loocas wrote an entry for the Catacomb libralus that described the process of binding books that were made of human bone and skin but kael told him to rewrite it with more magic in it. i like that interpretation of it and i always hoped he would redo it
Community Request: Building Pedia Entries
- Thread starter Kael
- Start date
At first: Sorry for my suboptimal english, but I'm not a native speaker.
It is adapted from a short story by Roald Dahl.
TXT_KEY_UNIT_GIANT_TORTOISE_PEDIA and/or TXT_KEY_UNIT_WAR_TORTOISE_PEDIA
Thedro was a shy boy. For the son of a lanunic fisherman it was perfectly normal to have a deep relationship with the sea and its inhabitants, but Thedro admired the creatures of the water more than humans. One day he watched as/howhis father and a few other fishermen came ashore with a very large tortoise and were talking about how many days they could feast on it. When the men were gone away to call the other people from the village and brag with their prey, he crept to the animal and freed it from the heavy dew, which prevented it from going back into the sea.[PARAGRAPH:1]Captain Jeddak, an infamous corsar, gave, in each and every quayside bar or smuggling den, report on an incredible event, which happened directly in front of his eyes. On a large island where he and his men wanted to bunker fresh water, was a young man sitting at the beach. Right next to him laid a giant tortoise in the sand. When the two saw the ship, the young man climbed on the back of the tortoise and both swam away in a hurry.[PARAGRAPH:1]Shipwrecked report, that there are some Lanun, who form a rare unity with the giant tortoises of Erebus. They advise each captain to immediately tack around when spotting such a [LINK=UNIT_WAR_TORTOISE]War Tortoise[\LINK] at the horizon.
It is adapted from a short story by Roald Dahl.
Spoiler German :
Aeon221
Lord of the Cheese Helmet
- Joined
- Apr 22, 2003
- Messages
- 1,995
I've always liked this chant and it seems appropriate (with modification, of course) to me, as I tend to imagine the Bannor as Catholics.
Not my best work, but not my worst either.
edit: For the Temple of the Order.
Blasting Workshop
"Hey...*hic* what if we made them shoot fire *hic* balls?" slurred Ramus as he picked up his ale.
"That *hic* lad is a *hic* great idea!" yelled Ofal as he fell off his stool.
-The Night Blasting Workshops Were Invented at a Luchuirp Tavern.
"Hey...*hic* what if we made them shoot fire *hic* balls?" slurred Ramus as he picked up his ale.
"That *hic* lad is a *hic* great idea!" yelled Ofal as he fell off his stool.
-The Night Blasting Workshops Were Invented at a Luchuirp Tavern.
Two more. The part between () could be left out to lighten the load of our german translators 
.
Demons Altar
As I hurtled down the blade to boy,
Sliced through flesh young as planned,
I fixed the dagger into the stone,
So complete the glyph therein.
As struggling to escape the knife impale,
His last breath the child did losen,
The body stilled, the room did dark,
And voices bespoke to me,
Of secrets bleak and knowledge dark,
Of truths to smite my foes.
(I received these boons, my head held high,
Though down deep, below the bone,
I knew Id darkened my creation .)
Shrine of Sirona
Your Grace, to fully appreciate my request, I have to regale you with a bit of history. As you are no doubt aware, during the Age of Dragons many a god gifted his or her followers powerful artifacts or embued areas with their potent magics, meant to turn the tide of war into their favor. When the compact was forged, the Elohim tribesmen were charged with protecting most of those artifacts. Im sure you are aware of some of them. After the fall of Bhall and the coming of the Age of Ice, they lost control of them and most were destroyed. As of now, they have not yet regained control of the remaining ones, and Im not sure they ever will as others now dispute their rights to them. Well, one of these sites held the remains of Immanuel Logos, one of Sironas most compassionate supporters. It is rumoured that Sirona herself build his tomb, wept over his body and assisted in his journey to the afterlife. The Elohim held it in great esteem, but the site was destroyed when Mulcarn rose.
Through diligent research and careful escavation, I have managed to salvage some small part of this sacred site. I propose we build a final resting place for this relic, a holy tribute to Sirona wisdom and compassion. I am sure this will improve our relations with the Elohim and it might even grant us a bit of compassion from Sirona herself.
The oaken throne creaked as the King leaned forward. Where is this relic, you so diligently describe, but is nowwhere to be seen?
Reaching inside her robes, the supplicant withdrew a small wooden box, no larger than a Balseraph snuff-box. She reverently shuffled towards the throne and knelt before the King, opening the box to his eyes only. Light burst from the box and illuminated the king, the throne, his advisor standing nearby and the wall behind. The Kings eyes went wide. Your Grace, I give you a true tear of Sirona. The woman spoke.
Three days later, construction started.
.Demons Altar
As I hurtled down the blade to boy,
Sliced through flesh young as planned,
I fixed the dagger into the stone,
So complete the glyph therein.
As struggling to escape the knife impale,
His last breath the child did losen,
The body stilled, the room did dark,
And voices bespoke to me,
Of secrets bleak and knowledge dark,
Of truths to smite my foes.
(I received these boons, my head held high,
Though down deep, below the bone,
I knew Id darkened my creation .)
Shrine of Sirona
Your Grace, to fully appreciate my request, I have to regale you with a bit of history. As you are no doubt aware, during the Age of Dragons many a god gifted his or her followers powerful artifacts or embued areas with their potent magics, meant to turn the tide of war into their favor. When the compact was forged, the Elohim tribesmen were charged with protecting most of those artifacts. Im sure you are aware of some of them. After the fall of Bhall and the coming of the Age of Ice, they lost control of them and most were destroyed. As of now, they have not yet regained control of the remaining ones, and Im not sure they ever will as others now dispute their rights to them. Well, one of these sites held the remains of Immanuel Logos, one of Sironas most compassionate supporters. It is rumoured that Sirona herself build his tomb, wept over his body and assisted in his journey to the afterlife. The Elohim held it in great esteem, but the site was destroyed when Mulcarn rose.
Through diligent research and careful escavation, I have managed to salvage some small part of this sacred site. I propose we build a final resting place for this relic, a holy tribute to Sirona wisdom and compassion. I am sure this will improve our relations with the Elohim and it might even grant us a bit of compassion from Sirona herself.
The oaken throne creaked as the King leaned forward. Where is this relic, you so diligently describe, but is nowwhere to be seen?
Reaching inside her robes, the supplicant withdrew a small wooden box, no larger than a Balseraph snuff-box. She reverently shuffled towards the throne and knelt before the King, opening the box to his eyes only. Light burst from the box and illuminated the king, the throne, his advisor standing nearby and the wall behind. The Kings eyes went wide. Your Grace, I give you a true tear of Sirona. The woman spoke.
Three days later, construction started.
Governor's Manor-
From this arises the question whether it is better to be loved rather than feared, or feared rather than loved. It might perhaps be answered that we should wish to be both: but since love and fear can hardly exist together, if we must choose between them, it is far safer to be feared than loved.
From this arises the question whether it is better to be loved rather than feared, or feared rather than loved. It might perhaps be answered that we should wish to be both: but since love and fear can hardly exist together, if we must choose between them, it is far safer to be feared than loved.
Basilica-
The general who advances without coveting fame and retreats without fearing disgrace, whose only thought is to protect his country and do good service for his sovereign, is the jewel of the kingdom.
-Inscription on Basilica Outer Gate
EDIT:
credit for this and the above entry is Machiavelli and Sun Tzu, respectively.
The general who advances without coveting fame and retreats without fearing disgrace, whose only thought is to protect his country and do good service for his sovereign, is the jewel of the kingdom.
-Inscription on Basilica Outer Gate
EDIT:
credit for this and the above entry is Machiavelli and Sun Tzu, respectively.
Crazy_Ivan
Chieftain
- Joined
- Oct 4, 2007
- Messages
- 60
To have murdered so many people in such a short space of time is really awful, and I really am very, very, very sorry that I did it, and also that I've taken up so much of the court's valuable time listening to the sordid details of these senseless killings of mine. - You know I think sometimes we ought to realize the difficult and often dangerous work involved in tracking down violent criminals like myself and I'd just like them to know that their fine work is at least appreciated by me.
-
"Well, all right. Six months."
"Thank you, m'lud."
"But suspended."
-
-The abridged closing testimony of Randall and following sentencing at the Coombe Veiw grand Court.
Courthouse
"It's a grand beut i'n it lad?"
"Yea, but what does this bit do?"
"Do'nt be touchin that ya' agares damned fool!"
"I'll do as I please you short stacked weakling!"
-The breaking point of Doviello and Khazad engineering exchanges
Machinists Shop
In times past, all guilds of magic have argued over the correct way to conduct rituals, even coming down to when the contellations have come into prominance. It becomes an even more important thing to know when an entire nation tries to undertake a ritual. The slightest miscalculation in the Hallowing ritual could damn the world to another ice age! So, with the compass, we become the authority on rituals. Or atleast we seem to. That's what counts in magic right?
-Arch-Mage Kumulos and Celestial Signfigance
Celestial Compass
-
"Well, all right. Six months."
"Thank you, m'lud."
"But suspended."
-
-The abridged closing testimony of Randall and following sentencing at the Coombe Veiw grand Court.
Courthouse
"It's a grand beut i'n it lad?"
"Yea, but what does this bit do?"
"Do'nt be touchin that ya' agares damned fool!"
"I'll do as I please you short stacked weakling!"
-The breaking point of Doviello and Khazad engineering exchanges
Machinists Shop
In times past, all guilds of magic have argued over the correct way to conduct rituals, even coming down to when the contellations have come into prominance. It becomes an even more important thing to know when an entire nation tries to undertake a ritual. The slightest miscalculation in the Hallowing ritual could damn the world to another ice age! So, with the compass, we become the authority on rituals. Or atleast we seem to. That's what counts in magic right?
-Arch-Mage Kumulos and Celestial Signfigance
Celestial Compass
DrPepper836
Warlord
- Joined
- Oct 29, 2007
- Messages
- 134
Here's my 2 bits for the tax office:
I sighed as I moved forward in line. Slowly, always slowly. Always so many people. I stood there, thinking, when suddenly I heard something. A loud shriek, coming from in front of me by the teller. I peeked around the people in front of me, and saw an old woman, terrified, arguing with the guards.
"Nooooooooooo," she screamed. "Nooooooooo, you can't do this to me!"
"Ma'am, hand it over."
"No, please! My husband and three suns have all died in the war. Please! It's all I have left!"
"I'm sorry ma'am. Rules are rules. Now hand it here."
"Please! Please, no! Please", she sobbed, "please..."
All that was returned was a stony look from the teller.
"I'm sorry, but I can't pay! Please!" she begged in utter terror.
"I'm sorry too," whispered the teller as he summoned the guards. "Take her to the basilica and confiscate her lands by force in the name of Junil!"
"You can't do this to me! Nooooooooo!"
She tried to escape, but the guards held her tight. She turned to me as she passed by.
"Help me. Please," she begged almost silently.
I sighed, and moved forward in line.
I sighed as I moved forward in line. Slowly, always slowly. Always so many people. I stood there, thinking, when suddenly I heard something. A loud shriek, coming from in front of me by the teller. I peeked around the people in front of me, and saw an old woman, terrified, arguing with the guards.
"Nooooooooooo," she screamed. "Nooooooooo, you can't do this to me!"
"Ma'am, hand it over."
"No, please! My husband and three suns have all died in the war. Please! It's all I have left!"
"I'm sorry ma'am. Rules are rules. Now hand it here."
"Please! Please, no! Please", she sobbed, "please..."
All that was returned was a stony look from the teller.
"I'm sorry, but I can't pay! Please!" she begged in utter terror.
"I'm sorry too," whispered the teller as he summoned the guards. "Take her to the basilica and confiscate her lands by force in the name of Junil!"
"You can't do this to me! Nooooooooo!"
She tried to escape, but the guards held her tight. She turned to me as she passed by.
"Help me. Please," she begged almost silently.
I sighed, and moved forward in line.
Citadel of Light:
How does one beg the sun for mercy?
-Malakim rethoric
Granary:
What do you expect? It's a bloody granary.
It stores grain-type stuff. You'know: wheat, barley, corn, whatever.
We're not the bleedin' Doviello so there's no exotic vegetable plunder in there.
Now go look at something interesting and stop gettin' in our way.
-Granary grafitti (thought to be inscribed in response to villagers gawking at their local granary, it being the first communal building in town).
How does one beg the sun for mercy?
-Malakim rethoric
Granary:
What do you expect? It's a bloody granary.
It stores grain-type stuff. You'know: wheat, barley, corn, whatever.
We're not the bleedin' Doviello so there's no exotic vegetable plunder in there.
Now go look at something interesting and stop gettin' in our way.
-Granary grafitti (thought to be inscribed in response to villagers gawking at their local granary, it being the first communal building in town).
Falc
Warlord
- Joined
- Oct 6, 2007
- Messages
- 292
Breeding Pit
The stench is nauseating. The buzzing of the flies, circling the carcass, could drive a man insane. That cow must have been dead for a week. I try not to notice the blood-smeared fingerprints on the official form the farmer hands me as he stops his cart in front of the city gate. Delivery for the Pit, I could have guessed...
The stench is nauseating. The buzzing of the flies, circling the carcass, could drive a man insane. That cow must have been dead for a week. I try not to notice the blood-smeared fingerprints on the official form the farmer hands me as he stops his cart in front of the city gate. Delivery for the Pit, I could have guessed...
fuzzy_bunnies
Prince
- Joined
- May 28, 2004
- Messages
- 325
The Necronomicon
"And I call upon Akthel the Bloated,
Ymarra of the Rotted Tongue,
To fill this unworthy vessel, Arise!
I plea to Zhral of the Khillan Depths,
The entire lesser pantheon of Ghor,
Bestow a boon to this child of the Gods, ARISE!
The power of the Gods enter this servant,
Draw him into your smothering embrace,
ARISE, SOLDIER OF THE OVERLORDS, ARISE!"
- Ritual of the Drowned, A Reading from the Necronomicon According to the Cultist Bren
Hall of Mirrors
"I turn to the left, I turn to the right,
No others but myself in sight.
Another dead end, another false start,
Is that terror, clutching my heart?
Nothing to fear, a trick of the light,
Wait... did I just move to the right?"
- From "Jilly in the Hall of Mirrors"
"And I call upon Akthel the Bloated,
Ymarra of the Rotted Tongue,
To fill this unworthy vessel, Arise!
I plea to Zhral of the Khillan Depths,
The entire lesser pantheon of Ghor,
Bestow a boon to this child of the Gods, ARISE!
The power of the Gods enter this servant,
Draw him into your smothering embrace,
ARISE, SOLDIER OF THE OVERLORDS, ARISE!"
- Ritual of the Drowned, A Reading from the Necronomicon According to the Cultist Bren
Hall of Mirrors
"I turn to the left, I turn to the right,
No others but myself in sight.
Another dead end, another false start,
Is that terror, clutching my heart?
Nothing to fear, a trick of the light,
Wait... did I just move to the right?"
- From "Jilly in the Hall of Mirrors"
orangelex44
Partisan
Cave of Ancestors
"Look, I understand that you mages like to talk to their dead grandfathers and whatnot. We come willingly to teach. I'm just saying that you might have gotten a few more to come if you hadn't made the building so damn creepy."
- Mikel Dylantyr to his great-great grandson Josiphus
"Look, I understand that you mages like to talk to their dead grandfathers and whatnot. We come willingly to teach. I'm just saying that you might have gotten a few more to come if you hadn't made the building so damn creepy."
- Mikel Dylantyr to his great-great grandson Josiphus
fuzzy_bunnies
Prince
- Joined
- May 28, 2004
- Messages
- 325
Brewery
The colony was not doing well. The ice was receding but left in its wake all manner of beast and barbary. After centuries of underground confinement, the openness of the surface left a feeling of naked exposure rather than freedom. In every direction, I heard whispers that perhaps the return of the Luichirp to the surface was a horrible mistake.
The door of the hall shuddered as a thick boot kicked it open. My guards reached for their axes but it was only Lindur, holding a bottle and a wide grin under his unkempt beard. I demanded an explanation for his interruption but he just continued grinning as he held up the bottle, filled with a faintly sparkling amber liquid, and said,
My Lord, I bring Courage
- From the Diary of Clanwarden Doron
The colony was not doing well. The ice was receding but left in its wake all manner of beast and barbary. After centuries of underground confinement, the openness of the surface left a feeling of naked exposure rather than freedom. In every direction, I heard whispers that perhaps the return of the Luichirp to the surface was a horrible mistake.
The door of the hall shuddered as a thick boot kicked it open. My guards reached for their axes but it was only Lindur, holding a bottle and a wide grin under his unkempt beard. I demanded an explanation for his interruption but he just continued grinning as he held up the bottle, filled with a faintly sparkling amber liquid, and said,
My Lord, I bring Courage
- From the Diary of Clanwarden Doron
BeefontheBone
Windbag of the sea
- Joined
- Nov 7, 2005
- Messages
- 2,018
Apart from rhyming 'right' twice, I rather like this. Not sure how to change it though - perhaps something like "What's that terror, clutching my heart? / something something something take flight / Nothing to fear, a trick of the light." Problem being that you lose the hanging ending.
fuzzy_bunnies
Prince
- Joined
- May 28, 2004
- Messages
- 325
Thanks! Hrmm I didn't even notice double use of "right" the first time... I don't think I like the rhythm as much but how about:
Hall of Mirrors
"Turning here, turning there,
No one but me, everywhere.
Another dead end, another false start,
Is that terror, clutching my heart?
Nothing to fear, a trick of the light,
Wait... did I just move to the right?"
- From "Jilly in the Hall of Mirrors"
Jabie
Wanted in Monte Carlo...
Looks like the tax office doesn't have an entry. How about:
"There are two things certain in life: Death and Taxes. And this government combines both in inheritance tax." Velvo the Fifth, Landlord of the The Bent Nail.
"There are two things certain in life: Death and Taxes. And this government combines both in inheritance tax." Velvo the Fifth, Landlord of the The Bent Nail.
Gooblah
Heh...
- Joined
- Jun 5, 2007
- Messages
- 4,282
Breeding Pit:
...The first thing I noticed was the smell. The stench of drying blood and salty sweat mingled in the air to the point where one sniff would force one to gag, and too much time in the surrounding area would make one retch. It grew steadily worse the closer you got, until the sounds reached you as well. An assortment of animalistic grunts and squeals, like pigs before slaughter. My hand trembled as I moved to the entrance of the wooden building. Summoning my courage and calling upon the gods to save me, I swung the door open. A blast of smell, sound, and sight hit me, and I knelt on the ground, retching, pausing only to wipe my mouth between sessions. Finally, when my stomach was empty, I entered. It was a sight never to be forgotten. Dozens of young men and women, nude, on top of one another, their bodies swinging together. Was this truly the Calabim legacy? I was not noticed. Those...things...scarcely human, yet not animals...bred. Bred like stray dogs and cats wandering the streets of a populous city. Every so often a women would scream, a man would yell. Finally, the full moon was revealed from behind the clouds which veiled it. Instantly, everything stopped. I was not prepared. I clutched my inks and parchment and scurried to the door, stopping only to see what was going on for an instant. Soldiers moved into the pit and separated the...things...by gender. The women were hauled away, the men sent back into service. At that time I knew not what I had beholden. When I revisited the same site nine months later, the memories of the night still fresh, I saw a strange sight. Half the city appeared to be young...things. I asked a guard where the older ones were. He only replied that they had been taken to the palace, like they were every nine months. I shuddered. The rumors may be true. Those things were raised like cattle to be preyed upon by the queen and her court! Needless to say, t'was my last venture into Calabim lands before the scourge were wiped off the face of Erebus...
~an excerpt from The Chronicles of Old by Cristobal the Elder.
...The first thing I noticed was the smell. The stench of drying blood and salty sweat mingled in the air to the point where one sniff would force one to gag, and too much time in the surrounding area would make one retch. It grew steadily worse the closer you got, until the sounds reached you as well. An assortment of animalistic grunts and squeals, like pigs before slaughter. My hand trembled as I moved to the entrance of the wooden building. Summoning my courage and calling upon the gods to save me, I swung the door open. A blast of smell, sound, and sight hit me, and I knelt on the ground, retching, pausing only to wipe my mouth between sessions. Finally, when my stomach was empty, I entered. It was a sight never to be forgotten. Dozens of young men and women, nude, on top of one another, their bodies swinging together. Was this truly the Calabim legacy? I was not noticed. Those...things...scarcely human, yet not animals...bred. Bred like stray dogs and cats wandering the streets of a populous city. Every so often a women would scream, a man would yell. Finally, the full moon was revealed from behind the clouds which veiled it. Instantly, everything stopped. I was not prepared. I clutched my inks and parchment and scurried to the door, stopping only to see what was going on for an instant. Soldiers moved into the pit and separated the...things...by gender. The women were hauled away, the men sent back into service. At that time I knew not what I had beholden. When I revisited the same site nine months later, the memories of the night still fresh, I saw a strange sight. Half the city appeared to be young...things. I asked a guard where the older ones were. He only replied that they had been taken to the palace, like they were every nine months. I shuddered. The rumors may be true. Those things were raised like cattle to be preyed upon by the queen and her court! Needless to say, t'was my last venture into Calabim lands before the scourge were wiped off the face of Erebus...
~an excerpt from The Chronicles of Old by Cristobal the Elder.
Gooblah
Heh...
- Joined
- Jun 5, 2007
- Messages
- 4,282
Arena:
A roar poured forth from the hundreds of spectators gathered to watch the event. Five ravenous, furious lions, one man armed with nothing but a sword and tunic together in the center of the stadium. The box seats, the lap of luxury for the richest of the city, were full. It was rumored that the king himself would make an appearance. The lions steadily advanced on the man, who did not shirk away. Instead, he drew his tunic around him, gripped his sword tightly, and charged. Within a second one lion lay dead, its head surrounded by a growing pool of blood. The sanguine scent was caught by the wind, which spread it to the eager masses. Cheers broke out as a second animal fell. By now, the man was scratched and bruised, and blood wept from a long gash on his leg. His movements began to slow as the remaining three lions advanced upon him. Another slash of metal caught only hairs of a mane as one after another the three lions pounced. A drawn-out scream, a gasp in the audience, and the retreat of the mammals as a carcass lay flat on the sand, dyeing the dirt red. Louder cheers this time, tempered by the groans of those who had lost a bet. The men in the box seats gave a thumbs-up signal, a movement copied by the others in the audience. Slowly, the men and women filed out of the arena and back home. The only noises left were the growls of the lions.
A roar poured forth from the hundreds of spectators gathered to watch the event. Five ravenous, furious lions, one man armed with nothing but a sword and tunic together in the center of the stadium. The box seats, the lap of luxury for the richest of the city, were full. It was rumored that the king himself would make an appearance. The lions steadily advanced on the man, who did not shirk away. Instead, he drew his tunic around him, gripped his sword tightly, and charged. Within a second one lion lay dead, its head surrounded by a growing pool of blood. The sanguine scent was caught by the wind, which spread it to the eager masses. Cheers broke out as a second animal fell. By now, the man was scratched and bruised, and blood wept from a long gash on his leg. His movements began to slow as the remaining three lions advanced upon him. Another slash of metal caught only hairs of a mane as one after another the three lions pounced. A drawn-out scream, a gasp in the audience, and the retreat of the mammals as a carcass lay flat on the sand, dyeing the dirt red. Louder cheers this time, tempered by the groans of those who had lost a bet. The men in the box seats gave a thumbs-up signal, a movement copied by the others in the audience. Slowly, the men and women filed out of the arena and back home. The only noises left were the growls of the lions.
