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.

Da Reaper Man is Dead!

Ladies and GentleScum... WE GOT HIM!

 

 

 

 194% guild bonuses... nice...

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!

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