The Divine voice of Matsuhama echoes in your head, "Greetings, Rean."

You tell Matsuhama, the Eternal Warrior, "Hail, my Lord."

The Divine voice of Matsuhama echoes in your head, "Acquire a decapitated head,
and ponder a proper statement as to why you wish to join the Host. Contact Me
once you are prepared."

You tell Matsuhama, the Eternal Warrior, "Moment."

Adding further detail to the doll of Santar, you work on defining the nose,
ears, eyes, and mouth.
You quickly sneak in another fashion.

With a flap of his majestic blue wings, Santar enters a tear in the fabric of
reality, and is gone.

(Market): You say, "Paying very well for a duel against a worthy opponent, win
or lose."

Micositu tells you, "Ha was just about to tell you I owe you a duel."

You tell Micositu, "Lovely!"

You tell Micositu, "I must acquire a decapitated head for my Lord."

Micositu tells you, "I have a gem use, so it works out."

You tell Micositu, "I will not be able to burst you, but I will let you follow
while I hunt."

Micositu tells you, "That is not necessary, you simply allowing me to hunt is
worth the duel."

You rub some prefarar on your wickedly sharp claws.

Your claws are already dripping with venoms, Wyrm.

Lunging forward with long, flashing claws extended, you tear into the flesh of
Micositu's left leg.

You conjure up your illusion towards Micositu.

Lunging forward with long, flashing claws extended, you tear into the flesh of
Micositu's left leg.

Drawing an enormous breath, you exhale, expelling a gale of wind with such force
that Micositu is knocked over.

Twisting to grasp Micositu in your powerful jaws, you sink your teeth deep into
his flesh before tossing his helpless body into the air and catching him once
more in your teeth.

Twisting to grasp Micositu in your powerful jaws, you sink your teeth deep into
his flesh before tossing his helpless body into the air and catching him once
more in your teeth.
You have slain Micositu.
A Mhojave falcon falls from Micositu's corpse.

You sink a glistening claw into the neck of the corpse and hack ruthlessly
through flesh, sinew and muscle.

You finally manage to sever the head from the corpse of Micositu, leaving only a
pool of blood where the head had been.

...

The Divine voice of Matsuhama echoes in your head, "It is fine to keep this
statement concise and to the point, Rean. We may save the eloquence for the
Darkwalkers."

You tell Matsuhama, the Eternal Warrior, "Ah. Oops!"

You tell Matsuhama, the Eternal Warrior, "Okay, I am ready then."

You are transported by the power of the Divine.

You bow respectfully to Matsuhama.

Matsuhama nods His head at you.

You give the decapitated head of Micositu to Matsuhama.

Matsuhama coughs softly.

You say in a deep, growling voice, "He was a worthy fight for me as a Shaman,
but a little easier as a Dragon."

Matsuhama gives the decapitated head of Micositu to you.

Matsuhama, the Eternal Warrior says, "Hold that for now."

Matsuhama smirks.

You say in a deep, growling voice, "Santar fled to the Gare and then from the
realms as soon as I started attacking him."

You nod your head emphatically.

Matsuhama, the Eternal Warrior says, "Take a moment to take in your
surroundings, Scion."

You nod your head emphatically.

Matsuhama, the Eternal Warrior says, "Brothers of the Host come to this Well
when they wish to speak with Me."

Matsuhama, the Eternal Warrior says, "After offering the head of a fallen
warrior, you may speak with Me, and your words shall resonate from the Well and
to My ears."

Matsuhama, the Eternal Warrior says, "Be prepared to state your reasons for
joining the Host, and drop the head into the Well."

You nod your head emphatically.

Rean takes a slow, deep breath as he prepares himself.

You drop the decapitated head of Micositu.
You step forward, being careful to toe the border of dirt before the Well, and
release the decapitated head of Micositu from your grip. The cacophony of
ghostly cries grows to a fervent pitch in response to your offering, their
discordant symphony echoing within your mind.

Matsuhama tilts His head and listens intently.

You say in a deep, growling voice, "I wish to join the Host because Combat has
always been a significant part of my life, and now it is even more significant.
For the majority of my life, I have been striving to improve my skills in order
to protect that which I cared about most. Now, I strive to improve my skills
just to improve them."
The discarnate cries fall immediately into reverent silence as the pit
reverberates the words of your prayer back to you.

Matsuhama nods His head at you.

Matsuhama, the Eternal Warrior says, "The band symbolizing your loyalty to me
rests at the bottom of this Well."

Matsuhama casts a dark, mischevious grin.

Matsuhama, the Eternal Warrior says, "Now, bring it back to me."

A sardonic smirk creeps over Lord Matsuhama's face before, with a casual wave of
His hand, your body is sent tumbling backward. Your surprised cry is abruptly
extinguished by the darkness of the pit as you fall helplessly into its depths.
Utter darkness. (Riparium?)
There are no obvious exits.

A cold wind whistles harshly over your ears as you continue your descent into
the depths of the earth. Darkness consumes your senses and all evidence of your
surroundings.

Dim-lit candles housed in gruesome bone sconces pass by you, their dull,
flickering flames casting a muted light on the walls of the pit as they blur
upward. Behind the flames, shadows twist upon themselves to form ghastly visages
of ill-fated warriors, their eyes burning with an eternal hatred.

A sharp keening grows louder in your ear, and the whistling of the wind comes to
a halt as your downward spiral reaches an abrupt end. Your bones crack as the
hard well-floor greets them and the keening fades, soon to be replaced by a soft
chorus of harsh, disembodied whispers.

The bottom of the Well of the Fallen.
A somber light flickers from within bone-ensconced candles, their flames
performing a lifeless dance as the faint, swirling wind spreads a nauseous reek
within the well. The true surface of the floor remains a mystery, hidden beneath
a gruesome coating of maggot-infested osseous remains. Empty eyes peer from the
cracks and crevices of the rough, rounded walls, which extend upward as far as
limited vision provides before being consumed by the oppressive darkness of the
pit. Echoing from the nooks come cacophonous whispers, telling tales of the
empty eternity doomed to mortal men.
There are no obvious exits.

The ethereal whispers abruptly hush as the spirits of three Rajamalan warriors
emerge from the walls themselves, shortswords held menacingly before their
lithe, translucent forms.

8121h, 6756m, 39505e, 23508w cexkdb-  (20:46:28:741)
With teeth bared aggressively, the spirit of a Rajamalan warrior lunges forward
and sinks his phantasmal claws into your chest.
Emitting an unearthly howl, the spirit of a Rajamalan warrior sinks his deadly
maw into your neck and clamps down tightly around it.
With teeth bared aggressively, the spirit of a Rajamalan warrior lunges forward
and sinks his phantasmal claws into your chest.
Your shield completely absorbs the damage.
7716h, 6756m, 39505e, 23508w cexkdb-  (20:46:28:880)(-405 Health)
<trying to move out of the room somehow>

You look about yourself, rubbing your chin thoughtfully.
7708h, 6756m, 39505e, 23874w cexkdb-  (20:48:18:541)
The words of the Eternal Warrior echo distantly from above, "Are you always this
docile, Wyrm?"

You rip into the spirit of a Rajamalan warrior with your massive, deadly claws.

The rumbling crescendos to a deafening roar, shaking loose dust and bits of bone
particles from above to shower down upon you. As the flames of the candles dance
violently beneath the earthen avalanche, the reverberation adopts the bellowing
voice of Lord Matsuhama, and His words ring in your ears, "So begins the journey
of the Scion. May you rise above the fallen, and begin your ascent to
Immortality!"

The rumbling fades into the distance and the dust settles on the osseous layer
covering the floor, revealing a ladder seemingly formed from the wall itself.

The bottom of the Well of the Fallen.
A somber light flickers from within bone-ensconced candles, their flames
performing a lifeless dance as the faint, swirling wind spreads a nauseous reek
within the well. The true surface of the floor remains a mystery, hidden beneath
a gruesome coating of maggot-infested osseous remains. Empty eyes peer from the
cracks and crevices of the rough, rounded walls, which extend upward as far as
limited vision provides before being consumed by the oppressive darkness of the
pit. Echoing from the nooks come cacophonous whispers, telling tales of the
empty eternity doomed to mortal men. Numerous rungs of a makeshift ladder ascend
the dirt wall on the eastern side of the pit bottom.
There are no obvious exits.

8121h, 6756m, 39285e, 24108w cexkdb-  (20:49:32:720)pull ladder

You manage to climb three, maybe four rungs of the ladder before the decaying
remains of an Atavian swoop from below and, with a rough tug on your ankle, pull
you back to the bottom of the well.

The decaying remains of an Atavian lifts himself quickly into the air and, with
deadly grace, dives forward toward your neck.
The decaying remains of an Atavian stretches his wings to full span and with a
vigorous shake, buffets you with a deadly force of wind.

You rip into the decaying remains of an Atavian with your massive, deadly claws.
You have scored a CRITICAL hit!

The familiar rumbling begins to build from deep below the pit bottom and the
candles, still held firmly in their bone sconces, send flickering flames up the
cavern's walls.

You ascend the roughshod ladder as quickly as possibly, one shaking hand over
the other until, with an exhausted and disappointed shake of your head, you
reach the apex.

The rumbling soon adopts the voice of the Eternal Warrior again, each word
sending dangerous tremours through the well. With deafening clarity you hear,
"Carried from village to village on the invisible wings of lesser men's gossip,
so shall your name live."

The inner walls shudder violently at the sound of a sharp *CRACK*, and the voice
is gone immediately. As the flames settle into their usual, lifeless dance, the
only remaining evidence of the booming voice is revealed: a sizable fissure
spanning vertically high above your head.

You ascend the roughshod ladder as quickly as possibly, one shaking hand over
the other until, with an exhausted and disappointed shake of your head, you
reach the apex.

p fissure

A web-like pattern of interconnecting cracks stretch just near eye level. From
within blows a cool, clean breeze. The soft crackle of flame can be heard from
inside, suggesting a relative peace from the well.

The edges of the fissure crumble and give way surprisingly easily to your
experimental prodding, revealing a larger pathway into the earth itself. The
quietness from within remains for one peaceful moment, before being replaced by
the echoed chorus of dozens of skittering legs.

You have no time to react before a sea of overgrown spiders bursts forth from
the newly-made cavern's darkness. The arachnids, reeking of death, swarm over
your body and overwhelmingly drag you back to the floor below.

With an insidious hiss, a large, skeletal spider rises itself on its back legs
and falls forward toward your chest.
With an insidious hiss, a large, skeletal spider rises itself on its back legs
and falls forward toward your chest.
Your shield completely absorbs the damage.
With an insidious hiss, a large, skeletal spider rises itself on its back legs
and falls forward toward your chest.
Your shield completely absorbs the damage.
From the spinnerets of a large, skeletal spider burst a webbing reeking of rot,
aimed toward your chest.
A large, skeletal spider attempts to transfix you, but succeeds only in curing
your blindness.

Another wave of skeletal arachnids flow from the fissure above the ladder, their
legs skittering precariously as they approach.

Little time passes before the thunderous voice of Lord Matsuhama returns.
Numerous small cracks spread and elongate throughout the walls of the well as
His words resonate, "And so the masses of men attempted to ensnare their Hero,
weaving webs of deceit to capture him, their Hero, within their own bindings of
mortality!"

A sharp crack sounds above your head as the earth violently resettles itself,
and a thin but steady stream of water mixed with blood and bone begins to
drizzle from the darkness above.

p ladder

The tall ladder is meant to be used to climb high trees in order to harvest the
fruits hanging from above.
It weighs about 15 pounds.


You ascend the roughshod ladder as quickly as possibly, one shaking hand over
the other until, with an exhausted and disappointed shake of your head, you
reach the apex.

l

High atop a dirt-hewn ladder.
Perched atop the deceptively high ladder only exaggerates the depth of the well.
The walls continue to stretch above until disappearing into darkness, while the
ground floor is barely visible by candlelight. The reek of decay is less
oppressive here, projecting a false sense of security. A large opening is torn
into the side of the well here, the inside bathed in darkness. Numerous rungs of
a makeshift ladder ascend the dirt wall on the eastern side of the pit bottom.
You see a single exit leading in.
in

An intimate alcove within the well wall.
Candles of the same make from outside this alcove adorn the walls in here,
although at a considerably less frequency. The air, which offers little in terms
of moisture, seems to stand still within this chamber, providing only an idle
whiff of death from the pit outside. Bordered by a small ring of candles is the
form of an outstretched arm capped by closed granite fist, extended from the
ground below. From one of the stone fingers gleams an expertly crafted black
onyx band.
There are no obvious exits.

Hewn from a single onyx stone, this ring has been carved to resemble the head of
a stout ram. Two wicked horns jut from the beast's skull, curving around the
finger to form a band that grips the flesh of its wearer with tenacity. The
ridges upon each horn have been tooled with the utmost detail, and the mark of
the Battlelord has been etched upon its brow, reflecting the greatest care taken
with its craftsmanship. Two glacial diamonds have been set within the ram's eye
sockets, their glistening surface faintly luminous, giving the ring a dominant,
but eerie look that implies the strength and authority of its owner.
It weighs 1 ounce(s).

With tremendous effort, you manage to pull the black onyx ring free of the stony
grasp holding it.

The walls of the inner sanctum begin to shudder subtly in response to a low,
unearthly growl.

The growl crescendos to a roar and the flames of the candles dance violently as
the room shakes. From outside the room you hear the unmistakable groaning of the
walls as their very foundation is rattled.

A mighty tear sounds from outside and water begins to gush outside the intimate
room. The roar's intensity increases even more, and once again the voice of Lord
Matsuhama sends violent tremors through the well, "From the clutch of the weak,
the ill, the lazy, that is where the Hero will snatch his Immortality!"

The roar mingles with the heavy rush of water from outside, and with no warning
the granite fist extends its digits and with a forceable blow, knocks you out of
the room.
High atop a dirt-hewn ladder.
Numerous rungs of a makeshift ladder ascend the dirt wall on the eastern side of
the pit bottom.
You see a single exit leading in.

The gruesome mixture of water, blood and bones climbs at a steady pace as it
pours from multiple fissures above. As the level ascends, so do you, floating
awkwardly atop the aqueous substance.

8121h, 6756m, 39283e, 24816w cexkdb-  (20:53:24:83)p band

Hewn from a single onyx stone, this ring has been carved to resemble the head of
a stout ram. Two wicked horns jut from the beast's skull, curving around the
finger to form a band that grips the flesh of its wearer with tenacity. The
ridges upon each horn have been tooled with the utmost detail, and the mark of
the Battlelord has been etched upon its brow, reflecting the greatest care taken
with its craftsmanship. Two glacial diamonds have been set within the ram's eye
sockets, their glistening surface faintly luminous, giving the ring a dominant,
but eerie look that implies the strength and authority of its owner.
It weighs 1 ounce(s).

With a final surge, the watery elevator forcefully catapults you from the depths
of the Well of the Fallen. Muted shrieks of desperation echo momentarily in your
head before, finally, all of them have silenced.
A brilliant bonfire north of the Well.
Obsidian staff held firmly in hand, Tyyana, Herald of the Host stands here. A
Scrula war chieftain raises his four weapons and snarls defensively at your
arrival. The Eldre'Quessar, Dumah Lucoster de Soulis is here. Matsuhama, the
Eternal Warrior looms nearby, a look of careful observation crossing His stoic
features.
There are no obvious exits.

Tyyana, Herald of the Host's mouth turns up as her face breaks into a smile.

You say in a deep, growling voice, "Ah. Apologies for the delay. I hadn't known
if it was a maze and it would be disrespectful to slay the spirits, or if it was
as You intended."

You say in a deep, growling voice, "I have the band, my Lord."

You display a rugged looking onyx band for all in the room to see.

You bow respectfully to Tyyana, Herald of the Host.

You give a rugged looking onyx band to Matsuhama.

This woman, short in stature, maintains all the lithe features inherent in
Tsol'aa women, yet keeps them mostly hidden beneath a thick riding cloak. The
garment itself drapes loosely from the woman's slender shoulders and down to the
floor; the soft swishing of which providing the only warning of her advance. The
cloak, held loosely together in the front by the tied end of the tuft of a
lion's tail, appears to be entirely fashioned from the beast itself. A mottled
firey red and orange fur, surprisingly soft to the touch, spreads over the body
of the cloak, while the great animal's mane has been cut to adorn the hood of
the cloak. She loosely holds a long, slender staff hewn of obsidian in her right
hand, the archaic symbol of three interlocked triangles barely visible above her
deceivingly frail-looking digits.
 Tyyana, Herald of the Host looks to be crushingly strong.
She weighs about 170 pounds.
She is loyal to Matsuhama.
You see nothing in it.

The Eldre'Quessar, Dumah Lucoster de Soulis says, "They're rather nice bands
aren't they."

You see Tyyana, Herald of the Host shout, "And let it be known that the mighty
dragon, Rean, has officially begun his journey toward Immortality, and become a
brother of the Host of Lord Matsuhama, the Eternal Warrior!"

Matsuhama grants you entrance into the Divine Order of Matsuhama, the Eternal
Warrior. Congratulations!

The Eldre'Quessar, Dumah Lucoster de Soulis says, "Shame you didn't want to keep
yours!"

Daevos tells you, "Congratulations."

Bayla tells you, "Cheer!"

Comprehension flashes across your face.

Lenneth tells you, "Whee congrats."

Kagrato tells you, "Congrats."

Gareyth tells you, "Cool... whatd ya do?"

You cough softly.

The following members of the Order of Matsuhama are in the realms:
Matsuhama, the Eternal Warrior
The Eldre'Quessar, Dumah Lucoster de Soulis

Matsuhama smirks.

(Order): Matsuhama says, "Greetings, Rean."

Scatter tells you, "Hi."

Phe tells you, "Congratulations!"

Message #6473       Sent by Balthazaar
1/05/1:55 Woot!  Congrats!

(Scions of Battle): Plyth says, "Congratulations, Rean."

(Order): You say, "Hail, my Lord."

Scatter tells you, "Question what exactly is meant by that."

(Order): Dumah says, "Welcome."

Scatter tells you, "Are you working towards being a demi god ?"

(Order): You say, "Erm. Sorry for the stumbling along the way."

A brilliant bonfire north of the Well.
A brilliant flame dances in what little wind blows here, deafening crackles and
pops sounding from its massive form. Stars of various shape and size move at a
rapid pace in the dark sky above, forming majestic constellations for just brief
moments before moving on to the next. Whiffs of spices and cooked meats are
carried by the subtle breeze, while a mixed chorus of cheering men is barely
audible between the bonfire's percussion. Obsidian staff held firmly in hand,
Tyyana, Herald of the Host stands here. A Scrula war chieftain raises his four
weapons and snarls defensively at your arrival. Matsuhama, the Eternal Warrior
looms nearby, a look of careful observation crossing His stoic features. The
Eldre'Quessar, Dumah Lucoster de Soulis is here.
There are no obvious exits.

A mighty Scrula war chieftain offers a rough grunt, and a slight congratulatory
nod of his head.

Darroth tells you, "Grats."

You tell Darroth Vallah, "Thankyou!"

You tell Warlock Mage Gareyth Storm-Montenegro, "I gained entry to the Lord's
Order."

You tell Lenneth Wolfstamme-Lokelinde, "Thank you."

You tell Kagrato, "Thankyou!"

Gareyth tells you, "Ah cool."

You tell Sentinel Wolf Bayla Wolfstamme-Stormwind, "Thank you."

Matsuhama, the Eternal Warrior says, "Rean, meet My Herald of the Host, Tyyana."

(Ashtan): Lenneth says, "Congratulations, Rean."

You say in a deep, growling voice, "Hail, Lady Herald."

You bow respectfully to Tyyana, Herald of the Host.

Tyyana, Herald of the Host inclines her head politely.

Kagrato tells you, "Long time no see."

This woman, short in stature, maintains all the lithe features inherent in
Tsol'aa women, yet keeps them mostly hidden beneath a thick riding cloak. The
garment itself drapes loosely from the woman's slender shoulders and down to the
floor; the soft swishing of which providing the only warning of her advance. The
cloak, held loosely together in the front by the tied end of the tuft of a
lion's tail, appears to be entirely fashioned from the beast itself. A mottled
firey red and orange fur, surprisingly soft to the touch, spreads over the body
of the cloak, while the great animal's mane has been cut to adorn the hood of
the cloak. She loosely holds a long, slender staff hewn of obsidian in her right
hand, the archaic symbol of three interlocked triangles barely visible above her
deceivingly frail-looking digits.
 Tyyana, Herald of the Host looks to be crushingly strong.

The Eldre'Quessar, Dumah Lucoster de Soulis says, "I think he smells a little
bit like cheese."

Dumah pokes at you urgently.

The corners of your mouth turn up as you grin mischievously.

Tyyana, Herald of the Host says, "You have been most impressive as a Scion,
Rean. Do not disappoint us as a Brother."

You nod your head at Tyyana, Herald of the Host.

You say in a deep, growling voice, "I intend to become the first Dragon to truly
utilize the potential strength of the mighty race."

(Order): Dumah says, "It's good to have a fresh face here. I was beginning to
get lonely."

(Order): You say, "I can imagine."

(Order): Dumah says, "Not that you aren't good company, Lord."

You say in a deep, growling voice, "I will not disappoint you, Lady Herald. This
I promise."

Tyyana, Herald of the Host smiles encouragingly and nods.

(Order): Dumah says, "As with the Scions clan, there are a few help files
written for the Order which I'd like you to disregard for the moment."

Tears flow freely from your eyes as Matsuhama appoints you to Recruit.

(Order): You say, "Ah, okay."

(Order): Dumah says, "I mean feel free to read them but they're not all relevant
anymore."

(Order): Dumah says, "I'll be working on that."

Matsuhama, the Eternal Warrior says, "I think I will bring the Archdragon here,
now, to discuss some matters of importance."

Rean swells with pride and lets his face divide into a large, toothy smile.

Dumah nods his head emphatically.

Matsuhama, the Eternal Warrior says to you, "For now, the band serves little
purpose but as an outward symbol of your loyalty to Me."

You nod your head emphatically.

You say in a deep, growling voice, "Ah. May I have it back? I thought I should
keep it, but I wasn't positive."

Matsuhama, the Eternal Warrior says, "Such a generous soul."

Matsuhama smirks.

Matsuhama gives a rugged looking onyx band to you.

The corners of your mouth turn up as you grin mischievously.

Matsuhama, the Eternal Warrior says, "Do not lose it again."

You say in a deep, growling voice, "Thank You my Lord."

You are now wearing a rugged looking onyx band.

You say in a deep, growling voice, "None will take it from me, not even in
death."

Matsuhama nods His head at you.

Matsuhama, the Eternal Warrior says, "I will speak with you again in a moment.
For now, I'll set you back where you are most comfortable."

You say in a deep, growling voice, "Thank You, my Lord."

North of New Thera (road). (Central Wilderness)
The stars twinkle in the clear night sky. A rune like a lightning bolt has been
sketched into the ground here. There are 4 lottery boxes here. A polished wooden
sign is nailed to a small tree here. A ladder of long, soft leaves comprises a
wispy Weaver's Fern along the ground. A dyed gold poster bearing the title
"Sabiru!" has been hung here. There are 2 pikes with the head of Deladan on it
here. There are 2 pikes with the head of Merador on it here. A pike with the
decapitated head of Tanris has been erected. A flame-charred chariot pulled by
demonic goats stands here. Standing still as a statue, a blood steed has fixed
its fiery red eyes on some movement in the distance. The shadow of Tuerney casts
a pall across the room, a dark reminder that its master cannot be far away.
Looking ready for anything, a hulking war elephant stands here. Tordek is here.
Saadya, the Hanging Carcass is here. Calamiddes Yusef, the Calamitous is riding
on a war elephant. He wields a needle-pointed dirk in his left hand and a Shield
of Absorption in his right.
You see exits leading north, southeast, south, southwest, and northwest.
You are transported by the power of the Divine.