From: jcp@trident.usacs.rutgers.edu (Jonathan Petersen) Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: Re: [Ga] Hawksholme... Message-ID: Date: 12 Mar 93 15:10:54 GMT References: Camp. Mist. Cave. Zebron looked around. Yes, definately some sort of translocation spell. Caught the rest of the party, too. Damn. Innate magic resistance must have failed again. The group scanned their new surroundings. Some with the bewilderment and wonder of their first translocation. Others looking for an advantage if they were forced to battle here. Others with confusion as to why this bald, tatooed hermit summoned them, only to be answered by the form of Garriot, lying in some sort of shimmering silver aura behind the hermit. The eyes of the dark elf took in all this. The silver aura was interesting. >The old man nodded to them and spoke: "Greetings," he said, in a surprisingly >strong baritone voice, "I am Jaru." The spell had left Zebron closest to the hermit, so he decided to answer. "Well met," responded the drow mage, "I am Zebron Twilight, the Silver Sword of Eilistraee. Myself and my companions -" (gesturing towards the rest of the group) "- are friends of the man behind you." Sitting down in one of the chairs in the sparsely furnished cave in order to cut some of the tension, he continued: "You have apparently just summoned us here. If I were you, I'd start explaining. Make it quick, and make it good. You'll find us much more willing houseguests if we know what in Limbo is going on." Zebron tried to sound confident. His words were not a threat. Just a statement. Old hermits tended to ramble, in his experience, at least. The elf wanted answers, and he wanted them soon. He was a man that armed himself primarily with knowledge, and not knowing had him at a disadvantage. "Please, what is going on?" -jak