Big Ass Lore Compendium

[Sir_Therim]

If we get the proper mods, I am thinkin of making a medieval-tech forgeworks.

[Alltrusion]

Dude you should be a novelist, or something. I really liked the battle part, felt real

[emperor bobby]

Thanks. :)

[Ragolution]

One of these days, bobbah, one of these days...

[emperor bobby]

[Ragolution]

Times something dumb annoyed me: 13
Times something important got erased: 4
Times everything inexplicably got erased: 3
Times I couldn't undo the erase: 2
Times it tried to close IE but failed: 5

"The calm amongst the storm." That's a saying I haven't heard in a long while, ye'?

I think it all starts with the first harvest festival I was ever at. It was a day I remember vividly. A great day of firsts and likely the true reason I now live here, in the city. Maybe it was something else. The whorehouses, possibly, or even the taverns, but that ruins the romanticism of the story, doesn't it?

It took me a while to realize a whole year had passed. One could hardly believe the earthen scent of autumn was in the air until they inhaled that musken aroma of ripe fruits and rotted leaves. Once again, as every year, my father carted off to the grandest city for a thousand thousand furlongs. Now only twice had I come with him, to the Forever City, but I would come to be a man in only three years time and it was my place to learn. I remember that my two sisters had stayed ahouse as they were bade. This might've been the first time I realised that everyone has thier place. As I was meant to run my father's farm, they too were meant to become wives for some fisher or maybe someone like the merchant back in our village that everyone called Fat Dave.

I remember the clicking of the wheels on the flagstones beneath us as we approached the great, creaking wooden doors and the heavy iron porticullus that rattled in the swooning wind. The same thick pennants of black, white and red fluttered in the breeze, the Imperial Colours strewn about with the autumn droppings as the whistling gale guided a bushel pf crisp leaves to lie where the Gods deigned them needed.

The Royal Avenue was littered with people that day. From fishwives waggling the days catch in thier meaty grip to finely dressed foreigners, gowned in expensive, richly dyed silks and pleated with jewels; All manners of person haunted the main street on this day and the day's journey to the grain stores was painfully slow. Our family's one horse cantered where it could but slow clops made the pace to where my father's childhood freind took his abode. Quentin d'Mercator was a family freind who had grown up in our little town. Quentin had left our village when both he and father grew to thier 23rd year. He just left, too. No one had even knew he was gone until the next evening.

He always promised father a fat purse of coins if we brought him a cart load of barley for the alehouses and distileries. The money he gave us was always enough to feed us for the winter and father would wheel the cart into the market to stock up on food for the cold. Not until this year, though, had we ever come on the day of the Harvest Festival.

The market plaza was alight with hanging, round lamps from the glittering isles beyond the sea and green flames sprouting from the brass lamps the dark skinned foreigners lit on thier stalls. The sun hung low and orange in the sky and darkened as day sunk into night and the city lights lit themselves up. Hundreds still swarmed the market square. Foreign whores with silky, transparent dresses sulked around every corner and it seemed like no man was without a golden cup of something sweet and strong in his hands. Here, the scents of autumn were swept away by the lingering aroma of expensive wines and the strong, fragrent oils the Forever City was famous for.

Father smiled to me as he looked around the plaza and finally, he pressed a silver Denar into my palm. I still have my doubts as to what he expected me to buy, but in practically no time I found myself sipping a honey-sweet nectar with my arm around a dark skinned woman clothed in the same thin silks and ripe with the scents of sweat and lust.

The first time I got drunk. The first time I had sex. The first time I ever gambled.

The first thing I had done with the silver coin was buy my cup of the wine. The dark-skinned man smiled at me and told me something in his foreign tongue. He handed me a fine pewter goblet full of what he assured me "was his favourite vintage" and "the best in the city". It was a deep, shiny gold in colour and with a sweet scent that reminded me of pumpkins and sugar lace. To this day, I've asked all around the city but no one can tell me what I drank that night. No doubt some foreign brewing that was lost...

Second, after the drink, I took to a gambling table where men threw dice into a bowl and roared loud with amusement whenever someone lost. It took me two hours, but when I walked away I had doubled my father's money. Others did much better (and worse) than I had, but poor as we were then, I felt ontop of the world with my two silver denars. From there I fell into my more childish desires. I bought myself sweets, A new hat, A pair of sandals for my sister and a decanter full of what I thought was "100% pure wish-granting potion". It took me down to my last copper piece when the dark skinned woman took advantage of my drunken state. Someone- A god or a person or a sprite playing tricks had to have kept refilling my goblet. There was no other explaination for why my cup was always full, no matter how much I drank. The same silk-garbed woman was not a maiden, there was no doubt of that, but when I left the Tavern room an hour later, exhausted, I was made a man. I climbed into what I assumed (and luckily it was) my father's cart and passed out ontop of the empty sacks we had used to cart in the grain.

When I had awoken, we were home. It was that simple.

So no, I guess it weren't that year what made me stay. It was something else.

We came back, again, the following year. No Autumnal Festival this time, but something grander that... drew my eye, I suppose. We wheeled into the market square, again, just as the last year to get our supplies for winter. All proceded and I got to smirk as a few of the younger, pretty girls of the city flirted with me. It took me but a few moments to realise what was distracting me as I exchanged smiles with the local maids. Around the center of the square, near the fountain, sat the most.. well.. I don't know how to describe him. He was as if the most perfect example of a Human I had ever seen. His features were fair; his hair was dark like the wood of a chestnut but his skin sat as unusual and was as white as milk against the gold of armor that defined his features. A red silk sash draped over his shoulders and the ruby-encrusted circlet identified him for what he was. He sat, alone, fearless, ontop of the fountain's ledge and seemingly ignored by the bustle of the market. This man- this god among men sat in the turmoil of the busy market square deliberately etching onto a pristine volume of bound vellum. In the heart of the city sat the young Prince Maximillian, wearing the gold-leafed steel that was gift from the same foreigners that organized the Autumn Festival each year. It was my naive thought that his city bred the greatest men the land had to offer.

I still don't know why, but just seeing this man, calm amongst them all the foul and the greedy and the needful made me want to be that. To become the confident man of the city just as the young Prince had. 'course, he's Emperor, now, but still. He may've changed in the years, his hair greyed, his armor dulled, but that immortal image of his youth still lingers in my mind. The perfect man. He was once perfect, as we all must be. It is what we should all hope to become. Where we should hope our heads rule our hearts but still our heart lives free of the world's pain. We should all hope to become the calm amongst the storm.

[Andrew Weasley]

Amazing. This had my attention the whole time and it felt so real. I hope you continue. Please continue! We should have a Harvest Festivle in the Forever City now, we need a RP event to get everyone RPing. Great story Port, keep em up.

[emperor bobby]

An excellent read, rago, I really enjoyed it. your writing is very descriptive, but it doesn't get bogged down, a very tricky balance, that i think you pulled off very well.

[Ragolution]

An excellent read, rago, I really enjoyed it. your writing is very descriptive, but it doesn't get bogged down, a very tricky balance, that i think you pulled off very well.

People tell me my writing's good in small doses. Haha.

[Lt.Azrael]

Diary Entry
Levee Trav Ironbow
Date: Still Unkown.
   So, I found this book. Might as well keep a record of my thoughts. Maybe if something goes wrong, at least my skeleton will have an interesting tale. So, the beginning. I am an elf. Or, a half elf. I've seen elves here, they are more nimble than I, so I obviously am part human. I have no recollection of any part of my life. Only an image, that of a beautiful maiden. Blond Hair, braided, in a dress, with the most remarkable brown eyes you'd ever see, and a smile, the one that means she's laughing, lips slightly parted. That's all I know.
   I awoke on the beach, amidst of circle of stones, some stone, some metal, and one lava, if memory serves correctly. Or maybe there was a pool of lava, I don't rightly know. All I knew was that this wasn't home. At first, I wondered if I had gotten too crazy at some get together, wound up where ever my body fell. But that couldn't be the case, as I soon found out. I found a trail, made of stone, in the woods. I followed it to the Nomas. Interesting people, they are, but that's for another entry. Then, I followed the trail some more, found some people at a tavern. They were nice, gave me a lay of the land, one even threw me some dagger he got somewhere or other, said I'd need it. He was right. The creatures of this land... Not right, not even in the slightest.
   I even managed to nab a few nights rest there, when no one was looking. Well, then as I left to find some answers, I saw a flier for the Ermorian Imperial Army. I figured, 'Hey, I can swing a blade just as well as the next guy, why not?'. As it turns out, diary, I can swing a blade alot better than many of the people here. I was admitted, and became a citizen with that. I gained a name, from whatever I could piece together. I was a TRAVeler, so that worked, and Ironbow sounded intimidating. So many things have happened, nearly a year has passed... I doubt I'll ever find the answers I seek. But, what I wonder is, do I want to know? Might the past be too terrible to bare? The tattoos on my face, they look... evil, almost. Maybe it's the sharp points. And that I have it, and my skill with any blade, signifies something, I don't know, dark maybe. But, this Maiden I mentioned earlier. I know she's important, somehow. Whether she was my betrothed, my bride, or... I hesitate to say this, because I believe inner beauty shows through, and inner ugliness the same, but maybe she's the reason I have no memory, maybe she's why I'm stuck in a land I have no prior knowledge of. It's late, my candle needs to be saved for more important things, so,Good Night, diary.
   You know, I should come up with a name for you. Tenchi. I don't know how, but I know that means something good.
Milit
Trav.
   Entry Two.
   *Small doodles decorate the page, mostly those of the kind to get ink flowing from the pen.*
   Metallicus Trav Ironbow
   Date, still to be determined
   So, Tenchi, I bet you're wondering why my name is different? Well, I left the army. Not long ago, maybe a month or two. I know, that seems like something to put in the diary the day of, well, I immediately switched to the job of miner. Seemed better, I like the underground more. The thrill of finding important minerals, nothing gets me going like that.  I left to find diamond, iron, whatever the world could offer. And it seems to offer lots. But damn, the creatures in the world are only getting worse.
   Earlier, I saw the most peculiar thing. This tall, but almost paper thin beast, black as the devils heart. I looked at it, almost the last mistake I would ever make. I looked at it, and it abruptly turns and looks at me, stares at me. I chuckle and turn back to work. Next thing I know, I'm being lifted off the ground, strangled by this monster. What a horrid thing, pure white eyes, all black, ribs practically sticking out of it's skin. And no mouth or nose, that's what got me. In the moments before it could kill me, I swung my pick, and got lucky. Bless the gods, whoever they are. My pick struck true, planting itself in its head. It dropped a pearl. A purple-ish one. I wonder what it's worth...
   Well, anyway, There are so many things to say, but I've only so much paper to put it on. So, I'll get to the chase. I've been having some off dreams. They involve the maiden I refered to before. She's asking for help. She's in some dark cellar, maybe a dungeon. I don't put much credance to dreams, but still, the one tie I have to my past is now in my dreams, asking for help... Tenchi, I know you won't like it, but I have to save her.
   Okay, I need to get a list going, so, what will I need?
   Okay, I've got one out, vaguely.
   *A list is stuck between the pages, it reads*
   Two diamond swords, maybe a dagger as well.
   Several Diamond Picks.
   Armor, diamond, enchanted against all manner of evil, full body.
   A shield, strong as dragon scale, hopefully.
   A months worth of food. Maybe two(?)
   Hopefully a crew of people to help me. I will need a smith, to make me spare weapons on the fly, a lumber jack for wood, to be used for fires, basic camps, extra materials for the smith. A hunter for the meat.
   *List ends*
   I wonder, Tenchi, is that enough? Do you think? Well, it will take time to gather the supplies, but I may leave regardless of whether or not I have them. Damn, candles nearly out. I need to invest in some glowstone. I need to talk to Quin, maybe. Get some help. Hell, he seems to be the one who would help me with the past anyway.
   P.S. Tenchi, I've been having Ideas about some weapons. Nothing like extra long swords or the like, but something involving long range. I was thinking something that would use the explosive powder of those green monsters. I have a picture.
   *At the very bottom of the page is a detailed drawing of a basic trap door loading rifle. (think the Springfield rifle from the U.S. Civil War, it used cartridges)*
   I don't know though, it might just blow up in my face... It would fire a small metal projectile, at high speed. Theoretically, I could hit a zombie or a skelly at more than a hundred paces, flush in the face, and with ease as well. 
   *The next bit is messy, with splotches on the paper*
   Damn, Candle's gone. I am getting a glowstone in the morning. Oh well. Good dreams, Tenchi.
        Trav.

[Demonizer877]

Sandred was always a lonely fellow. His life was ruled by his job. After years of betrayal, sacrafice and hard work he still hadn't settled down. Novarium had crammed him full of machinery, they wanted the perfect spy capable of not wearing out. His organs now metal and the real ones turned to dust. He never asked for it, but it was what the expedition needed and so he was volounteered for the job.

His eye was always the centre of attention. Always curious people asking about it and complimenting him on it's design. Nobody thought to compliment him on his human features. His hair. His eyes. His skin. No. It would always be the eye. Even his closest friends, that of Novarium all retreated, leaving him forgotten in the dust. Everyone he knew, left without even a simple goodbye. Nobody like him so he could feel something you take for granted; Normal.

He tried working in the city of Ermor but whenever he tried to organise things to help the majority of shops, someone would always intervene. Blades to his throat, death threats and hired mercenaries. He even arranged for his son to work on the senate with much pain staking work. His son would never thank him, his son would arrive in Ermor the day he would die. Sandred had arranged it this way. The day his metal heart would stop pumping artificial blood through his veins was the day his son would come to visit him. Sandred hoped his son would be pleased, his dream of living a life of wonder would be given to his son and made available.

Sandred lay on his bed. Without proper maintenance, his metal heart had grown useless and tattered. As the sullen beat of his heart grew fainter and fainter, he thought one final thought. The sad truth of things;

We live alone... We die alone.

[RanmaChan]

Awww, this is sad, why couldn't you have made it so that his son could be by his father's death bed?  I hate to admit it, but I think I am going to miss you playing a crazy old guy with a stick.  xD

[Andrew Weasley]

R.I.P. Sandred
We should have a proper funeral for him.

[nhart96]

*Reminices about the rp he did with sandred*

[Demonizer877]

Sandred was around since the start of Novarium, which was quite awhile ago in minecraft terms. In my opinion he deserves a funeral so I am going to give it to him even if no-one else turns up. I'm thinking burial at sea or scattering his ashes over Ermor so he'll always be watching you guys even in the afterlife :3

[Ragolution]

Thumb up.

[emperor bobby]

Upon hearing of the death of His Favorite spy, the Lord Admiral, now advanced many years and sustained much the same way that Sandred was, Took off his hat and Had a moment of Silence.
Truely Novarium would feel the absence of the Merchant turned Super-spy.

(Not trying to draw attention away from you're own writing, I Liked it, it was rather sad, and it's a shame that Sandred never really got close to any of the Novarium personal, besides macbeth.)

[Feerman]

That's horrible. It seems like yesterday Marcus was just learning and experiencing his ancestor's life with "Robert". A shame, if his son is a d-bag I'll set him straight.

[Feerman]

The Cerun line is a respected and long existent line, first "established" at the end of the Ermori, and beginning of Ermor.
The line has been long, and has, surprisingly never had a female daughter born. All a line of men. The Family crest is an Eagle behind two crossed swords.

1st - Max Cerun, Freelancer. He did what he could to survive, and that was hard. He lived in the small tribe of Ermori, in a snowy area.

2st - Marcus Cerun, Farmer. When Ermor was first founded, he was a farmer, living under the undeveloped government, as were all families except the Royal Family.
He was always good with a sword, and a chisel. He was a fairly good artist, and his angles were perfect.

3rd - Augustine Cerun, Farmer/Mason. While his father ran a small farm when he was alive, the city was growing. He built a fairly large home. Unlike anyone alive, rather anyone aware to him, he had an interest in the way things worked. He was a farmer, still living under the government. He farmed good, and sold most of his reeds. His father tought him and inspired his way of art. He was hired as a mason, and built a different home, with a "lab". He came across some money, and paid the fine to become a "Freeman".

4th - Gerio Cerun, unknown. Not much is known about him, he was brother to Marcus Cerun II. He moved away, young, and no one knows where he went. It's said he discovered something magical, and gave the Cerun family power.

5th - Marcus Cerun II, Bounty Hunter. During the slow decline of the small factions in Aceon, he traveled the land in searching for someone to get. He was arguably cursed with "Bloodlust", a particularly incurable curse, that requires the victim to drink blood. He found few bounties, but many friends. During his time, Ermor, blossoming into it's new age, was quiet. Still, and he wasn't needed, so he was barely there. He had a son with a Mary, but she skipped town, and sailed with a man name Hugo. Their corpses were found burned and mauled, somewhere in a sewer miles away.

6th - Marcus Cerun III, Praefectus. While neglected by his father, he was taught to fend for himself. He was a kind soul, and often helped people in need. He joined the military young, and quickly advanced in rank. He was fearless, but worried he would disappoint. He met many of his father's friends. Many told him stories he didn't dare think up. It seemed to him his father lived a second life. He dislikes magic, but unfortunately to him, he has some power in him. It's saved his career before, and somewhat likes his power. He had intercourse with a maid named Sarah, but it was discovered she had not become pregnant.

7th - Theo Cerun. Sarah's son, and Marcus's son. He doesn't know of his family, where he came from, or any of his heritage. His mother lead him to believe her new husband Dern Dloth, a feudal knight, was his father. While he keeps the Cerun name, he believes it was his mother's maiden name. He, and his mother lives in a remote location, in a mansion. His father was one of the more, successful knights.

He escaped from his stepfather's Island, and saw many things that interested him on the way to Aceon.
He know serves as a "Scout", looking for interesting items, and exploring the World.

[Demonizer877]

Ha. I forgot I got everyone to call him Robert when his real name was Sandred. Infact most of Sandreds relationships with people were built on lies so you would accept him and not be like "OMFG NOVARIUM, BURN HIM AT THE STAKE". But his son is gonna be like marmite, you'll either love him or you hate him.

[RanmaChan]

In my opinion he deserves a funeral so I am going to give it to him even if no-one else turns up. I'm thinking burial at sea or scattering his ashes over Ermor so he'll always be watching you guys even in the afterlife :3

Just made a graveyard with a bunch of blank grave stones for all the people who killed their characters off, lol.

[Alltrusion]

Rest in peace sandred... and forever spy on the peoples of Aceon *goes to real estate agent and bids denarii on his farm*

[Alltrusion]

6th - Marcus Cerun III, Praefectus. While neglected by his father, he was taught to fend for himself. He was a kind soul, and often helped people in need. He joined the military young, and quickly advanced in rank. He was fearless, but worried he would disappoint. He met many of his father's friends. Many told him stories he didn't dare think up. It seemed to him his father lived a second life. He dislikes magic, but unfortunately to him, he has some power in him. It's saved his career before, and somewhat likes his power. He had intercourse with a maid named Sarah, but it was discovered she had not become pregnant.

He was also a HUGE dousche bag  ::)

[Feerman]

6th - Marcus Cerun III, Praefectus. While neglected by his father, he was taught to fend for himself. He was a kind soul, and often helped people in need. He joined the military young, and quickly advanced in rank. He was fearless, but worried he would disappoint. He met many of his father's friends. Many told him stories he didn't dare think up. It seemed to him his father lived a second life. He dislikes magic, but unfortunately to him, he has some power in him. It's saved his career before, and somewhat likes his power. He had intercourse with a maid named Sarah, but it was discovered she had not become pregnant.

He was also a HUGE dousche bag  ::)

lolwut.

[ChiefOh]

Alright folks, construction of the event is complete.
The event will be held Oct 9th at 5 pm EST
If the event does not have enough attendance due to this hastily set date
I will hold the event at the same time the following day.

Long ago, during the rise of Ermor, a young blacksmith and builder lived within her walls. His name was Heliziam.
Heliziam, lived a simple life building and smithing only to survive. However, he was was like any other at both the crafts. His buildings, seemed to glow with beauty, and his armor never seemed to crack or wear. It was not long until the Emperor took notice of his work. He commissioned him to make a tomb like no other and a brilliant set of armor. Heliziam did as the Emperor commanded him, He created a monument and tomb filled with traps and puzzles, to ensure the emperor would rest enternally undisturbed. The armor he slaved to create, shined a brilliant gold and weighed next to nothing. The Emperor was pleased, although he grew paranoid of Heliziam's knowledge, and in an effort to ensure no other would ever have armor or a tomb to match, he had Heliziam executed. Mere days after the emperor had him executed, dawned in his golden armor, the Emperor suddenly died. He was entombed still wearing his armor. As the ages passed, the memory of the once great Emperor, and Heliziam faded into time.....

Until now.


And Fuck you Feer. This quest involves, puzzles, traps and a treasure.