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Having trouble finding your way round? Look out for signs. Check out HELP MEADOW, HELP MAP, HELP MIDGAARD MAP. Also visit Tilly in Stonehall to buy maps of the surrounding areas and visit Chuckie in his shop which is east of Aelmon for maps of areas around Midgaard city. - Riviat

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Ent edition

Articles | Archives | Gazette | 2008 Gazettes | Ent edition

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THE HISTORY OF ENTS April 2008

%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%**%*%*%**%

IN THIS ISSUE April 2008

.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WORDS FROM THE EDITOR CERDWYN

TREES JOYCE KILMER

ENT BEGINNINGS SKORN

THE MORNING OF MY LIFE SHADOWTOP

AN ENTISH HAIKU SHADOWTOP

A LESSON IN LIFE AN ANONYMOUS ENT

THE NATURE OF ENTS SHADOWTOP

THE LEGEND OF THE DAMNATION SKORN

PARTING WORDS CERDWYN
.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FROM THE EDITOR by CERDWYN

Many moons ago, Snikt said he wanted stories on the various

races that populate AVATAR. He wanted stories that could be

derived from the areas we run in as well as the stories of

those that we play. He wanted stories that could be verified

and those that were racial legend.

From that the Racial History Project was born. Skorn agreed

to research some of the in game bits about a few races to

get us started. You will see a part of that here.

We expanded on what Snikt wanted and we asked for recipes,

travel tales, area reviews, etc. Anything to do with the

race(s) currEntly being worked on.

Only a single Ent took up the task of writing about this

long lived race. So all quest points and prizes for this

issue will go to Shadowtop. When you see him, thank him

for his time, and as he’s an Ent, he has a lot of it. *grin*
.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TREES by JOYCE KILMER

No, not an Avatarian Poem, but a famous one, nonetheless.

And a fitting way to start an issue about living trees...

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the sweet Earth’s flowing breast

A tree that looks at God all day

And lifts her leafy arms to pray

A tree that may in summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair

Upon whose bosom snow has lain

Who intimately lives with rain

Poems are made by fools like me

But only God can make a tree.
.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ENT BEGINNINGS by SKORN

Beams of light, scattered through the verdant forests of Midgaardia,

illuminate the lush foliage and multitude of species which move

across the Realm. Laughing in the sun and frolicking amidst the

countless streams and rivers that flow across the Plane, these

are the Light Fae. Their fates are ever intertwined with the

creatures of Midgaardia. Even in their hatred of all things mortal,

the Fae have wrought much upon our Realm. Alas, this is further

in the future than we shall touch upon, for our story begins in

the first days of our Realm. This is the time of Legends and Myths,

a time for tales to be birthed, a time when all that is was begun.

Kisestre the Young wandered through the lands of her prison,

bringing light, love and happiness everywhere her gaze would

land. Thus were born into our Realm the mindless animals. Those

who are to this day hunted for meat and pelts, with no thought

to the future, or the past. In her wanderings, many were the glades

where she rested and looked upon her creation with satisfaction

and delight, her thoughts ever moving away from the horrible past

which brought her to this end.

Kisestre's ever present companions, the Fae of the Light and Dark,

kept a constant vigil over her actions. Following their mistress

amongst the trees and brush of a new world, frolicking in the

streams and taking their pleasures in a idyllic paradise. In those

times, when she known as the Young would take her rest, the Fae

built altars and crafted idols in her image, forever fashioning

new and wondrous things for their Goddess to find joy in. The

enormous magics expended in these ventures caused many, many side

effects, and some of these were the most wondrous of all. For in

their delight and glee, the magics of the Fae had earthed itself

within the very trunks of the trees they passed through.

Slowly, the trees gained a small portion of intelligence. Decades

passed as the first of those who were to be known as the Ents

reached out and touched the minds of his kin. Each of them a

different race, each of them with varying degrees of intellect,

yet all brought together under one banner for the first time in

their centuries-long existence. As Kisestre and her consorts, the

Fae, frolicked across the land that is now known as Midgaardia,

their powers gave rise to more and more of these new creatures. In

their careless abandon, the Fae had caused to be born the first of

many new intelligent beings in the Realm.

At first, the Ents were clustered in small clans. Beech and Oak

joined together to shelter the kindly Yew. Their powers were limited,

their numbers even more so and the mobility they know now was a thing

not yet learned. Slow thoughts, vast as an ocean, burned within their

newly created consciousness. They began to stretch their minds out in

a web of ever-increasing diameter, drawing more and more of their

brethren into a mass consciousness of their own creation. Never

would they be alone. Never would their lack of numbers mean a

lack of comfort. Never would the Ents stand by themselves, forever

joined together by their nature.

These large evolutions of their race took centuries and encompassed

most of their time, leaving them little attention to spare for their

surroundings. As their minds expanded, so did the Ents withdraw from

the world to the Realm of their own private musings and the musings

of their kin, even half a world away. Lost to themselves, the Ents

did not observe the obsessions of the Fae, the beginnings of their

downfall, and the loss which would soon mar the world forever.

Kisestre the Young, she who gave birth to our world, she who was

first to stride upon its surface, died. Lost and lonely, bereft of

her Fae companions, she who was mother to Midgaardia died of a

violent heartache at the loss of the Fae. As she lay dying within

a forgotten glade, surrounded by the leavings of the Fae, Kisestre

breathed slower and slower, placing more of herself within each

breath. The life of a Goddess, full of vitality and vigor, forced

from her parted lips in a last attempt to leave a portion of herself

within the world. A vain hope to not be forgotten when the final ages

of Midgaardia come to pass.

These last breaths of Kisestre spread forth into the glade wherein

she lay, a glade located deep within the boundaries of that which is

known as the Wildwood today. Embued with the spirit of the Goddess,

her life wrapped around the trunks of the Ents dwelling therein and

was absorbed. New-found strength flowed within their trunks and limbs.

Sap ran like quicksilver and their thoughts took on an almost panicked

sense of urgency as these changed Ents fought to control their new

powers. Driven beyond the edge of reason, one of their number wrenched

himself from the ground in a last ditch attempt to flee from the

changes being forced upon him.

A silence fell upon the clearing, each of the Ents forming organs

for sight and hearing upon their trunks in pure imitation of the Fae.

They gazed in wonder at he who had uprooted himself and now stood

reveling in his newfound freedom at the center of the sacred glade.

Drawing their strength, pooling their minds, offering each other

comfort in this most frightening of times, the Ents uprooted

themselves one after another and joined the Fae upon Midgaardia as

the second truly intelligent race to populate our Realm.

Going throughout the world at their ponderous pace, for while they

are mobile the gentle Ents are forever limited to move at the pace

of their own thoughts, these enormous trees found each of their race

and gave them a small portion of the power of Kisestre. This

rationing of the power brought their race to a viable number,

for even though their lives are measured in centuries and perhaps

millenia, the Ents produce very very few true children, almost all

of their brood remain slightly intelligent versions of common trees.

In the end, after the hellish fury unleashed by Bahamut and

Tiamat's kin, the vile acts of terror brought forth by Straul's

giant minions and even after the violent upheavals caused by the

plant-demon Glasya, the Ents remain a solid fixture upon the ever-

changing realm of Midgaardia. Tending their glades, raising what

few children remain to their decimated numbers and providing the

wisdom of the ages to all who ask it of them.
.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE MORNING OF MY LIFE by SHADOWTOP

RecumbEnt in somnolEnt caliginosity,
Pursuing an evEntual fiberosity,
Emerging from loam sans velocity,
The achene initially germinates.

An unfolding of the interior,
Bound for an unknown exterior,
Birth of a vegetable superior,
The seedling ever fulminates.

Prosperity results in expansion,
Girth represEnts evolution,
Stature is caused by maturation,
The sapling at last evEntuates.

Enlivened with majestic sEntience,
Awakening in infinite patience,
Quickening the mind's cognizance,
The Ent, in life, celebrates.
.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AN ENTISH HAIKU by SHADOWTOP

Slow growth brings deep thought,
Summer minds,
Unfathomable.
.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A LESSON IN LIFE by AN ANONYMOUS ENT

If there is one lesson to be learned in life, it is to never

mess with the dark powers that dwell in this realm. Life ...

hah ... I'm not sure if I can call this ... situation I'm in

right now life.

Once I walked the realm, with long powerful strides.

Once I towered over many of the other races.

I provided shelter for those that needed it.

I provided the muscle when my friends were in need of it.

For the longest time, I walked the realm, slowly learning about

the world and about life itself.

Yes, my progress was slow, but every day I gained more life

experience. I saw many creatures pass me by, but I also saw them

fall while I stood tall.

But with all this knowledge I gathered, I also became foolish.

The notion rose in my mind, that there had to be more than this.

My kind is not an outgoing race. We prefer hiding ourselves.

I started believing that I was destined for more. After studying

some ancient tomes I knew my calling, but I wasn't ready just

yet.

I gathered more knowledge and more power.

Even though I became estranged from my companions and kind, I

persevered. Until one day, I was ready for what I considered

the ultimate challenge.

With purpose I walked to the ancient temple, calling out and

challenging the dark ruler. He appeared. I readied myself for

the battle, but I had overestimated my powers. With a mocking

smile on his face he raised his sword, and dark fire erupted

from the blade.

It wasn't long before I lay defeated, my limbs smoldering. My

hopes and dreams vanquished.

But he wasn't done with me.

The sardonic smile never left his face as he stood over me,

saying I would serve as an example for all those that lived

long but learned nothing. He cast a powerful transmogrifying

spell and dumped me where I am now.

Once a powerful Ent ... looking out over the realm I walked.

Now ... nothing but a thorny shrub in a small valley. Still

sentient but unable to move, unable to ward off the dogs that

walk here.

Again ... if there's one lesson to be learned in life, it is to

never mess with the dark pow....

Oooh no ... there's that dog again
.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE NATURE OF ENTS by SHADOWTOP

Once there was an Ent, and he was asked a question by a passing

human. "How do Ents see the other races," she enquired curiously.

The Ent thought about this for some time and knew that such a

question was a deep one, and a thoughtful response would be good,

but one in which he conferred with other Ents would be even better.

Still, he knew that most other races did not have the same level of

patience, and so he decided to come out with a quick answer.

Unfortunately, the human had already grown weary of waiting for

an answer, had wandered off for a meal at a nearby inn, happened

to meet another attractive human with a sense of humour, an

agreeable personality and a sense of hygiene, had fallen in love,

got married and settled down to start a family. The Ent's answer

of "It's difficult to say really..." was never heard by that human.

However, a passing halfling happened to remark aloud to himself

that he wondered which way Midgaard was from here just before the

Ent finally gave his answer to the human's question. Thus came about

the fallacy that Ents have a poor sense of direction. In fact, Ents

with their roots in the soil always know where they are very well

and under most circumstances have an excellent internal map, being

most sensitive to the air and sun, as well the earth. The best way

to confuse an Ent is have them fly over water, in the dark. Obviously

this does happen very often. For one thing, it tends to alarm the

fish.

This kind of thing is exactly the reason why Ents are seen as being

so slow by most other races. This is in fact untrue and a fallacy

of the first degree. Ents can move very quickly indeed when they

wish to. In emergencies an Ent can move just as fast as any other

race, and once they have set their mind to a certain course of action

can achieve it with great alacrity. What is perfectly true is that

Ents are neither dexterous nor nimble, and their lumbering gait is

quite tiring and thus they cannot sustain dashing around here and

there, willy-nilly, for an extended period of time and far prefer

to conserve their energies for when they most needed. Simply put,

Ents can be speedy, but in general they choose not to be.

Ents are of course deeply thoughtful and often like to think a course

of action through most carefully, considering it from many angles

before deciding on the best approach. One of the reasons for this

is of course that charging around randomly makes an Ent tired. It

does not take much of that before they feel like standing still for

a good long time. An Ent who is tired is an Ent who is tired for a

long time. Ents do not recover from physical or mental stresses at

all quickly. It has been said that an Ent's favourite pastime is

sleeping. While this is not necessarily strictly correct, Ents can

often be found asleep or taking their ease as they recover from some

carefully thought out strategy. Ents are not lazy... they just need

a lot of rest.

All this time spent in physical rest often means the Ent has a

great deal of time to think about things, to mull them over in

their mind and weigh up pros and cons. Advancement for an Ent is

a very lengthy procedure and one which requires a great deal of

thought and concentration if it is not going to take quite literally

forever. It is not unusual for an Ent to take a very long-term view

of things as they see that taking the time arriving at where they

want to be in a proper manner, will in fact save them a great deal

more time than rushing around. Ents often seek to get the best they

can out of any given situation, rather than wasting potential in a

rush for new experiences - mostly because for them those experiences

are long distant in any case. They seek to explore new lands to their

fullest, understand new secrets very well, and to get the best out of

their tools mortally possible... even when this requires lengthy

research, time spent doing very little other than exploding items

with magic, or staring very hard at their surroundings. This time

spent usually serves them well though and their depth of knowledge

and experience is formidable - frequently much more so than those of

equivalent power of other races.

So, apart from a certain predilection towards deliberate thought,

caution and forethought, what is an Entish personality like? Quite

simply, the answer varies. Some Ents are garrulous and talkative,

sociable and outgoing. Others may be quiet and introverted

concentrating on their own slow thoughts to the exclusion of outside

distraction. Then of course, Ents like all other races, have their

moods and their feelings which can change and colour the

personalities. They vary.

Which brings to mind the eventual conclusion our first Ent came up

with after great consideration and much debate and talk with his

fellow Ents. The following was related to the grand-daughter of the

original human who had asked the question we encountered at the advent

of this discussion. "Ents as a whole are a species possessing of many

different and diverse members, who not only may be quite different

in superficial physical appearance, are also at variance in mental

outlook and expression of opinion and personal beliefs. As such, to

give an answer which would encompass all Ents everywhere would be

erroneous and inaccurate in the extreme, furthering stereotypes

which may or may not be helpful, or even harmful. While it is true

that many Ents have a fondness for longer lived races, or those who

also possess a more deliberate thought process like themselves, this

is not always the case. Even the image that Ents automatically like

other races which tend toward a sylvan nature is not strictly true.

Many Ents will give shelter to darker races, while some despise them.

Many Ents like dragons and firedragons as they can often appreciate

an Entish viewpoint best, but some do not like them at all for their

fiery ways. In the end, the question of what Ents as a group think

about other races in a general and non-specific way, is pointless

and cannot be answered. What a particular Ent thinks about something

is something much more easily answered, at least by the Ent in

question, or even what the Ent race tend to think of a particular closely defined situation, is in fact a much better question."

It is not recorded what the said grand-daughter replied to this

Ent who had managed to track her down, or what she thought on the

matter, or even for that matter if she understood what he was

talking about at all...
.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

LEGEND OF THE DAMNATION by SKORN

Herein lies the tale of a great evil once birthed upon the world

of Midgaardia by the foolish. The great Damnation, he who strove to

unseat the powers of his time in a violent fury of magic and might.

The might of the elves in Avalon, the power of the Dwarves in their

canyons of the Divide, the fecund humans and their massive armies.

None could stand before this demonic fiend for long. But I digress,

for the tale shall now be told in its full. Unexpurgated and

unabridged. All shall know the truth behind the Damnation and his

sudden rise to power and lordship.

The tale begins in the legendary city of Keresh, the first city of

the populous humanity who ruled over Midgaardia. The second Giant-Ent

war had ravaged the countryside around Keresh, yet all within stood

firm against the might of the plant-demon Glasya. As the forces of

Straul advanced upon the city of humans, a cabal of its most powerful

protectors came together to formulate their own plans for the defense

of the city.

Ironspike the Just, one of the many leaders of the human forces

within the city was their leader. His many battles against the

Troglodytes and other inhabitants of what would become Igecsoz were

the stuff of legend. The sons of Keresh were raised on tales of his

valor and bravery, all of them wishing to be the one to take over his

post someday.

The great priest of Acilese, Shai'Koras. His name spoken in

reverence across the breadth of Midgaardia, even among those of

the Elvenkind and Dwarves. A master of the healing arts and teacher

to all who would learn, his compassion and generosity were a beacon

of purity in this time of darkness.

And finally, she who was known as the Visionary, Miskaton Al'terian.

Her sorcerous might and prophetic dreams gave her control over much

of the city of Keresh and its denizens. Born the daughter of a

cobbler and a laundress, Miskaton pulled herself up through the

sodden morass of Keresh's lower class and claimed her place at the

forefront of the leaders of Keresh.

These three masters of their various arts formed a triumvirate to

act in coordination against the powers of Glasya and Straul. The

chaotic and unclean sorceries of Miskaton entwining within the

purity and faith of Shai'Koras. Both of them balanced upon the

broad shoulders of the Captain, Ironspike. Thus did they hope to

summon forth from the bones of Midgaardia a true domination, a true

power. One they could channel to their own ends. One which could

destroy the armies invading Keresh.

In the weeks of guerilla war and ambushing along the borders of

Keresh, Miskaton delved deep within the old lore of the Fae, those

few tomes which had survived the eons past. Herein he found a

ritual that would call forth the inherent evil within the

participants, shape it into a sustainable form and then meld it

into a sacrificial vessel so that it could be properly tamed and

used.

Declaring their intentions before a meeting of the Kereshian Defense

Council, just days before the full invasion was to take place, this

trinity of her most beloved protectors was shouted down. The citizens

of lost Keresh were shocked and disgusted that any of their number

could use these dark powers when all around them the rewards of such

behavior were abundant.

Miskaton claiming to have seen visions of the fall of Keresh, its

streets awash in the crimson flow of her denizens, the forces of

Glasya running amok within the hallowed confines of its beloved Arena,

called for the full support of the Council and was denied.

Ironspike, defying the orders of his superiors, called for any

volunteers to assist he and his triumvirate with their mad plans. He

also was denied, the members of Council looking upon him with sadness

and pity.

Shai'Koras, he of the kind word and healing hand, thundered forth

a proclamation of self-righteous anger and preached his own call to

holy war upon the dais within the Council chambers. Sadly, he too

was forsaken. His ringing pronouncement still echoing in the Halls

of Council, the members shook their heads and left him to his own

devices.

Rejected by the Council, spurned by those few citizens who would

even speak with them, this power hungry trio left their home unwatched

and unknown in the middle of the night, three days before the invasion

was to take place. Ironspike led them to a small smuggler's cave in

the heart of the wilderness north of Keresh and here they began their

preparations.

The ritual, long lost to time's touch, was complex and full of

sacrifices, both of mind, body and soul. Evil fumes, violent bursts

of color and hideous chanting could be heard echoing from the small

cave wherein they crafted their magic. The righteous shouts of

Miskaton weaving together with the sibilant hiss of Shai'Koras'

delicate voice. Both of them surrounding the toneless bass of

Ironspike in a cloak of sorcery and sanctification.

Hours before the invasion was to take place, their voices now

resembling nothing more than the croak of an elderly frog, a hush

fell over the woods for miles around this power mad triumvirate.

Animals quivered within their dens, those few citizens who now

finally fled the city to safer confines to the north looking around

themselves in sudden fear, a dark shadow crossed slowly over the

dense forest north of the city.

Spears of lightning exploded in a shower of fury, striking the earth

in a circle around the small cave wherein the ritual members spoke

their parts. Screams from a thousand damned souls filled the air

surrounding Keresh, forcing its defenders to cover their ears in pain.

The sound rolled on and on for what seemed an eternity even as the

abbots and priestesses of the orders sounded their protective spells

to aid their beloved city in its time of need. Voices could be heard

amidst the screams, loud and prophetic they spoke unholy truths and

muttered demonic phrases just below the threshold of understanding.

An hour after it had begun, silence smote the town with a suddenness,

an audible silence that struck everyone within dumb for a moment. And

just as fast, the sounds of the birds and whistle of wind returned. No

trace of the horrible sounds that had just been heard could be found.

The defenders of Keresh and all those in the surrounding areas

returned to their duties, wondering what awful surprises the forces of

Glasya and Straul had just conjured against them, never knowing that

it was their beloved protectors who were responsible.

As for the triumvirate: Ironspike, Miskaton and Shai'Koras, that is

a tale that is better left unfinished for now. Their deeds were

motivated by love of their city but corrupted by an unflinching self-

righteousness that would ultimately be their downfall. Farewell

Avatarians and watch for more from the Tome of Lost Legends, you

might just find something to help you in time of need.
.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PARTING WORDS by CERDWYN

As previously stated, this is only one of a series of gazettes

dedicated to the races of AVATAR. If you have stories, recipes,

family legends, area reviews, traveler’s tales, biographies,

or anything else that relates to any of the races of AVATAR, you

do not have to wait until we ask for submissions about that race.

Submit your stories to gazinput@outland.org with the title being

racial story - and they will be held until that race’s

issue goes to press. If enough people have an interest in a

particular race’s stories, you could even influence the order

in which stories are collected.

Of particular interest after these Ent stories are read, are

stories of giants and giant-Ent wars (see the Area known as

Battleground, although this was not the first), Demons and

Demonseeds, Humans and the Dragon Races. Which will be next...?
.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is the new Avatar Gazette. It is published with the

permission and cooperation of the Avatar staff and edited by

Cerdwyn. (Original concept by Asamaro and Dizzy.)

The Gazette is written in plain vanilla ASCII text to ensure

that everyone can enjoy it regardless of computer type.

To subscribe to the Gazette, send internet e-mail to

majordomo@outland.org. In the body of your email put:

subscribe gazette username@hostname (MudName - RealName)

e.g. subscribe gazette snikt@outland.org (Snikt - Kevin Jagh)

If you have any questions, commEnts, suggestions, criticisms,

complemEnts, or (best of all) articles that you've written

for the Gazette, please send them to via email to the

address: gazinput@outland.org Please use 'Gazette' as your

subject.

You can also view the latest issue of the Gazette while

playing Avatar by typing 'help newgaz' anywhere in the game,

or on the design web site at http://www.outland.org.

Click on archives, gazettes.

Original credit for Ascii art or other submissions is given

if known.

==================================================================

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Aug 16 2022 03:24
booooooo

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Daeron is running Push Your Luck now. Mini-HoG just ended!

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It is!

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Testing. Testing. This thing on?

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Halfway through August and so many events yet to go! Log in now to join our newest event.

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