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Mailing List Logs for ShadowRN

Message no. 1
From: Andrew May <amay@****.UIUC.EDU>
Subject: Dogs
Date: Sun, 9 Apr 1995 09:06:30 CDT
*****PRIVATE: FRT Boss
>>>>>[Hey remember the German Shepard my dad borrowed from
you after its handler was shot? Let me know if you want her
back.]<<<<<
-- Flute (Child / Goddess)
Message no. 2
From: Chickenman <jaimie.nicholson@********.OTAGO.AC.NZ>
Subject: Dogs
Date: Tue, 1 Dec 1998 14:23:39 +1300
*****PRIVATE: Faerie
>>>>>[Fear? You? This is something of a surprise.]<<<<<
-- Lightning <16:42:26/11-30-59>

*****PRIVATE: Lightning
>>>>>[There's a city in NZ called Mangere, just south of the country's
main commercial centre, Auckland. There are mangrove swamps there, covering
a fairly wide area. After a job in Mangere that didn't go quite as planned,
I got chased through a swamp by a pack of chip hounds. This was before I
learnt any levitation magic, so I had to struggle through the mud. They had
similar problems, but they weighed less, so they didn't sink so much. It
was a fucking nightmare, a slow chase, they were gradually gaining on me,
and they wouldn't stop howling, damn if I know why. First one of them
caught up, and I was able to deal with it, then two arrived at once. I had
no area effect spells then, so I had to split a firebolt, and that _sucks_.
It took one of them down, lightly singed the other, which then started
biting me. I was half dead from drain and slogging through the mud, and I
didn't have any firearms on me - different laws over there, you can't get a
permit to carry. So the fucking thing was hanging on my arm, chewing it's
way down to the bone with steel fangs, it hurt like I'd never experienced,
I've still got the scar when I'm in my natural form... I couldn't risk
another spell, I would have collapsed or burst an artery. I had to bury my
arm in the mud, thus forcing the dog to either let go or suffocate. It took
it's damn time deciding, eventually it let go, but I held the fucker down
there until it stopped wriggling. The others were getting closer, so off I
staggered. I got lucky, I found dry ground, and while I was out of the mud
and the dogs were still in it, I had time to get to a tree high enough that
they wouldn't be able to reach me if I climbed it. So up I went. I spent
about two days up in that tree, arm torn open down to the bone, mud and
assorted other filth in the wound. It was a day before I was together
enough to even try to heal it. I had no water or food, except when it
rained once. Down below, the dogs were sitting motionless, looking up at
me, presumably hungry as hell, howling every so often. I was praying,
begging God to help me, save me. He didn't. That's when I lost what little
faith I had as a child. After the second day, they all perked up their
ears, and took off together, into the swamp again. As they struggled away
through the mud, I stayed in my tree. I didn't really believe they had
left. I waited for hours, listening to their howls fade away, then just
waiting, too scared to move. It took the voice of the Goddess to get me out
of that tree and on my way to medical attention. I survived, but dogs... I
_hate_ them. And when I hear them howl, I can't think of anything but the
swamp, and the tree, and holding that dog down in the mud, almost passing
out from pain and exhaustion, while it chewed through my arm, and the
others drew ever closer.]<<<<<
-- Faerie <18:31:55/11-30-59>

Further Reading

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These messages were posted a long time ago on a mailing list far, far away. The copyright to their contents probably lies with the original authors of the individual messages, but since they were published in an electronic forum that anyone could subscribe to, and the logs were available to subscribers and most likely non-subscribers as well, it's felt that re-publishing them here is a kind of public service.

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