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 March 25, Monday |
| Talks about The foundation of moral decisions - |
We recived this from Yoldran, Moonglow town crier:The Lycaeum Talks about: "The foundation of moral decisions"
Hear ye, Hear ye!
The Moonglow City Council is happy to announce the first Lycaeum Talks!
The Talks are a discussion forum for scholars, philosophers and all interested people, who like to inform themselves and discuss about topics from the realms of philosophy, sociology and other.
The topic of the first Talks, which happen on friday, march 29th, 20:00cet (7pm UK) in the Lycaeum of Trammel, is:
"The foundation of moral decisions"
"Every sentient being is confronted with moral decisions several times a day. While the ethical belives itself are different and an orc might consider helping a wounded enemy as 'bad' while humans think of it as 'good', the need to decide remains the same. But what drives us to choose the one way or the other? Is it the experience we have gone through and does experience change our moral understanding during our life? Is it the education we have received in our youth? Or is there an inherent knowledge in all of us that simply tells us what is wrong and right - even if we don't always follow that guidance?"
This event has four main parts:
1.) An introductory talk hold by the Oracle.
2.) A moderated podium discussion with Pad O'Lion, Xirzin DeMuz and the Oracle.
3.) A moderated plenary discussion where the audience can comment and ask questions..
4.) A "Get together" where people can freely discuss and get to know each other.
The City Council specifically invites interested beings from the non-human races (elves, orcs, drow etc.) to attend. A discussion is only interesting as long as there are different opinions - so we would be happy to have beings from different cultures and ethical believes present!
More information about the Moonglow City Council can be found on http://stop.at/moonglow .
Hope to see ye in the Lycaeum!
Yoldran
-- Towncrier of Moonglow.
yoldran@hotmail.com |
| March 13, Wednesday |
| Mystery of the Lost Elven Lore Solved! - |
Last night a group of determined investigators gathered once more in the famed Spiritwood Tavern to discuss the latest developments in the ongoing quest to discover the treasures of the Lost Elvin Lore.
It all started several weeks ago when the ghost of the last true monarch of the old Elvin town of Glorindar was seen wandering the lands, leading investigators to the resting places of a series of fragments of an ancient text, written in the language of the Elder Race, which we now call the Elves. Over the course of several adventures, these fragments of lore were recovered and with the help of the monk of the Virtues Michael of the Spiritwood University, and Basil the Sage, scholar of Moonglow, their secrets started to be unlocked.
The evidence seemed to suggest that the once great civilization of the Elves had come to an end due to a great schism within their own society, a division perhaps brought about by conflicts between the ancient royal houses of the Elders. According to the scholar Basil the Sage, some among the ancient ones had begun to dabble in the dark arts of extra-planar Magiks and had unlocked a terrible curse upon the once glorious Olvin civilization- the race of the Elves. This not only lead to the separation between the so-called elves of the light, and the ones we now call the dark elves, known as the dreaded Drow race, but also resulted in the downfall of their once splendid capitol city called the City of Brilliance or Karas o Ril in their tongue. Basil also spoke of a terrible curse of perpetual warfare now imprisoning the remaining representatives of the two sides of this conflict within the ruins of the Brilliant City, holding them in a state of unending torment.
Unfortunately, it was not long before the mysteries of the fragments became impenetrable and the brave seekers were forced to petition a cantankerous old hag, known as Sybil the Wise, (or Sybil the Witch, depending on your point of view). It seems the old hag had certain divinatory powers that allowed her to call forth and interrogate certain beastly spirits from the nether-world, what we commonly refer to as demons&They dutifully went to seek the old witch and through her help and the advice of her vile summonings, they were able to at last uncover the final clue to the mystery which they pulled from the very bowels of the now ruined City of Brilliance, known today as the horrifying Keep of the Terrathans. Unfortunately it was inscribed in mysterious sigils identified as Geomancy.
Once more they sought out the Witch Sybil and this time, through her powers, she was able to identify the strange markings and what s more, suggest a means to decipher them- the ceremony of Azak-Vil. But knowing the ceremony and actually carrying it out would of course be two different things. The Witch sent the brave explorers off to gather a whole set of terrifying components to use in the ceremony, the Blood of the Elements, the Wings of the Phoenix, the hide of the Ancient Wyrm&..all these and more they had to gather. But most perplexing of all, they were instructed to obtain two samples of blood from both a bright and dark elf- FREELY GIVIN. This caused some consternation and when at last the questors had gathered again last night to discuss their progress they realized that they had thus far failed to obtain the precious blood of the elves.
Just then, the bartender of the Spiritwood Tavern rushed in and shouted that reports had just come to him that the scholar of Moonglow, Basil the Sage, had been seen being dragged into a magical portal by a strange figure that looked suspiciously like the witch Sybil herself! As one the assembled group gathered themselves and rushed off to the remote icy cave of the witch to investigate. When they arrived they discovered to their horror the body of Basil lying in a pool of blood on the frozen floor and the figure of the witch bending over him still clutching a red stained dagger!
Outraged they demanded to know the meaning of this vile act. The witch Sybil responded with fury, cursing them for intruding upon her and clutching a yellow bag tightly to her chest. She babbled incoherently at the stunned group and shrieked You ll never take me alive! before darting between their ranks and making a break for the icy wilderness beyond.
Naturally they gave chase, but the old witch was fast and seemed to be in a maddened state, slashing out with her wicked dagger at any that came near her. In the end, they were forced to beat her into unconsciousness. They then examined the bag that she had been carrying and discovered within a set of blood vials, some phoenix feathers, the ancient tome of Geomancy and- A description of the ceremony of Azak-Vil written on a freshly made parchment of unmistakable reptilian origins.
More determined than ever the adventurers decided to proceed with the ceremony, and set about procuring the final components needed. Aznagul of the Custodes Fati introduced them to a mysterious Elf maid named Nailith of the town of Glorindar itself, who had generously agreed to aid them in their quest by offering her own precious blood. But what of the drow blood? The mysterious emissary of the Ilythiiri Dobluth, Shaex D Thargaz had by then fled, having seen the menacing eyes and open threats being turned his way in the ice cave. The group was determined however, and despite various offers to procure the necessary sample by force, Pad O Lion of the Custodes Fati reminded all that the witch had been most adamant that the samples of elf blood must be freely given or they would not suffice.
They then set out for the dark town of Naeloth and there discovered Shaex in the Poisoned Elf tavern sharing a brandy with one of his dark colleagues. Pad O Lion agreed to negotiate while the others stood guard outside. A wandering healer called Nicolas at first tried to reason with the drow, saying that he ran a local blood bank and that their supplies were in dire need of topping up, but the cunning Shaex saw through the deception and heaped scorn and poisonous incantations upon the hapless healer until he was forced to withdraw. Outside the mass of adventurers waited nervously, eyeing every shifting shadow with suspicion. And with good cause it seems, for before long the sounds of battler were heard as undying members of the Spectral Court, lead by Garod the ancient Vampire, were soon trying to drive the interlopers from the territory of Naeloth.
Inside the negotiations continued. Shaex at first suggested a trade in kind- a sample of drow blood for a similar sample from Pad himself. Remembering past events with a certain Orc Wozza of the Severed Head Clan, Pad balked at this and instead offered free passage and access to the mysteries that would surely be unlocked through the ritual of Azak-Vil. Finally, a deal was struck: The drow emissary would provide a sample of dark elf blood and in return Pad would not only guarantee protection for him as he accompanied the questors to the final treasures of lost lore, but also pledged to intercede as best he could with the authorities in Moonglow, who apparently had a warrant for the arrest of Shaex D Thargaz&..
It later transpired that the sample offered by Shaex was not in fact his own, but rather the blood of his own sister, which he had somehow mysteriously obtained at an earlier date&.
It now seemed they had all they needed to perform the ritual of Azak-Vil. They consulted the Witches book:
A fine ritual, oh yes, most excellent. We takes the precious things and we keeps them safe; We takes them to the place of Fire Worship, where the sacred magik circle with the Ankh is guarded by the great red skinned beasties that helps us, they do, they helps us to find the secrets. There, on the red circle up on the top of the chamber where the great serpents slither forth, there we works our magiks well&&
And so it continued, setting out the formula for the frightful ritual. The people were sure it was a black service of some sort, and yet they were determined to see this mystery through until the bitter end, and so, girding their courage, they prepared to venture to the Demon Fire Temple itself.
When they arrived it was to a terrifying scene: Flames licked up from vast open cavities of hellish damnation, demons stalked between the ancient walls, Drakes bellowed forth plumes of smoke and great shimmering Dragons swung their fearful gaze towards them as they stood quaking before the gates of this ancient edifice of damnation. There in the midst of the compound stood the temple itself, its walls glowing from the timeless fires that burned all about it. As one, the determined investigators drew a deep breath and plunged forward towards the temple and up the cracked stairs to where they knew the blooded circle of hellish magik to be. Immediately they were set upon from all sides by countless enraged demons who flew at them like a tidal wave of hate. On all sides they battled them back, but more and yet more kept coming, emerging from the black essence of the very stones of the ancient temple. And still they fought on, holding the horror in check so that the ritual could be performed. Spells flashed on all sides and weapons clanged into thick red hides, the sound of voices almost lost under the chaos, writhing red bodies piling up higher and higher beneath their very feet until the magic circle was all but buried in them.
But still they struggled on, with warriors and mages battling to hold back the hordes all about, Steveo of the Knights of Virtue and Pad O Lion laid out the components as the witch Sybil had specified and as Pad chanted the Words of Power, Steveo held out the Geomantric inscriptions. In desperation people held their breaths as the demons seemed to be gaining the upper hand and it was fast appearing as though all would be consumed in a hellish conflagration there and then-
but just as all was looking lost, Steveo s voice was heard to cry out above the din: The Book- It has been Transformed!!
With that they fled for their very souls.
Regrouping later in the Spiritwood University, the remnants of the great battle of the demon temple regained their strength and gathered their numbers once more as the scholars among them studied the now transformed text of the Geomantric tome. It was written in the language of the Olvin race- the Elves of old:
I al gil lond o al Karas O Ril, enke al pel form, hyarm, rom y andun. En-rai al ed y kwen y-el y-esse o tur:
Anna o Aglar-e Red-o Dhir
A hasty translation was produced:
In the Starlight Haven of the City of Brilliance, make a circle north, south, east and west ringing the middle and speak the names of power:
Gift of Glorious Ancestor s Knowledge
Immediately, the way forward was clear, for who by now had never heard of the fabled Star Chamber hidden magically within the very heart of the dread Tarrathan Keep, a place now known to have once been the legendary City of Brilliance itself. Sensing that their prize was near, they made preparations to travel to this legendary place. Soon the Treasures of the Lost Lore would be theirs.
Taking care that all had the necessary magics to teleport them across the barriers that protected the sacred Star Chamber they set out, some going directly to the moonlit void about the chamber and others gathering from within the horrors of the Terrathan Keep itself. It was not easy, but soon they had all assembled at last. Some who had never visited the place gazed in wonder at its sacred mysteries, marveling anew at the glory of what once had been the greatest of civilizations. Others were more practical in their outlook, for they had battled hard to get to this point and they could taste then promise of success just ahead. Durak Blackaxe, the dwarf of Dreamstone town rubbed his hands in anticipation and speculated aloud as to the riches they were about to receive, for was it not well known that the Elves of Lore had riches beyond compare? Soon, all was ready, the questors were positioned all about the central constructs within the chamber and the only sound was the tinkling of the soft waters that flowed perpetually beneath them. They said the words:
Anna o Aglar-e Red-o Dhir
Nothing happened
They tried them again, first one pronouncing them, then all. They tried saying a word each& still they could perceive no change to their surroundings, no chest of gold suddenly appeared, no gems rained down from the ceiling above- nothing. Scratching their heads, they pondered their predicament, how could there be ¬hing.. after all they had been through&?
Then a scholar by the name of Stormcrow who had been taking part gazed thoughtfully at the stones beneath his feet as he pondered these questions and he espied there a small gap, no doubt a hidden panel that had been silently revealed, and within it he could just make out the edge of a book entitled: The Golden Rule.
Excitedly he grabbed it up and all pressed close to hear what was revealed within this, the Treasured Lost Lore of the Elves. It was a simple statement, beautifully inscribed in glowing letters:
Do unto Others as Ye woulds t have Others do unto Thee.
Treasure this Simple Truth and all shall be well; Break with this Simple Truth and misery shall be thine companion always.
And thus it was that the treasured lore was recovered. So Wise and yet so simple it is indeed , laughed the assembled crowd, so true and so obvious and yet it has taken us a journey to the edge of hell and back to re-discover&..
With a sense of renewal, they gathered themselves together and made their way back to the Famed Spiritwood Tavern to enjoy an ale and a satisfied laugh at their long journey together towards this simple truth.
Shelby the Spiritwood town crier.
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| March 5, Tuesday |
| Treasure of the Lost Lore - |
More on the Lost loreIt was a normal evening in the famed Spiritwood Tavern as a crowd started to gather to hear the advice of the old monk Michael regarding the strange text discovered in the bowels of that ominous place known as the Terrathan keep just a few days before. The etchings on the page were in a language that none could fathom and it was hoped that the old monk could shed some light. When he arrived a hush fell over the crowd and they listened intently as he give his insights. The text, he said, was doubtless writ in some ancient language of power, designed perhaps to keep the uninitiated from obtaining the wisdom locked within it. As had been suggested the previous week, it was evident that some expert knowledge would be necessary, and he had therefore arranged for the eager adventurers to once again seek out the old witch known as Sybil the Wise, whom, the monk suggested, might have the means to unlock the mystery.
Without further ado, a large group had gathered to make their way to the icy wastes of the far northern sea. Here they knew the hut of the witch to be situated, perched high above a frozen cave in which she worked her arcane rituals. Soon, they had arrived at the place and upon entering, they discovered the witch sharing a cup of tea and friendly chat with the infamous figure of Shaex D’Thargaz, emissary of the Drow imperia of the Ilythiiri Dobluth. Somewhat perplexed by this, they nevertheless pressed on and stated their business: “We seek your aid in unlocking the mystery of the sigils engraved in this strange tome”. The witch cackled at their request and in her dismissive way demanded what impertinence made them think that she would so lightly offer such aid. They offered her money. She heaped scorn upon them. Finally they said that the secrets within would remain hidden if she were to refuse their request and the old hag agreed to examine the book. She took it and shared it with her Dark Elvin guest Shaex, in an all too confiding way. The assembled crowd shifted nervously and waited. Finally the old witch pronounced the name of the strange arcane sigils: Geomancy.
But what did they say? This, she told, them would be far harder to decipher and they would need some “advice” on the matter. Following the witch Sybil, the group once more descended into the frozen darkness of the mysterious cavern below and watched in considerable apprehension as she began the all too familiar preparations to once again summon a great red skinned demon. She placed a line of arrows before them and commanded that none should pass. She traced a binding circle in the icy floor with sulfurous ash. Then, shaking her rattle and jerking back and forth like a mad thing, she began to chant.
In but a moment, the space above the circle of sulfur was split in twain and a great red beast of the nether realms strode forth flinging curses at the gathered mass trembling before it. Demanding to know the meaning of this further intrusion, it glared at them in growing rage. Then Sybil spoke, she held the book out before her and asked how might the Gemonatric Sigils be deciphered? It was as though the beast was somehow strangely compelled to answer and it told them that an arcane ritual which it called Azak-Vil would be needed. Then it cursed them all and threatened far worse should they ever implore its obedience again. With that it was gone…
All eyes turned once more to the figure of Sybil the Wise, and with a sidelong smile and wink to her companion Shaex D’ Thargaz, she told them that she knew this obscure rite called Azak-Vil, and would, for a price, conduct it for them. But first, they would need to gather certain rare ingredients necessary for the ritual. Eagerly they asked what was needed, too eagerly she thought with a cackle. Then she told them:
“First, we shall need to construct a special precious scroll. To do this we needs inks to write the scroll with, special inks made of the blood of the source, the kind only found within the mighty Elemental of Blood! Next, we needs to apply this special precious ink, we needs quills made form the feathers of the mythical Phoenix! Fetch these and bring them to me then shall I tell ye the rest!”
With that she turned her back on the crowd and invited the drow back to her hut with a friendly “More tea Shaex?”
The adventurers acted immediately, and made their way to the far realms where the volcanoes billow forth their polluted stench upon the lands, and the beasts of fire rule. It was not long before they were surrounded by elementals of flame seeking to drive them out. But lo, between desperate combat, they espied the legendary fire bird casually preening its flaming plumage and eyeing them with suspicion. They attacked! And though it was a hard won thing, they finally managed to batter the sacred bird to within an inch of its life and thence to deliver the coup de grace. Some days later a second expedition was formed and they gathered once more, this time battling their way down to the lower depths of the Place of Shame where lurks the elementals of blood, ever seeking to replenish themselves with the life force of the unwary. Again, through brute force, cooperation and determination, the adventurers were successful, and soon they had a sack full of the deep red essence of the vitalis.
Last night, they regrouped once more in the Spirtiwood Tavern to discuss when and how to move further on this grand mission. It was then that the local barkeep, Raz Mataz, overheard their talk and looked up from serving her customers the best ale in the realm. “Did you say Sybil? I gots a note here from that ol’ hag. Said I should give it to ya all when the place was packed. I reckon its pretty full now ain’t it?” she asked innocently. They demanded the note and she dutifully handed it over to Aznagul of the Custodes Fati, who read its simple contents aloud: “Bring the supplies to me at my hut”. Curt and to the point. Some grumbled that the old witch was not to be trusted and was probably leading them on a merry dance as they gathered once more to make their way to the icy wastes where her hut sits perched atop its mysterious cave.
They found her, again entertaining her mysterious dark-skinned elvin friend Shaex D’ Thargaz, this time apparently tutoring him on some basics of witchcraft. They crowded into the dark space and announced that they had been successful, proudly holding out the spoils of their efforts. These she examined carefully, holding the feathers up in what little light there was to study them closely. It was then that she announced that they had almost all that was now needed for the ritual of Azak-Vil. “Almost?!” demanded the gathering, what on earth could she need more? “Foolish little ones, what good the means to write a spell if one has not the page to write upon?” They offered her then books and blank scrolls but she brushed aside their efforts with derision. Nay such paltry pages would not do, what was needed was the fresh hide of the greatest of adversaries. “The Ancient Wyrm….?” Spoke the trembling voice of Guffi from the back. “Aye!” she shrieked, “just so, bring me the hide with which I shall craft a magical parchment in one hour and then I shall share with you the final component!” Boastfully, they announced that they could achieve this demand in but half and hour and thence sped off to the depths of the place called Destard to hunt the great Ancient Wyrm.
And true to their word they were, for shortly they returned dragging the still bleeding scaly hide of the Ancient Wyrm behind them and casting it before the old witch. It was then that she shared with them the final element of the obscure ritual of Azak-Vil. “I shall now need that which will be acted upon by these elements gathered thus far. As this mystery relates to the Elder race, they whom you call Elves, I shall need a sample of blood, FREELY GIVEN from both the elves of the surface and the ones called Dark Elves- the Drow… Freely Given mind you, not taken by force or deception”….
The gathered questors shifted uncertainly and their eyes fell both upon the dark on called Shaex as well as the forest green-clad figure of Elv’eng of the Andune fellowship. To each they began their negotiation, pleading bargaining, begging, but to no avail as both seemed reluctant to comply. Elv’eng flatly refusing to share his precious blood regardless of the urgency to unlock the Treasure of the Lost Elvin Lore that was bound up within the Geomantric inscriptions, and Shaex carefully considering what price he might ask in return for such a gift.
Sybil the Wise gathered up in her bony arms all the components brought to her thus far and gave them one week to achieve this final task. “Leave now!!” she commanded and then vanished into thin air.
Will they be successful in negotiating for these final precious components for the ritual of Azak-Vil? Or will the treasure of the Lost Lore remain forever hidden?
The final episode of the Treasure of the Lost Lore quest shall be on Monday the 11th. All willing adventurers are welcome to come and help unlock this secret. Meet in the Spiritwood Tavern at 21:30 CET (8:30 GMT) and join us as we try to resolve this mystery once and for all….
Shelby the Spirtiwood town crier |
| March 2, Saturday |
| Cove Market Day next Thursday! - |
TIME: Thursday the 7th of March, Beginning at 20 CET
Hail to thee Traveller! It is our pleasure to announce the Fourth Market Day of Cove (Trammel). This will be thine day to meet people and make good trade agreements.
The Tradeport’s Merchants will be there to offer products from many fields, as will the visiting merchants as well.
If thou are interested in coming to the Market and reserve a place (note that you can come without notice too if you prefer, but you have to provide your own sales table), drop a note at our bulletin board at: http://cove.rper.org/cgi-bin/dcforum/dcboard.cgi.
The Market will happen at the Gaveston Manor roof, and exact map can be found at: http://cove.rper.org/
Also I wish to thank all who took part of the Third Market Day, it was the biggest market that Cove had so far. I can only hope that we will have as great market as the last time.
Wishing to see thee there,
Conrad Gaveston |
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