1277 réponses à ce sujet

[Aldatariel Calentaur]

Not sure if it works, but try here: http://www.petalsand...opic.php?t=1633

Modifié par Aldatariel Calentaur, 19 mai 2011 - 09:15 .

[Meeszy Alexy]

^ I have a Windows XP computer, and it works fine with my NWN copy, though sometimes it doesn't trigger, but what can you do? *shrug*

[Deliciously-Demonic]

I'm more upset about it because of my newer games, like Sims 3 and Dragon Age 2 absolutely positively hate being installed on XP. I learned this the hard way when trying to put them on my gramma's second computer.

Whew, there it is, thanks bunches, A.C! You're a dear.

I'm writing the chapter for Zorvak'mur or whatever it's called, and I must say, I can't stop laughing at what I'm writing. Elizabeth and Valen, the ex-slaves of the party, mocking slavery, Nathyrra calling them on it, Rikardo sighing and facedesking repeatedly when Liz says something stupid in an attempt to flirt with Valen...
Ah, good times to be had by all.

I just wish it didn't have to be Elizabeth who had to pretend to be a thrall. -shakes head- Poor kid.
(I've decided to make it a running gag that Elizabeth is suppose to be this horrible liar who can't bluff...but she can, and she does it best of everyone, so good she can actually convince them she's a bad liar. xD)

[Deliciously-Demonic]

-can't think of a properly funny comment at the moment, please stand by-

Wait, I've got it...no, no that'll never do.
Oh well. -noms Valen- <3:wub:<3

Mayhaps I should legally change my last name to Shadowbreath? 

Modifié par Deliciously-Demonic, 19 mai 2011 - 10:13 .

[Drima]

._.

Hey...

Not fair...

[Aldatariel Calentaur]

Hehe ... did that too, a few years ago. It just feels weird to share your "husband" with several other women. Valen is married to 19 people by now!

[Deliciously-Demonic]

I pretend that they're all exes. >

So long as they aren't Evil, haven't formed the Evil Exes Society or something like that, and I don't have to Duel the to the Death.
-recently watched Scott Pilgrim vs. The World-

Ooh, D-D is working on a Post-HotU module now. Not progressing much, since she has no idea how to build or script. >:C
Basically you and Valen are on the run, trying to avoid those stuck-up prigs in Waterdeep, and you end up getting stuck on a mountain with a snowstorm about to hit. Then this weird fey'ri chick named Alaelia Repar comes out and offers you shelter.
Several different choices ensue, but all lead to the same thing; Alealia turns out to be a girl from Valen's past (they worked in the same theives' guild in Sigil until they both got dragged into the Blood Wars). She's pissed off that he forgot about her and attempted to kill her at least four times in the Blood Wars, so she tiefling-naps him, forcing the PC to go on a quest to get her tiefling back. Alaelia has three henchman who serve as three mini-bosses, and with each one you defeat you get closer to Alealia. Also, new henchies. Thinking of adding a Rikardo cameo. Questgiver or something, mayhaps?

So much drama for this. So much.
Anywho, besides to teasing you, I mentioned this hoping someone could help me figure out how to build this crap. Otherwise all the areas will be little squares of varius sizes. x3

[Aldatariel Calentaur]

I'd love to help you (as my own project, the "serious" one, is hopeless, anyway for several reasons *cry*, still I will work on it just for my personal pleasure'), I'd just need more information on what, exactly, is your problem.

My suggestion would be: just continue playing with the Aurora toolset. Check the NWN vault and the old Bioware forums for any tutorials you can grab. Use the search functions by typing in: "tutorial". There are tutorials for almost everything, from noob to pro! From basic module creating to how to edit haks, 2da's , adding any other custom stuff to advanced scripting. If you still run into any problems, just ask: I would need more information though (like some of your scripts/code). I can't promise anything, though as my scripting skills probably are somewhere between totally noob and slightly advanced ...

[Aldatariel Calentaur]

Searching for some old crap I might share with you ... as I just feel like I should give something in return. DD or Alex, if you are interested, I will send all my story fragments to you ... almost like Tania (Alex will know what I mean). Here's just the beginning of what was meant to be a story about Valen's past/grandparents.

Sorry for me not caring about formatting, but this is old trash, nothing more.

The Abyss, layer #777; Year of the Deep Moon {1}, Eleint {2}13

Like other true tanar’ri, he didn’t notice the malodor any more, the smell of sulfur and scorched flesh everything here gave off. Standing 12 feet tall, with huge bull-like horns and bat-like wings, flames covered his red skin as it was typical for demons of his kind.

Gildranoth, also known as the Burning Flame, was not amused, and a balor being “not amused” typically meant that even more unfortunate souls than usual had to suffer unbearable torture. Today, even the loud screams of pain and horror, the music of the Abyss, didn’t give him any pleasure. Not only had he slain less devils than Grimash’t during the last battle, thus being second to his arch rival again. After his return he had learned that his favorite slave had escaped. To make it worse, the **** had stolen a weapon from his collection, too.

The blue-eyed woman, might this wicked **** suffer eternal torment! Slaves normally were easily replaced, but that one had been special, making Gildranoth lust for her more than for any other woman. Not entirely human, the tailed female probably had been part incubus. As soon as he had hunted her down, he would punish the woman and try the new torture he had invented exclusively for her.

In his fury, Gildranoth had killed several of his other slaves, whining females mostly. The worthless ****es weren’t as good as the tiefling by far anyway. With one of his big hands, the balor angrily crushed one of the human bones adorning the armchair of his throne. He was in dire need of satisfaction. Someone had to feel pain and die, unfortunately the demon needed all his remaining subordinates.

If all else failed, spilling devil blood always was a good idea.

“Buglish!,” Gildranoth called for one of his servants, “Get me my armor!”

Fearfully, the dretch hurried to serve his master, almost stumbling over his own legs. Whenever Gildranoth gave an order, you better obeyed immediately, even more so, if he was in a bad mood. Once, Buglish had been too slow, and he could call himself lucky that he only had been tortured for a few weeks. Trying not to shiver too much, the creature bowed low and luckily managed not to drop the heavy black plate mail and the helmet.

“Now gather the fighting slaves at the portal, unworthy vermin!”

The small minor demon didn’t need to hear it twice. Bowing low once more, Buglish suppressed a relieved sigh. Glad to have an excuse to get away from his master, he almost flew out of the throne room.

Time to slay some devils. With a wide wicked grin, the balor put on his shining black armor and looked into the big mirror he owned. As always, he liked what he saw. Now, the features of Gildranoth’s monstrous face were almost completely hidden under the black helmet, only his blood-red eyes shone through the visor. That and his big horns, for which there hat been left two holes in the helmet, made him look mysterious and dangerous. Impressive, as a mighty demon should be.

Which weapons this time? Hellslayer? Gildranoth liked the way his enemies exploded when they were drawn towards his flaming body by the whip. Gildranoth decided to take Demonfire, his massive vapor sword, as well. It dealt additional damage by burning his enemies from the inside.

The demon almost had forgotten his losses already. A female slave and an exotic weapon were nothing compared to his agitation and anxiety to kill.

Killing Baatezu was all that was important and counted for him. Killing, gaining power and women, of course. Looking forward to the slaughter, the mighty demon stepped through his portal, connecting him to the Blood River, followed by his servants and slaves. Together they set off for one of the countless battlefields of the Blood War, the everlasting bloodshed demons and devils had to deal upon each other.

(-)
{1} 1294 DR
{2} 9th month
(-)


Somewhere else in the Abyss

Grimash’t grinned devilishly, for the lack of a better expression. No one ever should call a demon’s wicked smile “devilish”, not if he or she wants to survive in the Planes, after all. Bearing Gildranoth’s brand, the dead body of the woman looked like one of his arch rival’s slaves. Obviously she had died while giving birth to an ugly creature who was half or a bit more demon, half human. Cambions as they were called were known for their extremely hot temper and weren’t easy to handle. Still the balor lord decided to take the lesser being with him as his new servant. Not that demons would care much about familiy, but Grimash’t liked the idea to use his arch rival’s own son against him. The demon kicked the bloody corpse aside and continued his search for useful tools.

The tanar’ri could not foresee his own future or he would have destroyed the half-demon immediately. Unfortunately – or luckily, even immortals cannot know every little twist of fate.

(-)

Exactly thirteen years from today, far away, in one of the many Primes, as well as in the City of Doors, two girls would be born, one an elf, the other one human, their lives so different but still interwoven in the secrets ways of Fate. Gildranoth wouldn’t have cared even if he had known. Elves or humans, primes or planars; petty mortals, all of them, and coincidences; only a fool would have pondered about it even a split second.

”There is nothing like coincidence in the multiverse.” - Clandarius the Wize, “Some words of Wisdom”, Library of Sigil, inventory number 13666


Sigil, The City of Doors, estate of Francesco and Arabelle Di Marqante

Francesco Di Marqante sat in front of his desk, writing and completely missing his wife’s pain and labor of childbirth. Hopefully this time she would give him a son who lived.
There was no time to waste, though, as a merchant – a successful one, a fact he was proud of – he always had to look after his financial statements. He could have paid a scribe to do the paperwork, but then, a coin saved was a coin gained, besides the fact that he didn’t trust anyone.

The shy knock at the door disturbed the man so much that he forgot the last number and would have to start the whole calculation from the beginning later.

“I hope this is important,” he growled, “I am a hard working man.”

“Master Di Marqante? Forgive me, but…”, the servant stuttered, bowing, not daring to look into the merchant’s cold dark brown eyes.

“Quickly, I am busy.” Francesco wrote down the number he just had remembered.

“I was sent to tell you that your wife has born you a daughter.” The servant wasn’t happy at all to deliver this message, but it was his duty to do so.

Scowling, the man dismissed the servant with the usual gesture. This time, the child lived, but it was a daughter, not the son he had wished for. Instead of having a descendant who would take on responsibility of his business after his time would be over, he would have to look for a matching son-in-law, not an easy task. Sighing, he rose. It was only a girl, still he should have a short look at her as it was expected from the Lord of the House.

The man still pondered about numbers, coins and wares while he stepped down the marble staircase and entered the bedroom. Should he import more saffron? Prices had risen, but on the other hand more customers than ever had asked for exotic spices and were willing to pay.

Not really seeing the woman who still was beautiful with her long curly black hair and her almost black eyes and the child, one look was enough for the merchant to convince him that they both had good chances to survive.

“I am here to see my wife and daughter. As you both seem to be in good health, I shall go back to my work.”

Arabelle barely remembered the time before they had come here twenty years ago, a twenty year-old noble merchant and the sixteen-year-old town beauty from… she didn’t remember the name of their home plane or even the town they had come from.

Francesco never had been overly romantic, but it had gotten worse during the last years.

“Are you really that cold? Once you loved me and cared for me. A bit, at least. You didn’t even look at her.”

Now she had him. Not that he didn’t care for her at all, it was just… he was too busy. Didn’t she understand that his hard work he did for her, too? Sighing, he looked at the baby. So tiny… She had his black her, Francesco noticed, almost smiling, but other than this… suspicion rising inside the man, his eyes searched his wife’s, an expression of disappointment on his face.

“I am sorry, my husband…,” the merchant, silencing the woman with the same gesture he used to spur his servants, just looked at her, not angry at all, just sad, which was even worse for Arabelle than if he had shouted at her. What had she done? It wasn’t her fault, that it was only a girl.

“She does not look like me. So who’s the father?,” the man asked, the softness of his voice hurting Arabelle even more.

The exhausted woman sighed. How could he even think she had betrayed him? Hadn’t she done everything to please him? She lived like a bird in a cage, even if she had wanted to meet another man, it would have been impossible. Servants followed each of her steps, she was watched every moment of her life.

“She is your daughter, of that you can be sure. Perhaps… once I heard a sage talking at the market, that sometimes children look like their grandparents.”

Still not convinced, Francesco decided to leave that matter for now, there was no time for useless and senseless discussions anyway.

“Have you chosen a name yet?,” the merchant asked, thinking that he should say something before he went back to his work. Naming and educating his daughter he would leave to his wife and the nurse, he had no time for things like that.

“Alyssia, your mother’s name.”

Arabelle cursed herself. Francesco might be a cold bastard, but she still loved him, one look into his pale face, at the still black smooth hair and into those cold brown eyes was enough to make her long for just one sign that he loved her, too, made her lose herself in foolish hopes again.

Francesco just nodded and left. He had more important business to look after.
So he thought, not knowing that his daughter would change his life and himself more than just a bit, for a time, at least.

[Deliciously-Demonic]

Ooh, me likey.

Alrighty, I figured out what to do! I've got the Frosty Rose inn together and most of Westland, the mountain town you start in. Also have a Mountain Side area that needs to be edited up a but, but, whatev, yeah?

I'll post piccies if anyone wants me to.

[Aldatariel Calentaur]

Yeah, post them. I'd love to see it.
.

Modifié par Aldatariel Calentaur, 21 mai 2011 - 01:54 .

[Deliciously-Demonic]

BLEGH, I can't work anymore until we get our new video card because the toolset keeps crashing if I try to load the Mountain Side or Westland. The Frosty Rose is OK, though.


No NPCs in there yet, though. :/ Well, except for Valen. xD

[Aldatariel Calentaur]

Looks great.

Modifié par Aldatariel Calentaur, 21 mai 2011 - 01:54 .

[Deliciously-Demonic]

Without the ability to use the toolset at the moment, I've decided to play HotU again. Just reached Zovak'mur, ironically.

-snicker-

Valen is absolutely adorable when he's angry.
But he *would* be fun to tame, nya?

[Meeszy Alexy]

He's adorable and scary at the same time. In the case of the Zorvak'mur bit, adorable, but I personally wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of his heavy flail.

[Deliciously-Demonic]

Elizabeth can tell you that it's not a pleasant experience. ;P

-sigh- You know you're a PTF...when you actually make a Valen Theme for Google Chrome. xD

[Deliciously-Demonic]

I'm feeling evil again.

"So, Valen-kins, how'd you meet your lovely girl?"
"..."
"Oh, come now, Demonwrestler, you can tell me."
Valen sighs, struggling against the shackles that chain him to the bed again, then answers.
"The Underdark."
"How devastatingly romantic. Ooh, was it love at first sight?"
"Hardly."
Alaelia sighs heavily, running a hand through her flaming hair. "Don't be difficult, Valen. So, when did you tell her you loved her?"
"Why are you so interested in her?" Valen snaps suddenly.
"I'm bored. It should pass the time until your precious little lover decides to try and follow me."
"...We were in Cania."
The fey'ri's ears perk up. "Cania? Ooh, did you meet Mephistopheles? He's so handsome, isn't he? So...dreamy." the devil-spawn squees happily.
"Yes, we did...meet him. Briefly. Then we killed him."
"Aw, poor Mephi!" Alaelia pouts. "And I was sooo looking forward to getting his autograph! You win some, you lose some." she frownes. "Oh, look at the time! I'd better make myself scarce; a certain Marilith is coming over to play with you. Oh, don't look so green, Vay-vay, she'll be...gentle." the fey'ri then leaves, cackling loudly.

-0-

"Valen, long time no see, yeah?"
The tiefling barely acknowledges Alaelia's presence.
"I was wrong, you know. I thought for sure she'd come running after you. But she hasn't. It's the oddest thing. Maybe she's given up on you, or maybe..." the fey'ri's eyes glitter "Maybe she never loved you at all? Perhaps it was nothing but an act."
Valen glares at her. "You're wrong."
"Am I? You can't be certain, can you? Maybe...maybe you're just in denial."
"You...are wrong."
"I wouldn't be so sure, Valen." the fey'ri grins. "But I didn't come in here to torture you-"
"I sincerely doubt that." Valen interupts.
"Tsk, tsk, such little faith. I came here to tell you that you'll be getting your own room soon. Much better then being chained to my bed all day, yes?"

-0-

The fey'ri walks into the dungeon, swinging her hips prettily as she nears Valen's cage.
"Mm, see, much better then that soft, fluffy bed you so often complained about, yes?"
Valen glares up at her again, but is helpless, chained to the wall and separated from Alaelia by many thick, iron bars.
"One of my agents tracked her down, you know. Asked her why she wasn't looking for you. Offered to tell her where you are. But all she did was kill him. Ungrateful brat."
"She must have thought...you were lying." the tiefling says stubbornly.
"I'm a devil, Valen dear. I swore to tell her if she wished it, and she ignored me. If there's one thing we Baatezu never go back on, it's our word. Maybe she's an ignorant child. Or maybe...she just doesn't want to find you. Maybe she sees your disappearance as a relief, a burden lifted off her shoulders."
Valen opens his mouth, but Alaelia lifts a hand, forestalling is comment.
"I know, I know, 'I'm wrong, she loves you, she's looking for you.' Such a moronic hope, little boy. But, I must leave now. Just think about what I said, yes?"

-0-

"So, Valen. Would you like to talk about her? I know you do; I can see it in your eyes."
"Leave me be, devil."
"How about no. You are under my control, Valen. I'm not leaving until I want to. I've been thinking." the fey'ri begins to pace. "What if she only claimed to love you because she thought it...practical. Maybe she just wanted to be loved. Maybe she wanted to control you, tame you, like the animal you are."
"You are the animal, Alaelia."
"I am not the one in the cage, leashed like a disobedient dog. Maybe I'll put bells and a collar on you. What do you think of a pink ribbon for that lovely tail of yours?"
Valen glares.
"No? Fine, it was but a suggestion." Alaelia frowns. "Why do you love her, anyways?"
"You wouldn't understand."
"You mean you don't understand it either? Ha. Such a pathetic little child you are. Naive, bitter little child."
"If anyone is bitter, it's you, Alaelia. You are not the woman I knew. You were kind, you cared, and you protected me for as long as you could. What happened to you?"
"The same that happened to you, child." the fey'ri says quietly. "The Blood Wars." Quickly, she changes the subject. "Why do you believe she loves you?"
"The Knower of Names...she said we were each other's true loves."
"And what does that mean? Some mystical force proclaimed you and her would be perfect together? Why would anything of divine means cross the planes to find a woman perfect for a fiend like you? Hmm? And if she was truly your true love, would she not be searching for you? You know where she is now, Valen? She's in Waterdeep, heels up and sipping wine, part of nobility now that she's rid of you." The fey'ri reaches out to the tiefling, who flinches away from her blackened hand. "I want to help you, Valen. Don't you want to be normal again? Be a normal tiefling? You've had your fun little romp around the Prime...but your holiday is over. You need to wake up. We of demonic and devilish heritage cannot walk through lands like Toril. It's unnatural. We belong here, in the Abyss, and Baator, in places like Sigil! You need to wake up." Then, the fey'ri walks away.

-0-

"You've been asking for me? That's a twist."
"Alaelia...I..."
"Have you finally realized what it means to be a tiefling once more?"
"I...understand."
"Good." Alaelia reaches out and brushes a strand of crimson hair out of Valen's eyes, watching him with a motherly gaze. "Would you like to forget her?"
The tiefling looks up sharply, eyes wide.
"She causes you pain, Valen. I can make that pain go away forever. Just allow me to."
Valen lowers his eyes, staring at the ground. Then he sighs, and nods slowly.
"As you wish," the fey'ri's voice is sad, though her black eyes glimmer with a sudden malicious joy. "Oeskathine the Demonwrestler, I command you to forget everything that happened to you after escaping the Blood Wars."
The tiefling turns to face her quickly as he hears his True Name, realizing his mistake when he sees the hate in her eyes, but it is too late.
Every memory he has of the Prime - from the Seer, to Lith My'arthar, to her - all vanish from his mind, unable to be recalled.

He lets out a small, wordless cry, and jerks away, closing his eyes and breathing erratically.
When he opens his eyes again, they are blood red.

Long, yes, but...well, I got carried away.

Mostly to define Alaelia's personality, relationship with Valen, and to tease you with what she does to Valen when he's under her...'care'

EDIT --

Liz voice samples! 
http://www.mediafire...zlc14i9866b7kay

Modifié par Deliciously-Demonic, 22 mai 2011 - 02:14 .

[Meeszy Alexy]

I have questions:

1. Is there an option to kill Alaelia slowly and painfully? If not, please implement one.
2. How does she know his True Name? I doubt Valen would tell her, and it's not like he gives it out of business cards.
3. Is Alaelia jealous, or just bitter?

[Deliciously-Demonic]

Believe me, there is.

Depending on if you killed or banished Mephistopheles, Alaelia is either a current or former employ of Big Red. She goes after the Knower Of Names to get revenge on you since she's got a bad crush on him. xD Then she decides, while she's there, why not pick up a few more? If you'll remember, all it took the Knower to give up the Names was a bit of gold.

Jealous, or bitter? Hmmm...a bit of both. She's a very bitter woman because of what she'd seen in the Blood Wars and working for Mephi, and jealous of Valen because *he* got out, *he* found love, *he* is a hero (well, she considers him one anyway). Plus she has those four times he attempted to kill her during the Blood Wars to hold against him.
Of course, she still has to get Mephi's revenge on the PC, and what better way to do that then turn the man you love into the beast again? Where he has no memory of you. And she sends him out to fight you just to torture you.

...Crap, now *I* want to kill Alaelia. xD

[Aldatariel Calentaur]

How many modules and stories are you working at, DD? I only ask because I know it from myself, that I start many things then find myself unable to finish any of them.

Don't get this wrong, but sometimes I fear you will start too many things at once, then dissipate your energies. No offense meant, I'm just a little worried that you will have to quit one or the other of your projects (don't ask how many ideas, stories and modules I have given up already ...). As you definitely are talented (especially when it comes about writing angst and/or dark stuff), several people (including me) will be severely disappointed if that happens.

Poor Valen, forced to forget the Seer and his love by his True Name. I wonder how this might end. At the moment it seems hopeless as any way to lead it to a good end I can think of seems way to kitschy. I'm sure, though, you will find a way. If you don't intend to create a tragedy anyway, that is.

(One of the reasons I decided to give up my HotU tale was that I just couldn't see a way to avoid the ultimate tragedy. As it is the end of the story, I might tell you one day if you're interested. Another reason was that I have moved on to original stories and other stuff.)

[Deliciously-Demonic]

Let's see...

A Ranger's Tale, I'm Not a Hero, the Elizabeth mod and now Shadows of the Past.

A.R.T and INaH are easily written thanks to the toolset and my plotlines I've got written out, the Elizabeth mod is giving me a bit of a pain, but I've put that on a temmporary hiatus until I can transfer all my files from my laptop to my new computer, and I'm not writing anything for SotP just yet, just making areas and fleshing out the basic plot.

Well, there are three general endings I plan for SotP; tragic, happy, and a bittersweet ending.
If you'll notice, there is more angst then fluff. x3

Don't worry, I have...plans. -evil laugh-
PLANS.

Right now I've got lame temporary convos for the NPCs that are important (i.e; Valen telling you about the agents from Waterdeep, the innkeeper telling you where to get supplies, the various merchants, all that stuff).
I figured out that I just can't have anything else open while the toolset is, and I can't load the Mountain Side. Which is BS, but, whatever, I'll get my new video card in a bit.

EDIT -- so wrong, yet...so right.
http://sendables.jib...USBH5AgFh6xIfzf

Modifié par Deliciously-Demonic, 22 mai 2011 - 09:19 .

[Aldatariel Calentaur]

I really hope you will work out everything, DD!

My problem is that I sometimes love my main characters (once it was Valen, today it's one of my OC's) just a little too much. So either my stories end up like that stuff in the M-section of P&T or ...
I just get lost.

Never wrote this, as the mere thought made me cry (the Ultimate HotU Tragedy):
When you mix up AD&D 2E-rules with D&D 3E-rules (like in HotU and like I do sometimes), especially when you are playing an elf, sooner or later you might be confronted with the fact that:
-The life-span of elves is much longer (1200 years according to the old rules) than any other race's.
-Tieflings might live up to 200 years (the maximum when you mix up rules), not more. For Valen it might be even shorter as the fact that my elf took his Demonic Curse from him might affect his life-span.
- An Unbeliever won't be able to go to the Higher Planes after his death, he will end up at a place called "The Wall of Faithless".
- Valen, part Demon (if that still counts), might go to the Abyss instead, of course.
- Deekin will die much earlier. (I wonder how long it might take until the humans and kobolds will have forgotten what he did, thus starting warring again. 200 years?)
- Banished by his True Name or not, Mephistopheles will return every 100 years.

Poor Tari. Not only will she see all her friends die, she also will live long enough to have to deal with Mephy over and over again. If she doesn't commit suicide or dies off a broken heart, that is.

I imagined a scene when old Valen, dying, is giving her one last kiss. After his death, a burial scene ...
I also imagined a scene when Tari is visiting Deekin's grave, finding that there's nothing left from her best friend but a withering stone, the inscription barely readable.

I cried when these pictures came to my mind. Just thought I'd share. I won't write this down. Just too sad.

Now let me go back to my OC story ... 4500 words today, I might even finish that one.

[Deliciously-Demonic]

That's pretty much what I do, mixing the 2E and 3E rules.
Max angst. Which as you know, I feed off of angst. xD

I don't see Valen's 'taint' as a physical thing (after all, his horns and tail didn't fall off, did they?), more of a psychological thing, barriers *he* put in his mind, guilt he has because of what he had to do in the Blood Wars and the like. So I doubt that removing his taint would affect his lifespan.

-now has the urge to draw her elfing crying over Valen's grave-

A.C, have I mentioned you're made of awesome? Cuz you are.
You have given me ideas for MAXIMUM ANGST for Shadows of the Past.

[Aldatariel Calentaur]

Thank you so much, but still: you really should try to find a slightly different title for your module, as "Demons of the Past" has been the title of one of the best Valen angst stories ever! Until it has been deleted, that is. Unfortunately, the author had to suffer from so many art thefts, other attacks and stuff that she just decided to delete part of her stuff...

[Deliciously-Demonic]

Ohoho, I remember that story! Twas delicious, the angst. xD

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some angst to write. -Turns Evanesence up all the way and goes back to her stories-