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Hello friends, and Merry Christmas to you.
I'm sorry that I haven't been around at all for the last couple of months. I really miss it.
You see, I'm currently without a full-time supply of bulk orders in real life, and I'm having to take odd jobs wherever I can.
All being well, I should have something permanent by the end of January, but until then, every spare moment is going on putting food on the table.
I hope you all have a very happy time during this festive season, and I'll drop in if I can!

-Blind Otto

Hail, friends!

On Wednesday, at 3 pm EST / 8 pm GMT, you are invited to come along to the new NEW (but not the newest NEW) guild hall, and celebrate the renewal of NEW!
Yes, there might be fights. Yes, there will be cake and drinks! Yes, you should come in your most basic, "I don't care if I lose it" suit.
But if you can, come! It's much more fun than that thing that some of you celebrate EVERY year! Surely that one's grown old by now?

If not, have fun anyway!

[NEW] holds a special place in many of our hearts, as does Shalimar.
I have good news and bad news.

The bad news is, it seems Shalimar has left the [NEW] guild. This has caused a shift in leadership to a recently returned trainee called Magical.
Therein ends the bad news.

The good news:
I have pulled my old co-leader account out of mothballs. Magical has made him an emissary.
So, NEW can live again, theoretically.

As you know, I do not have a ton of time on my hand, and I am not saying that I am running NEW. I will leave it to Magical to decide what she wants to do with it.
BUT, there is hope. This is day one. And NEW still lives, even if it is on life support.

When this contest was announced, House Serpent offered to aid any who requested it.
In response to such a request, we will now throw the full strength of our arms (quiet, you!) behind the efforts of House Silvanus.

As our watchwords are Truth, Courage and Honor, I regret we will be of little use in the Shady Behaviour department, but Mithras works in mysterious ways. We shall see. At least, you will. I tend to bump into things.

I'm a huge fan of the Classic Client. Over the years, I've tried others. The only good things I felt 3rd Dawn's client had going for it were the new emotes, KR was a step in the right direction, but didn't have the dev support needed, and EC still feels a bit... alien.

But then I came across an article from the middle of last year. You may have seen it - I certainly hadn't. It's a sandbox, the person building it is purely doing it for a sense of achievement and a love of UO. It's not playable. But, it got me wondering what UO could look like with a pair of VR goggles on, and a rebuilt-for-purpose Britannia. Have a look. You won't ask for those few minutes of your life back, I promise.

Click here, note who is singing its praises, and then scroll down to the video.

I do not know who the extremely kind person was who left some valuable paperwork on my stairs, but thank you very, very much, whoever it was.
You are very kind, and a good friend!

[What you need to know:]

As I know several of ye wisely shun Stratics, and thereby avoid a regular nasty rash, I thought I would bring your attention to the piece below.
Fear not - I have washed it before nailing it to the noticeboard!

Note: By the 1st, UK clocks will have gone ahead one hour. It may be April 1st, but fool me once, blah blah blah. Keep an eye on the town criers. On with the show![/i​]

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The cart lay on its side, goods were strewn all over the track, and the horses had bolted. She could still hear the protests of her father, as they carried him unceremoniously through the trees: “Help! Put me down you brutes! This isn’t funny! Say, did you hear this one? An orc, an ettin and a troglodyte walk into a tavern, and â€" Ow! Stop hitting me! I am the royal jester, I’ll have you know! Put me down!”.

Glancing around the wreckage, she saw a small pouch with reagents spilling from it, and grabbed it. Running after her father’s kidnappers, she tried desperately to remember the words to a spell â€" any spell. Waving a hand desperately in the direction of her father’s loud complaints, she started to cast:

“In Bet Flam” she yelled. The smallest wisp of flame she’d ever seen shot through the trees and fizzled out in the air. She groaned and tried desperately to remember the words her teacher had tried to impart to her, just before she had accidentally turned his robe into a flock of tiny blade spirits. The healers said he would be back to normal in a year or so, and they said scars were a sign of character, didn’t they? In that case, he would have legendary character.

“In Uus Por!” she shouted, hoping to make them turn around and bring her father back. Instead, she was unceremoniously hauled skywards. As she narrowly missed a passing gargoyle, she caught a brief glimpse of where the vile band were heading, and then her neophyte spells flung her towards a nearby farm.

She staggered to her feet, covered in mashed pumpkins. A farmer who had come to see what had happened to his crop took one look at her, turned and fled. “Tis a fruit elemental! Run for yer lives! Aaargh! Aaaaaaaggghhh!! Argh!”

She sighed deeply and squelched towards the main road. Whoever would rescue her poor father now?



What you need to know:

• Start time is 10 pm UK. That should be 5 pm EST unless Hawkwind’s still messing with time. A pox on folks who mess with clocks.
• We will meet at the EM Hall near the Britain Moongate.
• Gates to the EM Hall will be provided in a variety of places.
• All are welcome. Really. I wouldn’t lie about a thing like that.
• Most of this will be outside the guard zone. Bank all valuables, or leave them at home.
• It IS April 1st. But yes, there is an event. Announcing one and not holding it would be a terrible April Fool’s joke.
• Fruit elementals are not a thing. Give it time, they probably will be.

With gratitude to Lady Hoffs for offering to change the date of the monthly auction, so more people could join in.

So, there ye have it. The original can be found here

"Fruit Elementals"   Please, no. The jokes that would inspire are certainly low-hanging... curses, too late!

My cooking skill is still in the 30's, but here's a cake.

[Bad List.]

ail friends! Many of you will remember a time on Siege when the bards, the wordsmiths, the scribes, and the occasional drunk with much to say, would gather together. My earliest memory of this was at the tavern in Wintermoor. It would move from town to town, but eventually found a permanent home in the Golden Unicorn of Wispwood Shire. Sadly, the Unicorn fell and passed into history some time ago, but last night, several of us gathered to prove that anything can be resurrected on Siege if there's a will! Last night, at The Tortured Elf, with Lady Hoffs as our almost-gracious host, tales and jokes were told, words were rhymed, ale was drunk, snowballs and pies were thrown, and a good time was had by all! And so, without further ado, here are the works that were presented!

t took place many years ago on Siege, and for want of a better title I shall call it "The Merchant of Vesper". It concerns a rich merchant who lived North of Vesper, not far from Windermere Wood. One day the merchant summoned his chief servant and instructed him to travel into Vesper and procure some stores. The servant readied the two sturdiest packhorses and duly made his way to the market. In those days, the Vesper marketplace was situated on the mainland just to the West of the city, near where the Ironwood Inn and the Governor office now stand. After spending some time gathering the provisions,the servant felt himself knocked from behind. Upon turning around he beheld the cowled, skeletal figure of Death, with its boney arms raised menacingly above its head. Dropping all that he had, and knocking down several stalls in his panic, the servant ran madly through the islands of Vesper and thence into the woods. At length, he arrived back at the Merchant's house where he collapsed exhausted at the owner's feet. When he had recovered sufficient energy, he raised his head to speak. "Master, Master," he pleaded, "Whilst in the market I was attacked by Death himself! I beg that you lend me your fastest charger so I may ride far away to Trinsic this night, and there take refuge with my cousin." The merchant, a shrewd judge of character, looked into his servant's eyes and discerned the veracity therein. And being a kindly soul, he did indeed give him the horse, with instructions that he should ride henceforth and return in three days' time. Pausing only to fill a small bag of supplies, the servant climbed upon the steed and raced away to Trinsic via Minoc and Britain. Once the servant had fled, the merchant saddled another horse and traveled into Vesper himself. Upon his arrival at the marketplace, the packhorses and goods were returned to him, for he was well known and respected throughout the area. Whilst loading the animals, in the distance he descried the dark-robed form of Death. Filled with curiosity, the merchant bravely marched up to the figure and challenged him. "Death," he intoned, "why did you accost my servant earlier today?" The dark body turned to face him and the voice spoke in a hoarse, forbidding whisper. "Attack your ssservant you sssay? I did no sssuch thing. I merely raissed my armss in sssurprise at ssseeing him here. For I have an appointment with him tonight.... ....in Trinsssic."

How to follow that? Twas no easy task, but I did it. n times gone by, these lands were defended by The Knights of the Silver Serpent. But, even as they slip away into legend, so too did those who came before them. Aye, before the Knights, there were others. Here is one of their tales. The balron rose, his freedom won, yet gnawing on a fallen stallion, set about the knight, that battered knight, last of his mighty battalion So the balron roared, defiant fiend, his challengers splayed, a bloody fount, with cracked skulls and broken limbs, we’ve spoke of the half-eaten mount. Born of abyss flame, and witches wail, Ye knights or high mages be damned! No sword or steel, no conjured gale, can withstand this dark beast’s wrath Beneath his great and cloven feet, Lie the remains of his battered foe, For the balron rose, and man shall fall, Bodies rent, blow by blow. I am Balron and death is my lord. I am death’s warrior, behold my claw! Now fear the teeth and claw Which need to bleed you dry Believe bold ones and fear The beast’s bloodlust is no lie Bile flows down its chin, This hell-spawned kin, No angel from heaven’s sky, No angel uses bat-wings to fly! Tis one of a horde, a darkened horde, Born in fires lit long afore I or thee. It’s joy is fear, fear that binds, Your torment it loves to see. It laughs as you writhe, laughs consumed with glee, It sneers, it crows, mocking your fall, Awaiting your final terrified plea! I am Balron and death is my lord. I am death’s warrior, now fear my claw! The Balron basked in the glow Of the Abyss fires flickering around. He’d lain waste to these hedge knights, Who’d hoped to fell him to the ground. Now wading through their blood, As it flowed from them like wine, He rejoiced, and took a sip, Of that dark vintage, not of the vine, He’d blessed them with pain and fear. “Your pain brings me power!” he thought “Suffer, suffer, as you go, little fools,” “And next time bring a better sword!” Nearby, a page boy did cower. As the Balron towered dark and tall in that cavern of blood, sweat and gloom, life near the end now, no hope, none at all. I am Balron, and death is my lord! I am death’s warrior, now feel my claw! High the Balron hefted the terrified lad, Far above his dripping maw. Laughing, drooling, savouring the lad’s fear, As he hung, far, far from the floor. A ghoulish grin upon that vile face, He’d break him, flay him, and more. These plans most dark grew apace, But! Then came crashing upon that place! A rumble! A thundering! A mighty shout! The room was filled with blue and flashing steel! Swirling spells struck the darkened lout, As knights stuck the Balron with zeal! Spells flew, swords struck, an arrow pierced its snout! As the page boy dived, and hooves did wheel, And Excalibur brought the balron to rout, Today that boy’d be no beast’s meal. I am Balron, and death is my lord! You’ll not slay me â€" behold my claw! Those knights of the table round Reduced the dread Balron to naught. Their swords, their spears, Myrwddin’s spells, Made it curse and cry as they fought. But no match was it for the sword of the just, No match, and yet still, it thought That it might see victory that day Against King Arthur’s court. Fool of a Balron! Fool of a fiend! A pike is all your schemes have wrought. Upon that pike, your head now rests. Your schemes and power all for naught. That page boy, Arthur did indeed rescue, For twas he that Myrwddin had sought, To one day lead new Knights, guard the land, Pageboy Py’d be the land’s last resort. I was Balron, and death is my lord! I was death’s warrior, now gone to my reward! The knights are gone now, KRT, Lord British broke the table round. The knights are gone now, KSS, But virtue still abounds. New knights will come soon,  patience, wait… Light and Silver, they will come… listen for their sound!

Hard to believe, nowadays, that balrons were once one of the greatest threats in this land. *shrugs* In any case, next up was a tale of a name from Siege's past. Tigsalot the Great! Once and Future King of the Iron Claw Empire! irst, a little history. ICE was born back when we had groups like the orcs and the undead. ICE were elves before there were elves,and they did not get along with humans. So that you may know how this story goes n Elf lord rode, the desert flowed Far from the normal paths of men. He sniffed about, but then did shout, Bah! I smell one of human ken. His mare pranced high, the Elf did sigh, Ill neer let humans travel nigh. Well meat for you, my nightmare true! A human male makes snacks for two! When from the desert came a jingling, A lusty, loud bass voice was singing, HO HO HO! Merry Christmas lad! Ive arrived!  My reindeer clad In harness still, our time was such. I wish to bring your Elf kin much! Elf made gifts from the North Pole! Whats this?? You rate a lump of coal? Tigsalot, this cannot be! I thought you ruled by high decree! What deed has brought you to this place Where coal would suit your lack of grace? Santa Claus, it must be known, Its true, our empires greatly grown. Intruders did invade our land And when they fought, I took my hand And smote them down, for we would see Our Elf lands free from enemy. But now with war throughout the land, Our King and humans formed a band. What Ho?!, said Santa, quite alarmed. My reindeer team must not be harmed! We will give thee passage free, And milk and cookies left for thee. For Santa you are welcome here. Your Elves and reindeer need not fear. Our clan delights to see your sleigh. Thanks for stopping on your way! What ho, my Lad!, did Santa say. A new leaf oer turned today! Next year instead of lumps of coal To bring you presents is my goal! And so the kindly Santa waved, And drove his reindeer harnessed sleigh. Ho Ho Ho! Merry Christmas all, Human, Elf kin, old or small!

I'd been thinking of Tigsalot a fair bit lately, if only because Razz has started to develop certain habits that remind me of him! Our next work was also of a seasonal nature! he Ancient Wyrm stood tall and proud over looking the nursery. Clad in only his night shirt and cap he looked over the cribs and small beds with the baby Wyrms, Drakes, Dragons, Greater Dragons, all curled and cover in bed. Their dreams this evening of the hord of gold old St Nick would bring them this night. With a yawn he turns to go to his own bed when he heard a Click, click off in the distance. Thinking "what could that be?", he wonders over to his vault, Click, Click he once more hears. This time from the other side of the vault door, turning the knob, he opened the door looking around inside its dark room he once more hears, Click, Click.  "What can that be?" he wonders. Click, Click, once more then a squeak of hinges this time. That sound he knew - a chest had been opened. With a roar the Ancient Wyrm  spat fire at the torches within the vault and said with a curse ready, "Who dares enters my vault on this very special night?" A small voice off in a very dark corner says, "Santa Mouse, la." Santa Mouse?  Could it be?  No it couldnt, Santa was by all the tales a man, a human, but a mouse, ney it could not be. "Showed thyself Santa Mouse!", the Ancient Wyrm bellows, again flames fly from its mouth as it looks all around the huge vault. "I am here, la", comes the small voice under his feet. Quick as he could he turns, his flames fire and he hits his tail. With a curse on his lips he bellows once more, "Why are you here Santa Mouse?" Again the small voice answers him, just under his feet. "Why I am here? To be sure that all have a equal share of the hoard this evening la. To be sure that all will have fair and equal shares, I am checking your vault amount, la." "My Amount?"  The Ancient Wyrm asked, why would it be necessary to do such a thing? "Well it be known that you have the largest of the hoards among all the Dragons, la. And when St Nicks drops off his gifts to the others he wishes to be sure that they receive it and not end up in here, la. Besides do you know by count what you have here, la." "What!"  Fire once more lit the room, "No I have no idea of the amount I have here, only that its is mine and not anyone elses!" He felt something climbing up under his nightshirt. With twists and turns he sought to dislodge this climber but failed. His movements were too slow to catch this nimble climber. Soon it was on his head, he felt it march across his head, He saw a flash of red as it climbed down and across his face to stand before his very eyes.  It was a mouse dressed in red. With a squeak "I am Santa Mouse, la". He whips out a book, on it are the words, Bad List. "So far you are just border lined for your name in this book, a list Santa checks twice a day, la. Now if you wish to be sure to stay out of it, la You best changes your ways, la". With a look of worry the Ancient Wyrm says. "No no I will be good, please be sure to tell Santa." With a nod to the Ancient Wyrm, Santa Mouse leaps off the top of his face to a large gold pile below, and as slick as a rat, vanishes within the gold pile. The Ancient Wyrm turns to lumber off to his bed, his thoughts this evening are not on Santa, but Santa Mouse. The next morning shouts of glee and happiness awake the Ancient one, all of the other dragons are so proud of the hoard under their feet, each with a card that reads, "Merry Christmas AW.  la". With a worry look he rushes to check his vault, and just as he is about to open it he hears prancing and pawing of little hoofs, and a great shout, "Now!Dasher, now! Dancer, now! Prancer and Vixen, On Comet, on! Cupid, on! Donder and Blitzen, Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night." As he opens his vault he at shock to see that his hoard is double the size and on top is a huge card that reads.  "Merry Christmas, la"! The end

This was followed, as might be expected in these turbulent times, by a political message. But, it was from Kelmo, so nobody minded, and the barkeep continued to get richer. *smiles* reetings citizens of Siege. I am very pleased to see an old familiar tradition revisited. Thank you Gilfane for hosting. I hope all attending have a marvelous time. Please continue to support community events. I am here to announce I am running for the Office of King. As  King I will conduct regular meetings with the Governors and all concerned citizens. These meetings will be held though out the month at various times to accommodate as many citizens as possible. My very special press agent Luka will record our meetings. We will publicly post these meetings for all to see. I will do my best to work through proper channels and attempt to promote Siege thoughts, ideas and suggestions. I promise to keep an open mind but I am very conservitive as far as changing the rules of Siege.  We all deserve a voice. I also promise to help support all community minded events to the best of my abilities. I hope we have a full slate of govenors to work with. Please consider running for office. Thank you for your time. I have opened my campaign headquarters very near Brit Gate. Drop by and leave a message! I hear you! One last comment... Has anyone else noticed that there are no less than four King Blackthornes standing in a zombie like trance? *smiles*

Kelmo made a fine mayor for many a sheep's age, so he has my vote for king! Hold on... do you vote for kings? I thought they pulled swords out of stones. More on that later. For now, here's something completely different! rom the far-away land of Oceania, and the Pub Poets, we have Eshelle! WRONG In Wrong, Dessy hunted with Fred When Fred noticed Dessy was dead So Fred cast a rez To try and help Des But flamestriked his own ass instead! SOULSEEKER I took up my trusty soulseeker To bash humanoids who were weaker But I soon came a cropper To a great big orc chopper And came back alive but much meeker VESPER There once was a tamer called Lester Who went seeking love throughout Vesper He found a sweet filly He thought was called Jilly But t'was a crossdresser called Chester!

The room grew still once the laughter faded. I've never liked a still room, so I pulled out an older scroll. Some of you may have heard this one when I first wrote it, some may not. In any case, here is... fter a while, a grim lull fell around the table, and the two miners glared at each other. The others shuffled their feet, or expressed extreme interest in the contents of their drinks. The deathly silence was broken, as Fjorkson the bald slammed his tankard down on the table, showering the others with ale. "How DARE thee, thou illegitimate son of a cross-bred mongbat!" He bellowed at Kairn across the table. "I gained that gold through perseverance, and many weeks of hard toil in the worst mining areas known to man! That thou would accuse me of stealing, or mere good luck - I will not have the cow-dung of your words slung at my good name!" Kairn gave him a cold look, and slowly applauded. "Bravo, shiny headed one, bravo. There are not many who can give as convincing a display of anger as you. Why, the bar-dwellers behind you are leaving in their droves! Bravo. Still, you have given me no cause to believe a word you say. That you would have the nerve to even enter Wrong dungeon, let alone venture to it's depths, is a tale that I would only believe after several casks of the finest ale, and, while there may well be great treasure down there, to have me believe that thou, of all people, would be able to drag chest upon chest of it up past all the creatures that dwell there, and escape without a single scratch - nay, come now! Simply admit that thou has spun a fine tale, and it has relieved our boredom for this night, and be done with it!" "I shall do no such thing, Kairn." growled Fjorkson. "However, I shall give thee a choice. Thou can kiss the flat of mine hammer outside the back door of this fine establishment, or thou can accompany me back into the depths, to give me the chance to prove the virtue of my words." At this, Kairn, quite impressively, shot ale out his nose. "Well, Kairn, which shall it be? At least allow me the chance to avenge my good name against thy slurs, one way or another. I am happy to reshape thy head with this hammer, or to spend a day or three putting up with thee underground. Take thy pick, or bring thy pick - it makes no difference to me!" "Ah, well done again, oh moon-domed one!" laughed Kairn "I now have the choice of being struck down by a far larger, stronger man than myself, or venturing into the darkness with either a liar or a lunatic! I can be humiliated and bloodied outside, or face almost certain death in Wrong. Well played, indeed! But, I am no coward. I shall call thy bluff. I choose to accompany thee, on the condition that these fine gentlemen here accompany us to the entry point, and wait outside. I wish them to bear witness that I did not flee in terror, as thou are bound to suggest, and that thou do actually enter this vile place of which you speak! I would not ask them to accompany us within, that would not be fair to them." Fjorkson beamed. "Tomorrow, then, we ride!" he laughed. "Barkeep! A round for my friends here, on me!" Kairn looked nervous. No miner in their right mind ventured into Wrong, and certainly not with a huge smile on their face. What was going on here? Still, he had seen the huge pile of treasures in Fjorkson's house - a dozen pack mules, aided by as many beetles, could not have carried that much gold out of any mine. Had Fjorkson trained a dragon to carry for him, perhaps? Or was there more to this? Either way, he would know the secret before the week was out, or have the pleasure of rediculing his rival in front of the entire local mining community! All he had to do, was stay alive - in Wrong! Morning broke, and the small group of miners headed for the cavern that lead to Wrong. Fjorkson had only brought one pack llama, which puzzled Kairn even more. Still, he was no one's fool, and would soon see what the great mystery was. They left their friends at the enterance, lit torches, and stepped inside. After a short walk, they heard voices. The low, gutteral, sing-song was unmistakable - Juka! They crept past them, and on towards the rough stairway that lead down into the darkness. A huge, metalic beast shambled past, as they hugged the rock wall, in the shadows - a golem! Three more followed, clanking past, talking to each other in a low, metalic hum. Many more creatures were seen, the deeper they crept into the caves. Deeper and deeper, into the darkness, past strange men, and wonderous sights. "Here we are!" exclaimed Fjorkson in a loud voice "The treasure is right through here!" "Quiet!!!!!" hissed Kairn "thou ART mad - be still, or half the dungeon shall descend upon us!" "Ah, but that is the way to receive the treasure!" smiled Fjorkson. Kairn did not like the look on his face. "What do you mean?" he asked, backing away warily. "Look behind you." Fjorkson grinned, his eyes glowing red in the darkness. Kairn slowly turned... There, towering over him, stood a tall man, with grey skin, in a red and white robe, flanked on either side by two floating creatures. The last thought that entered his mind was "oh, flying golems. What will they think of next?". The man thrust a gleaming metal band about Kairn's head, and everything went black... The next day, the miners sat around the table, drinking to the memory of Kairn, the poor soul who had lost his nerve in the mine, and fled screaming into the darkness, despite the noble efforts of Fjorkson to stop him. "I tried my uttermost, but Kairn had the strength of madness - I could not restrain him. I am sorry, my friends." he told them. "Ah, but you brought back another huge load of gold, we are all witness to that!" said one of the younger miners. "May I accompany you, next time?" "Certainly! I am not greedy - you are welcome to accompany me, any time." smiled Fjorkson, counting his latest blood-spoils in his head. "Besides, we should be safer this time, now that I have my newly tamed golem!". Ah, the controllers paid well for his victims, indeed. Somewhere, imprisoned deep within the metalic mind of the golem, Kairn screamed silently to warn ears that could not hear...

Now, that should keep you up at night! So, best to follow it with something much lighter. Like this: oor Old fool", thought the well-dressed gentleman as he watched an old man fish in a puddle outside a pub. So he invited the old man inside for a drink. As they sipped their whiskeys, the gentleman thought he'd humor the old man and asked, "So how many have you caught today?" The old man replied, "Youre the eighth." And so, I felt it time to honor another of Siege's past... characters, and whipped out a scroll that I'd found in an old chest. n Homare's a vampire most fierce, he lives just down the street, he flaps and squawks and bares his fangs, and cries for fresh human meat. He tries every day to bite me, and yet this vampire I can not fear, as for all his hissing flapping noise, all he ever seems to do is leer! This vampire has bats in his belfry, He's rather sweet, I must admit. and for all his cries of damnation, few has he ever successfully bit. Yonder dwells a vampire most loud, truly a sweet and cuddly chap, fear not his changes to animal form, roll up a newspaper, give him a tap. Insolent? Me? Never!  Next Holden Caulfield was marched to the front at spear-point, to provide this translation...Nambo's words are in red, Holden's translation in blue.

avages warsip manii Gads, but cief amang tem, gad af all gads is Nanahuatzin, te gad af fire. Savages worship many gods, but chief among them, god of all savage gods is Nanahuatzin, the god of fire. Far manii maons past, witin te eavens a great battle takes place between te wat'r gad, Prateus and Nanahuatzin For many moons past, within the heavens a great battle takes place between the water god, Proteu and Nanahuatzin. It is during tis time tat ance again te wat'r gad gains is advantage and puses te Nanahuatzin bak causing te sun ta be at te furtest distance And it is during this time that once again the water god gains his advantage and pushes the fire god back causing the sun to be at its furthest distance. Tis is wii te calar blue is ated bii all savages and is warn anlii in disgrace This is why the color blue is hated by all savages and is worn only in disgrace. Tik cald snaw drapes te land and brings ardsip ta te Savages. Thick cold snow drapes the land and brings hardship to the Savages. It is in tis time teii cling ta teir beliefs te strang'r It is in this time they cling to their beliefs the strongest. During te Saltice te Savages ast a large fest in anar af Nanahuatzin regaining is advantage and maving te sun clas'r. During the Soltice the Savages host a large festival in honor of Nanahuatzin regaining his advantage and moving the sun closer. T'n and Faur Maons fram naw te festival takes place. Fourteen moons from now the festival takes place Savage Warriars use best Jabber ta campete in event knawn as Jabber Envii. Savage Warriors use their best spear to compete in an event known as Spear Envy. Savage Shaman call upan Nanahuaztin in te farm af Domii ta campete in event knawn as Domii Daminance Savage Shamans will call upon Fire Elementals to battle in event known as Fire Elemental Dominance If ula wis ta remain amangst the living, falla as Savage ta te event If you wish to remain among the living, come to Savage event as Savage Kin Kafka! Goodbye!

I was concerned that people might have had enough of me by this point, but it seemed that was not the case, so I pulled out a small scroll, keeping my larger ones in reserve for a future night! `Our King is dying.` The royal physician said, with wavering voice, not knowing if his news would lead to a trip to the dungeons, or even straight to the chopping block. `Can you do nothing for him?` asked the head counsellor, taking the fear in the healers eyes as a true sign that he was not being mislead. `Nothing, milord.` Silence fell over the hall. One of those long silences that normally ends with the clang of steel, and a muffled gurgle of a lifes end. But not this time. `He has no heir. Sosaria will be overrun with armies and bands who feel that it is their right to rule,. We must act now. Before he passes.` There was a mighty rumbling in the hall, and crimson smoke poured across the floor. `You, counsellor? YOU must act? I think not.` `And who, mage, are you? And by what right do you enter these halls?` `My name is Mariah. I bring a message.` Mariahs name was known to all present  friend of gargoyles, aide of the fabled Avatar, and legendary mage, in every sense of the term. The civil servants and healers drew back nervously. `Lord British is to pass from this realm, to his final reward  or eternal torment, as the case may be. But, while I cannot heal him, or grant him any more years, I can let him speak to his people one last time.` And so it was that all the people of the land, did that day see a huge, glowing image of their kings head, in the clouds. Some shot arrows at it. Some fell to their knees. But all heard. My people! I must leave you! But, you will not be without a leader! In keeping with a tale I once heard, I have instructed my greatest mage to place a sword in a stone, in the midst of the courtyard of my castle. Whoever pulls the sword from that stone, be they man, woman, elf, or other, is the rightful king of these lands! And then, he died. The funeral was a great occasion, with crowds gathered from all over the lands. Some, to be sure that the tyrant was dead  others to wish him well. Many came to the castle, to pull the sword from the stone. The greatest warriors, the most cunning thieves, the most skilled crafters and spellcasters  but there, the sword stayed. Weeks went by, and it began to look as if there would be no king found. But then, a farmer arrived, with a team of gamans. No one said I couldnt use a little help! he grinned, and tied a rope to the hilt of the sword. The gamans pulled, and grunted, and strained  but the sword refused to move. It seemed hopeless. But, just as the rope snapped, and the last gaman fell, exhausted, to the ground, the earth began to shake. A young boy approached the sword. There was something about the way he looked - something regal. Royal. A look that demanded respect. But then, he was flung aside as the earth bucked and heaved, and sent flying through a window! A deep growl came from within the earth, and the stone in which the sword was embedded began to rise! With a mighty roar, a huge, earthen hand came out of the ground, grasped the sword by the hilt, and pulled it free of the stone! "ArrrrLLLL RIGHT DEN!" boomed the earth elemental. "WHO DOES ME HAFF TO SQUISH FER STICKIN' METAL SPIKEYS IN MUH BACK, DEN?" The counsellors and lords looked at one another, and back to this huge elemental, made even more powerful by the magic of the blade. Then, a crown of ore and jewels began to form on its head. With a growl, it turned, marched into the castle, and sat down, crushing the throne. And so it was, that the lands of Sosaria, came to be united, under the great and wise rule, of their new king. King Earther, he of the Ground table. Well, some of you may be sad to hear this, some may rejoice and say "at last! Otto's going to shut up now!", but that is the end of the night's offerings! A massive thank you to all who came, whether it was to speak, to listen, or just to drink! A good mix of tales, both old and new, and many fine forms of entertainment!

Good friends,

it has been some time since I put quill to parchment for any great endeavours.
So long, I find to my deep regret, that there are those amongst you who have never read any of my works. In any regard, recent events, and the kind words of Lore Denin have broken down the blockages that had grown in this old writer's mind. So, I have taken up the pen once more, and hope that ye enjoy the fruits of my labours.

Thus follows "The Merging", for want of a better title. I did consider "Knight and Day", but methinks I've read that somewhere else before, and tis not fitting for a knight to steal titles from other folks!

Tis a tale in six parts, and when the sixth has found its way here, I shall yield the stage to Lore, and place a copy of these tales on Stratics, for the good (and not so good) folks there to peruse as well. For now, all being well, my schedule shall be to publish a chapter every Monday and Friday.

So... here begins the tale. Grab an ale, make yourself comfortable, and I shall begin...

[this]

This is a long shot, but I'll ask anyway, just in case there are any other UO-loving developers out there.

A long time ago, back when we all still loved UOMap, UOWedding, UOCurse (Thy mother lusts after lizardmen!), and similar things, Tugsoft had a page on their website that described how to hook into UOAssist from your own code. That page seems to be long gone, but I was wondering if anyone knew where to find that sort of information nowadays?
I'm not planning any type of cheat tool that suddenly turns my pathetic PvP skills into the shard champion - I just have an idea for a RoT timer that actually monitors skill gains, and alerts you automatically when another gain is due... maybe even add in some kind of skill gain history chart, for the pedantic people amongst us... things like that.

It was easy to hook into that API from VB3 (yes, you already knew that I'm old), but today's Visual Studio isn't showing me anything terribly useful. It could be that they've closed off their API, and it's not open to automation any more, but perhaps someone knows another way to monitor or hook into UOAssist or even UO's processes?

Thanks!

*edit* I do have this information, but could use a hand actually getting some code jump-started!

I have undertaken a fearsome quest. The perils that I will face are almost beyond speaking. If I return with body and soul intact (tis too late for the mind!) tis only by the good will of some great being. So, I shall be away for the whole week...

...helping to run a kids holiday club.

At least thirty 7-11 year olds, all hopped up on excessive amounts of sugar, all running amok, all expecting to be entertained.
And I volunteered.

So, to whoever that last alliance member is who has been spreading vile rumors about my sanity around, I say "ha!".
This should prove that I'm madder than Tigsalot ever was, once and for all!

See you in a week or so, if I'm still breathing!

I fear this infernal thing called the "real world" is placing massive demands on my time this week, with things like over-due assignments, people wanting their computers fixed (cretins!!!) and one particularly gruesome customer who has NO idea how the 6-week old yoghurt got into his laptop's keyboard. Aye. Right. Sure he doesn't. He doesn't understand how there came to be sticky fingerprints gumming up his touch-sensitive screen, either, or why there are chocolate smears all over it. Or why his DVD drive won't open any more. (Take a wild guess. Go on. I dare you.)
This is why I should NEVER tell people I have technical knowledge.

So, while I may be in desperate need of something to hit, that will have to wait for a week.
Good fortune with thy hunts, and I should be back by next week Tuesday... possibly in need of tetanus or rabies shots.

Hail to thee, nobles of Gilfane!

In recent months, I have found my time whittled down to an absolute minimum by tasks in the spirit realm.
This, as many have found before me, leaves little time to walk the lands of Siege, let alone command a guild such as the Knights of the Silver Serpent. However, I do not wish KSS to die.

So, after much consultation with Lady Hoffs, and much deliberation with my loyal followers, KSS hereby makes application to become a House of Gilfane.
Depending on thy rulings, and thy acceptance of our application, 'twill be either House KSS or House Serpent. (House KSS would be preferable. I believe KSS is also an orcish word, meaning "run for it - it's those amazingly handsome and fierce knights again!" in our language.)

While an order shield would have been preferred as our symbol, I understand House Nemesis already uses this.
So, a Knight's cleaver it will be.
Our standard blue will remain our hue - I trust no one is already using it?

We are few in number, the never-ending battle having cost many lives - but, those who remain are committed to this move.

I await thy response! Pray, pardon this old knight if I am slow in responding - those demands on my time that I mentioned may keep me away from these scrolls for a day or two!

SOL INVICTUS!!!

Blind Otto
Knight Commander
Knights of the Silver Serpent

Hail, Gilfane!

For those who are not yet aware, the keepers of our old sky scrolls started demanding vast sums of gold to look after them. Blackmail is not honorable, and so we did quit that library, and went in search of a new one.

The building we have found seems to be of sound construction, although tis in need of a coat of paint and a few repairs here and there. If ye wish to visit, the mystic portal to it can be found by striking this sigil with a left-handed rodent.

*picks splinters out of beard*

Hail, all!

I would have dropped by earlier, but Hoffs made the elf infestation problem sound quite severe, so I went in search of false ears, to be on the safe side.

Nonetheless, here I be!

This Friday (um, today...) at 11pm EST, there will be a KSS ceremony - the first in a very long while!
This will take place at Py Lethius's house, near Skara. The co-ordinates are 64o35'S  26o51'W.
Quite how we all get up to the roof, I haven't quite figured out yet, but hopefully Lord Lethius himself will appear long enough beforehand to advise in that regard!

Our guest of honor is Alizaren - I am sure ye can all guess why! If you cannot - come along and find out anyway!

I must run, I fear - refreshments to buy, runes to mark, and so on.
(I have passed a rune to the spot on to Nightingale, who, hopefully, will remember to lock it down at the Golden Unicorn in Wispwood Shire before tonight!)

Blind Otto
Knight of the Silver Serpent