Posted by Elderyn on December 31, 2000 at 11:14:00:
Well I guess it's rather predictable to delete after being unempowered (wink Pico) but in reality, I was growing bored with the whole affair anyway. I know it's usually noteable charecters that post their goodbyes, but dammit, to me, I'm noteable. Well anyway, long story short, I always had trouble with the utterly chaotic type of roleplay, and was having serious concerns at the begining. Toward the end I had thought I was getting the hang of it, but I guess not. It was a fun 3 weeks. Not too shabby for a second charecter, I suppose. To Pico...thank you for empowering me, it made my day. I figure not many will read this, but here's my description/role, I did put some effort into them. Your description is: at the locked gates, making a very un-Gnomish splatter. Chuckeling to Added Tue Dec 19 00:11:12 2000 at level 35: Added Wed Dec 20 11:28:51 2000 at level 38:
Ulgurmish...hero for me will you?
Hegobi...you taught me a lot, thank you.
Aptke...fellow guildmate, keep the guild alive.
Lreeia...teach the rest of those ragers how to run.
Hallien...you wouldn't have killed me if I didn't let you.
Assorted ragers...it was fun, really it was, you thickheaded saps :)
A diminutive figure is before you, shorter even than the blades of
many a sword. The top of his head is bare, his mottled, rich brown
skin open to the air. A circlet of frosty-white and wirey hair
fringes his bald scalp, and then extends down into a full beard of
the same color. His ears, large almost to the point of being
comical, are nestled between beard and the fleeting remnants of a
headful of hair you can hardly imagine ever existed. A nose of
proportion comparable in size to his ears sits in the center of his
gnomish face, dominating all surrounding features. A pair of small,
dark eyes are sunken deep within their sockets, as if in hasty
retreat from the massive neighboring nose and bushy white eyebrows
above. If any part of this creature could be described as normal, it
would be the mouth. In perfect proportion to his petite body, it
seems out of place amongst his other more outlandish features. The
gnome appears to have an affinity for robes, long and flowing. The
one he wears at the moment is easily two sizes too large, and trails
several feet behind him. Well-worn, stains dot its entire length,
many of questionable origins. There seems to be something vaguely
holy about this creature.
Your role is:
Added Sun Dec 10 16:20:26 2000 at level 2:
A surface Gnome, Elderyn was born to a well-to-do gnomish family in a
well-to-do Gnomish community with well-to-do Gnomish principles. For
the first sixty-two years of his life, Elderyn played the part of a
well-to-do young gnome. He read all the classical literture, studied
in the great library, wore very Gnomish spectacles, and kept an
inkpot handy at all times. And then, one day, Elderyn ran accross a
book he liked. It was not a book many other gnomes liked. It wasn't
classic, it wasn't well-to-do, and it certainly wasn't Gnomish in the
least. It was entitled "Natural Disorder", and its very title
inspired sniffs of contempt from the well-to-do Gnomish community.
But Elderyn read it. And he read it again. And soon, he began telling
others of it. Elderyn was laughed at, to begin with. And then he was
simply ignored, and when he persisted, found himself locked out of
the well-to-do Gnomish community that had been his life for sixty-two
years. Elderyn did not despair, however. He found himself a large
robe (Robes were just the sort of thing a natural and disorderly
Gnome would be proud of, he thought. The larger the better, in his
mind.) and tucked his pilfered library copy of 'Natural Disorder' in
it. Then, he took his spectacles, put them on the ground, and stepped
on them. (After several tries...he really did need them.)
Finding his trusty inkpot, he took one last look at it, and threw it
[Hit Return to continue]
himself and feeling his transformation complete, he wandered about in
a most chaotic fashion, sleeping under shrubbery and reading his book
by moonlight. After years of wanderings (four, to be precise) Elderyn
found himself squat in the middle of a circle of stones, being glared
at by a wizened old man. The man took one glance at Elderyn, the
fashionably large robe, the obvious need for spectacles, and the
title of the book peeking out of the robe, and ushered him toward the
trees, all the while muttering about the strangest new Druids.
Time has passed, and the once-young gnome has grown older, and more importantly, less niave.
The gnome has seen much, made friends, and more importantly, made enemies. Those who would
desecrate the forest, and attempt to bring order where it has no place. Elderyn decided he
didn't much care for that. And so he gathered his robe about him and set out to see what
could be done about it, with the help of his Sylvan friends and Druid acquaintances.
Though no longer the hesitant and insecure Gnome he once was, Elderyn's speech patterns
of the past have still not faded, and remain as perhaps that last vestiges of the Gnome
he once was, long ago.