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   | The Olympia Times                               times@olympia.rt.com |
   | June 6, 1992                                                    v4n3 |
   |                                                                      |
   |                                                                      |
   | Turn 26  131 Players                         "Today is my birthday!" |

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...


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.


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.

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