From: rhr9081@hertz.njit.edu (Ray Rich) Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: Re: [DQ] Flights of Fashion Message-ID: <1992Jul27.162812.6768@njitgw.njit.edu> Date: 27 Jul 92 16:28:12 GMT In article <1992Jul23.074527.9277@intelhf.hf.intel.com> hutch@hutch.intel.com writes: > >With the annoying net-lags lately, I thought I'd post something >minor having to do with preparations for departure. > >TIME: The morning after the night before. Riddles have been pronounced. >CHARACTERS: 'Raelf, Valgar, Lancos, Dragon Questors and Inn Patrons >PLACE: Dragon's Inn >EVENT: fashioning fashions and taking the air > [Riddle Stuff Deleted to Save Space] > >Well, things to do. Lancos had brought supplies as requested. > >'Raelf went over to the table and sat down, placing the heavily modified >snowboard against the wall behind him. He traced the second rune on his >bandolier, whispering <> and flipped >open the flap that appeared. He withdrew a flat case, half as big as a >travelling spell book, flipped it open <> and while the faerie fire >began glowing in the air above it, he rummaged through the pocket for a >minute, before pulling out a small glittering hexagonal stick. > >"HA! Found her." He ignored the questioning murmurs of the others at >the table. He pushed the stick into a slot in the flat box, and runes >of light began swirling in the faerie fire glow above the case. ><> he said, and the runes blurred >and shifted into columns. "This one good maybe, <>" > >A transparent image replaced the runes. It appeared to be a flat drawing >of a person wearing some kind of complicated-looking garment. 'Raelf slid >a finger along the box, and the picture flickered and was replaced, very >quickly, with other pictures. He stopped, suddenly, on a man wearing a >strange cape made with a hole in the middle, and a hood. The cape had >a simple plaid pattern. "Aha. Poncho. Will work. Clint Eastwood eat >yer heart out, heh heh." > >'Raelf touched a rune on the box and the picture became more abstract, >showing only the poncho, in abstract. "Lancos, you got cloth bolt?" he >asked, and the red-haired man nodded and reached into the pile on the >next table. He pulled out a heavy roll of grayish-brown cloth, a thick >denim or maybe light canvas. > >"Right here. What did you plan to do with it?" > >"Watch." 'Raelf folded the bolt, measuring an amount, muttering in >distaste when he found a bug in the weave, and finally SNIKT cutting the >bolt off - with a suddenly sharp metallic fingernail. "This is being >low power to do, but is also complicated to see in head," he commented >to nobody in particular. Kadrys grinned sharply. "Color of white not >to be found?" 'Raelf asked, and Lancos shook his head in negation. > >The piece was laid flat over a hastily-cleared section of an adjacent >table. SNIKT - SNIKT, SLICE, SNIKT-RIP dammit SNIKT SNAKT. The piece, >now comprising several smaller pieces, was carefully laid out, some >edges touching and rolled in other places. 'Raelf touched the cloth, >staring intently at the pattern in the air above the box. He closed his >eyes and spoke quietly. > >Kadrys recognized a cantrip construction in Kutuk, in Weaver dialect. >--::One be One and Weave as Weft Warp to Woof and Seam be CLEFT::-- >there was a flash of light along the edges and rolls. 'Raelf shook the >cloth, now one piece joined into something like the glowing image. >'Raelf pulled it on over his head, and grimaced, looking around. >Nothing reflective. <> he muttered at the >box, and his image, in miniature, appeared superimposed over the runes >and diagrams in the glow. The image looked as uncomfortable as 'Raelf. > >"Fixing this now," 'Raelf grumbled, and closed his eyes. The miniature >image started flickering, replaced momentarily by outlines of fire, then >clouds, then pebbles washed by waves. Then it vanished. Lancos looked >up from the image, and saw that the stiff cloth had changed, becoming >softer-appearing, a jet black color, with white splotches like marble or >granite. Runes ran along the seam of the hood in shifting colors. > >A second search through the images produced a sort of loose, flowing >trousers, tight at the ankles, with an elastic waist, also restructured >to be jet black, but this time with runes scattered randomly across the >fabric, shifting colors in unison with the poncho. 'Raelf folded them >and somehow fit them into the pocket on his bandolier. > >"Hey, Valgar, you want maybe some new duds?" he asked, flipping the >catalog images again. Valgar looked up from his second bowl of porridge >that morning. (Damn straight I'll get out of these wretched slave rags.) >"I'd be more than happy to let you outfit me," Valgar said courteously. > >"Here to look at what you want." 'Raelf indicated the images above >the box. The former galley slave looked on with fascination. This was >a very different way to use illusion magic, not to enslave or to entrap >or even entertain, but to ... advertise?? He looked closer. One of the >images caught his fancy and he pointed to it. > >"Hey, I like this. What is it?" > >"Uh, yeah. It supposed to has not select that one." 'Raelf carefully >suppressed a snicker. It was not a catalog. Well, maybe. Too bad it >wasn't possible to erase just one part of a crystal. Valgar persisted. > >"See, it looks very practical, you could hide a lot of weapons in there. > Besides, I like the style. Kind of decadent-elvish." > >'Raelf grinned, and flipped the Thrasher Magazine image to larger scale. >After a few minutes, Valgar had chosen a combination that wasn't too >impossible. Dark blue or grey acid-wash color patterns, fake Levi's >and jeans-jacket, a long sleeved shirt made somewhat softer by a careful >transformation, and a leather vest, boots, and forearm-guards modified >from an extra leather saddlebag. And lots of places to hide weapons. > >[[OK, Ray, you get to describe it in detail if you feel the need to > show off all the hidden pockets and concealed weapons. Also any > decorations and suchlike.]] > Valgar was almost ecstatic when he finished changing. The material was soft yet durable. The various pieces of attire held numerous pockets. "Look," Valgar said turning one inside-out, "It has it's own pouches, sewn right in!" A red and white patch decorated the left shoulder of the denim jacket. "Slayer," he read aloud. "I guess I can live with that." There was something about the outfit that made Valgar feel confident, almost rebellious. He felt the old, familiar sensations. Soon it would be time to go to work once more. >It was late morning when they were finished. SunStorm and Lancos had gone >off to inquire of the guards what they could about disappearing dragons >and the mob riot. They were not due back until later that day, with the >group due to depart the next morning, if the omens were right. > >'Raelf sat at the table, twitching. Talking was fine but this inactivity! >He'd been here for almost three days now, and hadn't gotten in a workout >or even a decent sparring session. He finally gave up trying to concentrate >on the riddle discussions and the other conversations. > >"I am hate this. Kadrys, Val, is not good for I sit still in dark bar >all day. Is nice day out. I go get idea of what this burg looking like. >Back by dark. If no, send note to ...sage." > Valgar wanted to join 'Raelf very badly, but was certain that doing so would prove unwise. Instead, he sat there staring into his empty bowl. "How long will I enjoy the company of such fine allies?" he wondered, "Before it starts again. How long before prophecy forces me onward toward my doom- laden destiny?" He dismissed these depressing thoughts and decided it was better to enjoy the present than dwell in the past or fear the future. Raymond H. Rich aka Valgar