Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: andsol@arcadien.owlnet.rice.edu (Andrew J. Solberg) Subject: Kron: [Low City]: You Have Been VERY Bad Message-ID: <1992Jun20.223316.5095@rice.edu> Keywords: Kron, Creft, Wasters, murder, Natter Date: Sat, 20 Jun 1992 22:33:16 GMT Kron stares in numb disbelief as the three Wasters demand that he be handed over to them. He still squats on the ground with Natter in his arms. Natter is coughing up his lifeblood just about now. A good deal of it has gotten on Kron's cuirass. He fumbles with Natter's wound and attempts to staunch the bleeding, but a child of three could tell you that the bum is dead as a doornail -- he just hasn't stopped moving yet. The world weighs very heavily on the ex-Watchman as he sees the light in Natter's eyes fade to black. Kron stares at the still body for about one millisecond. He can't believe his life for the last few weeks. Suddenly trouble and violence is following him around like a pervert in a shopping mall. Something snaps inside him, and he stands up, letting Natter's body fall to the ground. "You bastards. You sick bastards," he hisses. "You didn't have to do that. I don't know what you want from me, but whatever it is, you did NOT have to do that." As he draws his sword, his eyes dilate, and he enters another mind set..... ************************************************************************** In twenty years of police work, it has only happened once before. Kron is twenty-five and one of the youngest Watch sergeants ever. He has finally caught up with the Roper's Gallery murderer, who within nine months slew expectant mothers at a rate of one every eleven days. He breaks into the killer's abbattoir and finds him hard at work at his workbench. The killer is a taxidermist by trade. Try and guess what he is doing. Kron looks at the killer, who smiles and holds up his hands, waiting to be shackled and brought to prison. He's an influential citizen, and who knows? With the right cash in a few places, he might just walk out of jail. Why make a big fuss? Suddenly, Kron is not looking at a human serial killer. He is instead back in the Southern Marshes, and he is walking #2-position again. He has not heard from Dexter, the point man, in over two minutes. He parts a stand of tall reeds, and there is Dex, surrounded by a squad of lizardmen. They are holding his head underwater and stabbing him with spears. Kron gives a bloodcurdling cry, and leaps berserkly into the fray.... The coroner's report later showed that it was impossible to separate the dead man's remains from those of his victims. No bone piece larger than the size of a poker chip was ever found. There is a reason why Kron never got promoted. **************************************************************************** It happens again. Kron's back in the swamp. This time they are surrounded, probably by the damned Thssk-hss tribe again. They have been stirring up all kinds of trouble in this region, and Gorgon Squad has been sent in to check things out. They get caught short in the midst of the Midgewater River's dry bed, and Surprise! the forkers got longbows this time! Half the squad goes down in seconds. The remnants realize that they have to break the loop now or die where they stand. They draw weapons and charge, shouting a battle cry to the heavens.... Twenty-five years later, Kron replays his earlier actions. With a reddish gleam in his eyes and a growl in his throat, Kron springs at the Wasters, shouting, "FOR THE GLORY OF G E N E R I C A ! ! ! ! ! ! " -- 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!!!!