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VOLUME SIX, ISSUE SIXTEEN                                 April 17th, 1999
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                             TABLE OF CONTENTS

          -                  The Editor's Note                       -
          -             Upcoming Calendar of Events                  -

                                 ARTICLES
          -                   Did You Know...                        - 
          -                So-Called "Info Spam"                     -
         
                                LEGENDITES
          -                   Announcements!                         -
          -                  PKill Newsflash!                        -
          -                 A Letter to Eclipse                      - 
          -                       Deja Vu                            -
          -                 A Tale from IggyPope
          -                    Confrontation                         -
          -            Who? -- CLeo interviews Marcel                -

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\  |------------------------------------------------------------------|  /
/__|                         EDITOR'S NOTE                            |__\
   '------------------------------------------------------------------'


Hello All,

One hot topic this week online has been that of pk interference, in
particular non-pkenabled healing of pk-enabled players while in combat.
I'd like to clear up a few misconceptions on this topic, by turning
this space over to Sandra. As Head of Administration, she deals most
directly with this subject.


                                       Love to all,
                                       LadyAce


                              Pkill Interference

Recently, there have been a large number of posts on news board
regarding the subject of pkill interference. I thought I'd take this
time to explain exactly what those two words are to me, as an
Administrator. Pkill interference, at its simplest, is stepping into a
pkill situation without the risk of pkill upon yourself. This could be
several things, however.  Most noticeably, recently it has been with
regards to healers in groups of mixed (nonenabled and enabled)
characters.

The staff has rules set up to deal with interference when there is a
complaint of it, and there are several that come in spurts. However, as
many complaints that we get regarding these situations, there are
usually very few punishments issued for the complaint. People may ask
why this is so -- my best response would be that once the information
is gathered, be it in a log, from everyone there, what have you, we
then look to see how many times the accused healed the pkiller.

Generally, two or three operates will be considered accidental in a
large group, such as those that go to Shadowlands. Less though, for a
druid, as there are more steps to augmenting a poultice and applying it
than there is to operating on a person. We don't swoop down on every
complaint and force clan all those that were complained against. In
fact, in the years I've been an immortal, I can count only 3 healers
that were force enabled, and 2 other people that were either deleted or
force enabled for their interference. That is a very small number.

We do take these situations very seriously, and we do weigh the
information from all sides before coming to a conclusion. The
administration staff is not going to force enable someone for an
accidental operate command going through before they could type in the
clear command.

-Sandra

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\  |------------------------------------------------------------------|  /
/__|                    UPCOMING CALENDAR OF EVENTS                   |__\
   '------------------------------------------------------------------'

         [All times are system time unless otherwise specified]

         /^\/^\/^\/^\/^\/^\/^\/^\April/^\/^\/^\/^\/^\/^\/^\/^\

Sunday,    April 18,  3:00 pm  - Gigantic Flag Hunt!
Thursday,  April 22,  7:00 pm  - Q & A in the OOC Auditorium
Saturday,  April 24,  3:00 pm  - Masked Ball & Mystery TinyPlot
Wednesday, April 28, 10:00 pm -  Skills & Spells Recalltag
Thursday,  April 29,  7:00 pm  - Q & A in the OOC Auditorium

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/__|                          NEWS AND REPORTS                        |__\
   '------------------------------------------------------------------'


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   _____       
  /  _  \     
 /__/ \  \     DID YOU KNOW    ...  you can learn interesting and
      /  /     useful information about an area by typing:  
     /  /   
    /__/       help 
    __         
   /  \        Most areas have these helpfiles -- check them out today! 
   \__/       
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=


                          So-Called "Info Spam"         


When I found Legend, ever so many years ago, it was a pleasant and
happy place for a number of reasons. Corpse Retrieval requests were
always answered with a plethora of cheerful helpers, newbies were
treated nicely and helped with basic mud commands, and levels and
deaths were greeted with congrats and sympathy consistently.

Lately, however, I've seen an immense amount of nastiness directed
towards people who go to the trouble to cheer for a fellow player or
mourn their loss. I won't go into all the reasons these detractors are
idiots, but I want to tell the few people that are nice enough to
congratulate others on their levels that I appreciate it. Don't listen
to the loudest and most impolite of players too much, and realize that
many of us still appreciate your kind words of support and sympathy.

For those that don't want to hear it... let me introduce you to the
'info' command... if you type those letters in that exact order, all by
themselves, it won't bother you anymore, I promise.


-- Name withheld by request

             ________________________ 
            /                        \     
        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!

======
Clans:
======

The RP Clan Castlerock is advertising for recruits.  Our name comes
from a popular hangout in Canada where some of our members go in RL
(not from the film studio whom our name should not be regarded as
endorsing).

As our origins suggest we are a laid-back happy clan that shares
information, helps with recovery after dts, and aids members in
leveling.

We have a spacious and inviting clanshop accessible to all members for
storing their gear (but if they do so, they are expected to help defray
the costs of rent).

As of now we have druids and mages primarily.  We would *love* to recruit
some London surgeons, sharpshooters (Limans are encouraged to apply), and
general fighters (such as those from Klein).

We are purely RP -- hanging out and having fun NOT pkill.

Contact: Adso, GM, or Aris or Alejandro.


..Rumors...News...Reports...Rumors...News...Reports...Rumors...News...Reports..
                        I I       I I       I I 
                        I I       I I       I I 
                        I I       I I       I I 
                       / | \     / | \     / | \   
                       \ | /     \ | /     \ | / 
                        \|/       \|/       \|/ 
                         *  PKILL NEWSFLASH! *               
                        /|\       /|\       /|\ 
                       / | \     / | \     / | \   
                       \ | /     \ | /     \ | / 
                        I I       I I       I I
                        I I       I I       I I
                        I I       I I       I I
..Rumors...News...Reports...Rumors...News...Reports...Rumors...News...Reports..


News this week on the PK front once again includes some action
centering around the Order of the Scroll, which has clashed with
members of both the Mercenaries and the Banzai. STR was seen breaking
in to the OTS clan hall, slaying their GM, Tanzer. STR then managed to
evade death from Biggins, for long enough to slip away and out of the
hall, when a third OTS member (fleeing danger) opened the door and let
him out.

As reported earlier, the Dark Enforcers are returning to arms, with
Aginor back at the head of the clan, and Barabas close at his side. At
the time of this writing, they are not actively seeking new members,
but are accepting applications.

Diamond of Kleinstadt, having declared war on the Grendels, has been
seen killing, and dying to, Thyme, on a number of occasions. The lady
seems quietly determined to go through with her vow to battle them, on
every front.


                    {*} {*} {*} {*} {*} {*} {*} {*}

Ma cherie petite Eclipse,

I know that years have gone by since last I wrote. I pray you can forgive
my tardiness; you know that I was never as much a man of the pen as one of
the sword. I trust the years and the tender care of your sister Damia have
been kind on you. 'Twould be a waste of breath to write how much I have
missed you, and how many times I have seen your face in the stars overhead.
You know that already. I should but say that nothing has changed for me,
and that sometimes, that grieves me greatly.

My travels for the Order of the Temple have brought me wide and far in
Europe and the Orient. Many are the people of power I have addressed on the
behalf of Christ and our Cause. Long has my horse carried me, yet in my
heart, I was never far from you, the lock of your hair always at my breast.

The events that brought me away from Europe and back to the Holy Land once
more fortunately seem to have calmed down some now. We have re-established
our strongholds of Acre and the surrounding fortresses. That means my
immediate presence at the battlefield is no longer required. Very well that
'tis so, too, as I am no longer as young as I used to be, and I often have
caught myself fearing that my tardiness caused by age should lead to the
demise of younger men.

I shall return to Europe shortly, an older, more scarred, and hopefully in
no other way changed man. My heart tells me to seek you out immediately,
but my head tells me 'tis might not be my wisest move. Therefore I approach
you cautiously, wishing to know whether you would at all be interested in
seeing me about again. I know I have hurt you greatly in the past, and that
was never my intention, 'twould please me best to do what is best for you.

Pax tecum,
Tancred de Gisborne,
Master of the Temple


                    {*} {*} {*} {*} {*} {*} {*} {*}

                               Deja Vu


Despair...

Darkness...

Oblivion...

"Liiiiiilllllliiiiiiaaaaaaannnnnn......."

A terrified whimper escapes from the lips of the bloody, battered body
of the woman lying unconscious on the operating table in MI6 theatre
no. 1. The woman who, if the rumours could be trusted, one of their
agents had found dying. The upper echelons had ordered her to be saved
thinking to reprogram her mind and so attempt to create a 'perfect
agent'. The cold-faced individual in the nurses uniform snorts
derisively and  glances briefly at the prone form before him.
Satisfied all is well, he  proceeds towards the exit, the sound of
squealing hinges following him out into the corridor.

"Liiiiiilllllliiiiiiaaaaaaannnnnn......."

It comes to her much stronger this time, its intensity shattering her
already tenuous hold on reality.  Not so much a sound as a feeling, it
rages through her entire being, reaching to the very fibre of her soul.
Dark and terrible, the weight of its malevolence bears down upon her,
crushing her, while at the same time setting each nerve ending ablaze
... with pain? Ecstasy?  She cannot discern the difference.  She only
knows she is transfixed, helpless before the magnificent power that
holds her captive.

Flashes of light start to play across her alabaster flesh as silent
sirens herald the sudden failure of her vital life signs, the computers
attached to her body recalling the MI6 medical staff from their various
stations around the ward.  

"Liiiiiilllllliiiiiiaaaaaaannnnnn......."

"Master....," the awareness-that-is-Lilian  replies, now fully cognisant
of the dark entity communing with her.  "Master, why have you done this?
Why reawaken me?"

The body on the table jerks suddenly, tensing in reaction to the
onslaught of scorching pain that wracks it.  The
awareness-that-is-Lilian gasps as the darkness surrounding her
deepens.  

"You DARE question us?"

The Dark Lord's outrage storms through the awareness-that-is-Lilian,
searing each fibre of her being.  The body on the table convulses
repeatedly, almost falling to the sterile tiles in its furious
thrashing.

"You dare question us....?"  

Almost as suddenly as it began, the pain stops, the 'voice' of the Dark
Lord dying down to what would be the equivalent of a sibilant hiss.
With a loud SLAP!, the body thuds on the table top, once again
immobile.  "You are ours, Lilian.  Before time began, before the
perfect beauty of the darkness was marred by the disgusting taint that
is light, you were ours....."

The awareness-that-is-Lilian is still and silent, despair at her
continued existence rendering her mute.  

"Dear one," the 'voice' continues.  "You are a part of us.  Without us,
there is no existence for you....no 'life' or 'death'.  Without us,
there is nothing."

The darkness surrounding the awareness-that-is-Lilian congeals, the
sensation it projects slightly different, almost tender, gently
caressing her.

"You will be ours long after the taint has been cleansed and the
glorious darkness once again blankets the existence of all.  When you
wake, you will remember and know us...."

Releasing her, the dark presence withdraws, and the
awareness-that-is-Lilian is forced back onto the plane of existence
where the material body she last possessed still exists, the last words
of her master a dim whisper in her mind, "You will always be ours
Lilian......Beloved.......".

"Ours...."
"Ours...."
"Oooouuuurrrrrrrsssssss......"
The awareness-that-is-Lilian slams back into her physical body.....

Oblivion...

Darkness...

Light...

The silence of the white room that is MI6 theatre no.1, is shattered by
a repetitive beeping sound as the computers attached to the body on the
table suddenly come to life again.  Moments later, the doors are flung
open as various medical staff charge into the room, halting in
confusion at the apparently normal operation of the equipment sitting
by the side of the table.  The nurse assigned to the patient approaches
the table to check on his charge.  He reaches down to take a pulse, the
now perfect physical condition of the body not yet registering on his
confused mind.  Leaning over her, he reaches a slightly shaking hand
towards the place where her jugular rests.  Raising his head to look at
her face, he leaps back with a screech as his gaze locks with a pair of
deep blue eyes.....eyes that should not yet be open.....eyes devoid of
emotion.  Cold, lifeless...

It is not until she begins to sit upright that he notices the perfect
condition of her now unblemished, fully repaired body.  An amused smile
on her face, Lilian slowly begins to remove the various drips and
needles connecting her to the room's computers.  

"Well, well, well....." she breathes huskily as she turns to face each
person in the room, chuckling quietly at the idiotic expressions on
their shocked, disbelieving faces.  Grinning at the male nurse assigned
to her, she stands, placing one hand on her hip.  "I ask you, is this
any way to treat a lady?"

She indicates her unclothed state, causing the object of her attention
to blush.  

"And another thing," she asks quietly, a slight frown creasing the
smooth, white forehead.  "Where the hell am I?"


                    {*} {*} {*} {*} {*} {*} {*} {*}

                         A Tale from IggyPope

"Well kids, I've been just about everywhere and done just about
anything, and a whole lot of things I won't admit to, whatever your
granma says...

Hah, I remember that time I was sailing on the Hivernian, just
exploring when I ran into one heck of a mean sea serpent, which were
common in my day. To put it in as few words as possible, he kicked the
snot out of me, and you kids were almost cheated out of existence, or
so says my wife...  But anyhow, I eventually escaped with my life, well
beaten, and got back to Orkney, a small fishing village on the coast.

Your grandpa isn't one to muck around with his enemies, and I set to
and bought at least six dozen of the tools preferred by local fishing
interests, gaffs they used to call 'em. Back then I was a fairly tough
magician, and a mean one, so I spent about three hours animating them
six dozen gaffs until I had a legion of the things. After a bit of
healing, I set off after that accursed serpent with my horde of fishing
spears in my wake. By golly, if a sea serpent could possibly look
suprised, that one sure did.

My army of gaffs made long work of that beast, bits of scale and flesh
were flying all over the place. It took nearly an hour to finish the
oversized fish, but finally it went under the waves one final time.
Thankfully a good number of the spears were left and with their help, I
gave them fishermen one heck of a good celebration barbecue. Too bad
them gaffs just run amok after I left, spearing nearly everthing in
sight, but luckily only a coupla men were hurt...hehe, that's the
problem with the higher magics, they're a bit unreliable once yer done
with them."


                    {*} {*} {*} {*} {*} {*} {*} {*}
                    
                            Confrontation

Crashes of thunder echo through a small village, empty as rain pours
down and lightning strikes from the skies randomly. A lone figure
bunches down in front of the town well, not moving at all except for
his eyes, scanning the area for any who might be coming.

[Chat] Ronnie: So this is it, those who would cry for the end to evil
are doing nothing when the time for action has come? Fine, I will go
alone!

Rising to his feet, the figure apparently straightens his cloak, ties
his bootlaces, adjusts his hat and does just about everything else he
can think of to stretch time. Finally, he gives a resigned sigh, and
trudges toward a small path guarded by a watching post. Before he
reaches it, however, a motley group rushes up, panting as though they
have run the entire way from some long off place. A soaked woman with
violet eyes and ivory colored wings appears to be half-dragging the
others with her, which include a man who looks almost as dead as a
corpse, and another who has the disposition of a judge and
executioner.

Ronnie Valthalas Repentant says, "Glad you could make it," as he smiles
at the woman, then embraces her wet form to his own. Shaking the hands
of the other two with a thankful smile and nod, he prepares to lead
them up the path. Another comes up, strolling more casually -- an
athletically-built woman, wearing all sorts of odd jewelry and
clothing. Muttering a less than cheery sounding "Allo" in a Cockney
accent, she huddles under the roof of the post with the others, as they
prepare to trudge their way up to the castle.

As they reach the castle, almost everyone is disturbed by the
stillness. Every hall and corridor is empty of life, even though
everything is in almost perfect condition, as if a squad of housemaids
had been through not 5 minutes before. Making their way through the
castle and into the foyer of the throne room, they are stopped by a
rather large and locked door.

Ronnie Valthalas Repentant says, "Well, this is great. Anyone have a
key?" seconds before a large, booming voice cuts him off. "You'll have
to search for these keys, two to be exact, Light Blinder," the voice of
Aginor cuts in, "somewhere about the castle."

Muttering and asking each other questions, Ronnie leads them off into
the castles darker depths explaining, "He must have hidden one of them
in a crypt, it's part of his nature." Almost as soon as the last step is
taken by the ones going rogue in the group, a hulking monstrosity
lumbers out of the darkness. This abomination has only half of its
parts, while its head is a mis-shapen squarish form with blind eyes
peering from 5 different sockets. It manages to take only five steps
towards the group before it falls, moans once, and dies. A glittering
on its body draws the eyes of the judge, Tanzer Scythe, to a odd key,
tarnished silver with several bloodstones adorning it. "One more," he
remarks, pocketing the key.

Returning once more to the foyer, the group notices a rather
small-sounding voice coming from the upstairs. Going to investigate,
they find a rather handsome-looking duke peering endlessly into a
mirror, talking to himself, completely absorbed in his thoughts.

Looking up from his mirror, his eyes catch the face of Ronnie
Valthalas. Jumping slightly, he quickly regains his composure. "Haven't I
seen you around here before? Always coming and going with that shadow
fella," he remarks, before looking back into his mirror.

"Sir, we would like to know if maybe you've seen a key about somewhere?"
asks the winged woman, in a respectable enough tone. "I might have, but
I might not want to share it with you," replies the duke. "Unless, maybe,
you can amuse me for awhile." 

The angel Alexandria looks innocently startled as Ronnie starts to look
increasingly hostile.  "No, no, nothing like that," the duke smirks.
"You're bards, I'm sure you can riddle with me for a bit?" A sense of
confusion passes throughout the group, ending with a murmur of "Why
not."

"Wonderful!" cries the duke "So, riddle me this: What do dead people
eat always, but live people who eat this die slow. What is better than
all the Light, yet worse than darkest Shadow. Rich people want it, poor
people have it?

"Hrmm, well, dirt?" answers the corpse looking fellow
"Air?" replies Tanzer

"Nope!" says the duke, gloating obviously over his intelligence.

"Nothing?" asks the athletic woman, quickly bursting the duke's bubble
as he hands the key over reluctantly and with a small curse.

The group quickly returns to the foyer, and unlocks the door with the
keys quickly. The door swings open, revealing an also empty throne room
with overturned chairs and a table stained with blood and mystic
powders.

"What is this?! Where is he?" replies Ronnie, rushing into the room and
falling nicely into the transportation spell awaiting him on the
threshold.

The Graveyard of Thunderclap

Clouds scud across the sky like great sailing ships racing before a
storm, alternatively obscuring and revealing the silvery disk of the
moon, while the wind plays a cacophonous discordant melody in some weird
minor key. The smell of decay assaults your nose and an ominous
feeling descends upon you. To either side, the ground is obscured by
an eerie fog which twists and turns among gravestones like vaporous
serpents. Left and right in the distance can be seen the gaping maws of
sepultures and crypts where half-visible shapes flit and caper as in
some insane dance to the music of the wind. The moonlight through the
twisted limbs of grotesquely deformed trees sends shadows wiggling and
crawling across a white gravel path beneath a massive wrought iron gate
set in a massive stone wall which rings the hollow. The phosphorescent
path passes among ghostly white tombstones and monuments ending at a
bright yellow glow. Amid a ring of tombstones set like seats at an
amphitheater on the sides of the depression, a vast bonfire blazes
throwing back the darkness, but not quite dispelling the ominous
foreboding the place inspires.

A cackling, shadow-wrapped figure in a black cloak is here.

'So, this is my clone?' Ronnie Valthalas Repentant says.

'It is,' Einnor Valthalas says.

Ronnie Valthalas Repentant says, 'You're an aborted creation on this
world, and the foulest blasphemy to this world I've ever seen.'

Einnor Valthalas says, 'Thank you.'

Einnor Valthalas says, 'You should never have left the Darkness, 
Ronnie.'

'The darkness never held anything but pain and lies for me,' Ronnie 
Valthalas Repentant says.

'You wish to bandy words more, Ronnie?' Einnor Valthalas says. 'Hah!'

Ronnie Valthalas Repentant slits his eyes and stretches up to his full
height, eyes blazing with a dangerous wild fire.

'I tire of this,' Einnor Valthalas says. 'Have at ye!'

Ronnie Valthalas Repentant say, 'Get ye carcass off the skin of this
world!'

Ronnie Valthalas Repentant pulverizes Einnor Valthalas with his crush.
Einnor Valthalas pulverizes Ronnie Valthalas Repentant with his crush.
Einnor Valthalas sends Ronnie Valthalas Repentant to his grave with 
his powerful crush.
Ronnie Valthalas Repentant have been KILLED!!
[Info]: Einnor just sent Ronnie to the grave. 

[Chat] Aginor: I told you, you cannot stand up to the power of the
Darkness!

Ronnie Valthalas's corpse blinks its eyes, and reaches a tentative hand
up to examine the damage on his broken neck. Grimacing, it reaches its
other hand up, grips the sides of its head, and twists his neck back
into place.

Ronnie Valthalas Repentant says, 'Pah, cant keep a good vamp down.'

Muttering inaudibly to himself, Ronnie Valthalas Repentant regains his
feet, engaging his clone once more. Again they fight, and again and
again mortal wounds are delivered to the original, who laughs them off
as always. Exhausted, the clone slumps and is killed with a final
blow.

[Info]: Einnor is pushing up daisies, thanks to Ronnie.

Preparing his own spell of transport, Ronnie arrives back in the castle
in time to see his companions under assault by Aginor himself.
Together, killing him and driving him off, they retrieve the blood
which was used for the cloning.

Back at the well, Sir Rictor Belmont joins them, congratulating them on
the effort. However, Alexandria begins to doubt at whether Ronnie is
who he says he is or not. Offering any information that might be
helpful, it is apparently not enough for Valthalas to prove anything.

Rictor, always wanting to be helpful, knocks Ronnie down and sits on
his chest. "Here, sip this and see what happens," he says, digging none
other than the Holy Grail from his pack. As Ronnie takes the grail and
awkwardly sips from it, face grimacing in expected pain which doesn't
come, the others watch on in anticipation. Could he really have been
cleansing himself? Nahhh...  wait, he's okay! Ronnie hands the grail
back to Rictor, muttering something about cleaning cups of dirt.


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-=-=?=-  / / / / / /  / /_/ /  / / / /  -=-=-=-?-=-=-=?=-=-?-=-=-=-=?
=-=-=-  / / / / / /  / __  /  / / / /  -?-=-=-=-=-?-=-=-=-=-=-=?=-=-=
-=?=-  /  \/  \/ /  / / / /  / /_/ /  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-?-
=-=-=  \________/  /_/ /_/  /_____/  -=-=?=   by CLeo of the   -=-=-=
?=-=-=                              -=?=-=-  Circle of Angels  =-?-=-
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Hello!

     Here is the article for this week.  I hope that you will all 
enjoy it!  Take care!


Name:  Lord Marcel Simon Alexander
Occupation:  Aristocrat and Angel of Misery and Mischief

Q - 'What do you think of the Lands of the Shadows?'
A - 'I think I'll have to come back to that when I've actually been 
there... But sure, it keeps a lot of people entertained, and that's 
always a good thing.'

Q - 'If you would be a tool, what would it be and why?'
A - 'I think I'd be a pillow.  Lie in bed all day on satin sheets and
have beautiful girls rest their lustrous locks on my surface. I could 
be a quite good pillow.'

Q - 'What would the house of your dream look like if you could build 
it.'
A - 'Hmmm... It'd be situated somewhere off the beaten track because I 
like peace and quiet... It'd definitely have a lush garden with alot 
of roses.  A luxurious bedroom, and a dining room with a brocade 
covered desk and silver candelabras.  And of course the fireplace with 
a nice big carpet in front where one could lie down and enjoy a good 
book or a good friend's company, depending on the mood at the time.  
And of course a bar with Pepsi, blood, coffee, and whatever else my 
friends want.'

Q - 'What would the perfect evening be like if you had to invite one 
of LegendMUD's ladies?'
A - 'We'd start out with a three course dinner somewhere pleasant.  
During which we'd talk a lot, obviously - most people have a lot of 
problems they love the advice of an immortal entity on.  Then I'd like 
to take her for a walk somewhere nice and quiet, possibly the 
woodlands of Boston or in the deep forests of Ireland.  After, we'd go 
find some lake with a silvery surface and watch the moon come up over 
the darkened horizon.  Maybe the aurora borealis over Canada - I'd be 
sure to bring a bottle of champagne.'

Q - 'If you had to invent a word, what would it be?'
A - 'Awk.  The sound you make to yourself when you realize you just 
flirted with someone who wasn't your fiancee at the time she walked 
in.'

Q - 'What is the strangest dream you ever had?
A - 'Definitely waking up one morning and realizing that a mortal 
woman actually had been in my dreams that night, and that even as I 
awoke, I still was thinking of her kindly.'

Q - 'What is the best dream you ever had?'
A - 'The one she was in!'

Q - 'What would you change in the world today to make it a better 
place?'
A - 'I'd give myself the ultimate power to do whatever I wanted 
anytime I wanted and let the rest of the world care for itself.  Oh, 
and I'd give Tiki some damned intelligence.' 

Q - 'If I could grant you a wish, what would it be?'
A - 'That I could father children.'

Q - 'A few last words for the world to hear?'
A - 'There may be more between Heaven and Hell than the world and 
Horatio knows, and it's definitely a lot more interesting than them 
both.'

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That concludes another edition of "WHO?".  I would like to remind you 
that most of the people interviewed were picked randomly.  

I am open to interviewing people on requests as long as there is a 
good reason (example: the person is well known, is a GM, is an old 
legend player, is a person who achieved something extraordinary or 
other any valuable reasons).  I do give myself the right to decline 
requests if be needed, but doubt I will decline any. 

Do not forget that you may send in some questions that you would like 
me to ask to my guest.  Just take a piece of paper, write them down, 
and mud mail it to me.

Until next time...  May luck be on your path forever!
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Legendary Times is published by the immortals of LegendMUD. Please send
all replies, additions, or corrections to our address at lt@mud.sig.net
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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