Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: aaron@space.ualberta.ca (Aaron Humphrey)
Subject: Alfvaen[Cor Caroli Lane]: Get a Job!
Message-ID: <1992Aug10.011553.21256@kakwa.ucs.ualberta.ca>
Date: Mon, 10 Aug 1992 01:15:53 GMT

After much searching, Alfvaen managed to find 15 Cor Caroli Lane.  So far, so
good.  Now where's this 15 A-Gamma place?

<Perhaps down that alley there,> Lassiviren volunteered.

Alfvaen peered down the alley.  There was an "A" above a door at the end.
<Thanks a lot, dude.>

<The name is Lassiviren, halfbreed,> the dark elf said in a tired mind-voice.

<Yeah, and the name is Alfvaen, darkmeat.  Got that?>

<Right.  Alfvaen.  How about Alf?>

<No.  Never Alf.  Vaen, perhaps.  My mom used to call me that.>

<Fine, you can call me Neri if you want.>

<Neri?  Why?>

There followed a long silence, then, <My sister and I used to use each other's
names backwards, and she shortened Nerivissal to Neri.>

<What happened to her?>

<She got killed by an Illithid.  Are you doing down that alley, or are you
going to stand on Cor Caroli Lane all day like an Unforgotten Hero?>

Alfvaen sighed and walked down the alley.  Just beside the door marked "A",
there was a small set of stairs up to another door, which was marked "15
A-Gamma."  At last, he thought.  He peered, but there was no trace of a sign.
They don't advertise very well, do they? he thought to himself.  If I was
running this business, I'd put up some directions and a sign, or at least
bribe some neighbours to lead people here.  He knocked on the door.

There was no answer, so he knocked again, louder this time.  There was a
scuffling sound somewhere behind the door, and then a set of heavy footsteps.
The large black man Alfvaen had seen in the Dragon's Inn opened the door.
"Yes?" he said.

"Is this Moriarty Investigations?" he asked, suddenly wondering if somebody had
come up with a bizarre and idiosyncratic way of luring adventurers to their
deaths.

The black man nodded.  "Do you need our help?"  His Common was rather stilted
and heavily accented, and Alfvaen marked down change No. 2--get someone who
speaks Common, preferably an attractive female one, to answer the door.  I've
never run a business before, he thought, but I'd be doing better than this guy,
that's for sure.

"Actually, I think you need my help," Alfvaen said, smiling pleasantly.  They
certainly did, even more than he thought they had just from looking at the ad.

The black man looked totally nonplussed.  Finally he said, "I think you'd
better talk to Moriarty.  He's upstairs."  He turned around and went upstairs,
obviously expecting Alfvaen to follow.  No. 3, he thought, never trust any of
your customers, or especially random visitors, enough to turn your back to
them.  He followed up the stairs, noticing several unpleasant creaks.  This
list is getting too long, he thought.  These people really need help.

Moriarty proved to be a lanky man dressed in unfashionable clothes.  "May I
help you?" he said, throwing a quick dirty look at the black man.

"In a way--but I can certainly help you.  With your business, I mean."

Moriarty raised his eyebrows.  "Oh, really?  I'm all ears."  He didn't offer
Alfvaen a seat, since the only one in the room was the one behind his desk.

Alfvaen said, "I saw your ad in the Dragon's Inn, and I thought I would come to
offer my services."

"Really?  What makes you think that--"

"And then I came and looked at your operation here, just what I've seen so far,
and I start feeling sorry for you.  I mean, trying to start a business with no
idea how such things work.  Cutting corners wherever you can, or wherever you
think you can.  And now I know that you really >need< my help here."

Moriarty had lost his casual air.  "Oh, really?  What >exactly< do you think
we're doing wrong?"

Alfvaen let loose with the catalog he'd amassed on the way to the office.  By
the second suggestion, Moriarty was listening attentively, and had started
scribbling things down on a scrap piece of parchment.  Then he started on a few
more things that had occurred to him in the office.  "This place looks like a
mage's lair.  Nondescript on the outside, and probably lots of hidden rooms and
entrances and such on the inside."  He indicated a couple of likely-looking
places for secret doors, and was rewarded by a surprised look on Moriarty's
face.  "If you're going into business specifically as a mage, you want to keep
the hidden stuff, but put more out here.  It doesn't need to >do< anything, but
it has to look good.  Most people to come in here will probably know next to
nothing about magic, so it won't take much to dazzle them."  He stopped for
breath.  "So?"

Moriarty thought for a second, then held out his hand.  "Welcome to the firm.
What did you say your name was again?"

Alfvaen ignored the proffered hand.  "Don't you want to hear my other
qualifications?  I've been a guildless thief for ten years now, on and off.
I'm a qualified locksmith, and lockpicker as well.  I use some magic, but
only to supplement those abilities.  I'm not a great fighter, and I try to
avoid it whenever possible.  And I have a brain, and an observant nature, as
you have already noticed."  He thought about Lassiviren and the amulet, but
thought, Nah, I need >some< secrets.  "I also have a few tricks that I don't
want to reveal at this time, and I have no ties in this dimension, and no real
wish to return home just now.  Satisfied?"

Moriarty's hand remained out.  "Welcome to the firm.  What did you say your
name was again?  I'd figured out the mage part..."

Alfvaen shook Moriarty's hand.  "My name's Alfvaen--you can call me Vaen for
short, and don't >ever< call me Alf.  Who's that black guy over there?"

"Queriche.  He's a friend--lots of muscle, not as much..." he tapped his head.
"Still, we need >some< muscle, and he sure looks impressive, no?  Do you have
a place to stay?  If not, I have some spare rooms down there, and we can
probably gouge Ardrey for some more used stuff, if you're not picky."

Alfvaen shook his head.  "Whatever.  Let's get started on this place, shall
we?"

--
---Alfvaen(a.k.a. Aaron V. Humphrey, Page of Newts)
Canadian Network For Space Research, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada
"There's too many clues in this room."  Gordon Lightfoot
Current Album--Wall of Voodoo:Happy Planet
Current Read--K.W. Jeter:Infernal Devices