Организатор мероприятия: Команда Организаторов Мероприятий.
Тип мероприятия: OOC-мероприятия, мини-игры, сюрпризы и жуткое веселье!
Подходящие уровни: Все.

Дата проведения мероприятия: Начиная с Пятница, 29 Октября 2021 19:00:00 UTC (3 года назад).
Ожидаемая продолжительность: 10 дней.
Место встречи: По всему Атису.

Заинтересованные хомины: Все.
Краткий обзор: Анлор Винн 2615 года Джены веет над Атисом своими OOC-мероприятиями.
Узнать больше: Подробное объявление & Токены Анлор

Creator of the event: Event team.
Type of event: Scary stories Sharing Session.
Appropriate levels: All.

Date of the event: Воскресенье, 7 Ноября 2021 20:00:00 UTC (3 года назад).
Expected duration: About two hours.
Meeting place: Anlor Winn Village in Almati Wood.

Homins concerned: All.
Synopsis: Come and scare Anlor Winn itself with your creations or just listen and encourage the storytellers.
To learn more: IC announcement

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

The Story of Fyrosfreddy, told by Khandoma

While sitting in the Fairhaven Bar one evening, I heard a tale that explained the status of the now abandoned Corrie Finley Farm located in The Fount.
The storyteller / traveller told a tale of meeting the ghost of Corrie Finley who, with her husband Fyrosfreddy, operated the family farm in Fount for 3 decades.
The work was hard but the hardest part for Fyrosfreddy was dealing with this wife Corrie. She was a mean taskmaster and nothing he ever did was good enough.
One day when he stopped for lunch, apparently he was taking too long of a break and she came out to scold him.
As she launched into her tirade, she happened to be standing behind Freddy's mektoub who loved Freddy very much but was not too fond of his wife. As she lifted her walking stick to whack him one to get him moving, the mektoub kicked her in the head with his hind legs and killed her.

When the funeral services were held, the man telling the tale at the bar said Corrie's ghost had been present when the hominas went up to express their sentiments to Freddy, and the ghost observed that he responded only by nodding his head up and down ...
Corrie's ghost also observed that when the homins came up to speak to him, he unerringly responded by turning his head left and right, back and forth.
However, Corrie was unable to hear what questions they had asked Freddy to which he had responded with the nodding and head shaking.

The ghost of Corrie Finley said that she could not rest without knowing what her husband Freddy had said and that the ghost would haunt the traveller until he found it out for her.
The traveller / story teller searched for 5 long years and each year during Anlor Winn, Corrie would return and make his life miserable.
His weapons lost their sharpness, his packers and mount got ill, harvesting weather always prevented him from getting what he needed.

Then one day, he finally met a homina named Khandoma who attended the services.
She told him that she had overheard the homina's askings to Freddy : they had wanted to know if he would continue on at the farm and continue to supply them with all the quality farm produce that Corrie had brought to market over the years, to which Freddy had nodded up and down telling them yes.

Then the ghost anxiously asked: “And what was it that the homin asked Freddy when he responded by turning his head left and right ?”
The traveller responded: I was told that the men “wanted to know if the mektoub was for sale, and if so, would he take less than 10 million dappers ?”

Original

Une histoire terrifiante, racontée par Krill

Krill prend une bouteille de byrh pleine et se lève.
« Mon histoire se passe juste après le Premier Essaim, dans la région qu'on appelle aujourd'hui le Bosquet de la Confusion.
La région était encore largement inconnue lorsque... comment il s'appelait déjà ? Le père de machin ? Toub…
Bref. C'était juste après l'époque où la ville d'Yrkanis a été fondée… Ah ben oui. Par le père d'Yrkanis. Logique. »

Krill boit une byhr.
« Je disais quoi ? Ah oui. Y'avait un Matis qui s'appelait Velad, ou Valad. C'était un grand curieux, et il explorait la Forêt pour le compte de son roi. Le père d'Yrkanis... Et il était donc occupé à cartographier le labyrinthe au nord du Bosquet de la Confusion. Et c'était pas de tout repos. Encore pire qu'aujourd'hui. Il y avait quand même des homins qui s'étaient déjà installés. C'est que ça va plus vite de planter un camp que de fonder une ville, hein.
Et Velad tomba donc un jour sur un camp quelque part au Bosquet Supérieur. C'était pas un gros camp. Quelques poignées d'homins et d'homines tout au plus… »

Krill prend une bouteille de byrh pleine et se lève.
« … et c'était pas trop la joie dans leur campement. Il a fallu un peu de temps à Velad pour s'en rendre compte, d'ailleurs. Mais au bout d'un moment, il a fini par réaliser. Tout le camp crevait de trouille. Il les a fait un peu causer. Et alors, ils lui ont raconté. »

Krill finit sa bouteille de byrh.
« Ils lui ont raconté que, toutes les nuits, une bête énorme aux yeux rouges rôdait aux alentours. Qu'elle attaquait et mordait les homins, mais qu'elle ne les tuait pas. Et c'était ça le plus bizarre. On retrouvait ses victimes inconscientes le matin, quelque part autour du camp, sans aucun souvenir de ce qui s'était passé. Mais avec la trace des crocs dans la chair. Ensuite, ils faiblissaient, lentement mais sûrement, et finissaient par mourir. »

Krill cherche une nouvelle bouteille de byrh dans son sac et boit un coup.
« À l'époque, les homins ne s'étaient pas encore rendus compte que les Puissances pouvaient les ramener. Ou les Puissances ne le faisaient pas encore systématiquement.
Mais le pire, ce n'était pas ça. C'est que les corps, enterrés loin du campement, disparaissaient. Pas comme nous avec les Puissances. Non. Comme si quelque chose avait creusé l'écorce où ils reposaient, depuis le sous-sol, de l'intérieur. »

Krill fait une pause, et en profite pour boire un coup.
« Mais Velad avait vu beaucoup de choses, à commencer par le Premier Essaim. Il n'avait pas peur. Et donc, à la nuit tombée, il prit ses armes et se mit à faire des rondes autour du camp. »

Krill boit une bonne rasade de byrh et murmure pour elle-même : "Stupide Matis prétentieux."
« Mais bon. Ce qui devait arriver arriva et, à un moment de la nuit, Velad finit bien par tomber sur une bête gigantesque. Avec d'énormes yeux rouges. Et des dents plus grandes encore. »

Krill mime de gros yeux et des dents terrifiantes.
« Il était un peu prétentieux, c'est sûr. Mais il était aussi sacrément doué comme combattant, il faut bien le reconnaître. Et donc, il entama le combat. En essayant de rester hors de portée des crocs. Sans cesse, il frappait, parait, revenait à l'attaque. La bête esquivait, elle était rapide. Et elle ripostait. Mais Velad parait et revenait à l'attaque. Encore et encore.
Malgré tout, le combat était équilibré, aucun des deux adversaires ne parvenant à prendre l'avantage.
Et la nuit avançait, le jour approchait. »

Krill finit sa deuxième bouteille de byrh.
« Et, alors que la lumière commençait tout doucement à croître, la bête trébucha… Velad profita de l'occasion pour lui entailler profondément la patte avant droite.
La bête hurla de douleur.
Mais alors que Velad s'apprêtait à porter le coup de grâce, la bête fit brusquement demi-tour et s'enfuit dans ce qui restait de nuit… Velad manqua s'effondrer de fatigue et, quand même, un peu de soulagement.
Mais d'abord et avant tout, il vérifia rapidement ses blessures, car il se souvenait de ce que lui avaient dit ceux du camp. Il avait des griffures par dizaines, car les griffes de la bête étaient acérées aussi, mais heureusement il n'y avait pas trace de morsure.
Velad était épuisé, mais il regagna cependant le camp qui se réveillait doucement. Tout le monde était là, et quand la nouvelle du combat se répandit, tout le monde vint le féliciter. C'était la première fois que quelqu'un réussissait à affronter la bête avec succès, et tout le monde fit une grande fête. Et Velad rentra chez lui avec le sentiment du devoir accompli. »

Krill vide une bouteille de byrh d'un coup.
« Le plus drôle dans cette histoire, c'est que je n'ai jamais vu de tribu dans le labyrinthe du Bosquet Supérieur… »

Krill range ses bouteilles vides dans son sac.
« Par contre, qu'est-ce qu'il y a comme jugulas... »

Original

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

A Freaky Story, told by Umaena

It was a brilliant autumn afternoon and I had set out to explore the jungle of the Cities of Intuition.
As the day drew to a close, somewhere on the edge of Maiden Grove, I hurried along to avoid being caught in the dark, when a thick fog rose from the ground.
I was quickly surrounded by the mists. The air was freezing and I couldn't see beyond three meters ahead. No sound from the profuse jungle could reach my ears.
Worried, I kept wandering for several hours without knowing where I was really going before I came upon a tree with a hollow trunk.
Exhausted, I huddled inside the cavity and did not take long to fall asleep.

I was awakened with a start in the middle of the night. I don't know exactly why. The fog had lifted and a light caught my attention in the distance.
Approaching with caution, I saw that it was a simple wooden hut, leaning against an escarpment, whose open door let out a soft light.
Bucked up, I decided to present myself at the door. Two young Zorai were seated around a table on which dinner was set.
Dressed in white, their features were fine and graceful, the color of their skin a very pale blue and their masks were immaculate.
At the sight of me, they stood up and greeted me in the Zorai language. I introduced myself and explained my misadventure.
They welcomed me kindly and invited me to share their meal.
I put my gloves on a corner of the table and took a stool.
We ate and they explained to me that they were two harvesting sisters who lived in this modest house.
I spent a very pleasant evening in their company. We chatted for a long time about things and joked heartily until late at night.
We were getting tired and they offered me a cozy armchair. I gladly accepted and curled up in the chair.
This time again, it didn't take me long to fall asleep.

I was awakened with a start at the break of the day. I was surprised to realize that I was snuggled up in the tree!
However, a detail attracted my attention in the distance…
Like the previous night, a hut was standing there, leaning against an escarpment, but in an advanced state of dilapidation.
Intrigued, I approached the door and entered.
The interior was similar to the two Zorai's hut, but looked as if it had been abandoned for centuries.
A large table and three stools covered with dust and cobwebs stood there.
Puzzled, I was about to leave when I suddenly saw it there, at the corner of the table: my pair of gloves, in perfect condition, in the same position as I remembered.
I had a sudden feeling of uneasiness, so I picked them up and left the cabin with haste.

What has happened that night? Did I dream? Had the Bad Wind played a trick on me? Or maybe it's just a story…

Who knows?

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.