Date: 11/25/97 1:38 PM Pacific Daylight Time
From: Skyler JC
It was well into the early morning hours when Skyler departed from a Rhydin dance club through the back door and wandered out onto the streets. His actions were spontaneous; he walked where his feet carried him. Skyler's mind was a haze, he was definitely not himself this evening. He stode down many streets, cutting through back alleys and side roads, with no designated direction. Skyler's fists began to grow empty. He had to hit something, and hit it hard. He reached down into the shadows of a dumpster, grabbed a sleeping bum by the shirt and punched him in the face. The man heaved out of his sleep and ran away, sniveling. --But Skyler was not satisfied. He made his way toward the Arena. As he approached the Arena, he peered into one of the windows. The whole place was empty, save one person--a little old lady sitting at the bar, knitting under candlelight. A sinister grin crossed his face as he walked to the front and opened the door quietly. Skyler stood in the doorway. The three small candles the woman had lit shed barely enough light change the darkness shrouding his face to shadows. The woman lifted her head and smiled at him. "Hello there, young man," she put down her knitting and adjusted her glasses, squinting. **There was absolutely nothing in the Arena that had the ability to observe what was going on now but Skyler and the woman.** Skyler moved toward her fluidly. His mind was set, the mood was perfect. "Bad timing," Skyler said as he stood before her. The old woman frowned and was never given the opportunity to say anything more. Skyler grabbed her by her white curly hair and slammed her face into the bartop. Her scream was cut off by the audiable crunch of bones that echoed when her face hit. Her glasses her crushed and the lenses were smashed into her eyeballs. Skyler held her up with one hand and plunged his fist into her head repeatedly.With a twist of his shoulders, he threw her lifeless body onto the ground like a rag doll. And then is where the fun began. He took his blades, shredding her skin in percise strips, arranging them carefully. Skyler chanted as he worked; he might had been a priest with a sacred rite. When he was done, there was not a drop of blood on him. He took the woman's body, nailed her head and both wrists into the wall by the message boards and left her dangling there, her face unrecognizable, her features distorted. Her crucifiction looked truly marvelous. He took out a piece of paper, and using one of his blades, he dipped it into the old woman's blood and wrote a message. **The piece of paper was left completely unsigned.** He tacked it onto the message boards, went to the window, opened it, and was gone.T H I S C O U L D B E Y O U R W I F E...
Murder in the Arena
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Date: 11/25/97 2:28 PM Pacific Daylight Time
From: Foxxgrrl
::reads the **unsigned** note with **absolutely no possible way of knowing who did this**, and swears loudly. Too enraged to look at the body any more, she pulls a pen from her bag and begins to write:: Enough is enough. All over Rhydin women are being killed, no, brutally and disgustingly murdered, and we can't just sit around and watch it happen. Something needs to be done. Even though this Arena is not a law-enforcing organization, there's nothing to stop us from taking matters into our own hands and finding the ::writing goes unintelligible here:: who's doing this and all the other crimes we've seen. ::as usual when she's really pissed, rips the paper as she signs:: ~Ally St. Reynolds and I don't even have a wife this could happen to!
From: Foxxgrrl
::reads the **unsigned** note with **absolutely no possible way of knowing who did this**, and swears loudly. Too enraged to look at the body any more, she pulls a pen from her bag and begins to write:: Enough is enough. All over Rhydin women are being killed, no, brutally and disgustingly murdered, and we can't just sit around and watch it happen. Something needs to be done. Even though this Arena is not a law-enforcing organization, there's nothing to stop us from taking matters into our own hands and finding the ::writing goes unintelligible here:: who's doing this and all the other crimes we've seen. ::as usual when she's really pissed, rips the paper as she signs:: ~Ally St. Reynolds and I don't even have a wife this could happen to!
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Date: 11/25/97 3:12 PM Pacific Daylight Time
From: AlexSverus
After a pleasant first night in the arena, in which he learned the basics of dueling, and started to meet some of the regulars of the arena, Alexander had got an overall impression of a very light-hearted atmosphere. People were constantly making jokes and poking fun at each other, all in the spirit of having a good time. Having finished all he could in the day of finding a pernament lodging and source of food/income, Alexander decided to stop by once again to the Arena. After passing through the mostly empty arena, he enters the large messaging area, shocked as he sees the mutilated body hanging there. Coming from a empire where executions, specifically crucifictions, are common occurance, he dismissed it as some sort of public execution, and that perhaps thefeatures were distorted from some sort of beating. That is, he did until he read the note accompanying it. The tone of the note struck him as rather appalling. " 'This could be your wife'? This person expects to commit such a heinous crime, threaten others, and get away with it? Surely the authorities will catch him. That is, if there are authorities in this land...."His voice trailed off as he began to think about his few experiences in this strange, new land. Not even recalling a trace of constablatory presence, he gathers up a mental image of a land governed by no one, where the culture lives primitively(to his standards), and people take the "law" into their own hands. His beliefs are then re-inforced by the next posted message in response to the display of the body.Nothing to back up these thoughts except mere conjecture, he posts a note, hoping to quell the rumors in his mind, and perhaps get a bit of peace of mind:Fellow members of the Arena: I am rather appalled at this incident. Though I have not been here long, after one day's encounter, plus information gathered from these very boards, it would seem to me that the arena would be a place of recreation, somewhere to get away from daily turmoils, and let loose their anger with minimal damage to others. It appears that someone has taken this a mite too far. I ask of you the following: Are there not some kind of authorities who may investigate this murder, so that the perpetraitor of these kinds of crimes may be found and punished? Without them, I sense not how you are all able to live peaceably. Is this a common occurance for the Arena? Is this a mere "dark side" to the Arena, or do most dealings in the Arena involve crime? If so, let me know so I may make haste away from this place. Yesterday, I had a very high opinion of the Arena and its inhabitants. Right now, unless I get some satisfactory answers, I will be forced to leave, and throw away all the good times I forsee myself having in what appears to be such a pleasant place.G. Alexander Severus::the stamp signifying the Senate and People of Rome appears at the bottom::SPQRHe posts and walks away from the board, moving back into the arena, awaiting the night's activities.
From: AlexSverus
After a pleasant first night in the arena, in which he learned the basics of dueling, and started to meet some of the regulars of the arena, Alexander had got an overall impression of a very light-hearted atmosphere. People were constantly making jokes and poking fun at each other, all in the spirit of having a good time. Having finished all he could in the day of finding a pernament lodging and source of food/income, Alexander decided to stop by once again to the Arena. After passing through the mostly empty arena, he enters the large messaging area, shocked as he sees the mutilated body hanging there. Coming from a empire where executions, specifically crucifictions, are common occurance, he dismissed it as some sort of public execution, and that perhaps thefeatures were distorted from some sort of beating. That is, he did until he read the note accompanying it. The tone of the note struck him as rather appalling. " 'This could be your wife'? This person expects to commit such a heinous crime, threaten others, and get away with it? Surely the authorities will catch him. That is, if there are authorities in this land...."His voice trailed off as he began to think about his few experiences in this strange, new land. Not even recalling a trace of constablatory presence, he gathers up a mental image of a land governed by no one, where the culture lives primitively(to his standards), and people take the "law" into their own hands. His beliefs are then re-inforced by the next posted message in response to the display of the body.Nothing to back up these thoughts except mere conjecture, he posts a note, hoping to quell the rumors in his mind, and perhaps get a bit of peace of mind:Fellow members of the Arena: I am rather appalled at this incident. Though I have not been here long, after one day's encounter, plus information gathered from these very boards, it would seem to me that the arena would be a place of recreation, somewhere to get away from daily turmoils, and let loose their anger with minimal damage to others. It appears that someone has taken this a mite too far. I ask of you the following: Are there not some kind of authorities who may investigate this murder, so that the perpetraitor of these kinds of crimes may be found and punished? Without them, I sense not how you are all able to live peaceably. Is this a common occurance for the Arena? Is this a mere "dark side" to the Arena, or do most dealings in the Arena involve crime? If so, let me know so I may make haste away from this place. Yesterday, I had a very high opinion of the Arena and its inhabitants. Right now, unless I get some satisfactory answers, I will be forced to leave, and throw away all the good times I forsee myself having in what appears to be such a pleasant place.G. Alexander Severus::the stamp signifying the Senate and People of Rome appears at the bottom::SPQRHe posts and walks away from the board, moving back into the arena, awaiting the night's activities.
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Date: 11/25/97 4:21 PM Pacific Daylight Time
From: QuickVar65
::He walks down the stairs quietly, and nearly stumbles as he sees the mutilated body:: What in the name of God did this? ::Uses the word "what" carefully, thinking that this was the work of some animal::
::He sees that the individual has been crucified, and looks behind him, seeing nobody else, he slowly approaches the body, inspecting it. Much of the blood dried, he gazes at the notes already written, seeing that people have been here before him, and yet haven't bothered to remove the grotesque scene. He then notices that the nasty note was left unsigned, wondering if it has some connection with the person who once posted for everyone in the
arena to die::
::He all of a sudden gets ill inside, and gets on his knees before the body, taking careful note of "this could be your wife". He tears the note off, not wanting the thought to haunt him. He looks at the bar, seeing knitting tools, and the scene where the killing obviously took place. He notes glass, tiny shards of it reflecting candlelight:: Can't be a shot glass, besides, people don't drink while they knit. ::Sees the victim of someone's
act of violence must have been innocent, for it angers him more::
::Looking down at his trembling hand holding the note, he drops it in the pool of blood under the innocent victim. Thinks he should not touch the body anymore, or else people will think he killed this person, he just stands there in awe, at who could be so violent, then runs home, needing to know Noelle is okay::
From: QuickVar65
::He walks down the stairs quietly, and nearly stumbles as he sees the mutilated body:: What in the name of God did this? ::Uses the word "what" carefully, thinking that this was the work of some animal::
::He sees that the individual has been crucified, and looks behind him, seeing nobody else, he slowly approaches the body, inspecting it. Much of the blood dried, he gazes at the notes already written, seeing that people have been here before him, and yet haven't bothered to remove the grotesque scene. He then notices that the nasty note was left unsigned, wondering if it has some connection with the person who once posted for everyone in the
arena to die::
::He all of a sudden gets ill inside, and gets on his knees before the body, taking careful note of "this could be your wife". He tears the note off, not wanting the thought to haunt him. He looks at the bar, seeing knitting tools, and the scene where the killing obviously took place. He notes glass, tiny shards of it reflecting candlelight:: Can't be a shot glass, besides, people don't drink while they knit. ::Sees the victim of someone's
act of violence must have been innocent, for it angers him more::
::Looking down at his trembling hand holding the note, he drops it in the pool of blood under the innocent victim. Thinks he should not touch the body anymore, or else people will think he killed this person, he just stands there in awe, at who could be so violent, then runs home, needing to know Noelle is okay::
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Date: 11/25/97 3:53 PM Pacific Daylight Time
From: CRYPTKlCKR
Cullen sat on the worn three legged stool of his workshop, fiddling with the Ulna of a woman found murdered weeks ago, he'd been trying his best to figure out who'd done the deed but had been too late in finding her body and had little more than broken, splintered bones to work with. His sighed disgustedly and tossed the bone onto the table. Suddenly a roaring pain filled his head, as if someone had struck him full force on the skull with a club. Lurching to the side he crumpled to the floor, screaming in a high pitched voice and holding his head. The world was white noise.It had happened again, another sensless killing. A few hours later he was woken by the rough shaking of DedDedMax, one of his undead servants. "Mashter? Maxsh heard yoush shcreaming...meesh find yoush on the floor...wahsh wrong?" The piece of lip and few teeth he lost in the verbal exchange went unnoticed to both as Cullen groggily sat up and whimpered. "It's happened again my friend," He sighed softly. "Another innocent has been butchered, the wards I placed upon the arena told me as much...I...I donnot know who...but, but I must go..." Pushing himself erect with Max's aid The CryptKicker went through a series of chants, the Gaelic words of power sliding sweetly over his tongue as he drew forth the essence of the Graveyard where he resided. Reaching a cresendo he blurted out "Earth passage!"and raised his arms as he fell to the ground. Instead of striking the cool stone of the crypt, his body became insubstantial and slide beneath the ground. Traveling unprotected in the Etheral was dangerous, especially around the demenses of the dead but time was of the essence. He sped with all due hast toward the physical location of the Arena. Arriving, he again mumbled a phrase of power and whispered the words "True form." through his etheral lips. If any were present they would have sworn the dead had risen, for the Cryptkicker woodenly rose from the ground, bits of dirt cascading from his clothing, his normally fey blue eyes were awash green with Eldritch light. "My God!" He moaned as he saw the broken and unrecognizable body pinned to the wall like a bloody trophy. Wiping a quick tear from his eye he stepped forward and reached into his hip satchel and remove a small pin of polished bone. Pinning it to the victims bloody clothing he loving kissed the ravage cheek and called on the talismans power to teleport the body back to the crypt. That done, Cullen leaned against the wall, searching for traces of the struggle, some clue. His luck was not to his liking. "No magic involved here...simple butchery." He read the sick note written (apparently) by the killer, then a torn and hasty reply. "Such sympathy for the dead...yet that one failed to even take the body from the wall..."Seeing as how it would be counter productive to his mission to post a reply he turned to the stained wall. Casting a minor cantrip he cleaned the blood and removed the spikes. "None should see this...at least I can rob the murderer of that." He mumbled. As he turned to go he realized he could not let this go without some reprisal, some warning to the killer. Turning to the posts he romaved a relatively clean sheet and held his hand before it. His eyes flashed and his hand glowed a sickly green color, words appeared and he tacked it up.It read:~Note ye who has wrought this atrocity.....the dead tell no lies.~It was signed:Cullen Kildarby,The CryptKicker.Keeper of RhyDin's dead.
From: CRYPTKlCKR
Cullen sat on the worn three legged stool of his workshop, fiddling with the Ulna of a woman found murdered weeks ago, he'd been trying his best to figure out who'd done the deed but had been too late in finding her body and had little more than broken, splintered bones to work with. His sighed disgustedly and tossed the bone onto the table. Suddenly a roaring pain filled his head, as if someone had struck him full force on the skull with a club. Lurching to the side he crumpled to the floor, screaming in a high pitched voice and holding his head. The world was white noise.It had happened again, another sensless killing. A few hours later he was woken by the rough shaking of DedDedMax, one of his undead servants. "Mashter? Maxsh heard yoush shcreaming...meesh find yoush on the floor...wahsh wrong?" The piece of lip and few teeth he lost in the verbal exchange went unnoticed to both as Cullen groggily sat up and whimpered. "It's happened again my friend," He sighed softly. "Another innocent has been butchered, the wards I placed upon the arena told me as much...I...I donnot know who...but, but I must go..." Pushing himself erect with Max's aid The CryptKicker went through a series of chants, the Gaelic words of power sliding sweetly over his tongue as he drew forth the essence of the Graveyard where he resided. Reaching a cresendo he blurted out "Earth passage!"and raised his arms as he fell to the ground. Instead of striking the cool stone of the crypt, his body became insubstantial and slide beneath the ground. Traveling unprotected in the Etheral was dangerous, especially around the demenses of the dead but time was of the essence. He sped with all due hast toward the physical location of the Arena. Arriving, he again mumbled a phrase of power and whispered the words "True form." through his etheral lips. If any were present they would have sworn the dead had risen, for the Cryptkicker woodenly rose from the ground, bits of dirt cascading from his clothing, his normally fey blue eyes were awash green with Eldritch light. "My God!" He moaned as he saw the broken and unrecognizable body pinned to the wall like a bloody trophy. Wiping a quick tear from his eye he stepped forward and reached into his hip satchel and remove a small pin of polished bone. Pinning it to the victims bloody clothing he loving kissed the ravage cheek and called on the talismans power to teleport the body back to the crypt. That done, Cullen leaned against the wall, searching for traces of the struggle, some clue. His luck was not to his liking. "No magic involved here...simple butchery." He read the sick note written (apparently) by the killer, then a torn and hasty reply. "Such sympathy for the dead...yet that one failed to even take the body from the wall..."Seeing as how it would be counter productive to his mission to post a reply he turned to the stained wall. Casting a minor cantrip he cleaned the blood and removed the spikes. "None should see this...at least I can rob the murderer of that." He mumbled. As he turned to go he realized he could not let this go without some reprisal, some warning to the killer. Turning to the posts he romaved a relatively clean sheet and held his hand before it. His eyes flashed and his hand glowed a sickly green color, words appeared and he tacked it up.It read:~Note ye who has wrought this atrocity.....the dead tell no lies.~It was signed:Cullen Kildarby,The CryptKicker.Keeper of RhyDin's dead.
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Date: 11/25/97 11:49 PM Pacific Daylight Time
From: Perrinis
::he looks to see the note posted by Alex and laughs bitterly::
Sir,
There is no law in this land, despite the efforts of many, such as myself. This inn is the meeting grounds for individuals who would see the citizens of RhyDin ground under the heel of Anarchy because they fear having to take responsibility for such crimes as this. These brutal acts are only increasing in frequency, and still, too many people leave it to vigilantism and vengeance to repay transgressions. Thus, due to the protests of these people,
the former RhyDin Contracted Garrison, a organization which saved countless lives, is currently fighting on the battlefields of Questrion and Auravia to win a new land for those brave citizens of this unjust city that seek a home where they can erect a government by which they can defend the greater good and public safety.
Support the Garrison Territory Movement, contact the Garrison Offices in RhyDin to learn how.
Sincerely,
-General Perrinis Alabaster
From: Perrinis
::he looks to see the note posted by Alex and laughs bitterly::
Sir,
There is no law in this land, despite the efforts of many, such as myself. This inn is the meeting grounds for individuals who would see the citizens of RhyDin ground under the heel of Anarchy because they fear having to take responsibility for such crimes as this. These brutal acts are only increasing in frequency, and still, too many people leave it to vigilantism and vengeance to repay transgressions. Thus, due to the protests of these people,
the former RhyDin Contracted Garrison, a organization which saved countless lives, is currently fighting on the battlefields of Questrion and Auravia to win a new land for those brave citizens of this unjust city that seek a home where they can erect a government by which they can defend the greater good and public safety.
Support the Garrison Territory Movement, contact the Garrison Offices in RhyDin to learn how.
Sincerely,
-General Perrinis Alabaster
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Date: 11/26/97 2:01 AM Pacific Daylight Time
From: Gnimish RW
May this be noted....RhyDin is not in any way a kind, much less fair land...each fends for him or herself, and may the gods be with the one who cannot care for their own well-being. For all of you appalled by this murder know this...Your wife may well be next...*You* may well be next. Just remember this, act accordingly, and don't look to some nonexistant authority to protect you....
-Gnimish Gnimoi
Lord of House Gnimoi
Warlord of DoS
From: Gnimish RW
May this be noted....RhyDin is not in any way a kind, much less fair land...each fends for him or herself, and may the gods be with the one who cannot care for their own well-being. For all of you appalled by this murder know this...Your wife may well be next...*You* may well be next. Just remember this, act accordingly, and don't look to some nonexistant authority to protect you....
-Gnimish Gnimoi
Lord of House Gnimoi
Warlord of DoS
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Date: 11/26/97 10:16 AM Pacific Daylight Time
From: QnLuthien
News such as this travels quickly of course through the tight-nit dueling communities. It was early morning and the light filtered through the high basement windows at a peculiar angle. Each tiny particle of dust glittered in the air, bright sections of space ended in not quite square patterns on the arena floor. Luthien stepped onto one of these patterns and the arena darkened slightly.There she stood for some time, staring at the wall that had been perversely decorated with the dead. She thought about the life...lives..that were being taken for no accountable purpose other than some sick evil's amusement. And about the blatant threat that the killings were not over. She took it personal. How dare someone attempt to smother her in fear. To imply that wander freely and alone through the Arena or anywhere else might mean one's demise.....well that simply was not acceptable. Some loving husband would mourn when the woman's identity was made known. With an irritated frown, Luthien vowed that Iain would never need mourn over her. She would wander freely where she chose and when she chose and woe to 'it' who should try to steal her life. She took another stroll around the borders of the arena.....pushing back at the fear and the wondering of "how brave is too brave."That she wandered alone.....perhaps troubled her most.~Luthien
From: QnLuthien
News such as this travels quickly of course through the tight-nit dueling communities. It was early morning and the light filtered through the high basement windows at a peculiar angle. Each tiny particle of dust glittered in the air, bright sections of space ended in not quite square patterns on the arena floor. Luthien stepped onto one of these patterns and the arena darkened slightly.There she stood for some time, staring at the wall that had been perversely decorated with the dead. She thought about the life...lives..that were being taken for no accountable purpose other than some sick evil's amusement. And about the blatant threat that the killings were not over. She took it personal. How dare someone attempt to smother her in fear. To imply that wander freely and alone through the Arena or anywhere else might mean one's demise.....well that simply was not acceptable. Some loving husband would mourn when the woman's identity was made known. With an irritated frown, Luthien vowed that Iain would never need mourn over her. She would wander freely where she chose and when she chose and woe to 'it' who should try to steal her life. She took another stroll around the borders of the arena.....pushing back at the fear and the wondering of "how brave is too brave."That she wandered alone.....perhaps troubled her most.~Luthien
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Date: 11/26/97 2:53 PM Pacific Daylight Time
From: LdyAja
::Aja stopped outside of the arena. News of the murder traveled fast. Fear that anyone could be next didn't stop her day to day routines. Not did it stop her from coming here. She pushed the door open, walked inside and stopped. Aja leaned against the door frame of the empty arena, staring at the spot where the murder took place. Her thoughts filled with the many memories of her time here. Joy, laughter, pain, blood, sweat, tears...and death. The
words of the note left on the victim.."This could be your wife." had spread through RhyDin at amazing speed. Each time they were repeated, more disgust and hatred dripped from them. She shook her head slowly. No law in RhyDin? Maybe not written, but violence like this usually created a huge outcry. The women of the arena were to be protected, respected, not murdered and abused. But who was she to even say anything? Was this senseless act of horror
meant to send people scurrying from the streets at dark? To hide? To fear? Aja didn't think so and was not going to be chased from a place she loved, from people she adored, even though there are times she'd rather slap them upside the head for stupidity. This was where she wanted to be, and no one, no matter how evil, was chasing her from it. She stood up and looked around the arena::
"To hell with the murderer. God will get 'em." ::with that, she turned and walked out.::
~Lady Aja Dragonbane~~Dueler of the DoS~~General Misfit~
From: LdyAja
::Aja stopped outside of the arena. News of the murder traveled fast. Fear that anyone could be next didn't stop her day to day routines. Not did it stop her from coming here. She pushed the door open, walked inside and stopped. Aja leaned against the door frame of the empty arena, staring at the spot where the murder took place. Her thoughts filled with the many memories of her time here. Joy, laughter, pain, blood, sweat, tears...and death. The
words of the note left on the victim.."This could be your wife." had spread through RhyDin at amazing speed. Each time they were repeated, more disgust and hatred dripped from them. She shook her head slowly. No law in RhyDin? Maybe not written, but violence like this usually created a huge outcry. The women of the arena were to be protected, respected, not murdered and abused. But who was she to even say anything? Was this senseless act of horror
meant to send people scurrying from the streets at dark? To hide? To fear? Aja didn't think so and was not going to be chased from a place she loved, from people she adored, even though there are times she'd rather slap them upside the head for stupidity. This was where she wanted to be, and no one, no matter how evil, was chasing her from it. She stood up and looked around the arena::
"To hell with the murderer. God will get 'em." ::with that, she turned and walked out.::
~Lady Aja Dragonbane~~Dueler of the DoS~~General Misfit~
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Date: 11/26/97 4:09 PM Pacific Daylight Time
From: Bended Kne
::having seen the grizzly sight earlier but deciding NOT to reply at the time, the thoughts change seeing the replies that all stand on the once defaced board::::It was not the threat of "your wife may be next" that troubled him over the past days, but the mindless torment that one was going through and the sinfull shame that the murderer showed through his lack of control and his lack "testes" so to speak, that he took the role of COWARD rather than face his troubles like a man::::retrieving the already written thoughts from within his sporan and tacking the response on the top of the rest::To him that dares place idle threats apon the good people, the just people of this land:Within the walls of this hall there lies a magic deeper than the torment that your soul, and miniscule mind suffers. A magic that has the power to heal wounds, spawn love, and bridge the largest of chasms between peoples. Where all who enter are no better than those before nor those to come after.Know this that in this place you can do no harm to anyone lest you be allowed by the person you seek to harm themselves.Know this I fear NOT for any of my family and e'en less for myself. If it be fear that you wish to impart then wish again. To violate an innocent and helpless creature such as the woman you chose shows nothing more than cowardess!Make play now while the demon allows for that same demon which leads you to torture others will turn to torture you, there will be no saving you or your soul.WITH NO FEARHeath Duncan Comnnor MacCormack
From: Bended Kne
::having seen the grizzly sight earlier but deciding NOT to reply at the time, the thoughts change seeing the replies that all stand on the once defaced board::::It was not the threat of "your wife may be next" that troubled him over the past days, but the mindless torment that one was going through and the sinfull shame that the murderer showed through his lack of control and his lack "testes" so to speak, that he took the role of COWARD rather than face his troubles like a man::::retrieving the already written thoughts from within his sporan and tacking the response on the top of the rest::To him that dares place idle threats apon the good people, the just people of this land:Within the walls of this hall there lies a magic deeper than the torment that your soul, and miniscule mind suffers. A magic that has the power to heal wounds, spawn love, and bridge the largest of chasms between peoples. Where all who enter are no better than those before nor those to come after.Know this that in this place you can do no harm to anyone lest you be allowed by the person you seek to harm themselves.Know this I fear NOT for any of my family and e'en less for myself. If it be fear that you wish to impart then wish again. To violate an innocent and helpless creature such as the woman you chose shows nothing more than cowardess!Make play now while the demon allows for that same demon which leads you to torture others will turn to torture you, there will be no saving you or your soul.WITH NO FEARHeath Duncan Comnnor MacCormack
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Date: 11/26/97 10:30 PM Pacific Daylight Time
From: Occurs
::Kicks open the door at the top of the stairs, her dark green eyes sparkling with anger over the happenings at the challange. Begins to stamp down the stairs, her dark braid whipping her back as she mutters::I wish me Jeff be here...::bites the rest of her thought from her lips as she looks upon the blood soaked wall next to the message boards::::She whispers, her face paling in fear:: For ta love of ta Goddess...::Slowly approaches the salty stench of blood offending her as she reads. Fingers her wedding band and chuckles harshly as she scrawls across the bottom of one of the posts::Ta wives of ta Arena nae so easily taken
From: Occurs
::Kicks open the door at the top of the stairs, her dark green eyes sparkling with anger over the happenings at the challange. Begins to stamp down the stairs, her dark braid whipping her back as she mutters::I wish me Jeff be here...::bites the rest of her thought from her lips as she looks upon the blood soaked wall next to the message boards::::She whispers, her face paling in fear:: For ta love of ta Goddess...::Slowly approaches the salty stench of blood offending her as she reads. Fingers her wedding band and chuckles harshly as she scrawls across the bottom of one of the posts::Ta wives of ta Arena nae so easily taken
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DoS Archive
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Date: 11/27/97 8:31 PM Pacific Daylight Time
From: Red zealot
((CRYPTKICKER wrote:<<Seeing as how it would be counter productive to his mission to post a reply he turned to the stained wall. Casting a minor cantrip he cleaned the blood and removed the spikes. "None should see this...at least I can rob the murderer of that." He mumbled.>>)) Upon hearing about the grisly murder, Adeena made her way to the site of the disaster. She noted *nothing* amiss with the arena aside from the posted ranting of a lunatic and the tang of fear in the air. With a great effort she pushed down that fear and walked from the arena, one who would kill an old woman would most likely not search out game that could defend itself.
From: Red zealot
((CRYPTKICKER wrote:<<Seeing as how it would be counter productive to his mission to post a reply he turned to the stained wall. Casting a minor cantrip he cleaned the blood and removed the spikes. "None should see this...at least I can rob the murderer of that." He mumbled.>>)) Upon hearing about the grisly murder, Adeena made her way to the site of the disaster. She noted *nothing* amiss with the arena aside from the posted ranting of a lunatic and the tang of fear in the air. With a great effort she pushed down that fear and walked from the arena, one who would kill an old woman would most likely not search out game that could defend itself.