(IR) The 3rd IR, Turn 0 - The Sending of the Wanderer - Page 13
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  1. #121
    Acolyte (Lvl 2)

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    Jan 2002
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    ø Block Mr. Draco

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    & recieved, & replied to

    I look forward to future cooperation Iuz!

  2. #122

    From the past . . . Reprisal speaks for the UC

    What follows is the official UC response to the Wanderer's message. I believe this will count as another "sending" across Toril and Oerth.

    The United Commonwealth of Toril Responds:

    Using the 20th Century capabilities of her people, the
    Right Honourable Erika Lesage, Prime Minister of the
    United Commonwealth of Toril settles herself at a
    stately looking desk and regards the cameras in front
    of her.

    "It has come to the attention of the United
    Commonwealth that through the magical capabilities of
    the being known as the Wanderer, slanderous and
    distorted material has been spread throughout your
    world. Though the images seen are indeed quite
    truthful, it is not that which is untrue, for it is
    the interpretation by the Wanderer himself that is not
    the truth. This information the Wanderer has given you
    through his own voice, as convincing as it seems, is
    full of distortions, omissions and blatant lies."

    The image of that land appears. There are the mountain
    ranges, snow capped and mighty. There are the fields,
    castles tall amongst them, manor homes and peasant
    homes sprinkled throughout. There are the forests,
    green and verdent, from the tall boreal forests of
    Luruar to the lush tropical rainforests of Chult.

    There are the cities: mighty Waterdeep, noble
    Silverymoon, proud Zhentil Keep, menacing Mulmaster,
    Calimport in all it’s sprawl, Candlekeep with it’s
    endless libraries, and many more. Like the Flanaess,
    there are the scars of wars and magic ... the High
    Moor is bleak and barren, the desert of Anarouch
    shimmers in the heat. Like the Flanaess, there are
    places of mystery and wonder. The Halls of
    Eveningstar, the Star Mounds, Ironfang Keep, the
    mysterious magehalls of Nimbral, the buried wonders of

    Like the Flanaess, there are places of great beauty:
    Evermeet, a green and shining island of wonder in the
    middle of the blue sea, the stately grace of the
    islands of the Moonshaes, rising in green covered
    cliffs out of the froth, the grandeur of the Great
    Rift, the glittering caverns of Mithril Hall.

    The elves of this land are like the elves of Oerth,
    pretty much; some are blue and some are gold, and some
    are even green, but they are all elves. The dwarves
    are like those of Oerth, noble and strong and stout.
    The gnomes are the same, short and clever and darkly
    humorous. The halflings are similar; some are peaceful
    gardeners, and some are lonely foresters, but all are
    reasonably non-violent. Except for the altered
    geography, and the fact that there are more mages in
    this land, and they are slightly stronger than the
    mages of Oerth, this might well be the Flanaess.

    (The people of this land, choose to walk a path that
    diverged from wisdom and the Light.)

    "The Wisdom and the Light, as the Wanderer puts it,
    has not been as pure and good as he might have hoped.
    As with the history preceeding our own Rebirth, I am
    quite aware of the devastating wars, wasting famine,
    terrible diseases, and horrendous evils of human and
    demihuman alike that the Wanderer's Utopia has brought
    about. And I might note, that while evil is still
    known to rest in the hearts of a distinct minority of
    our people, we have all but done away with disease,
    famine and domestic warfare. The only thing
    threatening the harmony of Toril are foreign
    aggressors, such as those forces allied with the

    Images appear, in order, one by one.

    A stately old inn is seen, probably over a hundred
    years old. It is made of wood, it is aesthetically
    beautiful, the price is fair, the service excellent,
    and the food superb.
    But now a large number of people are converging on the
    inn, and with picks and axes they are chopping it
    down, reducing it to kindling, and hauling off the
    And with the inn goes all the trees and shrugs around
    it, all hewed down and carted away.
    An ugly building, 3 stories high, made out of dinghy
    stone, is put up in it’s place.
    The new owner, a gnome, looks it up and down, smiles
    and nods: ‘This is progress. We will make much more
    money now.’

    A pleasant country village is seen, with a scattering
    of homes, churches to various dieities, the general
    store, the blacksmith, the cobbler, the bakery,
    But they are tearing it all down, and people are being
    evicted from their homes by force.
    Again, all the buildings are demolished, and all the
    trees and shrugs hewed away, and everything carted

    In the place of the town rises a set of what look like
    tall stone block buildings (apartment tenements), and
    a new industrial center rises at the center of town,
    ugly and black, filled with odd and nonsensical
    looking pipes, beams, wheels, and long tall stacks.
    The people are made to live in these stone buildings.
    They do not look happy.
    Now, smoke begins to rise out of the tall stacks at an
    incredible rate. It very quickly changes the color of
    the sky to a murky blue, and the fumes cause people to
    gag, to cough, to hold their hands over their mouths
    as they hurry to and fro.

    (They chose to walk a crooked path, a path that went
    wrong, terribly wrong.)

    The same town, but now it is a city.
    There is not a tree or bush in sight.
    There are endless rows of tenements, hundreds of them,
    filling the entire vision, no countryside to be seen
    at all.
    Gigantic buildings tower over the tenements, but these
    are not churches; they are great buildings of iron and
    stone, and an awful sound comes from them.
    The sound of bellows, of steam, of hammers, of chains,
    of some unholy uproar, as if all the demons were loose
    and on the warpath.
    The people in the narrow, grimy streets are rushing to
    and fro like a hoard of demons were coming for them;
    pushing through each other in an incredible jam,
    beggars and the destitute and the homeless evident at
    every corner, being splashed by the filthy slime
    thrown from the streets as the passerbys step in the
    murky water.
    From the great tall cyclindrical towers are coming
    multiple plumes of smoke - so much smoke it seems like
    a forest fire is in progress. No amount of wood could
    produce that much smoke unless whole forests ARE being
    cleared to produce it.
    The sky is a sickly yellow brown color, and the
    sunlight coming through the smoke is weak and reddish.

    (The people of Faerun went wrong. As they continued
    walking their new path, reason and care were discarded
    on the grass.)

    "Once again, we see the selective eye of the Wanderer.
    He, if I may presume gender, has shown you in several
    seconds what it took our people years to accomplish.
    Yes, it was painful, but it was growth and as all
    should know, with growth, comes great pain. That pain,
    however, is temporary, and the benefits of such
    progress is many times that of remaining static and
    stagnant... Reason and care were not 'thrown on the
    grass,' as the Wanderer would have you believe. It is
    Reason that has allowed us to rise above what we once
    were to become what we are."

    A large gathering of gnomes, bald men and women in red
    robes, men and women wearing black garments adorned
    with the symbols of a skull or other ghastly markings,
    and many others are congregated around a table.
    A conversation is in progress:

    ‘We have perfected Permanency, and now it can be cast
    without any penalty to the wielder’
    ‘Yes, but will it take on items?’
    ‘Indeed, for we have modified it so that it will cover
    most spells, and most items.’
    ‘We can create magical items on an assembly line.’
    ‘Show us some of these items.’

    ‘Here is an arquebus (the device) that fires three
    times as fast as a normal arquebus, it never misfires,
    and it is twice as accurate.’
    ‘Here is a cannon (the device is shown) that loads
    itself, and we are working on making Bolts of Holding
    for the ammunition.’
    ‘Here is a device that will propel a ship through
    water without sails, employing steam, and its steel
    blades won’t break from any normal cause’

    But now one of the gnomes steps forward, and presents
    a flask of greek fire.

    ‘When this is thrown, it will burst with 10 fold
    effect, and nothing will put out the fire until the
    oil itself has burned out!’

    - - -

    (Walking their path, they abandoned the care and
    caution of magecraft. They abandoned the
    responsibility of power. They chose to turn a blind
    eye to consequences. Only power mattered, and that was
    pursued ruthlessly.)

    "Indeed, the United Commonwealth of Toril commands a
    great many powerful devices in the defense of its
    people and way of life. The images you are seeing, are
    not how the UC operates today, or even decades ago. At
    the same time, the mere creation of powerful weapons
    does not automatically mean that they will be used for
    good nor evil for tools are without morality, as the
    Wanderer clearly does not understand."

    The forests are being hacked down, trees falling,
    crashing, thundering to the ground.
    The new and horrible sound, the sound of chainsaws, is
    heard, and the forest is being destroyed at an
    appalling rate, an incredible rate.
    Two iron or steel rails have been laid through the
    cleared area, and a gigantic machine is sitting on the
    rails, or a series of gigantic machines. The logs are
    being laid upon them, piled high, until thousands of
    trees are laid on the train, for train it is, and the
    engine roars to life, and with black puffs slowly
    accelerates, pulling the massive assemblage of logs
    and steel vehicles away, with a noise like steadily
    rising thunder.

    Some of the trees that were cut are not hewed apart,
    but instead stripped in mills - strange mills filled
    with the deafening scream of magical saws, and then
    placed straight up.
    Long rows of these naked posts are set up, then wires
    - made of some unknown substance - are hung from them,
    again and again, and more and more posts go up, and
    more wires, until they seem to block out the sky.
    A bird lands on one of the wires, then contacts a
    second wire. With a flash like lightning, the bird is
    incinerated. Grumbling gnomes are seen climbing up and
    working on the wires with devices that are
    They kick the corpse of the bird into the nearby
    river, which is murky and has a strange sickly smell
    to it.

    The view pulls back, and it can be seen that the
    devastation to the forests is far and wide, and
    everywhere these steel beams have been placed over the
    ground, and the poles and wires are everywhere.
    All the quaintly old towns and villages are vanishing,
    and vast cities are springing up.
    Cities where the air is so toxic men and women and
    children die from breathing it, people are made to
    live stacked up 10 stories high, 5 to a room, where
    beggars and the destitute rot in the narrow streets,
    and where endless vast factories, forbiddening, black,
    pour endless amounts of smoke into the atmosphere,
    filling the whole sky with a black pall.
    The rivers are poisoned, and those who fall in come
    out sick, and they die, or must be magically healed
    ... but magical healing is still as rare as ever, and
    the clergy are raking in the money more than the new
    bankers or stock brokers are, shouting and yelling and
    brandishing slips of paper in a meaningless (and
    endless) cacophony of sound.

    "Once again, I feel compelled to reiterate the fact
    that the UC does not act in this way anymore! This was
    in our past, a past I'd not like to remember. As you
    can now see, our lands are as full of life, as clean
    and pure, as yours are."

    (Some among them had never chosen to walk the crooked
    path, and had retained wisdom and reason. They gave
    battle to the gnomes and technomancers, fought to keep
    them from making Faerun over as they pleased.)

    - - -

    The druids are gathered in conclave in the sacred
    Next, they are seen in the blackish pits of the
    machines, the factories, throwing their magic,
    wrecking the machines, stopping the smoke from
    billowing out into the sky, stopping the poisons from
    flowing into the rivers.
    The sacred grove appears again. Into said grove march
    figures sheathed in armor, head to toe. The armor is
    strange; the figures look like they are covered in
    giant shells. Each figure is carrying a long tube that
    spits fire: fire that melts rock, and devours trees
    and shrubs, burning them quickly to cinders.
    The grove burns, wails of protest by the dryads as
    they die unavailing them, for those who are attacking
    are without pity or remorse.

    The image of a court appears. The gnomes are the
    judges, and the jury.
    And the executioners, and the druids, men and women,
    are taken out and hung, by the hundreds, their bodies
    left to rot in the poisoned sunlight.

    Wizards with red robes shoot blazing beams of light,
    whether magic or technology is unknown, and those
    beams cut down trees in a flash, like they’d been
    struck by lightning.
    Mile after mile of forest is destroyed, then fireballs
    and thousands of the new greek oil explosives are
    thrown in, incinerating all.
    The screams of the dying druids are matched by the
    screams of dying animals, birds, and the Faerie,
    trapped and unable to flee the firestorm.

    The scene of a dungeon. Druid women hang in rows. With
    great glee, the men and women who are their jailors,
    wearing the hideous skull symbol seen earlier, begin
    their work of torture, ultimately multilating the
    victims beyond recognition.

    "If one was to look at the correct chronology of
    events, it would be obvious that it was not the
    technocratic powers that attacked the druids, it was
    the druids and their allies that attacked the
    technocratic powers. It has long been the belief of
    the UC that the inhabitants of a land are the sole
    executors of its destiny. The Druids and their allies
    did not believe this, and decided to impinge upon the
    sovereign right of the technocratic powers to do as it
    may in its own territory. The attacks by the Druids
    were nothing less than an act of war, a ruthless
    attack on innocent and unarmed factory workers and
    loggers that left women widowed and children
    fatherless. It is little wonder that the people rose
    up against the oppressive druidics."

    (Drunk with power, victorious over the peoples and
    forces of reason, they chose to willfully abuse the
    very magic that had made them strong, and to hand the
    secrets of its power over to those who should never
    have been allowed to even know of such things.)

    - - -

    A man and a gnome are sitting, facing the hideous
    visage of a great orc, and a small grinning kobold.
    The man speaks:

    ‘This is the new gatling gun, with Permanency and
    Haste, and with bullets augmented with explosive
    ‘Here is the secret of mass producing the new rifle.
    With this weapon, you can kill your opponents at
    thousands of yards, and their arrows cannot touch
    ‘Here is how you build a factory to mass produce
    weapons of war ...’

    He hands the weapons to the orc and kobold, and shows
    them extensive schematics.

    ‘Here is how to make Permanency effective over and
    over, without cost to yourself.’
    ‘Here are the secrets of magic, which have been
    wrongfully withheld from you.’
    ‘Here is how to cast high powered spells.’
    ‘Here is how to combine magic with science.’

    A new image appears. It is like a Nibelungen cavern,
    for it is full of the den and uproar those dwarves
    would make.
    But it is kobolds who are making this den, as they
    work in the hellish uproar of a great underground war
    factory. Magical blades, magical bullets, magic
    firearms, magical armor, and a number of
    unrecognizable oddities are all being made, while
    kobolds gloat over them, grin over them, and peer over
    The scene shifts, and now an orcish city is seen. It
    is worse than the human cities ... they didn’t even
    bother to build tenements for their workers, and most
    live in huts.
    But their factories tower into the sky, unleashing
    ungodly torrents of smoke, and from those factories
    come great vehicles mounted on the twin rails, and
    huge versions of the arquebus, over 10 feet long, are
    sitting on them. The orcs jump and howl with glee as
    their first magical artillery rolls out the door.

    "My, my, our dear friend the Wanderer sure enjoys his
    repetition does he not? These images occured in our
    past! This is not the way the UC operates! It will
    never be, ever again. Might I, once again, reiterate
    the fact that the humanoids came to the aid of the
    Technocracy with nothing but honourable intentions?
    Yes, I believe I shall: The Humanoid Alliance never,
    ever, raised a hand in the direction of their
    technocratic allies. It was a time of great war, a
    hegemonic war, a war that would result in the entire
    world of Toril taking one of two paths:

    "That of Progress, of Modernity, of Mutual Prosperity;
    and that of Stagnation, of Inequality, of Mutual

    (Those that should have stopped them, failed in their
    duties. And when the illithid, aroused by the turmoil
    Above, choose to make themselves masters of the
    Underdark, nobody even bothered to look for the danger
    until it was upon them, and they were slaughtered.)

    - - -

    The Chosen of Mystra sits in her dressing room,
    peering at herself in the mirror. She looks gaunt and
    sad, and is holding a sheath of papers.
    On those papers, is a long list, the list of druids
    and elves slain by the gnomes and humans of the
    Technomancy, as it now calls itself, and by the new
    and greatly feared Humanoid Alliance.
    She shakes her head, and says: ‘We must not interfere.
    We must allow the world to make it’s own choices, for
    good or evil. We shall not stop this thing.’

    The scene flashes to a drow city 2 miles below her.
    The drow are being slaughtered, the mind flayers
    (illithid) are blasting them, incinerating them,
    blowing their brains out, devouring those they can
    Soon all the drow city is in ruins, and the last
    survivors are rounded up by the illithid, and march
    off as mindless automatons under illithid mental

    The great House of Baenre falls, and Narbondel breaks
    in half and falls, shattering, shards flying
    everywhere. Menzoberranzan is whelmed by the illithid.

    Blingdenstone, the home of the Svirfneblin, lays
    silent and empty, no remaining life in the ruins,
    every last gnome carried off to the illithid cities.
    The priestesses of Ghaunadaur fall to illithid mental
    power, and their servants, the puddings and oozes,
    halt, and acknowledge the overlordship of their new
    masters, the illithid, supreme rulers of the

    "Those that died are honoured for their courage to
    stand for what they believed in... This is a
    universality in the UC. If one was to bother to put
    things into perspective, the evil Illithid acted on
    their own volition and were destroyed by Technocracy
    and the Humanoid Alliance, saving all of Toril in the

    (Their path led to the ruin and multilation of Faerun.
    In that ruin, even those peoples of reason and lore
    were pulled down into folly and darkness. Amongst the
    technomancers who had perpetrated this wreckage, no
    act of madness was now beyond their scope of thought.)

    - - -

    The dwarf king roars in anger: ‘The elves started this
    trouble. I want Queen Amlaruil of Evermeet and all her
    mages brought here so they can be tried, properly
    found guilty, then drawn and quartered! Do you hear
    The elven emissary gasps, and states: ‘That is not
    reasonable, m’lord. The elves are victims of this war
    The king glares. ‘Bring me the Queen, or face the
    wrath of the dwarves!’
    The elven emissary looks offended, and says ‘I shall
    depart now, and come back when you will be courteous
    and have thought upon the matter, and realized that
    what you ask is impossible and unjust.’
    The dwarven king jumps to his feet in anger, points at
    the emissary, and states ‘I want him taken, chained
    up, and given 50 lashes. I want it done now.’
    The elven emissary looks horrified and shocked. ‘I am
    a diplomat. Have the dwarves chosen to throw aside all
    The dwarven king roars ‘Make it a hundred lashes, and
    to the bone. If he starts to die, heal him! Then throw
    him out the front gate to rot!’

    The flogging is carried out, the dwarves grim and
    strangely eager to the task, and the screams are
    deafening. What is left of the elf is tossed outside
    the Gates, which then slam shut.

    "It should be known that though the elves of this era
    believed themselves to be victims, it is the belief of
    many scholars, elven scholars included, that the elves
    did not act out of the goodness of their hearts. Their
    invocation of Karsus' Avatar ((?)) led to the death
    and injury of millions of men, women, and children, of
    all known races, across the world. It was after that
    act did the dwarves demand that the elves be held
    responsible for the deaths of so many dwarves for it
    was the elves that did do these things. For good or
    ill, justice needed to be served, and it was..."

    When the battle is over, they doff their helmets, and
    the hideous visages of orcs, bugbears, kobolds,
    gnolls, every kind of humanoid in some unholy harmony,
    are seen.

    "At the time, the Technocracy had nothing to do with
    the annihilation of the elves of Evereska et al. We
    did not condone the action at all, but of course, the
    wise and all-knowing Wanderer once again failed to
    show you that..."

    The Faerie. But they are leaving. Pearly gates open,
    the Faerie step through, and the Gates close behind
    them ... forever.
    By the hundreds, by the thousands, the Faerie, many
    mourning and weeping, are leaving.
    The very lifeblood of the world is stricken, the Weave
    falters, the forests are permanently less verdant and
    green, the power of life is forever diminished.

    The elves of Evermeet ... but now they are in
    underground caverns, cavorting and dancing and
    feasting as elves do ... with their new friends the
    orcs, gnolls, bugbears, kobolds, and all the others.
    The daughter of Queen Amlaruil, beautiful and radiant,
    kneels before the great orc king, and kisses him on
    the feet. Then he sweeps her up in his arms and kisses
    her deeply, his body pressed to hers.
    With a cheer and a roar, dozens of others do the same.

    Bugbears sweep up elven women in their arms, elven
    women clasp kobolds lovingly, elven and humanoid faces
    stare at each other lovingly, and there is comradery
    and merriment ... and many children.
    Half elf half orc. Half elf half bugbear. Half elf
    half kobold. One third elf one third orc one third
    kobold. One quarter orc one quarter goblin one quarter
    flind one quarter ogre.
    A great dance begins, as elves and humanoids swing
    their partners around in glee, and the orc king sits
    with his elven concubine in his arms (she is totally
    naked, along with three quarters of the crowd),
    fondling her, while she grins and giggles.

    Over all are two statues. One is of Father Grumsh, the
    Wise Old Sage, venerated by all elves and humanoids,
    and Mother Sehanine, the Mysterious, who all humanoids
    and elves venerate for magic and psionics.
    Well, actually - only a few venerate these two. Most
    of the elves and humanoids abandoned their respective
    religions long ago.

    The temples of the Seldarine lay silent and empty.
    They were not laid to rest with care, but were looted
    and ransacked, and the sacred shrines defiled.
    More importantly, it was the elves who did this.
    Elven swords hacked down the statue of Corellon, even
    arrows are embedded in the great murals, and elven
    swear words and curses are written on the walls and
    the shattered altars.

    "By the Gods, how racist this Wanderer fellow is! Had
    the idea that the Humanoids and the Elves, after a
    lengthy period of peace-making, become great friends
    and allies ever cross his narrow mind? If the growth
    of two peoples for the good of the entire world is to
    be hated on your world, then perhaps the UC should
    have nothing to do with it. But, unlike the Wanderer,
    the United Commonwealth has more sense then that, we
    are fully aware of the great potential all peoples, be
    they elf, human, dwarf or humanoid, have deep within
    them. I can only hope that their advances will serve
    as an example for all like-minded peoples."

    (In the new world the gnomes and technomancers had
    created, depravity became the norm)

    A great cathedral, complete with stained glass
    windows, looms all about.
    The sunlight shines down upon the congregation.
    The congregation, is having an orgy.
    But this is not just any orgy; this is an orgy of the
    Church of Toril.

    Mind flayers are using their tentacles to pleasure
    women. Beholders are being stroked along the eyestalks
    by loving dwarven hands, even as the Beholders kiss
    each other and those on the floor, licking with their
    long tongues.
    Kender giggle in the background, stealing everything
    as they move through the crowd, pointing out (as if it
    needed pointing out) in eloquent detail each new scene
    they witness.
    Several ogres are present, wearing girdles of giant
    strength. They are quite popular.
    Even more popular are the half reptilian Yuan-Tin,
    with their long snake-like tongues that give a new
    definition to the words french kissing.
    An aboleth is present, and is serving as a carpet for
    two lovers, who are busy with each other even as the
    aboleth fondles them with it’s many tentacles.
    It would appear several undead are present - their
    cold embrace is a novelty to the living, and spectral
    figures merge with the warm, living ones.
    Even a few skeletons are present, drawing their long
    bony hands up and down the backs of those present,
    sending delicious tingles up and down the spines of
    men and women.

    Meanwhile, the high priests and priestesses are having
    a private romp of their own.
    A human woman wraps herself in magically altered Grey
    Ooze, and as it pours into her mouth and other places
    she convulses with pleasure (breathing apparently is
    optional), and it would seem the Ooze itself is
    radiating a sense of delight of it’s own.
    The halfling woman prefers the Black Pudding. Its
    thousands of tiny microscopic mouths are giving her
    thousands of tiny nibbles, from head to toe, like a
    thousand kisses on her flesh, and she croons with the
    joy of it.
    The elven woman yonder prefers the classic, high style
    version: the Ochre Jelly. As it pours into her every
    orifice, she cries out in delight, trying to wrap her
    arms around it as it encases her in it’s gooey
    Men, women, slimes, jellies, and oozes all meld with
    each other, merge with each other in joyous passion.
    Of course, the succubi and even a few erinye are
    present, with all that entails, and they are a
    definite hit with the men ... and the women.
    Cries of passion and cries of pain compete with each
    other for dominance in the air, which is thick with
    reddish incense; powerful aphrodasiacs working upon
    the lungs and minds of all in the room.

    Particularly angered by these descriptions, the Prime
    Minister stands up quickly and bangs her fist on the
    table. Tears welling up in her eyes, she draws in a
    deep breath. Panning out, the cameras pick up a giant
    orc moving to reassure her. The Prime Minister raises
    her hand in his direction and smiles meekly, "No
    friend, I am fine."

    Exhaling deeply, she opens her eyes and peers deeply
    into the cameras, sitting down. "How dare you
    trivialize our most sacred beliefs, Wanderer. Would I
    make fun of the rituals of your religions? Have I
    ridiculed your beliefs in all their ignorance and
    arrogance?!" Settling down, she continues, "If I were
    to choose between a society that venerates killing,
    destruction and inequality; and a society that
    worships life, passion, equality, and most importantly
    love, there would be no choice in the matter.

    "None at all."

    The gnome is standing at a pupit, giving a speech, in
    which he is explaining the basics of ... well, it is
    gibberish really (quantum physics).
    An audience of learned sages, illithid, a number of
    phaerimm with beholder servants, humanoids, githyanki,
    and other assorted beings are present, listening.
    When the diminuitive gnome is finished, they all stand
    and applaud him, even the phaerimm.
    Now, you are inside the gnome’s head, hearing his
    thoughts, as he watches them applaud, and he is
    thinking ‘We have shown that we are superior to all of
    them, we gnomes, and they appreciate this now. About
    You are now inside the head of one of the phaerimm,
    whose magic and genius is legendary. And it is
    thinking ‘It is a privilege to learn at the feet of he
    who holds the Seat of Academia. If only I could
    actually get to meet the distinguished professor, that
    would be very nice.’

    "Unlike the ignorance of the Wanderer, it has become
    obvious that the only thing in the way of true
    knowledge are other people, and the culture of those
    people. I find nothing at all wrong with a gnome more
    voiced than a Phaerimm in the ways of the physical
    sciences, and I applaud the gentle Phaerimm for his
    will to learn."

    OERTH? IS IT? IS IT??!!

    "I only urge those that this message reaches to use a
    critical eye when viewing any and all mass broadcasts
    such as this... The capability to speak does not
    necessarily mean that nothing but truth will result,
    the same holds true for the Wanderer, and myself. It
    is the sincere hope that any and all of those wishing
    to know the truth will strive to discover it on their
    own. Do not rely on others to tell you the truth for
    it is far too easy to get lost in the rhetoric and
    biases of such people.

    "It should be known that any attacks on the United
    Commonwealth and its allies will be considered an Act
    of War. Though we are not a warmongering people and as
    such, are more than willing to involve ourselves in a
    discource with anyone willing to sit down and talk...

    "In the future, I will return to you all with
    questions, ideas and propositions. It is my hope that
    you will keep an open mind in these matters. Believe
    what can be proved, not what is said...

    "Thank you."

  3. #123
    Shadow Empire gives technology to entire Underdark`s Alliance, npt only Kalanyr1


    We thought you know us quite well sice we are in aliiance! You have already received great gifts from us! We will help you conquer entire Ulek and more!

    To Iuz The Old One:

    We might be interested in alliance if you help us against our enemies( attack The Kevellond League) and we won`t attack Cairn Hills for now!

    TO Edena- Shade are summoning planar allies from Gehenna, Shadow Plane and Negative energy Plane. We offer them technology and souls of our enemies and slaves!

    We also raise undead from City of Greyhawk cementary!

  4. #124


    "It should be known that any attacks on the United
    Commonwealth and its allies will be considered an Act
    of War. Though we are not a warmongering people and as
    such, are more than willing to involve ourselves in a
    discource with anyone willing to sit down and talk... "
    Pray tell, noble leader, who are your allies here on Oerth?

  5. #125

    Re: Forrester

    Originally posted by Serpenteye
    "It should be known that any attacks on the United
    Commonwealth and its allies will be considered an Act
    of War. Though we are not a warmongering people and as
    such, are more than willing to involve ourselves in a
    discource with anyone willing to sit down and talk... "
    Pray tell, noble leader, who are your allies here on Oerth?
    (That's what I get for cutting and pasting)

    I believe Erika was referring to our allies in Realmspace (like the scro) or our allies on Toril (like the Angels of the Isle of Hope). The Wanderer is attempting to provoke an attack against Toril -- obviously, we prefer peace, and mutual advancement, but should you fall for his lies, let it be known we are ready to defend ourselves.

  6. #126
    That is well. Does this mean that you will not enter into any conflict internal to Oerth? Unless some fool attacked realmspace first?

  7. #127
    Acolyte (Lvl 2)

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    The Envoy form Iuz would like to know the answer to this as well.

  8. #128
    <Forrester -- not Erika -- now speaks.>

    Yes, I'm sure you would like to know the answer.

    Unfortunately, it depends on the success of the City of Shade in making allies. They belong on Oerth no more than we do; as long as they are a presence, our intervention can hardly be ruled out. And they have already taken Greyhawk.

    We have no taste for war -- yet, we cannot let our enemies casually take control of an entire world.

    Were they to be expelled, then perhaps promises could be made . . . until then, though, all I can say is that we will wait, and watch.

    Certainly, you brave and noble men can hammer out a peace?

  9. #129
    JohnBrown are you interested in alliance?

  10. #130
    Originally posted by Forrester
    <Forrester -- not Erika -- now speaks.>

    Yes, I'm sure you would like to know the answer.

    Unfortunately, it depends on the success of the City of Shade in making allies. They belong on Oerth no more than we do; as long as they are a presence, our intervention can hardly be ruled out. And they have already taken Greyhawk.

    We have no taste for war -- yet, we cannot let our enemies casually take control of an entire world.

    Were they to be expelled, then perhaps promises could be made . . . until then, though, all I can say is that we will wait, and watch.

    Certainly, you brave and noble men can hammer out a peace?

    Rest assured, Forrester, the Shade Imperium will never take control of the entirety of Oerth. They certainly could never do so casually! Oerth can guard itself against that.

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