HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
From: caz@owlnet.rice.edu (HWRNMNBSOL)
Subject: [KQ] Kron [TGMOAB 1.0] Tete-a-Tete
Organization: Rice University
Date: Wed, 14 Oct 1992 04:31:39 GMT

Terry!

Cheyenne?

Yes.

......where are we?

In our minds, silly.  Where we always were.

Why are we together.

Because I wished it to be.  I can wish a lot of things, these days.

How?

Better that I just show you.  C'mon.....

DON'T TOUCH ME!!

Okay! Okay...I won't touch you, unless you want me to.  Let's go.

*****************************************************************************

                         F    L    A    S    H

Low City, some nameless dark alley.  The nighttime breeze has carried away
the shouts from the alley.  Only luck and Terry's timely intervention staved
off the Bagmen this time.  Now she's only got to lay low awhile; it will be
safe to go home if she can only stay hidden for a bit.  Problem: where to
hide?  This is not a familiar place; Terry always warned her to keep to
the streets east of the Lane of Organ-Grinders.  This must be west of there,
but where is not exactly clear.  Well, bother Terry and his paternal impulses.
There's some dark alleys up this way; maybe she can find a hidey-hole and nick
something all at the same time.....this could be a good evening after all....
Mental Photograph: Cheyenne, dirty and rain-soaked, but very much determined,
pushes off down a ripe-smelling alley.

                         F    L    A    S    H          

Some Hours Later, The Shunned Center.  It very late, and Cheyenne's very
tired, and her brain feels foggy.  Best to just keep moving and hope nothing
bad happens.  This place looks spooky, with all the ruined buildings and
dustpiles and strange carvings.  At least no Bagmen seem to have tracked
her here.  Wait...that looks like shelter.....Mental Photograph: Cheyenne
utters a silent prayer as she prepares to step into what looks like a ruined
church.

                         F    L    A    S    H

Minutes Later.   Why did I come down here oh Gods I think I blew it but now
my legs won't stop moving and I don't know where I'm going but I think my
legs do and I'm scared and OH GODS WHAT THE HELL IS THAT IT'S GOING TO EAT
ME OH GOD OH GOD OHggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg
gggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg
gggodohgodohmygoodnesswhereamiandjustWHOTHEHELLAREALLOFYOU?

No mental photograph is available.

*******************************************************************************

So.  Now you know.  What do you think?

I......

Don't look so shocked.  Besides, it's not what you think.  I'm all here,
  you know.  And more!

You are not my sister.

I am.

No.  I won't believe it.

Look into me.

no

Do it.

no

DO IT!

NOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooo............





......Terry?

...........

...did you see?

...yes.....

Who am I?

...Cheyenne.  My sister.

That's right...........

****************************************************************************

HWRNMNBSOL
From: dshaffer@andromeda.rutgers.edu (Donald A Shaffer)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [blade] Chip has bad news
Date: 12 Oct 92 14:48:08 GMT
Organization: Rutgers Univ., New Brunswick, N.J.


  Suddenly, Chip broke out the concentration that he held. "Djue 'jde !gak. 
Thgis cannot !e."  He turned to him companions, "Trou!le, there is great danger
and Trou!le.  The 'an warriors. Oh SSchi'eh."  He then told his companions
about Hendricks attack on the guardsmen and their subsequent transformation.
If he was human, anyone who watched him could have sworn he was shocked out of
his mind.  Chip' resumed his consentration to follow hendrick.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ADMIM: If you want a detailed description of what happened, mail me and I'll 
send you the copy I received from Dan Reiker (boy, talk about thread openings
:) )
______________________________________________________________________________
What, ride a horse  *     Chip'chirip
 don't you think    *     Champion of the Great Mother Queen SSchi'eh
 it's rude to play  *     AKA Don Shaffer
 with your food     *         dshaffer@andromeda.rutgers.edu
  thri-kreen saying *
*******************************************************************************
From: jpesonen@viikki.Helsinki.FI (JORMA JUHANI PESONEN (EKT))
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: Re: [R] Dariel tries to get at Amaan
Date: 12 Oct 92 07:40:00 GMT
Organization: University of Helsinki, Fac.Agric.For.


>     He followed the corridors of the ship until he reached the 
>crowded mess hall.  The patch of floor that he wanted would be right
>over there.  "Excuse me, sir.  Excuse me, madam."  Dariel crawled
>under a table surround by a variety of oddly garbed and heavily-
>armed people.  There was a sudden motion, a loud splintering sound,
>and a fist-sized hole in the deck.  Dariel knelt to look into the
>hole, and disappeared.

>     There was a bellow from below and the hole spouted flames...

The noise struck an unexpected chaos all around the mess hall. People, who 
only saw the hole started running in panic towards the door.
Merol jumped up as if he was struck by a lightning.
	"OH NO!!! Not me, dear Morgath, not me... I haven't done anythign so 
wrong to have to take part into your battle. Not me...!!!"
He jumps up and stumbles towards the door, only to bump on Agnus, who is 
walking steadily towards the hole, in which Dariel disappeared...

	Merol of Kirilin.

    JPESONEN@viikki.helsinki.fi  ///
                                ///   "Is all that we see or seem,
    There are realities        ///     But a Dream within a Dream?"
    Within realities, but     ///      Edgar Allan Poe
                     THERE ARE NO ABSOLUTES
From: shaun@csc.liv.ac.uk (Shaun Hovers)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [G] One lizardman too many...
Date: 7 Oct 92 11:45:45 GMT
Organization: Computer Science, Liverpool University


  Wanderer hears only two replies to his shout.
 "No!" comes from the Traveller standing over Glysten.
  the second is a roar and a scream followed by the appearance of
  Thorr-kan from the bushes with a live hostage. 

   A horrible smile spread across the Wanderer's face as he looked towards
  the terrified lizardman before him who now saw the bodies of his fellows
  lying butchered all around
   "It seems, creature, that you are now unnecessary..." were the Wanderer's
   words as he plunged both swords into his adversarys torso  and lifted,           holding the creature there until it's screams stopped  and he allowed the 
   corpse to fall to the floor. 

   All around is still as the group regathers, Kordane returns with his horse
   as Roger collects the others. Wanderer gathers up his bow and arrow from 
   the floor and a body, respectively, then places them back on his horse and 
    leads it to the others. As Traveller speaks he listens and sees the brand
    of chaos.  He stands watching as Traveller and Roger speak and exchange
    looks, then his look of anger re-appears as Roger mentions the Elders.
   "I bargained to be free of this." he mutters to himself. "This time I shall
    be free." 
    Turning his attension outwards once more, he hears the last words Roger          speaks and replies 
     "No, it never is easy when outsiders 'play' with your lives, but the most
     fun is to try and upset the table." That sly smile appears again. "Right,
     I'm no healer, but let me see our great leaders wound..."

               Shaun
                  'The Wanderer'
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: zweldron@ruhets.rutgers.edu (Matthew Charlap)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: Balckhawk and Ixy...
Date: 12 Oct 92 03:49:49 GMT
Organization: Rutgers Univ., New Brunswick, N.J.

Ixy pauses a moment. Hmmm.... He really got annoyed about my caution. Oh, well.
I've got time before he leaves to decide. In the mean time, I can see who's
joining him.
Ixy alters the light to a deep purple, with white speckles flitting throughout
it.  he orders another ale and relaxes, keeping an eye on his perspective
companion's table.
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: aaron@space.ualberta.ca (Aaron Humphrey)
Subject: [R] Bronwen[Arcas]: What A Hunk!
Reply-To: aaron@space.ualberta.ca
Organization: University Of Alberta, Edmonton Canada
X-Newsreader: TIN [version 1.1 PL6]
Date: Fri, 9 Oct 1992 14:38:01 GMT

Bronwen's eye is caught by a man dressed in fairly plain clothes sitting across
from Mistletoe.  Normally, because of his dress, she wouldn't have noticed him,
but he was blushing beet red at her appearance.  Oh no, another one of those.
She never could figure out why some men reacted so peculiarly to her.

The man said, "Very nice to aah, meet you, Bronwen.  I am Radan, and Tillie?
Ummm, could I talk to you sometime?  I have something I could give you fairly
soon.  And, I assume your name is Mistletoe?  Maybe sometime you could explain
that one to me too..."  Then he blushed even deeper.

The man's speech befuddled Bronwen incredibly.  Just like the others, indeed.
He couldn't even express himself clearly.  But the last part was directed at
Mistletoe...wait, Mistletoe had first introduced herself as Tillie-something to
them, but that was a long time ago.

She cast a cursory glance up and down the table.  Hmmm...that guy down there
looked cute, the one with the black stripe in his red hair, and those gorgeous
green eyes...but the woman sitting by him was staring daggers at her, in
obvious contempt.  Some people can be so snotty, she thought to herself.

Then Radan's attention was caught by a man telling stories to a group of
children a short distance away.  Bronwen caught the word "Lagan" and her
attention was caught.  She listened to the familiar story, and when she turned
to look at the storyteller...

He was gorgeous.  That long black wavy hair...she itched to run her fingers
through it.  Then he stopped the story, muttering as if in pain, something
about voices, and her heart went out to him.  When Radan invited him over to
their table, she was delighted.  The man introduced himself as Angus
Sutherland.  A good name, she decided.

"Pleased to meet you, Angus.  I'm Bronwen.  I recognized that story you were
telling, the one about Lagan?  My mother told me that when I was younger.  I'm
very pleased to meet you."

Just then Radan said, again blushing intensely, "Uhh, Bronwen?  Is that right?
Uhhm, well, I was curious, are you busy later on?..."

What kind of question is that? she wondered.  "Well, it depends.  This is a
ship, so there can't be that much to do.  I mean, there's only so much walking
around looking at the sea that one can do.  And the smell of salt may be
getting to me, a bit.  Anyway, no, I don't think my evening will be that busy,
unless someone wants to occupy it," she said with a glance at Angus.  "Why?"

--
---Alfvaen(Canadian SF Quasi-Activist)
"I'm a few bricks short of a load, but a full load always hurt my back."
   ---Barenaked Ladies
Current Album--Eight Seconds:Almacantar
Current Read--Evelyn Waugh:The Loved One
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: bshsiung@quip.eecs.umich.edu (Bernard Hsiung)
Subject: [R] Dariel aboard the _Arcas_
Organization: University of Michigan EECS Dept., Ann Arbor, MI
Date: Thu, 8 Oct 1992 20:34:46 GMT

ADMIN:  Alright!  It's about time he got out...  *grin*

     Dariel walked slowly down the corridor, carefully examining his
surroundings:  a large structure constructed of dead vegetation, a
slight rocking motion, a faintly salty smell--a boat?  No, larger.
There were seventy-something life forms in the immediate area.  A ship.
He wondered what level of technology the people possessed.  There was
a magnetic field--did they have compasses?  Sextants?  Star charts for
navigation?  Astrolabs?

     The flow of Power was confused here:  a helter-skelter mish-mash
of lay lines, star fields, god-radiance, and extradimensional sources.
There were rigid patterns holding Power (archtypes?) and idle tendrils
of mental energy (psionics?).  Were there technomages here?  There was
sufficient structure to support them--in fact, almost every Framework
Dariel had ever experienced appeared to exist in this Place.  He
sighed.  He would definitely have to talk to a practitioner or twelve
to work out the best channels for his personal use.

     Actually, now was the perfect time to return and interrogate Amaan;
he probably wouldn't be expecting a confrontation so quickly.  Dariel
frowned thoughtfully.  Who was that man with the sword whose actions had
resulted in his release?  He had forgotten his manners; he hadn't even
offered his thanks.  Come to think of it, if he had correctly evaluated
the magic-tech balance, he had left him at Amaan's mercy...  Dariel
stopped in his tracks and ran back the way he came.

--
Comments, compliments, and complaints can be conveyed to ...
Bernie Hsiung (bshsiung@eecs.umich.edu)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: tomscud@ruf.rice.edu (Thomas Reid Scudder)
Subject: The Diary of Percival the Mage, part the third
Organization: Rice University
Date: Thu, 15 Oct 1992 20:20:01 GMT

The Diary of Percival the Mage, part the third

     It is very cold here, and I can scarcely believe that I am only halfway
through the mountains.  I wonder which god I have offended, that he sent the
winter this early?  My supply of wood for my fire is running low, and I do not
know if it will last until the snow outside this small cave where I am encamped
is over.  I have just eaten the last of the meat from the mountain goat I killed
a few weeks ago, and my other supplies are also running low.  If my luck does
not change for the better, I will probably die before I see the other side of
these peaks.
     Things went fairly smoothly for the first few days of my travel.  The going
was rough, but my backpack was full of supplies, and my heart was still bright
from my time with the dwarrow.  I even had some success hunting, dropping a
few rabbits as well as the big prize:  a mountain goat which has provided
me with food ever since.  Proudfoot was none too happy carrying the meat
off the carcass, but he has been a true soldier and carried on with more
energy than I am capable of.
     It was after a week, when I was starting to hope that I would make it
through the mountains without seeing a hint of snow, that the weather started
to worsen.  Dark clouds gathered, and the temperature started dropping, making
me grateful that I had heavier clothes along to last me for the winter.  And
three days ago, the snow started.  At first, I tried to struggle through it.
But soon, I was making hardly any headway at all, and, finding this cave with
some shrubs growing around it, I stopped here, cutting down the shrubs to use
as firewood, as well as for fodder for poor old Proudfoot, who is taking
the weather worse than I am.
    Thank the gods!  The snow seems to be falling more lightly now.  As soon
as it stops, I shall be on my
From: shaun@csc.liv.ac.uk (Shaun Hovers)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [G] Interuptions..... and surprises
Date: 8 Oct 92 13:59:10 GMT
Organization: Computer Science, Liverpool University


    [ADMIN : Sorry if this is the second copy you read but I've just found 
           an awful naming error in the first so I have to correct it NOW!!]

[ADMIN: Time being the nebulous thing that it is around here, events in this
       posting may happen in a different order or not at all but here's
          my version...]

 As Wanderer volenteers to look at Glystens wound, the mysterious young woman
 called Galland reappears and moves over to the unconcious man herself. As the
  group look on, her features are replaced by those of a man who seems to be
  performing a laying on of hands. As the new Galland sits there, head bowed and
  eyes closed, Glystens eyes open, but they are not the eyes of a sane man.
  Traveller notices this and pushes the kneeling Galland out of the way as
  Glysten screams "Be they damned!!" and kicks out before standing and raising   his sword. Traveller takes the kick without moving and, as Glystens sword
   begins to throw out fire, hits the deranged warrior with his staff, forcing
  unconciousness upon him once more.

   Traveller makes a terse comment about the events, asking for guards to be
  posted while he scouts, and leaves.

     Wanderer has moved only once during this surprising turn of events, to
   stand between Galland and Glystens sword, seemingly unbothered by the threat   of the fire. When Traveller leaves, Wanderer begins to speak.
   "Roger, you'd better guard, I shall attemp to discern what foul brew our
    'leader' has been infected with. Galland - you may help if you wish.
     Thorr-kan look after your prisoner - we'll need a word with him.
     Kordane and Bran -set up camp and get a fire going"

     Without waiting for a responce, Wanderer moves over Glysten's unconcious
    body, leaving the others to decide whether to follow instructions or not...
              Shaun
                 'Wanderer'
From: cam@gu.uwa.edu.au (Cameron Neylon)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [Humph!] Happy Birthday apdi!
Date: 15 Oct 92 00:43:58 GMT
Organization: University Computer Club --- Perth, Western Australia
NNTP-Posting-Host: mullet.gu.uwa.edu.au

Just a thought that popped into my mind unbidden.

Isn't it about a year since this wonderous group was started now? Or am
I getting a little ahead of myself? Anybody have the very, very first
post and the date thereof. 

We should definitely have a party when the anniversary comes around,
perhaps something like . . . . . .



[Admin] New location: The reality bubble

High above the planet of Nexus, floats a little, absolutely huge bubble,
of reality in the middle of this fantasy ( or is it the other way round ?).
The bulb is inhabited by the supreme beings of the universe. You've heard
about the Dark Masters ( all seven of them ), about Death and Destiny, and
about the two elders bound to their perpetual game, but here reside the
absolute rulers of the universe. Some call them "authors" or  "players",
"conrtibutors", or more colloquially, "net addicts", but whatever they
are named there is no escaping their power. _They_ make the ultimate
decisions, and all the happenings are _their_ responsibility. Quantam
mechanics has no effect on them, because they _do_ know the momentum
and position of every particle in the universe. Quake in fear at the
presence of these beings.

At the moment they are having a party.

[Party]

Everybody was there, all the regulars, pcalvert, The night stalker, 344lwkc,
Thomas Kettenring  rannou, and all the others I can't remeber and the
less regulars fading in and out at regular intervals ( or irregular intervals)
depending on their whim.

All were dressed up as their favourite character, Stephen Hutchinson as 
'Raelf, Jeremy Nelson as Zia, The dreamer as  . . . well as all sorts of
people, and everybody was having a great time. Because that was the way it
was written. And so it will be written and continue to be written, forever,
and ever Amen.

-- 
Cameron Neylon  cam@gu.uwa.edu.au
I can't think of anything witty enough that people 
would really want to see it time after time after . .
From: zweldron@ruhets.rutgers.edu (Matthew Charlap)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: Re: Ixy, Steele, and those interested...
Date: 8 Oct 92 17:21:44 GMT
Organization: Rutgers Univ., New Brunswick, N.J.

sl7sg@cc.usu.edu writes:
>	"Hey, Hey!  I didn't steal anything.  I had a legitimate forged pass to
>be in the archives, and I plan on returning the page once I am finished. 
>Besides, the council has uncounted copies on other planets."

IXy thinks this over. "Hmmm... If you say so," he says with a distinct lack of
enthusiasm. "So who else have you found to join up with your group?"
From: jgreene@dorm.rutgers.edu (Jeffrey Greene)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: Re: Brighter lights and Louder sounds!!
Date: 16 Oct 92 18:26:54 GMT
Organization: Rutgers Univ., New Brunswick, N.J.

fannicm@wkuvx1.bitnet writes:

>   "RuneCaster?" she exclaims as a look of surprise crosses her face.  "You
>honor me with that which I have not earned, good sir!  A name is not a gift
>to be given or taken lightly, and I fear that I have not earned the right
>to bear a name.  I do thank you for your kindness, tho I cannot accept such
>a name."

>   Indigo and Ixy can both see, however, that their kindness is not 
>without effect.  The young drow sits higher in her seat and a sparkle has
>come into her dark blue eyes that were downcast and sad but a few moments
>before.

>> "However, I am gladdened by your desire to set things right, may you have 
>> good hunting and warm currents.  Godspeed."

>   "May you always find Sunny and Sweet Waters."

"Thank you, RuneCaster.  If you think yourself unworthy of the name, then think
of it as a title, a label, a convienient phrase," explains Indigo.

The merman, with quick and deft mental skill, locks the secret of RuneCaster
his mental probes have discovered within his mind.  Skill, not power alone,
could open it, so the secret was safe for now.

"And RuneCaster, hurry back from fixing the runes.  I would like very much
to learn what I did wrong, so as to not repeat my mistakes."

The merman weighed his next words carefully.

"In return, I would gladly instruct you in the use of your own powers, maybe
allowing you to control them, to stop the voices in your head.  You are
powerful, but untrained.  As my inexperience with runes is dangerous, so is
your inexperience with matters of the mind.  You probably never noticed the
probe, never knew I was in your mind at all."

Indigo swam in circles in his tank, wondering who he could help next.  The 
phu was interesting, but really hard to understand.  He never met an ancient
one before, but he had figured that they would have at least taken time out
to learn modern languages.

This Ixy fellow seemed helpful enough, but did he have the courage to aid the
drow, whose very name poses a threat?

The Blade sinkers seemed pleased enough, once they got over the initial shock,
that Blade was still around for questioning.  But will Tawm be pleased to see
them?

And this drow, this RuneCaster, whose name was so dangerous that it had to be
locked within his subconscious, what will become of her?  She is powerful,
but untrained, probably cursing her power instead of embracing it.  He recalled
his own lessons in screening out the psi-noise constantly around him.  He
remembered his first lessons in psionic defense, and of psionic skill.  He
thought of how his tutors had molded his mind like clay into a razor edge.  Her
mind was not formless clay, however; it was like shattered glass - could he
help her rebuild it without getting cut?

Like the tide, all of these things will come to shore in time.  And, like the
shells and crabs revealed by the lowering water, what treasures lie on
the sands of the future will only be revealed when he looked.

-jak