Message-Id: <199805281346.IAA16941@zoom.bga.com>
Date: Thu, 28 May 1998 08:46:27 -0400
From: "Quinn@GhostWheel" <someone@ghostwheel.mud.org>
To: quinn@netsville.com
Subject: GhostWheel Message(s) 656 - 676 from *storylines (#5236)

Message 656 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Tue Apr 21 20:17:28 1998 EDT
From:     Rathe (#14172)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Posted to the wall in the lounge:

Alright, lovies. Here's the deal.
I have a few people I want out of the way.
I'd do it myself, but they honestly aren't worth the effort.
I have a few spare toys and crystals lying around....
I'm sure you can all do the math.
Dante,
Toraxyn,
Clayson,
Yalindra,
And any and all dragons.
I will pay a sufficient price for proof of death. Multiple deaths mean
multiple rewards.
Those known to deal with the above four will not be eligable to collect.
Thank you and goodnight.

Emperor Rathe

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


Message 657 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Wed Apr 22 09:05:52 1998 EDT
From:     Clayson (#17237)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Note

Clayson adjusted her tiara, reading the scrawled note in the round room,
"Emperor, hmmm....if that circus clown is the emperor then Im the fucking
Queen of Spain."

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


Message 658 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Wed Apr 22 10:09:55 1998 EDT
From:     Baltisaar (#10734)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Dichordant Note...

Baltisaar chuckles softly as he reads the note left by
'Emperor' Rathe.  "I do not have to plot his downfall...", thinks
the adept, "He does most of my work for me... People will not
stand for being hunted like deer..." He laughs darkly, then begins
encanting slowly, and meticuously... The note glows a soft green for a
moment, then fades.  The Adept leaves shortly thereafter, laughing
heartily...

Baltisaar
P.S.- (OOC) The enchantment has the basic effect of magnifying
what you feel about that note to gigantic proportions.  If
you liked it, you now _LOVE_ it.  If you felt sickened at it, you
are now completely disgusted at it.  This only effects readers from this
day on, and not past readers, unless they read it again.  Effects
are not cumulative.

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


Message 659 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Wed Apr 22 23:14:20 1998 EDT
From:     Anubis (#22578)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Changes.

Anubis walked into the Vodoo Doctor's Hut, "Doc, what iis wrong with me? I
feel like I have been going through some changes lately.""Well," the doctor
said, "I believe there are some side effects to the drugs I have been giving
you."Anubis looked at the doctor strangly, "What kind of side effects?""I
think your mind is splitting into two personalities, One, the ever flower
loving Anubis that believes in peace and harmony, and two, the evil sadistic
side the enjoys killing in cold blood and mass slaughter."
'Which oone will take control?' Anubis asked.
The doctor pondered, 'We will not know until they split, untiil then we will
just have to wait and see.'
Anubis scratched his chin,'I guess we will just have to wait', and with that
he lleft the hut and hoped on a transport to Drach'nal.

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


Message 660 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Thu Apr 23 00:29:32 1998 EDT
From:     Ylaerin (#16541)
To:       *storylines (#5236)

Ylaerin set the broom in its usual corner, and turned to inspect her work. The
floor was very clean indeed, a suitable floor for a woman with two small
children who were apt to get into everything and were rather mobile; of
course, after three sweepings it ought to be. Ylaerin chided herself, and cast
a glance at her harp... she'd been writing tunes again, there was at least
that much... perhaps Rowan was ready for more lessons? Etra made her way
across the spacious cavern toward the thick curtain that sre screened off the
childrens' sleeping and play area.
Sounds of laughter drifted out, mostly smothered by the woven hanging. Etra
drew the curtain back only far enough to allow her to peek in -- Strafe was
seated on the rug, his son and daughter clambering recklessly all over him.
They were all three smiling and laughing, the perfect picture of familial
bliss, and Etra smiled a minute, watching them.  Rowan was growing quickly,
though he was not yet three, and he spoke neatly and could sing several tunes;
his red curls shone in the dim torch-light, and his eyes were his father's.
Rhianna was still small, and had yet to speak a snigle word, but she had a way
of looking at you as if she could speak volumes and simply chose not to.  Both
of the children had a slightly eerie way about them, as if touched with the
Bard' Sight -- but for now, they romped and played like any other children
with a doting father.
And then, in a flash - an instant - bitterness and greid closed tight around
Ylaerin's motherly heart. Did her husband forget that only a few months ago
she had held a third child in her arms? Not a son of his blood, that was true,
but a lovely fae son - a son no less than their two other children. A son who
had died... been killed! Etra put her hands over her face, turning her back on
her smiling family for a moment, overcome with fear and sorrow -- the child
had nearly killed her.. she had been very ill while she carried him and had
nearly died in birthing him, and then it came to be that he pulled the very
life from her. Her hands shook at the memory; her hands always shook, she
thought bitterly.. she was lucky she could harp once more, after all she'd
undergone. And everyone seemed to see straight past her sorrow - except Luthe
and Corwin.
Ylaerin went resolutely to get her harp, willing her hands to be steady (and
bolstered in this by Luthe's soothing touch on her mind). She began to tune
the strings, and when she set her hands to them a song of wild sorrow ran
forth. Luthe raised his head from his nap, fixed his gaze on her, and she
calmed the music driving everything from her mind. Gradually, she began to
sing.. and Yshar came out of the room, Rowan's hand in his and Rhianna in his
arms.  Her family seated themselves around her, Yshar singing with her.. Rowan
humming half in tune.. Rhianna with her quiet calm gaze fixed on her mother's
fingers.
Ylaerin drove everything from her mind. There was time for sorrowing.. and she
knew now that she could never escape it - never. And yet there was a song for
her family, and here they were. The faces of the dead and lost drifted from
her mind...

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


Message 661 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Thu Apr 23 00:33:54 1998 EDT
From:     Ylaerin (#16541)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Bah...

There were a lot fo typos in there.. and I don't think my terminal is working
right (several lines were missing). but I've been spammy enough and I'm
accused of being overly sappy, so I'll stop now. )

-Jess

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


Message 662 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Thu Apr 23 23:25:23 1998 EDT
From:     Tadewi (#16048)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Closer.

Tadewi returned to the Maison, her head hung down, eyes cast towards the
cobblestones at her feet, but yet they did not truly see anything at all.
Rathe's voice carried with her, his tone commanding her to return home.  She
had no strength left to fight him.
The meeting with Ylaerin in the lounge left her feeling the intensity of her
lonliness.  It had been three long years since that fateful day, forced into
marriage with a power hungry tyrant who carried enough power to keep her
dangling from his strings eternally.  Nothing of hers remained sacred.  Her
home, her family, her body, her mind.  Ylaerin's songs were a painful reminder
of her life before, her song crafting and performances.  It was gone now,
outlawed by her husband.
The Maison was empty and the wind howled outside with a rising storm, maybe it
felt her own inner rage and released it for her.  Goddess knew there was
nothing left for her here, but she was as bound here as the bricks that made
up the foundation.
Her only hope remained for her son, still free on Morlith.  It was only a
little, but at least it was something.

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


Message 663 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sat Apr 25 17:24:54 1998 EDT
From:     Rathe (#14172)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Wanted

Professional executioner.
Job pays well. Lots of 'benefits'
--Rathe

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


Message 664 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Apr 26 15:31:42 1998 EDT
From:     Descendant (#24475)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Opertunity uvva lifetime...

Join a band. Join......
`+\\``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````||````````
`||\\`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````||````````
`||`\\``````````````````````````````````````````````()================()
`||``\\```+----+```+----+`/====`+----+``|\`|\``````/\```|\~||`||````````
`||```\\``++---+```\\````//`````++---+``|\\||\````//\\``|\\||`||````````
`||```//``|+-+``````+==\`||`````|+-+````||\\|\\``//``\\`||\\|`||````````
`||``//```|+-+````````//`||`````|+-+````||`||`\\`|====|`||~||`||````````
`||`//````++---+`````//``\\`````++---+``||`||`//`||``||`||~||`||````````
`+///`````+----+``+----+``\====`+----+``||`||//``||``||`||~||`||````````
````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
(C) Hellion Records
Jimmy Manson, AKA Descendant (Vocals, Ryhtym Guitar)
Cuero (Keyboards)
Deiter (Drums)
In need of following positions:
Bass Guitarist
Lead Guitar
Backing Guitar
For information, dial 21042 on your communicator

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


Message 665 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Apr 26 21:45:02 1998 EDT
From:     Mulder (#709)
To:       *storylines (#5236)

What, no roadies?  No openings for mindless teenage groupies?  What kind of
band is this???

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


Message 666 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Apr 26 23:22:49 1998 EDT
From:     Ariadne (#20332)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Rupture of the Earth

The earth groaned and rumbling filled the air. Plates shifted in the night and
woke those who slept too lightly. Some areas of N'Orleans caved in upon
themselves, leaving only rubble behind.
Those who were quick enough, managed to escape before the earthquake could
bury them alive. Those who were slow perished underneath the Coven walls.

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


Message 667 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Apr 26 23:29:57 1998 EDT
From:     Anubis (#22578)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  INSANE.

Anubis snapped and suddenly went on a murderous rampage.

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


Message 668 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Apr 26 23:32:31 1998 EDT
From:     Toraxyn (#19315)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  INSANE part deux

 Toraxyn rubbed his chin gently as he gulped down the last bit of his glass of
whiskey, leaning against the quiet R/T bar. "Hmmm..." He mused to himself. "I
think today I will rid the world of annoying insane people.  Society must be
purged of stupidity." Grinning wickedly, he leapt to his feet and set out to
perform his evil goal.

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


Message 669 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Apr 26 23:49:46 1998 EDT
From:     Skywalker (#6644)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Aftermath

Skywalker lay quietly in his dome, resting on his back as he watched the reef
fish swim by through the transparisteel ceiling.  Turning his head to the
side, he could see his tattered trench coat draped over the chair and his
acid-pitted armour lying in a pile on the floor among his weapons.  Carefully,
he moved his left arm, flexing it slowly as he winced.  The 'Reach surgeons
had done a good job disinfecting the wound and hadn't even questioned him
about the slim metal rods that had been grafted onto his tendons and were the
only things that had saved the use of his hand.  The bubbled skin on his back
had been successfully removed with synthetic flesh patching his back up until
he would have a chance to heal.  Sitting up, he almost screamed out as waves
of pain shot along his spine and branched out, causing his muscles to spasm.
Leaning forward with his forehead resting on his knees, he popped a few
crystals into his mouth and closed his eyes.

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


Message 670 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Sun Apr 26 23:56:26 1998 EDT
From:     Descendant (#24475)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Vengeance...

Descendant chuckled evilly. He grinned as he sat in his trailer, imagining
what he would do to the one called Ghoti. The one with the axe. THe one who
attacked his son. "I will crush his head with my guitar", he tought angrily.
He watched his adopted son sleep in peace and set a pair of metal drumsticks
down. 'For you, Deiter.' he thought, imagining the happiness of the boys face.
He smiled grimly as he imaged the boy's evil smile as he witness Ghoti's head
being crushed in with the guitar.....

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


Message 672 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Mon Apr 27 08:20:51 1998 EDT
From:     Tadewi (#16048)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  Exiled.

She stared intently at the door, wondering if Anubis planned to return.
Hardly aware that she'd fallen asleep, she never heard him return to the
cottage, and now wondered if he, or any of her husband's minions would check
on her.  Morning light streamed through the windows, yet she was sure there
were magical enchantments on each.  Rathe would not be so stupid as to leave
her exiled in an unwarded house.
Sighing, she knew that young mage in the lounge, Sterno she thought someone
had called him, was N'Orleans last hope against tyranny.  Quietly she prayed
to the Quinn he would find Seraph.

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


Message 673 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Mon Apr 27 08:23:59 1998 EDT
From:     Mulder (#709)
To:       *storylines (#5236)

Posted anonymously in the R/T Lounge:

Ev'rybody's building the big ships and the boats,
Some are building monuments,
Others, jotting down notes,
Ev'rybody's in despair,
Ev'ry girl and boy
But when Quinn the Eskimo gets here,
Ev'rybody's gonna jump for joy.
Come all without, come all within,
You'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn.

I like to do just like the rest, I like my sugar sweet,
But guarding fumes and making haste,
It ain't my cup of meat.
Ev'rybody's 'neath the trees,
Feeding pigeons on a limb
But when Quinn the Eskimo gets here,
All the pigeons gonna run to him.
Come all without, come all within,
You'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn.

A cat's meow and a cow's moo, I can recite 'em all,
Just tell me where it hurts yuh, honey,
And I'll tell you who to call.
Nobody can get no sleep,
There's someone on ev'ryone's toes
But when Quinn the Eskimo gets here,
Ev'rybody's gonna wanna doze.
Come all without, come all within,
You'll not see nothing like the mighty Quinn.

-Bob Dylan, 1968

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


Message 674 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Mon Apr 27 20:19:15 1998 EDT
From:     Coreen (#18717)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  A course of action

	Coreen quietly borded the transport for home, taking a seat
as the shuttle jetted out of the bowels of the R/T. Many thoughts
pervaded her mind, running the last few moment's events through her
mind for scrutiny. Little girls mouthing off at her, a mariner which
she had thought previously scared, or at least intimidated, by her
suddenly decided to grow a backbone. Sinner, Dauthi, Devon...the
list of people who did not take her seriously grew and grew. Something
would have to be done, some course of action taken, in order to
restore her lost reputation. Or did she ever have one? Coreen grinned
thinly, her swollen cheek distorted the curve of her lips into a
sneer. Perhaps it was time to get one, she thought, a clump of dark
hair, slightly singed, in her hand, and her body still surrounded
in a tumultuous aura of magical power. She could not kill every idiot who
would challenge her, however. Another way would have to be found. Again Coreen
grinned her bruise-contorted grin as an inkling of a plan hatched in her mind.
She would have her reputation yet.

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


Message 675 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Mon Apr 27 22:28:10 1998 EDT
From:     Abe (#21180)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  a time to plan.... 

Abe woke up in the Morlith dormitories and looked around to greet the boy who
always seemed to bee there...
When he did not see the young Ashe, Abe walked around the cavern grounds.
ooc: or was the name ash?
Abe found himself at the ledge, where other dragons sat, waited and talked
among each other. He cursed, trying to decide whether he should leave the
influence of the mount, and take a look around the land..
He went to find Azzie, the amethyst dragon who took him around on her back
without a complaint (not that he understood anything she said though..)
 . o O ( time to make a few plans..) Abe thought as he mounted the dragon,
already feeling the sensations of hot needles all over as he left the area of
morlith, and took a breath from the inhaler on his belt, the pain dulling
tolerably...

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


Message 676 from *storylines (#5236):
Date:     Mon Apr 27 23:17:38 1998 EDT
From:     Abe (#21180)
To:       *storylines (#5236)
Subject:  ..cont... 

Abe returned to the mount, and felt relief (even though the pain was great,
despite the drugs pumping through him right now)
as he saw the boy in the garden on morlith.
 "still gotta make a few plans, just have one less", he muttered to himself,
feeling slightly better..

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