Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: ismm@acad3.alaska.edu Subject: Corwin, Where are you? Message-ID: <1992Jun13.210050.1@acad3.alaska.edu> Date: Sun, 14 Jun 1992 05:00:50 GMT Quietly, as a southwind she steps in looking around her new surroundings. After blinking several times those few who have noticed her entrance can sense indeed she is looking for someone in particular. A sigh escapes her well shaped, pouting lips and a little shake of her head makes her long dark treses shimmer in the lamplight. Approaching the long bar she summons the barman to her. He sees her, and as he approaches her assese this unknown dark haird beauty. Standing just slightly below his shoulder, she has greenish brown eyes which spark of a passion unspoken, her hair is worn in an unusual manner. There appear to be two braids on either side. These strands, dark as the rest of her mane however, have golden highlights, framing her face which could be considered neither frail nor bold. She pulls the hood from the black cloak she has around her. Its ornate silver buttons flashing in the light. Obviously the cloak masculine in style. She reaches down and unfastens four of the buttons to reveal her upper body. The bar man breathes in, almost in a gasp, as here in front of him in an evening dress of a lady of wealth are the most astounding example of womanhood. "I am looking for someone who I am told frequents your establishment.", she spoke not delicately but with purpose. "He discovered me one day when I was left inadvertedly behind by my husband and his party during a fox hunt. My horse had thrown me due to a fright, and my husband not wanting to dare miss a minute of his precious hunt went on shouting over his shoulder he would send a manservant to fetch me. When this tall ruggedly handsome man dressed in black and silver arrived and assisted me, and seeing me back to the Broadmoor House I assumed he was the manservant my husband sent. He laid a fire in the small library, poured two sherries and came back, removed my right riding boot and massaged my aching ankle twisted from my tumble. He came to sit upon the dark green velvet settee with me and talk of his home faraway and very different from my upbringing. His voice soothed my fear, anger and humiliation and I settled alongside of him with my head on his massive chest. When I awoke, he was gone, leaving behind a note." She pulls this note from the pocket of her cloak. It is black paper and the writing is silvery. "My name is Corwin, dearest lady. It gave me great pleasure to meet you. I only wish it had been under better circumstances. I can tell many things about you which you left unsaid... Your spouse did not send me to your rescue and in my eyes never deserved the likes of you in the first place. If ever you find yourself in distress again, don my cloak and find your way to the ~Dragon's Inn~ and ask for me. I could not help but notice the bruises on you, my fair lady, and in my estimation they have no place on someone like you, I will not ask you how those ghasty marks came to be, just call on me and I will make sure they will never appear again on your lovely skin." "My name is Arwen, and I ask you sir, please, I need to speak to Corwin now." And with that she broke into pitiful sobs that wracked her body. Her cloak slipped to the floor. It was then the barman saw the buggy whip marks on the lady's shoulders and back. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Rebelheart - "Too old for some things... Too young to know which things. fsmlm2@acad3.alaska.edu =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=