Wednesday, September 10, 2014

ScumFlash: Big Boss Is Dead (start fade out music)

That was quite some strange month. But in the end everybody got their account back (Woopy will rejoin the guild today). It has been an interesting race to be the first to beat D50: At the Big Boss's Place until that point.

It took us two attampts today. The first one failed because we had 4 MIA's (bad bad scum) especailly becasue we got stuck at 4%... I mean... come on... that is like on fart from Quilp, or one less cheaty block from The Boss... For the second attempt we managed to set up a whole lot of us to actually fight the endboss. But The Boss blocked Quilp's hits so often that it started to look like the RNG was fixed. Luckily Quilp never goes down in a fight that is fixed! He gets all stubborn and shit... And, well... it showed.

Big Boss Is Dead



Gratz all on beating D50. So we weren't the first to beat D50, by a day or two. You know what, with all that has happened over the last month, it still feels like we won the race. A big thank you to Kraggori for stepping in, in absence of Woopy. And if you, dear reader, were one of the few who didn't check in for this final guilddungeon... NO STICKERS FOR YOU ;)

Now for that fade out music. This always seemed like the perfect "fade out" music. Just change the lyrics to "Big Boss Is Dead" and turn up the volume instead of slowly down. Yes, yes, click on me I am a link ;)

ScumFlash: Is it that time again?



Yes, yes it is!

Thursday, August 14, 2014

ScumFlash: 49 down 1 to go.

A couple of weeks ago we beat D48, Betty squashed the bug with ease and  Quilp was very upset he wasn't invited to the party.


So especially for him we did an attempt on D49 the same day. Sadly he was so upset that he forgot to kill the AI...


 That was pretty much the last time our check in was decent... untill today that is (booh at the lowlives who still  missed the check in). And when the check in is decent we can even beat the damned RNG!!!


Scum is the first to beat D49 on this server. Only one to go!!

Thursday, July 03, 2014

ScumFlash: Scumlord fell asleep, almost missed the party

With our data gathering monkey completely out of order, some ScumLord managed to totally forget to celebrate some of our accomplishments. So let me present to you our three newest memebers of the 300 club. THREE? yes three!!




As you can see, it is extra special too because it is an all Lady Party (don't be fooled by the lack of girly features of Oswalt. he is a girl at heart!) Gratz Oswalt, WordPlay and WraithForm, may your adventure to halfway evil be swift but eventful.

And while we are at it, let me share another nice achiefment of one of our lowlifes: Hym managed to grab the #1 spot in HoF a couple of times already. But... I seem to have misplaced the screenshots... expect another post about that in the near future with proof.

ps. great blogbackground again this month by Iola. And did i mention we are still the only guild on this server that has beaten dungeon 47? No? Well, we are!!!


Wednesday, June 18, 2014

ScumFlash: Xristen went Xenophobe

Ladies and Gentlescum, meet our latest level 300 player: Xristen! Congratz. We cross our fingers that you saved many dungeons to get out this XP valley of the doomed and that your journey to Halfway Evil is smooth and quick.

Wednesday, June 11, 2014


War Dreams, Chapter 6


Siarah GASPED and sat up. She looked around as she reaches up to test her neck, her breath in ragged bursts. Slowly she starts to understand that she is back in the cavern. She tears back the blanket and dashes for the door, her hands over her mouth. Twisting out of the doorway, she drops to her knees and crawls to the longer grasses. Vomiting repeatedly, the woman fights back a swell of panic over her inability to breathe through the bile spewing out.  

A bird lands besides her, eying her for a minute. It was one of the smaller ravens, probably trying to earn honor by watching Siarah, and finally saw a chance for that. It leaps into the air, taking flight into the woods. It’s noisy cawing announcing its urgency to its brethren, the sound retreating as it plunges into the dark foliage. 

Soon, the Raven King emerges, its mighty wings making short work of the distance, the flap of the wings followed by his court, for all the birds were of a curious nature. They were as fascinated by the little girl as their king, and even more entranced by the kings reaction to her. The king cuts low to the ground as he nears Siarah's home, changing to human, and then adjusting his body down to Siarah's size as his feet land in the grass. He scoops up water from the rain bowl, and brings it to the little lass. 

"Siarah, what is the matter?" Gregeori takes advantage of the situation to touch the girl for the first time, helping to rinse her mouth, and then lifting her into his arms to carry her back into her home. As he nears the bed, Siarah starts to flail, fighting him, refusing to go near the bed. He looks at her in confusion, and backs away to the doorway, where he presses his back against the wall and slides down until he is sitting, and she is upon his lap. She is crying and burying her head into his neck. Gregeori pats at her awkwardly, and stares at the orb. This was not how he ever dreamed their first touch or hug would be like. His fingers tangle in her hair, and he nuzzles into her, unsure of how to comfort her.

Several times, when she started to calm down, something would set her off, and they would be back outside, her throwing up and him rinsing her off. Finally, he gave up hauling her inside, and just held her outside. The ravens around the couple stare quietly, with one or two slipping off to share the news to the others. Soon, the wall of cliff where Siarah’s home was nestled was covered in ravens of all sizes. With a single look, Gregeori motioned to the ravens to find food, to find things to ease Siarah’s pain. Many took off with a cawing to accomplish the tasks. Several taking buckets – those with the king’s blood, those who could shift. They would see to a warm bath for the girl.

When Siarah can no longer stand, and there is nothing in her stomach to leave, Gregeori picks her up, brushing back her hair to wipe her lips and offer more water. That is when the bruises around her neck were exposed to him and his court. Dark bruises the size of a warrior’s hand mar the pale skin around her neck. Seeing that, he roars - or would roar, the roar quelled inside of him instead of where he would scare Siarah. The court of birds behind him held no such respect, and cawed, flapping their wings in dismay and taking flight in short circles of agitation.

He lifts her to standing and starts to inspect her despite her tired and feeble attempts to push him away. The torn nails were discovered, and more bruising on her arms and legs, to his confusion. "What happened, Siarah? When did you do this?" He held up the hands, his eyes looking into hers.

She tugs at her hand, trying to hide them as she does her neck and the exposed body. She looks away, blatantly lying to her friend. "I did this gardening the other day." She reaches for the torn dress, too weak to put it on, and rests it over her breasts, feeling ashamed.

Gregeori, knowing her patterns, wanted to shake her and scream "LIAR" but instead he points out quietly, "It rained for two days straight, and then the battle before your doorstep happened. Your hands would have healed. Siarah, I am here to help, but you need to tell me the truth"
  
Siarah does not believe the truth, so she stares off into the distance. The birds who were gone when this happened were starting to trickle in, setting their gifts and supplies off to the side as they sense the agitation in their king. Gregeori crosses his hands, standing behind her, waiting. His anger at the harm done to her scares everyone in the area, including him. Better to sit back, better to give him time to cool, and Siarah time to gather her thoughts.  

Thursday, June 05, 2014

No Birthday Bashes & More (June 2014)

Sadly, no Birthday Bashes & More for now, because someone broke our data gathering monkey. I'm nut sure what happened or who is responsible, but...

Monday, May 19, 2014

Halfway Evil: Evil Hym is halfway there... (to kick Lavidavi's behind?)

And we got another one. Ladies and Gentlescum, let me give you Halfway Evil Hym! At last one that actually looks the part too!


Let's hope many more will follow shortly. Looking forward to having half a guild that is halfway evil...

EDIT: And while we are at it... Check out this ancient Scum History (yes yes, I'm a link...) After more then a year of Silence and Absence we have the return of Lavidavi to the game. And this time he made the correct choice in joining the Scumarmy.

So... Lavidavi, a level 246 catriding scout with a scrapbook of 98% (see FiFi, that is how you do it) has a lot of catching up to do with all the game updates she missed. So enjoy that and welcome to the Severed Tongue.

LET THE POKING COMMENCE!

Friday, May 09, 2014

Birthday Bashes & More: May 2014

I thought we wouldn't have a Birthday Bashes & More this month, because Kamisama was tied down by female companionship again and I worried she might have broken him. But apparently he escaped, for a short time at least, and managed to spy on all of you again.

But before we go to the list of "who has enough new prezzies to be robbed blind again this month", first let me introduce you to some of our new scum.

First of all we have Nic1080. a level 280 dragonriding Scout with a very decent scrapbook of 98% instantly making him a member of our 95% club. Nic1080 is a big fan of counting as we can see in his character description and is most likely family of Count Count. It seems he has been here a long time already, because someone seems to have stolen his ring...

Then there is FFederica. A raptor riding level 260 mage, also with a scrapbook of 98%, joining Nic1080 in our 95% club. Not much is known about FFederica. She is Italian and has a thing for owls. Wich makes me wonder... can owls scowl?

We also have ViviIX, Cipio's new pet. A level 195 dragon riding warrior with a 53% scrapboo... ehr... what? Something tells me this Dark Elf has lost his way somewhere... See, even his character description says he is in the Dark Army... Something is seriously wrong here... Whatever happens here, I'm holding Cipio accountable...!!!

And finally Ninastar deserves a shout out! She finally had the plastic surgery she has been talking about for months now and has a totally new look. I Always figured she had a crush on Quilp. And her new features totally proof me right!!!

Welcome all and let's hope your stay in the ScumPond will be fun for both you and the rest of us!


Valley of Awful XP
Condolences to you scum.For you have reached an epic level, but will have to beat many dungeons to get out of this XP Valley.
  • 325 – Ghettoforce
  • 275 – Cipio

Nice Round Numbers
Congratulations to you scum, your level looks nice and round.
  • 340 – Alyxyn
  • 330 – Redwood18
  • 310 – WTFmybeer
  • 280 – CrusaderBin
  • 270 – Veha
  • 250 – FFrederica

    Top 3 Levellers of the Month
    Yes, that is it! Show those other lazy lowlives how real Scum does it!
    • 11 levels – NGemN8r
    • 6 levels – Veha
    • 4 levels – Ghettoforce

    95% Club
    This month we have 4 new members to the 95% club, Nic1080, FFederica, NgemN8r (who gained over 11% in the last month!!!) and Jmardo... and we got a new worst scrapbooker in our guild with ViviIX. Come on ViviIX, 53% is totally unscumworthy. Get to work beating those small players and get their stuff. It is not that hard to at least reaach 75%

    Random Data of the Week
    Something Important to get you through the month:
    • Check in totally sucks lately
    • The fact we seem to be a lot stronger then Water Deep doesn't mean you can just run around and not check in.
    • So get back in there and start checking in again. You know we attack twice a day. With a check in window of 10 hours, it shouldn't be too hard to join every single battle...
    • 4 MIA's for our monthly dungeon attempt is WAY too much! We even did worse than our last attempt.
    • On average we gained 16 spots on the HoF. I think we can do better than that though! So let's make sure we gain at least 25 more spots on average by next month! (yes Quilp, you too!)

    Friday, April 25, 2014


    The Dungeon Master screen is up 

    The dice are on the table 

    The stats are on the sheets 

    The Dungeon Master prepares the fable...


    Did you account for the good times?

    Did you account for the dread?

    Did you plan to encounter dragons? 

    If not you may end up dead...


    Bring the stakes for the vampires 

    Bring the holy water too 

    Bring the silver for the werewolves 

    And the courage to do what you must do...


    Have you wanted to save a world from chaos? 

    Has making a difference been on your heart? 

    Do you have the courage to conquer dungeons and dragons?

    If so, then today is the day to start...


    May your journey never end...

         ~Keegan


    War Dreams, Chapter 5


    While Gregeori watched over the lass, she was not resting. What he saw as a sleeping form was only a shell. Her mind had slipped back into the orb the second her mind relaxed into slumber. The orb pulled at her, demanding her attentions. They were attached, or perhaps, she was too weak to protect herself as the Raven King was. So inwards she slipped, her mind being pressed into the chaotic tunnel of feelings and odd swirling colors until she wanted to beg and stop the ride. Her head pounded and her stomach was queasy from the eternal spinning. 

    She landed on her back, staring up into a grey haze. Her body was in a strange form, there were no soft gossamer wings pulling at the muscles in her back. She felt big, and bulky. She raised her hands to look at them, and the fingers were clean – the nails buffed. There was no dirt embedded in them, no breaks from the gardening. These were courtesan hands, all soft and polished. She struggled to sit up, confusion on her face as she peered down at what she wore. She had human clothing on, a white dress, similar to that which the women of the towns wore on their mating day. Her feet were clad with soft silk slippers, already starting to turn grey from the dampness of the ground. She stared at herself in confusion, and then reached up to determine what made her hair so heavy. Flowers adorned her hair in a circlet, a mixing of lilacs and lilies that scented the air around her as she pressed into the circlet. She pulled her knees to herself and wrapped her arms around her knees. She studied the area, trying to figure out what or where she was.

    The area around her was grey. Like most of the colors were washed out by the cold humidity. Fog gathered around the ground and at her ankles, the chilly moisture causing goose bumps. The air was not quite a mist, and definitely not a rain, but the moisture felt like a damp sponge, clinging to her face and making small rivulets of water as it collected. Soon her hair clung to her face and dress as the water soaked into the tresses.

    The trees in the distance were bent and warped things, as if they were rotting while still alive. The softness beneath her feet and bottom was not grass, but moss, washed out, and heavily fed on the rotting plants and moisture. No birds chirped their greetings, no squirrels, or other creatures went about their duties. The place was silent. Deadly silent. She rubbed at her arms. This was not what she expected at all.

    She bent over, struggling to stand up. The dress was bulky and she was not use to the material tangling about her knees and ankles. She tripped a couple times, falling to her hands and knees before she successfully stood up. She gathered the dirty and wet skirt into her hands, lifting it up enough so that she could easily walk without stumbling over the fabric. Picking a direction, she started walking; somewhere there was a man that needed her. At least she thought, optimism always her beacon in the worst of times.

    From behind her, the man appeared. He grabbed at her, choking her with his arm. His sudden grab lifting her off the ground, her feet flailing out in a panic. Siarah reached back, clawing in a panic at what held her. Her fingers made contact and raked three deep welts into the face of that which grabbed her. Her breath was in short bursts of stolen air. Harder she fought the assailant, twisting to the left and right, pulling at the arm and kicking with all her power. One slipper fell to the ground in her fight, her toes splayed out in her panic.
     
    The man's breath is hot on her ear, and he rasped into it "Who are you. Where are we?" Siarah, continued to gasp for her very life, did not answer. Her fingers plied at the tight hold around her neck, the nails cutting into the bare skin of the man. His body was pressed against hers, every muscle felt in a hot heat against her wet clothing. Her foot kicked out and back again, making contact with his kneecap. He growled in pain and threw her to the ground before him.
     
    Siarah tried to crawl away, dragging in deep breaths of the wet air. Her hands scrambled uselessly forward, the dress impeded her knees and movement. The man reached down and grabbed Siarah. Flowers scattered as the crown falls from her hair, the man's heel grinding into the petals as he moved in rhythm with the struggling.
     
    She scratched again at his face as her body is lifted and flipped. Siarah could feel on nail tear off her finger, the blood mingling into the blood from the man’s face. She twisted her body to roll away as he moved to straddle her. His hand went to her throat again, pressing in tightly as he brought his bleeding face to her. Again he growled out to her “Who ARE you? What is this place?” Siarah, finally seeing the man’s face managed to gasp out “Siarah. I am Siarah. Here to help..”

    The scent of the flowers was the last thing that Siarah remembered, her eyes starting to bulge, her fingers slowing their struggle, and her feet lose their kick. The man’s hand released her, too late to get any more answers, too late to know where he was. The two stayed like this, the living dead staring down at the dead. Pale pink drops of blood dropped onto Siarah’s face, the moisture mixing with the wounds upon his skin. Now that the struggle was over, the fog crept back, seeping into the area like ooze. Soon Siarah’s dead body was covered, no longer visible to the man.

    Standing up in a fluid movement, the man stared forward. His fingers gripped tightly in fists, the body at his feet forgotten. The fog crept higher, reaching the man's knees. The place faded to black, as if the last hope of sunlight was taken with the girl when she died. The final smell of the flowers lost to the uncaring man.

    Wednesday, April 16, 2014

    Da Reaper Man is Dead!

    Ladies and GentleScum... WE GOT HIM!
     
     
     
     194% guild bonuses... nice...

    Saturday, April 12, 2014

    Birthday Bashes & More: April 2014

    Oh my... What do you get when you combine a little holiday, an interweb meltdown and a typical form of Scumian laziness? That is right very very late birthdaybashes...

    Let's start with the Huge Crowd of 300! I failed to inform you about before. Get ready... here they come... this may take a while... Please don't forget to scroll down to find the rest of this post...




    Wait what... did someone leave the frontdoor open again? What the fuck are all these elves doing here all of the sudden? Are they gathering in masses? Are these the first signs of a rebellion? Where is AAylia? and where is Betty... and who the fuck stole my crown?

    Valley of Awful XP
    Condolences to you scum.For you have reached an epic level, but will have to beat many dungeons to get out of this XP Valley.
    • 350 – Quilp
    • 300 – WTFmybeer, Farkentje, Ciciz, Mhorg, Keldonhing
    • 275 – Moora, Capone
    • 250 – NGemN8r

    Nice Round Numbers
    Congratulations to you scum, your level looks nice and round.
    • 330 – Hym
    • 310 – Demon William
    • 290 – Tofurkey, Nanouchka, WordPlay, ustarach, Wraithform, Xristen, TDI
    • 280 – Srike
    • 270 – Cipio
    • 260 – Elvix, nemurici, Veha, silverlance

      Top 3 Levellers of the Month
      Yes, that is it! Show those other lazy lowlives how real Scum does it!
      • 9 levels – Elvix
      • 8 levels – WTFmybeer, Silverlance
      • 7 levels – Cipio, Capone, Veha

      95% Club
      This time no new members to the 95% club... and midir, keldonhing and nemurici still seriously have to work to get their scrapbooks to 75%

      Random Data of the Week
      Something Important to get you through the month:
      • Your Scumlord is a lazy SOB, although not so lazy as the rest of you.
      • With the latest changes we seem to go up on the Scout side and down on the Warrior side
      • Obviously we still drown in mages...
      • If we would all check in for a change, we would be able to beat D47 already. That reaperman is starting to get boring. I want to see the next Dungeon!!!
      • The big winner of lasts months slogan competition is..... NO ONE!!! Not for your lack of trying though... oh wait.. it WAS for the lack of you trying...
      • The Scumlord is very disapointed in his lowlifes...
      • Wich is amazing... because after all it is Scum...
      • BACK TO WORK! And NO GRINNING IN THE BACK!

      Monday, April 07, 2014

      FreshScumFlash: NGemN8r

      Dear Scum,

      This should have been the monthly (yes yes, I “forgot” all about last month) Birthday Bashes & More, but there have been so many other things to talk about that I postponed that one for a couple of days at least. (though thanks to Kamisama for still getting all the info together for me).

      Some of you have been here for years now. And I must say it is impressive how loyal you all have been (hey, if you are still here you have been loyal right?).  That doesn’t mean everybody has the same stamina. We have lost some of our Lowlifes in the last period.

      Scrubby
      A couple of weeks ago Scrubby told us that he was going to leave, sadly it was in the middle of my holiday. So, until now, didn’t have  the time to give him a proper farewell to him. He was one of the ancient scum, so we are sad to see him leave and wish him good luck in whatever he does. Here are his own words:

      Hi Ghetto,
      It has been a fun months hanging out with everyone but I have simply lost all draw to the game. I am quitting today. Thank you for your leadership and support.
      See ya!
      Scrubby

      Oak
      Sigh, such a loss here (again). You might remember C-3PO replaced Oak as backup warmonkey (and did a decent job in the first couple of weeks ;). Oak’s real life exploded around him (again), so he decided that it was time to stop playing (again). Ofcourse we have good hopes he’ll return to us (again) as he did before (again). In his own words:

      Hey (sheepish grin)...
      I over did it with work, fam, paddle training so when the app crashed I didn't get back to re-installing. Probably not coming.back but I think I said that before so won't say never. If you have a chat room somewhere I will join to keep in contact. Say hi to the ugly ones from me.
      Oak

      Revliss
      Another one that will be sorely missed. I mean.. who wouldn’t miss the Queen of Ducttape right? Revliss has been inactive for a long long time… Well, to be honest she logged in every couple of weeks. But that isn’t enough to stay in the scummiest guild on this server (wait… what am I saying… scummiest guild on EVERY server ofcourse). At the moment she is taking a nap in Frenzied Fury and will return to us when she gets back to her normal active self! (so fear not!! Da Queen of Ducttape shall retun… one day I hope…)

      Bakryu
      Talking about Semi Ancient Scum. Bakryu (the man that always said he was going for level 500) has gone MIA on us for a couple of weeks now. I was not able to make any contact with him whatsoever, so all we can say for now: “Bakryu, we hope everything is alright”. If it is and you just didn’t say goodbye, then all we can say is: “Bad bad bad Bakryu!!!”.

      Nanouchka
      And last one for this depressing blogpost is Nanouchka. She has told me a couple of weeks ago that she is planning to leave the game, but will stay around until we found a suitable replacement.  Well… what can one say...  When being told in advance of one’s  departure is highly saddening. At the same time we appreciate the heads up AND ofcourse the commitment to keep as active as can be until the real time of departure arrives (ofcourse we still hope that day will never come ;).
       

      FreshScumFlash: NGemN8r
      So.. Is it ALL bad news? No ofcourse not, are we Scum or are we not?. As you have noticed some of our old friends have come back to help us out, at least until we have beaten D47. And today we welcome a completely new friend… Really? Really!

      Welcome to NGemN8r (please don’t ask me what that name means, because I have NO idea… ask him instead… why do I have to do everything around here???) our newest smallest player to chase Silverlance. NGemN8r  (from now on nicknamed 9’er) is a dragonriding scout with a scrapbook of 87.41% (Come on 9’er you can do better than that) that originally came from Commune. Be carefull around him, he might be small but he comes from Oklahoma City… and we all know what happened there in the 90’s… (are you so sure that justice was served there? Then you probably also think that Oswalt acted alone…;)
       
      Btw NGemN8r, it is time to get rid of those “all stat” epics and find yourself some new toys to play with. You are in the big boy league now  Have fun while you are here J

      Monday, March 31, 2014


      War Dreams, Chapter 4

      Siarah is an enigma. Man started creeping into the land of her clan for years now, and the clan accepted it, tucking themselves deeper into their recesses, and interacting with man as they saw fit. Now, man wanted it as theirs along with other men. White men with red hair fought against darker skinned, darker haired men. The darker men were savages without armor, fighting with primitive tools and winning at this battle. They used magic as their weapons. They weakened the paler men with their spells. The army, led by the man who wielded the sword of gems, was slowly being decimated. This was not quite a good thing.

      Despite their greed, the paler humans cared for the earth and accepted those who were not like them – the fae in all their shapes. The paler humans wanted the land, but they wanted the land fertile and bountiful. They were aware of over burdening the land, which is why their continual greed for the land grew. They were worse than the rats and rabbits in their ability to reproduce.

      The darker savages raped the lands that they called theirs. They took the harvests and did not feed the soils. They took the magic of the air and earth and did not wait for it to replenish. The lands they claimed turned dark and dead, their people hungry and mewling for more. They did not understand or care to understand, how to repair the earth. They saw the lush lands of the paler men and coveted it. They fought, bringing dead to life, sucking the forces from the trees, air, and even the magical beings of the land.

      This is why Siarah’s clan had left the area. They sought to protect the dwindling numbers of their family. They sought shelter in the other lands left untouched. Even those were becoming overloaded, a draw on the resources. They would not be able to stay here forever.
      Yet, Siarah stay when her family fled the land for safety. She stayed because of a dream she swears the spirits sent to her. She watched the battles from the sidelines, not knowing he watched over her. She never flinched or turned away from the damage man wrought upon each other or the land. She studied every face that came before her, and every one of the men upon the fields. Gregeori knew that when she got home from the forays that she would throw up, and cry for hours. She was not as strong as she showed outside of her cavern. How he wished that she would go now, now that her part of the dream was fulfilled, go back to her family. Even as he wished that, his gut clenched. His mind screamed "Mine! MY jewel!"

      He clenched his hands and clenched his teeth. How he wished that he were the one resting where that orb lay. Finally, the dawn came, and Gregeori shifted into his raven form, hopping to the bed for one last look. With the orb and the weapon found, he guessed that would be the last time he would see her. He plucked out a feather and laid it on her pillow, hoping that she would see it, and take it with her on her journey to her family. He hoped that she would not forget him. Finally, he steeled himself, knowing she would wake soon, and with a final glance, he took off, out of the small cavern and into the air. He refused to look back, not even to see if she followed him.

      Thursday, March 20, 2014

      War Dreams, Chapter 3

      A smallish raven, probably one of the lowest in the flock by the amount of lost feathers and exposed, scarred skin; hopped in front of the Raven King. The raven bobs its head, talking to the king in the language of birds. The cawing, which is all Siarah heard, translated roughly to "We have found the man, a powerfully built man, the mighty sword with three red gems found in his hand." The little raven hops from one foot to the next in its excitement of delivering the word to its king. "The others allowed me to carry its soul to you" With these words the raven looked like it was about to burst as a round object made its way up its throat, and the bird regurgitated a glowing copper ball upon the graveled ground by Siarah.

      Utter astonishment crosses Siarah's face, and then dismay as she looks upon the ball at her feet. Not touching the object, she whispers, "He was dead? What am I to do with this? The dream never showed me this!"

      "Dreams do not always show everything my dear" The King cawed, trying to be gentle, but in his heart, he was glad that the man was not man at this point. "If I recall, the dream you told me about simply had you seeking the man during the war. You fulfilled that in the last three years, and you stood here watching the battle in which he perished. You have found him. Now, lass, will you leave these lands? Will you join your people once again?"

      Siarah still stared at the ball; a line of wetness etched her tired face, a silent mourning. Quietly she picks up the coppery orb, amazed that it is warm under her hands. She looks pensively into the swirling lights and feels herself start to drift. She had fallen in love with the man in her dreams, seeing that he and her would save the lands and bring back her people. That together they could reunite man and fae again. She mourned not only his passing, but also the future she had built up in her heart and mind.

      The raven king, seeing the lass start to slip into the orb without realizing the danger, pushes at her hands with his beak "Whoa now! Dangerous trip you were about to make. Do not look into its lights; you will not like the results!" This startles the small fae, and the ball rolls out of her fingers back to the ground. “To look so deeply into the orb of a soul, will cause you to travel to that soul. You will stay trapped there, trapped until the ravens deliver the orb safely to the Summerland. Your body would be a shell, left to rot without you there to protect it, and you would not be able to pass into Summerland, nor back to these lands. You would not even be a ghost.”

      Siarah looks at the orb that was resting before her toes, and wipes away the tears on her face. She looks up at the mighty king, whose bird size is a few inches taller. “I will not look into the orb, not without someone there to protect me.” The king looked satisfied, and leans over to preen gently at the little woman. He stands guard beside her to watch the battlefield, his ravens, and what he is starting to deem as his – Siarah.

      When the ravens have left to complete their otherworldly tasks, Siarah took the coppery ball into the cavern. Her little hands could barely wrap around the orb, and it swirled in warm eddies upon her palms. Lying back down upon her mossy bed, she studied the orb, ever so careful to keep her mind shielded. Soon she drops back to sleep, weary from the activities of the night.

      Outside, without her knowledge, the Raven King has flown back, shifting to his human form and then using his magic to adjust his shape to match the small fae’s size. Slipping into her cavern, no further than the door, Gregeori gives a silent sigh and sits with his back against the wall. He has been doing this almost nightly, ever since the war of man moved closer and closer to Siarah's abode.

      Gregeori scowls at the orb that rested on a mossy pillow beside her. How he wished that man had never graced the lands near Siarah. His human form is almost alien to him; he stares at his bare feet wondering what Siarah sees in the man within the orb. The human male body is not that well built. It is gangly with long awkward bones and so many soft areas to protect. Nothing for warmth either. No wonder clothing was so important. How man can lift heavy weapons, don clothing of metal is beyond his concept. The ravens dined upon the dead, taking their souls to the Summerland. There was no need for the metals left behind.

      Friday, March 07, 2014

      ScumFlash: We needs more slogans!

      Remember this? http://scumbase.blogspot.nl/2012/07/scumflash-making-up-our-own-damn-rules.html

      This month's theme is up a few days late ... oops.  I'd like to thank Ciciz for the inspiration as well as Aaylia for February's bit of brilliancy.

      I'm looking for some more slogans for The Scumbase .. Ghettoboss likes it when I have to bend my brain around a concept that you've come up with.  I picture him sitting back in his gold throne with his feet resting upon Alyxyn, whom he has forced to be his coffee table, drinking something horrid and giggling.  There's also scratching, belching and passing of gas involved, but I'm not sure if its Alyxyn or Ghetto.

      Even though I'd like to think I'm a bottomless well of creativity, the truth is that a number of you have provided cleverness and I've simply wrapped graphics around your words, ideas or deeds.   If I haven't used something you've previously suggested, its because I don't yet have a good idea how to present it .. or may not ever - quotes from Snakes on a Plane don't tend to lend themselves to subtlety.

      I'd love it if you'd apply your own twisted sense of fun to our monthly graphic header .. give us a slogan we can use, remembering that we have to keep it fairly short for it to work. I'd like to work with the Round One Memes, phrases, sound-alike words also work.

      Thanks for your help!

      Io

      Saturday, February 15, 2014


      War Dreams, Chapter 2

      Siarah sat there in a fine fettle, her chin cushioned by her fist upon her knees. Hours passed and still she sat, her mind far away, straining to make sense of the calling given to her. So deeply she mulled her thoughts that even the sticky dew or the warm glow of dawn's first rays through the darkness of night did not stir her from her reverie.

      High above, a lone raven circled the aftermath of the carnage, watching the lass as she meditated. She had become a fixture to the feast, a curiosity at first and now a fascination. His fascination was not his alone. His entire realm was developing an unhealthy relationship with her, guarding her home as she slept; monitoring her while she waited in the shadows of the fights, alerting him to her needs and distresses.

      His obsession was increasing with every visit she made to the battlefields; slowly she was becoming the prized gem that he coveted. He was even becoming jealous of the dream person that she sought, wishing to be the one that filled her dreams as she slumbered. Irritated at his thoughts, the king gave a mighty CAW as he floated in the cool morning air. Yet, instead of joining his flock as he should, the king landed in a pine tree not far from Siarah.

      Another one was in the tree as well, the fair princess of Cloidthe, of the Northern Forest, and the closest friend of Siarah. To look upon this maiden was like watching a flower blossom from its dewy bud into a breathtaking flower. Her golden hair waved around her face, a single band of copper laid upon her head denoting her office. Her tan skin flushed in the cool air, and she turned to acknowledge the Raven King. "We meet again, Sir" before turning her worried eyes upon her friend. Quiet settled between the two for a few moments before the princess spoke again, "She is starting to worry me, I fear what will happen if she does not find this man soon, and at the same time I fear what changes this man will bring if she does.”

      The Raven King did not speak for a long time, his dark eyes watching the princess, for she was truly beautiful, but not like Siarah. Meolin was the most delicate of fine porcelain where Siarah was the tough metal flagon that whets a man's thirst. "She has sought him for over three years. Her hope is starting to weaken, look upon her now, and see. Be the loyal friend she needs, and do not tarry too long in these lands."

      Meolin nodded her head at the king's wise words and made her way down the tree, her bare feet finding easy purchase upon the wide branches and her agile acrobats quickly landed her beside her friend. Together the women sat for a while, held tightly to one another in comfort. As Siarah started to relax, Meolin stood, and guided her friend away from the carnage of man. The two slipped slowly into the dawning mists, and out of the sight of the Raven Kings protective watch.

      That night, the dreams took a new turn. The sounds of battle louder than ever, causing Siarah to toss and turn upon her lofty bed of moss, crying in fear of the horrible slaughter happening. She could hear the swords clang and the grunts of men, their war cries loud upon the air. Siarah could take no more and sat straight up in her bed, looking about in a sleepy fog. She shook her head trying to get the sounds of the night to banish from her mind, but the sounds remained, echoing in the lass's chamber. Wrapping a thick blanket around her, Siarah slid off her bed and padded to the opening of the cavern that she called home. In the night, the war had landed upon her doorstep and she watched the many dances of death with a morbid fascination. Slowly, body after body succumbed to exhaustion or the skill of the opponent, until only a handful of wounded men stood, leaning against heavy bastard swords, and breathing in the night air in huge gulps. One man started up a warrior’s cheer, one that burned the last of his adrenaline and cited their victory in this battle. Another man echoed the cry and soon all those left were adding in their voices. It was like watching a pack of wolves braying to the moon.

      As the group of warriors left the area, carrying what wounded they could, Siarah waited, watching the sky for the ravens. She knew they would come, and it did not seem right to step out into the field without the presence of the raven's King. When he was around, she felt safer on the field of the dead. Therefore, she stood there, watching over the dead through the last of the night until the dawn breached the skyline, and the sounds of the birds drew close. The king flew right to her doorway as if he knew right where she was, and landed at her feet. "Your princess worries, Siarah. Let my birds search the field as we work. You stand guard with me, keep this old king company, and tell me what is so important of this man. Why is he more than all your friends and family, who you have refused join. What answers do you think will be filled by finding him?" The king was quite serious, and for the first time, Siarah felt compelled to stay and share with the king. She nodded her head, the sleep tousled hair bouncing with the nod. "Let your ravens seek."


      Monday, February 10, 2014

      ScumFlash: Cipio usurps Oak as backup Battlemonkey

      Poor Oak suffered so much abuse from the hands of AAylia that he wasn't able to perfrom his duties as backup Battlemonkey anymore. Come to think of it... this is the SECOND time she broke Oak... Damn you AA!!! One day I'll figure out what to do with you and rid the guild of your evil presence forever!!!

      ...

      *chirping crickets*

      ...

      Ehr.. right...Welcome to CipiO as new backup  Battlemonkey. When either AAylia or Hym fail to hit the battlebutton in time, he should be alert enough to step in for them and make sure we Always have someone to fight! Let's just hope he is better suited to resist AA's temptations and schemes then Oak was...

      Saturday, February 08, 2014



      I promised Ghettoforce I would start writing again. So what I am going to do is take an old story I started in NanoWritMo, and complete it. Feel free to comment, edit, make fun or help guide the story along with ideas and input. It makes the writing more fun when I get this feedback. We will see if I can complete this story that I once started.

      War Dreams, Chapter 1

      The sounds of war were fading into the setting sun. The settling dust coating the blood soaked bodies of the dead, their glazed eyes left ever staring into the heavens. Moans, a sad wail, pleas to a far-off lover broke the silence, but eventually all was quiet.

      Fog seeped through the bloody grasses to envelop the bodies in a damp shroud. The flit of many wings grew louder as the ravens came to perform their duties to their Gods, to carry the deeds of these warriors to the heavens. As the flock landed amongst the dead and dying, a figure stepped out from her hiding spot. Barely larger than a man’s hand, her clothing was made of soft spider webs that clung to her slender body. The sharp contrast of her raven-black hair made her skin all the paler in the shadows of the evening. In her hand, she carried a spear fashioned from a silver fork, stolen from the world of man many months ago.

      Perched upon the hilt of a sword thrust into the ground, the largest of the ravens sat, not partaking with his brethren in the feast offered by the carnage. Grey feathers marked his crown and though his once bright eyes clouded with age, his mind was sharp as ever.

      “Again you prowl through the dead Siarah?” the raven cawed, “You will never find that what you seek! It was a dream! Go home and be away from these sights! Be away from that which is our due!”

      The woman stood firm, her chin jutting out in a silent show of anger, her green eyes snapping in ire at the bird. “Tease me as you will, but I know in my heart that I have to find the man. He is critical to the future of all our worlds”.

      Wings spread wide as he took to the air, the Raven King laughed, his words fading as he flew to oversee his flock “Critical? Men only destroy young one. Even when they create, they destroy. Look upon the ruin they have brought to themselves, you will fare no better if you persist in this fool’s errand… leave this place like the rest of your kind”.

      In spite of the old raven’s warning, Siarah searched among the fallen, careful not to disturb any that might be feasting. As the bird had said, it had been a dream, but it was a dream that had occurred every night since the human war claimed the lands of her home. Such a dream must have meaning, must be prophetic and so it was her duty to see it through.

      The memory of the dream she had come to know so well over the course of the last three years night’s was clear: a powerfully built man with bright blond hair and freckled skin, he would fall in battle and she would find him. She would know him by the mighty sword that he wields – A sword so large that two hands strained to swing it. Three red rubies were nestled into the pommel of the hilt with a gold inlay of three birds twisting their flight around the gems. Somehow, she knew that in this, there was hope for her homeland.

      Silently, she moved from body to body between the pools of blood already congealing in the open air. The ravens were efficient though, and all too often eyeless faces stared soullessly into the night. Long after the birds were gone, she searched until every one of the dead was examined.

      Frustrated, the tiny fae moved to rest on a mushroom peeking from the edge of the forest; another battle whose end she had witnessed, and yet still the prophecy remained unfulfilled. Doubt filled her, “Perhaps it was as the raven king stated - only a dream?”