Atlantis Times v1.1 v04n10 From: JJC%MP068@MPA15AB.mv-oc.Unisys.COM Date: Tue, 10 Jan 1995 02:05:54 +0000 ######################################################################## =-=-= Atlantis Times v1.1 Volume 4 Number 10 =-=-= =-= January 9, 1995 =-= ######################################################################## Words from The Big Guy: Well, a new year and we continue. Given that Atlantis v2.0 is about to start beta test, I'd like to know how many plan on playing in it. Just send me a note if you are playing in it. Thanks. NOTE *** Atlantis is now closed. All full, no more starts. Just a reminder of the new AUTOTAX command: - AUTOTAX flag available. This is a new boolean command, similiar to GUARD and AVOID. If set, a unit will attempt to TAX every turn. If reset, no automatic TAXing will occur, though the TAX command will still work. AUTOTAX boolean is reset after a MOVE or SAIL command is executed. 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 ######################################################################## Mountains! Were these reports to be believed? Two different ranges, unoccupied and waiting exploitation. Thoughts of sea monsters were a thing of the past amongst the populace now. Miners were whistling while they worked, quarrymen were humming merry tunes, masons were dreaming of castles, weaponsmiths were polishing their tools, pannel beaters were measuring up the troops. Legions were drilling all day. Even the mages had recieved good news and were eagerly collecting their belongings and packing their bags. The herds of horses on the plains were enjoying the last of the summer months. Plans were afoot. Suddenly everything was in short supply. The Committee scratched its heads, if mountains were not just a thing of fairytales what of the dragons that lived there? Suddenly the fairytales were seen in a grimmer light. ######################################################################## The euphoria created by the recent arrival of the entertainers has caused a few lost souls to wander off. Concern is being voiced at the amount of time being spent away from our studies, but all these new wonders are just too much. ######################################################################## Muraokas last stand After the brutal slaughtering of some friendly fishers up in the savage plains of Bananaland General Muraoka have been ordered by the high Council to execute a disiplinary campaign against the Z1 savages. After weeks of hard jungle marching the troops have finally reached the jungle of Olonek. Here the sly Z1 natives tries to stop the General to continue his disiplinary campaign into the heartland of the Z1 tribes. The forces of the Z1 are massive and some fear that this will be the last stand of Muraoka. But the great Lord of the Blood throne has promised reinforcements so the outcome is still uncertain. The first attack of the savages came with the help of a few nobelmen from the Confused houses. This attack was repelled but the savages declared themself victors even if they lost almost the double of men in the attack. A second attack from the savages is expected in the next couple of days so then we all will know if civilisation has prevailed over native uprising or if the tribal life can continue in Bananaland in its present uncivilised form. Settlers in Skottskog await the news with fear as the danger of native expansion south exciststs. But a local spokesman says "We are ready just let them come so we can drain them on blood, excotic blood- wine from Bananaland can be the new runner-up on the wine market after the recent success of Moe-Tinto". ######################################################################## Big emigration wave Many settlers flee from Atlantis because of war, starvation, monsters and magicians. The fugitives have chartered two big space shuttles. They will travel through the space to a new discovered planet they call Atlantis2. The journey will last about two years. "There's no hope for us in this Atlantis" , said a farmer to our reporter Harriet Hot. "Our farm is too small to support the whole family and the big bosses collect taxes anyway. An' now this rumour of war - a galleon of this devil Dr. Vox has landed on our peaceful island - and some kind of religious war in the neighbourhood. No, here's no place for us. We'll go to the stars." There are at least two thousand people - men, women, boys and girls, little babys, who are willing to take the risk and to emigrate to an unknown planet. For the period of travelling the fugitives will stay in deep sleep. We all - remaining on this atlantis full of war and bloodshed - hope, that they will succeed to build up a better Atlantis. ######################################################################## The celebration lasted almost the entire month. The partying was more than that normally done by a victorious army; for this time, a Voxian army had met with defeat! Bascon Diamante swept Philum into his arms and whirled her around his office in joy. "Finally we caused the bastards a bit of pain! We'll have to see what Vox has to say about this in next month's Times." "But I thought we lost more men than they did," Philum said. "Well, yes, that's true, but our troops are cheap and easily replaced, while Vox needs to ship in swords and highly-trained units across the ocean. This is the first time we've ever dealt Vox and his allies a substantial defeat. The morale boost should be good for our troops. Consider too the enemy's losses of materiel - 100 iron and nearly 100 swords in all, plus some and horses. Our weaponsmiths have been desperate for iron, and Vox has kindly provided it. I wonder if a thank-you note would be appropriate? And look at the new reports; it seems they're set up for a repeat thrashing this month." "Still, my dear," objected Philum, "We may be winning battles, which I'll admit is better than we've ever done in the past. But there's a big difference between winning a battle and actually getting rid of their army - which, as you said yourself, is still there." "Yes, yes, you're right as always. Never fear, we'll deal with that. This was a big victory, but still just the first step. From this small beginning, I envision much greater things developing. Just be patient and watch what happens." ######################################################################## Night. A figure moves stealthy through the tents and directly entres the bigest tent in the desolated mountain region. -I been waiting for you, said Wendy. -I just arrived it took me a whole month to came here, the roads are in a very bad shape. And Imust leave inmediatly or I will die of starvation. -I am not complaining, actually I am glad. I was giving up the hope. I thought that you forgot about me. -The chief has never broke his word. It is the end of the summer but the summer nontheless. I will give you the money now. I must leave. -May Iape show you the path in the dark. -You will see me again and that I am giving you MY word. + + + + + + + + + -Martin, our messenger has arrived to the mountain region of ****** and delivered the money, soon we will have the sword and armours that we need to defend ourselves. -That is good news indeed. Anything else? -Well, just the usual. -And that is... -Our explorers report two more raids of Ugly sea monsters in the far provinces of the island. Some peasant dead... nothing. -So, our plans are still working.... -Yes, let's pray to Iape for that. ######################################################################## THE LUMBERJACKS OF BERGLAND, part II The tired group of lumberjacks had just got their camp set up when suddently a high strong man came walking slowly, but steadly through the swamp. It didn't seem to Mullin that he minded the weather, nor the wet swamp floor. He wasn't from the areas around here, he looked diffrent somehow. As the stranger crossed the last bit of wet swamp between them he said in a calm and collected voice: "Not to worry, I'm a Emisarry of the merry Pranksters. I come in peace." With some fright Mullin answered : " Greeting your noble Emisarry, What are you doing here deep in the harsch and dangerouse swamps of Bergland. We are Hard working lumberjacks working for Cizerra Mud and have heard about most of the factions that live on the plains, but we haven't met any Pranksters before. Who would have thought we would meet one deep in this watery hole. Well, if you want to send a message to one of our leaders, then the South Caravan is leaving for Skommer this month. He may bring a message if you have any to give him. " The newcommer looked around the camp and the others in the party. When he was sure that the big sweaty man that was talking to him infact was the leader, he satt down by the fire. "Well," he said," You can bring him the message that I'm a scout, exploring this island for my faction, the Merry Pranksters. We are but a band of wandering minstrals, exploring this great land of Atlantis." With that he lie down taking a rest by the fire. Mullin could not beleave his ears. "This island?" he thought. Then he adressed the Emisarry again. " I'm so sorry to bother the Emisarry, but I couldn't do otherwise than wonder of the tidings you bring. You call this home of ours an Island, but so far I have not seen any ocean. Tell me do you come from a land far away, and have you travelled over the sea." He added in an more collected voice. I'll bring your message to the Counsel. But the newcommer where allready fast asleep. << TO BE CONTINUED >> ######################################################################## As dusk settled on the mountainside, there was a lull in the almsot incessant noise of construction. Thorin put down the text he was perusing and went to the narrow casement window. Below him in the courtyard, the workgangs were slumped in exhaustion near to a new cairn of stone. "Ho, foreman", called Thorin, "How goes your work?" "Lord Thorin, we have added another butress. The evening relief crew will be with us shortly, so, as you can see, we are taking a momentary rest..." "There will be more than enough time for rest after the Dragon has visited his fiery charms upon your weary limbs. I am instructed to make this Citadel the largest man made edifice in all Atlantis to protect the Seneschal's people here. Continue your work until the relief crew arrives." "Aye, sir." As Thorin returned to his study, he wondered whether three score and three centuries of stone would be enough to save the people of this province if the giant lizards chose to unleash their fire here. ######################################################################## Part 7 - A magical friendship Gurithim's head (and only) wizard, Loktofeit, was wandering around camp, trying to decide what spell to practice next, when a smart looking lady walked up to him. "Hello Loktofeit" said the unidentified lady. "Or do you prefer Lokto? Or maybe just Lok? Yes, Lok is good. I shall call you Lok." The lady smiled. Lotofeit was taken aback (which he later returned to its rightful owner) by this woman's approach. Who was she anyway? Why was she deciding what to call him? Was that not his own right? Why was she smiling at him? Why was he smiling back? Why did he feel so...so...strange around this woman. "Now, Lok, how would you like a partner?" the woman asked. "Mind you, I don't mean an apprentice. Apprentices have to do silly things like fetch water and shine their master's shoes. No, I want to learn things on equal ground with you. I want to be a wizard." Loktofeit had never met anyone like this before in his life. She was so straightforward, so honest. She was also so...so...beautiful? Loktofeit had seen many women in his time, many that would be seen as much more beautiful than the woman before him. That is, others would see them that way. Loktofeit saw this mysterious woman through eyes of one smitten, and he saw the most beautiful girl in the world. "Oh, how rude of me" exclaimed the woman. "My name is Tyrandia." Loktofeit paused a long, slow pause, holding back the joy that he felt inside from showing on his face. Then finally, he smiled and said, "Hello Tyrandia. Welcome to the world of the arcane." "Great!" cried Tyrandia, and she jumped right at Loktofeit and gave him a great big hug. Then she quickly backed away and blushed. "I'm sorry...I just got excited" she said somewhat timidly, showing a side of herself that Loktofeit had yet to see. "It's allright" replied Lok. "Feel free to hug me whenever you get the urge. I don't mind a good hug...especially from you." Tyrandia smiled at Loktofeit. Loktofeit smiled at Tyrandia. For a long time they stood there, just smiling at each other. They both knew that this was the start of something that would be very good for both of them. ######################################################################## BEWARE THE GREAT EVIL IN MOUNTAINS! - Part 3 This turn things were fairly quiet on the dragon front. The dragon active last turn is now avoiding and did not attack or raid. I don't know if this is due to: A) My good luck B) Dragon resting after eating 494 peasants. C) Dragon regenerating after taking 168 casualties. A second dragon awakened in another mountain and launched a raid killing 224. These losses are consistent with 200 L7 swordsmen attacking in a free round and one round of raiding combat, plus the casualties due to fireballs. The above report generated by the scribes of faction 59, "The Efficient Empire", formerly "Larson's Adventurers", reachable at "Bill_Larson@ncsu.edu" ######################################################################## Vox fumed. This was a quite literal effect, as noxious purplish gases swirled, curled and gently sank from his thick, supple hide to the barren earth, where they floated away in slow waves. A small rodent, unaware for a fatal instant, was caught in the miasma of fumes and died a gagging, scorched death, the fur singed from its small body. Hogli the Supreme Advisor took care to wear special boots on days he know his Lord to be particularly upset, lest his feet suffer a similar fate. One learned the important precautions quickly. He stood carefully neutral after delivering the bad news, while Lord Vox swiftly decapitated three peasants to help regain his equanimity. Finally he growled a response. "Big Moe shall die a HIDEOUS death for this defiance! How was he able to reduce our forces to this level? Explain this to me, advisor, I grow impatient with this musical fool. He delays our objectives, and that cannot be tolerated!" Hogli set his lips in a thin line, carefully moving aside to a less toxic area as the hardened leather of his boots began to sizzle ominously. "My Lord, the troops he consolidated from the east appear to have been more skilled than anticipated. And a large number of his troops were mounted, with some riding skill. Add to this his three mages and the tactical edge, and..." Vox huffed, a cloud of greenish vapor emerging, which touched a nearby brazier and ignited to a fearsome fireball. "Ah, spare me these useless details. What of next month? Shall we reduce him then, or do you expect further delays?" Hogli decided on the truth this time, rather than face the fury of missed expectations a month from now. "Another defeat, my Lord, I regret to say. Our reinforcements are not sufficient to overcome his tactical edge." Vox became cold with fury, but a dark glimmer in his eyes told of new plans as well as renewed hatred. "Very well. This despised Moe has a temporary repreive, so long as he stays huddled in Jervbygd. I care not for the deaths of my ghouls, so long as our goals are acheived. He will be crushed in due time, and we shall ravage his lands in the meantime. Summon the Council on the morrow, and we shall plan his doom further." Hogli allowed himself a grim smile. "The Bananaland report, your Omnipotence?" Vox snarled. "I care not. BORA's doom is upon them as well, along with the tattered remnants of the Diamantes. Our diversionary force will live or die as Agrik wills. It is time to visit the cellars, and see how Moe's first harvest ripens." And as the pair lumbered/glided down the black-red stone steps to the blood-cellars, far away, under similarly colored sails, a lone watchman upon a mighty war galleon sighted a thin green strip on the blue horizon, and called out, "Land HO!! Swords to deck!" Doom glided in on peaceful waves to a peaceful continent. ######################################################################## The Lost Continent The mayor of Jervbygd was demanding an environmental impact report for the new school. Professor Duncan wondered if he had stumbled into the United States of Atlantis. How could they have gotten this far north? No, the mayor was a local. Apparently a new school is not welcome here. Not easily discouraged, the Zamoran school builders packed up their bags and moved to Rethel. Perhaps the Rethelians would be receptive to a new school. ######################################################################## It has come to my attention that many months have passed since this esteemed paper last carried news of the Brotherhood of Northern Warriors. For this I apologize. It has been that time of the year when many things occupy a man's mind, and his attention is divided amongst several tasks. Never the less, I feel it is important that all the inhabitants of the world of Atlantis be able to read about the doings of our great faction, and the 50 silver per article doesn't hurt anything either. Despite some folk's claims, such an amount is really little more than spare change, but still, it can do no harm and perhaps a measure of good. Therefore it is my pleasure, and indeed my duty, to present yet another extract from: The Chronicles of The Brotherhood of Northern Warriors September, Year 4 - Oloron General Erik sat in his tent, the scroll of parchment opened in front of him. He hardly noticed the odor from the fetid swamp, so engaging was the contents of the communication he was reading. This was its contents: General Erik: Dragons have been spotted in mountains across Lemuria. They fight with power equal to 200 highly skilled swordsmen, have hides tougher than plate armor, and breath great clouds of fire from their jaws. These beasts are a great threat to our iron production and that of our allies. Since iron is a military necessity, we must take forceful action. General William and Lame Duck have both requested the aid of our bowmen in this matter, and I have agreed. You are hereby ordered to send all the soldiers of the Beta and Delta Squadrons of the Northern Bowmen to the mountain of Lagos, where they will join the forces of the Efficient Empire to do battle with the dragon there. Once they have slain it, they will be reassigned. You yourself will remain in Oloron, as while you are a competent tactician, even my knowledge of warfare is known to be useless against these clever dragons. Continue to oversee the production of wood in that area, and attempt to recruit more of the peasants as it seems likely we will need more bowmen in the future. In Brotherhood, Lord Falken -)--------- The Brotherhood of Northern Warriors General Erik was amazed. Lord Falken was generally considered, at least by his soldiers, to be the greatest tactician in Lemuria, and perhaps in Atlantis. And yet these dragons were so clever that his knowledge of battle and warfare were useless? And a single beast as powerful as 200 swordsmen? It took some believing. Here, he thought, might be a danger greater than the Doom Army had ever presented, and certainly it promised to be a bigger threat than crushing the Nolles had provided. Lovingly fingering the crossbow that leaned against his table, Erik wished that he could accompany his men on what looked likely to be a great adventure. He had never seen a dragon, or even a sea serpent, and he envied the bowmen squadrons their chance to do battle against this monster. Than, standing, he prepared to step out into the stinking marsh and give the necessary orders. * * * * * "I've got a bad feeling about this," Jarren said. He was a member of the Brotherhood of Northern Warriors, a proud member of the Beta Squadron of the Northern Bowmen, and he had never expect to fear anything while he had his crossbow on his back and his comrades at his side. And yet, he was afraid. The dragon they were marching off to do battle with had been rumored to shoot balls of fire out of his mouth; balls that might be powerful enough to destroy the entire squadron before they got so much as a shot off. "Don't be such a coward," Garrep countered. He, too, was a member of Beta Squadron, and he wasn't afraid of dragons. He would be, though, before the day was out. "I bet their ain't no such thing as a dragon," he said, "I've never heard tell of one before this." "Maybe not," Jarren said, "but don't forget that sage we saw in Lorthalm. The one that was warning of an evil in the mountains. Now just what do you think he was talking about, if it wasn't dragons?" "How should I know?" Garrep asked. "Those sages are always going on about something." "That's right, they are," Jarren agreed. "And they're usually right. That one that warned us about the oceans knew well enough that there were sea monsters in it, and I guess this one was right too." "Well if its sea monsters you're comparing it too, than that's easy enough. They're no match for a good company of well trained soldiers from what I've heard." "No, you're right again. If we were marching to the coast to kill a sea monster, I'd be as carefree as you seem to be. But these dragons, they're another story all together. Stronger than sea monsters, and they breath fire. And they've tougher hides, too." "Well, we'll just see if it's too tough for crossbow bolts, I guess," Garrep said, and he was about to say more, when one of the bowmen in Delta Squadron cried out. They'd been making their way up the foothills of Lagos for the last few days, and now they were pretty much in the mountain itself. Not 100 feet ahead of them, behind a really particularly big rock, Jarren could see just a glimpse of a giant green scaled body. "It's the dragon!" someone cried out in terror "we're all going to die!" And they all might have, too, if Jarren hadn't, at that moment, taken charge. He was no officer (they hadn't brought one with them, as Lord Falken's letter said they would be of no use against the monster (Jarren wasn't all that sure that they were ever of any use at all)), but he was a natural born leader. He quickly sized up the dragon. It was as big as 200 swordsmen, and twice as fierce. It had huge white teeth, and long grey claws, and it's hide was made of tough scales. Smoke was pouring out of its mouth, and it seemed all too likely that fire was about to follow. Jarren turned from his study of the monster, and turned his attention to the soldiers at his side. Sixty bowmen, all good shots and as brave as he was, he knew. It wasn't even close to being enough. At that moment, the dragon lunged. Jarren knew nothing of tactics, but somehow at that moment he managed to give the order that saved the life of every soldier in the Beta and Delta squadrons of the Northern Bowmen. "RUN!" shouted. And run they did. The well ordered ranks broke apart, as warriors dashed right, left, and backwards. A few of the braver, or more foolish, bowmen shouldered their weapons and fired a volley of bolts at the monster, but none had taken time to aim, and the shots went wild. One bolt, only, struck the monster, and it did pierce the dragon's hide, drawing blood and forcing the creature to roar in pain. Then it spread its great wings and hurled itself at the remaining bowmen, and they too realized the sense in Jarren's order, and hastily followed it. It might seem to have been a cowardly or ignoble thing, that retreat. But whoever thought that would do well to face off with a dragon, with only 29 fellows at his back, before he said the thought aloud. For Jarred knew as well as any Warrior that it was one thing to die gloriously for the Brotherhood, and another and very stupid thing to die pointlessly for no reason at all. But still, he was glad when Garrep reassembled the hosts, restoring order to the squadrons, and lead them on a forced march up the mountain. Once they had joined the troops of the Efficient Empire, who were greater in number, they would not be afraid. They would face the dragon again, and this time they just might slay it. -penned by High Minister Aldric on this first day of October, Year 4, in the region of Gurkacre, Lemuria, World of Atlantis. ######################################################################## =-=-= END TIMES 410 =-=-= ######################################################################## Up