Rheatsis tells you, "(( He sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake, he'll pop in
on your mudsex so be good for goodness sakes."
I never thought about that before, but now I am seriously worried this will happen to me. God, what a mood killer that would be. The thing is, Ironbeard would then stand there and watch.
Rheatsis tells you, "(( He sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake, he'll pop in
on your mudsex so be good for goodness sakes."
I never thought about that before, but now I am seriously worried this will happen to me. God, what a mood killer that would be. The thing is, Ironbeard would then stand there and watch.
Maybe a god would posses him and join in?
Ew.
Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.
I occasionally like to pretend that I'm replanting all of these herbs to attract bees, and might one day form an alliance with the bees and take over the Basin. Then we could have a wonderful tea party with plenty of honey and the best tea blends.
You WISH a marvelous clangoru like that would care about your romps. Ironbeard would need a full 20 players, the population of Rockholm and Southgard combined, and Estarra's left sock to be happy.
I have been working on statues for the past 4 hours. -_-
I occasionally like to pretend that I'm replanting all of these herbs to attract bees, and might one day form an alliance with the bees and take over the Basin. Then we could have a wonderful tea party with plenty of honey and the best tea blends.
Gossamer winds whip around you suddenly as the voice of Lisaera, the Silver Goddess reverberates, "Tremula n'Lochli, tainted whelp of the corrupted city, you heard My warning. Now you will look upon the world as I see you - a rotting, squirming maggot whose arrogance has cost her dearly."
You shout, "Even as a maggot she'd still be better looking than you!"
Deafening thunder booms overhead as a searing flash of moonfire speeds across the heavens like a bolt of pale lightning.
Cold moonfire erupts around you in a blazing corona of pale light. The flames roar high and wide, filling your mouth and clawing at your throat, but you feel no pain. The overwhelming sensation of an ancient presence weighing the integrity of your soul endows you with a brief moment of clarity just as a deafening peal of thunder echoes across the heavens. Barely a heartbeat passes before a bolt of silver lightning sears into your flesh, causing the moonfire to consume you entirely. Before your consciousness fades, you see the grey smoke of your remains coiling into the sky and form the outline of the Silver Goddess, Who looks upon you with wrath in Her eyes.
Crumkane, Lord of Epicurean Delights says, "Perhaps My entrances should be more flashy?"
Altrea, Their Hand of Hands says to Crumkane, "Flashy is yesterday's news. If You want to stay 'hip', just walk in!"
Flailing his arms about, you say, "With a shower of gingerbread and a strong breeze smelling like eggnog, Lord Crumkane manifests."
Crumkane, Lord of Epicurean Delights says, "Hmm, let Me try this again."
(probably five minutes pass)
Me thinking: Crap, he fell asleep. Or He's typing out a wall of Eventruesque text.
Everiine said: The reason population is low isn't because there are too many orgs. It's because so many facets of the game are outright broken and protected by those who benefit from it being that way. An overabundance of gimmicks (including game-breaking ones), artifacts that destroy any concept of balance, blatant pay-to-win features, and an obsession with convenience that makes few things actually worthwhile all contribute to the game's sad decline.
(After eating about seventy zillion cupcakes in her fulcrux)
The jaw of the Goddess unhinges, and laughter, childish and echoing, booms painfully from the walls as something undescribable and filled with frosting happens to a massive armful of cupcakes.
Everiine said: The reason population is low isn't because there are too many orgs. It's because so many facets of the game are outright broken and protected by those who benefit from it being that way. An overabundance of gimmicks (including game-breaking ones), artifacts that destroy any concept of balance, blatant pay-to-win features, and an obsession with convenience that makes few things actually worthwhile all contribute to the game's sad decline.
While watching the High Stakes Vengeance game in Celest:
You say, "Why didn't the vigilante kill anyone?"
Glevich Mastvin, The Jabbering Warlock says, "It's one of the quiet ones.. Nelash, Ulien, and then either Elyothine or Gunle."
You say, "He knows who the investigator is. 50/50 shot of picking the right target."
Andala nods her head emphatically.
You hear from within the Vengeance game: Lady Tamthys the Sculptress says, "There are six left. I have named three innocent. There's still Gunle, Elyothine, and Nelash to be considered."
Mysrai throws a vanilla flavoured cup cake with a sugar-spun moth at Enyalida.
You say, "Pick one of the quiet two at random."
Your masochistic tendencies go into remission. You are startled as a vanilla flavoured cup cake with a sugar-spun moth bounces harmlessly off you after being thrown at you by Mysrai.
Within the Pool of Celestial Bodies. Salt water mist hangs in the air, drifting away from a healing shrine of Carakhan nearby. A majestic, white stag with alabaster wings wanders about here, his head held regally. Marked by a band of white feathers, a young eagle awaits its prey here. There are 2 vanilla flavoured cup cakes with a sugar-spun moth here. Silly Lady Andala McCloud is here. She wields an angelic roseblade rapier in each hand. Mysrai, the Urchin in Ivory floats here, surrounded by twisting manifestations of half-realised paradigms. You see exits leading south and northwest.
Mysrai giggles happily.
You peer about yourself unscrupulously.
A leprechaun bends over and picks up a vanilla flavoured cup cake with a sugar-spun moth.
Andala blinks.
Glevich suddenly scoops up a vanilla flavoured cup cake with a sugar-spun moth.
You say, "A moth."
A flurry of ivory blossoms comes loose from Mysrai's hair, swirling about Her playfully, one chasing another and another.
You say, "What."
"stag60914" a majestic, white stag with alabaster wings "eagle206797" a young eagle Number of objects: 2
The Goddess fades away into a shadow, then a dream, then nothing at all.
Rheatsis tells you, "(( He sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake, he'll pop in
on your mudsex so be good for goodness sakes."
I never thought about that before, but now I am seriously worried this will happen to me. God, what a mood killer that would be. The thing is, Ironbeard would then stand there and watch.
Tsk Tsk, you never admit in public to having a mudsex alt, even if everyone knows you're doing it. NEVER. :P
Rheatsis tells you, "(( He sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake, he'll pop in
on your mudsex so be good for goodness sakes."
I never thought about that before, but now I am seriously worried this will happen to me. God, what a mood killer that would be. The thing is, Ironbeard would then stand there and watch.
Tsk Tsk, you never admit in public to having a mudsex alt, even if everyone knows you're doing it. NEVER. :P
Mudsex alts are so 2010. Plus... who cares? Either you're interested and wanted to know who it is... or you're not interested so it shouldn't affect you.
Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.
Rheatsis tells you, "(( He sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake, he'll pop in
on your mudsex so be good for goodness sakes."
I never thought about that before, but now I am seriously worried this will happen to me. God, what a mood killer that would be. The thing is, Ironbeard would then stand there and watch.
Tsk Tsk, you never admit in public to having a mudsex alt, even if everyone knows you're doing it. NEVER. :P
Mudsex alts are so 2010. Plus... who cares? Either you're interested and wanted to know who it is... or you're not interested so it shouldn't affect you.
Psh, who needs a mudsex alt to mudsex. Just be big and bad enough to beat the living crap out of anyone who shit talks you for it..
I occasionally like to pretend that I'm replanting all of these herbs to attract bees, and might one day form an alliance with the bees and take over the Basin. Then we could have a wonderful tea party with plenty of honey and the best tea blends.
Comments
Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.
Ixion tells you, "// I don't think anyone else had a clue, amazing form."
oh noooooo
Estarra the Eternal says, "Give Shevat the floor please."
Gossamer winds whip around you suddenly as the voice of Lisaera, the Silver Goddess reverberates, "Tremula n'Lochli, tainted whelp of the corrupted city, you heard My warning. Now you will look upon the world as I see you - a rotting, squirming maggot whose arrogance has cost her dearly."
You shout, "Even as a maggot she'd still be better looking than you!"
Deafening thunder booms overhead as a searing flash of moonfire speeds across the heavens like a bolt of pale lightning.
Cold moonfire erupts around you in a blazing corona of pale light. The flames roar high and wide, filling your mouth and clawing at your throat, but you feel no pain. The overwhelming sensation of an ancient presence weighing the integrity of your soul endows you with a brief moment of clarity just as a deafening peal of thunder echoes across the heavens. Barely a heartbeat passes before a bolt of silver lightning sears into your flesh, causing the moonfire to consume you entirely. Before your consciousness fades, you see the grey smoke of your remains coiling into the sky and form the outline of the Silver Goddess, Who looks upon you with wrath in Her eyes.
You have been slain by Lisaera.
Totally worth it.
(Black Lullaby): Tremula says, "Well, Eventru came back as Crumkane."
I was totally thinking the same thing, haha.
Altrea, Their Hand of Hands says to Crumkane, "Flashy is yesterday's news. If You want to stay 'hip',
just walk in!"
Flailing his arms about, you say, "With a shower of gingerbread and a strong breeze smelling like
eggnog, Lord Crumkane manifests."
Crumkane, Lord of Epicurean Delights says, "Hmm, let Me try this again."
(probably five minutes pass)
Me thinking: Crap, he fell asleep. Or He's typing out a wall of Eventruesque text.
The jaw of the Goddess unhinges, and laughter, childish and echoing, booms painfully from the walls
as something undescribable and filled with frosting happens to a massive armful of cupcakes.
You say, "Why didn't the vigilante kill anyone?"
Glevich Mastvin, The Jabbering Warlock says, "It's one of the quiet ones.. Nelash, Ulien, and then either Elyothine or Gunle."
You say, "He knows who the investigator is. 50/50 shot of picking the right target."
Andala nods her head emphatically.
You hear from within the Vengeance game:
Lady Tamthys the Sculptress says, "There are six left. I have named three innocent. There's still Gunle, Elyothine, and Nelash to be considered."
Mysrai throws a vanilla flavoured cup cake with a sugar-spun moth at Enyalida.
You say, "Pick one of the quiet two at random."
Your masochistic tendencies go into remission.
You are startled as a vanilla flavoured cup cake with a sugar-spun moth bounces harmlessly off you after being thrown at you by Mysrai.
Within the Pool of Celestial Bodies.
Salt water mist hangs in the air, drifting away from a healing shrine of Carakhan nearby. A majestic, white stag with alabaster wings wanders about here, his head held regally. Marked by a band of white feathers, a young eagle awaits its prey here. There are 2 vanilla flavoured cup cakes with a sugar-spun moth here. Silly Lady Andala McCloud is here. She wields an angelic roseblade rapier in each hand. Mysrai, the Urchin in Ivory floats here, surrounded by twisting manifestations of half-realised paradigms.
You see exits leading south and northwest.
Mysrai giggles happily.
You peer about yourself unscrupulously.
A leprechaun bends over and picks up a vanilla flavoured cup cake with a sugar-spun moth.
Andala blinks.
Glevich suddenly scoops up a vanilla flavoured cup cake with a sugar-spun moth.
You say, "A moth."
A flurry of ivory blossoms comes loose from Mysrai's hair, swirling about Her playfully, one chasing another and another.
You say, "What."
"stag60914" a majestic, white stag with alabaster wings
"eagle206797" a young eagle
Number of objects: 2
The Goddess fades away into a shadow, then a dream, then nothing at all.
Andala blinks.
(Serenwilde): Mrav says, "Eat them."
(Serenwilde): Selenity says, "No."
(Serenwilde): Selenity says, "You empower them."
(Serenwilde): Mrav says, "With some ice cream."
Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.