Creador del evento : Equipo de eventos.
Tipo de evento : OOC ¡Eventos, minijuegos, sorpresas y emociones garantizadas!
Niveles apropiados : Todos.

Fecha del evento : Empieza el viernes 29 octubre 2021 19:00:00 UTC (3 años hace).
Duración prevista : 10 Días.
Lugar del encuentro : Por todo Atys.

Homins interesados : Todos.
Sinopsis: El Anlor Winn del año de Jena 2615 sopla en Atys con sus eventos OOC.
Para saber mas : Anuncio detallado & Fichas Anlor

Creador del evento: Equipo de Eventos.
Tipo de evento: Compartir historias de miedo.
Niveles apropiados: Todos.

Fecha del evento : domingo 7 noviembre 2021 20:00:00 UTC (3 años hace).
Duración estimada : Aproximadamente dos horas.
Lugar de la cita : Pueblo de Anlor Winn, Bosque de Almati.

Homins interesados: Todos.
Sinopsis : Ven y asusta al propio Anlor Winn con tus creaciones o simplemente escucha y anima a los cuentacuentos.
Para saber mas : Anuncio

Event Suggestions:

1. I wound up with close to 15,000 Anlor Win tokens between left over's from last year and this year ... spent about a third of them trying to lose my soul and stock GH, ours and others, with max level stuff .... burning off the rest 1 at a time to get 250 "wundahamat" for Daily (Crafting) Missions has netted about a stack after 2,500 spins and (21) 250 Crystals / (23) 500 crystals. Everything else required clicking "Drop All" as no interest.

2. This year, it seemed we were hitting the same camps over and over again. Consider after 60 /60 a follow up where ya have to hit every tribe camp you hadn't visited.

While visiting the camps, add a "trick or treat" interaction with an NPC where ya can get one of the following:

a) get a small fixed number of sup mats (not more than 10, not less than 1)
b) get feared outta the camp
c) a mob pops and you have to kill to get the mats

The number of tribes + the "federales" (guard camps)should be enough to get ya a sampling of each mat. Tie the mat level to the player level in harvest.

Yes, I understand that the wheel i intended to be a time sink as well as add the excitement of chance .... but with the Anlor Winn tokens for example .... consider an alternative, whereby if ya have all the weapons / armor "lose your soul" rewards, there's options other than spinning the wheel 10,000 times.
wheel is intended to be both a time sink and

L'histoire de Fyrosfreddy, racontée par Khandoma

Alors qu'un soir j'étais assise chez Ba 'Naer, au Bar de Fairhaven, j'ai entendu un conte qui m'a éclairée sur l'état de la ferme de la Source dite Ferme de Corrie Finley, aujourd'hui abandonnée.

Le conteur raconta ce soir là avoir rencontré, au cours d'un de ses nombreux voyages, le fantôme de Corrie Finley qui, avec son époux Fyrosfreddy, exploita la ferme familiale de la Source durant trois décennies. Le travail était dur, comme dans toute ferme. Mais le plus dur pour Fyrosfreddy, c'était sa relation avec sa femme, Corrie. Elle était très exigeante et rien de ce que faisait son mari n'était, à ses yeux, assez bien fait.

Un jour, alors qu'il s'était interrompu pour prendre son déjeuner, elle sortit de la ferme pour le contraindre à écourter une pause qu'elle jugeait apparemment trop longue. Et c'est debout derrière le mektoub de Freddy, lequel aimait beaucoup Freddy mais n'aimait guère sa femme, qu'elle se lança dans sa tirade de réprimande. Alors, comme elle levait sa canne pour donner à son mari un coup destiné à le faire bouger, le mektoub fit une ruade qui l'atteignit à la tête et la tua.

Durant des funérailles de Corrie, nous dit le conteur du bar, son fantôme était présent lorsque les homines défilèrent devant Freddy pour lui exprimer leurs condoléances et avait donc pu observer qu'il n'y répondait que par un hochement de tête affrmatif… Il remarqua également que, lorsque les homins s'approchaient pour lui parler, Freddy leur répondait seulement d'un signe de tête de dénégation. Cependant, le fantôme ne put entendre les questions auxquelles son époux répondait ainsi, par simples mouvements de la tête.

Le fantôme de Corrie Finley, sachant qu'il ne pourrait trouver le repos éternel avant de savoir ce que Freddy avait dit ce jour là, résolut de hanter notre conteur/voyageur jusqu'à ce qu'il le découvre pour lui. Celui-ci chercha pendant cinq longues années et chaque année, au temps d'Anlor Winn, Corrie revenait et lui rendait la vie impossible : ses armes perdaient leur tranchant, ses mektoubs de bâts et sa monture tombaient malades, la météo défavorable l'empêchait toujours d'extraire les matières dont il avait besoin, etc.

Et puis un jour, finalement, il rencontra une homine, nommée Khandoma, qui avait assisté à l'office de funérailles de Corrie. Elle lui dit qu'elle avait entendu ce jour là les dames demander à Freddy s'il continuerait à travailler à la ferme et à leur fournir tous les produits agricoles de qualité que Corrie avait apportés au marché au fil des ans. Ce à quoi Freddy avait répondu affirmativement en hochant la tête.

Puis le fantôme demanda avec anxiété : « Et qu'est-ce que les homins avaient demandé à Freddy qui lui avait fait répondre d'un signe de dénégation ? » Notre voyageur répondit : « On m'a dit que les hommes voulaient savoir "si le mektoub était à vendre, et, dans l'affirmative, s'il accepterait moins de 10 millions de dappers"… »

A Scary Story, told by Krill

Krill takes a bottle filled of byrh and stands up.
"My story takes place just after the Great Swarming, in the area we now call the Grove of Confusion.
The area was still largely unknown when... what was his name again? The father of what's-his-name? Toub...
Anyway. It was just after the time when the city of Yrkanis was founded... Oh yes. By Yrkanis' father. Logical."

Krill drinks a byhr.
"What was I saying? Oh yes. There was a Matis named Velad, or Valad. He was very curious, and he explored the Forest on behalf of his king. Yrkanis' father... And so he was busy mapping the labyrinth north of the Grove of Confusion. And it wasn't easy. Even worse than today. There were nevertheless homins who had already settled there. It's faster to set up a camp than to found a city, right?
And so one day Velad came across a camp somewhere in the Upper Grove. It wasn't a big camp. A few handfuls of homins and homines at the most... "

Krill takes another sip of byrh.
"... and there wasn't too much fun in their camp. It took Velad a little while to figure that out, by the way. But after a while, he finally realized. The whole camp was scared to death. He got them to talk a bit. And so they told him."

Krill finishes her bottle of byrh.
"They told him that every night a huge beast with red eyes was prowling around. That it was attacking and biting the homins, but not killing them. And that was the weirdest thing. Its victims were found unconscious in the morning, somewhere around the camp, with no memory of what had happened. But with the trace of the fangs in their flesh. Then they would weaken, slowly but surely, and eventually die."

Krill reaches into her bag for a new bottle of byrh and takes a drink.
"At the time, the homins hadn't yet realized that the Powers could bring them back. Or the Powers were not systematically doing this yet.
But that wasn't the worst part. It was that the bodies, buried far from the camp, were disappearing. Not like us with the Powers. No. It was as if something had gouged the bark where they were laying, from underground, from the inside."

Krill pauses, and takes the opportunity to have a drink.
"But Velad had seen many things, starting with the Great Swarming. He was not afraid. And so, as night fell, he took up his weapons and began to make rounds around the camp."

     Krill takes a big gulp of byrh and mutters to herself: 'Stupid conceited Matis.'
"But hey. What had to happen happened, and at some point in the night, Velad eventually came across a gigantic beast. With huge red eyes. And even bigger teeth."

Krill mimes big eyes and terrifying teeth.
"He was a bit pretentious, that's for sure. But he was also a damn good fighter, I'll give him that. And so, he started the fight. Trying to stay out of reach of the fangs. Over and over again, he struck, parried, returned to the attack. The beast dodged, it was fast. And it would retaliate. But Velad would parry and come back to attack. Again and again.
In spite of everything, the fight was balanced, neither of the two adversaries managing to take the advantage.
And the night wore on, the day approached."

Krill finishes her second bottle of byrh.
"And, as the light began to grow, the beast stumbled... Velad took the opportunity to cut deeply into its right front leg.
The beast howled in pain.
But just as Velad was about to strike the final blow, the beast abruptly turned and fled into what was left of the night... Velad nearly collapsed from exhaustion and, still, with bit of relief.
But first and foremost, he quickly checked his wounds, for he remembered what those in the camp had told him. He had dozens of scratches, because the beast's claws were sharp too, but fortunately there was no trace of a bite.
Velad was exhausted, but he returned to the camp, which was slowly waking up. Everyone was there, and when the news of the fight spread, everyone came to congratulate him. It was the first time that someone had successfully confronted the beast, and everyone had a big party. And Velad went home with a sense of accomplishment."

Krill empties a bottle of byrh in one go.
"The funny thing about this story is that I've never seen a tribe in the Upper Grove labyrinth..."

Krill tucks her empty bottles into her bag.
"However, many are the jugulas, up there..."

An Eerie Story, told by Kyriann

Qi-Quang is alone. Although very young, she likes to gather herself in this remote corner of the Jungle, far from the noise of the homins, lulled by a soft breeze on her mask.
A shiver runs through her suddenly; a cold wind has risen around her, an evil wind. But she remains serene. The superstitions of the Trykers cannot frighten her.
A fog rises from the Bark deafening the sounds and blurring the contours.
She closes her eyes, resuming her meditation.
A brush, like a fine lace that settles on her mask makes her jump and look around. But she only sees the beloved landscape, made distant by the fog.
"Ma-Duk loves me, he tests my concentration."
She suddenly puts her hand to her mask: "Ouch!"
Something has scratched her, she can feel the mark on the smooth surface of her mask.
"Who's there??" But her shout doesn't seem to get through the fog and nothing answers.
She tries to reason: "It is your fear that makes you imagine things! The Kamis are protecting you!"
But as she finishes saying these words, she feels a small tug on her frontal horn. She sweeps the air in front of her. The tug disappears.
"Show yourself!"
Still silence answers her.
The pull this time is more brutal and she brings both hands to her mask.
"No!!"
She leaps to her feet and charges forward, where it seems to her that the fog is less dense.
The calm returns and she slows down, looking for her breath.
The violence of the blow on her horn brings tears to her eyes. She feels as if her horn has been torn off. But no, her hands tell her otherwise.
Fear throws her into a frantic flight.
Finally, the fog disperses. In front of her, the sanctuary of Ma-Duk appears. She is saved.
She collapses in tears. Machinally, she brings her hand to her mask. The scratch has disappeared.
It was only her imagination.
She moves towards Chaoi to tell him her misadventure when her eyes are attracted by a movement at her feet.
Her mask horn rolls towards her as in a sob she palpates her mangled mask.

A Horrific Story, told by Nizyros

Here is a horrible story, too long forgotten...
It was a night, just like this one, filled with heavy and thick mists.
Nobuki was walking down a very dark street in Pyr, like every other night.
Nobuki had no home, but was a very friendly insomniac who was loved by everyone in the bathing district of Pyr.
But this night he didn't feel very well, he felt too hot, he was even suffocating. Usually in autumn, the nights are cool, but there… this heat…
He kept walking when his thought was interrupted by… the ground…

It was getting hot too… his boots… his soles were melting… he found himself stuck to the ground which was melting more and more over a huge distance and at a terrifying speed…
Then a kind of siphon formed in the center and sucked the whole road up to Nobuki's feet. An orange glow spurt out of it, followed by an even more intense heat…
Nobuki felt his skin melting on his cheeks, his fingers turned into blackened jelly, his eyes sank from their sockets, his nose disappeared, as if sucked into the rest of his face…
Then it was his whole body that turned into homin mush buried under a thin pile of clothes!!!
To this day, the road has been rebuilt and the story of our Nobuki forgotten.

But, this much is certain, you should never walk alone in the streets during Anlor-Winn night!

The Legend of the Repelling Yubo, told by Rizyinshi

You came to be spooked by scary stories.
Sadly I know none.
None more scary than the Ghost Yubo.
Many have fallen victim to cursed boots.
That glow of supernaturally charged yubo pee.
For once the Ghost Yubo has marked your shoes.
You’ll need not worry about Social Distance.
People will avoid you.
Dates will cancel. But, you will have a lot of free time.
You see, Anlor Winn fears the Ghost Yubo… as do I.

Original

Una historia insólita, contada por Umaena

Era una brillante tarde de otoño y me había dispuesto a explorar la selva de las Ciudades de la Intuición.
Cuando el día llegaba a su fin, en algún lugar del borde de la Selva Virgen, me apresuré para evitar que me sorprendiera la oscuridad, cuando una espesa niebla se levantó del suelo.
La niebla rápidamente me rodeó. El aire estaba helado y no podía ver al frente más allá de tres metros. Ningún sonido de la espesa selva llegaba a mis oídos.
Preocupado, seguí vagando durante varias horas sin saber adónde iba realmente, hasta que di con un árbol con el tronco hueco.
Agotado, me acurruqué dentro de la cavidad y no tardé en quedarme dormido.

Me desperté con un sobresalto en mitad de la noche. No sé exactamente por qué. La niebla se había disipado y una luz llamó mi atención en la distancia.
Al acercarme con precaución, vi que se trataba de una sencilla cabaña de madera, apoyada en una escarpada, cuya puerta abierta dejaba salir una suave luz.
Animado, decidí presentarme en la puerta. Dos jóvenes zoraï estaban sentadas alrededor de una mesa en la que estaba preparada la cena.
Vestidas de blanco, sus rasgos eran finos y gráciles, el color de su piel un azul muy pálido y sus máscaras estaban inmaculadas.
Al verme, se levantaron y me saludaron en lengua zoraï. Me presenté y les expliqué mi desventura.
Me recibieron amablemente y me invitaron a compartir su comida.
Puse mis guantes en una esquina de la mesa y tomé un taburete.
Comimos y me explicaron que eran dos hermanas cosechadoras que vivían en esta modesta casa.
Pasé una velada muy agradable en su compañía. Estuvimos charlando mucho tiempo sobre cosas y bromeando con ganas hasta bien entrada la noche.
Nos estábamos cansando y me ofrecieron un acogedor sillón. Acepté con gusto y me acurruqué en el.
También esta vez no tardé en quedarme dormido.

Me desperté con un sobresalto al amanecer. Me sorprendió darme cuenta de que estaba acurrucado en el árbol.
Sin embargo, un detalle llamó mi atención en la distancia...
Al igual que la noche anterior, había una cabaña apoyada en una escarpada, pero en avanzado estado de deterioro.
Intrigado, me acerqué a la puerta y entré.
El interior era similar al de la cabaña de las dos Zoraï, pero tenía el aspecto de haber estado abandonada durante siglos.
Había una gran mesa y tres taburetes cubiertos de polvo y telarañas.
Desconcertado, estaba a punto de marcharme cuando de repente lo vi allí, en la esquina de la mesa: mi par de guantes, en perfecto estado, en la misma posición que recordaba.
Tuve una repentina sensación de inquietud, así que los recogí y salí de la cabaña a toda prisa.

¿Qué había pasado esa noche? ¿Había soñado? ¿Me había jugado una mala pasada el Viento Malo? O tal vez sea sólo un cuento...

¿Quién sabe?

A Sad Story, told by Wieny

This is the story of a child whose family was convinced that he was cursed.

From the moment he was born, they tried to see how the curse would reveal itself. Everyone watched him grow up wondering how the curse would show itself. The years passed, the Cursed grew into a strong young man full of promise, but unable to see the blessings that nature had given him. He lived on the fringes of his family and friends, suffering their implicit rejection and knowing that they would do something terrible to him if he turned out to be as cursed as he was supposed to be, and he kept his distance from the other homins, afraid of bringing the same curse upon their heads.

One day, however, as he stood on the edge of an assembly like ours, one of the people present noticed him and smiled. This smile warmed the heart of the Cursed, who had not had many such sincere smiles. Some time later he ran into this person again, who stopped for a moment to talk to him, still with such kindness. The Cursed knew he had to stay away from this person so as not to attract the curse, but her gentleness was so good for him that he began to seek her company. Before he knew it, he was deeply in love.

It was, however, a hopeless love. He could not live it, for fear of his family's reactions. And he soon realized that Mayu, his great love, showed as much kindness and gentleness towards many people. Mayu loved people, but did not love the Cursed as much as he loved her. To be alone on the edge of the world, when that is all you have known, is already terribly sad. But once one has tasted the hope of being two, it becomes unbearable to accept this loneliness.

The Cursed tried to give up on Mayu, but invariably ended up by her side when the opportunity presented itself. If a ragus put Mayu in danger, then the Cursed would come running, put the predator to flight, and raise his love, hiding the depth of his trouble. If Mayu wanted a story, then the Cursed would find a tale, and if Mayu wanted peace, then the Cursed would retreat, weeping over the coldness of his love. The Cursed was jealous of anyone who could get close to Mayu. However, since Mayu loved them, then he tried to love them too. The Cursed was going crazy with this loneliness as well as with this impossible love. Every day he was getting further away from his family. Every day he toyed with the idea of this curse, wondering if it was the key to his deliverance, but at the same time he was afraid to think about it. His family was surveying him, and Mayu ignored him.

Life became so painful for him that he longed for one thing only: that his seed of life would break. Sometimes, however, he wished that it was the seed of life of all the other homins that broke. Even Mayu's. Then the thought horrified him. His madness was getting bigger and bigger. Was it the curse that finally expressed itself or did he have to make real what he had been foretold? He became more and more violent and bitter, until he extinguished every spark of love and sweetness in his heart.

I would like to say that this story had a happy ending, and that a solution was found. But alas...

The Cursed eventually came across a sorcerer with immense powers. This wizard knew many things that were inaccessible to ordinary homins. He could have freed the Cursed from his curse, or made his family more loving, or helped the Cursed to be loved by Mayu. He could have revealed to him the mysteries of Night and Time that would have made these stories futile. But the Cursed didn't believe in any of that, didn't hope for anything. He asked the wizard for the easiest thing in the world for someone like him: something to destroy a seed of life. It may have been easy, but it was also sad, and the wizard tried to divert the Cursed from his purpose by asking him for a price that was far too high. But the Cursed paid the price and swallowed the poison.

The story does not say whether anyone mourned the death of the Cursed. However, the one who told me this story had tears in his eyes. Who knows where these tears came from? When the wind of Anlor Winn blows, take care of your loved ones. Love them fully and unconditionally. There is no better cure for curses.