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Event Teaser - from the
Turbine Site,
November 27, 2007
A cold wind blew from the north into Ayan Baqur, bringing the chill of
winter even to this desert town. Crouched by the side of the Smoking Axe
tavern in an effort to keep warm, Ulgrim the Unpleasant shivered and
mournfully tapped his empty mug against the ground.
“An empty mug is a shame forever,” he muttered to himself. Sensing movement
in the corner of his eye, he looked up. The moon was full and very bright
tonight, bathing the entire town in a surreal silver glow that seemed very
appropriate to the chill in the air. In this light, he saw a figure wrapped
in a voluminous cowled robe, coming out of the scribe’s building. The figure
paused, twisting uncertainly. Then he seemed to notice the old man staring
at him from the front of the tavern. He started walking toward the tavern
with a preternaturally smooth stride that reminded Ulgrim somehow of a
predator stalking prey.
As the hooded stranger approached, Ulgrim banged his mug on the ground to
get his attention. “Spare a mug of stout for a lonely old man? My family are
a bunch of prats and won’t support me in my dotage. Mercy, mercy, a pint for
an old man…”
No one in town had believed his beggar act for years, but this stranger
might yet… The stranger stepped in front of him and stopped, obviously
inspecting him. Even up close, Ulgrim could make out very little of the
person’s physical form, except that whoever he was, he was big. Almost as
tall as some of those mutant Viamontian Knights… From toe to fingertips, he
was wrapped in clothing or strips of cloth so that not a patch of skin
showed. The only visible detail was a pair of bright, icy pale eyes, glowing
almost obscenely in the shadowed blankness of the stranger’s hood.
“What… is your name and why do you require intoxicants?” the stranger asked
him, in a heavy accent that Ulgrim, well-traveled as he was, could not
place. His voice was heavy and resonant.
“I’m Ulgrim, the smartest man in these parts, and I require intoxicants to
make me intoxicated. Any other bright questions, or are you going to get me
a pint?”
“I wish to know how you were able to see through my seeming.”
“See through your what-ing? Start making sense, tall dark and raggedy.
Preferably as you buy me a pint.”
“I will purchase a… pint for you in exchange for information. Come, let us
enter the tavern-structure together and… pound a pint. So that we may engage
in an informal and familiar mode of communication, aided by inebriation.
Ulgrim, you old scalawag. Old buddy. Old pal of this-- of mine.”
Ulgrim blinked, paused for a moment, and decided that he must have just
hallucinated the stranger’s stilted attempt at tavern-talk. He stood and
followed the stranger for a few paces before stopping again in the doorway
of the tavern.
“Hey, if we’re going to have a drink together and talk to each other all
familiar-like, old buddy, you should tell me your name.”
The stranger stood by a table and fixed his oddly luminous gaze on Ulgrim.
“My name… is Rheaga. Of no tribe worth mentioning.”
Ulgrim nodded and proceeded toward the table, gesturing imperiously at
Berkholt for a round of stouts. “Good. I couldn’t sit down for a stout with
someone who was a stranger to me. I’m glad I know your name. You’re not a
leper, are you? I mean, I’m not afraid of getting it myself, on account of
my healthy diet, but I think it’s a little rude to bring a leper in here and
sit on Berkholt’s nice new furniture and drop body parts on the rug.”
Berkholt came to their table with two foaming mugs of stout and rolled his
eyes at Ulgrim’s comment about the furniture. “As long as his coin’s good I
don’t care what he’s got,” he growled at the two of them. “And all the times
you’ve stained this rug, it’s a wonder I haven’t skinned you to replace it.”
Rheaga drew one of his hands out from within a sleeve in his huge,
ill-fitting robe. When he opened his hand, it was full of gleaming pyreal
coins.
“Take what you require,” said Rheaga, as he held out the pile of coins to
Berkholt. The old barkeep eyed the pile, then took all of it with one swift
two-handed grab that would have impressed a cutpurse from Corcosa. He gave
Ulgrim a warning look as he stomped back to his station behind the bar.
Rheaga obviously didn’t care that he’d just paid five times the price, so
Ulgrim made a note to himself to try and wheedle some of the difference out
of Berkholt later and made no mention of it to his new drinking companion.
Sighing blissfully, he picked up his mug and drank half the stout in one
gulp. Letting out a long and loud burp, he set the mug back on the table and
eyed Rheaga. Somehow Rheaga had drunk half of his own pint, though Ulgrim
couldn’t recall seeing him lift the mug to his still-concealed face.
“All right, Rheaga, what would you like to know?”
“I would like to know how you were able to see through my seeming, when even
the most accomplished sorcerers among all of your benighted kind are unable
to do so. And then I would find out all that you know about the Virindi.”
In mid-gulp, Ulgrim coughed and splashed some stout on himself. He set the
mug down, angry. “First you’re going to have to explain to me what seeming
means. And then I want to know why you are so interested in the Virindi. And
you never answered my question about being a leper! Are you, or are you not?
If not, what’s with this weird get-up of yours?” Ulgrim sniffed at him. “And
another thing, you smell like a damned Virindi, you know that? Like
lightning and old dirty clothes.”
Rheaga didn’t move. Not even a blink from his glowing eyes, no sort of
indication that he was angry or upset. He responded in a calm tone. “Since I
have pledged to engage in no violence, lethal sorcery, or will-manipulation
during this excursion, I will answer your questions, though I recognize that
the tone with which you modulated your voice is inconsistent with a familiar
and informal mode of communication, and is the sort of tone that usually
precedes intoxicant-based tavern altercations.”
Ulgrim ignored all the fancy words. The guy said he’d answer the questions.
“All right, I’m waiting.”
“I ask why you can see through my seeming because none of your kind should
be able to perceive me with their eyes when I make use of a concatenation of
several relatively simple mental manipulation techniques. I am interested in
the Virindi because they have knowledge that I am interested in, and I asked
you about them because they are interested in you and consider you to be
more knowledgeable about them than most of your kind are. I am not currently
a carrier of the bacteria that cause leprosy. I wear this robe and wraps to
conceal my skin and other physical features that would cause alarm and undue
attention among humans, for the occasions when I must interact with your
kind. And I was aware that I smell like a Virindi, but I did not deem this
knowledge significant because smell is the most primitive of senses, though
I do recognize that the primitive human brain places an irrational
importance on that sense.”
Ulgrim sat dumbfounded, trying to absorb all that this curious stranger had
said. It was a rare day when someone in Ayan Baqur could be stranger than
him.
Rheaga leaned forward, almost eagerly. “Now I believe it is my turn to ask
you questions… old buddy.”
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Rollout Article - from the
Turbine Site,
November
28,
2007
Sabithra crept down the stairs as stealthily as she could.
She used the toe-first step that had been one of the most basic techniques
that Master taught her, and kept close to the stone wall to minimize the
chance of a creaky floorboard giving her away. All in all, she used a dozen
tricks and techniques to mask her presence from the man she was sneaking up
on.
The man was an Aluvian with close-cropped blonde hair, of middling height
and slim build, outfitted in worn and nondescript dark hunting leathers. He
was talking to Rundiscar, weaponsmith of Eastham, about a custom order for a
set of throwing daggers… The mask she wore interfered with her hearing
somewhat, so she could not make out the details of their conversation. She
was within a few strides now, almost at her mark…
The man abruptly turned to look at her. She was hidden quite well in the
flickering shadows by the base of the stairs, and any normal man probably
wouldn’t have noticed her. But Master, of course, could pick her out of a
crowd at a hundred paces and perforate the edge of her boot with a thrown
dagger. She hadn’t really thought she’d be able to sneak up on him, but it
had been a chance at practice.
Master’s pale green eyes narrowed and his thin lips curled in annoyance, the
most emotion he’d shown since they’d set out on this trip two days ago.
“What is that ridiculous mask that you’re wearing?” he asked.
Sabithra bowed and removed the mask, then held it up for Master to get a
better look at. “It’s an undead captain’s mask, Master,” she announced
cheerfully. “See the hat? Very stylish, I think. And I thought the mask
festival was over! Alexander made this for me from that head I took when we
were –“
Master held up a hand, and she silenced herself immediately. She knew her
mistake – she had been about to discuss operational details in the presence
of outsiders. Rundiscar was a good smith and Master trusted him as much as
he trusted any outsider, but rules were rules. Chastened, she stood by
silently while they concluded their transaction. Their business done, Master
and the smith clasped hands, and Master turned and left the smithy without
so much as a backward glance at Sabithra. She followed as he stalked quickly
and silently toward the shore.
When they were out of earshot of the town, and no one else was visible,
Master turned and confronted her. “I could hear you breathing through the
nose-holes from the top of the stairs. You still have not mastered your
breath, certainly not well enough to wear some kind of festival mask while
you sneak. Your eagerness to practice the craft is a virtue, but this
frivolity will be the death of you. It seems Adso was not overly critical,
as I once believed, of your cavalier attitude towards your training and our
rules.”
Sabithra lowered her gaze, shamed and scared. Adso had been her “elder
brother” once, responsible for training her during scouting missions in the
field, but he had since moved on to more exciting pursuits after earning
Master’s confidence. Adso’s exasperation and threats during those excursions
had been nothing compared to Master’s cool contempt. To hear Master confirm
Adso’s withering assessment of her suddenly reminded her of how precarious
her position truly was… Because she also knew that Master held the true
power over life and death, a power possessed by few in this strange realm.
“I apologize for that, Master, and I apologize for almost speaking of our
activities in front of an outsider.”
“When we return to the haven you will spend an hour in the golem pit, to
help reinforce the lessons you have learned today.”
Sabithra nodded. “Yes, Master.”
He stared at her after that, for what seemed like an eternity. She summoned
whatever reserves of willpower she had and forced herself to look into his
eyes. Finally, he seemed to find what he sought, and nodded slightly. “Let’s
continue on, then. Just two more places to go. First to Cragstone, to speak
with Oswent, and then to Linvak Tukal –“
Curiosity got the better of her. “Oswent? Forgive me, Master, but isn’t he,
an, um…” She wasn’t sure she should speak of this out loud, here and now.
“Out with it, girl.”
“Doesn’t he serve the Queen?”
Master laughed. “Oswent is employed by the Queen. And I am sure he serves
her ably and as loyally as he can. It would be bad for business otherwise.
But you’ll find, in the practice of the craft, that we sometimes have more
in common with the thieves, sneaks, and killers employed by the other
factions than we do with the people who buy our services. Just because I
tried to kill the Queen once, doesn’t mean Oswent won’t help an old friend
out with a little information, since I’m not trying to kill her now. In
fact, anything I do with the information I seek from Oswent will probably
end up benefiting the Queen. Favors get traded more often than knives in
this business, girl.”
Sabithra frowned, confused. “So how is it possible for kingdoms to be at war
when the assassins they hire have secret arrangements going on?”
“Don’t underestimate the value of professionalism, Sabithra,” Master said,
more amused now than anything. “There is a sort of honor among killers. Some
of us, anyway.”
“Does it ever get tough? Dividing loyalties this way?”
Master sighed. “From time to time. I could tell you a story about one crazy
old sorceress I took a few jobs from… You want to talk about divided
loyalties, she probably can’t even remember which side she started on. Stick
with me, Sabithra, and you’ll see all sorts of hidden currents of power
flowing behind the scenes. It’s the way of life, wherever you are.”
“So what do we need from Oswent? What do we need his information for?”
“To trace another current of power to its source. I’ll explain after we’ve
visited Oswent, when we’re on the way to Linvak Tukal.”
Release Notes - from the
Turbine Site,
November 17, 2007
Hello and welcome to the November Release Notes. This
month brings many changes to an already turbulent world. Humans and Lugians
alike have seen strange happenings to members of their kind, and even the
Carenzi on Marae Lassel have been reported to have some kind of strange
illness. Lets see what other changes will hit Dereth this month.
Miscellaneous Changes and Improvements
- We will be running a series of scheduled and
unscheduled Live Ops this month. Once we have the completed schedule, we
will post it on the launcher and on the official forums.
- On the weekend of December 15-16th we will be
increasing the drop rate of all Rares in the game. During this time all
player who are fighting Rare eligible creatures will have an increased
chance of getting a Rare drop.
- Orisis had more health then was intended. This
has been fixed and his health is now more in line with what was
expected.
- As a result of the extra downtime we have had
this month, most of the timed content that was in for October, will
remain in the game for the November event as well.
- A problem was found with the behavior of the
Olthoi Flyers in the infested area of Olthoi North. These Olthoi have
been removed from the area until the issue can be properly resolved.
- The text seen by players, who have been banned
from the game, now has the new link to our ban appeals team.
- A few more masks or headgear as it were, have
been added in this month. It seems some things just needed some last
minute fixes by the mask makers.
- Some additional items have been added to the
various special vendors throughout Dereth. These vendors are located at
the Colosseum, Infested Olthoi area, and the Graveyard, respectively.
Make sure you check them out to see what new items they have in stock.
- There appears to be some sort of plague affecting
the Carenzi of Marae Lassel.
- The Prodigal Shadow Dungeon is now a landblock
that does not unload. This means that all corpse decay timers will be
exact for that dungeon. This also means that players will no longer have
to “hold the landblock” to prevent it from resetting.
So there are just some of the things we have in store
for Asheron's Call in November. Please remember that along with everything
listed here, there are several new quests and exciting things going into the
game for the November event.
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