Atlantis Times v1.1 v05n10 From: JJC%MP068@MPA15AB.mv-oc.Unisys.COM Date: Tue, 02 May 1995 00:00:00 +0000 ######################################################################## =-=-= Atlantis Times v1.1 Volume 5 Number 10 =-=-= =-= May 2, 1995 =-= ######################################################################## Words from The Big Guy: Well, the time has come to decide the future of Atlantis v1.1. I will not be able to run the game from this location much longer. We need to decide if the game is to end, or if it can be relocated. The key issue with relocation is the integration with the mail system on that host. Let me know what you folks think. Next orders are due Sunday, May 14. Send Times to: jjc@mpa15ab.mv-oc.unisys.com Send Orders to: JJC@MP068.MV-OC.UNISYS.COM Send problems/comments/bug reports/questions to me personally at: jjc@mpa15c.mv-oc.unisys.com I read the mail at the times address once a week, when I'm setting up the Times. I NEVER read mail where the orders go to, so don't send anything but orders there. Good luck, and enjoy. - TBG ######################################################################## Undine's back from her travels. She is very tired. "Baah, nothing about that hat that I intended to buy, no robes, no shoes. The journey wasn't successfull at all. Oh Sigimund I can tell you, there was a lot of dust in these plains I have travelled. The sun was hot, the grass was burnt, water holes were rare. And Sigimund, we must do something, it's awfull. The peasants outthere in the plains are starving to death. I have seen little children looking so hungry. Oh I feel terrible now. I haven't thought of all that pain around us. Can you organize some help, Sigimund?" "Let's see what we can do!", he says. "First of all we will send some corn, and then we can look for a plan of resettlement." "Yes, do so, dear brother and I will go now and see Selene. I have heard she had just arrived when I had quit." ######################################################################## Jonathan likes to confuse others. Six hundred sixty-seven workers in a swamp sounded like a good number and the faculty believed it. Would the rest of Atlantis? Swamps were poor places to work. It would really take eight hundred and thirty-four to be able to completely utilize the region. That would produce only enough surplus food for only one hundred and forty-five swordsmen and their leader. The faculty would laugh at such a small standing army. The only problem for Jonathan was how to fake the report so that the regents would believe that there where really more swordsmen? The regents auditors were thorough, it would not be possible to fool them. A request to have over eight hundred feed such a small force would get denied. Didn't the regents see the importance of the swamp. The force wouldn't have to destroy the opponent, just slow them down. An army delayed in a swamp would soon starve. It would be easy to delay an army for two or three months in a swamp. It would take even longer to go around the swamp. The key to holding a region must be its terrain. ######################################################################## Lord Vox carefully hefted his wait to the reinforced gangplank, ambling slowly down the wood, his eighteen-inch foot claws leaving long gouges behind. *I really should trim those*, he thought idly. With a sigh of relief, he finally reached firm ground again, and flexing his legs and arms with a loud series of pops and grinds, he straightened up and looked around. Ghouls everywhere! Now *this* was a well-populated area, he could tell by the smell alone. There seemed to be a significant lack of enemy presence, however; Vox suspected they didn't appreciate the fine scent of four thousand plus ghouls as well as he did. But they couldn't keep running forever. A fine new land for the conquest, blood to harvest in barrelfuls, enemies to chase down and rip to shreds, and a lovely wedding at the end of it all! Could life get any better than this, Vox wondered, sniffing the air one more time. Ah well. Time to go motivate the undead. ######################################################################## The weather was starting to get bad and the lonely rider was a little bit nervous. These Maps are worth horse shit, he thought. A plain region! That is a good one, this swamp stinks! Fortunately he had been called by the chief to take care of the new province. Yes, all these years mapping far in the north are paying now. Just two more regions and the map will be complete then back to the south and start a new life. Good, good indeed. He recall his cousin now in the west probably he was almost ready too, how long has been? Two years? Maybe more. Yes, two month ago a pigeon with a message signed by the Captain, explaining the new situation and the importance of his new mission. The rider hasted the horse and continued to go to the east. + + + + + + + + + + The captain in his tent was having a discussion with Gorgar, the Demon. That was the last acquisition in the Mages Circle. The demon was good at his job researching and learning. It even understood what it was said to him but he could only pronounce a few words. Always the same words. -So you discovered this new spell, do you think it can be helpful to us? Gorgar nods and said:"Gorgar it's me....." -Ajah! and how many month of research you will need you said to finish with this stage of researching? Gorgar hand lifted 2 fingers and said:"Gorgar it's me...." -Good, everything is going very good, that was a nice job you may go now. Gorgar waved it's hand and said:"Gorgar it's me....." ######################################################################## =-=-= END TIMES 510 =-=-= ######################################################################## Up