Illarion.org

• They are not just but idols.
  The Gods cast no shadows,
  nor do they blink an eye.
  Close your own
  if you wish to see.

The cryptic message was left unsigned.

A pale, tall figure garbed in black, kisses a crow held within its gloved hands. With a sickly smile of scarred lips, the shadow casts the black bird into the air, sending it forth towards sky. Standing alone amidst the woods, the figure quietly sees the bird off. After moments that seem like etern...

You see a raven picking with its beak at a crumpled up parchment on a ruined old stone wall standing a bit off and out of town, and sensing your presence, it flaps away with shiny pitch black wings. A small rock of amber holds the paper down. The writing on the parchment reads: Edward, Why does thi...

There's no black and white, only shades of grey.

Too bad about Cyrus, I had plans for him up my sleeve...

A tattered parchment hangs outside the eastern gate.

• Attendence guaranteed.
  
  Night.

Sometimes it helps to lay low, and take somebody completely by surprise.

Hehe.

A rattish, filthy little child dressed in rags skips to the blackboards and fastens a message below the others. He walks away immediately, merrily flipping a copper coin and catching it. The message was pinned up sloppily, but the handwriting is particularly neat. It reads: You can not strike down ...

An cleanly written note was added below:

• Such fragile bonds of body.
  
  Begin.
  
  N.

A simple, cleanly written note is added seemingly when nobody had been looking.

• Lovely. Celebrate merrily, for who knows how long
  the things you eulogize shall last, or who knows
  how swift fate may falter.
  
  Night.

A letter composed of simple handwriting hangs beneath the others with a distantly familiar sign adorning it. On second glance, or visible to scribes, it is clearly written as to conceal the author's original handwriting. The top of the slip of parchment has apparently been torn off. Nothing lasts f...

GM's well should be involved in IG politics. I disagree. I'll have to say I stand behind what Grant says there. The GMs should work on helping players with their roleplay and make quests. But they should not be involved with player made governments or guilds. This as well. Well they should and shou...

Mitch, what are you talking about? I'm still treated like a newbie here*. Edit: * By some. To clarify I'm not flaming anybody, my point is that I'd like to read what was good about the role-play. I mean, it's good you have had fun and experienced good role-play. :) But I'd appreciate if you describe...

Just a second. I'm technically still playing Illarion. What exactly does that tell you? I'm not trying to drag people to UO. You know how many players here simply don't like UO? My board identity is leaving, that's all. I'm sorry, but I have trouble co-existing with people who play false games. So y...

You have nothing to apologize for. In the contrary, I have my own parts to apologize for in that concern of "double-play", but I must say my eyes are pretty open about the community now , that's all I have to my defense. Also, to my defense, all I can say is that they're a bunch of liars,...

This thread is really funny. I hate to burst anybody's bubble of joy. "Illarion loves you." So pathetic. Why is the forum filled with two million threads that are filled with flaming? I thought you people wanted new players. Anyhow, keep up the good work then, as it appears there are so ma...

*ähem*

IC und im Spiel; einverstanden.

Und OOC, ausserhalb des Spiels? Fragwürdig.

PS:
<-- PO Sian.
Will mir den Post-Count von 666 nicht ruinieren.

The creature known as 'Night' awakens from a strange reality. A reality that had persisted over the length of weeks. Memories and impressions it dubbed 'visions' all washed over it in a timespan of mere seconds, and it felt like reality itself was bending slowly around it, to adapt. Adapt from two ...

Dance with the blessings of chaos.
Until they henceforth betray us.
Head on full force, how it is just.
Let him fly high and toil for his trust.
Night.

Deceptive peace.

A beautiful thing in an RPG.

Ah, the intrigues that are woven and spun...

Bring him in Bloodhearte, this character is looking for people to hire.

The figure veiled in black seems to stare out from under the blackness of the shadows cast by its hood. A cold stare of its eyes scan down the length of the writing on the parchment. It turns to walk away again, and smirks to itself with a hushed hiss and murmur:
"Have fun."

None at all.

Meheh. Hehe. Hehe.

Plant in the Southern and Eastern forests.
Do not get too close to where the Trolls lurk.
They shall appreciate it.

Night.

The figure shrouded in garments of darkness spots the parchments and slinks back off into the shadows of the woods. Whispered words are to be heard from it.

"Shadows... indeed."

Lips of a face—they seem to be chiseled into stone—form a cold smile.

A figure in black walks up to the wall, neither glancing directly at it nor turning its hooded head. Its hands shoot out from the darkness underneath the black cloak that surrounds it and it quickly slaps a parchment underneath the last, then impaling and nailing it into place with a shiny dagger: ...

A gloved fist strikes angrily into a wall. Drawn back again, two hands shoot out from the darkness within the cloak. Fingers veiled in black leather appear to claw at the wall as if desperately trying to tear it down single-handedly. A slender chin—almost as if chiseled into stone—is to be seen in ...

The figure in black watches from a hilltop, arms crossed before chest, watching over the outskirts of the town known as Troll's Bane, while a thick, eery fog had draped itself over the settlement. A heavy bag hangs from its side, and its cloak mysteriously sways and flaps in the wind around it. Wat...