
There are many people who touch our lives because of this hobby we call GemStone. Sometimes they only touch the lives of our characters within the game, and sometimes they influence us outside the game as well. I can't claim to have known Nora, player of Wanton, well outside the game. But I did have the pleasure of meeting her in person and working with her on various projects when we were both mentors.
Both in and out of game, it is difficult to impossible to find anyone who did not admire Wanton. She was the essence of a great warrior, patient guide to the young and all around fun person to be with. It is hard in mere words to express the the type of person she was. So I would like to present here a post from the message boards. This story sums it all up better than I ever could.
Category Quests, Sagas, and Events (6)
Topic Meyno's Pain (8)
Message Re: Abit disgusted (497)
By GS3-BHAMMA@PLAY.NET
On Jun 8, 2000 at 08:08
This struck a cord.. A fairly long time ago, the cleric I played at the time was in a group of people exploring a ruined tower. It was a quest and the people were flying around trying to solve it. We hit a wall, and knew that we needed to go through an area which gave all the signs of being a death trap. No-one wanted to be the one to start through the area, until my cleric (I can't even remember what object was needed, but I had it), opened the gate and stepped through.
A trap was sprung and my cleric (the only cleric in the party) died. Yes, I know it was not very smart to lose our only cleric. While every single one of the others explored the area that I had just opened up, one person, a fighter, sat with me, and lifekept me for almost an hour and a half, while the others solved the mystery.
As rediculous as this is, I am sitting here sniffling. The fighter was Lady Wanton. I miss you Lady Wanton. May the critters be rich, and lazy, and may you always travel in the company of friends.
GS3-Bhamma

Jandria, Pelendur, Wanton & Shadowkatt
Simucon 1998
In Memory of Lady Wanton Destruction
Chosen of Lorminstra, Knight of the Silver Gryphons, Member of The Order of Lorekeepers
In Memory of Lady Kali Sablefen
AKA Karen Hilyer and GM Aelsidhe
Elanthian Legend, Keeper of Traditions, and Friend to many
Kali was known to many Elanthians as the wood carver. She had a special knife that whittled wooden figurines of a multitude of types. Many of us felt we had really "arrived" when we finally owned one of her carvings. Kali was also known for taking newbies under her wing and showing them the ropes, especially young rangers.
As a GM, Aelsidhe was one of the guiding forces behind the scenes, making sure that the grand traditions and knowledge of the history of the game were kept alive. She was much loved by her fellow GM's.
Below is a poem that Karen wrote.
One Solstice Eve
(c) K. Lajway, 2000
The sun was bright and cold that day, and the air chill with frost,
The falling shadows lengthened in the snow -
As darkness came I wandered on, alone, a little lost,
And one by one the stars came out
And scattered points of light about
Each point a dream, a thought to light
My way through this, the longest night
As if to bring a soul respite from wond'ring where to go.
Faint music drifted to my ears from the town far below -
The distant celebration, joy and song -
Perhaps I was not lost, but it seemed very far to go.
And I knew if I walked that way
It would be just as far away.
The laughter echoed in my brain,
The pipers played that same refrain -
A thousand stars to light my way, I turned and wandered on.
My path meandered higher, as if I sought the moon;
The trees grew closer here, and chill the air.
I'd have to turn and find a fire to warm my spirit soon
And then before me in the glen
As if where one had never been
When I had looked before, a glow
Of golden light was on the snow -
A candle at the window, in a woodland cabin there.
A waft of smoke brought cooking smells - I trudged toward the door.
An old and cheerful voice called out, "Come in!".
He sat before the roaring fire, an ancient tome of lore
Before him on the hearth. He wrote
With feathered quill another note,
Looked up, then wrote another line,
Then bade me rest, and gave me wine
And sat me by the fire to dine, my spirit to restore.
He touched his book, its binding tooled with sun and moon and stars,
And beckoned me to listen as he read.
I watched the candle in the window cast its glow afar,
My mind a-wander as his soft voice led.
He read me tales of heroes
Who triumphed in the fight,
And men who sought for knowledge
And struggled for the light;
He spoke of ancient dragons,
And of depths with demons rife
Defeated by redemption
From evil, fear and strife.
He read of justice, hope, and dreams,
Of fools and of the wise;
And tales of bawdy laughter
As the fire danced in his eyes.
He read of beauty, and of love,
And stories from his youth,
And whispered, "This I give to you:
In legends there lies truth."
I drifted off, the wine-warmed visions dancing in my head;
Reluctantly, "The hour is late, I must be off," I said.
He filled my flask and bid me well, and showed me to the door,
I turned to go - he tapped his tome and said, "Just one thing more."
He traced the leathered rune
Of stars and sun and moon,
The candle glowing bright
As his words sang to the night:
"The sun is for passion and warmth and for life,
The moon is for dreams, and for love;
The stars in the night are for memory,
Each reflecting a thought from above.
Memory, history, blood of the world,
Spark of each life, of each mind,
Living forever in each who lives on
In the light that is left behind.
On this night of remembrance keep faith in the dream
And burn your flame bright, raise a glass to good cheer.
When the sun rises high on the frosty morn
May bright wishes be yours this new year."
A quiet smile crossed his lips then as he whispered low
And each star burned more brightly in reply.
A warm wind seemed to whisper in the magic words he spoke,
His incantation soft and low,
Around his fingers, starlit glow.
He gazed 'round at the wintry land
Then placed the volume in my hand
I closed my eyes to nod my thanks, looked up - and he was gone.
In the dark glen where the cabin had been - nothing remained but the wind.
But soft in the air came a whispering voice, warming my heart from within:
"May your dreams be sweet and peaceful, may your bed be soft and warm,
May sanctuary hold you, and keep you free from harm.
May your friends be true and loyal, may your enemies be few,
And whatever gods you follow send their sympathies to you.
May fantasy and wonder light the world before your eyes -
So long as we have magic words, the magic never dies."
I glanced at the sun and the moon and the stars
On the face of the magical tome,
And candlelit glow flickered still on the snow,
Lighting my way downward home.