Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: andsol@arcadien.owlnet.rice.edu (Andrew J. Solberg) Subject: Kron: [Low City]: I Needed Some Boots Anyway Message-ID: <1992Jun25.180729.2142@rice.edu> Keywords: Kron, Wasters, Cheyenne Date: Thu, 25 Jun 1992 18:07:29 GMT Kron advances on Slythe, who picks himself up quickly. He has only one sword now, but he's still ready for a fight. The two close distance. Slythe is employing his springy arms in a novel fashion. He jabs out, then springs his arm in again before Kron can do that sword-smashing trick again. Meanwhile, the other arm waves about in Kron's face and prevents him from getting a good shot in. Kron circles about looking for an opening. Finally, Slythe makes a mistake. He lingers a little too long on his stabbing motion; Kron grabs the arm and hitches a ride. The arm reflexively snaps back in, carrying Kron close to the body. He allows the momentum to thrust his sword straight at Slythe's chest. Slythe twists, but the short blade creases him across the abdomen. Kron rolls out as Slythe gasps, clutches the wound. "Give up, murderer," growls Kron. "We've got a few questions for you." Slythe's eyes narrow, then open wide at something behind Kron. Kron laughs: "Oh, no you don't. There's no way you are going to fool an old hand with a silly trick like that. Now just throw down the sword and...." He is rudely interrupted by the feeling of jaws closing about his ankle.... YIPE! Kron instinctively jumps in the air, coming down on a pile of barrels. Slythe's stretchy arms grasp the roof of Ratty's, and he pulls himself to safety to make his getaway. Kron looks down at the street to see what on earth attacked him. T-crocs! Kron recognizes the glaring reptilian eyes of the huge crocodilians. Ages ago, crocodiles made their way into the sewers of Generica. Most died off quickly, but a few adapted to life there and made the underground their home. Now, the Tunnel Crocodiles, or T-crocs for short, are a menace to Generican society. But only at night, and in hiding! Not in the open, as these beasties are! Kron counts at least half a dozen prowling the pile of casks upon which Kron stands, and more crawling from nearby gratings. Something must be forcing them to the surface! Kron's eyes survey the situation. The battle has expanded. Various of his companions are engaged with Wasters and a pack of Orc-dogs. The T-crocs are menacing friend and foe alike. And is that the sound of a mob nearby? They certainly are getting around today! Kron spots Scorpion and sees the whistle hanging from his neck. He puts two and two together -- Scorpion must have some kind of magic that summons and controls predators of the Low City area. Kron must get hold of that whistle! And soon, he thinks, as a T-croc raises its head to within a foot of Kron's shins...... ADMIN: T-crocs and Orc-dogs and Thrugg! OH MY!! :^) -- 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!!!!