PhilDaBurn

I've hesitated to post anything because most of my testing, I've done at home and I have a Vista machine there with an Intel vid card. At work, I also have an Intel vid card (82865G) but the machine is running Windows 2000. On both machines, if I try to create a new character, short of boosting the gamma up to 3.00 and allowing fog to be rendered, very little can be seen from any direction with or without the isometric view setting. No character detail can be seen: color, style of hair, skin, clothing etc. I hadn't seen anyone mention this specific location problem, so thought it might be worth mentioning. My errorlog file was quite long and had a lot of repeated lines of information in them, but most were like the first line of this - the only difference being the particular "node": PhilDaBurn...

Well, now that the Frying Pan book is in-game, I wonder if some Eye Candy would be developed so that when someone successfully hits someone else with the pan, a circle of stars and birds could appear over their head.

Ent, Will your fix take care of the inability to place newly harvested gypsum into storage? When I tried, I got this message: "You cannot deposite that item in this storage!".

Congratulations, Terrorgrim! Good work on a good story... Looking forward to seeing more... Phil...

Here are a couple more. In this quote... ...change "it's" to "its" and insert a comma after "inhabitants". Happy to help, Roja.

Hi, Terrorgrim. Roja has read your story and she asked me to go through it and offer edits. I've copied and pasted your story below and will change words (e.g. Tarsenguard to Tarsengaard) here and there, grammar, punctuation, etc. You've got a well-written story here. I enjoyed reading it and doing a little touch-up on it. Fall of the Forest 1 Before Tirnwood and before the Great War, the land was at peace. The children of the gods - humans, elves and dwarves - all lived in harmony. The curse of Mortos had yet to touch them and Irilion was but a fairytale to be told to children by the fire. It was during this time that the Forest of the Spring came into being. It began with the planting of a single acorn, a thing most precious to the wandering elf who carried it. She was still young by elf years. Born in Tarsengaard, she had grown weary of her life there and her curiosity had taken her over the border, toward the Elavro Mountains. Carefully, the young Elf turned the soil and planted her treasure at the heart of the small hole she’d dug. With love, she gently patted the earth until the seed was buried. It was with such love, this simple act of kindness, of creation, that it caught the attention of the gods; two in particular, Aluwen the goddess of protection and Mortos the god of Attack, or war. Aluwen, who’d watched intently the Elf and her actions, blessed the acorn. She herself gave it health, protection and a blessing as such that when the small elf once again returned, the area was now a lush, green forest. This was the birth of the Forest of the Spring. For hundreds of years it stayed under Aluwen’s protection for the goddess loved Draia, the lush greenery and the colourful fruits it provided to its children, and she loved above all else the elves, for the simple understanding of the world they lived in. Over time, the elves migrated from Tarsengaard, which was becoming increasingly overrun by man and his stone structures, and they moved into the forest. They pledged their allegiance to Aluwen and their magical haven, and they lived in harmony, taking an oath never to let the forest come to harm. But all this time, Mortos had been watching intently. From his temple he’d seen all that had taken place, and, not wanting to risk open-war on Aluwen's blessed land, he’d been forced to watch in disgust at the actions of the young elf. The world is too peaceful, he thought to himself. Already the children are far too blessed! Over time, the wood-elves, or the druids, as they became known, built a temple in tribute to Aluwen. It was a simple enough structure, for they still held true to their pact with the goddess, a hut of sorts, with crude carvings of dragons to guard its entrance from troublemakers and naysayers. They built homes in the very treetops and lived their lives in perfect union with the forest, they gave it their protection, and the forest returned the favour, blessing them with rich crops, cattle to farm. It was as close to utopia as they had been. 2 Time passed, generations were born and generations passed over. Soon the origin of the forest was also lost under the deep blanket of time. It was at this time that an Elven woman, Adnama, a direct descendant of the founder, took leadership within the community. She too valued nature, but she also felt jealousy: she watched as the cities of men grew, great towns and cities were founded. Huge stone structures of majesty and power and pride were built. Tirnwood forest, founded by an outcast of their very own, had grown into a community and with it villages had also begun to show. Adnama began to feel that their temple, their forest dwelling, was fast becoming inadequate. This was a weakness soon to be exploited... It was at this time that Mortos decided to intervene. All these long years he’d kept watch over the Forest of the Spring, suffered the laughter and song, suffered also the worship and praise given to Aluwen for her continuous protection. Trapped by his own fear of all-out war with the gods, Mortos had no desire to openly interfere, or harm. But if he could possess one with his essence, he could definitely influence…. It was a young man whom Mortos chose to possess, Adnama's friend from Tirnwood named Celic. He appeared to her one day in the mountains to ‘seek her council’. He told her that the crop at Tirnwood had failed that year and that a local priest had said it was a curse wrought from the Goddess Aluwen. “A curse?” Adnama had replied in shock. “Aluwen does not curse, she blesses, she protects all Draia’s children!” “I think not my lady,” ‘Celic’ had replied. “There is but enough left from last season to see them to mid-winter. I fear many will die.” Adnama was troubled deeply by this news, her beloved goddess Aluwen was ready to kill the Tirnwood inhabitants? For this she would not stand. “The only solution I can see is to bow to her in worship Adnama,” the man went on. “That we already do Celic. We have a temple…” “I mean no disrespect, but that is not a temple. It is a mud hut.” Adnama returned to her beloved forest troubled, failing to notice that her ‘friend’ looked very content as she left…. 3 At the next council meeting within the Forest of the Spring, Adnama brought to their attention all she had learned and it equally troubled them all. The ‘mud hut’ remark was also brought to their attention, along with a plan drawn up by Adnama. Already a keen crafter and manufacturer of clothes and tools, she planned to build a grand temple of stone with which to honour her goddess, lest the same fate should befall them, and with it, a proud stone town among the trees to call their own. “But we have no room! How can we build such a monument?” came the troubled remarks of one individual. It was decided then that some of the trees should be removed to make way for the new city, and work began immediately. Trees were felled here and there: stone was brought in from all over the continent as the Druids laboured tirelessly in an effort to complete their new project. And all the while Mortos watched from his prison, and he was pleased. The project was into its second year when the change was first noticed. One of the trees of the forest was bare. The discovery, made by an elven child, terrified him. The leaves were of red and brown, and were scattered at the foot of the tree. The council saw this as a sign that their efforts were too slow, and so they hastened. At the end of the second year, with the project nearly completed, winter came. Now you, the reader, may think this no strange thing. But to the druids, the sacred wood-elves of the forest, it was something new. Never in the history of the Forest of the Spring had there been a winter, nor had there ever been ice, or snow. Fruit no longer grew, the animals took shelter, and the forest changed. Spring eventually did return to the forest, and by the time it did, it was done. A proud monument to Aluwen stood in the forest, a temple taller than any before. Flanked by Dragons, it stood as an exquisite example of elven craftsmanship. The town around it, white stone buildings, shimmered in the new found sunlight and the council members were pleased. This shall please Aluwen, Adnama thought, looking upon the majesty of her temple, but it did not. Summer never came to the forest that year. After but a few weeks of spring, the leaves of the trees browned and curled once again. Again the paths were littered with dead things. Dead nature. Aluwen had watched, all this while, as her followers had desperately scrabbled around toppling trees to make way for bulky and vain visions of their own making. Her love for the elves, her great passion for their well-being, had died, and with it, so too had the forest. Some fled. They saw the doom that they had blindly wrought on themselves and panicked. They spread to all the far reaches of the continent to start anew, without the protection of their goddess, naked for the first time. Adnama and a handful of others had stayed. Adnama herself had always been steadfast. She was, after all, their leader and she was determined to put things right. Packing a small bag of belongings, she headed for Tirnwood in search of Celic, her friend. Seeing this angered Mortos anew. His plan had worked perfectly, with one exception: the hope that was left in those that remained. In anger, he commanded upon them legions of his worst reckonings, and so Orcs and Goblins appeared in the forest. They swarmed over the mountains like ants on a hill. Coming from every direction they burned and pillaged, and left none alive that they met along their way. The screams, it is said, could be heard further than the flames could be seen in the sky. All around, the buildings burned and crumbled. The one curiosity, Mortos thought, was that still the dead trees remained…. Adnama returned unsuccessful to her home in the hope at least that some would be there to greet her. The vision she came upon instead nearly drove her to madness. Crying and shaking, she cursed Aluwen, and she now cursed Mortos. Having met with her friend, he’d told her of what had taken place, how he'd felt the very essence of Mortos overrun him like a parasite. And she’d known then that she’d been utterly deceived, to the cost of her people. Originally she intended only to stay long enough to bury her kin, but after calming, she made with herself an inner peace. What was done was done. She, now, was all that remained. So why leave? Instead with neither hope nor love left in her, Adnama sentenced herself to a long and lonely life as the sole inhabitant of the forest, the dead forest, no longer the Forest of the Spring, now and always, the Forest of the Fall.

Here's another fun one.

Found another rock in Aeth Aelfin. Here's a picture and coords.

Beorn, Very nice story. It's easy to get caught up in the chronology of it - it flows very naturally. You've got some punctuation issues that are easy to fix and some verb tense agreement to straighten out that will polish up your story very nicely. I enjoyed reading your story - I got caught up in the tense emotions. Thanks, PhilDaBurn

Nice job, Selyob. Very interesting story. I look forward to reading more of your work. Phil...

Conavar, Please accept my apologies for taking a few too many liberties with your story. In your original posting, you wrote, "If he believed in the Gods he would have prayed to them now, in this moment of stillness and reflection, but any faith he once had was lost, snatched from him like a toy from a child." Not being the author of these words, I did not possess your insight. As I read your words, I got stuck here thinking if he still believed, *what* would he have prayed to them about? Since the rain decreased to a mist, I assumed you meant that he would have thanked them for an improvement in the weather and I changed your words to this: "If he still believed in the Gods, he would have prayed to them now, thanking them for this moment of stillness and reflection, but any faith he once had was lost, stolen from him like a toy from a child." You knew, though, that what he really would have thanked them for was this opportunity to face death against these outlaws. But, the reader has, at this point in your story, no knowledge of the outlaws. So, perhaps a foreshadowing of the outlaws could be inserted here to contrast the peacefulness of the moment against the imminent violence that is implied in the story later. How would you insert that? The outlaws in your story are clearly *a* main thread. Conavar's personal crisis - causing him to foresake the gods - is surely more powerful and because of that power, more interesting. In a few short paragraphs, you have laid out the entire life of a man and we, the readers, share his ups and downs as we see those same thoughts and feelings in ourselves. Also, it is clear that at the end of your story, Conavar's story is not finished. We readers do not get to see the outcome of the battle. We do not know if Conavar ever comes to grips with his god crisis and finally allows the memory of Amy to rest in peace. Could the tragedy of her illness and death have been greater? Certainly - especially if at the time of her death she had been pregnant - then the loss is doubled as is the grief. From other comments you've written since I first posted, I get the feeling that you've given up on this story. I hope that is not the case. You've got talent and I would like to see more. Please don't give up on the Conavar story. Regards, PhilDaBurn

Hi Conavar - Take a look at these changes and see if it flows a little better. ----------------------------------- Conavar sat upon a log. The bark of the tree he leant against felt rough on his back. The rain had all but stopped fading to just a faint mist giving the forest around him a glistening sheen. If he still believed in the Gods, he would have prayed to them now, thanking them for this moment of stillness and reflection, but any faith he once had was lost, stolen from him like a toy from a child. Instead, his mind raced back in time, before the years of training his body and soul, before the sadness and despair - back to the only time he had been truly happy, back to the face of Amy. He had been but a simple farmer then, content tending his crops in the summer and sharing stories and jokes with neighbours around the tavern fire each winter. But on a warm sunny day, his life had changed completely. During the mid-summer festival he had been drawn to her, standing out from the crowd like a shining beacon of light, more beautiful than the sun upon a winter's morning. With her long, dark hair framing her pale elfin face, they had danced that night away under the summer’s moon. Within a month they were married. They were so in love and happy. Within a year, she was dead - taken from him by a plague that had ravaged the entire countryside. "She is in God's care now," the priest had said as he cast the flaming torch upon her pyre. Conavar had tried to burst through the crowd, to sweep her frail form from the flames, but friends and neighbours, recognizing his grief, held him back. And in that moment, his faith had left him. “IN GOD'S CARE... IF THE GODS CARED SHE WOULD STILL BE BY MY SIDE!" he screamed and in so doing, carved those words forever into his memory. The cry of a distant wolf brought him back to the present. His tears were lost once more among the falling rain drops covering his face. Conavar tossed a branch upon the fire, casting a golden glow among the darkened trees. They would be here soon, he knew. The fire would attract them like moths to a flame. Who they were he did not know, but they had trailed him ever since he had entered the forest that very morning. They were no woodsmen or elves, for he had spotted them easily between the trees. He smiled wryly. More than likely, they were wolves heads - outlaws - looking for a quick kill and easy gold. While not the strongest of his peers, Conavar had been duty bound as a member of the Dragon Council to train both his body and mind in martial skills. Confident in his abilities, he knew they would not find him the easy mark they craved. But, time was short and he needed to prepare. He laid his staff beside him within easy reach - its knarled wood darkened by time and use, so much power within something so simple. He pulled open his cloak, and reached into its many hidden pockets. Removing two velvet pouches - one white, one black - he laid them upon separate knees. Opening the strings on the white pouch he removed five of its contents. Five pebble-sized stones that shone with the colours and brightness of a rainbow. As they lay upon his palm, he felt their calming influence radiate up his arm and over his body. From the second pouch, he removed three stones; dark and as black as night they were. While the other stones had calmed him, these felt like leeches upon his hand - moving, searching, trying to drain his body and spirit. He cupped his hands together letting the eight stones mingle and touch. Eyes closed he recited the ancient spell. "Ath Ether Lith Arien". He felt the stones grow warm upon his flesh. "Dagor Caran El-Breth". The heat grew stronger, burning his palms and threatening to break his concentration, but he knew the magic needed his pain. His training fared him well and strengthened his mind. "Firin-Coire Doreth-Uial". Upon the final word, the pain suddenly flared then stopped altogether. He opened his hands. Where once eight stones had been, now there was only one, a swirling mass of lightness and dark, a writhing rainbow and blackness. He clenched his fist tightly over the stone...... He was ready! -------------------------------------- What a great short story - reminiscent of the lady and the tiger - which door will he choose? In your story, what happened next? what is this stone? what does it do? what were the original stones? All great questions that come to the reader's mind and part of what makes this story so very interesting. Well done. I've taken a few liberties with your original text hoping to make it easier to read. I hope you like the suggestions.

From Palon Vertas to Thelinor - I got this, but could not make it happen again. [06:58:18] Welcome to Thelinor! [06:58:19] Bad object: ./3dobjects/structures/watchtower1.e3d . Two or more materials with the same texture name! [06:58:19] Bad object: ./3dobjects/structures/watchtower1.e3d . Two or more materials with the same texture name! [06:58:30] Warning! You just entered a PKing map! This means other players can attack you! [06:58:40] Welcome to Palon Vertas! [06:58:46] Welcome to Thelinor! [06:58:48] Warning! You just entered a PKing map! This means other players can attack you! similar thing happened last night when using the ship from NRM to Thelinor. [00:05:19] Welcome to Thelinor! [00:05:19] Bad object: ./3dobjects/structures/watchtower1.e3d . Two or more materials with the same texture name! [00:05:19] Bad object: ./3dobjects/structures/watchtower1.e3d . Two or more materials with the same texture name! [00:06:17] Welcome to North Redmoon Island! [00:06:47] Welcome to Idaloran, hope you had a nice voyage aboard the Rickshaw! [00:07:05] Welcome to North Redmoon! [00:07:34] Welcome to Thelinor! [00:09:29] Welcome to Zirakinbar! PhilDaBurn... Additional occurance. Entered a tent at 104,336. Got this as I exited the tent: [07:05:29] Beehive [07:05:31] You need to wear a Leather Gloves in order to harvest this item! [07:06:11] Bad object: ./3dobjects/structures/watchtower1.e3d . Two or more materials with the same texture name! [07:06:11] Bad object: ./3dobjects/structures/watchtower1.e3d . Two or more materials with the same texture name! [07:06:12] Warning! You just entered a PKing map! This means other players can attack you! It did not reoccur when I entered and exited the tent at 125,336.

Irsis: 130,137 / 130,136 and others - able to walk through buildings. Standing at 130,136, I can click on 135,122 and my path walks me through the building. (I'm hoping this is the kind of thing you're looking for?) PhilDaBurn... Edited by Roja: You're going to have to post some screenshots, because from what I see you cannot walk through buildings at these points.

I, PhilDaBurn, have read, understand, and agree to follow the above terms of the Eternal Lands Story and Quest Writers Agreement.

If I may suggest additional corrections?

In the post found here: http://www.eternal-lands.com/manufacture.htm There are 2 recipes with the title of "Potion of Extra Mana". I'm wondering if one is titled incorrectly? If so, what should the titles be? Any help would be appreciated.