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| The Olympia Times times@olympia.rt.com |
| June 6, 1992 v4n3 |
| |
| |
| Turn 26 131 Players "Today is my birthday!" |
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Turn 27 orders due: Friday, June 12, 1992
Turn 28 orders due: Friday, June 19, 1992
Orders are due 6:00pm EDT, 22:00 GMT.
Questions, comments, bug reports, to play: olympia@rt.com
The number of errors in this last batch of orders was considerably
less than for previous turns. Good work! If you check your orders
for errors, there's less chance that I will screw your commands up
trying to fix them. :-) Or maybe everyone is using Scott's order
checker to proofread their orders? Whatever the case, keep it up!
Olympia's Most Wanted
Capture #38
"The fools!", he thought. Spiney Norman grinned when he
realized how easy it would be. Their alliance against the
murderers in Olympia would not be able to protect all of
them. Not that he would attack all of them, for that would
attract too much attention. He would pick on the weakest. Who
would notice the deaths of a few strangers?
Besides, this Dr. Pain seemed to make a pretty good living at
it. Yet no one seemed able to stop him. All Spiney heard
was moaning and hand wringing. It would be worthwhile to relieve
a few foreigners of the purses. Spiney felt a twinge of guilt at
killing innocent people, but pushed it aside, realizing that
these were just babes in the woods. He would not be attacking
someone who had spent their whole life in Olympia, someone who
had a lot to lose.
But how to escape suspicion? Being a member of the alliance in
good standing was the starting point. He had gone to the meeting
at "The Tangled Eel" that night, and noticed a few distinct
absences. These would be his targets. He did not want to mess
with the apparant leaders of this ragtag bunch, Brillan Damar
and Jareel the Razoress.
The next few days, Spiney spent recruiting men to do his dirty
work. His overriding concern was to not get caught, to be above
suspicion. He found some scruffy looking men at the wharves.
He paid them well to be his assassins. But the coup de grace was
posing as Fengal Algor when he hired them. Then, when anyone
asked who had hired them, they would point the finger at Fengal.
At last all was complete. Fengal's Hoodlums, as they called
themselves, found Wulf all alone in a dark alley. With ease the
five of them surrounded Wulf and killed him. How pleased they
were when the discovered that he had not spent any of the 7000
gold pieces that he had come with. Buoyed by their easy victory,
they spent the evening celebrating at "Whores R Us".
Because their master had told them to keep a low profile, they
spent most of the next day sleeping off their hangovers. Dusk
found them once again picking their way through Kircarth's dirty
streets. From the shadows, they heard the clink of coins in a
money purse. Filled with bravado from last nights victory, they
rushed out to attack another victim. But this one surprised
them by having armed men with him. His name was Antonius, and
even though they outnumbered him five to four, he fought bravely
and skillfully. It was not long before two of their comrades had
fallen. When they found themselves near the entrance to a dark
alley, they sprinted down it and lost their pursuers. They did not
get any loot out of this one, but their master would be pleased with
the prize from the first.
They didn't quite know what to do next. Lord Spiney was not
clear on what they should do with the loot. It was probably best
if they just checked into an inn and remain there for the rest
of the month.
*****
Spiney paced about nervously. This waiting for information was
exasperating. He heard rumors of the murder of a rich man in
Kircarth, and hoped that his plan had worked. But if it had
worked, where were his thugs with the loot? They should have
arrived by now. He chided himself for not staying in Kircarth
to supervise the operations. He feared his plan was coming apart.
*****
At the next meeting of the alliance members, the accusations
flew at Fengal. Everyone was outraged at his treachery. Tim
the Magician sat, but said nothing. He was at the meeting in
Spiney's place, since Spiney was out of town. Fengal was frantic,
trying to protest his innocence. The other members remained
skeptical, until Fengal proved that he could not have recruited
"Fengal's Hooldums". He was busy on the other side of town, looking
for protection of his own. Soon the questions went around the
room, and everyone had to explain what they were doing on the
first day of the month. Tim explained unconvincingly that Spiney
had been studying that day. This group of inexperienced men were
not as niave as his master hoped. Tim was getting nervous. If
everyone had an alibi, then both he and Spiney were in trouble.
By the time all the glasses were empty, the list of suspects was
narrowed down to four people, including his master. Tim thought
fast. Perhaps those giant birds that flew into town were minions
of evil. Tim voiced his hypothesis that Graendak and Razorbeak
were really in the service of Dr. Pain. Next month, a whole ship
full of armed bandits could enter from Kircarth Bay and
slaughter everyone in town, just like what happened to Wulf
and almost to Antonius. No one was convinced, but it did seem to
take the pressure off of him for the time being. Maybe he had
protested too loudly....
*****
Spiney was sure now that something had gone awry. His only hope
of recovering the gold was to dispatch a messenger back to
Kircarth with new orders. Fengal's Hoodlums would give the gold
to Tim, then become independents. When the alliance attacked his
men, they would get neither gold, nor would they know for whom
they worked. Without evidence, the alliance could not accuse
any of the four suspects without reasonable doubt.
At the beginning the next month he waited for news from
Kircarth. The worst possible thing had happened. His messenger
relaying new orders had never arrived. Fengal's Hoodlums
had been captured with the gold. They had been broken, and the
alliance discovered that Spiney had recruited them. Valuable
lessons had been learned, but for Spiney it was too late. A
seemingly perfect crime had become his undoing.
Spiney fretted, while his bodyguard trained. They would not be
enough to protect him, now that all of Kircarth was after him.
He thought about running, but knew that his evil deed would
procede him. Every posse from here to Port Aurnos would be
looking for him, not only for justice, but also for his last
remaining gold. He could not spend the rest of his short life
fleeing from the law. With the advent of the printing press, he
knew that nowhere would be safe. Cold steel would be the last
thing he would feel in his cold heart.
He felt remorse at the death of Wulf, and was truly sorry for the
grief caused to his family. It was time to return to Kircarth and
turn himself in.
Martin looked over his charges with some misgivings. He had met the lot of
them in Ilion as his master had ordered, but since then he'd lost contact
with Surripio and was uncertain as to how to proceed. The fact that none of
the newcomers posessed any money was forcing them to stop at every village
they came to, just to earn bread and water. Martin's own travelling fund
was exhausted, but at least he'd kept his charges fed and healthy.
Martin was turning over his options when one of the newcomers, Excubitor,
rushed up to him.
"M'lord, I've good news! The entertainment of the villagers went much
better than expected!"
Martin eyed this golden faced boy with suspicion. If we sold that damned
gold mask maybe we'd be able to get travelling money, but noooo Excubitor
claimed it was essential to his practicing of the Arts. Perhaps while he
was sleeping...
"M'lord? Are you well?"
Martin shook himself self-consciously. "Um, yes I'm fine. Sorry. What was
it you were saying? Oh yes, the entertainment. How 'much better than
expected'? A few silvers I suppose?"
Excubitor grinned (Martin thought, it was hard to tell through the mask)
and held out a heavy bag. Martin took the bag and glanced into it
suspiciously, and then quickly looked again as if unable to believe his eyes.
He closed it and did a few quick mental calculations... yes it would be just
enough.
"Excubitor. Gather the others, tell Praesum to gather his fellows with the
painted faces." Martin quickly continued before Excubitor could interrupt
with his umpteenth explanation of the Vigiliae Manes. "Tell them we're
moving out. We've enough travelling money to just make it to where we want
to go, and gods willing we'll be able to find Surripio. Hurry man, time is
of the essence."
As Excubitor rushed off Martin continued to brood. Just enough money indeed.
Surripio had last been seen travelling towards Summerbridge. That would be
their destination then, and gods help them if Surripio wasn't there.
Dear Uncle,
This place you sent me to to visit Aunt Trudy is truly dangerous. I just
saw the Black Knight and a bunch of his friends, all dressed in black. They
smelled really awful and did a most hideous thing. They just trampled a
single man into the ground while laughing horribly, and the man couldn't
do anything about it. All that was left of him was some splattered pieces
of body in the middle of the road. A human being would't do anything like
this, so I think he must have been a demon from the deepest pits of hell.
I hope there are some honourable knights in Cnossa who know how to handle
demons, because just a day ago a heard a rumor that he was going there.
I just hope that he won't return here because I really need a couple of
quiet months to reorganize Aunt Trudy's business.
Good luck with your mine and love from Aunt Trudy, F.
Predawn mists hung over the swamps as if to guard against trespassers. They
fought valiantly against the rising sun, till at last each of them had
been pierced through by swords of light and had died upon the beams.
Villagers slowly moved about their own business, long inured to the majestic
battle and most probably unaware of the struggle that was engaged in their
behalf each morning. The villagers were concerned about their day to day
struggle to survive, and that only dimly. Living amongst this muck bitterly
called home occupied ones time fully, but it was best to let the hands and
body work reflexively; thinking too much about the futility of eeking out
an existence in this hellhole had driven many a man insane.
For this was Summerbridge, land of swamp and wet diseases and little else.
Its single claim to fame lay in its strategic position between the northern
and southern sections of the continent. A few months each year it dried up
just enough to form the single known landbridge between the north and south,
whereupon adventurers and travellers moved through in hordes. It wasn't
known if its dirt encrusted inhabitants viewed the yearly exodus with
anticipation or resignation, and if truth be known none of the invaders
thought to care. They were too caught up in the rush to get through the pass
before the coming of fall rains closed it for another year, for no sane man
or woman would wish to winter here.
Proof of this lay directly to the west of the village. Pitched upon what was
probably the driest patch of land for several miles around was a dirty little
tent. A fine riding horse stood next to the tent, looking extremely out of
place with its clean and well groomed coat. It snorted derisively at the
dawn, stamping about impatiently. Finally it kicked against the side of the
tent, causing a yell of consternation and paid to come from within. Within
moments a figure emerged from the tent, brandishing a well rusted sword. He
stood tall and lean, almost emanciated, with a savage look about him. The
image was well served by the beard he was wearing; it was long and bedraggled,
reaching nearly to his feet. His eyes glowed with the light of insanity as
he peered about.
"Hrmph. Damned villagers snooping about, trying to steal my things!" His
voice rose to a shriek at the end of the sentence. "Stay away you hear! You
can't have me, you can't! Corin will protect me... Corin..." He turned
quickly to face the horse and smiled. "Now Corin they didn't hurt you did
they? No? Good... silly swamp folk, they're all insane anyhow, filthy
creatures raking the muck for who knows what..."
He paused long enough to pick a beetle from his beard and pop it into his
mouth, then continued the conversation. "Filthy scum, all of them. At least
I've had you to talk to all these long months, it seems we've been here
forever. Don't know if I could've kept my sanity without you here..."
Corin whinnied sympathetically. The man nodded thoughtfully. "Yes yes I
quite agree, the mud must dry up soon or... what? What's that you say?!"
The man spun about frantically, surveying the morning scene for the first
time. "Corin, you're right! The swamps have dried, we're freed!" He
frantically grabbed a saddle from within his tent and threw it upon Corin,
and promptly lept up. "Go, Corin, go! It may be a trick, hurry before it
disappears!"
Several villagers looked up from their labors just in time to see the man
fling his beard over his sholder and ride off while laughing crazily. It
was only minutes before his tiny lopsided tent had been ransacked and all
signs of the camp obliterated.
The Riddlecorner!
=================
The answer to last weeks riddle:
Oh Lord! I am not worthy!
I bend my limbs to the ground.
I cry, yet without a sound.
Let me drink of waters deep.
And in silence I will weep.
is : a weeping willow!
This weeks riddle:
It's not for the one who makes it,
It's not for the one who buys it,
It's not for the one who carry's it,
It's not for the one who digs for it,
It's not for the one puts it away,
but it's for the one who's in it...
The answer in the next edition of the glorious, free distributed OLYMPIA TIMES!
=>The riddler
Young James Resolut was lounging in the library of the Tower of Dark Arts,
thumbing through back issues of "Mage's Life", one leg draped casually over
the arm of his chair. He'd picked up a number of spells quickly and was
giving his head a rest, looking for more mundane entertainment.
Jameson, his bodygaurd, was escorted in by a page.
"My lord, please forgive the interruption.", Jameson began as he took a chair
close to the young sorcerer. He removed his thick leather gauntlets and
dropped them on the table.
"What's up, Jim-bo?" Jameson prompted, tossing the magazine aside.
Jameson rolled his eyes at the nickname. "My lord, I wish you wouldn't call
me that - give me a rank as so many of the other warriors in town are given:
captain, leftenant, seargent even."
It was James' turn to roll his eyes. "Heck -you're one of a kind, Jim! I
wouldn't dream of lumping you in with the others. 'sides, this aint no army
we've got going here... just you and the 'gaurd and the 'jackets and me. But,
if it will make you happy, I'll come up with a suitable rank for you..."
Jameson nodded. "Thank you, my lord, it will make my mind easier. But that
was not the reason I came to see you just now... several of the men have seen
undead wandering the streets."
James sat up and swung his leg off the arm of the chair. "Whaddya mean by
'wandering the streets'? Unmanaged? Uncontrolled?"
Jameson nodded. "A band of them - more than a dozen. I suspect they were
summoned by the mage Charlotte since she had raised such forces last month.
Those she sent out of the city, however. These seem to be simply... lost."
James glowered at the floor, then at the ceiling. "I don't like it, Jim. It's
unnatural. I mean, what's dead should stay dead, right? You can appreciate
that."
Jameson nodded agreement. "It was why I came to you. The Redgaurd and I feel
we can resolve the situation if you wish it."
James thought a moment longer. "Only if you feel confident. I don't want to
lose a single man to this job - it should be 100% our game. You'll be out-
numbered, so be careful. If you change your mind at the last minute, just bug
out. You know I trust you, *Marshall* Jameson."
Jameson considered the title a moment and then nodded. It would serve. If
James Resolut developed an army later, the title could always change.
"We will return these unfortunate creatures to their graves, my lord."
What was this the wily trader read in the Times? Small boats for as
little as 200 gold each? And as many as 30 of them in a month? What a
brilliant idea! Why, that's only twice the market price, and since
small boats generally aren't worth the lumber they are built with, the
buyer is stuck with a useless piece of encumbrance. Come on, Foxx,
we're not that gullible.
Kotus was weary, but was upliftd by a strong sense of
achievement. He would be the first to travel thisfar north and reach
the town of Atnos Forest. He thought of spending some time at the
tavern and perhaps meeting a comely wench. However, the town was
already full of adventurers, of a rather strange sort, though. They
all clutched large sacks of gold and looked about suspiciously,
muttering about Dr. Pain. Oh, well. Perhaps he could be the first to
reach the next town...
THE TOP TEN OCCUPATIONS FOR ENTERTAINERS WHO CAN'T MAKE MONEY
10) Public washroom attendant.
9) Spy for Dr. Pain.
8) Back-alleyy drunk rolle.
7) Gigolo.
6) Singing highwayman.
5) Medical eresearch subject.
4) Sewer cleaner.
3) Blood donor.
2) Grave robber.
AND THE #1 OCCUPATION FOR ENTERTAINERS WHO CAN'T MAKE MONEY IS...
1) Chicken sexer.
Hi,
Does anyone out there know what ore is good for or where it
can be sold? Or perhaps would be interested in obtaining some? Please
send any hints, replies or information to 1484@olympia.rt.com.
ed in Kuneak
Midnight over Olympia. The sky is clear all over the known
lands and there is not the slightest breeze to be felt
anywhere.
All is quiet in Chardia. Two structures rise above the
city. On one side of the city the Castle Chardia sprawls.
Opposite it across the city , the Tower looms even above
it.
Atop the tower a tall tenuous figure dressed in a simple
black robes stands. It raises a plain unadorned black
staff some five feet in length above its head and begins to
whisper.
"Know ye, that I am Bastrestric ther Archymonaged,
master of the Tower of Chardia, first among the mages of
the New Lands. Know ye that the Staff of Calyx has been
found. Since I've contrived to acquire the Staff and even
as I speak I hold it in my hands. Furthermore, know ye that I
understand the uses of this staff and am skilled in them.
That means that beginning in this night I hold in my hands
the power of life and death as your friends knowledgeable
in the Arts will be able to confirm."
As the mage speaks slowly a whispering breeze starts to
flow from the top of the Tower and spreads over the
rooftops of Chardia.
"Fear not ! ... for I am a peaceful man, caring little for
the thousands of petty little power games and intrigues
which so seem to occupy the minds of most of Olympians. So I
have no intention of unleashing this power on innocents -
or even the guilty.
But there is one practice which I can not, must not abide.
And that is the slaughter of my brothers and sisters in the
Art. In the past months and years, reckless mobs have
attacked and torn limb from limb many brother and sisters
who were doing nothing more threatening than studying
their books quietly, many of them even yet to weak to
defend themselves with the Art. Some mobs even were so
bold as to attack guild towers. This will not be allowed to
continue.
From this day on any person found to have attacked and
killed a member of the guild will pay for this with death -
sudden and permanent. This holds not only for attacks
against the great archmages - after all, who'd dare
attack Merlinium whom demons dread ? - but even and
particularly for attacks against the most junior
members of the guild. Nor will this sentence be directed
against the mere tools of the crime, but always against
their ultimate leader wherever he may be hiding.
If anyone should have a genuine grievance against any
member of the guild, he is encouraged to inform our
revered guild master or any of the masters of one of the
great towers and justice will be done. But if you wish to
live, don't ever attack a mage on your own will."
The mage stops speaking, lowers his staff and suddenly he
is gone.
But over the following hours the gentle breeze from
Chardia starts to spread over all of Olympia to Areth Pirn
and to Pesbrand, to Port Aurnos and to Kircarth. And
wherever it passes, peasants and princes suddenly wake
without apparent reason and hear those whispered words.
The band is hot, and the singers are singing:
Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling Ohhhllleeeeggg.
You are lost and gone forever, (we wish)
Let's have a party, Olegs gone.
Mean while, a fight of some kine breaks out in town. Who were those
uncoordinated bafoons chasing that zombie out of town.
Hey, the hat is empty again. Look fellas, this gig sucks. It is time
to pack up the band and head for someplace with less stiffs
Dear Mom,
I told him that it wasn't a good idea. The guy was a zombie. Possessed
by evil. He lacked life. I told him to leave him alone, but nooooooo. He
just had to take that "thing" into 'custody". And then it happened.
As soom as my brother, aching to demonstrate his testosterone, tried to
capture it, it came to life. Granted there was fecal matter all over the
place, but it was a fearsome sight none the less. One I hope never to see
again.
your son,
Stryder de Ragnar
p.s. Be home for winter festival.
Fine jewels for sale! 100 golds each. Please contact Les Krostons [1904] in
Cnossa. One month delay ( +10 golds for shipping and handling ) for Drassa.
So far three had been attacked from this new area. 2 with a worthy and
just cause for attack, but the third, the third is one of curiosity as to why?
Simply since he was an idle braggart? What? Why? Tis it only 1 way which
is the right way? Judge not others unless ye yourselves be judged, (or you
are omnipotent).
He drug himself out of the water. Where was he?
Hm. A paper. Olympia Times. What about Arcadia? Why am I not in Arcadia?
Maybe a lab accident.
Well. If he is in a new land then he must learn the rules of that land. Where
are the dwarves? the elves? the hobbits? Only Humans.
So he set out for the library. The only way to learn the lay of the land was
to read back issues.
Hmm. Dr. Pain. Bad dude. Fortunately he`s half a continent away right now.
Time to grow. Time to learn.
And who is this Rocko guy, laying claim to this town. His history in the paper
seems good enough, but I notice he writes his own press releases.
Only one thing to do.
Watch. Wait. Grow. Learn. And when the time is right: Carpe Deum!
Camaris Police Report
=====================
Last month Mohammed ibn Musa al-Kwarizmi and his escaped an attempt to arrest
them and free the men they had captured. The group fled in the direction of
West Ilion. They should be considered armed and dangerous at all times. No
other acttion worth mentioning occured in Camaris last turn.
This report will be a reqular feature in the Times from now on, and will
always end with the most up to date wanted list.
WANTED
======
Mohammed ibn Musa al-Khwarizmi [819], for assault and kidnapping.
Band of Mamelukes [1464], for assault and kidnapping.
one-eyed Kalendars [1977], for assault and kidnapping.
The Town Council of Camaris [355]
Roving Reporter's Column
========================
Peace vanishes (as Usual) !
===========================
It would appear that my earlier hopes for the cessation of hostilities in
this fair land was due merely to the perception of the people, rather than
peace itself. Indeed, death is still rampant in Habyn and West Habyn.
Is this still the work of Dr Pain and his allies ?
Little birds would definitly suggest it.
And little birds also suggest that with the swamps of Summerbridge becoming
passable this month, a flood of refugees will swarm forth from this war-
torn land to throw themselves on their neighbours. But will they be
escaping from Dr Pain, or merely trying to spread his evil work farther
afield ? I think all those who live nearby to Summerbridge should be VERY
careful which of these refugees should be trusted. After all, there are
more than one way to have survived the ravages of Dr Pain, and agreeing to
spy for him is the least of these alternatives.
On the other hand, information continues to roll in from the many explorers
criss-crossing the lands and now the oceans. And the size and scale of this
great land, continues to become more obvious. There are many towns, cities
and provinces out there, populated by a variety of wierd beasts.
But be warned, don't trust the Faeries ! They are magical and love to steal
your gold !! (Hee, hee !!)
Settting: Somewhere in the Forest of Endar
henry -> Where's the boss?
walter -> I saw him pick up his sword and go toward Phillipes camp.
henry -> What's up?
walter -> I think it had something to do with the zombie.
henry -> Is that why he was calling us incompetent? It is not our fault!
He did not supply us with any weapons or armor. How are we supposed
fight some unholy demon with weapons?
walter -> dunno, but you can't argue with the boss when you are dead.
henry -> Whoa, wait a minute. Those other embiciles in the other camp had
weapons and armor, and they could not catch it. Which is fine with
me. After we spooked it, this pungant odor filled the air, and that
horrible brown streak in the back of it's shorts made me want to puke.
walter -> Me too!
WANTED FOR QUESTIONING: Silk Hobarth, Esq. in connection with
recent sexual harrassment of numerous farm animals in the region
of Ragnar. Last seen scurrying from Ragnar with dark stain in his
trousers. Reply to undersigned at the 'Lonesome Oaf' tavern in Ragnar.
- Knights of the Watch
Wilderness backwoodsman wants wife. Lovable, cuddly, and able to wrestle
small orcs. Good home with a great view, plenty of fresh air. Home cook
meals a must. Apply at Lonesome Oaf tavern in Ragner.
They shot Fritz. They shot Fritz! Those dirty stinkin' rotten
faeries shot Fritz!
Saragin Bellewood
Version 2 of Oleg's Lore & Map set is still shipping. The maps haven't
changed that much, but the Lore has a few minor corrections relating
to the levels needed to do various things with shipbuilding,
construction, and mining skills. Contributions willingly accepted. Act
now. This offer not valid where taxed or prohibited. Map sold for
novelty purposes only. Slippery when wet.
-- Oleg the Loudmouth [810]
Oleg the Loudmouth's Interesting Player List
============================================
This is a list if people you might want to watch out
for, because they've done, erm, "interesting" things in the past.
Attacking independent units is no longer considered "interesting"
IF there is independent confirmation that the units were
indeed independent.
Note that obituaries are no longer promptly reported, if at all -- so
you'll have to watch & contribute to this list to see what's going on.
Dr. Pain [814] -- Killed at least 19 players. Known throughout the
world as an efficient and wealthy but evil dude. On turn 25, he was
killing people in Aethelarn [297]. Units owned: 1034 1301 1376 1461
1993 2002.
Bastrestric ther Archymonaged [801] -- Killed 1 unit on turn 23 in
Chardia, which Milinkthos claims was independent. Listed as a buddy
by Dr. Pain; hasn't denied it in public (to the best of my memory,
feel free to refresh it.)
Seldon the Avatar [809] -- killed 1863 in Pesbrand on turn 20. Killed
1 player and 3 units in Ilion on turn 23. Units owned: 1400. 5,000
gold bounty offered by Tony Wayland [572] for "Seldon the Avatar and
all his units."
Mohammed ibn Musa al-Khwarizmi [819] -- Attacked newbie player in
Ilion on turn 21, but was unable to beat one man. Attacked 2 units in
Camaris on turn 23. Wanted by John Smith. Units owned: 819 1464 1977.
John Smith [823] -- killed unit that killed player 830 and others in
Chardia (i.e., apparently 830 was pro-Pain and the attacker was
anti-Pain, then John Smith killed the attacker.); killed 4 other units
in Camaris since, which he says were independent. Says he is the
protector of Camaris. Units owned: 1317 1494 1935 1972?.
Varian [856] -- Attacked a bunch of independent units in Pesbrand on
turn 25. This isn't that that interesting except for the scale.
Maidez de la Montt [868] -- Attempted to kill 6 players turns 21-23,
but all failed. Attacked 3 players in Pesbrand on turn 25 for booty.
Units owned: 1991 1995 1998 2007 2012.
Spiney Norman [878] -- Apparently the owner of Fengal's Hoodlums
[2037], which killed a newbie on turn 23 in Kircarth. Fengal's
Hoodlums was captured turn 24, and the combat reports lists 878 as the
faction of Fengal's Hoodlums. Nice attempt at a coverup, Spiney.
Stryder [898] -- Attacked a player on turn 25, who successfully fled.
Phillipe [905] -- Attacked the same player. These guys claim that they
thought this player was independent and were out to guard his gold for
him. Uhuh. The victim wasn't independent, he just doesn't answer his
email as promptly as some.
Various NPC's appeared last turn and killed various people.
Sightings last turn:
====================
Maidez de la Montt [868] was spotted in Bayarth near the end of turn
24, along with [1995], which has 17 men armed (mostly) with longbow
and ringmail.
Dr. Pain [814] was attacking people in Aethelarn. He was stacked with
67 men with armor, weapons, and an average of combat 1 skill.
If you believe any information on this list is incorrect, please write
me. If you would like to contribute information, especially combat
reports and/or sighting reports, please write. Information is like a
breath of fresh air: it makes everyone's day happier.
-- Oleg the Loudmouth
* * * The Dragaeran Trading Company Continually Hammers You With * * *
The Olympia turn checker!
Old & boring! Smells like teen Spirit!
This marvel of the mideval age reads in turn commands, checks
syntax, and prints out an english version of the commands for easy
checking. No longer will you buy 5 of 6 instead of 6 of 5. It also
does reasonability checks (ie. you can't buy Osswid, and you can't
terrorize a rug).
Binaries for Next, Vax, Sparc, Decstation and Sun3 machines running
UNIX are available from shrimp.cs.washington.edu in pub/olympia. Source code
is NOT available, so don't ask.
Comments/questions/bug reports to hauck@cs.washington.edu.
Note: For bug reports, please include the line that triggered the bug, and
the output the checker gave.
Chronicles From The Undiscovered Country
Part II
Last month we left our heros - Stryder and Phillipe - pondering the
many moral dilemmas which plague a lawless society: the capture of one
'Silk Hobarth Esq.' a seemingly lifeless character with a heavy sack of
gold, and the newbie babe 'Lady Mantika' who, in addition to a heavy
sack of gold, had other desirable assets. Let's join our heros as they
prepare for action...
"Yo Stryder, a companion of the female persuasion! I say we let her
into the alliance." said Phillipe.
"Yea verily." says Stryder, "I was just sitting here thinking that
nothing can ruin a good friendship faster than a good looking woman
when a long forgotten stiffness began to stir in my loins. Yes, I say
she's in. I can impress her with my charm, my good and noble nature,
my ability to crush the life out of that zombie Silk Hobarth laying out
back."
"Now listen here buddy, you just keep your 'long forgotten stiffness'
to yourself, big guy!" said Phillipe motioning for the Oaf. "The lady
asked me for protection and that includes from any stirrings in your
loins or otherwise! Besides, I saw her first."
"Yo Boss.", said Phillipe's Oaf strolling across the common room of the
tavern, swinging a raw, half eaten, and yet unidentified animal. "Someone
you want me to kill? I'll kill him if you want me to kill'em. I won't
kill if you don't want me to, but I'd really like to kill him..."
"Shut up Oaf! Take this guy and teach him some manners. But don't kill
him!"
(a little devil pops into view on my shoulder and whispers in my ear...
"What in the hell are you talking about Phillipe...Boy, being
good and noble sure has its disadvantages. I say you and Stryder
capture the newbie wench, kill the zombie, split the gold, and have
your way with the babe.")
(a little angel pops into view on the other shoulder....
"Now, Now Phillipe! If you listen to him you're going to get yourself
into trouble. You've got the beginnings of a wonderful little place
here with lots of cooperation with your neighbors. Besides wouldn't
you rather her cooperate willingly as an equal?")
(the little devil...
"Shut-up bitch! Phillipe, just look at those lucious yaba's....")
"STOP!!! Begone voices! I am my own man and I WILL be good and noble,
just like my compatriot Stryder." As Phillipe regains his wits, he
notices that the Oaf and Stryder are both looking at him puzzled.
"I HATE it when he does that." says Oaf dropping Stryder on the floor and
wandering away.
"Don't ever do that again!" remarked Stryder resting his hand on the well
worn pommel of his longsword.
"Ok Stryder, sorry about that pard. Women have this effect on me." said
Phillipe motioning to the innkeeper.
"You know Phillipe, what we need is a diversion. The boys are getting
anxious after all that studying and the Oaf is getting restless." said
Stryder looking down at his bent armour from where Oaf had grabbed him.
"Your exactly right. What about Silk Hobarth, our quiescent friend out by
the dunny? Isn't it about time we took him into custody?"
. . . . . . .
Well, that's all the boys needed to hear. The next thing we knew the boys
were crashing through the back door of the of the tavern headed for where
we had left ol' Silk. As Stryder and I emerged from the back exit
of the tavern, we witnessed the following scene...
Our twenty-some-odd guys had surrounded what was now a VERY ANIMATE Silk Hobarth. The Oaf had him lifted over his head and was preparing to break
'ol Silk in half over his knee. The rest of the boys had one of the locals
trapped against the side of dunny. Well, the weight of twenty plus
frisky fighters against the local, against the dunny, was more than the
structure could bear. The dunny collasped right into the Oaf knocking him
down and dropping Mr. Hobarth right into what you usually find around the
dunny. Before the boys could regain their composure, Silk and his local
recruit jumped up and took off for the edge of town. The boys would have
caught him too if it hadn't been for the slippery dung they had all over
them.
As Phillipe, Stryder, and the smelly gang reentered the common room they
were greeted by a shocked group of strangers holding a copy of the
invitation we'd posted to join our alliance.
"Are you Phillipe and Stryder???"
. . . . . . . . .
[That's our story Oleg and we're sticking to it!]
Join our heros in next month's...
Chronicles from the Undiscovered Country.
--
4232 commands queued for 681 units
