Variant Earth 13 E Mail Game Archive Number 12

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 09:00:34 -0500
From:    Douglas Lohse <LohseD@mscdirect.com>

"OK, people, you convinced me. There is such a thing as magic.  I hate
magic!!!!!  I hate the wind!  I hate sand!  But most of all, I hate not
knowing where the hell I am!"

Rebound was not amused.  He sat down behind the only shelter he could find,
the cold stone statue.  "Hey Stoney, you still there?  Or am I alone again,
lost in this damned sandstorm in the middle of nowhere?"

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 14:48:21 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

"Dang no great powers, no honeys, this dude back here is using me for a 
windbreaker, no food and its hot.  So Rebound is it?  Do you have any idea 
of where we are."  Sitting up on the ground, still providing some shielding 
for Rebound while he gets his bearings.  Creating a mid-size ice barrier in 
front of them to talk in peace for a minute or two.  (Before it melts).  
(Roll: 55)

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 09:57:18 -0500
From:    Douglas Lohse <LohseD@mscdirect.com>
 
"Well, to tell you the truth, I have no idea where we are, or where
everybody else went for that matter.  I'm lost out here without at least a
GPS or Loran.  If I even had a compass, I might be able to get some clue
where we are.  You don't happen to have a radio on you, do you?  How about a
digital watch?  Two pieces of iron or steel?"

Rebound takes a moment to study the ground when Stone Cold has created an
icy windbreak.  Now that the sand isn't totally obscuring his vision,
Rebound tries to figure out which of the several unfriendly deserts he has
visited he is currently in based on the type of sand and/or rock he is
standing on.

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 15:20:30 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

"Watch? Here."  Giving him the digital/analog timepiece.  "What do you need 
now flint and steel?  Signal Flares?  Telepathic headset?   This is a 
costume, not a hardware store."  Sounding frustrated.  Not at Rebound but at 
the current turn of events.  "Sorry.  Any ideas?"

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 10:30:16 EST
From:    "Peter Chamers" <lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com>

Ronin points to the on-coming mob.

"This does not bode well for us, Wizard.  Unless you have some enchantment 
to help us, I suggest we make a strategic retreat until
we can figure out where we are and what has transpired."

Ronin looks at the spire and turns back to Masque.

"There!" he says pointing.  "We can defend ourselves from higher ground."

Ronin waits for Masque's reply though its obvious from his tone and demeanor 
that he's already decided what course of action the two will follow.

Ronin
Whose player waits patiently for Masque's reply knowing that it'll have him 
ROTFL

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 17:36:40 -0600
From:    "Christopher W. Acers" <cwacers@home.com>

Still pulling grass outta his mouth, Masque eyes the group of people.

And without any sort of warning he spouts out to them;
"Hey, yoohoo, over here...You got any ketchup?"

Realizing that Ronin is a bit wary of these people he makes that 'oops'
face. And if you have ever seen an oops face on a wizard, it is a sight
to behold.

"Wrong question" he mutters to himself and then hollering out to them;

"Never mind, this Grass ain't so bad after all. In fact this is the best
Grass I have ever tasted, Doesn't need dressed up at all. I have had
some good grass in my time, but this is the best. Very rich in moisture
and and...." Pulling something out of his teeth and a disgusted look on
his face, "Grubs...Mmm mmm Good."

He turns to Ronin and winks at him conspiratorially. But you find it
hard to believe an sort of conspiracy can come from someone with that
goofy Grin on his face.

"I hope you know how to ride"
With that he produces Two of his Spectral Horses and Hops onto one and
gestures Ronin to the other.

Masque brings horse to a 'hover' about 30 feet from the ground and tells Ronin;

"They can fly, so maybe we should stay out of those folks' reach until
we can figure out what they want. Maybe they have ketchup? Hell maybe
they even Know where we are because I sure Can't figure it out."

Whilst waiting for Him to answer Masque does a general sweep of his
magical sensing, trying to get a feel for this area.(rolling a 90)
In essence looking for the a 'lay of the land'

<If I could get up, I'd kick your Ass>

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 14:02:11 EST
From:    "Peter Chamers" lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com

>And without any sort of warning he spouts out to them; "Hey, yoohoo, over here...You got any ketchup?"

Ronin's eyes very nearly pop out of his head. And I do mean that literally.

>Realizing that Ronin is a bit wary of these people he makes that 'oops' 
>face. And if you have ever seen an oops face on a wizard, it is a sight to 
>behold.

Ronin gives Masque that 'I'm gonna gut you like a fish' face. And if you 
have ever seen a 'gonna gut you like a fish' face on a swordsman, it ain't a 
pretty sight.

>"Wrong question" he mutters to himself and then hollering out to them;
>"Nevermind, this Grass ain't so bad after all. In fact this is the best 
>Grass I have ever tasted, Doesn't need dressed up at all. I have had some 
>good grass in my time, but this is the best. Very rich in moisture and 
>and...." Pulling something outof his teeth and a disgusted look on his 
>face, "Grubs...Mmm mmm Good."

>He turns to Ronin and winks at him conspiratorially. But you find it
>hard to believe an sort of conspiracy can come from someone with that
>goofy Grin on his face.

Ronin gives you a deadpan face.  Obviously he's the straight guy in this 
vaudville act.

>"I hope you know how to ride"
>With that he produces Two of his Spectral Horses and Hops onto one and 
>gestures Ronin to the other.

Ronin proceeds to jump unto the back of the horse and almost flies over the 
other side of the beast.  Gingerly, he pulls himself into a sitting postion, 
holding on for dear life.  GUess he doens't know how to ride.

>Masque brings horse to a 'hover' about 30 feet from the ground and tells 
>Ronin;

>"They can fly, so maybe we should stay out of those folks' reach until we 
>can figure out what they want. Maybe they have ketchup? Hell maybe they 
>even Know where we are because I sure Can't figure it out."

Ronin definitely looks like a fish out of water on the back of this 
creature.  Despite his clownish situation, his visage adn tone are deadly 
serious.

"These creatures can fly?  Well...you do you propose I stay aloft upon an 
airborne horse?"

>Whilst waiting for Him to answer Masque does a general sweep of his
>magical sensing, trying to get a feel for this area.(rolling a 90)
>In essence looking for the a 'lay of the land'

Ronin, in the meantime, tries to pull himself into some semblance as a 
seated position on the back of the horse.

Rolls - 65 79 43 68 for the various required feats.

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 14:16:10 -0500
From:    Douglas Lohse <LohseD@mscdirect.com>

While Stone Cold provides cover, Rebound carefully opens the watch and
checks the components to see if it contains the satellite tracking chip that
are secretly hidden within the circuitry of many digital watches. (Any
sufficiently paranoid NSA agent knows where to look)

OCC:  If you don't want to permit this level of government interference in
everyday items, then ignore this...

"If we're lucky, this watch will contain a circuit that I can reverse and
get a lock on a satellite and find out where we are.  Best case, we can get
a GPS signal.  Worst case, we're right where we were 5 minutes ago, except
we won't know what time it is anymore."

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 19:39:31 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

"I am hoping for the best case scenerio, otherwise its a wasted watch.  
Those things never seal right once you open them."  Adding to the ice 
shield.

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 14:31:30 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

As the two of you rise into the air on the backs of levitating, spectral
horses (one less comfortably so), that crowd of people that was (until a
second ago) approaching you stops rather abruptly in their tracks. 
Peering up at you against the stark azure sky, their leader speaks.

"So, you're alright, then.  We'd heard that two people had done
manifested right up here on the hill, so we thought we'd make sure you
were all right.  Or, at the very least, not a bloody menace waiting for
us - but I guess that remains to be seen."

This fellow, a rather smooth talking human, seems to be flanked by
several folks of a rather shorter stature, almost resembling poor Och in
proportions, though they definitely look more grubby for the wear.  And
quite a lot more surly, as well.

And at least one of them can speak.  "Arrh.  We do have a fair supply of
ketchup in the inn, below, wizard.  You and your wobbly friend there are
welcome to join us for dinner tonight, and perhaps you'll have a yarn or
two of right good stories to tell about how ye got here."

Turning, the group turns around and prepares to head back to their
village, apparently in no true mind to fight.  They might've just been
on the lookout for free booty, but then it is entirely possible that
they were actually concerned for your personal welfare.

It's hard to say.  

Meanwhile, as Ronin gets an almost satisfactory handle on the strange,
unreal beastie you conjured up for him, your sweep of the area yields
some strange results, Masque.  The general area around you seems to be
less magical than the earth in general.

However, you can detect a particular sorcerous vacuum in the form of
that giant Spire yonder.  Looking at the thing with your magical sense,
you can plainly see that the thing is actively siphoning magical power
from the world around you into itself.

Though the thing is still apparently dozens of miles off, you can still
tell what it's doing, and the effect this is having on the general
surroundings.  And, from the looks of things, you can guess that being
far, far away from this spire can only help your spellcasting.

Not that you currently have any great need to use it, of course.

What's yer next move, Ronin, Masque?

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 15:31:48 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

Digging around, you find the little micro-switch that transforms the
digital watch into a gps machine; in your experience, nobody bothers to
'bug' the cheaper watches, just fine pieces of chronometric technology
like this one that Stone Cold wears on his person.

(and OOC:  just because SOMEbody is keeping track of things like this, 
nobody said it was the N.S.A.... =)

The thing gives itself a personal reboot, and then starts looking for a
signal from On High.  It takes a few minutes, though you're not sure
why, but you finally do get a reading.  The watch nee gps device gives
you a reading of 16 degrees South by 47 degrees West.

Giving your high school geography lessons a mental flex, you seem to
think that this would indicate that you're somewhere within Brazil,
possibly by the capital, but this doesn't make much sense.  After all,
there's supposed to be a jungle around here, or something.

After you take that reading, the two of you sense a change in the air. 
Suddenly, the wind dies down a bit, but the sound of churning air does
not.  That, of course, is because something is flying directly over your
heads.  A massive shape passes over head, making a 'whooozzh' noise.

It then heads to your left, though through the grainy air, you can see
that it is touching down nearby.  However, you still can't tell what
exactly it is, or even where it has landed.  You do know, though, that
it's suddenly getting dark out here, much faster than it should.

What do the two of you do?

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 20:53:06 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

"Rebound can you fly?  I don't know about but, even I think that the better 
part of valor sometimes is to Run!"  Says Stone Cold not really wanting to 
stick around to find out what could turn a jungle into a desert.

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 15:50:22 -0500
From:    Douglas Lohse <LohseD@mscdirect.com>
 
> Giving your high school geography lessons a mental flex, you seem to
> think that this would indicate that you're somewhere within Brazil,
> possibly by the capital, but this doesn't make much sense.  After all,
> there's supposed to be a jungle around here, or something.
 
"Brazil?  Were in Brazil?!  This thing must be baked!  Or something is
screwing with the GPS signal"

>(snippity snip snip)

"My guess is whatever that thing is, it is what's screwing with the signal.
I say we go investigate and find out who or what they are.  And I'm telling
you right now, if they are hostile, I am in no mood to negotiate."

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 20:53:06 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

"Rebound can you fly?  I don't know about but, even I think that the better 
part of valor sometimes is to Run!"  Says Stone Cold not really wanting to 
stick around to find out what could turn a jungle into a desert.

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 16:00:54 -0500
From:    Douglas Lohse <LohseD@mscdirect.com>

Rebound makes his way towards the "ship" with Stone Cold in tow.

"I really don't think they turned Brazil into a desert.  I just think
they're messing with the signal.  They probably just have a microwave
transmitter and the harmonics are bleeding over the GPS signal.  Or they
could be big nasty space aliens that will vaporize us the second we show
ourselves..."

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 21:11:50 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

"Oh great!  Just make me feel ever so comfortable, why don't cha."

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 16:29:37 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

As the two of you wander towards the flying thing that buzzed over your
heads, you can hear the sounds of porters doing their job.  "A'right,
you sorry lot, get these boxes unloaded toot sweet!  I'm tired of
standin' around in this crap a'reddy!"

When you fade in from the billowing sand like a wraith, the speaker
spits out his cigarette in abject shock, and comes back with a smarmy
retort.  Of course, all he gets out is "Who the 'ell..."  He stops when
the massive form of Stone Cold looms behind you, fresh from the sand.

He looks up in that way that jerks tend to do when they realize they're
suddenly unable to get away with being a jerk any longer, and gazes at
you, Rebound, and the hulking mass of Stone Cold right next to you. 
"Er, um.  What the devil are the two of you doin' out 'ere?"

Looking around, you can see that the craft that's apparently being
unloaded seems to be some kind of futuristic aircraft, one with four
turbo-fan hover units, each with extremely heavy sand filters built in.
Otherwise, the thing looks like a classic 18 wheeler truck.

You know, big, long, and built for cargo.

They seem to be taking huge crates out of the vehicle and carrying them
into what looks like some sort of bunker, one that seems immune to the
flaying sand around you; in fact, the sand seems to stop about a foot
short of touching the bunker's walls proper.

"No, really.  What the 'ell's you two doin' out here in this hellish
sandstorm?  You're gonna gets yerselves all dead out here if you don't
watch it, yer ask me.  You're not here to rob us honest businessmen,
now, are ya?  That'd be right rude of yer!"

?

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 16:34:43 -0500
From:    Douglas Lohse <LohseD@mscdirect.com>

"Honest businessmen?  Let's not be naive...I have a simple question for you.
Would you mind giving us a ride out of this sandpit?"

Rebound takes a few steps towards the foreman to get a closer look at him
hoping to get some hint of what is going on from the way he is dressed.
Rebound also tries to spot any weapons the "businessman" is sporting.

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 21:42:26 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

"Who's ta say that your honest?  And what is your business?"  Seeing that 
his form is causing the man some nervousness he goes along with and pushes 
the point.  Says Stone Cold.

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 17:20:37 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

The man looks back and forth between the two of you, and looks honestly
affronted at the nature of your questioning.  "Now see here, you bloody
gits.  I ain't no organ legger or mass murderer, see!  All's I do is
bring food and spare parts to these expatriate folks here, now."

"Is it really a crime to not want to live under the heel of the Varaknis
Imperium?"  You look at the man, and he seems to be telling you the
straight score.  After all, the alternative might get him liquefied, if
he's judged Stone Cold's pummeling power correctly.

And he has.

The man is about five foot nine, and is wearing some sort of suit that
seems, at first glance, to be made out of leather.  However, the simple
fact that it is resisting this grainy bombardment would indicate
otherwise.  The suit is also adorned with various plasteel extras.

The man himself is of a sandy skin tone, with long brown hair pulled up
in a pony tail, and a thick, Fu Manchu style moustache (if thicker), and
heavy side burns.  He's also wearing thick goggles to keep his eyes
intact (he's not blessed with inherent body armor like you two).

He (like his fellows) are armed, each having a knife and sidearm of
unknown make showing in plain sight on their suits (which are all
similar in design).  However, they don't seem to be making any overt,
combative moves.

"So, ye be wantin' a ride out of this Hell hole, do yer?  Well, then,
come on inside with me, 'cause we won't be leaving until the morning. 
Got to lay low while the damn security forces do their sweeps of the
skies - what's left of 'em these days."

He starts walking towards the oddly protected bunker.  "So are yah
comin' with me or not?"

?

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 17:22:30 -0500
From:    Douglas Lohse <LohseD@mscdirect.com>

"Seems like a reasonable thing to do."

Rebound follows him towards the bunker, keeping an eye out for ambush.

"You got a name mister?"

Subject: Re: [v13] Twisted Happenings
Date:    Tue, 30 Nov 1999 18:22:12 -0600
From:    "William H. Lockwood" <albedo1@home.com>

Jinx frowns as she realizes her mag cannons are sorely in need of
reloading. She continues to grimace as she looks over the scene,
scanning down to the letter and then Clutch.

Bending down quickly to snatch up the letter, she breaks into a quick
jog towards Clutch, calling out his name and waving.

"Hey! Clutch! Is that you?! Where the hell are we?!" she hollers as she
makes her way to him.

Subject: Re: [v13] Twisted Happenings
Date:    Wed, 01 Dec 1999 01:23:48 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

As you emerge from the alley, Clutch pulls his Colt .45 on you, though
he puts it down a moment later.  "Oh, it's you."  You're not quite sure
what he means by that, but he's got a look about him, like you'd expect
from a U.S. Senator deep within Libya or something.

"Where the heck've you been?  Hawk and the other Joes have been trying
to get ahold of you and your nutball friends for over a month, now,
lady.  And what do you mean, where are we?  Don't you recognize lovely
Los Angeles?  It's all around you!"

Looking around, now that you've escaped the darkened, dangerous alley
behind you, you can see all sorts of telltale signs.  The big Hollywood
sign, for example.  So, somehow, that Stellar Key thing blasted your
angry self across the country.

And apparently into next month, if Clutch's comment was right.  After
all, you left Hawk and his entourage in New York City only a day or so
ago.  Suddenly, your head hurts, and you feel rather tired.  Clutch
doesn't seem all that understanding, though.

"Well, I'd love to stay and chit-chat, babe, but I'm on the Job.  Deep
undercover type stuff, and all that.  I'd take you with me, but then,
I'm not sure if you're into all that gratuitous property damage-type
stuff, and all.  Could be kinda dangerous..."

"Know what I mean?"  He waggles his eyebrows at you, but you can't tell
if he's trying to be conspiratorial or is just makin' the moves on you.

What do ya do?

Subject: Re: [v13] Lost In Space...?
Date:    Wed, 1 Dec 1999 00:50:12 -0800
From:    "Michael Joiner Jr" <ultimental@onebox.com>

> Now, back to the show, Reaper (I'll try not to dismember your post too 
> much...)

Oh...nothing to sweat about if ya don't - I'd just...rebound...;-)

> Bending down, you see that the charred book before you isn't the prone
> form of that which is the Infinitum, but another book altogether. 
> Picking the thing up, you try to read the cover, but can't quite make
> out the squiggles that seem to make up the printed title on the cover.
> That's when the other differences begin to take shape.  For one thing,
> you can tell that you're not underground any more.  You're still in a
> generally enclosed space, but you can see that this space is built of
> plasteel and other artificial materials, not rough-hewn stone.
> Then your awareness tells you the worst part - there's no earth here! 

Reaper stares hard at the book before taking in his surroundings.  He tries in vain to identify the writing.

Looking at the plasteel...and the viewports into open space...his eyes widen in alarm... "Ohhhhhh F$#k..." He murmers...

> Looking around, the only cat you see in your vicinity seems to be that
> Ken Connell fellow.  He's laying face down, and apparently having some
> kind of convulsions.  You're not quite sure what's wrong with the man,
> but he sure as heck doesn't look good.

Reaper bites his lower lip, looking left and right nervously. 
"definitely don't need any power spikes with all THIS goin' on..."

> (snippity snip snip)

> You know you're not of either species, but these folks don't.

Reaper looks down at the book in his hand contemplatively...
"Seems every major pain in my life begins with books..." he says under his breath while shaking his head.

"A Granx't?" he asks, looking down to Kevin.
"I don't know anything about Granx'ts, robots, or any of this...this guy is my friend, and umm, he's not doin good right now."

Reaper places a hand on Kevin's shoulder, trying to move slowly enough to not provoke these aliens.

Subject: Re: [v13] Lost In Space...?
Date:    Wed, 01 Dec 1999 04:11:47 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

The alien mushroom-thing looks at you oddly, and shrugs.  "Curious. You
have an appearance that is amazingly similar to that of the Granx't,
save for the fact that your flesh tone is a little less reddish-brown. 
Most curious.  Most curious, indeed..."

With that, one of the robots points an object at you, and it starts to
hum merrily.  A bluish beam issues forth from the device, bathing you
and Ken in its subtle brilliance.  You feel no pain from the beam,
though you can nonetheless sense it penetrating your very form.

The robot then issues forth various modem-like tones, which causes a
staticky buzz to emit from the helmeted ball of energy, and a nod of
understanding from the mushroom-thing.  And, then, you hear its damp and
mossy voice inside your head once more.

"Ah, I see, now.  My apologies.  I was only aware of two variants of
your species - i see that you come from stock over two thousand
generations separate from either the Varakni or Granx't races - and
something else altogether.  Again, I do apologise for the insult."

The mushroom-thing bows, almost in supplication; apparently, naming you
as one of these other, offshoot races of humanity is something of a
grave insult in intergalactic parts.  "After all, not having encountered
one of your type, I cannot pre-judge your behavioral tendecies."

"But I am remiss in my manners.  My name is, though it loses something
in the translation into your tongue, approximately Gray Stump On The
Lake.  I am of the Mhungus, a proud and ancient people who, if I am
correct, originated in your galaxy."

"This here is, again the translation misses something, Most Brightest
750 TeraHertz.  He is my Jl'rtz friend, and the current manager of the
station you have found yourself on.  As for the others, these two
Mechani are Most Brightest 750 TeraHertz's staff, Transmission and Nut.

The two robot bow in unison.

"Of course, I have yet to learn your identity, that of your friend, and
how you came to materialize within this way station.  I do hope there's
a possibility of your educating us in this regard.  After all, it must
be a most interesting tale..."

?

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Wed, 01 Dec 1999 05:04:03 -0600
From:    "Christopher W. Acers" <cwacers@home.com>

> Ronin gives Masque that 'I'm gonna gut you like a fish' face. And if you
> have ever seen a 'gonna gut you like a fish' face on a swordsman, it ain't a
> pretty sight.

"What!"

> Ronin gives you a deadpan face.  Obviously he's the straight guy in this
> vaudville act.
 
"What!"

> Ronin proceeds to jump unto the back of the horse and almost flies over the
> other side of the beast.  Gingerly, he pulls himself into a sitting postion,
> holding on for dear life.  Guess he doens't know how to ride.

Masque Smirks

> "These creatures can fly?  Well...you do you propose I stay aloft upon an
> airborne horse?"

"Seatbelts."
Masque snickers to himself and then says;
"Seriously though, the horse won't let you fall"

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Wed, 01 Dec 1999 12:52:26 EST
From:    "Peter Chamers" <lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com>

>>Ronin gives Masque that 'I'm gonna gut you like a fish' face. And if you 
>>have ever seen a 'gonna gut you like a fish' face on a swordsman, it ain't 
>>a pretty sight.

>"What!"

Ronin frowns.

>>Ronin gives you a deadpan face.  Obviously he's the straight guy in this 
>>vaudeville act.

>"What!"

Ronin frowns deeper

>"These creatures can fly?  Well...you do you propose I stay aloft upon an 
>airborne horse?"

>"Seatbelts."

>Masque snickers to himself and then says;
>"Seriously though, the horse won't let you fall"

"They'd have better not" Ronin threatens.

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Wed, 01 Dec 1999 12:56:35 EST
From:    "Peter Chamers" <lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com>

Ronin nods grimly. "Thank you for your offer.  We will certainly accept.  As 
for how we got here..." Ronin pauses a moment. "Yes...that is a very good 
story" he adds hastily.

>Turning, the group turns around and prepares to head back to their
>village, apparently in no true mind to fight.  They might've just been on 
>the lookout for free booty, but then it is entirely possible that they were 
>actually concerned for your personal welfare.

>It's hard to say.

Ronin turns to Masque. "What do you think Wizard? I see no reason to fear 
these people...but we are strangers in a strange place.  Caution is a must.  
I trust our skills to get us out of any trouble, however."

Ronin notices that 'I'm-not-really-here' look in Masque's eyes (how can he 
tell the difference?).

"Mage? Are you listening?"

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Thu, 02 Dec 1999 22:05:49 -0600
From:    "Christopher W. Acers" <cwacers@home.com>

> "Mage? Are you listening?"

Masque shoots him a glare.

"Yes I am listening you fool, they did say they had ketchup.  But I
really didn't need it and my intuition tells me these folks are fine.
Let's rock"

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Wed, 01 Dec 1999 13:23:44 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

Stone Cold following Rebound's lead is keeping a very watchful eye over 
everything and everybody after hearing the name of the sect that he and 
Tammy had visited in the past.  'Dang it all here again!'

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Wed, 01 Dec 1999 14:30:21 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

The man is silent as he motions towards the bunker, waving his hands in
a complicated pattern that is quite hard to make out, what with the
billowing clouds of sand obscuring your vision.  He does this for a few
seconds, at which point you hear a popping sound.

A door then slids open on the bunker face, a large, cargo door that will
allow the porters here to bring their crates inside - and you, as well.
Walking in, the leader of this bunch walks over to the controls of a
lift, suspended off the ground by a simple aluminum pipe.

"Go on, get on!"  When the two of you do so, he presses the big green
button on the jury rigged control pad (though it really looks like a
control block), and the lift surface you're standing on begins to
descend into the earth.

It goes past nothing but concrete for about fifty feet, a possible
buffer against the shifting sands above.  However, the tunnel you're in
opens up... dramatically, after about that distance.  Looking around,
you can see that you're in some sort of massive underground chamber.

It's roughly cylindrical in shape, in that it's round in nature, but
deep.  Hundreds of feet deep.  At every fifteen foot interval, you see
the hollowed out earth interrupted by a circular catwalk hugging the
earth surrounding you, with doors opening up into the ground beyond.

Looking down, you can see about ten such 'levels' in this vast compound,
though the bottom of this place itself looks like some kind of silo door
- and on the center of its eight-paneled construction, you can plainly
see a large, red emblem on the thing.

It's a giant, stylized cobra.

This tends to make you uncomfortable.  Now, you've heard about these
guys once or twice on the news, Stone Cold, but you know exactly what
that symbol means, Rebound, having been in the N.S.A. and all.  It
belongs to, you guessed it, Cobra.

They're a ruthless terrorist organization determined to rule the world!
However, despite that prominent logo, you don't see anybody in anything
at all resembling a military uniform.  In fact, the folks you do see -
women, children, older folks - look downright pleasant.

"Aie, you seem to recognize the emblem, lads.  Don't worry, there won't
be a bevy of brutes sprining out of the woodwork shooting at you and
screaming 'cobraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa' or anything.  We just borrowed this
old base from the chaps after the Varaknis wiped them out."

"And to answer yer other question, my cloaked friend, the name's
Alabaster Timmons.  Thug for hire, general rapscallion, and definitely
the best hauler of desirable goods this wrecked-up, rotationally
destabilized earth has to offer!"

Timmons pauses for a second or two, apparently trying to catch his
breath.  And then he continues.  "Aie.  Now that I've told you who I am,
and what I'm all about, what's the deal with you lot?  Not too many
folks can survive out there in the Amazon Desert for very long."

"Not very many at all..."

?

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Wed, 01 Dec 1999 14:46:54 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

After you accept the offer of those men below, Ronin, their leader cries
up to you.  "Come!  We have roast fhorge on the grill!!  It will be a
most delectable a feast than we have had in weeks!!!"  With that, the
leader of the group of men (using the term loosely) takes off.

And starts singing.

Though the human has a somewhat squeaky singing voice, his three dwarven
friends make up for that with their baritone, almost opera-house vocal
quality.  The band of minders from the inn down the hill simply march
on, expecting you to follow.

Assuming that you do, you see that, when you arrive in this little
village, that it primarily consists of five buildings.  The first, of
course, is the inn you stand before now.  Two others are apparently
homes of some sort, the fourth is some sort of store.

And the fifth seems to be some kind of outhouse.

Looking in the stylish double doors into the inn, you can see that the
party has already started, most likely before you even showed up in this
confusing place.  And you can see this apparent 'fhorge' the men
mentioned, for there's a large, pig-like creature being cooked now.

It's indeed on a spit, hanging over a fiery grill.  The thing looks like
it could be a pig, but it seems to have an inherent menace to its looks,
despite being deceased.  Also, it's got way too many tusks to be an
ordinary pig - or even a wild boar.  Curious.

?

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Wed, 01 Dec 1999 20:45:50 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

"Amazon!?!, thats the Amazon out there."  Looking suprised.  "Ah I am called 
'Stone Cold'.  How long has it been like that, the Amazon I mean?"

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Wed, 1 Dec 1999 15:51:08 -0500
From:    Douglas Lohse <LohseD@mscdirect.com>
 
"Trust me.  You wouldn't believe how we got out there.  Or how long we have
been out there for that matter.  What year is it, by the way?"

Rebound takes a close look around at the chamber looking for some hint of
how things got to be the way they are.  Amazon Desert?!??!

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Wed, 01 Dec 1999 15:23:14 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

Alabaster looks at the two of you, seeing your obvious confusion.  "You
two're DEFINITELY not from around here.  Here, come with me, I'll show
you our archives.  They'll be able to learn you better'n anything I can
come up with.  M'not up on my global climatology and all that..."

He leads you down the maze of catwalks, each having at least one stair
well heading down to the next one.  As you pass the various doors to the
side, you can see that each is a room, physically dug out of the earth
around you, and serving as something akin to a one room apartment.

Most of 'em on the upper levels, at least.

As you get towards the bottom, you see that the rooms switch to more of
a storage variety, holding arms, food, spare parts, and all sorts of odd
goodies.  On the bottom level, the one with that weird, octagonal silo
type door on the floor, the rooms are all computerized.

Leading you into one door, Alabaster presents to you a computer console
that seems far in advance of anything you've ever seen.  "Roight.  Okay,
Percy, I want you to give these two buggers access to your historical
texts - anything they need to know that isn't 'sensitive'."

Percy, who is apparently the computer before you, answers in a slightly
digitized, yet clear and concise voice.  "Sure thing, Alabaster.  Ask
away, gentlemen."  Assuming that you repeat your questions to Percy,
here, the thing gives you the following answers.

"The Amazon Desert has been extant for over eight hundred years, forming
in the years immediately following the actions of a lone Varakni
scientist who knocked the earth off its vertical axis in the year 2000,
in an attempt to bring his people back into preeminence on earth."

"He was largely successful, though the world has been in ecological
turmoil ever since.  You see, he altered the degree of rotation such
that the Antarctic continent would be a sub-tropical clime, thus melting
the polar ice caps and causing a general rise in earth's temperature."

"The desert came into being due to these conditions, as the tropical
forest here slowly withered and died due to this scientist's
irresponsible actions.  And, to answer your other question, the year, as
you say, is currently 2973.  Any other questions?"

?

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Wed, 01 Dec 1999 21:30:31 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

"Oh my goodness, not here again.  Dang.  Where's a drink when you needed 
it."  Says Stone Cold, looking suddenly depressed.

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Wed, 1 Dec 1999 16:32:54 -0500
From:    Douglas Lohse <LohseD@mscdirect.com>

"Who was this scientist?  How did he shift the Earth?  Where did he do
this?"

Rebound is starting to get a little bit worried...

"Stone Cold,  Do you think this has anything to do with that Morbis goon?"

Rebound pauses in thought...  "2973???!?!  Oh, we are SOOOO screwed!"

Rebound continues to ask the computer for information on the Varakni and
their rogue scientist.

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Wed, 01 Dec 1999 15:57:44 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

Percy looks at the two of you for a moment, and seems to be thinking (as
computers tend to do when they try anything more complicated than
beating you at Solitaire), and within a minute, Alabaster returns with
icy refreshments.

"Percy said the two of you could use one of these..."

As Alabaster passes out the icy drinks, Percy continues to answer your
questions.  Well, cloaked one, the Varakni scientist who did this went
primarily by the name of A-lonse, though he had many aliases.  Though
his people were content to exist in secret, he was not."

"As such, he left his hidden Antarctic city in the year 1998, to the
best of history's recollection, and set about a plan to destroy human
civilization, primarily by ushering in a new ice age, one eons in
advance of the natural planetary cycle."

"Of course, this plot was abruptly stopped one year later by a band of
vigilante metahumans who defeated him and, at the same time, destroyed
the man's resurrected hero, Morbis.  These vigilantes then delivered
A-lonse to the police with a mild concussion and several wounds."

"However, A-lonse would not let this defeat stop him, and as such, once
he got out of jail on several technicalities, he built a massive device
deep underground, on the island of Madagascar, which he used to throw
the entire planet of its standard rotational axis a year later."

"The results of his actions lie before you.  Now, with the polar ice
caps melted, the Varakni people came to dominate the world, as their
continent was now the only easily habitable one, and the rest of the
world's industrial base had been wiped out in A-lonse's cataclysm."

"Groups of humans have tried repeatedly over the years to overthrow the
Varaknis Imperium, but have failed due to the Varakni's vastly superior
technology, and the simple fact that the human oppositon could never get
organized enough.  Most humans simply exist in small bases like this."

"Those not ruled by the Imperium, that is."

?

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Wed, 01 Dec 1999 21:51:23 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

Shifting from his stone form to remove some of the weight, Stone Cold is 
sitting on the floor virtually sulking.  "NO place like home, own home, own 
time."  Hearing Rebound in between his spaces, sounding like 'Rainman'.  
"Yep, screwed definitely screwed.  Out of time, way out of time."

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Wed, 1 Dec 1999 17:32:15 -0500
From:    Douglas Lohse <LohseD@mscdirect.com>
 
"I (long series of expletives deleted)HATE being screwed by other people's
damned stupid ideas.  OK, Alabaster, You and Percy want to know the whole
story?  Well, WE are two of the 'metahumans' that put Morbius down for the
count.  The fallout from that battle shot our happy little, or in his
case,(gesturing towards Stone Cold) big, butts to this seriously warped
future.  Do either of you know of anyone or anything that can get us back to
our own time so we can prevent this whole mess in the first place?"

Rebound starts pacing around the room like a caged animal mumbling to
himself something about needing someone to hit.

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Thu, 02 Dec 1999 00:29:30 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

Alabaster stops suddenly, seemingly nervous, for some reason, that he's
got two rather unstable metahumans in his immediate presence all of a
sudden.  Stone Cold doing his best Rain Man imitation, and Rebound doing
his best Friggin' Psycho imitation.  Only they're not imitations.

"Er."  He backs out of the room, and seems a bit more comfortable now
that he's got the room he needs to run for his life, if necessary.  "So,
I'm to take it that you lot are time travelers, wot?  Pull the other
one, it's got bells on."

Alabaster seems to believe otherwise, but Percy the computer doesn't seem
so convinced that you two're bonkers.  Possibly since it's a computer,
and doesn't get easily fazed by nutball super humans in its midst. 
"You're from the past?  You should recognize this man, then."

Percy shows the two of you a picture, one labeled A-lonse.  Looking at
it, you can see that it is, in deed, the Varakni you saw in the sewers
when you and Ken first met the others, Rebound, and you can both see
that he is the guy you fought on that hover platform underground.

Assuming that at least one of you nods in the affirmative, Percy
continues.  "In that case, you are either Varaknis spies or truly from
the past, as only their high command knows what A-lonse actually looks
like - except for Alabaster and myself, of course."

Percy pauses with that, allowing what he said to sink in.  Looks, as in
present tense...

?

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Thu, 02 Dec 1999 13:31:09 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

"Lost in time, lost in space......  The Key."  "Computer?  Are there any 
remnants of the Stellar Key anywhere?  That can get us home, it worked 
before."  Snapping out of his melancholy state to think a little more 
clearly.

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Thu, 2 Dec 1999 08:49:52 -0500
From:    Douglas Lohse <LohseD@mscdirect.com>

"Man, I'm pissed now.  That loser was the schmuck behind it all?  OK, how
the hell do we get back to the past and wipe the floor with that
techno-geek?  Look, Alabaster, we're not crazy.  We may be a millenium out
of our time, but we're just regular folks with some unusual problems.  If I
wanted to hurt you, I would have already taken you down, so relax already.
Geez.  You know of any pieces of the 'stellar key' lying around like my
friend here was asking?"

Rebound tries to look as unthreatening as possible.

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Thu, 02 Dec 1999 14:05:38 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

"Say what?  And how would you know?"

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Thu, 02 Dec 1999 14:31:58 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

Alabaster shrugs.  "M'not sure 'bout no Stellar Key, fellas... how 'bout
you, Percy?"  The computer grinds its gears for a little while, and then
spits it out.  "Well, according to the Varaknis historical mainframe,
no.  Apparently, the thing was totally annihilated back in 1999."

"There's a long treatise by A-lonse here on how several accursed, dirty
vigilantes (a group I guess includes you, then) pooled their powers to
destroy the artifact and the soul it was hosting.  Though it has been
done, one COULD comb the area of the Key's destruction to make sure."  

"I highly doubt you'd find anything, though.  If any remnant of this
Stellar Key remains in existence, the man who likely holds it is A-lonse
himself, who currently resides in the capital of the Varaknis Imperium -
or possibly even off-planet by now."

"As far as any other technology of that type is concerned, technology to
travel through time, I am not aware of its existence.  If there are such
devices extant, one would most likely find them in the Imperium's main
research and development laboratories."

"There are a few on the planet, still, deep within Antarctica, but most
of those are also off-planet, either in orbit or on other planetary
systems altogether."  As it hears your other questions, Percy stops,
grinding his gears for a moment or two.

"To answer your other question, Stone Cold (if that is your name), I am
aware of A-lonse's appearance as I was present when he personally
destroyed the vast majority of the Cobra forces that were formerly holed
up in this facility."

"Though he has taken to hiding his appearance since, and has expunged
all records of such from his own nation's computer database, I have
maintained a hard copy printout of it ever since he annihilated my - and
Alabaster's - old bosses here."

Alabaster looks down, and shuffles his feet a bit.  He then looks back
at you, sort of peeved.  "And I'm not scared of yer, or nuffin.  Just
coverin' the possibilities, and all.  It's not like aie've known yer all
my life or anything.  Oy."

?

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Thu, 2 Dec 1999 15:36:25 -0500
From:    Douglas Lohse <LohseD@mscdirect.com>

"Well, Stone Cold, it looks like we have to go pay this A-lonse a visit, or
at least make a run on the research and development labs in the capitol."

Rebound speaks to Alabaster, trying to hide his urgency and not offend what
he expects is his only ride out of the desert.

"So Alabaster, you were with Cobra, eh?  Don't worry, I won't hold it
against you.  I bet Cobra was better for the world than this Varaknis
Imperium.  Do you feel up to a run on the capitol?  That is, if you're not
scared..."

(OK, so only a little offensive)

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Thu, 02 Dec 1999 20:39:47 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

"Don't worry if I wanted ya, you could run far enough.  Damn!  Imperium HQ, 
hunh?  What do ya think Rebound, we have to get out of here somehow and find 
the others."  Said Stone Cold, relaxing a little bit more.

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Thu, 02 Dec 1999 15:21:19 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

Alabaster looks at you in response to your statements, Rebound, and
you're not sure if he's miffed or not - but then, he seems to be a
little bit pissy to begin with.  "You got that right.  Time was that
Cobra was just a bunch of bad guys, but then them Varakni showed up."

"Kinda puts things in perspective, you know.  And, since we had the only
standing, non-centralized army around, we were humanity's best bet.  Too
bad we lost, wot?  But no worries.  You want to make a run on the
capitol, I'm game.  I'll have the hauler ready by morning."

"And don't you worry, Mister Stone Cold.  If there's some way to get you
two back to your time here on earth, I'm sure as Hell gonna help you get
it.  After all, if you get home, knowing what you know, mebbe you can
stop that bugger A-lonse from wreckin' the world, eh?"

Alabaster lets you digest the idea, and then continues.  "Well then, if
we're gonna stage ourselves a little troublemakin', we ought to get you
two well rested beforehand, now, shouldn't we?  There's a spare barracks
up on the next level, door number 17.  You c'n have it for the night."

"Come mornin', we'll have us a right good breakfast, and then load up
for the attack... or whatever we wind up doing.  Does that work for ye
two right tough bashers?  And to answer yer other question, buddy - I
ain't scared of NO Varakni!"

?

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Thu, 2 Dec 1999 16:25:06 -0500
From:    Douglas Lohse <LohseD@mscdirect.com>

"A good nights sleep would go a long way towards getting me sorted out.  How
about you, Stone Cold?"

"Hey, Percy, do you have any details on the capitol and/or the research
facilities?  Street maps, floor plans, troop strengths, or anything else
that might be helpful?  Once we get down there I doubt there'll be much time
for planning, and I've never been one to think about strategy too much.
More of a hit 'em hard and see what falls down philosophy.  Besides, I doubt
that these buggers have come up with a way to stop me in the past thousand
years.  Well, then again, maybe they have, but nothing from my time was able
to do it.  Ah, screw it, let's just grab as much firepower as we can carry
and take whatever we need."

Rebound listens to Percy's response and then heads up to the spare barracks
to get some sleep.

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Fri, 03 Dec 1999 12:48:45 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

Stone Cold agrees despite his worry and concern for the up coming day. 'What 
happened to Tammy?'  As he heads off to bed and hopefully rest.

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Thu, 02 Dec 1999 22:11:53 -0600
From:    "Christopher W. Acers" <cwacers@home.com>

Masque starts to drool. 

"The other white meat."

Masque turns to Ronin.

"You wouldn't have any idea where we are would ya? There is magic all
over the place and that doughnut deal out there on the spire...it seems
to be siphoning all the magic into it.....you there.."

He points to the 'leader' of the group that brought us here.

"We do appreciate yer hospitality and yer kindness, especially to a
mage and his friend, but where might we be? As you can tell we aren't
from around here and I am personally wondering if beings just manifest
themselves out here all the time?"

Although he seems to be in his right mind, he still can't help but stare
at the roasting 'pig', as it were and starts to look impatient as if all
this talk is not what he wants to do right about now.....

<there seems to be a hair in my underwear>

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Thu, 02 Dec 1999 17:39:46 EST
From:    "Peter Chamers" <lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com>

>Masque starts to drool.

>"The other white meat."

Ronin does a face palm in traditional anime style.

>Masque turns to Ronin.

>"You wouldn't have any idea where we are would ya? There is magic all
>over the place and that doughnut deal out there on the spire...it seems to 
>be siphoning all the magic into it.....you there.."

The Swordsman frowns (again). "Wizard, if you have no way of knowing where 
we are, then I am completely at a loss."

Ronin looks towards the spire.  "Is that construct...dangerous to you then?"

>He points to the 'leader' of the group that brought us here.

>"We do appreciate yer hospitality and yer kindness, especially to a
>mage and his friend, but where might we be? As you can tell we aren't
>from around here and I am personally wondering if beings just manifest 
>themselves out here all the time?"

Ronin stiffens a bit at being demoted to 'a mage's friend' ie sidekick 
status.

Ronin adds in trying to fix up Masque's hasty blurting. "Err... as my friend 
says, we are new here as you know.  We're just wondering if other travellers 
have come here as you did not seem surprised by our arrival."

>Although he seems to be in his right mind, he still can't help but stare at 
>the roasting 'pig', as it were and starts to look impatient as if all this 
>talk is not what he wants to do right about now.....

Ronin bows (slightly) to the Leader and his men. "May we join you? Talk is 
always better over a meal."

Ronin .oO(Greedy fat bellied mage!  He'd better get us out of here or I will 
fillet him like shashimi and roast him on a spit!)

Ronin smiles almost goofily.

<where does he get these quotes?!?>

Subject: Re: [v13] Twisted Happenings
Date:    Thu, 02 Dec 1999 23:28:59 -0600
From:    "William H. Lockwood" <albedo1@home.com>

Jinx tenses for a moment as she sees Clutch's gun trained on her, but
relaxes a bit when she sees him lower it away from her.

"Just a bit anxious, eh? I mean, I can understand you wanting to get
even for that accident we had back a while, but come on! You didn't even
give me a chance to really make it up to you!" she shot back at him
through a grin.

"Undercover, eh? Well count me in! I just got done helping take out some
guy named Morbius and ended up here someone when the key he stuck himself
in blew up after it took a beating. I could use some more mundane mayhem
for a change!" she explained as she hopped into the passenger seat of
the jeep.

Just then she noticed the envelope still gripped in her hand, "Hmmm...I
wonder what that guy with the charred puss wanted and how the hell he
knew my name. Well, let's see what this letter says!" she thought
out loud as she used her vibro-blade to deftly slit the envelope open.

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Fri, 03 Dec 1999 00:58:36 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

The leader of the assembled beings here (and beings is more appropriate
than 'men', in that the place is chock full of dwarves and strange,
centaur-like folks who have features more akin to rams than horses -
including the head-mounted horns) shrugs.

"Well, people don't, as a general rule, manifest from sheer nothingness
'round here - they mostly do it via some portal or another.  Less'n of
course they're some top-shelf kind of mage who can do that sort of
thing.  But then, you should know that, wizard."

As you speak up, Ronin, the man's face brightens up.  "Ah, I think that
I understand, then.  You two're new to these parts, what with you bein'
all clueless about the Spire, there.  Well, in case you berks need to
know, you've found yourselves in the quaint town of Bludgeon."

"Of course, Bludgeon itself is in the rather homely plane that folks to
call the Outlands, though we Bludgeonites like to refer to it as simply
'the Land'."  The man stops, then, and stands up to address his many
fellows.  "Hey, everybody, say hello to our new, Clueless friends!"

Everybody hoots out in response to that, some with condolence and some
with barely-friendly insults.  "Here, here!  Dinner's on us, my friends.
Let's show you berks that all of us fellows from the Great Ring ain't
such surly sods!"

The chef, a really big, greasy guy who resembles, in theory, his work
more than he ought to, cuts off several large chunks of fhorge meat and
puts 'em on a bigass plate, along with a hunk of cheese and a hunk of
bread.  And the bartender gets the two of you two mugs of ale each.

"Drink up, lads!  There's more'n enough to go around tonight!"  As you
carry the food off, three of the centaur-ish beings go to get something
to eat, themselves, but you can see them looking upon the fhorge with
more than a little disdain.

In unison, all three of them say "We'll have the salad."  

As you sit, the human guy has a seat next to you, and tries to elucidate
on his previous 'answer' to your question.  "Well, son, we do have lots
of visitors around these parts, but then, being that the Land is the
center of the Great Wheel, folks from all kinds of places drop by."

He pauses, his eyes suddenly narrowing.  "Folks like that."  Following
his gaze, the two of you can see that three other folks have entered the
inn, and they don't look anywhere near as pleasant as the people that
are already populating the place.

They look positively monstrous in appearance.  Their leader is about
eight feet tall, and has a generally humanoid form, but is covered in
fur and has, instead of a human face, that of a jackal.  Behind her (and
the form is positively female) rest two insectoid men.

Well, insectoid in that they have a thick exoskeleton, and large, widely
spaced apart bug-eyes.  Both of them are wielding rather vicious looking
pikes, with spiky, serrated edges.  Their boss isn't armed, but you have
the horrid notion she doesn't need to be.

After all, she's got those needle-like teeth.

The quiet descends over the Bludgeon Inn like a shroud, and you can
literally feel the tension in the air as the creatures make their way up
to the spit.  Once there, their leader speaks, in a surprisingly
seductive voice.  "Is dinner still on...?"

?

Subject: Re: [v13] Twisted Happenings
Date:    Fri, 03 Dec 1999 01:19:28 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

"Hey, sorry, babe.  Didn't know it was you.  After all, it's not all
that often that a Jersey boy like myself has a friend pop out of the
alleys of a cruddy city like this to say hello, and all.  Just one of
them reflexes, ya know what I mean?"

As you sit down to open up the letter, you see Clutch looking over your
shoulder with more than a passing interest.  Pulling the papers out of
the letter, you find that they are, in fact, addressed to yourself - not
Jinx, but your real name - Natasha Huston!

Reading on, you find the following message:

Dear Natasha:

Welcome to Los Angeles!  You've arrived just in time to take advantage
of a truly unique opportunity.  Yes, that's right, I am extending to you
a once in a lifetime chance to make your dreams come true!  I extend an
invitation to participate in this year's Twisted Metal contest!

In case you don't know what I speak of (and how could you), this is an
contest to determine just who is the best vehicular combatant on earth,
based right here, in Los Angeles!  For the last three years, I have
tested the best of the best, and now it's your turn to shine!!

With your partner, Clutch, you should be quite a competent player, and
should help to make the contest even more entertaining for all involved.
Now, feel free to show up at this address tomorrow night - Christmas Eve
- and we'll get the ball rolling!

I know you won't refuse, simply because I will grant the winner of the
Twisted Metal contest any prize - ANY PRIZE - that they desire, no
matter how expensive, difficult to acquire, or even improbable.  Be
seeing you soon!

                                                           - Calypso

Enclosed in the letter is a non-descript address which you guess belongs
to an abandoned parking garage - what with the enclosed photograph being
an image of such a place.  Of course, it sounds nice, especially the
prize, but there's just one problem.

How'd this Calypso guy know that you'd be spontaneously appearing here
in Los Angeles?  Much less that you'd run into Clutch right after he
delivered that letter to you?  And, while you're at it, how did you lose
a month!?  Things look kinda creepy...

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Fri, 03 Dec 1999 08:26:11 -0600
From:    "Christopher W. Acers" <cwacers@home.com>

Masque looks at the jackyl lady and says;

"Are you Egyptian?"

<I just make them up>
<In Hell, they give you accordions>

Subject: Re: [v13] Lost In Space...?
Date:    Fri, 3 Dec 1999 11:45:35 -0800
From:    "Michael Joiner Jr" <ultimental@onebox.com>

> Most curious.  Most curious, indeed..."

Reaper continues to stare at the mushroom-like alien with a slightly
bewildered look...
 
> With that, one of the robots points an object at you, and it starts to
> hum merrily.  A bluish beam issues forth from the device, bathing you 
> and Ken in its subtle brilliance.  You feel no pain from the beam,
> though you can nonetheless sense it penetrating your very form.

Reaper stiffens reflexively, his stare becoming more alarmed than puzzled.
His eyes narrow as he endures their examination.  Feeling the penetrating
effect of the beam, but nothing malicious, he slowly calms, although
still in a more heightened state of anxiety than before...
 
> "Ah, I see, now.  My apologies.  I was only aware of two variants of
> your species - I see that you come from stock over two thousand
> generations separate from either the Varakni or Granx't races - and
> something else altogether.  Again, I do apologize for the insult."

"...my species?..." Reaper says in a low, curious tone.

> The mushroom-thing bows, almost in supplication; apparently, naming you
> as one of these other, offshoot races of humanity is something of a
> grave insult in intergalactic parts.  "After all, not having encountered
> one of your type, I cannot pre-judge your behavioral tendencies."

Reaper shakes his head slowly, raising his shoulders to indicate he has
no idea what the mushroom is talking about, but willing to go along...

> "But I am remiss in my manners.  My name is, though it loses something
> in the translation into your tongue, approximately Gray Stump On The
> Lake.  I am of the Mhungus, a proud and ancient people who, if I am
> correct, originated in your galaxy."

> "This here is, again the translation misses something, Most Brightest
> 750 TeraHertz.  He is my Jl'rtz friend, and the current manager of
> the station you have found yourself on.  As for the others, these two
> Mechani are Most Brightest 750 TeraHertz's staff, Transmission and Nut.

> The two robot bow in unison.

> "Of course, I have yet to learn your identity, that of your friend,
> and how you came to materialize within this way station.  I do hope 
> there's a possibility of your educating us in this regard.  After all, it must
> be a most interesting tale..."

"Uh...well, its nice to 'meet' you guys I guess.  I am...I'm called Reaper.
 This is my... friend, Kevin.  I don't really know 'where' we are right
now, or for that matter 'where' we came from.  Just that its been a real...'interesting' couple of days."  

He looks down to the book in his hands, "In the...world? we came from
there was a book... kinda like this one, actually not really like it at
all.  It had alot of power...magic stuff...."

He frowns as he thinks back on it, "We, that is Kevin, me, and a buncha
others, we all fought this person...someone trying to take over our world
or something like that.  We fought him and I guess we beat him, only
everything went nuts and next thing I know is we're here.  At least he
and I are..."

"Where exactly *is* here?" He asks sheepishly.

Subject: Re: [v13] Twisted Happenings
Date:    Fri, 03 Dec 1999 19:28:57 -0600
From:    "William H. Lockwood" <albedo1@home.com>

Jinx just nods in Clutch's direction as she fiddles with the invitation.

"Is this what you came to LA to investigate? If so, it looks like this
Calypso goon already knows you're here," she mentioned to Clutch as she
began thinking (an uncomfortable process, indeed).

"Speaking of that, how the hell does this guy know who I am and that I
was going to be here?! I mean, the ink is still dry!" she exclaimed as
she waved the letter about.

Subject: Re: [v13] Twisted Happenings
Date:    Sat, 04 Dec 1999 15:21:33 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

"Well, Hawk suspected that this guy might have some sort of unknown
power or information source, which is why he sent me down here to
investigate this little riot he's been staging in L.A. every Christmas
Eve for the last three years."

"That and the obvious reasons, of course."  Looking forward, you follow
Clutch's gaze to see the ... thing ... he's looking at.  It looks like
some kind of old-fashioned, pig-iron train engine - with a rocket
strapped to the back, and decked out with guns and missile launchers.

Of course, since whoever's driving the thing down this L.A. street is
doing so without the benefit of an actual rail, per se, the engine's
leaving a nice trail in the concrete behind it, as it pulls up about two
inches of road as it passes.

"Okay, so here's the deal, Jinx.  With that little invite you've got, we
have an in.  We're not here to compete in this silly contest, only to
minimize property damage caused by whatever retards have come here to
take part in this thing."

"If we get a shot at the bigwig, a clear shot that won't leave us
vulnerable, we take it.  You dig?"  While he waits for your answer,
Clutch adds one teeny, tiny little caveat.  "Of course, the prick in
that train's MINE.  Capeesh?"

?

Subject: Re: [v13] Lost In Space...?
Date:    Sat, 04 Dec 1999 16:02:23 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

"Uuugh..."  Looking down, you see that Ken, there, is slowly coming to -
or, at least, is giving it the ol' college try.  "Ken.  It's Ken, not
Kevin.  Urgh..."  He tries to sit up, but fails, and Ken suddenly seems
a bit unconscious again.  He's quit convulsing, though.

So that's one good thing.

"To answer your question, being of earth (and I do believe that is what
your fellow species-types denoted your world as being called), you are
on what we call the Way-station, a facility situated between two of the
galaxies within the sphere of Mhungus influence."

"This is a place that travelers can use in the long trek between the
galaxies to stop, relax, and get out of their pilot's chair in order to
get food, rest, and (most importantly) fuel.  The image most resembling
what we do, in your mind, would be a space truck stop, i suppose."

The Mhungus stops, looking embarrassed all of a sudden.  "Sorry, bad
habit of mine.  Didn't mean to flash through your brain like that." 
Taking a moment to recover, he rallies mightily.  "At any rate, let me
show you around, in the event that you'll be here a little while."

Gray Stump on the Lake, Most Brightest 750 TeraHertz, Transmission, and
Nut then turn back the way they came, though Transmission picks up poor,
unconscious Ken before doing so.  "I handle him, yes?"  Apparently
Transmission has picked up on your language a bit.

"Can carry my mass on any galactic body at up to 100 gravity units.  No
problem for Transmission."  The robot's facial features curl up in
something akin to a smile, but he looks like he hasn't quite got the
hang of it yet.  And it sounds almost Russian for some reason.

Assuming you follow (and don't blast Transmission for carrying Ken off),
the four aliens lead you around several bends, twists, and turns, and
into something that most closely resembles a garage.  There are dozens
of small space craft parked in the area.

Dozens more alien beings are tending to them, some being robotic in
nature (like these two Mechani here), and some being totally different
than anything you've ever seen before - in your wildest imaginations. 
"This is the hangar.  Ships that don't fit in here dock up outside."

Gray Stump On The Lake waves a tentacle at a large window to your left,
where you see one extended docking clamp hooked up to a ship about twice
the size of an aircraft carrier.  "That's our only big customer right
now, of course, but then, being out here, we take what we can get."

"Upstairs are the main hotel suites, restaurants, and what have you, and
the control decks are above those.  Below us lie the primary station
system components, like power plant, life support, etc., etc., etc... 
Anything else you would like to know?"

?

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Mon, 06 Dec 1999 02:33:16 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

Percy looks at you, Rebound (though that's something of a misnomer, as
the computer has no eyes to speak of), thinking for a minute.  It then
replies as best it can.  "Well, I don't have specific street names, but
the Varakni here on earth still cling to their old design principles."

"Their city is circular in design, issuing forth from their main capitol
building, the Coalescence.  This place is the seat of their power on
earth, though they've moved their capitol off-world in the last few
years - they still refuse to give earth back over to you human folk."

"Anyway, the city has several main avenues leading from the Coalescence,
each cut in turn by a major circular thoroughfare every half mile out
from the capitol building itself.  There's only about ten million
Varakni living on earth, still, so the military presence is small."

"Which is the only reason what you two are going to try will have any
ghost of a chance of survival."  Percy pauses and contemplates the
immediate future.  "I don't believe that you should go through with
this, though.  Stay here and live... please."

Though it knows the two of you are determined to at least attempt to get
home, Percy had to try.  It just stares at you (sort of) in a sullen
fashion as the two of you walk out to get your nights' sleep.  You can
tell how much a chance the computer thinks you actually have - none.

                                   ***

Waking up in the morning, the two of you feel as though you've slept the
sleep of the dead, as technically you haven't rested in about a thousand
years.  Pulling yourselves together, you can smell that Alabaster has
made good on one of his promises.

You smell bacon 'n eggs.  Cooking, even.  While the two of you were out,
somebody rolled out a large array of kitchen equipment over that Cobra
sigil'd silo door, and went about the creation of a veritable breakfast
feast.  

Pancakes (with blueberries or not, with optional pigs in a blanket add
on), toast (American or French), eggs (either scrambled, poached, or
sunny side up), bacon, ham, hash browns, and, best of all, mounds of ...
sausage links.  Because everybody likes sausage links.

There's a large group of folks getting food before you, but there's more
than enough to go around, so when you get up to Alabaster as he cooks
for his very life, you have your choice of breakfast vittles - and even
the option of milk, orange juice, or coffee.

"Why the confused faces, guys?  If we're gonna get ourselves right dead,
we may as well do it on a full stomach, neh?"  He then nabs himself a
heaping plate of pancakes and sausage links and sits down with you as
you eat.  Any last questions before you make yer moves?

(ooc:  by the by, sorry it took me so long to get back to you two on
this one; had a busy weekend and all that - and had to plan out the
little details I hadn't gotten to since this particular thread moved so
bloody fast... =)

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Mon, 06 Dec 1999 02:37:14 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

The creature looks at you and smiles, and you see absolutely no mirth in
that particular expression, Masque.  "Egyptian?  I don't believe so. 
Isn't that a curious culture from some earthen world?  If so, then the
answer would most definitely be no.  Why ever do you ask?"

The creature's twin, exo-skeleton'd minders look at you with more than a
little disdain, as though sizing you up to see how difficult it'd be to
transform you into a state akin to that of the roast fhorge there on the
spit.  You get the impression they'd eat you, too.

But they don't make a move..... yet...................

Subject: [v13] A Beginning... (Magus)
Date:    Mon, 06 Dec 1999 04:16:31 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

Metal.

You awoke with the sharp taste of iron in your mouth.  Everything was
still spinning about like mad, with floors and ceilings and walls set
around you in stationary locations, yet somehow revolving around you. 
Then you saw the structures on these surfaces.

As your vision came more into focus, you realized that you're not within
a room, but were instead in the outdoors - more or less.  You see, as
you study your environs, you see that the walls, ceilings, and
what-have-you in your vicinity are actually cogs.

Immense, continent-sized cogs.  In fact, your body is resting on but one
of these immense steel components, which seems to be immobile, but as
you study the gearscape you see that every single cog is in motion to
some extent or another - thus, yours probably is as well.

It gives the impression of being within some sort of clock-universe, as
you can see the gears trailing off into the far distance of this inky
black space, as far as mere vision will allow you to focus - and here,
that seems to be pretty darn far.

This makes your head hurt at first, but before you can descend into
sullen confusion, your ears are the next to discover something odd. 
Somewhere outside your field of vision (which is currently just facing
forward), you hear the sound of a quill scratching on parchment.

Looking around, you see this bizarre, alien creature, one made of both
flesh and clockwork, standing to your right.  It is about seven feet
tall, and would appear to be some sort of bio-mechanical starfish, held
aloft on tall, stilt-like legs.

Each of its five 'arms' has a cyclopean face on it; one eye, one mouth.
On top of the freakish thing you see some sort of device, which if you'd
ever saw one on your world you would equate with a hair dryer.  It's
currently pointed aimlessly into the air, and isn't blowing air.

It finishes writing on its parchment, and lays the paper upon your back,
at which point you realize that there are other sheets of the stuff on
your person already - seventeen, in fact.  The creature looks at you and
sighs.

"This is simply not good.  This creature must die or recover and move
on, else it will be a nuisance to the proper order of my sector
evermore..."  The thing then, with all five of its mouths, sighs. 
Having said its peace, it prepares to walk off.

What do you do, Magus?

Subject: [v13] A Beginning... (A.S.9)
Date:    Mon, 06 Dec 1999 04:47:52 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

High over the city of Pleasantview, New Jersey, corporate tycoon and
robotics genius Roy Shijitzu surveyed his domain - and make no mistake,
the small town of Pleasantview was, for all intents and purposes, his
tiny little kingdom within the United States of America.

Everything was well, to outward appearances, but something bothered Roy.
Pacing back and forth within his opulent office on the top floor of the
Ariel-Shijitzu building, Roy tried to put his finger on what his
intuition was trying to tell him, but even his mind couldn't succeed.

Frustrated, the man left his office, stalking the corridors of his
building until he made his way to a specific robotics laboratory three
stories down.  The laboratory door automatically opened when the cameras
above it recognized his presence (and various biological tell-tales).

Striding into the laboratory of his current up-and-coming innovator, Roy
scolded at the man's lack of personal hygiene; people, in his opinion,
simply shouldn't have facial hair of any type.  A well-shaven man was
the mark of a professional man as far as he was concerned.

And this innovator of his had a five inch beard, and was particularly
recalcitrant in his desire to keep it.  Oh, sure, Roy could simply
mangle the man's mind in order to force him to shave, but he didn't want
to risk losing any of that spark of genius that made him what he was.

"Hello, Professor Bestus.  I take it that, from the looks of things, the
current prototype is ready?"  Starting at the sound of Roy's voice, the
Professor dropped his cup of coffee, a large portion of it landing upon
the inactive form of the android.

Unseen by either of the roboticists, this caused the android to awaken.

"Y-y-yes, Mr. Shijitzu.  The ninth prototype is up and running, and need
only be turned loose upon whomever you wish to use as a test subject." 
The Professor euphemistically referred to the target of the assassin
droid, as the only real way to test a killer robot was to have it kill.

"Excellent.  Then crate up this monstrosity and have it shipped to Long
Island... my Accountant will have the address for you.  I just hope that
this android doesn't fail like your other creations, Bestus.  I still
remember that rampage A.S.3 went on, and if that happens again-"

Roy would've continued, but in a rare occurrence, he was cut off by one
of his subordinates.  "Don't worry, Mr. Shijitzu, I hampered the
operation of your neuropathic processor such that he can be creative,
but is bound to the company's will.  He will not deviate from his goal."

Roy sneered at Bestus, and the android on the table before him.  "We'll
see about that."  Professor Bestus then cleared out A.S.9's operating
memory, and began to write the proper behavior systems into his central
processor.

However, he was unaware of the effect a single drop of coffee was having
on A.S.9's neuropathic processor...

                                    ***

An unknown time later, you awaken in darkness, A.S.9.  Per your
programming, you kick loose the door to the crate you currently reside
within, only to see that it rests in some suburban back alleyway,
between what seems to be a gas station and an x-rated video store.

You find this weird, though, as you remember nothing of how you came to
be here, or even your life before waking up here.  However, as soon as
you stand up in the alley, information floods into your conscious mind -
starting with a name.

The name is Colonel Clayton Abernathy, code-named Hawk.  This man is the
leader of a specialized anti-terrorist strike force, and for reasons
unknown to you, is your current target - you seem to have the
overwhelming urge to kill the man.

He's a blonde man, about six foot tall, and the image you have of him
overlapping your visual sensors indicates that he typically wears a
generic, army green uniform, and is normally only armed with a Colt
M1911A1 semi-automatic sidearm.

Furthermore, the information springing to mind seems to indicate that
the man should be in a New York City federal courthouse within an hour,
and map coordinates leading you to that place are also present in your
conscious mind.

Just then, you spot an Army Jeep buzz past the buildings that abut this
alleyway, one containing three people - a Jeep that seems to contain
your quarry.  They're moving quite fast, of course, but they only passed
by a second ago.

What do you do?

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Mon, 6 Dec 1999 09:06:18 -0500
From:    Douglas Lohse <LohseD@mscdirect.com>

"Why the confused faces, guys?  If we're gonna get ourselves right dead,
we may as well do it on a full stomach, neh?"  He then nabs himself a
heaping plate of pancakes and sausage links and sits down with you as
you eat.  Any last questions before you make yer moves?

"What kind of firepower do these guys pack?  Is there anything I should know
about their weaknesses before we head out?"

Rebound pauses in the middle of his psychotic interrogative as he realizes
what might be at their disposal.

"Hey, do you have a satellite uplink in here anywhere?  If you do, I might
be able to get us some real useful information.  That is if the satellites
are still working.  If nobody has been giving them commands for the past
thousand years, they might just have enough fuel to get into position and
give us a look-see."

Rebound has forgotten about his breakfast in his excitement and is
practically jumping up and down hoping for a positive answer...

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Mon, 06 Dec 1999 17:44:22 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

Eating twice the normal helping of the largest plate.  Stone Cold blesses 
his food and digs in.  Looking around at Rebound and the others.  "What I'm 
still a growing boy.  No coffee please."  As he drinks one glass of milk, 
and juice.  "So when do we bounce.  Yeah, if we're going to die.  Might as 
well be on a full stomach."

Subject: Re: [v13] Twisted Happenings
Date:    Mon, 06 Dec 1999 19:07:52 -0600
From:    "William H. Lockwood" <albedo1@home.com>

Jinx frowns at the idea that yet another individual might have strange,
unknown super powers. She had no problems with super-powered people (she
was one, afterall), but people with near-omniscience really bugged the
hell out of her!

Jinx blinks when she sees the monstrous train eating up the roadway,
"Woah."

After clearing her head of that moment of beauty, she checks out the
jeep a bit better.

"Right, if we're going to enter in this competition and have even a
sliver of a chance to survive against that...thing...we're going to have
to be able to shoot back," eyeing the back of the jeep.

"Is that thing loaded?" she asked Clutch as she moved to the rear of the
jeep and examined the .50 caliber machine gun mounted there.

Subject: [v13] A.S.9 goes to work
Date:    Mon, 06 Dec 1999 22:56:13 CST
From:    "Randy Alexander" <as_nine@hotmail.com>

A.S.9 tries to reach the ally before his target gets out of range and uses his laser beams from his eyes to blow out one of the jeep tires, and then merge towards the Target with Razors unsheathed. "Someone need a shave?" A.S.9 stated in a Australian accent, and then startled himself by his comment and then continued on.

Subject: Re: [v13] A Beginning... (Magus)
Date:    Tue, 7 Dec 1999 01:36:31 -0500
From:    "Nathan Gecko" <nathangecko@yahoo.com>

<snip for shortness' sake>

> What do you do, Magus?

As my tongue licks at my lips in an attempt to be rid of the metallic taste
I slowly rise to my feet. Looking myself over to be sure my possessions are
still on person I pick up the sheets of parchment and glance over them
before looking up at the alien looking creature. "Pardon me," I croak at the
being as the parchness works it's way out of my throat, "I mean you nor your
sector any harm, and quite frankly I will be more than happy to make my path
out of here. Wherever here may be that is. Perhaps you would be good natured
enough to show me the way out?" Holding my arms loosely at my sides and at
the ready as my training and experience has taught me that not everyone is
often so kindhearted as they may appear nor as villainous.

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Tue, 07 Dec 1999 02:49:52 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

Alabaster looks at you and sighs, Rebound.  "Well, after the Varakni
finally crushed what was left of Cobra, they haven't really needed
anything resembling an army here on earth; oh, sure, they have one small
base, but that's about it."

"The rest of their armed presence consists of a well-trained, yet under
utilized police force.  These jerks mostly wear simple ablative plasteel
armor with an inherent deflector field nestled within, and are armed
with some sort of plasma rifles."

"They still, to this date, haven't been able to upgrade their weapons
technology to their - and our - former levels."  Alabaster doesn't
comment on this until everybody's done eating.  As far as your question,
Stone Cold, he simply replies "After breakfast."

Once you've both eaten, the people around you clear the cooking gear
from the silo door, and once everything's out of the way, several folks
head out and polish the door clean - sparkling clean.  With that done,
Alabaster calls out to Percy to open the thing up.

Percy does so, and with a dull rumbling under your feet, the eight
segments of the silo door withdraw into the floor beneath you, and the
sound of a heavy hydraulic lift kicking into gear after untold years
sounds out with an almost undead keening.

Within about thirty seconds, the object the lift is lifting up becomes
visible.  The thing is a tank.  It's black, with treads in a
non-rectangular pattern (taller in front than back), a wide,
glass-covered canopy up front, and a huge cannon mounted on top.

Its markings identify it as a Mark 27 H.I.S.S. tank.

Alabaster climbs up on the thing with abject glee, looking like a kid in
the grand-daddy of all candy stores, his older, etched features washing
away as his cheer overwhelms him.  He even sheds a tear as he mounts the
turret.  "Rail gun."

He swivels the turret, spinning in the thing in order to test it.  "This
is an improvement on the original model, the one made by ol' Doctor
Biggles-Jones in your time - the one she used to blast a shell clean
through even the mighty Megatron's torso - and into orbit."

You're not sure exactly who this Megatron fellow is that Alabaster
refers to, but he seems to hold that description in very, very high
regard.  "We'll be using this.  And here."  Alabaster throws twin guns
at you.  "These are the hand-held models.  Merry X-mas, no?  Hop on."

Assuming the two of you get on the lift, Alabaster commands Percy to
send the thing all the way up on top of the chamber, at which point he
turns the beast over, and once it starts, drives it onto the lift y'all
came into this place in yesterday.

Within a few minutes, the three of you are back on the surface, and you
see that the deadly sandstorm that marked your arrival in this temporal
matrix has ceased.  Before you, in all directions, you see nothing but
glimmering black sand, reflecting sunlight in a blinding glare.

>From within the tank, you can hear Percy's voice.  "Personality download
commencing.  I think it'll be rather nice to actually have a body again.
I suppose if I'm going to be rendered useless, I may at least do so in
style, no?"

Once Percy indicates that his 'mind transfer' is complete, Alabaster
wheels the tank into his aircraft, though he doesn't seem to be doing so
with his hands.  "Roight.  C'mon, you lot, let's go blow some stuff up,
a'reddy!"

The aircraft is running by the time the tank pulls into its' cargo bay.

Within another minute, assuming no objections on your part, the two of
you, Alabaster, and his flight crew are airborne.  You rocket over the
Amazon Desert at a breathtaking pace, Alabaster proving to be quite a
steady pilot in addition to a master chef and tank driver.

"Hokay, yer bastards.  We'll be comin' up on Antarctic City in about an
hour.  Our plan oughter be to break into some sort of central computer
or some such, possibly in the Coalescence, and to determine if the Man
has any time traveling technology."

"If so, we head straight there - even if it means we've gotta go
off-planet.  Sound good to you twose?"

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Tue, 07 Dec 1999 04:18:36 -0600
From:    "Christopher W. Acers" <cwacers@home.com>

> The creature looks at you and smiles, and you see absolutely no mirth in
> that particular expression, Masque.  "Egyptian?  I don't believe so.
> Isn't that a curious culture from some earthen world?  If so, then the
> answer would most definitely be no.  Why ever do you ask?"
 
"I suppose that answers my question...drat."

He turns to Ronin...

"I guess we ain't in Kansas anymore...double drat!"

He turns to the dog lady...

"Well, I was just wondering if you were some sort of God, one called
Anubis, That was a God in Ancient Egypt and probably still is but with
considerable less power now. Because if you were I might have to either
be very scared or very happy because you could give me stuff. wizards
love getting stuff. I remember one time I got this really keen lighter.
It was all chrome-like and even the wind wouldn't blow it out. Not even
when I took it out in a tornado. Although I don't remember what
happened  after I ventured outside after lighting the thing but when I
came to the lighter was still going along with my robes and I was
without eyebrows for awhile. Gosh those things...mine eyebrows that
is...are something one takes for granted. That whole raising one eyebrow
thing has absolutely no effect when one has no eyebrow to raise. Rather
Embarrassing if ya ask me and I know you will. I remember another
time...err...uhhhh..."

> The creature's twin, exo-skeletoned minders look at you with more than a
> little disdain, as though sizing you up to see how difficult it'd be to
> transform you into a state akin to that of the roast fhorge there on the
> spit.  You get the impression they'd eat you, too.

> But they don't make a move..... yet...................

Masque raises an eyebrow, 'cause he can... and slowly moves to another
table... one farther away from the bug things. He moves like someone
trying to move so no one notices he is moving, like a dog slowly
slinking away form his owner when he has been caught. And besides, if
you move slow enough no one notices you...

"...Umm... they aren't going to eat me are they? Being eaten isn't
necessarily a good thing for a mage. We don't care much for that, not at
all"

Masque sits down.....

Very slow-like.

<Yoni is Sanskrit for Vagina>

Subject: Re: [v13] A Beginning... (Magus)
Date:    Tue, 07 Dec 1999 03:29:31 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

You're not quite sure where you are, or how you got yourself blipped
away from your beautiful, native, and (most importantly) organic realm,
but you can nonetheless read the scripting on these parchments.  Each of
them is a littering fee - naming you as both the litter and litterer.

Each lists a 5 gold piece fine.

"Well, sir, I would be most happy to oblige your person in his quest to
remove himself from my sector, and the beautiful plane of Mechanus in
its entirety, as you are not what we would call a native, by any stretch
of the term.  However, there is the matter of your littering fines..."

"If you would be so happy as to pay them, I can escort you to the
nearest portal leading away from our realm of most perfect order.  After
all..."  The creature looks at you in an odd way, with something akin to
disapproval, and says "... you are not orderly like we Modrons."

?

Subject: Re: [v13] A.S.9 goes to work
Date:    Tue, 07 Dec 1999 03:40:57 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

You lurch around the corner as fast as you can, and your laser eyes fire
a burst of ultra-deadly laser light at the tires of the jeep holding
your quarry, but you barely miss the thing.  You cause a small explosion
right next to the Jeep as it rounds a bend in the road.

Though hidden from view by a McDonalds, you can nonetheless hear voices
from the Jeep.  "Jumpin' Jesus, Rock 'n Roll - you taking driving
lessons from Clutch?"  "No, sir - just trying to save your pretty head
from being magically transformed into a fine red mist.  Look!"

You get the impression that the occupants of the Jeep are currently
looking at the smoking hole you created behind them in the asphalt. 
"Ambush!  Floor it, Rock 'n Roll!"  This voice was female, and sounded
decidedly... tough.  Very, very determined, that one.

The Jeep punches it into high gear, moving away at a significant clip,
though it seems to be taking mad turns onto every side street it
encounters, its driver attempting to prevent you from getting a straight
shot at him and his fellows.

Within moments, it seems to be lost in the suburban jungle around you.
However, you do know where the occupants of said vehicle are headed, so
that's no great loss.  Knowledge of the future can come in real handy
when used properly...

What next?

Subject: Re: [v13] Twisted Happenings
Date:    Tue, 07 Dec 1999 04:10:14 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

"'Is this thing loaded?', she asks.  Jeez, babe, you think I'd bring my
V.A.M.P. into a combat zone without the twin .50 cal cannons loaded up
for bear?  You don't think I'm very smart, do you...?"  He drives along
a bit farther, and then turns off the road, away from the train.

Before you can protest, he continues.  "Of course, we don't get to give
mister pig-iron free air conditioning JUST yet, mind you.  See, we
aren't allowed to open fire until this whole thing starts.  That's when
we get to put folks down for warrin' in public.  Capeesh?"

(theoretical response space)

Driving around Los Angeles for about an hour longer, Clutch settles in
to park at what looks to be a rather expensive hotel - above and beyond
what you'd expect an Army budget to afford.  When the door man comes up
to the V.A.M.P., Clutch hops out and grabs his rucksack.

"Here ya go, Jeeves, make sure you park it inside the hotel - the
service entrance, even.  We wouldn't want the hotel to get sued because
you let some jerk walk off with this expensive piece of government
hardware, now, do we?  Didn't think so."

Walking inside, Clutch charges up a deluxe room for the two of you,
complete with a twelve pack of Corona and unlimited room service for the
night.  "Hey, if Hawk don't like it, he shouldn't send me into a war
zone with no backup, right?  Right?"

?

Subject: [v13] Re: Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Tue, 07 Dec 1999 16:42:17 EST
From:    "Peter Chamers" <lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com>

>But they don't make a move..... yet...................

Ronin grabs Masque by the front of his robes and literally pulls his 
attention back towards the conversation at hand.

"Leave those creatures alone" he growls.

Subject: [v13] Re: Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Tue, 07 Dec 1999 16:49:19 EST
From:    "Peter Chamers" <lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com>

> "Is dinner still on...?"

Ronin drinks deeply from his brew.  In a lower tone, he asks the Leader, 
"Where do those creatures originate from?"

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Tue, 07 Dec 1999 16:37:10 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

The creatures pay the human amongst these folks a copious amount of
money, and as such, he reluctantly gives each of 'em a plate that is of
a size only slightly larger than your own; after all, these strange
beings are bigger'n you.

The man who served your (and their) dinner has a seat at your table. 
"You would do good to listen to your swordsman friend, there, mage. 
Those beasties are yugoloths, and aren't to be trifled with - less'n, of
course, you like your trouble offered up in extra large servings."

As soon as he says that, of course, said beasties sit down at a table
opposite your own, and converse amongst themselves in a language you're
not quite familiar with.  The sound of it puts one in mind of whispering
sands and the decay of that which was beautiful.

The leader of these outlandish beings then laughs heartily, causing
everybody in the room to alternately shiver or put their hands on their
weapons - it's an eerie laugh.  In a lurch, the trio finishes their meal
and then makes their way out.

"So sorry to eat and run, but we must be off.  After all, my company
awaits me nearby, and we do have a job to do.  Adieu!"  The twin,
insectoid minders of the jackal-headed woman walk out, but the leader
herself stops and stares at you for a moment first, Masque.

As they leave, the man answers your question, Ronin.  "Those foul
bastards originate from the lowest depths of the Gray Waste, though
they've taken to living on the plane of Gehenna this last eon or three.
Absolutely the worst kinds of fiends you can run into."

"Now, them Tanar'ri will just kill you berks right out, and the Baatezu
will bind your souls in contract upon contract until you suffocate, but
them Yugoloths are almost the embodiment of pure, unadulterated evil -
they turn even the most good and righteous into their tools."

"Bloody bastards."

?

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Tue, 07 Dec 1999 17:46:17 EST
From:    "Peter Chamers" <lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com>

>"So sorry to eat and run, but we must be off.  After all, my company
>awaits me nearby, and we do have a job to do.  Adieu!"  The twin,
>insectoid minders of the jackal-headed woman walk out, but the leader
>herself stops and stares at you for a moment first, Masque.

The young samurai notices the visual exchange and frowns deeply. Definitely 
not a good omen, that.

>As they leave, the man answers your question, Ronin.  "Those foul
>bastards originate from the lowest depths of the Gray Waste, though
>they've taken to living on the plane of Gehenna this last eon or three.  
>Abolutely the worst kinds of fiends you can run into."

>"Now, them Tanar'ri will just kill you berks right out, and the Baatezu 
>will bind your souls in contract upon contract until you suffocate, but 
>them Yugoloths are almost the embodiment of pure, unadulterated evil - they 
>turn even the most good and righteous into their tools."

>"Bloody bastards."

Ronin looks towards where the trio left, slightly disturbed at the thought 
of a 'company' of such fiends roaming about.

Turning back to his dinner companions. "Perhaps you could educate a stranger 
further as I am a...'berk' was it?  What other beings inhabit this place and 
what are they like?"

Ronin pats his sword reassuringly.  Let those fiends cross his path again 
and they would taste the Thunder Cutter's steel....

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Wed, 08 Dec 1999 06:02:44 -0600
From:    "Christopher W. Acers" <cwacers@home.com>

>>"So sorry to eat and run, but we must be off.  After all, my company
>>awaits me nearby, and we do have a job to do.  Adieu!"  The twin,
>>insectoid minders of the jackal-headed woman walk out, but the leader
>>herself stops and stares at you for a moment first, Masque.

Masque waves.

"Tootooloo!"

> The young samurai notices the visual exchange and frowns deeply. Definitely
> not a good omen, that.

"I don't think 'she' liked me very much and Mister Sassy-pants, I don't
appreciate being handled like that unless I paid for it and quite
frankly my friend, I'm not giving you a dollar!"

He turns smugly back towards his 'pork' and 'chows down'.

> Turning back to his dinner companions. "Perhaps you could educate a stranger
> further as I am a...'berk' was it?  What other beings inhabit this place and
> what are they like?"

"Mmmphhmmphhhh....."

Masque finishes chewing.

"Yes, Do those sort of creatures roam about all over or are they just a
modicum of what we can expect to find here?"

He eats some more.

"And speaking of finding things...We need to find out how to get back
home. That being not here nor anyplace near here. Don't get me wrong, I
think I could make myself a nice little niche in a place like this but I
don't believe there are Taco's here...or are there? And Milkshakes...By
the God's I love milkshakes...."

And Masque stops and reminisces(spelling?). Although It was probably
just yesterday that he had one but for a mage that is a long time.

He stops his longing for his days of yore and his eyes light up.

"Ronin? If you'll excuse me for a second, I think I might have an idea."

Masque steps outside for a moment and does his invisibility trick as he
walks towards the door. After all he has to be careful, what with the
crazies that just left.

Once he gets outside he attempts to open a doorway to His Earth.
(58 for the attempt(green) hoping to get a 'feel' as to if it is the
right place)

<The call is coming form inside your pants!>

Subject: Re: [v13] Twisted Happenings
Date:    Tue, 07 Dec 1999 18:55:56 -0600
From:    "William H. Lockwood" <albedo1@home.com>

Jinx continues her review of the .50 caliber weapon as they make their
way through the city. She nods and makes affirmative sounds now and
then, but seems intent on familiarizing herself with the weapon as best
she can without actually firing any shots.

By the time Clutch and she arrive at the hotel, she's finished her
inspection and appears to be quite happy with the piece of equipment.

"Right, I think I should be able to handle that when we need to use it,"
she explains to Clutch as they enter the lobby. She takes in the scene
casually, being quite used to ostentatious settings during her more
classy jobs.

"Good, a room would be nice. We need to set up a base of operations
that's stable. Not much room in that jeep for maps," she continues once
they enter the elevator.

Upon finding their room, Jinx snags a beer and begins a cursory
examination of the room.

"Well, I'm not exactly sure what to look for, but do you have anything
that can help us make sure we're unobserved?" she inquired as she
settled onto the bed trying to relax as best she could.

[65 to familiarize herself with the .50 caliber guns and 92 on her
investigation of the room.]

Subject: Re: [v13] Twisted Happenings
Date:    Wed, 08 Dec 1999 04:03:49 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

Clutch looks at you and smiles.  "Who, me?  I'm not in for that whole
cloak 'n dagger kinda thing."  He then rolls out a small tool kit he
removed from his rucksack, and produces a bevy of electronic devices. 
"Flash's Spy Kit (TM) - don't leave home with out it, honey-bunny."

He waves a hand-held dingus around the room, and points at the desk, the
remote control, and the bottom right bed post.  "Bugs."  Using a
screwdriver, he pries open the offending items and extracts three small
electronic devices.

And gives 'em to you.

Then, he pulls out another item from the roll o' tools, and puts it on
the telephone.  Cracking that open, he extracts a bundle of wires from
the phone, and passes a ultraviolet flashlight over the exposed wires
and such for about fifteen seconds.

"N.S.A. constructs - they like to bug the more expensive hotels for
tasty tidbits."  He then goes over every inch of the room with a large
variety of scanners and doo-dads, and once he's done, Clutch has gotten
rid of about twenty six different eavesdropping devices.

"Well, I never heard of the Transistor Movement, or the Eternal Church
of Satan, or even this one - who the Hell are these jokers who're
calling themselves the Ksir Imperium?!  Boy, you'd think these spies
would be tripping all over each other.  Feh."

Clutch gives you the pocket electron microscope and shows you the tiny
little telltales which identify the names behind each bug, and then
offers you his boot.  When you look at him weird, he just shrugs. 
"S'how we kill bugs in Asbury Park, Jinx."

Once you've dealt with the offending devices, Clutch then whips out his
intelligence maps of Los Angeles, and you can't help but note several
areas marked as primary air strike locations in the event of civil
unrest.  "Hey, don't look at me - these are N.S.A. maps."

Clutch then pulls out the dossier that Hawk gave him about Calypso and
his bizarre mechanical contest.  "Says here that the man has been doing
this sort of thing for years, but had a small interruption in the
proceedings a few years back."

"Now, the man's started up again.  He's been causing small little flaps
every Christmas Even since '96, and now it's his fourth inna row - and
biggest - contest yet.  Instead of holding his mayhem in a few rowdy,
previously wrecked neighborhoods, he's opening his contest up wide."

"As far as we can tell, the entire city's gonna be Calypso's playground
tomorrow night, and it's my job to contain the damage as much as
possible - and yours too, now.  We'll be starting here."  Clutch shows
you the picture of the ruined parking garage.

Cross-referencing the photo with the maps, he points to a specific
spot.  "We'll be here at sundown tomorrow, and as soon as this maniac
Calypso starts his little war, we start takin' folks out.  If we can
avoid killin' em, we will, but if we do, whoops."

"These psychos don't care about the people they're endangering, so I'm
not gonna cry if they get themselves waxed by my V.A.M.P.  And once the
mess starts, I'm playin' driver, and you shoot.  Oh, and by the way,
here."  Clutch throws you a clip.

It's one of your own.

"Flash 'borrowed' that awhile back, so's he could analyze just what you
were usin' in them pea-shooters you like to wreck folks with.  Oh, sure,
he had the round you left in me, but unfired rounds never hurt anybody's
research purposes."

"And before you get mad at ol' Flash, just think how unarmed you'd be
right now if Flash hadn't swiped it, and you'd used it on some poor
zhlub last night or somethin', eh?  Eh?"  Waiting for you to respond,
Clutch then lays down on the bed.

"Well, I'm gettin some rest.  You c'n watch T.V. and drink beer all you
want."  Clutch nabs two beers and chugs one down instantly.  "I gotta be
in top form for tomorrow, 'cause make no mistake, we're goin' to WAR. 
G'nite, sweet cheeks!"

With that, the grease monkey passes out cold, almost as if someone'd
flipped a switch on him somewhere.  What do you do, Jinx (other than
respond to the bevy of tactical stuff Clutch threw your way elsewhen in
this post)?

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Tue, 07 Dec 1999 13:17:03 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

"Sounds like somethin' we can work wit!"  Replies Stone Cold examining his 
new hardware.  'This is too sweet!'

Subject: [v13] A.S.9 goes to court
Date:    Tue, 07 Dec 1999 07:41:06 CST
From:    "Randy Alexander" <as_nine@hotmail.com>

Within moments, it seems to be lost in the suburban jungle around you.
However, you do know where the occupants of said vehicle are headed, so 
that's no great loss.  Knowledge of the future can come in real handy when 
used properly. A.S.9 finds himself snickering and shrugs it off as a glitch 
in his own programming. He turns on his internal tracking program and starts 
running towards the courthouse. He retracts his razors until later. Once he 
arrives at the courthouse he going to seek out his target. He will take down 
anyone who trys to stop him. As he starts to walk in, he pops out his razors 
from his fingertips.

OCC: 69,88,15,60  I forgot whether you rolled or I did. Also I lost my final 
copy of my guys stats can you send a copy back to me. Thanks.

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Tue, 7 Dec 1999 08:54:48 -0500
From:    Douglas Lohse <LohseD@mscdirect.com>

Rebound spends much of the trip getting used to this hand-held railgun,
comparing it to rifles and such that he has been trained to use.  He takes
special care to get used to the sightings on the thing.

"I don't have much experience with these things.  Is there any recoil, and
how do I know how much ammo I have?"

Rebound checks his weapon after being answered (hopefully)

"OK, I agree that we should do our best to track down any leads that can get
us back home before all hell breaks loose.  Did I get the right impression
that you want to come back with the two of us?"

Rebound considers the possibilities of actually making it home and bringing
others back with him.  He ponders the response of the temporal cop he met
before.  "She'll kill me."

Quickly realizing he said it out loud, Rebound will get up and move around
the ship hoping nobody asks him about it.

Subject: Re: [v13] A Beginning... (Magus)
Date:    Tue, 7 Dec 1999 12:18:38 -0500
From:    "Nathan Gecko" <nathangecko@yahoo.com>

A slight growling rises in the back of my throat as I mutter, "Stupid
bureaucracies.....feh. Here take your money and guide me out of this place
before I decide how disorderly I truly can be." With that said my hand
reaches over my shoulders into the leather backpack and produces a pouch.
Carefully counting out the gold I begin handing over the required eighty
five gold to this Modron. "There. Now can we be off?"

Nathan Gecko

<Modron....more like moron...>

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Wed, 08 Dec 1999 02:49:45 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

"Well, as I said, my young friend, you are currently in a realm known as
the Outlands, a plane of existence that lies at the very heart of the
Great Ring.  The Ring itself is a ring of sixteen dimensions, each of
which represent a unique mix of moral and ethical forces."

"Of course, the seventeenth plane of the Wheel, these Outlands, are at
the center of them, and thus represent true balance, the mix of all
forces and philosophies.  As such, folks from the other sixteen planes
tend to show up here from time to time."

"And even beings like you two human-types, who hail from beyond the
planes that comprise the Great Ring, will show up now and then.  As it
borders on all other planes of the Ring, then, you can guess just what
shows up here on occasion."

"Quite simply, everything and everyone, from virtually everywhere.  Most
of these travelers hail from planes good and evil, orderly and chaotic,
and have similar mindsets.  Luckily for us, however, most of them head
to Sigil, the City of Doors, at the heart of the Land."

The man points out the door which Masque has just opened, and indicates
the Spire.  "That torus on top of the Spire is Sigil, a city whose doors
open up to every last corner of the multiverse, whether such doors
should be opened or not."

"As far as the folks who actually live here in the Land, well, you're
looking at a good blend of 'em right here, my good man.  Dwarves, human,
and them bariaur there," he points to the ram-like centaur-ish folks
eating salad, and continues.  "are a good majority of us."

"Of course, there's others, from almost everywhere, so it's hard to pin
down a specific laundry list o' folks who call kip here, my now not-so
clueless friend.  Here, have another round o' bub, on me!"  He nabs a
bar wench and seizes another mug of ale for the three of you.

Meanwhile, outside the Bludgeon Inn, you see those three yugoloths (as
your human 'guide' has labeled them) wandering off into the distance,
walking towards the glow of several dozen camp-fires in the distance. 
Feeling relatively safe, you attempt to work your magic.

You attempt to forge yourself a portal across the planes, but something
prevents the proper operation of your spell.  In fact, as you forge the
doorway through the dimensional corridors, you figure out what it is -
you're still charged with the Stellar Key's bizarre energies.

When the portal opens, sparks of the former Key's alien, temporal
energies issue forth from your fingertips, bending the portal from its
intended destination towards some other, apparently hellish realm.  On
the other side, you hear voices - demonic voices!

"Well, well, well... what EVER do we have here?  Smells like...
visitors...!"  What do you do, Masque?!

Subject: Re: [v13] A Beginning... (Magus)
Date:    Wed, 08 Dec 1999 04:18:56 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

The modron looks at you and shrugs, especially complicated a maneuver
for a creature with no arms and five faces.  "Do not worry, alien
creature, I will not cause you to tarry here further, for you wish to be
away from here as much as I wish you to be... no offense."

"No chaos will be necessary."

After receiving the gold from your bags, the modron takes several
minutes to write you out a receipt for your payment.  "Yes, now we may
go.  The nearest portal out of Mechanus likes approximately one mile
away, which leads to the gate-town of Automata, on the Outlands."

"An extra quarter mile from there, another portal will lead you from
here to Sigil, the so-called City of Doors, from where you can
theoretically get almost anywhere in the multiverse - should you so
desire.  Which shall it be?"

While you mull this over, the modron begins to walk away, leading you on
towards the portals out of this strange, clockwork universe.  As you
proceed away from your waking point, you are amazed by the bizarre
sights that assail you.

A gaggle of small, clockwork creatures only three feet tall are
scrubbing the gear you currently walk on, similar to your modron friend
in that they are made of clockwork and flesh, these spherical in shape
and each having but two arms and legs - a few possessing foil wings.

Later, a trio of disc-like, two dimensional creatures buzz past you, and
then circle for a bit as though studying you.  They are covered in
mathematical formulae, and seem to be debating the nature of some mathy
secret - apparently the true value of the number pi.

Before you can respond to their inquiry, they buzz off to your left, one
splitting into two distinct creatures before continuing on their way. 
When it sees your look, the modron answers your unanswered question. 
"Moignos.  Creatures of math."

I suppose the ultimate question, then, is which portal you desire to
utilize, Magus.  Both of 'em will lead you to your fate, but... which
fate will you choose...?

Subject: Re: [v13] A.S.9 goes to court
Date:    Wed, 08 Dec 1999 04:31:40 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

You walk into the court house to find that your mere presence, dressed
and looking as you are, has caused something of a panic.  "Eeek!" is the
general response you get from the lowly, clerk-type folks in the federal
court-house you've just walked into all armed and such.

You look around for a bit, and find that you don't see your quarry in
any readily apparent position.  As such, you're forced to pop into
various court rooms in order to seek out the military man you have this
bizarre urge to kill.

Kicking in the fourth door, you finally find the fellow, apparently
giving testimony to justify his recent actions in the city.  "No, no
no.  You've got it all wrong.  You see, two groups of terrorists were
fighting it out in the building, and we were sent in to stop 'em."

"As far as these ridiculous allegations of combat robots and strange
mutants are concerned, I again state that they are pure, unadulterated
poppycock.  The only advanced technology we found was some sort of
device built by the Ariel-Shijitzu corporation, and -"

Hawk stops cold, suddenly seeing you at the doorway, which causes every
body in the room to look back in shock.  Of course, you find yourself
suddenly stuck with the echo of a memory in your mind.  Shijitzu,
Shijitzu, Shijitzu.  The name is familiar.  On the tip of your tongue.

What do you do?

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Wed, 08 Dec 1999 04:44:38 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

"Aye, laddie.  The gun carries ten rounds, and has a lot of bite to it -
and quite the recoil, till yer get used to the bloody thing.  Arrh, t'is
no big thing, though, 'cause it'll do worlds more damage to whatever you
shoot wif it."

"As far as goin' home with yer, that's not in the cards for me,
nosiree.  I'm stayin' here, to help put my world back together, or at
least give Cobra one last sting against these scummy bastards.  Me'n
Percy're gonna give these lazy tyrants what for."

"If'n I've got to head off planet in order to do so, though, so be it!"
Alabaster looks kind of sheepish after saying that, but then gives you a
queer look in return, Rebound, after hearing your odd comments. 
"Problems, laddie?"

?

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Wed, 8 Dec 1999 08:57:32 -0500
From:    Douglas Lohse <LohseD@mscdirect.com>

"If'n I've got to head off planet in order to do so, though, so be it!"
Alabaster looks kind of sheepish after saying that, but then gives you a
queer look in return, Rebound, after hearing your odd comments. 
"Problems, laddie?"

For the first time in ages, Rebound is glad he is wearing a mask and no one
can see his embarrassment.

"Um, nothing.  Just something I'll have to deal with IF we can find a way to
get back home."

"Hey Percy, do you have a satellite link anywhere in this thing?  Maybe we
can call in some 'Star Wars' support.  If it didn't all get waxed by now.
The codes shouldn't be too hard to figure out, especially since I know their
basic algorithms..."

Subject: Re: [v13] A.S.9 goes crazy.
Date:    Wed, 08 Dec 1999 08:54:55 CST
From:    "Randy Alexander" <as_nine@hotmail.com>

A.S.9 can't seem to get the name out of his mind.  Then he flashes back to his creation inside a lab, and the threatening of his  maker, that this one better work. " What am I?" A.S.9 stopped as he looked down again as in shock seeing his fingertips that had razors sticking out, and then noticed everyone was looking at him in shock.

Walking towards Hawk quickly, he jumped the gate and walked up to the witness box and picked up Hawk, and said " WHO IS SHIJITZU...NOW?" OCC: IF fighting needed to grab him.  Heres a couple of rolls 88, 45

Subject: Re: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Wed, 08 Dec 1999 15:04:29 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

"Nope, I'm just ready to lay the smackdown so we can bounce up outta here."  
Says Stone Cold.

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Wed, 08 Dec 1999 15:24:48 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

"Can any of those algorithms, tell us how to get the snap up out of here, 
Rebound.  Or what?  Fighting whole nations is not exactly my idea of a night 
out on the town."  Said Stone Cold.

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Wed, 8 Dec 1999 10:45:54 -0500
From:    Douglas Lohse <LohseD@mscdirect.com>

"Well, no, but it might just give us an edge in the fight.  Nothing like the
hand of god reaching down from orbit and vaporizing your enemies with a
hypervelocity missile..."

Subject: RE: [v13] These Black Sands...
Date:    Wed, 08 Dec 1999 15:53:48 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

"Hey works for me lets do it."  Holding the new fangled weapon in his normal 
form which looks a tad too heavy for him.  "Don't worry I can handle this."

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Wed, 08 Dec 1999 13:25:12 EST
From:    "Peter Chamers" <lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com>

>"Tootooloo!"

Ronin facepalms.

>The young samurai notices the visual exchange and frowns deeply. Definitely 
>not a good omen, that.

>"I don't think 'she' liked me very much and Mister Sassy-pants, I don't 
>appreciate being handled like that unless I paid for it and quite frankly 
>my friend, I'm not giving you a dollar!"

>He turns smugly back towards his 'pork' and 'chows down'.

I'll remember than when such creatures are about to feast as hungrily upon 
you as you do upon that roasted meat.

>He eats some more.

>"And speaking of finding things...We need to find out how to get back
>home. That being not here nor anyplace near here. Don't get me wrong, I 
>think I could make myself a nice little niche in a place like this but I 
>don't believe there are Taco's here...or are there? And Milkshakes...By the 
>God's I love milkshakes...."

>And Masque stops and reminisces(spelling?). ALhtough It was probably
>just yesterday that he had one but for a mage that is a long time.

>He stops his longing for his days of yore and his eyes light up.

>"Ronin? If you'll excuse me for a second, I think I might have an idea."

Ronin gets a REALLY worried look on his face.

Subject: Re: [v13] Lost In Space...?
Date:    Wed, 8 Dec 1999 11:30:11 -0800
From:    "Michael Joiner Jr" <ultimental@onebox.com>

> The image most resembling what we do, in your mind, would be a space truck 
> top, i suppose." 

Reaper raises an eyebrow at this...

> The Mhungus stops, looking embarrased all of a sudden.  "Sorry, bad
> habit of mine.  Didn't mean to flash through your brain like that."

> Taking a moment to recover, he rallies mightily.  "At any rate, let me
> show you around, in the event that you'll be here a little while."

Reaper shrugs, and allows himself to be led.  He glances after Ken...
 
> Gray Stump on the Lake, Most Brightest 750 Terahertz, Transmission, and
> Nut then turn back the way they came, though Transmission picks up poor,
> unconscious Ken before doing so.  "I handle him, yes?"  Apparently
> Transmission has picked up on your language a bit.

Reaper scrutinizes Transmission's way of holding Ken before nodding, "Sure... just be careful, eh?"

> "Can carry my mass on any galactic body at up to 100 gravity units.  No
> problem for Transmission."  The robot's facial features curl up in
> something akin to a smile, but he looks like he hasn't quite got the
> hang of it yet.  And it sounds almost Russian for some reason.

Reaper smiles in return, one of those bemused smiles one gives to something
That's just a little too...bizarre...

> Assuming you follow (and don't blast Transmission for carrying Ken off),
> the four aliens lead you around several bends, twists, and turns, and
> into something that most closely resembles a garage.  There are dozens
> of small space craft parked in the area.

> Dozens more alien beings are tending to them, some being robotic in
> nature (like these two Mechani here), and some being totally different
> than anything you've ever seen before - in your wildest imaginations.

> "This is the hangar.  Ships that don't fit in here dock up outside."

Reapers eyes widen, "Whoa..." he murmers...

> Gray Stump On The Lake waves a tentacle at a large window to your left,
> where you see one extended docking clamp hooked up to a ship about twice
> the size of an aircraft carrier.  "That's our only big customer right
> now, of course, but then, being out here, we take what we can get."

Reaper tries to seize upon that statement to ask a question, but only
gets so far as to open his mouth before the alien continues...

> "Upstairs are the main hotel suites, restaurants, and what have you, and
> the control decks are above those.  Below us lie the primary station
> system components, like power plant, life support, etc., etc., etc...

> Anything else you would like to know?"

Reaper closes his mouth, evidently deciding to wait on that question.
"Uh...yeah.  Before we...well 'arrived' here, we'd been spending alot
of time fighting some evil or another in some pretty messed up places."

Reaper looks down at his clothes, then looks around, "I think Ken and
I could use some rest and a place to maybe get cleaned up.  Y'know, before
we get into finding out exactly where we are and stuff..."

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Wed, 08 Dec 1999 16:30:51 -0600
From:    "Christopher W. Acers" <cwacers@home.com>

"Eep!"

Masque quickly shuts the closes the door and walks back in and sits
down. Then goes visible again.

"Didn't work, No sir, not at all."

Subject: Re: [v13] Twisted Happenings
Date:    Wed, 08 Dec 1999 18:52:09 -0600
From:    "William H. Lockwood" <albedo1@home.com>

Jinx just blinks some more when she sees Clutch go to work with Flash's 
Spy Kit (TM), "Wow! I need to get myself one of those!"

At Clutches offer of a boot, Jinx declines, pointing to her own booted
feet, "No thanks! I've got my own!"

Once Clutch hands over all of the devices, Jinx proceeds to jump up and
down on the bugs until they are properly demolished and then scoops them
up and flushes the bits down the toilet.

She grumbles a bit when Clutch tells her where he got her clip from, but
greedily snatches up the sleek casing of potential flying doom.
"Muhehehehehehehehehehehe! Mine!" she cackles maniacally as she checks
out the clip for tampering before reloading one of her hand-cannons.

Once that display of psychosis is finished, Jinx composes herself before
moving to examine the maps.

Jinx continues to nurse her beer while she reviews the maps, doing her
best to memorize the city's layout. She had been in LA a few times, but
had never really had to know much about the geography of the city. She
figured this was a situation where it would help to know a thing or
three about her environment. Not as much as Clutch would need to know,
but she didn't want to be completely lost!

Jinx just nods at Clutch as he passes out. The ability to pass out on
command was something any battle-hardened individual picked up; sleep
was a precious commodity during wartime.

"Hmmm...that's probably not a bad idea, sleep," she thought out loud
before lying out on the remainder of the bed.

~At last! Tomorrow I get a chance to kick ass and take names!~ she
thought to herself before catching some shuteye.

[95 on the Memory roll to get a good idea on the layout of LA.]

Subject: [v13] Welcome to Antarctic City!
Date:    Thu, 09 Dec 1999 04:21:51 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

Alabaster just looks at you and laughs, Rebound.  "Har!  Yer talkin'
about them good ol' gov'ment particle beam thingies, right?  No, they
gots knocked out of orbit hunnerds of years ago... else me'n Percy'd be
usin' them to swat flies to this day."

"Heh... high burner shot.  Woo!"

Alabaster's quite quiet for the next fifty minutes or so, until several
lights and speakers start bleeping into action.  Looking at the things,
he frowns.  "Okay, boys, here's the first hurdle."  Pausing while a
voice comes over the intercom, Alabaster listens in closely.

The voice is a distinctly alien language, but it sounds vaguely familiar
to you, Stone Cold.  Technically, though, you haven't heard that
language in over twenty one thousand years - quite a while, really. 
That's when you know it's the Varakni tongue.

Alabaster then answers in its guttural syllables for about a minute, and
after letting go of the mike, he laughs out long and hard.  "This
oughter be good for a laugh.  I tole 'em that we've got some humans who
want to join the Imperium!  Har har!"

When he sees the look on your faces, Alabaster stops to explain.  "On a
cargo shipment, they usually have the cops come up to inspect the ship.
These 'homecomings', as the bastards call 'em, usually have salesmen and
ambassadors-of-peace types attending."

"I got a whole lotta peace comin' for these jokers."  Alabaster chuckles
some more, and then attends to the flying.  He does so for five more
minutes, and you see the mountainous crags of Antarctica unfolding in
the window before you.

Magnificent spires of rock, great lakes of icy blue water, and at the
center of 'em all, at what you'd judge to be the south pole, you see the
Varakni capitol here on earth.  The city looks like one big set of
nested circles, with a giant steel spire in the center.

It simply has to be the Coalescence.

Alabaster then lands the craft on a helipad bay on the city's outskirts,
and readies his H.I.S.S. tank.  Okay, lads, I'll be ridin' solo in this
beastie, for reasons ye'll find out soon enough, so you just sit on top
or walk besides me and shoot everybody."

"Less'n they don't try'n stop us, of course."

Alabaster grins the grin of the mad, and when the craft has stopped, you
indeed see folks in suits on the landing bay, one even holding a fruit
basket.  They don't seem to have the slightest clue what's about to
happen to 'em.  Makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Then Alabaster opens the door, and wheels out with his tank in a way
that implies that his tank can go from zero to sixty in about six
seconds.  As the suits reflexively dive for cover, he yells over his
external loudspeaker a deafening battle cry.  He says...

"Cobraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

And then starts shooting at everything in his path.  What do you do?

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Thu, 09 Dec 1999 04:25:44 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

The man eating at your table shrugs.  "Well, I do feel for your
situation, my younger friends.  I tell you what.  I'll let you stay here
for the night - for free, even - while the two of you figure out just
what you'll be wanting to do with yourselves from here."

"Until tomorrow, then, eat up!  And drink!"

?

Subject: Re: [v13] A.S.9 goes crazy.
Date:    Thu, 09 Dec 1999 04:29:42 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

The room erupts in abject panic as you lift the man bodily out of the
witness seat, though Hawk's two allies don't move.  In fact, they
suddenly seem to have you covered.  Hawk just looks at you, unfazed.  "I
assume you have some sort of the grudge with the man."

"Well, get in line, mister.  But, as far as who he is, the man you're
referring to is Roy Shijitzu, who's the head of Ariel-Shijitzu in this
country.  They make robots.  You know, the jerks in Pleasantview, New
Jersey?  Now, is that all, or do maybe want to rough me up some more?"

?

Subject: Re: [v13] Lost In Space...?
Date:    Thu, 09 Dec 1999 04:43:17 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

Gray Stump On The Lake looks at you and smiles.  "Ah, but of course. 
Transmission can take you and your good friend there to a room while you
and your unconscious friend recuperate from your ordeal.  We will be in
the control room until you are ready to talk again."

Transmission then tries to smile again, but doesn't quite pull the
maneuver off.  "Yes, come this way."  Transmission takes you up two
flights on some kind of open-air lift thing, allowing you a panoramic
view of the sights around you.

Shops, restaurants, equipment outfitters, and more.  Beings expert in
negotiable affection, assassins for hire, guides to the unknown - in
this universe and beyond.  Above them, of course, lie the hotel suites.
"You will do good in here, yes?"

"The room has a clothing mender, which you two seem to need, yes?  And
the biological analyzer will determine your nutritional needs and
provide you a list of those vendors here who offer what you want - as
far as food goes.  Be seeing you, yes?"

Assuming you have no other questions, Transmission leaves your room.  As
soon as he does so, Ken wakes up, looking like death warmed over, and
you get the distinct impression that he would throw up if he had
anything to throw.

"Ugh... where are we?"

Before you can even answer, however, you feel a sort of tingling in the
air, and as you try to analyze its source with your Awareness, something
pops into existence in this room from sheer nothingness.  It's a
motorcycle - and it looks real familiar.

(ooc:  anybody who dug Ken or his series, the Star Brand, should feel
free to check out his remarkably small cameo appearance in the last
issue of the Avengers Forever series.  Oh, sure, he didn't even talk,
but he was THERE, damnit!  =)

Subject: Re: [v13] Twisted Happenings
Date:    Thu, 09 Dec 1999 04:54:56 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

In response to your comment about the Spy Kit (TM), Clutch gives you
that wry grin.  "Tell you what, Jinx.  Assuming we get out of this
debacle in one piece, you can have it.  After all, you need it much more
than I, and besides, it'll help you earn your keep."

"And we can always write it off as 'lost in battle'."  Once the two of
you dispose of your would-be eavesdroppers, you both sit down for a fine
round of map-reading, as the more prepared you are, the better your
chances of survival.

Things wind down, of course, and you manage to pass out easily after
your erstwhile partner.

                                    ***

When you wake up in the morning, Jinx, you find that you're in something
of a compromising position.  You're nice'n comfy, but apparently so is
Clutch, as he seems to have instinctively laid down in what you might
refer to as the 'spoon' position.

And he's sleeping the sleep of the just.  

Looks like it's gonna be one of those days...

?

Subject: RE: [v13] Welcome to Antarctic City!
Date:    Thu, 9 Dec 1999 08:40:37 -0500
From:    Douglas Lohse <LohseD@mscdirect.com>

Rebound considers the scene for a moment thinking only this ought to be
interesting before charging out of the ship shooting in the direction of
everything that moves and isn't known to be friendly.  He is trying not to
mow down the citizenry, but rather make sure they keep their heads down long
enough for the group to get to their destination.

Rolls: Init 7, Hit 94,  Dam 83,  anything else: 5, 18, 34, 36 (hope I don't
need those *yuck*)

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to Antarctic City!
Date:    Thu, 09 Dec 1999 13:56:24 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

"Oh now this is rich something I never thought that I would be doing."  
Armoring up and commences to ice blasting anything in his way.  "Rebound?  
Could you at least check if there are anyother Sats' up there.  Ours wasn't 
the only one for the Star Wars project.  Maybe there was one left."

Subject: [v13] A.S.9 on memory lane
Date:    Thu, 09 Dec 1999 15:49:05 CST
From:    "Randy Alexander" <as_nine@hotmail.com>

"Robots...Robots..." A.S.9 said as he stood there still holding the man in 
the air. " But he was... over me in a lab... Does that mean... No...?" A.S.9 
said as he dropped the man back into the chair. " I am a robot?" A.S.9 then 
looked at his razor blades  in his hands, and then looked at the man again in 
the chair, cut up by his razors, but not harmed. And with that he started to 
walk out, shaking his head in confusion. Thinking to himself, and searching 
his databanks for info on himself. He then found he isn't just a robot, but 
an android, a living and breathing robot. Then A.S.9 turned around with 
razors retracted, and said to Hawk, " Sorry... Where did you say I can get a 
hold of this man and get some answers?"

Subject: Re: [v13] Twisted Happenings
Date:    Thu, 09 Dec 1999 17:45:19 -0600
From:    "William H. Lockwood" <albedo1@home.com>

Jinx grins at the thought of having some equipment to ensure her
privacy, and files away some of the things Clutch did during the
operation to the back of her mind for future reference.

                                     ***

When Jinx wakes up in the morning, she reflexively snuggles up against
the extra warmth next to her before her mind registers what she's doing.

"ACK!" she exclaims as she struggles out of the bed, pushing Clutch away
from her (and possibly completely off of the bed).

Quickly regaining her composure, she mentions something about getting
cleaned up and hurriedly makes her way to the bathroom. Once there, she
starts the shower and lets the water run while she stares at herself in
the mirror.

~What did you just do, Natasha? You're crazy to let him get so close to
you! You just flirted with him last time and he ended up almost losing
his leg! You can't let him near you or he'll end up just like...~ she
trailed off in mid-thought as she realized the shower was beginning to
steam up the mirror.

She stripped and jumped in the shower, washing off the minimal amount of
sewer grime that worked its way past her probability field. Once she
finished, she got out of the shower and toweled off, cursing audibly
when she realized she didn't have any extra clothes. Continuing her
tirade, she filled the sink with hot water and set her underwear, sports
bra and socks to soak while she pulled on her jumpsuit.

Grumbling, she emerged from the bathroom, long blond hair enwrapped by a
towel, her bare feet padding on the carpet.

"Right. We need to go shopping," she stated as she winced at the rather
feminine words that had just found their way out of her mouth.

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Thu, 09 Dec 1999 19:49:56 -0600
From:    "Christopher W. Acers" <cwacers@home.com>

> "Until tomorrow, then, eat up!  And drink!"

Masque looks at the man.

"Thank you very much, We owe you one..."

Thinking about the wealth of information the man gave us, he adds;

"Or lots."

He turns to Ronin;

"On my way out I overheard this man telling you of that place on the
spire. Something about Doors to otherwhere's or somesuch. Methinks that
is the place we need to go? Yes? After all , some place that looks like
a giant doughnut can't be all bad... Mmmmmm Doughnuts..."

<This is the place for response>

Masque asks the man where his room is and then retires for the evening
provided nothing else happens.

Subject: Re: [v13] Lost In Space...?
Date:    Fri, 10 Dec 1999 01:12:45 -0800
From:    "Michael Joiner Jr" <ultimental@onebox.com>

> We will be in the control room until you are ready to talk again."

Reaper nods...

> Transmission then tries to smile again, but doesn't quite pull the
> maneuver off.  "Yes, come this way."  Transmission takes you up two
> flights on some kind of open-air lift thing, allowing you a panoramic
> view of the sights around you.

> Shops, restaurants, equipment outfitters, and more.  Beings expert in
> negotiable affection, assassins for hire, guides to the unknown - in
> this universe and beyond.  Above them, of course, lie the hotel 
> suites.  "You will do good in here, yes?"

> "The room has a clothing mender, which you two seem to need, yes?  And
> the biological analyzer will determine your nutritional needs and
> provide you a list of those vendors here who offer what you want - as
> far as food goes.  Be seeing you, yes?"

"Uh...yeah..." Reaper says, distracted, as he checks out the technology
in the room.

> Assuming you have no other questions, Transmission leaves your room.  As
> soon as he does so, Ken wakes up, looking like death warmed over, and
> you get the distinct impression that he would throw up if he had
> anything to throw.

> "Ugh... where are we?"

"Well-" Reaper begins before he feels the tingling of his awareness...

> Before you can even answer, however, you feel a sort of tingling in the
> air, and as you try to analyze its source with your Awareness, something
> pops into existence in this room from sheer nothingness.  It's a motorcycle - 
> and it looks real familiar.

"..." Reaper blinks in surprise, then smiles a slow genuine smile...
"All I know is we are *no where* near earth...however *that* happened..."

Reaper walks over to the motorcycle, laying a hand on the seat caressingly,
"But things just got ALOT better..."

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to Antarctic City!
Date:    Fri, 10 Dec 1999 13:32:06 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

Bchoom!  Bchoom!

Your guns are loud - and they make such a cool 'bchoom' noise.  As you
fire 'em in to the crowd, Rebound (well, over 'em, at any rate), people
either scatter in all directions or drop to the ground, weeping.  And
then, you ice 'em in place, Stone Cold, so they don't go anywhere.

"Hahahhahahhahah!"  That, of course, would be Alabaster, laughing like
mad as he fires random shots at the city before you.  Looking on, you
can see the things are exceptionally rough, as the shells pass through
one building after another, like some terrible, material laser.

Or a supersonic, adamantium missile.

Percy looks at you, Stone Cold (again, something of a misnomer) and you
get the impression that the computer is mentally nodding.  "I'll see
what I can find, Stone Cold.  Of course, much of my activity will be
devoted to tactical analysis, but I'll try to find a satellite."

"But I'm sure the only remaining orbital platforms are those carrying
global positioning signals, and some relic transmitter labeled
'DirecTV'..."  Just then, the tank revs forward, bowling straight
through the hangar where the Varakni were to hold a reception for you.

Whoops.

Within about ten seconds, the thing collapses in a heap upon the tank,
but Alabaster just rolls on through.  "C'mon, laddies!  We've got us a
city to wreck!  Hah!"  Alabaster then drives Percy and the H.I.S.S. tank
down one of those main spoke-streets that leads to the capitol.

On the way, he rolls over various vehicles, though he does go slow
enough to give the occupants time to get the heck out.  Meanwhile, you
see folks all over the place picking up little communicator devices, and
sense that the cops'll show up any minute.

However, they don't until you actually arrive at the intersection of
that last ring-street, the one that directly surrounds the Coalescence
building itself.  There, you find about a dozen cops decked out in
futuristic riot gear, each holding a stun baton and a gun.

And they do not look amused.  "Throw down your weapons and surrender,
terrorists!  You're relics from the past, so surrender now before we
have to destroy you!"  One particularly mean-spirit cop chimes in "A
lot!" and spits on the ground before you.

?

Subject: Re: [v13] A.S.9 on memory lane
Date:    Fri, 10 Dec 1999 13:37:06 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

Hawk puts his hands on the cuts you gave him, and looks at the blood. 
He seems on the verge of getting surly with you, but then looks like
he's had some kind of inspiration.  "Er, no problem.  You can find that 
Shijitzu fellow in New Jersey - Pleasantview."

"He runs his robotics company from there.  And, I guess, that may very
well be where you came from - judging from those tattoos you've got
there."  This Hawk fellow seems to have a good idea just what you are,
actually, as though he's encountered other A.S. androids.

Or read N.S.A. documents about 'em.

?

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to Antarctic City!
Date:    Fri, 10 Dec 1999 19:48:54 GMT
From:    "Charlie Clay Jr." <cclayjr@hotmail.com>

"Then come with it then!"  As Stone Cold opens up with the gun in one hand 
and Ice blasts from the other.  (Rolls: 78, 84, 96, 30, 45, 50)

Subject: Re: [v13] Lost In Space...?
Date:    Fri, 10 Dec 1999 13:55:03 -0600
From:    Firebomb <firebomb@home.com>

"... well, maybe for you.  But I don't feel so good.  Something's wrong
with this Star Brand power in me.  I think that that Key blowing up
messed with it somehow.  It feels all kinds of screwy... you know, kind
of like you need to throw up or something - in every single cell."

"And it's getting worse.  Urgh..."

Ken lands on his backside as he sinks to the ground, and looks almost
dead.  He just leans up against the wall, and does indeed look about to
vomit, but you're not sure why.  "And what do you mean you don't know
where we are?  You're the cat with that freaky 'awareness of all'!"

"Sheesh..."

?

Subject: RE: [v13] Welcome to Antarctic City!
Date:    Fri, 10 Dec 1999 14:55:06 -0500
From:    Douglas Lohse <LohseD@mscdirect.com>

"Surrender?  What are you stoned?  (No offense Stoney)  There's nothing on
this planet that can even slow us down, let alone stop us."

That said,  Rebound slaps his rifle across his back counting on his
stickiness to hold it in place while he tosses a wide stream of strands
fanning out to land directly in front of the 'cops' feet.  He then detonates
the strands and watches as cops go flying.  (at least that's the plan)

Rolls:  Init: 9  Hit: 75+25karma(100)  Dam: 81+30karma(101-oops) Other
rolls: 49,78,24,97 (if needed)

Subject: [v13] Re: Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Fri, 10 Dec 1999 15:07:17 EST
From:    "Peter Chamers" <lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com>

>"And even beings like you two human-types, who hail from beyond the
>planes that comprise the Great Ring, will show up now and then.  As it 
>borders on all other planes of the Ring, then, you can guess just what 
>shows up here on occasion."

Ronin raises an eyebrow at this one. "So there have been other... 
travelers... from our world, here?  Have any come here in recent days?"

>The man points out the door which Masque has just opened, and indicates the 
>Spire.  "That torus on top of the Spire is Sigil, a city whose doors open 
>up to every last corner of the multiverse, whether such doors should be 
>opened or not."

"Is there a door there to our home, do you believe?"

>"As far as the folks who actually live here in the Land, well, you're
>looking at a good blend of 'em right here, my good man.  Dwarves, human, 
>and them bariaur there," he points to the ram-like centaur-ish folks eating 
>salad, and continues.  "are a good majority of us."

>"Of course, there's others, from almost everywhere, so it's hard to pin 
>down a specific laundry list o' folks who call kip here, my now not-so 
>clueless friend.  Here, have another round o' bub, on me!"  He nabs a bar 
>wench and seizes another mug of ale for the three of you.

Ronin takes the ail with a nod and a thanks.

"Is there anything else I should know before I head to this 'Sigil'?"

Subject: [v13] Re: Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Fri, 10 Dec 1999 15:09:13 EST
From:    "Peter Chamers" <lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com>

>The man eating at your table shrugs.  "Well, I do feel for your
>situation, my younger friends.  I tell you what.  I'll let you stay here 
>for the night - for free, even - while the two of you figure out just what 
>you'll be wanting to do with yourselves from here."

>"Until tomorrow, then, eat up!  And drink!"

Ronin nods. "That will be satisfactory" he replies.

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Fri, 10 Dec 1999 15:14:59 EST
From:    "Peter Chamers" <lil_blk_duck@hotmail.com>

>The man eating at your table shrugs.  "Well, I do feel for your
>situation, my younger friends.  I tell you what.  I'll let you stay here 
>for the night - for free, even - while the two of you figure out just what 
>you'll be wanting to do with yourselves from here."

>"Until tomorrow, then, eat up!  And drink!"

>Masque looks at the man.

>"Thank you very much, We owe you one..."

Ronin grabs Masque by the shoulder. "Never indebt yourself to anyone..." he 
whispers harshly.

>Thinking about the wealth of information the man gave us, he adds;

>"Or lots."

The swordsman frowns yet again.

>He turns to Ronin;

>"On my way out I overheard this man telling you of that place on the
>spire. Something about Doors to otherwhere's or some such. Methinks that is 
>the place we need to go? Yes? After all , some place that looks like a 
>giant doughnut can't be all bad... Mmmmmm Doughnuts..."

"Yes...that is where we will head... tomorrow, after we have rested."

Ronin looks out the door towards the spire.

"Is that not where you sensed the drain of magic emanating from?  Will that 
place be safe for you?"

OOC - Did you actually mention that affect to me? If not, forget that part 
of the post.

>Masque asks the man where his room is and then retires for the evening 
>provided nothing else happens.

Ronin watches as the mage retires for the night.

Turning back to his dinner companions.

"What sort of equipment will we require in order to make the journey to this 
'Spire' and where may we acquire it?  As well....what else can you tell me 
about this 'City of Doors'?"

Ronin lays his sword on the table, covering its scabbard with a protective 
hand.

Subject: Re: [v13] Lost In Space...?
Date:    Fri, 10 Dec 1999 22:04:26 -0800
From:    "Michael Joiner Jr" <ultimental@onebox.com>

> "Sheesh..."

"...'bout all I'm 'aware' of is we're no where *near* home..." Reaper says musingly...

Taking a deep breath, as if fighting his better judgement, Reaper lowers
the ionized sunglasses and looks at Ken...trying to see if Ken's Star Brand
is still as blindingly powerful as before.

He does this with an incredibly tense hand, as if ready to slam the glasses
back into place rather than suffer like before...

OOC

Rolls...
74, 97, 53

Subject: Re: [v13] Welcome to the Great Wheel
Date:    Sat, 11 Dec 1999 03:11:29 -0600
From:    "Christopher W. Acers" <cwacers@home.com>

> "Is that not where you sensed the drain of magic emanating from? Will that
> place be safe for you?"

"Actually  I do not know but The magic was actually going into the
spire. I think it is a very magical place in fact I think most things
that surround that deal are inherently magical. Besides, It'll be fun!"

Subject: [v13] A.S.9 on the fastlane
Date:    Sat, 11 Dec 1999 07:34:47 CST
From:    "Randy Alexander" <as_nine@hotmail.com>

A.S.9 looked at his tattoo on his arm, and smiled. " I guess so, mate. Do you think I could use your jeep to get there?" A.S.9 now smiling larger like a teenager asking for the keys to the car.

Subject: Re: [v13] A Beginning... (Magus)
Date:    Sat, 11 Dec 1999 14:57:04 -0500
From:    "Nathan Gecko" <nathangecko@yahoo.com>

> The modron looks at you and shrugs, especially complicated a maneuver
> for a creature with no arms and five faces.  "Do not worry, alien
> creature, I will not cause you to tarry here further, for you wish to be
> away from here as much as I wish you to be... no offense."

"None taken."

> "No chaos will be necessary."

"That will be a nice change of pace," Magus says with a slight sigh of
relief at the thought of not having to resort to violence.

> After receiving the gold from your bags, the modron takes several
> minutes to write you out a receipt for your payment.  "Yes, now we may
> go.  The nearest portal out of Mechanus likes approximately one mile
> away, which leads to the gate-town of Automata, on the Outlands."

Giving the receipt a once over I roll it up neatly and place it in my
backpack.

> "An extra quarter mile from there, another portal will lead you from
> here to Sigil, the so-called City of Doors, from where you can
> theoretically get almost anywhere in the multiverse - should you so
> desire.  Which shall it be?"

With the possibility of being able to return home available to me I almost
to eagerly say, "This city, Sigil, sounds like the place I need to be at."

> While you mull this over, the modron begins to walk away, leading you on
> towards the portals out of this strange, clockwork universe.  As you
> proceed away from your waking point, you are amazed by the bizarre
> sights that assail you.

Making a point to follow my guide through this odd realm of an unusual
amount of order I can not help but stare at the sights around me commiting
as much of it to memory as possible.

> (snipping the sights of Mechanus)

Muttering in slight amazement, "Fascinating..."

















