Friday, November 28
Tuesday, November 25
Read it! Read it NOW!
Monday, November 24
Second, I notice some of my fellow Steelheaders seem to be butting heads as of late. Before we pull out the claws, fangs, and steampowered elephants can't we at least sit down and try to work out our differences? (Yes, that's coming from me of all people!)
Third, I'm experimenting with a new event at Port Novem on Fridays. I have three words for you: Saddle Mountain Roundup.
Thursday, November 20
You are The Magician
Skill, wisdom, adaptation. Craft, cunning, depending on dignity.
Eleoquent and charismatic both verbally and in writing,
you are clever, witty, inventive and persuasive.
The Magician is the male power of creation, creation by willpower and desire. In that ancient sense, it is the ability to make things so just by speaking them aloud. Reflecting this is the fact that the Magician is represented by Mercury. He represents the gift of tongues, a smooth talker, a salesman. Also clever with the slight of hand and a medicine man - either a real doctor or someone trying to sell you snake oil.
What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.
Tuesday, November 18
Monday, November 17
There has been a sighting of an individual that appears and claims to be a child Jager. From what I have read of the Jagerbrau, which has never been imported into this dimension, this would constitute one impossibility upon another.
The existence of an immature Jager assumes:
1) A female Jager (A rarity in itself I am told, but they are abundant in the Grid. Perhaps they are here because of poor treatment back in Europa?)
2) Said female drank the Jagerbrau while she was unknowingly with child. (Only the best soldiers dare to drink the potion. This raises uncomfortable questions regarding military conduct...)
3) Female Jager survives the transformation. (Only a 10% chance according to the Professors Foglio.)
4) Embryo survives the transformation of the mother and its own life-pattern.
Datum: According to the Professors Foglio, couplings of male Jagers with human females sire completely normal human children. This suggests a lack of mutagenic properties from mother to child as well, and negates the possibility that the Jager factor was inherited from the father.
5) Given the extended Jager lifespan, how old would a Jager seeming to be in its early teens actually be?
No information exists on whether a Jager couple will have Jager children. Presumably they are too busy fighting for the Wulfenbachs or searching for the True Heterodyne heir to actually settle down. The fact that the one Jager I have spoken to thus far is still incredulous about the subject speaks volumes in itself.
Much like the case of the supposed Heterodyne with the Geisters in thrall, there is more to this case than meets the eye. We must get to the bottom of this.
Friday, November 14
After the Iron Citadel was disintegrated by the the Bloodwing Comet, the warlords (who had been quislings to the Obsidian King until the roar of the comet drowned out their orders to sacrifice themselves) turned to thoughts of power and greed immediately after the shockwave dissipated.
Weapons were banned by Hades in the Imperial sector except by his personal guard. However, a secret of Ereb'ai architecture was revealed by the tortenic blast. In the Age of Myth, warriors propped their spears against each other and laid shields and animal skins over them for shelter. Beholden to that ancient tradition, whenever an Ereb'ai soldier retired to an existence of municipal servitude, his weapons and armor were interred in the walls of the structure to wish he was assigned.
The spikes and blades that bristled imposingly from modern bureaucratic towers were laid bare. After a few seconds of the ominous echoes of groaning metal, thousands of years of perfectly preserved weapons and armor rained down from a burning sky in a hail of steel from the crumbling towers. That sliver of the fast and strong who survived the collapse found the inventory for conquest in the mountains of rubble surrounding them!
Ministries of veterans cleared their throats to bellow forgotten battle-cries again as they returned to the path of War. After the obligatory in-fighting, new banners were raised. As soldiers from the defunct Ministry of Tributes slaughtered the remains of the Ministry of Servitude, the stealthy agents of the Imperial Messengers Guild wound their way through what landmarks remained of the capital to the edge of the crater.
With much trepidation they scoured the bowl of destruction in their search through howling gales of flame and soot, prodding unrecognizable twisted hulks for the remains of either the King or the mad Prince. To my knowledge, they found no trace of either.
In the midst of their exploration, they arrived at the edge of the turbulent lake of molten slag at the epicenter. As soon as the first shrieking head of the Hydra emerged from the glowing pool, it arched into the air as high as the rim of the crater on a neck of barbed scales. The girth of the beast's neck surpassed that of the towers in which the doomed explorers had so recently toiled. After the beast descended upon a platoon and swallowed them with a snap of its hissing jaws, three more heads rose from the lake and claimed all of them. Except myself.
I can only assume the Hydra was still weak from the impact and content with less than complete meal of a hastily gathered army. This former humble servant of the Imperial Messengers Guild by the auspices of Fate became the sole survivor of that Doomed Patrol. Having been elevated by default from Private to General, I made my first executive decision to Retreat. As the rest of the warlords' brigades stood dumbfounded at the crater's edge, I hoisted myself back up the ledge and suggested we set out rivalries aside until the issue of the Hydra was resolved. In the space of a few moments the pact was made.
I then proposed that outside agencies be called to assist. There is a saying in Erebus. If your first idea is brilliant, your second idea is your doom. I could have fought to become the new Obsidian King, but instead I am exiled. I was marched out of Erebus by spearpoint in humiliation to beg the aid of the Council. That I have done. Now I, Lado Nestyevet, sole survivor of the Imperial Messengers Guild of the Court of Erebus, do reclaim my Honor in the glory of completion of this, my final mission!
[An armored Ereb'ai soldier kneels by the scroll case. When touched, the armor collapses, revealing the ashes and bones of the deceased within.]
Thursday, November 13
Wednesday, November 12
Monday, November 10
I am no Sorceror Supreme. Her first build as Qlippothic was guided by the Founder's corrupting influence. Later, the clockwork vampire Aleister rebuilt her in his own image.
What form will you take this time, my daughter? How much of my Spark will I sacrifice to rebuild you? Will it be all I have left? Then so be it.
Sunday, November 9
The Lindens through their characteristic opaqueness have created unrealistic expectations, and now that they are enforcing their will they are disrupting those commnities that profited from the status quo.
All I can say is...keep protesting. As they say, three concessions equal a revolution.
Further, they need to realise the rest if the MMO community is rapidly catching up to them. I signed up for the Gatheryn beta, just in case.
P.S. Thanks to Evad Babii for clearing up some of the terminology for me.
Wednesday, November 5
Perhaps the "old man" should move his operations to Rivet Town. The very fact that their Mayor has a mind-controlled clone as a media representative sends chills down my spine.
Watch them carefully, my friends. Should their leader get too greedy he may try to "liberate" the rest of Neo-Victoria under his iron fist!
Monday, November 3
No need to panic, my hemovoric friends! The sunlight won't hurt you! Just put these goggles on! Come to Oxbridge! Come towards the STEAM!
Sunday, November 2
Innumerable thanks to Miss Lily Nightfire, the proprietress of Port Novem, who not only made the move possible but decided to become my neighbor as well!
[When and if you return, Brother, you shall see your life reassembled for you. And I am not finished yet.]
Saturday, November 1
Regency Hospital has shifted to triage operations. I have called opn all Blood...Mason family members to assist in guiding the populations to safety.
I call upon Guvna Shang to re-establish order in the Independent State. If the current order cannot be maintained, then a new one shall surely rise from the ashes.