Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: pope@physics.su.OZ.AU (The Nightstalker)
Subject: The Nightstalker enters
Message-ID: <1992May15.151923.19482@ucc.su.OZ.AU>
Date: Fri, 15 May 1992 15:19:23 GMT

It is late, really quite late, and the sun is soon to rise.  Many people tend
to stay in the Inn till all hours, sometimes it is better than walking home.
Dynamic Generica continues on.  A shadowy figure enters the Inn.  He is 
dressed all in black, but then there is nothing peculiar about this, for
many of the patrons of this establishment dress in this manner.  It seems that
he has a blade of some sort, recently used, as blood drips from under his
dark cloak.  His face is hidden.  There is a strange smell about him, the 
smell of blood, of death.  His clothes are torn, as if by claws.  He has had
a busy night.
"Hail ye patrons, guess ye me to be The Nightstalker, for indeed I am he.  I
stalk the night.  There is much evil in this city, not just the evil of mens
hearts, for there is much of that.  Fat greedy merchants who live of the backs
of others.  There are cheap whores who sell themselves so that they may buy
opium or black lotus for some strange trip into insanity.  There are assasins,
lowlife scum who kill for money.  There is much more evil than that.  The
night is the domain of evil, beware the foolish traveller, he seeks his own
death with earnest.  Tonight, I slayed a creature of the night, a bloodsucker
who murdered women and children for its existance.  I drove my magic blade
through its unholy heart and snuffed it out of existance.  It tried to
become mist, but I summoned a wind.  It tried to become a bat, but I too can
do that.  I watched it squirm at the end of my blade and I laughed, laughed
long and hard.  I do believe that it begged for mercy, but for such creatures 
I have none save ending its existance.  Did its victims beg, did it hear the
cries of pain and fear?  Last night I destroyed a creature which mimics others
but has no life of its own, no way to procreate without stealing a human form.
Last week, a wolf that was a man, silver blade in tortured heart.  The nights
are bleak and lonely, but if I stalk not, what will befall."

With this, the Nightstalker disappears upstairs, just as the sun begins to 
rise.

--
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*     The Nightstalker : Between the night and the light he walks.            *
*     "Now I know there is noone who is waiting, at the end of that long and  *
*      winding road."                                                         *
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