"...refuse to leave or get the hint to do so..." -- Scribes

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HAY!

<<So in short, some information that exists is that which is passed on between GMs, as one class comes in and another slowly departs. That which isn't recorded in our backend source and isn't passed on, regretfully vanishes into the ether. Thankfully, we have a few folks who refuse to leave or get the hint to do so, so there's a nice enough living memory archive of events/NPCs/and other odds and ends.

When I came back full time in 2010 this was one of the big ones I set out to correct. Making sure we put pen to paper so we ensure those stories are remember. I am planning to write up the "Diggers guide to uncovering lost lore" post with tips and tricks to unearthing information and piecing together puzzles. Wyrom had mentioned very few recap types exist, but I think it's making a rather big comeback lately.

Could we put out a challenge and piece together which GMs ran which event or how about just a random list of events to ensure that we have as much info as possible. Swalafat is a topic of discussion lately. The only thing I've ever found is a Storytelling night sponsored by Arwen from Kree. Maybe it could be a task of Lorekeepers to piece things together. I'm also sure some old lore is sitting around in an unreleased document, maybe it's just snippets, but every bit helps.

I put together everything I could on the Bregandians since it really didn't have much besides Juspera's logs, which was just a shame at the time. A lot is on Krakii really, but certainly not everything. The GSS and VVrael are well represented and we have a ton of Summoners and Star of Kharta info, but I bet that was true of every story, until time passes, people stop, hard drives corrupt, and we lose the data.

Lacheis is one I'd like to get more info on. I know who ran him even, and he's around, but I'm just not satisfied yet. :)

-J/G

<<You're welcome to ask and I can see what I can find out. I don't think it would be too big a deal to pass on which GMs did what if those GMs are no longer with us.

Challenge accepted!

HA. I think the enchanter was Fumbles.

Give me the name of that rat fink who played Terate. So I can beat him up IRL for imploding me a bazillion times.

:)

-farmer

"Terate, I believe was played by GM-Talairi" -- FirePhoenix

Whose player-character I actually saw at some point (about a couple-three years ago?) when I was actually playing a little bit.

I found out that Isten was involved, but as part of a team. Kaikala was apparently also involved with at least coding some stuff.

Short of quizzing coworkers that's all I can offer at the moment.

GM Scribes

Other names I found for this event:

Bradach
Carraig
Daecir
Gromial
Isten
Krash
Tragor

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Other things I found, for posterity:


The mottled grey banaltra is tall and pale, unnaturally lean and strangely humanoid in shape. Its long hands have seven thin, spider-like fingers that end in spiny claws. When clenched together the fingers form an efficient digging tool...or a lethal weapon. The skin of the banaltra is knobbed and ridged, more like shell than flesh.

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The parchment is tacked to the wall with a pair of octagonal brass brads. The handwriting is rather slap-dash, as if written hurriedly on an uneven surface.

BEWARE! BE ALERT! BE WARNED!

The town is being plagued by banaltra. They are killing the old and the young and taking their bodies to feed a creature called a feithidmor. It is the feithidmor that is creating the high-pitched sound heard throughout the town. That sound is capable of blocking brain activity. It also seems to induce a mental state which can trigger a collective, unconscious memory of previous attacks by the banaltra and the feithidmor in centuries past. The memory reveals itself in the form of chanted rhymes.

The feithidmor, we are told, is growing in its underground lair. When it reaches maturity it will burrow its way to the surface. The sound the creature emits, no longer muted by rock and soil, will render all those nearby unconscious. The feithidmor and banaltra will then engage in a feeding frenzy.

If you want to be safe, avoid the town. Temporarily stay in the wilds or relocate to one of the communities in the frozen north.

If you wish to stay and defend the town, try to assist your compatriots in deciphering the chanted rhymes. At some point, if the rhymes are solved, the visiting sylvan Lorekeepers will recruit volunteers to seek the feithidmor in its lair...and slay it.

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A group of children race in, shouting and playing a child's game involving a soft leather ball and some sticks.

Suddenly, they all come to a halt! They drop the sticks, the ball rolls to a halt.

A glazed look comes over the innocent faces of the children. Their jaws go slack....and they begin to chant.

“Some come up, some go down.
Something ugly underground.
Old ones die, young ones too.
Something ugly coming for you.
We see bones, we see bones, we see bones.”

As suddenly as it came, the glazed look leaves the faces of the children. They blink rapidly a few times and giggle nervously. The youngest child moans woefully and slowly collapses! Her eyes roll up in her head and her tiny body goes horribly still. The other children stare at the young girl in alarm as she dies.

A sudden rumbling is followed immediately by an explosion of dirt and gravel! When the dust clears, the child's body is gone.

The children race away screaming.

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Some young children carrying baskets filled with wild berries stroll into the area. The boys try to impress the girls by tossing berries high into the air and catching them in their mouths.

Abruptly the children drop their baskets. Their eyes go blank and their berry-stained faces become expressionless. They begin to chant.

“Tree, tree, newly seen.
Blade, blade, razor keen.
Juice, juice, very mean.
Weed, weed, fresh and dirty.
Bloom, bloom, very purty.
Pot, pot, oh so sturdy.
Mixing them and hopin',
Eyes and mind wide open.”

All at once expression returns to the faces of the children. They blink confusedly for a moment and share an anxious glance with each other. They pick up their baskets as if to go on their way.

The youngest boy utters a guttural moan and collapses on the ground. His eyes flutter a few times then roll up in his head. He dies before anybody can move.

A sudden rumbling is followed immediately by an explosion of dirt and gravel! When the dust clears...the boy's body is gone!

The small children run for home as fast as their little legs will carry them."

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A group of children race in, shouting and playing some obscure child's game involving some nets and a stuffed toy sea slug.

Suddenly, they all come to a halt! They drop the nets, the toy slug lies unattended on the ground.

A glazed look comes over the innocent faces of the children. Their jaws go slack....and they begin to chant.

Danger danger underfoot.
Kiss the child goodbye.
Gammy, gammy, gammy's gone.
Wonder wonder why.
Nobody here?
They all disappear!”

As suddenly as it came, the glazed look leaves the faces of the children. They blink rapidly a few times and giggle nervously. The youngest child moans woefully and slowly collapses! Her eyes roll up in her head and her tiny body goes horribly still. The other children stare at the young girl in alarm as she dies.

A sudden rumbling is followed immediately by an explosion of dirt and gravel! When the dust clears, the girl's body is gone.

The children race away screaming.

---

Some children, elves and human, stroll into the area carrying baskets filled with wild berries. The boys try to impress the girls by tossing berries high into the air and catching them in their mouths.

Abruptly the children drop their baskets. Their eyes go blank and their berry-stained faces become expressionless. They begin to chant.

“Light soft wood, good good good.
Virgin blade on the branch is laid.
The stalk that heals a new side reveals.
Blossoms yellow, that's a good fellow.
In a big old pot, make it nice and hot.
With the water of life it could clear the strife.”

All at once expression returns to the faces of the children. They blink confusedly for a moment and share an anxious glance with each other. They pick up their baskets as if to go on their way.

The youngest suddenly boy utters a guttural moan and collapses on the ground. His eyes flutter a few times then roll up in his head. He dies before anybody can move.

A sudden rumbling is followed immediately by an explosion of dirt and gravel! When the dust clears...the boy's body is gone!

The children run for home as fast as their legs will carry them.

---

A pack of noisy children dash in playing a boisterous game of tag! They laugh and slap at each other, careless of the fuss and bother they create. The shouting and laughing come to an abrupt halt!

Suddenly, the children lose all expression in their faces...their eyes become dull, their jaws go slack. In unison, they begin to chant.

“Beneath a tree that grows too fast.
Gather the few, gather the few.
Follow the root to the distant past.
The beast pursue, the beast pursue.”

As the chant ends the children flutter their eyes for a moment. They look at each other with confusion and alarm. Then one slaps another on the shoulder and shouts “You're it!”

The tagged child, however, does not move. A low, mournful groan escapes his lips and he crumples to the ground. His eyes go white as they roll up in his head. He dies without making another sound.

A sudden rumbling is followed immediately by an explosion of dirt and gravel! When the dust clears...the child's body is gone!

The children scream and run away!

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A group of old dwarven men hobble along, gossiping and complaining about the lack of respect from young people these days.

Suddenly they come to a halt!

For the first time in decades the old dwarves stand up straight. Their eyes go blank and their toothless mouths become slack. They begin to chant:

“Sunny morning, sunny day.
The children go outside to play.
Day so pretty, sky so blue.
Mom and dad so proud of you.
Something happen to your head.
Something come and kill you dead.”

As the chanting ends the old dwarves blink a few times and rub their rheumy eyes. Their frail bodies again bend under the stress of their years. They look embarrassed and uneasy. As they cough and spit, the oldest dwarf slowly collapses onto the ground. A moan rattles from his aged lips and his watery eyes roll up in his head. His old friends watch in shock as he quietly dies.

A sudden rumbling is followed immediately by an explosion of dirt and gravel! When the dust clears...the old dwarf's body is gone!

His friends stare for a moment, then hobble away as quickly as they can.

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Some sturdy old dwarven women promenade in, their arms laden with packages and bags. They speak to each other in deep, refined tones, discussing the purchases of the day.

As one the old women drop their bags! Their old eyes lose all animation, their wrinkled lips go soft and slack...and they begin to chant:

“A blade clean as new cuts a bough from a tree.
A pot that's shaped like the hive of a bee.
A head-healing herb joins a golden flower.
With the water of life to save the hour.”

As their voices fade away the old women blink rapidly. They blush and fuss for a moment, then gather their packages. Suddenly the most frail old dwarven woman slides awkwardly to the ground. A deep moan escapes from her pursed lips. Her old eyes roll up under her papery eyelids. Her hands go limp as she dies.

A sudden rumbling is followed immediatly by and explosion of dirt and gravel! When the dust clears...the old woman's body is gone!

The other old dwarven women stumble and flee!

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A few old dwarven men and women amble in. Some walk hand in hand, others carry a picnic basket and an old blanket. They talk and smile quietly at each other--comfortable companions of many years.

Abruptly, the old dwarven couples senior citizens drop their handbags. They let their aged hands slide apart. Their smiles disappear replaced by a complete absence of expression. They begin to chant:

“Go find baby, go find gramp.
Down below where the dirt is damp.
The pretty flowers are fed by woes.
The gate of death is where the new life grows.”

As quickly as the animation left the faces of the old dwarves it now returns. The old couples blink in confusion and consternation. They gather their belongings and begin to hurry away. Before they go more than a few steps the eldest of the group collapses. He falls gracelessly to the ground, uttering a ghastly moan. His eyes roll back in his head and as his lifetime companion looks on in horror...he dies.

A sudden rumbling is followed immediately by an explosion of dirt and gravel! When the dust clears...the old dwarf's body is gone.

The others scurry away, pulling the old dwarf's wife with them.

---

A group of dwarven children race in, shouting and playing a child's game involving blunt wooden swords.

Suddenly, they all come to a halt! They drop the toy swords.

A glazed look comes over the innocent faces of the children. Their jaws go slack....and they begin to chant.

“Sunny morning, sunny day.
The children go outside to play.
Day so pretty, sky so blue.
Mom and dad so proud of you.
Something happen to your head.
Something come and kill you dead.”

As suddenly as it came, the glazed look leaves the faces of the children. They blink rapidly a few times and giggle nervously. The youngest child moans woefully and slowly collapses! Her eyes roll up in her head and her tiny body goes horribly still. The other children stare at the young girl in alarm as she dies.

A sudden rumbling is followed immediately by an explosion of dirt and gravel! When the dust clears, the child's body is gone.

The children race away screaming.

---

A group of children race in, shouting and playing a child's game involving a stuffed rat skin and paddles.

Suddenly, they all come to a halt! They drop the paddles, the rat skin falls to the ground.

A glazed look comes over the innocent faces of the children. Their jaws go slack....and they begin to chant.

“What's wrong with baby? She looks so still.
The white one comes and eats its fill
What's wrong with grandad? Screams and moans.
The white one comes and cracks his bones
What's wrong with momma, what's wrong with son?
The black one comes, eats everyone.”

As suddenly as it came, the glazed look leaves the faces of the. children. They blink rapidly a few times and giggle nervously.$RThe youngest child suddenly moans woefully and slowly collapses! Her eyes roll up in her head and her tiny body goes horribly still. The other children stare at the young girl in alarm as she dies.

A sudden rumbling is followed immediately by and explosion of dirt and gravel! When the dust clears, the child's body is gone.

The children race away screaming.

---

Other poems that had identical lead ins:


“A blade clean as new cuts a bough from a tree.
A pot that's shaped like the hive of a bee.
A head-healing herb joins a golden flower.
With the water of life to save the hour.”


“A new old tree, a virgin blade,
A liquid fire, a golden bloom,
A healing plant, a mighty vat,
And white hot heat to avoid your doom.”


“Down, down, down,
Under the ground,
Are bits of bone and muscle.
Down, down, down,
Under the ground,
Life and death must tussle.”


“Find a blade that's known no blood.
And cut the wood, soft and light.
Find the plant that heals the head.
Gather the blooms, bonny and bright.
Fetch the water that burns so nice.
Bring the vat to hold the soup.
Fire it all with the purest flame
to make the wand that saves the group.”


“Go find baby, go find gramp.
Down below where the dirt is damp.
The pretty flowers are fed by woes.
The gate of death is where the new life grows.”


“The momma say run, but they nowhere to go.
The knobbly hands they ain't gonna let you!
The poppa say hide, but where I don't know.
The knobbly hands find a way to get you!
Gramma's done gone, nobody know where.
The knobbly hands take her, I bet you!
Grampa's gone mad, but nobody care.
The knobbly hands!
The knobbly hands!
The knobbly hands!
The knobbly hands...find a way to get you!”


“Where can you go, what can you do?
Something out there and it's after you.
Nowhere to hide, nowhere to flee.
Something out there, just wait and see.
Don't help to pray, don't help to cry.
Something out there, we all gonna die.”


“Where do they go, the taken ones?
Away from the sun, away from the sun.
Where do they go, our sweetest fruit?
Find the root, find the root.
Where do they go, the old and slow?
Down below, down below.”


~Vanah

My goodness...

I wasn't around for that event, but had I been, I think I would have had trouble sleeping at night. The children running in and reciting those songs and such is just freakin' creepy!

♫ Arpelli ♫

Oh, I so wish I had been there for that.

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“Let the warriors clamor after gods of blood and thunder; love is hard, harder than steel and thrice as cruel... it is as inexorable as the tides, and life and death itself follow in its wake.”

- Jacqueline Carey, Kushiel's Chosen.