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  ............./      /            THE LEGENDARY TIMES
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  ..../                /_/..\______/./_____/./__/.../__/./_______/ MUD
  .../________________/       running on 9999
VOLUME THREE, ISSUE EIGHTEEN                                December 16, 1996

                        DEPARTMENTAL NEWS AND UPDATES
                               Player Relations

                          What is Role-Playing Anyway?
                         What Is My Character Thinking?
                                 SOCIAL EVENTS
                         The Legendary Times Personals
                                The Scarlet Note
                          How To Settle a Murder Case
                               Famous Last Words
                            A Disturbing Revelation
Famous historical, literary, fictional, and contemporary figures answer the
question:  "Why did the chicken cross the road?"
- Joseph Campbell:
    In primitive cultures, we can find many such examples of the chicken motif
    that cannot be dismissed as mere coincidence. For instance, I am reminded
    of an old Navajo legend in which a buffalo crosses a stream to "come" to
    the other side -- an obvious negative language devised to prepare
    tribesmen for a transcendental experience. Similarly, the Hindus believe
    in savanaya, or a sacred cow that leaps over a chasm on Thursdays. Through
    metaphorical interpretation, we are led to realize that all examples
    suggest an attainable higher state of consciousness like that of
    Nietzsche's ubermench, or superman, as outlined in his novel "Thus Spoke

Please send your responses to articles to the Legendary Times address at
[email protected] Letters to the editor and submissions are welcomed.
                       DEPARTMENTAL NEWS AND UPDATES

- Applications:
    The coding department is now accepting applications for people who want to
    immort into the coding department.  if you're interested, mudmail Gail.

- Skill Trees:  
    There is no release date for skilltrees. When there is one, it will be
    announced on the MOTD, as well as on the welcome, discussion, and coder
    boards, and in the LT. Asking imms will only waste your time and theirs.
    Different areas can now have different types of money, and there have been
    some further revisions to the fight system.

- Wall Spells: 
    The wall spells have been updated so that only walls cast by clanned
    characters obey attack and level limits in the normal fashion. In other
    words, this means if as a clanned character, you cast one of these spells,
    ONLY other clanned characters within 10 levels of you and mobs will be
    affected by it. All other mages casting these spells will only affect

- Guests:
    Guests are a little farther removed from the game proper now. As a guest,
    you will only be able to use the equipment given to you when you start.
    You will not be able to buy, sell, get, drop, be given anything. Guests
    will also no longer leave corpses when they die, and quit y will remove
    all the equipment from the guest character, but not drop it into the
- Sanctuary and Wells:
    The affects of sanctuary have been removed from the game. The items
    providing this affect have been modified in the area files, and players
    will be traded newstyle for oldstyle if they ask. Sanc has been removed
    from all mobs as well.
    The magical wells in Ireland have been removed for the time being. Rufus
    is working on a revision to them, but until that is complete, they will
    not appear in the game.
    Sanctuary gave someone with a 10 level advantage in rent the equivalent of
    being about 20 levels higher as far as hps went, or more. These two
    measures have been taken in response to fairly persistent player
    unhappiness and in an effort to improve game balance.

- Admin Request:
    Players need to speak to immorts TOTALLY and COMPLETELY ooc. We can help
    you much better when we can read what we are being asked. Please!

- Archiving Characters: REMINDER
    Any players leaving for the holidays that may be gone longer than a month
    are asked to request that their characters be archived just in case.
    Better to be safe than sorry. Have a good vacation!
    This issue the Roll of Honor award goes to the Newbie Helpers group, Ptah
    for his brilliant community service idea, and Fatale for her hard work in
    getting the group going.
    "I would like to thank everyone who has volunteered for Newbie Helpers. I
    wish I could list you all here, but I'm afraid it'd be too long and I
    wouldn't want to miss anyone by mistake. You all know who you are!"
        - Fatale

                            WHAT IS ROLE-PLAYING ANYWAY?
This issue, in lieu of a Roving Reporter, we offer some food for thought from
the newsgroups where Legend was mentioned in an ongoing thread about "What
exactly IS role-playing anyway?"

Jon A. Lambert wrote:
    When I first started role-playing I probably most closely matched your
    earlier definition and gradually moved on to your second definition.  When
    I started mudding I found that the term role-playing, as I knew it, bore
    very little resemblance to what existed on most muds. Yes there is a quite
    a wide definition of the term and not only within the mudding community. I
    have even seen the card game "Magic: The Gathering" talked about on other
    newsgroups as a role-playing game (hehe).

Ola Fosheim Groestad, Oslo, Norway wrote:
    I'm mostly interested in the acting bit. The confusion that the term
    "roleplaying" cause makes pure roleplaying difficult on most muds. It is
    difficult to roleplay when people run around asking about hp's etc and
    essentially are roll-playing (picked that term up from LegendMUD website).
    I think perhaps one would be better off by inventing a new term for the
    acting part of roleplaying. If I told you I was into "roleplaying", you
    would not know what I meant. Is it possible to find a catchy term where
    the concept is clear? ROLE-ACTING ?

Katie Mann wrote:
    Role-acting is rather redundant actually, you act a role. The term
    roleplay is well used as meaning to act as someone else or as you would in
    a pretend situation.  In the corporate type world they'd probably
    understand it better as something that happens in an 'empowerment seminar'
    or on the psychologists proverbial couch, but they know that it's
    "pretend."  Basically, serious roleplay on a mush is "grown-up" (or
    teenage too and soon everyone I guess) "make believe."

    I think you hit on the point with the roll-play. These people aren't
    roleplaying, their at best hm... adventuring?   Basically living in a
    choose-your-own- direction-book type world.  I think if anything, it isn't
    so much that the term roleplay is inexact, it's that to do it well takes
    effort and people don't want to put that effort into it, so they call 
    logging into their character roleplay but really they're chatting while
    trying to beat puzzles, or hanging our in a 'virtual' bar.

    Now, if people weren't so sloppy in their usage of language ;)....  and if
    they'd roLEplay more :).

Dave Arcuri wrote:
    Agreed.  The ones that really get me are the ones that toss in an
    occasional 'thee' or 'ye' into the usual 'level me' jargon and wonder why
    they don't get instant recognition from the imps for supposedly
    "roleplaying."  What the problem is, at least on our mud, is that TRUE
    roleplaying demands a complete and utter separation from POWER-GAMING. 
    Players don't want to do this, either because they don't understand, or
    they sense that it's not strongly enforced.  I tend to sympathize with the
    first group and ignore the second group when issues concerning gameplay
    arise.  True, it's not strictly enforced on PR, but that's no reason to
    intentionally disrupt the few players who are trying to roleplay, snidely
    remarking "it's a mob, i can kill it, there's no law against it, so bite
    me" while they attack everything in sight.  I personally don't see the
    challenge in mindless hack-n-slash powergaming.  Must be entertainment for
    the mindless people, eh?

    Roleplaying adds a whole new dimension to the game: a dynamically changing
    environment that (ideally) reacts to the players just as they react to it.
    However it just takes a few people to ruin it.
                        "WHAT IS MY CHARACTER THINKING?" 
              A few ideas on staying in character during chat, lag, 
                            crashes, afk, and dying.
                                                    by McGilvervy

If ye have been roleplaying, ye know when weird things happen, ye really want
to ask for help, ye wish to comment on that lag, or ask about the crash - ye
sometimes find ye canna without breaking character. What t' do? Well, I have
come up with me own descriptions or explanations, that, with a little work,
should fit into your character easily - or at the very least stir up some

First of all, unless ye be complete social outcasts, or be in very crowded
inns at the time, ye are going to need someone to talk to if ye want to keep
up a character in your mind, because the character's mind set can quickly
fall away if ye dunna talk in his or her voice for too long. Chat provides
one way to do this, but how do ye explain just what ye are doing when ye
chat? Some very good roleplayers have just pretended this was completely
normal for them, but this little discrepancy doesna make for the best RPing.
Really, some sort of reason needs to be provided. For instance, I am
convinced that it is some sort of strange magic, where I communicate with
beneficent spirits of the air - and I work this into most chat comments,
like, "Oh, spirits of th' air, pray tell me..." or "If ___'s spirit of the
air be here, please be so kind to tell your master...." This provides a bit
of extra characterization that sets my character apart from the rest of the
chatter, although it does at times get a bit verbose.

Now, If ye have been on this mud for any time at all, then ye are familiar
with lags and crashes, and have probably been afk once or twice. For lag, I
like to treat it as if I was under a spell of slowness, and type out a cry
of distress ("Help! everything I do is taking forever! I believe me body is
under an evil spell that be slowing it to a halt!!!"). However, I find the
best way to handle descriptions of crashes and afk as sort of a mud
equivalent of an out-of-body experience, resulting in weird, but unique
quotes such as "My mind was wretched from my body, and It took several
minutes for me t' reconnect t' me body, and then I found that me body
hed been transported back to the inn!"

As for dying, one short quote should work for everyone - "Reports of me death
hev been greatly exaggerated."

Of course these are the ideas **I** use, so ye really shouldna steal them
verbatim (well, except maybe the death hes been greatly exaggerated...).
However, if these comments hev stirred your mind into coming up with your
own ideas, then me little essay has succeeded.

And this be a Scottish accent. It shouldna be confused with a copy of Tad's
speaking voice, which is unimitatable.

            /                        \
        o O | Wonder what folks are   |
  `\|||/    | doing over at LegendMud?|
   (o o)    \________________________/

                       THE LEGENDARY TIMES PERSONALS                            
                             Leila, LT Staff    
My body lies over the ocean, my body lies over the sea, my body is dead in the
moat then, oh please bring my body to me :)
    - Harmony

Celebrindal, who was previously looking for the Emerald tablet, may now be seen around Legend as a tall old man who gazes at you from under an odd, crookedly pointed hat. We gather he has either found what he was looking for, or found a more subtle way of
Seek Ye Wisdom?
    My greetings, O citizens of this fair polis. The Gods of Olympus have
endowed me with a special gift, and I share this gift with you. I have wisdom
beyond my years, and will gladly share knowledge and predictions beyond my
    The advisability of battle? The answer to your deep questions? The quest
you were born to follow? The purity of your beloved?
    All this and more can only be understood by understanding the flux and
flow of life around you, and by heeding the wisdom sent down from above.
    - Delphi

In real life, Ptah and Kaige are soon-to-be-parents. According to the doctor
this morning, they are expecting a baby girl sometime around March 6th. All
good thoughts will be appreciated.

Hello Mudders,
Just so you all know I am running for best mud citizen.. and I am willing to
do almost anything within the confines of legality to get your vote. So feel
free to abuse the privilege of the democratic system we have here, and let me
know how you would like to be bribed. And no, permaing myself.. hitting dt's
are unacceptable, but monetary requests.. pkill request.. eq request..
information requests.. and negotiating on your behalf with difficult
situations are all acceptable.
    - Get back to me, Vial.

Dear Patrick,
Though things have changed a bit, I have not. Remember, Love conquers all, and
I love you.
    Your impetuous fiancee,
    - Kindred

I be intrrreshted in thish Dark Lrrrd fellow... who doesh he really be? Can he
prrrvide me with ale? Why'sh he sho mush fun to become a guppy, and be he
really one???? I wantsh t' ken sho shend me ye besht anshwrrrsh, and th'
truest nature of the dark lrrrrd revealled will win a shpechtachulrr prishe..
if I dunna drink itch.
    - McDougnnn

The ruthless Keyzer has changed short his description from that of devilish
sniper to Keyzer Soze. When asked why he had decided upon a change, he
whispered with a horrible gleam to his eye that, 'now, people will shudder at
my name'.

Den and Myriad Siva would like to announce that they are expecting a little
Siva soon to add to the population at Legend.

Join clan.... um... whashit - McDougan...
At clan McDougn, we ashept all, eshept Bloody englishmen who dunna be too mush
fun t' eshclude, and of coursh, thosh nashty Leila and Shpencer... Bloody
inferno! That lightnnn'nn bolt nearly hit me!!!! Alright.. ye twain can join!
We'll eshclude Queen Elishabeth - Um... gsh day eshocushnnner..... alrightch!
ye all may join Prrrvided ye'll embrashe th' shcottish way. Shimply contacht
me, and I will lead ye through th' oathsh....Whash wash I talchnn aboutch????
Oh, Bloody infrrrno...
    - McDougan

The cowboy Kidd has changed his name from 'A swift cowboy of the west' to one
which is sure to please the ladies, 'A tall dark cowboy of the west'.

                                   \|/ \|/ \|/
                                 THE SCARLET NOTE
    It was a cool and stormy evening in Sherwood. Patrons gathered together at
the inn, sitting around the warm fire, drinking many ales and chatting
amiably, hardly noticing one man, slumped and disheveled at a corner table.
Alone he sat, clutching a much-folded and worn note in one hand, a hefty mug
in the other. With a horrible crash and a fierce gust of wind, the door to the
tavern flew open, in its frame stood Malorn, face reddened by the harsh winds,
sword drawn and readied. All but one turned to watch the spectacular figure as
he crossed the room and drew his sword to Crowe's neck, holding it by him in
unveiled threat. Struggling to his feet and tearing the sword from his throat,
Crowe turned to face both his aggressor and the crowd of people who were
suddenly silenced by the display.
    'I told you to stay away from her Crowe, but you would not listen... now
you will die!!'.
    'You have some nerve! You are the one who steals her, and then you accuse
me of doing it?!' Crowe countered angrily. 'Do you think I am stupid? I got
Virago's note, right here in black and white. And I will shove it down your
throat as you die painfully.'
    'Me steal her? You blind idiot, you are the thief you rusty old knight.
I'm the one who got a note, you fool! Don't even try to trick me, you aren't
good at it.' Malorn snarled as he lunged for Crowe.
    'Liar!', Crowe growled as he pushed Malorn away from him, 'even in victory
you cannot tell the truth!'
    'Victory?! It seems you have kidnapped her and made me the fool. Now you
will die like the weasel you are!' Malorn cried as he lunged for Crowe.
    Slipping from Malorn's attack, Crowe seemed to calm. 'Wait a minute!', he
exclaimed, 'If you say you got a note, then I want to see it'. 
    'As if you can read,' Malorn snorted as he threw a letter from Virago at
Crowe, 'but I'll show it to you anyway.' Crowe grabbed the letter and read its
words, his face growing pale with each line.
    'Someone is attempting to deceive us' Crowe said to Malorn, handing him an
identical letter.
    'It's apparent to me that it's you,' Malorn said to Crowe, 'it is rather
transparent of you to try this.'
    'Don't be a fool!' Crowe said to Malorn. 'These letters are identical
except in their recipient.'
    'Who would do this except you?' Malorn asked Crowe with a sneer.
    'I don't know,' Crowe said to Malorn, 'but I'll soon find out'.
    'When is the last time anyone saw Virago?' Crowe called to the tavern.
    'A day or two, I think it's been since I last saw her here in Sherwood,'
Leah yelled from her stool at the bar. Crossing the room, Crowe grabbed Leah
by the shoulders.
    'Was she alone?' Malorn implored as the tavern silently awaited her
    'Alone to my knowledge' Leah replied, lifting Crowe's hands from her
shoulders, 'though to be honest, I wasn't paying attention.'
    'Did she seem any different to you?' Crowe asked.
    'I didn't say much to her I'm afraid, she left quickly.' Leah said with a
    Turning to Crowe, Malorn asked, 'Who would hate you enough to see you
    'There are a few prospects,' Crowe said with a smirk. 'This will require
thought, but first we need to find Virago.'
    'Yes...' Malorn trailed off, shaking his head. 
    'There's that damned dizziness' Crowe muttered as he reached for a chair.
    'Well, I can find anyone' Malorn said, reaching for his cloak. 'If I am
not to be hindered by you and your brethren.'
    'Do what you must,' Crowe implored, 'just find her.'
    'And when we do find Virago, we should let her decide without pressuring
her, I don't want to fight you anymore' Malorn said with a resigned sigh.
    'Agreed,' said Crowe, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, 'nor do I.'
    'Not that I am afraid of you, by the way.' Malorn said with a wink as he
readied himself for his journey and Crowe staggered into the night, searching
for clues to the curious notes and Virago's strange disappearance.

                                   \|/ \|/ \|/
                           HOW TO SETTLE A MURDER CASE
                                    -Duncan Ruthven McDougan

The events of the Mystery of the Mummer's Murder were quite eashily solved
once we decided who we didna like. The person we felt th' mosht like accusin'
being Outsider, we then proceeded t' build up th' cashe. I now recount th'
events of that night as they happened in our minds.

Paribus claimed that Outsider and Spite were conspiring t' put something over
on Outshider. Crowe, Ryssa and I determined, however, that Spite started to
realize Outsider wasna joking about killing her stepfather. As soon as she
realized thish, she went to him and withdrew her support. Outshider
agreed..... or so it seemed... He claimed that of course he was joking... but
if that be true, why did he then suddenly up and invite Ulric, a close
acquaintance... who alwaysh goes about with his special bone knife? After his
father started yelling at him for inviting Ulric - a nice pershon, but not
high enough rank for Major Payne's tastes, Outshider slipped over t' Ulric's,
shtole th' knife from th' scabbard, restarted th' argument, and stormed out,
planning t' slip around and stab his father that night... but Spite stood
before him. In his rageful mood, he lifted th' dagger and shtabbed her.

But her cry was heard....

Outshider didna really like Ulric in any case, so he dropped th' knife, and
fled.... But we didna find th' knife. It was found by an uninformed servant
later, and returned t' Ulric. Bertie, a young boy who lives in the village,
after we met with him, ran back to th' house, looked around, and met th'
servant.... who informed him that th' knife had been found and returned.
Wanting t' protect Ulric, Bertie went t' his house, slipped in t' steal th'
knife, and went t' throw it off th' cliff... with it in plain sight. Outsider,
hiding within th' horse stalls at Mistress Quickley's Inn, saw th' knife,
followed him, and, hoping th' body, with th' knife upon it would be found in
th' morning and Bertie blamed as th' murderer, shoved Bertie off th' cliff.

All those concerned are satisfied, so we feel no need t' continue th'
inveshtigation. If ye see Outshider, arrest him for us.

                                   \|/ \|/ \|/
                                FAMOUS LAST WORDS
                                                by Keymistress
Well born in the fields of Ireland was I, in a little town inn where Tika
took me from my mother when I was orphaned from my family. I became a strong
lassie with the grace and dignity of my heritage. It was Ireland where I
met my beloved Kai, and fell in love with my friend of many a year.
Although, the times were both good and bad, we didn't make it the year it
all happened. I had discovered that I was not indeed Tika's child but was
the child of a mysterious gypsy woman, and had three sisters: Aermid the
flopper; Jen-Creature the beautiful; and Myriad the smart, my best friend.
I had separated with my beloved Kai and searched alone in this vast world
when I came luckily on Satan who helped me through tough times and brought
me my children. The first child was Rummy, the terror of a teenager, the
second Chrystalline who is my little beauty, the third was Major_Payne who
was the tyke, and finally Marley, my dear little girl. Bounding through the
chains of love and life, I fell or was pushed into this horrible
                                   \|/ \|/ \|/
                               A DISTURBING REVELATION
The morning before the Legendary Times was to be sent, a torn and dirtied
scrap of paper was pushed under the gap of the office door. Upon it were
these words exactly as they are written here...

    I have kept my silence for two weeks now fearing, as I should, that
consequences of my actions would mean my death. Today I speak out as I ought
to have spoken long before. I write in response to the kidnapping of Virago,
the beautiful and frail young girl who has been stolen away from her family
and friends. The accusations which have been spoken are all untrue, it was
neither Crowe nor Malorn who stole Virago. I know who stole Virago, I know
because I saw. I beg your indulgence while I retell my story, after which, you
may choose to believe, or dispute my words. But I swear they are true.
    I tread the earth lightly, hiding in the darkness, dwelling amongst the
untrodden ways. My affinity with the earth brands me druid, my secrecy finds
me strange to those who do not know the abilities of the earth. A druid relies
on her senses, and as I spend my days and my nights collecting and gathering
in the dark underbellies of the forests, it is my sense of smell which I trust
more than any other. Thus it was that a strange scent compelled me into the
darkest, most foul reaches of the forests near Klein. There I found, standing
atop a hill in the most curious of garbs, eleven women all moving, as though
mesmerized, in a strange and snake-like dance. I could hardly take my eyes
from the scene before me, I had fallen into a wonderful trance and thus I can
not tell you how long I watched their beautiful and haunting dance. I can tell
you though, even from this trance, that what I saw was not intended for the
eyes of mortals.
    One woman, Petal, stood alone, set apart from their writhing mass. She
called to the women who knelt at her feet. Such an aura about her, shimmering,
translucent, breathtaking. Her complexion deathly pale in the moonlight, her
voice cool and clear she spoke and I felt my heart pound in my chest. Not
horrible, nor beautiful, but a voice which no human could own. She ordered
these women to the four corners of the earth to bring back strange herbs and
flowers. Some were familiar to me, some I did not know by their name. I
watched as one by one the women disappeared into the bushes, one so close to
me I could feel the warmth of her skin as it nearly brushed mine. Thankfully,
she did not sense me as I hid still and silent, not moving, hardly breathing.
    It was as though no time had passed when these women returned, each
carrying either a branch of herbs, a jar, or even, to my horror, a bloodied
mass. Some herbs and flowers I recognized by scent as they threw each item
ceremoniously into a large, black cauldron. Neroli was the first to be thrown
into that pot. Then cinnamon, ambergris, bergamot and sandalwood. Then a drop
of blood from a freshly slain lamb, then a large toad, then something
unrecognizable and finally, with a low hiss, the one they call Abigail tore an
amulet from her neck. She danced furiously about the pot as the women watched
and chanted some foreign words. Her body seemed to rise into the air, then
lower as though the forces of the earth were conquered by her. Finally, she
threw the amulet into the cauldron and watched with a shriek of delight as it
bubbled and frothed furiously. Petal  pulled from a sack one single black
hair, and one single blonde, long and straight both. She dropped them into the
pot and incanted some final words as they all fell to their feet and waited
while their pot boiled further.
    Never have I encountered such an aroma. It nearly gagged me, and I found
myself as though buried in that scent - yet it was somehow not entirely
unpleasant. That scent buried me to my neck as though my stomach were
overflowing with it. It brought me to myself, rescued me only moments before
the overpowering presence of the potion which boiled, its aroma, was about to
suffocate me. The amalgam of hundreds of odours mixed violently into ever new
and changing unities as the smoke rose from the cauldron. It was within that
smoke that I saw the iridescent spectre of evil, the face of death, mocking me
cruelly as these women stood again and danced with inhuman delight, laughing,
cackling, screaming! Each woman's voice rose, clear and unfettered by sonic
physicality. Rather than cacophony, I heard each sound rise and engulf my
body, then fall again to the earth on which these women clearly had much
    It was Valeria and Abigail who both took a vial of that potion which
assaulted my every sense. They walked slowly together to the nearest inn and I
followed at a safe distance, my curiosity overwhelming my preservation. There
they joined a large group of merrymakers, Virago, Malorn and Crowe being only
part of this large and drunken group. Into the drinks of Crowe and Malorn I
saw the two women each slip just a single drop from their vials into the
glasses of those men who, too intoxicated with joy and drink, were not aware
of the witches actions. Only I saw the men drink their ales and look suddenly
upon the face of Virago to find themselves no longer intoxicated by drink, but
by love! And only I saw the look of pure delight which passed between Valeria
and Abigail, in their silent partnership.
    I will never forget that scent, even days later I was still completely
overwhelmed by it. Whenever the memory of it rises up too deeply within
myself, I find that almost without my knowledge, I clasp my body tightly,
finding little comfort in my arms. I have smelled evil, a bright and
unrelenting evil wrought by women whose spirits are not encumbered by the
burden of humanity. Justice, conscience, God, joy, humility, pain, love -
Christian religion and emotions not retained by these black-hearted women. For
them, they are confused and slandered, these emotions are a great mystery to
    I know for my words I will die and, although I fear death, I know that I
will ascend unto heaven and there have no fear of ever seeing these women
again. God comfort me and give me the strength to endure the violence of these
creatures who I know will show me no compassion. I only hope that my words are
not in vain. I only hope that Virago will be found, safe and unharmed. I only
hope that my story will be heard and not forgotten.
Legendary Times is published by the gods of LegendMUD. Please send all
replies/additions to 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.
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