From: intraphase@gmail.com

Chorus: What is your Name?

Player: I AM WHO I AM

Chorus: What shall we call you on this stage that has opened.


Player: You shall call me " Y-Clang " renowned story teller of
The illustrious province of healing powers.

Chorus: What is the name of this province.

Player: This province of barriers and bridges is secluded deep in
The Middle Plateau and is named


Beeg Fuhken Dheel Province

Chorus: Are we The Chorus of The No-One or are we the many Alls
And how shall we be called forth into this story.


Player: Both and You are to be called The Cry-Chang-E chorus.

Chorus: Why are we so named by The Player.

Player: The Player is telling a story of changing
Desperation into Determination once
The Path is chosen and is leading into

The Path of Knowledge.


Chorus: We are ready to continue and Cry-Chang-E is here.





Beeg Fuhken Dheel Province


The Path of Knowledge


Chorus: We are ready to continue and Cry-Chang-E is here.












The Gift of The Double Lady

This Story takes place in China province. A dusty outpost where the
fallen masters of antiquity come to regain their center and stop the ways
of inflicting raging death unto those who choose not to follow their paths
and yet shall not mock or degrade their path knowing they are unknowing.



It is an ancient healing ritual used to prove to the High Masters that in
their lust for power they are trying to heal people who are not sick in the
first place. The people of Beeg Fuhken Dheel province are highly skilled in
this procedure of healing the masters because many masters forget the quest
is for balance and that power is merely one of the ten thousand pathways of
life yet a true path if followed ,explored and balanced by The Heart.


The Gift of The Double Lady

Narrator Y-Clang The Toll Taker
Chorus Cry-Chang-E of Antiquity
Observer Bhagda Duder
Teacher Dark Eyed Lady
Participant El Diablero
Teacher Lady Small Feat
Soothsayer Iguana Hagawanna


#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#


A dark black curtain with small diamonds on the bottom and golden side buntings slowly rises revealing a double sidewalked bridge over a rapidly rushing river below.
There is a toll booth in the middle of the bridge between the
two roadways that cross it and allow traffic to pass in each direction.
At the toll booth Y-clang the Tolltaker is playing checkers with Iguana
the local Soothsayer waiting as the sun rises over the horizon and the days traffic between Beeg Fuhken Dheel province and the rural country begins to slowly cross the bridge.


Chorus Cry-Chang-E

What shall happen this day on the Bridge of Silence between the
Great City and the Countryside.


The hills that surround the province shelter the low valley from the direct sunlight of the rising day and cast soft pale shadows downward onto the swiftly moving waters of Silent River. In the pools and eddies on either side of the river the people of both the city and the countryside are usually gathered in small groups for the daily libations of the cleaning rituals and the gathering of water for the day ahead. The swiftly moving waters of the river are a permanent source of the purest of waters and run down from the high mountain peaks that are forever shrouded in the clouds and barely visible in the distant northern horizon.

As the grey of dawn approaches casting its pink underlines and reddening overtones tones to the clouds moving in formation overhead from west to east the scurrying of the river goers is a barely heard softly muted dance that is echoed and timed by the
very middle of the rivers tumultuous currents and catapulting whiteheads and frothing pure blue crescendos.

From a point half way up the nearest hills on both sides of the river are two rocky outcroppings per side which have been blasted with fire powders and burrowed deeply into and dugout formidably to form two huge hollow standing rocks anchored to the very volcanic bedrock underneath with a
precisely cylindrical tunnel carved into the hardest earth to a great depth.
Out of these double manmade chasms on either side of Silent River in the steely grey blue rock of the ancient and early days of the rivers rise four great columns of woven steel beams that were brought at great expense from the capital of a distant province by steam locomotive to the other side of the hills on either side of the river. Strapped to huge trees that had been felled in the dark forests upriver just for that task the mighty woven steel pillars were tightly strapped and precariously floated and pulled up river along the banks by over two hundred workmen in the three week time of the rivers calm in late summer twenty years ago.
The raising of the pillars and the stringing of the lines that would hold the suspension bridge in its hangings and slings were a dreadful task that the people of both the Great City and the Countryside were forced to cooperate in to achieve the safest and strongest sitting of the basic steel pillar forms that would allow the bridge to be rapidly replaced and reboarded with new plankings handrails and attached mesh guardrails on that rare occasion
when the mountain snows would suddenly warm in their lofty abyss high above the deep river valley and unleash a torrent of pure waters through the
the Great Gorge undertows that had been carefully selected because of
the strength of its rocky outcroppings on either side and the permanence of the four woven steel pillars which formed the essential unbreakable foundation and anchors of the bridge. Upon these four essential pillars all the other components and mechanism could be quickly rebuilt and replaced after the rarest of and most frightful unleashing of the vast reservoirs of pure waters that were stored seemingly forever in the distant mountains peaks above the clouds.


Chorus Cry-Chang-E

Who is that man approaching from the Great City to the south and
why is he the first man this morning to walk upon the Bridge of Silence.


On the Countryside of The Bridge of Silence is a main road of good width from which many small tracks diverge into the low hills that lie at the foot of the great mountains above. Early before dawn each day a young warrior of the ancient temple of Bhagda hidden halfway up the great northern mountains that towered above the crest line of the Great Gorge would set forth to come down the mountain and cross the Bridge to roam about the Great City looking for news of events in far off lands that could be reported to the secret society of the temple of Bhagda.

--- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05
* Origin: www.darkrealms.ca (1:229/2)