Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: jcarl@jabba.ess.harris.com (Darvos Metnar) Subject: [BBD] The plot thickens Message-ID: Date: Thu, 18 Mar 1993 18:36:57 GMT [ADMIN: Much thats go to Mike Sander and the Dreamer who contributed a significant amount of the following post. I loved it all, and hope you do too.] Lissa awoke fairly early in the morning, and made her way downstairs. She saw Darvos there as usual, but in an _unusual_ place; he was lying on a couch, asleep. Obviously his activities the previous night had tired him to such a degree that he hadn't had the energy to make it upstairs. Unseen servants had removed his shoes and covered him with blankets, but had not the strength or organization to carry him to his bed. Lissa let him lay there, even though it might cost her a hot breakfast. She did so because, as she reminded herself while munching on a piece of fruit, on the streets she would have been lucky to get old crumbs. Again she found herself thinking of her friends on the streets, and how jealous they'd be of her situation, and how they'd be without. She decided she would go to them, to receive the complements, as well as to bestow them with some of the food she could have in bounty, and heck, just to see them again. So, after eating, she packed some food in a bag and prepared to leave the house. Darvos still slept on the couch and she twirled the pretty necklace Darvos had given her when she could walk again. He had said it had sentimental value and he wanted her to have it. She smiled and headed out the door for the Low City. In her still-innocent mind, she didn't think of the need to "bother" Darvos by waking him, and even if she _could_ write, she wouldn't have left him a note. For she knew how to take care of herself. Such are the thoughts of an innocent girl who would generate more interest than she could possible know. * * * * About a half an hour later, in another section of Generica, a crystal ball glowed in a room occupied by a robed man. That fellow touched the ball with his hand, and another man's face appeared within it. A voice emanated from the ball, its raggedness matching the face's well. "Master. I have found the girl you are interrested in. She has the aura you told me to look for. She reappeared in Low City moments ago... , and she's alone." The receiver of this information turned his face away from the ball, and smiled. It had taken some effort to construct this type of communication network, particularly so that unwanteds like the Mage Guild couldn't intercept transmissions, but in cases like this it was worth it. But lest this minion feel he was overimportant, or expect a reward, it was best to put him in his place. "First of all," a soft but authoritative voice responded as the robed figure turned around. "do not call me _Master_. It sounds trite; if I adopted it, the next thing you know, I'd add a 'Dark' in front of it or some such flippancy. "What you _may_ call me is BBD. It is practical, being my initials and all, while providing the correct amount of respect-causing anonymity. Besides, you _would_ probably slaughter my true name, It wouldn't surprised me. "Secondly, it is not _I_ who is interested in the little girl, as much as one of my more important employees. I _do_ thank you for that minor tidbit, though. You are dismissed". BBD ended the conversation, grinning with the knowledge that the person on the other side of the line would be feeling basically lucky to be alive. With that affair concluded, BBD paused to think about the situation. He _might_ be interested in the girl, if Velric's plan was a success. That process would allow him to continue his own activities faster, with the same amount of safety. For that was almost as important as conquest for BBD, doing so without attracting undue attention. It wasn't bad enough that this town had a high population of nosy adventurers. Or that it had a powerful Mage Guild -- it might be warring right now, but he knew that a 'common foe' like himself could easily unite them. But there was also the Great Mother, who usually prevented others from dominating Generica by absorbing them. But right now, the Great Mother was in a weakened state, allowing someone like himself to "claim" some of the land while they could. So, if this girl, either in form or spirit, could help him with that, it would be to his benefit, to put it mildly. Yes, on something like this had potential for, it was best if he went himself. He shouldn't depend on his minions to do everything anyway, as that was the chief fault for many a fallen 'evil' fellow. * * * * Lissa continued at a brisk pace, part of it caused by excitement and the rest by a ingrained fear of what this place could hold in the way of danger. She was almost to a place where at least _some_ of her old friends could be found, but between here and there lay an open, deserted part of land, altered to discourage intruders -- with its bleakness and eerieness -- from reaching their hideout. And despite being familiar with it, it was doing its job well on Lissa. She pressed on, knowing that stopping would only make it worse, and turning around would defeat her purpose. Then a voice filtered from an alley, and physical manifestation gave credence to her terror. An image of a disgraceful-looking man, one with a wild look in his eyes, blood-stained clothes, and a menacing knife in his hand. "Well, what have we here?" he said, smiling and emitting a bit of cackle that Lissa couldn't help but chill against. "A little girl, _all_ by her lonesome? Well, I can surely fix _that_." As he stepped from the alley towards her, Lissa recognized from tales and loose descriptions -- for that was really the only way children heard of him -- that this was the Gutt Man, someone who killed children like herself for no particular reason save perhaps pleasure. Both her fear and the Gutt Man's hand tried to grip her and force her to stay put, but she shook them off, and started to run as fast as she could. The Gutt Man laughed hysterically, inwardly enjoying it when his prey forced a little chase, and followed after her. The Gutt Man licked his lips as he chased the little girl down another alley. His thoughts ran wild with visions of her torture, all to please his undying hunger. In truth, the Gutt Man was mad. He was as mad as you can get without sitting in a corner and shaking all day. This is the worst and most dangerous madness, especially for the Low City children. How many lives had he taken? He didn't know or care. As the pile of tiny corpses grew, they fueled his desire for more. He had become an artist, dealing out pain in new and interesting ways, each more horrible than the last. His knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on the knife. He had taken it from a man who just plopped in from another world, but instead of landing in the Dragons Inn, he had landed in the midst of the Low City... at midnight. Needless to say, 30 seconds later, the Gutt Man left the scene of the murder with a smile calling back "Welcome to Generica" to the unhearing body. Oh yes, the knife...it was sharp...so *very* sharp. Sometimes the Gutt Man wondered if he was being watched over by some dark diety who fed on the pain of others as he did his foul work. "Take what you will Dark Ones," he had once shouted to the moonless sky, "I'll have their lives, you have their souls, and the worms will have the rest." Followed by a fit of hysterical laughter. That laughter returned to him again as he chased the girl around a corner. She stumbled slightly, banging her leg into the side of a cart. The Gutt Man grinned a smile of black teeth. She was limping now. Soon, she would go the way of the others. He would teach her a final lesson in exquisite pain and shove her through death's door to eternity. * * * * Darvos arose, yawned, and looked around, surprised to find himself on a couch. He supposed that Elvish ale and staying out late had drained him more than he thought. He opened a curtain, and blinked when he saw how high the sun was. It was perhaps closer to lunchtime than breakfast. Darvos looked around for Lissa and was surprised, in that Lissa wasn't around. Darvos went upstairs, to see if she was still asleep or in the bathroom. When he had no luck there, he went back down to the kitchen to look for signs of her there. He saw that some of his fruit and bread was missing, along with a container of juice. Since the house was protected from thieves, it didn't take long to realize who had taken it. But why? Actually, that wasn't too hard to determine either. If Lissa had left the house with food, it was likely that she'd taken it to the Low City. She had been saying something about missing her friends and such. It was what she called "home" and the only part of Generica she knew well at all. Darvos quickly gathered several items that might be useful, including his magical sword he had worn when he use to be a warrior, and headed out. Darvos worried, because even though he wasn't good a divination spell, the ones he had cast to determine Lissa condition after the vampire attack showed that she could be in great danger. How it would manifest itself was unknown to him, but he did know that he condition as an innocent child tainted by the essence of a vampire was useful for certain maniacal rituals of magic. He couldn't help but worry about Lissa, and only hoped his skills at tracking -- albeit vampires -- would help him find her before anything dangerous did. * * * * Little Rat was quite rich nowadays. Over the past two months of the Cold Time, she had become an excellent story teller. Her story was always the same, the story of Prince Elfman and Princess Elsetree. She had helped the prince save his princess from the evil King of Spiders. She told of his kindness; he had given her a dress and some food without asking for anything in return. Of course, no one in the Low City believed her, but that didn't matter, as long as they dropped a few coppers on her blanket. Currently, she was in the midst of her story... "An' den da funny little man ganged up with us an' we went to the place with the pretty ladies. I sneeked in an' saw dis guard an' one a da pretty ladies doin' the bad thing. Da guard heard me an' chased me all over the house..." "...an' Elfman runned an' saved you," one of the gathered children said excitedly. "I were gettin' to dat part... Anyway, da guard was mad an' was 'bout to kill me with his sticker when Elfman came to help me. He pushed da guard down da stairs..." At this point, all those gathered heard two noises that turned their blood cold. The first was the scream of a young girl. It came from about a block away, but all those gathered could clearly make out the absolute terror in the scream. This point was driven further into their souls by the sound which followed. It was the hysterical laughter of a man that no one would mistake for sane. "...the Gutt Man..." wispers spread like a brush fire among the gathered crowd and then a silence fell over them. They looked at the ground or at a suddenly interesting pile of horse manure, but they did not look at each other out of fear and shame for not helping the girl. Suddenly made bold by her own tale of her brave adventures, Little Rat stood, paused for a moment, and ran off toward the direction of the chase. As she ran, she passed several adults who must have heard the sounds as well. They, like their children, immediately found something else to do. After all, it was not *their* problem. >From the intersection ahead, she saw the girl turn the corner and run closer. Knowing that the Gutt Man would be close behind, Little Rat hid behind a barrel and grabbed a stray plank of wood. Then, she waited. Her heart beat loudly in her ears as the adrenaline flowed. She thought back to a time when the Gutt Man had been chasing her through the city streets and no one came to her aid. The girl passed the barrel; Little Rat began counting ...one...two...four! With all her strength, Little Rat swung the plank of wood at shin level, catching the Gutt Man squarely on his right leg, just below the knee. His momentum carried him another five feet before he landed on his face. The Gutt Man rolled over and grabbed his leg. Blood trickled down his face in a steady stream from a cut above his left eye. When he caught sight of Little Rat, he forgot the chase, the pain in his leg, and everything else. For months, he had been searching the Low City for this child and now he had found her. * * * * Darvos had no idea how he was going to track Lissa down in the Low City. It was a warren of back alleys and dark doorways. The buildings were old and a built up upon each other cause the Low City to be a Labyrinth better than any Evil king could desire for his dungeons. Then Darvos remember the necklace he was going to give to his fiance 25 years ago. Lissa had found it when she could walk again after the vampire attack and Darvos had gifted it to her as a recovery present. He knew that necklace well. He search the ground quickly for a stick or something he could split. Finding a small twig of sorts he split it with the edge of his sword he had taken with him. It now looked like a divining rod. It was a relatively easy spell and he cast it on the twig and it began to twitch and vibrate until it aligned itself with the object he desired. Straight through that building there. Damn thing! Trouble with simple spells is they were stupid. Darvos started to wind in and out of the Low City's maze of alleys, slowly closing in on the necklace. A short while later Darvos felt he was getting closer. It was hard to track, because Lissa kept moving. And from what Darvos could figure out by rough triangulation she was moving fast. His heart was beating faster in agitation, when he heard the scream of terror. He looked up in worry "That was Lissa!". Steeling himself to concentrate on the spell, he was surprised to find the spell glamor had worn off. A second scream was heard and Darvos took off running. -- Joe Carl Jr. "It ain't what a man don't know that makes him a jcarl@jabba.ess.harris.com fool, but what he does know that ain't so." -- Josh Billings