January 8, 2010 Issue
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
TABLE OF CONTENTS
A Note from the Editor
UPDATES FROM THE STAFF:
Code and Area Updates
LegendMUD Calendar of Events
PLAYER NEWS:
XP Achievements
The Pkill Front
Clan News
Description Change:
AwesomeDude
Player Submissions
'Welcome to Hell, Jaime' by Zillah Grey
Untitled by Dazzel
Untitled by Lucas Wylder
She Had the World by Naeva Trinstadt
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
A NOTE FROM THE EDITOR
What's this? A slightly late LT? I'm alright with this one-week-lateness,
though, because between the first and today, I received a couple more player
submissions for the LT. They're very good, if I do say so myself. Not that the
others weren't good: they were. I just like receiving submissions, I suppose,
because it's sometimes exciting for the players who are sending things in, and
that excitement carries over to me, and we're all just so excited about the
LT. But enough of my babble.
A few games were run over the holidays, and thanks to those of you who
participated in them; you make all the work worth it. Included in this issue
is a recap of the latest updates, some PK news, and then those submissions I
was fangirling over. Oh, if you've some free time, you should slip over to the
forums (forums.legendmud.org) and check out the latest player posts there.
There's a PK discussion brewing, as well as a plethora of PK logs to check
out! They're fun to read, I promise!
As stated on the calendar, Expie Nominations will be up sometime this month,
so be on the lookout for those. And just remember, a little more than a month
until Legend's birthday! So, get those party hats ready or something. Do
people even wear party hats anymore?
-Lamia
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
___ ___
\ |-------------------------------------------------------------------| /
/__| Updates from the Staff |__\
'-------------------------------------------------------------------'
AREA UPDATES
Area News (12-21-09)
---------
The Phillipines area was installed! Make sure to read the welcome post about
it, explore it, and congratulate Ranmaru!
Area Updates (1-1-10)
------------
Minor fixes in Philippines, Salem.
Sandra continues work on Alexandria.
OOC/PR: Lots of help file updates & a prize machine update.
Code Updates (1-1-10)
------------
Some minor behind-the-scene tweaks.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
LEGENDMUD CALENDAR OF EVENTS
[All times are system time unless otherwise specified]
January 2010
Su Mo Tu We Th Fr Sa
1 2
3 4 5 6 7 8 9
10 11 12 13 14 15 16
17 18 19 20 21 22 23
24 25 26 27 28 29 30
31
Thursday, January 14th, 7:30 pm Q&A in the OOC Auditorium
Thursday, January 28th, 7:30 pm Q&A in the OOC Auditorium
Expies Nominations will be this month!
Keep an eye on the Welcome Board!
-= Happy New Years to everyone! =-
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
___ ___
\ |--------------------------------------------------------------------| /
/__| Player News |__\
'--------------------------------------------------------------------'
XP ACHIEVEMENTS
Setheus has reached 200 million experience!
Dairos has reached 300 million experience!
Nero has reached 500 million experience!
Psylin has reached 500 million experience!
Lilianna has reached 700 million experience!
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
THE PKILL FRONT
Once again, I'm going to encourage you to head over to the forums and check
out the logs posted there (forum.legendmud.org), as well as any and all topics
of discussion that are currently underway.
As for the past few weeks, Fawkes was the most successful PKer with 21 wins
and 3 losses. Dazzel comes in second with 10 wins and 0 losses. A perfect
record? So it would seem!
Though the PK front hasn't been as active as it was back in early December,
there was still quite a bit going on. Caja, Dazzel, Nero, Fawkes, Zoroaster,
and Reaver all participated in 10 or more PK battles. Kudos to them!
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
CLAN NEWS
Sons of Anarchy clan was formed by Jackson.
Blackheart clan was disbanded for low membership.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Description Change: AwesomeDude
AwesomeDude, the cunning Game Master, has recently found his way into quite an
astonishing path! Master Shinobi contacted him about his incredible skills in
the game world and offered to train him as a ninja, saying that his heightened
senses and quick reflexes would prove him well in the sacred art of ninjutsu.
Of course AwesomeDude took this offer without hesitation, and began training
immediately, getting through his training with flying colors. AwesomeDude,
now finished with training has collapsed into a time of laziness and tiredness
after using all of his effort to become a ninja. AwesomeDude, the cunning Game
Master is now a lazy ninja!
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
______________________
/ \
o O | Wonder what folks are |
`\|||/ |doing over at LegendMUD?|
(o o) \_______________________/
ooO_(_)_Ooo________________________________________________________________
_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|_____|___
__|_____|_____|_____|_____|__PLAYER SUBMISSIONS___|_____|_____|_____|_____|
Welcome to Hell, Jaime
or,
The Death of Zillah Grey
"It's not that life is so short;
it's that you're dead for so very long."
The fire started in my eyes first, but it quickly spread to melt the flesh
around my face and throat, across my chest, and finally tore over every inch
of me, screaming through my nerves at breakneck speed, searing, scorching. I'd
felt something almost like it once, and it had taken months to recover from
the injuries. This time, the pain was for keeps.
I grit my teeth as the flames around me became white-hot, biting into my own
tongue, but I couldn't stop my own screams even then. Smoke curled down my
throat. The faces of my Hellish attackers spun around me, mouths open and
hungry, their claws tearing into me. We were sinking quickly, Imri crushing me
in his hot, fatal embrace, the spirits whipping around us.
We must be very deep now...
Vaguely, I wondered if the heat had blasted through the room when he took me,
if it had been strong enough to hurt Lime. But I sensed that we were so far
away now that it wouldn't matter.
Imri had to keep his promise to me.
Suddenly, my body hit a cold, hard surface, and I came to a violent stop.
Given the distance that I'd fallen, the impact should have shattered every
bone in my body. Instead, I stood. I was in a craggy canyon consisting
chiefly of grey igneous rock, though large veins of something like onyx ran
through the sides of the cliffs in the distance. Beyond, I could see a slope
downward - a path - but occasionally the opening belched great clouds of black
smoke, so I supposed that it only led deeper into Hell. Above me, the rock
curved miles away until it disappeared in blackened umbra. Enclosed. I was
trapped.
I couldn't make myself feel angry about that.
Somehow, my body had a great deal less substance - I felt lighter, like I
should pass directly through the obstacles around me, even though I didn't. I
glanced over my shoulder. He was standing there, smiling. His wings were
visible here, his whip- like tail flicking and writing over the rocks as if of
its own volition. The demon Imri smiled a toothy smile.
'Which ring of Hell did you save for me,' I wondered aloud, though it wasn't
really a question.
'They haven't really decided which one you belong in yet,' he replied. 'You
can be sure that it will be most unpleasant. Your mixed race adds a
complication, you see.'
I really didn't care. 'This isn't Purgatory, though.'
'They don't let your kind in places like that,' he laughed. Your kind. If I
could feel anything, I would have laughed, too. But I didn't. I felt hollow in
every sense of the word.
'Your soul is in safekeeping with me. Behave yourself here and don't bother
the locals. I'll be around to collect you soon enough.'
I shrugged. The demon took flight and faded away into the false sky. I gazed
after him and waited, still as stone.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Untitled
by Dazzel
As I was stirring an urn full of sorrow, I saw an image of my father appear in
the shimmering surface. He was smiling, as always, his strong arms pounding
on the anvil, while telling me stories of the Great War.
As a child, I remember thinking that times of war were gone forever and that
nothing 'exciting' ever happened in Tara anymore. Our warriors were
well-trained and our enemies were afraid. I understood little of the
sacrifices that previous generations made for the seemingly eternal peace that
I took for granted. Memories of running through the forests and jumping from
moss-covered stone to fallen log would suddenly appear and then disappear as I
gently stirred through the murky brew.
In another image, I was picking herbs for my mother in the forests outside
Tara. She would teach me how to brew them into powerful concoctions that we
traded with travelers from faraway lands. Yet another image appeared, and I
saw my father taking me through Sidhe lands to earn the friendship of the King
Finarra. Under a blanket of silver moonlight, I would sneak out to the forest
and dance with those magnificent creatures into the early hours of the
morning.
In those days, Tara was rich from trade with other city-states, and I still
have the silk veil that my uncle brought back from Agrabah. I remember asking
if I could accompany him on what he called expeditions. He never let me go
with him but loved to tell me stories about the interesting people he would
meet and places he would see.
Of course now that I am older, I understand just how temporary that peace was.
Generations turn, empires fall, people are killed, and your world as you know
it changes forever. With another stir of the urn, I can see a burning Tara
that is drenched in red. Suffering souls circle upward as a I stir, screaming
with increasing intensity around images of a scorched earth. Another twist of
the ladle and the image is gone.
Every day that I wake up alive, I mourn our fallen warriors and mull the
uncertain future of Tara. Off-limits to our children, our forests are now are
overrun with fighters, archers, gunmen, and magicians from all over the world.
They come for all sorts of reasons: sometimes in huge groups to kill our
deities, sometimes one by one to steal magical potions from our laboratories,
and sometimes just to kill for no reason.
I never thought that I would be trained as a warrior, but yet here I stand,
with an ancient sword in my hand, a fading memory of childhood weighing down
on my heart, and a great responsibility upon my shoulders.
The Great War continues...
-the dazzling damsel from Tara
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Untitled
by Lucas Wylder
They were short in numbers, and life was getting too stressful. Between the
three of them it was impossible to keep up, two missing children and one
adult. Sitting in the Der Phoenix at one of the tables tucked in the back near
the crackling fireplace Lucas was staring at a blank piece of paper.
They needed help; they couldn't do it on their own, and his quill dropped to
the paper.
'Dear Val', the letter began, penned by a trembling hand. 'My name is Lucas
Wylder, and at current I am the Grand Master of the Knights, a clan I am aware
of your former affiliation with. Although I am sure you would like nothing
better than to throw this letter in the trash I am asking that you take the
time to hear me out. The Knights of Old are simply that, old. Old, and gone,
and their sins have in no way been inherited by our new generation. I would
like to meet with you face to face in Italy.'
Lucas withdrew the pen, staring at the paper with a frown. What was he
supposed to say beyond that? Scribbling down a date and location he reached
for the candle across from him, and went about sealing the letter, and
addressing it. It was the last known address for the man, who knew where he
was now? The dusky skinned youth may not have believed in God, but it was the
church in Germany that he was spending the night in.
All he wanted at that point was for Setheus to come home. God listened to
everyone, right? Even the blasphemers and sinners? 'Dear God... I've never
bothered praying to you before, but Kezia seems to think you're not so bad. I
know you don't do threats and bargaining chips, so I'm not going to bother. I
don't believe in that crap where you only give people as much as they can
handle, alright? That's a bunch of bull, I don't think you give a crap about
most of us, so let's be square here. There are people out there that DO
deserve your help so why don't you get off your lazy God keester and do
something about it, rather than letting innocent people suffer, huh?'
He paused, then chuckled to himself. 'See? No threats. Just anger.'
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
She Had the World
by Naeva Trinstadt
Christmas had come and gone, all without a trace of Ari Leonte. Naeva had
spent the 25th crying, soaking Ezio's shirt with her tears as she lay curled
against him. It was selfish of her, she knew, considering what she knew about
the assassin. His thoughts, his desires, even his simple pet peeves... she'd
learned them all in the month she'd spent with him. Because of that, she knew
what he thought of her, and her heartbreak was for more than just her loss of
Ari. Her tears were for Ezio, too. Ari, Ezio, Lethe, Oberyn; they were for
those she'd lost and those she'd lose.
She'd make the most of her situation, though. It was New Year's Eve and,
though the sting her fiancee's disappearance was still as strong ever, she was
going to make sure it was a wonderful night for Ezio. The Ravenswick's
neighbor was holding a special ball in honor of the new year and she'd invited
the entire high society. Normally the little badger wasn't too keen to join
the uppity snobs in their boring mock frivolity, but this was something she
wanted her Italian friend to experience.
This was important to her for a number of reasons that she could most
certainly place, but was doing her best to ignore. A luxurious gown of
burgundy lay on the bed, a matching corset next to it, and though Naeva wasn't
sure if Ezio would appreciate the cut, she figured he'd at least like the
color. He seemed like a red sort of fellow.
Ari, on the other hand, was a green fellow. Even if he hadn't liked the color,
she'd made him wear it for her. She'd spent the past decade dressing the
gypsy, and as she had dug through the wardrobe for the burgundy gown, she'd
found her old wedding dress. It wasn't spectacular by any means, but it did
have special meaning to her. Sure, its knee-length cut was unconventional, and
emerald green certainly wasn't wedding white, but it was her wedding dress.
She'd wore it for Ari, and when that special day had been ruined, she'd
promised to wear it again.
She had taken it from the wardrobe, folded it, and put it in a box, and that
box had been taken into the dungeon, tucked away with all the other things she
didn't want to see but didn't have the heart to get rid of. Naeva knew there
wouldn't be another chance to wear it, so she wasn't going to bother looking
at it. No, she wasn't going to think of it again. There wasn't any point.
Sasha barked at her and Naeva nodded. 'I think he'll like it, too,' she said,
looking at the shepherd. Sasha reminded her of Ari, too, if only because she
figured that had Ari been a real werewolf, he would have looked something like
Sasha. They were both handsome and playful, and would have protected Naeva
from anything. Naeva shook her head, a platinum lock falling across her face.
It was best not to think of that, best not to think of him. This was Ezio's
night, and she was going to make it fantastic.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Investigations
by Razael Valentine
Peering around the hovel, Razael cautiously surveyed the scene. Whatever had
dwelled in this shabby home had most certainly left a trace; Razael's purpose
in his visit was to study that trace, and make notes of it. He strolled around
the main room, making note of the scarce furnishings and bare walls. He didn't
believe this room to be a home, for he saw no personal touches or bits of
humanity. People leave their marks. If something lived here, he noted, it
certainly wasn't a typical human. If at all.
Finally, Razael turned his attention toward the energy and magic flowing about
the room. Faint magic hung in the air, but none of it was remarkable, at least
on this floor. However, the entire area had seen much emotion, he noted,
running his hands through the air and feeling the nature of the energies.
Certainly, whatever had been happening here, it wasn't all that happy. He
could smell the anger, fear, and hate that had been created by the residents
of this small hovel. Most people didn't realize that emotions like those left
a wake, and that with enough intensity, that wake can be followed.
Finally, after jotting all of this down in painful detail, Razael moved on to
the lower level. A huge grotto sprawled out before him. This area was of
greater concern to him, for he could feel more prominent magic hanging in the
air. He could also feel more fear. Some of it was Kendrew's, but much of it
belonged to others as well. He again felt through the air, as if he were
appraising a fine cloth, and could tell that there was deeper, greater power
here. But it was barring his access to the rest of the cave. Razael could not
defeat magic like that, so he simply studied it closely and made explicit
notation about it. Nadia would thrive off of these notes, he knew.
He honestly hoped that his notes would keep her from venturing here, at least
for a time. He wanted her to concentrate on her life again, and not worry
about the rest of this. Razael saw her joy when Kendrew was returned, and knew
how important it was for his newfound family that she retain that joy.
Moreover, she might finally concentrate on the future, and he too might find
some happiness in that.
Stifling a yawn, Razael finalized his notes on the grotto. Nothing else was
here, aside from the large pool against the far wall. He had a slight
suspicion that he was missing something, but he knew that he was working on a
limited timeframe. He wanted to return before Nadia woke up, so that he could
organize these notes and show them to her. Razael felt obligated to help her
in some way, and he figured she would appreciate this greatly. After briefly
sketching out the room, he snapped shut his notebook and checked his watch.
Climbing back to the upper level, he made one final glance around the room,
reminding himself to not forget this scent.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The Legendary Times is published by the immortals of LegendMUD. Please send
replies, additions, or corrections to our address at [email protected] for
inclusion in the next edition. All subscription options are now handled at
this url: http://www.legendmud.org/lists/listinfo/legendarytimes For RP
submissions, copyright ownership remains with the author. We do reserve the
right to moderate the forum and edit or reject any submission.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=