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These are the player blurbs. Send in anything you would like to have in this section. Also web links to graphics and sites are OK. See Info Page for more information on how to do this.

Game 11 Blurbs.
Clicking on the player numbers below will take you to their blurb.
Click the email address beside the wizard name to contact that player.

  • PLAYER 1 - Rusty Raven

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Rusty Raven at

  • PLAYER 2 - Kayla the Great

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Kayla the Great at

  • PLAYER 3 - Shades Realm

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Shades Realm at

  • PLAYER 4 - Merlin

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Merlin at

  • PLAYER 5 - Graynard

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Graynard at

  • PLAYER 6 - Strallen

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Strallen at

  • PLAYER 7 - Tamori


    Contact Tamori at

  • PLAYER 8 - Gorlock

    Greetings from Kingdom of Kalintal. 
    Our Crusade against the remnants of the Dreadlord's forces proceeds apace with
    the slaughter of several of his soldiers with out loss by our brave dwarven
    soldiers. The expedition continues this turn heading deeper into the heart of
    brigands domain. we hope to soon find their training ground and destroy it so
    that we can be assured no further incursions will take place.  
    Back in our capital, a blacksmith has taken up residence claiming that our
    volcanic heat will allow him to make the best weapon the world has ever seen.
    Even if he can only produce basic weapons they shall be better than the spears
    and pitchforks our troops are fighting with now.
    We have also finished the path around our fair mountain so those who wish to
    tour its rugged beauty may do so with out risk to life and limb. 
    Great news for our Minotaur subjects, The Paladin Boric Stoneheart has decides
    to grace us with his presence and has taken a Holy Vow to clear the Cyclops that
    is befouling their graveyard. He then vows to lead our armies on a grand crusade
    vs. the wizard Fon who has insulted not only the High King but the whole Kingdom
    of Kalintal. 
    Darlan Silvertounge
    Spokesman for 
    High King of Kalintal

    Contact Gorlock at

  • PLAYER 9 - Upa

    I am Upa, Dark Queen of the Amazons.  We struggled long and hard against
    the Dreadlord to defend our homes in the Basfma Basin.  Neither He, nor
    his forces ever reached our capital, Deep Vinla.  With his passing we have
    begun to expand our territory back to its traditional size and power.
    Construction has begun again and the people are happy.  My jungle palace
    is open to any and all who would like to visit and open diplomatic
    negotiations in this new era.

    Contact Upa at

  • PLAYER 10 - Gerog the Mighty

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Gerog the Mighty at

  • PLAYER 11 - Nameless Wizard

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Nameless Wizard at

  • PLAYER 12 - Urza

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Urza at

  • PLAYER 13 - Maverick

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Maverick at

  • PLAYER 14 - Goratrix

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Goratrix at

  • PLAYER 15 - Shadow

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Shadow at

  • PLAYER 16 - Valarus Kalakar

    Valarus woke early on this Winter morning. Shadow Stretch was always a nice
    cool temperature, but this morning was unusually cold. He moved to the edge
    of his room and removed a heavy suit of leather from a chest on the wall.
    Armor wasn't something that Valarus normally wore, but the days are getting
    harder and tensions are rising.  He carefully tightened every strap and
    lace. Looking in the silver mirror he realized how much like his father he
    looked in this suit of armor, his father was a great warrior during the time
    of the Dreadlord. 
    After strapping a sword to his side and draping a cloak over his shoulders,
    he thought to himself that he never dreamed of the day that this would be
    necessary. I am wizard, he thought.
    Sounds of a crowd started to form outside his balcony.
    He walked out of his door and down the stairs into a large hallway, slowly
    moving toward a set of large double doors with guards at either side. The
    guards salute, and without hesitation open the door. He returned the salute
    and walked through the door into a large, ornatly decorated room. Statues of
    warriors, decorated with gems lined the sides of the room. He cast a
    descreet glance to the right at a statue of his father, this was the hall of
    hero's and a slight smile crossed his face as he thought how he would be
    here one day.
    Two more guards were at the door at the end of the room, again they salute
    and again the doors opened.
    "AH! Valarus! I thought you were going to be late..Haha"
    * "King Ablert, you know better than that "
    Valarus started to bow...
    "And YOU Valarus, know better than that! hahaha"
    * "King Ablert, it is good to see you again..Hope things are going well for
    you during this cool Winter.."
    King Ablert lifts from his chair, moves to Valarus and smacks him on the back..
    "You won't come to your king? Your king with then come to you! No bowing
    here, shake my hand boy!"
    Valarus shakes the Kings hand..
    * "King Ablert, you know I respect you, and my father was a good friend to
    you..But we are here to do what must be done..Times are changing and the
    fight to survive has begun.."
    The king waves his hand in the air.
    "I know.......I know...Then let's get this over
    with...We must begin"
    The king asks two of his guards to follow him, and Valarus follows right beside.
    They walk back up the stairs to a large room with doors to the outside onto
    a balcony.
    The crowd noise has grown.
    The guards open the door and Valarus and King Ablert...
    The crowd roars...(They love their king)
    "People of Ablerthall!" 
    Valarus stood tall and proud over the crowd and looked over the city, he
    knew now what must be done to keep the city of Ablerthall safe, now he must
    let the others know..
    Force and Magic are going to work well for us, but Diplomacy is going to
    work well for all...
    He griped the railing tight leaned over the balcony, breathed in deeply and
    begin his speech..

    Contact Valarus Kalakar at

  • PLAYER 17 - Chaklanna

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Chaklanna at

  • PLAYER 18 - Nazer The Great

    These words were spoken by Nazer The Great, Ruler of Dark Elves of Thrushbile,
    on the day he claimed the throne from Alyana Priestess of Gyun:
    I am the ruler of Thrushbile.
    All of my people will bow me, only me and no harm will come to them.
    We will work together to expand and bring glory to our kind. The days of
    uncertainty are over and the people of Thrushbile now know the purpose for
    their lives.
    Even now our armies are growing in strength and neighbouring territories are
    joining us. Those who will not threaten us we will consider as allies.
    People of Thrushbile, do not let anything or anyone stop us.

    Contact Nazer The Great at

  • PLAYER 19 - Tetragramaton

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Tetragramaton at

  • PLAYER 20 - N'CogN'To


    Cheerio to all you ...hicks... drunken Wizards,

    me ...hicks... mighty N'Cog'N'to of the drunken ...hicks... Under-Dwarves!

    Me not take time ...hicks... to talk often ...hicks... better use time to ...hicks... booze and crush ...hicks... heads together.

    Me ...hicks... inviting you to our daily ...hicks... brekfast drinking bout.

    May our ...hicks... hobnail liver never ...hicks... kill us.

    Cheerio, N'Cog'N'to...

    Famous Under Dwarf Toast: "If you kick me I'll kick you too!"


    Contact N'CogN'To at

  • PLAYER 21 - Bellaraphon

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Bellaraphon at

  • PLAYER 22 - Azeal

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Azeal at

  • PLAYER 23 - Nameless Wizard

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Nameless Wizard at

  • PLAYER 24 - Gatsu

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Gatsu at

  • PLAYER 25 - Naenor

    	Naenor, leader of the hill dwarves of Mistlevein, came into
    power only a few years ago at the death of his father.  As a child he
    was well liked by his father's  subjects, and was a well respected smith
    (though his mining skill was not well developed.)  What drew the people
    to him most often, however, was his speeches about the way life would be
    when he was king.
    	He promised to bring the dwarves back to their former glory,
    which all only knew through story and song.  He sworn that once again
    the hammers of the dwarves would ring through the mountains, move out to
    the edges of their ancient home (and beyond), and the mithril mines
    would be renewed.  The true silver would run like water.
    	And he was true to his word.  Immediately upon taking the
    sceptre of kingship he began training a army, a small group who could
    begin the rise of the Mistlevein empire.
    	Click here to
    connect to Naenor's WOW home page, or here> to send a messenger to the halls of

    Contact Naenor at

  • PLAYER 26 - White Kestrel

    At long last, we crack the shell of Mitsalonhall and emerge into
    the underrealm of Shadow Claw.  Mithril!  Ahhh, 'tis glorious;
    iron, gems, and shimmering mithril all around us.  And... what's this?
    Fresh air?  Could the legendary surface world lie so near?  Come lads,
    we've many peasants to subdue and miles to go before we sleep.
    The Underdwarves of Mitsalonhall are on the march.

    Contact White Kestrel at

  • PLAYER 27 - Vanyel Ashkevron

            "To understand me, you must understand our peculiar race of Elves.
    And to understand the elves of River's Grove, you must know a but of recent
    history. But I have heard that such knowledge has been lost and distorted
    in the world, and so I will repeat it for you now."
    	"Long ago, even by the reckoning of the elves, a small settlement was
    built, at the mouth of a river on the shore of the Sea. Very few of us were
    in the world then. and fewer still ever let themselves be seen by mortal
    eyes. And so the community existed, as wars and empires fell around them,
    ignored and ignoring the world. This time we call the Dreaming, for the
    world seemed to us an unreal place, and we took more attention to our songs
    and our music than to what other races call reality. But in time that
    ended, and we awoke. Grown in number, the other races began to notice our
    presence. More importantly, other elves made themselves known to us,
    wanderers who lived their entire lives in the world of the mortals. And we
    began to take notice of reality, and lay aside our dreams to explore and
    manipulate it instead. We fought our first war, though we did not yet
    recognize it as such, in retribution for the death of our greatest minstrel
    while he dreamed. When it ended, mortals no longer ended the grove
    willingly. Yet we could not return to the dreaming. The war had remade us,
    opened our eyes to the wonders of reality and left us no longer content
    with the products of our minds. We wished to make, feel and learn of the
    material. We became curious. And we ourselves became more and more like to
    the mortals we had driven away. Curiosity drove some to travel, and some to
    create. Our bards turned into wanderers, who returned to tell tales of
    lands far away, or to display some new wonder of reality. Or they turned
    their talents to the crafting of wood instead of song, and fashioned bows
    and boats, strong, light and beautiful. As more and more of us traveled, we
    began to bring these things we had made with us, to trade for that which
    was beautiful and useful. Soon our boats were well known sights throughout
    the world, and we learned of things we had never dreamed. It was our Golden
    Age. Our city was wondrous in that time, and we learned all we wished. No
    craft was beyond our ability to master, no masterpiece beyond our talent.
    We saw the greatest treasures of other civilizations, and we surpassed
    	But in our pursuit of the beautiful, we forgot the ugly. Never had
    slaughter held any appeal to us. SO we were ill prepared for the coming of
    the Dreadlord. Of all the arts, that or War alone had been neglected. We
    paid dearly indeed for that. Defenseless, our people were slaughtered.
    Finally, on the road before our city, we gathered our first army in over a
    thousand years. And the dreadlord offered to parlay. Our treasures were
    delivered to him, and we agreed never to leave the grove for a hundred
    years. Every hundred years since, the emissary of the dreadlord arrived,
    and every hundred years we have renewed our pledge, and he in return has
    not slaughtered us. For 400 years, it was the Withdrawal. 
    	But 100 years ago, the Dreadlord made a mistake. Half only of our
    treasures had been given in the first agreement. Now he demanded more. My
    predecessor, weak and already half senile, agreed. Another half of our
    possessions were lost. But that loss also revived those elves not blinded
    by fear of the Dreadlord. He would ask again, and we would not give in. For
    400 years, we had been denied the world. We would be denied it no longer.
    And when I rose to Gladelord, I knew what must be done."
    	"In the presence of the last emissary of the Dreadlord who will ever enter
    the Grove, I have declared the Advancing. The breadth of the world is ours
    by right to experience and to create from. None shall deny us. We have
    cowered in fear. But we know ourselves to be powerful, and we will wield
    the Dreaming and the Material to bring down all who would confine us."

    Contact Vanyel Ashkevron at

  • PLAYER 28 - Morgenes

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Morgenes at

  • PLAYER 29 - Jarelon Tarsyk

       Quaan was sitting at his work bench, staring at the map of the entire area,
    worring as to what will happen this week. He has made some terrible mistakes
    in the past few weeks, and now must pay for those mistakes. He has been asked
    for a lot of Mithirl in return for the damages that have been suffered, and
    this seems resonable, but what is asked of him, he does not have. He fear that
    due to this, his troops blood will be spilled. He could withdraw them, but
    that would make him look like a coward. Half his friends are telling him to
    retreat, the other half aere telling him to stay and work out a diffrent peace
    treaty. Oh lord, what do I do? There comes a knoch on the door, breaking the
    " Yes what is it"
    "Lord Satansheart, there is a woman here to see you."
    "Who is it, I have told you so many times that I am to bust to recive
    "My lord, she says that she is your wife"
       Quaan turns sharply to look at his servant square in the eyes, and grabs
    him by the collar, and says " If this is some one's idea of a joke, I will
    kill you and who ever is responsible"
    "Lord she looks like the woman you have described in the past, I am sorry, but
    I think it is your wife."
    " Very well, Show her in"
    The door opens, and in walks the one true love of Quaan, Lysa. She walks in
    and stops 5 feet in front of Quaan and bows deeply to him. " My lord, I have
    done as you have asked of me, I have stayed away and raised your son"
    "Thorin? Is Thorin here now?
    "Yes my Lord, I have brought Thorin with me."
    "Where is he, please play no games with me, I must see him."
    "Not yet my lord, There are matters of grave importance that I must talk to
    you about him fuirst."
    "Very well, but please hurry, please my love come sit and relaxe with me."
    "My love? You have not called me that in years"
    "I have matured a lot since the last time I have seen you"
    Lysa began tell Quaan the entire story of his childs birth, and how the sands
    of time seem to be moving so slowly for the child, he is already 14 years old,
    but looks no older than 9.
    "Lord there is a urgent matter that I have come to discuss with you. The
    Dervish empire of New Flashmer have approched me, and have asked me to talk to
    you about you working with them. They seem like a good race of people, and
    they are very strong."
    "Lysa, as you know I can not leave these things that I have started, and can
    not drop everything for them, I wish I could help them, but I can not. But let
    me ask you a question about Thorin, does he have the gift as I do?
    " Yes my Lord he does, I think he will be just as strong as you are, very
    soon. But about the New Flashmer Dervish, you are there last hope, already the
    world there is being consumed with evil mages, and the people seek your wisdom
    and guidance!"
    "Lysa, please. I can not, however, As this is the greatest thing I can offer
    my son, I shall send him to lead the New Flashmer Dervishes, and I shal be
    Thorin's advisor."
    And upon Quaan Satansheart's word, an echo across the lands could be heard:

    Contact Jarelon Tarsyk at

  • PLAYER 30 - Dirk Litefinger

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Dirk Litefinger at

  • PLAYER 31 - Lazarus

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Lazarus at

  • PLAYER 32 - Ysh

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Ysh at

  • PLAYER 33 - Gandalf


    Gandalf, leader of the GnomesBehold fellow Wizards

    I am Gandalf, leader of the settlement of Gnomes in Jungolimbols. I was called to this place to help the Gnomes recover after the terrible reign of the DreadLord. They had lost their great Wizard in the last battle with the dark minions and I believe it must have been the Wizard who used his last ounces of magic he had left to call upon me to replace him. Once I came to Jungolimbols they all accepted me as their new master Wizard, and   I knew that my mission was to lead these Gnomes to grow and prosper. The Gnomes needed my help, and they got it. If the dark minions should return, we will be ready for them this time! We'll spread the word of a new era, a peaceful and prosperous era!

    The Gnomic RaceThe Gnomes are a proud and noble people. Don't let their size fool you, they can be tough if that is what it takes. We will support our allies, and an enemy of our allies, is an enemy to us. Do not think that we will sit idly by while one of our allies is attacked, we will rush our forces to the frontline to assist in their fight. We're a fierce enemy, and a loyal ally. We do not ally with everyone however, you'll have to gain our respect and trust before we can take the step and become allies.

    Our forces have been moving out into the neighboring regions to seek out who is to be our allies, who'll be our enemies and to establish borders. So far we've found two wizards who have neglected their people. We can not, and will not let this continue. Even as you read this, our forces are moving in to liberate the people, to help them evolve into something bigger and better!

    If you suspect that your troops might encounter ours we would encourage you to take contact with us as soon as possible to avoid hostile situations. And if an accident should happen it will be important that you take contact with our Embassy to clear up in the situation.

    Our embasy is allways open, and will take messages from all fellow wizards who wish to talk to us. We're very interested in exchanging information, be it about map, building or perhaps spell information.  To send a message to our embasy, use this cryptic swirling thingy included after this message.

    Mystic Swirling E-mail Thingy


    Contact Gandalf at

  • PLAYER 34 - Nokalian

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Nokalian at

  • PLAYER 35 - Blue the Wiz


    Welcome to the Swamp


    Green, Scummy and Stinking


    None, Just Stinking Black Ooze


    Teeming, Parasitic, Hungry and Ugly


    Hill Dwarves, Lost, Abandoned and Bereft

    Yes, Hill Dwarves, one loud mouthed ancestor and a thousand years of dwarven history tossed on the midden heap.

    Yes, he had to get up the nose of a witch, which witch, the one who slagged our hills into these swamps.

    Yes, she had his truename, but no witch will get my truename.

    Who Am I? I'm Wiz the Blue. And I will not rest until this swamp is returned to the sweet hills of memory.

    Contact Blue the Wiz at

  • PLAYER 36 - yeilan


    Greetings Wizards of Shadowmoth:

    I am Lord Yeilan, high Wizard of the council of nine and ruler of the mighty tribes of the underdwarves. Mine is a people of peace, of trade and knowledge, we like to be left alone in our caves , but remember that ,altough our appearence is one of weakness, we are fierce warriors and strong warlocks, the stone is not only our ally but also our servant and any attack will be repelled by the forces of us and our allies.

    But if you come in peace we will offer you the hospitality of the underworld, its richs wells, its delightful mushrooms, and its beutiful weapons, 'peace' is our salutation but if anybody attacks us our answer will always be: WAR!!! .


    Contact yeilan at

  • PLAYER 37 - Metz TallFellow


    The Halflings of the Gothamer Shire have always been quiet, hardworking, and dedicated folks, dedicated mainly to their tobacco plantations, their hops production, and their many beehives from which the widely reknowned dark and bittersweet honey flowed which was so desperately needed for the production of their famed mead.

    However, for some time now, their dedication to enjoyment had been such that the population of these lands had swollen almost beyond the ability of the land to hold them. It seemed that every time you looked around there was another crop of small, pudgy halflings staggering around on their unsteady legs, poking their fingers into the busy hives and their noses into the foaming barrels of new brewed ale.
    Not that there was anything wrong with that, but when it started to look as though tobacco and ale usage might start to need an element of rationing to enable it to go around everyone, a national emergency was immediately called.

    The City Council (such as it was - a weak and ineffectual lot whose sole reason for existance was the consumption of the best of the shire's honeycakes and tobacco, washed down with copious quantities of mead and ale) was called into session and their deliberations lasted long into the next week.
    Several times emergency supplies of honeycakes and well-aged mead were called for to better facilitate their decision making, several times additional barrels of ale were rolled to the doors of the Great Council Chamber where the Masters of the Keg (an honorary Council position which brought with it the responsibility of testing the contents of each keg as it was broached to ensure that consistancy of quality was maintained) took delivery and solumnly rolled the barrels into the dark recesses of the Council Burrow, where, it was whispered there were even hidden barrels remaining from the Great Belly Stretcher year, of which the quality had long since passed into legend, and used as a yardstick against which all new harvests were measured.

    Long the deliberations raged, alternate views and solutions bandied back and forwards across the council floor as all gave their views on the solution to the problem. Slowly, as the week progressed, and the ale flowed more and more freely to soothe throats made raw by more talking than they were used to. Slowly, the younger, and less resilient of the Council Members fell by the wayside, or, more rightly, slid out of sight under the Council table where their snoring bodies were taken in paw by the Holy Rollers (an honoured hereditary position) and reverently rolled across the floor and out of the chamber to the recovery rooms out the back.
    Finally, the only Councillor still standing (and only because he had taken the precaution of preparing for such sessions by excessive drinking and eating in the past so that he was slightly better practised at it than the others) put his motion to the vote of the remaining council (himself) and, surprisingly, it was passed unanimously.

    And so was the decision made which has now passed into history, that the Halflings of Gothamer Shire went to WAR.
    Not for glory, not for power or wealth, but for the desperately needed lands on which their hives, hops and tobacco could be grown and developed to maintain their traditional lifestyle.

    A war of colonisation, a war of peaceful expansion, in short, a farmers war.

    We wish you all no harm, we wish only to expand into new farming lands, and are therefore no threat to anyone.
    All who wish to communicate with the Shire's High Council, please do so by addressing it to Shire High Councillor Metz TallFellow

    Contact Metz TallFellow at

  • PLAYER 38 - Sirikul

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Sirikul at

  • PLAYER 39 - Yorl

    Matsu Hiroru - I AM COMING FOR YOU!!!!

    Contact Yorl at

  • PLAYER 40 - Vex Megablaster

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Vex Megablaster at

  • PLAYER 41 - Tim the Enchanter

    I am an enchanterr  and my name is........Tim. Underrr my command, arrrrays
    of the best halflings warriorrs and diplomats will be sent arrround from
    Mehlay Rrrrise.
    To warr we prreferr peace and trrrade. But if warrr needs to be waged, let
    all know that we field the mighiest shrruberry warriorrs everrr saw and the
    mighty TKoN (Tiny Knights of NI!) keeperrrs of the secrrets worrds (known
    to few). Now if you don't wipe that smirrrrk out of yourrr face, I'll bite
    yourr legs off!!!.
    We will welcome any envoys as long as their mannerrs arre not haughty norrr
    thrrreatening, enterrrtaining them in properrr Halfling fashion, we don't
    have that many occasion to offerrrr a Beeerrr drrrinking contest.

    Contact Tim the Enchanter at

  • PLAYER 42 - Favok

    I am Favok

    Warrior and Mage
    Leader of the Azirian Minotaurs

    Heed my words:

    Destiny calls us, my people. The very stones of this most ancient of cities cry out to us. We are the largest and the strongest and the most fierce. Yet this has availed us nought in the past, because might is not enough.

    The small, soft ones cannot pit themselves against us in battle, yet they have learned and nurtured other powers. Now we, too, must learn to fight not just with strong arms, but with a keen mind. We must recognize that others out there may have knowledge or resources which we might use, and that pacts and covenants could serve us better than extra conflicts which divert our energies.

    Then, armed mightily in ways both arcane and mundane, we shall answer destiny's call.

    Contact Favok at

  • PLAYER 43 - Strigoi

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Strigoi at

  • PLAYER 44 - Fon

    People say Malacoribar dumb just cause he so big.
    Malacoribar not dumb just simple.
    You friend = me like, You not friend = me exterminate. SIMPLE!
    44 Malacoribar the Minotaur.

    Contact Fon at

  • PLAYER 45 - General Halifax

    BorderGR.GIF - 1.73 K
    Wyrm Wyrm
    Godath Is Born Anew

    Godath dreams, not of the failing crops do to poor rainfall, not of playing croquet on the manicured grounds of an estate, not of some blond lass carrying fresh bread to be sold at the market not of him being...

    Godath dreams of realities. He sees images of what had happened during, before, and after the Dreadlord. He tasted the blood of innocents, smells the sickly sweet scent of charred orc, he felt the dark kiss of his father’s lips. He heard...

    Yet Godath in this dream state can not grasp which reality is his. He dreams for ages, sifting, searching for the one that feels to be a the most a part of him. Finally one dream seems more familiar than the others. Godath clings to this dream. Pulls at it, tries to tame it and finally rides it...

    Night falls on the people of the Great Western Desert. The people of Ki and Dagbaar are only days from being subjugated or blown away and scattered to the winds. The DreadLord has awakened and he chose the gem rich isolation of the desert to begin his conquest. It is here that Godath dreams that he is born.

    His father, so to speak, is the Archfiend himself and his mother is a young Djinni. His mother dies during his conception due to the dark magics that were infused into her or perhaps simply from the horror of what had been done to her.

    The Dream bucks. Godath try to hold on, months pass. The searing heat of the desert and his father’s scrutiny of his creation passes. A bitter cold winter encroaches. Godath is charged with finding the ancient portal to below and rooting out the last hiding place of the Sandpeople of the Great Western Desert, Sandhaven. Many souls are sacrificed to the Dreadlord’s cause under the banner of Godath...

    The dreams rears, twists, ROARS, many years pass. A searing light threatens to destroy all that is dark...

    A Djinn, seemingly made out of shadow, appears in the halls of all the rulers of Icelarna and beyond…

    It gives forth a proclomation from its ruler:

    My many magics have lead me to believe that thou art the one of the rulers of Shadowmoth. Be this the case we have much to discuss for the betterment of our two kingdoms…I have dreamt many lives and have knowledge beyond that of the form I take on now. Where my father has failed I shall succeed. In order to succeed I need allies. This be where he was weak; he trusted no one. Yet for there to be any ruler of Shadowmoth strong bonds of trust must be grown. No matter how wise, intelligent or lucky a ruler may be Shadowmoth is too big a realm for one to conquer all.

    So my request be this. Art thou interested in an alliance? An alliance of epic proportions in which the unity of our two empires will vanquish all that oppose? Or will it be to war? If war be it, you must be prepared to cripple thine kingdom. For even if you were able to defeat my growing kingdom, I will mortally wound thine own.

    Please do not be shocked by the bluntness of my words. It be one of mine weaknesses. I have neither a tongue for flowery speech nor the patience for dallying around the point of the matter. Please respond to this proposal before too many moons have past and the blood of our troops is wastefully shed.

    Send a parchment to
    BorderGR.GIF - 1.73 K

    Contact General Halifax at

  • PLAYER 46 - Londonien

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Londonien at

  • PLAYER 47 - Treil Freth


    I'm young, beautiful, cute, & full of intelligence.
    No one really wants to hurt me...right?
    OK, give me a break. I'm new at this!
    Quit laughing, I'm serious!!!

    Wait a minute, I know how to get your respect!

    I am me. You shall become one with me. I am the force that draws apon the powers of greatness. I am Prime! The very forces of nature obey my every whim. We as mages, shall assemilate the weak to become one & I shall be that one! Humbly bow before your Queen!

    Beware! Fore I am as stuburn as I am kindhearted. You might think me a fool, but tell that to the lands I have conqured. Althuogh I am skill in the art of war, I am not without mercy.
    Trust is a comotity that I am lacking for I keep my freinds at arms lenght & enimies closer still. And though you may be a freind, the first smell of deceit will get you killed.

    As you well know those that declare war on me shall be sacraficed to the great god Aries. Two wizards have walked that road. The first was Shades Realm, He never got the chance to pray to his god. The second is General Halifax, He has tryed my temper and lost. He numbered himself one of my friends, but that was a ploy to leave me open. NO MORE! He shall feell the edge of my scimatar yet, & pay for the transgressions he has done me.

    For now I give thanks to the god of war.
    And the great game of life he has brought to me.


    Contact Treil Freth at

  • PLAYER 48 - Ikaras

    Long have I toiled under my masters' will.
    When but a small boy, I was captured and sold as a slave.  My childhood
    memories are of constant drudgery and pain.  It seems that I was given
    the foulest and most grueling tasks and sold when I failed to fulfill
    them to my owner's satisfaction.  Illness and injury were never
    considered and many times I cam neigh Death's realm err I grew of age.
    At the onset of puberty, I began to manifest a talent for working magik.
    My owner then was book dealer. This owner was better than most in that
    he at least taught me some skills, mainly how to read.  This was purely
    self interest mind you.  It increase my value when he decided to sell me
    and allowed me to be given a wider variety of work
    Among his volumes were several texts that reported themselves capable of
    teaching one the Art.  I was examining them for damage when several
    passages caught my eye.  I read them and felt that they were wrong.  I
    brought this to my owners attention so he could see if the books were
    forgeries.  Within a fortnight, I was again sold to my last master,
    Ashatath lived in a foreboding tower and emersed himself in the study of
    the Black Art.  When sold to him, he promised to help me learn to use my
    talent so I could one day become a wizard myself.  This was just the
    first of his many lies.
    I serve the role of Apprentice in name only.  I was still a slave.
    Worse, he would use me to help fuel his foul spells, draining my energy
    to keep his strong.  Ten years pass as I was locked away.  Never did he
    knowingly teach me anything but pain.
    I, however, watched.  I saw how he prepared his potions.  I remembered
    his wards and runes of protection.  Toward the end, he grew lazier and
    lazier, draining me for all his spells.  Each became a chance to learn
    more of how magic worked.
    Finally, I saw my chance.  After a particularly long casting, we were
    both extremely tired.  I was sent to fetch him some wine to help speed
    his recovery.  A light lacing of one of his potions and Ashatath was
    some sound asleep.
    I quickly made my way to his library and chose some of the tomes on the
    general theories of Magik.  A small book of spells and cantrips
    completed my loot and I fled into the night.  I have now found a home
    among some common people and we made a pact.  They would shelter me from
    Ashatath's searchers until I grew into my magiks.  In return, I would
    shelter and protect them as I grew stronger.
    That was many years ago.  I am now a wizard in my own right.  I stand
    for this people, my people and vow to protect them to last drop of my
    blood.  They shall not be made subject to tyrants nor Overlords.  In
    this world with new breaths of freedom, I say slavery shall not come
    back to haunt those I protect.  
    I am Ikaras and I stand for the side of Light.  I welcome all other
    champions of light to send their emissaries to me at   Together, we will
    keep the darkness at bay.

    Contact Ikaras at

  • PLAYER 49 - TYM

    	The past month has been an exciting one for those who live in the
    wretched swamps.  Many of the men and women have been working day on their
    assigned tasks.  Our gracious leader Prince Sapphire has proclaimed the
    control of beautiful forests and more expansive swamps.  This has brought
    great joy into the common household.  It allows them to believe in their
    leader and depend on his good judgment.  Which is visible in many of the
    tasks at hand.
    	The Blacksmith everyone has heard about will be completed.  This
    advancement to the military might of our elven nation comes at good time for
    one of our neighbors seems to have misunderstood our proclamation of peace.
    It was announced that our diplomatic messages have been ignored.  Even after
    proof of our locality the people under this foreign mage rose up and
    sleighed two of our elven militia.  This insult was obviously caused by our
    militias orders to advance and take control, however it has been known that
    we welcome open communications and even after our men were killed, this
    foreign nation has refused to consider our offer of diplomatic process.
    Prince Sapphire Admits that the offender has one more week to reply with
    diplomatic options before hostile actions must take place.
    	Relations in other directions have improved to great success.  Not
    only have other Elven nations spoken to us and created open relationships
    and an exchange of information, but three other races have commenced
    peaceful communications.  Other cursed neighbors forced to live in swamps as
    well as those much closer.  One of our new allies has proposed and alliance
    of the fullest sort.  One till the end of time.  
    	Adventures wanted:
    	This sign posted in the castle window has achieved great results.
    Lord Zasper has been hired by Prince Sapphire to become our nations first
    Hero in many years.  The two men have been secretly discussing details of
    the rate of pay.  It is rumored that the army has already discovered a great
    quest for our new hero to accomplish.  All of the Elven nation has great
    	Our nations first boat never got off the docks.  The ship builders
    seem to have misunderstood how a ship might be built.  Since then they have
    been corrected and the current schedule is to launch the "Royal Blue"
    sometime this month.
    	As a reminder Prince Sapphire feels that the best way for a nation
    to grow to greatness is by having great friends.  He is happy to have
    acquired some good friends, and says to all of them that even more improved
    relations is always on his agenda even if more pressing matters might be the
    higher priority of the moment.  Prince Sapphire would encourage other
    wizards and nations to consider being our friends as well.  It is always
    possible to improve our relationship.
    		TYM :)

    Contact TYM at

  • PLAYER 50 - Gromon

    No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

    Contact Gromon at

  • PLAYER 51 - Licharian

    Shimmering colors, random sounds,  
    discordant harmonies not quite familiar, 
    yet not completely unknown.

    The Plainswalker emerges from the mists, 
    tendrils of realities which someday may be, 
    but have yet to coalesce from the Chaos.

    The Valleys of the Immortals lie far beyond, 
    wisps of memory diffuse and scattered, 
    realities past become legend alone. 

    No sunrise, no moonset, yet soft eerie light, 
    mithril magic in a world of shadows tenuous, 
    pervasive yet somwhow unobtrusive.

    A place unlike any other, rich and mysterious, 
    teeming with life, replete with diversity, 
    a world below, this place is Shadow Claw.

    The Plainswalker adapts, to be what he will, 
    denizen of shadows, mithril, magic, and stone, 
    flesh once again for another life.

    Plainswalker no more, now mere mortal, 
    a fledgling wizard in an Underdark world, 
    a tinker gnome called Licharian. 

    Float your thoughts through the ether to Licharian

    Contact Licharian at

    * Off to WOW Game Status Page.