Volume Eight Issue Fourteen
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VOLUME EIGHT, ISSUE FOURTEEN July 19, 2001
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Calendar of Events
LegendMEET Chicago!
LEGENDITES
Announcements
Clan News
A Collision of Contexts
A letter from a cobbler
The Birth of Alissa
Observed:....
Angel of Death
Archaon - A Biography
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/__| LegendMUD Calendar of Events |__\
'----------------------------------------------------------------------'
[All times are system time unless otherwise specified]
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+- July -+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-
Summer Odyssey Continues
focusing on the Medieval Era!
Thursday, July 19 7:00 pm Q & A Session in the OOC Auditorium
Saturday, July 21 Fields of Albion Medieval Faire
Thursday, July 26 7:00 pm Q & A Session in the OOC Auditorium
Saturday, July 28 Murder! Mystery! Intrigue!
& a Tinyplot in Wales
Sunday, July 29 ...Watch Welcome for details
+-+-+-+-+-+-+- August +-+-+-+-+-+-+-
Saturday, August 4 12:00 pm First Monthly Cesspool Lotto by
Seven Circles
August 17-19 LegendMEET Chicago!
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YOU are formally invited to:
LegendMEET Chicago!
Who: You, and everyone you want to bring with you!
When: August 17-August 19th
Where: Chicago, Illinois
What: A grand gathering of Legend players from far and wide, to meet online
friends in real life, and above all to have a great time!
Full details about the meet are available on the web at:
http://www.legendmud.org/Community/meet.html
We hope to see you there!
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o O | Wonder what folks are |
`\|||/ | doing over at LegendMUD?|
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/__| LEGENDITES: Information Regarding the People of Our World |__\
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A Collision of Contexts
As the blue-eyed gentleman entered, the nun grew alert. Defensively she said,
"Bon jour, monsieur", and he returned her greeting politely, respecting the
peace of the establishment that happened to be the site of their encounter.
"Do you seek redemption?" she asked with a wink in one dark eye. Evidently
she was not without humor.
"Well, no, I can't say I do," Lord Marcel replied smoothly. "I make a habit
of knowing my enemies, that's all." Amused as well, Sister Trinity said, "It
was worth a try, non?" and he agreed, "Absolutely, sister, absolutely!"
"Lord of the Seven Circles," she said thoughtfully. "Indeed, I imagined
you... uuu... taller, perhaps?" And the gentleman chuckled, "I'm afraid six
feet will have to do, ma'am, at least in this incarnation -- and no horns or
tail, either. I take it you are one of the more, shall we say, serious of
church agents?" She nodded. "I am an agent of our Lord and Savior Jesus
Christ, monsieur, oui." While she casually glanced at his feet to check for
hooves, he said, "My form is disappointingly human, sister, it's far more
convenient that way."
She nodded. "So perhaps I should ask you this... What... err... What are you,
monsieur?" Lord Marcel shrugged his shoulders. "A servant of God,
ultimately," he said philosophically, causing Trinity to furrow her brows.
"But at least one who has a jolly better time about it than most," he added.
"A servant of God, monsieur?" the nun questioned dubiously. "Aren't we all?"
he replied, and she thought a moment, then said, "I suppose in His grand
plan, oui." He nodded, and stated, "The hard part about ineffability is
understanding the ulterior motives."
"I'm merely somewhat curious as to your preferred choice of enemies and so
forth," the gentleman asked smoothly. She thought briefly. "I prefer no
enemies, monsieur," she then said with a smile. "However, it would seem that
the Lord has presented me with some, and I do not question it." He returned
her smile. "A lady of some intelligence you are, a delightful surprise." She
mused, "Just sensibility, monsieur."
He shrugged again. "Most church agents consider sensibility to live at the
sharp end of a blade, ma'am." She chuckled as he continued, "We can go out
for lunch sometime and swap stories of the holy orders if you like. I believe
I have some experience on the subject."
"Indeed, monsieur, in terms of enemies," she said, elegantly dodging the
invitation. "I would say that mine enemies are those who are enemies to the
greater good, to humanity, to the Lord." Lord Marcel smiled and casually
said, "I have served the church and against it, 'good' is a delightfully
elastic label." Sister Trinity nodded. "I refer to 'good' here not as some
vague ideal."
"Do enlighten me, ma'am," the gentleman said curiously. "Good is a matter of
the soul," she said. "It is a matter of individuals. For instance, a knight
who cuts down heathens for no reason other than suspicion of being 'evil' is
just as evil as say, an undead creature. The 'greater good' refers to a
salvation for or extermination of those with evil intent."
Lord Marcel nodded. "You'll get no argument from me there, though I could
point you to church doctrine that claims that the death of a Muslim is like
unto a prayer to the Lord. I'm sorry if it disappoints you, sister, but I
have actually read the Bible." She shrugged. "Church doctrine, monsieur, also
says that I am not to do what I am doing." He chuckled. "True, true, retro
vade Satana, and all that."
"Tell me, why do you lead legions of demons?" she inquired. "Or those who
would worship them." He replied, "It's what I was appointed to do, sister,"
and she proceeded, "To what end?" She smiled as he parried, "Supposedly,
you're a lot closer to God than I am, why don't you ask him? Hell is, and it
has a number of officials. I don't ask why. I just enjoy my office."
"So it is just business for you, then?" she asked. "Most of it, yes," he
replied. There are obviously affairs of more personal interest to me as well.
I dare presume that you like some aspects of your office better than others
too." She shook her head, dark hair dancing. "I enjoy peace. Helping those in
need. Not battle or conflict. But sometimes there is no other way." He said,
"To each their own, I guess -- I rather fancy a quiet day with the children
myself."
Surprisingly, the nun frowned. "I used to enjoy those, monsieur, oui. My
children have gone to God. The will of the Lord, non?" She sighed.
"Mysterious, ineffable will?" he suggested. "Perhaps not so mysterious," she
replied. "These are hard times we live in, perhaps it is better they have
gone to somewhere better."
"Well, that's one way to look at it," Lord Marcel said fluently. "I'd prefer
to make the world around me worth staying in, of course, but then, I have
already seen Heaven and rejected it."
The look on Sister Trinity's face was utter astonishment. "I do not
understand," she said. "You have seen Heaven?" Lord Marcel nodded. "Yes,
indeed, I was created there along with the other angels," he replied. She
gasped. "And you rejected it?"
Lord Marcel attempted to hide a smile behind a well manicured hand. "Yes. I
did. It was beautiful beyond description, but the price was too high. If I
told you to kneel before me, to give up your soul to me, and to worship the
earth I walk on, would you do it?"
"Had you created me, given me unconditional love, and blessed me with all
else you had created, then yes," Trinity replied humbly. Lord Marcel
chuckled. "Maybe if that had been the case. But it wasn't. Until I have a
soul of my own and the right to redemption that the children of Eve have, God
can mind His affairs and I will mind mine."
"But why would you need redemption... Or a soul... You were a nigh-immortal,
non?" she asked, confused. And he said shortly, "What's eternity with no soul
to enjoy it? The human soul is creation, love, and the very essence of all
that God is. And it was denied us, His first-created angels. In more crude
terms, I quit when He decided to screw over the senior staff."
"You claim that He gave you no love?" she asked, and as he nodded, she said,
"But other angels stayed, non? Why did they stay?" Lord Marcel shrugged.
"The majority still have faith in the grand scheme, I suppose."
"And you do not?" He shook his head, auburn curls dancing. "If I did, I
wouldn't have followed Lucifer into Hell now, would I?" She nodded. "You
turned your back on your Creator, dismissed His plan for one of your own
design?" she inquired, and with a smooth smile he replied, "Guilty as
charged, sister."
"You realize, monsieur, that I cannot believe you," the nun stated. "That He
did not love you." Lord Marcel nodded. "That, dear sister, is why we are
called upon by various great libraries of doctrine to detest each other."
The dark woman nodded. "I would imagine so. So then, we each know the
other... I suppose I should be fair... Is there anything you care to know?"
He chuckled yet again. "Well, not in particular. I like to make the
acquaintance of people who supposedly want my head. No reason to make it
personal, I believe?"
She thought briefly and said, "I will have to give that a bit of thought."
He nodded. "Of course," he said as she stood and curtseyed. "In the by and
by, I will bid you adieu..." As he tipped his hat to her he said, "I will
see you around, sister."
Then, as she left through the door and he by magical means, the room fell
again silent.
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A letter from a cobbler
A cobbler's life is a busy one. Everyday it's up at dawn to feed the
bamblesteed and down to the Hamblindoobledum to get my fresh bamblesteed
leather. The hide is thick and usually an obstacle to remove properly. Of
course the ooperdeewackle helps, but there is still a good amount of
strength required. Once you have your leather, it's just a matter of
pounding it accordingly, then sewing up the dipples so you can lace them
with wimple tails.
I had forgotten how much I missed my home as I wrote in my dabble one
night in the cold halls of the Hermetics. I fell short of words that night
to described my feelings towards the Hermetics. Instead I ended up dibbling
a picture of my sweet and beautiful wife Catherine standing outside the
Great Lapplestream bubblefalls that fell off the Dappleedge cliffs behind
our house. It was then that I realized I was better off without these Hermetics.
But return back to Hollumbapple--never! I once made shoes for a Hollum
family. They gave me 2 fuzwuffles instead of the regular price. The Hollums
were cold and heartless like that. Our bamblesteed were constantly a worry
as they stole them from are ooplestidges most frequently. We would suffer
from the lose of steed when it came time to make shoes for the Baps, the
Daps, the Saps and the Smiths. Somehow I felt I could do more good fighting
the Hollums but my efforts served no purpose. I had forgotten that the
Hollums do not exist in your world; I am still lost. I have tried numerous
times giving notice to the Mayor Woppledee Doppledee of Dappledeedum Village
but nothing...
Trunks Dumplesworth, a cobbler
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The Birth of Alissa
by her mother, Gruntessia
Grunt's Rotting Tree Trunk
Your eyes water and your hand goes to your nose reflexively as you get a
whiff of the inside of this rotting stump. Dessicated bits of bark rain down
on you whenever you brush against the sides of the trunk, and your feet
squish nastily in a puddle of water - and perhaps other things - that covers
the floor. Powdery lichen carpets the ceiling, its dim glow offering no real
illumination but casting a sickly pallor over everything and everyone
within.
[Chat] Grunt: where me heal person?
Gruntessia held on to Grunt's hand as the pain began, screaming and exhaling
with great effort. Her husband looked distressed and helpless as he paced
back and forth within arm's reach. Meanwhile, Northstar instructed the
laboring woman in the ways of pain control: 'Breathe slowly, in through your
nose, out through your mouth.' Between attempts to do just that, Gruntessia
asked Grunt to find the doctor quick.
[Chat] Gruntessia: Chunk where are you????
As the contracted released its grip on her flesh Gruntessia took Grunt's
hand. 'Ok, that one passed,' she told him. Lachdanan looked kind of faint
and said, 'I think I'm too young to watch this...' Helpfully, Xena, Warrior
Princess covered his eyes with her hands. 'I'll let you know when it's
over,' she said.
A voice was heard, echoing through the forests and over the oceans, sounding
for all the world like an announcement over loudspeakers. 'Doctor Chunk,
please report to the emergency room STAT! The baby is coming.'
Northstar freshened Gruntessia's washcloth while Lachdanan reloaded his gun,
to the distress of the people present. 'No shoot baby,' Grunt said quickly,
but Lachdanan assured him that he had no such intent and the father-to-be
resumed his pacing.
[Chat] Gruntessia: Chunk hurry the pains are getting worse!
A thin veil of hanging moss opened to admit the village idiot Aaaaaarrgh
while Gruntessia squeezed Grunt's hand hard. She inhaled, panted, and
exhaled with great effort as another contraction began.
The loudspeaker blared again. 'Doctor Chunk, please report to the emergency
room STAT! The baby will be here by the time you arrive!'
'Baby make come,' Grunt told Aaaaaarrgh who scratched his head in puzzlement
at the sight of the heavily panting Gruntessia. 'How baby come, anyway?'
Grunt pondered. 'How baby got out belly? Throw up?' Northstar glanced at
Grunt and said, 'Lower.' Aaaaaarrgh said, 'Mmf?', puzzled, and Northstar
pointed at the woman in labor. 'What that?' the village idiot inquired.
'Poopoo?' Grunt said, unsure of the topic. Northstar smirked, 'Watch, and
you'll see.' Then she glanced at Xena and said, 'You may be required to
babysit.' Xena shrugged. 'I'm not sure they would want me to babysit RIGHT
after the child is born.'
While Lachdanan kept his eyes on the safety of the wall Grunt asked, 'Is
going be yucky?' Northstar replied, 'It'll be -- interesting.'
[Chat]: Grunt paces back and forth, nervously glancing over at Gruntessia.
Gruntessia breathed hard as beads of sweat broke out on her forehead.
'Breathe...' Northstar reminded her, 'and pant. Like a wolfhound in Tara.
Just no snarfing.' Grunt panted along with his wife, while Aaaaaarrgh said,
'Muf?'
'Muf?' Xena echoed. 'How me pant help?' Grunt asked, and got the answer,
'Reminds her how to do it?' Aaaaaarrgh looked more puzzled than usual, which
is to say, quite a lot. Suddenly Gruntessia grimaced and yelled, 'This is
all your fault!' at her husband who looked very disturbed and confused at
the same time. Hanging his head he slowly told her, 'Me sorry. Me no mean
do.'
'Yes, you did!' Gruntessia snapped, but he shook his head. 'Just no know
what you do,' Aaaaaarrgh said. Grunt said, 'Me no know even how me do it in
you no me.' Gruntessia looked pained. Just then, a beautiful French girl
cartwheeled in from the north. Said she, 'Bonjour.' Then she declared:
'Doctor in the house!'
Gruntessia panted again, exhaling with great effort. Northstar removed her
washcloth, dampened it and replaced it on her forehead. The beautiful French
girl inquired as to whether the water had broke yet and was told that
indeed, it had not. 'Then I'm in time!' she declared. Gruntessia cast a
worried glance about, wondering where Chunk might be. 'Her want tikle,'
Aaaaaarrgh suggested to Grunt.
'Here comes another one,' Gruntessia panted, pain evident in her voice.
Grunt said, 'Me no understand.' Aaaaaarrgh chorused, 'Also no get. Them
weird.' At this moment Lady Kyla glided into the tree trunk, while
Gruntessia continued her breathing and exhaling. 'Her get baby in belly but
no eat,' Grunt pondered. 'Me have toy for baby too.' His friend Aaaaaarrgh
told him, 'Muf?'
The beautiful French girl pulled a cloth bandage from a makeup bag and
swathed it in warm water, then applied the bandage to Gruntessia's forehead.
The birthing woman smiled weakly at Grunt. 'Wat me get mutton for make
strong?' he offered, but she only took his hand and held it while her body
shuddered in the grip of another contraction. Lady Kyla stroked her hair.
'The pains are getting stronger,' Gruntessia finally gasped as the beads of
sweat on her brow began to run together, forming small rivulets which
streamed down her temples.
[Chat]: Gruntessia screams loudly!
[Chat] Gruntessia: Chunk HURRY!
[Chat] Chunk: waaaait!
A beautiful French girl calmly took Gruntessia's hand in her own, measuring
her pulse between contractions. Gruntessia took a deep breath, as Grunt
looked at her nervously. 'Hold Grunt's hand when you bear down....'
Northstar said to Gruntessia.
Aaaaaarrgh, clueless as usual, asked Kyla, 'You know what this? You know
what happen?' Looking up from the bed of pain, his wife said, 'What, love?
Gruntie and Gruntessia are having a baby, love.'
Finally, a fat Jewish boy in a loud Hawaiian shirt arrived. 'Think you
walked slow enough?' Northstar asked him while he pulled The Complete Guide
to Natural Childbirth out from his satchel. 'I had to take over for you!'
the beautiful French girl told him.
Gruntessia began to shiver uncontrollably as her water broke, making a mess
on the ground. She took a deep breath, turning everyone's attention away
from Chunk and back to group breathing. 'We all have baby?' Grunt wondered
aloud, but no one heard him as Gruntessia's scream split the air. 'What me
do,' he muttered. 'What me do.'
'How far along is she?' Chunk asked, glancing around the room at the
assembly. Northstar said, 'Close.' 'My water just broke,' Gruntessia said,
her face drawn with pain. 'Just relax and concentrate on breathing,' Chunk
told her while washing his hands in the slow, studied fashion of medical
personnel. 'No know how baby look when come out,' Grunt said. 'It will look
like Grunt,' the French girl reassured him.
'You hate me?' Grunt said, clueless as usual, to Gruntessia, who screamed
again. She took a deep breath and said, 'I don't hate you, I love you.'
Aaaaarrgh looked completely boggled, and Grunt could only nod. 'Until the
next pain anyhow,' Northstar said to Grunt. At his encouragement, Gruntessia
lay back and tried her best to relax for Chunk. She took a deep breath, and
Grunt did his best to comfort her. Gruntessia asked, 'Can you see the
baby's head?' Chunk blinked, and slowly examined her. Then he blinked again.
Kyla said lovingly to Aaaaarrgh, 'I sure am glad we adopted Stasis instead
of me having to go through all of this, love...'
'Uh, nothing, it's fine,' Chunk said, looking very alone, to Gruntessia. She
bore down on Grunt's hand as she felt another pain coming on. Grunt said
slowly to her, 'But baby be bad because make smash on you.' Gruntessia
panted, exhaling with great effort. 'The baby isn't bad,' she told Grunt,
then asked of Chunk, 'Can you see the head?'
'But him hurt you,' Grunt said to Gruntessia. A beautiful French girl said
playfully to Grunt, 'This is normal for a woman to experience at birth.'
Gruntessia added, 'It is ok,' between contractions.
'I dont think that is the head,' Chunk said. With great effort, she yelled,
'What do you mean, NOT THE HEAD!' Chunk sat down on the ground. 'It just
looks like flesh?' he said. Agonized she snapped, 'What do you think the
head looks like!' Chunk backed off. 'Relax, it will be ok, I just never seen
this before.' Xena sincerely told him, 'You better not mess this up, boy,
I'll have to hurt you.'
Gruntessia bore down on Grunt's hand again as the pain worsened, then panted
and exhaled with great effort. Her screams startled birds and beasts for a
mile's radius. 'I can feel it's getting close,' she told Chunk between
gasps. 'Ok, give me a good push,' Chunk said. 'You are doing great, dear,'
Kyla reassured her.
Gruntessia pushed with all her strength, screaming, panting, exhaling,
panting, and pushing again. 'Me need get glue for baby?' Grunt asked
nervously. Kyla reassured him that the baby would be fine while Chunk made a
small cut on Gruntessia. 'Me much confused,' Grunt told Aaaaaarrgh. Another
scream split the air, and Aaaaaarrgh said, 'Always push baby through them
keyhole?'
Gruntessia breathed as she could best while Chunk instructed her to push,
push, push, and she did -- screamed, pushed, panted, screamed, pushed,
panted. 'Breathe in and pant with her, show support,' Northstar said. 'Are
you watching?' she added to Grunt. 'You will start to see the baby soon.'
Aaaaaarrgh peered curiously at Gruntessia.
'Need to make a little bit bigger cut,' Chunk giggled as his scalpel cut
into Gruntessia's tender flesh. Suddenly there was quite a lot of blood.
Lachdanan helpfully offered Chunk a bandage. 'Ow,' Aaaaaarrgh said. Chunk
continued, giddy with glee, 'Aah, ok, I can see it now! Ok, here comes the
tough part.' At that, Grunt began to twitch.
Aaaaaarrgh slowly said, 'What see?' Gruntessia bore down on Grunt's hand and
pushed again. Chunk giggled, 'Something.' Grunt said to Aaaaaarrgh, 'It no
look right,' and got the response, 'Muhkaeh.' Kyla explained, 'He can see a
little bit of the baby.'
'Ok, give me a good push to get the head out,' Chunk said while for some
reason unknown Aaaaaarrgh waved a rattle decorated with a raindrop around.
'Me not know me think her break fun place,' Grunt said. Gruntessia pushed,
and pushed, and pushed, while Chunk positioned himself to catch the head.
Another scream split the air, and then Gruntessia cried, 'I can feel the
baby coming out!' Northstar nudged Grunt to watch as his wife panted and
pushed. Aaaaaarrgh pointed at them and asked his wife, 'What that?'
[Chat] Xena: i think this is the longest labor ever....longer then my two
anyway
Grunt winced as Gruntessia squeezed his hand too hard. The French girl told
Aaaaaarrgh, 'The baby!' Chunk giggled giddily, 'Um yeah, it's out a little.'
Puzzled, Aaaaaarrgh stated, 'Them look like one them squirrel Grak have chew
on.'
'Ok, one more big push and this should be all good,' Chunk said, and grabbed
the head, ready to pull. Gruntessia pushed with all her might, hard as she
could. Grunt paced the floor. 'Push as hard as you can!' Chunk cried, and
Gruntessia screamed. 'Be careful, boy,' Xena warned the doctor. Grunt kissed
Gruntessia tenderly, but amidst the screaming it is doubtful that she
noticed.
She screamed! And panted! 'Come on,' Chunk said giddily. 'Almost there.'
Scream! PUSH! And suddenly, Alissa was the one screaming!
Finally, Alissa could snuggle into her mother's arms to coo softly.
And that, my baby girl, is how you came into this world. We love you very
much.
Your Mommy and Da
Gruntessia and Grunt
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Observed:....
The Reception was the scene of unexpected events recently with a certain
hybrid vampire seeking penance from Preacher Kaine. What past indiscretions
she wished to atone for and why she felt it necessary wasn't made clear, but
it was apparent that this was the first such request made of the Preacher,
and he wasn't altogether clear on how to proceed.
What type of penance could ever be considered appropriate for an immortal
creature who must kill to live? The event itself was a messy, anticlimactic
affair, with the vampire understandably skittish around the Preacher's
crucifixes and strong garlic breath (ick!), and the Preacher looking worried
by the fact that he was bleeding heavily throughout the procedure. More
intriguing was the fact that the vampire knew her Hail Mary's while the
Preacher did not.
Afterwards he revealed that he was only recent to the cloth, and his
conversion in itself was a form of forced penance. An event that raised many
questions and answered few, will we find out more? Who knows?
Source: given to us only as "a silent observer"
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Angel of Death
Already early in life Witte was trying to preserve life in all its forms.
This in itself caused him trouble in school. The other children teased him,
and he had problems making friends. He did manage to make it through school,
though, finding strength in his Bible and his belief in God. He immediately
decided upon medical school, wanting to become a doctor so he could save
lives.
Just as Witte finished medical school the War to End All Wars began, and he
went into the service. No matter how bad things looked, he always believed
that all would turn out well in the end. He was occasionally asked to wipe
that smile off his face, seeing as the trenches offered no reason for joy.
Then he would reply, simply, "Good, wit oos! We wen the war!".
One night, while he got a bit of well deserved rest under the luminescent
moon, Witte heard an angelic voice speaking. "Go out there!" It said to him.
"Kill, so that the evil in people will die, letting them enjoy life!" He
nodded, grabbed a gun from the rack, and ran out into the dead man's land
screaming, equipped only with his clothes, surgical gloves, and entirely too
little ammunition.
As you can probably imagine, his turned out to be a very short assault.
As Witte's soul lifted from his lead-filled corpse and ascended to Heaven he
smiled at the world beneath, hoping that the would be allowed to enter
Paradise. After all, he had done what the angel had said to. But as the
clouds grew thinner and the sky darker, he found no one and nothing. Roaming
worriedly for a while he finally saw the angel smiling at him. She put a
special papal indulgence in his hand and said, "Witte, I trust you know what
this is for."
He nodded. And smiled.
If you look up into the moonlight on a clear night you may see him smiling
as he flies across, in search of evil people to kill and thus release to
Heaven once more where they may acquire clean, untarnished souls and know
peace. If he pauses to speak to you, you may ask him how the angel told him
to join the Seven Circles; not to help them, but to convert them. He will
tell you, maybe, how patient he has to be with that task, and how some of
them will not be saved. And how he will have to decide whom to simply slay
so that they may know peace.
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Archaon - A biography
Archaon is much more complex then first meets the eye, and even when you
become well acquainted. You see, Archaon is not his real name, he is actually
Oskar Dunmessei of Kleinstadt. He grew up there and by the age of 12 he was
introduced into the local brotherhood. By the age of 15 he was well known and
respected as a preacher of the gospel, and he started his long journey to
monkhood and was renamed Brother Dunmessei. This is where we met.
During the next few years he travelled far and wide preaching the Lord's
name, and soon became a local hero as he could worm his way out of any
conflict just with his mouth. When he was 20, he began learning the way of
the staff. As he figured: 'I carry a crucifix where ever I go, and it just so
happens to be on the end of a stick, so why not learn how to defend myself
with it?' Within a few weeks he soon got the basics down pat, and only used
them when he got caught in the middle of something, and none would listen to
reason.
Three weeks after his 21st birthday, the accident happened. We were making
our way to St Dennis Abbey, when he fell off his horse (nothing spectacular
in that), naturally I (his aide), helped him up. He remounted and continued
on the journey. A couple of days later we were attacked by bandits and the
horse bolted, leaving both him and me on the ground. He tried to reason with
them, but before he could a rather large man with a big heavy club smacked
him on the head, and knocked him out. Upon realising that he was a monk they
gave us their apologies, and left us on our way.
Realising that I could not help him, nor leave him, I started dragging him to
the nearest town in search of help. Coincidentally the most famous healer in
the land had dropped by in search of a inn. She mixed a few potions and gave
them to him to drink, and immediately the pain was gone and he felt renewed
and refreshed. Unfortunately she could not brew a potion to overcome
amnesia. That is when he decided that he should be known as 'Archaon'. He
couldn't think of anything else.
Realising that he already was competent with a staff, he decided to continue
along that line of weaponry. He even found ways to travel through time, and he
came back with all sorts of weird and wonderful contraptions. Since he lost
his memory, he did not realise that he was a monk.
He sometimes picks fights - but still prefers to avoid them - and has
discontinued preaching. Even though he is a completely different person, he
still finds a sense of worthwhile in helping those not as fortunate and as
wealthy as he. To fund these adventures he often raids churches -- he has
found that the pardoners usually horde a fair amount of wealth.
Some say that he has gone mad. Actually I think that I would have to agree
with them, I mean who would go around beeping complete strangers on the
nose?
Although he has lost all sense of who he was or where he came from, he often
wanders aimlessly into places he used to visit regularly. I would not say
that this new man is a good man - in the sense that he used to be - but I
also would not say that he is a bad one either.
Brother Johan Harbromm - Brother Dunmessei's trusted aide
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