June 29 2014

Gladiator Wars Commercial by Blaquerogue

Lord Baldrith here with a commercial from blaquerogue about the Gladiator Wars idea on Shroud of the Avatar forums.  Here is a link to the forum post:

https://www.shroudoftheavatar.com/forum/index.php?threads/arena-gladiator-tourneys-gladiator-games.11874/#post-201473

Here is the commercial:

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June 29 2014

Some updates from Echoes of the Caverns!

Few updates over at Echoes from the Caverns (Podcasts directed and produced by Lord Balddrith and the New Britannia Theater Troupe).

Updated the Casts page with some additional contributing artists.

Also added an “advertisement page”. This will be for people that submit advertisements. That may be guild advertisements, in game events, really anything! These can be pre-recorded and submitted or Lord Baldrtih can be asked to do them. Note that at this time, time permitting Lord Baldrith is doing these as time allows and the like. He can choose to skip doing any of them if they may be political or any other concern – and if we have to many of them time constraints may prevent them from being done!  Once we are playing the game his time is going to be more valuable so its possible we might charge a gold fee to compensate from lost time in game for it sortta thing (but if that comes about it would be fair.. just if hes loosing an hour of game time – what does that equate into sortta thing).

For now though its not a burden and we love to help the community all we can!

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June 28 2014

Not A Princess But A Drow-Written by Ariela-Narrated by Lord Baldrith

Hello Everyone…A great poem by Ariela here!  I’m narrating from a female point of view 🙂

Here is the text:

Not a Princess, but a Drow By Ariella

I am not a writer and really never put pen to paper. Please forgive any and all errors within my story.

~Runs hands through her hair, slightly brushing the tip of her pointed ear, contemplating on where to begin her tail. Oh uh, I mean tale~

Growing up in the middle of two sisters and a younger brother, you learn very quickly how to look after yourself. In my family, it was hard to be noticed and even harder to be heard. Mother, well, she just loved and devoted herself to her little Princess and Prince. While my father, tried to work himself to death and never having time or patients for children. Neither, never having time for anything or anyone else. Yes, I did not forget, I have an older sister, well lets just say we never got along and leave it at that. Soon I found myself leaving home, attaching myself to a man who I though was the sun, the moon and the stars. Little did I know and how wrong I was. At first, he was kind and even loving, so much so I dedicated my life to him. Blinded by the attention and my love for him, I would moved across the world for him. Having isolated me from what little family or friends I had, and isolating me from anyone speaking the same language, he slowly began to change into the monster I would come to hate, wholeheartedly. First it was not noticeable, just little sayings “Don’t laugh so much”; “don’t ware your hair that way”; “why is he talking to you”; No, you can’t get a job, “No, do not do that”, “why do you have to have green eyes, I just hate green eyes”, just “No” for no reason at all. Never a complement, always a cut down. Little more time passes, getting more aggressive. Becoming a possession, not a person, just a thing he could control and keep down. Then finally the physical aspect and breaking whatever soul I had left. That is when I found David Eddings, (No, not Tolkien, you may have thought but no he was not my fist fantasy author to read. Actually, I did not read Tolkien until many many moons later). Eddings was it. I will always have a special place for him in my heart. (Yes, I have a heart!!) Over time, books became a portal, an escape from the misery, which became my life. Then one day, I came across a drow, who changed my life forever. I adventured with him in his world. He taught me to be strong, to have confidence in myself. Slowly he gave me my soul back, but it was a drow soul. I had so much hatred in me. I trusted no one. He taught me how to defend myself, to watch out for other. It became a matter of life and death. I began to fight back. It was going to me or the monster. . I told myself “No one, most of all no monster, will ever keep me down ever again”. After years of hate and distrust, I knew something had to change. I did not like what I was becoming, I wanted to walk in the light, I wanted to be on the surface. I wanted a breath fresh air. Then one day he wanted to leave the underdark, If he can leave the underdark then why can’t I. He helped me find that day I walked out of that dreaded underworld I was in and I was NEVER to go back!! Laugh as you may, to think a character in a book could change someone’s life. Books are very powerful devices! ~Takes deep breaths. ~ Shudders at the memories of the underdark. Life goes on, I never notice how my life became so empty. Until, until that day I found a computer game called Ultima Online, that game would open a whole new world for me, for Ariella. Still not trusting to let anyone close to me. I watched other, saw how they interacted with each other. Slowly, I was learning to be on the surface, I ventured out and met others, cautiously but letting them near me, just a little at a time. Which was not easy for me to do, even when you are on computer game. But over the years of playing, I notice, I began to change, began to heal, becoming part of a community, becoming part of a family I so much needed. I laughed and I cried with others. The wall I had around my heart began to crumble. To eventually trust and love again. How wonderful it is to be alive and to be on the surface.

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June 28 2014

Echoes From the Caverns 6-27-14

Hello Everyone!  Lord Baldrith here with the Newscast.  Sorry it’s a day off due to website upgrades!  Big yippee to that!  Hope everyone is enjoying R7!

 

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June 20 2014

Greenfields Written by Jivalax-Narrated by Lord Baldrith

Hello everyone!  Here is a wonderful story by Jivalax entitled Greenfields.  Awesome story!

Here is the text:

Greenfields-By Jivalax You want to know where I’m going? Well, first, you gotta know where I’ve been. Many years ago when I was a young man, just after I had seen my first war, I was discharged and set free upon the world with coins in my purse, armor on my back and a sword at my hip. Like many young men who survive something dangerous I felt invincible. I decided to follow my feet to whatever adventure they might lead. Maybe it was my nana’s fault; she filled my head with stories of brave warriors, cunning wizards and fearsome beasts from the time I was in the cradle until I left for the war. “Be brave,” she said, “you never know where adventure will lead you.” So, with the exuberance of youth and a weapon in hand, off I went to find my fortune. That first year was hard. I went from town to town picking off random monsters and bandits as opportunity allowed. But, with a good steed and a building reputation, I was confident fame and fortune were all but in hand. It was during this time of naiveté that fate led me to the tiny thorp of Greenfields. No, don’t bother looking for it on any maps. You won’t find it. It’s naught but a handful of crude huts and an inn. I know, I know, you’re thinking, ‘why would such a small little place have an inn.’ I thought that too, but after you’ve spent a few days sleeping on the ground, you don’t spit at good fortune. So I rode up to the inn, a rather well kept place really, larger than you’d expect. Dismounted and tied my horse to the rail. It wasn’t until that moment that I really noticed the other horses tied there. Ratty old things. But, big boned. The more I looked, the more it seemed these creatures were old warhorses. You know, the kind that wore plate barding and carried knights into battle. Well, these things were a decade out of any kind of service and had been in their prime sometime before that. Not that it is terribly unusual to see old military mounts repurposed as plow horses and given to farmers, but these particular creatures looked to be almost as much scar as horse. Oh the battles they must have seen. Now, they were probably too old to even pull a plow. As I stepped onto the porch of the inn, one of the horses turned a dead eyed stare at me. I stumbled back a bit and reached for my sword. I would never have admitted it at the time, but if I’m being honest now, I will. That horse had probably seen more death than I had. The thing actually scared me a little. Imagine that, me being scared of a horse, and an old broken down one at that. But I got over it; it was just a horse after all, and stepped into the inn. Inside the place was clean and remarkably well stocked for a tavern in the middle of nowhere. The candles and fire cast a dim, flickering light on everything inside, but it wasn’t unpleasant, rather, it felt cozy. Warm and safe really. A quick survey of the place showed me a handful of grey-headed patrons all of whom gave me a disinterested glance and went back to their own business. The bartender, a large – but solid – balding man of increasing years, smiled and waved me over. “Beautiful place you have here. Really glad I found it.” I have found it is very helpful to be polite and it costs nothing. “Thank you. Bit of childhood dream to own a place like this. What can I get you stranger?” He favored me with a large smile that seemed genuine, but also included a hint that shenanigans would not be tolerated. “A drink to start with and some information. You see, I am a man of adventure,” yeah, I really was that silly back then, “Are there any problems you might need a sword swinger to solve? Bandits in the area perhaps? Monsters?” The barman seemed to warm considerably and smiled as if barely able to hold in a secret. “No, this is a calm little community. There is nothing here any monsters or bandits want. But have a mug on me, friend.” He slid a tankard of brew across the counter to me as he continued to eye me with a smile. But, as you know, everybody needs to make a living and I am not one to rely on the generosity of others. “Could I get some food as well?” I asked, sliding a few coins back in his direction. He gave me a hearty chuckle and soon produced a plate containing a big T-bone steak, baked potato with sour cream, and roasted asparagus on the side. Now mind you, at the time I had never seen such fine fare. Growing up on the farm we only ate beef when a cow died, and roasted veggies were for royalty. Even the army officers didn’t eat so well. I was sure the pitiful coins I had passed him wouldn’t cover the meal, but he refused to take another penny. I had barely finished blessing my food when I noticed a tug on my cloak. I turned to find this nice old woman mending a tear I had garnered some weeks earlier. She smiled up at me with a kindness that melted me. I missed my nana so, and this woman looked somehow familiar. “There you go young man. All better. I’m a tailor. I can mend things,” she crooned.

“Maggie, let the nice man eat his meal,” the bartender said. He looked at me and twitched his hand near his head indicating the woman was perhaps a bit daft. Maggie patted my shoulder and toddled off repeating, “I’m a tailor.” “She’s a kind woman,” I said. The barman smiled and nodded. “Don’t let your steak get cold.” Pay attention now, I’m going somewhere with this. As I looked over toward Maggie it struck me why she looked so familiar. Remember I said how Nana had told me those stories? Well in her story book there were pictures. Have you heard about Margaret of the North? AKA the Sorceress of the North, well Maggie looked like her great grandma. It really made me miss Nana. Just before I was done with my meal, the door flew open and this mountain of meat walked in. He was a young man, even younger than me, but twice my size. His arms were bigger than my legs and I’m sure stronger too. I was no wimp, but this guy was big. And big trouble I judged by how he swaggered to the bar and slammed his ham-sized hand down hard on the counter. “Barkeep, fetch me the best swill you have in this rat infested hole!” he bellowed. To his credit, the bartender didn’t seem at all impressed or intimidated. He simply reached for a tankard, filled it and passed it over. The big guy took a long pull then looked around the inn. “Any of you geezers got daughters or will I be taking your haggish wives to bed tonight?” Now, normally I don’t go for such language, especially around women. I considered inviting this brute outside to discuss proper manners with him. Two things stopped me. One, he was huge, as I’ve said. But, I’ve fought bigger. The second though made my gut knot and my blood turn cold. The patrons of that inn didn’t cower in fear or hustle off and hope there was no violence. In fact, they all just stared at the big man. Stared appraising, in the way a farmer looks at a sheep when he has decided his next meal will be mutton. The big man actually looked a little concerned for a minute. Finally an old man stood, with some effort, and threw off his cloak. He was wearing the most ridiculous outfit. It was one like the actors wear when they are telling the story of Kalvi the Destroyer. You know the one, the big muscle bound guy, raised as a slave, trained as a gladiator, became a king. Anyway, I figured this grandpa used to be some kind of actor. The armor didn’t even fit him. It was way too big for him, but even at his age he was tall enough that it seemed clear it used to fit. “You’d better be going now sonny. Nobody here wants to hurt you. Just walk away.” The big guy laughed uproariously. “You fogies need to be taught a lesson!” he yelled as he took a step. The old man in the costume closed the distance and poked the big guy right in the eye! As the man let out a yelp, the greyhair punched him in the throat. The big man hunched over gasping, both hands to his neck. I had no more comprehended what happened when this blast of freezing cold roared past me and crashed into the big guy turning him to solid ice and pitching him through the door the way a child would throw a small toy. Maggie brushed frost from her hair and the table in front of her. “I’m a tailor.” “Oh Maggie. Why’d you have to ruin another door?” the bartender asked. The old man in the – not so silly anymore – armor said, “Don’t worry. I can make you a new one. I’m a carpenter.” “Of course you are Kalvin, and I’m a bartender.” Then he looked at me. “And you, young man, are welcome back, when you’re ready.” I fled from that inn. I was terrified at the time. I thought I knew all there was to know, and seeing that I didn’t, scared me to death. But it didn’t stop me. You know I’ve made a fortune, lost it and made another. I’ve been everywhere and seen everything. I’ve killed enough men and monsters to run the river red from here to creation. I got nothing to prove to anybody. You can have the castle and the kingdom and knights and their horses. I’m done. Carry on with the petty wars, the politics, the drama, the intrigue and the lies – or not, I don’t care. I’ve got no belly for it anymore. You asked me where I was going. I’m going to Greenfields. I’m a farmer.

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June 20 2014

Echoes From the Caverns 6-20-14

Hi Everyone!  Lord Baldrith here with an exciting week in the news!  Still short yet somehow it’s very exciting to see the positive publicity for our awesome and EPIC game!  Hope you enjoy this weeks newscast!  Thanks again to Sir Stile Teckel for all the work you do on the website and podcasts!  Thanks to Amber Raine for Avatars Radio and the broadcasting of these podcasts and stories.

 

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June 13 2014

Echoes From the Caverns 6-13-14

Hello Everyone Lord Baldrith here with the news!  Happy Friday the 13th!  Hope you enjoy the news this week…Kind of short, but nevertheless exciting!

 

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