Atlantis Times v1.1 v05n05 From: JJC%MP068@MPA15AB.mv-oc.Unisys.COM Date: Wed, 08 Mar 1995 02:00:32 +0000 ######################################################################## =-=-= Atlantis Times v1.1 Volume 5 Number 5 =-=-= =-= March 7, 1995 =-= ######################################################################## Words from The Big Guy: The number of active factions has dropped. We are down to under 100 now. The game continues to grow, however. The data file is over 5 MB. 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 ######################################################################## What happened last time: William was searching for a map of Pacificia. Leonora gave him one and he set sail. Meanwhile Undine is not lazy. After talking with William (in a dream - oh what strange idea), she wakes up in the morning feeling rested. She feels ready for action, but what to do. "Crying for help as a little babe, maybe good for babes. But I can do something myself and not trust only for help of other people. But what to do first". She intends to talk to her brother Sigimund, who is studying in the Tarraspan Military Academy. And perhaps his friend will help too. And her friend the leader of the Great Circus and maybe her friend of the Agricultural Cooperation. "If we help each other, we can succeed", she thinks. "And perhaps there are more friends out there than I know. A journey - yes, that will be the next step, a journey to win new friends. She has the idea of a great alliance of friends helping each other on the basis of democratic decisions. Oh Vox, be aware of sheeps, they may bite like dogs." ######################################################################## Dr. Vox: But first on earth, as Vampyre sent, Thy corpse shall from its tomb be rent; Then ghastly haunt thy native place, And suck the blood of all thy race; There from thy *daughter*, *sister*, *wife*, At midnight drain the stream of life; *Yet loathe the banquet, which perforce* Must feed thy livid living corse, Thy victims, ere they yet expire, Shall know the demon for their sire; As cursing thee, thou cursing them, Thy flowers are withered on the stem. But one that for *thy crime* must fall, The youngest, best beloved of all, Shall bless thee with a *father's* name - That word shall wrap thy heart in flame! Yet thou must end thy task and mark Her cheek's last tinge - her eye's last spark, And the last glassy glance must view Which freezes o'er its lifeless blue; Then with unhallowed hand shall tear The tresses of her yellow hair, Of which, in life a lock when shorn Affection's fondest pledge was worn - But now is borne away by thee Memorial to thine agony! Yet with thine own best blood shall drip Thy gnashing tooth, and haggard lip; Then stalking to thy sullen grave Go - and with Ghouls and Afrits rave, Till these in horror shrink away From spectre more accursed than they. (From "The Giaour" by Lord Byron) ######################################################################## Part 10 - Perfect circles Gurithim sat at his makeshift desk sifting through reports and bills. His general pattern was to stare at a particular piece of paper for a while, get a concerned look on his face, get a confused look on his face, get a frustrated look on his face, then mumble something under his breath and move the paper to the bottom of the pile so he could deal with it later. This went on for some time...and then he finally broke. "Aiiieeeee!" he yelled. It was a good, cleansing yell, even if it did sound more like a kitten being trod upon than a man in anguish. One of his advisors came running to his aid. "Are you allright, Sir?" asked the advisor, Juf. "I am so confused!" replied Gurithim. "The number of men that I must manage keeps growing! We are producing lumber here, iron there, horses elsewhere. Men must be trained, taxes must be collected, people must be fed! Money must be managed from so many sources! And to make matters worse, the wizards keep bugging me for proper mage robes, you know, the kind with little squiggly lines running all over them. This is getting too complex for a simple man like myself to handle!" "Sir, if I may, I have a theory on complexity that you might find interesting" said Juf. Juf was someone who had a theory for just about everything. Gurithim had heard many of Juf's theories and was not really in the mood for another. He didn't want to hear how aggression was caused by trauma in childhood or moral decay was the result of too few melons being farmed nowadays. Unfortunately for Gurithim though, Juf was going to tell him anyway. "You see," said Juff in a studious voice, "complexity, like most things, is circular. If you have something that is very complex, and you keep adding complexity onto it, eventually you will wrap back around to something that is quite simple. It is like walking on a ball, or melon, actually. When you start walking, you are at first getting further away from your starting point. Then you begin to approach it again. Since you are approaching your starting point, you must actually be before it, or behind it. Do you see what I mean, Sir?" Gurithim thought about this for a while. "So, if I keep making things more complex, eventually they will all become extremely simple?" asked Gurithim. "Most likely" replied Juf. "That is, unless you aren't eating enough melons. Melons are the real key, to most things actually." Gurithim forced a half smile and told Juf that he'd ponder on what he had said. As soon as Juf left, Gurithim sighed and went back to shuffling through papers. He stopped when he came to a bill from a local farming supply. It read "Please remit payment for 50 lbs. melon seeds. Invoice attached. Thank you for your business." "Aiiieeeee!" rang out from Gurithim's tent. ######################################################################## A veteran warrior strode ever to where Lord Myth was practicing field manouvers with some of the young soldiers. "Yes, what is it captain?" "My Lord Myth, Lord Fanatic sends word that there have been some battles to the north and east of us, and more expected battles this month due north of here." "Oh.... and?" "Sir, he believes it would be wise to move some of the men north to assist in protecting our vital resources of iron. As you know, we just received a shipment of iron this month, to be used in further sword production, and I have drafted some more of the peasants for training. With the additional tax revenue we'll be able to continue an exponential growth in our forces." "Why of course captain. Tell the patrol to get ready, we'll be leaving in two hours. Oh, and captain!" "Yes." "Could you go over and tell that Merry Prankster that it isn't polite to stare?" "Why of course my Lord Myth", the captain grinned. ######################################################################## **** Spring harvest report year 5 **** The annual Vashcortian blood harvest report has finnally been released. This years report has been eagerly awaited by the memebers of the Octagonal Pit. It seems that big differences in this years harvesting has been the case. After a very promising autumn the production has almost stopped of Diamante & Native flavors. The new production units sent north promises a change of this and hopes for a big harvest this autumn. In the east a steady flow of Moe red has been maintained. Spokesmen say production goes as planned. The only danger to productions seems to become the extinsion of raw material. New flavors that where planned to be introduced on the market this spring has been blocked by the wine production competitor Larson, company name "Efficient Empire". This blockade doesn't seem to be solved during the nearest time period. For this year the future production is very unclear but some bright spots for the future are seen promises the authors of this years report. ######################################################################## WAKE UP PACIFICA ! One year should have past since most of you, the native inhabitants of our Island, decided to build your own small kingdoms, companies, unions or adventurous bands of explores. Maybe you feel that you have grown strong and maybe you've crushed some of your nabouring tribes in the process of getting where you are now. What you have faced until now however is nothing against the invading forces that has found our Island just recently. These kings, monsters, mistrals or what ever they choose to call themselves have fought and slaughtered native tribes on other islands before coming here. Be wise and do not thrust them even if they claim to be homeless knights that only want to live in peace, or wandering explorers with no harm in there thoughts. They are after one goal and that is the enjoyment of tearing this colourful island into big peaces own by different big factions. The atmosphere of Pacifica will be destroyed when all the leaders that have work to educate soldiers and artisans, fough small wars for a plain or a mountain, and raised a little society from nothing, suddenly is wipe from the face of the earth in one single turn. And what is this richness of small kingdoms replaced with? Hordes of overtrained, over efficient factions with boring grey names, that only knows exactly how to get the most silver out of every little farmer. The thrill of small wars and dicussions between the newly formed and growing companies is replaced by one month slaughtering of natives. You where the king and ruled an empire last mont, but this month you are no more. And where you had build schools and workshops, is only left exactly 6667 farmers, 900 soldiers, and 200 horsetrainers that effiently sucks silver from the area. Well, your gone but the atmousphere is still the same, isn't it? The sorcerous words of Miano de Lavita ######################################################################## "THAT leaky ship!!?" Lord Vox's maw dropped open in a snarling, drooling visage of horror as he gazed upon the large vessel at anchor. His guide, a ghoul-initiate of little experience, stammered random apologies, not really knowing what to say, and not expecting to survive this experience. "I'm expected to travel across the mighty seas of Atlantis to uttlerly crush and rend my enemies in THAT worthless vessel?" True to form, Vox took out his irritation on the nearest living being, fully satisfying his guide's expectations by ripping him into quarters. The act seemed to mollify him somewhat. "I suppose it's the best that can be expected in short notice. But I had *so* hoped for something constructed entirely out of skulls, bones, skin and precious metals. It's important, you see, to arrive in style." Lord Vox was talking largely to himself at this point, all servants having scattered to hide behind trees. "Besides which, it's not just a war thing anymore, you see. Every great Beast must have a softer side, a better half, so to speak, eh? I think it is high time I had a partner in my ventures, someone to terrify, torture, devastate, insult, and be a focus of my most personal hatreds." Vox stood up a bit straighter and grinned, his rotting teeth sending awful fumes out among the trees, causing leaves to blacken and shrivel. "Yes, the time comes for Lord Vox to take a Wife!" Vox shook his mane of snake-like hair, preened a moment, and strode off resolutely, murmuring, "Now, who shall I assign to sort out all the marriage proposals...?" ######################################################################## **** NEWS FLASH **** The Zamoran Geographical Society is pleased to announce their latest discovery. The area at location (13, 14) is an ocean! Don't forget to update those old bamboo maps. Remember, no animals were hurt to produce this map, just a lot of nobility. ######################################################################## Janice - causing trouble again? "Whats the meaning of this, Janice?" asked Janet harshly, waving the intercepted message in her face. .ecinaJ ,sessiK dna evoL ,yrwod ym sa knird nac ouy doolb eht lla reffo I !em yrram ,xoV gilraD "I know nothing of it." said Janice,in as innocent tone as she could manage. "Hmm..looks like your work. But perhaps I am mistaken." conceded Janet. "Sorry for mistrusting you. " ######################################################################## =-=-= END TIMES 505 =-=-= ######################################################################## Up