PLAYER 1 - Anatanu

Hail Fellow Wizards,
I am Anatanu, the new Leader of the 
Minotaurs.

Welcome to all of you in this new quest against Good and 
Evil.

I was born in a time of peace in a town called Camp Jollymount. I grew
up peacefully amongst the Hill Dwarves who populated the region. I enjoyed
the life in the hills and was taught in the military arts by my father
who used to be one of the greatest Hill Dwarves leader. I was next to my
father during the great war against Arragoth and I could see how he was
leading his men. I could see him at the Fortress of Arragoth when they 
opened
the Domains of Control. I celebrated with them the elimination of the Lava
Legions and the destruction of the son of the Fire God. But my father never
let me look through the Portal of Fire. Nevertheless I heard the rumour 
later
on that Arragoth was not really dead and that he would most likely return 
one
day.




I never knew my mother but apparently she was a Minotaur Princess when 
my
father met her. She married my father in a grand ceremony to strengthen the
alliance between his Dwarves and her Minotaurss. As I heard they lived 
happily
for a little while living in the Camp Jollymount Palace. My mother became
pregnant and the whole population rejoiced. But unfortunately she died when
she gave birth to me. It was a sad moment for all the Dwarves and Minotaurs.
People tell me I look a lot like her.




In the words of my fellow Minotaurs "The time for peace has passed.
The time for war is to come. In between we shall all find out who has
the strength, cunning, willpower, and resources to name themselves
competent rulers of the lands. In alliance is power; alone we are
nothing more than bubbles on a Guidness". These words ring with truth
through most of the Minotaurs camps. So all that would go against us
will die, and all that would ally themselves with us shall be safe,
for as long as they remain true allies.


WARNING
Anyone coming against us will be dealt with accordingly. Any wrongful
or mistrustful act, especially in political matters, will be dealt with
accordingly. The Minotaurs are clearly one of the most clever races
to face on the field of battle. Our culture revolves around the warriors
and ensures only the strongest survive. We are not above pillaging your
kingdom to accumulate an invaluable supply of resources.

So please contact me at alain_hofmann@hotmail.com

Anatanu, High Lord of the Boarlands

Contact Anatanu at alain_hofmann@hotmail.com

PLAYER 2 - Shadowmage

No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

Contact Shadowmage at knyght_shadows@yahoo.com

PLAYER 3 - Draconis

No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

Contact Draconis at rogerbeaty@supanet.com

PLAYER 4 - Shrike

The armoured human trudged into the flimsy one-roomed hovel. He found the
hidden catch and waited as the ancient pulleys squeaked as the released
weights slowly lowered the hidden staircase. He descended the wide, stone
walled shaft that led downward 150 age smoothed steps and entered the huge
corridors of the hidden Lizard Kingdom. Opulent, yet forboding, the
corridors stretched into the distance, lined w/ blazing braziers, looming
suits of Lizard-fitted armour, hundreds of works of painting, sculpting,
embroidery, weaponsmithing and paced w/ intermittent double-doors of
valuable metals. The Shrike walked slowly along the corridor, awed as always
at the wealth and vibrant cultural of this masked civilization and amazed at
their ability to hide themselves from the greed and avarice of their
treacherous neighbours. He had expected to discover a backwards, vicious
people intent only on reaving and reproducing. Clever propaganda, of course,
that had been concocted by the ‘good’ races of sly elves, greedy dwarves and
selfish humans. He knew that now. Rather than have their wonderful works
looted or destroyed by the wanton appetites of the humans, the lizards
devised a strategy. Their people hunted, scattered and enslaved by the
tenacious evil of the fanatical elves. Their wealth gobbled up by the
insatiable urges of the banal dwarves. The lizards chose to hide their
magnificense beneath disorganization, sloth and primitiveness. They would
snarl and cringe before the mainlanders, pretend defeat and await the coming
of their God of Purity, who would lead them into an enlightened period of
world domination. Then they would conquer and assimilate all the races of
this world. Rather than wanton destruction as would be expected by most any
conquering army, however, their domination would be benevolent. They would
instruct all the races on the value of peace, industry and artwork but above
all, tolerance and cooperation amongst all beings. It would be a golden era
of plenty for all.

The Shrike, of course, had easily slid into the role of the Pure God. His
gleaming, beautiful lethality spoke of one type of purity, to be sure,
though perhaps not originally what the kind-hearted lizards had envisioned.
But then, perhaps it did make a certain sense that the God of Purity would
also be a living, omnipotent weapon, now that they thought of it, especially
as this Pure God was destined to lead them to rule the world. They could not
have expected the process to be painless, they told themselves.

Finally reaching his sumptuous throne room, the Shrike sank gratefully onto
a luxurious divan and poured himself a sweet, centuries old wine. As he
swirled the vintage in his parched mouth, he mused on his long past, this
present and the future that awaited him here.

Beginning on a forgotten world a long time ago (though time is very
subjective for this time-travelling, dimension-jumping wizard) he led a band
of dwarves to brief glory. He had been young and naïve then. Had seen things
in black and white, good and evil. This adolescent view had led him to leave
his young dwarven kingdom open to betrayal at the hands of the wizard
Greyhawk and his evil halflings. He would never have dreamed that the jolly
chubby halflings would have delved into the dark magics, nor that their
wizard-king was not a Gandalfian monarch, but instead, an ancient evil,
steeped in the blood of countless slaughtered worlds. This cunning mage had
sent a summoned abomination, a Dark Lord from the Pits, against him and
destroyed his fledgeling dwarven state. It was at that moment that he had
discovered his immortality. As the Dark Lord slew his Dwarven guards, the
Shrike’s escape spell had suddenly revealed itself to him, as if a hidden
door had opened in his mind and revealed a treasure room, previously
unknown.

Since then, he had come to realize that not only could he summon this spell
of dimension shifting/ time travelling whenever he was in grave danger, he
had found that he did not age. Perhaps a byproduct of the spell itself, perh
aps a separate gift from an unknown beneficient diety, he did not know. What
was obvious was the Gods had a plan, or were playing out some great game. He
had run across many of his kind in the ensueing years. The evil Greyhawk was
not the only tyrant to oppose the Shrike. Nor were all so tyrannical. Some
had shown much honour and seemed to seek the same lofty goals as the Shrike.
Wizards such as Valerien, Ordo Equestor, and many others shared a common
bond of basic decency. Some older wizards took the young Shrike under their
wing and instructed him in the ways of empire building, such as the
ever-helpful Ombra Mefita. Others such as Alodar or Saruman, pursued their
own mysterious goals. Many were plain evil, such as the malevolent Dorlas.

As this first Escape spell took hold, the Shrike left his bhen onto a stint
as leader of plainsmen on this very world in an alternate dimension.
Defeated by the Emerald Wizard and abandoned by his neighbours, Fluffy and
Alodar, he had turned to the Ogres of Sawtooth Isle led by the wizard
Saruman. But that help had arrived to late.

A time spent in the caverns of Shadowmoth, leading the Ogres of Lak. He had
played a complicated political/diplomatic game to maintain neutrality as
long as possible he had eventually been forced into battle w/ the honourable
Valerien and his old enemy greyhawk, who had assailed his battlements w/o
success but destroyed his capital one morning w/ the dreaded armageddon
spell.

He hoped his message to the Shadowmage of Ogre Isle had arrived safely. He
could not afford to become bogged down in a meaningless war w/ his closest
neighbour. He had not previouslty met the Shadowmage. He hoped this new
wizard would understand the need to remain at least neutral and recognized
the benefits of a quick alliance.

He had learned something of the magics that had initially sent him spinning
uncontrollably through time and space and alternate space in his rookie
centuries. Now, he could see patterns in the insanity and look dimly ahead
at possibilities. He had recognized the continents of this world and the
era. He had spent time in at least 2 dimensions of this place. This time
however, he could control his descent and deflected his course such that he
landed on the Isle of Diablack where he had detected a great empire. An
empire small in size but great in culture and potential. A hidden empire
located in a labyrinth of tunnels and chambers beneath the guise of a
festering swamp. The Lizard empire

Experience had taught him that the most important aspect of any empire was
it’s people. Keep the people happy and all else would fall into places.
Magical research, military power, economic power, government were all
important but would all stagnate if the people were unhappy or too heavily
recruited from. Therefore, his first building projects were a tavern to
quench their thirst and, since they were easily and cheaply made, a system
of paths through the swamp to facilitate trade.

He would concentrate on building a grand place of meeting where a true
national spirit could take hold. A library would be needed asap, also. He
knew his adversaries would be frantically attempting to learn the magical
currents by which this dimension was governed by. He could not afford to
fall behind or he would be doomed once again to fall victem to a summoned
dark lord or watch his armies wilt beneath the onslaught of Spirit Drains or
flee as his very castle melted in the incredible energies released by an
armageddon spell.

On this world, the mainlanders considered themselves a civilized culture
which could be expected to live in peace or proximity to the ‘unwashed’
races of lizard, ogre, orc and minotaur. Their arrogant hypocrasy made his
skin crawl, for he had seen the jaded sloth within which these debauched
‘civilizations’ conducted themselves. On the surface they preached honour
and truth but the Shrike had seen their true nature in the unholy gods they
worshipped in their hidden termples and he knew firsthand the evil that
dwelt in the hearts of their leaders such as the inappropriately named
Fluffy of the Amazons or Alodar of the Sandpeople.

Beyond the borders of this swamp, he had seen as he materialized far
overhead, lay tundra and arctic wastes but also a vast plain of grass. It
was too this plain that he sent his first troops, with instructions to claim
the poor tundra and arctic lands that they crossed as they made their way.
Also, he sent troops to explore the deepest tunnels and caves that
honeycombed the limestone deposits beneath this swamp.

Contact Shrike at creggec@telusplanet.net

PLAYER 5 - Hazaar

No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

Contact Hazaar at jhenson@calpoly.edu

PLAYER 6 - Takara

December twentieth, Audience Hall in Lachlan Spur

PLAYER 7 - Fluffy

From the midsts of the the swirling sands, you seem to see a tall spire
over
the next dune. After travelling for 3 weeks across these forgotten wastes,
and seeing the same things day after day, the spire is a welcomed sight, as
well as evidence of living beings. The water bags are running out, and if
you do not get to replenish them, you may never leave this area.
Hurrying forward, you reach the top of the dune. You couldn't help keep a
sigh of dismay from reaching your lips, as you find the spire is just that,
the tip of a spire, buried in sand. Whatever inhabitants would have left
eons ago, or learnt to breathe sand, an unlikely event.

 By the side of the spire, you see a wooden board. Moving forward, you brush
off some sand from the board, and read the words carved there. Hmmm ...
interesting ... it says "Fluffy waz here" in broad flowing scripts, albeit
orcish-like. There were two deep cuts across the "waz" word, as if someone
was trying to erase it. Another word can be seen above it, something like
"lies". Ah ha ! So either Fluffy was here, or Fluffy lies here. Either way,
you don't really care who was here, nor feel very interested in digging up
any corpse.

Say ! What is that thing !!! A "Chug-Chug" sound seems to come out from the
wind. You peer into the swirling sands, and lo ! there is something flying
in the sky, a mechanical contraption. It seemed to see you, and was heading
your way. Nearer it comes, and you can see it clearly now. A bulky looking
object, with something twirling on the top. How it kept aloft is a mystery,
but it seems to have something to do with that metallic looking box that is
belching out greasy smoke and giving off that "Chugging" sound. However,
what is more surprising, is that the pilot is not one of the mysterious Sand
People, but a Gnome !

The 'thopter landed in a flurry of blowing sand, and you hurry forward.
After exhausting your own small store of known Gnomish words, which
alternately asked after their health, cursing their ancestors, and
description of various sexual positions, you manage to wrangle a ride. The
'thopter lifted, after you sat on the only passenger seat. As the 'thopter
is moving as less than 15 feet off the ground, you have a pleasant but dusty
ride. Minutes later, you reach a field, where more of such thingamics are
present, in various conditions. After thanking the pilot with what you think
are salutations of his health (what was said was actually "May I happily eat
shit", due to a few mispronounced syllables), you leave the chortling pilot
rolling on the ground. Seeing what you think are Amazon People nearby, you
walk over to them ...

Contact Fluffy at promimity@va.prestige.net

PLAYER 8 - Alodar the Apprentice

*grmph* I know this feeling all too well - a new cloning loop has taken effect
once again... Seems I don't even care anymore - my GLI (Grumbling Level Index)
must have been saturated after all these 42 zillion (give or take a few
zillions) clonecarnations... Not that that grumbling ever had any effect
(except making me grumblier of course) but it was sort of satisfying starting
off a new clonecarnation with a fresh set of grumbles - and now I don't even
bother to grumble any longer... *grumble, grumble*

Ahh - now I feel better and ready to take on the challenges of a new world
yet once again! Not that these vibrations feel particularly new - this must
be one of my more frequently frequented universes - frequently frequented
clonecarnationwise of course; I myself (I? me? Well, sometimes I just HAVE to
think up a new personal pronoun which covers the concept of a clonecarnated I,
but I'll leave that to another clonecarnation I think) have never been here
before, nor anywhere else for that matter - not that it really matters *OUCH!*

*grr* Just my luck - whatever world this is, it has an uncomfortably high PPI
(Pun Penalty Index) which is decidedly harmful to a wizard of my verbose.. ehh,
verbal virtuosity level...

OK, enough of reminiscence - I guess I had better check out this world as well,
before running into something not quite as well... Fortunately magic is much
the same all over the worlds, it is only the implementations which vary a
little, so I should be able to catch up on this world's magic quite soon...

Well, this place looks quite desolate and barren - not much of a dessert to
find in this desert [*OUCH!*] so I will probably have to practice my food
improvement spells quite a lot - come to think of it, they do need some
practice... I remember a particularly unfortunate incident with a delicious
and highly rare specimen of "edible regurgitated slimeball" which quite
unexplicably was transformed into a totally disgusting "piece of cake"...
*shudder*

Strange - usually something local has arrived by now wielding either a weapon
or a sharp tongue or something completely different, and that something local
has (though sometimes only after some persuasion) usually been able to fill me
in on the blanks of the world... Guess I'd better find out for myself this
time, then... [Going into deep meditation for 42 minutes - well, ahem, usually
meditation doesn't imply snoring, but good old Alodar has picked up quite a
few interesting meditation techniques in his many clonecarnations *cough*]

Well - that was good news and bad news... The good news is that this feels
like another WoW world again, and I sort of like their magic implementations,
but the bad news is that I most definitely don't recognise this region - no
joyful rides on the backs of lightspeed plainsmen wolves in this clonecarnation
*sigh* I would almost welcome the sight of even a sand wyrm here - as my old
friend MuadDib (on another world, in another clonecarnation) showed me, even
those creatures can be ridden - though it is a far less enjoyable (and more
than considerably bumpier) experience than riding plainsmen wolves...

***RRRUMBLE!!!***

Oh no, by all holy falling cows, that IS a sand wyrm!! Now, what the [some
quite urgent and quite poignant expletives deleted] was the trick to ride them?
I'd better re-remember it quickly, or I'll spend this clonecarnation counting
the ribs of a sand wyrm - from the inside! Drat, it is totally blasted out
from my memory - call up plan B quickly *ZAP!*

Whew - thank god (or whatever he is called on this world...) that the spell
"domesticate earthworm" works also on somewhat bigger specimens... Now, the
rest should be a (somewhat bumpy) piece of cake even if I'd prefer a
regurgitated slimeball...

-Hey, you overgrown earthworm, just take me to the capital of this desert, will
 you, and I'll release you from this spell so you can live happily forever
 after [though how anyone living in, on and off sand can live happily for even
 a second, whether before or after, is beyond my comprehension]

-OK, master, hang on... Jaffna, capital of the sand people of Crynn, is about
 42 kilobumps in that direction...

[approximately 42000 bumps, each one progressively more painful than the
 previous ones, later]

-Thank you for the ride (I suppose), earthworm! Now just let me cast the spell
 "soothe a sore horse" [hmm, it was probably another animal you should soothe
 but this will have to do - I'm too dazed by pain to remember anything else]
 *ZASS!* and I'll set you free to move in that direction *PAZ!*

[More than a little more soothing and re-soothing spells later]

OK, here we seem to have the magic college of Jaffna - strange that no
sandpeople have shown up yet... Wonder if there is a vacant chair of wizardry
here as well, or if I have to vacate it before taking up my usual occupation...
Oops, better watch my steps, I almost crushed a normal-sized earthworm...

[42 perplexed minutes later]

-My sincerest sympathies, ex-wizard of Jaffna! Forgetting to include the size
 factor in a "turning oneself into a frightening-looking sand wyrm" spell is a
 severe setback indeed! I'll try to find a way to reverse the spell and
 eventually return both you and the wizardry chair to you, but for now there
 seems to be more pressing business to deal with - first I'll have to call
 back all those search parties they've sent out for you [no wonder the city
 looked deserted!] and then we'd better find a common strategy with the other
 mainland wizards to deal with the threat from the Lich masters... In the
 meantime, I hope you will be happy and contented and above all safe in that
 little lettuce bowl over there! Have a nice vacation, fella - Alodar the
 too-many-times-cloned Apprentice has dealt with Lich masters before!

All right, here is the library - now let's see where the short 42-volume
introduction to the magick of this world is... Yeah, this one looks more than
familiar;

"A Short Introduction to the Foundations of Crynn Sandpeople Magick"

Wait, there seems to be a small handwritten note glued to the last volume... ?!

"A friendly note to wizard Alodar from wizard Ordo Equester: Sandpeople hate
 puns, they prefer dry humor!"

*sigh* And my sense of dry humor has dried out several zillion clonecarnations
ago [***OUCH!!!***]

Contact Alodar the Apprentice at rwikman@ra.abo.fi

PLAYER 9 - Herd Master

LIZARD MEN
The dream sending began... Assshhhh...The time isss near. The omens light
the astral heavensss. It is time to venture forth from our reclusive
homeland, and make our place. To follow in Kilrath's footsteps...yess. He
had the right notion, but hiss timing was too early. The other wizards'
powers are growing, and now is the time...and you would do well to ssseek
him out...The dream faded.
The astral cloud banks abated before the marching of hundreds of
lizardmen warriors streaming forth from GraKilna. Blessed with tails of
epic proportions, the warriors were counted amongst the best in the land.
Yet the war long sought by the fanatical warrior hordes was long in the
waiting. These proud warriors had stayed behind as Kilrath led the bulk
of the host forth many years ago, some out of a love for homeland, yet
others due to the sagely councel of the elders. Learning the virtue of
patience and planning through the long years, the GraKilna hosts had
developed a new found awareness of the lands around them. The gods of war
were still fervently worshipped, but the frenzied headlong rush into
battle had given way to a wary sizing up of their opponents before melee
was considered. This time scouts were sent forth before the host. This
time there was a need to make blood truce with some if the host was to
make it to the grand battlefields that would decide Kalandor. This time,
it may prove to be wise if battle wasn't the first and only option.
Kosh, Chief GraKilnan Battle Druid awoke from the sending. His dream
message had been received by Ash successfully. Now the real task began.
He scribed his first missives and sent them by terradon to seek other
astral cities. His visions had prophesied that word from the other astral
dwellers was to be welcomed, as there would be enemies enough in the
future. Once overcoming the repugnant notion of dealing with other
beings, Kosh's curiosity was aroused. The first and foremost conundrum
baffling lizardman scholars was the problem of remaining erect with but
two legs, and most importantly, a lack of a tail for support. Twas no
wonder they fell over when drunk. Alas the time for questions was later.
For there was much to do...
__
SANDPEOPLE
lean back and let the servants refill your tankards. Listen to the tale
of my adventures among the mysterious inhabitants of Sanvian – the grim
sandpeople and their leader Jacekim Snow. 
Ah-yes I seem to get your attention, even Yours –Oh great Wizard. Yes
…..I have seen Sanvian and lived to tell the tale. 
It all began when I – Eraphion.Minstrel – as a young man had a small
misunderstanding involving some jewellery. When the Minotaur noble - who
claimed the ownership to these trinkets –and his friends started to
emphasize his arguments with their axes, I felt being judged unheard. Of
course, it is hard to argue ones case with half a dozen upset Minotaur
warriors - especially while sitting 60 feet up a tree.
It is easy to laugh about it now – twenty some years later but at that
moment it was not very entertaining. Just as the tree started to fall I
remembered a small item which I ..hmm g.. inhe..yes …inherited after my
dear ..hmm Uncle Taklong: It was a small piece of crystal with a
butterfly encased in it. The old scoundrel claimed it was magical and
could get a man out of trouble when he sol…ah.. showed it to me.
Since I felt I had little choice I tried the ritual prescribed. And it
worked..at least sort of. It took me away from the Minotaurs but after a
blur of light and darkness I find myself head down in a large dune, mouth
full of hot sand. As I climbed the highest dune and saw desert stretch
from horizon to horizon I realized that I was deep in the Great Western
Desert.
Let me take a sip of ale and Ill soon continue….Ahhhhh ,still after more
than twenty year the memories make me thirsty. 
Well, it did not concern me overly much. I would only use my magical
crystal and be off. But I could not find it either I lost it in landing
in the dune or it was a one-use item.
Two long days - frying under the merciless sun - and two chilling nights
- shaking from cold and fright – later I was ready to give in and welcome
death.
The only meal I had had was a desert adder I killed the first day and the
only drink was its blood. And I had preyed to every single god had ever
heard of and that is quiet a few. So I sat in the sand only wishing for a
quick and painless death ( that is wishful thinking in the Great Western
Desert ) when suddenly three tall figures appeared out of the sand. At
first I thought it was a mirage ´cause I could see several hundred steps
in the direction from where they had appeared. But when felt the tip of a
hooked dagger at my throat and smelled the poison it was coated with I
was convinced that the figures in front of me were real. And I was
relieved, either I was to be saved or at least my sufferings would end
quickly. Then I heard them speak and my blood froze. These men were
Sanvian sandmen.
You have all heard the tales of their…. refined methods of prolonging
death for intruders to their land and their ferocity in battle. Well, all
of these tales flew through my mind and I once again wished for the
hospitality of the upset Minotaur noble. As they led – rather roughly – I
had a chance to study the appearance of my captures. Each was at least 6
feet tall, wiry, with grim features. Their faces brown-baked by the harsh
sun and hardened by the ever-blowing sand are often deeply scared. They
are clad in a hirayah- a long and wide piece of cloth that covers them
from head to foot. The colour blends perfectly with the desert thus
making it impossible to see a warrior even from a few steps away – unless
he wants to be seen. From early childhood all wear the hooked -and
poisoned dagger-kahri -and most carry at least two more weapons. One
weapon is always within reaching distance. 
And then a lanky figure strolled into view and I heart sank like a fat
dwarf in sweet water. It was clear that it was Jacekim -my defender.
He was tall (but not huge as Balthor ) and seemed very young and it was
easy to see why he was called Snow. He was completely and utterly white.
No, I mean his hair was white, his skin whiter still ( as if it never
seen the sun ) and even his lips were white. What he lacked in colour by
nature he made up by his clothing.
He was clad in a green elfen tunic with long arms, black plainsman hoses
and red soft sandals ( hardly what one could call a warrior's outfit ).
But the strangest thing of all , was that he wore what the gnomes call
spectacles, on the tip of his nose and these were made of some kind of
black gemstone. Look I have seen my share of gnomes and they are strange
but I have never seen - or heard - of this large and black spectacle. And
when the duel began he just stood there, not even unshealted his kahri.
This clearly infuriated Balthor who grunted and then moved cautiously
into a battle stance, his frightening curved dagger held low. Jacekim
seemed barely aware of him as stood in the middle of the circle, not even
moving to face his circling opponent This lasted for a period of time
that seemed like a century to me but the conclusion was swift enough. The
wizard pushed his spectacles up to the bridge of his nose and looked
upwards toward the sun, Balthor- who was behind him, charged., with his
dagger ready to strike. But just as his arm moved to plunge the weapon
into the back of the green tunic, Jacekim twisted away with an incredible
speed. A punch, fast enough to shame a viper, almost stopped the huge
warrior dead in his motion then my defender stepped in close to the
warrior. What happened next, I still do not understand, Balthor flew
through the air and landed head down some good three paces outside the
circle. ( Later Jacekim tried to explain to me he had used Balthors
motion and size against him , but although he showed me how it is done I
still think it is magic). 
Several accused Jacekim for using magic but he and Balthor assured them
that he had learned this method of fighting from a book. Later that
evening, while dinning with me and my saviour, Balthor asked about the
unique way I would have died if he had won. Jacekim didn't look up from
the scroll he was reading and answered absentminded " Have You ever heard
of anyone being drowned in this desert by sweet water?" Balthor exploded
into a booming laughter but I found it far less amusing. I discovered
soon enough that the wizard had a strange sense of humor. 
The entire next year I was a guest at Jacekim´s house and got to know him
really well.
The legend tales that he was born one day that two very strange things
occurred in the desert – it snowed and the sun disappeared - that and his
whiteness –got him the name Snow. But it could as well have been
Steadfast or Wideread. He is a strange man with strange ideas – he would
have fitted right in with the Gnomes. A strong leader that is pacifistic
.. oh it is a person that does not believe in violence as a
problem-solver and forces the entire population to learn how to read is a
unique occurrence.
Jacekim is a man of very strong sense of honour and loyalty, once he
gives his word it is set in stone and nothing can make him break it and
once You win his friendship, it is up to You to break it – he never will.

Once him and I encountered twelve raiders..oh the time has flown and
night has gone far, I can tell more of my adventures, tomorrow. That is
if you can peruse me to stay. Do not be cheap and pass the hat along. 
Tales told by the bard Eraphion, member of the entertainment Guild.
AMAZONS
Mila is the fabled city of the Amazons, which is reported to be located
deep within the Hamatar Jungle on the Isle of Tikatu. Little is known of
the Amazonian people except for the large and bizarre statues of giant
man-like heads which are all too commonly found around the exterior
periphery of the jungle typically known as tikis. It is popularly thought
by many scholars of primitive cultures that these tiki statues are
worshipped as deities of nature by the Amazons; some amusing legends go
as far as to suggest that the Amazon men and women dance naked before
these idols late at night during the new moon. 
What is known about the Amazons is that they inhabit the Hamatar Jungle
and rarely venture outside of it. The members of the tribes are described
as being the most physically fit of the human species, both male and
female alike. Individual, scantily-clad and physically attractive females
of the tribes have been known to venture forth from the jungle foliage to
trade with the peaceful Plainsmen of the Ganthorian Plains. These
plainsmen maintain that the similarity of their beliefs with the Amazons,
the respect for and working with nature, has allowed for a peaceful
existence with the Amazonian tribes.
However, the plainsmen also warn outsiders to tread lightly when it comes
to the Amazons, and to never to encroach upon the Hamatar Jungle. Many
have entered the jungle, and most have never returned. The few that have
managed to return report that they couldn't find the fabled city of
Jimirilian as it blends almost perfectly with the jungle itself; all that
they found was a large collection of tiki idols, insect bites, and
quicksand. The Hamatar Jungle is populated by a large variety of venomous
flora and fauna, including giant tarantulas and cobras. As if that wasn't
bad enough, quicksand is also commonly found and it is rumored that
Amazon scouts patrol the jungle with poisoned blow-guns.
The Amazon tribal civilization is ruled by Queen Ilystar of the Cobra
Sept. She is a benevolent ruler, and bears friendly intentions towards
the plainsmen of the Ganthorian Plains who also reside on the Isle of
Tikatu. Highly religious, she takes tiki-worship seriously, and holds
regular new moon festivals of nude dancing before these tribal gods,
offering the sacrifice of exotic perfumes and extravagent foods. 
The origin of the Queen is a mystery however. During a regular worship
ritual on the holy grounds of the Jimilrilan, she mysteriously appeared
in the midst of the ceremonies and nude dancing with a tremendous flash
of light which left hair standing in mid-air and the skin tingling. The
Queen was thoroughly impressed with the Amazons she saw before her and
the festivities they conducted, and immediately declared that she was
sent by the Tiki gods to rule over the Mila. She subsequently announced
that the gods were pleased and wanted them to follow her to greater glory
for their divine will. The Amazons, being highly religious and
considering the circumstances of the Queen's appearance, were immediately
overwhelmed and accepted the stranger as Queen of the Mila. It is rumored
however by some disbelievers that the Queen is in fact a great sorceress
from some other dimension, though what her objective here is unclear to
them. So far her rule has been wise and the prosperity great, so they
were willing to go along with it. What is strange however is the Queen's
overwhelming interest in the lands beyond the oceans surrounding the Isle
of Tikatu, for the Amazons have never previously considered leaving even
the Hamatar Jungle. 
For those who wish peaceful contact with Queen Ilystar, she has decreed
that emissaries may be sent to the edge of the Hamatar Jungle but shall
intrude no further than that, awaiting contact with Amazonian scouts at
the first sign of the tiki idols. Intrusion beyond the stated boundaries
will result in a silent death of poisoned darts. Once contacted by the
Amazonian scouts, careful posturing and parlaying may proceed and you may
present your desired terms of peace. Were peaceful relations to be
established with the Amazons, the prosperous trade of raw materials
obtained only in jungle conditions would become available. This would
most notably include a wide selection and array of highly toxic poisons
and venoms which are useful in coating darts and arrows. The Queen is
also willing to hire out her poisoned blow-gunners if the offered tribute
is fair. The Queen has made it known that she seeks cartographic
information and that she is very familiar with a lot of other information
concerning the realms. 
The Amazons are a race of jungle dwelling warriors. Both their males and
females are the fittest of nearly all humans. Cities of the Amazons blend
almost perfectly into the jungle. Not even this protects them from
Arragoths' reach. The Amazons are formidable opponents, especially in
there own territory. Poison darts seem to fly from naught but trees at
any that enter their domain. Mila is the sole Amazonian City in the
Domain of Arragoth. MILA - Hidden in the jungles The great tree city of
the Amozons sits. Formed from the trees of old the Amazons rule there
domain with strength and resolve. The Wood Elves are not master here nor
any other race. This is the home of the AMAZONS and yet the Amazons are
still enslaved like all the other races on the Isle of Slaves. Arragoths'
particular hatred of the humans of this Isle has had unfortunate
consequences for all its residents. Those Amazons who refuse to work are
hunted through the trees and vines they know so well, inevitably meeting
a fiery death. Smoke raising above the tree line is an indication that a
rebellious Amazon has been caught somewhere in the vast jungle. Despite
the harsh conditions imposed by the master of this domain, the Amazons
remain fit and with keen spirits. The arrival of a user of the arts has
rekindled the spirits of the warriors, who are ready to repay the
thousands of atrocities they have suffered. Long have the people of the
Amazon been enslaved that time has come to an END!! With the coming of
the dark stranger there is new hope. Hope for freedom where once lived
only despair. He brought nothing with him but a simple robe and eyes of
fire. The time of Arrgoroth is over his words rang like a challenge
through the trees and indeed it was. Give us liberty or give us death.
The battle cry was herd. This land shall one again feel the might of the
AMAZONS. Foul races of the dark lord beware for the Amazons are on the
move. Our numbers grow. Soon, very soon the battle cry of the Amazon will
ring in the land of Arragoth. Our ancestors who walk with the trees will
guide us to victory over the tree killers. The fire god will no longer
burn our land. DEATH TO THE INFIDELS 
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------------------------------
These are the people that have come before now make way the Plainsmen
have come. The wolves are coming.

________________________________________________________________
GET INTERNET ACCESS FROM JUNO!
Juno offers FREE or PREMIUM Internet access for less!
Join Juno today!  For your FREE software, visit:
http://dl.www.juno.com/get/web/.

Contact Herd Master at rasputon@juno.com

PLAYER 10 - Savage

No Blurb Submitted As Yet.

Contact Savage at jlinn002@aol.com

Off to WOW Game Status Page.