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VOLUME SEVEN, ISSUE NINETEEN                            August 16th, 2000
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                          TABLE OF CONTENTS
 
                          Calendar of Events

                           NEWS & REPORTS
                           Trivia Results

                            LEGENDITES

                           Announcements
                             Clan News
                 A page out of Lady Dechtire's journal
              Thoughts and Memories from Malorn MacLaren
                    The Lady Mitra: An Introduction
                       

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

        o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_August_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o

               LegendMUD Summer Odyssey continues...
            A monthlong celebration of the Industrial era.


 
        Thursday, August 17 at 7:00 pm      Q & A in the OOC Auditorium
        Friday, August 18 at midnight      Comedy Club Challenge in the
                                           Belching Chinaman Saloon

        Friday, August 18 - Sunday, August 20   -- LegendMEET in Austin, TX      
        Wednesday, August 23 at 9:00 pm    Modern History Trivia 
                                                by LadyAce
        Thursday, August 24 at 7:00 pm      Q & A in the OOC Auditorium


                  Immortal Applications are Due Sept. 1


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  /__|                      NEWS AND REPORTS                          |__\
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       An all-new Search Feature has been added to the LegendMUD web page! 

                Immort Application Forms are available from 
                          http://www.legendmud.org

                  New Immort Proposals are Due September 1

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Congratulations to the winners of this past Saturday's Industrial-era trivia
challenge!

The winner was Amairgen, who answered 14 questions correctly. Second place went
to Saron with 5, and third to Celia with 4. Runners-up were Elisa, Fatale,
Maxim, and Typhoid-Mary.

A few selected questions: (answers appear at the end of the LT)

1 - Who wrote 'The Dubliners'?

2 - What was the first country to host the World Cup soccer competition?

3 - The Treaty of Utrecht gave the island of Sardinia to what country? 

4 - Which was the first British colony in America?



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  /__|  LEGENDITES: Information Regarding the People of Our World     |__\
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                           Announcements                 


Sir Ganymede of Alderon, having recently returned to the realm from a long,
taxing war in his homeland, has since gained the age and experience to go
along with it.  As a result, he will now be recognizable this way:

long:
A bladesman in a leather jacket gazes at you in relaxed vigilance.

short:
Sir Ganymede


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                            Clan News

The Otaku clan was disbanded for low membership, leaving 20 RP clans and 11
PK clans, and 1 free spot for a new clan to form.

		     =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

It is with pride I declare Valek Dracos the newest brother of the Seven
Circles. May he reign long and infernally.

Marcel Alexander, Esquire.

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We at Angesley wish to extend a cordial welcome to those of Celtic birth and
nature.  The clan of Angesley is comprised of peace-loving decendents of the
great druids of Celtic lore and those who are of the Wiccan faith.  We are
currently seeking to expand our membership base and welcome all membership
questions and applications.  Angesley has but a small list of enlistment
credentials and requests that you be free of evil in your heart and have a
genuine desire to further the tradition of our clan.  All questions related
to Angesley and membership should be directed to our guildmaster, Deqitosv.



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            A page out of Lady Dechtire's journal

I have never discussed these events. The very thought of describing these
things, of taking this pen and inscribing these words into this clean paper,
frightens and saddens me more than I can say. And yet, I feel compelled to
discuss what I have long avoided. Now that my life-path is a positive one, I
have a new confidence. It must be done.

I was seated under a flowered tree in the garden, shaded from the hot
afternoon sun while I wrote prose in my journal, when the warrior came to
me. His sudden presence in that garden shocked me greatly; his armor was
torn and tattered from obviously sharp swords and daggers. A fine cloak of
crimson cloth barely clung to his form, ripped and muddied. One of his eyes
was closed shut by a deep gash on his forehead. His light auburn hair was
dirtied with sweat, earth, and his own blood. He was a very large man,
obviously very strong and able in the craft of war. I felt then that perhaps
I knew this warrior from somewhere, causing a wave of seemingly maternal
concern to overwhelm me.

I leapt to my feet and ran to the warrior, offering my assistance. He waved
me off and pushed me aside, seating himself heavily beneath the shady tree,
peering up at me through his one bloodshot eye. I begged him to allow me to
help him, to dress his wounds, but he doggedly refused. The warrior sighed
loudly, looking up at me.

'You are the lady Dechtire, are you not?' he spoke in a rasping voice.

I nodded. I could see the young warrior was having difficulty catching his
breath. I offered again to dress his wounds and offered him sustenance, but
he refused.

'Tell me, noble lady,' he breathed. 'Why are you not in mourning?' He was
regarding me with a disdainful look in his eye. His disapproval for me was
evident.

I looked at him, rather cold in the warmth of the sun. I was chilled by his
intent, disapproving stare. 'Why should I be in mourning, good sir?' I
asked.

The warrior snorted at my comment and chuckled, shaking his head. I felt
greatly confused. I hadn't heard a single bit of news from the war; I was a
stranger in my own home then and was not fit for a discussion of any such
matters. He paused for a moment and then raised his face to me. He regarded
me for a moment, his harsh features softening.

'You have not heard.' He sighed greatly, shoulders slumping against the tree.
The warrior suddenly looked very ill and exhausted, and I worried for his
health. The gash on his face worried me greatly. I knew that his pale face
would be irrevocably scarred if it did not receive immediate attention.

'I have heard no news to send me into mourning,' I said. 'Rarely do I hear
news of the war. My husband feels that I am too weak to hear any news of
it.' I felt very frightened then, frightened of the news that I did not want
to hear. I hardly breathed at all and my face felt flush with a nervous
excitement.

He sighed again, loudly. He turned his injured face away as a torrent of
violent, rasping coughs overcame him. 'My lady, your son... Your son is
Cuchullain...' He was having a great deal of difficulty breathing, his
breaths coming in short, violent rasps, interrupted by terrible coughs.

I was having difficulty breathing as well. My heart felt heavy in my chest
and I sunk down to the ground in a dazed state. I stared at the ground, at
the large roots of the tree the warrior was seated against. I was afraid to
look up, to face this harbinger of tragic news. I knew what the warrior
would say, I didn't need him to continue. I had always known, to be
truthful.

The warrior moved to rise up, but I did not look up to him or speak. I sat
staring, staring at the intricacies of the bark of the shady tree. I could
sense that the warrior was leaving, but I made no move to stop him. I
continued to stare at the bark until the extensive natural patterns of the
tree began to slip together and blur in tears.

After quite a long while, I looked up from the tree. I do not know how long
I had sat there, lost in the tree and my own sorrow. The sun was shining hot
on my back as it moved across the late afternoon horizon. The birds chirped
a loud, annoyingly cheerful tune in the branches above my head. I could hear
a horse drinking from a trough in a nearby pasture. I sighed and wiped my
face clean of the tears and noticed that the warrior had left something
behind.

I picked it up and studied it. It was a large, heavy, circular mass of
strong iron material. The young warrior had left a shield. It was badly
dented and muddied with earth, but I could still make out the intricate
patterns that had been so carefully carved onto the surface. I wore the
shield on my arm; it was heavy, too heavy for me to hold up.

I knew at that moment who had worn this shield. A whisper of wind carried
the answer to me, as light and fleeting as an old memory. My eyes blurred
and watered with a new set of tears as I recalled the young baby that had
been carried off to be nursed and raised by my sister. I recalled the years
that I had missed, that I had been prevented from seeing Setanta as a young
man. I recalled my husband's insistence that I was simply too weak to raise
a child of such obvious importance.

I ran my fingers over the shield and a sense of determination swept over me.
I knew then what I should do. I knew that I was meant to wear this shield in
battle. I knew that I must clean off the shield and repair the damage done.
I knew that I was destined to leave the confines of my marriage and my
husband's household and train for the great battle.

The identity of the young warrior who delivered me the shield? To this day I
can only speculate.


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Thoughts and Memories from Malorn MacLaren

It had been some time since I had last seen her... I believe I came at a
time when she had been deep in thought. It troubled me, the rumors I had
heard of what happened to her: being imprisoned, suffering beatings, and
returning to inevitably find things drastically changed. I had this
insatiable desire to know if they were true - and if I needed to exact any
revenge.

Seeing her there, the light gone from her lovely brown eyes, the resignation
in her face - seeing her like that worried me and reminded me of just how
old she was. About in her 70's as I recalled, with a couple of youth spells
cast unwantedly and carelessly by a couple of mages, to boot. I estimated
she was more like 125. Before now, I wouldn't have even believed she was 70.
But now... she looked the full 125. She looked at me with a twinkle of
delight in her eyes, at least, which lessened the burden upon my heart. I
was older than her in essence, yes, but my death and subsequent
reincarnation provided me with a younger body even if I retained the
knowledge of my many years.

Though it pained and angered me to do so, I inquired what happened. I knew
some of her story - of being engaged to Fraegis then falling in love with
Teot. Of how seemingly happy she had been with Teot and how hurt she was
when she decided to give Fraegis up for him. But much had happened since I
had gone to see her and found she had disappeared. She winced slightly as
she said, 'My story? Alright, I'll tell my story...'

I sat silently in expectation. Her voice sounded old and worn. I vowed to
myself to not say a word while she spoke, no matter how angry any of her
words made me. It would not be easy...

Mice spoke quietly, almost a whisper, 'They released me. I did not know why
at the time.' She sort of chuckled at my quizzical look and clarified, 'Who
do I refer to? The people that kidnapped and imprisoned me months ago - Teot
Naga's enemies.' I felt myself wanting to kill these enemies but contained
my growls and continued to listen.

She cocked her head to one side slightly, remembering. 'But it was a huge
relief, knowing I was now free to return home... Home to my love and fiancÚ
Teot. Home to my clan, Angesley... Home to my friends and those I would not
hesitate to call family.'

A wistful smile crossed her face... Then a faint sigh crossed her lips as
she began to shake her head. The smile faded faster than it had appeared.

She looked directly at me. 'I think I would have preferred to have been kept
in that cell,' Mice said sadly. 'At least then I derived happiness from my
hopes of returning home.' As worry and anger started to cloud my face, she
looked away.

Her brows furrowed, she related her feelings, a smile tugging at the corners
of her lips. 'I was confused but elated that they were letting me go. I was
free again...' Her eyes sparkled with intensity and her voice grew a bit
stronger. 'Free after months of being kept in that dark dank cell. Free
after months of living on moldy bread and rancid water. Free from malicious
beatings. Free!'

She paused, and the sparkle in her eyes faded. Her shoulders drooped.
'But... Reality overtook my elation quickly.'

Her voice was leaden and unusually low. I leaned in closer to hear her words
better. 'I was released with no more than I had been captured with. I had no
food, no water, and no idea of where to go. Nobody even bothered to point a
finger vaguely in the right direction. I was a stranger in a foreign land. A
foreign world, even. I looked different, talked different, even walked
different.'

I had to lean closer yet to hear her as she continued, her voice dropping to
just above a whisper, as if it were difficult for her to admit what she was
saying. 'I begged for people to help me. Unfortunately, most of my pleas
were ignored. It hurts my pride to say it, but...' She cringed slightly and
took a deep breath, then continued. 'Some people threw rotting food at me
and... I was incredibly grateful that they did so - for it gave me something
to eat, something to take sustenance from.'

Just hearing the words made me cringe. I can only imagine what it took for
her to admit that. Though the thought did cross my mind why it was so hard
and shameful for her to admit to eating garbage when she would eat those
puss worms she foraged. I thought about how I wanted to do the same thing to
those people, if not even worse, for doing such things to her. The
continuation of her story interrupted that thought and prevented me from
saying anything about it.

'I found my way out of town... for I knew I would not find my way home
begging for scraps and mercy from a merciless people. I mostly crawled
along - or stumbled along when I stood. With little food or water, not
knowing what I could safely eat of the wild fare, my hopes and thoughts of
home kept me alive.'

She sighed and said with more resignation than I'd ever heard before, 'I
almost wish I hadn't had even that much to keep me alive.'

She looked at the ceiling thoughtfully, 'Had I died there, at least I would
have been free... Though living in that cell as a prisoner, I at least had
my hopes and dreams to put a smile on my face.'

She paused to lick her lips and reached up to scratch her head. 'In all
honesty, I don't recall how I found my way home... how I came to find myself
in the Quebec inn. But I returned home to things my desperate thoughts and
dreams dared not let me think. The thoughts I did allow myself were a bit
unrealistic, actually.'

I can call it nothing but a smirk. It was an expression I had never seen
upon her face. 'I had quite obviously expected them to be waiting for me
whenever I returned but many of my friends... Were no longer about. Some had
gone exploring. Others... simply hadn't been seen in many months. It hurt,
not having familiar faces filled with relief there to greet me back. There
were some, yes, and for those, I am deeply grateful.'

She took a deep breath and mumbled something about how she understood better
how Drax had felt upon his return. I didn't catch all the words. And I
barely caught those whispered next. 'But the worst was yet to come.'

'My clan, faring all right upon my capture but not extremely well... My clan
had dwindled in numbers to the point where it almost didn't exist. T'was of
no fault of the GMs after myself, I am sure... I know not what happened, but
many of the familiar faces were gone and there weren't many new ones in
their stead.' She chuckled as she read the thought that came to my mind. 'I
would be conceited to think the dwindling numbers of Angesley had anything
to do with my capture and disappearance.'

She sighed slightly and relief flooded her eyes. 'At least Angesley still
exists. For that I am happy.'

She paused then - taking a moment to collect her thoughts. Or was it to
gather the courage to continue? 'The decline of my clan and absence of many
beloved friends hurt a great deal.'

And again, in a barely audible whisper, 'But still the worst was yet to
come...'

Tears swelled in her eyes and she blinked hard to hold them back. I searched
for the handkerchief I knew I did not have. Her words came out strained but
audible. 'The worst news I was to receive would be that...' Her lips
quivered as her voice cracked and she choked back her tears. Her hand went
to her forehead and she was able to continue, 'That of the death of Teot.'

She stopped then, trying to keep control of herself. Several deep,
controlled breaths seemed to help for her next words were less strained but
more filled with frustration. 'No one will tell me what happened, only that
he is dead.' She added quickly, 'Not that I necessarily really want to know
anyhow.'

Always somewhat clinical, she related more thoughts to me. 'I can speculate
many reasons for his death... from his capture and execution by his enemies
to succumbing to the wounds and poison inflicted upon him prior to my
capture.'

But her voice filled once again with a deep sadness. 'But the man I loved
more than any other is no more. I am left with only memories of what we had
and sad dreams of what we could have been.' As a tear slipped from her eye
and rolled down her cheek, she hung her head. Her hand wiping the tear from
her cheek followed a quiet sniffle. Another deep breath and she spoke again,
quietly. 'This has all changed me... Whereas I took much of my life for
granted before, I see it in a different light now.'

'We have all heard it and scoffed at it to a degree... Those that tout how
each day is precious... each person, moment, day to be appreciated.' A
slight snort of derision accompanied that comment. Then her tone turned
humble. 'I regret some of the bridges I burned, some of the decisions I made
in my search for happiness and fulfillment. There are a number of people I
should apologize to for harsh words I said... people I took for granted...'

As if she had just made the decision, she sat up a little straighter and her
voice gained strength. 'With all that has happened, I intend to do so...
with regards to Fraegis, especially, who I badly wronged.'

A realization seemed to overcome her, and the determined look I was used to
seeing on her face returned. 'Despite all the pain, all the hurt, I cannot
let it rule my life.'

She smiled softly, sadly. 'Doing so would be a disservice to Teot's memory.'

I spoke nothing of my thoughts regarding her story. I spent a bit more time
just visiting, helping her to get her life back to "normal". At least she's
still too short to reach the teas on the top shelf even if other things have
changed. As I took some chamomile tea down for her, a white light suddenly
engulfed her - I watched her skin grow younger and her body grow more supple
and regain the strength of youth. I had to chuckle as she sighed, rolled her
eyes, and with a wry smile, greeted Damia without even turning to face the
mischievous (but well-meaning) spell caster. Damia winked at me as I left
the room so she could spend time with Mice. Their conversation was highly
unremarkable...


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                    The Lady Mitra: An Introduction

Have I told you about Mitra yet? I didn't think so. She is really quite
remarkable for a mortal woman. It's not merely her looks, though they are
certainly not her worst assets. Her hair is long and black, and as she is of
Babylonian stock she has those large almond eyes of the Oriental girls.
Slender body, long legs, golden skin and long fingers that you just want to
feel playing in your hair and elsewhere. In fact, the only negative thing
about Mitra is her passion for the color purple, which incidentally does not
become her very well.

Back when Babylon was the trendy place to be, Mitra was a priestess of
Astarte. If I add that the duties of those more or less were to make male
worshipers feel they got something for the valuables they paid in sacrifice,
you can probably figure out how we met. I helped her escape from that place,
later on, and we've been dating on and off over the centuries ever since.

I know you're wondering. Yes, time travel is something you can learn. It
is not some dark, angelic secret that you need to join an esoteric society
and undergo dubious rites of enlightenment to master. Any or other idiot
can do it, - though any or other idiot will probably get himself killed
pretty fast when disturbing the illusions of the people he ends up with
that the world is not a magical place.

Mitra is a quick learner. She tagged along with me for a while, watching and
picking up the general idea. Then I let her loose to go exploring the eras on
her own, and hey, since she's still around she obviously has the knack for
it.

Wherever she goes, she is accompanied by Fred. Fred once went by a different
and much longer name - which Mitra couldn't pronounce - and was in my service
in the Seventh Circle of Hell. He's huge, horned, and, well, purple. Doesn't
talk much, either, but when he does, you'll find that he's very passionate
about his mistress and unusually well behaved for a demon. If you want to
see them both at their best, you can probably find them in an ice cream
parlor somewhere, surrounded by regular folks trying to pretend they can't
see Fred.

Tell them I said hi, and ask Fred not to break the furniture when he sits
on it. 

--Lord Marcel Alexander

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Trivia answers: 1- James Joyce 2- Uruguay 3- Austria 4-Roanoke, Virginia

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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@legendmud.org
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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