March 16, 2018 Issue

Message from the Head of PR

We are Social Media Accessible in a variety of places: Facebook (Group: All Hail LegendMUD), Twitter, Discord, and Reddit.

The Immmortal community has been HARD at work updating the code, the areas, the help files and everything in between. It's been a LOT of fun to work on this stuff with Rufus, Nestor and (newish Immortal) Cap.

When Rufus and Nestor came back they brought energy and knowledge to coding and building respectively. Cap has proven invaluable, not only is he a great guy but he's also a 'power player' who knows more about how the game actually works than anyone on the staff save perhaps Lamia. Him taking his 'power playing' abilities over to 'power building' has led to some excellent additions to the MUD experience.

Finally, as an oldbie Imm myself I want to take a moment to thank Mertjai and Lamia. Their approach to leadership has been one of openness and creativity. There are very few 'sacred cows' left, everything is up for discussion and when a consensus is reached the staff is encouraged to act quickly and well.

It's a breath of fresh air and I encourage you all to come back and check out all the changes I will list below in updates.

- Huma

Architectural Work with Rufus

New Skills

Dual Wield: Yup, two weapons against one cup bearer
Riposte: a Parry ability
Bastion: a Tank ability; Available to Kleinstadt Citizens Only
Heroic Rescue: a Tank ability
Charge: Used with and without Mounts
Retreat: Upgraded, technically, but the overhaul was huge
Coup de Grace: Auto-Kills NPCs once specific factors are met
Arcane Mastery: Allows a "Pure Mage" build, in which a melee weapon is not used by the PC.
Make Oil: a Druidic ability
Powder: a Druidic ability; Available to Taran Citizens Only

New Attributes

Spell Damroll: One point in spell damroll is equal to 1% gained in spell damage.
Spell Critical: Each point increases the odds your having a 'critical' success with your spell.; A critical adds 15 spell damage to a spell's power.
Mana Reduction: Each point decreases the amount of mana it costs to cast spells for the player.; This does not lower the ability of the spell, only the cost.
Concentration: Each point lowers your chance to fail a spell cast or a brewing attempt.; For every 2 points of concentration, surgery improves by 1 point.; For every 5 points of concentration first aid improves by 1 point.
Ranged Accuracy: Works for both bows & guns.

New Spells

Boil Blood: a Kere 'Damage Over Time' spell
Empathy: a Vina healing spell; Caster must be Good-aligned & grouped with target
Fish: a Kere spell
Meteor: a Vina damage spell
Heightened Senses: a Druidic spell; Raises Perception by 3 & Ranged Accuracy by 12
Mental Focus: a Druidic spell; Raises Mind by 2 & Concentration by 10
Guardian Angel: a Kere healing spell
Prescience: a Druidic spell; Raises Perception by 5 & the Perception cap to 110
Raze Dead: a Kere damage spell; Exceptionally effective against Undead NPCs
Remedy: a Druidic spell; Offers a short-duration massive-buff to HP Regeneration
Shimmering Portal: a Kere spell; Akin to Recall but can be used by multiple PCs for as long as the spell lasts
Spiritual Epiphany: a Druidic spell; Raises Spirit by 5 & the Spirit cap to 110
Summoner's Attunement: a Kere spell; Allows a summoned charmie to do many fun things
Summoner's Healing: a Kere spell; Used to heal a summoned charmie
Vengeance: a Kere buffing spell; Raises the target's damroll by 5

Updated Spells

Bridge of Will: Restores mana to the target
Cloak of Thorns: Can now be cast on others, who must be grouped with the caster
Evil Thoughts
Plague: Now 'Deadly Plague' and a 'Damage Over Time' spell
Poison: Now 'Deadly Poison' and a 'Damage Over Time' spell
Ring of Fire: Can now be cast on others, who must be grouped with the caster
Turn Undead: a Vina damage spell; Exceptionally effective against Undead NPCs

Property Brothers: Nestor

New Area: The Sunken City of Ys

All Levels, but be wary! Includes small run areas for lvl40+

The Sunken City of Ys is a Breton legend from the westernmost region of France. A long time ago, Ys was rumored to be the most beautiful city of the civilized world. But, the twisted fate of the city saw its princess, Dahut, open the gates of the great dike and invite the sea to drown Ys and its cursed inhabitants.

In the bay of Douarnenez, sailors and farmers still tell today that the sounds of the Cathedral bells of Ys can be heard from below the waves.

New Area: Sumer

All Levels, but be wary! Some quests, cities, & regions are meant for higher levels.

The Epic of Gilgamesh is the first known written Epic. It dates back to the 3rd Century, BC and was written first in Sumerian and later in Akkadian, the language of the Babylonians and Assyrians. The surviving copies of the Epic exist in a dialect called Standard Akkadian or in Old Babylonian.

The Epic is a story of many of the basic issues of the human condition. It describes an individual, Gilgamesh, King of Uruk as he gains a friend in a wild man, Enkidu. It describes their journeys together as great friends and the loss that Gilgamesh feels as his friend is killed. The Epic follows Gilgamesh's attempts to deal with his loss. Like many people faced with the death of a close friend, Gilgamesh faces denial and attempts to bring Enkidu back from death.

New Area: King Solomon's Mines

Solomon, the fabulously wealthy and wise king of Israel expanded the borders of his kingdom far beyond Judea. He was also known to be versed in magical arts with many tales from the Bible, the Kabbalah and the Qu'ran mentioning his mastery in the arts of manipulating artifacts, amulets and his relationship with many angels.

Solomon, during his long reign, fell in love with the Queen of Sheba, leader of a distant realm, far in the depth of Africa. To seduce the king, the Queen offered him diamonds, rubies and other treasures that came from fabled mines in her kingdom.

After Solomon and the Queen of Sheba put an end to their affair, the king sent troops and envoys to locate the mines and obtain its riches for himself. None of the many men he sent to the kingdom of Sheba ever came back and Solomon passed away without ever being able to find the legendary mines. Since then, the mines are a place of legend and at the beginning of Industrial times, with explorers from Europe and the British Empire setting up expeditions throughout Africa, the hunt for King Solomon's mines is now as fierce as ever!

Property Brothers: Cap

New Area: Abilene, Kansas

All Levels; You know, a lil' somethin' for everyone
1870 provides a snapshot of two geographically separate destinations in Kansas which combine to tell a compelling story; Abilene, 'The First Cowtown', and The Diminished Osage Reserve. Three main groups of people lived in these areas.

The pioneers or settlers believed it was their manifest destiny to expand across North America, settling on new land that gradually expanded the territory of the United States. The majority survived by farming however the weather and pests in Kansas made growing crops a risky business. Many ended up broke and desolate. Settlers first founded Abilene, then known as Mud Creek, in 1857.

After the railroads expanded west to Abilene a visionary businessman called Joseph McCoy built a stockyards, stables and a hotel. Cowboys drove longhorn north from from Texas to Abilene to sell to the lucrative markets in the north and east of the United States following the civil war. They were sometimes ambushed by Native American parties on the Chisholm trail and, having arrived in Abilene, often kept to the south of the railway. The settlers and the cowboys did not get on and didn't mingle. The newfound wealth supplied by the cattle trade brought an element of lawlessness to Abilene. Texas Street was the go-to destination for cowboys to spend their hard earned money on gambling, prostitution and drinking in the many saloons. When violence broke out amongst the cowboys gunfights would often follow.

The Osage Nation of native Americans had been ceding land to the United States since the turn of the 19th century and were still repeatedly finding settlers encroaching their land. They were a forward-looking tribe that knew they had to 'move with the times'. Jesuit Missionaries established the Osage Mission after the Osage asked the Government to educate their children. The Osage knew that it was only a matter of time until the land was overrun by settlers once again and most accepted that they would have to move into the Indian Territories.

Heroic Equipment

For Level 50 Characters Only
Heroic Gear is net 6 stat (or in the case of two-handed weapons net 12), bonded, has magical-only AC and can not be fixed by any means. The rent cost is competitive with existing net 5 equipment.

Heroic gear is only available to characters with a minimum of 40 million regular (NOT era) experience points.
Heroic gear costs 15 million regular experience points to acquire.
In addition to the experience cost there may or may not be a gold cost, or a quest to complete for the gear.
- If there is a quest involved, it will be repeatable - though the cost (in experience points, and possibly gold) will also be repeatable.
The AC bonus should NOT be effected when heroic gear is damaged, it should retain the full AC bonus until the item scraps. For example, the championship belt will always give -10AC whether it is in perfect condition, moderately damaged or falling apart, unless templated in the future due to stat issues.
Due to the unique nature of heroic gear, any new heroic items added to the game will always be announced WITH the stats listed, possibly with hints on where to locate the new equipment.
Every piece of heroic gear is templated, which means that if something isn't working as intended then heroic gear could be subject to change - if we do change it, that will also be announced.
No heroic gear can be repaired by any mortal means. This means that it will eventually scrap and need to be replaced.
There is at least one NPC in game who can repair Heroic Gear. Some limitations may apply.

Daily Quests

Herodotus dishes out solo and group quests daily, and a community quest weekly. Handsome rewards are granted to those who complete them. He resides at The Docks of Ithaca, The White Cliffs of Dover and The Docks of Casablanca.

To start a solo or group quest you must start by asking Herodotus in person. The weekly community quest does not require speaking to Herodotus first, you will receive credit as long as you are level 50, and in a group which kills one of the mobs listed for that weeks quest.

TELL HERODOTUS SOLO, GROUP or COMMUNITY to receive a helpful report on each respective quest.

When you have completed a quest be sure to visit Herodotus for your reward. This applies in the era that you finish the quest in.

NOTE: Community quests reset at 5am system time on Mondays.

Player News

XP Achievements

Albina has reached 100 million experience!
Bantaro has reached 100 million experience!
Merlock has reached 100 million experience!
Pekah has reached 100 million experience!
Sabkhat has reached 100 million experience!
Valko has reached 100 million experience!
Seraphina has reached 300 million experience!
Svartur has reached 300 million experience!
Svartur has reached 400 million experience!
TheThing has reached 400 million experience!
Lurkalot has reached 500 million experience!
Lurkalot has reached 600 million experience!
Florrie has reached 700 million experience!
Lumpy has reached 700 million experience!
Lurkalot has reached 700 million experience!
Florrie has reached 800 million experience!
Invincible has reached 800 million experience!
Lurkalot has reached 800 million experience!
Vansquisher has reached 800 million experience!
Florrie has reached 900 million experience!
Lurkalot has reached 900 million experience!
Florrie has reached 1 billion experience!
Sap has reached 1 billion experience!

Clan Activity

The United Surgeons of Legend was formed.
Deadpool's Pants was formed.
Intempesta Nox was formed.
Scholomance Clan was formed.
Ordo Arcai was formed.
DAYS was formed. And disbanded. That's how I feel about schedules, too.
Deadpool's Pants was disbanded for low membership. Poor Deadpool.
New Character Helpers was formed.

Description Change: Hanson

Struggling to open his eyes, Dave "Killer" Hanson blinked back his dizziness and pain from the soft light of the room. Florrie fluttering about the room heard his audible groan of discomfort, knowing full well that this was going to be another bad one, she took a deep breath and decided that it was time to try the "talk" again.

'Dave, it's okay, you've had another concussion' she cooed softly, trying to not make it any more painful, 'You know, that is the second one this season, you really need to start to think about your future, our future together! We're about to be married, I want you in one piece, not Borken!' A low rumble of disapproval was all she got in return.

Florrie in typical fashion, fluttered her wings in disapproval and gave her head a firm shake, she was having none of this, they had had this argument too many times for her liking, and this time she wasn't going to budge, this time, she'd convince him!

Snuggling up to him Florrie had an idea, she whispered in his ear, 'You know, I think I know something you could do, it would be a trifle safer than going out and protecting all your teammates and I bet it'd be more fun too!' Dave struggling a little managed to prop himself up on a pillow, nestling Florrie in his arms where he could look at her, 'Mmmhum, and what would this be my little persistent pixie?' he managed, 'Am I to apply to some school, and become a school marm?' A small tinkling giggling laugh escaped Florrie before she could marshal herself. 'No silly, well not exactly, what, what if you taught people here how to play Hockey? I mean, nobody in Italy, or Paris has ever heard of it! You could be a sensation!'

Laying back, in quiet contemplation, Dave gave her a little squeeze and pondered aloud; 'You know, I don't think I've ever been happier, and I am getting kinda tired of always answering the bell for the boys, don't get me wrong, the brotherhood, the bond of the team, they have always come first for me, I never thought of doing anything different.'

'But.' Florrie interjected.

'But indeed', he continued, 'But, I am getting too old, to keep up with these youngin's in the league now, I'd rather go out on top, with my head held high, than fade into obscurity. I like it, but it will have to be in Paris, I don't think the Italians will give up their football to come out to a rink with us, even if we fill the water bottles with vino.'

'Florrie my dear, I think it's time to call a press conference, I won't hang up my skates, but I am going to retire from the NHL, and thanks to you, I am going to start a hockey school!' Dave emphatically slapped his knee, making Florrie jump a little, as he swept her up in his arms giving her a huge hug and kiss. 'You know, I think I will like being a Retired NHL enforcer, it has a nice ring to it.' he said with a small chuckle. 'Now, let's go see Coach about who owns the Chiefs, so we can get me retired shall we?' Nodding happily Florrie agreed, and they left in search of Coach.

Henceforth Hanson shall be known as:
a retired NHL enforcer
Free of his teammates, Dave Hanson relaxes footloose and fancy free

Description Change: Luvior

After many years of searching I was no closer to the answers than when I had started. My origins remained a mystery. My father's legacy was still hidden deep within the dark halls of history.

Time was slipping from my grasp. Truth eluded me and took sleep and fulfillment into hiding. My body was breaking down and my mind was on the brink of shattering. But the search was more important than all of that. So, I did the only thing I knew could keep me on the course.

I knew that what I was about to do was irreversible. After all, I had known *her*. Through her I knew about the impending changes, the weaknesses, and most importantly - the defeat of time.

Yes, I sought her out again and told her of my plan. She smirked and invited me inside. We made some awkward small talk but she could see I came with a purpose. It wasn't like we hadn't talked about it before.

She drained what little life remained in me and I knew she loved every second of it. I can't recall how long I slept, but I do remember waking with but one thought in my mind.

'I will crush father time and suck the marrow from his bones.'

Old Short: a disheveled vagabond with grey eyes
Old Long: A mottled grey cloak falls over the small frame of this dark-complected man.

New Short: an urbane gentleman
New Long: Draped in shadow and silk, this gentleman stands here dressed to kill.

Player Submissions

A Pixie's Wedding Dress

Florrie stomped her foot and crossed her arms across her chest as she glared at her reflection in the mirror. The fabric of the gown she was wearing made soft swishing noises as she turned to get a better view of the back of the dress.

"It's just not right," she said as she petulantly dropped to the floor, almost disappearing into the mounds of tulle that made up the skirt of the gown.

Fleur, watching her friend from a safe distance away, smiled, "It's not that bad," before she stepped forward to help extricate Florrie from the masses of material.

The shop was empty except for the two young women and a rather harried looking young shop assistant who was currently busy returning the shop to order after Florrie's shopping spree. The soft, soothing music being played did not seem to be having the desired effect on the people in the shop.

"They're all wrong!" Florrie wailed as she flapped her wings in annoyance, sending a cloud of pixie dust into the air.

"There have been some nice ones, and there's still one more you haven't tried on," Fleur pointed out.

Florrie sighed as she once more made her way to the changing room to try on yet another gown before returning to once again glare at her reflection in the mirror.

She turned this way and that in front of the mirror, trying to get a good view of herself, and asked, "Does this one make my butt look big?"

Fleur giggled, "Florrie, nothing can make any part of you look big."

Florrie spared a moment to glare at her friend.

"It's my wedding dress, it has to be perfect! And this one chaffs my wings. Human clothes just aren't designed to account for wings."

"If you like the dress, I'm sure we could get it altered..."

"No. None of them are right, even if we had them altered for my wings." Florrie paused, a small frown creasing her forehead. "Do you think Hanson would mind if I wore something more pixie-like?"

"Oh, Florrie, you know he wouldn't. He'll be happy with whatever you are or aren't wearing."

Florrie giggled, "True. Then I have just the thing in mind, orchids and lily petals. Let's go see if we can have it made!"

It was with a sigh of relief that the shop assistant closed, and locked the door behind the two young ladies. It was going to take her forever to clean up all that pixie dust!

A Determined Pixie

Florrie pushed a stray lock of purple hair out of her eyes. Her tiny face was set in a look of determination as she glared off into the distance. She wasn't going to let them best her this time! A small frown momentarily creased her forehead, it didn't feel right being there without her Hanson. In fact, if her mission wasn't so important she wouldn't be there without him at all. She had thought building a hockey school would have kept him closer to home.

'Recruiting' or something, he'd called it. She didn't pretend to understand it. But then, she didn't understand half the things humans did. In that moment, all Florrie cared about was that Hanson wasn't there with her, and she missed him. And she was probably about to die without him.

Calling upon the powers of nature, and a pinch of pixie dust, Florrie summoned a doppelganger to help her. With a final determined flap of her wings, she nocked her arrow and drew back her bowstring, aiming at the nearest shade. She scrunched her eyes tight as she made a wish and let loose her arrow. The shot was true. Her battle had begun.

Her battle raged for days, but nothing was going to stand between her and her mission. She was outnumbered a hundred to one, nay a thousand to one. One little pixie to take on all of hell.

She fought bravely. Bloodied and bruised, she persevered, stopping only for a moment to tend to her wounds before carrying on in her assault. One by one she faced them, her sword flashing in the unnatural light. And one by one they fell, a diminishing pile of dust the only tribute to their existence. Through the black winds, and the mires, over the black mountain, past boiling rivers and forests of burning trees. She would let nothing stop her.

The large demons, called hellrakers, gave her a moment's pause. They were large brutish creatures, that even a determined pixie would not be able to subdue. There are some things in the world that even a pixie cannot overcome alone. But, with guile and speed, she managed to sneak past them. The hellrakers would have to wait until she returned with Hanson to meet their end. But she would be back for them.

Finally, exhausted and battle weary, Florrie reached her goal. The sandy shores of a beach that was guarded by a winged creature.

As she stumbled onto the sandy shores, the winged, graceful lord said to her, 'It's good to see you have made it safely here once again, Florrie.'

Florrie responded with a tired nod as she collapsed onto the sand. Her mission was almost complete, and then she could rest. With a smile that transformed her face, she reached out and added her own tracings to the words that had been left in the wet sand. When she was done, she sprinkled it liberally with pixie dust, to ensure her words would remain, safe from the fickle moods of the tides until the one they were for would see them. She leaned over and kissed the sand next to her words, before wearily getting to her feet.

Face radiant, she turned to the winged Lord who had been waiting somewhat impatiently for her to complete her task, and said, 'I am ready,' before disappearing in a beam of light.

Florrie Goes Shopping

"Hurry up, Florrie wailed as she tugged on Dave Hanson's arm, "We need to get there before it closes." Still yanking Hanson's arm, Florrie dashed off in the direction of Sweeny's furniture store. Despite his height and long legs, the retired NHL enforcer had difficulty keeping up with the bundle of energy and pixie-dust that was his wife.

"Why do we need new furniture, anyway? We have a perfectly comfortable couch, and lots of pixie pillows"

"Because..." there was an extra sweetness to her tone that usually meant trouble for someone. The look on Hanson's face said he hoped it wasn't him. "Because dearest, LeRoy ate the coffee table. Yes. Ate it. Or did you not notice the huge chunk missing from it?"

Not waiting for a reply, Florrie dragged a grumbling Hanson into the furniture shop.

How may I help you today," Mr. Sweeny greeted the couple.

"Well, I have a list " Florrie began rummaging through her numerous bags before gleefully pulling out a somewhat crumpled cocktail napkin that was covered in writing. "Top of the list is a coffee table."

Mr. Sweeny showed them several of the coffee tables that he had in stock, but none of them suited.

"No, were looking for something .. pixiefied. I was thinking something pink and sparkly."

Hanson hid a smirk by looking very interested in a desk that was on display in the corner.

"I think we can arrange something, I can speak with some local artisans"

"What about mushroom shaped," Hanson suggested, eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Yes!" Florrie agreed, "Mushroom-shaped!"

Mr. Sweeny looked somewhat nonplussed. "Mushroom shaped" he mouthed the words slowly. "I'll contact you next week about when you can pick it up."

Fluttering her wings happily, Florrie dragged Hanson out of the shop in search of other items on her home decorating list.

♥♦♥♦♥♦♥

Florrie stopped to consult her crumpled napkin that had her notes on the furniture she wanted to buy for her home.

"I think perhaps Mr. Sweeny would not be able to supply us with the other pieces I have in mind," she commented to Hanson.

"What did you have in mind, my pixie princess?" Hanson inquired with a playful wiggle of his moustache.

Florrie resolutely ignored his attempts to distract her (for it is rare for a pixie to be able to resist tweaking a wiggling moustache) and consulted her haphazardly-written list again.

"Chairs."

"Chairs? We have chairs."

"Yes, we have old chairs. That came with the house. Besides they'll clash with the new coffee table."

"Wait a minute, there my petite precocious pixie, replacing the coffee table I understand, but do we really need to replace the chairs, too?"

"Dear one, they clash. Some grubby old floral armchair and a tatty old blue velvet thing. They simply do not go with a sparkly, pink mushroom-shaped coffee table."

Hanson chuckled as he asked, "So tell me, what exactly does go with a sparkly, pink mushroom-shaped coffee table?"

"I was thinking something organic. Something made of clover, maybe?" Florrie paused for a moment to consider. "And I think I know just the person who can help us with it."

Without waiting for further response from her hockey stick toting husband, Florrie grabbed his hand and dashed away on her errand.

Dragging a bemused, yet somewhat reluctant, Hanson behind her Florrie arrived at the Druid Compound calling out, "Diancecht!!" as she entered.

Emerging from his study, Diancecht, the Archdruid greeted her with a smile, "Florrie, the Pixie! What brings you to our compound today?"

"Diancecht, my friend!" she said as she bestowed a peck on his cheek " It's Florrie Hanson now," she gave Hanson a beaming smile and a quick squeeze of his hand. "I was hoping you could help me with a small favour..." Florrie explained to her old druid friend that she was looking for a chair made from clovers.

"It needs to be just the right size for a pixie, yet sturdy enough to hold my six-foot-one husband."

"Of course, of course, it would be a good opportunity for our apprentices to practice some small magic. Wait here a moment, please."

Diancecht disappeared into the apprentice's workroom, only to return a few minutes later, carrying a tiny four-leaf clover. "Here you are, little pixie, in return for past assistance to this druid community, it is a great pleasure to give you this. Simply place it into your home and it will grow into a woven chair, as if it had sprung from the ground."

Hanson eyed the four-leaf clover suspiciously. "Are you sure this chair of woven clover will hold a hockey player like me?"

"Oh absolutely," Diancecht assured him, "It is magical, after all."

"Thank you so much, I knew I could count on you!" Florrie beamed at the four-leaf clover a moment, before shoving it into her bag.

Giving Diancecht a hug, and barely giving Hanson time to wave goodbye, Florrie dashed off to her next stop on her grand shopping adventure.

♥♦♥♦♥♦♥

Once more, Florrie grabbed Hanson's hand and dashed off dragging him after her.

"Where are we off to now, my pixie-wife?"

"Just one last stop, dear one, I promise."

"Where are we headed?"

Florrie once more consulted the, now rather tattered cocktail napkin on which she had her decoration ideas scribbled. "There's only one place to get this. The Abbey."

"The abb" Hanson's words were cut off as his wife took off in a whirlwind of pixie-dust.

Hanson was still coughing and spluttering from the face-full of pixie-dust as the couple arrived at the Abbey gate. Stopping barely long enough to give him a quick glance to ensure he'd live, Florrie dragged her husband along the cobbled path that lead to the crowded workshop and the lay brother who tended it.

The craftsman greeted the couple with a nod and a smile, "How can I help you folks today?"

While Florrie began explaining to the craftsman what she was looking for, Hanson wandered around the shop looking at the various items for sale. Stopping to look at a rack for holding weapons, he called over to his wife, "This could easily be adapted to holding hockey sticks!"

With a sigh, Florrie fluttered over to her husband, and linking her arm though his, led him back to the craftsman. "We are shopping for chairs today, remember? Why don't you help me pick out one for our house."

"I think a hammock swing would be very nice." Hanson offered.

"I like it! What kind of material should we get it made of?"

Hanson considered the question for a moment before answering, "Honeysuckle. To match your twig slinger."

Florrie giggled. "Why should our chairs match my slinger?"

"Because it just suits you so well."

Florrie was still giggling as she turned to the craftsman and asked, "Do you think you could make us a honeysuckle hammock swing?"

The craftsman eyed Florrie and her rather tall, hockey player of a husband. "I can certainly make you a honeysuckle hammock swing, but, it will be rather delicate."

"Oh it will be just perfect for a pixie!" Florrie practically glowed in satisfaction. "Come dear one, let's go home and talk about decorating the bedroom!"

"Finally, a room I can get behind decorating!" Hanson grinned as he rubbed his hands together.

Sable is the New Black

Your attention, for some reason, has been drawn to a buckler on this knight's arm. "My eyes are up here," he attempts to protest, but yours simply cannot get over how awesome this new piece of equipment looks. Too small to be a proper shield, it bears a spike in its center, perhaps for parrying, or perhaps for delivering a most devastating pimp slap.

Similarly, your eyes move to the vambraces on his arms, designed to be able to block attacks while he wields weapons in each hand. Made, apparently, from 'aphotic lurkinum', whatever that is, they aren't actually black, but sable! But wait, isn't that a small carnivorous mammal inhabiting forest environments primarily in Russia from the Ural Mountains throughout Siberia?! What is this madman doing wearing those on his arms?! But no, this definition of sable actually just means the colour black. Why he doesn't just call the vambraces black is beyond you, and you start to realize how finicky and contrary this admittedly handsome fellow must be, before you peel your eyes away for just a moment... allowing him the time to slink back into the shadows - much like a sable, come to think of it, and disappear.

Seer, Seer, What Do You See?

"Arianne, Lady Kirvel?, where are we going?" Rictor asked, following the woman at a brisk pace. Ari laughed and pulled Rictor along the road, passing by shop after home after shop. "Arianne, please," Rictor laughed. "What is your plan? Surely you could have recruited another Knight? Your father, maybe?"

"No other Knight would have humored me," she said with another laugh, glancing at the knight as she came to a stop outside an inn. "I also think this'll be good for you, Rictor." Her words were hardly more than a purr, her touch on his hand firm as she squeezed his own, her fingers lacing with Rictor's. Arianne opened the door to the inn and motioned for the last Belmont to enter. "Trust me, min venn."

Rictor looked at the young woman for a long moment, an auburn lock speckled liberally with gray falling over his eyes. "You'll be the death of me, and I've fought many wicked things, young lady," he said quietly, though his gentle smile betrayed his stern tone. "I'll trust you."

Arianne bounced on her toes, her dress swaying a bit as she did so. "Then go inside! It'll be exciting and incredibly apparent once you get. In. There!" With a soft chuckle Rictor entered, Arianne following closely after him, her hand still holding tightly to his.

"A... gypsy?" Rictor raised an eyebrow as he looked at Arianne, only a few feet from the only occupied table within the inn. "What sort of game are you playing, little one?"

"First off, I'm not 'little one'. I'm 'trickster princess' if you're going to be like that," Ari said, pointing at Rictor. "Second.... second, you're gonna have your fortune told." She dragged a laughing Rictor towards the young gypsy seated in the corner. "It's going to be great. We're going to look at your love life so you stop making handsome, gushy eyes at me." The young Kirvel pushed Rictor's side and arm and hip until he sat, laughter still sounding from the pair.

The gypsy smirked at the pair as Arianne slunk around Rictor to sit in the chair next to him. "I hopefully won't disappoint," she said, looking between the two. "Though, what is revealed is completely up to the Fates." The knight nodded as he smiled politely at the thirty-something woman sitting across from him. His stormy gaze slowly roamed over her form, taking in the silver foxes and lions upon her, the purples and greens that clung to her body in a casual yet sensual way. Rictor quirked an eyebrow as he glanced at Arianne, who merely grinned at him.

"It'll be fun, Rictor," Arianne said as she handed five gold coins to the gypsy. "Just relax and let what happens happen." After a moment of silence, where the women shared a sly look, Rictor nodded.

"It certainly won't hurt my love life," he said, shrugging as he leaned back in the chair, his arms crossed over his chest. "One reading regarding love, please, Lady Seer."

With a shake of her head, the gypsy shuffled her tarot cards, flipping two over after a moment. "Justice reversed and the Six of Cups," she said with a soft laugh.

"Which means?" Rictor asked, sounding a bit bored. He grunted softly as Arianne nudged his side with her elbow, snickering at her soft hiss of 'be nice'.

The gypsy pointed at Rictor, leaning forward a bit. "It means that you need to stop being so bitter and headstrong while seeking out love. It's contradictory. You won't find it because once you ensnare someone, you chase them off with your refusal to accept what you seek."

"That doesn't mean we're gonna bang," Arianne interjected, pinching Rictor's side.

The knight snorted good-naturedly, his arms uncrossing so he could pinch Arianne in retaliation. "Noted, ladies," he said, his tone warm as he looked between the two. "How much did Miss Kirvel pay you to "draw" those specific cards?"

Arianne gasped, glancing at the gypsy as she gathered her cards and shuffled the deck. "How dare you, Sir Rictor!" Ari half-shouted. "I would never. Love is something special!" Contrary to her tone, however, Arianne smirked at Rictor, a hand resting on his shoulder.

"Nor would I dishonor the Fates in such a way," the gypsy added, flipping a couple cards. The knight snorted and shook his head before standing.

"I meant no offense, Lady Seer," he said to the gypsy with a smile as he pulled Arianne into the chair he had been sitting in. "I would like to make amends by purchasing a reading for this young woman." Rictor took a small side-step, standing behind Arianne's chair, his hands resting on her shoulders. "Was it five coins, Arianne? Why don't you give her six coins."

Arianne gasped, the sound overly-dramatic. "While she's worth it, you owe me once we get back to the Order's hall!" she said, glancing over her shoulder at the now-grinning Rictor. The fortune teller laughed, whispering quiet thanks as Arianne tossed ten gold coins onto the table.

"What will we be asking the Fates about?" the brightly-dressed woman asked Arianne and Rictor, who were busy snickering at each other.

"Our friendship," Arianne said, leaning forward, away from Rictor. The man shrugged and leaned against the chair, his arms crossed over the top of the chair's back. The seeress nodded and shuffled the tarot deck a few times, her gaze focused on the knight and trickster princess. There was an ease about them, she noted, though the way they touched suggested they were more than familiar friends. Flirtation, but the gypsy knew that didn't mean much, that many flirted with no intention to go beyond that. The attention was what they enjoyed, so perhaps, she decided, it was that way with this pair.

The fortune teller cleared her throat as she flipped two cards, drawing Arianne's attention to her. Rictor wasn't fazed, his attention focused on untangling the young Kirvel's hair from the tiara atop her head. "The Devil," she said, smirking as Arianne batted Rictor's hand away, the man apologising for 'ruining her aesthetic'. "And the Ace of Swords, reversed."

"Oh!" Arianne cried, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table. "That's what people imagine the Devil as being? An angry goat?" She swatted at Rictor again as he moved to sit on the chair next to Arianne. "So, knowing what little I do about Christianity, is this a bad card to have drawn?"

With a shake of her head, the gypsy smiled at Arianne. "An angry goat. I like that one," she said as she set the rest of the tarot cards aside. "This right here..." She tapped the Devil. "Isn't necessarily a wicked card. As with all cards, the thought, the emotion behind it being drawn is what makes or breaks the 'goodness' of the draw. He is an emotional card. Power, lust, knowledge, intuition; This card brings it all together." She ignored the small snort from Rictor, her gaze upon Arianne's entranced face. "He suggests that whatever one can manifest in their mind, they can bring forth on Earth. 'As you think, so you are', or to others, 'As above, so below'." Rictor drummed his fingertips against the tabletop, his gaze off to the side. "Is this boring you, Sir Knight?" the gypsy asked, holding a hand out to silence Arianne's nagging at Rictor.

"Not at all!" Rictor said, flashing a charming smile at the gypsy. "I apologise. My attention span isn't quite what it used to be, and there is a bit more to this one than there was to my reading." He smirked and pointed a finger, motioning between the two women. "Are you sure you didn't plan my cards out before we got here?"

The gypsy moved her hand to tap the next card. "Not at all, Sir Knight," the seeress purred. "I'm merely spending more time on this drawing because of your cards." Both Rictor and Arianne made soft, questioning sounds and the gypsy merely smiled. "Upright, the Ace of Swords is a card of harsh reality, of fresh awareness. Which means, reversed as it is, it represents stagnation, or even compulsion. So your cards, Sir, your cards which spoke of taking action, of breaking away from your stubbornness are both shamed and verified by the cards drawn for your companion."

"How so?" Arianne asked, her voice quiet, her tone curious.

"The headstrong nature of Justice reversed is the same as the destructive stubbornness of the Ace of Swords reversed," the gypsy said, tapping the Ace once more. "The Six of Cups represents pleasure as well as being responsible for your emotions. And drawing the Devil as we did, why, carnal knowledge is something represented by him." She smirked, now tapping the horns painted upon the Devil card.

Arianne and Rictor both quickly leaned back from the table at that revelation.

"Nooooooooooope," Arianne said, a blush coloring the cheeks of the typically audacious woman. Rictor merely nodded in agreement with Arianne, motioning towards her as he looked at the gypsy.

"Weeelllll, thank you for the reading, kind seer," he said, standing, an odd quiver to his words. "We both greatly appreciate your time and, ah, will be on our way, now."

Arianne leapt from her chair at that, taking a few steps away from the table. "Yeah, things to see, people to do--- NO. THINGS TO DO, PEOPLE TO SEE."

Rictor nodded, walking after the young Kirvel. "Yes, yes," he mumbled, tossing another gold coin onto the table for the gypsy. "People to see. Not do, but see."

"Farewell, friends," the gypsy called through her laughter as the pair fled from the inn. "Consider what the Fates have seen!"

The Trickster & His Princess

Arianne stormed into the golden chambers, the door slamming against the wall with a loud thud. "What is this" she hissed, slamming a hand down onto Loki's desk, a paper beneath her fingers. The Trickster god raised an auburn brow and slipped a hand around Arianne's wrist.

"I can do many things, daughter," he said with a small smirk as he moved her hand from the page. "But I cannot see through flesh and sinew and bone." The young woman rolled her eyes at Loki's words, though she remained silent as he read over the paper. A slender finger tapped here and there, an odd sound of interest or even appreciation sounding in his throat at the various notes. After a few minutes, he whispered, "Whoever wrote this has an active imagination."

"Whoever wrote this," Arianne said, her voice low, a hint of warning to it. "Is my mother, who is in Midgaard worrying herself sick." She snatched the paper from the desktop before pointing at Loki with an emerald-tipped finger. "Stop your games or I will no longer defend you from Skadi, my brother, or anyone else. Just because you find humor in how you have saved your own ginger-ass in the past doesn't mean my family needs to be a part of it."

Loki looked at the young Kirvel, his brown gaze entirely unamused. "They aren't games, but merely tests." He chuckled, then, and slipped an arm around Arianne's waist. "Your mother was worthy, those who have found me are worthy. I do not know about the other things on that list, but Ragnarok is coming, just as it always has." Arianne tried to pull away from the Trickster, but he held tight, his fingers digging into her side. "She was worthy and we will need her. I will not die again, Princess, so let her worry, as she has discovered some truth."