............./ / THE LEGENDARY TIMES
........../ /...../ /./ \.../ /./ \...../ \
........./ /...../ ___/./ ____/../ ___/./ __. \.../ /\ \
......../ /...../ /_.../ /....../ /_.../ /..\ >./ /./ /
......./ /...../ __/../ /____../ __/../ /.../ /./ /./ /
....../ /_____/__/__../ \_\ /./ /__../ /.../ /./ /_/ /
...../ / /./ /./ /./ /.../ /./ /
..../ /_/..\______/./_____/./__/.../__/./_______/ MUD
.../________________/ running on mud.sig.net 9999
VOLUME SIX, ISSUE THIRTY-SIX September 7th, 1999
TABLE OF CONTENTS
NEWS & REPORTS
- The Immortal Report -
- Stock C(h)ar Pkill Tourney -
- Crusades Installed! -
- Announcements -
- The McDougan Report -
- The Ritual of Change -
- Aisha's Party -
- A Strange Voyage -
- The Tale of Lujan, Part 4 -
- The Wind Strikes -
- A Dark Confrontation -
- Cenja Comes of Age -
- Who? -CLeo interviews Abigail -
\ |------------------------------------------------------------------| /
/__| UPCOMING CALENDAR OF EVENTS |__\
[All times are system time unless otherwise specified]
-<*>- -<*>- -<*>- -<*September*>- -<*>- -<*>- -<*>-
Thursday, September 9, 7:00 pm Q & A in OOC Auditorium
Friday, September 10, 6:00 pm Trivia! with Gondar
Thursday, September 16, 7:00 pm Q & A in OOC Auditorium
Thursday, September 26, 7:00 pm Q & A in OOC Auditorium
Saturday, September 28, 2:00 pm Stock C(h)ar Pkill Tourney
\ |------------------------------------------------------------------| /
/__| NEWS AND REPORTS |__\
The Immortal Report
Zandy enabled a couple of people, archived a bunch of people, and handled a
couple of descriptions. He also worked on some internal staff policies.
Chocorua did online stuff, including pkenabling and talking with people about
Sandra put in some last minute tweaks to Pittsburgh, and toyed with the
resets a little, getting it ready for install. She did a small walkthrough on
malta and gave comments to Kae, helped LadyAce with some small bugs in
Crusades after it was installed, and fixed some bugs/typos in ireland,
sherwood, beowulf. She sorted the bugs, ideas, and typos files, spoke with
Croaker, Kae, Kheldar, and Cheyla about their areas/progress.
Croaker made adjustments to Greece based on suggestions from Wraith and
Sandra. He added helps, forage, housing to Greece. Cheyla did more work on
Alaska, finishing the last little bit of a quest and some fight acts. She did
a couple restrings, unarchived one or two people, talked to a couple people
who thought they were having problems with quests. Chimera tested Greece,
aiming to finish up soon. He put in some work on Cheyenne, mostly workin on
roomdescs now, and starting in on his quests.
Flagg put in some area updates, rewrote Phylegas, tweaked Kiera, a few minor
things here and there. Started adding a few new rooms to the HOL, for the
next expansion, started testing more replicas. Joule volunteered to help
test Rusalka's update to Tudor, but put most of her Legend time into PR
work. Kae added a few mobs, and rooms, and tweaked, tweaked and tweaked
Malta, preparing it to go into testing.
Kheldar concentrated on coding his final quest and testing it. He did the
normal answering of questions and discussion of building ideas with various
people, and put in some time working with the coding dept on some building
code bugs and feature requests. Rusalka did some optimization/adjusting on
her acts, put in weather, disguises, and forage into her Tudor update.
Vannessa organized her area for development.
Ea! worked on pkok, fixed a major memory leak which Huginn found, fixed bugs
with repair and with dropping items, and worked on setting up the new mud
Chocorua revised his project (re-writing the areas command) to prepare it for
adding to the main mud. Rufus did some discussion on skilltrees, and worked
on the code for skill improvement/atrophy, and worked on more groundwork for
adding the actual skills. Snapper fixed the bug where casting dispel magic on
a charmie makes them agg to you even if you're not pke , and fixed some bugs
in area files.
LadyAce did an LT from last week and one for this week, and a Q & A. She did
her normal round of strings, restrings, and a whole lotta descriptions. She
talked with players, topics included my area, the imming process, how mortals
can contribute to areas.
Chimera did a few descs, a few strings, a few restrings and a question for
token. He talked with a few newbies about their first impressions. Joule
archived some people, did the usual strings and stuff, and worked on her new
game. Spencer ran a trivia test on James Bond movies, which was very
well-received. He also did some strings and re-strings for folks this past
week or so.
Stock C(h)ar Pkill Tourney
On Saturday, September 28, at 2:00 pm, LegendMUD will be host to the first
ever Stock C(h)ar pkill tournament! This is a bit of an experiment, but
here's how it'll work. You register for it by sending in your name to LadyAce
on mudmail by midnight of Friday, September 27. She'll prepare a special and
identical playerfile for each entrant -- level 50, with a selection of
weapons and items, all skills, all spells, same cast levels across the
board. The tournament will proceed on a single-elimination basis (one death,
you're out) with randomly assigned pairings, until a single champion
The idea is that this kind of a contest will be based on pure individual
skill and mastery of the fight system and pkill feature as a whole. Everyone
is welcome to participate. This tournament will also include the "instant
restore" feature premiered in the last tournament, essentially allowing your
file to be refreshed within seconds, meaning it should be less talk and more
LadyAce recently completed and installed an area based on the Crusades. It's
traditional to include the help files in the LT, so here's an introduction to
In different forms, the Crusades lasted more than 500 years, as Christians
from Europe tried to establish various forms of control over the holy lands.
You can visit several sites and visit a variety of historical figures,
Acre, or Akka, the so-called ``Key to Palestine'' was under siege on two
sides and blockaded on the other two sides by European forces when Saladin's
jihad army surrounded the sieging army and made the siege far more
complicated. The siege itself lasted more than two years, ending with the
withdrawal of the Muslim forces and the surrender of the city, when the
European effort was revitalized with reinforcements and renewed interest from
the West, in the person of Richard the Lionhearted.
Al-Amut fortress, in Persia, was impregnable for more than a hundred years
until finally destroyed by the Mongol Hulagu. From this fortress, assassins
were sent out to kill the most powerful men in the world, and they seldom
failed. The leader of the sect, Grand Master Assassin Hasan-i Sabbah, came to
be known as The Old Man of the Mountain, and is reputed to have stayed in his
fortress for 35 years without leaving except for twice to pray on the roof.
Historians have debated a great deal as to the motivations of the Crusaders.
Were they driven by bloodlust or piety or a sense of adventure or desire for
dominion? Their conduct bears out this unsettled debate, for they performed
great acts of butchery but also of courage -- they showed perfidy but also
devotion. One cannot help but believe that they were not so different from
people of today. Some acted with good intentions and others with bad, some
for purity and some for sin, and many, caught up in the events and emotions
of the age, simply flung their lives into what was one of the most
significant series of events in history.
Antioch, a fabled city of antiquity, had existed for about 1400 years when
the first Crusade arrived in 1097. The population at that time was almost
entirely Christian, although the governorship was in the hands of a Turk,
While Baldwin of Boulogne pursued his ambitions in Edessa and Tancred of
Taranto pursued his in Cilicia, the remaining leaders in the central army,
Raymond of Toulouse, Bohemond of Taranto (Tancred's uncle), and Godfrey of
Bouillion set up a partial siege outside Antioch, each of the three leaders
setting up camp around one of the cities many gates. The siege dragged on
for months, and the defenders had gardens and even grazing lands within the
city walls to keep them fortified. The starving Crusaders held on to their
positions, but the army began to slowly disintegrate and desert.
Salvation came in the form of a traitor. A discontented Armenian named
Firouz, who had converted to Islam, contacted the Crusaders. On the second of
June, 1098, the army marched eastward, then turned around in the middle of
the night and stood again outside the walls of Antioch just as dawn was
breaking. A ladder was lowered from the Tower of the Two Sisters, and sixty
knights scrambled over the wall, raising the Christian population, and
opening the gates to the Crusading army. The army poured into the city,
cutting down Turks as well as Christians in the confusion.
The city remained in Crusader hands until 1268, when it fell to the Mamluk
Anatolia is the name given to the region which is now Turkey and Armenia,
characterized by a ring of high mountains and cliffs surrounding a central
plateau. The region was originally inhabited by the Hittite peoples, before
being settled by Turkik nomads from central Asia and eastern Europeans.
I hope you enjoy exploring my creation!
o O | Wonder what folks are |
`\|||/ | doing over at LegendMUD?|
(o o) \________________________/
\ |------------------------------------------------------------------| /
/__| LEGENDITES: Information Regarding the People of Our World |__\
A lone arrow strikes into one of the local doors in London, and attached to
it is a blood covered note. The note reads as follows.
Grendels, hear me now, I have watched you for some time now, and I will
stand for your actions no longer! A long time ago, you overtook our
clan, you did this in a cowardly fashion, when we were at an all time
low. Now is the time for vengeance! I care not about our houses or our
money that you so ruthlessly stole, what I seek is a prize much greater,
the once great power behind our clan, the sacred Book of Iscariots. Give
it to me now, and your lives shall be spared. Deny it to me, and suffer
my wrath by your own choice. You have one week to decide.
<-> <-> <-> <-> <->
Two new RP clans, Iscariots and Mages of the Silver Circle, have
<-> <-> <-> <-> <->
References for one Marcel Alexander. Respondees should address general
character, conduct, and any other pertinent details. Please mudmail to
The McDougan report
Thish week we interview Hashtur McDougan. Hooever, we couldnae find him,
sae I made it up...
McDougan: Wha' is ye name and occupashun?
Hastur: Hashtur McDougan, deliverer of fleash
M: Wha' is ye favourite meal, haggish or haggish?
H: I tink I musht chooshe haggish.
M: Aye, ye're right, ye musht. Anyway, Wha' is the mosht embarrashing thing
tha' happened tae ye?
H: When I became a merchant, wore troushersh and embarrashed the entire
clan, for which I am eternally shorry.
M: Guid. Ye should be. Why dunnae ye write?
H: Ash I am a lowly worm.
M: Aye, ye be. Wha' nashionalitchy are ye?
H: Weel, I should be shcottish, but I've coonverted tae English.
H Joosht kidding.
M: Ish it true ye get ye kiltsh from parsh, wi' ekshtra lace?
H: Aye, it ish.
NOTE: Hashtur may in fact be much nisher than deshcribed herein.
Ash feer the resht of the report, Pictland wash ekshplored by me thish week,
it made me rather homeshick feer auld Edinburgh guttersh. Ye hed besht get
them ready tae moove intae, ye building typesh! Or I shove a claymore up ye
- McDougan (Thalgenael), Patriarch and Guiding Shpiritsh (and drinker
thereof) of the McDougan Clan
Ritual of Change
Static crackled above the oaks in the druid garden. Light played over the
blue cloth draped across the altar.
The processional was solemn as we took our places around the blessed
objects. We had lost one of our clan to the forces of the Cult of
Enlightenment. If she was ever to return, we had to succeed in the difficult
Ritual of Changing.
As the High Priestess drew the circle around us with the sacred golden
sickle, I wondered if I would ever again know the joy of Carmencita's
presence in our clan. Trees rustled gently around me as I prayed for her
safe return. I could almost feel her presence in the sounds of nature that
surrounded the small grove where we gathered.
We called on the elements, the four directions, and on the God Hu Gardan and
Goddess Badb to help us in our quest. It may have been my imagination, but I
thought that as I spoke my part in the incantation, I saw a kestrel fly
overhead. Perhaps the gods were watching...
I got a little dizzy as the incense smoke poured out of the Pelen Tan I
held. The copper orb, lit from within, wriggled in my grasp as I waved it
frantically. I tried to clear my head and spread the smoke over all our
offerings and around the holy place. As the smoke wafted over us, the forms
of my companions became ethereal shapes in the summer breeze. Strangely,
there seemed to be one more shape than there were people.
As the smoke took hold, I swayed and watched dreamily as the ritual
I started digging into the ground with my toe, then pushed mounds of earth
out of the way with my arms to make room for the box that was to bury the
enmity between us and the Cult of Enlightenment. It was a big box, and we had
filled it to overflowing with vervain. The high priestess added a blue beryl
to the box, and we buried it. May the Enlightened Ones now be silent -Let
their bitter tongues be broken!
A little parsley gathered on the road turned into a crown with some doing.
Usually, I give these to travelers who need strength along their journey, but
today I offered one up to the Gods to give us the strength to do what is
right and follow our chosen path.
Jessamyn walked out of the mist and gave a branch of an oak tree, to bring
us calmness and strength..
Lewan gave a branch of rowan to the gods; a most appropriate offering.
Mice gave a seashell of flowers, whose scent perfumed the hall and brought
peace to us. Also, she provided a golden acorn and sacred silver apple for
aid in Carmencita's return.
We drank the wine at the proper time; mixed with the incense it had a heady
effect on the senses. The offering we made to the Gods sank into the ground
immediately. I had a vision of the oak's branches sinking closer to the
ground as we continued with the ritual of wine and bread. I stood rooted to
the spot, feeling in complete communion with the earth.
We ate the crescent cake and ended the ritual with a happy feast. My home
has rarely seen so much happiness and joy as after that offering to the
Goddess. My hope is that we will see Carmencita again soon, and then we can
have a joyous occasion to give our best to the Gods.
Wherein are depicted Duals of Honor, Events Most Peculiar are discussed, and
Clovis doth make a Special Guest Appearance
It all started at a party. Many things start at parties, few of them end.
Aisha was throwing a party to which all were invited.
Like most parties, some of the guests drank too much. Or at least STR seemed
to be; it was the only civilized explanation for his behavior. After loudly
demanding food and drink, he proposed to spend the night with the hostess and
as many female guests as would fit in her bedroom. Mitra and Fear were quite
amused, especially as STR didn't seem to have bathed recently, but Sterling
was not. After several attempts at civility, he attacked STR to defend the
ladies' honor. As STR and Sterling ran back and forth between the various
rooms of Aisha's house, the guests followed after, all the better to observe
the spectacle. Sterling finally killed STR, only to have the favor returned
when STR sniped him through the front door, whereupon Aisha restored order to
her party by killing STR.
The topic of conversation then turned to the mysterious disappearance of
Aisha's father, the Sultan, some months back. Straussy had thought that he
had seen Sterling dragging a body through the streets of Zanzibar one night,
but he wasn't sure. STR was. He explained how Sterling had in fact taken the
Sultan into the Crypt of St. Denis and left him there entombed, while Fear
passed around photographs from London that depicted a Sterling with glowing
red eyes. STR and Fear had seen the Sultan's body in the Crypt, they said,
and they could prove it. If Aisha would care to come with them, she could see
the body too.
Aisha could scarcely credit their slanderous story, but wanted to settle the
matter once and for all. Yes, she would come. And with witnesses. A few of
her guests, Straussy, Trevor, and Mitra, agreed. And so the assorted party
set out to the Crypt of St. Denis. Along the way, they met B-O-B, who joined
them in their Search for the Truth.
Down in the catacombs, under the great Cathedral walls, they opened
sarcophagus after sarcophagus, but saw nothing but dust. Just as they were
deciding to turn back, STR and Fear called out from a far corner. Here was
The Body, they cried. The party gathered round the corpse, but it was so
badly decomposed that no features could be discerned upon it. As Aisha and
STR debated the finer points of the forensic evidence, Straussy suddenly
collapsed. He has complained of feeling poorly for much of the
journey...particularly after they had battled a torrent of rats in the
Alas, his malady was unknown, and neither Mitra's magic nor Trevor's potions
could bring relief. Aisha begged Straussy to stay awake until they could find
a doctor. They rushed back up into the sunlight, bearing Straussy on a
magical litter of blue light, as STR and Fear berated them for their apparent
lack of concern for the fate of Aisha's father.
They had almost reached the famed Dr. Le'Cheir when B-O-B became quite
agitated. "Bob fix!," he cried, and pointed to Straussy. "How," Aisha asked,
while inwardly guessing how much time they had before Le'Cheir's office
closed. B-O-B took a deep breath. "Straussy miaka snore 3 gannas," he
explained. The party gaped. What precisely was a ganna? After much guessing,
they decided that it had something to do with Straussy sleeping for three
And so they lay Straussy in a glade sacred to the Goddess. B-O-B brought out
a not so clean handkerchief and rubbed some pungent salve into it.
Carefully, he wrapped it around Straussy's neck. Straussy screamed and
suddenly jumped up. "You fools," he cried, "You FOOLS!" He threw down his
Coin Headdress and seized the Crown of Clovis, placing it on his head. "I am
Clovis," he declared, "King of the Rats!" Muttering the name "Rosetta" he
fled from the glade. Fearing the for safety of Straussy's daughter Rosetta,
the party chased after him. First to the Stag, where he swung his daughter up
into his arms, gripping her tightly.
At first joyful to see her father, Rosetta was soon terrified. Why was her
father acting so strangely? And why was STR imploring Straussy to listen to
"The Voice" and handing her father a dagger?
Ignoring the pleas of his friends, Straussy, holding his daughter fast,
dashed away with STR and Fear. And when Aisha and her party finally found
him, it was in STR's house. There, Straussy had bound his daughter fast and
was holding the dagger to her throat. STR was triumphant. Very soon The Voice
would be obeyed. He urged Straussy to act, while Aisha pleaded with him to
spare his daughter's life. For a moment, he did waver, whereupon Rosetta
slipped her bonds and began to play "Ave Maria" on a tambourine. Perhaps that
would bring her beloved father back to her. And it might have, except that
Straussy suddenly jumped up, yelling "Mother!" Suddenly it came back to him.
His mother was dead because his village had been burned by a Coven member, a
Hermetic, and a Knight. Vengeance would not be denied! There was nothing they
could do to persuade him otherwise; all they could do was take his daughter
into their protection.
Now, in the midst of all of this, B-O-B had slipped away from the main group.
He knew exactly what to do to restore Straussy. "Looga 3 gannas, kros
foruga," he cried, but no one had listened. So he implored them from afar,
and finally they did come, and he led them to a burning forest, where he
again announced "kros foruga!." And there Sterling retrieved a fragment of
the True Cross, and they returned to Straussy, who was furious that they had
taken away his sacrificial daughter. Aisha waved the fragment of the True
Cross at him. "Take it," she begged, "You are a soldier of the Good." And
finally he did, despite all the pleas of STR, and held it, was transformed
back into the Straussy they had known so well. Gone was Clovis' crown.
Engulfed with remorse for what he had nearly done, Straussy offered his
sword Bleh! to his daughter. He had betrayed everything that he believed in
and was no longer worthy to wield it, he cried. But they persuaded him
otherwise, which was fortunate, because STR, enraged at being thwarted,
suddenly attacked. And so the two fought for many a death and day, for STR
insisted that it was "not over"!
But the party was, and what a party it had been. As Trevor pointed out, most
folks only had Scrabble, or backgammon at their parties. Aisha's
entertainments had been far more diverting for all.
A Strange Voyage
Beardless, Guapo sets sail on a mission to hell. This boucanier with a
broken spirit floats down the Acheron on the Morgan's Revenge. Grief
stricken at the loss of his only daughter, Guapo is prepared to give up his
life of adventure on the high seas. He seeks to join her in hell where
together they might cause a last bit of mischief.
Guapo searches for her fruitlessly among the wrathful souls. Unable to find
her, due to sheer numbers, he goes to the philosophers for advice. As usual,
the philosophers are of little assistance. Thanking them with his sword for
their help, he proceeds to the lair of Plutus.
Guapo yells, "Where be ye, Plutus?" A voice answers, "What do you want here,
you pathetic pirate?" Guapo replies, "I be here for me daughter, Mally." The
voice booms back, "Her soul is mine, begone." Unphased by the booming voice,
Guapo asks, "Would ye care to wager for her soul?" Plutus phases into
existence, and peers at Guapo. "Her soul is mine, what do i have to gain in
such a wager?" "A soul for a soul," Guapo replies, "Me soul for hers. Be ye
game?" Grinning evilly, Plutus says,"Done, choose your game, fool!" Guapo
grins mischievously, and says "Tablero"
Guapo pulls out a few casks of rum he picked up at the Inferno Bar & Grill
for just such an occasion. Plutus summons up a small board with a 7x7 grid,
seven shot glasses, and a pair of dice. Guapo fills the glasses and they
begin to play. The first few games go quickly as the opponents feel each
other out. After a few games, Plutus begins to win steadily, Guapo refilling
the glasses after each game. Plutus continues to win, and thus drink. With
a sly look, Guapo continues to fill the glasses. Eventually Guapo's supply
of rum dwindled low, and was depleted completely.
"*Hic*" says Plutus drunkenly, "It sheems I hash won and your shoul is
forfeitsh to mee." "Ye speak the truth" replied Guapo, "but i be not ready to
give up. I've yet another proposition for ye." Guapo and Plutus confer
quietly. At first Plutus looks skeptical, but eventually he appears to be
persuaded by Guapo... perhaps it was the rum.
Plutus waves a hand, and disappears. Guapo shouts, "Where be ye, daughter
mine?" at the top of his lungs. He hears the faint cry of his daughter
calling for rum, and runs to meet her. Together they leave the underworld...
apparently Plutus thought they would serve him better alive than dead.
Perhaps he was right.
The Tale of Lujan, Part four
After the attack, the Islanders had a new found respect for Lujan and
myself. For the first time since arrival the queen spoke with us, we
approached her dais with due respect and knelt before her. "Good Lujan, your
talent with the bow was a surprise to us, you are to be congratulated for
your bravery." A guard from beside came forth and handed Lujan a bow, the
like I had never seen before; It was made from ivory and i's string was of
twisted leather. Then the queen looked at me, "You also Marador were brave,
but more than that, the man you saved was my nephew, you shall be rewarded."
The guard from her other side stepped forward and to me he gave a purple
medal, I looked up at the queen and she smiled saying, "Wear that medal in
plain view, and no man of this Island or Islands where we have friends will
I was somewhat taken aback by this, but I reckoned now was our best time to
make a move towards the heart of Africa where Lujan could continue his
training. We thanked the queen, saluted her honor guard and made our way
towards the horizon In a two man canoe, we had been told that if we paddled
for two days with the sun in our face in the morning we would reach land.
They arrived on dry land again in just over two days. The place where we came
to stop was called Saha'jin, some friends of lujan's father and myself lived
here, so we made our presence known and were offered beds and food which we
gladly accepted. While we ate Tajan the over of the house where we would rest
that night mentioned that his caravans were constantly troubled by some
jungle spirit, and that getting tools and equipment to his tea plantation had
become more and more difficult. Lujan at once became interested as the
occult, spirits and demons had always captivated him. In less than half an
hour he had decided we were going to check on this spirit.
'Nothing get a man killed quicker than bad jungle magic' Tajan warned as we
set off at a trot in the direction of his plantations, I only hoped it would
be a spirit we found and not a hungry pack of wolves or lions that would
trouble a caravan just as much. Much more I can't say for only now have we
made camp, I will write more when we have discovered what his behind the
story of this spirit.
Marador - tutor and adviser to the trinar family.
The Wind Strikes
Carefully listening to the tremors on the plane, Darkheart Harkzael notices a
potential prey having entered his plane. Borrowing from the winds of the
Inferno, Harkzael fades into thin air, floating, tracking his prey.
Tracking his prey to a sanctuary, he carefully aims and waits. Waiting has
always been a part of tracking and stalking prey, but never something that is
easy to deal with. Keeping his adrenaline down, while staying alert in case
his prey leaves the sanctuary, Darkheart waits, breath in check.
Bow, arrow, me, then you... repeating and nearly chanting it over and over,
Darkheart fights boredom and stiffness while watching every move his prey
makes. 6 hours later, his prey moves, and Darkheart sends an arrow loose,
powered by the wind of the Inferno.
It could have been the long wait, or just a slump, but the arrow fails to
incapacitate the target, only knocking him back. Crackling air also meant
that the arrowhead had its magical properties stolen before it hit home.
Cursing, Darkheart moves in for a backstab, but his prey disappears from
Yet nothing escapes his golden eyes, and soon a trail is found. Swiftly
following the trail, he realizes that it leads to a hideout. Almost deciding
to give up the prey -- as prey behind doors are nearly impossible to draw out
-- he opts for at least one try.
Although the lock was nearly impenetrable even for a thief like him, the door
lacked magical protection. Chortling with amusement, Harkzael again borrows
from the wind, sending himself through the door. Another door inside, but
still lacking protection from his wind.
Chanting the words 'vid vayu mahi ex', you feel the Power within you swell and
find that you can command it.
You feel your atoms shiver apart and phase through a wooden door.
Ruby satin sheets cover the bed, inviting and lush.
A tall bookshelf covers an entire wall of the room.
A wall-sized crystal mirror seems to allow a view into a far darker world.
A stuffed wombat from Andromeda is lying on top of the ruby satin sheets.
(Invis) Lord Marcel Alexander is resting here on the ruby satin sheets.
The blue glow around you fades and your atoms return to their usual places.
Inviting and lush indeed. Not wasting time, Darkheart stabs his
unsuspecting, comfortably resting prey, finishing the deed.
[ Info ] : Marcel has found escape in death, thanks to Darkheart.
Like the wind that leaves nothing but death and decay, and chortling like the
wind that whispers through doors, Darkheart disappears. Gone with the wind,
he thinks, not hiding his amusement.
A Dark Confrontation
The wind whipped through the open chamber of the gallery, bringing with it
the first few drops of moisture and a hint of lightning to come. Dark clouds
boiled in the sky, much like they had on such a scene not too long ago before
the bloodshed of the Dark War had gripped the world. In the small area, the
great war leader for the, Ronnie Valthalas, stood, leaning over the railing
and looking up at the skies thoughtfully. Ever fibre in his body told him
this was going to be a bad night. He hoped desperately he was wrong, for
A slight creaking noise made him whirl around in surprise. There was nothing
there but the stairs leading back down into the townhouse. Turning back to
the skies, he saw nothing. Only the blackness of void in all directions. He
mutters to himself "Damnit, he could have given me a little warning," and
looked about in the pitch black of shadow. A voice spoke from behind him and
in front of him, to his left and right, from above and below, coming from the
shadow itself, "Valthalas, you have failed me for the last time," it stated
Ronnie rolled his eyes as the voice finished. "Go blow, Darky. I'm tired of
doing your dirty work anyway."
The shadow wavered, forming into a crimson robed figure with a dark hood
concealing his features. The hood shook back and forth in disagreement. "You
can't go on without my power, Ronnie."
Valthalas snorted out laughter, "Are you kidding? You can't touch me hon,
your about as powerful to me as a puddle of dog slop. Or have you forgotten
that I'm more of a dark god than you are already? You were born that way and
never went farther, whereas I..." -- he paused to polish his fingernails on
his shirt -- "Never stop learning."
The hooded form snickered to itself, "That might be true, we all know how
your appetite led you to sucking dry half of the pantheon in Uvilos. Not bad
for the descendant of an insane farmer."
Ronnie smirked confidently, "So what's your deal? Go buzz off, worthless
The hooded figure slid forward smoothly; two hands shot out from the robes
and grasped Ronnie's coat collar as it shouted into his face. "You are not
worth anything without me! Or have you forgotten how much you need from me
already? You may know so many of the powers of the body and of the blood, but
you don't know anything about your mind, do you?! You think that you've just
'forgotten' your past, your old life. Your failures, in short." The hooded
figure let go of him as Ronnie struggled to maintain a steady face.
"You may be able to fool everyone else, even the judges of Hell, but you
can't fool yourself without my help. Or did you forget what really happened
in your village? You came home with a hero's welcome, but you still killed
them all later that night. I don't know how you even pretended to be a human
in the first place."
Ronnie flinched a little, but remained stolid as the hooded one went on.
"Every friend you've ever had, every woman you've ever loved, you've taken a
definitive hand in their death without a single look back. The princess you
drove to suicide, that elf you drove insane.. I must congratulate you, you're
the first totally irredeemable person I've ever met who was born a human.
Only recently it's taken its toll and driven you insane, and I couldn't be
happier. You played RIGHT into my hands like the little tool you are, but
you're still a failure, and I've had enough."
Raising a pointed finger and stepping forward, Ronnie began to protest and
was promptly cut off by the hooded one. "Go now, and enjoy the twisted
thoughts you should have been cursed with long ago." The hooded one waved,
and the void dissipated.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, the first lights of day reaching into the
gallery. A spritely young woman with a notable resemblance to Ronnie appeared
at the stairs. "Daddy?" she called out, a tremor of unease in her voice. "You
up here?" She walked about the room, looking up at the rafters above in case
her father should happen to drop down in some prank.
Her foot hits the huddled figure on the floor, and a weak gasp escapes her
throat. Her father, the great Ronnie Valthalas, killer of millions and the
heartless fiend responsible for countless other crimes, lay on the floor in a
fit of shuddering sobs as the floodgates of his past opened and drowned his
The Awooga Corner
After a lengthy absence, I have returned to contribute my part to the history
of the Awooga. On a recent trip, I was approached by Cenja Awooga, a
little-known member of the family. She handed me this letter and requested
that I arrange for its publication. She was a lovely girl, but she seemed
quiet, detached somehow. I was quite intrigued by the letter's contents and
the opportunity to learn more of the Awooga. I believe you will be intrigued
as well by this candid and frank discussion of Awooga family life.
To whom it may concern:
I just turned sixteen years old, so I guess you could say I've grown up. I
once was a nice little girl, the apple of my parents' eye. I sometimes
wish I was still that little girl. There are so many nice lies that adults
tell you, lies to make you feel better. They most likely wouldn't call
them lies, but that's what they really are, no matter why they are told to
the little kids of the world.
One thing about growing up is, you suddenly find out the truth behind all
those nice lies your parents told you. The first lie I discovered was that
there is no Easter Bunny. I was crushed. There is no Santa Claus either, nor
the Tooth Fairy. I haven't asked, but I bet that the Cadbury Bunny doesn't
really cluck like a chicken.
Another lie I uncovered is about my parents. I was brought up to believe
that they loved each other and got along really well, but I can see now that
it's not true. Lately when they are in the same room they don't talk to
each other, there's just a big silence. Either they don't say anything
at all or they talk about the weather and other useless things.
It makes me sad to see it, Mom and Dad so unhappy. I don't suppose
there's a thing I could do about it either. I can't make the Easter
Bunny real or my parents love each other. I just wish I'd known sooner how
things really are. I also wish they'd patch things up. Either that or
just meet other people. Of course, it's a bit late for Dad now. He thinks
he's going to some "other plane" soon. Another lie to make me feel
better, a lie so he doesn't have to say he's going to die soon.
So far growing up just hasn't been what I expected. I guess I'm going to
find out more about what it's like too, because I just found out I'm
pregnant. (I'm not going to write the name of the father here because I know
my dad will kill him if I do.) I've been told that motherhood is wonderful;
we'll see if that's a lie too.
/ __ __ __ __ __ ______ WHY? WHERE? /
/ / / / / / / / / / / / __ / WHEN? /
/ / / / / / / / /_/ / / / / / WHAT? WITH? /
/ / / / / / / / __ / / / / / /
/ / \/ \/ / / / / / / /_/ / We've got the answers! /
/ \________/ /_/ /_/ /_____/ /
/ - By the angel CLeo - /
For you this week... Abigail MacDuff. A nice person I met a long time ago
here on LegendMUD.
Enjoy the reading!
Name: Abigail MacDuff
Occupation: (none currently)
Q - 'What is your favorite kind of music?'
A - 'Any sort of soft melody will do.'
Q - 'If you could go back in the past and talk to someone who passed on, who
would it be?'
A - 'My father. I was very young when he died, protecting our home. I never got
the chance to know him as my sisters did.'
Q - 'What would you compare yourself to?'
A - 'I would compare myself to some sort of cat, perhaps. A cougar or even a
tiger; Protective and unpredictable.'
Q - 'What is your favorite meal?'
A - 'I've become fond of quiche. They make an excellent dish in Paris.'
Q - 'What would you say is one of the worst nightmares you ever add?'
A - 'My worst nightmares were not dreams at all, but instead, reality. Finding
out that my sister, with whom I was very close, was murdered. That was my worst
Q - 'If you could build yourself a dream house, what would it look like?'
A - 'It would look just like my home. At least, the home I remember. I've not
returned to Erecourt in years. I know not what it looks like now.'
Q - 'If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go?'
A - 'I've traveled many places, and seen many things. Some of which I regret,
and some I would care to see again. I would travel back to my younger years,
when my family was whole.'
Q - 'What do you think of Ainur?'
A - 'Quite the flirt, I'd say. He should consider himself lucky none has removed
his head from atop his shoulders for such behavior.'
Q - 'If I could grant you a wish, what would it be?'
A - 'My sister's return. I miss Isobel greatly. Her death haunts me still.'
Q - 'A few words of advice for our readers?'
A - ' Protect thy family, at all costs. And cherish it. For one day, when least
you expect it, they will be gone.'
Legendary Times is published by the immortals of LegendMUD. Please send
all replies, additions, or corrections to our address at firstname.lastname@example.org
for inclusion in the next edition. We, however, reserve the right to
moderate this discussion, and may object to some submissions.