Messages

Now all events will be after the duel was finished. This will be broken up into a couple different posts since there are quite a few RPs.

----

Antonia rushed through the cities of Grehk, forcing her way through the milling crowds. One man in the fish market didn't quite get the message and ended up face first in that morning's catch. At last she reached the fortified citadel where Vahannian resided and, standing in front of the gates, she cupped her hands to her mouth and bellowed

'Vahannian!!! Get out here now, I want a word with you! Vahannian!!!!!'

Lavitz stirred the coals of the tiny fire just outside his thatch hut in Avengmil. His hair was long and unkempt, his beard shaggy and wiry, long since unbrushed. His brown robes had grown tattered. He rotated a spit rabbit, and a few drops of grease tumbled from the body to sizzle in the fire.

He had built the hut himself, way out in the plains, away from civilization, and had lived off the land in seclusion. He spent his days meditating, or praying to the Veiled Goddess. They were one sided conversations, but it kept his faith strong.

A sound perked his ears. The sound of movement. The sound of human movement. When one hasn't heard it in a long time, it is very distinct. He looked over his shoulder to see a Scholar Adept making his way up the trail to his hovel.

"Leave me be, child," he grunted, turning back to his fire.

"M'Lord," the Adept bowed his head, "There is important news from the Heralds which you must be made aware of..."

Lavitz sighed, then nodded. The young man sighed in relief and approached the fire.

"Tell your story," Lavitz commanded.

"First, the Oracle has stepped down and entered seclusion," the Herald began, "Grandmistress Eva has taken control of the Heralds."

Lavitz thought. The name Eva struck no bells. He shrugged, stirring the fire again, "If the Prophetess requires seclusion to communicate with the Veiled Goddess, then that is what she must do. The papers, the bricks, the temples, they are just things. They can be administered by others."

"Indeed..." murmured the Adept, "I bring other news. News of your cousin."

This caused Lavitz to raise an eyebrow.

"She has fallen. Slain in a duel with Duke Vahanian Blint..."

"Vahanian? Why? What happened?" Lavitz was on his feet. This was news he had not expected.

"It is unknown. No official statement has been made."

Lavitz nodded. He could not imagine what scenario would take place for Vahanian and Jessica to cross blades, but he would need an explanation.

"Send word to the Templars..." Lavitz said as he strode into his hut. Beneath several furs, he pulled free a sheathed two handed sword, and strapped it to his back, "Tell them Lavitz Gildre returns to service!"

Lavitz arrived at Castle Grehk and dismounted his horse. Leaving it with the stable hands, he approached the castle gate where an armored guard stopped him.

"I am here to see Duke Vahanian," he said simply.

The guard shook his head, "The Duke is busy. We aren't admitting any audiences today."

"I think he will make an exception. Tell him Lavitz Gildre of the First Knighthood is here," Lavitz replied, "Tell him... I want to know what happened to Jessica."

Vahanian heard Antonia's shouting before he saw her. He was walking towards the gate anyway, a shrouded figure lie bound up in his arms, a shovel strapped to his back. As he approached the gate Antonia's voracious beratings intensified, he was already in the tumultuous throws of emotion and he was not about to let this pompous, arrogant, upstart get in his way.

As he approached the guards started to unbolt the gate and ready their weapons. Vahanian didn't break pace, 7 heavily armed and highly trained guards followed him out. He looked over at Antonia and said "Not now. I'm burying her first. Alone." Before he continued on he looked at his guards and said "If she tries to follow me, kill her."

Vahanian had made his way through the streets of Grehk carrying Jessica's shrouded form. He'd been walking for nearly an hour, and his arms were starting to burn in protest. He eventually had made his way to the hill he'd chosen to bury her on. Beneath an oak tree facing the ocean, he laid her down and began to dig. The sun had been at it's zenith when he'd started and by the time he was done digging the hole, it was starting to set, hidden behind storm clouds that had a foreboding look to them.

He climbed out of the hole and slung Jessica over his shoulder, before climbing back down into the grave. He laid her down and knelt next to her. Muttering a prayer under his breath. As he climbed out of the grave and speared his shovel full of dirt to cover her, a thunder clap boomed in the distance. He turned towards the sound and saw a crack of lightning illuminate the sky, behind the clouds, and for the briefest of seconds he could have sworn he saw Jessica's face in the shape of the clouds lit by the lightning. As he began to fill in her grave, he started to wonder if that was Obeah's way of telling him, Jessica was with Her now, and his duty to Jessica had finished.

He spent the next hour or so filling in the grave, ignoring the rain that battered at him during his work. When at last he'd laid the last shovel of dirt on her grave he leaned against the shovel, fighting back tears, and said "Rest now, my friend, I'll see you in the veil one day..." With one last look at the grave and one last glance towards the sky he made his way back to the White Citadel.

Vahanian returned to the gates of the White Citadel, soaked to the bone in rain water, which had done nothing to improve his mood. Antonia waited there, angrily berating the guards he left behind and as soon as she caught sight of him, she thundered her way over to him and began yelling. Vahanian pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to quell the anger rising in him, and resisting the urge to slap her.

"ENOUGH!" He roared over her. His sudden burst must have caught her by surprise because she immediately stopped yelling, and before she could start again, Vahanian said "Look. I know you're upset, Jessica is dead, I've just killed her. I know how you feel, probably more than you do. If all you're going to do is yell and scream and berate me, you'll be left out here all night and not admitted into the Citadel. If you need space to grieve in peace, a room will be made available to you. Otherwise, begone. I'm tired, I'm sore, and in a great deal of pain." With that, Vahanian turned away and walked towards the Citadel. He glanced over to another gate and saw a disheveled knight, with a familiar face standing there in conversation with the guards. A guard came over to him and said "My Lord, that man says he's -" Vahanian cut him off and uttered "Lavitz... !@#$.." The guard looked confused and then said "Shall we turn him away?" Vahanian shook his head, "No, let him in. I'll meet with him."

Lavitz was admitted and Vahanian met him, nodding his head to the man he'd not seen in a great many years. "Come, we have much to discuss. A room, and food will be made available to you, if you don't mind waiting. I desperately want to bathe before we discuss much of anything."

"Of course, Duke," Lavitz nodded. He watched Vahanian depart, and we lead into a sitting room by a guard. A platter of smoked meat and cheese was placed on a table, along with a bottle of wine. He pushed the wine away.

"Water," he demanded.

A servant nodded and exited the room. Lavitz looked at the tray, and his mouth watered. Cheese! He had eaten nothing but rabbit, deer, potatoes, and whatever berries he could find for years now. This platter of exotic meats and cheese seemed almost like a dream.

Struggling to maintain at least a fraction of discipline, he picked up several morsels, and began stepping around the room, gazing at decorations and memorabilia.

Vahanian sat in a steaming tub of water and soap while Lavitz was catered to with food and drink. He leaned his head back against the side of the tub and let the water run over his body, the warmth relaxing his muscles and doing it's best to was the day off of him. He didn't tarry long in the water, though he'd have liked to. He cleaned himself and exited the bath. Now warm, and clean from the day's events, he dressed in his dark blue and black robes, pulled his hair back into a knot with a thin black silk ribbon and combed out his beard.

He was still tired and sore, and there was a pain in his eyes, but he headed towards the study where Lavitz was waiting. Shortly after he arrived, some additional food and drinks were brought, Baldwin accompanied them. Concern was written all over his face. Vahanian poured himself a cup of tea, and plied a plate with some salted pork, cheese and fruit. Another servant entered with a tray full of tobaccos, pipes, and rolling papers in case Lavitz wanted to smoke as well. Vahanian pulled out his pipe and favored tobacco while he munched on some of the food on his plate, he packed his pipe tight and lit it. Studying Lavitz as the man walked around the room, inspecting the decor. Time in the woods had not dulled the man's physic, he looked as lean and muscular as ever, if anything he looked stronger, in a more functional way.

After a few moments, Lavitz turned to regard Vahanian as if he hadn't noticed the duke sitting there studying him. Vahanian puffed on his pipe before saying "She fought and died well.. I think you'd have been proud.." Lavitz eyes shifted around the room looking at the few servants and Baldwin who remained. Vahanian turned his head towards them and said "Leave us." The servants departed and Baldwin stayed, which annoyed Vahanian. "My lord, if I may." Vahanian cut him off. "No, you may not, captain. That will be all for this evening." Baldwin bowed his head and left, knowing better than to tempt his master.

Vahanian turned back to Lavitz and said "She... Jessica.. flirted with blasphemy.. by the Templar Code, my code, her sins demanded death." Vahanian waited and Lavitz said nothing. He continued "Are you here to try to kill me?" He wasn't nervous, as much as curious, if Lavitz wanted him dead, it would be a fight, a good one given the man's reputation, but Vahanian had seen enough death today, he didn't want to risk having to kill another Gildre.

[Long Did She Reign:]

An on going RP centered around a death duel and then the aftermath which contains plenty of politics. This first post will contain the RPs from right before the duel and then the duel itself.

(Edit: The three RPs at the very beginning of this story arc were missed during my initial posting, they have since been added.)
----

Jessica felt tears well to the brink of her eyelids as she read the letter to herself. His words cut her deeper than any blade ever had, and she felt sick to her stomach.

She breathed, and pushed the lump in her throat down into her stomach, and she felt red hot anger taking over. Slowly, teeth clenched, she closed her fist over the letter in her hand, crumpling it into oblivion. She threw it against the wall, and stalked off towards her study, leaving it discarded on the floor.

Entering, she slammed the wooden door behind her and stormed to her desk. She flung a book she had been reading across the room, and pulled a piece of parchment over to write on.

    You bastard! You think you have any idea what Rania wanted? None of you half-believers have any idea! None of you have felt the blessed touch of the Veiled Goddess as I and Rania did! You run around, preaching your self righteousness, so oblivious to your own stupidity!

    And you! Of all people I respected, to turn so ignorant! Locked away, whittling the minutes from the hours from the days! You have fallen so out of touch with Obeah, it disgusts me to think of!

    Don't speak like you know me. You don't. You never have. Foolish prattling man, preaching your Templar ways but lacking the courage for real action. If I died in seclusion, YOU died at the end of the last Invasion!

    I am sorry I have done things you can only dream of for the faith. I am sorry I have left you behind, a relic of the past.

    What the hell do you know anyway.

Her jaw hurt, and she relaxed. With a deep breath, she calmed her shaking hands, folded the letter, and slid it into an envelop. On it, she wrote a name. She left the study, where Bryant was waiting apprehensively. She handed him the letter without looking at him, and closed herself back in the study.

Bryant looked down at the letter in his hand.

Vahanian.

Vahanian sat on a balcony overlooking Grehk, a steaming cup of tea sat next to him as he read through the day's reports and letters. More discussion within the Sacred Realm, he filed those away for later, he didn't have the patience right now to deal with the idiocy of the government.

He thumbed through the rest of the documents before his eye caught a seal he knew. His heart sank. House Gildre. Jessica.

Baldwin, Vahanian's oldest friend and captain, had known Vahanian longer than anyone else alive. The two of them had been friends for over 50 years. In that time, Baldwin had seen Vahanian lose his temper only twice, both times came after the death of someone he loved. To say Baldwin was scared of the look in Vahanian's eye wouldn't capture the level of fear Baldwin felt. Vahanian read the letter, and within the first line his jaw was clenched. Before he was halfway through Vahanian's face was painted in rage. Baldwin had no doubt that if whatever was in the letter had been conveyed in person, than whomever was conveying it would be dead, or wishing they were.

By the time Vahanian finished the letter he stood with a roar of anger and swatted the cup off the table shattering it against the railing, sending steaming tea spraying out into the air over Grehk. Vahanian's hands shook with anger, his breathing was labored and his eyes had the look of a man set on death.

He sat down and wrote out a reply in that meticulous hand of his.

    What do you know? You cling to that half-prophetic vision of a failed prophecy as if it were significant to the world, to the faith, to Rania. You can claim all the holiness you like, the truth is you abandoned those you swore to protect, those you swore to defend, those you swore to serve, and rule. You abandoned them like a coward abandons a fight. You think you're the only one whose touched the Light of the Veiled Goddess? You think you're the only one whose felt her presence? You're as arrogant as you are mute, and as foolish as you are literate. You had better sight when you couldn't see!

    I lack courage for real action?! I carved the Sacred Realm out of the earth with my own hands, I paved the way for your 'Realm' if it can even be considered that, to exist!

Vahanian took a deep breath, his hands were still shaking, and his vision still red, he needed to hit something.

I DID DIE. I lost everything. Everything that ever mattered to me. Until Rania. Until Stheno. Until Obeah. They brought me back to life, so don't you tell me I don't know the Veiled Goddess. Don't you tell me I don't know Rania. I know them better than you ever could. You claim I prattle on about the Templar Ways. You're right, I do. The Templar demand death to the enemies of the faith. So today. I demand your death. Let us end this charade once and for all. Prove you have the right to even consider yourself a member of the faith. Prove you've earned the right to live.

Fight me. Coward.

Vahanian handed the letter to Baldwin who read it quickly before Vahanian said "Send it." Baldwin protested and Vahanian stood and shot his arm out, wrapping his hand around his oldest friend's throat. "I said. Send. It." Baldwin agreed while gasping for air before Vahanian left the balcony for the depths of the Citadel.

"This is completely foolhardy!" Bryant yelled, "He is your only true friend! Literally the only thing you have in the world!"

Jessica, half drunk, ceased rooting through the cellar for more wine and turned on Bryant, furious.

"Do you think this is really what he wants?"

She shoved him away from her, but he doggedly persisted, "So what now? After all this time, am I to just sit here and watch you drink yourself into a self-piteous wretch hell bent on her own death?"

She had enough. Stepping past him, she swept her leg back again, catching him behind the knees while she struck the heel of her palm into his chest. He hit the ground flat on his back, and she was on him, dagger in hand. She held it poised for a moment, letting the blood lust settle, and then tossed it aside. She grabbed a fistful of his shirt with one hand, and punched him twice in the face.

She tumbled backward, and he scrambled into a sitting position, blood smeared below his nose, "I won't do it. I won't watch you kill yourself."

Jessica waved him away, breathing heavily. He lifted himself to his feet, straightened his jacket and shirt, and looked down at her.

"May the Veiled Goddess watch over you, for I shall not any longer." He turned his back on her, and was gone. She clenched her eyes shut, trying unsuccessfully to stem the flow of tears. After a moment, she wiped her face and stood. She collected what she had come for, and then made her way to the stables. Several horse hands attended her, and she gave them the bottles of wine, and a letter for Vahanian.

It simply said:

Where?

She then left the hands to prepare her horse, and made her way to the armoury.

She arrived at the castle in Grehk and dismounted her horse. From the saddle she retrieved two items:

One bottle of wine, and one sheathed rapier.

With one hand she hurriedly tied her hair into a twist behind her head. She whipped the sheath from her sword, and left it lying in the dirt.

Taking a drink of wine, Jessica stalked into the castle.

Vahanian knelt in the temple within the White Citadel, he muttered to himself in prayer as he heard a subtle knock at the door. He turned his head but didn't move aside from that. Baldwin poked his head in and said "She's here."

Vahanian nodded and said "I know, I can feel it." He finished his prayers and stood, walking into his chambers. A few moments later he returned. Baldwin was off-put, he could see the fury and rage tumbling through his friend's eyes, but his face and the rest of his demeanor was eerily calm. He wore his dueling leathers, and had his silver-gray hair tied back with a black ribbon, on his hips were dual short-swords, his favorite weapons.

He barely acknowledged Baldwin, before walking towards the courtyard where Jessica was waiting.

He emerged from between two pillars and a shadowed hallway and stepped into the open air. Jessica was pacing back and forth, sword in hand and a wine bottle in the other. Vahanian drew his blades, stabbed them into the dirt and crouched down, grabbing a handful of the soil and letting it fall between his fingers before rubbing his hands together and cupping them. Bringing them to his nose he inhaled once and then clapped to remove the excess dirt. He drew his blades from the earth and stood ready to kill his friend.

Antonia rode as fast as she could along the road to Grehk. She had heard of rumours of something she had dreaded for a long time, but hoped it wasn't so. If she could just reach the city on time, she might be able to prevent a tragedy

'Your Grace, Your Grace' a rider approaching from the city called out to her. She rode on past him, but then heard again 'Duchess Antonia!' the man called again. Damn, Antonia thought, I'm still not used to that bloody title, it doesn't suit me. She reigned in her horse, dismounted and walked over to the messenger, constantly looking over her shoulder at the city gates that were so close and yet so far

'What is it?!' She snapped, standing so tall that she could nearly look the man on the horse directly in the eye
'You told me to send word as soon as there was any news' she began
'Yes I did, and this doesn't look like sending word, it looks like dithering, get on with it!' She growled, grabbing the reigns of his horse to prevent the mare bolting
'It's to late, it's over. It happened this afternoon. It was as you feared, they're dead'
Antonia's world seemed to slow down. She relaxed her grip on the reigns and the man looked somewhat relieved. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she turned with despair towards the city gates. Too late? No, it wasn't possible, if only she'd been able to find a harbour! And then the man spoke again
'Is there a message you would like me to take back?'
This caused Antonia to turn slowly back towards the him, anguish giving way to a cold rage. She grabbed the man and lifted him bodily from the saddle, letting out a roar as she threw him into an open sewer at the side of the road. He was fortunate enough to have his fall cushioned by its contents

Antonia then fell to her knees and let out another roar that seemed to shake the very heavens. Many of the local peasantry took the opportunity to quietly, yet quickly leave. After ten or so minutes, Antonia got back off the floor and began to walk with purpose towards the city
'Antonia' your horse!' Rosie called after her
'I don't need a horse, there's no rush now'
'What are you going to do?' Rosie called desperately
'Well there's no canals in Grehk, but I'm sure I can improvise'

Long Did She Reign:

Vahanian stood opposite Jessica, she took her last swig from the wine, before her eyes seemed to focus on him. Rage leapt up to her grasp as she hurled the bottle at him. He didn't move, the bottle soared over his shoulder and smashed against the wall. She wordlessly screamed at him. He looked at her blankly and rolled his neck and shoulders before saying.

"Come. Let us finish this." Jessica launched herself forward in a flurry of motion. Vahanian responded in kind, closing the distance between them to make use of his shorter blades. The first clash of steel echoed through the courtyard, and seemed to carry over the city. There was no lull, no pause between the first strike and the following strikes. Jessica was here to rid herself of Vahanian and she would let nothing stop her. Their blades clanged off each other again and again. Jessica using her speed to her advantage. Ducking and weaving, pressing her attack. Vahanian could smell the wine on her breath, it made her strikes much stronger than he'd expected. She wasn't holding back, wasn't looking for a way out. She wanted a way through. In that moment Vahanian knew his friend was truly lost. The steel rang out against one another. Each fighter pressing their attacks, fighting with equal ferocity, Jessica's attacks were stronger, and more wild because of the wine coursing through her body, but it also made her sloppy.

She swung wildly with her blade, Vahanian dodged back and evaded, and then slammed forward ramming his shoulder into her chest. Driving the air from her lungs she coughed and gasped for air as he slashed at her. First at her thigh, the cut was shallow, but sure to sting, Jessica seemed not to notice. He didn't wait, he slashed twice more, next at stomach as she recovered from being doubled over by his shoulder strike, she jumped back to evade being disemboweled, he slashed down with his right arm. His blade nearly took her eye out, instead it cut her from hairline the middle of her jaw, just missing her eye. Blood immediately poured forth and started coursing into her eye. She did her best to wipe it away on her sleeve, but more blood was there to replace what had been wiped away.Vahanian stepped back, almost called out her name, but before he could fully process his thought or his reaction. Jessica was launching herself forward again. Vahanian almost didn't bring his blade up to block her strike. Her wild swing reverberated down his sword into his arm and as she wrenched her arm back, she almost took his sword with her. He growled and bulled forward. He was going to end this. Drunk, and half-blinded by blood, Jessica wasn't prepared for the onslaught of attacks that Vahanian was about to deliver. She did her best to parry, block, and evade the twin blades that were singing death as they whizzed around her.

But eventually, Vahanian's skill and sobriety won out. As she went to parry a strike, he trapped her sword between the guards of both his blades and yanked it away from her. He pulled with such ferocity, he thought he heard a pop from her shoulder dislocating. He threw her blade to the side as he kicked her in the sternum, driving her backwards and lunged after her. His blade punched through her chest, piercing her heart and instinct took over, he twisted and pushed further into the strike, cementing her death. She gasped for air as blood trickled out of the corner of her mouth. Vahanian dropped the sword in his left hand and cradled the back of her head as he lay her on the ground. The gravity of the duel slammed into him like a tidal wave. She coughed and blood sprayed over his face. He blinked and looked down at his hand, grip still firm on the hilt of the sword lodged in her chest. "NOOOOOOO!" He screamed. "BALDWIN!" he screamed, as Baldwin sprinted forward cloth in hand. Vahanian grabbed them with one hand as he pulled the sword out with the other. Pressing the cloths onto her chest with both his hands. Tears started to streak down his face as Jessica looked up at him, and he saw the light start to drain from her eyes. Her right arm twitched, trying to raise it up but her dislocated shoulder refused to cooperate with her waning strength.

Her left arm instead came up and caressed his cheek, he started to reach up to hold her hand against his face as she used the last bit of strength to smile and press her hand against his cheek, before her arm fell to the ground and her head lolled just a bit to the side and the last breath of air from her lungs escaped. Baldwin put his hand on Vahanian's shoulder and tried to pull him away. Vahanian shrugged him off and pushed him away. He reached down and scooped her up into his arms. She felt so tiny, so frail as he picked her up. He struggled to his feet, grief beating the adrenaline into submission and making him weary. He started to walk away carrying her body when Baldwin asked "Where are you going, my lord?" Vahanian's voice was gravely and quivering with pain as he said "To bury her."

Not certain that this prequel will ever be finished. I am certain however that the meeting will not be finished as it stalled out and one of the key players have paused for now. The post will stay up regardless though and maybe one day the two of us will finish this.

I don't like the idea of removing the option for new accounts to join the realm they want nor the removing the limits on mergers completely. I think Delvin covered the merger part well enough so I was reiterate what he said.

As for the removing the option to join small realms on new accounts, there are a few issues.

1) What if it is a returning player to the game? They know what to do and might even be willing to help being more activity to the realm. When I rejoined the game last year my realm of choice was Morek Empire because I wanted to craft a story. Under this limit I wouldn't have been able to do that. While I did fail to follow through completely on the story and ended up leaving, I did have some fun engagements with the players in that realm. I can't say for certain that I helped generate fun for those other players but I prefer to think that I did.

2) What if the small realm is engaged in a local war? Maybe the war side of the game is what the new player is looking for. A local war would be good for those type of players and arbitrarily cutting them off from that would not help.

3) What if someone recruited a friend and they want to play together in that small realm?

4) What if there is an active player or two in the small realm that only need another player, maybe even a new player, to engage with to spice things up?

Ultimately, the issue boils down to the fact that this would make it even harder for small realms to get larger or more active. I agree that generally speaking new players joining small realms means, at least in theory, that they are less likely to stay in the game. What I disagree with is denying the small realms even a chance to retain those players and removing player choice.

Edit: I should add that I do think it would be a well intentioned change. (Just like the majority, if not all, proposed/implemented changes.) But as the saying goes, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Maybe the benefits would outweigh the cost but I personally do not believe it would.

A reminder each day sounds a bit excessive. A week or month would be a more reasonable time frame for automated reminders if such a thing was implemented.

Eva exited the main hall that rested in the center of Grehk. A palace had not yet been constructed and in the meantime official operations ran out of the Margrave's manor. The Royal Carriage waited for the Grandmistress in front of her temporary place of residence. Moonlight and torches illuminated the barren streets of the night. Templars guided her into the carriage where her grandfather, Peterson as she has always called him, was already waiting.

Bewildered, Eva looked into his weary face, "what are doing?"

"We are going to Rines, no?"

"We?"

"Of course! You still need my guidance, child."

Eva let out a sigh of dissatisfaction, she had hoped to keep her family out of sight but such would not happen. How much of her grandfathers true character, heretical at a minimum, would her companion see?

"Do not worry," Peterson smirked, "he will not suspect a thing, they never do."

No matter the reassurance, the Grandmistress couldn't help but feel uneasy. Looking to her unexpected guest beside her, the carriage rocked forward, toward the location of her planned companion. Peterson's bushy grey beard covered most of his wrinkled face. Faded tattoos, from his homeland in South-Western Dwilight, ran from around his right eye down behind the bearded cheek. In casual night-ware, her grandfather rested his balding head on the side of the carriage. Eva looked back in front of her, adjusting her white vestments but keeping her veil lowered.

After a short journey the carriage came to a stop. A guard opened the door beside Eva in order to let the Grand Templar into the carriage. The Grandmistress sat up straight, making sure there was plenty of room for her guest to get seated on the bench in front of herself and her grandfather. Only rattling armor from outside and light snoring inside could be heard. Taking a deep breath, filling her lungs, the petite Grand Herald steeled her nerves with a slow exhale...

----

The Grand Templar sat down with a thump in the carriage opposite the Grandmistress and a man unknown to him. As always, Ferdinand wore the Cruel Plate Mail of Grehk and carried his sword. Putting the forgetting shield to one side he finally bowed to the ruler of his Theocracy.

"Grandmistress... I expected that we would be alone..."

Staring at the man, Ferdinand did not trust him at all. The tattoos for one were not some he entirely recognized and for his outfit... it was hard to be courteous. Yet, he hoped the Grandmistress would have her reasons for a extra bodyguard.

"Grand Templar of Obia'Syela, Ferdinand Greybrook - I am here to ensure the personal safety of the Grandmistress. The Templar Zealots will trail behind us so we are well guarded..."

He left the conversation purposely on edge, with his hand on his sword hilt. He hoped this journey was easy. Yet, these were uneasy times.

----

"Grandmistress... I expected that we would be alone..." the now seated Grand Templar Ferdinand said before looking towards Eva's grandfather, "Grand Templar of Obia'Syela, Ferdinand Greybrook - I am here to ensure the personal safety of the Grandmistress. The Templar Zealots will trail behind us so we are well guarded..."

The tension wasn't hidden and only served to unease the Grandmistress more. It wasn't really the raised guard of Ferdinand nor was it fact that the realm was on the brink of war. Truthfully it was more personal, more selfish. Eva worried that this would be the moment that hidden truths would be revealed. Of course not, Eva tried to comfort herself, he wouldn't be so careless. He would do his usual routine of forgetting names, mistaking people, speaking nonsense. Seeing past the mask wasn't easy, an old man suffering from dementia wasn't unusual after all.

Peterson looked wearily at the Grand Templar during the entire greeting. Jolted awake when Ferdinand sat down in full armor, Eva's grandfather would have given the military leader a scowl had he only the energy. Heavy eyes dipped and raised as he struggled to keep his head up while Ferdinand spoke, a futile task. Peterson laid his head back against the wall of the carriage without replying.

Relief washed over Eva like a cool sea breeze. Turned back to Ferdinand, Eva tried to explain: "I apologize for my grandfather's...unexpected presence. I was raised in the Holy City of Rines and he has decided to surprise both of us by joining this journey to the Holy City." Creaking carriage wheels filled the brief silence, as Eva leaned forward slightly and lowered her voice, "he is not well." Tapping a thin finger against her temple she hoped the intent was clear.

Returning to the comfort of the velvet cushion, Eva looked out the window. Resting near the horizon, the full moon's illumination became blocked by tall buildings as the caravan made it's way to the gates of Grehk. In mere minutes the group would leave behind the fortified city. Eva watched dim white walls appear and disappear, time after time, as building after building came and went. War was on every noble's mind but those behind the white walls, they don't see what is just around the corner. Battle may not come to them but they would feel it nonetheless. Many would be losing someone, be that a parent, sibling, child, or neighbor. Whether or not the loss of life occurred didn't truly matter, no one returns from intense conflict unchanged. Was it all worth it? That was the question Eva somberly contemplated.

"Aside from military matters I don't remember seeing many letters from you about the...rising storm. What do you hope is accomplished at this summit?" Eva did her best to avoid transparency and made an effort to gauge the Grand Templar.

----

Looking at the Grandmistress, Ferdinand wasn't sure what to say. They both knew that if Ferdinand gave the word that morning, the realm would be at war:

"The Oracle decreed this meeting to take place between the Pontefix and yourself with her holiness as moderator. While I have my doubts, I hope that both realms can unite in cause against the Unholy Order."

Ferdinand's opposition to Jidington colony was known as much as he was the one to take the city back from the rogues. Yet, forever guided by the Oracle, he was as zealous and loyal as ever

It was in a passing moment that Ferdinand experienced the flashing pain strike his mind.

Had his nightmare returned?

----

Eva continued to watch buildings go by as Ferdinand spoke. Agitated just by the thought of previous dialogue with Jessica, Eva replied to the Grand Templar: "Negotiations will be futile, Jessica is a stubborn woman who has not been listening to reason. It is as if she only learned to read a year and half ago."

Buildings became less numerous as they drew close to the wall. "Maybe the Oracle will be able to get through to her," Eva's tone softened after the brief pause. Rattling armor interrupted her focus and she looked towards Ferdinand. Darkness, all light still impeded by houses. Slowly the carriage became illuminated as it entered the clearing before the gates. Eva watched the Grand Templar appear from the void...

Eminence? Eminence? This child? Dancer's thoughts raced as as the veiled woman calmed her guard. Who exactly had he run into? His eyes flicked to the veil, understanding dawning on him like a crashing wave. The Margravine had spoke of her, although Dancer had never thought she would be so young. The 'Veiled Bitch'. He turned the situation over in his head. As nice as stabbing her would be, he wasn't likely to succeed, and even less likely to get away. He could simply try to run, but the guards would certainly catch him before long, whether he tripped on a tree root, or they simply outpaced him. Talking his way out of it was the only option.

    "What is your name, traveler," she asked, "you are obviously not a commoner, perhaps I have heard of your family."

Dancer did his best to sound convincing, wolfish grin still plastered across his face, "I am no one of importance, simply a traveler passing through. My friends call me Dan. Tell me, child, who are you?" He mentally chided himself. He just couldn't get past how young she was.

"I am no one of importance," his wolfish grin remained, "simply a traveler passing through. My friends call me Dan. Tell me, child, who are you?"

"Child!?" a fresh-faced guard scoffed, "you disrespectful knave!"

Erick looked back at the gold haired guard, "quiet!"

The scene descended back into tranquility, not a sound or move occurred. Rustling leaves broke the temporary silence, the forest's blanket disturbed by various unseen critters. Gradually sunlight faded behind the cover of thick clouds. Most could sense the relief of the armored guards, who were glad to have a reprieve from the midday heat. Eva, with her thinner vestments, didn't even notice. Instead, her concentration was on this "Dan".

"Child?" Eva thought, "an oblivious foreigner this one, who is he really? Not a member of the flock nor from the area, as I originally thought."

Erick wiped the sweat from his brow, the only movement in this brief wordless moment.

"I am Eva Foote," the silence was broken with her silky voice, "Grand Herald of the Veiled Goddess and Grandmistress of the Sacred Obia'Syela. Tell me, Dan, what deity do you call to in the depth of night?"

His hand had twitched to his weapon again. He'd managed not to draw his weapon, but only just. Once again, he quelled his anger, his smile slipping for only a moment.

    "I am Eva Foote," the silence was broken with her silky voice, "Grand Herald of the Veiled Goddess and Grandmistress of the Sacred Obia'Syela. Tell me, Dan, what deity do you call to in the depth of night?"

He'd expected this, but he still didn't have an answer. By no stretch of the imagination was he going to tell her about the Lords. Not when he was surrounded. Deflection it was then. He tilted his head, inquisitively.

"The Heralds huh? I can't say I've heard much about them, Grand Herald. Who are they? What do they stand for?"

"The Heralds huh?," Dan replied, "I can't say I've heard much about them, Grand Herald. Who are they? What do they stand for?"

Dan avoided the question, a fact not unnoticed by Eva. Suspicion grew but the urge to proselytize was too strong for her to resist.

"The Veiled Goddess, Obeah," she began her monologue, "is the Goddess of magic and the only deity to take an active roll in aiding humanity against daimonic forces. The Holy Mother came to the Oracle, Rania Eastersand JeVondair, and gave her the strength to kill the Archdaimon Akkan in battle during the last invasion. Soon afterwards, in the Holy City of Keffa, the Oracle founded the Heralds of Obeah. We Heralds study magic, mysteries of the world, and spread the grace of the Holy Mother. Through the magical power of prayer, the Veiled Goddess shall be able to finally end the infernal invasions."

Eva paused for a moment before continuing: "but what, you may wonder, is so magical about prayer? The truth is, prayer has no power. The power is within us living beings, our soul as some may call it. How the power is wielded, where that soul is directed, that's what is important. Weakness, wickedness, warps the soul, empowering the ultimate evil which resides within the Netherworld. Vigor, virtuousness, vitalizes the ultimate benevolence, the Veiled Goddess. What you do matters, Dan, which path will you seek?"

"Tol Goldora started with 7 nobles and has 23 now."

And if Tol Goldora didn't exist where would those 23 nobles be? Would there still be realms below 15 nobles? Where would those nobles be, in the West making the island more spread out or in the east making the island more compact?

The total realm count matters. If you have 100 nobles and 5 realms, then the average will be 20 nobles per realm. If you have 100 nobles and 6 realms then you will have an average of 16.6. Dwilight, prior to the four realms (Luria Fer, HD, Morek Empire, and Fissoa) that have died by merging into other realms, had an average of 12 nobles per realm. That was the state of the island when the limit was put in place and is relevant to the discussion.

The PHP update has caused issues with the wiki, it will be fixed in time. If you need information on the pages that give an error then click "view source", or "edit page" if logged in, and you can view the raw information on the page.

Ethelbert put pen to paper and continued his journey journal:

Spring, Year 49, Day 9 of the journey:

We left the city and made it to the outskirts. Some fled, some joined. Tomorrow we move to [Region:Duil], more preparation is needed.

Ethelbert set down his pen and entered the Folds.

----

Ethelbert put pen to paper and continued his journey journal:

Spring, Year 49, Day 10 of the journey:

We made it to Duil, we counted the people on our way, roughly 600. This is only the beginning.

Ethelbert was exhausted from the travel and went to bed early. Tomorrow, he knew, would be eventful...

Ethelbert put pen to paper and continued his journey journal:

Spring, Year 49, Day 7 of the journey:

Everything I thought I knew was wrong. I now know the truth. He showed me, not through guidance but through amalgamation. The voyage begins now.

Ethelbert put down his pen and went to sleep, tomorrow would be a busy day.

----

Ethelbert put pen to paper and continued his journey journal:

Spring, Year 49, Day 8 of the journey:

As gates parted, sunlight peered around buildings and refreshing sea breeze washed over me.

Ethelbert continued to write out the events in great detail...

----

"Come on," Dreu groaned, banging on the door.

Rapidly the door opened, revealing her scowling face.

"G'morning, Helice." Dreu stood up straight and smiled as he looked into her narrowed eyes "where is Wernerus?"

"Asleep," Helice's expression softened slightly.

"May I come in..." Dreu couldn't take his eyes off her.

Helice opened the door fully, giving Dreu entry into the small home. Back straight, chest out, he walked past her. Dreu looked at his partner's teen-aged son, Pandulf, who was engrossed in the only book the impoverished family owned. Wernerus traded some furs to a traveling merchant in order to acquire the book back when Helice was pregnant with their second child. Wernerus wanted his children to learn how to read, hopeful that they would be able to accomplish more than himself. That was before the drinking, before the stillbirth.

"Learnin anythin?" Dreu asked

Shaggy haired Pandulf looked up but said nothing.

"Wernerus!" Helice yelled, "get up!" She moved towards the stove, "tea?" she asked Dreu.

"No, thank you. We need to go before the buyers leave."

"Right," her smile faded, "Wernerus! You stupid drunk!"

Stumbling from the back room, the weary Wernerus appeared. "I heard ya woman, qui' da yellin'."

With a frown Helice poured herself a cup of tea, she avoided looking at her unkempt husband. Wernerus picked the cup up and quickly gulped it down, "I'll be back late, m'love."

Helice slammed the kettle down, "don't ya come home drunk again," she snapped.

"Yeah, yeah. Come on boy!" Wernerus headed out the door as Pandulf followed.

"Have a good day, Helice," Dreu grinned before following Wernerus.

Helice's disgruntled expression faded for but a moment before the group parted.

----

Bustling was the marketplace, just past noon, they were late.

"I hope we can still get a good spot," Dreu spoke loudly in an attempt to be heard over the commotion.

Wernerus did not reply but continued to pull the cart of furs, the product of his trade.

"What the hell is that?" Dreu inquired.

"I'll go see," Wernerus replied, "stay wit' da furs"

Wernerus and Pandolf walked to the back of the packed crowd, they couldn't get closer. Wernerus tapped the man in front of him on the shoulder, "wha' da hell goin' on?"

A rough looking face turned to him, "some mad man," he answered with a toothless grin.

"Maddenin' star mus' be bright." Wernerus said as the crowd seemed to be thinning.

Slowly the crowd parted, and the enigmatic figure appeared before the father and son.

"Ahh, who be thee!?" he asked.

Wernerus looked him up and down. Almost completely naked, the mad man's skin was dyed green, covered only by the partial deer-hide, and his head with leather hat and large antlers. Wernerus was speechless, he didn't know what to say.

"Weeellll?" the mad man asked again.

"Wernerus..."

"Wernerus! What a name, and you?" he asked Pandulf.

"Oh," Wernerus looked to Pandulf, "that me boy, Pandulf, he caint talk."

"Ohhh," the mad man side stepped and leaned down to look Pandulf in the eyes. "I see, I see. You must come and ye shall be cured! Come, follow the Green Hind!" he jumped back up into a fully standing position.

"Da Wha?" the dismayed father asked.

"The Green Hind!" the mad man replied before turning back to Pandulf, "have you heard of the Green Hind?"

Shaking his head, the mute stared into the priest's dark eyes.

"I see, I see..." the mad man jumped back, sending the crowd shuffling away ever so slightly, "listen closely, ye lost souls! The Green Hind is the majestic escort through the Folds! He guides us all through the forest, through the jungle, to illumination, to salvation. Long ago, as beasts rose from the mists and ravaged the West, the Green Hind guided Priest Geg to illumination. With the light, the Great Priest led many Westerners through the hordes, parting the sea, and to their salvation in the East!"

Pandulf stood mouth closed, eyes wide.

The mad mad got close to the boy, "you haven't a story to tell, come find your story, your salvation, follow the Green Hind!"

Walking away, the mad man made his way out of the marketplace, a large portion of the crowd seemed to follow him.

Wernerus shook his head, he remembered the destruction of the west when he was a child. "What do I have to lose", he thought, "ahhh, hell with it..."

Wernerus and Pandulf approached Dreu who was still at the cart.

"Well?" Dreu inquired.

"We're leavin' for a while, he goin' ta heal Pandulf, make 'em speak." Wernerus replied halfheartedly.

"Have ya lost yer mind?"

"Take care of Helice for me." Wernerus mumbled as he put his hand on the beaming Pandulf's back and followed the crowd.

Dreu's look of dismay dissolved into a smile as the father and son left the city.

It was just as he remembered it. The sands were fine, a light breeze sending the grains dancing every few hundred feet. Dancer's ship had landed at a small harbor town, currently under it's own rule. He checked his pack for the fifth time, jostling it a bit to check for the cache of scrolls. He was asking for trouble, walking in the territory of the Pretenders without a unit. He had a small sword, inked with a few infernal runes, his pack, now overfilled with summoning scrolls, and his wits. His milky eyes raked across the quay, searching for any signs of trouble. The docks were busy, but not packed. He couldn't see any blue flags, so he must have landed unnoticed from the Pretenders. He slipped through the town, his head down, and his pack clutched close to his side. He had to stay unnoticed, for the consequences of discovery would be steep. Obia'Syela was the one realm he couldn't stand. Those dirty Pretenders honestly thought they could control deamons! He smiled wolfishly to himself, dodging a fruit cart on his way out of town. He'd wipe them from this planet, one way or another. They sat on his land, preaching about magic and some false deity. His lip curled a bit as he thought of the Pretenders. He'd made it out of town, heading down one of the two roads out of town. It must have rained recently; dirt caked his boots almost immediately. He walked with purpose, staring at the ground. He couldn't believe such fools flourished, preaching such foolishness. He'd lead an army down here one day, and clear these stains from this land.

He was deep in thought, internally raging, when he ran smack dab into someone. He looked, up, startled out of his internal discord. Several men, clothed in violet, barred his way.

----

Sunlight poured in through the rocking carriage's open window, each imperfection of the primitive road could be felt. Straining her eyes, Eva carefully tried to decipher the sloppily written letter. Splashes of water could be heard as the wheels rolled through the occasional hole, creating a break in the cacophony of horse hooves and idle chatter by the guards. Softly gliding her fingers through soft crimson hair, Eva cleared her vision of the external distraction. Mouthing the words as the letters became more legible, her concentration on the report increased. Suddenly everything came to a halt, sending the Grandmistress forward, breaking her focus, and raising her intrigue.

Casting her emerald eyes out the window, the countryside became blocked by the side of a massive Paladin covered in violet plate. "Why have we stopped?" she inquired.

"A traveler!" a raspy voice replied.

With raised brow, Eva gleamed up ahead. A host of guards in mail and violet cloth could be seen but not the supposed traveler. Long ago this area had been fully converted, she thought, surely this intruder must be one of the flock. In haste she put on her thin white veil, leaving nothing but the eyes and hair fully visible. With a quick exhale she composed herself and proceeded to slowly exit the carriage.

Eva's ceremonial white robe dropped out onto the muddy road as she started her way towards the commotion. Arguments could be heard but the words were elusive. All went silent as the guards noticed the Grandmistress approaching them, they parted slightly but remained between the unknown man and the royal woman. Eva stopped in her tracks, a short distance in front of the traveler. Patiently she waited for the usual greeting from one of a lesser station.

----

A flash of rage flicked across his face. He reflexively reached for his sword, stopping short before he drew. He'd run into a large plated warrior, steel stained violet. The guard took a step back, drawing his weapon in one motion. "Halt, traveler! Take your hands off your weapon!" Dancer narrowed his eyes, but relented. Several more of the violet guards stood around him, hands resting on a cacophony of weaponry. "I am sorry, warrior of purple. I can't see very well anymore, and I'm afraid you startled me." The first guard didn't sheath his weapon, but he did let it fall to his side. "What do you think you are doing, peasant?" Dancer bristled, but said nothing. "Watch where you are walking! Someone could have been hurt!" Dancer still said nothing, carefully controlling his temper. He mustn't get caught. While the man preceded to give Dancer a tongue lashing about proper travelling etiquette, Dan took stock of his surroundings. He'd made it quite a ways into the forest, the sounds of the city long gone. Several men, covered head to foot in violet livery stood around, most looking tired and bored. An ornate carriage sat in the center of the purple horde, two beautiful black Friesians lashed to the front. A flash of blue, and his heart sank. On the side of the carriage, he could see the heraldry of the Pretenders painted in bold strokes. He'd barely made it on land, and his inattention may have cost him his mission.

At least he had a disguise on, abit a poor one. He had simply thrown on a ragged coat, over his normal loose white shirt and black slacks. While the dirt from the trip would help sell the ruse, he still looked, at the very least, well off. His brown stained pack would help, he figured, at least until someone looked closer, or worse yet, inside of it. Hopefully they wouldn't take away his weapon either. He'd unwisely strapped his ceremonial sword on his hip, rather then his normal one, thinking only of the long walk ahead of him. The blade itself was craved up and down with infernal runes. Thankfully, he'd never been important enough to receive one with a fancier hilt, so unless they unsheathed it, it looked like a normal sword. The guard stopped chattering, falling silent abruptly. Dan looked to the carriage, side door now standing open. The men silently parted, and women in a long white shift was revealed, gracefully walking towards him. A noble then, he thought. She was clearly very young, so he doubted she was anyone of importance. The strange veil was out of place, but he figured it was some fashion statement for the Pretenders. Anger flashed across his face a the thought of the Liars, but he suppressed it quickly. She stopped a short distance away from him. Dancer pondered for a moment. She was smart enough to stand out of his sword range, but not smart enough to have his weapon confiscated. Inexperienced then, but she did have some combat training, whether she realized what she'd done or not.

The cultist begrudgingly tilted his head, wolfish grin crossing his face. "Lady, I am sorry to disturb your travel. I accidentally walked into one of your men. I'm afraid my eyesight has been failing for many a year now."

----

All was quiet after the greeting, no signs of life from the woods could be heard from the muddied road. Eva paid close attention to the traveler, keeping her emotions masked behind the ceremonial veil. His eyes, his smile. They were unsettling, sending a small shiver up Eva's spine.

An experienced guard next to Eva turned to face her, "Your Eminence," his deep voice broke the silence, "it is unsafe, you should return to your carriage and let us handle this."

Eva looked to her right, up into the bare face of the guard, slight wrinkles and grayed hair visible to all. Her hands were intertwined in front of her, hidden inside the arms of the her robe. Gracefully she reached up to place her hand upon his cheek, allowing the long scar across her palm to be seen. "Erick macaan," she reassured, "ha walwelin, Hooyo Quduuska ah ayaa nala socota."

Eva returned to her normal stance allowing Erick to turn back towards the traveler as well. Changing from the religious language and back to the common tongue, Eva addressed the traveler with her heavy Rinesian accent. "What is your name, traveler," she asked, "you are obviously not a commoner, perhaps I have heard of your family."

Eva knew that this was unlikely, the traveler definitely wasn't a peasant but he did look too poor to be a knight. "Most likely some minor noble of little renown," Eva thought. "the clothes are too fine but not the best. His accent is peculiar, not quite southern, yet definitely southern. He is an enigma, a curiosity..." She knew that she should leave, but like a moth to a flame, there was no turning away.

Ethelbert put pen to paper and continued his journey journal:

Spring, Year 49, Day 3 of the journey:

The long trek has only begun but all is going well, travel has been fast and without interruption. The sun rises over the rolling hills here in Zereth and the journey must continue, no time to waste. I will head in haste to Sabadell: the next step. May stop to preach in Sabadell. No inspiration here in Zereth and many rogues plague the area. Westgard's grip on the region slips, unsafe to preach.

Ethelbert quickly put his journal into his pack and started his day.

-----------------------

Ethelbert put pen to paper and continued his journey journal:

Spring, Year 49, Day 4 of the journey:

I reached Sabadell, rogue forces infested the area. Westgard's control of another region was slipping. Did not stop to preach, too risky.

Spring, Year 49, Day 5 of the journey:

Reached a small village by the name of Frealis in the Northern Watch area of Eidulb Outskirts. Quiet little place along the coast, comprised mostly of fishermen. News of a Westgardian army reaching Sabadell has the villagers quite happy. It is like a great fog of dread has just left the area. Would have been nice to come across the Westgardian army on my way here and get the chance to speak with the nobles. Alas, fortune did not smile upon me today.

Spring, Year 49, Day 6 of the journey:

Spent the day preaching and converting the peasants of Eidulb Outskirts. I lost count after the first 150 conversions but the total must have been over 600. Still much more work to do in the area but the journey takes precedence. In the morning I will make a trip into the city to deliver the first true sermon. Tomorrow will be eventful.

Ethelbert set down the journal and softly blew out the candle's flame.

I replied to this partially on discord but kept forgetting to reply fully to this question here.

How to find player statistics and what is available:

As Zakky said, you can find the player statistics in game. Just go to the information menu, after logging into one of your characters, then in the second column titled "World Information" is a link to "Statistics". The very top link is "player statistics" which, as the title suggests, gives you stats on the player count. The three stats available are registered accounts, weekly activity, and daily activity. Registered accounts are any accounts that are registered even inactive ones. However, the only way an account is not deleted when it goes inactive is if it is at least three months old. Weekly activity is measured by the accounts that have logged into either the game or a character in the past week and daily is the same but for that day.

Active players on specific islands are a different subject. While the admins, and maybe the developers, could have easy access to that type of statistic, it isn't something that most people will be able to tell you. If I had to guess about how many are active daily on Dwilight, I would say about half the active nobles (~200) are active daily.


Current status of the player count:

I have been tracking the player statistics in my own spreadsheet since October 11, 2018. I will just give you a couple numbers pulled from this time frame and let you make your own judgement on what they mean.

(Note: June 23rd is the last day that is recorded. December holidays played a role and January saw the opening of the war island that played a role.)

Average Daily Activity in the Month:

October - 129
November - 130
December - 138
January - 143
February - 135
March - 125
April - 131
May - 135
June - 131

Overall Average - 133
Highest Daily Active - 157 (December)
Lowest Daily Active - 110 (March)

Average Weekly Activity in the Month:

October - 253
November - 258
December - 269
January - 274
February - 270
March - 260
April - 262
May - 260
June - 270

Overall Average - 164
Highest Weekly Active - 285
Lowest Weekly Active -  245


Message Statistics:

Recently added was a stat on message statistics for each realm. This shows the number of messages sent to the realm and the total number of messages sent for each realm over a three day period. If you are looking for an active realm then these stats can help in the decision making process. What this doesn't show though is the type of messages. If you are looking for role-playing for instance then the message stats don't really help that much. A realm may talk a good amount in letters but not do any RPs while another may not talk much in letters but do an above average amount of RPing.

Conclusion:

The game isn't what it once was but this could probably be said for just about every single browser game out there. The numbers suggest the player count is pretty steady with maybe a slight increase.

In the end, the game is still completely playable with the player base despite the islands being a bit too big and there being, generally speaking, too many realms. The main thing is finding the right realm for you.

From discord, posted here to help keep track of feedback.

Jdodger:

my initial reaction is that its going to be much more confusing for new players with those very opaque tab names
the old message system, while imperfect at least is very clear in the intent of the things you need to click on
the new reader is even worse in the same regard
yikes
how is this supposed to improve the game? seems way harder to navigate, much less intuitive


Bronnen:

Excited about the reply to list option


Dodger:

that is definitely a good idea, but one that could be implemented without a bunch of opaque menus and submenus

Tourmaline:

Using it a few time and it makes good sense
I think the order of some tabs should change
like probably Personal should be the first tab
then under Hierarchy I would put Realm and then Military and then rest
What is really missing is a list of everyone in the selection, that is needed
When a message is sent it doesn't say who it was sent to which is weird
What is cool however is now there is a 'Conversation' that was created so I can easily message the same set of people again

jdodger:

New players are not going to use it multiple times in order to figure it out
If myself an only half retarded person who has played this game for years can't look at that and immediately figure out how it works it is way too complicated for new players

Tourmaline:

What do you think would make it more clear or intuitive?

jdodger:

way less submenus
If you're going to have a system where the things you are actually looking for are hidden and you need to click through multiple menus to get to them it requires that the initial clicks are extremely obvious as to their intent which at present they are not
At best when I look at the the initial selection of menus I'm making educated guesses as to what is within those menus. New players aren't even able to make educated guesses so they will be clicking blindly through menus to try to find the appropriate final click to send the message to the person that they want to send it to
The present system, which I do acknowledge is flawed, is not that terrible. at least it puts the Final Destination directly in front of you and while you need to read through a list of things at least it's right there on the same page and you don't need to click multiple times, possibly not even clicking on the correct thing to begin with, to find the Final Destination IE the person or list you actually want to send a message to

Tourmaline:

Well it's like the balance between not enough options visible and too many options visible lol
Like Realm, Council, Duchy, Region can probably be put together
So instead of Hierarchy you have just Realm and Military at the top

jdodger:

I'd rather have everything in front of me where I can see it rather than hidden behind multiple clicks which are not obvious to their intent

Tourmaline:

I really like the tab Organizations however
It's fine for that to be tabulated and more hidden and noobs won't have it anyways
maybe instead of calling it Realm call it General and also put Location under that