Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: aaron@space.ualberta.ca (Alfvaen) Subject: Maleiu: From the South Gate to the Inn Message-ID: <1992Jun1.174627.21979@kakwa.ucs.ualberta.ca> Date: Mon, 1 Jun 1992 17:46:27 GMT Maleiu stands before the south gate of the city. It looks like it's been closed and disused for many years, but his sharp eyes pick out a few places where one could probably squeeze through. He pads softly closer to the gate, and is about to enter one of the holes when suddenly the moon emerges from the clouds it had been hiding behind all night and he sees a glint of metal. He freezes in place, wishing he had stopped to carve himself a spear or at least a staff. He stands motionless, hardly breathing, waiting for the owner of the knife to show him or herself. His patience is rewarded. The knife draws back slightly and a head pokes out. Maleiu moves with lightning quickness and throws his arm around the figure's neck. It tries to scream, but it can only gasp for breath. "Are there others guarding this gate?" Maleiu hisses. "Blink once for yes, twice for no." Hands claw at his arm, the knife apparently forgotten. Maleiu holds the figure's eyes, and repeats his question. Finally the motion stills, and he blinks twice. Maleiu releases the pressure slightly. "If you speak above a whisper, I'll break your neck. Now first--what is your name, what are you doing here, and what is this city?" "My name is Nirvan, the city is Generica, and I'm just trying to make a few silvers! Please!" As Nirvan's voice rises, Maleiu squeezes his neck again for a few seconds and then releases the pressure. "Now you're going to come out of this opening, and I'm going to go through. If there's anyone on the other side, you'll die just after they do. Is that clear?" Nirvan nodded convulsively. Maleiu pulled him out and set him down gently on the stones of the worn road. Then he slipped through the opening in the gate. He froze and listened, just inside. He could hear noises, the noises of a city slum. But no-one lurking nearby ready to pounce. He whispered back through the crack, "Alright, you can come back now." He stooped to pick up Nirvan's dropped knife. "Now, you're going to take me to a good inn. I have no money with me right now, but when I do, I will see that you get some, if you help me now." He was getting tired of getting his way with threats. It made him feel slimy and dishonored. What would Mistletoe think if she'd seen him just now? Or Lyono? But Nirvan was sufficiently cowed. Maleiu put a firm grip on his left arm, but no more was necessary. They followed the street northward. He could hear curious rustlings from either side, but his size and stature would make them wary. And who knows, maybe Nirvan is a respected member of this community. He snorted to himself at the thought. And I'm the Lord of Rameshan. Finally they emerged into a lighted intersection. He got a good look at his escort for the first time. Nirvan was a human, but small, about 5' tall, and thin, but wiry. He had unkempt hair that looked like it would be brown if properly washed. He had a sneer embedded on his face, and he couldn't be more than 20 years old. Nirvan squirmed under his grip and pointed to a building on the corner. A sign above it had a picture of a dragon and writing in the local script. "There it is, the Dragon's Inn," he said. "Best place in town. Can I go now?" His voice was almost whining. "Where can I get in touch with you, to repay you?" Maleiu asked. He owed a debt, if this place was what Nirvan claimed. Nirvan squirmed some more, then subsided. Finally, resignedly, he said, "Just ask for me, anywhere in Low City. Someone will know where I am." Maleiu released his arms and Nirvan disappeared into the shadows of what must be Low City. He could feel eyes on him from that sector, but as he walked across the intersection he felt them fade. He stood before the door of the inn for a full minute. He hoped the innkeeper would take payment in service, for the slavers hadn't left him with much money. He pushed the door open and entered the inn. ADMIN: Anyone else feel free to use Nirvan if they want. He's the quintessential Low Town survivor. He's got few enemies, because he makes himself useful to everybody. He probably wouldn't be caught dead talking to the Guards, because then he'd be found where Creft's body was, except in more pieces. Or maybe the Rameshanders would get him. But he just might have seen who murdered Creft, or at least who dumped the body... -- ---Alfvaen(a.k.a. Aaron V. Humphrey) Canadian Network For Space Research, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada Her hair spilled out like rootbeer... Current Album--David Sylvian:Gone To Earth