded the ancient, yet still beautiful face,
'The scouts were confronted by several shinduago xellased,
or surface dwellers I mean', she sighed and laid a hand on
my forhead again, 'none of your kin survived'."
"The younger of the two stepped into the candlelight. She
was beautiful in her own way, 'I am Mri'Kulssin', she said,
'You will stay with my family, Spider Bitten'." She held my
hand as I wept long in to the night.

"I stayed with Mri'Kulssin's family, learning their ways,
their language, their customs. I was tutored in the arts of
poisoning, stealth and a bit of the arcane. Mri'Kulssin oversaw
my upbringing like a watchful sister. She also was very aware
that I was not ilythiiri or Drow as we call them. She watched
me struggle with my desire to walk the surface again. And, when
I was 16 years of age, she took me from the compound and to the
surface."

"'Go little one', she said while packing my horse with supplies,
'Go the one I've named Spyder Bite', she continued in broken
common."
"I rode out of the forest, and towards my home. Half way there,
I turned my mare, realizing I had no family left but for those
who dwelled beneath the surface. I rode hard towards the
well in which I had fallen into 8 years earlier only to find
it sealed beneath a mound of sandstone."

Spyder stared into his ale as if it weren't there, as I tried
to absorb the story I'd just heard. We trudged off to his home,
leaning on each other for support as the ale was heavy in our
heads. When I dropped him on to his bed, he spoke, almost
inaudiblely.. 'Mri'Kulssin, I am Elg'Cahl'. </td> </tr> </table>
So there ye have it - a confession.
Spyder fell and landed on his head. This explains much, indeed!
Someone get that man...um...woman..um..whatever -  a bandage!
(Spyder, I DO worry about you! That's no place to store bagballs!)

This next chap tried to lure me into a trap which involved standing in a corner staring at a wall. However, I foiled his ploy by taking the wall with me! It fitted into my spellbook quite nicely, between pages 3 and 4. So, he treated us to an entry from something some of the locals referred to as a 'blog' instead.
</td> </tr> </table>
<table border="1" width="100%"> <tr> <td align="middle" width="120">
</td> <td align="middle"> <font size="5">Episode Thirty-Two: Doom Daze
</font> by
Maddwg

Raconteur of Sonoma
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</td> </tr> </table>
<table border="1" width="100%"> <tr> <td>
feed DragonSnack and gear up. What to do?
I get an Idea. I'll go goof off in Doom.
BRILLIANT!

So, off to Umbra we go. Some reapers annoy us as we ride east.
Other than that, we find the entrance and get inside safely.
A few Vampire Bats and Patchwork Skeletons greet us.
I dispatch the bats and the first Patchwork Skeleton easily.
The Patchwork Skeleton dismounts me so I jump back on DS.
As I engage the second Patchwork Skeleton another Vampire Bat approached.
This skelton dismounted me too. Only this time DS attacks the Vampire Bat!
Before I can say "ACK!" the Vampire Bat is dead.

Dragon Snack goes watches me finish off the skeleton.
We ride around checking out the different creatures.
I spy a long hall way and decide to lure a Devourer of Souls into it.
That way I can fight it without getting overwhelmed.
As I check it out, I see Tru-Arrow fighting some creatures.
I decided I could fight the Devourer east of Tru-Arrow.

I raced down and lured up a Devourer of Souls.
I smacked him good! He smacked back. I raced west and healed.
That quickly becmae my routine and it worked.
I was on my third Devourer when I misjudged when to run.
I raced West and my body fell just shy of where Tru-Arrow was.
He wasn't there.
I moved further West and met his ghost. Ack!
We raced to get out to a healer, laughing.
We both got rezzed and healed up.
We decided that getting killed at the same time was a bad idea.
We raced back in and recovered our bodies.

I go looking for DragonSnack. I find him within sight of the Devourer.
They are pretending to ignore each other.
However, two vampire bats had come to play.
DragonSnack had killed them.
If he is trying to impress me, it's working.

I remount and finish off the Devourer.
I find another and begin fighting him.
I use my typical 'run away and heal' routine.
Another player, whom shall remain nameless, ran past.
The lich following him stop to play with us.
Now, the fight became tough.
I quickly realized that I was FUBAR.

Thinking fast, I decided to lure the lich further East.
I targeted the lich, smacked him and ran east getting blasted as I ran.
Old man lich followed me. The Devourer followed a little.
I was able to get the lich into another room.
Racing back I encounter a Ravager, a Flesh Golem and a Patchwork Skeleton.
I engage then concentrating on the Ravager.
The Flesh Golem hits me causing substantial blood loss.
I try to fall back nad the Patchwork Skeleton dismounts me.
I apply bandages as DragonSanck attacks the Ravager.
Apprently, DS ate his Wheaties today!
Bith DS and I are injured bad but we win the fight!

I give DS an apple.

I raced back west and was just starting to pound on the Devourer
when Unnamed races by and brings me two liches.
Gosh, and I didn't get him anything! Aww, how sweet.

Now it is serious fall back and break off the fight time.
The Devourer and one lich follow me west.
I run into Tru-Arrow who is engaged in a fight with several undead.
We combine forces and attempt to stay alive.
We end up fighting the Devourer, a lich, a rotting corpse,
a mummy and a wiling banshee. The fight was close.
Several times we were poisoned, bleeding and almost dead.
Somehow, we prevailed.

I decided that I had enough for today.
Leaving Tru-Arrow to his fun, I depart.
I get home and feed DS every apple I own.
</td> </tr> </table>
Well done sir! We'll make a raconteur out of ye yet! What? Ye already are? Right! I couldn't see thy badge!
*passes another jug of ale across to Maddwg quickly*

Though, my mind boggles at the thought of a Doom in which players are not at each others throats, and the only means of attack is to lure creatures in a most cowardly way!
Why, in our Doom, it would be a rare thing indeed to find co-operation such as that... but - Siege IS the hard shard. Sometimes, methinks, we do forget that.

Miranda then took the floor, and shared her epic tale of battles past with the good folks of Sonoma!

<table border="1" width="100%"> <tr> <td align="middle" width="300">
</td> <td align="middle"> <font size="5">The Battle of the Boyne</font>
by
Miranda Smurf
</td> <td width="110">
</td> </tr> </table>
<table border="1" width="100%"> <tr> <td>
 Kingly host loom'd upon the stream
A monarch, and his troops camped all around
upon our fair Britania, it's uplands far and wide
dwarfed by his gray palacial pavilion crowned.
Not long ago our sky unclouded showed,
beneath the sparkling sun sol ray,
that a gentle stream of blue silver freely flowed
to meet it's virtuous people, each newborn day.

!! Suddenly Thunder ! Lord British's cannons!! BOOM !
Echoing thunderous, his injustice is shown
Whilst a certained sulphurous cloud doth loom
and moved along, tyranny upon the virtuous twas thrown!
And knight and horse lie in mingled mass
irregardless of all life.
With furious ardor onward the wounded doth pass
to fight this deadly conflict and strife.

Not at all strange, that with such ardant flame
these knights of blue silver, their hearts beat high
their battle word by name was "Mithras "
Their battle cry was for justice liberty, "Sol Invictus" !
Oward they went, onto Ouldebrit, these silver blue clad folowers of Mithras,
amid sounds of thunder and death unwonted rang
all heard and seen the mighty clang.

Their blue silver stream turn'd crimson, wide
and clogged with many a corpse.
Floating down the stream's gentle tide
corpses of knight, citizen, and horse
Now fiercer grows this battle's rage..
yon guarded stream IS crossed.
And hand to hand and blade to blade,fighting, a king whom betrayed us,
hand to hand blade to blade..shouting Sol Invictus !

!!! HE FALLS HE FALLS their knight commander falls !
He whom protected the sacred scrolls in the sacred walls.
Then they, their battle mages and knights of virtue brave,
this persecuted silver serpent band
who foremost rushed amid the hostile wave
for a time gained that hostlile strand of land.
They bleed, mighty Mithras they bleed !!
For them please help them Mithras ye must intercede.

This can not be the end of their virtuous career.
And then that well contested strand o'land
Lord British's successive waves of troops doth gain,
Whilst the Knights of the Silver Serpent died in pain.
Driven back across that blood soaked plain,
Drew their blue silver swords one last time, in vain
And the knights their lives and breath the king, did fling
and they perished' fighting the unjust King.

OH!! What better cause ??
Thy witness is boldly shown
upon the blood soaked ground
that tyranny must be over thrown !
Thy bravest and choicest fell, to unjust cannons sound.
There is no shame, ye abandoned not the fray
Ye fought injustice and tyranny this day.
Labeled now as crimminals by Injustice's laW,
Yet ye fight ye deaths shine as witness to all,

The Truth !
So sing !
Yes sing !
Sing harrah harrah for Liberty, sing harrah !
For freedom's sword must continue to draw
to dare to battle those unjust in power on high
so let ye blue silver banners fly
With grateful hearts, remember to celebrate
Truth Honor and Courage are never out of date.

So sing !sing Harrah harrah for freedom's flame
Even in death, the flame will always be rekindled again
and again and again will be fought to the death, for what is right
can not be killed, tis now and forever in spirit and hearts of men this night !
Something the unjust ones, can never really fathom, nor control
that the will to bring truth and justice burns in every heart and soul,
such a will can nary be killed, for Liberty and Freedom is everyone's birthright !
</td> </tr> </table>
I then followed that rousing retelling of an epic battle, with another ballad for the crowd....

<table border="1" width="100%"> <tr> <td align="middle"> <font size="5">Gazing into the Void</font>
by
Blind Otto
</td> <td width="80">
</td> </tr> </table>
<table border="1" width="100%"> <tr> <td>
he warrior stood at the edge of the world,
and gazed upon the stars below.
Many a battle had he fought of late,
Some vanquished, some brought him low.

But many a moon has passed, he found,
Since he felt the thrill of youth,
The fire in the blood, the risk, the fear,
As he loosened his first foe's tooth.

His foes could no longer be pillaged,
He risked naught save a few strips of cloth,
For when he rode into battle these days,
Strange magics staved off his foes wrath.

He lost nowt, he gained nowt,
Save for a few handfulls of shiny coins,
Which came and went from his bank account,
Magically, and without any noise.

Gone were the days when he could fell a foe,
and send him scurrying in defeat and shame,
For now his foes rose swiftly from death,
and stood ready to be slain again.

No change in weapons, no change in arms,
Alive if they had never been felled,
And so, trapped in this endless dance,
The warrior's heart finally rebelled.

Off into battle he rode uninsured,
Wearing nowt but that from a tailor's hand.
His foes stopped and stared, quite amazed,
Then to cruel laughter, the warrior fell to the ground.

Naked and weaponless, he stood by the healer,
A small smile on the edge of his lip.
This could not, would not work in these lands,
But what if ALL were thusly equipped?

So the warrior came to the edge of the world,
And threw himself into the dark,
For out there, somewhere, was a perilous land,
That knew nothing of the insurer's mark.  </td> </tr> </table>
Crystal gave her reasons for not being hard at her toils. I do hope that her employer does not read these tales, or he will know she was truly at story night! I also hope that Crystal does not notice that I was attempting to raise my skill in evaluating inteligence while recording the tales... oops.

<table border="1" width="100%"> <tr> <td align="middle"> <font size="5">Calling in Sick
</font> by
Crystal
</td> <td width="220" height="150">
</td> </tr> </table>
<table border="1" width="100%"> <tr> <td>
ear sir I write this note to you to tell you of my plight,
For at the time of writing it, I'm not a pretty sight,
My body is all black &amp; blue, my face a deathly grey,
And I write this note to say why I am not at work today.

While working on Lord Garets keep some bricks I had to clear,
But tossing them down from such a height, was not a good idea,
The foreman wasn't very pleased, he is an awkward sod,
and he said I had to cart them down the ladders in me hod.

Well clearing all these bricks by hand, it was so very slow,
So I hoisted up a barrel and secured a rope below.
But in me haste to do the job, I was too blind to see,
That a barrel full of building bricks was heavier than me.

And so when I untied the rope, the barrel fell like lead,
And clinging tightly to the rope, I started up instead.
I shot up like a rocket, and to my dismay I found
That halfway up I met the bloody barrel coming down.

Well, the barrel broke me shoulder as to the ground it sped,
And when I reached the top, I banged the pulley with me head.
But I clung on tightly, numb with shock, from this almighty blow,
While the barrel spilled out half its bricks some fourteen floors below.

Now when these bricks had fallen from the barrel to the floor,
I then outweighed the barrel &amp; so started down once more.
But I clung on tightly to the rope, me body wracked with pain,
And halfway down I met the bloody barrel once again.

The force of this collision halfway down the castle block,
Caused multiple abrasions and a nasty case of shock,
But I clung on tightly to the rope as I fell towards the ground,
And I landed on the broken bricks the barrel had scattered round.

Well as I lay there on the floor I thought I'd passed the worst,
But the barrel hit the pulley wheel &amp; then the bottom burst.
A shower of bricks rained down on me; I didn't have a hope.
As I lay there bleeding on the ground I LET GO the bloody rope!

The barrel now being heavier, it started down once more.
It landed right across me as I lay there on the floor.
It broke three ribs and my left arm, and I can only say,
"I hope you'll understand why I am not at work today." </td> </tr> </table>
Ouch. Well, here's a tale of two who would probably sympathise with that poor soul...

<table border="1" width="100%"> <tr> <td align="middle" width="100">
</td> <td align="middle"> <font size="5">You're hired!  Wait before I take this job can you?</font>
by
Kimi Mori
</td> <td width="150">
</td> </tr> </table>
<table border="1" width="100%"> <tr> <td>
heresa was at the bank one day, when a indivdual spoke to her,
asking if she was a T-hunter.
Turning to see who spoke she notices that he seems to be a well groomed male warrior in very shining armor.
Thinking he must polish that everynight she replys,
"yes I am. My standard contact is I get 50% of the gold from the chest,
you kill off the spawn and loot the dead monsters."

Well he ask her how high her skills are, and she replys,
"I am a master lock picker and can also read to level 4 maps."
Well he hands her a map and ask if she can read this,
seeing its a cleverly drawn she smiles and says,
"yes I can.Are you prepare to pay my price for me to dig it up?"

Well he quickly agrees to her price and she look at the map with more detail
till she is sure of its location.
"Alright", she replys, "I know where its is - are you ready sir?"
she ask this warrior.
He replys that he is waiting for one other to join them, she smiles,
thinking well there be at least two for the monsters to bite on.
Soon his friend arrives, a Mage..

Well they quickly party up, and with a waves of hands,
Theresa cast a gate spell to a location close to the chest.
Using her sexton, she points the direction they to travel and they off.
She notes that the warrior/mage are able to kill off the lower
monsters in the area.
All well and good, for they need to be able to kill off the spawn at
the chest as well.

At the chest site she quickly notes its location with her sexton
and turns to her employors, "ready?", she ask.
The warrior quickly hides while the mage cast invisable on himself.
With a smiles she turns and begins to dig
till she see the top of the chest,
and just as the Guardians of the chest spawn she hides as well.
Then in party she states, "ok I dug it up, you go kill the spawn".

Well nothing happens, for the longest time,
she is hiding with 2 orge lords, one Lich lord and a elder grazer
sitting on top of her, and still nothing happens.

In party again she ask,
"Gentlemen that your que to destory the monsters",
and she hear an answer from the mage,
"You did not tell me that this was a level 4 my friend".
Where as the warrior says,
"Hell I did not know that what we had to fight".

The mage's spell wear off and he because visble so a
merry chase is started as all the monsters chase after him.
His screams of "help" can be heard for miles
as the Orge Lords bear down on him.

In party Theresa states,
"Look I told you, you to kill off the spawn.
I do not fight unless I have to and if I have to
its going to cost more."  "how much?"  she hears,
her reply "I get all the gold from the first spawn
and all the gold from the chest".

Well the warrior is not happy with this, and does not agree,
but the mage says
"damit you better accept her ofter of help or I am out of here."
So the Warrior agrees to her new prices,
so casting Summon Deamon she orders it to
attack the Elder Grazer,
as the summon does she rushes in and with a bare hand attack freezes
the elder grazer in it place.
In seconds it drops and she turns the summon on to the Lich Lord.
Again as before she rushes in and bare hand attack freeze it as well.  Then with a wave of hand
and cast an engery vortex to finish it.
Just about this time the mage runs thru
with the two Orge Lords hard on his tail,
her EV turns on one of them and she cast a second on the
[note this was when you could cast 5 EV]
other Orge, then cast a third at the first,
rushes the 2nd and again with her bare hand
freeze the monster in it tracks.
Well after seeing this the warrior finally makes his appearance
and attacks the first Orge.
The mage now is also able to join the fight and
cast another EV as well.
Well in no time the spawn is dead.
As soon as the last one drops she walks over, loots them all,
then turns to the chest unlocks with her picks steps back
opens it with a spell, remove the 4k of gold and then sends all the gold to her bank box.

"Alright I did my part and I have my pay.
I loot the chest for you, or you may do it yourself if you so wish".
Well the warrior grumble about the pay and states,
"No we loot it we thank you for you ofter
but we have no need for your help".

With a smiles she nods and casting recall leaves.
A short time later still in party with them she hears
[Warrior; "I was killed by Orge Lord"]  and
from the [mage, "damit you had to piss her off"].

*blows a kiss*
  </td> </tr> </table>
Ha! We're all new once... some of us, many times over, as those of us visiting Sonoma were keenly aware!

Lastly, as the orc would put it, a 'tribuuut'. But to whom? By whom? Hmm...

(and, more worryingly, will I find myself in the midst of a lava pool next time I log in, for printing this....?)

<table width="100%" border="1"> <tr> <td align="middle"><font size="5">Let it be</font>
(Not)
by
The Beatles
</td> <td width="80">
</td></tr></table>
<table width="100%" border="1"> <tr> <td>
hen we find ourselves in times of trouble
We page and a GM comes to see,
We speak to him all hopefully, let it be
And as we lose our precious arties,
He is standing right in front of me
handing out useless platitudes, let it be

Let it be, let it be
Let it be, let it be
Such wise words flow from GMs, let it be

And when the broken code of UO
bringeth problems unto me,
There's the pre-recorded answer, let it be
And yea, tho we may not be partied
I cling to the slim chance that he will see
But he jailed me on a whim, so let it be

Let it be, let it be
Let it be, let it be
Lurking here in my jail cell, let it be
Let it be, let it be
Let it be, let it be

I can hear a party in Green Acres, let it be
Let it be, let it be
Ah let it be, yeah let it be
refer them all to Stratics, let it be

And when my account is haxxored,
They conspire to further frustrate me,
Page again tomorrow, let it be

I wake up to find my underwear is missing,
The GM's message comes to me
"We cannot help with that, let it be"
Yeah let it be, let it be
Let it be, yeah let it be

Oh it's getting mighty draughty, but let it be
Let it be, let it be
Let it be, yeah let it be

They'll banzor me for streaking, but let it be
Let it be, let it be
Ah let it be, yeah let it be
They're a lot stronger than us, so let 'em be </td></tr></table>
We love our GMs. Really. They're great. You couldn't hope to meet nicer, more helpful people anywhere!
(Okay, okay, NOW will you let me out of this dragon's nest??? Please???)

<table height="156" width="383" align="center" border="1"> <tr> <td width="383" height="156">
</td></tr></table></td>
<table width="100%" border="0"> <tr> <td width="150" height="220">
</td> <td>That was the last tale of the eve, (apart from Keak da Sneak announcing that he lives for UO - more an advertisment than a tale, really), but Melody Trucido was kind enough to help me gain a little skill in wrestling and magic resist, while several other members of a rather familiar sounding guild danced around handing out free death robes to all we newly arrived folks!
It really made it feel like home away from home!

So, to the members of Waka (Sonoma), drop by Siege any time you want a rematch!
To the members of Waka (Siege), you may want to look into these folks. Imitation may be the sincerest form of flattery, but there are limits. Especially when you start hearing things like 'Shrek is attacking you'...

I did try to take the fight to them, as I was feeling a little cramped inside that tower, but given that my magery was still so low that magic arrows were fizzling, I don't think I did much damage. Still, it's the thought that counts, or so they tell me! A magic arrow against an all-artifact suit... I'm amazed there weren't dead Wakans everywhere - from laughing!

All told, a good night, a good fight, and a good turnout! Thanks to all who came along, and special thanks to Dor for arranging the venue, and providing so much help! (not to mention replacing my armor after my VERY short-lived attack on Waka!) 
Thanks also to Hoffs - a wonderful job!

Next week, we're back in the Shire to catch our breath!

(Of course, anyone who WANTED to could take the Sonoma Waka attack as a declaration of war... I leave that in the hands of anyone who wants it! Or, simply...let it be!)
</td></tr></table>
<table width="440" align="center" border="0"> <tr> <td width="440">
</td></tr></table>
 
G

Ginsu-SP

Guest
Looks like a great time was had by all, and that Siege was represented very well.

Good job everyone.

Cheers!
 
M

Mandolin

Guest
<blockquote><hr>

Someone get that man...um...woman..um..whatever - a bandage!

[/ QUOTE ]

Look for the upcoming release of "Treasure Hunters Gone Wild" on DVD at a video store near you!!


Good show.. hope a few Sonoma residents give Siege a visit as a result of last night's fun!
 
D

Dor of Sonoma

Guest
That was huge fun!

Of course, I didn't die (which made it a rare and special occasion for me so I may be just a wee bit biased), but still it was a great treat to see everyone there and enjoying themselves. *grins*

The night ended up offering something for everyone in attendance apparently, as not a single complaint was heard to be uttered...not even from the several sleepy ghosts at the end. Kudos to everyone who participated, but most particularly to those Siege players who made the extra effort to represent the shard in such a good-humored manner. It was quite well done, on everyone's part - but mainly it was great FUN.

You may read some thoughts from the other side of the fence HERE :)
 
G

Guest

Guest
"Well done sir! We'll make a raconteur out of ye yet! What? Ye already are? Right! I couldn't see thy badge!"

If you were just any old blind man I would just let this slide. However as a fellow raconteur, I must point out that we don't carry badges. Someone just gave you a Vote For Nixon badge.

I also tried to remove that 'Kick the Blind Man' piece of paper taped to your back but was too late. Sorry

I'll have to come to Seige and have one of those raconteur battles. You know, Insults At 10 Paces or Most Death Robes in an Hour event. We could do Battle of the Songs, but those can last hours. Good times!
 
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