Opening Statement
You can not buy it, can not save it or affect it in any other way imaginable (except you're a theoretical physicist of course and you're happy when you somehow gain one duoquinquagintillionth of a second) and thus of course it is what we all want and need most. I bet you know the feeling when you get up in the early morning before you go to school or work and feel like Pippin facing the battle of Pelennor. But so feel all who live to see such times. All we have to decide is what we do with the (free) time that is given to us.
And on the following lines is a summary which people have decided to spend their free time on MCME this week ;-)
>========================================================================<
Breaking News!
The finalists of the Pelargir Dome Contest aka House of the Faithful have been announced:
- Ivan Left Us! (@Eaglz, @_Thijs1801, @bender400, @jackg420)
- ProbablyNotGunnaFinish (@Indorilian aka IndoLad)
- I Have No Friends (@toeyoman aka Not_Artist)
>========================================================================<
Project Progress
Annúminas by @_Thijs1801
Andrast (In Progress) - Lead: @Tyranystrasz
Not often did we have such speedy terraformers as Tyranystrasz and Mandos! And once more they show us, that only cause a region is far off of every actions in book or movies, it does not at all mean that it is less interesting and amazing. Now go and hike through these unknown lands!
Anfalas (In Progress) - Lead: @DSESGH
Not too much progress here this week; a few more hills could be voxelled, but else its as sandy as before
Annúminas (In Progress) - Lead: @Fireinferno13
Progress continues in Annuminas! The house freebuild and farmhouse freebuilds are almost completed with only a few more builds remaining and a few more fixes to make. Attention will shift this week to construction of the upper class and rich districts along with city details such as roads, gardens, and parks.
- Fireinferno13
Calembel (In Progress) - Lead: @Ivan1pl
Only half a dozen houses are missing in the city, All those who have started a house in the Calembel Freebuild are kindly asked to revisit these and finish them in the near future, or else message Ivan if you want to hand your house over to someone else.
Dol Amroth (In Progress) - Lead: @Demonataz
Currently the interior of the palace is being tackled, and even though one may think that we soon have used up all possible block type combinations, the workers here have come up with a new style that combines sandstone and white bricks. Looks awesome! Some first furniture has already been placed, but those who are supposed to sit on it may not have been expected to do so in that place
Ethir Anduin (New) - Lead: @_Luk
Already last week he worked on this, but I forgot to mention it! Lukas is currently reworking the mouths of the Anduin, Ethir Anduin in Elvish. This will be a preparation for both the House of Tarannon Falastur public project and some fishermen settlements.
Lebennin (In Progress) - Lead: @otho
- no progress this week -
Misty Mountains (In Progress) - Lead: @Finrod_Amandil & @Emilio_
Half of the old Hollin Ridge could be removed by @Emilio. This is a way trickier task than one may think, as recreating the hill shapes we're used to from WorldPainter terrain is actually really nasty and time-consuming with VoxelSniper.
Moria (In Progress) - Lead: @Despot666 & @Finrod_Amandil
Screw you, oh god darn real life obligations! It's really frustrating when every time I sit down to write the Times I have no idea what happened to Moria this week, just because I had never the time to get online... However I'm optimistic that very soon better times come where I can give Moria the attention it deserves. We know very well how keen many of you are to get started on it, and for my part it has a very very high priority to get the community working on this as soon as possible.
Pelargir (In Progress) - Lead: @Credoo
The finalists of the dome contest have been picked! They now have one more week to apply the feedback they receive until a definite winner will be chosen.
In the actual city you now should think twice before you do anything unlawful, or you may find yourself sooner than you like at the gallows in front of the brand new court house in the west of the city!
There are still a few houses that can be built in the Pelargir House Freebuild! Please use the opportunity, gain some more skills and make the project proceed another small but important step!
Shire Trees (In Progress) - Lead: @kisos
Yavanna, the God of all living things, would be really happy if she visited the Shire now, the number of new trees makes it even for me hard to keep track of the progress!
Public Projects:
Ethring (In Progress) - Lead: @AWOL777
- no progress this week - (correct me if I'm wrong)
Lothlórien Vegetation (In Progress) - Lead: @Yourie98
Just some little progress in Lothlórien. A bunch of trees were pasted in and some sections in the forest were beautified by people who participated in jobs.
- Yourie98
Current Plotworld Jobs and Projects:
- [Contest] Pelargir Dome Contest (Finalist round)
- [Freebuild] Annúminas House Freebuild
- [Freebuild] Pelargir House Build
>========================================================================<
Status Updates
@toeyoman has been demoted from Artist back to Adventurer. Being an Artist comes along with already being a person to look up to for newer members, and we staff members are always making sure everyone matches these leader rules, and that is not only building skills but also the skill to moderate the funs to a good amount. Many thanks to you, as you very well did often contribute amazing builds and I'm sure you will do so in the future!
>========================================================================<
This Week's Highlights
Media of the Week
Bywater by @kisos. More >>here<<.
This week's ThemedBuild
ON HOLD until maintenance on Freebuild server is completed!
Chamber of Mazarbul
>>ThemedBuild post<<
>========================================================================<
Short Story Contest
The Lone Hunter
by @Soap887
by @Soap887
The sun was setting. Shadows already wrapped around the distant mountains and hills, and the
sky was an orange-red, riddled with great grey clouds that reflected the light of the sun.
In Jedan’s youth, he might have thought that it was pretty, and he’d have wondered what the sun
was. Some men said it was the shining fruit of a great tree: Those men were fools who listened
to Elven folk tales that were likely distorted by the winds of time. Some men said it was the
eternal flame itself, lit in the sky to provide light to the children of the gods. They were also fools
who listened to Elven folk tales, but the sun being the eternal flame seemed even less likely than
the shining fruit of a tree. Since his youth, he’d matured, and he knew now that wondering what
something was if you were never going to see it was useless: All he needed to know was that
the sun rose and the sun set, and the clouds flew above him with the sole purpose of raining on
him.
His tiny barely-structured tent had split a while ago, and the endless plains and rocks of
wherever in Middle Earth he was didn’t seem to have a single tree gracing the land that he could
shelter under for the night, so he’d probably be trudging through heavy rain in the dark, drowning
in mud. The black cloak that he’d taken from a dead ranger flew behind him, tattered and likely
not going to last much longer. He was probably going to die tonight.
As he looked around the plains, straining his eyes on the horizon for something edible, he
realised that entering this desert of a grassland had been a mistake. He had no idea where he
was, and there was almost nothing to forage; he should have taken his chances with Isengard,
gone through the Gap of Rohan and followed the road to the city of Edoras. He might have been
able to buy himself a horse, once he’d done a few jobs for some wealthy lords.
A horse would have been nice. He’d name it Harold. He didn’t know why, but Harold felt like a
fitting name for a brown horse. Knowing his luck, though, Harold would probably have gout or
run slow or harbour intense hate for him, or hide the pain of the universe within him. Still, he
would be moving faster than he was now.
Now that he thought about it, he was probably somewhere in Gondor: He’d gone south down a
mountain pass, a little ways westward of the Gap, and he was probably somewhere in South
Gondor. Or maybe not, he wasn’t sure: he’d made several turnings that had confused him, and
every hill and brook looked the same to him here.
Night fell quickly, and so did the rain. The dirt here was dusty and dry and it got wet and muddy
shockingly quickly. Soon, he couldn’t see in the night by anything but starlight and moonlight, and
was trudging through sticky mud that made his boots stick to the ground like the ground wanted
to swallow him up. If that wasn’t bad enough, rain slammed down constantly on him, unforgiving
and merciless. The lead-heavy rain smacked against his face, despite his paper-thin hood, and
he was cold, so unbearably cold. He had to keep moving or he would probably freeze to death,
or die of hypothermia, or be eaten in the night by werewolves.
Jedan was grateful for what little light the full moon gave him, even if he could only see a few
metres ahead of him. It shone upon the reflecting mud, showing him some shapes of what was
before him, but the heavy rain made sure that he couldn’t see any further than about ten metres.
A howl sounded from about a mile away. Wolves? Werewolves? He had no time to think about it
as he drew his sword and six barely visible figures the size of bears, but the shape of wolves,
bounded towards him and surrounded him, circling him like vultures circling a piece of meat.
He didn’t know if these were werewolves or simply creatures that looked like wolves that no one
had encountered before, and he didn’t care. All he knew was that he wouldn’t survive a fight with
them; not with the conditions around him.
One of them charged at him. A test of his strength, for the benefit of the others. He tried to
deflect its swiping claws with his sword, and he tried to push it backwards, but he lost balance
and fell into the mud. The others took this opportune moment and one of them leapt on him to
deal a finishing blow. Luckily, he moved quick enough to impale the creature on his sword and
push it off him, getting up quickly off the ground to fight the other two.
They were more cautious now that one of their number was dead, but they knew that it had
been mostly luck, and he wouldn’t survive a fight with five of them. One of them flew at him,
swiping its claws clumsily but powerfully. He managed to step back, deflecting the hit with more
success than last time, but the creature had served its purpose: One of the others around him
flanked him, slashing at his side and knocking him to the floor. Before he had time to think at all,
it jumped on him and pinned him to the ground, clawing at him fervently, ripping into his skin and
slicing apart his clothes like scissors on paper. The rain pattering heavily into his wounds only
salted the already salty wounds.
Suddenly, the beast froze, just as he had started to come to terms with his doom, and it fell on
him with a white arrow that stood out almost impossibly in the dark lodged in its brain, completely
immobilising him and crushing his chest. The others yowled and looked around frantically for the
source as their numbers fell with white arrows being dug into their heads with bull’s-eye
precision, even in this abysmal rain.
He looked around for the source, wondering if he would be next, and he saw a blinding light that
calmed him immediately. There were figures within the light, stepping around the dead bodies of
the creatures, but there was one that walked straight towards him. His eyes fluttered as his
vision dimmed and he fell unconscious from his wounds.
Jedan woke up on a bed-sized wooden bench under a white-leaved tree. It was still dark, but it
was considerably lighter than before. Sunrise approached quickly, he could tell. He looked
around and found that most of his clothes and armour lay beside him, mysteriously repaired
completely. He was on top of a hill, and he saw a path winding down into a camp. He heard
voices and life down the hill.
“Lá lorna nál, ammára.” Someone said behind him as he looked over the hills that blocked most
of his view of the plains. He didn’t know much about language, but he was sure that the glorious
blonde man in white and grey robes was speaking some kind of Elvish. “Essenya ná Taurevanto,
Nossëo Yára. Méran ista i essë lenya, liryar, ar manan ranyëal nóressen sina.”
He stood up, dressed in nothing but breeches and a tunic. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Elvish.” He
said apologetically.
He tilted his head. Did he understand the common tongue? “I should apologise. For your black
garb I took you for one of the Dúnedain of the north.”
“Are you Elves?” He asked, rather stupidly.
He didn’t answer for a moment. “I am Taurevanto of an old Elven family from the west. I lead my
people, who are what remains of the true Noldor of Middle Earth.” He stared into the horizon.
“We travel west, back to the land of Valinor.”
“Valinor?” He asked. He’d never heard that name before. Of course, he’d never spoken to any
Elves before. “What’s that?”
“A mannish word for it would be ‘Heaven’, though I believe it is often called the ‘Undying Lands’.”
“I’ve never heard of the Undying Lands.” He frowned.
He seemed surprised. “Many have, though I suppose those many are from Minas Tirith and such
places with great libraries.” He tilted his head, studying him. “I would like to know your name,
traveler.”
“My name is Jedan. I come from lands far from here.”
“What brings you here, to these lands?”
“I’m travelling to Minas Tirith to try and join the Rangers of the Morannon.”
“A noble position, watching the black lands of Mordor, though travelling through the south of
Gondor is hardly the beaten path. Why travel through here and not through Calenardhon?”
“Calenardhon? You mean Rohan?”
“It was named Calenardhon long before the horse-lords named it Rohan, but yes.”
He started dressing while speaking. “I would have to pass under Isengard.” Taurevanto looked
confused at this. “People say the Dunlendings are in open war against Rohan, using Isengard as
their base.”
He frowned. “Isengard was taken by the Rohirrim long ago, I believe. The Dunlendings of
Angrenost are long disempowered.”
It was his turn to frown: That wasn’t what those people up north in that village had said. “Well, in
any case, I wanted to avoid going near Isengard.” He stood up and begun fitting his light armour.
“I should go soon. I thank you for your hospitality, noble Elf.”
“ If you are going to be wandering in the plains of Gondor, you’ll need a worthy mount to carry
you.”
“If you have one for me, I would be happily obliged to take it.”
“One of the horses was found wandering the wild dragging a dead rider. He’s a wild horse, but
it’s likely the only horse that will accept a human rider.”
He fitted a shoulder pad of iron to his shoulder.“I’ll need supplies, as well, if you can spare them.”
“I took the liberty to pack your bag with supplies to keep you alive until you reach a town.”
He smiled gratefully and flung his black cloak over his armoured shoulders. “Thank you very
much, Taurevanto. I hope you and your people reach Valinor.”
Jedan walked through the temporary Elf-camp, built into the trees, feeling rather out of place.
Unexpectedly, the Elves walking around didn’t seem to question him there and they simply talked
and sung in their Elven language that was alien to him, shooting him a short stare as he tried to
find the area designated as the stable.
The stable-master let him take the reins of the horse, who was a mighty brown steed with a
magnificent mane and strong legs, glad to let the wild creature go, since it constantly caused
trouble with the other horses.
The horse calmed as he was mounted by Jedan, and seemed to accept him immediately.
“Your name is Harold.” He said to the horse, who seemed to understand this, flicking his ears.
“Ride, Harold.”
The horse sped forward immediately, kicking up the earth and riding forth into the hills and plains
at the speed of lightning, eager to impress his new master, who was a special one at that…
~ Written by Soap887
~ Quenya translation provided by Finrod_Amandil
~ Checked insecurely many times by Soap887
~ Submitted even though he thought nobody would like it because it’s probably s**t by Soap887
sky was an orange-red, riddled with great grey clouds that reflected the light of the sun.
In Jedan’s youth, he might have thought that it was pretty, and he’d have wondered what the sun
was. Some men said it was the shining fruit of a great tree: Those men were fools who listened
to Elven folk tales that were likely distorted by the winds of time. Some men said it was the
eternal flame itself, lit in the sky to provide light to the children of the gods. They were also fools
who listened to Elven folk tales, but the sun being the eternal flame seemed even less likely than
the shining fruit of a tree. Since his youth, he’d matured, and he knew now that wondering what
something was if you were never going to see it was useless: All he needed to know was that
the sun rose and the sun set, and the clouds flew above him with the sole purpose of raining on
him.
His tiny barely-structured tent had split a while ago, and the endless plains and rocks of
wherever in Middle Earth he was didn’t seem to have a single tree gracing the land that he could
shelter under for the night, so he’d probably be trudging through heavy rain in the dark, drowning
in mud. The black cloak that he’d taken from a dead ranger flew behind him, tattered and likely
not going to last much longer. He was probably going to die tonight.
As he looked around the plains, straining his eyes on the horizon for something edible, he
realised that entering this desert of a grassland had been a mistake. He had no idea where he
was, and there was almost nothing to forage; he should have taken his chances with Isengard,
gone through the Gap of Rohan and followed the road to the city of Edoras. He might have been
able to buy himself a horse, once he’d done a few jobs for some wealthy lords.
A horse would have been nice. He’d name it Harold. He didn’t know why, but Harold felt like a
fitting name for a brown horse. Knowing his luck, though, Harold would probably have gout or
run slow or harbour intense hate for him, or hide the pain of the universe within him. Still, he
would be moving faster than he was now.
Now that he thought about it, he was probably somewhere in Gondor: He’d gone south down a
mountain pass, a little ways westward of the Gap, and he was probably somewhere in South
Gondor. Or maybe not, he wasn’t sure: he’d made several turnings that had confused him, and
every hill and brook looked the same to him here.
Night fell quickly, and so did the rain. The dirt here was dusty and dry and it got wet and muddy
shockingly quickly. Soon, he couldn’t see in the night by anything but starlight and moonlight, and
was trudging through sticky mud that made his boots stick to the ground like the ground wanted
to swallow him up. If that wasn’t bad enough, rain slammed down constantly on him, unforgiving
and merciless. The lead-heavy rain smacked against his face, despite his paper-thin hood, and
he was cold, so unbearably cold. He had to keep moving or he would probably freeze to death,
or die of hypothermia, or be eaten in the night by werewolves.
Jedan was grateful for what little light the full moon gave him, even if he could only see a few
metres ahead of him. It shone upon the reflecting mud, showing him some shapes of what was
before him, but the heavy rain made sure that he couldn’t see any further than about ten metres.
A howl sounded from about a mile away. Wolves? Werewolves? He had no time to think about it
as he drew his sword and six barely visible figures the size of bears, but the shape of wolves,
bounded towards him and surrounded him, circling him like vultures circling a piece of meat.
He didn’t know if these were werewolves or simply creatures that looked like wolves that no one
had encountered before, and he didn’t care. All he knew was that he wouldn’t survive a fight with
them; not with the conditions around him.
One of them charged at him. A test of his strength, for the benefit of the others. He tried to
deflect its swiping claws with his sword, and he tried to push it backwards, but he lost balance
and fell into the mud. The others took this opportune moment and one of them leapt on him to
deal a finishing blow. Luckily, he moved quick enough to impale the creature on his sword and
push it off him, getting up quickly off the ground to fight the other two.
They were more cautious now that one of their number was dead, but they knew that it had
been mostly luck, and he wouldn’t survive a fight with five of them. One of them flew at him,
swiping its claws clumsily but powerfully. He managed to step back, deflecting the hit with more
success than last time, but the creature had served its purpose: One of the others around him
flanked him, slashing at his side and knocking him to the floor. Before he had time to think at all,
it jumped on him and pinned him to the ground, clawing at him fervently, ripping into his skin and
slicing apart his clothes like scissors on paper. The rain pattering heavily into his wounds only
salted the already salty wounds.
Suddenly, the beast froze, just as he had started to come to terms with his doom, and it fell on
him with a white arrow that stood out almost impossibly in the dark lodged in its brain, completely
immobilising him and crushing his chest. The others yowled and looked around frantically for the
source as their numbers fell with white arrows being dug into their heads with bull’s-eye
precision, even in this abysmal rain.
He looked around for the source, wondering if he would be next, and he saw a blinding light that
calmed him immediately. There were figures within the light, stepping around the dead bodies of
the creatures, but there was one that walked straight towards him. His eyes fluttered as his
vision dimmed and he fell unconscious from his wounds.
Jedan woke up on a bed-sized wooden bench under a white-leaved tree. It was still dark, but it
was considerably lighter than before. Sunrise approached quickly, he could tell. He looked
around and found that most of his clothes and armour lay beside him, mysteriously repaired
completely. He was on top of a hill, and he saw a path winding down into a camp. He heard
voices and life down the hill.
“Lá lorna nál, ammára.” Someone said behind him as he looked over the hills that blocked most
of his view of the plains. He didn’t know much about language, but he was sure that the glorious
blonde man in white and grey robes was speaking some kind of Elvish. “Essenya ná Taurevanto,
Nossëo Yára. Méran ista i essë lenya, liryar, ar manan ranyëal nóressen sina.”
He stood up, dressed in nothing but breeches and a tunic. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Elvish.” He
said apologetically.
He tilted his head. Did he understand the common tongue? “I should apologise. For your black
garb I took you for one of the Dúnedain of the north.”
“Are you Elves?” He asked, rather stupidly.
He didn’t answer for a moment. “I am Taurevanto of an old Elven family from the west. I lead my
people, who are what remains of the true Noldor of Middle Earth.” He stared into the horizon.
“We travel west, back to the land of Valinor.”
“Valinor?” He asked. He’d never heard that name before. Of course, he’d never spoken to any
Elves before. “What’s that?”
“A mannish word for it would be ‘Heaven’, though I believe it is often called the ‘Undying Lands’.”
“I’ve never heard of the Undying Lands.” He frowned.
He seemed surprised. “Many have, though I suppose those many are from Minas Tirith and such
places with great libraries.” He tilted his head, studying him. “I would like to know your name,
traveler.”
“My name is Jedan. I come from lands far from here.”
“What brings you here, to these lands?”
“I’m travelling to Minas Tirith to try and join the Rangers of the Morannon.”
“A noble position, watching the black lands of Mordor, though travelling through the south of
Gondor is hardly the beaten path. Why travel through here and not through Calenardhon?”
“Calenardhon? You mean Rohan?”
“It was named Calenardhon long before the horse-lords named it Rohan, but yes.”
He started dressing while speaking. “I would have to pass under Isengard.” Taurevanto looked
confused at this. “People say the Dunlendings are in open war against Rohan, using Isengard as
their base.”
He frowned. “Isengard was taken by the Rohirrim long ago, I believe. The Dunlendings of
Angrenost are long disempowered.”
It was his turn to frown: That wasn’t what those people up north in that village had said. “Well, in
any case, I wanted to avoid going near Isengard.” He stood up and begun fitting his light armour.
“I should go soon. I thank you for your hospitality, noble Elf.”
“ If you are going to be wandering in the plains of Gondor, you’ll need a worthy mount to carry
you.”
“If you have one for me, I would be happily obliged to take it.”
“One of the horses was found wandering the wild dragging a dead rider. He’s a wild horse, but
it’s likely the only horse that will accept a human rider.”
He fitted a shoulder pad of iron to his shoulder.“I’ll need supplies, as well, if you can spare them.”
“I took the liberty to pack your bag with supplies to keep you alive until you reach a town.”
He smiled gratefully and flung his black cloak over his armoured shoulders. “Thank you very
much, Taurevanto. I hope you and your people reach Valinor.”
Jedan walked through the temporary Elf-camp, built into the trees, feeling rather out of place.
Unexpectedly, the Elves walking around didn’t seem to question him there and they simply talked
and sung in their Elven language that was alien to him, shooting him a short stare as he tried to
find the area designated as the stable.
The stable-master let him take the reins of the horse, who was a mighty brown steed with a
magnificent mane and strong legs, glad to let the wild creature go, since it constantly caused
trouble with the other horses.
The horse calmed as he was mounted by Jedan, and seemed to accept him immediately.
“Your name is Harold.” He said to the horse, who seemed to understand this, flicking his ears.
“Ride, Harold.”
The horse sped forward immediately, kicking up the earth and riding forth into the hills and plains
at the speed of lightning, eager to impress his new master, who was a special one at that…
~ Written by Soap887
~ Quenya translation provided by Finrod_Amandil
~ Checked insecurely many times by Soap887
~ Submitted even though he thought nobody would like it because it’s probably s**t by Soap887
>========================================================================<
Community Outreach
Quick Build Challenge: @PINT00 is organizing a Quick Build Challenge, which is a competition where four builders try to build a certain topic in a very short time. The first round has taken place this weekend, the winner shall be chosen through community voting! The link to that form aswell as to where one can vote for the next week's topic can be found >>here<<.
And for those who can't imagine how that event works, @mattlego recorded the first edition of it:
Scheduled Tours: Our guides are running scheduled tours every week on Saturdays at 9pm GMT. So if you look out for a tour and never managed to catch a guide to give you one, this is the date you gotta go on the server.
Times Feedback: Have a thought concerning the presentation of the MCME Times and how it can be improved? Because we are always looking for new ways to mix up and improve the Times experience through any means necessary and, if you have a comment or concern, it's likely that someone else had it as well and just didn't say anything about it. So be sure to message @Finrod_Amandil your thoughts through a PM or directly in this thread.
~
~~
~~
~
Like our Planetminecraft page daily! It's a great way to make ourselves known among other Minecrafters! Click the picture below!
Like our Planetminecraft page daily! It's a great way to make ourselves known among other Minecrafters! Click the picture below!
>========================================================================<
Closing Statement
Not only for Moria I wished so much I had more free time; last christmas I got the entire A Song of Ice and Fire book series (10 thick books), and by now have not even read half of the first one. When I remember earlier times where I did read entire books in only few days, the following quote may match pretty well:
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