Linguistic Dragon has liberated the Shrines of Humility and Honesty in his ongoing playthrough of Ultima 6, bringing (I think) the first act of the game to a close:

I mentioned back in Ultima IV how much I enjoyed the aesthetic of the ruins of Magincia, especially since it provided such a stark contrast to the rest of the game. I feel much the same about New Magincia as it’s portrayed in Ultima V and VI. It’s always been the “odd duck” of the eight cities of virtue, whether it’s the ruins of the old city or the simple, rural nature of the new, and that feels rather fitting to me, considering it’s the town centered on humility, which is also something of the “misfit” of the eight virtues, independent of the three principles. Were I Britannian myself, I suspect that New Magincia would rank high on my list of favorite vacation spots.

…

It was Conor the fisherman who truly seemed to exemplify the virtue of humility, the only one of the townsfolk not to offer up himself as that highest of examples amongst the New Magincians, and uncertain of who to lift up as one out of reluctance to commend any of his neighbors over another. Antonio smiled when I gave him my answer, and pressed the Rune of Humility into my hands in reply – he had proven himself a good keeper for the rune, ensuring it was given only to those who truly understood what a humble man looked like.

Still musing over my experience in the village, we headed for the Isle of the Avatar and the Shrine of Humility that awaited upon it.

And with the shrine successfully liberated, his attention shifted to the checking out the Lycaeum and Moonglow, and had an odd experience at the Shrine of Honesty:

…it was a quick trip north to Dagger Isle and the Shrine of Honesty, which I found… unguarded, strangely enough. It was a simple matter to claim the last moonstone, and with that, I had reclaimed all eight shrines in the name of Britannia.

I don’t think the Shrine of Honesty is usually unguarded, is it? Perhaps the encounter just failed to trigger.

Be that as it may, Linguistic then set about exploring the Lycaeum in more detail, and re-connected with a former Companion:

Mariah was there in the Lycaeum as well, and after catching up for a bit I showed her the gargoyle book Iolo had been carrying. She recognized a few of the runes, telling me it was entitled “The Book of Prophecy” and that she had a silver tablet that she thought would help in translating the rest of it – or half of one, at least. She told me to seek out the gypsies she had bought it from to find out what happened to the other half.

Silver tablet, you say? Well…maybe in a bit.

…I sought to tie up a few loose ends before pursuing the other half of the silver tablet in earnest. I stopped by Lord British’s castle to store a few things and sell off some unnecessary equipment, then headed back to Yew to find Nicodemus and pick up a spell or two. In the process, I caught sight of some wisps, and upon recalling Xiao’s directive I spoke to them. They introduced themselves as some sort of interdimensional information brokers, and would be willing to arrange an exchange for knowledge that was “sufficiently dense.” They provided a sample of something they considered not particularly powerful or important – which turned out to be the Armageddon spell (!) of all things. Though I was somewhat dubious as to the wisdom behind it, I headed to the Lycaeum to find something they might think useful. My skill in wandering the stacks (which is fairly considerable by this point – numerous visits to Powell’s Books have helped with that) proved put to the test, but not only did I manage to find a book of Lost Mantras which might serve such a purpose, but also a copy of The Wizard of Oz, which I remembered being told Lord British himself had been looking for.

There’s only so much I should really excerpt, so I’ll encourage you to click on through to read the rest. As always, Linguistic has penned a lengthy and engaging piece.

He also had some comments on one NPC in particular:

… I’ve seen a bit of fun poked at the game and its presentation of humility here and there due to this, but I think there’s more here than just that simple statement. Humility is perhaps the most nuanced of the eight virtues, and that can be hard to capture properly. I think Conor does rather a fine job of it, though. There’s a quote by C. S. Lewis that the humble man “will not be a sort of greasy, smarmy person who is always telling you that, of course, he is nobody. Probably all you will think about him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you said to him. If you do dislike him it will be because you feel a little envious of anyone who seems to enjoy life so easily. He will not be thinking about humility, he will not be thinking about himself at all.” That pretty much describes how Conor is written to a T. I think it’s worth noting that beyond being the only one not to espouse his own humility, he’s also written in a such a way that he espouses very little about himself at all – most of the other townsfolk will gladly speak at length about themselves or their profession or their interests, but you hardly ever get more than a sentence or two out of Conor at a time.

And yes, he has even more to say than that, both about Conor, and about how characters in Ultima 6 are written in general.