Blue sparks flicker and crackle. High above, in the blue sky, an uneven circle of electrical arcs form. Dancing in the slowly growing wind. KarBOOOOOM!!!! An orange mass of scales is thrown violently from the dissipating ball of erratic electrical arcs. The limp orange mass begins a rapid decent towards the earth. A liquid silvers sphere forms and dislodges itself from the wind whipped orange hide. It expands slightly, growing a few inches larger under its gravimetric field. Orbiting around the the falling body, it positions itself underneath the twisting orange mass. It realigns itself to the steadily approaching mass of earth... then reverses fields. The unconscious plummeting orange mass begins to slow. Wind tickles its soft and scaly hide. The ground grows closer, but at a much diminished pace. Cold wind sweeps by its face, brushing the lids of the eyes. They open. Long, dark wings unfurl, catching the wind with a WHOP. Sharp pain surges from his right wing. Reverberating through his slender orange body. The shock causes him to fold in the injured wing. He rolls to the right, unable to level out. The silver sphere struggles vainly. It tries to keep the field centered on the orange shifting mass. Unable to compensate, the body slips from its field. The mass begins an accelerated spinning glide a few hundred meters from the earth. The ground rushes up. While the left wing struggles to control the downward glide, the right wing quivers with pain. Reflexively, he reaches within himself. Deep down to a level where thought and matter meet, damping off his nerve's stimulus response in his right wing. Then, stretching the wing outwards, he forces it to respond. Wind catches on its surface. Rhythmically, it beats down and back, down and back, down. The ground reaches out... Clump! and bats the orange mass of limp scales backwards. The tattered dragon awakes to unfamiliar surroundings. In the near distance a mountainous outcropping looms. The trees are an unfamiliar type. The tang of the air is crisp, but breathable. The sky an odd shade of blue. The ground and mountains contain odd shades of green, grey and brown. Near the mountain is a cave. Near the cave, a monolith of stone sticks up. The wind blows with a gust, stinging his burnt back and raw sides. Yellow ichor seeps from tears in his wings. Sensation of dull and sharp pains flow through his body. One by one, he begins to mend to them. An orange movement startles a squirrel. It rushes chittering up and around a nearby tree. Its tail moving in short burst with its upset chirps. -- A red eye opens. It glances up at the chittering squirrel, slowly shuts and opens again. Small, scaled orange legs push up from the cool brown ground. The squirrel chatters franticly and runs further up the tree. Claws reach out, making dimples in the dirt as the slender orange dragon stretches in the morning light. His muscles are stiff, especially the ones in his right wing. Several still healing burn scars caused by electrical arcs pull his hide tight in places on his back. A bit of thirst helps take his mind off the dull morning aches. He folds his warn wings and begins search around for some water. His pace is leisurely, his stride uneven, with a slightly pronounced limp caused by the previous day's unfortunate landing. It doesn't take him long to find a nearby stream. The smell of the fresh water in the air leads him directly to its burbling flow. Arching his long neck down to the stream bed, he laps up a mouth full of water, lifts his head and lets it run down his throat. His orange body and liquid silver plate on his chest reflects back a distorted image from the slowly flowing waters. A distant loud whaling sound echoes through the morning air. His hears perk up, twisting to locate the source. The sound seems to resinate from the direction of the cave in the mountains he saw earlier....... Orange patterned ears perked, listening. It was an odd sound, but then that wasn't unexpected. Grabbing water in his clawed palms, he splashed it on his scared side. It was cooling and refreshing on his wounds. He bent down and began swashing and bathing in the stream. Water splashed up in the air rolling off his wings. The dirt and grime from his mishap came off, leaving his his orange hide a shade brighter. A torrent of water glistened in the air as he shook himself dry. The warmth of the single yellow sunning the sky was welcoming as he climbed upon the the bank's brush and tall grass to ponder what went wrong. The gate had been in balance when he had entered. Yet the balance had not maintained, the portal had failed to keep its integraty. It had very painfully collapsed here, he thought, feeling the tightness of his scared hide on his back. He mentally reaches out to makes contact the flowing liquid silver on his chest. The silver liquid briefly pauses its analysis of of a green semi-fluid fungus that is moving in microns over a yellow petaled flower. It sends back the information it collected as it passed through the portal, adding on several interesting tidbits about the green fungus it is currently studying. Questions and comments are returned back to it regarding both the fungus and the flower. Intrigued it begins to analyze the structure of the flower, stem and surrounding soil. A gleaming eye glances at a nearby flower for a second, then begins mulling over the information about the collapsed gate. An external interruption of the portal's field had caused it to fail. It had to be caused by something that reached into the basic levels of the universal fabric. The orange dragon sat up on his haunches. He began to reach out with his senses, search the surrounding area for signs of disharmonic energies. >RathKan is flying idlly, chasing clouds shaped like greggils, when - a >portal opens up above him. Before if can react, Therinth and Lance have >poured a bag full of sneezing powder onto his snout. A sensation strikes him like a small hiccup. He senses it somewhere far off to far right right from where he stands. Then it hits him, a wave of disharmonic energy, surging through the air. It disorients him momentarily, then dissipates until he doesn't sense anymore. Standing up and using all four of his scaled limbs, the orange dragon springs over the ground in the direction of occurrence. One of his injured legs still cause him pain. Its limp slows him down. >AAACCCHHHHOOO!!!!! He sneezes, while Therinth and Lance give each other >high fives and disappear. Brush snaps under his claws. Branches slap his sides. Once again he senses a hiccup. Another distorting wave seems to fill the air. He almost stumbles but slows and recovers. The hiccup seemed to come a an area ahead that is blocked from sight by the trees. Ahead of him the tree line opens up into a small clearing. Panting, he stops and looks though the trees scanning the horizon. >The force of RathKan's sneeze blows him down, >almost causing him to crash. Then, facing down, he sneezes again - >AAAAACCCCCHHHHOOOO!!!!! and propells himself backwards. AAAACCCHHHHOOO!! >Now RathKan finds himself rocketing towards the sun! With the trees no longer blocking his sigh, off in the distances he sees an object moving erratically through the air and making a lot of noise. It heads downward momentarily then begins climbing again. Surprize ripples through his body. It looks something like a dragon, flying backwords. Its red wings glint in the sun as it climbs in height. >Suddenly, he disappears. He reappears on top of a huge boulder hanging on for >all he's worth. His claws leave scores in the stone as he sneezes away--but >he doesn't move While watching, the orange dragon feels with his senses a ripple and a small double popping sensation. The red object disappears. He braces himself for the disorienting wave that he expect to follow.... Nothing happens. Odd. With his senses he reaches out again analyzing the area... Nothing, wait, no.. something again a little off to his left. coming from the mountain where the monolith stands. In the distance he feels a week mixture of disharmonic energy waves. Limping, he heads back thorough he woods aways, back to where he can get a good view the mountain again. Branches pass by as he moves through the trees. Noise off to his right causes him to turn his head. A black bird caws twice and takes to the air. A branch, momentarily snagged by his long neck dislodges. It slaps up against the wound on his wing, stinging it. Absently he arches his long tail upwards, then down. the branch snaps under the impact of his barbed tail. The forest begins to thin and the mountain looms in view before him. >A lone speckle in the distant sky seems to be making circle around the >this gath ering place ( the news group ). He scanns the mountian for movement. High above the mountain a motion catches his eye. a distant circling speckle. It nears the mountain it grows larger, circling in a tighter downward glide. With a less surprise than before he notices it to be another dragon gliding through the cloudy sky. Beating its wings it circles lower to the mountains. Its size his huge when brought into comparison with the mountain. The clouds part and the glint of the sun catches on its silver wings, causing a blinding yellow glow to surround it Reflexively, polarized membranes slide over the oranges dragons eyes as he watches the blinding spectacle, dampening down the blinding glare. >After the short blindness, the beast has altered its >flight pattern to head straight for t he gathering area ( the new group >).The beast is in clear sight now, it seems that it is a Silver Dragon >of Young Adult status. He crashes down several miles from the other >dragons, taking several feet of top The large silver dragon like creature disappears from his sight on the far side of the mountain. With a slight limp, the orange dragon begins to head towards the mountain for a better look at what lies beyond... Claws crunch lightly in the dirt and soil. A tail drags ever-so-lightly, swishing back and forth against the earth with each step. A mountain looms nearer. A flowing liquid sliver plate tickles his chest awaking him form his deep thoughts. He acknowledges the tickling and the liquid stops its motion, becoming rigid again. Through the dim evening light the monolith and cave entrance can bee clearly seen by his red eyes. Strangely scribed words are carved into the monolith's cold surface. Words in a language that are unknown to him. Turning his head he looks over the still cave entrance. No motion comes from with in. He can Senses disharmonic energy flowing from several directions within. With the briefest thought his scales dim, matching the surface color of the stone, as he passes through the entrance. Refreshingly earthy sents strike his nose, with them many distinct, but not unpleasant musky scents flow about him. In the stone beneath his paws, many warn paths of claw marks denote trails through the cave. He quietly follows one. Ahead a cavern widens, an organic sent fills the large room. What seem to be odd meats, fruits, vegetables and other organic matter stick to the walls and ceiling, bits cover the floor. The room is empty save for the partially decaying matter scattered about. Not wanting to encounter what caused this chaos he carefully backs away from the cavern. Water drips from the ceiling, and runs down the cavern walls. Empty caverns pass as he searches. Then, in a right passage, sounds. He follows them. Dragons! Their diversely colored scales shimmer in a campfire's light. The cavern had widened out ending in a large woodland clearing on the other side of the mountain. The light of the small bonfire hid immediately caught his attention. With he sounds of the wood crackling and crisp growls, hisses and other noises, noises that he could not understand, but couldn't be mistaken for anything but a conversation between dragons! > Ebony looks about the campfire at the various Dragons listening, >snoozing, and roasting marshmallows. He gets a grin on his face and as >the story pauses, belts out, "Koom ba yah, my Lord, koom ba yah!" >Grinning at the stares this gets, he explains, "Sorry, summer camp >flashback. Pass the marshmallows please." From the sharp sound and seriousness of their faces, the discussion had to be one of deep intellectual value. One stood up, verbalizing to the others in order to make some sort of point. > Fimbrithil remains wide awake, eagerly awaiting the next installment of > Syraubeth's bedtime tale. (Does anybody have a marshmallow?) Then another dragon stands and begins addressing all around. Many listen intently. While all eyes are centered on the new speaker, WindWalker maneuvers away from the cavern entrance and settles down behind some brush, to listen and watch. The speechmaker continues for some time, then abruptly finishes. and lays down near the fire. Another dragon gets up to speak. > Hello all! I noticed the mood of this gathering and I found a > song perfect for it. I added a reverb effect for that 'mystical' sound > and the amp should let me be heard over draconic voices. Some of you may > know this song, and If so, feel free to join in harmony with Reweth, who > will be (telepathically; can't go wrong!) singing the lead... THis is yet > another by that master of folk music, Stan Rogers. Now gather round and > get ready! This is called: "Giant" A mental harmony fills WindWalker's mind. A beautiful but blinding flash of emotions, and foreign concepts and logics. He shields his mind from the rhythmic assault. After a few minutes of rest, he carefully opens his mind, reaching out, grabbing only the emotional harmonic rhythms, screening out the alien concepts and logics. He begins to interpret and understand the emotions being broadcast. >Now, where did I stash that copy of "St. Patrick's Breastplate"? The second >verse has always struck me as very draconic..I promise to post the lyrics >as soon as possible. Anyway, guys, we're definitely on a roll, so just keep >going and we'll join in as best we can. Isn't it a magic to sing with such >friends as these? Emotions of happiness and belonging pass pass amongst the group. Simple emotions easily understood. Reacheing out again, WindWalker begins to study the concepts passing amongst the group's mental rhythms. Some concepts are simple and easy to interpret: names associated with flashes of images, objects common to him and them. He knows understanding the logics associated with the concepts will take much longer. He sits back and listens. >Fimbrithil gratefully accepts the puffy giant marshmallow man, spears it >with the stick (more like a tree branch actually) and begins roasting it. >MMMmmmm....marshmallow (HomerSimpsonesque). Would anyone like to share? >(Beth gets first dibs, of course :) >As for marshmallows... Syraubeth tosses a big, >dragon sized package Fimbrithil's way (which the youngster expertly >catches in mid-flight). All you need to do is ask Just Dragon to breathe >on it if you'd like it well toasted... >snugglehug* X 10000 for you, Lance. Thank you for the rub... I have been >stressed out somethin' AWFUL here at university! But may I interrupt you >for just a sec? WindWalker watches the dragons about the fire. The mental rhythmic communion flowing through the air suddenly stops as one dragon with golden scales motions to the others, getting their attention. >Syraubeth turns around and gives a thankful wink to the >Bronze, stands up on her hunches and says aloud and telepathically: >And to ALL you dragons that might THINK you are left out... WindWaker tilts his head and strains mentally to hear the single voice that currently speaks. His tail twitches slightly on the ground, and his scaled body stretches over the bushes. >GET OVER HERE!!!!!!! Shocked by the sudden mental burst, he shields his mind but falls over collapsing on the brush. His weight snaps several of the branches loudly. His only consolation as several of the dragons at the campfire turn and notice him, is that he was able to roll and land on his paws. The night was lit up with a single fiery glow. Surrounding the flickering light was a great number of dragons. All conversing in languages unknown to him. WindWalker sat watching the burning the logs crackle from his position hidden behind brush, just on the edge of the forest near the campfire. From this distance he could easily hear the gathering of dragons. He stretches his long orange wings quietly and settles in to the soft moss beneath him. With his mind he reaches out gently unintrusively, listening, watching, learning. Hours pass and the night breaks. The rising sun flickers hues of orange on the far horizon. Parting the bushes, WindWalker leaves his woodland cove to join the group of dragons. Speaking the guttural language, & reaching out with his mind to assist in understanding he hisses, "Hello/my greetings, I subsist/be WindWalker. I not to be intrusive/forced upon you, but my curiousity has contracted/gotten/acquired the better of me. I have fallen/pierced/come to this place by/through accident, never in my travels/passage have i seen/met with such diversity of dragons, may I pause/stay a while and observe/note/learn your ways/wise?" The orange dragon having spoke, lowers his scaled neck in an assumed non-hostile manner and waits for a response. >Amondraug >remembers his failed attempt at contacting Windwalker. Something >had went wrong, causing a remote loopback at arsc.edu. Perhaps it >was the portal - but what or /who/ had caused it to lose it's >balance? More importantly, could it happen to /him/ too? He spares >one nervous look around, and starts a strategic withdrawal from the >scene. WindWalker, (who does not yet understand the languages of the other dragons on a.f.d, because he from another plane/dimension) appreciates Amondraug's attempt to contact him. He wants to assure him (even though he can't because he still hasn't officially met any one on a.f.d) that his residence is at kienenber@fdiv.arsc.edu. And he wishes someone would interact with him and his posts so he can officially start meeting other dragons. Hint, hint, plead, plead. >WindWalker, >What an intro! I tried to send you a quick note of welcome but there >appears to be a problem with my server (no surprise there)... WindWalker listens carefully, pulling meaning slowly from a new language. "Thank you/greeting, I would not consider/reason/equate my unbalanced entry/plummet graceful if/in the event that that's to which you credit/refer. As to the welcome, please try/attempt again for I have found/established that my interpreted/actual address equals/is kienenbe@arsc.edu Please post/respond to a.f.d to let me know if that address doesn't work/connect. By the way would you be interested in helping/strengthening me gain/learn/master the language of this area/group of dragons? Some meanings/concepts/ideas/faided words I have not found sounds/langueage/understanding for." >*snugglehugwelcomeandIhopeIdidn'tstartleyoutoomuch!* The blue dragon approaches Windwalker and nuzzles softly up against him in greeting. WindWalker is happy to find that some common elements of communication, at times, remain the same. He he brushes up against the blueish dragon with a return greeting. -- A small breeze flows in the air with the morning's dawn. A small black four wing insect flies across the field upon it. Gusting wind knocks it on to Windwalkers snout. It settles for a minute motionless, than starts crawling to a high point for a take off. A red eye opens. It focuses on the insect crawling on its nose. With a quick exhale the black bug is caught in a strong updraft and lifted into the air. It opens its 4 wings and rides the currents. A red eye closes. The breeze rattles the grasses softly. The silver plate residing upon windwalker's chest watches its subject fly off into the wind. With a general lack of concern, it loudly sends sends off information to the dosing orange form. The information contains tidbits about a silver five legged smaller insect that was living on the black bugs second segment, just under one of the wing joints. Its patten of locomotion was very unique. Especially when used in combination with the two toes on each leg. It also verifies that the sun is nearly overhead and advises that the orange dragon should wake up. It then repeats the information, only a bit louder each time. A red eye opens. WindWalker stretches his stiff wings and body, shaking off the morning dew that has formed on his hide. Then he soundless sends a a message to object on his chest. Looking around he notices the fire ha gone out and most of the dragons have left going about their morning business. The orange dragon pulls himself up off of the ground. Removing the dirt from his side and belly, he heads into the woods to find something edible. After about a half an hour of clawing through an embankment, several nice clumps of sand stone are dislodged along with a few minor bits of gold and other minerals. He munches on a chunk of sandstone, while he heads back to the caverns, nodding his greeting of several dragons he passes. In retrospect he considers what the dragon Dalvenjah mentioned to him earlier, "Magic and energy." Most energies in the magic category were a dangerous thing to mess with. Such large block energies could alter space, mass, and other elements of the universe in seconds. They were not something one messed with unless they understood the specific laws of the "magical" energy used, completely. Typical magics tended to give off disharmonic energies as a by-product. That had been the most likely cause the unbalance and subsequently collapsing of the gate he had been passing through. Reaching out with his senses WindWalker searches the long corridors and caverns for types of "magic." As his senses adjust to the energy, he is momentarily dazed. The energy appears everywhere. It lights up the sold base of the mountain as if it weren't there. Little points flicker on and off. He notices several large emanations that remain fairly constant. He heads towards one of them. Four padded feet with claws patter on the warn stone floor... The cavern he came to was large. It wasn't the most impressive thing before him. Neither was the subarctic wind that was blowing a chill across his orange hide, in a mountain who's caverns held a constant temperature of 60 degrees. It was the floating tunnel of revolving energy before him that held his interests. Sitting on his haunches in front of the swirling vortex, he begins to study it intently. The liquid silver flows from his chest and form into a sphere. It hovers about the portal under its own gravimetic power, lending support to the orange dragon who sits before it scanning the energy portal on pheric level with his senses. After more than a half a day the dragon walks our of the large cavern. The thought of "magic" makes his wing twitch. Magic, hard to study, yet always interesting and dangerous. As magic energy goes, the portal was one of the easier types to study. Its uniform energy flow, that tore at the universal fabrics constantly displacing it moment by moment. So that the normal state of the laws would not hold. WindWalker snapped his whip like tail. Sloppy, compared to the more time consuming balanced methods of molding spatial fabric itself, magic was sloppy, but it was quick. That's why so many used it. In deep thought Windwalker heads back out into the forest. Unknown birds sing in the air. He travels many kilometers into the woods, clouds roll across the sky above him. Bushes brush his side and wings. At last he comes to a mossy area and layers down. For the next day and a half he sits. Consulting with the fluent substance on his chest and working the spatial fabric about him on a pheric level. Slowly he builds up a low energy field around his body to deflect disharmonic energies and wide spectrum magical energies. Then he sleeps. A voice from the air speaks: >You might want to set up a custom header with a "Reply To:" >line in it containing your e-mail address. Most news-servers >and Mail readers have this capacity. Stopping, WindWalker looks around, seeing nothing. Was the voice an imagination? He looks into his memory, just past. No it was there. A hallucination? He mentally reaches out to makes contact the flowing flowing silver on his chest. The silver liquid briefly pauses its analysis of the gas content on the upper section of the corridor. It verifies the acoustical variation of 128Hz emanated from 3 meters ahead, with a phased micro bust of psionic energy. With an addendum that the gas analysis of the corridor gas is not yet complete. Windwalker scratches and itch forming on his wing's surface. Phased psionic energy, he conceders, is mainly used by Incorporeal beings. I could also be caused by other things. Especially in this magic influenced place. "My thanks for the suggestion, if you hear me. I've actually already came across the "Reply To:" and used it I'm my last posts." -- My greeting to you Quelonzia, please accept my apologies on being delayed in my reply to you. My server has not been available for a while. >Just wanted to let you know how much I really enjoy your talespinning >abilities. Why thank you lady Quelonzia you are kind. >You know...that portal reminds me of something I've seen >somewhere, a picture maybe?? Hmmmm...grrrr...brain dead, I guess! Yes, probably so. Images are every where these days. However that portal was not my creation, just something I located in the caverns. I would never create a portal out of such large block "magical" energies, unless there were some considerable need to to so. Because of their abilities to quickly replace and patch the natural universes laws they are discorded/dangerous. If I were to construct a portal I would use the basic elements that compose the universe. For example, you would see an orange dragon, wing folded sitting for hours, in deep concentration with three silver spheres for aid. Each spinning around each other in a circular orbit, helping to weaving the stuff of the universe, with a forth floating still in the center as a focus. The scaled orange would be building/balancing the gate from the common elements about him. Creating such a gateway would take days or weeks. As you may imagine that portal I described in the caverns bares little resemblances to one I would create. >*big grin* Sorry...thanks for the posting, they make one dream... In some places in my journeys, dreams have been more real than substance. I will re-jointh the group once again after I reinstall a news poster. An acquaintance of mine has told me it is your custom in ending such conversations with with you with a *hug* You feel a breeze pass your head as orange wings encircle you, Dream of dragons, Dream of dreams. > Please, don't apologize...I'm in the midst of changing services, myself, > and my own replies may be delayed because of this. :) The orange dragon bows his head deeply, "Understandable." > I am fascinated by your spheres...are they from your realm? Yes, it has come with me through my travels. >They seem such a part of you, and not unnatural at all. I consider this one as if it were my own kin. Unnatural is a relative term, they were not born, and did not grow as living organics, but they have a mind, and they grow in that way as living things do. > I have never used magic > for anything, as I do not trust that which is not given freely by > the elemental spirits of my world, and magic has a...foreign taste, and > the spirit's anger I usually sense increases that taste. Of this I can not agree more, not of foreign taste, but of accepting and making packs with corporal beings, in exchange of services. In my place of origin, "magical energies" are near nonexistence. Very few are born who can manipulate the universal elements. Few creatures there make pacts with corporal beings and do not realize those being often take more than they give, even to death. I have a great dislike for such of their kind in my pace of origin. > Funny...your spheres do not have that taste...and yet I sense no asking, > nor do I sense anger on the part of the spirits...most strange... My spheres were created by what some places I have been would name as science, I believe such a name is used here. They work in harmony with the natural base laws and elements of the universe. When laws demand, they can adapt and change to work different environments, such as I can. > Wrapped in dreams, enfolded in warmth, drifting slowly, returning the > hug gently...smiling... You can feel WindWalkers body reverberation that that of a cat purring, only slower and deeper. >Amondraug suddenly wakes up from restless sleep (Dragons _do_ a lot >of napping, you know;)... As I do also. >Salutations, My greeting returned, Amondraug. >Basically just checking if the other address you gave works, but >as you can see at least Thunderwing has been trying to interact with >Windwalker. I hope others too by now, but meanwhile, welcome and >let us see if you can see this ;) Yes it has made its way to my system. It was down for a while and is back up, I will be joining the group again as soon as I get my news poster up and working. In article <3novv2$7c7@emerald.tufts.edu>, Mara Kaminowitz wrote: >Thunderwing (hendercl@benji.Colorado.EDU) wrote: > > I do not use magic to fly. As another dragon said, I am from >this demention, and in accordance with this demention, I have no inherent >magical powes (although I'm learning bit by bit). Really? I too am a native of this dimension, a native of Earth even. I was born into a human body and became a dragon at the age of 11. If anyone should be without inherent magical powers it should be me. Yet my magic abilities are what I consider to be fairly average. Hmmm..... >I just have very >powerful wings (special muscles maybe) that can get me at high speeds out >of any atmosphere. And for the vast areas of the universe that have no >air, my silver scaleq{ due the rest, utilizing solar wind and >transforming it into a more physical substance for me to fly on. My >scales also absorb the tiniest bit of radiation to fuel the solar wind >process, and deflect the rest. That is about as detailed as I can get. >Like I said, I don't really know why I can do it, I just can. Interesting. > As for teleporting, I believe that's impossible. Because of my >absense of magical power, my molecular structure is not suited for >portals, and I don't think I could last very long in one. One does not need magical power to go through a portal, only to create or open one. If a portal already exists why shouldn't you be able to go through it. In article <3nqrlv$t8i@news.tamu.edu>, Thanatos wrote: >Thunderwing (hendercl@rintintin.Colorado.EDU) wrote: > >: Class dismissed. I will see you all on Monday. > >Zamian rushes to catch Thunderwing before she leaves. "Excuse me Miss >Thunderwing? I was wondering where the guidlines are between a change >in nature and appearance shifting. Is appearance shifting an illusion? Zamian, there are many levels of appearance shifting, from a mere alteration of color to a transformation of one's form. Appearance shifting is not an illusion. An illusion only changes one's perception of an object but you aren't actually changing anything. For example, I cast an illusion on a rock to make it look like food. You could eat the rock and think it really was food, but in reality you ate a rock. I did nothing to change to the rock's actual appearance or form. It is still a rock. Now I suppose advanced illusions can take advantage of polymorphing but I don't really know much about them. >If the body changes physically shouldn't the abilities and nature of the >individual (except for the mental powers and such) change as well?" > >--Zamian the confused bouncer at the pub Yes. When one polymorphs into another body, then that person gains all the abilities, instincts, and characteristics of that body. They of course retain their 'mind', personality, and all of their magic and such. What I mean by a change in nature is a change in the very thing that makes you who and what you are.... to actually _become_ something else. If a dragon were to polymorph into a human in this manner they would in essence no longer be a dragon. Their spirit, soul, nature, or very being (whatever you wish to call it) would become that of a human. Their entire identity would change and they would not be able to polymorph back unless as a human they managed to aquire the magic and skills necessary to do so. That is why Nature shifting (I can't really come up with a better name for it) is so very dangerous. If someone were to accidentially polymorph themselves into some other creature I don't know if I would be able to help them to change back. Polymorphing requires a lot of skill and discipline and that is what I hope to teach in this class. Thunderwing, the teacher *I've gotta stop writing things so late at night, they stop making sense after a while.....* In article , Peter J. Stewart wrote: >: Portals can be created in many ways. Some last forever, and use no life >: force to use. These are very difficult to set up relatively. Some last >: hundreds of years and then destabilize -- these are actually harder than >: the above. Some last a certain number of days. Some last just minutes. > >: However one way the mage can skimp on his costs is to make it a life >: portal. Life portals cost the mage less than 1/3rd the energy to create >: the portal but sap all who use it. This is mainly a nuiscence to >I can wholeheartedly attest to that. It was such a portal that brought me to >Earth. I had no control over it, and it drained my magical energy something >horrible. > Rifts don't do that. They mostly just pick you up, and toss you somewhere. Most awkward part is trying to figure out where you are afterwards. Subject: Re: Campfire From: g95l5159@giraffe.ru.ac.za (MR AP LIVERSAGE), Rhodes University Date: Fri, 5 May 1995 16:39:35 GMT On the 3 May 1995 Wind Walker wrote: >"My greeting, yes please excuse my earlier caution. I've >traveled many journeys and have come to learned knowledge is >essential in dealing with the new." No trouble at all! >>Well, we are all glad that you have decided to visit, sit >>down near the fire and join in...any song requests? Stay as >>long as you want (as long as possible- preferably!) >WindWalker props himself up on a wing. "I must decline your >offer. I'm unfamiliar with the musics of the place. A >question to you, what was the tune you played just then? It >was exceptionally nice." AAHHHH!! Then let me put that another way, would you mind giving us a samlpe of the music from where you come from? It is a song of the joy of life, just a celebration of our existance :) And thankyou for the compliment, but the flattery should be aimed at Reweth and T'rellum! They were the ones, I was but an additive, with my own thoughts. So my friend, what tales do you have to share? NEWS> I am skill in a vriety of insterments of musics, It is unfortuante I do not have them with me. At some time perhapse I will retreave them and play something for this gathering. multipal harmonics flow from WW throt. Deep vibrations mix butifuly with higher meolodies that resound mixing in the air together > >I consider this one as if it were my own kin. Unnatural is a relative > >term, they were not born, and did not grow as living organics, but they > >have a mind, and they grow in that way as living things do. > > I have heard of > such, but never witnessed for myself such living things. of the orbs curiously.> The flowing silver sphere moves back keeping a precise distance from the peering head. > Do they then grow with you? The reflective ball of silver slowly circles around Quelonzia As she continues her conversation with WindWalker. > Do you both increase one another's growth and knowledge? Or is your > growth not that much entwined? They have no growth biologically, but have ways to increase their mass and form. They are of their own, apart from me. We however share our knowledge, journeys and experiences. They combine their experiences. It is hard to answer without precision. All things are entwined about each other. The silver orb returns to WindWalker and hovers near is chest. WindWalker pauses for a moment. Windwalker looks at Quelonzia tilting his head and says, It seems you have it intrigued, It is highly curious about your scales. It has said they collect photons then release them in weaved, alternating patterns throughout your body. > >> I have never used magic for anything, as I do not trust that which is not > given >>freely by the elemental spirits of my world, and magic has > a...foreign taste, > >>and the spirit's anger I usually sense increases that taste. > > > >Of this I can not agree more, not of foreign taste, but of accepting > >and making packs with corporal beings, in exchange of services. > > > >In my place of origin, "magical energies" are near nonexistence. Very > >few are born who can manipulate the universal elements. Few creatures > >there make pacts with corporal beings and do not realize those beings > >often take more than they give, even to death. I have a great dislike > >for such of their kind in my pace of origin. > > > > I share your distaste. I am not easily raised to ire, except by those who > would abuse such forces. Although I have been know to quickly > anger over much subtler forms of cohersion of other beings by those who > think to use them, I try not to let my anger sway my judgment. *sigh* Do > you ever find yourself caught betwixt an injustice and another's freedom? > > Events of similar occurrences have happen to me in my life's span. As each occurrence that happened had its own circumstances, any decision that must be made should be decided according to each occurrences. > > > >My spheres were created by what some places I have been would name as > >science, I believe such a name is used here. They work in harmony with > >the natural base laws and elements of the universe. When laws demand, > >they can adapt and change to work different environments, such as I > >can. > > Science is a wondrous thing indeed, if used wisely. I am saddened that yet > in this lifetime I have seen only part of it used so...so much is squandered > I think. Our places of origin have their similarities, as many places do. This seems to be one common element among our homes, and some other places. > If I did not know better, I would think I had more in > common with your orbs than I originally thought, for we both adapt to our > environments, using the natural elements which are there freely for all. We are not alone in these abilities. > Lonzia smiles, in wonder that all dragons purr, pondering mysteries as her > eyes sleepily open and then close, her own purrs echoing lightly those of > a new friend. Wind walker, is pleased to find such a commonality with Lonzia, and friend ship. -- _-""; - //( ----- () --- _-""""-_ - .--------------------------. - ( ). ) |/ ( - ---- -- ( ),' ; ) .' Fly on the wind.... `. "', " / .(_ -- ----- -- `-__=_-' | \\ .. // \\ .. // | '==~)----'\ \ / \______________ () - --- | \\//\\//ind \\//\\//alker | -- '''''//--( /==""'''''' --- --- `. '' '' '' '' .' o- = w \_-j () --- - --- () -- | kienenbe@fdiv.arsc.edu | -- _---- - //( ----- () --- .--------------------------. - _ -- |/ ( - ---- -- .' Fly on the wind.... `. , / .(_ -- ----- -- | \\ .. // \\ .. // | '==~)----'\ \ / \______________ (| \\//\\//ind \\//\\//alker | -- '''''//--( /==""'''''' --`. '' '' '' '' .' o- = w \_-j () --- - | kienenbe@arsc.edu |