Volume Six Issue Seven
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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 SEVEN February 12th, 1999
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
- The Editor's Note -
- Departmental Goals -
- Upcoming Calendar of Events -
ARTICLES
- Meet Vannessa! -
- Everyone's Favorite Topic: PK -
LEGENDITES
- Announcements -
- Brew's Sacrifice -
- Tarn speaks with a Mohawk elder -
- Longing for home... -
- A heart full of despair -
- Ledgend's Fall -
- From the Local Sports Reporter -
- Legends Are Made of Dreams -
- Dragon Eyes: An Epic -
- Fire -
VALENTINES DAY SPECIAL SECTION
___ ___
\ |------------------------------------------------------------------| /
/__| EDITOR'S NOTE |__\
'------------------------------------------------------------------'
Hello All,
Last week I talked about some of the specific changes we'll be seeing over
the next year, and this week I asked Kaige to discuss the general future
of Legend. I hope you'll enjoy and appreciate what she has to say. Also
included in this once again mammoth issue (thanks for the articles, and
keep them coming!) is a special Valentine's Day section. A special edition
of the LT on the subject of housing will follow later on this weekend.
Love,
LadyAce
___ ___
\ |------------------------------------------------------------------| /
/__| DEPARTMENTAL GOALS FOR THE COMING YEAR |__\
'------------------------------------------------------------------'
First and foremost, the goal at LegendMUD is to provide a fun game.
Fun for mortals and immortals alike. We plan to strive toward this
goal by making LegendMUD a friendly place with a mature and welcoming
atmosphere, a rich diversity of people, and a depth of social context
unmatched anywhere else that is run by a mature, professional staff
that sets a good example for the players. LegendMUD should become
capable of supporting twice as many players with well-designed,
cohesive and balanced areas that take full advantage of and showcase a
flexible, efficient, stable, expandable, and configurable code base.
Tall order, right?
'Sounds good in theory but what exactly does it mean?' you ask.
The table below lists the major milestones that we will be striving to
meet over the next year. As we approach each of these milestones, you
can expect to hear more details about what exactly it will include as
well as install dates.
ADMIN BUILDING CODING PR
---------------------------------------------------------------------
2/14/99 NEW WARN HOUSING HOUSING EXPIES
SYSTEM AREA UPDATES CLANS
NEW HELPS GRAVITY
---------------------------------------------------------------------
UPDATE GENERAL BUILDER
NON SK/SP POLISHING AFFECTING
HELP FILES ALL AREAS CODE CHANGES
---------------------------------------------------------------------
AREA BROAD NEW OOC
UPDATES CHANGES COMPLEX
---------------------------------------------------------------------
SKILL/SPELL ALL AREAS ALL
HELPS SKILLTREE SKILLS
DONE READY DONE
---------------------------------------------------------------------
AREA TESTING/
UPDATES REVISING
---------------------------------------------------------------------
ALL HELPS AREA SKILLTREES WEB PAGE SPLASH
UPDATED UPDATES INSTALLED EXPIES
---------------------------------------------------------------------
ADMINISTRATION
-=-=-=--=-=-=-
Admins are responsible for day to day maintenance as well as setting a
mature and professional example. Along with PR, they do description
requests and strings for players. Admins also handle pkenabling and
maintaining the help files.
Admin's milestones focus on making sure the helpfile database is
current and accurate. With Ea!'s improvement to the helpfile system,
we will be able to make additions and corrections without a reboot.
Please point out any discrepancies you notice in the help files with
the bug and typo commands.
Admins are also responsible for enforcing guidelines of acceptable
behavior. As of Feb 14th, a new warning system where one of three
severity levels will be associated with each warning will be in
effect. Full details of this new approach will be included in the
help files and posted by Sandra.
BUILDING
-=-==-=-
Builders are responsible for the creating the world. We want to
increase the number of players that Legend can support. However, at
the same time, we want a world rich and interactive, well-designed and
balanced so progress is often slow.
The many area update milestones are intended to add increased detail
to the world, improve quest hints, and increase interactivity and fix
known problems. We are striving to streamline each area's acts and
make use of the available acts features available.
New areas are not individually listed in the milestones, but expect
to see some during the coming year. Specifically, Crusades, Alaska, and
Pittsburgh are coming along nicely but don't have install dates set.
To support more players at Legend, you expect improvments in the mud's
over all infrastructure. We hope to add more places you can "walk" and
transfer as well as improve the ability to transfer groups, with new
acts commands to make that easier.
Existing mobs in the mud will be examined to attempt to balance the
kill distribution across the mud. This means making under visited or
isolated areas and mobs that "not worth the xp" more attractive. Other
mobs which are "too attractive" (yes, you can read that as "too easy
for their current xp/level") will also see updates. It's hard to
support a large number of players when available variety is lacking.
CODING
-=--=-
While some may perceive or hope the coding department's only goal is
to publicly release the source code, they are really striving to make
a flexible, efficient, stable, expandable, and configurable codebase.
Coding's goals also include providing a rich, detailed, believable
world. The new gravity code and changes to the follow code are steps
in that direction. You can also expect to see changes in how lights
work, how water type rooms "feel" and how vehicles work.
The Coding milestones are mostly geared toward better defining the
giant unclear tasks of what is commonly referred to "skill trees".
Many players have given up hope on ever seeing these, and a few
immorts probably have as well. However, by breaking it down into an
organized plan of attack, we hope it will be achievable sooner rather
than later.
The coders will be working on changes that affect builders first.
These include builder definable currencies, new herbs and other new
components for new or revised skills. Next, broad changes that will
affect balance of skills in long run, such as gradual stats and
affects saving over renting will be tackled. After those tasks are
complete, coding new skills needed to fill out the trees will be
worked on as well as revisions to current skills. Then a period of
testing and tweaking, and finally the full launch of what everyone
thinks of as "skill trees" can happen.
PLAYER RELATIONS
-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-
PR is responsible for the "friendly, welcoming, diverse, mature and
social" aspects of the mud. They are not just coupon or token vendors.
They are not game show hosts. Their broadest goal is to promote all of
Legend's aspects as a community.
This means they remind players that we are all real people playing the
same game while at the same time encouraging players to immerse
themselves deeper into the virtual world. The LegendMUD community is a
group of players with similar interests and goals as well as a group
of characters with extremely different (and changing) goals and
interests. No one logged into LegendMUD truly exists in a vacuum, it's
a multiplayer game. Everything you do affects someone else in some
manner.
PR provides a valuable link between players and the immort staff.
Regular meetings with players and publish the Legendary Times are
intended to increase feedback and help answer questions about upcoming
changes. However, PR needs all the help they can get from both players
and the other immortal departments to really make this work.
PR is also working on a revision to the Out of Character Lounge to
make it a more useful and interesting place. LadyAce will provide more
details on this project as they are available.
___ ___
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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>
Friday, February 12, 8:00 pm - 'Leopold's Amulets' Game
Sunday, February 14 Happy 5th Birthday LegendMUD!
2:00 pm - Expies Award Ceremony
Tuesday, February 16, 7:00 pm - Trivia by STR
Thursday, February 18, 7:00 pm - Q & A in the OOC Auditorium
Thursday, February 25, 7:00 pm - Q & A in the OOC Auditorium
___ ___
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/__| NEWS AND REPORTS |__\
'------------------------------------------------------------------'
Meet Vannessa!
Vannessa Greyweir
I'm a 30 year old woman from North Carolina, and I work as an accountant
when I need to escape from my real life on Legend. I like computers
(when they don't crash, eat linux or prevent me from installing other
OS's ). I like video games, gothic horror, role
playing, logic puzzles and basically aberrant behavior.
I bring 2 years of computer software training experience, ISP tech
support and various other computer expertise to my post. I'd like to
think that my penchant for creating worlds in various role playing
games, will help my proposed area capture and hold player interest.
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
Everyone's Favorite Topic: PK
What's wrong, what's right, and all the rest.
It should be pretty clear at this point that something's wrong
with PK. The mud is becoming more and more divided between pkillers and
non-pkillers. Quite a few non-pkillers will never clan. Some pkillers
and ex-pkillers have stated that they will never again enable. Now,
this shouldn't be. So, without further ado, Bryn's Big List of Naughty
and Nice.
Naughty-
1) "I don't get no respect!"
PK is divided into two camps: RP pkillers and non-RP pkillers. Most
RP pkillers basically just want to be left alone unless they have an RP
reason to fight. Most non-RP pkillers don't really give a damn what the RP
pkillers want. I've heard RPers called wimps, stupid, retarded, etc...never
mind the fact that some of the better PKillers around are also some of the
better RPers around. Look at some of the articles and submissions Mercenary
wrote in old LT issues. Not too shabby.
Unfortunately, it seems that both sides are basically unable to
respect each other's viewpoints. Non-RP pkillers often regard RPers as easy
kills. RPers see the non-RPers as childish and annoying. Sometimes this is
true. Often it's not. What this does is create a generally hostile
atmosphere on the mud, with everyone at each other's throats all the time.
Which leads me to my next point--
2) "I'm bored! Someone fight me!"
How many times have I heard level 50 pkillers complain that there
are fewer and fewer in-range pkillers to fight. Well, sheesh. Come on,
folks, you must realize that people choose to enable or not based on the
appearance presented by the current pkillers. If we're all slinging names
at each other and saying how boring pkill is, why would anyone in their
right mind actually *want* to enable? Sometimes I'm not sure why I did, and
I actually *like* it.
Simple fact: the best way to get new people to enable is to clean
up our acts. If we as a community act like murderous, childish idiots, I
wouldn't be surprised if nobody new ever enabled again.
Nice-
1) It's fun!
At its best, pkill really is fun. Whether for the RP aspects or
simply for the adrenaline, it's pretty much hard to beat in terms of
exciting things to do while you're mudding. Granted, it's not for everyone.
But damn, it's a rush.
A Not-So Perfect Synthesis-
There's no reason why people, whether enabled or not, should become
disgusted with the institution that is pkill. None whatsoever. If it
becomes more of a problem than it's worth, we've really got to ask
ourselves what's up. It's not the code, it's not the imms. Face it, at its
most basic level, the tone of pkill is decided by the players and no one
else. Let's take some responsibility for this thing instead of passing the
buck. And let's have some fun with it.
Bryn, Witch, Loudmouth, and Self-Proclaimed Pundit.
________________________
/ \
o O | Wonder what folks are |
`\|||/ | doing over at LegendMUD?|
(o o) \________________________/
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/__| LEGENDITES: Information Regarding the People of Our World |__\
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Announcements
================
To the Shotokai-
================
Our rituals are our business. If you wish to dispute the Will
of the Goddess, rest assured the Grand Coven will...erm..."discuss" the
issue with you.
Besides, virginal maidens are made to be sacrificed. It's fun!
You should try it!
Bryn, the Loudmouthed Witch
(The above taunt is the opinion of Bryn alone, and no way represents
the official policy of the Grand Coven (TM) or any of its subsidiaries.
Have a nice day)
================
Descriptions...
================
It seems that age waits for no man
stalking us all tirelessly and completely,
allowing us to harbor no fantasies of escape.
Even though I am Scotsman, I cannot seem to shake this hunter
and my wits seem less sharp every day.
My body is tired, my stamina descreased, though occassionally my
blood stirs be it by glass or lass -wink- but on the whole
I am not the young lad that I still dream myself to be. Therefore,
as I traverse the realm that we call Legend you'll be able to recognize me
as "An aging, silver-haired Scotsman gauges your weight in stones."
Sincerely,
Pheasent2 -- a burly young lad no more.
After so long of being a mean ol killer, Akai_Hayate finds his inner
child, and becomes an ol softy helping the sick and planting trees.
short, A gentle Ninja
long, A Warm hearted soul is here planting a tree and nursing the sick
Due to my association with Lord Ulric, that I have sunk further into
degradation and depravity. Hence I now appear as:
Short: a debauched deviant from Dublin
Long: a debauched deviant from Dublin taunts you with lewd suggestions
-Lilian McGinty
================
Invitations....
================
You are cordially invited to the wedding ceremony of Unix Tironisius
and Zerox Eaglebane, on Feb. 15th, 1999 at 7 pm system time.
The wedding will take place in front of the fountain in Paris. If
you have any questions you can contact either one of us by mudmail.
================
Advertisements...
================
Hello Legend, this is Latissimus.
Many of you might not of heard of me, but I am back in business. Looks
like most of us could use a loan for the new housing, so I am opening
up a private business, a personal loan company.
This company will offer personal housing loans and savings accounts
(which offer better interest rate than the government account, and NO
charge for withdraw). In addition, the company will run a different
format of lottery, which designed is to return most of the money back
to the player, e.g. 8k reward are given if you win the lottery, if each
ticket costs 1k and 10 tickets are sold.
If you are interested in establishing an account for either saving or
loan, please contact me, if you would like to buy a lottery ticket,
mail me in Legend, and I will notify you when the lottory will be
running.
yours
old
Latissimus
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
Brew's Sacrifice
Alone in an open field a man kneels, looking down at an object in his
hand. It's a mere trinket; a small jade stone encircled in silver
spirals, with small gold etches of arcane symbols. Ok, so it's not a
mere trinket. It cost him nearly a year of searching for the stone, to
find the right size and shape. The rest of the cost was his entire
savings and a few favors to Leopold, the jeweler of his town,
Kleinstadt. The greatest cost, that's next to come. The reason he
kneels in this field. Alone. Not entirely alone. Others are watching,
intrigued by his actions.
They peek into his mind, curious of his thoughts. Images appear, a
woman, slender, delicate, woodsy in appearance. A druid, one
surmises. Love is felt strongly by all for her. Intense love, almost
blinding and scalding. Hidden among the love are tinges of confusion
and hurt. Another image appears...Hell, a tavern in hell, the Keeper
serving her mug after mug. Anger transpires, along with more confusion
and hurt, covering the love, almost extinguishing itbut it remains and
rises over, conquering the hate, anger consuming until once again love
resides, hurt and confusion hiding in the mists. Another man appears,
large, barbaric, covered in furs. Emotions spin out of control. Tinges
of love and friendship swirl around, Anger and hate stab at them,
furiously wounding the non-corporeal forms. Love hides in the
background always present, watching the hate, biding its time and
finally consuming the hate and anger until again, love remains. With
the hurt and confusion leeching from it.
The gods slip back, turmoil among them, having also heard his plans,
his requests of them, even though he doesn't know they are there, but
hoping they are. Some want to help him, give him what he wants.
Others concern for him, wondering if what he wants will only bring more
pain. More than he can imagine. Others could care less, for he is
insignificant in the turning of time and events.
One appears to him, a shining light in female form. "Are you sure?"
She asks, concern high in her gentle voice.
"All I can think of is her, all I want is to know that I'll always be
with her, to be there to protect her. Even if she doesn't want me,
perhaps she will accept this."
"Do you fully realize the extent of what this would do to you? You
could possibly never feel love again? You would not be as you were,
the stakes are demanding on the physical and spiritual body"
"I will never feel love for anyone but her. Only she matters, I am
nothing." He looks down, the small bit of jade and silver dwarfed by
his hand. He studies it, eyes welling up, a single tear builds and
slips from his cheek to splash upon the charm.
"Then the decision is made. It will be done"
In a flash, Her arm straightens, a beam of pure white light shoots
forth through the pendant held close to his heart, into him, though him
and all around him, circling his body in wide arcs. The beam spins
'round and 'round him making tighter passes, lifting his limp body off
the ground a few feet. All of his muscles are slack and yet his head
is rigid, held in place, his mouth open in an unearthly silent scream.
Eyes, wide with the pain, dart all about, tears flowing freely down his
cheeks. As the beam dims his mouth slowly closes the scream ended and
his mouth moves slowly with little sound to emit a soft "I love you"
before he passes out into unconsciousness.
He awakens to a bright dawn. Clenched tightly into his hand is a small
jade pendant, circled with silver and etched in gold with mystical
symbols. It glows brightly with a fragment of his soul, his love for
her, his life essence. He is weak and can barely stand. He utters a
few words, a refresh spell, simple magic he learned a while ago. It
fails. He collapses in a heap. Again he manages to rise a few moments
later, attempting a small healing spell. It too fails and he collapses
in a heap. Again, with a little more time he lifts himself up. This
time he casts the most basic spell, identify, on the pendant, hoping it
works. It fails and he lapses into unconsciousness. He dreams
"It is gone."
"Gone?" He asks.
"Your body has not the life essence, the spirit to wield magic anymore."
"Oh."
"I warned you." He nods to Her in understanding and complete acceptance.
So be it and such is the choices one makes for love.
Sacrifice.
"Will I always be this weak?"
"No, you just need a little rest. The magic is gone for your soul has
not the energy for it. You gave that up for the pendant. That will
take a long time to heal, many of your short lifetimes. Do not ever
expect that back."
"No, I don't. Nothing matters but her." She sighs and nods like the
mother to the child who cannot fully comprehend.
"She may never love you again, child."
"I love her." Simply put and simply said, he becomes silent and asks no
more questions, nor is he asked any and soon he awakens.
He stands, having been out for many days, enough to heal. He is weak
from the lack of movement, dirty from the elements, and rather sore
from the ground. He starts off to find her. The one who has his
heart, and will soon own his soul.
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
Tarn speaks with a Mohawk elder
The ordinary looking surgeon was still haunted by vague memories of a
previous existence and was still confused by them for surely they could
not be real. Her scientific mind had been investigating the
possibilities and exploring the improbabilities.
Those investigations and explorations had brought her back here, to the
Mohawk chieftain who had once described to her a secret ritual which he
claimed would benefit her. At that time, with many doubts, and treating
it as scientifically as possible, she had done as he had suggested, and
had found there was truth in his words. The modern world she came from
had no explanation for what had happened to her that night in the deep
forests of wild Canada. Following the ritual she had been adopted into
the Mohawk Turtle Clan.
She reasoned that if the Mohawk rituals were inexplicable to her and
impossible by 19th century thinking, then perhaps the Mohawk elders
could shed some light on the issue of her ghost like memories, also
inexplicable, and impossible by her standards.
So here she was, sitting with the Mohawk chieftain, an elder, and 3 of
the braves. She had explained her problem to them, as best she could,
how she felt she was living in the shadow of another surgeon called
Tarn, who was very similar to herself. How she remembered the death of
this other Tarn, as if it was her own. How strangers knew her, and she
had a hazy recall of events that had never happened.
'Sit in silence, child, while I consider your words' said the elder 'and
be willing to answer any questions I ask with complete honesty'.
Gracefully, she lowered herself to a sitting position, and waited.
The indian elder closed his eyes in what appeared to be sleep.
A young brave touched a small bundle he wore on a string around his
neck.
The elder opened his eyes and stared at her, through her, as if piercing
her very soul. Looking at her, yet not looking at her.
She found herself wishing she was superstitious too, wishing she wore a
bundle she could touch.
There was silence for some time and the elder's stare seemed to go on
forever, before the elder spoke, his voice coming as if from a distance,
'Tarn why do you call yourself ordinary looking?'
'But I am', she replied, 'I am no beauty. If I had to survive on my
looks alone or by my body, I would have starved to death long ago.'
'Your outward appearance may not be that which you desire, but your
inner self, child, is full of beauty and spirit. You are a surgeon
possessing inner beauty and spirit. It offends the Turtle, a symbol of
grandmother Earth that you should think of yourself as ordinary.'
The young brave touched his bundle again.
The elder paused in his words.
Tarn took advantage of the silence to ponder his words. Were his words
correct? She did not know. They did not appear to be the answer she
was seeking, yet she had learned in her travels that the mystical types
often spoke in riddles and hidden truths. Perhaps there was some truth
hidden in his words. The other Tarn, the first one, had described
herself as ordinary. Perhaps if she stopped thinking of herself the
same way, she could begin to escape the shadows that haunted her dreams.
She waited for more from the elder, but he did not speak.
Again, he closed his eyes, as if in sleep. Then he opened them again.
This time his gaze when it fell upon her appeared normal. 'A surgeon
possessing inner beauty and spirit,' he repeated.
Realising she would get no more out of him, she thanked him for sharing
his wisdom with her.
The indian chief pulled out a peace pipe from his bundle.
They shared the peace pipe in silence, then respectfully she rose and
thanked the chieftain and the elder again for assisting her, and bid
them fare well.
As she walked the long trail back to Quebec, and the auberge where she
was staying, she mused on the words of the elder. Yes, she thought,
from now on, I will think of myself as 'a surgeon possessing inner
beauty and spirit'.
short desc: a surgeon possessing inner beauty and spirit
long desc: a surgeon possessing inner beauty and spirit assesses the
room expertly.
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
Longing for home...
Tired and homesick, a lonely gothic man wandered into a foreign inn.
Caught up in his thoughts, DethStar noticed little as he wandered into
the common room for a drink. He made his way through the bustle of
people, muttering apologies to those who bumped him, and found a place
in the corner where he could sit. DethStar still did not look around,
wishing to avoid the disapproving glances from the locals. He retrieved
a personalized card from Chante' from his bag, and studied it over and
over. It was the last he had heard from his sisters. He missed them
both, but knew that he couldn't give up on trying to find his real
father. DethStar shook his head. Everything seemed hopeless - finding
his father - even getting back home. Just then he felt the presence of
someone approaching. Instinctively he clutched the hilt of his Degen.
"What cun I git ya, lad?" came the gruff irish accent. It reminded
DethStar of home, and he peered up at the inn-keeper. The man was not
very tall, but he had broad shoulders and was well-built, no doubt he
could keep trouble out of his inn very easily. The inn-keeper's green
apron had a four-leaf clover embroidered on the front. DethStar just
stared at the clover.
"You all right, lad, or should I call the leecher?"
DethStar shook his head slowly, "Im fine. I'd like some water please."
The inn-keeper frowned. "Just water?", he said, "Are ya sure ya wouldnt
like something stronger?"
DethStar shook his head and turned his attention back to the card. The
inn-keeper gave a shrug, turned, and strode away. When he was gone,
DethStar looked around for the first time. The inn was well-kept, clean
and tidy. The occupants were mostly locals, no one he knew. The ceiling
high above had great thick rafters made of oak - how they had managed to
find oak in this land was a mystery to DethStar. Everything here
reminded him of home - Ireland, but most of all the walls. The walls
were simple, made from bricks of some sort, but ornamented with pictures
and memorabilia of Celtic Ireland. As he turned his head to the wall
next to him, DethStar stood from his chair, mouth hanging open. On the
wall was a great tapestry framed in gold. There was writing on the
intricately woven tapestry:
"Ireland never was contented...
Say you so? You are demented.
Ireland was contented when
All could use the sword and pen
And when Tara rose so high
That her turrets split the sky
And about her courts were seen
Liveried angels robed in green
Wearing by Saint Patricks bounty
Emeralds big as half a county."
"Beautiful aint she, lad?" The inn-keeper stood behind DethStar with a
mug of water in his hand. DethStar didnt take his eyes off the tapestry,
but tossed a pouch of gold onto the table, "I'll buy it from you." he
said. The inn-keeper eyed the pouch of gold then said, "She's not for
sale." DethStar tossed two more pouches of gold onto the table, "Six
thousand.", he said. The inn-keeper hesitated, twice going to say
something and closing his mouth. Finally he sighed, "Im sorry lad, I
know how you feel. Id willingly give ya anything else, but this ...", he
motioned towards the tapestry, "Me mother made it for me afore I left."
DethStar sighed, and sat heavily in his chair running his hands through
his long dark hair. Taking the mug from the inn-keeper, he filled his
acorn cup and retrieved two of the pouches before standing up. "Thank
you", he said, "You've made up my mind for me. I think I'll be going
home now. Thats for your trouble." With that DethStar strode past the
inn-keeper towards the door. At the door, he stopped, giving the in one
last look and mutter to himself, "Im going home...", and steeped out
into the darkness of night.
- DethStar
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
A heart full of despair
A heart the likes Moliere
I'm doing everything all wrong
Oh God, for shame
You do not even know my name
I shall not prolong
My name is Westley and nothing more
To the forests and mountain I swore
My heart will always be full of light
Darkness and evil I will deplore
Stand as the old glorious Knights
Do not mistaken me
For I am a bel esprit
I will assist the weak
But not those of diablerie
West, my friends prefer
And the same if you concur
Westley is proper
For that is my name forever
-Westley, Squire to Lady Flower
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
Ledgend's Fall
The mighty swordsman once again set out on his enigmatic mission to destroy
all sidhes... but fate would not stand with him this day --
Ledgend's Journal:
Heading into the deepest Sidhe Halls of the elder forest, unafraid -
I continued to search for the dirty sidhe scum. Seelie - unseelie -
I have been killing them so long, no one cares anymore but the Gods -
and they can sort out the details.
I turned a corner to find a room full of sidhe, haughty as ever
crowded around some beautiful, and evil, black boots.
Being sneaky, I slipped into the room and nabbed the boots - while
putting off the sidhes with talk of a secret mission for the
queen ... but these sidhes we're not to be fooled.
"You take what is not yours!", They shouted, rushing me...
I braced for the attack, remembering the time when I was young,
and first went to the sidhe queen to seek her friendship. What
terrible things I saw that day...
"Burn in Hell, you miserable spawn of Finnarah!", I warcried...
The battle was joined, but was not to be mine -
My torch fizzled, I was cast into darkness - The sidhes knew
the territory well though -
Fumbling in my mind to recall my spell of infravision, 2 more sidhes
flew into the room (as I could hear thier shouts....) And I fled...
Running into a moonlit glade... into a forest... through the
darkness... but no - they're would be no escape, and an ebony bit
into my neck with the turn of a fateful corner.
Awaking to a warm light - as has and will happen again until my mission
is done and the gods see fit to end me - I was sent spiraling back into
a body. Mine, but not mine.
I eventually recovered my gear, but the scars of defeat run deep - and
no longer am I a master swordsman - and no longer do sidhe fear me...
My spirit is broken, my bones mended, but weak.
No - sidhe fear me no longer - But they will learn...
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
My beloved Bruce
He swore to me that he would soon return when I saw him the week before
Christmas.. but 2 months passed, and I received no word from him.. almost
all traces of him were wiped from this earth, I was left with only the
memory of him, and a few notes.
I wrote to him every few days, to reassure myself he still existed. Then one
day, I sent a letter, and a few days later, it was sent back to me marked
"address unknown." I was devastated! I wanted to just curl up and die. My
beloved was gone... without a word, just vanished without a trace...
I went on with my life, wandering around the world, just trying to keep
busy, to keep my mind off of him. It didn't work.. He had stolen my heart,
and I didn't ever want to love anyone else again. I sold my "soul" hoping to
find a master to keep me occupied, but that didn't work.
Slowly my hope of ever seeing my beloved again dwindled... clinging to well
read letters he had given me, and trying to keep his memory alive... just
trying to find a reason to continue this life... and I came so close to just
ending it all when I failed to win a battle with a cockatrice and couldn't
get my belongings back for several hours, all I could think about was what
if the world went dark and all my precious notes just disappeared.. I could
never replace those... I didn't care if someone took my coupons or strings..
but if my letters from my beloved vanished... then all my hope would be gone
too...
I did finally manage to get everything back... but I was still saddened to
see friends with their loved ones and hearing them coo over the approach of
Valentine's day.. and I felt that my beloved would never return and that I
should just stop waiting for him...
Then I woke up this morning, and he was here! it was as if he had never
left.. and I was so over-joyed that mere words can't express it, I feel
whole and complete for the first time since he left. I'm so glad I waited
faithfully for him to return. This was the best gift anyone could have ever
given me for Valentine's day. The fates have been kind.
I know now, to trust that when my dearest Bruce tells me he will return,
that he will *always* return.
- Amecia BloodRose -
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
A local sports columnist sent this in:
An angelic Awooga woman says, '78.'
'586,' a fey-looking druidess says, mischievously.'42'
An angelic Awooga woman says to a fey-looking druidess, 'HUT!'
A fey-looking druidess goes long.
An angelic Awooga woman giggles.
A fey-looking druidess says, with a hint of mischief, 'I'm clear!'
Cicatrize launches himself across the room and tackles a fey-looking
druidess to the ground!
An angelic Awooga woman throws the ball wide! A fey-looking druidess
peers at Cicatrize, looking him up and down. A fey-looking druidess
says, mischievously, to Cicatrize, 'Oof.' Cicatrize throws his head
back and cackles with insane glee!
A fey-looking druidess's hedgehog makes good...it leaps from her hair
and catches the ball! A fey-looking druidess's hedgehog cackles with
glee!
A fey-looking druidess's hedgehog scampers for the goal, then does a
little dance.
A fey-looking druidess and an angelic Awooga win the game!!!
And the crowd goes wild!
A fey-looking druidess says, with a hint of mischief, 'Never
underestimate the power of rodents.'
Cicatrize nods solemnly.
An angelic Awooga woman cheers for a fey-looking druidess's hedgehog!
A fey-looking druidess's hedgehog makes a most dignified little bow.
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
Legends Are Made of Dreams
(Note: Form taken from Les Miserables, Fantine - I Dreamed a Dream.)
Long ago, when the Legends were kind
Their hearts and words were soft
Their faces delighting
Long ago, when the world wasn't blind
Adventures were a song
And the song was exciting
Long ago world...
Then it all went wrong
I dreamed a perfect world, aye...
When faith was high
And souls were giving
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that we would be forgiving
Then I was naive and unswayed
Dreams were plenty and none were wasted
All were joyful and unafraid
No song unsung
No wine untasted
Yet the hounds came with the night
With their voices screeching thunder
They will shred your hopes apart
They will change your dreams to flames
I wish our winters were not sighs,
Our days are filled with splendid wonders,
We take our every step in stride,
But there are evils to face and tame
And still I dream of what would be
That we grasp futures together
There are no stones we cannot weather
Let us change to what we should be
So different from this hell I'm living
Nothing appears the way it seemed
Evils has not killed
The dream I dreamed.
-West, Squire to Lady Flower
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
Dragon Eyes : An Epic
Chapter 6
My apologies to any fans i have out there who were disappointed that I
missed the last LT, I was sick. Anyway, for those of you just getting
interested, feel free to request the precluding chapters and prologue
which is worth reading). Email Drako at [email protected] to request
your copy, or if you have questions/thoughts/beliefs/admissions/goals
/desires. Enjoy :)
It was deep night in the sidhe forest. Towering trees loomed ominously.
Thick clouds roiled madly above the canopy, generating raucous thunder
and piercing bolts of lighting. Thick columns of moonlight wriggled
through fissures, shedding light upon the foreboding terrain. Wisps of
fog, lost souls, wandered aimlessly, their questing tendrils glowing
dimly in the iridescent moonlight.
Pale silver sidhes, creatures wrought of moonlight and quicksilver,
were statues scattered at randomly strategic locations. Some few were
dancing purposefully, their intense waltzes eliciting profound
contemplation. Yet others were engaged in menacing activity. Muscular
sidhes of ebony were in a frenzy, rushing to the attack.
A poor man lay on the ground in a heap, his lonesome self barely alive
amongst the onslaught. The odds were dim: five to one. One of the
five was big. *Real* big. The other four, seemingly just as dangerous
in their sinewy, malicious intent, ringed around, solemnly observing
the fight, saving their energy for their turn, should the lone stranger
actually manage to survive the great sidhe's offensive.
Drako's life flashed before his eyes, flickers that recalled the
sensory perceptions that represented his existence. Lightning sparked
furiously, causing reality to stretch and distort. The light-absorbing
longsword of the great sidhe arced with painful lethargy, or so it
seemed. Endless moments passed in between brutal slices. Drako knew
he must be moving with the remaining vigor of the desperate, for he was
not yet dead. That much he knew. Hope was scarce.
Richly hued bolts of blood-red fire suddenly lashed out, wreaking havoc
among the abruptly defensive sidhes. Each quickly regained his
posture, however, and they turned, as a group, to assess this new
variable. Drako used this moment of distraction to shove his
malicious, serpentine dagger into the nearest sidhe's backside. With
amazing reflexes and astonishing tenacity, the sidhe lashed out,
striking Drako to the ground with a strong backhand.
More flames ripped the fog to shreds, leaving the distracted sidhe a
heap of smoldering ash and molten metal. Drako, retrieving his dagger
from the pile, amazed that it was intact, returned his attention to the
fray. A mysterious man, obviously a magician of some power, stood
amongst the sidhes, fire raging from his fingertips, a long black staff
fending off sword blows and alike dealing its own bludgeons.
Mesmerized, Drako watched as the magician whirled about, his
complicated fighting dance a whirl of flames. One by one, the sidhes
dropped. The ones that were not felled by the fire, but rather the
man's staff, were not overlooked. Soon they too joined their comrades
in the fiery inferno, as the magician turned their unconscious bodies
to small pyres. When the last sidhe was maimed, and subsequently
toasted, the man gazed about, searching for further assailants. Upon
finding none, he turned his attention to the pitiful heap that was
Drako.
His scorn cleared the fog faster than his fire. "What were you
possibly thinking, coming here? You have no sidhe friendship,
and are a weakling, to add to the conflagration." With a sigh, he
resignedly administered a meager bit of first aid to Drako, using
bandages to halt the bleeding.
Drako, uncertain how to commence, said, "Well sir, I was just wandering
about, looking for the druids, and-" And he was cut off by the
magician's half-hysterical, half-condescending laughter. Noting
Drako's confusion, the man clarified, "Boy, I can see you've done some
traveling, as illustrated by your gear, but quite apparently, none of
it was done anywhere near here." And he laughed again, calmer now,
less disdainful.
The magician continued, "This here is sidheland, the land of shadows."
Discerning no recognition on Drako's face, he was compelled to
elaborate: "This is the entrance to a vast kingdom of aggressively
dangerous creatures, the sidhes, of whom you have met." He beamed at
his supposed dry wit. "Those were babies I dispatched. Even I would
not venture further into this land without help, and lots of it."
"Ohhhhh," Drako replied, awe struck. The man just snickered. Suddenly
he said, "Enough. I've got business to do. On your way now." He
chanted a few words which seemed to cause the room to shrink into
nothingness and expand infinitely simultaneously.
"But your name...." Drako barely gurgled as life dimmed. He remembered
this feeling and was not scared, just tired.
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
Fire
All was peaceful in Celtic Ireland. The squirrels did their
happy, nutty thing. The sheep "baaaa'd" merrily. The pigs oinked
gladly. Then, all hell broke loose. Hell itself, the Inferno, rose to
wreak havoc. The elemental ravaged the land with fiery malice.
Nothing could stand in his way. Nothing at all.
Or so he thought. His elemental power went unchallenged as he tore
about. Suddenly, waves arose from the nearby Hivernian Ocean. Great
tidal waves lashed out, smiting the crackling flames. The clash
created clouds of steam, enshrouding the land in dense fog. Inferno's
flames lashed out, shearing away the fog.
When the mist cleared, two elementals stood facing each other.
One was a broiling mass of molten lava. The other was wrought of
water. Tides and currents whirred about, forming this creature's
composition. Inferno attacked, firing a bolt of white-hot flame direct
at the water elemental's midsection. A wall of water arose, blocking
the flame, and the two fizzed and crackled, and died out. Only steam
escaped. However, the steam rapidly condensed back to solid water,
rejoining the elemental's physique.
It was water's turn to strike, and he did so, commanding tidal
waves to wash out his foe. However, fire, being a quick thinker,
dodged away rather than waste his body's resources with a nonchalant
counter. He set shrubs and groundcover alight as he dashed, using the
spreading fire to aid his exertion. He dashed a mad circle around the
water elemental, all the while sending bolts of fire towards the foe,
so as to hide his intentions.
Eventually, the circle was complete. Inferno gradually moved the
circle inward. Water, realizing his peril, tried frantically to
escape. Rapidly wasting his body's energy and lifeline, he bombarded
the fire wall with his waves. However, the wall was too thick. He
could not escape. His futile attempts had only shortened his life.
The fire wall inexorably tightened. Soon, all that was left was steam,
and a glowing, cackling mass of broiling lava.
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
____ ___ ____ ___
/ \ / \ / \ / \
/ \/ \ Happy Valentine's Day! / \/ \
\ / \ /
\ / \ /
\ / \ /
\ / With Love From \ /
\ / \ /
\ / The PR Department \ /
\ / \ /
V V
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
Valentines Day Wishes
I would just like to wish a Happy Valentines Day to all of the people on
legend who have helped me at some point in time, and there are a lot of
you, far too many to list here.
I've seen many people say that Legend is getting less and less friendly
but since I've been here I've had no problems making friends or finding
someone willing to help when I have really needed it. So thank you to
all of you who helped me a few months back when I was a newbie.
More than that, though, there are several people who have been of great
significance to me here more than in just ic terms. Friends who have
stayed up late talking to me when I didn't feel so great or that have
trusted me enough to let me help them when something was bothering
them.
In particular, I'd like to send a giant Valentines Day hug to three
people. Mommy Bast, I love you!!! Thank you for all your help and the
creative insulting of my brother :)
Daddy Shine, I love you too!!! Thank you for dragging my somewhat
wimpy butt all around legend, but more importantly for all the times
you've helped me ooc.
And of course Nevyn (you didn't think I'd forget you did ya?) for
being... well... Nevyn and I'm not sure I can say that any other way.
You just are different so thank you for letting me see the real you. I
has been interesting so far to say the least. I love you all, thank
you again for being so wonderful. Valentine's hugs and kisses to
everyone.
~Ceri~
\*/&\*/&\*/&\*/&\*/&\*/&\*/&\*/&\*/&\*/&\*/&\*/
.--'|} {|'--.
/ /}} {{\ \
.=\.--'`\} {/`'--./=.
//` '---./` `\.---' `\\
|| /| |\ ||
\\| | To my | |//
|\_\\/ darling \//_/|
\__/\\ fiancee //\__/
\\ //
|| Jen-Jen ||
\_// \\_/
Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art-
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task,
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors.
No - yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever - or else swoon to death.
(Keats)
Happy Valentine's day my dear fiancee!
*kiss*
Vixen Tuatha WhiteCrow
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
To my dearest S.C.,
In my heart, you are number one,
You are so much fun!
The things we do, the way we talk,
Walking in the moonlight, falling in moats,
Romantic bubble baths, CRs for my brother,
To the end of time,
you will be my valentine.
Love,
Adriana
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
To Lilian
Forever waltzing in and out of my life,
like some enchanted breeze
Every time you leave, my heart bleeds as if pierced by a knife
As your passing stirs up the leaves
Hair of spun gold, flowing carelessly over shoulder
and with eyes of glowing fire
I beg of the Dark Lord, I wish to hold her
To some it seems of lust, but my intentions are much higher
To hold her in my arms, would be the realizing of a dream
to taste her lips upon mine, as we dance under the stars
My life I would give, for her to place me in her schemes
but to be without her, is worse than a life behind bars
Always will I cherish her, always will I love
my past may say otherwise, but my words ring true
Always will I want her, never will I shove
You may refuse me, darling, but I love only you
To my dearest Lilian,
Your truest love
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
Valentine's day being a time for caring, I thought we might all
learn from this poem...
Watch your thoughts,
They become your words.
Watch your words,
They become your actions.
Watch your actions,
They become your character.
Watch your character,
It becomes your destiny.
-Anonymous
Happy Valentines Day, Everyone! Be good to each other.
Jordan Pretera
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
To: Trevor
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Honey is sweet,
and so are you!
Your secret admirer
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
To Herb,
A paper heart with sentiment
Could never yet express
The love I hold inside for you,
A secret to confess.
Quiet nights of solitude
A life we both can share
A promise I can give you,
You'll never have to fear.
I will walk walk beside you
As long as I will live,
You will always have my heart
That's the gift I give.
Your loving wife,
Calliope
/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\
From Alejandro
Valentine's Day! I suppose it's a day to take note and to express your
love to those whom you usually take for granted, like maybe your best
friend, your mother, or that irritating brother or sister of yours that
you love anyway.
Valentine's Day doesn't just last for one day, it should exist
everyday. I don't see why you need to wait till Valentine's Day before
you do something special for that significant girl or guy in your life,
or your loved ones. But for those who just don't know how to express
their love, I suppose we should take the opportunity to send a rose or
a card saying how much someone means to us.
"I have learned that you should always leave loved ones with loving
words. It may be the last time you see them."
I found this quote in a webpage and realised how true it is. Love is a
special thing, and to love another person or to be loved by someone, to
me, is something magical. Imagine what you or someone could do just out
of love, and perhaps you'll be amazed as well.
So, on this Valentine's Day, I'd like to wish BrookLynn a Happy
Valentine's Day. (Will you be my Valentine? :) )
And not forgetting all my friends and family ic and ooc, all of you
mean a lot to me, I hope you'll all have a Happy Valentine's Day with
the people you love. :)
"None of us can choose where we will love."---Erik
To actually be someone's special one is a meaningful thing, so never
take the special people around you for granted, and always let them
know you love them, because sometimes it might be too late by the time
you finally tell them "I love you".
Happy Valentine's Day everyone! :)
Alejandro
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Legendary Times is published by the immortals of LegendMUD. Please send all
replies, additions, or corrections to our address at [email protected] for
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