happy \\p// \\i// day everybody

celebrate the irrational.

msn messenger and icq

that might be the problem. i don't think passwords are md5 any more. try clearing an re-importing the database. or atleast the accounts table

what are "code::blocks"?

licensing fee aren't covered as revenue with regards to the unreal engine. however, any content that is sold that appears in game does count as revenue.

fah, magick, whatever that is. i deal in magic all day. i make the gestures, speak the incantations and beings of all stripes bend to my will.

magic is just knowledge by a different name.

Don't see why you'd have to. It is a standard bit of shtick from the first few seasons of the Simpsons.

Claye met up with Aliisha after supper. She sat on a bench outside in the cooling night air. He sat down beside her. "How much have things changed? The roads down to the forge are still open?"

"Yes," she said. "Still rough, but better traveled than back in our day. Though I have heard word that a cave system has been mapped that can take you from near Hydlaa to the forge, near Berrihm."

Claye shook his head. "That's a third of the way around from Himduahr. I'd lose anything I would gain."

"Why there?"

"About half a day from there is a cave.  Within it is a portal to the death realm."

Aliisha shuddered. "The death realm. Why would you want to find a way into there?"

"Because there is a portal to home in there."

"There must be another one somewhere. You know that something watches that realm closely and is jealous of all the souls sent that way."

Claye shrugged. "There might be. But, it was a guess off a hunch even to even find that one. Needs must --"

"When the devil drives." Aliisha finished. "I know what you mean when you say that. But, I never understood the phrase." She turned to look at him. "Claye, why didn't you come back, even if only for a little while."

He looked up into the dim light of the crystal. "We thought about it. But, every time there are was the price of our return home. It was too high to pay again, if there was a choice. I paid it to keep a promise to her father and for her. After Robinea died, I considered it. Even if I wasn’t going to come back… " He looked towards where Olwen was sleeping. "But, I'll pay it again for her."

--------------------------

"Close your eyes before I start to take the bandages off," Cali said to Olwen.

Olwen nodded. She felt the bandages loosen and be unwound. Two pads of felt fell off her eyes. She felt the last of the bandage be pulled off.

"Don't open your eyes yet," her uncle said. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Whatever you see, don't panic." she felt her uncle shift.

"Open them slowly," Cali said.

Olwen opened her eyes. She saw the beige wall at her feet, yellowed by the light of an oil lamp. She looked down at the blanket covering her legs. The blurs of colour focused into a simple geometric pattern. She followed her uncle's arm. He looked as young as he did in the two pictures on his mantle. They had been taken just before and a little bit after his only trip abroad, he had told her. Claye moved to one side keeping a grip in Olwen's shoulder.

In a chair sat, with the bandages folded in its paws, a large cat. Claye gently squeezed Olwen's shoulder. It had similar colouring to a cheetah. She saw that rather than the usual cat body it was closer to human. The head though it was very cat like.

"Good evening, Olwen," Cali said.

"Good evening, Cali," Olwen said. "It is good to see you."

Cali chuckled, "it is good to be seen." She stood up. "I'll leave you two. I think there may be more you need to talk about."

As the curtain moved Olwen caught site of rough rock outside the room. Claye released Olwen's shoulder. He walked around and sat in the chair.

"What was that?" Olwen said.

"That was an enkidukai, enki for short. And someone who helped to look after you the past week."

"Are all the other races like that?"

"For the most part. The klyros have wings and have rather different look to them."

"How did you get used to it?"

"I believed in the concept of race, black being a different race from white. White different from yellow. Like most people in my youth, to greater or lesser degrees. From there it was a simple leap."

"Why didn't you ever tell anybody about the crystal, this place?"

"Would you have believed me if I told you last week. When I came back they would have locked me up in the loony bin. No one asked, and I never told."

"What did you do while you were here? Aliisha said you had marched with a demon."

Clay closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. Memories of blood, steel, flames, and screams came back to him. He opened his eyes. "I was a solider in a mercenary company, The Viscosan Regiment. We were among the best. Arguments were made that we were the best. Usually shortly before a brawl broke out.

“The demon was our leader. Well that's what he was called, he was a man like most others. He was a strong warrior, an even better solider, and a truly gifted smith."

Olwen looked at him with horror and disgust. "You killed people for money?"

"A bad reason, true. But a better reason than most." Claye leaned forward. "It was a different time. There were constant battles between various warlords. It was a way to survive until we could find a way home." Claye say back in the chair. "And things were getting better."

"Violence never makes things better." she said. "It never solves problems."

"No. It is never the best solution for a problem. Back then it was just the least worst."

--------------------------

Olwen slowly climbed up the ladder. Cali stood at the top and looked down. Claye followed close behind ready to catch her if she slipped. They climbed up into a flagstone floored room. The walls were a white washed plaster. Pale blue light streamed in through a window.

"Very good, kit", Cali said. "You’re getting your strength back nicely."

Olwen straightened and took a deep breath, as Claye climbed up behind her. He stepped around and walked to the door. He opened it and looked out.

"You'll have to shield your eyes a bit." He said. "It's a bit brighter, than down below."

She walked to the door. She flinched in the bright light and squinted. She looked up, shielding her eyes with her hand.

"But, I thought it was just a primitive belief." she said. "Just a metaphor for something."

"No," Claye said. "It is pretty much just as you were told."

"But..."

"I heard a story once," Claye said. "A student once said to a teacher, ‘How silly those people long ago were, thinking that the sun went around the earth, when obviously it is the other way around.' 'Yes, perhaps,' the teacher said. 'But, I wonder what it would look like if it did.'"

--------------------------

The jeweler looked at the two rings, and the gold band. He tapped a gloved forefinger on the table. The fur over his eyes was worn by the arms of the glasses that hung down around his neck. There was a similar wear around his left eye, the loupe the second of the three items hanging from his neck. "Hmm... I don't recognize the smithing marks. But, the gold marks a bit better than your claim. Hmm... The stones, are a better cut than I’ve seen in a while. Hmm..." He stopped tapping his finger and looked at Olwen standing impatiently by the door. He looked at Claye sitting calmly in the chair opposite him. "But, there is you. Those who can afford such as these, don't need to sell them. Hmm..." he started to tap the table again.

Claye shrugged. "They were my grandfather's. He got them fighting in the companies before the octarchs."

The enki nodded. "Hmm... So you say. And there is her. Hmm... Two young people looking for money, selling their bobbles. Hmm... Will there be an angry father or another suitor that would cross my door looking for her? Hmm..." He chuckled at Olwen's shocked expression.

"Only an angry father if I don't get her home. And no suitor that I'm aware of given the complaining that she did a week ago."

"Hmm... So you say. Then there is how you want the tria. A quarter of it in tria, the rest as a trader's note. Hmm... So many things slightly different from the usual." He stopped tapping his finger and looked Claye in the eye. "1500"

"I could get that from the beggar at the gate. 3500"

"No beggar that. Leave me to with something to get meat for my kits. 2000"

"Your kits look old enough to hunt on their own. You could sell these for four times that. 3300"

"As is? I'll have to recast the gold and reset the stones. Take me weeks. 2500"

"Weeks? I heard you were among the best in Ojaveda. You could have it done in two days. They'd be lined up to look at it, and fighting to buy it. 3000"

"Among? Ha! I am the best. 2700"

"I heard that too. 2700"

The jeweler started tapping his finger again. "Hmm... very good. 600 with the balance in note?"

"That will do well."

"Yeschant."

"Yes, master?" A young lemur poked his head around a curtain in one wall.

"600 tria, and a blank note," the jeweler said to him.

"Yes, master." The apprentice pulled back behind the curtain.

Claye raised an eyebrow in interest.

"Hmm... I know. I was surprised too when he asked to apprentice. Hmm... But he learns, and works hard. So I can't complain. Hmm..."

The apprentice brought a small leather purse that clinked when it settled on the table and a sheet of parchment. The jeweler pushed the purse towards Claye as he reached for the quill and ink. Claye opened the purse and counted put the six hundred tria. The jeweler turned the parchment around. Claye nodded as he read the amount and signature on the sheet. He slid the tria back into the purse as the jeweler poured a dollop of wax on the sheet and pressed a seal into it. He folded it in thirds, the seal on the inside. He slid it across to Claye as he stood up.

Claye tied the purse to his belt. He picked up the note and tucked it into his jacket. The jeweler picked up the rings and handed them to his apprentice.

"Hmm... A pleasure doing business with you."

Claye bowed slightly, "and with you." He turned and left the shop with Olwen behind him. She cast a quick look at the lemur before going outside.

"What was that?" she said after they had gone round the corner.

"That was a lemur. One of the first races." Claye said.

They walked along the streets towards Dsar Kore.

"The ones created by Lannx?"

"Yes," Claye nodded. "Usually they are more concerned with more refined things and scholarly pursuits than the trades." Claye shrugged. "But if he's happy and productive, I can't really argue against it."

They stopped in front of a blacksmith. "But, let's get you kitted out. We have a fair ways to go, and a fair bit to get." The ringing of a hammer on metal came out, every third note clearer than the others.

"How far?" Olwen said.

"About nine days," he said as he went inside.

The stonehammer inside looked up from the anvil. His beard was braided in two plaits and had been thrown over his one shoulder. "Yes?" He said between hammer blows.

"Two daggers. A smaller one for her and one for me." Claye said. He broke his words between the sounds of ringing metal.

The stonehammer picked up the piece of metal, half a breastplate, off the anvil. He turned it over and looked at the other side. He ran a finger along the four inch weld in the center of the piece. Claye frowned when he saw the weld. Anything that would have left a cut like that in the metal would have killed the person inside. The stonehammer noticed Claye's concern.

"He survived. Took a couple of healers a few hours to bring him back though. Figures he might get full range of motion in his shoulder back." He picked up the piece and placed it back with the rest of the armour. When he turned, the beard was shown to be plaited down his back with the rest of his hair. "I'm Enlagsson. So, two daggers. You want them now or later?"

"I'd prefer them now. But, let's see what you've got, and we can work from there."

Enlagsson looked Olwen up and down. "Okay miss, let's take a look at your hands."

Olwen walked over and held out her hands. He turned them over a couple of times. As he did an iron grey ring on the little finger of his left hand caught the light. He looked over at Claye. "Will she need a cross or a full shield?"

"Cross, the blade about the length of her hand, hand and a half," Claye said.

"Easy enough, I have a couple of blanks that can be worked easily to size. Would be... " He looked at Olwen's hand again, "a hand and a bit. Leather cord for the grip? Balanced for both hands?"

"Yes."
 
Enlagsson walked over to Claye. "I have a feeling that you might be more interesting." He looked at Claye's hands. "Hmm, I can see some faded calluses." He looked up into Claye's eyes. "Yes... Full shield?"

"No. Cross as well. One of the arms extended into a loop to the pommel, except leave the bottom open Smooth surface.  For the blade, one edge straight the other curved to meet it. Both sides given an edge. Roughly eight or nine inches long."

Enlagsson milked his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "It's an odd shape. But doable. The shield will risk bending in."

"If I need to use it that way then I won't be in much of a mood to care about it." Claye said with a smile.

"Two days, 440."

Claye nodded and counted 200 tria out of the purse. "The rest when you are done. We'll be back around midday tomorrow to check the fit."

Enlagsson dropped the tria into nearby box. "Midday. See you then." He nodded and picked up an arm piece from the pile of armour on the table. It was nearly cut in half.

Claye stepped into the street. He considered the next purchase they'd have to make.

Olwen followed. "Why would I need a dagger? I don't have the first idea on how to use it."

"You hold on to the dull end. Then you try to stick the sharp end into the other guy." Claye turned towards the general market district. "I'll teach you the basics. It is a dangerous out there, and it is a useful everyday tool."

"I don't see how."

"You will." Claye looked down at her slippered feet. "Yes, boots and clothes next."

They walked back towards the center of the market district. They stopped in front of a clothing store. Claye walked in. The elderly ynnwn looked up. His skin was heavily wrinkled and dark red. His horns curled up and back into his long white hair. Olwen paused and stepped back from the doorway.

"What can I get you today?" The ynnwn said.

"Travelling clothes and a solid pair of boots," Claye said. "Comfortable but hard wearing."

"For you," the ynnwn nodded and smiled towards Olwen. "Or the timid one there?"

Claye looked back, "the timid one."

The ynnwn came around from the back of the counter. "Come forward child. Let’s get you sized up."

Olwen stepped into the shop. The ynnwn lifted one if her arms. "Okay, I should have a couple of things that are hard wearing that should fit." He turned and went into the back.

"What is that?" Olwen whispered to Claye. "It looks like some kind of devil."

"That is a ynnwn." Claye whispered back. "They only look like that because of our history, not theirs."

The shopkeeper came back out.  He laid some shirts and pants on the counter. "Hard wearing I can do. Comfortable I can do. Both is tricky. But, a good set of under clothes and you should be good."

Claye walked over and looked at them. Claye looked at the shirts. They were leather and simply made. He pinched and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger "tefu or goujah?"

"Tefu. The trapper brought them in last winter." The shopkeeper shrugged. "I seldom have call for this style. But something whispered to me maybe I should have a set done."

Claye looked at the seams. They had been closely and double stitched with a thick thread. The lining was a light fabric.

Olwen walked over to a dress that was hanging on the wall. It was beaded in pastel swirls.

"The dress is cotton," the ynnwn said. "It would be something nice for the festival."

Claye turned to look at the dress and back to the shirt. He picked it up and held it up against Olwen. "Okay." He held the pants against Olwen. She frowned and shuffled away. "A little bit long, but it will work."

The ynnwn nodded. "Cotton under clothes as well?"

Claye nodded. The ynnwn pulled a short shirt and a pair of shorts of a shelf behind him.

"A second pair of shorts," Claye said.

"Yes, yes, good thinking," the ynnwn nodded. "The missus, may she rest, always said such things came as a surprise." He looked at Olwen's slippered feet. "Well, given you're getting these, you'll need a solid pair of boots."

He went into the back again. Olwen looked at the shirt and the pants.

"They're pretty plain," she sniffed. "And leather besides. Some poor animal died for it."

"There aren't many options, and there aren't any synthetics around here either. These will save you from a lot of scrapes and such."

"And these won't do?" She gestured at the clothes she wore.

Claye shook his head. "They'll shred the first day out."

"It's not like we'll be wandering around in the wilderness."

"Wandering, no. We will have a direction. But, it will be wilderness And it will be easier if you don't have to hold your pants together."

The ynnwn came out of the back of the shop. He placed a pair of boots on the counter. "They’re smallest pair I have. But, they are made company style."

Claye picked up one of the boots. Have turned it over in his hands.

"Goujah," the shop keeper said.

“Not quite what I remember. But, it has been a while since I’ve seen a new pair.”

“True. The style has changed in the time of the octarchs. These came from a supplier for a few of the companies based here.”

Claye nodded. “Many things have changed.” He placed the boot on the counter. “How much?”

“200 for the lot.”

Claye looked at the dress on the wall and at Olwen.