Fri Mar 12 01:33:20 2004


At 5 o'clock PM, Day of Freedom, 25th of the Month of the Long Shadows
on the Theran calendar Sadreth perished, never to return.

Race:	half-drow
Class:	shapeshifter
Level:	48
Alignment:	Evil
Ethos:	Chaotic
Cabal:	None, None
Age:	89
Hours:	138

"Yes, father," the lion form spoke as he shifted. "It is I, your lost son!"

Pained, agonizing looks etched across the father's face as he remembered how he
was much stronger then to slay him with his own hands. He would not hesistate now.
The lands shall be rid of another mage. This one will be a proud trophy back to
display in the Village. Gripping his daggers tightly, he approached warily.

"Since you did spare me once, I shall repay the favor back to you. I will release
the Nightwalker and allow you to strike me. I will not even retaliate." The mage
confidently opened his robes and stuck out his chest towards his father.

Ten steps. Five. Three.

The veteran was about to under-hand his son when a sudden pain erupted in his skull.
He tried to fight off the unconsciousness but he felt himself slipping into oblivion.
The last words he heard was "I never promised that others would not strike you..."

***

A large group of Villagers gathered about a funeral pyre. The slain body of the
Veteran was laid there. He looked peaceful. His person will be remembered and his
spirit will soar with the Heroes and the Honored Dead. A fire was lit and the

pyre was pushed away from the shore. The river current picked it up and carried it
further downstream. A bard lifted his voice, singing a melancholic dirge as the
Village renewed their dedication to rid the lands of magick.

In a distant, a mage quietly watched the funeral. Turning his back towards the
glow of the evening sun, he walked into the creeping shadows.

Added Wed Feb 18 07:47:15 2004 at level 45:
The roar of a ferocious lion reverberated from the dark alley, followed by
agonizing screams as the claws ripped off chunks of flesh from the storm giant
warrior. His iron hands could only block so much and his large frame was not
dodge another attack but failed. Another cry emerged from his mouth as his guts
spilled forth, the clawing strikes coming from everywhere.

The veteran half-breed rager ran towards the sound of battle, his heart caught in
his mouth. He had seen the fearsome attacks of a magically transformed shifter,
the end sight was usually the victim with fatal raking wounds all over. And this
less experienced warrior was no match for the elder shifter. Another scream
resounded, followed by a gurgling sound of choked blood this time.

Turning into the alley, he saw a yellow-maned lion, which stood over the fallen
corpse of the giant warrior, swishing its tail. A low growl emerged from his lips
as he pulled out his daggers, and stirred his blood into a battle frenzy. The claw
marks on the corpse showed two attacks- one of the lion, the other a Nightwalker.

Scions! He called forth resistance to magick and hardened his skin against any
physical blows. He charged forward with a battle cry, only to slow to a stop as he
recognized the lion. Something in those eyes looked familiar many years ago.

His son - Sadreth.

I've never played Scion or Shifter in my CF life, so I thought I'll kill two birds with one stone. Verdict :

Scions - Fantastic concept, the RP possibilities and the powers. I don't know why people are complaining about lack of vision and direction. Sheesh.
Shifter - Boring. Very little communication possible. Having good forms make you damn happy. But everyone is so anxious to reach the new form level. Makes it even more boring.

I took the offense and defense path, got lion (very nice) and hare (very nice). Able to tank in front and dish out damage if not tanking. Killed a couple of people to with the offense forms.

Explored a lot and had exp holes after holes. Never bothered about reaching hero and travelled a lot of places, mapping them out. Found a good number of protections and secrets too! CF is really good with its areas and stories. Kudos to you Imms.

Valg : Your name strikes fear within the Chasm. No one dares mention your name. And that's good. Was trying to seek you too. Too bad our times don't meet.

Mekantos : Blood bastard, wanted to battle you right there for kicking me out. In person, I wanted to strangle the player behind; well, you played your role out as a dark knight for me to feel such. I hope you person is not that scheming and bastardly. :P

Etarekoth : Good job, boss. I think I deserve everything coming, though I felt kicking me out for the 'petty' issue is not right. Anyway, iron leadership and appearances will make Scions into a fearsome cabal. My respect and compliments to you. You are also a bloody bastard.

Side note : Wished the Imms can make Shifter class talk. It's hard to communicate and such. Also social and emotes are lacking which makes it even harder.

I enjoyed gaining levels with you back in Janurary, even
though it would usually go like this:
Spend a lot of time getting a third...go to a ranking place,
kill the first creature...and then either you or me would say
'Actually, I am leaving now'.

After you got kicked out, our interaction dwindled.
Basically, Drokk considered you a failure and thus not
worth wasting time on. Of course, I could tell that you were
upset about some things, but I was unable to offer comfort.
At least I can do it here. I am glad you had fun.

Good luck with whatever you do next.

I am glad that you enjoyed the cabal, and am sorry (as a person, not
as Mek) for what transpired. I hope you give it a try again in a form
that suits you better than that of a shapeshifter.


Mekantos : Blood bastard, wanted to battle you right there for kicking me out. In person, I wanted to strangle the player behind; well, you played your role out as a dark knight for me to feel such. I hope you person is not that scheming and bastardly.


Trust me I know how a person feels after something like that, because
it has happened to me at least a couple of times in the distant past.
All I can say (again) is that you should give it a whirl again. And
think of it this way: now you know what not to do. :P

Good luck and all that.

-Mek

The defiant eyes of the half-breed transfixed his stare at the warrior with the
bloody sword. There was not a trace of regret in those eyes as both father and
son faced off with each other. Then his father broke the silence as he lifted
the sword and thrust it into the ground, shaking his head in disbelief.

Cursing under his breath, his father spoke as he walked away, "Begone, cursed
creature! I never want to see you again. You have sold yourself to the dark
forces that was never meant for mortal use. I will slay you with my own hands
if I were to ever see you again!" Yes, his father's weakness to slay his son.

Sadreth smirked, anticipating that his father's dreams were shattered, but was
too weak to slay his own son. It would be his success and his father's downfall.
Such was a price to pay for power and knowledge. He had no love for his father
anymore. Something a warrior like his father will never know. True power comes
not only from the material and magick realms, but from various planes; the
negative planes especially. And with such creatures that he sealed his pact with
them - power and knowledge beyond human understanding, while he will be a tool
for their purposes. These mortals who have such a desire will be know as a Scion
of the Eternal Night.

The price to pay was his father's rejection and a cut-off ear, which laid on
the ground before his knees. Gathering his robes about, Sadreth smiled
wickedly, his quest for power has begun.

The Voice whispered to him, beckoning and tempting. He couldn't shrug it off,
for each word revealed the secrets of his heart - power, knowledge and success.
But he will have to tread up the magical realms, something that his father has
forbidden him to dwell upon, or even speak about it.

But Sadreth knew there was power behind the Voice, words that stirred up his
person to stretch beyond just natural and physical self. The Voice promised
him all that he had hoped for, just give his soul to Him. Followed which the
gift of magic will be imparted and Sadreth will be able to draw forth the words
to enhance his being and change into animals that exceeds mortal strength.

Being a failure with his physical and weapon skills in the sight of his father,
Sadreth took the step and embraced the Voice. A newfound power filled him and
for once, he felt complete and whole. The excitement increased his hunger even
more as magick surged through his body, mind and spirit. He was fascinated and
thrilled as he watched his jaw twist and shape into fangs, a forked tongue
flicking out from his mouth like a serpent.

It has begun. Now to face his father....

"Lift it higher," his father guided. "Lest you want a spilt head. Then sweep
it to your right to parry it away. Now approach closely and stab under the
ribs with the other dagger." The veteran rager swore briefly as he watched his
son make the same mistake again. "Let's do it again!"

Sadreth Yarram, the son of a veteran rager, was no push over. He can hold a
dagger well, but not other kinds of weapons. Though he was light-footed and
quick to understand the strategies of battle, he was always lacking in physical
fighting finesse. He just was not cut to be a warrior. And this disturbed his
father, who hoped his legacy will continue with his son. The effeminate side
of his son was a disgrace too.

Yet he believed his son will be of someone great, for he sensed a stirring of
ambition and desire to succeed.