Here we are at the four-month mark, since I started doing this back in the middle of March. What a crazy ride it’s been.

Well, a week has gone by since I became the Leader of the Brigade (even if the profile doesn’t reflect it yet ) and the Apocolypse has not destroyed us yet… So I’m going to Disney World!

(Well, actually I’m going next weekend as part of my birthday. Maybe. Or maybe Disney can kiss my rear and I’ll go someplace else instead. Haven’t decided.)

Anyway, the newly installed chat channel is doing nicely. We have three guilds logged in on it. Ours (of course), the Palantiri (with Mosby and Callasta, and Envinyatar also now) and The Guild of Calamitous Intent, which just joined us. Calamitous Intent is headed up by a former Doom Brigader named Skarro, and we are very happy to have his people with us.

The Brigade moves along toward its goal of reaching level 20 and getting our guild airship. As of last night, we had reached GL14. The pace has slowed a bit, as it will when the renown point requirements rise with each succeeding level, but I have an idea or two to pass by the guild officers to try and spur it along.

I have pretty much given up hope on my tickertape machine. It seems to have gotten lost in the mail, and Customer Service (which apparently is based in the New Dehli suburb of Detroit, Michigan) has been useless. So I am going to have to find some other way to get info out of my fellow guild members as to what has been happening to them. Of course, seeing as how I am Queen now, maybe I can have a few of them sent to the Royal Tortu… er, I mean… umm… never mind.

Santus has made a couple of changes to the website’s appearance. Gone is the old (outdated) list of needed character classes from the Welcome page. It has been replaced with a window celebrating our newest guild members. Speaking of which, I want to welcome Tinskin to the family as our latest recruit.

Following up last week’s story from Valaneshka, I’d like to share the work of another writer. Santus is an author whose stories are sometimes dark and gritty. He also tends to interweave his characters stories with each other, which is something that is pretty neat. His namesake character, Santus Brightblade, was a cleric who (during the course of another RP story that we did) fell into madness and then perished. Crysanea was his friend, confidante, and lover. She has been having a hard time with Santus’ death, and has lost her own Faith. What follows is an excerpt from her “Metamorphosis”

———————————————————————–

Tracking the time was of no essence anymore… once the heart loses the purpose of its beating and the mind roosts in lack of will to live; not many things really matter.
Time was not the only reason though; that the small wooden windows were tightly shut depriving the dusty half wrecked room from sunlight; it was also painful to her weary from crying eyes. She did not want to see colors; she wanted everything to be grizzle from the darkness; just like her soul was since the day she buried him. Even her red hair was annoying and thus was dyed black. Everything he had touched was now lying broken on the flour; to resemble how he had made her feel; how he was manipulated to make her feel. She prayed for strength to her God at first and when that proved to be fruitless she chose oblivion through drunkenness but even that did not sooth the waking nightmares that tormented her. The last bottle of ale was lying broken on the floor dried out but all she could see while looking at it was the perfect weapon to end this misery she had befell.

All her acquaintances and friends seemed like they had forgotten about her; though in truth nobody really wanted to risk a bruise by her fists or an offended heart by her words; exemplified by the first few who dared approach to offer their compassion. Only a sinister and secretive Drow had visited the last couple of days; asking for him; amplifying the pain to unbearable measures. She had definitely lost her path after that; her rage driven mind had broken loose of everything that characterized her so far to the point of cursing her very own God. Now all she craved for was her death; but not just like that; not by a broken glass driven by her own hand; she wanted an honorable death; a death in battle. She got up on her feet and started preparing. She did not intend to use her own gear though as piece by piece they were blessed by Pelor’s divine light thus she despised them and in addition she wanted to give her opponents the advantage in their effort to take her down and finalize her misery. She wore simple leather pants and wrapped her bare chest with a piece of cloth rendering her stomach and neck to be easy targets for fatal hits; nor did she pack any divine spell components. The only decent piece of gear that she wanted with her was her Father’s greatsword which was carefully tucked in a chest since the day he died. Picking up the sword she removed it from its sheath; shivering by the clean metal sound it produced with every inch she revealed and admired the fine craftsmanship with which it was created; its sheath was tossed aside as she did not want to carry any unnecessary weight and exited the house in a hurry.
———————————————————————–

Very good bit of work, Santus.

That’s it for this edition. RL is intruding, and I have to run off and see about having a picture framed. (Yeah, I know about the Save Draft button, but I already used it once and I hate to do so again.) So, seeyas in seven!