Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: [MC] Marcel [The Cave] Capture Message-ID: <1j27ciINNfmp@gazette.bcm.tmc.edu> From: albert@chain.ssctr.bcm.tmc.edu (Rick Jones) Date: 13 Jan 1993 23:08:02 GMT "No, we face .... Tharkholdu," whispered Marcel. "That's bad, right?" asked Rook. "Very." Marcel looked around nervously. "I've never seen one, but I am told that they are very powe- WULG!" gasped Marcel. A cable snaked down from the broken light fixture above them, wrapping itself around his neck. He whirled his broadsword up and around, slicing the cable. But, a second, and then a third wrapped themselves around his sword arm. "Rook, run, get 'Raelf." gasped Marcel, struggling for breath. "That is not permitted," echoed a gravelly voice in the hallway. Rook vanished from sight. "Ah, a primitive cloaking aura. How droll. <>" A miniature tornado whipped down the corridor, buffeting the entangled Marcel, and continuing onward. Marcel struggled at his bonds, but was finding it harder and harder to focus. Black spots appeared in front of him. [You're blacking out kid, come on, stay with me.] The last thing Marcel heard before he blacked out was a sick thump, and a faint moan. "rook" whispered Marcel. HIATUS [Kid, you awake. Hey kid?] /Rabbi?/ Suddenly, every nerve in Marcel's body shouted *P*A*I*N* at him. He tried to stifle the scream, but couldn't. "Ah, I see you are awake," the gravelly voice growled. "Just a little something to focus your attention, stormer." Marcel shook his head to clear it, and opened his eyes. Standing a few feet away was a horrid sight. A demon, for no other word could describe it. He stood two and a half meters tall, and silver wings growing from his back easily had twice its height in span. It's skin was pale blue, the color of a drowned man. It's left eye was a dark red, but the other was silver, and a targetting sight replaced the pupil. It twitched it's left hand, which whirred slightly. In it's other hand, it carried a short baton, made of a dark wood and etched with strange symbols. Marcel looked up, to see his hands in the grasp of two silvery, skelletal arms growing the ceiling. His legs were similarly held. "So, Magna Veritan, what does Malraux want with Nexus?" demanded the creature. It began to pace across the small room. A hot, white spotlight illuminated Marcel, while the rest of the room was pitch dark. "Where's Rook?" replied Marcel. "Behind you, Marcel," answered Rook, her voice raw. "Are you all right?" "She will be, provided you answer everything truthfully. Now, what does Malraux want with Nexus?" "Nothing, I came here by accident. Let the girl go, and I'll tell you everything." "Let the elf go? I don't think so. She killed Twine. I'll need a new servant." "No!" shouted Marcel. "Ah, good, she does mean something to you. I was afraid that Malraux's conditioning would have you burning her at the stake or something weary like that. <>" The hands holding Marcel spun him about, so he could now see Rook. She was similarly held, and a huge bruise on her face marred her elven features. "Now, paladin. How did a backwards peasant like Malraux get access to cybertechnology?" "He just changed overnight into the Cyberpope. How am I supposed to know?" The creature laughed, a cruel barking sound, bereft of mirth. "'Cyberpope'? What fools these monkeys be. However, you just lied to me. Your galvanic skin responce fluctuated, and your voice pattern shifted. Paladins are the worst liars in all the cosmverse. <>" The hands holding Marcel's wrists grew barbed hooks, digging into his flesh and tearing. Marcel stifled an exclamation. He gritted his teeth, and muttered a quick prayer. His wounds healed, and his flesh expelled the barbs. "Ah yes. I was expecting that. Too bad the elf can't do the same. <>" Rook cried out. "Stop, stop." begged Marcel. "Okay. Malraux encountered Dr Hachi Mara-2-" "Hachi," the demon growled, and stood face to face with Marcel. "What of Hachi?" [Hoy, this guy's a bad audience, nu?] The demon cocked his head. "What was that?" "What was what?" asked Marcel. "The voice. The demon's eyes narrowed. <> A secondary spirit. What is that?" "The Rabbi." "Amazing, a spirit etched onto a datachip. I must test this." "Don't you want to know about Malraux, or Dr. Hachi?" asked Marcel, stalling for time. "No, the chip will tell me eveything." [Uh, Marcel, this is very bad.] /I knew that already./ [So storm him. it's our last hope.] /I don't know how. I've seen it done, but I never was able to invoke one myself./ [Uh oh.] The demon's finger extened a metal prong. With it's other hand, it pushed back a shock of Marcel's hair, revealing a small metal jack at his temple. "This will hurt... a lot." He reached forward, ready to insert the prong into the jack. -- Rick Jones "People come back from the dead all the time. I mean, albert@bcm.tmc.edu I've come back from the dead. I bet you have to!" Systems Support Center "Well... Yes, I have. But I AM a professional." Voice: 713-798-7352 -Rick Jones and Dr Strange, Incredible Hulk #399