Volume Six Issue Five
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............./ / THE LEGENDARY TIMES
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..../ /_/..\______/./_____/./__/.../__/./_______/ MUD
.../________________/ running on mud.sig.net 9999
199.1.78.16 9999
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http://mud.sig.net/ ftp://mud.sig.net/pub
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VOLUME SIX, ISSUE FIVE January 29th, 1999
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
- The Editor's Note -
- Upcoming Calendar of Events -
ARTICLES
- Did You Know... -
- The Immortal Report -
LEGENDITES
- A letter arrived, flying upon winged words... -
- Why Tara Has No Cats -
- Virago Returns -
- Mage Fire -
- An Unusual Wedding -
- Aisha Is Betrayed -
- The Conjurer's Guild: Part IV -
- Dragon Eyes : An Epic, Chapter 5 -
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/__| EDITOR'S NOTE |__\
'------------------------------------------------------------------'
Hello All,
This week, we added two new immortals to our staff -- Seth in admin,
and Vannessa in building. I'm very excited about these two new
additions, and if you don't know them already, I hope you'll take the
opportunity to meet them in the coming weeks. Future LTs will include a
short personal statement from each of them, introducing them to you.
Congratulations to the new staffers!
Don't forget, the next deadline for immortal applications is July 1.
Love to all,
LadyAce
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/__| UPCOMING CALENDAR OF EVENTS |__\
'------------------------------------------------------------------'
[All times are system time unless otherwise specified]
<0><0><0><0>February<0><0><0><0>
Thursday, February 5, 7:00 pm - Q & A in the OOC Auditorium
Thursday, February 12, 7:00 pm - Q & A in the OOC Auditorium
Friday, February 13, 8:00 pm - 'Leopold's Amulets' Game
Saturday, February 14 Happy 5th Birthday LegendMUD
and Happy Valentine's Day!
Thursday, February 19, 7:00 pm - Q & A in the OOC Auditorium
___ ___
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/__| NEWS AND REPORTS |__\
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_____ DID YOU KNOW ... that immortals can assist you with
/ _ \ RP by 'switching' into mobs and creating special temporary
/__/ \ \ mobs for you to interact with?
/ /
/ / Immortal commands allow us to "take over" the body of a mob
/__/ and do actions, socials, chats, etc. in that mob's name.
__ Some of you might be familiar with the "Dark Lord" mob,
/ \ or with other mobs showing up on chat from time to time.
\__/ If, for example, you wanted to have an RP interaction with
the London vampire, or with Queen Elizabeth, you need only
ask and a PR immortal will happily arrange it with you.
_____
/ _ \ Also available are temporary mobs -- just as we can set
/__/ \ \ up descriptions for players, we can also change the names
/ / of mobs. This option is particularly popular for creating
/ / deities, mobs to officiate weddings, and RP deaths. If
/__/ you're interested in this sort of help, contact any full
__ PR imm or department head.
/ \
\__/
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The Immortal Report
Kaige did the usual general admin stuff: sorting bugs/typos/etc
and worked a bunch on the mobkill log files nearly to the point
where they're usable.
ADMIN:
Sandra issued some warnings, and talked with Seth about
immorting. The usual online stuff. Chocorua answered a few
questions and took a stand on the pkill issue. He also unarchived
a character or two. Wraith did some descs. One took over and hour
and he helped two others with their descs as he helped the first
player. He also worked on the help files, looking for errors and
missing commands. He also did the other typical things like going
through boards, archiving/unarchiving and pkill-enabling.
BUILDING:
Rufus has been swamped at work and won't be able to get any real
work done until the 1st of Feb, when he is taking 3 days off work
then to finish up my outstanding coding/building projects.
Charity got very busy at work and will be busy for the coming week
as well. Cheyla got caught up in trying to figure out what was
wrong with the _take acts she had (that had worked fine before!).
Croaker installed housing for Ithaca/PIsles and finished housing
for Britain/Picts (at least the initial files). Flagg mostly
worked on the Expies. Kheldar worked on his area adding and
tweaking rooms and rereading docs. Rusalka's accomplishment this
week was to start in on housing for her update/area. LadyAce
plugged away at weather, quests, and kept thinking of 'one more
mob' 'one more object' and 'one more quest' -- fortunately she's
basically down to no vnums now, so this trend should stop and
she'll settle in and finish what she's carved out so far.
Sandra did lots more work on pittsburgh. Kaige fixed a bunch of
minor typos in a bunch of areas.
CODING:
Ea! got gravity working for objects, pondered the dilema of
keywords on help files. Huginn looked at vehicle code, checking
to see how it could be rewritten and cleaned up a bit as well as
adding requested features. Snapper did several restrings and a
couple unarchives, and worked on currency. Kaige fixed a bunch of
minor typos throughout the code.
PLAYER RELATIONS:
LadyAce did the standard assignments... trivia, LT, Q & A, descs,
strings, etc. She ran a game of tag as well. Chimera did a bunch
of strings, restrings, etc. and some zip strings, helped someone
perma, answered a lot of questions, sat and loafed, answered more
questions. Typical stuff. He also did a bunch of building type
stuffies for the ooc expansion. Flagg did several descripts and
fixed the grammar on one. Kheldar did 1 restring and answered a
couple questions reguarding skills and how they work. He also
answered one question on when the next round of immorting would
be.
Natalia did alot of the usual (strings and restrings), as well as
a bunch of zip strings for people who heard about them in a recent
LT. Talked with people about different mud-related topics
(housing, skills, rules), around a dozen character archivals and
one or two unarchivals for people. Spencer has been sick for the
past week and a half and unable to get near his computer at work
or at home. He's feeling better and back to work so things should
pick up again.
________________________
/ \
o O | Wonder what folks are |
`\|||/ | doing over at LegendMUD?|
(o o) \________________________/
ooO_(_)_Ooo________________________________________________________________
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/__| LEGENDITES: Information Regarding the People of Our World |__\
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A letter arrived, flying upon winged words.
Hair of brown, eyes of grey,
I'll not be compared to a summer's day.
But lest you be tempted to toss me away,
I'll not be ignored, my voice will be heard.
With flights of fancy, or dolorous paens,
Tuneful sunshine, or poetic rain,
My words fly to heaven and back again,
'Pon pleasing phrases, and meaning inferred.
Words are what mark I write on the world,
As pen marks paper, as poems unfurl,
As iambs dance and rhyme schemes twirl,
As words are my mark, so mark my word.
I will be heard.
Dulcimer.
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
Why Tara Has No Cats
One of the first things I noticed when I first came to Tara was the
number of mice, it seemed to be a veritable plague to my Agraban eyes.
Naturally I contributed my efforts to help eliminate the vermin, but no
matter how many I killed there were still more and more.
I started to wonder where the cats were? In Agrabah cats freely roam
the streets as a form of rodent control. I began to ask around,
finding the shopkeepers to be friendly, helpful and possessing a great
love of gossip. I especially started up a dialogue with the weaver
woman, Rhia, with whom I had most contact.
Rhia told me that Megwan, the wife of the Ard-Righ of Tara, had a fear
of cats, and had desired their banishment from the town. According to
Rhia, Megwan had persuaded her husband to issue an order that all cats
be drowned, on pain of death for anyone found hiding or protecting a
cat.
I was shocked, very shocked, as I have a great respect and reverence
for cats. I can fully understand why the Egyptians consider them worthy
of deification. I immediately started praying to Bast, the great
goddess of cats, to inform her of the situation. Now, Bast is not your
'lets go sit on top of some mountain and ignore any prayers' type of
goddess, no, she is a goddess of action. And she acted. Immediately.
Megwan has felt, and continues to feel, the wrath of the goddess.
Praise be to Bast.
-Jaelle
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
Virago Returns
I can't claim that I had the faintest notion of what was going on at
the time I went to spend the evening in the pleasant company of the
woman in my life. Something was amiss, evidently, - there she was,
accompanied by Sir Rictor, and they did not even seem to be quarreling
though my lady's contempt of knights is well known. They were in quite
some haste, pausing only to tell me that a friend of Abigail had
returned from God knows where, and that this concerned the Knights of
Legend as well. Well, who would I be to argue? I went along
complacently, curious.
She was pretty as pretty comes, the dark sleek woman who greeted us
with a contemptuous nod. I have always been much in favor of the
frail-looking, pale ones, and this woman was indeed composed of
porcelain and fire. 'You called?' my lady Abigail said neutrally to
her.
'You've become more obedient with age,' the dark woman smirked.
Meanwhile, Rictor kindly took a few seconds to whisper to me her name -
Virago. He's a good boy for a knight, that one.
'Don't let my showing up here fool you,' Abigail said sharply. 'Mere
curiosity only. What is it you want?'
'Let's draw up some chairs and let the ladies settle whatever it is
need settling among themselves,' I suggested to Rictor. There was a
distinct ring of old arguments and bitterness between former friends in
the air - and I have enough of those already. And so we did.
'You,' Virago replied. 'Preferably eviscerated.'
'Me?' Abigail said, surprised. 'For what purpose?'
The sleek beauty exploded in anger like lightning from a clear blue
sky. 'You lying witch! Don't tell me you have forgotten what you did to
me?'
I ordered wine. 'I'll pick up the tab,' Rictor offered. I asked,
'Business account?' and he nodded. If anyone asked he was banishing me.
I love that lad's sense of humor.
'I'm quite aware of what I did to you,' Abigail stated. 'I took you
from being a common thief and turned you into a powerful woman.'
'Wasn't there something about killing and resurrection?' Rictor asked.
'You killed me and remade me into a witch like yourself,' Virago spat.
'That's what I said,' Abigail said neutrally.
'That's one story I would have loved to hear,' I inserted, quite
impressed. My lady has a fiery temper, much like my own.
'And made a couple of knights kill each other and drive one to the
Anti-Paladins,' Rictor added.
'You lied,' Virago told Abigail, ignoring the rest of us entirely. She
was angry. The light shone in her eyes like tiny diamonds. 'You stole
my life from me, I think it only fair that I return the favor.'
'You were a common thief before you met me, and not a good one at
that,' Abigail shrugged.
'I was a child when you found me, I hardly knew who I was much less
what I would become,' Virago sneered. 'You stole that choice from me,
then lied to me consistently!' Her hand was twitching faintly in the
direction of the knife on her belt.
'It may not be my place to interrupt, ladies, but I think I should take
very badly to anyone killing each other while I'm enjoying a glass of
good wine,' I interrupted. It really does bother me when people display
no table manners. It also bothers me when people threaten my lady.
'Did I ask you what you thought?' Virago said to me, seemingly noticing
me for the first time.
'You'll find I have a habit of speaking in spite of what some street
waif with a vengeance wants,' I told her. I was mildly annoyed at the
time, and somewhat distracted from my good manners - if you had been
there you'd understand. These two women were fire and water, their
mutual conflict and the sadness and hunger for vengeance which it
invoked drew me, like a moth to a flame.
'You played God, or rather, Goddess, and took a life that wasn't yours
to dabble with.' Virago turned her attention back to Abigail who said,
'I took nothing you had not already given.'
Glancing at me, annoyed, Virago said, 'Oh, I assure you, I learned
rather well... I am no street waif any longer.' Equally annoyed I said,
'Then stop bickering like one and get to the point.'
'Didn't she do something icky to Malorn and Marcel's good buddy Crowe?'
Rictor said helpfully.
I chuckled. 'Crowe, right. Remind me to address you on that subject
later on, knight, I am tiring of Crowe,' I told him. Well, I am tiring
of Crowe. And it's not as if it's easy to find a knight these days.
People just don't have the mettle to dare become heroes anymore.
'GIVEN???' Virago repeated, pausing several seconds in shock before
speaking. 'Are you daft? You ruined two men's lives and my own - not
that I'm overly concerned with the others...'
'Is that it?' Abigail chuckled. 'Are you upset that your dogs aren't
tagging behind you with their tongues wagging in the breeze?'
'Anyhow, this is all neither here nor there,' Virago retorted. 'I
figured to be sporting I should at least give you the opportunity to
clear up your affairs.'
'What about him?' Rictor asked me. 'According to Ganymede, Crowe isn't
Crowe,' I said.
'That's a new one,' Rictor said, blinking.
'For what?' Abigail laughed at Virago. 'You plan to kill me, is that
it? The student fighting the teacher?'
'Men are of no more concern to me then they have ever been,' Virago
snarled at her.
'Well, it upset Crowe more than me, obviously,' I said, pouring myself
another cup of wine. Rictor nodded. 'Well, obviously,' he said, also
having one.
Virago paused. 'Overly simplistic, but that's the general idea.'
'Do not forget that I brought you back to life, I'll just as quickly
remove that life from you once again,' Abigail said. Virago laughed.'I
think you'll find me no easy meat, harridan.'
'I think that might have been magic mushroom night over at the hall,'
Rictor suggested to me. Again, he has a wonderful sense of humor for
somebody supposedly a hero.
Seriously, Abigail said, 'You know naught on what you toy with, girl.'
I recognized the certain note of steel in her voice; she was angry,
very angry. 'I have two suggestions for you, waif,' I told Virago.
'Really?' Virago snarled at Abigail. 'Oh, I think you'll find my
education has been quite completed in my absence.'
'Firstly - catch up with me sometime, and I'll show you a trick or two
about making others miserable,' I told her, ignoring the fact that she
was speaking as I was. She laughed at me, lighting her diamond eyes
like fire. 'Please, I'd hand you your jewels before you can blink, old
man,' she promised me.
'Ohhh,' Rictor said, impressed.
'Nevermind secondly, then,' said I.
'Good idea,' Virago told me.
'Still with the sharp tongue,' Abigail said, chuckling. 'Things never
change.'
'Give me a call when the time is right, waif, we'll have to see about
that,' I suggested to Virago. I was in a bit of emotional conflict
there; on one side I wanted to rip her eyes out for upsetting my lady.
On the other side I was curious as to how bright anger could make her
eyes shine. 'Pardon me for butting in, you know how I am about a
challenge, ' I apologized to Abigail. I suspect she knew full well the
emotions in my heart at the time.
'Nothing but my foolish blind trust in my 'sister',' Virago grimaced.
'I protected you, taught you, and gave you that life you seem to care
little about, when no one else would bother with you,' Abigail said. For
all her fury, I think she was hurt.
'I'm rather certain this will be excellent sport,' I said to Virago,
trying to draw some of her fire my way. 'Get your mortal affairs
settled, and the game will be on. I'll even give you the first round
free, for fairness' sake.' You'll notice that generosity, when well
placed, is a powerful insult.
'I'm sure it soothes whatever thing that passes for your conscience to
believe so,' Virago said to Abigail, before turning to me. 'I don't
need a sporting chance, old man... Do you?'
'Hon, are you sure you know what you're bringin' on?' Rictor asked of her.
'You were nothing before you met me,' Abigail sneered. 'There is
something to stick in that thick mind of yours.'
'Very well, then, no sporting chance, whatever you say,' I shrugged,
and raised my toast to women, vengeance, misery, and the other things that
make life worth living.
'I was what I was... It is no matter now... This isn't an argument...'
Virago said, shrugging.
'My lady, you know a rather poor amount about Marcel to be running
around challenging him,' Rictor told her. He's a dear, that lad.
'You're right, this is no argument,' Abigail said. 'I will not take
threats from you.'
'If you like I can send you off immediately after I dispatch the
witch,' Virago offered to me. 'Wouldn't want you getting lonely in your
dotage.' How her eyes burned!
'I think I would enjoy to watch you make the attempt,' I chuckled,
goading her, to see how bright the fire would blaze. 'I think I would
too,' Rictor said.
'No threats. I don't indulge in them, merely promises,' Virago said.
Rictor wasn't that easy to brush off. 'Knightly virtue encourages me at
this point to tell you that Marcel is a little above human,' he told Virago.
'Then let me issue one to you as well,' Abigail said.
'Or below?' I suggested to Rictor.
'I needed a new sheath, your gullet looks fine to me,' Virago said to
me. I wondered what it would be like to stroke the skin so flushed with
anger.
'Either way, you're not human,' Rictor said, not that easily swayed.
'And thus I believe the woman is not in the correct state of mind to be
flinging challenges.'
'Anytime you wish, ma'am,' I told her, hoping I was managing to conceal
my excitement. 'This is the most interesting date I've had in weeks.'
'If you continue with this, I'll surely make you wish you hadn't,'
Abigail said seriously to her. 'Do not forget what I have done, and
what I am able to do.' She too was ablaze with emotion. Sitting between
them was not unlike being caught between stars exploding. Words would
not do them justice.
'You didn't create a fool, sister dear, do you honestly believe I would
return for you before I was ready?' Virago sneered. 'Obviously I did
create a fool, or we would not have this discussion,' Abigail said
matter of factly. 'A very attractive fool at least, though,' said I.
'This isn't such a hot idea I'm telling you,' Rictor said to Virago,
intently. He probably liked being ignored no more than other men do.
'If that thought gives you comfort,' Virago said to Abigail.
'But she's a heartbreak waiting to happen,' Rictor said to me. That at
least caught Virago's attention, though she did not say anything. 'For
some reason that doesn't bother me much,' I said. 'I'm not surprised,'
said he.
Perhaps you should think back and realize who it is you speak to,'
Abigail said seriously. 'And what it is I've done in the past before
you make such promises to yourself. I assure you, you will lose.'
'So how does the story go, the pretty waif here turned the heads of
half your order?' I asked Rictor. She was getting me quite curious by
now. 'Then Abigail kills her, resurrects her as a witch and my order
proceeds to self-destruct in lust and stuff,' Rictor filled in the
blank spots.
'You can only imagine the places I have seen in the past few years,
sister. Unless you have been deified since my leaving... I can promise
you... You stand no chance,' Virago proceeded.
'It's been a while since I've read the story however,' Rictor said.
'Wish I'd been there,' said I, impressed. It would have been quite the
sight. I wonder why I missed it.
'Things have changed quite a bit since you've been gone,' Abigail said
with a smile.
'Good, then you won't be too terribly easy... I do so hate to be
bored,' Virago retorted.
'Oh, I assure you, boredom will be the least of your worries,' Abigail
said seriously.
'What always annoys me about situations like these is how predictable
the entire scene is,' I mused to Rictor. 'Women,' he said. I could only
chuckle. 'Maybe you can hide behind that statement, but not I,' I said.
'We knights have several blanket statements that cover our respective
behinds,' Rictor said with a grin.
'Don't get me started on them,' Abigail said.
'I'm sorry, you two were throwing insults and threats?' Rictor said.
'I don't threaten, but I've always time to toss an insult in a knight's
direction,' my lady answered him. 'Don't let me interrupt,' he said,
politely. And I consented: 'Please, ladies, don't let us gentlemen
interrupt with our philosophical musings.'
'Well, I believe I've satisfied all the requirements upon me... You'll
die... I told you... I'm done,' Virago said. I ruffled her hair; I had
to know what it felt like.
'We'll see,' Abigail said in the quiet way that always forebodes
trouble. 'We'll see.'
'I strongly encourage you to order your wreaths and purchase your
coffin before making threats like that, sweets,' I said to Virago, by
now a bit annoyed with her stubborn-headed persistence. A jest goes
only so far.
'You'll be next, old man,' she said to me. 'You're annoying.'
I put on my broadest smile. This promised well.
'Till later then,' Virago said to Abigail.
'Wouldn't want to put your post mortem expenses on your kin,' Rictor
said, always the serious, practically minded one.
'Hurry off before I decide now is a better time,' Abigail said
neutrally.
'Would you like to go third, then?' Virago snapped at Rictor who shook
his head. 'I'm just saying.'
'Didn't think so,' she spat. Turning to Abigail she added, 'Be ready.'
Then she was gone, just like that. I must say it was a stylish exit.
'Where DO you find them?' I asked my lady, honestly impressed.
'Well, then,' said she. 'There's one I hadn't expected to see.' Then
she glanced at me. 'She was in the room at the time. I suppose I could
blame Crowe and Malorn for finding her.'
'It was not a good time,' said Rictor and poured us both another
glass.
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
Mage Fire
The fire cackled energetically, lighting up the night like a miniature
star, its flickering casting ominous shadows. There was no one to
witness this rabid fire in the center of a small clearing. The
location was so remote that no human had ever seen it. How, then, did
this fire start? There was no storm, this was not a dry season, and no
fireflies had died recently. Comets had never ravaged this pristine
land. The primordial soup here contained no flies. This fire was the
spawn of a will. Not of a god, not of some far-distant mage. This
fire was the creation of fire itself: that elemental will that petty
humans believe they control. That most dangerous of The Four that
people have never conquered. This fire was birthed from fire itself.
Born of Hell, one might say.
This fire crackled madly. Sparks flew high into the sky, often
obscuring the stars. It gradually spread, growing larger, wider,
taller, fatter, advancing in all three dimensions. It dug into the
virgin soil, consuming grubs, twigs, and crude oil. It danced with
glee, gaining strength as only an elemental can do.
The fire gradually slowed, halting its outward advance just before the
perimeter of trees. Random sparks escaped, igniting still-living
leaves. Suddenly, with a huge *whoosh*, a strong *crack*, and a quick
*zip*, the fire condensed. It abandoned its fiery advance and
congealed as a mass in its radial center. Like a ball of molten lava,
it bubbled and flowed. The infinitely hot accumulation slowly assumed
shape. Though the elemental detested demeaning itself with a human
form, it was necessary to be accepted in the human world. Destruction
would be so much sweeter when the pathetic humans saw their deaths at
the hands of the elementals, the rest of whom were probably rising
elsewhere.
The human fireball slowly solidified, clothes and all. He was
well-dressed. Most elementals have good taste. Humans modify their
tastes after their respective environments, thus involuntarily
acknowledging the superiority of The Four. The fire elemental stood
erect, and proclaimed these words: "Beware, for I am Inferno!"
He disappeared, congealing somewhere closer to civilization. It was
time to begin his conquest. Let the mage fires rage...
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
Jen-Jen and SandTiger
When I found SandTiger at the eastern rim of the Punja desert he
looked, quite frankly, dreadful. He didn't look alive from a distance,
but when I got closer I saw that his eyes were open and trying to focus
on me, then he quite suddenly passed out.
I bent down to examine the boy and noticed the four scars running
parallel across his one cheek, bleeding freely, and feared the worst.
He had obviously lost a lot of blood so I held him up and forced some
water down his throat, then I carefully cleaned the wounds and bandaged
him quickly as best I could. Then I took the time to investigate the
area around us and I saw the tracks where he had crawled across the
desert floor away from whatever had attacked him. I returned to the boy
and made him drink some more water, then I followed his trail back to a
cave, in which I found a sandtiger, dead with a small stick driven deep
into his chest.
I was amazed, to say the least, that the little boy, no more than six
years, had managed to kill this fearsome beast with only a stick for a
weapon and only four scars to show for it. Of course I knew the claws
of a sandtiger were poisonous and had, when I entered the desert a few
days before, stopped to pick some of the herbs that grow at it's outer
limits known to contain an anti-venom to many poisons. I had also taken
the time to hang them over my campfire for a whole day, drying them
out, as the juices could also work as a powerful poison.
After cutting the paws off the beast I headed back to where I'd left
the boy. I removed my cloak and wrapped him in it, and I started
running towards the hills I had left a day or two before. My herbs that
I had picked weren't quite ready to be used as anti-venom, I had to
first train them through in running water and I knew there'd be small
streams trickling down from the mountains, so I ran there, holding the
boy in my arms as a mother holds her new-born baby.
Every two hours I'd stop and force some water down his throat and to
take a sip for myself and then I'd start running again, eating a strip
of dried meat as I went. It took me a day and a half to reach the hills
and I turned south, where after a few hours I came across a stream. The
first thing I did there was make the boy comfortable, floding a piece
of my cloak for a pillow and pulling the rest of it around him to
shelter him from the wind. The next thing I did was put the proper
herbs in a wide-meshed cloth that I keep for such purposes into the
stream, tied securely to a root that shot out over the surface of the
water.
Then I had a few hours until I could take them out and I used that time
to weave together a dozen or more suitable placed saplings to form a
living roof for us, gathered firewood and rocks and started a fire.
From time to time I checked on the boy and gave him more water to drink
and cleaned his scars once more. Eventually I took some water from the
stream and heated it with rocks from the fire.
Now I was ready to make his medicine. I took the home-made pouch from
the stream and, squeezing all the water out of it, put it in the
almost-boiling water I had prepared and let it draw. When it was
finished I gave the water to the boy to drink and put the herbs on his
scars, all I had to do then was wait - either he would live or he would
die.
By this time I was quite tired so I lay down beside the boy to sleep,
holding him in my arms, as human contact is one of nature's better
cures. I didn't sleep that long, I never do when I'm on the road, and
when I woke up the sun was just setting. The boy lay just as I had left
him, he hadn't moved a single muscle, except for his face, which was
now relaxed in sleep, which gave me some hope.
We quickly developed a routine in the camp after the first day when I
set it up and put out snares and traps. When I woke up I prepared for
the boy some of the medicine and changed the bandage on his cheeck when
it was needed. He didn't react to anything I did, except when I on the
first morning reached for his arms to exercise the muscles. Then he
bared his teeth at me and hissed. I withdrew my hands calmly and sat
down next to him and started talking. I explained how I had found him
and where, I showed him the paws from the SandTiger which I had put
just out of his line of sight. Then I asked him his name. He didn't say
anything, but his eyes showed me that he was listening. I told him that
from now on his name would be SandTiger, and at this he closed his eyes
in acceptance. Then I said to him:
"SandTiger, I have to move your arms and legs, your muscles have to be
exercised or they will wither up and die. And if I let that happen I
won't have done you a favour by keeping you alive. If I let that happen
you won't ever be able to walk again, so I am not going to let it
happen". And I reached for his arms again.
When I had done that I would go out to check the snares for game,
forage for roots and such and search for more of SandTiger's herb
medicine. Whenever I was in camp he would look at me, his eyes
followed me everywhere and when I left camp he closed them and I don't
think he opened them 'til I came back again.
As the weeks passed SandTiger could start moving smaller muscles, I
made him a pair of crutches to give him something to work towards and
as finally a month had gone by he was scurrying about the camp like a
six-year-old is supposed to. At that point we had a long talk, he told
me about his slavery to the Punja desert tribe and why he had come to
kill as fearsome a beast as a sandtiger. I was already impressed by the
fact that he had managed to kill it, and when he told me the rest of
his story I was even more so.
When I asked him what he meant to do next he said that he was free and
could do anything he wanted. At this I chuckled and asked: "Yes, but
what do you want to do?" to which he had no reply. We stayed in the
camp another week after he was fully restored and by the end of this
time I had grown rather fond of the boy, and I asked him how he would
like it if I adopted him and trained him as an Awooga. He accepted and
I now have a son who will no doubt make me proud.
He is already a decent fighter with what I have taught him and he will
teach himself even more - just as all the Awooga warriors have.
Jen-Jen, warrioress of the Awooga
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
An Unusual Wedding
When I told Nox that I would marry her, I meant just that, I would not
take no for an answer, which she soon found out... This is how I
remember the night..
We were sitting in the Tara reception, I had to find a way to stop her
from running... then the thought struck me, She can never escape the
Bog!
I swept her off of her feet, and over my shoulder...To the Bog we
headed...
The Bog.
You have stumbled into a vast bog that has no end in sight. The path you were
following disappears in the shifting hummocks of grasses and false trails. You
quickly sink up to your waist in the muck. The biting insects descend upon you
and begin to send you down the road to madness. There is no way out, even the
gods cannot help you.
[Exits: none]
LadyAce is flying here.
A dark skinned temptress lounges here, toying with her dagger.
Mym is standing here.
LadyAce smiles happily.
'Shoo!' a dark skinned temptress said to Danar.
Danar scuffles his feet around in the dirt.
When asked where the reception might be, Mym answers quickly 'there
will be no reception, the marriage alone was hard enough to kidnap her
for.'
Hundreds of biting gnats and mosquitoes devour every exposed inch of
Nox's body.
LadyAce says, 'We are gathered here today, in this most meaningful of
locations, to honor the love between these two people.'
LadyAce continues, 'Just as the mud holds you securely in place, may
your love also be firm, and steadfast.'
A dark skinned temptress growls, and Mym only smirks in response.
'Commitment is not a matter to be taken lightly, and yet one must at
some point plunge forth, into the unknown,' LadyAce says.
LadyAce continues, 'So also is marriage, though it can be entered
solemnly, it is never entered without the impetuousness of hope, and
new discoveries.'
She pauses a moment before continuing. 'We gather here to celebrate
this most precious love, and to join and honor publically, the private
bond you share.'
The two exchanged vows, and rings, and then Nox turned to Mym. 'Now
what?' a dark skinned temptress says to Mym. Mym says to a dark
skinned temptress, 'I was thinking we could go someplace, a honeymoon
of sorts.'
'Please god let this be the end of all this,' a dark skinned temptress
says to Mym. 'The end?' Danar says in a courtly fashion to a dark
skinned temptress. 'A marriage is just the beginning!'
Mym nods his agreement with Danar. 'I was afraid of that,' a dark
skinned temptress says. 'She's complicated at times,' Mym says to
Danar. 'Which is why I love her so.'
Mym pets a dark skinned temptress lovingly. A dark skinned temptress
mutters, 'Right, you love me, sure.' 'Happy honeymoon!' Danar said
fluently.
Danar vanishes in a bright light, the newlyweds are left alone.
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
Aisha Is Betrayed
A wicked cossack pats a large ugly-looking rack affectionately. A
wicked cossack says dramatically to Aisha, 'Up you go, darling.' He
closes the manacles over Aisha's arms and legs. 'Squirming has
potential fatality, here,' A wicked cossack says, declaiming
dramatically.
A wicked cossack lovingly run his fingers through Aisha's hair, feeling
the softness of it. A wicked cossack says dramatically to Aisha,
'Ready to breathe your last as a mortal being?' A wicked cossack
brushes Aisha's hair out of the way. He grins evilly, his teeth
gleaming in the firelight like obscene candles. A wicked cossack softly
nuzzles Aisha's neck, and sinks his teeth into her flesh.
A wicked cossack bites into her neck and drinks quietly as blood begins
to flow. He continues to drink in silence as Aisha grows paler by the
second. He sucks out the last few drops of blood from Aisha. 'Your
last few moments of mortal life,' A wicked cossack says, declaiming
dramatically, to Aisha. 'Are things flashing before your eyes now? Your
childhood, your family, your womanhood?'
A wicked cossack says, 'Have you remembered, perhaps, the times you
betrayed me? The times you would scorn me for your own arrogance?
Perhaps your memory is selective to recent events. Well, do you recall
your skulking in the foolish pride of a coddled noble for innumerable
imagined insults?'
'Well, when you get to wherever souls like yours go, try to remember,'
A wicked cossack says coldly. 'Try to remember my face as the
last you see as you die.' A wicked cossack tips his hat gallantly as he
turns and leaves, leaving Aisha to die of bloodloss.
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
The Conjurer's Guild
(Part IV - The Rebirth)
Agrabah:
I entered the grand city of the desert. With eyes like an eagle I
realized that this was a city I might profit from...
In other parts of the world, people called me thief, robber, and
murderer -- but then I was also known as healer, seer, and magician. I
wasn't very experienced in using the energy surrounding me and all
other living things but somehow I was able to manipulate my luck a
bit.
I wandered along the street of sands until I reached the end of the
street, where I decided to buy some new clothes. I entered Mustapha's
and after a few minutes I found a nice light colored robe. I paid and
left the shop. Outside Mustapha's I turned to the city's seer, Madame
Decara, to check if she could be dangerous to me. Some seers are known
to feel a mage's aura, or detect the presence of the power to cause
evil.
When I entered her house, I was surrounded by eternal silence. I peered
around the dark room, and the only thing I saw was a glowing crystal
ball in the center. I felt the power coming from the ball and went
towards it to examine it, but it seemed the ball would fly away from me
and somehow I wasn't able to reach it... I wondered about the strength
of the magical woven shield around the ball.
A high and slow voice contacted my mind: "If you have come to steal
from me, then you better leave and go back to the place you've come
from!"
"No," I said, "My name is Andrea and I have come to visit you and
to ask you about my future."
A little woman appeared in front of me and I felt a strong aura
flowing around the old seer. "Then," she said, "you are welcome
in my house. What do you want to know ? I can feel you will start a
long journey. Let me take a look into my ball."
We both sat down next to the ball and when Decara concentrated her
powers to it, a little vision appeared. We saw a small insignia within
the ball, which looked like a portal to an other dimension. Decara
gasped, stood, and stepped back from the ball. "It can't be possible,"
she said, looking at me closely.
"What is it?" I asked. "What did you see inside your ball?" Decara
ignored me and went to the door to lock it. She closed the windows and
I felt the the creation of a magical shield surrounding the house. She
turned back to me and with a whispering voice she told me that I am must
be a descendant of the Conjurer's Guild. "What are you talking about?"
I asked. "I grew up as child of the streets, I never had parents or any
other family."
The old seer introduced me to the history of the Conjurer's Guild. It
was fascinating to me, and I wanted to know more. Decara told me where
to find more information about the Guild and its powers. She gave me a
slip of paper. "Here are some people you should visit. All of them have
knowledge about the guild and they can teach you in using your powers."
I nodded, put the list into my bag and left Agrabah to find my
destiny.
I traveled through the world and through time and I found all the
people Decara wrote down. I learned a lot about magic and about the
history of the old 'Conjurer's Guild'.
A few years later I returned to the grand city of the desert. It seemed
nothing has changed since I left, and so I went towards Madame Decara's
House.
I entered the building and I felt eternal silence surrounding me. I
smiled and snapped my fingers, and the silence turned to the usual
sounds coming from the streets. Then I went to the crystal ball in the
center of the room. I could see the shield surrounding it and walked
through it as if it did not exist. Suddenly a hard beam of light
flashed through the room towards me. Instead of stepping aside, I
closed my eyes and absorbed the beam. I smiled and said, "Madame
Decara? It's me, Andrea."
"Oh, it's you? I thought I felt something familiar, but you have
changed. Did you visit all the people i told you to visit?" Decara's
high and clear voice sounded through the room and the old woman
appeared in front of me. She embraced me and welcomed me back.
I affirmed, "Yes, and I visited an old man in a town called Salem. He
is the Master of the 'Hunter's Clan'. We discussed a long time and he
agreed to my wish to revive the 'Conjurer's Guild'. He told me that he
had always hoped to meet survivors of 'The great massacre', to beg
their pardon for what happened that night. After the battle, the
Hunters had realized that the mages were peaceful and that they had
made a grievous mistake."
Decara and I talked a long time about the past years, and in the early
morning I left her again. I left Agrabah and I began my search to
recruit new members for the guild.
If any of you are interested in joining the guild, please contact me!
told by Andrea, Guildmistress of the Conjurer's Guild
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
Dragon Eyes : An Epic, Chapter 5
The prologue to this epic was awesome. The next four chapters were
pretty good, too. So if you missed any (especially the prologue) email
me at [email protected]. Enjoy. :)
Thump. Drako jerked awake, his memory momentarily impaired.
'Where am I?' he wondered. He scrutinized his surroundings. The dim
light revealed a small room. Recollection slowly dawned. This was his
room. Not home, but his rented room in the inn, which might as well be
home, since his house -- whole city, in fact, was eradicated in the
Shatterstorm.
He remembered that was why he was here; he was on a quest to
find the rest of the world. So far, he'd only discovered roughly a
third of it. Drako, somewhat painfully, recalled his adventures. The
monsters, dragons, and people. But especially the monsters and
dragons. Who cares about people when there's all sorts of cool
monsters running about, ravaging the landscape?
In any event, he emerged from bed. Suddenly he sat down
again. *You thought something was going to happen, but it's not, so
just be calm. There'll be pain soon enough.* Drako searched his
psyche, but could not remember going to bed last night. A small breeze
ruffled the curtains, momentarily allowing rays of sun to enter the
dank room.
Drako stood up, rushed over to the window, and parted the
curtains. Effervescent photons whizzed into the room, their reflective
qualities elucidating even the tiniest, shallowest, remotest nooks of
the room. But, as were their odd tendency, they left the crannies
untouched. There must be something inherently strange about those
crannies, for they seem to contain all the darknesses of the world.
We return to our intrepid explorer, who is contemplating the
sunlight. He *never* slept in. Never. This was odd. There's no better
word. Just...odd. He pondered furiously, but could not reach a
plausible conclusion. Maybe if he somehow jarred his memory... So he
accidentally caught his foot on a loose floorboard, and fell, hitting
his head hard on an inconveniently placed dresser. How fortunate. As
he passed back into oblivion, he recalled his adventure in the
underworld...
Drako awoke again, this time with a sore head, but his full
memory. He decided to leave this ill-omened city called Tara. Naught
but evil had encountered him here. 'The good must be somewhere else,'
he thought, leaving the Silver Branch.
It was another beautiful day: birds chirping, squirrels
chittering, boggles snickering. He cursed this paradoxical land.
Drako followed the path out of town, coming to a crossroads. He took
another turn this time; right instead of straight. The path entered an
inviting forest. The lush aspen trees of the city were here,
glittering, as well as imperious oaks older than the soil, lustrous
willows, whose flowing braches swayed lazily in the small breeze, and
various other trees that he could not readily identify. Fanciful
creatures, faeries and the like, danced about, whistling, dancing, and
cavorting in general. The path disappeared, but maneuvering was not
hard, there was scant ground cover, other than luxuriant grass and the
random shrub. Corn grew in miscellaneous places.
He meandered about, relaxed by the peaceful surroundings. He
stooped near a small pool, taking a refreshing sip and refilling his
canteen. Drako neared the edge of the wood, as insinuated by the
receding herbage. A small path once again appeared. He followed it,
soon nearing a small sign. The sign was crafted of some dark wood,
non-indigenous, and finely etched. "Callowhyll" it procalaimed. There
was more, but this part was of smaller print and had fallen prey to the
elements, which rendered it illegible.
'Maybe this is where the druids are supposed to be,' he mused.
He walked along, ignoring the rest of the signs, which he believed read
the same as the first. Somewhat tired, he decided to take a short
rest. He sat on a rock, and observed his progress. Drako fell off the
rock, the shock was so great. He got up, rubbing his eyes in
disbelief. The path he had followed for twenty minutes had vanished
behind him, leaving naught but impenetrable thorn bushes, and no
recourse. The path ahead, however, was as clear as day, though the day
itself was fast coming to an end. It was about five o' clock, he
hypothesized.
With no choice but to advance, he moved on. The track abruptly
halted, ringing him in a secluded grove with naught but a downward
leading staircase. He removed his dagger from its sheath. With his
track record, there were vicious vorpal squirrels or some such lying in
wait. 'Oh I hope not,' he vehemently thought.
Drako took the decline slowly, cautiously. Soon the stairway
ended, producing a large silver door and one sentinel - a huge,
imposing creature. The...thing...stood there like a statue made of
pure silver light. It twitched not a muscle. It made no move when
Drako slowly, nervously opened the door. It took no notice when Drako
slipped through the door, closed it behind him, and leaned against the
other side, gasping for air, which he had neglected in his anxiety.
No, he never inhaled.
His breath returned, and his apprehension never left. He was
quite right to be anxious. His body suddenly convulsed, torn from some
unseen source. His torso felt painfully fiery, blood flowed like a
river down his body. He looked around. There stood the antithesis of
the moonlight guard: a huge, midnight black creature of the same
species wielded a massive, frightful longsword of lightless ebony.
Drako wrenched in agony as the creature's weapon sliced him yet again.
Drako's instincts took over. He began to dodge and whirl, zig
and zag. His dagger became a whirr and a flash, sometimes parrying the
opponent's sword, other times striking blows, slowly carving away the
flesh of this insane attacker like some Chinese torture. Eventually,
the creature and Drako both slowed their offensive, circling warily,
landing random light blows. The magnificently evil individual wheezed
due to a small gash in his windpipe, emitting a faint whistle.
The creature slowly backed off. Something in this action made
Drako more fearful than ever before. A solidly built mortal such as
this looked both able and willing to fight to the death, to whoever's
death. Drako whirled in fear, just in time to duck under the massive
swing of another creature's arm. This one was huge. Its next pummel
hit its mark, sending Drako flying. He landed on the ground, his mind
reeling, his body shuddering in its death throes. He summoned all his
strength, maybe it was enough to keep him alive. Drako doubted it...
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
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