Volume Nine Issue Thirty-Nine
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
.............._______
............./ / THE LEGENDARY TIMES
............/ / http://www.legendmud.org/
.........../ /.....______.._____.....______.._____.......____
........../ /...../ /./ \.../ /./ \...../ \
........./ /...../ ___/./ ____/../ ___/./ __ \.../ /\ \
......../ /...../ /_.../ /....../ /_.../ /..\ >./ /./ /
......./ /...../ __/../ /____../ __/../ /.../ /./ /./ /
....../ /_____/__/__../ \_\ /./ /__../ /.../ /./ /_/ /
...../ / /./ /./ /./ /.../ /./ /
..../ /_/..\______/./_____/./__/.../__/./_______/ MUD
.../________________/ running on mud.legendmud.org 9999
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
VOLUME NINE, NUMBER THIRTY-NINE October 7, 2002
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
TABLE OF CONTENTS
The Editor's Note
NEWS, REPORTS, UPDATES
Calendar of Events
Recent Updates
Successfully Archiving Your Character
LEGENDITES
A Life and a Lie
A Past Revisited
The Melancholy Warrioress
Clan News
Clan Smashum Celebrates Two Years
Intempesta Nox Celebrates Three Years
The PK Front
Silent Musings - Choices
The Death of the Mystic - Part II
Journal Entry for Hedge Farwood for Sept 27th
Personal Struggles
A few words on Kabbalah, by Azenis.
Dreamin' Again?
The Banana Man
If Not a Guard, at Least a Guardian
Just a Little PK Humor
___ ___
\ |-----------------------------------------------------------------| /
/__| The Editor's Note |__\
'-----------------------------------------------------------------'
Yup, we all know the evils that are possible when we set a drink down
beside our computers and keyboards. So why is it, when we've had the
unthinkable happen to us -- the drink gets knocked over onto the keyboard
and zzzzzt! -- we go and do the same thing again? In the end, paying $120
for a bottle of water is kind of expensive. You'd think by now I'd have
learned this lesson several times over.
Apologies to those of you who were waiting for this issue to get out to
get your new descriptions, and everyone else who was just waiting for it
to come out. I have family coming to visit next weekend, but hopefully
I can have that issue out before they arrive on Saturday.
Have a great week!
-Kaige
___ ___
\ |-----------------------------------------------------------------| /
/__| LegendMUD Calendar of Events |__\
'-----------------------------------------------------------------'
[All times are system time unless otherwise specified]
OCTOBER
Su Mo Tu We Th Fr Sa
1 2 3 4 5
6 7 8 9 10 11 12
13 14 15 16 17 18 19
20 21 22 23 24 25 26
27 28 29 30 31
Thursday, October 10th 7:00 pm Q & A in the OOC Auditorium
Thursday, October 17th 7:00 pm Q & A in the OOC Auditorium
Thursday, October 24th 7:00 pm Q & A in the OOC Auditorium
Thursday, October 31st Annual Halloween Elf Massacre
___ ___
\ |-----------------------------------------------------------------| /
/__| Recent Updates |__\
'-----------------------------------------------------------------'
/\ CODE UPDATES
/ \
/ \ There was no code update this past Friday.
/_ _\
| |
| | HELP FILE UPDATES
| |
|__| There were no help file updates last week.
/\
/ \
/ \ AREA UPDATES
/_ _\
| | If you want to suggest specific improvements or new additions
| | to existing areas please don't hesitate to submit them with
| | the idea/bug/typo commands or drop mudmail to the builder
|__| currently responsible for the area (use AREAINFO to find out!)
/\
/ \ ANASAZI AMERICA
/ \ Spider Grandmother should be react correctly unless she
/_ _\ has been killed recently.
| | THE ALHAMBRA
| | Some small changes/additions to the vendor/Pedro. Various
| | bugs and typos fixed.
|__| ARABIAN NIGHTS
/\ Fixed a problem where some new characters were getting
/ \ dex/con weapons reversed.
/ \ SHERWOOD
/_ _\ You can sacrifice rabbits without a weapon. Squires no
| | longer greet peasants. Richard and Thomas's acts cleaned
| | up a little. Smith should be better at repairing and
| | hence a bit tougher to fight.
|__| VICEROYAL PERU
/\ Murderer is a bit higher level. Quest item is available
/ \ again. Various bugs and typos fixed.
/ \ ANCIENT GREECE, CELTIC IRELAND, and TUDOR ENGLAND
/_ _\ Various bugs and typos fixed.
| |
| |
| | In Progress Area Updates
|__|
/\ This section is intended to let everyone know what builders
/ \ are working on behind the scenes. It is not a perfect record
/ \ of progress as all builders will not make updates every week.
/_ _\ Players badgering builders about progress or a perceived lack
| | thereof will be flogged. Remember, the longer spent answering
| | questions, the longer the project takes to complete.
| |
|__| No in progress areas had commits made this week.
___ ___
\ |------------------------------------------------------------------| /
/__| Successfully Archiving Your Character and Avoiding the Purges |__\
'------------------------------------------------------------------'
The past month or so, I've seen a crazy number of unpurge requests. A lot
of these people also told me that they were sure they archived the
character. So, I tried to archive one of my morts to see what could be
happening, and these are the possibilities I came up with:
When you unarchive a character, you are asked to enter both the name and
password with only a space between (for example, 'CharName Charpassword').
However, when you archive a character, it will only require you to enter
your password (for example, 'Charpassword').
When you are archiving, and you enter just the password, you archive the
character successfully and you are brought back to the main menu. When you
try to archive, but put the Character Name and the password, you'll see
'Re-enter your password to confirm archival: Wrong password.', and it will
bring you back to the main menu.
If your character or their clan has been active in pkill recently, make
sure you no longer have a timer set on the character before archiving it.
You may not archive characters that have a timer or belong to a clan that
has an active timer. If this is the case, you will be told how many ticks
are left and that 'Your character has NOT been archived.'
Be very careful to read above the main menu to make sure you see the
message: 'Your character has been archived.' or else it will get purged.
-Haley
___ ___
\ |------------------------------------------------------------------| /
/__| LEGENDITES: Information Regarding the People of Our World |__\
'------------------------------------------------------------------'
Lilac has reached 100 million experience!
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
A Life and a Lie
I am tired of living this lie. Imagine me, Mordok
Anastasio, walking around impersonating a common
acolyte. What torture it has been. What torture I will
bring. I get ahead of myself.
It started out as a simple idea. Gather the wisest and
most learned mages together to protect our village from
the evil that haunted us. If we could ward against the
evil maybe we could awaken and not find another dead,
empty corpse amongst us. But alas, our simple spells
were no match for the lifeless demon that came as we
slept. As a last line of defense, the wizards I had
collected suggested that we try to raise our dead to
help defend the village.
It matters not that I agreed in order to save the only
home I had ever known. It matters not that we learned
magics that had been hidden from the light for ages. It
matters only that when we succeeded in our unholy
endeavor the people accused us of being the night
killer and came to destroy us. While we damned our own
souls to save them, they came with fire and pitchfork
to send us to meet the dark one. Ah, he is a wicked
one, no?
It was only through my new found black arts that I was
able to escape the burning of our compound. As I hid my
burnt and broken body from the people I was trying to
save, I heard them cheering our demise, torturing my
friends, and I hated them. As I healed, I began to prey
on the villagers. Using them to further my research I
discovered many ways to derive power from the deaths of
others. I also found that I derived much pleasure in
watching the deaths of my enemies.
Fearing that news of our experiments had gone before
me, I began traveling in the guise of a lowly acolyte.
Now that my cover has served me long enough to exact
revenge upon the people I once loved, and to gain
enough power to come out of hiding, I will no longer
travel as an acolyte of darkness but proudly walk as
the last surviving member of a once hated cult. I will
no longer be seen as a disciple of darkness but as a
survivor of a slaughter keeping my eyes peeled for my
hunters. I am ready when they come. I am eager to see
them.
Mordok Anastasio.
Mordok will no longer be known as:
Short: a disciple of darkness
Long: An acolyte of darkness looks around for virgins to sacrifice.
but shall be recognized as:
Short: a survivor of a massacre
Long: The only survivor of a slaughtered cult is watching for his hunters.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
A Past Revisited
Since the disapppearance of Sensei Egami and Sir
Sundance, I don't have the motivation anymore to bear
the golden suit of the Gemini Knight.
I then decided to drop weapons and assume the real form
that was once mine.
I also felt the old blood running in my veins again. Not
sure I can bear with this evil self for long.
- Lady Saga Yashinden.
Saga will no longer be known as:
Short: the Gemini Gold Saint
Long: Cape floating in the wind, a gold Saint evaluates and smiles.
but shall be recognized as:
Short : a silver-cloaked malicious crone.
Long : An ancient bard cloaked in runes smiles at you with a malicious grin.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The Melancholy Warrioress
Since the passing of FireHorse the mighty warrioress of
the Awooga has not been her usual self. She is still a
quiet woman who can handle herself in a fight, but
there's a melancholy settled in her eyes that never
seems to go very far.
When you see her, Jen-Jen will no longer appear as:
Long: A tall, no-nonsense warrioress stands here observing you quietly.
But instead as:
Short: the warrioress of the Awooga
Long: Eyes softened by melancholy, a no-nonsense warrioress quietly
observes you.
___ ___
\ |--------------------------------------------------------| /
/__| Clan News |__\
'--------------------------------------------------------'
As of October 4th, The School of Hard Knocks Clan now PK clan.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Clan Smashum Celebrates Two Years
On October 5th, Clan Smashum celebrated their 2nd anniversary of forming
under the fre-form clan system.
O-tay god people make say me should make write
about Smashum 2nd B-day. So me make do that
Smashum be kinda quite lately but we still be round
we always make look for new good RPers all are welcome
we no do PK stuffs unless it for RP
we all just try make fun and do smash an stuffs
me clever make burn out lately so any who
make have good RP ideas me would very much like
make talk with an you make join Smashum
no sure yet if Smashum goin have B-day thingie or no
if do will make post on news thingie
Smashum much need new blood so any and all like make join
please let know
thank for time
Grunt "the ox" GM Smahsum
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Intempesta Nox Celebrates Three Years
On October 10th, Intempest Nox will be celebrating their 3rd anniversary
of forming under the fre-form clan system.
When you see the gleam of a feral red eye in the darkness...
When you hear the snap of long teeth closing on bone...
When you feel a cold breath on the back of your neck...
You will know, we are there.
Intempesta Nox was founded three years ago by the vampiress
Drusilla, as a community for the Children of the Night, that we
may find friendship, blood, and protection. Sadly, our founder
now gathers cobwebs in her coffin, hidden deep in the crypt
under our church.
Together, we have faced many hardships: a beloved villa razed,
changes in leadership, attempted subversion, even holy spirits
haunting our church. But we have only emerged stronger for it.
There is no light bright enough to destroy the shadows, so long
as we shelter in the velvet darkness of each other's cloaks.
Intempesta Nox is currently recruiting. If you are a Child of the Night (or
wish to be), contact Mistress Darla.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
There are currently 14 RP clans and 9 PK clans. This leaves open slots for
nine (9) more clans to form. For more information, read HELP CLAN and see
the clan information list via the CLANS command while logged into the
game. For a basic handbook and reference guide for players interested in
starting and running a clan, we recommend that before you even type FORM,
you visit: http://www.legendmud.org/Reference/gm.html.
___ ___
\ |--------------------------------------------------------| /
/__| The PK Front |__\
'--------------------------------------------------------'
Last week 84% of the Infernals were involved in one pk skirmish or
another and one-half of the Grendels were out in the midst of the
action. The Knights and Secretives were also fairly active this past
week. The School of Hard Knocks, Hermetics, IRA, Syndicate and the
Coven only sent a couple of representatives out in the action.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
There were 72 pkill-related deaths involving 55 different characters in
the last week. Of those 55 characters, 32 of them were accept all at the
time. So come on, let's get YOUR name up in lights! We can't report on it
if you don't tell us about it!
If you have you witnessed or committed any glorious or nefarious deeds,
send a short report to us at the LT. If you are looking for a fight,
recruiting, or anything else related to PK (not necessarily PK Clan
related), advertise here with us! It's free AND you'll get a token! Be a
celebrity, the envy of all your friends! Tick off your enemies or just
tell your side of the story! The possibilities are endless -- act today!!
_______________________
/ \
o O | Wonder what folks are |
`\|||/ | doing over at LegendMUD?|
(o o) \_______________________/
ooO_(_)_Ooo________________________________________________________________
_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|___
__|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|
Silent Musings - Choices
It must be the weather that's affecting me - usually drinking ale lifts my
spirits and makes me relax after a hard day's work. Tonight it is
different. My thoughts are as cloudy and disordered as the raging storm
outside Erich's fine establishment (He doesn't water his ale and the meat
he serves is decent).
Tonight my thoughts circle around choices I have made and choices I will
have to make soon. Most of all, I contemplate the biggest decision in my
life, the choice I made a few years ago - when I chose to become a Knight,
knowing well that my family and kin would outcast and reject me. I admit I
sometimes miss my father Bjarni's voice, the company of Alfdis and Thore,
sparring with my cousin Sigrid and the pure smell of the northern sea. How
could I not miss it? The only one who does not ignore me completely is
Sigrid, even if no meeting between us is free of scorn - I am constantly
reminded of the shame I have caused my family.
I do not regret that choice. I wish they would understand that there is
not much difference between following the Knight's Code and Viking society.
- Honor is essential to both lifestyles. And, if nothing else, the fact
that Thor and Odin still graces many of my battles with their blessings
should indicate that I have not strayed as much from the path as they
would think.
It is rare to find me as gloomy as I am tonight. I wonder what set it off?
Perhaps witnessing Robar being less tactful than I have come to expect of
him has affected me more than I thought it could? Perhaps it is because I
do not feel that my squires need my advice much. Have I, at 25 summers,
become like an old Knight that the young disregard? Am I too stern in my
training?
I also find myself thinking back on my time with Sir Witold, the Knight
who trained me and was my lover for a time. I have not heard from or of
him in two years - I suppose it indicates that he has met an untimely
death. There are days where I miss his easy smile and his flustered
attempts to hide his affection for me.
Most of all I find myself thinking about my recent choice of companion. He
is nothing like the others I have been involved with. Indeed, normally I
would dismiss his type as being too narrow-chested for my taste (and in
this particular case, too well-mannered in speech. And he doesn't like
proper dark ale). But I cannot deny that I feel a growing affection for
him, even though I know that he is sly, relying more on his wits than his
sword, and most definitely, someone I do consider an enemy. I have no wish
to dishonor myself or my clan by this ... alliance? I will have to chose a
course of action soon.
I know that if I must, I will put the Knighthood before all else, but I
cannot say that it would not grieve me. I hope I will be allowed to enjoy
his company a little while yet.
It is time to retire. Tomorrow is another day, hopefully with less foul
weather, and I will seek out Squire Vint and Squire Stygian both and force
some training down their throats!
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The Death of the Mystic - Part II
Jacelis walked into the lonely inn. He looked around the large room, there
was an overly large burly man staring at him. Jacelis hated it when people
stared at him. He let a low growl out and sat on a stool near the
bartender. Jacelis waved toward the bartender. The bartender grunted and
strode toward Jacelis, 'What ye need stranger?' the bartender said overly
tired.
'Get me an ale. And one for the man in the corner.' He said grumpily. The
bartender picked up two large brown mugs as he walked to the ale barrel.
He filled the two mugs gingerly. He bounded over to Jacelis, set the ale
in front of him. Jacelis threw the bartender 100 gold pieces. The
bartender stood wide eyed, no one had ever threw him that much money.
'That should pay for ye best room too right?' Jacelis said questioningly.
The bartender nodded and called for a small wench that had been being
abused by some local peasants. She slowly made her way over to the bar.
The bartender pointed to the man in the corner and gave her the full mug
of ale. She made her way over to the man. She gave him the ale and pointed
at Jacelis. The man growled and slammed the mug on the table shattering
it, ale going everywhere.
Jacelis laughed insanely. Jacelis threw the bartender another thousand
gold coins, 'For the damage that is about to be done.' Jacelis growled
insanely. The bartender almost fell to the ground, stunned. Jacelis stood,
nodded to the bartender. The bartender smiled happily, he had started to
like Jacelis.
Jacelis strode toward the man sitting in the corner. 'You killed my
father, he was said to be a wise and mystical old man.' the man yelled.
Jacelis cackled with insane glee. The man drew a large black sword burning
with black fire. Jacelis spread his arms out and bowed as if giving up. He
gave out a low but comprehendible giggle. Then man backed of a little wary
of Jacelis. He let out a loud warcry, and rushed at Jacelis. Jacelis a
little annoyed by the warcry, cackled yet again.
The man began to close in on Jacelis. Jacelis looked up, jumped and
grabbed a high hanging chandalier. He lifted his feet, as the man flew by
below. Jacelis let go and fell toward the ground, while drawing his
fiendish dagger. He hit the ground and tumbled to his feet. He turned just
in time to parry a slash intended for his throat. Jacelis kicked the man
in the chest, still laughing uncontrollably. The man fell back stunned.
Jacelis strode toward him intending to dispatch him quickly. He felt a
sudden sharp pain in his back.
A local peasant stood behind him, a little worried. Jacelis growled with
anger. He turned and placed his dagger in the not very smart peasant's
throat. The local fell to the ground dead. Jacelis quickly grabbed the
dagger that had been placed in his back. The rest of the peasants seeing
their friend die growled with anger. Jacelis began to worry, the odds were
against him.
The man on the ground stood. Jacelis almost pouted, his back really hurt!
The bartender and wench drew short bronze swords, and came toward
Jacelis. This could be the end of him Jacelis thought. He suddenly felt
his wounds begin to heal and strength flow through his body. A small weary
witch smiled at him through the window. Jacelis came at the mob that was
about to assault him. Jacelis threw his body into a quick role on the
floor, and stood quickly placing both daggers into one peasant's throat.
The peasant also fell silent. Jacelis brought up his foot booting another
in the face while elbowing yet another in the face. The man that had first
tried to assault Jacelis cam in with a massive flurry of attacks making
himself fall to the ground. Jacelis stomped on his head, crushing it.
Jacelis let out his warcry, 'You all will die!!!!!'
Jacelis twirled, arms extended slicing four of the peasant's throats. All
that was left was the wench and the bartender.
Jacelis strode toward the wench intending to dispatch her quickly. She
eeked in distress and fled.
The bartender smiled, 'You have gotten good, son.' he said honestly.
Jacelis stopped, wondering why this man called him son.
'Yes, you are my son, Jacelis, heir to the throne of Melnorne.'
Jacelis almost fell back, 'You will die... My, my, my father!' Jacelis
stuttered. He ran at his father, jumped and did a backflip into a round
kick. The kick hit the bartender in the chest, crushing his bones into
his heart. Jacelis threw his head back and cackled with insane glee.
He walked over to the bar and sat on the stool he had been on before. He
drank the ale out of the large brown mug, shrugged and collected the gold
off all the corpses.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Journal Entry for Hedge Farwood for Sept 27th
Our quiet little cabin was running low on provisions. The weather was fair
and I hadn't been to town in over a week, so I had few complaints about
making the trek. I had doubted that I would see any familiar faces, but I
was proven wrong.
A few hours later, my backpack was nearly full, and I was picking out a
decent bottle of wine, when I bumped into MoiraGwyn and her adopted son
Rillifane. Rillifane is an interesting child, he is a spitting image of
his father, my old friend, Lawrence. His blue-grey eyes show incredible
intelligence and amazing curiosity.
After saying my hellos to each of them and sneaking a piece of hard candy
to Rillifane, I joked to MoiraGwyn about how she ever got her shopping
done with such a handful. She laughed, but remarked it did get rather
trying.
'How about I take him off your hands for the rest of the day? I need to
return these goods to our cabin, and it's a good day for a walk,' I
suggested.
'Are you sure?' MoiraGwyn asked.
'Absolutely. Would do him good to get out of this cramped city, get some
fresh air.' With that, we were off, goods stowed in my backpack and
Rillifane holding my hand, walking along side of me.
Most of the trip went by uneventfully, Rillifane seemed to be enjoying
himself: He'd skip ahead and chase Lucile, a sparrow I've cared for for
over a year now. She'd wait till he was close, then take to the air,
landing several paces down the path.
As we neared the cabin, all three of us noticed a beaver waddling across
the path enroute to a nearby stream. Apparently, Rillifane hadn't seen a
beaver before. Looking up at me after a brief time, he asked, 'Mrow?'
'Mrow,' as I've grown to understand, is Rill-speak for cat, after the
sound they make.
'Not a mrow, no. It's a beaver. See its teeth? He uses them to cut down
trees to build a house,' I tried to explain.
'Oof teeth?' he asked. 'Oof' being Rill-speak for dog.
'Not quite oof teeth, but big like oof teeth, yes.' Rillifane nodded his
understanding. Then a huge smile crossed his little face.
'Daa oof!' he beamed, referring to Lawrence. I had heard him mention this
before. Apparently, because of Lawrence's sharp, not entirely human
teeth, Rillifane had classified his father as something with similarly
sharp teeth: A dog.
'No, dad is not an oof. Your dad has oof-teeth, but your Dad is like you
and me, a person.' I knew I wouldn't be able to convince him, but I'd give
it a try.
'Daa no oof? Oof eeth?' Rillifane's face was awash with confusion. 'Daa no
oof?'
'That's right, Daa no oof.' Maybe I COULD change his mind.
'Amma oof?' asked Rill, referring to his step-grandmother, Malicious, a
woman with teeth similar to Lawrence's.
'Amma is not an oof either, Amma is also a person!' Could I possibly
succeed in changing his mind twice in one day?
'Amma daa?' asked Rill. No, it didn't appear he was buying my argument. I
shook my head, and attempted to think of a new way to explain it. Taking
my silence as defeat, Rillifane's face once again brightened and he stated
again 'Daa oof,' with a happy nod. I'd have to try again another day.
After stopping at the cabin, we returned to the market where we had first
met, and MoiraGwyn was there, several bags in hand, waiting for us. I
pulled up short and kneeled down to whisper to Rillifane, 'Want to watch
after Lucy for me for a few days?'
His face becoming a huge smile, he asked 'Eet?' Which is Rill-speak for
sparrow (or bird, I'm not sure which.) I nodded to him, knowing that he'd
love to have her around for awhile.
Lucy hadn't been out of eyesight in the past year, but I knew he'd keep
her well fed, and I was planning on cleaning out the cabin and really
didn't need her around making more of a mess. She somehow understood
perfectly, for as Rill skipped over to join his mother, Lucy went with,
perched on his shoulder.
I waved to the three of them, then started the walk back to the cabin, a
walk that suddenly seemed a bit more lonely than it had before.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Personal Struggles
A piece of bloody torn paper from the personal diaries of Edric Wulf reads:
I've had enough! I threw down the gauntlets and cursed my silliness at being
so foolish as to believe that I could make a difference in the fight between
good and evil. Evil is everywhere, there numbers growing more and more each
day. I rarely see someone proclaiming good these days making war against the
minions of evil. The Raven, he has come to mock me. Yes he will mock me and
laugh at me and taunt me for what I do must seem folly to him. Worship me he
said and I will grant you wisdom, Worship the dark one! I'm so tired, I feel
as if the whole world laughs at me as I pass, grinning with their knowing
smiles. Servant of the light, Holy Warrior, bah, pathetic is all he is.
Worship me and I will make it all better the raven spoke again, but I'm sure
I did not see his beak move. What do I do, where do I turn. I have sought
shelter with various clans but none will have me, am I better off as a
servant of the dark. WORSHIP ME! Again this incessant calling throughout my
mind. Maybe they are all right; maybe I am wasting my time. I will seek
shelter with the raven, for at least he speaks with me. He seems to know me
so well, nice birdie, pretty birdie... Ouch!
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
A few words on Kabbalah, by Azenis.
The Kabbalah began as a body of esoteric teachings that were passed down
in an oral tradition, which is said to have dated back to pre-dynastic
Egypt. In fact, 'Kabbalah' is a Hebrew word meaning to receive inner
wisdom from 'mouth to ear' and for many centuries there were no formal
writings on the subject. There are several spellings of the word and each
has its own traditions. 'Kabbalah' or 'Kabala' refer to the original
Hebrew teachings; 'Cabala' refers to the Renaissance French Christian
tradition; and 'Qabala' or 'Qabalah' refer to Hermetic or magical
interpretations.
The first organized Kabbalistic school appeared in the first century A.D.
and centered around a concept in Jewish mysticism called the 'Merkabah,'
which means 'chariot.' This mystical chariot represented a secret method
of spiritual ascent in order to attain direct knowledge of the higher
worlds. Over the next few centuries, the Merkabah mystics evolved into the
'Heikhalot' school, whose name meant 'palace' and referred to the
spiritual levels of passage experienced by the Kabbalists. The mystical
teachings of the Kabbalah gradually became assimilated into Christianity,
and during the Middle Ages, were further adopted into alchemy and the
Hermetic tradition.
The main tool of the Kabbalist is a diagram known as the Tree of Life.
Developed by spiritual alchemists during the Middle Ages, the tree was
designed to make the complicated teachings easier to work with. The ten
sephiroth on the tree represent accumulations of archetypal energies (the
word 'sephirah' means 'vessel'). Vessels of energy lying across from one
another in the tree balance each other. There are 22 different Tarot paths
between the Sephiroth and each is symbolized by a card from the major
arcana. There are also three vertical arrangements (called 'pillars') in
the tree, as well various triads of energy relationships. Creation began
as a lightning bolt entering through the top of the tree, and our return
to the godhead is represented by the path of a serpent winding its way up
from the ground through branches of the tree.
P.S. This has nothing to do with Religion, it's just mystic science.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Dreamin' Again?
He watched her as she slept, her head resting on his arm. The sweet scent
of lavender floating through the air was almost as intoxicating as a good
ale. He leaned down and kissed her neck softly, making her shudder
slightly and a smile came to her lips. He wondered if she was awakening,
but she just laced her fingers with his and snuggled closer. He looked at
her lean body resting against his and marveled at how it seemed to fit so
perfectly against his own. He was smiling as he finally drifted off to
sleep.
His dreams lately had been a bit unusual. She still seemed to start as the
main focus of his dreams. He enjoyed these dreams. Often he would dream
about taking her to see the beautiful fjords, and to climb to the peak of
one of the fjells, and then look out over the beauty of the country. Then
his dream would have them traveling to a meadhall, eating roasted venison
and drinking strong, dark mead. This part of the dream never changed, but
more recently the dream had started to get darker, almost brooding. The
night would steadily get darker, until not even the moon's light could be
seen, then a great beast would begin assaulting the hall. Never did he see
the beast, but he knew he had left the mead hall to fight it, and there
was great cheering when he returned. Normally this type of heroism in his
dreams made him quite happy with the dream, but this one would leave him
feeling unfulfilled, and with a great pulling in his spirit, but pulling
toward what?
This night was no different than most lately, and he awoke in a sweat,
almost disoriented from the vividness of the dream. He looked down and saw
her still in his arms, though she was awake, and looking at him strangely.
'Are you ok?' she asked.
'Ja,' he sighed, 'just the dream again.'
'They seem to be coming more often.' she observed, and when he simply
nodded, she leaned up and kissed him gently and whispered, 'Jeg elsker
deg, my vakker fjell.' and laid her head back down on his arm and fell
back asleep.
He laid awake for a long time, partly because he was still pondering over
his dream, but more so he enjoyed watching her sleep. He kissed her neck
once more, and fell back into a fitful sleep, the dream changing slightly
once more.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The Banana Man
The banana merchant made his way to his small but rich looking stall.
The merchant was short with short blond hair, turquoise eyes, and broad
shoulders. He wielded a fiendish silver serrated longsword. The sword his
father gave him when he turned the right age. He wore a small banana yell
tunic, and large baggy black leather pants. On his feet were two worn
black leather boots he had bought in Melnorne, the city of his origin.
'My, my, I have not sold a single banana all day' he muttered to himself.
He reached for a leather satchel full of a green herb. He took out his
corncob pipe, filled it and began to smoke. After a while a tall dark
skinned man wielding a short bronze sword entered his hut.
'How may I help you sir?' the short little merchant asked.
'I shall want to buy a supply of you finest banana's' The dark skinned man
laughed. The merchant stood looking the newcomer up and down. He wore a
dark mask of black leather.
'Morhaman it's been so long my old friend.' the merchant yelled as he
tackled Morhaman.
How have you been lord Ridic?' He said happily.
Ridic looked worried. He looked at Morhaman, 'Oh how long it's been since
that day so long ago. I miss everyone, I just wish I could go see them
again.'
'Tell me the tale lord Ridic.' said Morhaman.
'It's has been so long since that year when we all went on the journey. I
shall tell you of it.' He paused for a minute pondering his words. He sat
on a small stool and waved for his friend to sit. He grabbed a large
quantity of bananas and sat them on a small table next to the stool. 'You
were very young when it happened, when my father Lord Moriah sent us into
peril.' He started...
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
If Not a Guard, at Least a Guardian
The High Chancellor of Carian Trag scowled at the paper in her hand while
shuffling through a few other papers scattered on her desk. So few
applicants. So much need. She scanned through the meager pile once again.
Hmm... This one might do.
Emrysia sighed heavily as she moved restlessly in her chair and rubbed her
lower back. Then she picked up her pen and began writing a message to the
applicant.
This whole Kaine fiasco had changed the atmosphere in the Castle. They had
always intended to hire more guards, knowing that as the kingdom grew, so
would the need for increased security. But, they had all felt so safe
inside the thick castle walls they had just never gotten around to it. The
thought that someone could just walk in and take anything they wanted, or
worse, anyone they wanted, caused Lady Emrysia to shudder.
Laying down her pen, Emrysia read over her letter. Yes, that would do
nicely. Sorting through the application letters once more, she came across
one she failed to recognize. Who was this person? The letter seemed to
indicate a fair knowledge of Carian Trag personnel and routines. Trying to
match the name with a face in her mind, she remembered the man she had
seen hanging about the castle lately. Could this be him? And hadn't there
been something familiar about the cloaked figure that had shadowed her and
MoiraGwyn on their last trip to town together? She hadn't said anything to
MoiraGwyn about it, as she didn't want to alarm her, but the occurrence had
served to remind her of the urgency of hiring guards for the kingdom. She
would have to urge MoiraGwyn to hold the tournament for Queen's Champion
soon as well. The more security around the better.
Lady Emrysia picked up her pen once again, deciding much more definitive
action was needed. She carefully opened a scroll and began writing.
________________________________________________
/\ \
| | |
| | Dearest Robar, |
\_| |
| I find myself in need of a favour from you, |
| my love. You see, I am worried about |
| MoiraGwyn. She has been withdrawn and quiet |
| lately. As well, I have noticed a strange |
| man lurking about the castle, even seeming |
| to follow us as we go about our business. |
| |
| I know there is little love lost between |
| you and MoiraGwyn, but, I am asking you to |
| do this for me. Would you please keep watch |
| over her? I feel she is truly a damsel in |
| distress, and you have sworn to help |
| damsels, which is why I feel I can ask you. |
| |
| If, this is not reason enough, do it for me? |
| For my peace of mind? It is not good for a |
| woman in my condition to have such a heavy |
| weight of worry upon her. |
| |
| Thank you, my love. I know you will not let |
| me down. |
| |
| Love, your wife, |
| Emrysia |
| ____________________________________________|__
| | |
\_/______________________________________________/
Hoping the letter would go over well with Robar, Emrysia carefully folded
the paper and placed it in an envelope, to go out on the next carrier
pigeon.
Frowning down and the list of applicants again, Lady Emrysia sighed. A
retired teacher and female ex-knight, and the one she didn't recognize.
Even if she hired them all, there wouldn't be enough guards. And she
didn't intend to entrust her best friend's safety to an ex-knight who left
under suspicious circumstances, nor some person she didn't know, yet seemed
to know quite a bit about the kingdom. Which really only left the one
viable applicant.
Wincing as the baby chose that moment to give its mother a kick, Emrysia
picked up her quill pen once more and began to inscribe a fresh piece of
parchment.
________________________________________________
/\ \
| | {RDM} |
| | |
\_| Her Royal Highness, Queen MoiraGwyn De'Dannan |
| does hereby decree |
| that the Castle de'Dannan is now seeking |
| suitable candidates for the following |
| position in the royal court: |
| |
| |
| GUARDS - |
| |
| Responsibilities include: Protecting the |
| Castle of Carian Trag as well as the citizens |
| therein, and apprehension of wanted |
| criminals. Devotion to King and Queen a must, |
| as well as an honest and reliable character. |
| Layabouts and shirkers need not apply. |
| Please send applications to Lady Emrysia. |
| |
| Signed, |
| |
| |
| Lady Emrysia O'Cuinn Royce |
| ____________________________________________|__
| | |
\_/______________________________________________/
Nodding in satisfaction, Emrysia stood and left the small chambers she
used as an office to mail her letters and post the call for applications
for guards.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Just a Little PK Humor
By P-k
Q: How many player killers does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: 10, 1 to do the actual work and 9 to whine about what happened over chat.
Top 10 signs you're not a good or well-liked player killer
10) You log on at your favorite inn to get jumped by 4 people.
9) You're a sniper that refuses to backstab.
8) You have one hundred healing herbs in your rune bag but not a bandage
anywhere in sight.
7) One person or another has damaged every piece of your clothing but you
refuse to have it fixed.
6) You continue hunting down people who are AA to find that they are
always out of your range.
5) You keep switching weapons in hopes that one will finally help you win
a match.
4) The last time you won a match was before Spam gear and gradual stats.
3) You sit at inns while AA and wonder why people keep attacking you.
2) Every time you get jumped you flee and run for an inn.
And the #1 sign!
1) You made a pure fighter and thought to yourself, Yeah! Now I'm going
to finally show those buggers what a real pkiller looks like!
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The Legendary Times is published by the immortals of LegendMUD. Please send
replies, additions, or corrections to our address at [email protected] for
inclusion in the next edition. All subscription options are now handled
at this url: http://www.legendmud.org/lists/listinfo/legendarytimes
For RP submissions, copyright ownership remains with the author. We do
reserve the right to moderate the forum and edit or reject any submission.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=