The TORC Conspiracy

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Postby Lindonbayne » Sun Jun 16, 2002 6:25 am

<i>Emily was suddenly aware of someone else in her cell. A girl of a similar age to herself was in the corner sobbing.<BR>She stood up, and walked over to the distressed girl.</i><BR><BR>Calm down, friend. We need to get out of here, and fast. There is someone coming, i can hear footsteps, and i fear they are not so friendly.<BR><BR><i>The girl stopped crying, and looked up.</i><BR><BR>I am known as Lindon in these parts. You are familiar to me, I belive we have met before. What might your name be?<BR><BR><i>As the girl replied, Emily scanned her surroundings. She smiled as she noticed a few stones in one of the walls had no mortar around them. She stepped up to them, and slid her fingers into the gap. She removed the stones with surprising ease.</i><BR><BR>Now, I could fit through, if i first romoved my quiver, <i>she thought aloud.</i> Hold on, I have a quiver?<BR><BR><i>She gazed down her body, and spotted for the first time, that she was dressed as Lindon, and also spoke as Lindon. She wore her brown leggings, with her green overskirt, and green strapless top. She also wore her short brown cloak, and sandals. Although her quiver was upon her back, it contained no arrows, or her sword, and her palm dagger had been removed from her cuff.</i><BR><BR>Cool! <i>she siad, squeezing through the hole.</i>
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Postby SilverScribe » Sun Jun 16, 2002 8:35 am

<BR><i> She sighed deeply and wiped the sweat from her eyes, this was a skill she never thought to ever have to use. She realized she had been holding her breath when finally, she heard the primitive lock mechanism snick open. She pushed the heavy door aside and looked down a hallway that was right out of a Medieval nightmare. <BR><BR>She chuckled at Elenath’s theory of a decadent penthouse suite. Her mental image was somewhat darker, a vision of a room similiar to a war-room, with maps of the TORC landscape spread on large tables, festooned with with little pins and flags marking the movements and whereabouts of every soul on the boards. Large, dark, threatening shapes moved around the table constantly, taking note of, well, whatever and whomever, and then disappeared to go swoop down on the offender, returning again and again to pinpoint more victims. And in a lofty balcony, shadowed and dimly lit with the light of an active palantir, there sat the three most feared figures in all of TORC. The Owners. She shuddered and shook her head to clear the images.</i><BR><BR>“I don’t know for certain who else may be here, but believe me, I have my suspicions,” <i> Scribbles growled softly, thinking of the recent dust-up in the Prancing Pony. </i> "I also have a distinct feeling that everyone they’ve nabbed have been spread out through the bowels of this place on purpose. I mean, I doubt the Mods would be so careless as to give us any advantage at all by putting us too close together. We have a choice, split up or stick together while we explore this level. What do you guys want to do?”<BR><BR>
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Postby Cynara » Sun Jun 16, 2002 11:30 am

"...And who told you I wouldn't mind being shared? It's somewhat uncomfortable, only being half-here, you know. I can't even talk to my other half, because she's under LoR's control! Maybe I should split <i>you</i>, and see how it feels!"<BR> Alessya paused for breathe, and QoR~Cynara jumped in quickly.<BR> "I'd gladly cleave you, Cynara, but <i>someone</i> wrote in that I lost my sword. I'm therefore quite useless for now."<BR> Seeing that these two were done, the rest jumped in, clamoring once morefor attention. Something in Cy's brain snapped, and she began screaming and ranting and gibbering along with her alter-egos. The resulting noise was amazing. The thick stone walls began to tremble slightly, and a couple of chips of mortar fell from the ceiling.
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Postby Maiden_of_the_Ice » Sun Jun 16, 2002 2:10 pm

"Hey, what the..." <i>suddenly Brilta, for yes, it was now Brilta, felt eight inches taller. Tentatively, she reached up to touch her ears. Pointy! With renewed happiness, she slipped out through one of the squares, landing unceremoniasly on the floor. Quickly, she reached for the fighting daggers she always kept in her boot, but there was nothing there but empty pockets. Her face fell.</i><BR><BR>"So.... which way do we go now?" <i>She walked silently a few steps in one direction, pausing.</i> "Do you think our horse's are somewhere in this mess?" <i>Even given the present circumstances, she had always felt it would be fun to really meet her horse. Silently, they began to walk, glancing anxiously into the cells along the way. Brilta still marveled at her tunic, breeches, and hair.</i><BR><BR>"So, do you think the mods hang out somewhere down here?"
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Postby wisteria » Sun Jun 16, 2002 3:51 pm

<i>Peering into the depths of her computer screen, Wiste could just make out the three figures far below. Their conversation was hard to hear, but it sounded like they were going to look for a way out.</i><BR><BR>“But be careful not to fall through, yourself,” <i>was the last thing she heard from them. There was a 'snick' and the sound of a door opening, and then they were gone. Her screen flashed once and returned to the normal TORC messageboard page.</i><BR><BR>“I’ll email Jonathan. He’ll know what’s going on,”<i>she decided. </i><BR><BR><i>Quickly she composed a short email to the only owner of TORC with whom she'd had contact. He knew her in another context other than the messageboard. Maybe she'd be able to get information from him. She hit the "Send" button and sat back to await his answer.</i><BR><BR><i>His reply was swift - almost as if he'd expected her contact.</i><BR><BR>“Dear FD,<BR><BR>As you are undoubtedly aware, Ted and I have been very displeased with the current status of the Pony. A crackdown was needed and we have given the moderators of that forum permission to take appropriate action. We know that, of late, you have been active in that forum, and “hanging around” the miscreants who inhabit it. Well, now they inhabit it in a literal sense and we will deal with them as we see fit.<BR><BR>The only reason ThreadStalker has not come after you is because of our past business dealings. You have been wayward, yes. But if you mend your ways and stay out of the Pony, we will not come after you. Heed my warning, FD. Stay out of the Pony. As soon as all the troublemakers are captured, the Pony will be shut and locked. Access will be denied to all TORC members who are in good standing.<BR><BR>You stand on the edge of a knife, FD. Tread carefully.<BR><BR>All the best,<BR>Jonathan.”<BR><BR><i>Not exactly what she'd hoped to hear. Things were much more dire than she thought. And close down the Pony?!? She had to work quickly. Edge of a knife indeed. Somehow she had to get her friends out of there - and not get caught in the meantime.</i><BR><BR><i>Opening a new window, she quickly made her way to the TORC Conspiracy thread. As before, the window turned gray, only now there were no dim voices to hear; the others had already begun to work their way out of the TORC dungeon. What she needed to do was provide them a way out. She scrolled back through what she'd read - there it was! A TORC penthouse from which Jonathan, Ted, and David controlled the TORC kingdom. If she could get the RPers up there, then they could face the owners themselves. But how?</i><BR><BR><i>She snapped her fingers - it was obvious. She backed up a page, back to the Pony Forum and clicked on "new topic." For the title, she wrote, "A TORC escape." She wrote the first post:</i><BR><BR>“Somewhere in the dungeons of TORC several Rpers wandered aimlessly about, trapped between the cyberspace of the Internet and the reality of their real lives. SilverScribe, Leoba, Maiden of the Ice, Cynara, Elnath, LindonBayne and Bardywn searched for the way out of the hell they found themselves in.<BR><BR>At the end of one of the halls of the dungeon stood a red wooden door, it’s hinges well-oiled and quiet. This was the door that led to the upper chambers of TORC; the door ThreadStalker himself used when he visited the hapless inhabitants of the dungeon. But Wisteria had no way of communicating her knowledge to the players within. Stuck in the real world, she desperately tried to create a path for them to follow.”<BR><BR><i>Would it work? Could she "write in" a door that didn't exist and, by doing so, bring it into existence? Stranger things than that were afoot and it was the only hope she had.</i>
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Postby lalatiel » Sun Jun 16, 2002 6:04 pm

Lalatiel could hear confused voices all around her, and- hey, where was she anyway? She sure wasn't in the mod's dungeon, she had been put somewhere else when Running Deer's voice blasted through the room. It seemed to be inside the TORC screen... she could hear Elenath and Scribbles and Leoba... but couldn't see them. She put her hand out blindly in the dark...<BR> <i>Hello? Can anyone hear me? Can anyone <b>see</b> me? Are the mods here? I'm so confused, someone help!</i><BR> Wait a second- this wasn't the <i>real</i> Elenath and Leoba and Scribbles... it was their RP characters... which must mean...<BR> Lalatiel pulled her cloak around her. Cloak? Yes, it was dark and black... as was her hair... she was also her RP character, a goddess!<BR> <i>This is so weird... hey, guys, talk to me! I can hardly see you at all, where are you?</i> She waited for an answer...
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Postby Bardhwyn » Sun Jun 16, 2002 7:26 pm

<i>The wailing began. Ted gritted his teeth as the howling increased and he decided he just had to say something this time.</i><BR><BR>“ThreadStalker!” <i>he shouted while still watching his VDU – another newbie was signing on as a Premium Member – he watched as the last few digits of the credit card was entered and could see, to his pleasure, it was a valid one. Ted swiveled in his chair…</i>“will you please cut with the…”<BR><BR><i>Ted stopped and stared at the other end of the room.</i><BR>“Jon. Jon. Hey!” <i>Ted swatted Jon lightly on the arm.</i><BR>“Hum?” <i>Jon answered, his eyes fixed on his computer screen.</i><BR>“Look.”<BR><BR><i>Jon turned towards Ted, looking quizzical.</i> “What?” <BR><i>He saw the look on Ted’s face, a slightly surprised one. Ted gestured to the opposite end of the room with a smile and a nod of his head. Jon turned to face what he thought would be ThreadStalker, alone. <BR><BR>ThreadStalker was there, tall, ominous and whimpering slightly. He cradled his right arm, which was bright red.</i> “She BURNED me!”<i>he yowled.</i><BR><BR><i>Off to one side and crouching slightly behind a desk was a woman, mid 30’s with short cropped blonde hair, pierced nose (with a tasteful nose stud, thank you.), tank top and blue jeans looking very wary but also, definitely, peeved.</i><BR><BR>“Jon!?” <i>she said. Her eyes narrowed as she huddled closer to the wall. ‘It is Jon!’, she thought to herself, recognizing the man from his TORC portrait. He was unmistakable; clean shaven, blonde, tall, … ‘yup, he is cute.’ she concluded. She cast a wary glance at the other man, bespectacled. dark.</i> “And you must be Ted, right?” <BR><BR><i>Ted nodded with a grin.</i> “Funny”<i>, he said,</i> “I always thought your hair would be longer, Bardhwyn.” <BR> <BR><i>HJ snorted. </i>“I am not Bardhwyn. She’s a character in a story. I’m a real person. What the hell is going on here? Why is he grabbing at me from a computer screen? <BR><BR><i>Jon got up, walked to ThreadStalker and hastily expected the Mod’s burned arm, which was glowing redder with each little whimper.</i> “You’re all right, cut it out.”<i> He said impatiently.</i> “And as for you,” <i>Jon spat, pointing at HJ in the corner, </i>“the third level dungeon. ThreadStalker, get her outta here.” <BR><BR><i>ThreadStalker hesitated, recollecting the beating he’d received earlier and hung back slightly. Jon, exasperated, pushed him forward.</i> “Go on, you big dope....”<BR><BR>“YOU! BACK OFF!! <i> HJ hollered, pointing at ThreadStalker. The huge figure jumped and whimpered again. HJ scooted out from behind the desk and placed herself between Jon and his computer array.<BR><BR></i> “I deserve an explanation! I pay my membership fees! What’s the big idea threatening ME with a dungeon?!” <i>she demanded, pointing a firm finger in his direction.</i><BR><BR><i>Ted gave a chuckle and looked over to his partner.</i> “Well,” <i>he said,</i> “completely in character!” <BR><BR><i>Jon, who was taller than HJ expected, took a few paces in her direction with his hands placed firmly and defiantly on his hips.</i><BR>“You violated the TOS.”<BR>“What? With a simple kiss… that you edited OUT? That’s absurd!” <i>HJ retorted though she was panicking slightly. She was dealing with madmen!</i><BR><BR>“Violators of the TOS must be dealt with and the best place to do that is in TORC. You will be held in the dungeons and dealt with accordingly.”<BR><BR><i>There was something in Jon’s voice that caused HJ to looked hard into his face. He wasn’t telling the whole truth - that was obvious to her. (Her attributing Bardhwyn with such a talent was no mere flight of fancy!)</i><BR><BR>“No. That’s not it, is it?”<i>She queried.</i> “There is something else going on here. This isn’t about the TOS? Or ‘a kiss’ or even one-liners, it’s something else! What is it?”<BR><BR><i>Jon and Ted exchanged a quick but worried glance at one another. Jon gestured to Ted, which was acknowledged by a nod (– Ted then resumed his place at his computer, drew up a screen covered in HTML code and began typing furiously – ) and Jon brought his gaze, now gravely serious, back to HJ. To her it seemed tinged with worry. Seeing this change in the man, HJ became concerned, not for herself but for them.</i><BR><BR>“What is it? Tell me! I might be able to help you!”<BR><BR><i>Jon gave a quick shake of his head.</i> “No, Bardhwyn. You’re wrong.” <BR><BR><i>‘And you’re lying!’ she screamed in her mind. Her gazed softened when she saw the small trace of worry in the tall man’s eyes.</i> “Please. You can trust me.” <i>She whispered. <BR><BR>Jon, ignoring this plea, stepped off to one side and looked over to Ted.</i> “Ready?”<i> he asked. Ted, making a last few exaggerated taps on his computer keyboard, grinned and gave a quick nod. Jon then gestured to ThreadStalker with a small wave, saying: </i>“ThreadStalker, it’s time. Third level.”<BR><BR><i>ThreadStalker moved into action with a roar. The programming Ted had just finished over rode the pain sensors in the Mod’s coding (and any sense of intimidation towards this woman as well) and TS scooped up the woman like a pillow off a bed. HJ fought viciously but was no match for this new and improved ThreadStalker, and together - sans sound effects – they melted into the VDU of the PC opposite.<BR><BR>Jon slumped into his chair and with his elbows on his desk, buried his face in his hands.</i><BR>“It’s all right buddy.” <i>Ted said.</i> “You did the right thing.”<BR>“Did I? Did we? Are we?” <i>he asked through his hands.</i><BR>“We’ve been over this.” <i>Ted said as he stood up and made his way to the coffee machine.</i><BR>“Yeah, yeah. I know.” <i>Jon threw his hands down, sat back in his chair and rolled up to his array. <BR><BR>Deep on the third level of the TORC dungeon, HJ hit the floor hard and let out a yelp of pain. ThreadStalker melted up and out of the cell and HJ watched as the reverse image of the Windows Deskstop, emanating from the cell’s ceiling, slowly faded into stone. The quiet desperation she so effectively described Bardhwyn feeling while being held captive by the evil Malthus was now taking on a very real feel.</i><BR>
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Postby Leoba » Mon Jun 17, 2002 2:22 am

[OOC: apologies for the length of this post - I kind of got a bit carried away.<img src="http://www.tolkienonline.com/mb/i/expressions/face-icon-small-blush.gif"border=0><img src="http://www.tolkienonline.com/mb/i/expressions/face-icon-small-blush.gif"border=0> If you don’t want to bother reading it all, the last 350 words are the only vaguely useful bit.]<BR><BR><BR>“Scribbles, I don’t want to sound scared, because I’m not - much. But I’d rather stick together. And perhaps we ought to at least have a bit of a look around here whilst we try to find a way out. Elenath suggested looking for reinforcements. Well, there have been screams and bangs echoing all over the place, I think we ought to investigate.”<BR><BR><i>As they walked down the corridor a nauseous smell permeated their nostrils. It grew stronger with every step until it was overpowering, suffocating, sickly. It seemed to be strongest by a tall beech-wood door, in curiosity Leoba pulled hesitantly on the handle, it was stiff and unyielding. In the time-honoured tradition of women she turned and used her backside against it, driving her feet firmly into the ground to lever her body. Gradually and resistant to the very last, the door shifted enough for Leoba to be able to squeeze around the edge. A horrific sight greeted her. <BR><BR>The room beyond the door was large but the full extent of its dimensions were concealed from view. For it was heaped with a mountain of remains, a multitude of orcs of varying breeds and in varying states of destruction and decay. Some were missing limbs, one had a black-shafted arrow driven clean through his neck, congealed with dried blood around the edges of the wound. As she looked again, Leoba realised that there was more in there than just orcs. The carcass of a black hose lay only a few feet away and there were humans and elves in there too. <BR><BR>A sudden movement caught her off guard, as a loose head rolled off one of the piles, tumbling over and over with careless abandon until it came to rest at her feet, its wild eyes staring up at her in the uncomprehending horror of his last sight alive. ‘Oh my goodness, I recognise that face’, she thought. It was one of the horse-thieves from ‘Redemption’, killed by her hands only a short while earlier. She barely stifled a scream, backing hastily out the way she had come. Her immediate instinct was to retch. Bent double, she felt dizzy and disorientated and was violently sick. <BR><BR>The spinning feeling subsided. Scribbles and Elenath were looking at her, with concern in their deep elven eyes. </i><BR><BR>“What was in there?” <i>Elenath questioned, her voice hushed lest it echo all the way down the corridor</i>.<BR><BR><i>Leoba explained, as best she could, what she’d seen. </i><BR><BR>“So this is what happens when RPers kill or get killed, they end up here in the bowels of TORC”. <i>Scribbles surmised.</i> “Just please, don’t take this the wrong way, but do us a favour and don’t go slipping into any other rooms without thinking; we don’t know quite what we might find in here.” <BR><BR><i>Dim understanding slowly dawned in Leoba’s brain. She had always supposed that bodies were just left in the threads for all eternity, frozen in time where their writers had deserted them. The Mods were more effective in cleaning up than she had ever suspected. <BR><BR>They moved away from the stench surrounding that particular doorway and towards the scent of incense, which was drifting with somnolent ease through the corridors of the Mod forum. The mist was thickest around a solid door, set within a carved archway. They would have hurried on in pursuit of their lost TORC comrades but behind them came the steady, menacing tread of ThreadStalker; the thump of his boots on the stone floor was unmistakable. The footsteps came nearer…..</i><BR><BR>“Quickly, we’ve got to get out of sight.” <BR><BR><i>Without waiting for a word of assent, Scribbles pushed on the nearby door and dived through, pulling Leoba and Elenath after her. The room before them was light and airy and awash with myriad colours, in sharp contrast to the dank room full of bodies they had come across earlier. It was lit by shafts, high up in the ceiling, which allowed sunlight to pour in unhindered. It shone on a gilded statue, ten feet tall and beset with precious gems, which dominated the scene as figure of veneration. The figure was of a great warrior, arrayed in a surcoat bearing the arms of TolkienOnline and carrying a mace. The incense-burner swung above, filling the small temple cell with a mystical fragrance. A dark haired maiden was pulling it on ropes, scarcely more than fourteen years of age by the look of her, whilst another young girl was bowed down before it in silent awe.<BR><BR>Leoba leant back on the door, as though by some miracle her slight frame would be enough to prevent anyone gaining access. The two occupiers of the room look hard at the newcomers who had dared to disturb their sanctuary. The dark-haired one ceased swinging the incense burner and pointed at Leoba. Leoba’s heart sank, she recognised the girl only too well. It was twlight_maiden, created on the spur of the moment as a swooning alter ego and thence abandoned with callous thoughtlessness.</i><BR><BR>“I no U”. <i>twilight_maiden put her hands on her slim hips.</i> “U maid me leoab & i HATE u Y didnt u post to that thraed as urself.!!!!!!1111”<BR><BR><i>Leoba cringed, quite as much at the atrocious spelling as at the reappearance of a rarely used user-name.</i> “I’m sorry”, <i>she tried to explain but was cut short by the teenager who now advanced with a look of thunder across her face.</i><BR><BR>“u left me half maid only parrrtli desined.and al becuz u were 2 scared to swoon4 barad-dur as urself!! y didnt U give me a propper name. Y did u do this 2 me?/ wot were u scared ur night mite find out or sumthink!”<BR><BR><i>Leoba shot back a hasty retort</i>. “You should be grateful my girl. I nearly called you ‘I_swoon_4_Barad-dur’. It could have been worse.”<BR><BR><i>twlight_maiden suddenly tore at her flimsy dress, exposing her white shoulder. Leoba looked on in horror, taking in the dark lettering tattooed thereon: ‘BD 4 EVA’, surrounded by a heart. She inwardly cringed as the girl spat at her.</i><BR><BR>“u gave me hardli NE personnality . u coodnt eevan make me spel properly how wood u like 2 be stuck in the fandom forum 4EVA.<BR><BR>“I’ll make it up to you twlight_maiden, really I will just as soon as I get out of here. I’ll give you a character bio and everything. I’ll even make the time to teach you to spell and to RP with you.”<BR><BR>“i don’t need U NEmore” <i>The maiden reached for the hand of the other girl</i>. “kelpie_ girl is my freind now.” <i>They both knelt down, still hand in hand and kissed the feet of the statue. <BR><BR>Scribbles was creased up in laughter at the look of severe embarrassment on Leoba’s face. </i> “When you told me that you’d created twlight_maiden, I didn’t realise she was that bad! Come on ThreadStalker must’ve been and gone by now. Let’s go. I just hope you didn’t give her any intelligence.”<BR><BR>“I barely created her at all. With any luck, she’ll just stay here, polishing his mace and swooning.”<BR><BR><i>The Three exited the swooning-chamber and looked up and down the torch-lit corridor, debating which way to go. To the right the ground seemed to heading uphill ever so slightly, culminating in a red door which was barely perceptible to Leoba’s human eyes in the gloom. But the other option was to go downhill, towards the yelp of pain that they had briefly heard before. </i><BR><BR>“That way looks more promising if we want to try and get to the root of the problem quickly”, <i>she said, gesturing towards the red door,</i> “but I have a gut feeling about heading down to the lower levels”. <i>With a frown marring her face, Leoba twisted the ring made of twin strands of silver which she wore on the middle finger of her right hand. At least there were some things she’d done right; ever since she’d asked Enty for Fëacenta, the Life Ring of Empathy, she had been on the lookout for a real life ring to match her imagined one. Finally, she’d found what she was looking for on the hand of a jeweller friend and convinced him to make one for her. She’d taken to wearing it all the time in real life, just as her role-play character did with the ring of power. *** Small and Accidental Ring Action *** As Leoba twisted the ring, she felt its force pulse through her finger and into her veins towards her heart. And then she knew with absolute certainty what they could not see. *** End Small and Accidental Ring Action *** </i><BR><BR>“There are others in here, I can feel them. I’m not sure who or where. No, wait.” <i>Leoba closed her eyes, as the force coursed through her veins once more.</i> “Bardy’s here, I can sense her desperation. And, I think there are more. Yes: lalatiel, Maiden of the Ice, Cynara and LindonBayne are here as well. That way, if you want to find them?”<BR><BR><i>Leoba had surprised herself. But then, maybe one could really do anything in here, all one had to do was believe. She waited to see whether Scribbles and Elenath trusted her intuition.</i><BR><BR>
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Postby Bardhwyn » Mon Jun 17, 2002 6:48 am

(OOC: <b>PSSST!! <a target=new href="http://www.tolkienonline.com/thewhitecouncil/messageview.cfm?catid=25&threadid=49548">The TORC Conspiracy - A Word Aside</a><BR><BR>and Leoba... I LOVED your post...it was FAB! No apologies necessary as far as I am concerned, friend!! <img src="http://www.tolkienonline.com/mb/i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0> )
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Postby Maiden_of_the_Ice » Mon Jun 17, 2002 1:33 pm

<i>Lindon and Brilta seemed to wander endlessly about, past similar- yet empty cells. Agrivation boiled over in Brilta. She exhaled in utter disgust. She turned and slammed the wall with her fist. If there was one thing both her Torc character and her real personality shared in common, it was extreme impatence. But as her fist hit the wall, an awful cracking sound met their ears. Brilta glanced back at Lindon, shooting her an apologetic look. Suddenly, the wall gave way, swinging back into some dark cavernous room. But on closer inspection, it wasn't a wall, it was a....</i><BR><BR>"Lindon, look, this is a door!" <i>She shouted incredulously. Surprised, the two Elves, if they could really be called Elves, walked through the sort of door cautiously, wherein, they saw, much to their shock, a room full of glowing links. They were the shade of bright blue Brilta knew so well, hovering gently over pedastels of varying height, and emitting clouds of luminous blue light. This was... the Pony? Certain threads emitted fierce scarlett lights, dotting the mile long corridor with red streaks, some many feet long. Seeing a familiar thread, Brilta pushed it gently, and before their eyes a holographic image unfolded. The short thread unfolded before her, various characters interacting and talking, while another character appeared and walked off to the sidelines of the inn. So this was how the mods checked all the threads. Noticing something, Lindon nudged Brilta.</i><BR><BR>"Look, over there. It's some other kind of door. The ones the mods must use." <i>Brilta worried her lip, and unsurely began to stride towards the door. Hesitating, she opened it, it's great black handle chilling iron. But they did not come out in front of some extravegant palace or anything, but another door. It was red, with polished metallic handles. Upon opening it, which seemed to take an eternity, the found a flight of stairs, three other figures visible to them. </i><BR><BR>"Right then." <i>Brilta hesitantly began up the stairs, starting at a walk, then beginning to run.</i>
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Postby Elenath » Mon Jun 17, 2002 1:44 pm

<i>Elenath noticed Leoba twisting her ring, and looked down at her right hand. Yes, there it was! Her silver ring, the diamond glinting in the pale light, just where it should be. Why hadn't she thought of it before? Now wasn't the time to use it, but it might come in handy later...<BR><BR>When Leoba asked if they wanted to go find the others who were trapped here, Elenath didn't hesitate.</i> "I vote that we head down. The more people we have working with us, the better our chances are. And besides, I don't like thinking about what they must be going through, trapped in those cells."<BR><BR><i>Scribbles agreed, and they headed downwards. They stopped when they got to the next level, and looked at Leoba.</i> "Can you feel anything?"<i> Elenath asked her softly. She closed her eyes, twisting her ring again.</i><BR><BR>"I can feel Bardhwyn," <i>she said slowly,</i> "but I think she's still below us."<BR><BR>"Then let's go down one or two more levels, see if we can find her," <i>said Scribbles. </i>"We could use her help."<BR><BR><i>They continued down, but she wasn't on the next level. They went down again, but Elenath was starting to get nervous. She really hoped that Bardhwyn was on this level: she didn't know how much deeper she could go. They stopped, and Leoba closed her eyes in concentration.</i><BR><BR>"I think she's here!" <i>Leoba's eyes popped open, and she pointed. </i>"She's not far, just down the hall."<BR><BR><i>They started down the hall, knocking on the doors.</i> "Bardhwyn! Bardy! Are you here?"
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Postby Bardhwyn » Mon Jun 17, 2002 2:14 pm

(OOC: Lalatiel and Maiden.. please check the word aside thread. Ta.~ B)
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Postby lalatiel » Mon Jun 17, 2002 3:15 pm

((Um, Bardh, I e-mailed you... does this have something to do with this RP? I mean, duh... what I meant was, can I continue?))
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Postby SilverScribe » Mon Jun 17, 2002 7:05 pm

<BR><i> As they entered the darkest, grungiest corrider of the lowest level, debating how they were going to break Bardhwyn out when and if they found her, Scribbles suddenly held up a hand and stopped. A wide grin spread slowly across her features, then she chuckled.</i><BR><BR>“Well I’ll be, elven hearing IS sharper, listen, Elenath, hear that?”<BR><BR><i> They could hear a faint yelling, a voice calling out in obvious desperation. Elenath nodded agreement, while Leoba strained to hear what they were talking about. </i><BR><BR>“It’s on this level, I’m pretty sure, though down here it could be echoing from any one of these cells.”<BR><BR><i> Scribbles bit her lip, thinking.</i> “Okay, lets go from side to side then, and work our way down the passage. We’re bound to find whoever is calling, I sure hope it’s Bardy . . . C’mon girls, time’s a wastin’ . . .”<BR><BR><i> With that, they began peering through the high barred windows on the solid looking iron-strapped wooden slabs that seemed to serve as doors on this level. The faint voice grew louder and suddenly Leoba yelled with excitement.</i><BR><BR>“Hey, I found someone, in here, come quick you two!!”<BR><BR><i> They rushed over and peeked in and sure enough, a young, dark haired maiden looked up with obvious relief. Elenath pointed to the lock and grinned at Scribbles, who sighed and proceeded to get down and pick her second lock of the day. After a few frustrating minutes, they had the newcomer freed. Lalatiel introduced herself, Elenath made the introductions for the rest and after a few minutes of exchanging news and stories of how they each found themselves in the dungeons, Leoba politely reminded them that they still had to find Bardhwyn. </i><BR><BR>“Right! Off we go then!! Come on you lot!!” <i> said Scribbles in her best Yorkshire accent, then winked at Leoba as now four of them resumed the search.</i><BR><BR>((OOC) . . . of course you can continue lalatiel!! Hope you don't mind tagging along with TORC's most wanted, LOL. <img src="http://www.tolkienonline.com/mb/i/expressions/face-icon-small-happy.gif"border=0>))<BR><BR><BR>
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Postby Bardhwyn » Tue Jun 18, 2002 7:42 am

<i>HJ paced the confines of her cell, her arms wrapped tightly around her in efforts to ward off the damp cold. Her tank top, suitable for a warm summer day in an office with no air conditioning was proving unsuitable attire for incarceration. She chuckled to herself.. 'How I dislike being improperly attired' she joked to herself in a posh British accent. She let out a laugh that echoed out into the cell and she immediately noticed the acoustics were superb; round and full. She sang a scale...</i><BR><BR>"do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti dooo..." <i>she allowed a wee bit of vibrato to accentuate the legato.</i><BR><BR>"Nice sound in here..."<i>HJ took in a deep breath, deep from the diaphragm and began to sing her favorite phrase from her favorite aria.... Michiamano Mimi...</i><BR><BR>"....ma quando vien lo sgelo<BR>il primo sole è mio..."<BR><i>((But when the thaw comes<BR>The first sunshine is mine))</i><BR><BR><i>HJ breathed, visualized the next note, opened, placed it and gave over to it...</i><BR><BR>"...il primo bacio dell'aprile è mio!<BR>il primo sole è mio!...."<BR><i>((The first kiss of April is mine!<BR>The first sunshine is mine!))</i><BR><BR><i>In her imagination she heard the orchestra swell with Puccini's brilliance and she was on stage, blinded by the lights but feeling the press and expectation of the faceless audience, out there, in the dark..."</i><BR><BR>"Germoglia in un vaso una rosa...<BR>Foglia a foglia la spiol<BR>Cosi gentile il profumo d'un fiore!<BR>Ma i fior chlio faccio, ahimè!<BR>i fior chlio faccio, ahimè!<BR>non hanno odore.<BR>Altro di me non le saprei narrare.<BR>Sono la sua vicina che la vien<BR>fuori d'ora a importunate.<BR><i>((A rose opens in a vase<BR>Petal by petal I watch it!<BR>That gentle perfume of a flower!<BR>But the flowers that I make, alas!<BR>the flowers that I make, alas!<BR>they have no odor!<BR>About me I know nothing else to tell<BR>I am your neighbor who comes<BR>to bother you at the wrong moment.))</i><BR><BR><i>HJ opened her wet eyes. She wasn't on stage. She was in a dank cell somewhere. Faintly, in the distance she thought she heard voices calling a name..'Bardhwyn'.</i> <BR><BR>"Bardhwyn!" <i>she gasped,</i> "That's me!" <BR><i>She rushed to the door and began pounding, shouting... </i>"I'm here! Here! Over here!"
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Postby Cynara » Tue Jun 18, 2002 1:45 pm

Cynara, meanwhile, was pacing her now-cramped cell, trying to think over the odd sounds from the level above. "Serenfea?" she called, thinking of way to get out.<BR> "Yes?" the purple-eyed ghost answered.<BR> "Could you go through here and unlock the door?" Cynara pleaded.<BR> "Nope!" Serenfea said it almost gleefully. "Here, in the bowels of TORC, I'm like a real ghost. My hand would pass through the lock. We're stuck."<BR> Cynara sighed, and Aliya stepped forward, glaring and dripping blood at Cynara. "I think that..."<BR><i> "Aliya fell silent!"</i> Cynara said. She had discover this power sometime before. If she spoke as if she was writing a post, the Char had to obey.<BR> 'So this's what it's like to be a game-master...pretty spiffy!' Cynara thought, prodding the walls for weak points.
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Postby lalatiel » Tue Jun 18, 2002 2:56 pm

(( Ooc- TORC's baddest, LOL, I bet))<BR><BR>Hey, do you hear that? I think I hear someone on the lower levels, two people maybe.<BR><i>Elenath and Scribbles stopped and looked at each other, and at the same moment exclaimed</i><BR> Bardhwyn!<BR><i>and ran off. Lalatiel, or Praycien, or whoever she was at the moment, ran as fast as she could trying to keep up with them, which she managed with great difficulty. Looks like she was getting a bit out of shape...</i>
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Postby SilverScribe » Tue Jun 18, 2002 7:59 pm

<BR><i>Leoba trotted alongside Lalatiel, both of them hurrying after the two others. Scribbles called back over her shoulder . . . </i><BR><BR>“Are you sure that’s Bardhwyn? Hang on everyone, I’ve lost it . . .”<BR><BR><i> They all stopped for a few moments to get their bearings and listen for the voice again. When it resumed, Lalatiel pointed it out.<BR><BR>Scribbles nodded, frowning.</i> “Sounds like some lunatic howling in Italian, Puccini if I’m not mistaken!”<BR><BR><i>Leoba grinned, looked at Scribbles, then at Elenath and Lalatiel.</i><BR><BR>“Bardhwyn!!” <i> They all chorused at once, then continued their trek down the long, long and increasingly dark passage.</i><BR><BR>
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Postby Guruthostirn » Tue Jun 18, 2002 10:12 pm

(<u>OOC</u>: Double post stupidity<img src="http://www.tolkienonline.com/mb/i/expressions/face-icon-small-mad.gif"border=0>, so I'll use the opprotunity....WARNING WARNING, HUGE POST AHEAD (Newbie getting a little free with his first RP post<img src="http://www.tolkienonline.com/mb/i/expressions/face-icon-small-happy.gif"border=0><img src="http://www.tolkienonline.com/mb/i/expressions/face-icon-small-happy.gif"border=0><img src="http://www.tolkienonline.com/mb/i/expressions/face-icon-small-happy.gif"border=0>)<img src="http://www.tolkienonline.com/mb/i/expressions/face-icon-small-happy.gif"border=0><img src="http://www.tolkienonline.com/mb/i/expressions/face-icon-small-smile.gif"border=0><img src="http://www.tolkienonline.com/mb/i/expressions/face-icon-small-devil.gif"border=0>)
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Postby Guruthostirn » Tue Jun 18, 2002 10:12 pm

<i>It had started several days ago, the problems with his borrowed laptop. First there had been that disappearing window, with which he had been reading that most amusing Pony thread, the TORC Conspiracy. Then, the next day, the batteries of the laptop suddenly stopped working. That Completely freaked RM out. Now, though, nothing was going on. RM was quietly perusing the threads on the laptop, now seemingly fine, sitting in bed listening to the radio. He had been panicked, and slightly suspicious of the events earlier, but he figured that was just paranoia that had been induced by his over imaginative mind after reading that TORC Conspiracy stuff. Of Course he knew it was just his imagination, his sister was one of the people supposedly caught in the TORC Dungeon.<BR><BR>Suddenly, a thought struck him. “I haven’t seen sis for a while, and though I’ve talked to her, she’s turned rather odd recently. No, it must just be my imagination again.” With that happy thought, he returned to his reading of the boards.<BR><BR>As he continued to read feeling crept over him. He just couldn’t get that funny feeling that his sister just wasn’t his sister. After a moment of agonizing thought, a realization percolated through his preoccupied mind. The radio wasn’t working. He stretched over, and started playing with the tuner. Oddly, none of the stations were on.<BR><BR>Suddenly, the static modulated itself into a hard, grating voice.</i><BR><BR><b>ATTENTION, NEWBIE! WE HAVE BEEN WATCHING YOUR PROGRESS ON THE BOARDS! BASED ON YOUR POSTS, WE HAVE DECIDED YOU ARE A THREAT, AND MUST BE <u>REMOVED</u>! YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED TO BECOME AN OBJECT LESSON FOR ALL ONE LINE POSTERS AND OTHER NEWBIE-ISH ILK! WE WILL TELL ALL OF YOUR TERRIBLE FATE! PREPARE TO MEET YOUR DOOM!</b><BR><BR><i>This last sentence came not only out of the radio, but also out of the speakers of RM’s laptop. Just in time to see his screen dissolve into darkness as the voice stopped, RM whipped his head around. As he sat there shocked, the blackened screen suddenly seemed to disappear. Out of the void emerged a hand, sheathed in a spiked steel gauntlet. Sitting on his bed, with the laptop on his lap (<img src="http://www.tolkienonline.com/mb/i/expressions/face-icon-small-tongue.gif"border=0>), RM had no chance to avoid the hand. It grabbed one of his arms, and began hauling him into the widening void.</i><BR><BR>“Help!!!” <i>RM screamed, hoping to attract the attention of anyone, even the neighbors.</i><BR><BR><b>”SAVE YOUR BREATH,”</b> <i>came the voice from the computer.</i> <b>”WE CONTROL REALITY NEAR YOU, AND NO ONE WILL HEAR YOUR SCREAMS!”</b><BR><BR><i>As his head was finally pulled into the void/screen, RM heard his voice quit. As he entered, he could hear nothing. Not even the clinking of the gauntlet he still felt about his wrist.<BR><BR>Interminable moments passed, and RM was dropped into a cold, dank, smelly cell. Not even moss adorned the diseased stone walls.</i><BR><BR><b>”HERE YOU WILL STAY, UNTIL THE END OF TIME!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA” </b><BR><BR><i>RM picked himself up, and as he did, he noticed something really funny. He was no longer wearing the t-shirt and pants he thought he had on, but a dusty brown cloak, with gray robes underneath. On his back he felt the weight familiar to all students, a backpack. Taking it off, he was dismayed to find that though there was an amazing amount of stuff, only a folding chair was recognizable! All the rest, though present, was just undefined bits and pieces! With a flash, he realized what was happening.</i><BR><BR>“This is exactly like what I read! I’ve become my character from the boards! Only, I barely have one! I haven’t even joined any RP’s yet! All I have is what I said I have in a few posts. THIS IS UNFAIR!! Those stupid Mods grabbed me before I had a chance to make a proper character! I can’t do ANYTHING!!!<BR><BR>“At least I still have that folding chair. I am so glad I included that, at least I don’t have to sit on the floor.” <i>Guru looked down at the floor expecting to wince, but then realized that he was fully becoming his character, a wanderer, surely used to grime and filth.<BR><BR>As he pulled the folding chair from his backpack of horrors, a flickering on his hand caught Guru’s eye. A gray band of smoke circled his finger. His ring from the ring guild! After a moment of elation, Guru realized that he could probably not use it, for he hadn’t had time to post how he had envisioned it.</i><BR><BR>“I thought it would be mithril, mirror like. It would have been so beautiful, But now, I’ll never have the chance to make it that way.”<BR><BR><i>As he remembered what he thought it would look like, the gray smoke swirled and disappeared. In it’s place there was a perfectly flat band encircling Guru’s finger, polished as mirror.</i><BR><BR>“What the....? Just saying it made it happen?” <i>Guru thought for a moment, then imagined himself holding a flaming spear tipped with spikes of jade. Nothing happened. Then he tried imagining a sword, forged of Mithril and Starstone before the destruction of Balariand, just like the one his character that he had been working on, and that he was no living, had. Suddenly it appeared.</i><BR><BR>“So, I can develop my character only according to what I’ve already come up with. Interesting.....”<BR><BR><i>After a moment of wild elation, Guru sat down again, his spirits falling. Even in his imagination he hadn’t defined his character all that well. He knew that there was a sword, and he knew some of the history of Guruthostirn. Other then that, he hadn’t worked on. Suddenly the voice of TS boomed out of the ceiling.</i><BR><BR><b>"YOU ARE IN VIOLATION OF DUNGEON RULES!! YOU MAY NO LONGER PROCEDE WITH UNAUTHORIZED CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT"</b><BR><BR><i>With that Guru's new sword vanished, and when he tried to add his staff he imagined Guru used, it didn't appear. Now he was limited to that which he had at the moment.</i><BR><BR>“This must be why the Mods chose me to be their ‘Object Lesson.’ I was fooling around, and hadn’t even worked on my character yet. And now they won't even let me implement my existing concept of him any more!”<BR><BR><i>With that thought, Guru started to think about getting out of here. Last he had read on the TORC Conspiracy thread, there were several people, including his sister in her TORC character, wandering around. He focused on his ring, the Light Ring of Questioning and Enlightenment, and suddenly he knew he was right. He had become enlightened to the situation, and could tell what was going on. Oh, he was glad he had chosen that ring. <BR><BR>Unfortunately his new knowledge told him that the others had just recently passed his cell. The Mods must have known that! They didn’t want him found!</i><BR><BR>“Curse you, ThreadStalker! I’ll get out of here in spite of you!”<BR><BR><i>Guru started hammering on the door with his sword, screaming at the top of his lungs, making as much noise as possible, hoping to be noticed.</i>
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Postby Bardhwyn » Wed Jun 19, 2002 1:38 pm

(OOC: Leoba's post....)<BR><BR><i>It was a scene reminiscent of legend. More<BR>specifically the legend of Richard the Lionheart who,<BR>whilst imprisoned in Austria, had sung one of the lays<BR>to which he was so partial. The notes of that song<BR>had floated down from his prison window high in the<BR>castle wall and came to rest in the ears of one of his<BR>troubadours, passing by searching for his master and<BR>friend. The minstrel recognised the king from his<BR>voice and thus the Coeur de Lion was found. Bardhwyn’s<BR>singing was clear and pure and likewise unmistakable<BR>to those who knew and loved her. Leoba looked over at<BR>Scribbles, </i><BR><BR><BR>“It’s got to be Bardhwyn. How many other TORCers do<BR>you know with talent like that and a penchant for<BR>Puccini?”<BR><BR><BR><i>Elenath stepped up to the small hatch in the door<BR>which passed for a window into the cell. She peered<BR>through, her face filling the frame.</i> “It that you,<BR>Bardhwyn? Sort of looks like Bardhwyn should.. Hang on there a minute and we’ll try and get you out.”<BR><BR><BR><i>It was hardly an invitation that Bardhwyn would<BR>choose to reject. Elenath backed away to give over to<BR>Scribbles. Whilst the Scribe produced the make-shift<BR>lock-picking device that she had used to free them<BR>earlier, Elenath and Leoba each took a position<BR>watching the corridor. Now they’d stopped every<BR>little sound seemed magnified one thousand-fold. There<BR>was a drip, drip, drip of water somewhere in these<BR>cavernous depths which echoed around them and the<BR>chink of chains, interspersed with screams. The palms<BR>of Leoba’s hands felt moist with sweat. This was<BR>exactly the sort of moment when she should have been<BR>‘fingering the carved hilt of her elven dagger, calm<BR>in the knowledge that its blade was honed and ready,<BR>her keen green eyes watching the passageway like a<BR>hawk’. But no. For like the others, she was devoid<BR>of weapons. She stood desperately straining her ears<BR>for any hint of a footstep clunking in the gloom. <BR>After what seemed like hours, the lock clicked open<BR>under Scribbles’ ministrations and the friends all<BR>breathed a welcome sigh of relief.<BR><BR><BR>Before them in her dank prison stood HJ. Leoba had always thought that she looked remarkably like Bardhwyn, except without that awful facial scar that the Archer of Dale had so considerately been given by her creator. She rushed alone in to the cell to give her friend a<BR>hug.</i><BR><BR><BR>“H, it’s so good to see you again. Well not so good given the present circumstances, but you know what I mean.”<BR><BR><BR><i>HJ allowed the woman to envelope her a friendly hug.</i>"You look like... LEOBA! H!"<i>HJ returned the hug and grinned, </i> “Yes, its a little sooner than expected perhaps.”<BR><BR><BR>“I know. And there I was frantically buying lottery tickets so I could afford the flight to meet up with you guys. Little did I know that this was going to happen.”<BR><BR><BR><i>The first part of the mission accomplished, they made to head off to investigate the other bangs and screams which they had heard.</i><BR><BR><BR>“I suppose I should be thankful for small mercies,” <i>Leoba remarked to Bardhwyn as they turned for the door, </i> “I could have been sucked in here in my night-clothes; frequently enough I TORC before getting dressed properly in the morning. Now that would have been embarrassing!”<BR><BR><BR><i>Bardhwyn looked hard at Leoba.</i> “You look pretty decently dressed to me. How come you 'are' Leoba?”<BR><BR><BR>“Ah, I have Scribbles to thank for that.”<BR><BR>"SCRIBBLES! Scribbles is here?!"<BR><BR><i>Scribbles stuck her head into the cell and put a finger to her lips, to motion Leoba to be quieter.</i> “Come on out of there! So now which way?” <i>she inquired as Leoba pulled HJ in the dank corridor.</i> “If there are others here, we should find them. And urgently.</i><BR><BR><BR>“Indeed we should; it’s only a matter of time before the Mods discover that we’re on the loose.” <i>responded Leoba.</i><BR><BR><BR>“And a few defensive weapons mightn’t go amiss”, <i>Bardhwyn added</i>" Er, but...maybe I should change, too? From the looks of things it might be to my advantage? Whaddya say? I'm ready and willing, scar and all!"<BR><BR><BR><BR>
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Postby lalatiel » Wed Jun 19, 2002 2:39 pm

Thank goodness we found you. <i>said Lalatiel to Bardhwyn.</i> Do you know where everyone else is? I could have sworn I just heard something that sounded like a newbie. A newbie won't last for long down here- we gotta find him (?).<BR> <i>Bardhwyn nodded thoughtfully, and Scribbles and Leoba and Elenath all agreed. </i><BR> So, which way do you figure? If the mods have any heart they'd put the newbies in the top forums... maybe not Welcome, but a little below. But... mods? Heart? He'll (?) be lucky if it wasn't ThreadStalker that got him.
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Postby lalatiel » Wed Jun 19, 2002 2:40 pm

ack, DP
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Postby wisteria » Wed Jun 19, 2002 7:44 pm

<i>If it wasn't one thing it was another and Wiste couldn't get computer time. There was her boss at work, making that announcement about unauthorized computer use, then at home the grass needed to be mowed, her son had had a baseball game, the laundry was piling up and her children were demanding that they get fed at least once a day!<BR><BR>AUGH! And she still hadn't figured out what was happening at TORC.<BR><BR>So, with some trepadation, she logged in -- the Welcome screen was it's normal self and she relaxed a little. She accessed the Pony.</i><BR><BR><b>Forum Error<BR>Error resolving parameter GETTHREADS.I_RATING_FUNNY</b><BR><BR><i>What was this? Where was the Pony? Funny? Was this a joke?<BR><BR>A thought occured to her and it was as if ThreadStalker's hand had grabbed her in the gut and wrenched. Had Jon and Ted followed through on their threats and closed the Pony completely? She would never find out what happened to her friends this way!<BR><BR>Quickly she hit the back button and tried Guilds and Alliances. They still worked. What about the One Ring? There might be something there about the missing forum.</i><BR><BR>There it is!<BR><BR><b>New Feature: Rate a Post</b> by Ted. I knew he was behind this!<BR><BR><i>She read through Ted's post -- but it seemed to be offering more goodies, and it said nothing about the closing of the Pony. She opened a new window and tried the Pony again. <BR><BR>Still nothing. She sighed and went back to Ted's thread, reading all the posts in it this time. There it was -- the new features were interfering with some of the Forums. Looked like "Movies" and "Talk" were also being affected. Was this a coverup on the part of the owners? Or a real technical glitch in the new programming? <BR><BR>She sat back at her computer desk and chewed her lip. She didn't even know if Scribbles, et al, found the red door. Had her plan to write in a way out even worked? She had figured they'd find everyone in the dungeon, then head for the door -- but at the moment, she had no way of knowing what was happening.</i><BR><BR><BR>edited for grammatical error!
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Postby SilverScribe » Wed Jun 19, 2002 8:27 pm

<i> They all agreed with lalatiel that a newbie probably wouldn’t last long in the dungeons. But they all had somewhat different ideas about where the dungeons actually were and how to get out. As the discussion wound down, Bardhywn turned to Scribbles. </i><BR><BR>“Well, what do you say friend. Before we go haring off, care to make me a true TORCer?”<BR><BR><i> Scribbles grinned. </i> “Well, I can try,”<i> she replied, then shut her eyes. She imagined the description of Bardhywn, Bowmaker and Archer of Dale, then repeated the spell she had used for Leoba. Opening her eyes, she saw Bardhywn unchanged and the rest looking at her expectantly. </i><BR><BR>“What’s wrong?” <i> Leoba asked softly.</i> “It worked before. Oh! H, take off your shoes and give them to Scribbles! She used my shoes, maybe that’s it!”<BR><BR><i> Bardhwyn grinned and took off her shoes and handed them over. Scribbles shut her eyes and tried again. But the shoes remained in her hands, and stubbornly remained shoes. Flushing with frustration and embarrassment, she shrugged and handed the shoes back. </i><BR><BR>“Maybe it was just a fluke before? Maybe I’m not really enough like my TORC character after all . . . I wonder . . .” <i> She put both hands under her hair and as she touched her ears, her eyes went wide. They were indeed slightly pointed, exactly like those of a Peredhil would be. Suddenly, she thought of something else and turning away, reached down the shirt she wore under her tunic. Her fingers found the fine mithril chain and the two objects strung on it. She swallowed then turned back to the others.</i><BR><BR>“Let’s try this again, shall we?” <i> she said. Placing one hand over the front of her tunic, she closed her eyes again and murmured the spell again, with a slight variation. She felt a tingling under her fingers, the others saw a soft white glow leak from under her fingers. She heard a gasp and opened her eyes.<BR><BR>Bardhwyn of Dale, in all her TORC finery, stood beside them, minus any weaponry, of course. Scribbles chuckled.</i><BR><BR>“Well, the only other thing I couldn’t manage was the scar. Sorry about that! Now, as we agreed, we have to find that newbie before the Mods come looking and see we are not where they dropped us. Everyone keep a sharp eye out for anything that looks like a store room, or a pile of packs or weapons. And anything that may look like outside help, I’m pretty sure Wisteria is trying some computer cleverness of her own. C’mon.”<BR><BR>
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Postby Lindonbayne » Thu Jun 20, 2002 12:41 pm

<i>Lindon followed Brilta up the stairs, not nowing what surprised her more; what she had just seen, or the fact that neither of their feet made any sound on the cold stone steps, or that they were not yet out of breath. Lindon made out three very familiar silouettes, in the distance. She almost by chance, glanced at her hand, and realised that the ring of Eldulasel was upon her finger, and was behaving very strangly indeed. It seemed it was trying to turn black, and green, at the same time, resulting in a swirl of the two colours.</i><BR><BR>there are friends, as well as enemies nearby, <i>Lindon said, softly, not knowing which lie at the top of the stairs.</i>
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Postby lalatiel » Thu Jun 20, 2002 7:15 pm

Gee, how many people do you figure are down here? <i>Lalatiel asked no one in particular.</i> I wonder if it's everyone, or just RP'ers. And hey, what way did we decide we were going?<BR> <i>No one seemed to be listening, so Lal started humming some strains of an Elvish song, parts of it Elvish poems she had made up, and parts of it from who-knew-where. It seemed that their weapons, which they all missed sorely, had been replaced with a natural knowledge of Elvish ways. Weird...</i>
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Postby Bardhwyn » Fri Jun 21, 2002 9:13 am

<i>HJ, or is she Bardhwyn?, rubbed her hand down the left side of her face. It was true, no scar. She felt the left side of her nose and the petit nose stud was still there, as were her pierced ears. She chuckled to herself… ‘Bardhwyn with a pierced nose and ears, that ought to infuriate the Tolkien purists.’ <BR><BR>She looked down at the worn green tunic over the chain mail, which was heavier on than she thought it would be, and smoothed it out. Under her shirt she felt the locket her character had been given by Ani-La. HJ, no Bardhwyn, pressed it against her chest and she felt a warmth and pleasantness surge throughout her entire body. She let out a slight gasp that was missed by her companions. HJ knew what was in the locket, of course… she’d created it but she had no idea how it would feel. It was extraordinary and almost too blissful. Bardhwyn then looked at her hand, there was the ring, jet black yet sparkling and at her waist was tied a leather pouch containing her character's.. no her mementoes. <BR><BR>Bardhwyn fell back against the cool stone of the corridor wall and allowed the words of Lalatiel to ring in her ears… “Gee, how many people do you figure are down here?….And hey, what way did we decide we were going?”</i><BR><BR>“No, wait, please.. I’m feeling very strange and there is something I must tell you… about Jon and Ted….”<i>Bardhwyn stopped suddenly and listened attentively to the Elvish tune sung by Lalatiel. She recognized it! </i> “I know that tune… I studied that song while in Mirkwood, when I was a teenager! No, that’s a story - how is it I know that song? I don’t know Elvish. Or do I?” <i>Bardhwyn’s words rose with a slight panic and Scribbles, responding, placed a calming hand on her arm.</i><BR><BR>“HJ, Bardy…we’re both our characters and ourselves. We’re… SHHhh! ” <i>Scribbles stopped and she, Lalatiel and Elenath all looked off into the long dark distance of the corridor.</i><BR><BR>“Someone’s coming.”<i>Whispered Elenath.</i><BR><BR>“What? I don’t hear anything.”<i>Whispered Bardhwyn. Leoba nodded in agreement wearing a puzzled expression.</i><BR><BR>“You wouldn’t, you have human ears. We’re Elves.” <i>Lalatiel replied.</i> “Two walkers, I think.”<BR><BR>“Light footed.”<i>Elenath added.</i><BR><BR>“Two Elves.” <i>Scribbles concluded.</i> “They’re walking tentatively – stopping and starting. Betcha they’re escapees, like ourselves.”<BR><BR>“And if they’re not?”<i>asked Leoba, now looking worried,</i> “We’re defenseless!”<BR><BR>“Not entirely, Leoba, we have our fists.” <i>Bardhwyn replied, startling herself - she, the woman who saves spiders from bathtubs! ‘No, that’s HJ.’ She thought. Momentarily confused, Bardhwyn shook her head in efforts to clear it and frightening thought took her….</i><BR><BR>“Are we in danger of losing our identity completely – into our character’s? Has anyone thought of that?” <i>Bardhwyn asked in a hoarse whisper.</i><BR><BR>“If those footsteps belong to Mods, we’ll have other things to think about!,” <i>Whispered Leoba.</i><BR><BR>“Bring ‘em on!” <i>Bardhwyn growled with clenched fists.</i> “I say we stay right here and wait for them! I am tired of being pushed around….”<BR><BR><i>A soft voice lilted towards them out of the gloom of corridor… </i>“Leoba? I heard the name Leoba.. of Gondor… are you there? Its Lindonbayne and Brilta... are you there?”
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Postby Cynara » Fri Jun 21, 2002 10:40 am

Sharon (Cynara) was now passing the time in her cell by knocking her skull softly on the stone wall, while her past and present selves looked at her. Some looked shocked, others angry or resigned. Her brain amused itself by going over passages of books she had read. Her head had taken on a slightly echo sound, and her eyes had gone blankish. Slowly, Sharon was realizing that there was really no way out of her predicament.
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Postby Lindonbayne » Fri Jun 21, 2002 11:32 am

<i>Lindon heard the voices belonging to the shadows, ahead. They were alot closer now.</i><BR><BR>Leoba? I heard the name Leoba.. of Gondor… are you there? Its Lindonbayne and Brilta... are you there? <i>Lindon tried to whisper, but feared they would not hear.</i><BR><BR><i>She ran as fast as she could, up the steps, with Brilta in tow. As her eyes adjusted to the light, at last, she knew that they were friends rather than enemies. They were, however, very fuzzy. She put her hand up to her face, and discovered that she was still wearing her glasses, and that they were impairing her vision. On removing them, she imediately recognised Scribbles, Leoba, Bardhwyn and Lalatiel.</i><BR><BR>Hey guys! <i> She waved at them</i>
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