From: hutch@ibeam.intel.com (Steve Hutchison) Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: 'Raelf and ar'Elya :: "Where everybody knows your name" Message-ID: Date: 20 Jan 93 20:58:09 GMT References: The last wave started - not one of the turbulent 18 foot monsters that had pounded in earlier, breaking and crashing against the rocks guarding the small stretch of beach, this was to be merely a 10 foot swell. "Ride it in, dude." Two men sat astride surfboards at a point just before the wavebreak, one blond and dark-tanned, average height with a well-muscled athletic body, the other red-haired and bronzed, nearly eight feet tall and with an immensely powerful frame. The redhead nodded in reply, and began to paddle towards the wavecrest, then stood, balancing somewhat clumsily but with increasing confidence, cutting back and forth across the wave until it degenerated into a foaming mess of inchoate suds - the board slid up onto the beach and the big man jumped off and picked it up. The blond man glided slowly towards shore, milking the remaining surge of water until he too ran aground. "What you think?" asked the giant. "You've got the basics. Just need to practice balance now." "Good. You hungry?" "Yeah, kind of. What you have in mind?" "Dragon's Inn? Good beer there." "Sure. You want to change first?" The blond gestured at the rock face of the cliff before them and a door opened. "Yah - got some clothes? Loincloth's full of salt water." "I think I got a pair of baggies and a sweatshirt should fit you." --- The Inn had a smaller number of Rabble present than usual - and three of the infamous Dark Corners sat empty and unoccupied. The table near the fire where Kadrys usually sat was empty except for a clutter of glasses waiting to be cleared away. Lancos had been occupying a nearby table the day before, talking with a blue-skinned woman (NOT Alita), a strange lynx-looking fellow, and the very depressed priest who had played seed-grain to the Great Mother's oyster not too long ago. But the lynx had left, and the conversation between Lucas and Sapphire seemed to be in one of those painfully embarrassing silences. At another table, this one near the bar, an abstracted Lifilis Kloote remained, staring into the dark corners, with a strange looking lizard perched jauntily on one shoulder. That dangerous old man with the little bronze dragon was also nearby, with a somewhat outsized pixy sitting ?under his table?... The room had just settled down after the barfight brought on when some mercenary Sea Guard had brought in a magicked-up ringer for a bit of illicit betting. As usual, the disturbance had been brief as the pacifying magic of the Listener downplayed the incident and quieted the jangled nerves of everyone present. In the aftermath, the Guard and his charge had left the Inn along with several other people - perhaps some Rabble followed, hoping to recover their money? - and Mary and Marux the mopboy were working valiantly to clean up the mess and the two broken chairs. The wind blew a chill through the open door as another of the Dark Corner Lurkers decided to leave rather than endure the humiliation of being seen (and appraised) by someone with the superior arrogance of a Lifilis Kloote. As the door closed, two figures condensed out of the remnants of the breeze. 'Raelf, still in his modified wetsuit, was wearing a pair of very strange boots with a row of wheels coming out the bottom, sparking and gleaming with magic fires from the runes on their sides. A breath later, he caught a second figure condensing from Air: the giant redhaired man, now wearing loose black pants and a ragged-edged torn tunic with no sleeves that barely reached down to his navel, with a faded drawing on the front depicting a dog-headed monster with the body of a warrior, flexing its arms. He wore a second pair of the strange boots, and seemed slightly unsteady on them. "See, it's faster to ride the wind," 'Raelf was saying. "No good for long distance," was the reply. "We gonna sell these too?" "After I get the bugs worked out." A gesture and <> and the rollerblades vanished, leaving boots that were safe to walk in. Listener was in mid-conversation with someone from the South Seas. 'Raelf recognized the skin markings, though not the strange skin-armoring effect the fellow had been subjected to - he had gone to the Islands to get the sand for the second tower room, and carefully avoided the people there after he noticed what (or rather, who) was in the cook pots. 'Raelf and his companion sat down at the table which had been the gathering place for SunStorm and the Dragon Questors. After a few minutes wait, Mary Littlefair came by. She cleaned away the glasses and pitchers, and Marux pushed the dish-laden wooden cart back into the kitchen while she gave an appraising glance to the two. "You still have a positive credit on your room rent. But you haven't used it for a week or so. You still want us to hold it or just apply it as your tab for meals and drinks?" "Put it for meals please. We've just got a place in town, but if you don't mind, we'll still be getting mail and messages here." "That's fine then. What would you like?" "We'd like two large pitchers of Cat Porter. A roast bird for me - Ray, what you want?" "Steak. Rare. Horseradish and a half-dozen bakers with the works." "That'll be ten minutes. 'Raelf, are you going to eat your veggies?" "Oh all right. Bring me a large salad." "That's better." The music started up again as Listener and the Islander exchanged songs.