From: albert@bcm.tmc.edu (Rick Jones)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [KQ] Marcel [Nesters]  Memory Prime
Message-ID: <14862@gazette.bcm.tmc.edu>
Date: 16 Sep 1992 03:54:23 GMT

[Admin: frammits.  you guys are going fast.  This interlocks with 
previous posts, and doesn't contradict at all, I hope.]

	Marcel ate quickly and excused himself to go up to one of the rooms,
"to tend to his injuries."  He closed the door on the semi-private room,
and began to pray.  A few minutes later, he kissed his crucifix and stood
up, his wounds almost entirely healed.

	[Diagnostics Running ....... Done.  System at 90% efficiency.]
	[That was fun.  Now what?]
	/I suppose I should check on Kron./  He walked over to where 
Kron was sleeping fitfully.  Marcel pulled a small device from his 
pack, and held it over Kron's prone form.
	[Medical scanner online: subject is dehyydrated and suffering 
from exhaustion.  Reccomend parastimulant package 4 and a glucose drip.]
	Marcel pulled a hypospray from the medical kit, and gave Kron 
a dose.  /It will take a few minutes to work.  I do not think I should use  
anything stronger./
	[Hey, there's something funny.  Watch his eyes.]
	/What about them?/
	[He's dreaming.]
	/He can't be.  Not in his condition.  He's too exhausted./
	[That's REM if I ever saw it.]
	/This reminds me of something.  I can't remember, though.  I've
seen this before on Magna Veritas./
	[More witch burnings?]
	/No.  This is important.  What was it?/

> When they were finished, they all felt better.  "I should go check on Kron,"
> Azzar said, after they had sat feeling replete for a few minutes.  She went
> upstairs to his room...

	And saw Marcel watching over him.  "I gave him some medicines, but
there's something strange going on."
	Azzar nodded and looked him over with a practiced eye.  "He's having
some sort of nightmare.   He looks sick too.  'Raelf healed the wounds on
the outside, but remember Kron's not as young as he wishes he were."
	"No, this reminds me of something I saw once, something nasty, but
I do not remember what it is."
	"Something you saw a a child, perhaps?"
	"I do not know.  But this is not just exhaustion."
	"A spell, then?  Perhaps a wizard is behind all of this."  She looked
down at Kron, "Poor man.  I do hope we find his sister."
	"Yes, well, if you do not mind Lady Azzar.  I am going to take 
a nap.  Wake me if anything changes."  Marcel walked over to one of the
other cots, and lay down on it.
	[Aren't you going to get out of the armor.  It's not too comfortable.]
	/With a _lady_ present?  Surely you jest./
	[What _was_ I thinking.  Sigh.]
	Marcel quickly nodded off.

	Cue Dream Sequence:
	"I do hope we find his sister."
	Sister.
	Sister....
	Big sister was sick.  Mama and Papa had gone to fetch Father Michael to
heal her.  Marcel was cleaning up her mess.  It stunk, pe-yew!  She rolled 
around in bed.  Marcel wanted her to get better.  Mostly so she would stop 
being sick all over their room.  He sighed and scrubbed the floor some more.
His back got sore, so he finally stood up, stretched, and looked out the window,
inhaling deeply. 
	"Claudine, get well."
	She sat up, abruptly.  "Ofrugahlusdi.  Chernabocquillas!"
	Marcel looked back at her,"Claudi, what did you say?"  She looked back
at him, and smiled an evil smile.  "Shub-N'gari!"  Her smile got wider.  Too
wide.
	"Sister?"  Marcel backed away slowly.  Something was WRONG with Claudi.
"Maman, Papa?" he called downstairs.  "Are you back?"
	Claudi kicked off the covers.  "They won't help you, manling."  She
looked down at her stained clothing.  "Such a frail form.  But it will do."
Slowly, she approached the confused child.  
	"Cla-"

	O V E R R I D E.

	[Hey, what's going on here?  Get out.  WAKE UP MARCEL!]

	E R A S E  M E M O R Y  S E Q U E N C E.

	[Stop that.  You can't -]

	W H A T  H A V E  W E  H E R E?

	[UH OH!  MARCEL!  HELP!]
	
	D O  N O T  I N T E R F E R E.

	/ummh. whuzzat?/

	E N O U G H ! ! !

	<P R O B E>

	[Stop 2@$^(_)@ T@H&A(T]

	<B L O C K  R E C A L L  O F  C H I L D H O O D  T R A U M A>

	<E R A S E  D R E A M  S E Q U E N C E   R E C A L L>

	<I M P L A N T  P L A U S A B L E  E X C U S E>
----------------
Choctaw:It'sagoodthingIwaswatchingthepaladin.

SandarTol:Notapaladin.Somethingelse.What'stheothermindinthere?

Landa:Don'tmatter.Neithermindwillrememberus.

Sandar Tol:Thisisgettingoutofhand.

Cheyenne: It doesn't matter.  terrykron willbewithus. 

Sandal Tol: Ohdear.Notgoodnotgood.

>> If it's not too much trouble, could you please stop shouting. I'm getting
   a headache.  Not that I should expect any better treatment from a sentient
   pile of unholy muck.  But still-  <<

Everyone: SHUTTHE!@#$%UPPRIEST!

>> Oh, don't mind me.  I didn't mean to bother you.  You seem to be quite 
   busy with this whole brother-eating world domination bit.  Go ahead,
   ignore me.  Everyone else seems to. <<

Cheyenne: terry?  Don'tyou love/want meback?  Confusion.

----

	"Cheyenne!"  Marcel groggily wakes, and looks over at the 
now conscious Kron.
	[Yawn.  Nice nap, eh?]
	/Feel worse.  Should have stayed awake./
	[Get some soup.]

	"By the Gods of Army Surplus, I'm starved.  Got any food?"
	Marcel trudges over to Kron, rubbing his eyes. "Downstairs.  
The troops will be happy to see you up.  You had us worried."
	As the three of them went down to the common room, Azzar asked,
"Marcel, did you remember whatever it was?"
	"Excuse me?"
	"You said you had seen something like it before."
	"Did I?" <F O R G E T> "I must have been really tired.  My apologies.
It was just fatigue."
-- 
Rick Jones				Systems Support Center
albert@bcm.tmc.edu			Baylor College of Medicine
Voice: 713-798-7352			standard disclaimers apply
You're only young once,but you can always be immature. - Dave Barry