DAoC Wilderness Survival Guides

[Aran Thule]

Still imho the funniest thing ever made for DAoC.

Managed to find a site with them on, so will cut-paste here so it doesnt get overrun.

Enjoy.

 

[Aran Thule]

DaoC Wildlife Guide: Hibernia: Kitten, Bubble

The Hibernian Bubble Kitten is a fairly common native species, often found roaming the wild open golf course of Emain. While not exactly a solitary hunter, the Bubble Kitten is often invited, threatened or enslaved into joining roaming packs of other native wildlife species. Which is natural abilities compliment well.

Armed with a variety of natural defence mechanisms, the Bubble Kitten is infuriatingly capable of avoiding damage when attacked. Sadly, unlike other native species, the Bubble Kitten is actually born declawed, but often filled with a burning homicidal rage. Unfortuantely for it, this rage is easy to rile up, but usually goes unsatisfied.

In group situations, the Bubble Kitten will often leap to attack and latch itself onto the back of the neck of its opponent. Where it will proceed to desperately attempt to inflict damage. While in this stage of attack, the Bubble Kitten can be safely ignored, and you may leisurely decimate other more vital/dangerous species such as the Caster or Healer. If mild irritation from the Kitten persists, seek a local Caster to fry, incinerate or otherwise smear the Kitten off the face of the planet.

Be warned however, some breeds of Bubble Kitten are poisonous and may carry diseases, which may proc on you if the Kitten is ignored for too long in its intial attack phase. It is recommended you make sure all of your shots are up to date before venturing into Emain or indeed any part of the Hibernian frontier the Kitten my roam.

If encountered alone in the wild, do NOT, I repeat, do NOT engage the Bubble Kitten with melee attacks unless you have dual wield or similar attacks at your disposal. In this situation the Kitten may actually endanger your life. It will laugh off half of your ponderous melee attacks, as they bounce off its arcanite fur as if repelled by some unseen force.

If left alone for even a second, the Kitten displays amazing powers of regeneration and recuperation. Making it infuriatingly difficult to kill in a one on one. Win or lose, a one on one with a charging Kitten is usually a sure fire way to waste the next 30 minutes of your life.

There are also rumours of the Bubble Kitten being able to perform some sort of ranged attack at a limited distance. However, these go unverified, as all those who have claimed being hit by a ranged attack from a Bubble Kitten show no visible signs of injury.

If faced in a one on one, the Bubble Kitten may infuriate, bore or otherwise defeat and kill its prey. In such an event, the Kitten will commonly salute you, hug you, then sit down next to you and purr as it snaps screenshots to prove it can, in fact, kill something.

Archers are expressly warned against attempting an attack on a Bubble Kitten. Kittens are near impervious to arrows and will chase down an archer in a blinding rage if attacked by them. This is, provided of course the Kitten even realises its being attacked, as its near invunerability will actually prevent it from noticing a ranged missle weapon all together at times.

When roaming in a pack of other native Hibernian species, the Kitten will extend some of its natural defences to its new found group mates. Making the entire party infuriating to deal with. In these situations, it is recommended the Kitten be isolated and annihilated by Casters or dual wielding melee users. It should be easy to spot, keep a close eye on the backs of your comrades necks, where the Kitten may latch itself to begin its savage, yet futile assault.

Some breeds however are known to slink in the back ground, using their powers of regeneration to keep other species alive despite your attempts to beat them to death.

It is also worthy to note, that each additional Kitten moving with the same pack will practically double that groups ability to ward off physical attacks.

It is rumoured in some rare occasionals, Bubble Kittens pack hunt with their own species. These packs are very rare, but exceptionally dangerous to small groups of melee users, who will be dragged down in a flurry of blinding feline rage as Kittens latch onto the face, neck and other vital points. If you spot and regonize a pack of this type, it is recommend you run to the nearest available Caster or Mezzer, so that they may laugh and incinerate kittens one by one.

The three most common breeds of Bubble Kitten are as follows, though some inter breeding is known to occur:

Cackling Bubble Kitten (Also known as the Nurture Bubble Kitten, or "$@*&ing Warden")

This breed is the most defensive of the 3, and the most infuriating for a single melee user to inflict any kind of damage upon. Cackling madly, this breed will attempt to slowly but surely paper cut you to death over the course of 45 minutes while you desperately attempt to hurt it. It is also known to be even more highly resistent to poisons and control spells then its cousins.

Known Calls
"I AM INVINCABLE! Er, uh...crap, no fair, two weapons."
"No, I don't want a Fins group."
"I'm level 50 dammit, I DON'T WANT A FINS GROUP!"
"Hey guys, I'm not really sure but I think a Scout is attacking me."
"No, seriously, I swear, turn your head to the side and look at the bubble. I swear, thats like, a street with a fence and crap."


Raging Bubble Kitten

A rare freak breed of Bubble Kitten that actually retains its claws, tiny as they are. Looked upon as a black sheep by its cousins, the Raging Bubble Kitten is driven by an unholy fury that is somehow contained in its soft, cude and cuddly frame. This species is the most likely to latch onto the face or neck with little regard for its own safety. Its natural defences aren't as strong as its cousins, but it attempts to make up for it with all the offence its mewing Kitten self can muster. This type of Kitten is usually regarded as insane by its group mates, who believe it should have been born as a different species.

Known Calls
"Yes, I spec'd a weapon to *50*...no seriously. Stop looking at me like that."
"I have 50+27 blades! ......and I still hit like a little girl. No I'm not crying, there's something in my eye."
"<sniff> yeah, well, I hit like a very fast, ANGRY little girl. Bring it."
"My God, relax, 8s is just fine."
"Stop telling me I should have rolled a Champion."

Wired Bubble Kitten (Also known as the Regrowth Bubble Kitten, the Kitten That Won't Die and Last Kitten Standing.)

Almost as rare a breed as its Raging cousin, the Wired Bubble Kitten seems to be tapped directly into the core of the sun itself. As long as its still twitching at the end of a battle, it will get up and recover its physical resources at a sickening rate of speed. You can toss this Kitten under the hooves of a passing horse a 100 times over and it simply won't give up and die.

Known Calls
"Hey, why is everyone sitting down? Resting for End.....wha?"
"Ha! I absorb life from the Sun! No really, see? 1 hitpoint.....2 hit points......3 hitpoints...."
"Mastery of Healing my ass, watch me lay out the 300 hp healing smack down."
"No, I don't have Cure Poison, Cure Poison is for sissies. Take it like a man, it'll wear off."

Except from the DaoC Wildlife Guide,
- Aelhaeran

 

[Aran Thule]

Hibernian Robe Crested Bolter (Eldritch)

Spindly, dextrous and pointed of ears, the Robe Crested Bolter is a common species found roaming the greens of Emain. Known for its ability to incinerate things, which it presumably developed in order to survive the fact is has a laughable capacity for absorbing damage.

While fairly agile, it is predominantly weak when confronted in physical melee. Undaunted by this, it often arms itself with a blunt object and paper thin materials it seems to think are "armour". Its dress like "armour" however, tends to at times actually imped its physical ability to flee from danger, rather then help. Its feeble constitution makes it prone to a variety of severe injuries that can be sustained from such things as "strong gusts of wind", "pillows" and "being sneezed in the general direction of."

Luckily, a fair number of Bolters realise the fact they are one hit wonders and easy melee prey to pretty much anything, including even the native Bubble Kitten. Thus they often attach themselves to roving groups of other species for protection, or at least just to have someone distract natural predators for the 3s required to incinerate them into ash.

Despite its defensive drawbacks, the Robe Crested Bolter commands some of the most fearsome offensive abilities of any native species. Provided nothing gets within slapping range of it anyway. It is capable of frying, freezing, incinerating and otherwise decimating opponents with its rampet arcane powers. Sadly, these same powers are sometimes known to wear away at the thin mental fabric of their minds. Potentially making the Bolter a tad more aggressive then he really should be.

While capable of a variety of destructive powers, the Bolter gets its name from well, Bolts, dangerous ranged attacks mustered from the power of sheer Uncreation itself.

Or at least thats what they think.

In reality, some greater power somewhere decided a practical joke was in order, and swapped the defination of Bolt spells with the defination of "Pretty fireworks" spells. The end result is a Robe Crested Bolter will often hurdled pulsating balls of doom into a battle, when in actuality the spells were merely designed to make the battle seem more "exciting" to any spectators by providing massive, flashy special effects.

Sadly, the Bolter often desperately clings to what he's been taught. That Bolts are indeed pulsating chariots of Death to be hurdled at ones foes and the Bolter himself is the single most powerful force in the realms. Ironically, this often results in many Bolters unknowingly blaming or cursing the original higher powers responsible for the practical joke to begin with.

In actualty, Bolts can be used as an offensive weapon. They simply are only effective against specific targets. A Bolt cannot harm anything in combat, anything running, anything walking, anything wearing anything thicker then a sweater or anyone thinking about being in combat, walking, running or wearing anything thicker then a sweater.

This limits the Robe Crested Bolters natural prey to small, slow moving woodland creatures, some types of pesky garden weeds and naked mimes.

There are 3 general Breeds of Robe Crested Bolter, though as always some inter breeding is to be expected.


Robe Crested Flashy Bolter (Also known as a Void Bolter, Robe Crested GTaoer, or merely as "(@&$ing gtaoe.")

Perhaps the most misguided of all 3 breeds, the Void Bolter actually pursued further strengthening of the forementioned Bolts. Unfortunately, stregthening ones Bolts is much like multiplying something by 0.

Due to repeated failures and dwindling hope of their Bolts ever actually harming another living creature, Void Bolters often lash out angrily with various AoE abilities or other crippling effects. Since their primary single target attack is laughable at best, they reason the next best thing is to simply strike EVERY god damn thing they can hit in a single cast.

Its not uncommon to see thse black sheep randomly stop and annihilate entire fields of small woodland animals with a single cast just to reassure themselves of their own fantastical power.

Known Calls
"HE WAS SITTING DOWN IN THE MIDDLE OF AN OPEN FIELD! HOW THE HELL WAS THAT IN COMBAT!?"
"Hah! I am the master of Uncreation, I wield the sheer power of the Void, Life and Death are mine to command as I channel the single most powerful spec line known, COME ON BARBARIANS, tre......need rez."
"Hehehehe, sorry guys, I musta clicked on my AoE by accident. Still, that was pretty funny. Um...so..did the rezzer log out in time?"
"POP goes the young badger....POP goes the Annoying Lucridan....POP goes the.....dammit (quickcasts stun)."
"Hah, you call that a pull? That was pathetic, you barely scratched it. Let ME pull you sissy ass."
"Bwahaha, ya see that pull? That bolt did like 30% to a Purple! Hah! I am such a badass, I.....jeebus! TAUNT YOU WORTHLESS MONKIES USE TAUNT!"


Robe Crested Pyrobolter (Also known as the Light Bolter, Thermobolter, or Lightritch)

Unlike the Flashy Bolter, this Breed either didn't have the faith in Void, or was a Flashy Bolter in another life, but depression and frustration drove him to use his respec.

Pyrobolters rely on one thing, pure thermo nuclear single target liquification. They don't care if they can't hit 67 people at once, because they sure as hell can evaporate one and often do so with sadistic glee.

Unlike the somewhat more subtle Flashy Bolter, the Pyrobolters primary means of attack basically screams "ATTENTION ALL TANKS AND OR ROGUES I AM IN THIS DIRECTION SIMPLY FOLLOW THE SCREAMING LINE OF FIRE TO FIND AND/OR GANK ME." and usually negates any and all hope of the Pyrobolter remaining unnoticed on the battle field. While the Pyrobolter DOES have more subtle means of attack at its disposal, such spells simply aren't as flashy or impressive.

This breed is also capable of blinding and mesmerizing its opponents, as well as having a stun from Hell itself. But these tricks are simply viewed as nessacary evils in the Pyrobolters continued quest to set people, things, trees, houses, creation, etc on fire.

Known Calls
"Huh huh....fire, fIRE, FIRE."
"Hah, you know your armours on fire right? Betcha wished ya spec'd Mastery of Water and had a lake nearby now doncha punk?"
"I will crush your feeble mental capacities with a BARRAGE OF COLOUR! YES! HOW DOES THAT FEEL?! Feeling woozy are ya? Huh? Oh big Mr Troll ain't so tough now is he? With his big axes and.......purge sucks. So...um...any rezzers near MWE?"
"So, this one time I mezzed like, this ENTIRE field of rabbits, dogs, rats, bats, birds, hell EVERYTHING with a pulse fell over and stared at the pretty colours. It was cool...course...then a Void Eld came along and one shotted them all in a single cast. But still, mez rocks."

Robe Crested Seizure Bolter (Also known as the Thermo Strobe, PBaoer or simply "Staring into the core of the Sun.")

Unlike the other 2 breeds which have some semblance of self preservation, the Thermo Strobe bolter has channeled all of its strength into the insanely dangerous point blank area of effect spell.

While wildly powerful, its primary means of attack requires it to wade into the midst of natural predators in order to be effective. This results in a dangerous mix of suicidal tendencies and homical rage. Despite having the most meager defence of any natural species, the Seizure Bolter will often burst from hiding and run screaming into packs of enemies in order to deliver its thermo nuclear payload. Often relying on his spells ability to tap into the goddam core of the Sun itself to daze and blind his opponents long enough to cast it more then once.

When not in combat, the Thermo Bolter will prowl around, sometimes even solo, seeking large packs of foes it can toss its life away at. Its not unusual to see some of these death bombs run headlong into siege parties or pressed up against walls and doors searing the retinas of friend and foe alike.

Known Calls
"Dammit, thats the 7th time...you SURE you guys are using Taunt? Fine fine...waiting on rez sickness."
"Hah, they'll never see it coming! They're all concentrating on that keep door, stupid idiots, I'll just job over there and....need rez."
"Did ya see that?!I musta laid out like 9000 damage smack down on those punks! So...any rezzers near Crauch?"
"Hmm? Oh, Aspirin? Yeah...I always have to carry some, here."
"Why am I wearing sunglasses? Erm...you've never grouped with a Mana Eld before have you?"

Excerpt from the DaoC Wilderness Guide,
- Aelhaeran

 

[Aran Thule]

DaoC Wilderness Guide: Slinker, Studded

Slinking through the wild grasses of Hadrian's, the Studded Slinker is a wirey, agile creature. Using its natural abilities of stealth, and its ability to camoflouge to hide it from its predators and prey alike.

Unlike similar slinking species, the Studded Slinker relies not on a direct up close ambush, but rather chooses to attack its prey by suprise with a brutal ranged attack. For reasons unknown, the Studded Slinker's ranged accuracy with its attacks varies at random between God-like and that of a 4 year old throwing rocks at birds.

Its also known to occasionally lose any and all semblance of its dexterity the second it touches its ranged weapon. Resulting in it stumbling onto its face, fumbling and breaking its stealth. Leaving it it vunerable and weeping at its own inadequancy, despite the fact its been training with its bow for countless years.

When the God's have mercy on it, and its able to fire more then 3 arrows in a row without dropping the bow or hitting everything within 100 paces of the target save the target itself...it is rather quite deadly.

Invading species of the slinking ambusher variety are its primary predator. While the Studded Slinker is capable of hiding itself from near all eyes, ambushing slinkers laugh at its feeble attempts to hide and spot it from 10 miles off with one eye closed. Usually resulting in the venemous ambusher species leisurely hiking 10 miles to take out the Studded Slinker.

However, unlike other ranged Slinkers, the Studded Slinker is capable of a brutal melee slam that will rock and stun an opponent long enough for it to regain the advantage in close quarters. While other ranged slinkers have learned how to hold up a round flat blunt object to shield themselves from blows...The Studded Slinker has ungone years of training to ascend from "Blocking blows with a shield" to "Hitting someone in the face with a shield."

Its primary defence against its natural predator is a chameleon like ability to camoflouge itself into its surroundings. However, for reasons unknown it requires around 10 minutes to achieve this state of stealth. During those ten minutes it cannot be attacked, moved, coughed on, talked to or otherwise disturbed, or its concentration will be broken. Forcing it to start all over hiding itself.

There are a few breeds of Studded Slinker, though the variations are moderately compared to other species.

Sniper Slinker (Aka the Snipah, Hill Camper or Distracter Of Bubble Kittens)

This breed has focused all of its strength into training with its ranged attacks, often neglecting its melee capabilities. However it, and all breeds usually retain the melee slam ability out of self preservation.

Despite countless years of training, even beyond the other breeds, the Sniper Slinker is just as likely to hit the tree 100 paces to your left as it is to hit you. Provided it successfully notches an arrow in its bow without hurting itself.

Known Calls
"(twang) SON OF A BITCH, ow ow ow ow. (sticks thumb in mouth and starts looking around in the grass at its feet for arrow)."
"(twang) HAH! Eat it you filthy celt....er.....tree behind the celt...#@$)(& it, I'm going home."
"(twang) .......that was DEAD on! What the Hell? .....MAGICAL BARRIER MY GLORIOUS STUDDED ASS!"
"I am one with the grass, the trees, the rocks, I am unseen, I am the shadow in the corner of your vision, I am......need rez."

Luring Slinker (Aka the Slammer, Shield Stunning Bastard or Rockjaw)

This breed has focused more on its direct combat capabilities, using its bow as a method of luring prey in close so it can stun it and poke it full of holes.

It commonly lures prey in with a false sense of security as its ranged attack does a feeble amount of damage to its charging target. Only to break their face with its shield, and proceed to gut their prey as it stands there, stunned, looking for whats left of its nose.

Known Calls
"BAM! Right in the freakin KISSER!"
"Don't forget to pick up your teeth when you're done bleeding to death there."
"BAM! Hah, oh man I......God DAMN, I didn't know the Elven jaw could bend that way, rock!"
"Little closer....4s to fire....son of ()&#$$ SB, need rez."
"The rock uncovers you! You are no longer hidden!"

Except from the DaoC Wildlife Guide,
- Aelhaeran

 

[Aran Thule]

DaoC Wilderness Guide: Hibernia: Dancing, Moose

The most physically powerful of all native Hibernia species, the Dancing Moose is as majestic as it is dangerous. Emain Macha is a common roaming grounds for this massive species, often easily identifiable by its unique choice in ardaments.

When it comes to sheer physical combat, the Dancing Moose is offensively and defensively the most well suited of all Hibernian species. While powerful in its own right, its physical might is only strengthened and enchanced when joined with other species in groups. By itself it is a powerful, but relatively simple creature, which has difficulties expanding its strategy and fighting capability beyond "Hitting stuff hard" and "Hitting stuff really hard".

Aggressive and single minded, the Dancing Moose will charge headlong into the ranks of natural predators and enemies. Its relentlessly assault does not stop until it is either killed, or the person/object it was hitting very hard stops moving. In which case it will hit it a few more times to make sure it does not persist in moving, or think about ever moving again. Then proceed to the next thing it percieves moving and repeat the process until either it or everything opposing it has been beaten down into a non-moving state.

The average Dancing Moose perfers sheer power per hit over speed or defence, in fact, being hit doesn't really bother it. Niether does bleeding or burning or any form of injury. It will relentlessly attack and chase any and all enemies regardless of personal injury. This may be due to chemical imbalances in the brain, or it may be do to the fact it knows if endangered it can assume its true Uber-Moose form.

Once every so often, the Dancing Moose can call upon some unseen power and become the Uber-Moose, a being of incredible constitution and durability. The Uber-Moose is apparently worshipped as the conduit to some divine power or higher being in Hiberia. When the Uber-Moose transformation occurs it is MANDATORY that at least one representative from every group, guild or tribe within sight range to yell "MOOSE!~!" in homage to the mighty Uber-Moose Gods above. This is an absolute, unquestionable truth and must be performed lest terrible misfortune befall Hibernia.

Occasionally, due to the fore-mentioned suspected chemical imbalance, a Dancing Moose will seemingly, at random, turn into the Uber Moose despite the fact no threat is nearby. It is during these times we see the true level of madness these poor creatures suffer through. With no enemy to fight, the newly transformed Uber-Moose will begin a wild dance routine, hence giving the Dancing Moose its name. Sadly, the Dancing Moose, despite its vigor, really only knows one dance, and frankly, only knows about the first 3 or 4 steps of it. But this doesn't stop it from gleely repeating what it does know of the dance over and over until the effect wears off.

Previously, there were only two real known sub species of Moose, the average sized Moderate Moose and the slower but more physically powerful Mega Moose. But recently, researchers and experts in the field have discovered a new sub species, the Mini Moose. As a result, the Dancing Moose now comes in all 3 convient sizes, Small, Medium and Large.

A sturdy and adaptable species, there are several breeds of Dancing Moose known:

Spear Moose (aka the Spearo, Bullwinkle the Impaler or simply "Stabby the Moose that wants to hurt you")

The most common and deadly variety of Dancing Moose, the Spear Moose has opted for the largest, sharpest, most dangerous weapon it could get its hands on. It takes particular glee in ramming its shaft into opposing species (spear that is).

Its tactics consist largely of running off like a freaknut and attempting to brutally kill any non-native species it encounters. Regardless of whether it is alone or grouped. Numbers do not matter to the Spear Moose, or perhaps, it is simply incapable of counting.

While lacking some of the defensive abilities of its cousin breeds, the Spear Moose is still the single most offensively devestating breed, let alone species, in all of Hibernia when it comes to sheer physical combat.

Known Calls
"Hah! I hit that caster for 978~!!"
")@#*&$@# wrong button..../dance /dance /dance"
"(sob) I wasted my IP on a kobold"
"Hah, did ya see that? I killed both of em! Damn I rock, right guys? .....hey guys?"
"Time to die Middie fre....can anyone cure mez? .....nevermind, can anyone rez?"


Board Moose (Aka Sword & Bored Moose)

This breed has forgone the totally offensive route of his cousins and opted to split his physical capabilities between offence and defence. His offensive power suffers for this, but he makes up for it in other areas.

Hiberia's other native species love the Board Moose for its ability to guard and protect them from physical harm. Physically weaker species can safely hide behind the Board Moose from physical assaults.

Sadly, among its own kind, the Board Moose is generally considered a complete freak and an outcast. It wanders Hibernia, seeking solace with other species, but always secretly longing to actually find others like itself.

Known Calls
"Anyone need me to Guard them? Anyone? ......please?"
"I blocked 17 hits for you, you know. I saved your life."
"Hey baby, I'm trynna Guard ya...but you have to stand closer (wink wink)"


Moose of Annihilation (Aka the 2-Hander or "You should have rolled a champ, doof")

While still opting for a large weapon, this breed of Moose simply didn't want to go all out like the Spear Moose. Instead, it opted for a little more speed and a little less offense.

Hell, who are we kidding, the Moose of Annihilation is all about one thing.

It wants to get behind you and brain you like the soft skulled little log wart you are. Once it has achieved this, its life's goal, it will casually tear you apart while you sit there with your brains leaking out your ears. It doesn't matter if it only accomplishes this once a day, the afterglow will last it all day.

Known Calls
"I don't care, mez it or stun it, just let me get behind it."
"Shut up, I do NOT look like a retard with a giant falcata when I go Moose."
"Ok, you distract him, so I can sneak up behind him and brain him. I don't know, throw rocks or something at him."
"Whatta ya mean distract only works on mobs?"

Excerpt from the DaoC Wilderness Guide,
Aelhaeran Ffordmorynn

 

[Aran Thule]

DaoC Wilderness Guide: Hibernia: Mindbender, Robe-Crested

Every bit as spindly and physically laughable as its Robe-Crested cousins, the Mindbender, tragically, shares a similar fate. As with all Robe-Crested species, the Mindbender has been imbued with fantastical powers of destruction in exchange for having the durability of wet paper.

However, while weak of body, the Mindbender is probably one of the most dangerous of all Robe-Crested species. Not to its enemies, but rather to its friends. With its unique abilities, the Mindbender is capable of calming down its fellows and speeding up their spiritual recovery.

Unfortunately, while seemingly innocent at first....this ability is insidious and dangerously addictive to those on the recieving end. Time and time again will they crawl back to the Mindbender, begging, pleading or demanding another sweet sweet taste of power regen'n bliss.

Sadly, for the Mindbender, this is not exactly its intent when it set out to help its realm mates. Now cursed with the stigmata of Empowering Unity, it roams Emain, lending its assisting to groups of native species, but ever wary of its own power.

A careless bit of helpfulness in the wrong place with its castable regen would be like holding a bucket of water near a pack of wild dogs dying of thirst. The Mindbender will undoubtably be mobbed, and cries for its power will ring throughout the land from those too lazy to actually go find the Mindbender, expecting him to come to them.

Despite this, the Mindbender is possessing of yet another terrible power. The power of the migraine. Yes, the migraine. With a simple wave of its hand, the Mindbender can open a direct conduit between your soft, gooey, delicate brain tissue and the screaming gates of Hell itself. Resulting in a terrible, unearthly raging pain that wracks the mind and body over time until the victim succumbs to the torture.

As if that wasn't enough, some Mindbenders are taken to charming normally hostile native species into doing their bidding. Sometimes, this ability is harmless, and the Mindbender merely finds itself a cute mascot. Other times, it is questionable as Roane Maidens or similar enchantingly beautiful beings are....entranced by the Mindbender for whatever purposes.

But the most dangerous use of all is when the Mindbender uses this ability to charm mighty allies to aid it in battle. This is just as dangerous to the Mindbender as it is to the enemy however. When dealing with raging beasts full of a writhing, ungodly urge to kill, as the Mindbender often likes to charm, sometimes the entrancement is not exactly...stable. It is not uncommon to see an inexperienced Mindbender fleeing for its cloth cladded little ass from a raging beast it managed to keep under control for a mere 17 seconds.

There are 3 main breeds of Mindbender

Robe-Crested Manabender (Aka the Mana Ment, Giver of Migraines or simply, the Crack Dealer.)

Perhaps the most excruitiating of all Mindbenders to encountered, the Manabender merely needs to tag a foe with its unbridled skull wracking power. Then skip away giggling as its targets will too live dissolves under wracking pain.

On the flip side, the Manabender also possesses the most powerful and most addictive of all the mana regen capabilities. The oft slanged, Crack 5, the sweet sweet chalice of ever plentiful mana. Mobbed by other native species where ever he goes, the Manabender can oft do little but use its castable regen as a weapon to pacify its attackers and flee.

Known Calls
"The first one is always free, if you get my drift."
"Its not PLZ or PLS, its PLEASE, if you want to ask for mana regen AT LEAST SPELL OUT THE ENTIRE GOD DAMN WORD."
"Its not CRACK, its empowering unity, calmness, oneness of spirit and ease of mind.......oh what the hell, its crack."
"Hahah, look at em all wracked in pain, I musta tagged 6 or 7 of em. Kinda sucks I don't get exp while dead though."
"Middy want a Tylenol? Middy want a Tylenol? Aspirin maybe? Advil? No? Ya sure?"


Robe-Crested Lightbender (Aka the Light ment, Prince Charming or Shouldarolledachanter)

This breed delights in two things, and two things only. Enslaving minds to its will, and incinerating all who would oppose it.

Some Lightbenders are actually Manabenders but after repeated mobbings by fellow native species, they snapped and respec'd into the most destructive and violent spec they could find.

Lightbenders can oft be seen wandering the lands for hours, just to find that perfect pet to make use of for all of 10 minutes in combat with invading species. They delight in finding the most intimidating or screwed up beasts possible to send into combat with their foes. Just for shock value alone.

Known Calls
"Do I look like I have crack to you? Do I?"
"So, how long do you think I can keep a purple charmed?"
"Um...the Roane Maiden? I know she's not strong enough to fight in Emain...she's uh...keeping me company. Yeah, she's my mascot."
"My Orchard Nipper can and will kick your ass, just try me."
"Hehe, um, hey guys? Get ready to taunt, the Fin just resisted my charm. Yeah, haha, its resisting. No...seriously it is."
"Hah! Rock, I charmed the Orey! Dude, I didn't think you could do that....hey, why are you all disbanding?"
"Cool, I charmed a red! Rock, now we'll.....need rez."


Robe Crested Mezbender

This breed is a total myth, and only spoken of in ancient story and fairy tail. They are said not to exsist in any way shape or form. Legends tell of really slow bards in robes that could heal and mez, but had no chants and occasionally set things on fire. Researchers believe these vague early references pointed to the now surely extinct Mezbender breed.

Known Calls
"Hey I am NOT extinct!"

Excerpt from the DaoC Wilderness Guide,
- Aelhaeran

 

[Aran Thule]

DaoC Wilderness Guide Part 6: Hibernia: Cougar, Glaring

An interesting and relatively unique species, the Glaring Cougar actually began its early evolution as little more then a savage beast, distantly related to such things as the Bubble Kitten. However, for reasons unknown, early Glaring Cougars had a bizzarre lust for members of the Robe Crested species. Resulting in a hybrid species that isn't truely either one or the other.

Generations of breeding with Robe-Crested species and their wet noodle like constitution have weakened the physical capabilities of the Cougar. Now, while not quite as physically powerful as the lumbering Dancing Moose, the Glaring Cougar is still a capable physical combatant. It shares the same protective arcanite fur as some of its fellow Hibernian species in addition to being dextrous enough to evade some blows. Giving it ample defensive capabilities.

It gains its name from its unique ability to demoralize, weaken and assault its foes by simply staring at them. Yes, staring at them. For reasons unknown, the Glaring Cougar is capable of literally boring a hole in your feeble skull with its gaze. Invading species under the gaze of the Cougar have been known to trip, stumble and explode. Though this process of sitting and staring at things is surprisingly tiring for the Cougar.

It relies on this ability to intimidate, skull bore and combust from afar to weaken more powerful species before it engages them in physical combat. Due to this pattern of attack, it is much like the Dancing Moose in that it selects a target, homes in and beelines at it like a ravanous furry missle of death. Unrelenting until the target has been sufficently beaten about the head and neck, thus ceasing movement.

It is recommended, if you engage a Cougar in physical combat, that you ensure you've taken all possible resistences and precautions. When combating a Cougar, it is not uncommon for half of your face to simply explode and/or be ignited in a searing blast of death at periodic intervals. You may also notice a haze of purple smoke or other bizzarre atmospheric effects about your person. Do not worry, these are temporary. You may experience nausea, dizziness or weakness upon exposure, so it is recommend you do not inhale when exposed to minimize the effects.

The most telltale sign of a Glaring Cougar is in fact the pattern of fur it obtains when it reaches its highest peak of experience. This "epic pelt" if you will is immensely extravagant and reflective. It will collect and reflect any and all lightsources like a screaming bonfire on the horizon. This makes the Glaring Cougar very easy to spot, as one is often trying to shield one's eyes from the glare off their hide.

To combat this, a fair number of Glaring Cougars will actually roll themselves in various colours of mud and dirt in an attempt to dim the gleaming fur pattern. thus increasing their chances of taking opponents by surprise.

There are two main breeds of Glaring Cougar

Pouncing Cougar (aka Annihilating Cougar, Brainrocker or the Skullbuster.)

This is the most common breed of Glaring Cougar, and it favours a pattern of attack very similar to some species of Dancing Moose. It attempts to sneak up on, circle or otherwise get behind a target so that it may perform a devestating attack upon the back of their soon to be squishy head.

Glaring Cougars do not have an Uber Moose form to rely on, thus they are even more paranoid about attempting to sneak up on opponents from behind. A particularly favoured tactic is to pack hunt with another Glaring Cougar. This way, the first Cougar can approach from the front, blinding the target with its gloriously shiny fur, while the second attacks from behind.

Typically, this breed relies on its slashing claws to attack, but some of them have been none to forgo claws and attempt to break skulls with large, blunt objects.

Known Calls
"What do you mean I'm not a *real* tank?"
"Booyah, see that? I DD'd, weakened, slowed and snared that guy...whew...I need a break now. Can you guys finish em off for me?"
"Trust me, I'll wear this robe and staff, they'll think I'm a caster. No, the falcatta on my back won't tip them off, I'll make sure not to turn around."
"I kinda miss my main's PBT, er, I mean, yeah, evade rocks."
"Nope, wasn't me that aggro'd the Orey. Did you see me do anything? Nope, I didn't cast a spell. Did you see my hands move? Ya didn't, did ya, so I wasn't CASTING a spell now was I? (whistles innocently)"
"That look like it hurt, I think your brain is leaking. Don't worry, it'll wear off in like, 8 seconds or so. Course, you'll have bigger things to worry about by then."


Bored Cougar (Aka the Sword and Board Cougar, Board Champ or S/S Champ)

A rare species even under ideal conditions, the Bored Cougar has forgone its offense in favour of additional defensive options. Sadly, this actually makes them more like their distant cousins, the Bubble Kitten.

They are capable of skull rattling stun attacks however, which gives them ample time to hurt an opponent while they try to locate whats left of their jaw. Often times they will attempt to bait attackers into striking their shield, thus giving them opening to break their face with the forementioned shield.

Known Calls
"You know, if I rolled a sword and board hero...and put dd charges on his shield and stuff..that'd be cool, he'd be just like... Oh wait."
"Yes, I'm a champ. No, we don't all have giant falcatta's."
"For the last time, ITS NOT EXPENSIVE TO RECHARGE MY CHARGED ITEMS BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE ANY! I'M A CHAMP! I'M CASTING SPELLS!"
"Look ma! NO HANDS! (casts spell)"
"Yeah, he was all like, oh hey mister Hibby, it sure is fun fighting you, oh look, I parried you for the 17th time, ha ha. It was right after that, that half his face exploded for no apparent reason."

Except from the DaoC Wilderness Guide,
- Aelhaeran

 

[Aran Thule]

DaoC Wilderness Guide: Nomadic: Whining Jackal

Out of all native species, the Whining Jackal is one of the most contemptable and avoided. It is completely nomadic, wandering unrestrained between all three realms and bringing with it irritation and headaches to all that encounter it.

Physically speaking, the Jackal is weak, mangy and pathetic. Its physical short comings might normally illicit sympathy, if it wasn't for the fact the species seems to go out of its way to annoy any and all it encounters. Whether unintentionally or not.

You see, the Jackal seems to be mainly motivated by its own selfish desires, and a total lack of intelligence, will or effort normally required to fillfull such desires. Thus it relies on plaintively whining, harping or demanding upon other species to provide for it. It is incapable of gathering resources for itself, seemingly out of its own lack of will to actually have to work to accomplish anything.

Sadly, this is coupled with an innate belief that the Jackal is some kind of royalty, Godsend or other divine manifestation. The Whining Jackal expects the entire world to immediately bow way and hand over goods and services, as obviously, at least in the Jackal's head, the universe revolves around it. Thus you are expected to bow down and give praise.

One must be very careful when near a Jackal, this huge ego and swelled head sometimes develops its own gravitational pull due its sheer mass. It is quite possible to get sucked into this gravitational pull, and be stuck trying to rid yourself of the filthy thing for the next few hours.

They are also known for an annoying tendency to maim, cripple and otherwise deface spoken languages. Often bastardizing them into a more compressed or asinine form which it uses to communicate. Reasons behind this are unknown, but theories vary between the Jackal is too lazy to actually use enough breath to communicate an entire word or it actually believes it is somehow "cool" or "uber" to speak like someone that recently suffered a massive head injury.

Jackals, being nomadic, can be found roaming anywhere under almost any guise in any realm. In fact they will often jump ship from one realm to another, seeking the most bountiful land to pillage and prove their uberness within. Disguise is often used as to make them more difficult to identify (and thus rid yourself of) until it is too late. They are a bane on all realms and all species, often incurring wrath from other species that might normally fight each other. But, upon identifying a Whining Jackal, will proceed to flog and masicate it first before returning to their previous hostilities with one another.

Some Jackals will eventually succeed in amassing enough resources to increase their own strength or wealth. This is an extremely dangerous case, as the Jackal is now powerful enough to cause serious disruption to the local native species. Often disguising itself, then leading or causing peril to other species through its own rampent idiocy or lack of caution.

There are several breeds of Whining Jackal, and interbreeding is very common. So one should always be on the look out for hybrid offspring.

The Begging Jackal (AKA Beggers or simply people you'd like to somehow physically harm through the computer)

This is one of the most basic breed of Jackal, it will hang out in populated areas, begging for coins, items, equipment, anything it can get its greasy paws on. it will incessantly annoy any and all that go near it, begging or even demanding coins or equipment.

This breed is immensely dangerous to any species that have grown into their "epic" pelts, as the Jackal will see this as a sign of wealth and prosperity. Seeking to leech away from your hard work and accomplishments the Begging Jackal will attempt to beg, plead or even reason with you that since you're 50th level you obviously have gold or equipment you can spare. Notice this breed never actually asks if you'd WANT to spare gold/equipment to an annoying little ass wart like themselves. They merely attempt to prove the fact that its possible you have such resources, and then expect you to share.

It is recommended you use trickery, shunning, biting sarcasm or swift, brutal physical violence to deal with this breed.

Known Calls
"Can u spare some gold plz?"
"Give me gold"
"Plz can u have gold 4 me?"
"Plz to be making with teh gold"
"Ur lvl 50 u have gold u can spare"
"u have any weapons I can have?"
"can i have sum equipmant?"
"plz plz plz plz plz plz"
"Hey can any1 spare some gold?"
"ur lvl 50, give me some plat" (Seriously, I've been asked this)
"can u spare some g so i can dye my stuf black?"


The Ass Jackal (AKA the Leech, the Tourist or the wannabe powergamer)

The Ass Jackal exsists for one reason, and one reason alone. It desires someone(s) to take it out and fight for it, so that it may acquire learning and experience faster then its peers with little actual personal effort. In order to accomplish this, it will locate other species more powerful then itself, and then attempt to affix itself to their backside. This way it can easily follow around its chosen target(s) like an insidious parasite, attempting to leech away experience and resources from entire parties if given have a chance.

Like all Jackal breeds, whining, begging, pleading and demanding may take part in its efforts to convince you to allow it to affix itself to your buttocks like some kind of experience arse tick.

You will also find this breed wandering into areas far beyond its strength and capability. Then attempting to find a group to adopt it, hoping to play the pity card. But usually it only ends up inadvertantly playing the idiot card.

Best recommendation for dealing with this breed is to take it out into the woods under the guise of powerleveling it, but in reality, are simply moving to an area where its easier to dispose of the body.

Known Calls
"Hey can u pl me plz?"
"Can i join u group?"
"Can u get me exp?"
"Can i sit her and join you so i can get exp?"
"pl me"
"u should pl me cus u are higher level, u haf to"
"/broad CAN ANY1 PL ME?>!"
"/yell LFG TO PL ME!~@"

The Uber Jackal (Aka teh d00dz, teh r0x0rz or teh sex)

Probably the single most infuriating out of every breed. This breed of Jackal has somehow managed to stumble its way through its seasons and achieved some level of capability. It is on a continous quest to locate the most "uber" equipment, camp the most "uber" places and use the most "uber" excuses for "skills".

This breed will always be drawn to professions and "tactics" that allow it to be "uber" and attempt to prove this uberness over others as often as possible, thus allowing it to masturbate its fragile ego. Whether its actually assisting its realm mates or using legite tactics in the process is of no concern. Overwhelming opinion of this behaviour is that the Uber Jackal must be attempting to somehow compensate for small genitalia.

This is one of the most difficult types of Jackal to rid yourself of. Even when challenged with physical violence, the Uber Jackal will have 1 of 5000 excuses to explain how or why it was defeated. None of them have anything to do with it actually being defeated or outskilled fair and square.

Known Calls
"Ha, did you see me gank that caster? I one shotted him!"
"I've killed 19 Albs in the last 20 minutes, what have you retards done?"
"Pfft, its not an exploit, its a TACTIC"
"If they didn't want me to use it they would have fixed the bug."
"*&@#$ing Hibs, if it wasn't for that unbalanced quickcast stun I'd have pweened them."
"@#$*&@ing Albs, if it wasn't for that cabbie DoT and song of speed I would have pweened them."
")(*&@#$@#ing Mids, if it wasn't for that Pac Shammy I'd have pweened them."
"*(&@$#ing True Sight, I would have pweened him."
"I would have pweened you if my I Win button wasn't on a timer."
"&@#$ing if it wasn't for lag I'd have pweened him."
"Hah! I pweened that guy harsh."
"Did you see me gank that group of greys by myself? I am so uber."
"Piss off, we're camping this area in case Bojiddlijeezus spawns and we can get the Mighty Penis Laser one time drop."
"Go find your own mobs, this part of the dungeon is mine."
(too many to list....)

Excerpt from the DaoC Wilderness Guide,
- Aelhaeran

 

[Aran Thule]

DaoC Wilderness Guide: Hibernia: Flurried Sabrecat.

Perhaps one of the rare breeds among the lands of Hibernia, the Sabrecat is an amazing, agile, blood thirsty species. Capable of unbridled damage upon its foes in a whirl of blinding steel and pain.

or at least thats what everyone keeps trying to tell it to comfort it.

In actuality, the Sabrecat, on the surface, seems to possess all of the tools required to be a dangerous, formidable predator. Decent natural defenses, vicious, frontloading fangs, amazing speed and agility.....yet somehow it weaves drukenly back and forth across a fine line between whirling homical manical and mewing, kitten like ineffectiveness.

Reasons for this are wildly debated, but one unusual and potential explaination is the Sabrecat's attack patterns themselves. While it does indeed possess two, razor sharp death dealing fangs....it has a tendancy to attack with one at a time. In other words, it attempts to chew with either the right or left side of its mouth, only occasionally attacking a foe with a full on bite.

Oddly, the reason for this may be due to the fact the Sabrecat seems to somehow inflict greater damage when it focuses on biting with only the side of its mouth, rather then the entire mouth. As if it lacks full on jaw strength.

Its primary defense is its near omnipotent ability to sense and evade incoming attacks no matter from what direction they come. This unnatural and surely unholy ability allows them to dance out of harms way just when you thought you'd have them. This ability seems completely instinctual, in that the Sabrecat may not even be aware of your presence, but impending attack makes its Kitty Senses tingle just in time to evade your attack.

Occasionally, the Sabrecat is capable of suddenly slipping into a brief homical rage, a "flurry" of pain and suffering that tears through flesh like a hot knife through butter. However, this flurry of unbridled homicidal damage output only lasts about 1/10th of a second, thus occuring instantly in the blink of an eye. Afterwards, the Sabrecat will require some time's rest and relaxation before making use of this ability again.

Sabrecats generally tend to be mentally unstable, often succombing to bouts of depression or anger. These stem from its own ineffectiveness, yet its undying determination to go yard ape on the delicate bones of your face, head, next, ribs, spine, etc. As it looks at itself and sees a hulkering, wily feline capable of a glorious symphony of death and destruction. Yet in practice, ends up more like a saucy bar janty, dribbled from the lips of a drunken sailor.

Other species will often adopt and comfort these forelorn Sabrecats into their own groups and families. When properly cared for and kept under the supporting bufferage of its new group mates, the Sabrecat can be successfully rehibilitated and released, if under some group supervision, back into the wild.

When allowed to grow and thrive under these ideal situations, the Sabrecat can indeed become at least a supporting movement in a glorious sympthony of death and destruction. It can only be hoped that in time the species will continue to evolve and overcome its own short comings before more are lost. At the moment it is estimated that at least 4 Sabrecat kittens lose their minds every week.

Please, adopt a Sabrecat and give it the love and attention it needs to viciously eviscerate all those in its path.

There are several breeds of Sabrecat, they are as follows...

Monofang'd Sabrecat (Also known as the Sidewinder, Sidebiter, Tooth Ache or One Tooth Tabby)

The most common breed, this type of Sabrecat has regonized it lacks the front on jaw power required to make use of its carnivous beaver like teeth. Thus it focuses on the one thing it is good at, chewing with only the side of its mouth. It will still attempt to attack with its full on jaw occasionally, but it is considered a secondary concern to assaulting foes with one fang at a time.

Known Calls
"Can you turn around for a sec? Why? Well I'd like to actually get a chance to USE my 50 Blades style."
"<Evades> oh, I'm sorry, is this your arrow?"
"<Evades> Whoa doggy! Well I'll be damned, didn't even see you back there."
"Spider senses....tingling....<evades>"
"Hah! Prepare to feel the wrath of my whirling steel! <flurries> ......so...um....still standing I see.....well...er...no, no, that was all of it, yeah."
"Rest assured no matter what you do to me, I probably have something that will chain off it."
"Can't touch this! Da da da dum...da dum...da....what?"
"Death cometh! ....but its on a timer."


Shielded Sabrecat (Also known as the Untouchable.)

Unlike other breeds, this one has opted for a defensive route, and a dangerous one it is. While incapable of even full on bites, the Shielded Sabrecat can elude damage like no one's business. Capable of parrying, blocking and evading attacks from any direction, it is a nightmare to have to deal with on the field.

Of course, once a hit lands it doesn't take it as well as say a Dancing Moose. But, it does possess a variety of abilities it can use to protect and guard its adopted groupmates.

On the other hand, it possesses face breaking and stunning capabilities similar to the ferret like Studded Slinker, and should be contended with as such.

Known Calls
"<evades> Damn, that looked like quite a fall you took, but I don't think lifebane works on dirt."
"If I evade, I'll chain, if I block, I'll chain, if I parry, I'll chain, if you actually hit me....I'll cry."
"Omni-directional, untouchable defense. 360 degrees of sleek, effortless evasion. You cannot touch me, I will thwart your feeble efforts without even working up a sweat. I will.....ok, the fact my face is on fire tells me you're a caster. Fair enough."
"Yes, that scratchy irritation you have in your throat? Thats your nose. No, I will not dislodge my shield from your frontal lobe."


Dual Sabrecat (Also known as the Chomper, the Celtic Dualer or simply, Candidate for a Respec Stone)

This breed didn't heed the advice and caution of its elders, and focused on developing a front on bite with both teeth. It believed that surely, once fully trained they could possess the jaw power to do comparible damage to other sabre species?

This breed often wears a cloak so you can't see it weeping.

Known Calls
"Celtic Dual...Left Axe....Celtic Dual.......Left Axe........Celtic...<sob>"
"Hmph! My damage styles scale fine thank you....<sniffle>...they do....<choke>...I'm ok..I'm ok..."
"Hah! I just faced a Zerker one on one.........yeah you read that right, rez at MWE."
"I will not respec! I am a MASTER OF BLADES! Not one! TWO! I am their MASTER! I am.....I am...I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry.....oh shoot, does anyone have a tissue?"

Except from the DaoC Wilderness Guide,
- Aelhaeran

 

[Aran Thule]

DaoC Wilderness Guide: Albion: Mastermind, Robe-Crested

Perhaps the single most misunderstood and confused of all Robe-Crested species, the Mastermind is a difficult creature to comprehend, let alone work with. Like all members of the Robe-Crested family, it is physically weak, often succumbing to every day hazards such as a strong gust of wind. But, like all members of the species, it has a variety of other powers and capabilities, which, in theory, make up for this lack of physical prowess.

It isn't entirely understood how the Mastermind came about, but the most popular theory is that it developed its unique attack patterns by observing other members of its species. On one hand, some of its cousins were capable of delivering bolts of magical power at a range, on the other, some of its cousins fashioned minions out of thin air to serve and protect them.

The Mastermind figured by combining the two, it would achieve the ultimate offense. Instead, it achieved a pattern of attack so ridiculous that other species, even ones in the same realm, often have trouble understanding it let alone utilizing its capabilities.

You see, the Mastermind had a vision. A vision of creating a glorious army of terrible little automotons that would charge off into combat to do its devious bidding. Overwhelming the enemy with sheer numbers and single minded determination. Sadly, this vision was not to be. In effect, the Mastermind fashions all manner of strange little beast to attack its foes. However, the fact that they all have a lifespan of a candle in a hurricane put a crimp on the Mastermind's otherwise damn fine plan.

Determined to make his tiny army of devout minions a realty, the Mastermind will summon as many as is possible in combat to send after his foes. But rather then a small scale, destructive personal army, they come off as more of a lumpy, multicoloured lynch mob that periodically dies when exposed to air.

The Mastermind does possess a variety of other abilities to assist it, most notably, some species possess a type of physical invunerability to attacks similar to the Hibernian Bubble Kitten. Though rarely as effective. The ability is typically weaker, and when actually confronted with physical combat, the Mastermind tends to die like a dog even with the periodic invunerability warding off some blows.

But none of this has done anything to diminish the Mastermind's natural, if misplaced, ingeniuety. Often times it will develop or invent new techniques that seem like a good idea in theory, but end up lacking in practice.

For instance, the Mastermind has the ability to increase its speed of physical attack. This way its vicious frontal melee attacks, which can be compared to slapping opponents with wet parchment, can be increased. Thus making them comparable to slapping opponents with wet parchment really fast.

This type of swift frontal assault is very annoying to larger more melee orientated species, as it may break a rival species concentration as they busy themselves trying to remove their weapon from the Mastermind's ribcage.

Other abilities include actually crippling and slowing down an opponents rate of attack. This can give the Mastermind the precious extra seconds required to run away and hide in a tree from melee attackers. Though its of more assistence when used to help out its fellow Albion species in combat. This ability isn't really a "power" persay, its actually a high pitched, pitiful cry that inspires sympathy in attackers, making them lose their will to gut the Mastermind like a trout quite as fast as before.

There are several breeds of Mastermind, they are as follows.

Frigid Mastermind (Aka Mr Coldsnare, or Captain Icy Roots.)

This is a fairly common species, and generally focuses its abilities on hindering opponents. By making use of its inherent freezing magics, this breed of Mastermind can snare and root its foes with icey tentacles of inconvience. Praying it slows them down long enough for its fellow species to dispatch them.

Against a single target, the Frigid Mastermind will summon up a small mob of icey beasties, who's sole purpose in exsistence is to run up and freeze the pants of a target before randomly dying off themselves. This brutal pants freezing attack is capable of doing ranged damage, especially to opposing male species, who have great difficulty surviving the shock of having their dangly boy bits suddenly encased in ice. Victims of this brutal and inhuman method of attack will also find it difficult to walk or run with their sensitive nether regions entering an ice age.

Known Calls
"Awww...isn't that cute, he's trying to run away. Well, hobble away."
"Pfft, who says Theurgists are weird and useless. I can target a bottle of wine and BAM, my little boys make that baby chilled. The ladies love it."
"Yeah baby, MY little minions are bigger then those silly other Theurgist's."
"Hahaha! Yes! GO FORTH MY MINIONS! Crush! Destroy! Kill! .....Get back up! What the hell is wrong with you?"
"See? I have an entire army of destructive little minions at my command, other casters only get one pet. I can summon hordes of......god dammit, sec, lemme summon some more."
"You can do all sorts of things with ice spec. Like this one time, my cousin got a black eye, and asked me for some ice, you know, to keep the swelling down. I was happy to oblige. So anyway, after his funeral.."


Entrancing Mastermind

While not possessing the snaring and rooting capabilties of its cousin, the Entrancing Mastermind is capable of confusing and entrancing all those around it. Well, provided it can go completely unmolested long enough to do so. The actual act of mezmerizing is accomplished not through a payload of instant cast magic like some rival species, but by the Mastermind suddenly dropping their robe and flashing all opponents within visual range. After which point, the Mastermind can then perform some sort of exotic dance, such as the Macarena, to extend the duration of the effect.

Perhaps a tad more useful is the Entrancing Mastermind's unique type of minion. These little bastards aren't quite as tough as their earth brethren, or as big and nuking as their ice cousins, but they know how to do one thing really well. Smack enemies upside the back of the head. This type of bizzarre, unorthodox approach is ironically fairly effective. As the horde of jibbering little man beasts leaps upon an opponent they will attempt to jump up and deliver swift, brutal smacks upside the back of the head. These well aimed blows can often daze, stun or confuse an opponent. Disorientating him as the lumpy little lynch mob continues to rattle his brain with their smucks upside the head.

Known Calls
"Ok guys, get ready, don't break my mezz. I'm positive I'll actually live long enough to get it off this time."
"You want some o this troll boy?! There ain't nothing under this robe but 97 lbs of pure Avalonian man beef and I'm not afraid to use it!"
"Yes, my entire plan consists of running in their screaming then taking my clothes off. At which point, the rest of you sneak up behind and attack......what, why are you looking at me like that?"
"Well, no, my pets aren't really causing that guy any real damage. But damned if he doesn't have a sore knoggin now, look at those lil bastards go, hahaha. That poor bastard will be here all week.....sigh."
"Oh yeah! SUCK AOE MEZZ.......god dammit, screw you and the instna mez you rode in on. So...any rezzers near AWE?"

Bubblemind (Aka the Bubblebot or merely /broad Anyone selling a respec stone?)

Probably the rarest of all breeds, and the most largely misunderstood, the Bubblemind has actually developed a type of melee invunerability on par with the Hibernian Bubble Kitten. However, by doing so its sacrificed a good deal of its offensive capabilities....ironically, just like the Hibernian Bubble Kitten.

On the other hand, this breed does possesses a type of minion that excels at one thing, and one thing only. Punching you in the ankles. Until you cry. Of course, thats about all they do. But damned if they aren't good at it. No one punchs ankles like an earth pet.

Known Calls
"Repeat after me, PUL-SING BLADE TURN, good. Now what it does..."
"What the hell? Someone that actually KNOWS what PBT is? What are you, an ex-Hib?"
"YOU ONLY GET 10 SECONDS DAMN YOU."
"Don't worry, Scruffy, Iggy, Rocky and Mudbaby will kick that guys ass.....what, of course I name my pets...yes I know they only live for like 30 seconds <sniff> but I'll always remember them."
"<sob> you guys were the best damned little ankle punchers I ever had, but WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DIE?"
"Woot! Hi guys, thanks for the group invite. So what do you want me to do? Run PBT? Gotcha, what else? Nothing? Er...ok...guess I'll go sit over here...<sigh>"
"Ok guys, I gotta go to bed, night.....sigh, fine I'll leave myself logged in with the pbt up...<mutter> dickheads..."
"Hey, the PBT WAS running, don't look at me, you died because you're an idiot, Captain Taunt Monger."

Except from the DaoC Wilderness Guide,
- Aelhaeran

 

[Aran Thule]

DaoC Wilderness Guide: Albion: Firestarter, Robe-Crested (Wizard)

Perhaps one of the most dangerous of all of the Robe-Crested species, the Firestarter, despite its physically weak appearence, is a force of wanton destruction. In fact that's round about all it is. As Firestarters, while walking deliverers of ranged death, generally possess the adaptivity and utility of a carrot.

Born weak, feeble, and relatively sane, the Firestarter's innane connection with the destructive elemental forces around it soon wittles away its precious grip on realty. Early in life it may aggressively go after various small animals, usually finding some kind of blunt object, such as a stick or trimmed branch, with which to flog its prey. Unfortunately, the natural evolution of its inherent powers actually encourages this behaviour, allowing the Firestarter to imbue its chosen beat stick with earthern power. This power tends to help make up for the fact the Firestarter possesses the upper body strength of an malnurished puppy.

When it reachs young adulthood, its destructive powers magnify and branch out into various elemental forces. This is also the point where the thin shred of its sanity finally snaps. Now armed with a variety of abilities designed to do little else but annihilate everything around it, it falls on a downward spiral into wanton violence.

This high damage output is opposed by its relatively low rate of survival. Young Firestarters are quite adept at getting themselves killed in a variety of horrible, unspeakable ways. Sadly, their raging elemental powers often prevent them from realising they are even in any form of danger when they attempt to set the rear end of some salivating death beast aflame.

While capable of focusing and delivering large balls of smoldering death, the Firestarter has absolutely terrible aim. Whether this is due to carelessly or simply being as blind as a bat, is as of yet unknown. A Firestarter is just as liable to hit its target with a bolt of fire as it is to hit a barn half a mile behind it to the left. Entire towns and villages have been known to evacuate when a Firestarter is discovered hunting in the area. Nothing is safe from its laughably bad accuracy, grass, trees, houses, barns, horses, people, clouds, about the only thing that does have a reasonable chance of making it out unscathed is the target itself.

Even a seemingly dorment, docile or domesticated Firestarter is quite dangerous. They have difficulty going for long periods of time without utterly destroying something. Its not uncommon for small animals, sign posts, rocks or other random targets near a seemingly docile Firestarter to suddenly explode in a pillar of searing flame. These outbursts are completely natural for the Firestarter, and he may not even be conciously attempting to set fire to all of creation around him, its simply a force of habit.

When accepting one of these fire crackers into your group, it is best to closely monitor not only their interaction with fellow native species, but their interaction with the surrounding enviroment. While at first the Firestarter's beneficial buffing powers and damage dealing capabilities may seem a great boon...One must always remember that for every 4 or 5 charred corpses a Firestarter leaves behind, there's undoubtably at least one rampaging death beast that is utterly unimpressed with having its tail set aflame. Thus it is very wise to keep reign on the Firestarter when travelling near any type of hostile species capable of tearing apart your party and making balloon animals out of their lower intestines. For the Firestarter requires a lot of willpower to surpress the urge NOT to ignite every living creature it comes upon.

There are several known breeds of Firestarter, though as always, some inter-breeding can be expected. The breeds are as follows...

Flameskipper (Aka Smokey the Burn, the Walking Forest Fire, or Conan the Igniter)

The Firestarter in its purest form, this breed has forgone all other elemental powers in favour of pursuing its much loved ability to set everything on fire. Everything. Nothing is safe. Hide your children and anything remotely combustable.

Situationally speaking, the Flameskipper does not adapt well to anything that does not involve rampent flame induced homicide. It will respond to any and every situation with balls, pillars, sheets, waves and clouds of gloriously burning fire. It is expressly dangerous to both itself and everyone or thing around it. Luckily after around 50 seasons or so, it will grow into its epic pelt. Which is thankfully flame retardent.

It is highly advisable to keep them away from any large bodies of water. When confronted with water, something they can't set on fire, a Flameskipper will become angry and confused. Often remaining in or near said water for days or weeks on end, repeatedly attempting to burn its new found wet advisary. This often leads to exhaustion and occasionally drowning.

Known Calls
"No no, its ok, trust me, eyebrows grow back."
"Sheesh...start a camp fire they said, better find some kindling to get it going they said, OH MY GOD YOU SET THE CLERIC ON FIRE they said...."
"Hey baby, wanna see my fireballs?"
"Oh, yeah sure, ANYTHING will burn, trust me. Even rocks if you keep at it long enough."
"Man you cast ONE little spell and suddenly its this big deal because 500 people are homeless."
"Hobbies? Sure, I've got hobbies...I like to um....er...uh....melt stuff. Yeah."
"Nah, I like my robes, though your scalemail is still pretty cool. Mostly cus after I kill you it'll still be warm enough to roast marshmellows for the next 20 minutes or so."
"Jeebus Christ, would ya look at this epic armour. For God sakes, does anyone have any dye?"
"Heh, yeah, don't worry. My epic robe design will leave an imprint on your retina for the next few minutes. Its ok, it doesn't cause any permanent damage. Well, long as you don't stare at it for more then 30 seconds or so."
"Hah, this is cool. Quick quick, stare at my robe for a few seconds then look at a white wall."


Frostbiter (Aka Captain Ice Ring, Sub-Zero or the Artic Circle)

An unusual breed, but every bit as dangerous as its cousins. The Frostbiter has forgone the fire loving homicidal urges of its fellows and plunged itself into the icy depths of their total opposite.

On the surface, Frostbiters are relatively cool and calm, much like their elemental affinity. But once engaged, they are every bit as destructive and blood thirsty as their counterparts. Possessing of an amazingly destructive point blank wave of icy pain, the Frostbiter has utterly no regard for its own safety. Driven on by its chilling power, a Frostbiter will often attempt to incure the wrath of as many hostile species as possible at a single time, encouraging them to huddle around her and beat her senseless so that she may crush them all with her icy tendrils of death. At least, thats how the plan is formed in her mind, as she tends to disregard the fact it only takes around 2 hits from anything stronger then a wet kitten to end her life.

Once enraged into a killing spree, the Frostbiter ignores physical blows to its person and will demand and secure a constant supply of victims to feed to its artic death rings. Its attack patterns will become erratic, and it may very well charge into entire hordes of enemies seeking to deliver its deathly payload if its group mates cannot provide a constant chain of victims. This tends to put its level of survival on par with the Flameskipper, if not lower.

Known Calls
"ba da ba da da da dum....ba da ba da da da dum....ice ice baby.....what? Its a good song."
"Does the thought of shield spec turn anyone else on? Or is just me?"
"I'm the IceRing on the cake, hah! Get it? IceRing? Cus I have rings, of ice, and stuff....on a cake....screw you guys."
"If I soak my robe in BBQ sauce, ya think we'll get more per pull?"
"Are you taunting? Ha ha, ya, its real funny when the paboe Wizzie bitches about aggo ain't it? We'll see how funny it is when I freeze your boy bits to the inside of your thigh."
"Feed me Seymour. Your name's not Seymour? Well too bad, it is now."
"Heh heh, its like domino's, only with more pain and suffering."
"Look, the more we get per pull, the more exp we get, the faster we level, right?
Right. So stop whining and shove those raw steaks back into your pants and get out there."
"Wait, you're a shield spec'd Paladin with a taunt shout? ......marry me."
"Heh, you don't think a wave of ice is that powerful eh? You'd be surprised how destructive a sudden gust of -70 windchill is when it flies up your pant leg.
"Pfft, you wuss, you only pulled 27?"
"Oh yeah, epic armour baby, wanna taste the rainbow?"


Geowaver

Perhaps the most underrated and confused of all breeds, the Geowaver forwent the destructive power of both ice and fire in favour of the utility of earth. Sadly, utility is about the only thing this poor soul has going for him. While capable of decent crowd control, the Geowaver is a huddled wreck of a species. Spending most of its time trying to convince its fellows it actually has a viable spec template.

Unable to truely focus its concentration on a single target, the Geowaver simply attacks general areas, hoping its enemies trip or stumble into its area of effect. While this may seem quite viable, its merely an effective way for the Geowaver to piss off multiple foes in a single cast.

On the plus side, the Geowaver DOES have a rather powerful damage shield that sears all who attempt to physically attack it. But sadly, in order to have the shield actually kill anyone, they'd have to hit the Geowaver around 50 or 60 times. Which, by comparison, the Geowaver can only live through about 2, 3 if his attacker has a cramp.

Known Calls
"Ya know, we could slaughter those mids on the doors if we blanketed them with GTAOE. Oh wait, I forgot, we can't, BECAUSE I'M THE ONLY DAMN EARTH WIZARD HERE."
"Well they DID give me a bolt to make my spec more viable. So yeah, I can kick some ass now. Provided that ass is like...asleep, in a field, 40 miles from any kind of combat."
"YOU MAY STRIKE ME DOWN! But I shall quick cast my DoT upon ye and damn will ye have a mighty rash to contend with! TASTE MY WRATH!"
"Well I DO have a direct damage + snare AE spell. If you can hold off that pack of raging Berzerkers for 15, 20 minutes or so that should give me enough time to cast it on em."
"Hah! Rooted! How ya like that ya bastards! Now, long as no one AE's them we can....YOU STUPID ASS FIRE WIZZIE!"
"You know...I've given it a lot of thought....and I just don't think I'm "teh uber" I thought I was."
"GTAOE? Ya, I COULD use that, if I had a target. Here's a lawndart, go groundassist for me."

Excerpt from the DaoC Wildlife Guide,
- Aelhaeran

 

[Aran Thule]

DaoC Wilderness Guide: Hibernia: Perennial Lynx (Druid)

Shy, elusive, and majestic, the Perennial Lynx roams the deep emerald forests of Hibernia. Rarely seen alone, this troublesome species is so coveted that it is rare indeed to catch one away from its pack. In fact, while the Perennial Lynx may seem like easy prey at first glance, one must always be wary. Even if the Lynx does not appear to be running with a pack, chances are it is on its way to join a pack, or has a pack following close behind it spamming it with group invites.

Thus is the enigma of the Perennial Lynx. At first glance it's shimmering arcanite pelt and apparent natural weaponary may indicate that it is a predator. However, few of its fellow species will fall for this masqurade. Even fewer still can comprehend why a Perennial Lynx may roam alone, and often insist it join their pack, or any pack. Because Heavens forbid they should be going solo, Lynx can't solo. Nope, not at all. They MUST have a pack. Sadly, the solitary Perennial Lynx roams alone specifically because it can't bleeding stand its realm mates bothering it all the time.

Like its fellow naturalist cousins, the Perennial Lynx is adept at supporting and healing its pack mates. Unlike them however, it excels specifically at this role. Making it highly coveted, persued, invited, bothered, annoyed, pissed off and bitchy. If a Perennial Lynx isn't using its /anon camoflouge abilities, it may very well be at the recieving end of every whine, plea, bitch, piss and moan from every hurt and or smote fellow species within 50 miles.

Why is this majestic creature so highly coveted? Simply, unlike its two cousin naturalist species, the Perennial Lynx is capable of the most powerful supportive abilities of any species native to its habitate. These amazing powers of buffing, cheerleading and mascoting are greatly desired by every other native species. Every pack wants at least one Perennial Lynx in the back row whoopin up the cheers for the team, and tending to their boo boo's afterwards. Even if the Lynx itself has a vastly different idea of entertainment.

The Lynx possesses healing abilities far beyond its two cousins, and is capable of healing even death itself. Unfortunately, this sometimes reduces any fellow species near it into plantively mewing kittens at the slightest injury. While reduced to this state, even a minut injury like biting their tongue or stubbing their toe will have them pitifully crawling back to the Lynx screaming like they were stabbed. Either that or running in circles squeeling like a school girl covered in live rats for the Lynx to tend to their wounds.

Obviously, because of pressure within the social structure, its not that uncommon for the Lynx to develop pyschological problems. Deep pyschological problems. But then again, that seems to be a running theme among it and its cousin species. Unlike its native cousin, the Bubble Kitten, which expresses its mental imbalances in a constant, unabiding homicidal rage, the Lynx attempts to stay calm. Burying its desire to maim and kill as best it can. Unfortunately, this can lead to violent outbursts, sudden attacks, or a passive aggressive tendency to simply "forget" to heal its realm mates.

Its primary enemies within its own lands are the heavier melee species, and any member of the Slinker family. Both of these families of species require and/or demand hot buttery buffage from the Lynx. Specifically Slinker species, who need/desire such buffage so much, they may even venture into the wild themselves to capture a young Perennial Lynx cub to serve as a slav..er...buffbitc..<cough> COMPANION. Once ensnared, these young Lynx are trained to follow their master around like ducklings. Ducklings with the mental capability and reaction time of a mullusk, but ducklings just the same.

Secretly, deep within its heart, the Perennial Lynx longs for approval. It desires someone or thing to cheer it on and support it, like it itself does for its realm mates. To this end, the Lynx often befriends younger, weaker species of animals, such as wolves or other lynx, to be their own personal mascot. Occasionally, they;ve been known to somehow charm and animate plantlife. A tactic which, despite its obvious weakness, tends to frighten and disturb opposing species. Because dammit, a tree with a face just isn't right.

These happy go lucky, mindless pets will obediently tail around after their master. Despite the fact their owner often leads them through places they have about as good of a chance of survival in as they have of successfully peeing upwind in a hurricane.
Such pets are often affecionately named by the Lynx. Usually with titles like "Binky Oneshot", "Kiki Ubergrey", "Readymade Firewood" or "Mobile Coatrack".

But even these cute mascots are not always enough to offset the deep pyschological trauma inherent in most Perennial Lynx. Occasionally, without any warning what so ever, a Lynx will suddenly lash out in a homicidal rage comparable to a Bubble Kitten. Often times, barreling past its realm mates and into the middle of a fight, brandishing teeth and aracanite pelt like a true warrior species. Unfortunately, its not a true warrior species, but it, much like its Bubble Kitten cousin, will freaking try its damnest to kill, maim and destroy once lost in a battle fury.

This usually leads to severe injury. But like its Bubble cousin, the Lynx can be surprisingly hard to kill. Unlike the Kitten, which avoids damage, the Lynx simply absorbs it. Few other species can take an ass whipping quite as well as the Perennial Lynx. Every time you beat it down till surely its brain is leaking out its ears, it suddenly perks right back up, completely unharmed and latches itself onto your throat again. Granted it does around as much damage as a toothless dog trying to gum its way through a tree, but over time it has been known to leave hickys. This sinister method of attack may cause the victim's ultimate and painful demise when he or she returns home to their mate. It may take several vicious beat downs before the Perennial Lynx *finally* stops moving. Be warned if you leave the Lynx alone for even a few seconds, it may miraculously recover, yet again, forcing you to beat it down all over again. Over time, applying a vicious beating to the Lynx may wear you down or cause sprains, or even joint stiffness. Once exhausted, your immune system is weakened, this is when the Lynx becomes to most dangerous. Its saliva is absolutely teeming with infectious disease, and if given too much time, its quite possible you will contract some kind of horrific, poisoning illness. In which case you may surprisingly find yourself not only half dead, but with a hicky to boot.

Perhaps one of the most unusual, but tide turning abilities the Perennial Lynx can employ during a pitched battle is "Puppy Dog Eyes". Yes, thats right, "Puppy Dog Eyes." These tear-filled, heart wrenching, "Please don't kill me" spheres of pity have been known to root entire armies to the spot. While they can still move their arms, once engaged with The Eyes(tm), they won't be able to budge an inch. For fear of the fact that if they move, they might inadvertantly hit the adorable Lynx with the wind from their blood stained weapons of death and destruction. Thus making the poor, cute thing even more sad then it already is. Unfortunately, this effect is very powerful and after a while enemies thus entranced will regain their courage. At this point, still enraptured with the Lynx's adorability, they may chase the Lynx down and try to pet, stroke and sooth it with their blood stained weapons of death and destruction.

There are several breeds of Perennial Lynx, though inter-breeding is quite common among this species.

Cheerleader Lynx (Also known as the Nurture Lynx, the Group Mascot, Hot Buttery Buffage Dispenser or simply Buffbot.)

This Lynx has chosen to strengthen and pursue its mighty cheerleading abilities. With its adorable good looks and cute dispostion, its capable of pushing the performance of its group mates 200%. Well, half of its group mates anyway. Its not very focused, and lacks the concentration among its rousing cheers to maintain focus on all of its group mates at once. But oh well, if they die the Lynx can just revive them anyway, so no lose. The only real drawback is the sheer amount of time required for the Cheerleading Lynx to complete its intial movitational cheer for the entire group. As the Lynx insists on coming up with a unique set of cheers for each member of the group.

Sadly, this particular breed is almost extinct. With most known members of it being in captivity, trained to follow around other species for hot buttery buffage and/or adorability.

Known Calls
"Dude...what the heck...I just checked this screen...are you hitting on my buffbot?"
"Pssh, controlling two computers at once is easy. All you have to.....dammit, hang on, I have to go rez myself."
"What? No, I'm not a buffbot. I really spec'd this way. ...no seriously. I'm not a....oh screw you."
"Hmm? Yeah, I know acuity buffs are sort of pointless on a Hero. But I was hoping that even with the enormous drag factor of your mental cabilities I could get your IQ up to a positive number."
"Buffs fade, stupid is forever."
"Heh heh, yeah, the little bastard's grey, but with my buffs, he has 3000 hp."
"Wha? What do you mean I'm not a pet class?"
"Hang on guys, buffing my puppy, then I'll get to you."
"Damn guys, whats with you? Why do you two Heros keep cancelling my brain buff thingy? ...yeah I got this char off eBay, so what?"
"Hey, don't knock this spec! I get ALL the chicks. All the stealthing chicks......who are really guys sitting at a computer.....do you have a respec stone?"


Immortal Lynx (Aka the Regrowth Lynx, Spread Healer, Instant Monger or simply First To Lop, Last to Die.)

This breed has focused all its attention on its healing capabilities, and thus is capable of healing practically anything. Well, except stupidity, which leads to it having to heal practically anything to begin with. Probably the most helpful, but most unappreciated of any breed, the Immortal Lynx is the most likely to viciously assault its own realm mates at random. In fact, it may opt to assault realm mates over enemy species.

However, it is far more dangerous when being passive aggressive. As little "slip ups" and "accidents" may occur to members of the group that agitate this noble breed. Thus it is best to treat this breed with the utmost appreciation and respect. Unless you like the taste of dirt that is.

Known Calls
"Oh, I'm sorry, I couldn't uh...heal fast enough yeah!"
"Hmm? Oh. <cough> you were uh...out of range."
"What do I need to LEASH you to get you to stay in healing range?"
"Ok, look, lets get one thing straight. I have a limited amount of power, and I can only heal so fast. I CAN save you from being beaten to death for a couple minutes. I CAN'T save you from being digested by the Dragon."
"I'm sorry, I'd love to heal you but my power bar has gone on strike. It says it won't come back till you surrender your taunt key."
"You realise my pet is grey right? Much as you like to think he can tank a Shredder add, he can't. No I won't rez you."
"Sec, I'll ressurecting you once I get some power back......Oh ya, ha ha, I said "erect". Thats hilarious, yeah. I hope you like the taste of dirt, ass."
"Actually its far more economical for me to watch you get savagingly beaten to death, then rez you to 100% afterwards then it is for me to try and heal you during. More entertaining too."
"You know, its easier to heal you if you stop running in a circle like you have a rabid cat up your ass."
"HEAL ME PLZ KTHX BYE~! What? Oh, no no, I wasn't making fun of you. I was just making sure I had correctly recorded your request."
"Ow...son of a bitch...ugh...wait...wait...I'm not quite dead yet....in fact, I think I'm getting better!"



Raving Lynx (Aka the Nature Lynx, Rooter Lynx or simply Groupless.)

Seasons worth of anguish at the hands of its realm mates has spiralled this breed down a path of violence. Rivalling the Bubble Kitten in terms of blood lust, the Raving Lynx craves only the inflicting of pain and suffering. It looks, feels and acts like a real warrior, but hits like an angry 6 year old.

Ironically, this breed can be halfway dangerous if encountered alone and allowed to get in close. Out of all 3 breeds, this breed possesses the single most bacteria ridden saliva out of any of em. Its poisonous, disease dripping, salivating maw may take a couple chews to actually puncture skin, but once it does watch out. Like a hangover from the very pit of Hades itself, the Raving Lynx's saliva will make you regret living.

Sadly, this also limits the Raving Lynx's choice of romantic partners to those that possess Cure Poison.

Known Calls
"I AM THE ORIGINAL BD! I AM....BATTLE DRUID!"
"Hey, you guys need a Druid? Ya, I'm nature spec'd so.....hello?"
"Well no, I may not SEEM that dangerous, but if you get 5 of us together in a group.....we can form Voltron."
"Pfft, if I wanted to heal I'd have rolled a....a....er....dammit."
"Well...see what I was going to do is first, I'm going to sic my pet on him. Then while he's REELING from the ankle nibbles, I'll poison him with my DoT, then I'll run up and futilely start slapping him like a little girl. I'm hoping the combined frustration will make him give up, or at least cry."
"I am Galador, Druid of Battle! and this is my Wolven companion Binky! Careful, don't sneeze on him, you might kill him."
"Dude! Come on! I know he's green, but damn I can hang like anything off him. He's like my little Ikea tree."
"I have to summon my pet again, hang on.....wha? oh...er..uh..yeah, well you see I was just going off to the woods for a little tinkle, and you know Binky, always following me around. Well I guess I wasn't watching where I was aiming and....er....<cough> Sec, I'll summon a new pet."
"I resent that remark that I couldn't even kill time. I can kill time just fine! See?Binky can do tricks."
"Buf..f..age? What are these..."buffs" you speak of?"
"Oh no, no no, deary me. That spurting flesh wound is a bit past my abilities. Bring me some folk with papercuts though and I'll show ya some miracles."

Except from the DaoC Wilderness Guide,
- Aelhaeran

 

[Aran Thule]

(Satire) DaoC Wilderness Guide: Albion: Shepard, Jocund (Minstrel)

Playful, carefree and affectionate, the Jocund Shepard, despite being a member of the canine family, is docile and practically domesticated. Unlike its lupine brothers and sisters, the Shepard doesn't tend to react aggressively when intially encountered. Quite the opposite in fact. Roaming through the ranges of the Pennine Mountain's, this jovial species is equally at home alone or in a pack. With its innate ability to move like a cat on fire, its often been known to cover great distances in short periods of time. Sometimes showing up in places and enviroments where you'd least expect to encounter one.

Sadly, its greatest personality trait often ends up being the reason for its short life span. Playful by nature, the Shepard may not regonize predators as actual threats. In fact, it may very well go out of its way to attempt to play with a predator, no matter how hard the predator is obviously trying to kill it. Of course, due to its incredible rate of speed, it can often harrass, annoy and tire out a predator by simply running circles around it. Delighting in the pursuit. Granted, the Shepard may not realise the predator is trying to chase him down and gut him like a trout. In the Shepard's mind, they're just playing a game of tag. With sharp objects.

Unknown to the Shepard, it's high pitched, playful bark can actually daze predators. Leaving them off balance and immobile for some time before they recover their senses. During such a time, the Shepard may run circles around the dazzed predator, play pranks on them, or engage in elaborate riverdance routines. This is often enfuriating, and will cause a predator to become even more homicidal. Which tends to magnify the sheer amount of pain and suffering that will be inflicted if the predator actually manages to catch the Shepard.

If by some small miracle the Shepard actually realises its in danger, it will generally employ one of three distinct strategies. It may opt for "Prayer", "Relying on glorious dumb luck" or simply "Running like a scared little girl at mach 5.". If actually cornered and forced to fight, it will default to the first two strategies. In direct physical combat, the Shepard is somewhat sub-par. It will randomly jump between strokes of dumb luck that let it amazingly avoid incoming attacks and being brutally beaten about the head and neck area.

Often times its physical capabilities alone are not enough to actually defeat an attacking predator. In these cases, it may employ a peculiar tactic. With its cheery nature and general friendliness, the Shepard can often times charm other native species into assisting it. Its not that uncommon to see a Jocund Shepard wandering around, being tailed by some docile salivating deathbeast, ready to do its bidding. Well, sometimes anyway. Due to its playful nature, the Shepard may end up simply attempting to find the most ridiculous or goofy creature it can find to assist it. Rather then attempting to find the most dangerous. A Shepard will likely choose a 3 eyed purple flying squirrel with a thyroid problem over a salivating draconian lizard monster. Granted, in rare cases this can also lead to express shame and embaressment when the squirrel actually manages to defeat you by viciously latching onto your left nostril until you say "uncle".

In some cases, the Shepard, confused by the ineffectiveness of its purple squirrel assassin's, may dazz a predator with another bark to sit them still while it moves off to find yet another friend to assist it. Since it has little tactical sense, it will throw practically anything it can find and charm at the dazzed predator, effective or not. Ensnared in such a fashion, you may find yourself having to defeat the purple squirrel, followed by several sheep, a ferret, two crickets, a 3 legged mule named Joe and someone's Aunt Betty before you manage to get a shot in at the Shepard itself. If somewhere during this process you manage to recover before the Shepard returns with its next circus freak, its recommended you hobble off and hide behind something to recover. As the Shepard can easily catch up to you if you leave yourself somewhere out in the open where it can spot you.

Ironically, in addition to its ability to flee at the slightest hint of danger, it also possesses the ability to camoflouge itself in its surroundings. This is effective enough to hide it from most common species. But any member of the Slinker family will probably spot the Shepard from a mile off and come say hi with its teeth. So this innate stealthing ability is commonly only used to better facilitate playing practical jokes on non-Slinker species. Routines like "pretending to go away when their really just getting out of sight to stealth so they can come back and grab your butt by surprise" or "sitting down and pretending to log while your mezzed but really just stealthing" are common favourites.

When it comes to groups, the Jocund Shepard is a rather welcome addition. Its cheery nature and wealth of Tae Bo excerise routines will inspire and whip a group into shape until everyone can run like a bat out of hell. Of course it will probably still be found huddling somewhere in the back humming show tunes during actual combat, but that's beside the point.

Recently, new developments in the behaviour of the Shepard has shown evidence of climbing. However, the reasons for this are not yet clear. As thus far, the Shepard has been using this ability to climb straight into the lair's of various Robe-Crested and Slinker species. Which typically results in its gloriously painful demise. Also, Shepard's have started showing evidence of a feline like ability to break its fall, reducing potential risk of injury. However, unlike a cat, which always lands on its feet, the Shepard typically lands on its face, arse or spine. Occasionally bouncing once or twice after hitting the ground. But due to the fact it seems to have a slinky for a spine and a metal bucket for a skull, its become fairly adept at avoiding critical injury from gravity.

There's actually not a lot of variance in the Shepard genepool when it comes to different breeds. Take that anyway you want.

Known Calls
"GO SPEED RACER! GO SPEED RACER! GO! ......well what did you think the lyrics to Speed of Sound were?"
"Woot, 30 more minutes until I can do something effective again!"
"RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY!"
"Well, mez might SEEM useful. But getting Mez'd by a solo Minstrel is sort of like being handcuffed by a 4 year old. Sure, you can't move, but your life isn't exactly in danger either."
"3 seconds to mez her, 29 seconds to run before she realises I just coped a feel."
"This is the song that doesn't end! YES IT GOES ON AND ON MY FRIENDS! Some people, started singing it not knowing what it was, and they'll keep on singing it no matter just because this is the song that doesn't.....so, you ready to let me do something besides sit here and be a song bot? Or should I keep on playing?"
"I'm....too sexy for ma chain, too sexy for ma chain, so sexy its plain."
"Does anyone know how best to escape 8 angry Mids in 29 seconds or less? .....anyone? Make that 15 seconds."
"No, that wasn't a speed bump, it was the sound barrier."
"Remove mezmerize...what sort of retarded spell is this. Lets see, 3 seconds to unmezz one party member or 1 second to lean over and harshly pinch his ass for the same effect."
"Minstrel, Minstrel, rolly polly Minstrel. Minstrel, Minstrel, farm them up, yum. Ask a Minstrel, anything you want to, they won't answer, they're just bots."
"Well, they DID give me this cool Frisbee for becoming a minstrel anyway. A mean, Frisbee's are....what? You mean this is my shield?!"
"Never made it as a paladin. I couldn't cut it as buffer givin' Tired of playin like a song bot. I'm sick of stealth without a chance of livin'. This is how you remind me.....This is how you remind me of how gimpy I am."
"Yeah, I'll die like a dog, but I'll die like a dog AT THE TOP OF A WALL I CLIMBED!"
"Hmm....do you think I can get Stairway to Heaven out of this lute?"
"I'm just a Minstrel, nobody loves me. He's just a Minstrel, from a poor class is he! Spare him his life from this ganking by 3!"
"....there I was, all alone, one on one with a Nightshade. After spec'n to 50 Thrust, then months of RvR to get Dodger 5.....it happened. The one moment I'd been waiting for all my life. I actually EVADED, and clicked Dragonfang. Of course, the Shade evaded it..."
"Music soothes the savage beast....granted, it didn't sooth the raging homicidal death beast, but savage beasts, no prob."
"Muahha, 50+11 Music. My DD shouts now require a full TWO aspirin to heal the damage from."
"Yeah, having the instrument as two handed sort of spoils any fun you might have. But don't worry, next patch Mythic is giving us a 3rd arm growing out of our forehead, so we can at least wield a weapon while we play pow song."
"Nae, I was but playin a tavern the other eve, when some odd lad dressed in black did make a request of me for me next song. Ever since then I've be questing to find me the lyrics to some song called "Iron Man""
"I've got a lovely bunch of respect stones, deedle dee dee. See them all sitting in a row. Class one's, realm one's, some as big as yer head!"
"Well no, I couldn't actually kill him. But I kept him chain mez'd for an hour and a half."
"Nae, I barely made it through the second refrain of "Its a small world" when the entire tavern suddenly ganked me."
"Easy for you to say, your class title isn't "Spice Girl""
"Well, we finally translated that Nordic song we found and dared Bob to sing in the middle of Odin's last week to those Troll zerkers. The title of it was something to the effect of "Like a Virgin", and it might explain why he's been walking funny ever since."
"Jeebus, I like the added protection and all, but I think I might go back to leather armour. You ever had chainmail ride up? Oh man."

Excerpt from the DaoC Wilderness Guide,
- Aelhaeran of Percival.
(Cudos if you catch all the song lyrics)

 

[Aran Thule]

DaoC Wilderness Guide: Albion: Falcon, Silvered (Paladin)

Making its home in the roving hills of Pennine, the Silvered Falcon is a regal, majestic, expressly shiny creature. Noble in spirit, the Falcon can be a great boon to members of its group. Make no mistake however, the Falcon isn't there to go mindlessly bellowing into battle covered in sweat, blood and grime like the rest of you dirt farmers. Oh no, the Falcon's primary purpose in life is to look impressive and intimidating. Even if it doesn't live up to either in actual physical confrontations.

With its mighty silver plummage, so bright that the slightest hint of light is reflected back like the searing deathray's of a 1000 suns, the Falcon is out there to be noticed. This is probably for the best, as the actual physical capabilities it brings to the field for the purpose of combat are relatively unimpressive. While it may throw itself into battle with the righteous rage of the deadly eagle, its actual damage output is more or less along the lines of a moderately intoxicated chick-e-dee. Typical injuries resulting from a Falcon attack are along the lines of scratches, scrapes and hurt feelings.

It's mighty plummage is its primary advantage in all aspects of its life. Thus many hours will be spend preening this plummage to keep it in optimum condition. While the rest of its group may need to stop periodically to refresh their own buffing capabilities, the Falcon need only bother with preening itself. The sheer, burning glare off the Falcon in direct sunlight is so powerful it is actually capable of blinding enemies, rendering them useless in combat. By the time their eyesight recovers, the Falcon may very well have inflicted enough damage to merit a band-aid and some name calling. Thus it is best to not look directly at the Falcon for extended periods of time to avoid long term damage to one's eye sight. Enamelling the Falcon down to darker colours, or draping it in a black cloak are helpful known treatments for "Falcon Blindness".

When engaged in combat, the Falcon is actually rather ferocious and will fight like Hell unleashed upon the unsuspecting mortals in the realm of the living. Granted, while it often composes up to 98.7% of it's group's ferocity and aggression, it typically only accounts for about 2.4% of the group's actual damage output capabilities. This isn't to say the Falcon is totally useless in the wild, far from it. Its sheer impressiveness is often enough to inspire its fellows to fight longer, heal faster and take less damage. Certain breed's can even shield others from attacks behind their mighty wings. While capable of flight, the Falcon does not actually fly. It perfers to travel on the ground where you can bask in its glory and be amazed by the fact it COULD fly if it wanted to. But because it is so noble, it chooses to walk along the ground with the rest of you soil suckers.

Falcon's are occasionally somewhat territorial, and encounters between two hostile Falcon's will result in an elaborate combatative dance routine. Which is often accompanied by impressive light shows. If an actual fight breaks out between two Falcon's, its best to dig in and set up camp, as a victor may not become apparent for several days. Combining the Falcon's relatively weak physical capabilities with its relatively strong recuperate capabilities makes for fight that may as well amount to two angry little kids slapping each other with wet toilet paper till someone loses an eye.

Part of its inspirational abilities come from the variety calls and songs its capable of emitting, much like any other bird. These songs vary in length and effect, but can inspire and uplift the hearts of those that hear them. Normally anyway. Older, more grizzled Falcon's often begin to succumb to a deteriorating mental condition known as "Twisting". Typical symptoms of "Twisting" are a tendancy to change song's seemingly at random, often midway through, resulting in a cacophony of noise that sounds like someone flogging a turkey with a cowbell. The Falcon perfers to make its home in areas that have lots of roving hills and impressive scenary. The more impressive the scenary, the more dramatic and impressive the Falcon will look when it stands there. Often times, the Falcon will either be the first one charging into combat, or the last one, standing on the ridge with the wind blowing dramatically behind them, surveying the charge of his "troops" and inspiring fear into the enemy.

When engaged, the Falcon has similar attack patterns to species such as the Bubble Kitten. Namely, it will select a target and viciously launch itself at it, attacking with an unrelenting, rightous fury. During this period of attack, the Falcon will squawk madly and buffet its opponent, attempting to scratch the opponent in the face like an angry little girl with press on nails. Sometimes, the Falcon may also latch onto an opponent's scalp, and well, squawk madly and buffet the opponent. Unfortunately, while attacking in this full-on bat $@&% crazy manner, it doesn't typically inflict more pain and discomfort on its target then a hot, humid day inflicts on someone wearing black leather pants. Occasionally, the Falcon might be mistaken for a more dangerous physical species upon first glance (if the glancer doesn't have his retina's seared out anyway), but its Full-On Bat *@&! Crazy Mode method of attack will soon reveal it for what it truely is, the main tank's living dmg add buff.

There are a couple different breeds of Silvered Falcon, they are as follows...

Aegis Falcon (Aka the Shield Paladin, Another Reason Armsmen feel Useless or simply Paladin template that isn't gimped.)

This is the most common breed of Falcon, and possesses all of the Falcon's general traits from its defensive and recuperative capabilities, all the way to its drunken puppy like offensive capabilities.

Known Calls
"I just solo'd a purple Shredder! ...what do you mean how many hours did it take? Pfft, Paladin's aren't THAT bad for damage you know.......<sigh>, ok it took 3."
"What do you mean I wiped out everyone's resist buffs? I was just twistin like you told me too."
"Hah, <starts AF chant> SCREW YOU FRIAR BOY!"
"Hey, uh, guys? Um..can you come kill this Warden? .....its not funny, my hand is getting tired from clicking."
"WTF? No Aura's!? Screw this, I'm going back to Battle.net"
"No, I'm not done polishing. Once I can smile at my armour and see what I had for breakfast, then I'll be done polishing."
"Sigh, earlier this guy fell to his knee's before me. At first I thought he was being overwhelmed by my sheer nobility, but then he started lookin at my armour and screaming THE GOGGLES! THEY DO NOTHING!"
"Shut your mouth, pink is a MANLY colour for platemail!"
"Well, we were about half way through acting out the witch burning scene from Monty Python's Search for the Holy Grail when the Sorc went LD and the duck aggro'd on us."
"Sigh, another young paladin with a tragic case of MCTBC, More Chants Then Brain Cells."
"Its not a man skirt to keep my butt from rusting, its a KILT!"
"I can't help but feel like my epic armour should be adorned on a figurine on the hood of a Chevy."
"Only when you have learned to swagger to such a degree it looks like you're being pulled forward by your genitals will you truely be a Paladin."
"I don't care if you don't think Paladinette is a word, it IS now."
"It'd be really cool if like, I could power up like on Dragonball Z, and like, my sword would glow with holy power and I could crush demonic fiends with but a wave of my.....right right, shut up and twist."
"Ok, so the justification for my damage output is I devoted some of my time to the church rather then all of it to arms training. I think I need to pick my training classes better, since I obviously skipped out on "How Not To Hit Like A Little Girl" in favour of going to Church."
"Ok how come the Friars are allowed to laugh when the Father says he's going to his Rectory and we're not?"

Broad Falcon (AKA the 2 Hander, The Gimp or the Paladin everyone makes when they're a n00b.)

This type of Falcon trades in its defensive capabilities in favour of more offense. Which is kind of like trying to fend off a grizzy bear with a pillow then threatening to use both hands. This type of Falcon is sometimes considered a freak of nature.

Known Calls
"FREEEEEEEEEDOOOOOOOOOOM!"
"Booyah, I got a claymore AND chants, I'm sooo gonna kick some ass now."
"Hah! I will crush you in but one mighty blow! Well...maybe two. Ok, three.......four....."
"Well, I explained my 6 page thesis to the CSR on why he should give me a naked upper body texture, you know, so I can look like Conan, but I don't quite understand what he meant when he told me he hopes I never have children."
"Woot, just like 3d Diablo! Now where's my Might aura?"
"Nah, its ok, by the I finish the dishes my character should be about ready to swing again."
"I'm having trouble finding a Highlander face texture that looks enough like Mel Gibson...."


Excerpt from the DaoC Wilderness Guide,
- Aelhaeran

 

[Aran Thule]

DaoC Wilderness Guide: Mink, Robe-Crested

Probably one of the most pitiful, yet expressly dangerous creatures to roam the wide open spaces of Emain Macha, the Robe-Crested Mink is not a creature to be trifled with. The history of its species has created a rather bizzarre evolution. While apparently cute and cuddly on the surface, the Mink, like many of the Robe-Crested family, posseses a wealth of destructive power in its otherwise feeble little body.

However, in ages past, Minks suffered from very low populations. Mostly due to their natural instincts and strange courtship rituals. Natural instinct would lead the female to play "hard to get", forcing the male to prove he was healthy and worthy through an elaborate courtship ritual. Unfortunately, especially along the Mana Mink breed, this resulted in one or both parties being incinerated or otherwise reduced to charcoal in small thermo-nuclear detonations as over eager Minks tried to show off their abilities to one another.

As population dwindled, potential mates likewise dwindled. Although the landscape around the Mink's natural habitat improved as less forest fires, rubble and small crators occured as less courtship rituals occured. The last remaining few Minks, now desolate and nearing extinction, sucombed to loneliness. Perhaps out of self preservation, or simple desperation, the Mink began to channel its formidable power in a new direction. If it could not find companionship, it would simply CREATE it. Thus was born the common type of Robe-Crested Mink seen today.

Now it is rare to see a Mink without a magically summoned companion in tow. This bizzarre tag team can be expressly dangerous. If you should be unfortunate enough to encounter one, running is NOT recommended. Very few species can outrun the Mink, and running only triggers its natural pursuit instincts. No longer having any outlet, the Mink's dormant courtship instincts, including those related to giving chase, have been reapplied as hunting instincts. Thus at the first sign of flight, you may find yourself snared, tripped up and incinerated into dirt before you know whats happening. Of course, as these are misplaced courtship instincts, you may also find yourself snared, tripped up, then momentarily cuddled or hugged in an affectionate manner before the burning, screaming and death parts ensue.

A Mink and its ever present companion can and do work in tantum against its prey and natural predators. The companion is often so loyal as to sacrifice itself to save the life of its creator. Of course, if the Mink should perish, so to will the companion, being bonded to it. So thats probably pretty good motivation. In addition, once the companion has set its sights on you as a target, there is no escape. Its keen sense of smell, hearing and x-ray vision will find you and track you down. Not even members of the Slinker species are immune to this furry little zealot's gaze. Things such as time, distance, geography, solid objects and reality are of no consequence to the companion when it is in pursuit of a target. The companion is also capable of assuming a variety of roles based on its creator's needs, from guardian, healer, cuddle buddy, guidance couseller, 3 star chef, lifeguard and more, the companion can do it all if required. Well, almost all. In actual field research, the companion was observed as being a little hazy or confused in certain areas. Areas like "Healing", "Listening" and "Managing to walk in a straight line" all showed room for improvement.

Often desired in groups, but rarely fully understood, its not uncommon to find Mink's roaming solo through the wide open frontier lands. They are expressly dangerous one on one and they know it. However, the Mink is very one dimensional, possessing vast amounts of unholy destructive power, but not much else. If it can't burn it, fry it, nuke it or otherwise light it on fire, its pretty much out of options and will become confused. Highly resistent opponents it cannot set on fire such as rivers, lakes, large rocks and dirt tend to befuddle the Mink. It is not entirely uncommon to see members of the Mana Mink breed randomly setting off small thermo nuclear discharges in a confused bid to try and set dirt, air or water on fire without success. Containing a Mink within a resistent dwelling such as a Keep will send it into a state of panic. Unable to cope with so much non-combustable terrain, it will run and throw itself against the nearest wall. Once its pinned against a wall, it will begin setting off eye searing thermo nuclear explosions over and over and over until it either dies or becomes exhausted. Once exhausted, it will run around in a crazed panic before settling into some dark corner somewhere, shaking, to regain its strength.

Like most Robe-Crested species, the Mink's physical capabilities are laughable at best and should not even remotely endanger anyone above the age of 4. Under the age of 4, Mink bites have been known to cause irritance, itching and occasional discomfort (Most apothecary's do carry ointment for this). The Mink's magically created counterpart on the other hand is a different story. Although not by much. While capable of dealing out more physical damage then the Mink itself, the companion is not much more physically equip then the mink. Usually attacking so slow that opponents can practically ignore it and pursue the Mink itself. If committed to melee combat, its not unusual to see the Mink running in a circle, being pursued by a predator, who is being pursued by the companion. This less then dignified defensive technique is about all the Mink has to defend itself if engaged in direct melee combat.

Minks will often develop a deep affection for their companion, however, the magic used to summon their counterparts is not an exact science. Often times, the Mink has little control over the actual outcome of its summonings. This can lead to a single Mink, camped in place, summoning, dismissing and ressummoning companions repeatedly until it once again manages to recall its "favourite" boy or girl. Companion's dismissed in this fashion return to whence they came, where ever that is. But not before flopping over on the ground, twitching and gurgling for a few moments before vanishing. A disturbing and often unsettling display for any non-Mink species nearby.

There are a few different breeds of Mink, though crossbreeding is known to occur, they are as follows:

Mana Mink (AKA Thermo Mink, Suicide Bomber, Most Often Invited To Fins Groups Short of a Warden or Burner of Retinas.)

Sharing the same unhealthy combination of homicidal urges and suicidal tendancies as the Robe-Crested Seizure Bolter, this breed has a short life expectancy. Having focused all of its power into close range nuclear fallout, this breed can be extremely dangerous. Companion's of this breed often live in constant fear of their creator's mental bend towards suicide runs. Nervous and jumpy, Mana Mink companion's may actually run in the opposite direction or pretend not to hear commands in hopes of preserving their lives just a little bit longer. Sadly, they are also commonly blind or on their way there. Attack patterns of this breed rarely take personal safety into account. It can often be seen charging into the very middle of entire packs of enemy species with its fervently praying companion in tow.

Known Calls
"Stop what? PBAOE'n? Why? THERE COULD BE STEALTHERS! I know we're in TNN, whats your point?"
"U-till-a-dee? Nope, notta a clue what you mean, dude."
"Oh baby...oh yeah, right there...thats the stuff....mhzm..huh? wha? Oh, sorry, I was just daydreaming about the game having deformable terrain."
"Nah, I don't summon my companion anymore. last time I did he went "DE PLANE BOSS! DE PLANE!" and I laughed my ass off. Then I got banned for breaking rp. Little bugger."
"Pfft, Bonedancers. Sure he has like 4 times as many pets as I do. But mine isn't naked. Well, yet anywa...(cough)."


Solar Mink (AKA the Light Chanter, Dual Nuker or simply Please God Help My Spec Line.)

An uncommon breed, the Solar Mink has focused all of its power into devestating long range attacks. Which it can augment nicely by having its companion do likewise. This dangerous duo is capable of snaring and reducing a foe to a pleasently warm smear in short order. On the flip side, it really has no other method of attack. In fact, it really has no other method of anything.

Known Calls
"HUAH! Ah ya, now THATS the stuff baby! Or at least it was before the (-249) part."
"I know I have no utility, so I bought a swiss army knife. Now I can nuke AND open stubborn cans. Who says I bring nothing to a group?"
"Wait wait...if I attack speed debuff him, he'll actually hit me HARDER?"
"Right, be sneaky, easy for you to say. If I cast one spell everyone for 50 square miles knows where I am."
"HADOUKEN! ....yeah, I know, not funny anymore."
"I am not a pyromanic. Setting a bunch of lions on fire, then loading them onto a wagon, which is also on fire, and rolling it at the enemy so they get run over by the wagon, and set on fire, then the lions, who are on fire, jump out and eat them alive, while setting them on fire, again, is a perfectly rational plan."
"So lemme see...if I nuke, it gets like (-200), if I stun, determination and what not cuts it down to like 3 seconds....ah screw it. Sic em Binky, I'll go hide under a rock and pray for spam."


Minion Mink (AKA the Enchantment Enchanter, Petzilla or Keeper of The Beast.)

This strange and rare breed of Mink is so enarmoured with its beloved companion that its focused all its power on protecting and strengthening its counterpart. Having been well cared for and giving lots of affection, the companion of this Mink is a force to be reckoned with. Though, sadly, is still mostly ignored in favour of slaughtering the Mink itself first. But, at least you know the companion lived a life full of love and affection. So don't feel to bad when you ignore its pitiful back slapping as you run the Mink through.

Known Calls
"What do you mean you can't rez her? and who are you calling a pet?"
"You better not hurt him, or I'll, I'll....um....uh.....I'll cast a damage add on him again and set him to aggro. THEN YOU'LL BE SORRY"
"Well, yeah, the little guy may only hit for like 40(-27), but he has 3000hp."
"Hey Rocky! Watch me decimate the invading barbarian horde with my focus damage shield!""Again? but that trick never works.""This time for sure!"
"Heh, yeah, we solo'd Legion. RvR? No, no, thats a scary place...we don't go there. Isn't that right Binky?"
"My heart and soul are broken! Sure, she may have only been a 3 foot pointy ear'd keebler elf in a blue robe to you, but to me, she was everything! (sob) My life will never be the same again!.......gimme a minute to regen enough to resummon her."
"I only make her tank 6 Highlords at once because I love her."
"Hah! You think restealthing can save you from me?! Muahahahahahah! NOTHING CAN SAVE YOU FROM ME! NOTHI...er....except maybe Passive mode."
"Well, I was sitting here, trying to think of an appropriate name for 32 lbs of uber enchanted manly Keenbeef in a dress, and thats when it struck me. The Beast."


Excerpt from the DaoC Wilderness Guide,
- Aelhaeran of Percival

 

[Aran Thule]

DaoC Wilderness Guide: Albion: Squirrel, Blueback


Gaining its name from its trademark black fur, which tends to have a blue sheen, the Blueback Squirrel isn't overly imposing. However, with its yellow, beady little gremlin eyes, it does inspire an aura of foreboding. Or at least it would if it was 6 feet taller about 200-300 lbs heavier. But like all of nature's creatures, the Squirrel has developed natural instincts to help it cope with its enviroment and total lack of body mass. A lone Squirrel is honestly nothing to fear. While furry, its natural pelt is as thin as a Robe-Crested, and it amazingly enough has utterly no means of defending itself. Armed with nothing more then a bitter loathing of the world and a severe inferiority complex it poses little threat to its natural predators. If encountered alone or by surprise, its full ardament consists of a payload of feeble slapping and maybe some hair pulling.

But its precisely this kind of vunerability that drove the Blueback Squirrel to such lengths as it goes. While small, its evil little skull houses a keen, diabolical mind with severe dillusions of grandeur. Using its wits and pint sized megolomania, the Squirrel will seek out other, larger, yet substationally less intelligent species. Once found, the Squirrel will easily browbeat and subdue a dull minded species into being its faithful minion. Using its sharp, if misguided, intellect the Squirrel will perch itself on its minion's shoulders or head and command them much as a captain might command a ship.

While technically speaking, the Squirrel is more like a pyschotic, nut craving furry parasite, the duo actually does share a symbiotic relationship. The larger dullard species gains a pint sized, raving intellectual compass, and the Squirrel gains a bodyguard and the muscle required to fullfill its desire for destruction and conquest. This bizzarre pair can actually be quite dangerous in the right situations. The larger minion, protected by an exceedingly thick skull, can absorb a metric assload of physical punishment before being defeated.

When engaged in combat, the typical Blueback will actually attack at a range. Often having its slow witted companion throw rocks, trees, sign posts, wagons and the odd cattle to damage opposing species from afar. This activity is actually quite good for the minion species, as its both fun and good excerise. If directly engaged in physical combat, the minion will pretty much resort to beating, mauling and $#@$%slapping, albeit at a futile rate of speed. Being attacked by smaller species irritates the minion and it often becomes unresponsive and difficult to control once physicalled engage in a slap fight with another species.

In a direct physical engagement, its actually near impossible to hurt the Squirrel itself. While the Squirrel, and its beady little gremlin eyes, can be seen constantly running around, on and over the minion, chittering and chirping commands in a manical fashion, its actually practically impossible to hit. If directly targetted, the Blueback will simply evade the cumbersome attacks, or take shelter on the minion's shoulders or head. For the minion is quite large, and has ever so many nooks, crannies and orifaces in which the Blueback can seek shelter from attack. Thus the only real way to dispatch a Blueback is to defeat the minion itself. Once felled, the Blueback will go into a state of shock as its perfectly crafted plans for world domination are shattered. Either that, or the minion will simply fall ON the Blueback. In both cases, the Squirrel will be stunned and/or injured, rendering its escape slow and confused. Once defeated, its dreams of conquest shattered, it is easily dispatched.

On a side note, the Squirrel is quite small and dextrous, capable of squeezing itself into tight quarters and past defences with relative ease. Its small stature also allows it to seek shelter and command the minion from afar. Not to far though. If seperated from its lumbering body guard for too long, the Blueback becomes paranoid and neurotic. Sadly, this often leads to its discover and horrible demise, as once it falls into paranoia, it loses its agility and ability to evade attacks.

Despite the seeming effectiveness of the Blueback's plans for world domination, in practice, the Blueback and its minion can be a rather cumbersome duo. Dull witted and slow, the minion doesn't tend to react to commands right away. Sometimes even ignoring them, or simply running off like a brainless furry juggernaut towards some unseen goal. Its not uncommon to sneak up on a Blueback, only to have the Squirrel notice you and scream desperately at its minion to turn around and fight you. Which of course it will, eventually. Sadly, this is precisely why the Blueback is so neurotic to begin with.

Due to the obvious physical power of the minion, and the amazing intellectual prowess of the Blueback, they occasionally attract younger species who seek them for teaching and experience. Obviously in awe of their amazing power. No really. These mewing younglings often wish to tow around behind the Blueback, leeching, er, learning from the Blueback duo's combination of vast intellect and combative abilities. These younglings can often be quite persistent. Occasionally, the Blueback might give the minion feel reign to simply devour the crouchy younglings as the foolish, vitamen filled newblets that they are. But on rare occasions, the Blueback will embrace such younglings, seeing a younger general of impressional minds it can imprint its raving squirrel doctrine upon.

There are a few different breeds of Blueback (In theory anyway.) They are as follows...

Bombarding Blueback (AKA the Cow-a-pult, Squirrel Artillery or simply Nutsucker.)

By far the most common and most dangerous breed. This particular breed of Blueback is mainly dangerous from a range, although its rather nefarious up close as well. At a range, you'll find yourself under assault from practically anything and everything, inanimate or otherwise, that isn't nailed down. If you do manage to close to a range, you still quite aren't in the clear. This particular breed of Blueback, even when its minion is engaged, will continue to assault you from its tiny perch atop the minion species. Often throwing small rocks, accorns, buttons, bits of rusty metal or even its own feces if provoked. This breed, while slow to react, can be quite dangerous and unpleasent to deal with.

Known Calls
"No, I won't power level you."
"I mean it, I won't power level you."
"I'M NOT GOING TO PL YOU $@@#$ OFF"
"Hah, me and my glorious unholy pet here will take em on. Yep, my pet here...er.....where the hell."
"No, its ok, he can port inside the keep too. I just have to tell him to ram his head against the door enough times and he'll get through eventually."
"No, seriously, if you ask me to power level you one more damn time I'm lodging a chair up your arse. Sideways."
"Well, see I can lifetap, and powertap, so I never really need to rest. Sucking never owned so much."
"Oh yes, he's an unholy engine of destruction. Well, when I can him to face the right way anyway."
"Pet cannot see my target? ITS RIGHT FRIGGAN THERE? ARE YOU BLIND? TURN YOUR HEAD AND LOOK YOU UNDEAD HALFWIT!"


Neurotic Blueback

Unlike its cousins, the Neurotic Blueback doesn't really have any heavy offence, or defence for that matter. In fact, most of its offensive capability involves trying to desperately flog its minion in close to its enemies to make use of the only heavy attack it has. Unfortunately, while it does have a point blank suicidal thermo nuclear attack method. However, the fact that its dependent on a towering half wit, with the speed and dexterity of an intoxicated elk puts a crimp in its other wise damn fine plans.

"No I can't power transfer. No I can't power tap. Shut up. What can I do? Well I can pbaoe....sort of.....and...uh...snare...or something. Leave me alone."
"Painworking is a perfectly viable spec. No really, it is. Its just as good as Deathsight.....really......(sigh) I clicked the wrong spec when I was training."
"Well, I mean, I know my skills are more group supportish. But come on, Group Support Zombie. You can't really top that kind of title."


Squirrel Overlord

The final breed of Blueback has focused all its power on training and conditioning its minion into a mighty beast. Armed with an amazing amount of physical fitness and some measure of dexterity, this minion is a lean, mean fighting machine. Well, sort of. Sadly, it still lacks the nessacary brainpower to complete basic tasks such as walking and blinking at the same time.

"Hah, sure, he's slow and has all the brain power of a mollusk. But damn, look at them pecs."
"We're still lobbying to allow necros some manner of customizing our pets. I for one think some leopard print leotards and ankle warmers would be to die for on this big guy."
"Well, honestly, I beefed him up like this because when I'm stuck in shade form, its really hard to open a beer. So I had to make sure he had sufficient arm strength. You know, them twist caps are pretty stubborn sometimes."
"Its all about physical fitness. You have to keep your minion healthy and active. Plus it wards off middle aged undead man boobies."

 

[Aran Thule]

Aelhaeran's Daoc Wilderness Guide: Albion: Falcon, Ironcleft (Armsman)

Much like its close cousin, the Silvered Falcon, the Ironcleft Falcon makes its home in the roving, endless, identical, dirt covered hills of the Pennine Mountains. Large, strong and intimidating, the Ironflect Falcon would be a formidable force to be reckoned with, feared throughout the lands....if it didn't share its habitate with the Silvered Falcon. While a strong and capable predator, the Ironcleft Falcon has one severe disadvantage when compared to its Silvered cousin. Its simply not very shiny. With boring, dull grey plummage, the Ironcleft Falcon is simply no match for its gleaming cousin in the looks department. Despite its vast strength and mighty wings, the Ironcleft Falcon just, well, isn't that interesting. In fact, you often have to look really closely to even see an Ironcleft Falcon in the wild past the glimmering brilliance of its regal cousin. This isn't to say the Ironcleft isn't a formidable predator. Far from it. Despite being lackluster and generally boring compared to its more impressive cousin, the Ironcleft is actually quite a bit stronger. Not that anyone ever really seems to notice.

Unlike its cousin, who's plummage draws your attention like a screaming three headed rabbit thats been set on fire, the Ironcleft Falcon is actually rather unnoticable. Often being mistaken for a rock, dirt, or some other easily dismissed, pointless object. Its ability to simply fade into the background unnoticed isn't actually intentional. Years worth of being overlooked, ignored and tripped over has worn down the spirit of this once mighty creature. Adding insult to injury, the Ironcleft Falcon is totally devoid of a voice. It can't launch into the inspiring calls and songs of its Silvered cousin. Heck, it can't even chirp. Often times, the Ironcleft Falcon will have to resort to various other means in order to drawn attention to itself. Dying its plummage a variety of eye gauging colours is a common tactic. As is spinning in a circle while clumsily dancing, bowing or some other strange variety of ridiculous movements and gestures. If all else fails, a desperate Ironcleft may simply resort to a sudden burst of brutal physical violence in order to gain attention. Unfortunately, while well intentioned, this tactic often leaves its fellow species unconcious and bleeding from the ears. A far cry from simply gaining the attention of one of its fellows as originally intended.

If you encounter and actually notice one of these mighty creatures in the wild, don't worry, just remain calm as they are quite easy to deal with. Unlike most creatures, where eye contact is a bad idea, you should if at all possible stare directly AT the Ironcleft Falcon at all times. If it realises you actually notice and acknowledge its pitiful exsistence, it may become overjoyed and follow you around like a lost puppy for a time. This can be rather advantagous, as the Ironcleft is quite adept at defending its fellows and can serve you rather well in that capacity. Especially if properly adopted and cared for with loving buffs and attention. When left to its own devices in the wild, the Ironcleft Falcon often tragically dies a lonely, hollow death as another predator falls upon it. If directly attacked in this fashion by an opposing predator, the Ironcleft may be too happy that someone has noticed its presence that it may forget to defend itself. Resulting in its untimely demise. For this reason, its all the more important to adopt and care for an Ironcleft so it has ample attention to satisfy its insecurities. Once properly groomed and looked after, it can actually focus on defending itself and its fellows.

Of course, these methods may not always work and at some point you may be faced with an angry Ironcleft. Fear not however, for as long as you know what you're doing you can escape these encounters unscathed. You see, while quite strong, the Ironcleft is also quite large and its thick plummage is likewise quite heavy. If directly attacked, one need only defend oneself from two or three of the Ironcleft's mighty blows. After which, the Ironcleft will usually tire itself out and collapse in a panting, sweaty heap. Alternatively, if you simply run in a circle for ten seconds or so, forcing the Ironcleft to chase you, it will likewise become winded and slow to the pace of a pregnant water buffalo. Allowing you to easily make an escape. Occassionally the Ironcleft will muster a surge of energy to lunge forward in a power charge. But don't worry, while dangerous, the Ironcleft's ability to turn, slow down, stop, avoid trees and not trip like a drunken three legged goat is rather poor. Simply stepping out of the way also works wonders.

Another strange characteristic worthy of mention is the Ironcleft's attack patterns. On the surface, they are quite primitive. In fact, they really don't consist of anything more then just running over and trying to pummel things to death. However, depending on the situation and the Ironcleft's mental stability at the time, they sometimes vary their method of attack. Alternating between the slower, more powerful two claw attack and a strange defensive posture where they use a single wing to shield themselves while comically trying to fend you off with one claw. Granted, this isn't precisely versatility on the Ironcleft's part, more like desperation. It is also widely rumoured that the Ironcleft is capable of some sort of ranged attack. But upon observation, this bizzarre pattern of attack consists of little more then the Falcon gripping a rock in one claw and then hurling it at an opposing species. Unfortunately, this has two major downsides. Firstly, holding a rock in one claw means the Ironcleft is desperately balancing itself on one foot, all the while teetering like a drunken sailor. Secondly, well, the Ironcleft throws like a little girl and in every instance of this odd behaviour known, the target avoided the projectile by simply taking a step backwards. Resulting in the attack falling harmlessly at its target's feet.

Oddly, there exsists one final curiousity about this often overlooked species. Along with its bouts of depression and longing need for attention, the Ironcleft seems to suffer from some sort of bizzarre learning disability. In order to learn or train itself in any given skill or instinct, it has to likewise learn a totally and completely unrelated ability. For instance, in order to learn how to effectively claw someone's eyeballs out while flailing widely, the Ironcleft would likewise have to learn how to poke people in the face with its beak. Other instances of this strange method of learning include having to learn how to build a log cabin in order to learn how to dance and having to learn how to beat its head against a rock in order to learn how to better build a nest.


There are a few different known breeds of the Ironcleft Falcon, there are as follows...


Lucern Falcon (Aka the Polesmen, Hammy Halberd or simply Why The Hell Do I Need to Learn how to Use a Knife to Swing a Polearm?)

A fairly common breed, the Lucern Falcon is probably the most devestating for sheer strength. However, its slow, cumbersome and has all the speed and endurance of the forementioned pregnant water buffalo. Attacking with both claws at the same time, this breed is fairly capable of landing some heavy hits on predator and prey alike. Unfortunately, due to its complete lack of stamina, it must rest for some time after every swing before it can muster the energy to attack again.

Known Calls

"Hark! For I have stricken ye down half dead with but one mighty blow! Now I shall finish off thy fiendish knave with my next mighty strike! ..........Aye....with my next mighty strike......any minute now........yep....soon......wait for it........ffs, brb, getting a Coke."
"I'm still trying to figure out how stabbing someone with a kitchen knife and breaking their skull with a 10 foot polearm are related."
"Hah! You think you can flee from me?! Your days be numbered, knave! For I still have my crossbow! (readies bolt) Aye! I shall strike ye down as ye limp away at the speed of a one legged horse with leprosy! My bolt shall pierce thy heart.....and......um......hmm......say....you think you could like, limp back this way about 10 feet or so?......yes I know you're only 15 feet away."




Barn Falcon (Aka the S/S Armsmen, No I Don't Have End Chant or simply Better off as a Paladin)

Earning its name from its strange kleptomanic like behaviour, the Barn Falcon can be rather difficult to dispatch with pure physical attacks. This is mostly due to the fact that this paticular breed has developed a bizzarre method of self defence. Namely, in the dead of night, it moves inland towards Camelot Hills and, like some sort of feathered ninja gone horribly wrong, makes off with some poor farmer's barn door. Once having obtained its prized, the Barn Falcon will cart around its wooden hostage and use it as a shield. This breed is quite easy to spot, as it tends to move fairly slowly, dragging around an entire barn door behind it. Few things in nature are as strange and wonderous to behold as the drag marks left behind by a Barn Falcon as it lugs its stolen prize off into the night.

Known Calls

"....no I only LOOK like a Paladin."
"I can't ghetto rez you, leave me alone."
"If you tell me to run end chant one more time I'm going to lodge this barn door up yer arse."
"Well, I'm a solid tank...and I can...um...guard...or something....no, I can't end chant...no I can't turn into a moose either."
"God dammit, best armour in the game my ass. You know how hard it is to put this crap on? ...Hell, do you know how hard it is to take it off?....no really, do you? I soooo have to pee."
"This is a platemail HELM damn you all, not an empty bucket from KFC."
"Argh, I wish I could equip a shield in my right hand too. Then I could have two barn doors. So I could like, pretend to be a barn. No one would EVER see that coming in RvR. Warriors? Have both 1 hand and 2 hand in same line. Heros? Turn into a moose. Armsmen? Can pretend to be an entire barn. BOOYAH! Now thats fluff."
"Haha, yeah, so then he was like, "wtf is a barn doing next to the Milegate" and I was all like "This isn't the farm you're looking for...." then he turned into a moose, kicked my ass and danced on me."



Raging Falcon (Aka the 2-hander, Wallace Wannabe or the Spec that didn't work on a paladin and probably won't work here.)

One of the rarest breeds, this breed favours a two claw attack pattern somewhat similar to the Lucern Falcon, but not quite. Unfortunately, it still suffers from the same bizzarre learning disorder as the Lucern however. This breed is generally considering a rarity and a freak of nature. Not to mention it tends to be stark raving mad, often rushing into battle convinced of its own massive damage output and immortality.

Known Calls

"I am William Wallace! ....wait....this isn't really Scottland is it? ...and I'm sort of in platemail...not ass naked and covered with blue face paint.....hmm......I am!......uh.....I am......fark.....I am Steve from Hardware and I hail from the lands of eBay!"
"Look at all the little weenies and their one handed swords. Not me bucko, my sword is HUGE. Look at that, its near big as I am, muahahah.....what? No I'm not overcompensating, shut up."
"You're just jealous because your sword isn't big enough to ride like a pony."
"What's that 2-hander you got there? Apocolypse's sword? Pfft, thats nothing, check out this baby. Crackling Ebony 9-Iron."



Except from the Daoc Wilderness Guide,
- Aelhaeran of Percival.

 

[Aran Thule]

Aelhaeran's Daoc Wilderness Guide: Hibernia: Robe-Crested, Shroomgrazer (Animist)

Perhaps the single most bizzarre species to ever crawl out of the natural world, the Shroomgrazer almost defies description. Lurking amongst the deep woods of Hybrasil, this strange creature boggles and generally freaks out even its Robe-Crested cousins. While it shares the awe-inspiring, wet toilet paper like defences of its Robe-Crested counterparts, the Shroomgrazer lacks any freakish, ranged offensive capabilities. Instead, this oft misunderstood species has taken up one of the most dangerous professions of all. Gardening. The Shroomgrazer's entire life cycle, including its natural weapons and defences, all revolve around the mighty art of gardening. While this practice is strangely effective once its reached maturity, the sad fact of the matter is things really don't grow that fast. A painful bit of reality that serves as a minor flaw in the Shroomgrazer's otherwise damn fine plans.

The Shroomgrazer's primary means of survival in the wilds of Hibernia is, well, mushrooms. Specifically planting mushrooms. Angry mushrooms. Angry, scary, purple mushrooms. With teeth. The Shroomgrazer will lovingly plant and tend its garden of freakish doom shrooms with all the care and devotion of an overprotective parent. Once matured, the mushrooms ( With teeth, TEETH ) serve as a natural means of defence for the Shroomgrazer. You may think it easy to avoid a freakball purple teeth monger mushroom, as, well, they're plants and thus don't really move around a lot. But the Shroomgrazer has realised this little flaw in its plan too. The mushrooms it cultivates not only bite, but, well, spit. Spit frothing, nasty arse balls of burning doom juice on any predator that wanders too close to the garden of pain. While being spit on by a mushroom is pretty god damn strange to begin with, being spit on by fifty of them will put a major crimp in the day of any predator seeking to make a meal of the Shroomgrazer.

There is, however, one critical weakness with this bizzarre species. Gardens take time to grow. Thus making the Shroomgrazer the single most adept Robe-Crested species when it comes to dying screaming when caught out in the open. However, if given several months, plenty of water, sunlight and a little loving care, the Shroomgrazer can be a mighty foe to deal with. Of course, the bulk of the Shroomgrazer's offensive power can be avoided by simply walking around it. But most predator species are often dim-witted enough to stumble straight into the middle of the Grazer's shroom garden. Resulting in a death so ridiculous in nature that it may very well be the shame of being killed by mushrooms that kills off the predator before the actual mushrooms do. On the up side, the Shroomgrazer is a meticulously clean species and the mushrooms, being, well, angry....purple...and bearing...teeth, are quite adept at devouring any and all evidence of trespassers.

Another advantage the Shroomgrazer holds over its foes is, well, no one really expects to DIE to mushrooms. Natural enemies that stumble into the Garden of Suffering are often so stunned by the fact they're being assaulted by mushrooms that they forget to make any attempt to escape. Once the realisation they're being attacked by weird little gyrating purple mushrooms with teeth, most species begin to wonder if they accidently inhaled paint fumes or were smoking some manner of wacky weed before they left home that day. This shock and confusion usually gives the shroomy little hate buoys plenty of time to hork up and launch enough botanical death juice at the target to effectively seal its unfortunate, flailing death. After which the mushrooms consume whatever evidence of the target's exsistence might have been left over. Anything they can't quite reach with their stubby little root legs and sharp, pointy fungal teeth simply decomposes into fertilizer for them anyway.

After careful observation of this species, there was one last disturbing trend discovered. Apparently, sometimes, the Shroomgrazer seems just as confused and freaked out about its own abilities as everyone else is. When this happens, the Shroomgrazer may begin to erratically plant mushrooms in bizzarre places. Cliffs, walls, barns, on its head, your house, under your bed, hanging from the rafters of your living room, stuck to the neighbour's face, etc. It may also seem periodically confused by the concepts of space and distance. Staring in cross eyed bewilderment at the ground, trying to judge how far away the patch of grass its concentrating on is. Sadly, when a Shroomgrazer is struck with this unfortunate mental condition it usually ends up flailing wildly with a natural predator latched onto its face.

There's a few different breeds of Shroomgrazer, they are as follows:


Arborial Grazer (Aka the smart one that realises shrooms can't move.)

Unlike its cousin breeds, the Arborial Grazer has realised that shrooms aren't very mobile and take a rather lengthy amount of time to plant and grow. This clever little fellow found an alternative means of protecting itself and attacking natural enemies. Or at least it thinks it has. Being a creature with a strong affinity for nature, the Arborial Grazer turned to the fae folk for help. Seeking to hire itself a little muscle to add to its arsenal. Unfortunately, most sprites and fairies are union and the Arborial Grazer ended up having to contract out the very bottom of the genepool when it comes to the fairy world.

It seems like it would work in theory, hiring a small army of sprites to do the Grazer's dirty work. Arming them with a variety of nasty tricks and a rather large amount of explosives. Dispatching them where ever needed to deliver their glorious little bombs of death and what not. However, the Grazer neglected to take into account the fact that a good deal of sprites tend to be drunk off their friggan rocker 24 hours a day. Thus, the Drunken Sprite Bomb was born. When directed towards a target to attack with its payload, the sprite takes off like a fumbling, drunken proctologist. Having a rough idea of exactly where its suppose to be heading, but too intoxicated to quite remember how to get there.

Bobbing and weaving, the Sprite often seems to discover the absolute LONGEST path possible between it and its eventually target. Around trees, over rocks, in circles a few times, up some Mentalist's robe, essentially going everywhere BUT where its suppose to go. Oh, it will get their eventually. Maybe. If the Grazer has the luck of the Creator himself and all the planet's of the solar system are aligned on a Sunday, on Christmas, at exactly 4:57pm during a snowstorm. Otherwise, the sprite will likely crash into the first sturdy piece of the landscape it can find. Rock, trees, cliffs, walls, lakes, rivers, oceans, the ground, it can find something. Sometimes, its so drunk or stoned off its gourd that it simply becomes utterly enthralled with a particularly odd shaped clump of grass or dirt.

The best way for the Grazer to utilize its Sprites is by minimizing the amount of obstacles and distractions the Sprite is exposed too as it travels towards the target to deliver its explosive attack. Flat, barren ground is best. Away from anything that has any sort of bright, shiny colours to distract the Sprite. In other words, about the only situation where the Sprite can successfully complete its attack would be in a closed, empty, featureless white room. With no doors or windows. With the target about five feet from the Grazer. and a total lack of gravity. But, even then, there would be slight chance of the Sprite crashing into the floor or ceiling before ever reaching the target.

Known Calls

"Hah! Take this you filthy Alb...er....what the....LEFT! TAKE A LEFT! .......YOUR OTHER LEFT YOU GLORIOUS DRUNKEN LITTLE ARSE MONKEY!"
"ITS A STRAIGHT LINE! Oh my God, why can't you follow a STRAIGHT LINE!"
"No...no...don't go over....oh for....GET OFF THE STAIRS HALF-WIT! He's down by the door!"
"....what the Hell do you guys want from me? A map?"
"Hah, yeah, your nukes hit instantly, but I can get 3 or 4 of these little babies in the air before the guy even realises he's being attacked. Yep, four of em! Look at em go! That guy will be in for a rude surprise in a minute.......yep.....any minute now the first one will hit him....any minute.....FOR CRYING OUT LOUD HE'S RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU! GO FORWARD! FORWARD! No! Not backward....oh for....(sigh) Sooo.....what was it you were saying about nukes?"
"Anger sprite, patio lantern, same thing."
".....(sigh) can I borrow your staff? Mine isn't quite long enough to knock my Sprite down out of that tree."



Creeping Grazer ( Aka....er....lord they're all too damn weird. )

The Creeping Grazer has chosen to focus itself more on cultivating the mighty shroom. Using a variety of shroom species that bombard enemies with a variety of unpleasentness. Including shroom species that are rather fond of maiming, crippling and weakening opponents. The Creeping Grazer's shrooms are exceptionally trained. Able to launch projectile doom juice at their target's face and use their stubby little legs to clutch and hurdle sticks, rocks and other blunt objects at the target. Natural enemies that stumble into the Creeping Grazer's garden often find themselves stumbling around blinding, desperately clutching their face screaming "GET IT OFF GET IT OFF" while being pelted by any random object that happens to be near the shrooms at the time.

Known Calls

"Hah hah hah, look at the wide variety of tools I have at my disposal! Hah...ha..er....how the HELL do I use this crap."
"If I had to sum up my entire class in a single word, that word would be: What the *(@&$!?"
"Hmm? What about the shrooms over there? What are they for? Uh...hell, damned if I know. But if you figure it out let me know, ok?"
"So does this shroom go near the bad guys, or near the good guys? Hrm...dammit. I'll just plant it here and see who dies when they walk by."
"Ok...that one is fire and forget, and does damage. This one..uh..debuffs..something...That shroom snares...I think.....This one is, as far as I know, essentially a quivering, purple barstool."
"Hey! They do NOT look like stubby little...boy...poles....ok...maybe a little....christ almighty I'm surrounded by little dancing....I'm rerolling something less creepy, brb."



Verdant Grazer ( Aka...hell, I give up. I don't know what any of them do either. )

Unlike its two cousin breeds, the Verdant Grazer decided to focus on healing and supporting its allies. Unfortunately, being a Shroomgrazer, it tries to do this with mushrooms. Planting a variety of species that can grant various beneficial effects on friends. Unfortunately, several of these mushrooms species require the allies in question to be close and it just doesn't feel right huddling around a quivering, purple mushroom with teeth. It doesn't sit right with a lot of people. But at least the Verdant Grazer gave up on delivering its beneficial skills by forcing allied species to lick the mushrooms.


Known Calls

"Muah, I can deliver a wide variety of helpful, beneficial effects to my realm mates! ......in the most difficult, round about, crazy ass way possible"
"Lick it. I dare you. Do it. Lick the shroom. It'll bladeturn you if you lick it. I swear."
"Ok...that shroom over there...casts an ablative buff...I think...and that one over there....does...um...hell. Go over there and tell me what that shroom does to you."
"Hah, my controllable shroom turret is a TANK! Booyah! A tank...that...uh...doesn't move....and doesn't...what the...f...oh well. Least I have somewhere to sit while I watch the other shrooms do something useful."
"Yeah, my little healer sprite here can cast hp regen on you...just...uh...stop bleeding long enough for him to find you....its kind of hard for him you know. What with you being in a straight line five feet from me and everything."

Except from the Daoc Wilderness Guide,
- Aelhaeran of Percival.

 

[Aran Thule]

DaoC Wilderness Guide: Albion: Leatherback, Robe-Crested (Friar)

An unusual and enigmatic species, the Leatherback is an oddly jublulent but unpredictable species. While not a true member of the Robe-Crested family, the Leatherback, from a distant, does very strongly resemble one. But it is imparative that you do not mistake the Leatherback for a true member of the Robe-Crested species under any circumstances. Such cases of mistaken identity can lead to severe injury such as splinters, fractures, broken bones and beaten ass. Upon closer examination the Leatherback does indeed possess a somewhat heavier pelt then a typical Robe Crested, and is far FAR more disposed towards wanton physical violence. In fact it completely and utterly lacks ANY of the destructive ranged attacks of its cousins. Thus it is capable only of wanton physical violence, fueled by an everburning desire to beat ass. Lithe, agile and lacking even a shred of mental stability, it is an unpredictable foe to opposing predators. Often shifting between ass beating tendencies and exhalted states of possibly alchohol induced joy. It is difficult to predict or gauge the Leatherback's combatative behaviour.

As a young pup, the Leatherback is surprisingly weak. Barely able to take down prey and fight off predators. Often spending several minutes slugging it out with creatures 1/6th its size with all the combat effectiveness of a wet puppy wearing mittens. Its only advantage being an ability to quickly recupe the severe injuries its likely to recieve on a daily basis. It is also deceptively cute and cuddly, and may be readily invited into groups based on its recupartive abilities and sheer adorability. When installed within a group or pack, it can help heal and assist its groupmates. However, few of its groupmates are ever braced for the radical transformation it undergoes after about 5 seasons or so and becomes a juvenile.

At this stage in its life, its defining characteristics begin to take shape. The pups forepaws and upper body strength begin to increase at an alarming rate. It begins to lose any regard for its own personal safety and begins to develop a genetic attraction to fermented substances. In fact, in group hunts, it will often begin enraging and tanking a foe, pulling its attention away from heavier, more durable group mates in favour of being beaten within an inch of its life itself. It even seems to *enjoy* this behaviour, despite the unsettlingly common fatalities it may lead too.

As it matures, it becomes increasingly dangerous, capable of dealing out more and more brutal blunt force trauma. It will also actively place itself in more and more peril, often attempting to enrage multiple opponents so it can mock and humiliate them. However, by now, despite its thin pelt, its beginning to develop its showboating tendencies. It will deftly evade incoming attacks and counter attacking in the most impressive, flashy ways possible. All the while yelling various insults and dirty limmericks to further enrage its opponents.

There is one primary weakness of the Leatherback.....alchohol. It is instinctively drawn to any form of alchohol. While some Leatherbacks have the willpower to resist these urges, many do not. In fact, it is quite difficult to tell if the typical adult Leatherback is intoxicated or not, as the older it gets the fewer differences remain between its intoxicated and sober states. Adult Leatherbacks have been known to consume disturbing amounts of alchohol if they feel threatened, angered, elated, upset, sad, happy, depressed, or just whenever. Adult Leatherbacks are known to be capable of actually sucking particles of alchohol out of keg wood or pub tables, and some believe they are even capable of absorbing it directly into the blood stream through the skin.

When engaged in combat, the Leatherback may flip between two distinct states. One is a state of utter joy and happiness, usually induced by achohol. When in this state, the Leatherback will often be smiling or singing merrily as it stick beats your friends into a wet, pulpy mass. In this state, you can be happy, as at least when your jaw was dislocated, it was done with a smile. After you've been rendered unconcious, the Leatherback may even happily tell your limp, broken body a story, give you a kiss on the cheek, leave a little gift for when/if you ever awaken from the coma, or simply prop you up against the nearest rock so they can offer you a drink. Because hey, your brain didn't completely leak out of your ears, and by damn, that calls for a drink.

The second, and thankfully rarer state, is the most dangerous. Periodiocally, for brief spurts, the Leatherback may enter a state of such focused purpose that few can outright stand against it. This purpose is the express, vicious, brutal, swift and total beating of ass. You see, the Leatherback is actually devotely religious, and believes in a higher power. A higher power who preaches peace, love and kindness among all of its children no matter their species. However thats not precisely what the Leatherback's higher power enlisted them for. You see, the Leatherback's God demands that certain good followers of his maintain a specific quota of Ass Beatings per day. Ass Beatings help maintain the cosmic balance of love and tranquility. Because, lets face it, every now and then, there are some people that just really need or deserve to get their ass beaten. This is where the Leatherback comes in. Thus, the Leatherback's divine mission, is to Beat Ass. It is a Missionary of Ass beating, if you will.

This Divine Ass Beating state (or DAB for short) does not last very long, but when in this state, it becomes a whirling blur of pain. But however brief, it often lasts long enough to fragment the skull and beat the ass of whomever was unfortunate enough to be on the recieving end. Once its Ass Beating quota has again be satisfied, it will revert to its previously jovial self, and probably offer you a drink to wash down your teeth with.

On a side note, Leatherbacks possess utterly no ranged attacks whatsoever, and may fall prey to other species who do. Well, no thats not entirely true, they do possess a single ranged attack they use religiously to instigate combat with foes. Bad language.

There are several breeds of.....ah who are we kidding, every Leatherback is out to beat ass when you get right down to it. Its just a matter of what priority Ass Beating is. Some Leatherbacks actually excel more in healing and supporting their pack then Beating Ass, but once given the opportunity, they too can and will beat ass if given half a chance.

Known Calls (The worst part is a couple of these are actual quotes)
"I dub thee Brother Paul, Friar of God, Beater of Ass."
"Nah, there's only like 2 groups of us, we'd need at least 1-2 more Friars to kill Legion."
"<sigh> here we go again, someone incurred the wrath of ANF. Ya, you know, Angry Naked Friar."
"Level 33? Grats! One more level and you'll be solo'n these Highlords."
"<evades> Woot! 30 SECOND NINJA!"*
"If you call this a dress one more time they'll need a rope, a lantern and a cart mule to get my quarterstaff back out of you."
"REAL men can wear leather pants without shame. But nooo, you're all like IT CHAFES IT CHAFES!"
"Hey, what did you take my pull for? Whattaya mean in trouble? It was only 3 oranges!"
"Hehe <evades> ya <evades> ya,<evades> you're <evades> right <evades> its not <evades> nice <evades> to <evades> pick on <evades> greys."
"Poor bastard musta thought I was a caster, guess he didn't see the keg."
"Heh heh, yeah, my staff is pretty big, gotta use two hands. Not to bad with it either if I do say so myself. What? Oh, yeah, I have a quarterstaff too."
"<sigh> Armsmen whining about aggro stealing again. Staff envy is such a sad thing."
"Acolytes! You too can be a walking sexual inneundo! The Defenders of Albion need you!"
"Ah..I'm sorry, got a bit carried away sparring with ya there. You ok? Here pull your hood back and lemme see how OH SWEET MOTHER OF..er...um...hang on, I'll go get you a bandage...no no, thats ok, keep the hood up."
"Did you know each rib actually has a unique musical note? You can play a tune on em if you're fast enough. No, I'm not kidding <crack!> see? That was a B flat......here lemme give you a hand back up."
"Well...they gave me a stick....and a dress....this is the part where I save the world I suppose."
"Hey...I was thinking of putting some silver streamers on the ends of my quarterstaff...you know, like a cheerleader."
"Well, I wasn't too sure at first. Getting the end of my staff shod was uncomfortable, and a bit expensive. Didn't really feel right at first but I'm use to it now. That blacksmith though, you shoulda see how strong his hands were."
"Wait....50g? For a STICK? Can't I just go get a stick off a tree? What are you going to do for 50g? Sand it down with your tongue?"
"Ooohhh yes....oh ya....mhmm....what? Oh, the tailor was out of Runed leather, so I had to get suede leather armour. Now whenever I move its like....oh ya, thats what I'm talking about."
"Meh, everyone keeps calling me a Brother Friar, but I barely even boiled him."
"Everyone's getting pets, its not fair. We need a pet. Like...a badger or something. Yeah. I bet a badger would be hella fun if ya got em drunk."
"Oh yes! He finally said those 3 magic words to me and my heart just melted! Blunt force trauma."
"Hah! Finally, my mission in life is complete! After endless amounts of toil and leveling, I've finally gotten a glowing staff! .....what? No, my quarterstaff is just brown."
"Hmm...woot, just 17 more Diamond Seals and I'll finally have enough Avernal Quarterstaffs to finish spelling out WTF? on the hill in front of Dun Crauchon."
"You'd be surprised how long I can last with self end regen.....er...uh.. I mean.."
"You know, if you suck hard enough, you can actually suck the particles of ale straight through the side of the keg."


*30 Second Ninja
For those of you unfamiliar with the 30 Second Ninja rule....whenever you accomplish an amazing feat of everyday dexterity, such as knocking a bug out of the air, catching a glass you knocked off the counter before it hits the ground, dodging a splash from a puddle, catching the grape your girlfriend threw at you with your mouth, etc, for the next 30 seconds, you're an official Ninja. Hence, 30 Second Ninja Rule.

 

[Aran Thule]

DaoC Wilderness Guide: Hibernia: Melodious Tabby

A fairly common wanderer among the green lands of Emain Macha, the Melodious Tabby is the 3rd and final member of the Naturalist family of felines. Around the same size and physical strength as the Bubble Kitten, the Tabby has a thinner pelt then either of its two cousins. It also lacks the Bubble Kitten's ability to avoid harm, and the Perennial Lynx's ability to shrug off punishment. In fact, out of the 3, sadly, the Tabby probably has the lowest life expectancy. With over 50% not even surviving their 15th to 19th seasons.

While small and adorable, the Tabby, like the Bubble Kitten, is born clawless and naive. Unknowing and unaware of the cruel fate that surely awaits to pray upon it. This isn't to say the Tabby is useless, far from it, it shares the same soothing and supporting abilities as its two cousins. Its calming purr can sooth and relax even the mentally unstable Dancing Moose (although nothing will ever sedate the damn things from well, dancing). Making it an invaulable addition to any group or pack.

Unfortunately, as the weakest of the Feline Naturalist family, which is saying something, it quite literally has no natural defences. Its main method of self defence is the fact it can book it like a bat out of hell faster then any other native species. Of course in order to do this it requires perfect, uninterrupted concentration and a "warm up" distance thats longer then some rivers. Thus it can only employ this method of self defence when its not being attacked, looked at, breathed upon, having bad thoughts sent in its generation direction or inhabiting the same 10 square miles as any hostile species.

Its secondary method of defence, desperately screaming for help, isn't usually overly successful either, as the Tabby may perish faster then any of its companions can even begin to save it. That leaves it with but one final method of self defence. Purring. Its soothing purr and large, adorable "Please sweet Jesus don't kill me" eyes may briefly mesmerize charging opponents, or make them forget exactly what they were trying to crush into a wet smear across MWE in the first place. If, by some sweet gracious miracle of God, the Tabby cat is left unmolested in a battle for more then 2 seconds, it may actually break out into a full fledged purr fest, an area effect Giga Purr if you will. So powerful it may lull entire groups of attackers into momentary non-homicidalness.

Of course, this is all in theory. In practice, the Tabby has one critical disadvantage. Its pelt. Unlike other native species, who tend to have pelts that allow them to blend into their natural habitate, the Tabby's pelt is a screaming whirl of magic hippie voodoo rainbow colours. Under direct light, this furry chromatic super nova will even seem to shift hues. With this amazing rainbow display, the Tabby can be easily spotted by predators miles away on the horizon. Like a glorious tye dye "PLEASE KILL ME NOW I AM WORTH TEH RPZ" sign, this pelt immediately signals any and all hostile species in the area that the Tabby is indeed small, soft, squishy and full of delicious rp nutrients that will burst forth like a gyser of juicy fruit goodness at the slightest intent of violence in its direction.

While possessing some (laughable) offensive capabilities, the Tabby is often forbidden from using them. Its soothing purr is so much of a boon to its group mates that they'll forbid it from actually joining in in combat. Often times, they will instruct the Tabby to just "Run around in a circle and try not to let anything hit you.", while at the same time instructing it to "Oh and heal too." Leaving the Tabby sad, confused and alone. Oh, and one shot meal ticket for anything that can hit harder then a gentle summer breeze.

This isn't to say the Tabby is completely devoid of natural weaponary, well, it is, almost, but it does have some. While it lacks claws, it can mew very very loudly, so loudly it actually hurts your ears. Might even give you a headache. Of course, this means that 50% of the Tabby's total offence capabilities can be neutralized by plugging your ears and going "La la la, I'm not listening!". The other 50% can be neutralized by sneezing in its general direction, thus causing it critical injury.

While calmer and more mentally stable then its two cousin species, the abuse it sometimes suffers at the hands of both friend and foe alike may indeed drive it into the same vein of unsatisfied homicidal tendencies as its cousins. This tendency is not yet fully understood, but it has been observed in action on rare occasionals in the wild. Known as the "@#$@ It Snap Effect", the Tabby may occasionally reach a breaking point, especially if its life is in danger, where it will suddenly switch to full offence.

This most commonly happens while the Tabby is being pursued or menancing by a larger, more physically powerful species. Which is to say anything with more lethal capabilities and weaponary then an annoyed squirrel. While this situation is occuring, it is likely the Tabby may have a "*@#$ It Snap Effect". This will be evident when the Tabby suddenly grinds to a stop, turns, bears its teeth, and with eyes full of an unquenchable desire to kill, maim and destroy, launches itself at its attacker. Often times this sudden change from weak, pitiful mewing furball to homicidal blood thirsty screaming pitiful furball is enough to stun or surprise opponents long enough for the Tabby to attack. Since it lacks claws, the Tabby will attempt to strike and latch onto a vital area of its aggressor with its teeth. Such as the earlope, bottom lip, rim of a nostril, pinky finger, nipple, left buttock, or in the case of a male aggressor, vital areas better left unsaid. If this attack succeeds, the Tabby, with a mouth full of vitals, will continue to unleash a muffled, yet blood curdling scream of rage while futilely beating its opponent with its paws. Being clawless, this relentless assault is much like having a 5 year old girl pummel you with marshmellows.
However, the Tabby's jaws will lock into a deathgrip. While it may succumb to death within 2 or less blows from its attacker, the jaws will not release whatever squishy vital treasures they may have latched onto. You may require expert attention and even surgical removal in order to disengage the Tabby from your tender vittles.

There are a couple of different breeds of Tabby, though mixed breeds are always possible. They are as follows:


Purring Tabby Cat (AKA the Colourful RP Pinata, Fast Food, Wendy One Shot, Kill Me Now or simply Target.)

This breed has very little in the way of offensive capabilities or life expectancy, but its sheer adorability and soothing purr make it a coveted addition to any group. While weak and begging for death in its technicolour dreamcoat pelt, if left unmolested the Purring Tabby Cat can sooth, relax and recuperate every aspect of its adopted group. Its also extremely cuddly and makes a good lap warmer. The Purring Tabby Cat is also the single most powerful dispenser of the guilt trip in the entire realm. Treat it with great affection. You have been warned.

Known Calls
"Hey guys? Can I at least take out my shield? Please?"
"Hmm....3 second casting time. Unfortunately, thats around 4 times my life expectancy.
"I can hit things too ya know! I don't exsist just to play end song. No really I don't, stop laughing...."
"!!!! I GOT KILL SPAM! AND I WAS ON THE HAPPY END OF IT! I am the King! WHO DA MAN?! WHO DA MAN?!"
"Well, I tried to sell myself on ebay....but I was only worth $24.65."
"Good armour? Negative. Good damage? Negative. Good life expecteny? Negative. Giant friggan colourful musical beacon around my head that says KILL ME NOW? Check!"
"Ohhh, we're getting a 2nd bard in the party? Does that mean I can fight now? Oh, right, play powersong....jerks."
"I'm playing end song dammit, you don't have to keep asking me to do it. Do I keep asking you to SWING SWORD PLZ?! No? Well then shut up."
"Hey, um....can anyone kill a guard patrol? Please? They've been chasing me for the last hour and a half.....anyone?"
"It may only do 57(-43) but I'm going to cram this drum up your ass sideways if you say "end" and "song" in the same sentence to me again."
"!!! I LIVED LONG ENOUGH TO GET OFF AE MEZZ! I AM THE KING! WHO DA MAN?! WHO DA MAN?!"
"How much I can heal you is directly proporational to how much running in a circle screaming for my life I have to do, which is equal to how well you protect me. Now go find us a rez Captain F8 2 Winz."


Whirling Tabby Cat (AKA The Battle Bard)

A bizzarre and rather rare mutation of the Tabby, the Whirling Tabby, much like the Raging Bubble Kitten, was born with claws. Small, little girl press on nail claws, but claws just the same. This breed is prone to having a "*@&# It Snap Effect" once every few minutes, if its not constantly engulfed in one as is. The only time this breed purrs is when its chasing down something. Otherwise its best not to incur its scratch happy wrath, it will purr for you when its damn well good and ready.

Known Calls

"I will play end song when *I* get tired, now shove over sword boy, I'll show you how its REALLY done."
"Hmph, unlike you so called "real" bards, I can get off up to THREE styled hits before I die."
"Booyah, unlike you guys and yer sissy instruments, I keep my unspec'd shield EQUIPPED and OUT. That gives me a 3% chance to live longer then one hit! BEAT THAT!"
"Well, see, my speed song lets me come SCREAMING out of the trees at my target at around mach 5, then my high weapon spec lets me surprise them by actually seeing a Bard hitting them. Then, when they finally recover from the shock, my feeble amount of hit points and armour will require them to work up at least a bit of a sweat as they swing at least two or three times to crush me into a gooey afterthought. I AM the King."
"Fire blade! Spectrum Blade! FIRE BLADE! SPECTRUM BLADE! FIR.......need rez."
"Jerk, I was sitting there styling him with my sword and he just spammed /laugh. Thats when I crammed my flute up his nose and beat him to death with my lute. *Sigh* and you thought twisting was hard on instruments."

Excerpt from the DaoC Wilderness Guide,
Aelhaeran of Percival

 

[Tasslehoff]

Yes, nice stuff. But you could just have posted a link to it.

 

[Aran Thule]

Yes, nice stuff. But you could just have posted a link to it.

True but ive looked for this several times and that site was the only place i found it so wanted it up somewhere else in case the original went down.

link is:
http://pub247.ezboard.com/fkelrycksdaocradioandroleplaycenterfrm17.showMessage?topicID=1.topic

 

[Tasslehoff]

Oh, just noticed the place where he originally posted it is no more

So sorry, my mistake :]

 

[Naetha]

I liked that

 

[Klonk]

Give more like this !

Monty Python meets DAoC imo... priceless!

 

[Aran Thule]

Bumped by public demand.

Alas couldnt find any new ones.

 

[Tasslehoff]

I still love these

 

[Jaem-]

Bubble kitten sounds cute. :-o

 

[Lakashnik]

lol that was a great read over 2days.

 

[toxii]

hillarious

loved the healing kitten,