From: shaun@csc.liv.ac.uk (Shaun Hovers)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [G] Clash of the Titans : Part I
Message-ID: <6546@m1.cs.man.ac.uk>
Date: 23 Oct 92 12:41:58 GMT


 Characters Involved: Roger, Thorr-kan
 Authors: Brian Shea, Matt Cutter


>Thorr-kan joins Roger on guard duty at the edge of the battlefield.
>When the human takes out the strange item, the White Minotaur looks on
>with interest.  "I have never seen a device of this type before.  Is it of
>gnomish design?"

"No, it's not Swiss.  This is an Ingram.  Pretty sweet piece, hasn't let me 
down yet."

>"So, what manner of creature are you?  Never seen anything quite like ya
>before."

>"I am not surprised."  Thorr-kan grins, showing many teeth.  Very sharp,
>very white teeth.  "Throughout my travels, people have always asked me
>this question.  I am a minotaur, the strongest and most honorable race
>of my homeworld.   In many other worlds, however, my people are beasts
>of little or no intelligence."

Roger smiles, "Back home, many people have little or no intelligence."

>Just then, a small reddish shape appears above Thorr-kan, chirping and
>squeaking animatedly.  Gleep has returned from his scouting flight.
>Upon hearing it, Thorr-kan sighs.  "My little friend reports no other
>enemies nearby."

>The White Minotaur reaches into a belt pouch, removing several small
>pieces of jerky.  One by one, they are devoured by his pseudo-dragon.
>Gleep settles on Thorr-kan's shoulder, humming softly.

>Thorr-kan sets himself down and places his minor arsenal out about him.
>He removes a flask of oil, several clothes, and a whetstone from his
>backpack.  Each piece of hardware is given special attention, beginning
>with the daggers.  These are then placed on his belt, and the longsword
>is given its turn.  Something disturbs Thorr-kan, because he begins
>muttering to himself and applying the whetstone with a vengeance.

>Roger then proceeds to untie the cords on the package, unrolling what is
>revealed to be a simple yet elegant katana.  The hilt is black, as is the
>scabbard.  The hilt is adorned by an ivory skull and cross-bones, matching
>both Roger's eyes and the insignia on the pin he wears.  Ivory runes decorate
>the scabbard, and give a sense of power.  As Roger draws the blade,
>Thorr-kan notes the flicker of energy along the single razor sharp edge.
>Roger notices this, and just shrugs his shoulders with a half-smile upon
>his face, as if to say, "Hey, it gets the job done..."

>Seeing the look on Roger's face, the White Minotaur rumbles.  "This
>falls into the category of 'Whatever works....', eh?  A fine weapon, human.
>Forged to take advantage of speed and agility.  "  Thorr-kan fingers
>the blade of the Horn of Justice, a satisfied grin spreads across his
>face as the halberd begins to glow.

Roger eyes the halberd speculatively.  "That halberd don't look too shabby,
either.  Built to take advantage of strength."  Roger pauses, and slowly 
shakes his head.  "I guess combat is different in this world.  Back in the 
sprawl, speed is everything.  It's no good to be strong if you get geeked 
before ya can react.  But then again, I've seen some Trolls that were chipped 
to the max.  Before you knew it, you felt like a truck had run you over.  
Course, they weren't fast as me..."  Roger chuckles to himself,  looking 
pleased. 


>This human would make a worthy ally, thinks the minotaur to himself.  It
>would be good to have someone in this group I can trust.  Most of us
>seem to be here against our will.  Things may get... messy if we cannot
>function together.  A prayer goes up:  Kiri-Jolith, I like not being the
>pawn in of others, but I will do your will here, as I am sworn.  Grant that
>I may return safely to my mate and guide my hand in the days to come....

Roger stands and stretches, saying "Well, I am going to work out a little, you
are welcome to join me if you wish.  Perhaps we could spar a little..."
Roger removes his black turtleneck, revealing a well-muscled torso with a
scar here and there, marks of a veteran shadowrunner.  Roger begins by
stretching out his 6'3'' frame, warming up for the work out.   


Roger then picks up his katana, and begins to dance.  He goes through a very 
ritualized outine, making strikes and blocks, but always returning back to 
the starting point after a couple of moves.  He starts very slowly at first, 
executing every move with absolute precision.  Roger begins to pick up the 
pace, flowing from strike to strike, executing blocks, feet constantly on the 
move now.  Roger is still performing everything flawlessly.  The pace continues
to pick up, and the moves become nearly indistinguishable from each other.  
Roger is now a virtual whirlwind of motion, katana flashing through the air, 
just a blur and a hum, a force alive in Roger's hands.  And then Roger is 
standing in the exact spot where he started, with the katana sheathed.  


Roger places the katana on the cloth, and then begins to dance again.  
This dance is different, though.  The weapon is no longer the katana, but the 
Jolly Roger himself.  

Roger clenches both his fists, and with a whisper three razors harp blades 
emerge from between the knuckles of each fist.  Roger once again starts off 
slowly, performing hand and foot strikes and blocks, and sheathing and 
unsheathing his claws.  The pace slowly picks up once again, and soon Roger is
flowing with the amazing speed and liquid grace that is his true forte.  
And just as suddenly as before, Roger is standing exactly where he started.  


Roger walks to the stump, and pulls a towel out of his saddle bag.  As he wipes
off the sweat, he looks at Thorr-kan and says, "Sorry, I am a little out of 
practice."

Brian Shea
taz@athena.mit.edu
The Jolly Roger
"You thought you were fast boy, but I was faster..."
		--The Red Hot Chili Peppers

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