:: The Lands of Turmish ::

:: Tuesday, March 18, 2003 ::

racking silently, Midesis mounted the steps of the great ancient castle in front of him. He knew what he must do, and reaching into the small leather sack that hung around his neck, he withdrew a small glass vial. Drinking the potion, he was pleased to note that his arm became translucent. He grinned to himself - this was far too easy, the gypsy woman had provided him with enough of the vials that he was able to enter the dark castle interior, and using his newly found skills as a rogue, he slipped silently down the corridors. After walking for what seemed hours, his first test came as he rounded a corner. Light spilled onto the floor in front of him, light from a room to the left, and he could now clearly make out the guttural sounds emanating from within. Creeping slowly up the corridor, ensuring that his back was pressed to the wall as much as possible, he slowly crossed the threshold, and witnessed a number of Minotaur guards gambling within. Feeling his pulse quicken as he tried to withdraw in as much breath as possible - as if the breath alone was visible to the guards, Mideses crept slowly passed the doorway, and daren't breath until he was almost two turns past the door. So the potion worked, he felt overwhelmed that this was so extremely simple - all he had to do was locate the chests that were known to be deep in the crypts, use the lockpicking tool he purchased earlier from the market, and escape with riches he could only dream of. After many hours of similar encounters, Mideses finally located the entrance of the crypt. Taking another swig from the vial, he descended the stairway and slipped silently into the tomb below the castle, the tomb that was rumored to contain the riches he sought. Stealthily he crept on his soft leather soled moccasins, leaving the barest of traces in the old dust that had laid over the centuries on the floor, his keen roguish senses determining the most secure, the most likely location for the right chest that might hold his goal. Using the procured lock pick, he checked for traps around the rusty lock, and finding only a small poison dart that he withdrew carefully, he set to work with the task of unlocking the chest. Busy working at his task, he failed to notice the slight change behind him. Had he not been so focused, he might have noticed the slight draught went suddenly still. Had he been more experienced he might have seen the telltale signs that all veteran members of the thieves’ guild fail to forget. A burning, itching sensation across his neck followed by a strange pressure surprised him first. His last thoughts were surprise at where the dark liquid had suddenly appeared from, the dark, warm, bubbling liquid that seemed to emanate from his midriff. Darkness quickly followed. The dark lord smiled at the acute expression on the halflings face as he died. Reaching down he drank deep of the intruders essence. Suddenly, he felt sated. This world was far richer than he had originally thought. His plan was finally yielding the fruits - his patience was finally paying off.

:: Alt Quark 11:21 PM [+] ::
...

was the night before Christmas, across Turmish Lands Not a creature was stirring, no user demands The giants were slain, all lay dead in the woods No users were playing , not even to shift goods The goblins were sleeping, tucked up in their beds With visions of slaughter and pillage in their heads Even the dwarf in Karunth was a-sleeping No user online, no characters were meeting I was planning on settling to rest myself When along popped an odd, very strange looking elf I sprang from my seat to inquire on this chap To find out why this elf was in a flap "Come quick" he exclaimed "you must come now We have lots of problems that only you know-how You must come instantly, come fix our mess The tradeskills aren't working, alaghon is BS The tunnels of Iuz are too hard to play And the quests in the badlands are in a terribly array You must not stay here, to go to sleep You must come fix this and do general upkeep" Well, to be honest, my freinds I did not know how But I pulled myself up and leading me I allowed Him to take me to the areas where he pointed out The errors I had cobbled together throughout The year the servers had been up and running And the modules were obviously broke from the juggling He showed me the lack of lapis of late The lich that turned piggy that had him frustrate He showed me how hard certain levels of the tower Were to players less experienced and much, much younger "Enough" I cried as his list grew longer "What do you want, to kill me ? please answer This server, I admit is a terrible state And if you are frustrated, I understand your hate But believe me my freind I wish to explain Why I understand everyone out has pain But the module itself has grown to be huge And the complaints come to me in a deluge It breaks many others if I fix one item And those, believe me could be far more gruesome Well the elf, he just yabbered and flabbered to me there And complained, turning blue, barely gasping for air I tried to dash away, dashed away all But elven boots of speed kept up with my footfall Eventually I tired of this poor users lament So I turned him into a penguin, which was not my intent The bug from Bioware caused my system to crash And this caused my sudden backlash But the user stopped complaining, and started to squawk So I unleashed a balrog, a lich and a hedgehog When I returned to Karunth and retired on the hour I thought long and hard about those players so dour And once more as I was about to take a nap I heard a huge crash, and rushed to the window ASAP And out on the cobbles, you would not believe I saw eight reindeer if you could conceive They were standing in the square in just plain sight With some fat guy in a carriage calling into the night I lifted my window and into the air I shouted "hey you, what are you doing there" He laughed in my face, that man dressed in red It annoyed me so much I once more left my bed "Do you know what time it is now For you to be creating such a terrible row" He did not seem to care who I was He replied his name was Santa Clause And tonight he'd be owing me a real treat For being such a nasty DM and a cheat A piece of coal he'd leave in my stocking Unless I'd darn well stop the users from fuming This stopped me from fireballing him there on the spot And made me stop and think quite a lot Indeed the server had terrible mistakes And maybe as DM I should listen to player headaches Indeed the quests should be fixed and so should the journals And to help the users rather and treat them as equals The server, indeed could well be bug free And no more crashes or wipes so beastly And lots of adventures i'd introduce on the spot And quests galore and character plots Yes indeed, that St Nick made me think About all that I'd done, a terrible stink Suddenly out of the shadows, a Red Death Champion appeared And caught poor santa off guard I fear To save that fat man, I cast Time Stop And a number of spells that I almost forgot I blasted that lich back to the tomb whence he came And santa thanked me again and again "you're not a bad DM" he exclaimed over to me "after all, you provide the service for free" As I watched those reindeer jump into the sky And heard santas whip and his cry ‘Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!' I watched the sleigh fly into the night Until it disappeared far out of sight I retired to bed, no more feelings of doubt Crossed into my mind as I put the lights out For indeed the best christmas gift I'd given Was the free server for those Neverwinter players to live in Merry Christmas !!!

:: Alt Quark 2:22 AM [+] ::
...

he tobacco in the pipe glowed for a whie as Moris took a draw. "Ah, yes, I remember the days of old" he started - he slowly rocked in his chair thinking back into the past, blowing the smoke toward the air, as the gathered group knelt next to him, eager to hear the story of the Tomb of Iuz. Moris leaned forward, the campfire etching the shadows in his elderly face, he took the pipe from his mouth and stared into the glowing embers. "Parents teach their young the story of the wizard, 'beware' they will say 'for the wizard watches your very back' - ah, a tale indeed to keep the young in check, but there are tales of fact that accompany this legend, tales of a Wizard that was taken by his own greed to the darker side of Magik.". The rocking motion now slowed as Moris took another draw on the pipeweed - then blew the smoke toward the fire, creating images that the group saw as an image of a skull, hanging for an instant, then disappearing into the night. "Aye - wizard he was, one of the greatest in fact, Acererak was his name. He grew up here in Iuz itself - and I remember the tales of a promising young lad - someone the elders viewed as an asset to the town itself. He went to the University in Karunth I beleive - went there to study, to become a master of his art - aye, but he did more than that, learnt more than just wizardart indeed. He learnt of the darker side - the black magic - and he savoured it. Now, there are many wizards who learn the dark arts - as many as those of the light, but Acererak wanted to learn more, and some say he traded his very soul to learn. Soon the wizard became the greatest force in the University, and sooner still he became a known man across the lands - but people started to fear him, fear what he had become, and he took this as a sign that he was no longer wanted amongst the race of man. He disappeared soon after that - no one knows where he went for those years, but no-one really cared, everyone had things to do, lives to live, and one dark wizard was of little note. But after a span of 12 years, he returned - and sought out the Kingdom of Turmish as his own. Aye - indeed, the rogue battled and murdered those who would stand against him, until eventually all we could do was allow him to be master of all he surveyed - and this was not good enough for him. King Acererak the First - Rule of Turmish to the Sea of Fallen Stars - he used his dark arts to control the citizens of this land, and spread plague and disease across the face of the kingdom. Oh he was a bad one, mark me words - a bad one indeed. We suffered - what else could we do back then ? We suffered but we plotted a revolution. The Underguild grew tired of this dictator, and forged relationships with the City of Alaghon. Soon an army was amassed on the borders of Whittershins - and a battle was fought there amongst the forests and woods of Whittershins. Much blood was shed - aye, much blood indeed - but it was a valiant battle. A group of dwarves fought valiantly through the mass of dark forces, and sought Acererak out himself. They slaughtered him on the field of battle, and took back the crown of Turmish - but through their celebrations, agents of the dark carried off the body of the slain wizard and placed him in a tomb near here. They placed traps throughout the tomb, and some say that Acererak still walks the halls there - sometimes venturing out, looking for children of those who killed him to take back to the dark places under the mountain." Moris stared slowly amongst the group - looking deep into the eyes of the frightened listeners "Ha !" - they jumped at his call -"Childs fables, infant stories - I wouldn't worry about it anymore, its not as if any dead wizard is going to stop young adventurers like yourselves from finding the treasures of the tomb......"

:: Alt Quark 12:18 PM [+] ::
...

he dark shadows moved over the face of the half-orc, his hand holding tight to the pommel of his sword. “by Tyr’s breath, this dungeon keep is tougher and more plagued than I though” thought Kraal. For many hours, the warrior had been attempting to trace back to the surface using the barest of lightsource to distinguish the markings he had left earlier – but a large group of Kobolds had disturbed one of the signs he had left behind, and he was worried that instead of moving closer to the surface, instead he was moving further into the dank crypt that he entered. How many hours had it been? He really had no idea whether the day was still the same as before – whether in fact the week was the same. His rations were becoming lower and lower, and he had not remembered how many he had originally brought. All this work to find Tinstone ore for the Jeweler that had requested his services – and he hadn’t found any of the element yet. Those Kobolds were nasty as well, they could easily have overrun him but for his agility and a certain amount of luck coming across a small stream. Being so deep under the ground, it was probably not worth thinking about what had been trickling so deep – especially if something as base as a Kobold feigned to cross. Now Kraal was coming through a well lit corridor, a patch of darkness ahead revealing a larger chamber. He was certain that he had never seen this chamber before, but after all, he could rest there and maybe think hard about the direction he would choose next. Relieving his back of the pack and his weapons, it was a small comfort at least to gain some rest. Kraal opened his pack, and bit the jerky that made up most of his provisions. Slowly chewing, he placed the pack into one corner of the room, and arranged the rubble around the room to provide him with some cover. As he was manipulating the room, he noticed a small stone – wedged between some broken furniture. He looked closely at the small stone, noticing a small figure etched on the surface. After carefully feeling around the stone, and looking at the markings, he put the stone into his pocket, and went on preparing his camp. Soon, Kraal dropped off to a long, deep sleep in the corner of the room, his arm by his sword, camouflaged by debris collected in the room. A noise awakened him. His eyes peered into the darkness, searching for the noise. Nothing. He became fully awake now, reaching out for his sword. No noise. Silence. Kraal shifted his weight, looking around the chamber from his corner for any sign of danger. Again, louder this time, he heard something. A tap, or a knock of some sort – emanating from the corridor he traversed earlier. Kraal tried to move, but something had held him fast, a growth perhaps, something dark had trapped him into a space that was no longer a part of the room he was in before. In horror, the tapping grew louder. From the position he was in, he watched a strange beast enter the room from the corner, the sharp claws tapping slowly along the stone floor as it entered the room. It stopped, looking directly at the corner that Kraal was in before, before resuming its sniffing and slow movement around the room. Kraal was petrified, here was a beast he had never seen before, large hooks for claws and a lizard-like face searching, he knew, for its next meal. And yet, here he was, trapped it seemed behind the wall itself. As the horror traveled around the room, it suddenly came across Kraal’s pack. Inches, it seemed, from Kraal’s face, it bent low and used its long hooked claws to open the pack. Kraal barely breathed. In one hand he held his shortsword – the other, he used to feel around him to see what had trapped him so. Suddenly, he felt something tight against his leg – feeling slowly with his hand, he felt the stone in his pocket that he had forgot he had placed there earlier. His thumb brushed the markings. Light emanated from the stone, bluish revealing its magical markings. The beast suddenly looked up, looking straight at Kraal, it sniffed the wall where the half-orc was trapped behind. Barely moving, Kraal gripped his sword tighter, and prepared to be eaten by the evil creature in front of him. But the pain never came. The creature moved around to the other side of the room, and slowly moved out into the corridor. Kraal breathed a sigh of relief, but still wondered whether he would be trapped forever inside the wall. He tried to move around, but realized that the only movement he had was with his arms. His legs seemed to no longer work, seemed to be part of the stone itself. But the wall felt like vapour to his hands – seeming to allow his hand to drift through it as if it were smoke. But he could neither move his legs nor move his torso. After a few minutes, to allow the hook horror time to move far from the room, he tried harder and harder to move. Nothing seemed to happen. It was as if he were part of the wall forever. After a while, he stopped, worrying that this was the end of his life, praying to Tyr to be benevolent on his spirit. Then, in the darkness, a light started to glow softly. It was as if the light had been there all that time, around his hand, around his face, a soft blue light emanated and grew stronger with each passing moment. As he watched, transfixed, his entire body began to become transparent, dissolving into the ether. Suddenly, a horrific noise took his attention away, and he looked once more at the Hook Horror, who had returned to the room, and was now running toward him, toward the wall, ready to break it down – obviously the monstrous apparition could see the light glowing from within the wall, could sense the magic. Then everything went dark – and without knowing how, Kraal was standing in a cold sweat in the marketplace of Karunth. His heart pumping, he gripped his sword, swinging it wildly in front of him, fleetingly worried that this apparition was an illusion to trick him. A small crowd gathered around him, awed by a vision of the half-orc which had manifested before them. Kraal sheathed his weapon, and with a satisfying feeling to be once more free, walked toward the house of Jarius the Jeweler who had originally dispatched him on his quest. “I’ll have words with that Elf”, he thought to himself…

:: Alt Quark 9:33 PM [+] ::
...

oday is the largest, most important day for The Turmish Lands. It is also a sad day, for I am sure we will no longer be seeing many of you again. As many of you know, our policy has been to try and create an online game similar to AD&D in the Spirit of Ultima Online. One of the most important and significant reasons behind Ultima is the ability to craft items. Today, we introduce the Ambrosia Tradeskill system into Karunth - but unfortunately, some major changes had to occur. The most significant change was that we went through a serverwipe. All player characters across the server was wiped today at 10.00pm EST due to incompatibilities with this new system. This, I am sure, will anger many, but we chose to stick with this for many reasons. Primarily, the Turmish Lands has been growing steadily over the past few months. A lot of players have become very attached to their characters - which we always wished for. However, to grow the server functionality and use further, it is important to sometimes make a clean break, and tonights issues caused us to travel this path. I wish to share the path we went through this evening. As I loaded the locally tested new module with the new scripts, we found that the server crashed several times in a very short span. I moved the module back to a backup - but it was already too late, characters themselves were corrupted and no prior backup worked. As you can all imagine, the number of players that eagerly jumped onto the server also snowballed the issue to such a degree, that it was just not possible to reliably pick through user accounts looking for "corrupt" characters. The Servervault was up to 4442 accounts with more than 9000 player characters. A lot of these characters and accounts had not been used for a long time, and it was certainly a good opportunity to "clean house" This is the first time that The Turmish Lands has gone through a serverwipe. This is actually an amazing feat, since the server has been running since June 6th - and the modules have grown and changed so significantly between then and now, that I am surprised that we have just not seen more issues. Of course, we have seen player characters become corrupt - but usually this was extremely rare - approximately no more than 1 PC every 2 weeks. Treat this wipe as an opportunity - an opportunity to create a new character in a new game. Turmish Lands is very close indeed to Ultima standards now, and with the new server transitions to Alaghon and soon to Gulthmere, the size of the server will increase dramatically. For those that cannot join us - you will be sorely missed. This has been a difficult decision, and one not taken lightly, but I personally will understand if you choose to part from Turmish at this juncture. The new world has a lot to offer, and quests will become more and more complex, more and more diverse, supporting more and more different players. Thankyou, AltQuark

:: Alt Quark 10:48 PM [+] ::
...

"re we going to the meeting tonight or not ? What with my poor aching feet, I’d rather be sat here in the Dragonfly Inn than have to get involved in politics this evening”. The other dwarf looked up from his ale, an arched eyebrow cocked at his colleagues obviously blatant, and rather loose tongues. “First of all” Quin shot back in a stern whisper, “you shouldn’t be blathering information regarding the clan in an obviously unsecure area – and secondly we need to be there” Quin took a moment to sip from his ale “the elders have an important announcement to make, and I for one wish to see what ignorant claims they have this evening, so yes, Fearface, we WILL be going there this evening, whether your feet hurt or not”. To this answer, Fearface sat stonefaced watching his ale, aware of the faux pas that he had delivered in front of his elder colleague. “Well, just as long as we’re not there all eve” he silently shot back. Within the hour, the dwarves were to be found making their way to the northern Dock district, where the “clan” house was to be found. An eye for detail would have noticed that both dwarves were steadily weaving as they moved, obviously from the effects of a certain amount of alcohol that they had been imbibing throughout the earlier part of the evening. Soon both Quin and Fearface reached a plain door in the Northern Docks. “Crom, I’d soon hope no one has seen us this evening – after all, all underworld members of Karunth are to be here this eve, and you know that the instructions were not to allow the guard to find out about this meeting” whispered Fearface to his colleague, as he struggled through his pack to find a small token that indicated membership of this elite “clan” brotherhood. “Bah, most of the city watch ARE members of our Brotherhood, you rockheaded planteater – come on, find that key will you, its cold out here”. Fearface found what he was looking for, placed the key gently into the lock and opened the door to the Clanhouse. Inside, had anyone been able to see from the street, it looked very much like a normal house interior – very plainly decorated. Carefully, the two dwarves closed the door behind them, and moved steadily over to a bureau set against a wall. Opening the doors of the bureau revealed a small passage with steps closely together leading down into a cavern below the house. The two dwarves picked their way down into the lower levels of the guild. “Halt, earthmover, show your token” stated a highly armoured individual, barring a door in the dank dark chamber below. Fearface displayed the key to the individual, who after taking a long look at the token, moved aside and triggered the door behind to unlock for the friends. The dwarves moved into the central chamber, the inner workings of the Clan of the Underworld….

:: Alt Quark 10:11 PM [+] ::
...

embers of the Free Council held the man firm in one of the chairs. They could not stop him from thrashing about, he had been drinking wildly for a number of days now after all. “I tell you, I’ve been there! It’s, well, it’s much like this room but all the Gods where there, not this council. Each of the thirty gods had a chair like that one over there of Helms.” “But you must understand” , said Sorien, “that Helm himself doesn’t really site there. Those are reserved for the Clerics of the deities. The Clerics are only here to observe and inform us in the ways of their deities. They only truly vote when the Free Council is deadlocked in vote.” “It all seemed so real”, the man said. “I was there, I was in Memnethia. How I came to be here in Alaghon I just can’t not recall.” Gorfin looks at the man disquietingly. “Look here you drunk, we can’t have you running around the city spreading wild rumors of a long dead city and of all the gods sitting in a room having a nice little chat. It’s very apparent that you are delusional from your most recent binge. If you don’t cease and desist spreading these rumors you will soon find yourself in our jails. Is that clear?” The man sighs and looks around the room for a bottle of ale. “It was just so clear, you could feel the magic within the place it was like, well, like a dream . . .” “Just let him go” Sorien decided. “Post some mercenaries to him to make sure he stops his jabbering. If he doesn’t, we’ll lock him up for a bit to dry out. Agreed?” All of the Free Council members in the court nod their heads in agreement. “Very well then. Guards, escort this man out of the court.” The guards carry the man out of the Free Council Court and, not so carefully, shove the man out the door. After he picks himself up off the ground after falling down the stairs outside the Free Council Court, not that he actually fell but was rather assisted to the ground by the guards, he heads straight off towards the Dragon Fly Inn with a mighty thirst for ale. He reminds himself to try and not mention his most recent visit to Memnethia again and now wonders insistently about an offer one of the clerics in town gave to him about finding some kind of gem in the crypts. He most assuredly would take up this offer but first, another ale is in order.

:: Alt Quark 4:23 PM [+] ::
...