Messages

16

Roleplaying / Re: Who are the best writers in BM?

« on: May 14, 2014, 07:19:42 AM »

I'm so in: creating a character.  Look for Óskdís.

17

Roleplaying / Re: Who are the best writers in BM?

« on: May 14, 2014, 05:04:13 AM »

Where, Kobetheist?

18

Roleplaying / Re: Who are the best writers in BM?

« on: May 14, 2014, 02:27:28 AM »

Well, um... not to toot my own horn, but I've only been playing a few months and I've had quite a few medals thrown at me... 

I really want to find a realm where RPing is big.  I'm so tired of putting in the time and effort to give someone a lot of material to work with and then just not getting anything in return.  A little, I could work with.  Nothing, I don't even bother.  It hasn't helped that in the past 2 months (about 2/3 of my time playing this game) I've been a "nomadic noble", part of one of those realms that got uprooted and had to migrate on Dwilight.  I keep trying to find someone I can RP with regularly (whether that's as a traveling companion, a romantic interest, a rival, etc.) but then events force us apart (and then there's no conclusion or farewell --or reciprocation of my farewell-- from them: just radio silence).

19

Helpline / Re: Unique Item Creation

« on: March 16, 2014, 02:39:14 PM »

So... stalk and nag him until he makes me something?  That could have fun RPing potential if I broadcast it to the realm.  "Make me something!" "No." "Make me something please?" "No." "Something for me you shall make, oh wise Sage?" "A hundred times no."

"... No."

"No."

"No, and no."

"NO."

"But we've traveled so far together; surely a little something?" "Fine!" [Crafts the Beating Stick of Unspeakable Annoyance.] "... Well gee!  Thanks mister!"

20

Helpline / Re: Unique Item Creation

« on: March 16, 2014, 05:00:03 AM »

All my fights have been at the highest risk I can manage: while one adventurer of mine (the one with the best gear, weirdly) gets her ass handed to her every fight, my male adventurer (the one this list is from) kicks ass and chews bubblegum.  I only started doing serious item-searching with him because I thought I had a lot and I was perplexed as to why I couldn't make any Unique Items (a question that's been resolved by Indirik).

21

Helpline / Re: So I Want To Be A Trader...

« on: March 16, 2014, 04:57:35 AM »

Useful information!  The Wiki should probably be updated then.

And it's from an organization that I'm a part of: we do medieval battle reenactments (I'm sword-and-board... er, shield) and when we're sitting around camp we like to revamp movie quotes to pass the time.  That's one that stuck with us, and anytime you hear that question in our presence, you'll find it answered that way (immediately followed with the explanation, "Keeps them fresh!").

22

Helpline / Re: Unique Item Creation

« on: March 16, 2014, 04:50:37 AM »

Thank you!  See, that's the sort of idiot-proof guidance I need!

23

Helpline / Re: So I Want To Be A Trader...

« on: March 16, 2014, 02:26:09 AM »

Thanks for the positive feedback; is it obvious I know nothing (resisting the urge to say Jon Snow)?  My realm is on the verge of a migration; some are concerned about my sudden changing to Trader, but really, this is how I want to benefit them.  If I can learn to trade effectively and get people trusting the judgment calls and requests I make with the truffle shuffle (well, Food shuffle, but I couldn't resist calling it that) I can bring gold and food to our column on the march.

Or would, anyway, if there were any Caravans available to buy.    Unless I'm misunderstanding, and they aren't available under Paraphenelia (although they're listed under that in the Wiki)?  They're not even a an option that's been grayed out, although I've been assuming that that's because our Capital doesn't have the necessary facilities to build them or something.

Ideally, my goal is (in the future) to be my realm's Banker.  After all, it seems the most effective combination: trade far and wide for the good of the realm.  The ability to broker deals between multiple lords seems an incredibly useful ability in that regard.

24

Helpline / Unique Item Creation

« on: March 16, 2014, 02:18:30 AM »

I've got so many different Common Items of varying rarity... so what's next?  Is the option to create a new Unique Item something that's supposed to show up when you talk to a Sage?  Do they mention it first, or do you have to ask (and if you do, how)?  The Wiki's quote on the subject is:

Unique Items can also be built by Sages. They require certain common items to build a unique item (see some examples). It is not known beforehand what the unique item will be until it is actually made. There is also a chance of failure in that the sage comes up with nothing unique or valuable.

Unless it says it somewhere else in the Wiki (and I wouldn't know where to find it if it did), I haven't figured out whether I'm supposed to talk to these people and expect them to say, "Hey, I can make something, but you need this still!" or if they won't say anything until I have everything they need.  Do I need all of the necessary ingredients before an option appears (and I feel I've read somewhere that they'll tell you what you still need to create a Unique Item, though I am often wrong)?  This is getting increasingly frustrating: I'm hunting down Sages across the realm and approaching them at different hours and in different regions, trying to find the missing variables.  Because I feel that, by now, with the sheer volume of Items that I have, I would have gotten the option.

I'll show you.  I've got:

Common Items
Adventure Gear (5x)
Bear Hide
Beastman Blood
Black Diamond
Bubbling Potion
Ceremonial Dagger
Combat Gear (7x)
Cracked Sapphire
Crystal Globe
Empty Keg
Golden Idol (2x)
Hair of a Maiden
Monster Claw (2x)
Monster Teeth
Moonstone
Old Ring
Quartz
Rusty Signet Ring
Silver Goblet (2x)
Small Ruby
Strange Skull
Thief's Hand
Useable Items
Bandages and Alcohol
Lamp (2x)
Small Tent (2x)

Maybe I only think I have a lot, when most Adventurers wind up carrying this many different Items?

You have encountered a sage, a wise man, known as Radirak. People say he is very old. It is rumoured by many that he has magical powers. He and his kind are the only people capable of repairing and sometimes even improving unique items.

Since you do not have any damaged unique items, the sage can not offer you any repairs.

The Wiki says that they're capable of creating new Unique Items, but with the Sages I've met it's only said that they can repair and/or improve them; it says nothing about making them.  I've accepted this as a simple mistake --that all Sages are capable of creating Unique Items-- but maybe only a few are..?

If the remedy to my problem is patience, I can do that.  If it's traveling to other regions and approaching new Sages, I can do that.  If I need to grit my teeth and just keep gathering Items, I can do that.  But I'd appreciate some direction, please.

25

Helpline / Re: So I Want To Be A Trader...

« on: March 07, 2014, 07:48:52 PM »

Thanks Anaris.  I'd wondered why it was so damn hard to find any traders in my realm; no one really wants to be one.  But I guess that comes with certain political advantages, even if you're not as profitable as you'd like to be.  Being able to bring food in from other realms seems a handsome advantage, and I've been eyeballing the position of Banker in the future.  Surely those two go hand-in-hand?

26

Helpline / So I Want To Be A Trader...

« on: March 07, 2014, 07:14:42 PM »

What's on the tin, my friends.  I've been searching long and hard for a more in-depth guide to this sub-class, but I find myself unable to find anything.  If there is one out there that I'm missing, or someone cares to school a relatively new noble on this intriguing class, I'd love to hear it.  The Wiki has been a sparse read for me on the sort of depth I'm looking for, so please don't point me that direction.  Been there, done that, shot the guy who offered me the T-shirt for the umpteenth million time.

As for what questions I have about it...

1) So the different regions give different goods for trade.  I know Food comes best from Rural areas, and Lumber (or whatever) from Woodslands (busted by Anaris), but what about Mountains or Badlands?  I don't hear many people saying, "I need more ore!" or, "I need more sand/snow for my glass-blowing/ice-sculpturing business!"

2) Which class is a Trader best paired with?  By default I find myself thinking Courtier (the better to serve the realm) but I'm interested in hearing the advantages/disadvantages of other combinations.

3) If you've had a Trader, did you enjoy the experience?  Tell me as much as you can, the better to help me make this decision.

4) There's a lot of stuff I don't know enough to ask about.  This is another way of me asking, "What'd I miss, and how can I optimize myself for the sake of my realm and my own pockets?"

27

Atamara / Most Roleplay-Heavy Realm in Atamara?

« on: February 16, 2014, 03:19:03 PM »

I'm not going to disclose which character of mine is in Atamara or the realm they're in, but I was wondering which is the most roleplay-heavy realm?  I'm trying to engage the other players in the one I started in (sending letters to the nobles of the cities I visit giving greeting, offering to provide relief in monster-ridden regions) but communication is scarce.  I don't need to be around people who are "active": just willing to throw me a bone now and again.  I don't care how far I have to travel.

28

Roleplaying / New Beginnings

« on: February 10, 2014, 12:28:55 AM »

(Coming Soon)

29

Dwilight / Forum Introduction, Collaboration Request, etc.

« on: February 10, 2014, 12:27:38 AM »

So I've yet to really introduce myself to many of the Barcans.  Although I know I can do that in-game, I wanted to do it here too, to show that I'm also trying to be active in the forums.  I'd appreciate any advice I can get from you guys about how to move forward in the future. 

I was also wondering which folks here might be active on the RPing side of things, and if you'd like to collaborate on some posts sometime.  Since a lot of us are moving out to Celtiberia right now, that'd be a good pretense for some RPing.

Sincerely,

That One Chick Who Plays The Le Drakes

30

Roleplaying / The Challenges We Face

« on: February 09, 2014, 10:57:39 PM »

The tracks were fresh; of that much he was certain.  Melot gripped the hilt of his sword tighter, scanning the plains for anything that would give away his enemy's position.  A dense stand of trees on the otherwise flat terrain caught his eyes; if there was anyplace a pack of monsters could hide, that would be it.  He remained low to the ground as he advanced, thankful that the moon was only a small sliver in the sky.  The chill in the air tasted of winter; it had not yet begun to snow, and he dreaded to think of what sort of living he could expect to make tracking monsters and undead through snow in an unfamiliar land.  Maybe it wouldn't fall at all: Melot still had much to learn of his new home in Tara.

Light through the trees.  Melot could smell smoke and see a crackling fire through the dense brush.  He scanned the crowns of the trees for archers, not really expecting to find any: so far, the goblins he'd grown accustomed to fighting hadn't shown the foresight to mount a watch, and he'd grown confident enough in his own abilities to try more aggressive approaches.  This felt like one of those times: the tracks had been sparse, indicating a small group.  Smaller, surely, than those he'd routed before.

So why was his gut twisting nervously?

Melot shook the feeling off.  He crept as close as he could without being spotted, now able to overhear the clipped speech of his quarry.  Crude English and Goblinspeak fell on his ears.  He shifted like a cat readying to pounce...

A dark shape rushed him from a bush on the left, chattering angrily in Goblin.  Melot hardly had time to parry its first attack before it was on him; the smell of rotten meat and sweat filled his nostrils as the small, wiry body bowled him over.  The monster was surprisingly strong for its size, and he had to fight to keep his sword as it tried to wrestle the weapon out of his grip. Others came rushing out of the trees as he rolled free of his attacker and regained his feet.  An ambush?

And immediately on the heels of that thought, They're organized!

A Goblin ran at him with an axe raised above its head: Melot caught the haft of the weapon with one hand and ran it through.  He withdrew his sword from the creature's gut in time to ward off a blow from another, hacking into the Goblin with an overhead chop.  An arrow bounced off a buckle on his armor and ricochetted into the darkness; Melot charged the culprit and put his sword through its chest for its troubles.  Overall, the fight was decidedly in his favor, even after being ambushed.

Until It appeared.

Melot was vaguely aware of a great, black shape striding forth from the cover of the trees.  The Orc was gigantic, it walk full of the confidence of an experienced slayer of men.  The other Goblins retreated as this monster came forward, gibbering excitedly in their harsh tongue.  It stopped just a few yards from him and growled a command; the lesser monsters fanned out to encircle them.  All at once Melot came to realize just how such a small contingent of monsters could be so organized.

The Orc pointed its sword at him and issued a challenge in its growling tongue.  Melot returned the favor: he touched the flat of his blade to his forehead in salute and dropped low into a guarded stance behind his shield.  It was a poor thing; a center-mounted round made of heavy wood bound with iron, scarred from use by a previous owner.  In comparison his opponent carried tower shield almost as large as itself, and it disappeared behind it with only its eyes peaking out over the top.  He couldn't see its sword behind such an overwhelming defense, and prayed to the gods that it was slower than he.  Melot could already see he was outclassed in strength.

The two circled one another, staying out of each other's range at first.  Melot came in a little closer and struck at the edge of the tower shield; the Orc didn't so much as flinch, its eyes burning with intensity and hatred.  He tried again on its right: the Orc's arm lashed out like a whip, lightning-quick, and he hardly blocked it in time to prevent the monster from cleaving his head from his body.  It's fast!  His arm hurt all the way down to his shoulder, but he'd managed to block the blow without giving an inch to his opponent.  The Orc followed through with a second snap that he ducked, trying to get behind the monster's guard.  It seemed aware of what he was trying to accomplish and stepped back, presenting him with that towering defense again.

This time Melot tried to circle around its left, the side it held the shield on.  The Orc was slow to turn and snapped at him with the right again, having to move the shield out of its way to do so.  It's only got the one attack.  It might be stronger and faster with its strikes than he, but that limited repertoire would prove its downfall... or so he hoped.  Melot went for the left again to see if he could get it to open its defense once more; the Orc barked an order.  From behind he heard the rapid footsteps of a Goblin charging and turned just in time to turn aside its thrust; the Orc took the opportunity to step forward and try to catch him in a downward chop.  Melot rolled out of the way in the nick of time and rose to meet its second attack with his shield: this time his whole arm went numb, and his defense nearly collapsed under the weight of the blow.  !@#$! The round shield splintered but held, and he retreated faster than the Orc could follow.  Yet he remained keenly aware of the smaller Goblins that ringed him in and checked behind himself to be sure they weren't charging.  The chattering monsters pounded the ground with their fists and hopped about excitedly, positively beaming their frog-mouthed grins at him. 

"I get the feeling you've seen this before."

The Orc bellowed for his attention; Melot gave it to him.  He rolled his shoulder to test it; though it hurt badly from rolling on it and warding off the two blows that had managed to connect, it was still usable.  But thinking of it gave him an idea.  Melot approached his opponent again on its right; this time when it battered his defenses he allowed his shield to drop.  It lifted its arm for a second blow...

Melot stepped into the attack, nearly in the Orc's armpit.  This time he was behind its tower shield, where it could do nothing to ward off his blows.  The end of his sword whipped around behind his head; with a turn of his wrist he sent the momentum-driven swing into the back of the monster's skull, popping out his elbow to drive it home.  For good measure he struck twice, lightning-fast, his sword like a scorpion's stinger on the end of his arm.

The second blow split open his enemy's thick skull.  Not a lot, but enough to kill.  Melot would swear in later retellings of this fight that the ground had shook when the Orc fell to the ground.  He stood shaking over his dead opponent as he eyeballed the remaining monsters, his expression grim.  But with their leader dead the Goblins lost heart and fled in all directions, shouting to one another in their hellish language.  Soon enough he was alone on the plains, the Goblins nothing more than dark specks still fleeing in the distance.

He collapsed to the ground, shaking and panting from the adrenaline that now left him in a rush.

Melot lay there on the ground for several minutes, willing his body to move.  As his breath slowed to normal rate and his limbs stopped shaking he finally felt ready to stand.  He regained his feet and shuffled stiffly into the protection of the trees.  The small grove had been deceptive: at its heart he found a cave entrance at which a bonfire burned cheerily.  The reek of unwashed animals filled his nostrils from the piles of dirty furs arranged around the fire, obviously sitting, eating and sleeping arrangements for the monsters he'd routed.  Melot stood outside the small cave entrance and debated going inside; after all, he didn't know if that was the only Orc in the party, or if the others would find their courage again and try to assail him.  The glinting of gold from deeper inside made the decision for him.  Melot ducked his head to enter the cave, passing by a massive pile of furs that could only have belonged to the Orc he'd just killed.  Beyond the sleeping furs he found a small chest on its side; coins had spilled from it, which is what he'd seen glinting in the flickering light of the fire without.  He filled his pockets and started to leave the tiny cave shelter when something else caught his eye.  Near the entrance a sword sat leaning against the stone, half-hidden in shadow.  He gazed enviously upon the fine steel, keenly aware of the poor, dented thing he carried in his hand.  He saw the pommel was shaped into a dragon's head with garnets for eyes as he reached for it; the crossguard a pair of wings.  Appropriate for a Drake.  He mused, his hand closing around the hilt.  The instant he touched it fire erupted along the blade, and he dropped it with an exclamation of surprise.  The fire went out again, there and gone so quickly that Melot at first doubted what he'd seen.  But no: when he gingerly went to pick it up again fire poured down the blade from the hilt with a gentle whooshing sound.  Melot turned the blade this way and that, studying it in the light the blade's fire cast.

Drake's Fire.  The name came to him as if whispered in his ear, and he smiled.  "What a clever thing."  His voice was full of affection, but his smile was soon dampened.  Melot weighed the weapon in his hand and found it... wanting.  It was finally made: light and fast and obviously strong, the craftsmanship apparent in the ripples throughout from the steel being folded and folded again... but it just didn't feel right.  He tried to place what was wrong and couldn't: all he knew was that it made him feel vaguely uneasy.

"I don't think you're meant for me," He almost didn't trust the sword, and knew by that that he wouldn't get far fighting with it.  With a sigh Melot set it down and began searching among the refuse and other stolen treasures for the scabbard.  It was almost the last thing he found, buried under a suspicious pile of women's clothing.  He didn't dare consider why it was there, as touching it made him feel vaguely ill.

He slipped the sword into its sheath and slung it across his back, keeping his beaten sword out.  "Just a little while longer,"  He promised the damaged weapon, "I'll sell this thing, and you and I will part ways."

He knew exactly who to sell it to, too.

The Jocelin that rode into Rettleville that morning was not the same woman who had set out for it more than a week prior.  Her usual smile had been replaced with the tiniest of frowns, and her amber eyes bore the haunted look of someone who had faced their own death.  The young knight carried a burden now she might never be rid of: the knowledge of her own cowardice.

She'd escaped from the slaughter of her entire unit, the lone survivor of twenty-two men.  Since then her dreams had been haunted with memories of that desperate flight to safety, of never stopping for fear of the monsters at her back.  She had heard before that such survivors didn't remember much of the battle they'd been part of: if Jocelin ever met such a person she felt she would shake them by the collar and call their bluff.  Every death was fixed firmly in her mind, and she recalled them whenever she saw a similar face.  For the first few days the young knight had even reconsidered her future as a warrior.  But the more she thought back on the attack the angrier she became with the monsters at large throughout Barca.  That anger had turned to undiluted hatred: she had managed to escape and return to her family, but what of her men?  What of the common people who had even less martial training than herself?  It had boiled her blood to think of the unnecessary deaths attributed to the fiends... until the solution came to her.  Two mornings ago Jocelin had made the determination to hire a new unit and join the Wardens.  Not archers: she'd lost faith in bowmen, and thought a well-equipped infantry unit might have a better chance of survival.

(Under Construction)