Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: wolf@cheshire.oxy.edu (Clinton Richard Wolf)
Subject: [L&S: Party [Lucas]]: An Arrival in Spite of Himself...
Message-ID: <1993Mar7.001853.20514@cheshire.oxy.edu>
Date: Sun, 7 Mar 1993 00:18:53 GMT

 [characters: Lucas, ...sage]

      "Well, what's this?" the blind drow said suddenly, perking up his ears
as sounds of drunken laughter and singing trickled from a nearby street...

      "I think it's a party! Come on, Father, let's have a look..." Without
waiting for a reply from his companion, he took off towards the noise, per-
haps a little more quickly than he might have had the man he was talking with
been better company.  

      Father Lucas watched him as he went, and would have shaken his head, if
he hadn't felt it an unneccessarily taxing activity. It was always the same
with archmagi... they would talk to him long enough to satisfy their curiosity,
and then take off again, usually at quite a rapid pace. He sighed deeply and
turned to go, but was surprised to hear the drow call back to him...

      "Aren't you coming?"

      Lucas shuffled around to face him, half-wondering if the mage was talk-
ing to someone else. No, the little elf actually seemed to be in earnest. How
depressing...

      "Excuse my impoliteness sir, but why bother? I'm sure I'm not invited,
and people generally aren't happy to see me at such occasions. I'm afraid they
don't hold much enjoyment for me, either. I believe I should get the same am-
ount of pleasure standing out here and freezing to death in the snow." 

      The librarian shrugged his shoulders. "Suit yourself..." He started to
walk away again, then suddenly stopped as though struck. Lucas watched list-
lessly as the elf turned around, revealing a wry grin on his thin features...
"Of course... I'm sure they'll be plenty of women there, Father..." he said 
with an exaggeratedly casual tone, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Yes sir,
plenty of young, nubile, single women, languishing in drunken stupors above
and beyond the call of discriminating taste... just the kind who might..."

      "Yes, yes, yes, I can see what you're driving at, sir," Lucas interrup-
ted. "And to my infinite chagrin and disgust, you have succeeded in baiting
your carnal hook, as I have missed too many opportunities to let this one pass
by. I was attempting to ignore it in the first place, but now that you've gone
and said it, I am left no choice but to attend this dismally social affair."
Lucas sighed and trudged up to where the mage stood, and the elf fell into
step with him again as they headed toward the noise, which as they rounded the
corner was matched by the blazing lights of the house which was its source. Lu-
cas stopped in his tracks, momentarily overcome with the thought of the horrors
to come within that awful hive of frivolous happiness. ...sage kept going, his
stride becoming more and more disgustingly jaunty as he called over his shoul-
der to the stagnated priest.

       "Avaunt, Father Murphy! Your cathedral awaits!"

       Lucas winced openly, then gave up and followed the drow. 

       "You really are a tiresome fellow, you know..." he called as ...sage
reached the household's entrance. But the elf merely smiled at him and ducked
inside, vanishing almost instantly in the chaotic jumble of beings within. Lu-
cas paused at that same threshold, steeling himself for entry into an alien
world that was so anathemic to him his body begged him to turn back before it
was too late. But his duty was more important than his own needs, as it always
had been, and always would be...

        "Yea, though I talk and I sally with the shallow and deaf, I will fear
no gleeful..." 

        And so saying, Father Lucas Murphy, Priest of Fecunda, squared his thin
stooping shoulders, and passed beyond...