From: albert@chain.ssctr.bcm.tmc.edu (Rick Jones)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [KQ] Marcel [Warehouse] Out of the Frying Pan....
Message-ID: <14008@gazette.bcm.tmc.edu>
Date: 11 Aug 1992 22:32:17 GMT


        KER-CHUNK!!!
        [-walls.]
        Marcel whirled to face the stone wall seperating him from his
companions.  <<Activate EM-Scanner.>>  From Marcel's perspective, the
wall seemed to melt away, and red hued humanoids engaged large wolf-like
creatures.
        /Thank you for you lovely idea, Rabbi./
        [Hey, you're the hero, not me.  BTW, the wall looks too solid to hack
through.]
        /But what about the others?/
        [They can take care of themselves.]
        Marcel stared at the wall, as if his gaze could somehow melt it.
        /I hate this.  I want to do something./
        [We could go on and hope to catch up with them later.  This was
originally the best way.]
        /I suppose./  Marcel trudged down the corridor, looking over his
shoulder.
        "Right," he said to nobody in particular.  He took a deep breath,
and kicked open the door.  A spear shot out, striking Marcel in the
chest.  His armor prevented it from penetrating, but the impact knocked him
off his feet.
        [Obviously, this is some new definition of 'safe' I'm not familiar
with.]
        /That smarts./  Marcel slowly got to his feet, and looked
down the entrance.  A rat-like man darting through a door
on the other side of the spear-launcher.
        "Arrete!"  Marcel shouted, charging into the room.  On his way
through the room, he hacked the cord of the launcher with his sword, and
barreled through the next door.
        The little man was fumbling with keys, trying to unlock a section
of the wall.
        "Hold!   Do not move."  Marcel looked around.  There was no one else
in the hallway.  "I will not harm you if you make no moves threatening."
        The man sniffled, and said.  "Whatever, man. Youz gots the pigsticker."
        Marcel slowly advanced.  "Throw me the ke-"
        The floor opened up beneath him.  Marcel leapt forward, catching the
edge of the pit with his free hand.
        [Way to go, hero.]
        /NOT NOW, RABBI!/
        Marcel started bringing his sword around so he could climb up with
both hands.  However, the little man had plans of his own.  "Not so hot now,
are ya, knight.  Wit yer shiny armor and big sword.  Listen.  T'ere's
T-crocs down t'ere.  Hungry 'uns."   He looked down at Marcel.
        "Back off, knave!"
        "Oooh, tough guy.  Tell it to the crocs."  He stomped down on Marcel's
mailed hand.  The armor protected his fingers, but he was starting to lose
his grip.  Just as he as about to lose it entirely, he mananged to swing his
free hand up, knocking the man from his feet.  He fell forward, onto Marcel,
and the two of them tumbled down into the pit.
-- 
Rick Jones				Systems Support Center
albert@bcm.tmc.edu			Baylor College of Medicine
Voice: 713-798-7352			standard disclaimers apply
"Hard to say, Ma'am. I think my cerebellum just fused." - Calvin