Sadly, that's a wive's tale. The Hebrew Language is read from right to left, thus, the 666 part is upside down. It's supposed to be 999, and a lot of Hell's Angels with tattoos are going to be pissed.
(It's a joke)
Everiine said: The reason population is low isn't because there are too many orgs. It's because so many facets of the game are outright broken and protected by those who benefit from it being that way. An overabundance of gimmicks (including game-breaking ones), artifacts that destroy any concept of balance, blatant pay-to-win features, and an obsession with convenience that makes few things actually worthwhile all contribute to the game's sad decline.
He is 33 years old, having been born on the 16th of Urlachmar, 433 years after the Coming of Estarra.
He is ranked 385th in Lusternia.
He is an extremely credible character.
He is a Landloper in the Fellowship of Explorers.
He is a graduate of the Ancestral Glade of the Moonharts (honours).
He is a member of the clan called 'The Serenade.'
He is a member of the clan called 'Aetherhart.'
He is considered to be approximately 60% of your might.
He is not currently active in any family.
See HONOURS FULL AYRE to view his 1 special honours.
You tell Sigira Ayre, Aspirant en-Uti, "I'll be your father. We will ride forth and spread the Taint among all of the lands, striking down the weak amid the gnashing of their teeth and crying of their widows and small children, who shall be enslaved to build our palaces."
Ayre tells you, "...Abit much for a hi and hello dontcha think?"
You tell Sigira Ayre, Aspirant en-Uti, "To the contrary, shock and awe are paramount when introducing yourself to your possible children. First impressions are important."
Ayre tells you, "Perhaps, but since I'm not a fan of the taint."
Ayre tells you, "Have to politely decline."
You tell Sigira Ayre, Aspirant en-Uti, "At least you have manners. Should you change your mind and wish to bathe in the tears of the innocent, do let me know."
Everiine said: The reason population is low isn't because there are too many orgs. It's because so many facets of the game are outright broken and protected by those who benefit from it being that way. An overabundance of gimmicks (including game-breaking ones), artifacts that destroy any concept of balance, blatant pay-to-win features, and an obsession with convenience that makes few things actually worthwhile all contribute to the game's sad decline.
(clan): Falmiis says, "Wait. I just came to the realisation that I am one of the dukes in your CK2 games that you marry just to make genius babies before you murder for my titles ."
(clan): Falmiis says, "Aramelise, verb, 1. adorn with many flowers."
In your mind you conjure a dream for the nearby hanging dream anchor:
As you welcome another scholar into your traveling group, you're bombarded by a cacophony of requests to move more swiftly to several different places. You spy a wandering bard in the distance, eye the group you're leading, and then sigh, resolving to only offer guidance to pilgrims from now on.
Weird thing to log in to, especially considering I was in an indoor stock room.
Lacking any way to fly and any support, you plummet to the earth below you! -
You plummet head first into the ground with a sickening crunch.
Blood drips from your ear as a massive headache sets in.
You are afflicted with damagedskull.
The massive trauma to your head has damaged your skull and brain considerably.
You are afflicted with concussion.
That happened (sorta) to me when I teleported to the ravenwood yesterday. Thankfully was wearing a crow cloak for once.
Avurekhos says, "Dylara's a PvP menace in my eyes, totes rekting face."
The eye of Dylara materialises in your hands and flings itself around your neck, tightening incomprehensibly until it is irremovable. Perfectly clean, this eyeball has been wrenched from the socket of Dylara. It has been animated by some unusual force, constantly looking around itself as if in shock or fear. It is bathed in a light covering of white flames that roll endlessly over its surface. A single chain of empyreal metal pierces either side of the eye, allowing it to be worn around the neck.
"Oh the year was 453CE, how I wish I was in Serenwilde now... aletter of marque come from the regent to the scummiest aethership I ever seen, gods damn them all...I was told we'd cruise the void for auronidion and dust, we'd fire no turrets, shed no tears.. now I'm a broken man on a Hallifax tier, the last of Saz's privateers."
Re: the flying when logging in and indoor rooms stuff, it's likely related to the server crash/rollback yesterday. Likely not anything that will happen consistently.
You point your staff at a radiant defender of life, and the burning ball at its tip flares and shoots a stream of liquid fire that blasts a radiant defender of life, scorching his flesh.
You shift the reserved damage of your last strike forward.
You suddenly burp a noxious fume at a radiant defender of life.
[ Tremulous ] Level 5 crit.
You focus on your wasted efforts, resolving to shift the damage forward.
The final blow proves too much for a radiant defender of life, who expires, pitifully.
You have slain a radiant defender of life. (+440)
So THAT'S how Kethuru keeps breaking out. Taint-breath shattering worlds :'D
Xypher dusts himself off quickly as he rises to his feet, twisting on his heels in the sand to face the friends and family gathered. He whispers softly, "Greetings one and all. Today, we speak of dreams. Of what we seek to know and be, what we wish for the truth and Will that lies within our shades."
"Dzaa," Pash chants softly, the sound bubbling in her chest like a frog's croak.
You have emoted: Breandryn sways softly from side to side, a bright smile on her face as she watches Xypher.
Xypher walks toward a few of the poppies, running a hand along them as he continues, "From our dreams, magnificent things may blossom. So what do you dream, dear Illuminated?"
Sugar Daddy Ixchilgal Mes'ard says, "Jeanie."
Dubiously, Mystic Pash asks Ixchilgal, "Your wife is not named Jeanie... So you dream of another woman?"
"Men are strange," Pash muses.
Xypher's eyes sparkle with amusement.
Softly, you say, "I dream of butterflies and fleshflowers and Steingrim holding the staff of Ascension and of..."
Words faltering, you say, "...nothing more I wish to share..."
You blush furiously.
Ixchilgal snickers softly to himself.
Sugar Daddy Ixchilgal Mes'ard whispers to Pash, "She dreams of Steingrim's staff."
Rhi, the Poet says, "Weird, so do I."
His voice rising a bit, Xypher Stormcrow whispers, "Do no others than the dirty old Devil and Archprelate dream?"
Danquik says, "I just want to watch the world burn."
"I dream of colors," Pash supplies, before eyeing Ixchilgal. "The Staff of Ascension. Breandryn should be clean of your pevertry, of anyone..."
Adding, Mystic Pash asks, "And sometimes I dream of Ixchilgal. Does that negate dear Breandryn's embarrassment?"
Sugar Daddy Ixchilgal Mes'ard says, "That doesn't count. A lot of people dream of us. Usually of strangling us."
"I have never strangled someone," Pash voices to Ixchilgal, sounding thoughtful. "Do you enjoy being strangled? Some do."
(Fire Hogwash): Danquik says, "This rite went from 0 - wtf did you just say, in seconds."
Xypher dusts himself off quickly as he rises to his feet, twisting on his heels in the sand to face the friends and family gathered. He whispers softly, "Greetings one and all. Today, we speak of dreams. Of what we seek to know and be, what we wish for the truth and Will that lies within our shades."
"Dzaa," Pash chants softly, the sound bubbling in her chest like a frog's croak.
You have emoted: Breandryn sways softly from side to side, a bright smile on her face as she watches Xypher.
Xypher walks toward a few of the poppies, running a hand along them as he continues, "From our dreams, magnificent things may blossom. So what do you dream, dear Illuminated?"
Sugar Daddy Ixchilgal Mes'ard says, "Jeanie."
Dubiously, Mystic Pash asks Ixchilgal, "Your wife is not named Jeanie... So you dream of another woman?"
"Men are strange," Pash muses.
Xypher's eyes sparkle with amusement.
Softly, you say, "I dream of butterflies and fleshflowers and Steingrim holding the staff of Ascension and of..."
Words faltering, you say, "...nothing more I wish to share..."
You blush furiously.
Ixchilgal snickers softly to himself.
Sugar Daddy Ixchilgal Mes'ard whispers to Pash, "She dreams of Steingrim's staff."
Rhi, the Poet says, "Weird, so do I."
His voice rising a bit, Xypher Stormcrow whispers, "Do no others than the dirty old Devil and Archprelate dream?"
Danquik says, "I just want to watch the world burn."
"I dream of colors," Pash supplies, before eyeing Ixchilgal. "The Staff of Ascension. Breandryn should be clean of your pevertry, of anyone..."
Adding, Mystic Pash asks, "And sometimes I dream of Ixchilgal. Does that negate dear Breandryn's embarrassment?"
Sugar Daddy Ixchilgal Mes'ard says, "That doesn't count. A lot of people dream of us. Usually of strangling us."
"I have never strangled someone," Pash voices to Ixchilgal, sounding thoughtful. "Do you enjoy being strangled? Some do."
(Fire Hogwash): Danquik says, "This rite went from 0 - wtf did you just say, in seconds."
The deep, rumbling voice of Weiwae says from within your heart, "I am so happy to hear of your progress, and I thank you for bringing my influence over more shards of My Brother Tae."
totally need to have baby swan to run around with me. So cuuute
Are those...beasts? Where can I get one?
There's a quest in clarramora cloud gardens ( see recent event post )! Yes, they are beasts. Cuuute ones
Avatar / Picture done by the lovely Gurashi.
3
EveriineWise Old Swordsbird / BrontaurIndianapolis, IN, USA
Eurytus, Master of the Hunt canters in from the south, stopping to look around thoughtfully.
Gruffly, Eurytus, Master of the Hunt says, "I thought I heard voices."
Tilting his head, you ask Eurytus, Master of the Hunt, "Our voices? Or other voices?"
Eurytus, Master of the Hunt says, "... yours, of course. High Chief, sometimes when I say things, I do not speak esoterically."
Eurytus, Master of the Hunt adds, "I leave that to the stargazers and seers."
You say to Eurytus, Master of the Hunt, "Forgive me, Master."
Shrugging his shoulders, Eurytus, Master of the Hunt says, "Forgiven, I guess."
He's like a grumpy old grandpa .
Everiine is a man, and is very manly. This MAN before you is so manly you might as well just gender bend right now, cause he's the manliest man that you ever did see. His manly shape has spurned many women and girlyer men to boughs of fainting. He stands before you in a manly manerific typical man-like outfit which is covered in his manly motto: "I am a man!"
Daraius said: You gotta risk it for the biscuit.
Pony power all the way, yo. The more Brontaurs the better.
You kneel solemnly before a handsome man redolent in splendid crimson robes, his features elusive and formless. He bids you rise as his luminous silver mate shifts uncomfortably, and you take your place at his right hand, turning to face the ten assembled before you. They argue quietly amongst themselves, and you raise your mailed fist, bathing them in your brilliant golden luminescence. They fall silent, and the handsome man begins to speak.
Comments
(It's a joke)
-
Estarra the Eternal says, "Give Shevat the floor please."
In your mind you conjure a dream for the nearby hanging dream anchor:
An alien scream pierces your mind, accompanied by a familiar sound - a chilling sound. Something is dying, and someone is laughing.
new dreams.
In your mind you conjure a dream for the nearby hanging dream anchor:
As you welcome another scholar into your traveling group, you're bombarded by a cacophony of requests to move more swiftly to several different places. You spy a wandering bard in the distance, eye the group you're leading, and then sigh, resolving to only offer guidance to pilgrims from now on.
Ok been there done that.
The eye of Dylara materialises in your hands and flings itself around your neck, tightening incomprehensibly until it is irremovable.
Perfectly clean, this eyeball has been wrenched from the socket of Dylara. It has been animated by some unusual force, constantly looking around itself as if in shock or fear. It is bathed in a light covering of white flames that roll endlessly over its surface. A single chain of empyreal metal pierces either side of the eye, allowing it to be worn around the neck.
@Daraius Same thing happened to @Remmiel in a manse today.
Plus bleeding, iirc.
-Kilian
So THAT'S how Kethuru keeps breaking out. Taint-breath shattering worlds :'D
Ixion tells you, "// I don't think anyone else had a clue, amazing form."
You give a chubby little swan a friendly cuddle.
Omg I can't handle the cute. Can we have some way to make them stay babies forever?
#swaaaaaaaannnns
Gruffly, Eurytus, Master of the Hunt says, "I thought I heard voices."
Tilting his head, you ask Eurytus, Master of the Hunt, "Our voices? Or other voices?"
Eurytus, Master of the Hunt says, "... yours, of course. High Chief, sometimes when I say things, I
do not speak esoterically."
Eurytus, Master of the Hunt adds, "I leave that to the stargazers and seers."
You say to Eurytus, Master of the Hunt, "Forgive me, Master."
Shrugging his shoulders, Eurytus, Master of the Hunt says, "Forgiven, I guess."
He's like a grumpy old grandpa
and formless. He bids you rise as his luminous silver mate shifts uncomfortably, and you take your
place at his right hand, turning to face the ten assembled before you. They argue quietly amongst
themselves, and you raise your mailed fist, bathing them in your brilliant golden luminescence. They
fall silent, and the handsome man begins to speak.
Who dat?
Ixion tells you, "// I don't think anyone else had a clue, amazing form."