Naydoo Low and the Ubar

[19:26] Ulric Greybeard (runar.hammerthall) peered around once again, judging which direction what he sought might lay in and then with a nod to himself and a grunt, he headed that way, moving off with the same grace and subtle ease of stride that Trees had.

[19:29] Sara (saranya.viatruso) peers down at them from the ledge and brightens slightly, whirling around in a swirld of silk and disappearing from view only to emerge a few moments later, lingering some might say, partially hidden by the stone of the wall. She leans over the fountain's edge and glances down into the water as if searching for something there and then, taking a moment to consider those around, murmurs a polite greeting, loud enough to be heard, but soft enough to be obvious that she meant to not draw attention to herself.

[19:31] Priscus comes down the street and sees a small gathering infront of the central Cylinder and walks slowly twords it and stops before the gathering .

[19:31] Melisande (melisande.moisant) looked down to the "mighty oak" of the Torvaldslander that seemed to be standing there and arched her brow curiously.

[19:32] Melisande (melisande.moisant) raised her hand, "Tal," she said. Of course, she'd have never greeted him had she not been flanked with Ar's best. Torvaldslanders, as everyone knew, were just awful instruments of beserking and unseemliness.

[19:34] Ulric Greybeard (runar.hammerthall) started to set out and saw the lady in fine purple hues and the arched brow she presented toward his. He turned his head and regarded he and that rich shade of purple and then he did a perhaps surprising thing; he lifted his right hand forward and out palm out most towards her and said, although it was in the heavy accent of his homelands "Ave, Ar!"

[19:39] Melisande (melisande.moisant) tried not to jump as he did so, but it DID take her aback. Her hand shot out, lightly grabbing Tiberius's elbow as the man bellowed out. Melisande cleared her throat, raising her own hand yet again, in return, and she chuckled pleasantly, putting her palm against her chest, "Oh, the Priest-Kings! You gave me a start with that bellow, fellow!" Melisande looked at Tiberius and said, "That rhymed. Brilliant. Ave, Ar!" she responded, in return.

[19:40] Priscus He stands at ease he listens to the banter between the Ubara and the Northman.He had met plenty of "Torvies" that had settled in Ar ..And one Mercenary

[19:41] Priscus: that was in the servie to Tyros had beaten him to near death durring the seig out never had he actualy head a "native" speak ."

[19:43] Ulric Greybeard (runar.hammerthall) nods "Well met Lady, dew I'o take et tha' I speak ta the Luminary Ubar of Great Ar of the many pillars and lioghts?" *his tone was gruff, even hard, but not crass and it had strange echoes of education to it*

[19:46] Melisande (melisande.moisant) slightly turned her head as if perhaps her ear being one half a hort closer to him would enable her to discern his accent more clearly. "No, I'm not sure about the dew... erm... are you trading in.... agriculture?" Melisande looked about for help. She whispered, "Do you know the Torvish speech? I am lost here, sir." Never to back down from a challenge, she took a step down from the height of the plaza area and said, "I'm so---rry." very slowly, "I don't... under.... stand.... What.... was... that, sir?"

[19:49] Ulric Greybeard (runar.hammerthall) leaned his head back looking up at the night sky and smiled huge, a deep rumble laugh escaped his lips. He shook his head and looked back forward towards the woman in purple and spoke a touch slower "Well met Lady" *that seemed clear* "Dew I'o" *pointed at himself* speak ta the Luminary Ubara *gestured to her* Of the great City of Ar of the many pillars and lioghts *gestured around at the city, his grin wide now*

[19:50] Sara (saranya.viatruso) nods her head slightly to the swinging cadence of the Torvie drawl, it had always been one of her favorite dialects. With a gentle stretch she leans forward to peek out at him. Settling back on her heels, she reaches over and turns the cushion beside her ever so slightly, aligning it more evenly to the curve of the fountain wall. Tilting her head slightly, overhearing the nearby interrogation, she ducks her head slightly to hide the soft smile, pressing her lips to a thin line.

[19:54] Melisande (melisande.moisant) grined wide herself. In fact, her veil rose just slightly and rode on top of her cheeks that were now puffed out just a little, her eyes crinkling with mirth. "Well, Sir Doo Low, I am very pleased to meet you, and..." she looked over to Primus, "The.... man.... in ..... red....." Melisande then realized it was not Doo Low who had the comprehension problem, but perhaps her own, and she cleared her throat, remembering her normal speech pattern, "The man in red there is the Ubar, yes, sir. " Melisande turned, walking towards him, "My Ubar?" She asked quietly, "You have a visitor, a Sir Doo Low, and while his name sounds a bit Pani-ish, I do believe he could be from the north."

[19:56] Primus (primus.moisant) looks up from the ever-present reports on troops, budgets, equipment and so forth... "Yes, my Ubara. I shall be happy to speak with him. What is his business?" he looks over her shoulder, seeing the man with the large ax he had spotted earlier.

[19:57] Ulric Greybeard (runar.hammerthall) slowly raised a hand and face palmed, took a breath and let it out slowly "Then I'o assume yea are tha Ubara, Lady?" *he looked to the man she went to and spoke with, the same that had nodded to him and at least learned who the Ubar was here. Taking another slow breath he said in careful tones, hoping for comprehension "Nay Lady me name is nay Doo Low"

[19:59] Melisande (melisande.moisant) half turned and said, "Yes, I am the Ubara, Sir." She leaned forward again, "Oh! Naydoo Low. That's... my Ubar, please forgive me. His name is Naydoo Low." She turned and said, "What business do you have, Sir Naydoo?"

[20:00] Primus (primus.moisant) pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a moment to run his fingers over tired eyelids, shaking his head at the difficult commmunication.

[20:00] Sara (saranya.viatruso) ducks her head, reddening as she holds her breath..not going to giggle - no matter how...She flutters her lashes closed for a moment and draws in a very slow breath, anchoring to some very quiet core to keep herself composed. As she opens her eyes again she glances reflexively up at the Jarl, suppressing the urge to be overly helpful.

[20:01] Ulric Greybeard (runar.hammerthall) grimaced and waved a hand paln oout "Lets jus' start ovar, aye? Heilsa! I am Ulric, sonne of Calin, Jarl of Munnin's Vok, of tha Tor'mark Fel" *he mentally crossed his fingers and said a silent prayer to Odin for clarity*

[20:02] Sara (saranya.viatruso) nods her head slightly, drawing her teeth slowly over her bottom lip, she was praying it would be clear as well. No matter how well trained and composed, she wasn't made of stone after all.

[20:03] Primus (primus.moisant) rolls up a scroll, and wedges it between Sara's teeth... "Hold this, slave."

[20:03] Savir (soren.davidov) arched a brow at the man. He said he was all right, soon to be calling a jarl over for some money's...something... to mark where he fell... he never could understand them and stood silently.

[20:03] Melisande (melisande.moisant) could almost feel the fierce winds from the north whip down the Voltai and rustle up her robes to the very petticoats that proclaimed her free status when the burly Torvish man spoke. Melisande could make neither heads or tails of it, and she looked up to the Ubar, hoping he was better at deciphering the language than she. Oh, he was a man that was well seasoned and travel, and surely the Delta Brigade must have come across a few of Odin's Blessed in their days. She smiles and takes a step back towards Tiberius, "Please, don't let me muddle things further."

[20:04] Sara (saranya.viatruso) holds the scroll carefully, her brow furrowing slightly with concentration as she tries to keep the scroll securely without marring it with a bite mark.

[20:04] Priscus he remains silent ..as this was the sort of time that his mentor told him to mindful of and continues to listen

[20:05] Primus (primus.moisant) chuckles quietly and waves the northman forward... "Ulric, son of Calin, come forward. What do you wish of Ar?"

[20:05] Melisande (melisande.moisant) gasped as she turned to Tiberius, "I had no idea Primus spoke Torvish. I am so impressed, as usual." She gave a half-grin beneath her veil, raising her chin in admiration of her companion.

[20:08] Ulric Greybeard (runar.hammerthall) raps his right hand to his chest hard and then held it out palm towards the Ubar and spoke the same possibly surprising words he had to the Ubara "Ave Ar, I great he who is the strength a tha base a tha pillar tha is Ar." *he nodded once and continued* I first would bring yea greetins from the Tor'mark Fel and he who be Jarl of et, Bane Thorstad, and then greetins from my Mothar who was once ambassador ta Glorious Ar from our lands."

[20:11] Primus (primus.moisant) pauses a moment, making out his accent with a bit of concentration, but little difficulty... "Ar returns the greetings of Bane Thorstad, Jarl of the Tor'mark Fel, as well as your lady mother, Ulric Calinson. Welcome to Ar. What happy circumstance brings you so far from your northern climes to visit our fair city?"

[20:13] Ulric Greybeard (runar.hammerthall) his expression became dour and serious "Et be nay happiness tha' guides the wind ta my sails and undar wings a Tarn, but troubled wyrd and twistin fate. I have come ta seek if thar be news of any tha' bears ill blood or grudge agin the Lady Satine Moore, Head Mistress of the House of Mjolnir's Thunder." *his brows knit heavily and he hooked the thumb of his left hand into his heavy and wide belt*

[20:15] Ulric Greybeard (runar.hammerthall): Once of Ar ((sorry lost that part))

[20:17] Primus (primus.moisant) waves forward a couple of nearby scribes, conferring with them in whispers for some moments, then dismisses them with a wave... "Ar does not know the lady you mention, and therefore cannot comment on whether there be any there bear her ill will. We can state with certainty, however, that she is not held in antipathy by the Ubarate, in particular, or the state, in general."

[20:18] Melisande (melisande.moisant) continued to just be amazed at the Ubar's ability to understand the man of Torvaldsland. She thought perhaps she was catching on, and she whispered over to Tiberius, "I think I deciphered that one. This isn't as difficult as it appears."

[20:18] Priscus His ears perk up that the mention of the house and of the lady whome was the head of it admittedly his body language Changes and he stops him self from moving forward but speaks My Ubar if I may I know of this woman he speaks of As my Father held her as ward "

[20:19] Primus (primus.moisant) turns his gaze to the warrior... "Yes, my apprentice? What do you know of this matter?"

[20:20] Sara (saranya.viatruso) drifts her hand up to sweep the stray curls from her cheek as the Scribes swoop in to confer with the Ubar, catching the edge of the scroll with her hand and nearly knocking it out of her mouth. Tapping it gently back into place, she trails her fingertip lightly around the curve of her ear as she secures the dark tresses, following the curve of her neck to trace along the curve of her collar. Resting her hands quietly in her lap again as they withdraw, she crosses her wrists, letting her fingertips drum softly against her skin.

[20:20] Priscus "i know nothing of the matter only of the Woman and the household of which the northman speaks.."

[20:21] Ulric Greybeard (runar.hammerthall) nodded once hard "Takk for yer werds on this Ubar of the mioght tha' is Ar. I as Jarl of Munnin's Vok, return in kiond tha' I, my lione, and Hall bear no ill will or bad blood towards the noble Ubarate of Ar. *considered a moment* I come ta fiond out these facts as the Lady Satine, once of Ar, as was the House a Mjolnir's Thunder, has become specifically ill, in great speed, and in unusual circumstance, an' those of wisdom have spoke tha' poison, perhaps a rare one may have been given ta the Lady in unknown fashion"

[20:22] Priscus " do you Say the lady is ill and is poisoned ?"

[20:22] Ulric Greybeard (runar.hammerthall) nodded once to the man Priscus "aye"

[20:23] Ulric Greybeard (runar.hammerthall): Sew et may be, but the search for truth gews on, till firm fact is known

[20:25] Primus (primus.moisant) 's jaw clenches in displeasure at this revelation... "This is grave news indeed, northman. Rest assured that Ar does not take reports of poisons lightly, and if we learn any news concerning this lady's condition, we will contact the Tor'mark Fel at once."

[20:25] Melisande (melisande.moisant) shook her head, continuing to whisper to Tiberius, "So, the Torvlander woman is dying, and he thinks the person who planned the poisoned attack on her lives here in Ar, that is what I gather."

[20:26] Tiberius Servilius Gemellus (forgotten.eleonara) had been lulled once more into by the spray of the fountain as it danced upon the water and the general easiness in which Ar lived these days. Few these days were foolish enough to attempt ill deeds upon the streets of Ar, though there were still petty intrigues which played out on an daily basis. An intrigue such as this which they spoke of now, and it peeked his interest drawing him back to attention as the Taurentians came and went as the guard was relieved, but still he elected to stay by the side of the Ubarate, such was his loyalty and service to them both. "So I gathered, and ill wind that bodes no good for the Lady." he murmured softly to her.

[20:29] Ulric Greybeard (runar.hammerthall) rapped his fist to his chest again and nodded hard once "Takk, I take yer werds with great heart and know they be truthful spoke. Takk for yer tiome Ubar, et is gewd tha' though we stand on eithar siodes of a great casm we may speak, at least for a tiome, taegethar as men of honor. The Lady Satine shall be my woman soon enuff and I shall not lightly forget the honorable acts a Ar this night ta me hall and woman."

[20:30] Priscus his face grows dark and he frowns "poison...who would poison Her " he mutterd loudly " My Ubara the woman in question was formaly of Ar she was My fathers Ward and served as Scribe to two different administrations of Magisrates ...When my father left to go on his Pilgrimage she left Ar and returned to her home in the north and took the house hold with her that my Father left in her care

[20:31] Melisande (melisande.moisant) whispered back to Tiberius, "Poison. Most likely a Cosian, masquerading as one of Ar. It would not surprise me in the least..." She turned then, looking back at Ulric with a newfound respect for him. One does not travel across the Voltai from the frigid north, all the way down, past the margin of desolation on a mere whim. It was to save her life, and to honor her family. Her brow furrowed, listening. She whispered, "I think he just said, if we're ever up that way, we could stay at his place."

[20:31] Ulric Greybeard (runar.hammerthall) turned himself a touch so that he could see the man Priscus as he spoke. He watched him with serious features.

[20:31] Primus (primus.moisant) nods.. "Should the lady recover, do send word to Ar, Ulric Calinson. We hope she regains her strength quickly, and bears you many strong sons."

[20:32] Melisande (melisande.moisant) took a step down, raising her hand, "Before you go, Sir Ulric, and please do accept my apology on the account of your name...."

[20:32] Melisande (melisande.moisant): Might you stay and consult with our physicians at the University. They may have a buffet of antidotes you could take with you upon your journey back that are not readily available in the north.

[20:33] Ulric Greybeard (runar.hammerthall) nodded gruffly "Aye I will see tha' done" *he looked to the Ubara* "Fear nay a thing Lady, we be but tae people seperated by a common language" *he laughed some and smiled*

[20:34] Ulric Greybeard (runar.hammerthall): Takk Lady, but the poison has already done ets werk if'n et be poison en truth. Now I seek one who I mioght wrap my hands about and squeeze tha liofe from for this honorless act.

[20:36] Melisande (melisande.moisant) nodded to him, "I wish you to find them too, and do exactly that, Sir. I wish you well." Melisande gave a glance to the Ubar then, her brow furrowed, before turning back towards the fountain.

[20:37] Primus (primus.moisant) yawns behind his hand... "It is time to withdraw for the evening, my Ubara."

[20:38] Ulric Greybeard (runar.hammerthall): I wish yea well alsew Lady *he lifted a hand to the Ubara*

[20:38] Tiberius Servilius Gemellus (forgotten.eleonara) sighed, he long knew his Ubara's hatred of all things which could be considered Cosian, and many a wrong had been laid at the door of Cos for the mere sake of saying that they were deviants and rascals of the highest order. "I could not imagine a less inviting place to visit than the frigid northern wastes, but I supposed that should ever we find ourselves in such dire straights that we must set out for the far north perhaps it would something of a novelty to visit the long hall." he muttered under his breath, cursing the woman as she stepped closer to the unseemly mountain of a man, "Priest King's neither regions she's going to get me killed one day." he hissed to himself as he too took a step forward, shadowing the purple robes of the woman, hoping beyond hope that something did not spook the Torvie into berserker rage.

The Legatus

(OOC note: Sarus stepped down from his role as Legatus last night, but OOC he will still remain an important member of our OOC council and will continue to play in Ar. Who knows what the future will bring!)

Marcus Flavius Sarus strides into the central cylinder with a sheathed and tied sword held in display position at his left shoulder. He stops a regulation five paces from the Ubarate, claps his right hand to his chest, and salutes sharply, "Hail Ubar!"

Savir flicked his gaze over Sarus, it had been awhile since he had seen the man, doubtlessly kept busy with the war, he tipped his head to the man, after he last remembered a paga fueled night at the tavern.

Primus holds up a hand, waiting for the constant buzz of the busy court to fall to silence... "Ar recognizes Marcus Flavius Sarus, Legatus of the Imperial Legions. Hail Legatus!" he returns his salute and motions him closer.

Uriel Ashbourne gave a respectful nod to Sarus in his passing, "Greetings, Legatus."

Melisande (melisande.moisant) arched her brow and then waved her off, "Silence, slave. The Legatus is here... We will speak later on the matter..." Melisande remained quiet as the two men greeted one another. She gently used the chair for support as her arm went down, and took another sip from her other hand as she eyed the leader of the legion. It was the first time she had seen him since the return of the men from Tentium.

Marcus Flavius Sarus (sarus.rau) takes two steps forward and extends the sword forward, holding it between outstretched hands. It is a simple but finely made weapon, conforming to the standards of a Legion-issue gladius. The hilt is wrapped with fine sharkskin cording and the rivets and metal reinforcements running up the length of the scabbard bear the distinctive sheen of pattern welding. The many scores and small cuts on the wooden part of the scabbard make it obvious that this is no display piece, but a weapon of war, an officer's sword. Sarus proclaims proudly, "Legatus Flavius Sarus presents the campaign sword of Tyros. This sword was forged on the day war was declared on Tyros and carried by the battle commander who led the assault on their land. The scabbard was wrought from wood taken from a tur tree growing within Tentium's central square. At war's end, I retire it to the archives, to join its brethren there, as a symbol that Ar has conquered." His nose flares almost imperceptibly at the last phrase. It was a ceremonial saying, part of Legion custom, but it left a sour taste in the old warrior's mouth.

Tiberius Servilius Gemellus (forgotten.eleonara) cut short a chuckle which escaped him, his gaze lingered for a moment as the girl's fingers kneaded his calf. His bored gaze seemed to linger upon the Legatus, a man he had not seen in these many days since his return from the disastrous assault upon the Isles of Tyros. A dark brow seemed to shoot upwards as he noted the man's speech though he did little but watch the proceedings.

Primus (primus.moisant) recognizes the blade that rode the Legatus's hip and drew enemy blood through the many battles of the recent war and formally acknowledges it "Let the steel find its rest." The short ceremonial phrase which enters it into the archives. Not all leaders choose to retire their swords at the end of a campaign. In fact, many choose to carry the same blade throughout much of their career. The fact that the Legatus was retiring this one now seemed to be full of portent.

Savir (soren.davidov) watched ceremony take place before him, and found it to be of interest. He had never observed this particular ritual before and it was foriegn to him. He often did not follow the codes of the red caste, but tried to at least understand them, for in his business knowledge was everything. He had heard news on the war and wondered if tyros had performed a simliar ceremony among its leaders.

Marcus Flavius Sarus (sarus.rau) reaches up to his left shoulder and undoes the ties there, letting the row of phalerae and rank insignia droop over his chest. He pressed his lips together and took a deep breath as he composes his next words. With a tug at the stays on his right shoulder, Sarus whirls the cloak from about his shoulders draping it over his right arm. The motion was odd - even a novice fighter knew that soft cover, such as cloaks, are best kept at one's left arm where they didn't interfere with the draw of a sword and could intercept the killing stabs delivered to the heart and kidneys. Two more ties came loose and Sarus collected the row of brightly colored strands that were his rank insignia in his left hand. Finally, the words left him, "When last I spoke in this court, I promised that I would return with victory in hand. Every strategist faces defeat, every warrior faces peril, but it is the foolish who would proclaim themselves above it. I take responsibility for the deaths under my command and for the shame that defeat has brought. Ubar, accept my resignation from the Imperial Legion, that I may no longer endanger the lives under my command, nor tarnish the honor of Ar."

Abandoned fingers slowly danced up over her Masters leg, she wiggled about so that her thighs were on each side of his foot. Adding her other hand she rubbed his thick muscular lower thigh, the tender pads of her fingers running over the hair roughened skin. As the men spoke of Tyros a frown slipped over her lips and the fingers massaging stilled, her nails biting into her Masters flesh.

Melisande felt her stomach drop at the words of the Legatus, though she had heard whispers from her spies that some suspected he might lay down his mantle because of the defeat. Of course, they were always the same murmurings no matter what had happened. That when Kasra was taken, Sarus would claim Ubar. And when the city walls were breached, Sarus would fall on his sword. And when the Ring of Galahad was discovered, Sarus would ascend to the throne, and when Tentium rose up against Ar and defeated her in the last battle, he would resign. But even so, she never gave much of these whisperings credence until she saw the look in his eye as he took off the cloak. Melisande lifted her chin at the honor of the words being spoken, and she gestured towards Savir, "You may stand in honor, or you may leave us."

Savir tipped his head to the lady, he had always respected Sarus in his dealings with him, only choosing to sit at the Ubara's inital command. "It is no secret, that there is no love lost between those of the red caste and my own" he told them. "I find Sarus to be honorable and will stand and honor him among you, should he find my presence to be acceptable" he waved his hand towards Sarus. "I do not wish to enflame, or irritate, but I come with my own reasons here, and humbly honor those that stand for Ar, as I have even partaken in one of the battles of the war" he noted. "If all the red caste were as honorable as Sarus, I would fear and honor them more than I do" he admitted honestly.

Tiberius Servilius Gemellus's leg flinched as the girl's nails bit into his skin, it caught him off guard that she should react in such a manner. Instantly it roused his ire, so intently had his attention been centered upon the little drama presented before them, that the momentary reprieve from the scene instantly made his eyes flash with annoyance. Kicking the girl, shaking her off of his calf his lips turned downwards into a grimace though for what purpose it was uncertain.

Sara froze, with effort not allowing her gaze to drift to him. She had only once been nearer to the man than rumors, having once watched over him while he slept in the clinic of the House of Bernard. She knew him to be a man of courage and honor, but also of uncommon compassion - with more concern for his men than for himself - it was all he had spoken of. She lifted her chin slightly, perfecting her form, a slave's poor way of honoring excellence with mirrored excellence as she waited - hoping there would be some change of heart and mind.

Primus pauses, thinking things through, considering all the foreseeable implications of this sudden move, those military as well as political. "Sarus of Ar, while it is certainly true that you are responsible for the blood of the men of Ar, there is no dishonor in an honest defeat. War is an unpredictable art, with its glories as well as its setbacks, as you well know. Ar does not consider you a tarnish upon her honor. " he pauses again, considering further... "That said, however, you did make a promise, a solemn oath, and you have ever been known as a man of your word. As you have failed to deliver upon that word, freely given, I accept your resignation and release you from the office of Legatus. You may serve as Emeritus until a suitable post is found for you."

Storms Brewing

I was going to write a post centered around the theme of spring, now that I've had time to actually slow down from crazy real life and get back to blogging. But, as I threw up the photo of the sweet, blooming bud, I could just hear the groans from the testosterone section of our community. So, I decided upon this other picture to represent this time of the year, especially since it represents the weather many of us have been having anyway. From New Zealand to Missouri, Japan to Mississippi, it hasn't been pretty. For those of you in Ar who have been affected powerfully by the dangerous weather this season, we're thinking about you.

Both the bloom and the storm, from a gazer's perspective, are completely different... they both represent the same thing – change. And we're going to be seeing a fair bit of that in Ar as our build finally finishes (May 1, cross your fingers, all our sims will be complete and ready for RP!) our RP stories are going to ratchet up.

The overreaching themes in Ar right now are these, to catch everyone up:

1. Ar and Tyros declared a stalemate to their war. After the defeat in Tentium, a delegation bargained for the release of our red caste prisoners (including the Ubar) in exchange for our agreement to pull out of their town we occupied – Kasra – and give them a 200-pasang berth when passing through Thassa. And, of course, we agreed upon a stalemate. The last defeat has shaken our red caste, leaving it in a state of rebuilding and perhaps some dramatic changes to come soon. While Ar did not reach its mighty arm as far as it had intended, fresh, patriotic blood come of age and lift their swords in loyalty to the Ubar and to Ar, and vow vengeance on their fallen older brethren.
2. The Navonna Terrace, the Hotel Serviti, our auspicious gathering place and bustling notable business, is in a state of litigation as the owner, Giada Koba, fell to slavery at the hands of Ice Bradley. Several interested parties are vying for this property, knowing it is a key to trade, politics, and commerce on the Viktel Aria.
3. The assassins have been gathering, though no one knows their numbers. A new Master Assassin in Ar is casting his shadow seemingly everywhere as their vague activities are whispered about from taverns to the central cylinder. Though the Ubarate denies affiliation with any assassins, the Master Assassin himself has said to have entered the central cylinder several times recently, bearing the mark. It is even rumored that the black caste have been hired to help the new, determined head of the scribes on his inquisitions into lawbreakers and foreswearers in our glorious city.
4. As the margin of desolation continues to house patches of oasis-like vales, brave raiding parties have made it closer and closer to the gates. A new outpost is scheduled to open right outside the gates of Ar in the Fields of Elysium to keep their keen eyes open for these foolhardy rarii, outlaws, gypsies, and raiders. A few buildings will be erected to keep captives there to potentially sell to brave slavers who will venture out to the new danger that awaits in the uncertainty of the Fields of Elysium.
5. The head of the blue caste, now with a new zeal of the righteousness inscribed on his own flesh, now takes up the task to hunt those who would break the laws of Ar. Judge and jury in one single man, how far will he go? Some free women seem to run away when they see him approaching, holding their robes tight, and others scoff at him. Many of them speak highly of him, revering him throughout the plazas as a man of moral fiber whose firm hand has long been needed in Ar.
6. The University of Ar has been swept free of Cosian infiltration, and it reopens its doors to every city-state in Gor as the gathering place for the brightest minds. A forum for debates, the largest library by far in Gor, and over a quarter of a sim dedicated to education. Our physicians, scribes, scholars, builders, engineers, and artisans will teach here.
7. A strange disappearance of the gladiator champion Desimus, but in his place, emerges men of great talent, prisoners taken from all over Gor, housed at Ludus Cerise. They continue to fight for glory in our arenas as other cities come to compete in Ar. A new, specialized breeding outfit has also been rumored to be attracting notable business near the Ludus Cerise as well.
8. Whispers of dissent from many in the city, speaking of the Ubar's “unnecessary” wars, insinuating that the Ubar spends his days in luxury in the central cylinder surrounded by the most exotic and beautiful slaves rather than tending to city business and rebuilding the caste. Rumors of coups and desires for an administration are surfacing. The Ubarate, of course, with their network of spies, hear such rumors constantly, and as the whipping of the head scribe occurs, a glimmer of a darker, more tyrannical Ubarate begins to emerge as dissenters and traitors begin to be ferreted out.... for their own good, of course.

These stories and many, many more as we hope you join us heading into summer. If you're interested in being involved in any of these storylines or if you have your own to share for the blog, please let me know, or make a post on the forums. It's going to be a very, very interesting summer of roleplay.

The Colossal Gladiator

Tonight, the stadium was filled with the cheers and surprises of the crowd of Ar as gladiators fought for glory, title, fame, and freedom.

A huge upset as Volusian, the newest gladiator, bested the Primus Palus, Arco, the mute gladiator.

Aquilla was then pitted against the veteran, Priscus.

Priscus, the most experienced of the Ludus Cerise, retired, receiving his rudius and his freedom tonight at the hands of the Ubar. Here are some pictures of his last fight.

The champion of the night was Desimus, who bested the champions from the other rounds to achieve the title Colossal Gladiator.