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EVE-Search ForumWatch http://eve-search.com/ The alternative EVE-Online Forum browser. en-us Tue, 6 Jan 2009 00:00:00 +0000 EVE-Search RSS Module v1.1 chribba@evemail <![CDATA[Variations of the Theme - by Khaldorn Murino]]> http://myeve.eve-online.com/ingameboard.asp?a=topic&threadID=116608&page=1#5
He owed that monk and these sisters help, a debt should be paid, as honour dictated.

He sent a brief message to the Monks Order

+++ BEGIN TRANSMISSION +++

To: Acharya, Beyond Reach.

Brother I have read with distress the destruction of your monastery. I do not know what has befallen your once comrade, but she is now clearly an enemy of the people. I offer you my support in whatever way I can be of service, I cannot speak for the rest of my brothers in FU2, but they have never shirked from duty if our people have been in danger. You may count on it.

Fly Free, always.

Khaldorn Murino.

+++ END TRANSMISSION +++
-

"Whenever I hear any one arguing for slavery I feel a strong impulse to see it tried on him personally." - Unknown Warrior
]]> Fri, 22 Oct 2009 09:25:00 +0000 eve-search/guid/1320011 <![CDATA[Variations of the Theme - by Khaldorn Murino]]> http://myeve.eve-online.com/ingameboard.asp?a=topic&threadID=116608&page=1#5
He owed that monk and these sisters help, a debt should be paid, as honour dictated.

He sent a brief message to the Monks Order

+++ BEGIN TRANSMISSION +++

To: Acharya, Beyond Reach.

Brother I have read with distress the destruction of your monastery. I do not know what has befallen your once comrade, but she is now clearly an enemy of the people. I offer you my support in whatever way I can be of service, I cannot speak for the rest of my brothers in FU2, but they have never shirked from duty if our people have been in danger. You may count on it.

Fly Free, always.

Khaldorn Murino.

+++ END TRANSMISSION +++
-

"Whenever I hear any one arguing for slavery I feel a strong impulse to see it tried on him personally." - Unknown Warrior
]]> Fri, 22 Oct 2009 09:25:00 +0000 eve-search/guid/1320022 <![CDATA[Variations of the Theme - by Hardin]]> http://myeve.eve-online.com/ingameboard.asp?a=topic&threadID=116608&page=1#4

]]> Fri, 22 Oct 2009 08:29:00 +0000 eve-search/guid/980995 <![CDATA[Variations of the Theme - by Hardin]]> http://myeve.eve-online.com/ingameboard.asp?a=topic&threadID=116608&page=1#4

]]> Fri, 22 Oct 2009 08:29:00 +0000 eve-search/guid/980996 <![CDATA[Variations of the Theme - by Acharya]]> http://myeve.eve-online.com/ingameboard.asp?a=topic&threadID=116608&page=1#3 Edited by: Acharya on 22/10/2004 08:14:45

石 سنگ خاره

As the shuttle slowly descended on the steppes of the Mikramurka continent, a Sebiestor monk fixed his glaze on the horizon.

He reflected on what had happened in last 24 hours. He had given orders to relocate his section to a new system, and have left a skeleton group of monks to deal with the local authorities on the aftermath of the Onganese monasterys destruction.

He had stopped at the orbiting station to send an encoded message to his former protg, the ronin paratwa RageChild, alerting her of what had happened, before setting course here, to Matar, the seat of power of the Minmatar Republic, and the one person whom he report to.

Despite the climate regulation, the monk felt the chill air of this northern artic region. He welcomed it as it focused his mind. He observed his breathing, and he is mindful of his anger. He let the anger rose as he inhaled, and he examined this emotion, and he let the anger subsided as he exhaled.

He is ready to see Tsur, the Rock.

]]> Fri, 22 Oct 2009 08:03:00 +0000 eve-search/guid/13910 <![CDATA[Variations of the Theme - by Acharya]]> http://myeve.eve-online.com/ingameboard.asp?a=topic&threadID=116608&page=1#3 Edited by: Acharya on 22/10/2004 08:14:45

石 سنگ خاره

]]> Fri, 22 Oct 2009 08:03:00 +0000 eve-search/guid/13912 <![CDATA[Variations of the Theme - by Airgoidh Brendan]]> http://myeve.eve-online.com/ingameboard.asp?a=topic&threadID=116608&page=1#2 Edited by: Airgoidh Brendan on 25/10/2004 18:45:55
She walked along the terraces, slowly but assuredly ending up on the beach between the two largest fingers. The arsenic sea rolled in as seven waves, then one larger wave that crashed with a sound as loud as the strongest sandstorm.

In the beginning Cizin put Matars great Work into motion. She spoke with mindfulness of every word, of her breath, of each wave that broke near her. To balance the universe, Cizin needed only the natural order of Matars great Work to keep the whole eternally stable.

She could feel his irritation as she spoke this first lesson again; his mind was in the clouds rather than in his heart. He would need to die today, but for now she continued speaking.

Matter in motion has only one option evolve. In that Cizin also planned, and His great Work provided for that evolution. As the people of the universe evolved, so did the complexity of being able to stabilize humanitys presence within the larger framework of the universe. His plan could not withstand motion, so he created assassins and warriors to do his bidding as the universe changed. These were the first Paratwa.

He took up the lesson, obviously trying to show he could recite it after so many times hearing it. She let him speak, but did not compliment him on his effort. What good was telling the Great Story of the Golden Path if nothing of its words meant anything?

The Paratwa were feared and hunted by men. Their legacy always ended in two opposing sides joining forces to hunt them down, leading to the near mass extinction of all sides. In that, Cizin had found the fundamental key to perpetually being able to balance the universes energies.

She interrupted to emphasize the point. One-to-one rebalancing is possible. No other ratio is valid.

But why cant we just hunt the Amarr slavers and keep the balance? Do both sides need to die almost to the last?

She stood now at the farthest tip of the finger, barefeet resting just at the wet edge of the arsenic sea. He stood behind her, but in her mind he stood as if within her, as if they were joined as one body and mind. For her, all people were one with her and she with them.

To believe that any ratio other than one-to-one is valid is preconceived, and has proven false in reality since the first Paratwa. Only by minimizing the energy can Cizin keep the whole stable. To walk the Golden Path is to know that your work will result in the deaths of nearly all humans in Eve.

She could see him shaking his head, and he came around to face her again with his feet in the cold arsenic sea. That just isnt possible. No faction nor even a mega-corpgroup could cause all the people of Eve to annihilate each other.

She stepped forward only two feet, all that was needed to drop him down into the sea. With her hands holding his throat and keeping his head under the liquid arsenic, he struggled and beat at her -- soon laying still as the arsenic filled his lungs.

She let his body drift away on the arsenic sea, pulling all of her perception into herself. You are right brother. No large faction of Paratwa could cause such a thing. It takes only one to do that task. One assassin, one victim. Remember that when you return to me to continue your lessons.

Her mind created connections with her ships neural interlink, and she acknowledged the messages waiting in queue. Her pupils clone had activated, and Concord had received the paperwork necessary for her war with the monk, Acharya, of the Monastic Order of Beyond Reach; monks who received generous but clandestine support from the MinMatar Republic -- and Midular herself.

___________________
. . . my face grows paler than the grass in summer; I see before me Death stand and madness.

Book One: Wherein the Faith of the Liberated?
Book Two: Revelations of the Faithful

The Journals of the Ronin

]]> Sat, 16 Oct 2009 18:24:00 +0000 eve-search/guid/42463 <![CDATA[Variations of the Theme - by Airgoidh Brendan]]> http://myeve.eve-online.com/ingameboard.asp?a=topic&threadID=116608 Moved from Intergalactic Summit -Zhuge

To assume that Amamake VI was entirely a desert planet would be to also correctly acknowledge the extreme base of humanity; only sand covered the planet with the exception of one small arsenic sea near the southern pole, and all that sand and arsenic liquid reflected all that Cizin had planned for humanity since the Beginning.

Her pupil did not yet understand how sand and arsenic were linked to humanity, how the analogy played with seemingly tenuous threads of themes and plots to bring about minimization of the whole of the population of Eve. Her pupil was a strong young Brutor not yet returned from his errand, and late the hour grew while she waited for him.

The small house sat inconsistent to the primordial landscape, a multi-layered, ambiguous residence. On the dune of the arsenic sea, this was a place where, millions of years ago, ancient lava flowed into the sea and formed a series of high thin promontories stretching east into the water like the outspread fingers of a gigantic hand laid flat on the floor of the world. Now the fingers are covered with a wind-blown sand and the back of the hand had been terraced before it sloped sharply up towards the mountain to provide shelter from the arsenic spray.

Poised on the edge of the highest terrace, just above the cliffs round one of the inlets between the fingers sat the Weeping Sisters long, low and thin house of Aspen wood and pressed paper. Sliding full-height paper screens were open on all sides of the house so the interior merged with the exterior according to the state of the weather and the mood of its one full-time inhabitant. With those paper screens open, from any angle, the house was completely transparent with the view of the wild promontories and the sea immediately revealed. It was here, in the center axis of the house that she stood, the Weeping One, the sister of the Paratwa, Gaelbhan Wulf, the Weeping One bound to the plane created by Matar the Father and cycled by Cizin the Transitional One.

Airgoidh Brendan weeped for her pupil, who now approached from the western dune.

Hello sister, he said as he removed his boots and entered the house. She did not reply nor did he expect her to. I have the fish. I will bake it now.

The sun sat just at the horizon, which this far south was merely an illusion. Amamake VI wobbled radically on axis, and the sun had long since set the atmosphere reflected the image of the star all along the curvature and would do so for another hour. She waited, standing as still as she had before his arrival and as he cooked their meal.

Offering her a small plate of baked fish, he stood behind her and to the left, waiting for her to recite the Faith of Cizin. She did not, so he spoke the words. She could feel his reverence for the message as he spoke, but he lacked the acknowledgement of faith itself.

You are still in question.

She heard him choke back a piece of fish, felt him nodding, then speaking. He came around to face her, but that was by his own preference. Brutors spoke to each other face-to-face, but she was blind he would be looking into her eyes even though nothing would register there; the irises did not dilate nor did her eyes move.

Through the use of her bio-implants and study of the Advanced Skill packs, her perception of the universe reached well beyond his. Her mind could create images for her to replace the input of her eyes, and she could literally see him standing in front of her, questioning, hoping for more recognition. Her mind could even move perceptually to his frame of view, and now she saw herself as if through his eyes. She could see her red hair blowing around her face, and the three braided knots that represented her ties to close clan and kin.

She could feel his heart beating, and his dismay as she remained quiet. Perhaps today he might gain the correct uunderstanding? Pupil, she began, to his astonishment. You speak the Faith of Cizin but do not feel it. You work here with me day after day but do not see the work. You are always out there. She pointed upward and then abruptly turned away to walk out of the houses southern portal. She walked barefoot down the terraces, slim body and thin sheered dress buffeted by the wind.

I am trying, sister. I just . . . I just fear for us.

Fear.

Yes, sister, I am afraid. If as you say Cizin intends us to finally experience His most evolved plan, then the whole of the peoples of Eve will suffer greatly.

Fear is the product of preconception.

And preconception, like supposition, is always false unless proved true in reality in continuous testing, he said, speaking the words but feeling nothing of them.

Cizins great Work is all around you, under your feet, blowing in your face, sitting as fish in your stomach but you do not see.

The Golden Path is more than I could bear.

]]> Sat, 16 Oct 2009 18:24:00 +0000 eve-search/guid/42467 <![CDATA[Variations of the Theme - by Airgoidh Brendan]]> http://myeve.eve-online.com/ingameboard.asp?a=topic&threadID=116608&page=1#2 Edited by: Airgoidh Brendan on 25/10/2004 18:45:55
She walked along the terraces, slowly but assuredly ending up on the beach between the two largest fingers. The arsenic sea rolled in as seven waves, then one larger wave that crashed with a sound as loud as the strongest sandstorm.

In the beginning Cizin put Matars great Work into motion. She spoke with mindfulness of every word, of her breath, of each wave that broke near her. To balance the universe, Cizin needed only the natural order of Matars great Work to keep the whole eternally stable.

She could feel his irritation as she spoke this first lesson again; his mind was in the clouds rather than in his heart. He would need to die today, but for now she continued speaking.

Matter in motion has only one option evolve. In that Cizin also planned, and His great Work provided for that evolution. As the people of the universe evolved, so did the complexity of being able to stabilize humanitys presence within the larger framework of the universe. His plan could not withstand motion, so he created assassins and warriors to do his bidding as the universe changed. These were the first Paratwa.

He took up the lesson, obviously trying to show he could recite it after so many times hearing it. She let him speak, but did not compliment him on his effort. What good was telling the Great Story of the Golden Path if nothing of its words meant anything?

The Paratwa were feared and hunted by men. Their legacy always ended in two opposing sides joining forces to hunt them down, leading to the near mass extinction of all sides. In that, Cizin had found the fundamental key to perpetually being able to balance the universes energies.

She interrupted to emphasize the point. One-to-one rebalancing is possible. No other ratio is valid.

But why cant we just hunt the Amarr slavers and keep the balance? Do both sides need to die almost to the last?

She stood now at the farthest tip of the finger, barefeet resting just at the wet edge of the arsenic sea. He stood behind her, but in her mind he stood as if within her, as if they were joined as one body and mind. For her, all people were one with her and she with them.

To believe that any ratio other than one-to-one is valid is preconceived, and has proven false in reality since the first Paratwa. Only by minimizing the energy can Cizin keep the whole stable. To walk the Golden Path is to know that your work will result in the deaths of nearly all humans in Eve.

She could see him shaking his head, and he came around to face her again with his feet in the cold arsenic sea. That just isnt possible. No faction nor even a mega-corpgroup could cause all the people of Eve to annihilate each other.

She stepped forward only two feet, all that was needed to drop him down into the sea. With her hands holding his throat and keeping his head under the liquid arsenic, he struggled and beat at her -- soon laying still as the arsenic filled his lungs.

She let his body drift away on the arsenic sea, pulling all of her perception into herself. You are right brother. No large faction of Paratwa could cause such a thing. It takes only one to do that task. One assassin, one victim. Remember that when you return to me to continue your lessons.

Her mind created connections with her ships neural interlink, and she acknowledged the messages waiting in queue. Her pupils clone had activated, and Concord had received the paperwork necessary for her war with the monk, Acharya, of the Monastic Order of Beyond Reach; monks who received generous but clandestine support from the MinMatar Republic -- and Midular herself.

___________________
. . . my face grows paler than the grass in summer; I see before me Death stand and madness.

Book One: Wherein the Faith of the Liberated?
Book Two: Revelations of the Faithful

The Journals of the Ronin

]]> Sat, 16 Oct 2009 18:24:00 +0000 eve-search/guid/42470 <![CDATA[Variations of the Theme - by Airgoidh Brendan]]> http://myeve.eve-online.com/ingameboard.asp?a=topic&threadID=116608 Moved from Intergalactic Summit -Zhuge

To assume that Amamake VI was entirely a desert planet would be to also correctly acknowledge the extreme base of humanity; only sand covered the planet with the exception of one small arsenic sea near the southern pole, and all that sand and arsenic liquid reflected all that Cizin had planned for humanity since the Beginning.

Her pupil did not yet understand how sand and arsenic were linked to humanity, how the analogy played with seemingly tenuous threads of themes and plots to bring about minimization of the whole of the population of Eve. Her pupil was a strong young Brutor not yet returned from his errand, and late the hour grew while she waited for him.

The small house sat inconsistent to the primordial landscape, a multi-layered, ambiguous residence. On the dune of the arsenic sea, this was a place where, millions of years ago, ancient lava flowed into the sea and formed a series of high thin promontories stretching east into the water like the outspread fingers of a gigantic hand laid flat on the floor of the world. Now the fingers are covered with a wind-blown sand and the back of the hand had been terraced before it sloped sharply up towards the mountain to provide shelter from the arsenic spray.

Poised on the edge of the highest terrace, just above the cliffs round one of the inlets between the fingers sat the Weeping Sisters long, low and thin house of Aspen wood and pressed paper. Sliding full-height paper screens were open on all sides of the house so the interior merged with the exterior according to the state of the weather and the mood of its one full-time inhabitant. With those paper screens open, from any angle, the house was completely transparent with the view of the wild promontories and the sea immediately revealed. It was here, in the center axis of the house that she stood, the Weeping One, the sister of the Paratwa, Gaelbhan Wulf, the Weeping One bound to the plane created by Matar the Father and cycled by Cizin the Transitional One.

Airgoidh Brendan weeped for her pupil, who now approached from the western dune.

Hello sister, he said as he removed his boots and entered the house. She did not reply nor did he expect her to. I have the fish. I will bake it now.

The sun sat just at the horizon, which this far south was merely an illusion. Amamake VI wobbled radically on axis, and the sun had long since set the atmosphere reflected the image of the star all along the curvature and would do so for another hour. She waited, standing as still as she had before his arrival and as he cooked their meal.

Offering her a small plate of baked fish, he stood behind her and to the left, waiting for her to recite the Faith of Cizin. She did not, so he spoke the words. She could feel his reverence for the message as he spoke, but he lacked the acknowledgement of faith itself.

You are still in question.

She heard him choke back a piece of fish, felt him nodding, then speaking. He came around to face her, but that was by his own preference. Brutors spoke to each other face-to-face, but she was blind he would be looking into her eyes even though nothing would register there; the irises did not dilate nor did her eyes move.

Through the use of her bio-implants and study of the Advanced Skill packs, her perception of the universe reached well beyond his. Her mind could create images for her to replace the input of her eyes, and she could literally see him standing in front of her, questioning, hoping for more recognition. Her mind could even move perceptually to his frame of view, and now she saw herself as if through his eyes. She could see her red hair blowing around her face, and the three braided knots that represented her ties to close clan and kin.

She could feel his heart beating, and his dismay as she remained quiet. Perhaps today he might gain the correct uunderstanding? Pupil, she began, to his astonishment. You speak the Faith of Cizin but do not feel it. You work here with me day after day but do not see the work. You are always out there. She pointed upward and then abruptly turned away to walk out of the houses southern portal. She walked barefoot down the terraces, slim body and thin sheered dress buffeted by the wind.

I am trying, sister. I just . . . I just fear for us.

Fear.

Yes, sister, I am afraid. If as you say Cizin intends us to finally experience His most evolved plan, then the whole of the peoples of Eve will suffer greatly.

Fear is the product of preconception.

And preconception, like supposition, is always false unless proved true in reality in continuous testing, he said, speaking the words but feeling nothing of them.

Cizins great Work is all around you, under your feet, blowing in your face, sitting as fish in your stomach but you do not see.

The Golden Path is more than I could bear.

]]> Sat, 16 Oct 2009 18:24:00 +0000 eve-search/guid/42474