The air smelt like spring and mud, and the longer Pharrael kept his nose to the wind the more obvious the underlying scent of rotting meat became. Mercenaries of all races gathered at the crest of a hill, silent, wholly engaged in their own thoughts. Vaul’s Anvil stood together, awaiting the call of the horn to signal the arrival of the enemy. The Chracian made to usher his griffon closer to Meryt, but stopped when he noticed the Archmage at her side. Elhothyl didn’t so much sit upon his horse but lounge atop it. To anyone else his posture would not warrant a second glance. To Pharrael it reeked of leisurely indifference. Even the musk of his griffon’s oily wings couldn’t mask the smell. That smell. Like pineapple and ash.

What's up guys? I am seeing some very vicious comments. This website is intended (as far as I knew) to be a roleplay community where players shared their RP in mature, reasonable, polite, and respectful ways. This outburst of drama is neither good for the community nor helpful to resolving a situation. It needs to stop...now. If you have problems with each other, resolve them in a responsible manner in PMs, or find a mediator. Seriously, we are supposed to be the mature set of players.

Moruchtuil squated in the midst of a ruin scorched at least three months ago fingering a partially melted amulet.  He knew this amulet.  He knew this entire place or at least knew what it had once been.

He tiredly stood as his eyes scanned the area for Sealgaire, but the lion was not in sight.  A sigh escaped him.  The great lion had met his end in Talabecland due to a horde of undead.  That night had been a blur of insanity.  His hand wrapped tighter around the amulet and threw it as hard as he could away from him with an angry yell.

Masanair's thoughts wandered back and forth over the past and the present.  If he thought about it too hard, everything became a complicated but intriguing web.  He smirked knowing even the bad points had helped lead to the present.  The present was not all that bad, but things still lurked in the future.  Things that probably had ties in the past beyond his own past.  He would face them as they came and hopefully do so far better than some of his latest attempts.  Maybe love did fog the brain, but sobeit.  Fogged he would be on some points no matter how much it irritated his mother.  Actually that irritation added that extra over the top piece.

“I wish that Archmage would come back.”  Sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor, Niaris patiently combed the burrs our of Lia’s mane.

“Yes, that one,” she replied with a nod to the animal.  “He has hair the color of autumn leaves.  I saw him in the forest, you know.  But he was on the other side of the lake.  The sun was rising up all around him, and he was beautiful.”

She pouted.  “I know that!  I know that I said that I didn’t like Archmages!  But you’re always telling me that no two people are alike and so I guess I remembered for once.”

Intizara stood on the wall of Bloodfist Keep enjoying time to think and still relishing the recent defeat of Order who had thought they could take it.  Even if they had been rather disorganized at first, soon the keep had been upgraded and Order pushed off the inner door.  The air blowing over the mount where the keep sat brought the smell of lava and death.  She smiled as her eyes returned to the immediate area where bodies made a trail out of the keep.

"Ah, yes, definitely a good fight though you could have tried a little harder."

Her thoughts turned to other things as she listened to the sounds of both doors being repaired.

What could be more fun than hunting -- and being hunted by -- our favorite witch on Badlands?

Inspired by this post on the official forums which places a weekly bounty on a destro player, I though what if we set up something similar here against Teh Original RR80 Sieglinde?

http://social.bioware.com/forum/Server-Forums/Badlands/Target-of-the-week-4457778-1.html

Instead of dragging this out over a week, I thought we could do this in a single night.  We could pick a deserted, locked T4 zone (maybe that Island near Shining Way -- or, even better, the entire island + Shining Way fort) and hunt -- and be hunted by Sieglinde.

Destro Night today at 8:00pm EST to 11:00pm EST. I will be there, and I encourage everyone to come and rejuvenate it. Dione of Ordo Sylvanus told me that Direwolves is becoming active, which means we will have more people to play with.

Clynt Hartigen looked over the warcamp and he shook his head to dust of the High Pass snow.  Below him, down the hill, laid soldiers under his command.  People he'd never wanted to lead into battle yet had rallied to his side anyways.  Silently, he cursed Kerlov.  The damn Kislevite had tricked him into rejoining the fight.   He thought of his brother, William, who was ever-steadfast in the face of evil.  He thought of his brother's friends, Martigaine, the mercenary-turned-knight, and Ozorhaar, the Slayer who should have met his doom at William's killer.  Even in the face of open war, he thought of his nephew Mattius and his lover, Balvina, he'd only recently learned of.  Young people to protect.  Young people who would be not only the fut