[Gillar's Scrapbook] Diary of a Madman

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[Gillar's Scrapbook] Diary of a Madman

Postby Gillar on December 23rd, 2011, 2:02 am

Alright, so I have given some insight into my idea of Rhysol and The Voice, now I want to talk about the Black Sun and the Ebonstryfe. There seems to be, at least to me, some confusion as to what each really is and how they are different not only from one another but also how they differ from the general idea of an evil organization.

The Black Sun

In the process of developing Rhysol, Ravok and The Voice, I wanted to also detail the followers of this duo. I didn't want the traditional evil organization composed of a bunch of thugs nor did I want a strictly fanatical group of zealots who simply obeyed their deity simply out of fear or thirst for power and wealth. While those elements would certainly play some role to some extent in my then developmental idea, I wanted something more. Thus came the Black Sun. The Black Sun, as I see it, is not only a group of faithful worshipers but also something of a way of life. The Black Sun is led by The Voice, headquartered at The Temple of the Black Sun in Ravok and serves not only as the center of Rhysol's faith but also the center of government for all of Ravok. In Ravok, the Black Sun does not need to strong arm the populace in order to gain loyalty. They gain loyalty from constant indoctrination through propaganda and preaching. They play on the public's inherent fear and distrust without the need to inspire it. The majority of the city looks to the Black Sun for guidance and leadership; they do not look at the Black Sun as being corrupt, evil or dangerous.

The Black Sun isn't content however with isolating their influence only to Ravok. They seek to expand Rhysol's influence over the world and spread his will throughout the land. They don't do this by conquering or physically intimidating others to follow Rhysol; that would go against everything they strive to achieve. Instead, they send Acolytes and Agents far across the land to other cities. These Chaon (marked followers of Rhysol), infiltrate various aspects of society and become integral members of the local society. They become politicians, aides and merchants. They gain the trust of others and slowly sew the seeds of dissent. They whisper words of betrayal in the ears of others, slowly creating doubt and paranoia. They sabotage efforts toward peace and harmony, they nip away at ordered structure from within. All of this is done under the guise of an individual who genuinely cares about the system they are a part of. Hardly ever are they directly responsible for death, destruction or any other act of villainy within the place they have infiltrated. The Chaon only influence others, little by little, to do all of the damage on their own.

NEVER will you hear a Chaon preach the evil of Rhysol or threaten others into servitude. While they may preach for Rhysol, it is always with a positive spin that may make others doubt their existing belief structure. Even then, they only preach to those who already have faith in Rhysol or who may be open to the notion.

Rhysol could never be as powerful as he is without these methods employed by the Black Sun as he is but one of a very small pantheon of evil deities. Their insidious methods of influence, their ability to turn one person against another without ever directly causing it, that gives The Defiler his power and influence over the world.

So how does The Black Sun differ from The Ebonstryfe? Here are my thoughts on it:

The Ebonstryfe

The Ebonstryfe is a part of the Black Sun but also an entity of its own. Where the Black Sun is more hands-off in their approach, the Ebonstryfe is more hands-on, to an extent anyway. In a city such as Ravok, where an unstable god of chaos rules, there needs to be a counterweight. The Voice is a large part of that counterweight but even with the intense propaganda spread by the Black Sun, there still needs to be that underlying hand that can rise up and slap down those needing it when the time arises. The Ebonstryfe is the Black Sun's secret police force. They spread out in Ravok and listen. They keep tabs on potential dissidents and remove them when things become too unstable. Ironically, the Ebonstryfe also has a hand at injecting a little instability into the society of Ravok. They may even aid a dissident to an extent, offer hidden support against allies and rivals alike just to help enforce the Black Sun's preaching of the dangers inherent in this new, post-Valterrian world.

The Ebonstryfe has a hand in nearly every aspect of Ravok. I see them being somewhat similar to the old Chicago mafia complete with influential families, crime rings and the like. The catch is however that their work in Ravok is dual-purpose in that they knowingly work to create and support the very thing they also try to fight. They are the police force and the criminal masterminds in one.

That brings me to the Ebonstryfe's role outside of Ravok. Rhysol realizes that he is but one god against dozens of others. He is powerful yet that hold on power could slip at any moment. I asked myself, what would a god such as Rhysol do to maintain a grip on his status as one of the most feared gods in existence? The answer came to me when Tarot created, Monsters, Fragments, Relics, etc. Those all possessed pieces of divine beings now gone from the world. What if Rhysol were to gather those pieces together and find a way to use their inherent divinity, no matter how slight, to bolster his own. That is where the Ebonstryfe come into play. One of the Ebonstryfe's primary missions outside of Ravok is to gather fragments from across the land and return them to Rhysol. To do this, the need for a militant force is required as Mizahar is not an empty lot filled with a few rocks and trees; maybe a puddle or two. It is a vast landscape filled with all manner of strange encounters, untold dangers and certain death to the unprepared. The Ebonstryfe are trained not only in the nuances of secrecy, corruption and betrayal but are also trained in the arts of combat. They serve in similar roles to the Black Sun in that they infiltrate and spread dissent throughout ordered systems but they also serve a more combative role as well.

The Ebonstryfe maintains patrols around Ravok, keeping tabs on anyone or anything entering the nearby area while also actively searching for anything that could be of use to Rhysol. They send out units to explore pre-Valterrian ruins, hunt the various fragments and monsters that inhabit the land. They work to establish shrines to Rhysol; places that serve as a focus point for his influence outside of the view of the average humanoid. One may find a single Chaon of the Black Sun accompanied by a unit of Ebonstryfe as they hunt down a fragment or work to establish a shrine. Somewhere else, an Ebonstryfe soldier may be an upstanding merchant in the heart of Syliras; someone who nobody would suspect is gradually sewing the seeds of chaos through the cursed trinkets they sell.

As with the Black Sun, the Ebonstryfe, even those who are not engaged in infiltration and impersonation, will never acknowledge that they are an evil organization working for a mad god bent of spreading chaos throughout the world. To soldiers of the Ebonstryfe, they are simply doing what is needed to survive. They believe they are giving back to a god who provides protection, security and strength; all which Rhysol indeed blesses them with in his own way. They do not feel that they are destroying the lives of others for the sake of causing instability in the land. Instead, they see the world as a terrible place filled with danger and death at every turn; they are doing what is needed to survive in this world and earn the grace shown to them by Rhysol. If others must fall so that they can survive and flourish, then that is the way of things. (All a part of the indoctrination all who serve in the Ebonstryfe and the Black Sun are exposed to from the earliest moments).

Hopefully this bit of insight into my intentions for these groups is helpful. I know there is a lot of question as to what these groups are and what one can do to fit into them. Maybe this will help and if there is any questions remaining, I am always willing to answer.
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[Gillar's Scrapbook] Diary of a Madman

Postby Gillar on December 23rd, 2011, 10:48 pm

Mentioned throughout my previous posts about Rhysol, The Voice, the Ebonstryfe and the Black Sun was Ravok. I think Ravok also suffers from a bit of confusion in regards to what the city is actually like. What does one experience when they first step foot into the city? I'm going to try and give you all an idea of what I see when I imagine Ravok.

After gaining passage aboard the ferry at the Southern Trading Post, I stood quietly as the ferry; a large, shallow bottomed boat with a handful of oarsmen on either side, transported me across Lake Ravok. The lake itself was immense; I couldn't see the city from my vantage point just off the outer banks. More of a small sea than a lake, Lake Ravok was quite a sight. The water was calm near the shore though oddly enough, things did not grow tumultuous the further we traveled from land. It is said that Rhysol blesses the lake with calm waters; protecting the citizens of Ravok from the natural elements that could send them to a watery grave otherwise.

The ferryman was quiet as we traveled; I was one of a small handful of people traveling to the city. A citizen of Ravok, I enjoyed no small amount of respect when compared to a couple of the other people also on board the ferry. From what I learned at the Southern Trading Post, they were visitors of some sort. There was nothing all that special looking about them and I didn't really give them any further thought; I doubted they would last long enough in the city for me to even care to begin with.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed, an hour, maybe two when the first good view of the city was available. It was early morning and the sounds of the docks could be heard even before details could really be seen. As the ferry approached the docks, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty even though I had made the trip dozens of times for work at the Trading Post. Small trading vessels of various sizes; all designed to transport cargo to and from various points on the lake's outer shores, floated lazily in the water. A winding boardwalk lined the docks while white stone buildings lined the boardwalk. Taverns, various types of shops and a large host of people went about their daily routines as the ferry grew closer. Though I had to admit, the docks were a bit dirtier than other parts of the city, they were still beautiful in their own way. The white stone buildings complete with fancy balconies, vine covered entrance trellis' and the occasional carved stone pillar created a welcoming atmosphere to all who passed through.

The ferry approached a large stone bridge that spanned one of the main canals that offered a unique entry into the city. Essentially a floating city, Ravok was built from the remains of ships that gathered around a strange black shard that stuck up from the depths of the center of the lake. As word spread of the shard, more and more people came to see it and their ships were eventually used to create the foundation around the shard; the beginning of the Temple of the Black Sun. Over the centuries, the city grew with new structures being built upon old ones and wood mixing with stone. This unique process of construction created a city connected by canals as well as countless narrow streets and alleyways. Bridges of all sizes spanned the canals; offering numerous paths of travel throughout the city. The bridge the ferry passed under was one of the biggest ones. It was covered; the covering supported by an elaborate set of pillars that formed numerous archways along the top of the bridge. Once could see a pair of lovers embracing each other in a hug as they leaned against the stone inside one of the archways; looking out on the water.

A pair of Ravosalas; long, slender, elaborately carved boats steered by a pilot wielding a long pole, passed by the ferry as it slowly moved under the bridge. These were the main form of transport through the larger canals of the city. There was nothing quite like spending an evening cruising the canals with a young lady next to you; the soft light of the moon blanketing everything. How good it felt to be home.

The ferry then docked on the other side of the bridge. I took a step up from the ferry onto the boardwalk. A few passing people nodded to me with a couple of them flashing a soft smile; I was somewhat well known in the area. This was in contrast to the outsiders who garnered a few frowns and muttered comments as they too stepped onto the boardwalk. The previous night had been a long one and I was ready to get home and relax. It would take a while yet to get through the city and back home but I always enjoyed the trip. Walking down the boardwalk, I passed by various people from all walks of life. Merchants, street-peddlers, dock-workers, a handful of city guard, women, men, children, everyone went about their business as usual.

From behind, I heard a scream cut short. A quick glance over my shoulder showed one of the outsiders having their throat slit and the body drug off down an alleyway; served them right for not being more prepared. The people around me continued to go about their business as if nothing had happened. When I see things like that happen, I sometimes ask myself why I don't care more. That's about as far as my sympathy goes though. Outsiders, their not like the rest of us, they don't deserve to be here, they don't deserve Rhysol's grace. Moving past the docks, I crossed a small bridge spanning one of the smaller canals. There were a few people standing on the bridge conversing with one another. A young boy passed by one of the people on the bridge, a small hand quickly and quietly reaching into a pouch and pulling a couple coins out before the boy was darting off down a nearby alley. Ah, the joys of youth.

As I walked down the cobbled-stone road, I couldn't help but marvel at the buildings around me. To those not of Ravok, the city may look a bit cramped and crowded. To me and in fact to most citizens I knew, the roads were perfectly wide enough, the alleyways comforting as long as you knew where you were and weren't supposed to be. The tall buildings, their white wash, beautiful trellises and carved archways filled me with a sense of pride. I had heard outsiders at the Post sometimes comment, without having entered Ravok, that the city was a dank, dirty pit of crime. That it was filled with gambling, prostitution and all manner of debauchery. At those moments, it was obvious just how ignorant they really were.

Was Ravok free of all of those things? Of course not. We had our share of crime. If you're not a citizen, you have no rights in Ravok. You are not one of us so don't expect to be treated like one. If you are an outsider and become a victim of "crime", then you weren't as prepared as you should have been to enter our city. Did people gamble? Sure they did but don't they everywhere? The people in Ravok aren't all rich and powerful. We make our living the best we can, sometimes anyway we can. There were brothels, I had been to a few. They were clean, luxurious and welcoming; some even had their own healers and all had their own security just in case things got a little out of hand. I've even heard outsiders comment on slavery. They can't believe that slavery is allowed in the city. Slavery? Not everyone is born equal in this world. If you can't stand up for yourself, someone is going to stand ON you. It's just the way of things. I mean, slaves, their provided with a place to sleep, food to eat and protection from those who would otherwise harm them. In return, they give their masters pleasure, clean their homes and do what needs to be done around the house. Fair trade if you ask me. I mean, even slaves are considered citizens. Our city wasn't dirty. Hell, we have slaves tasked just to keep the streets clean; that's all they do, all day long is clean. Damn fine job of it if you ask me, most of the time anyway.

As I silently talked to myself, I noted the passing from the Docks to the Merchant's Ring. See, the city is laid out in a pattern of rings. On the outside, there's the Docks. That's where those with lesser wealth live and work. The next ring inside of that is the Merchant's Ring where the city's merchants have their warehouses, shops and related buildings. Inside of that is the Noble's District. That's where the high and mighty live; those who are a part of wealthy and/or influential families within the city. It's a pretty plush place to be. Finally, you got the City Center with all the government buildings, the Vitrax and the Temple of the Black Sun.

Now in the Merchant's Ring, I could hear the pounding of a hammer from a nearby forge. The buildings here were not as tall; usually only a single story. Large doors offered entry and exit for carts bringing supplies in for storage or transporting it out to somewhere else in the city. Wagons were plentiful here; pulled by slave and sometimes horse. On the outskirts of the Merchant Ring where it bordered the Docks, there were shops of all kinds. One could find a tailor next to a blacksmith next to an art dealer. Anything anyone would ever want could be found here. As I made my way through the Merchant Ring on my way to the Noble Quarter, I passed by a man dressed in black armor; the symbol of the Ebonstryfe on his cloak. I smiled at him as he passed. Though sometimes found like he was, dressed in obvious Ebonstryfe attire, you usually never saw them openly displaying who they were unless they were on their way out of the city for patrol duty or taking part in the occasional parade that was sometimes held during various city celebrations. It was always an honor to see a soldier dressed in armor. Catching glimpse of a Paladin is even more inspiring. It's like being able to look upon a piece of Rhysol in the flesh.

I forgot how long the walk could be from the docks as I entered the Noble District. It's like the difference between night and day when you come out of the Merchant Ring into the Noble District. The roads really open up wide, the buildings are even cleaner with beautiful, graceful architecture, statues and carvings found almost everywhere. Small, forested parks are scattered here and there and nobles dressed in luxurious, exotic clothing can be seen making there way from place to place doing the things nobles do. I passed by a slave wearing a gold collar adorned with red gems signifying his being owned by one of the nobles. Every slave bore a symbol of their master; usually a collar of some sort.

My trek home finally brought me through the Noble District and to the city center. I passed by the Vitrax, headquarters of the great Ebonstryfe. Nearby was Fort Chrysone, the fortified outpost housing the city guard. Passing these, I continued on. The City Center looked similar to the Noble District although it was more formal looking with a bit less luxury to it. It was much more open than any of the other parts of the city. Especially the great square where I now found myself. The square surrounded the Temple of the Black Sun. This was home. Heading up to the main gates, a pair of the temple guards stood watch. They offered me entrance and I continued through. The temple was something of a maze yet after a year or so, I knew the passageways by heart. My destination had finally come when I opened the door and stepped inside. There, waiting for me, was my priestess; one of The Voice's top ones. I immediately knelt at her feet as she smiled.

"Mistress, your messages have been delivered as you wished." I said, unable to hide my love for her.

My priestess ran her fingers through my hair, down my neck to the jeweled collar that surrounded it.

"Well done. Now get in bed, I am in need of tending to." She whispered with a smile.

I quickly obeyed. Yes, Ravok was a wonderful place to live and life there could not be topped.


Hopefully you enjoyed my little look into Ravok. Ravok is not a dank, dirty cesspool of crime and disgust. It is a beautiful city, safe if you know where to go and what to do and the people are filled with a sense of pride for their home. Even the slaves, many of them educated, are proud (not all of them of course and certainly not right away). On the surface, the city looks and feels like an ideal place to live. Few, if any of the general population has any notion that Rhysol, The Black Sun or the Ebonstryfe are anything other than symbols of greatness, love and protection. The city is clean and the people are content. Of course there is so much more behind it all; so much more that takes place in the shadows and behind closed doors but overall, Ravok is alluring and exotic, luxurious and inviting.

It would not serve Rhysol or his faithful followers to present an image of darkness and evil. Thus Ravok would not be a city if people were not attracted to it in some way. I mean, who wants to live in a dirty, crime-filled cesspool of violence and filth? A beautiful city of luxury, excess that is safe, clean and where the people are proud is the perfect lure to bring others into the fold.
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[Gillar's Scrapbook] Diary of a Madman

Postby Clandestine Duplais on February 1st, 2012, 1:02 am

Hmm I enjoyed the read. Thank you for giving us all insight to the layout of Ravok.
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[Gillar's Scrapbook] Diary of a Madman

Postby Gillar on April 15th, 2012, 5:27 am

The Zith

So I now find myself wanting to provide a little creator's insight into the Zith. Lately I have noticed some misconceptions of the Zith and decided I would try and clear those up with my own take on the race.

First and foremost, the Zith are not a noble, politically influential, civilized race of beings. They do not act with elegance or social grace and they most definitely are not, in no way, no shape, no relation to socialized, civilized humans. PERIOD! They do not speak like noble humans or even civilized ones. When they do talk to others not of their kind, their tone and the subject matter is simplistic, animalistic and matter-of-factly.

Now that I have said rather bluntly what Zith aren't, it is probably going to be easier to describe what they are. The Zith, having been created from humans, have instinctual embraced the darker instincts often repressed by most of civilized humanity. The term bestial is often associated with teh Zith however they do possess an extreme sense of curiosity and are renown for their passion for learning that often conflicts with their bestial natures. They learn and adapt rather quickly to new situations and because of this have, over the centuries since the Valterrian, evolved from simple beasts to calculating, very focused hunters. That said, their primary motivations in life are driven by passion and emotion.

The Zith are often violent and unpredictable. They can in one moment, be loving and caring creatures, passionate in both. Another moment, they are brutal, viscous beasts that will try to rip the throats from those they were close to seconds before. They are unpredictable much of the time but have been known to focus their passions and emotions on specific agendas. Such a focus does not end until the task is complete/mastered or something else takes on a greater hold over them.

The whole idea of nobility, superiority and many of the social constructs humanity has created, fails to enter the minds of most zith. Usually, the zith see others as prey or at the very most, see others in terms of how useful they can be to the zith. If for example, the zith come across a beautiful human female, they likely would see her as having potential as a slave for use in all manner of undesirable (to the human) activities. If they instead came across a physically fit human male, a potential slave for labor then presents itself. An overweight, slow, unattractive human, male or female, would likely end up as the zith's next meal. The Zith generally view non-zith in such a way; always judging potential worth in various degrees.

The Zith love to hunt. They revel in causing fear within their prey. They see this as a way of flavoring the meat as it were. Whether or not they kill their prey, enslave it or whatever, the joy of the hunt stands above all else.

As for slaves, the zith are not like the slavemasters of Ravok. They do not mercilessly beat their slaves or otherwise abuse them for the fun of it; not as a rule anyway. They choose slaves based on usefulness. Strong slaves are good for labor. Pretty slaves are good for physical pleasure. Intelligent slaves are good for teaching. Most others are good for food. There is no such thing as a zith keeping a slave that is physically superior to the zith or otherwise threatening in some way. If a slave is seen as being a threat to its master, it is killed and eaten. If the slave is too sick or weak to be of use, it is also killed and eaten. Beyond that, slaves of the zith are more or less well cared for. The zith see it like this, if a slave presents itself as being useful, non-threatening and bares potential, that slave will be cared for like a pet. On the other side of the coin however, if that pet proves to be a threat, sickly or otherwise unnecessary to keep around, it will be removed.

Zith society as it stands, is not all that civilized. Most zith spend their days asleep or engaged in more passive activities that require little energy. At night, the hunt begins. Returning from a hunt, be it successful or otherwise, usually ends up in hours spent having passionate often brutal relations with members of the opposite gender (zith or slave) or contests of strength and skill all in the name of celebration or consolation. In those colonies that maintain slaves, the slaves may perform duties such as teaching various members of the colony a number of different skills. As mentioned, the Zith love to learn and are able to learn rather quickly. They enjoy learning and speaking the common tongue as well as other languages. They enjoy art and various other trade skills. Perhaps it is a lost fragment of their human origins that drives them to seek out knowledge that they would otherwise not possess but whatever it is, the zith love to learn. Slaves also tend to any sort of harvesting of the moss, Salialana, a powerful aphrodisiac. Slaves clean up after the zith and perform many of the duties that slaves in other cultures do. Punishment however for not obeying their masters can have a slave end up being eaten.

Living conditions in most zith colonies is also quite different from outside world. Zith live in caves, caverns and tunnels. They do not live in traditional human households. They do not wear or even own fancy clothes or carry expensive weaponry. They do not sleep in luxurious beds with silk sheets nor do they eat elaborately cooked meals served on plates and cut with knives and forks.

Zith culture is very primitive even though some small trappings of human civilization can be observed scattered here and there. Clothing, if any exists both for zith and slave, is negligible as the zith see little need for it. Formalities in speech and conversation also do not exist. Zith communicate in a language unlearnable by non-zith when engaging one another in speech. Such conversations involve boasting, bragging, demanding, taunting or courting. Involved discussions on philosophy for example, are unheard of in zith society. If a zith communicates with a human, it is usually in the common tongue and occasionally in another human dialect. These conversations are rather simple in content and involve the zith telling the slave what to do and when to do it (usually immediately). Rarely though it does happen, a zith may actually have a slightly more in depth conversation with a favored slave about personal matters however most of the more detailed conversing takes place when a slave is expected to teach and pass on their knowledge and skills to their zith master.

Being the slave of a zith is something of a complex situation. If one is chosen to be a slave over becoming food, they have proven themselves to be of worth. Because of that, the zith will try and make their slave feel as comfortable as possible while instilling in that slave the fact that the zith is the master. This goes back to the idea of a pet. The zith doesn't want their pets to hate them. To the contrary, they want their pets to love them (perhaps some instinctual need passed on through the many generations from the first zith who were once human). While they can be harsh at times, especially toward a disobedient slave, the zith still wish to gain something positive from the slave. As long as the slave does what is expected of them, they will find their lives to be absent of an over-abundance of pain. They generally have security and food as well as some form of companionship. However, older slaves can expect the end to come much sooner while living in slavery among the zith than they would in human society as the zith have no use for elderly, weak slaves.

More to come as I continue pondering :)
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[Gillar's Scrapbook] Diary of a Madman

Postby Gillar on May 24th, 2012, 9:29 pm

The Jamoura

Time again for a little bit of Creator's Insight. This time I will be talking about the Jamoura.

My original idea was to create a race with a focus on knowledge and wisdom. Those two elements, in my mind, were impossible to fully attain unless the race was peaceful with great insight into their own being as well as their environment. Building on those ideas, such a race would require a rather long lifespan to provide enough time to fully understand their own mind, body and the land in which they live. That gave me a basic philosophy concept to work with. Then I thought about what the race should look like. At the time we were developing the races, there were few non-human-like ones existing when compared to the number of human-like ones. This was highly influential in my going with the animal-like appearance. After browsing the net for images to give me some ideas, I narrowed it down to a small handful of possibilities with gorillas standing out above the rest. Their faces are bestial however their eyes seem to hold a much higher intelligence which created the perfect blend for the race I was hoping to create; intelligence, knowledge and wisdom surpassing what appearance may otherwise dictate.

Thus the overall philosophy and physical appearance came to be. The Jamoura, a name I came up with from a mix of varying results on name generators, would become massive gorillas with immense strength, great intelligence and a peaceful demeanor. They would be similar to the image of a Sasquatch although a bit more ape-like in appearance.

I wanted the Jamoura to have something else that made them stand out from all other races. With that in mind, I came up with the idea that the Jamoura acted like a living memory of the world. This evolved into the ability to recollect the past lives the Jamoura experienced before becoming a Jamoura and undergoing the transformation that made them what they are today. From those past lives, the Jamoura was able to remember the past from different perspectives. With the majority of the Jamoura population recollecting varied amounts of information from their varied past lives, they create a library of history surpassing any book; a library that would outlast nearly anything else, even another Valterrian. This was one of the gods gifts to Mizahar after most physical history recordings were lost after the devastation.

The term for this ability is, Reminiscence, and it is next on my list of development. It will be a new discipline of magic available only to the longer lived races though other races may gain it through Help Desk requests. No matter the race, the only way to learn Reminiscence is to be a Jamoura or be taught by a Jamoura. There will be a number of benefits to having this magical skill as well as a few drawbacks and restrictions. More details to come as it is further developed. No requests will be taken for learning it until it is completed.

This now brings me to the perception of the Jamoura and the way some people wish to play them. Most importantly, the Jamoura are not warriors, fighters, combatants, etc., at least not the mainstream Jamorua. Only the Dark Jamoura, those governed by animal instincts, delve into warrior-like mentalities and these Jamoura are very rare as characters and usually don't possess many of the beneficial traits that "normal" Jamoura possess. Jamoura will actively avoid combat whenever possible; preferring to use their vast intelligence and wisdom to outwit potential threats. Just because they are the strongest playable race in the game doesn't make them competent fighters. Add to that the fact that they are really quite slow as far as body movements, they would rather use their natural camouflage to hide from and avoid fighting.

Jamoura may possess a variety of gnosis marks and magic knowledge however magical disciplines such as flux and leeching are almost unheard of. Also nearly non-existent are the gaining of marks from gods such as Krysus, Vayt, Ssena, Sagallius, Uldr and Rhysol (Dark Jamoura being the exception).

When it comes to things like hunting, Jamoura are omnivorous so they indeed eat meat. Hunting attempts usually involve the use of natural camouflage to hide and wait for potential prey. While not very quick, the Jamoura are usually able to catch prey completely by surprise with few creatures capable of withstanding a direct blow from the Jamoura's powerful fists. The Jamoura are highly respectful of those creatures they kill for food and a successful hunt always ends in a prayer to Caiyha and thanks to the animal for providing food. The entire animal is used for its meat, fur, bones, organs, everything.

The bond that the Jamoura have with nature is very deep as is their connection with their own inner beings. Because of this, they are extremely difficult to corrupt even with the use of magic or gnosis (again, Dark Jamoura the exception). The chance of having a Jamoura that is "evil" is next to none. Forced attempts to twist, corrupt or otherwise break the bond the Jamoura have with nature and their own inner connection to everything within themselves and around them, would meet great resistance. The Jamoura would likely die before any attempt such as this would succeed.

Jamoura do not engage in thievery, deception for the sake of deception (they may deceive in order to teach another a lesson or to prevent knowledge from being used irresponsibly), bullying, murder, etc. I imagine on average they would be similar in mentality and action to Yoda.

All that said, Jamoura are not above defending themselves when the need arises. If confronted with a threat that cannot be avoided or otherwise handled without combat, or if the need to defend their families arises, the Jamoura still retain the ability to fight that they held before their transformations. No matter how quick and/or agile an opponent may be, it only takes one strike from a Jamoura to end the conflict immediately. While their claws aren't much for anything other than climbing, a mighty fist as big around as human head powered by the strength of ten men, is enough to split even the strongest armor. The Jamoura fear little and do not fear for themselves as there are very few beings, sentient or non-sentient, that can take down an adult Jamoura one-on-one. A Jamoura forced into combat would fear what they may do to their opponent more. This brings to mind the idea of a Jamoura battling in a gladiatorial style combat. While it may be possible to force one to do this, they would likely not do well as they would allow themselves to be killed before they would allow themselves to be forced to take another life. There may be ways around that but it would be far from easy.

Anyway, this has been a little insight into how I came up with the Jamoura and how I envision them. Hopefully it helps those who are already playing a Jamoura or who may one day wish to.
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[Gillar's Scrapbook] Diary of a Madman

Postby Caelum on June 3rd, 2012, 4:31 am

Evenin'. ;)

Jen told me about your wristband and it caused me to think you might like this song. Danny Schmidt is the artist and a friend. He's incredibly talented.

Enjoy, or so I hope.

- katie.

This Too Shall Pass

Things change fast
But this too shall pass
Better carve it on your forehead
Or tattoo it on your ass
Cause who can tell
When the clock strikes twelve
If today’s become tomorrow
Or if it’s all just gone to hell

My friend makes rings
She swirls and sings
She’s a mystic in the sense
That she’s still mystified by things
But scared to ask
How can nothing last
Cause like a cancer in your body
It all just goes too fast

We think too big
We think our self is one whole thing
And we claim that this collection
Has a name and is a being
But deep inside
When every cell divides
It sets upon the rule that states
Self-interest is divine

Cancer, too
Lives by this golden rule
That you must do unto the others
As the others unto you
All for the best
Cause that’s all the life accepts
And so we kill it like a buffalo
With awe and with respect

Don’t ask God
Just ask the sky
She’ll tell it to you plainly
In the clouds that whisper by
And praise the shapes
And then praise the way they change
And they’ll teach you not to pray to light
Without you pray to rain

So I pray to hands
And I pray to needs
And I pray to blades of grass
To find forgiveness in the weeds
But as for health
I just never did believe
And so I never prayed myself
Except to those that prayed for me

The story goes
Or the way that I was told
There was a king that always felt too high
And then he fell too low
And so he called
All the wise men to the hall
And begged them for a gift
To end the rises and the falls

And here’s the thing
They came back with a ring
It was simple and was plainly
Unbefitting of a king
Engraved in black
It had no front or back
But there were words around the band that said
Just know: This Too Shall Pass
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[Gillar's Scrapbook] Diary of a Madman

Postby Wrenmae on August 6th, 2012, 3:25 am

Hey Gillar! I wanted to drop a line and thank you for all the hard work you've done on Mizahar. The Jamoura, the Isur, the Zith, Ravok...such fantastic creations that I've enjoyed learning about and look forward to interacting with in the near future (I aim towards the Black Sun, long term goals). I'm not sure how often you're thanked for the work you put into the site, but thank you.

We all appreciate sharing your visions.

Best wishes


Sig by Shausha

This PC has the Blight gnosis. As such, you as a player need to be aware of what that consists of. Wrenmae has an invisible aura that amplifies sickness and disease. Wounds may become infected, small sneezes may become coughing, and a slight fever may become more serious. A nuit's body will also break down faster in the presence of the Blight. These effects may not be immediate, but within the few days following your encounter, the symptoms will manifest. Some sooner than others. I cannot control your character, so creativity will be left up to you. Best wishes and stay healthy!

Special shoutout to Fallon for my new CS
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[Gillar's Scrapbook] Diary of a Madman

Postby Gossamer on September 19th, 2012, 2:02 am

For you...
Because I need to make you more signs.



Love you. :)

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[Gillar's Scrapbook] Diary of a Madman

Postby Gillar on October 7th, 2012, 5:59 am

So I sit here on my night off from work before a 50+ hour week AT work and I am skimming through various thread titles. If anyone has watched or even glanced at online videos of intimate human activities (you know what I'm talking about) then you know that there are some crazy titles for said videos. So I got to thinking, with all the off the wall thread titles we have on Mizahar, what would happen if we introduced previously mentioned titles of intimate human activity videos as thread titles.

For example:

[Flashback] Interracial Akalaks on Konti 7: The Return, Part 1


After Hours: Girl goes to "Massage Parlor" to relax and have fun!

Insomniac: Girl is lonely and takes care of business herself!

Ahhhh. Gotta love that new @$)#(% smell!

Feathers, Tea, and a Whole New World. (Sounds Kinky!)

Sorry Aidara, I had to! But what exactly is going on in Windreach, really? No wonder you're post count is so high over there.

Am I perverted? Um, yeah. Am I disturbed? Most certainly.

On a somewhat more serious note though, I know I am way behind on PMs and behind on just about everything else. It's busy season at work, and it's now the busiest time of the busy time. The good thing though is that means the busy season is almost over and then it's back to catching up full bore and development/quests can ensue.
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[Gillar's Scrapbook] Diary of a Madman

Postby Phoenix on October 7th, 2012, 6:23 am

I just... I can't even..

I just laughed so hard that I was close to death.

I'm the innocent one! IT WAS RON!
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