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{\Huge \bf NAVERO \\}
\vspace{.075in}
{\Large \it PRIEST OF THE CORRECT AND UNALTERABLE WAY \ !! \\}
\vspace{.075in}
{\large \sf \copyright \ 1990 by Daniel Parsons. All Rights Reserved. \\}
\vspace{.3in}
{\Huge \bf I \\}
\end{center}

\vspace{.1in}
Our story begins when our Hero is chucked out of his monestary at age 16 to
go out and learn the ways of the world.  The Order is (as you might guess
from the title) quite Lawful Good, but dear Navero has a streak of
obstinancy in him, concerning how following the rules might not apply in
every situation; this means he asks lots of stupid questions, and annoys the
h**l out of his superiors.  It was decided that this rather foolish youth
should go out into the world, and see for himself, that the Way was the only
way; perhaps experience and a few clouts to the head would teach him to keep
his mouth shut. \\

Our Hero was not sent out all alone, of course: a half-elven mage
named Dania (female, 4' 9", VERY earthy) had stopped by to purchase some
Holy Water, but could not afford it, and so instead of paying was told to
escort this young idiot for a little while, and see that he didn't get hurt. \\

The rest of the party was assembled in the traditional barfight.
Dania had gone into a tavern to unwind, as Navero had been pestering her for
days: he had never been that far from home before, and everything prompted
his curiosity.  Dania went into the tavern; Navero tagged along, and
received the shock of his youthful life.  People sitting around, not doing
anything productive, willfully imbibing spiritous liquors!  Gazing at his
new friend with obviously unwholesome thoughts!  (He didn't seem to notice
that she was gazing right back.)  The noise!  The smells!  This must be one
of those pits of decrepitude that Father Gulucios sometimes spoke of, when
warning about temptations!  But how could anyone find this sort of behaviour
tempting?  It was so... vile, and undisciplined, and really icky! \\

Our hero stood up on a table, and began to preach.  He wasn't nearly
as good as Father Gulucios --- the big man with the black beard and scar on his
face knocked Navero down, and some more people started tossing him around the
room, and everyone was laughing at him.  Then he landed on a VERY big man
who grabbed the man with the scar and struck him in the face.  A great fight
began; It swirled around the room, Navero in the middle; he tried to tell
them about the eternal damnation of their souls that these actions would no
doubt assure, but no one would listen.  Finally, a small man in a suit of
plate mail (YES! a PC!) grabbed Our Hero and dragged him out into the
street. \\

\vspace*{-0.1in}
\begin{description}
\item[Cavalier:] ``You stay out here, good holy man... er, choir boy, er...  No
	   matter --- I and my companions shall sort out this lot of unruly
	   peasants.''
\end{description}

There commenced much sound and fury, signifying nothing.  After it
was all over, Dania came out, looking rather disheveled, and told Our Hero
in no uncertain terms never to do anything like that again. \\ 

\vspace*{-0.1in}
\begin{description}
\item[Navero:] ``But I must!  If I do not, I will have failed my duty to my faith.
	 'One must strike when Opportunity grants it.' It is written that 
	 our duty is sacred, to bring the light to the world, and save those 
	 who are lost.''

\item[Dania:] ``YOU almost lost your (obscene gerund) HEAD!!  And mine, and that
	really (censored) (censored) (really censored!) you (Racial slur).
	I ought to...''
\end{description}

But at this moment, the short person in plate mail came out of the
tavern, with someone who looked like a mercenary, and a mysteriously cloaked
figure.  There was a dent in the short person's helmet, but he did not take
the time to try and explain it. \\

\vspace*{-0.1in}
\begin{description}
\item[Cavalier:] ``Well, that was entertaining.  You there, young priest!  Do you
	   know any sorts of healing arts?``

\item[Navero:] ``Um...  I took my training from Father Angorian, who once...''

\item[Cavalier:] ``Very good!  We have need of a healer, as we are going north to
	   seek out an Orc lair that needs to be emptied.  It shouldn't be
	   too much trouble, but your presence would be appreciated.  One of
	   the others may have a need of you.  There should be riches and
	   glory for all involved.  Your little friend can come along too,
	   if she likes.''
\end{description}

And so, the party formed and we went on our first adventure. I
know that this hasn't been particularly funny so far, but what happened in
that Orc lair should make up for it.  When Navero first went into combat,
the results were... well, shall we say, what you'd expect of him? \\

\vspace{.3in}
{\center \Huge \bf II \\}
\vspace{.1in}

I believe that the last time I posted, I had just reached the point where
Navero and Dania joined the party, which is now comprised of five people:
Navero, Dania, Rizudo (a fighter), the Cavalier (whose name I do not recall)
and an Assassin.  They set out on horseback (our DM was kind enough to let
starting characters have horses :-) for a small keep to the north, in the
middle of a swamp, which was roumored to be having troubles with Orcs.  Of
course, getting there was half the fun... \\

From the very first, we all hit it off like Nitro and Glycerin.
Ever since that time, I have always felt that intra-party fighting should be
normal at first.  People who go out adventuring tend to be confident in
themselves, and as such do not work well with others, at first, if they feel
thay can do it better alone.  There are, of course, exceptions, and this
strongly individual streak should wear out in time as the party members get
to know and trust each other.  But at first, for the party members to work
together well is not realistic, and our party was no exception to this.  The
first day we were togethor, there were three actual fights between members -
weapons drawn, and once blows exchanged.  We hurt ourselves more than the
monsters would for a week. \\

Anyway, we were travelling North to the keep, and found our first
``real'' combat.  This is the first time Navero got to strut his stuff in a
fight, and it's not a coincidence that it is the first time he nearly died.
We had passed through a very poor hamlet, which an old woman told us was
poor because of a ravenous beast that would periodically descend from the
sky, and slay and eat and carry off children. \\

\vspace*{-0.1in}
\begin{description}
\item[The Cavalier:]  ``A DRAGON! It must be!  At last, a foe worthy of my mettle!
		We must leave at once; these impoverished people's lives
		depend upon the aid we can give them.  The beast must be
		slain, and its treausre looted.''

\item[Navero:] ``Well, we should help, of course.  Do you think we can just convince
	it not to eat the villagers?  I read that Dragons can talk.  That
	would be a much better way to take care of the problem, and then
	maybe it could eat fish or something and everyone would be much
	happier.''
\end{description}

(A short pause ensued.) \\

\vspace*{-0.1in}
\begin{description}
\item[Rizudo:] ``I don't know about this, kids.  Dragons are dangerous, ya know.  Why
	 don't we all just go away and let them sort things out?''

\item[Dania:] ``Because Dragons have lots of money.''

\item[Rizudo:] ``Well, I guess that settles it.  We should get to know each other
	 better, babe.  Your'e a chick after my own heart.''

\item[The Assassin:]  ``With a large knife...''
\end{description}

And so our heroes bravely rode forth to do battle.  Of course, they
first had to find their opponent, which proved somewhat difficult as they
were in a swamp.  Time passed, and evening came, and the Cavalier waxed
sorley pissed. \\

\vspace*{-0.1in}
\begin{description}
\item[The Cavalier:]  ``Where is the beast?  One might almost think it afraid of me.''

\item[Rizudo:] ``Maybe it's female.  Women run away from you, ya know.''
\end{description}

At this point, we all heard a great flapping of wings, and looked up to see
the evening sky blotted out by a great leathery shape... It was a dragon, or
something very closely akin, although it had only 2 legs and was lumpy about
the head.  Whatever it was, Navero was quite horrified, his arms felt weak,
his heart fialed, and he began uttering prayers to the Lords of the Correct
and Unalterable Way.  It was an instinctual reaction, one born of the years
of his cloistered life, and of course he made his prayers as long and as loud
as he could... \\

\vspace*{-0.1in}
\begin{description}
\item[Dania:] ``NAVERO, SHUT UP!!  IT'LL HEAR YOU...  oh shit.''
\end{description}

One beady red eye cocked in our direction.  Slowly, with ancient
grace, the thing turned in midair, and came shrieking into the middle of the
party like a bat out of hell.  The Cavalier charged foreward to meet it; Rizudo
ran away; Dania popped off a magic missile and ran away; The Assassin was
long gone.  Navero remained; his horse had thrown him and run, leaving him
on his butt in a puddle staring at the monster coming right at him.  He
suddenly remembered that today was St. Kilgurian's Day, and he had forgotten
to say the proper prayers that morning. \\

The great Beast slammed to the ground, by some miracle not landing
on anyone, it's leathery wings about it, covering the road in smelly shadow.
With a mighty shout that sounded pitifully small to Navero, the Cavailier
charged the beast with his lance; it broke.  A crossbow bolt came out of the
bushes, and struck it in the flank; it seemed annoyed.  Realizing that the
beast was the implacale embodiment of all that was evil in the world, Navero
roused himself and took out the flanged mace Father Gilliam gave him, and
aimed such a mighty blow at its ridged back that when it bounced off, it hit
Navero square in the face for 1 point of damage. (Critical fumble.)  The
beast tried to bite the Cavalier, but it missed; it's tail strike did not
miss, but killed his horse and stunned him.  The thing then looked around at
Navero. \\

\vspace*{-0.1in}
\begin{description}
\item[Rizudo:] ``We can't let it kill the medic!  Wizard-bitch!  Zap it again!  And
	 you, whats-her-face, do something or get your ass out of here.''

\item[Dania:] ``Fuck you, asshole.  Get in there and do something with that sword.''

\item[Rizudo:] ``You want to see my sword in action?  Now is harldy the time, but 
	 I'll take you up on it later.  What do you use that staff for,
	 anyway?''

\item[The Assassin:] Considers killing Rizudo, decides against it.
\end{description}

The Cavalier roused himself, and once again valiantly took to the
fray.  He struck twice, with two longswords, and miraculously both found
soft spots in the thing's scarred scales, wounding it!  Navero struck again,
and this time merely hit the ground beside it.  The beast then tried to bite
Navero; it succeded beyond its wildest dreams, inflicting 13 points of
damage to an otherwise inoffensive young priest.  Navero dropped with a
thump and heard no more of the mighty battle.  He woke several hours later,
to the sweet voices of his comrades in arms. \\

\vspace*{-0.1in}
\begin{description}
\item[Rizudo:] ``Look, kid.  Don't ever go charging in like that again.  You're
	supposed to be healing US.  Or do you have a thing about swinging
	your stick around?"

\item[Dania:] ``Yeah.  Leave the fights to the experts.''

\item[The Cavilier:] ``Good advice under any circumstances.  While your presence may
	      have served as a possibly useful distraction, I really did not
	      require your aid to defeat the monster.  After my first
	      strokes, all the fight seemed to leave it, so powerful was
	      my thrust.''

\item[Rizudo:] ``Yep.  There was also that poisoned dart we found in it mouth, too.''

\item[The Cavalier:] ``Tut.  Dragons are immune to poison.''
\end{description}

$$ \ast \ \ \ \ \ \ast \ \ \ \ \ \ast $$

Our ``dragon'' was actually a very old Wyvern, that had lost an eye and its
poison tail barb in past fights.  It was preying on the villagers because it
was to decrepit to catch anything else.  But to a first level party, such
beasts would seem as dragons indeed.  We found no treasure, and soon went on
our merry way. \\


Dan Parsons \ \ \ \ \ \    ``I didn't know Dragons were that rubbery.'' \\

\vspace{.3in}
{\center \Huge \bf III \\}
\vspace{.1in}

Let's see... We were attacked by a crippled old Wyvern, killed it with no
deaths, and continued on our way to the north.  Navero was the only one
seriously hurt in the encounter - he went to -4 hit points, but we play that
you must go to -10 to die, so he was merely dying, until he was bandaged
up.  He Cured Light Wounds on the Cavalier, as his religion forbade him doing
so on himself while another was hurt. The biggest problem was the Cavalier's
horse, which the Wyvern killed, leaving our mini-tank on foot.  He had to
share with Dania, the lightest person in the party, which irked him no end;
but then, he was easily irked. \\

The remainder of the journey was almost without incident.  The only
thing of note was the fact that Rizudo was a heavy sleeper. \\

\vspace*{-0.1in}
\begin{description}
\item[Rizudo:] $\ast$ Snore $\ast$

\item[The Cavailer:] Dumps a bucket of water on Rizudo.

\item[Rizudo:] ``*Glub! Huhh?  Whaza fuckes goin on?"

\item[The Cavalier:] ``A very small raincloud.  It has passed now."
\end{description}

Our Heros arrived at Swamp Keep (Yes, that was the name) and were
greeted with the customry fanfare and pomp.\\

\vspace*{-0.1in}
\begin{description}
\item[Guard 1:] ``Gor, wha' a scruffy-looking lot this is, comin' u' the road."

\item[The Cavalier:] ``Hail, good fellows!  Run and tell your Lord and Master that
	      we have arrived to rid your fair land of its infestation."

\item[Guard 1:] ``Piss off."

\item[Guard 2:] ``Are you the rat-catchers, then?"

\item[Rizudo:] ``Shut up, open the gate.  We want to see your inns, your ale, and
	your WOMEN!  After that, we wanna talk about the Orcs."

\item[Guard 3:] ``Why, whatever's going on here, Neville?"

\item[Guard 2:] ``Oh, nothing, Percy.  Some gentlemen, and a few ladies too, are here
	 and making a fuss about something.  Don't worry yourself."

\item[Guard 1:] ``Shut up!  (To Cavalier)  Who are yu?"

\item[The Cavalier:] ``For shame, lout!  Do you not recognize my device?  My house
	      is known far and wide, and has been heard of even in these
	      impoverished lands.  Come, open the gates and be quick about
	      it; you try my patience."

\item[Guard 3:] ``Oh, he's not very nice, is he?"

\item[Guard 1:] ``Look, shrimp, all I see is a miniature buffoon ridin' with some
	 little elf-bitch on an old horse..."
\end{description}

	Again, there commenced much sound and fury, signifying nothing.
Fortunately for our quest, there was more sound than fury, and we were able
to get inside (eventually).  Most of us went about practical sorts of
business - Navero went to pray, and recover from his injuries.  Rizudo, I
believe, went to find the tavern, but it was not open at that hour.  The
Assassin dissapeared for a while (The player who was running her was not
there that day.)  Dania studied spells.  The Cavalier decided to go
introduce himself to the Master of the Keep.  He had his armor repaired and
the device on his shield repainted (10gp well spent, or so he thought) and
strode forth to meet the Master, who was out on his croquet lawn at that
moment.\\

\vspace*{-0.1in}
\begin{description}
\item[The Cavalier:] Strides onto croquet lawn, plants his shield firmly in the sod
	      so the device is plainly visible.
	      ``Greeings, Lord and Master of this fine Castle."

\item[Master:] ``Oh!  My croquet lawn!  You've dented it!  Wahhh..."

\item[Courtier:] ``Oh, its alright, Eric.  Just breathe calmly, now, and relax.
	  Everything will be just fine."

\item[The Cavalier:] ``Uh... I wish to introduce myself.  I..."

\item[Courtier:] ``Not now!  Can't you see what you've done?  Get out: just go, or
	  I'll put the hounds on you!"
\end{description}

	And so the day passed for our heroes.  When night came, many of the
party retired to the only tavern, a rather miserable one.  Navero did not go
to the tavern, of course; he had gone out among the townsfolk, and happened
upon one who had wounded himself with an axe and was bleeding to death;
Navero cured the hurt, and the grateful family was only too happy to put him
up for the night.  He quietly discussed religious matters with them,
particularly their salvation and the joys of life in the Correct and
Unalterable way, and although they were very polite, most of the family
seemed to ignore him.  The only exception was their young daughter, who
payed a lot of attention to him.  While he was pleased at the opportunity to
spread the faith, she didn't really pay much attention to what he said; she
just looked at him strangely, and sat uncomfortably close, and took every
possible opportunity to touch him, which made Navero very uncomforatble.  (As
explanation, I should note that Navero has CHARISMA 13, COMELINESS 16.  The
DM rolled the young lady a LUST score of 17.)\\

	And so night passed, and morning came.\\


Dan Parsons \ \ \ \ \ \ ``Oh, you're injured!  Let me take off all your clothes..." \\

\vspace{.3in}
{\center \Huge \bf IV \\}
\vspace{.1in}


After a good nights sleep (yes --- even for Navero) we all met at the castle
gate, and went to see the Keep Master to tell him of our plans and secure
his permission in our endeavour.  At the door to his chambers, we met a pair
of his elite guardsmen.\\

\vspace*{-0.1in}
\begin{description}
\item[Guard 1:] ``Oh, It's those awful people from the gate yesterday.  Send them
	  away, please, they gave me a terrible tension headache."

\item[Dania:] ``Oh, (obsenity).  We are here to see the Lord and Master of this Keep,
	so that we can get his permission to go out and kill all the orcs in
	his lands."

\item[The Cavalier:] ``Open the doors. And do be quick about it; we haven't all day."

\item[Guard 2:] ``Orcs?  Oh, yah, them.  You in'rested in 'em, li'l lady?  They'd
	  take a real fancy to yu! (uncouth laughter) Now bugger off."

\item[Dania:] ``Why?  You don't want to loose any of your relatives?"

\item[Guard 1:] ``How did you ever know about that?"

\item[Navero:] ``Please, please listen to me.  Tales of the terrible deeds of this
	 band of pillagers have reached our ears in our own lands, and our
	 hearts do truly go out to you in your plight.  We have come here
	 with our only thought to aid you, and promise to you that, by
	 whatever means, these terrible people shall no longer trouble your
	 community with their harrasment and evil.  We beg of you, please
	 allow us to enter that we may seek the blessings of the castle
	 Lord, and ride as your emmisaries."

\item[Guard 1:] ``Oh, he's sweet."

\item[Rizudo:] ``And then we'll kill 'em all.  And we expect to be paid, too."

\item[Navero:] ``Killing them should be a last resort, one to which we fall when all
	 hope is lost."

\item[Rizudo:] ``Yeah, right.  C'mon, let us in."

\item[The Cavalier:] ``Indeed.  I am unaccustomed to being kept waiting by servants."

\item[Guard 2:] ``SHUT UP! I'm wornin' yu, be outa my sight, or I'll set tha dog on
	 ya."

\item[Dania:] ``A dog?  {\em A} dog?  Oh, watch me quake with fear!"

\item[Rizudo:] ``I'll watch you shake anytime.  Shake and bounce and quiver with.."

\item[Navero:] ``Uh.... May I please ask you to stop, um...  I mean..."

\item[Rizudo:] ``Yeah, what?"

\item[Navero:] ``Uh...  Never mind."

\item[Guard 1:] ``Oh, you've frightened him. That wasn't very nice. Your'e a brute."

\item[Guard 2:] ``SHUT UP ALL O' YU!!  Right!  Tha dog it is, then!  Rog!! Open the
	  dog's door."

\item[Guard 1:] ``Are you sure?  You know what a time we had getting him back in
	  there the last time you let him out..."
\end{description}

	The party heard the clanking of chains and the groan of wood, and
looked to the wall beside them to see another door was being opened.  A very
low growl shook the battlements, and the guard settled back with a satisfied
smirk.  We all retreated rather rapidly, except for the Cavalier.\\

\vspace*{-0.1in}
\begin{description}
\item[The Cavalier:] ``A dog, then?  I hope I can ammuse myself with it.  And after
	       that, I shall deal with another dog which lies within my view,
	       to his great sorrow, for trying the patience of..."
\end{description}

	At this point, Rizudo hit him over the head with a large block of
stone, rendering him unconcious, and we all went into a full retreat.  We
never did see the dog, and I'm not even sure there ever was one, as that
guardsman certianly did laugh a lot.  I should note that we had to get a
private room for bandaging the Cavaliers head; he is a Drow, and normally
wears his helmet constantly, and we did not wish to advertise his origins.
This altercation left us with few alternatives.  Do we go for the Orcs
anyway?  Do we leave, an hope something better comes along?  Or do we all go
our seperate ways?  Navero, of course, pointed out that we would have to go
for the orcs anyway, just because it was the only right thing to do.  He had
spoken to the family he spent the night with about the Orcs, and they seemed
supportive of the idea of someone stopping them.  Rizudo expressed the hope
that they would have enough treasure to make it all worth it, a point on 
which Dania and the Assassin agreed.\\

\vspace*{-0.1in}
\begin{description}
\item[Navero:] ``I realize that money can be useful, but it shouldn't be the only
	 motive.  Why is it that some people will risk their lives for it,
	 but not for each other?"

\item[Rizudo:] ``Thats because people aren't worth shit, Nav.  Someday you'll learn
	 that.  Take our insensible companion here..."

\item[Dania:] ``Best description of him I've heard."

\item[The Assassin:] ``Most people are useful, in one way or another, but pass away
	       after only a short time.  Truly lasting monuments cannot be
	       built on weak flesh, but must be dedicated to something more
	       lasting."

\item[Navero:] ``But..."

\item[The Cavalier:] ``Owww....  What struck me?  Was it the Dragon?"

\item[Rizudo:] ``Nope.  A very small hailstorm.  But it's gone now."

\item[The Cavalier:] ``By my troth, I do think YOU hit me.  You shall answer for it
	       right now, you unworthy..."

\item[Dania:] ``Please, lie down.  I saw quite clearly that Rizudo didn't hit you.
	It was a horrible beast that moved so fast, it was but a blur.  We
	were barely able to pull you away from it."

\item[The Cavalier:] ``I did not see it at all."

\item[Rizudo:] ``That's because you were wearing your helmet."

\item[The Cavalier:] ``Priest!  Do they speak truth?  If they do not they shall pay
	       dearly for it."

\item[Navero:] ``Ummm...  No..Ye..N..Ye...   Rizudo never touched you.  A rock did."

\item[The Cavalier:] ``A rock?"

\item[Navero:] ``A rock from the battlements."

\item[The Cavalier:] ``I was struck down by a stone that fell from the battlements?
	       Mage, I forgive you your lie.  I am ashamed to know I was
	       downed by such an ignoble accident.  It is good that you
	       thought to spare me the knowledge."

\item[Dania:] ``Right."

\item[The Cavalier:] ``Well, I must seek some way to redeem myself.  We must go to
	       the Orc den; there may I erase this failure with the blood of
	       evil creatures."

\item[Rizudo:] ``Ok."

\item[Navero:] ``Um... Do we have to kill them?"

\item[Rizudo:] ``Nav, Orcs are not going to sit down and parley."

\item[The Cavalier:] ``Yes; they are notoriously unreasonable."

\item[Navero:] (looks pensive)
\end{description}

Our heroes secured their mounts, and rode off into the swamp in the
direction the Orcs usually came from.  How easy would it be for an entire
band of Orcs to hide in a swamp?\\


Dan Parsons \ \ \ \ \ \  ``I feel bad about this.
			I wish Father Lucius were here."

\vspace{.3in}
\begin{center}
{\Huge \bf A Mariner Update \\}
\vspace{.075in}
{\large \sf \ 1990 Phil Everson. All Rights Reserved. \\}
\vspace{.3in}
\end{center}

The following is an short account of two sessions in a play by email 
(PBeM) campaign Wayne Wallace was find enough to submit to the journal.
The DM, Phill Everson, runs his campaign over the computer net from
the United Kingdom. This article is included in the journal to show
one of the many uses Guild members may make of their guest accounts on
ucrmath.\\

Campaign: mariner \\
Date:     1 Hammer, 1358DR Year of the Prince \\
Weather:  Cloudy, Cold (20), None, Light, 88.4" \\
Location: The Dock's Quarter, Waterdeep.\\

\begin{center}
\begin{tabular}{|l|rl|}
\hline
\multicolumn{3}{|c|}{DM: Phill Everson everson@cs.bris.ac.uk} \\
\hline
\multicolumn{1}{|l}{Players:} && \\
       Mortimus Arms &      Chris Thompson &estyxdb@cu.warwick.ac.uk\\
            Nevindil &        Dale Settles &ds37@hydra.gatech.edu\\
               Blade &          David Wood &arioch@wam.umd.edu\\
                 TBA &       John R Murray &murray@fsu.scri.fsu.edu\\
     Thicket Granger &      Joseph M Amato &jaa@philabs.philips.com\\
       Fost Darkwing &         Mark Little &M.C.Little@newcastle.ac.uk\\
            Philippa &       Mike Whitaker &whitaker@mdcbbs.com\\
           Jade Skye &     Robert L Holden &pyr530\%psc90\%unhd@uunet.uu.net\\
            Ssaynhar &            Ron Levy &lev0@tank.uchicago.edu\\
     Renald Telshire &       Wayne Wallace &lord\_zar@ucrmath.ucr.edu \\
\hline
\end{tabular}
\end{center}
\vspace{.2in}
\begin{center}
\begin{tabular}{|rl|}
\hline
\multicolumn{1}{|l}{Waiting:} & \\
Tim Wright &tim@delluk.uucp \\
Jason Richardson &mjolnir@ariel.umn.edu \\
Alex Newman &troll@world.std.com \\
Richard Merkle &merkle@emunix.emich.edu \\
\hline
\multicolumn{1}{|l}{Watching:} & \\
James Davenport &davenpor@cis.ohio-state.edu\\
John Iarocci &iarocci@apple.com\\
Karlheinz Eckmeier &khe@meepmeep.pcs.com\\
Matt Cohen &cohen@tramp.colorado.edu\\
Nick Clifton &nickc@perisl.uucp\\
Nick Sales &sales@cs.bris.ac.uk\\
Paul Erb &erbp\%spock\%mitel@uunet.uu.net\\
Sofus Macskassy &sofmac@porthos.rutgers.edu\\
Trent A Fisher &trent@cs.pdx.edu \\
\hline
\end{tabular}
\end{center}

First day of the new year and boy is it cold! The snow's feet deep and
unfortunately it doesn't look as if your funds are going to stretch
out 'till Greengrass and the resumption of any significant business in
this so-called metropolis of the North. OK, so it's big - very big -
but in the dead of winter there's not that much going on.\\

Last night during the end of year celebrations you heard that a ship
was recruiting crew to leave for southern waters in the next week. The
meeting place is the CookHouse hall first thing on the first day of the
new year. What a time to pick!\\

Not far to go now, CookHouse Hall should be just around this corner...
there seems to be a lot of smoke about down this end of town this
morning - must have been bonfires in last night's celebration round
here...\\

'sfunny. There's been a big bonfire here. Ah. Oh. That's were the
CookHouse Hall used to be... Oh dear ... I wonder what'll happen to
that job - hope it's not gone up in smoke with the hall.\\

There's quite a lot of city guardsmen slithering around on the ice that
has formed from the melted snow. The authorities didn't really have
much of a chance of putting it out with ordinary water and by the time
sea water could be brought to the scene the Hall was all but destroyed.
Rumour has it that a break away group of the Leatherheads - one of the
urchin gangs in the South Docks area was responsible. The guards and
the 'heads themselves are out for the culprits in force.\\

Further on down nearer the actual quayside there's a crier ringing a
hand bell, shouting, ``All interested in signing up for the Merry Belle,
heading south. The Merry Belle. Heading South. Meet at The Hanged Man
on Net Street at Noon. Hanged Man . Net Street at Noon....". He
repeats, ``All interested in.." and moves off down the quayside out of
earshot.\\

'Seems like a more sensible time...\\

By noon you're in the Hanged Man on Net Street. It's a nice warm
tavern, even if it is a triffle small. The place seems to be quite
crowded - hopefully they're not all after a job on the Merry Belle or
you'll be getting hungry again...\\

A tall dark skinned man with a black goatee beard stands up, repeatedly
bangs on a table with his flagon until the hubub quietens down and
says, ``Welcome.  Gents... and ladies of course." He smiles before
continuing, ``I'm Pzakar Hulithos from Calimshan down south as I'm
sure you can see. I'm looking for about 8 or 10 crew for my ship, The
Merry Belle.  Leaving for Baldur's Gate, Muran, Zazesspur and thence
down to Calimport. Work for your passage and a salary of 5 gold crowns
a week." He gestures towards a table with a another man of obvious
Calishite origins sits with scroll and pen ready, ``Jahal Berishnik
here, my Captain, will take your names.  We leave on the morning tide 5
days from now. Any one signing on will be expected to help load the
ship in the meantime." He pauses, ``Come on then, let's be having you."\\

There's a bit of pushing and shoving, but you manage to be one of the 9
people hired. A pretty mixed bunch, but when you've marked the ship's
papers and given the mariner's oath to complete your end of the
contract at least to the first port of call, Jahal gives you each 4
gold crowns as an advance for the time you will be loading and says he
expects to see you first thing in the morning. The hammocks in the
'Belle are available for all those who need someplace to stay before
departure.\\

In the meantime with your new found wealth you make for the bar for
some food and drink with your new companions and introduce yourself...\\

\vspace{0.2in}

Campaign: mariner\\
Date:     1 Hammer, 1358DR Year of the Prince\\
Weather:  Cloudy, Cold (20), None, Light, 88.4"\\ 
Location: The Hanged Man, Net Street, Waterdeep.\\


One of the first to the bar, squeezing nimbly between the crowds trying
to get a drink, is an attractive girl with a tanned and slightly
freckled face, a cheerful grin and a mane of wavy blonde hair which
seems determined to escape from the small silver hair-slide which is
trying to keep some of it pulled back from her face. She neatly dodges
the uninvited attentions of a burly and leeringdockhand, gets slapped
on the behind by a sailor, flashes both a winning smile, collects her
flagon of mead from the bar and sits down with the rest of the party,
swinging her slim legs up to rest her boots on the table.\\

``So," she says, taking a pull at her mug and pushing her long hair out
of her eyes with her free hand, ``...Aaah - that's better... Anyone know
anything about this Pzakar Hulithos character?" Her voice betrays the
merest trace of a Dalelands accent. ``No? Oh well, never mind." Her
green eyes sparkle mischeviously over the top of the flagon of mead.
``You guys going to tell me about yourselves, then?"\\

``Good day Lady, My name is Mortimus Arms and I worship Silvanus, The
Oak Father", pipes up a chubby, but seemingly well-muscled blonde
haired man in studded leather armour. ``What's a nice girl like you
doing in a place like this", he says, winking.\\

``Me?" She puts her hand up to brush her hair back again, mutters a most
unladylike curse and shakes the unruly mane free of its binding, before
tossing her head back and fastening the hair in some semblance of
order. ``I'm Philippa." She pauses, then grins, wickedly. ``I'm a thief."
She takes another long drink of mead, obviously enjoying the effect
this statement has on the rest of the party. ``There, that's better out
in the open, isn't it? I'm sure you were all terribly suspicious."
Philippa fiddles with one end of the thonging that holds her leather
tunic mostly closed. ``But," her voice and face turn serious, ``I only
steal things from people who won't miss them or who deserve it, and I
won't steal from my friends." The irrepressible grin comes back. ``And
since you're all going to be my friends, you'd better call me Phil,
like the rest of my friends. Anyone want me to fetch them another
drink?" So saying, she drains the last of her flagon of mead.\\

``Another Ale." ``Mead" ``Yuh, mead for me too" ``Mulled wine for me.
Something hot, if they have it - an ale otherwise" ``Shhays, jusht shome
wasser for mess."\\

The deep lisping tones of the last order attract attention to probably
the oddest member of the party, definitely bringing the group nearer to
the term 'motley' rather than just crew. There's a tall lizardman
wearing a thrown-back winter cloak standing in the shadows of the alcove
just behind Philippa. A feathered lizard's head fetish hangs off a
leather backpack harness hung at his belt.  All of his worldly
possesions are clearly in the backpack, and they don't look very
valuable, unless you plan to live in a swamp for an extended period of
time.  A nicticating membrane flickers across his eye in irritation
from the smoke as he continues, ``Hst!  Fhaive whole gold crowns ha
week!  His iss very good pay, no?  Yes?"\\

The lizardman throws out his hand in a gregarious and happy fashion to
the nearest person, a tall man with black hair and a rather heavy
shaggy beard, which has obviously not been shaved for weeks. He looks
like a drunk and down-and-out, but somehow seems to carry himself like
a man of nobility.\\

``Hah! Haye ham Ssaynhar, What iss your name?", the lizardman continues.\\

{\em (NB: Pronunciation Guide:  Ssaynhar sounds like say-yin-har, the h
being glottal, like the ch in l'chaim)}\\

``I'm Fost Darkwing. A fighter from the North.", the back haired man
replies attempting to gently extricate his hand from Ssaynhar's firm
grip. ``A pleasure to meet you, Ssaynhar. I'm sure you will be a very
useful crew member on the Merry Belle."\\

``S'my pleashurse. I do hopshe so."\\

``Ah, my dear fellow. Perhaps you could advise me on which brew is the
most refreshing? Oh... yes, of course. Renald. Renald Telshire at
your service", says a young man clad in green with a very large
well-built bow slung over his shoulder.\\

(Renald speaks, I'm afriad, in a particularly overdone English accent.
Certainly to my ears anyway! Ouch, those vowels. Phill)\\

``S'welth, I can triexs."\\

The lizardman and the Renald wander over towards the bar.\\

Philippa collects orders and money from everyone who wants another
drink, pointing out ``I didn't say I was buying, just fetching!" and
with a smile, worms her way through to the bar and then navigates her
way back with a tray full of drinks, and the correct change for
everyone.\\

``There you are," she says, settling herself back into her former
position with feet up on the table. She looks round enquiringly at the
rest of the party, green eyes sparkling. ``I suppose you want the rest
of the story, now you've got over the first bit? Well," she says,
setting her almost full tankard of mead down on the table, ``there's not
that much more to tell, really. I was born in Mistledale, and got rid
of the Dales to come to Waterdeep before they got rid of me! I'm not
too bad with a sword, I suppose--- not as good as you though.", she says
looking admiringly at some of the more obvious fighters in this corner
of the tavern before continuing, ``And I can climb walls and ropes, and
get into most places, and get out again afterwards. And I can look
after myself." The implication of this is softened by the impish smile
she bestows on the rest of the party, before leaning her chair back
against the wall and taking another draught of the inn's excellent
mead, her eyes large over the rim of the tankard.\\

``What about the rest of you?", Philippa asks.\\

``I'm Nevindil Dark", says a rather average looking half-elf. All of his
clothes are in dull earth tones - browns, greens and other non-exciting
colours. He has long hair pulled into a pony tail at the back. ``Looking
forward to going back to sea."\\

``Ah, a sea elf!", interjects Phillipa.\\

``Well, from the sea anyway", replies Nevindil after a short pause.\\

``Good day to you, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Ulfinor, or for
those of you less used to the elven tongue, please call me Blade--- I
prefer it. I too look forward to going back to the sea", says a well
tanned slenderly built half-elf with an almost courtly grace. ``I look
forward to serving on board the Merry Belle with you, kinsman Nevindil", 
he continues giving an almost imperceptible nod of his head towards the
other half-elf.\\

``Kith and kin, kith and kin", says a elf from Ssaynhar's side. ``I am
Jade Skye--- a pleasure to meet some of my... perhaps more... distant
cousins", says a full elf with honey blonde hair, green eyes and a
particularly nasty scar where his neck meets his left shoulder. He has
a cutlass at his belt and numerous daggers in sheaths on his body--- in
his boots, across his chest and other similar places.\\

There is a silence.\\

``And I'm Th, uh Granger. A good day to to you all. What was your name
again?", says a very young looking man with sandy brown hair in a brown
robe that makes him look almost like an Altar Boy.\\

Nevindil finishes his drink and goes to fetch another.\\

``Good day Sir, I see that you are also travelling on the Merry Belle
and thought that I would introduce myself. My name is Mortimus Arms and
as you can see I am also a priest like yourself. May I ask which God it
is that you worship?", says Mortimus as he pushes his way through the
group to stand next to Granger.\\

``Why, I'm a druidic devote of Silvanus like yourself. You're a priest
of Silvanus, are you not?", replies Granger.\\

The two clerics move slightly away from the rest of the group and begin
to talk seemingly of religious matters--- esoteric to the rest of the
group.\\

Over by the bar Fost has just persuaded the barkeeper to fill his
wineskin with rough house red wine and comes back with Nevindil to the
rest of the group. \\

``Are you a thief like our little vixen?", Nevindil asks Fost, laughing.\\

``No, no. I'm a fighting man who, I suppose, has just lost his way and
purpose in the world. I'm simply trying to survive--- to make a living.
Nothing mysterious, I'm afraid and definitely nothing exciting", Fost
says.\\

``Well!", says a rather educated and almost imperious female voice, ``my
name is Tar Amarinda - a weaver of spells. Certainly not a thief", she
finishes stressing the word not. She has dark hair and looks to be in
her mid-twenties and is fairly tall for a woman although the drabness
of her clothes clashes with the occasional cultured lilt of her voice.\\

``Tsh a pleashuresh, madamsc", says Ssaynhar.\\

``What's it like sailing on ships, Nevindil", asks Mortimus intently,
breaking off his ecclesiastical discussions for a while,  ``I've never
been to sea for any real length of time before."\\

``I'd imagine that we'll be hugging the coast most of the time. Should
be seeing plenty of settlements on the long journey to Baldur's Gate. A
goodly distance. You'll be having fun for the first few days, Priest,
while your hands toughen up to the ropes. I hope the weather isn't too
bad. Snow is OK, but a storm we could certainly do without," Nevindil
replies.\\

After a couple of hours of aimiable chat, drinking and eating, the
group make their way down Net Street towards the quayside.\\

The Merry Belle is a Knarr--- about 60 feet long and 20 feet wide. It
has a single mast and looks like it would have a single square sail
from the rigging. There are a few oars at the bow and stern and a
covered cabin area in the centre of the ship beneath the mast.\\

{\em (I have a postscript map/picture of the Merry Belle that some of you
with access to a postscript printer may like a copy of. Email me if you
do. Phill)}\\

There is covered space on board ship and hammocks with hooks to hang
them on. Most people get settled into their new cramped communal
quarters, but Phil heads off into town. An hour or so later she returns
sporting a new bronze hair slide.\\

There seems to be an awful lot of goods in the warehouse next to the
'Belle where it seems storage space has been rented. Mostly wood, but
some cloth and finished goods--- high quality chairs, metalwork and the
like. Looks like its going to take a few days for you all to load this
little lot!\\

{\em (I await your instructions. Some of you might want to wander around
Waterdeep during any free time you might have, converse with other crew
members etc etc. I'm sure you've plenty of ideas. Phill)}\\


\begin{center}
{\Huge \bf My Interview with Smaug \\}
\end{center}

{\sf This article was posted to rec.games.frp on January 12th, 1990 by
Craig Limber of the University of Victoria, Victoria B.C. Canada.} \\

\vspace{.3in}

\vspace{.1in}


My name is Rolaf Hanagin. By trade I am blacksmith in the town of
Hasville in the northern province of the Tekseria. What you will
find below, gentle reader, is a transcript of my conversation
with the great and infamous evil Red Dragon, Smaug. What
possessed me to interview Smaug only the Gods will ever know and
understand. At any rate, I did arrange for the interview and
somehow managed to survive it. \\

In the year 77070, Smaug was making some raids near my home
during the summer. We were all afraid of him and the King had
promised we would be protected from Smaug's attentions. We all
know how much water such a promise would hold. Anyways, this last
visit was the first in almost 200 years. It had been so long that
the name Smaug was something we told our children if we wanted to
them to behave; 'Smaug'll getcha if you don't go to bed right
now!'  I would not have believed it myself had I not been witness
to the dragon packing off half of my Chlen herd not six weeks
ago. Outside of my usual terror, anger and feeling of
helplessness, I could not help but be overcome with a sense of
wonder at this terrible creature that has struck fear into the
hearts of so many. Three weeks after the above incident, I
realized I could not overcome this mixed sense of curiosity and
apprehension until I confronted Smaug, face to teeth. It was then
I decided, that by Hell or high water, I was going to have a talk
with him, just because. \\

Getting the interview was suprisingly easy. I just walked out
into my field with 6 Chlen from the cave where I was hiding them
and burnt a very large message into the field: 'Smaug, I would
like to talk to you.' I left the Chlen tied to a post together in
a loop. Looking back on it, I still wonder what made me do such a
really DUMB thing. Three days after, while I was in bed, Smaug
came to visit. \\

I woke up to a huge voice bellowing for whoever wrote this
message to come out. Naturally, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
But, after getting a hold of myself, I managed to overcome my
fear and took some paper, a lamp and some quills outside to get
it over with. \\

I left my home just at the moment he had finished off the last of
the Chlen beasts. This rather impressed me since each weighs
nearly 800 kg. He was very large, I figured about 30 meters from
snout to the tip of his tail was his length. He was not quite as
large in girth as I imagined. His wings were vast and when he
opened them to stretch, they covered the sky like a large cloud.
He emitted a powerful sulpherous odor that took some getting used
to. He did not, however, emit a terrible rotting-type reke that I
had expected from evil monsters. He gave off a strong red glow
which dulled my need to use the lamp to see. Below is a
transcript of our short conversation. \\

\begin{description}
\item[S:] Are you the one that wrote that message in the field? 

\item[ME:] Yes, I am. I was hoping I could have a chance to talk to you.

\item[S:] What about? 

\item[ME:] Just to learn about you. I guess this is like an interview. 

Smaug mulled this over for a few seconds. I guess he was terribly
curious about this. I had hoped, for my sake, his curiosity was
as strong as legend. 

\item[S:] Ok, why not. But before we get started, I want to ask a
question: Why are you doing this incredibly stupid thing? 

\item[ME:] I don't know, maybe because no one has done it before. 

\item[S:] All right, then. If you grovel properly, I may let you live
afterwards. Start your questions, time is blood. 

\item[ME:] How old are you, great destroyer of cities? 

\item[S:] At least 7000 years and I have no doubt I have a few years
left. 

\item[ME:] Where were you born? 

\item[S:] The word is 'hatched' you worthless little human. I was laid
by the dragoness Wespersel in the East Umbrian mountains. My male
parent is unknown to me. 

\item[ME:] Is Wespersel her truename? 

\item[S:] Yes, but she was destroyed in battle with a stinkin gold
dragon about 3000 years ago, so forget any plans of using her
truename. And, If I ever find that dork of a Gold Worm, I AM
GONNA PULVERIZE THAT GOOD-FOR-NUTTIN SCUMBAG; LIKE THIS BOULDER
HERE! 
\end{description}
\begin{center}
{\large \em (Pulverize, pulverize, pulverize)} \\
\end{center}
\begin{description}

\item[ME:] (recoiling back) I don't understand, I thought no dragons
ever felt anything for other dragons. 

\item[S:] WRONG, you munchie. About the only thing we 'BAD' dragons feel
any kind of affection for, outside of ourselves, is our mothers.
We have yet to figure out why. 

\item[ME:] Does anyone know your truename? 

\item[S:] (burp) Nope. 

\item[ME:] Why do you destroy cities and the like wherever you go? 

\item[S:] Because I CAN. 

\item[ME:] Oh, I suppose that's a good reason as any. Tell me, wonderous
mauler of the hordes, do you have a mate or mates? 

\item[S:] Well, not really. I think they would be better referred to as
'rape victims.'  (chuckle, chuckle, snort)  What about you, you
yummy cracker-liner? 

\item[ME:] No, she died years ago. 

\item[S:] Gee, what a bummer. I really feel for ya, human. (Heavy
sarcasm) I suppose its just as well, I would have probably
demanded her as a sacrifice. 

\item[ME:] I always hear dragons especially like virgin princesses more
than anything else. Why?  Do they taste better? 

\item[S:] Actually, its not the taste. We like to eat princesses mostly
because its good for our image. In addition, it really pisses off
muscular Kings, Heroes and princes. Now, THEY'RE yummy. 

\item[ME:] You are not at all what I expected, incredible calamity of
calamaties. 

\item[S:] You were expecting a blustering display of fireworks, yelling,
smoke, etc? 

\item[ME:] Actually, yes I rather was. I thought all evil dragons were
like that. 

\item[S:] I decided not to bother. I usually reserve that kind of show
for someone who can retell the tale of 'The Great Meeting With
Smaug' and get believed by those who listen to him. (Leering
close) You disappointed? 

\item[ME:] WHO, ME? NO, NO, NOT AT ALL, powerful smasher of
civilization. 

\item[S:] Good, I just wanted to be sure. Also, we are NOT evil, we are
BAD, it sounds a lot better. Now, this interview is terminated. I
heard of some magic-user to the south that needs to get beaten
on. I have decided in my infinite wisdom to let you live, for
now. Sweet dreams, little mortal. Don't forget, 'good' is a
four-letter word. 
\end{description}
It was at this point he suddenly took off and headed south. I was
very glad to finished with the interview since he was starting to
look a little hungry. All in all, it went rather well, especially
since I lived through the experience. I just kind of wished he
hadn't taken a dump on my house as he flew away.\\

\vspace{.5in}
\parindent=0pt
{
Date: Wed, 18 Apr 90 17:13:27 PDT  \\
From: cyborg (aaron paul miaullis)  \\
Message-Id: (9004190013.AA07776@ucrmath.ucr.edu)  \\
}
\begin{center}
{\Large \it Presenting \\}
\vspace{.075in}
{\Huge \bf \it the "Dreaded Dwarven Yo-Yo Gambit" \\}
\vspace{.075in}
{\large \sf \copyright \ 1990 by Aaron Paul Miaullis. All Rights Reserved. \\}
\vspace{.3in}
\end{center}

\vspace{.1in}
\parindent=50pt
		At the Friends of University of California at Riverside        
	Convention (yes, FUCRCon) that was held 3/2/90 there was a bit
	of trouble that some 6/7th level AD\&D characters got into.  \\

		They came out of a mine filled with corpses and spiders
        and crawled up a shaft leading to sunlight.  There was a monk, a
	cavalier, a dwarven fighter/cleric, a mage and other assorted types
	in the party.  When they got to the top of the shaft in thick overgrowth
        they saw a clearing twenty feet or so below them and a pack
	(15+) of troglytes (I think [I wasn't terribly awake at the time])
	with the heavy possibility of more forces and a high level mage within
        summoning distance.  There was a quick conference and all agreed
	(except the cavalier) that a frontal attack was out of the question
	because the nasties were out of spell range and would only take half
	damage from the fireball the mage had.  So, the plan was made.  \\

		The dwarf had herself tied up (in her chainmail dress) and
	lowered on a rope (with muscled calf exposed). My suggestion of
	smearing barbeque sauce on her leg was rejected.  \\

		The nasties, seeing a female dwarf dangling in the air shouting
	at them that she was so tough that she was just going to dangle there
	to prove what wimps they were, charged.  \\

		At the final second, when all the nasties were converging on
	the dwarf, the party yanked the dwarf out of there and fried the trogs.  \\

		I still think the barbeque sauce would have been a nice finishing
	touch.  \\

\parindent=4in
---with fried mental software,  \\

Aaron (cyborg@ucrmath.ucr.edu) \\

\newpage
\parindent=0in
\begin{center}
\vspace{2.5in}
{\large \bf \it FOOL TO FEED THE DRIVE \\}
\vspace{.375in}
\end{center}


\begin{center}
\parbox{4.25in}{
\em 
A hundred parsecs out, on a ship quite second rate
The engineer, McQuillin, sent the word up to the mate:
``Our engine's out of steam," he said, ``and soon our ship will die,
If we can't find a planet with fuel to feed the drive."  }

\vspace{0.4in}
\parbox{4.25in}{
\em
Now, our ship's a noble lady, and our captain, she is, too,
But our engineer is none too bright; the dimwit of our crew.
The captain said,  ``I thought you filled the tanks on Vega Five."
McQuillin just looked sheepish.  He forgot to feed the drive.  }


\vspace{0.4in}
\parbox{4.25in}{
\em
Can curses stir the gods of space who dwell beyond the stars?
If so, they surely woke up then, for we used up most of ours.
We thought we'd drift forever, lost between the stars we'd die,
And all because McQuillin bought no fuel to feed the drive!  }


\vspace{0.4in}
\parbox{4.25in}{
\em
But then the captain's eyes grew bright.  She said,  ``It seems to me
That a fusion drive burns $H_{2}O$."  McQuillin turned to flee.
``Grab him, boys, and hold him.  He's no good to us alive,
But two hundred pounds of water will feed our dyin' drive!"  }


\vspace{0.5in}
\parbox{4.25in}{
\em
So once again we fly through space, avoiding all the stars.
Who knows what ruin will take us, what evil fate is ours?
We didn't find our planet, but we'll all but one survive.
As long as we are granted some fool to feed the drive!  }
\end{center}

\parindent=3.5in
{ Jordin Kare Filk \\  
\indent to ``Fuel to Feed the Drive"  \\  
\indent by Cynthia McQuillin and Phillip Wayne   \\  }

\newpage

{\large \bf Of Ghosts and Treasure Division  \\  }
From: stehman@hubcap.clemson.edu (Jeff Stehman)  \\
Date: 14 Feb 90 00:35:59 GMT  \\
{\large \copyright 1990 by Jeff Stehman. \\}

\parindent=30pt

``It really is good to have you back, Faldwell," Arn said, slapping the
priest on the back.  ``We were wondering if you were ever going to find a
way off the Astral plane."  \\
\indent Since Sutekh's death, there had been no one to control Eldrad.
Since Faldwell's disappearance, there had been no one to keep the
arguments from getting violent. \\
\indent ``It is an excellent story, I assure you..." replied the priest. \\
\indent ``And we will undoubtably hear it many times," put in Ivan the 
Elf.  Faldwell ignored him. \\
\indent ``...But for now, there is someone I want you to meet." \\
\indent Eldrad had a funny feeling about this.  Faldwell had led them to a
meeting room in a nearby inn.  At the other end of the table stood a
figure, a woman judging by the size, cloaked and hooded, with her back
to them.  As they all shuffled in, Faldwell closed the door and leaned
his armored body against it.  Eldrad sat down at the end of the table,
allowing one hand to reach his weapons unseen. \\
	\indent ``I am the servant of Paladin Bernaldo Bravos," rasped out a male
voice.  ``It has come to our attention that Sutekh, the late servant of
my master, had a will which you, his colleagues, failed to carry out.  I
am here to collect what is due my master." \\
	\indent ``He had no will," replied Ivan.  ``But even if he did, I would
not turn anything over to someone who claims servitude to a well known
name." \\
	\indent The figure turned and, with one hand, pulled back the hood. \\
\indent 	Eldrad was impressed at the theatrics; even Ivan the
Unaffectable raised an eyebrow.  Setara muttered some profanity and
lowered her head into her hand.  Arn rubbed his eyes and took a second
look.  Poor Ivor just stood there staring, his mouth open, looking as
if he had seen a ghost. \\
	\indent But Eldrad noted that he was the sole benefactor of Sutekh's
unpleasant gaze. \\
	\indent ``What is mine, on the table, now!" the supposedly dead dark elf
hissed. \\
	\indent Neither drow faltered in their stares as Ivor hastily unbuckled
his sword and dropped the weapon on the table. \\
	\indent ``Keep it," Sutekh whispered, his gaze steady.  ``What I now wear
is better.  Nor are the potions of any consequence.  I carried them,
but they were never truly mine.  However, my dagger, my bracers, and my
ring, on the table . . . now." \\
	\indent Eldrad frowned, certain Ivan was enjoying this, but relented. 
He tossed the dagger onto the table.  With some hesitation he removed the
magical bracers and set them on the table as well. \\
	\indent ``The ring," Sutekh insisted.  \\
	\indent ``I contest your ownership of the ring.  It was a prize in our
escape from the Vault and is as much mine as yours." \\
	\indent ``Agreed; however, I believe Ivan.  You are responsible for my
will not being carried out.  Recently Faldwell and I were in . . .
another place, literally fighting for my life.  Because I was equiped
with mundane weapontry and defenses, I died in that fight.  I blame you
for that pain and I claim the ring as payment." \\
	\indent Eldrad slowly shook his head. \\
	\indent As Sutekh shook his hidden arm free of the cloak and raised the
hand crossbow, Eldrad reach for the amulet around his neck.  Both
hesitated.  Though Eldrad did not notice it, Ivan was grinning from ear
to ear. \\
	\indent ``It is only right that you die by this quarrel," Sutekh said
in drowic.  ``For it was its brother that killed me.  Drowic manufacture,
you know, and not a drop of poison." \\
	\indent Eldrad's mind caressed the word of power, ``pain," that would
trigger the amulet.  He need only close his fingers and speak to
render Sutekh harmless for some time, but Sutekh need only squeeze
his fingers to release unknow magic . . . \\
	\indent ``It is yours." \\
	\indent ``You could still kill him," suggested an obviously
disappointed Ivan. \\
	\indent Sutekh shook his head as he removed the quarrel from the
crossbow.  ``The thought did cross my mind, but I'm afraid our good
cleric would feel it necessary to revive him as he did me." \\
	\indent That diverted the party's attention to the priest, but he
put on a smug grin and said nothing.

\newpage
\parindent=0pt

{\large \bf Uses for Command Spell \\ }
From: eric@oakhill.UUCP (Eric Quintana) \\
Date: 16 Feb 90 04:58:05 GMT \\

Once in a gaming session, a lone PC cleric was being chased by
an orc inside a large empty audience chamber.  The only exit was sealed
shut at the moment, but the cleric was agile enough to always keep a
stone column or dais in between him and the orc.  The entire time he was
being chased around the room, he patiently explained to the orc what the
word ``hyperextend" means.  He repeated the explaination a couple of times
just to make sure the orc understood the word.  As soon as he had the chance,
he cast the Command ``hyperextend".  Several of the orcs limbs simultaneously
obeyed and his weapon skittered across the floor. \\

It just proves that ignorance is bliss. \\

\vspace{.2in}
{\large \bf A short and a bitch:  Glorious Death \\ }
From: stehman@hubcap.clemson.edu (Jeff Stehman)  \\
Date: 10 Feb 90 08:25:23 GMT  \\

\parindent=30pt

{\noindent Brandon and Brian fled down the rough cut tunnel, following
the lantern of Barth and the beautiful Tamarand.  The passage under the
ruins of Blackmoor terminated on a small ledge thirty feet below the
top of a cliff.  It was nearly two hundred feet to the rocks below. \\}

\vspace*{-10pt}
	Brandon and Brian arrived on the ledge even as the bard slipped
the small, rolled up carpet off his back and shook it open.  He jumped
onto the rug and was soon flying towards the top of the cliff. \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	In the distance they could hear the ringing of metal footfalls. \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	``You got anything that will stop it?" Brandon, his magical sword
having already been proven impotent, asked of Brian. \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	``Yeah," Brian replied absentmindedly as he studied the walls
and ceiling of the passage. \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	``I mean besides that." \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	Brian shook his head as a rope was dropped from above.
Tamarand, a rival in their quest and a reluctant bride-to-be whom
they had just rescued from her wedding chamber, grabbed the rope and
was pulled upwards.  Brian was pleased at how revealing her
whisper-thin wedding gown was; much more complimentary than the
priestess' usual over-modest dress. \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	``It won't kill him, will it." \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	Brian shook his head as Tamarand disappeared over the cliff. \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	The rope fell again as the stilted bridegroom tromped closer. \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	``Go," Brian said. \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	Brandon nodded and grabbed the rope.  He began to rise, although
slower than the woman. \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	Brian turned to face the dark passage and sighed.  The footsteps
were very close.  ``Whatever happened to the nick of time?" he wondered
silently.  He saw the fire in its eyes before it stepped into the light.
Then the eight foot tall bronze golem was before him.  It stopped twenty
feet away and smiled.  Slowly it raised its arms as if to embrace the
thief. \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	``COME TO ME, MY SON." \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	Brian had seen the result of that embrace among the remains of
Tamarand's Shadow Raiders.  He slowly shook his head and smiled.  ``No,"
he said quietly. ``My way." \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	Brian plucked the last of the crystals from his necklace and
tossed it at the golem's feet.  The golem's bellow was drowned out by
the concussion that blew through the passage and the roar of the
collapsing ceiling. \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	That was a once in a life time death.  It had everything.  It
was a heroic, futile gesture.  I knew very well that a rock fall wasn't
going to do more than scratch the golem's paint.  Plus it was a great
act of defiance; the ultimate flip-off.  \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	Brandon and Brian were heart-brothers.  Brandon was kind enough
to understand what was happening and not stand there arguing.  Brian had
no problem giving his life to give Brandon a slight chance to get away.  \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	There was a bard present, who would undoubtably sing the tale in
such a way that, upon hearing the tale, women would weep and men would
nod grimly.  \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	Then there was the incredible Tamarand.  How could she not fall
in love with a man who did such a heroic deed, rival or not?  Plus, she
was a 8ish level priestess to the goddess of luck.  Perhaps with her
prayers Brian would do a little better than the lowest pit of the 8th
level of hell.  \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	It had all the fixings of a great death, except one:  the gm
was a wimp.  When I said I was using the necklace of force he looked
at me like I was crazy.  \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	``You'll die!"  \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	``Gee, really?"  \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	He had me roll a saving throw for the blast, which only did 4d6
points of damage.  Brian was already down to 10 and I hadn't really
planned on trying to get out of the way, but why not?  As an
afterthought Brian successfully hit the deck and only lost 7 points.
Then the gm ruled that the blast threw Brian over the ledge and, since
he was an acrobat, had me roll vs. dex.  I did and Brian grabbed the
edge and hung on.  Wasn't much for it after that except to go along with
it.  Brian climbed, reaching the top about the same time the demon
possessed golem pushed his way through the rubble.  End of the story was
that the knife Brandon happened to have found early was bane to golems
and he waxed the beastie in no time flat.  \\

\vspace*{-10pt}
	There weren't many times I got madder at the gm than this one.
He messed up a really good death; nobody cares if you do a heroic deed
and live--it must not have been that tough after all.  It did work out
fairly well, though.  Tamarand, an npc, went off to reform the Shadow
Raiders (a bandit company) and took Brian with her as lieutenant/scout.\\

\end{document}

