Discussion in 'Fall from Heaven Lore' started by Fenboy, Apr 14, 2008.
oh and just open the XML files in notepad/wordpad That's what I do.
Glad to hear it. The patchy nature of the 'pedia is pretty much the only disappointing thing about FFH.
So, just one question about these dwarves, from reading the entries of Kandros and Arturus: are we to assume that they are just two clans of the underground dwarves who banished themselves to the surface, and that the vast majority of the dwarves are still in the Underhome? If they are still there, do they have any idea about what's going on on the surface? How does Armageddon affect them? I would imagine that they have little in the way of technology and all, not having access to any topside resources (but still enough for somebody to have a 'mithril axe'...) and do any of the Khazad ever try to go back below?
Also, what was the feud, and the childish act that Arturus did? Was it over banishing themselves from the Underhome? Or something else? And if the first, do they plan on going back together?
Yes, it is the banishment he is refering to, but I don't expect that they would be moving back into the underhome, since by this time they have established themselves in their empires.
There are still many dwarves living underground; I'd expect that they trade with the Khazad, but not other nations. The who stayed underground (in the underhome, not just underground homes that dwarves may have built in surface cities) are probably the most isolationist types.
She's finished, now I just have to wait for the approval of the man behind the lore
any chance on sneak peek...?
She's undergoing extensive revision, so I'm afraid some waiting will be required
Just read it. The bit explaining how Charadon has survived into the Age of Rebirth when all the other characters of Age of Ice (except Sandalphon) have passed into history was nice.
Oh, yeah, it was included in the patch. And here was me thinking I could throw out something brand new
Anyway, for those who are interested:
“We need to find out more about him.”
“Need to find out more, are we the yellow skirts now? Why do you obsess about knowledge? It’s that kind of talk that makes the civilized…” Charadon practically spat the word “…people soft. It makes you soft as well.”
Mahala ignored him. Blustering, headstrong fool… “The man could be a fraud, or he could be a very real threat – or an ally. We need certainty, or as much as can be had. If the Illians are on the rise…”
She had hoped he would see sense for once, but their discussion deteriorated, as usual. Damned, stupid, singleminded, vicious bastard. For the Shamans to reawaken this monster… Mahala took a deep breath and tried again to argue her point.
“All your pointless wars will do is make sure our enemies get organized and decide that we are better off extinct!”
“Hah! All you want to do is weaken us and then hand us over to our enemies, to be put in pens like sheep and cows! Better to die as warriors than live as thralls!”
“Sheep and c… Argh! I am thinking of our CHILDREN, while all you think of is your thirst for BLOOD!”
“If I didn’t watch you every second, I’m sure you would sneak up and plant a knife in my back – then you’d be rid of the last defender of Doviello strength!” The insult was clear and damning. Killing an opponent in any other way than in public, gory, single combat, was perhaps the most cowardly thing the Doviello could think of.
“I would never shame myself like that – but I wish to Camulos someone WOULD challenge you! You are well past your prime anyway! It’s about time the pack had a new leader, grey hair. Bringing you back was a mistake.”
She could see that struck home. She knew it would. Charadon’s face turned deep purple with unfettered rage.
“You rodent! How dare you! You ungrateful little sheep’s daughter! It is not too late to make you into mothers meat, weakling! You will listen to your pack leader!”
“You are not my pack leader! I built the Doviello alone with my bare hands! After your failed age of ice, they had nothing but me. The Doviello is my pack!” Mahala had enough. She turned to leave, but Charadon grabbed her from behind, wrapped his arms around her waist, held her tight and brought his head to the level of hers.
Mahala could smell the stench of rotting meat and bad teeth on Charadons breath as he panted in her ear: “Your mind is weak, your words are foolish, but your body has… potential. We would have strong cubs, leaders. As long as they had my good blood in them…” There was an undertone to his statement, an ill-controlled growl of anticipation and desire, anger turned to lust.
She snarled, twisted, and brought her knife, concealed in the folds of her sleeve, up along his jugular. She drew blood, a hairline running along his neck.
Undeterred, Charadon flashed her a lecherous grin, and backed away from her. As he left the hall, his parting words were “Not yet, I see.” That lascivious dog, Mahala thought uncharitably, as her chest heaved and fell, the adrenaline pumping through her veins.
It didn’t really matter what Charadon decided, she would be conducting her own investigations anyway. At this stage, it looked like a very good idea to go away for a while.
She closed her eyes and once again saw the figure from her dream. Handsome, but… effeminate, foppish, with some ridiculous roguish affectations and a thin, pointy sword that looked like it was only good for skewering meat. He did not seem like a warrior, let alone a hero or someone she could trust. But he must be important. Why else would such a figure haunt her sleep?
After waiting for Charadon to lumber out and meet his henchmen, Mahala slipped out the back. Her mount was waiting, along with a handful of her most trusted and capable friends and bodyguards. One of them, a huntress named Ciciel, approached her.
“We are ready. Did you get any more help?”
“We will make do with what we’ve got. That man is impossible to reason with. Camulos, he is impossible to even speak to! He tried to mate with me, again! If I could, I would have every Shaman who helped recall that lunatic from Camulos’ vault put to death.”
“The elders seem to think it was good. A leader in a time of need, with so many young beastmen dying on failed raids…”
“No time of need! It was sad to be weakened like that, it was dark times to be sure, but it was a necessary cull of the headstrong.” Mahala did not mention that occasionally the raids had failed on purpose. Not many people knew that, and her continued good health depended on her keeping it that way: “We would have emerged much more lethal and efficient afterwards, but now, now…”
Mahala gave her stubborn horse a sharp jab in the belly, forcing him to exhale the air he was holding on to. Then she pulled the saddle strap tight.
“Now this ghost from the past thinks it is a good idea to use the chaos in the deadlands to raid everyone else with abandon, and hang everything else. It is folly either way – if they defeat him, they’re coming for us, but if the sorcerer wins, we will not escape either.”
Mahala peered around the corner of the great hall. She could just see Charadon busily inspecting his beloved War Machine. It was the perfect device for Charadon, brutal and direct. No wonder he loved it so much. She busied herself with her own preparations.
“Well, at least one of us has some common sense and a will to think beyond the tip of her sword.”
Charadon would probably just be glad to be rid of her, so he could continue his mad race to drown the Doviello in blood. But she was bringing one man he was sure to miss…
“Ciciel, is Lucien here yet?”
Yes, Tasunke used to have a leader entry about a ternament he attended when he was younger, where he keep doing exelent, but a girl just barely behind him in score him. At archery, riding at fighting, the girl just keeped doing almost as good as him, even though he beat everone else out my a long shot, and he was getting angry, altought he didn't know why. While in a horse race, he was in the lead, the girl close behind, but he fell or was thrown off his mount. When his vision cleared, the girl was standing overhim, offering his help up. He got angry and started yelling at her, about how she'd chosen to help him rather than win. As he stormed off, he her her say her name way Rhoanna. Many Years latter, he was at the meating table with Rhoanna, now as leader of the Aroul-Hippi, and he was realizing why he he had felt so mad at being betten by her.
I've peraphrased this abit, but this is as best as I can remember Tasunke's entry. I think it was removed about 2.25
Arturus Thorne and Kandros Fir have their pedia entries again in 0.32g. Kandros Fir's is the story of their banishment/exile at the beginning of the Age of Rebirth, whereas Arturus Thorne's entry is their eventual reconciliation 50 years later.
This doesnt seem familiar to me at all. I suspect it may have been a story in the old wiki, players sometimes added their own stories in that from time to time.
Hm, might have been.
It (or something similar) was definetely in the pedia, briefly. He was extremely competative and, although upset at a mere girl almost beating him, was more upset that she didn't seem to sense any rivalry. She didn't seem to be putting her all into it, treating it more like a game, whereas he consiered being the absolute best to be a matter of life and death. He had an almost Charadon-eque mentality. At the end though, he had developed a begrudging respect for her.
Well, I think he might have had more than just resepect for her, even if he didn't realize it.
It's official. I'm a Mahala fan now. Nice work.
I was under the impression that Charadon died at least a century before Mahala was born...
I just read it and yea it certainly seems like that. Her entry also mentions Lucian, who seems to have lived at about the same time as Charadon did.
There is certainly a clash of mentalities in that entry, Charadon representing the old generation (more than a century ago) which preferred brawn way more over brains, while Mahala represents the newer generation which uses thier brains as well.
I also get the idea that women in Charadon's day had far less freedom than the Doviello of Mahalas generation. It was like he was almost straining not to tear Mahala to shreds just for speaking against him.
The march of Women's Liberation is unstoppable, even in Erebus!
Read carefully, they resurrected him:
Separate names with a comma.