Atlantis Times v1.1 v04n01 From: JJC%MP068@MPA15AB.mv-oc.Unisys.COM Date: Wed, 05 Oct 1994 14:03:59 +0000 ######################################################################## =-=-= Atlantis Times v1.1 Volume 4 Number 01 =-=-= =-= October 4, 1994 =-= ######################################################################## Words from The Big Guy: Sorry for the delay. Mail troubles yet again. The next turn will be run on October 16, 1994. No turn this coming week. 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 ######################################################################## Life had never before been this good for Frick of the Green Cloak. After an expensive deal with the Amazons, the Order of the Green Cloak was now 80% female, and being a woodcutter in Stackforth was the most sought-after station in the realm of the Mist. Frick leaned back against his tree and pondered the generosity of Fate. A giant rabbit tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me", said the rabbit. "Wha - who the hell are you?", replied Frick, as he turned to see an odd-looking person dressed in a singularly unconvincing bunny-suit. "I'm a Dusk Bunny", replied the non-bunny, "and I've just sailed for simply miles and miles looking for a new home". The non-bunny moved closer to Frick's ear. "I'm on the run from Dr Vox", it whispered, conspiratorily. "Golly", was all that Frick could think to say. "I'd better go tell the Brother in Charge. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before! A giant rabbit refugee from the Land of Vox! Wow!" Without another word to the "rabbit", he ran off to report to his superior. "A Vox spy, you say. Here in Stackforth. What makes you so sure?" Brother Desgard, the Brother in Charge in Stackforth, eyed Frick of the Green Cloak with some skepticism. "It didn't click until I was halfway here", panted Frick, who had done the two miles between his encounter and Desgard's hut at a full run. "He had the number 13 embroidered on one ear. The Black Father's last 'Who's Who of Chaos' noted that all Vox personnel wear that number somewhere on their clothing." "I see" replied Desgard perfunctorily. "Well, then, I'll let the chef know that we will be having rabbit stew tonight". The Brothers beamed at each other, and Frick withdrew with a nod. ######################################################################## In a nice small office, overlooking the beautiful hillsides of Turia, a slightly overweighted fellow is sitting at his desk, sipping a small cup of water and enjoying a break in his tedious work of organizing his numerous ongoing trading activities. He is relaxed and reading the TIMES. Suddenly he burst out in a fit of anger: "Pato ? Plato ! How dare they using such a similar name !" He tries hard to control himself. "We will see." ######################################################################## Finally the forces of the Rowing Doom has found out where the cowardly remnants of the once proud house of Diamante have been hiding this last year. The great God Agrik has decided to show them mercy as they at once recognised his power and converted to the right faith. With the help of The House of Diamante the word of Agrik can be spread further on this barbaric continent and for this the God is merciful. Marines of the Rowing Doom that really had looked forward to sip the blood of nobility once more are disappointed but the prospect of even greater blood-harvest have had a calming effect on them. So all you barbarians convert or be prepared to end up in the wine cellar of Lord Vox ######################################################################## The little craft, hardly more than a longboat modified with some sails and an outrigger for deep-sea travel, glided quickly towards the small pier at the edge of the forest. Captain Hawkblood stood erect in the bow, staring through the spyglass. Even from here, he could see the forest was a-bustle with activity. He grunted. No simple landing here, evidently; it was time for action. He called out sharply to his crew, "Suits! All hands, suit up!" The crew groaned almost unanimously. No-one particularly like the bunny suits; they itched, and they weren't very dignified. But nobody disobeyed the Master, even this far from the Blood Throne. The riggers scurried around, zipping up their grey fur suits and preparing for docking. The little craft tossed its docking rope over the pier-stay, next to a sign that read "Welcome to Stackforth. Now Go Home." Almost at once, they were met by the white-robed guards demanding their business. -Brotherhood of Mist-, thought Hawkblood silently. Had to be. And that was apparently their sword unit to the east, and the lumberjacks efficiently clearing the trees. But many of the peasants wore the colors of Zex instead, and there were quite a few others represented. Time to do some fast talking. "Yessir. We're, uh, bunnies. Innocent bunnies escaping the fearsome ravages of VOX. Long travel it was, and we're just looking for a nice little place to set up shop, won't bother a soul, just cute bunnies, wanted to check this forest out." Hawkblood kept his expression neutral as he scratched his backside through the wooly fur suit. The guard, who was a bit nearsighted, squinted, leaned close, examined the big floppy ears, poked the fur, and then got a stern expression on his face. "If you're a bunny, how come you got Big Sharp Cannibal Teeth?" Uh-oh. Hawkblood was afraid this might happen. He stammered and stuttered a bit, thinking "Just keep 'im talking...just a little while longer..." Behind him he heard the soft, almost inaudible splashes of the Prankster acrobats entering the water. When he saw the last of them slip quietly underneath the pier, he reached up, grabbed his bunny ears and ripped them savagely from his head. "YES!! YES! You guess correctly! We are the savage cannibals of VOX, come to wreak horrible damage to your continent! You are all DOOMED! The white-robe blanched a little and stepped back just a bit, long enough for Hawkblood to slash the tie rope, dive back onto the boat and yell, "Bows up!!" Now he just prayed to Agrik that the long-practiced defense system worked as planned. Still, he wasn't exactly expecting to survive the day... ######################################################################## The Guard smirked as he handed his heavy blade over to Endar, the over fat cook. Amused, the guard watched as Endar clumsily swung the blade and missed his target by a whole cow length. The target in this case was a small monkey, actually just the top of the monkey's skull. The monkey was in a specially built cage that held it immobile. Only the top of the monkey's head was exposed and it was the job of the cook to cut that off so that Matron Malice could have her lunch. The guard turned his attention to Malice. He noted that she was indeed a woman of great patience for she had not as yet killed the fat cook. But the look on her face showed that could possibly change. "Enough of this, you idiot!!", roared Malice, "Must I do everything myself?" Malice looked intently at the cook, who had now begun to sweat heavily. "I'm sorry, Mistress, but I can't kill a monkey like this. I am rather fond of them.", the cook began to tremble violently. "So what am I supposed to do, Endar? Starve?", asked Malice with a rather serious and deadly look in her eyes. Before he could answer her question, however, General Sinclair entered with a missive from Vox. Sinclair handed Malice the parchment and waited as she read it. Malice looked up from the parchment, "So, General, tell me more about this Diamante fellow that Vox mentioned." "Well Mistress, his family were once a inhabitants of Vashcort. Vox grew thirsty and we chased them down and killed them. I am told that Vox greatly enjoyed drinking their blood. It had a kind of noble taste to it." Sinclair paused to clear his throat, "That particular Diamante, Bascon is his name I believe, was among the cowerdly few who fled Vashcort while the Northern Wind prepared to dine on the more brave members of his family. It appears he has found new vermin to form an alliance with in the Norther Lands." Malice though this over carefully. "Sinclair, did you say that Vox enjoyed the taste of Diamante Blood?" "Yes Mistress, very much so", replied the General. Malice smiled an evil, wicked smile and said, "And do you suppose that if they have tasty blood then they might have tasty brains as well?" Without waiting for an answer she turned to the cowering cook, "Endar dear, would you have a problem cutting top of a Diamante head?" "No Mistress, they aren't as intelligent or as loveable as monkeys. No problem at all.", replied the cook with a relieved expression on his face. "Very well then. You may keep the monkey as a pet. I no longer am interested in eating monkey brains. I want a Diamante!", exclaimed Malice in a loud thunderous voice. "Sinclair, send a missive to Vox. Lets try to work out a deal for Diamante brains. I must have them alive. They must watch me as I spoon out their brains." "At once Mistress", Sinclair snaped a crisp salute and turned and left the tent followed by the cook and his new pet. Malice then motioned for the guard to assist her to her personal chambers. The guard complied. Once he had her settled in bed he turned to leave but was pulled to the bed by surprisingly strong hands. "All this talk of Diamante brain has excited me. Please stay!" What's a poor guard to do? ######################################################################## Further apologies. I just can't control myself. ___ / \ ^ |o o| ^ | | < Hans ^ |\_/| ^ \___/ -=-___ E |\ | \ | \ | \ Moe ____| v / \ ___ | | / \ / \ | | / \ |X /|__|____/ \ |X \| | \ \ \___/ | \ | \ ######################################################################## THE ADVENTURES OF THE STRANDED TOURISTS Part 4: Hope for Peace, Plan for War. It had been a busy month. All the other factions in the province had been contacted and there was hope of freindship, co-operation and, who knows? .. Perhaps even an alliance against the evil aggressors who Janet sensed lurked somewhere over the horizon. She wondered if the others were as scared as her. No weapons,no horses and no prospect of any for months to come. Well.. the Rascals would earn more when they were retrained in the spring, and the tutors would be ready to teach in a few months... Perhaps they would survive. "Please! Oh please,let the new year bring Peace and not a thundering horde of horsemen." She prayed. to be continued.. ######################################################################## The Adventures of the Stranded Tourists Part 5 : The Tourists Attack. " Now! " screamed Janice and the Tourists surged from their ambush positions toward the Twenty of the Un-named Faction. "Banzaii!" shouted Hideki Matsuii as his camera fragmented the skull of an opponent. Within minutes it was all over. "Mercy,.. mercy for God's sake! " pleaded the pitiful handful who survived the first assualt. " We'll give you mercy..." sneered Janice Janet-twin , her eyes wide with bloodlust, "...right where the chicken gets the axe !!! Finish them! " Janet dabbed at the blood on the pile of Florins heaped before her " Janice, where did all this money come from?" ######################################################################## Ekij looked gravely at Omar, the news of the invasion in the south was not plesant. Especially after such a dreadfull autumn what on earth had possessed the miners to starve ? They had been ordered to Work as the money bag had failed to reach them, reports said they HAD worked for the month and yet they had still starved. Ekij just couldnt figure out why and unfortunately they wern't arround to question. The faction was still in a complete mess. There were major cash flow problems. Units had all done useless things for months and now that it was necessary to get everyone back on their feet again the threat of war was not going to help matters. What was worse the allies were requestion militear support. Well he just couldn't provide any at the moment. He could barely feed his own people and the warriors though not few in number were all needed to tax the peasants till the workforce was large enough for them to do something else. If only the pesants wouldn't insist in BREEDING so much. Why couldn't they contain their numbers inside the land limits. At least then there would be spair cash to tax and entertain away. As it was the money would run out very soon and then the whole land would be in trouble. Omar sat in silence, he couldn't figure out what happened the envoy sent to VOX. If vox had eaten him he would have understood but reports seemed to indicate that he had just dissaperaed. If only the records wern't in such a mess. If only he had more time. If only ZOLAG had done the job she had promised and run the faction in ekij's absence! But no she had gone off too and left it to run itself blindly into the khrasma it was in now. Some day he would teach that woman a lession but for now he knew he was in no condition to fight her and besides they could well need all the people they had without in-fighting. ######################################################################## The Lost Continent Chapter 9 Jonathan had only glanced up for a moment; when he looked down, Tamara was gone. Jonathan stood up with a start. Gone! How could that be? He quickly checked that the door was still locked. There was no way that Tamara could have left without his key. Instinctively, Jonathan took a string of white beads from his pocket and nervously fumbled with it as he prayed to Agrik. The feel and sounds made by the string of teeth calmed him. It was impossible to feel nervous when holding the teeth of the last Padishah scout. * * * Tamara awoke from her nap slowly. She felt unusually weary and it took a few minutes before she was fully awake. The little man with the blue beard was gone. She stood up and squinted against the bright sun. * * * Jonathan was particularly sullen at court that afternoon. He knew that he could take pride in his accomplishments since the coup d'etat against Tamara's presidency. The university now resembled a small country rather than a school. The university still existed, but it was mostly a training ground for Jonathan's elite guard which he affectionately called his Dental Hygienists. In the past eight months he had subjugated the entire Zamoran peninsula, sealed an alliance with Lord Vox to become a member of the infamous Northern Wind, and had gained wide knowledge of the lands beyond Vashcort thanks to reading Tamara's visions. The head of the Department of Applicants approached the throne. "Your Highness, there is a member of the Skinflayers applying to the school of dentistry." "So, Lord Vox has discovered my school of dentistry. Put the student on the `waiting list.' I've also decided to scale down the school of medicine, so don't bother to find a replacement for Dr. Chokelk." "Yes, your Highness." Jonathan leaned back in his throne. The newfound alliance with the Skinflayers was already turning cold. It was time to strengthen support from the other members of the Northern Wind. "Send for Professor Manessah, he is going to visit the Order of the Octagonal Pit. The Chafin will be very interested with what I have to tell him. Oh, Agrik bless this ambassador into your holy realm!" ######################################################################## -Well Martin, I think the funeral party is over. I will go to sleep now. -Uhhh -Good night man. -Mmmm? -I see, you have smoked tooo much as usual. Well the funeral party was finally over, Wolhk should be crossing the unknow by now. Nobody knew what lies on the west, so a funeral was apropiated. Was a great party a lot of wine and even more food, there were no problems with the food since tho others were banished in the pogrom. But i'm worried the ritual was not as good as it should be there were some black clouds in the future. The vision of the plant was somewhat misty. Something was not good enough. Well only the future will tell. Meanwhile in the west. Wolhk walked with caution there were a lot of dangers travelling alone and not to consider the others, although all ahve been friendly. You never know what is going to happen next. If everything goes all right the tribe will be more powerful than ever and the supply of weapons will start to arrive. Wolhk raised a pray to Iape. -Hic!. This stuff is very gooooooooood! *SPLASH!!!* -HAHAHAHAHAHA, look at that guy HAHAHA -SHUT UO YOU SHTUPID YOU OUOUOU *SLPASH BONK* -What is happening here brothers? -Uh. Nothing MArtin is just so so stupid that the only thing to do is laugh. -Yeah that guy should be a clown. HAHAHA Mmm. Martin thought, a clow yes! Maybe is not a bad idea. I'll better go to see the Cheif. No wait he said some- thing about go to sleep. Well it can wait until tomorrow. Good night good land! Sleep well Iape will arise among us. ######################################################################## Gunnar dropped a small bag of gold on the table. "This is all we have to offer" he said, speaking for himself and his compainions. The others followed suit, laying their savings on the table, proving their loyalty to the cause with their gold. Once the money was collected, Blaen was the first to speak. "It is not much, but it is enough. We shall gather the farmers from the valley, and establish ourselves here in peace." "But we must also be prepared for war. The great empires will roll over our camp in a years time. If we cannot stand against them then, all is surely lost before begun," replied Gunnar, ever the warrior. "Then we must grow thorns, against the day death comes to tear us from our home. I prefer to think of the beauty we can bring to the land- the happiness. Perhaps such good intentions can bear fruit?" replied Blaen, hoping to stave off talk of death. Thus was the small Order of the Rose formed, late in the life of Atlantis, and Gunnar went about preparing for war, while Blaen concentrated on the arts, marshalling a small troupe of musicians, which he dubbed the Rose Petal Players, to bring joy to the land in which they lived. ######################################################################## ATLANTIS SURVEYOR (From the makers of the battle simulator comes...) ATLANTIS SURVEYOR ATLANTIS SURVEYOR Atlantis Surveyor 1.0 ATLANTIS SURVEYOR ATLANTIS SURVEYOR ATLANTIS SURVEYOR Tired of trying to figure out just how much money ATLANTIS SURVEYOR your men have in a region? Worried that your ATLANTIS SURVEYOR neighbors have more swords than you do, but too ATLANTIS SURVEYOR tired after a long day's battle to count? ATLANTIS SURVEYOR ATLANTIS SURVEYOR Well, let your surveyor do it for you. ATLANTIS SURVEYOR All with the ease of a few keystrokes, your ATLANTIS SURVEYOR surveyor can count the number of men, units, ATLANTIS SURVEYOR iron, wood, weapons, armor, and more belonging ATLANTIS SURVEYOR to you and your neighbors, in each of your regions. ATLANTIS SURVEYOR ATLANTIS SURVEYOR For your own free, no obligation copy, write: ATLANTIS SURVEYOR cyu@mit.edu ATLANTIS SURVEYOR ATLANTIS SURVEYOR While supplies last. Some assembly required. ATLANTIS SURVEYOR C compiler not included. ATLANTIS SURVEYOR ATLANTIS SURVEYOR (Unfortunately, our witchdoctors have yet to improve ATLANTIS SURVEYOR on version 1.51 of the battle simulator, but it is ATLANTIS SURVEYOR still available for those who do not have it.) ATLANTIS SURVEYOR ATLANTIS SURVEYOR Here is a portion from a sample output (numbers have ATLANTIS SURVEYOR been changed to protect the innocent): All areas: fctn units men wood iron xbow lbow swrd hrse chnm pltm silver 0 2 2 0 0 0 0 1 1 0 0 0 34 89 99 170 235 601 61 152 0 95 1 23078 G 62 15 241 0 74 0 0 1015 0 0 0 0 G 74 4 4 0 0 2 0 0 2 0 0 0 83 8 12 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 ######################################################################## Aeolius looked upon the large herd of horses frisking about in the enclosure. Things have been going well lately...The Gresir Pact had united all of the factions on this arm of their continent and had instituted a share system for resource allocation. Discussion of taxation rights were underway and a viable economy was being produced. For the present, however, he must deal with less lofty pursuits... The horse master approached wearing a ridiculous looking outfit of brownish scales and sheets *boggle* Aeolius considered the possibility that he had been spending too much time with the horses. "So, have you determined what we can do with all these horses?" Aeolius asked, eyeing his outfit couriously. The horse-master raised his arms over his head and declaired "Presenting...Leather Armour!!!". "Leather armour? does it really work? I mean...have you tested it?" "Well, not really...its still in the R&D stages, actually...but it has promise!" "What do you do with the rest of the horse?" "Well we're not sure yet...but you could eat it!" Eat a horse? how barbaric.."what does it taste like?" "err...well I've HEARD that it tastes kind of like chicken, sir" the horse-master's assistant chimed in, eager for his chance to impress the faction leader "or you could make glue from them!" glue! Aeolius considered the image of the Gresir-Pact troops spewing glue upon their enemy..."no, I think we will stick to swords and bows. The leather armor stuff has potential, though, keep working on it. Also, prepare 40 horses for some new recruits coming this way, they will need the sturdiest mounts we have." Aeolius gazed again at the horses in the enclosure. Glue! ha,ha,ha,ha ######################################################################## Drake rode through the small town which had grown up around the faction's small, adobe compound and headed out across the fields to the north. After nearly an hour of riding, he finally arrived at the small hill where the Spellweaver had been carrying on his reasearch lately. He dismounted and began the short climb to the top. Just as the circle of stones atop the hill came into view, Drake felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He hesitated for a moment then cautiously moved forward. As he crept over the rise, he saw the Spellweaver sitting halfway between the center and the edge of the circle. The Spellweaver had his back to Drake and was facing the center of the circle, chanting softly. As Drake watched, the chanting increased in volume and tempo and column of shimmering blue light appeared in the center of the circle. As the shimmering began to die down, Drake could see what appeared to be a humanoid figure within, or perhaps on the other side of the column of light. Then, the column suddenly collapsed and all was quiet. The Spellweaver sat still for several minutes. Finally, Drake cleared his throat. The Spellweaver stirred, but didn't turn around. "Yes, Captain. What do you have to report?" came the hoarse reply. Drake hesitantly began, "I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but you wanted me to keep you up to date on the movements of that ship. It seems..." "Thank you, Captain," Spellweaver interrupted. "Just leave the report there and I will look at it when I have time." Drake swallowed and placed the scroll tube just outside the edge of the circle and backed off quietly. "I appologise for disturbing you..." ######################################################################## The Adventures of the Stranded Tourists Part 6 : Polling Day Peasants filled through the polling station during the first free and fair elections held in Karothea. "Right file to vote for a Constitutional Monarchy with Janet as Queen, left file for Anarchy, Lawlessness and a laissez-faire economic system." droned Unisc the scrutineer. "Nice cakes." said Vern to his wife " Is this the right queue for more? " " Yes. ' Right is Bright, Left is Death'. " she replied parroting the slogan of the Karothean Workers & Peasants Democratic Party. ....to be contiuned ######################################################################## =-=-= END TIMES 401 =-=-= ######################################################################## Up