Atlantis Times v1.1 v04n07 From: JJC%MP068@MPA15AB.mv-oc.Unisys.COM Date: Tue, 06 Dec 1994 19:33:33 +0000 ######################################################################## =-=-= Atlantis Times v1.1 Volume 4 Number 07 =-=-= =-= December 5, 1994 =-= ######################################################################## Words from The Big Guy: Well, we made it through one year! The game started on this day last year. What do you know... I will be taking a 2 week break over Christmas and New Years. There will be no turns run on 12/25/94 or 1/1/95. We'll run on 12/11, 12/18 and 1/8/95, barring mail troubles. 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. I should have an updated rulebook soon. 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 ######################################################################## The purpose of this submission is to get rid of the bonus of $50 for each accepted submission to the Times. I will explain the reason for this request. First of all note that $50 recruits one peasant. The accumulated benefit of one extra recruitment a month implies that a regular writer gains a vast advantage over a non-writer. So in order to be competitive you must submit to the Times. There are acceptance criteria however and this makes the procedure a bit unfair. You need only a very basic understanding of English to play the game (in fact, when you have translated rules, you only need to know the meaning of the game commands and understand the turn reports), but writing a Times article requires more advanced skills. I was tempted for a while to write this submission completely in Dutch, but rejected the idea, because then it would probably not be accepted. [ed: I almost never reject an article] Another problem is that the acceptance criteria are rather weak. I am aware that this argument weakens the previous argument, but it is just as true. The serious Times reader must skip lots of boring stuff and downright garbage in order to catch the occasional pearl like this article and all my next articles (note the missing smiley at the end of this sentence; I hate smiley's, they take away all the fun of guessing if someone is aware that (s)he is joking or boasting or if (s)he is just stupid). Still another problem is, that the acceptance criteria are subjective and unknown. I would like to know how other players think about this subject. Does everyone agree that in the hypothetical situation that a number of players submit exactly the same (acceptable) letter, the only intelligent and fair decision is to accept one copy and pay none of the submitters? Do not mail me. Send your (eloquent) opinions to the Times and they may earn you $50! By the way, I had a pay request in my Subject line . (note the invisible smiley at the end of the previous sentence; I love inconsistency) NOTE: I sent this submission to the Times of the Blitz Atlantis as well. It was accepted there, but the Game Master stated that he did not want to use the Times as a discussion panel. Is there any objection to sending the same mail to different Atlantis Times? Since they are different universes there shouldn't! Faction "Luie Donders" ######################################################################## TOTAL WORLD CONQUEST - FACT OR FICTION? The Tarraspan Platonic Society continues its popular lecture series with a talk on this contraversial topic. Invited guest speakers include - The most high and awesome Dr Vox - Lame Duck and many more. Tea, biscuits and first aid will be provided after the talk. ######################################################################## Chemical Accident at Tarraspan University Yesterday the inhabitants of Tarraspan got confused. There was a huge pink cloud, hanging in the sky, smelling like thousands of roses. Those who got contact with the cloud, glimmer in a red, green and yellow light for about two hours. The cloud was caused by an explosion in the Magic Laboratories of the Tarraspan University. A young sorceress seemed to be the evil- doer. In an interview with our local reporter Harriet Hot the young sorceress, a student in the first year, says: " I don't know, what happened exactly. I did some experiments and then I got hungry. I couldn't leave so I decided to cook something like a tomatoe soup and in addition I kept on experimenting. I took something, I thought it was pepper, but it was the magic ingredience for my experiment. As soon as I put it into the soup, the soup begun to bubble and then a flash of lightning rised the air. I was thrown in the corner of the Laboratory and I saw a great pink cloud rising out of my tomatoe soup. Perhaps I discoverd a new chemical reaction, I'll examine this in the future and I'll write a dissertation about this reaction." Our reporter Harriet hopes, that cooking meals will be teached at Tarraspan University. So that the inhabitants of Tarraspan can sleep calm and don't live in the fear of a young sorceress cooking her lunch. ######################################################################## Pestilence? -Sir, there's a rumour that horrible diseases have broke out. The black death is wearing around in the village in Karothea.... = Uh oh, shit has come over us. Never guessed that stuff was so toxic. People died you say, how many? -31, Sir. And as it is said, they died after hours of intense pain, and their hair was falling out, just as parts of their limbs actually. Oh yes, their skin turned all purple! =And where did they live? Perhaps at the east side of that vault they call village? Anywhere near that tiny little stream of water, that "river"? -Ehm, well, now you say so, yes, I think so, Sir. =Ah well, that explains a lot. Do you remember that we started a new production last month, involving those chemicals? -yes sir, that top secret department, "developing new innovative products for our clients, so that we will be the new leaders in world- technology" =Yes, that one. Do you have any idea where that department is located? And where they leave their leftovers? Yes, very good: in that very same river! What else could we do with it? -Sir, you mean, ehm, its our own company, "spreading prosperity among the region", that is actually killing people??? =Well, do people know about that? No, they don't! So why bother about it. In a few months they will buy our new goods, praising our wonderful company. Why spoil that by telling them it was us, causing that so called "pestilence"? Let them think it's nature against them, and Freaky Inc. will come to their rescue! -Sounds good, Sir. =You learn fast, my boy. ######################################################################## Shoplifting... Kyran could not resist the temptation of those candy bars on the shelf. Since his father was paying tax to that "Queen", there seemed no money left to buy him and his little brother some sweets. And since he had no money himself, and he really wanted the candy, he had to think of some other way. He looked around the shop, saw that nobody even cared for his tiny body. He noticed nobody saw him putting one of the chocolates in his mouth, and two more in his left pocket at the same time. He swallowed, almost choked on the hastily eaten bar, and then walked, as normal as possible, towards the entrance. Suddenly a large hand fell on his shoulder. Kyran was terrified. They had discovered his trick, but how? A large man, dragged him to the back of the shop, and showed him a window. Oh god, the mirror he had been looking at in the shop, was nothing else but a window. How mean! The man had a huge grin on his huge face, and for a moment Kyran saw his short life flash through his mind. The man held up his hand, and as fast as he could, Kyran gave him the two bars he had in his pocket. - Well, boy, you are Kyran isn't it, son of that lazy farmer up the hill? = Ehhhh, Yes sir. -How are you going to repay that other bar? Should we ask your father? = No, please sir, not my father! he'll kill me. -Should we then hand you over to the Karothean police? They can be mean you know! - I have a better plan. Your father is paying taxes now, isn't he? How about you come here every few weeks, and tell us if Janet's people have been around and collected taxes. For that tiny bit of information, you can have a chocolate bar each time, for free! Kyran was speechless and could only gaze at the man in front of him. -And don't forget: do not tell anybody about this, not even your family. If you do well, you'll be rewarded generously. You might even come and work for us some day. But if not, we still might turn you over to some officer for shoplifting. Now you don't want that, do you? Here take these bars as your first payment. Be sure to give your little brother one! But don't tell him where you got them, ok?. Now go, go! Kyran left the shop. Wow! He was now employee of Freaky Inc. A secret agent! All he had to do was tell them everything he saw. With a huge smile on his face he walked home. His mind so far up, he forgot to save one bar for his brother, and ate both.... ######################################################################## Dear Mat, john, and Robert, The horror I have observed has me almost speechless. I have been in Durness now for two months looking for trade business. During the second month, TWO seemingly independent battles have been fought. The mighty Zoggies have moved agressively against their neighbours. Another two groups have also engaged in warfare. I do not believe this region is safe for trade and I now fear for my own life. Rage and Thor of the mighty Zogg stood fearlessly BEHIND their troups instead of leading them into battle. Workers, mere cannon fodder was used in this brutal display of fanaticism. The losing factions were almost completely wiped out. In the second battle, there was also heavy losses. Inform all alliance members, Durness is to be avoided while Rage vents his anger. I do hope he stays away from the south. Maria ######################################################################## Sador's Journal Now that my Scout has found a Mountain Region I need to recruit and train competent miners, but it seems that I have miscalculated the ammount of money they need because not all was going according to my plans. Ah, if I only could find someone willing to pay for the spells I have researched so far, it would help me immensly in this tight financial situation. And it seems that I must try to improve my relations to other Factions on this Island for all this talk of war and marching armies in the Times for strenght lies in numbers and my followers are to few to make me feel secure. I wonder how many Factions are here on this Island. It is time to see that my Abassador gets busy again. Brought to you by the Chronicler of Sador's Magical Research ######################################################################## Lord Thynos sat in his command tent, pondering his books and tables of calculations. 'Let's see: The weapon production is starting smoothly, so far everything is going fine. There are plenty of peasants here to tax, and they have plenty of money stored. But - wait a moment: The peasant population is growing rapidly.' "Advisor! Are the latest population counts it?" An aged figure entered the tent "Yes, my Lord. Currently Gnoelhaala has a population of 8217 peasants." "Dismissed." 'So there are already more peasants here than are needed to work the fields; well, not a problem yet. But what will happen in a year? Obviously the peasant population is growing steadily. These ignorant fools will breed, until they are all starving - now that does not really concern me. But how am I supposed to get any tax income from them then? The peasants breed and they spend their income before my tax collectors have a chance to get anything. So taxation cannot stop the population grow. Heavy recruiting might help, but we do not have the potential for that and will not have it in time. Then there is this spell ..., no that is far too weak.' 'But wasn't there some overpopulation conference some time ago?' "Advisor!" "Yes, my Lord." "Send messages to everyone! I want to find out whether this problem has already been solved by somebody. We have to bring the population growth under control somehow." (please send any helpful comments to walter@mumathnx3.cs.missouri.edu) ######################################################################## New map making scam discovered Our investigating reporter E.Atmuch has once more in his daring adventures discovered a great scam. The Confused Houses once more tries to sell inaccurate maps. This delicate skill of map- forgery was once learned by the old emperor that has gone to meet his holy maker (Could that be JIM The Big Guy). In Vashcort different theories are circling on what makes these map-forgeries so common in Bananaland. The theory that most scholars seems to belive is that the non-skin maps have a tendency to warp the original facts and after the printing a somewhat erroneuos map emerges. E. Atmuch has on his latest fishing-trip with the Marines and Ninjas run ashore on a claimed ocean. So all be warned that maps received from the Confused houses can be faulty and that sailing after these maps can be dangerous. Shortly after running into the rocks at the coast primitve tribes tried to kill all sailors and capture the boat. Our expedition leader Akira sacrificed himself in the defence of the vessel. The vessels had got to badly damaged so an immediate departure wasn't possible. The natives have withdrawn for the time being and hopefully the fishing party can return back safe to Vashcort again so that Akiras sacrifice havn't been in vain. ######################################################################## Down at the docks, a creature sat, still as death, gaze riveted on the four huge ghostly ships at anchor, and the myriad smaller launches rowing in. Besides the sallow, gaunt, greyish ghouls manning the oars, each launch contained one huge wooden barrel, and the launches rode low in the blue-green seas. As the first launch neared the docks, the creature rose and staggered forward, straining at a desperate need. The ghouls quickly tied off, hefted the barrel to the docks with grunts of effort, leapt ashore and prostrated themselves before their hideous Lord. Lord Vox reached the barrel, pressed his scaled and cracked snout to the side, and inhaled deeply, with a sound like a sigh, or a sob. Then, suddenly in possession of a long-lost strength, he wrapped huge arms around the cask, lifted it in one motion above his body, and crushed the sturdy wood to splinters. Brilliant red, viscous blood exploded from the barrel, along with a bone-chilling howl of triumph from the suddenly blood- drenched Vox. A rivulet of blood ran down the razor-sharp claws tipping his hands, and into his waiting maw. The howl resolved into a deep, gurgling laugh. "Aaaaah, yes! Awful, of course, harsh and unrefined, but very definitely the Blood of my Enemies! At long last...and it has been so *very* long..." A wizened advisor stepped from the shadows of the boathouse. "I trust it is to your liking, Lord? There are many barrels, and many more being harvested now from the hapless Moe armies. Soon enough, the Raptors promise the heads of the five Moes themselves." Vox smiled, a visage of horror with his rows of rotting, bloodstained teeth. "Indeed, Hogli, I shall await these delicacies with much anticipation. And many more, once our armies all reach their destinations. Ah, the wonderful feel of blood once again flowing down my throat! Send twelve barrels to the vintners, let's see if something can be done to make this yet more palatable." Hogli smiled. His Lord looked younger suddenly, but no less fearsome. With a bow, he turned back to the boat. It was time to inspect the fresh skins as well. ######################################################################## Part 5 - Peppermint Dreams Gurithim had decided that now was the time for his men to learn how to defend themselves, so he called a group of them together. He had always had fantasies of being a great swordsman (he had other fantasies as well, but those are best left unmentioned) so he naturally decided that his men would be exotic belly dancers wearing only fresh fruit and...errr...I mean that he decided that his men would be swordsmen. "OK, let's practice" said Gurithim proudly to his men. "Umm, sir? We don't seem to have any swords" said one of his men. "Oh. Ok. Umm. Well. Ok. Right" said Gurithim as he frantically searched the area for a suitable substitute. "Ah, we can use these!" Gurithim walked over to a large crate and opened it up. Inside were many striped candy canes that he was going to give as a "Christmas bonus" to his men. Today they would be surrogate swords. He handed them out, and then proceeded to try and teach his men swordplay, of which he himself knew absolutely nothing whatsoever. The practice commenced. "Sir" moaned one of his men, "Jack keeps breaking my sword! Tell him to hit softer, will you?" "Hey Yol, stop eating your sword!" cried Gurithim. "But it tastes good" said Yol indignantly. "Ouch! Trun is cheating! He licked his sword to a point and is trying to put my eye out!" screamed a small man who was constantly dodging the thrust of another, grinning fellow. "I thought swords were bigger" said one puzzled participant. "And why do they have these silly stripes?" Gurithim decided that maybe he'd just better wait until he could get some real swords to practice with, so he called off today's practice and dismissed his men. "Ah well" mused Gurithim to himself, "just another day in Atlantis." ######################################################################## The Adventures of the Stranded Tourists Part 15: Sanctions It's the same the Universe over. As soon as the peasants and workers unite behind their chosen leaders, the exploiters, the priviliged and their lackeys the war-mongers start their scheming to sabotage The Cause. Janet feared that the sanctions imposed by the Confederation would one day lead to war. But their neighbors had not cancelled their contracts and Janet would remember their loyalty. Janet wondered whether they would ratify the Forest Treaty which would secure a fair share for all Karotheans and remove forever the possibility of a border incident which could ignite a conflict. If only Janice hadn't been acting foreign minister while I was teaching the neutrality patrol! lamented Janet. to be continued.. Janet, Queen of North Karothea & Certain Other Lands ######################################################################## Beware, all ye he worship the false idol Zogg! For it is written in the Great Book: Those who forsake Agrik, will be stricken down by his might. Agrik is no merciful god, but is filled with vengeance, to be wrought upon those who do not fall to their knees and worship him in his glory. Through his agents on earth, vested with superhuman powers, he will wipe Atlantis clean of this blight. You have been warned. Doubt not the power of Agrik. ######################################################################## The sun rose, and the stench of life filled the valley. Column after column, the Knights of Avalon returned to claim their lands back from the Dead of Dreadlock. Banners flew high above their heads - the green and black of House von Wald, the White Crescent and a multitude of others. The exiles of Zaalsehuur had come home. In a small underground cellar, furnished to resemble the original in Carrigaline, the Black Father watched them come. He saw their brave banners, their polished swords, their confidently unstrung bows. How he despised their blonde hair, their cheerful talk, their life. He saw that they were many, and that he would have to leave the valley. A low growl formed in his throat as he remembered how long it had taken to move the Vat last time. He should have realized that the peace treaty was just so much worthless vellum. These people were both proud and afraid - too proud to surrender their homeland unbloodied, and too afraid to sanction the economic expansion of Dreadlock. The Black Father turned to the huge pile of ledgers in which all of the economic affairs of Dreadlock were recorded. It was his responsibility alone to keep those books and he knew that the task had outgrown his capability. The Knights of Avalon were not to know that, of course. They believed that Dreadlock could be expanded indefinitely, and that they would be pushed into the sea. No matter. The war that had been started would at least serve as a distraction from his tedious economic management duties. He returned to the Vat and summoned the Isthmus. A black-robed face appeared in the still fluid. The Black Father looked down. "Come", he said. ######################################################################## I hate An Ugly Sea Monster .... #$@%&....., what ... XZVXVvvb bb vcb fdg g b%&%&%&&&&&.... FU.... says old who don't have any money left. ######################################################################## "Atash Caba Rathnikoi" intoned the cloaked figure hunched over the smoking brazier. Actually he was just making the words up, but the demonstration was going badly and he needed to impress his audience with the mystery and solemnity of the occasion. He had been charged with finding a means to transform excess horses into armour, and after several months and 890 silver talents poured into the project, at last he had a result. But it would be misleading to say that the quebrithine potion turned horsehide into cuirboulli. In fact it was mainly just poisonous - to peasants, especially. "Luv'ly. Wot's innit?" grunted the experimental subject, then gasped, rolled his eyes, and died. "A single dose will dispatch an average of 26 peasants" explained the thaumaturge. The audience did not appear impressed. Annoyed, possibly but not impressed. He continued "Actually, My Liege, poison can be quite useful..." then trailed away into silence. "So right you are. Boy, fetch another cup for Master Zyx'gujith...." ######################################################################## Dear Brotherhood of the Mist, Once upon a time a man came to a forest to ask the Trees if they would give him some wood to make a handle for his Axe. The Trees thought this was very little to ask, and they gave him a good piece of hard wood. But as soon as the man had fitted the handle to his Axe, he went to work to chop down all the best Trees in the forest. As they fell groaring and crashing to the ground, they said mournfully one to another, "we suffer for our own foolishness." I heard this tale when I was young. I think it explains things though. But the story isn't over. You see, my friend, this forest is not so defenseless. Though you wield a mighty Axe, the trees are many and have strong roots. Perhaps had you not been blinded by your own greed, you would have noticed. Signed, the Trees ######################################################################## The Committee on Interfactional Conflict Resolution has come up with a set of questions regarding the ongoing expansion of Lord Vox and his various allies. 1. The factions of Larson and the Brotherhood of Northern Warriors have disappeared from the pages of Atlantis since they rather bloodily resolved their conflict with several other factions in Lemuria. Do they have official positions on these new aggressions which now carry the Northern Wind beyond its starting island? 2. We note that Hobi, a former enemy of these two factions, is involved with Lord Vox. Do Larson or Lord Falken have a position on this issue of interisland alliances for conquest? 3. Does Hobi have anything to say about his role? 4. Would Lame Duck be willing to comment on its role in last month's conflict? 5. Do other factions directly involved in these conflicts have anything to say? These questions are designed to spark more useful public commentary, debate, and of course conflict resolution in Atlantis through the Times. ######################################################################## =-=-= END TIMES 407 =-=-= ######################################################################## Up