Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: [DQ] A Soul at Peace Message-ID: <92349.162700344LWKC@CMUVM.CSV.CMICH.EDU> From: Michael Sander <344LWKC@CMUVM.CSV.CMICH.EDU> Date: Monday, 14 Dec 1992 16:26:59 EST [ADMIN: This is a repost -- supposed to come out earlier, but apparently didn't make it. That sort of explains why things have been quiet... Anyway, many many thanks to Andrea and Stephen for their input in this!] ------------------------------------------------------------------------- The assembled DragonQuesters made their way out of the Dragon's Inn and into the snow. Even Generica, a town used to oddities, was overall agape at the phenomenon, wondering if the cold in this usually warm-weather clime was some sort of sign. The DQers knew it wasn't because of their deeds -- Generica might never know what it had been spared from, and that was likely for the best. In fact, you wouldn't hear a word about the weather from the remaining party -- these four men enjoyed the land of white after spending so much time in the darkened lands of the DemiPlane of Horror. Lancos led them to an area slightly south of the city, and west almost to the Great Blue Sea. They stopped at a small cave, with a group of widely diverse grave markers to the side of it. "It's rather appropriate." Lancos tells the others. "It's the spot I found TrueSilver's footprints at. Of course, I came here earlier and made it presentable." The warrior motioned them to a slightly isolated spot, with a light gray, obviously new, and currently unmarked headstone. "Clay?" Kadrys -- his face covered by his deep leather cloak - asked, recognized the material. Lancos confirmed it. "Ironically, a small ways back, there's a healthy supply of it. If William had come here first, he never would have gone with us to Ak Ir'neg.". There was a brief pause as a sigh escaped his lips. "I cut it out -- it was good to stain my weapons with something besides blood. But I left the marker blank, since I knew you'd each want to say something." "Pity ShockWave can't be with us now." Valgar added. "Or possibly ever." Lancos responded. "I talked to him, and he said that it shouldn't be too long before SunStorm's up and around. But from there they'll go to that seer again -- even I've got to admit her skill, Tan Ru assistance or not. But unless she suggests it, we'll likely never see him again." Taking the words as a sort of cue, Kadrys moves forward in absolute silence. He stands motionless for some time with his head bowed, his face in shadow. Then he draws a long, slow intake of breath and raises his head. The light falls on a face that is quite calm and composed. Most people, seeing him, would think him totally unmoved. Those assembled here, however, are wiser. They know him too well to be misled by his expressionlessness. His voice, when he finally speaks, is a dry, quiet thread of sound, that seems to accentuate the stillness, rather than break it. "Hands moved upon the potter's wheel. A humble craft, turned to a noble art. Beneath his touch the clay became the flesh of dreams, Poised as if on the brink of life. The gentle artist's soul moved on the face of the spinning clay, stroked the turning earth, caressed the orbiting world. Our clay, our lives, he moulded to his will. Our souls, our Hope, he crushed to dust. Watered with his tears, that dust he changed to clay. Upon the wheel of life and death that clay was his to spin. The fates of worlds lay cradled in the hollow of his hands. But now the wheel is stilled. And we, the sculptures, grieve." As he speaks, the vampire carves the name "William Bolivar Smith" in the clay, in a style that would look beautiful even to one who could not understand the words. Below it, and in a smaller script, is added: "Hero of the Dragon Quest." Valgar is next. "I have known imprisonment long and well. I know too well how risky the decision to attempt that spell -- to battle your captor -- to free us was. But free us you did, and likely all else with it." He pulled out a dagger, and slowly put the words "Savior of All Known Worlds" carefully into the clay. Lancos looked to 'Raelf to go next, but the Traveller motioned the warrior forward. Agreeing, Lancos knelt by the site. "I've already said much about you -- when I prepared this -- let me try to recapture some of that spirit." After a moment's thought, he continued. "Initially, more than anything you showed a lack of self-confidence. I myself have been down that path a time or two. But you evolved in an inspirational way, growing in ability, doing what you must. You deserve all the praise I can give you, and more." He fell silent, a blockily-sculpted "Mage of Power" on the marker serving as his last words. 'Raelf advance, placing his hands lightly on top of the monument. "I didn't know you well enough. I will remember you. All my offspring will remember you, and theirs, from one end of time and space to the other. If your spirit still lives, I hope you can hear me - I am sorry that I didn't ask you first." Not moving his hands, he mentally shaped the clay to additionally say "Yet We Hardly Knew Ye." The snow-covered meadow dimmed momentarily. The clay headstone flickered with the collected fire, and hardened, ivory porcelain, changed as William had been by the ovens of their fate. A whispered phrase, and the headstone was warded - harder than diamond and less brittle than water. 'Raelf stood, and all gathered knew that it was time for their departure. Anything else they could say would detract from the moment. The four men silently and slowly left the site, lost in their own thoughts as they transgressed back to Generica and the Dragon's Inn. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Michael Sander 344lwkc@cmuvm.csv.cmich.edu SAQ: "And all this could be/Such a dream/ So it seems/I was never much good at goodbye"-Night Ranger