From: v124jw4y@ubvmsb.cc.buffalo.edu (Benjamin R Pierce) Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: Re: [Blade] Gortok learns of Blade. Message-ID: Date: 4 Feb 93 19:19:00 GMT References: <1993Feb4.103254.3577@mnemosyne.cs.du.edu> In article <1993Feb4.103254.3577@mnemosyne.cs.du.edu>, mreinker@nyx.cs.du.edu (matthew Reinker) writes... > > A man named Arcadio had joined Sir Tyrone and Gortok at the >Dragons-inn. Arcadio's presence had done much to calm the agitated >Paladin, still remained tense. > "I must admit that I'm confused," musttered Gortok. "Who is this >Blade and why is Meshtak trying to free him." > Leira spoke up at this point. "Blade is a horrible beast, Meshtak >must be planning something awful." > "The lady may be right." Tyrone stood up and faced his companions. >"Blade was trying to kill Meshtak, and now Meshtak is trying to free him. >The evil one behind all this must have got to him. We must stop Meshtak." > "I agree," stated Arcadio, standing as well. "A force of that power >must not be fre...." > "NOW HOLD ON A MINUTE," Yelled Gortok!! "What's going on? Who is >this Blade, and why is he so dangerous? Why would Meshtak try to free him?" > "That's right, You haven't been here from the start have you...Gortok >is it?" With a nod from Gortok, Arcadio once again settled into his chair >and made sure his drink was full. "Well Gort, Blade is a seven-foot >whet-stones nightmare. We don't know where he came from, all we know is >he came to kill Meshtak. Damn near spilled my drink too." > Gortok nodded understanding, "Don't call me Gort." > Tyrone once again stood up. He had been looking at a nick in his >sword and once agin tucked the mighty blade into his belt. > "We have wasted enough time talking, Meshtak must be stopped. >Arcadio, if you are with us than we must be going." With that, Tyrone >headed toward the door. > Gortok got up and followed. Flipping through his instruction manual. >'Thor's hammer,' he thought to himself. 'If Blade is that tough, I need some >heavy spells, preferably long distance...' And they left. Arcadio, who had drifted away for a few moments to converse with the newly- arrived deaf woman (whose name I forget right now), glanced up at the sound of his name and sighed. Turning back to the woman, he signed, *I have to go...they may need my help. Will you be all right here until I return?* --Ben