1
I think it's because of the update, but I cannot see my messages anymore. I sent one just before the turn change, now I think I just missed it... 
Show Posts
This section allows you to view all posts made by this member. Note that you can only see posts made in areas you currently have access to.
Pages: [1] 2
2
BM General Discussion / Epic!
« on: March 21, 2018, 08:47:49 PM »
When I put lyrics on my RPs and it feels like this:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OLGTmqZz2eE
Or like an Indian Movie...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OLGTmqZz2eE
Or like an Indian Movie...
3
Roleplaying / Maelström - Arthion Eyolf Serpentis
« on: February 02, 2018, 02:07:12 PM »
With Hrafn, Ehrendill and now Arthion, I really need to start something with Rugina. Follow here the story of a young Priest in search of his own faith and religion -- yes, a regional religion... if it grows up one day, great, otherwise BM will not die because of yet another useless religion.
Enjoy.
Enjoy.
4
Helpline / Changing a religion name
« on: January 29, 2018, 05:33:39 PM »Quote
A New Prophet (4 hours, 25 minutes ago)
message to all nobles of Sirion
Count Cymak Fireborn has founded a new religion called "Holy Sacred Groove" and become its first prophet, devoting his life to religion from now on. He has stepped down from all positions.
See... for more I'm fond to a bunch of elves smoking pot in the woods while listening Gangsta Paradise, I believe the other players will want something more... conservative. There's a way for the devs to correct the "GrOove"?
Yo... i mean... Yours,
5
Roleplaying / Serpentis Resurgence - Ehrendill Eyolf Serpentis
« on: January 15, 2018, 10:48:00 AM »
The Day of Divinity
Awake.
Shake dreams from your hair
My pretty child, my sweet one.
Choose the day and choose the sign of your day
The day's divinity
Choose they croon the Ancient Ones
The time has come again
***
***
***
Ehrendill climbed on a rock and looked at the old motte and bailey where once the towering Dragon's Nest spread its wings over Trinbar. How in such a short time had everything been lost? Trinbar, Dolmbar, the Sacred Grove and finally even the Republican spirit. Sirion's history was there for anyone who wanted to see, but now it looked like something artificial, lost in time, just odes to forgotten heroes. Where were the real Sirionites and their heirs? Why had they abandoned their legacy? Why did they stand still while Nivemus took command of the north? Why had they stayed behind? How did they almost lose everything to their guests after offer them a banquet?
The young dragon looked the other way where the raven was being "escorted" by two Stormwalkers. His mission now was to restore the family and mend the mess the bastards had caused while a heir of pure blood was prepared. And who could have the blood more pure than Ehrendill, son of Erik and Serria, grandson of Rugina. His was the mission of restoring the Sirionites values for which his ancestors fought. He jumped from the stone and walked to the traitor. His eyes were placid and there was no anger in his countenance. No grudge, but also no mercy. The metallic fingers of his gauntlet caressed the human skin on his face.
Ehrendill Eyolf: “You betrayed me, brother. Your mission was to prepare the way; instead you tried to usurp what belongs to me: my name and my legacy. You should know that when the Black Dragon spared the Thousand Bastards. In the meantime you found a Princess and dared to dream of greatnesses reserved only for the true Serpentis. You probably didn’t like to see another Serpentis in Sirion, am I right? Sir Hector have only a portion of our blood, more than you, less than I do. Then you flew like a frightened crow and in your flight you distracted yourself with something bright in Highmarch. They're so much better than Sirion these days, aren’t they?â€
He smiled and kissed the traitor's forehead as his hand slid into his pocket, picking up the relic that so many bastards longed for, Erik’s left eye.
Ehrendill Eyolf: “It’s my time now, fallen brother. From now on, I’m your Alfather. Just as I am son of his daughter, you’re now my children under my wings. If at least one thing you did right, we're going to visit your Princess. Despite what you tried to do for her, despite your false sacrifices for Sirion and your cries of rebellion... she did the right thing while you went the wrong way. We, the Serpentis, owe it to her. Poor boy, I wonder how much you fell in love with her. Good friends you still can be. Lovers, maybe. Slave, if so she chooses. Your future belongs to her. You're in her hands as you've always been, but now I'll make sure you do not break your vows.â€
The young elf closed his eyes and saw in the darkness the pattern of the flames casting their red dancing lights. An open field burned, the hounds barking and the Gormok's Hunters imprisoning, confiscating, choking the taunts of rebellion. Like the Flockhart and Fleisher, one day they were there, in the other they were just another page turned into Sirion's annals. He opened his eyes and graciously ordered the men to march to Sirion. His journey was just beginning.
Awake.
Shake dreams from your hair
My pretty child, my sweet one.
Choose the day and choose the sign of your day
The day's divinity
Choose they croon the Ancient Ones
The time has come again
***
Quote
From the Avamarian diaries
Tomas: Have you found a name for her, my Lady?
Rugina smiles and Nods, the ideas screening in her mind.
Rugina: My child... you will be remembered as one in Sirion... and you will have the name of one of my favorite Holy matrons.
Yur will be called Serria Sirion Blakeshadow, my little one."
***
Quote
From New Westmoor Archives
Duke Erik Eyolf after just building the largest temple in the north for some dirty pagan religion is holding an extravagant wedding celebration to consummate the love between himself and his daughter Serria.
The wedding festivities which began yesterday are said to be very extravagant. Now of course most of the representatives of the southern realms will not be able to be present due to the war between Caligus, Sirion and the human alliance. Duke Erik has therefore undertaken to take criminals out of the jails of Avamar for the day and dress them up to look like nobles of the southern realms who weren't able to be present. The vast temple is considered to be a wedding gift to his new bride. Many congratulations were given from members of many different realms in the ECDA. According to some traders who were recently in Sirion city the smell of Ikrif could be recognized quite noticeably in the air even though the city of Avamar was several hundred miles away.
***
Ehrendill climbed on a rock and looked at the old motte and bailey where once the towering Dragon's Nest spread its wings over Trinbar. How in such a short time had everything been lost? Trinbar, Dolmbar, the Sacred Grove and finally even the Republican spirit. Sirion's history was there for anyone who wanted to see, but now it looked like something artificial, lost in time, just odes to forgotten heroes. Where were the real Sirionites and their heirs? Why had they abandoned their legacy? Why did they stand still while Nivemus took command of the north? Why had they stayed behind? How did they almost lose everything to their guests after offer them a banquet?
The young dragon looked the other way where the raven was being "escorted" by two Stormwalkers. His mission now was to restore the family and mend the mess the bastards had caused while a heir of pure blood was prepared. And who could have the blood more pure than Ehrendill, son of Erik and Serria, grandson of Rugina. His was the mission of restoring the Sirionites values for which his ancestors fought. He jumped from the stone and walked to the traitor. His eyes were placid and there was no anger in his countenance. No grudge, but also no mercy. The metallic fingers of his gauntlet caressed the human skin on his face.
Ehrendill Eyolf: “You betrayed me, brother. Your mission was to prepare the way; instead you tried to usurp what belongs to me: my name and my legacy. You should know that when the Black Dragon spared the Thousand Bastards. In the meantime you found a Princess and dared to dream of greatnesses reserved only for the true Serpentis. You probably didn’t like to see another Serpentis in Sirion, am I right? Sir Hector have only a portion of our blood, more than you, less than I do. Then you flew like a frightened crow and in your flight you distracted yourself with something bright in Highmarch. They're so much better than Sirion these days, aren’t they?â€
He smiled and kissed the traitor's forehead as his hand slid into his pocket, picking up the relic that so many bastards longed for, Erik’s left eye.
Ehrendill Eyolf: “It’s my time now, fallen brother. From now on, I’m your Alfather. Just as I am son of his daughter, you’re now my children under my wings. If at least one thing you did right, we're going to visit your Princess. Despite what you tried to do for her, despite your false sacrifices for Sirion and your cries of rebellion... she did the right thing while you went the wrong way. We, the Serpentis, owe it to her. Poor boy, I wonder how much you fell in love with her. Good friends you still can be. Lovers, maybe. Slave, if so she chooses. Your future belongs to her. You're in her hands as you've always been, but now I'll make sure you do not break your vows.â€
The young elf closed his eyes and saw in the darkness the pattern of the flames casting their red dancing lights. An open field burned, the hounds barking and the Gormok's Hunters imprisoning, confiscating, choking the taunts of rebellion. Like the Flockhart and Fleisher, one day they were there, in the other they were just another page turned into Sirion's annals. He opened his eyes and graciously ordered the men to march to Sirion. His journey was just beginning.
6
Helpline / Merchants and Food
« on: December 16, 2017, 12:32:40 AM »
Playing with a Trader subclass... how much food I can carry around? There's a skill like swordfight to increase numbers?
Plans to bring back the Black Market?
Plans to bring back the Black Market?
7
Roleplaying / The Life of a Bastard - Assorted RPs of Hrafn Skovgaard
« on: December 04, 2017, 11:32:31 AM »
Lead the charge, you idiot!
The truth about the latest new strategy
Hrafn reclined under the shade of a tree in the woods of Oporto, his agile hands passing over the documents and the last battle reports. More than mere reports, he had led one of these charges. He had felt willed and heroic, a sense of importance... which unfortunately was a lie. This was the honey his superiors used to lure young flies into their traps. That's why they chose only young Knights with few troops, because they were expendable, because they were willful... and idiots.
Hrafn: "So, some time ago someone discovered that the best way to dodge enemy archers was to send some poor Knights to the front line as bait while the rest of the army advances. Which kind of military genius did you need to guess it? I can imagine... I just didn't imagine it would become a trend that other leaders would use without shame, even in Sirion, where they claim to be so honored! In addition to letting their own regions revolt, now this... what a !@#$ty place Sirion has become..."
The young crow finally chuckled. What would be better than a young Knight with thirty untrained soldiers waiting to be shot fiercely, wounded, left behind at the risk of ending up in a prison, with no competent Judge who has spent five minutes on a trading plan to recue him? Exactly... one of those old and fat Sirionite Lords with 150 men leading the charge. To get wounded. To be left behind. To be arrested and robbed of their gold, to lose their cities and their positions.
That would be something worth seeing.
The truth about the latest new strategy
Hrafn reclined under the shade of a tree in the woods of Oporto, his agile hands passing over the documents and the last battle reports. More than mere reports, he had led one of these charges. He had felt willed and heroic, a sense of importance... which unfortunately was a lie. This was the honey his superiors used to lure young flies into their traps. That's why they chose only young Knights with few troops, because they were expendable, because they were willful... and idiots.
Hrafn: "So, some time ago someone discovered that the best way to dodge enemy archers was to send some poor Knights to the front line as bait while the rest of the army advances. Which kind of military genius did you need to guess it? I can imagine... I just didn't imagine it would become a trend that other leaders would use without shame, even in Sirion, where they claim to be so honored! In addition to letting their own regions revolt, now this... what a !@#$ty place Sirion has become..."
The young crow finally chuckled. What would be better than a young Knight with thirty untrained soldiers waiting to be shot fiercely, wounded, left behind at the risk of ending up in a prison, with no competent Judge who has spent five minutes on a trading plan to recue him? Exactly... one of those old and fat Sirionite Lords with 150 men leading the charge. To get wounded. To be left behind. To be arrested and robbed of their gold, to lose their cities and their positions.
That would be something worth seeing.
8
Helpline / Cannot Login with my account
« on: July 27, 2017, 04:34:44 PM »
Why I cannot login with my account? I have both email and password saved on my phone, I know it for sure... and still, I cannot log in. The email is an old yahoo account and I doubt it still exists, but it always worked.
Some help for an old player, please.
Some help for an old player, please.
9
Roleplaying / The Great Secret No One Will Care About
« on: February 17, 2016, 08:29:37 AM »
The Great Secret No One Will Care About
Ghulan Haytham was drinking in a tavern at Partora when he saw a young nobleman preparing for his adulthood with a lot of good wine. He carried a strange eye on a pendant and his noble clothes had the colors that Ghulan knew so well: the white, red and silver of the Serpentis from the House of Avamar. Ghulan's mother served the glorious conqueror of Sirion always he visited what was the Sultanate. He remembered when he was just a child and crept through the shadows and listened to the brief discussion:
Erik Eyolf: "Give the woman whatever she needs... at this point, my friend, any child in this continent may claim to be mine."
Any child. Anyone.
Ghulan waited until the young nobleman needed to empty his bladder, the time when his mentor, already drunk, chose to continue getting drunk. He pushed the door and the young man as an unfortunate accident, apologizing briefly before closing the door behind him to grab his dagger and cut the throat of the unfortunate legitimate son. Maybe a legitimate one.
Ghulan: "Hush now, little brother..."
The clothes were useless now, but he took them anyway and tangled them until it was possible to hide them reasonably before leaving a naked and lifeless body bleeding to death in the midst of urine. Ghulan had to leave the place in a hurry, but if he wanted to realize his plans, he would need help. And he sought where only a mentor could help. With a pat on the back he shook the drunk old man and whispered in his ear:
Ghulan: "You are responsible for a dead Serpentis. I am the Serpentis now. If you do not want to Gormok find you and punish you, you better make it work..."
The old man's eyes widened, but his captor touched the tip of the dagger in his flaccid belly and in a blink was dragging him out of the tavern. That night Ghulan had become Althirn Eyolf Serpentis, the one with Erik's left eye in a pendant, a sack of gold and an old mentor in his pockets to make all his plan to work a little before someone finally discover him... to put his miserable life to an end. Until then, he would enjoy the pleasures of a noble life. After all, as far as he knew, he could even be a son of the bastard who could not keep his pants on.
Ghulan Haytham was drinking in a tavern at Partora when he saw a young nobleman preparing for his adulthood with a lot of good wine. He carried a strange eye on a pendant and his noble clothes had the colors that Ghulan knew so well: the white, red and silver of the Serpentis from the House of Avamar. Ghulan's mother served the glorious conqueror of Sirion always he visited what was the Sultanate. He remembered when he was just a child and crept through the shadows and listened to the brief discussion:
Erik Eyolf: "Give the woman whatever she needs... at this point, my friend, any child in this continent may claim to be mine."
Any child. Anyone.
Ghulan waited until the young nobleman needed to empty his bladder, the time when his mentor, already drunk, chose to continue getting drunk. He pushed the door and the young man as an unfortunate accident, apologizing briefly before closing the door behind him to grab his dagger and cut the throat of the unfortunate legitimate son. Maybe a legitimate one.
Ghulan: "Hush now, little brother..."
The clothes were useless now, but he took them anyway and tangled them until it was possible to hide them reasonably before leaving a naked and lifeless body bleeding to death in the midst of urine. Ghulan had to leave the place in a hurry, but if he wanted to realize his plans, he would need help. And he sought where only a mentor could help. With a pat on the back he shook the drunk old man and whispered in his ear:
Ghulan: "You are responsible for a dead Serpentis. I am the Serpentis now. If you do not want to Gormok find you and punish you, you better make it work..."
The old man's eyes widened, but his captor touched the tip of the dagger in his flaccid belly and in a blink was dragging him out of the tavern. That night Ghulan had become Althirn Eyolf Serpentis, the one with Erik's left eye in a pendant, a sack of gold and an old mentor in his pockets to make all his plan to work a little before someone finally discover him... to put his miserable life to an end. Until then, he would enjoy the pleasures of a noble life. After all, as far as he knew, he could even be a son of the bastard who could not keep his pants on.
10
BM General Discussion / Wikipedia
« on: May 19, 2015, 12:27:37 AM »
Why the entire wiki is empty!?
Please, don't tell me I lost everything stored there.
Please, don't tell me I lost everything stored there.
11
Roleplaying / The Lich King - Adventures form the Future Ends
« on: April 25, 2015, 01:01:41 AM »
The Lich King
Adventures from the Future Ends
The world had changed. Over the ruins of countless worlds, the men had evolved and changed. Horseless carriages levitated on bright highways, a new type of dragon tore the heavens apart and the 'mankind,' the last descendants of Sirion, colonized planets in their own solar system and planned to plant their seeds in the infinite and beyond. Restless, they had tamed the stars just to realize the loneliness of their life, alone in a cold world in natural decay traveling to a new singularity. Alone they tried to listen in outer space the voices of other people, other creatures, a breath of hope. Alone and in silence, they returned to their own past to understand their origins.
EES 15-B insisted in his painful mission, trying to find funds to continue his researches. Men were no longer interested in the gods of the past, in a lost world of superstition and mysticism of the ancients ones. Their own past had been rewritten a thousand times after countless wars, after the age of steam, coal, atomic power and so many other technologies that drove to the future of cold reason and impersonal science that could not waste the future looking to the past. Out there, the stars darkened, the heat lost in the immensity and the cold seemed imperative, destructive and inevitable. So, instead of looking at the opaque stars, ESS 15-B drove his apparatus to the ruins, layers under layers of earth, digging and searching for the first wonders of Sirion, the colonizer of both Sirius and another worlds. If there was still some pleasure in the world, he found it at the ruins of Avamar. At the huge feet of a fallen statue he identified the strange hieroglyphics of a lost past. His robot worked on the immense calculations required for a quick translation:
My name is Aienheint, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!
Deciphering the imperial cartridge was more difficult, but infinitely more pleasurable:
Your Sacred Majesty, Aienheint, Lord of the Silver Fountain, Ruler of the Marble Castle and Guardian of the Ivory Tower.
Sovereign of the House of Serpentis,
Sultan es-Selatin,
King of kings,
Khan of khans,
Ambassador of the Elven Republic,
War Judge and Silver Dragon of Sirion,
High Commander of the Silver Legion and Arch Priest of the Sacred Grove,
Protector of the Temples of Avamar, Krimml, Trinbar, Dolmbar and Akesh,
Duke of the vast duchy of Avamar, Princeps of Krimml, Oligarch, Akesh and of all the neighbouring regions, Margrave of the Holy City of Avamar, Margrave of Trinbar and Akesh Temple, Count of Dolmbar and conqueror of many foreign lands.
ESS 15-B cried, probably the only and last tears in a thousand years of a cold and rational species. Following the clues, he had discovered a new world, preserved as magically (although it seemed impossible to his rational mind) by the ages. A world built of stone, marble and at the cost of the workforce of thousands of men. Below of what had once been a mountain range, he found the immense temple complex and then the labyrinths populated by skeletons of hundreds of other adventurers from different eras who tried to decipher those mysteries and rescue a lost treasure that in many different times would made a man rich and famous with a name immortalized by the discover. The robot scanned the walls of the entire structure and guided him by the corridors where so many had failed. What he found was a huge chamber guarded by a thousand female skeletons, with a solar vessel and tons of gold and jewelry, the greatest treasury ever founded. Preserved by a special combination of factors, a lot of papyri and books, a stuffed elephant and the grandiose sepulcher. There was a magic moment when he found himself how to activate the complex device that opened the ancient coffin. In the midst of a inebriating smoke the lid moved after a few moments and a naked man coughed and got up from his eternal sleep. Erik stood and watched the man in front of him, strangely familiar -- like one of his sons.
Erik Eyolf: "For how long did I sleep?"
The robot quickly processed the information and, in an electronic voice, translated the ancient language:
EES 15-B: "For thousands of years... I fear..."
Erik Eyolf: "Who rule your world now?"
EES 15-B: "Thelion 15-A, Prime Minister of the Galactic Republic..."
Erik Eyolf: "Thelion!? Ecthelion!? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!"
Adventures from the Future Ends
The world had changed. Over the ruins of countless worlds, the men had evolved and changed. Horseless carriages levitated on bright highways, a new type of dragon tore the heavens apart and the 'mankind,' the last descendants of Sirion, colonized planets in their own solar system and planned to plant their seeds in the infinite and beyond. Restless, they had tamed the stars just to realize the loneliness of their life, alone in a cold world in natural decay traveling to a new singularity. Alone they tried to listen in outer space the voices of other people, other creatures, a breath of hope. Alone and in silence, they returned to their own past to understand their origins.
EES 15-B insisted in his painful mission, trying to find funds to continue his researches. Men were no longer interested in the gods of the past, in a lost world of superstition and mysticism of the ancients ones. Their own past had been rewritten a thousand times after countless wars, after the age of steam, coal, atomic power and so many other technologies that drove to the future of cold reason and impersonal science that could not waste the future looking to the past. Out there, the stars darkened, the heat lost in the immensity and the cold seemed imperative, destructive and inevitable. So, instead of looking at the opaque stars, ESS 15-B drove his apparatus to the ruins, layers under layers of earth, digging and searching for the first wonders of Sirion, the colonizer of both Sirius and another worlds. If there was still some pleasure in the world, he found it at the ruins of Avamar. At the huge feet of a fallen statue he identified the strange hieroglyphics of a lost past. His robot worked on the immense calculations required for a quick translation:
My name is Aienheint, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!
Deciphering the imperial cartridge was more difficult, but infinitely more pleasurable:
Your Sacred Majesty, Aienheint, Lord of the Silver Fountain, Ruler of the Marble Castle and Guardian of the Ivory Tower.
Sovereign of the House of Serpentis,
Sultan es-Selatin,
King of kings,
Khan of khans,
Ambassador of the Elven Republic,
War Judge and Silver Dragon of Sirion,
High Commander of the Silver Legion and Arch Priest of the Sacred Grove,
Protector of the Temples of Avamar, Krimml, Trinbar, Dolmbar and Akesh,
Duke of the vast duchy of Avamar, Princeps of Krimml, Oligarch, Akesh and of all the neighbouring regions, Margrave of the Holy City of Avamar, Margrave of Trinbar and Akesh Temple, Count of Dolmbar and conqueror of many foreign lands.
ESS 15-B cried, probably the only and last tears in a thousand years of a cold and rational species. Following the clues, he had discovered a new world, preserved as magically (although it seemed impossible to his rational mind) by the ages. A world built of stone, marble and at the cost of the workforce of thousands of men. Below of what had once been a mountain range, he found the immense temple complex and then the labyrinths populated by skeletons of hundreds of other adventurers from different eras who tried to decipher those mysteries and rescue a lost treasure that in many different times would made a man rich and famous with a name immortalized by the discover. The robot scanned the walls of the entire structure and guided him by the corridors where so many had failed. What he found was a huge chamber guarded by a thousand female skeletons, with a solar vessel and tons of gold and jewelry, the greatest treasury ever founded. Preserved by a special combination of factors, a lot of papyri and books, a stuffed elephant and the grandiose sepulcher. There was a magic moment when he found himself how to activate the complex device that opened the ancient coffin. In the midst of a inebriating smoke the lid moved after a few moments and a naked man coughed and got up from his eternal sleep. Erik stood and watched the man in front of him, strangely familiar -- like one of his sons.
Erik Eyolf: "For how long did I sleep?"
The robot quickly processed the information and, in an electronic voice, translated the ancient language:
EES 15-B: "For thousands of years... I fear..."
Erik Eyolf: "Who rule your world now?"
EES 15-B: "Thelion 15-A, Prime Minister of the Galactic Republic..."
Erik Eyolf: "Thelion!? Ecthelion!? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!"
12
Roleplaying / Gold & White Room
« on: October 29, 2014, 06:30:43 PM »
Gold
Happiness resides not in possessions, and not in gold, happiness dwells in the soul. - Democritus
The Emerald Dragon was worried for a moment. He was visiting the walls of Akesh Temple, making plans to turn the Fortress into a real Stronghold, surrounded by seneschals and scribes, a couple of bureaucrats and an old architect. In a first moment he had to lower the taxes to please his people, to stop the emigrations to Nascot, to deal with the long distance from the Capital and even to stop hurting his own production. The result? Gold has become insufficient to pay the militia. Edric was facing his first obstacles as Lord and he needed to prove his lessons were learned. His family has always prided on having the best Lords, the best Bankers and Judges. 'Give me a challenge and I will conquer the world', his father used to say.
Edric Eyolf: "Send a letter to my brother, the Margrave of Trinbar. He's a rich bastard without use for his gold..."
Scribe: "I fear it's too late, Sir..."
Edric Eyolf: "Why?"
Scribe: "You just received 700 gold despite what your family sent this morning... from generous colleagues"
Edric Eyolf: "Who needs gold when you have a name!? Do you know what do we need now?"
Scribe: "Sir...!?"
Edric Eyolf: "A bank. We need a bank in Akesh Temple and there is just one way to do that. We will travel to Krimml, come with me, I will dictate a letter to the Council..."
White Room
With Black Curtains
Nesrah pushed the heavy door open, letting some light in, creating a dance of shadows. In his first step he kicked away an empty bottle and then his path became a slow dance by itself, trying to avoid the huge mess scattered across the floor. Before him, the hall seemed to stretch up to a gloomy mausoleum at the bottom of the room where Erik was sitting with his pipe hanging from his mouth with spiraling smoke filling the darkness. On both sides, at his feet, languid young concubines rested their heads on the thighs of the old conqueror. One hand stroked the hair of one of them, lazily, like a fat cat on his lap. On the other the goblet of wine. Bigger than him, a statue of himself behind him reaching the high roof, covered with perfumed oils, looking at the sorcerer with silvery eyes.
Nesrah: "Your son became Margrave of Akesh Temple with the highest count of votes I saw in years. You should get out of this abyss to greet him."
Erik Eyolf: "Consolation for the old wound now forgotten. I'll wait in this place where the sun never shines. I'll sleep in this place with the lonely crowd. Lie in the dark where the shadows run from themselves..."
Happiness resides not in possessions, and not in gold, happiness dwells in the soul. - Democritus
The Emerald Dragon was worried for a moment. He was visiting the walls of Akesh Temple, making plans to turn the Fortress into a real Stronghold, surrounded by seneschals and scribes, a couple of bureaucrats and an old architect. In a first moment he had to lower the taxes to please his people, to stop the emigrations to Nascot, to deal with the long distance from the Capital and even to stop hurting his own production. The result? Gold has become insufficient to pay the militia. Edric was facing his first obstacles as Lord and he needed to prove his lessons were learned. His family has always prided on having the best Lords, the best Bankers and Judges. 'Give me a challenge and I will conquer the world', his father used to say.
Edric Eyolf: "Send a letter to my brother, the Margrave of Trinbar. He's a rich bastard without use for his gold..."
Scribe: "I fear it's too late, Sir..."
Edric Eyolf: "Why?"
Scribe: "You just received 700 gold despite what your family sent this morning... from generous colleagues"
Edric Eyolf: "Who needs gold when you have a name!? Do you know what do we need now?"
Scribe: "Sir...!?"
Edric Eyolf: "A bank. We need a bank in Akesh Temple and there is just one way to do that. We will travel to Krimml, come with me, I will dictate a letter to the Council..."
************
White Room
With Black Curtains
Nesrah pushed the heavy door open, letting some light in, creating a dance of shadows. In his first step he kicked away an empty bottle and then his path became a slow dance by itself, trying to avoid the huge mess scattered across the floor. Before him, the hall seemed to stretch up to a gloomy mausoleum at the bottom of the room where Erik was sitting with his pipe hanging from his mouth with spiraling smoke filling the darkness. On both sides, at his feet, languid young concubines rested their heads on the thighs of the old conqueror. One hand stroked the hair of one of them, lazily, like a fat cat on his lap. On the other the goblet of wine. Bigger than him, a statue of himself behind him reaching the high roof, covered with perfumed oils, looking at the sorcerer with silvery eyes.
Nesrah: "Your son became Margrave of Akesh Temple with the highest count of votes I saw in years. You should get out of this abyss to greet him."
Erik Eyolf: "Consolation for the old wound now forgotten. I'll wait in this place where the sun never shines. I'll sleep in this place with the lonely crowd. Lie in the dark where the shadows run from themselves..."
13
Helpline / Secret Society
« on: October 13, 2014, 02:20:23 AM »
I founded a Secret Society, however I cannot edit the Founder position. Well, I can, however I cannot change the name for some bad-ass title. That's intentional or a bug?
14
BM General Discussion / Ryu, Atanamir, now Erik... good guy BM!
« on: September 17, 2014, 06:32:09 PM »
My account was blocked by the Titans because of a "placeholder". As it seems, I cannot play a Duke with powers over his own regions and his own people, his oath and !@#$. Now I know how the others felt offended after open a game they played for years to receive a "generic message from the almighty Titans" saying you cannot play. While I cannot care anymore to open BM everyday, when I want to play, I want to be sure I can open the game I devoted a LOT of TIME and EFFORT. Years to become Duke to be kicked by a generic message, I must say... I understand now why they felt insulted.
I will not be hypocritical to say they doesn't failed or that I don't failed, but I failed to see the situation as a placeholder one. You will have to step back and see how many times different people did it in Sirion to give back region for imprisoned Lords instead of using me as a !@#$ing example. Bu hey, nothing is better to give the example with someone with a name instead of a silent Duke that do it without being reported... I don't know if I must laugh or puke.
It's funny how a small group of persons can take a situation and ruin your gameplay or your will to devote at least one more minute to the game you played for years. I don't even have a Magistrate or a "Court" to defend myself, just the forum to "explain" myself -- and protest, of course -- as a spoiled child. You must review your system if you care with your PEOPLE. If you consider them or if they are useless at their first error.
Now what? I must be happy, wait three days to get back? Be appointed again or not to be appointed again... in any way, I will have to play everyday worried with a report, stepping in eggs here and there, without to say that after that, how do you think they will see the character I built for years be kicked out as nothing giving orders again!? I care less how they will see the player, while it's a true concern as well.
Maybe it's finally time to leave BM... maybe the Titans can find some fun playing alone.
I will not be hypocritical to say they doesn't failed or that I don't failed, but I failed to see the situation as a placeholder one. You will have to step back and see how many times different people did it in Sirion to give back region for imprisoned Lords instead of using me as a !@#$ing example. Bu hey, nothing is better to give the example with someone with a name instead of a silent Duke that do it without being reported... I don't know if I must laugh or puke.
It's funny how a small group of persons can take a situation and ruin your gameplay or your will to devote at least one more minute to the game you played for years. I don't even have a Magistrate or a "Court" to defend myself, just the forum to "explain" myself -- and protest, of course -- as a spoiled child. You must review your system if you care with your PEOPLE. If you consider them or if they are useless at their first error.
Now what? I must be happy, wait three days to get back? Be appointed again or not to be appointed again... in any way, I will have to play everyday worried with a report, stepping in eggs here and there, without to say that after that, how do you think they will see the character I built for years be kicked out as nothing giving orders again!? I care less how they will see the player, while it's a true concern as well.
Maybe it's finally time to leave BM... maybe the Titans can find some fun playing alone.
15
Helpline / Now or Never
« on: September 09, 2014, 01:48:34 PM »
My adventurer was arrested and received a message from the Judge. That was great, a good message and a good opportunity. However, I decided to see some other character first. "Hey, my letter would be there waiting for me!". It is not. I cannot see or reply the message anymore. I can convert and hope he writes again, but I had just one chance to reply. That's intentional? While it makes sense to the character, I want to be sure.
Pages: [1] 2