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Library: Death, Clad in Black


Author: merja
Date:Apr 19 2006

Why do hobbits have to be fucking merry? Why smile? Why help the newbies that
I meet?
The Hobbit Whore has a shriveled, black heart  it is an awful lot like a
lifetime smoker's lung, or the cirrhosis of an alcoholic's liver. Her pupilous
eyes are white and blind. You see tears running down her cheeks, but there is
no heart left inside. She is not crying, she is dying. Turning into a hard,
tight mummy.
You receive a cookie from the gods!
---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ----------
O Death, Clad in Black!
I died of a heart attack.
You collect my corpse, time after time...
Wield Mordac's Keyboard! Death is sublime!

      ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ----------
And so the journey continues, this time with an Ogre mage.
In the search, she visited the Abandoned Valley. To find that there are ways
into the towers, but she could not find the equipment, nor the physical form
of the voice, nor his name. Being stuck she killed a bunch of monsters and
left to find something else to research. Also, by the by, she did not fit in
the crack. Oddly enough, neither did the salmon.
This time she was excavating at the dump and fell down from the planking. "The
Bigger they are The Harder they Fall."
 .----------------------------------------.  |Nefaniel the last priestess of
Alainniel|  |             A true martyr              |  |          Died for
her people           |  '----------------------------------------'
Climbing amongs the great mountains, I'll probably fall and break my neck
again. But for the moment I've found a beautiful old idol of elven origin,
with a hole in its breast. I smell loot.
In the Valley of Silence I found the queen, and someone had already unlocked
the basement but I could not get through because there was an elite guard
blocking whatever lay beyond. Perhaps it is for my own protection though, as
the queen mentioned some horrible slimey creatures.. the mages quest was also
And the next which we found, was Lanzia's Quest. My good friend, the noble
Elven merchant, Hyrmy, and I the Ogre Magus, decided we would see what we
could see. We found that it was possible to complete the early stages of the
quest. Especially after enlisting the aid of a high level Giant. This giant
not only conquered our vast enemies, he also showed me the impossibility of
the task at hand. LQ 85. A merchant and a fanatic on a quest for god. Somehow
we did not expect to complete it, and it fell apart. Such a pity, that.
O, Death! Clad in Black! I want my money back!
You said the Drow Priest would get me the longed-for happiness. Scouging the
eyes of the Good and Blackening the backs of the poor. I steal everyone's
What happy heart of man or immortal evil has lain waste to a place without his
face? A nameless beast with no heart to spare. I wish my heart was as black as
my hair. Cut it and bald out on the Earth. Drow priest, evil gives birth, to
the evil evil mirth.
But it is a play and tomorrow and today. The same name is all I hate. Alone
and depraved, nothing reveres my name. I sigh, and again die.
O DEATH! Clad me in your Blackness! Make me the Darkest of your soul on this
night. Bring me an Eve, bring me to grieve. I need and would receive... but
instead you would heave..
...You would have me not succeed and have me fail to make headway into the
land of darkness. Selfish this pain that I regain from nothing gained. Souls
of the Dead pile at my feet. And I am bored by defeat. Where lies my happiness
now? Would that I were a cow.
Next is the best, reinc to a good eleven mage maiden. Merja you whore there
you are again. Why are you thre? Acid again? What are you thinking lass, when
you wiggle that elven ass? Be a mean Mama, kick the boys in the groin.
But Merja the Mage is out of her rage. SHe again is a lone, but at least knows
her home.
Let us see what develops from this little Elf Whelp.
Claden in Night, she became a Kitten Wight-Lord. Mewling as a lamb, she
struggled valiantly to escape from the knotted bag drowning helplessly into
the cold, laden Styx.
Death, be mine. Welcome, would I you, to the humble abode of Night. Sky solemn
above. Let me proclaim denied Love. Death, Clad in Black collects the corpse
of my foe. An ego-maniacal killer is on the road. Brain is squirming like a
toad. Vengeful to the Lover of Greedy Cheating Ukkeli. Were that his untruths
and uncaring were but lies. Swarthy grief will not bring an dishonest lout
anything. Each time my love Ukkeli dies, a part of my innocence too, lies idle
and stillborn.  And the newbies like Vince, would call upon a higher rat, I
mean cat like Sillma and the guild of Dawn+ who would throw a few spites to
save big bad Vince's life, oh, and his 600k of unsafe experience. Was there no
dirge for this loving lad, no chant about? The little one, decides to follow
the master. He suckles to my breast as he pretends to be the Lion, yet a
hobbit like him has more fun playing with himself inside his own little hole.
Death, clad in black. You warm my fur in hell. Pleases me, you do it so well.
Of true mastery, time can only tell.

          Will, lost in a sea of trouble,
          Rise, save yourself from the whirlpool  
          Of the enemies of willing.  
          Courage exposes ambushes.  
          Steadfastness destroys enemies.
          Keep your victories hidden.  
          Do not sulk over defeat.  
          Accept good.  Bend before evil.  
          Learn the rhythm which binds all men.
     Kitten worth 34m. Started with 17m. Not bad. I enjoy it immensely. Old
Age. Taking a look at reinc options, race, wolfman or catfolk. More catfolks
than pups.
          Expiration   SYLLABICATION: ex·pi·ra·tion NOUN: 3. Archaic Death.
De-illusioning the Dream.
Since I do not have the time to be verbose, impending Realm upheaval requires
some attentiveness, then this will be unfortunately brief. Or, if you like
most people, it will be rather fortunate.
>>evil smirk<<
     The changes in perception are most vividly reflected in the way the dream
is now seen. Whatever your occupation, you cannot help but face up to the gap
between your vision of yourself in youth and the actuality of your arrival in
the present.
                   Ornithorhynchus anatinus
   Probably a platypus would be filled with a sense of personal outrage if it
could hear us class it without ado or apology as a mammal and thus dispose of
it. "I am not such thing," it would say, and "I am myself, and myself alone."
 What causes opponents to come of their own accord is the prospect of gain.
What discourages opponents from coming is the prospect of harm. 
  Be extremely subtle, even to the point of formlessness. Be extremely
mysterious, even to the point of soundlessness. Thereby you can be the
director of the opponent's fate.