+----------------------------------------------------------------------+ | The Olympia Times email@example.com | | January 28, 1992 v2n2 | | | | Turn 9 Circulation 62 "Better late than never" | +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ Orders due: February 8, 1992
Questions, comments, bug reports, to play: firstname.lastname@example.org
To: Factions of Westley  and The Seven  From: Olympia Management
We regret to inform you that the deaths of your characters were the result of a bug in the attack allocation code in the combat system.
This bug caused bottom-of-stack units to receive a disproportionate amount of wounds during battle. It was responsible for Westley's untimely death in the Orc battle, and is believed to have contributed to the loss sustained by the Seven in the Great Battle of the Wolves.
While no compensation can replace lost Olympian characters (except, perhaps, 500 gold), these brave individuals will be honored by their sacrifice to debug a particularly nasty section of code.
R. I. P.
ADVENTURERS PAY ATTENTION
Are you tired of never finding large treasures ? Are you tired of having to spend weeks roaming the countryside in search of monsters and secret lairs ? Do you loathe having to fight for every copperpiece that you get ? Don't you think there should be an easier way to make a living ?
Well now there is !
I, Hounest Rob own the single largest collection of unused treasure-maps this side of the Sardis sea, all guaranteed winning lottery-tickets.
"How can I order?",you ask? Well its very simple: just send me a message saying which region you want a map of and 200 gold and I will send a map back to you, wherever you are. Is that easy or what?
So order now before the good ones are allready taken!
Rob and Sons Reliable Maps Town square 10 Drassa
From a tome of ancient Olympian lore found in a forgotten annex of a dusty library--
...and so, the greatest of these creatures, in time, gathered together, from across the realms, upon Mount Olympus, high above the lives of mortal knowledge, where was held the greatest battles of wit and power forever after known as the Olympic Games....
...and there emerged champions of all abilities, in speed -- Hermes, in wisdom -- Athena, but above all others, I and my two brothers arose as the final victors....
...there was held a final contest of strength and cunning, in which I came out second. My unluckier brother was forced to settle for the under- world, while the other had his choice. And that choice was a poor one, indeed. Though it was majestic and grand, the sky was but empty space. It was a choice of a foolish young mind. I knew the magnificence of the vast seas and oceans, the influence they would have over the mortal seafarers, and so, it became my mine. My dominion became all the dark and deep waters, and I was crowned with the title Poseidon....
Dominic the sly paced impatiently, tossing a ball from hand to hand. "It's all well and good for Pelenth to tell me to wait here to be picked up, but for how bloody long do I have to sit and study the arts of entertainment? By Atnerks's brass balls, I'm a scout, not a jester!"
It had been two months since he'd arrived in Port Aurnos, and in that time he'd explored the dismal swamp region more than he'd wanted to. As he paced through the marketplace for the hundredth time that week, he began to toss two balls back and forth. He'd mastered that trivial skill long ago, but he had always failed when he added a third ball.
As he passed the armorsmith's shop, he pulled a third ball from his pocket and tried to juggle all three. "Two months," he muttered, "and lord knows how much longer I'll have to wait. They're supposed to be here in three weeks, but I have my doubts." While he grumbled, he continued to toss the brightly colored balls in a cascading pattern, keeping one in the air at all times, while each hand also held one. Suddenly it dawned on him that he was juggling all three, and the sudden realization that he had mastered a basic skill in entertainment caused him to lose his concentration.
He scooped the balls up from the street, and began again. He smiled to himself as he caught the rhythm of the pattern. As he relaxed, his hand motions became for fluid, and he began to think he could continue all day. When at last he dropped a ball, he had counted over 100 tosses.
"Not bad," he thought. "A little more practice, and I'll have to see how well this pays."
Pelenth led the charge through the orcs, his Fighters hot on his heels. Nearby, Westly led Pelenth's Guard on a flanking maneuver. For some reason Pelenth didn't understand, his friend Faldred had come with him to Pactra and was leading his raiders against the opposite flank. Behind them came the Synthetics, wildly waving their swords and yelling bravely.
His cavalry cut through the orcish ranks, leaving a path of twisted, trampled orcish bodies. The enemy had its numbers reduced by more than half in a single charge. As he reined in to turn for another pass, Pelenth saw that the remainder of the orc host had turned away from Faldred and was charging Westley and the Guard. "To Westley!" he cried, wildly spurring his mount into a gallop. The remaining orcs had surrounded the Guard, and suddenly a knot of them burst forth, dragging Westley off his horse.
"NO!" screamed Pelenth as he waded in, severing an orc's head from its body. The Fighters charged in, and the Guard attacked from inside the ring of orcs. One of the horses stumbled, and its rider was thrown from the saddle and quickly overborn by the evil spawn.
In moments the fighting was over. The orcs were slaughtered, and only two losses were suffered by Pelenth's troops: the Fighter who had fallen from his horse, and Westley.
"Make a bier for each of them, and send them to their gods," said Pelenth. He knelt over Westley's mangled form, and took his deputy's hand. "Good-bye, friend," he whispered through his tears, "No more will I hear your voice, your cutting remarks, or your poor jokes." He smiled wryly, then buried his face in his hands at his loss.
In a few moments, he stood. His face was an ashen mask, and no trace of emotion played across his features. "Prepare. We ride to Drassa." he said, and climbed aboard Pokey.
To milord Erekosse, The destination of my mission is in sight. I will reach Port Aurnos within a months time. The journey has been long and arduous. I have seen many sights and wonders. I will forward a complete report of my trip via courier from the messengers' guild in PA. You should look forward to receiving it soon. Sometime within the next two weeks please send further instructions for your humble servant. I will pick up your missive when I send off my report. With this in mind, I would suggest that I should recruit some men in this new city to deal with some of the more malevolent elements I encountered in various locations (see report for details). I look forward to hearing from you in PA, and I will forward all elements of my report to you in Drassa. Please advise me of your current location if this is no longer valid. Your humble servant, Elgoth
Bad luck, that was it, plain old bad luck. That dratted Murphy upsetting delicate balances all over the place. Should He send in the 7 ('hmm' He said glancing out the window, maybe that should be 13, Murphy again, maybe the Riders would be a better force).
Sending His consciousness floating over the ether He soon saw the familier form of Okelos in bright mail. Quickly he outlined the plan, and then reclined back to watch.
It wasn't much of a battle. The riders still tired attacked the band, which fought back with desperation. Cursing at the lack of a physical body with which to smite Murphy, He could only watch as slowly the riders were beaten off, leaving eight of their number dead, while Murphy barely lost barely five.
Now was the time to call on a favour owed by the Sherrif. Returning to His study Merlinium once more stared into the flames, and soon the new lord of Pelenths' aura was quite visable. After giving directions to Murphy, He returned to His body.
Well it was going to be an interesting month, and that experiment suddenly looked quite promising....
d2 - d4
Now that's quite a move.
A young, strong, energetic swordsman is desperately looking for his loved one: She-Ra. Please, can anybody help me, for I wish to search no longer. I cannot describe how my arms yearn to hold her and my sword longs to protect her (these are my primal male instincts). Can anyone help me in my quest for her heart, does anyone know where she is, or has someone caught that mysterious look of her moonlight-eyes? Any other female kandidates may also reply to this ad. I (I have the Power(of Eternia)He-Man(secretely in love with She-Ra)) want to live on my own no longer. I WANT A WOMAN!!!!!!!!!!!!
-- 498 commands submitted for 109 entities this turn