Many folks will recall the not-so-distant days of guilds such as Ne Plus Ultra and Equilibrium setting up camp (often for months on end) in order to protest the arrival of Avatars and other unsavory, contested individuals.  These Avatars and other folks were part of the 1% crowd -- creatures who had amassed such vast amounts of wealth that, no matter how many times they were dispatched, would always drop chests chock full of treasure and coin upon their demise.  Whereas a typical Norrathian might be lucky to assemble a single patchwork collection of gear, these 1%ers had boxes of unused armor, jewelry, weapons, and coin simply tucked away in their overcoats.  The masses were angry, and for good reason.

Eventually, those 1%ers stopped appearing in our public spaces.  The powers-that-be had apparently realized that with each slain 1%er, the howling masses of the 99% were growing stronger and bolder.  With the departure of Avatars and other contested beasts, Norrath became quiet.  No more AFK camps.  No more ACT death triggers.  No 3am phone calls seeking to rally the masses in response to the arrival of a hated 1%er.

With nothing to camp, and nowhere to protest, it seemed Norrath might become a place of quiet contentment where only those who were afraid to enter the mythical Rift were likely to visit.  Not so, however, as Norrath expanded to encompass the lands of Velious!  The people of Velious had problems of their own -- similar to those faced by Norrath in the past.  Once-beautiful places such as Sullon's Spire, Tallon's Stronghold, and Vallon's Tower had been overrun by all matter of sweaty, poorly-behaved, raucous beasts.  It was not long before Norrath called upon the services of <Ancient Legacy> to clear out these unwanted creatures.

Despite concerted efforts to reach a peaceful negotiation, and regardless of the guild's proven track record of effectively dispatching all manner of beasts, the Velious mobs refused to budge.  By November 13, 2011, the situation had reached a boiling point.  <Ancient Legacy> posted notice that all mobs must immediately disassemble.  Unfortunately, the warning went unheeded.  Late in the evening on November 13, <Ancient Legacy> cleared all of EM Drunder.  By the end of the night, the only things left to clean up were a few scattered bits of paper... I saved one as a memento...

  

There was once a mage named Mak who was brave and quick-witted. She lived with her guild-mother, Ants, in a large hall on the docks of Antonica and their most valuable possession was their cow, Makenzy. (Ants was not very original in naming). But the day came when Makenzy gave them no milk and Mak's guild-mother said the cow must be sold.

"Take her to market," Ants told Mak, "and get Mama some good loot for her."

So Mak set out to market leading Makenzy by her halter. After a while she sat down to rest by the side of the road (because high elves are unaccustomed to physical exertion). A really, really old and curiously hairy man came out of his nearby double-wide and approached Mak and her cow.  Mak didn't particularly like the glint in the stranger's eye, so she mumbled, "Market... cow... selling..." under her breath, hoping the man would go back inside.

"Howdy.  The name's Tali," the old man said. "Y'all don't bother to go to the market.  Figure you sell that there cow to me an' I'll pay good. Look at these here beans. Ain't they beauts?  Only gotta plant 'em, and come mornin' y'all'll find you dun got the finest bean plants in all of Texas. Those right there're scarcer than hens teeth!  How many is five, young lady?"

"Multiply it by 10,000 and you'll have my damage per second," replied Mak, as sharp as a needle.

"K, sure.  I'll take your word on that, seeing as how I'm not good with the numbers.  Here are five beans," said Tali and he handed the beans to Mak and took Makenzy's halter.  "Now skeddadle. I'mma go back 'n eat my possum pie."

When she reached home Ants said, "Back so soon, Mak? Did you get a good price for Makenzy?  Does it have a red adorn slot?"

Mak told her guild-mother how she had exchanged the cow for five beans, but before she could finish her account Ants started to shout and box her ears. "You lazy good-for-nothing elf!" she screamed, "How could you hand over our biggest dpser for five old beans? What will I wear now? Sentinel's Fate gear is so last season!  Lick my balls!"

She flung the beans through the open window and sent Mak to bed without clearing the quest from her journal.

When Mak woke the next morning there was a strange green light in her room. All she could see from the window were green leaves. Quickly, Mak got dressed and stepped out through the window.

"Either Flaxie's been decorating, or Tali was right," she thought as her eyes landed on the giant beanstalk. "They must indeed be very special beans."

She immediately sent 23 invites and placed the banner right on the stalk.  As soon as everyone's kids were otherwise occupied, the raid gathered and started to climb.  Higher and higher they climbed until at last they reached the top and found themselves on a strange road. They followed it until they came to a great castle where they could smell the powerful odor of large, sweaty men.  

"Jeff, dude," Ryld said, nose scrunched in distaste.  "Lighten up on the eau de Barbarian next time, will ya?"

Jeff, having not read group chat, simply continued on.

"I don't think that's Jeff," said Fezmund, pointing straight ahead.  "There are giants here!"

"Everyone's a giant to a pipsqueak like you," said Uglist, towering above him.  He considered him a moment.  "You know, this rabbit on my head is starting to molt.  A gnome would make a great hat..."

Just then, the ground shook violently.

"ADDS!" yelled Yraen.  "ASSIST ME!"

And they did.

Mak and her 23 friends, being fierce and terrifying, attacked the giants with weapons swift and sure.  They sliced and crushed, incinerated and envenomed, felling them one right after the other.  Giants flocked to their deaths and the raiders stripped their corpses of valuables, donning the treasures they found and making themselves even stronger.

And then they came upon a beast they could not slay.

After the mender bots had all been spent, the raid turned to the mighty leader, Callio.  Clutching his pink beer tightly to his chest, he bellowed:

"Fee fi fo fum,
Shit, you guys - we'd better run!"

They hurried down the halls in the direction they had come, their griffons' large feathers thwacking each other in the face as they fled.

"You guys!" Thogg's voice came from behind them.  "What about me?"

Everyone turned and watched as the troll fell over and over again, each time bouncing back up.  The giant was using him like a chew toy, dinging his armor but never piercing it.

Their leader, being a wise strategist, saw this as the necessary distraction it was.  "Leave him!"  Callio ordered, and the raid continued their escape.

They tumbled down the beanstalk, hurtling toward the earth.  When they reached solid ground, they looked up to the sky in fear as giant feet appeared in the clouds above them.

The mighty Myrose hefted her weapon.  "Someone help me with this weed!" she called.


"But what about our loot?" the others asked.

"Don't worry," Mak told them, guiding a hail of rocks toward the root of the great vine, "I know a hick who's got some beans."

"Maple baked beans, eh?" asked Rhalina excitedly.

"Refried beans?" Gauzepad wondered.

"Chili beans!" exclaimed Etoh.

"I only eat soy beans," declared Thryll and Lhaffinatu in unison.

Mak waved them off.  "Even better!  They're magic beans!"

"They better be magic," muttered Zephanor as they walked away, "because somebody is going to have to lick Ants' balls."

Watch out, <Ancient Legacy>!  The almighty Zeus is angry and an individual from our own ranks is to blame.  TMZ.com recently posted this picture of Hera (Zeus' beloved) with our very own Thogg:


Seriously Thogg... if you plan on more indiscretions among the elite of Mt. Olympus, at least decline the opportunity to pose for a commissioned painting.  Sheesh!  Zeus, of course, responded with a barrage of lightning bolts directed at the docks of Antonica, hoping to score a direct hit on the guild hall.  Our only recourse was to strike back at his ammunition supply.

On February 3 we braved the heat of the deep, dank forges of Underfoot Depths.  Residing in the darkness was Haephus, known to many as Hephaestus, the god of blacksmiths, craftsmen, artisans, sculptors, metals, and fire.  His resume also indicates he is the primary weapons supplier for a whole slew of gods.  We spent a few hours pounding back and forth, and by the end of the night Mr. Haephus had another entry for his resume -- Ancient Legacy's Bitch.  We let him go back to his forge, but every time we wander near Underfoot Depths, we hear a new sound coming from the forges...


Great work <Ancient Legacy>!  And as far as Zeus goes... cover your heads and watch out for lightning bolts -- at least until Zeus runs out of stock.  We did just do away with his personal weaponsmith, after all.  And Yraen... do us a favor and go /showhelm out in an open field for a while, will ya?  I hear that Rangers make great distractions...