Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: aaron@space.ualberta.ca (Aaron Humphrey) Subject: [MI] Alfvaen[Inn]: Shelter To The Little Rat Message-ID: <1992Sep8.155720.13472@kakwa.ucs.ualberta.ca> Date: Tue, 8 Sep 1992 15:57:20 GMT Characters featured: Alfvaen, Delmara, William, Little Rat Alfvaen is watching William's hands flying on the clay sculpture, mesmerized, when Delmara taps him on the shoulder. "Look at that poor child!" Alfvaen turns his gaze, and sees a ragged child of about six, or perhaps an undernourished eight, hiding under a table. He hears a voice from outside saying, "Where are ya, ya little bitch? I'll get ya. Ya can't hide from me..." The child's voice, a girl's, says from under the table, "Can yinz people help me? Him da Gutt Man. Him gonna make me dead an' take my gutts out. I ain't got no jangles, but I'd be slave or sumfin'." Delmara bent down and reached under the table. "Hush, little one. I'm here. I'll help you." The child looked at her suspiciously through the legs of a chair. "For what?" Delmara looked puzzled. Alfvaen bent down to join her. "You're from Low City, right?" As if anywhere else in town a child could live like that. But the girl nodded. "Well, I bet you've seen a lot of stuff, right?" Another nod, more hesitant. "Well, I need to know about some people in Low City. If I help you now, will you tell me what I want to know?" The girl considered this for a moment, then nodded vigorously as there was pounding on the door from outside. She spat on her grimy palm and held it out solemnly to Alfvaen. After a moment, he spat on his palm and they shook hands. He covertly wiped his hand on his pants and stood up, just as the door burst open and a disreputable-looking man walked in. "Where's that Little Rat?" he growled. "She's mine, and she ran away, and I seed her run in here." Alfvaen looked as innocent as possible. "Ain't seen no kid in here, guy. Now perhaps you can leave before you stink up the place any more?" A hush settled over the Inn, and Listener started tuning up his harp. The man grimaced, and then his eyes flicked down to the face barely visible between Alfvaen's legs. "Thar she is. Under that table. Now give 'er to me, and there won't be no trouble." "Please don't, mister," Little Rat whispered, fear in her voice. "I'll tell you everything you want to know about anyone. Just don't let the Gutt Man get me." "I'm afraid you're mistaken, sir," Alfvaen said. "This little child is my daughter. She's a little shy with strangers, and I believe she had dropped something under the table and was looking for it. Found it yet? No. Well, I believe that if that's all your business here..." The Gutt Man scowled. "You don't fool me none, pointy-ears slick-talking bastard." Listener started to play the first strains of a soothing melody. The Gutt Man strode further into the room, then stopped as his sleeve caught on something. He looked to see Alfvaen's dagger pinning his sleeve to the wall. And his other sleeve, too. He looked up to see Alfvaen holding another dagger in his hand. "This one goes right in between. Or maybe I'll just keep it in my hand. Your choice." The Gutt Man growled and ripped his sleeves loose from the daggers, leaving scraps of cloth pinned to the wall. Then he seemed to reconsider and turned to leave the Inn. "Next time I see that elven scumlicker in Low City, he's gonna regret it. I'll tear out his liver and chop it into mush and boil it in Orc Ale." He mumbled as he walked out into the Plaza of Glittering Steel and all the way back to Low City. Little Rat crawled out from under the table and looked up at Alfvaen. "Thanks, mister," she said. "Now what you want Little Rat to tell you? I know lots." "Not here, Rat," he said. "Let's go someplace a bit more private. Back to the office." Then he recalled the sculptor's work, and went back to see if he'd finished yet... -- ---Alfvaen(Canadian SF Quasi-Activist) "What have I done to piss the gods off?" ---Terence Trent D'Arby Current Album--Aztec Camera:Love Current Read--John Updike:Rabbit, Run