Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: aaron@atlantis.uucp
Subject: [SQ/MG]: A Summoning, And An Interlude In Pashar
Message-ID: <1993Feb12.185816.8662@atlantis.uucp>
Date: Fri, 12 Feb 1993 18:58:16 GMT


Characters Involved: Ornigan, Bronwen, the Kelsey; Juhlavi bes-Pelmaj, a
 messenger, a guard at Juhlavi's house, Elahmad(Juhlavi's majordomo)


"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Ornigan said again in
Bronwen's room as he arranged the candles.

She nodded.  "I checked with Littlefair, and he doesn't mind.  As long as
things don't get too much out of hand, magic in your rooms is permitted. 
Any violators will get a visit from somebody named Nightstalker."

"That's not what I asked," Ornigan said.  "I mean, are you sure you want to
break Remi out of prison?  I haven't been in this city very long, and I
might want to stay a bit longer without running afoul of the law."

"All you have to do is summon the Kelsey," Bronwen said.  "You can leave
then and say that you had no idea why I asked you to do it."

Ornigan sighed.  He could tell when Bronwen's mind was set on something,
and it was now.  He lit the candles and started preparing for the
summoning.

At the proper moment, Bronwen started chanting in her own tongue.  After a
minute, Ornigan could recognize the Kelsey's name that Mistletoe had
chanted weeks ago in slave quarters in Pashar.  He closed his eyes and
concentrated on sending his mind southward.

He sensed something stirring to the south as it felt the call.  He
amplified the call, aiming it directly at the stirring, and he felt it
moving towards them, slowly at first, then more quickly.  Then it
disappeared, only to reappear moments later much closer.

The window blew open and a shower of light entered, which quickly formed
into a woman's body.  Soon Bronwen stood in the middle of the circle of
candles, clad only in her own flesh.

"You might have warned me," the Kelsey said from Bronwen's form.  "As you
can see, I was a little...occupied."

"Assume your own form, Kelsey," Bronwen said.  The other Bronwen shimmered
and shifted into the form of what looked like a small girl.

"Anyway, I wouldn't be surprised if poor Juhlavi had a heart attack.  I
mean, I imagine he's not too used to his women disappearing in the middle
of things, if you know what I mean."

Bronwen flushed.  "I have a task for you, Kelsey."

"All business tonight, are we?"  The Kelsey sighed.  "Oh, all right.  What
do you require of me, O Mistress?"

"A pirate captain named Etienne-Remi de Revimer is imprisoned in the
dungeons under Glorshanned Keep.  I want you to free him and bring him
here."

"Geez, nothing easy, eh?  You think I've been here a lot, and knew what
Glorshanned Keep is like, and the prison and all that?  Well, I got news
for you.  It's a bit harder than that.  You got a map of this place or
anything?"

Bronwen faltered, "Well--no..."

"Well, then?  I could get lost or something.  No disrespect, Mistress, I'll
do it if you order me to, but it may take a while.  I somehow suspect that
you don't want this to happen during daylight.  How about you get some info
for me and we'll try this again tomorrow night?"

Bronwen turned to Ornigan.  "What do you think?"

Ornigan shrugged.  "If another day will not put an undue delay on your
plans, then I am for it.  Frankly, I would suspect that if we are sailing
out with an escaped criminal, we might want to break him out just before we
leave.  Wait until Radan and the others are ready to sail, and do it then."

Bronwen sighed.  "Okay, Kelsey.  But now that you're here, you might as
well stay."

"But what about Juhlavi?"

"To hell with Juhlavi!" Bronwen said.

***

INTERLUDE: Pashar

The messenger arrived to find the home of Juhlavi bes-Pelmaj in turmoil. 
He asked one of the guards about it.  After a suitable exchange of funds,
the guard said, "Master bes-Pelmaj died last night.  One of his slave
girls, who was with him at the time, is missing.  We think she may have
killed him, but we're waiting for a physician to find out for sure."

"May I talk with someone in charge of his household?" the messenger asked. 
"I have a message."

The messenger was soon brought before Elahmad, the head of Juhlavi's
household.  "Yes?  What is it?  We are a bit busy here..."  The fat man was
unconsciously wringing his hands.

"I'll come to the point.  Do you have a slave named Ornigan here?"

Elahmad's brow furrowed.  "I'll check, but I think we might have gotten rid
of that one.  I'll consult my books, though."

A little later--"Yes, here it is.  Gifted to the mage Amaan, the slaves
Ornigan and Alameda."  Elahmad, tongue loosened by a flask of wine brought
by a slave, sat back.  "I remember that purchase.  Master Juhlavi, may his
soul rest in eternal paradise, had his eye on a particular girl, and no
other would do.  She begged and pleaded that he buy her friends as well,
and eventually he gave in.  He was bewitched with her, he was.  That's this
Ornigan and Alameda--a young man, salt-and-pepper hair?--yes, that's the
one--and a tiny little slip of a thing, with demon-ears and grey hair."  He
paused.  "Funny thing.  Those two have been gone for weeks now, but the
other one--Bronwen was her name--was the one that disappeared last night."

"Coincidence, I'm sure," the messenger said easily, getting up.  "Thank you
for your help.  Oh, one more thing--where could I find this mage Amaan?"

"Oh, not in Pashar, that's sure.  Cardinal Xar is getting a bit down on
those sorts these days.  Don't blame him, really--make my skin crawl, they
do.  No, I recall that Amaan went northwards, up to Specifica or Generica
or somesuch place.  Good riddance, I say."

"Thank you again," the messenger said, touching his cap.  "May I see myself
out?"

"Wouldn't hear of it," Elahmad said.  "Here, you--escort this gentleman to
the gate.  Hope you find this fellow."

"Me, too," the messenger said.  He never liked to fail his Guild.

He'd been following this trail over most of the continent, it seemed.  The
last trail had led here to Rameshan, where this Ornigan had been sold as a
slave.  And now the trail led northward.  Would this be the end, perhaps? 
If he didn't have his messenger's vow to consider, he would have given up
long ago.  Two of his predecessors had already done so.  But he would not. 
One way or another, Ornigan would get his message.

He just hoped that this message was important enough to warrant all this
trouble.

-- 
---Alfvaen(Eagerly awaiting "October's Baby")
"Clocks don't bring tomorrow--knives don't bring good news."                       ---Bruce Cockburn
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