Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: andsol@screech.owlnet.rice.edu (Andrew J. Solberg)
Subject: Natter: [Low City]: Been Down So Long It Looks Like Up To Me
Message-ID: <1992Jun11.141158.17633@rice.edu>
Keywords: Creft, murder, Seer
Date: Thu, 11 Jun 1992 14:11:58 GMT

In the Low City, you don't survive long unless you have something going for
you.  Thieves had better be sneaky, Warriors deadly, and Wizards paranoid
as all hell.  Failing that, you had better be able to pay the right people,
and keep right on paying.  If you haven't got some kind of edge, your plans
really ought to be made about the short-term view.

Natter has two edges.  One, he's useless.  Two, he's crazy.

He also has a disadvantage.  He's always at the wrong place at the right time,
and he sees everything.  He never forgets a face.

In the Low City, this is DEFINITELY a negative attribute.  The real survivors
know how to forget they ever saw anything.

Natter is a street person.  He's not a thief, nor a dues-paying member of the
Beggar's Guild.  He has nothing to sell, or steal, and is too scrawny for 
most urban predator's tastes.  He makes his living by scrounging, and hiding,
and generally staying out of the way.  He has no friends, but that's no
surprise in the Low City.

Natter got his name because he mumbles under his breath every moment of his
waking hours.  There's one of Natter in every city, real and fictional: he's
the guy in the old army blanket, stalking down the street, mumbling curses,
threats, pleas, prayers.  Occasionally, some band of toughs will push him
around for fun, but Natter goes completely catatonic under stress.  It's no
fun beating up a limp, smelly noodle.

Today has been a fine day for Natter.  Just an hour ago, a fruit cart upended
only yards from him.  When the cart was reloaded, Natter got to pick up the
crushed melons off the street.  Now, if only the tobacconist will get rid of
some wilted pipeweed, Natter could be truly content.....

Yes, this has been a good week.  Not at all like last week.  Last week was
not a good one for street people -- no, sir.  The vampires were roaming
Natter's territory, and he barely found a hiding place in time.  Also, there
was some kind of shakedown in Creft's territory, so the whole area was just
crawling with irritable goons the whole week.  And then, of course, there
was the matter of Creft himself.....

Chalk another one up to Natter's terrible timing, once again.  There he was,
getting a drink out a rainbarrel, when two people come creeping down the
alley.  Natter hides quickly, and they don't notice him.  Instead, they 
approach what looks like a passed-out drunk behind a tavern.  The drunk
slowly gets to his feet as the two approach, then freezes still as a statue.
Natter stares in astonishment, for the man is clearly Creft the crimelord!

One of the two cowled men is holding up a nail and chanting some words.  The
other has a knife.  Natter knows what is about to happen, but he never has
enough common sense to run away or simply not look.  Poor Natter.

The man with the knife gets to work.  Ever clean a fish?

A few minutes, and they are done.  The wizard releases his spell, and the 
now-dead remains of Creft the Fence collapses into the arms of the knifeman.
Without a word, the wizard grasps the killer's arm and, with a loud POP!,
the murderers and victim disappear.

Natter gibbers in fear for a few moments.  He's seen a lot of brutality and
violence in the Low City, but such a callous snuff of a prominent criminal
figure -- definitely bad stuff.  Definitely, oh definitely.

Finally, Natter runs.

Now, of course, Natter has put that behind him.  Nobody saw him witness the
crime, so nobody will bug him.  Natter munches on a melon rind and 
contemplates his amazing rise in fortunes......
-- 
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!!!!