From: cgirard@neumann.une.edu.au (The Blade of Malchrntyne)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [T&R]3.4:Fading Like a Flower
Message-ID: <2162@grivel.une.edu.au>
Date: 9 Oct 92 07:44:13 GMT


> "Very impressive" Rollik said dryly. "You could have got the other one".

> All eyes were suddenly drawn to the shaft protruding from the swashbuckler's
> leg.

	Dropping the bolt, Timelord hurried over to Rollik who was leaning
against the wall in evident pain.  He bent to examine the wound, but Hyala
pulled him away.
	"No you don't," she said firmly, "this is my territory!"
	She bent down, and carefully took hold of the end of the bolt
protruding from Rollik's leg.  She then began murmuring softly, her other
hand waiving intricate designs in the air near the wound.
	Rollik could feel the waves of pain receding as Hyala continued
the incantation, and was infinitely grateful, as the thought of the bolt
being pulled from his leg without the cleric's ministrations was enough
to bring tears even to his eyes!
	After a minute or so, Hyala tightened her grip on the bolt, then
proceeded to slowly draw it from Rollik's leg, murmuring all the while.
With a soft slithering sound it was out, and Hyala dropped it to the ground.
She then placed her hand over the wound, and began a different prayer.  When
she was finished, the wound had completely healed over.
	"There," she said with a smile. "It will still be a bit stiff for
a few hours, but there won't be any infections.  I made sure of that."
	"My lady," Rollik said with a courtly bow, "I am in your debt.  Had
it not been for you, my friend over there would have had to perform 
undoubtably painful ministrations upon my person,  whereas your gentle hand
has left me with not a jot of pain.  I thank thee from the bottom of my heart."
	"You always did know how to charm the ladies," said Timelord dryly.

	They walked for a few more hours, down tunnels that grew more and
more rough and apparently disused.  There were only a few doorways on either
side, but they all lead either to small, empty rooms, or into corridors
that were caved in after a few metres.  The whole impression was of an area
that had been abandoned for some time.
	The corridor finally ended at a set of double irons doors, their 
surface pitted and rusted.  Seeing no other option, Rollik and Timelord
pushed on one of the doors, and slowly it opened with a protesting squeal
of rusted hinges.  Once opened far enough to allow them entry, they stepped
through.
	The cavern they entered was large, and had once housed a profusion
of exotic, rare, and colourful plants.  But no more.  It had obviously
long been abandoned, and the ravages of time had reduced the beauty of the
place to a profusion and dead plants, brown flowers, and an interlacing
of weeds, grass and wild vines.  A faint breeze stirred the air, its origin
unknown, and the dead leaves and branches rustled faintly, a background
noise that seemed to accentuate the deadness of the place.
	Timelord, Rollik and Hyala moved quietly into the cavern, each lost
in thought as they looked around.  
	"A sad place," said Hyala softly, "all that beauty left to wither
and die."
	She stopped by a small plant that had a single faded and dried
flower on one of the branches.  Tenderly she reached out to it, but as she
brushed the petals with her fingertips, it crumbled into dust.  She sighed,
and rose to her feet.
	"Shall we keep going?" she asked Timelord and Rollik, who had moved
further into the chamber.
	"I think we should camp here for a while," replied Timelord.  "There
are plenty of places where we can conceal ourselves and catch a few hours
sleep.  We may need it later."
	They cleared a small space in a clump of large bushes, and made
a meal of some grapes they had taken from the harem.  They sat in
silence for a time, thinking of what was ahead of them.
	"Timelord," said Hyala suddenly, "why do you and Rollik wear a
single glove?  I mean," she said with a smile, "did you lose one or
something?"
	"Nay, lady," said Rollik with a laugh, "he found one!"
	"Very funny," said Timelord with a wry grin.  "Actually, for
Rollik here, it's something of a fashion statement.  For me," and the
smile left his face, "it's something else."
	"That reminds me," said Rollik, leaning forwards, "how did
you manage to find you gauntlet?  All my weapons were gone, and by the
looks of it, yours too."
	"It never left me," he replied, staring down at his gauntleted
right hand.  "It never will leave me, not until I have paid the price
for my failure.
	"Enough of this talk," he said before the others could question
him further.  "If we go on like this we'll end up falling on our swords
out of depression.  Rollik, why don't you tell us that tale of how you
managed to save that princess from those pirates and then single-handedly
sailed the ship clear across the endless sea?"
	The next hour or so was filled with Rollik's somewhat exaggerated
(and possibly more than a bit fabricated) tale of his adventure on the 
high seas.  Always ready to recount numerous such tales, he soon warmed to
the subject, holding Hyala raptured by the story.  Timelord, who had heard
it numerous times before, and never the same twice, still chuckled to
himself as Rollik recounted how he got out of one impossible situation after
another.
	The tale finally at an end, and everyone in much better spirits,
they settled down to catch a few hours sleep.  Timelord offered to take
first watch, and settled down a few yards away from the others, sword in
hand.
	It was good, he thought, as his eyes scanned the surrounding
foliage, to have Rollik along to lighten the mood when needed.  Not that
he wasn't a good fighter; he was one of the best Timelord had seen from
this land.  No, it was his carefree, happy-go-lucky attitude to life that
provided the perfect counter to Timelord's often bleak outlook and
relentless drive.
	Timelord recognised that in himself, and knew well where it had
come from.  Thinking of it, he looked down at the gauntlet, and he could
feel the weight of it upon his soul.  He clenched his fist as he thought
of his dead master, and the day he discovered how he had unwittingly
betrayed the man who had been like a father to him, if only for a short
time.
	"The penance must be paid," he murmured to himself, remembering
the oath he had taken in his shame and sorrow.  "But Master," he said,
"how much more will it take?  How much longer must I endure?"
	With a conscious effort he unclenched his fist and wrapped his hand
about the hilt of his sword.  One day it would be paid; one day he would be
free of the sorrow and guilt that was so much a part of his life.


 The Blade of Malchrntyne (CJ)| There comes a time when the jewels cease to
 Drummond College A100        | sparkle, and the gold loses its lustre, and
 x 3069                       | the throne room becomes a prison - and all
 There can be only one.       | that remains is a father's love for his child