Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: gusar@uniwa.uwa.edu.au (Sean A Reith)
Subject: Tvarne: [Inn, near fire] Reactions
Message-ID: <1992Jun2.113002.5992@uniwa.uwa.edu.au>
Keywords: Tvarne, Kron, Panarchus, Maleiu
Date: Tue, 2 Jun 1992 11:30:02 GMT

The Lieutenant replaces the poker and sits heavily down next to Tvarne.  He
lifts his nose and gets a good sniff of the soup's aroma.  "The suspect,"
he announces as if he were giving the time of day, "had been disembowelled.
The killer had gone to the trouble, for some reason, to remove his liver,
likely prior to actual death.  Mmmmmm..... enjoy your soup."  He gets up
and moves over to the bar.

Out loud, again, for all to hear: "Looks like the Fence didn't go without 
some kind of fight, though.  Seems he ripped something off the neck of his
attacker and kept it hidden in the palm of this hand through his torture
and demise.  Clever bastard.  Anyways, it was a locket, see, a locket on
a little silver chain.  A locket with initials on the back.  Want to guess
at the initials?  Hmmm?  'T. E. Kron', that's what.  Sound familiar?"

Placing the mug on the ground near the chair, Tvarne again addresses the
Lieutenant.  "Looks?  Your choice of words in unfortunate, to those
ignorant of the Sergeants obvious guilt, they could be interpreted as
supposition.  But, forgive my interruption, you obviously haven't finished
your presentation of the facts, such as the evidence that the crime lord,
or his murderer, didn't steal the item (as you obviously have proof
beyond doubt that it was the Sergeant's).  Please, continue."

A tall strongly muscled black man wearing only a loincloth enters and
sits near the fire.  Tvarne studies the scar around the man's neck, and
then stands and wanders to the bar, ordering a meal, to be delivered to
the man.  Collecting his cloak from the rack before returning to his
chair, he offers it to the man in a low voice.  "Here, warm thyself, and
cover that accursed mark."

Meanwhile, Panarchus has wandered over to confront the Quartermaster,
asking if Karl knows Kron's whereabouts.  Karl eyes the lieutenant back
just as coldly without rising from his seat.  "No."

Panarchus raises his eyebrows and stands up as if he had been slapped, and
Karl continues.  "I was present at your alleged 'murder.'  Kron did no
such thing.  And I will not aid your farcical investigation."

Panarchus glares and fumes.  "You, old man, are making a very poor career
decision..."

At that moment Kron reappears at the inn, in civilian attire.  He notes
the unusually high concentration of guardsmen, and the strained
atmosphere and scratches his head.  "Would somebody please tell me what's
going on?...."

Tvarne replies, "The lieutenant here was just about to reveal his evidence 
that you are guilty of the murder of a man by the name of Creft.  Well,
lieutenant?  And what of the Quartermaster's claim?  Do you intend to
idly slander his word too?"

A short, tense silence ensues, and outside the Inn, those near the door hear
what seems to be the sound of a giant bucket being upended, accompanied by a
wet thud.  Some water makes its way under the door and then the door opens.
Supported as if by an almost invisible person, an extremely wet and disheveled
figure makes its way into the Inn.  Wet white hair hanging over a thin white
face, with clothes as wet as if he had been swimming in the sea, he is
half-dragged, half-carried towards the fire.

Finding a spare chair near the roaring hearth the figure slumps into a chair
and waves his hand.  The smokey apparation that accompanied him into the Inn
seems to waver and then dissipate.  The figure then sighs deeply and, resting
his head against the back of the chair, says "did anyone get my cloak off
the Morning Breeze?"

[ADMIN: Does anyone recognise ...sage??]
-- 
Tvarne Nillun
--
aka Sean A Reith (gusar@uniwa.uwa.edu.au)