Volume Six Issue Nine
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= .............._______ ............./ / THE LEGENDARY TIMES ............/ / .........../ /.....______.._____.....______.._____.......____ ........../ /...../ /./ \.../ /./ \...../ \ ........./ /...../ ___/./ ____/../ ___/./ __. \.../ /\ \ ......../ /...../ /_.../ /....../ /_.../ /..\ >./ /./ / ......./ /...../ __/../ /____../ __/../ /.../ /./ /./ / ....../ /_____/__/__../ \_\ /./ /__../ /.../ /./ /_/ / ...../ / /./ /./ /./ /.../ /./ / ..../ /_/..\______/./_____/./__/.../__/./_______/ MUD .../________________/ running on mud.sig.net 9999 199.1.78.16 9999 =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= http://mud.sig.net/ ftp://mud.sig.net/pub =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= VOLUME SIX, ISSUE NINE February 26th, 1999 =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= TABLE OF CONTENTS - The Editor's Note - - Upcoming Calendar of Events - ARTICLES - The Immortal Report - LEGENDITES - Announcements - - Minako - A Haiku - - Journey Within and Without - - A Knighting Ceremony - - A Dark Gathering - - Dragon Eyes : An Epic - - Praise of Quebec: The French Indian War - ___ ___ \ |------------------------------------------------------------------| / /__| EDITOR'S NOTE |__\ '------------------------------------------------------------------' Destructive Crossplay in RP Hello All, This week I want to talk to you about an increasing problem in the RP community. Even as the community continues to grow and be enriched by the new members, so also does it gain members who have no understanding of "the rules" which govern respectful RP behavior. Over the next few weeks, I will be giving you my thoughts on a particular aspect of "the rules" as I see them. I'm starting with "Destructive Crossplay" because it was brought to my attention recently through a discussion with a long-time player. Usually we talk about crossplay in PK scenarios, but crossplay can be just as much a violation of player rights in RP scenarios as well. Demanding that another player log in a certain alt is unfair and disrespectful. A polite request is reasonable, but knowing someone's alts is a privilege which should not be abused. Perhaps this seems very obvious when put in these terms -- but it is often very difficult to pull back from one's own situation well enough to see one's actions clearly. It happens sometimes, that two people are involved in an RP scenario, and one person moves on or develops another scenario with another alt. In cases like this, the original person might feel left out, angry, disappointed, and/or sad. But it is never acceptable to use OOC tactics (including demands, threats, repeated tells, emails etc) in order to force the other person to RP the way that you want them to. If you feel that you are being mistreated in an OOC fashion because of one of your alts, don't blame yourself, take control of your situation. Be firm, and say no -- don't let a guilt-tripping bully badger you into playing for someone else's sake. Play for your own fun. And remember that you are not alone, you have rights and recourse. If saying no does not get the results you want, don't hesitate to speak with an immortal. If you are in a situation where you feel that your RP has been abandoned or you feel left out, face the issue head-on. Offer to set up a time to talk about the problem, and if they are not interested, find a way to RP around it. If your RP partner never logs on, you can decide they are dead or mysteriously disappeared. If they don't have much time for your interactions any more, find a way to gradually write them out of the scene, move on, and find someone else to play with. RP situations should be treated with respect -- it is not fair to abandon people with no explanation, nor is it fair to mistreat them for their decision to abandon the interaction. Communication is a joint responsibility, but it should never be used as a weapon. Love to All, LadyAce ___ ___ \ |------------------------------------------------------------------| / /__| CALENDAR OF EVENTS |__\ '------------------------------------------------------------------' [All times are system time unless otherwise specified] <0><0><0><0>February<0><0><0><0> Sunday, February 28, 3:00 pm - Trivia! by LadyAce, Round 11 of 12 <-> <-> <-> <-> <-> <-> March <-> <-> <-> <-> <-> <-> Thursday, March 4, 7:00 pm - Q & A in the OOC Auditorium Saturday, March 6, 3:00 pm - TinyPlot: A Spring Feast Gisborne Castle, Nottingham Thursday, March 11, 7:00 pm - Q & A in the OOC Auditorium Sunday, March 14, 3:00 pm - Trivia! by LadyAce, Round 12 of 12 ___ ___ \ |------------------------------------------------------------------| / /__| NEWS AND REPORTS |__\ '------------------------------------------------------------------' The Immortal Report Kaige sorted bugs and typos, and worked on housing-related documentation for immortals. ADMIN: Sandra fixed some help files typos and bugs that were reported, warned a few people for various things, unarchived characters for a few people, and answered questions online. Aermid didn't have much online time to do much this week. She did a couple of restrings and a pkenable. Chocorua worked on cleaning up the log of the admin board, and spent a little time online during the week and answered a few basic questions about gameplay from a newbie. Flagg passed along a bug to Ea! and did normal archivals, strings, registrations, and telling people to stop misbehaving. Wraith helped sort out problems players were having with housing, talked with a few players about multiplaying, went through boards, finished splitting up the last few helps and other misc admin duties. Zandy has been out of town, but is back now. Seth did restrings, and unarchives, erased some posts by request, and talked with people about the desc registration process. BUILDING: Rufus installed Pirate's Den (formerly referred to as dark pirates), answered questions, fixed bugs/typos, worked on a further expansion to tortuga, and wrote documentation. Charity cleaned out most of the bug/typos for her areas, and is working on fixes to the remaining ones, and also did an unarchive. Cheyla morted some and caught up with people and issues; told a couple people they needed an admin to pk enable them; got herself re-organized and ready to do stuff, figured out which mobs had acts and which ones needed acts, and started adding in those acts. In addition, she worked on housing for the area a bit more; got a couple of mobs described after doing some research on them; and thought about a quest she hasn't finished yet and decided to ignore it a bit longer. Croaker was out of town most of week for a meeting. He did manage to update/debug a few things in his areas, and add more housing to Britain. Deanna did some bug fixes in her areas and added acts which allow item customization. Flagg is doing a variety of updates again, working on HOL and hell, mobs and quests. Kae tweaked acts yet some more, fixed a bunch of typos added a new quest, and added in more descriptions. She also tweaked exits some more - and realized she's growing really short on room vnums. Kheldar is currently working on mobs for his new area. Also he made a number of typo/bug fixes to Romania and did a small docs update. Leila had an unexpected operation, and is a bit under the weather but hopes to be around again in about a week. Sabella considered various aspects of her area, spent some time online helping where she could, and still considers herself an active immort. Rusalka made a few more adjustments to Tudor housing, fixed a bunch of bugs in Tudor from the bug file, finally got fixes to several mobs, and started testing Ladyace's area. Wraith cleared out the outstanding bugs from his area and updated the bug list. LadyAce worked on making fixes from testing, and added some new quests. Sandra got a bunch of acts working for Pittsburgh, and moved the entrance to Boston to Salem village instead of Salem town. She also fixed some bugs/typos in Salem and Boston. Kaige fixed typos and bugs in Beowulf, London, medieval seas, Tortuga, and the Alhambra. She also worked on documentation and building policies. Vannessa is plugging her way through builder documentation, and working on her first building project -- her office. CODING: Ea! fixed bugs, worked on ownership relating to housing, and started to look at #GEOGRAPHY section (allowing time zones and hemispheres) for area files. Chocorua set up a crontab at home to update his code once a day. Huginn fixed steal so that nonclanned items were no longer in jeopardy, and implemented a check for objects within unowned objects so that it's no longer possible to pass around owned items using containers. Snapper updated the mud to run under windows and did several strings. Rufus added a new SPELLBOOK item type, fixed installing locks not calculating properly, and tweaked the 'turning to attack' formulas a bit. Sandra investigated some bugs and added two new socials, swing and step. Kaige made clan channel colors configurable, made sure clan keywords are all in lowercase, fixed the clan friend's spacing, added builder act commands, and changed a message for break door that a player found rude. PLAYER RELATIONS: LadyAce did more housing stuff this week, ran a Q & A, & recalltag, but mostly answered lots of questions and did the standard string/description/restring thing. She found some bugs and worked with players to reimb for those bugs. Flagg supported Ceri's law trivia and Bronwyn's medieval trivia, and started putting together a hunt game. Kheldar did the usual strings/restrings, answered questions mostly related to housing and otherwise passed what he couldn't do to those that could. Natalia has suffered with the flu for two weeks, but this past week she talked about recent changes (as well as tried to keep up on them herself), strings, restrings, and tried to help foster RP wherever possible. She's also working on two game ideas. Oandlig has asked to be moved to inactive status. The school load is suddenly enormous (he's graduating year next year) and his ISP is now paid for by the hour. He's really sorry about this, but he can't seem to be able to do anything to improve his situation for a while. As it is, he's only able to check his email about once or twice a month. He hopes to get back soon and get working on things. Satsu did a ton of strings and registered/approved a pile of descriptions. He also dug through the spell helps and found typos, missing files, etc for Sandra, ran a game of trivia for a coupon and spent some time answering housing questions and familiarizing himself with housing in general. He also worked on Japan for a few hours and spent a lot of time online. Stile did quite a few strings and restrings, ran tag and a flag hunt, and answered some questions about housing. He talked at length with a player who had quite a few concerns about the effects of the housing system on the mud's economy. Spencer did the normal online stuff, strings and restrings, and is putting together some new plans for games. ________________________ / \ o O | Wonder what folks are | `\|||/ | doing over at LegendMUD?| (o o) \________________________/ ooO_(_)_Ooo________________________________________________________________ _____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|___ __|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____| ___ ___ \ |------------------------------------------------------------------| / /__| LEGENDITES: Information Regarding the People of Our World |__\ '------------------------------------------------------------------' Announcements! ============ People: ============ Stick kicks Annie Oakley in the chest, crushing bones into her heart, and she falls over, dead! Annie Oakley says, 'Looks like I met my match in Stick.' You hear Annie Oakley's death cry. [Info]: Stick has reached 300 million experience! =*=*=*=*= 'Tis with great pleasure that I can announce that Sister Becket has returned to the Knights Templar after months of absence. We rejoice to have her back in the Faith. Tancred de Gisborne Master of the Temple ============ Descriptions: ============ I, Beldin, have recently seen the light, or should I say... Dark, and have joined the highly esteemed and very powerful Dark Enforcers. While I am not the most powerful mage in the land I am undergoing a change so that I might better serve my clan in the facet that the Darkness sees fit. I am hereafter known as the Dark Mage. My powers shall be used to further the cause of Darkness in all ways possible. All hail the Darkness, kneel before the awesome powers of night. Beldin -Dark Mage {Dark Enforcers} =============== Advertisements: =============== I, Tarn of the United Surgeons of Legend, hereby announce that I am available for private consultations at my residence in Ithaca, which is located 3 rooms west of the docks of that fair city. My well appointed surgery is located in the library of my home, and there you may avail yourself of surgery for your injuries, praise for your noteworthy exploits, mend and repair for your damaged equipment, and if you wish, I am also able to poison your weapon for you (please provide your own herb). The main room of my house serves as a waiting room, and I trust you will find it to your comfort. For your convenience I have subscribed to the latest news, and other important information is also available for your perusal. I have arranged a mail service to my door, as I found it essential for receiving the latest medical journals from my home town of London. Should you require refreshment, it is my good fortune to advise that my kitchen possesses an indoor water service. Please feel free to browse my visitor's book, and to add your own comments. If you require, I am willing to provide my skills in the field as your injuries occur, on the understanding that I share in the benefits from your adventures, i.e. a share of the experience and gold you gain. As a member of the United Surgeons of Legend, I follow my guild's rules: I do not charge for my services, however all donations are gratefully accepted, and a percentage of my income goes to the guild; I will not heal injuries caused by pkill under any circumstances; and I reserve the right to refuse my skills to anyone currently on the guild's blacklist. If you have any further queries about the services I offer, or wish to see me in my professional capacity, please drop by my surgery if I am home, alternatively you may choose to tell me of your needs, or to send me a missive. /*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\ Minako - A Haiku Stealer of my heart Gentle wisp of a woman Dancing in my dreams -Ix /*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\ Journey Within and Without My name is Aisha Said, of the house Said, princess of Zanzibar and Oman. You may not know of me, of my life, or of the events which have brought me to the state from which I now address you. Time was, I fell in love with a man who betrayed me, who plotted my doom, who left me to perish. I speak to you now of events which have transpired since that fateful day. When my perfidious paramour had completed his task, I lay a while paralyzed, awake and yet trapped within myself. My dear mentor, the Lord Marcel, lifted my motionless form from the dungeon wherein I was bound, and bore me many miles until I lay in a grassy garden. Abigail, sister of my heart, sat beside me, in her sad, silent way. It seemed as if time had ceased to pass, until I felt a change coming over my limbs. My corporeal self began to flicker at the edges, growing increasingly translucent, until I became transparent. I saw myself pass through a pale fog, until I came to rest at a point of overwhelming peace. The voice of the Goddess seemed like singing in my mind, drawing me down paths within myself like a physiological hedge-maze, until it seemed I came to the center of my being. She was there, though I cannot say how I knew, or what She looked like. My words came in a whisper. 'I cannot die.' She did not respond, the question hung in the air without sound. 'Because I fear my soul would not rest, that it would haunt my beloved.' Gathering what strength I had, I entreated, 'I have not lived a life of bitterness or disloyalty. Please, in my misery, let me not betray my own heart.' It seemed as if she smiled. I felt drawn into her, as a mother cradles a wounded child. 'Rest,' she said to me. 'Heal.' Days must have passed, though I felt them not. Weeks, months, I cannot say. I was insensible to the world of time and tide. Her words came as a shock of electricity, surrounding me as a lightning strike encompasses a swimmer. 'It is now. You are healed. Will you return, or will you pass on?' I responded, 'The world is no place for me. It is only dark clashing with light, both squabbling, strutting, wasting. What reason might I have to return?' Her words were gentle, yet firm. 'Day follows night, and neither exists without the other. In daytime, the sun casts both shadows and light. In nighttime the sky glitters with moon and stars. You contain both. The world is yet for such as you.' I questioned again. 'All things come to a time of passing. Birth and death follow the same pattern as night and day.' Her voice sounded almost pitying, with a kind of heavy, painful patience. 'Child, I did not call you home. You came to me in weakness and misery, not because you had attained completion. You may abide here, and gain that completion through introspection, or you may return to the stormy earth, and gain completion through action. The choice is yours.' The decision was made in the flickering of a candle, and I felt myself returning to my self. I felt the kind of peculiar joy that a seed must feel, to transform from the smallest dead kernel, into a pale green shoot caressed by spring breezes. A miraculous transportation, from nothingness to being, crept over me, warming me, breathing into me, until at last the fibers of my eyelids fluttered, fluttered, and raised. I gazed at the sky. I am Aisha Said, of the house Said, princess of Zanzibar and Oman. I reach out to the world from behind a veil of silvered silk, to feel the rain once again upon my face. /*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\ A Knighting Ceremony The night was clear, the stars twinkled brightly, and the moon hung high in the black sky. It was an ordinary night like any other of the past, the cold breeze left any ordinary man shivering in the cold. However, from a distance, a group of men and women walked briskly across the streets toward a large house. I approached with care as to not disturb the gathering, a ceremony of sorts I gathered. Through the clear glass windows on the western side, the group had already gathered in the grand hall. The hall was unusually empty. It seems as though it has only been built recently. The few polishings present shined brightly under the large orbs of lights illuminating the room. They must be magical in origin, for no ordinary lights would float above the ground without support. Although the hall appears to be quite bleak, a long couch sits at side of the grand hall, a welcoming rest for one's tired feet. Resting on the couch is what appears to be a young man of full armor. It is strange to see such men in this area for there have been no major wars nor battles recently. A slender figure is leaning against the wall. It appears to be a woman with electric blue hair, not less stranger than the man in the full suit of armor. Standing in front of a large round table appears to be a man, yet no distinguishing figures can be seen for his cloak covers most of his entire body. However, a sudden draft betrays the glint of armor beneath a blonde youth's cloak. He must be one of them as well and it looks as though he is master of this hall. By the large wooden front doors, two more men are present although neither appears to be guards. One stands tall with his hand on a large sword, while another smiles with a nervous delight. 'If we are ready, shall we begin?' says the blonde man as he looks over to the couch and the side wall. No objections came from either end, and this I assume, is the signal for the ceremony to begin. The cloaked youth says, 'Very well then. Lady Flower and Sir Brendan, if ye'll stand to either side of me.' A new age girl smiles warmly at both West and Ramikon before stepping across the floor to Ganymede's side and standing quietly at his left. The purpose of this gathering is clear now and I wondered if I should leave before I am found. Yet how can I miss such an event? For few had ever witnessed a Knighting ceremony in progress... Sir Ganymede smiles at a new age girl. Sir Brendan concurs by stepping to the right side of Sir Ganymede, then turns to face Ramikon and West. Without another word, it begins. Sir Ganymede says, 'Knights of Legend, we have assembled in this humble place to grant upon those present, being Ramikon and West, that which they have expressed a desire for---Knighthood alongside us' 'West has proven himself,' proclaimed Sir Ganymede, 'through completion of a quest of Ritterum and of a term of squirehood under Lady Flower, of good character and unshakable honor.' Sir Ganymede declared, 'Ramikon has also proven himself, through completion of the same quest and of a term of squirehood under Sir Tempus, of those same virtues' Sir Ganymede says, 'Therefore it is my request of them both to be admitted into our ranks. West and Ramikon, do ye both pledge to obey and live by the Code of Knights without exception and at all times?' Without hesitation, the proud young man whom they've called Ramikon exclaimed, 'Aye!' A moment later, West says, 'To the Gods I swear, I pledge my loyalty to the Knights without doubt without exception, for all times.' Sir Ganymede says, 'Do ye both pledge to honor, respect and aid when necessary the innocent and good denizens of Legend, when the opportunity is present?' Ramikon says to Sir Ganymede, 'If it means my death, I would gladly do so, Sir.' West says, 'I pledge to honor, respect and aid the denizens of Legend.' A jubilant smile came across the blue haired lady indicating her approval and joy in the event. The ceremony continues without pause. Sir Ganymede says, 'then by the recommendations of Lady Flower and Sir Tempus, who is absent this evening, I ask ye both to kneel before me and accept what the Knights now collectively and happily bestow' West kneels down before Sir Ganymede. Ramikon kneels with pride before Sir Ganymede. Sir Ganymede unsheathes his silvery blade with a flash of brilliance as the moonlight filtering in through the window is reflected in it. He extends it forward and taps first West once on each shoulder, and then Ramikon. Sir Ganymede says, 'now even as ye both sank to the ground ordinary men, arise Knights of Legend!' The two men stands up with an inexplicable gleam of joy in their eyes. There is much rejoicing as each of the Knights cheered each other on. Lady Flower raced across to embrace the new Knights, the smile on her face does not begin to describe her joy. Her squire now stands among the ranks as an equal and to fight amongst the Knights. The celebrations continued as the night carried on. Quickly I realized that I must pen the events of tonight before my memory fails me and it is lost forever. So I gathered myself and hurried home, and to you I humbly submit my writings for your reading. For your pleasure or for your curiosity, I hope this has been interesting and informative. -A nameless scribe /*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\ A Dark Gathering Inside a surprisingly well-lit crypt, banners hang from the vaulted ceilings, displaying the trident clutched in a fist sigil of the Enforcers, a large podium stands against one wall, behind a lurking, dead black altar. A multitude of assorted people stand before it, ranging from grease haired punks, to heavily cloaked mages, to leather-clad women. All seem to be gathered for some sort of special occasion, as they wait in the silence. Finally, from behind a curtained area, steps a tall, lanky man with dark blue hair, seemingly normal in this congregation. Stepping up to the podium, he clears his throat and listens carefully for the echo. "Brothers, Sisters, Undecided, we are gathered here today under the banner of the Dark Lord, for a common goal. To bring back the rule of shadow to this world, and destroy those who oppose" he begins, grinning madly despite the serious tone his voice has "We have done this many times before, but this time we must totally eradicate it. And this time, we can do it, I guarantee." A soft murmur of voices ripples through the crowd, some nodding assent, others barely restraining mocking laughter. "Some of you doubt why this will be different" once again begins the speaker, seemingly reading the thoughts of most of the gathered "Well, this time your under MY leadership, and you cant go wrong when your general is a Dark God himself!" At this, the speaker cackles madly to himself, unaware for a moment of anyone else in the room. Seemingly whipping himself into a insane frenzy, his former restrained tones are replaced with a voice that rips through your mind with the tenacity of a buzzsaw. "Yes, this time, we can't lose! Nope, were going to KILL THEM! They all know they're bad, its axiomatic, and they're going to pay for their refusal!" he rants, spewing out promises of this, oaths of that. It isn't far fetched that among all this ranting he promises sole ownership of the moon to everyone in the room. Heaving strange words and pacing back and forth across the stage like a crazed stormtrooper, he is the very vision of madness. But, as he goes deeper and deeper into his self deluded rant, an ever increasing aura of confidence surrounds him. Not only does he seem to believe every word of his ranting, the others in the crowd are being drawn along with it too. The feeling is catching, the man's ego so large and attractive it blanks out everyone's mind and prints over it his deranged thoughts. With a final cry of something or another, he jumps from the stage and nearly breaks his leg on the altar before storming out the door, waving a large cudgel. Wearing nothing else than some flimsy suit, he seems almost armored by his dangerously large ego. /*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\ Dragon Eyes : An Epic Chapter 8 What? You've missed some of the previous chapters? You never read the captivating prologue? Well! Send an email to Drako at [email protected] to get a copy. Enjoy :) The olfactory was the first of Drako's senses to awaken in the morning. The sweet smell of morning dew on wildflowers wafted gently on a cool breeze, causing him to recall blue skies and lush meadows in his half-awake, non-reality phase of awakening. Next he could hear the faint fluttering of the leaves, and over that, the pleasant, melodic chirping of birds. As his lids slowly allowed themselves to be permeated by light, Drako became conscious. His sense of contented peace vanished. He felt trapped. Several objects had him bound, allowing him barely room enough for his chest to expand with breath. Drako futilely strained to wriggle his legs. He managed only to wriggle his toes. Our intrepid explorer jolted awake with the total state of clarity of awareness that can only come with being startled awake. A non-mobile reconnaissance revealed that the very same tree that shaded and cooled his pleasant dreams was now a diabolic harbinger of torture. Its great limbs were wrapped about his body, slowly but inexorably pulling him towards a gaping maw in the trunk that was not there last night. Drako knew not how to escape this predicament, for he could not move a muscle - not one worth moving, anyway. Hmmm. This would be a good time to flash his life before his eyes, but since he had done that a couple days ago, and a couple days before that, and - you get the picture - he was quite acquainted with his memories. No, the only thing to do was think of a way out. 'If only that magician guy would come by and save me again...' Drako thought. Well, since he couldn't knock on wood, and didn't think it would help anyway, noticing the obvious dissent of the wood, he had to come up with something else. The magician ended up helping in an odd way. Drako, recalling the licking flames the man had controlled, figured it was as good a waste of time as any to ponder what little facts he had gleaned regarding magic. Visions of the magician and his subtle movements danced through Drako's cranium, making it tingle. 'My Denorex must be working,' he thought with a bit of sly humor. 'Errrrr! Concentrate, fool!' He decided that dying was not a very good conclusion to this story, despite its high probability, so he concentrated *real* hard. Slowly, he gained control of his inner mind enough to recognize its symbiotic relationship with the elements. He gathered all his mental strength and ... *pushed* - so to speak. Using only his mind, he focused small bits of energy, creating a larger and larger mass, a concentrate of energy. A small ball of light, a little sun, gradually coalesced. He propelled the glowing orb directly into the craw of the malignant vegetable. The tree shied away from the tiny star with a speed in proportion to a race car - I'll write the story, you do the math. Drako, momentarily loosed in his bonds but still unable to escape, reached for his slithering serpent dagger. He found it. A quick, angry upthrust directly into a leading branch granted him immeasurable glee. The tree thrashed about, allowing Drako to get free. He ducked in among the branches, slashing violently with his dagger. Bark flew everywhere. Drako could almost hear the tree screaming. Eventually, Drako got tired, and backed off, regarding his whittling work. The carnivorous tree hung limp, its branches exhausted, torn, and bleeding thick orange sap. Bark coated the ground, leaving the tree itself nearly naked. Drako felt a moment of pity before he smiled, winked at the audience, and continued his voyage... /*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\*/*\ Praise of Quebec: The French Indian War The snow falls once again, Like years ago when it began. The flakes float down one by one, Like lost souls on the run. The blue sky has been grayed, Like the memories as they begin to fade. Long ago we traversed this war-torn land, Again and again without thought of her helping hand. The only message she left for us, Has been lost like the blown away dust. On this scroll I leave my humble praise, For all to remember the ancient days. The fireflies hum a gallant story, Of the braves fighting glory. The whitemen came with their rifle, Taking the land of the merciful. For a hundred years they fought and fought, To decide who would own the fort. Bodies littered the graceful land, Its majestic beauty lost in a fight so grand. The creatures forever live in fear, Thundering silence is all we hear. Trees and streams stained in red, What is the purpose of this dread? Never again will we forget her, Showing us what the lands really were. Never again will she give her heart, To the warriors that tore it apart. Never again will she return in our time, But forever she will live on in my rhyme. -Sir West, Knight of Legend =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Legendary Times is published by the immortals of LegendMUD. Please send all replies, additions, or corrections to our address at [email protected] for inclusion in the next edition. We, however, reserve the right to moderate this discussion, and may object to some submissions. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=