Astaroth

Well I suppose Crows do pick at dead bodies for survival, but it just doesn't seem to match the feel of the game. I can't imagine an epic battle concluding with tea baggings and heart eating.

Woah. I disappear for a month or two and it seems like this community has been ravaged by a plague. I was excited for Crowfall because everyone seemed so awesome to each other; even the bickering I've had was on target and respectable... When did this all become so catty? I was really excited about my return but now I am second guessing.

My friends leave or a new awesome game comes out. I have horrible game ADD if I am not totally obsessed with the game I'm currently playing. So if an MMO fun all the time I don't last too long

This is pretty excellent. I can image we will start to see some pretty impressive cities. I would enjoy having myself a well-known hub. A bit worried about the pay model for the land though... Seems like day one someone well-off could simply purchase a massive kingdom and outfit it in 30 minutes. *shrug

((OOC: Ah, didn't realize jars were a medium thing, figured each ration was 1 space, oops.)) Sighing at his overconfidence in his pack, Orin began sewing the tear up. When he was finished, he sadly placed several jars back on the counter; this time only opting to take two lest the bag rip again under the strain of more. He knew he would have to find another food source because of this, but also knew that if he couldn't carry any food at all he would be a goner. With the pack sewed he once more began his trek to Breeon. (Black 8 if you need a card for the sewing)

Yea this is an interesting point... Though I recall Old School Runescape having a barter system and it worked great. I also believe that players will make a currency, official or not. Say there is an item that stacks and has very little weight... Pebbles or something... Well now pebbles become the currency, and players had a direct hand in that economic evolution. Let's say players decide naturally that a stack of wood is 10 pebbles, well now you can begin to scale that. A stack of wood is traded for 10 pebbles Two iron bars are traded for 40 Pebbles The cost of a sword now becomes 60 pe

Yea the password strobing is kind of annoying. Missed a huge opportunity to say "CROW"lestoral.

((OOC: Backpack Space = 8 - 3 Rations from Ammo Trade - 5 Rations purchased right now = 0 Left exactly)) "Ay, should be able to cram it all in there," Orin said happily, his mouth salivating and his eyes wide like a child in a confectionery. "But ah, I see... Strange ta think deeds are bein' passed abou' willy nilly. The Hunger has changed so much though... Glad to hear your family is through. I myself am headed through soon as well, though I wanted to craft some last trinkets and weapons to bring back to the Eternal Kingdoms... Can't find a damn forge though after me last one was... Well th

Orin tried as hard as he could to push the curiosity of the letter's contents out of his mind. Salivating at the dried goods, he said happily, "I will get five jars, my good sir!" As the butcher moved to fetch the jars, Orin's curiosity got the better of him. "Wha', er.... Wha' was in that letter o' yours if ye don't mind me askin'?" (Red 4 if persuasion is needed)

YES. All I really want is for someone to say "Oh... You have an [Astaroth] made sword? Damn those are rare and awesome..." How cool would that be??

"Ho there!" Orin shouted, speaking more to the hanging, healthy meats than the butcher himself. His stomach was absolutely churning at this point, and his mouth was frothing like a dog affected by The Hunger. He walked out of the cold and into the barn where the thwacking noise was originating from. In front of him stood a burly man like Orin himself, his smock speckled in crimson blood and his brow coated in sweat. He was so lost in the hacking that he initially didn't even notice Orin... "A fine craft you 'ave here, my stomach approves!" Orin grinned. The war-tune stopped and the butcher

((OOC: We aren't supposed to speak for NPC right?))

Orin's stomach grumbled in protest as the city grew further and further away. He wasn't terribly familiar with the roadways but he assumed that if he kept walking he would eventually find a smaller town or settlement that might offer him a rest and some supplies for his journey. A cold blast of air hit him broadside, and he shouldered his cloak and groaned. "I shoulda just sat me arse down in that tavern... Oi..." He said to himself. Yea but look where the ale has gotten you thus far you sorry sod... "Alright, alright shut it. I'm walkin' aren't I?" Step by step Odin made his way g

Holy sheemo that is a gorgeous gif.

(OOC: Sorry, had a ton of work!!! Back now though!) Orin stood at the door of the pub and found himself at a crossroads... He could sit and drink... Like always... Or he could take control of his destiny, and walk all the way to Breeon. A cold brew sounded incredibly enticing... and his feet did ache but... No! He was going to do it. It was time to get back at the anvil like the old days, and to restart his fantastic craft... Though this would mean apprenticing under some low life.... Ah! Enough! He turned quickly on his heels and headed to the gates of the city. He would depart immediatel