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Subject: [NKIT]>-[AU][Housestorming]
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Date: Sat, 17 Apr 1993 22:49:31 GMT



        Azariah looked about himself.  The city had fared badly in the storm.
He found himself walking along a great avenue.  There was a feeling of hope in
the energies of the people, the worst was over and now it was time to rebuild.
        Azariah stopped suddenly.  The stones in front of him had changed, they
were now metal.  Looking around he felt himself pulled towards a building to
his right.
        Dragon's Inn, that is the name of this place.  There is much magic
here, many possibilities.

        As the young man entered the pub there wasn't much notice.  People had
been entering and leaving all day.

        This is a nice salad... hey somethings up?!

        A Unicorn!  Azariah hadn't seen a Unicorn in many where's or whens, so
naturally he called out to it.

        Someone's talking to me in UNICORN!  Sheryl wheeled around, then she
saw the young man with the dark hair and the blue eyes.  He was making
horse-like noises that while most of the people around her were looking at him
as if he were daft, too her it was a song of greeting and joy.  She jumped over
in front of him and began to speak to him in kind.

        A Unicorn but not a unicorn!  This is certainly an interesting where
and when!  As the Greeting Song stopped he looked up from his kneeling position
and found that he and the Unicorn had caused quite a stir.  The companions she
had been eating with had come over and were looking at him with a mixture of
wonder and interest.

        "Greetings, I am Azariah." he said as he stood.



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From: li@Data-IO.COM (Phyllis Rostykus)
Subject: [AU] [~storm] [~MG] A Nice Day for a Walk
Message-ID: <1993Apr17.195327.25938@data-io.com>
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Date: Sat, 17 Apr 1993 19:53:27 GMT
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[ADMIN - This is rather long, but of a piece... Thanks to Hutch for letting
me use 'Raelf and for his feedback.  Thanks to Sheryl and Andrea for their
part and their writing for the last part of this.  And the reason for the
~'s is cause those lines are just a little bit peripheral to this...]

-------

        The tallish, almost boy-slender figure of a woman with
dried-blood red hair walked out of the Weaver's Guild with a look of
wonder on her face.  She walked funny.  Hesitating at odd points in
each step, rolling her weight along the entire length of her left leg,
then consciously all along the foot in it's worn travelling boot.

        A blonde man with eyes that flickered all the colors there are
and a few that there aren't watched her quietly.  He smiled at her
explorations as he walked with grace that echoed that of a hunting
cat's.  As they exited the Guild he glanced around, getting his
bearings and then said, "Hey, let's go to the Dragon's for lunch - I'm
supposed to meet Raye there in a few minutes anyway."

        Kardia nodded, only half hearing.  She felt muscles she hadn't
known she'd had unbunch and stretch for the first time in almost two
months.  Ever since the slaver had hacked off the front half of her left
foot after an attempted escape, she'd felt crippled.  While it wasn't as
bad as those who had lost an entire limb and she'd at least been able to
walk, she'd lost the freedom of walking without thinking.  Lost the grace
of movement that had been a little like breathing.

        So now she breathed and walked.

        At first, she was so occupied with the sheer sensation of walking
that she wasn't watching where she was going, trusting 'Raelf's presense
for guidance.  When she looked up she found that they'd gone east of the
south east corner of Merchants' Hill, into a far less wealthy portion of
the city.  The storm had flattened a lot of the wooden structures that were
there.  There were workmen out like a swarm of ants, cheerfully calling out
to each other, pulling broken things even further apart to put on the
mounting pile of debris in the streets, and banging away at frames that
were gradually getting erected into houses and rooms.

        It looked as if it were going to be a far nicer place than it had
been, Kardia thought as she saw broken, grafitti'ed and hole filled walls
being replaced with new walls.

        She snapped back into awareness of her body as she caught herself
in the old familiar rhythm of her old limp.  She scowled to herself and
concentrated on walking with slightly longer strides.  Then she realized
how fast she was going and started to slow, but, out of the corner of her
eye, she saw that 'Raelf was keeping easy pace with her.

        And grinning at her.

        She rolled her eyes heavenward and kept up her stride; but with a
little more attention to her surroundings.

        "'Ware!" a voice sung out, and she stopped abruptly as a bundle of
broken shakes dropped from the rooftop in front of her.  She grinned at the
ease of the stop and the consequent start.

        The alleys were getting more crowded, and Kardia was having to look
where she was going as she worked her way around men carrying loads of
lumber, shakes, roofing paper, cans of tar, bags of nails, and wall board.
She found herself using her new found balance to move more quickly and
easily even through the center of the crowd instead of hanging around along
the edges of the walkways.  The quickness she was moving with delighted her.
She found herself smiling at people, looking a few in the eye, and
realizing just how long it had been since she'd done that.

        She soon found out why it was getting more crowded as the small
street spilled out onto a main causeway.  Most of the traffic on the
main causeway turned onto this side of the city.  It seemed that here
was where most of the repairs were needed and headed.

        There were statues that lined the main causeway on both sides.
The rain had washed most of them clean and white, though many of them
were broken or defaced.  Some were missing heads, hands, and the
bodies were cracked or chipped.  A flowing cape ended in a stub of
broken stone.  She went on tip toe, just because she could, and traced
the jawline of a stone horse with no ears.

        Someone bumped into her, and she felt the tug at her bag.  She
hesitated the moment it took for her to remember what she had, and her leg
swung out in a roundhouse kick that landed her shin in what should have
been the softness of the thief's belly.  Kardia hit more bone than she was
expecting.  Coins rang as they hit the cobblestones.

        "Ooof!" said the thief; but the teenage girl didn't drop or fold
over Kardia's shin.  Instead, the thief simply grimaced and started to
run.  Kardia took two quick leaps and grabbed the back of the thief's
collar.  For a moment, Kardia was amazed that she's managed to catch the
girl.  Then she caught a shining blur of movement.  She dropped her hold
on the girl and jumped back.  It was only when she watched the little
thief vanish into the crowd that Kardia consciously realized the blur had
been a knife.

        She then noticed 'Raelf looking at her with another look after the
girl.  "It's O.K." Kardia said, fingering the neat slit in the bottom of
her money bag.  She went back to him and knelt easily to pick up the coins
that had dropped.

        She laughed breathlessly, as the adrenaline flooded in.  "Actually
more than O.K.  She didn't get anything more than a couple copper and
silver off me.  Most of my money's safe and deep in my stuff at Mrs.
Cludne's."  Kardia stood and glanced into the crowd, remembering the feel
of bone, "She could probably use it more than I could... and compared to
what she gave me back..."  She grinned and did a single front kick with
her weight on her left leg.  The toes of her right foot were about level
with her shoulders.  "Yowch." Kardia grimaced at tendons popping with the
movement and then laughed, "Looks like I'm going to have no more excuses
about not being in shape..."

        'Raelf laughed.  "Not bad for a gimpy lady.  Hey, I'm getting a
place set up to practice, since Serene needs some work after having her
kidling ... you interested?"

        "Practice?  You mean, martial arts?" Kardia asked with wide
eyes.

        "Yeah, I'm second Dan aikido and rated competent-to-teach in
Stone Monkey and Drunk Monkey styles, and I studied Jeet Kune Do in
Hong Kong for a while, but never examined for a rating.  Oh, and I do
know how to use sword and staff, at least forty different styles."

        "Goodness." she said, "I've always wanted to learn aikido."
Then she thought for a few steps, "Why?"

        "Camoflage, mostly, and magic isn't always appropriate or even
possible.  And sometimes it comes with the body.  Besides, it's fun."

        At the last she grinned and said, "Yeah... That would be fun."

-------

        They reached the Dragon's Inn without futher incident and as she
walked in the door, Andrea waved at 'Raelf and called out "Hey, Kardia,
over here!"  'Raelf kept going to his table by the fireplace.  Oh, right.
lunch, thought Kardia and realized she could probably get measurements and
such done in time to join them again during the meal.

        Kardia knew she was stretching the still unfamiliar feelings in her
newfound foot as she walked over, but only smiled as she reached Andrea.
"Nice day for a walk." she said trying not to smile too hard.

        Andrea whistled for Sheryl and the little 'corn got up, nickered
and trotted over to Kardia.  Kardia gently ran her fingers over the silky
softness of the little unicorn's neck.  "Braids?" Kardia asked as she ran a
finger down the smooth, neat intertwining of Sheryl's mane.

        "A little girl down at the Temple of Aditi did it," Andrea said, "I
think it's rather cute, don't you?"  Sheryl snoted in disgust, causing both
Kardia and Andrea to laugh out loud.

        "So, Andrea, have you and Sheryl decided just what you wish to do
about the curse?"  Kardia asked.

        Andrea nodded.  "We would like you to dispel the curse, as long as
doing so would not interfere with Sheryl's current shape-identity."

        Kardia nodded, thinking hard.  "Is there somewhere we can talk in
private and I can get a full set of measurements?"

        Andrea nodded.  "Our room."

        "O.K., good.  I need to discuss this operation with you."

        Kardia swung her legs back around and got up to follow Andrea
and Sheryl to their room.  When they reached the little room, Kardia
asked, "Is it O.K. for her to stand on the bed?  It'd be easier for me
to reach..."

        As Kardia spoke, Sheryl bounded onto the bed.

        Kardia chuckled and said, "This might tickle a little, but I gotta
be accurate on these."  She pulled a fountain pen, a piece of parchment,
and a piece of string with a number of colored knots on it.  She sketched a
stick figure of the 'corn on it, with a rectangle for the body, and four
legs, the neck and head.

        "All right, what's up?" Andrea asked, as she craned her neck to see
what Kardia was drawing.

        Kardia then took the string and wrapped it around Sheryl's barrel,
read it and wrote a number on the figure with a circled arrow around the
stick figure's barrel.  Another back just before the rear legs, and a
different number and another circled arrow at the back of the figure.  Then
from the middle of Sheryl's chest to juet below her tail.  Then down a
front leg, down a back leg, and both of those measurements were split at
the knees.  In front a measurement from the shoulder to where the leg
joined her body.  In the back from the top of her rear hip to where her
rear leg joined.  Then around the top and bottom of each leg.  Around the
neck just above where it joined with the body, then up near Sheryl's jaw.
Then from the top of Sheryl's head to her withers and in front from the
crook of her throat to the center of her chest.  Then from the center of
her chest to the point just between her front legs.  And on and on and
on... it seemed an innumerable number of measurements that seemed to cover
every single inch of the little 'corn.  A few of the measurements looked as
if she were taking them from the air around the 'corn.  By the end of it
Kardia had half a dozen different strings on the bed and two other drawings
with more scribbles on them.  They were details of Sheryl's head, a hoof,
one front leg and one back leg as well as one which looked like an abstract
line drawing of a pattern web.

        As she measured and wrote, Kardia said, "Sorry 'bout this, I know
that 'Raelf has an easier and quicker way to do this, but I'm not exactly
sure how his measurements convert, so I thought I'd be absolutely sure and
do it my way so I know exactly what's going on.

        "What I'm going to attempt to do is make Sheryl a cover out of the
same stuff as the scarf, but it's going to only cover the parts of her that
are affected by the curse.  It's a fairly regular pattern," Kardia squinted
at lines only she could see, "but seems to be intertwined with all of her
senses as well as her bodily functions, so it's going to have to cover all
of her.  Each thread, though, is going to be based on the pattern of the
curse.  The cover is going to have to fit her self-image of herself, so
it emphasizes what she physically is. "

        Kardia carefully picked up a hoof and measured it's diameter,
thickness and where and how it split.  Sheryl nickered almost like a giggle
when Kardia touched the ticklish frog of her foot and when the 'corn pulled
back at the ticklishness, Kardia let go and grinned at her.  "'Raelf
mentioned that the curse was also messing with Sheryl's magical expression
of her unicorn capabilities.  And, right here..." Kardia ran a light finger
around the base of Sheryl's horn, "there's a concentration of both the
curse and Sheryl's magic, and that's going to be the really tricky part.
What I'm going to do is make the bulk of the cover with the measurements
that I get today.  Then I'm going to come over and make the section that
concentrates right here with Sheryl.  One thing you two have got to know is
that while I'm working on it, I am not going to be speaking to anyone, and
that's going to be easier if I'm just closeted with Sheryl."

        "What do you mean, not speaking to anyone?" asked Andrea.

        Kardia grinned, "I don't know if it's necessary, but it's what I
did when I broke my brothers' curse.  While I'm actively working on the
weaving or knitting of the cover, I just don't speak to anyone.  It might
be good if you could run interference for me.  I can write, and I do bring
around a notepad when I am doing that; but it's easier if folks know that I
can't speak while doing the curse breaking.  It's going to be at least
three days of work, one of them with Sheryl."

        She finished with the last of her measurements and the whole paper
was covered with arrows and lines and numbers.

        "If you like, we could start tomorrow.  I have a few things I
want to finish up, today, before I go into silence."  Kardia started
to pack up her things.

        Andrea looked at the detailed drawings and frowned, "All right.
Since you haven't brought it up yet, how much is this going to cost?"

        Kardia blinked.  "Cost?  Hmmm... I'd appreciate it if you could do
my room and board and run interference while I'm working on her.  That
might be a rather boring three days for you.  The cost of the materials is
going to run about four gold, as it takes some time and work to process the
stuff, but as small as she is, I'm not going to need more than four ounces
of fiber and that's my running rate.  Other than that..."  Kardia shrugged,
"I guess it's up to you what you feel like paying."

     Andrea burst out laughing.  Kardia stopped packing to look
at Andrea, and Sheryl turned her head to look at her.  "I spent
years and years searching, and amassing thousands of gold coins
to pay off whatever great wizard would agree to lift the curse
for me," she explained when she had calmed down enough to speak
again.  "And now, when I finally find someone who will lift the
curse, what price does she ask?  Four gold pieces, and a little
of my time."  She laughed some more.
     Kardia grinned at the laughter, "Well," she said, "I told
you I wasn't a wizard.  I'm just a spinster, charging for the
work I do.  So am I to take it the four gold coins are not a
problem?"
     "Hell no," Andrea said.  "I just spent five thousand gold
pieces on a huge old house, four gold pieces is POCKET CHANGE for
me. Right now, anyway."
     Kardia looked up.  "A house?"
     Andrea nodded.  "Yes, a house.  Great big thing, 150,000
square feet or so the deed said."
     Kardia whistled, "150,000 square feet?  Why, that's a
mansion!"
     Andrea nodded.  "It certainly is.  And on top of Merchant's
Hill, too.  Can you see the irony?"
     "Why so inexpensive?" Kardia asked.
     "Well, it has a few problems that need debugging..."
     Kardia nearly dropped her fountain pen.  "Debugging?"
     Andrea nodded.  "It's a magic term--some new spells have
problems in them, called bugs, and they have to be rewritten to
get rid of the bugs.  What, did I say something wrong?"
     Kardia shook her head.  "No..." she laughed softly, "It's
just that they used the same term for a similar meaning where I
come from, and I was suprised to hear it here.  Tell me, what
'bugs' does this house have?"
     Andrea explained briefly about the manse's past history as
Kardia put away the string and paper. "and the clerk said it
had killed over twenty adventurers already," she finished.
"Not that I believe him, of course. Anyway, I'm trying to get a
party together, a Housestorming party, to go in, disarm the
traps, and make it a livable place again.  I hope we can start
in a week or so."
     Kardia nodded.  "So what are you going to do after that?"
she asked.  "150,000 square feet is a mighty big house..."
     Andrea shrugged.  "You know, I hadn't thought of that.  I
suppose I could offer rooms to all my friends...Hey!"  Andrea
looked up.  "That could be how I could repay you beyond the terms
you've asked.  How would you like free room and board at my
house, for as long as you want to stay?"
     Kardia considered.  Staying with a friend would be better
than rooming at Mrs. Cludne's...and what better way to avoid
being burglarized than living with a thief?  "All right.  That
sounds like a good deal."
     "Shake on it?" Andrea extended her hand.  Kardia started to
reach out, then realized she was still holding the pen.  She put
into her bag and then shook hands with Andrea, sealing the deal
and their friendship.
     As Kardia tucked her drawing bag in her pouch she said, "So,
how long have you been studying magic?"
     Andrea started.  "Huh?"
     "You seem to know some things about magic," Kardia said.
"Your use of the term 'debugging,' for example."  And she pointed
to the dresser beside the bed where Andrea's knapsack was lying
half-open.  "And I don't mean to pry, but I couldn't help but
notice that old book in there.  It looks like some sort of
magical text."
     Andrea sighed.  "Oh, I guess for ten years, off and on.  I
guess I thought that if I learned more about magic, it might help
me in my search for Sheryl's cure."
     "Did it?" Kardia asked.
     Andrea shook her head.  "I never really got very far in it,"
she said.  "In ten years, all I've really learned are a couple of
cantrips."  Actually she was being a bit conservative; she
actually knew two or three small but highly-useful spells.  "I
can cast them okay when I remember to memorize them.  But I never
really bothered to study full-time--I don't want to become
dependant on magic rather than on my own skills."
     Kardia nodded.  "Wise of you."
     They stepped out, walked back down to the main taproom.
Kardia's step was still pronouncedly strange, almost as if she
hadn't used her left leg properly in a long time.  Andrea sat
down at her table and ordered an ale.
     As she sipped from it, Kardia went to the bulletin board,
looked at her notice for a moment, then pulled it down with an
odd look on her face.  "My," she said softly and then looked at
Andrea.  "Could I also impose upon you to share some of your
house's room with another person?  I think this is going to be a
very interesting person..."  She showed Andrea the butterfly in
the colors of the rainbow and the word Jameson written upon it.
"Would that be all right?"
     Andrea examined the notice.  She wasn't sure what "Toad the
Wet Sprocket" meant, but that didn't draw her attention.  What
did was the rainbow-colored ink that this Jameson person had
used, and the smooth, even, feminine handwriting in which she'd
signed her name.
     "Hmm.  I'd be inclined to say yes, but on one condition, I
think.  I don't want any of my guests owing me favors, so I think
that I'll agree if this person is willing to help somehow with
the housestorming.  Whoever she is, she's certain to have some
kind of skills that could be of use, whether it's a sharp mind or
a sharp sword.  Given the form of this person's handwriting, I'd
say it's more inclined to be the former."
     "You can tell this?" Kardia asked.
     "I've read some on handwriting analysis," Andrea said.  At
Kardia's raised eyebrow, she added, "It's useful for forgery and
also for reading scrawled spell formulas in old musty tomes."
     Kardia grinned.  "Of course."  She looked over toward the
table by the fire, where 'Raelf and ar'Elya were sitting, along
with someone else.  "I'm going to go eat with 'Raelf," Kardia
said.  "Join us?"
     Andrea shook her head.  "No, we've already eaten.  I think
I'll go back to my room and study some more, maybe plan for
later.  I'll see you around."
     Kardia simply nodded.  Then she walked over to 'Raelf's table as
Andrea took her tankard of ale and went back to her room.

--
Liralen Li             |  "... and how you feel can make it real
aka Phyllis Rostykus   |       Real as anything you've seen... "
li@Data-IO.com         |                      Peter Gabriel _US_

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From: CHM173S@vma.smsu.edu.Ext (Andrea and Sheryl (Chris Meadows))
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [AU] ADMIN: Please Email First
Date: Sun, 18 Apr 93 03:26:15 CDT
Organization: Andrea & Sheryl -- Substitute Authors At Large
Lines: 25
Message-ID: <16BB4305C.CHM173S@vma.smsu.edu.Ext>
NNTP-Posting-Host: vma.smsu.edu
Keywords: Please email us before posting to our thread, okay?
X-Newsreader: NNR/VM S_1.3.2

Hello!  This is Andrea and Sheryl.  We've sort of taken over for
our author temporarily.  Anyway, we'd like to mention a couple of
things.

A couple of people have posted to our thread without emailing us
first.  Now, while we fully appreciate new people joining into our
thread, one of these posts had, well, a few inaccuracies (we've
rewritten the inaccurate part of the post, and will be posting it
shortly when we get the author's approval).  We really would like
to avoid this sort of thing, and I'm sure that the potential authors
would, too.

So, I would like to ask you, if you want to join the [AU] thread
or have a potential post for it, please email us first.  We will
read over your post and offer suggestions and corrections, and
possibly rewrite part of it if it is too badly off the track.  It
will help avoid any errors, and keep the thread on track.

Thanks!

--
Chris Meadows           ||  Pity me, I live near Branson!!!
CHM173S@SMSVMA.BITNET   ||  -----------------------------------
CHM173S@VMA.SMSU.EDU    ||  Andrea & Sheryl
CMEADOWS@NYX.CS.DU.EDU  ||  [AU] thread, alt.pub.dragons-inn

Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
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 intel.com!chnews!ornews.intel.com!ibeam!hutch
From: hutch@ibeam.intel.com (Steve Hutchison)
Subject: [Jiri][Storm]: A Tale in the Dark- FFD II.
Message-ID: <C5p9I4.Gps@ibeam.intel.com>
Organization: Intel Corp., Hillsboro, Oregon
Date: Sun, 18 Apr 1993 22:08:28 GMT
Lines: 458

[ADMIN] posted for Dani Treutler

  Swirling mists dance and weave, enclosing, carressing.  Twisting
 tendrils of mist, twining round the mind.  Loving touches from
 sweet lips of mist.

  "Funny what you feel, when sitting in the dark."

  The heart lurches, fear pounds through veins. The voice, the voice.
 It's of the mist, it is the mist.  Now silence, only the touch of
 the mist remains.  Then now, it comes again, the cold dark voice.

  "I once heard, while sitting in the dark... I heard my my soul,
 speaking softly, subtle whispers.  Then the mist came, caressing
 me as it caresses you now. What it said, I don't really know. But
 when next I lived, I was black and cold."  The voice, mingling with
 the mist...

  "Oh, I know what you wonder. I taste your fear, your questions. You
 would know where you are. And more importantly, who am I, that speaks
 to you in the dark.  Listen, little bird, and I will tell."

  The mists billow, expanding, yet there is no pressure.  Only...
 presence.  Fingers of mist, encircling the throat, tightening. But
 not hurting, not yet.

  "Doomed, am I, to walk the Halls of the Night. Through twisting
 passages of labyrinth dark. I stride the ways to pursue the Art. The
 art of darkness, the ways of the Blacke. For that am I, now and ever.
 My fate was sealed in the Halls of the Nether. The Netherlord spake,
 and I did pledge to follow the Way, through darkness tread. It pulses
 through me, causing my heart to beat. 'Tis the drink of my essence,
 my very blood.  Flowing through my vessels, is the Power and the
 Dark."

  Now the mist and the dark are one.  It can no longer be seen, only
 felt. The Dark takes shape, as did the mist.  Folding in on itself,
 then growing back out. Almost as if the Dark was made of mist, the
 way it moves, the way it seems to breath.

  "Funny what you see, while sitting in the dark..."

  The voice again. The voice of mist, the voice of dark. Malicious
 it is, but not frightening. Almost beautiful, as is the Night from
 whence it comes.

  "But you would know my name, yes? Ah, names are a powerful thing.
 Would you tell me yours? I didn't think so. Then let me ease your
 fear by telling you mine. I am the one, who waits in the dark. I
 am the one, who stalks the night.  A beast say some, a fiend of the
 most vile origins. Both are right. I am he, who purity does lack. I
 am he, Kalhad the Blackk. Once a god of Kalladahn, my altars ran with
 the blodd of the damned. Thousands of years, thousands of lives. All
 fell down under the ebon knives. Then the Light came to me one night.
 The days they fled, dawn brought the darkdays. The Godslayer came
 with the armies of Light and his spear clove deep, cursed weapon of
 bright. I was slain, as well as all Kalladahn. We were denied the day
 when came the bloody dawn. And so I reigned, in my prison of night.
 Denied the day, and forbidden the light. So did I wait, the Darks'
 foul spawn, for many morrows' lights, and morning dawns. Did I
 murder the Day, or did it kill me? Another time, I'll let you see."

  The darkness moves as it chuckles silently.  A laugh that is felt,
 not heard.  For a long moment, the darkness laughs in silence.  It
 is almost as if it isn't alive anymore.  But it is- do not doubt, not
 ever.  The voice then speaks again, but does it speak aloud?

  "Now that I've told you who I am, you'll want to know the hows and
 whys. I brought you here so I could ask. Do you know of life and
 death? Of course not," the darkness seems to shake, "for you are
 mortal, and what mortal knows that? Ah, there are some. Indeed there
 are. I will tell you of one, so that you may see. Why you? Don't ask.
 Just know that I shall share with you this rare glimpse for reasons
 of my own. There are tales that some have told, of adventure and
 heroism so true and bold. There are tales that I have heard, of men
 who braved hells foulest curs. There are tales that many enjoy, for
 they tell of victory o'ver deaths dark void. But there are also tales
 that do not. Tales that show how death is wrought. I will tell you
 one that is so."

  The mist appears again, separate from the dark, which even now
 catches the tendrils in a blackened hand, weaving them together.
 A knot is tied, and for a moment it holds. After that moment, it
 bursts apart in a quick flash of dark. Kalhad the Blackk swirls
 the mist around until it becomes a terrible black mass of evil
 clouds. Clouds? Yes, that is what they are. And underneath them runs
 the terrified sea...

  "Lystyn close, and I wyll tell. The Tragedy, the Soulstars' Tale."

  *******************************************************************

  The wind howled in fierce fury, and almost, it seemed, in triumph.
 The Black Ship of Lady Death clove brutishly through the darkened
 waves, gathering a speed of unholy magnitude as it bore down upon
 the ship of sea-doomed men.  The Lady herself stood at the bow,
 smiling upon all that She had wrought.  Long black tresses She had,
 hair that was so full and beautiful it was almost alive. And Her
 lips- so full, so hungry.  Of Her eyes most cannot speak, for to
 look into the eyes of the Lady of Death is to bare your soul to
 Her.  I, though, know those eyes.  I know them well.  Of the deepest
 black are they, and bright in a dark sort of way.   They _shine_
 darkness, just as the blue eyes of the Soulstars' captain shine
 bright.  It is those eyes, those doorways to the Nine Realms of
 Hell...

 [Is she not beautiful, little bird?  She is my lady, my love...]

  The Lady curled her lips into a evil smile, and an equally hungry
 tongue ran along them as She did.  Her captain was making up for
 his previous mistakes, the Soulstar now being caught between Her
 ship, and Her beast.  A melodious laugh escaped Her as She watched
 the men scramble across the deck of their ship, as if there was
 something that they could do.

                           ********

  A scream escaped Magarths' lips as he saw the huge black shape rise
 up out of the sea in front of them.  The shrill call was actually an
 order, but even had it been distinguishable it would not have been
 obeyed, for they other sailors at the bow were also as terrified as
 the second mate was.  It took a crucial moment for him to get over
 his initial panic and call again for the spinnicker to be pulled in.
 He knew that a quick turn would be necesarry, and it would be
 disaster to come about with the parachute like sail still flying.  It
 would simply tangle up in the riggings and with the other sails as
 it collapsed.  The men manning it began to frantically obey, trying
 to pull it in, their eyes now on the work, and not the monster.

  The black sail began to come down.  Cain looked briefly at it,
 witnessing the silver star emblazonned upon it fall from the
 glorious position it had flown at moments before.  The soulstar
 falling, he thought.  That was the most evil of omens...  He
 tore his dark thoughts away from the spinnaker sail and thrust
 them towards darker subjects.  A huge black shape had begun to
 rise up from the deep, straight in their path.  There would be time
 enough to come about once.  That monster better not move fast.
 The black haired man tried to get a better view of what it was that
 rose in there path.  Even as the sail came down, the dripping black
 water began to fall from the sea risen shape.  No, he thought, not
 just water, water and kelp.

  Cain knew fear when he looked upon the horror before him.  He
 knew then what it was to be afraid.  The beast that rose up was
 terrible indeed to behold.  Fully as high as the ships' mast it
 rose from the water.  Under the black weed and kelp it was a deep
 dark blue, with a green underbelly.  Cain couldn't decide if it
 looked more like a snake or a dragon.  Or something completely
 different.  The creature of the deep had two baleful red eyes that
 glowed in the halflight of the storm.  It's maw was even more
 fearsome, for many long fangs did it hold, each as long as a mans'
 arm, but much thicker around.  Two, no three, rows of these teeth
 did it have.  Here was a beast that could bite a ship in twain.
 And I tell you now, that is exactly what it had done many a time
 in the past.  This was a beast that should not be.

  Cain hollarred the order to come about just as the spinnicker sail
 was hauled in.  Skip and the Helmsman laboured with the tiller,
 trying to turn the wheel as fast as they could.  Even with both men
 working on it, it was taking too long.  Cain quickly lent his
 strength to theirs, and the combined might was enough to turn the
 rudder sharply through the thick sea below.  The men held fast to
 the wheel, not letting up for an instant.  As the ship turned past
 the turning point, Taylor shouted "Helms a lee!" and the sailors
 frantically pulled at the riggings and sheets as the sails caught the
 wind from their new angle to it.  Even as the new tack set, the beast
 howled in rage and slowly turned to head the Soulstar off.

   "We'll not outrun them both Cain!" Skip shouted over the noise of
 beast and storm.  "We must choose the lesser of the two evils."

   "I know Skip, but I don't think that there is much choice for us.
 Whoever, or whatever, is controlling this unholy storm sent this evil
 ship after us, and now has called up a daemon of the deop.  They
 never intended to give us a choice in the matter.  Our hand is
 forced."  The captains' blue eyes took on a fierce glint as he took
 a long careful look at the ship now closing the distance between
 them.  They were the cold and calculating eyes of a killer, of an
 assassin.  After his mental calculations were complete, Cain turned
 back to Skip, a fierce and evil grin splitting his hard face.

   "Skip, they force our hand, but we'll not go along with their
 plan."

   "We won't, captain?" Old Skip was puzzled, for he could see no way
 out of their predicament.

   "No, old friend. We won't.  See now, the daemon seeks to head us
 off again.  If it were left to it, we'd be clinging to splintered
 wood right now.  Whatever master keeps such pets has this one on a
 tight leash.  They want us, Skip.  The Black Ship wants us.  Well,
 they shall have us, but not as they want us!  We're going to board
 them."

   Skip nearly choked on his tongue.  "B-b-board them, captain? Surely
 you can't actually mean.."

   "Yes I mean it Skip," Cain interupted.  "They won't expect us to
 take the initiative and attack them.  Hell, when did the merchantman
 ever turn round and attack the pirates?  We've got no other option
 but to die- and we may not even have a choice in that matter.  But if
 we're to die this day, we do it on  our own terms."

   Skip felt the fierce pride that so often came up when his captain
 was concerned.  Never did Cain back down.  Never was he afraid to
 face death.  And never did he like to accept life on it's own ground.
 They would die alright.  But they would put up one hell of a fight.
 Skip turned, his face beaming, and called to the sailors that even
 now made ready to fire on the beast.  They were wheeling the cannon
 that Cain had designed into position on the starboard side to fire on
 the seademon.  They were puzzled by his order, but moved the long
 strange gun to the bow anyways.  It fit easily into the metal grooves
 set in the deck, and was lowered into them with an audible click.
 The wheels folded up neatly to the sides of the guns' base, and they
 swivelled it around to face the fore.  They didn't load it with an
 iron cannonball, but with strange steel shards that Cain called
 'shrapanal' or something like that.

   Once the gun was in place, the Soulstar did the unconceivable.
 The Lady had watched them wheel their gun into place, laughing at
 their futile attempt to kill Her fiend.  Its' life was nothing,
 once its' purpose was fulfilled- and it would be soon, for there
 were only a few two hundreds of meters separating the ships now.
 She was becoming very excited now, for soon She would feed and
 satisfy her wild lusts.  She felt the heartbeats of every man aboard
 the other ship now, and they pulsed through Her, giving Her the
 feeling of having Her own heart for a fleeting moment.  Oh, but She
 would have her fill today.

   As She stood on the deck of Her flagship, The Black Aria, She
 searched carefully for the life-feel of the one She sought.  Ah,
 there it was- unmistakable, with its' fire and its' vibrance.  It was
 always pleasing to find a death dealer that was so... alive.  She was
 pleased when Her greatest servants were like that- it was so much
 more pleasurable to take one of them.  They fought untill the very
 end, and even as She took them, they still defied.  She had no doubts
 that Her current quarry would put up such a fight.  Ah, there he was.
 She could see him now upon the deck of the Soulstar.  Clad in black
 breeches, shirt and cloak, as was appropriate.  Even as She smiled
 once more in anticipation, the mortal surprised Her again.  The
 Soulstar prepared to turn again.  But where to?  There was nowhere to
 go...

   The Lady of Death howled in rage at her ships captain, even as she
 smiled inwardly, for the humans' ship was turning to face them!  Oh
 but the wonders of wonders.  Mortals never ceased to surprise Her.
 When it seemed that they were left no choices, they always found a
 way to take their destinies into their own hands.  Their destinies
 they could take, She laughed, but not their fates.  Their fates were
 Hers to mold.  Oh, but this would be pleasing.  And pleasure was what
 she sought...

   Cain took his sword from the young sailor who had fetched it and
 strapped the sword belt round his waist.  His hand gripped the pommel
 until his knuckles where white as the Soulstar came round completly
 to face the Black Ship.  He studied the other ship carefully.  There
 was less than a kilometer between them now, and this distance closed
 quickly as both ships hurtled cross the waves at each other, the
 one still on a starboard broad reach, the others' tack now a port
 beam reach.  The black ship did indeed have a huge tear in her
 mainsail.  The other sails too were tattared and torn with age, yet
 they still all caught the wind somehow.  The ship was completely
 black.  It wasn't painted so, Cain knew.  It _was_ black- its wood,
 its bones, its very soul.  Even the sails and riggings were of that
 colour.  It was strange- Cain dressed always in black, but the black
 of the other ship was not just in its' colour, but its' very nature.

   Cain gasped aloud, a chill hand running up his spine as the crew
 of the other ship became visible.  They were not men.  This did not
 surprise him, for he knew at first glance that the ship was evil.
 But they were far more so than he had imagined.  Skeletal wraiths
 scrammbled over the riggings.  Animated corpses scurried across the
 deck.  The spinal remains of long dead sailors sailed that ship of
 death.  A figure in a black cloak and hood climbed up onto the poop
 deck to stand beside a large behemoth manning the wheel.  Another
 corpseman stood there as well, obviously the captain by the looks of
 his tattered hat and cape.  The hooded figure seemed to look right
 at Cain, and even though he could see no face, he knew that eyes
 long dead, nor ever alive, locked with his own blue orbs.

   The Lady laugh a casual and almost carefree sound, if not for the
 malevolent undertones, as She locked her prey with Her black eyes.
 Even as the deer freezes when seeing the wolfs' eyes, Cain was rooted
 to the spot upon where he stood.  He tried to call an order, but his
 lips moved not and no sound escaped him.  He tried to turn away, but
 his muscles would not obey his mind.  The hooded figure tore at his
 vision even more than the black flag flying above had earlier.  He
 screamed inside his head, straining to gain control of his body.  A
 dim part of his mind registered a concerned query from someone.
 Skip.  It was Skip.  His heart thudded dully in his ears.  His
 breath seemed laboured and ragged.  Cain saw long black tresses blow
 out from under the hood of the dark one.

   It is the Lady of Death upon the seas.  She has come for me.  How
 he knew this, Cain could not fathom.  But, he had known so earlier,
 when the storm was first sighted.  When he had said the She would
 ride the black waves of the storm, he could not have possibly known
 how right he had been.  Where the knowlwdge came from would never be
 known, and it mattered not.  All that mattered was her...  NO! Cain
 strained hard against the unseen eyes that held him.  I will not fall
 so easily, his mind screamed at his tormentor.  I will not be your
 toy.  With a finally audible cry, Cain tore his eyes away from the
 gaze even as Old Skip stood in front of him and began to shake him
 by the shoulders.

   "I'm... I'm all right Skip.  What happened?"

   "You sure Cain?  You went all funny like.  It was as if you were
 frozen."  Skip was feeling relief flood back into him as Cain
 regained his composure.

    "There was something there Skip.  Something with eyes that burned
 right through me, into me..." Cain shook his head once more to clear
 it, then risked another glance at the black ship, careful not to look
 at the aft end and the figure in black that he knew was there.  The
 two ships were only five hundred meters apart.  He saw no cannons on
 the other ships deck, only the swarming skeletal wraiths.  Quickly he
 directed his attention to his gunner.  At his nod, the man turned and
 called his orders.  A moment later, the cannon shook and spit out its
 steely breath.  Cunks and shards of metal torn into the other ship,
 shredding sail and sailors alike.  As they turned to reload, Cain
 held up a hand as all on board gasped in horror.  The corpses that
 had fallen stood up again, some missing arms and leges, others cut
 nearly in half.  Before astonished mortal eyes, the legion of the
 dead began to heal itself, new limbs sprouting, and new corpses
 growing from the severed limbs.

   Cain quickly gave the order to load with 'ball, and the gunnery
 crew lowered the angle of the long cannon, now aiming for the hull
 of the black ship.  They had forsaken this a moment ago because of
 the danger of having the other ship list in front of them.  They
 had to take that risk now, for the shrapnell hadn't done what it
 was supposed to do.  ANother shout, and the cannon fired again,
 hitting the other ship high up on the hull.  Black wood splintered
 well above the water line as the missle hit right below the rail at
 the bow.  The men scrambled to readjust the angle and reload for one
 more shot.  They ships were less that three hundred meters apart now.

   Once more the silver dragon spit it's steel breath, another 'ball
 hurtling towards the oncoming ship.  This one struch lower down, and
 further along the port side.  The small hole it made was low enough
 that water flow in as the ship hit the crests of the higher waves.
 The crew of the 'Star cheered as they prepared for one more shot.
 Would they have enough time?  Two hundred meters now.  One hundred
 and fifty.  The angle was ready.  The deck of the other ship was
 filling steadily with more corpsefoe as they came up from below or
 down from the rigging.  One hundred meters.  Taylor gritted his teeth
 as he saw the thick black ropes being brought to the fore of the
 skeletal crowds.  Some of them even readied crude bows.  There wasn't
 much time left...

   A crashing boom as the dragon spit forth another bolt.  Time seemed
 to slow as the cannonball flew from the mouth of the cannon and on to
 it's target.  It was a little high, as the ships continued to close.
 Wood and flesh splintered as the deadly steel ball crashed over the
 railing of the ship and struck the center of the deck, right at the
 base of the mast.  Several of the wraiths that had been in the
 missles direct path did not stand up this time.  There was not enough
 left of them to regrow.  The mast creeked, then shook as a huge crack
 began to run up its length.  The missed shot had actually done more
 good than harm.  The mast of the black ship began to splinter and
 break, and slowly swayed back in forth as the relentless wind
 continued to tear into it, heedless of its' weakened and damaged
 state.  The black ship was crippled, for it could not move without
 a mast to support its' sails, no matter how well they worked in their
 torn condidtion.

   Yet as the deck of the black ship began to crack, a jolting thud
 rocked the Soulstar.  Men flew headlong and barrels below strained
 and broke their lashings as the sleek vessel shuddered to a grinding
 halt.  Amid cries of surpirse and shock, new sounds of horror sprung
 up as the first sailors saw the forgotten sea daemon.  The scaly
 monster had gripped the 'Star in four massive arms.  Claws sunk deep
 into the wood, locking into the sides of the ship.  Even as Cains'
 ship slowed to a rough unnatural stop in the creatures grasp, the
 Black Ship of Lady Death also slowed as it's mast began to topple.
 Strangely, it toppled not with the wind, but in the opposite
 direction that the wind should have blown it.  An unseen hand guided
 the mast to fall directly in the path of the Soulstar.  Only fifty
 meters now separted the two ships.  The black ship moved on as it
 quickly lost speed, and the 'Star inched forward at only a fraction
 of its' previous speed.

   The blue and green beast let go of the Soulstar with one arm and
 held it out to brace his mistress's ship.  The mast fell lazily, not
 at all worried, as the Soulstar slid forward through the waves.  Her
 crew looked on in helpless horror as the ship moved into the path of
 the toppling mast.  Sailors scrambled across the decks to get out of
 the way of the black mast.  With a resounding crash that was loud
 even above the howling storm the mast connected with the deck of the
 Soulstar, crushing the railings on either side of the deck, the evil
 black sigil flying now above the waves on the far side of the 'Star,
 where the masts top extended.

   Cain swore an unholy oath as he rushed down to meet Taylor on the
 deck.  The monster now held both ships side by side, and they both
 shook one final mighty shake as they were locked in together in the
 grip of the hideous behemoth of the deep.  As the men struggled to
 their feet, so too did the Legion of Death on the other ship, now
 but twenty feet away, and alongside.  Black ropes began to fly across
 the gap and grappling hooks took seat in the railings of Cains' ship.
 The black clad captain drew the sword of the Kaladh'ran and readied
 to face the corpse foe that even now began to soundlessly flow across
 the bridge made by their ships' mast.

   The men of the doomed ship drew their swords and advanced to meet
 the onslaught with grim looks upon their faces.  The only sounds that
 could be heard were those made by the wind and waves.  Ropes and
 timbers creeked and moaned.  Even the great seabeast had fallen
 silent.  Of a sudden, the sailors began to scream their battle cry as
 one, but still the undead army held its' oath of silence as the first
 of them swarmed over onto the deck of the Soulstar.

   ******************************************************************

  "I see that I have caught your interest, little bird.  Would you
 like to hear more?  Hehehehe... It matters not what you would like,
 for I will tell you the tale anyways.  But it amuses me to ask you.
 Do you see?  Do you see how futile mortal existance can be?  When
 the Lady sets out to satisfy her lust, and I tell you that lust is
 great, men shall fall and men shall die.  She will reap her harvest
 from the fields of the earth, and cut men down with her great reap.
 No mortal hand can stay the HAnd of Death."

   The mist seems to pour back up, and the scene dissolves.  Kalhad
 the Blackk gathers the mist up into his blackened hands again,
 playing with it for a moment, then sending it to snake back round
 the mind, and the throat.  Malevolence incarnate is his dark
 voice.

   "Oh sweetest darkest Lady of Death,
   Give unto me thy icy breath.
   Let me taste thy lips so cold,
   Of mine soul thou doss take hold.
   Squeeze me tighter in thy grip,
   And hie thee now to Cain's doomed ship."

   Fingers of mist, twining and circling.  Tightening round the mind,
 taking root in the now pure soul.  Probing, questing, searching, the
 tendrils of mist feel through the mind until they find what they
 seek.  Now, they have it.  The sweet lips kiss softly, carressing and
 teasing.  Then suddenly, they are gone, and the snakes of mist are
 biting the soul, injecting their dark venom through fangs of Night.
 Slowly, ever so slowly, the body shudders as the poison of the Dark
 begins to taint the soul.

   "Funny what you hear, when you're sitting in the dark."


 --Kalhad the Blackk, master of Mists and Walker of the Dark.

[ADMIN]: Thanks to Hutch for posting this for me, and again to Jen
and the rest of the JOI crew.  And of course to Andrea and Sheryl
for inspiration. ;)

Dani Treutler. <B7P7@MUSICB.MCGILL.CA>



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Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [Pitzar] An End...
Message-ID: <1993Apr19.024241.11243@organpipe.uug.arizona.edu>
From: corleyj@argon.gas.uug.arizona.edu (Jason D Corley )
Date: 19 Apr 93 02:42:41 GMT
Sender: news@organpipe.uug.arizona.edu
Organization: University of Arizona, Tucson
Lines: 103

I spent the night in an alley halfway up the Arcade of Unforgotten
Heroes.  The statues hadn't seemed to have been touched at all by the
storm.  I didn't sleep.  I spent the night staring at the cobbles,
counting them slowly.

The next morning I crawled up out of the muck, brushed myself off
and knocked on the door to the Temple of Aditi.  "How can I serve?"
the girl at the door asked.

"May I see Lady Delmara, please?" I said, trying not to meet her gaze.
She nodded, and let me in.  She didn't say anything about the way
I looked.  Lady Delmara settled herself down in the chair across from
me.
"Good morning, sir."
"Hi."
"How may I serve you?" she asked.  I unslung my knapsack. The sudden
movement made her flinch.  I wondered exactly how many times she had
been hurt, or hurt herself, because of her religion.  I pulled
a mass of damp parchment from the knapsack and grabbed a quill,
too.  I looked at her closely. She had relaxed again, and looked
very at ease, comfortable, and desirable.

"I'm from the Examiner", I said.  "Could you answer a few questions for
me?"
"As you wish." she said.
"Where did you get the money to build a new Low Town?"
Her face was impassive. "I can't tell you that."
I looked at her. "Was it a parishoner?  A regular?  Did you know him?
Male or female?"
Her face twitched again. "I can't tell you."
The pen scritched to a halt on the page.

I knew what I should do.  I should thank her for her time and stand
up and walk out.  Just stand up and walk away from her and the temple.
But I didn't do that.  I didn't walk away.
"Tell me." I said, my voice filled with a sudden anger, the anger of
two days building quickly.
She shook her head, staring at me suddenly. "N..I can't."
I tried to keep my voice even, but it sounded too loud in the small room,
"Tell me who gave you the money."
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.  I leaned forwards as I got to
my feet.  She still sat there,  she looked so strange, this strong,
beautiful, confident woman cowering in her chair.
It was my turn to be left speechless.  "Sorry."  I said, and coughed.
"Sorry."
I left quickly.

Outside the sun blazed down and made my eyeballs hurt.  I was breathing
heavily.  I looked out from the top of the temple steps across midtown.
The city was alive, moving around. And it was moving around without me
in it.  Everything I once had, disappeared in a few words and a single
storm.  "Sure, I'll cover the Blackhawk story for you..." and a
lance of lightning coming down from the sky right into the heart of
the city.  My city.  My heart.  And it was like I had never been here,
never stepped in the muddy streets.  My footprints were gone.  The bottle
in my desk was broken.  And Dawn...

I knew what I should do.  And I did it.

I stepped into the office and I guess I had a look in my eye, because
Steve took out a sympathetic parchment and laid it on the top of the desk.
I stuck my head into Heartwell's office.  He had some third-rate noble
up against the ropes.  "See you around, Mr. Heartwell."  He started to
say something. I just looked at him ans said "Steve can clean out my
office."  Heartwell looked at me and said, "All right."

I left Generica.  I split from the whole fucking city.  There was a long
road towards a horizon and a sky filled with stars right outside that
gate.  And I knew, somehow, that I wouldn't be any happier there. But
at least I wouldn't be back there.  In the city.  A city of pain and
a hundred thousand memories, of chances that someone offered you once
that you didn't take.

As I my boots touched the mud outside the city, 12 more on horseback
rode in.  They were all talking excitedly.  They were all seeking their
fortune in the big city.

As I watched them, they disappeared around a corner and soon I couldn't
hear them in the low humming of the city.  Generica goes on, sure.
But it goes on without me.

*********************************
At the _Examiner_, in Old Man Heartwell's office, there is a box.
Inside this box are 15 scrolls of parchment, the receiving end of
15 other scrolls that receive information from correspondants all
over Generica and the world.  One of them has no name at the top.
Sometimes Heartwell picks up that scroll, unfolds it carefully, squints
in the dim light of an oil lamp for any words, then closes it up and
returns it to the box.

It is always blank.


[ADMIN: I am leaving the net indefinitely.  The Generican Examiner is
now open property. And when Jake comes back, I come back.  Simple as
that. ;-) ]


--
******************************************************************************
"The difference between the military and the Boy Scouts of America is the Boy
 Scouts are allowed to carry knives and they have adult leadership."--Anon.
Jason D. "corleyj@gas.uug.arizona.edu" Corley might have posted this.