Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: A somewhat spectacular new arrival...
Message-ID: <1992May19.103919.2787@otago.ac.nz>
From: stanger@otago.ac.nz (Nigel Stanger)
Date: 19 May 92 10:39:18 +1300

Conversation in the Inn mutes as everyone becomes aware of an
extremely annoying high-pitched whining sound. All heads turn
towards its source, which seems to be directly above one of the
tables in the middle of the room. The whining grows in volume,
then, abruptly, a glowing portal springs into being above the
table. Tendrils of energy leap randomly from it, and all can hear
a vague crackling noise. The patrons at the table leap back just
as there is a loud _whoosh_, and a man falls through the portal
and impacts on the table, breaking it. The portal closes behind
him with a strangled squeak.

The man lies still, as if dead or unconscious. He wears heavy
furs, which are frosted with ice. As Rowan starts across the
room, a voice comes from under the furs.

"_Ouch_."

The man clambers stiffly to his feet, spilling glittering ice
crystals onto the floor. He divests himself of the furs,
revealing that he is dressed entirely in grey, from the top of
his hat to the tips of his boots. He carries a 7' long staff and
a backpack -- anything else is concealed by the long grey cloak
he wears. Those nearby hear him mutter: "Damn you Malazar, where
have you sent me now?"

He looks around, worry lines creasing his brow. "Orson? Orson!
Where are you?"

Another portal springs open in the ceiling, and what looks like a
large bundle of fur drops onto the floor with a yelp. The grey
man rushes to it. The bundle of fur gets up, revealing itself to
be a _very_ large wolf. The wolf is old, its grey fur tinged with
silver. It whines and licks the grey man's hand, and he hugs it.

The grey man finally becomes aware of his surroundings. He
notices Rowan looking rather pointedly at the demolished table,
and looks sheepish. "I am sorry sir, for the destruction I have
wrought, but this means of travel was not of my choosing. Here.
This should pay for the damage." He tosses a bag of coins to
Rowan.

"Now that I am here I suppose I should find lodging. My name is
Gareth, called by many 'the Grey'." As he says this, he smiles
slightly, as if sharing a private joke. "Do you have a room?"
Rowan nods. "Good. Do you have any objection to my friend Orson
staying here with me?" Gareth indicates the wolf, who is sitting
patiently on the floor next to Gareth. "He can sleep elsewhere if
you wish."

-----
Gareth the Grey, wanderer from afar.