From: jgreene@dorm.rutgers.edu (Jeffrey Greene) Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: [Ga] Night on the town Message-ID: Date: 2 Dec 92 01:04:06 GMT The shadow on the rooftop looked around with piercing, emerald eyes. Zebron watched the house intently, noting every detail as only a thief could. The large house was obviously paying off the local guild for 'protection'. Every house in the neighborhood had sentries patrolling. Every house, that is, except this one. Careless. The owner must think that he didn't have to pay for guards if he paid off the thieves. He was wrong. Zebron shifted his weight, and Dusk looked around. The drow had wanted to invite Brent along, but when the dark elf looked in the other's window, the half-elf was piercing his arm with a poison arrow, fighting off the venom as best he could, and then making ready for bed. Truthfully, Zebron had expected Brent to contact the local guild. In fact, Zebron smiled, he would be letting them know that Jaq Spayde was in town, in his own special way. Zebron reached down and took a horn from his belt, he blew softly, and the sound of a foghorn echoed down the street as a thick fog issued forth from the horn. After a few minutes, the street was suitably covered and the horn was put away. Zebron stepped forward and concentrated. Thanks to the magic of another item, the drow became a pitch black version of himself, even his shining emerald eyes became the color of night. Much neater than coal dust. Adjusting his cloak on his shoulders, Zebron considered activating this, his most favored magical item. But the idea quickly passed and a grappling line was thrown across the street. Sending Dusk on ahead, the drow started to walk across the narrow rope. Halfway across, he heard a drunk down below. Hoping his fog cover and the man's drunken stupor would be enough, Zebron ignored the fellow and made it to the opposite roof, where the grappling equipment was recovered and packed away. Some thieves thought it wise to leave an escape route, but Zebron could use magic and never liked leaving any evidence behind except a calling card. Added to the mystery, he thought. The brickface of the building had plenty of handholds - to a thief, at least - and Zebron made his way to a window. Ok, the owner was entirely trusting of the thieves guild. The shutters were unlocked and easy to get through. The raven followed the drow, watching the elf's back. The first door opened was a linen closet, but the second one was a master bedroom. Two humans slept in the bed: an older man, and a woman too young to be his wife. Zebron shrugged, and was about to continue when Dusk saw the dog. This was a huge dog. Big. Lots of sharp teeth. In a word, trouble. A lesser thief would have been dismayed, but not this one. An incantation was brought to his lips, and soon the trio were in a non-natural, magical slumber. Another spell and most of the room was enveloped in silence. Granted, this meant Zebron could not hear anyone approach, but Dusk silently flew outside the spell's effect and acted as the elf's ears. What a team. The strongbox was quickly found, and quickly opened. When the lid was opened, a magical pair of lips formed, screaming a magical alarm. Too bad it was in the area silenced by Zebron's spell. Zebron smiled, until he heard the other alarms throughout the house going off via his link to Dusk. A magician. That's why there were no guards. Probably a minor mage, though, considering that there could have been more powerful wards than a mere alarm system. Still, a mage is a mage. Damn his luck. He gathered as much of the loot as he could while getting off one more spell. Good. He was an evil man. Now the elf didn't feel bad. Dusk sent an urgent message. There were others in the house, and they were coming. Swiftly dropping a playing card into the stongbox, the drow concentrated on his cloak. The form of the elf shifted into that of a bat. Zebron smiled. He had quested for many years and travelled many continents in search of this one magic item, and it had all been worth it. The bat and raven flew down the hall, out the window, and into the night, leaving only a Jack of Spades and a noticible abscence of gems and coins behind. Later, a local friar was awakened by a knock at the door. When he went to answer it, he found a sack of gems and coins with a note. Opening the note, a playing card fell to the ground as the cleric read the message, telling him to give it to the families of farmers who were brainwashed and killed a half- day's ride out of town. The man bent down to pick up the card, and could only guess at the meaning of the solitary Jack of Spades. Above, the emerald eyes of a shadow watched the man pick up the sack and enter his house. Then the shadow raced across the rooftops, a raven at his side, back to the inn where the night's adventures had begun. -Jak