I've been learning a bit of JavaScript - and this is one of the things I've come up with, so far.

Reddit Filter is fairly simple; it allows you to filter out submissions from certain URLs using a regular expression. Want to give it a shot? Follow these brief instructions:

• Install GreaseMonkey - this is a neat little Firefox addon, which allows you to customise the way a webpage is displayed, using JavaScript. There even appears to be a version that works in IE.

• Restart Firefox, then click on this link. You'll get a GreaseMonkey popup, and from there you can install the script.

• You'll need to put your own regular expression into the config section of the script, to match URLs on reddit - to do this, you need to right click on the GreaseMonkey icon on the right hand side of your Firefox status bar, select 'Manage Use Scripts', select 'Reddit Filter' and hit 'Edit'.

• The regular expression should match URLs in the form 'subdomain.domain.com' - essentially the script uses this string for each Reddit submission and matches it against your regex.

• If you're not already familiar with regular expressions, take a look at this guide. The two most important things you need to know is that | is the 'or' operator, and you'll have to escape any special characters you want to include as literals. Special characters include + * . { } [ ] \ / ?

• Here are some examples of regexes you can use to filter certain submissions:

self\.reddit\.com - Self referencing posts

xkcd\.com|barackobama\.com - The lovely websites of xkcd and Barack Obama

.*\.co.uk - All .co.uk addresses

—

Anyway - if anyone wants to use this source code, or improve it, please feel free! As I mentioned, I am new to JavaScript - it works perfectly for me, but if anyone has issues with it I'll be happy to hear.

Enjoy.

Adobe Flash is an incredible tool, and over the past ten years the increasing number of innovations achieved with it have been astounding. Adobe claims that more than 99% of internet users have Flash installed, and with the high proportion of websites which make use of it, it's not difficult to see why.

Flash, however, in a similar manner to Adobe Acrobat, has a tendency to make me seeth with frustration at times - not because of its own shortcomings, but due to the competency of those who use it to create applications, games and websites. Its problem is not one there is an easy solution to - and that problem is the lack of standards upheld by the aforementioned creators of swf files.

Advertisements

Advertising is a necessary evil, certainly. I have no difficulty understanding the fact that much of the web is kept alive with revenue from product placements and spam - but Flash gives advertisers the ability to take this to new extremes.

In the last two years, I have witnessed adverts which obtrusively blare out sound or music without me promting them to. I have had scrolling flash screens sliding into my browser window, either with no way to close them or a cross which serves mainly as a link to pages of yet more adverts. My popup blocker is powerless to stop them.

Is this method of advertising more effective? I doubt it. Many sites make do with inoffensive banners, jpegs, animated gifs at the very worst - which at least stay in the same position without being first asked to. Google uses text-only adverts, and yet is one of the most popular sites on the internet. It's not necessary, I'm sure it drives any valued visitors away, and it's a royal pain in the ass. No matter how many flash adverts I block in Firefox (if you haven't heard of adblock, you're living in an isolated cube; you should probably give it a try) more and more appear daily.

Adverts in Flash can be done well. I don't mind if its animated, but if it's noisy, if it changes shape — hell, if it can't even stay still - whoever made it should be dealt with, preferably by being advertised into submission.

Websites

Websites built in Flash only get a small mention here, because in actuality they're far less frequent than they used to be. Why are they irritating? They look nice enough, most of the time. But they don't follow the few simple rules which make browsing the web easy. There's often no coherent hierarchy of pages. The back and forward functions are useless, since the whole page is one file. And in the vast majority of cases, users can kiss goodbye to copying any text.

I had a quick look for an example of a Flash based website, and found Muse.mu, the band Muse's official page. The first thing to happen? My browser stopped responding. Nice.

Videos

These are, without a doubt, my single biggest source of annoyance. When the Pandora's Box of Flash-based video streaming was opened, the concept was quickly popularised by sites such as YouTube and Google Video. The idea was fantastic - nobody likes to download entire videos, so watching them from a browser window seems ideal. What's the problem? The execution, the way flash video streaming has evolved - frankly, it sucks.

Firstly, there is the quality. Certainly not everyone in the world has the bandwidth needed for high resolution videos; but the vast majority of flash video platforms only ever seem to cater for the underdogs in this regard. Instead of providing choices of resolution, we are left for the most part with either a hastily compressed, tiny FLV with more pixelation than Crysis on a Pentium-II, or nothing at all. It doesn't look good in full screen, it doesn't look good in the thimble sized area of the screen it is designed to fill. It doesn't look good at all.

Feature wise, the majority of flash-video frontends are nothing short of appaling. YouTube's seek-bar seems to only allow you to skip intervals of ten pixels in one go, and aside from that the choice of controls is limited to play, pause, and volume. Google video, for some bizarre reason, recently dropped a feature which allowed you to choose the section at which the video began buffering - I was recently watching a documentary, and after ten minutes decided to switch to full screen. The video restarted itself (again I have little idea why) and I was forced to wait to load much of the video I had already seen.

To appreciate just how better the alternatives are, take the trailer for Call of Duty 4. One is on Stage6, using the DivX standard, one is on Youtube. Try viewing them both in full screen.

—

What Flash users need are better standards, and restrictions on adverts. Specifically with regards to the first point, a standardised open-source Flash video player would be ideal. One which allows greater qualities and resolutions of videos, fast-forwarding, ease of use without over simplification. If sites like YouTube do not make an effort to improve, superior alternatives with higher standards, like Stage6, will always be a preferable alternative.

Something which has been running around in my head of late.

Firstly, I asked myself, if I was given the choice of living indefinitely would I take it? Certainly I would.

In popular media immortality is presented as a double edged sword - the allure of everlasting life, versus the inability to end it when life becomes a pain. I would have to think more carefully about that; but if humanity is to develop a means to indefinite life, it will most likely be without that second clause. So yes, I would do it.

But how? What conceivable ways could a human retain life forever?

A number of possibilities present themselves. The first is simply medicine and lifestyle; in the last millenium - even in the last two hundred years, the expected human lifespan in developed countries has skyrocketed, mainly due to increased knowledge of health, wellbeing, and the ability to target diseases with increasingly complex medical ideas and technology. Some would say this is only a temporary solution - nothing can stop the mind from deteriorating, the body's organs from failing after so many years. But what about when science is able to synthetically replicate organs, or when nanotechnology is able to repair and replace broken neurons in the brain? Once the human body is fully understood (and there is no natural law to prevent this) such procedures will enable humans to far surpass their current lifespans.

The second, and in my opinion far more intriguing possibility, is replicating the brain in a vast future computer system, and transferring human consciences to such a brain. I've discussed the idea before, and oddly it was brought back into my mind when I re-watched parts of the Battlestar Galactica remake. In this series, the cylons (human replicants) are able to transmit their consciences to a 'resurrection ship' when they die, where they are reborn. Aside from some of the obvious difficulties of this, the idea is fascinating. The concept of a conscious mind is a difficult one to understand - but even if we copy the physical structure exactly, even if we meticulously replicate memories, ideas, thoughts - is it the same person who is resurrected?

Imagine that moments before you die, a copy of everything that makes up your mind is copied to a new host body, identical to your own. Do you become that person? They certainly become you; they are aware of waking after having just been about to die, but in the mean time, you will simply die. It is beneficial for them, but not for you - or so the current ideas about consciousness would lead us to believe.

How can this problem be overcome? Essentially this method of immortality is as superficial as creating a clone, for one party still has to die; their own personal conscience comes to an end, no matter how perfect the copy. What needs to be done is for the conscience to be preserved. Imagine if a nano-robot was to replace each neuron in your brain, one by one, with an identical synthetic one, afterwards transferring the brain to a synthetic, mechanical body. The brain is not immediately replaced, nor is it destroyed: the host remains conscious, and they are essentially turned into a living machine. The idea has its merits - immortality certainly being one of them. What if such a mind was adapted, again artificially, to experience new senses beyond the limits of the human body? The ability to see the infrared area of the spectrum, or hear frequencies beyond the range of human ears.

Would I volunteer to do this?

I wouldn't think twice about saying yes.

Google has surprised me again. I've always known you can search for 'Speed of Light' and before the results google will give you the answer. But it turns out you can enter pretty much any equation and be given the result straight off:

It gets better: if you use Firefox 2 or have the Google toolbar, it's likely that the version of the google search bar you have will give you a set of suggested results when you begin typing. Try typing in an equation, and it spits out the result:

They've even written in conversions. Try the following:

• Speed of sound in au per millenium
• Speed of light in zeptometres per nanosecond
• Miles in megametres
• Stones in petagrams

I love Google. I have a Physics exam in two weeks time, oh how I wish my calculator could automate things like this.

There are a number of people to blame for this:

• The spambot coders. Really, there has to be a better way to make a living. What if you had a 'quality content' bot instead?

• The idiots that click on the links. You're not going to see Britney Speeaarz Expozed, so why bother!?

• Those damned celebrities.

I always figure targetting a problem at its source is the best way of solving it, so listen up. If you're a celebrity, and you're reading this, please start wearing a woolly jumper, and some kind of reflective anti camera-flash coating. Stay indoors - in fact, stay indoors in general, you have no purpose to begin with without junking up forums on the side. Change your name. Stop being vaguely attractive. And God damn it, stop exposing yourselves in public.

You've read Daniel's article on becoming a coder, you've had a look at PHP/Python, and maybe even written some programs. Now you've decided to move on and create some nifty code that uses a GUI, with menus, buttons, and all the other things that users expect. Using Python or PHP this can be done, but with rather a lot of difficulty. (See here for creating GUIs in Python, and here for PHP)

In my opinion, a much better solution, especially for Windows developers, is to use Microsoft's C# (pronounced as C-Sharp) language. You can download Visual Studio Express 2008 C# edition here for free, a complete C# Integrated Development Environment, with an easy-to-use form editor and a nice code editor. Also in the install program is the option to install SQL Server Express, a database server that works well with C#. SQL Server is a nice addition to have, if you decide to do some programs with databases, but be wary that it is an additional ~30mb to download.

Once you have installed and started Visual Studio, open the example programs it came with, and familiarise yourself with the development environment. Each of the projects has a help file, with some tasks to do. Read these, run the programs, and try making some modifications. I find the language of C# to be fairly simple, but if you come from a Python background then the code may well look horrible. Unlike in Python, white space does absolutely nothing. You could write your whole program on one line, if you were that way inclined. Each line of code must end with a semi-colon. Also, make sure you understand how “for” statements work in C#. Unlike in Python, where you would write something like “for i in array”, C#'s for statement operates as follows: for (statement1, condition, statement2)
e.g.

for (int i =0; i<5; i++)
{
DoStuff(somearray[i]);
}

If you want to use a more Python-like loop, then you can do this:

foreach (string s in somestrings)
{
DoStuff(s);
}

The most important thing to remember is that in C#, every variable must be defined with a type, and that type cannot change.

Hopefully, from what you already know of programming and with the information you can find on the internet (such as on the MSDN Library, you should be able to quickly pick up the C# language and create wonderful programs.

If you have any questions, e-mail me, but bear in mind that I have never used Visual Studio 2008 (I have 2005, and 2008 has only just been released), or C# 3.0, so if your query is on anything to do with the new features please don't send it. Google, and the MSDN forums are your friends there.

"We use a special alphabet of our own" describes the lama. So how many characters are they using? Their limit on the length of the names is nine characters - so if we assume they plan to use words of any length up to nine characters, the number of possible names can be expressed as

Where A is the number of characters in their alphabet.

So, assuming 1 billion is 10^12:

• When A=26, the number of possible names is 5.65 billion
• When A=27, the number of possible names is 7.92 billion
• When A=28, the number of possible names is 10.97 billion

Obviously none of these results can be rounded to the nearest billion, to give nine billion. Even if we assume Clarke means only names that are nine characters long (the number of which could be expressed as A^9), we are still left with no results which round to nine billion.

Obviously given that we lack the exact alphabet used, it is impossible to reproduce the exact process described - but what if we were to try the same in Python, using our own alphabet?

alphabet = tuple('abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz')

def names(length, prefix=''):
_for char in alphabet:
__print prefix + char
__if length - 1:
___names(length - 1, prefix + char)

To test this process, I used an alphabet consisting of 'a' and 'b', with a maximum word length of two characters. And it appeared to work:

a
aa
aaa
aab
ab
aba
abb
b
ba
baa
bab
bb
bba
bbb

I ran a full 26 word alphabet with a maximum word length of nine characters for ten minutes. It reached 'aaaaajjnk'.

At the end of Clarke's story, the machine finishes its task, and the stars are described as going out, one by one.

Anyone care to try?

My last article detailed how to write a very simple mod for Counter Strike Source servers; here, I plan to go into more detail. I will assume basic knowledge of Python, and an understanding of how to create a simple addon on your source server - essentially I plan to discuss Eventscripts' API and features.

Userids

Each player that joins a server is allocated a unique user id. This userid is used as a key to identify users, and a given e player's name, steamid, health — almost any information on that player — will be available using their userid. For example, to find a player's name, one might simply use the 'getplayername' method of the es module:

es.getplayername(userid)

Es

Importing this module is crucial to displaying any kind of output on your server, and registering the events in your addon. Es contains methods which can be used to:

• Display text or a menu on a player's screen
• Send shell commands to the server console
• Create visual effects
• Affect the player (e.g. change their position/view)

And a whole load more. Detailed documentation for each of the methods of es can be found here.

import es

Events

Events are almost crucial to achieving anything with Valve's source engine. In the majority of cases, events are where you will get your inputs, whether it is:

• User inputs (e.g. Console commands, chat messages, menu key-presses)
• Actions the player performs (e.g. jumping, shooting, taking damage etc)
• Important checkpoints in the game's progress (e.g. Map start, round start, bomb planted)

Events are registered simply by creating a function in your script with the specific name of the event you wish to hook. All of the available events are documented here)

These functions take one argument; traditionally named 'event_var', this is a variable which will store a dictionary containing details about the event when it is called. For example, the key 'player_name' will return the name of the player who the event is called by - if the event is player specific.

def player_spawn(event_var):
..es.tell(event_var['userid'], 'Hello, world')

An Example Addon

As an example of a very basic addon, the following script logs the number of times a player says anything in chat, in a given session, and returns this value to them when they type 'stats'.

import es

stats = {}

def player_connect(event_var):
..stats[event_var['userid']] = 0

def player_say(event_var):
..userid = event_var['userid']
..if event_var['text'] == 'stats':
....es.tell(userid, 'You have sent ' + str(stats[userid]) + ' messages during this session'
..else:
....global stats
....stats[userid] += 1

Docs

Once you've got to grips with the basics described above, the rest is simple to pick up. All of the documentation you could possibly need can be located in the following places:

http://eventscripts.com/

http://python.eventscripts.com/

http://forums.mattie.info/

http://addons.eventscripts.com/

It surprises me that there is not more fraud on the internet. In fact, it's enough to give a renewed faith in the majority people that run their own websites.

I'm a student, and in my spare time I do some web design, and some coding - among other things. I'd consider myself fairly adept at languages like PHP and Python, and during the past few years I've written a few proof-of-concept ideas that require users to create an account, and afterwards log in.

When most people think of internet fraud, they imagine hackers in darkened rooms logging passwords, and using them to steal bank details. Perhaps this does happen, even if t's rarely heard of. What I find surprisingly uncommon, though, is people's passwords being logged simply by the owners of the sites that they visit.

Consider this. If you were to create an account on this site, or for that matter almost any other website, it would be child's play for the webmaster of that site (in the case of BlueSunCorp that would be myself or Richard) to retrieve the password you use, and the email associated with it. Obviously I'm not going to do that, but imagine what I could do with those details:

• Deny you access to your email
• Reset account passwords on practically any other site you've signed up for - given that most sites send a randomly generated password to your email when you ask them to
• Log into Paypal and other online banking systems. Paypal at the very least uses your email address as a login, so if you have one password which fits all, this would be like robbing candy from a baby
• Wreak general havoc in your name

Essentially, I would practically have the power to steal your online identity, and given the scale of some individual's presences across the internet (myself included), the implications for this would be fairly massive, on a personal level.

The solution? At the very least, have a different password for your email account. That's it. Your email account, along with the associated password, is the quickest gateway for accessing most of your online data, and it's a scary thought. So keep it safe from sites you're not totally sure about.

This isn't meant as a scare-story, or a reason to avoid signing up to sites. It's just a warning; if you imagine what your email addresses password can anable people to do, do you really want it in anyone's database?

Last wednesday I ordered a new laptop. I'll definitely be installing Vista on it, if only for gaming and DirectX 10, but I also plan to use it as an excuse to get to grips with Linux. I've read many accounts of the various distributions of Linux, and they all agree on a few things:

• It's massively more stable than Windows
• There are so few viruses, they're not even worth worrying about
• It's fast

I've used Windows all my life, 3.1 followed by 95, 98, 2000 and now XP, and I'd describe myself as fairly competent at working with it: so anyway, this would be a pretty new experience for me. A few years ago I'd installed Fedora Core 4, and I wasn't impressed a great deal, but this time I decided to go with Ubuntu. This distribution, from what I've read, seems to be fast entering the realms of user-friendly for those with no experience of Linux - that is, it would hopefully be less like jumping in at the deep end and hoping to surface. Ubuntu's apparent popularity among those looking for a place to start in looking for a Linux based alternative to Windows, made it seem like an increasingly good place to start.

So I did. Why wait for the laptop to arrive? I cleared up some space on my pc's second hard drive, downloaded the latest Ubuntu release, and gave it a go. This is my account of it, as a completely new user.

Installation

Ubuntu has surpassed Windows in almost every way when it comes to installing. I booted from the disk, expecting to be greeted with text-based formatting options - instead, I was taken straight away to a fully functioning desktop. I could browse the internet, play tetris, do practically anything, while at the same time running the wizard to install the operating system; I didn't need a SATA driver floppy-disk, a serial number, anything. Installing this system could - quite literally - be done by a child.

Booting Up

The first thing I noticed was, it was fast. Even on a fresh Windows install, my system seems to take an age to boot up, but Ubuntu loaded in the blink of an eye. Once I was on my desktop, I didn't need to wait for the hard drive to stop churning away as it does with XP, before I could even think of opening Firefox. As soon as the desktop appeared, I was free to do anything.

Hardware

I have a bubble-jet printer, a gamepad, a scanner, a usb keyboard and mouse. And I didn't have to install a driver for one of them. They just worked, straight out of the box.

The only driver installation I actually had to give the thumbs up for was newer graphics drivers, in order to use advanced desktop effects - but this was simply a matter of pressing 'continue' when presented with the option, and rebooting.

And that was it. No nightmares with unrecognised hardware, no compiling drivers or fumbling around with a terminal; Ubuntu appeared to do everything for me. I have fairly bog-standard peripherals, but I was still pleasantly surprised that it was so easy.

Software

For the average user, Ubuntu appears to come with everything you need straight out of the box. A browser, an office suite, imaging software … when I did need extra software, it was simply a matter of loading up the synaptic package manager and searching for what I wanted; Ubuntu then proceeded to install it and configure all of its dependencies automatically.

Desktop

Ubuntu groups all of your programs into categories, rather than just dumping them all in the start menu; you actually initially get a top and bottom bar, which unlike Windows' start menu, are infinitely customisable. One thing which really works well is the multiple desktop feature; with a keypress you can open an entirely new, empty desktop, and quickly switch between them, making it even easier to multitask.

One thing I've been playing with from the package manager is Compiz. The built in version is nice enough, giving you some effects and features which become old fairly quickly - but with an update to Compiz-Fusion, you get the works. A multi-faced three dimensional desktop, an alt-tabbing system which cycles you through a dynamic thumbnail of each available window, a seemingly infinite level of zooming-in — the list is huge, and the fact that you can easily upgrade Compiz with plugins means it can be potentially massive.

Emulation

During my time using Ubuntu I attempted to use WINE to emulate two windows programs. I had varied results; the first was CPS3, an emulator I use to run Street Fighter III - this worked initially, with some minor resize problems, but later it refused to load, causing Wine to stop responding. The second was Commandos - the original Win 95 game. In fairness, this refused even to load in XP, with or without compatibility mode, so I expected very little from a Windows emulator - however, it seemed to install and run almost perfectly, the only issue being some slight added speed. Unfortunately, this also seemed to stop working after a few days - without any changes made to Wine. This time, it claimed that it could not find DirectX 5.

How I did eventually get Commandos working - and it wasn't under Linux - is a different story.

Issues

The only issues I had with Ubuntu were probably caused by my own mistakes. That's one piece of advice I'd give - unless you're sure what you're doing with the terminal, use alternatives wherever possible. I attempted to follow a guide to enable the side-buttons on my mouse, and despite following the directions to the word, ended up in 'low-graphics' mode, which I couldn't even fix with a driver update or re-install.

Another problem I've had is with my browser taking me to google.co.uk or bbc.co.uk whatever I attempt to view, until I reboot the machine. I've yet to attempt to solve this one, though, as it's only happened once or twice during the past few days.

Verdict

I'm definitely going to stick with it. The impression I definitely get is that although it may not be the best OS for gaming - or, the limited retro gaming I've tried so far - it certainly beats Windows in terms of speed, reliability and aesthetics. There seemed to be open source software for everything I needed to do, and I didn't have to compile or manually install once.

If you've been avoiding Linux for the 'gurus-only' stereotype, now may be a good time to try a distribution like Ubuntu. It's not perfect quite yet - but it's a damned good alternative to Windows, at any rate.

Here are a few handy tips and tricks, for those who are fairly new to Python.

while True:

Generally you'll come across many situations which involve variable assignment, followed by a while loop which performs any number of operations on this variable. For example:

You want to generate random numbers between 1 and 10, and stop when this number is odd, printing the number you get.

myvar = random.randint(1, 10)
while not (myvar % 2) == 1:
..myvar = random.randint(1, 10)
print myvar

This isn't very maintainable code - what if you later decided the range should be 1-100? You would have to edit two sections of your code.

Since Python doesn't support variable assignment within conditional statements, which some would argue is the most elegant solution, the most appropriate method to use here is as follows:

while True:
..myvar = random.randint(1, 10)
..if (myvar % 2) == 1: break
print myvar

Conditions

When writing conditions, I often see people trying to write:

if myvar == 0:
..

and

if bool(myvar) == True:
..

This is entirely unnecessary. Python takes most datatypes as either true or false to begin with, so it's actually much simpler - and easier to follow - to just use:

if myvar:
..

What counts as False?

• Integer 0
• Empty Strings
• Empty Lists/Tuples
• None

Single line conditions

When you've only got one line of code to execute after a condition, it's often faster to type it directly after the colon, rather than using a new line and indenting:

if myvar == 5: print 'hello world!'

Obviously, whether you consider this more or less readable is up to you. Hint - this also works perfectly for defining functions.

Ternary Operation

You might be familiar with seeing these written as follows:
condition ? value-if-true : value-if-false

Many people like to use dictionaries or and/or to simulate ternary operators in Python, but neither of these methods is completely safe from error. Far better to use the built in method:

value-if-true if-condition else value if-false

For example:

'Pi equals 3.15' if math.pi == 3.14 else '3.14 ain't approximate enough'

I read a great page today, detailing several ideas for how computing power - and artificial intelligence - will advance. Some of the concepts Eliezer S. Yudkowsky explores here are flat out fascinating - so much so that I've written about a few of them, if you're interested in a synopsis of some of the things he has to say.

Computing Speed

"If computing speed is doubling every two years," he states, "What happens when computers are doing the research?"

This idea is central to the article; it's beatifully simple and makes a surprising amount of sense. The premise is this: one day, we can assume computers will be capable of processing powers similar to the human brain. What if, then, there was a way to let the computers themselves research their own development? To begin with, they will - theoretically - do this at the same rate we do, given similar ability. They will take two years' subjective time, to double their own intelligence. But in doing this, they become doubly as capable, and as a result two years of their subjective time is shortened to the space of one year of ours. The process repeats, the time becoming smaller and smaller, and eventually they reach a singularity of intelligence.

This has its flaws - for a start, no computer has yet been built with the potential to further its own ability, or power. This also ignores a possible physical limit to the amount of possible computing power - though with the rise of quantum computing, these theoretical limits are being pushed back further, continuously. This continually self improving artificial intelligence, asserts Yudkowsky, whether it is desirable or not, is certainly inevitable, and the natural progression for any intelligent species.

—

To assert my own opinion here, the idea of artificial intelligence is one that I am sceptical of, but only with regards to present computers. At the present day, computers are designed to take inputs and give outputs; their reactions, if you discount the layers of abstraction which allow more and more complex things to be achieved with computers, are entirely predictable. The only feasable method I could imagine for an artifical intelligence would be one that was allowed to develop itself from scratch. Perhaps an accelerated version of the natural selection we see in nature, with a built in tendency for mutation? The type of computers within which AI will evolve, in my opinion, will be vastly different from those designed today.

Humans as Machines

Although this particular point seems far fetched at a first glance, it's actually a very interesting and compelling idea. What if, Yudkowsky asks, we develop sufficient nanotech to synthesise and replicate individual neurons? If, say, we were to contstruct a nano-robot capable of scanning each individual neuron in the human brain, replacing each one at a time with a perfect artificial copy. Certainly, we would not be aware of any change, and our brains would continue to function in exactly the same way. So at what point do we stop becoming human?

To extend this argument, when it is possible to create and replace every element of the human body, when a human is entirely replaced by nanotech, will we have discovered the secret to life itself? Or will we have simply turned a human into a computer?

—

I only hope that if such technology does become possible, which given human advancement over the past few hundred years seems infinitely likely, I will be there to see it.

To some, the prospect of eternal life is an enticing fate, and many believe that they can achieve this with cryogenics, or cryonics to be accurate. I’ve always viewed cryonics with an intense pessimism, but I’ve become a lot more open towards it after reading several studies about the success that has been achieved in preserving the brain. However, it is still reliant on ‘future medicine’ to repair or replace the damage that your body has suffered in your ‘first life’. There are even efforts within the cryogenic community to make it more accessible to the common person, with cheaper plans available if you only want to freeze your head (Neuropreservation). This is especially appealing as ‘future science’ will undoubtably be able to provide you with a perfect new body. Perhaps this is a sensible idea though, it is much cheaper, and the process of freezing can irreparably damage much of the body.

Perhaps if my life was going to be cut short by dying young I could be enticed into spending large amounts of money trying to freeze myself, after all these people purely desire a full life, but it is the people who just want more that bother me. Disregarding any ethical issues (be it the soul, your identity, or whether this ‘future society’ will still care about you enough to reanimate you) it's just greed. Or maybe they are just afraid of death. You need to be legally dead to be frozen, so if ever cryonics is successful, then mankind will have discovered a ‘cure’ for death. That still does not mean eternal life though, and they will all have to face death someday.

Perhaps I am wrong. Maybe in 30 years, when I am getting older, Cryonics will evolve into a realistic way to extend your life. I still foresee problems. Unless Humankind spreads out a bit more, and I am equally pessimistic about the prospect of colonies on other planets (not for a long time at least) I can’t see any future society rushing to revive the hoards of people who want a second go at life.

The Cryonics institute, http://www.cryonics.org/reprise.html, seeks to answer many of the questions I have raised. Here are some extracts from their answer to the question “What happens to the soul of a cryonics patient?”

Many cryonicists do believe in a soul. If cryonics is simply an unproven medical procedure there is no more reason to believe that the soul goes away during cryopreservation than during a night's sleep.

Does this therefore mean that the soul does not leave the body when it dies? So, at what point does the soul leave the body? These patients have died. They are not sleeping.

Cryonics is not in conflict with religion any more than medicine is in conflict with religion.

Maybe from their point of view. To me, resurrection of the dead gives new meaning to ‘playing god’.

Cryonics patients are not regarded as dead by cryonicists.

So, even though they are legally dead…

How long can future medicine potentially extend human life? Perhaps by hundreds or thousands of years or more. Plans of an omniscient God would not likely be thwarted by human efforts to extend human life hundreds or thousands of years. Hundreds or thousands of years is not a significant amount of time in the context of eternity.

Am I the only person not tempted by the prospect of living for thousands of years? I can barely make it through Monday without wanting to end it all. Thousands of years? The final point that they make, however;

To refuse new life extension technologies could be a sin comparable to suicide.

Bullshit. Are they seriously inferring that not being cryogenically frozen is a sin? What narcissistic crap. I honestly cannot believe that they would say something like that, and it appals me.

Buy from Amazon

This is hailed to be the single worst fantasy novella in existence; the challenge is, if you can read more than a page without falling over laughing, you're definitely some kind of professional newsreader. Or somesuch.

Anyway, I figured I'd post it up here; this is too good to be missed.

—

THE EYE OF ARGON

by Jim Theis

Chapter 1

The weather beaten trail wound ahead into the dust racked climes of the baren land which dominates large portions of the Norgolian empire. Age worn hoof prints smothered by the sifting sands of time shone dully against the dust splattered crust of earth. The tireless sun cast its parching rays of incandescense from overhead, half way through its daily revolution. Small rodents scampered about, occupying themselves in the daily accomplishments of their dismal lives. Dust sprayed over three heaving mounts in blinding clouds, while they bore the burdonsome cargoes of their struggling overseers.

"Prepare to embrace your creators in the stygian haunts of hell, barbarian", gasped the first soldier.

"Only after you have kissed the fleeting stead of death, wretch!" returned Grignr.

A sweeping blade of flashing steel riveted from the massive barbarians hide enameled shield as his rippling right arm thrust forth, sending a steel shod blade to the hilt into the soldiers vital organs. The disemboweled mercenary crumpled from his saddle and sank to the clouded sward, sprinkling the parched dust with crimson droplets of escaping life fluid.

The enthused barbarian swilveled about, his shock of fiery red hair tossing robustly in the humid air currents as he faced the attack of the defeated soldier's fellow in arms.

"Damn you, barbarian" Shrieked the soldier as he observed his comrade in death.

A gleaming scimitar smote a heavy blow against the renegade's spiked helmet, bringing a heavy cloud over the Ecordian's misting brain. Shaking off the effects of the pounding blow to his head, Grignr brought down his scarlet streaked edge against the soldier's crudely forged hauberk, clanging harmlessly to the left side of his opponent. The soldier's stead whinnied as he directed the horse back from the driving blade of the barbarian. Grignr leashed his mount forward as the hoarsely piercing battle cry of his wilderness bred race resounded from his grinding lungs. A twirling blade bounced harmlessly from the mighty thief's buckler as his rolling right arm cleft upward, sending a foot of blinding steel ripping through the Simarian's exposed gullet. A gasping gurgle from the soldier's writhing mouth as he tumbled to the golden sand at his feet, and wormed agonizingly in his death bed.

Grignr's emerald green orbs glared lustfully at the wallowing soldier struggling before his chestnut swirled mount. His scowling voice reverberated over the dying form in a tone of mocking mirth. "You city bred dogs should learn not to antagonize your better." Reining his weary mount ahead, grignr resumed his journey to the Noregolian city of Gorzam, hoping to discover wine, women, and adventure to boil the wild blood coarsing through his savage veins.

The trek to Gorzom was forced upon Grignr when the soldiers of Crin were leashed upon him by a faithless concubine he had wooed. His scandalous activities throughout the Simarian city had unleashed throngs of havoc and uproar among it's refined patricians, leading them to tack a heavy reward over his head. He had barely managed to escape through the back entrance of the inn he had been guzzling in, as a squad of soldiers tounced upon him. After spilling a spout of blood from the leader of the mercenaries as he dismembered one of the officer's arms, he retreated to his mount to make his way towards Gorzom, rumoured to contain hoards of plunder, and many young wenches for any man who has the backbone to wrest them away.

Chapter 2

Arriving after dusk in Gorzom,grignr descended down a dismal alley, reining his horse before a beaten tavern. The redhaired giant strode into the dimly lit hostelry reeking of foul odors, and cheap wine. The air was heavy with chocking fumes spewing from smolderingtorches encased within theden's earthen packed walls. Tables were clustered with groups of drunken thieves, and cutthroats, tossing dice, or making love to willing prostitutes.

Eyeing a slender female crouched alone at a nearby bench, Grignr advanced wishing to wholesomely occupy his time. The flickering torches cast weird shafts of luminescence dancing over the half naked harlot of his choice, her stringy orchid twines of hair swaying gracefully over the lithe opaque nose, as she raised a half drained mug to her pale red lips.

Glancing upward, the alluring complexion noted the stalwart giant as he rapidly approached. A faint glimmer sparked from the pair of deep blue ovals of the amorous female as she motioned toward Grignr, enticing him to join her. The barbarian seated himself upon a stool at the wenches side, exposing his body, naked save for a loin cloth brandishing a long steel broad sword, an iron spiraled battle helmet, and a thick leather sandals, to her unobstructed view.

"Thou hast need to occupy your time, barbarian",questioned the female?

"Only if something worth offering is within my reach." Stated Grignr,as his hands crept to embrace the tempting female, who welcomed them with open willingness.

"From where do you come barbarian, and by what are you called?" Gasped the complying wench, as Grignr smothered her lips with the blazing touch of his flaming mouth.

The engrossed titan ignored the queries of the inquisitive female, pulling her towards him and crushing her sagging nipples to his yearning chest. Without struggle she gave in, winding her soft arms around the harshly bronzedhide of Grignr corded shoulder blades, as his calloused hands caressed her firm protruding busts.

"You make love well wench," Admitted Grignr as he reached for the vessel of potent wine his charge had been quaffing.

A flying foot caught the mug Grignr had taken hold of, sending its blood red contents sloshing over a flickering crescent; leashing tongues of bright orange flame to the foot trodden floor.

"Remove yourself Sirrah, the wench belongs to me;" Blabbered a drunken soldier, too far consumed by the influences of his virile brew to take note of the superior size of his adversary.

Grignr lithly bounded from the startled female, his face lit up to an ashen red ferocity, and eyes locked in a searing feralblaze toward the swaying soldier.

"To hell with you, braggard!" Bellowed the angered Ecordian, as he hefted his finely honed broad sword.

The staggering soldier clumsily reached towards the pommel of his dangling sword, but before his hands ever touched the oaken hilt a silvered flash was slicing the heavy air. The thews of the savages lashing right arm bulged from the glistening bronzed hide as his blade bit deeply into the soldiers neck, loping off the confused head of his senseless tormentor.

With a nauseating thud the severed oval toppled to the floor, as the segregated torso of Grignr's bovine antagonist swayed, then collapsed in a pool of swirled crimson.

In the confusion the soldier's fellows confronted Grignr with unsheathed cutlasses, directed toward the latters scowling make-up.

"The slut should have picked his quarry more carefully!" Roared the victor in a mocking baritone growl, as he wiped his dripping blade on the prostrate form, and returned it to its scabbard.

"The fool should have shown more prudence, however you shall rue your actions while rotting in the pits." Stated one of the sprawled soldier's comrades.

Grignr's hand began to remove his blade from its leather housing, but retarded the motion in face of the blades waving before his face.

"Dismiss your hand from the hilt, barbarbian, or you shall find a foot of steel sheathed in your gizzard."

Grignr weighed his position observing his plight, where-upon he took the soldier's advice as the only logical choice. To attempt to hack his way from his present predicament could only warrant certain death. He was of no mind to bring upon his own demise if an alternate path presented itself. The will to necessitate his life forced him to yield to the superior force in hopes of a moment of carlessness later upon the part of his captors in which he could effect a more plausible means of escape.

"You may steady your arms, I will go without a struggle."

"Your decision is a wise one, yet perhaps you would have been better off had you forced death," the soldier's mouth wrinkled to a sadistic grin of knowing mirth as he prodded his prisoner on with his sword point.

After an indiscriminate period of marching through slinking alleyways and dim moonlighted streets the procession confronted a massive seraglio. The palace area was surrounded by an iron grating, with a lush garden upon all sides.

The group was admitted through the gilded gateway and Grignr was ledalong a stone pathway bordered by plush vegitation lustfully enhanced by the moon's shimmering rays. Upon reaching the palace the group was granted entrance, and after several minutes of explanation, led through several winding corridors to a richly draped chamber.

Confronting the group was a short stocky man seated upona golden throne. Tapestries of richly draped regal blue silk covered all walls of the chamber, while the steps leading to the throne were plated with sparkling white ivory. The man upon the throne had a naked wench seated at each of his arms, and a trusted advisor seated in back of him. At each cornwr of the chamber a guard stood at attention, with upraised pikes supported in their hands, golden chainmail adorning their torso's and barred helmets emitting scarlet plumes enshrouding their heads. The man rose from his throne to the dias surrounding it. His plush turquois robe dangled loosely from his chuncky frame.

The soldiers surrounding Grignr fell to their knees with heads bowed to the stone masonry of the floor in fearful dignity to their sovereign, leige.

"Explain the purpose of this intrusion upon my chateau!"

"Your sirenity, resplendent in noble grandeur, we have brought this yokel before you (the soldier gestured toward Grignr) for the redress or your all knowing wisdon in judgement regarding his fate."

"Down on your knees, lout, and pay proper homage to your sovereign!" commanded the pudgy noble of Grignr.

"By the surly beard of Mrifk, Grignr kneels to no man!" scowled the massive barbarian.

"You dare to deal this blasphemous act to me! You are indeed brave stranger, yet your valor smacks of foolishness."

"I find you to be the only fool, sitting upon your pompous throne, enhancing the rolling flabs of your belly in the midst of your elaborate luxuryand …" The soldier standing at Grignr's side smote him heavily in the face with the flat of his sword, cutting short the harsh words and knocking his battered helmet to the masonry with an echo-ing clang.

The paunchy noble's sagging round face flushed suddenly pale, then pastily lit up to a lustrous cherry red radiance. His lips trembled with malicious rage, while emitting a muffled sibilant gibberish. His sagging flabs rolled like a tub of upset jelly, then compressed as he sucked in his gut in an attempt to conceal his softness.

The prince regained his statue, then spoke to the soldiers surrounding Grignr, his face conforming to an ugly expression of sadistic humor.

"Take this uncouth heathen to the vault of misery, and be sure that his agonies are long and drawn out before death can release him."

"As you wish sire, your command shall be heeded immediately," answered the soldier on the right of Grignr as he stared into the barbarians seemingly unaffected face.

The advisor seated in the back of the noble slowly rose and advanced to the side of his master, motioning the wenches seated at his sides to remove themselves. He lowered his head and whispered to the noble.

"Eminence, the punishment you have decreed will cause much misery to this scum, yet it will last only a short time, then release him to a land beyond the sufferings of the human body. Why not mellow him in one of the subterranean vaults for a few days, then send him to life labor in one of your buried mines. To one such as he, a life spent in the confinement of the stygian pits will be an infinitely more appropiate and lasting torture."

The noble cupped his drooping double chin in the folds of his briming palm, meditating for a moment upon the rationality of the councilor's word's, then raised his shaggy brown eyebrows and turned toward the advisor, eyes aglow.

"…As always Agafnd, you speak with great wisdom. Your words ring of great knowledge concerning the nature of one such as he ," sayeth , the king. The noble turned toward the prisoner with a noticable shimmer reflecting in his frog-like eyes, and his lips contorting to a greasy grin. "I have decided to void my previous decree. The prisoner shall be removed to one of the palaces underground vaults. There he shall stay until I have decided that he has sufficiently simmered, whereupon he is to be allowed to spend the remainder of his days at labor in one of my mines."

Upon hearing this, Grignr realized that his fate would be far less merciful than death to one such as he, who is used to roaming the countryside at will. A life of confinement would be more than his body and mind could stand up to. This type of life would be immeasurably worse than death.

"I shall never understand the ways if your twisted civilization. I simply defend my honor and am condemned to life confinement, by a pig who sits on his royal ass wooing whores, and knows nothing of the affairs of the land he imagines to rule!" Lectures Grignr ?

"Enough of this! Away with the slut before I loose my control!"

Seeing the peril of his position, Grignr searched for an opening. Crushing prudence to the sward, he plowed into the soldier at his left arm taking hold of his sword, and bounding to the dias supporting the prince before the startled guards could regain their composure. Agafnd leaped Grignr and his sire, but found a sword blade permeating the length of his ribs before he could loosed his weapon.

The councilor slumped to his knees as Grignr slid his crimsoned blade from Agfnd's rib cage. The fat prince stood undulating in insurmountable fear before the edge of the fiery maned comet, his flabs of jellied blubber pulsating to and fro in ripples of flowing terror.

"Where is your wisdom and power now, your magjesty?" Growled Grignr.

The prince went rigid as Grignr discerned him glazing over his shoulder. He swlived to note the cause of the noble's attention, raised his sword over his head, and prepared to leash a vicious downward cleft, but fell short as the haft of a steel rimed pike clashed against his unguarded skull. Then blackness and solitude. Silence enshrouding and ever peaceful reind supreme.

"Before me, sirrah! Before me as always! Ha, Ha Ha, Haaaa…", nobly cackled.

Chapter 3

Consciousness returned to Grignr in stygmatic pools as his mind gradually cleared of the cobwebs cluttering its inner recesses, yet the stygian cloud of charcoal ebony remained. An incompatible shield of blackness, enhanced by the bleak abscense of sound.

Grignr's muddled brain reeled from the shock of the blow he had recieved to the base of his skull. The events leading to his predicament were slow to filter back to him. He dickered with the notion that he was dead and had descended or sunk, however it may be, to the shadowed land beyond the the aperature of the grave, but rejected this hypothesis when his memory sifted back within his grips. This was not the land of the dead, it was something infinitely more precarious than anything the grave could offer. Death promised an infinity of peace, not the finite misery of an inactive life of confined torture, forever concealed from the life bearing shafts of the beloved rising sun. The orb that had been before taken for granted, yet now cherished above all else. To be forever refused further glimpses of the snow capped summits of the land of his birth, never again to witness the thrill of plundering unexplored lands beyond the crest of a bleeding horizon, and perhaps worst of all the denial to ever again encompass the lustful excitement of caressing the naked curves of the body of a trim yound wench.

This was indeed one of the buried chasms of Hell concealed within the inner depths of the palace's despised interior. A fearful ebony chamber devised to drive to the brinks of insanity the minds of the unfortunately condemned, through the inapt solitude of a limbo of listless dreary silence.

Chapter 3 1/2

A tightly rung elliptical circle or torches cast their wavering shafts prancing morbidly over the smooth surface of a rectangular, ridged alter. Expertly chisled forms of grotesque gargoyles graced the oblique rim protruberating the length of the grim orifice of death, staring forever ahead into nothingness in complete ignorance of the bloody rites enacted in their prescence. Brown flaking stains decorated the golden surface of the ridge surrounding the alter, which banked to a small slit at the lower right hand corner of the altar. The slit stood above a crudely pounded pail which had several silver meshed chalices hanging at its sides. Dangling at the rimof golden mallet, the handle of which was engraved with images of twisted faces and groved at its far end with slots designed for a snug hand grip. The head of the mallet was slightly larger than a clenched fist and shaped into a smooth oval mass.

Encircling the marble altar was a congregation of leering shamen. Eerie chants of a bygone age, originating unknown eons before the memory of man, were being uttered from the buried recesses of the acolytes' deep lings. Orange paint was smeared in generous globules over the tops of thw Priests' wrinkled shaven scalps, while golden rings projected from the lobes of their pink ears. Ornate robes of lusciour purple satin enclosed their bulging torsos, attached around their waists with silvered silk lashes latched with ebony buckles in the shape of morose mis-shaped skulls. Dangling around their necks were oval fashoned medalions held by thin gold chains, featuring in their centers blood red rubys which resembled crimson fetish eyeballs. Cushoning their bare feet were plush red felt slippers with pointed golden spikes projecting from their tips.

Situated in front of the altar, and directly adjacent to the copper pail was a massive jade idol; a misshaped, hideous bust of the shamens' pagan diety. The shimmering green idol was placed in a sitting posture on an ornately carved golden throne raised upon a round, dvory plated dias; it bulging arms and webbed hands resting on the padded arms of the seat. Its head was entwined in golden snake-like coils hanging over its oblong ears, which tappered off to thin hollow points. Its nose was a bulging triangular mass, sunken in at its sides with tow gaping nostrils. Dramatic beneath the nostrils was a twisted, shaggy lipped mouth, giving the impression of a slovering sadistic grimace.

At the foot of the heathen diety a slender, pale faced female, naked but for a golden, jeweled harness enshrouding her huge outcropping breasts, supporting long silver laces which extended to her thigh, stood before the pearl white field with noticable shivers traveling up and down the length of her exquisitely molded body. Her delicate lips trembled beneath soft narrow hands as she attemped to conceal herself from the piercing stare of the ambivalent idol.

Glaring directly down towards her was the stoney, cycloptic face of the bloated diety. Gaping from its single obling socket was scintillating, many fauceted scarlet emerald, a brilliant gem seeming to possess a life all of its own. A priceless gleaming stone, capable of domineering the wealth of conquering empires…the eye of Argon.

Chapter 4

All knowledge of measuring time had escaped Grignr. When a person is deprived of the sun, moon, and stars, he looses all conception of time as he had previously understood it. It seemed as if years had passed if time were being measured by terms of misery and mental anguish, yet he estimated that his stay had only been a few days in length. He has slept three times and had been fed five times since his awakening in the crypt. However, when the actions of the body are restricted its needs are also affected. The need for nourishmnet and slumber are directly proportional to the functions the body has performed, meaning that when free and active Grignr may become hungry every six hours and witness the desire for sleep every fifteen hours, whereas in his present condition he may encounter the need for food every ten hours, and the want for rest every twenty hours. All methods he had before depended upon were extinct in the dismal pit. Hence, he may have been imprisoned for ten minutes or ten years, he did not know, resulting in a disheartened emotion deep within his being.

The food, if you can honor the moldering lumps of fetid mush to that extent, was born to him by two guards who opened a portal at the top of his enclosure and shoved it to him in wooden bowls, retrieving the food and water bowels from his previous meal at the same time, after which they threw back the bolts on the iron latch and returned to their other duties. Since deprived of all other means of nourishment, Grignr was impelled to eat the tainted slop in order to ward off the paings of starvation, though as he stuffed it into his mouth with his filthy fingers and struggled to force it down his throat, he imagined it was that which had been spurned by the hounds stationed at various segments of the palace.

There was little in the baren vault that could occupy his body or mind. He had paced out the length and width of the enclosure time and time again and tested every granite slab which consisted the walls of the prison in hopes of finding a hidden passage to freedom, all of which was to no avail other than to keep him busy and distract his mind from wandering to thoughts of what he believed was his future. He had memorized the number of strides from one end to the other of the cell, and knew the exact number of slabs which made up the bleak dungeon. Numorous schemes were introduced and alternately discarded in turn as they succored to unravel to him no means of escape which stood the slightest chance of sucess.

Anguish continued to mount as his means of occupation were rapidly exhausted. Suddenly without no tive, he wasrouted from his contemplations as he detected a faint scratching sound at the end of the crypt opposite him. The sound seemed to be caused by something trying to scrape away at the grantite blocks the floor of the enclosure consisted of, the sandy scratching of something like an animal's claws.

Grignr gradually groped his way to the other end of the vault carefully feeling his way along with his hands ahead of him. When a few inches from the wall, a loud, penetrating squeal, and the scampering of small padded feet reverberated from the walls of the roughly hewn chamber.

Grignr threw his hands up to shield his face, and flung himself backwards upon his buttocks. A fuzzy form bounded to his hairy chest, burying its talons in his flesh while gnashing toward his throat with its grinding white teeth;its sour, fetid breath scortching the sqirming barbarians dilating nostrils. Grignr grappled with the lashing flexor muscles of the repugnant body of a garganuan brownhided rat, striving to hold its razor teeth from his juicy jugular, as its beady grey organs of sight glazed into the flaring emeralds of its prey.

Taking hold of the rodent around its lean, growling stomach with both hands Grignr pried it from his crimson rent breast, removing small patches of flayed flesh from his chest in the motion between the squalid black claws of the starving beast. Holding the rodent at arms length, he cupped his righthand over its frothing face, contrcting his fingers into a vice-like fist over the quivering head. Retaining his grips on the rat, grignr flexed his outstretched arms while slowly twisting his right hand clockwise and his left hand counter clockwise motion. The rodent let out a tortured squall, drawing scarlet as it violently dug its foam flecked fangs into the barbarians sweating palm, causing his face to contort to an ugly grimace as he cursed beneath his braeth.

With a loud crack the rodents head parted from its squirming torso, sending out a sprinking shower of crimson gore, and trailing a slimy string of disjointed vertebrae, snapped trachea, esophagus, and jugular, disjointed hyoid bone, morose purpled stretched hide, and blood seared muscles.

Flinging the broken body to the floor, Grignr shook his blood streaked hands and wiped them against his thigh until dry, then wiped the blood that had showered his face and from his eyes. Again sitting himself upon the jagged floor, he prepared to once more revamp his glum meditations. He told himself that as long as he still breathed the gust of life through his lungs, hope was not lost; he told himself this, but found it hard to comprehend in his gloomy surroundings. Yet he was still alive, his bulging sinews at their peak of marvel, his struggling mind floating in a miral of impressed excellence of thought. Plot after plot sifted through his mind in energetic contemplations.

Then it hit him. Minutes may have passed in silent thought or days, he could not tell, but he stumbled at last upon a plan that he considered as holding a slight margin of plausibility. He might die in the attempt, but he knew he would not submit without a final bloody struggle. It was not a foolproof plan, yet it built up a store of renewed vortexed energy in his overwroughtsoul, though he might perish in the execution of the escape, he would still be escaping the life of infinite torture in store forhim. Either way he would still cheat the gloating prince of the succored revenge his sadistic mind craved so dearly.

The guards would soon come to bear him off to the prince's buried mines of dread, giving him the sought after opportunity to execute his newly formulated plan. Groping his way along the rough floor Grignr finally found his tool in a pool of congealed gore; the carcass of the decapitated rodent; the tool that the very filth he had been sentenced too, spawned. When the time came for action he would have to be prepared, so he set himself to rending the sticky hulk in grim silence, searching by the touch of his fingertips for the lever to freedom.

Chapter 5

"Up to the altar and be done with it wench;" ordered a fidgeting shaman as he gave the female a grim stare accompanied by the wrinkling of his lips to a mirthful grin of delight.

The girl burst into a slow steady whimper, stooping shakily to her knees and cringing woefully from the priest with both arms wound snake-like around the bulging jade jade shin rising before her scantily attired figure. Her face was redly inflamed from the salty flow of tears spouting from her glassy dilated eyeballs.

With short, heavy footfals the priest approached the female, his piercing stare never wavering from her quivering young countenance. Halting before the terrified girl he projected his arm outward and motioned her to arise with an upward movement of his hand. the girl's whimpering increased slightly and she sunk closer to the floor rather than arising. The flickering torches outlined her trim build with a weird ornate glow as it cast a ghostly shadow dancing in horrid waves of splendor over smoothly worn whiteness of the marble hewn altar.

The shaman's lips curled back farther, exposing a set of blackened, decaying molars which transformed his slovenly grin into a wide greasy arc of sadistic mirth and alternately interposed into the female a strong sensation of stomach curdling nausea. "Have it as you will female;" gloated the enhanced priest as he bent over at the waist, projecting his ape-like arms forward, and clasped the female's slender arms with his hairy round fists. With an inward surge of of his biceps he harshly jerked the trembling girl to her feet and smothered her salty wet cheeks with the moldy touch of his decrepid, dull red lips.

The vile stench of the Shaman's hot fetid breath over came the nauseated female with a deep soul searing sickness, causing her to wrench her head backwards and regurgitate a slimy, orange- white stream of swelling gore over the richly woven purple robe of the enthused acolyte.

The priest's lips trembled with a malicious rage as he removed his callous paws from the girl's arms and replaced them with tightly around her undulating neck, shaking her violently to and fro.

The girl gasped a tortured groan from her clamped lungs, her sea blue eyes bulging forth from damp sockets. Cocking her right foot backwards, she leashed it desperately outwards with the strength of a demon possessed, lodging her sandled foot squarely between the shaman's testicles.

The startled priest released his crushing grip, crimping his body over at the waist overlooking his recessed belly; wide open in a deep chasim. His face flushed to a rose red shade of crimson, eyelids fluttering wide with eyeballs protruding blindly outwards from their sockets to their outmost perimeters, while his lips quivered wildly about allowing an agonized wallow to gust forth as his breath billowed from burning lungs. His hands reached out clutching his urinary gland as his knees wobbled rapidly about for a few seconds then buckled, causing the ruptured shaman to collapse in an egg huddled mass to the granite pavement, rolling helplessly about in his agony.

The pathetic screeches of the shaman groveling in dejected misery upon the hand hewn granite laid pavement, worn smooth by countless hours of arduous sweat and toil, a welter of ichor oozing through his clenched hands, attracted the purturbed attention of his comrades from their foetid ulations. The actions of this this rebellious wench bespoke the creedence of an unheard of sacrilige. Never before in a lost maze of untold eons had a chosen one dared to demonstrate such blasphemy in the face of the cult's idolic diety.

The girl cowered in unreasoning terror, helpless in the face of the emblazoned acolytes' rage; her orchid tusseled face smothered betwixt her bulging bosom as she shut her curled lashed tightly hoping to open them and find herself awakening from a morbid nightmare. yet the hand of destiny decreed her no such mercy, the antagonized pack of leering shaman converging tensely upon her prostrate form were entangled all too lividly in the grim web of reality.

Shuddering from the clamy touch of the shaman as they grappled with her supple form, hands wrenching at her slender arms and legs in all directions, her bare body being molested in the midst of a labyrnth of orange smudges, purpled satin, and mangled skulls, shadowed in an eerie crimson glow; her confused head reeled then clouded in a mist of enshrouding ebony as she lapsed beneath the protective sheet of unconsiousness to a land peach and resign.

Chapter 6

"Take hold of this rope," said the first soldier, "and climb out from your pit, slut. Your presence is requested in another far deeper hell hole."

Grignr slipped his right hand to his thigh, concealing a small opaque object beneath the folds of the g-string wrapped about his waist. Brine wells swelled in Grignr's cold, jade squinting eyes, which grown accustomed to the gloom of the stygian pools of ebony engulfing him, were bedazzled and blinded by flickerering radiance cast forth by the second soldiers's resin torch.

Tightly gripped in the second soldier's right hand, opposite the intermittent torch, was a large double edged axe, a long leather wound oaken handled transfixing the center of the weapon's iron head. Adorning the torso's of both of the sentries were thin yet sturdy hauberks, the breatplates of which were woven of tightly hemmed twines of reinforced silver braiding. Cupping the soldiers' feet were thick leather sandals, wound about their shins to two inches below their knees. Wrapped about their waists were wide satin girdles, with slender bladed poniards dangling loosely from them, the hilts of which featured scarlet encrusted gems. Resting upon the manes of their heads, and reaching midway to their brows were smooth copper morions. Spiraling the lower portion of the helmet were short, up-curved silver spikes, while a golden hump spired from the top of each basinet. Beneath their chins, wound around their necks, and draping their clad shoulders dangled regal purple satin cloaks, which flowed midway to the soldiers feet.

hand over hand, feet braced against the dank walls of the enclosure, huge Grignr ascended from the moldering dephs of the forlorn abyss. His swelled limbs, stiff due to the boredom of a timeless inactivity, compounded by the musty atmosture and jagged granite protuberan against his body, craved for action. The opportunity now presenting itself served the purpose of oiling his rusty joints, and honing his dulled senses.

He braced himself, facing the second soldier. The sentry's stature was was wildly exaggerated in the glare of the flickering cresset cuppex in his right fist. His eyes were wide open in a slightly slanted owlish glaze, enhanced in their sinister intensity by the hawk-bill curve of his nose andpale yellow pique of his cheeks.

"Place your hands behind your back," said the second soldier as he raised his ax over his right shoulder blade and cast it a wavering glance. "We must bind your wrists to parry any attempts at escape. Be sure to make the knot a stout one, Broig, we wouldn't want our guest to take leave of our guidance."

Broig grasped Grignr's left wrist and reached for the barbarians's right wrist. Grignr wrenched his right arm free and swilveled to face Broig, reach- beneath his loin cloth with his right hand. The sentry grappled at his girdle for the sheathed dagger, but recoiled short of his intentions as Grignr's right arm swept to his gorge. The soldier went limp, his bobbing eyes rolling beneath fluttering eyelids, a deep welt across his spouting gullet. Without lingering to observe the result of his efforts, Grignr dropped to his knees. The second soldier's axe cleft over Grignr's head in a blze of silvered ferocity, severing several scarlet locks from his scalp. Coming to rest in his fellow's stomach, the iron head crashed through mail and flesh with splintering force, spilling a pool of crimsoned entrails over the granite paving.

Before the sentry could wrench his axe free from his comrade's carcass, he found Grignr's massive hands clasped about his throat, choking the life from his clamped lungs. With a zealous grunt, the Ecordian flexed his tightly corded biceps, forcing the grim faced soldier to one knee. The sentry plunged his right fist into Grignr's face, digging his grimy nails into the barbarians flesh. Ejaculating a curse through rasping teeth, grignr surged the bulk of his weight foreard, bowling the beseiged soldier over upon his back. The sentry's arms collapsed to his thigh, shuddering convulsively; his bulging eyes staring blindly from a bloated ,cherry red face.

Rising to his feet, Grignr shook the bllod from his eyes, ruffling his surly red mane as a brush fire swaying to the nightime breeze. Stooping over the spr sprawled corpse of the first soldier, Grignr retrieved a small white object from a pool of congealing gore. Snorting a gusty billow of mirth, he once more concealed th e tiny object beneath his loin cloth; the tediously honed pelvis bone of the broken rodent. Returning his attention toward the second soldier, Grignr turned to the task of attiring his limbs. To move about freely through the dim recesses of the castle would require the grotesque garb of its soldiery.

Utilizing the silence and stealth aquired in the untamed climbs of his childhood, Grignr slink through twisting corridors, and winding stairways, lighting his way with the confisticated torch of his dispatched guardian. Knowing where his steps were leading to, Grignr meandered aimlessly in search of an exit from the chateau's dim confines. The wild blood coarsing through his veins yearned for the undefiled freedom of the livid wilderness lands.

Coming upon a fork in the passage he treaked, voices accompanied by clinking footfalls discerned to his sensitive ears from the left corridor. Wishing to avoid contact, Grignr veered to the right passageway. If aquested as to the purpose of his presence, his barbarous accent would reveal his identity, being that his attire was not that of the castle's mercenary troops.

In grim silence Grignr treaded down the dingily lit corridor; a stalking panther creeping warily along on padded feet. After an interminable period of wandering through the dull corridors; no gaps to break the monotony of the cold gray walls, Grignr espied a small winding stairway. Descending the flight of arced granite slabs to their posterior, Grignr was confronted by a short haalway leading to a tall arched wooden doorway.

Halting before the teeming portal portal, Grignr restes his shaggy head sideways against the barrier. Detecting no sounds from within, he grasped the looped metel handle of the door; his arms surging with a tremendous effort of bulging muscles, yet the door would not budge. Retrieving his ax from where he had sheathed it beneath his girdle, he hefted it in his mighty hands with an apiesed grunt, and wedging one of its blackened edges into the crack between the portal and its iron rimed sill. Bracing his sandaled right foot against the rougjly hewn wall, teeth tightly clenched, Grignr appilevered the oaken haft, employing it as a lever whereby to pry open the barrier. The leather wound hilt bending to its utmost limits of endurance, the massive portal swung open with a grating of snapped latch and rusty iron hinges.

Glancing about the dust swirled room in the gloomily dancing glare of his flickering cresset, Grignr eyed evidences of the enclosure being nothing more than a forgotten storeroom. Miscellaneous articles required for the maintainance of a castle were piled in disorganized heaps at infrequent intervals toward the wall opposite the barbarian's piercing stare. Utilizing long, bounding strides, Grignr paced his way over to the mounds of supplies to discover if any articles of value were contained within their midst.

Detecting a faint clinking sound, Grignr sprawed to his left side with the speed of a striking cobra, landing harshly upon his back; torch and axe loudly clattering to the floor in a morass of sparks and flame. A elmwoven board leaped from collapsed flooring, clashing against the jagged flooring and spewing a shower of orange and yellow sparks over Grignr's startled face. Rising uneasily to his feet, the half stunned Ecordian glared down at the grusome arm of death he had unwittingly sprung. "Mrifk!"

If not for his keen auditory organs and lighting steeled reflexes, Grignr would have been groping through the shadowed hell-pits of the Grim Reaper. He had unknowingly stumbled upon an ancient, long forgotton booby trap; a mistake which would have stunted the perusal of longevity of one less agile. A mechanism, similar in type to that of a minature catapult was concealed beneath two collapsable sections of granite flooring. The arm of the device was four feet long, boasting razor like cleats at regular intervals along its face with which it was to skewer the luckless body of its would be victim. Grignr had stepped upon a concealed catch which relaesed a small metal latch beneath the two granite sections, causing them to fall inward, and thereby loose the spiked arm of death they precariously held in.

Partially out of curiosity and partially out of an inordinate fear of becoming a pincushion for a possible second trap, Grignr plunged his torch into the exposed gap in the floor. The floor of a second chamber stood out seven feet below the glare. Tossing his torch through the aperature, Grignr grasped the side of an adjoining tile, dropping down.

Glancing about the room, Grignr discovered that he had decended into the palace's mausoleum. Rectangular stone crypts cluttered the floor at evenly placed intervals. The tops of the enclosures were plated with thick layers of virgin gold, while the sides were plated with white ivory; at one time sparkling, but now grown dingy through the passage of the rays of allencompassing mother time. Featured at the head of each sarcophagus in tarnished silver was an expugnisively carved likeness of its rotting inhabitant.

A dingy atmosphere pervaded the air of the chamber; which sealed in the enclosure for an unknown period had grown thick and stale. Intermingling with the curdled currents was the repugnant stench of slowly moldering flesh, creeping ever slowly but surely through minute cracks in the numerous vaults. Due to the embalming of the bodies, their flesh decayed at a much slower rate than is normal, yet the nauseous oder was none the less repellant.

Towering over Grignr's head was the trap he released. The mechanism of the miniaturized catapolt was cluttered with mildew and cobwebs. Notwithstanding these relics of antiquity, its efficiency remained unimpinged. To the right of the trap wound a short stairway through a recess in the ceiling; a concealed entrance leading to the mausoleum for which the catapult had obviously been erected as a silent, relentless guardian.

Climbing up the side of the device, Grignr set to the task of resetting its mechanism. In the e event that a search was organized, it would prove well to leave no evidence of his presence open to wandering eyes. Besides, it might even serve to dwindle the size of an opposing force.

Descending from his perch, Grignr was startled by a faintly muffled scream of horrified desperation. His hair prickled yawkishly in disorganized clumps along his scalp. As a cold danced along the length of his spinal cord. No moral/mortal barrier, human or otherwise, was capable of arousing the numbing sensation of fear inside of Grignr's smoldering soul. However, he was overwrought by the forces of the barbarians' instinctive fear of the supernatural. His mighty thews had always served to adequately conquer any tangible foe., but the intangible was something distant and terrible. Dim horrifying tales passed by word of mouth over glimmering camp fires and skins of wine had more than once served the purpose of chilling the marrowed core of his sturdy limbed bones.

Yet, the scream contained a strangely human quality, unlike that which Grignr imagined would come from the lungs of a demon or spirit, making Grignr take short nervous strides advancing to the sarcophagus from which the sound was issuing. Clenching his teeth in an attempt to steel his jangled nerves, Grignr slid the engraved slab from the vault with a sharp rasp of grinding stone. Another long drawn cry of terror infested anguish met the barbarian, scoring like the shrill piping of a demented banshee; piercing the inner fibres of his superstitious brain with primitive dread dread and awe.

Stooping over to espy the tomb's contents, the glittering Ecordians nostrills were singed by the scorching aroma of a moldering corpse, long shut up and fermenting; the same putrid scent which permeated the entire chamber, though multiplied to a much more concentrated dosage. The shriveled, leathery packet of crumbling bones and dried flacking flesh offered no resistance, but remained in a fixed position of perpetual vigilance, watching over its dim abode from hollow gaping sockets.

The tortured crys were not coming from the tomb but from some hidden depth below! Pulling the reaking corpse from its resting place, Grignr tossed it to the floor in a broken, mangled heap. Upon one side of the crypt's bottom was attached a series of tiny hinges while running parallel along the opposite side of a convex railing like protruberance; laid so as to appear as a part of the interior surface of the sarcophagus.

Raising the slab upon its bronze hinges, long removed from the gaze of human eyes, Grignr percieved a scene which caused his blood to smolder not unlike bubbling, molten lava. Directly below him a whimpering female lay stretched upon a smooth surfaced marble altar. A pack of grasy faced shamen clustered around her in a tight circular formation. Crouched over the girl was a tall, potbellied priest; his face dominated by a disgusting, open mouthed grimace of sadistic glee. Suspended from the acolyte's clenched right hand was a carven oval faced mallet, which he waved menacingly over the girl's shadowed face; an incoherent gibberish flowing from his grinning, thick lipped mouth.

In the face of the amorphos, broad breated female, stretched out aluringly before his gaping eyes; the universal whim of nature filing a plea of despair inside of his white hot soul; Grignr acted in the only manner he could perceive. Giving vent to a hoarse, throat rending battle cry, Grignr plunged into the midst of the startled shamen; torch simmering in his left hand andax twirling in his right hand.

A gaunt skull faced priest standing at the far side of the altar clutched desperately at his throat, coughing furiously in an attempt to catch his breath. Lurching helplessly to and fro, the acolyte pitched headlong against the gleaming base of a massive jade idol. Writhing agonizedly against the hideous image, foam flecking his chalk white lips, the priest struggled helplessly - - - the victim of an epileptic siezure.

Startled by the barbarians stunning appearance, the chronic fit of their fellow, and the fear that Grignr might be the avantgarde of a conquering force dedicated to the cause of destroying their degenerated cult, the saman momentarily lost their composure. Giving vent to heedless pandemonium, the priests fell easy prey to Grignr's sweeping arc of crimsoned death and maiming distruction.

The acolyte performing the sacrifice took a vicious blow to the stomach; hands clutching vitals and severed spinal cord as he sprawled over the altar. The disor anized priests lurched and staggered with split skulls, dismembered limbs, and spewing entrails before the enraged Ecordian's relentless onslaught. The howles of the maimed and dying reverberated against the walls of the tiny chamber; a chorus of hell frought despair; as the granite floor ran red with blood. The entire chamber was encompassed in the heat of raw savage butchery as Grignr luxuriated in the grips of a primitive, beastly blood lust.

Presently all went silenet save for the ebbing groans of the sinking shaman and Grignr's heaving breath accompanied by several gusty curses. The well had run dry. No more lambs remained for the slaughter.

The rampaging stead of death having taken of Grignr for the moment, left the barbarian free to the exploitation of his other perusials. Towering over his head was the misshaped image of the cult's hideous diety - - - Argon. The fantastic size of the idol in consideration of its being of pure jade was enough to cause the senses of any man to stagger and reel, yet thus was not the case for the behemoth. he had paid only casual notice to this incredible fact, while riviting the whole of his attention upon the jewel protruding from the idol's sole socket; its masterfully cut faucets emitting blinding rays of hypnotising beauty. After all, a man cannot slink from a heavily guarded palace while burdened down by the intense bulk of a squatting statue, providing of course that the idol can even be hefted, which in fact was beyond the reaches of Grignr's coarsing stamina. On the other hand, the jewel, gigantic as it was, would not present a hinderence of any mean concern.

"Help me … please … I can make it well worth your while," pleaded a soft, anguish strewn voice wafting over Grignr's shoulders as he plucked the dull red emerald from its roots. Turning, Grignr faced the female that had lured him into this blood bath, but whom had become all but forgotten in the heat of the battle.

"You"; ejaculated the Ecordian in a pleased tone. "I though that I had seen the last of you at the tavern, but verilly I was mistaken." Grignr advanced into the grips of the female's entrancing stare, severing the golden chains that held her captive upon the altars highly polished face of ornamental limestone.

As Grignr lifted the girl from the altar, her arms wound dexterously about his neck; soft and smooth against his harsh exterior. "Art thou pleased that we have chanced to meet once again?" Grignr merely voiced an sighed grunt, returning the damsels embrace while he smothered her trim, delicate lips between the coarsing protrusions of his reeking maw.

"Let us take leave of this retched chamber." Stated Grignr as he placed the female upon her feet. She swooned a moment, causing Grignr to giver her support then regained her stance. "Art thou able to find your way through the accursed passages of this castle? Mrifk! Every one of the corridors of this damned place are identical."

"Aye; I was at one time a slave of prince Agaphim. His clammy touch sent a sour swill through my belly, but my efforts reaped a harvest. I gained the pig's liking whereby he allowed me the freedom of the palace. It was through this means that I eventually managed escape at the western gate. His trust found him with a dagger thrust his ribs," the wench stated whimsicoracally.

"What were you doing at the tavern whence I discovered you?" asked Grignr as he lifted the female through the opening into the mausoleum.

"I had sought to lay low from the palace's guards as they conducted their search for me. The tavern was seldom frequented by the palace guards and my identity was unknown to the common soldiers. It was through the disturbance that you caused that the palace guards were attracted to the tavern. I was dragged away shortly after you were escorted to the palace."

"What are you called by female?"

"Carthena, daughter of Minkardos, Duke of Barwego, whose lands border along the northwestern fringes of Gorzom. I was paid as homage to Agaphim upon his thirty-eighth year," husked the femme!

"And I am called a barbarian!" Grunted Grignr in a disgusted tone!

"Aye! The ways of our civilization are in many ways warped and distorted, but what is your calling," she queried, bustily?

"Grignr of Ecordia."

"Ah, I have heard vaguely of Ecordia. It is the hill country to the far east of the Noregolean Empire. I have also heard Agaphim curse your land more than once when his troops were routed in the unaccustomed mountains and gorges." Sayeth she.

"Aye. My people are not tarnished by petty luxuries and baubles. They remain fierce and unconquerable in their native climes." After reaching the hidden panel at the head of the stairway, Grignr was at a loss in regard to its operation. His fiercest heaves were as pebbles against burnished armour! Carthena depressed a small symbol included within the elaborate design upon the panel whereopen it slowly slid into a cleft in the wall. "How did you come to be the victim of those crazed shamen?" Quested Grignr as he escorted Carthena through the piles of rummage on the left side of the trap.

"By Agaphim's orders I was thrust into a secluded cell to await his passing of sentence. By some means, the Priests of Argon acquired a set of keys to the cell. They slew the guard placed over me and abducted me to the chamber in which you chanced to come upon the scozsctic sacrifice. Their hell-spawned cult demands a sacrifice once every three moons upon its full journey through the heavens. They were startled by your unannounced appearance through the fear that you had been sent by Agaphim. The prince would surely have submitted them to the most ghastly of tortures if he had ever discovered their unfaithfulness to Sargon, his bastard diety. Many of the partakers of the ritual were high nobles and high trustees of the inner palace; Agaphim's pittiless wrath would have been unparalled."

"They have no more to fear of Agaphim now!" Bellowed Grignr in a deep mirthful tome; a gleeful smirk upon his face. "I have seen that they were delivered from his vengence."

Engrossed by Carthena's graceful stride and conversation Grignr failed to take note of the footfalls rapidly approaching behind him. As he swung aside the arched portal linking the chamber with the corridors beyond, a maddened, blood lusting screech reverberated from his ear drums. Seemingly utilizing the speed of thought, Grignr swiveled to face his unknown foe. With gaping eyes and widened jaws, Grignr raised his axe above his surly mein; but he was too late.

Chapter 7

With wobbling knees and swimming head, the priest that had lapsed into an epileptic siezure rose unsteadily to his feet. While enacting his choking fit in writhing agony, the shaman was overlooked by Grignr. The barbarian had mistaken the siezure for the death throes of the acolyte, allowing the priest to avoid his stinging blade. The sight that met the priests inflamed eyes nearly served to sprawl him upon the floor once more. The sacrificial sat it grim, blood splattered silence all around him, broken only by the occasional yelps and howles of his maimed and butchered fellows. Above his head rose the hideous idol, its empty socket holding the shaman's ifurbished infuriated gaze. His eyes turned to a stoney glaze with the realization of the pillage and blasphemy. Due to his high succeptibility following the siezure, the priest was transformed into a raving maniac bent soley upon reaking vengeance. With lips curled and quivering, a crust of foam dripping from them, the acolyte drew a long, wicked looking jewel hilted scimitar from his silver girdle and fled through the aperature in the ceiling uttering a faintly perceptible ceremonial jibberish.

Chapter 7 1/2

A sweeping scimitar swung towards Grignr's head in a shadowed blur of motion. With axe raised over his head, Grignr prepared to parry the blow, while gaping wideeyed in open-mouthed perplexity. Suddenly a sharp snap resounded behind the frothing shaman. The scimitar, halfway through its fatal sweep, dropped from a quivering nerveless hand, clattering harmlessly to the stoneage. Cutting his screech short with a bubbling, red-mouthed gurgle, the lacerated acolyte staggered under the pressure of the released spring-board. After a moment of hopeless struggling, the shaman buckled, sprawling face down in a widening pool of blood and entrails, his regal purple robe blending enhancingly with the swirling streams of crimson.

"Mrifk! I thought I had killed the last of those dogs;" muttered Grignr in a half apathetic state.

"Nay, Grignr. You doubtless grew careless while giving vent to your lusts. But let us not tarry any long lest we over-tax the fates. The paths leading to freedom will soon be barred. The wretch's cries must certainly have attracted unwanted attention," the wench mused.

"By what direction shall we pursue our flight?"

"Up that stair and down the corridor a short distance is the concealed enterance to a tunnel seldom used by others than the prince, and known to few others save the palace's royalty. It is used mainly by the prince when he wishes to take leave of the palace in secret. It is not always in the Prince's best interests to leave his chateau in public view. Even while under heavy guard he is often assaulted by hurtling stones and rotting fruits. The commoners have little love for him." lectured the nerelady!

"It is amazing that they would ever have left a pig like him become their ruler. I should imagine that his people would rise up and crucify him like the dog he is."

"Alas, Grignr, it is not as simple as all that. His soldiers are well paid by him. So long as he keeps their wages up they will carry out his damned wishes. The crude implements of the commonfolk would never stand up under an onslaught of forged blades and protective armor; they would be going to their own slaughter," stated Carthena to a confused, but angered Grignr as they topped the stairway.

"Yet how can they bear to live under such oppression? I would sooner die beneath the sword than live under such a dog's command." added Grignr as the pair stalked down the hall in the direction opposite that in which Grignr had come.

"But all men are not of the same mold that you are born of, they choose to live as they are so as to save their filthy necks from the chopping block." returned Carthena, in a disgusted tone as she cast an appiesed glance towards the stalwart figure at her side whose left arm was wound dextrously about her slim waist; his slowly waning torch casting their images in intermingling wisps as it dangled from his left hand.

Presently Carthena came upon the panel, concealed amonst the other granite slabs and discernable only by the burned-out cresset above it. "As I push the cresset aside, push the panel inwards." Catrhena motioned to the panel she was refering to and twisted the cresset in a counterclockwise motion. Grignr braced his right shoulder against the walling, concentrating the force of his bulk against it. The slab gradually swung inward with a slight grating sound. Carthena stooped beneath Grignr's corded arms and crawled upon all fours into the passage beyond. Grignr followed, after easing the slab back into place.

Winding before the pair was a dark musty tunnel, exhibiting tangled spider webs from its ceiling to wall and an oozing, sickly slime running lazily upon its floor. Hanging from the chipped wall upon Grignr's right side was a half-mouldered corpse, its grey flacking arms held in place by rusted iron manacles. Carthena flinched back into Grignr's arms at sight of the leering set in an ugly distorted grimmace staring horribly at her from hollow gaping sockets.

"This alcove must also be used by Agaphim as a torture chamber. I wonder how many of his enemies have disappeared into these haunts never to be heard from again," pondered the hulking brute.

"Let us flee before we are also caught within Agaphim's ghastly clutches. The exit from this tunnel cannot be very far from here!" said Carthena with a slight sob to her voice, as she sagged in Grignr's encompasing embrace.

"Aye; It will be best to be finished with this corridor as soon as it is possible. But why do you flinch from the sight of death so? Mrift! You have seen much death this day without exhibiting such emotions." exclaimed Grignr as he led her trembling form along the dingy confines.

"—The man hanging from the wall was Doyanta. He had committed the folly of showing affections for me in front of Agaphim — he never meant any harm by his actions!" At this Carthena broke into a slow steady whimpering, chokking her voice with gasping sobs. "There was never anything between us yet Agaphim did this to him! The beast! May the demons of Hell's deepest haunts claw away at his wretched flesh for this merciless act!" she prayed.

"I detect that you felt more for this fellow than you wish to let on … but enough of this, We can talk of such matters after we are once more free to do so." With this Grignr lifted the grieved female to her feet and strode onward down the corridor, supporting the bulk of her weight with his surging left arm.

Presently a dim light was perceptibly filtering into the tunnel, casting a dim reddish hue upon the moldy wall of the passage's grim confines. Carthena had ceased her whimpering and partially regained her composure. "The tunnel's end must be nearing. Rays of sunlight are beginning to seep into …"

Grignr clamped his right hand over Carthena's mouth and with a slight struggle pulled her over to the shadows at the right hand wall of the path, while at the same time thrusting this torch beneath an overhanging stone to smother its flickering rays. "Be silent; I can hear footfalls approaching through the tunnel;" growled Grignr in a hushed tone.

"All that you hear are the horses corraled at the far end of the tunnel. That is a further sign that we are nearing our goal." she stated!

"All that you hear is less than I hear! I heard footsteps coming towards us. Silence yourself that we may find out whom we are being brought into contact with. I doubt that any would have thought as yet of searching this passage for us. The advantage of surprize will be upon our side." Grignr warned.

Carthena cast her eyes downward and ceased any further pursuit towards conversation, an irritating habit in which she had gained an amazing proficiency. Two figures came into the pairs view, from around a turn in the tunnel. They were clothed in rich luxuriant silks and rambling on in conversation while ignorant of their crouching foes waiting in an ambush ahead.

"…That barbarian dog is cringing beneath the weight of the lash at this moment sire. He shall cause no more disturbance."

"Aye, and so it is with any who dare to cross the path of Sargon's chosen one." said the 2nd man.

"But the peasants are showing signs of growing unrest. They complain that they cannot feed their families while burdened with your taxes."

"I shall teach those sluts the meaning of humility! Order an immediate increase upon their taxes. They dare to question my sovereign authority, Ha-a, they shall soon learn what true oppression can be. I will … "

A shodowed bulk leapt from behind a jutting promontory as it brought down a double edged axe with the spped of a striking thought. One of the nobles sagged lifeless to the ground, skull split to the teeth.

Grignr gasped as he observed the bisected face set in its leering death agonies. It was Agafnd! The dead man's comrade, having recovered from his shock, drew a jewel-encrusted dagger from beneath the folds of his robe and lunged toward the barbarian's back. Grignr spun at the sound from behind and smashed down his crimsoned axe once more. His antagonist lunged howling to a stream of stagnent green water, grasping a spouting stump that had once been a wrist. Grignr raised his axe over his head and prepared to finish the incomplete job, but was deterred halfway through his lunge by a frenzied screech from behind.

Carthena leapt to the head of the writhing figure, plunging a smoldering torch into the agonized face. The howls increased in their horrid intensity, stifled by the sizzling of roasting flesh, then died down until the man was reduced to a blubbering mass of squirming, insensate flesh.

Grignr advanced to Carthena's side, wincing slightly from the putrid aroma of charred flesh that rose in a puff of thick white smog throughout the chamber. Carthena reeled slightly, staring dazedly downward at her gruesome handywork. "I had to do it … it was Agaphim … I had to, " she exclaimed!

"Sargon should be more carful of his right-hand men." added Grignr, a smug grin upon his lips. "But to hell with Sargon for now, the stench is becoming bothersome to me." With that, Grignr grasped Carthena around the waist leading her around the bend in the cave and into the open.

A ball of feral red was rising through the mists of the eastern horizon, dissipating the slinking shadows of the night. A coral stood before the pair, enclosing two grazing mares. Grignr reached into a weighted down leather pouch dangling at his side and drew forth the scintillant red emerald he had obtained from the bloated idol. Raising it toward the sun he said, "We shall do well with this bauble, eh!"

Carthena gaped at the gem gasping in a terrified manner "The eye of Argon, Oh! Kalla!" At this the gem gave off a blinding glow, then dribbled through Grignr's fingers in a slimy red ooze. Grignr stepped back, pushing Carthena behind him. The droplets of slime slowly converged into a pulsating jelly-like mass. A single opening transfixed the blob, forming into a leechlike maw.

Then the hideous transgressor of nature flowed towards Grignr, a trail of greenish slime lingering behind it. The single gap puckered repeatedly emitting a ghastly sucking sound.

Grignr spread his legs into a battle stance, steeling his quivering thews for a battle royal with a thing he knew not how to fight. Carthena wound her arms about her protectors neck, mumbling, "Kill it! Kill!," while her entire body trembled.

The thing was almost upon Grignr when he buried his axe into the gristly maw. It passed through the blob and clanged upon the ground. Grignr drew his axe back with a film of yellow-green slime clinging to the blade. The thing was seemingly unaffected. Then it started to slooze up his leg. The hairs upon his nape stood on end from the slimey feel of the things buly, bulk. The Nautous sucking sound became louder, and Grignr felt the blood being drawn from his body. With each hiss of hideous pucker the thing increased in size.

Grignr shook his foot about madly in an attempt to dislodge the blob, but it clung like a leech, still feeding upon his rapidly draining life fluid. He grasped with his hands trying to rip it off, but only found his hands entangled in a sickly glue-like substance. The slimy thing continued its puckering; now having grown to the size of Grignr's leg from its vampiric feast.

Grignr began to reel and stagger under the blob, his chalk-white face and faltering muscles attesting to the gigantic loss of blood. Carthena slipped from Grignr in a death-like faint, a morrow chilling scream upon her red rubish lips. In final desperation Grignr grasped the smoldering torch upon the ground and plunged it into the reeking maw of the travestry. A shudder passed through the thing. Grignr felt the blackness closing upon his eyes, but held on with the last ebb of his rapidly waning vitality. He could feel its grip lessening as a hideous gurgling sound erupted from the writhing maw. The jelly- like mass began to bubble like a vat of boiling tar as quavers passed up and down its entire form.

END OF AVAILABLE COPY

Here are a few Firefox addons I couldn't live without.

Chatzilla

An irc client far less bloated than mIRC, and in my opinion easier to get to grips with too. This makes following links to irc clients from within Firefox extremely easy, and extremely fast.

download

Adblock Plus

This one goes without saying. Banish entire sets of adverts from your favourite pages, permanently - a great way to save bandwidth, and avoid eyesore.

download

Flashgot

An extension which compliments the download manager Flashget - this is essential if you want to download all of the items on one page, selectively by extension, or by pattern. Firefox's built in download manager is lacking in many respects; Flashget surpasses it in a number of ways.

download (flashget)

Gmail Manager

Puts a little icon in your browser's status bar which allows you to view how many emails are in your gmail inbox, and quickly check the subject and sender of each one. I didn't think I'd need this when I first tried it, but now I couldn't browse without it.

download

IE Tab

Emulates internet explorer. If you're a web developer - or even if you've just dabbled in web design - you'd be mad to go without this addon; being able to quickly switch to how Internet Explorer sees your page is one of the most useful things ever.

download

Tab Mix Plus

The complete features of this are too many to list: put simply, it makes tabbed browsing infinitely more powerful. This allows you to middle click empty tab space to reopen closed tabs, reorder your tabs, highlight new tabs which have not been viewed, change the order tabs open when you close your current tab - the list is endless.

download

Regular Expressions Tester

If you've ever used Regular Expressions, you'll appreciate how useful being able to test them in real time is. If you haven't - well, this definitely isn't one for you.

download

I must say, I'm quite liking Sun Microsystems' new strategy. Here are some more suggestions for them:

• Use Java, and get a free copy of Firefox now!
• Visit the Java homepage, and we'll tap fresh water to your house!
• Subscribe to BlueSunCorp now and enjoy a limitless supply of breathable air on our behalf!

Gravity Gun

Yep, it's none other than a Counter Strike Source version of Half Life 2's gravity gun. Makes for ultimate fun, with the dynamic objects present in most CSS maps. And if that's not enough - they all explode on impact.

> download (server addon)

> servers

Realism Mod

With features like heartbeat, heavy breathing, loss of accuracy and bleeding, this addon really turns the game into a tactitions dream. If you shoot someone's arm, you'll render them unable to fire their weapon - and if you've never liked the fact that your enemies can aim perfectly, no matter how many rounds you pump into them, then this mod is for you.

> download (server addon)

> servers

Gibs and Gore

"When a player dies", describes the author of this addon, "they are reduced to a small pile of bones and a bloody mess". Don't think I could summarise it better myself!

> download (server addon)

> servers

Translocators

Exactly what it says on the tin. Just like the translocators in Unreal Tournament, this allow you to fire off a spinning, coloured disk, and at a moment's notice teleport to wherever it landed.

> download (server addon)

> servers

Explosive Deaths

Ragdoll physics are yesterday's technology. With Explosive Deaths, instead of crumpling to the floor in a heap, when they die your enemies will explode. Hugely satisfying.

> download (server addon)

> servers

Want to write your own CSS mod? It's not difficult at all, and all the instructions you'll need for doing so can be found here.

Starting projects for anything new can be fairly daunting - but if you're a fan of Valve's Source games, you can be writing addons for their games within a week. Mattie's Eventscripts makes writing server addons a breeze - and if you want to see the kind of things you can create, look no further than my post on CS Source Mods.

1. Brush up on Python

If this scares you off, hold for a moment. Even if you don't know how to code in Python, it's one of the easiest languages to learn - even if you have little or no coding experience whatsoever. If you can understand simple logic, and have a passion for problem solving, you'll not have much difficulty at all getting to grips with it - and if you're looking for a place to start, check out Getting into coding in 8 steps.

Eventscripts actually comes with two languages built in - I've chosen to write about Python because in my opinion it's both easier and more readable than the inbuilt shell language - and if you're coming to it without knowing either, you might as well begin with it. If you already have experiences with interpreted languages, you'll find Python infinitely easier to follow anyway - plus it's magnitudes faster than the built in language, and has more power.

2. Set up a Source Server

If you're already an admin of a server, with FTP access, this makes things easier - but even still, you can quickly and easily set up your own dedicated server on your home PC. There are two ways of doing this - and I'd recommend the first method over the second.

• Download and install SRCDS from http://www.srcds.com/

or

• Go to Steam > Tools > Dedicated Server

You can get away without a server for the most basic of scripts, but without somewhere to test what you write, you'll be in difficulty when you come to release a working version.

There is a great tutorial for everything you need to do while setting up SRCDS here, I recommend you follow this as best you can.

3. Download and set up Eventscripts 2.0 (or greater)

Crucially, it's only versions 2.0 and upwards of Eventscripts that include Python, so make sure you get a copy from here. After that you'll need to unzip it to the right location: if you're using SRCDS, you need to go to:

C:\srcds\cstrike\addons

And make sure you unzip the files to the directory structure they follow in the zip file. There is an awesome screencast with explicit instructions for how to do this here.

Don't forget to create a file called:

cstrike/cfg/autoexec.cfg

And place the line 'mattie_eventscripts 1' somewhere in there, to tell eventscripts to enable events (this is very important).

4. Write your first script!

• First you want to create a file on your server called:

cstrike/addons/eventscripts/myscript/myscript.py

Importantly, the script name must be the same as the folder it is in

• The first line in your script should be as follows:

import es

This is vital for interacting with the game; with the es module contains all of the functions and methods you will need for:

- Displaying outputs in the form of text messages, menus, effects, sounds

- Getting information about the server and the users on it

And a whole load of other things. It is extremely unlikely you will not need this, as without it you will be unable to interact with the server in any meaningful way.

• Functions can act as in game 'events' - these are called when things happen in game, and let you run code when they do

For example:

def player_jump(event_var):
es.msg(event_var['es_username'] + ' has jumped')

Let's analyse each section of this:

def player_jump(event_var):

This registers the event 'player_jump' to be called by your script. Obviously, this is called whenever any player jumps. The 'event_var' is the variable eventscripts passes data about the event to, in the form of a dictionary, for example, who jumped, where did they jump, what is their name.

All of the available events can be seen here

es.msg(

This is a function which displays text in the chat area of the screen for all players.

All of the available funtions can be seen here.

event_var['es_username']

This is, very simply, the player name associated with the event.

• Variables exist for the full duration of the time a script is loaded

This means that they are ideal for small data storage: global variables exist until a script is unloaded or the server is rebooted or shut down. Gobal variable scope, as would be expected, is limited to the script itself.

• Scripts must be 'loaded' before they take effect.

Very simply, this is so that Eventscripts can tell which scripts to call, which events to register, and so on. To load a script, simple type 'es_load myscript' into your SRCDS console; or, if you want a script to load every time you run your server, create a file called:

cstrike/cfg/autoexec.cfg

And place the line 'es_load myscript' somewhere in there.

5. Documentation and Examples

There's only so much that can be said in the space of one post: in order to fully realise the potential of eventscripts, you need to read up on the forums, see some examples, and understand how everything ties in. I recommend the following links as a means of getting started:

http://eventscripts.com/

http://python.eventscripts.com/

http://forums.mattie.info/

http://addons.eventscripts.com/