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A Grey Pawn (There is no Sanctuary)Mature
Tyrael, Archangel of Justice; Baal, Lord of Destruction; Diablo, Lord of Terror; The Wanderer, subduer of Diablo; all of these are contenders for the mightiest entity that Sanctuary has ever known.
Yet there is a tie that binds them even closer. All of them have depended on one particular mortal, at one time or another. One man has felt all of their weights on his shoulders.
It should be no wonder that they broke him.
The jungle was alive with noise. Shrieking, snapping, plopping, sliding, dripping; the nuances were endless, and every last one of them made him nauseous.
They all brought unwelcome images to his head. Though some of these were true memories, most of them were products of his imagination. Still, he was certain that they were real. Past, present, or future, they were reality.
Just as he was resolving that all this screeching really was coming from the tormented souls that plagued his thoughts, a real scream came from beyond the foliage directly in front of him. This was most certainly human; male, to be precise. It repeated several times, with a dull accompaniment of cracking, thudding, slicing, and splashing.
The relief was meager, but welcome. At least now he knew that those other sounds weren't what he'd thought. They'd have sounded more like this.
He recalled how his former self would have reacted. When had he been? Days, weeks, or months ago? Perhaps it didn't matter; he was no more. This him would not be so naïve. Reacting would be redundant.
Where before he'd have crouched and slinked aside, creeping only close enough to know how to avoid whatever was there, he now hobbled onward exactly as he had been doing to that point. He'd approach the scene with all the dread and none of the caution. If there'd been one lesson he'd learned from his journey, it was that imagination and reality were equally horrible. It made no difference whether it was the mind or body's eye that bore witness to this.
Branches scratched and vines snagged, disapproving of his path as they'd done since he'd left the Temple of Light. They were as pathetic about it as his inhibitions were. His trail led him through the screams, so through them he'd go.
A clearing slid into view between the trees. The scattered campfires and torches cast long shadows over its inhabitants, exposing their movement between the decorative tribal shields and wicked pikes well before the owners were actually visible. He'd seen several places like this before, perhaps he'd even seen this exact one; it was no wonder that such horrible sounds would be found here.
The indigenous, half-sized Fetishes scrambled madly about their camp, babbling and chattering incoherently. The probable source of the earlier screams was plainly visible, hanging from a post planted near a bubbling cauldron. From the grisly state he was in, he'd apparently lived long enough to witness his tastiest bits being boiled. Two tiny tribesmen tended to the pot, picking off the skeleton and adding it to the stew when they deemed it appropriate.
Just outside the camp's boundaries, the growing pile of inedible person suggested that the Fetishes were experiencing a period of plenty.
He folded his arms protectively against his chest and stomach, the posture making his precarious manner of walking seem even more peculiar. Despite the appalling terror all around him, this was all he would allow himself to do as his feet moved unhesitatingly onward.
Blood and violence filled his peripheral vision, crying and snarling assaulted his ears, but none of it changed anything. He would neither contemplate the individual atrocities nor attempt to ignore them. Any such action would be a waste.
A lone fetish scurried into his path, though the miniature man didn't acknowledge his presence until it had taken a step past. Suddenly aware, it undid its last motion and swiveled to face the trespasser.
Its narrowed white eyes were barely visible between the filthy black mess that dangled over its forehead. The lips and some portions of cheek were missing, permanently locking the exposed, pointed teeth into a hateful sneer.
It growled and repeatedly gnashed at him, brandishing a spear that was slightly taller than itself. The newcomer halted his shamble, wondering if this lunatic might call its clansmen over, or perhaps claim this meager meal by itself.
As the savage continued his hateful snarling, the passerby suddenly recognized something. Despite how revolting and horrifying his surroundings were, it wasn't until he'd felt this familiarity that he physically recoiled in terror.
Now that he'd lain eyes on Him, it was only natural that he'd know His influence when he saw it. This maniac was saturated in it.
It was as though He was here, looming behind this half-sized man. His visage was still fresh in mind. That creature's remaining skin was dry and stretched tightly around the skeleton. Two fingers, bone entirely exposed, were all that remained of the hands and forearms, and the flesh on the arms and abdomen was receding. To see such a wretch moving as though alive would have been terrifying enough, but such a detail was marginalized by the two exceedingly-long, curved horns adorning the skull, the two spinal flagellates protruding from its back, and the indeterminate mist that the torso seemed to be floating upon.
Even his grisly appearance was nothing compared to its voice. Recalling that verbatim brought the pain back to his heart, a sensation that convincingly suggested the organ was being used as a pincushion.
"The skies shall rain fire, and the seas will become as blood. The righteous shall fall before the wicked, and all of creation shall tremble before the burning standards of Hell!"
Were the words born of mortal lips, the speaker would undoubtedly be seen as a sensationalist madman. From His mouth, however, that future seemed as certain to occur as the past was to have happened. If this entity said so, then mankind must be doomed.
To hope's credit, this lone mortal witness to that meeting was anything but certain that his memories of the past could possibly be reality. There might still be room to question this prophecy.
The chattering fanatic in front of him now was the solution to the mystery that defined Kurast. Ever since his arrival, he'd wondered how the Fetishes and Zakarum could fail to see the horrid price they'd pay for their loyalty. He had thought that they'd be consumed in the end, no different than the innocents they slaughtered, but that presupposition had been false.
This creature had nothing but hate left in him; Hatred had consumed him, literally it seemed, and the only use its Lord had left for the puppet was to direct that hate towards new sources of nourishment. The consequence had preceded their servitude, and the mortal accessories in Kurast's demise were no less pitiable than the victims they continually claimed.
He wouldn't call it 'recovery,' but the man began to feel accustomed to the revulsion that this dark recollection brought. He stepped forward, prompting the seething Fetish to waddle aside, all the while blathering its incoherent curses.
It wasn't long before he heard the tiny slap of footsteps over moss, a sign that the Fetish was returning to whatever errand he'd interrupted. Why had he not called for help in detaining the trespasser? He supposed it was probable that he seemed undesirable in the presence of the many meatier specimens they'd already captured.
Still, he'd seen enough to know that most of their murders fulfilled even less purpose than their cannibalistic ones. He'd seen the way they hunted, hacking and mutilating and poisoning their victims far beyond the point of edibility. Unless a person could only benefit them while it still lived, they'd go out of their way to kill it. Why, then, would they let him pass, when he'd made the hunt so convenient for them?
He feared the answer to that question; he suspected he'd known it well before he'd decided to pass through the camp rather than around it. It was not an answer he wanted confirmation for.
A group of Fetishes emerged from the trees he was heading towards. They ambled into camp, surrounding a blindfolded man being led by the excess rope that bound his wrists together. With a care that deceptively resembled consideration, they helped him keep his balance and avoid the obstacles that might knock him off his feet. The most convenient way they could transport their meal was to have the food walk into camp on its own feet.
Not long after their arrival, another, much larger shape appeared in the foliage. The glinting reflection of fire off its eyes called attention to it long before the figure could be distinguished from the surrounding jungle.
It was covered in reptilian scales, colored a black just light enough to possess a greenish tint. It walked on two legs, though its hunched-forward posture brought the ground easily within arms' reach. Either spines or horns were protruding from every joint and corner. Its fangs and claws would make perfect replacements for a farmer's sickle in both size and sharpness. Could this be a natural predator in this jungle? How could any man, Fetish or civilized, bring themselves to settle near something so honed for slaughter?
The intruder's direction would bring him very close to both the hunting party and the creature that followed them, though not so close that he'd actually collide with any. Some quiet part of him was desperately tugging at his attention, begging him to stop or otherwise attempt to avoid these beings.
It was the same voice that had reminded him that his old self would have circled around the camp, rather than passing through it. It was a voice he was compelled to ignore. A larger part of him, perhaps the largest remaining part, hoped that he would die here. His weariness had overcome his wariness.
A separate logic agreed with his decision, though for different reasons; if he happened to survive the stroll through this nightmare, it would mean something worse than death.
The rearmost Fetish in the returning party glanced over his shoulder as their stalker crossed the threshold between jungle and camp. It spun around and cried a shrill warning, leveling its crude spear at the hulking reptile.
His companions raced back to join him, instinctively falling into a line formation. Their voices formed a chorus of unwelcoming threats, but the beast showed no sign of heeding them. It lumbered forward, the narrow slits of its yellow eyes focused on their confused prisoner.
The beast seemed unconcerned with their hostility. With an occasional sniff at the breeze blowing downwind from the camp, it intently continued to approach the captured man. When he came within arms' reach of the Fetish's captive, it stopped and brought its right hand forward.
The Fetish holding the prisoner's lead lashed out with his spear, inflicting a superficial wound in the reptile's forearm. The tiny savage yanked it back and thrust again, this time snapping the rotting shaft of his weapon in two as the tip failed to embed itself in the monster's flesh.
With a halfhearted grunt, the beast swung an open hand down on his attacker. The little cannibal's legs gave way easily, visibly snapping when the blow made contact. A high-pitched squeal could barely escape its lungs before the creature's hand came to rest flat against the ground.
Its comrades instantly scattered back into the camp without a second glance at their fallen tribesman or their captive. The onlooker could not blame them; even without the wicked claws, spikes, and horns covering its body, this monster possessed the strength to easily bludgeon even an armored man to death.
"Who's there? What's happening?" The captive human seemed rightfully confused by the commotion around him. The blindfold would prevent him from knowing why, but it seemed he understood that his kidnappers had fled.
The creature began to lift its hand off the swatted Fetish, pinching the prisoner's leash between its thumb and index finger as it did. The broken form of the Fetish showed no sign of movement. Its head and legs were twisted in unnatural ways, and the chest had collapsed into itself.
With what seemed a light tug, the man was yanked off his feet, falling to his hands and knees as though prostrating himself before his new captor. Unsurprisingly, the monster seemed oblivious to the accidental gesture. Its attention was fully captured by something else; whatever was occupying its mind had prompted it to begin salivating, with several strings of drool already dangling from its mandible.
The tip of its claw poked at the man's chin, drawing a drop of blood in spite of how delicate the motion had been. Savvy to the blade's sharpness, the man put great effort into ensuring it didn't dig deeper as the humanoid lizard tilted his face upward.
Certain that its fearsome face would be the first thing this wretch would lay eyes upon, it dragged the tip of another scythe-claw over the center of the man's blindfold.
The severed cloth instantly fell away, and the look in his eyes transformed from hopelessness into morbid horror. This man, certain of being slaughtered as livestock, had found that his fate was a thousand times worse.
The maw opened slowly, an action taken with peculiar care and deliberation. There was a methodical air about the scene, as though a botanist was exhibiting the proper way to harvest some difficult and invaluable herb.
A froglike tongue unraveled and spilled through the opening, lapping along the rim to wet it. A set of four larger, snakish fangs drew attention from the surrounding set of smaller carnivorous spikes, all of which sparkled with each sporadic flicker of torchlight.
The victim trembled and whimpered uncontrollably as he watched the tongue draw closer. His eyes were locked on the tip as it landed on his shoulder, a contact that spurred an involuntary flinch. The prehensile muscle snaked its away around his neck and proceeded up the back of his head, finally draping itself over the scalp as the lizard tightened out the slack.
The man lost his composure when the tongue began to retract. He grasped the sopping appendage in both hands and screamed with all his might, climbing to his feet and bracing himself against the mechanical pull. His resistance would seem formidable, were it not for the obvious relaxation in the aggressor's stance.
The reptile stood at ease, and as its prey thrashed and wailed with increasing violence, its eyes began to glaze and roll backward. This wasn't the natural, efficient manner of a predator-by-necessity. There was no clamping of the jugular, no injection of poison to pacify the desperate meal. This monster seemed to relish the opposition more than the imminent meal, as though the man's terror were more physically nutritious than his substance.
At this rate, it would be hours before the man exhausted himself, before the tongue reluctantly reeled its meal in...
The onlooker suddenly knew for certain that this was no natural denizen of the jungle, at least not anymore. He knew all too well what this demon was, and worse, he knew exactly who it served.
The revelation was more potent than the screams, the blood, the gore, perhaps even worse than what he witnessed in that deep durance. This scenario harkened to that time, and all the times before it, bringing that forever-long, hellish past back to this terrifying present.
He'd spent an indeterminable eternity with this minion's lord, though his identity had been ambiguously trapped between two entities. This monster was a particle of the ominous cloud that had followed them from the West, the looming doom that had drawn increasingly nearer as his companion's human persona faded further and further away.
He had begun as the Wanderer, but if that man had every truly been real, he was no more. All that remained of him now was pure, undisguised Terror.
As though it were he that was tugging for his life, the foreign man lost himself to instinct. His legs, so atrophied that it seemed a wonder they didn't break upon the impact, propelled him forward.
"Wait, please!" The tangled man cried out when he spotted his escape. "Please, help me!"
The pleas fell only on ears deafened by madness. The sound was lost in the chorus of demon and victim.
With each step he swiped an arm forward, at times supporting his flight by grasping a vine or balancing against a rock, at others making it seem as though he were reaching for some escaping, invisible prize that fluttered just in front of him.
His worst fear had been confirmed, his hopeful ignorance shattered. When he'd left the Wanderer's company, there had been a small consolation to his guilt: whatever mistake he'd just made, whatever horror he'd just unleashed by acquiescing that pitiable, tortured soul, his path of penance had been laid out for him.
He had seen who was held prisoner there, and the means by which he was constrained. So for that mighty angel, the ultimate judge of crime and sentencing, to seemingly need to beg for his participation…
Somehow, it had felt like exoneration. As mindlessly as he had followed the Wanderer across the desert, he'd followed Tyrael's instructions step-by-step. Where the instinctual understanding of what would happen if he disobeyed the Wanderer's silent commands once dwelled, something new and mildly wonderful had taken its place. Was it a sense of duty, or perhaps gratitude that gently pushed him across the sea and shrouded his movements through the ruins of Kurast? Opposite in polarity but just as abstract, his servitude had been blind, free of hesitation up until he slunk into that once-hallowed chamber…
It was like the superior influences of the Heavens and the Hells stalemated in him then, as deadlocked as their armies had purportedly been for some unfathomable number of epochs. The fog over his mind seemed to thin, leaving the unwelcome, lonely clarity that was his own consciousness to direct his next action.
Allowing this cursed freedom to linger, he watched their meeting transpire. He watched as his old companion forsook his disguise, shedding and shaking his way out of humanity like a snake does its molted skin.
The true form was more terrifyingly majestic than he could have imagined. The crimson of his naked form was too vibrant to be dulled by the darkness, deeper and fuller than the blood-flooded moat that ran through the chamber.
He seemed double his height, if not more, and appropriately thicker. Spikes, long and thick enough to impale several of him on each, erupted from his back. It would be a wonder to see even the hardiest warrior slip a blade past any of the numerous horns that framed his face and neck.
The way that the makeshift bridge of bones cracked under his weight suggested that even that miracle would be futile; the sharpened points of ribs and razor-tipped splinters showed no sign of piercing whatever material composed his flesh.
He had paused in the threshold between worlds, the stream of tormented soul that flowed over him screaming louder as it broke upon him. It had been his older brother that prompted the pause, but even that influence seemed nothing more than a minor and unwelcome distraction to him. His purpose had been clear without any guidance, and it would not change, no matter how great the interference.
How could the memory of his shepherd overpower the direct presence of these lions?
A sudden, harsh impact on his chest and chin broke him from his panic. He bounced once and skidded painfully over the rock, covering his frail form in abrasions.
It took him several seconds to work through the daze. He had forgotten that he'd been running; perhaps he'd forgotten that he was the beast that he was, an inferior creature that could solve so many of its marginal problems with such scampering. It was so easy to get lost on that unfathomable plane, so many levels above his own, that even the burning in his legs, lungs, and throat couldn't pull him back to what he understood as reality.
How could he be so troubled about their evil, when he could so easily forget himself? If he lost this body, would he not lose himself? Why should he fear anything when he'd forgotten all about the only thing he need fear losing?
He lingered there, flat on his stomach. There was an understanding that the jungle around him was saturated with things that lived to capitalize on this helplessness, that he was at the mercy of creatures so pathetic as ants and snakes, but this understanding did nothing to move him. He knew what his worst fear was, and now that he knew it was real, it was his only fear.
Ever since he'd arrived in the Kehjistan, he'd warily prowled through the jungle, constantly scanning his surroundings and carefully avoiding the slightest hints of danger. He'd gone to great lengths to avoid being detected by anything remotely demonic, and he'd struggled to bear the atrocities he was forced to witness. He had struggled with all his meager being to sneak through to the Temple of Light.
None of it had been necessary. His trek through the Fetish camp had proved it: the forces of Hell would not harm or harry him. They saw him as a confederate, perhaps as though he were a demon himself.
Since when? Had it been this way since the beginning, when the Wanderer had stumbled into that mountain hostel? Could it have been that which spared him when the monastery fell?
Why? Why did such powers, be they heavenly or hellish, invest even the slightest attention in him? What use could they possibly have for so ordinary, so average a man?
What of his service to the angels? Had they simply not known, or perhaps they knew that he didn't have the courage or integrity to withstand his employ?
He had let himself hope that it was this will, his own, small, individual will, that had compelled him to retrace his path out of the Zakarum temple and back into the overtaken city. Perhaps it had been, for a very short while, but it certainly was no longer.
Still, this time was different. They had given him no instructions, but their minions treated him as one of their own. Could it possibly be that their only agenda for him now was that he go about his own business? How could they possibly benefit from that?
Regardless, knowing that his survival was not by virtue of his own stealth, Heaven's charge seemed all the more impossible. How could he be expected to step beyond that threshold, knowing what would be done to him for defying the brothers? Why must he declare his allegiance with the Heavens from the depths of the Hells?
The moment he stepped through that gate, he'd have gone against Hell's will, and horrors far beyond those he'd witnessed thus far would have been set upon him.
"Tyrael," he cried softly, his lament blunted against the mossy stone. "Yours was so much crueler…"
It had always been impossible. Were he given another chance at life, trained through its entirety in the ways of the warrior, and gifted with the finest armaments man could muster, it still couldn't have been enough. It simply wasn't a task any man could complete.
He was shivering involuntarily, but he had no desire to climb up off this cold, damp peat. This was the most physical comfort he'd felt in what seemed like ages. Was there any place left in this world where he could find better rest?
What was he to do now? The Wanderer had reached his destination, and acquiescing Tyrael – to follow the Wanderer further – was something he could not do. His agenda was no longer governed by another will, but it had been so long since he'd owned it, he no longer knew what to do with it.
What had he done in the past, with this freedom? It had all seemed so natural, then. He hadn't questioned how he'd come to live at the monastery. Truly, wouldn't he make that same choice without hesitation now, if he could?
The only surprise had been that the Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye would tolerate men in their home. True, they had made it clear that they would never have 'brothers,' but he had no need for such honorifics. Their tolerance was plenty for him.
All of them were so beautiful; even the elderly seemed fair and curvaceous. Beauty didn't seem a priority to them, and it made them all the more charming. They were devout to their faith, and that faith seemed so sensible, so logical. It was motivated by equal parts duty and piety, honor and gospel. They guarded the pass fervently, but with the kindness they showed to strangers, one could easily wonder what they were guarding the pass from.
The monastery was a marvel of serenity. It was enormous, and every bit of it was elegantly crafted in polished stone. The grounds were clean and well-kempt, partially due to the direct efforts of the sisters, but largely due to their influence over visitors and lodgers like himself.
No task seemed too great were they to ask it. They would never call themselves employers, nor would he assign them that label, but the amount of work he'd done on their behalf would suggest that they were. Jobs came in the guise of favors, delegated through kind words from sweet lips.
Chauvinists were fools, or at best naïve. A world ruled by women was a world ruled by angels. His days at the monastery convinced him of this; he wondered if even the High Heavens could compete with such a paradise.
Before he'd realized it, he was back on his feet and walking again. He had no destination; rather, he doubted his destination still existed. Still, it seemed as though his memories of the Rogue Monastery had inspired something resembling hope.
A glance at his surroundings reminded him that his path had not been through pure jungle. All of this had been considered a part of Kurast, capitol of Kehjistan. Much, perhaps most of it had been abandoned long enough for the jungle to reclaim it, but carved stone and terrace were still plainly visible under the moss and vine.
The city must have been truly grand in its prime. Considering the scope of his travels through it, the fact that the Fetishes were still finding civilians to feast upon seemed a more plausible reality.
He flinched as a great noise, like a clap of thunder, sounded in the distance behind him. Turning to look, he could hear the flapping and cawing of jungle fowl reacting to the noise, but the canopy and foliage were far too thick to find any visual evidence of whatever had caused the uproar.
What horrors were they unleashing upon the mortal world now?
It mattered little; there was nothing he could do about it, and he doubted it could possibly affect him any more than what he'd already seen. He continued his journey.
Both the city and the jungle were becoming sparser ahead of him. He knew that the docks – the last bastion of civilized Kurast – lay just beyond this marshy stretch.
He didn't know how, but he knew that people still lived there; they worked, loitered, presumably even slept in such proximity to the madness and chaos that saturated these ruins.
His feet were already thudding across occasional planks of chopped wood, clearly laid much more recently to support the weight of anyone trying to traverse this quagmire. Though soggy, the encroaching moss had not carpeted these as severely as they had the stone throughout the rest of the city.
It was oddly difficult for him to recall whether or not he'd passed through here before. He had left the wanderer at Tal'Rasha's tomb and encountered him again at the Zakarum temple. Traveling by ship from Lut Gholein to Kurast would have been the quickest route. Had it been the one he'd taken?
That passage of time seemed lost; there were recollections of the dangers and horrors he'd encountered while passing through demonic territory, but the time he must have spent in the company of regular, civilized mortals was lost to him. The trip had been made possible by some blind fervor, a sensation infused by Tyrael's words.
He stopped abruptly. Something was intensely different. There was no way to describe how, but he was certain that his last step had crossed some kind of threshold. There was no other way to explain what he was feeling.
The emotions weren't his own, but they referenced his feelings so that he might understand a message that wasn't conveyable by language. An unwelcome presence had crossed into territory that had been warded. Specific measures had been taken to prevent the entry of this type of evil, and now that it had come here, the will of the presence and the strength of the ward were in direct conflict.
Were it not for the foreboding sense of evil about it, this disposition seemed as innocent and playful as a child's.
The source was clear; he didn't know if it made any actual physical sound, but the incoherent voice was coming from the breast pocket inside his burlap tunic. In confused wonderment, he pulled the object out, wincing from light that pulsed out of this amber shard of crystal.
It reveled in the abstract conflict it had with the warded territory. Someone had invoked powerful energies to keep the influence of the Hells out, but such measures could not hope to compete with the level of strength this stone possessed.
Its desire to destroy was palpable. A curiosity emanated from within as it pondered the ways it might crush this meager resistance. Would this barrier shatter when struck? Or perhaps it would crumple, like tin? There were so many ways to toy with it, but care must be taken. If too strong a method is used first, the opportunity to test the others would be forever lost.
He had not been specifically briefed for this purpose, but the stone's courier knew what was imprisoned within. He could remember that ancient incident as though he'd witnessed it himself. He truly had been the one to undo its purpose, though his intentions had only been to free that hallowed martyr from a torment that was no longer voluntary.
Still, he couldn't fathom how this could be reality. Was the demon lord's existence divided between this stone and Tal'Rasha's remains, or did it somehow exist fully in both places at once? The consciousness from this stone seemed broader than his own, easily more capable of calculation and cognition. There was no way to know if something so much greater than himself was complete or not.
He frowned with trembling chin and crescendoing heartbeat as he stared into the crystal. Was this the answer? The only thing that he could do more capably than this stone was travel.
Ever since he'd followed the Wanderer out of that wreckage in the pass, he'd felt like a figurine to be moved across some cosmic game board. Control over him had passed from the Wanderer's to Tyrael's; was he now being moved by the invisible hand of this cursed stone?
The feeling was different from before, but that could easily be the result of the different disposition. The feeling about the Wanderer had been imprecise; his aura could have been one of misery, suffering, or anger. Tyrael's had definitely been one of desperation. Might his current illusion of freedom be due to his current master's amusement?
This entity was definitely enjoying itself. It reveled in the present turmoil, and anxiously awaited the impending chaos like a child does its birthday celebration. The other deities had seemed unsatisfied and insatiable, but this one seemed carefree and detached.
Considering that further, this could be a merciful turn of fate. Where his previous masters had clearly defined what they wanted from him, this deity didn't seem to have any purpose for him whatsoever.
The Wanderer had never spoken it, but his order was clear: "Come." Had it been the will of the man, the mortal warrior? Or had it come from that unspeakable evil he'd attempted to contain? Perhaps there could be some way they agreed on this point? It was irrelevant now; all he knew was that the order had been given.
Tyrael's task had certainly been spoken, but the event was equally remarkable. One moment, he had been standing there, boggling over the object he'd just pulled from that pitiful wretch's chest, and the next, he was being hoisted off his feet and into an atmosphere curiously free of the sulfurous stench permeating Tal'Rasha's chamber.
"Go to the Temple of Light, in the eastern city of Kurast. There you will find the gate to Hell open before you. You must find the courage to step through that gate, Marius. Take the stone you hold to the Hellforge, where it will be destroyed. Now run! Take the stone and run!"
There was no agenda now. He had not been given any orders. If he were to ask the stone what he should do, he fully anticipated the answer would be in the form of a question.
"I wonder, what might you do, if it were up to you?"
Could such a mighty entity really be such a fool? Perhaps his failure was not completely such. Tyrael's request had been impossible for a mortal anyway, surely he should know this by now. Surely, if he fled, he'd be giving evil's enemies a chance to find him before the demons came looking for his cargo. Surely Tyrael could pass the burden to someone capable of shouldering it, and should Marius facilitate that scenario, surely his mistakes could be forgiven.
He began walking again, his pace several times quicker than before. There was a new kind of madness in his eyes. Sanity had fled long ago, but this new dementia carried a hint of hope with it.
There was light ahead, and movement. Torches cast flickering shadows over the stone terraces and the elevated, rickety walkways that connected them. Finally, he'd arrived.
The first mortal he spotted as he hobbled into the docks was so perfectly indicative of a normalcy he had thought lost that he felt compelled to gape.
The man was far older than what any average person could live to be. His skin was browned and wrinkled from its enormous exposure to the sun, and his frame was wiry and bent. This was a living relic, an antique of a dead generation.
He lounged on a short stone barrier, oblivious to the stranger that gawked at him. How could something so frail still exist in this world gone mad?
The sagely man's gaze slowly lifted from the ground and found its way to the newcomer. A light of awareness began to bleed through the dark irises, and a warm smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
The new arrival suddenly felt belligerent. Who was this old man to judge him? Were he to relinquish custody of this cursed stone, would he see it through that infernal portal? How could he look down on someone when he could do no better in the same situation?
He looked away and moved to resume his trek, but another resident's approach caused him to pause again.
"You now speak to Ormus." Another, much younger man, garbed in sparse, shamanistic attire seemed to notice the extraordinary nature of his arrival from the jungle.
Still, it was a presumptuous greeting and introduction. He hadn't spoken to anyone, nor could he honestly say he had intended to.
"Who is Ormus?" was the only response he could muster.
"Ormus is among those who remain because someone must," he answered. "He does not often see people approach from the direction you did. He would like to know the name of a man who did."
"Marius." The answer came unnaturally quickly. It had been so long since he used his own name, he was faintly surprised he remembered it at all. "I am called Marius."
"Is there anything that Ormus can do for you, Marius? Your trials must have been taxing."
"I need to get away from here," Marius carefully chose his words. "I need to get far away from here."
"Yes, this place is a battlefield. No one expects that they should find the elderly in such a place."
Elderly? Marius inspected himself; he had always been thin, but now he was so gaunt that his skin seemed wrinkly and loose. His bones were far more visible than they should be, and the hair on his arms seemed finer and greyer than it had been before. He was not yet old, but truly, he was beginning to look as if he were.
Even if he did look his age, this point was not worth arguing.
"Anywhere is fine," he pleaded. "Just please, help me get away from here. Point me in a direction where I will not find more demons."
"It has been said that we, and even Sanctuary itself, were born from the coupling of angels and demons. Ormus cannot point with any certainty and know you will not find that which you wish to avoid."
Marius spat to his side, an almost unconscious reaction of disgust. "What a cruel lie."
"Ormus understands that most men would find it hard to believe they share anything common with the denizens of the Hells."
"Not that," he shook his head, almost apologetic for his retort. He could understand that other bit; if angels were white and demons were black, could mankind be anything but grey? "The part about Sanctuary. Sanctuary is a lie. There is no sanctuary."
"Indeed." Ormus smiled sadly. "That name seems most pretentious. Yet you ask Ormus to point you towards it. Ormus will attempt to determine the next best alternative."
A loud rumbling descended through the sky some great distance behind Marius, a prelude to the greater calamity. He turned to find enormous balls of fire hurtling from the behind the clouds and into the earth below. Rapid flashes of white light rose above the jungle, completely independent of the rhythm with which the meteors were striking.
"Could there be a greater despair than knowing that our true torment has yet to begin?" Marius lamented.
"Though it may surprise you, Ormus sees this as a sign of hope," Ormus replied. "They do not resort to such measures lightly. They are besieged."
Marius said nothing as he considered what he was being told. Was a battle taking place? Had someone sent an army? Understandable, condonable, but still futile. Numbers would mean little against this foe.
"I need to leave this place," he reiterated, turning back to Ormus. "Please, help me escape."
"Yes," Ormus assured gently. "Meshif, he has recently returned. Perhaps he would bring you along on his next departure. If not, there are other ways."
"Anything," Marius asserted, again glancing towards the distant maelstrom. "Anywhere."
He didn't know what he would do when he got to wherever he might be going. Part of him was convinced he'd have been better off sharing the fate of any of the countless victims he'd had to observe. Still, he did not want to die.
That must be why he still lived. How could his fate have been decided by another, when such mighty powers were still fighting to decide it? Whatever hand had brought him here, he shouldn't assume that it guided him any longer. Certainly by now, it would be disappointed and jaded with the idea.
That must be it. His servitude was an experiment, a way by which mankind's usefulness was being tested. He could fathom no reason for the Heavens or Hells to be taking him away from that crucial location. It meant that they had concluded what he'd already known: men like Marius were no use to them.
Meekness was no sin; at worst, meekness was weakness. Surely, there was no way his meekness could be an instrument of doom. Surely, succumbing to his weakness, allowing it to make him fail, would ultimately result in some kind of setback for the one that enslaved him.
Marius doubted he'd need to explain it to anyone. Of the imminent apocalypse, or whatever this incident would come to be called, one feature about it would be plainly discernable. It wasn't his fault.


text:
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subset: commoncrawl


text:
Today is Pi Day
It's "Pi Day" around the world.
March 14 commemorates the mathematical ratio used in figuring out equations involving circles.
A YouTube video from MathMovesU talks about how Pi is used every day.
Pi is named after a Greek letter.
Today is chosen because of the date 3-14, which coincides with the first three digits in "Pi."
Some people celebrate the day with actual pie, the tasty bakery treat.
Next year, geeks worldwide will celebrate as they're able to commemorate the date and time where the first ten digits of "Pi" will be in perfect order.
That will first happen on 3-14-15 at 9:26:53 a.m.
This year's "Pi Day" celebration is made all the more sweet by the fact that today is also Albert Einstein's birthday.
Photo: Shutterstock


text:
Author has written 1 story for High School Musical.
My name is Monica.
I am in my 20's.
I live in Florida.
I am completely new to this whole fan fiction thing. I am currently working on a story and hope to have it up soon.
Stories I like: Hairspray, Zac and Nikki stories (I think they have great chemistry) High School Musical (BIG Traylor fan), Blood Ties, and Harry Potter.
In general I am a movie/television watcher, book reading, dancing/singing fool who loves all forms of entertainment.
Please be nice as I set things up and get more comfortable in this wonderful world of fiction.


text:
By IVES GALARCEP
Real Salt Lake's mission to erase the bad memories of last year's early U.S. Open Cup exit continued on its successful trajectory on Wednesday night, with a comprehensive 3-0 victory over the Carolina Railhawks.
RSL fullbacks Tony Beltran and Chris Wingert scored goals, while Alvaro Saborio added a second-half strike to book the team's place in the U.S. Open Cup semifinals.
Up next, Real Salt Lake will face the red-hot Portland Timbers, who are riding an 18-match unbeaten streak that was extended on Wednesday courtesy of a 3-2 victory vs. FC Dallas. RSL and the Timbers will meet in the U.S. Open Cup semifinals on August 7th at Rio Tinto Stadium.
Beltran opened the scoring in the 35th minute with a long-range blast, his second career U.S. Open Cup goal. Wingert added RSL's second in the 50th minute, while Saborio added an insurance tally in the 86th to seal the victory.
RSL now stands on the verge of reaching their first U.S. Open Cup Final, but must beat a streaking Portland side they will see plenty of in the coming months. RSL and the Timbers will meet three times in August, including a pair of MLS league meetings.
What did you think of RSL's victory? Impressed or disappointed with Carolina's performance? See RSL beating the Timbers in the semifinals?
Share your thoughts below.
RSL handled business. For Carolina to have a realistic shot at getting past Salt Lake they would have needed an awful lot of luck considering that the organization started the match missing five starters.
I understand that the league match on Saturday is huge for them seeing as how they can clinch the NASL spring championship if they win it and with it the right to host the NASL yearly championship but I was still disappointed that they went the personnel route that they did.
Obviously it's not just MLS clubs who feel obligated to deprioritize the USOC on some occasions. Maybe that is actually a good thing, a testament to how important winning the league is to Carolina but thw helpless romantic that I am–I still found it a bit disappointing…
The Timbers/RSL game should be really good. I expect both teams to load up their starting 11. Going to be an interesting August for both teams.
Excellent win. Now to keep getting stronger in league play and develop youngsters Olmes Garcia and salcedo. RSL and timbers should be entertaining with both teams willing to attack at will.
3-0 is not a romp, 5-1 is. Once again the Fire gets no recognition, Why? They are playing some of the best soccer in the MLS.


text:
As a nor'easter continues to plague the US east, many modes of transportation remain delayed and snarled.
While air travel remains a serious problem, roads and public transit are getting back up and running at an admirable pace. Here, we've rounded up air, public transportation, and driving conditions for two of the major metropolitan areas hit by the storm: New York and Boston. We'll be updating throughout the day in case travel conditions change.
In the meantime, be sure to follow our live blog for immediate updates on storm conditions.
New York City and New York state
Follow Port Authority's Twitter account for updates on the status of airports, rail, and buses in the greater New York City area.
Travel by air
For all airports in the region – JFK, La Guardia, Newark, and Stewart International Airport – follow @NY_NJairports on Twitter.
There are currently no flights in or out of John F Kennedy International Airport, according to the airport's website. Fliers are recommended to check with their individual airlines for an update on flight status. The terminals remain open. La Guardia and Newark airports are experiencing heavy delays.
FlightAware has a live list of cancelled flights across the country.
By road
New York's Route I-87 is now open for commuters.
The Long Island Expressway is now open to drivers, however, it's probably going to be uglier than usual. Here is a traffic map.
NYC subway
The trains are up and running, although some lines are experiencing delays (the above-ground subway stations and tracks are vulnerable to the weather). For updates, follow the @MTA Twitter, or visit their website to check the latest status of each line. We also recommend those with smartphones to download the Embark NYC and MTA Subway Time apps for notifications of real-time train delays and arrivals.
The PATH train between New York and New Jersey is currently running. Follow the PATH Train Twitter for continuous updates. The Long Island Railroad (LIRR) is running on a Weekend schedule, and the MetroNorth railway is running on a Saturday schedule.
Boston and Massachusetts
Massachusetts got hit early yesterday with the snowstorm, but appears to be doing well this morning. The Boston Globe has a great list of resources for all Boston schools, utilities, travel and power issues throughout the city and state. Here are some travel specifics:
Keep an eye on MEMA for road, power, and weather conditions throughout the state.
By road
Roads are open, but dangerous. The state's emergency management agency is urging caution to drivers, and yesterday governor Deval Patrick urged Massachusetts residents to utilize public transportation whenever possible.
Boston, by train
For all Boston public transportation updates, visit the MBTA website.
You can also follow @MBTA on Twitter. Some subway, rail, and bus lines are running with delays.
By bus
Many also travel to and from Boston and the surrounding area by coach bus. Two popular lines, Peter Pan and Megabus, have travel delay info on their website.
By air
Boston Logan Airport is open, but many flights are delayed. You can follow @BostonLogan on Twitter or visit their website for up-to-the-minute updates. Again, you should check with your individual airlines for the status of your flight, or use FlightAware to see real-time cancellations and delays.


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In construction, Big Data doesn't have the same high profile that it does in other industries, but according to ARC Document Solutions' most recent survey in construction trends, it is an area that will contribute to innovation, competition, and productivity in the future.
Typically, "Big Data" refers to amounts of information so large or complex that traditional data processing applications are inadequate. From a practical point of view, Big Data refers to new technology's ability to analyze this data to predict trends or extract other valuable insights that can lead to better decisions, more operational efficiency, and associated reductions in costs and risk.
According to SinglePoint Solutions, a consulting firm to the industry, there are five broad ways in which using Big Data can create value in construction.
Our survey respondents agreed across the board: Big Data's ability to improve planning and decision-making with granular, real-time data about utilization and usage patterns is a primary benefit. They also were clear that the use of Big Data enables project leaders and owners to improve demand forecasts as well as increase the quality of future project progress monitoring.
By the numbers, the top Big Data benefits mentioned by survey participants were:
In the construction industry, Big Data will transform the way in which information is acquired, analyzed, and stored, making this industry safer, smarter, efficient, and more profitable. How is your organization using it today? Let us know in the comment fields below.


text:
Guest reviews
Overall rating
7.9 Good
Based on 25 reviews
Recent reviews
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Hotel Jesolo Sand puts you just a 5-minute drive from Sea Life Jesolo. You can grab a bite to eat at the restaurant or wind down at the end of the day with a drink from the bar/lounge. A terrace and a garden are other highlights, and all rooms offer balconies and LCD TVs.


text:
Thames Tea Set in Blue
Product Description
This set includes one Thames teapot in blue & two matching Thames cups and saucers. The Thames tea collection carefully follows the path of the river starting from it's source at Thames Head and flowing around the teapot as it makes it's way to the sea. On the cup and saucer, the Thames source begins on the plate and wanders over and around the cup. This will keep your Thames daydreams strong wherever you happen to be.
The pot lids have hand painted knobs and delicate lines of blue around each lid rim.
5-6 cup teapot (depending upon whether you are drinking from the Thames cup & saucer or a larger mug)
Designed in the studio in the Oxo Tower, on the River Thames, and entirely made in Stoke on Trent.
Teapot: 27 (from handle to spout) x 110 x 160 (from base to tip of knob) cms
Saucer – 15cms diameter
Cup – 80cms wide by 60cms tall
Additional Information
|Snowden Flood
|1.8 kg
Snowden Flood
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text:
ShowCase Jewellers
by: E-Reine • 3
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by: E-Reine • 3
Showcase Jewellers app features 50 of Australia's most popular selling Diamond Solitaires. The app incorporates interactive tools and a comprehensive list of Showcase Member locations throughout Australia. View all these designs and many others at these stores or obtain quotations by sending an email.
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|Message view
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|« Date » · « Thread »
|Jörg Schaible <joerg.schai...@gmx.de>
|Re: Binary file manipulation tool?
|Wed, 03 Oct 2012 10:06:21 GMT
Hi Damjan, Damjan Jovanovic wrote: > Hi > > You wouldn't believe it, but one of the most invaluable testing tools > for commons-imaging I've discovered has been an x86 assembler :-). > > Why? Because images are binary files which often use internal offsets > to portions of the image. An assembler lets you easily calculate and > insert offsets at compile-time. See > https://svn.apache.org/repos/asf/commons/proper/imaging/trunk/src/test/data/images/bmp/4/rle8.asm > as an example. > > However it makes me uncomfortable to have both images and the assembly > in my tests when the images can be generated from the assembly, or > require nasm to compile tests. Also nasm is all good for little-endian > files, but it will never support big-endian. Is there some other > binary file manipulation tool you guys know of that I can use instead, > preferably one written in Java and ideally with a Maven plugin? Why don't you simply use a ByteBuffer? You cat set position, change byte order on the fly and read/write all kind of primitive Data automatically. Cheers, Jörg BTW: ImageInputStream and ImageOutputStream have similar capabilities. --------------------------------------------------------------------- To unsubscribe, e-mail: firstname.lastname@example.com For additional commands, e-mail: email@example.com
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text:
Judge: stopping farmworker family housing was discrimination
by: Graham Johnson Updated:
MOUNT VERNON, Wash. - A judge in Mount Vernon ruled Thursday against a berry farm that suddenly stopped offering housing for the families of its pickers, saying it was discriminating against farmworkers with spouses and children.
For generations in the Skagit Valley berry pickers have housed their families rent-free on the farms where they work during harvest.
This spring one of the state's largest berry suppliers, Sakuma Brothers Farms, changed its policy, saying it would only house employees themselves, not their children and spouses.
That left Federico Lopez wondering what to do.
"They told us there would be no cabins for us," Lopez said.
Sakuma Brothers has been under fire from farmworkers and their advocates, who organized a strike last year.
The farm recently paid an $850,000 settlement over pay practices and rest breaks.
It backed off hiring foreign guest workers and committed to higher wages.
It also cut the family housing benefit - something Judge Susan Cook said was retaliation for the labor uprising.
"We need the farmworkers, why would (they) retaliate against the farmworkers," asked farm owner Steve Sakuma after the ruling.
Farm supporters rallied outside the courthouse, worried a ruling that required family housing will set a precedent for agriculture across the state.
"No other employer has to provide housing to their workers," said rally organizer Kristen Hinton.
The judge said the government cannot require an employer to provide housing, but because Sakuma Farms did it voluntarily, it put itself in the position of being governed by discrimination laws


text:
Appliance Recycling
We want you to properly dispose of your old refrigerator, and we'll pay you to do it. Schedule online for a FREE pickup of your refrigerator or freezer. Then we'll mail you a check for $35.
- BONUS! Do you have an old room air conditioner? We'll pick it up when we pickup your fridge or freezer and give you another $10 rebate.
- The refrigerator or freezer must be clean, empty, defrosted, and in working condition.
- The refrigerator or freezer must be between 10 and 30 cubic feet in size.
- You must have an active electric account with PPL Electric Utilities at the address where you would like us to pick up the refrigerator/freezer.
- An adult, 18 years of age or older, must be present to sign a release form at the time of the pickup.
- The appliance must be plugged in on the day of the pickup.
- The appliance to be recycled must be disconnected from the waterlines prior to pick up crew's arrival.
- You must provide clear and safe access to your appliances for the removal team. They will not risk injury or be able to move personal effects or modify your home (e.g., remove door or railings) to remove the unit(s).
- Side-by-side refrigerators are considered one appliance and are therefore eligible for one rebate.
To schedule by phone call 1-877-486-9204.


text:
9th June 2014 10:47 PM
Contact me discuss how I can best help you with your photography needs - weddings, portraits, newborn, baby or pet photography in Glasgow.
9th June 2014 09:34 PM
Find out more about Glasgow Photographer Louise Mallan. Professional wedding, newborn and portrait photographer operating throughout Glasgow.
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text:
Holiday Inn Houston S - Nrg Area - Medical Center
Select your stay dates to check availability
Holiday Inn Houston S - Nrg Area - Medical Center
About the hotel
Property Location
With a stay at Holiday Inn Houston S - Nrg Area - Medical Center in Houston, you'll be close to NRG Park and Houston Zoo. This hotel is within close proximity of MD Anderson Cancer Center and Texas Medical Center.
Make yourself at home in one of the 238 air-conditioned rooms featuring refrigerators and microwaves. Wired and wireless Internet access is complimentary, and flat-screen televisions with cable programming provide entertainment. Conveniences include safes and desks, as well as phones with free local calls.
Don't miss out on recreational opportunities including a health club and an outdoor pool. This hotel also features complimentary wireless Internet access and gift shops/newsstands. Guests can catch a ride to nearby destinations on the complimentary area shuttle.
Satisfy your appetite at the hotel's restaurant, which serves breakfast, lunch, and dinner, or stay in and take advantage of room service (during limited hours). Quench your thirst with your favorite drink at a bar/lounge.
Business, Other Amenities
Featured amenities include complimentary high-speed (wired) Internet access, a business center, and express check-in. Free self parking is available onsite.
Hotel Facilities
- Roll-in shower
- Laundry facilities
- Elevator/lift
- Designated smoking areas
- Health club
- Conference space size (feet) - 3000
- Free WiFi
- In-room accessibility
- Meeting rooms
- Multilingual staff
- Free wired high-speed Internet
- Accessible bathroom
- Gift shops or newsstand
- Bar/lounge
- Free newspapers in lobby
- Porter/bellhop
- Dry cleaning/laundry service
- Number of floors - 11
- Express check-in
- Business center
- Safe-deposit box at front desk
- Free area shuttle
- Luggage storage
- Outdoor pool
- 24-hour front desk
- Restaurant
- Parking (limited spaces)
- Shopping on site
- ATM/banking
- Total number of rooms - 238
- One meeting room
- Free self parking
Room Facilities
- Hair dryer
- Refrigerator
- Coffee/tea maker
- Free local calls
- Free weekday newspaper
- Room service (limited hours)
- Air conditioning
- Private bathroom
- Heating
- Phone
- Desk
- Cribs/infant beds available
- Premium TV channels
- Flat-panel TV
- Iron/ironing board
- Free WiFi
- Rollaway/extra beds available
- Daily housekeeping
- Cable TV service
- Free wired high-speed Internet
- In-room safe
- Microwave
- Minibar
- In-room climate control (air conditioning)
- Pay movies
Hotel Policy
The following fees and deposits are charged by the property at time of service, check-in, or check-out.
- A pet fee will be charged
The above list may not be comprehensive. Fees and deposits may not include tax and are subject to change.Show all hotel policy Show less hotel policy


text:
Looking for Modify iframe javascript Freelancers or Jobs?
Need help with Modify iframe javascript? Hire a freelancer today! Do you specialise in Modify iframe javascript? Use your Modify iframe javascript skills and start making money online today! Freelancer is the largest marketplace for jobs in the world. There are currently 17,764 jobs waiting for you to start work on!I Want to Hire I Want to Work
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|Price (USD)
|Price (USD)
|In wordpress, redirect iframe from https to http
|Page in wordpress include iframe from HTTPS to HTTP. HTTPS > HTTPS works but HTTPS > HTTP doesn't.
|WordPress, HTML5, HTML
|Feb 25, 2017
|Feb 25, 2017Ended
|Triggering in iFrame cross site POST submit button
|I have one site and I want to open another side in iFrame and trigger the form post submit button
|Javascript, HTML5, HTML, jQuery / Prototype
|Feb 24, 2017
|Feb 24, 2017Ended
|Looking for a solution replace iframe
|Looking for a solution instead of an IFRAME, load pages on the importance of top loading as a toolbar i add image screen how it's look with iframe... i want replace to somthing if can be faster on load site and minimum block (THE URL take from DB) screenshot [url removed, login to view] i open to Suggestions
|PHP, Javascript, AJAX
|Feb 23, 2017
|Feb 23, 2017Ended
|Design a VAST pre Roll iframe to play in front of my HTML5 video player
|We want to use an html5 player provided by Streamable, and we want to add an iframe (or other) which triggers a video ad in front of the player, when a user clicks the play button. You can see an integration of the player in this url: [url removed, login to view] This is an example of the ad code we want to pop before the video: [url removed, login to view][WIDTH]&height=[HEIGHT]&d...
|PHP, Javascript, Software Architecture
|Feb 23, 2017
|Feb 23, 2017Ended
|Change contents of iframe in lightbox
|On this page [url removed, login to view] I need someone to change the contents in the lightbox that pops up. I will supply a link to the page which needs to fit in an iframe. See visuals attached of how it needs to look
|PHP, WordPress, CSS
|Feb 22, 2017
|Feb 22, 2017Ended
|change iframe tag to ajax - OPENCART (build ocmod)
|i know it's very simpale but i need some one do this for me becuase i don't have time i have few place(filed) on my web site use with tag Iframe and i read this better do with ajax, becuase it's faster and safer
|AJAX, Open Cart
|Feb 21, 2017
|Feb 21, 2017Ended
|Auto Click Button in iFrame Cross Domain
|Hi, I need a script for my university project about Internet Browser Security. The requirements: When a page loads, the script should automatically click a button (depending on the position of the button) in an iframe from a different domain (cross domain). Please only bid if you know how to code such script. Thanks!
|PHP, Javascript, HTML, jQuery / Prototype
|Feb 16, 2017
|Feb 16, 2017Ended
|For Google Sites Website: Create a Google Map API that will work with an iFrame
|Create a Google Map Place API URL that will work with an iFrame inside Google Sites for a business. For some reason I can not past the URL of the business but just ask and I will get it to you. - IF - you can do it. Remember - its for Google Sites platform within an iframe
|Google Maps API
|Feb 15, 2017
|Feb 15, 2017Ended
|need a javascript / iframe / widget to out put news to my home page
|I have a news site that I would like to have some news /images grab and called and display on my homepage using javascript. the iframe is not a good idea because the links need to open in a new window. this small project is $[url removed, login to view] see image snap shot
|PHP, Javascript, HTML, Database Programming
|Feb 13, 2017
|Feb 13, 2017Ended
|In need a iframe or javascript to display my music list on my main home page or anywhere
|In need a iframe or java script to display my music list on my main home page or anywhere here is my music list [url removed, login to view] I like to display the music list on my home page under the videos. Once you provide me with the code I can paste it myself on my home page www.latingospel.com. My project is simple iframe or widget or javascript code. my budget is $[url removed, login ...
|PHP, Javascript, Software Architecture, MySQL, Angular.js
|Feb 10, 2017
|Feb 10, 2017Ended
|ads from iframe gone
|Basically we're embedding content from another webpage through an iframe and these videos are live streams, we need to find a way to disable advertisements from the embedded content, here is an example of the ads we face and that we need gone [url removed, login to view]
|PHP, Javascript, Web Scraping
|Feb 10, 2017
|Feb 10, 2017Ended
|Div/iframe follow mouse pointer
|ALL INTERESTED TELL ME YOU ARE INTERESTED in job reply. I want adsense banner to follow mouse point. Mouse pointer must be invisible. Something like this: <script> $(document).on('mousemove', function(e){ $('try').css({ left: [url removed, login to view], top: [url removed, login to view] }); }); </script>
|PHP, Javascript, CSS, HTML
|Feb 9, 2017
|Feb 9, 2017Ended
|Hello, do you know plugin TubeAce? I need iframe word in different way
|Hello, I got plugin TubeAce for grab video online in embed iframe. Evrything seem work fine but when I posted a video I got video that if I stop, or if I click in other part of a video, I will be redirect on that adult website. How can I do for embed a video that doesn't contain this fast redirect on the adult website? the iframe I got is for ex, this one: <iframe src="[url ...
|PHP, Website Design, Graphic Design, HTML
|Feb 8, 2017
|Feb 8, 2017Ended
|Embed Iframe into a PNG file
|Perl, Javascript, CSS, HTML5
|Feb 7, 2017
|Feb 7, 2017Ended
|Fix content of the embedded iframe to have responsive design
|There is a 3rd party website that embeds one of my pages via iframe element. My page is basically a form with two columns in with about two dozens of select fields. With minimal to none changes required to the main page (3rd party web site) and only updates to my "iframe" page, I need: 1) Fix ifrmame content to be responsive 2) When screen size drops below 768px, i.e. max-width:...
|Feb 7, 2017
|Feb 7, 2017Ended
|Simple script to hide URL of iframe
|1. I need a script or guidance to tweak or .htaccess to hide/fake the URL used by the iframe. 2. I need the content of the iframe, to be hidden/fake, i.e its functionality should not be seen in the source code. Please no nonsense such as disable right-click. I have access to the files on both my site and the one quoted in the iframe. For someone with experience, this should be a piece of...
|PHP, Javascript, CGI
|Feb 6, 2017
|Feb 6, 2017Ended
|iFrame work
|iFrame part of a page to show another webpage in different domain/hosting.
|PHP, WordPress, CSS, HTML5
|Jan 30, 2017
|Jan 30, 2017Ended
|I need Google Maps centered in iframe
|I have a number of Google Maps created in Google MyMaps and I embeded them on the site trough iframes. The problem is that the maps are aded into toggles and they doesn't load correctly, the center of the map is shown in the top left corner. I guess the problem is that they are initially loaded into a hidden div. What I need is a fix that will make the map loaded correctly centered. Please ...
|PHP, Javascript, WordPress
|Jan 29, 2017
|Jan 29, 2017Ended
|Retrieve innerHTML value in iframe from parent file
|My html file ([url removed, login to view]) contains 2 iframes with id='w1' and id='w2'. [url removed, login to view], [url removed, login to view] or [url removed, login to view] can be loaded to 'w1' individually by clicking a specific link in [url removed, login to view] by my users. [url removed, login to view], [url removed, login to view] or [url removed, ...
|Javascript, jQuery / Prototype
|Jan 29, 2017
|Jan 29, 2017Ended
|iframe website links
|small job ,i need iframe some links of another website. i need only links not others content of that website
|PHP, Javascript, HTML
|Jan 29, 2017
|Jan 29, 2017Ended
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text:
The Colorado Rockies' success at home is noted for tremendous offensive displays.
Impressive performances on the mound, however, are playing a major role this month.
Jordan Lyles looks to extend his personal winning streak at Coors Field to four games Saturday night against the San Diego Padres.
The Rockies (24-19) are among the best home teams in baseball with a 14-5 record, and that success is spurred by hitting .349 with 33 homers and an average of 7.4 runs.
In winning six of seven games in Denver in May, the starting pitchers have compiled a 3.14 ERA, nearly an entire run below their overall mark. The starters have yielded three runs in 20 innings in winning the last three at Coors.
Jorge De La Rosa was brilliant in the opener of this three-game set Friday, carrying a no-hitter into the seventh inning in a 3-1 victory over the Padres (20-23).
"That was something that we really needed because our offense has been kind of quiet for the past couple days," said Carlos Gonzalez, citing the lineup's .190 average over the past four games.
The Rockies are hitting .322 while winning 10 of 13 at home versus the Padres, but they may not need to do much with Lyles (5-0, 2.66 ERA) scheduled to get the ball.
The right-hander has compiled a 1.25 ERA while winning all three of his starts at home this year, pitching into the seventh inning each time.
Lyles went eight innings while allowing two runs in an 8-2 win over Texas in his most recent outing there May 5. However, he followed that up five days later by battling through 103 pitches in six innings of an 11-2 win at Cincinnati, yielding two runs and one homer while collecting season highs of eight strikeouts and four walks.
"I guess you could I was effectively wild," Lyles said. "I struck out a couple more guys than normal. I prefer to not strike out that many guys, as weird as that sounds. I'd rather get the groundballs."
Lyles, who was acquired in a trade from Houston last winter, is tied with De La Rosa for the team lead in wins, while his ERA is the Rockies' lowest by a starter.
He's 1-2 with a 5.48 ERA in four starts against San Diego, allowing three runs in five innings while not getting a decision in a 5-4 road loss April 14.
The Padres' .219 average is the lowest in the majors, and they've plated two runs or less in five of six road games.
Scheduled starter Robbie Erlin (2-4, 4.22) had received seven runs of support over his first six starts before finally getting some help in Sunday's 5-4 win over Miami. The second-year left-hander matched his season high with seven strikeouts in 6 1-3 scoreless innings.
"Good three-pitch mix," manager Bud Black told the team's official website. "It's about him using his three pitches effectively. He's capable of doing the type of work that he did (Sunday)."
Erlin was shaky against Colorado on April 15, allowing three runs and six hits with seven strikeouts while being pulled with two outs in the fifth of a 3-2 loss.


text:
"The sharp tang of powder and tar and salty sea along with the boom of the cannon and shouts of men in battle." —The Dallas Morning News
Touch and Goby C. Northcote Parkinson
With his Royal Navy commission in hand, Richard Delancey is posted to Gibralter to command the sloop Merlin for convoy protection in the Mediterranean.
With his Royal Navy commission in hand, Richard Delancey is posted to Gibralter to command the sloop Merlin for convoy protection in the Mediterranean.
Editorial Reviews
"The sharp tang of powder and tar and salty sea along with the boom of the cannon and shouts of men in battle." —The Dallas Morning News
Product Details
- 9780872167131
- Publisher:
- Penguin Group (USA) Incorporated
- Publication date:
- 09/28/1980
- Series:
- Richard Delancey Ser.
- Pages:
- 272
Read an Excerpt
Touch and Go
By C. Northcote Parkinson
McBooks Press, Inc.Copyright © 1977 C. Northcote Parkinson
All rights reserved.
The "Merlin"
"AND A DAMNED good riddance!" exclaimed Rear-Admiral Fothergill. He was tall, grey, elderly and spectacled, a man now chained to his desk who would never go to sea again. He peered short-sightedly at Hoskins, his flag-lieutenant, who was red-faced, portly and short of breath. He frowned now, his blue eyes protuberant and plainly puzzled.
"I mean, Simpson quitting the Merlin. I could never stand the fellow. Always asking for shore leave, always sick, the sloop always under repair."
"His marriage was rather recent, sir."
"Was that the chief trouble? I supposed that he had made some prize-money and wanted to spend it."
"That too, sir. His successor is unmarried, I believe."
Hoskins checked the fact, glancing at one document among the sheaf he carried. Yes, he had been right. Was he becoming fussy and old-maidish, he wondered, thinking of flag-lieutenants he had known over the years.
"Thank God for that. Is he here in Gibraltar?"
"Yes, sir. He landed yesterday evening from the Birkenhead storeship. Captain Delancey is waiting now in the outer office."
"Delancey? Never heard of him. Hand me the List."
"He is not listed, sir."
"His first command, eh? He's damned lucky, in that case, to be given the Merlin; and lucky, for that matter, to serve in the Mediterranean. Send him in, Mr Fulmer, and let's hope that he is an improvement on Simpson."
The flag-officer, Gibraltar, had his office on the first floor of an old house overlooking the sunlit harbour. Only the marine sentry at the entrance distinguished this flat-roofed building from others in the same street. The place was plainly furnished, almost bleak, the whitewashed walls relieved only by the blue and gold of the naval uniforms. There was a quiet bustle of activity with the scratching of quill pens as letters were copied in triplicate, each clerk's copperplate handwriting as characterless as if each document had been printed. The clerks stood at tall desks with candles fitted for use after dark, the scratch of their quills making a background noise like the sound of insects in a tropical garden.
A minute later the Rear-Admiral had the newcomer in his presence; a weatherbeaten officer of middling height, something under forty years of age, with dark hair and deep blue eyes, a self-possessed man who was giving nothing away. He was sturdily built with a strong face, deeply lined for his age, his expression that of a man who had known adversity and disappointment. His uniform was spotless, kept for just such an occasion as this. Fothergill guessed that he would rarely look as smart as he did today. He had been and was still most probably, a poor man; no aristocrat, despite his name, and no ornament to the social scene. His letter of appointment and an accompanying letter of recommendation had been handed beforehand to the flag-lieutenant and now lay, opened, on his desk. After making his bow, Delancey stood at attention, his cocked hat under his left arm.
"Welcome to the Mediterranean, Captain. You will have heard, no doubt, that the Merlin is taking the British Consul back to Tangier. She should be here again in a few days. Please be seated while I read the letters you have brought with you."
A few minutes passed in silence and Delancey looked about him. The naval headquarters building was old but largely rebuilt. Delancey guessed that it must have been damaged during the previous war, the new plaster contrasting with the old. A cupboard behind the Admiral's chair contained leatherbound folio letter books, marked "In" on one shelf and "Out" on the shelf below. There was a ceremonial sword hung from a nail and the door was held open by a cannon-ball. There were several engravings on display, one a coloured etching of Admiral Rooke and two of them scenes of the great siege, both very stiff and formal. Neither artist nor engraver had been in battle, Delancey concluded, and neither could portray the action. As an amateur artist he wondered whether he himself could have done any better. He might have put more life into it — and more death for that matter — but how could any painting or print suggest the noise or the smell of powder? There had been no comparable bombardment since 1783. The great siege had ended with the conclusion of the war itself and it was now 1799, over six years since this new war had begun. As a youngster, seventeen years ago, he had felt that he was making history here, small as his contribution had been. And Gibraltar had of course been the setting for drama with its stage and backcloth, its galleries and pit. To make the most of a battle one needed an audience! He smiled faintly at this idea, turning his head away from the engravings. He saw then that the Admiral was no longer looking at the letter. His eyes were now on Delancey with perhaps a hint of amusement.
"Not a very accurate picture, I agree. Have you been here before?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then you need no advice from me. I gather that you were last on the Irish station?"
"Yes, sir."
"The Spitfire being your last ship?"
"Yes, sir."
"Lost, but with no discredit to you. It seems to me that you are fortunate, promoted into a very fine sloop of eighteen guns, copied from the French corvette Amazon and built as recently as 1794. You should by rights have been given the oldest sloop in the service, laid down under George II, taken from the Dutch or built under contract in Bermuda. My own first command was a sloop launched in 1767, ready to sink if anyone so much as sneezed. Indeed, she was lost at sea under my successor, poor fellow. The Merlin is a very different sort of ship and you are lucky to have her. You are unmarried, I have been told. Is that true?"
"Yes, sir."
"I'm glad to hear it. Married officers are always in port with mysterious defects and broken spars. A bachelor myself, my preference is for more active officers, especially in trade protection. Tell me, however, about the situation in Ireland. There was a French landing, I recall, on the west coast. How did the story end?"
"Well, sir, General Humbert landed at Killala with hardly more than a thousand men. He was to have been reinforced but Bompart's squadron, with troops embarked, was intercepted by Sir John Borlase Warren. Humbert took Castlebar and drove off the Kilkenny Militia but then came face to face with Lord Cornwallis. He had no choice after that and surrendered at Ballinamuck —"
"He surrendered where?"
"At Ballinamuck, sir. Irish place names are often rather uncouth. Had all the French troops, four thousand of them, landed at the same place and at the same time, the Irish might have joined them. There will be no rising now, though. Lord Cornwallis has thirty thousand men and the coasts are well patrolled by our cruisers. We should have no more trouble in that quarter."
"So General Humbert achieved nothing, eh?"
"I wouldn't say that, sir. He broke up the Bishop of Killala's diocesan conference."
"Did he, though? I should like to hear your story. Perhaps you would care to dine with me today?"
"With pleasure, sir."
After Delancey had gone the flag-lieutenant produced for the Rear-Admiral a copy of a recent Gazette, brought by the Birken-head along with the newspapers and the mail.
The Rear-Admiral read the gazette letter slowly and with gaining interest. Written by Captain Ashley and dated September 14th 1798, it described how the Hercule came into Killala Bay after Humbert had landed and after Savary's squadron had gone and went on to describe an operation which resulted in the total destruction of the Hercule and the Spitfire and ended with Ashley's words of highest commendation, recommending Delancey for promotion.
"You have read this?" the Rear-Admiral asked.
"Yes, sir," replied the flag-lieutenant.
"Don't you find it almost incredible?"
"I think there is much to be read between the lines."
"So there is, by God. But I know Ashley and would believe him. So did their Lordships. My conclusion must be that Delancey is an outstanding officer."
"No doubt of it, sir."
"Well, we must make him tell us the whole story."
No attempt was made to extract the story until the Rear-Admiral's guests had reached their dessert, nor was Delancey very forthcoming even then. It was a small party, held at the Admiral's house, the other guests being Captain Price of the frigate Cynthia who was going home on promotion to command a ship of the line, a Colonel of Artillery, a Major of the Royal Marines, two gentlemen from the Dockyard and a doctor. Sitting at the head of his mahogany table, with a portrait of George II behind him, the Rear-Admiral did the honours with practised ease. The usual toasts were drunk, the last to the new captain of the Merlin. This was the cue for Delancey to hold forth but he did so very briefly.
"But look, Delancey, the story outlined in Captain Ashley's letter to the Commander-in-Chief is not easily understood. It seems that you attacked a French seventy-four almost single-handed, blowing her rudder off before anyone could say 'Mon dieu!' If it is as easy as that, why don't we all do it?"
The question, posed by Captain Price, was fair enough, but Delancey seemed to hesitate over his answer.
"I was very fortunate," he admitted finally, "in finding the perfect target for a fireship attack. The chances against it are overwhelmingly adverse and the chance of a fireship being there when wanted is surely remote. But if you ask how the trick was done I can say no more than this: study how the stage conjuror deceives his audience! His secret is a simple one. At each moment he does something, he ensures that the audience is looking at something else. Should you still think me clever, sir, I must remind you of two important facts. First, I owed my life to a couple of seamen who chose to disobey my orders. Second, I had to sacrifice the wounded from my own ship, blown up in the Hercule."
There was a minute's silence after this, broken by the Rear-Admiral who said:
"And that is the worst thing of all, paying in lives for what has to be done.... And now I want to hear about the Bishop of Killala!"
The dinner party passed off pleasantly and Delancey learnt, informally, what work awaited him. The Rear-Admiral took him aside afterwards and made his role sufficiently clear. The Merlin would be employed in convoy protection and would operate between Gibraltar and the Levant. There was a French army cooped up in Egypt since the Battle of the Nile but this would be none of his concern. His task would be to protect trade and deal with enemy cruisers, especially in the western half of the Mediterranean. French corvettes and privateers were numerous and enterprising and British merchantmen had to proceed in convoy under naval escort.
It would be his fate, he gathered, to plod endlessly back and forth between Gibraltar, Port Mahon, Malta, Palermo and Cyprus, with little chance of gaining distinction and still less of making prize-money. He would wear out his signal flags in urging merchantmen to make more sail and expend his powder in warning them to keep in formation. He would also have to take the blame when they ignored him and were captured. He was fortunate in his ship, as the Rear-Admiral repeated, but he would gain no credit, it seemed, and make no prize-money. Nor could he complain for he had much to learn, as he realised, and this was almost his first command.
Two days later Delancey stood on the King's Bastion and watched the Merlin come into the anchorage. With him were David Stock, volunteer (first class), Luke Tanner, coxswain, and John Teesdale, captain's steward; the men he had been entitled to bring with him from his last ship.
Stock, the shock-headed and snub-nosed son of the Bishop of Killala, was tongue-tied and shy, an eager but ignorant boy. Tanner was burly, taciturn, devoted to his captain and utterly reliable. Teesdale was a dark, thin-faced man, intelligent, sensitive and inclined to talk out of turn. He could always sense the trend of opinion on the lower deck. As steward he was excellent, a good cook and valet and yet known to be fearless in action.
Behind Delancey the Rock of Gibraltar reared up, yellowish-grey in the sunlight, its lower slopes hidden by white buildings. To left and right, facing the sea, were the fortifications, massively built and bristling with artillery. In front of him, beyond the bay, was the coast of Spain and far to his left, the coast of Africa. In the middle distance, ending her passage from Tangier, was the sloop Merlin with all her sails set before a stiff breeze from the Atlantic. She was a lovely ship, no doubt of that, and Delancey, watching her lean to leeward, noting the foam around her bows, found there were tears in his eyes. It was an odd weakness and one of which he was ashamed but he was applying his handkerchief to the lens of his telescope and was able to wipe his eyes while nobody was looking. His own ship, his to make or ruin, no mere fireship but a proper sloop of war. ... He remembered that his duties included the education of young David Stock. Handing his telescope to the boy, he told him how to adjust it and then went on to instruct him:
"That is our ship, Mr Stock, the Merlin, a sloop of war. She has three masts, as you can see, and so is ship-rigged, just like a frigate. Had she only two masts she would be a brig but might still be rated as a sloop, smaller than a frigate but bigger than a cutter, which has only the one mast. Now can you tell me how she compares in size with a frigate?"
"She is smaller, sir, with eighteen guns to a frigate's thirty-two or thirty-six."
"That is almost right. She rates as an 18-gun sloop but actually mounts twenty-four, sixteen 6-pounders on her main deck, six 12-pounder carronades on the quarterdeck and two more on the forecastle. She was built at Frindsbury, measures 425 tons and is just over 108 feet long on the gun deck. What we call a sloop, by the way, the French call a corvette. And how many men should there be on board her?"
"A hundred, sir?"
"A hundred and twenty-one in theory and much the same, I believe, in fact. And for what work is she designed?"
"Fighting French corvettes, sir, and capturing enemy merchantmen."
"If we are lucky, Mr Stock! More of our effort will go into protecting our own merchantmen, you'll find."
Delancey watched from the King's Bastion until the Merlin dropped anchor and then, an hour later, went aboard, where he was greeted by the first lieutenant, Mr Waring, who, he knew, had once been master of a collier out of Sunderland. At a bellow from Waring the ship's company stood to attention and doffed hats as Delancey read his commission. Then they were dismissed and Delancey had time to meet the other officers: Will Langford, master's mate; Sam Bailey, the boatswain; Tom Helli-well, the gunner and Nathaniel Corbin, the carpenter.
There were two midshipmen, the senior being the Hon. Stephen Northmore, while the junior, Edward Topley, was generally regarded as more or less useless. Delancey was puzzled at first to find the son of a lord in a sloop rather than in a smart frigate of the larger (38-gun) class, with another aristocrat as captain. The boy, who could have been no more than eighteen, seemed bright, intelligent and pleasant, his personality as well as his birth clearly foreshadowed a quick promotion. It seemed, however, that the lad's father, Lord Bleasdale, was impoverished and apparently in disgrace, cashiered from his regiment and expelled from Brooks's following an incident at the card table. As merely the fourth son, young Northmore would inherit nothing but the breath of scandal, so that the Merlin offered him as good a berth, perhaps, as he could expect; one owed, apparently, to the fact that Delancey's predecessor was distantly related to the boy's mother.
The Merlin's establishment provided for two lieutenants and the other one, filling a vacancy, reported for duty the following afternoon. He was a quiet young man called Nicholas Mather, slight and dark and had first gone to sea from Whitehaven. He was of Cumberland stock, his father being employed in the management of Lord Lowther's estates. He was unmarried but a good brother to several sisters with whom he corresponded. He confessed to being a keen chess-player, a reader of poetry and a diarist. Within the next few days Delancey came to the conclusion that Mather was a very fine seaman and navigator, a perfectionist in his calling and a man to be relied upon in any weather.
Excerpted from Touch and Go by C. Northcote Parkinson. Copyright © 1977 C. Northcote Parkinson. Excerpted by permission of McBooks Press, Inc..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Meet the Author
Cyril Northcote Parkinson pursued a distinguished academic career on both sides of the Atlantic and first became famous for "Parkinson's Law"work expands to fill the time allotted to it. Parkinson wrote many books on British politics and economics. His first fictional effort, a "biography" of Horatio Hornblower, met with considerable acclaim and led to the Delancey series. C. Northcote Parkinson died in 1993.
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text: FAIRLAWN, Ohio, July 26, 2012 /PRNewswire/ -- OMNOVA Solutions (NYSE: OMN) today announced its 2011 Technology Award recipients. This annual award program recognizes exemplary technological contributions by associates in OMNOVA's research and development, sales and marketing, technical service, operations, product management and LEAN SixSigma organizations. These innovations in product development and process improvement are positively impacting customers in many of OMNOVA's served markets including performance chemicals for oil and natural gas drilling, paper and tape applications, as well as laminates for the kitchen and bath cabinetry, RV/manufactured housing and store fixture markets. Recipients hail from across OMNOVA's global operations, including its Performance Chemicals business segment facilities in Akron, Ohio; Mogadore, Ohio; Chester, South Carolina; and Green Bay, Wisconsin, as well as Villejust, France and Shanghai, China. OMNOVA's Decorative Products business segment is also well-represented with Technology Award winners from its facilities in Fairlawn, Ohio; Auburn, Pennsylvania and Monroe, North Carolina. "As a global company, we are continually taking actions that will enhance the value we deliver to our customers and allow us to pursue new and adjacent markets," said Kevin McMullen, OMNOVA Solutions' Chairman and Chief Executive Officer. "The cornerstone of these efforts is the enhancement of our existing competencies, as well as the development of new, sustainable products and processes for the future. These outstanding innovation teams have clearly focused on delivering value to our customers, enhancing our operations and reducing our environmental footprint, positioning OMNOVA for sustained profitable growth as we move forward." Innovation titles, summaries and recipients are as follows: Global High Performance Release CoatingCategory: New Product Development/Commercialization Doug Harper – Chester, South Carolina Bobbi Varnadore – Chester, South Carolina Tom Walsh – Akron, Ohio Global Technology Center Haiping Fu – Shanghai, China The strength of OMNOVA's global Performance Chemicals team was highlighted through the development of new release coating technology for the Chinese tape market. The release coating provides enhanced runnability on the customer's production line and delivers improved overall tape performance including overlap/release properties.


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Moyes' solicitors have already started proceedings against the Daily Mail, which published extracts of "Wayne Rooney: My Story So Far'.
And while no action has been taken against Rooney or publishers HarperSport yet, it could be imminent.
Moyes' lawyer Mel Goldberg said: "Proceedings have been issued against the Daily Mail. Separate action will be taken against the publishers and presumably Wayne Rooney as well because he is the cause of the publication.
"But at this minute legal proceedings against Wayne Rooney have not been issued."
Moyes is particularly upset by Rooney's claims that the Scot broke his confidence by leaking details of a personal nature.
"There were several comments," said Goldberg. "The main headline (in the Daily Mail) was Rooney claiming that David Moyes forced him out (of Everton) which is not true, and another comment that 'David Moyes was jealous of me' - that was not true.
"And there was a comment which we regard as very serious which is that David Moyes broke professional confidence by leaking stories which he had been told. That's not true either.
"Moyes went out of his way to cover up, over a long period of time, about that and other matters as well.
"What a player tells a manager in confidence is something which is special and if other players feel a manager is going to blow the whistle on him to other people, no player would ever speak to his manager in confidence and that has greatly upset him," said Goldberg.
- More about:
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Is there a way to more finely control who gets what emails? I have two working admins in my config. One is helpdesk, and the other is the sys admin. The helpdesk tech doesn't need the emails from the monitors, etc.
Apr 5, 2010 at 1:28 UTC
Currently no, all tickets go to the same queue. You can add this as a feature request for the next version (assuming it's not already up there).
5 Replies
Apr 5, 2010 at 1:28 UTC
Currently no, all tickets go to the same queue. You can add this as a feature request for the next version (assuming it's not already up there).
Apr 5, 2010 at 2:47 UTC
If they have differant subject lines you may be able to use filtering in Outlook.
Apr 6, 2010 at 2:00 UTC
Keep IT Simple Technology Group is an IT service provider.
Currently no.
Another way around it - you can send all notifications to 3rd address, then using mailbox rules based on subject to forward notification the the respected admins.
Apr 6, 2010 at 9:07 UTC
Lawrie Dalman Consulting is an IT service provider.
As the others say, not at present.
There have been a number of Feature Requests for granular and configurable user rights in Spiceworks, along with requests for a greater number of user roles. Visit the Feature Requests and have a look through the requests and/or search for requests about roles, rights and users, then any you like the sound of Spice em up to enhance the likelihood of seeing them in a future version of Spiceworks.
If you don't find one, make one and post a link to it back here so we can spice it up with/for you.
Apr 23, 2010 at 3:35 UTC
akp982 is an IT service provider.
Did you get this sorted?
Can you mark the Best Answer and any Helpful Posts?