The Final Challenge Wiki - User contributions [en]

Sylvan

2012-08-04T23:13:56Z

Solaron:

{{Info pc
|name = Sylvan
|incarnation = VII
|styled_as =
|imm_rank =
|created = July 24, 2011
|status = Inactive
|retire_date =
|race =
|hometown =
|classes = {{Class|Warrior}} {{Class|Mage}}
|last_seen =
|followed = [[Cecil]]
|spouse =
|partner =
|parents =
|children =
|relatives =
|areas_written =
|immorted_on =
|following =
|portfolio =
}}

== Mud Contributions: ==
===[Note] Sylvan: V is for Vale.===
Fri Aug 5 13:44:56 2011 
To: all 
Roses are red, violets are blue. 
Vale, you heathen, I must thank you. 
A great raven had slain me, dead I lay 
When along came Vale to save the day 
Though at first reluctant, he did as told 
Returning to this newbie all but my gold 
The celebration in recall was truely a bash 
In a round-about way, You've served Lord Nash 
 
Sylvan, Studious Disciple of Lord Nash 
 
===[Note] Sylvan: In praise of Lord Nash.===
Thu Aug 11 12:25:37 
To: all 
 
With foe slain and power gained, 
An artifact retrieved, 
A plan formed, the gods bane, 
SuperNova's death received. 
 
The perfect Evil carried through, 
The universal demise, 
Encoded in the Apocrypha, 
Brought to life through new eyes. 
 
The perfect god of gods creates, 
Though lesser we would be, 
A whim could have our heads on plates, 
Upon them he could pee. 
 
So Praise Him I implore you, 
Or suffer eternity in a flash, 
The only way to save is through, 
Shouting, 'PRAISE LORD NASH!' 
 
Sylvan, Studious Disciple of Lord Nash. 
 
 
== Current Description: 08/10/11 ==
<pre>
Before you stands a tall, dark skinned half-elf. His eyes are always squinted
and upper lip always risen in a stiff curl as he takes in his surroundings.
Although he is keeping his calm, you get the impression that this battle-mage
is on the edge of bursting into a fit of rage. He seems to be stressed by some
unseen danger. His hand stays always near the handle of his weapon and you
notice some lettering carved into the weapons shaft, it reads:
"Praise Lord Nash"
Sylvan is in perfect health.

Sylvan is using:
<used as light> (Weak magic) (Glowing) the Rod of Blacklight
<worn on finger> (Potent magic) a sophisticated ring
<worn on finger> (Moderate magic) the pale mithril ring
<worn around neck> (Moderate magic) the sparkling pewter amulet
<worn around neck> (Moderate magic) the pale coral amulet
<worn on body> (Potent magic) a quilted cloth commoner's dress
<worn on head> (Moderate magic) a quilted cloth bonnet
<worn on legs> (Potent magic) a pair of quilted cloth breeches
<worn on feet> (Moderate magic) a pair of heavy cloth slippers
<worn on hands> (Moderate magic) a pair of quilted cloth work gloves
<worn on arms> (Invis) (Moderate magic) (Glowing) Midnight Black Bracers
<worn about body> (Moderate magic) a studded leather sash
<worn about waist> (Moderate magic) a black leather swordsman's belt
<worn around wrist> (Moderate magic) the hazy opal bracelet
<worn around wrist> (Moderate magic) a leather bracer
<wielded> (Potent magic) (Heathen) a fishing spear
<held> (Weak magic) (Glowing) an acorn
<worn with pride> the Ebon Sigil Odegra
<worn with pride> the Ebon Sigil Odegra
</pre>
 

== WHO Lists: ==
07/24/11 : Hel [ Ma: 1 ] Sylvan the Half-Elf
08/04/11 : Hel [ Ma:11 Wa: 9 ] Sylvan, Studious Disciple of Lord Nash.
08/20/11 : Hel [ Ma:18 Wa:15 ] Sylvan, Studious Disciple of Lord Nash.
 

== Character History: ==
===Historical Snippet: Aug 6, 2011 - "Learning the Do's and Don'ts"===
(from a [http://forums.tfcmud.com/showthread.php/2317-learning-the-(do)s-and-(don-t)s-of-the-realm Forum Post] )
<pre>
You raise a level!! Lucky you! You get max hit points!

Cordir tells you, 'Congratulations on your Ascension.'.

Someone gossips, 'Gratz Sylvan !'.

You tell Cordir (in common), 'thank you heretic'.

Cordir has transferred you.
The Cooler
[Exits: none]
(Intense Light Cyan Aura) Cordir is here.

Cordir utters the words, 'rift'.
Cordir's soul rift *** ANNIHILATES *** you!
Your cloak is shattered!
You have been KILLED!!

This visit to the afterlife brought to you by Cordir.
</PRE>
 

== Trivia: ==
* [[Sylvan]] received top ranking in [[BlissPoll 2011A]] in the category of "Most Epic Meltdown."
 

== Player Provided Information: ==
 

== Personal Timeline: ==
July 24, 2011: Sylvan is created and levels to 3rd. 
July 28, 2011: Sylvan is involved in a PK attempt with a member of Hunt. After area spelling and engaging Portobello, he claims unfair treatment. 
August 2, 2011: Sylvan has a 'terrible typo' in a gossip in regards to the Wyld Hunt, hitting "C" instead of "H". 
August 4, 2011: [[Another Lesson In Nashite]] is given, this time to Sylvan. 
August 6, 2011: Sylvan is killed by [[Cordir]] for rudeness. 
August 7, 2011: Sylvan petitions to join the Nashite [[Magi]]. 
August 10, 2011: Sylvan has a brief conversation with [[Sabella]] and [[Silonch]], before the girls get to the more important issues of [[How to Accessorize an Outfit]]. 
August 14, 2011: Sylvan appears on the 'The UA Retaliation Directives' list for the [[Nexus]]. 
August 17, 2011: Sylvan explains in a long post on the TFC Forums that he feels peopleare being rude to him. The thread is eventually locked. 
August 18, 2011: The [[Wyld Hunt]] is forbidden by [[Katrana]] to interact further with Sylvan, with the exception being to initiate a PK, haunt, steal, loot, etc. 
August 24, 2011: [[Wish]] informs the [[Magi]] that Sylvan has denounced his Nashite faith and should be considered a full apostate, should he ever return. 
February 05, 2012: Sylvan worships [[Cecil]]. 
March 4, 2012: Sylvan levels to Warrior 18. 
March 06, 2012: Sylvan levels to Mage 25. 
 

== Player Information: ==
 
[[Category:People]]

Sylvan

2012-08-04T23:12:10Z

Solaron: Editing inflammatory (and frankly unnecessary) statement.

{{Info pc
|name = Sylvan
|incarnation = VII
|styled_as =
|imm_rank =
|created = July 24, 2011
|status = Inactive
|retire_date =
|race =
|hometown =
|classes = {{Class|Warrior}} {{Class|Mage}}
|last_seen =
|followed = [[Cecil]]
|spouse =
|partner =
|parents =
|children =
|relatives =
|areas_written =
|immorted_on =
|following =
|portfolio =
}}

== Mud Contributions: ==
===[Note] Sylvan: V is for Vale.===
Fri Aug 5 13:44:56 2011 
To: all 
Roses are red, violets are blue. 
Vale, you heathen, I must thank you. 
A great raven had slain me, dead I lay 
When along came Vale to save the day 
Though at first reluctant, he did as told 
Returning to this newbie all but my gold 
The celebration in recall was truely a bash 
In a round-about way, You've served Lord Nash 
 
Sylvan, Studious Disciple of Lord Nash 
 
===[Note] Sylvan: In praise of Lord Nash.===
Thu Aug 11 12:25:37 
To: all 
 
With foe slain and power gained, 
An artifact retrieved, 
A plan formed, the gods bane, 
SuperNova's death received. 
 
The perfect Evil carried through, 
The universal demise, 
Encoded in the Apocrypha, 
Brought to life through new eyes. 
 
The perfect god of gods creates, 
Though lesser we would be, 
A whim could have our heads on plates, 
Upon them he could pee. 
 
So Praise Him I implore you, 
Or suffer eternity in a flash, 
The only way to save is through, 
Shouting, 'PRAISE LORD NASH!' 
 
Sylvan, Studious Disciple of Lord Nash. 
 
 
== Current Description: 08/10/11 ==
<pre>
Before you stands a tall, dark skinned half-elf. His eyes are always squinted
and upper lip always risen in a stiff curl as he takes in his surroundings.
Although he is keeping his calm, you get the impression that this battle-mage
is on the edge of bursting into a fit of rage. He seems to be stressed by some
unseen danger. His hand stays always near the handle of his weapon and you
notice some lettering carved into the weapons shaft, it reads:
"Praise Lord Nash"
Sylvan is in perfect health.

Sylvan is using:
<used as light> (Weak magic) (Glowing) the Rod of Blacklight
<worn on finger> (Potent magic) a sophisticated ring
<worn on finger> (Moderate magic) the pale mithril ring
<worn around neck> (Moderate magic) the sparkling pewter amulet
<worn around neck> (Moderate magic) the pale coral amulet
<worn on body> (Potent magic) a quilted cloth commoner's dress
<worn on head> (Moderate magic) a quilted cloth bonnet
<worn on legs> (Potent magic) a pair of quilted cloth breeches
<worn on feet> (Moderate magic) a pair of heavy cloth slippers
<worn on hands> (Moderate magic) a pair of quilted cloth work gloves
<worn on arms> (Invis) (Moderate magic) (Glowing) Midnight Black Bracers
<worn about body> (Moderate magic) a studded leather sash
<worn about waist> (Moderate magic) a black leather swordsman's belt
<worn around wrist> (Moderate magic) the hazy opal bracelet
<worn around wrist> (Moderate magic) a leather bracer
<wielded> (Potent magic) (Heathen) a fishing spear
<held> (Weak magic) (Glowing) an acorn
<worn with pride> the Ebon Sigil Odegra
<worn with pride> the Ebon Sigil Odegra
</pre>
 

== WHO Lists: ==
07/24/11 : Hel [ Ma: 1 ] Sylvan the Half-Elf
08/04/11 : Hel [ Ma:11 Wa: 9 ] Sylvan, Studious Disciple of Lord Nash.
08/20/11 : Hel [ Ma:18 Wa:15 ] Sylvan, Studious Disciple of Lord Nash.
 

== Character History: ==
===Historical Snippet: Aug 6, 2011 - "Learning the Do's and Don'ts"===
(from a [http://forums.tfcmud.com/showthread.php/2317-learning-the-(do)s-and-(don-t)s-of-the-realm Forum Post] )
<pre>
You raise a level!! Lucky you! You get max hit points!

Cordir tells you, 'Congratulations on your Ascension.'.

Someone gossips, 'Gratz Sylvan !'.

You tell Cordir (in common), 'thank you heretic'.

Cordir has transferred you.
The Cooler
[Exits: none]
(Intense Light Cyan Aura) Cordir is here.

Cordir utters the words, 'rift'.
Cordir's soul rift *** ANNIHILATES *** you!
Your cloak is shattered!
You have been KILLED!!

This visit to the afterlife brought to you by Cordir.
</PRE>
 

== Trivia: ==
* [[Sylvan]] received top ranking in [[BlissPoll 2011A]] in the category of "Most Epic Meltdown."
 

== Player Provided Information: ==
 

== Personal Timeline: ==
July 24, 2011: Sylvan is created and levels to 3rd. 
July 28, 2011: Sylvan is involved in a PK attempt with a member of Hunt. After area spelling and engaging Portobello, he claims of unfair treatment. 
August 2, 2011: Sylvan has a 'terrible typo' in a gossip in regards to the Wyld Hunt, hitting "C" instead of "H". 
August 4, 2011: [[Another Lesson In Nashite]] is given, this time to Sylvan. 
August 6, 2011: Sylvan is killed by [[Cordir]] for rudeness. 
August 7, 2011: Sylvan petitions to join the Nashite [[Magi]]. 
August 10, 2011: Sylvan has a brief conversation with [[Sabella]] and [[Silonch]], before the girls get to the more important issues of [[How to Accessorize an Outfit]]. 
August 14, 2011: Sylvan appears on the 'The UA Retaliation Directives' list for the [[Nexus]]. 
August 17, 2011: Sylvan explains in a long post on the TFC Forums that he feels peopleare being rude to him. The thread is eventually locked. 
August 18, 2011: The [[Wyld Hunt]] is forbidden by [[Katrana]] to interact further with Sylvan, with the exception being to initiate a PK, haunt, steal, loot, etc. 
August 24, 2011: [[Wish]] informs the [[Magi]] that Sylvan has denounced his Nashite faith and should be considered a full apostate, should he ever return. 
February 05, 2012: Sylvan worships [[Cecil]]. 
March 4, 2012: Sylvan levels to Warrior 18. 
March 06, 2012: Sylvan levels to Mage 25. 
 

== Player Information: ==
 
[[Category:People]]

Talk:Commands

2011-03-09T17:44:52Z

Solaron:

* Removed punctuation "shortcuts" thinking these might better be identified on the specific command page. [[User:Tambalor|Tambalor]] 07:19, 9 March 2011 (MST)
* So how should we organize things when there's more than one meaning for a word? For example, there's a command listed of "Balance" -- that's also a following. And of course, "Score" is both a command and an object Bards need... [[User:Cordir|Cordir]] 08:17, 9 March 2011 (MST)
* I didn't mention but I already directed a couple commands at a "command specific" page. For example areas is linked to "areas (command)" instead of the areas page. Likewise for the "commands" command. I guess I didn't check the whole list. [[User:Tambalor|Tambalor]]
* Wikipedia uses a disambiguation page - we might have to do the same. "Balance: This could refer to the Following (with a link) or the Command (with a link). I saw the same for Equipment - the link in the command list takes you to common equipment, not what the equipment command does, etc. [[User:Solaron|Solaron]]

Main Page

2011-03-09T13:53:35Z

Solaron:

'''Welcome to The Final Challenge (TFC) Wiki'''

This wiki gives TFC players a place to share their knowledge and wisdom with others: it is '''user created content''', for players, by players. '''We invite you to create an account and add to the wiki!''' It was inspired by Corri, who spent lots of time building a useful [http://groups.google.com/group/thefinalchallenge?hl=en wiki] by hand. Corri's pages are hosted by Google. Unfortunately, they are discontinuing the service she is using, which was the motivation for setting up this wiki.

TFC is a [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MUD MUD] - an online text-based multi-player game - that people play at all hours of the day or night for free.

TFC has been on-line since 1994, and has a strong, devoted community of players from all over the world. It has a large, coherent world of some 161 areas, more than 93% of which are original and unique to the realm.

You can also view the [http://forums.tfcmud.com TFC Forums], where players talk about subjects related to the game.

== Common Links ==
[http://groups.google.com/group/thefinalchallenge?hl=en Corri's wiki] - Actual, live content! 

'''General Information''' 
[[Introduction to MUDs]] - For those who have never played a MUD. 
[[Introduction to TFC]] - For those new to ''The Final Challenge''. 
[[Connecting to TFC]] - How to connect to the game. 
[[Character Creation]] - Step by step instructions for creating a character. 
[[Abbreviations Guide]] - What all those abbreviations and acronyms mean. 

'''Basics''' 
[[Classes]] - Character classes. 
[[Races]] - Character races. 
[[Stats]] - Your statistics skill points. 
[[Areas]] - The places within the Realm. 
[[Newbie Help]] - Various Guides for New Players 
[[Commands]] - List of TFC commands, outputs and tips on usage.

'''Practical Information''' 
[[Equipment]] - What exists out in the world and where. 
[[Potions]] - What color does what these days. 
[[Directions]] - How to get where you want to go. 
[[Version 5]] - Information on upcoming TFC version 5. 
[[Tools]] - ZMUD/CMUD triggers and/or macros

'''Flavor and Storyline''' 
[[People]] - (In)famous individuals within ''The Final Challenge''. 
[[Places]] - Immortal Temples, lost zones, interesting places to visit to explore... 
[[Who Had It]] - When rare items were last seen, and who had them. 
[[NPCs]] - (In)famous non-playable characters or Mobs within ''The Final Challenge''. 
[[Logs]] - Notable logs of memorable events within ''The Final Challenge''. 

'''Contributing to TFC''' 
[[Area Writing]] - Information on writing/building areas. 

'''Community''' 
[[Get Togethers]] - gatherings to get to know one another as individuals. 
[http://forums.tfcmud.com TFC Forums] - The Discussion Forums for ''The Final Challenge'' MUD.
<hr>

Anyone who creates an account may create or edit wiki pages. Consult the [http://meta.wikimedia.org/wiki/Help:Contents User's Guide] for information on editing wiki pages.

Talk:Bribe

2011-03-09T13:51:18Z

Solaron:

* So this page is sort of sitting here alone... maybe we need a 'Commands' page? [[User:Cordir|Cordir]] 21:46, 8 March 2011 (MST)
* I would agree - I'll probably just grab a list of all TFC commands and have links from there. I'd like to be able to link to almost any command/spell and see information on what the helpfile says it does and then what it's actually used for. For instance, it would be nice for a new user to know that nobody really uses change weather or call lightning, etc. [[User:Solaron|Solaron]]

Living Lands

2011-03-09T03:06:34Z

Solaron: /* Mobs */

===Location===
Living Lands is located East of Thalos Pass through a fire and rock filled cave.

=== Zone Map ===

[[File:LivingLands.jpg]]

Notes:
* Some of the up/down passages must be opened and may require flying
* You will need a boat to access the alcove, otherwise you can swim underwater to reach it
* The tent is SE of the cave entrance

=== Mobs ===
* Nightwoods of various sizes (saplings, sturdy-looking, stout, tall, great)
** Killing one does not create ghosts, or edible corpses
* Herbalists
** Usually have a satchel and sprig of nightwood

Mountain of Knowledge

2011-03-09T03:03:02Z

Solaron: /* Player Provided Information */

{{Info area
|name = Mountain of Knowledge
|type = Special
|for_race =
|author = Molo
|install_date =
|removal_date =
|location = Northern Continent
}}

== Area Lore/Back Story ==

== General Information/Trivia ==

== Player Provided Information ==

* This zone has the [[Magistrate]], [[Clerk]] and other bounty-related NPCs.
* There is a safe, nospell room with a closable door to the north of the Magistrate.
* Jack, the NPC who will help you dual-class to a melee class and/or make your melee class active, is based in this zone.

== Maps ==
[[File:MoK.jpg|200px|thumb|left|The Mountain of Knowledge: Map by [[Tranquility]] & [[Ptarchyzk]]]]

Bribe

2011-03-09T02:57:23Z

Solaron: Created page with "Command output: * The Clerk says, 'How much?'. * The Clerk hastily erases several marks on your record. The Clerk winks and whispers, 'Just between you and me.'"

Command output: 
* The Clerk says, 'How much?'.
* The Clerk hastily erases several marks on your record. The Clerk winks and whispers, 'Just between you and me.'

BOUNTY

2011-03-09T02:55:57Z

Solaron: Created page with "Outputs: * The Magistrate says, 'Well, if you want playername hauled in, it will cost you 3956040 gold.'. * The Magistrate says, 'You must be seeing things. They aren't aroun..."

Outputs: 
* The Magistrate says, 'Well, if you want playername hauled in, it will cost you 3956040 gold.'.
* The Magistrate says, 'You must be seeing things. They aren't around!'.

Magistrate

2011-03-09T02:53:39Z

Solaron:

The Magistrate of Mount Knowledge looks upon you with no pity in his eyes. 
"Justice will be dealt out according to the laws of this land, now where is 
my clerk with that record of yours? Summon one of those Bounty Hunters, 
I'm certain we shall be needing one," he says under a snicker. "Oh, you 
were wanting to hire one? Well, all it takes is to inquire about the BOUNTY 
on someone and pay the necessary price."
 
 
'''Tips/Use:''' 
* The Magistrate will allow you to hire bounty hunters on another PC with the [[PAYBOUNTY]] command.
* The Magistrate can see anyone on the game using the [[BOUNTY]] command. This is useful for checking if aggressive PCs within your range are on.

Clerk

2011-03-09T02:50:18Z

Solaron: Created page with "The clerk handles thousands of records and files for all of the beings traversing this world. As he turns, you see him holding a file with your name on it. Rubbing his ..."

The clerk handles thousands of records and files for all of the beings 
traversing this world. As he turns, you see him holding a file with your 
name on it. Rubbing his palms together greedily, he winks and says in a 
low whispered voice, "Perhaps we might be able to clean up this record 
before the Magistrate and his bounty hunters catch sight of it. What 
some might call a BRIBE, others would say is just expediting the process." 
 
'''Tips/Use:''' 

* The clerk is responsible for lowering your [[debt]] by using the [[bribe]] command.

Magistrate

2011-03-09T02:47:40Z

Solaron: Created page with "The Magistrate of Mount Knowledge looks upon you with no pity in his eyes. "Justice will be dealt out according to the laws of this land, now where is my clerk with that ..."

The Magistrate of Mount Knowledge looks upon you with no pity in his eyes. 
"Justice will be dealt out according to the laws of this land, now where is 
my clerk with that record of yours? Summon one of those Bounty Hunters, 
I'm certain we shall be needing one," he says under a snicker. "Oh, you 
were wanting to hire one? Well, all it takes is to inquire about the BOUNTY 
on someone and pay the necessary price."
 
 
'''Tips:''' 
* The Magistrate can see anyone on the game. This is useful for checking if aggressive PCs within your range are on.

Mountain of Knowledge

2011-03-09T02:42:00Z

Solaron: /* Player Provided Information */

{{Info area
|name = Mountain of Knowledge
|type = Special
|for_race =
|author = Molo
|install_date =
|removal_date =
|location = Northern Continent
}}

== Area Lore/Back Story ==

== General Information/Trivia ==

== Player Provided Information ==

* This zone has the [[Magistrate]], [[Clerk]] and other bounty-related NPCs.
* There is a safe, nospell room with a closable door to the north of the Magistrate.

== Maps ==
[[File:MoK.jpg|200px|thumb|left|The Mountain of Knowledge: Map by [[Tranquility]] & [[Ptarchyzk]]]]

Kharad-Delving

2011-03-09T02:38:32Z

Solaron: /* General Information */

{{Info area
|name = Kharad Delving
|type = EXP Zone
|for_race =
|author = [[Tokugawa]] [[Cordir]]
|install_date = Prior to 1999.
|location = Northern Continent
}}

== General Information ==

* Kharad Delving is found to the east and south of Midgaard.
* The concept of the zone is a small Dwarven settlement, with multiple "floors" including mines, craft halls, residential sections, and royalty/government areas.
* The Delving contains a Temple to [[Tynian]] (marked as Delving Chapel on the map).
** The altar can be opened and contains two non-drop items. Best to leave them be. (How smart IS it to steal items off a holy altar to the Creator of the World, anyway?!)
* The Delving contains a bookshelf with a variety of documents to read.
* The chalice in the Temple casts [[cure light wounds]] when you drink from it. This is a fast way to regain health while experiencing in this zone.

== Zone Map ==
[[File:Delving.jpeg]]

== Directions to Zone ==

<pre>

MG East Gate --------------
|_
|
|
|
| Hovelton
| |
--+-- | |
| | +- | |
Lizard Swamps <-- + | |--------+ |
+--
|
|
|---> Ghost Town / Wintermeet
---
|
Delving <----Thalos Pass----> Living Lands
|
V
Great Eastern Desert
</pre>

== Zone Backstory ==

'''Birthrights: A Delving Tale''' 
''Copyright 2002, All Rights Reserved.'' 

Mira bent over and gently blew upon the dusty cover of the leather-bound book, its silver hinges and clasp blackish gray with deep layers of tarnish. Velvety cloth fibers, their color faded to a dull brown, veiled the tome like the dusty cobwebs found shrouding the corners of the abandoned sections of the mines she had played in as a child. She wondered how the volume could have come to be hidden here under the lectern of the amphitheater. Sitting back on her booted heels, she gently lifted it out of the shattered remains of the ironwood box that once stored it, feeling the weight of this long lost thing. Her hands tingled, as if touching magic or history itself, and with a grin she chided herself for such flights of fanciful thought. Father would certainly not have approved of bringing magic into the house, but then, it was her home now, and her find, and enjoy it she would. 

Glancing over at where Berengor was overseeing the renovations, she pondered her course of action. Her impulse was to rush home and examine the book that very moment, but the master craftsman wasn't known for his patience with anything that might cause a delay in the flow of work, and the Council was putting a lot of pressure on him and the work crews to complete the repairs to Kharad-Delving's Gathering Chambers. Slipping the small book under her cloak and securely between her broad leather belt and the small of her back, she reluctantly returned to removing the broken stones and bits of wood with hands that shook with excitement. 

The hours remaining on her shift passed like decades as Mira impatiently awaited the end of her workday. Finally the bell rang, and she leapt up as speedy as a bolt from a readied crossbow and hurried home, up the twisting passageways of the Delving to a small croft carved out of the stone in the eastern section of the caves. 

Discarding Granner's well-patched, brown woolen cloak over the back of one of the wooden chairs by the worn but scrupulously clean table, she carefully withdrew the ancient book and laid it down. Tucking one thick black braid back behind her ear, she examined the artifact carefully. It was not large; perhaps the span of her fingers when extended widely, and only a small amount taller than the length of her rough, callused hand. Though father had always teased her for her mannish limbs, ill sized compared to her mother's delicacy, her hands were strong and capable. It had been an easy choice to pick a work team with Berengor's building crew, rather than labor in the mushroom caves or sew with the chatty wives of the miners. Besides, women weren't allowed to work in the mines; else she might have swung a pick right beside her father. 

Scurrying to the iron bound chest in which she stored her few treasures, she grabbed and deftly lit one of the two expensive tallow candles she had kept for a certain special occasion. She deliberately paid no attention to the neatly folded linens and gown that waited there for the day she would be betrothed, hand made by her beloved mother before her death. The items had waited for years and likely would wait much longer. Shaking her head to rid herself of such thoughts, she brought the candle to the table, setting it in a slender candlestick of brass her father had given her as a birthday gift. It was a beautiful representation of the great dragon of the Eastern Desert, and the bright mirror shine of the curving wings reflected the light directly on whatever was placed before it. The flame's pure, radiant glow provided much clearer illumination than the smoky tin lanterns filled with fish oil sold within the Delving. Any import from the elven cities was expensive; each moment of light was a day's pay. 

Mira sat down and carefully, cautiously, lifted the ornate latch that held the book closed. It was tight and rigid with age, but with a whispered prayer, she pried it open without causing any damage. The workmanship of the latch was beautiful, even to her jaded dwarven eyes. Hints of tiny traceries and patterns in the metal could be seen here and there as well as small protrusions that appeared to be gems crusted over with soil. Her heart warmed as she thought of bringing the book back to its original beauty. Unable to resist, she poked at the grime covering one jewel on the clasp. To her delight, the oily dirt peeled away to reveal a tourmaline the same multi-hued shade as her own eyes. With no small amount of self-restraint, she mentally set aside the task of restoration until she had explored the book itself a bit more. 

Opening the cover, she noted the weight of its construction. A light tap upon its surface revealed the presence of wood beneath the leather cover. The hide itself was still quite fine, even as ancient as it was, and a deep pattern within the leather was still clear. She traced its surface with one cautious fingertip. The texture was not one she was familiar with. It seemed almost serpentine, but was far larger in scale than any snake she'd ever seen. Papered in dark vellum, the title page bore a strange, slanting script, penned in a almost glowing green ink. 

'''''"Memories of the Crossing and Beyond."''''' 

Mira's heart leapt in her chest and with trembling hands and held breath, she turned the page and began to read. 

''"I watched as the prince lifted agonized eyes to meet the gaze of his Liege. Mutely, he shook his head in disbelieving, unconscious refusal.'' 

''King Mourngrum's voice was as cold as the stones of the royal chamber. "For your crime of betrayal, I can no longer permit you the graces of this Hall. But for your royal blood, brother, I would have your head roll upon these marbled floors. Instead, I deny you all aspects of the life our home has given you. On the morrow, you and yours will depart Dwarvenhold, never to return."'' 

''There were only stifled sobs from Princess Wynna, her face blotched and red from weeping. A handkerchief died a wracking death, torn to shreds in her nervous fingers. Her dark hair formed a cloud around her head, like the mists that shrouded the mountaintop at night.'' 

''Poor Thurnhelm tried to meet her eyes, as if a single glimpse would suffice to balm his soul until they might meet again in Tynian's hallowed halls in the afterlife. But she would not grant him that mercy; forbidden it by her father.'' 

''He shuffled forward a half step, but was halted by the instant bristling of the royal guards and the weapons they leveled to block his progress. I reached out to him, as he pled, trying to stay any further conversation that would simply anger the king, but Thurnhelm would not be silenced.'' 

''"Brother... I beg you....." His voice was like that of a lost, shattered soul, not the battle hardened warrior I knew him to be.'' 

''The king's face was like the stones of the mountain itself. "Speak not. I will hear no more words from your lips. This family has no son named Thurnhelm. Get ye gone."'' 

Mira blinked, astounded. This was nothing like the history books told! She had always been taught that the great migration was based solely on trade matters and growth of Dwarvenhold, not the casting out of a brother for the forbidden love he held for a niece! 

Like most Delving girls, she had day dreamed of the perfect sweetheart who would one day sweep her off her feet. As the years had passed and her friends married off one by one, she'd come to realize that romance and mystery and passion were not likely to be in her destiny. Even reading of it, though, swept her up into its tumultuous grasp, and she could almost imagine herself as the heartbroken heroine, unlike the mask of reasonable, soft-spoken, hardworking citizen she had to wear to keep food on the table and stone overhead. 

She scanned the next several pages quickly, skipping over the less interesting details of bandit attacks and the unfriendly humans of Ofcol, the tales unpleasantly close to those she had heard one of the guardsman's wives whisper as the terrified little thing tried to hide yet another a black eye. Mira snorted as she enjoyed a moment of pity for any man who tried such tricks with her. Though such things were forbidden by tradition, she wished she could be more like the silent and deadly Sinome, Queen Berethil's personal bodyguard, and train with sword and knife. Somehow, a pick and trowel just didn't hold the same degree of excitement. 

''"A ragged cry rose up from the head of the pack train. As one, we lifted our heads wearily to search out the messenger. There. The youngster trotted up, breathless. "Milord.... j' 'head...few ... miles...."'' 

''Thurnhelm was impatient. "Catch your breath. I can't understand a word you say."'' 

''The lad gulped down a few breaths, calming his voice. "Milord... we have breached the forest - the plains lie beyond just as we were told... we found traces of halfling folk on the far east edge of the wood, as well, sir. And sir.... Mountains! We could just see them at the edge of the plains!"'' 

''The prince nodded, accepting this news quietly. I could not keep silent, and, like many of the others, cast my helm into the sky with a great cry of rejoicing.'' 

''We were almost home..."'' 

Mira smiled as she imagined the joy the first sight of the beauty of the mountain must have brought. As one of the few Delvers who had traveled back to Dwarvenhold on a recent Crafthall trading caravan, she personally felt that Kharad-Delving was the more beautiful of the two. Eager for more excitement, she flipped forward a few more pages… 

''"It was near midnight when the knock came. Standing guard inside his door, I peered through the barred window. Wynna's huge blue-green eyes stared back at me, shrouded slightly by the cowl of her cloak. I will admit I was dumbfounded to see her there. What risks she must have faced, not to mention the wrath of her father, to come all this way! And what might have happened to her in the intervening span of years?'' 

''Hurriedly, I opened the portal and ushered the princess inside. The poor thing trembled, whether from fear, weariness, or nervousness, I could not tell. The richly embroidered gowns I had seen her wearing last had been exchanged for plain and sturdy brown wool, heavily stained and torn around the hems. It appeared her journey had been nearly as eventful as our own that decade ago.'' 

''"Thurnhelm…" His name escaped her lips in a tone that was half prayer, half plea. The expression on my face silenced anything further she might have said. It had been years since Thurnhelm had finally succumbed to the pressure of his ministers and taken a wife. Though it was not a love match, an heir had been secured.'' 

''I directed Wynna towards the king's study, glancing nervously over one shoulder at the royal bedchamber where the Lady Hlafa lay sleepless, likely staring up at the gilt painted ceiling. Thurnhelm was deeply engrossed in the latest dispatches, and did not look up as we entered. Yet, he must have sensed something, for he suddenly took in a sharp breath, his eyes closing, his head tilting back to more fully experience the perfume he had detected.'' 

''"Wyn…." He closed his eyes, wrapped in grief, thinking the scent simply a trick of memory.'' 

''"My Lord…" I cleared my throat slightly.''

''His eyes opened with a near-audible snap and his face… I cannot describe it. It came aglow, like the emergence of molten gold from within a forge. He leapt from his chair, crossing the study in two strides, and caught her up. They were weeping, shaking, trembling, and covering one another with kisses. I examined the bookshelves to give them some slight sense of privacy for such a moment."'' 

Sighing happily, Mira dabbed away a tear that threatened to spill out and onto the ancient vellum. It was beautiful to read of such a romantic love. It was like something out of a fae tale. Eagerly, she turned the next gilt-edged page with a near reverence. 

''"A lump the size of the sapphire in Thurnhelm's royal signet stuck in my throat as I watched them reunite. It was a joyful yet terrible moment; there were undeniable matters of state to be considered. Hlafa could not be set aside; she had supported her loveless husband and done all the duties that could be asked of a wife or Queen, and done them to the best of her simple heart.'' 

''As if my thoughts had summoned her, I watched in horror as she emerged from the royal bedchamber, a shawl wrapped around her slumped shoulders, her feet bare upon the flagstones. Her mouth formed a perfect O of shock, and her eyes trembled with tears as bright as diamonds. Yet she was a Queen even in this moment. By the time she crossed the corridor, she had straightened, dashed the tears from her eyes, and gathered her dignity and courage.'' 

''"You would be Wynna, then?" It was more statement than question.'' 

''The two lovers nodded as one, as if conjoined. Hlafa's eyes closed in a slow blink, and I could almost see the wheels of her mind turning. When they opened, there was no trace of moisture. Dropping into a low, deep curtsey, she spoke once more in a voice of icy calm.'' 

''"My Lord. I am your queen. I am your wife. The mother of your Heir. But I am not, nor have I ever been, your love. Find what joy you can, and grant me the mercy of the same. All I ask is discretion."'' 

''Thurnhelm looked like a minotaur struck between the horns, poleaxed, stunned. "Hlafa…"'' 

''She curtseyed again, and exited the study, her back ramrod straight. The doors of the bedchamber closed softly, and I think only my ears caught the soft sob from behind their thickness."'' 

Mira flipped forward a few pages, anxious to learn of the resolution to this situation, remembering something terrible from her school lessons… She worried at her lower lip like a cave-rat absentmindedly gnaws a bone as she read on. 

''"The babe was healthy and beautiful, and Wynna was as radiant a mother as can be imagined. I knelt beside her, and taking her sweat-dampened hand in my own, swore my oath to her. In Thurnhelm's absence, I would ward and guard the mother and child as I had warded and guarded the King. His death only a week before during a cave-in while inspecting the mines had nearly broken three hearts: Wynna's, Hlafa's, and my own. I had served him for nearly all his life, and held the protection of his family as my own last sacred duty. I had failed Thurnhelm, but would not fail his daughter.'' 

''I froze as one flailing wee little hand came in contact with my own where it clasped Wynna's. The tiny fingers curled around mine with surprising strength. She had her father's broad hands, the hands of a warrior or a smith. '' 

''Wynna glanced over at me where I sat imprisoned by the babe's grasp. Her smile was both wonderful and terrible, touched with joy and deep sorrow. The babe was all she could ever have of him. They had enjoyed but a year of reunion before his death; their tomorrows together would never come, and the love they had shared would have to last a lifetime for her and the child."'' 

Something caught in Mira's throat at these simple words of loyalty. She ached, as if her body was wracked in a fever, for that sense of place and belonging and responsibility. With a bitter sigh, she continued reading. The next page was blank, but the one that followed after continued the tale in someone else's unsteady, unskilled handwriting. 

''"The fallen King's Shadow, Gilad, and the Lady Wynna, were found dead in her home, victims of the fever that has decimated the Delving this winter. The child was not expected to survive, but has clung to life for the last tenday. Queen Hlafa has ordered the girl placed in fosterage among the miners, suspecting but having no proof of its true parentage. I cannot destroy this book as I have been bid, but instead, will conceal it for future generations to know the truth. With the King's firstborn taken by the fever, this child, and not Hlafa, is the true heir. May Tynian forgive me, that I did not try and take the throne and hold it for her."'' 

Mira sat blinking, stunned. A princess raised among the miners! Who could have imagined such a thing? Such things were far beyond her station, but even the slight brush of such greatness was almost dizzying. She gently caressed the vellum page, overwhelmed to have shared such events, even through just the reading of them. Wistfully, she closed the book, stroking it lightly, unconsciously mimicking the way her mother had stroked her hair in times of trouble, in an attempt to soothe her fiery daughter. 

Resolving to give the book into the priest's hands the next day, she wrapped it up in one of her few extra shirts, and sought her troubled rest, filled with dreams of lost princesses, birthrights gone astray, and the tragic love of kings. 

== Trivia ==
* In its initial drafts, Kharad Delving had unique names for each and every mob. However, it was suggested by the Area Coordinator at the time that this might not be a good use of resources and might take up cool sounding dwarvish names that players might want to use in the future. As a result, ''with the permission of the Implementor Staff and the Area Coordinator'', the original draft (with unique mob names) was installed briefly on another MUD, and the version implemented on TFC contained more generic names.
* Some of the feedback provided on the initial draft:
** Take Jerald out. Areas are backdrop, not player-related. 
** Take Rhina out. Areas are backdrop, not player-related. 
** Take Wyld out. Areas are backdrop, not player-related. (Wyld is in the same status Nash is, which is to say, it's not canon, just following-created backdrop). 
** No "(Magical)" tags on room titles. 
** No mysterious massive underground rooms that you can't see the far side of. Also no trees or other surface plants. 
** Remove weasel book. 
** No _underscore emphasis_. Proper english rules. 
** Lose "shoppe". Ugh. Also Oddes and Endes. They're dwarves, not Shakespearean midgets. 
** Drop modern words like "businessmen". 
** In the history descrips... no treason or betrayal. It was a peacable colonization effort. The Light-Wood is lined by mountains on both south and north edges, and they are close enough to be visible to each other. Kharad-Delving is at the center of the southern edge of the Light-Wood, where the river cuts through the Southern Mountains. The Eastern Plains are a good ways east. 
** No Moroccan clothing... make the djellaba a robe. 
** No petticoats or dresses. These are dwarves. 
** No codpieces. This is TFC. 
** No slave girls. Dwarves again. 
** No "absolutely nothing..." items.

Kharad-Delving

2011-03-09T02:38:19Z

Solaron: /* General Information */

{{Info area
|name = Kharad Delving
|type = EXP Zone
|for_race =
|author = [[Tokugawa]] [[Cordir]]
|install_date = Prior to 1999.
|location = Northern Continent
}}

== General Information ==

* Kharad Delving is found to the east and south of Midgaard.
* The concept of the zone is a small Dwarven settlement, with multiple "floors" including mines, craft halls, residential sections, and royalty/government areas.
* The Delving contains a Temple to [[Tynian]] (marked as Delving Chapel on the map).
** The altar can be opened and contains two non-drop items. Best to leave them be. (How smart IS it to steal items off a holy altar to the Creator of the World, anyway?!)
* The Delving contains a bookshelf with a variety of documents to read.
* The chalice in the Temple casts [cure light wounds] when you drink from it. This is a fast way to regain health while experiencing in this zone.

== Zone Map ==
[[File:Delving.jpeg]]

== Directions to Zone ==

<pre>

MG East Gate --------------
|_
|
|
|
| Hovelton
| |
--+-- | |
| | +- | |
Lizard Swamps <-- + | |--------+ |
+--
|
|
|---> Ghost Town / Wintermeet
---
|
Delving <----Thalos Pass----> Living Lands
|
V
Great Eastern Desert
</pre>

== Zone Backstory ==

'''Birthrights: A Delving Tale''' 
''Copyright 2002, All Rights Reserved.'' 

Mira bent over and gently blew upon the dusty cover of the leather-bound book, its silver hinges and clasp blackish gray with deep layers of tarnish. Velvety cloth fibers, their color faded to a dull brown, veiled the tome like the dusty cobwebs found shrouding the corners of the abandoned sections of the mines she had played in as a child. She wondered how the volume could have come to be hidden here under the lectern of the amphitheater. Sitting back on her booted heels, she gently lifted it out of the shattered remains of the ironwood box that once stored it, feeling the weight of this long lost thing. Her hands tingled, as if touching magic or history itself, and with a grin she chided herself for such flights of fanciful thought. Father would certainly not have approved of bringing magic into the house, but then, it was her home now, and her find, and enjoy it she would. 

Glancing over at where Berengor was overseeing the renovations, she pondered her course of action. Her impulse was to rush home and examine the book that very moment, but the master craftsman wasn't known for his patience with anything that might cause a delay in the flow of work, and the Council was putting a lot of pressure on him and the work crews to complete the repairs to Kharad-Delving's Gathering Chambers. Slipping the small book under her cloak and securely between her broad leather belt and the small of her back, she reluctantly returned to removing the broken stones and bits of wood with hands that shook with excitement. 

The hours remaining on her shift passed like decades as Mira impatiently awaited the end of her workday. Finally the bell rang, and she leapt up as speedy as a bolt from a readied crossbow and hurried home, up the twisting passageways of the Delving to a small croft carved out of the stone in the eastern section of the caves. 

Discarding Granner's well-patched, brown woolen cloak over the back of one of the wooden chairs by the worn but scrupulously clean table, she carefully withdrew the ancient book and laid it down. Tucking one thick black braid back behind her ear, she examined the artifact carefully. It was not large; perhaps the span of her fingers when extended widely, and only a small amount taller than the length of her rough, callused hand. Though father had always teased her for her mannish limbs, ill sized compared to her mother's delicacy, her hands were strong and capable. It had been an easy choice to pick a work team with Berengor's building crew, rather than labor in the mushroom caves or sew with the chatty wives of the miners. Besides, women weren't allowed to work in the mines; else she might have swung a pick right beside her father. 

Scurrying to the iron bound chest in which she stored her few treasures, she grabbed and deftly lit one of the two expensive tallow candles she had kept for a certain special occasion. She deliberately paid no attention to the neatly folded linens and gown that waited there for the day she would be betrothed, hand made by her beloved mother before her death. The items had waited for years and likely would wait much longer. Shaking her head to rid herself of such thoughts, she brought the candle to the table, setting it in a slender candlestick of brass her father had given her as a birthday gift. It was a beautiful representation of the great dragon of the Eastern Desert, and the bright mirror shine of the curving wings reflected the light directly on whatever was placed before it. The flame's pure, radiant glow provided much clearer illumination than the smoky tin lanterns filled with fish oil sold within the Delving. Any import from the elven cities was expensive; each moment of light was a day's pay. 

Mira sat down and carefully, cautiously, lifted the ornate latch that held the book closed. It was tight and rigid with age, but with a whispered prayer, she pried it open without causing any damage. The workmanship of the latch was beautiful, even to her jaded dwarven eyes. Hints of tiny traceries and patterns in the metal could be seen here and there as well as small protrusions that appeared to be gems crusted over with soil. Her heart warmed as she thought of bringing the book back to its original beauty. Unable to resist, she poked at the grime covering one jewel on the clasp. To her delight, the oily dirt peeled away to reveal a tourmaline the same multi-hued shade as her own eyes. With no small amount of self-restraint, she mentally set aside the task of restoration until she had explored the book itself a bit more. 

Opening the cover, she noted the weight of its construction. A light tap upon its surface revealed the presence of wood beneath the leather cover. The hide itself was still quite fine, even as ancient as it was, and a deep pattern within the leather was still clear. She traced its surface with one cautious fingertip. The texture was not one she was familiar with. It seemed almost serpentine, but was far larger in scale than any snake she'd ever seen. Papered in dark vellum, the title page bore a strange, slanting script, penned in a almost glowing green ink. 

'''''"Memories of the Crossing and Beyond."''''' 

Mira's heart leapt in her chest and with trembling hands and held breath, she turned the page and began to read. 

''"I watched as the prince lifted agonized eyes to meet the gaze of his Liege. Mutely, he shook his head in disbelieving, unconscious refusal.'' 

''King Mourngrum's voice was as cold as the stones of the royal chamber. "For your crime of betrayal, I can no longer permit you the graces of this Hall. But for your royal blood, brother, I would have your head roll upon these marbled floors. Instead, I deny you all aspects of the life our home has given you. On the morrow, you and yours will depart Dwarvenhold, never to return."'' 

''There were only stifled sobs from Princess Wynna, her face blotched and red from weeping. A handkerchief died a wracking death, torn to shreds in her nervous fingers. Her dark hair formed a cloud around her head, like the mists that shrouded the mountaintop at night.'' 

''Poor Thurnhelm tried to meet her eyes, as if a single glimpse would suffice to balm his soul until they might meet again in Tynian's hallowed halls in the afterlife. But she would not grant him that mercy; forbidden it by her father.'' 

''He shuffled forward a half step, but was halted by the instant bristling of the royal guards and the weapons they leveled to block his progress. I reached out to him, as he pled, trying to stay any further conversation that would simply anger the king, but Thurnhelm would not be silenced.'' 

''"Brother... I beg you....." His voice was like that of a lost, shattered soul, not the battle hardened warrior I knew him to be.'' 

''The king's face was like the stones of the mountain itself. "Speak not. I will hear no more words from your lips. This family has no son named Thurnhelm. Get ye gone."'' 

Mira blinked, astounded. This was nothing like the history books told! She had always been taught that the great migration was based solely on trade matters and growth of Dwarvenhold, not the casting out of a brother for the forbidden love he held for a niece! 

Like most Delving girls, she had day dreamed of the perfect sweetheart who would one day sweep her off her feet. As the years had passed and her friends married off one by one, she'd come to realize that romance and mystery and passion were not likely to be in her destiny. Even reading of it, though, swept her up into its tumultuous grasp, and she could almost imagine herself as the heartbroken heroine, unlike the mask of reasonable, soft-spoken, hardworking citizen she had to wear to keep food on the table and stone overhead. 

She scanned the next several pages quickly, skipping over the less interesting details of bandit attacks and the unfriendly humans of Ofcol, the tales unpleasantly close to those she had heard one of the guardsman's wives whisper as the terrified little thing tried to hide yet another a black eye. Mira snorted as she enjoyed a moment of pity for any man who tried such tricks with her. Though such things were forbidden by tradition, she wished she could be more like the silent and deadly Sinome, Queen Berethil's personal bodyguard, and train with sword and knife. Somehow, a pick and trowel just didn't hold the same degree of excitement. 

''"A ragged cry rose up from the head of the pack train. As one, we lifted our heads wearily to search out the messenger. There. The youngster trotted up, breathless. "Milord.... j' 'head...few ... miles...."'' 

''Thurnhelm was impatient. "Catch your breath. I can't understand a word you say."'' 

''The lad gulped down a few breaths, calming his voice. "Milord... we have breached the forest - the plains lie beyond just as we were told... we found traces of halfling folk on the far east edge of the wood, as well, sir. And sir.... Mountains! We could just see them at the edge of the plains!"'' 

''The prince nodded, accepting this news quietly. I could not keep silent, and, like many of the others, cast my helm into the sky with a great cry of rejoicing.'' 

''We were almost home..."'' 

Mira smiled as she imagined the joy the first sight of the beauty of the mountain must have brought. As one of the few Delvers who had traveled back to Dwarvenhold on a recent Crafthall trading caravan, she personally felt that Kharad-Delving was the more beautiful of the two. Eager for more excitement, she flipped forward a few more pages… 

''"It was near midnight when the knock came. Standing guard inside his door, I peered through the barred window. Wynna's huge blue-green eyes stared back at me, shrouded slightly by the cowl of her cloak. I will admit I was dumbfounded to see her there. What risks she must have faced, not to mention the wrath of her father, to come all this way! And what might have happened to her in the intervening span of years?'' 

''Hurriedly, I opened the portal and ushered the princess inside. The poor thing trembled, whether from fear, weariness, or nervousness, I could not tell. The richly embroidered gowns I had seen her wearing last had been exchanged for plain and sturdy brown wool, heavily stained and torn around the hems. It appeared her journey had been nearly as eventful as our own that decade ago.'' 

''"Thurnhelm…" His name escaped her lips in a tone that was half prayer, half plea. The expression on my face silenced anything further she might have said. It had been years since Thurnhelm had finally succumbed to the pressure of his ministers and taken a wife. Though it was not a love match, an heir had been secured.'' 

''I directed Wynna towards the king's study, glancing nervously over one shoulder at the royal bedchamber where the Lady Hlafa lay sleepless, likely staring up at the gilt painted ceiling. Thurnhelm was deeply engrossed in the latest dispatches, and did not look up as we entered. Yet, he must have sensed something, for he suddenly took in a sharp breath, his eyes closing, his head tilting back to more fully experience the perfume he had detected.'' 

''"Wyn…." He closed his eyes, wrapped in grief, thinking the scent simply a trick of memory.'' 

''"My Lord…" I cleared my throat slightly.''

''His eyes opened with a near-audible snap and his face… I cannot describe it. It came aglow, like the emergence of molten gold from within a forge. He leapt from his chair, crossing the study in two strides, and caught her up. They were weeping, shaking, trembling, and covering one another with kisses. I examined the bookshelves to give them some slight sense of privacy for such a moment."'' 

Sighing happily, Mira dabbed away a tear that threatened to spill out and onto the ancient vellum. It was beautiful to read of such a romantic love. It was like something out of a fae tale. Eagerly, she turned the next gilt-edged page with a near reverence. 

''"A lump the size of the sapphire in Thurnhelm's royal signet stuck in my throat as I watched them reunite. It was a joyful yet terrible moment; there were undeniable matters of state to be considered. Hlafa could not be set aside; she had supported her loveless husband and done all the duties that could be asked of a wife or Queen, and done them to the best of her simple heart.'' 

''As if my thoughts had summoned her, I watched in horror as she emerged from the royal bedchamber, a shawl wrapped around her slumped shoulders, her feet bare upon the flagstones. Her mouth formed a perfect O of shock, and her eyes trembled with tears as bright as diamonds. Yet she was a Queen even in this moment. By the time she crossed the corridor, she had straightened, dashed the tears from her eyes, and gathered her dignity and courage.'' 

''"You would be Wynna, then?" It was more statement than question.'' 

''The two lovers nodded as one, as if conjoined. Hlafa's eyes closed in a slow blink, and I could almost see the wheels of her mind turning. When they opened, there was no trace of moisture. Dropping into a low, deep curtsey, she spoke once more in a voice of icy calm.'' 

''"My Lord. I am your queen. I am your wife. The mother of your Heir. But I am not, nor have I ever been, your love. Find what joy you can, and grant me the mercy of the same. All I ask is discretion."'' 

''Thurnhelm looked like a minotaur struck between the horns, poleaxed, stunned. "Hlafa…"'' 

''She curtseyed again, and exited the study, her back ramrod straight. The doors of the bedchamber closed softly, and I think only my ears caught the soft sob from behind their thickness."'' 

Mira flipped forward a few pages, anxious to learn of the resolution to this situation, remembering something terrible from her school lessons… She worried at her lower lip like a cave-rat absentmindedly gnaws a bone as she read on. 

''"The babe was healthy and beautiful, and Wynna was as radiant a mother as can be imagined. I knelt beside her, and taking her sweat-dampened hand in my own, swore my oath to her. In Thurnhelm's absence, I would ward and guard the mother and child as I had warded and guarded the King. His death only a week before during a cave-in while inspecting the mines had nearly broken three hearts: Wynna's, Hlafa's, and my own. I had served him for nearly all his life, and held the protection of his family as my own last sacred duty. I had failed Thurnhelm, but would not fail his daughter.'' 

''I froze as one flailing wee little hand came in contact with my own where it clasped Wynna's. The tiny fingers curled around mine with surprising strength. She had her father's broad hands, the hands of a warrior or a smith. '' 

''Wynna glanced over at me where I sat imprisoned by the babe's grasp. Her smile was both wonderful and terrible, touched with joy and deep sorrow. The babe was all she could ever have of him. They had enjoyed but a year of reunion before his death; their tomorrows together would never come, and the love they had shared would have to last a lifetime for her and the child."'' 

Something caught in Mira's throat at these simple words of loyalty. She ached, as if her body was wracked in a fever, for that sense of place and belonging and responsibility. With a bitter sigh, she continued reading. The next page was blank, but the one that followed after continued the tale in someone else's unsteady, unskilled handwriting. 

''"The fallen King's Shadow, Gilad, and the Lady Wynna, were found dead in her home, victims of the fever that has decimated the Delving this winter. The child was not expected to survive, but has clung to life for the last tenday. Queen Hlafa has ordered the girl placed in fosterage among the miners, suspecting but having no proof of its true parentage. I cannot destroy this book as I have been bid, but instead, will conceal it for future generations to know the truth. With the King's firstborn taken by the fever, this child, and not Hlafa, is the true heir. May Tynian forgive me, that I did not try and take the throne and hold it for her."'' 

Mira sat blinking, stunned. A princess raised among the miners! Who could have imagined such a thing? Such things were far beyond her station, but even the slight brush of such greatness was almost dizzying. She gently caressed the vellum page, overwhelmed to have shared such events, even through just the reading of them. Wistfully, she closed the book, stroking it lightly, unconsciously mimicking the way her mother had stroked her hair in times of trouble, in an attempt to soothe her fiery daughter. 

Resolving to give the book into the priest's hands the next day, she wrapped it up in one of her few extra shirts, and sought her troubled rest, filled with dreams of lost princesses, birthrights gone astray, and the tragic love of kings. 

== Trivia ==
* In its initial drafts, Kharad Delving had unique names for each and every mob. However, it was suggested by the Area Coordinator at the time that this might not be a good use of resources and might take up cool sounding dwarvish names that players might want to use in the future. As a result, ''with the permission of the Implementor Staff and the Area Coordinator'', the original draft (with unique mob names) was installed briefly on another MUD, and the version implemented on TFC contained more generic names.
* Some of the feedback provided on the initial draft:
** Take Jerald out. Areas are backdrop, not player-related. 
** Take Rhina out. Areas are backdrop, not player-related. 
** Take Wyld out. Areas are backdrop, not player-related. (Wyld is in the same status Nash is, which is to say, it's not canon, just following-created backdrop). 
** No "(Magical)" tags on room titles. 
** No mysterious massive underground rooms that you can't see the far side of. Also no trees or other surface plants. 
** Remove weasel book. 
** No _underscore emphasis_. Proper english rules. 
** Lose "shoppe". Ugh. Also Oddes and Endes. They're dwarves, not Shakespearean midgets. 
** Drop modern words like "businessmen". 
** In the history descrips... no treason or betrayal. It was a peacable colonization effort. The Light-Wood is lined by mountains on both south and north edges, and they are close enough to be visible to each other. Kharad-Delving is at the center of the southern edge of the Light-Wood, where the river cuts through the Southern Mountains. The Eastern Plains are a good ways east. 
** No Moroccan clothing... make the djellaba a robe. 
** No petticoats or dresses. These are dwarves. 
** No codpieces. This is TFC. 
** No slave girls. Dwarves again. 
** No "absolutely nothing..." items.

Kharad-Delving

2011-03-09T02:37:56Z

Solaron:

{{Info area
|name = Kharad Delving
|type = EXP Zone
|for_race =
|author = [[Tokugawa]] [[Cordir]]
|install_date = Prior to 1999.
|location = Northern Continent
}}

== General Information ==

* Kharad Delving is found to the east and south of Midgaard.
* The concept of the zone is a small Dwarven settlement, with multiple "floors" including mines, craft halls, residential sections, and royalty/government areas.
* The Delving contains a Temple to [[Tynian]] (marked as Delving Chapel on the map).
** The altar can be opened and contains two non-drop items. Best to leave them be. (How smart IS it to steal items off a holy altar to the Creator of the World, anyway?!)
* The Delving contains a bookshelf with a variety of documents to read.
* The chalice in the Temple casts cure light when you drink from it. This is a fast way to regain health while experiencing in this zone.

== Zone Map ==
[[File:Delving.jpeg]]

== Directions to Zone ==

<pre>

MG East Gate --------------
|_
|
|
|
| Hovelton
| |
--+-- | |
| | +- | |
Lizard Swamps <-- + | |--------+ |
+--
|
|
|---> Ghost Town / Wintermeet
---
|
Delving <----Thalos Pass----> Living Lands
|
V
Great Eastern Desert
</pre>

== Zone Backstory ==

'''Birthrights: A Delving Tale''' 
''Copyright 2002, All Rights Reserved.'' 

Mira bent over and gently blew upon the dusty cover of the leather-bound book, its silver hinges and clasp blackish gray with deep layers of tarnish. Velvety cloth fibers, their color faded to a dull brown, veiled the tome like the dusty cobwebs found shrouding the corners of the abandoned sections of the mines she had played in as a child. She wondered how the volume could have come to be hidden here under the lectern of the amphitheater. Sitting back on her booted heels, she gently lifted it out of the shattered remains of the ironwood box that once stored it, feeling the weight of this long lost thing. Her hands tingled, as if touching magic or history itself, and with a grin she chided herself for such flights of fanciful thought. Father would certainly not have approved of bringing magic into the house, but then, it was her home now, and her find, and enjoy it she would. 

Glancing over at where Berengor was overseeing the renovations, she pondered her course of action. Her impulse was to rush home and examine the book that very moment, but the master craftsman wasn't known for his patience with anything that might cause a delay in the flow of work, and the Council was putting a lot of pressure on him and the work crews to complete the repairs to Kharad-Delving's Gathering Chambers. Slipping the small book under her cloak and securely between her broad leather belt and the small of her back, she reluctantly returned to removing the broken stones and bits of wood with hands that shook with excitement. 

The hours remaining on her shift passed like decades as Mira impatiently awaited the end of her workday. Finally the bell rang, and she leapt up as speedy as a bolt from a readied crossbow and hurried home, up the twisting passageways of the Delving to a small croft carved out of the stone in the eastern section of the caves. 

Discarding Granner's well-patched, brown woolen cloak over the back of one of the wooden chairs by the worn but scrupulously clean table, she carefully withdrew the ancient book and laid it down. Tucking one thick black braid back behind her ear, she examined the artifact carefully. It was not large; perhaps the span of her fingers when extended widely, and only a small amount taller than the length of her rough, callused hand. Though father had always teased her for her mannish limbs, ill sized compared to her mother's delicacy, her hands were strong and capable. It had been an easy choice to pick a work team with Berengor's building crew, rather than labor in the mushroom caves or sew with the chatty wives of the miners. Besides, women weren't allowed to work in the mines; else she might have swung a pick right beside her father. 

Scurrying to the iron bound chest in which she stored her few treasures, she grabbed and deftly lit one of the two expensive tallow candles she had kept for a certain special occasion. She deliberately paid no attention to the neatly folded linens and gown that waited there for the day she would be betrothed, hand made by her beloved mother before her death. The items had waited for years and likely would wait much longer. Shaking her head to rid herself of such thoughts, she brought the candle to the table, setting it in a slender candlestick of brass her father had given her as a birthday gift. It was a beautiful representation of the great dragon of the Eastern Desert, and the bright mirror shine of the curving wings reflected the light directly on whatever was placed before it. The flame's pure, radiant glow provided much clearer illumination than the smoky tin lanterns filled with fish oil sold within the Delving. Any import from the elven cities was expensive; each moment of light was a day's pay. 

Mira sat down and carefully, cautiously, lifted the ornate latch that held the book closed. It was tight and rigid with age, but with a whispered prayer, she pried it open without causing any damage. The workmanship of the latch was beautiful, even to her jaded dwarven eyes. Hints of tiny traceries and patterns in the metal could be seen here and there as well as small protrusions that appeared to be gems crusted over with soil. Her heart warmed as she thought of bringing the book back to its original beauty. Unable to resist, she poked at the grime covering one jewel on the clasp. To her delight, the oily dirt peeled away to reveal a tourmaline the same multi-hued shade as her own eyes. With no small amount of self-restraint, she mentally set aside the task of restoration until she had explored the book itself a bit more. 

Opening the cover, she noted the weight of its construction. A light tap upon its surface revealed the presence of wood beneath the leather cover. The hide itself was still quite fine, even as ancient as it was, and a deep pattern within the leather was still clear. She traced its surface with one cautious fingertip. The texture was not one she was familiar with. It seemed almost serpentine, but was far larger in scale than any snake she'd ever seen. Papered in dark vellum, the title page bore a strange, slanting script, penned in a almost glowing green ink. 

'''''"Memories of the Crossing and Beyond."''''' 

Mira's heart leapt in her chest and with trembling hands and held breath, she turned the page and began to read. 

''"I watched as the prince lifted agonized eyes to meet the gaze of his Liege. Mutely, he shook his head in disbelieving, unconscious refusal.'' 

''King Mourngrum's voice was as cold as the stones of the royal chamber. "For your crime of betrayal, I can no longer permit you the graces of this Hall. But for your royal blood, brother, I would have your head roll upon these marbled floors. Instead, I deny you all aspects of the life our home has given you. On the morrow, you and yours will depart Dwarvenhold, never to return."'' 

''There were only stifled sobs from Princess Wynna, her face blotched and red from weeping. A handkerchief died a wracking death, torn to shreds in her nervous fingers. Her dark hair formed a cloud around her head, like the mists that shrouded the mountaintop at night.'' 

''Poor Thurnhelm tried to meet her eyes, as if a single glimpse would suffice to balm his soul until they might meet again in Tynian's hallowed halls in the afterlife. But she would not grant him that mercy; forbidden it by her father.'' 

''He shuffled forward a half step, but was halted by the instant bristling of the royal guards and the weapons they leveled to block his progress. I reached out to him, as he pled, trying to stay any further conversation that would simply anger the king, but Thurnhelm would not be silenced.'' 

''"Brother... I beg you....." His voice was like that of a lost, shattered soul, not the battle hardened warrior I knew him to be.'' 

''The king's face was like the stones of the mountain itself. "Speak not. I will hear no more words from your lips. This family has no son named Thurnhelm. Get ye gone."'' 

Mira blinked, astounded. This was nothing like the history books told! She had always been taught that the great migration was based solely on trade matters and growth of Dwarvenhold, not the casting out of a brother for the forbidden love he held for a niece! 

Like most Delving girls, she had day dreamed of the perfect sweetheart who would one day sweep her off her feet. As the years had passed and her friends married off one by one, she'd come to realize that romance and mystery and passion were not likely to be in her destiny. Even reading of it, though, swept her up into its tumultuous grasp, and she could almost imagine herself as the heartbroken heroine, unlike the mask of reasonable, soft-spoken, hardworking citizen she had to wear to keep food on the table and stone overhead. 

She scanned the next several pages quickly, skipping over the less interesting details of bandit attacks and the unfriendly humans of Ofcol, the tales unpleasantly close to those she had heard one of the guardsman's wives whisper as the terrified little thing tried to hide yet another a black eye. Mira snorted as she enjoyed a moment of pity for any man who tried such tricks with her. Though such things were forbidden by tradition, she wished she could be more like the silent and deadly Sinome, Queen Berethil's personal bodyguard, and train with sword and knife. Somehow, a pick and trowel just didn't hold the same degree of excitement. 

''"A ragged cry rose up from the head of the pack train. As one, we lifted our heads wearily to search out the messenger. There. The youngster trotted up, breathless. "Milord.... j' 'head...few ... miles...."'' 

''Thurnhelm was impatient. "Catch your breath. I can't understand a word you say."'' 

''The lad gulped down a few breaths, calming his voice. "Milord... we have breached the forest - the plains lie beyond just as we were told... we found traces of halfling folk on the far east edge of the wood, as well, sir. And sir.... Mountains! We could just see them at the edge of the plains!"'' 

''The prince nodded, accepting this news quietly. I could not keep silent, and, like many of the others, cast my helm into the sky with a great cry of rejoicing.'' 

''We were almost home..."'' 

Mira smiled as she imagined the joy the first sight of the beauty of the mountain must have brought. As one of the few Delvers who had traveled back to Dwarvenhold on a recent Crafthall trading caravan, she personally felt that Kharad-Delving was the more beautiful of the two. Eager for more excitement, she flipped forward a few more pages… 

''"It was near midnight when the knock came. Standing guard inside his door, I peered through the barred window. Wynna's huge blue-green eyes stared back at me, shrouded slightly by the cowl of her cloak. I will admit I was dumbfounded to see her there. What risks she must have faced, not to mention the wrath of her father, to come all this way! And what might have happened to her in the intervening span of years?'' 

''Hurriedly, I opened the portal and ushered the princess inside. The poor thing trembled, whether from fear, weariness, or nervousness, I could not tell. The richly embroidered gowns I had seen her wearing last had been exchanged for plain and sturdy brown wool, heavily stained and torn around the hems. It appeared her journey had been nearly as eventful as our own that decade ago.'' 

''"Thurnhelm…" His name escaped her lips in a tone that was half prayer, half plea. The expression on my face silenced anything further she might have said. It had been years since Thurnhelm had finally succumbed to the pressure of his ministers and taken a wife. Though it was not a love match, an heir had been secured.'' 

''I directed Wynna towards the king's study, glancing nervously over one shoulder at the royal bedchamber where the Lady Hlafa lay sleepless, likely staring up at the gilt painted ceiling. Thurnhelm was deeply engrossed in the latest dispatches, and did not look up as we entered. Yet, he must have sensed something, for he suddenly took in a sharp breath, his eyes closing, his head tilting back to more fully experience the perfume he had detected.'' 

''"Wyn…." He closed his eyes, wrapped in grief, thinking the scent simply a trick of memory.'' 

''"My Lord…" I cleared my throat slightly.''

''His eyes opened with a near-audible snap and his face… I cannot describe it. It came aglow, like the emergence of molten gold from within a forge. He leapt from his chair, crossing the study in two strides, and caught her up. They were weeping, shaking, trembling, and covering one another with kisses. I examined the bookshelves to give them some slight sense of privacy for such a moment."'' 

Sighing happily, Mira dabbed away a tear that threatened to spill out and onto the ancient vellum. It was beautiful to read of such a romantic love. It was like something out of a fae tale. Eagerly, she turned the next gilt-edged page with a near reverence. 

''"A lump the size of the sapphire in Thurnhelm's royal signet stuck in my throat as I watched them reunite. It was a joyful yet terrible moment; there were undeniable matters of state to be considered. Hlafa could not be set aside; she had supported her loveless husband and done all the duties that could be asked of a wife or Queen, and done them to the best of her simple heart.'' 

''As if my thoughts had summoned her, I watched in horror as she emerged from the royal bedchamber, a shawl wrapped around her slumped shoulders, her feet bare upon the flagstones. Her mouth formed a perfect O of shock, and her eyes trembled with tears as bright as diamonds. Yet she was a Queen even in this moment. By the time she crossed the corridor, she had straightened, dashed the tears from her eyes, and gathered her dignity and courage.'' 

''"You would be Wynna, then?" It was more statement than question.'' 

''The two lovers nodded as one, as if conjoined. Hlafa's eyes closed in a slow blink, and I could almost see the wheels of her mind turning. When they opened, there was no trace of moisture. Dropping into a low, deep curtsey, she spoke once more in a voice of icy calm.'' 

''"My Lord. I am your queen. I am your wife. The mother of your Heir. But I am not, nor have I ever been, your love. Find what joy you can, and grant me the mercy of the same. All I ask is discretion."'' 

''Thurnhelm looked like a minotaur struck between the horns, poleaxed, stunned. "Hlafa…"'' 

''She curtseyed again, and exited the study, her back ramrod straight. The doors of the bedchamber closed softly, and I think only my ears caught the soft sob from behind their thickness."'' 

Mira flipped forward a few pages, anxious to learn of the resolution to this situation, remembering something terrible from her school lessons… She worried at her lower lip like a cave-rat absentmindedly gnaws a bone as she read on. 

''"The babe was healthy and beautiful, and Wynna was as radiant a mother as can be imagined. I knelt beside her, and taking her sweat-dampened hand in my own, swore my oath to her. In Thurnhelm's absence, I would ward and guard the mother and child as I had warded and guarded the King. His death only a week before during a cave-in while inspecting the mines had nearly broken three hearts: Wynna's, Hlafa's, and my own. I had served him for nearly all his life, and held the protection of his family as my own last sacred duty. I had failed Thurnhelm, but would not fail his daughter.'' 

''I froze as one flailing wee little hand came in contact with my own where it clasped Wynna's. The tiny fingers curled around mine with surprising strength. She had her father's broad hands, the hands of a warrior or a smith. '' 

''Wynna glanced over at me where I sat imprisoned by the babe's grasp. Her smile was both wonderful and terrible, touched with joy and deep sorrow. The babe was all she could ever have of him. They had enjoyed but a year of reunion before his death; their tomorrows together would never come, and the love they had shared would have to last a lifetime for her and the child."'' 

Something caught in Mira's throat at these simple words of loyalty. She ached, as if her body was wracked in a fever, for that sense of place and belonging and responsibility. With a bitter sigh, she continued reading. The next page was blank, but the one that followed after continued the tale in someone else's unsteady, unskilled handwriting. 

''"The fallen King's Shadow, Gilad, and the Lady Wynna, were found dead in her home, victims of the fever that has decimated the Delving this winter. The child was not expected to survive, but has clung to life for the last tenday. Queen Hlafa has ordered the girl placed in fosterage among the miners, suspecting but having no proof of its true parentage. I cannot destroy this book as I have been bid, but instead, will conceal it for future generations to know the truth. With the King's firstborn taken by the fever, this child, and not Hlafa, is the true heir. May Tynian forgive me, that I did not try and take the throne and hold it for her."'' 

Mira sat blinking, stunned. A princess raised among the miners! Who could have imagined such a thing? Such things were far beyond her station, but even the slight brush of such greatness was almost dizzying. She gently caressed the vellum page, overwhelmed to have shared such events, even through just the reading of them. Wistfully, she closed the book, stroking it lightly, unconsciously mimicking the way her mother had stroked her hair in times of trouble, in an attempt to soothe her fiery daughter. 

Resolving to give the book into the priest's hands the next day, she wrapped it up in one of her few extra shirts, and sought her troubled rest, filled with dreams of lost princesses, birthrights gone astray, and the tragic love of kings. 

== Trivia ==
* In its initial drafts, Kharad Delving had unique names for each and every mob. However, it was suggested by the Area Coordinator at the time that this might not be a good use of resources and might take up cool sounding dwarvish names that players might want to use in the future. As a result, ''with the permission of the Implementor Staff and the Area Coordinator'', the original draft (with unique mob names) was installed briefly on another MUD, and the version implemented on TFC contained more generic names.
* Some of the feedback provided on the initial draft:
** Take Jerald out. Areas are backdrop, not player-related. 
** Take Rhina out. Areas are backdrop, not player-related. 
** Take Wyld out. Areas are backdrop, not player-related. (Wyld is in the same status Nash is, which is to say, it's not canon, just following-created backdrop). 
** No "(Magical)" tags on room titles. 
** No mysterious massive underground rooms that you can't see the far side of. Also no trees or other surface plants. 
** Remove weasel book. 
** No _underscore emphasis_. Proper english rules. 
** Lose "shoppe". Ugh. Also Oddes and Endes. They're dwarves, not Shakespearean midgets. 
** Drop modern words like "businessmen". 
** In the history descrips... no treason or betrayal. It was a peacable colonization effort. The Light-Wood is lined by mountains on both south and north edges, and they are close enough to be visible to each other. Kharad-Delving is at the center of the southern edge of the Light-Wood, where the river cuts through the Southern Mountains. The Eastern Plains are a good ways east. 
** No Moroccan clothing... make the djellaba a robe. 
** No petticoats or dresses. These are dwarves. 
** No codpieces. This is TFC. 
** No slave girls. Dwarves again. 
** No "absolutely nothing..." items.

Stats

2011-03-09T02:23:32Z

Solaron:

<nowiki>Insert non-formatted text here</nowiki>STR = [[Strength]] - A rating of how strong you are. 
INT = [[Intelligence]] - A rating of your learning capacity. 
WIS = [[Wisdom]] - A rating of your judgment. 
DEX = [[Dexterity]] - A rating of your agility. 
CON = [[Constitution]] - A rating of your health. 
CHR = [[Charisma]] - A rating of your influence. 
LUC = [[Luck]] - A rating of how random events affect you (for and against). 
 
Just because your stats are at MAX, does not mean you don't need to wear any of the stat. Racial maximums for each stat vary from race to race (see help race<attribute> for racial comparisons) so depending on your stat rating (LOW, BAVG, AVG, AAVG, HIGH or MAX) you will need to adjust the amount of a given stat you wear. As an easy point of reference, all humans at MAX in any stat require 7 for "perfect" (the maximum amount of that stat your character can wear while still gaining bonuses from that stat). 

When looking at the help race<attribute> charts, an easy way to figure out how much YOU need to wear is by comparing with humans. Each spot lower than humans will require one more of the stat at MAX, and the inverse for races higher on the chart. Finally, once you've determined how much you would need to wear at MAX, you can work backwards adding on stat points required for each level below MAX you are. 
== Racial Max Stats ==
''(From Corri's TFC Wiki)'' 

Summary Charts – Racial MAXimums

This chart provides a summary of the Racial MAX
of each stat(without equipment).

Race STR INT DEX CON LUC WIS CHA Special 
Aar 16 19 20 17 18 18 18 Can fly 
Dwa 19 18 16 20 17 20 17 Rumored +da 
Elf 17 20 20 16 18 17 20 Faster mana recovery 
Gia 21 17 16 19 19 18 17 Rumored +mr 

Race STR INT DEX CON LUC WIS CHA 
Gno 18 20 17 19 20 16 18 Rumored +da 
Hel 17 19 19 17 21 18 19 +1 train 
Hlf 17 17 20 17 21 19 19 Thief affinity 
Hum 18 18 18 18 18 18 18 +2 trains 

Race STR INT DEX CON LUC WIS CHA 
Min 19 19 17 20 14 15 16 Rumored trip less 
Ogr 21 16 16 22 15 15 15 Rumored +dmg (to non ogres) 
Sah 17 20 21 16 18 18 17 Can swim 

 
== Training Your Stats ==
''(From the TFC For Newbies website, by [[Nyx]])'' 
Trains are used to increase your stats. You will start with a few of them, 2 to 4 depending on your race, and with luck you will occasionally get one when you level. They are uncommon, though, so be careful not to waste them. Prior to level 12, your stats are still shifting of their own accord, so using a train merely effects the potential of that stat. Training after level 11 affects the stat itself, so most people wait until then. That way they don't end up wasting a train on a stat that was going to end up at its maximum anyway. The choice, however, is up to you. You can find out how many trains you have by checking your score and finding the line that looks like this: 
You have 2 training sessions remaining. 
To use a train you must first find a special mob that is a trainer. If you are under level 5 you can train with the individual who watches over your class’ section of Camp Tolanrael. If you are level 5 or bigger then your best bet is to find the trainer in your hometown. All hometowns have one. They are usually well-traveled and respected members of their society. You know you have found a trainer if you type TRAIN and see something like this: 
''You have 2 training sessions.'' 
''You can train: str int wis dex con chr.'' 
If you type TRAIN and are told “You can’t do that here” then you’ll need to keep looking. If you are having trouble finding the trainer in your hometown, ask for help. 
Once you have found a trainer and you are ready to train a stat, all you have to do is type TRAIN , where is the abbreviation for the stat you want to have increased. You cannot train luck or any stats that are already at their maximum.