Untitled By Dundrak, 01/06/2006
Encouraged by my hot, sweaty horse, and my aching posterior, I dismounted and stopped in from of the village. I had read about many great towns and villages in the annals of my MUD school diploma, but had never heard mention of this place. It was in the forest, along a path, marked only by a sign that read 'To Barry, who disappeared in the mountains long ago. ' Immediately questions flew forth from my mind. Who was Barry? Why did he disappear? Which mountains? That sensation in my burning posterior... When will it ease and allow me to walk normally again? Many questions, all remaining unanswered, until I entered the village to the south. The fist question was answered easily. Barry had fled this village after realizing those he shared with were all the same... All in perfect health, either male or female. Barry, being the rambunctious and happy chap that he was, needed something new in his life. He didn't want to be immersed in a world of perfect people; he wanted a scandalous hoe. A woman that would take a smack and give back a punch. He wanted Jane. Jane was different. Sure, she was in perfect health, but she was a lovely girl, and she wandered! She did not stand idle in one spot as the world swirled around her. No, she was a rebel. She wandered around the village, from room to room; being lovely and secretly shunning her unimpressive and perfectly healthy peers. After entering the village and seeing Jane being lovely near the garden, I gave her a love tap. Alright, maybe it was more like a full blown punch to the kidney. Regardless, she appeared to enjoy it on multiple levels: The first being that it allowed her to fall quickly into the scented flowers, enjoying their sweet aroma all the while. The second, the realization that being something other than in 'perfect health' was fun, even daring! I probed Jane roughly, and she told me of Barry and his exploits among the neighboring bear population, in the forests to the north. I gathered from her quivering lip and large bump on her forehead that she had fallen hard on a rock upon being sent to the flowers, but I also learned that Barry was not a normal boy. In a world of perfection and happy little trees, Barry was a dissenter. He didn't stand in one spot his entire existence, nor did he remain bound to a little town that lacked diversity; and he sure as hell wasn't going to be perfect. No, he was going to do the business with bears. Big, furry bears. Jane saw it in his eyes from an early age. In their long and isolated visits to a nearby stream, Barry would be hell bent on clawing at struggling salmon instead of Jane's threadbare and poorly constructed clothing. At first Jane suspected that she was ugly, but then she looked within herself and remembered that she was in fact lovely. So she didn't change. She kept on wearing the threadbare clothes. She kept on smelling the flowers. She kept on trying to get into Barry's pants. But Barry's pants were unconquerable. There were tight, a fine knit; sewn by the most perfect tailor, and they lacked a zipped fly. Instead, Barry had to lower them full tilt, regardless of whether it was number one, or number two. Jane, having always struggled with numbers, was easily lost when it came to 'the business. ' While Barry struggled in the bushes with his numbers, Jane smelled the flowers and wandered. Alone, but lovely. And then it happened. On a warm spring morning just after the sun's rays had christened the morning dew, Jane wandered too far. Instead of stopping and going back upon reaching the towns gate, she continued north, through the forest. She passed generic surroundings, and trees that were nothing special. Where there a lot of exits? No, just two: The way ahead, and behind. Even Jane could handle this journey. As Jane rounded an abrupt turn, she saw them in the distance. Barry, recognizable by his large, and pleasurably erect, ears; the bears by their thick, slightly sticky and moist, fur. Together they were there among the wildflowers and shrubbery, doing the business. Together, one, then the other, they squatted. Alternating grunts, clawing at the moist earth with their concerted efforts, before finally letting forth a great bellow. As they stood, they looked back approvingly. Their eyes met, they touched, and then they did the business again, in another spot, this time inspecting each other's in classic 'You show me yours fashion. It was at this point that Jane lost it. She yelled. No, she screamed! She simply could not bear it. To see the man she may have loved doing the business with such a large, furry creature, out in the open, and without pants, was too much. She turned around and fled. Not south, but instead to a Journey Too Far. Jane did not want to be perfect; she may not even have wanted to be lovely anymore. But she knew she wanted one thing, and that was Jake, the big cat. Jake never knew he was always Jane's cushion. He thought the love was real, when in fact, he was just appreciated for being a large and well endowed pussy. Despite the linear and childishly simple path from the forest to the town, Jane almost lost her way back. She had Jake on her head, and she couldnt think straight. Left was right. Down was up. The business was, well the business. And she needed to get away, fast. So Jane ran to town as quickly as her loveliness would allow her. She fled past the newly erected sign that spoke of Barry's departure. And then she stopped. She looked at the sign, pondering its newfound meaning. And then she gave it the business. Jake was there, in the basement, waiting for her. She rushed through the house, not even stopping for a crumpet, before descending into the basement. She didn't bother using the stairs, but instead jumped down, past all fifteen of them. She landed hard, on her head, but Jake was there, lying in wait. He threw aside the garden utensil and pointed to the corner. He winked his eye, clicked his tongue, and flapped his wings like a chicken, but Jane knew. He was a cat; a big cat. And she wanted pussy. But instead, Jake pointed down, to the trunk. It was long, and black, sleek in the dim light. Jane stroked it and appreciated its girth, wondering if she could lick it. As she bent down to give it a lick, Jake punched her hard, in the kidney. She fell, banging her head on the corner and causing the lid to come ajar. Jake howled and kicked Jane, again in the kidney. She shivered and clutched once more at the massive trunk, trying desperately to stroke its length. Jake howled again, being limited by his species lack of a developed vocabulary, and threw the trunk open. He dove in, rolled around a little for effect, and then came out, covered in silky white, cotton pants. He stepped out of the trunk and hovered over Jane's form. Her hand was clutching her body, hoping it was near the kidney, but having lacked any advanced medical training, was in reality clutching her ankle. In this prone position, Jane looked helpless, frightened, clueless, discombobulated, a little overweight, maybe even chubby, but she didn't look lovely. And Jake liked his women lovely. So what Jake did was he took the pants. He grasped the waistband tightly, and he untied it, slowly, to make an already dramatic moment even more enthralling. He paused throughout, almost as if he were doing the robot, but then he stopped. He let go, the pants falling down, past his sharp knees, down to his weak and bony ankles. He stepped out of the two newly created holes, and he picked up the discarded gardening tool. He admired its craftsmanship, its contoured handle and remarkably sturdy blade. He even tested it against the earthen ground and grunted like a child when it neatly poked Jane in her kidney. She yelped, and he looked closer. Examining the fine grain that could be seen in the tools head, noticing that the handle was sculpted as if for use by him and him alone. He held it up into the light and made digging motions, as if he were culling a field in spring. And then he looked down at Jane, as if noticing her for the first time. He squatted down, taking a lock of Jane's hair and stroking it gently, like a piranha. He stepped closer still, squatted lower, causing the muscles in his leg to strain and resist. He started to claw the earth and moan aloud, while Jane shifted towards him, closer and closer. He took her hand gently and started to shake. He bellowed loudly, causing the pot boiling upstairs to clatter off the stove and to the floor. He bellowed loudly, causing the sign with Barry's inscription to shake lightly on its hinges. Jane exalted, excited and aroused by Jake and his manly moaning. Jake thrust his body upwards, thrusting off Jane's prone form, and giving her, in one primal and fully concentrated effort, the business. Jane stirred and I ceased probing the area I thought to be her kidney. Her tale had come to a close, and I had heard enough. Jane may be a wanderer, and she may be lovely, but she lived a boring life. A life filled with normal people and kinky pussys. I felt that I had been wasted, my time expired. I had passed the sign in search of explanation, but instead had found taxation. As Jane cried on my shoulder and begged for medical attention, I focused my energies elsewhere. I hopped onto my toes, swung my arms like a monkey, and beat my chest. Jane wavered and reached desperately for my trunk. I countered, grabbing her arm roughly and forcing her elbow down, into her kidney, and beyond. She yelped and fell hard into the flowers. I turned and I left. Lumbering, slowly, like a gorilla this time. As I left the village I passed the sign stating ''To Barry, who disappeared in the mountains long ago. ' I pondered the sign, its meaning, and where the elusive Barry may be now. I debated stealing the sign, but concluded that such a mystery was best left unsolved, and the sign left unstolen. I read the message on the sign once more, aloud this time; raising my voice to mimic that of a mother that had left her baby in a burning building. "To Barry, who disappeared in the mountains long ago." The sign swayed in the breeze, as if in recognition. I too swayed, as a result of all the prunes I had eaten in the days past. And then I clutched the sign tightly, leaning fully against its form. And I gave it the business.

Untitled by Kirby 01/06/2006
The sun had just begun to set as I stumbled upon the Iron gates of Prospero, I was travelling homeward after my adventures in Gerasis and searching for a place to rest, and escape the bitter cold. A Gatekeeper met me at the gate, giving me a frightened look, and refusing to let me in. After some small chatter, I persuaded him to open the gates, bribing him with a hefty bag of gold. Rather pleased with his new wealth, he gave me a masque in hopes that I could pass through the mansion undetected. He told me of Prince Prospero, and the masquerade party he was holding for special friends only, and also warned me of the Red Death, which he described as a very hideous plague, matched by no disease or illness. I proceeded unafraid but only to find the tall front door to the mansion locked. A knock to the door gave no reply, and I made my way through the landscape, searching for another entrance. Spotting the stables to the east, I investigated further and found a rather disturbing fellow, Harpo the unstable groundskeeper. Covored in blood and wearing the skin of a horse, I felt no guilt taking this mans life, and removing the misery he must have lived with. Among other strange objects, a large key to the tall mansion door was on his person. I made my way into Prosperos exciting event, doning the masque the gatekeeper gave me. A huge ballroom followed the entranceway to the mansion, filled with dancers, masqueraders, and musicians. I thought back to the gatekeepers warning of the red death and gave a small chuckle, to me this seemed nothing but a rich mans party enjoying the night. It was quite an irregular place, the color scheme and random decorations were unique to any mansion or palace I have ever seen. I walked about as any other friend of Prospero, making small chatter with the other guest as I made my way throughout the huge mansion. Upon the hour of eleven, A gigantic clock of ebony struck with a loud and deep note, eleven notes. And such peculiar notes, that the company ceased, the musicians froze, and all fell silent in a confused meditation. As the last tone rang, and no more follow, a light laughter could be heard throughout the assembly, and the smiling musicians continued their harmonic play. Feeling curious and somewhat bored I made my way towards the host. Prospero was indeed a charming, and entertaining man, with a strange love for the bizarre. He was laughing it up with a few ballroom dancers as I gazed around a short distance from his throne. His throne sat in the eastern center of the ballroom, elaborately designed, having two gargoyles stationed on the top of the chair supposedly protecting the prince from all evil. From here the prince could observe the whole party, and have a listen to the band. I decided to move about before the prince detected my unwanted presents, so I made my way to the ebony grandfather clock that had stole the attention of the crowd before. But before I could make my way through the dense crowd, once again, the clock rang the deep peculiar note, and all fell silent. And before the final chimes of the clock could announce the midnight coming, a mysterious figure arose from the shadows, masked in a horrid face describing the results of an unspeakable disease. Arresting the attention of every guest present, with a deep convincing voice the figure announced, "The hallways shall flow forth with scarlet! '". And to that the Prince rose, standing stern with his fellow friends. "Who dares?" He damanded hoarsely of the courtiers who stood near him, "who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and unmask him, that we may know whom we have to hang at sunrise, from the battlements!" . And with the effect of Prospero's command, the company begin to move toward the mysterious figure, but in their cowardice none put forth hand to seize the mysterious figure; so that, unimpeded, he passed witin a yard of the prince's person, and made his way through the halls uninterrupted. It was then however, that the Prince Prospero, with rage and knowledge of his own momentary cowardice, drew a dagger and rushed down the halls, while none followed. There was then a sharp cry, and the dagger dropped gleaming upon the carpet as the figure confronted his pursuer, and the Prince Prospero fell prostrate in death. Startled by the whole scene, I sat silent, refusing to move or calm the terrified guests. But as the gatekeeper had warned, within a few moments the Red Death had begun to plague the members of this cursed masquerade. Terrified and confused, the jesters, dancers, musicians, and already enraged guests became a horrid and pathetic sight. One bye one they began to drop, coughing uncontrolably and choking to the point of suffacation. Watching this terrible episode, I decided to search around for the source of this terrible epidemic, and my search brought me to a small trapdoor above the dark and mysterious seventh suite of the mansion. Few of the company set foot in this unpleasant suite, the stained glass windows were a deep scarlet color, and black tapestries hung from the ceiling along the walls. A short rope fell from the ceiling, connected to a small attic door. I pulled the string down and climbed the wooden ladder up into the attic. With no surprise, as I reached the top floor of the mysterious mansion, in the far corner of the room hovored a sparkling scarlet aura, silent and and mesmorizing. I drew close to it, examining it and contemplating its existance. It began to cloud the room, as if aware of my presence. I stepped back Slowly, as the mist began to flank me. Puzzled and feeling nervous, I brought about righteous storms throughout the room, and blazing fireballs in an attempt to stop the plague which would shortly consume me. But nothing, not even my most powerful spells could disintegrate its presence. And as I brought forth my magic the disease slowly flanked me, and surrounded me with the thick fog, suffocating and burning my skin. Panicking, and in utter confusion, I ran to a small corner of the room and raised magic walls to barricade myself from the unstoppable evil. I sat and rested, feeling exhausted and dazed from the previous experience of the plague. Still feeling confident I thought back to all my training as my magic wall was slowly corroded by the plague, searching for an answer that could save my life, and put in end to the horrid torture the Red Death has caused. But as I sat, throughout the halls I heard the echo of the same powerful, convincing voice of the mysterious figure, "One by one, you will all die! Nobody can escape their fate! The hallways shall flow forth with scarlet! ', and as the voice slowly faded, it brought with it my last bit of courage and hope that I would survive the night. I sat against the back wall in shame, feeling discouraged and defeated. This would be my end, after all my adventures into the depths of the most dangerous lands, I was met with a power that even I could not challenge. I thought back to all the great times I had travelling the lands, and all the great people I had the privilege of meeting. The wonders of the hidden valley of the gods, the dangerous caves of Nosgoth, the great pubs spread throughout the towns. And as I sat, I looked down out my most precious treasure, the golden heavenly hammer I aquired from the plains of heaven. It began to glow, shining a beautiful gold aura in the dark and misty room. Such a magnificent sight it was for me in this depressing moment, that all shame and fear of death faded, and a new sense of encouragement came over me. I have lived a great life, conquering many challenges that even the most powerful warriors would refuse to attempt. If this was to be my end, then so be it. I grasped my hammer and stood up with dignity and pride, awaiting my fate.... And the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.

Fire and Nice By Jerbear, 01/01/2006
Many seasons ago the hero Jerbear went forth from the gates of Midgaard. After a journey many days from the gates our hero wondered into a mountain that was home to a group of evil fire newts. Jerbear being a righteous hero decided to end the villiany of the newts, so he descended into the mountain to come across all manner of evil. The newts didn't take notice of our hero until he started his righteous massacre. Many guards and member of the newts somewhat organized army came forward to try to stop Jerbear from completing his task. But our hero was protected by his god and had his divine power on his side to rid the world of these evil creatures. After many hours of fighting and seeing no end in the battle and being somewhat fatigued, our hero retreated to a small castle near the entrance to the mountain of the fire newts. The castle had been abandoned for many years. Jerbear decided that this would be his base from which he would strike out against the fire newts. After a days rest Jerbear ventured back into the newts home and begin anew, after another fight that lasted many hours Jerbear agin retreated to the castle. Seeing that he hadn't got much further into the fire newt's lair then before Jerbear faith was shacken. Jerbear prayed many nights to his god before he regained his faith and made the extermination of the fire newts his quest in life. He would rid the world of the evil newts once and for all. With that he started working on the castle to make sure it was fortified incase the newts discovered it while he retreated to regather his strength from a battle with the newts. In his explorations around the mountain he came across an ancient dragon that had seen the light of good. He presented a bargain to him, protect the castle from which he would release righteous fury on the evil newts in the area. The dragon agreed to help as he had been wanting to get rid of them from sometime but was unable to enter thier home as the hole was too small for him. At this point the dragon finally gave Jerbear his name, as to dragons a name is a very important piece of information and not given freely. The dragon introduced himself as Nicol Bolas. Having gotten himself a worthy guard for his base of operation, Jerbear next set out to locate a mage with a great deal of knowledge of the arcane to aid him in his quest. After a long search he found a wizard to his liking, and invinted him to his castle to assist and informed him of the presence of Nicol, the wizard jumped at the opportunity to study a dragon. With his second companion ready to assist him in dealing with the evil newt problem Jerbear decided he was ready for a daily battle with the newts. He now battles the newts on a daily basis, and has yet to lose his faith again, knowing that with each day a small portion of evil is removed from this world. He wakes up each morning looking forward to his fight with the evil newts, on those days when the previous days battle was not in his favor, he looks forward to a day of training to better be able to deal with the newts in the future and to heal his wounds. The newts have yet to discover his castle bet with each passing day they seem to understand his strategy, and it will not be long until they discover his castle and his friendship with Nicol and the mage will be well afforded. Until that time the newts population is lowered each and every day. Soon there will be none left and Jerbear's quest will be complete.