Archive for the “Ultima Online Chronicles” Category

Despite the moral victory of the Nighthawk demonstration, there seemed to be far too much wrong on Baja for anyone, let alone poor Mu, to correct.  As if the rampant killing, bad language, and lousy tech support weren’t enough, there was a new curse on the land… the spell definition spam seen at left as the masked Maggot Boy invokes a gate.  What were the "powers that be" thinking?  Just what the world needs… more useless chatter slowing everyone down.  However, even in this sea of injustice and iniquity, there is always a glimmer of hope.  For now, it was in the pure and noble heart of Zander, the humble peasant boy in the aqua shirt, who had aspirations of making the world a better place one day, like his namesake.

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With the roadside revival tent business going downhill, Musashi decided that maybe he could make a difference for the WTFMAN? philosophy through some other means, like political activism.  Imagine his shock when he heard the news that avatar of WTFMAN? Nighthawk had been sentenced to exile from Sosaria on some very shaky grounds!  Ever curious to see what was happening, Mu ran off towards Castle British (minus his fake beard), and was greeted by someone shouting at him to dye his clothes red.  He then found a seat, wondering when the demonstration was happening, as someone named Ash recited poetry, obviously influenced by e.e. cummings, as indicated by the lack of capitalization.  Regardless, Musashi attempted to fit in as best as possible, joining the roleplaying-fest as he awaited the madness that would undoubtedly ensue when too many people sit around in the same place with nothing do do, as opposed to being spread out all over with nothing to do.

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Some people have asked me, why do you still play Ultima Online Mu?  It sucks!  I beg to differ.  Ultima Online is a high-fantasy role-playing game where you can be whatever you want… a warrior, a mage, a doctor, an animal tamer, a musician!  The excitement never ends.  To help illustrate this point to a wider audience, I have painstakingly assembled this, my FIRST UO COMIC, to help people understand the sort of action that keeps me addicted to this fantastic, massively multiplayer game.  This is just the barest glimpse of the wonders I behold every time I log in.  Are you with us?

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Having regained consciousness after his death at the hands of a treacherous horse and a corrupt law enforcement official and jumping a random gate, Mu found himself alone and lost, in some desolate swamp.  With no idea where he was or where to go, his quest to spread the word of WTFMan seemed impossible.  Not knowing where else to turn, he ran inside a building, hoping to find some kind soul who might take pity on him.  Luckily, the home’s owner appeared not long thereafter, and after a long period of laughing at Mu, returned him to physical form.  What a nice man!  Certainly this paragon of virtue would understand his quest, and perhaps be willing to assist him.

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How long can one sit in a keep in Hokuto, mindlessly studying anatomy and thinking about how smart a trapped paladin is (like she could be that smart if she got trapped in the first place)?  It does get maddening, and a feeling of guilt began to overtake Mu and Clove; shouldn’t they be out somewhere, doing charity work, tending to the spiritually barren, gettin’ da funk in they soul?  Clove took the initiative… Mu soon received a comm crystal message:  "I’m on Baja at the Ironwood Inn."  Heeding the call to preach the gospel, Mu quickly donned a cheesy fake beard and booked passage for Baja, registering himself under a humble and unassuming name.  Armed with a shepherd’s crook, a tambourine, and his unwavering faith, Mu joined Clove in the holy mission to spread the news of funny editorials and superb Shockwave Flash 3 movies available at the most sacred of UO websites.  Oh, and total enlightenment or something.

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Back around the Skara area, things were pretty much back to normal… Mu took to randomly walking around the road, pausing to chop a tree, hunt birds, and roast some meat over an open fire, a largely forgotten activity which had the pleasant side effect of raising not one but two skills which were largely considered to be useless.  There was also ample opportunity to hunt bigger game here… apparently all of the trolls, skeletons, lizardmen, spectres, ogres and orckin from the Atlantic shard had gotten tired of it as well and come to Catskills.  Eventually, there was so much fighting going on that Mu was forced to reluctantly trade in his ratty old studded leather armor and splintering shield for new gear, not so much out of any concern for his safety,  but more out of a lingering fashion sense from his old life.

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It was inevitable… as it is in all shards of Sosaria, Catskills soon became extremely boring.  This hardly came as a surprise to Mu; in a place where there are no real achievable goals outside of a meaningless title or a house full of loot, where morality is at best tenuous and completely subjective, where the King is dead, there is not much to look forward to day after day.  None of Mu’s old comrades were present here, and although he had made some passing acquaintances in Kinship, most of them tended to stick to their own and gave Mu funny looks when he mentioned "shards", as if he were interfering in some sort of fictional play universe they had set up for themselves.  Mu had also sadly been unable to locate his new friend Kull again since the cartoon scene at the bank.

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A magery-free life can be difficult, yet somehow the simplicity of it, the lack of running around for reagents, and the recent changes to the laws of nature *coughAnatomy/Healingcough* made it bearable, almost pleasant.  Finding an abundance of lumber, Mu dove into his new craft of bowyery, hiking around the woods, chopping trees, and whittling for hours.  It did take some getting used to… when Mu spied an orc headed his way on his second day in the woods, he immediately began to mumble Vas Ort Flam, forgetting that he no longer did that sort of thing.  However, even his horrid incompetence with the spear and the short bow was usually sufficient to handle his typical enemies, such as rabid timber wolves, hungry panthers, and fearsome songbirds.  The occasional bear insured that he was keeping up to date with his bandaging techniques.

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It felt strange to be chopping trees, especially to one as inured to mindless tailoring as Musashi, but after all, that’s what he had come to Catskills for… something akin to retirement.  On a whim, he had given over his house and possessions to the somewhat dubious care of Maraxus and entered the shard as a newcomer once again, seeking a life free of care, free of worry, free of tailoring, free of Kagero… It seemed too much to hope for, but the fact that Magnus of Occlo dwelled in Catskills gave him a small bit of hope… surely the prolific tank mage would refuse to dwell in a shard rife with idiocy and violence *coughAtlanticcough*.

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Bored bored bored… these three words should replace Truth, Love and Courage as the basis for the behavior of all Britannian citizens.  Mu must be excessively bored to the trying to fool this newbie into believing he was the proprietor of the Yew winery, an institution long known to make nothing at all nor to employ anyone.  How is it that Mu is always mistaken for a shopkeeper while he wears outlandish black robes and plate?  It must be his glassy-eyed stare, his born of incredible boredom, the shopkeepers’ born of hearing the words "Vendor Bank Buy Guards" ten thousand times per day.  Mu later helped the gullible young man defeat his first enemy, healing grievous wounds inflicted by a mad cow.

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