Announcements | Xadune

April 19, 2021April 19, 2021

Xadune May 2021 Live Action Roleplay Event

Get ready, Xadune is hosting an in-person, live event!

After over a year, we are finally hosting an in-person event. Not to say the Virtual Events weren’t awesome, but I think we are all incredibly excited to get back to what we do best: hit people with foam sticks.

COVID-19 Restrictions and Policy

We are requiring proof of full vaccination to attend this event. This means two doses of the Pfizer or Moderna vaccines, or one dose of the Johnson and Johnson vaccine. There will be no exceptions to this. Failure to provide proof of vaccination will result in expulsion from site. Moreover, if you have experienced any symptoms of COVID-19 or have tested positive in the past two weeks, you will also be asked to leave.

While that sounds all scary, there is a Medical Information Form where you can upload an image of your vaccination card! The Medical Information Form will also ask you about allergies or chronic diseases that the Medic team should be aware of, should you require medical assistance on site. Everyone needs to complete a Medical Information Form prior to selecting a cabin.

Medical Information Form

Event Size and Spacing

We are limiting the event to 45 players. With our Staff and Storyteam, this will mean a maximum of 50 people on site. While the CDC does not give direct guidance on mass gathering sites, given the size of Daniel Morgan, we feel this event size will allow for proper social distancing.

For this event, we will not be allowing walk-in players. You MUST pre-register (different from pre-pay) for the event, or you will be turned away. To pre-register, you will be required to complete the Medical Information Form and upload an image of your vaccination card. There are no exceptions to this. Safety is the utmost importance.

We are asking players to chose their cabins based on their pods. No more than 8 players can be in a cabin.

Additionally, we will be blocking the road into Daniel Morgan after Opening Ceremonies. We will be closing (not locking) the gate after all Pre-registered players have arrived. this is to prohibit lost campers from wandering on site.

Symptom Screening

All players will be asked a series of questions regarding COVID-19 symptoms and exposure at Check-in, and will have their temperature checked via touchless thermometer.

Hygiene

We will have soap and paper towels available in all restrooms, and we encourage players to wash their hands regularly. Hand Sanitizer will be available at multiple locations around site. Additionally, Makeup Races will not be required to paint their hands. Moreover, we are encouraging all players to bathe during the event.

High Touch Areas

Boffers, Foam Blasters, and shared costuming (read: monster clothes) will be sanitized after every mod with sanitizing wipes and/or spray. Boffers and Foam Blasters will additionally undergo UV sanitization as an extra precautionary measure . High touch areas, such as tavern tables and mod buildings, will be sanitized regularly.

Masks

Based on CDC guidelines for vaccinated individuals, we are not requiring (but heavily encouraging) mask in general play areas.

However, all players must bring a mask. Tavern workers are required to wear a mask at all times. You may be asked to wear a mask in enclosed spaces (such as mod buildings). We will have Xadune cloth masks for sale at Check-in and a limited number of disposable masks available.

Event Timing and Changes

In an effort to ensure you get the most out of your Xadune experience, we are moving Opening Ceremonies to 9pm on Friday. This means players need to be on site, checked in, dressed, and in the Tavern at 9pm. Due to the below Safety Refresher Course, late arrivals will miss content. If you arrive late, you will not be allowed to be in play until after a Safety Refresher Course and until a group is available. This could be a while – showing up at 9:30 might put you out of play until midnight. Please plan accordingly.

Because it has been so long since we last played, we will be conducting a safety refresher course that all players are required to attend. We will go over the basics – headbands, physical roleplay, and safe boffer fighting – as well as boffer sparring to help get everyone readjusted.

March 8, 2021March 8, 2021

Virtual LARP Workout

We haven’t been able to LARP in person in a year, and it’s time to get in shape before the next in-person event.

Ward 5 is never really a calm place, but recently the random muggings have at least decreased. It makes a person feel safe to walk around without worrying too much.

Which is why when you turn the corner and spot a rather large gelatinous cube making its way down an alleyway, it comes as a bit of a shock. The square hunk of goo notices you, and begins to make its way towards you. Inside, you can clearly see the body of what appears to be bones of something… human-sized. You could run away, but leaving this creature loose in the Ward doesn’t seem like the smartest idea…

Rules:

Choose which level of creature you want to fight.

Deal your normal damage with each exercise.
Can be completed individually, or in a group of up to three – but he XP will be divided across the group.

Must record your workout and send it to Xadune Staff as proof of completion (these will not be made public).

You can only gain experience for one defeated creature per week.

Example:

Alara comes across a Gelatinous Cube! She chooses the Level 3 (100 Body) to fight.
Alara deals 5 Normal Pierce with a Spear; 5 Flaming with a spell at 1 Skill Point; and 20 Accurate Pierce with a firearm at 10 Skill Points.

Emily then does 10 Squats (10×5 Flaming), a 10 second Plank (1×20 Accurate Pierce), and finishes it off with 6 Lunges (6×5 Normal Pierce). Alara spent 20 Skill Points, well within her Max Skill Points.

February 22, 2021February 22, 2021

Death of a Warrior

By Ashley Naron

It was late in the afternoon. She’d been sitting and sunning herself, but the sun was not shining as strongly as it could be, the breeze was cooler than she would have liked, and her bones hurt. She was getting old. One of the pups – her daughter’s second youngest son, she assumed (who could keep track?) – scampered up yipping about something his sister had done. She growled and clacked her jaws at him, and he skipped away. She thought about chasing him down and biting him, but thought better of it. Such things were beneath her dignity.

Her dignity, ha. Not so old, yet. She laughed a bit to herself. Not so old as to be complained at by a pup. Did she appear so weak? Was she a leader, or not? She had more important things to do than referee a fight between the young – they should sort it out for themselves. They were nearly old enough to begin training for war anyway.

The smell of blood and death wafted through her nostrils. Such a sweet smell, and so welcome – but just a memory of days past.

Yes, the war. She did need to attend to business. Using her scythe for support, she lifted herself from the ground and made to head back inside. She had reports to consider. With the blockade, they were running short on supplies. Her people were not starving – not yet – but soon enough it might become a more pressing concern.

Her grey jowls shifted into a snarl; a thin string of drool dripped from her jaws.

And besides, she did not want to die cowering with an empty belly and aching bones. She longed to die with her enemy’s blood filling her guts, their life spilling out onto cold ground. She longed to do battle. Longed to snatch the lives from the bodies of those invaders. Longed to teach them an important lesson – not to fuck with her world. Rage began creeping its way up her spine – the red-hot sting of it welcome in sore muscles. She let out a cackle and forced it away.

But she was old, and she had to lead her people to battle. She had learned that sometimes leading meant doing what was best in the long run, and not what felt best right now. Death dealing could wait for the opportune moment; she needed to consider the rations more presently. She stretched, her muscles pulled taut, and her aches receded. She scratched at one notched ear with her bad paw, and yawned wide, showing a fearsome mouth with only a few missing teeth. To business, then.

The first wail sounded loud and long as she reached the doorway. She froze. Her heart hammered. She had seen and felt and known and delivered enough death that she knew grief when she heard it. She turned, and ran towards the sound.

“But the enemy hasn’t made it this far, yet!” She knew that – the reports on their movements came in not even one day ago.

“We hid this site for a reason! We needed to breed more warriors! They can’t know where we are!” She knew that – she’d been the one to select the location.

“My oldest is guarding! They could not slip by her so easily!” She remembered the first time she saw Fisi laughing in battle – remembered how proud she was as she saw her firstborn daughter cleave an enemy’s head from his neck like she was born to it.

And she was born to it, like her mother before her.

The first of her people she saw fall that day was a child. She dropped her weapon – the first time in her life that she had done so without thinking – and knelt next to it’s small body. She rolled him over and saw that it was one of hers – the young pup. Was it a grandson or a great grandson? She struggled to remember. She could not think what he was called. But she knew those spots, as surely as she knew all of them.

She knelt on the cool ground, and cradled him. He was still warm. Blood ran from the corners of his mouth, his eyes, his ears. So much blood – his fur was wet with it. She had seen that before, yes. Tasted it. Reveled in it. But there was no wound! No reason for this death! It was a waste! He stared sightlessly upward, his unblinking eyes reflecting her visage.

A thud, to her left. She turned in time to see another child fall – this one a bit older; this one a girl. The pup thrashed on the ground, clawing at her own throat, heels kicking the red earth, eyes bugging out of her sockets.

“It looks like she’s drowning,” Shujaa thought.

She lunged for the living child, paws digging in her pockets, hoping that she had though to bring any supplies with her. Please, let her have anything on her that could stop this!

She did not have anything that could have stopped this.

More wailing, more thuds, the sounds of panic, fear, chaos. Music to her on the battlefield, but not here. Not for her people. Not like this. There was nothing worthy in this.

She felt bile rise in the back of her throat. Tears stung the corners of her eyes. Was she going to be sick? Was her constitution going to fail her like this – now? She had laughed when they cut her mate down in front of her, cackled when they robbed her of her first son, ripped the throats from their warriors when they dared to threaten her village. She would not heave her guts over a few dead pups!

No. She tasted blood bubbling at the back of her throat. Her breath began to run short. She gagged, spit – blood on red, red earth.

Not like this, not like this. She had never been afraid to take the long walk, but not like this. She had prayed to die in battle – and not like this. She wiped the tears from her eyes, and her paw came away red. She inhaled deeply – and her lungs burned. She looked towards the sky, and suddenly found it hazy.

The air did not smell right. It was not right!

And then, she knew. She knew what the elves had done. What retribution they had wrought. She laughed – her war-cry filled the air – something in her twisted and turned and burned. And it was pain. Oh Gods, it was pain. More pain than the time a pinky’s sword sliced through her leg – more pain than losing her right ear. More pain than all the wounds and all the aches she’d accumulated over her long life. She never imagined being in so much pain.

She crawled her way over to the pup as it continued to kick and thrash. The girl tried to reach for her, though the muscle spasms made the gesture impossible. Shujaa felt her own muscles beginning to twitch, but continued onwards. She coughed wetly, felt more blood in her mouth and on her tongue. She reached the pup, and brought it into her arms.

“It will only hurt for a moment more.”

She covered the child’s eyes, and drug her dagger across the pup’s throat. The blood splattered her face, and it was warm. The child kicked once more, and lay still. Would that she could do it for all of them, but she did not think she had the strength to move further. Knew she did not. Her body contorted without her say-so, and she drew in on herself. The dagger dropped from her grip.

While she could, she prayed. To Goddamas, to Echpen, to Grim, to Regality, to Relanegi. And, to Armadel. Let each one of her people’s deaths be a sacrifice. For each one of them that dies, let ten, or twenty, or a thousand of those fucking elves die in response. Let them be avenged.

“Please, avenge us.”

But she could not pray for long. The pain overtook even her. Black and red crept across her vision, the smell and the taste of her own blood overwhelmed her senses, and her mind became consumed by pain.

She laughed. Blood-tears sprang from her eyes, ran down her face, and the cackling poured with it from between her gristle-soaked lips. It did not stop until her soul lifted free.

(Written by Ashley Naron)

February 22, 2021February 22, 2021

The Extensive Chronicles and Memoirs of John Night

John Night was born April 11, AFS 051 on a stormy night in the then small city of Piston, Barboroy. From childhood the always enjoyed to watch, study, and observe the people and creatures of the world. By the age of twenty had had already reached world fame with the publication of his first book that explored the night creatures of the Western Kingdom. Though much of the material was speculative and opinionated from outside source, Night went on to study more creatures, places, and cultures throughout Xadune. He was quoted in June of AFS 076 that his life goal was to rewrite this first novel and with firsthand accounts and illustrations.

Shortly later he was drafted to serve in the War of 080 as a scout and corridor. Thankfully he survived, and with even more vigor and enthusiasm towards his love. Throughout the next 30 years Night traveled the world documenting the weird and mundane creatures, people, cultures, and societies that Xadune has to offer. In October of 099 his lifelong dream was answered as he was granted limited permission into the Western Kingdom. The reprint is highly sought after amongst collectors.

Currently Night is still doing what he has dedicated his life to doing. His latest goals include exploration and documentation of the Northern Frontier along with a write-up on a Gatherer. Night has had fourteen failed attempts to reach the Northern Frontier and has yet to witness first hand a Gatherer.

Below and to follow are excerpts from Night’s collective works throughout time. Most have been printed in some other form or fashion in local papers or event the Xadune Herald Tribune. Others might have been something skimmed over in a school or class, but most are what people now might consider common knowledge around Xadune.

Servlings

Throughout my years I have observed these creatures and their habits. In the beginning I believed them to be indigenous to Pha, but as I ventured the world I came to realize the they were indeed used all across the world. I say used because that all they are: a tool. In the wild these creatures normally dwell underground in borrows that are self-made. I’ve only come across three situations were “free-roaming” servlings have been observed. Most all other cases have been while in the servitude of a master, which is the meaning of their name, and seems to be the true nature and purpose for the creatures.

Servlings are relatively small humanoid creatures, standing at most at four feet tall if they stood up straight, but instead hunch over slightly placing them more at the three to three and a half feet tall. They are normally very lean in size; not once have I seen one that could have weighed more than fifth teen pounds. But this small size often takes most people off guard and they should not be underestimated. Three notable features about servlings are as follows: There faces normally appear smooched in, and they lack an actual nose. Instead they have a concaved open cavity where most all other humanoids have a covering that we refer to as a nose or snout. The second most notable feature is their yellow glowing eyes. Though not very notable during the day at night they are almost unmistakable. Though a few other creatures share this rare feature, one can almost always safely bet that if more than one set is seen in the night that they are servlings. Lastly is there skin coloration. I have recorded over 6 different colors of servlings in my travels: brown, black, gray, blue, green, and red. Though throughout the years these are the only colors I have seen, I do not believe it is the extent of their coloration. Skin coloration is most notable because it tends to reflect the true purpose of a servling. Each type has its own set of attributes and abilities special to them.

The apparent nature of their life is to serve. Normally their masters send them out on errands and whatnot to retrieve something or just generally cause a ruckus. Though often destructive along their course to achieve their set goal, one should never truly fear a servling unless they impede them in some way, taunt them, or are part of their preset mission. As mentioned before, they should never be underestimated. When in combat they typically use hoard tactics to outnumber a foe and deal with enemies one at a time, normally swarming one person until they are dead then moving on to the next. They are also very resourceful in looting their surroundings and victims for weapons and items. Their grunts, whines, and broken speak often also serves to confuse targets, but communication amongst each other seems to happen seamlessly. In the end however they are no more special then the next humanoid. Their skin is still soft and easy to puncture, and normally one or two well placed bullets can put one down. Though their natural defensive capabilities vary from type to type they all do have some type of vulnerability.

Pyglins

I have seen many incredible creatures in my travels and I make full note of each and every new being I come across. There was one particular incident that I recall when I was fairly young in my travels. It was a rainy evening and quite cool, so I decided to take residence in a cave I found right on a cliff of the Nigean Mountains. When I wandered to the back I heard a serious of small noises, curiosity got the best of me and as I crouched down in the back of, what I thought was a bear cave, I watched a most peculiar small creature.

From what I could tell they resemble goblins in every way, standing approximately 2-3 feet in height and they have pale yellow skin instead of green… Also they are extremely barbaric and tribal in nature, they seem to always be in packs. When they speak, it is in grunts and chirps, never really anything comprehendible or so I believed. They always wear elongated masks, colored very oddly, with long eccentric noses covering their own pointy noses.

They seemed to be stalking a Quittle, or cave cow, as they are commonly referred to, at that very moment I was observing them. Some carry with them javelins and others blow dart guns. Most of them carry small rusty daggers, though, and don’t seem very strong while they are alone, but, when they attack it is with the entire pack, and they seem to take down larger creatures quicker than they should. I shall refer to these as Maulers. There were a few that were larger than the others, standing closer to 3 1/2 feet and they seemed to be bulging with muscles and appeared to be very strong, these I call Brutes. Then came the Spitters, 2 very small Pygmy like goblins… Pyglins if you will, and one carried a torch. OH MY! He just spit on the Quittle and its flesh is searing! OH BY THE POWERS!!!! The other spit through the fire and ignited his own saliva! I left shortly after, fearing my own safety. This is indeed has been most fascinating thing I have ever witnessed….

Hawksray:

Getting into Darken Wood was hard enough but word travels fast of those who are involved in education and discovery. Once the peoples of this place learned of who I was they accepted me easily enough. The look of amusement on their faces was enough to unsettle any man’s heart. Regardless, I look forward to the adventure!
The first creature I had come across what was referred to as the “Hawksray”. It is near impossible to get close to this creature to get precise documentation while it is alive and during the day – as they are nocturnal creatures. Coming across a carcass of one I took measurements myself, but I had to do so quickly to keep from being in harm’s way in these woods. This massive bird stood as tall as a human, about 5.5-6.5ft.

The species has stout, strong legs and large feet which allows it to walk with ease. The bill – large, rather slender, and had a hooked tip with a wide gape. The wingspan of this monster was between 19 – 26ft in length! The length of the body itself was around 11 feet, give or take and I imagine the weight of it to be around 150lbs.
What I have noted about this creature while alive and still breeding is they flew mainly by soaring, using flapping flight only during short periods. They are carnivorous beasts and will feed on anything of lesser size than themselves. They can often be detected through the night by their screeching bellow. Their shrieks echo through the night to make any man’s or animal’s skin crawl. It sounds as if the world was being ripped open by the means of magic or some other dying force of nature.
With all of these things in mind, I am sure that I will never take to venturing in Darken Wood alone from this point on. As I would hate to be whisked away by this bird before my studies are complete. What an animal!

Pigmys:

Now that I have acquired a team of sorts to go through Darken Wood, I feel better about proceeding with my studies. The creatures I have been excited to cover in the woods are the Pigmy. Truly something that was only told about in stories but never documented. Although hardly an animal, they are small humanoid-like creatures that stand three feet tall. They travel in packs or sometimes even alone. They are frail looking things that are debatable whether they are indigenous to Darken Wood or if they travel here like every other race on Xadune to escape the world.

To look upon them without being outright attacked is a difficult in-itself. So to gather any information on these creatures was a task. I decided to approach cautiously from stilts made of bamboo, which is found around some parts of Darken Wood and is great material for many things. That was a failed attempt as they merely hacked at the stilts and easily maneuvered around, even started up the stilts to try to get to me. I unlatched myself and while in safety conceived another plan. I had never thought that they would be so agile and strong to make it up so high in such a short span of time!

This time I decided to head for higher ground at a distance. Sitting in a convenient spot in a tree, some distance away, I could see the on goings of their “tribe”. They spoke in a broken language that sounds as if it could be related to our common tongue. Pigmys come in different types, but they are hard to distinguish from each other. Maybe with more investigation we can uncover the hidden truth behind these creatures. They are a site to behold that is sure! They have narrow faces, much like the dying breed of Elves, squinted eyes and slightly pointed ears that look worn as if a moth got to them. Their bulbous nose reminds me of a dwarf and has me wondering about the genetics of these creatures. Are they of either species of Dwarf or Elf? Or are they merely a resemblance of either and they are a different breed? Is this another race on Xadune? Can they truly be cultured enough to be civil?

From the looks of their actions, I think not. They quarrel with each other, don’t speak civilized tongue, they take what they want without any question or regard, run about naked and hunt anything that moves. They are truly one wild race.

Ottmorrow Stinger

They warned me not to venture off without a guide. The Western Kingdom is nothing less of an unforgiving maze of what seems to be shifting trees and ground. I had come from the Eastern Faction, I now find myself in the Southern Faction, also known as Silent Wood. I was about to settle down for the night, it had been a long day of adventuring and data logging, then I heard the terrifying howl of something. I quickly stumbled to my feet and hid inside one of the large trees near by. I watched nervously as the sounds got closer and closer. Then I saw it, standing nearly 15 feet tall when not on all floors; black coarse hair with purple stripes here and there. Quills sprout from its back 1-2 feet in length, they look extremely dangerous. Tusks protrude from its jaw, curling back wards, as do its 4 horns that sprout from its head. Its paws could easily cover my entire upper body and the claws to match could effortlessly shred my flesh. A leather like webbing stretch from its elbows to its waist, I am unsure as to why those are there, please tell me this thing cannot glide or fly. Lastly, the feature that stood out the most was it’s tail. About 10 feet in length, its tail is covered in purple flowers that change to the color orange as it reaches the center of the flower projecting from the middle is a thorn, red in color, almost throbbing it seems. I better stop writing, its heading this way.

Sharktopus:

I once had the pleasure of swimming with the elegant and beautiful Water Elemani and through one of their alchemists I was able to gain the ability to breath underwater. I had a pair of engineered fins made for me by a gnome friend of mine, so I was able to keep up fairly well with these beautiful creatures of the sea. Their colony was located off the coast of Pha in the Raspin Ocean and I saw many beautiful creatures of note while in the depths of the sea. But it was when I noticed the elemani signaling me to surface and they had a look of panic about them that I began to really look around. I was unsure of what was going on… and then I saw it as it swam directly under me. It was about 30 meters in length, longer than most airships, and probably weighed close to 150 metric tons. It was beautiful, and I was frozen in aw as this beast glided through the sea. It had the head and upper dorsal fin of a shark, but the body of an octopus. The main tentacle, which formed just past the dorsal fin, was where most of the length of the beast came from, it was probably close to 20 meters in length, and on the end of it was the tail fin of the shark… quite peculiar, I thought to myself. The other 7 were much short in length, around 10 meters each, and moved the beast through the water at surprising speed.

I looked around and saw the elemani tribe floating in place, trying not to bring any attention to the beast. It was here that we saw a chance of escape, a large whale was off in the distance, it was about half the size of the beast under us, and a companion water elemani began to cast a spell, which in its own, underwater, is a sight to witness. He fired a projectile through the water and it struck the whale, we could see traces of blood seep into the water in a cloud like effect. This definitely got the beasts attention; it veered its course and bolted towards the doomed creature. As it got close it surprisingly flipped its body and began to wrap the beast with its much longer tentacle fin, much like that of a large snake. The whale struggle in a futile effort, but was no match for the oversized beast. As the tentacle fin squeezed the life out of the beast, the head began to rip the flesh away and devoured it. It was quite a fascinating sight, I thought to myself as we swam back to the colony, definitely a memory I will not forget, especially when I sail the open seas.

February 22, 2021February 22, 2021

Archmage Grindill’s Lecture on Portals

AFS 129, August 20th

… a shuffling noise is heard accompanied by the grunts of an elderly man as he sets up a small tripod contraption in the back of the Broken Rabit Inn. This should come as a surprise of many due to the fact no one really saw him enter. The man is dressed in what looks to be heavy flowing robes shaded in deep blues, has a neatly trimmed beard, but wildly overgrown hair. Astute observers would notice the small name tag he wears which reads, “MagCon 129, Kinsley; Hello my name is Archmage Grindill” . After setting up the tripod he opens a small hand bag and pulls out a rather large sized billboard and puts it on the stand.

The sign reads:

The Magical Wonders of Portals.

Seminar starts in 5 minutes.

He then starts to pull out many small metal contraptions which he assembles into what eventually resembles a Bunsen burner with a pot on top. He rudely and seemingly carelessly ignores all questions or people in the tavern, seeming to be completely entranced in what he is doing. He seems to add a few ingredients to the pot and including some liquid from a small jug. All these items he pulls form his bag which can in no possible way hold all these items. After a few moments he pulls a small cup from his bag and then pours what many can recognize from smell as coffee from the pot.

After what is almost exactly five minutes from when he set up the sign he takes a sip from his coffee and seemingly enjoying it greatly, pulls a wand from his sleeve and taps it on the closest table. Upon doing so all the lights in the pub dims so that only a few lights around him are at full power. With a confidence and an authoritive teaching tone he begins his speech:

“A portal is ANY thing that can make an archway or portal. This includes, but is not limited to, doorways, arches, windows, rubble that has fallen over to make an archway of some sort, or pretty much anything that could be considered a fully encased opening you can fit through. Portals are not limited by their size however; a portal can appear in the largest known opening to a hoe the size of a pin prick. As long as it makes an area that is surrounded on all side but one can walk, crawl, or fit through it can be a portal. Portals do not appear out of thin air out in the middle of a field. They appear in the forms I just mentioned.”

The words from the sign fade and give way to a whimsical stick figure with arrows showing a man walking through a doorway and entering a different environment. The elderly scholar takes a sip from his slightly steaming cup, and then continues on.

“Okay, moving on: so to open a portal you need a port key or keys, and these can be anything. For example: a cup of cold coffee and something blue. It doesn’t matter if the person was trying to open it or not, if they have the keys on them it opens unless it is magically locked. Keys can also be none tangible things such as sadness or a child’s laughter.”

The pictures change to different scenarios where a person walks by a opening but nothing happens, than another walks through with a certain item that active the portal and they pop out in a different place.

“Port keys can be one time use; meaning they disappear or get ‘used’ once it works, or can be used infinite times. It all depends on the portal. Portals can also be set or random. This means that a known portal could lead anywhere at almost any given time, or it could always lead to the same place all the time. One time portals happen, but very rarely. Normally if you find a portal and it goes to place X, it will go back there again if all the stipulation of the portal opening back to that place is met.”

Once again the pictures change to help represent that some port keys get “used” while others do not. There is also an example where a figure has to wait for a certain time to open a portal.

“Portals also normally only stay open for a very short time after opening. One would say on average, ohhh, maybe 2 to 5 seconds or so. So be careful. Many portals also only allow a certain number of people through at a time. OH, and yes, when a portal opens up here it opens up there as well. SO be careful; sometimes things will come through this side you wish never did.”

He once again takes a lengthy pause as he sips from his cup again and mumbles to himself. While doing so the pictures change to show a group walking along and unknowingly opening a portal. While half the party makes it through the portal snaps shut leaving the other half behind. Another example shows a portal opening and people racing to make it through as the attempt to example a hideous monster. One doesn’t make it in time and meets a grisly demise. He straightens is robes in an aggravated way and looks back to the tavern populous and goes on.

“So, portals go anywhere. What about getting back? Getting back can require the same key or keys, that is if the portal is a two way portal… You can imagine the slight dangers in that. To quickly answer a few common questions: Yes, if you go through a portal from the other direction it could lead somewhere else. Yes if you close a double door it is now a different portal. Yes the possibilities are almost endless.”

The images go through almost countless examples of what seems to be endless possibilities to portals, their destinations, and how they can work. He thinks to himself for a moment, seeming to attempt to gather all his thoughts.

“Aw, yes, getting home. There are many known set portals in every Ward that lead back to different nation’s home cities. These portals have keys that are ‘a person of origin’. Meaning if you were born there you are the key. If you live somewhere that you were not born I suggest you find a buddy that has a key to travel back and forth because the portals only work for said person. These portals are two way portals for the most part, BUT, the key to get back is ‘a person from origin that has been during shut down’. Shut down is a time period that happens where these portals do not function. This occurs about once a month and lasts for two to three days on average. We experienced one of these not too long ago. This means new random people tend to not randomly pop in. Other than those portals almost every other portal requires a key of some sort. If you got here without being here before via portal you had or have a key on you. That is an irrefutable fact.”

The pictures change to people going up to portals and walking through to what one would assume to be there home land and being happy and joyous.

“If you have any more questions your Charter group can answer any and all your questions, for the most part.”

With that his image along with all other things he brought in starts to distort slightly and fade from sight. The sign is the last thing to fade in which it reads: “This message has been brought to you by the Guild of Paranormal Mysticism.” And as it finally fades from sight the lights raise back to normal level and it was if he was never there.

February 22, 2021February 22, 2021

The Accounts of the Airship “The Flying Duchess”

The skies in Southern Kinsley were sparse with clouds that day, although some tufts of cotton floated up there it was a clear day. The weather was cool and lovely, as it always does when autumn is around the corner. Outside enjoying the nice breeze as I was doing my chores, I noticed a speck that was fat like a beetle in the sky. It was far off in the distance and as dawn broke not that long ago, it was still hard to tell what it was or how long it was there. Studying it for a moment or two, I finally concluded what it was well into the afternoon. Astonished as excitement slowly welled up inside of me, I stared in amazement at the wonders of magic that would hold such a massive structure in the sky, as if it were a bird. Here in Kinsley we aren’t privy to a lot of information concerning the other countries of Xadune. We only know what we read in the papers, but even then, it isn’t all that much considering what they choose to leave out. Although we are ignorant to the new ways, it isn’t uncommon to have heard of the famous air fleets or naval ships of the world. We all know what we have to deal with if it came down to warring. Regardless of how I knew what this amazing thing was, I wander off topic.

I dashed out of the door, letting it bang on the wall; I looked up at the early evening sky. Dark hues stretched across it. Blues, deep reds, purples and oranges; like a rainbow bedding down for the evening. There she was, approaching at a speed greater than I have ever known; having only used my own two feet to travel, I longed for something quicker. A horse, mule, even an ox would do if I could travel more often. But alas, traveling was out of the question when I had a farm to tend to. I had supplies shipped to me once a week on Wednesdays to prevent the idea of wandering off of my land. One cannot be away for far too long or they gamble with their lives’ work and means of living.

The beauty and wonder of watching an airship as it elegantly drifted across the sky was like a dream. Although something looked amiss as it seemed as though it were sitting higher in the sky earlier than it did now. Maybe it was a trick with my perception; we common folk do not know such silly things as longitudes and latitudes by the mere glance of a structure. As the sky grew darker I decided to finish my chores around the house before I turned down for the night. Just as I was finishing up in the kitchen I heard a rapping on my door. It had startled me enough to break my dinner plates as I was drying them. Mourning the loss of one of the only few nice treasures I own, worry brewed inside me as the knock came again. Who would come way out here? I wondered to myself. This day kept getting stranger and stranger as it progressed.

A robed figure stood in the doorway, clothed in dark shades of what looked to be black from the dim lighting of my abode. The large figure moved forward, forcing me back a step, entering my home. In a hushed, yet honeyed tone, “Water.” Was all that came from the man. Startled, I hopped to serve the man water, as he requested, only hoping that soon after the man would leave. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard clumsily, I dropped it and watched the glass break around my feet with wide eyes. Slowly turning my head towards the man, he just shook his head and seemingly sighs. Walking towards me, I backed into the counter, stepping in the glass, hearing the crunch under my feet I cringe. He extends a wrapped hand towards me with a flask and repeats in the same tone, “Water.”

Taking the flask with shaking hands I grab the water pitcher and refill his flask as high as it would go without spilling over. He moves the flask towards his shadowed face to drink the contents empty. Shoving the flask towards me again for more. I repeated the gesture, refilling it to it’s brim and watched as he swallowed some of the contents. Capping his flask off this time, he opens his coat and shoves it into an inside pocket. He turns his head back towards me and the feeling of wanting to run crept in as I felt his eyes burn through me. Finally he turns on his heel and starts to make his way out. Stopping at the door frame, he says softly, “I was never here.” and walks out into the night.

I stood with my mouth agape for some time, I’m sure. Something unlady like that I would never truly admit to another soul, but if any other were in a situation the same as this, who wouldn’t react the same?

I woke the next morning with the worst headache of my life. I turned my head to look at the empty wine bottle sitting on my nightstand. Huffing at my misfortune of finishing off the most expensive liquid contents in the house. Getting out of bed to go out to check the garden, grabbing my robes before I walk out the door. There it was again, yet landed a hundred yards from the house. The balloon still inflated, steam billowing into it to keep it aloft, the boat was tied down with a folding staircase leading up to the deck. A man sits on a small folded out chair fiddling with a small trinket between his two hands. Looking up through dark brown, chin-length tresses he pops up to his feet. “Morning.”

Grabbing the top of my robe, I close it to try to keep my dignity. “G-good… morning”, I respond trying to keep my calm. The man’s skin was of darker tone and seemingly cheerful. Trying to be good-natured, I approach warily. “Why do you have your boat parked outside of my house, sir?” He just smirks and pushes his hair out of his face. “How about we start with introductions since I was so rude last night?” He quirks a brow, and a flush pops across my face, “Oh…I…well….” He cuts me off, “Here, let me start.” He gestures, “I’m Corrwyn and you are…” He half bows, flourishing his coat to reveal his dark blue pin-stripped vest and brass pocket watch chain. Feeling severely under dressed I held my rob around my body tighter, “Jul…Julie…” Cutting me off again, “Well, nice to meet you Julie! We are here to get some supplies.” Confused as I take a look around my large plot of land, the city not but a days walk away. “Why here when you can park at the port in the city?”

He takes a few steps closer and smirks, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Well now… That, my dear… is something I’d like to apologize to you about…”

Stuttering I swallowed hard, not knowing what he meant, but also out of curiosity I responded meekly, “F-for?” He looked down at me with a broad smile as he steps closer and with that I black out.

My eyes blink rapidly into the darkness, trying to find focus on something. THERE! A glint of metal shown me briefly that I was in a small room, the reflection of light from a small hole somewhere above my head promised escape. Turning to try to find the exact place above me that it came from, my head was in excruciating pain. Curling into a ball in on myself, I realize that there was more things wrong with me than right in my present state.

I didn’t know where I was.
I didn’t know how to escape.
Or if I could even escape due to my medical condition.
What kind of condition my body was in.
What was it that was binding me.

Upon thinking on the latter, I realized that I couldn’t necessarily move freely. Ignorant as to why I tried to move my hands around to feel for something familiar. A texture, an object, anything that would give way to how I was here. Not being able to move as freely as I would like, my desperation starts to set in. Pulling my body left to right, trying to pull whatever that was holding me loose, to no avail. Sweat beaded on my brow as I focused on the one thing I noticed prior. Hoping the light would shine again to illuminate the room, even briefly was nearly the only hope I had left.

Although I didn’t feel hungry, another mystery in itself, my stomach hurt from a slight pain, a slight soreness, as if I were doing a lot of physical labor. Confusion started to set in as tears well up in my eyes. I didn’t know what to think, I wanted something familiar, anything….

A door swung wide open and someone stumbled into the darkness, closing the object behind them. The light around the figure was jarring, blinding yellows and oranges, the silhouette was a somewhat large frame and the heavy steps that approached matched what I briefly saw. “…H-hello?” I called out to the figure, hoping to get more of an indication of where they ended up. Silence answers my question until a large hand clasps down on my shoulder suddenly, making me scream out.

“Shhh…” A gentle male voice soothes, running large fingers through pieces of hair that fell across my face. “Too loud…”

February 22, 2021February 22, 2021

Day of the Lover

Lover’s Day
February 14, AFS 130
Written by William Stivers- Priest of Neltēveye

I wanted to take a moment to remind everyone of what this day means and to remember what the path of true love stands for, and that there are times that it is difficult. This is a story that has been passed down through the church of Neltēveye throughout time itself, and I thought it to be appropriate as we entered the new decade here on Xadune that I share it with the world.

Verym, a human from South Kinsley, was not a rich man, he did well for himself, but he did so as a blacksmith, a lower class profession in the large town he grew up in. He ended up falling for a girl, Beverlyn. It was love at first sight from both ends. Beverlyn was from an upper class noble family and that family did NOT approve of her relations with Verym. But this did not stop them from seeing each other. They would go on picnics ever Thursday of the week and Verym promised they would run off to the other side of the world and get married and live together forever, but he could not afford to do so with the money he had… this was his dilemma. That is until one day when he and Beverlyn were walking through the woods when something caught his attention, something glistened to the right. He immediately changed direction, Beverlyn asking what’s going on, but Verym remained silent while he guided her to that glisten. They came to a clearing that looks as if the earth itself had been burned and in the center were ruins, in the center of the ruins what appeared to be a gem-encrusted alter. Verym smiling, thinking his prayers answered rushed over and took four of the gems off, a red one, white one, blue one and a green one. Beverlyn pleaded him to stop, said that this did not feel right. It was then that he saw the largest diamond he had ever seen, it was as big as a fist, he began to try and pry it off, Beverlyn came to stop him, he argued and there was a struggle, the struggle ended when Verym pushed Beverlyn and her head struck the diamond, killing her instantly. Verym couldn’t believe his eyes, he went mad trying to revive her. When he realized what he had done, he took the knife he was using to pry off the gems with and plunged it into his heart, killing himself. Verym and Beverlyn’s love for one another was so strong that it had caught the attention of Neltēveye,and this was a test from him to see if that love was stronger than that of greed. When he entered the Twilight he was met by Neltēveye and found this out. For failing this test and killing the one he loved, Neltēveye cursed Verym, gave him immortality and the knowledge that he will never love again…

Moral of the story
There are 3 great things in this world: The first thing is for you to love someone. The second thing is for someone to love you back and the third greatest thing is for the first and second thing to happen at the same time… Remember that love is a test and it should be the light that guides you. Do not let the greed of man get in the way of Neltēveye’s love. Love brings true happiness, not money.

Happy Lovers Day

February 22, 2021February 22, 2021

Experiments

A gnoll is tied to a chair, beaten and bruised, from the looks of it he looks to be from the Namib clan. The room is barren, void of anything but solid walls and a small window near the ceiling to vent out the stench. The Brown Gnoll sat in silence, seemingly waiting for what was to happen next. Through a plate of small glass a woman in a lab coat stood taking notations of the subject’s behavior.

The Namib have always proven to be such interesting creatures. They have a very high tolerance for pain and from the looks of it, they could probably dish out worse than what they can take. These creatures, opposed to their kin, take on a lot of self-pity and self-sacrifice as if they were to prove something to someone– the powers, their matron, who knows? They scar their body in different ways and layer the scars with tattoos, some sort of custom they practice. It makes little to no sense, but when does a gnoll ever do anything that makes sense?

The woman motions to the shadowed figure around the corner and the metal door slides open and another gnoll is thrown inside with the first. The heavy door slides shut behind the stripped gnoll as a small vent opens and four catadillo scurry into the room.

Test G43N proved that these two clans do not like each other. The Namib prove to be very loyal and passive while the Dhubba prove to be more cunning than his brother. On the other hand when they are trapped within confines the Namib will do anything to be released from his bindings to attempt to kill the Striped Gnoll. It was a nightmarish scene to behold; the rapid and quick movements were unpredictable. The mess afterwards took three men six hours to clean.

The scientist looks up from her notes, pushing her lenses further up her nose and a look of confusion overtakes her. The Striped had helped the Brown out of his bindings and they stood together, back to back, defending one another until the battle was complete. They stood in silence, waiting.

What is the meaning of this?! They fight together, yet they fight with each other on a whim? I do not understand! I suppose it is something no one but a gnoll could understand. Family and cultures come with priorities over what one hates or dislikes. Maybe there is something more to these creatures than I previously thought. Perhaps I’ll throw another loop in the mess to see what happens.

It seems as though the “loop” that I had intended on throwing into the mix was a bit much. I decided to go ahead and capture a spotted gnoll to toss in to see how the three interact with each other. To my surprise, it seems as though the other two put aside their differences to defend the spotted gnoll at all costs. I wonder what the meaning of this is…

Without these beasts roaming around Kanada and other surrounding countries, I wonder what would become of the ecosystem. Or if there wouldn’t be an affect at all. Perhaps with some more studies I can conceive the ideal of a perfect environment for them. I have been contemplating lately of those other races that are beast-like in nature and thought of creating experiments for them as well, not only for my benefit, but for their own. Why would they want to live in a world, such as ours, a human dominated world? Don’t they feel trumped? A hard world out there for such hard creatures… What would our children think if they saw these animals out on the street bleeding, dying, begging for mercy, demanding things or killing each other? They would become hardened, and we cannot have that breeding into our society. We must protect those who will become our next generation to create a better life, a better society, a better world.

I am trying to get approval to get the go-ahead to take residency within the island. This will prove to be useful for the experiments and their surroundings. G43N was a success; G44N was as well, but what about G44N-Isl? That would be entertaining to watch. I will have to try to push for this as soon as possible so that we can begin on these new studies.

It seems as though there were some unexpected delays in our experiments due to personal reasoning. There was some issues with the laboratory and those other present because they find these findings to be be unethical. I, on the other hand, believe that these things are necessary if we are to fight and defend ourselves from these creatures. They are being held in the same standards as us, we should have a right to know how their madness works!

Why, with a single bite… well… never you mind that. I need to further investigate the on-goings of an acquaintance since they seemed to have caused some issues in our world. Never mind the fact that she was plotting to destroy everything I have worked so hard to accomplish!

I’ll get to the bottom of this…

There had been some personal issues I needed to tend to as of late, so my progress in reports and studies have been lack. I still have a couple of things to do, but in time, I’ll learn to balance it all.

Just as I have in the past, so please don’t be detered by this new information.

I have recently requested for new test subjects and my thoughts on my progression are leading towards larger breeds. I may be interested in lizard folk, as their anatomy astounds me.

Case studies are to follow once the new specimen arrive.

February 22, 2021February 22, 2021

Memoirs of Edward Mandeville

Gears, ratios, coils, steam, clockwork, keys and rails; it all came naturally to me as reading was to a poet. The comprehension of something complex was always interesting to someone like me. I love to study the ins and outs of gadgets, machinery, firearms and other sorts of things I could tinker with. No one would ever really complain though, they would get their things in one piece or another better than it had been previously.

Flaws in creations are an eyesore. Why would someone be so careless to leave so many in something they hold so high. To call a work of art complete without a finishing touch to seal it all together was ridiculous.

I suppose my love for tinkering all began about ten to fifteen years ago. I was still young then and I was just wed. My new wife came to love me quickly, despite the arrangement, and admired my talents as much as I hoped she would. After some years later she started to become jealous of my work, claiming that I didn’t give her attention, didn’t love her anymore. She even said once, “If you actually loved me, you would get your head out of the clouds and back onto what was important”, My work is important. I provided for her, she spent as much money as she liked; I put food on the table, gave her a daughter and a son to call her own, and even took care of the expenses. She even asked for a pet parakeet and I succumbed to it even though I have a loathing for birds. She had all she ever wanted, my lovely Lenoire, yet she wanted more so more I gave to her.

Through dull sky and stormy nights she was always there radiant as ever, always bringing the sun to the darkest of days. My children played and loved to learn, even my daughter took up playing with gadgets to try to understand how they worked. Everything seemed to be going along perfectly until the parakeet died. Then there was another episode. Her depression was unbearable, staying in her room for long nights leaving me to take care of the children. It was then, late one night while I was working on Thomas McGregor’s pocket watch, when I had the idea. Abandoning my project I quickly drew up plans and begun my work. It only took half a day to figure out all the details and another day to withstand my criticism.

I was proud of myself, a mechanical bird, who would have thought it? It chirped, fluttered its’ wings, hopped about and was even colored like her parakeet was. I left it for her outside of her room while I left to deliver my completed works to their owners. A smile on my face and a skip in my step, I had turned a bad situation around.

Only to return home to the most horrendous site I ever beheld in my life. The front door was knocked off of its’ hinges, the windows were broken, random valuables scattered about the floor, lamps and china shattered. Someone had invaded my home. Stunned I dropped my bag and dashed about the house looking for my dear wife and the children. But they were no where to be found. I could only find a scrap of my daughter, Jane’s, dress hem on the staircase.

Something inside of me told me it would be alright. I contacted the authorities and while they worked I stayed out of their way, turned and decided to go do some work of my own to keep my mind busy. I have been here awaiting a reply, some clue as to who did this or why meanwhile building the best thing I could have ever built for myself. I have never built myself something before and in a circumstance like this, I believe I deserve it.

– Edward D. Mandeville

Lenore, Where have you been? I work all day and expect my tea at noon like usual. She would sit across from me at the small round wooden table that sits in the nook of my study. That’s where I would take my breaks with her. Just to sip at tea and munch on fruits, cheeses, breads and the like while I would occasionally glance up at her angelic face. It was the little things in life that she did that made me adore her. All these things are different now, I suppose. She never did come back home from shopping. Or was she taking Jane and Vincent to practice? I can never remember the little things when I have been working long hours.

I adore my children even though I never really have time for them. They do, however, appreciate the times I do get to spend with them. This is probably because I spoil them with treats and trips that I will not allow my wife to give. Children need discipline, without it they have no guidance or respect for their parents. I refuse to let my children walk over me and waste their lives without a value on a proper education. Dear Jane takes painting, piano, singing and etiquette classes. She is such a talented flower, each class she takes with such grace and eagerness, which brings a tear to eye when you watch her recitals. She has a determination that burns like fire when you look into her eyes. Such a domineering little angel for being so young; she will bring out the best in any man she chooses when she grows older.

Vincent is a light that will never burn out, but burn brighter as he grows. He is a couple of years older than his sister and yet he treats her as an equal to him. I could never really understand this, but I suppose the times are changing. He is learning to be a man currently he takes two foreign languages, etiquette and goes hunting with his uncle on weekends once a month (I never was any good at those things). From what I have heard he is getting pretty good with his archery, a proud and decent sport that. I, personally, teach him the ways of comprehending arithmetic and economics. He couldn’t learn these things from his mother, because she is a woman and does things a different kind of way than a man. Regardless, he will be a brilliant businessman one day and I am proud to call him my son.

Their schooling is paid for and their lives are set. The two of them just have to make it through these few small trials and they can start their own families. I have only set aside a little money for the tuition at their colleges but if they plan it out carefully they won’t need it. The money can go to my lovely wife when I pass. But enough about my children, here is my tea? That confounded woman! I bet you she is having one of her episodes again.

Well, that is something. I went to go check on my tea and the house is empty. There were things tossed about as if in anger. I find that very strange, as I didn’t hear a sound, not even from the bird. Wait, the bird died, I’ll need to review my notes; I seem to be confused on what day it is again.

– Edward D. Mandeville

We were in the sitting room alone; she shyly glanced up at me and averted her eyes quickly when she saw me staring. A small smile played across my face as she fidgeted with her dress as we sat in silence. Lenoíre… She was to be my wife, it had been arranged by our parents, and I was 19 and she 15. I was a tad too old to have any marriages arranged. I am considered a man by now and able to choose my own bride. Since I was just out of school, it only made sense for my family to take over.

She had golden tresses that fell into her face now and again as she moved, which she would quickly brush away. I tried talking to her a couple of times, but it would seem she would have nothing of it. She gave me short responses, if any at all and would nod or shake her head if necessary. I would think she didn’t like me if it weren’t for her slight blushes and stifled giggles. This told me she was nervous, but I had no idea why. She shouldn’t be nervous around me, I am not hideous and I find myself to be charming enough. I suppose it’s the idea of settling down with someone and being on her own that frightens her. Maybe it was the thought of being on her own with someone she hardly knows.

The silence was an overwhelming, stifling blanket that covered the room to a point of asphyxiation. Our fathers walked into the room and I jumped to my feet, perhaps a tad too quickly. Lenoíre giggled quietly to herself and it brought a smirk to my stern face. My father gave me a disapproving look and nodded as my smirk melted away from my features. She followed me soon after and stood gracefully but shaken. Her father gave her an approving look and one that was to encourage bravery and love. Although the situation, in itself was awkward, it was like the first breath of fresh air, relieving and beautiful.

The wedding itself was exquisite, in my opinion; she had everything she could ever want. She was of simple mind and didn’t want anything extravagant. Her family could afford it if she wanted it though. She didn’t come from a small unknown family. She had some importance to her, which was a reason why I was marrying her. With the two families combining it was made into an arrangement of sorts. Both become profitable in the end, combining also the businesses our family owned. She wanted lilies, white roses and a sprinkling of spring flowers for the floral arrangements, simple finger foods for the reception and a nice light sparkling cider. With the flowers in her hair, the perfect gown to suit her figure and the dainty shoes that made her stand straight and tall like a ballet dancer – she was the picture of a goddess.

Nothing could separate me from her at that moment and her name always echoes in my heart; she belongs to me and me alone. I acquired all the necessities to make her life easier for the transition and continue to give to her what she needs and desires. She bore me two beautiful children and has done nothing but good for me. She makes me my meals, makes sure I keep to my schedule, and takes care of everyone if we take ill. She is a saint in my eyes and no one can tell me different.

Not until recently has she had her episodes, I can’t figure out why or how she had come down with such fever. She erupts as if she had been abused for years and had enough. The tantrums are as if she were pregnant again and had no control over her emotions. I don’t know what to make of it and the stubborn woman refuses to see a doctor.

– Edward D. Mandeville

I have lived here in Barbaroy for most of my life. From the beginning, my parents have made a life for themselves in finance and starting their own advisory company. Growing under their guidance and instruction brought me not only closer to them, but also learning to respect and admire them. They came from nothing and grew into something more. I can only wish to accomplish as much as they have in their lifetimes. They helped me through my schooling and I graduated with honors. College was a breeze, I thought it would be somewhat of a challenge, but it seems as though I have more smarts than I was given credit for. It was about time I was paid my due because with the honors program under my belt, I landed a blasted good occupation. I don’t work for my father, although I could at any time, he has welcomed me to the opportunity many a time.

I never chose any other lifestyle that had been laid out before me. There are several roads I could have taken. Like the many winding streets throughout the city, any decision can be overwhelming. Persistence and the want to learn was a thing that was driven into me since birth, it seems. I wanted nothing more than to go to school to learn, build and grow as an engineer, a father, a husband and lastly – a person.

When I was a young boy, I was offered to go and join a group of children that had been mischievous in nature. They caused all sorts of trouble around the city, but I would have none of it. I didn’t offend them in any manner, just told them matter-of-factly that I was going to attend and complete school. Of course they responded with jokes and pranks for a while about how stupid I was for choosing the “girl’s way out”, or what have you. Those actions all come natural to any child when it comes to maturing, in my opinion.

The Barbarodian cityscape is all I’m accustomed to. I fear that if I were to leave the city, I would feel homesick or perhaps lost without the normal jagged edges of the buildings in the horizon. Or the smokestacks of the factories that line the city or the bustling streets that I am so fond of. The noise and flow of Barbaroy works together, bred as if it were a factory or a clock itself. The puzzles and gears within itself moving bringing light itself to Xadune. Without our beautiful nation, I fear the world would be lost. We are bred as geniuses. Not to offend, but I do believe that we hold, somewhat, more power than the rest of the nations. Perhaps that is just the way of thinking here.

We engineers, don’t think much anything else besides our work.

Speaking of, I wonder what happened to that bird. I bet Lenoire forgot to take care of it and it broke. I don’t know what I’m going to do with that woman. Then again, I don’t know what I would do without her. She does, on the other hand, she does cause a ruckus.

– Edward D. Mandeville

The heat in Barbaroy is excruciating sometimes, so unbearable that you hardly want to move. But move we must to accomplish our goals and show the world what we, Barbarodians, are made of. We constantly strive to be the best and that’s what we have proven to the world. We make the best things and provide excellent service.

My father owned this clock shoppe for the longest time. His father started it when he was just reaching maturity and they had been moving forward like a Greachen merchant vessel. Making progress and thinking of new and intriguing ideas to apply to their works. I, on the other hand, have had the opportunity of helping my father all of these years and had learned from, what I consider to be, the best. He sold his company either before I was borne or when I was too young to remember its’ existence.

From what I have heard, the business made him a large profit, which had helped him and my mother open up their financial advisory company called “The Merchant’s Till” They provide loans, help those in need get on a stable budget and meet their financial deadlines/goals. Being extremely proud they tell stories about the little clock shoppe that could and succeeded. If you put your mind to it, anything is possible, or so they say.

It has been very cold in the house as of late. Not because of the weather, because that is quite opposite. It is lonely and it is starting to get dank, I think. Maybe if the children and my wife would come home things would be different. The house would be more active than it is and all of the bustling would make things livelier.

But unfortunately, they have not, as of yet and I am beginning to worry. I don’t know how long it has been because my projects keep my mind focused on only that one thing, forgoing eating or sleeping some times to get minor things accomplished. Although, I do believe, that this is my greatest project in my entire career. Regardless if others wish to purchase it, it will make things more bearable at home.

– Edward D. Mandeville

Oh, look how pathetic these writings are… Memoirs to express his feelings and his love for me… To think that I had wasted so much time with a man who took so much effort into ignoring his family, “for the greater good of his creations”. Bastard… I have become more stoic than anything else, I believe, due to the circumstances in which I have been through. The children are fine without their father and I have managed without him doting on me or taking care of this family since day three.

Although, it seems that there are other issues that have stirred the pot while he had been on his rampage of recreating our family… It seems as though a group of people had caused some mischief within Barboroy and some of these people were of… ill repute within our land…well to us anyhow, as I don’t know them personally, that I’m aware of.

I wonder what happened to all of the politics?

-Lenoire Mandeville

February 22, 2021February 22, 2021

Tale of a Queen

When I was little, my mother left to do what few people do: save the world. I never knew my father. Mom always said he was a kind and brave man. He was the new breed of humans from New Zeal. She would cry tears of joy when she would talk about his boldness, his devilishly good looks, and unwavering faithfulness to her. It is odd, looking back, that my mother would cry. She was never the type. People have told me she was one of the most influential women of her time. I hear stories about her bravery, about her near death encounters and how she would laugh at them. About how no matter how crazy her plan was it always worked. But never about how she would cry.

I remember the stories she would tell me, when I was little, to put me to bed; tales of adventure and excitement. She would craft images of lands so exotic it was almost impossible to believe, and creatures so fierce it seemed nearly improbable for them to exist. Most of the time I would only get wound up and not fall to sleep at all. It would always make her get stern with me, but I know she was only playing and trying to be a good mom. She would remind me so much about how much she loved me. My mother was always so strong and so loving.

In our world, everyone seems to think they have a purpose. Everyone like us is striving to be more than they can be. We are nothing but a handful off exceptions that, when you think about it, are not really the exception; we are just striving to be. Most people say they are going to save the world, but what they do matters almost for not in the grand scheme of things. The over exaggerations and eccentric thoughts of most always makes us believe we are on a mission. But in truth, the only mission we are on is to prove ourselves to ourselves. So, when I say my mother left to do what few people do, believe me when I say she actually left to do what she said she would. I never saw my mother again, and the world did not end that year as it should have.

I was seven the night my mother left. In the care of some of her closest friends I was left. Not that I am mad at her for that. When she left, my two aunts went with her. Mom was the middle child of the three, which meant she was the glue of the family. At least that’s what she would always say. It’s hard for me to recall them. I know one was very tough and had red hair. The other was often quiet, but always so sweet. She had two children. I know that. Twins, one boy and one girl. They were just a bit older than me, and after that night I never saw Providence again, I know she did well for herself. That I checked in on. However, I did bump into Holy one more time in his life after that night.

I grew up on the deck of a ship, and when I wasn’t there I was in a temple of Vox. Funny how things work out over time. The women mom left me with were a motley crew, but they were the best anyone could ask for. Most would say I was robbed of my childhood, but I think I am still in it at times. By the time I was a teenager I could handle almost any vessel, and I made sure to get all life had to offer.

I was born over two centuries ago. My mother and father were human, just like their mother and father was. As much as she would probably scold me for following in her footstep, I too do my fair share of saving the world. At least, that’s how I view it. I have looked death in the eye and laughed. I have seen the world, inside and out. I have been to stars beyond our own, held a one on one personal conversation with more than one of your “powers” , seen the past with my own eye and I know where this world is heading.

When I was in my late teens I separated from my surrogate family for a test of myself. I set out to venture the world and make sure I could survive. They did leave me with a few of my mother’s possessions. Among them were the family sword and a map to nothing. Most people would have explored the map more, I know, but I felt it needed to wait till a later date. I did what I was raised to do, and I did it quite well: I took what I wanted.

I remember my first real trip to the Capital city of Revrent. The walls seemed to stand so tall. Built around a mountain of black lava frozen in time, the gleaming white walls of the main keep would call out to all as you approached the grand city. I highly recommend visiting if you ever get the chance. Spiraling roads that always seeming to climb upward surround the citadel and I will say that they do have one of the most formable defenses I have seen in my years. Of course, what I was doing was much smaller scale for what they had in mind. So it was impressive, and that’s about it.

Then, gaining entry into the castle was relatively easy if you were female. I hear that’s changed a little since then. None-the-less, the information I gained about the lay out and location of items within the keep was spot on and well worth the price I paid for it. ‘Course, the problem didn’t lay in getting the Royal jewels, as most will tell you, it was getting out with them. And for this I had three plans of operation laid out depending on the situation.

I will stop here to lay down a little guidance for anyone new to the field or so far just getting by by luck: always plan for the worse. If you have three well laid out plans, make sure you have a fourth for when the shit hits the fan. Because all you’re planning, all your hard work, and all your time is really just wasted in the end. Personally, I say just do the damn thing and talk about it later and embellish how you “had” plans to begin with but in the truth you just flew by the seat of your pants.

So there I was with my pretties. In the main hall of Castle Revrent surrounded by what was at the time the beginning of the Raven Special Forces and the prince himself, which if you are not aware was a damn good fighter. I never liked show-offs with the quarterstaff after that brawl. Lastly, in the group of death about to jump me was the Palace’s priest of Trom, I think. Regardless that bastard found it in his duty to follow me to his death.

Now when you use explosives the first time it sort of takes you by surprise. I mean, you know it is going to be loud, you know it is going to be all devastation, but you never really prep yourself for the blast unless you have seen them before. I recommend, before having your fourth back up plan be “blow a hole in the side of the castle”, that you test the plan first to make sure you are not caught in a daze as you continue forth. I also recommend when you jump through a newly made hole in the side of a castle that lies on top of a very tall mountain that you make sure that it is not a wall that sides a cliff that is nearly a mile deep.

It’s hard to tell that time slows down as you free fall. It’s nothing like most would imagine. The sound of the wind alone rushing by is louder than your screams. That is if you are screaming, not that I was. In the majesty of a death-defying fall it was almost unbelievable what you think of. I thought of my mother. How I missed her. How I wondered if she would be proud. I thought of that prince, and how he had defiantly caught my eye. Its then that the sick realities of life catch-up with you. Like the Trom priest that found it in his best interest to jump out after me. What was he thinking?

Who in their right mind would jump out of a hole in the side of a castle that sat atop a mountain side over five thousand feet high? I mean, yea, I did… but I had a ring that magically slowed your descent at the point of impact to always have a safe landing. Hello, have a plan. He, however, didn’t. That was the first time I had gotten someone else’s blood on me. It wouldn’t be my last. Coincidently, I also got blamed for that death, and I had nothing to do with it other than making the hole. Funny thing, I never recalled them ever yelling about the hole. Theft of the Royal Jewels, check; assault on a member of the Royal Family, check; murder of a member of the Order of Trom, wrongfully check; but never destruction of Kingdom property… explain that one to me.

Youth, understanding it will never be fully comprehended by those who have it. My escape from the grounds was roughly well planned out. I was on the opposite side of the castle that I planned to be on, but things happen. Needless to say I had to steer clear of Revrent for a bit. But if I hadn’t I would have had the chance to spend a small time in the Gates. And if I would have never visited the Gates I would have never been swept up by the tales of the ancient oddities lost now found: the flying ships.