Ex_Libris

Yeah I also have Fraps. Haven't used it in CoH, but have used it in other mulitplayer games. Ususally FPS, which is very cool to watch yourself kickin some *** in game. Fraps files can get very large though, but if you have a good program to compress them, they can look very cool for a website playback. Or to share with your buddies.

The Unveiled Moon

Featuring Lunashae (Magic Blaster, Alliance of New Immortals, Virtue), and The Dark of Night (Magic Defender, Virtue)


The moon was full and bright on the night of Anshara’s doom. Floating majestically in the night sky, it illuminated the temple grounds and covered the twelve massive fluted columns that encircled the holy well in silvery streams, cascading over their ancient etchings and puddling in their crevices, bathing everything it touched in pure sacredness. Several cloaked and hooded figures stood silent and unmoving in the shadows cast by the columns. As one they watched the moon as it neared its zenith. When the moon was almost directly over the holy place, a soft shimmering appeared in the air inside the circle. The eldritch light grew stronger and brighter, and then solidified into the form of a woman. Tall and slender, pale as moonlight, she seemed at once to both absorb and reflect the light of the moon high above. A glistening translucent veil adorned the lower part of her face, and upon her brow she wore a circlet that disappeared on each side of her forehead under long silvery white hair. She was dressed in what could only be described as light given substance and draped in molten folds around her body, and her bearing was calm and regal, like that of a queen. A crescent moon formed entirely of pure light gleamed in sparkling splendor on her chest in a way that would have put the brightest of jewels to shame. For a long moment, the woman tilted her head up to the night sky. Then, looking around the circle at the silent figures, she said simply, “It has begun.”

One of the figures stepped forward and dropped to one knee. His hood fell back, revealing the careworn face of a man well advanced in his years, his features strained, his expression relieved. “Goddess Lunashae, we feared for you on your mission. Praise be to all the gods that you have returned to us.”

The moon goddess reached out her hand and helped the man rise. She then said, “Erathus, the world of Anshara has lost too many of both her divine and her mortal children to this evil being from the Netherwood that calls itself ‘the Dark of Night’.”

Lunashae paused for a moment, and a frown briefly crossed her perfect features. “This creature is threatening our people, our world, and our very existence. Another loss of a god and our plan for the beast’s destruction would be in jeopardy. That is why I could not risk taking the druid Loralis all the way to the creature’s stronghold.”

“Where is Loralis now?” asked Erathus.

“I took the druid as close as I could to the citadel without being detected by the creature,” answered the goddess. “The god Daveril the Farseer saw him make it into the citadel itself. Once inside, Daveril could see him no more.”

The man replied, “So Loralis has made it safely into the lair of the beast? Good! At least we have the blessing of that knowledge. We now have room for hope in our hearts. If everything goes as planned, it will not be long now until the fate of our world will be decided.”

“Yes,” said Lunashae. “For our plan to work, all Loralis has to do is to get close enough to the foul creature to touch it. This will be no small task, but all it will take is a single second of contact. Loralis carries a blessing from each remaining deity in the pantheon. Since Loralis is not one of my priests, I must return to the Halls of Fate and link my power with that of my mother, the earth goddess who bears the name of our world. She will know when her druid is in contact with the creature. I will then be able to use my power to bring Loralis through the ethers and into the Halls of Fate with the creature in tow. There, the seven gods that remain of our pantheon will be standing ready to confront and destroy it.”

“Do you think enough gods are left to accomplish this?” Erathus asked.

“I honestly do not know,” the goddess sighed. “The outcome of our endeavors is hidden even from Daveril. The creature’s power has grown so strong since its arrival in our world! Its army of dark servants from the Netherworld has worked its way through Anshara, devastating the lands and slaying our people. With each victory the beast has grown stronger and more powerful.”

The man nodded. “Yes, and at first the people did not recognize the creature for the threat that it was,” Erathus said. “We thought the beast’s arrival a good thing, since its first victims were back alley criminals and thieves. The people in the city where it first appeared applauded it as some sort of deliverer from evil.”

“During this time, it was only building its power,” declared the goddess. “Daveril warned his followers of an approaching doom, but the form that doom was to take was hidden from his sight. It was only when the creature’s power had grown so strong that we realized the truth.”

Erathus replied, “If only we could have somehow discovered the creature’s true name! This would have given us the power to banish both it and its followers back to the Netherworld, and we would have been spared this dark hour!”

“Yes,” agreed the moon goddess. “So many lives would have been saved. But somehow the beast has the power to hide the knowledge of its true name from us. One of the pantheon actually entered the Netherworld at great peril in search of the beast’s name but found nothing. It is as if the creature did not exist before coming to Anshara.”

Lunashae paused and bowed her head. A single tear fell from one of her eyes and dropped to the ground. When it hit, it splashed briefly into tiny shards of color and light. “I shall never forget when the first of the pantheon fell to this foul beast from the Netherworld. Andares was so sure of himself, so confident! He was our war god. None knew better than he the strategies of fighting and of battle.”

The goddess lifted her head and went on, “Our short sightedness cost us the victory that could have been won that day. We thought we were better prepared when Sariah of the Shadows took three of our number cloaked by her enchantments to face the monster. Somehow, it knew they were coming! Daveril used his power to show us the battle, and we watched as one by one, four more of our number were slain by the creature.”

For a long moment Lunashae was silent, offering her thoughts in quiet tribute to those that had fallen in the struggle. Then, reaching out her hands and taking the man by the shoulders, she looked intently into his eyes and stated, “Erathus, you have been the high priest of my followers for many years. Through the many trials you have faced you have always remained true and unwavering in your faith. I tell you now that what is coming may be your greatest challenge yet.”

The goddess dropped her arms and walked over to the holy well in the center of the circle and peered into its depths, as if trying to divine the future. The moon’s reflection on the water sparkled and danced, belying the gravity of the situation. Turning back to the high priest, she said, “I must warn you that even if we of the pantheon defeat the creature, our powers may be too weak to maintain the blessings we grant our followers. There may be a period while those of us who remain must recover before you know the outcome of our struggles.”

Lunashae looked out of the circle off into the distance toward the city. “The people of Anshara will be confused and frightened. It will be up to my priesthood and to all the chosen of Anshara’s deities to calm their fears and maintain order. Right now, the gods that remain are visiting their followers with this message as well. I pledge to you that as soon as one of us is able, you will know the outcome of the events that are soon to transpire.”

The goddess exerted her will, and slowly, she began to rise up into the air. Hovering over the assembly, she looked around the circle at each of the priests gathered there. Then, the goddess raised her voice and proclaimed, “Take heart and do not despair, my children! This so-called Dark of Night shall know that I am the moon goddess Lunashae, and I pour my love upon the world of Anshara just as the moon bathes our devastated lands in its glow. As the moon reflects the light of the mighty sun to Anshara, so shall I be a reflection of that light into the very heart of the darkness that plagues us!”





Lunashae lay in a crumpled heap on the ground, the celestial glow that usually played across her body a mere glimmer. Above her head, a constellation of unfamiliar stars wheeled in the heavens, and a pale moon peered weakly through what seemed to be a cloudy haze hanging low in the sky. Oh, it had gone so wrong from the beginning! The goddess Anshara had signaled, and Lunashae had immediately exerted her will and her power to bring the druid and the creature known as the Dark of Night to the Halls of Fate. An inky blackness had appeared in the circle of the deities and had coalesced into a monstrous dark being that had towered over the group. What had appeared to be long black hair draped over creature’s ebony shoulders, and horns curled up and back from the forehead. Wicked-looking spikes protruded along its arms and legs, and Lunashae could see that it was holding something in one of its ebony claws. The beast had regarded the assembled deities with eyes the color of deep amethyst, and a low, sinister chuckle had rumbled through the room.

“You wanted me to touch this?” the creature had spat contemptuously, and then had raised an arm to fling the object it was carrying at Lunashae’s feet. The goddess had looked down and had seen the head of the druid Loralis looking back at her, his mouth opened in a silent, frozen scream.

“All of you have been so predictable,” the beast had sneered. “Just like the all the others I have faced throughout the millennia of my existence. You are so locked into your lofty perceptions of yourselves that you cannot see beyond the molds in which you are cast.”

Then, the creature of darkness had laughed, a chilling cacophony of dread that had swept through the Halls of Fate like icy bony fingers from a grave. “When I feasted upon the soul of your puny war god, some of his knowledge became mine. Your strengths, your weaknesses, all were mine for the knowing. There is nothing any of you can do that I cannot counter. Prepare yourselves for the inevitable. Ready yourselves for the oblivion of darkness!”

For the first time in many centuries, Lunashae had felt fear. Not for herself, but for those she loved, and for the whole of Anshara. She had called forth her chosen weapon, a flaming sword forged from the reflected light of Anshara’s sun, and raising it aloft had cried, “Now!”

At Lunashae’s shout all the gods including Lunashae had let loose blast after blast of the various manifestations of their powers. Fire, ice, lightning, and raw energy had bombarded the beast from the Netherworld. Rooted in place from the barrage, the beast had writhed in pain as it had struggled to break free. However, although the Dark of Night was visibly weakening, it had soon become clear that even the combined might of all seven gods would not be enough to vanquish the beast and send it back into the darkness of the Netherworld that had given it birth. Already some of the deities had started to falter, their energies almost spent. Sensing this, the beast had roared in agony-soaked triumph and had increased its mighty struggles.

It was at this point Solan had stepped closer to the beast. The god of the sun and brother to Lunashae, Solan had glanced over at the moon goddess and nodded his head. It was only now that Lunashae realized he must have been saying goodbye. Moving within reach of the creature, he had spent what was left of his power in a fiery blast that had shaken the Halls of Fate and had created a tremble in the very fabric of existence. Like a phoenix rising from ashes, the fires of the sun god had risen and encircled the Netherworld beast with greedy flaming fingers. It had bellowed, blasts of rage and pain that had echoed throughout the Halls of Fate. But it had appeared severely wounded, noticeably drained and weakened! It had swiped out with its claws, catching Solan by the throat and drawing him into a dark embrace. As Lunashae had watched in horror, the beast had healed itself a bit by drawing the essence of Solan into itself until Solan had faded out of existence, the fires of his life absorbed into the Dark of Night.

Stunned, a dawning realization of what the cost of victory would be had slowly enveloped the remaining six deities. It was Laneros of the Frozen Hand who had next sacrificed himself. Then, one after the other the remaining gods had stepped in close to the beast and had made the ultimate sacrifice for their world. With each deity’s demise the Dark of Night had become less corporeal until the creature was a mere shadow of its former monstrous self. Finally, only Lunashae and Anshara herself had remained. Knowing that beast could still prevail if left alive, Lunashae had stepped forth to unleash the rest of her power in a mighty blast of raw energy that had sent the beast reeling. As it had fallen, it had reached out one of its claws and grabbed the moon goddess by the arm, ready to once again to work its foul deadly magic. It was at this point that the goddess Anshara had stepped forth and Lunashae had heard in her mind, “Daughter, you shall not die this day.”

What had happened next was still unclear to the moon goddess. Her mother had released her power, all the tremendous energies inherent in the earth, slumbering in the depths of volcanoes, waiting to burst forth in earthquakes, in one mighty explosion that had caused the Halls of Fate to shake and crumble. And somehow, in that blast Lunashae had been sent flying away from the Halls into...somewhere else.

The goddess slowly rose to her feet. The sensation of pain, normally so foreign to her, made her waver a bit on her feet. Steadying herself, she looked around and saw that she was standing next to a wide road adorned with strange white and yellow lines, some broken, some whole. It was still night, but the moon that adorned the sky was not the same bright moon that had just so recently washed the goddess in loving light. Instead, it was weak, and partially hidden from her gaze by hazy gray clouds. In the distance buildings the likes of which she had never seen soared skyward in great numbers.

Drawing a deep breath, Lunashae realized that she was naked except for the circlet she wore, so with a thought she attempted to clothe herself in the ribbons of moonlight that normally adorned her body. Oh, the power came so slowly, so very weak! The moonlight ultimately encircled her, but only with much effort did Lunashae bend it to her will. She then noticed her veil lying on the ground nearby. Undamaged and whole, it gleamed amidst the dirt at the side of the road, a silent sentinel of her past glory. The goddess bent to pick it up, and as she touched the veil Lunashae sensed that it still contained a bit of her energies within its sparkling folds. Donning the veil, the moon goddess breathed in a bit of her old power. A trickle of energy washed through her, refreshing her and restoring some of her precious essence.

Returning her attention to her surroundings, Lunashae noticed a sign beside the road covered in symbols unknown to her, obviously the language of this foreign world. The goddess concentrated, and as the mysterious shapes became words understandable to her she read, “Welcome to Paragon City.” Straightening her shoulders, Lunashae began walking in the direction of the strange buildings. It was time to start reclaiming her power, and ultimately, to find a way to return home.

Intent upon her destination and lost in her thoughts, Lunashae did not sense that she was not alone as she approached the city. Narrowed eyes the color of dark amethyst gleamed from the depths of the blackest shadows beside the road, and a low voice murmured, “Soon, little goddess…soon.”

The Beginning

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Name: The Praetorian Guard
Motto: To Honor with Dignity
Leader: Aegon
Player Type: Casual to Power Gamer
Number of members: ~19
Current member levels: 12-34
Recruiting?: Highly selective recruitment only
Normal time of Gameplay: 10:00AM-5:00AM EST
Other information: The City of Heroes division of The Praetorian Guard has members dating back to early CoH beta. We are a part of a larger gaming community with the same name who is on its second successful year.

If you are interested in TPG, please inquire at our web page by making a post on our forums.

Thanks and hope to see you in the field!

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"[Sly Fox] Make[s] statue angry! He [can] come here [and] I [will] splat [him]"
-The Statue

Hakan Reiver:
"Sly Fox. Yeah... I think I've heard of him...
The name rings a bell... kinda..."

Name: Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Heroes
Open to: Everyone, but mainly Europeans.
Requirements: Good sense of humour, anger management (not going out of control after a few deaths, but instead laughing about it), some involvement in conversations. Microphone if possible (we use Ventrilo to chat).
Aim: To make playing the game as fun as possible, by having a laugh among other things.
Time of play: Currently for most members 6-12pm GMT, for some all day (me :P). We hope to get it so there can be SG teams going on 24/7.
Contact us by: Visiting www.vullcan.com, or by messaging us in-game through Vullcan, Vullcan Empress, Chimaera, or Astrial.

This is the introduction to the story of Krogarth. More will soon come!

Enjoy!

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Another day and life groaned on in Paragon. The suns rays hurled themselves upon the living in impotent fury. They hammered themselves upon concrete, hid themselves within asphalt, avenged themselves upon the living, and diffused themselves through the trees. Its fury spent, benevolent light threaded its way though the thick canopy to gently alight itself upon the forest floor. The whimsical hit and miss of the ambiance created a paradoxical patchwork, a playful realm of light and shadow that warped reality in a way few mortals would ever be aware of.

It was an unseasonably warm spring, more akin to mid-summer, but that was to be expected after a record winter. Mori’ira smiled to himself; the powers were indeed drifting at their ebb and flow this cycle. He could see it, could feel it about him. The balance was unraveled; here heat, there shade, here light, there shadow, even the Rikti had played perfectly into the order, providing along with the heroes who strived unto death to counter them, the last contrast necessary to strain the other. The universe usually existed upon a grey scale, an area created between two dim poles—the very few good and the very few evil—as they strived to cancel one another. Recent events however, had flared the intensity of the two poles, and as their light raced towards each other, the mingled grey was nearly extinguished. Their buffer removed, the light and dark tore and rended one another, exposing rents in physical reality that one could exploit if one knew how. Mori’ira was certain he knew how; after all, a lifetime of study in the heretical scripts had to be worth something. The peace and quiet of Perez Park was disturbed only by birdsong and the rustle of wind through leaf. Mori’ira again smiled to himself, even his present circumstances contrasted with his ambitions. The ceremony would do well.

Mori’ira made his way through the park paths in full ceremonial regalia, his blood-red robe of office tugging this way and that in the breeze, its golden runic embroidery waving as a standard. As he approached the clearing, Mori’ira clutched his scepter of power to his chest in traditional processionary form. He paused at the tree break running his fingers over the hard wood staff and its forbidden engravings as he watched his underlings assemble. They had, as instructed, procured a victim for the ritual. The woman was young and athletic, clad in running shorts and a T-shirt; she had obviously been abducted from the park itself. She was gagged and bound and had been forced into a kneeling position. Her arms and legs had been tied to an adjacent stake in such a way as to thrust out her chest and rear back her head, brazenly the colorful university logo upon her shirt and exposing her throat. Mori’ira’s acolytes surrounded her, their plain, black robes and chilling silence an antithesis to her vibrant pageantry and desperate struggles. They awaited their master’s approached.

Mori’ira entered the clearing, his presence thrusting his acolytes to the ground, and all began a quiet monotonous chant, their tongues wrapping themselves about an unnatural, guttural language not meant for any human utterance—it’s every syllable a ringing death toll for the hapless mortals who defied the abyss this eve. As the tongue of hell rolled over the landscape, the wind died, the birds were silenced, and even the pretty bauble’s pitiful moans lapsed into silence. Mori’ira strode towards the circle, the hem of his robe and the shaft in his hands glowing almost imperceptivity as the runes gathered power. He reached the circle and intoned the few fateful syllables he had first read so long ago. “Arhis’tomae’zal’tak.” Immediately the chanting ceased, and a black puddle spread from Mori’ira’s feet, wilting the grass and charring the newly exposed earth to resemble the after effects of a lava flow. As Mori’ira stepped into the circle, the dark pool wrapped itself about the victim's body in bands, crumbling the rope and stake to dust and incinerating her clothes. As her skin cracked and reddened under the band’s evanescent touch, the victim tried to rise, but the bands held her firmly in place. As her proud features became marred by fear, the victim began to weep with panic. Her gag was gone, but she was so terrified she could voice not but hiccupping sobs. The darkness continued to corrode her flesh, turning her tears blood, that flowed and congealed around her visage, but far worse was the damage to her soul. She could feel things, horrible things, crawling about her brain. They were carapaced and thorny, and as they wriggled their segmented bodies about the soft tissue, their mandibles ravaged her memories; consuming her—her very essence—and leaving only blind horror. Mori’ira grasped the victim by the chin, and as he stared deep into her eyes he watched her mind collapse. When she was gone, leaving her adrenaline seeping corpse for madness, Mori’ira drew his face to within a breath of hers.

“So pretty.” He whispered, and he kissed her deeply. The kiss went on an unnaturally long time, and quickly moved from a lover’s embrace to a voracious feeding. Mori’ira felt her ethemeral substance flow into him, and in one languid motion he broke the kiss and slit her throat with a bejeweled dagger secreted within his robes. As the victim’s body slowly liquefied within the spreading pool, her gaping throat wept blood in fat drops. When the drops hit the pool, there came a ghastly shrieking as the drops changed into the chitinous horrors of the victim’s mind. They raced towards the acolytes as Mori’ira turned and screamed. His cry was not mortal, it was an unholy marriage of conflicting harmonies—basso and soprano, dulcet and baritone—that tore the other as they sounded. The hellish beetles reached the acolytes and began consuming their flesh. Even the acolyte’s cultish discipline could no longer hold, and as Mori’ira’s unnatural chorus caught in his throat, the acolytes broke and ran. Mori’ira fell upon all fours, heaving. He felt an impossible pain reaving its way up through his bowels, and a moment later he vomited a great cloud of thorny horrors. Out they came in a continuous river for several minutes, taking immediately to the air, blotting the sky for nearly a mile overhead. They flew in a great circle, like a tempest from the very depths of hell, then as one they flew straight into the pool about Mori’ira’s body. The pool began to vibrate violently, shattering the burnt and darkened earth. Finally, there was a terrible flash, an outpouring of raw power that traveled as a shockwave over the land of the living, consuming everything in its path. The fleeing cultists flesh was vaporized, instantly, and a heartbeat later their bleached skeletons fell to the earth, fracturing to dust. Moments later, all was quiet.

Mori’ira looked around nervously. He was fortunate that the portals backlash had not traveled beyond the clearing. He did not want to attract any more attention. The clearing was utterly lifeless. Not a thing was left standing. The portal had obviously opened, but where was Mori’ira’s prize? A bestial grunt belatedly alerted Mori’ira to a presence at this back. “That’s odd, I should be able to feel it…” he thought as he turned to behold his creature.

The thing was massive, towering almost twice Mori’ira’s height and massing easily three times his weight. Its features were uniformly black with a midnight touch of blue in faint bands here and there. Surreal blackness massed in a wriggling cloud all about the thing, emanating twisted, discordant tones as tendrils of liquid smoke reached out to grasp anything that approached within a meter. Mori’ira peered through the shroud; he could make out a body as of stone, thickly muscled, yet fluid, topped by a vaguely carapaced head. The only indication of eyes were two pits atop its skull, their presence betrayed by a stark white glow that penetrated even their master’s gloom. Then, as Mori’ira watched, the thing sprouted an arsenal of spines in the blink of an eye. There was a sickening sucking and splattering noise, and an impossible array of bone spears, yellowed and glistening, adorning its back, many the length of a man’s leg. As mori’ira watched both terrified and fascinated, the thing surged forward in a blur, and there was only pain.

Krogarth was greatly confused. He had been sucked away from his home and his duties in the abyss to this place, this place so…green. He sniffed, he could smell some elements of home here, pain and strife high among them, but the place also reeked of…good, of life, and well, not-fear was the only term he could apply. This angered Krogarth and perhaps frightened him as well. Annoyed, he took in his immediate surroundings. No stones, no lava flows, no pits teeming with the damned crying the weakness for all of Hell to hear. What was this horrid place?

A man-thing before him turned to face him, its eyes staring at his in defiance, and it did not reek of fear! Enraged, Krogarth rushed forth and impaled the thing on his right arm, hoisting it into the air. The gratifying fear-scent bathed his nostrils, and for a moment, Krogarth was happy. But it did not last, for the man-thing soon stopped moving and the fear faded. Krogarth brought the thing’s face to his and roared his vehemence, gratified by its echo through this most strange of lands of lands; but the thing did not stir. Frothingly violent, Krogarth bit a ragged chunk from the thing’s face….nothing. Krogarth grasped the thing’s head in his hands and twisted, reveling in the satisfying crick-crack that ensued many times over, but still nothing. Normally Krogarth could maul and savage these beings for centuries, and the exquisite fear would always flow, but this one must be broken. Bored now, Krogarth flung the bit of refuse aside, its body snapping on the tall green stones in half on impact, and began to leave. He had best find more worthy souls to torture, lest the Baators find him. Krogarth smelled his own fear at this prospect, and quickened his pace into the trees.

Ring of Valor accepting new members. Looking for casual to hardcore gamers, we currently have about 30 members, some active, some not. Our levels range from 10 all the way to 23 for primary characters. Send a tell to dark shinobi or wacker in game, or visit... www.ringofvalor.tk Thanks!

Why just yesterday I saw a Captian Canada and asked him to please sing me "O' Canada". No reply, none at all.

Running along I found the The Tiger whom I tried to engage in a conversation about how much I liked his breakfast cereal and if he's do a "They're Grrrreeat!" for me. No response. None.

So I've come to the conculusion that these heros where playing as if they where mutes and thus unable to talk.

Handicapping is the only answer that makes sense to me. Right?

TargetDummy
Guardian Server

Love it, Blue_Volt, thanks alot.

Btw a cpl of your file names are wrong for flybind3, other than that it worked perfectly.

-=29-May-2004=-

-=Communications Uplink Esablished=-
-=Message Upload Initiated=-

To: The Flesh and Other Beings of Paragon City

Greetings. Today will start the begining of a new era in Paragon City and as well for the MECH Empire. Today is the begining of the formation of the MECH Empire. Purfications of the lessers to be made into MECH Units shall begin immeaditly. Extermination for those who appose the Empire will proceed afterwards. The choice of "Purfication" and "Extermination" are solely your's, but either way, the ways of GOND will be brought upon this world.

Glory to Gond.

Emperor Dench
Fifth Flight - Seraphic Malice
~ Death To The Nonbelievers ~
M.E.C.H. Empire

-=Message Upload Complete=-
-=Communications Uplink Terminated=-

OOC: For those intrested in "Purfication" e-mail me at SlickRik_Gemini@hotmail.com or check-out the site M.E.C.H. Empire

also how whould you do something like when you press your sniper power it say pulling "name of the target"?

Pretty easy. Just cut-n-paste this into your chat window:

/bind \ "beginchat /team <color red><bgcolor blue>"

Everytime you press '\', the chat line will activate and have the text above in already. Just type your message. Previous posts in this thread talk about something similar too. Hope that helps!

I was just wondering how you would bing the key "\" to talk in the group channel with colors?

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Thankies i was wondering what server was the roleplaying one, Seems ima be getting the game tonight hehe,Also is their like a class system.

Like on chimerla for swg we had a thing where like roleplayer class 1 would repersent prema death and class 6 would be like no roleplaying person vs person fighting and all the way inbetween anything like on virture ((So tried so sorry for all the bad sentences and fragments and typos x.x))

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Nothing like that. Of course there is also no PvP.

TargetDummy
Guardian Server

i dig that spot, shouldn't be too hard to get to for most people either.

Thankies i was wondering what server was the roleplaying one, Seems ima be getting the game tonight hehe,Also is their like a class system.

Like on chimerla for swg we had a thing where like roleplayer class 1 would repersent prema death and class 6 would be like no roleplaying person vs person fighting and all the way inbetween anything like on virture ((So tried so sorry for all the bad sentences and fragments and typos x.x))

Name: The Trilateral Commision
Leaders: CorporateRaider, Yes Man, Troubleshooter
RP: Encourage
Contact: In game tells and emails

We are a group of mature players that understand LIFE comes first. We enjoy power gaming as well as Roleplaying. TLC believes there is a time and place for almost anything. If you enjoy good friendship with a smattering of roleplaying and absolutlt FUN, then we are the group for you.

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ooc ::
Hiya all,
I am gonna be getting the game tonight and wanted to know if there is any basic things to know about roleplaying in city of heros, I have roleplayed in many other games as furc and swg and eq,And i know theres always basic so if anyone can tell me or help me out here thankies a bunch.

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Ok. The unofficial rp server is virtue. There are role players on all the servers so dont let that entirely influence but as a percentage they might be higher on that server.

Coh... can be fairly fast paced which might limit the rp'ing that can be done in and between combat (since even downtime is shorter than in other RPG's).

But it's there if you want it - expetially if you initiate it. Who knows the other people you run across may be shy...

Edit: Oh yes, you also get an ID to fill out with a Bio when you make you're character. I encourage you to do so - you can do it AFTER you get in the game so you know what name to put it - but do fill it in sometime. Including in it the line at the end (Roleplayer) might help since people do read your ID.

Know I do anyway.


TargetDummy
Guardian Server
"Will post for stars"

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Is there a way to convert these demos?

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Nope. The only thing in the world that knows how to read them is your City of Heroes program.

As somebody said earlier, you could do a demodump option and set it to 10fps or something, then take the resulting TGA files and load those into some animator program. It won't be anywhere near the quality of the actual demo, though.

Demos still crash a lot. A few of mine work but even those only work sometimes. I'll play a demo back and it will run all the way through just fine. Then I'll try to play it again and it will crash on load.

A new data entry has popped up in the demo text files, too. XLU. It shows up toward the end of some character models. Dunno what it is yet. (Testing is kinda hard when you crash four out of five times just starting the demo.)

[ QUOTE ]
I know you want me, there is no denying that and I will try to give you as much as I can, but there is simply not enough time for me to get to everyone! I can give you life, it’s true. I can heal with a touch, I can seduce with a smile. I’ll charm you with chat all the while. I’ve always been gifted, it’s not really important why. What is important is what I do with it. I may be Vain, but I have reason to be. I may be Vain, but I am sensitive and I treat my friends with care. I love them after all and I want to do everything I can for them. But I AM a corporate leader. I have to make tough decisions and I never let my heart get in the way. I’m a man of the people and if I can find you work, I will. If I can save you some trouble or time, it’s done. But don’t ever look for me to help you if you can’t see your way to helping others.

[/ QUOTE ] Vain Alias, at your service. CEO of Secret Identity Corp. Always seeking information on the Rikti Threat. Always ready to lend company limo's to friendly heroes needing a ride. (ooc- a port within the same zone I'm in at the time)
We need to watch the 5th Column, it seems that the Rikti and the 5th may be working together...any solid information appreciated.
[ QUOTE ]
We are those who see what others cannot for we are those who are what they cannot see. We are what they cannot be. Secret Identity!

[/ QUOTE ]

Why not the roof of City Hall itself? Lower levels who are "in the know" only need ask a more skilled hero to teleport or fly them there. We can call it our "Rooftop Coffee Shop". Now...if we can only convince Cyrptic to set up some tables and chairs...and maybe an espresso machine in a corner...

ooc ::
Hiya all,
I am gonna be getting the game tonight and wanted to know if there is any basic things to know about roleplaying in city of heros, I have roleplayed in many other games as furc and swg and eq,And i know theres always basic so if anyone can tell me or help me out here thankies a bunch.

Joe Gattus- Natural Scrapper
Martial arts/Reflexes
Brief Origin: Joe is just a regular guy. No tights, no super powers to speak of... Inspired by the countless defenders of Paragon city, Joe has taken to the streets with his best efforts to keep the citizens safe from evil.

David Mandrake-Magic Controller
Mind Control/Storm Summoning
Brief Origin: Using his mystical third eye, David can control the minds of others, or even the weather itself!

Jorge Julio- Natural Blaster
Fire blast/Fire Control
Brief Origin: After tiring of being the jewel in the Baltimore Orioles bullpen, Jorge Julio has taken to the streets, ready to toss a fastball of justice! Using his fantastic arm, he spews flames from his arms like there are two outs in the ninth!

'I really should have let Daene teach me how to hover,' she sighed, already more than halfway to the ground. With arms outstretched gracefully and her weapon readied, Jessamin closed her eyes for a moment, summoning the deep calm that always manifested as a soft light surrounding her and allowed the strength of will that allowed one to shrug off all but the most devastating of attacks. Her gauntleted fists, too, began to glow a firey orange only seconds before she landed, stilletto first, on the back of one of the Outcasts. Grinding her other heel into the ganger's hand she almost smiled, her voice coming out soft and deadly quiet.

"I thank you for the soft landing, Scum; now, if only your 'brothers' were so useful...."

The spiked head of her mace crashed into a stunned Brick's face and just as quickly a reverse swipe caught him across the ribs with a sickening 'crunch,' after a quick punch to his jaw, Jess turned to her next target, convinced that at least this one's attacks would fall on her and no other. She swung with no care for herself, no timed pace that would conserve her strength as these first seconds were most crucial; her movements made no sense .. unless one was behind her to see that she fought to defend the other women. She danced among ice and lightning, her mace landing again and again, .. nearly as often as the swipes of her foes that she would allow herself to feel much, much later.

In spite of the grim lines of her face, Jessamin's eyes lit brilliantly from within the recesses of her charcoal-grey hood. Only a few moments longer....