Peredhil

What a bleak winter poem. Well done.

Speak softly but wield a big Vote? Focusing on the future and wondering why others focus on the past? Favorite: Silent but Deadly?

Wow. Welcome back with a bang! Good piece. You've been missed. Huggles

Hugs Any amount of time with which you grace the Pen with your presence is Good Time. It's quality, not quantity. That said, I hope you can increase the quantity as well!

Too cool... You know, when I consider it, it saddens me that you and I (and Ozy and Wyvern) live so closely but haven't gotten together...

One of the features in Reincarnation is that the Status Report and the Disband screen both list your stacks in correct stacking order, figuring in the adjusted powers for Flying and Melee. As a clue, one way to do what Rev' mentions is to realize that an equal percentage of Flyers stacks higher than Melee stacks higher than Ranged. So, for example, a lesser percent of Flyers will still stack higher than the larger percent of Ranged.

Done in a nonce, M'Lady

before casting Contract, stock way up on Book of Prophecy and Wine of Three Whips. BoP steals people from another mage (seed stock), and WoTW increases their fertility rate to Energizer Bunny proportions. Or at least, that's how it was told to me. I've never played Nether.

Welcome back Tattered, always good to see you. You're voice often murmurs, whispers, shouts - sings praises too. But no matter what you post or how long the time away, Your Pen family, the family of NOW, welcomes you anyway. The past clasps the present with cold dead skeletal claws And tries to wrench the focus on to it. But you can only plan for tomorrow, and live in the now - So tell the past, Politely, to screw it. It has no power that you don't lend it, The nightmares strong can fade. From the desert sun of loneliness, Come into the Pen's oasis of shade.

RotFLOL!

Side notes: If intelligence is genetic, and intelligent people realize that over-population is a problem and avoid breeding large families - does that mean stupidity will eventually out-breed the intelligent? A recent study of the effects of Television on children showed a startling 100% of children who watched 3+ hours of TV a day ended up testing positive for Attention Deficit Disorder. Glaring fatigue error: Children UNDER THE AGE OF TWO who watched 3+ hours etc Amazing how facts distort when you leave things out...

Spiritually from my understanding of Judo-Christian based literature, it would be because "Satan" is the screwed up competative world as it is according to "common sense" and "being realistic". The reason as given according to my understanding is that God gave Adam the responsibility and authority (which translates to ownership and dominion) over the earth and its creatures. When Adam committed treason by his disobedience, he effectively gave that ownership to the devil. I believe that at one place, the devil is referred to as the 'god of this world' to indicate his ownership. That Jesus the anointed didn't just laugh at the devil when offered control of the powers and principalities and stuff, but instead answered it seriously with the word of God, would suggest this as well. I do like that when Jesus rejects Peter's entirely sensible (according to the priorities of the world's logic) suggestion, it is with "get behind me Satan" - dealing with the source of the suggestion. I also like that that was the end of it - no one freaked out and treated Peter like a leper just because he'd messed up. So that's one point of view. Of course, when using spiritual matters as an excuse to act on worldly desires, you get the very well documented results which appear in every human culture of which I'm aware. All human societies have some form of religion, and all of them of which I've read have a record of some abuse of that religion. Now, moving to a worldly five-senses view of the same issue... Genetically speaking, it only makes sense to kill those different from your genetic line, since they compete for resources. If someone is visibly different, the likelihood of shared genes is smaller, so it doesn't make genetic sense to share resources unless they are a female under your culture's control, so they can combine their genes with yours. Conservation of the Seed helps to explain why males will die for their genetic lines. Males are able to reproduce for a much longer period of time, and can impregnate many females. Therefore, they're more expendible genetically speaking. Men also have a need for confidence, status in the society, and resources capabilities to be genetically attractive. Consider "Joe Millionare", where females were willing to prostitute themselves with a stranger for the chance of a million dollars. Status confers ability to protect the spawn. etc. etc. If you think of it from the sperm and eggs points of view, most of this is pretty obvious deduction. Of course, if someone fixes your starting point, no matter how wrong, the arguments are much more likely to build their way...

There was once a herd of llamas that lived next to a herd of cows - - separated only by a small fence. The cows would trick the young llamas into coming over near the fence, then when they got close enough, the cows would grab them and pull them over to their side. At that point, they would kick the llamas around - - using them like soccer balls, or worse! The moral of the story? Llamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cow toys.

All I would say you know. But I'm reminding you it is still all true. hugs Remember, I still haven't let you out of anything you've gotten yourself into - hearts, pockets, Dungeons. AP-E Peredhil

Deaf. If I can read, I have worlds in my mind. I "hear" your voices here as I read your posts. I'd not be deprived of my online family and friends.

Falcon, you'd be in huge trouble - of a kind, in my family. The Patriarch of my side of the family instituted a Rule that if you are eligible to vote and don't (for whatever reason), you weren't allowed to make any political comments until you voted. I remember my family setting up one of my brothers who'd not voted, saying things that were guaranteed to set him off, and him fuming in silence. Heh. It was a lesson to us all. Is there Political Viagra? Last Presidential Election, if I recall, Florida had Electile Disfunction...

Ooop! Had it pointed out that Maralasoth is a FEMALE Roc. I'm sorry! I didn't dare try to get close enough to check her gender... The story has been fixed.

Lady Vanessa story is now posted in the Assembly Room (linked via her name in the opening post of this thread.) I hope it meets her approval!

~~~Vanessa~~~~ “Damn his eyes anyway.” Despite the amount of ale she’d knocked back, her speech was precise. True, she spoke Common Tongue instead of Elven. Elven was great for a subtle innuendo or a delicately placed daggered phrase, but for good barracks stableman guttersnipe cursing, nothing beat the Common Tongue. “The sonnova ORC.” She stopped, carefully tipped, squeezed the leather bag, and neatly caught the stream of wine without losing a drop. It was cheap and vinegary, but that’s why she saved it until her sense of taste was gone. “No good rotten,” she paused for another drink, “sheep-lovin’ – why’d ya let Morlas the prissy kill you any way?” Only the slight weaving in her walk, as if she were on a storm-blown ship instead of a foul smelling alley, showed how drunk she really was. And in the darkness, seven eyes watched her come. She quit cursing Heinrich for dying while she chased this thought. Seven eyes? Seven? If there were eight eyes, she’d know there were four lurkers waiting, but seven? She stopped suddenly and swayed as her body dealt with lost momentum. Craning her neck forward, she focused as best she could through the alcoholic fumes. In the alley’s chill, four bodies crouched behind barrels and crates waiting for her to continue. They were hot with the eagerness to kill, and perhaps more. Rape? She fumbled for her short sword and reconsidered. In the narrow alley’s confines, her long knife would be more appropriate. Masking the motion with her body’s mass, she drew the knife after two tries. One. Two. Her muddled thoughts considered and rejected the idea of a cursed weapon. Naw, she was well on her way to being able to sleep without the nightmares tonight. And they were in her way. In the best of worlds, she’d kill them all with arrows, but the town had the oddest laws about bows in the hands of anyone but the Merchant Watch. In her way. Way to go. Way to bed and oblivion. She started forward again. As she approached, their bodies warmed to a fever pitch of anticipation. Stupid men. Like stupid Heinrich, who got himself killed before she could decide just how she felt about him. Half of the time she’d thought that maybe she’d loved him, the rest of the time she’d wanted to hit him in that smug psionic head with a brick. Hah! One of the thieves had one eye! She began giggling at the thought. How could a one-eyed thief pick a lock? With one hand? As she started laughing, she passed between the first two, who leapt at her. Without weapons. With a shouted “Eep!” she allowed a stone to roll under her foot and staggered back, accidentally spraying wine into the face of the attacker on her right. Screaming for help and flailing her arms for balance, she raked her blade down the chest of the brigand on her left. Damn. Knife caught in the muther-orc-lovin’ belt. And where was Heinrich, who’d sworn to have her back in a fight? She kicked wine-soaked one in the groin with a hiss of satisfaction, while she grabbed the arm of the one she’d stabbed to give her balance. Why, dear Heinrick the Dead was DEAD. Slamming her wine bag in her balancing brigand’s face, she absently took the club from his belt and slammed it on his stupid man skull. The crunch was wonderful to hear, but not the head she wanted to hit. One-eye was starting to stealthily back down the alley ahead of her, but his partner, hearing the fighting in the dark, rushed forward to help. She’d wanted to help when the Messenger of the Gods came for Heinrick but Noooo. Morlas had to go kill him before she could. Truly pissed now, she whirled off balance, catching herself at the last moment as she spun by slamming the club into the attacker’s chest. His scream and the sound of shattering bones were simultaneous. Stupid stupid stupid. Attack an Elf of the Blood in an alley. Think that they could lay hands on royalty? She kicked the one trying to get to his hands and knees in the head. Their moans and pitiful cries for help rose around her as she dislodged her knife (on the second try) from the thief holding it for her. The smell of bowel that followed the blade’s removal nearly caused her to lose her liquid dinner. Resuming her journey to the inn, she ignored the moaning heaps behind her as she staggered with renewed purpose. Probably got blood on her last pair of good boots too. When she reached the far end of the alley, she had to maneuver carefully around the pulped remains of One-eye’s body. Great. That meant Maralasoth had taken a hand, or more appropriately, claw in the matter. There’s a moral for ya, never attack someone who owns a pet roc. Blinking owlishly as she switched visions to account for the increased light of the street, she didn’t see Maralasoth anywhere in sight. She hoped that she’d wash her claws this time. Trying to get dried blood out from around the talons was an all-afternoon job. Navigating a wide left, she maneuvered carefully down the center of the street. Just like the man to die and leave her with no wine to drown his memory! “Damn his eyes anyway,” she muttered.

Carefully takes a red crayon and draws a smile on the wallpaper woman of woes. Taking a peach crayon, he draws his eternal hug around her waist. Looking at the beauty and glory of the heart hidden within the woman With love and friendship he leaves her embraced. Well done Hon', and welcome back.

But let's debate ideology, politics, etc, not each other. Politics, like most emotional subjects, can get ugly. Please be Polite. That said, I just did my absentee ballot and ended up voting against, not for. Or, like the bumper sticker said, "If God had wanted me to vote, he'd have given me candidates instead of politicians."

JOAT! Hug-pounce-bows in reverent awe Wow, great to see you! Glad you dropped by. -PereJoat.

Lady Celes - I got the impression that each writer was on their own - the only overlap being that they are all struggling to write 50K words. Ouch. Looks thoughtful I really don't have time but... walks away musing.

Oohph. Body blow. Well done!

THAT'S IT! I mean, thank you Orlan.