9th - 15th November Scroll(Will be much better in the future)

[Jordan]

News:None(Edit this if you wish)

Adivse of the week: Stay on your tows as theifs our lurking in the forest.

Riddle of the week:None

Notices
The Citidel Is A Huge Building Based At The Old Cathedral Now A High Tech Defense Facility. The Citidel Is Unprotected And Is Used For Luca And Misa's Watchtower Of Fantasy Island. The Citidel Is Holding A Tournement To Decide The Next 4 Gaurds Of The Citidel. SO!!!!! Come one come all For the Newest Tournement In Fantasy Island. Join By Adding Your Details Into the bounty and event section And Where You Will Want To Meet Either Misa Or Luca.!!!!!!

Quest name: Gathering on the Dark.
COMPLEATED BY KINO RELLIK
Quest Details: I need some information gathered. Recently, around the area of Neldorin, I have noticed some strange people, clad in black robes. I need them to be followed and i need information on them. Anything useful. [b]DO NOT APPROACH THEM OR INTERVENE WITH THEM. IF ATTACKED YOU MAY ATTACK BACK BUT NO REWARD WILL BE GIVEN AS THIS WILL BE MARKED AS QUEST FAILURE


Quest name: Search for Weapon. COMPLEATED BY YIP-LEE

Quest Details: The Sword of Eon, forged by the greatest blacksmith in history over 5,000 years ago has been hidden somewhere in Neldorin and in order to find a series of riddles left by it's last holder before he passed on must be solved. The Sword of Eon is considered a powerful relic of days gone by.

Time Limit: One Week.

Race Limit: N/A

Reward: The Sword [ Basically a regular sword made of silver that pulses with lightning ]

Quest from: Unknown.

Carved into to a large oak tree at the center of the largest forest in Neldorin is a riddle, it is almost illegible due to the amount of time it has been there, after careful study it clearly reads the following;

A lonely wanderer, wounded with iron, I am smitten with war-blades, sated with strife,
Worn with the sword-edge; I have seen many battles, Much hazardous fighting, oft without hope
Of comforts or help in the carnage of war Ere I perish and fall in the fighting of men.
The leavings of hammers, the handiwork of smiths, Batter and bite me, hard-eged and sharp;
The brunt of the battle I am doomed to endure. In all the folk-stead no leech could I find
With wort or simple to heal my wounds; But day and night with the deadly blows
The marks of the war-blades double and deepen.