HDTenEightyP/NetNews huggingface dataset:
Organization: Penn State University
Date: Thu, 3 Sep 1992 17:00:35 EDT
From: <ASG102@psuvm.psu.edu>
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: Death and Destiny part 5?

     Destiny moved his dog 5 places and landed on Free Parking.  He reached to
take the money tucked under the 19th corner of the Dragons Inn board, but
Death stopped him by holding up the card that said "Red Light".
     Destiny froze in place and could only watch as Death took the play money.
She then proceeded to give it to the figure of a man in a BLACK cloak.
Destiny frowned and pushed the pop-o-matic.  The die came up with an assassin
and some blowdarts.  Since he had a free spin disc, he played it and the
assassin took affect in several places on the world/board.
     Death smiled silently and spun the needle.  It landed on "Right foot Red".
Both beings complied to these directions and contorted into the new position.
Then destiny collected his armies and began placing them on the board.
     "Lets see, I have Cormyr, The Dales, and Evermeet, PLUS reinforcements
which gives me 48 armies," he said looking over the board for a good place
to put them.  Finally, he put half in the South, near Pashar, and the other
half in the Low City.
     Death smiled again (not that she could ever stop).  She moved her bishop
to the Spitting Cobra.  As soon as she let it go, Destiny tried to run it over
with Professor Plumb, With a Dagger, In the Courtyard.  Death moved her bishop
again and agian, barely missing the Professor's attempts to corner her, but in
the end, she slipped through a wormhole and into the Dragons Inn.
     Destiny, frustrated as usual, turned over the hourglass and drew a card.
"What sound does a dog make?" he asked reading the card and snickering to
himself.
     Death was, as always, silent.

     Adorement and Harmony and Insignificant Chase,
                  -The Utopian-
From: gdscott@matt.ksu.ksu.edu (Geoffrey D Scott)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: hello
Date: 4 Sep 1992 15:08:33 -0500
Organization: Kansas State University
NNTP-Posting-Host: matt.ksu.ksu.edu

Hello would someone please send me the information needed on how to join.
I would really like to get involved. please send any other pertenent data also.
Thanks in advance.                          
				Geoff Scott A.K.A. Dragonsbane

Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: bj689@cleveland.Freenet.Edu (Mike D. Bavister)
Subject: [R] Shade enters Pashar ...
Reply-To: bj689@cleveland.Freenet.Edu (Bit & Byte)
Organization: Generican Post Office, Mail Tasting Division
Date: Mon, 31 Aug 92 16:05:44 GMT


[ADMIN: This is a proxy-post for: Morgan "the Dreamer" Broman] 

[R]	As the Dark One reaches the inn he enters and goes up to the desk.

	-I look for a person with only one leg who is supposed to be here,
	 could you please tell me which room..?

	The man behind the desk looks him up and down...

	-Sorry..but..

	Shade twirls a golden coin between his fingers.

	-..but I think it's the second room on the right on the first floor.

	Shade flips the coin to him, he bites it and smiles.

	-..I'm sure it is.

	As the Dark One moves up the stairs he wonders

	"I don't really know Karl at all, wonder why I even bother to follow
	 him.....maybe he knows a way for me to get a connection with some
	 strong magician who can help me get back to my own plane...well it's
	 all in the hands of the Old Ones.."


	He goes up the stairs finds the door and knock softly. No answer. He
	tries again. Still no answer. The Dark One closes his eyes and con-
	centrates. After a few seconds he opens his eyes and looks down the
	corridor.

	"Two people, one hazy but the other one is definitely Karl.."

	Shade moves down the corridor past windows where sunlight filters
	through. Eventually he arrives at a staircase and carefully descends.
	The stairs exit out to a very busy square.

	"Too many people around, too much disturbance....damn I've lost him.."

	The Dark One looks around him, there are some pavillions in the square
	and a number of slender towers surrounding it. Looking at the towers
	he notices a strange cloud around one of them.

	"Strange...smells of magic...I wonder..??"

	He takes a final look around before he slips into the crowd. He soon
	realizes that his looks, though different, does not really cause any
	strange looks from people around him. Obviously because of the great
	mixture of people from different cultures already present.

	"By the Old Ones..I wonder if this could be T...."

	His thoughts are interrupted by......
--
Morgan "the Dreamer" Broman			mabr@sweden.hp.com
a.k.a Morgan deGrey (in the S.C.A)
a.k.a Morlacad "Shade" ShadowHawk (in L.R.P.G)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
| There are Fighters and Warriors. Fighters are many, Warriors few and	|
| WeaponMasters hardly any!					Morgan	|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nothing stated here is an official statement by the Hewlett-Packard Corp.
or by the Society for Creative Anachronism.
Organization: Penn State University
Date: Tue, 1 Sep 1992 11:03:28 EDT
From: <ASG102@psuvm.psu.edu>
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: Re: [MI] Alfvaen[Low City->Inn]: Cherchez La Femme

>Nice meeting you, Alfvaen.  See you again, Queriche,
>Delmara.  Let me see what Sugob let happen."  The half-troll got up and went
>back down to the main room, while Alfvaen followed the other two out the back
>of the inn they both knew so well.

     "Sugob, where you be ch'rote?" Trawm swore in Troll.
     "Dungdiggers tryin' ta skip tab boss," he said from the doorway, trying
to block the exiting of a company of Dwarves.
     "Dungdiggers?  Who are you calling a Dungdigger you reeking pile of Orc
vomit," said one of the larger ones while he loosened the strap on his battle
axe.
     A smile crossed Trawm's misshapen face, not a pretty sight to be sure.
It never failed...one of the Dragon's Inn types stopps by for a visit and
trouble follows soon behind as if they drew the attention of Vashanu (God of
War and Really Kick-Ass Bar Fights).
     Trawm walked up to and towered over the Dwarves.  This situation would
test his diplomatic abilities to the limit.
     "Sugob, what's the matter?  Deese halflin's givin' you a fuss?  Dey don't
look mean.  Just kill 'em and den we'll party with our Orc buddies," he said
casually.
      "HALFLINGS? ..."  The Dwarf tried to say more, but his face turned
bright purple and he started twitching in the most impressive display of
Dwarven anger that Trawm had seen in the last decade.  This was going to
be good!

    **Insert scene of unimagineable violence here**   Include:
Dwarves breaking the sound barrier with the speed at which they draw their
weapons, foaming at the mouth by all, 7 froathing Dwarves trying to rush
Trawm and Sugob at once, Sugob getting the tar beat out of him, various body
parts flying about the room in random directions, enough swearing to make
Orcus blush like a schoolgirl, and a lot of blood.

     Thirty seconds later, the fight was over and the overly-happy Trawm
started cleaning the place.
     "Sugob, stop bleedin' all over my floors and help me," he said helping
his assistant to his feet.  "Dat was a good fight huh?  An' we ain't got no
pansy singer to stop 'em."
     "Trawm, is this your arm?" asked one of the patrons holding up a muscular
greenish arm which was still twitching.
     Trawm looked at his left shoulder and saw that it was missing, "Yeah, I
gess so, gimme it and I'll get you a beer...thanks."  He reattached it and
flexed it a few times, "Good as new."

     Love and Peace and Unimagineable Violence,
                 -The Dreamer-
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: z_falkrg@ccsvax.sfasu.edu
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [R?] Killian and Jenever lost?
Date: 31 Aug 92 12:06:37 CST
Organization: Stephen F. Austin State University

ADMIN:

	It's been a while since I've posted, so if Killian is supposed to be
anywhere but where you next read, tell me.  Thanx...

	After a cool and refreshing swim with the lovely Jenever, Killian
climbed back on board and stretched out on the deck, sunning himself.
	"These are the lazy days before an adventure.  I'm sure of it.," he
says as Jenever stretches out beside him.  "You can almost smell it in the
air."
	The ship slipped into dock at a primitive looking village.  Of course,
Killian did not realize this because he had dozed off while drying himself. 
When he and Jenever awakened, the ship was deserted.  Helios, Radan, and Hazy
had vanished.  Looking at each other with puzzlement, they got dressed.
	"Well, that's a fine how do you do.  We come all this way and they
ditch us.  Humph."
	"Well, I don't know about you tiger, but I feel positively yummy. 
Let's see what kind of action we can scrounge up here?"  Jenever replied.
	With a grin, Killian grabs his armour and staff and prepares to
explore.

Killian - King of Bards and Bard of Kings
z_falkrg@ccsvax.sfasu.edu
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: aaron@space.ualberta.ca (Aaron Humphrey)
Subject: [MI][W] Alfvaen[Inn]: Watching a Sculptor at Work
Reply-To: aaron@space.ualberta.ca
Organization: University Of Alberta, Edmonton Canada
X-Newsreader: Tin 1.1 PL4
Date: Thu, 3 Sep 1992 15:33:01 GMT

Alfvaen lay in the bed with Delmara drowsing warm in his arms.  Gods, it had
been so long...in fact, the last time had been with Narwin, in Mandywindain.
Just before she'd tried to kill him...  He stroked Delmara's hair, finding a
few gray hairs among the darker ones.  He knew, though, from his experience
with Windwillow, that you never mention signs of advancing age to any woman.
Windwillow.  Elstree.  Elstree was in Generica, captured by some drow exile and
his gang.  Right.

He poked Delmara gently in the side.  "C'mon, sleepyhead.  We have a girl to
find, right?"

Delmara rolled over and sat up.  "Of course.  I'm sorry."  She leapt up and
started to get dressed.

Shortly, the pair of them went back down the stairs to the common room.  They
scanned the room--we were supposed to come here for information on the Demon
Spiders, Alfvaen thought guiltily.  Still, he didn't regret the hour spelt
with Delmara.

There were a few new faces--one man had apparently collapsed upon entry into
the inn, and was being tended too by a woman with elvish features.  And at one
table sat a man who seemed to be working furiously with something small in his
hands.  The barmaid was watching from over his shoulder.

Delmara went and also stood by and watched.  Alfvaen stood with her for a
minute, then went to talk to Littlefair.  "You heard anything about a guy
named Noctu and a Low City gang of his called the Demon Spiders?"

Littlefair thought for a second, then shook his head.  "Naw.  Don't here much
Low City news around here.  We mostly get the out-of-towners, or the better-off
types.  Who would know, though...lessee...Kron might.  He's been in the Guard
for a few years, and in the Low City a few times.  He's been decommissioned
after he got pinned with the murder of a guy named Creft a while back.  He was
in here a few days ago with a bunch of adventurer-types, but I think they were a
bit involved with something.  This urgent.  Yeah.  Okay.  Karl, used to be the
Quartermaster up at the Keep, was with Kron at one point, but he's off in
Rameshan right now.  Heck, there's a bunch of people around here, but they're
all newcomers.  Might be helpful if you need some muscle or stealth or
something, but they probably don't have a lot of info.  You'd be better off
trying someplace like Ratty's or the Spitting Cobra or--well, maybe not the
Scrappy Ram.  A bunch of adventurers trashed that not long ago, and Verdigren
is still a bit over the edge from that."

Alfvaen shook his head.  "Thanks, Littlefair."  He turned back to where the
sculptor was working feverishly with a little lump of clay.  He watched
curiously to see how it would turn out...

--
---Alfvaen(Canadian SF Quasi-Activist)
"Been there, done that
 Been there, don't want to go back"  --Brian Eno & John Cale
Current Album--Iggy Pop:Blah Blah Blah
Current Read--John Updike:Rabbit, Run
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: scheider@oswego.Oswego.edu (cat)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: The pubsite drama continues...
Keywords: Continuation of Re: a stranger arrives, or some such.
Date: 4 Sep 92 15:40:57 GMT
Reply-To: scheider@oswego.Oswego.edu (cat)
Organization: Instructional Computing Center, SUNY at Oswego, Oswego, NY
Originator: scheider@gidney.oswego.edu

Hi there.  Sorry I had to change the header, but last night while I was
responding to the thread my school's computer hiccoughed and everything
was lost, including both posts.  This latest installment is based on my
rather questionable memory, so please excuse any inanities or glaring
omissions by Kyleen.  Thanks.  And now to our story.

Seeing that the stranger is no longer a threat, the female Elf puts her
dagger away.  She goes over to the bar, retrieves her as yet untouched
wine, and makes good on her promise of paying for both times, as well as
paying for food for both the stranger and herself.
She listens to his dissertation, and gently puts her hand on his shoulder.
"Trouble thyself not.  Just take a name for now, and the rest will come.
 But if it will aid thee, thou mentioned two names; Kale and Adrianna (here
 is where I am not too sure - pretend I got it right and email me the
 correct name, sil vous plait - Cat).  If those names mean nothing to you,
 do not worry.  The trauma thou hast been through often induces periods of
 disorientation, and what thou hast lost will return to thee at the 
 necessary time.  Until then, I am called Kyleen, and until I have been
 given reason to act otherwise, I can be numbered among thy friends".

                        That's all folks,
          Cat, the Mysical Divinity of Unashamed Felinity
Oh if people only knew how DULL it was to live in sin!...
(.sig subject to change)
From: cam@mullet.gu.uwa.edu.au (Cameron Neylon)
Subject: [W] And a clay figure
Organization: University Computer Club --- Perth, Western Australia
Date: Thu, 3 Sep 1992 03:40:09 GMT

The small group around William's table has brocken up with the end of 
the story. William, now quite drunk, rests his head on the table for
soemtime, before brining it back up again to face the real world.

He totters over to the bar, buys a another scotch on ice, and trys to
pay with one of the clay figures, one of a small elvish girl. When
it is refused he crushes it between his fingers and digs coins out
of a pocket somewhere on his robe.

Returning to the now empty table, he ignores the drink, pushing the
empty glasses off the table to crash onto the floor. Only one smashes.

Now he turns his attention to the lump of clay in the water filled bowl.
He begins to work the water back into it, smoothing it and making it
more pliable, before he removes it from the bowl and  places it on
a calico cloth on the table. Suddenly he seems more sober as he shapes
the clay inside his hands. Intense concentration furrows his brow
as a form appears within his hands. Seeing the figure form, he grunts
assent and continues . . . .

Admin: Is anybody out there still at the table, or have they all
       disappeared from the group? (Not including Serene of course,
       I assume she's still there somewhere ( somewhen ? ))
 
-- 
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: v124jw4y@ubvmsb.cc.buffalo.edu (Benjamin R Pierce)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: Re: A visitation by a stranger
Date: 3 Sep 92 01:15:00 GMT
Organization: University at Buffalo
News-Software: VAX/VMS VNEWS 1.41

In article <1992Sep2.231539.5063@oswego.Oswego.EDU>, scheider@oswego.Oswego.EDU (cat) writes...
>The elf who has just entered grabs a glass of water and a rag and rushes
>over.  She performs first aid, including that for shock, and waits to see
>if the stranger comes around.



Under his battered helmet, the stranger is clean-shaven and youthful-looking,
with long blond hair and a hint of elvish blood in his features.  His features
give lie to the hard-bitten mercenary outfit he wears, as does the coat of
elven chain under his tattered leather jerkin.  The stranger's wounds are
many, but not lethal; he seems to have collapsed as much from exhaustion as
from anything else.  As the elf tends his wounds, he stirs.  Half conscious,
he mutters, "Adrianna...Kale...watch out...you were our friend...NO!" This last
is said in a shout, as he jerks awake, his hand reflexively going for his sword.
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: apross@athena.mit.edu (Adam P Ross)
Subject: Jumping in with both feet
Organization: Massachusetts Institute of Technology
Date: Thu, 27 Aug 1992 07:24:44 GMT

   The heavy oaken door of the inn springs violently open, and
a man with a wild look in his eyes staggers in. 
   "Water!" he croaks in a parched voice. "Or, better yet, a
tankard of your finest ale! I've been on the road for four days 
since my waterskin's gone dry, and by the Seven Gods, I won't last
much longer without a drink!" With that he collapses against the bar.
   He is a young man, and the four-foot-long sword strapped
across his back would look more appropriate on a man of a much larger
build, although he wears it as if it weighed no more than a wool
tunic. It is the pulsating, baby-blue orb surmounting the hilt, however,
that seems to attract the most attention from the patrons, even more than 
his dramatic entry.
------------------------------------------------------------
Farquahr the Inconspicuous
Teller of Tales, Spinner of Yarns, and all-around Fun Guy
(apross@athena.mit.edu)
Organization: Penn State University
Date: Thu, 3 Sep 1992 15:05:07 EDT
From: <ASG102@psuvm.psu.edu>
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: ADMIN: Naming of the Land IV

     Well, the voting closes tomarrow unless there are any objections.  So
far, the score is:
"The Crux": 6
"Nexus":    5
     If you haven't voted by now, e-mail me soon.  BTW, this does not count my
vote which is undecided at this point.  Keep in mind that this is the name that
outsiders call the world, not the one that your average Generican yokel would
use (they would use "The Known Lands" to refer to the continent).

     Love and Peace and Deadlines,
            -The Dreamer-
From: scavanag@neumann.une.edu.au (Steven Cavanagh)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: ADMIN: what the !@#$! is going on here??
Date: 3 Sep 92 23:44:06 GMT


THREE TIMES it has happened now. my old posts keep coming back again.
"please find enclosed" has now turned up again, for no reason at all,
as it appeared in the group LAST WEEK. 

so guys, is it just my site, or are you getting totally confused
by supposed plot-line jumps?


Cav.
From: HADCRJAM@admin.uh.edu (MILLER, JIMMY A.)
Subject: [KQ] Colin [basement] For Whom the Bell Tolls...
Organization: University of Houston Administrative Computing
Date: Wed, 26 Aug 1992 21:20:36 GMT
X-News-Reader: VMS NEWS 1.20


  Colin and Werhner circle each other warily, each realizing the other is no
pushover.  Some of the guards spar with Malieau, others watch the duel and
the rest continue to battle the other Questors on the stairs.

  Sparks fly as the swords blur and scrape against one another, are snapped
back and then clashed again.  The warriors dodge and twist, breathing hard,
and stepping gingerly to avoid slipping in the blood spilled from the other
guards.  They seem equally matched.

  Seem.  Colin has studied his foe's style carefully and taken his measure.
Wernher is good, very good, but the Ranger can tell he is the better.  It is
a matter of his opponents style.  It is a strong, steady style, not one one 
likely to lead to mistakes.  But it is conservative, and quite standard.  To 
this point, the half-elf has used his katana almost as one would use a long-
sword.  Now he prepares to change his own fighting style to take full advan-
tage of the blade's properties.

  Colin steps back, changes his grip, and suddenly becomes a veritable tornado
of steel, shoving Wernher back into the barrack, advancing with every stroke.
Boring in from unexpected directions, defying every ordinary precept of sword-
smanship, he shoves the head guardsman to the wall, pressing him hard at all
points.

  "Surrender, soldier!  You have nothing to gain by continuing this fight,
and much to lose!" shouts the ranger.

  "Blow it!" growls Wernher.  "I don't EVER renege on a contract!"

  Colin's eyes harden.  "So be it, then."  With a parry-riposte-beat, he hurls
Wernher's blade aside and runs him through.  The guardsman's eyes widen sudd-
enly and then close as he slumps to the floor.

  With the battle-fever on him, Colin returns to the stairs, ready to introduce
any who would oppose him to Death herself...

Colin Silvertree.
______________________________________
Jim Miller

[Admin -- Time to mop this up and get on down to the rest of the gang.]
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Organization: Penn State University
Date: Sat, 29 Aug 1992 21:34:59 EDT
From: <DCC117@psuvm.psu.edu>
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: ????????EH?????????

What's this group about, anyway??????
Mail me? DCC117&psuvm.psu.edu
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: cgirard@neumann.une.edu.au (The Blade of Malchrntyne)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [HS] Hayley's Saga Part 2
Date: 30 Aug 92 12:50:45 GMT


ADMIN:  This is posted for Helios.

 	She could feel the sun on her face as she walked down the street.
 Her mind told her all she needed to know. Where the edges of the road
 were, when someone was coming, when there was a pothole ahead. Probing
 out, she felt the presence of another mind. She felt the mind tense
 as she probed, as was the natural reaction to Reading, but no walls
 were placed in front of her. 
 	Name:   Zakronius Maestrus Calonar
 	Race:   Human
 	Profession:   Druid
 	
 	The information came to her as easilly as if this man had told
 her himself. Hayley was still not quite sure how she was able to tell
 what a peron was like in this way, but she could glean names and
 professions easilly. She also sensed a medium sized bird, of the species
 commonly known as Magpie, perched on this druid's shoulder. Familiar,
 she thought, as she sensed a sentience above the norm in the bird.
 	
 	Hayley probed the sides of the road, sensing a tall tree up to 
 her left. Shade, relief from the sun's burning rays. Also a break for
 my feet. 
 	
 	She knew the man would not be able to see her yet as he would 
 be to far distant, just as she knew the Magpie had seen her already and
 was contemplating sharing the discovery with it's master. She  went
 over to the tree, sat down, and waited.
 
 Catullus (84-54 B.C.)
From: v124jw4y@ubvmsd.cc.buffalo.edu (Benjamin R Pierce)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: Re: A visitation by a stranger
Date: 3 Sep 92 17:00:00 GMT
Organization: University at Buffalo
News-Software: VAX/VMS VNEWS 1.41

In article <1992Sep3.141341.14040@oswego.Oswego.EDU>, scheider@oswego.Oswego.EDU (cat) writes...
>Although apparently stunned by the names mentioned, the Elf quickly
>proves beyond a doubt that one of the bulges was, indeed, a dagger.
>In one lightning yet fluid motion, she removes the dagger and positions
>it such that the stranger cannot reach his sword.
>"Be at peace, troubled one." she says in Elven, yet this too has an
>accent, "thou hast found help, and no harm shall come to thee at this
>time, leastways from me."



Calming somewhat, the stranger attempts to rise.  Grimacing in pain, he sinks
into a chair.  He looks at the elf who assisted him, and then around the room.
He starts to speak, his voice rough with pain and exhaustion.  "I thank you for
your aid," he says, "and would that I could repay you in kind.  I am...Garriot,
of...of..."  A look of bewilderment comes over him.  "...I can't remember.  Why
can't I remember?"