From: djb6@ellis.uchicago.edu (Dennis Brennan)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: Re: Karl: to the one with the goofy glowing eyes
Message-ID: <1992May20.220749.25572@midway.uchicago.edu>
Date: 20 May 92 22:07:49 GMT
References: <49339@mentor.cc.purdue.edu>


>From her conversation with the Gabrielite Healer, the glowing-eyed one looks
>up.  "I think you're going about it wrong, neighbor minotaur.  Our tipsy Karl,
>here, had the right idea the first time.  Infiltration.  His only mistake lay
>in going in alone."
> 
>   She toys with her glass.  "Assasination is distasteful to some, but I have
>come to see the bonuses involved.  It saves time, crops, men, and materiel.
>Why kill 50,000 when 500 will do?  Or 5?  If you are of a mind to dispose of
>these kin-slayers, well....let's do it quietly."
> 
>  She smiles at Drax, the glow slowly fading from her eyes.  "I have control
>over my Sight.  And magic is not the only power in this Shell."
>
>  Tavis looks sideways at the minotaur.  "What quest are you out on right
>now, anyways??"

"Please,"  says Karl.  "This was my personal battle, and I lost.  I won't have
other casualties- your casualties- on my overstrained conscience as well.  My
mistake was my overconfidence and my mistaken impression that I led a charmed
life.  All young adventurers, they all think that it can't ever happen to
them.  I thought that way.  Me, Littlefair there, Kayahel, even our friend
Thorr-Kan.  Each of us began our careers with that gleam in our eyes- you've
seen it- that says 'I will be the greatest in the land'.  And sometimes they
are right, and sometimes they end up mouldering in a ditch somewhere between
the Goblin Marches and the Nine Hells.  A brother of my friend, William of
Tell, runs around in the forest pursued by the goons of the local baron.  He
thinks he's immortal!  They all do!"

He slouches.  "I've seen too much to be a good drinking companion.  When I was
a boy up north in Vascondy we all looked up to the big, burly warrior types-
the ones that were in the King's Guard, or mercenaries, or adventurers.  They
must have been about thirty or so.  Two dozen winters younger than I am now.
And they had all the best stories... All I have are tragedies..."

ADMIN:  Karl's cranky ranting aside, I think that an attack on those guys 
might make for some interesting fiction.  Obviously Karl can't participate
but if some of you want to go for it then I'll be interested to read the
results.  I haven't fleshed out the identities of the villains or their hide-
out (other than the fact that it's in a country called Varande) so feel free
to just make up any story you want to.  That's how the Inn works:
collaborative fiction!

-- 
Dennis Brennan
djb6@midway.uchicago.edu