Patrick

Preprise, I was just saying that a little box in the post screen would be too hard to implement and that it is much easier to use a box that is set in someone's profile, since the forum software allows that to be done with tools it provides. I also accepted that it would be shown next to the name, it was just your suggestion of where it should be set that was too hard to make work.

Please consider though that the techy admin isn't a professional IT technician, he takes care of the forum in his free time, is still a student, only pursues PHP and mySQL as a hobby so far and isn't a pro with the forum software which is in no way written by him, but just licensed from IPS... Once you do consider that you'll realise that coding a little box for the post screen would be way, way more time consuming, than using the built-in function of the forum software that allows you to add a custom field into everyone's profile and make this field visible next to each post...

That would require coding that form, creating the database that stores all this info, modifying the topic view page so that it shows it, etc...I'm not saying that it's not doable, but I'm not that comfortable with the forum software yet...

OOC: co-written with Vene. After finishing a particularly salty hors d'hoeuvre, one of the twins became thirsty. Fortunately for her, she saw a whole lot of poured glasses on a nearby table. At the very same moment as her sister, she wandered over to the drinks table and took one of the glasses. "What do you think this is?" "I don't know ... but you know what mom says." Together, they chimed, "You won't know if you'll like it until you try." Giggling, they each took one of the fancy glasses and drank ... It was fizzier than coke and sweeter and after about fifteen minutes and five glasses of the stuff, both of them were giggling uncontrollably, laughing at ridiculous things, like the colour of an apple or the shape of a chicken leg. It did not take long for one of the grown ups to notice the twins happy moments and rush over. Polly and Molly were ushered away from the champagne table, still whispering very loudly amongst themselves, saying not very nice things about their father's costume. OOC: Vene's vote: Blby/necromancer. Patrick's vote: Gryphon - Zane 'Jack' Russell...never trust the IT guy...he has 777 access...

Chapter 6 410 years before Grimfalk’s return “Is it possible to love knowing what the future has in store? Is it possible not to hate someone for a future betrayal? Or are we all just puppets in some grand scheme, unable to move contrary to the threads dangling from the puppet-master’s hands?” – The Prophecy It was a beautiful afternoon. The rays of the distant sun caught on the golden leaves in the park, bathing the soft grass in an almost yellow light. Three months had passed since our first meeting. The summer had ended, but the onset of autumn did not in the least tarnish our feelings for each other. And still I carried the dark secret of the future inside of me. Even in my first lifetime I was among a privileged few who knew more than half of the prophecy. My brother had known slightly more, but the whole picture had never been revealed to him either. In the millennia since the truths and lies had become so entangled that no one had an accurate picture of the prophecy any more. No one but me. The prophecy did not determine every action. It wasn’t a thread you had to follow without deviation. The way I had always imagined the prophecy was as a widely flowing river. You could move whichever way you wanted to in the river, you could swim from one bank to the other. But there were times when you had to descend a waterfall, because the current left you no other choice. Today I was at a waterfall. Not because of anything that had been prophesized, but because of one of my own choices. I could no longer bear to hide the truth from Inya. I took a deep breath and started talking without any real introduction to the subject. “I sometimes wish I could have lived a different life. Free of all these obligations, free to make my own choices and not have to comply with the future that I know has to happen. Unfortunately my life is simply as living through a movie I had already seen previously. I know in general what happens, but it’s as though I had been really tired when watching it and occasionally fell asleep, since parts of it are missing.” She was listening attentively. I was the only person in the universe who could talk about the prophecy this way and she did not hide her curiosity. “There is a part of the film of my life that hasn’t happened yet, but which is a pivotal point of the story. It is a turn for the worse. Inya, I am prophesized to kill you exactly sixteen years to the day when we first met.” The words had not come easily, but they had to come. My feelings were as torn apart as hers must have been. Part of me wished with all its might that she would run away from me, breaking the prophecy in the process and saving herself. The other part of me wanted to hold her close and to never let go, effectively dooming her, tying her for the rest of her cruelly short life to the thread of the prophecy. “I love you Inya, but believe me when I say that I wish that we had never met. I have no reason to want you anything bad, and I can’t see myself become the person that I am bound to become, but there is that nagging feeling inside my heart that what is going to happen can’t be stopped.” She spoke slowly when she spoke, as if she carefully weighed every word still not sure of one word, when she spoke the previous one. “When I met you, I felt that you weren’t someone ordinary. Of course that was love speaking, but then a month ago you told me who you really are…were back then. I believe you when you say that the prophecy can’t be stopped.” “There are a lot of things about me that you don’t know yet. My life had been pretty bad until I met you, George. Men always think that being a good-looking woman makes things in life easier. For me it made life much harder. I never liked being the centre of attention was always shy. But having the looks I had acted like a magnet for boys even while I was still in school. Even when I told them that I did not want to see them they still came to see me. For them it was cool to be seen in my company. Even my girlfriends only hung out with me because they hoped that some of the attention that I was given could rub off on them.” “I dated quite a few of my admirers before I met you. But I never loved any one of them. It was as though I was looking for someone perfect who would never come along. After one of these failed relationships I was so down that I tried to kill myself. Luckily for those who cared somewhat for me as a person, they were able to save my life, before the overdose could kill me.” “Even afterwards my life was hell. Until the day you came around. I couldn’t recall a day when I had been happy in the last six or seven years before I met you. I had always just been getting through the crap life was throwing at me, envious of the friends who I considered luckier than myself and who found something in life that satisfied them. But then I met you, and I was finally as happy as those I had envied earlier. You gave me what no one had ever given me before. You did not consider me a doll that you could showcase alongside your sports car. You were the first man in my life to consider me for who I really am, someone who is very different on the inside than on the outside.” She took hold of my hand. “My life did not have a meaning before I met you. I was close to going for suicide yet again, but this time determined not to fail. You gave my life meaning. George, if I had to die now, after only three months with you, I’d die happily. You say we are given sixteen years. I say we cherish the time given to us and try to live it out as fully as we can, not thinking of what has to happen that fateful day, until it eventually does come.” My heart beat faster than it ever had. “Inya, I…” I paused, not knowing what to say. “Shh, don’t say anything,” she put a finger against my lips. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Chapter 5 18 months before Grimfalk’s return “On a fateful winter night, he embarked on a journey, the end of which no one could have guessed.” – The Prophecy The cold was even worse for Sean Jr. He did not have the thick furs his father wore. He wore a simple shirt underneath his sweater. Both were frozen to his body, the initial perspiration of his exertions now a frozen sheet of cloth. His teeth chattered uncontrollably and his footsteps swayed erratically off the path he mentally imagined. He already regretted leaving against his mother’s wishes. The warmth of the family home felt like an unattainable paradise, but when he had left it he had stepped through the gates of this chilly hell. It was only a question of minutes before his senses left him and he lay down in the warm snow, never to stand up again. Already the desire to stop and just simply give up was almost irresistible. Joining the rebels had been a foolish venture from the start. A dream only a fool could entertain. The soft snow rushed up to meet him and he embraced it, content to finally not have to move anymore. His thoughts drifted far away from the weather, far away from a small matter of the 12th Imperial Army trying to reassert control over a rebellious planet. He woke up several hours later. To tell the truth he was quite surprised to be alive. He had half expected to only open his eyes in the afterlife, but it seemed that the Gods had wanted things differently. Flickering lights on a ceiling above him let him know that he was indoors. The air was pleasantly warm, a very good improvement on the deadly cold outside. He tried moving his arm, but stopped as he felt a gentle, but firm hand touch his shoulder. “You shouldn’t move. You almost died out there and are still weak.” The voice was a kind, deep voice that Sean did not recognise. “Where am I?” he asked, fighting off the urge to move his arm. Something did not feel right with it, but he could not pinpoint exactly what the problem was. “Halmand Castle. You collapsed just in front of the gates.” Sean turned his head and looked at the man who was talking to him. He wore a thick fur coat, the hood of which was thrown back, revealing a thick dark beard and hair that was matching in colour and reaching almost to the man’s shoulders. “My name is Jonathan. I’m part of the medical team,” he said, answering the question Sean already had on his lips. “I was quite worried about you back there, but you pulled through nicely,” he added with a smile. “How old are you?” “Eighteen,” Sean lied. “I have come to join up. I want to fight the Imperials!” “Even if you had been out hunting you’d have no other choice.” Jonathan sighed. “They have the castle surrounded. Now, let’s not think about battles and war for a few minutes. I have some nice hot soup for you here.” Jonathan helped Sean sit up and lifted the bowl for him, but then put it back down. “How stupid of me. I was forgetting.” He gently took hold of Sean’s right arm and lifted it from under the sheets. “I’m so sorry.” Sean looked in horror at his hand. Thick bandages smelling of disinfectant were wrapped around it, but he could still see what the problem was. His right hand had only two fingers. “Your fingers were completely frozen. We could only save your index and little finger.” Jonathan compassionately put a hand on Sean’s shoulder. Sean fought down the urge to cry. He fought down the urge to cry out for his parents. Tears welled up, but he did not let them come out. “Lucky that I’m left handed isn’t it?” he said, picking up the bowl of hot soup and putting on as brave a face as he could. He put the bowl on his lap and then leant over for the spoon. To tell the truth, he had never been more scared in his whole life.

Congratulations, both of you!

Chapter 4 2912 years before the return of Grimfalk “Hear me, oh Gods! Hear my feeble voice! Hear my prophecy!” – The Prophecy The day of my graduation from the university went surprisingly well. Even my great brother, the hero of the entire universe came. Of course everyone had focused on him. Of course ninety percent of the press coverage of the day would be about him. But he had not come for all that. He had come to see his little brother, Armus White, receive the diploma that he himself had never acquired. The need for a hero had torn my brother Grimfalk from his education when he was just eighteen. When his generation was still safely nestled inside the educative system he fought battles spanning solar systems, negotiated with warlords and monarchs and participated in the unification of a universe torn apart by conflict. But he had been there the day I graduated. That night was the last time that the whole of our family dined together. It was an emotional affair. Grimfalk’s first night at home in many years coupled with the pride my parents felt at my graduation brought the whole extended family to our house. The press, hungry for any morsel of information they could possibly acquire about my brother and his family were never far away that night. But they weren’t the worst. It was shortly after midnight that the first bomb exploded. It missed our house by a good hundred feet, but the sound of it woke us all. Grimfalk was the first outside, a white light surrounding him, his arms outstretched as he tried protecting us all from the sudden attack. In no way could he have anticipated the attack about to come. Dozens of bombs flew at us from the sky, all of them stopped by my brother and I. But around us, the landscape was being torn apart, by the full-scale military assault. The final attack came suddenly and was so unexpected that not even my brother could stop it. A massive spaceship, more than three miles in length hurtled through the atmosphere, a white-hot projectile burning through the thin layers of air surrounding the planet. Only seconds were left. I was paralyzed in fear. Despite all the training I had received, despite all of my studies, I did not have the experience that my brother did. The flagship of the attacking fleet easily smashed through our magical defences. Grimfalk grabbed my arm and the ground slipped from under my feet. Soft sand grated underneath my feet. Salty ocean air, a stunning contrast to the burning air I had breathed just a second ago, invaded my senses. Apart from the waves softly breaking on the beach no sound could be heard and nothing moved. “Look,” Grimfalk said and pointed to the star-lit sky above us. I could recognise the constellations. And in the middle of it, the planet where I had spent my childhood and my learning years. Half of the planet was engulfed in a massive inferno, spreading rapidly to the other side. “Father…mother…” I heard Grimfalk fall to his knees. I wept silently with him, gazing at the unfolding massacre. It was long before either of us uttered another word. “I was their target. They killed everyone just so as to have a chance at killing me,” I had never heard Grimfalk’s voice so sad, never felt so much determination in him. “I want revenge.” He turned his blood-shot eyes away from the skies and looked at me. “Little brother. I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…this is all my fault.” He disappeared from my side. I wouldn’t see him for six years.

Thank you for the comments Gwai! Free will will be one of the main threads the story develops. So expect to see more on that. The setting is a mix of sci-fi/fantasy, while still close enough to modern day to be able to explore issues which are not far away from issues of modern times. The main objective of that chapter is to establish context, both politically and family-wise. Pace might be off though, I'll look into seeing whether that chapter can be improved. *blushes appropriately* Thanks for spotting that mistake. I'll look into that other sentence too. The Prophecy, as you guessed, shall be unravelled as the story progresses on. I'll put Prophesized down to pond difference. As for setting, I have to keep some for later, don't I? :-) I'm not sure I understand your commentary about millenia. Saying whether he gets to live 410 years or is brought back in another lifetime would be telling. Tune back in a couple of chapters for the reply to that. One hero was enough. No one wanted a second one. Besides, it remains to be seen whether the prophecy forced him to live that way, or whether he lived that way because it had been prophesized. Close, but no cigar. Not taking them as too critical. I asked for them, remember. Thanks again!

I'm sorry Silver Wind, but the discussion on this thread has gone way off topic, and not towards the offtopic that we like and I've locked it. Clean up of the topic is now complete. Please keep commentaries to the poem. Anything else shall suffer the same fate as the posts which were moved from here. ~Patrick

I'm glad that you liked it Blby! Not one, not two, but three more chapters are up! I'm planning on keeping them as short as these are, for easier digestion.

Chapter 3 410 years before Grimfalk’s return “Love. A trap that can catch even the mightiest.” – The Prophecy “Inya,” I let her name roll of my lips as she came back, dripping and naked from her morning shower. We had known each other for just two months and already rented a flat together. She lay down next to me, and put her head on the pillow. I leant over and kissed her. “There is something I have to talk to you about,” I started. I had meant to have this talk earlier, but finding the right time and place was never easy for such a talk. “Do you know who I am?” I asked her. The question must have caught her by surprise, but she did not show it, “Of course. You are George Heath, twenty-five year old law student, top of his class and the man very lucky to be loved by me,” she rolled over and playfully tickled me. Despite every inch of my body desiring to join in the game, I resisted and gently pushed her away from me. “In a certain sense that is true. But there is much more to me. Do you know who Grimfalk was?” I asked her. She nodded. Everyone knew who Grimfalk had been. History lessons still sang odes about his exploits in putting a ravaged universe back together more than three thousand years ago. “I don’t know how to say this, but - ” I paused as she put a hand on my arm, an expression of curiosity mixed with concern in her clear blue eyes. “It will be hard for you to believe this, it is sometimes hard even for me, but I am, I mean I was, in a previous lifetime, Grimfalk’s brother.” Seeing laughter in her eyes, I added, “This is not a joke or a game Inya. I sincerely wish it were. I am as accursed by the prophecy as he was.” She did not reply. I caught myself thinking that she considered me mad. Calling the prophecy accursed in a universe redeemed by it would have, by most, been considered blasphemy. “All the history books say that Grimfalk’s brother was as powerful a mage as Grimfalk ever had been. In all your life you never showed any signs of magic coursing through your veins. Of all things you are a law student George!” Her tone was chastising. “I find it very hard to believe you, yet somehow, I can’t disbelieve you either.” “Watch,” I simply said and lifted up one of my hands. A slender green stalk shot from my hand and rapidly grew to a length of several inches. Within a few seconds a beautiful white flower perched atop of my hand. Inya stared at me in wide-eyed shock. Suddenly she started shaking. Immediately the flower disappeared from my hand. I gently pulled the sheets over her naked form and hugged her tightly. It took me several minutes to bring her back to a relatively calm state. “My parents weren’t killed in a car accident as I told you when we met,” she said after several more minutes. “They were killed by a rogue magic-user who had broken off from the Mage’s Guild Academy before he had completed his training.” “And you’ve been terrified of magic ever since the day. The prophecy had said it,” I said. “I knew what I could cause to you and for that I am sorry. But I had to prove to you that I was not a raving lunatic.” “Please promise me that you shall never use magic again,” she said. “Please.” “I promise, Hasanlia,” I said and kissed her gently on the forehead. “Hasanlia?” she asked. “The magical word for an unbreakable promise,” I replied and hugged her tight.

Chapter 2 410 years before Grimfalk's return “A fateful meeting. Neither able to resist the love. Neither of them able to disentangle themselves from the thread of prophecy.” - The Prophecy My whole life has been shaped by the prophecy. Ever since the age of ten, in my first lifetime, thousands of years ago, when I was first told of the prophecy, what I was going to do and when I was going to do it has been foretold. One can never know whether the prophet relating his words in a haze of drugs simply has insight into the future that is to happen or whether he chooses the future to happen. Nonetheless, whether I wanted to or not, events unfolded around my life over which I had no control. I had a brother in my first lifetime. An older brother who grew to be the greatest hero the universe had ever known. From the age of sixteen my life was overshadowed by the influence he wielded and the deeds he accomplished. Of course all of it had been prophesized and for the two of us it was like living a dream we had had years earlier. But for everyone else, he was the hero the universe had needed to bring it out of centuries of civil war and economic ruin. It had never been easy growing up knowing that I would be an average nobody. All of my choices had already been made for me and I just needed to go along with them and live the life that had been laid out for me, while my brother had the life I had always dreamed of. I was to die, as foretold, at the disappointing age of fifty-three in a car accident of all things. In my first lifetime I had been as proficient a mage as the universe had ever seen. Of course, since my brother was at least as good as me, and had six extra years to show off, no one took much notice of me. I was educated at the magical university as everyone else who manifested magical powers. Of course, being just the younger brother of the greatest prodigy, no one paid much attention to me and I was just one of many. All my adult life I got to work as a tribunal mage, sorting out the truth of testimonies from the false. I did not resent my brother for hogging all the fame from me. We were always closer than most people thought. Our fates had been tied together in the accursed prophecy and he stayed close to me, even though I was nobody. He knew that millennia later he would need me. It was strange to open my eyes again after the crash and pain of the accident. I knew that I was supposed to be dead. It had been foreseen as the day of my death. It had taken me a couple of minutes, staring at a man in a white lab-coat, his hands enormous compared to what I could recall as the right size for hands, to realise that I had been reborn. Thoughts alien to a baby just born were present in my mind from the day I was brought to the world. The mother who birthed me for my second life was dead from childbirth, but I had another life ahead of me. A life in which I was supposed to become the most dreaded person the universe ever knew. From the point of view of a child just a few minutes old it had seemed incredibly absurd of course, so I had the most natural reflex, and started crying. Twenty-five years had passed since I was brought to life again as a brother-less orphan. My father had died while my mother was five-months pregnant, his life of crime finally catching up to him in an electrical chair. A cousin thirty years older than me raised me. She took good care of me and even provided the best education she could. Never through all these years did I tell anyone of the millennia-old knowledge inside of me. Never did I mention it to anyone what I was destined for. I tried to live as simple a life as I could, dreading the day that the prophecy was to grab me up again and drag me down the path I had no wish to trod. Her eyes were at least as beautiful as the prophecy had foretold. I felt as though I could forever gaze at them as we danced through song after song. She turned away anyone else who wanted to dance with her, choosing me, the twenty-five year old law student, over everyone else that night. We were made for each other. We made love passionately that night. The moment felt like it could go on forever, but for me it was just the beginning of a dreaded journey.

Chapter 1 18 months before Grimfalk’s return “He was young, yet destined to be a greater man than some three times his age.” – The Prophecy The flickering flames of the fire only dimly lit the room. Thickly wrapped in furs, the warmth of the fire not enough to keep him from the glacial cold outside, the old man puffed on his pipe, the aftertaste of the supper still lingering on his tongue. “Sean! Sean!” a woman’s voice drifted from the upstairs room. “SEAN! Haul your fat ass up here!” “Stupid woman,” the man muttered underneath his breath. The love that had once passionately fuelled both of them had ended many years ago and only the lack of another viable partner and their three children kept them together. Puffing on his pipe more in annoyance, than for the taste Sean Wilson Sr. suffered his way up the stairs. “The boy is gone,” his wife simply said. “You know as well as I do, where he’s gone to.” “Humph. I’d wager he’s just chasing skirts down in the village. You know the boy, Marge.” “Chasing skirts! With the Imperial Army just hours away? You heard it yourself! They landed in the Northern Basin twenty-four hours ago. You always knew that your accursed boy hated them. He’s gone to join the rebels, without a doubt.” The conversation was turning out to be another of their usual arguments. “Bollocks! That boy knows what’s good for him.” He simply dumped the contents of his pipe into the small fireplace in the room and started refilling it again. “He is my son, he is no fool.” “It is exactly because he is your son that he has left! You should go and find him before he gets himself into more trouble than he can handle.” An inaudible mumble followed, but still Sean Wilson Sr. turned and headed down the stairs. He had no wish to go out into the biting cold. But still… He had to admit to himself that his son, Sean Junior, had been acting weirdly ever since he had heard the news about the Imperial Army. Cursing his conscience for not letting the matter go, the old man reached for his thick fur coat. The cold was even worse than he had imagined. It bit through every layer of clothing he wore. He tried huddling close to his horse’s neck, tried sheltering himself from the howling wind, but there was no escape. He could already feel his gloved hands growing numb. He cursed his wife and his conscience yet again and urged the steed onwards. The full moon illuminated the whole valley ahead and made following his son’s trail an easy task. The trail led directly north. Towards Halmand Castle. Away from the village. “Halt!” The command caught him completely by surprise and in his surprise he pulled the horse to a halt. Three men, carrying rifles, and dressed in uniform barred his path. It was only upon closer inspection that it dawned on him that these men weren’t those he was used to seeing patrol these regions. They were regular soldiers from the Imperial Army. “No civilians are permitted further north. A major military operation is ongoing.” The voice was harsh and left no room for manoeuvre. “But, my son, he has gone that way!” he indicated the trail of footsteps that the wind had still failed to blow away. “If your son is inside of the operational area, then he shall be considered an enemy combatant. Now leave before we have to use force. This is no place for a civilian.”

OOC: please keep comments in the Critic's Corner, this story shall have quite a few chapters and I wouldn't want to have the flow disrupted. Prologue 410 years before Grimfalk’s return “The moment he saw her he knew that she was the one. The one he was supposed to fall in love with. The future mother of his children. The woman he was going to kill sixteen years later.” - The Prophecy She glided softly across the dance floor, clearly a much better dancer than her current partner. When the song ended she gracefully let his hand go, declined his invitation for a drink and went over to the bar, sitting on the stool next to me. I was terrified of her. Behind her cheerful smile and captivating eyes, I could already see her lying dead on the ground, blood flowing from her chest, the dripping knife in my hand. I could already see my two sons, and my daughter, unborn for years to come. Death on a battlefield, drug overdose, being gunned down for a case of mistaken identity. I knew everything about their lives even before they were more than a thought in her head. “Hi, my name is Inya,” she said, her voice sounding pleasant. That was new information to me. I knew already the exact date of her death, yet I had not even known her name. My expression must have shown my sadness at knowing the future ahead of us, for she asked me why I was so sad. I had a trouble finding words, and stayed silent instead. The band struck up another song and she took hold of my hand. “Come on, dance with me.” I could not resist. I was already in love with her.

OOC: cowritten with Vene, who makes a great like-minded twin! The twins were right next to the spot where the woman hit the table. After a shriek at the initial surprise, one of them started, "So much candy ..." "... and all of it wasted," the other one finished sadly. As the limp hand of the body slid down the side of the table one of the twins gave it an unfriendly tug. "You ruined..." "...our candy," the other twin finished. No reply came from the dead woman. The two twins thought about moving over to an untarnished table, but a crowd congregating around them looked to make passage difficult, and along with the body they were thrust to the center of attention. Being surrounded by the crowd, the suddenly tense mood of the adults started to take hold of the twins as well. Both of them suddenly felt uncomfortable at being shut in by so many serious adults. It took a few moments, but one of them managed to find a way through and with a quick "This way" to the other one, slipped more towards the back of the group. When they were nearly there, one of them whispered to the other, "What're they all doing suddenly? They candy is lost, but ... " "... they wouldn't have had any if they'd let us continue, either." "Besides, she was being dramatic." A nod, followed by a reply, "She could've just asked, too ..." Safely out of the ring of grown-ups and without a care in the world, the two twins rushed to the nearest table. It wasn't filled with sweets as the previous one had been, but they quickly found enough tasty hors d'oeuvres, delicious potato crisps and sauces to please them for quite a few minutes.

Very well conveyed emotions.

*grins* I'll wholeheartedly agree on that feeling of half-awakeness. Oh and school computers suck...

Very powerful second version Psimon. The changes and additions really help in adding expressiveness to the piece.

I can only echo Tanny's and Mynx's comments. Welcome to the Pen!

Ozy, I think sign-ups are still open.

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Appy and Peredhil stole the idea I had of posting that this reminded me of a dragon. Great poem.

Thanks Master P *hugs back*

Something is wrong with the board's capability of sending out emails... Hopefully this will be resolved shortly. In the meantime PM notifications, topic subscription notifications, validation emails, and emails to unlock an account may or may not arrive. If you need any help, validation or unlocking of an account in the meantime, shoot me an email at patrick (dot) durham (at) gmail (dot) com through your usual email program. Sorry for the inconvenience. Patrick Edit: those with Tower access check this thread: http://www.patrickdurham.net/themightypen/index.php?showtopic=15805