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VOLUME SIX, ISSUE THIRTY-SEVEN                        September 15th, 1999
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                             TABLE OF CONTENTS


                              NEWS & REPORTS
          -                The Immortal Report                       -
          -             Stock C(h)ar Pkill Tourney                   -
          -                 Good Deeds Revealed!                     -   

                                LEGENDITES
          -                   Announcements                          -
          -                     Bewitched                            -
          -                   Last  Tuesday                          -
          -                  Violent Whispers                        -

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/__|                    UPCOMING CALENDAR OF EVENTS                   |__\
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         [All times are system time unless otherwise specified]


            -<*>- -<*>- -<*>- -<*September*>- -<*>- -<*>- -<*>-

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


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/__|                          NEWS AND REPORTS                        |__\
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                            The Immortal Report


Admin:

Chocorua helped unpurge a few chars, investigated bugs.

Wraith went through boards, warned a player for swearing, and checked the
save logs for a person who had lost their eq.


Builder:

Sandra got Pittsburgh ready for its install, helped Zandy a little with some
things for his area, to get it back into testing again, and tried to track
down a bug in Cheyenne without success.

Cheyla, despite a busy work RL, did strings/restrings/archivals, and worked a
LOT on her area to get it done for testing, and added fight acts to a couple
of her mobs. Chimera did quite a bit of work on rooms and mobs in Cheyenne,
and added a few objects as well. He tracked down a lot of bugs, and did more
testing on Greece. Croaker spent a fair bit of time working with getting his
new computer to work.

Joule helped Rusalka with her update to Tudor, and worked quite a bit on her maps
for Trans-Pecos Texas. Kae added a few objects to her area, started dealing
with comments from testers, and optimized many of her acts. LadyAce did more
descs for Klein and fixed things as they came up in Crusades.  Rusalka talked
to Joule about testing stuff and started making fixes based on Joule's
comments, and made a lot of fixes from the bugs list for Tudor.  Wraith fixed
several small bugs last week in various spots.


Coder:

Ea! fixed a few crashing bugs, made some additions to the acts system as
requested by the builders, made it so that people couldn't aim/shoot through
stone walls, fixed a problem where piles of coins showed up with the wrong
amount, and typo fixes in: weaken armor, shoot, animate dead. He also worked
some on the new mud machine.

Chocorua did more planning and design work for the areas and areainfo
command. In a small diversion from skilltrees, Rufus spent the entire week
hunting down and squashing memory bugs, resulting in a tremendous performance
boost. Thanks, Rufus!

PR:

LadyAce did the normal stuff -- talking with players, descriptions,

strings, Q & A, etc.

Chimera answered a lot of questions, did a few strings and restrings, and a
pair of descs as well. Joule spent some time on her new game, but wasn't
online as much as she wanted to be due to her testing work for Rusalka.
Natalia spent time talking with players, reading through Malta, doing
standard online duties, and working on her character pages project. Spencer
did some strings, restrings and handed out some zips.

                       oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo


                         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
remains!

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
action :)


                       oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo

                            Good Deeds Revealed!
               Catch Someone Being Good, and Tell the World

This week's report: Seth' regarding Flare...

Well, I've caught many people being nice this week, but for the most it's got
to be Flare.  When I DT'ed, I begged on my hands and knees on auction and
tells. Hardly anyone answered me except for Flare.

He dropped everything he was doing and heeded my call, he gathered around 7
pieces of equipment (which was VERY hard, from HOL and other places) also he
spent hours of time prepping charmies and assaulting mobs which would take a
group of 5 people to kill.  He sacrificed his life in Hell and got me a ring,
which I lost in that DT.

Hats off to you, Flare, keep up the good work.

-= Seth' =-


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        o O | Wonder what folks are   |
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/__|    LEGENDITES: Information Regarding the People of Our World     |__\
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                             Announcements

Iscariots disbanded this week, and the Demonic Order was formed.

                         <-> <-> <-> <-> <->

It appears that Ronnie thinks he is a Chicago mobster now, after being 
netted and sent to bedlam. He just did a quick touch up to his issued 
jacket, got a gun, and now its drivebys and cement shoes for him. By the 
way, there is a reward from the last nuthatch he escaped from, look for:

Glancing about, a nutcase in a pinstripe straitjacket goes for his gun.
a mental case mobster


                     oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo

  Bewitched, or How A Priestess Met a Kindred Spirit 3,000 Years After

Past. The ladies of the temple of Astarte lie about leisurely on their
couches, grooming themselves, renewing the kohl around their dark almond eyes
and the bright red of their lips. They are not whores - though they live to
please the temple-goers, their duty is sacred, and they are highly respected
in the community of Babylon. Fertility is life. They are holy.

Present. The almond-eyed girl looks about confused. 'Where am I?' she asks.
'Where is the temple?' I cradle her in my arms, mindful of the debts I owe,
and softly tell her the truth. The temples are gone. Great Babylon is no
longer. Empires have risen and fallen to dust in the time that has gone.

Past. The priests of the great god Marduk brings a skinny waif to the temple
of Astarte. She is barely but a child, yet her belly is swollen with life.
Her eyes are lifeless, dead, her skin pale, and it seems she barely hangs on
to her breath - her sanity long gone. 'Keep her here,' says the priest. 'The
child she bears must live.' Mitra takes care of her, compassionate, reaching
out to a fellow spirit, but finding that no soul inhabits the body. A living
corpse. Some unearthly power keeps this host's heart pounding so that the
child it bears may live.

Present. 'What are you,' Mitra demands of me, pacing my living room floor and
at the same time examining the strange textures that cover her body. I tell
her the truth once again, I know she is strong enough to not flee in fear. In
the mythos she knows, I am a desert spirit, a creature of fire and air, an
entity capable of good and evil both. And I am eternal.

Past. Whispered conversations. Mitra comes to know the spirit that keeps the
flesh alive. The boredom of the long nights is passed. She never comes to
understand it or the magic that bound it to the flesh, but she knows that
like herself, it is trapped and bound to serve.

   The waif finally gives birth, a horrible event during which her body is
broken apart and left bleeding - but the baby is healthy and strong The
priests of Marduk take it away shortly after birth, leaving Mitra with the
corpse of her charge only.

Present. She dabs purple eye shadow on her eyelids carefully, examining the
cosmetics of this brave new world curiously. 'How can I be alive after 3,000
years?' she asks. 'Why can't I remember anything?' I re-introduce her to her
favorite concoction of herb tea and explain to her that it will be better if
she does not try to understand. Some things are beyond even my understanding.
The world is at her feet now.

Past. Angry and sad at the realization that a slave is what she is and will
ever be, however golden the cage, Mitra defies curfew and flees Babylon. I
lose track of her there, before I can repay my debt of compassion, give back
some of the comfort she offered me while I kept that waif's body alive so
that it might do what it was meant to do. I do not believe I will find her
again. The Persian gods are not gentle with those who defy them.

Present. 'How many lives have I lived, Marcel?' she asks of me. 'Do I have
children? Where have I been?' I cannot answer. I tell her how her physical
form wandered into my life, unexpectedly, as if by pure chance, startling me.
And then, suddenly, at a sip of a crystal elixir, she remembered. The long
past that was Astarte's curse was forgotten, the slate wiped clean.  We are
together again. Now it is she who is lost and trapped in a future she does
not know. And I finally have my chance to repay my debt of compassion.

                     oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo



Da' Scene: Pittsboigh
Da' Place: Joe's Ice Cream
Da' Time: Last tuesday

It was a quiet day, not much shakin. Just the usual customers walkin in and
eatin their cones, talkin their talk, you know how it goes. In walks dis
bird, whole mob getup. Fedora, pinstripe suit, spats, and a tommy gun. A
tommy gun, with da cops right outside and this joker has a gun right in his
hand! Well, he raises dat thing and starts shootin the whole place up, aimin
mostly for some guy, I tink his name is Milly, or Mallino, somtin italian.
Well, da guy drops like a stone, and jokerboy is some kinda artiste, cause he
shoots his name into da wall like a regular wiseguy. Big John is gonna bust
him somethin wicked for wreckin the neighborhood, and the name "Ronnie
Scallapini" just ain't gonna be painted over. So dats it Mr White, hope thats
enough of a story.

Jimmy Olsen, Pittsburgh Press


                     oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo_oOo

                            Violent Whispers

Taking a break from the hunt, Darkheart Harkzael stood in the corner of the
Royal Stag.  Sitting in a public space was as foreign and uncomfortable to
him as sleeping on needles.  Thus it wasn't uncommon for him to just lurk
around the corner.  As he looked at bulletins for interesting prey or any
other happenings relevant to his hunt, he heard a door open.

As the Stag did not have a door to the outside, that meant somebody came
out of their sanctuary, presenting themselves as potential prey.  A quick
glance was all that was needed for Darkheart to make up his mind.

Placing his heart of darkness in the combat medic's back, Darkheart again
started his hunt.  His prey, however, was rather fast and unusually
panicky, running from inn to inn, room to room, and finally ending up at
Mistress Quickley's.  Sighing, but hoping that his prey would return,
Darkheart decided to wait.

"...guh gam rudh..."

Becoming one with the air, Darkheart faded from view.  After a little bit,
he decided to hunt new prey, borrowing the knowledge of earth.  "Wild Boar
Tavern."  Slightly frustrated at finding no prey, Darkheart entered his
meditation trance -- breathing in such a way that the body could receive
more ether from the world around him.

His trance broke as the door opened from the inside and Violence left the
building.  Quickly he followed and again stabbed his prey in the back.
Must've caught the prey off guard, he thought, as the prey seemed rather
dazed and slow reacting.  However, after a few kicks, his prey ran.

By the time Darkheart caught up, the prey had consumed a few glowing roots
(the prey's lips and cheeks were still glowing, undoubtedly having consumed
them in a hurry), recovering almost all of the damage Darkheart inflicted.
However, such would not discourage Darkheart yet.  A few more rounds, and
then feeling threatened, Darkheart quickly consumed his cured fish.  The
fish, sighted only in Scandinavia, and that can only be caught with care and
elaboration, allowed Darkheart to recover and rekindle the hunt.

The fight that followed was a rather typical one for Darkheart, fleeing and
hitting, while his opponent came after him and hit.  Numerous kicks were
exchanged, and roots consumed, forcing Darkheart yet again on the defensive.

Luring his prey into the Atlantic, Darkheart was temporarily stopped by a few
hammerhead sharks, enraged by the smell of blood.  Fending them off while
hurrying his way, Darkheart started chanting.

"... vina drva rudh..."

Consuming the ether and mana in him, Darkheart used his power to knit flesh
and bone, all the while watching the trail to his prey.  As the scent of his
prey became stronger, he went after the prey, trying to gain the
initiative.

Again caught off-guard, Violence received yet another stab in the back.  The
tide had turned by this time, Darkheart thought, forgetting that his
protective sink had long abandoned him.

"... guh lak vya .."

As those words reached Darkheart's ear, it was too late.  Stunned by the
blast of power coming from his prey, he lost consciousness, waking up only
after tens of stabs that tattered his flesh.  Although surprised, Darkheart
flung kicks at his opponent, which was again answered with another blast of
power.

Maybe the prey was sturdier than I had thought...  Darkheart now was forced
to the point where, unless he was near-certain of the death of his opponent,
he should by time to re-think his strategy. As he gave both options a thought
while tumbling out of the 3rd blast of power, he realized that his prey's
attention span was long past.

This should give me the edge I need. As his prey was no longer wary of his
back, Darkheart stabbed Violence one final time.

Your thief-like skills enable you to sneak up behind Violence, placing the
heart of darkness in his back.
Violence is suddenly silent and slumps to the ground, dead.
You receive 19600 experience.
[Info]: Violence has found escape in death, thanks to Darkheart.
You hear Violence's death cry.

Before removing his dagger from the corpse, he let the heart of darkness
consume the blood of his prey.  Only after the dagger consumed even the
puddle on the ground did he remove the heart of darkness.  Feeling the
satisfaction of his dagger, me too, Darkheart whispered, answering.



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