Ancient Empires - The Rise of Egypt

[Kull]

Saqqara: Clouded Brows

"Oh, this is unpleasant, MOST unpleasant!" Cursing profusely, the rotund balding man took another drink from his leather watersack and then petulantly hurled it to the ground. The unfortunate ex-archer assigned to carry Teti's gear rolled his eyes and stooped to retrieve the latest symbol of his leader's unhappiness. "Horus preserve us, if this is his mood on the day we leave town....." the thought trailed off as the soldier considered the possibilities - none of them good. Ahead, Teti waddled slowly forward, wiping sweat from his brow and casting a disapproving glance at another of his aides, an inattentive ex-spearman-and-now-parasol-carrier. Hardly standard military equipment, the sun-shade was just one more civilian element that encumbered the straggling band of skirmishers. As they continued their slow procession into the Western Desert, more than a few cast longing backward glances at the city vanishing in the shimmering heat behind them.

Following the defeat of the Libyans, the past several seasons had seen nothing but boom times for Saqqara. Although impoverished for generations, Teti's family had always been land-rich, and this had proven most fortuitous. In addition to several tracts of rocky, almost useless desert next to the village, they also owned the best land around the distant oasis to the west. As the construction boom ensued, the "useless desert" had become prime city real estate while the distant oasis soon became accessible by road. Together the rent and sale of these properties translated quickly into profits - vast profits. They were now the richest family in town, and as such quickly grabbed the most powerful and lucrative municipal and religious posts. It was painful now to recall, but at the height of his glory - basking in the warm attention of several beautiful wives and a small crowd of servants and sycophants - Teti suddenly found himself on the receiving end of a lecture from one of the Nomarch's Commanders.

Returning from Memphis and a place of honor in the glorious Dahshur Victory Parade, Unas was passing through Saqqara on his way to rejoin the 1st Skirmishers still recuperating in the newly conquered city to the south. But his visit to Teti was no courtesy call. The Memphis Nome had only two regiments of Skirmishers and more were urgently needed. Thus from the Nomarch's perspective, the primary duty of his governor in Saqqara was to train and deploy a new troop of soldiers as soon as possible. But Teti's reports on their progress had not been encouraging. A constant stream of messengers arrived in Memphis to announce one delay after another - they needed more wood for spears, or obsidian for blades, or food to feed the men. There was always one more reason why the men couldn't be ready, and the Nomarch had grown tired of these evasions. Before Unas departed the capital - arm still sore from the arrow wound but with belly and loins fully sated - there was a brief meeting with the Nomarch that involved quite a few heated words and angry fingers pointed in the direction of Saqqara.

Entering Teti's residence, Unas was amazed - and appalled - by the opulent displays of wealth that lay all around him. The air was permeated by the sweet smell of sandalwood while the halls were long and beautifully painted with adjoining rooms that were either luxurious bed chambers or storerooms packed with great storage jars full of grain and other fruits of the fields. Teti's men - even the servants - were sleek and fat as gorged rats while his wives (or whores, it was impossible to tell one from the other) cast proud, brazen looks at the Nomarch's emissary as he in turn appraised the audience chamber and all within it. For the first time, Unas relished the role he'd been given. "Let's get right to it, Teti. The Nomarch wants to know what happened to his army! As I walked through Saqqara today, there was bustle aplenty and here in this "palace" of yours I see more food, beer, gold, and women than even the Nomarch has in Memphis. But where are the troops?" Teti sputtered in shocked outrage, but his lies were cut short as Unas pulled forth a lion tail and waved it about for all to see. "Yes. You know what this means, don't you Teti? The Nomarch has granted me this talisman that I might act here in his stead. And that means you and I have only one task before us now - training those soldiers!

And so it was. Under the watchful eye of Unas the trainees practiced archery, sparred with spears, and marched and drilled until the aching weakness born of months of sloth had passed from their muscles. All the while Teti scurried about the city procuring every item Unas requested - sandals, cloaks, flint, obsidian, arrow feathers, waterskins - all the equipment needed to sustain a force in the field. Whenever funds ran short, Unas would only say "and yet the demand remains" - forcing Teti to dip into his own accounts (which - truth be told - were bulging with more than a little gold grafted from the Nomarch's troop subsidies). The self-satisfied expression that previously was almost tattooed on Teti's face had long since given way to one that flitted constantly between anger and deep unhappiness. This dark visage was still on display when at last Unas and Teti stood before the newly commissioned 3rd Skirmishers. But even as Unas spoke glowingly to the men of their successful training, welcoming them into the comradeship of armed service, it was apparent to all that the storm on Teti's brow had broken at last. Not that he shared Unas' pleasure in the successful accomplishment of their mission. No, for Teti it was the realization that soon this taskmaster would depart, taking the army with him and good riddance to them all!

So when Unas stopped speaking and clapped Teti on the shoulder, he was rewarded with a rare heartfelt gleaming grin - a rictus that began to fade as Teti realized the speech wasn't quite over. "Soldiers of the 3rd Skirmishers, you now stand ready - poised to begin your first mission. To the West of Saqqara lies a great, unexplored desert. Does it contain new subjects for the Nomarch? Riches for his coffers? Or naught but bandits, scorpions, and snakes? To you will come the answers! And leading you on this quest is a man known to all, appointed by the Nomarch himself, the former governor of Saqqara - Teti!" As a mixture of shock and disappointment filled the faces of Teti and his new command, the opposing end of the emotional spectrum was clearly visible in Unas' sly, spreading smile.

[vovan]

That's some pretty good stuff right there.

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Most excellent and well written, you almost feel like youre there. Great writing!

[Kull]

Pe: The Enemy

It was a perfect spot for a city; there could be no doubt of that. Three small branches of the Nile ensured easy irrigation over a large acreage, and the people here had taken full advantage of it. All around lay fields heavy with the ripening promise of agricultural bounty. Various grains predominated - wheat & millet chief among them - but also there were orchards, melon patches and root crops. Each day a line of women could be seen moving amongst the plants, painstakingly checking each stalk for the brown stains and ragged leaves that bespoke an assault by beetles, locusts, or some other insect pest. At the first sign of damage they would turn and summon one of the small army of children who followed along behind. Soon, tiny eyes and hands would search the plant from root to heavy-laden head, plucking away the offending insects. This practice was beneficial in several ways, as it kept the children occupied and out of mischief while rescuing the crop from further attack and even adding an important protein source to the diet (since many of the insects - locusts in particular - were edible delicacies in their own right). A series of narrow trails passed through this hum of activity, converging upon the large dwellings that dominated the landscape. Here at last stood the City of Pe. Though smaller than Memphis, it was orderly and well suited for defense - in particular due to the formidable earthen glacis that protected it on all sides. This embankment sloped up from the fields to stand 30 hands above the alluvial plain. Armed men patrolled the top - keeping a watchful eye on the surrounding fields and woods - while others stood guard at the single entry into the city, ready at a word to swing shut it's protective wooden gate.

Several mud-spattered men lay in the rushes rising up from the river to the south, watching this activity with keen interest. Following the discovery of the city four suns earlier these men had carefully circled around it, staying away from open ground and sticking to the shelter of woods and marsh. It had been hot, grueling work, but now they knew what they were up against. "This is NOT going to be easy," muttered Mekret. "Surprise is impossible, and even if we had Sekmut's 2nd to assist us - where in the name of Horus IS he, I wonder - an assault upon those walls across an open field can only be disastrous." The man next to him nodded in wordless agreement. When Mekret was Nomarch of Dahshur, Ar-seth had been his chief lieutenant - and was so again, supplanting a native Memphian. Although Mekret had come to love the Memphis Nome and all it's grand possibilities, the people were another matter entirely. Too many Memphians were questioners, always wanting to know the "why" behind his orders, and that was simply infuriating to a man accustomed to blind obedience. And as the ex-Nomarch knew all too well, the disdain was mutual. The haughty southern nobleman was little loved by the Memphis citizenry, few of whom could understand why he had even been allowed to live, much less command the Nomarch's soldiers. So when he chanced upon Ar-seth laboring on a road crew at the outset of his first mission, Mekret gave him both freedom and immediate commanders rank. It had been a strange chance indeed.

Upon entering the Nomarch's service - and true to his promise to Ra-a-Memfes - Mekret promptly took command of the new troop of skirmishers training near Memphis. When soon thereafter a road crew south of Memphis sent word of a strange encampment in the hills, Mekret responded quickly. With no other troops at hand, extra gold was expended to hasten the training, equipping, and commissioning of the 4th Skirmishers, after which Mekret led them swiftly to the south. All of Memphis knew of the impending military action, and in the days that followed rumors spread throughout the city. As always these grew in the telling, so by the time Mekret's troops were spotted marching up from the south, the entire populace already "knew" there had been a great victory over a huge Barbarian Army - complete with great spoil of riches and slaves. But when the 4th Skirmishers passed through the city gates, looking none the worse for wear and leading only a small captive band of pottery makers - the general feeling in the city quickly changed from one of elation to sarcastic amusement. (In the years that followed, the knowledge and skill of these men would greatly enhance the Potter's Craft throughout all of Egypt - a matter of far greater import than a simple military success - but this wasn't realized at the time).

Mekret was already disappointed to be returning without a glorious victory - and his mood darkened further under the brunt of the knowing glances and half-smiles directed his way by many of the populace. Fortunately it didn't have to be endured for long. In the absence of news from Sekmut's 2nd Skirmishers, Mekret's new mission to enter the Delta in search of the city of Red-Crowned King Menes had come as a great relief. But now Pe was found and the Enemy's power confirmed - and once more he would have to return to Memphis empty-handed. The Nomarch would probably understand, but the thought of those grinning crowds was almost more than pride could bear. There had to be some way of returning victorious...surely the gods would not abandon him now! If only he could....but wait....that was the answer - again. Like it or not, Mekret realized that once more his fate lay in the hands of the gods. Ignoring the men around him - and as Ra's great shining orb sank in the western sky - the ex-Nomarch kneeled in the muck and silently cast fervent prayers into the darkening heavens.

The next morning Mekret and his officers rejoined the army in the marshes south of Pe, and marshaled them for the journey out of the Delta and on toward Memphis. With progress slowed by their disappointed and recalcitrant commander, the skirmishers finally crossed the Nile late in the day and made camp between the river and the road - where just before dark they were joined by a caravan traveling down the road toward Memphis. After dining with the troops, Mekret and Ar-Seth joined the travelers around their campfire (it being bad for discipline, after all, for commanders to drink and socialize with their own men). The tradesmen were grateful for the rare opportunity to experience the protection of armed men far from a city, and were happy to share wine and sweetmeats with these soldiers - hard and quiet though they might be. As the merchants relaxed and began the time honored tradition of sharing stories, Mekret was soon drawn to the tales of one man in particular, a short wiry Canaanite engaged in a fierce dispute with one of his fellows. "Say what you will of the fabulous "lands between the rivers" in the far, far east. To my mind it's all flat and boring, much like Egypt. But as for Canaan....now there's a REAL land of milk and honey! We have many rich and bountiful cities, the land is well suited for the growing of grape and grain, our men are young and strong, and the women are beyond compare!" There was more in this vein, and at any other time - in any other place - an Egyptian commander would have recognized it for what it was - the vain boastings of a homesick traveler.

But a desperate drowning man will grasp at any flimsy straw, and for Mekret this seemed very promising. Not that he'd ever been there, but Canaan couldn't be THAT far away....could it? And just like that, the decision made, the commander of the 4th Skirmishers spoke his mind to the only man he trusted in all the world. "This I swear to you Ar-Seth, those Memphians will not laugh at me again. In the morning, go to the Nomarch and say what we have learned of the Great Strength of Menes, that we have seen no sign of that shirker Sekmut, and that even now I am leading the 4th Skirmishers eastward to recruit new allies for the war to come!"

[XarXo]

Who needs buy novels having this forum? :d:

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Brilliant stuff, keep it coming.

[Kull]

Abydos: The Fires of Hell

The placid Nile waters reflected the shimmering image of stars embedded in the body of the goddess Nut - with her great black belly arched high above the earth - while just beyond lay the twinkling earthbound lights of Abydos. There weren't as many now, most winking out one-by-one as the night made it's steady march toward dawn, and these few that remained were most likely the watch fires of sentries. The chirping of crickets dominated the night, occasionally broken by the eerie howling of hyenas and the startled cry of some unlucky creature transitioning suddenly from life to death. There was another sound too, although it was low and muffled and as yet unheard by those who dozed around the dimming lights of Abydos - the quiet sound of sandaled feet traversing the sands, drawing ever closer to the city.

Although pleased by the results of his mission to Saqqara, the satisfaction slowly faded as Unas journeyed southward and his mind turned once more to the regiment recuperating in Dahshur. Leaving his command for a short journey to Memphis and back was one thing, but the additional assignment in Saqqara had kept him away much longer than anticipated. While in Saqqara, and even now on the road south, Unas occasionally met travelers coming up the Nile from Dahshur - and their tales left him more and more concerned about the condition of his men. As it turned out, there was ample reason for worry. During the prolonged absence, Unas' second-in-command had spent the days and nights indulging a taste for beer - and the rest of the army happily followed their new leader's example. In less than a month the 1st Skirmishers had been transformed from the Nomarch's elite into a loose collection of drunken sots. So it was hardly surprising that upon hearing of Unas' sudden arrival in Dahshur, the drunken lieutenant was able to assemble less than half the company for inspection - and his reward for this performance was swift and certain. It had taken Unas a full turn of the moon to restore order, a task that might have lasted longer if the men weren't sobered and motivated by the ever-present stench arising from the rotting corpse of the former reveler-in-chief. Still splayed across the parade ground where he had fallen - the spear in his chest a convenient roost for crows - the deputy commander was now contributing more toward discipline and unit cohesiveness than he'd ever been capable of while alive.

It was a chastened group of men that marched with perfect military precision through the streets of Dahshur, heading south behind their grim, tight-lipped commander. Unas had plenty of reason for concern. Several suns to the south lay a city that had spurned the advances of the Nomarch, and it was the mission of the 1st Skirmishers to "convince" the citizens that their real future lay in joining the Memphis Nome. The journey along the Nile had been uneventful, marked by the unchanging landscape of wide flowing river, darkened bands of fertile soil along each bank, and the desiccated pink desert that lay just beyond the reach of Egyptian irrigation technology. Near a place where the Nile completed a long, barely perceptible bend to the east, the view from a vantage point high in the hills revealed a strange landscape dotted with black pools of pitch. A strange liquid indeed, Unas had seen it used in torches and as a hardening component in bricks - but these people used the substance as part of an old ritual involving the preservation of corpses. Below, several laborers could be seen working the pools - ladling the viscous naphtha into clay-lined baskets strapped to the backs of donkeys. In the distance, a line of these animals could be seen traveling toward a barely perceptible jumble of mud-brick dwellings - the city of Abydos.

Abydos lay just east of a Nile crossing - one of the few along this section of the river - and served as a transit point for all merchants journeying north or south. Defensive strongpoints guarded the western shore of the ford, hindering the chance of a successful attack from that direction. Nevertheless, a few days earlier Unas led the 1st Skirmishers in an ostentatious approach toward the fortifications. Taking cover near some palm trees at the extreme range of their bows, the soldiers conducted a desultory long-range archery assault. This display of ineptitude was concluded - in full view of their opponents - by the sight of Unas trying to inspire his men into conducting a frontal assault upon the enemy position. A few men came tentatively forward - only to abandon the attack in disorder under a hail of arrows - but most either failed to move or simply gave up and raced in full retreat toward the distant hills behind them, completely ignoring Unas' threats and imprecations. By day's end the dispirited 1st Skirmishers could clearly be seen traveling up into the northern hills - returning from whence they came. It had clearly been a major victory for the joyous warriors of Abydos - except for one small detail. The entire assault was conducted in perfect accord with Unas' plan - a carefully orchestrated show designed to deceive the enemy and lull them into complacency!

After the regiment made camp for the night, a small party was tasked with maintaining the cooking fires and otherwise simulating the appearance of a large military force. Meanwhile most of the 1st Skirmishers traveled swiftly along a hillside trail that bypassed Abydos and took them to another crossing just south of the city. The ruse of retreat to the north had clearly worked, since the ford was poorly defended by a few inattentive men huddled around an open campfire. The sleepy guards never knew what hit them, and soon the 1st Skirmishers were crossing the river and heading north toward the lights of Abydos.

Gathering his men in an orchard just south of the city, Unas gave them their orders. The assault was going to be quick and would target a few key religious, civil, and military buildings. Abydos had no wall, and this simplified matters enormously by allowing Unas to divide his men into four groups. The smallest was already heading west, and would wait in ambush between the river forts and the city. Once the clamor of attack arose from Abydos, any attempted relief from the Nile guards would run into a deadly surprise. Of the remaining platoons, two would operate in tandem and take the Nomarch's palace and the main barracks - a pair of buildings facing one another across a narrow plaza. The last group would gain control of the Osiris Temple, a complex of buildings that sprawled along the western edge of Abydos. As with the earlier ruse, the assault went exactly as planned - at first. Unas himself led the first two groups against the palace and barracks. Surprise and luck were with the 1st Skirmishers, and the Nomarch of Abydos was killed within moments of the first clash. Victory over the remaining troops proved quick and clean - too quick in fact. The number of opposing soldiers was far smaller than Unas had expected. With resistance ended, Unas gathered his men and led them toward the Osiris complex - and now the first hint of trouble appeared in the form of, first one, and then several fires beginning to light the night sky above the Temple.

After presiding over his glorious "victory" the day before, the senior commander of the Abydos army had been suddenly stricken by the Gods. While reporting the details of his triumph to the Nomarch, the general suddenly turned red, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he dropped to the ground like a sack of dates - already dead before the final echoes of his collapse had passed from the hall. A bad omen, to say the least! Clearly the Gods were unhappy with this man, and so the Nomarch insisted he be prepared for burial immediately - with all religious ceremonies and interment to occur that very night. The old general had been well respected by his men, and there was great unhappiness over this unseemly haste. Thus most of the Abydos soldiery were present in the Temple of Osiris when a small band of invaders suddenly intruded upon the funerary rites. The benefit of surprise quickly shifted to the warriors of Abydos, and the overwhelmed Memphians were soon being hunted down and dispatched, one by one. In their desperation to escape this trap, several of the 1st Skirmishers grabbed torches from the wall sconces and started fires in the hope of delaying their pursuers. The tactic failed miserably, but did have an unintended side effect - for the Temple of Osiris was a tinderbox. Although constructed largely of mud brick, it was reinforced by wooden braces and many of the walls and doorways were covered by cloth hangings - but worst of all it was the central repository for the city's large store of Naphtha. It didn't take long before the first flames reached this storeroom, and when they did the entire temple exploded upward in a vast fireball! This sacrilege must have truly displeased the Gods, for at that moment the light night air wafting in from the north suddenly freshened and shifted to the west - driving the scorching flames forward, into the heart of the city.

Unas saw the firestorm approaching and tried desperately to rally his men. Of those who panicked and ran to the east - hoping somehow to outrun the flames - not a one was ever seen again. The rest followed Unas south through the streets, retracing their original route into the city. But now their progress was slowed by the appearance of hundreds of panic-stricken citizens flooding from their homes in a desperate attempt to escape the approaching blaze. Unas knew that the afterlife held torment for those proven unworthy in the test of Maat - but he couldn't imagine it to be worse than what he saw and heard that night in the teeming, screaming streets of Abydos. Time has no meaning in the midst of such overwhelming terror and chaos, but eventually he saw an opening between the buildings ahead, and ran through it into the sweetest smelling dampness he had ever experienced (although truly it was a farmer's field like any other). Behind him the fire roared past with a great soul-sucking groan - a sound so terrible it seemed that only some monstrous horned beast could have produced it. Dazed, Unas staggered toward the only familiar landmark - the orchard starting point - and then turned back toward Abydos. For the first time he could see that the entire city was a sea of flame. Anything that could burn was being consumed, and over all hung the sickening stench of charred flesh, the roar and crackle of the burning, and the distant, fading sound of human screams.

For the rest of the night, Unas searched the outlying fields, calling for his men. But few responded to his slowly hoarsening voice. By morning he'd gathered fewer than fifteen men, scarcely a tenth of those who'd accompanied him the night before - and all, including himself, were suffering from extensive burns. The only moment of joy came when the ambush team added their total of ten to his number. Their battle had barely begun when all fighting was halted by the unexpected explosion that ripped apart the Temple of Osiris - men had simply dropped their spears and gazed in horror at the ensuing spectacle, all thoughts of warfare gone from their minds. With the morning came a cessation of the fires, and the first tentative journey into what had once been Abydos - and was now nothing more than a charred shell. Unas hadn't been sent here to destroy this place, and he was profoundly saddened by the extensive destruction and massive loss of life. His hands shaking, mind reeling at the additional thought of so many of his own soldiers gone forever, it took great strength of will to calmly utter the words that had to be spoken. Calling over one of the unwounded men from the ambush team, Unas issued the orders, speaking loudly for all to hear. "Go to the Nomarch and report the news of this tragedy. On the way, tell those at the hill camp to rejoin the few of us that remain. For neither I nor anyone else in the 1st Skirmishers will leave this place. We will not abandon its few remaining citizens now - now when they need us most. There WILL be a city here once again, and the men of Memphis will not leave this spot until that day comes to pass".

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Once again most enjoyable to read, looking forward to the next part.

[Kull]

Memphis: Solstice Celebration

It was quiet now. Not a perfect silence to be sure, but at this late evening hour the remaining noises were those of nature - the kind of normal background hum that Ramesses had known all his life and found perfect for contemplation. Ramesses. That would take some getting used to. As most men aged, the fires of discovery cooled in their breasts - but that truth, like many others, didn't apply to Merneptah! The old buzzard seemed to grow more inventive with each passing moon, and it hadn't taken long before he came up with an entirely new concept for Pictographs. As far as the Nomarch was concerned, the new "Hieroglyphs" still looked like pictures - but instead of one-for-one identifiers, they now represented distinct human voice portions, or "syllables" as Merneptah called them. Thus you could mix and match the hieroglyphs to obtain entire words, and that included concepts like time and distance as opposed to just a listing of items. There were plenty of advantages to this form of symbolism, not least the new ability for the Nomarch to communicate his thoughts entirely via writing to city governors and distant military commanders. The problem for the Nomarch was it took 5 hieroglyphs to spell out his old name, and so Merneptah had suggested slimming it to 2 by using this new pronunciation. Ramesses. Hmmmmph. The Nomarch enjoyed his rare moments of contemplation, but this one was making his head hurt.

Far more pleasant to think of today's celebrations. The solstice was an important event on the Egyptian Calendar. Throughout the year, Ra's journey through the heavens alternately grew longer and then shorter, and no one - even those idiotic chanting priests - really knew why. He hadn't shared this thought with anyone, but the Nomarch suspected it was all related to temperature. In the hot summer days, Ra was happy to be outdoors - hunting, hawking, and driving his chariot. Conversely, during the chilly winter the Sun God was undoubtedly in a hurry to get home for dinner and some warming bedtime bliss with his wives! Whatever the reason, it was a critical point in one of the most important annual cycles governing Egyptian life. The solstice festival celebrated the end of the year - marking the final harvests and the time when all looked forward to the next Nile flood - after which the cycle of planting, tending, and harvesting would continue as it had since the beginning of time. Ramesses grinned briefly at this thought. He'd done plenty of harvesting himself this year. New crops of cities, peoples, and armies had been added to the growing Memphis Nome - but sweetest of all were his children. There were now thirty-two of the little bees (what else to call them? They almost seemed to buzz as they swarmed through the palace each day!) with twelve more arriving this year alone! Children were the greatest Gift the Gods could send, and who knew, perhaps there could be twenty more in the year to come?

Looking up into the dark starry skies, savoring the rich night air, it was impossible not to smile as Ramesses contemplated all that was right with his world. It was good to be the Nomarch! And then his eyes closed and the smile spread all the way to his heart as a waft of sweet perfume added its fragrance to the cool breeze. Soft hands slid though his hair to stroke the scalp beneath, and then moved down to knead the muscles of the Nomarch's neck. He started to turn, but the hands instead became firm - pushing and guiding him to the nearby divan. Lying face down in the cushioned softness, Ramesses felt the clothes being tugged from his body, and then the hands returned - spreading the massage from his neck down to the shoulders, and then lower still. His eyes still shut, half in a dream, the Nomarch could feel himself caressed by other parts of her body - smoother, silkier, and wonderful in every way. Yes, today was a time to celebrate harvests - but tonight the cycle had moved on. His smile now spreading to the tips of every extremity, the Nomarch's contemplation turned once again - dwelling now on delicious thoughts of the sowing to come!

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Ooh er! I say naughty Nomarch.

[Jeremy 2.0]

I haven't posted here for several weeks so I'm a little late to this party.

Kull is one of the best writers I've seen on this forum. I hope to see more from he she or it in the near future.

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Is there any more on this story Kull, its been quite a while since your last post.

I certainly hope to see some more as I have followed this from the start and it is an excellent tale.

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Does noone else want this to continue and has anybody seen Kull, if you do ask him if he has any more for us.

[SKILORD]

I want more.

[DarkCloud]

Does noone else want this to continue and has anybody seen Kull, if you do ask him if he has any more for us

we could, of course, PM him