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Forum Name Gameplay
Topic subjectStory Continuity issue?
Topic URLhttps://forums.carrionfields.com/dcboard.php?az=show_topic&forum=6&topic_id=28204
28204, Story Continuity issue?
Posted by Odrirg on Wed 31-Dec-69 07:00 PM
From a pbf I just read...recent...

Sat Jun 27 08:16:06 2009 by 'Thror' at level 40 (96 hrs):
Visited by the demon-ghost of Minalcar. Tricked into showing the Demon the Forge of Thror (Secrets beneath the Mountain). The demon had his way with characters within. Pinned it on Quas.





Uh....way back when I was sehvoor, and There were two commanders of the village at once (felar war, and bard)....

We redeemed Minalcar's soul from hell, for all the mage killing he did he deserved redeeming.

I remember this vividly.....

did you forget he was released from Hell and is no longer a demon?
28205, Felar ASSASSIN, not warrior.
Posted by Susubienko on Wed 31-Dec-69 07:00 PM
That was Loborguz, and Neria was the bard. I was on a 2 week vacation to Ireland and Scotland just when the war was on so Thror made a second commander so the village wouldn't suffer from no leadership during a war. War with Sylvan.
28206, RE: Felar ASSASSIN, not warrior.
Posted by Grobbak on Wed 31-Dec-69 07:00 PM
Nerylana...

For those who couldn't enjoy it the first time around:

l nerylana
Dark drapings of quiet nobility adorn this little girl of court.
Silently, crimson red locks, like those poets only dare
whisper about, creep from her hood. They contrast piercing
emerald pools, which lie in tranquility aside a cutish up-
turned nose. Lips spark, like steel and flint, and add luster to
crimson crime.

Her neckline gives way to two mounds, the only two
philosopher's stones worth speaking about. The bestiaries
of the ancients have left them out. Why enumerate
unicorns and elves and ignore these luscious buns of renown?
Each nearly fall from her blouse, held back by only a single
button you swear will burst with the slightest heave.

Sleek and taut, her milky white skin lies supple and inviting,
under the barely concealing garb of well-woven silk. Cut at
the halter, her soft belly is exposed, and seemingly absorbs
not only the darkness, but also many of the eyes of those
men around her. Careening flesh climbs and peaks atop the
mount of her hips then descends to that forbidden valley of
her inner thighs. Fresh and familiar to none, her legs lead to
her bare, yet oddly attractive feet.