Nonek

I'd say yes on the proviso that it is not implemented like in Dragon Age, basically I want to be able to switch to a state of readiness when I enter dungeons and other dangerous places. Shields raised and swords levelled, arquebus' ****ed and loaded, arrows knocked to the string, mages scanning their grimoires and memorising dread incantations etcetera. Of course in this mode everybody should be wary, on the lookout for traps and secret doors and obviously the movement rate reduced. I would however make this toggle-able (if that's a word) for when we need a burst of speed to escape or for some other emergency. If we're entering dangerous territory and are not in a state of readiness then I fully expect the enemy to win initiative and launch devastating first strikes, take advantage of our stupidity. I'm also tootling through Divine Divinity at the moment and it's refreshing to see my sword scabbarded at my players hip, I don't particularly need the scabbard but I would like to see my equipped weapons and armours on my character. As well as a backpack.

Monk sworn to vows of poverty, silence and non violence. Don't know about race/species, anything not elf really.

There was a disgusting monster in second edition that I can't remember the name of for the life of me, it was basically a nightmare given flesh by residual strong magic fields, and resembled a pus covered sack of sentient entrails. Always liked using those. Always liked gibberlings as well, but without the swords, I always made them into a veritable roiling carpet of stinking black fur replete with too many teeth, talons and unwinking red eyes. Ocassionally i'd introduce a champion or shaman, to lead and guide the will of the swarm, but mostly I like the thought of a mammalian locust swarm. Unreasoning and unrepentant.

By jingo i've got it, give everybody a sock puppet to romance. Make it upgradeable with different wigs, lipstick, eye shadow, designer stubble, tattoos and such. Then they can go to town on romancing their individualised true love. And the great thing is with a quick change of apparel it can be male, female or anywhere in between. Open a chat window so people can write down their own and the puppets responses when they're wooing it, hell they could even write twilight level fanfiction about Mr or Mrs Sock taking them in their strong woolen fingers. You could even have the sock puppet kidnapped by a baddie, and held hostage with a pair of shears at its throat. Imagine the drama.

Chatting about it with one of the companys legal team today, apparently the maximum term for computer espionage of this nature in Britain is five years, across the pond he'd be facing three charges each carrying up to twenty year sentences. Wasn't sure if those would run concurrently. You can see why the young man doesn't want to go west, far better to serve a year and a half back here in blighty, if that. Not condoning his actions, but these conspiracy nuts don't really do any harm do they? Still stupid bloody thing to do.

There is only one romance I shall pursue: This is my arquebus. There are many like it, but this one is mine. Her name is Ermintrude. My arquebus is my one true love, it is my life. I must master it as I must master my own soul. My arquebus, without me, is useless. Without my arquebus, I am useless. I must fire my arquebus true. I must shoot straighter than my enemy who is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will... My arquebus and myself know that what counts in this war is not the rounds we fire, the noise of our burst, or the smoke we make. We know that it is the hits that count. We will hit... My arquebus is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a lover. I will learn its weaknesses, its strength, its parts, its accessories, its sights and its barrel. I will keep my arquebus clean and ready, even as I am clean and ready. We will become part of each other. We will... By my soul, I swear this creed. My arquebus and myself are the defenders of my country. We are the masters of our enemy. We are the saviors of my life. So be it, until victory is ours and there is no enemy, but peace! All other loves are pathetic and transitory.

I'm sorry but that Lelilaalalana(shaana na naana) bit first made me laugh then slowly grow nauseous, please god don't do anything like that. Ever. In any universe.

And that's the beauty of text as a medium, the conversation does not have to start immediately, we can have an introduction: An armoured knight of Lord McMurderpants strides towards you, his steel gauntlets flexing and his eyes burning with the light of a true fanatic. Though your party members quail and wibble in fear you stand tall and strike an Errol Flynn pose, before thrusting out your hand to accept the warriors salutation. Dropping to one knee he places his lips upon your signet ring, before enquiring whether you want to meet up with Tarquin for tea, scones and a good old natter.

Always loved the idea, thinking about it though i'd like to see a few unique trainers for the more exotic classes: Wizard - An ancient grimoire penned by the greatest minds over millenia, a riddle strewn and cryptic treatise that must be unravelled through cunning and mental gymnastics. Cipher - Venture through the labyrinthine depths of a most stygian abyss, your own mind, opening doors and facing the horrors of the id. Monk - Whilst meditating spar verbally or mentally with the masters of your order, until only an unknown opponent stand before you, his soul strong and strangely familiar. Druid - Hunt the totem animal of your people. Follow its path over hill and down dale, until the ancient dance is once more resolved, and its hot blood grants you and yours new life.

As I said at the time, Dragon Age was about as tame as a Mid-West Ren Fayre. If having to do battle with the man who brutally murdered your mother while her twitching, reanimated, stitched together corpse stumbles about the battlefield is tame to you, I'm guessing I wouldn't enjoy anything you actually think is hardcore. That was the most hilarious part of the game, I immediately started singing Thriller when zombiemom appeared, god that was dire. Still good laugh.

On its own horn?

No happy endings, no winning, no good guys, endless fields of decapitated and disembowelled ponies. The glib tongues of those prone to infantile witticisms lying beneath my armoured boot, the severed wings of angels stitched into my cloak of human flesh. The moaning of the violated forming a dirge as they are slowly impaled, cthuloid horrors gibbering and feasting in the shadows, civilisation torn down, burned and ground to dust. And above my throne a banner waving in the wind bearing two monolithic runes: EA. Nah, i'm fine with Dead Money level of Grimdark. Nice moral quandaries and people being their own verminous selves.

One of my old campaigns I had an order of Necromantic historians, who gathered history from the most authentic of primary witnesses and were revered as some of the most benign individuals in my entire campaign setting. There were quite a few liches and such amongst them, but these were just older members of the fraternity who'd decided to dedicate their "retirement" to the job. My players were always creeped out when a lore puzzle drove them to conduct research in the halls, but they were never once given reason to distrust or fear the brotherhood. I've got to say Mr 17 i'd like to see your idea of Vampires as stupid overly aggressive cannibals implemented somewhere, that's quite original.

It's funny how the myth of vampires plays on this horror over drinking a little blood, especially when we humans have entire abattoirs stuffed with the corpses of fellow living creatures whose flesh we consume in massive quantities. I'm partial to a little black pudding with my fried breakfast of a sunday, that's almost entirely made of blood and yet we romanticise and demonise this timid imbibing of a little claret. It's kind of ridiculous. Now if they were soul drinkers in Eternity, then we could begin to see something interesting unfolding. Great fattened beasts, gorging on the blood and souls sacrificed to them by their mindless thralls, who see only beauty and grace amidst the cancerous corruption. Who knows maybe that is what a god is in this world.

Hopefully all classes have a massive amount of play in them (obviously at a cost) so we can have that pacifist with strong soul powers, or an Ironfist homage but not both. Be less reason to have multiclass that way and help define our characters somewhat.

Surely that build will be available Hormalakh? Just prioritise your dialogue skills, charisma, (sneaking?) and such.

Got to say I wasn't particularly impressed by the Monk illustration, i'd prefer more conservative sensible attire, a certain stillness in pose but a glimmer of pent up potential. My own idea for the class, a mixture of an ascetic, a flagellant and a mystic: You were born on the field of battle, crawling from your dying mothers womb and lying in the pool of warm blood which spread around her. The Awoken found you there, as they have found survivors amid devastation for over a millenium, attracted by your lusty cries and the equally outraged roaring of your infant soul, they knew you were one of them. Since that day you have been trained and tested, some would call it abuse to subject a child to such harsh measures, but with each lesson you glimpsed the Oneness that was promised to the aspirant. It was beautiful. When the body is strong, the mind keen and the soul chained then an Awoken suffices to any task. The world slows, the elements are humbled and the power within one may be brought forth to stunning effect. I have seen granite smashed by a bare hand, a half dozen arrows plucked from the air and wounds close leaving neither scar or injury. But to harness such powers one must know oneself, body, mind and soul, only in that knowing can the Oneness be attained. We Awoken aim to attain Oneness in all things, but we are not masters and we are all mortal. If we do not see the arrow, then it will tear into our fragile flesh. If the granite wall is too thick then it is as impenetrable as star iron. If the wound is too grievous then body, mind and soul are all harmed by it. The speeding bullet we may percieve but not even the fastest or wisest may evade. Many ask why we follow this path when there are easier options available, we can only answer with a smile for what better path is there to follow than the hardest of all? We seek to test ourselves with the greatest of trials, master every aspect of our being so that we are worthy to bathe for awhile in the unity of mind, body and soul. The Oneness is beautiful, and all men should aspire to it.

As pretty as the Witcher 2. The little campsite by the river intrigues me, does that broken bridge lead to another door? Are those stone statues actually weathering into corpses? Do we arrive via that boat or by the road?

That's the stuff right there, the lore's as engrossing as the land.

Some nice innovative uses of torture by the victorious, but involving souls and magic. The old Vikings had quite a flair for the dramatic with the blood eagle, and anyone who's read Egil's saga will remember the last scene of the battle of Clontarf, where the enemy has his guts nailed to a tree and is led around that flora slowly disembowelling himself. Sick but perfect for that moment of sitting back and remarking (as our colonial cousins would) that the manure just materialised into physicality. Add to that all the cruelty and torment that a cunning mage or cipher could inflict on the undying soul of a creature, and you've got some pretty fine incentivisation. I suppose i'm thinking of the disturbing nature of some of the vault experiments in New Vegas, especially 11, I really wanted to make somebody pay for those. Made me glad I blew up the oil rig. I thought the phrase "Grimdark" was taken from the opening mantra of Warhammer 40,000: In the grim darkness of the fourty first millenia there is only war, and was indicative of the pitch black amoral quagmire presented therein?

They had them twenty years ago in Ultima, don't see any reason why a modern isometric game can't have them, it only adds to the believability of the setting. It's also a great opportunity, to watch targets, to stage break ins under cover of night etcetera.

Soul Reaver 2, it's refreshing to see the games respect for its lore and the importance placed upon building a cohesive vision out of the previous games plots. I don't see why it should be so hard for a modern game to make a logical narrative when Soul Reaver 2 does this over millenia of altered history, and most importantly it never seeks to violate the players actions in either of the previous instalments. Great game.

Don't listen Monte, doing the lords work never goes out of fashion.

Nah already bought it three times, that's enough for me.

I would suspect that with pre orders and the limited development time that Dragon Age 2 worked at least in the short term, there seems to be a lot of negativity raised over the game however and I admit that if i'd known it was to be an action rpg I would have waited and bought it on a steam sale rather than pre ordering the signature edition, so they may well have sacrificed the long term viability of the franchise for those short term profits. However if they knock it out of the park with Dragon Age 3, then all might be forgiven, as most businesses are judged on their last viable success. There's a certain portion of their old audience however whom I think they might have alienated inextricably.