EQ2 FURNITURE



Total items in category Books (Leather): 12
Books
a goblin's notebook - The Hideout
This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.

This completed book can be placed in your house and read.

NO-TRADE


Discovered on 13 May 2008 at 9:45:51 PDT.
We Gobblerock have found secret place. We steal from Militia, hide in here. Tell in book, good for remember.
Watch the front... the Grunt, Swindler and Shaman do. Weak they, but watch good. Gobblerock like let weak die first.
Train the slug, they good pet. We stole many things from Militia today, hide them here. The butchers fight with tricksters who better, but we know haruspex is best. They get ready for raid now.
We train hard, brutes getting stronger and prophets getting smarter. Raid, Raid, raid... that what we do. The hooligans are playing card, me play too now.
Boss Gobblerock and us raid the Militia, we keep stuff selves. We keep secret place. Great Gobbler protect us.
Books
a goblin's notebook - The Hideout
This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.

This completed book can be placed in your house and read.


Discovered on 7 Jan 2005 at 20:38:35 PST.
We Gobblerock have found secret place. We steal from Militia, hide in here. Tell in book, good for remember.
Entry One
Put book away.
Watch the front... the Grunt, Swindler and Shaman do. Weak they, but watch good. Gobblerock like let weak die first.
Entry Two
Put book away.
Train the slug, they good pet. We stole many things from Militia today, hide them here. The butchers fight with tricksters who better, but we know haruspex is best. They get ready for raid now.
Entry Three
Put book away.
We train hard, brutes getting stronger and prophets getting smarter. Raid, Raid, raid... that what we do. The hooligans are playing card, me play too now.
Entry Four
Put book away.
Boss Gobblerock and us raid the Militia, we keep stuff selves. We keep secret place. Great Gobbler protect us.
Close Book.
Unobtainable
a weathered book
This item can be placed in any house type.



Undiscovered.
Books
Cleaning with the Cryptkeeper
This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.

This completed book can be placed in your house and read.

NO-TRADE

Quest reward from [28] Keeper of the Crypt (Crypt of Betrayal), started by Cleaning with the Cryptkeeper (purchased from Indis Surion in Qeynos Capitol District or Navarius Orvalis in The City of Freeport or Ricka Stonehide in Frostfang Sea or Beata Sringer in City of Fordel Midst).

Purchased from Indis Surion in Qeynos Capitol District (702, 82, 129) or Navarius Orvalis in The City of Freeport (10, -7, -134) or Piritta Silvarri in Greater Faydark (151, 109, 175) or Ricka Stonehide in Frostfang Sea (-115, 149, -90) or Beata Sringer in City of Fordel Midst (735, -9, -744)
requires completing the Quest "Keeper of the Crypt"
for 1c.

Discovered on 13 May 2008 at 9:47:14 PDT.
"Crypt Cleaning," by the Maglus family, proud keepers of the Qeynos crypts since the Age of Turmoil.
I am the current Cryptkeeper Maglus, but there's been one of our family working down here for generation upon generation. The job hands down to the second child in the family, whether male or female. Lucky for Qeynos, there's been a second Maglus child since the beginning, because I don't think any of the tombs would look even this good without us.
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "But Maglus, this place is an absolute DUMP!" It is and it isn't. While maybe my housekeeping skills aren't the best, I still follow the traditional methods used in the past. I mean -- look at your own place! If your home had lasted through chaos and disease and moons exploding in the air, not to mention the grounds heaving and hurling things everywhere -- it probably wouldn't look any better than the Crypt!
First thing you need to do is get a good, sturdy broom and dustpan. I have a custom-made broom with an extra-long handle so I can clear cobwebs and dust from higher ledges. As a dwarf, my own reach is a bit limited, but I manage. To keep your broom good as new, wrap the bristles with a soft old cloth before swinging it at cobwebs. Lucky for me, folks come down and clear out those nasty undead creatures, leaving behind an abundance of soft old cloths!
Most of the Bayles were buried above-ground, but there's Bayle down here whose crypt I keep. In the days of Antonius Bayle the Third, the Cryptkeeper Maglus then used to have to chase the boys out of the crypts. Except for that Kane Bayle. Now, I know he grew up to be a villain and all, but apparently he was a real thoughtful as a boy. Always stopped to chat with the Maglus of his day, bringing in some of his friends to keep her company. He may have ended up wrong, but he was a good boy.
The stones of this area of the crypt are really showing their age, despite all the Maglus' family efforts. That granite shows up every stain unless we can get to it right away. What I do is first give the area a good scrubbing with a handful of sea salt. Then I pour a bit of vinegar mixed with little bit of water on the area, let it soak for a minute or so, then wipe it off with -- you guessed it! A soft old cloth! After that, rinse the area with water, or the vinegar will chew on the mortar.
To pass the time, I've been studying some of those old magic arts, potions and things. There's always a lot to do down here, but it can get tedious. I recollect my father (who was Cryptkeeper before me) telling me how one day, he'd taken down all the burial urns from their shelves and dusted each one individually before putting it back, just to pass the time. I'd rather do something as will improve my mind. Those urns do get on my nerves, I don't mind confessing.
A long time ago, of course, folks were dressed in their finest duds, then laid out to rest in a proper coffin. When things got a bit hectic, around the War of Plagues, there were lots of dead folk, and some had no kin to bury them. That and with the diseases running rampant through Qeynos, the Cryptkeeper of that time decided it would be safer to burn up the bodies and put the ashes in little urns. It was a good idea, I just wish so many folk hadn't taken up the concept.
I'm sure you've seen them big statues in some of the rooms? We didn't put them there, meaning the Bayles or the Maglus' family. They were built up by someone else, possibly them Bloodsabers that started hanging around down here. At first, I thought they were mighty nice and I really enjoyed dusting them. Then I happened to one day look at the fires these statues are facing, and what do you know? There's a skull in them! That sure gave me a turn!
We went through that long stretch where nobody knew if there'd be another Antonius Bayle. That kind of put the Maglus family at loose ends, being keepers of the city's crypts and all. As you know everything turned out fine, with that pretty Antonia Bayle coming home. I met her once and told her about the family's job and she says, "I'm glad to meet you, Maglus!" I hope when she dies, she gets buried above ground. Not that I want her to die during my watch, that's for sure.
If there's one thing the Maglus family is used to, it's change. The world's changed quite a bit since my forebears first took on the job as keepers of the Qeynos crypts. Things change, there's a lot of weird critters down here that I don't mind saying scare me. Still, it's a steady job and in this economy, that's a good thing to have.
Books
Cleaning with the Cryptkeeper
This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.

This completed book can be placed in your house and read.


Discovered on 24 Nov 2004 at 21:34:43 PST.
"Crypt Cleaning," by the Maglus family, proud keepers of the Qeynos crypts since the Age of Turmoil.
Entry One
Put book away.
I am the current Cryptkeeper Maglus, but there's been one of our family working down here for generation upon generation. The job hands down to the second child in the family, whether male or female. Lucky for Qeynos, there's been a second Maglus child since the beginning, because I don't think any of the tombs would look even this good without us.
Entry Two
Put book away.
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "But Maglus, this place is an absolute DUMP!" It is and it isn't. While maybe my housekeeping skills aren't the best, I still follow the traditional methods used in the past. I mean -- look at your own place! If your home had lasted through chaos and disease and moons exploding in the air, not to mention the grounds heaving and hurling things everywhere -- it probably wouldn't look any better than the Crypt!
Entry Three
Put book away.
First thing you need to do is get a good, sturdy broom and dustpan. I have a custom-made broom with an extra-long handle so I can clear cobwebs and dust from higher ledges. As a dwarf, my own reach is a bit limited, but I manage. To keep your broom good as new, wrap the bristles with a soft old cloth before swinging it at cobwebs. Lucky for me, folks come down and clear out those nasty undead creatures, leaving behind an abundance of soft old cloths!
Entry Four
Put book away.
Most of the Bayles were buried above-ground, but there's Bayle down here whose crypt I keep. In the days of Antonius Bayle the Third, the Cryptkeeper Maglus then used to have to chase the boys out of the crypts. Except for that Kane Bayle. Now, I know he grew up to be a villain and all, but apparently he was a real thoughtful as a boy. Always stopped to chat with the Maglus of his day, bringing in some of his friends to keep her company. He may have ended up wrong, but he was a good boy.
Entry Five
Put book away.
The stones of this area of the crypt are really showing their age, despite all the Maglus' family efforts. That granite shows up every stain unless we can get to it right away. What I do is first give the area a good scrubbing with a handful of sea salt. Then I pour a bit of vinegar mixed with little bit of water on the area, let it soak for a minute or so, then wipe it off with -- you guessed it! A soft old cloth! After that, rinse the area with water, or the vinegar will chew on the mortar.
Entry Six
Put book away.
To pass the time, I've been studying some of those old magic arts, potions and things. There's always a lot to do down here, but it can get tedious. I recollect my father (who was Cryptkeeper before me) telling me how one day, he'd taken down all the burial urns from their shelves and dusted each one individually before putting it back, just to pass the time. I'd rather do something as will improve my mind. Those urns do get on my nerves, I don't mind confessing.
Entry Seven
Put book away.
A long time ago, of course, folks were dressed in their finest duds, then laid out to rest in a proper coffin. When things got a bit hectic, around the War of Plagues, there were lots of dead folk, and some had no kin to bury them. That and with the diseases running rampant through Qeynos, the Cryptkeeper of that time decided it would be safer to burn up the bodies and put the ashes in little urns. It was a good idea, I just wish so many folk hadn't taken up the concept.
Entry Eight
Put book away.
I'm sure you've seen them big statues in some of the rooms? We didn't put them there, meaning the Bayles or the Maglus' family. They were built up by someone else, possibly them Bloodsabers that started hanging around down here. At first, I thought they were mighty nice and I really enjoyed dusting them. Then I happened to one day look at the fires these statues are facing, and what do you know? There's a skull in them! That sure gave me a turn!
Entry Nine
Put book away.
We went through that long stretch where nobody knew if there'd be another Antonius Bayle. That kind of put the Maglus family at loose ends, being keepers of the city's crypts and all. As you know everything turned out fine, with that pretty Antonia Bayle coming home. I met her once and told her about the family's job and she says, "I'm glad to meet you, Maglus!" I hope when she dies, she gets buried above ground. Not that I want her to die during my watch, that's for sure.
Entry Ten
Put book away.
If there's one thing the Maglus family is used to, it's change. The world's changed quite a bit since my forebears first took on the job as keepers of the Qeynos crypts. Things change, there's a lot of weird critters down here that I don't mind saying scare me. Still, it's a steady job and in this economy, that's a good thing to have.
Close Book.
Books
End of the Rending
This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.

This completed book can be placed in your house and read.

NO-TRADE

Quest reward from [41] End of the Rending (Rivervale), started by examining End of the Rending (found in North Qeynos (281, -18, -80)) (found in Qeynos Capitol District (281, -18, -80)).

Discovered on 13 May 2008 at 9:46:32 PDT.
This is a story of how the Rending was stopped. Others may tell their own stories, but for the faithful, there can be only one answer.
Her father had traveled by sea to Freeport and then the dangerous over land route to Qeynos. "We are not like the men of Freeport," Danei's father said repeatedly. Well, Danei thought to herself, we are not much like the men of Qeynos, either. Her father was Feir'Dal, an archer. Her mother, whom she had never met, was a human female of Qeynos. Danei had lived with the Feir'Dal all her life, but now they were going to Qeynos.
"Where will we live?" Danei asked again. She dragged a long stick in the dirt behind her, letting it kick up tails of dust and tiny rocks. "We live where Tunare sends us," her father answered. Apparently Tunare was sending them into the city. They had lived outside its walls, especially during the massive earthquakes that shook the lands day and night. Danei had been frightened when the lands slid into the sea, afraid she would slide in with them.
The city was rebuilding. Again, apparently. Danei's father, though an archer by training, worked alongside the other elves, the humans and barbarians to carry out the dwarven designs. They could not find her mother; no one knew where her family had fled. And so Danei's days were long and tedious. When the ground rumbled beneath her, Danei huddled beneath the massive oak table in their home and would not come out until her father came home.
Eventually, Danei met the other children in her neighborhood. Some were half-elven. Some were Feir'Dal. The cobbled streets and stone buildings made them uncomfortable and so they liked to climb the dust-choked trees in the small courtyards. "These trees are dying," whispered one of the Feir'Dal. "Tunare needs to speak with Karana and send some rain." Danei laughed, "Tunare cannot speak to him; they're gone!" But the lad insisted. His name was Genoa.
Genoa liked to tell tales of the ancient days, when the gods walked the world. Danei wasn't sure she believed all his tales, but she liked listening to them anyway. When the ground rumbled and shook, they would hide together and Danei was no longer afraid to come back out before her father returned. She and Genoa would hold hands and race through the streets, competing to see who could spot the latest damage.
"Our tree," said Danei as they ran out into the courtyard after a particularly fierce quake. The tree in their courtyard had fallen sideways, half of its roots pointing skyward while its branches lay along the dusty cobblestones like a cat stretching. "Our tree," echoed Genoa, touching its bark. They stood together and looked at it. Danei was sorry the tree had fallen. Genoa, however, seemed devastated. He walked around it, touching it gently as though it were a rare blossom and not a gnarled tree.
"I know what we can do," Danei said, tugging at Genoa's sleeve. "Let's ask Tunare to make it stop." Genoa looked at her sadly, "You don't believe in Tunare; don't make fun of me." Danei shook her head and said, "I don't not believe in her, either. If she'll stop the shaking, then we'll know she's there, won't we?" This seemed sensible, but Genoa was hesitant. Danei goaded him, "If you don't believe in her, just say so." They fought so hard then that it took two adults to pull them apart.
"I'm sorry, Genoa," Danei said. She was very sorry; the look on Genoa's face was terrible. She hadn't meant to take Tunare from him. He did not speak to her, jerking away from her offered hand and running home. Danei stood for a long time in the dusty street staring after him, swallowing over the lump in her throat. She felt...she felt just like Genoa must feel without Tunare. Danei had to prove to him Tunare still cared, she had to!
Danei took an ancient and brittle cup carved from Faydwer trees that she felt best suited to the task, filled it with water and went out that night. Standing beside the up-ended tree, Danei whispered, "Tunare, mother of us all, please talk to someone about the earth shakes. Please help me make up with Genoa. But mostly, make the ground stop moving." She poured the water in a thin stream over the roots, then took the cup back inside.
The ground did not shake once over night. The next day, Danei ran out of the house and the tree was standing upright once again. She saw Genoa and ran over to him. He said, "I saw you praying last night...I guess Tunare heard you all right." Danei nodded. "She heard me, Genoa. Everything will be okay." They stood hand in hand looking up at the tree in their courtyard. The ground did not shake again.
Books
End of the Rending
This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.

This completed book can be placed in your house and read.

Quest reward from [41] End of the Rending (Rivervale), started by examining End of the Rending (found in North Qeynos (281, -18, -80)) (found in Qeynos Capitol District (281, -18, -80)).

Discovered on 8 Jan 2005 at 1:26:15 PST.
This is a story of how the Rending was stopped. Others may tell their own stories, but for the faithful, there can be only one answer.
Entry One
Put book away.
Her father had traveled by sea to Freeport and then the dangerous over land route to Qeynos. "We are not like the men of Freeport," Danei's father said repeatedly. Well, Danei thought to herself, we are not much like the men of Qeynos, either. Her father was Feir'Dal, an archer. Her mother, whom she had never met, was a human female of Qeynos. Danei had lived with the Feir'Dal all her life, but now they were going to Qeynos.
Entry Two
Put book away.
"Where will we live?" Danei asked again. She dragged a long stick in the dirt behind her, letting it kick up tails of dust and tiny rocks. "We live where Tunare sends us," her father answered. Apparently Tunare was sending them into the city. They had lived outside its walls, especially during the massive earthquakes that shook the lands day and night. Danei had been frightened when the lands slid into the sea, afraid she would slide in with them.
Entry Three
Put book away.
The city was rebuilding. Again, apparently. Danei's father, though an archer by training, worked alongside the other elves, the humans and barbarians to carry out the dwarven designs. They could not find her mother; no one knew where her family had fled. And so Danei's days were long and tedious. When the ground rumbled beneath her, Danei huddled beneath the massive oak table in their home and would not come out until her father came home.
Entry Four
Put book away.
Eventually, Danei met the other children in her neighborhood. Some were half-elven. Some were Feir'Dal. The cobbled streets and stone buildings made them uncomfortable and so they liked to climb the dust-choked trees in the small courtyards. "These trees are dying," whispered one of the Feir'Dal. "Tunare needs to speak with Karana and send some rain." Danei laughed, "Tunare cannot speak to him; they're gone!" But the lad insisted. His name was Genoa.
Entry Five
Put book away.
Genoa liked to tell tales of the ancient days, when the gods walked the world. Danei wasn't sure she believed all his tales, but she liked listening to them anyway. When the ground rumbled and shook, they would hide together and Danei was no longer afraid to come back out before her father returned. She and Genoa would hold hands and race through the streets, competing to see who could spot the latest damage.
Entry Six
Put book away.
"Our tree," said Danei as they ran out into the courtyard after a particularly fierce quake. The tree in their courtyard had fallen sideways, half of its roots pointing skyward while its branches lay along the dusty cobblestones like a cat stretching. "Our tree," echoed Genoa, touching its bark. They stood together and looked at it. Danei was sorry the tree had fallen. Genoa, however, seemed devastated. He walked around it, touching it gently as though it were a rare blossom and not a gnarled tree.
Entry Seven
Put book away.
"I know what we can do," Danei said, tugging at Genoa's sleeve. "Let's ask Tunare to make it stop." Genoa looked at her sadly, "You don't believe in Tunare; don't make fun of me." Danei shook her head and said, "I don't not believe in her, either. If she'll stop the shaking, then we'll know she's there, won't we?" This seemed sensible, but Genoa was hesitant. Danei goaded him, "If you don't believe in her, just say so." They fought so hard then that it took two adults to pull them apart.
Entry Eight
Put book away.
"I'm sorry, Genoa," Danei said. She was very sorry; the look on Genoa's face was terrible. She hadn't meant to take Tunare from him. He did not speak to her, jerking away from her offered hand and running home. Danei stood for a long time in the dusty street staring after him, swallowing over the lump in her throat. She felt...she felt just like Genoa must feel without Tunare. Danei had to prove to him Tunare still cared, she had to!
Entry Nine
Put book away.
Danei took an ancient and brittle cup carved from Faydwer trees that she felt best suited to the task, filled it with water and went out that night. Standing beside the up-ended tree, Danei whispered, "Tunare, mother of us all, please talk to someone about the earth shakes. Please help me make up with Genoa. But mostly, make the ground stop moving." She poured the water in a thin stream over the roots, then took the cup back inside.
Entry Ten
Put book away.
The ground did not shake once over night. The next day, Danei ran out of the house and the tree was standing upright once again. She saw Genoa and ran over to him. He said, "I saw you praying last night...I guess Tunare heard you all right." Danei nodded. "She heard me, Genoa. Everything will be okay." They stood hand in hand looking up at the tree in their courtyard. The ground did not shake again.
Close Book.
Books
Selected Poems
This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.

A competent bookbinder is a valuable resource who can restore any book that's had pages removed.

Collection reward from [54] Selected Poems (Tome).

Components
Selected Poems - Page 5 (shinies in Maj'Dul)
Selected Poems - Page 6 (shinies in Maj'Dul)
Selected Poems - Page 8 (plundered from a basket at -211, 161, -75 in Maj'Dul)
Selected Poems - Page 11 (plundered from a scroll at -233, 160, -116 in Maj'Dul)
Selected Poems - Page 15 (shinies in Maj'Dul)
Selected Poems - Page 19 (plundered from a scroll at -157, 177, -106 in Maj'Dul)
Selected Poems - Page 20 (plundered from a wooden chest at -243, 135, -12 in Maj'Dul)

Discovered on 20 Sep 2005 at 16:48:56 PDT.
A collection of poems.
This collection was written by Dervin poets, relating different themes common to everyone: love, loss, and hope.
"The Heart Remembers"
Though scholars have debated the matter, the identity of the sultan and his bride remain a mystery. Some say it is a reference to Ahkari, the founder of Maj'Dul. The earliest versions of this poem pre-date the city by centuries, however.
The dark of night

Brings whispering winds

And tales of fanciful dreams

The sultan appears on his steed

The heart trembles,

The heart remembers

The dreams of long ago
The love he held

For his young bride

Her beauty and charm held him

The sultan, lord of the lands,

      in thrall

The heart remembers,

The heart trembles

Love's poem of long ago
Love dreamt by night

Made true by day

And yet, the dreams they shared

Were but delicate blossoms

The heart trembles

The heart remembers

Ah, love lost long ago
In their palace

When he has gone

She quietly awaits her love

Through long cold days

and sleepless nights

The heart remembers,

The heart trembles

Love, so patiently, awaits
"Sand castles"
In the aftermath of the Rending, many poets wrote of the catastrophes that sundered the world.



In this poem by Dervin poet Alyarrah Mahaat, the Rending is characterized as barrashar invaders arriving by sea.
In my dreams I was a child

In our home beside the sea

We walked together to the shore

Where I built a sand castle for thee
Grey gulls cried out high above

And the sun shone fierce and bright

Warming the pearls

of clear white sand

That I shaped with my hands of delight
Wind upon the turquoise sea

Caps the waves with pale grey foam

And draws dark ships closer

Tarnish, growing in the silver gloam
A ship, tall and black, arrives

The day is now dark and cold

And I hide behind my castle

Longing for your hand to hold
The barrashar pour forth

      from their ship

Burning,

      trampling,

            destroying...

My sand castle tumbled to dust

And you...

And all I love...

Are now gone
In my dream I was a child

In our home beside the sea

I walk, alone, along the shore

Where I build a castle in the air

And where I will wait for thee
"The Saracen"
The Saracen is legendary amongst the inhabitants of Maj'Dul.



With his prowess in the arena, the Saracen champions changes in the laws that benefit the poor and most unfortunate. No one knows his true identity, for his face is veiled and he speaks to no one.
Striding into battle,

      his face veiled from view

The Saracen arrives

      to the cheers of the crowd

He nods, he bows, but he speaks not

Yet all know what

      he will do on this day

He will win today
His beast with horns

      gleaming and sharp

Had never been beaten in combat

Its hooves are polished

      by the sand

His bearing is proud and aloof

He will win today
Do you walk through Maj'Dul  And not hear
      the cheering crowds?  From lowest born      to highest caste  The Saracen is renowned  He will win today
And when he wins,

      new laws are made

He clothes the poor

      widows' children

He feeds those

      who cannot pay

He brings hope

      where none was before

He has already won
Books
The History of Ayr'Dal
This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.

This completed book can be placed in your house and read.


Discovered on 24 Dec 2004 at 0:50:00 PST.
Through my own experiences, I have gained knowledge and insight into the Ayr'Dal.
Reread Story
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Each part of this history tome can only be completed in its own time.
Read Story 1
Read Story 2
Read Story 3
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My name is Trinni Mellosius and I'm a half-elf. I guess that's why my teacher asked me to write a research paper about our history. As if we have a history of our own! But since I need to pass this class, I guess I'll write one.
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So you're walking around Qeynos, or maybe even Freeport (I live in Willow Wood, so I just have to guess about you-know-where) and you see someone who has pointy ears like an elf, is taller than an elf, but not so tall as a human and what have you got? Ayr'Dal!
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In my opinion, which doesn't necessarily reflect the view of my teacher, half-elves are gorgeous, with our pointy ears and great complexions. I mean, high elves look kind of scrawny next to one of us, don't they? They're... ethereal-like. It's kind of creepy.
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Obviously, we're called half-elves because half our blood is elvish. What makes the other half? Human! I don't know that there's any half-elf that's like, half elf and half dwarf, so it's always half-human. Why they don't call us half-human, I don't know.
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Actually, I do know: half-human is an insult. Which makes me wonder: is half-elf supposed to be an insult, too? That would be pretty rotten, don't you think? Anyway, back to our history. So, an elf and a human fell in love and their baby turned out to be one of us.
Close
Mostly half-elves are the off-spring of humans and Feir'Dal. That's because wood elves are really the nicest of the bunch and don't mind talking to other folks. My best friend Daryann is a wood elf. She's like a sister to me. Say?I wonder if she really IS my sister? That would be great!
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So, if a half-elf marries a half-elf and they have a child, is that child a quarter-elf? If a half-elf marries a full-elf (probably a Feir'Dal, they're the nicest), is their baby a three-quarters-elf? Could my descendants (if I have any) marry elves enough to eventually turn back into full-elves? Thinking about that kind of stuff makes my head hurt!
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I don't mind telling you that I can't stand those snooty Koada'Dal. Who do they think they are, anyway? I mean, half-elves are elves too! Sort of. They talk down to us, as I'm sure the Teir'Dal do in Freeport about their half-elves. But think about it: we're children of love!
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The only elves who are actually decent to us are the Feir'Dal. So, when their homes were all torn up and Kelethin was destroyed, who took them in? Ayr'Dal! Those lightweight Koada'Dal couldn't be bothered, of course. The snobs. Humans, which are the other half in a half-elf, have usually treated us fairly. You might run into one or two of those types that don't hold with mixed marriages, but I have to say again: we're the children of love.
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And you can't force anyone to love anything else, just because of what they are. Except maybe for badgers. They're really mean and once I got a nasty slice on my arm from one -- I'll show you the scar later -- but gosh, they sure are cute! I totally adore those little pink noses! So even though they're mean, I absolutely love badgers just for being badgers.
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When Luclin shattered, it was pretty awesome. All of Norrath had already been through some pretty rough times, and then the biggest thing in the sky suddenly goes kerPOW one day? I'm glad I didn't see it, though, because it might have been creepy. I'm sure you heard the story of the duckling that goes around saying, "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!" -- or was it a goose? Anyway, was that about the Shattering or what? It was written by a half-elf! True story! We're pretty creative.
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It's real funny, I think, that the high-and-mighty high elves now have to live like the rest of us, among the mortals. Sometimes I'll sneak over into Castleview Hamlet just to irritate them. They'd rather we "remembered our place" and stay in the Willow Wood.
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You see, the Willow Wood has been the home of half-elves for a very long time. The humans can be as snobby as the high elves sometimes, and we half-elves really liked doing things our own way. So we built our little village right there and it's been great.
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As I mentioned earlier, when the wood elves got displaced from Faydark, they came right to us. We like a lot of the same things, although not the same kind of music, but that's okay. We get along fine.
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Teacher's Note: Trinni, you have as usual managed to fill space without substance. You will re-write your paper, correcting any fallacies and removing your personal opinions therefrom. Badgers! Indeed!
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Books
The Mute Bard's Tale
This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.

This completed book can be placed in your house and read.

NO-TRADE

Quest reward from [56] Quiet But Effective (Access Quests), started by Mute Bard in The Shimmering Citadel.

Discovered on 16 Sep 2005 at 5:49:36 PDT.
"The Mute Bard's Tale" - Whether the tale is truth or myth, this tale relates the Mute Bard's history and how he came to be imprisoned by the djinn.
Continue
Put the book away.
I learned to speak before I learned to walk. Precocious, my parents said. Many days did I spend literally singing for my supper, for our family is among the poorest in Maj'Dul. One day as I traveled to the Crags to seek inspiration, one of the harpies caught me and carried me away to her nest.
Continue
Put the book away.
Her claws dug deeply into my shoulders as we flew, circling higher and higher. Clearly deranged, her chatter rambled from stories of long ago, to Maj'Dul, and to the djinn. She demanded that I sing for her, and fearing for my life, I did so.
Continue
Put the book away.
"Stop!" she cried, transforming there and then into a djinna of great beauty, still gripping my shoulders tightly in her hands. "You must never sing again, you come too close to our Names!" And with that, she brought me to the Shimmering Citadel where the djinn cut out my tongue so I could sing no more.
Continue
Put the book away.
Though I cannot speak, I can still hear -- which is something some of the djinn did not take into account. They fear music, especially ancient, pure music. Though they think they have destroyed and hidden rare instruments of old, the instruments can still be found and repaired. I hid one of the keys in the room beyond the darkest room.
Put the book away.
Books
The Mute Bard's Tale
This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.


Discovered on 9 Aug 2006 at 12:57:16 PDT.
"The Mute Bard's Tale"
Whether the tale is truth or myth, this tale relates the Mute Bard's history and how he came to be imprisoned by the djinn.
I learned to speak before I learned to walk. Precocious, my parents said.

Many days did I spend literally singing for my supper, for our family is among the poorest in Maj'Dul.

One day as I traveled to the Crags to seek inspiration, one of the harpies caught me and carried me away to her nest.
Her claws dug deeply into my shoulders as we flew, circling higher and higher.

Clearly deranged, her chatter rambled from stories of long ago, to Maj'Dul, and to the djinn.

She demanded that I sing for her, and fearing for my life, I did so.
"Stop!" she cried, transforming there and then into a djinna of great beauty, still gripping my shoulders tightly in her hands.

"You must never sing again, you come too close to our Names!"

And with that, she brought me to the Shimmering Citadel where the djinn cut out my tongue so I could sing no more.
Though I cannot speak, I can still hear -- which is something some of the djinn did not take into account.

They fear music, especially ancient, pure music. Though they think they have destroyed and hidden rare instruments of old, the instruments can still be found and repaired.

I hid one of the keys in the room beyond the darkest room.
Books
The Mute Bard's Tale
This item can be placed on the floor in any house type.

Purchased from Indis Surion in Qeynos Capitol District (702, 82, 129) or Navarius Orvalis in The City of Freeport (10, -7, -134) or Abnar the Bookbinder in The Tower of the Moon (-8, 14, 8) or Piritta Silvarri in Greater Faydark (151, 109, 175) or Ricka Stonehide in Frostfang Sea (-115, 149, -90) or Beata Sringer in City of Fordel Midst (735, -9, -744) for 1c.

Discovered on 10 Aug 2006 at 20:06:33 PDT.
"The Mute Bard's Tale"
Whether the tale is truth or myth, this tale relates the Mute Bard's history and how he came to be imprisoned by the djinn.
I learned to speak before I learned to walk. Precocious, my parents said.

Many days did I spend literally singing for my supper, for our family is among the poorest in Maj'Dul.

One day as I traveled to the Crags to seek inspiration, one of the harpies caught me and carried me away to her nest.
Her claws dug deeply into my shoulders as we flew, circling higher and higher.

Clearly deranged, her chatter rambled from stories of long ago, to Maj'Dul, and to the djinn.

She demanded that I sing for her, and fearing for my life, I did so.
"Stop!" she cried, transforming there and then into a djinna of great beauty, still gripping my shoulders tightly in her hands.

"You must never sing again, you come too close to our Names!"

And with that, she brought me to the Shimmering Citadel where the djinn cut out my tongue so I could sing no more.
Though I cannot speak, I can still hear -- which is something some of the djinn did not take into account.

They fear music, especially ancient, pure music. Though they think they have destroyed and hidden rare instruments of old, the instruments can still be found and repaired.

I hid one of the keys in the room beyond the darkest room.