An ominous shadow overtakes your surroundings, growing larger with each passing moment. Before you are granted the opportunity to discover the cause of the sudden eclipse, a man-sized boulder careens violently into you, pulverizing your bones and crushing your organs, reducing you to a pink stain upon the ground.
Got the Minister of Development job in Targossas, and I'm so incredibly excited. The subdivision is one matter, but there are spots within Targossas proper that have yet to be fully developed, with some rooms explicitly being described as construction sites - the harbour in particular gets to me. I absolutely can't wait to see what can be done with these areas, and I'm so grateful that I have the opportunity to have a say in shaping the city!
Got the Minister of Development job in Targossas, and I'm so incredibly excited. The subdivision is one matter, but there are spots within Targossas proper that have yet to be fully developed, with some rooms explicitly being described as construction sites - the harbour in particular gets to me. I absolutely can't wait to see what can be done with these areas, and I'm so grateful that I have the opportunity to have a say in shaping the city!
Blown up by trigger-happy folks from other cities?
More a matter of it not having been done, I suppose. Targossas is not an old city in the grand scheme of things, but there's definitely spaces that are long overdue for being 'finished'.
Going to make any of you tanking the city a lot more personal, though.
Courtesy of a good idea by @Blujixapug, this thread is for when you want to talk about what happened to you in-game today or recently in a non-ranty manner, but don't consider it important enough to warrant starting a new thread.
Courtesy of a good idea by @Blujixapug, this thread is for when you want to talk about what happened to you in-game today or recently in a non-ranty manner, but don't consider it important enough to warrant starting a new thread.
Your tentative sip of this oddly blue drink brings a cool melding of flavours. Tartly refreshing lemonade conveys both the subtle sweetness of ripe blueberries and the smooth bite of vodka.
You take up the glass and slam back the drink, your mouth filling with the sugary tang of vanilla. The taste slowly blends into subtle tones of walnut before the rum burns with a fiery heat.
(Cyrene): You say, "..WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME." (Cyrene): Gloern says, "Ow." (Cyrene): You say, "That the straight-sided shotglass of rum HAS FLAVOR!?" (Cyrene): Gloern says, "Heh." (Cyrene): Prythe says, "Gloern's fault."
You take a sip from a frosted glass, an icy slush filling your mouth and spreading the fruity taste of fresh pears. Before long, a tang of alcohol begins to burn at the back of your chilled throat.
You tilt your head back and slam the brandy, letting it quickly slide down your thirsty gullet.
(Cyrene): Eril says, "Great, a drunk Bronislav."
You tilt your head back and slam the whiskey, letting it quickly slide down your thirsty gullet.
(Cyrene): Prythe says, "How do you tell the difference, Sir Eril?" (Cyrene): You impishly say, "I'm glad we're in agreement, Sir Eril."
You drain the last dregs of rum from the container.
(Cyrene): Eril says, "Well he...well you see...hmmmm."
You close your eyes and take in a deep breath of the hot steam billowing from the top of the mug before letting the thick brew of walnuts and vanilla pour down your throat, the hot beverage cutting off even the chill of the mountains. The lager flows down your gullet smoothly, warming your innards like liquid fire. The warmth rapidly spreads throughout your body, leaving fingers and toes tingling.
Moments later, you feel the flush of heated blood in your cheeks and a happy smile spreads across your lips.
(Cyrene): Eril says, "That's a good point Prythe." (Cyrene): Mazel impishly says, "You have a harder time understanding what he's saying. Which can be an improvement depending on the topic." (Cyrene): Gloern says, "Another good point by Mazel."
You swallow the last drop from a pottery goblet, enjoying it to the very last fizzy bubble.
Sobriety : completely sober
(Cyrene): You sceptically say, "..Why am I completely sober?" (Cyrene): Gawi says, "Becaus *hic* e youu don't know hoW to drink properly..."
You rip into an undead knight with your massive, deadly claws. You have slain an undead knight, retrieving the corpse. Your soul cries out in ecstasy as it reaches new heights of power. You have advanced to level 106. You have reached the illustrious level of Highborn of Dragonspire Mount.
It gets easier from here, right guys? Guys? Hello....?
Comments
Squish
Time to go back to those roots.
Also got to level 80 and no more weak from hunger, but I'm still open to sampling more food with Mhun inside...
Going to make any of you tanking the city a lot more personal, though.
@Tesha wants an ice cream shop.
Tecton-Today at 6:17 PM
He did slay the dragon of Polyargos, Yudhishthira.
@Karren for helping me out
Penwize has cowardly forfeited the challenge to mortal combat issued by Atalkez.
fk the barracks and scimitar of yen-sorte let's get us some cold desserts! the ministry of trade approves ~~
Tecton-Today at 6:17 PM
Tbth I don't really care about football
Tecton-Today at 6:17 PM
[ SnB PvP Guide | Link ]
Edit: I've also seen plenty of OOC here
Tecton-Today at 6:17 PM
Whoop!
Tecton-Today at 6:17 PM
You take up the glass and slam back the drink, your mouth filling with the sugary tang of vanilla.
The taste slowly blends into subtle tones of walnut before the rum burns with a fiery heat.
(Cyrene): You say, "..WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME."
(Cyrene): Gloern says, "Ow."
(Cyrene): You say, "That the straight-sided shotglass of rum HAS FLAVOR!?"
(Cyrene): Gloern says, "Heh."
(Cyrene): Prythe says, "Gloern's fault."
You take a sip from a frosted glass, an icy slush filling your mouth and spreading the fruity taste of fresh pears. Before long, a tang of alcohol begins to burn at the back of your chilled throat.
You tilt your head back and slam the brandy, letting it quickly slide down your thirsty gullet.
(Cyrene): Eril says, "Great, a drunk Bronislav."
You tilt your head back and slam the whiskey, letting it quickly slide down your thirsty gullet.
(Cyrene): Prythe says, "How do you tell the difference, Sir Eril?"
(Cyrene): You impishly say, "I'm glad we're in agreement, Sir Eril."
You drain the last dregs of rum from the container.
(Cyrene): Eril says, "Well he...well you see...hmmmm."
You close your eyes and take in a deep breath of the hot steam billowing from the top of the mug before letting the thick brew of walnuts and vanilla pour down your throat, the hot beverage cutting off even the chill of the mountains.
The lager flows down your gullet smoothly, warming your innards like liquid fire. The warmth rapidly spreads throughout your body, leaving fingers and toes tingling.
Moments later, you feel the flush of heated blood in your cheeks and a happy smile spreads across your lips.
(Cyrene): Eril says, "That's a good point Prythe."
(Cyrene): Mazel impishly says, "You have a harder time understanding what he's saying. Which can be an improvement depending on the topic."
(Cyrene): Gloern says, "Another good point by Mazel."
You swallow the last drop from a pottery goblet, enjoying it to the very last fizzy bubble.
Sobriety : completely sober
(Cyrene): You sceptically say, "..Why am I completely sober?"
(Cyrene): Gawi says, "Becaus *hic* e youu don't know hoW to drink properly..."
You are proficient in the following weapon classes:
Longsword
Broadsword
Shortsword
Scimitar
Bastard
Halberd
Rapier
Battleaxe
Handaxe
Club
Dagger
Dirk
Flail
Mace
Javelin
Lance
Morningstar
Spear
Warhammer
Trident
Whip
Bardiche
Quarterstaff
So I went to get my sword (thankfully city newbie clan has directions for all that stuff!), and Murad gave me "Phantom Sun".
You rip into an undead knight with your massive, deadly claws.
You have slain an undead knight, retrieving the corpse.
Your soul cries out in ecstasy as it reaches new heights of power. You have advanced to level 106.
You have reached the illustrious level of Highborn of Dragonspire Mount.
It gets easier from here, right guys? Guys? Hello....?
A twisted, roiling mass of shadows given corporeal form, the wicked edges of this ever-changing
dagger thrum with aciculate voracity, with thin wisps of razor-edged gloam undulating in erratic
stirrings along its slight length. Grasping tendrils of sable coil and spill forth from its hilt,
lashing about at their immediate surroundings and occasionally twining themselves about each other.
A terrible, ancient malice emanates from the blade's very existence in palpable waves, the
suffocating aura almost sickening in its pure intensity.
It weighs 0 ounce(s).
It bears the distinctive mark of Aralaya.
This weapon has been sharpened through the power of Terminus.
You may use the following commands with this weapon:
It will reset to you.
Tecton-Today at 6:17 PM
And you won't understand the cause of your grief...
...But you'll always follow the voices beneath.