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

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

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?

Eine traurige Geschichte, erzählt von Wieny

Dies ist die Geschichte eines Kindes, dessen Familie davon überzeugt war, dass es verflucht war.

Von seiner Geburt an wollte man sehen, wie sich der Fluch äußern würde. Alle beobachteten ihn beim Aufwachsen und fragten sich, wie sich der Fluch wohl äußern würde. Die Jahre vergingen und der Verfluchte wuchs zu einem starken und vielversprechenden jungen Homin heran, der jedoch nicht in der Lage war, die Segnungen zu erkennen, mit denen die Natur ihn ausgestattet hatte. Er lebte am Rande seines Volkes, erlebte ihre implizite Ablehnung und wusste, dass sie ihm ein schreckliches Schicksal bereiten würden, sollte er sich als so verflucht erweisen, wie man annahm. Und er hielt sich von anderen Homins fern, weil er Angst davor hatte, denselben Fluch auf ihr Haupt zu ziehen.

Eines Tages jedoch, als er am Rande einer Versammlung wie der unseren stand, bemerkte ihn eine der Anwesenden und lächelte ihn an. Dieses Lächeln erwärmte das Herz des Verfluchten, denn er hatte selten ein so aufrichtiges Lächeln gesehen. Einige Zeit später begegnete er dieser Person wieder und sie hielt kurz inne, um mit ihm zu sprechen, immer noch mit so viel Freundlichkeit. Der Verfluchte wusste, dass er sich von ihr fernhalten musste, um den Fluch nicht auf sich zu ziehen, aber ihre Sanftheit tat ihm so gut, dass er ihre Gesellschaft suchte. Bevor er sich versah, war er zutiefst verliebt.

Es war jedoch eine Liebe ohne Hoffnung. Er konnte sie nicht ausleben, weil er Angst vor den Reaktionen seiner Familie hatte. Und er verstand sehr schnell, dass Mayu, seine große Liebe, für viele Menschen genauso viel Güte und Sanftheit zeigte. Mayu liebte die Menschen, aber sie liebte den Verwünschten nicht so sehr, wie dieser sie liebte. Allein am Rande der Welt zu sein, wenn man nichts anderes gekannt hat, ist schon schrecklich traurig. Aber wenn man einmal die Hoffnung gekostet hat, zu zweit zu sein, wird es unerträglich, diese Einsamkeit zu akzeptieren.

Der Verfluchte versuchte, auf Mayu zu verzichten, aber ausnahmslos landete er an ihrer Seite, wenn sich die Gelegenheit ergab. Wenn ein Ragus Mayu in Gefahr brachte, dann eilte der Verfluchte herbei, schlug das Raubtier in die Flucht und hob seine Liebe wieder auf, wobei er die Tiefe seiner Verwirrung verbarg. Wenn Mayu eine Geschichte wollte, dann ging der Verfluchte, um eine Geschichte zu finden, und wenn Mayu Frieden wollte, dann zog sich der Verfluchte zurück und weinte über die Kälte seiner Liebe. Der Verfluchte war eifersüchtig auf jeden, der sich Mayu nähern konnte. Doch wenn Mayu sie liebte, dann bemühte er sich, sie auch zu lieben. Der Verfluchte wurde von dieser Einsamkeit ebenso verrückt wie von dieser unmöglichen Liebe. Jeden Tag entfernte er sich weiter von seiner Familie. Jeden Tag spielte er mit dem Gedanken an den Fluch, fragte sich, ob er der Schlüssel zu seiner Befreiung sei, und fürchtete sich gleichzeitig davor, daran zu denken. Seine Familie beobachtete ihn und Mayu wusste nichts davon.

Das Dasein wurde ihm so schwer, dass er sich nur noch nach einem sehnte: dass seine Lebenssaat zerbrechen würde.
Manchmal träumte er jedoch davon, dass der Lebenssamen aller anderen Homins zerbrechen würde. Sogar der von Mayu. Dann entsetzte ihn dieser Gedanke. Sein Wahnsinn wurde immer größer. War es der Fluch, der endlich zum Ausdruck kam, oder musste er das, was ihm vorhergesagt worden war, Wirklichkeit werden lassen? Er wurde immer gewalttätiger und verbitterter, bis er jeden Funken Liebe und Sanftmut in seinem Herzen auslöschte.

Ich würde gerne sagen, dass diese Geschichte gut ausgegangen ist und dass eine Lösung gefunden wurde. Leider ...

Der Verfluchte begegnete schließlich einem Zauberer mit ungeheuren Kräften. Dieser Zauberer wusste viele Dinge, die den gewöhnlichen Homins nicht zugänglich waren. Er hätte den Verfluchten von seinem Fluch befreien, seine Familie zärtlicher machen oder dem Verfluchten helfen können, sich bei Mayu beliebt zu machen. Er hätte ihr die Geheimnisse der Nacht und der Zeit enthüllen können, was diese Geschichten sinnlos gemacht hätte. Aber der Verfluchte glaubte an nichts von all dem und hoffte auf nichts mehr. Er bat den Zauberer um die einfachste Sache der Welt für jemanden wie ihn: um etwas, womit man einen Samen des Lebens zerstören könnte. Das war vielleicht einfach, aber es war auch traurig, und der Zauberer versuchte, den Verfluchten von seinem Ziel abzulenken, indem er einen viel zu hohen Preis verlangte.
Doch der Verwünschte zahlte den Preis und schluckte das Gift.

Die Geschichte erzählt nicht, ob jemand den Tod des Verfluchten betrauerte. Doch der Mann, der mir diese Geschichte erzählte, hatte Tränen in den Augen. Wer weiß, woher diese Tränen kamen? Wenn der Wind von Anlor Winn weht, kümmern Sie sich um Ihre Lieben.Lieben Sie sie voll und ganz und bedingungslos. Es gibt kein besseres Mittel gegen Flüche.