HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
From: mcspikgfm@dct.ac.uk
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: Mel sees Zacharia and chats to KIrkil
Date: 5 Nov 92 19:10:41 GMT
Organization: Dundee Institute of Technology


	Mel sits at the table with her head lying flat waiting for the first
signs that the purifier she has drunk has started working. As she sits she 
hears someone shout at Littlefair .."your finest wine, my good man". This 
peaks her attention, and she hunches herself up to look at the figure at the
bar. She watched as he drank a 'PINT' of wine.....he had money obviously & he
could drink...maybe better than her.....[ADMIN: almost anyone is better than
Mel!] Hmmmmmm she thought to herself. "I'll have to meet this stranger...
wonder which room he's in?????"...Then she heard Kirkil asking her who she was
and her pride stirred within her and she slowly raised her head. 
	" I am Melandra Flametree, of the Clan Flametree, Ruling Clan of the
Vyalian Elves. Princess of my elven homeland, as you humans deem me and a 
warrioress of great renown. I am Immolater & Pyrolater, Protector of the
Trees and worshipper of the Flame. I......oh no.....". With that she curls up
into a small ball and starts to shake and shiver uncontrollably. She slips of 
the chair she was hunched up on and starts to convulse on the ground.
	After a few minutes of this strange behaviour, she slowly begins to
stop. Getting up from the floor of the Inn she looks at the worried Kirkil
and apologises. "I'm sorry, its the purifier....It sometimes does that..its
very painful". At this she starts a sequence of stretches to prevent cramp 
which gives the stunned archmage a full view of her very limber body. 
	" Pity your not a vampire, but the red eyes and the palid colour to the
skin do set you apart from your normal run_of_the_mill human, you know. As I
was saying before, I am Melandra Flametree....Adventureress...I could do with
something to do here at the moment...but what is you are going to do?. By the
way....do you know of a nice priest or preferably Priestess to conduct a small
wedding????? Or funeral if he doesnt unstiffen soon!" with that she looks
across at her 'beloved' that is tilted against a table looking even more like
a statue that had fallen over. 
	She glanced away from Kirkil at the other party at the table. "Who's
the zombie!??" She then reaches over towards Kryalla and waves it around in her
face. "Ok, Nice looking but she's a match for my 'friend' over there!"
	With that she turns back to thinking about the newcomer....money & a 
drinker...wow what a combination...ruin every time...but what fun getting 
there.

							Mel.

							Slightly Insane Elf.

	[ADMIN: sorry Zacharia....but e-mailing you bounces! ]
	[check the address you gave!!!!]
       
********************************************************************************
Melandra Flametree, Lady Wizardess      * Internet: mcspikgfm@dct.ac.uk
Princess of Vyalia & Slightly Insane Elf* Janet   : mcspikgfm@uk.ac.Dundee-Tech
"...BBBOOOOOOOOOMMMMM....FUN..hahahhah!"* Dundee Inst. of Tech., Scotland.
********************************************************************************
From: hutch@ibeam.intel.com (Steve Hutchison)
Subject: [DQ] Week 13 - Raelf: Here we are now, entertain us
Organization: Intel Corp., Hillsboro, Oregon
Date: Sun, 8 Nov 1992 08:10:11 GMT

GREEN HILLS ZONE

START

run past the palm trees

look up - there's a box in the tree

run back (my legs are a blur?) jump spin-spikes  HIT

dropped a box, has my face on it.  Smash the box

ZOWIE  what a CHARGE! feelgood feelgood feelgood

run back past palm trees, jump-spin, grab floating rings, 1,2,3,4

OOPs!  bugbomber flying at me

shooting at me  -  jump, spin-spikes, HIT IT bunny freed

run run run  box jump, smash, rings! 30! run run

duck, fish - spin-spikes, HIT IT pow! birdie freed

run run run  faster ground collapsing, jump,  spin, box!  back up.

Smash box.  RINGS!  60!  Run dive grab floating rings .... 70!

loop coming up.  Run fast fast fast around!  Tubular!

through the tunnel, spin, going fast fast fast speeeeeed

jump

the

billboard

sign

GIANT RING ------ THROUGH IT!


WARP ZONE


flying fish.  Bounce off walls.  Ping ping ping.

There they are, dozens of pyracubic diamonds, the big bad daddy papa
pyracubic diamond in the middle...   Pop the little ones, grab the big one

Pang pang pang  GOT IT

[  <<'Raelf?>>
   << we are proud of you, son.  This game-mode will enrich the family >>
   << Can I see ar'Elya again? >>
   << No, grandson. >> << NO, son. >>
   << Why did you start the vendetta?  You knew we were mates >>
   << they started it >> << We were losing credence >>

   This is wrong.  Out of order.  You're messing with me.

   << Loop_restart Initiated >>

   Forget that noise.  DebugMode On

   << PASSWORD DENIED >>

   Close B clothes mode

   << PASSWORD ACCEPTED.  Welcome to the future >>

   Status(Full) tell me now

   << LifeBuffers[1..8] occupied  LifeBuffers[9-256] disabled
      FullRegress LifeBuffer[1] Directive (Fork, regress) in effect
      Program Alternate B //pleasant dreams// functional LifeBuffers[2,4..7]
      Program Torment_Loop functional LifeBuffers[8]
      Observational Display Redirect active on buffer 3 //Surfin Safari//
      Relocation Engines in restraint mode
      Temporal Modification level 12 of 16 >>

   Way cool.  Primary readout probable future update?

   << No significant changes. >>

   Damn.  OK, back to the game. ]

GREEN HILLS ZONE

LEVEL 2

....
From: ASG102@psuvm.psu.edu (The Dreamer)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [L][TW] Luthor: Helping Moria Upstairs
Date: 9 Nov 92 17:23:54 GMT
 <1992Nov4.100112.3692@wkuvx1.bitnet> <silk.721028484@mcl>
 <1992Nov8.215545.3792@wkuvx1.bitnet> <jpesonen.103@viikki.Helsinki.FI>
 <1992Nov9.085603.3797@wkuvx1.bitnet>
Organization: Penn State University

Moria:
>   Her head seems to gain weight as time wears on, until she sits at the
>table cradling her head between her hands with her eyes closed.  After a
>moment she shakes her head and looks up.  "Excuse me, I seem to be having
>trouble keeping my eyes open."

    "My dear lady, saving me seems to have drained you far more than I had
estimated.  Are you well?  Is there anything I could do for you?"  Luthor
asked seeing the exhausted look on her face.  "Perhaps you just need a few
hours rest...certainly you will before leaving for this journey of which you
speak.  Come, let me take you to your room."

    Luthor stood by her side and helped her to her feet.  She smiled weakly at
him.  Luthor also noted that the Squerrel Rider and the Merman seemed as
though they wanted to help, but they were unable.  One because of his size
and the other due to his shape.

"Do you need help Luthor?"  Indigo asked as Luthor turned to leave.

"No.  Moria will be fine, but thanks anyway."  The two Elves, one Dark and the
other Golden, crossed the room arm-in-arm.

Luthor took her up the stairs to the second floor, and then to room 7.  Moria
took the key out of a pouch and tried to unlock the door, but dropped the
key instead.

"Forgive me, I..."

"Moria, if anyone is to ask for forgiveness, it should be me.  I am the cause
of your condition and I am in your debt.  Now, lets get you into a bed."
Not wanting to put Moria down to retrieve the key, Luthor decided to use
Shadow Magic.  He put his hand on the door knob, and while twisting it, he
said, "THIS DOOR COULD UNLOCK".  With a near silent click, the door opened.

Luthor took Moria over to the bed and set her down geltly.  He pulled back the
covers for her.  Before her head hit the pillows, she was asleep.  Finally,
Luthor left the room and locked the door with Moria's fallen key, then he
slid the key through the crack at the bottom.

"Sleep well dark one...may the shadows be your gaurdian as you dream."
Luthor returned downstairs.

     Love and Peace and Gaurdians,
             -The Dreamer-
From: tkelly@unix2.tcd.ie (Mithrandir)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [Hunters: 1]  Setting up shop.
Date: 5 Nov 92 16:16:14 GMT
Organization: Trinity College, Dublin


     Alex sat in the house of Armand the Merchant.
  They were in quiet conversation, Alex holding a small diamond in one
hand. Outside, the rest of the group sat around, waiting for their
leader to finish his work.

     "Well  ," said Alex in a low voice, "there you have it, merchant,
what do you think ?"
    The merchant reached over and took the diamond from Alex, inspecting
it with a practiced eye for such things. He reached into his pocket and
removed a small eyeglass.
   After a moment, he sat up.
  "Pah ,"he said expansively, "it is small and practically worthless for
anything except the smallest jewellry. I'll give you 200 coins, no
more."
    Armand was known for his undervaluing nature. Still, Alex didn't
think he'd say that low. No matter anyhow.
   "I think ," he began carefully, "that a figure of 10,000 would be
more appropriate, don't you. "
  Armand began to laugh. 10,000- a ridiculous sum of money for ... for
 he was looking into Alex's eyes, and Alex said in a hypnotic tone.
   "Yes, I know that it is a low price to ask for such a worthy gem, but
I require cash ."
   "Yes ... I understand " said Armand distantly.
 Later on that night, Armand had been counting his moneys, enraged. He
was missing a full 10,000 coins plus a deed to a certain house in the 
well-off city districts that he had obtained illegaly.
   He couldn't tell the Watch of the house, but he declared to them that
he had been robbed.
   Sergeant Kartal of the Watch asked him had he seen the thief.
   Armand said, nonsense, he had had no visitors at all that evening.


   Anna looked to Alex as the came out of the door of Armand's home.

   "Well ?", she said quietly.
   "My love ", he said,"we have a new home."
  In his hand he held a deed to a new house.

    "About time too ", declared Barth in a thick Rameshander accent.

  The group went to see their new house.
 
--
>>>[Mithranidir]<<<  >>>[tkelly@unix2.tcd.ie]<<<

 "I hate it when they aint been shaved ",Severn from Near Dark.
  
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: bshsiung@quip.eecs.umich.edu (Bernard Hsiung)
Subject: [R] Dariel talks with a Lady
Summary: sometimes it's real handy to be able to visit Higher Realities
Organization: University of Michigan EECS Dept., Ann Arbor, MI
Date: Mon, 9 Nov 1992 01:43:18 GMT

     Wreckage from the aftermath of the fighting was strewn about the deck of
the _Arcas_ and the cries of the dying came from all sides.

     Dariel walked a tightrope.  On one side swarmed the living, resplendent
in their rainbow hues, buzzing noisily, limbs flailing ceaselessly in a movie
playing much too quickly.  On the other side stood the dead, painted in black
and white, quietly frozen in eternity.  The division drifted from right to
left and back again as sluggishly twisting and fading ghosts slid slowly from
the line to one side or to the other.  Occasionally, a hand from the living
grasped a straggler on the line and pulled him back into full color.  Almost
as often, a hand from the living roughly shoved one of the ghosts, screaming,
into the monochromatic stillness.

     He found her, feet placed one to each side of the line, leaning over a
sailor whose body appeared to have been mauled by a large, clawed animal.

     Dariel knelt before addressing her.  He was, after all, an uninvited
guest.  "Lady, bide a moment.  I need to speak with you.  Please."

     The girl/woman looked up to see who had spoken.  Her skin was pale,
almost chalky white, her eyes dark, and her hair blacker than night.

     She seemed startled.  "I'm busy, Dariel.  What are you doing here?"

     "You're always busy, Lady."

     "Get up.  I hate that sort of foolishness--I don't own you.  So
soon...  How goes the struggle?"

     "Poorly.  There are no other Seekers and losses are great.  But
there are Guardians and Warriors still to be made."

     "That bad.  No other Seekers."  She bit her lip, then released it.
"I like it here a lot.  Is it already time to say goodbye?"

     "No.  Or I don't think so, at least.  The fighting is far away.  I
was sent to return four Archons who broke the Seal.  But you would know
better than I do, Lady, if there was a Reaverschild here."

     The ankh that dangled from a chain around her neck glinted softly as
she shook her head.  "I couldn't tell you even if I did.  You know that."

     "Well, Lady, then tell me if it is possible.  The Seal was broken
twice.  I need to know if it still holds.  I'm not a Wayfarer."

     "Very well.  It does not--cannot."

     "Thank you, Lady.  I'll be watching.  And I'll try my best."

     "Dariel?"

     "Yes?"

     "Good luck."

     Dariel had much to ponder as he returned to the physical realm, and
much to prepare for...
--
ADMIN:  The Lady, in case it is not apparent from the writing, is Death.
        I believe this particular personification of Death was created
        by Neil Gaiman in the _Sandman_ comic book, published by DC.
        Variants thereof have appeared from time to time in a.p.d-i,
        though the reasons escape me.  :-)

Comments, compliments, and complaints can be conveyed to:
Bernie Hsiung (bshsiung@eecs.umich.edu)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: jng53092@uxa.cso.uiuc.edu (Jon Gad)
Subject: [blade] A Damsel in Distress
Organization: University of Illinois at Urbana
Date: Tue, 10 Nov 1992 04:24:05 GMT

     Chelsee screamed as Coyote leaped at he with his gleaming silver fangs and
and claws.  Too terrified to move, she realized she was about to die.  She was 
therefore almost as surprised as Coyote was when sombody tackled her from
behind and knocked out of the Werewolf's way.  
     Jake the Lanternmaker, ex-Warrior and retired Adventurer stood between
Coyote and his prey, his ancient long sword gleaming in the fading sunlight.
Chelsee looked up at him in shock, surprised at the old man's strength and
poise.
     "Don't just stand there, girl.  RUN!!  Go see if you can find some of the
heroes down at the Dragon's Inn!  I don't think I'll be able to hold this
beast for very long."
     With a growl, Coyote picked himself up off the bloody pavement just in 
time to see his succulent prey fleeing down the alley, but some old fool stood
in his way.  He leaped again.
     Chelsee tore down the alley as fast as her legs could carry her as the
sounds of battle echoed between the buildings.  Without warning, the sounds
ceased, and a triumphant howl announced the victor.  Tears began to cloud her 
vision, but Chelsee ran on, leaving Grease Alley and turning towards the 
Dragon's Inn with Death close upon her heels....


ADMIN: Damned Time Distortions!  Ok, This post takes place immediately after
       my last one, but about 10-15 minutes before Gortok the Undwarf happens
       upon the mess in the alley.  And yes, Sir Tyrone the Wererabbit WILL
       be showing up soon.

Jon Gad
jng53092@uxa.cso.uiuc.edu

Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: mba@controls.ccd.harris.com (Belinda Asbell)
Subject: [Ga] Ambush in the woods....
Originator: mba@sp1
Organization: Harris Controls
Date: Tue, 10 Nov 1992 13:08:56 GMT


Khisanth sees Garriot drop and several grey figures approach.  Her new feline(?)
friend flies up into the trees as she hears several bowshots from behind her. 
The arrows down one of the figures, and she hears Alaric draw his sword and
advance.

Khisanth suddenly begins speaking very loudly, in a very strange, sibilant voice.
The words, though not understandable to anyone, form strangely regular patterns. 
(To mages, it sounds like magick, but not any magick they've heard of before...)

Khisanth's voice rises to a frightening crescendo as the wind starts to pick up,
tossing her fiery hair about her face.  "....dachnaia amreha khem!"  The front
four figures get hit by what appears to be a blast of something blue, which
knocks them flat.  People in the immediate vicinity, including, unfortunately,
Alaric, feel an odd trembling in their bodies which leaves them stunned.  They 
seem to be surrounded by an eerie blue light.

Kyleen has started tending to Garriot's wound, and Khisanth runs toward her 
stunned mate to pull him out of the way.

Zebron has since joined the fray, as have Brent, Mardan, Philippe, and Simon. 

After tending to her mate, Khisanth steps off into the woods, and those close by
hear retching sounds.


Alaric / Khisanth

-- 
=============================================================================
Belinda Asbell        +  System Administrator, Harris Controls Division
mba@ccd.harris.com    +      Any opinions presented are mine alone.
  Good judgment comes from experience.  Experience comes from bad judgment.
From: v124jw4y@ubvmsb.cc.buffalo.edu (Benjamin R Pierce)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: Re: [Ga] Ambush in the woods....
Date: 11 Nov 92 20:43:00 GMT
Organization: University at Buffalo
News-Software: VAX/VMS VNEWS 1.41

In article <Nov.11.01.20.14.1992.16994@dorm.rutgers.edu>, jgreene@dorm.rutgers.edu (Jeffrey Greene) writes...

>Not that their sightless eyes could, as the both of them fell forwards, arrows
>protruding from their backs.  The assembly of friends looked up to see that
>all of the foes that Khisanth had not taken care of had fallen to Kyleen's 
>arrows.



..however, a weak groan indicated that one of the assassins still lived.
Garriot, ignoring the still-bleeding arrow wound in his shoulder, strode
purposefully over to the wounded assassin and grabbed him by the tunic.

"Why were you trying to kill us?," he demands harshly, "Who sent you? Answer
me!"  A hand on his shoulder causes him to look up; Mardan is standing over
him.

"Easy, Garriot," he says, "I think he's under some sort of spell.  Look," he
points to the blank expression on the man's face.

Garriot nods slowly, the rage fading from his countenance.  "I think you're
right," he says.  "Can anyone besides Kyleen dispel charms? I don't think she's
up to it right now..."
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: djb6@ellis.uchicago.edu (Dennis Brennan)
Subject: Re: [R] Karl [_Arcas_] Are we there yet?
Reply-To: djb6@midway.uchicago.edu
Organization: University of Chicago Computing Organizations
Date: Thu, 5 Nov 1992 21:32:53 GMT

Smoke from the _Cote_D'Azur_ billowed high like some unlimited column
of mist.  The breeze began to push some of the smoke back over the _Arcas_,
stinging Karl's eyes as he continued to peer out of the porthole.  Through
the mist, he could make out a melee on the deck of the other ship.  Was that
Shade, that dark madman, who had engaged one of the pirates?  Whoever it
was jumped off of the pirate vessel.  The _Cote_D'Azur_ was visibly leaning
to its port side and did not look capable of withdrawing from the engagement.
Most of its felonious crew had boarded the _Arcas_, where they awaited
their brig assignments.  Other pirates appeared to be abandoning the ship
in droves like wharf rats.  Many jumped overboard and attempted to swim
to the _Arcas_, preferring incarceration to drowning.  Others clutched
bits of bouyant flotsam, hoping (presumably) to drift to the coast.

The _Arcas_, Karl noticed, seemed to be lazily circling around in a 
counter-clockwise direction.  He wondered what damn fool would pilot
the boat in such a manner until he remembered that he had been standing
on the wheel in order to see out of the porthole.  Releasing it, it began
to spin of its own accord, finally resting when the boom pointed away
from the wind.  One of the more alert crewmembers of the _Arcas_ tied
the boom to a post on the deck to stop its wild swinging.  Raising the
sail to resume the journey would be another matter...

Clutching his throbbing head, Karl's first thoughts were of dousing his
confusion and frustration (as usual) with strong rotgut.  Perhaps a bottle
of the pirates' inevitable stash might float within arm's reach?  He
spat bitterly, disgusted by his own impulse.  Mustering his resolve as only
an old veteran can, Karl committed himself to never touching another drop
of the foul spirit.  It would be hard, Karl thought, but "not nearly as
hard as trudging for thirty days through the salty mud of the Southern
Marshes," recalling a former campaign in which he served.

Puzzled by the gaps in his memory, Karl sat on the floor and tried to sort
out the events of the day.  He had spoken with a pleasant gentleman on the
sun-deck, then somehow found himself on a bench with Hazy Drifter.  No,
back up.  He remembered being locked in a box or chest.  There was smelly
laundry in the box.  Who... he remembered.  Amaan.  That execrable Rameshander
mage had locked him in his laundry chest.  Why?  He was certainly stronger
than the southerner.  How had he let him?  And why was he wearing the 
scabbard of his ceremonial sword?  Hmm.  The few disjointed images which
he recalled gave him no clues.

Stumbling towards the door (and indelicately stepping over bleeding bodies),
he attempted to seek out any members of his traveling party to ask them
a number of questions...



-- 
Dennis Brennan
djb6@midway.uchicago.edu
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: hutch@ibeam.intel.com (Steve Hutchison)
Subject: [DQ] Week 13 Valgar - Tale as Old as Time
Organization: Intel Corp., Hillsboro, Oregon
Date: Sun, 8 Nov 1992 08:17:33 GMT

[ADMIN]  This is a synthetic Valgar posting, from a sketch provided
by Ray Rich.  Ray, you're working too hard.

----

<Valgar was in a gossamer daydream spun of steel and crystal>

Taryn kissed his eyelids, waking him.  Her beauty in this intimate setting
was even more delicate and etherial than in her usual elegant court attire.
Her blue eyes met his brown eyes, and she stroked his shock of early-gray
hair.  "Valerius, you were having that nightmare again."

He shook his head.  "The Beast dream?"

"Yes, beloved.  Please, take the potion again, it will help you forget."

"I don't want to forget, Taryn love.  There's got to be a clue to the
mystery, and Kane is still at large."

"You know that when Frederik was killed, that the priests found you there,
fighting with the thing that killed him.  I don't know why they identified
it as Kane, but you did manage to injure it, and you saved me."

Valerius sat up, the sunlight splashing over his smooth unscarred body,
hardened by years of soldiering, yet still youthful.  His wrists ached,
too much writing of late, and she began to massage his forearms, admiring
their smooth muscularity, unblemished by the scars and injuries that the
usual soldier picked up in combat.  He had been extraordinarily lucky,
and she was very glad of it.

"Valerius, you did save me."

"I need to know, Taryn.  I need to know so I can protect you, protect our
kingdom, protect our sons."

"Beloved, you still feel guilty."  She smoothed his brow, and he returned
the gesture with a kiss.

"Yes."

"But Frederick sent me to you, he chose you to father the children that
he could not.  He declared you his adopted heir, even before he knew that he
was dying from the lethis-bough drug."

"I know.  But it still feels like betrayal."

"Oh, but he took such pleasure in knowing we were happy together."

"True."  He took her in his arms, kissed her deeply.  They fell back
together on the bed, and their passion grew hot.

...

Taryn kissed his eyelids, waking him...