Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: dementia@cheshire.oxy.edu (Daniel Steven Reinker)
Subject: [blade] Meshtak prepares
Message-ID: <1993Jan22.114909.24510@cheshire.oxy.edu>
Date: Fri, 22 Jan 1993 11:49:09 GMT

     Meshtak was glad for his cloak, for he was heading for the
Spitting Cobra and DEFINITELY did not want them to recognize him after
the brawl that had occurred the last time he was there. Meshtak was
definitely in the mood for a low profile.
     "Guards are after me, this Hendrix guy is after me...grot. I
shoulda stayed in Nooyork." muttered the draga as he made his way
to the tavern. On the way, Meshtak remembered that it might not be
such a good idea to walk in to the tavern wearing the cloak he now
wore. After all, he had been wearing the exact same thing the last
time he was in the Spitting Cobra. So on the way, Meshtak stopped
at a store that sold different colored dyes, and bought some
green. Then he stopped at the Dragon's Inn to dye the cloak. On the way
in, his eye caught an elf near the bar that seemed somewhat familiar,
and as he walked up the stairs, Meshtak tried to place him. finally
he gave up.
     Liera was awake when he came in, and looked at him, her eyes
anxious. "I need to pick up some things." he said. "The guy who
killed your dog is in Low Town. I'm gonna go in after him."
     "I hate to say it." said Liera. "But I'm getting very bored
here. I need something to do. Something to take my mind off of poor
Idgie."
     Meshtak peered up at her as he set up the dyeing equiptment. "Why
not go down into the bar? There's lotsa interesting folks down there.
Just tell them to put yer stuff on Meshtak's tab, okay?"
     Liera blushed. "I'm a lady...what would they say to see a lady
all by herself in a bar?"
     Meshtak worked on dyeing his cloak. "I don't think they'd say
anything. Trust me, women come in there all alone all the time. No
one'll blink an eye. But tellya what...if you want to be completely
safe, stay by the bard, Listener. No one'll bug ya if you stay by
him." Meshtak pulled out the cloak, and was satisfied that it was
now a nice shade of puke green. "Maybe they'll think I'm a ranger."
he mused.
     Meshtak dug through the stuff he had brought with him to the
room, and pulled out Sir Tyrone's scabbard. He was surprised to feel
it was warm to the touch, and immediately he knew that Sir Tyrone
was still alive, somewhere. "Hope I see the paladin again." Meshtak
thought. "I could sure use his help about now." Meshtak tried to
fit his shift sword in the scabbard, but it wouldn't fit. "Grot."
said the draga, and satisfied himself with tying the scabbard to
his waist with the shift sword in its whip form.
     As ready as he was gonna be, Meshtak donned his cloak and
accompanied Liera down to the bar. As they walked in, one of
the rabble was finishing up a joke. "So she sez 'I'm a nymph, but
I only go after dwarven rangers.' and I sez 'Pleased to meet you...
my name is Stoutheart Shrubbrother!'" Much raucous laughter ensued.
Liera looked at Meshtak and raised an eyebrow. The draga only shrugged.
     
Meshtak the Draga


-- 
"You can't help that. We're all mad here."-The cheshire cat, Alice in WL

"A mass hysteria/a megalomania/reveal Dementia/reveal"-Metallica