Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: andsol@arcadien.owlnet.rice.edu (Andrew J. Solberg) Subject: Sgt. Kron [_Broadmarch_] Siege IV Message-ID: <1992May28.192628.27944@rice.edu> Keywords: slavers, Kron, Karl, Dougl, Meshtak, Captain Date: Thu, 28 May 1992 19:26:28 GMT Meshtak, still slightly green about the gills from his seasickness, hefts the anchor. "This is pretty light," he says. "I bet I could snag the ship." As the ships pull alongside one another, Meshtak heaves! His throw falls short and splashes into the water. Growling, the huge cat-man reels in the chain and prepares a second throw. "Got my range this time," he snarls, and heaves the heavy hook skyward...... ******************************************************************* William and his uncle huddle under the tarp of a rowboat with Dougl, their recent rescuee. They have been playing a running game, hiding for a time until pursuit becomes too hot, then moving to a new position. However, the _Broadmarch_ is not large enough for this to continue indefinitely. On the deck, the trio hears loud footsteps! They clomp across the boards, getting ever louder, and then stop. The fugitives wait a full ten seconds. Nothing happens. They breathe a collective sigh of relief.... and the tarp is whisked off the boat! Squinting into the light, they see a half-dozen slavers, armed with spears and gaff-hooks, leering down at them! "Alright, my pretties," sneers their leader, "Now you just take it easy...." He reaches down for them....... And chokes! His face turns black, and he convulses! He looks down at his chest and notices the thick, black iron prong protruding from where no such object should be. The last thought of his vile existence is, "Now how did that anchor get there?" The dead slaver is jerked off his feet as the slack in the chain is taken up. He is dragged to edge of the _Broadmarch_, where the hook on the anchor catches the edge of the deck and holds fast. Uncognizant that their leader is dead, the remaining slavers try desperately to remove the anchor from the wood, but it is now fixed and no mortal force will remove it. Meanwhile, the trio of runaways make good another escape...... ******************************************************************** Meshtak tugs the chain and grunts in satisfaction. "Well, it's hooked on something, alright," he says. "It should be pretty secure. Now I'm off -- fight well!" With that, the cat-man vaults the railing and crosses to the enemey ship. Kron directs the seamen of the *Morning Breeze* to winch in the anchor, drawing the ships together. A hail of missile fire wings across the gap, but the sailors keep their heads down. Kron prepares to jump across with the handful of doughty tars who volunteered to fight. Outwardly he appears calm, but in his stomach he feels the same dead, cold feeling he always has when he knows that soon he must kill or be killed. For an instant, he is thirty years younger, a raw recruit in the armies of Generica, preparing to take point into the killing fields of the marsh lizardmen. But no -- Kron refuses to sink into his memories, and retains a firm grip on the present. The railing of the _Broadmarch_ creeps closer: Ten feet, Five feet, two... the boats bump gently together. Kron draws his swords and, point extended, shouts, "CHARGE!!" Kron and the seamen boil across the railing into the waiting arms of the slavers. The slave masters are well versed in the procedures of ship-to-ship assault and counter-assault. The slavers are postions in two ranks along the railing, using long spears as a fence to detain boarders; meanwhile, a rank of crossbowmen send missile after missile into the invaders. Kron, too, knows the ways of assault and is prepared. The first wave of seamen bear a large net, used by the *Morning Breeze* for fishing, and they drape it over the spearmen as they come over the side. The second rank is armed with boat- hooks; they use these tools to pin the spearmen in their snare. The tactic is effective, for though a few of the first rank of netters are wounded in the initial charge, Kron and a handful of the best fighters are able to easily cross the spear line and attack the unarmored archers. Seeing the hopelessness of their position, the crossbowmen drop their weapons and run in a panic. "Secure these captives!" orders Kron, indicating the snared slavers, and makes for the stern of the ship. Did he not see Karl fly through the air to this very position? He must find his friend; together they must find where the slavers are keeping poor Dougl...... -- Andrew Solberg |"Moving faster than a speeding bullet isn't andsol@owlnet.rice.edu | much use if you and it are headed straight Phone:713-529-8627 | for each other." John Brunner bridge-sleep-eat-sex-bridge-sleep-eat-sex-bridge-sleep-I'M STUCK!!!!