Dudley's dungeon

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Tuesday, 29 January, 2008 by Kernigh
                    
                    
                    
                    
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A little dart shoots out at you! You are almost hit by a dart.
                    
                    
                    
                    
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A trap doorI knew my Erik too well to feel at all comfortable on jumping
into his house. I knew what he had made of a certain palace at
Mazenderan. From being the most honest building conceivable, he
soon turned it into a house of the very devil, where you could
not utter a word but it was overheard or repeated by an echo.
With his trap-doors the monster was responsible for endless
tragedies of all kinds.
        [ The Phantom of the Opera, by Gaston Leroux ]

Copyright (c) 1994, 1995, 1996 by the NetHack Development Team
Copyright (c) 1994 by Boudewijn Wayers
NetHack may be freely redistributed. See license for details.
in the ceiling opens and a rockBilbo saw that the moment had come when he must do something.
He could not get up at the brutes and he had nothing to shoot
with; but looking about he saw that in this place there were
many stones lying in what appeared to be a now dry little
watercourse. Bilbo was a pretty fair shot with a stone, and
it did not take him long to find a nice smooth egg-shaped one
that fitted his hand cosily. As a boy he used to practise
throwing stones at things, until rabbits and squirrels, and
even birds, got out of his way as quick as lightning if they
saw him stoop; and even grownup he had still spent a deal of
his time at quoits, dart-throwing, shooting at the wand,
bowls, ninepins and other quiet games of the aiming and
throwing sort - indeed he could do lots of things, besides
blowing smoke-rings, asking riddles and cooking, that I
haven't time to tell you about. There is no time now. While
he was picking up stones, the spider had reached Bombur, and
soon he would have been dead. At that moment Bilbo threw.
The stone struck the spider plunk on the head, and it dropped
senseless off the tree, flop to the ground, with all its legs
curled up.
        [ The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien ]

Copyright (c) 1994, 1995, 1996 by the NetHack Development Team
Copyright (c) 1994 by Boudewijn Wayers
NetHack may be freely redistributed. See license for details.
falls on your head! Fortunately, you are wearing a hard helmet.
                    
                    
                    
                    
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