Message-Id: <199803221921.NAA09465@zoom.bga.com>
Date: Sun, 22 Mar 1998 13:21:57 -0400
From: "Quinn@GhostWheel" <someone@ghostwheel.mud.org>
To: quinn@netsville.com
Subject: GhostWheel Message(s) 457 - 496 from *storylines (#5236)
Status: U

Message 457 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Fri Feb 13 05:18:07 1998 EST
From:     Rathe (#14172)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  The blight and the balance

A slight breeze blew across the treetops of Drach'Nal, trees rustling faintly,
a cloud of dead leaves spinning in the early november air. Farmers paused
briefly to enjoy the breeze--the weather had been somewhat akilter this
season, the temperatures just beginning to drop this late in the year. Nervous
villages took no time to pause for the breeze, rushing about their buisness,
for fear that one of the local 'constables' might question them. Those
approached by the shifty-eyed men were not often seen again, and grisly rumors
abounded. The police themselves in turn watched the peasants, eager for some
excuse to steal a few crystals, or liberate one of the cheap iron swords that
most wore in the once peaceful village.
Crouched on the edge of his tower's windowsill, Rathe studied the scene below
him, his gaze almost that of some predatory bird. In his black cloak and
robes, completely untouchd by the brief breeze, he almost looked the part of
some strange, pale-skinned raven.
His thoughts would have been unreadable to anyone standing nearby, not that
any local would come near the laboratory on any but the most urgent buisness,
much less look for its occupant. His face was a cold, emotionless mask, his
dark blue eyes constantly scanning the valley floor far below--the eye
movement being the only sign that he was not some gargoyle carved from the
tower's stone. His thoughts, however, were all but cool. Rage roiled within
him, at Toraxyn for his insolence, at Ylaerin for the rediculous letter she
had written him.. And that anger paling like the glow of candle flame before a
bonfire--the rage that filled him every time his eyes settled on the dark mass
of Morlith.
He raised his hand, the first movement he had made in several hours, smoothing
the parchment letter with clawlike fingers. He murmered to himself as he read,
and shook his head, eventually tossing the paper into the air, where it slowly
broke up and dissolved into dust. He had more importiant things to worry about
than that fool girl, he reminded himself, letting his hand drop.
"So many things..", he murmered quietly. All things blocking the way to his
ultimate goal. "The planes cross, wars are won, wars are lost. The child-queen
sits upon the throne of air. How it glows, how it burns my eyes, still.." his
eyes drifted to Morlith once again. "'Oh my beautiful liar, oh my precious
whore..'", he quoted, a dark smile briefly crossing his lips. "Child of
dragons, how pitiful.. How foolish. Weak, yet I cannot take from you what is
mine. Mine by right. Mine by blood." He chuckled. "The foolish and weak
conquered by the weaker. Stryfe, who would have made me his lesser in his
court. Who's plans I destroyed for reasons seeming so simple, so foolish now."
He shook his head. "Now, again, the child-queen, watches from her throne, the
lizards of fire, ice and lightning gloat. Their riders strut and parade. I am
forgotten by many of the fools, yet one.. One.." He rose his upturned hand,
now devoid of the destroyed letter. "And I am remembered for my 'bravery'" his
lips twisted into a smirk. "My bravery, courage, and honor... Do they suspect
that my bravery was a mask for betrayal? My courage for deceit? My honor for
failure..?"
He gave a bitter laugh, his eyes drifting to the ground, then the sky. "Do I
look to the heavens for guidance, or do I look to the hells? Where, when you
have defied that which lies above, and challenged that which lies below? Nay,
no solace in either. Never rest, never comfort. When you throw aside
everything for vision.. for ambition.. for obesession..  Where, then, do you
find council? Not your friends, friends who follow for greed.. Not your
allies, who follow for fear. No.. Then your only council lies with yourself.."
He launched himself from the window, an intricate net of air catching him in
mid-flight and lowering him untill his boots touched soil. Gravel and leaves
crunched beneath his feet as he stalked through the village, directly to the
local transporter pod. Slamming it with his fist, he sourly waited for the
transport to land, and boarded. His thoughts suddenly clear, he murmered his
destination to the onboard computer. He would go to the druid tree. Eldorath.
He would retreive what was his, what he had left there so long ago. And with
the goddess's essense stolen from her very busom, he would unleash again the
blight of shadow on these tortured, blasted lands. Nyx.. Nyx. A name to bring
fear. A name to bring hatred..A name to bring justice.
Laughing softly to himself, he glanced out the transport's window as he sped
off towards his destination The circle of blackened, twisted earth surrounding
his tower laboratory only made his laugh louder.

--------------------------


Message 458 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Fri Feb 13 16:04:47 1998 EST
From:     Styx (#1610)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Something ODd

Has been seen roaming around New Genesis....

--------------------------


Message 459 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Fri Feb 13 22:03:36 1998 EST
From:     Stryfe (#5113)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Infestation

Stryfe put his fingers to his throbbing temples the lack of sleep for forty
eight hours getting to him.
A young guardsman rushed into the area, breaking the blessed quiet with his
excited shout: More found in the dining hall m'lord!
Stryfe winced. "Do not yell. Or I will have your head." The young guard
instantly paled looked about to speak then just nodded mutely. "Now. How many
more of these...these...slugs did you find?"
The guardsman said very softly, "threescore m'lord."
"Threescore more of those slimy things found. Burn them. And be quick about
it."
The guardsman snapped a quick salute and, -quietly-, left as quick as he was
able.

--------------------------


Message 460 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Fri Feb 13 22:17:49 1998 EST
From:     Sorrow (#20478)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  ...

Sorrow stood on the heli-pad of the R/T Building. Before him he could see the
horizon and the setting sun. Slowly he paced back and forth, muttering to
himself. It had been almost two weeks since he let the Lord know he wished to
join, but how long would he have to wait to find out if he was excepted.
Sorrow hated the waiting, it made the time go so much slower. He looked out
towards the horizon again. Somewhere He was out there, and Sorrows future
depended on him.


--------------------------


Message 461 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Fri Feb 13 22:29:51 1998 EST
From:     Mourir (#21818)
To:       *storylines (#5236)

Mourir felt Nyx's rage almost immediatly as she ran through the garden.  "Come
back here, whelp child!  I made you what you are!  YOU ARE MINE!"  The voice
echoed angrily from all around. Fright gave her the impetus to keep running,
past thorns and blighted plants as they all tried to block her path.  She
didn't stop till she fell face first into the grass and mist of Wolf Moon
Valley.
A low growl suddenly forced her to lift her head, staring right into the eyes
of... a black unicorn?  It glared down at her with reddened eyes, snorting
coal black smoke into her face.  She trembled, remembering Nyx's words on
black ones... poisonous.  Then as suddenly as it had seemed to appear, it
vanished from her sight, a high pitched whine proceeding as if the creature
were caught off guard.
Mourir pulled herself to her feet and trudged on.  Apparently Nyx was right...
her world was returning and that meant that she would want herself free, soon.

--------------------------


Message 462 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sat Feb 14 01:17:06 1998 EST
From:     Tadewi (#16048)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Dreamscapes and Night mares.

Tadewi felt along the walls of the darkened maison, the dagger clutched
tightly in her hand.  It had been a very long time since Tearsong had known
bloodshed... .and it would be reintroduced tonight.  She paused briefly at the
top of the stairs.  The sound of water echoed before, endless waves lapping at
nearly the top of the carpeted stairs.
Undaunted, she continued down the hallway, nearing the door to her old
bedroom, the Crimson Chamber.  Rathe slept quietly behind the huge cherrywood
door, unaware that his own wife had murder in her veins this night.
The door opened soundlessly, as it had always done for Tadewi and she entered
as gracefully as an avenging angel.  Intent on her target, she seemed to lose
all contact with the earth, floating gently on the air.  Feathery wings opened
up from her back and a halo of pure gold appeared just above her golden hair,
glowing faintly in the pure darkness.
She leaned down beside Rathe's prone body, whispering faintly into his ear,
"Remember I'll always love you... even as I tear your throat away."  Rathe's
eyes opened in time to catch the blade glinting in the slight glow enaminating
from Tadewi, and his scream echoed throughout the Maison as she slashed his
throat with Tearsong....

Tadewi awoke with a near scream in her throat.  She gasped for breath, then
looked down at her hands and screamed.
Tearsong, her old dagger that was long ago put away in the attic, sat in her
lap.  The blade was clean, and glinted at her malevolently.

--------------------------


Message 465 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sat Feb 14 14:27:49 1998 EST
From:     Rathe (#14172)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Note posted to the wall in the real/time lounge, and to Eldorath (I'm gonna post it RIGHT this time. Nyeah)

Greetings once again, people of the wheel. Its everybody's favorite
 necromantic adept, here with another bit of fun for you all.
The druids have something of mine. Lovinia and Baltisaar have been given the
 honor of returning this stolen object.. I have in my care their child,
 Antoine.. Really a cute lil' brat.
Now.. if this object I seek is not returned to me within four days, this cute
 little child's soul will go to fuel the burning heart of the necropolis,
while his
 body, bit by bit, will feed the corrupted gardens of Wolf Moon.
How horrible, you say? Oh, indeed. Lets all hope dear Lovinia values the
 health and sanity of her little tyke, lest this child be forfeit..

Adept Rathe

--------------------------


Message 466 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sat Feb 14 16:06:14 1998 EST
From:     Eponine (#3791)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Rumor hazzat....

That a unicorn has been spotted on the GhostWheel Plains.

--------------------------


Message 467 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sat Feb 14 21:15:04 1998 EST
From:     Rathe (#14172)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  wanted

2 large airplane metal aircraft wings.
4 jet engines
1 welding torch

--------------------------


Message 468 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sat Feb 14 21:16:58 1998 EST
From:     Bishamon (#23011)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  wanted

2 large bags of women's underwear
4 boxes of latex
1 female test subject

--------------------------


Message 469 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sat Feb 14 21:20:30 1998 EST
From:     Rathe (#14172)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Also wanted

One large (10ft) black dildo with nessescary attachments for a mech. Here
dragon dragon ...

--------------------------


Message 470 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sat Feb 14 22:06:36 1998 EST
From:     Kynwal (#20497)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Confirmation

Kynwal left the Winter Palace not at all amused. His meeting with Nicnivin had
gone as he had expected. She confirmed nothing. Nor did she deny anything. She
was a master of playing the game of deception. But he knew his answer already.
Somehow, she was expanding her realm into the outer world. Consuming it. The
question was how did she plan to bring it about?

--------------------------


Message 471 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 15 01:15:46 1998 EST
From:     Abe (#21180)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  damn sprites..... 

Abe opened his eyes and yawned, only to have a fly zoom in his mouth. He
quickly spit it out, noticing this 'bug' was glowing and stumbling about the
floor where it landed, muttering obsenities...
 "what the hell are you??" abe asked to the creature, only to be answered by a
chorous of tiny, high-pitched voices, "_SPRITES!!_"  said a swarm of creatures
as they jumped from each of their hiding places in the barn..
Abe smiled and watched the tiny strites as the giggled and played around him,
and he helped clean off the spit-covered one with his tunic, watching it join
his fellows..
 "*we want to be your friend!*" they all said in unison, and giggled..

--------------------------


Message 472 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 15 02:59:23 1998 EST
From:     Renna (#12014)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Transformations.

Renna sighed, her voice now a higher pitch then it had been just this morning.
Floating into her treehouse room, she was left to wonder how to get rid of
this sudden change in appearance.  She pondered all the strange happenings
lately, unicorns on Ghostwheel, Trolls bartenders at the R/T Lounge, sprites
and slugs and all manner of creatures once thought to be pure legend.  And
apparently she was one of them.  A pixie no less.
Glancing at her rail thin body in the mirror she noticed now her body had
turned green in skin tone and groaned to herself.  "I have to meet Gabriel's
father soon! What could possibly be next?"  Of course, she really didn't want
to know.

--------------------------


Message 473 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 15 03:02:47 1998 EST
From:     Williker (#20481)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Blearrr!

Williker awoke, yawning and scratching his chest sleepily. He stood up and
looked about his room, passing his gaze by a mirror. He stopped and did a
double take, gasping. His hair long and his face covered by a thick beard. He
groaned and went to see what the hell was happening.

--------------------------


Message 474 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 15 11:10:28 1998 EST
From:     Red_Fang (#5907)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  changes

Red got up and showered and shaved.. He combed his hair neatly and dressed in
a three piece suit.. He thought to himself, . o O ( why would I wanna dress
like a 20th century busness man? )  Wierd..  He even brushed his teeth..


--------------------------


Message 475 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 15 11:21:13 1998 EST
From:     Lykaj (#6068)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Changes

Lykaj watched Red Fang leave his house dressed in a three piece suit. Smelling
his minty breath from a distance he mused to himself, "He actually looks
kindof good like that.""
Lykaj turned and left quickly. The doublemint song running through his head.
"Something wierd is going on."

--------------------------


Message 476 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 15 11:35:52 1998 EST
From:     Sorrow (#20478)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  ...

Sorrow moved about with renewed energy. Last nights encounter with the white
unicorn had reawoken the energies he had lost when he arrived in the world. He
wasn't sure why the unicorn had such an effect on him, but he knew he would
seek the unicorn out, and see if more exposure would awaken more.
Sorrow moved about his tent, until he happened to catch a tiny glimps of his
reflection in the blade of his sword. He laughed almost insanely to himself.
He was returning to his old self, his old form. Already slight changes could
be seen; his hair was a bit darker, and finer, his face seemed more angular
then before. Sorrow smiled, how good it would feel to be in his own body once
agian, perhaps the secret to returning home would come back to him. Sorrow
pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, he was not yet ready to reveal the
changes.

--------------------------


Message 477 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 15 11:58:17 1998 EST
From:     Eponine (#3791)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Another odd sighting.

The man laughed, mostly from the humor of the old man's tale, not really from
the four mugs of ale he'd already consumed in the Tinder Box that evening.  He
turns slightly on his barstool to face the old bastard, a smug expression on
his face, "First there's a white unicorn out there, ye say, now there's a
black one wandering about?  If you're not drinking too much, ye should start."
The old man squinted at the younger, frustration with the generation gap
growing, "I'm telling you what I saw, Donal, and if ye know what's good for
ye, you'll be careful when walking the Plains from here on out.  That thing is
evil, black hide, glowing red eyes and it's horn!  Why that thing is poison to
boot!"
The rest of the bar laughed, shrugging off the old man's ramblings, yet there
was an uneasiness in the Tinderbox anyway.  Most had already seen something
odd somewhere along the way, but no one was really willing to admit it.

--------------------------


Message 478 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 15 12:17:00 1998 EST
From:     Coreen (#18717)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Questions and more questions...

	Coreen walked along the beach on Jizo, the soft humid wind causing
her robes to ripple out behind her as she headed home. She often liked
to think as she walked, and this day she had much to think about. Julian.
A most perplexing individual. His presence was not easy to ignore, and
most anyone could fall prey to his tongue of silver if they weren't
careful. He seemed to know a good deal about magic and showed much
potential...almost too much, in fact. She chuckled at the thought of
his attentions to her, his civility, his eyes... He was a crafty one
indeed... A mini-rex scampered out of the underbrush and looked up at her
with curious eyes, then scampered off again. She grinned. Julian was
treading on dangerous ground...he was attempting to influence her...
perhaps even control her. He was either very insane, or very very
foolish. Time would tell on that one. In the meantime, he could prove to
be an interesting remedy to the boredom which plagued her. The breeze
blew again, and Coreen raised a hand to push a stray lock of hair behind
her ear - then, she frowned. Stooping down next to a small pool that had
formed in a circle of rocks on the beach, she dipped a finger in the water
making it as reflective as a mirror. Her eyes widened slightly as she
discovered her ears had become very elfin. She had done this trick often
around Rathe, but this was not her doing. A rustling of the bushes again
and out popped the mini-rex that had crossed her path before. Its coat
was mottled with bright colors now...colors that shifted and made
intricate patterns. Coreen glanced out across the ocean. "Something is
afoot..." she thought to herself, continuing home.

--------------------------


Message 479 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 15 14:09:10 1998 EST
From:     Tarla (#18104)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Strange things are afoot.....

Tarla rose slowly from the bed she shared with her sister, her head a bit
fuzzy from the rum the night before.  Groaning softly, she moved towards the
bathroom, swatting at the annoying little creatures that had very recently
begun to infest thier home.

She stood under the hot spray of water, running her hands over her skin to aid
in rinsing the soap away... and a puzzled frown crossed her face.... the
dirt.... what she had THOUGHT was dirt... wasn't washing away.  Her skin was
much darker than it should be and there were patches that were darker than the
rest.... a deep ruddy brown.... almost like fading bruises.... or the
beginings of... stripes???

With a string of curses she jerked the water off and all but lept from the
shower. 'SHY!  C'mere!
She stepped, dripping wet, into the the main room of thier small apartment,
just as Shy was raising her sleepy head from the pillow.  Tarla's jaw
dropped... she stared at the face that had always been so much like her own as
to be a mirror image.... at a strangers face.... and her hands raised to her
own face in turn as Shy's eyes opened and then widened.

Her fingers confirmed what her eyes told her.  Eyes that were once round and
bright green were now narrower, slightly pointed at the outer edge, and
upturned.... the iris's staring back at her were no longer as bright as they
had been.... now the green was fighting with a steely grey... and the grey was
winning.  Cheekbones were higher, more pronounced.  The lips had lost some of
thier fullness... And the hair, once bright red, was dimming into a deep
forest green before her eyes.

Tarla reached out and grabbed Shy's hand, dragging her from the bed and
inspecting her skin in close detail, even as her sister echoed out loud the
question running through her own mind.

What the hell is going on?

--------------------------


Message 480 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 15 14:41:21 1998 EST
From:     Shynara (#17718)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Strangers in a quickly becoming strange land

She heard her sister bellow from elsewhere in the apartment. Shynara thought
that one of those damned sprites must have been getting too annoying for Tarla
and she needed some help splattering the little pest.

Only when she raised her head and saw Tarla there in front of her soaking wet
did she relaize that it was much worse.  Or... "No fraggin way," she thought.
Shynara blinked away the sleep from her eyes and took a closer look at Tarla.
She saw her sister's hand reach for her own, only there was not the familiar
look of creamy whiteness to it.  It looked as though she had been beaten with
a strap of leather or some such.
Suddenly she was jerked unceremoniously out from under the warm bed
exclaiming, "What the hell is going on?"

"What the hell happened to you last night?"  Shynara looked at her sister, as
she herself was being scrutinized.  The marks were not limited to her hands,
they were all over her body.  A pair of stripes that curved down from her
collar bones and plunged between her breasts and almost met before ending in
sharp points at her solarplexus.  Everywhere she looked the coloring was the
same, her once beautifully milky skin turned to tan and deep rust color.

Wait a minute," she thought.  Shynara looked closely at one area of her
sister's skin.  "Holy shit..."  It was darkening by the minute.  She looked
into Tarla's eyes, seeing now a mask appearing around her greying orbs.
"Sister? What is going on?

She stared at Tarla's face, a look of near horror replacing the confused
wonder that was there.  Shynara reached out and brushed back a lock of her
sister's hair and saw the strangest aspect of whatever this strange virus or
disease was doing to them.  Underneath Tarla's dark and wet mop of a head of
hair, were her ears.  At least they should have been.  Instead they were
elongating and forming a distinct pointedness.  Before her very eyes, they
stretched up and back to look like something she had seen on an old vid show.
"Just like the damned Vulture," she murmured.  Finally remembering the show's
name... Star Track.

--------------------------


Message 481 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 15 17:12:11 1998 EST
From:     Kzin (#5800)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Balance..

The window was open, just enough to allow a breeze in from the bamboo grove.
Kzin sat staring at the window, then, with a heavy sigh, took out the iron
shavings and sprinkled them across the windowsill, chanting softly below his
breath.   The metal filings glowed, white hot, and melted in a single line
around the window, sealing it against influence of the fae. Leaving the window
half open, he glanced around the room idly, smiling at Darius's sleeping form,
and the slightly restless children beside her.
The Adept double-checked the doorway and the windows, making sure the iron was
indistunguishable from the previous metal-leaf decorations. "Yes, that will
do.....minor protection, but adequate..for now." Pacing about the room and
re-checking the new wards, the robed mage noticed a small four-leafed clover
invading the space between a few of his hemlock plants.
His robes fell back to the elbows as Kzin chanted quietly, runes glowing
across the surface of his skin. Pointing one finger at the clover, Kzin
snapped the last words of the incantation, and waited for results. One
second....two...five...ten...nothing.   With a curse, he grabbed the small
clover plant and ripped it free, tossing it out the window. "Stupid faerie
magic. These weeds growing resistant and more. And those strange beasts on the
wheel.....Rathe even told of a black unicorn...."
With a shrug, the Adept wandered back to bed, midnight paranoia ceasing
finally, and laid beside Darius, kissing the sleeping woman lightly on the
lips. Thinking to himself. She is safe, as are the children, for now. But if
she knew of the planes  overlapping...nay. She is best protected. More than I.
"
Drifting back to sleep, troubling thoughts set aside, Kzin waited for morning,
deep in the seat of his consciousness, wondering what other new changes and
problems were yet to come.
>From far outside,  whistles and chattering noises blew with the winds. Bright
eyes peered curiously through the window, and plotted mischief. In the
morning, a small ring of toadstools had grown just beside the doorstoop."

--------------------------


Message 482 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 15 19:18:48 1998 EST
From:     ShadowHawk (#12411)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  <<..to thine oneself be true..>>

ShadowHawk stood alone on the belltower of an abandoned church deep in the
heart of the wastes, glancing out into the perpetual night. Strange things
were going on about these parts; all of which he dosen't completely understand
why, but knows enough to say that if it continues, it will harm his very
existance.
<<..the only person not effected by this is me.. Even Rathe is getting fucked
up.. why why wh..>> and suddenly; it came to him. Glancing at a broken piece
of glass left on the floor, he gazed into his own eyes, remembering the night
he encountered Darkhawk. It all pieced together. Like Renna's wings are fake -
Like Rathe's cravings to disco are fake - He is fake as well.
And all this time; he has been trying to help what will cause his final stand.
This is a secret he must keep to himself, he confirmed within his mind, and
faded into the shadows from which he was spawned..

--------------------------


Message 483 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 15 21:00:57 1998 EST
From:     Yalindra (#13170)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Changes, big and small...

	It was a quiet night, uneventful, which eventually turned into an
equally uneventful morning. Yalindra woke as light and the noise of
moving dragons penetrated the curtain of her cavern. She yawned, got out
of bed and stretching slowly as she dressed. >> You missed a beautiful
sunrise, Yalindra. <<  Myr's voice drifted over the SoulBond. She smiled,
brushing the tangles out of her hair, her tail absently flicking from
side to side... She blinked. Her TAIL? Using her mirror to get a better
look, she found, to her surprise, that she did indeed have a tail. It
seemed part of her...as if it had always been that way. "Magic, no doubt,
" she thought. She would ask Brinn to take a look at it later...
She finished with her hair, set down the brush and mirror, and was
about to seek out Brinn, when a voice called out: "Good morning, Mother."
Yalindra blinked, then her eyes widened as a figure pushed aside the
curtain and entered the cavern. "Who are you..?" Yalindra asked, but as
her eyes swept over the form of the young girl who stood before her, she
knew her identity. "Sariana!? W..what happened?!" Her daughter, who
now appeared to be some eleven or twelve years of age, regarded her as
if she was mad, "What are you talking about, Mother?" Yalindra sat back
in her chair. "Yes, but how...? When I tucked you in last night, you...
were so small..." Sariana cocked her head to the side, "I remember that,
yes, but...it seems so long ago...I don't really have an answer."
Yalindra looked quite stunned. All she knew was that SOMETHING had happened
overnight...something that hopefully Brinn or Frap could explain...
Until then, she had both a pre-adolescent daughter and a tail to care
for...

--------------------------


Message 484 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 15 21:58:39 1998 EST
From:     Yjimael (#23078)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Vanishing

 Yjimael beat the last cainid to the ground, a pile of their bodies
surrounding him. Crouching down a moment to scan the area and catch his
breath, he noticed in the distance what appeared to be... a black unicorn?
 Curious, he stood back up to his full 5'2", lead pipe held loosely at his
side. Moving slowly in the twilight towards the unicorn, he saw it disappear
into a grove of trees and picked up his pace, running after it. Entering the
grove, looking around frantically for the fantastic creature, he saw nothing,
but rather 'felt' reality begin to blur around him, his senses warping.
 On Mount Morlith, Vynzraelth felt his dragonfriends fear and confusion, and
then felt... nothing. Taking quickly to the air and speeding to the Ghostwheel
plains, he landed in the empty grove. Unleashing a roar of torment and anger,
Vynzraelth looked to see only a few strange flowers growing on the ground, and
a lead pipe lying alone in the center.

--------------------------


Message 485 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Feb 15 22:19:45 1998 EST
From:     Darius_Lee (#10280)
To:       *storylines (#5236)

Echo laid on her back in her crib, her tiny fists waving in the air as she
listened to the comforting sounds of her brother sleeping beside her. Her tiny
blind eyes moved restlessly as if by just moving they could bring sight into
her mind. One tiny fist found its way into her mouth as her sensitive hearing
picked up the sound of soft giggles out in the distance. Echo giggled softly
in response, trying to communicate with the soft sounds. A stray breeze
wandered through the room to gently carress her face, windy fingers gently
brushed over her wide violet eyes before disappearing. The tiny child coughed
then yawned, suddenly exhausted as a strange comforting warmth settled in her
body, easing the pain that had constantly held her captive.

--------------------------


Message 486 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Mon Feb 16 14:55:27 1998 EST
From:     Clayson (#17237)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Incomprehension

Mona stepped slowly from the cool water. Soft growls of cougars filled the air
as she scampered home on tip toes, leaving the soothing caress of the creek
far behind her.  A least Dixie did not seem to be effected to the changing,
the low hanging willows brushed against her, familiar as the moonlight calling
of the mountain wolves.

Hunting was becoming increasingly more difficult, strange beasts showing up on
the wheel, attacking, her arms ached from the constant blocking of their
random strikes. Even the slisssh nest under the R/T building had been touched
by the madness. Large metal eyes roamed through the dark tunnels, watching,
waiting. Small goose bumps covered her body as she rushed home, not from cold,
but a fear of the unknowing.

Reaching home Mona quickly punched in the code, leaning her weight against the
heavy door, pushing it open just enough to slip inside. Instantly she felt
safe, Menroth's shallow breathing filled the cabin as he slept under a tangle
of bedding, bringing a since of normality with in the walls they shared.

--------------------------


Message 487 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Mon Feb 16 16:47:48 1998 EST
From:     Akeashar (#20348)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  ..

It'd been days since Pepper was awake, but that hadn't bothered Dwight. He
focused his mind more and more into the networks, finding anyway he could to
dechiper the strange gibberish found by the pick-up progger.

"Strange indeed." he said aloud, tapping a few alpha-numeric sequences.
Apparently Dak wasn't gonna reveal their location easily.

"Ahh well. Guess I'll just sit back and watch the sun filter through the
blackened ruins of my great city." he smiled, and cracked his knuckles,
slipping on a headset and listening to some old alternative music.

--------------------------


Message 488 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Mon Feb 16 19:43:56 1998 EST
From:     SNET_Corporeal_Agency (#18718)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Posted throughout the R/T building.

>From the SNET Corporeal Services:

We are offering a 5k reward for any evidence leading to the arrest or
endictment of the individual known as "Draven". sources show he has
infiltrated and stolen items, and was last seen getting into a strange
mechanical monstrosity. Rewards may be upped for various other Reasons

SNET Financial Bureau

--------------------------


Message 489 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Tue Feb 17 01:00:13 1998 EST
From:     Yitsune (#19242)
To:       *DragonRiders (#5915) and *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Worthy!!!

Juliet sat on the bed in her cave, looking around her new home.  A slow smile
traveled across her face as she looked around her new home, finally feeling
that she actually belonged somewhere.  She looked over at the dragon cot in
the corner, smiling at A'leyrsath as the pearl slept peacefully.  It had been
a very exciting day for Juliet, and she started reflecting on it.
The day had started much as normal, her waking up in the dormatory, still not
used to her new home, and still sad and lonely, waking up by herself.  She
began wandering the halls of Morilth, looking for somthing or someone to talk
to...or maybe to just find a place to sit and think.  She wandered into the
Hatchery, always finding peace and quiet in there, so was surprised when she
saw Yj talking to Elshydrath.  She talked with Yjezra for a little while
before A'Lerysath wandered into the Hatchery.
After a while of talking with Yj, she started to scritch A'leyrsath somewhat.
The Pearl seemed to get even more playful as time went on, seeming to want
more and more of Juliet's attention.  Juliet had been having fun scritching
and talking with the pearl and Yjezra, when A'leyrsath said the one word that
utterly surprised and made Juliet happy..."WORTHY!"  Ever since she had been
around the riders, she had heard that recombs could not be riders, but
somehow...in someway, this pearl decided to take her...
Juliet's mind came back to her, her smile larger now as she slowly stood up,
and walked over, nuzzling Ley's snout, and kissing her nose gently, softly
saying, "Thank you my friend.  Thank you so much"

--------------------------


Message 490 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Tue Feb 17 18:37:38 1998 EST
From:     Winter (#8571)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  The Frightening Call of Hunger

As Gunnar lay sleeping, Winter slipped from the room and descended into the
heart of the Necropolis. It had been some time since she had payed tribute to
her master, and there was much to tell. Her life seemed as though it had been
turned upside down.
Zarathos greeted her with contempt and ordered her to resume her form as his
hag. The youthful beauty of her real body did not please him at all. Once
wrinkled of skin and bent of posture, Winter finally began her summaries -
each word a gasp and crackle.
The demon lord did not mind that Winter had finally found a playmate to bond
with. He didn't mind at all, because the mage had embraced the dark arts. Not
immune to jealousy, however, he did not like the blade in her hand...Gunnar's
gift of a katana that she so overtly cherished. Zarathos viewed any reliance
upon a material thing as a weakness.
And so, by means of his magick, he buried a seed within her. She was to lust
the taste of human flesh, and to from then on, savour the warm blood of her
victims orally. She would skin with her teeth and her teeth alone.
She would crave.
When Winter finally slipped back into bed, the katana was still gripped in her
right hand but untainted by the warm caress of blood. Instead, her teeth were
faintly yellowed by the stain of her last prey. And she was still thirsty.

--------------------------


Message 492 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Tue Feb 17 21:30:10 1998 EST
From:     Goat (#23882)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Rated X (Kind of)

 There was one night i did get off the truck. When the Old Man was passed out
drunk. Three neighbourhood kids children took me to a rock 'n' roll conert.
The kind of music: old-school funk.
 It was the first time I got off the truck and the music made me loose
control. The lead singer asked if we were having fun, I said "Fucking crank
that rock 'n' roll!" The women at the show were beautiful as the danced sexily
on the soft grass. One of them even petted my fur. Fuck me in the goat-ass!
 Then some long haired guys grabbed me by the horns and threw me in the mosh
pit. They passed me around antreated me nice, Till i nervousy sprayed them
with shit. The then music stopped, and everything was quiet. And all the rock
'n' rollers started a fucking goat riot. KILL THE GOAT, KILL THE GOAT.
 They chased me under the bleachers, they chased me onto the street and said i
was dead fucking goat meat. But the I saw a sight, that I never thought I'd
see. The Old Man was swinging his hickory stick, but it wasn't at my, "Fuck
you pot-smoking turkeys! Don't you press you luck." Then the long hairs ran
away screaming. As I scrambled back onto the truck.
 The Old Man said, "Goat you broke the sacred law, Ill let it go this time,
but if you ever leave again I'll break your fucking jaw!"
 "Thank you Old Man for saving my life, thank you again and again. You could
have let them barbecue me but incstead you acted like a friend."
 "Im not your friend, I don't even like you. I'm just not drunk. To prove his
point he drank a bottle of grain alchol  and beat the fuck out of my head.
That night I suffered a concussion.
 I guess you;d call be a scapegoat. A punching bag for the Old Man to mock.
Just because his wife left him for his brothers abnormally large cock. He
could have been my friend, but instead he's a crazy old fuck.
 "Good night Old Man"
 "Shut up goat!"
 "Go to sleep Old Man, you got a big day ahead of you. Drinking and beating
the fuck out of me."
 "Oh, your right goat. Good Night."

--------------------------


Message 493 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Tue Feb 17 21:35:06 1998 EST
From:     Rathe (#14172)
To:       *storylines (#5236)

I'd just like to say that Goat, whoever he/she is, kicks ass.

--------------------------


Message 494 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Tue Feb 17 21:35:33 1998 EST
From:     ShadowHawk (#12411)
To:       *storylines (#5236)

I second that notion.

--------------------------


Message 495 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Wed Feb 18 17:49:15 1998 EST
From:     April (#20525)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Madame Guillotine - Part I

April sat alone in the command chair of her XT-434 aircraft; course unknown.
Mindless cyborgs paraded about her, fiddling with their guns and things that
were of no interest to her. Suddenly, a thick beep graced the full LCD
indicator attached to her wrist, followed by a series of toned pitches, to
which she gracefully answered.
"Yes?" she said into the communicator, eyes dull from lack of sleep.
"Greetings from the Emperor.." the voice rasped. "We would like to commend you
for capturing all but one of Clan Vengenance. Your future shows great promise
within the heart of the Empire.."
April yawned broadly, "And?"
Interferance crackled between the lines, and shortly afterwards, "..There is
but one that has not been captured. One that has escaped the labratories of
SanTech, with his life and an expirmental serium mixed into his blood. He
would not reveal his call sign to us, nor would the rest of the cought
members, but he was the only one to survive and accept it. From fingerprints
and DNA patterns, we recognize him as Damien Pontransa. Do you know of him?"
Apirl shook her hair slightly, replying. "The name does not strike a familiar
cord."
"..Yes.. Well; We last recieved a signal from the Islands of GhostWheel,
though we know not of the geography of the place, if he's anywhere - he's
there. I suggest you visit there with your troops and attack with full force.
The Emperor wants all rebels totally and untterly destroyed."
April accepted the job, hanging up the communicator. Announcing the course to
the approxmate location of the Ghostwheel island, the blasters reved up in
full furry, coursing through the air. In less then thirty minutes, they hit
what was left of New Orleans, and started to land.
No, no!" April screamed, "Don't land in the water, you idiots!"
But it was too late. Within seconds, water seeped into the cracks of the
warship, mucking with the cyborg controls and life support. Apirl quickly
abandoned the ship, with only her mask, and her extravagant clothes, letting
the ship sink while she swam away - destination unknown..

--------------------------


Message 496 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Thu Feb 19 00:52:30 1998 EST
From:     Anubis (#22578)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Escaped Recomb

After the fight with Julian in the bar, the last thing Anubis remembers is not
being able to moce his mouth, and then suddenly...blacknesss.
He awoke several hours later in a holding cell in one of Dakirion's
reprogramming facilities. The scientists at Dakirion put Anubis through a
serious regiment of electro-shock therapy and chemical reprogramming.
When all the treatments were over they put Anubis through two seperate moreau
tests, and he passed both of them.
Seeing that Anubis could be salvaged, they decided to put him up for sale.
OOC'ly If you would like to buy Anubis page me or mail me and we will work out
the details

--------------------------