Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: aaron@helios (Aaron Humphrey)
Subject: [MI] Noctu[Yirma's]: The Center of The Web
Message-ID: <1992Sep27.221959.24553@kakwa.ucs.ualberta.ca>
Date: Sun, 27 Sep 1992 22:19:59 GMT


Noctu sat in a room in the basement of Yirma's Brothel.  His lieutenant,
Shatoc, was reporting to him.  "Chicele has cemented his position in charge of
the Alley Creepers.  He took Black Dharzin into his confidence, and the dwarf
has agreed to go along with our plan."

Noctu snorted.  "Not surprising.  After that Vossacker heist, he's probably on
the Guard's ten most-wanted list.  He'd do anything that he thinks will get rid
of them.  Don't put too much trust in him, though.  Dwarves can't be trusted. 
Next?"

"We are currently playing off the Elf Scalpers and the Trigolet Clan off
against Norad's Pummelers and Golden Violence.  The natural enmity between
them, coupled with a few incidents our plants have manufactured, should
guarantee a bloody war that will cover our movements and allow us to be rid of
a few more nuisances."

"Good.  Next?"

"We have made contact with the half-drow Bethor Rinch in the Night Martens, and
the leader of the Black Bullies, who seems to call himself Bully-Boy.  They
both responded to the sign of the Demon Queen, and are ready to meet with you
at your convenience.  Rinch may take some goading to go up against Hot Seccho,
but we think we can place him in charge with the help of a convenient accident,
to be blamed on someone appropriate."

"Good.  Next?"

"There is a bit of word going about on the street.  After the kidnapping, word
of the reappearance of our symbol has been spreading.  We've already gained
credit for the sacking of the Joystix factory.  It has also been noticed how
many gang leaders have been meeting with accidents or being killed by other
gang members.  The correlation that the new gang leaders seem to be mostly
former Demon Spiders has not yet been noticed by most.  I recommend nonetheless
that we focus our attention to current gang leaders who can be subverted or
replaced with other non-Spiders who can be subverted.  And recruiting new
members, surreptitiously--perhaps from outside Low City."

"Hmmm.  We don't want to risk premature discovery, but we don't want to slow
ourselves too much either.  Proceed as you suggest, with caution, but not too
much.  Start counter-rumours if necessary.  Now.  Any word on those Honus saw
at the Spitting Cobra?"

"The black man has been identified as Queriche, former bartender at the Scrappy
Ram and current employee of Moriarty Investigations.  The half-elf is as yet
unidentified, but presumably also worked for MI.  The woman is Delmara,
priestess of Aditi.  Queriche was spotted later at Ratty's, and the others at
the Dragon's Inn.  Observers noted them leaving the Dragon's Inn with a Low
City child who was reportedly chased there by the Gutt Man.  Reason unknown--
perhaps simple softheartedness, but the child could also have information they
need.  It's near-impossible to determine whether the child witnessed anything
important."

"Then we should be prepared for anything.  We shall assume that they know we
are here, and will be coming here with an undetermined, but probably small,
force.  If they recruit more help in the Dragon's Inn, then we may be facing a
powerful force.  Prepare Gap evacuation to Web Three.  And fetch Yirma for me."

"Aye, sir," Shatoc made the Spider-sign and departed.  A few minutes later,
Yirma entered.  She was a woman long past her prime, and attempting,
unsuccessfully, to hide that fact with too much makeup.

"I got a house to run here, I can't come at your beck and call, Noctu.  Maybe
you think you got some kinda hold on me, eh?  Well, I can kick you out anytime
I want.  I--"

"Hush."  Yirma subsided.  "How is our captive faring?"

"She ain't sleepin', that's for sure.  You should let me give her some
Joystix.  That'd keep her calm.  As it is, from the next room it sounds like
somethin' heavy goin' on in there.  I keep getting requests."

"No.  No drugs.  Her body must be kept pure."

Yirma shrugged.  "'Sokay.  I'm running low.  I wish that bastard Elstrek would
hurry up and get production started again."

Noctu stood up and stretched.  "We may be moving out soon.  It may become too
dangerous around here."

Yirma grew angry.  "You bastard!  You come in here, and screw me so I'll let
your gang work out of here, giving up good rooms that could be earning me a
hundred more gold a night, and then you bring the heat down on me and walk
out!  Well, screw you!"  She turned to leave.

"Yirma," Noctu said, grabbing her arm and pulling her to him so that her face
was inches from his.  "Listen," he hissed, his teeth white against his
coal-black skin.  "You don't know anything about me.  I never came here.  And
you will be alive a week from now, and your house will not burn to the ground. 
Do you understand me?"

Yirma stared at him for a few seconds, until he shook her.  "Do you understand
me?"  Finally, she nodded, and he released her.  "Go attend to business."  She
ran out of the room.

Alone again, Noctu picked up a black candle and searched the corners of the
room.  Quick as lightning, he reached out and plucked a spider from its web,
and held it above the flame.  "Mighty Demon Queen," he whispered.  "Hear your
servant.  This night you will receive a gift, and more if all goes well.  Look
with favour on my endeavour, and grant me a return to the life I knew."  For a
moment, Prince Naleril of Desleval recalled his former life in the Underwurlde,
and the unfairness of his treatment because he was a mere male.  He would prove
them all wrong, and make himself Overlord.  With the aid of the Demon Queen, of
course.

He received no answer.  He hadn't, since that first time.  There was some kind
of unclean influence in this part of the city that blocked his communication
with his goddess.  That was why he had placed the Shrine in the Gaps outside of
Low City.  There they would flee.  There the sacrifice would take place.

But he must be careful not to throw the half-elf off the trail.  For he was the
second gift he would give to his mistress.

He sat in repose and waited for his prey to come to him.

--
---Alfvaen(Canadian SF Quasi-Activist)
"And when the thunder breaks, it breaks for you and me."
   ---This Mortal Coil
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