Niners vs Guard

Welcome to MUSHclient version 4.73!
Written by Nick Gammon.

Compiled: May  8 2011.
Using: Lua 5.1.4, PCRE 8.10, PNG 1.5.2, SQLite3 3.7.6.2, Zlib 1.2.5

For information and assistance about MUSHclient visit our forum at:
   http://www.gammon.com.au/forum/
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--- Connected on Monday, June 10, 2013, 7:06 PM ---
Atonement RPI Engine Variant
----------------------

Welcome to ParallelRPI!

C) Create a new account.
L) Log in to an existing account.

X) Disconnect from the server.

Original DikuMUD GAMMA (0.0):
Hans Henrik Staerfeldt, Tom
Madson, Katja Nyboe, Michael
Seifert, and Sebastian Hammer

Original Harshlands Framework:
Charles Rand, a.k.a. "Rassilon"

Shadows of Isildur RPI Engine:
C. W. McHenry,  a.k.a. "Traithe"
J. Webb, a.k.a. "Sighentist"
L. Cunningham, a.k.a. "Japheth"

Atonement RPI Engine:
J.P.H, a.k.a. "Kithrater"



Your Selection:
l
Your account name:
removed
Password:
1
    Parallel RPI: Main Menu
    ------------------------


    1. Enter the Game, or complete an unfinished application.
    2. Enter the Graveyard as a Guest Login.

    3. Create a new character.
    4. Delete a pending application.
    5. Retire your character.

    6. Update your e-mail address.
    7. Change your account password.
    8. Toggle ANSI color setting.
    9. Check your game-mail.

    10. Log out.



Your Selection:

Under an Ancient, Faded Billboard
Exits: north east west

   The parking lot ends here, enclosed on one side by the crumbling side of an
abandoned building and on the other by the newer wall surrounding the market.
A path leads towards the latter, running under the shadow of an old billboard
with the faded letters P RKING ', TO 8. Graffiti covers every vertical
surface of the area, and generations of garbage have accumulated in holes and
crevices all around.

Dozens of spent casings blanket the area.
The area is studded with several discharged bullets.
A long-barreled, nicked .25 compact pistol lies here.
A .30 small rifle magazine lies here.
A cadaverous, stark man is here, guarding the down exit.
A broad-shouldered man with dark features stands here.
A tall, blue-scarf-masked person is here.
A small, greasy-haired young man is here.
A messy-haired, muscular male youth is here.
A man with ruddy, nearly blood-colored cheeks stands here.
A scrawny young man with a crooked nose stands here.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
A messy-haired, muscular male youth says, out of character,
   "Wait."

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
A skinny, rough-looking youngster enters the area.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  >

A skinny, rough-looking youngster takes aim at you with a bull-barreled,
notched .25 compact revolver!

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
A messy-haired, muscular male youth says, out of character,
   "Wait."

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
The tall, blue-scarf-masked person draws a simple dagger from a ratty, black ankle sheath.
A strapping, hardened man with ash-blond hair enters the area.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
A cadaverous, stark man says, out of character,
   "Hold on with the attack, recover fromc rash."

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
l me
   Wild and tousled, this young man's chestnut-brown hair sits upon his
bullet-shaped skull in a bedraggled state. Below, two cool bottle-green eyes
reside within sunken sockets, almost daring in nature. He's a scrawny thing
made of skin, bone and slight, lean muscle. It's the kind of muscle gained
from genetics and leading an active lifestyle. Based upon the callouses on his
wiry, long fingers, he's a craftsman of the sorts, taking part in manual labor.
A crooked, hawkish nose is the focal point of his sharp-featured face. Below
sit his thin lips and a pointed chin. His expression is habitually wolfish,
perhaps a cause of his youthful and almost mischievous features.

You detect a faint essence of sweat about him.

A scrawny, crooked-nosed young man appears to be in excellent condition.

<wielded in right hand>  a worn, simple, long-hafted mace
<wielded in left hand>   a beaten chain

<worn on head>           a worn, tattered, thick-leather cowl
<worn at neck>           a grey-scaled, thick collar
<worn over the body>     a bloody, armored, brown wide-lapelled greatcoat
<worn about body>        a grey-scaled, thick hauberk
<worn on body>           a coarse, natural-hued, padded vest
<across the back>        a bloody well-worn thick backpack with black straps
<worn over shoulder>     a dirt-encrusted, large, sturdy, pale grey pack
<worn over shoulder>     a small teardrop shield
<worn on arms>           a bloody pair of grey-scaled, thick sleeves
<worn on hands>          a pair of natural-hued work gloves
<worn about waist>       a black thick belt with a stylized 'NG' buckle
<worn on belt>           a thick, white sheath
<worn on belt>           a thick, white sheath
<worn on legs>           a pair of grey-scaled, thick leggings
<worn on left ankle>     a black, thick ankle holster
<worn on feet>           a pair of grey-scaled, thick boots

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
A skinny, rough-looking youngster says, out of character,
   "Okay."

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
A ruddy-cheeked man says, out of character,
   "The most stable game."

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
The tall, blue-scarf-masked person wears a blood-drenched pale grey,
sturdy, tailed coat over its body.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
l

Under an Ancient, Faded Billboard
Exits: north east west

   The parking lot ends here, enclosed on one side by the crumbling side of an
abandoned building and on the other by the newer wall surrounding the market.
A path leads towards the latter, running under the shadow of an old billboard
with the faded letters P RKING ', TO 8. Graffiti covers every vertical
surface of the area, and generations of garbage have accumulated in holes and
crevices all around.

Dozens of spent casings blanket the area.
The area is studded with several discharged bullets.
A long-barreled, nicked .25 compact pistol lies here.
A .30 small rifle magazine lies here.
A strapping, hardened man with ash-blond hair stands here resolute.
A stick thin, rough looking young man stands here.
A cadaverous, stark man is here, guarding the down exit.
A broad-shouldered man with dark features stands here.
A tall, blue-scarf-masked person is here.
A small, greasy-haired young man is here.
A messy-haired, muscular male youth is here.
A man with ruddy, nearly blood-colored cheeks stands here.
A scrawny young man with a crooked nose stands here.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
scan w
A broad-shouldered man with dark features falls into stride with a
strapping, hardened man with ash-blond hair.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  > You focus on the western horizon . . .

Nearby, A Small Alley Leading from the Market, you see...
A bald, sharp nosed man is here.
A frail man with grey-toned flesh is sitting here.
A sandy-haired, milky skinned woman is sitting here, taking cover from the
east.
A splintered streetlight illuminates the area. (lit)

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
A broad-shouldered man with dark features begins to conceal himself.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
The tall, blue-scarf-masked person draws a simple combat knife from a ratty, black ankle sheath.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
A spare young man with crooked features says, out of character,
   "Er..."

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
Blood flows from a moderate hole on a spare young man with crooked
features's abdomen.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
A messy-haired, muscular male youth says, out of character,
   "Everyone fall back in, by the way. Is everyone back?"

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
dia spare
A spare young man with crooked features

His face looks slightly pale.
He appears injured.

A spare young man with crooked features has a spurting terrible hole on the
skull, a minor contusion on the groin, and a bleeding moderate hole on the
abdomen.

He has a chipped .25 bullet lodged in the skull.


<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
A cadaverous, stark man falls into stride with a messy-haired, muscular
male youth.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
A strapping, hardened man with ash-blond hair says, out of character,
   "Bind since he's bleeding in the interim?"

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
A small, greasy-haired young man falls into stride with a messy-haired,
muscular male youth.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
A spare young man with crooked features says, out of character,
   "Well I was stopping my wound when the game crashed, so I guess that's
    that."

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
A spare young man with crooked features sits down.
A small, greasy-haired young man crouches beside a spare young man with
crooked features, trying to stop his bleeding.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
A ruddy-cheeked man begins running eastward.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
ooc Jake, bind.
You say, out of character,
   "Jake, bind."

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
A spare young man with crooked features slowly begins administering aid to
his wounds, attempting to stem the bleeding.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
l

Under an Ancient, Faded Billboard
Exits: north east west

   The parking lot ends here, enclosed on one side by the crumbling side of an
abandoned building and on the other by the newer wall surrounding the market.
A path leads towards the latter, running under the shadow of an old billboard
with the faded letters P RKING ', TO 8. Graffiti covers every vertical
surface of the area, and generations of garbage have accumulated in holes and
crevices all around.

Dozens of spent casings blanket the area.
The area is studded with several discharged bullets.
A long-barreled, nicked .25 compact pistol lies here.
A .30 small rifle magazine lies here.
A strapping, hardened man with ash-blond hair stands here resolute.
A stick thin, rough looking young man stands here.
A cadaverous, stark man is here, guarding the down exit.
A tall, blue-scarf-masked person is here.
A small, greasy-haired young man is here.
A messy-haired, muscular male youth is here.
A spare young man with crooked features is sitting here.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
A cadaverous, stark man says, out of character,
   "Continue?"

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
ooc Si.
You say, out of character,
   "Si."

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
Blood spurts from a terrible hole on a spare young man with crooked
features's skull.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
A stalwart, russet-headed man enters the area.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
A small, greasy-haired young man finishes his ministrations, partially
stemming the bleeding from the terrible hole on a spare young man with
crooked features's skull.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >

A strapping, hardened man with ash-blond hair sheathes a simple, straight sword with a lizardskin grip in a pocked, grey sheath.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| > <****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
A ruddy-cheeked man walks in from the east.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
A messy-haired, muscular male youth says, out of character,
   "Now."

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
A cadaverous, stark man shouts,
   "GRIFF!"

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
A small, greasy-haired young man crouches beside a spare young man with
crooked features, trying to stop his bleeding.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
l

Under an Ancient, Faded Billboard
Exits: north east west

   The parking lot ends here, enclosed on one side by the crumbling side of an
abandoned building and on the other by the newer wall surrounding the market.
A path leads towards the latter, running under the shadow of an old billboard
with the faded letters P RKING ', TO 8. Graffiti covers every vertical
surface of the area, and generations of garbage have accumulated in holes and
crevices all around.

Dozens of spent casings blanket the area.
The area is studded with several discharged bullets.
A long-barreled, nicked .25 compact pistol lies here.
A .30 small rifle magazine lies here.
A man with ruddy, nearly blood-colored cheeks stands here.
A stalwart man with short, russet hair stands here.
A strapping, hardened man with ash-blond hair stands here resolute.
A stick thin, rough looking young man stands here.
A cadaverous, stark man is here, guarding the down exit.
A tall, blue-scarf-masked person is here.
A small, greasy-haired young man is here.
A messy-haired, muscular male youth is here.
A spare young man with crooked features is sitting here.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >

Wandering in, his face showing no clue as to just what's going on, a skinny,
rough-looking youngster decides to point a bull-barreled, notched .25
compact revolver in your direction with a shrug.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
kill skinny


You easily miss a skinny, rough-looking youngster with your strike.

<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:***** >
You only just parry a skinny, rough-looking youngster's crush with your
weapon.

<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:***** >
l me
A cadaverous, stark man cuts a skinny, rough-looking youngster's neck
extremely hard with his sword.

<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:***   >    Wild and tousled, this young man's chestnut-brown hair sits upon his
bullet-shaped skull in a bedraggled state. Below, two cool bottle-green eyes
reside within sunken sockets, almost daring in nature. He's a scrawny thing
made of skin, bone and slight, lean muscle. It's the kind of muscle gained
from genetics and leading an active lifestyle. Based upon the callouses on his
wiry, long fingers, he's a craftsman of the sorts, taking part in manual labor.
A crooked, hawkish nose is the focal point of his sharp-featured face. Below
sit his thin lips and a pointed chin. His expression is habitually wolfish,
perhaps a cause of his youthful and almost mischievous features.

You detect a faint essence of sweat about him.

A scrawny, crooked-nosed young man appears to be in excellent condition.

<wielded in right hand>  a worn, simple, long-hafted mace
<wielded in left hand>   a beaten chain

<worn on head>           a worn, tattered, thick-leather cowl
<worn at neck>           a grey-scaled, thick collar
<worn over the body>     a bloody, armored, brown wide-lapelled greatcoat
<worn about body>        a grey-scaled, thick hauberk
<worn on body>           a coarse, natural-hued, padded vest
<across the back>        a bloody well-worn thick backpack with black straps
<worn over shoulder>     a dirt-encrusted, large, sturdy, pale grey pack
<worn over shoulder>     a small teardrop shield
<worn on arms>           a bloody pair of grey-scaled, thick sleeves
<worn on hands>          a pair of natural-hued work gloves
<worn about waist>       a black thick belt with a stylized 'NG' buckle
<worn on belt>           a thick, white sheath
<worn on belt>           a thick, white sheath
<worn on legs>           a pair of grey-scaled, thick leggings
<worn on left ankle>     a black, thick ankle holster
<worn on feet>           a pair of grey-scaled, thick boots

<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:***   >
A spare young man with crooked features finishes his ministrations,
partially stemming the bleeding from the terrible hole on his skull.

<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:***   >
A messy-haired, muscular male youth engages a stalwart, russet-headed
man in combat.
A stalwart, russet-headed man attempts to parry, but a messy-haired,
muscular male youth thrusts through his defenses, and thrusts him hard on the
right hip.

<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:***   >
A skinny, rough-looking youngster's eyes dart about looking for an escape path!

<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:***   >

You crush a skinny, rough-looking youngster's left thigh hard with your
weapon.
The blow to a skinny, rough-looking youngster's left thigh forces him to
his knees.

<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:***   >
strike head
The tall, blue-scarf-masked person loses its grip on its knife, which falls
to the ground!
Unable to defend himself, the tall, blue-scarf-masked person stabs a
skinny, rough-looking youngster glancingly on the left foot.
You're unable to easily strike a skinny, rough-looking youngster's head in
his current position. Aim elsewhere.

<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:***   >

A skinny, rough-looking youngster's gasps for air as his left hip is
struck.

<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:*     >

A small bullet comes whirring through the air from the north, heading
straight towards a spare young man with crooked features!

The bullet misses him by a whisper.

A spare young man with crooked features starts taking cover from the
north.

<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:*     >
A skinny, rough-looking youngster stops resting, and clambers on his feet.
A skinny, rough-looking youngster nearly flees!

<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:*     >
A spare young man with crooked features stops taking cover.
A spare young man with crooked features clambers on his feet.

<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:*     >
A small, greasy-haired young man finishes his ministrations, stemming the
bleeding from the terrible hole on a spare young man with crooked
features's skull.

<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:*     >

A small bullet comes whirring through the air from the north, heading
straight towards a spare young man with crooked features!

The bullet misses him by a whisper.

A spare young man with crooked features starts taking cover from the
north.

<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:*     >

A small bullet comes whirring through the air from the north, heading
straight towards a spare young man with crooked features!

The bullet grazes across his right forearm.


<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:*     >
A skinny, rough-looking youngster nearly flees!

<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:*     >
A spare young man with crooked features stops taking cover.
A spare young man with crooked features starts taking cover from the
north.

<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:*     >
A stalwart, russet-headed man narrowly parries a messy-haired, muscular
male youth's stab with his knife.

<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:*     >

You miss a skinny, rough-looking youngster with your crush.

<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:*     >

A small bullet comes whirring through the air from the north, heading
straight towards a spare young man with crooked features!

The bullet strikes his a bloody digital grey, stylized 'NG' marked
flak-vest.


<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:*     >
The tall, blue-scarf-masked person narrowly misses a skinny,
rough-looking youngster with its stab.

<****** / ^^^^^  / |||||  / a skinny, rough-looking youngster:*     >
A cadaverous, stark man cuts a skinny, rough-looking youngster very
hard on the face as he tries to dodge away.

A skinny, rough-looking youngster is sliced open by a cadaverous, stark
man's savage slice, collapsing to the ground, dead!

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
A ruddy-cheeked man exclaims, jogging back in,
   "The Niner bitch ran away!"

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >

A small bullet comes whirring through the air from the north, heading
straight towards a spare young man with crooked features!

The bullet misses him broadly.


<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
You hear a male voice shout from the west,
   "What! TRYING to save a guy here!"

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
The tall, blue-scarf-masked person gets a simple dagger.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
A spare young man with crooked features exclaims, with an airy, concise
tone,
   "Fuck!"

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
The tall, blue-scarf-masked person wields a simple dagger.
A cadaverous, stark man begins to conceal himself.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
scan n
You focus on the northern horizon . . .

Nearby, A Makeshift Ball Court, you see...
A lean, wild-haired man lingers here.
A long, metal bench is here, bolted to the floor.
A manon, thin metal doorknob is hidden in a crevice with a load of other
junk !doorknob is hidden in a crevice with a load of other junk. (hidden from
view)
Spent casings litter the ground underfoot.

Far away, Corner of a Crumbling Lot, you see...
Nothing of interest.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
flee
A ruddy-cheeked man begins walking northward.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| > You're not fighting.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
The tall, blue-scarf-masked person begins wandering northward.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
n
You begin walking northward.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
A messy-haired, muscular male youth utterly misses a stalwart,
russet-headed man with his lunge.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
A messy-haired, muscular male youth says, with a low, deadpan Ruster
drawl,
   "GET ON RUSSET."

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||| >

A Makeshift Ball Court
Exits: north east south

   The asphalt is in slightly better shape on this stretch of the lot, leading
someone to have set it up as a ball court. Two pairs of old, rusted-through
barrels make up the opposing goals while a few faded and irregularly perforated
lines of paint denote the borders and center of the field. A row of ancient,
mangled benches line one side of the field, some clearly appropriated from
elsewhere, while the wall to the west is covered in all manner of vulgar
graffiti.

A long, metal bench is here, bolted to the floor.
A manon, thin metal doorknob is hidden in a crevice with a load of other
junk !doorknob is hidden in a crevice with a load of other junk. (hidden from
view)
A spray-painted faded blue stylized 'NG' marks the wall.
Spent casings litter the ground underfoot.
A man with ruddy, nearly blood-colored cheeks stands here.
A lean, wild-haired man lingers here.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
kill lean


A lean, wild-haired man takes aim at a ruddy-cheeked man with a
flute-barreled, discoloured .25 compact pistol.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  > Stop traveling first.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
A ruddy-cheeked man engages a lean, wild-haired man in combat.
A ruddy-cheeked man utterly misses a lean, wild-haired man with his
slash.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
kill lean

The tall, blue-scarf-masked person trudges in from the south.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  > Stop traveling first.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
kill lean

You easily miss a lean, wild-haired man with your strike.


<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:****  >
strike head

A ruddy-cheeked man parries a lean, wild-haired man's lazy bash with
his sword.
A lean, wild-haired man fires a flute-barreled, discoloured .25 compact
pistol, a small bullet shooting towards a ruddy-cheeked man.

The bullet punctures his right upper arm.


<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:****  > You take aim at a lean, wild-haired man's head.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:****  >
l me
   Wild and tousled, this young man's chestnut-brown hair sits upon his
bullet-shaped skull in a bedraggled state. Below, two cool bottle-green eyes
reside within sunken sockets, almost daring in nature. He's a scrawny thing
made of skin, bone and slight, lean muscle. It's the kind of muscle gained
from genetics and leading an active lifestyle. Based upon the callouses on his
wiry, long fingers, he's a craftsman of the sorts, taking part in manual labor.
A crooked, hawkish nose is the focal point of his sharp-featured face. Below
sit his thin lips and a pointed chin. His expression is habitually wolfish,
perhaps a cause of his youthful and almost mischievous features.

You detect a faint essence of sweat about him.

A scrawny, crooked-nosed young man appears to be in excellent condition.

<wielded in right hand>  a worn, simple, long-hafted mace
<wielded in left hand>   a beaten chain

<worn on head>           a worn, tattered, thick-leather cowl
<worn at neck>           a grey-scaled, thick collar
<worn over the body>     a bloody, armored, brown wide-lapelled greatcoat
<worn about body>        a grey-scaled, thick hauberk
<worn on body>           a coarse, natural-hued, padded vest
<across the back>        a blood-covered well-worn thick backpack with black straps
<worn over shoulder>     a dirt-encrusted, large, sturdy, pale grey pack
<worn over shoulder>     a small teardrop shield
<worn on arms>           a bloody pair of grey-scaled, thick sleeves
<worn on hands>          a bloody pair of natural-hued work gloves
<worn about waist>       a black thick belt with a stylized 'NG' buckle
<worn on belt>           a thick, white sheath
<worn on belt>           a thick, white sheath
<worn on legs>           a pair of grey-scaled, thick leggings
<worn on left ankle>     a black, thick ankle holster
<worn on feet>           a pair of grey-scaled, thick boots

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:****  >
The tall, blue-scarf-masked person stabs a lean, wild-haired man on the
thorax as he tries to dodge away.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:***   >
The tall, blue-scarf-masked person completely misses a lean, wild-haired
man with its stab.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:***   >
A ruddy-cheeked man emphatically tells a lean, wild-haired man,
   "Die!"

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:***   >
A lean, wild-haired man's eyes dart about looking for an escape path!

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:***   >

You utterly miss a lean, wild-haired man with your crush.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:***   >
A ruddy-cheeked man completely misses a lean, wild-haired man with his
slice.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:***   >

You broadly miss a lean, wild-haired man with your bash.

<****** / ^^^^^  / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:***   >

A lean, wild-haired man fires a flute-barreled, discoloured .25 compact
pistol, a small bullet shooting towards you!

The bullet ruptures your thorax.


You grimace as you feel blood begin to flow from a moderate puncture on your
thorax.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:***    / bleeding>
The tall, blue-scarf-masked person pierces a lean, wild-haired man's
abdomen hard with its knife.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:***    / bleeding>
The tall, blue-scarf-masked person pierces a lean, wild-haired man's
skull hard with its knife.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:***    / bleeding>

A lean, wild-haired man fires a flute-barreled, discoloured .25 compact
pistol, a small bullet shooting towards you!

The bullet misses you completely.


<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:***    / bleeding>
shout Save my brother!
You shout,
   "Save my brother!"

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:***    / bleeding>

A lean, wild-haired man fires a flute-barreled, discoloured .25 compact
pistol, a small bullet shooting towards you!

The bullet glances across your right forearm.


You grimace as you feel blood begin to flow from a minor tear on your right
forearm.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:***    / bleeding>

You utterly miss a lean, wild-haired man with your bash.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:***    / bleeding>

You easily miss a lean, wild-haired man with your crush.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:***    / bleeding>
With a nimble stab, the tall, blue-scarf-masked person drives its knife
hard into a lean, wild-haired man's left thigh.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:**     / bleeding>
The tall, blue-scarf-masked person misses a lean, wild-haired man with
its stab.
A ruddy-cheeked man completely misses a lean, wild-haired man with his
slice.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:**     / bleeding>
A lean, wild-haired man fires a flute-barreled, discoloured .25 compact
pistol, a small bullet shooting towards a ruddy-cheeked man.

The bullet brushes across his face.


<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:**     / bleeding>
strike head
You take aim at a lean, wild-haired man's head.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:**     / bleeding>
A frail man with grey-toned flesh walks in from the south.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:**     / bleeding>
A lean, wild-haired man nearly flees!

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:**     / bleeding>
A frail man with grey-toned flesh closes on a lean, wild-haired man and
both nearly trip!
A frail man with grey-toned flesh stabs a lean, wild-haired man's left
upper arm glancingly with his knife.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:**     / bleeding>
A lean, wild-haired man stops using a damaged small heater shield.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:**     / bleeding>

You force through a lean, wild-haired man's defenses and strike him on
the face with your weapon.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:**     / bleeding>
A lean, wild-haired man nearly flees!

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:**     / bleeding>
The tall, blue-scarf-masked person barely misses a lean, wild-haired
man with its stab.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:**     / bleeding>
The tall, blue-scarf-masked person completely misses a lean, wild-haired
man with its stab.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:**     / bleeding>
guard south
You will now guard the south exit.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:**     / bleeding>
A lean, wild-haired man nearly flees!
A messy-haired, muscular male youth walks in from the south, striding along
with a steady pace.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:**     / bleeding>
A cadaverous, stark man walks in from the south, with easy steps.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:**     / bleeding>

You force through a lean, wild-haired man's defenses and bash him on the
left thigh with your weapon.
A lean, wild-haired man collapses to the ground.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:**     / bleeding>
Unable to defend himself, a ruddy-cheeked man slices a lean, wild-haired
man glancingly on the right foot.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:*      / bleeding>
A frail man with grey-toned flesh loses his grip on his knife, which falls
to the ground!
A frail man with grey-toned flesh pierces a lean, wild-haired man
glancingly on the left forearm while he is helpless to stop him.
A lean, wild-haired man has been rendered unconscious.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:*      / bleeding>
strike head
You take aim at a lean, wild-haired man's head.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:*      / bleeding>
Unable to defend himself, the tall, blue-scarf-masked person pierces a
lean, wild-haired man on the right calf.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:*      / bleeding>
A cadaverous, stark man engages a lean, wild-haired man in combat.
Unable to defend himself, a cadaverous, stark man slices a lean,
wild-haired man on the left thigh.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:*      / bleeding>
The tall, blue-scarf-masked person engages a lean, wild-haired man in
combat.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / a lean, wild-haired man:*      / bleeding>

While helpless to stop you, you crush a lean, wild-haired man hard on the
skull.

A lean, wild-haired man is smashed down by your crushing bash, expiring
with a ragged exhalation!

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / bleeding>
A frail man with grey-toned flesh gets a rough hunting knife.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / bleeding>

A cadaverous, stark man attempts to move past you, but you intercept him.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / bleeding>

The tall, blue-scarf-masked person attempts to move past you, but you
intercept it.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / bleeding>
A frail man with grey-toned flesh wields a rough hunting knife.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / bleeding>
l

A Makeshift Ball Court
Exits: north east south

   The asphalt is in slightly better shape on this stretch of the lot, leading
someone to have set it up as a ball court. Two pairs of old, rusted-through
barrels make up the opposing goals while a few faded and irregularly perforated
lines of paint denote the borders and center of the field. A row of ancient,
mangled benches line one side of the field, some clearly appropriated from
elsewhere, while the wall to the west is covered in all manner of vulgar
graffiti.

A long, metal bench is here, bolted to the floor.
A manon, thin metal doorknob is hidden in a crevice with a load of other
junk !doorknob is hidden in a crevice with a load of other junk. (hidden from
view)
A spray-painted faded blue stylized 'NG' marks the wall.
Spent casings litter the ground underfoot.
A small heater shield lies here.
A flute-barreled, discoloured .25 compact pistol lies here.
The corpse of a lean, wild-haired man is lying here.
A cadaverous, stark man settles here.
A messy-haired, muscular male youth is here.
A frail man with grey-toned flesh is here.
A tall, blue-scarf-masked person is here.
A man with ruddy, nearly blood-colored cheeks stands here.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / bleeding>
guard self
You are not currently guarding anything.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / bleeding>
scan s
You focus on the southern horizon . . .

Nearby, Under an Ancient, Faded Billboard, you see...
A bald, sharp-nosed man is sitting here, taking cover from the north.
A strapping, hardened man with ash-blond hair stands here resolute.
A broad-shouldered man with dark features stands here.
Dozens of spent casings blanket the area.
The area is studded with several discharged bullets.
A long-barreled, nicked .25 compact pistol lies here.
A .30 small rifle magazine lies here.
The corpse of a skinny, rough-looking youngster is lying here.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / bleeding>
s
You begin walking southward.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / bleeding>
A messy-haired, muscular male youth gets 7 .25 pistol casings.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / bleeding>
A frail man with grey-toned flesh exclaims, with a faint, Rust-accented
tone,
   "Oh god...it hurts so much!"

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / bleeding>

Under an Ancient, Faded Billboard
Exits: north east west

   The parking lot ends here, enclosed on one side by the crumbling side of an
abandoned building and on the other by the newer wall surrounding the market.
A path leads towards the latter, running under the shadow of an old billboard
with the faded letters P RKING ', TO 8. Graffiti covers every vertical
surface of the area, and generations of garbage have accumulated in holes and
crevices all around.

Dozens of spent casings blanket the area.
The area is studded with several discharged bullets.
A long-barreled, nicked .25 compact pistol lies here.
A .30 small rifle magazine lies here.
The corpse of a skinny, rough-looking youngster is lying here.
A bald, sharp nosed man is here.
A strapping, hardened man with ash-blond hair stands here resolute.
A broad-shouldered man with dark features stands here.
A bald, sharp-nosed man begins walking northward.

<*****  / ^^^^   / |||    / bleeding>
scan w
You focus on the western horizon . . .

Nearby, A Small Alley Leading from the Market, you see...
A small, greasy-haired young man is here.
A spare young man with crooked features bleeds heavily by the gate,
blinking slowly..
A sandy-haired, milky skinned woman is sitting here, taking cover from the
east.
A splintered streetlight illuminates the area. (lit)

<*****  / ^^^^   / |||    / bleeding>
You feel as if you have fully regained your balance.

<*****  / ^^^^   / |||    / bleeding>
w
You begin walking westward.
Pain shoots through your thorax as you move.

<*****  / ^^^^   / |||    / bleeding>
A messy-haired, muscular male youth walks in from the north, striding along
with a steady pace.

<*****  / ^^^^   / ||||   / bleeding>

A Small Alley Leading from the Market
Exits: north (closed market gate) east

   A small alley, barely wide enough for two to walk side by side, winds its
way from the market. The gate takes up the entire width of the alley, and
electrical cables are festooned across the narrow space just outside of reach,
feeding power from the market to the closest buildings outside of it. The
confined space casts the alley in a permanent gloomy shade.
   You must CALL GATEGUARD to enter the market.

A splintered streetlight illuminates the area. (lit)
A spray-painted faded blue stylized 'NG' marks the wall.
A small, greasy-haired young man is here.
A spare young man with crooked features bleeds heavily by the gate,
blinking slowly..
A sandy-haired, milky skinned woman is sitting here, taking cover from the
east.

<*****  / ^^^^   / |||    / bleeding>
You hear a male voice shout from the east,
   "Stop the bleeding."

<*****  / ^^^^   / |||    / bleeding>
A spare young man with crooked features tells a small, greasy-haired young
man, dragging himself painfully through the dust,
   "I ain't need twenty bullets, th' pussy."

<*****  / ^^^^   / |||    / bleeding>
sheath chain
A messy-haired, muscular male youth walks in from the east, striding along
with a steady pace.
You sheath a beaten chain in a thick, white sheath.

<*****  / ^^^^   / |||    / bleeding>
sit
You sit down.

<*****  / ^^^^   / |||    / bleeding>
bind me
You slowly begin administering aid to your wounds, attempting to stem the
bleeding.

<*****  / ^^^^   / |||    / bleeding>
A cadaverous, stark man paces in from the east, with easy steps.
A bald, sharp-nosed man paces in from the east.

<*****  / ^^^^   / |||    / bleeding>
A messy-haired, muscular male youth sheathes a simple, thin sword with a dog-leather grip in a pocked, red sheath.

<*****  / ^^^^   / |||    / bleeding>

A small, greasy-haired young man crouches beside you, trying to stop your
bleeding.

<*****  / ^^^^   / |||    / bleeding>
Echoed by other radios in the room, a blood-covered, large, indigo, handheld
receiver carried by A cadaverous, stark man asks, his words clear and
well-enunciated,
   "Guard. Where are you?"

<*****  / ^^^^   / |||    / bleeding>
A spare young man with crooked features turns to watch the east exit.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / |||    / bleeding>
You continue your work attempting to stem the flow of blood.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||   / bleeding>
A cadaverous, stark man drops:
   a filthy small Heater shield
   a rough, broad sword with a dog-leather grip

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||   / bleeding>

A cadaverous, stark man crouches beside you, trying to stop your bleeding.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||   / bleeding>
A spare young man with crooked features starts taking cover from the east.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||   / bleeding>

A small, greasy-haired young man finishes his ministrations, partially
stemming the bleeding from the moderate puncture on your thorax.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||   / bleeding>
dia spare
A spare young man with crooked features

His face looks rather pallid.
He appears moderately injured.

A spare young man with crooked features has a bound bullet wound on the skull,
a minor contusion on the groin, a bound wound on the abdomen, a bound bullet
wound on the right forearm, and a minor bruise on the abdomen.

He has a chipped .25 bullet lodged in the skull.


<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||   / bleeding>
A small, greasy-haired young man stops using a simple, white, handheld radio.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||   / bleeding>
A cadaverous, stark man exclaims, in a clear, drawn tenor,
   "Get on the radio!"

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||   / bleeding>
You finish your ministrations, stemming the bleeding from the moderate puncture
on your thorax.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||   / bleeding>

A cadaverous, stark man finishes his ministrations, stemming the bleeding
from the minor tear on your right forearm.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
l

Echoed by other radios in the room, a blood-drenched, large, indigo, handheld
receiver carried by a cadaverous, stark man asks, his words clear and
well-enunciated,
   "Anyone listening?"

A messy-haired, muscular male youth kneels down, starting to bind
your wounds, using rags and anything else he can find to do the job.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
A Small Alley Leading from the Market
Exits: north (closed market gate) east

   A small alley, barely wide enough for two to walk side by side, winds its
way from the market. The gate takes up the entire width of the alley, and
electrical cables are festooned across the narrow space just outside of reach,
feeding power from the market to the closest buildings outside of it. The
confined space casts the alley in a permanent gloomy shade.
   You must CALL GATEGUARD to enter the market.

A splintered streetlight illuminates the area. (lit)
A spray-painted faded blue stylized 'NG' marks the wall.
A small Heater shield lies here.
A rough, broad sword with a dog-leather grip lies in the dust.
A bald, sharp nosed man is here.
A cadaverous, stark man settles here.
A messy-haired, muscular male youth is here.
A small, greasy-haired young man is here.
A spare young man with crooked features bleeds heavily by the gate,
blinking slowly., taking cover from the east.
A sandy-haired, milky skinned woman is sitting here, taking cover from the
east.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
stand
A bald, sharp-nosed man slings a filthy small teardrop shield over his
shoulder.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  > You stand up.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
draw chain

A small, greasy-haired young man switches a simple, white, handheld
radio on.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  > You draw a beaten chain from a thick, white sheath.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
scan e
You focus on the eastern horizon . . .

Nearby, Under an Ancient, Faded Billboard, you see...
A strapping, hardened man with ash-blond hair stands here resolute.
A broad-shouldered man with dark features stands here.
Dozens of spent casings blanket the area.
The area is studded with several discharged bullets.
A long-barreled, nicked .25 compact pistol lies here.
A .30 small rifle magazine lies here.
The corpse of a skinny, rough-looking youngster is lying here.

Far away, On a Large, Pitted Parking Lot, you see...
A rusty water pump is here surrounded by a small puddle.

Very far away you see...
Nothing of interest.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
A small, greasy-haired young man shouts in to a simple, white, handheld
radio, in a steady, slightly-accented voice,
   "By the east gate!"
Echoed by other radios in the room, a blood-drenched, large, indigo, handheld
receiver carried by a cadaverous, stark man shouts, in a steady,
slightly-accented voice,
   "By the east gate!"
A bald, sharp-nosed man gets a simple, brown, handheld radio from a
dust-covered, large, thin, blue pack.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
l

A Small Alley Leading from the Market
Exits: north (closed market gate) east

   A small alley, barely wide enough for two to walk side by side, winds its
way from the market. The gate takes up the entire width of the alley, and
electrical cables are festooned across the narrow space just outside of reach,
feeding power from the market to the closest buildings outside of it. The
confined space casts the alley in a permanent gloomy shade.
   You must CALL GATEGUARD to enter the market.

A splintered streetlight illuminates the area. (lit)
A spray-painted faded blue stylized 'NG' marks the wall.
A small Heater shield lies here.
A rough, broad sword with a dog-leather grip lies in the dust.
A bald, sharp nosed man is here.
A cadaverous, stark man settles here.
A messy-haired, muscular male youth is here.
A small, greasy-haired young man is here.
A spare young man with crooked features bleeds heavily by the gate,
blinking slowly., taking cover from the east.
A sandy-haired, milky skinned woman is sitting here, taking cover from the
east.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
A cadaverous, stark man gets a filthy small Heater shield.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
A cadaverous, stark man gets a rough, broad sword with a dog-leather
grip.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
A cadaverous, stark man wields a rough, broad sword with a dog-leather
grip.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
Echoed by other radios in the room, a simple, brown, handheld radio carried
by a bald, sharp-nosed man asks, his words clear and well-enunciated,
   "What's up?"

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
scan e
You focus on the eastern horizon . . .

Nearby, Under an Ancient, Faded Billboard, you see...
A strapping, hardened man with ash-blond hair stands here resolute.
A broad-shouldered man with dark features stands here.
Dozens of spent casings blanket the area.
The area is studded with several discharged bullets.
A long-barreled, nicked .25 compact pistol lies here.
A .30 small rifle magazine lies here.
The corpse of a skinny, rough-looking youngster is lying here.

Far away, On a Large, Pitted Parking Lot, you see...
A rusty water pump is here surrounded by a small puddle.

Very far away you see...
Nothing of interest.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
watch east
Echoed by other radios in the room, a simple, brown, handheld radio carried
by a bald, sharp-nosed man asks, in a vague, whispery sing-song voice,
   "I am at base. Should I stay here?"

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||| > You will now watch the east exit.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
e
You begin walking eastward.
Pain shoots through your thorax as you move.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||| >
A cadaverous, stark man begins walking eastward, with easy steps.
A bald, sharp-nosed man begins walking eastward.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||| >

Under an Ancient, Faded Billboard
Exits: north east west

   The parking lot ends here, enclosed on one side by the crumbling side of an
abandoned building and on the other by the newer wall surrounding the market.
A path leads towards the latter, running under the shadow of an old billboard
with the faded letters P RKING ', TO 8. Graffiti covers every vertical
surface of the area, and generations of garbage have accumulated in holes and
crevices all around.

Dozens of spent casings blanket the area.
The area is studded with several discharged bullets.
A long-barreled, nicked .25 compact pistol lies here.
A .30 small rifle magazine lies here.
The corpse of a skinny, rough-looking youngster is lying here.
A strapping, hardened man with ash-blond hair stands here resolute.
A broad-shouldered man with dark features stands here.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
l strapping

A cadaverous, stark man paces in from the west, with easy steps.
A bald, sharp-nosed man paces in from the west.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >    This flint-faced male cuts a striking presence, despite his lack of any
great height. Dark and saturnine, his eyes are a midnight black across the
entirety, and seem to absorb the gaze of anyone looking into them. A sharp
nose and angular cheekbones define his face in stark strokes, lending this male
a sense of hard features. Stylishly hawked ash blond hair crowns his head,
striking an odd comparison to his wholly dark eyes. Arms thickly bunched with
muscle dangle underneath hulking shoulders. Scarred and callused, his skin
bears an uncommon ruddy hue- tinted as if clay has been brushed and rubbed
across his body.

You detect an overpowering stink of the putrid rot of decaying flesh about him.

A strapping, hardened man with ash-blond hair appears to be in excellent
condition.

<carried in right hand>  a simple, rust red, handheld radio

<worn on head>           a rust red, sturdy beret
<worn over the eyes>     a pair of pitch black-lensed aviators
<worn at neck>           a coarse, natural-hued padded collar
<worn over the body>     a worn, armored, pitch black, deep-cowled greatcoat marked with a red fist
<worn on body>           a rust red sturdy bdus
<across the back>        a large, sturdy, rust red pack
<worn over shoulder>     a small spiked shield
<worn about waist>       a black pocked belt with a red fist buckle
<worn on belt>           a pocked, grey sheath bearing a sword
<worn on legs>           a pair of grey-scaled, thick leggings
<worn on feet>           a pair of thick-treaded-soled, pitch black combat boots

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
l broad
   Despite the boyish appeal of this young man's visage, this man's dark,
chocolate-brown eyes seem to hold wisdom far beyond his youthful years. A dark
shade of hazelnut brown hair crowns his head, the hair cropped short on the
sides and back while given a little length at the front. His brown brows seem
to contour to the bridge of his brow and shade the depths of his dark eyes.
Upon his cheeks and chin, a roguish shadow of a beard can be seen upon his
olive complexion. Somewhat on the taller side, the man's form continues from
broad shoulders and down to a lean frame that seems to lack too much bulk.
With a toned physique, this man's muscular arms hold a pair of calloused hands,
showing he is no stranger to hard work. His longer legs seem to add to his
overall height as he moves with a purposeful gait.

You detect a faint essence of the horrible smell of excrement about him.

A broad-shouldered man with dark features appears to be in excellent condition.

<wielded in right hand>  a worn, primitive, serrated sword with a dog-leather grip
<wielded in left hand>   a makeshift longknife

<worn on head>           a worn, rugged, thick-leather cowl
<worn over the eyes>     a pair of soot black-lensed v-shaped, polarized glasses
<worn over the body>     a night black narrow-lapelled jacket emblazoned with a red fist design
<worn about body>        a rugged, thick-leather jerkin marked with a red fist
<worn on body>           a thin, blood red, round-necked shirt
<across the back>        a large, thick, soot black pack
<worn over shoulder>     a long-barreled, chipped .30 hunting rifle
<worn over shoulder>     a worn small round shield
<worn about waist>       a beige thick belt with a red fist buckle
<worn on legs>           a sturdy pair of night black cargo pants
<worn on feet>           a pair of onyx black thick-treaded-soled combat boots

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
Echoed by other radios in the room, faintly distorted, a simple, brown,
handheld radio carried by a bald, sharp-nosed man speaks, with a faint,
Rust-accented tone,
   "This is Akira, massive gunbattle outside east  zzzzt"

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
A cadaverous, stark man asks, in a clear, drawn tenor,
   "Where did that one man go?"

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
scan n
You focus on the northern horizon . . .

Nearby, A Makeshift Ball Court, you see...
A tall, blue-scarf-masked person is here.
A frail man with grey-toned flesh is here.
A ruddy-cheeked man is sitting here.
A long, metal bench is here, bolted to the floor.
A manon, thin metal doorknob is hidden in a crevice with a load of other
junk !doorknob is hidden in a crevice with a load of other junk. (hidden from
view)
A small heater shield lies here.
The corpse of a lean, wild-haired man is lying here.
Spent casings litter the ground underfoot.

Far away, Corner of a Crumbling Lot, you see...
Nothing of interest.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
A bald, sharp-nosed man murmurs, in a low, drawling tone,
   "Eh...."

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
say No clue.
A cadaverous, stark man begins walking eastward, with easy steps.
A bald, sharp-nosed man begins walking eastward.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
n
You say, in a slick, youthful baritone,
   "No clue."

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  > You begin walking northward.
Pain shoots through your thorax as you move.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >

To the east, you see a bald, sharp-nosed man arrive from the west.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >

A Makeshift Ball Court
Exits: north east south

   The asphalt is in slightly better shape on this stretch of the lot, leading
someone to have set it up as a ball court. Two pairs of old, rusted-through
barrels make up the opposing goals while a few faded and irregularly perforated
lines of paint denote the borders and center of the field. A row of ancient,
mangled benches line one side of the field, some clearly appropriated from
elsewhere, while the wall to the west is covered in all manner of vulgar
graffiti.

A long, metal bench is here, bolted to the floor.
A manon, thin metal doorknob is hidden in a crevice with a load of other
junk !doorknob is hidden in a crevice with a load of other junk. (hidden from
view)
A spray-painted faded blue stylized 'NG' marks the wall.
A small heater shield lies here.
The corpse of a lean, wild-haired man is lying here.
Spent casings litter the ground underfoot.
A tall, blue-scarf-masked person is here.
A frail man with grey-toned flesh is here.
A ruddy-cheeked man is sitting here.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
sheath chain
You sheath a beaten chain in a thick, white sheath.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
bind ruddy

The tall, blue-scarf-masked person gets a black patchwork ammo-belt
from the corpse of a lean, wild-haired man.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  > Stop traveling first.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
l blue
This person's features are not visible.

You detect a faint essence of the horrible smell of excrement about him.

The tall, blue-scarf-masked person appears to be in excellent condition.

<carried in right hand>  a black patchwork ammo-belt bearing magazines

<worn on head>           a grey-scaled, thick cowl
<worn on face>           a wide, blue scarf
<worn over the body>     a blood-drenched pale grey, sturdy, tailed coat
<worn about body>        a grey-scaled, thick hauberk
<worn on body>           a vinyl, grey, v-necked shirt
<across the back>        a bloody, large, coarse, black pack
<worn over shoulder>     a small Heater shield
<worn on arms>           a pair of grey-scaled, thick sleeves
<worn on hands>          a pair of grey half-finger gloves
<worn about waist>       a black thick ammo-belt
<worn on belt>           a bloody, simple, grey, handheld radio
<worn on belt>           a blue, fragile leather-bound slingshot
<worn on legs>           a pair of grey-scaled, thick leggings
<worn on right ankle>    a ratty, black ankle sheath bearing a knife
<worn on left ankle>     a ratty, black ankle sheath bearing a knife
<worn on feet>           a pair of grey-scaled, thick boots

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
The tall, blue-scarf-masked person puts a black patchwork ammo-belt into a bloody, large, coarse, black pack.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
l

A frail man with grey-toned flesh shouts in to a bloody, simple,
pistachio green, handheld radio, with a faint, Rust-accented tone,
   "I'm hit twice, there's two dead....fuck it hurts!"
A bloody, simple, grey, handheld radio carried by the tall,
blue-scarf-masked person shouts, with a faint, Rust-accented tone,
   "I'm hit twice, there's two dead....fuck it hurts!"

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
A Makeshift Ball Court
Exits: north east south

   The asphalt is in slightly better shape on this stretch of the lot, leading
someone to have set it up as a ball court. Two pairs of old, rusted-through
barrels make up the opposing goals while a few faded and irregularly perforated
lines of paint denote the borders and center of the field. A row of ancient,
mangled benches line one side of the field, some clearly appropriated from
elsewhere, while the wall to the west is covered in all manner of vulgar
graffiti.

A long, metal bench is here, bolted to the floor.
A manon, thin metal doorknob is hidden in a crevice with a load of other
junk !doorknob is hidden in a crevice with a load of other junk. (hidden from
view)
A spray-painted faded blue stylized 'NG' marks the wall.
A small heater shield lies here.
The corpse of a lean, wild-haired man is lying here.
Spent casings litter the ground underfoot.
A tall, blue-scarf-masked person is here.
A frail man with grey-toned flesh is here.
A ruddy-cheeked man is sitting here.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
A ruddy-cheeked man clambers on his feet, slowly.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
A frail man with grey-toned flesh begins walking southward.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
l in lean
corpse (here) :
a pair of red-lensed aviators
a blood-covered, armored, green duster-style greatcoat
a dusty well-worn thick backpack with indigo straps
a rough, long-hafted axe
a bloody neon red sleek jacket emblazoned with a yin-yang symbol design
a pair of midnight black shooting gloves
a pair of thick-treaded-soled, black work boots
a bloody thin pair of soot black tailored pants
a blood-covered, black, sturdy cowboy hat
a thin, blood red, band-collared shirt

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
scan e
You focus on the eastern horizon . . .

Nearby, Center of a Rubble-Strewn Parking Lot, you see...
The rusted husk of a ruined vehicle sits here.

Far away, Cracking Pavement of an Ancient Parking Lot, you see...
Nothing of interest.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
scan n
You focus on the northern horizon . . .

Nearby, Corner of a Crumbling Lot, you see...
Nothing of interest.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
draw chain
You draw a beaten chain from a thick, white sheath.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
scan s
You focus on the southern horizon . . .

Nearby, Under an Ancient, Faded Billboard, you see...
A frail man with grey-toned flesh is here.
A hale, dark-haired man is here.
A blue-eyed, lithe man hangs out here.
A scarred, weatherworn young man lurks here.
A cadaverous, stark man settles here.
A strapping, hardened man with ash-blond hair stands here resolute.
Dozens of spent casings blanket the area.
The area is studded with several discharged bullets.
A .30 small rifle magazine lies here.
The corpse of a skinny, rough-looking youngster is lying here.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
l

A Makeshift Ball Court
Exits: north east south

   The asphalt is in slightly better shape on this stretch of the lot, leading
someone to have set it up as a ball court. Two pairs of old, rusted-through
barrels make up the opposing goals while a few faded and irregularly perforated
lines of paint denote the borders and center of the field. A row of ancient,
mangled benches line one side of the field, some clearly appropriated from
elsewhere, while the wall to the west is covered in all manner of vulgar
graffiti.

A long, metal bench is here, bolted to the floor.
A manon, thin metal doorknob is hidden in a crevice with a load of other
junk !doorknob is hidden in a crevice with a load of other junk. (hidden from
view)
A spray-painted faded blue stylized 'NG' marks the wall.
A small heater shield lies here.
The corpse of a lean, wild-haired man is lying here.
Spent casings litter the ground underfoot.
A tall, blue-scarf-masked person is here.
A man with ruddy, nearly blood-colored cheeks stands here.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >
watch south
You will now watch the south exit.

<*****  / ^^^^^  / ||||  >

To the south, you see a sandy-haired, milky skinned woman arrive from the
west.

<*****  / ^^^^^^ / ||||  >
The tall, blue-scarf-masked person gets a blood-covered, armored, green
duster-style greatcoat from the corpse of a lean, wild-haired man.

<*****  / ^^^^^^ / ||||| >
shout Keep your eyes open! Lily an' Riki ran.
You shout,
   "Keep your eyes open! Lily an' Riki ran."

<*****  / ^^^^^^ / ||||| >
The tall, blue-scarf-masked person says,
   "Fuck that he dont need it."

<*****  / ^^^^^^ / ||||| >

To the south, A broad-shouldered man with dark features lifts his chin over
to a lithe man with light-blue eyes..

<*****  / ^^^^^^ / ||||| >
You hear a male voice shout from the south,
   "Spread out, eyes across the car park!"

<*****  / ^^^^^^ / ||||| >
scan e
You focus on the eastern horizon . . .

Nearby, Center of a Rubble-Strewn Parking Lot, you see...
The rusted husk of a ruined vehicle sits here.

Far away, Cracking Pavement of an Ancient Parking Lot, you see...
Nothing of interest.

<*****  / ^^^^^^ / ||||| >
scan n
You focus on the northern horizon . . .

Nearby, Corner of a Crumbling Lot, you see...
Nothing of interest.

<*****  / ^^^^^^ / ||||| >