Graeme
03-14-2004, 7:56 PM
Heya, so if you haven't already seen this thread:
http://www.warboards.org/showthread.php?t=840
and more importantly this thread:
http://www.warboards.org/showpost.php?p=17416&postcount=23
Then you'll have no idea what's going on, so go and read up on both of those threads. I'm posting this here, for lack of a better place to put it. Perhaps if we actually get this thing going, we could actually get a subforum for it. For now, this homely little thread should do.
Alright. Basically what I'm doing . . . is making a strategic, multiplayer, roleplaying game, using graphics (maps, pictures, etc.) and text. The game itself will be built using PHP, and hopefully we can recruit some php-adepts to help us out.
I quickly threw some stuff together (really not my best work, but you've got to build off of something eh? Everything I'm showing now will very likely be done, and redone several thousand times before we finish this thing. So without further ado:
The History:
The Epitaph of Ral’Dorem
Prologue
The soft, nearly translucent clouds bobbed slowly along the northern horizon. The land looked somewhat lifeless, aside from the common singing of the Gnomish folk. The trees seemed bare, lacking the lovely chirps of the green flecked bobbin and the cawing of the red crested black bird. Birds were a very rare sight at this time of year though. The land was slowing down; preparing for what would be a harsh winter ahead. Flecks of snow were visible on the chilled earth and along the lichen-inhabited rock. Still, the sun shone brightly, attempting to drive the snow clouds away. It was one of those days in which it’s necessary to squint your eyes at all times, or stay under the shade of the giant willows scattered around the hilly landscape.
The willows were really quite a work of magic; sprouting from the uninhabitable earth, to give refuge to passerby’s. The willows didn’t really mind the tourists coming to play under their large widespread arms. In fact, they rather enjoyed the company. One stunningly large weeping willow, with drooping branches covered in purple-gray, feather-like leaves recalled the last time it had been graced with a human’s company . . .
A Lonely Mage Loses his Grip on the Walking Stick
A young, human mage ran through the fields with ever growing speed. He held his staff behind his body, murmuring lightly, as the tip of the staff glowed and let out a stench worse than that of a Murloc. His hands gripped the staff tighter as he jumped off the top of a large hill. As if suspended by ropes, he zipped along in the air, floating like a feather. He began slowing down as he reached a large weeping willow. The mage hopped on to the ground, disenchanted his staff, and continued in, underneath the willow. It was there that he saw them.
Two gnomes sat eagerly on the surfacing roots of the willow tree, chatting in an unknown language. They didn’t seem to notice the young mage’s entry, so the mage spoke up, “Ahem . . . “, the gnomes looked up at the giant-like human, “Yes, hum, I am Alanor.”
The smaller of the two gnomes jumped off of his seat and examined the figure closely. Lightly touching the fabric of the robe, and smelling the scent on the miscreant mage he replied, “Yes . . . yes you are. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
The mage seemed insulted, yelling out, “Of course I am! What do you take me for, a fool?!” Lightning seemed to flicker across his eyes for a second as he enunciated the word fool.
The second, much taller gnome spoke up, “You will not speak to our leader like that. Treat him with respect, or you will soon find yourself a grave.”
The mage calmed down, his breathing slowing ever lightly, “I . . . I’m sorry.” The mage pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, “Here is my end of the bargain . . . and where is the Eye of Isthcalus?”
The small gnome reached inside his pocket, pulling out a small gem-like object, and held it out for the human to take. The gnome spoke slowly, and clearly, “This is what you’re looking for young human . . . but use it wisely. The eye can bring both great joy, and great evil to this world. We will be attentive as to which path you choose. We will stop you if . . . “
The mage interrupted, “Don’t bother with your lectures foolish gnome.” The mage raised his staff slightly and started chanting. Immediately, the two gnomes set themselves in action, and began chanting counter spells. Before they could get the words out, the mage had summoned a great ball of fire, which was now spiraling towards the gnomes. The gnomes quickly blinked out of existence, and reappeared on top of the willow tree. The ball of fire continued in its path, hitting the tree. The tiny licks of flames quickly crawled around the elder tree’s branches, as the tree writhed and screamed in agony.
The gnomes doused the flames as quickly as possible, but by the time they were done, the mage was nowhere in site. The smaller gnome spoke quietly, “A great evil has arisen . . . we must gather the council . . . “. With those words, the two gnomes disappeared in a puff of smoke.
A Complex History Recounted in but a Few Words
The Death of a Radical Mind
Seventy-five years ago, two gnomes entered the Council of the Wise with grave problems. The council heeded their warning, and attempted to stop the madness that would follow. Gathering energy from the five magicks, they attempted to destroy the Eye of Isthcalus once and for all. The five wise entities drew their power from the very ends of the earth, and sent it rippling through the very fabric of time itself. The attack was as silent as the gentle breeze along the northern shores of Belveere, and was invisible to the untrained eye. It twisted and contorted logic around it, as it approached its target, Alanor.
It was then that something went horribly wrong. Alanor expected such an attack from the five wise entities. As the magick encircled Alanor, he only grew with power. The eye floated steadily above him, channeling the offensive magic, and transforming it into raw power, which Alanor consumed through his staff. Alanor’s cloak shook violently, as though it was a living being, and his cackling echoed throughout the cavern around him.
The cackling ceased almost immediately, as the gentle flow of energy stopped, and the world around Alanor began to collapse. Screams of intense agony replaced the laughter, as bolts flew forth from the young mage’s chest. The dips and nuances of the cave twirled around in Alanor’s mind as he fell to the floor. A black veil encircled the human’s senses as he fell into the underworld.
The After-Shock
As one of the greatest mages of our time fell into the underworld, four bolts of red lightning escaped the perilous caverns of Al’Thak. The first of the red bolts approached the long deadened volcano on the northern island of Belveere. The second flew towards a small, unnamed island to the south-west. The third bolt fell upon an island on the eastern shore of Ral’Dorem. The last bolt fell just east of the cave of WindRiders. This final bolt was the key to the plague that would soon envelope the earth.
Loose Ends
These four great bolts sparked life into the somewhat deadened earth. They would also be the bolts that would consume the lively earth in the years to come. Although the red lightning had originally appeared to be harmless, it contained such a magic that the world had never seen before. These bolts would make man and beast alike mad, driving them to thirst for the power of dark magic.
The first bolt fell upon the island of Belveere. It is interesting to note that soon after this occurrence, the humans, who had earlier occupied the western side of Ral’Dorem, migrated to this long forgotten, mountainous island. They harvested the power fed to them through the now active volcano, and used it to further their skills in sorcery. After half of a century, the humans began migrating back in to the larger continent of Ral’Dorem, in an imperialistic manner.
The second bolt flew towards a small, unnamed island. Little is known about this island, and little can be told about the bolt’s effects.
The third bolt hit a small island to the east of Ral’Dorem. A decade after the bolt hit, the island literally disappeared. It is rumoured that the greatest wizards of the land gathered together to cloak the island from non-magic users. Story tales tell of a pact, made by these great magicians, to teach the most gifted of people and creatures in the arts of magic. These tales further a story of a mysterious island, guarded by Chimeras. They tell of an island where a lifetime lasts for a thousand years. Since none of this can be confirmed, scholars have simply assumed that the island sank, due to the increase in atmospheric pressure.
The final bolt has been deemed the most troublesome bolt. It struck a patch of land, just east of the cave of windriders, and opened a partial gateway to the underworld. The opening of this gateway is known as the plague and became the ultimate goal of a man named Crucius.
The Plague
Crucius exploited the partial gateway to the underworld, using a long forgotten necromancy, practiced by the Orcish shamans in the past. The portal was originally harmless, killing off a few trees and making the land around it look diseased. It wasn’t until Crucius pried at the portal, slowly opening it, that trouble occurred. The patch of deadened land, known as blight, grew with a renewed vigor, as Crucius recited the long-forgotten spells. Strange creatures began appearing in the land, and attacked the bordering farms and towns.
As more creatures made their appearance in Ral’Dorem, Crucius grew even stranger. It was as though he was becoming obsessed with the undead portal. His friends deserted him soon after this obsession set in. His mind was set on this power beyond the portal, and he abandoned the thought of ever sleeping again. Crucius would sit in his home, situated a kilometer away from the actual portal, reading. He would read for countless hours on the ancient shamanistic magic, and would occasionally chant a spell under his breath.
After a month of this radical behaviour, Crucius found the key he was looking for. Crucius found the one thing that would allow him to achieve the ultimate power he had been craving for. It was then, that Crucius released he would need help to open the gateways of hell. Crucius immediately set off on a trek to neighbouring nations. He called to the aid of the Orcish and Troll hordes. He was met with great hospitality, as the Orcish and Troll shamans agreed to help perform the ritual needed.
After much preparation, 20 years after Crucius called to the aid of the Orcish and Troll hordes, they began the incantation. Twenty highly skilled shamans took their part in the massive spell, as Crucius stood in the middle of the incantation circle. It was as if he was conducting a piece of music, swinging his arms, to and fro and a circular motion. A dark light encircled the crazed, power-driven Crucius, and he began to scream as if being torn by the devil himself. The crazed man rose slowly into the air, his back arched slightly, his head looking toward the clouds. His eyes glowed a viciously deep red; the colour of death, that would send the sanest of men into the mad house. A sudden flash of light arched throughout the deadened land, and in seconds, the incantation was over.
The once sane man fell to the ground, crumpled in a ball. He shook violently as he talked to himself in a dark, demonic voice. The words of a babbling idiot spewed fervently throughout the vast, plain landscape. Darkness embraced the man, and darkness would be all the man would ever have. He slowly stood up, but crumpled as his knee tried to straighten itself out. Crucius tried to open his eyes, but found he couldn’t. He shook his head furiously, gaining some slight vision, behind his eyelids. As he stared into the darkness, shapes around him began to become tangible. Gray shadows drifted across the darkness, and a red light at the end of the darkness grew with intensity. It began to envelope Crucius’ mind and soul. He passed out seconds later.
That's the end of the story. Here's a rough copy of what we'll say after the history:
It has been 50 years since Crucius unlocked the portal to the underworld, and we now find ourselves smack dab in the middle of a war for the one thing that every being in Ral'Dorem craves - Magick.
Human forces have allied themselves with the Night Elves, and the Dwarves, in a desperate attempt to restore peace to the lands. The Undead have gathered help from Orcish and Troll clans, and plan on conquering the alliance set up against them.
You must choose which side you want to fight for. Are you an evil, bloodthirsty undead soldier, looking to slit the throats of your enemies, or are you a magick-thirsty human, attempting to destroy these brutish invaders?
To register, click here . . . etc. etc.
Now here's the map I threw together:
http://24.112.153.191:1024/EoR/RalMap.jpg
As you can see, the map is divided into a grid, with letters and numbers along the sides. Each different piece of the grid represents a different area that a user can be situated on. By clicking on an area on the map, you will be brought to a separate page, listing the players on that square, shops in the area, monsters around etc.
When you register, you choose whether you want to be horde, or alliance. You then choose your race (each race having a different racial benefit). You will then get a character placed on the map, which you are free to use.
The character will have various stats (hp, defense, magic power) and have gold, all which can be affected by certain things on the forums (ie. how long you've been registered, your # of posts, etc.), and by the amount of experience you've gained. Your character's portrait will be shown as your forum avatar. You will also be able to learn skills, by spending money you have acquired (through forum posts).
After a certain amount of time (has yet to be defined), you will be given the oppurtunity to move one square. Travelling on water and travelling on rocky or hazardous land will cost you money (for a ship or for a guide), unless you have a certain skill that allows you to travel over these areas without paying (ie. ship building).
Certain areas of the map will have different attributes. For example, if you're on a water square, you'll fight water-creatures. If you're on a beach square, you'll fight beach creatures like crabs. On a land square, you fight land creatures. Certain squares will be special, and used only for events (ie. the cavern, the whale, etc.). If someone of the same faction is on the same square as you, you can be healed/heal them if either of you have the skill. If someone from an opposing faction is on the same square as you, you can challenge them to a duel.
If you win a duel, you stay at the square you were on when you initiated the duel, and you receive a portion of the person you fought against's gold. The person that lost is sent back to their starting location, and loses some gold.
Every week or so, one of the GMs will create a new bit of storyline, which may open up new shops, new skills, new routes of travel, new areas to explore, etc.
More on monsters: Every square you are on will have a few monsters to fight, each monster with a varying difficulty. In order to initiate a battle, you click a link entitled "initiate battle [difficulty]" - the difficulty being the set difficulty of the monster of that battle (it will likely have a numerical value representing the monster's level). Each square will have a minimum of three monsters, each a different difficulty level and abilities than the last. The difficulty level will depend on where you are on the map.
That's all for now, I'll go into further detail tomorrow, or later tonight.
http://www.warboards.org/showthread.php?t=840
and more importantly this thread:
http://www.warboards.org/showpost.php?p=17416&postcount=23
Then you'll have no idea what's going on, so go and read up on both of those threads. I'm posting this here, for lack of a better place to put it. Perhaps if we actually get this thing going, we could actually get a subforum for it. For now, this homely little thread should do.
Alright. Basically what I'm doing . . . is making a strategic, multiplayer, roleplaying game, using graphics (maps, pictures, etc.) and text. The game itself will be built using PHP, and hopefully we can recruit some php-adepts to help us out.
I quickly threw some stuff together (really not my best work, but you've got to build off of something eh? Everything I'm showing now will very likely be done, and redone several thousand times before we finish this thing. So without further ado:
The History:
The Epitaph of Ral’Dorem
Prologue
The soft, nearly translucent clouds bobbed slowly along the northern horizon. The land looked somewhat lifeless, aside from the common singing of the Gnomish folk. The trees seemed bare, lacking the lovely chirps of the green flecked bobbin and the cawing of the red crested black bird. Birds were a very rare sight at this time of year though. The land was slowing down; preparing for what would be a harsh winter ahead. Flecks of snow were visible on the chilled earth and along the lichen-inhabited rock. Still, the sun shone brightly, attempting to drive the snow clouds away. It was one of those days in which it’s necessary to squint your eyes at all times, or stay under the shade of the giant willows scattered around the hilly landscape.
The willows were really quite a work of magic; sprouting from the uninhabitable earth, to give refuge to passerby’s. The willows didn’t really mind the tourists coming to play under their large widespread arms. In fact, they rather enjoyed the company. One stunningly large weeping willow, with drooping branches covered in purple-gray, feather-like leaves recalled the last time it had been graced with a human’s company . . .
A Lonely Mage Loses his Grip on the Walking Stick
A young, human mage ran through the fields with ever growing speed. He held his staff behind his body, murmuring lightly, as the tip of the staff glowed and let out a stench worse than that of a Murloc. His hands gripped the staff tighter as he jumped off the top of a large hill. As if suspended by ropes, he zipped along in the air, floating like a feather. He began slowing down as he reached a large weeping willow. The mage hopped on to the ground, disenchanted his staff, and continued in, underneath the willow. It was there that he saw them.
Two gnomes sat eagerly on the surfacing roots of the willow tree, chatting in an unknown language. They didn’t seem to notice the young mage’s entry, so the mage spoke up, “Ahem . . . “, the gnomes looked up at the giant-like human, “Yes, hum, I am Alanor.”
The smaller of the two gnomes jumped off of his seat and examined the figure closely. Lightly touching the fabric of the robe, and smelling the scent on the miscreant mage he replied, “Yes . . . yes you are. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
The mage seemed insulted, yelling out, “Of course I am! What do you take me for, a fool?!” Lightning seemed to flicker across his eyes for a second as he enunciated the word fool.
The second, much taller gnome spoke up, “You will not speak to our leader like that. Treat him with respect, or you will soon find yourself a grave.”
The mage calmed down, his breathing slowing ever lightly, “I . . . I’m sorry.” The mage pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, “Here is my end of the bargain . . . and where is the Eye of Isthcalus?”
The small gnome reached inside his pocket, pulling out a small gem-like object, and held it out for the human to take. The gnome spoke slowly, and clearly, “This is what you’re looking for young human . . . but use it wisely. The eye can bring both great joy, and great evil to this world. We will be attentive as to which path you choose. We will stop you if . . . “
The mage interrupted, “Don’t bother with your lectures foolish gnome.” The mage raised his staff slightly and started chanting. Immediately, the two gnomes set themselves in action, and began chanting counter spells. Before they could get the words out, the mage had summoned a great ball of fire, which was now spiraling towards the gnomes. The gnomes quickly blinked out of existence, and reappeared on top of the willow tree. The ball of fire continued in its path, hitting the tree. The tiny licks of flames quickly crawled around the elder tree’s branches, as the tree writhed and screamed in agony.
The gnomes doused the flames as quickly as possible, but by the time they were done, the mage was nowhere in site. The smaller gnome spoke quietly, “A great evil has arisen . . . we must gather the council . . . “. With those words, the two gnomes disappeared in a puff of smoke.
A Complex History Recounted in but a Few Words
The Death of a Radical Mind
Seventy-five years ago, two gnomes entered the Council of the Wise with grave problems. The council heeded their warning, and attempted to stop the madness that would follow. Gathering energy from the five magicks, they attempted to destroy the Eye of Isthcalus once and for all. The five wise entities drew their power from the very ends of the earth, and sent it rippling through the very fabric of time itself. The attack was as silent as the gentle breeze along the northern shores of Belveere, and was invisible to the untrained eye. It twisted and contorted logic around it, as it approached its target, Alanor.
It was then that something went horribly wrong. Alanor expected such an attack from the five wise entities. As the magick encircled Alanor, he only grew with power. The eye floated steadily above him, channeling the offensive magic, and transforming it into raw power, which Alanor consumed through his staff. Alanor’s cloak shook violently, as though it was a living being, and his cackling echoed throughout the cavern around him.
The cackling ceased almost immediately, as the gentle flow of energy stopped, and the world around Alanor began to collapse. Screams of intense agony replaced the laughter, as bolts flew forth from the young mage’s chest. The dips and nuances of the cave twirled around in Alanor’s mind as he fell to the floor. A black veil encircled the human’s senses as he fell into the underworld.
The After-Shock
As one of the greatest mages of our time fell into the underworld, four bolts of red lightning escaped the perilous caverns of Al’Thak. The first of the red bolts approached the long deadened volcano on the northern island of Belveere. The second flew towards a small, unnamed island to the south-west. The third bolt fell upon an island on the eastern shore of Ral’Dorem. The last bolt fell just east of the cave of WindRiders. This final bolt was the key to the plague that would soon envelope the earth.
Loose Ends
These four great bolts sparked life into the somewhat deadened earth. They would also be the bolts that would consume the lively earth in the years to come. Although the red lightning had originally appeared to be harmless, it contained such a magic that the world had never seen before. These bolts would make man and beast alike mad, driving them to thirst for the power of dark magic.
The first bolt fell upon the island of Belveere. It is interesting to note that soon after this occurrence, the humans, who had earlier occupied the western side of Ral’Dorem, migrated to this long forgotten, mountainous island. They harvested the power fed to them through the now active volcano, and used it to further their skills in sorcery. After half of a century, the humans began migrating back in to the larger continent of Ral’Dorem, in an imperialistic manner.
The second bolt flew towards a small, unnamed island. Little is known about this island, and little can be told about the bolt’s effects.
The third bolt hit a small island to the east of Ral’Dorem. A decade after the bolt hit, the island literally disappeared. It is rumoured that the greatest wizards of the land gathered together to cloak the island from non-magic users. Story tales tell of a pact, made by these great magicians, to teach the most gifted of people and creatures in the arts of magic. These tales further a story of a mysterious island, guarded by Chimeras. They tell of an island where a lifetime lasts for a thousand years. Since none of this can be confirmed, scholars have simply assumed that the island sank, due to the increase in atmospheric pressure.
The final bolt has been deemed the most troublesome bolt. It struck a patch of land, just east of the cave of windriders, and opened a partial gateway to the underworld. The opening of this gateway is known as the plague and became the ultimate goal of a man named Crucius.
The Plague
Crucius exploited the partial gateway to the underworld, using a long forgotten necromancy, practiced by the Orcish shamans in the past. The portal was originally harmless, killing off a few trees and making the land around it look diseased. It wasn’t until Crucius pried at the portal, slowly opening it, that trouble occurred. The patch of deadened land, known as blight, grew with a renewed vigor, as Crucius recited the long-forgotten spells. Strange creatures began appearing in the land, and attacked the bordering farms and towns.
As more creatures made their appearance in Ral’Dorem, Crucius grew even stranger. It was as though he was becoming obsessed with the undead portal. His friends deserted him soon after this obsession set in. His mind was set on this power beyond the portal, and he abandoned the thought of ever sleeping again. Crucius would sit in his home, situated a kilometer away from the actual portal, reading. He would read for countless hours on the ancient shamanistic magic, and would occasionally chant a spell under his breath.
After a month of this radical behaviour, Crucius found the key he was looking for. Crucius found the one thing that would allow him to achieve the ultimate power he had been craving for. It was then, that Crucius released he would need help to open the gateways of hell. Crucius immediately set off on a trek to neighbouring nations. He called to the aid of the Orcish and Troll hordes. He was met with great hospitality, as the Orcish and Troll shamans agreed to help perform the ritual needed.
After much preparation, 20 years after Crucius called to the aid of the Orcish and Troll hordes, they began the incantation. Twenty highly skilled shamans took their part in the massive spell, as Crucius stood in the middle of the incantation circle. It was as if he was conducting a piece of music, swinging his arms, to and fro and a circular motion. A dark light encircled the crazed, power-driven Crucius, and he began to scream as if being torn by the devil himself. The crazed man rose slowly into the air, his back arched slightly, his head looking toward the clouds. His eyes glowed a viciously deep red; the colour of death, that would send the sanest of men into the mad house. A sudden flash of light arched throughout the deadened land, and in seconds, the incantation was over.
The once sane man fell to the ground, crumpled in a ball. He shook violently as he talked to himself in a dark, demonic voice. The words of a babbling idiot spewed fervently throughout the vast, plain landscape. Darkness embraced the man, and darkness would be all the man would ever have. He slowly stood up, but crumpled as his knee tried to straighten itself out. Crucius tried to open his eyes, but found he couldn’t. He shook his head furiously, gaining some slight vision, behind his eyelids. As he stared into the darkness, shapes around him began to become tangible. Gray shadows drifted across the darkness, and a red light at the end of the darkness grew with intensity. It began to envelope Crucius’ mind and soul. He passed out seconds later.
That's the end of the story. Here's a rough copy of what we'll say after the history:
It has been 50 years since Crucius unlocked the portal to the underworld, and we now find ourselves smack dab in the middle of a war for the one thing that every being in Ral'Dorem craves - Magick.
Human forces have allied themselves with the Night Elves, and the Dwarves, in a desperate attempt to restore peace to the lands. The Undead have gathered help from Orcish and Troll clans, and plan on conquering the alliance set up against them.
You must choose which side you want to fight for. Are you an evil, bloodthirsty undead soldier, looking to slit the throats of your enemies, or are you a magick-thirsty human, attempting to destroy these brutish invaders?
To register, click here . . . etc. etc.
Now here's the map I threw together:
http://24.112.153.191:1024/EoR/RalMap.jpg
As you can see, the map is divided into a grid, with letters and numbers along the sides. Each different piece of the grid represents a different area that a user can be situated on. By clicking on an area on the map, you will be brought to a separate page, listing the players on that square, shops in the area, monsters around etc.
When you register, you choose whether you want to be horde, or alliance. You then choose your race (each race having a different racial benefit). You will then get a character placed on the map, which you are free to use.
The character will have various stats (hp, defense, magic power) and have gold, all which can be affected by certain things on the forums (ie. how long you've been registered, your # of posts, etc.), and by the amount of experience you've gained. Your character's portrait will be shown as your forum avatar. You will also be able to learn skills, by spending money you have acquired (through forum posts).
After a certain amount of time (has yet to be defined), you will be given the oppurtunity to move one square. Travelling on water and travelling on rocky or hazardous land will cost you money (for a ship or for a guide), unless you have a certain skill that allows you to travel over these areas without paying (ie. ship building).
Certain areas of the map will have different attributes. For example, if you're on a water square, you'll fight water-creatures. If you're on a beach square, you'll fight beach creatures like crabs. On a land square, you fight land creatures. Certain squares will be special, and used only for events (ie. the cavern, the whale, etc.). If someone of the same faction is on the same square as you, you can be healed/heal them if either of you have the skill. If someone from an opposing faction is on the same square as you, you can challenge them to a duel.
If you win a duel, you stay at the square you were on when you initiated the duel, and you receive a portion of the person you fought against's gold. The person that lost is sent back to their starting location, and loses some gold.
Every week or so, one of the GMs will create a new bit of storyline, which may open up new shops, new skills, new routes of travel, new areas to explore, etc.
More on monsters: Every square you are on will have a few monsters to fight, each monster with a varying difficulty. In order to initiate a battle, you click a link entitled "initiate battle [difficulty]" - the difficulty being the set difficulty of the monster of that battle (it will likely have a numerical value representing the monster's level). Each square will have a minimum of three monsters, each a different difficulty level and abilities than the last. The difficulty level will depend on where you are on the map.
That's all for now, I'll go into further detail tomorrow, or later tonight.