As of September 2002 I've stopped playing Gemstone III. So this site will not be updated and is not current. I will leave the site up for histories sake and for my own personal projects and storage materials.
It's been a long journey, but now I must go. I bid thee well.
Good day!
Let me introduce myself. You can refer to me as Armic Greylant. I'm not exactly sure how long I've been in the lands, but it's been a good while. I played a Warrior for about four years. Then, I realized it was time for a change. Thus, I entered the world of the shadows. Now two years later I'm still breathing, aquiring fine gems, and living a fine life in Elanthia.
I've decided to do an entire rewrite of my first webpage and to share my experiences, good and bad of my travels through the eyes of a Rogue. My goal as a Rogue was to atleast reach Legend. I've reached that goal and beyond. I have changed a lot of my earlier opinions, philosphies, and training ideas as I've progressed and realized my mistakes and accomplishments.
This site is dedicated to the Rogue/Thief profession. A Rogue is by far the most diverse, versital, and exciting character class to play in the world of Gemstone III.
Please sign the guestbook with your thoughts at the bottom right of this page. Thanks.
Everyone needs a history
It all began in a village across the valley. My Mother and Father were shopkeepers in this mining town, selling goods and gear to the miners. But one morning a stranger dressed in robes arrived and told the miners that he needed the ore from the mine to help fund his war. Being a peaceful town we refused. The robed man left the village that evening. Two days had passed when he returned with an army of Krolvins. He once again demanded the profits from the mine be turned over to him.The village elders refused.The robed clad man then chanted toward the heavens.The sky turned dark,the wind became so strong it was hard to remain standing and the Krolvins began to attack.
The battle had been going on for several days, when my father told me of a town to the north called the Landing. He drew me a rough sketched map and told me to travel there and seek help. I set out that night for the place my father called the landing. The beasts within the forest were fierce. I had to hide quickly around every turn it seemed. The days dragged on. I lost track of time. I was cold, hungry, and weary.
But finally I came to a gate. A guard demanded five silver coins to enter. I told him of the battle in my village and that I needed to find help. He still demanded the silver. So I walked off and hid in the bushes. When he turned his head I snuck through the gate.
I was amazed by the size of the town. Merchants and travelers moved quickly through the streets. It was very loud. Peddlers yelling out, people talking, and soldiers rushing here and there. I ducked into a store. To my pleasure I saw a counter with food and drink sitting upon it. I waited till the shopkeeper turned his head and quickly grabbed some bread and a bottle of milk and ran into the street, slipping into an alley.
I sat down to eat my bread, when a large hand slammed down onto my shoulder. I turned and looked up to see a large man covered in steel.
The man spoke softly, "Be careful who ye steal from lad." I trembled and thought for sure I was going to die. He must have sensed my fear. He leaned forward and whispered, "Be calm lad we will not harm you." I glanced around and saw nobody else in the alley. Then suddenly like the wind a most lovely lady emerged from the shadows.
She smiled kindly and spoke, "I am Lady Daphia and this gentleman is Lord Tarrows." They took me to their home, fed me, and gave me some clean clothes.
"You are a mess lad. Whatever has happened to you?" Tarrows asked. I told them about the invasion of my village and that my father had sent me for help. They then took me to a fortress and told my story to a band of warriors. On that day, Lord Tarrows and an army of warriors set off toward my village.
Lady Daphia remained with me at their home. Travelers would come by the house with treasure boxes and with great skill Daphia would open them for a fee. She gave me a lockpick she called a mein. I practiced many hours a day. She was pleased with my progress. She also taught me that the travelers carry around way to many coins in their pouches. Thus she showed me the art of pick pocketing. You can make a fine living as a Rogue. Leave the fighting to the warriors. She would tell me.
Months later Tarrows returned with grave news. The village was in ruins and the Krolvins had taking over the mine and the village. And no one had survived. I was furious and was going to avenge my family.
Tarrows stopped me. "You are no match for the Krolvins son. You will be some day if you train hard."
With that said, he took me to the fortress on the North side of town and during the days I trained with the warriors there. Daphia said I was to small to stand toe to toe with my foes so in the evenings she taught me the art of ambushing. After a year spent with my Lord and Lady they told me that was all they could teach me. I would discover everything else on my own. They said it was time for them to travel to the isle. They boarded a large boat and I watched as it disappeared over the horizon. Till this day you can sometimes find me sitting on that dock with my memories. And now and then guarding the pot-bellied stove my family and I once sat around to keep warm and to share our lives together.
This is where it all began.
~Armic Greylant
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I spent my early years living on the filthy streets of the landing with nothing but a rusty old dagger and the rags on my back, learning the use of my blade so to survive the harsh realm. I owned nothing.
I befriended the unsavory types and studied their art. I was taught of the night, the tunnels, the alleys, and every shadowy nook. I existed with a group of miscreants within the bowels of the city. I lived the life of thievery by night and learned how to use a lock pick, by day.
As I grew in years, so did my wealth. I moved by night; secretly, quietly, and swiftly. I found riches to be taken.
Now by the dawn I travel South, home to my friends, my lavish abode, and many fine possessions. There I drink my wine and practice my trade.
I am who I want to be. The one that no one can recall. To be the one not to be remembered moments after weve passed in the street.
A thief no one forgets is a thief whose corpse lie in the street.
