Just testing: a testing ground for a screen-reader user.

[Drumheller]

Reader’s note: These are in the form of letters, with important terms that I shall be using with some regularity defined below.
100

[Drumheller]

H1
h2

[Drumheller]

this is a test

[Drumheller]

| Month | Equivalent |
|_________|
| Jannus | January |
Febtus | Febuary
Marsamir | March
Apnyl | April
Anya | May
Gynttu | June
Geullio | July
Asyns | August
Settyu | September
Octus | October
Novistus | November
Dectu | December

[Drumheller]

Month Equivalent
Jannus January
Febtus Febuary

[Drumheller]

1

[Drumheller]

There was something wrong about those eyes, but what. They were by no means ugly. Indeed, they were perhaps his most attractive feature. Well, that in his voice. Yet, there was still something off putting about them that she could not quite put her finger on. They held a bright luster to them, true, which combined with the intensity of the gaze gave them a patrician’s mighty heir. The coloration was a purplish-blue, as though someone had left an ink jar out one winter night and the ink had frozen entirely. There was something almost crystalline about them as well, though experiences had further hardened his very soul and his eyes were the testament to his shaping. Indigo, such an oddcolor for an orc, a half-orc she amended.



Or,

amber

[Bard]

this is a test

[Bard]

this is a test

[Bard]

this is a test

[Drumheller]

this is a test

[Drumheller]

trying

[Max Dirks]

Drum, I see you're testing coding presumably related to the wiki. Most of that coding, sans tables, will only work in forums that use "articles" rather than "threads." If you want to test headers, footnotes and what not, feel free to start a test page in the Althanas Wiki itself because it won't work properly here.

[Drumheller]

Ah, Thanks Max. Will continue to carry out in forum tests here though.

[Bard]

Let's see how this works


Resting at the southern base of the Sulgoran Steppes in central Salvar, Archen is known as the "gateway to the north". With rugged wilderness to its north and gentle grassy hills to its south, the kingdom's third largest city (home to almost two hundred thousand) rests between two different worlds. Viewed as the last bastion of civilization by many in southern Salvar, Archen serves as a vital trading post in the kingdom's heart. Lumber mills process the great pine logs brought from the highlands and tailors ply their trades on hundreds of animal pelts. Caravans carrying ore and other raw materials travel south along the ancient cobbled road affectionately nicknamed the "wolf trail", guarded by Vorgruk-Stokes mercenaries.

[Bard]

I apologize for my brevity in this my lord, but I have scant breaths in which to pen these words. Sera Wittier has been loosed from the camp near Deadfalls, and is making her way back to you on foot with a Fist to serve as escort. I am afraid that my Holder has already found out about her release, and will hold me responsible for the deal that was struck between Blalak and myself regarding the buying of her bond. No doubt when I return he shall hand me over to Gothmog for intertainment, of a sorts, and questioning. I promise you nothing he can do will cause me to loose my tongue on the matter, even if he takes me back out to sea. I now know where they are holding the Lady , but getting to her is impossible at the moment. Certain support structures will need to be removed before a grab can be made. I have two good tuskers on the inside, who are supplying me with information on the layout of where she is being held, as well as some idea of what they are up to and why they have kept her alive all this time. You know that the Lady is a sorceress of some skill, forgive me sir, for there is no other way to say this, but say it. They are using her blood as part of a summoning ritual, and preparing the innermost parts of the cave complex to summon something dreadfully horrible. Given the presence of the horned Devil, and the presence of the Erinyes here at Jarn’A’Shartak, I can only conclude that my bond holder, or someone that he serves has made some sort of pact with a Demon Lord. As for the Erinyes , they wear the guises of Drow, and go by the names Charinida & Irae Calimar, be most werry of Charinida , she is a seducer. There is much and more I do not of yet know, such as how the Priest Jamus Kelten plays into all this, or if my uncle is involved. Still I know with certainty that the man that now wears the priest’s skin is a counterfeit. I shall keep you posted on matters as they develop, either by raven, or through the use of one of your merchents when they visit the Holding. I would say more, but I have no time. I go now to meet my fate and endure what must be endured. I shall earn my name in this. Again, I shall keep you informed.

Signed,

The ugly Scout.



Footnotes
Breath, a term equivalent to the concept of seconds. While the use of seconds as a geometric term is regularly used, its transport into time keeping has not occurred by-in-large among Black Eye Orcs. Thus the term breath is used in its sted.

[Bard]

A witch captured by a group of slavers is believed responsible for killing multiple merchant guardsmen, along with the merchant himself, and freeing roughly a dozen slaves. The incident occurred in the town ofChillingsworthtwo days prior. The town itself, resides a day’s ride southwest of Archen. While the exact reasons for the obtainment of the witch are unknown, the few surviving guards from the incident claim no prior knowledge of the woman’s sorceress abilities. Thus, the lightening that initially struck and stunned many of the guards that day came completely by surprise, stunning most and killing some. Recounts of the events surrounding this first attack are conflicted however, some report the lightening coming from inside the holding cage, while two others report that it came from outside. One guardsman states that he saw a tall lanky foreigner, “pale in countenance, but richly garbed, blue eyed, with somewhat longish salt and pepper hair,” approach the rear of the cage. He claims that it was he that actually loosed the lightening, but that given his actions afterward, it seems likely that he was compelled to do so. As after loosing the lightening, the man ran away. Further support for the witch’s ability to magically compel can be seen from the unaccountable and strange actions of a fellow guardsman, who entered the cage, and leaving the pen unlocked, further led to the slaves escape. What is more, this same guardsman, Malagen Kha'Thars by name, then inexplicably turned on his fellow guards and his employer. Further support for, and demonstration of her powers can be noticed in the appearance of a pair of youths, one of whom along with a wild man, aided Malagen in slaying a number of guards, as well as Gyles Kwathan, who was in charge of the operations. It is believed that it was the witch, who in her callousness decided to leave Malagen behind, even though there were signs that someone tried to treat a wound that he received while slaying Master Kwathan. While Malagen was subsequently captured, thanks to the heroic efforts of Captain Edrick Katsyen Esquire, no knowledge was gleamed about the witch’s current whereabouts. No doubt the Church will send forth a brave Witch Hunter to deal with this scourge on the face of Salvar.

[Bard]

Let's see if this works:


Resting at the southern base of the Sulgoran Steppes in central Salvar, Archen is known as the "gateway to the north". With rugged wilderness to its north and gentle grassy hills to its south, the kingdom's third largest city (home to almost two hundred thousand) rests between two different worlds. Viewed as the last bastion of civilization by many in southern Salvar, Archen serves as a vital trading post in the kingdom's heart. Lumber mills process the great pine logs brought from the highlands and tailors ply their trades on hundreds of animal pelts. Caravans carrying ore and other raw materials travel south along the ancient cobbled road affectionately nicknamed the "wolf trail", guarded by Vorgruk-Stokes mercenaries.

[Bard]

The City Harbor

100
The lad offered no resistance as he was half dragged to his wagon. Any casual onlooker, and there were more than just a couple, would think the lad was used to having gorgeous women drag him around. Only the back of his neck gave the lye to such an assumption. “Oh aye good mistress, oh aye, I know that place.” He affirmed, golden curls dancing as he scrambled up onto the driver’s bench with all the liveliness of a squirrel. With one hand he snatched up the reins, while the other fumbled with a satchel connected to a strip of leather tied round his waste in front with a complicated knot. Even with that strap one might wonder how the skinny youth kept his trousers up. With an ease born of long experience, he twirled his right wrist and the wagon lurched into motion. While the rolling of the wheels was a little bumpy at first – the jolts rocking driver and passenger alike a couple of times – things smoothed out quickly enough. No sooner than the going leveled out, than the youth produced a roundish object from out of the diminutive haversack at his waste, which was all wrapped in some kind of goat skin casings. Working at the coverings with his free hand, the lad expertly guided the wagon round sailors, dock hands, merchants, and hawkers alike. The barely perceptible tugs on the reins commanding the Northern Haulers with all the sureness as if he were at their shoulders, instead of the other end of a draft halter. After just another moment of working, His left hand crossed his right, and “here mistress place this under your nose,” was the only warning she would have before a somewhat aged, but very strong smelling orange stuffed with cinnamon leafs was positioned before her. Along with the thin heavy knuckled hand of the youth, complete with two missing fingers on the side furthest away from his thumb.

“We’ll be approaching the fish market soon,” he said by way of explanation, “and no matter what time of the Brightening the smell is always bad.” He jerked the reins a little harder this time, avoiding a hand cart, which was backing out of a lean-to, which looked like it was sealing beer. At least there were barrels of something set behind a table, and several women were filling mugs with some dark liquid, a cash-box sat on the table near a beefy looking taciturn dwarf, who looked ready to fight anyone and everyone the moment they started making trouble. All about folks darted on one task or another, some watching where they were going and others not. Still the wagon never bumped a soul, never jostled a cart, or passerby, or carelessly stacked bluster of crates. “Just keep that near your nose and your eyes on the wall and all will be fine. The smell bothers everyone, “the lad continued cheerfully, with the kind of good-natured humor that was oft infectious. The wall though, it’s a real beut. You’ll see.”

And she did.

[Bard]

This is a title
this is also a title
This is too

[Bard]

header1header2datapointdatapoint

[Antheruin]

playing in your sandbox Drum

[Bard]

This is a test.


This is also a test

[Bard]

From the Writings of Anthro Highfeather

it was around this time that the followers of Narg Athron made their move