This is a multi-part message in MIME format.

- ------=_NextPart_000_002C_01BCD7A2.50C51BA0
Content-Type: text/plain;
charset="iso-8859-1"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable

Well, I got much more than the 10 people I needed as a minimum for the =
beginning of a PBEM Birthright game in my campaign world. I swear, this =
is the last notice you will see here on this group.

I will give a bit of a teaser (hope it doesn't sound too cheesy)...


A cold wind blows across the Stonecrowns, and down into the Heartlands =
of Anuire. A fog rolls on to the cliffs of the western coasts, and a =
strange mist heads inland. A soothsayer travels from country to =
country, state to state, saying he sees evil tidings ahead. "Our only =
hope..." he says, "is to unite the Anuirean Empire of Roele once more... =
nay... not that.. rather to forge a new empire. For the beginning =
answers, look to the Cwildon province. He or she who controls Cwildon =
province of Mhoried in a year, will know the beginnings of the answer on =
how to reunite the people of Cerilia." With the words of the =
soothsayer, the Gorgon begins rumbling within his stronghold. Rumors =
run abroad of the forming of a massive army in the heart of his =
territory. Sailors on the southeastern coast report strange lights =
moving about at sea, like a massive navy, yet when naval ships move to =
intercept these ships, they find nothing. And far to the north, a dark =
skinned race of people speaking an unknown language land on the shores =
of Svinik. They stay for a very short time, and sail away, leaving only =
a scrap of parchment... with two words, strangely written in the Rjurik =
language.... "Roele" and "lost".

The time is now. The pieces are in place. The orchestra's engaged. Now =
it's time to see if you can dance. Only the strong of mind shall =
prevail.

(Ok... guess where I stole part of that quote from :)
-