Sun 6 October 2009: It's been too long. But time is not my own. Those two or three that have followed or read these notes will be interested in the following:
Bug #1
Date Sent: Thu Jun 11 07:32:14 2009
From: jewels
Subject: object idea bug #51984 has been added to the rainy day file

Change status from OPEN to DENIED
This is a nice idea, and while we don't have the available developer time to implement it at the moment, it has been added to our rainy day file.

Thanks, and good luck!
Jewels

> Bug #51984 reported at Oct 10 17:54 2005
>
> Dear Power That Be,

Out of all the Warrior classes, the one least backed up by a number of NPCs (outside of it guild home) is the Klatchian Foreign Legion. There are no Legionnaire NPCs out in the desert, outside the walls of Djelibeybi, no where.

It would be nice to see some about - I mean, even the hunters have a good few of their own wondering NPCs!
Anyway, all the best,
Mr Woodpigeon.


Sat 15 December 2007: Range after range of sand dunes year after year after year. I am still in love with the desert. The lion for tea, the vulture's eye. When, prey tell, shall wanderers die?

Update: I saw my first mirage in the Ephebian desert. A beautiful dusky maiden holds out her arms, offering half a coconut shell filled with water. Maybe it is time to head to a city.

Sat 25 August 2007: Been a while. Been a long, long while. Um, um, um. How I have missed you all. I have been climbing. By Sek, I have missed you. A dear beloved friend of mine has got herself married while I was away. Good for her. I miss her, but good for her. I hope she knows I am her friend.

Wed 3 January 2007: So, written in ink on the small label upon the silver poketwatch is: Always and forever my companion on this journey. May this help you keep track of time when you're out in your beautiful deserts--and may you remember, by association, that I am here for you, for eternity. With undying love ...

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, and the fairest fade.

Update: Returned home today. I walked in silence through the sandy streets, the folk – labourers and masons - all whispering, following me around the streets, muttering of my wind-burned colour and of my unfathomable bizarre intent look. I thought to tell them of all I have seen over a glass of Kir. My feet are somnolent of rootlessness and I feel as if age comes on quickly now. I fain would dwell in Djelibeybi now, forever in my place. I now know that religion is the unrestrained lie of fleeting tenderness. This is all we have. So I left once more after a round of drinks, and headed back out across the lands.

Sat 30 December 2006: Only in schizophrenic Ankh Morpork could you have a conversation that starts with "You're amazing, you know. To have walked so for, seen so much." that ends with the layoff “I can't have you, Woody. we don't work.” I arrived back from the mountains a few days ago, and I have had a couple of experiences in that city that make me cringe, and now, I get dismissed. Can not say I remember the evil trolls being so dismissive. They seemed to rather like me, racing down the mountainside to crush my head and attempt to use me as a javelin. But, as always is the way, as I walked through the dawn streets of the stinking dump of AM, I ran through earlier relationships and remembered an engraved silver pocketwatch a beloved gave me so long ago. She said to me that I would be able to TM my Morporkian on it before understand what she had writ upon it. But forces conspired and she passed away. I have never been able to master the reading or writing of Morporkian. I will take this watch to the translators and have the message from Yesteryear given to me. I may even hear the sound of her voice.
It is akin to the tale a friend of mine told me earlier in the year. At age 16, she fell in love with a half-bald retarded weapon master. Through her constant efforts, the two of them started dating, even though her parents hated his brusque crudity, his eternally soiled fingernails, his struggling to eat and breathe at the same time and the fact that he couldn't read. After a tumultuous affair he broke up with her. Ever since, even as she has learned to make better choices, she has carried the tragicomic humiliation of having been dumped by a tight-fisted, illiterate weapon master.
Ankh Morpork – Built by bastards!

Sat 24 December 2006: Have finally come down from the Ramtops. Will return one day. Spending a few days over Hogswatch at Oolskunrahod, a small village lying in the shadows of the north Ramtops and surrounded by tall evergreen trees. Barbarians are camped a few miles to the east, stinking the forest out with their gas problems. I will pay a visit in a few days and pay my respects before heading home, many miles to the west.
And on that note, Merry Hogswatch, to each and every one of us.

Sat 16 December 2006: The Hub, the very centre of the Disc, rises skyward, covered in green glaciers. And floating way above in the clouds, I can just about make out the pillars and walls of Cori Celesti. While I am looking up, I fancy the Gods are gazing down at me, thinking, "Little shit." It is out of my reach, and maybe that is for the best.

Fri 15 December 2006: The higher up the mountains one travels, the more the landscape becomes dominated by sheer cliff faces, scree slopes and icy chasms. Sparse, stunted trees and plants cling tenaciously to the steep mountainsides, a few even attempting to bloom in the brief warmth of summer. Far below, the land spreads out like a blanket over the feet of the mountains, which continue to reach into the sky for hundreds of feet. A gently-flowing river is to the northwest and some falls are roaring loudly to the south and west. Very close to the southwest is the Smarl river and two hundred and fifty miles to the northeast rises the towering spire of the Hub.
The Hub. Heading towards the Hub, always towards the Hub.
Update: Finally. I have made Base Camp at the foot of the Hub. It is freezing cold, very windy and everywhere is covered in snow and ice. Cori Celesti hovers over me, and there is a strange otherwordly magnetic feel to the crackling air. I would like to thank a couple of people. Firstly Manji, who went out of his way (so he says) to buy me not only a new backpack and some fresh, dry clothes (so I now look like a pick-pocketing-climber) but also tucked in the pack a Klatchian tribal feast and a good, strong shot of Klatchian coffee! Now, that’s really sweet. Also, a pipe and some (drum roll please) a pouch of Ramtops tobacco. Oh, the wonderful humour of the crazy mugger. Also a hug of thanks to Mistress Aisling who delivered the pack. This was all possible due to the club FedHex. Make sure you refer this club if you’re in a tight spot and have need of a sword or two, or just can not be bothered to get off your arse or, if you are like me, clinging onto the side of a mountain. Because of those two, I am now dry and not cold. Nice change.

Sun 10 December 2006: When you alter the way you look at the world, the world you look at changes around you. What was once dangerous and wild, becomes safe and tame. And being able to remain on that dizzying crest of newfound lore… that is truth. It is the rest that is deception.
I have swam across the bottom of the Circle Sea in the pitch black bobbing darkness 50 rooms deep unaided; I have fought and slain lions, feasting on their heart and liver under the desert moon; I have scaled mountains to bathe in high altitude lakes just for the sheer joy of it; I have dashed to the centre of the Maze just to collect someone’s meagre belongings (never did get a thank you mention for that) (little bastard).
Now, I have embarked on what I consider to be my most dangerous trek, heading towards the Ice Fields far east of the Ramtops. Yetis, evil trolls, and the odd sharp-toothed, pursuing madness of the odd lynx or two, makes for a very interesting and busy journey, but when you are battling them in a landscape surrounded by four-hundred yard slopes down to a frozen doom, you are backed up. After trying to get around by the shortest route via what should have been a short, freezing swim, I discovered the sea frozen over, and needed to scale the mountains once again to begin the final stage of my trek.
Though through it all I felt like I was being watched over somehow, some form of guardian by my side. Nice feeling, and was a good excuse for me to talk out loud about what I was facing.
Hope to make it to the Ice Fields in a couple of days. I will probably find some form of hell there, located in the northern regions of some third heaven. That would make sense. While I am having expansive adventures in circumstances that resemble paradise, there'll also be a diabolical area nestled right in the midst of the beauty.
Update: A strong, biting wind sweeps snow in the air making it difficult to see any great distance. Waist-deep snow on the ground make passage difficult, and may mask a variety of potential hazards. Through the driving snow, dark shadows could be the highest peaks of the Ramtops above. Far below, where the landscape is far more sensible, villagers huddle close to their fireplaces and thank the gods they're not... well.. standing right here, actually.

Sat 9 December 2006: After having been injured in an ambush I have returned to my travels and am confident in controlling my rage. Any point of natural association that we scrutinize shows the ability for self-diagnosis, for removal of injured composition, and for renewal of new construction. I urge myself to keep this idea close to the front of my tortured mind. Opposing to what powers that be in many fields would lead me to believe, I have the native supremacy to figure out exactly how to fix my troubles, both the health-related variety and any others.
I am going to travel to the Southern-Western Ramtops and search for a large lake I have heard of. Many a shark is within this, but to get there I must transverse through mountains packed with yetis and evil trolls, and sleek little lynxes’.
Sounds like fun.

Sun 10 September 2006: I like a good mystery, and I like mudmail. But not when the two are combined. Received a strange message today. It was a piece of paper torn out from a notepad with the message my shadow lies upon you. I have no idea who sent this to me as it was sent anonymously via the parcel service. My shadow lies upon you. I know I have upset and wronged some people here. I also know I am not liked by some. But they would say something, and I just do not think it is their style to do this. It may just be a windup. Hope so.
Have not been out on my own much, been grouping a fair bit with noobs and olds alike. Korak has returned from the seabed, and we’ve been exploring the plains north of Gloomy Forest together. Apart from that, not much to report other than someone’s shadow lies upon me. I have let him lead on while I have been musing on the seductiveness of my hurt, and on all the unacknowledged reasons that maybe I am attracted to it and hesitate to give it up. Maybe I should simply feel my suffering. Don't judge it or repress it. Don't come up with reasons about how it's beneath me to feel it or how I should be over it by now or how I can't believe how I still let it have so much power over me. Let the pain ripple and flow. Allow it to break my heart apart. Give it room to wail its truths. Marvel at the fullness of the emotions it stirs. Then drink some kir.

Tues 5 September 2006: By one deed, and one deed alone, may I win a lighter punishment. By one deed, and the resignation of my titles, all my lands, and all my honors, may I merit to be spared to my work--which has only begun.

Thurs 1 September 2006: I have been a bad boy. Very bad. Got drunk and attacked a friend the other night. In a very bad way; I know there is no good way to attack a friend, but this was bad. Then I said something to her lover, that was damn out of order, while she was trying to step in. And then (yes, there is more), I got drunk some more and sent a Creator a couple of tramp heads, freshly cut off. Boy, am I in trouble now. Watch this space, as it may not be here for very long.

Tues 15 August 2006: A mate of mine and I parted a couple of days ago. Anger or bitterness toward those who have hurt you will block your path to higher ground. I believe in no feelings at all rather than bad feelings and we have come to a compromise. You can have anger toward people or you can have freedom from people, but you can't have both.

Mon 14 August 2006: The swim has taken place, and I spent many hours swimming the width and length of the Circle Sea and north of it too. Dreadfully deep in some places; getting to 12 rooms deep you would need a yellow stone ring to see around you. I could swim as deep as 20 rooms before my lungs told me to start heading back up. Speaking with the cartographer Boot, he informed me that at its deepest, the sea is an amazing 50 rooms deep!
Yesterday, back on dry land, I bumped into a noob, a wonderful chap by the name of Korak. He was on the verge of joining the Weapon Masters Court, before I informed him of the well documented facts that they defecate while at the table eating, and believe that rain and lightening fertilizes women. He is now a priest for Fish. Hope to travel with him soon, as he is learned and a little insane.
I was speaking with some fellow webpage writers earlier about events and logs on each others webpage. One idea I put forward was that none have a chronology of the individuals times. Such as Date 1: So-&-So leaves the Newbie Area and joins Witches Guild. I think this is a good way forward and will commence work on my own very soon. A lot has happened, and if I should pass away, there would be some facts and figures left behind, rather then this cryptic mess.

Thurs 10 August 2006: One of the watchmen says in Morporkian: Yoo, Woodpigeon Vandisarzio, are hereby sentenced to 3 hoors and 20 minutes of maximum security arrest for the murder of a city guerd, wearing the official badge of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch despite not being employed by aforementioned organisation, resisting arrest and forty instances of assaulting an officer of the Watch and disturbing him or her in the execution of his or her duty.
Bastards!

Tues 8 August 2006: It amazes me. No matter where you go, you always spot the piss-taking oldbie. How they forget that once they too were noobs. I witnessed one oldbie earlier today really sledging a noob, who was embroiled in an epic battle with a cockroach. The oldbie, blinded by his huge skills, scores and ego, was conveniently ignorant and forgetful to the training ground he once tread upon himself. Bastard!
For those wondering what I have been up to, I have basically been residing in my beloved deserts. Fighting lions and revisiting old haunts I know and love well. The solitude these spots provide is better than the arms of any beloved woman. That’s not a put down, just the way it is. My next adventure gives my blistered feet a rest. I am planning on swimming from Chirm up to Hayl. I have a loincloth I will wear, and nothing else for speed and decency. I may take my hunting knife, just in case. I will walk the road from Hayl to Al Ybi then southwest to Shish Kbab to Al Kali, north of my beloved Djelibeybi. There I will drink like an angel, and dance like the devil!
Oh, and for those interested, the noob beat the cockroach.

Mon 19 June 2006: When I go out by myself (as is the case nine times out of ten), and I look across the sand dunes, I think of all the things that have taken place of late and in my head I make a picture. Because, since I have returned, well my mind is a mess (again). I must have had a hundred fights since my return, trying to change day into night, making Sek pleased with me for once (Note to self: Stop beating on the druids. Sek loves them). All this violence, all this pain, it is all right.
It is the only way forward.
Bring it on.

Sun 18 June 2006: A small officious looking dwarf comes up to you, shows his lawyers guild licence and says, "Welcome to the single life, I would like to be the first to congratulate you on your new status."

Sat 17 June 2006: GlasRhosyn Somniac tells you: you were one of the first to have a portrait done by a now infamous artist. I’m not sure about infamous, but the perfect pairing of artist and creator has made a pleasent blend with the publication of Altvogge: Adventures Among the Sphers. You can check this out here.

Wed 14 June 2006: Not the greatest of comebacks. Away for fifty odd days or so, and already I am on the ropes. My lady friend has dumped me. Can not say I blame her so. I was back five minutes I harped on about becoming a desert tramp, sauntering and roving the deserts, asking for no charity and under no pretences. If I wanted to live a life like that I should have been born a filthy no-good D'Reg. I am already a desert tramp, only one that is a Legionnaire. I should be happy with my lot. Blah blah blah. Anyway, she has booted me and told me I am now free.
I was never so free as when I was with her.

Thur 20 April 2006: I never go questing or hunting with people as a rule, yet as most rules I decided to brake this today. I had a wonderful time with a small group of people, Wicked Mapan, RnDSZ and Odis Yoko Aruki. This came at about the right time, as I have been feeling lonely of late, and we went questing; very badly I must admit, what with RnDSZ getting into punch-ups and me smoking my pipe. I was chased by a watchman who noted I wear a badge of theirs, and Odis helped me beat this poor bugger to a pulp. It was a real feeling of companionship, if only for such a short while. Afterwards, I did not know what to do, and we left each other on Attic Street after a visit to Bois.

Sun 16 April 2006: It is official! You do not need to go PK to go PK! Look what happened yesterday:
Decrobe of the GWA slaps you.
You slap Decrobe of the GWA.
You give Decrobe of the GWA a deep and passionate knee to the groin, it seems to last forever.
Decrobe has died for the last time. He is mourned.

I was wondering why this fellow was such a prat and what the GWA was. Found out from a friend it is a group of slappers who claim to own South Morpork. For the most part, they are blowhards who work hard to make others angry. Only made me very happy, and I had a wonderful day. Much Kir was drunk and I burnt offerings in the desert, dancing in the ashes until the sun rose. This act is known as perfectionism. It is the knife of perfectionist attitude in life. You may call it getting it right or fixing it before you go any further. You may call it having standards. What you should be calling it is perfectionism. And remember sobriety is the enemy of originality in art.
Here endth the lesson.

Fri 14 April 2006: Miss Turrel asks in Morporkian: Woold yoo be interested in joining the Apex Club? Yes I was, and so I did! I had a nice look around the clubhouse, and experienced a satori, meaning a sudden awakening. Wonderful.

Sat 8 April 2006: I'm not in the least bit sorry about some of my actions over the past few months. There were some times when I cringed and thought Oh hell, no! at some memories. I am now at peace with scores of other past actions that lacked etiquette and goodness. According to my examination of the omens in the desert sky, it is a good time for everyone to celebrate the disgraceful, intense, unrestrained things you have done that caused no harm and raised the levels of fun in your part of the world. I shall now head to Ankh Morpork and burn it down, dance in its ashes and drink Kir through the night. I may even call in on my lady friend and tell her of my plans. She is a beauty!
An interesting and lonely poster calling him/herself Kaka has been leaving interesting messages in my guestbook. I have hidden them for private viewing, so in the hope that, not only do they clog up the book, but that once the boring story of Kaka can be told in full it will all somehow fall together and make some sort of sense. The first entry was I've just been staying at home waiting for something to happen. Whatever. Not much on my mind lately. I guess it doesn't bother me. The story expanded the next day to I've just been staying at home waiting for something to happen, but I don't care. Basically nothing seems worth thinking about. I can't be bothered with anything recently. The third and final part so far is [P]retty much nothing seems worth thinking about. My life's been completely dull , not that it matters. I've just been staying at home waiting for something to happen. Kaka, get out of the house, buy a camel, hunt some lions. You will feel better for it. All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveller is unaware.

Wed 5 April 2006: I think I may be addicted to brewed tea. While fighting desert lions, I find that after I have lashed out with a couple of specials, I step away, take a swig if I need to or no, and I rush back in. The classic. Have a drink and rush back in. Is there not a song about fools rushing in? What other drink can provide such glow, such as the nipples tingle pleasantly and the feeling of fuzziness radiates from your stomach? Just now, after a huge bloody beheading session against these rampant beasts of the sands, I knocked back two bottles in the middle of the desert, just for the hell of it. Sheer liquid wonderment in a medium sized pink bottle. The witch who has supplied me with these (unknowingly I will admit) has a lot to answer for!
Have I finally become undone, under the brutal sun?
Is it insanity to the tea, or tea to the insanity?

Tues 4 April 2006: While out in the Ephebian desert today I made a series of kills. These kills were rather special for me as they were desert lions, and I killed them off solo. Five in total. It is also the first time I have relied so heavily on tea. Thankfully the AM$40 I spent was well worth it. Can not remember the witch who did the brewing, but I picked this bottle up from The Illuminated Teapot on Welcome Soap, AM. Anyway, I dined on lion heart and kir in the evening, and at the moment I am sitting in the Oasis, smoking my pipe.
Apart from the slaying of lions, things are going well with my life here. I have a nice ladyfriend who does not threaten to drown herself every five minutes and can speak without dribbling, so all is well. She reminds of my old friend SusannahDean who was a good friend and support.
Still awaiting news from the Council in regards my request for support with more NPCs for the Legion. Not one of my fellow Legionnaires have come forward to back me up, but that is just as expected.

Wed 29 March 2006: Not often do I turn down a challenge, but I admit to you Dear Reader that I did so today. Such was the trial set before me; I shudder to even think of it. Pius of the Rain, the Connect 4 Champion of Djelibeybi, challenged me to a game of Connect 4. I am brave, but not that brave. But apart from that, the awards party held at the Council Gardens was a grand occasion, with red wine to be drunk and a few priests on hand to sober us up. I usually go crazy when drink is on offer, but as this was my first time as a citizen before my peers, I sipped my wine politely and chatted away with newfound acquaintances. The occasion was wonderfully organised by Dariana Womblesworth, drinks were provided by Mahamed, and the guests were Gwydion Gleams In Ebony, ToshiNama HikosaSan, Omg D'Omega, Dupre, Coffeebreak Alquantum and I.
Think I will spend some time in fair Djelibeybi, see the sights, drink some Kir, eat some figs.

Sun 26 March 2006: I finally have over 2,000 Hit Points. Took a while for me to figure it all out. You see, sometimes you will spend 40,000 xp on other.health and will see no change in your HPs. The xp goes on your bonus, then the next time you will see the level pop up. And so it goes on - level, bonus, level, bonus. It is a hard slog but worth it. Once your HPs are over 2,000 you find you now get the crap beaten out of you slowly and it really is wonderful. Must get back to my primaries.
I was recently in the bathing house within the cess pool know as Ankh Morpork washing away the grime of my travels, when I had my mace stolen. If you, the thief, are reading this, I hope you treat that honey with the respect it deserves. Anyway, I am now using a nice Klatchian steel sabre, and have recently discovered the art of beheading. There are many types, and I have supplied them here for your bloody benefit.
My portrait is finally up at Glasrhosyn's webpage. I was beginning to think she hated it, or me, or both. You can view it, and its nice frame, here. Also worth while having a browse through the other pages, as it is generally a nicely constructed site.

Mon 20 March 2006: Djelibeybi! Djelibeybi! Your skies are blue, and your sands are gold! How I love my home. Not sure if any of you have caught onto that. I have not been training any of my primaries of late, working on my ot.he. And it is slightly upsetting that considering I have walked from Chrim to the rainforests nw of J'Nub Avr, and then south all the way to Wanobe (not surrounded by a forest, surrounded by a bloody huge, wet rainforest; soaked for days) then across to Erehwon, not once have I TMd ot.di. Tonight I am camped out by a small settlement north of a large lake. Nice for fishing and smoking my pipe. Not much has come of my request to the Council. These things take time. Over the weeks I have heard that there are a few new legionnaires, and this is good. I will add them to the Legion page in time. For those interested in my travels and would like to see where some of these places are, please refer to Boot's home page. Clicking on the NWSUR, NESUR, SWSUR and SESUR links will provide you with the best maps you can find for walkabouts.

Tues 14 March 2006: This afternoon, a very hot spring prime afternoon, I am camped out in the shadow of the Haribos mountain range, in the south-western area of the Tsortean desert. Many desert lions prowling around out there. One of the blighters has a little toe of mine. Bastard! I am maybe 200 hundreds miles north of Liph-Loph, and out of water. But I have my pipe and a pouch of Grim's old blower, and that is something. I plan to head south towards Liph-Loph and the river that runs there to replenish my soul and flask. After that I plan to travel down to Wanobe, which I hear is surrounded by a dense jungle. Meet the locals, and if need be dance for my dinner.

Sun 12 March 2006: I have put forward my concerns to the Council:

Honourable Council,

The outskirts of our city needs a higher profile Klatchian Foreign Legion presence. You
cannot relay on the Djelian Guard more-so than the Legion. The Legion protects the
bounders of our city, and our interests out in the deserts.

As a member of not only the Legion, but also a proud citizen, I strongly suggest
something be done about this. Even in the putrid cesspit known as Ankh Morpork,
everywhere you go you are running into Palace Guards and so-called Weapon Masters.

I have travelled the deserts, slept in the jungles and wandered through the rainforests.
Not once have I come across a fellow Legionnaire.

I fear that if nothing is done about this, the filthy, stinking D'Regs will be smelling
blood in the sands.

Yours truly,
Mr Woodpigeon.


Now I wait, and hope ...

Sat 11 March 2006: "Come back to me. And if I can help, allow me to do so. Even if all I can do is help you keep your mind unburdened, I want to help." With words like that from a wonder of the female species how can I fail? Look, there has been some movement towards making the Legion a better subsidiary to the Warriors Guild. And it is this: It allows anyone who's currently got Djelian nationality the chance to choose one of the exotic new nationalities we've just added instead. That is it. You can choose between Ephebe, Istanzia, Tsort. and whatsit, place in Howondaland. I am not sure this is enough. One thing we need is a bigger presence in the NPC world. The only ones you find are the ones at HQ. I have decided to head back to Djelibeybi to try and ram some sense into their soft heads. And as I have fears about this mission, I decided to get a heads-up as to what I may be facing. You can find this out here.

Fri 10 March 2006: I must admit, as much as I have slated these seamstresses off, they are handy for a good old bang. I met my once so-called sister firstly therein, giving her one up her massive bum, and even the madam suggested I give her one over the bar of The Boot (there's a poem there I am sure!). I would rather fuck an ape. A rancid dying ape. Anyway, I met a lovely lady this morning who provided me with a wonderful clear-out! So, come around here noobs, if you have a spare AM3R and need a shag, spend it on a hooker! Log in and refer seamstresses! But stay away from the seamsters, as they drip every time they fart!!

Wed 15 February 2006: Who said broken pieces don't mend? I say to think again. You may take advice from all your friends; I say I'm living in your head. She said that its easier for men. I said we all feel the rain. Farewell, dear SusannahDean. She has had enough of the Disc and decided to visit the Garden of Reason. Life deals you a hand, play by the rules--you'll never come through.

Mon 13 February 2006: You have been granted citizenship of Klatch. Anyway, apart from that shit it is worth your while checking out this crazy fart-meat.

Sun 12 February 2006: Kitiara was arrested the other day for drug smuggling. While travelling wearing no knickers (as all seamstresses do), she fell over onto her amazon-like front, exposing 40 pounds of crack. Get it!

Sat 21 January 2006: Is it not a shame that not even the Creators can prevent scum like this from hacking into the MUD. Five or so days and there are already 14 files recently downloaded and added to the groups page with the claim that they have already been multi-playing!!! This really pisses me off; the players that just go about their business, be it number-chasing or role-playing, are the ones that will be punished in the long term. I bet you my bottom dollar that the files are some way to carry out their bastard scheme. Bastards!

Sun 4 December 2005: In Woody mudmail today there was a wide flavour of feeling from The fucking flower was an expression of feelings, to Miss you, and to this gem I am well pissed at the PO in Dje. Help. But I have found the key I mentioned back on 10 September this year. That for me is it! I was warned not to get so with certain folk, but--though I'm slightly wounded by the cursing and the bastard name-calling--I have no regrets.

Sat 3 December 2005: Soeur, if you have truly listened to me, so as to be awake now to the poignant beauty of the past, you should know that the heart breaks habitually. In fact, all hearts are made to break; its purpose is to erupt and unlock over and over again, so that it can learn wonder upon wonder ad infinitum.
Update: To be wild is not to be crazy like a criminal or psychotic, but mad as the mist and snow. It has nothing to do with being childish or primitive, nor does it manifest as manic rebellion or self-damaging alienation. The real marks of wildness are a love of nature, a delight in silence, a voice free to say spontaneous things, and an exuberant curiosity in the face of the unknown. :: As I meditated earlier today, I got a vision of a friend making their way through an obstacle course--scurrying across booby-trapped terrains, shimmying through tunnels, climbing over barriers, leaping across ditches. Curiously, there was not the least bit of stress etched on their face. On the contrary, their eyes were wide and the wonderful expression was exultant. This almighty trust-worthy friend seemed to regard this not as an ordeal, but as a welcome opportunity to expand their resourcefulness. I now have the courage to visit the guestbook and the message boards. I will visit my mail, and hopefully visit the scenes of the crimes of hatred. One day I may even stop talking in riddles.
Woody Mail! "Dear Mr Woodpigeon: Whenever I'm besieged by terror, I sleep with a shield I made for me long time ago. It's a skullcap on which I've glued a bunch of protecting secret messages, like a million dollars from another world, the head of a baby doll I stole from the hospital where I was born, the toothbrush of a pet cat I miss very much, 35 polo mints arranged in the shape of a peace symbol, a bus ticket on which I wrote my best dream ever (in which I made wild massive love with the LOVE of my life), a birthday card from someone I have never met, a painting of a butterfly singing by a campfire, and a transfer that reads 'Adrenaline is my drug of choice.' Luv, Cackling at My Fretfulness."
Dear Cackling: I love your shield idea so much I would like to borrow it to stuff down some bastard's throat. Love, Woody.x

Sun 20 November 2005: As someone once said: "When you make the two one, and when you make the inside like the outside and the outside like the inside, and the above like the below and the below like the above, and when you make the male like the female and the female like the male, then you will enter the Kingdom." That just about sums it up for me today.

Tues 15 November 2005: I endured great pains today. I met Death for the second time (witness the quickness that I bought it while trying to flee for my sorry life), and after the delightful Blessed Yuffie raised me, it took me forever to relocate my gear. My corpse had been in the plains, and I hold its quick disappearance down to the horrible bastard vultures.

Mon 14 November 2005: Something's happening. I'm not the Legionnaire I should be. I want more. But I know I should not.

Thurs 27 October 2005: Not good. Sevoria has left the Legion and become a witch. A bloody witch. The woman behind my move to become Head of the KFL, the inspiration, the voice.... the witch. This is a lesson to me, a cruel lesson. Oh, women...
One thing I can't stand is a bully. I had dealings with the Disc's largest bully early this morning, and hopefully she'll now get it into her thick, dumpy head not to try her everyday nonsense anymore. This bully is the most unromantic beast that ever urged its squat thick bulk across the face of the protesting earth. I'll gladly name her if she tries anything like that again.

Tues 11 October 2005: Have made a request to the creators to come up with more Legionnaire NPCs, for even those poufs the hunters have their representatives. Things felt a little awkward this morning, watching the late moon descend while the sun climbed the skies. SusannahDean spent some time with me which I needed and told me of a new land far away from here. Imagine that, a new home? We sat on a hill, wedging ourselves between some trees and spent some time people gazing, and shared a bottle of wine, making comments on these sad, peasant folk. All I need to do is find that centre unknown to my mind. And now I know where I can find it, and it is not here. It never was. It is not even out there on the sands. Distance will cool this fever, so will action and business. What I dread is the contrary heating effect of madness. My dreams frighten me. Aha, they did, they did... but no more!

Sat 1 October 2005: Made some updates to the club page and also it details at Zuroc's Discworld MUD site. I am now the Commanding and Information Officer of the Club, and I hope this not only gives me the chance to give the Legion the boast it needs, but also to wage war with the D'regs. Ever since the nomadic scum attacked us all those years ago, the deaths of My Legion have been unavenged! I'll need Sevoria's backing at the council. Anyway, I had a good few pints of bitter at Ankh Morpork's Philosopher's Society (the only decent drinking establishment in that Bedlam) and a pipe to smoke by the fire before heading home. I cannot tell you what a relief it is, to be walking on sand. It is so clear and simple. I do not mean just escaping from the bums and fat, hairy sluts of the towns and cities; I mean all the complications of life within walls. I am not suited to the town and the city and have been walking a tightrope for sometime with no particular skill. I have the feeling of enlargement within my heart out here; a little while ago I should have welcomed it without reservation.

Tues 27 September 2005: I was drowning in the Circle Sea today when my good friend SusannahDean asked me how I was. What timing! Not only is Suzy a good swimmer and was travelling through Zelah, she also worships Fish! We had a very interesting swim, and then as a favour I escorted her to some interesting ruins north-eastern of Al Kali. An amazing morning, with some great path finding and a nice camp made in the shadows of Eritor's neighbouring jungle.

Mon 26 September 2005: Visited the city Ankh Morpork for some strong liquid refreshments and like some rancid tart high on lighter fluid, I got my hair styled. I was shouting 'Come on everybody and walk around my hair!' but no one came, and I stood alone in the rain as the hairstyle washed out.
On news of almost of such importance, Sevoria and I are working on upping the KFL Club. Finally, have met someone who sees the importance of trying to keep the Legion alive. Not only am I running for Information Officer, but also for Commanding Officer. Yes. Commanding Officer. Sevoria will be running for Admin, while using her influence on the Klatchian Council to try and get some much needed backing for the Legion. Djelibeybi may yet be saved! It is a dream I have!

Wed 21 September 2005: Maybe I was hasty. You see I am now a member of the KFL club, and I am also running for Information Officer. Yes, my name should be added to all those bastards. I will see what I can do about that, little awkward. I also provided some funds to the Family Ananya account, in honour of my missing sister. Today I avoided the message boards for fear of being lynched. But on the plus side of this, I have had no headaches, diarrhoea, or puking. I recommend this to all fellow sufferers.

Tues 20 September 2005: After over a year and a half of being on the Disc, more off than on I admit, I was finally asked if I would consider joining the KFL Club. I said no. It's a small log but very important to my continuing quest. What that quest is, I no longer know. If you are as surprised as I am about there even being a club, have a read of it's finger info. Look at all those bastards! Where are they now? Playing Doublestrike out in some grassy meadow while wearing nothing but their mummies panties, no doubt!

The Day: Now how did I end up in the Ramtops? Hmm, let's see... I have an empty, black bottle in my hand. That may go somewhere to explain. Why did I come here? The last time I was this high up I fell. At least the cold wind has snapped my hangover away below. There is still no concern in regards the Legion. None whatsoever. After the history we have had, the honour, no more. Sergeant Small's mother was a piglet. Yet, who can know why these things happen. Who can really know? I think I am the target of all this. It is strange how all this came about, to coincide with the vanishing of my sister, the mentioning of doublestrike, and the collapse of the Legion. I am the target here. And I feel I know the reason - I am being made to despair, to reject the Legion, to see myself as ultimately bestial, as ultimately vile and putrescence; without dignity, ugly and unworthy. And there, my poor soul, lies the heart of it, perhaps; in worthiness. For I think belief in the Legion, my Legion, is not a matter of reason at all; I think it is a matter of love, of accepting the possibility that no one can love me. Yet, from this hidden knowledge, this bane of my heart and life, there must come some good. In some form, some how some way. Perhaps, just perhaps... Could it be that love is the crucible of evil? Ignore the voices from within... they led you here.

Can not remember: Silence. Liar! Proud bastard! Go back to the mountain top and speak to your equal!

Sun 18 September 2005: Why do human beings have no more genes than worms? Why do black sheep have a better sense of smell than white sheep? Why do more than half a million Morporkians believe they have been kidnapped by extraterrestrials? Why do men have nipples? Why do warriors ask fewer questions than any other guild? I need to keep asking questions for fear of going mad. As some ancient headcase once said, "To the mind that is still, the whole universe surrenders." My sister is gone. My sun. I know not where, but somehow she visited me in a dream. Well, a carrier pigeon did. Not saying this was Pithe, but it had a message from her. This tells me one of two things. One: I am drinking too much, or Two: Wherever she is, whatever hellhole she has vanished too, I can reach her. Why and how she ended up there is down to some incompetent, fatheaded clown who can not tell her arse from her elbow.
I need my sister to show me the way to go. I need my light.

Sat 17 September 2005: Of all the things I've lost in life, I miss my mind the most. What have I done? I am such a bastard. Yesterday I got drunk. I walked the streets of Ankh Morpork, laughing my bloody head off. Then I ... Oh, Creeping Sek! I shall earmuff everyone. That way, I won't hurt anyone. I'm crap with people, crap. Time for me to visit the silent land, where you can no more hold me by the hand.
Update: Bastard!

Wed 14 September 2005: "Something we were withholding made us weak," wrote a poet of note long ago. I need to consider the likelihood that this is directly describing my current quandary. My might is being compromised by a feeling I am not exploring, some nagging sensation, some experience I am denying myself or a gift I am refusing to give. I need to unclench my tenacity in every way possible.
28 posts on that bloody doublestrike dance move. Not one, not even one, in regards the fact that the walls of beautiful Djelibeybi could one day be undefended. Do those idiots think that those knock-kneed pansies, the Djelian Guard, would be able to venture out to the sun-blasted wastelands and do battle? They spend most of their time pressing wild flowers and tossing sticks at vagabonds! If the D'Regs get wind of these dark days, all the bloody doublestriking in the world will not stop them from going totally tolally ape within the Jewel of the Circle Sea. They will be drinking our Kir and dancing with our women, while all the Guards will be bending over the barracks stables with their trousers around their ankles, begging for attention! Bastards!

Tues 13 September 2005: I am greatly concerned. The Legion is on the ropes and it may not be long till the D'Regs can smell the blood. I have placed a note on the boards in regards this to the Powers That Be, but it appears other people are more interested in moaning about what they believe their respective warrior specs are missing. One genius has decided that the only way forward for the warriors is this new, profound movement - Doublestrike. Why? Because this almighty brain "really think it is time warriors got a mildly interesting command to use". We have crush, and if I could I would gladly demonstrate this on his highly overly-large, developed head. I can not stand folk who think that we warriors are the poor cousins of the Discworld. Where does this notion lie? I will tell you, in the minds of warriors who are not out hunting or exploring, but sitting in the Drum smoking their pipes and twiddling their thumbs. I must get back to my base and discuss these matters with Sergeant Small.
Update: The Sergeant is shockingly well informed. He has a blasted dossier on my activities. All the details - official reprimand for spitefulness, neglect of orders on many an occasion, reputation for an undue independent lifestyle, for audacity, and even for rebelliousness, rumours of ill behaviour in foreign cities, drunkenness, etc etc. Time for me to head as far east as possible. Bastard!

Sun 11 September 2005: Is there a future for the Legion? The very Legion that defends the desert boarders, beating back the nomadic hoards? At the best of time there's maybe the grand total of one on. That's me. Tonight I had the pleasure of speaking with a colleague, Sevoria. Here we discuss if there is a future for us.

Sat 10 September 2005: After much time not exploring, I felt a little rusty. Hence my picking up my pack and heading west. First, I visited an old, dilapidated monastery sitting high up in the Morpork Mountains. Not much there, but there was peace and solitude in abundance. Well needed. Then off further west to the Ephebian Desert. This desert is one of the Disc's biggest and most inhospitable wastelands; though not as large as the Tsortean, I find that mountain lions seem to prefer these lands. If you feel that I am wrong, please let me know. Temperatures range from -40 (night at around 1.00-2.00 am) to 113 degrees Fahrenheit (noon). Yet as legend has it, not far below the everlasting sand is an enormous water table. It is here that I feel most at ease with myself these days: Whilst I seem to be forever surrounded by scorched boundaries, there is a treasure of rejuvenating, arousing materials locked within me. All I have to do is find the key.

Thur 8 September 2005: Found this log from a chat on the Warrior's Talker Channel a while back. It is slightly humorous in a "you had to be there way" or if you are 3 sheets to the wind, but I would like more of these. Sadly, I need to have my talker off most of the time, as I find that if you listen to too much of that, you will end up head-butting a rail-spike from sheer lunacy.

Wed 7 September 2005: Sometimes you come across someone so special, you feel as if the sun that guides you through the desert is playing some trick on you. But it is a rare time indeed, when you feel the sun is centered around one person. That person ladies and gentlemen is Pithe Ananya. There are so many things that I would like to say about her, but I don't know how. She's my friend, my sister, and my sun.

Sat 27 August 2005: Thacia tells you: love your site...also pretty usefull for my hashwot ALT ;) Thacia, comments like that make me beam! Thank you.

Wed 24 August 2005: As my mother used to say to me, "Woody, if you dig a hole deep enough into the earth, you can greet the sun as she rises for dawn." From a metaphorical perspective, that's good advice: In order to get to the highest place possible, you might have to dive down deeper than you ever have before. Therefore, to find the illumination I need right now, I should probably explore the 'densest darkness' of my soul and return to the desert.

Wed 10 August 2005: Walked from Djelibeybi to Genua today. Well, I cheated from Blackgrass by catching the carriage to Bois and then hitched a lift by crate! It's nice enough there, even if they all do speak a little funny and dress like pansies.

Tues 9 August 2005: "Congratulations! You have now logged onto Discworld 100 times. You are now officially addicted. This lemon will help you on your travels."

Sun 7 August 2005: Seems that justice IS served on the Disc now and then. The problems mentioned below have now been dealt with. Shows what happens if you push just a little bit, and it's nice to see the power of the webby! Nothing new on the Disc worth noting here. But now that I've said that, everything may change in the next half hour!

Wed 3 August 2005: Amazing. I am a little STUNNED at this. I have been trying to join the Seamstresses for some time now. I keep speaking to the Madam about this, and she seems UNSURE of her duties! After having spoken to three members of this club, it appears that not one member of the council is in control! It seems that a member that they are afraid to ban is running things therein, and IT IS SHE I SHOULD SPEAK TO! Sadly, it appears she is an idiot. A fat idiot. The Disc at times is a thing of beauty... and at other times, a place for freaks and brain-damaged arseholes to fondle fellow fools in their dirty, shallow minds.

Thur 7 April 2005: These idea reports are great. Back on January 9th of this year I made the following request: How about selling cigar/cigarette cases at the tobacco shop in AM? A slim, neat little (silver?) case that we could maybe get engraved, etc. I think this would be a great thing! Many times I've rolled a ciggie for a friend or someone at the bar. Why not be able just to "offer" them a cigarette from a nice case? It has been a while (busy guys those Creators), but Thoreksken sent me this reply: Thank you for your idea report, this idea has now been implemented. So listen here all of you, when you are there offering out cigarettes from your little cases, that idea came from me! Keep them in honour of me :P Have also made a few more entries at Zuroc's Discworld MUD site.

Sat 19 March 2005: Have removed the faulty Discworld clock.

Sat 12 March 2005: Has it really been four months since I last did some work on this page!?! WOW! Anyway, the new look has been inspired by the newbies that have written in trying to join the guild in the dark! Bloody nights;) Seems to be the same problems with newbies wishing to be barbarians. Guys & gals, do not give up without a fight! Read my first entry, and you will see I have been through the same mill.
Have made some slight changes to the Getting Started page.
Have added the Getting Started page to Zuroc's Discworld MUD site. You can view (and edit) it here.

Sun 21 November 2004: Not sure how or why but my Disc Clock has zoomed forward by three hours! I am working on it when I have the time, but it's a toughie! For those that have complained, please be patient as my math is not that great! If in doubt, take three away from the shown time.


Fri 19 November 2004: One thing about my webpage is that it is not perfect, and some may not agree with it. I do like constructive criticism as this not only makes this place a better webpage, but myself a better player! Had the awful misfortune today of listening to a player called Chainsaw (I am naming him as he pretty much gave himself away in the Guestbook, poor bugger!).
Chainsaw 'd Ya LegOff tells you: Your website is crap.
You ask Chainsaw 'd Ya LegOff: You think so?
> Chainsaw 'd Ya LegOff tells you: Yes, it's one of the worst I've EVER ****ing seen about the disc, and that's a lot for me to look with see OK!

Ok. Not very constructive or well put together as it does not tell me anything other than the fact that Chainsaw is an idiot. Shame.
People, if you feel there is something wrong with my webpage, let me know in a manner in which I can make it better! It will make me a better web-designer and you probably more happy to visit the site.

Sat 13 November 2004: One of the things most newbies moan to me about is the dark! Yes, little newbies can be frightened of the dark as (1) they have no yellow rings as such and (2) forget in their dread that they have a reasonably good torch with them! So they log out to come back in later, and it is night still! To help with those that hate the dark, and also for those that wish to walk from Djelibeybi to Slice during the day I have added a small clock on the Index page displaying Discworld time! I could not have done this without the marvellous mathematically talented Conger Eel, so a big-UP goes there!

Sun 10 October 2004: 53 days away, and thankfully not much has changed! I have made the "newbie" page into a Getting Started page, and with this idea I hope to start adding a few more pages. I have also requested to be part of the Discworld MUD Ring so fingers crossed for that. While my process is going through please have a look at some of the other MUD related webpages out there, some beauties. I'm sure though the route to Djelibeybi to Ankh-Morpork and visa-versa has become shorter, or maybe I'm just used to it! I will be adding more on KFL primaries very soon for that those that have asked for them!

Wed 19 May 2004: I'm away for a week or two and they go and change the Ramtops! Nearly fell to my death logging in by the Coach Stop! It's still a great place, but not many map-makers have jumped on to create the first map. The only one there at this time of typing is on this great website by the witch Clover. I haven't really got much to add about my own adventures on the Disc. I have fallen into a routine of moving around and fighting as often as I can. It's the best for experience, trust me! That map that the legendary Airk made for me was great, but due to my awful set up online, or Geocities playing sillybuggers I could not download it! Thanks anyway Airk!
Now for a very important tip! Do not kill shopkeepers or important NPCs in the Ramtops. Or you'll get this special treatment: A group of villagers charges in and you can't escape their grasp. They drag you out into the forest before dumping you harshly. You hear a wolf howl among the trees. Here, deep in Lancre Forest, the trees are surprisingly spread out. Bracken covers the ground and grows right up to the trees. A tree here seems to be covered in a number of scratches. Leaves from the autumn trees cover the ground, and not the trees where they have grown for most of the year. It is a slightly chilly autumn prime's morning with a steady breeze and many puffy clouds. There are no obvious exits. See that? There are no obvious exits!!! I walked around for an age trying to find a way out of here, and mindful of the wolf howl and awful scratches on the tress I nearly fainted. If you have a friend on the Disc ask his advance in regards the use of the godmother, avoid my route of asking on the Warrior's Channel and getting this thickheaded wisdom "Try it and see!" - Or just take my advance: You will need her, you will lose a life, but you will have all your entire itinerary!

Tues 30 March 2004: I have added a Newbie(ish) Area here. I also died for the first time today. Ouch. But a big thank you to Plyss for guiding me to a new body, and for Airk for his kindness with map-making (not really attached to this story, but he did inform me of a map he has created for me while I was falling to my death!). This death came about through a lethal combination of looking out the window and singing along to Oasis' song 'Stand By Me' (Track 4 on 'Be Here Now'). I will never listen to that again!!! :P

Sat 27 March 2004: I walked from Djelibeybi to Ankh-Morpork today. Apart from the bloody mad rogue bull elephants and speedy lions I made it in one piece! This is largely thanks to Boot the Adventurer's map, so a BIG UP to Big! Thanks for you hard work! TIP: Leave Djelibeybi by the Ephebe Gate heading south to south-east, remembering to use the map command as often as possible. Head for the safety of the beach and ten miles to the south of Il-Drim is the sight for the sore eyes of all newbie travellers everywhere = "This is the middle of an extremely well used road..."!! Take this road all the way round to Ankh-Morpork if you wish to avoid wild beasties! It is the long way round though if you stick to it, and pretty boring too. But safe! I entered Ankh-Morpork by the Onion Gate.

Fri 12 March 2004: Arrive on the Discworld MUD for the first time! I was helped out by Nex, who through the command tell guided me to the Klatchian Foreign Legion Base, and also kitted me out! Since this day I have spent most of my time killing vultures and scorpions and dodging lions!!!

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