Right. Why didn't someone tell me? Huh? You've all been reading about my never-ending search for a steed. You've all heard about how the constant running across Telara is giving Caedryn rashes where there shouldn't be rashes. People cross the road when Caedryn approaches. Not because he is one mean dude, but because he carries about him a miasma of B.O. that extends in a six feet diameter around him.
What am I talking about, you ask? Don't pretend you don't know. I've been counting my pennies and snowflakes from the Fae Yule quests, hoping to save up enough to by a steed in Sanctum. So I open up my money pouch to see how many snowflakes I've got stored away. While trying to find them, I spot a tab that says "Mount".
If only, I mutter wistfully to myself, clicking on the tab.
And what do I see? I see a little icon that seems to tell me I can summon a steed.
How long has it been there? How long have I had this mount hiding away in my inventory? I click on it, thinking it's not going to work. It's something else entirely. I must be mistaken. But no! A steed materializes beneath me.
Admittedly, it is a two-head turtle. But that's OK. Caedryn's secure enough in himself to ride alongside the cockatrices and wyverns that everyone else seems to be riding. Caedryn's happy with what he has. Although, those cockatrice's really look cool…
No! No, a two headed turtle is fine. It's more than fine. It's super-duper.
I decide to call him Great A'Tuin, and we set off on a test drive to do a little bonding.
I gleefully gallop around Sanctum, laughing manically at the people forced to use their legs. The poor, pitiful fools.
Right. Enough of that. On with the article.
Last week I talked a bit about Slivers, so this week I thought I'd say a few things about the Slivers' little brother, the Chronicles.
Whereas Slivers require a minimum of 10 players to allow you to take part, Chronicles are more intimate affairs, one or two-man raid zones for the post-level 50 players looking for some quick and dirty action.
The first of these zones we'll be talking about is Hammerknell. At one time Hammerknell was a shining light amongst the Dwarven people, a glowing symbol of architecture and the arts, a city synonymous with Dwarven civilization. Now it is a symbol of madness and horror. A name whispered in fear. Why is that? What happened to force the dwarves to flee their city and seal the gates, locking many of their own people inside to face whatever fates awaited them? No one knows, and the Dwarves certainly aren't talking. When pressed on the matter they simply evade the question and get all surly and curt with you. (You know how these Dwarves are. Moody buggers, the lot of them.)
But now, with Hammerknell’s ramparts breached and the gates pushed open once again, the Ascended are in a race to uncover the secrets held inside the city before the forces of darkness get there before them. What we do know, from the little information the Ascended have been able to tease out of the surviving refugees by getting them drunk on mead, is that the undead rule the abandoned city, treading the ancient halls now thick with dust and bones. But nobody knows if these undead are the ghosts of the Dwarves left behind to fend for themselves, or if they are the shambling corpses who serve Regulos. Or perhaps they are both?
At least the Ascended know something of the layout of the city. So things aren't entirely hopeless. Although apparently a lot has changed in the years since it was abandoned, and it has become something of a warren. So you'll probably find a lot of collapsed tunnels and dead ends and things. But the information we do have tells us that the underground city is divided into three wings. The first is The Halls of Remembrance, home of the library and the crypt. (Because, you know, dead bodies and books just go so well together. They might actually start a trend here.)
Next up is the Halls of Shaping. This was where the Dwarves did what they were born to do. (No, not sing songs about gold and keep pale-skinned girls with black hair prisoner.) It was here they forged weapons and armor, here where they developed the skills of runecrafting. (Although this may not have been such a wise thing to do, as some say it was this runecraft that led to Hammerknell’s doom.)
You might even come across royalty in your searches. Now remember your manners. Never look them in the eye. Don't snigger at the bald heads and weak chins. Don't comment that they only got where they were by hanging on to outdated imperialist dogma which perpetuates the economic and social differences in our society.
Because they don't like that.
Also, they're probably undead zombies now, so your reasoning will most likely be lost on them.
Oh yes, the Abyssal are also trying to uncover the secrets of Hammerknell. Tidelord Jornaru—one of Akylios’s most loyal and powerful servants— is poking around the ruins. So watch your back, because he's most likely onto a plan to free Akylios, the Dragon of Water, from his prison deep beneath the earth.
So be careful in there, people. If you see someone lying on the floor, don't just assume they're dead and prod them with your foot. Because you just know they're going to leap up and rip out your throat. No, if you see a body lying on the ground, just stab it. Over and over. Safety first.
Here ends the PSA.