From: rhr9081@hertz.njit.edu (Ray Rich)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [V] Valgar makes it to the Inn
Message-ID: <1992Jul13.160059.27011@njitgw.njit.edu>
Date: 13 Jul 92 16:00:59 GMT


	The night seemed like it would never end.  In the distance, Valgar
could hear shouting voices and the sounds of battle.  Eventually, order was
restored and he settled into an uneasy sleep.  He moved about several times
during the restless night, never sleeping more than a single hour in the
same spot, lest he be discovered by the watch or less lawful types.
	As the first rays of dawn cleared the horizon, the common folk of
Generica began to go about their business, the riots from the previous night
behind them.  Valgar arose and headed eastward down what a signpost proclaimed
to be Dragon's Lane.
	Soon he came to a major intersection where he beheld a curious sight.
A patch of the cobblestones here were composed of polished steel.  It was 
quite a beautiful sight, the glittering metal reflecting the light of early
morn.  Members of the watch were politely but authoritatively forcing a   
number of beggars away from the plaza.  It was apparently a favored sleeping
spot for the city's less affluent citizens.
	One of the guards ushered Valgar through the plaza with a "Move along,"
but suddenly, he stopped and clutched Valgar's shoulder.  He looked at Valgar
curiously, and there was a hint of recognition.  Valgar tensed.  The word was
already about, he was a wanted man and now he had been caught.  It was all
over.
	The guard shook his head.  "All right," he said, "get going.  All of
you."  Valgar silently thanked the man for his uncertainty.
	Moving on, he stopped in front of a rather noisy structure.  A sign
declared it the "Dragon's Inn."  The smell of breakfast being cooked wafted
to his nostrils.  It almost made him long for the slave ship, where he was
certain the slaves were being fed.  Freedom was worth any price, he concluded.
Even a little hunger.  Looking at the tattered rags that passed for his
clothing, Valgar frowned in disgust and entered the inn.
	The first thing to alarm him was the diversity present in the inn.  It
seemed as if every race, both familiar and unknown to him, had sent a delegate
here.  Many huddled around tables in large groups and spoke of great deeds 
done or yet to be accomplished.  Minstrels plucked out tranquil tunes on
various instruments.
	As he looked about, he spotted what appeared to be a note board of
sorts.  A few messages were pinned to it, including a weathered and all
but indecipherable one about a missing dragon.  Struck by both inspiration
and need, Valgar approached the innkeeper.
	The innkeeper was a large burly man, who looked to have been in more
than a few battles in his day.  "What can I do for you," he said warmly.
Though he looked Valgar over, he didn't seem to be disgusted by the man's
dress or unwashed stench.
	"I would like to post a note, sir," Valgar responded.
	The innkeeper handed over a small piece of parchment, a quill, and
some ink.  Valgar proceeded to write.

	"LOOKING FOR WORK.  WILLING TO DO HARD LABOR FOR LOW PAY.
	 HAVE FIGHTING EXPERIENCE AND FAMILIAR WITH MANY TECHNIQUES.
	 CAPABLE OF MANNING A SAILING VESSEL WITH LITTLE DIFFICULTY.
	 NEED JOB AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.
		CONTACT VALGAR IN THE 3RD CORNER TO THE RIGHT."

	He was impressed that his literary talents hadn't faded with his
years of slavery.  With a hopeful grin, he settled down at the small table
in the third corner to the right.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, aboard the S.S. Albatross....

	Deimos brooded among the slaves.  Their morale had been broken 
with the deaths of a few mutineers and the reported demise of the escaped
Valgar.  Deimos knew the truth, however.  Valgar had taken advantage of
the city's chaotic state and fled without a trace.  Inquiries made by the
crew proved fruitless, as the citizens of Generica had their own problems.
	Deimos quietly opened the hatch and looked out on the deck.  The
crew were carefully unloading the sacks of white crystal that were
deviously mislabelled sugar.  He smiled with delight.  The human's escape
was rendered meaningless by his infallable plan.  The city of Generica
would be brought down.  If Valgar was within, then he would die too.


ADMIN:  Anyone not involved in a thread or still looking for people to join
	a thread, please contact me.  Deimos' plot could be further developed
	or quickly wrapped up as needed.

							Ray
						rhr9081@hertz.njit.edu