From: albert@chain.ssctr.bcm.tmc.edu (Rick Jones) Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: [KQ] Marcel 'Raelf [Factory] Out of the frying pan into the blender Message-ID: <14281@gazette.bcm.tmc.edu> Date: 24 Aug 1992 14:08:14 GMT Brief Reminder: 'Raelf is "dressed" as one of the guards, and is taking Marcel down to be interrogated. 'Raelf and Marcel turned a corner and continued into the complex accompanied by a bored (real) guard. "Shinys on that one. Get a fivedose for it, at least," he commented. "At least, if Boss don't shiv. And 'sall mine, so no touchies," replied 'Raelf. "'Course, pal. You'd share tho?" "And monkeys might my out of my butt." "What?" "'Sa joke, goober." "Ah. Oh, I get it. Monkeys. Snicker." From up ahead, the sounds of combat echoed down the corridor. "Bugger, we better hurry," urged 'Raelf. "You want to get closer to wetwork?" "Um, no. I just want to get tinboy here down to interrogation before the dose wears off." 'Raelf rudely shoved Marcel forward. As they got closer, they spied Werner, obviously the one in charge. He was directing more guards to pass crossbows out to snipers. 'Realf pressed forward. "Got a spy, boss. Caught him in the sewers. He's goofed on the stuff." "Idiot! Now he won't give us any useful data on his pals." He held out a hand as if he was about to strike 'Raelf, who was debating blowing his cover now, and handing this asshole his head, or playing along. A quick glance down the corridor told him that Kron's group could take this crew eventually. But Werner's hand stopped, and an evil grin appeared. "No, take him to Quruuminias." The guard blanched, and 'Raelf quickly put a scared look on his face to match. "Oh don't be such a wuss. Tell him I want you to come back with a report. And Spud stays here." Spud looked overjoyed at that. "Uh, right sir." "Well, go on. March!" ordered Werner, pointing towards a nearby stairwell. "Git on down there." "Yessir. Come on, scum." 'Raelf shoved Marcel again, who was maintaining his blank look. They hurried down the corridor, as Werher shouted "Night Squad! Execute Scorpion Maneuver!" When they were out of earshot Marcel whispered, "Perhaps we should help our allies back there?" "Nein. The point is to get info on this teleporter guy. We want information on this blinkin' fellow. This Q-ball is probably the tortureror's apprentice or something. We'll be in and out in a few seconds." They came to an iron door at the end of the hallway. "Dis mus be da place. Remember, you're a Stimpy right now." Marcel resumed his blank look, and 'Raelf knocked on the door. A moment later the door swung open. "Enter." [I've got a bad feeling about this.] /Witchery, no doubt./ Marcel entered, followed by 'Raelf. A cloaked figure in the center turned around slowly, and pulled back his hood. [Hokey smokes, it's dread Cthuhlu!] The illithid's voice echoed in Marcel and 'Raelf's minds. "Well, this is interesting. A Magna Veritan, and a Traveller Mage. And just in time for dinner. Traveller brains go well with a nice spinal fluid cocktail." "Oh shit," muttered 'Raelf. "And you're just in time to join your scaley friend." He gestured towards an unconscious Thk, suspended over a boiling cauldron by a thin rope. Two guards stood on the catwalk above, one with a knife near the rope. "Now do put your weapons down." /What is a dread Cthuhlu?/ [OHSHITOHSHIT! BIG TROUBLE!] "Interesting," intoned the mind-flayer. "There are two minds in the knight, one subordinate to the primary. This will be interesting" He rubbed his tentacled hands together. "Now, ~do not move~." Marcel and 'Raelf felt the compulsion freezing their limbs. 'Raelf, however, had a mu-shin ward up, and the compulsion was easier to fight. He reached inside his tunic and grabbed the chopstick/staff. "~DO NOT MOVE~" <> 'Raelf dissappeared and reappeared on the catwalk next to the guards. His staff was now full sized, and FLICK, he was in back in his normal form. That left Marcel to take the full brunt of the mental assault. Marcel resisted with all of his might, until something had to break. [Panic data fault. Core Dump. Marizy dotes and dozey dotes and little 101010110100110010101011110100100010010001011001010011111] Marcel grimaced, his face twisted with rage. He howled at the ceiling. The toon rope vanished and Marcel ran at Quruuminias, instinctively drawing his sword. Meanwhile up on the ramp. <> The tip of the staff glowed red, then shot a gout of flame at the rope above Thk. His ring will save him from the boiling whatever, but the shock should wake him up, 'Raelf thought. He brought the staff up into a defensive position. "Come on, make my annum." [ADMIN: The attempted domination triggered a berserker cyberpsychotic episode in Marcel. He'll come out of it in a minute or two, and then pass out from shock. He'll need to be carried out.] -- Rick Jones Systems Support Center albert@bcm.tmc.edu Baylor College of Medicine Voice: 713-798-7352 standard disclaimers apply "Do not taunt Happy Fun Ball."-Saturday Night Live