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The Anvil of Crom: Ranging across the border
"Know, O prince, that between the years when the oceans drank Atlantis and the gleaming cities, and the years of the rise of the sons of Aryas, there was an age undreamed of, when shining kingdoms lay spread across the world like blue mantles beneath the stars. Hither came Conan, the Cimmerian, black-haired, sullen-eyed, sword in hand, a thief, a reaver, a slayer, with gigantic melancholies and gigantic mirth, to tread the jeweled thrones of the Earth under his sandaled feet." -- The Nemedian Chronicles Conan fans will recognize the above passage as one of the most famous in the barbarian's extensive canon. It appears at the beginning of 1932's The Phoenix on the Sword and serves as a brief teaser for the history that underlies the world of Hyboria. Being something of an MMO lore junkie (and given the fact that I'm slowly working my way through Robert E. Howard's Conan library), I've often wondered about the origins of the Nemedian Chronicles and the people who wrote them. While Nemedia itself is not yet accessible in Age of Conan, Funcom's nods to Nemedian culture are numerous, and nowhere is this more evident than the Border Range. Join me after the cut for some impressions on this war-torn zone and the stories behind it. %Gallery-126465%
The Anvil of Crom: Red fields, rice paddies, and the war-torn Chosain Province
Blood. Blood dripped from the talisman clutched in the mage's left hand. Fresh blood it was, deep red, almost black in the pale moonlight, blending with the red-orange stalks of firegrass that parted as the mage moved through them. A demon crept along behind him, his demon, and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth as she silently followed. Ahead, across a vast lake of firegrass, two soldiers of the Last Legion lounged lazily in the crook of an ancient oak, its boughs and branches twisting skyward like so many gnarled fingers grasping in vein for the velvety backdrop of night. The mage stopped, images of a man twisting on the end of a rough brown rope rising unbidden in his mind. The rope hung taut from the branch of a massive dead tree, and two soldiers of the Last Legion prodded the swinging corpse with the tips of their steel. The mage blinked, his eyes refocusing on the men ahead of him, their ornate Legion armor clearly visible even in the dark. They were not the same soldiers, but then it did not matter. The mage whispered and his thrall winked briefly out of existence, reappearing between the two soldiers whereupon it performed its ghastly task. The mage crossed the field of grass and dismissed the demon, glancing dispassionately at the red stains on the oak's massive trunk. Chosain was red with blood already and would grow redder still. %Gallery-114993%
The Anvil of Crom: Sun, sand, and the serpent kingdom
Welcome back to the Anvil of Crom and the latest edition of the Hyborian travelogue. This week, we're going to visit the lands of Stygia in Funcom's Age of Conan for a look at the final post-Tortage lowbie zone. Previously we've journeyed to the Gateway of Khitai, the Wild Lands of Zelata, and Conall's Valley, all of them race-specific 20-to-40 zones that you can visit when you're through with the Isle of Newb. Stygia's corresponding 20-to-40 content isn't quite 20-to-40 though, as I found out this week while adventuring through the region for the first time. Join me and my brand new Tempest of Set after the cut for some impressions of Hyboria's serpent kingdom as well as a bit of questing advice. %Gallery-107238%
Guest Post: Azshara revamp ushers in new level range, epic stories
This article has been brought to you by Seed, the Aol guest writer program that brings your words to WoW Insider's pages. I would hazard a guess that a vast majority of WoW players have never even been to Azshara. Honestly, since Molten Core is no longer a major raid zone and the Runes of Fire Lords just put themselves out, there really isn't much reason to. Those of us who raided in vanilla made weekly trips there to pick up our Aqual Quintessence, and I was also an herbalist, so I would spend another hour or so out there looking for Dreamfoil because of needing a bag full of mana pots to raid in those pre-potion sickness days. Clearly, the zone was unfinished. There was one quest hub, if you could call it that, because there were only a very small number of quests there. Blizzard tried to bring people to the unused zone later on by adding in the level 50 class quests that led up to Sunken Temple -- but really, in the process of leveling, you could basically ignore Azshara and move on. I hated the original Azshara because it was out in the middle of nowhere and fairly poorly designed. It was hard to get to places because of all the rocky cliffs, and passages up and down from the beach to the cliffs were too few and far between. It could even be dangerous at level 60 before The Burning Crusade's stamina inflation; lots of mobs feared and or put debuffs on you, and there were elites wandering around over huge portions of the zone. Sadly the few fond memories I have of old Azshara are gone, as well. When Azuregos was up in vanilla, the entire zone would become a raiding guild, PvP fight zone as the top Horde and Alliance raiding guilds fought over who could tag him, killing flagged members of the group who got him, hoping to wipe them and inflict them all with the debuff. It could get fun and entertaining -- and one time, it even caused our server to be shut down. Well, that has all changed come Cataclysm.
The Anvil of Crom: Wild times
Welcome back to the Anvil of Crom, your weekly peek into Funcom's Age of Conan. I'm your host, ranger rantypants, and today we'll be returning to a happier place, namely, the latest installment of my ongoing Hyborian travelogue. This week, I visited the well-traveled Wild Lands of Zelata, the third of the game's four post-Tortage regions and home to some of AoC's premier questing zones. The trip was something of a homecoming, as my original launch character made his way to the Wild Lands after leaving Strom's broken body on the Tortage docks a couple of years ago, and playing through the zone again after numerous graphical and performance tweaks was quite an enjoyable experience and even a bit nostalgic. Port past the cut for more. %Gallery-105153%
The Tattered Notebook: Land of the lost
It's been quite a while since I trekked through EverQuest II's Darklight Wood with a newly minted shadowknight, and the time seems right to take another look at one of the game's grand adventuring zones. Between the influx of newbs flocking to SOE servers thanks to EQ2X and the Norrathian expatriates returning to possibly rekindle their former flame, a tour of one of the game's more noteworthy locales is in order. Join me (and my ratonga alter-ego) after the cut as we adventure through the Enchanted Lands. %Gallery-104101%
The Anvil of Crom: Gateway to adventure
I've been spending so much time in Khitai's Northern Grasslands lately that I'm starting to dream of wolves, 50-foot-tall golems, and crotchety warmonk bosses that mop the floors of their monastery with the remains of my asphyxiated assassin. As such, I figure it's time for a little change of pace, as well as a change of scenery. Ah hell, since I'm an incurable altoholic, let's go ahead and throw a change of character in there as well. Goodbye squishy 'sin, I'll miss you (not). Anyway, several alts are in the works, but rather than focus on the hows and whys of a new class (more on that in the coming weeks), we'll chew the scenery in this week's Anvil of Crom. Join me after the cut for a look at the majestic Gateway to Khitai, the latest stop on our tour of Hyboria's many and varied questing zones. %Gallery-102809%
The Anvil of Crom: Journey through the Grasslands
The assassin moved forward, slowly, the soles of his padded boots gliding soundlessly over the dense packing of leaves and mulch that formed the forest floor. His eyes darted this way and that, scarred hands never far from the ivory-inlaid hilts of the blades hanging loosely at his waist. Quickening his pace, he ducked and dodged around the endless stalks of greenish bamboo that reached for the canopy high above. Thin sunbeams bathed portions of the glade in an otherworldly light. They also cast parts of the dense bamboo thicket into semi-darkness, and it was from one of these dim pockets that the bear emerged. A towering, snarling monstrosity, it leered at the assassin, then charged. Stalks of bamboo snapped and splintered in its path as the assassin whirled and fled. The ground shook as the beast gained; he felt its breath on his neck as he emerged from the forest into blinding sunlight. A rock wall loomed ahead of him and he leaped for it, his feet finding purchase on the tiny ledges as he scrambled up the sheer side of the cliff. Panting, he finally reached the summit and turned to watch the stalks of bamboo swaying far below him like a sea of grass that parted as the beast rumbled back into the undergrowth. Sneak past the cut for more. %Gallery-99125%
The Anvil of Crom: Uncommon fun
I'm standing high above the stone and stucco portcullises of Tarantia, the glare of the sunshine doubly bright as it bounces off the dirty white dwellings and the twin daggers poised in my calloused hands. The Iron Tower, a bleakly bronzed pillar of darkness amid a sea of sandstone, rises menacingly to the west, casting a lengthy shadow over the maze of rooftops that stretches in all directions. My cloak whips to and fro in the hefty breeze; my sandalled feet inch backward toward the edge of a high rooftop as three masked Crows close fast. I risk a glance over my shoulder, and the dizzying height makes my head spin. One of the Crows lashes out with a short sword and whiffs as I step off the ledge and drop like a stone toward the glassy surface of the canal several stories below. With a rush of wind, the building walls bleed and run as I plummet past, indistinguishable streaks of tan on white. The shock of the water whips me back into the here and now; I surface for air and drag myself up on the bank, trying not to dwell on the stench that plasters the cloak to my skin. Welcome to another leisurely stroll through the Commons.
The Anvil of Crom: Dead men walking
Hoo boy. Well, after last week's F2T versus P2P throw-down, I figured it was time to take a break from controversy and tread the relatively safe waters of in-game impressions. That's not to say there won't be plenty of opinion this week, as this is after all an opinion column and not straight-up "journalism" with a capital J. With that said, let's delve into the Cimmerian foothills, shall we? The lands of Hyboria are vast and varied, whether you're traversing the sandy dunes of Stygia, mingling with the crowds that line Aquilonia's city streets, or traveling across, over (and even under) Cimmeria's darkened highlands. As your humble correspondent continues his trek towards the mythical hinterland known as level 80, my rangers have been spending the majority of their time in King Conan's ancestral homeland of Cimmeria. We've already examined the war-torn landscape of Conall's Valley in a previous edition of The Anvil of Crom, and this week we'll take a tour of the next stop along the Cimmerian express route, namely the Field of the Dead. Join me after the cut to journey through the burial mounds and haunted forests that make up this unforgettable zone.
