category: medievia

medievia GOD people piss me off.

One guess.

“Hi! I just came out of the woodwork to say this. I have one job. It was invented for me so I wouldn’t get fired when you took over my two old jobs and did them far better than I was capable of. The job I have isn’t really a job; it’s the sort of secretarial busywork that would be more efficiently done without the layer of administrative nonsense I represent. Even though my job should require no effort, I suck at it and do it slowly and without skill. But be warned: if you step in and do it for me—faster, better, more accurately—and if I find out about it—I will undo your work and introduce mistakes. Then I will write to people who report to you and point out that I did so, just so you know I’m still here in all my useless, unfireable circus freak glory.”

“P.S. *peer*”

medievia I have never met anyone who cares more about Medievia than this guy.

Dear Ms Wilson

Here is my advice on how to improve life for builders in Medievia:

[1] Make the zonemapping volunary for the builder who can elect a graphics God to do it.
[2] Create a graphics God position for [1]
[3] Continue the restriction of builders to their own zone; learning from other builders is obviously a very sinful thing that doesn’t fit into Mr Krause’s pot-smoking, Philadelphean religion of iron-fisted repression.


What happens to someone who is great at writing but lacks any facility for graphical art? II was that 30 years young guy, Pyraquin, who a year later STILL doesn’t know what the heck your todo meant. You said my zone mapping was “garish”. Well, professional editor, what a subjective term to cook up! But i guess that is typical of you amateurish lot of DIKU licence violators.

Now I build for Tempus and Forsaken Dreams. I have spread the word ever since that Medievia is the worst MUD ever created by Gods who couldn’t run the weekend shopping.

Yours sincerely
Andrew Thornton, Melbourne, Australia

p.s please don’t complain about this email being an “affront” that you “resent”. And enjoy the sucky 1985 TSR classes of Medievia. magic missile! Mage! Cleric! Thief that backstabs! Whoopee do!

medievia It’s obvious I could not have put this better myself

. . . except that I know why “Alan.”

I know my readership, and my readership needs to read this.

medievia Lonesome Electric Chicken


This is just a screencapture. The Medievia window pretty much explains it in full.

medievia Girls can be such morons.

I knew I shouldn’t have read the Medievia Valentine’s messages, but there was one for me from some random clanleader. Then I read one that was for someone else I know:

To: Krandor
From: Zairzyne

As the each day passes, my love for you grows more and more. It’s very hard that we have to be away for so long, but if that’s what it takes to be with you, then I’m up for any challange. I want to say thank you for being my pillar of strength when I felt I couldn’t go on, and my light when the world was dark. I remember when I was told by numerous people to not waste my time with you because you were going to mess my life up. However, you still continue to amaze me by proving everybody wrong time and time again. We have had our ups and downs, and I’m sure there are still more yet to be, but I hold every ounce of faith in us to overcome whatever obsticle is thrown in our path. I love you more than anythin, and am yours until the end of time. Please don’t ever forget that. Our first Valentine’s Day together… Here’s to many more.

“Obsticle” number one: HE’S PURE EVIL.

words This one time, on Medievia,

. . . I wrote some quest auction item descriptions, and the descriptions were so fun and so good. It is the opportunity to do writing like this that keeps me on the game. Really.

This is the lookat on a sword called Hellfire Morningstar.

Blinding light melds with dark fire along an invisible shaft, the
immersion of good within evil and doom within salvation playing out before
your eyes. The first star of the morning shines with a pure light, its
intentions unknown. The fires of Hell beckon you with decadence and
ambition, their intentions clear. Which is the wiser choice?

This is the lookat on a belt called the feathers and skulls of ravens.

Raven feathers are woven into a band large enough to go around your waist,
and the skulls of several of their kind dangle from brass loops at the
front. Ossified beaks and empty sockets of bone clatter together with each
movement, but make no sound; only the memory of noise is there, like a
bird you cannot see until it has already flown away.

This is the lookat on the endless shortsword, a blatant Sandman reference.

Too many images to describe move along the edge of the deadly blade. The
sparkling stone of destiny, the white-gold glow of death, the black velvet
of dreams, the golden dust of destruction long gone, the blood-red heart
of desire, the silvered mirror of despair, and under them all the broken
laugh of delight turned to yearning delirium…

This is the lookat on a cloak called the Fires of the Furies.

The faces of anger, the expressions of strife, the tearing hands of
revenge, the blood of the wronged and the fury of the victors. Winged
harpies’ screeching cries, a filthy river of dust and grime, the blackened
wood of a long-dead fire, the ashen face of innocence lost. All is woven
together into a cloak of burning doubt, a robe of searing regret, the
armor we make for ourselves against that which we know to be true and