From quinn@fazigu.org Sat Jan 08 11:12:24 2000 Received: from casper.realtime.com (casper.realtime.net) [205.238.128.161] by requiem.netsville.com with esmtp (Exim 3.11 #1 (Debian)) id 126yTX-0001hT-00; Sat, 08 Jan 2000 11:12:23 -0500 Received: from casper.realtime.com (localhost [127.0.0.1]) by casper.realtime.net (8.7.4/8.7.3) with SMTP id KAA25617 for ; Sat, 8 Jan 2000 10:13:16 -0600 Message-Id: <200001081613.KAA25617@casper.realtime.net> Date: Sat, 8 Jan 2000 10:13:16 -0400 From: "Quinn@GhostWheel" To: quinn@fazigu.org Subject: GhostWheel Message(s) 1344 - 1352 from *storylines (#5236) X-Mail-Agent: GhostWheel (casper.realtime.com 6969) Status: RO Content-Length: 11214 Lines: 246 Message 1344 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Nov 9 22:57:28 1999 EST From: Dante (#10660) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Sisters, body and soul. Dante could not believe his boredom. Since Coreen had been a goody goody no one could amuse him. He tired of the boring prattle that went on day in and out, and decided to fix his problem. Taking Coreen back to the tower's dungeon once more he prepared the spell that would remove her soul. But this was n;t the usual spell that was used, he would need a second victim that would make this all the more interesting. With his return to the R/T building his time did not last long before he had the perfect prey. With the victim in hand after a few failed attempts he successfully switched the bodies of the magistra and the warrior. The end result was perhaps the most amusing thing he had ever done. With a quickly women scrying spell he would only have to sit back and watch as events unfolded. Maybe he would undo the spell if it bored him, until then it was like watching two people that hated each other have to live the others life. The insane laughter filled the swamps as the night fully fell. -. -------------------------- Message 1345 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Nov 10 13:28:02 1999 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *storylines (#5236) Rathe belched, scratched his nuts, and turned on ShadowNetTV. Mmm. Basketball. -------------------------- Message 1346 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Nov 10 13:32:46 1999 EST From: Rathe (#14172) To: *storylines (#5236) Yes, that's basket ball. Where ShadowFax employees throw balls of wadded-up paper into wire trash baskets. -------------------------- Message 1347 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Nov 15 19:20:16 1999 EST From: Akeashar (#20348) To: *storylines (#5236) The adept sat at his desk, staring at the spread of papers laid out before him. Accident report that had claimed Merri's life and that of his unborn child. He had not wanted to look at it -- perhaps letting it sit a day or so would make the pain ease. Now he sat, running his hands along the rough stubble on his face. An older transport using every form of communication available for assistance.. life boats launched. Why wouldn't Merri have been the first to be put in one? Reports indicated all lifeboats retrieved, so obviously there was an error in their ways.. typical. A trip to Erin was in order. The Adept rose from his desk, laid the papers aside. He had to find out the final fate of his wife and child. Something inside wouldn't let go. The main doors closed behind him as he left the hall. -------------------------- Message 1348 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Tue Nov 16 03:13:38 1999 EST From: Merri (#24667) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: Phoenix Rising It had all come back slowly. For three weeks she had lain in hospital, unconcious. They told her later they didn't know if she would ever awake from her coma. But they cared for her, as much then for the growing baby in her body as for her. Then she awoke, not knowing where she was, who she was; a blank slate. They told her how she had come there. And slowly that part of her memory returned. She remembered the black smoke, the screams, looking up to see the steel support that came down on her and sent her into blackness. She knew she was married. Not just from the child growing in her but the ring on her finger as well. She wondered why the shadowy, amorphous figure she had labeled "husband" hadn't come for her. Perhaps they had split up, victims of a bad marriage. Perhaps he was glad that she was gone from his life. When she became well enough they released her to a convalescent home in the country and there she spent her days walking across the fields and waiting for the birth of her child. The baby was born uneventfully. Holding her child in her arms she looked down and a memory dredged to the surface. "Celesta" she said. "Her name is Celesta." **************************************************************************** The warm summer breeze drifted through the open window billowing the curtains as she sat in the rocker nursing the wee babe. She rocked in a slow rhythm, patting the baby's back, her eyes closed, humming a nameless song to the baby in her arms. The baby fell asleep, it's weight warm and comforting against her, and she dozed off as well, lulled by the soft warmth and bird song. A voice drifted into her dream....a child's voice, calling "Mommy" and the soft deep rumble of an answering reply. Something twitched in her mind, almost like a bothersome fly. She knew that voice. Was she dreaming? Her eyes opened as she felt the weight of the baby taken from her arms. Blue eyes stared into tearfilled blue eyes as a hand softly brushed her cheek....and she knew. -------------------------- Message 1349 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Mon Nov 22 22:59:56 1999 EST From: Elendil (#2237) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: The Hunt The chase was long, but the end little in doubt. Up from the plains and through the primevil forests he ran, feet bloodied in his torn boots, and yet the howls never seemed to abate, never seemed to recede. At last he broke out of the tree line, following the ancient dusty creekbed up into the mountain's foothills. The dry clouds of disturbed sand and dust caked his face and lungs, set him to gasping as he struggled up around the great tan boulders and over the roots of long-dead trees. Finally, he'd run enough. He leaned back against one of the huge sun-warmed boulders, and drew his longsword. The view was spectacular, the shoulders of the mountain range slipping back down into the green sea of trees, and far, far to the west, so far he half-fancied he was dreaming, glittered the undying face of the ocean. It was not such a bad place to die; he'd been higher only on dragonback, and long ago. A breeze caught him, whispering gently across his chest and face, and although his end would not even make a song, he was content. The faint hiss of sand sloughing across the boulder behind him saved him. In an instant he was moving, longsword a liquid gleam as it spun in the gritty air. The leaping wolf recomb shrieked as the razored edge dug into and through its ribs, scything blood bright and brilliant across the dusty riverbed. It landed hunched on rear legs, one clawed arm curled defensively over the ragged gash. The horrid maw snarled, eyes red-gold with killing rage, and the beast charged with a jagged machete held on high. He slipped forward to meet it, sparks flying as he caught the blow and turned it, levering the machete away from his torso with his superior weight. Claws flashed inches from his eyes and then he had the recomb's guard open for a backstroke. It cut cleanly and the headless body stumbled past him under its own momentum. His heart leapt, blade coming up before him in the age-old victory salute, and then the hunting party broke free of the tree-line. Three wolf recombs, swift and well-armed, and a young human in a robe with empty hands. And that was the greatest danger of all. His father's war song hummed in his breast and he raised his sword towards the star one last time, hoping as always that She would see, halt in her dance for a moment, consider him, a lone warrior among thousands, and not find him wanting. He charged down the ravine, a funnel of dust spilling out behind him as the gravity took him, half-running, half-falling, burning with speed right into the mix of them. The first recomb uncoiled smoothly towards him, propelling a spear at his chest. He sidestepped and shattered the collarbone in her right shoulder for her trouble, but his momentum was already blunted. The second, a massive wendigo hybrid, roared and spun his morningstar up to killing speed, huge clawed feet thundering on the ground as it began to charge, but the third paused and simply drew a steely pistol. He lunged towards the wendigo in a feint, and then kicked into a roll towards the pistol-holder, blade arcing up and out in a slice intended to take off a leg. The recomb snarled and back-pedalled, unharmed. He came back to his feet, sword at guard, and caught a whisper of descending syllables carried on the rising winds. He lunged at the human, too slowly. The mage raised a clenched fist and a blue-white arc of energy reached out languidly and caught his chest, blooming into a roaring charge that crawled across his body like a grotesque electrical spider. He saw the sky once as his sword dropped from his nerveless hand and then his world darkened away. His world shifted, spun wildly on its axis, moved in some dimension he lacked a frame of reference for, and something cool pressed up beneath him, supporting him. Crypt, prison, damned after-life? It hurt too much to think and the darkness welcomed him back. Continued. -------------------------- Message 1350 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Dec 5 05:12:52 1999 EST From: Red_Fang (#5907) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: retirement of sorts.... Red sat pondering the last couple of years.. Things had been pretty slow with the exception of the defeat of the Rangers and feeling like a idiot at letting Dante get the best of him over and over.. Things where a lot easier when the enemy wasn't so crazy.. It all figured.. Red was just getting old.. Everyone was saying it and it was starting to sink in.. He wasn't balding as some teased but he knew a few more gray hairs where creeping in that hadn't been there before.. And excersise was just plain getting too much.. He was feeling exausted at the end of a hunt or spar session with someone.. So he figured it was as good time as any to retire.. Oh he would find some way to stay busy.. Would have to still make a living for the wife and the kids.. But it was time to stop trying to rule everything and getting his fool head blown off for no good reason.. So from now on he would just kick back, hunt for what was needed about the house and visit friends as he wanted.. OOC: Don't wanna take Red completely out of things.. But he's getting old and harder to play.. So what he's gonna do is just be hanging out and flirting with the ladies and hunting here and there.. With his holdings you are welcome to as for anything you need.. I don't got much but I'm willing to share what I got.. Least I can do is offer you a home.. Look for a new character played by myself coming soon.. He should be twice the fun of Red and a bit younger and smarter.. Maybe even a bit better looking.. *winks* Love ya all (end of ooc) Rob -------------------------- Message 1351 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Sun Dec 5 13:49:58 1999 EST From: Verty_the_Snowman (#23360) To: *storylines (#5236) Subject: $ Better looking!?!? I don't think that's even possible. -------------------------- Message 1352 from *storylines (#5236): Date: Wed Dec 8 22:39:45 1999 EST From: Anubis (#22578) To: *storylines (#5236) Anubis searched around his cave. "Where the hell did I put those super acid pellets!" --------------------------