The NannyMUD Times issue 1998 December.

[Polar]

---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 1    ---
 
 Given:                      2 m r [i cos r^2 - sin r^2] = dx/dr
 Separate Variables:         2 m r dr [i cos r^2 - sin r^2] = dx
 Divide both by m:           2 r dr [i cos r^2 - sin r^2] = dx/m
 Express as integral:        S 2 r dr [i cos r^2 - sin r^2] = S dx/m
 Integrate:                  cos r^2 + i sin r^2 + c1 = x/m + c2
 Subtract C2:                cos r^2 + i sin r^2 + c1 - c2 = x/m
 c1-c2=c^2 for some c:       cos r^2 + i sin r^2 + c^2 = x/m
 Multiply by m:              m [cos r^2 + i sin r^2] + mc^2 = x
 E=mc^2:                     m [cos r^2 + i sin r^2] + E = x
 Subtract E:                 m [cos r^2 + i sin r^2] = x - E
 De Moivre's rule:           m exp (r^2 i) = x - E
 E(work)=force*distance:     m exp (r^2 i) = x - F.s
 F(force)=mass*acceleration: m exp (r^2 i) = x - mas
 r^2 = rr:                   m exp (rri) = x - mas
 exp (a) = e^a:              m e^rri = x - mas
 
 
 Yeah, some people told me that mudders aren't smart enough to follow that,
 but I'm gonna prove them wrong!
 
 Welcome to the Christmas 1998 issue of the NannyMUD Times.
 
  (1) Index
  (2) Announcements
  ------ News ------
  (3) President Kabila's actions in the Congo
  (4) New Developments in Bosnia
  (5) Stone Cold Steve Austin's Diplomacy
  (6) Tea Sales on Nanny increase!
  ------ Society ------
  (7) Self-interview from Drechbrel
  ( Pklog from Beldros
  (9) Players married since May
 (10) Personal ads
 (11) Horoscopes
 (12) Review of the Hunters guild
  ------ Christmas ------
 (13) A Knight Christmas Carol, part 1
 (14) A Knight Christmas Carol, part 2
 (15) The Supreme Oracle who Cthole Christmas
 (16) Nanny Christmas Carols
 (17) The White Stallion: A Christmas Knight's Story
 (18) Christmas recipes
 (19) What do you want from the admin for Christmas?
  ------ Miscellaneous ------
 (20) 20-question quiz
 (21) Bughunting
 (22) Puzzles & Roomhunt
 (23) Guild poetry
 (24) Rowen's poll of Nanny
 (25) The Straight Dope
 (26) Editorial
 
 

---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 2    ---
 
 Over the past six months, a good deal of information was delivered to us
 by the admin via the announce board.  For those of you who failed to read
 it, here's a quick rehash.
 
 
 Pictures from Nanny's eighth birthday party were available at
 http://www.lysator.liu.se/nanny/misc/party/party_980417.html
 
 The new command 'location' was added, allowing players to set their RL
 location.  While a few used this properly, the rest of us tried to
 demonstrate our creativity and failed miserably.
 
 On May 15th, Banshee explained the difficult concept behind 'multiplaying':
 "This might come as a surprise: MULTIPLAYING (i.e. having more than one
  char logged on or linkdead at the same time) IS NOT ALLOWED!"
 Sakura and Unghie were banished, along with Aka and Skull, Takhar and
 Zenith, Mir and Dahak, Choki and Kanga, Gaby and Zeratul, Virusman and
 Khourbash and Shandra, and Blackone.  A fine selection.
                                                       
 Darin opened a new shop on Malkuth street, selling a shell and maybe
 other useful things.  Rumor has it he is a very crafty worker.
 
 Areas were opened by Amaryllis, Charisma, Arbre, Dunstan, Whizz, Ahndregg,
 and Aleea.
 
 The score command was changed to give us a general idea of how much you
 carry relative to your max capacity.  Now all we need is an explanation
 of why a six tickets to Padrone's castle weigh more than a metal sword.
 
 Zmirc found a big bug that makes our lives a lot safer.  Coincidentally,
 he became level 19, maxed his skills, and got 10M xp the same week.
 
 The Hunters guild opened in Vincent's valley, and quickly attracted a core
 group of players. 
 
 The intuitive ihelp system was made easier. Now, rather than just
 typing 'help khorne', you can type 'alias khelp help -i khorne' and then
 'khelp' to enter the ihelp system, at which point you can begin to
 intuitively navigate through the easy menus.
 
 Moonchild added a rubber duckie, love potion, and game of Othello to
 Catwoman's shop of junk.
 
 The island of Casada closed due to banditry, and Andromeda's area was
 submerged and destroyed by a tidal wave.  The same thing happened to
 Reece's area.  However, the bandits were defeated whereas the tidal wave
 was not, and Casada was reopened to the public.
 
 The yearly QP tax was exacted.  The qp value of popular quests was lowered,
 whereas some of the poorly-coded quests received a substantial boost.
 
 The Kitten unveiled a new line of fall fashions, and the mud was wowed by
 Assistant Shareroom Monitors and Lieutenant Mathematicians.  The
 adventurer's guild vowed to retain its traditional titles, saying "Why
 mess with a good thing?"
 
 Dwinbar retired from the position of highwiz and left a flowerpot in the
 shape of an armadillo behind.  After the confusion subsided, the admin
 moved on.
 
 Nanny's computer aged and died, and was replaced with a PII 350 Mhz with
 some bells and whistles.  In theory, this should lessen the numbers of
 pkers who blame their deaths on lag rather than lack of skill.
 
 Aphextwin was promoted to level 28, and shortly thereafter, became the
 newest highwizard on Nanny.  He quickly exercised his newfound power by
 demoting Norton and Noctael for multiplaying.
 
 100 players can now be online at the same time.  Now those Tradeline
 debates on Hitler's invasion of Poland can have a wider audience.  I bet
 all of you academics are proud.

 
 We look forward to another year of fun and enlightening notices.
 
 

[Polar]

---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 3    ---


   CONGO- Last week, Congo President Laurent Kabila further angered Tutsi
 rebels by changing the country's national anthem from the traditional
 "Cimbulia san twa" ("The ancient cradle of our mother earth") to Warrant's
 "Cherry Pie."  The new anthem was played for the first time at a government
 troop inspection led by a visibly rockin' President Kabila.
   "President Kabila feels 'Cherry Pie' much better captures the spirit of
 all peoples in our ancestral homeland," said a government spokesperson at
 a brief press conference attended solely by detained journalists and
 chickens.  "Besides, as you all know from his presidential decree,
 President Kabila thinks Warrant rocks!"
   Rebel forces retaliated with an immediate mass cancellation of their
 Columbia House Record Club memberships.  At a checkpoint and photomat on
 the outskirts of Kindu, a masked rebel soldier delivered strong words
 about Kabila's actions.
   "This is outrage!" said the soldier.  "Outrage!  The devil Kabila takes
 a sacred song of our people and replaces it with a Warrant song?  He does
 this knowing full well that the Congo has a long, proud tradition of being
 huge Faster Pussycat fans!" (A call to Faster Pussycat's label WEA/Elektra
 Entertainment confirmed that 100 percent of Faster Pussycat's record sales
 for the last five years have been in the Congo.)
   To further back the rebel's claim, November issue of Tiger Beat magazine
 published the results from a poll of Tutsi-led rebels ages 18-25 whose
 annual income is between three chickens and four emaciated cows (margin of
 error 2.5 goats).  Those polled overwhelmingly selected Faster Pussycat's
 "Arizona Indian Doll" as the only acceptable anthem for the great and
 ancient nation of Congo.
   In an eleventh-hour bid to prevent further bloodshed in the region, world
 leaders have asked neighboring countries to immediately half the export of
 deadly sticks, rocks, and dirt clods into Congo while the United Nations
 Security Council frantically tries to arrange a Warrant/Faster Pussycat
 brokered peace agreement.
   "Usually, we can quickly scare two warring sides into agreement with the
 threat of Clockwork Orange-like exposure to Madeline Albright boudoir
 photos, but in this case, we may need to arrange a Warrant/Faster Pussycat
 reunion tour," said U.S. special envoy to Congo, Aldo Nova.
   The Tutsi rebels are likely to quickly dismiss any plan that falls short
 of their stated goals of deposing President Kabila, setting up their own
 brutal puppet regime, opening a "totally bitchin'" all-ages dance club and
 finding a really good domestic Chardonnay for under $10.



---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 4    ---


   BOSNIA- After 20 days of intense fighting, the Serbian village of
 Backslavakia has fallen to a 16-year-old boy named Dawnish Klandish.
 Klandish, a dark-haired Bosnian high school junior with an engaging smile
 and a love for rock `n' roll music, burst onto the military scene just
 last month.  He now holds the entire town in a military grip of his own
 design.  It is rumored that he takes photos of the town's center to school
 with him to show his friends.
   "I just want to fit in," said the sheepish yet proud Klandish.  The
 military operation was conducted in traditional Bosnian fashion, with
 Klandish overseeing all maneuvers from the tree fort he built as a child.
 Klandish feels that taking the town shows that he's "cool" and his friends
 say that he's right.
   No formal political structure for Backslavakia has been introduced as of
 yet.  Klandish is of the mind that all acne cream should be free and girls
 be forced to flirt with him, but local authorities are resisting this
 proposal.  Klandish is said to be struggling with his own feelings of
 identity anyway, so it may be a while until the town sees any firm action
 from its leader other than sulking and selfishness.


---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 5    ---


   WASHINGTON, D.C.- In a ceremony at the Rose Garden today, President
 Clinton oversaw the signing of an historic peace treaty between Canada and
 Ghana.  "It's always a good thing when two nations decide not to fight each
 other," Clinton said, "Good not only for those nations, which is nice, but
 also good for the economy, good for the United States' position in the
 world stage, and good for Must See TV.  So please join me in congratulating
 the successful efforts of Prime Minister Chretien and President . . .
 President . . . the President of Ghana!"
   Clinton paused for applause; however, no one applauded.  Even Vice
 President Gore's appeal for the audience to "give it up" had no effect.
 This was a coldhearted audience, full of bastard reporters and dignitaries
 who just would not clap.
   I should know; I was one of them.
   Clinton and Gore huddled to plan their strategy.  They had the Marine
 band play a rim shot, they pantsed Trent Lott, they sang a chorus of "You
 Light Up My Life" - all to no avail.  We would have none of it.  We were a
 cold audience - a stone-cold audience.  And Clinton knew it.
   "Look," Clinton asked, "what do you people want from me?"
   "Free Stone Cold!" one of the other bastard reporters yelled out.
   "I can't," said Clinton.  "I don't control who is and is not Heavyweight
 Champion.  That decision is Vince McMahon's alone to make.  And he made it."
   "Free Stone Cold!" we began to chant.
   "I'm sorry, there is nothing I can do," Clinton pleaded.  At this point,
 he was looking really scared.  Scared like a man about to be hit with the
 trademark Stone Cold Stunner.  "Look, this is a matter for the World
 Wrestling Federation, don't you understand?  All I am is President of the
 United States, my influence only goes so far."
   "Maybe if we were talking about the Hardcore Championship Belt, we could
 do something," added Gore.
   Just then, a helicopter rose above the White House and a man jumped out.
 No - he was more than a man.  He looked like a giant; like a god.  It was
 Stone Cold!  Clinton stepped aside as the true champion took his place at
 the mike.  "I hear some of my fans have been sticking up for me," the
 Rattlesnake said, and the crowd erupted.  It was a magic moment.
   "I wanna thank you all for the support, but I think we're forgetting
 something important here.  Two countries, two men, have taken the step
 towards peace.  Sure, they never fought a war, but now we'll never have to
 worry.  I may deserve the belt, but I think Ministers Chretien and Gbeho
 are the true champions of today."
   Stone Cold turned to Clinton and said, "You see, Mr. President, Ghana
 doesn't have a President like yourself.  Instead, they have a multi-party
 parliamentary system; the Honorable John Victor Gbeho is here as the
 Minister of Foreign Affairs to represent his country."  Austin maneuvered
 foreign affairs as deftly as he executed a pile driver; it brought a tear
 to my eye.  He then introduced Minister Gbeho to Clinton as the crowd
 chanted "3:16! 3:16!"
   With the speed of a cheetah, Stone Cold leapt back onto his rope ladder
 and within seconds he disappeared over the horizon.  It was the greatest
 moment of my life.



---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 6    ---


   LARSTOWN- Already buoyed by strong sales mudwide, Alexii's Tea Shop is
 preparing to unveil its most striking line of herbal teas yet.  The new
 teas, each with a distinctly derogatory theme, are set to hit shelves
 mudwide by the Month of Spirit.
   "We believe in marketing and selling healthful products that both nurture
 people's bodies and uplift their souls," said a Tea Shop spokesman.  "With
 our new jingoist teas - the most classist herbal teas ever brewed, I might
 add - we're hoping that we can warm consumers' hearts even as we stoke the
 fire of hate in their bellies."
   Among the new flavors are Druid Time, Cthulhumile, Can't Trust A Kitten
 Orange Spice, and Shiftless Knight Zinger.  Shiftless Knight Zinger is
 already being sold in a trial release in two test pubs, the Druid Pub and
 Aphextwin's tea house.  Alexii's company has been heavily promoting the tea
 in those markets, running Tradeline and shout advertisements that industry
 observers have termed "aggressive".
   For example, the Tradeline spot, which features the thoughts of an
 overworked mom as she brews her morning cup of tea, runs as follows:

   Mom: [Yawn] It's morning already . . . and stress has already set in!
 Johnny's soccer practice, Sally's piano lesson . . . the big presentation
 to the guildmaster . . . too much to do! [sound of steaming hot water,
 pouring into cup] And too many Knights in our mud, causing trouble . . .
 sponging off our social services . . . what do they think this is, Camelot?
 [sound of sipping] Mmm . . . zesty, soothing, Shiftless Knight Zinger.
 Today won't be so bad after all.
   Boy: Mom, can I go to my friend Sir Galahad's house tonight?
   Mom: Not if you still want to be my son!
   [Mom, boy laugh]
   Narrator: Alexii's Tea Shop herbal tea.  Solve your Knight problems . . .
 one sip at a time.

   Response to the advertising has been mixed.  While sales of the tea in
 the druid guild has jumped 45% after the ad blitz, hate crimes in that area
 has shot up by a staggering 1,070%.  Given that the Knight community
 inside the druids guild is basically non-existent, it appears that the ads
 have inspired tea drinkers to commit unconscionable and discriminatory acts
 against just about anyone they can think of.
   For example, the Bear Flag restaurant, an earthy pub in Czygorwan's area
 that serves the new tea, now forces Monks to use a separate drinking
 fountain.  The Kentish pub, which also offers the tea, has begun
 automatically adding a 18% gratuity to parties of "lying Hunter curs."  And
 in the northern reaches of Nanny, the local Parents-Teacher Association
 passed a resolution forbidding the district to hire any teachers suspected
 to be of Simyarin extraction.
   "Early projections don't look good," said one Alexii's Tea Shop official,
 speaking on condition of anonyminity.  "We've seen gains in sales, but
 they've been all but wiped out by losses from the looting of our
 distributors by herbal-tea-swilling skinhead thugs.  In some instances the
 thugs have attacked our delivery cart driver, simply because he's an
 adventurer.  It's our fault, really - our ads haven't stated clearly enough
 that the Adventurer's Guild isn't really a separate guild."
   Despite the products' poor outlook, Alexii's Tea Shop's potentially
 biggest competitor is preparing an offering of its own.  The Pern Weyr Tea
 House just announced its new multi-pack, which will include the cinnamon-
 tinged Sinfully Supremacist and the lemon-flavored I Loathe Lazy Vampires.

[Polar]

---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 7    ---


*****************************************************************
This interview, by my undead attendant, was made before I wizzed.
*****************************************************************


Attendant: I’m sure most of the players in Nanny have no idea who
you are. Why don’t you start with telling us a little about yourself?

Drechbrel: Well, shall we start with my name? It’s an original name
that originally belonged to a male half-orc cleric I had when I
role-played a few years ago. I played with a mixed party of people,
the only ones I knew before were Drelb (who’s a very unknown wiz here)
and his girlfriend. Drelb almost started to cry when he heard that
Drechbrel was female here, since he associated the name so strongly

to my old char. He borrowed the name for a MUME orc later, to restore
order. The pronunciation of the name might be difficult for people.
I myself want it to be pronounced with tongue-tip ‘r’s and the German
ach-laut. On the other hand I have heard it with English ‘r’s and
‘ech’ pronounced as in "stretch", and it sounded good too.

A: Enough of your name, can we come to the important parts please?

D: Well, I started playing late 94, just a little after the (in)famous
pk week. My first char was (and is) a knightess, but I soon figured
that playerkilling might be a fun thing, and the guild of the Damned
seemed to be a suitable guild. That’s where I came in. I started out
as guildless, but that were in the days when fireball and black
draining were still around, so it didn’t matter much. I became level
19, but then I was lost completely in a big natural disaster.

A: Even a zombie brain can remember that crash. So what happened?

D: I had to play myself up again, which fortunately took very short
time. I collected a few million xp, and then joined the Damned. That
guild was the guild where the best players of the time, at least in
my eyes, played, and it had by far the best powers of any guild in
the mud. It also suited me well to play in an evil guild.

A: Yeah, I can remember you being quite mean, using poor innocent
zombies as cannon fodder...

D: Not to mention skeletal warriors. They were quite good, especially
in combination with a few select tome spells. Anyway, I managed to
advance in the guild, and became a High Priestess.

A: You are married too?

D: That’s right. It’s a convenience marriage, my husband and I found
out we had the same preferences when it came to mudsex.

A: And that is?

D: It shall be in public, and involve undead attendants, fingers of
death, wielded swords and no wimpy.

A: Don’t tell us more please. Tell us more about your guild instead,
or just anything...

D: Well, the guild sadly closed, and I have stayed out of other guilds
since then. I plan to stay guildless as a wizard too. My personal
belief is that a wizard should only be a member of the guild you were
in as mortal.

A: That was a bad closing, a lot of zombies became unemployed then.

D: Yes, and all the playerkillers who had relied on their power
advantage suddenly became easy kills for the non-damned playerkillers
that hunted them.

A: Speaking of playerkilling, how did that go? That’s why you started,
right?

D: Well, since by then the Damned were pretty dominant when it came to
pk, and a lot less people played Nanny then, and even fewer pked, I
didn’t get to kill so many. My count stopped at 13 players as Damned,
and I’ve killed another two as guildless, one being a brave and mighty
defender.

A:  Did you die at any time?

D: I have died twice in my career, once when I joined the Damned (that
was a guild drawback), and then I decided to take a tour down Meep’s
tower.

A: And now you decided to leave the sweet mortal life and join the
wizards?


D: Yes. You might consider it my third death.

A: How come you want to wiz after so long time?

D: Technically I could wiz two months after I started playing, but I
never felt the desire. The reason I chose to wiz now is that I want to
create an area. I have it in my head already, all I’ll have to do now
is pester some wizards to help me with the coding.

A: Aren’t you supposed to learn coding as a wizard? Even a zombie can
learn LPC I’ve been told.

D: I’m far too lazy. I would just like to concentrate on the things I
do best, which is to come up with creative ideas and write. I realise
I will have to learn the basics, but I hope I will get away with using
standard things where I can fill in the things I want, and for the rest
I will make other wizards do my work. It’s like creating a web site,
most of the time it’s not the same people who come up with the concept
and create the layout that do the actual coding.
That’s my dream, in reality I will probably be forced to learn to code
since no one will help me do my dirty work.

A: So what will your area be like? An orc camp with lots of bs kills
for your seconds?

D: Ummm, not exactly. It will not contain multiple identical monsters.
I want to see the inhabitants of my realm as individuals. Also, I doubt
any alignment-based guilds will have much to long for, since I believe
that, as in real life, most beings are neutral, or close to it.

A: So why would any player ever visit your area then?

D: To enjoy the scenery. Or perhaps only to solve the quest I am
planning.

A: A quest you say?

D: Well, it’s supposed to become a fairly low-qp quest, very basic
concept. All I can say is that I’ve had trouble keeping small yellow
birds out of it.

A: What are your aims with the area then?

D: I promised myself a long long time ago if I ever wizzed I would
create two things: a waterfall that you can’t enter, and an altar that
you can’t move to reveal a secret exit or sacrifice things at to get
something. You can also count on finding mirrors and paintings that
you can’t enter or move.

A: Hah, now you have already been tricked into giving the secrets of
your area away. More?

D: I’d like to create a realistic environment, realistic from a
mud-point-of-view of course. This means the area will be
geographically correct, i.e. a swamp will not be two rooms away from
the plains that are two rooms away from the sea, with a forest in
between and a mountain range near. Neither will a monastery be next
to a haunted crypt ruled by demons. And no orcs or ogres or whatever
will stand three and three in empty rooms under a castle either.


A: Wonder what areas you are talking about...

D: I don’t mean to be rude to any particular wizard, I just took those
as examples. An area might be enjoyable even if it’s not logical.

A: But suppose you get an urge to make a swamp after you have opened
your area?

D: Then I will create it, and place it somewhere else in the mud. I
think it’s sad that so few wizards have taken the opportunity to split
up their areas. I can only think of Azatoth and Mortis, correct me if
I’m wrong.

A: I’m just a simple zombie, how would I know?

D: Speaking further of realism, as I said before I want individual
characters, not masses of monsters. I also want them to have a reason
for being there, preferably a whole life story. I mean, can you tell
me what the hulk in Ingis’ area is doing there except stopping players
from getting his treasure? Why has he collected that treasure? And what
is his relation to the pixie? What are his hopes and dreams? People
might think I’m crazy to even ask these questions, but I’m like that.

A: Perhaps people start to get an idea of what is was like to be your
attendant now... I really would have liked tending to Ysidro better.

D: I’ll just ignore you and continue rambling about realism. Another
thing I hate is anachronistic things in areas. Padrone’s area being a
very good example, the wargames in Andromeda’s another. The only area
I have seen it work in is Chino’s, and that’s probably because the area
has wonderful descriptions and an incredible atmosphere. If I may
paraphrase a certain TV show: "A mud is one of the few places where we
can believe in things that we know actually don’t exist." I hate when
a wizard breaks the feeling of "being there".

A: Are there any areas in the mud you like, apart from Chino’s?

D: Hmmm, Vincent’s area is a very good one. It has a lot of depth to
it, the only bad thing is that it can be a little (very much, actually)
frustrating at times. If I can talk about parts of areas, Barbarella’s
garden has by far the best feel to it of the areas here, and I like
Titleist’s village. It has the kind of logic and structure that I like.
Oh, and Veronica’s newbie area. I wish it had been around when I was a
newbie.

A: Will there be any special theme to your area? Lots of zombies I hope?

D: Not a single zombie, I’m afraid.

A: What then?

D: I like to be abstract, so I’ll say it’s about dreams, and in
particular broken dreams. Since a dream ceases to be a dream when it is
fulfilled, that means the end (Illustrated beautifully in "Como agua
para chocolate". More people should watch non-Hollywood movies.). The
dreams that interest me are the unfulfilled, impossible ones.

A: Anything else that will be different in your area?

D: I’d like to get a post-modernistic feel to it. I’m a fan of
appropriation (in the post-modern sense), and I hope that people who
share some of the same experiences of culture with me will find the
area somewhat more enjoyable than those who don’t. Of course it won’t
be crucial to solving the quest or anything else, but there might be
small things that 99% of the players might miss the complete context
of. All strictly within the mud environment though...

A: What are the main inspirations for your area?

D: Oh, it will owe so much to so many. If I’ll only mention three
people from different cultural spheres it would be Joshua Kadison,

Claude de Ribeaupiere, and David Lynch.

A: I’m not sure I know exactly who those are...

D: No, but you are just a zombie. We can safely assume we have readers
more educated than you.

A: Well, I’m sure people will not want to see your area. Let’s hope you
get demoted before it opens, so we can stick to mass-slaughtering.
Go clone a quest object or two and give to your seconds.

D: It will probably take a long time before I open anything of my own
coding, so the chance might be big.

[Polar]

---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 8    ---
 
Elaida replies to you: he is CtL
Shaay arrives in a puff of smoke.
** HP: 139/202   SP: 192/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Shaay tore your throat into shreds.
fa
0% 0% 0%|6604
> Shaay suddenly lunges for your throat!
** HP: 125/202   SP: 192/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Shaay gutted you with a lightning-fast rake.
You missed Shaay.
** HP: 125/202   SP: 167/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Your falcon flies toward Shaay, but misses him totally!
fa
0% 0% 0%|6604
> fa
0% 0% 0%|6604
> fa
fa

Shaay cut your right shoulder with his claws.
You missed Shaay.
** HP: 125/202   SP: 142/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Your falcon flies toward Shaay, but misses him totally!
0% 0% 0%|6604
> 0% 0% 0%|6604
> fa
Shaay suddenly lunges for your throat!
0% 0% 0%|6604
> fa
0% 0% 0%|6604
> ** HP: 116/202   SP: 142/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Shaay thrust his claws through your throat.
fa
You missed Shaay.
** HP: 116/202   SP: 117/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Your falcon flies from your arm and starts pecking and clawingat Shaay's eyes!
0% 0% 0%|6604
> fa

0% 0% 0%|6604
> fa
0% 0% 0%|6604
> fa
Shaay clawed a bleeding wound in your left shoulder.
You miss Shaay completely with a misdirected blow.
You missed Shaay.
** HP: 116/202   SP: 92/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Your falcon flies toward Shaay, but misses him totally!
0% 0% 0%|6604
> fa
Shaay suddenly lunges for your throat!
0% 0% 0%|6604
> fa
0% 0% 0%|6604
> ** HP: 107/202   SP: 92/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Shaay's claws sunk into your throat, piercing deeply.
fa
You missed Shaay.
** HP: 107/202   SP: 67/202
.
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Your falcon flies toward Shaay, but misses him totally!
0% 0% 0%|6604
> fa
0% 0% 0%|6604
> fa
0% 0% 0%|6604
> fa
Shaay clawed a bleeding wound in your left side.
You missed Shaay.
** HP: 107/202   SP: 42/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Your falcon flies toward Shaay, but misses him totally!
0% 0% 0%|6604
> fa
Shaay suddenly lunges for your throat!
0% 0% 0%|6604
> fa
** HP: 98/202   SP: 42/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Shaay tore your throat into shreds.
You missed Shaay.
** HP: 98/202   SP: 17/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Your falcon scratches Shaay in the face.
0% 0% 0%|6604
> fa
0% 0% 0%|6604
> fa
0% 0% 0%|6604
> fa
Shaay clawed a bleeding wound in your throat.
You missed Shaay.
You don't feel mentally strong enough to command your falcon.
0% 0% 0%|6604
> sh
Shaay suddenly lunges for your throat!
Shaay is in undamaged shape.
0% 0% 0%|6604
> ** HP: 86/202   SP: 17/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Shaay thrust his claws through your throat.
You slashed Shaay in the chest.
You don't feel mentally strong enough to command your falcon.
sb
You start to concentrate on the forthcoming bash.
0% 0% 0%|6604
> Shaay brushed you harmlessly with a claw.
s
Shaay suddenly lunges for your throat!
You lose your concentration on the bash.
You cannot go that way.
0% 0% 0%|6604
> ** HP: 72/202   SP: 17/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Shaay's claws ripped into your throat.
ashape beldros
What?
0% 0% 0%|6604
> You chop furiously at Shaay's neck.
Shaay screams loudly from the pain!
You missed Shaay.
Shaay missed you.
** HP: 74/202   SP: 17/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
** HP: 74/202   SP: 19/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Shaay suddenly lunges for your throat!
You missed Shaay.
** HP: 60/202   SP: 19/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Shaay mutilated your throat into a bloody mess.
You sever Shaay's arm!
You missed Shaay.
Shaay clawed a bleeding wound in your throat.
Shaay suddenly lunges for your throat!
reply faan
** HP: 60/202   SP: 14/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Ok.
0% 0% 0%|6604
> You slashed Shaay across the face.
** HP: 43/202   SP: 14/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Shaay gutted you with a lightning-fast rake.
You missed Shaay.
Shaay's claws ripped into your left shoulder.
sh
Shaay is in undamaged shape.
0% 0% 0%|6604
> Shaay suddenly lunges for your throat!
You missed Shaay.
** HP: 32/202   SP: 14/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Shaay tore out a large chunk of your flesh.
You miss Shaay completely with a misdirected blow.
You slashed Shaay.
Shaay's claws sunk into your left side, piercing deeply.
Shaay suddenly lunges for your throat!
You slashed Shaay.
** HP: 19/202   SP: 14/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Shaay tore your throat into shreds.
** HP: 19/202   SP: 9/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Ok.
0% 0% 0%|6604
> sh
Shaay is in undamaged shape.
0% 0% 0%|6604
> You missed Shaay.
Shaay suddenly lunges for your throat!
shape beldros
Beldros is in very weak shape.
0% 0% 0%|6604
> ** HP: 5/202   SP: 9/202
** Shaay is in undamaged shape.
Shaay tore out a large chunk of your flesh.
You missed Shaay.
shape beldros
Beldros is in deplorable shape.
0% 0% 0%|6604
> Shaay's claws sunk into your head, piercing deeply.
> ** HP: 4/202   SP: 9/202
You miss Shaay completely with a misdirected blow.
You missed Shaay.
You feel a stabbing sensation in your forehead.
Shaay cut your neck with his claws.
> ** HP: 2/202   SP: 9/202
You slashed Shaay across the face.
You scream a silent scream as violent fire erupts inside your mind, searing your
soul, burning all your secrets to ashes.
sh
Shaay is in undamaged shape.
0% 0% 0%|6604
> Shaay's claws sunk into your left shoulder, piercing deeply.
> ** HP: 1/202   SP: 9/202
You cut Shaay lightly.
sh
Shaay is in undamaged shape.
0% 0% 0%|6604
> Shaay's claws sunk into your right shoulder, piercing deeply.
> ** HP: 0/202   SP: 9/202
Shaay howls in pain as you thrust your bastard sword through his ribcage!
You are victorius!
Shaay died.
You missed some mist.
Duel area entrance <e>.
Your hunting falcon.
Corpse of Shaay.
some mist drifts around.
Some mist tickled you in the stomach.
Ghost of Shaay says: nice
** HP: 2/202   SP: 9/202
.
** HP: 2/202   SP: 11/202
 
 
 Yay, Beldros.
 

[Polar]

---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 9    ---
 
 The following people were married since the last issue of the paper.
 
 
Narya was married to Lectral by Lectral Fri May  1 00:55:23 1998
Bubbabuzgut was married to Helmy by Nothel Fri May  1 20:46:13 1998
Traian was married to Luma by Gabe Tue May  5 20:54:17 1998
Amy was married to Sarcotome by Sarcotome Mon May 11 18:23:23 1998
Michel was married to Abegail by Nobody Sat May 23 18:20:44 1998
Silenser was married to Jarmana by Odd Mon May 25 13:38:42 1998
Sirrah was married to Andora by Newton Thu May 28 18:03:30 1998
Charisma was married to Wireman by Charisma Thu May 28 23:13:10 1998
Toth was married to Anxious by Toth Thu Jun  4 08:52:59 1998
Agbane was married to Brujah by Toth Sun Jun  7 20:59:34 1998
Jadea was married to Beleriand by Leowon Sun Jun 14 01:43:45 1998
Thaadd was married to Avis by Avis Tue Jun 16 05:10:39 1998
Xalian was married to Hotwetzeusa by Lwaxana Fri Jun 19 16:08:33 1998
Darwin was married to Tippytoes by Seoman Sat Jun 20 10:15:21 1998
Hungrig was married to Frusen by Reece Mon Jun 22 00:38:55 1998
Minimouse was married to Mickeymouse by Asterix Wed Jun 24 20:48:57 1998
Bass was married to Jesod by September Tue Jun 30 01:23:05 1998
Mortal was married to Immortal by Newton Thu Jul  9 17:30:30 1998
Clumsy was married to Gander by Snafu Sun Jul 12 08:51:16 1998
Egeanin was married to Quartz by Quartz Sat Jul 18 01:01:35 1998
Asaloki was married to Runafalcon by Slater Sat Jul 18 07:03:00 1998
Khazad was married to Leuca by Orgalforxa Sat Aug  8 00:16:41 1998
Mikaa was married to Mordraug by Mikaa Wed Aug 12 13:41:57 1998
Ciana was married to Mats by Mats Mon Aug 17 13:16:42 1998
Gurk was married to Rockoletta by Gurk Mon Aug 17 19:50:48 1998
Kalrach was married to Lisa by Mami Mon Aug 24 02:04:16 1998
Dunstan was married to Hebe by Frot Tue Aug 25 00:35:43 1998
Apollyon was married to Finn by Rupey Sat Aug 29 07:30:09 1998
Lovecraft was married to Melee by Melee Sun Aug 30 03:30:32 1998
Vampyress was married to Gicu by Darkcry Tue Sep  1 11:30:15 1998
Special was married to Jemma by Yyrkoon Wed Sep  9 20:19:12 1998
Levitan was married to Foxy by Nothel Mon Sep 14 22:36:24 1998
Ellie was married to Willett by Grover Tue Sep 15 23:34:05 1998
Garfunkel was married to Niena by Leowon Wed Sep 16 23:33:12 1998
Valentine was married to Fiji by Beleriand Sat Sep 19 00:52:57 1998
Lonewolf was married to Oak by Lonewolf Thu Sep 24 00:36:49 1998
Lleucu was married to Joxer by Aleea Thu Sep 24 08:54:46 1998
Zev was married to Aldrin by Aishiteru Sat Sep 26 10:06:19 1998
Abe was married to Abesbabe by Aishiteru Sat Sep 26 12:06:11 1998
Tobin was married to Dust by Snafu Sun Sep 27 01:21:07 1998
Decebal was married to Vixxen by Quota Thu Oct  1 07:18:18 1998
Ica was married to Konsum by Whistler Fri Oct  2 00:30:42 1998
Valkris was married to Deety by Snafu Sat Oct  3 02:50:18 1998
Samba was married to Howler by Aishiteru Sat Oct  3 06:04:40 1998
Blizzard was married to Leedoo by Quota Sun Oct  4 15:34:14 1998
Shalom was married to Mirla by Dunstan Mon Oct  5 19:33:47 1998
Rolland was married to Dixy by Rolland Fri Oct  9 08:46:20 1998
Flair was married to Courtney by Kytten Mon Oct 19 03:19:17 1998
Tommyboy was married to Teamo by Aishiteru Thu Oct 22 14:40:02 1998
Iceberg was married to Rowena by Arbre Sat Oct 24 21:29:13 1998
Tiana was married to Vance by Ferrodor Fri Oct 30 17:55:44 1998
Exiver was married to Sheena by Keldo Mon Nov  2 16:09:57 1998
Malagant was married to Moira by Lys Sun Nov  8 06:54:37 1998
Lucho was married to Esperanza by Arraquwain Thu Nov 12 22:22:44 1998
Pallas was married to Laura by Connor Fri Nov 13 12:27:43 1998
Quota was married to Kati by Quota Fri Nov 13 12:51:13 1998
Drahe was married to Ice by Drahe Sun Nov 22 17:43:26 1998
Loloka was married to Enyll by Iceberg Thu Nov 26 16:24:24 1998
Mel was married to Taralee by Beldin Sat Nov 28 00:34:04 1998
Dagoth was married to Anduin by Dagoth Sun Nov 29 17:51:07 1998
Sopus was married to Sky by Nothel Mon Nov 30 04:22:06 1998
Pit was married to Eurydice by Tobin Mon Nov 30 04:48:39 1998
Spankybutt was married to Rufey by Moocow Fri Dec  4 11:55:28 1998
Wispy was married to Tuft by Titleist Fri Dec  4 19:44:11 1998
Agnoluto was married to Toffee by Mistress Sat Dec  5 16:21:39 1998
Belly was married to Miracle by Andra Mon Dec  7 05:06:47 1998
Goth was married to Aderyn by Dagoth Tue Dec  8 20:50:37 1998
Dax was married to Star by Jifse Fri Dec 11 06:18:42 1998
Elysia was married to Orpheus by Mats Mon Dec 14 10:27:39 1998
Ylfa was married to Grond by Ylfa Wed Dec 16 13:00:02 1998
Gabriel was married to Mariko by Lonewolf Thu Dec 17 00:50:00 1998
Lyr was married to Littleangel by Iceberg Fri Dec 18 22:08:42 1998
 
 Ball and chain, ball and chain, ball and chain . . .
 


---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 10   --
 
PERSONALS
 
SWM, knight, looking for his lady fair. Must be young and as beautiful
as sun above, paler than moon, slender as beech and with hair spun of
gold. Must be princess (preferably only child of elderly monarch and
stand to inherit kingdom forthwith). ABSOLUTELY MUST BE VIRGIN (must
pass unicorn test). Prefer princess be trapped in tower by at least one
dragon and poss. by orcs, trolls and/or bandits. No commoners.
 
SWM. Can't tell you my profession, but it starts with "W." Looking to play
sugar daddy: you give me cheap, mindless mudsex and you find out about how
the world works. Want to get ahead here? Stick with me and you'll be coding
your own area.
 
S Simyarin. Have fetish for the letter "k": ISO big, strong
Kitten/Khorne/knight to defend me from the world. I can be whatever
gender you need me to be and can glow in all the colors of the rainbow.
 
SF Vampire. Looking for someone fleshy. Want to lose weight? They say the
first thing you lose when you diet is water, and they also say that blood

 
SWM adventurer hey i keep hearign abt 'mudsex' what is it???? where can i
get some???? are there any dirty pictures on this mud???? send responce
fast mom may come in any minute and i need to get my pants back OH CRAP
 
SM chef. Looking for good eater, pref. one who can kill own main dish:
knight, kitten, dark, Cthulhu cultist, druid, monk, etc. You kill, I cook,
we all get guild points.
 
SM monk, looking for couple. It's against my vows to indulge myself in the
erotic joys of the flesh, but Lars never said I couldn't watch. I promise
not to have lascivious thoughts. I just want to show my respect for Lars'
workmanship, for He made nothing that is ugly in His eyes, and I want to
show my devotion to Him by praising _all_ of His works. DISCRETION IS A MUST.
 
S leper (not sure what gender I am any more), looking for other S leper.
Maybe between us we'll have enough parts for one complete person. Let's
make the beast with one back.
 
SF Cthulhu cultist. Looking for someone for whom the spiritual life is the
most important thing, gender not important. Must be willing to put your
life in my hands and open your heart. Cthulhu is coming. Are you ready?
 
S Druid. Willing to change gender, age, whatever, for right person. I
really like sex and I really like to talk about it. My tree is nice and
warm and I've got a woody. Drill me a knothole, baby.
 
SF member of darks' guild. Photophobic. ISO other creatures of the night.
Hang with me and you won't ever want to turn the lights on. No morning
people.
 
SM Khorne. Looking for traditional SF with a twist: one who understands
that my job comes first and doesn't want XP/QP for herself, but also one
who can soften up big kills and doesn't shy away from blood (healing skills
a BIG plus). Are you woman enough?
 
SM hunter, looking for pioneer woman. Good provider: I can kill 'em and
skin 'em and sell the pelts for good money, and I can put a roof over our
heads with my own two hands. Expect no less from partner. Let's live off
the land and sing together under the stars.
 
SF Kitten. Looking for SM philosopher/poet, one who understands that the
most important thing in life is balance and that to make an omelette you
have to break a few eggs (and/or heads). You must have the brains to
discuss theory and the balls to put the theory into practice. If you're
all of these, my specialization will be making you purr.
 
SM master ISO other members of my guild. Failing that, ISO slave. Worship
me (please)!
 
>
> read page 11
You read page 11 in your newspaper.

---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 11   --
 
  ARIES (MARCH 21 - APRIL 19)
   All representatives are busy.  Try back in an hour.  When you get through,
  say, "Now it's your turn to hold!" Put them on hold.  They will hang up,
  but you will have proven your point.  Which, to the best of my knowledge,
  is vague.
 
  TAURUS (APRIL 20 - MAY 20)
   About one hundred years ago, Teddy Roosevelt sent the American fleet
  halfway around the world even though Congress denied him funding to send
  it entirely around the world.  Once it got halfway he applied again for
  funding in order to get the fleet home.  Don't do this to your girlfriend,
  it's not cool.
 
  GEMINI (MAY 21 - JUNE 20)
   Here is a way to confuse motorists: jump in the street and run in a
  circle.  When someone yells, "Hey jackass, get out of the road!" yell back,
  "Sorry, my mistake."
 
  CANCER (JUNE 21 - JULY 22)
   "When will you get a favorable horoscope?" you ask.  Today!  You will fall
  in love with a one-legged pony with an adorable penchant for mischief.
  This is good because you love the pony.  Also, in the pony's bottom is a
  briefcase with one million dollars.  It's buried in there pretty deep, so
  don't be afraid to reach in and dig around.  If anyone asks what you're
  doing, tell 'em I sent you.
 
  LEO (JULY 23 - AUGUST 22)
   Every once in a while there is a miracle.  Sometimes it's finding twenty
  dollars in the pocket of a random pair of pants, and sometime it is the
  parting of an ocean to allow your people to escape slavery.  However, this
  week you will see a good film and eat a delicious candy bar.  Sometimes it
  is that too.
 
  VIRGO (AUGUST 23 - SEPTEMBER 22)
   Hot stocks to watch for: AOL, CIEN, EBAY, MRK, PAH, and CSCO.  I have two
  words for you: Sell Dell.  (Note: do not construe this horoscope as an
  assurance that the values of these stocks will rise.  Investing in equities
  is a risky business.  Also, don't bet against Michael Dell.  He's made lots
  of people millionaires.)
 
  LIBRA (SEPTEMBER 23 - OCTOBER 22)
   Pharmacogenomics.  What, you ask?  It's the study of how variations in
  people's DNA change the way that drugs affect them.  What does this mean
  to you, you ask?  It's an important field - drop whatever you're doing,
  get a degree in biomedical engineering, join the revolution.  You work at
  Sir Speedy, you say?  Well, then, don't drop what you're doing, but come
  out and cheer!  We're on our way to map the human gene!
 
  SCORPIO (OCTOBER 23 - NOVEMBER 21)
   When you go to a dry cleaner it is because you need something cleaned.
  The same is true when you go to a laundromat.  But this is not the case
  when you go to court tomorrow morning.  You go to court because you are on
  trial.  You are on trail because your pants were at the cleaners, your mind
  was in the gutter, and your hands were in the mind of the dry cleaner.
  Stop using your psychokinetic ability to control everyone in the cleaning
  professon to pleasure you aurally.  The sounds they make, though sweet,
  are not for you to pluck from them with your powers.
 
  SAGITTARIUS (NOVEMBER 22 - DECEMBER 21)
   Congratulations!  You have learned how to read!  Good for you!  Who's my
  good reader?  That's right - YOU!  Now why don't you get me a snack?
  Run along now.
 
  CAPRICORN (DECEMBER 22 - JANUARY 19)
   You will be unstoppable this week.  There's no stopping you, at least not
  this week.  Don't waste that kind of power.  Start a business next week.
  Or ask that girl out.  Of course, after next week, all bets are off - the
  business will go under, probably, and the girl will break up with you, but
  you'll cross that bridge when you come to it.  For example, you could have
  the girl run the business.  Yes, that's it - have the girl run the
  business.  The challenges of running a business will distract her from your
  inadequacies, and her 17 years as a CPA will help put the business on a
  strong footing, at least from an accounting viewpoint.
 
  AQUARIUS (JANUARY 20 - FEBRUARY 18)
   Pow!  A ninja chop to your head.  Slam!  A ninja kick to your back.
  Thunk!  A ninja throwing star, sunk deep into your chest.  Ninjas will
  figure heavily this week.  So beware!  When out and about, keep an eye
  cocked for black-clad warriors, crouched in unexpected places.  Like
  Baskin Robbins, where no one expects ninjas, since they are assumed to be
  very healthy, and ice cream is very fatty.  Look for them crouched near
  the yogurt.
 
  PISCES (FEBRUARY 19 - MARCH 20)
   This week, you will be put to the test.  And if you don't pass, you won't
  get blessed.  And if the test consists of pleasuring my whole crew, then,
  goddamnit, that's what you've got to do.  After all, my crew is very
  lonely.  They are all coming off bad break-ups.
 

[Polar]

---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 12   --
 
  One of the newer guilds, Hunters, is located in Vincent's area.  Opened for
 nearly six months, it has already attracted attention and players, though
 it does not rival the size of guilds such as knights or kittens.  However,
 as in some other guilds, most of the advantages are not readily apparent
 to the casual viewer.
 
  The guild head, Vincent, came up with the concept nearly a year ago in
 January 1998 while waiting for approval of "yet another quest".  It was
 originally thought of as a "Pioneers guild" (think Daniel Boone, Davy
 Crockett .. or a trailblazing type in buckskins) but coincidentally, it
 was rather similar to a guild that Czygorwan was working on called Wardens.
 The emphasis of the guild was changed from 'pioneer' to 'hunter' while
 retaining the core of the original idea.  Later that month, Vincent
 submitted the guild documentation to Dwinbar and received approval to code
 it.  Lonewolf was asked to aid with testing, and when Czygorwan abandoned
 his attempt to code a guild, allowed Vincent to use some of their similar
 ideas.
  Over the next few months features were added and Avis joined to help test
 and suggest ideas.  In early May the guild was complete, and submitted in
 its entirely to Dwinbar, who then made a list of required changes before it
 would be allowed to open.  These changes took several weeks, and in June,
 the guild began playtesting with Guile, Jass, Joph, Kelli, and Bauhaus.
 These five played for nearly a month, finding the bugs and typos that had
 slipped past the wizards, and the transition of guild admin from Dwinbar to
 Vulcan had only a small effect on the Hunters guild, as he had his own list
 of required changes and ideas.  It was approved to open on June 28, 1998.
  The first five hours went by quickly - Ask, Dethor, Dragonspawn, Humpe,
 Kit, Lynx, Mie, and Prisma joined and began experimenting with their new
 skills.  Because of a shortage of bowie knives, only a small number of
 players were allowed to join Hunters at that time.  The first week was a
 busy one, with new races of monsters discovered and several minor bugs
 identified and fixed.  At the end of that week, five hunters reached
 Amateur Hunter status - Dragonspawn, Humpe, Backstab, Split, and Shauku.
  The first month resulted in several ideareports from devoted players, and
 some new commands were added to the guild.  Equipment was occasionally in
 short supply, though most of the players were able to add their own
 creations to the trading post.  At the end of July, six players were at
 Experienced Hunter status - Kit, Headcapo, Gloom, Backstab, Split, and
 Artemis.
  All of these players were quickly passed by Gelbart, however, who joined
 the guild on August 21st as an utter novice and, 14 game-days later,
 became the guild's first Head Hunter on November 24th.

  The guild is similar to Simyarin, in that a player selects which skills
 he wishes to have and advances mastery in each specific one.  In Hunters,
 each skill is expressed as a percentage going up to 99%, at which point
 the skill can no longer be advanced.  As the percentage rises, it becomes
 progressively harder to advance the skill - it takes as much time to go
 from 0 to 50 as it does to go from 98 to 99.  Each skill listed in the
 training hall has a certain skill point cost and a certain gold coin cost,
 along with a grade requirement.  However, unlike Simyarin, a Hunter can
 learn every available skill: for those who dislike questing, level 15 is
 the highest necessary to obtain every skill.
  Though a Hunter has skills in various weapons (knife, longbow, tomahawk,
 machete, etc) his effectiveness at attacking a certain monster depends
 partly upon his skill at hunting that type of monster.  Each race of
 monster has its own skill percentage.  If you hunt dragons often, for
 example, your skill will increase in that race, and you become more
 effective attacking that type of monster.
  However, the race skills slowly decline over time if they go unused (the
 normal skills do not).  This represents the risk of getting "out of
 practice" or "losing your touch" with regards to certain races.
 
  The guild lacks the stringent rules of most other guilds, reflecting the
 individuality of hunters.  Most of the rules are enforced by the guild
 rather than by guild heads or mortal guild heads.  Hunters must remain
 sober: though they can drink alcohol to heal, their skills suffer
 dramatically if they attempt to use them while drunk.  They must remain
 neutral: they require a balance in their lives, and if they stray too far
 in either direction, their skills will suffer and they cannot advance.
 They must also use their guild-specific equipment: though they can use
 quest-specific weapons and armour, they will be less effective than normal.
 The only 'rule' that is enforced by the guild head is simple; outright
 misbehaviour can be punished, with the result being that the hunter's skills
 suffer as if he were drunk.
 
  The skills in the guild are suited to the concept of a hunter.  The basic
 skill allows them to skin a corpse for a pelt or a scalp, which they then
 turn into various pieces of armour or sell at the guild headquarters for
 guild points and gold coins.  Some of the most common skills (besides the
 weapon skills) are 'bundle', 'make', and 'repair'.  The bundle skill allows
 a hunter to wrap several pelts together into one bundle for ease of
 carrying, whereas the make and repair skills are essential for hunter
 equipment.  By using pelts and other items, they can create weapons and
 armour for themselves or other hunters.
  Unlike any other guild, though, this equipment has a specific condition
 and will deteriorate through use.  As a hunter keeps bashing things in the
 head with his tomahawk, it will dull and become less useful; at this point
 the repair skill shows its use.  It can improve the condition of items
 that are wearing out or are broken, but only to a certain extent.  High
 quality materials will result in high quality items, too.
 
  In the opinions of some of the guild members, the best things about the 
 guild included the fact that a full set of high-quality hunter equipment
 is unrivalled by anything else (some high-grade hunters can kill a monster
 without taking a single hp in damage), making your own equipment, choosing
 your own abilities rather than being forced to choose, the race-based
 hunting system, and above all, very helpful guild members and a very active
 guild head.
  What some of the members disliked about the guild was the alignment
 requirement - they found it harder to stay perfectly neutral than they had
 thought.  Slow advancement and a weak beginning were also noted; more than
 one drew a correlation with Simyarin (which tend to be weak even at high
 levels anyway).  The hunter equipment was also a mixed blessing - it
 deteriorated a little faster than some might like, and the fact that Hunters
 cannot use non-guild weaponry is difficult at times, but Hunters with high
 skills in their machete or longbow can hit harder than almost any unique
 weapon.
 
  The following are some quotes from hunters regarding their guild:
 
  Sutekh tells you: hmm three best, the ability to chose different abilities,
         how killing different types of animals are rewarded, the hands on
         leadership of vincent who works hard and is very active in the guild
         to make it better, those are three best
  Sutekh tells you: like sims it takes along time to eventually get very
         good, you start out weak but in the end if you stick with it you
         will be strong, but the length of time and the commitment is Huge
  Sutekh tells you: 2nd its too bad we can't use uniques but i haven't had
         machete not to say tomahawk so i don't know if a hunter misses some
         of the uniques
  Sutekh tells you: 3rd hunters at least to start are going to be on the poor
         side, but eventually they will be self sufficent, this is all IMHO
  Annie tells you: Three best... Active and creative Guild Head, Nice
        players, A sence of independence... Three worst Training can be slow,
        Must stay active, and It's a solitary lifestyle...
  Kit tells you: we partied yesterday with Huntingjoe and killed the
      arch-balrog in one round.
 

[Polar]

---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 13   --
 
                        A Knight's Christmas Carol
 
 
                               By:  Elysia
 
 
 
        "Terin!" The voice boomed throughout Camelot.  "Get in here!"
        Terin Kratchet hesitantly made his way to the GuildHead's
chambers and peeked in.  "Yes, Maelstorm?"
        The office was meticulously neat and tidy, and behind one of
the large oak desks sat Ebenezer Maelstorm, a pair of wire spectacles
perched on his nose and a pile of folders on his desk.  He was waving
one about, and gestured Terin into the room.  "Sit down," he said
brusquely.  Terin took a seat, nervously wringing his hands.
        Calmly, Maelstorm opened the folder, and pulled out a sheet of
paper.  "This," he began, "Is the banfile for Trenton.  I believe you
banished him..."
        "Yes, sir, I did..."
        Maelstorm glanced up quickly.  "Don't interrupt unless I ask
you a specific question, understood?"
        Terin nodded mutely.  Maelstorm pushed the spectacles further
back on the bridge of his nose with one finger and gave his attention
to the sheet of paper.  "Now.  You were the one who banished Trenton,
correct?"
        Terin gave a mental sigh.  "Yes, sir, I did."
        "Then why," Maelstorm's calm demeanor was quickly slipping,
"Did you -not- make a banfile?"  Maelstorm held up the piece of paper,
which simply said 'Trenton, banished 17 June 97 eternally'.  Terin
frowned.
        "I wasn't..." he began, thinking of how Elysia had said she'd
take care of it.  Then, after a moment's hesitation, he responded.
"I'm afraid I forgot to do it, sir.  It will never happen again."
        Maelstorm exploded.  "You're right it will never happen
again!" he roared.  "I'm docking a week's pay for this!"
        Terin paled.  "But sir...you don't pay us, remember?"
        Maelstorm frowned.  "Oh that's right.  Then you're fired.
Hand in your grail at the door, Terin, and never let me see you
around here again."
        Terin stood quickly.  "But sir!" he exclaimed.  "You can't
just...degrail me like this!  It's...it's my first offense!  Rule
number 5,042 in the 'Book of Maelstorm's Mostly Pointless Knight
Rules' says that every RT receives a second chance...and besides,"
Terin's voice was slightly pleading.  "It's Christmas Eve."
        "Christmas?!" Maelstorm barked.  "Bah, humbug!"
        "Please, sir.  If not in the spirit of Christmas, then do it
because it's a rule?"
        Maelstorm thought for a moment.  "No."
        "But sir, it's Chri..."
        Maelstorm looked up, his facial expression one that brooked
no argument.
        Terin sighed as he stood.  Maelstorm gave him one last glance,
then went back to his work.  His eyes stinging, he fumblingly
unsnapped the grail from his belt, and sat it on a table by the door.
As he was closing the door on his way out, Maelstorm could hear the
slight strains of a merry Christmas song.
 
 
        "God rest ye, merry RT knights,
         let nothing you dismay..."
 
        Maelstorm bounded up, caught the door as it was closing, and
yelled down the hall.  "Stop that infernal racket!" he cried.
Instantly, the voices became hushed.  Terin, who'd barely gotten out
of the door, was crouched on the floor, shielding himself with both
arms. Maelstorm glanced down at him, snorted, then slammed the door
shut forcefully.  "Damn merrymakers," he mumbled to himself, taking a
seat behind his desk again.
        Just then, there came a knock.
        "What is it?" He snapped. 
        The door opened, and Bowen poked his head in.  "I-I have a
letter for you," he said.
        Maelstorm rolled his eyes.  "Then give it here!" he boomed.
        Bowen almost ran over to his desk, dropping the letter into
his open hand.  Then he just as hastily ran through the door, closing
it behind him.  Just before the door shut, he said "Merry Christmas,
Maelstorm."
        "Bah!" the GuildHead shouted.
        The door -clicked- firmly.
        Maelstorm looked down at the piece of paper.  It read:
 
          GH Maelstorm;
 
                        It's once again time for our annual
          'Help the  Apprentice  Wizards' fund.  This year,
          we ask that every GuildHead make a small donation
          of one half-hour of his or her time to help teach
          an  Apprentice  Wizard a  little about  running a
          guild.  You didn't  reply last year,  or the year
          before...or the year before that.  We assume that
          our letters  were lost.   This  year,  we sent it
          through  one of  your esteemed  Knights.  Hope to
          hear from you soon,
 
                                    --The GuildHead Association
 
        Maelstorm snorted loudly.  "Bah." he muttered, opening a
drawer marked 'GuildHead Association Charities' and dropping the
letter in, atop a growing pile of papers.  Some of the envelopes were
unopened.  He shut the drawer with a decisive thump.  Then he went
back to his work.
        Seven hours later, Maelstorm slid the last banfile into the
cabinet.  After checking to make sure that the office was in complete
order, he closed his eyes, raised both hands toward the ceiling, and
called a strong, magically contained tornado which lifted him from
the floor and transported him to his workroom.
        As he walked across the stony grey level, an infinite, clouded
expanse in every direction, he spied a gaily wrapped package on the
floor.  A little card attached read "Merry Christmas".  A few mumbled
words turned the package to dust, and a strong gust of wind blew the
grains away.
        Maelstorm sat at his personal desk, waving his hand over the
surface.  Suddenly, the desk became a table, and covering the table
were various delicacies; a cornucopia sat in the center of the table,
surrounded by turkey, ham, cranberry sauce, stuffing, gravy,
biscuits...
 
        After a feast fit for an Admin, Maelstorm wiped the corners
of his mouth with a delicately made linen napkin, stood, stretched,
and decided to retire for the night.  He stumbled in the dark, then
snapped his fingers, creating a small ball of incandescence to light
the way.  Soon, he was snuggled deeply into the opulent, king-sized
canopy bed, the burgundy satin curtins pulled around, enveloping him
in warm blackness.
        A deep clanging pervaded his sleep as the large grandfather
clock in the corner tolled the eleventh hour.  "Damn clock,"
Maelstorm muttered, waking slightly.  Just as sudden, the clock
stilled, replaced by a light -clopclopclop- of hooves.
        Maelstorm frowned, then sprung to his knees inside the
canopied cocoon.  He pushed aside one half of the curtain, then gasped
at what met his eyes.  Sitting on a glowingm snowy charger, bedecked
in a resplendant cloak of shimmering white, was Jacob Gompie.
        "Gompie!" Maelstorm exclaimed.  "Wha...what are you doing
here?"  The brilliance surrounding Gompie became brighter, until
Maelstorm was shielding his eyes with one hand.  He climbed out of the
bed, and walked toward the ex-GuildHead.  "Why didn't you tell me you
were stopping by?  Where -have- you been?"
        "Silence!" The sound of Gompie's voice reverberated throughout
the workroom, shattering the illusion of a limitless expanse.
Maelstorm flinched slightly.  "Jeez," he muttered.  "What's eating
you?"
        Gompie dismounted, and walked toward Maelstorm, his armour
gleaming.  "You are," Gompie announced.  "You are, Ebenezer Maelstorm.
I've heard unbelievable things about you."
        Maelstorm smiled, his chest puffing out proudly.  "I run a
tight, efficient ship," he boasted.  "Why, my knights are the most
respectful..."
        "You are a heartless, cold miser!" Gompie roared.  From his
fingertips exploded iceblue fire, coupled with overpowering, booming
thunder.  Clouds overhead became darker, and suddenly, piercing rain
began pouring down upon the cringing wizard.  Maelstorm clapped both
hands over his ears.  "I...I have to be firm," he began.
        "Shut up!" Gompie cried.  The storm that had begun raging
around Maelstorm quieted instantly.  The wizard cowered near the large
bed, drenched and shivering.  "You've made a lot of people unhappy,
Maelstorm...your greedy, selfish ways have made the Knight's guild a
miserable place to be."
        "Miserable?  Miserable?  Why...just today, in the halls,
Knights were singing!"
        "And you told them to be quiet!  They were singing Christmas
carols..."
        "Christmas?!"  Maelstorm stomped one thick slipper to the
floor.  "Bah!  What has Christmas ever done for anyone?  What has
Christmas ever done for me?"
        Gompie ignored him.  "The inner complaints, the prayers of
the Knights, each one wishing you were dead or someplace far, far
away, have culminated.  Your meanness is too great to ignore,
Maelstorm."
        "I'm not mean!" Maelstorm snapped. 
        "But, I remember a time when you were -not- mean...when you
were actually a caring, kindhearted man.  That is why I'll give you a
chance to redeem yourself."
        "Redeem myself?  Why, I've done more for this guild than..."
        "Oh, zip it.  As I was saying, a chance to redeem yourself..."
        Maelstorm interrupted yet again.  "What will happen if I don't
-redeem- myself?" he smirked.
        Gompie stood aside, and behind him, where there was once a
grey landscape, there was a fiery pit.  Smoke and flames belched
furiously from within.  In morbid fascination, Maelstorm inched closer
to the pit and glanced in.  A sudden scream made him jump, and he
averted his eyes as he backed away from the eerie sight.  Just as
suddenly, however, it was gone.
        "Does that answer your question?" Gompie grinned evilly.
        "What exactly did you have in mind?" Maelstorm shivered
fearfully.
        "I thought you'd see it my way."  Gompie replied.  "Now.
You're going to recieve three very special visitors who can help you."
        "Who?" Maelstorm asked.
        "Expect the first visitor at midnight," Gompie intoned, one
finger raised and pointed at the clock.
        "But..."
        "...Expect the first at midnight..." Gompie repeated, the
shimmer surrounding him dulling.  He began fading, and soon he and his
charger vanished.
        Left alone in the darkness again, Maelstorm shook his head.
        "Too many rich foods at dinner," he mumbled.  "A trick of the
light.  I've fallen out of bed and bumped my skull!" he exclaimed,
climbing back into bed.  He snuggled under the blankets again, falling
off into a nervous sleep.
        Bong!
        Bong!
        Maelstorm's eyes popped open.
        Bong!  Bong!
        He glanced in all directions, alert.
        Bong!  Bong!  Bong!  Bong!  Bong!
        "It was just indigestion," he reassured himself.
        Bong!  Bong!
        By this time, he was shaking quite forcibly beneath the
blankets.  As the last bell rang, he was holding the thick blankets
above his head.
        Bong!  Light.  Bright enough to invade the inkiness of his
self-made tomb.
        "Get out here, man."  Came a voice.  "Don't, like, hide from
me."
        Maelstorm frowned.  Then poked his head out.  Peering through
the curtains was a very ordinary-looking mortal.  He wore tanned
leather, fringes draped from every conceivable location.  Perched on
his nose were thick tortoise-shell glasses, and a thin beaded headband
circled his head.  He held up two fingers.  "Peace, man.  I'm not
gonna, like, hurt you or anything."
        "Who are you?" Maelstorm growled.
        "I'm Gilthoniel," came the placid response.  "I'm, like, the
Simyarin of Christmas past."
        "Oh please," Maelstorm snickered, turning his back to the
hippie.  "Argh!"  Lying beside him, looking rather cozy, was
Gilthoniel.  "Call me Gilthy," he purred.  "Or Mr. Past, if you like."
        "Get out of my bed!" Maelstorm roared.
        "Come on you lazy guildhead dude.  We've got some partying to
do!"

[Polar]

        In a swirl of blankets, Maelstorm found himself standing in
the center of Larstown.
        "Wha...?"  The roads were covered in new-fallen snow, and the
guildhead couldn't help but shiver.  He crossed his arms and began
rubbing them briskly.  "Where are we?"
        "Woot," Gilthoniel enthused, clapping his hands together.
"Right outside of the church, man." He pulled on his goatee
thoughtfully.  Then he dug into his vest, pulling out a thin booklet.
He flipped through it, then smiled.  "Ah..." he sighed happily,
turning toward the northern track.  "We go this way, man.  We've got
a party to go to."
        Maelstorm frowned, and petulantly refused to move.  "I don't
do parties...I'm not going anywhere," he shook his head.  "So you can
just take me right back where you found me..."
        He felt a tap on his shoulder.  "Yes?"
        Gilthoniel gave him a cheeky grin, and pointed to a
brightly-lit house as Maelstorm spun around.  "We're here, man."
        Maelstorm blinked, then looked about.  Sure enough, they were
no longer on the green.  "H-how...?  Oh, never mind.  Show me what
you're going to show me, then let's get out of here."
        Gilthoniel rubbed at one foggy window with his fist.  "Take
a look in here, man.  They're really getting down."
        Rolling his eyes to the sky in silent supplication, Maelstorm
neared the window, bent, and looked in.  "It's a Christmas party.
What a waste of time."  He squinted.  "Wait...is that...that's Jacob
Gompie! And...oh my god.  That's Toby Silencer."
        The Simyarin was leaning against a nearby wall, rubbing his
hands together and blowing warm air onto them.  "Yes.  A few years
ago, you and your buds had a party.  This is it."  He reached into his
vest and pulled out a tightly coiled plastic bag.  With one expert
flick of his wrist, the bag unrolled.  He opened it, lowered his nose,
and inhaled deeply.  Then he offered the bag to Maelstorm.  "Wanna
smoke?"

 
        Maelstorm waved the bag away.  "Look how young and foolish
we all were.  Fawning over women, with no concern for the future."
        "Good thing you grew up, man," Gilthoniel said sarcastically,
retrieving a small package of thin wrapping papers from another
pocket. He spread a bit of the crushed leaves into the paper, licked
it gently, then rolled it.  Resealing the bag and putting it away,
he lit the little joint and took a deep drag.
        "Dude!" he coughed slightly.  "This is some good..."
        "Shhh!" Maelstorm cautioned, pressing his back against the
wall as two of the party-goers stepped from the warmth of the house
into the chill night air.
        The attractive blonde woman smiled at the dark-haired young
man brightly.  "My dear sir," she demurred.  "Your sentiment is
well-accepted...only, I am a poor knightess with nothing to offer to
such an esteemed man as yourself."
        The man in question shook his head vigorously.  "Never say
that, love!  My feelings are true.  They will never change.  And a
love as strong as this sees not social position, but the woman that
you are.  Say you'll marry me.  Make me a happy man."
        "Young fool," Maelstorm muttered.
        Gilthoniel watched inquisitively, a spacy smile on his face.
"You know yourself well, man."  Puff.  He offered the joint to
Maelstorm again.  "Take a toke of this, man.  It's wild."
        Maelstorm frowned, tilting his head questioningly.
"Excuse me?"
        The hippie shook his head dazedly, blinked at the joint a few
times, then puffed in content.
        "Oh never mind.  How the hell am I supposed to 'redeem'
myself when I'm dragging around a drug-smoking hippie?"  He raised his
hands to the air, turned his back on Gilthoniel, and began walking
away.  Then he stopped when he heard,
        "Oh, Ebenezer Maelstorm!  How can I say no?  I love you too,
darling!"
        He spun around.  "Mistress," he breathed.  "Mistress."  He
watched, stunned, as the young couple exchanged a passionate kiss.
Then, a younger, more care-free Maelstorm bent on one knee and placed
a thin gold band on Mistress' finger.  "This is yours, love."  He
watched her delighted expression as she admired the large diamond.
        Gilthoniel was at his side, stumbling slightly.  "Man, that's
you...and she's that foxy mama you used to shack up with...whatever
happened to her?"
        Maelstorm blinked as his eyes began stinging. Self-consciously
he rubbed at his eyes.  "For the love of Lars, would you -please- get
rid of whatever it is you're smoking?"
        "Look at that," Gilthoniel ignored him, pointing.  Maelstorm
followed his line of sight, spying a very familiar-looking house.
Once again, without warning, they'd changed locations.  Now, they were
in the village, on the very outskirts, the more genteel section of
town.  Before them stood a modest, two-story brick house, smoke
streaming from the chimney.  Gilthoniel went up to the door and pushed
it, smiling as it swung open.  "Man," he called back, "Come on in!"
        Maelstorm sighed in exasperation, but followed him anyway,
grumbling foul-naturedly.  "Whose house are we breaking into?" he
asked, as they entered the darkness.  From the rear came the sound of
an argument.  He began turning away.  "Look.  I don't want to be here,
do you understand?  I don't want to..."
        "Shhh!" the Simyarin cautioned.  "They can't, like, hear us,
but you have to listen."
        "Why do I have to eavesdrop?!"
        "Man...look."  Gilthoniel pulled out the booklet again.  "Says
here that you have to listen.  I've got one chance to do this right,
man."
        Maelstorm reached for the book, but Gilthy snatched it away
just in time.  "Somethin's cooking in the kitchen, man.  You should
check it out."
        "Oh, allright!" he snapped.  He strode angrily toward the
kitchen, the voices becoming more agitated as each moment passed.  He
pushed into the kitchen, and gasped.  There he stood, young and
vigorous.  His face was contorted in a mask of pure anger, and the
demeanor of the flushed blonde matched.
        "Ebenezer!" She growled.  "Your work is tearing us apart.
You're like a machine...no warmth for me anymore!  All you care about
is your precious guild.  And although Camelot is important, I'm sure
you could find time for me...if you cared enough."
        "Can't you see I'm doing this for us?" he roared.  "We'll be
the most respected, envied citizens in all of Nanny!"
        "I don't want to be envied," Mistress cried.  "I want to be
loved!  That's it.  Your obsession with Camelot is making me crazy!"
        "What do you want me to do about it?!"
        "I hate to say this, Maelstorm...but it's either me or
Camelot.  Either you take the time to make 'us' work, or you lose me."
        Silence reigned.  The pair stared at each other, chests
heaving as emotions ran high.  Finally, Mistress shook her head.  "If
you have to think about it, then it's obviously not going to work."
She pulled the ring from her finger, walked to him, and placed it
gently in his palm.  "Let's not be enemies, Maelstorm.  I just can't
be the woman you want.  It's good we found that out before we got
married."  Sighing, she pulled on her coat, opened the kitchen door
and left into the night, never turning back once.  And Ebenezer
Maelstorm, proud and dignified, stood there, never saying a word,
never attempting to call her back.
        "That was the last time I saw her," Maelstorm whispered. 
        "Man, how could you let that diggable piece walk away?"
Gilthoniel pulled a pair of tweezers from his vest pocket, attempting
to savor every last toke from the miniscule joint.
        "What was I supposed to do?  Drag her back?  Make her stay?"
        "It's like Joe Tex said, man...gotta try a little tenderness."
He shrugged.  For an instant, wisdom shone bright in his eyes.  "You
were too proud for your own good.  Would it have hurt to cut back on
your work, maybe think about her feelings for a change?  Did success
bring you happiness, in the end?"
        "I'm happy," Maelstorm snapped.  "When I was young, I was
stupid.  Silly.  With young ideas.  I'm much older and wiser now!
Who needs love?"
        "If you could do it again...would you let her walk away?"
Gilthoniel pressed.  Maelstorm fell silent.  The Simyarin looked at
his wrist-watch.  "Man, my time is up!"  He dragged deeply from
the roach, filling his lungs with smoke, then blew it directly into
Maelstorm's face.
        Maelstorm gagged, coughing and sputtering.  His eyes teared as
he waved one hand around, trying to disperse the thick, sweetly-scented
smoke cloud.  When he next opened his eyes, an exultant cheer arose as
he found himself sitting on his comfortable, warm sofa.  "I'm back!" he
whooped.  "I'm..."
        Bong!
        "Damn," Maelstorm muttered. 
        "Hello, sir."  On top of the uncluttered oak desk, looking
more satiated than the cat that ate a family of canaries, sat Lys.
She wore a radiant yellow cloak, her cropped auburn hair a perfect
foil.  Beneath, she was clad in a simple khaki pantsuit, a gleaming
pair of hessians on her feet.  Adorning her neck was a small medal
and dangling from her thick leather belt was a mithril grail.
        Maelstorm raised an eyebrow and peered about.  He ran over
to the massive canopy bed and threw the curtains back, looking hither
and yon.  Then he dropped to his knees and took a glance under the
bed.  He shrugged, coming to some unknown conclusion.  He gave a
firm grunt.  "Lady Lys...what are you doing here at this time of the
night?  Is there something I can do for you?"
        Legs crossed daintily at the knee, Lys was the picture of
smugness.  "No, there isn't, Maelstorm.  The better question is:
what can -I- do for -you-."  She gave an angelic smile, nonchalantly
examining her fingernails.  Then she brushed some invisible speck of
dust from her clothing, all the while Maelstorm stood and grew
increasingly agitated, until finally he exploded.
        "Well, what do you want!?"
        "You," Lys said simply.
        "Lys!" he gasped.  "Since when have you been so...forward?"
Then he gave a gentle smile.  "I can understand how you'd be smitten,
knightess, but for the sake of propriety..."
        Lys rolled her eyes to the ceiling, then bounced from her
perch.  "No, Maelstorm, don't flatter yourself.  In case you haven't
figured it out yet...I'm your second 'visitor'."  She waggled her
fingers.  "Boo."
        "Don't make me laugh," Maelstorm snorted.  "-You're- here to
help me redeem myself?"
        "Who else?  I'm the RT of Christmas present."  Lys gave a
hearty chuckle.  "I had to fight to get this part...the competition
was fierce!  You're not a very popular man, you know."
        Maelstorm frowned confusedly.
        "Nevermind." She clapped her hands together, rubbing them
in anticipation.  "Okay.  We've got some business to take care of...so
this might...hurt a bit."
        "Hurt?!"
        Wham!  Maelstorm didn't know what hit him.  But a few moments
later, as Lys rubbed her right fist with a satisfied smile on her
face, he figured it out.  One hand clapped to his jaw, he growled.
"I'll have your cloak for this!" he roared.
        "I warned you!"  Lys grinned evilly.  "Besides.  I -can- use
a blunt object, I was told.  So be nice, or..." she let the sentence
hang.  Maelstorm promptly shut up, glancing around.
        "Where are we?"  They were no longer in his workroom, but
instead stood in a filthy alleyway.
        "Somewhere south of Pskov.  We're in the village."  She'd
begun walking away, and he followed as he strugged to keep her in
sight in the inky darkness.  Her stunningly bright yellow cloak helped
little.  Stealthily, they walked through the night, low sounds of
celebrating eminating from the surrounding houses.  Maelstorm wrinkled
his nose, not at the foul stench rising from the cobblestone streets,
but at the music.
        -Christmas- he thought.  -Bah humbug-
        They stopped at a particularly worn-down shed, where all was
quiet.  Lys walked around the back of the house, then peeked into a
dimly lit window.  She smiled.  "Aha."
        "You -visitors- are little less than...voyeuristic...peeping
toms!"  Maelstorm spat bitterly, bending to peer into the window as
well.
        "Well, there are a few things you have to see," Lys pointed
inside, then frowned.  "Hmm.  We can't hear a thing out here."  She
glanced at Maelstorm, a devilish light in her eyes.  Then she took
the heel of her palm and smacked it into his nose.
        When the stars faded, they were standing inside near a gaily
decorated fireplace, sans fire.  "You seem to enjoy doing that,"
Maelstorm grumbled, massaging the bridge of his nose.
        "Well, you know what they say!" Lys smiled brightly.  "Things
are always -exactly- what they seem."
        "No, that's not how it..."
        "Shhh!"  The lady knightess placed one finger to her lips.
"Look there," she pointed.  Maelstorm spun around, and gasped.
"Oh, pardon me!" he exclaimed.  "I didn't mean to intrude on your
dinner, but..."
        "They can't hear or see you, dodo."
        "Oh."
        Seated around a less-than-sturdy table were three solemn
figures, heads bowed.  The man at the head of the table was saying a
prayer, his voice low and steady.
 
 

[Polar]

---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 14   --
 
        "God, thank you for this wonderful Christmas dinner, and
the chance to be with my family for yet another memorable occasion...
thank you for our lovely turkey..."  Maelstorm frowned at the pitiful
bird on the table.  Was that a chicken, all trussed up with dressing
and garnished with parsley?  "...And all the trimmings."  Yes, 'trim'
was the appropriate word.  On the table, there lie the turkey, stuffed
nearly to bursting with dressing, and there were rolls.  A bottle of
wine.  A tankard of punch.  And that was it.
        "What a meager meal," Maelstorm thought aloud.
        Lys raised an eyebrow.  "That's all an RT can afford these
days...since you don't -pay- us anything.  What do you expect?"
        The prayer done, Terin Cratchet gave a heartfelt 'Amen'.
Mrs. Cratchet and the young boy at the table did the same.  Cheri
poured the wine, and a cup of punch for their adopted son, Tiny
Tremerus.
        "I say we toast to Arthur...and to Camelot.  And to the
Assembly of the Knights, which has been our home for so long.  And
will one day be the home of our son."  She smiled at Tremerus, who was
fidgeting in his seat.  Cheri Cratchet was the epitome of all that was
petite and fragile.  Her bouncy strawberry-blonde curls stole Terin's
breath away at times.  She wore her Christmas dress; a lovely, if
somewhat threadbare, high-waisted creation, with lace and ruffles from
neck to ankle.
        Terin gazed upon her adoringly, lifting his glass and taking a
sip.  Tremerus eagerly did the same, mimicking his mentor with respect
that bordered idolizing.
        "They are a very loving family," Maelstorm offered. 
        "Hush." Lys gave rapt attention to the warm scene before them.
        Terin thought for a moment.  "I say we give a toast to our
family and to good friends."  Cheri nodded, her eyes bright.  As an
afterthought, Terin added, "...And especially to Ebenezer Maelstorm.
My thoughts to him this Christmas Eve."
        The mood in the room suddenly changed.
        "Has it grown chilly in here or is it me?" Maelstorm wondered
aloud.
        Cheri's lovely ivory skin developed a rosy bloom.
"-Especially- to that tight-fisted, mean-tempered, odious man?  I
think not!"  Her little hand was clenched tightly around the wine-
glass.  "What has he done for us?  Nothing!  But caused us misery,"
she tacked on.  "The one thing...the -one- thing that keeps me from
totally loathing the man is that he had the good sense to accept you
at the Round Table."
        "I wanna be an RT just like you," Tremerus smiled up at Terin
adoringly.
        Maelstorm gulped.
        Terin gulped.
        Lys stared intensely at Maelstorm for a long, telling moment,
then cast her eyes back to the family.
        "Well, Cheri..." he began, paling a bit.  "I...I have some
not-so-good news."
        Cheri frowned, her eyes narrowing.  "What?"
        Terin closed his eyes, then pressed ahead.
        "I was fired today."
        The silence was palpable.  Then a sudden explosion.
        "Fired!" Cheri exclaimed.  "Whatever for?  Why?  What
happened?"
        "Well..." Terin sighed.  "I neglected to make up a banfile for
someone I banished earlier this year...it was a silly, stupid error..."
        Lys hmmed.  "You know," she said.  "Terin wasn't supposed to
fill out that banfile."
        Maelstorm frowned at Lys.  "Yes, he was.  You're always
supposed to fill out a banfile, whenever you banish someone."
        "I know that...only, Elysia told him that -she'd- take care of
it.  -She- was supposed to make up that banfile, not him."
        For one stunned moment, Maelstorm was silent.  Then he said

quietly, "Then it should have been -her- that I fired, not Terin."
        The knightess shook her head sadly.  "You still don't get it,
do you?  Why fire someone for a simple slip-up like that?  Why are
you so harsh, Maelstorm?  Why are you so miserable?  And you make
others go through your misery with you!"
        Maelstorm tried to summon up a burst of anger, but somehow
couldn't succeed.  "You have to be harsh and firm to keep things in
order," he said weakly.  "Let's not talk about it," he sighed, turning
back to the table.  The young boy was gone, his chair lying on its
side on the floor, and Terin sat dejected, his head in his hands.
        "He doesn't respect me anymore," Terin murmured.
        Mrs. Cratchet, a single tear escaping her eye, gave her
husband a tight hug.  "I do...and he will as well.  You don't have
to be an RT for me to know that you're the most chivalrous, honorable
man I've ever known.  I'd love you if you were a...a druid!"
        Terin chuckled, turning to her.  "Would you love me if I were
a mad, blood-splattered warrior of Khorne?"
        Cheri wrinkled her nose.  "Well...I wouldn't go that far..."
        The loving couple burst into laughter.  And just like that,
everything was all right.
        A silent, thoughtful expression across his face, Maelstorm
turned away from the table.  "That young boy," he said.  "Would
*Press return for more or q to end. >
probably turn out to be..." the words stuck in his throat.  "A fine
Knight."
        "See?  It didn't kill you to give a little praise to
something besides your precious self.  In any case, who knows if
he'll be a Knight now?  Christ, he probably imagines a fire-breathing
GuildHead is hiding in his closet!  I wouldn't be surprised if he
became a monk, if he thinks that -you're- going to be waiting for him
at Camelot."  Lys shook her head again.  "And now, he thinks that his
father is a failure.  Fired from such an honorable, high position.
It's a damn shame that he didn't deserve it."
        That hidden anger suddenly decided to show it's face.
"Enough!" Maelstorm snapped.  "What do you want me to do?  I...I
made a mistake!  Everyone makes mistakes!"
        "...And in your 'Book of Mostly Pointless Knight Rules' it
says that everyone deserves a second chance."
        "Right!" Maelstorm nodded vigorously.
        "Well, that didn't stop you from firing Terin!" Lys pulled
back her balled fist, and gave a particularly vicious punch that landed
squarely on Maelstorm's chin.
        Maelstorm came to, blinking.  His vision blurred for a moment,
and as he sat up, he smacked his head against something hard.  He got
to his knees and crawled out from beneath the large desk in his
*Press return for more or q to end. >
workroom.  His entire face was sore.  Not too distant was the warm
bed, beckoning to him...
        Bong!
        "No!" he shouted.  "Please no...no more!"
        Bong!
        As the clock tolled two, a violent wind ripped through the
room, forcefully blowing apart the lapels of Maelstorm's expensive
silk pajamas.  With it came...were those snow flurries?  Something
large, loose and wet fell atop Maelstorm's head.
        It was a snow drift.
        When he finished brushing the white ice particles from his
stinging eyes, he was greeting by the singular most frightening sight
of his life.
        A bear.  A polar bear.  The size of the world, towering before
him on its hind legs.  He almost fell over, his head tilted back
and staring in awe at the sheer size of the beast.
        A brilliant, incomparable white was this bear, only his nose
and his claws of coal black shattering the illusion of a bear made
of snow.  The awesome creature looked down at Ebenezer Maelstorm, its
eyes glowing cobalt blue.  The terrible jaw lowered, exposing
razor-sharp incisors that dripped saliva...Maelstorm knew that this
was the end...
*Press return for more or q to end. >
        "Hello," the polar bear said amiably, lowering onto all fours.
        Maelstorm blinked. 
        "How do you do?" The bear exercised impeccable manners,
Maelstorm thought.
        "I could be better."  The way Maelstorm's night was going, it
wasn't too out-of-the-ordinary to hold a conversation with a bear in
the middle of a snowy plain.
        "Couldn't we all?" The bear agreed.  "Oh, by the way, you can
call me Leowon."  In a sudden burst of wind that stirred up little
flurries of snow, the bear was replaced by a tall, rather lanky man.
He wore thin, snowy white robes, with black sandals on his feet.  And
he looked perfectly in his element.  He continued.
        "I'm the er..."
        "The polar bear of Christmas future?" Maelstorm asked
curiously.
        "Something like that," Leowon nodded, digging into the deep
pockets of his robe.  He pulled out a thin booklet, flipping through
the pages.  Somewhere near the end of the book, he went "Aha!"
        "No...no, I'm the Admin of Christmas Yet to Come," he
corrected.  "But you were close enough."  As he was about to tuck
the booklet back into his pocket, Maelstorm reached out and snatched
it.
*Press return for more or q to end. >
        "Let me see that."  He frowned at the title on the cover
"A Knight's Christmas Carol".  Leowon hurriedly snatched it back.
        "Ah ah ah," Leowon wagged a finger disapprovingly at
Maelstorm. "Snatching is rude, you know.  Besides, a story is best
when you don't know the ending!"
        Maelstorm growled, tapping his foot.  "Well?"
        "Well, what?"  The taller man tilted his head.  Then his face
lit up.  "Oh, that's right!  I'm supposed to...er..."  The booklet
came out again.  This time, though, he stuck a thin "I Love Reading!"
bookmark between the pages.  "It's time to go!"
        Maelstorm instinctively cringed away from the other man.
"Look," he sighed.  "Don't hit me."
        "H-hit you?"  Flip, flip, flip went the pages.  "No, I don't
hit you.  But the RT of Christmas Present does, quite often actually,
so be warned."

[Polar]

Maelstorm muttered. 
        "Well," Leowon exclaimed cheerfully. "Let us be off!"
        A whirlwind of snow surrounded Maelstorm in an icy cloak,
then fell away.  "We're in the RT meeting room," Maelstorm instantly
recognized the surroundings.  Sitting at the table, assembled for
the first time in history, was every active RT knight and GuildHead
of Camelot.  Except one.
*Press return for more or q to end. >
        "Where am I?" Maelstorm asked curiously.  "I'd never miss
out on a meeting..."
        "Watch, listen and learn," Leowon suggested.
     "I nominate Aleea," Nothel was saying.  "She's got great
organisational skills.  And most importantly..."
        "She's congenial!" April nearly shouted.
        The entire assembly burst into helpless laughter.
        Nothel nodded.  "She's definitely that.  It will make a
big improvement.  We can really use her talents, also."
        April was stuck on her last subject.  "She'd let us have
time off for Christmas," she was saying.
        "Yeah," Alexander added, "She'd let us sing Christmas carols
in the halls if we wanted to."
        "She'd let us sing Christmas carols during an attack if we
wanted to!" Came the reply.
        "And she'd never drive a Knight to commit evil," came a deep
voice.  The entire table was silent.  Maelstorm craned his neck to
see where the voice came from.
        Sitting at a distance from the table, his chain leaned against
the wall, was a red-haired Knight, his cloak shimmering ebony with
silver threads.  His arms were crossed, and a distant, almost
painful expression captured his face.  "She'd never force someone to
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leave who didn't deserve it."
        The other knights nodded in quiet agreement, hesitant to
speak.
        Maelstorm squinted as he stared at the Knight.  Sudden
recognition came to him.  "Why...why that's..."
        "Yes, it is," Leowon nodded.  "It's Tremerus, and he's a
Knight of the Round Table now."
        Maelstorm smiled.  "I knew it when I saw him.  I said to
Lys, that boy would make a fine..."
        "Aren't you even curious about his father?  Terin Cratchet?"
        Maelstorm lowered his eyes.  "W...what about Terin?"
        The gust of wind again.  Maelstorm was getting pretty tired
of being blown from one place to the other, and was just about to
tell Leowon so when he realized that they were no longer in the
chambers of the Round Table, but were standing in a field.
        It wasn't an ordinary field, Maelstorm could immediately
tell...the grass wasn't green, but a sickly brown, tinted with red.
The air reeked of decay and death.  Leowon appeared at his side.
"There he is," he pointed.
        Maelstorm's eyes grew wide.  "That's not Terin, you must have
made a mistake."
        "Oh, but it is Terin."
*Press return for more or q to end. >
        Crouched in a feline stance, with skin the texture of thick
red leather was an almost inhuman being.  He wore a bulky collar
around his neck.  In one hand he bore a fierce, finely crafted blade
which was, amazingly enough, shouting obscenities.  The Daemon
Prince's attention was held by an old, senile man who had the
misfortune of stumbling into the fields of Khorne.  In one agile leap,
the Prince was upon the old man, mercilessly hacking at his brittle
frame.  In a burst of primal, animalistic instinct, Terin began biting
on the old man, ripping chunks of flesh from bone.
        Maelstorm turned away in disgust.  "Oh no," he cried thickly.
"No...he didn't have to..."
        "He felt that he had to," Leowon murmured.  "He became a
social pariah once everyone found out that he'd been degrailed.  No
one wanted to help him anymore.  Soon, he found that he couldn't
afford to feed his family...Cheri Cratchet went to a milliner and
sold her hair, and Tiny Tremerus ran away from home.  After a while,
Terin turned to a life of unspeakable crime...and he joined the cult
of Khorne."
        "No..." Maelstorm shook his head in shock.  "No..."
        "Yes," Leowon pressed on.  "Now, he preys on helpless men,
women and children...now, any chivalry that he had has been washed
away by the blood of countless innocent..."
*Press return for more or q to end. >
        "Stop!" Maelstorm shouted, covering his ears with both hands.
"Please, no more!  He didn't have to become such a monster!  No one
made him become such a...a hateful monster!"
        "You did!" Leowon exclaimed factfully.  "His entire life has
been one downward spiral since you took his grail away from him.
Now, Cheri is dead and gone...when she sold her hair to pay for food,
she caught pneumonia and died.  And although Tiny Tremerus has grown
up and become an esteemed Knight of the Round Table, he lives in the
fear that one day, he'll have to come face to face with his father...
and destroy him."
        Maelstorm's composure completely dissolved as he began
sobbing, huge, body-wracking sobs.  "I...I didn't know...I didn't
mean..."  He went still.  "I-I wasn't at the Round Table," he glanced
up at Leowon questioningly.  Leowon's face was dark, and a sudden fear
struck Maelstorm's heart.  "Where...where am I?  What is -my- future?"
In another freezing flurry of snow, they stood in a moon-lit graveyard
behind the old church in the center of Larstown.  Together they
slogged their way across the snow-covered grass, Maelstorm's feet numb
in his thin evening slippers.  His teeth began chattering as he
wrapped his arms about himself, trying to stay warm.
        He shook his head disbelievingly.  "They...they were talking
about me, weren't they?  Talking about replacing me..."
*Press return for more or q to end. >
        They stopped before an open grave.  The headstone was new,
it's finely chiseled letters gleaming in the starlight.  Half of it
was hidden beneath a deep snow drift.
        "Read it," Leowon commanded.
        Sick, yet unable to look away, Maelstorm approached the
tombstone.  It read:
 
 
                             ___________             
                          _=+           +=_
                         +                 +
                        '      DEMOTED      '
                       /                     \
                      (    Christmas  1997    )
                      |                       |
                      | (Now everyone -else-  |
                      |  will rest in peace)  |
                      |                       |
                      |     ____         __   |
                      |   _/    \-'_ael/'   \ |
                     =+-\+                  +--\                   
                    (_________________________'')
*Press return for more or q to end. >
Astrodeath tells you: fixed may98
 
       
        Bending, he brushed away the snow drift, certain of what he
would find, but needing to see it anyhow.  His eyes widened in terror
as he viewed the snow-covered words.
 
 
                             ___________             
                          _=+           +=_
                         +                 +
                        '      DEMOTED      '
                       /                     \
                      (    Christmas  1997    )
                      |                       |
                      | (Now everyone -else-  |
                      |  will rest in peace)  |
                      |                       |
                      |                       |
                      |   Ebenezer Maelstorm  |
                     =+-\+                  +--\                   
                    (_________________________'')
 
*Press return for more or q to end. >
 
        "No!" he shouted.  "No, this...this can't be my future.  This
can't be -their- future!" He turned to Leowon.  "Please...can't you
change it?  Can't you make it different?  Terin...he and his family
doesn't deserve this...and I...okay, so maybe I -do- deserve this, but
I don't want to be..."
 
        "I can't make it different," Leowon said solemnly.  "This is
what you've done.  This is what you've created."  He pulled out the
small book again, opening it to the last page, running over it with a
finger.  "And this is where I push you into the grave and bury you
alive," he said, one hand shooting out and knocking Maelstorm into
the freshly dug grave.
        As he lie at the bottom of the moist pit, he could feel fresh
earth being tossed in.  He climbed to his feet, slipping and vainly
grasping at the sides of the grave, coming away with handfuls of loose
dirt.  "Let me make things different!" he pleaded.  "I want to change
it!  I want to change!  Let me redeem myself!"  To no avail, he called
for mercy...soon, the fresh earth was piled up to his neck, and he had
to tilt his head back to breath.  Faced with certain death, he
breathed "Please, let me save the Cratchets.  I want to fix things."
Then he fainted.
*Press return for more or q to end. >
       
 
        "Please...let me fix things.  Let me fix things..."  He
struggled against the binding cloth until he was finally free.
Maelstorm looked around.  He was in his bed.  His big, warm,
comfortable cozy bed.
        He patted himself just to make sure that he was actually
alive, then threw the curtains apart.  Ah!  The familiar illusion of
a grey, stormy vista greeted him.  He leapt from the bed, and
mumbling a few magical words, he was in his office, in Camelot.
"I'm alive!" he shouted, running to the door and throwing it wide
open.  "I'm alive!" he crowed, dashing through the hall.  Directly
outside of the offices of the Round Table Knights, he bumped into
Bowen.  He grabbed the Knight by the shoulders and gave him a pleasant
shake.  "I'm alive," he told him.
        Bowen regarded Maelstorm fearfully.  "Yes, you are, sir."
One eyebrow raised.  "Are you alright?"
        "Am I alright?  Am I alright?  Do pigs fly?  Wait, pigs
-don't- fly.  Well, I guess the answer to your question would be
yes!  Yes!  Yes...hmm.  Tell me, Bowen," he frowned in thought.
"Where does Terin live?"
        "He lives on the outskirts of Pskov," Bowen frowned as well.
*Press return for more or q to end. >
"Why?  Are you going to decloak him as well?"  He couldn't help the
sarcasm that dripped from his voice.
        Maelstorm shook his head vigorously.  "Of course not!  Why
isn't he here?"
        "Are you serious?" Bowen muttered angrily.  "Today is
Christmas..."
        Ebenezer Maelstorm's eyes widened.  "Today is...well, Merry
Christmas, Bowen!" he exclaimed.  The Round Table Knight's jaw hit
the ground.  "M-merry Christmas...is that what you said?"
At Maelstorm's nod, Bowen's eyes narrowed.  "What kind of game is
this?" he asked.
        "Not a game, dear boy, not a game!  I'm alive, and it's going
to be a wonderful Christmas!  Do me a favor...go fetch Terin, and his
entire family.  Bring them to Camelot.  Tell as many people as you can
to go to Arthur's office.  It's important!"
        Bowen was confused, but he nodded anyhow.  "Yes, sir..."
And he broke into a run.
        Maelstorm made his way to the RT chambers.  Standing at the
posting board was Lys, cloaked in a sunny yellow cloak.  Maelstorm
stopped still as she spun around, a pair of nunchaku in one hand.
        "Oh no you don't," Maelstorm backed away.  "I've learned my
lesson, so you just put that 'blunt object' down!  I just stopped by
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to wish everyone a Merry Christmas!"
        Lys frowned, then both eyebrows went up in a stupefied
amazement.  "M-merry Christmas, did you say?"
        "Of -course- Merry Christmas!  It is Christmas, isn't it?"
        "Well, yes, it's Christmas, but..."
        Maelstorm snatched up a pen and a sheet of paper from a small
table near the posting board.  In a few bold strokes, he'd penned a
neat letter and signed it "EM".  "My dear Lady Lys of Christmas
Present...if you would so kindly deliver this to the chairman of the
GuildHead Association, I would so kindly appreciate it!"
        "You're responding to a letter from the GA?" Lys asked
dumbly.  "No, no...I'm losing my mind."
        "No, you're not!  You were completely right!  I was a jerk
for what I did to Terin!  Imagine, Tiny Tremerus having to kill his
own father..."
        "Terin is dead?!?"
        "Not if I can help it!"
        Maelstorm fled the chamber, stumbling down the flight of
stairs and running into Arthur's chambers.  It was partially full, and
more people were coming in by the minute.
        Voices vied for recognition.  "What's going on?"
        "Maelstorm's called an assembly."
*Press return for more or q to end. >
        "He's probably going to decloak us all," someone muttered.
        The occupants of the room steadily grew in numbers, until
Maelstorm was forced to stand on Arthur's desk.  The old knight was
off in a corner, asleep in a comfortable leather chair.  "Terin!"
Maelstorm cried.  "Terin Cratchet!"
        The room fell quiet.  An invisible force parted the crowd,
until a clear path from the doorway to the desk had been created.
Hesitantly, yet bravely came Terin Cratchet, Cheri at his side, and
Tremerus before him.  Maelstorm gave the young boy a fond smile.
Then he glanced up at Terin.
        "Terin..."  The knights listened with anticipation.  "Terin...
I..." Maelstorm cleared his throat.
        "I'm sorry."
        Terin's eyes widened, and Cheri gave a small sigh as she
fainted.  Whistler, who was closest to her, caught her before she
hit the floor.
        "I'm sorry for taking away what you rightfully deserve."
In a brilliant flash of emerald light, the GuildHead held in his
hands a mithril grail, which he offered to the suspicious knight.
        "Is this some kind of joke?" Terin asked, holding the grail
gingerly in his hands, then clutching it to his chest.
        "No joke!"  Maelstorm assured him, grabbing him up into a big
bear hug.  "I've been a rotten, despicable, unbearable, odious,
hard-hearted..."
        The entire assembly was nodding at each description,
occasionally adding expletives of their own.
        "I want to make it up to you, Terin.  I want everyone to
know that Terin here is Chivalry and Honor defined.  Here is a man
who holds no ill will toward anyone, even toward one who almost ruined
his life. He is a brave fighter, as well as the possessor of an
impeccable set of morals, and a fine, strong character."
        At that point, he smiled down at Tremerus.  "And this, his
son Tremerus...he is a fine, fine boy, who will follow in the
tradition of his father and mother.  Today...I'd like to accept
Tremerus into Camelot as a page.  He will learn the ways of the
Knights of old and make Camelot proud!"
        Thunderous applause broke out, as well-wishers slapped a
stunned Terin on the back.  Still ever leery of Maelstorm, Terin
frowned.
        "Why are you doing this?" he asked. 
        Maelstorm bent down, gathered the young Tremerus into his
arms, and smiled.  "Because...because you're alive!  And I'm alive!
And the best thing of all is...it's Christmas!  A time for change.
A time for blessings."  He hugged Tremerus tightly, and the boy
*Press return for more or q to end. >
squirmed.  "Isn't that right, Page?"
        Tremerus nodded slightly, and piped "God bless the Knights,
every one!"
        A thought occured to Maelstorm.  He leaned toward the young
boy and whispered "Do you have a copy of the script, too?"
        The entire room was a cacophony of fluttering pages as every
knight pulled a thin booklet from his or her pocket.  "We all do!"
        Maelstorm frowned in confusion, then shrugged.  He lowered
Tremerus to the floor, then climbed back onto the table.  "Christmas
dinner at the pub tonight, on me!  Bring your families, bring your
goodwill...most of all, bring the Spirit of Christmas with you!"
 
        In the pub, a roaring fire was burning, fueled with countless
copies of 'Maelstorm's Book of Mostly Pointless Knight Rules'.
        It was a merry Christmas indeed.

[Polar]

---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 15   --
 
 The Supreme Oracle of Cthulhu who Cthole Cthristmas
 
                By:  Mari Seuss
 
 
 
 All the Nanny-Ites
 Down in Nanny,
 liked Christmas a bunch...
 
 But Lovecraft, he'd rather eat Santa for lunch!
 Lovecraft hated Christmas!  Each toy and each tree!
 Lovecraft hated you, and he most certainly hated me.
 
 No one knew the reason that Lovecraft quite loathed,
 All the carols and gifts and the love and the snow,
 It could be his tights were entirely too tight,
 Or he'd never been keen on those holiday lights,
 Could be that Santa'd never read his wish-list...
 Or maybe Lovecraft's heart just didn't exist!
 
 But,
 Whatever the reason,
 the tights or the lights,
 He stood there on Christmas Eve, hating the 'Ites.
 He looked down on Nanny from there in his cave,
 Imagining each Nanny-Ite deep in their grave.
 For he knew that each 'Ite, in a home down below,
 was busily kissing beneath mistletoe!
 
 "They're hanging their stockings!" he moaned, and he bitched,
 "And those damn Christmas carols are making me sick!"
 Then he growled, his fingers drummed loud on his knee,
 "The one to stop Christmas will have to be me!"
 For tomorrow he knew...
 
 ...All the mortals and wizzes,
 would wake from their sleep,
 they'd jump from their beds. They'd dash for the tree!
 And then! Oh, the songs! Oh, the songs! Songs! Songs! Songs!
 They'd play on their lyres! They'd beat on their bongs!
 The 'Ites, young and old, would sit down together,
 and celebrate love!  And the nice, wintry weather!
 
 Then each Nanny-Ite, Cthulhu forbid,
 Would eat rare delicacies,
 like lobster, and squid!
 They'd pass around pudding, and stuffing, and stew
 They'd EAT! EAT! EAT! EAT! til their faces turned blue!
 
 And THEN
 They'd do something
 Lovecraft really hated,
 They'd drink saki 'til even the worse lush was sated!
 They'd DRINK! DRINK! DRINK! DRINK! DRINK! themselves silly!
 And be really merry.  And be REALLY cheery.
 They'd...
 
 Lovecraft took a deep breath.
 Pulled himself under control.
 "Time to get this Christmas theft on a roll!"
 But how would he do it?  He paced and he pondered,
 and just when he thought all his wonders had wandered...
 
 He got an idea!

 A terribly awful idea!
 THE SUPREME ORACLE OF CTHULHU
 GOT A WONDERFULLY WICKED IDEA!
 
 It hit him!  The perfect way he could get in,
 to each Nanny-Ite's home...he'd dress up like St. Dwin!
 He put on some red rubber, with moosehair for trim,
 and a cap of red leather, a snap on the brim.
 
 "How evil!" he crowed!  "What a sin among sins!
 And all I need now are eight tiny penguins!"
 Where would he find them?
 Lovecraft looked around.
 But since Dwin had them all, there were none to be found.
 Did that stop old Lovecraft?  He grinned evilly.
 "If I can't find a penguin, I'll use my pet flea!"
 So he called for his flea (affectionately named Brom),
 And he found a tiny horn, and he tied the horn on.
 
 THEN
 He loaded some sacks,
 and some bags, all empty,

 then he found an old sleigh,
 and he harnessed his flea.
 
 With a crack of his whip,
 Lovecraft shouted, "On, Brom!",
 And he cackled with glee,
 As the sleigh inched along.
 
 All of Lar's town was sleeping; it was quiet and dark.
 He stood on the green, and he spotted his mark.
 He saw a small house, "This is stop number one!"
 He climbed up to the roof, "Now it's time to have fun!"
 
 He squeezed down the chimney, a sack in his fist,
 And delightfully thought, "Boy, they're going to be pissed!"
 He climbed from the fireplace, soot on his back,
 and he stuffed every stocking deep into his sack,
 Next came the toys; all the gifts he could find!
 He stole presents of every size, shape and kind.
 
 Then he went to the kitchen, and spotted the food,
 Once he took all their pudding, those 'Ites would be stewed!
.
 He cleaned out the icebox, he chortled with glee,
 as he stuffed all the stuff up the tiny chimney!
 
 Next went the tree, to prove he wasn't bluffing,
 This St. Dwin would give every Nanny-Ite...Nothing!
 As he pushed on the tree, Lovecraft heard a slight sound,
 his eyes widened in fright as he spun, spun around...
 
 And there, with her dolly, just holding it tight,
 Was a young, tiny child -- little Star Nanny-Ite!
 "St. Dwin!" she cried softly, "You're taking our tree!
 How could you do it, St. Dwin...tell me, please?"
 
 But Lovecraft was smart, so he made up a lie,
 "If I don't take this tree to my home, it will die!
 I've some Christmas-tree medicine deep in my sack,
 I'll just take the tree home, cure it...then bring it back!"
 
 And poor Star, the dear, dumb child, fell for it.
 Smiled, and went back to bed.
 And Lovecraft stuffed all but a crumb in his sled.
 
.
 Then he thought to himself, "Hey, I'm being too nice!"
 So he took the crumb too, to deprive the poor mice.
 
 Then
 He did the same thing
 To the rest of the 'Ites,
 not leaving a crumb,
 not one single bite.
 
 Soon morning was breaking,
 and Lovecraft went home,
 with each last toy and present,
 each scrap, and each bone.
 
 "They'll be so sad!" he thought, "They'll be sad when they wake,
 "And they'll cry and they'll sob and they'll tremble and shake!"
 That's a sound that the evil old Oracle wanted to hear.
 So he waited.  Lovecraft put a hand to his ear.
 And soon, he heard a sound rising up loudly,
 As each Nanny-Ite began...
 
 Singing!  They were singing quite proudly!
.
 
 Lovecraft was aghast!  Even without their toys,
 they were still making that
 awfully,
 terribly,
 MERRY, HAPPY noise!
 
 He hadn't stopped Christmas!  Somehow it came!
 Without gifts, without trees,
 it had come, all the same!
 
 And Lovecraft, with confusion bright in his eyes,
 stood pondering and wondering, still shocked and surprised.
 "How can they be happy?  How can they be merry?
 I took every turkey, took every cranberry!
 But Christmas came anyway!"
 
 ...Finally, it hit him!  He thought, still amazed,
 "Maybe Christmas means more than a turkey, fresh glazed...
 Maybe Christmas," he thought, "Doesn't come from a store...
 Maybe, just maybe...they consider it more!"
 
.
 And what happened then?
 Well, in Nanny, they say...
 
 ...That those toys have never been found to this day!
 According to rumor, and maybe it's true,
 Lovecraft at all the food, til HIS face turned blue!
 
 And they say there his sits, high above in his cave,
 still imaginging each Nanny-Ite deep in their grave,
 Lovecraft still hates Christmas.  And you.  And me.
 He still hates each toy.  He still hates each tree.
 
 They say, and no doubt what they're saying is true,
 That Lovecraft is planning...
 
 ...to steal next Christmas too!
 
 
>
> read page 16
You read page 16 in your newspaper.

---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 16   --
 
                Knight Songs for the Holiday Season
 
 
 Here are a few of your favorite carols to be shared with friends and
 loved ones around a warm fire this Christmas.
 
 (Sung to the tune of 'Jingle Bells')
 
 Dashing o'er the plains
 in a one-knight killing spree
 Dragons blowing flames
 and zombies after me
 Vikings storm the coast
 at alarming rates
 If we don't hurry, we're all toast
 'Cause Mordred's at the gates, oh
 
 Hacking here, slashing there
 fighting every day
 hope my valour rises
 with each demon that I slay
.
 Hey!
 Xhruel here, Mordred there
 fighting all the way
 what fun it is to parry and thrust
 and keep the ghouls at bay!
 
 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 
 Someone Gave the Daemon Coins Again
 (Sung to the tune of 'Winter Wonderland')
 
 Ring-a-ling
 The daemon's missin'
 Didn't need
 Guild Head permission
 he's down at the pub
 with drink and with grub
 Someone gave the daemon coins again.
 
 At the bar
 he's a-boozin'
 if we're attacked
.
 then we're a-losin'
 Can't store or withdraw
 'til he's spent it all
 Someone gave the daemon coins again.
 
 I've been waiting over twenty minutes
 To store all of my gear and hit the road
 But the daemon is nowhere near finished
 Looks as though he's hit the motherlode
 
 Where's a Guild
 Head when you need 'em?
 beer, beer, beer...
 ad infinitum
 He'll never be done
 He's had too much fun
 Someone gave the daemon coins again!
 
 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 
 'Twas the night before X-mas
 (Nanny Style)
.
 
 
 'Twas the night before X-mas and all through the MUD,
 not a mortal was stirring; not wizard, nor God,
 The packs were all lying around on the green,
 With jolly St. Dwinbar nowhere to be seen.
 
 The knights were all drunk or asleep in their beds,
 while visions of Damsels danced in their, er, heads,
 And I'm the shareroom, just storing my gear,
 and thinking that it's been one hell of a year...
 
 When out from the plains came a noise that did scare me,
 I instinctively reached for my Sword of Infinity,
 
 Out through the gates I flew like a dart,
 tripped over my cloak as I fell with a start;
 
 Since I'd bumped my head when I fell in the snow,
 My vision was blurry, I saw a strange glow,
 What do I see then, as on the ground I lay?
 But eight tiny penguins, pulling a sleigh!
.
 
 With a blonde, blue-eyed driver, no beard on his chin,
 I knew in a moment it must be St. Dwin,
 More rapid than moor-storks, his penguins they came,
 and he 'woo-ha'ed and wobbled and called them by name;
 
 "Now, Flipper!  Now, Moosey!  Now, Oprah and Banshee!
 On, Percy!  On, Thumper, Pussgurka and Lucy!
 Up to the battlements, up to the wall
 now flap away!  Flap away!  Flap away all!"
 
 As evil PKers -Defenders in sight-
 shiver and cower, turn tail and take flight,
 So up to the towers, the penguins they flapped,
 With Dwin in the sleigh, and a sack on his lap.
 
 And then, I heard voices, so loud and so clear
 as Gwalchmai exclaimed "Get those birds out of here!"
 As I climbed to my feet, and was going back in,
 I heard a slight flap, down the stairs came St. Dwin.
 
 He was dressed all in rubber, with moosehair for trim,
.
 and his hat was red leather, a snap on the brim,
 one hand at his waist, and his other wrist limp,
 He looked like a condom-slash-moose-slash-gay pimp
 
 He was lean and well-formed, I could see through the suit
 And I thought to myself "Hey, this guy's kinda cute."
 A wink of his eye, a conspicuous swell,
 Made me reach for my sword, I was nervous as hell;
 
 He said not one word, but instead dropped the sack,
 and I flinched as I heard something inside it crack,
 With a shrug and a grin, he vanished from sight,
 but I heard a loud 'MooOOOooo' that shattered the night;
 
 I ran out again; he was back in the sleigh,
 And he and his penguins were flying away,
 But I heard him exclaim, ere they flapped out of sight,
 "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good Knight."
 
 
 -thanks to Marbleleaf and Kaspel for helping with this one-
 
.
 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 
 We Wish you Happy MUDding
 We Wish you Happy MUDding
 We Wish you Happy MUDding
 in the upcoming year
 
 Good questing to you,
 We hope that you wiz,
 We wish you Happy MUDding
 in the upcoming year!
 
 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 
>
> read page 17
You read page 17 in your newspaper.

[Polar]

---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 17   --
 
                        The White Stallion:
       
                    A Christmas Knight's Story 
       
                          by:  Elysia
                       
       
        In his cluttered workroom, high above Nanny, he pushed a
button.
        As the sun rose, trembling shadows were cast from the
spiralling towers across the snow-covered plains.  Only one pair of
discerning eyes witnessed the beauty of the gleaming morning sun
upon the stark grey castle, and his eyes were disinterested in the
beauty; he merely made sure that the fiery orb rose in such a way
every day.
        Somewhere off in the distance, a cock crowed a morning
greeting as a wolf cried one last time in sad goodbye to the night
and the moon.   
        And then, silence.  A deep, waiting, tangible quiet.  That
quiet spread over the plains and through the very center of the
massive stone fortress.  It enveloped the surrounding woods; every
.
pine needle on every tree lie still as if in anticipation.
        In a secluded place in the T'aalan forest, the air began
shimmering and wavering, creating an unstable rift gate.  One
silver hoof stepped through, then a snowy, pristine foreleg.  Two
moments later, a translucent being shook its silvery mane with
graceful abandon.  It reared in expressive joy, stretching its
wings at each side.  The rift gate collapsed and faded away...and
in a blink, the creature disappeared.
        It reappeared just outside of the large church, in the
center of Larstown, much to the surprise and delight of the fifteen
plus on-lookers.  The season of the white stallion was upon them.
       
       
        "Kneel," Lillstrumpa was saying.  The tremulous girl knelt
before him, lowering her head.  Slowly, he pulled his blade from
the scabard, and gently placed it on her left shoulder.  He began
incanting the ancient vow of the Knights, as he lifted the sword
over her head, and tapped ther shoulder lightly.  As his sword
touched her silvery crop of hair, he smiled.
        "Rise...and join the ranks of the Knights!" he exclaimed. 
The assembled gave a loud "Hurrah!"  He offered his hand and pulled
her to her feet, hugging her warmly.  Raising a hand to silence the
.
room, he extended his arms toward the ceiling and mumbled a few
words.  In a flash of emerald light, a small medallion appeared,
which he placed over her head ceremoniously.  As she reached down
to inspect it, it flickered and disappeared.  "From this moment
on," he proclaimed, "You shall be known as Lady Xeren!"
        Once again, the Knights gave a rousing, heart-felt cheer. 
"Welcome!" they cried.  "Hurrah, Lady Xeren!"
        Xeren brushed a hand across her cheek, wiping away a tear. 
"T-thank you," she stammered, emotionally shaken.  "I'm...I'm
honored to be here," she smiled, curtseying before Lillstrumpa.
        "It's good to have you here," Erani stepped forward and gave
the girl a warm hug.  "You are my sister," she decreed.  "May our
paths always cross, as we slay evil together."
        A reverent quiet filled the room as one by one, each
murmuring words of welcome and brotherhood, the gathered knights
clasped hands with and hugged the newest member of the Chivalry. 
        Seated at a large oaken desk was Arthur, his keen eyes
glistening with beaded tears.  Xeren broke from the cluster of
Knights, and gave a curtsey before him.  "Welcome, daughter," he
smiled.  "Thank you...father," she gave a bright smile as well. 
        Arthur cleared his throat, blinking back the tears.  "Well,"
he said gruffly, "Time to get back to work!" he reached into the
.
desk, pulling out a fresh sheet of papyrus.  He dipped his quillpen
into a small inkpot, and in a neat, flowing script, he inscribed
across the top of the sheet "Xeren".  Lillstrumpa took his place at
her side, speaking to her in low tones, telling her of the many
different responsibilities and benifits of being a Knightess. 
        The assembled began wandering off in groups, chatting
pleasantly among themselves.  Another day had begun in Camelot.
 
 
        Mounted on a roan mare, the pearly amber-cloaked knightess
gave a slight tug on the reins.  The mare began galloping as they
neared the end of the forest trail and entered a wide clearing. 
Before them, resting on a boundless plain, was Camelot.  The stones
gleamed in the sunlight, and every ray illuminated the brightly
colored banners that streamed from the outer walls.  Standing upon
each crenelated tower, the knightess could see the flash of a
colored cloak, as the guards paced and kept watch.  In tiny voices,
she heard them call her name.
        "Ho there!" they cried in greeting.  "'Tis Ely!"
        "Ho there!" she cried in return, her lilting voice barely
reaching the battlements.  She raised a fist, holding Melody in
check with her free hand.  A mischievious idea blooming in her
.
mind, she stood in her stirrups, and gave a tug on the leather
harness reins.
        "Circle, Melody," she murmured, tapping her flank lightly
with one golden spur.  Melody recognized the familiar command, and
began prancing prettily in a circle once they were outside of the
gates.  She whinnied, and soon inquisitive knights began
investigating. 
        "What's going on?"
        "Ely...showing off again," came a stage whisper.
        Elysia gave an impish grin as she sat back down. 
"Centerstage, Melody," she murmured.  The mare reared into the air
and gave a slight half turn before she fell to the earth again. 
When her hooves touched ground, Elysia had already gotten to her
knees, balancing precariously on the saddle. 
        More knights began dashing from the shadowed main hall,
halting and regarding Elysia with curiosity and fear.
        "She'll slip on a patch of ice and kill herself," someone
murmured.
        "Nah, she's can't die," came a reply.  "I hear Merlin cast
some sort of spell on her or something."
        "No...you're kidding!"  There was a gasp.
        "No, all RTs are immortal...didn't you know that?"
.
        Elysia had gotten to her feet in the saddle, and holding the
reins in one hand, struck a pose as her mount continued cantering
in a circle.
        Erani wandered outside, pushing her way gently through the
crowd.  "What the...?" As she burst into a clearing, she blinked at
the sight before her.  The amber-clad knightess was standing with
one foot in the saddle, her other leg extended behind her
gracefully.  "Ho, Melody!" she cried, and the mare sped up,
beginning to gallop as Elysia clutched the reins and fell into the
saddle.  "Slowly Melody," she commanded, and the mare came to a
slow stop.
        Erani rolled her eyes to the sky.  "Ely, you foolish
girl..." she grinned.  "Who are you trying to impress now?"
        Elysia bounced out of the saddle, landing on the ground at
Melody's side.  A page ran up and took the reins, giving her a warm
smile.  "Thanks," she patted her beloved mount once more, then
strode toward Erani.  Together, they headed in the direction of the
gates, the identical grails at their sides flashing in brief
recognition. 
        "The state of things?" Elysia inquired.  Erani cast a glance
in her direction.  "There was a skirmish at the southern border
about an hour ago," she replied.  "You missed it.  It was
.
fantastic."
        "At the southern border?" Elysia frowned.  "Mordred usually
opens a portal somewhere in the northeast or western plains. 
Merlin was saying that the fields there are weak..."
        "It wasn't Mordred," Erani chuckled. 
        "Demons?" Elysia pondered curiously.  "Their dimension finds
a portal easiest to open somewhere in the upper-northwestern plains
area..."
        "Vikings," Erani interrupted solemnly.
        Elysia's eyes widened.  "Vikings?!"
        "Now, not only do we have to contend with demons, zombies,
orcs, dragons and rocs..." she counted them off on her fingers,
"We've somehow made an enemy of the Vikings south of here."
        The blonde-haired knightess smirked as they wandered up the
spiral staircase to the second floor.  "Our guildheads sure do know
how to make friends...they've been so peaceful until now.  I wonder
what prompted them to attack?"
        "I think Maelstorm was getting bored.  I hear he poofed into
the chambers of the clan chief and slapped him hard across the
face.  Then, he challenged him, saying 'My warriors can beat yours
anyday' or something like that."
        Elysia stared at Erani amazedly.  "You can't be serious."
.
        "That's what I've heard," Erani stopped outside of the
chambers, glancing up.  The mithril grail above the doorway flashed
teal and amber, and together they walked into the office of the
Round Table Knights.
        Regarding the cluttered posting board with horror, Elysia
gasped.  "I've not been here for two days...and already, there's
forty new notes?  What do you people do all day?"
        Erani laughed.  "You should go to the public board in
Larstown."
        Elysia shook her head.  "No thank you.  I can imagine what I
would find there.  Sheesh."
        There came a sudden "Yah!" from behind them.  Hand on her
blade, Elysia turned quickly.  Erani spun around and dived over the
nearest chair, rolling into a kneeling position.  Then she blinked.
        "Eddy," she moaned loudly.
        "In the flesh," he grinned evilly.  "Got to keep you lazy
knightesses on your toes."
        "Lazy!" Elysia exclaimed.  "I am not lazy," she said
plainly.  "If I were lazy," Erani stood, brushing the dust from her
pants, "I would not look like this."  She gestured toward her trim
figure. 
        Elysia glanced down at her somewhat fuller shape. 
.
"Allright...I guess that I -am- lazy," she acceeded, chuckling
good-naturedly.
        "I wouldn't have you any other way," came a voice from
behind, placing a kiss on her neck.  She spun around.  "Bowen!" she
exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck.  "My goodness, when
did you get here...?"
        Marbleleaf entered the room, and cast a caustic glance at
the hugging couple.  "Stealing my wife from beneath my nose, eh?"
he raised a brow.  Elysia gasped, and stepped back.  "Marble..."
she coughed, "It's not how it looks..."
        Bowen gave an impish grin, and wrapped his arm around her
waist.  He made a smooching gesture in her direction.  "Eek!" she
gasped, swatting at him.  "Trying to ruin my marriage?" she bopped
him on the head humorously.  Alexander bounded in.  "Am I late?"
        Elysia frowned.  "Am I missing something?" she wondered
curiously.
        Mistress twirled through the door.  "Hello!" she exclaimed
brightly, her arms full of little foil-wrapped packages.  "Merry
Christmas!" she cried, dropping the boxes into the nearest chair. 
She ruffled through them, and pulled out a gift covered with
crinkly black paper.  "This..." she held it out toward Marbleleaf,
"Is for you."
.
        "Thanks," he nodded solemnly.  He began unwrapping it. 
Inside, lying on a black silk cushion was a long, linked chain of
silver.  In the center was an amazingly accurate fascimile of a
dragon with wings in flight, his claws grasping a faintly glowing
crystal.  "Thank you," he reiterated, placing it around his neck
with a slight smile.
        Elysia stood on her toes, peering over Marbleleaf's
shoulder.  Mistress grasped a blue-speckled package.  "This is
yours," she tossed the box to Eddy, who caught it with one hand. 
"I'll open it later," he grinned at her.  She shrugged.
        She presented a muted grey package to Bowen.  "For you."  He
slowly and carefully removed the wrapping paper, making sure not to
tear it.  He folded the small piece of paper into a tiny square,
and proceeded to open the box flaps.  "Oh, open it already, or I'll
do it for you!" Elysia exclaimed impatiently.
        "This," she found a red-and-orange striped package in the
pile, "Is for you, April."  April dug into the wrapping with
fervor.  Within the box was a tiny figurine of a unicorn, it's
delicate porcelain horn a translucent gold.  Elysia went "Ooh." 
April smiled widely.

[Polar]

        "This is the last one," she breathed.  "I've never been able
to find it..." she carefully placed it back into the box, covering
.
it with the padding.  She gave Mistress a tight hug.  "My
collection is complete," she breathed.  "I love you."
        Mistress grinned cutely.  "Everyone does," she chuckled. 
Stretching toward the ceiling, a mischievious look appeared in her
eyes.  "Well," she said, "Looks like I'd better see about giving
out the rest of these..." she waved, and began gathering the gifts
into her arms again.  Elysia made a small noise.  Pretending not to
hear her, the attractive blonde continued collecting the gifts.
        Elysia coughed.  Then cleared her throat.  Finally, she
burst out "What about me?"  The room erupted into giggles, and she
began blushing deeply. 
        Mistress dumped the gifts once more onto the leather lounge
chair, and reached beneath her cloak.  When her hand entered the
light again, she was holding a long, triangular-shaped packet
covered in a light amber wrap with little golden stars dotted over
it.  She handed it to Elysia slowly.  "Hope you like," she smiled
warmly at her.
        She accepted the package with reverence.  "You didn't..."
she began, glancing up at Mistress.  Mistress nodded happily. 
"Oh!" she cried, tearing the paper from the small package and
throwing it about the room enthusiastically.  "Oh..."
        Pulling the ivory handle from an intricately worked leather
.
sheath, across which was burned in beautiful calligraphy 'Elysia',
she gave a gasp.  The blade was curved and rippled.  "Folded over
five-hundred times," Mistress grinned. 
        "It's a Zylmin!" she breathed, turning it over in her hands. 
"It's a duplicate of 'Ferrin's dagger'," she rhapsodized.  "When
Ferrin crossed the Olin River, this dagger was clenched between his
teeth...it was the dagger with which he killed the King of the
Mandilones, in effect liberating all of Olindale."  Elysia choked
back a small sob.  She turned to Mistress, and walked slowly to
her, giving her a heart-felt hug.  "You're...you're awesome.  This
means so much to me, Mistress...I..."
        "That's quite okay," the older knightess told her,
remembering the day that she'd welcomed Elysia into Camelot, a
young girl full of zeal and chivalry.  The day that she became a
member of the Round Table, Mistress had stood before Arthur in his
chambers.  "She certainly is enthusiastic," Mistress murmured,
kneeling before him.  He placed a fatherly hand on her shoulder. 
"A knightess to follow in your footsteps, daughter," he'd breathed.
        And now, seeing the warm expression on her face as she held
the dagger in her hands, Mistress was filled with affection for the
girl.  She cleared her throat, pushing down the lump that had
sprung up.  "Well," she asserted, gathering the gifts up once
.
again.  "I'm playing Saint Nicholas this year," she winked merrily,
giving a wave.  With that, she was gone.
        Elysia lovingly sheathed the dagger, then kneeled.  She
lifted a pants-leg, binding it to her calf with the harness-like
straps attached to it.  When she stood, the thin khaki material
fell, covering it without a conspicuous bulge.  "It feels perfect."
        "Well," April held the package gingerly.  "I'd better get
this home and into my menagerie before I break it!"  Bowen offered
to walk with her.  Eddy and Alexander ambled off, leaving Elysia
and Marbleleaf in the chambers; Elysia turning her leg this way and
that, and Marbleleaf admiring the view.  "Love," he began, then
jumped slightly at the pounding on the outer door.  Elysia frowned
as Marbleleaf walked to the door and opened it. 
        Standing in the outer hall was a young garbage girl, her
curly hair wild around her face as if she'd been running.  "Elysia!,"
the girl gasped, "Mi'lady Lys wants a word with you!"
 
        *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *
 
        Tiamo stood with her back to the wind as the sleek ship
pulled into port.  "South Coast!" the captain shouted, and she
disembarked, her feet crunching through the crust-covered snow on
.
the docks.  Her appaloosa was being led down a ramp, and a grizzled
crew member handed her the reins, his voice gravelly as he wished
her a pleasant day.  She patted Queen Dora affectionately on one
flank, then mounted and began cantering southwards towards Camelot. 
She smiled at the passers-by, and just as she was thinking how much
she adored this time of year, a large snowdrift that had gathered
on an overhead tree fell in a heap atop her curly head.  Dora came
to a stop as she sputtered, wiping the snow from her eyes. 
        When she opened them, the road before her was completely
empty...except for the singular most splendid creature she'd ever
seen. With a coat that shone brighter than any star, and delicate
silver hooves, Cthanos reared before Queen Dora, his wings
outstretched toward the sky.  The spotted mount folded one foreleg
against the ground and genuflected, catching Tiamo off-guard and
toppling her to the road.  She rolled to her feet and stood, a few
inches from the snowy muzzle of the beautiful pegasus.  He snorted,
and his warm breath ruffled her hair. 
        "Cthanos," she whispered, her fingers itching to tangle in
his silken mane.  *The count of three* she thought *and I'll grab
him*
        Which seemed like the smart thing to do.  Tiamo was a quick
and superbly dexterous knightess.  The one thing she didn't count
.
on, however, was hearing a thickly accented "Yes, Lady Tiamo of
Camelot?" 
        She blinked and frowned, eyebrows raising in stark surprise. 
"You can talk," she whispered disbelievingly.
        The winged creature before her winked, then disappeared.
        The Knightess chuckled.  "I've bumped my head, is all," she
muttered, then spun around, only to see Cthanos standing beside
Queen Dora.  He brushed his snowy muzzle against her cinammon one,
and when he removed it, there remained a translucent white patch,
which shimmered through the spectrum.  Tiamo stood with eyes wide
as the white stallion took to the sky, his wings beating
powerfully.  Then he vanished.
        Tiamo turned to Dora, who knickered familiarly.  Reaching
out one slender hand, she ran her fingers over the almost pearly
patch, then cupped her hand as she felt something materialize in
her grasp. 
        With slight trepidation, she loosened her grip.  Lying
there, in her palm, was a perfectly formed pearl.  With a gasp, she
reached out again to stroke the shimmering patch on her mare's
muzzle.  This time, an emerald appeared in her hand. 
        "My god," she breathed.  "Wait until they hear about this."
 
.
        *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *
 
        "The white stallion," Lys murmured, rising from her seat.
She crossed her arms behind her back and began pacing.  "Cthanos." 
Stopping, she turned her head slightly, glancing through the wide-
open window.  "Cthanos..." she murmured, closing her eyes.  It was
in such a state of contemplation that Elysia found the older
Knightess.  Hesitantly, she cleared her throat.  "You wanted me?"
        Lys took a seat as Elysia threw herself into the nearest
lounge chair, crossing her legs beneath her.
        "Ely...it's happened."
        Elysia frowned for a moment.  "What's happened?"
        "Cthanos."  That one word was enough to make Elysia sit up,
nearly falling out of the chair in the process.
        "The white stallion!" she burst out.  "When?  Where?  For
the love of Mats, I need to get ready!" She leaped from her seat,
heading for the door. 
        "Elysia," Lys' voice was placid defined.  "Have you ever
actually heard of someone catching Cthanos?"
        In mid-stride, Elysia turned around and tilted her head
curiously at her friend.  "Well...I've heard that only a very few
have...the last person to catch him was some woman, about a decade
.
or so ago.  Of course, that's never stopped people from chasing
him.  Besides, half the fun is in trying."  The younger knightess
took a few tentative steps toward Lys, placing her hands on her
hips.  "Alright, what's wrong?"
        Lys shrugged.  "I just don't see the point in chasing some
mythical creature," she said too nonchalantly, averting her eyes. 
"It doesn't make sense.  That's why I called for you."
        Elysia's eyes narrowed.  "Just why *did* you call for me,
Lys?"
        She was silent for a moment, then plunged ahead. 
        "I don't want you to join the hunt." She said simply.
        The petite, blonde-haired knightess before Lys was an almost
comic vision.  Her eyes were wide, and her jaw hung open in
disbelief.  "Whyever not?!" she gasped.  "I've been waiting for
this chance forever, Lys!  Cthanos," she rhapsodized.  "The bearer
of wishes and good fortune.  Whomever captures him gets a wish. 
Whatever their heart may desire."
        Lys sighed, her eyes filled with some deep sorrow.  "Please,
Ely...I only tell you this because...you're my friend.  You remind
me so much of myself..." She stopped as Elysia gave her a tight hug
and an impish grin.
        "Don't worry about me, love!  I can handle myself, really...
.
and now, I have to go.  I think I hear the hunt preparing." 
At that very moment, a horn blasted from somewhere outside. 
"My cue!"  And with a jaunty wave, Elysia was off.
        Just as the younger knightess's name was on Lys' lips, a
searing pain ripped through her head.  *Don't*
        "I didn't plan on it," she snapped to an empty room.  Lys
closed her eyes again, a single tear escaping.  "Not another.  No
more, no more."  She clutched both hands to her head as the
paralyzing pain brought her to her knees.
        *You're not in a position to do much about it*
        "We'll see.  You want her, you'll have to go through me."
        But his presence was gone, leaving Lys drained, her head
throbbing dully.  She climbed to her feet, shaken. 
        And cursed the day she'd ever heard about the white stallion.
 
        *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *
 

[Polar]

---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 18   --
 
 
 Spinach Dip
 
 1 c. sour cream
 1 c. mayo
 1 pkg. Knorr Vegetable soup mix
 3 to 5 green onions chopped (to taste)
 1/2 c. water chestnuts      (chopped fine or chunky)
                             (add more to taste if you wish)
 1 pkg. chopped frozen spinach (thawed and squeezed dry)
 
 Mix all ingreadients. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours to allow flavors
 to mix well and soup mix vegetables to reconstitute. Serve with your
 favorite crackers or snack toast. If Knorr is not available in your
 area try a comparable brand of dried soup mix or experiment with small
 amounts of vegetables and seasonings to replace mix and add flavor.
 I would suggest trying combinations of seasoning salt, celery salt, dried
 parsley, cilantro, dried celery flakes, or onion flakes or powder as
 seasoning.
 
 Combinations of rosted red sweet peppers, sun-dried tomatoes, and or
.
 finely chopped sweet onion as vegetables should work too. Try what
 appeals to you according to your taste and what you have on hand, but
 keep to small amounts untill you are sure of what will work for you.
 (You can use light sour cream and mayo but it does alter the taste ofc.)
 
 
 Heavenly Hash
 
 Ok, this is one of those recipes that you just throw together as
 you like it. Everyone I know makes this dessert in one form or another
 but no one uses a proper recipe. You'll just have to experiment and
 adjust ingredients until you get it the way you want it.
 
 1 lg. or 2 sm. tubs whipped topping
 1 can crushed pineapple       (well drained)
 1/2 cup chopped walnuts       (more or less as desired)
 1 sm. jar marischino cherries (drained and cut in half)
                               (use more or less if you like)
 1 c. miniature marshmallows   (adjust to taste, more and the salad)
                               (will be drier, less and it)
                               (will be moister)
 1/2 c. flaked coconut         (optional)
.
 
 
 Fold together and chill before serving. Save some of the cherries
 to decorate the top if desired.
 
> [Explorers] Yberiel's exploration of NannyMUD continues.
[Treasure] Alvis: Yberiel the Wanter of Shiny Things arrives to search for
                  treasure in NannyMUD.

> read page 19
You read page 19 in your newspaper.

---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 19   --
         
         
         If you could receive anything from the admin this
         Christmas, what would you get?
 
Belly replies to you: just takes about 130 herbs for the first kill.
Backstab replies to you: this fucking sword for an autoloader!
Belly replies to you: ack... sorry, wrong reply...
Myrkul replies to you: approximately 943 qp
Cocain tells you: a rocking weap
Belly replies to you: hmm... i dunno... about 1M xp?
Winnowill replies to you: My sanity back???
Sticker replies to you: like 200 qp
Morq replies to you: hmmm, a promotion for my wiz or 200qp for this char
Simba replies to you: anything?..... socks for my ears. they get so cold at
      dinner
Nina tells you: a dog (you wanna give me one?)
Rowdy replies to you: Another year of Nanny
Myrkul replies to you: and a wiz who checked for an attack before spamming
       knights
Pearl tells you: err... umm... full bites?
Rcrunner tells you: are yout talking to me
.
(Hunter) Salin tells you: shrug, no clue. mebbe a few quest points.
Brujah replies to you: A nice holiday title. I miss the old title things, and
       perhaps they should just slip the rules, just that ONE night....not
       like it'd hurt too much law and order.
Agbane replies to you: a siteban
Sax replies to you: a real life?
Belegur tells you: Just the usual, Good Will and Peace on Earth.  Is that too
        much to ask?
Sticker replies to you: or returning on tower of games
Cruel tells you: The biggest, meanest weapon one could think of.
Cruel tells you: And qp, ofc.
Simba replies to you: and maybe he answer to this puzzle im working on
Khadgar replies to you: an invitation to visit them at liu, for a cup tea and a
        card game.
Simba replies to you:
Bombadill tells you: I don't know. How about you
Pearl tells you: or do you mean an item?
Rowdy replies to you: It's a pain in the rear to be an admin- no need to add
        to it by being selfish ,)
Deveral tells you: Praise the almighty Lars, for he is our savior!
Backstab shouts: 90 or so til bonus
Morq replies to you: but anything would be good
.
Life tells you: for Belly to make his next Paragon Level, For khadgar to
     remain the largest kitten and for everyone to have a merry christman.
     Merry Christman Shin
Melee replies to you: My own herbgarden
Korr tells you: <after thought> Better booklets in the tourist bureau. Some
     of them tell you nothing about the area and how to find it is often so
     vague you can't
(Hunter) Huntingjoe tells you: a patch that would make win98 usable
(Hunter) Annie tells you: More Guilds.
Santa tells you: Make Dwinbar give me my clothes back! It's cold, and
      Donner and Blitzen are getting friendly!

[Polar]

---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 20   --
 
 Here are 20 questions for you to puzzle over. But beware, for
 at least half of them have a rather nasty little sting in the
 tail, and we're not telling you which ones they are.
 
(1) What is the name of the airport in La Paz?
 
(2) Which Shakespeare character speaks the most lines?
 
(3) What were Albert Einstein's last words?
 
(4) Who was the first man to win consecutive Best Actor Oscars?
 
(5) And the first woman to win consecutive Best Actress Oscars?
 
(6) Who, in 1654, published the first account of rocket travel to the moon?
 
(7) In what country was world champion racing driver Keke Rosberg born?
 
( How did the following people die?
  (a) the first Marlboro man
  (b) Matthew Webb, first man to swim the English channel
.
  (c) David Livingstone, explorer of Africa
 
(9) Which Swedish novelist and playwright was born in the village of
    Hjöggbolein 1934?
 
(10) Where were the first Olympics of the 20th century held?
 
(11) Approximately what percentage of people have an above average number of
     legs?
 
(12) Whose last words were the following?
  (a) "It's not f***ing Hamlet".
  (b) "I love my country more than my soul".
  (c) "I shall hear in Heaven".
  (d) "What an artist the world is losing in me".
 
(13) Who was the youngest US president?
 
(14) Whose autobiographies were?
  (a) "Take It Like A Man"
  (b) "Against the Grain"
 
.
(15) What was the national anthem of Biafra?
 
(16) What names are the following famous people better known as?
  (a) Frederick Bulsara
  (b) Saloth Sar
  (c) Leslie King
  (d) John Cheese
  (e) Lev Davidovich Bronstein
 
(17) What's the most common first name in the world?
 
(18) How many leap years were there in the 18th Century?
 
(19) How long did the following wars last?
  (a) The Six Day War
  (b) The Seven Years War
  (c) The Hundred Years War
 
(20) How, in the 19th century, did Sweden's Franz Berwald achieve fame?
 
 
 Submit answers to Lonewolf; the person with the most correct will receive
.
 an award of 20,000 coins.
 
 
> read page 21
You read page 21 in your newspaper.

---------------------- The NannyMUD Times --------------------- page 21   --
 
 What do you get if you combine the powers of NannyMUD's
 most talented bug creator, the wizard Czygorwan, and the most
 twisted mind of all bug-abusing mortals, the knightess Oriole?
 Total chaos and disorder, a demoted wizard and a banished mortal?
 No, in fact all we could squeeze out of it was an article for the
 NannyMUD Times.
 
 In the small town of Ceer on the island of Casada, Bud Beanstalk
 has his small business: Bud's Fast Delivery. Here you can send
 an item from your inventory to another mortal currently in the
 mud. The cost of this service depends on the weight of the
 package, and if the delivery fails you get your package and money
 back. Of course it takes a while for the delivery to be made, so
 you might have to wait for the package to arrive at its destination.
 
 This sounds quite nice, and not so very buggy. Now it works as it
 should, but in the beginning Bud had some small problems with
 knowing what packages he really was supposed to send. Among
 other things he had problems realising that he should not send
 invisible items, he should not send non-droppable items, neither
 auto-loading things. His failure to properly check the package
.
 could be (ab)used by a player. Here we shall note a few of the
 more or less interesting and useful ways to use the delivery service.
 
 
 
 Does your newbie char need xp quickly? Make your friend send her
 rank 25 khorne collar to your newbie, and you get some interesting
 instant powers. When you are done, send it back.
 
 Can members of your guild not solve a certain quest? Send your guild
 object to a friend, solve the quest, and have your friend to send you
 back to your guild with your old powers.
 
 Do you have problems accessing guild rooms where your pk enemy
 is hiding? Have a guildless pker, make a friend send his knight cloak
 to you, and surprise the Defender that is getting eq in the shareroom.
 
 Do you want to make a monk's life hard? Send them your small
 cross, and they become members of the Mats Followers. Pity for
 the monks is that Lars does not see lightly upon this club.
 
 Do you want to solve a quest with your khorne, but you can't since
.
 your Chaos platemail prevents you from wearing the quest armour?
 No problems, send it to a friend, solve the quest, and get it back,
 
 Do you think it's unfair that your Simyarin can only carry half of
 what other players can? No problem, share your guild drawback
 with the other guilds. Send your invisible burden to someone you
 don't like. And if you and your Simyarin friend send your weights
 to the same player, he or she can't carry anything at all. How nice.
 
 Do you and all your friends want a meepmobile? Are you not
 prepared to pay the price? No worries. Ask your friend that just
 died with her khorne to jump a few times when she suicides down
 to level 1, each time sending the meepmobile to one of you.
 
 Do you enjoy people making fools out of themselves without
 knowing it themselves. Go to a some place where and evil creature
 sucks your soul out. Then go and send your new soul to someone.
 
 Have you worn or wielded a cursed item, and you can't quit?
 Have you worn or wielded a cursed item, and you must quit?
 No problem, send it to someone you think deserves it.
 A hellblade with 1000 kills is probably fun to get.
.
 A rusty dagger that takes 10 hp every other second is probably
 not fun to get.
 
 Do you want all of your non-druid friends to be able to wear
 barkskin too? You guessed right, you can send it to them.
 
 Did you get cursed when you entered an ancient grave? No problem,
 send the curse to the nearest victim.
 
 Did a Simyarin cast a nasty spell on you, like leg power? Just send
 it to your worst enemy. Of course this can be used effectively
 when you and your Simyarin friend cast spells all over the mud from
 Bud's shop. Putting wards on someone in a duel can be very useful.
 
 Your tome can be filled with many nice spells. Some of them are
 good for a while, but hurt you later on. Try casting a few
 unnatural stamina on yourself, then sending away the spell effects to
 someone and see them lose 100 hp per package they received.
 
 Go get Black plague or Malaria or something. Send the nasty diseases
 to someone that's idling and watch them die. Especially mean if they
 stand in the village church or some other "safe" place.
.
 
 Go attack some of the evil mages that are all over the mud. Make sure
 they cast some really mean spell on you, that gives you damage all the
 time. Then send the spell to someone you don't like, and have fun
 at them while they try to understand where the godly torment that killed
 them came from.
 
 Eating cookies can be very rewarding for a while, but the disadvantage
 of taking drugs can be somewhat too obvious to you afterwards. Why
 not eat a bunch of cookies and go kill all those baddies you always
 wanted to slay. Afterwards, send the effect to the player of your choice
 and see her take 50 hp of damage every other second. Try the same with
 Qqqq's trolldrugs, and let someone else freeze in withdrawal periodically.
 
 
 The NannyMUD Times offers a prize of 20,000 coins to the player with the
 best (ab)use of this feature that was not described here.  Mail the ideas
 to Lonewolf, unless you feel daring enough to experiment and send a log.