From: owner-acka-games@wilma.che.utexas.edu (Ackanomic Games Digest) To: acka-games-digest Subject: Ackanomic Games Digest V2 #114 Reply-To: acka-games@wilma.che.utexas.edu Sender: owner-acka-games@wilma.che.utexas.edu Errors-To: owner-acka-games@wilma.che.utexas.edu Precedence: bulk Ackanomic Games Digest Wednesday, July 9 1997 Volume 02 : Number 114 ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Tue, 8 Jul 1997 22:15:11 -0500 (CDT) From: Jason Orendorff Subject: Acka: YORL Play They burned him, branded him, and pierced his skin with needles. They hung him upside down. The State officer beat him with a pipe. But the one screaming, terrifying memory, the one thing he would do anything in the world to avoid, was kept in a tiny black bottle around the officer's neck. The one time that bottle had opened, there was a monstrous noise of carnassial teeth. The officer had allowed a single drop of the liquid inside to fall from the lip of the bottle onto Stutim's chest. He had never felt-- never imagined-- such pain, and he screamed long after his voice was gone. He blacked out from pain, awoke to pain, again and again. Days passed. In his agony, he could only wonder: Why, why were they doing this? What could they possibly want? The officer whispered in his ear. "Rise, you rust-headed dog." Stutim rose to one knee, but could not make it further. It was freezing here. He opened one eye and saw that he was outside, in a thin forest of pines. "Here is your task. You will proceed toward the setting sun until you reach the side entrance of a white marble temple. Go in, and insist upon being healed by the High Priest himself." Fear and hope swept over Stutim. Which temple? Was this policeman unaware of his dealings with Welecta? Were they really going to release him? "None of my men would ever get in to see him," the officer mumbled, pulling on a pair of thick, black gloves, "but your red hair, Solgrai scum, will be your ticket. That spy should be dying for a messenger by now, since I've killed the last four..." play: woods or trees - -- Mohammed Weird things happen around thousands of bakers from Nome. ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 9 Jul 1997 00:21:33 -0400 (EDT) From: John Frederic Mc Coy Subject: Re: Acka: YORL Play On Tue, 8 Jul 1997, Jason Orendorff wrote: > They burned him, branded him, and pierced his skin with needles. They > hung him upside down. The State officer beat him with a pipe. But > the one screaming, terrifying memory, the one thing he would do > anything in the world to avoid, was kept in a tiny black bottle around > the officer's neck. The one time that bottle had opened, there was a > monstrous noise of carnassial teeth. The officer had allowed a single > drop of the liquid inside to fall from the lip of the bottle onto > Stutim's chest. He had never felt-- never imagined-- such pain, and > he screamed long after his voice was gone. > play: woods or trees I am interrupting with the card fear. play: fear - Vynd jmccoy@umich.edu > > -- > Mohammed > Weird things happen around thousands of bakers from Nome. > ------------------------------ End of Ackanomic Games Digest V2 #114 *************************************