; ; Note: This AGT MSG source file Copyright (c) W.P. Kegelmeyer, 1988 ; MESSAGE 1 You have #VAR1# hits and #VAR6# spell points remaining. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 2 You are feeling vicious and mean. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 3 You are feeling surly and nasty. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 4 You are feeling oddly confused and spiritually unfocused. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 5 You are feeling spiritual and pure. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 6 JenLee has #VAR3# hits remaining. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 7 She is looking disturbingly arrogant and mean. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 8 She is looking irritable and short-tempered. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 9 She is looking somewhat uncertain and distracted. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 10 She is looking radiant with good will and spiritual power. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 11 That command is the last coherent thought that goes through your mind, for you find that the unpleasant, nasty thoughts well up and take over; you seem to have completely succumbed to evil. Eventually the Demon finds you and, congratulating himself for the successful array of temptations he set before you, tortures you for a thousand years before setting you up as a minor demon with a charter for tempting fallen clergy. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 12 Unfortunately, you don't have time to act on that command, for you are suddenly attacked from behind, completely by surprise. You turn to try to defend yourself, and you find that it is JenLee who is attacking you, her face twisted in an ugly, vicious snarl. You have no armor and no defense, and so she finishes you off quickly. Your last memory before you die is of JenLee thrusting her sword into your gut to eviscerate you. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 14 Suddenly, the Demon gives a hideous, spine-tingling cry, as its features twist with insane self-loathing. Before your horrified, fascinated eyes, he quite literally rips himself to pieces, spitting and stamping on each piece. His eyes are the first to go, ripped out by long fingernails. Then he pulls off his ears, his nose, and then in a frenzy of scratching and scraping, his entire face. He rips off one of his legs, opens a long wound in his chest, and then, one by one, yanks out his organs and pounds them to an oozing pulp, using his leg as a cudgel. Then the other leg is ripped off, and as the Demon's torso falls to the floor, it flays the skin off the legs and breaks the bone. The chest an empty sack, the torso simply lays on what remains of its back as its fists methodically reduce what's left of the head to flaccid skin and bone fragments. Finally, the two arms rip themselves free and in an ugly, horrid parody of an arm-wrestling match, flail at each other until they are nothing but useless bags of broken bones and hemorrhaging ichor. Eventually they lie still. The Demon seems to be dead, done in by his own, unfaceable, self-image. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 15 JenLee, deeply wounded, is unable to hold on any longer, and dies. Her last words are ones of regret that she won't be present to aid you in the rest of your quest. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 16 Diffidently, JenLee comments that no doubt you know best how to allocate your spell points, but she did want to be sure that you realize that she is badly wounded, and in need of curing. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 17 Alas, Tark, that last round seems to have been to much for you, and as you try to act you find yourself expiring, due to your deep and grievous wounds. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 18 Alas, Tark, you are wounded to the point where you are barely conscious, much less able to take concerted action. You are dimly aware of JenLee standing over you, stripping off her gauntlets, though matters quickly come clear when you find that a fourth of your hits have suddenly healed at Jenlee's touch. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 19 Alas, Tark, you are wounded to the point where you are barely conscious, much less able to take concerted action. You are dimly aware of JenLee standing over you, but you know that she has already used her cure for the day, and can be of no dramatic help. She attempts to apply basic first aid, but nonetheless you soon succumb to your wounds, and die. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 20 She is currently carrying the following: END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 21 Concentrating intently, you attempt to $VERB$ JenLee. Kneeling by her bedside, you push hard against her sleeping form, and find to your dismay that, after a brief moment of resistance, your hands pass *into* her! You draw back in a stunned surprise, one quickly followed by watching a transparent duplicate of JenLee emerge from her still sleeping body, knuckle the sleep out of her eyes, and then leap to her feet, becoming apparently completely solid and substantial in the process. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 22 JenLee is already awake; attempting to wake her even further is fruitless. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 23 $NAME$ is not present here to respond to your suggestion. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 24 JenLee gets the $NOUN$ and begins to carry it around. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 25 JenLee: "But you're carrying that yourself, Tark! You'll have to drop it before I can pick it up." END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 26 JenLee: "But there's no $NOUN$ here for me to get, Tark." She gives you a concerned look. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 27 JenLee gives it a shot, but eventually has to report that the $NOUN$ is not movable, and so she is incapable of moving it about. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 28 Alas, you can't conjure that spell unless you are carrying the proper manacord. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 29 Alas, you have insufficient spell points to conjure that spell. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 30 As you watch, wounds on JenLee's body miraculously knit themselves, and bruises and other marks likewise fade away. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 31 Alas, that spell does not seem to affect the $OBJECT$. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 32 A rush of warm healing energy courses through your body, originating at the spot at which you have placed your hand, healing wounds and mending bruises as it goes. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 33 JenLee stoically watches as fresh wounds open on her body, confident that there is a method to your madness. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 34 A rush of bruising, burning magical energy courses through you, raising ugly, gaping wounds wherever you touch yourself. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 35 Alas, that spell affects only living creatures, and so your spell points are wasted. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 36 You know that spell requires its target be present, and so you manage to stop yourself before you say the power word, and so conserve the spell points. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 37 Alas, on the Astral plane you can't attract enough of your Sponsor's attention to make an "away" possible unless you possess a powerful holy symbol. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 38 There's no $NOUN$ present to away, and so the blessed light from your holy cross spends itself, uselessly, on the far wall. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 39 A blast of pearly radiance streams forth from your blessed cross and envelopes the $NOUN$, but as it is not an undead, the light fades with no apparent effect. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 40 Summoning your Sponsors, you concentrate your will and focus Their influence into your blessed cross, which glows, shines, and then emits a beam of brilliant pearly light, one in which the very light of Heaven seems to boil. The $NOUN$ is enveloped by the holy radiance, and, to the distant song of orchestral angels (good visuals are much easier on the Astral Plane), is completely and totally obliterated. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 41 You already have a magic lantern present, and so you avoid the waste of spell points that conjuring another would entail. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 42 As you conjure, you become aware of a speck of golden light which hovers near the floor and begins to grow and grow, all the time surrounded by a thin veil of steam. As you say the powerword, a sudden thunderclap whips the steam away, revealing the sudden appearance of a lantern shedding a rich, golden light. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 43 Suddenly, and without ceremony, the light in your magic lantern extinguishes, and the lantern itself fades into insubstantiality a moment later. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 44 Unfortunately, as the spell description states, you can only cast this spell in a consecrated place or in the presence of a powerful holy object, and neither of those conditions currently hold. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 45 As you complete the spell of Blessing, your hands begin to glow white and blue. As you pronounce the final word of power, similarly colored beams shoot out from them and play over JenLee. When the lights die down, there is no obvious physical difference, but she looks happier, nobler, as if she has looked deep into herself and liked, on the whole, what she saw. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 46 As you complete the spell of Blessing, your hands begin to glow white and blue. As you pronounce the final word of power, similarly colored beams shoot out from them and play over Demon of Dark Delight as he recoils in horror. When the lights die down, there is no obvious physical difference, but he is wearing an expression of disgusted confusion that seems on the verge of becoming complete self-loathing. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 47 As you complete the spell of Blessing, your hands begin to glow white and blue. As you pronounce the final word of power, similarly colored beams shoot out from them and play over the silver cross. When the lights die down, you can see the cross itself has begun to glow with a soft, holy light, and its very presence seems to warm and comfort you. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 48 As you complete the spell of Blessing, your hands begin to glow white and blue. As you pronounce the final word of power, similarly colored beams shoot out from them and play over JenLee's sword. When the lights die down, you can see the sword has begin to throb faintly, in time with JenLee's heartbeat, and that it sheds a bright pearly radiance, sufficient to see by. It is clearly a blade blessed by the Sponsors. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 49 As you complete the spell of Blessing, your hands begin to glow white and blue. As you pronounce the final word of power, the radiance spreads from your hands and runs, quickly, up and down your entire body. Bathed in the holy radiance of the Sponsors, you can look at yourself and your acts dispassionately, separating the good from the bad, and with Their support you can resolve to lead a better, cleaner life in the future. You eventually come out of trance feeling shaken, but purged and spiritually renewed. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 50 You know from its spell description that this spell works only on sentient creatures, and so you don't cast it, to avoid the waste of spell points. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 51 As you utter the power word of the spell, a stream of black radiance emits from your outstretched palm and strikes your target in its head. Immediately the facial expression becomes one of vacant friendliness, and you are now sure that any suggestion you might make will be acted upon, if possible. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 52 With a rueful smile, Jeff begins to fade away, as the duration of his summoning ends. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 53 With a surprised grunt, Loam begins to fade away, as the duration of his summoning ends. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 54 With a triumphant laugh, the Demon begins to fade away, as the summoning comes to an end. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 55 It's senseless to try to summon something which is already present, and so you forebear. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 56 With a rumbling groan, the ground crumbles and suddenly begins to spit dirt and rock into the air, like a flowing fountain. Gradually the fountain of dirt congeals and takes shape; it is Loam, the earth elemental. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 57 You complete the spell, and nothing at all happens, you don't even use up the requisite spell points. An incorrect name? An inappropriate target? END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 58 As you complete the spell of Blessing, your hands begin to glow white and blue. As you pronounce the final word of power, similarly colored beams shoot out from them and play over the spring water. When the lights die down, you can see at a glance that the water has become blessed and holy. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 59 In a sudden frenzy, the air about you begins to blow and boil, whipping your hair and cloak about. The turbulence slowly settles into a whirlpool pattern that coils upon itself, tighter and tighter, until it suddenly coalesces into the form of your friend, Jeff the genii. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 60 As you chant the spell, a tiny point of black light forms and then begins to grow. It resembles a large mass of black linen, clinging creepily to some horrid object thrashing at its center. The mass grows and grows until, with your word of power, it suddenly resolves itself into the shape of a tall human, in evening dress, who radiates an evil and a malice so strong that you experience it as a physical bludgeoning. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 61 With a dying whine, the magical energy you had built up (and in which you had invested your spell points) dies up and uselessly dissipates. You must have the name wrong. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 62 Jeff: "I'm sorry Tark, but my abilities are strongly constrained on the Astral Plane. Unless I am in the Astral equivalent of open air, I can be no help to you." END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 63 Sensing your intent, Jeff transforms himself completely into a whirlpool of air and transports you, undisturbed and calm at its eye, to the south bank of the valley of the grue. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 64 Sensing your intent, Jeff transforms himself completely into a whirlpool of air and transports you, undisturbed and calm at its eye, to the north bank of the Valley of the Grue. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 65 In a confused mixture of game and meta-level communication, Jeff asks whether you want to go to the north (0) or south (1) bank of the Valley of the Grue? END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 66 The burning, acidic stink of the oliephant's nest fills your mouth and lungs. It is so poisonously noxious that you take damage simply from breathing it. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 67 In a hideous rush of wings and limbs, you are attacked by the oliephant. Luckily the poisonous gas, straight from its source, kills you instantaneously, and so you don't survive to experience being webbed down and then rent, limb from limb, by the creature's claws and tentacles. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 68 Suddenly, your blood freezes to hear ponderous, squishy movement far overhead. Simultaneously, the sickly sweet smell intensifies almost beyond your ability to bear it. It's clear --- the oliephant is returning to its nest. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 69 The baby, with a pathetic scream of pain and anguish, is skewered by the sword and, choking on the fountain of blood that erupts from its mouth, dies. It slides off the end of the sword onto the hard ground, breaking most of its limbs, including the thighs. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 70 The dagger is plunged into the throat of the baby, silencing its final, heart-rending sobs and screams. Gruesomely, the dagger seems to somehow suck up or absorb the baby's skin and flesh, as after a few moments in which the sole event is a constant slurping noise, the only thing left is a perfectly preserved baby skeleton. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 71 As if in sympathy, and in revulsion for the act it was forced to commit, the sword first loses its holy light and then breaks, becoming useless. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 72 The baby begins to scream in pain and incomprehension as it is messily beaten to death, a process that breaks all its bones and reduces it to a bloody, useless pulp. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 73 You're going to need specialized tools to $VERB$ the $NOUN$, such as a lathe and a saw that can cut bone. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 74 $VERB$ the $NOUN$ out of what? You have to have the appropriate materials. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 75 Carefully separating the baby's skeleton to avoid damaging its bones, you use the machinery in the room to construct a pair of scissors made from the baby's thighs. The specialized tools make this rather straightforward and easy, despite your lack of experience. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 76 The baby isn't present to $VERB$, lucky for it. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 77 JenLee is distraught, confused, and upset by your command, but, audibly reassuring herself that you've never led her astray before, she follows your directions. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 79 Smiling and eager, the charmed cannibal roots around in his drawers and through his shelves until he finds a pair of cunning scissors, made from an infant's thighs. These he gives to you happily, and then he watches you eagerly, waiting for your next command. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 80 Abashed at his inability to aid you, the charmed cannibal haltingly explains that the two of you are not currently at his hut, where he keeps all of his stock, and so there's not a pair of scissors present that he can give you. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 81 Abashed and ashamed, the charmed cannibal tells you that the scissors he already gave you are the only pair he possesses, and so he doesn't have another to give you, though he certainly would, if only he could. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 82 The cannibal looks through his stock once again, and then tells you the bone scissors he already sold you were his only item of that type, and he hasn't another to spare. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 83 He backs away from you, baring his teeth. His guttural snarls are hard to follow, but the gist of them seem to be that he claims to be an honest craftsman who sells his wares for honest gold. If you aren't willing and ready to pay for what you want, you can only be a thief, and he warns you that the dungeons around here are most unpleasant. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 84 He takes your gold and, after weighing it briefly on a set of scales made (of course) from skin and bone, he pulls open a particular drawer and pulls out exactly what you need, a pair of tiny scissors constructed from the thigh bones of an infant human. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 85 JenLee, gritting her teeth and using as light a stroke as she can manage, cuts you slightly with the edge of her sword. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 86 JenLee draws the dagger lightly across your skin, trying to inflict just enough of a wound to draw blood. The dagger, though, leaps and twists in her hand like a live thing, and wounds you deeply. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 87 JenLee: "What would you like me to $VERB$ you with, Tark?" END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 88 JenLee, concentrating carefully and using as light a stroke as she can manage, cuts herself slightly with the edge of her sword. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 89 JenLee draws the dagger lightly across her skin, trying to inflict just enough of a wound to draw blood. The dagger, though, leaps and twists in her hand like a live thing, and wounds her deeply. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 90 Bumbling about with the unfamiliar weapon, you $VERB$ yourself somewhat more deeply than you intended. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 91 You draw the dagger lightly across your skin, trying to inflict just enough of a wound to draw blood. The dagger, though, leaps and twists in your hand like a live thing, and wounds you deeply. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 92 And what do you want to $VERB$ with? END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 93 Bumbling about with the unfamiliar weapon, you $VERB$ JenLee somewhat more deeply than you intended. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 94 You draw the dagger lightly across her skin, trying to inflict just enough of a wound to draw blood. The dagger, though, leaps and twists in your hand like a live thing, and wounds JenLee deeply. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 95 Though a wound has been successfully opened, only a couple of drops of blood spill out, not enough to form a usable puddle. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 96 Blood pours from the newly opened wound and forms a pool of blood on the ground. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 97 JenLee: "I'm sorry, Tark, but I've already used my cure for the day." END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 98 JenLee pulls off her gauntlets with alacrity and lays her hands on your exposed skin. Warm, healing energies rush into you, knitting your wounds, and once again you feel that deep, spiritual bound with JenLee that this ritual underscores for both of you. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 99 JenLee: "Tark, I can't help but notice that you are grievously injured. Don't you think you should arrange to be healed?" END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 100 Once the dust clears, you can see that the prisoner's clothes and shoes were left behind, untouched by the holy conflagration. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 101 Suddenly a grue rushes from behind a rock, and with fangs bared and claws held at the ready, confronts you. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 102 From your outstretched hand comes a grey light which showers the $OBJECT$. Fatal wounds immediately open all over the $OBJECT$'s body, and it promptly dies, gushing blood in all directions. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 103 Sensing your intentions, the grue takes the initiative and attacks, raking you with its powerful claws. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 104 The $OBJECT$ stands still, mutely unresisting, as it is attacked. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 105 You bumble around unsuccessfully with the $OBJECT$, but being no good with edged weapons, you are unable to bring it usefully to bear in this melee. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 106 You pummel the $NOUN$ with your fists, without apparent effect. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 107 Sensing her intentions, the grue takes the initiative and attacks JenLee, raking her with its powerful claws. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 108 JenLee leaps to the attack, but her sword bounces ineffectually off of the grue's tough and resilient hide. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 109 JenLee leaps to the attack with her blessed sword. The $NOUN$ attempts to defend, but the sword strikes deep into its heart, killing it utterly. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 110 JenLee attacks with the sacrificial dagger. She strikes only once, near the heart, but that is apparently enough, as suddenly all of the $NOUN$'s blood and skin is absorbed, with a stomach-turning slurping noise, into the dagger. The $NOUN$ is dead. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 111 JenLee: "What $NOUN$, Tark, should I be attacking? I don't see one here." END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 112 JenLee gamely attacks the $NOUN$ with her firsts, without apparent effect. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 113 JenLee: "But Tark, I'm not carrying the $NOUN$. How can I drop it?" END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 114 At your request, JenLee drops the $NOUN$ on the floor. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 115 Unfortunately, you haven't the faintest idea how to $VERB$ a $NOUN$. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 116 Alas, but you don't have the proper materials to $VERB$ a $NOUN$. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 117 Following the directions you read earlier, and overcoming your distaste at handling the noxious demonic ichor, you trace out the pentagram on the floor. Standing carefully in the center, you rub a mixture of your blood and spit into each corner of the inner pentagon, and then chant the activation formula. Slowly the ichor begins to burn off and be replaced by some clear mineral substance which glows with a pleasant bluish light. This continues until all of ichor is gone and the pentagram is complete. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 119 You can't $VERB$ a $NOUN$ unless one is present. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 120 You need to have some water available if you want to $VERB$ a $NOUN$. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 121 You scrub at the altar some more, but it doesn't get any cleaner than it was previously. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 122 The altar is crusted with many coatings of dirt, excrement and graffiti; in addition to water, you're going to need something to scrub with if you want to have any chance of returning the altar to its original form. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 123 Scrubbing furiously, and encouraged by the way the altar itself seems to repel the dirt and grime, sloughing it off, once you've begun to loosen it, you quickly remove the worst of the graffiti and excrement. Starting again, you then work to completely polish and clean the altar, and are rewarded by the gradual revealing of the altar's original decorations and carvings, and by a growing sense of inner peace. As you scrub away the last fleck of grime, the altar suddenly begins to flood the room with a sense of holy presence, its spiritual powers apparently undiminished by its long desecration. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 124 You $VERB$ the $NOUN$, which now gleams and shines. This used up all the water you were carrying, however. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 125 JenLee: "But there's no $NOUN$ present to attack, Tark." She gives a puzzled, and somewhat concerned, look. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 126 JenLee: "I don't have a $OBJECT$, Tark, but I'll try attacking it with my fists." END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 127 Loam, reacting instantly to first word of your command, picks you up, tucks you under one arm, turns the floor to mud and dives in. His enthusiasm is commendable, but unfortunately, fatal as well, as your body is reduced to a bloody, pummeled pulp at about the same time you lungs fill up with thick mud. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 128 Loam, reacting instantly, turns JenLee to stone and picks her up. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 129 Loam turns you to stone and picks you up, wielding you like a club. He then proceeds to beat the hell out of the $NOUN$, as you directed. If there aren't any $NOUN$s around, he tears around in a mad frenzy looking for one, bludgeoning it (and anything else that seems similar) to a bloody pulp. Eventually he gets distracted by an odd vein of stone in a wall and forgets what he was about, and so just leaves you lying in a random hallway. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 130 JenLee was discarded, still stoned, at the same spot you are, though you can just barely see her out of the corner of your eyes. Suddenly a shadow looms over both of you, and you somehow know it belongs to the Demon of Dark Desire. With a slow, contemplative smile, he de-stones JenLee. She immediately stands over your body and draws her sword, but with a hand gesture and a twist of his lip he Charms her, enslaving her soul. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 131 As you lie there, raging with frustration, the Demon of Dark Desire comes and stands over you. Concentrating intently, he reaches a hand *into* your stoned body, and you mentally convulse in unbelievable, immobile, pain as he withdraws it, bringing with it a handful of fine, gossamer strands of some unknown substance. These he lifts to his mouth and begins to eat, and as fresh, unimaginable, horrific pain courses through you, you understand that he is eating your soul. You silently scream a plea for aid, to your Sponsors, to Tiana, anyone --- and it seems that your plea is heard and answered, for you promptly die, though not without suffering some spiritual effects from the damage the Demon was able to inflict before you were spirited away. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 132 Loam gapes at you stupidly and scratches in the general vicinity of what might pass for an armpit. He clearly doesn't understand your request. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 133 The prisoner crowds you closely and, turning the full weight of his considerable charisma upon you, asks for a kiss. "Please, my lovely benefactress, I have been so long without a woman's comforts, it would do much to sustain me in my long, perilous trip back to my homeland. You are an enemy of the Demon of Dark Delights, and I know his True Name; I will tell you, if only you will kiss me. Assuredly a reasonable price, no?" END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 134 The prisoner, annoyed and frustrated by your delays, suddenly bares long, sharp fangs and, with his cape flapping behind him, attacks, doing grievous damage. His strength is uncanny, especially remarkable in one so long confined. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 135 The prisoner musters his reserves of dignity and calmly requests that you free him. "My lady! You are not one of the Demon's minions, and so you must be his enemy, as am I. I can help you against him, if only you release me from this durance vile." END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 136 The prisoner has already been freed; you cannot free him again. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 137 Bending over, you brace one foot against the wall and get a firm grip on the silver chains. Tugging with all your strength, you rip them out of the wall. Similarly, you twist and turn the manacles themselves until you rip them asunder, freeing the prisoner completely. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 138 The prisoner is already completed restrained; how could you lock him up any further? END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 139 The prisoner dodges nimbly away from your attempts to rebind him into the silver manacles. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 140 The charmed prisoner docilely sits against the wall and allows you to bend the manacles around his hands. The touch of the silver startles him, however, and you feel yourself losing the charmed control just as you finish binding him. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 141 You bend to $VERB$ the prisoner, but he turns his head away demurely. "I will gladly kiss you, my lady, but only as a free man. Though I certainly hunger for your sweet lips, anything else would be a dishonor to my forebears, and to my house." END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 142 You move to kiss him, and he sweeps you into his arms and begins to kiss you with an avidity that frightens you. You struggle to escape, as he is beginning to bruise you, but the prisoner is stronger than he looked, and holds you fast. Suddenly, he breaks off the kiss, but only long enough to grab the neck of your robe and rip it open, leaving you bare from breast to ear. Then, holding you almost tenderly immobile, he pulls back his lips to reveal a vampire's fangs, and sinks them deep into your neck. As your life's blood pumps into him, you fall into an almost orgasmic swoon, and are soon supported only by his arms. As you fade into unconsciousness, you hear the vampire say "Hear me, my lady, for I keep my promises, though in my own way. The Demon's name is ...", and you hear no more. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 143 The charmed prisoner takes you in his arms and kisses you, enthusiastically and well. Between your weak-kneed response to his evident skill and your own self-loathing at resorting to such a cheap thrill, the fact that there is something distinctly odd about the geometry of the kiss registers only distantly on your consciousness. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 144 Prisoner: "I'll give you anything you want, anything I have, if only you release me." END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 145 Prisoner: "Yes, yes, my lady, I'll give you all if you would but favor me with a single, simple kiss." END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 146 With a dopey smile, he sits suddenly on the floor and takes off his shoes, which prove to be wooden platforms with incredibly thick soles. Reaching around inside of them, he opens them to reveal that both soles are hollow. Standing again, he upturns the shoes to pour gold and jewelry into your outstretched hands. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 147 With a faint "bamf", a magin pops suddenly into the room and, before you can react, steals all of your manacords and teleports away again, leaving behind only a thin dusting of rich earth. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 148 With a faint "bamf", a magin pops suddenly into the room. It quickly realizes that you have no manacords, and so it teleports away again, clearly disappointed. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 149 Whoops! You try to take some action and find, to your dismay, that your body falls apart as you do so. The resurrection seems to have been unsuccessful; there's only so often an Astral Image can be patched back together, you know. Alas, your Image is now completely dissolved, and you are sent back to Prime where you wake in your bed, shaking, knowing that your mission was a failure. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 150 Your spirituality level is #VAR2# out of a possible 100. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 151 JenLee's spirituality level is #VAR4# out of a possible 100. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 152 With a soft trill of delighted freedom, the immaculate dove, the Soul Song, launches itself from your shoulder into the Astral Plane. You watch it fly, and as it goes it seems to grow, and stretch, and grow, and stretch, until it as huge as the observable universe and as thin as gossamer. Eventually it seems to dissipate altogether, spreading itself through the Astral Plane, the place of dreams and hopes. Looking down, you see yourself beginning to dissolve as well. You soon will wake in your own bed, the events of this night a confused and unrecollectable jumble --- but still, throughout the rest of your life, especially when things seem darkest and most bleak, a dove's liquid liquid trilling will come to you and speak of hope, and you will be comforted. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 153 The Demon of Dark Delights rants and raves at the edge of your pentagram, but is unable either to attack you or to escape your summons. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 154 With a twist of his hand and a single Word of evil might, the Demon seduces JenLee and places her soul in bondage. Her face immediately becomes twisted in an ugly, vicious snarl, and standing to the Demon's side, she begs for the chance to spit you on her sword. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 155 With a single arcane gesture, the Demon magically arrests your movement, making you helpless. As you stand there, raging with frustration, the Demon of Dark Desire comes and considers you. Concentrating intently, he reaches a hand *into* your body, and you mentally convulse in unbelievable, immobile, pain as he withdraws it, bringing with it a handful of fine, gossamer strands of some unknown substance. These he lifts to his mouth and begins to eat, and as fresh, unimaginable, horrific pain courses through you, you understand that he is eating your soul. You silently scream a plea for aid, to your Sponsors, to Tiana, anyone --- and it seems that your plea is heard and answered, for you promptly die, though not without suffering some spiritual effects from the damage the Demon was able to inflict before you were spirited away. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 156 You find yourself on the Elemental Plane of Earth. You are almost crushed by the sudden rush of rock and soil, but just as quickly Loam clears an open space where you can move about and breathe. He dances about in obvious joy at being brought home, and continually hugs and kisses you in his joy. Finally, he tells you that he is grateful and always will be, and that you are welcome to return to the Earth Plane whenever you wish, for he will be your joyful host. And with that he dives into the floor and is gone. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 157 You enter the sink hole and are immediately dragged under by a powerful current of soil and earth. You close your eyes and mouth against the rush of dirt, but are so disoriented by your tumbling passage that you have no idea which way to try to dig in order to escape. The need to breathe mounts and mounts, while at the same time the pressure on your body of the earth and rocks around you is becoming unbearable. In a small blessing, you pass out before you can discover whether you are going to die from suffocation or crushing. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 158 The earth around you, crawling and creeping in an almost sentient fashion, leaves air pockets for your mouth and nose, so that you may breathe. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 159 The cannibal examines your jewelry, gnawing on it speculatively, and then hands it all back to you, apparently uninterested. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 160 You approach the east archway, when suddenly a voice booms out, saying: There is one who Sleeps within a Stone, Yet seeks a frame of Flesh and Bone. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 161 There is one whose Eyes ne'er closed on Light In his plans a Sword burned Bright. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 162 There is one who seeks to pass a Wall Which is Nothing thick and Nothing tall. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 163 There is no reply, but the sparking lights within the passageway suddenly flare up and fill the Demon's chamber with bolts of electricity. You are riddled by sparks and shocks, and take a goodly amount of damage. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 164 With that, the streaky light barrier on the east archway fizzles, sparks, and then fades away entirely. You hurry through, before the ward can reform itself. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 165 Jeff: "I'm sorry Tark, but for complicated reasons, I'm unable to $VERB$ on the Astral Plane, at least at present." END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 166 You can't attempt to summon the Demon of Dark Delights unless you know his name, and there's no way you could have, so far. Lucky guesses (and experience in prior, similar dreams) does not count. END_MESSAGE MESSAGE 167 Meta-comment: Sorry, $NAME$ can't do what you're suggesting. Regrets, The DM END_MESSAGE