Atlantis Times v1.1 v02n10 From: JJC%MP068@MPA15AB.mv-oc.Unisys.COM Date: Tue, 24 May 1994 04:35:50 +0000 ######################################################################## =-=-= Atlantis Times v1.1 Volume 2 Number 10 =-=-= ######################################################################## Words from The Big Guy: Reports of battles now list losses of both sides. Due to Dave Stapleton's efforts, the report format may change in the future. I'll try to post changes here. REMEMBER, send game problems to: jjc@MPA15C.mv-oc.unisys.com. I don't read the mail at the other addresses!!! Remember, there is a limit of 72 characters per line for Times submissions. Anything over 72 characters will wrap around auto- matically. Well, we no longer have heffalump. The mailing list is no longer available. I'll keep running the game, but we really need a list server of some sort. Anybody got a system we can use? 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 ######################################################################## +-------------------------------------------+ | *********************************** | | * _ __ _ _ * | | * | \ | | | /\ | \ | \ * | | * |_/ |- | | | |__| |_/ | | * | | * | \ |__ \/ \/ | | | \ |_/ * | | * * | | *********************************** | | of SILVER and/or MILITARY AID | | | | for any information leading to the arrest | | of and/or punishment of and/or extortion | | of funds from the individual(s) and/or | | organization(s) responsible for the false | | and libelous "story" printed in last | | month's Times regarding a certain Colonel | | in Uxelberg. Colonel Leyland and his | | Regiment are in no way affiliated with | | the spurious history given them in the | | article, nor are they refugees from | | another universe, nor does the Regiment | | contain a Major Zachari. This transparent | | attempt to prepare an infiltration of the | | Regiment by the aforementioned "Zachari" | | (his military rank is certainly spurious) | | and to tarnish the Regiment's reputation | | will be met with severe retribution. | | | | Send envoys and missives to: | | Colonel Leyland, c/o Leyland's Lashers, | | at Uxelberg (11,32) (Faction 174). | | Send carrier pigeons to: | | kent@dirac.physics.jmu.edu | +-------------------------------------------+ ######################################################################## Letter from a Soldier of the Squadrons of the Rowing Doom. Well finally we have arrived in Mizip for the final showdown. It has been a tough journey first up to the Mountain of Grisbygd and the surprise attack on the Imperial forces there. That was a nice warming up. Well the brutal Skinflayers did warm up quite a bit and from what I heard the few that are still left to garrison the Mountain still chew on the remains of the Imperial forces. After the month long climb down from Grisbygd into Farafra we discovered that our strike force from PATO already had cleaned the plain from all other armed forces. The only fun left for us was to hang the imperial spies that had dared to move into Farafra again. But now alas we are at our goal. The armies from the House of Diamante and the Empire are lined up in neat battle lines. They seem to be larger in number than we. But then we have the experience and the evil, but very clever Dr VOX on our side. I don't see anything but death for the pityful forces that opposes us. I have even heard that some of their commanders plan of evacuating the continent. Good moral boost for the forces that are left. He he!!! Well on to the battle field and lets kill imperial troops!!!!! ######################################################################## There were other ways, of course. The Innkeeper had read learned treatises on the subject of population control that had dealt with the methods of water contamination, resource competition and large-scale military action. On the whole, though, the Innkeeper preferred Feet. He rose from his resting place, and headed down the hill path towards his home town of Foothill in Carrigaline. Behind him, two huge Feet, five yards each from heel to toe, padded silently. When this operation was over, mused the Innkeeper to himself, he would put the Feet to work processing grapes for the mass production of the Recipe - the Brotherhood's unique brand of ale. For the Feet, it would be much the same sort of task, really. At sundown, man and Feet arrived at the Inn. The Innkeeper paused a moment to gaze at the building in which the Brotherhood had been born. Had it really been a year since he had last set foot inside? He sighed, and pushed open the door. The Feet remained outside. Almost before the door had closed, one started to tap impatiently. ######################################################################## We love our island in the sun Every day we have such fun We sing and dance we laugh and play The time just seems to fly away You're with us here in happy land Why don't you join our merry band You'll find that life can be so good You'll not have to work for food And when at night you stop to rest You'll know that you are with the best Loriman cringed, these subjects of his were supposed to be entertaining the populace for money. They would probably get more if they promised to shut up and go away. Rine definately needed to train them some more. There singing was all right but that song. He hoped that the new material would arrive soon. ######################################################################## THWAACK! "Yow!" That's the sound of a peasant trying to juggle with a crossbow. Something almost resembling the hint of a smile passed over Sludge's face as he watched the newly formed Tax and Juggling Corps practice. They were the first entertainment troupe he'd had that got paid by the peasants to practice. Or rather, they got paid by the peasants to practice somewhere else. THWAACK! "Yow!" Sludge couldn't really complain. The magician was back in his study, soaking up resources and contributing nothing. But even that was all right; especially after the magician had show Sludge how easy it was for a magician to call lightning from the skies. No problem, study all you want, Sludge had said. THWAACK! "Eeeyow!" Sludge sat on the ground, content. For once, it seemed as if things were going his way. THWAACK "Hey!" Sludge yelled, "That was close!" ------------------------------- The Skulking Vermin! World renowned entertainers and vagabonds. More stupid one-liners than Laugh In! ------------------------------- Skulking Vermin (109) ######################################################################## Reading the Atlantis Times last month was a very interesting experience. Among other things, person was asking others to write in an unusual language, C++, for a GUI interface. This man is surely a powerful magician to be able to understand such things. My summoner impresses me with his skill and displays of power. When I asked her about the article on GUI she was not phased but replied with a completed text-based reader written in REXX. She has made this available to all who require a text-based program to check turn files, read report files and track the skills and assets of all units. This is available from nigel@server.ch.adfa.oz.au and ask for the Atlantis Tracker. ######################################################################## ATLANTIS TIMES SCOOP: THE SECRET OF "FFFOOOOOPP! In a previous Atlantis Times exclusive, it was reported that an entire band of Mages had disappeared from the town of Badalona, and that it was suspected that they had discovered a spell to do so. This spell became known as "Fffoooopp!", after the noise that it produced. In an exclusive interview with the reclusive sage known only as `Vysage`, the Atlantis Times has discovered the true nature of the "Fffooooopp" phenomenon. "Time travel indeed! Its not suprising that all these mainstream mages have again barked up the wrong tree" said the sage. "If they spent more time reading the scholarly literature and less reading light entertainment or trying to blow each other up, they would have recognised this as a phenomenon that I have reported many times." "However", continued Vysage, "the reason I have decided to speak to you today is that I am now ready to reveal how the spell is performed! It is one of the most elemental of spells, requiring only concentration to perform. Or should I say, supreme lack of concentration." "Yes - I am pleased to reveal today that the effect you refer to as `Ffooooopp` is in fact nothing short of pure enlightenment! To achieve it, the participants in the `spell` must all do precicely _nothing_ for 5 whole months! If they can achieve this feat of meditation then - `Ffooooopp` - all of a sudden they will be transported to Nirvana, leaving behind nought but a wisp of smoke!" - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - STOP PRESS: 'Ffooooopp' mantra discovered. Sage Vysage claims that the mere incantation of this four letter word leads to `Ffoooopp!` For safety reasons, this paper is withholding the exact incantation! ######################################################################## Doktor Vox stood atop the hill and looked grimly over the fields of Mizip, towards the wooden fort that he knew housed the resurrected Emperor. And more importantly, a number of fairly competent bowmen. This would be no cake-walk, like the mountain slaughter before. True, the Diamante nobility were in disarray, and the remnants of the Padishah empire had barely thirty knights left to field. But still, Vox was unhappy to be facing nearly three hundred enemy with a force less than half that size. This was when those tactics books would come in handy! And the mages assured him their bolts would decimate this ragged force before they could cause much harm. But it would be a red October indeed...Vox smiled, a glimmer of something not quite sane in his eyes. The smell of blood, and ozone-roasted flesh... Vox snapped out of his reverie as the scout approached and gave a low bow. "Oh most revered and exalted Lord Vivisectionist and Dour-Handed Conqueror of Mountains, I bring news." Vox acknowledged him, making a mental note to think of some shorter forms of polite address. "Out with it, scout. Have you discovered what happened to our ballistas and black-boots?" The scout looked serious. "M'lord, it appears they encountered a hastily erected enemy roadblock in Farafra as they rode through. A Diamante scout must have arrived there just before our men started their ride, and cleverly arranged to block our progress." Vox scowled. "Bah! More likely random bad luck than anything carefully planned, coming from this crew. I trust the scout you mentioned has been treated appropriately?" The scout smiled slightly, handing Vox a wrapped package. "We tried to keep it warm for you. Blackened entrails with Padishah spice, wrapped in cured strips of Diamante miner-skin." Vox accepted the brunch gratefully and sent the scout on his way. Bad news about the reinforcements, but at least all the mages made the trip successfully. Vox finished the last of his treat, licked his fingers, and waved to Cronas, Vermithrax, and Felix as they came up the hill. It was time for final assault planning, for tonight... the Emperor's skin would finally be his. ######################################################################## ASK DR. DUNCAN Q: Dr. Duncan, if a unit knows how to use both a bow and a sword, which will it use if attacked? A: The unit must have a weapon before it can use a weapon. Just being trained in the weapon won't do. However, I'll assume that your unit also has a bow and a sword. In that case it will use the bow. Q: Why, Dr. Duncan? A: The people of Atlantis are a very superstitious lot. If someone knows how to use a combat spell and is willing to use it, the spell will be the first choice. The mythical Runesword will be the second choice. The urge to use a Runesword is so strong that it will overcome logic. A person behind the front lines will swing this sword attempting to hit the enemy which is out of reach. The third choice is the longbow followed by the crossbow. The least favorite weapon is the sword, which is realized to be better than bare hands. The lack of preference for the sword is understandable if you consider that there is a fear of being possessed by the famed Runesword. An ordinary sword, which does resemble a Runesword, will be avoided if there is another weapon that can be used. Q: Fascinating, are there any similar preferences for armor? A: Yes, however the preferences are more practical than superstitious. The mythical cloak of invulnerability will be used first (who wouldn't want to be invulnerable?). The second choice is plate armor. Chain mail will be used before fighting naked. It is rumored that Dr. Vox and his band of Skinflayers use leather armor that has been treated with some kind of spice to preserve it and give it strength. Q: Where do you learn all of this stuff? A: Dr. Duncan obtained his degree from the University of Zamora. His dissertation was a study of the ancient writings (including breaking the secrets of the ancient language and the knowledge that the vernacular translation has errors in critical passages). This work and Dr. Duncan's continuing study of the ancient texts make the university one of the best research institutions in Atlantis. Here is an excerpt from the "Lost Book of Atlantis" in its original, ancient language: if (items[I_HORSE] && skills[SK_RIDING] >= 2 && terrain == T_PLAIN) t->skill += 2; Dr. Duncan may be mistaken, but he interprets this to mean that a skill of 2 in riding is required to gain a bonus of 2 in combat. Additional insight and knowledge has been gained by praying to the mighty Agrik. In deep states of meditation this allowed Dr. Duncan to talk personally with The Big Guy. A recent revelation from The Big Guy causes the need for Dr. Duncan to make a correction to his September submission to the Journal of Advanced Learning (which was also published in the Atlantis Times). The cavalry bonus is now equal to the riding skill up to a maximum of 2 (this does not change the conclusions of the September work). Surely the ancient writings have not been distorted over the eons! It is said that they were written during the previous epoch and that new, unrevealed texts apply to this epoch. Knowledge of these "Undiscovered Texts" can only be obtained by revelations from The Big Guy himself. ######################################################################## Chroniques Alchimiques de Sark de Sombreval. (...) Cette journee s'annoncait sombre et sanglante,malgre mes effort pour la paix,je ne parvenais pas a entrer en contact avec cette faction rebelle qui avait embusque Joss dans la plaine. L'armee levee pour mettre a un terme aux actions malefiques de notre voisin sembla soudain prise de fureur et de rage,marchant avec acharnement vers le champ de bataille,en oubliant vivres et bagages.Personne ne s'en rendit vraiment compte,les hommes pensant sans doute trouver un large festin a leur arrivee dans ces terres pour le moins inhospitalieres.Apres un mois de jeun,nous arriverent en bon ordre dans cette plaine maudite ou les hommes commencerent alors a deperir de facon alarmante,je ne me souviens pas avoir vu de cas semblables depuis mon depart de l'ile des fous;bavant et crachant,se tordant de douleurs et de spasmes des plus surnaturels, aucun d'entre eux ne survecu un jour de plus.L'oeuvre du demon,me dis je tout naturellement,pensant que cette fois,il n'etait pas de mon cote,d'autant que mon eleve le plus doue perit de meme dans l'affaire et aurait du pouvoir se premunir contre une telle sorcellerie. Le doute s'empara de moi comme mon chevalier s'empare de ses armes pour la bataille,anxieusement et froidement,avec une implacable certitude,je me rendis a l'idee qu'un puissant demon protegait notre enemi.L'incertain pouvoir de la magie en ces terres sera t'il capable de me proteger contre son influence ? Je me remis en place en face de mon attirail attivement tire de son precieux coffre en ebene.Je vais tenter a nouveau de contacter cet homme qui ne se donne pas d'autre nom que "quarante trois",et cette fois,me dis je avec un sourire sarcastique,nous verrons s'il est vraiment protege par une puissance tenebreuse. (...) - Sark The Dark Mage - ######################################################################## Derek sat in his comfortable horse-hide chair, crouched over the latest copy of the Atlantis Times. At least he thought it was horse-hide; those nice men who sold it to him never actually said that it was horse-hide. Oh, he knew the rumors about those SkinFlayers, but he doubted anyone was capable of the things that they supposedly did. And besides, how could anyone who made such a fine chair be all that bad? Despite his pleasure at sitting in such a comfortable chair, Derek's brow furrowed as he read on. "How can this be? Last month, the revelation that the Thoughtmages of Drakewood have mastered the flow of time and space. Now this month, invisible giants! Why am I having so little success?" With this, Derek jumped out of his chair, forgetting all about the subtle pleasure of its touch. Well, not completely forgetting. Truth be told, he rather missed the chair already, and wished he could return to its delicate embrace. But no, he had important business. He burst into the magic room, pushing aside the mass of dusty, rotting tomes that had collapsed in front of the doorway. Ducking under the web of tubing that led from the strange beakers on the runed workbench to the seething cauldron, he stopped in front of his two apprentices. Hunched over a little pile of strange dusts, the two were intent on their weird task, delicately stirring and mixing the dusts together in precise patterns. "You two, what have you been doing this month? Puttering around, that's what! Years of study we've put in, and what have we accomplished? A few piddling, weak spells; while other mages are discovering great works of power and might! From now on, not a waking moment is to be spent on anything but magic! There'll be no more slacking any more." The two apprentices did not so much as turn their heads, despite the fury of the tongue-lashing that Derek was giving them. Well, Derek did start out with quite a bit of fury, but in all honesty, his fury abated out after the first few word. His thoughts returned to his wonderful chair, and it was hard for him to keep his fury mustered while he was thinking about his chair. "Well, that's better then. Back to work." With this Derek turned and fled for the comfort of his chair. What was it about that simple horse-hide chair that made it so delightful? ######################################################################## Baron Reynolds hurried into the tent, eager to hear the news. A messenger, months overdue, had finally arrived with word from House Diamante. Minutes later, angry shouts erupted from the tent. The messenger burst out, fleeing for his life, followed by the Baron, who was crying out for a sword to end the wretch's miserable life. Later, when calm was restored, Reynolds explained to his small band of officers. "House Diamante says there will be no reinforcements coming. None! Lord Duncan cites 'higher priorities' elsewhere. We've sat on our hands, suffering indignities from this psychopath vivisectionist and his cronies, waiting for aid, and we get NOTHING! "I hereby declare, we are no longer vassals of Diamante. If they won't help us in our hour of need, then they'll get no more loyalty, tribute, or taxes from us! Today I found House Reynolds! Strike the name Diamante from all signposts, smash the filigreed china, and burn all the old stationery. Better yet, pack it all up and send it to Vox, with a polite note suggesting in the future he obtain parchment from the village stores like normal people do." Someone asked, "My lord Baron, I fear your cousins will accept this rejection of House Diamante. For some, this will be seen as treason." "Yes, that's possible, but of no consequence. Sir Oster and Sir Ostvald would have been problems, but they're already dead and turned into box lunches by the Doctor. The only others remaining on this continent of Diamante blood, besides myself and the Lady Covel, are Laertes and Bascon in Mizip, and with all the enemy troops in Mizip, they're likely to be dead before they have a chance to object. Larry is too distant a relative, and has more to gain by staying with us than going back to Diamante; and Pilsner was always more interested in questing than politics - he'll follow whomever says he's in charge. The other knights were all raised from local families; I trust their loyalty lies more with me than with a bunch of negligent strangers they've never met." "But now to other matters. With no help coming from House Diamante, it is time to end this waiting game. I'll not lose all my territories like sheep. Send word to Laertes: The time is right to strike back at our enemies! Perhaps we'll lose, but better to face the bull before it gores you than to turn your back and hope it goes away by itself. This time, it won't be just Diamante - er, Reynolds - blood flowing by the end of the month!" Later, in the privacy of the royal tent, Jonathan Reynolds spoke quietly with his cousin Covel Diamante, an attractive dark-haired woman with a scholarly bent. A dynasty needed both male and female leaders, and the unspoken attraction between the pair had been clear to all. Two days later, with none as witnesses but soldiers, common laborers, and trolls, the pair was wed and the dynasty begun. Long live House Reynolds! ######################################################################## Received: from mail.unigate1.unisys.com (sys1) by mvdns1 (4.1/SMI-4.1-1. 6) id AA21394; Sat, 21 May 94 05:04:42 PDT Received: from ecoult (ecoult.ncsu.edu) by mail.unigate1.unisys.com (4. 1/SMI-4.1 ) id AA26097; Sat, 21 May 94 12:17:50 GMT Received: from PEVSC.DECnet MAIL11D_V3 by ecoult (5.57/ECO NCSU/11/11/ 90) id AA02529; Sat, 21 May 94 08:08:30 -0400 Date: Sat, 21 May 94 08:08:29 -0400 Message-Id: <9405211208.AA02529@ecoult> From: larson%pevsc.UniGate1.Unisys.COM@mvdns1 To: @times@UniGate1 Cc: LARSON@ecoult Subject: Atlantis Times submission ######################################################################## War of Ballandine Aggression, Report from the front #2 Dateline Lorthalm September Year 2 The battle of Lorthalm was a disaster for my faction. I lost about 200 men and inflicted only 6 casualties. I had my ~50 man weaponsmith unit(which was heavily loaded up with swords) avoid combat which lowered my "breakpoint" to about 125 men, so the battle was very brief. Sir Aubec (Tactics level 5!) gave the Ballandines a free round. Between their swordsmen and 5 wizards, this almost broke me before I could attack. The first round lasted only long enough for me to go over 50% casualties. I killed 6 men, but then broke due to losses from swords and crossbows (the round didn't even last long enough for any of the Ballandine wizards to attack). They then continued the slaughter in the pursuit round. I only had 8 survivors from my front line troops. Observations. 1) The Ballandines attempted to attack every unit of mine, so no one could avoid, but made a mistake which allowed by weaponsmiths and their 164 swords to escape. They had one of their units use the syntax: Attack 1 Attack 2 etc This is not the correct format, so only the first unit listed was attacked. (The GM commented that winners can't attack again, but that losers can!). I know from sad experience that the teach command works the same way (All units taught must be on the same line). [ed. Bill is mistaken here. The format used was correct. It was the fact that winners who take losses cannot attack again that saved the weaponsmiths. Sorry Bill, I think I forgot to CC you on one of the messages I sent regarding the battle.] 2) 10 lightning bolts killed 54 men. My estimate that lightning bolts kill an average of 6 may be a little high. I anticipate that I will get a lot more experimental data than I want on this courtesy of the Ballandines. This turn will be quiet as the Ballandine army was celebrating their victory and so didn't move and my survivors ran away. I did leave one of survivors (who was guarding) behind, so they didn't get any taxes last turn. Next turn it will be interesting to see which way the Ballandines march their army. The force in Lorthalm has 304 swords and 10 crossbows. They can pursue my fleeing weaponsmiths to the east, or march south to take possession of Victoria mountain (via Oloron swamp). I don't think they have the strength to do both. Next week: A report on which way the Ballandine Aggressors army moved. The above report generated by the scribes of faction 59, "Larson's Adventurers", formed in Gurkacre (9,14) on Jan 01 reachable at "Bill_Larson@ncsu.edu" ######################################################################## Dear Laurathoron, We prepare to leave tomorrow, things are tough, especially with the reality of war. Yesterday, during the fray, we lost many friends, although we defeated the cowardly foe. Your daughter Islena fell in the first attack, valiantly engaging the foe when vastly outnumbered. Lady Iridal shares your loss. Laurathoron stood silently for a moment, then moved slowly into the tent. For a short time, he sat still, then a faint trembling started in his shoulders. It grew in severity until he shook violently, teeth chattering as if from bitter cold. Then tears came unbidden to his cheeks. Without a sound he gasped for breath, as the pain became unbearable, a seed of cold fury forming, and displacing the hot pain of grief. These invaders had savaged his homeland of Ebonok and taken his daughter, and many Hugon friends lay dead because of them. His face grew even grimmer as he made a silent vow to destroy these invaders whatever the cost. ######################################################################## From the Diary of Lord Zucchini September Year 02 The last thing Lord Zucchini clearly remembered from his escape was looking down into a well with a swirling blue mist at the bottom. As the mist entranced and enveloped him, along with his brother, Lord Cucumber, he thought he might have heard the sounds of pursuit echoing hollowly in the distant tunnels, but he couldn't be sure. His torch was no longer in his hand and he seemed to float in the darkness, like a baby in a womb. It could have lasted minutes or months, he couldn't tell. He was in a hypnotic state, half awake, half dreaming. Gradually he became aware of a presence, observing him. "Who are you?", asked Zucchini drowsily, not realizing the danger he was now in. "Ich bin der Ur-Nebel des schwarzen Universums. Ich habe zauberische Maechte, wovon du nicht einmal traeumen kannst, denn es fehlt dir die geistliche Kraft, sie ueberhaupt zu begreifen. Wenn du mir anbetest, mir deine Seele verkaufst, werde ich dir auch einige Maechte erteilen. Du wirst diese widerliche Welt 'Atlantis' zwingen, meine Herrschaft zu erkennen, und alle werden mich, die Verkoerperung des Boesen, verehren. Dein Leben haengt von deinem Antwort ab. Was sagst du, du winzige, armselige Kreatur?" "Uh, could you repeat that in a language I can understand?", muttered Zucchini. "What!", thundered the mysterious presense, "You dare to taunt ME, the allmighty well-spring of ancient evil?! No, I can see that your brain is so puny that you are incapable of understanding the language of the gods. Probably even if I gave you a dictionary. And you are totally lacking in all the appropriate virtues: hunger for power, an inclination towards gratuituous acts of evilness, and diabolical cunning. The mist rejects you, you and you addled brother. But instead of utterly destroying you in the blink of an eye, I will spit you out and let my true disciples make use of you." With that, Lords Zucchini and Cucumber found themselves flying out of a vat into a dimly lit room. They splattered up against a wall and fell to the floor with a dull thud. A vile smelling blue liquid dripped from their clothes as they regained their senses. Looking around, they spied a stairway. They appeared to be in a cellar. There were scuff marks and fresh bloodstains on the floor. The latter convinced them that is would be wise to vacate the area with all possible haste. Making their way up the stairs, they exited into a inn. "Hey", exclaimed Cucumber, "this looks familiar! This is the inn in Salen!" The Innkeeper was nowhere to be seen. The inn seemed to have changed since they had last seen it. It was darker, sinister. Out of the shadows in a far corner stepped a figure in a black cloak. "You!" it hissed. "Who are you? You have violated the sanctity of the Inner Sanctum. From the looks of you, you've been taking a bath in our tub of Unholy Water! This is an outrage!" "No, not us", denied Zucchini, "it was a one-armed man." "Yeah, that's right!" agreed Cucumber, "I swear." Just then there was a hair-raising scream in the distance followed by a single deafening thud, and the floor of the inn lurched as the ground shuddered beneath them. "Atlantisquake!", yelled Cucumber, "run for it before the inn falls in on us!" They rushed past the reeling servant of the Mist, out the door of the inn, and ran south through the forest without looking back. They ran and ran for days, scratching themselves so badly that not even Dr. Vox would want their skin, eating bark and berries, till at last they came to a great plain. There was a sign standing at the border. It said: *** Welcome to Morella *** Population: 4129 peasants 73 Gnomes ######################################################################## As the winds brought the threat of snow to the foothills, the army grew in size and skill, and the stormclouds of war grew apace with the snowclouds of winter. ######################################################################## =-=-= END TIMES 210 =-=-= ######################################################################## Up