There and Hopefully Back Again: An LOTRO LP

It will be on Landroval. I'll probably create it tomorrow night, so everyone has another day to suggest names. I'm kinda liking Company of the the Broken Forge. (Assuming I can use that many characters.)

Happy Yule Festival!

Let's take a break from the narrative for a day to talk about something LOTRO does extremely well: Events. While the game lacks the player driven content of Star Trek Online, for example, or the late lamented City of Heroes and Star Wars Galaxies, the developers tap into our real life calendar better than any of them. Turbine leverages off the relationship between Middle Earth and our Earth, as well as the character of Hobbits to approach in-game holidays in a way that doesn't break immersion, which is something many other mmos struggle with.

Currently, LOTRO is holding its annual Yule Festival. Each Festival has its own distinct personality and events. There are certain global festival events, like quests for the Hobbit Inn League or their sworn enemies the Dwarven Ale Association. There are racial dances to be learned, and horse races to be run, but there are also season specific events. For the Yule Festival, those events are held in Winter-Home a winter wonderland located in a pocket instance within Middle Earth. (In other words, you must swift travel there and cannot stumble upon it in your travels.)





Within Winter-Home there are a number of events which grant you festival tokens. These tokens can be turned in for cosmetic clothing, off-hand props, horses, furniture, or even titles. The nice thing about these events, at least in my mind, is that they are not about fighting and killing things. They are very quaint and hobbity. There are snow ball fights and pie eating contests, and a play which you can jeer. It's something I'll talk about more as Ansa progresses in the Shire, but the attention to the lore and to the source material is something I truly appreciate in LOTRO. It's not without its humor, but you will never something immersion shattering like a Gangnam style emote in this game.

The Yule Festival runs through January 1st and is open to all characters regardless of level.

Some pictures from Winter-Home:














Merry Xmas from Middle Earth

For all those interested, I will be forming the kinship tonight. I already purchased the kinship writ. I only need activate it. Once I do, we have 5 days to get 8 members. I don't think that will be a problem. I will probably drop in and out of the game, if I'm not online, send me a PM and I will jump on and send you a kinvite.

FYI: You must be through the starter instance into the world proper to join a kin.

The Company of the Broken Forge has been created. Send me a PM here, or /tell in game to join.

It is the RP server, but the guild is RP optional. If people want to RP, I'm all for it. That's why I went to Landroval in the first place, but it won't be required.

There are ways around it. Unless you're going to play an elf, a detailed knowledge of Middle Earth isn't necessary. Men or Hobbits of the third age are pretty ignorant of the world. It's a localized agricultural society wherein people rarely traveled further than 50 miles from their homes their entire lives.

Now, if you did want to play an elf there are some heavy expectations. Unlike other games with elves, Tolkien's elves have a detailed history and established characteristics. Like an idiot, I rolled my first character as an elf. I knew very little of the lore at the time, and had to do a lot of reading to make her believable, but then again my kinship was a pretty hard core group of RP'ers. That certainly won't be the requirement here.

I'm online now and probably will be for a little while. Send a /tell to Ansa and I'll invite you.

Judging by last night, we have a great group of people in the kin!

If you still need a kinvite, you can contact myself on Ansa, or Quatoria on Nellarviel.

Still upset with myself and that right bastard what forced me to kill 'em, I took the Kingsfoil back to Strider. I glowered at him with all me might, but he didn't seem to pay any mind. His attention was on Amdir. The poor sod had grown paler since I last saw him. He seemed to look at something behind me, never quite focusing on the Ranger or me. I felt a bit bad about given Strider the old what for, but it had been a long day and I'm just not use to the sort of thing what we were doing. So I told Strider, in no uncertain terms, that I appreciated his help springing me and all, but I needed to get home to Gran. Poor thing was probably worried sick. That took his mind from Amdir for the moment. He looked at me and smiled. It was the sort of smile an old dog has, the one who's been round the tree a few times and knows a thing or two. He said he understood, and wished a safe journey. I felt horrible leaving him like that. I mean I didn't know who he was at the time, or the way of things outside the Shire. I just wanted to see me Gran.

On me way out of town, with a pack lunch for the journey, a strange man waved at me from his farm. He was calling "Boy! Boy! Oi! Come 'ere!" I didn't much appreciate being called boy so I set him right straight on a few things. He apologized for the mistake, though I'm not quite she I believed him. He asked me about what was going on in the village, about Strider and the hurt Ranger. I told him what I knew. Why shouldn't I have? I didn't know he was tricksy. He thanked me and sent me on my way. Our next meeting wouldn't be so friendly.




It was a pleasant afternoon on the road from Archet. I lit me pipe and whistled a tune happy to be going home. Not but a few hours down the road did I come to an obstacle in me path. Some cheeky bastards had set up a barricade preventing anyone from leaving Archet. I tried to talk me way through, but the men just insulted me; told me to go home. I said I was, and they laughed some more. I was getting angry.





I left the barricade to find help. The first place I came upon was a farmhouse within sight of the ruins I had earlier explored. The men knew about the barricade, but not what to do. They told me to go find a huntsman who was staying at an old cabin.






The cabin was me kind of place what with all the dead animals and all the meat a hobbit could eat, and you know how hobbits can eat. I licked me lips just walking into that kitchen. The huntsman wouldn't have none of it though. He said I was small and crafty and I agreed. I told him I was a good hunter me self. So he had me scout for him.








I'm jumping ahead a bit as nothing much happened there. They didn't see me, and I managed to swipe a pretty important looking satchel.







I got back to the cabin and the huntsman discovered they was plans to attack the village. He said we had to go, that we would get there before nightfall. I told him I'd be fine there. The meat looked really good, but he insisted. We ran almost all the way there, but we was too late. The village was already burning.






We raced through the town. Death and destruction in our path. We fought our way toward the town center. Me in the back with me bow. The huntsman fighting with a sword. I could barely see through the smoke. I don't remember much from that day, but the screaming. The trapped and dying. The anguished cries for help as villages watched their loved ones die, powerless to do anything. My previous guilt over that man's death vanished. I thought dark thoughts. I wanted to make things right and shooting arrows into invaders seemed like the best way. I dunna think so now, but it was the beginning. Reflection comes later.







We made it to the town square. A small group of defenders remained, fightin' the bastards back. I tried to look for Strider, but in all the chaos it was impossible. Later I would find out he wasn't present for the attack. He had bigger things to worry about. Suddenly a great shriek filled the night sky. We were frozen in place. Terrified by some unseen terror. I heard the huntsman mumble something. Turning slowly I saw, through the flames, that strange man what questioned me earlier flanked by two cloaked monsters.





The Captain of the guard tried to resist. The creatures gutted him, then took Amdir away. For some reason I still don't understand, the strange man remained behind, I guess to finish us off. The huntsman thought different and bloody well took his head off. I'm ashamed to say this now, but I cried out in joy when it happened. The joy didn't last; never does. I slumped to the ground, exhausted. Tears streamed down me cheeks, while all around the town burned.





Appendix of Snark



Get your own damn horse.


And a bonus, just because I liked the picture: