Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: tim@mik.uky.edu (timothy c huesman) Subject: New Character meets Cathal [Inn] Keywords: New PC, NPC, Cathal, Littlefair, Serene, Inn Message-ID: Date: Tue, 8 Sep 1992 05:54:54 GMT Nightfall, and Generica begins its shift from the sunlit merchant city to a claustrophobic collage of closing shadows having no apparent end. Night settles on this civilised, albeit questionably, city as a mutating fog. The denizens of the dark change places with the occupants of the light as the skilled, the hard-working and the careful are replaced by the skilled, the hard-hearted and the survivors. Movement is felt among the murkiness of the night and if its cause is seen at all it quickly dissipates into the womb of welcoming shadow. The merchants of the night carry on their business as do the day merchants, some making rounds to preferred customers and offering wares for a fee. One such abandons Mother Darkness to appear as if newly created amid the glow of a lit doorway. He passes through the door and vanishes again. Hercli appears at the doorway of the Dragon's Inn. His eyes scan the room for his usual customers and see scant pickings -- he hopes his brother Agoust is doing better in the other taverns. E'en with his regular clients away, he still manages to keep his cool, he can't let his brother make more than he tonight... he makes his rounds through the room, cocking an ear to conversations not only to see if his information is already common knowledge but also to catch the drift of new information as it spills from unwary lips to very wary ears. As he makes his rounds his eyes will make contact with those he has seen before and with a brief exchange he will 'tease' these potential buyers of his wares with minor news. He makes his circuit, occassionally stopping to sip a brew with a customer and money and more passes between them. As he leaves, all have heard pieces of the gossip he knew few had yet heard yet seemed too inconsequential to sell. Among such tidbits were that an arachnid of monstrous proportions appeared in the GateWay, left the curious cargo of a human and a bird and then disappeared again, nothing noteworthy. An hour or so later, the door again opens and eager members of the city guard escort a portly gentleman into the warmth of the inn. ADMIN Thus enters a new character and his NPC. The gentleman rubs his hands together briskly and exclaims loudly, "I hope this chill is caused by the cold season on this world, I'd hate to think of this as high summer!" He turns his head to view the bird snuggled against his collar. "Prill, If you would...." As the gentleman moves into brighter lighting one sees him to be in his 30's, a human 5'9" and carrying more weight than one in need of speed. It is evident that his hands as well are those of one who favors delicate tasks. He is dressed in a blue and crimson doublet, breeks tucked into silken hose, and silver-buckled shoes. At his side a shoulder-slung courier's bag rests. He wears a baldric with a rapier appended and on his broad belt is a scabbard with main gauche & rolled tool-skins in two pouches. His eyes are a deep green and his brown hair is graying at the temples. As the bird leaves his shoulder he slaps a guard on the back. He makes a jest and laughs at his joke and a metallic doll on a tight chain about his neck bobs up and down. The bird leaving the safety of his collar resembles more than anything a mockingbird. It beats it's wings rapidly and increases in size as in moments it is transformed into the semblance of a human woman. She differs from humanity in that she has stiff hairs at the crown of her head, at her elbows and 'feathering' back from her temples. Upon her upper arms a lack of pigmentation gives the appearance of chevrons. Her light-brown hair shot with grey is close-cropped. Wide spaced eyes take on a piercing stare. While dressed in a gauzy fabric that leaves her arms and legs bare the many layers of the snug, brown cloth conceal her torso entirely. She moves quickly to the bar and asks for Master Littlefair. Petite to the point of fragile, she rests against the bar until the owner makes his appearance. At his arrival the 'woman' draws up her 4' 10" frame and in a lilting voice of near magical timbre introduces the gentleman to him, "Master Littlefair, please meet Doctor Panacea of Benis." The gentleman steps up and blusters out, "Umm yes, well met, Sir. I will be running a tab." A signet ring of ruby agleam on his hand, Doc Pan slowly reaches into his doublet and pulls out a bag bearing the symbol of the Gypsy Moneychangers. He hands the bag to the proprietor and spotting a table with Cathal scribbling on parchment, gestures towards it. Addressing the owner again he asks politely, "If one of your staff would care to bring three dinners to that table and three of whatever he is drinking? Umm but first I think these thirsty gentlemen require a stout ale to warm them before they return to their night duties, eh?" Doc Pan gestures to the city guard who heartily assent to having free drink. The Doc moves to Cathal's table and exchanges brief greetings and asks if he and Prill may join him. Cathal, hesitates in shock at being disturbed at his PRIVATE table, but rallies to action as he spies Serene bringing Double Dragon Ale to the table. Protecting his parchment, Cathal hastily puts it away. Doc Pan introduces himself and Prill to the loner and as Prill is introduced, the sing-song quality of her voice lightens the mood considerably. Her face devoid of emotion, the warmth of her voice conveys thanks, "How kind of you accomodate us, Sir." Doc Pan adds, "Yes... kind of you... but then one should never dine alone." The Doc gestures to Serene as she carries over three heaping bowls of steaming stew(what speedy service, eh?) Doc Pan sips at his ale and gives it a measuring look, "Woof! this brew is as strong as port!" Laughter fills the table as the three set about the Inn's fare. ADMIN -- For those who can read auras, Doc Pan is devoid of any, -- the amulet at his neck has one, but is too small to read. -- For those who are PSI sensitive, Doc Pan puts off a slightly -- disturbing buzz at a distance of about five feet. Tim -- tim mik.uky.edu Tim Huesman