Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: cmeadows@nyx.cs.du.edu (Chris Meadows) Subject: [AU] [Storm] [HouseStorming] Adventures in Real Estate Message-ID: <1993Apr7.175948.16900@mnemosyne.cs.du.edu> Date: Wed, 7 Apr 93 17:59:48 GMT ADMIN: This introduces the [HouseStorming] thread, called such for reasons which you will see vrey shortly. This installment takes place the day after the events described in the [Storm] thread. The storm is gone, and the rebuilding has begun. I am continuing to use the [Storm] identifier, because this post is also concerned with some of the storm's aftermath (and suggest that everyone do the same with similar posts). However, by no means should anyone who enjoys the storm take this to mean that they should wrap it up. I'm posting this now because I have to go home for the rest of the week, and so that people will have time to see it and respond. Oh, and whoever is keeping the Dragon's Inn bulletin board up to date, there is a bulletin board posting contained within. If you respond to the bulletin board posting, please email me a copy of the message you leave; I might miss it by accident. Okay, that's it! On with the show! Andrea sat in the Dragon's Inn common room sipping grapefruit juice and working on a Danish. She was watching Sheryl playing with Carson out of the corner of her eye. Carson would run up to her, bat at her leg with his paws, then scamper off again before Sheryl could get him back. As she watched this game of tag, Andrea also saw the busy activity going on in the street outside. Through the open doors, she was able to catch a glimpse of piles of lumber being carried down the street by busy workers. It seemed that the rebuilding process had already begun. One of the workers came in and ordered an ale, and Andrea asked him what was happening. "It's the Temple of Aditi's doin', 'at's wot it is," he said. "Them an' all the others. But they's the ones wot I'm working' fer." "Doing what?" Andrea asked. "Cartin' this 'ere wood, 'at's wot." He jerked a thumb out at the pile of wood sitting outside the door. "Them Buffers, 'ey're rebuildin' 'eir 'ouses, 'ey are. And 'ey let the Temple of Aditi pay for 'eir wood." He looked around and lowered his voice, as though about to reveal a secret. "And I 'eard tell 'at it took a lot to even get 'em to let the temple buy the wood for 'em. You know the Buffers, 'ey don't take charity from anyone." Andrea nodded. "Hey, Rowan--" She tossed him a silver coin. "This man's next drink is on me." She turned to him. "Now, why don't you tell me where the local Temple of Aditi is...?" Fifteen minutes later, Andrea and Sheryl walked down the Arcade of Unforgotten Heroes, toward the Temple of Aditi. Andrea was carrying Carson, who didn't seem to mind. It was a nice sunny day, blue sky, fleecy white clouds overhead--an ironic counterpoint to the previous day's weather. In fact, if not for the debris and rubble strewn everywhere, Andrea would have had a hard time believing that the storm had actually happened. As Andrea walked down the street, avoiding puddles and the remains of various buildings, she thought about what had happened over the last couple of days. It seemed that her life had finally been coming together--she'd made new friends, found someone who could remove Sheryl's curse (though not reverse it), and discovered new opportunities for self-enrichment. It had to be a sign. "I like this place," Andrea decided, and then said it out loud. Sheryl looked at her curiously. "Do you like Generica, Sheryl?" Sheryl tossed her head and whinnied vigorously. "Good," Andrea said. "Y'know, we're going to be living here for awhile, what with getting that curse removed from you and all. I think I might not mind settling down here. You?" Sheryl looked incredulously at Andrea, who got the feeling that if Sheryl could have spoke she'd have said something like, "Are you sure you're feeling all right?!" But after about a second, she tossed her head and whinnied even more vigorously. "Good. Then after we're done at the temple, we'll go on up to Glorshanned Keep and see what the real estate office has to offer. If they don't have anything, I'll check at that furniture store, whatever it's called. I think I can afford a decent home, don't you?" About five minutes later, Andrea and Sheryl were standing in front of the Temple of Aditi, Lady of Hurtful Love. As with the few temples devoted to Aditi that she had seen in other towns, this one was pretty plain, and it had Aditi's symbol, a silken whip, hanging above the door. Andrea sighed, and shuddered. Aditi's doctrine was that all love was hurtful, and thus it seemed that her priestesses went out of their way to hurt themselves through love. They had to give themselves to any man who wanted them, for instance. What a morbid cult. Andrea was truly glad that she'd had the help of two great men, Father Phylum of the faith of Issek and Guildmaster Robinson of the Selactican Thieves' Guild, to keep her from falling victim to her own sadness and coming to feel the same way as those who worshiped Aditi. But Andrea didn't really have anything against the church--they had done many good works in all the towns she'd been in. Even if they were, as some people charged, little more than prostitutes, then at least they were responsible ones--more than could be said for the red light districts in most places she'd been. Andrea knocked on the door, and it was opened by a woman who wore a miniature silken whip as a pendant about her neck. "Ah," Andrea said. "You must be Delmara. May we enter?" Delmara looked from Andrea to Carson to Sheryl, and her eyes widened. "A unicorn," she said. "That's a sight we don't often see around here." Andrea nodded, smiling. "I know." "Oh, yes, of course, come on in," Delmara said. "I mustn't forget my manners." "Thank you." They walked in, Sheryl acting subdued as she always did in a place of worship of any kind, Carson looking around and meowing confusedly. As Delmara and Andrea walked up the aisle, a young, thin girl in the dress of an acolyte came running up the aisle. "Mara, I finished--" Then she caught sight of Sheryl and stopped mid-sentence. "A--a unicorn!" she breathed. "Oh, it's so beautiful." She walked up, slowly, never taking her eyes off of Sheryl. "Oooh, can I touch her?" she asked. Delmara looked at Andrea, who grinned and said, "Sure, why not? Her name's Sheryl." The girl looked just a little older than Sheryl herself had been when the curse had come upon her. Andrea turned to Delmara, still grinning. "Sheryl loves kids, and kids love her. Let's leave them here...this way we can talk in private." "If you say so." Andrea and Delmara walked on up the aisle, leaving the girl kneeling next to the unicorn. "Hi. My name's Aitreni..." she was saying. When Andrea and Delmara were alone, Andrea reached into her backpack and brought out a bag that jingled. She handed it to Delmara, who nearly dropped it--it was heavy! "There's 200 gold coins in there," Andrea said. "I want you to use it to pay for the lumber you bought for the Buffers, and for any other storm reparations that you can do for the Low Towners." Delmara gasped. 200 gold coins was a larger donation than any the church had received in...in...well, in too long a time. Delmara did some quick calculations in her head. This would enable her to pay for all that lumber, plus perhaps enough new shingles to cover half the roofs in the Low City...Then reality caught up with her, and she looked evenly at Andrea. "Why?" she asked. "Let's just say that I'm doing an act of kindness and expect no repayment for it." At Delmara's startled expression, she grinned. "That's it, and I want to hear no more about it." Delmara shrugged. "If that is what you say." She thought it was more likely that Andrea was salving a guilty conscience, but she said nothing. With the matter thus closed, Andrea walked back up to where Aitreni was petting Sheryl. To Andrea's amusement, Sheryl's mane was now completely braided, her tail mostly so. Andrea giggled, causing Aitreni to look up with a start. "Oh, I didn't see you coming, ma'am." "Call me Andrea," Andrea said. She smiled. "What is it about unicorns and young girls, that whenever a young girl sees a unicorn, she has an irresistable compulsion to braid its mane and tail?" "I'm sorry," Aitreni began, "I just--" "No, no, no need to apologize," Andrea said. "I wasn't complaining, just making an observation. As a matter of fact, I kind of like it." Sheryl rolled her eyes in an expression that clearly said, "Oh, puh-LEEEZE," but Andrea ignored her. "Oh." Aitreni went back to her task. Delmarra, who had come to watch, felt her heart lift at seeing the girl actually half-smile. When she was finished, she stood back to admire her handiwork. Sheryl dutifully looked like she enjoyed the whole rigamarole. A few minutes later, they were on their way back up the street (after promising Aitreni that yes, they would come back soon). Sheryl nudged Andrea. It was obvious that she wanted Andrea to undo the braids. "Oh, come on, give me a break," Andrea replied. "I've got this cat to take care of. Besides, I think you look kind of cute that way." Sheryl snorted. After making similar donations at other temples, Andrea and Sheryl walked on up the street toward Glorshanned Keep. It took them a good hour to make the walk (especially with Sheryl stopping every so often to sniff at everything she saw). They walked back up to the arcade of fountains, where they found an unusual spectacle. Dozens of people were lining up at the fountains for water. Apparently their own sources had been wiped out by the hurricane. As she came up closer to the fountains, she saw how brown and muddy the water was. But these people were taking it just the same, because it was apparently all that there was. "Hey, what's going on here?" Andrea asked. One of the people carrying buckets answered her. "We need water...But all that's left is this." "Well, that we can fix," Andrea said. "Here, let Sheryl through." The people parted, albeit somewhat reluctantly, and then a great deal of chattering started as they noticed the horn sticking out from the braids on Sheryl's head. Sheryl advanced to the fountain, inclined her head, and plunged her horn in. There was a sparkling, shimmering disturbance that spread outward along the pool, and then all the mud was mysteriously gone. There was complete and utter silence in that line for the next thirty seconds. Then everyone else started yelling, "Hey, come over here!" "Do this pool next!" "Here! Here!" "Take it easy, there's enough of her to go around..." Andrea said. Fifteen minutes later, all the pools had been purified, and a very grateful crowd now filled their containers with fresh water. Andrea and Sheryl continued on up the street. The Mages' Guild had not been hit too hard by the storm, Andrea noticed. Or if it had, it certainly didn't show it. Across the street from the 'Guild, Andrea noticed, the library had undergone some unforeseen structural alterations. Namely, a large portion of the roof had fallen off. However, there were some people over there, most wearing voluminous, flowing robes, standing around the fallen roof part, raising their arms, and chanting. One man standing on top of the roof waves his arms as if supervising. The piece of the library's roof slowly rose into the air, oriented itself, and slid into place. Andrea could have stayed around to watch the reconstruction for another hour or more, but she knew she had a job to do. She continued on up the hill, toward Glorshanned Keep. When they finally reached the Keep, it took a little doing to find the Office of Public Real Estate--the reception secretary seemed never to have heard of it. But once Andrea flashed some gold around, the secretary suddenly remembered that there was an office that had something to do with real estate on the second floor. The Office of Public Real Estate was a cramped and crowded little place, with scrolls lying everywhere and a little bespectacled man sitting behind the desk with a quill pen. "What can I do for you, madam?" he asked as she entered. He didn't look up at her or Sheryl, he just continued scratching away with that pen. "I would like to look at your houses for sale." At this the man did look up. He noticed Sheryl, and peered over the rims of his spectacles at her. "A horse? We don't allow animals in here, young lady. I'm afraid you'll have to--" "She's no horse," Andrea said. "And if you want to get your hands on any of this..." She dumped a few scrolls of the man's desk and dropped a fistfull of gold coins onto it "then she stays." The man blinked twice at the money on his desk. "Very well, I'll make an exception. What can I do for you?" "I want to buy a house." The clerk pawed through all the scrolls on top of his desk, came up with one in particular, and passed it over. Andrea sat down and started to read, while Carson batted at a loose scroll on the floor and Sheryl sniffed curiously at the rug. The minimum price for all the houses seemed to be about 5,000 gold pieces, and the average size about 1500 square feet. Obviously overpriced for undersize. Andrea had read over the entire list twice, and still she almost missed it. But then she noticed the last entry on the list, in small print. It was a 150,000 square foot home, for only 5,000 gold! "Hey." She called the clerk's attention to the last entry on the list. "What's this?" He took one look and said, "Oh, you don't want THAT...it's been unoccupied for several years and is starting to show its age." "It can be fixed. But that still wouldn't make it this cheap. By all rights this ought to be at least a hundred times this much. What's the catch?" Andrea asked, fixing him with her steady gaze. "It...er, well, it's a Jonah." "A Jonah?" Andrea was familiar with the term, it came from the holy book of some obscure religion. "Why?" "Well, er, the house was built about, um..." He opened a drawer and pulled out an officious-looking scroll. "...twenty years ago, by Shalovere Darian, a, man of, ahem, less-than-savory means..." Andrea resisted the temptation to grab the clerk by the neck and shake the facts out of him. "Give it to me straight. Was he a thief, or was he not?" "Uh, ahem, yes he was..." "Ah...this is getting good." Andrea sat down, and now Sheryl was paying attention too. "Pray continue." "He, ahem, designed certain, um, safeguards into the building--" "Traps," Andrea corrected him. "This gets better and better." "Er, um, traps, yes," the harried clerk went on, "and retreated into it. From what I understand, he had tired of, um, the, how-you-say--" "Guild politics?" Andrea suggested. "Yes, that's it," the clerk says. "He, uh, ahem, wanted to get away from it all. To return to the subject at hand, once it was built he destroyed the blueprints and um, made sure the architects and contractors were, ahem, indisposed." Andrea nodded. That was the problem she would have had with building her own house; she couldn't kill innocent people yet she didn't want the plans or know-how to break into it remaining around either. "Good, good. Go on." "The house had, ahem, magical and nonmagical defenses. The only people who knew how to, ah, work them were Shalovere Darian and his manservant, Jarl. And, er, ever since Darian was killed by an assassin, and Jarl soon after, um eh, heh heh--" "Nobody's been able to get into the house," Andrea finished. "This is GREAT!" she said to herself. "I hadn't expected to find a deal this good. With my first five grand I can buy the house, and with the rest I can hire some people to help me clean it out. This is GREAT!" "Ah, ma'am, I would not recommend that you buy this house. It has killed close to twenty people who tried to take possession of it already..." "I'll be the judge of that," Andrea said. "And I'm sure I'm better at finding traps than they were. Hand over the papers." She began counting out platinum coins--more coins than should actually have fit into that small a satchel! "I'll sign them right here and now." The clerk seemed to be developing a nervous tic in the right side of his face. "I really don't think that's wise--this house by all rights shouldn't even be on the list any more. It--" "The papers, you obsequious toady," Andrea said, her patience almost at an end. "Here's your 5000 gold." The man sighed. "I tried to warn you. All right. In addition to the title form, I'll need you to sign these two disclaimers." "And what are they?" Andrea asked, looking them over. The man pointed. "This one is a statement that you cannot get your money back--this sale is final. This other one absolves our firm of all liabilities resulting from accidental deaths involved with this house." Andrea smirked. "Typical." She paused just long enough to read the fine print, then signed. Fifteen minutes later she and Sheryl walked out of there, with the deed firmly in hand. The clerk watched them go, then scribbled a brief note to his supervisor. It went, "Sold the Jonah again. Expect it back within a week or so." They'd made more money off that one house so far... Andrea checked the position of the sun. By that, she and Sheryl had just enough time to rent a horse and cart to go out to the house and see what they could see. It might be foolish, but then, it was now her house, she felt she at least ought to be able to inspect it. The house had the proportions of a mansion. It was situated atop Merchant's Hill, but in a location far removed from most of the other houses. Andrea took the time to appreciate the irony of a thief's home on Merchant's Hill, took a good look. It was a rather large home. Definitely large enough to live in comfort in, perhaps large enough for two or three or even four. It did look to be a bit out of repair, especially since the previous day's hurricane had torn off a lot of shingles and a few shutters, but that could easily be fixed. Even the gate hung on one hinge. It creaked when she pushed it open. Sheryl, mane and tail still in braids, walked up beside Andrea and looked inside. She glanced back at Andrea worriedly. "Don't worry, Sher," Andrea said. "I'm not THAT big a fool. I just wanted to take a good look at--" WHIZZZZZ--THONK!!! Andrea froze, as did Sheryl. Slowly, she looked around. And saw that a rather nasty-looking dart had embedded itself in the gatepost, about six inches away from where she was standing. Andrea stepped back, pausing only to slip on a thick glove and remove the dart for closer inspection. It was about four inches long, and the tip was a steel spike coated with some sticky-looking substance. Andrea was NOT about to touch it. Instead, she wrapped a handkerchief around it several times and stuck it inside a spare glove. She looked back at the house, its hanging door and broken windows seeming to stare back at her with the unsettling gaze of a bleached skull. "The dart gun must have been set in the door or a window, or something, and set to shoot people in the gate. But it's become a bit unsteady with age, so its aim is off. Hmm, that could mean that a lot of the traps might not work, which chould make our job a whole lot easier..." She turned, and walked back to the carraige. "Come on, Sheryl, let's go back to the Inn. I have an advert to post." An hour or so later, the following message appeared on the bulletin board at the Dragon's Inn: --------------------------------------------- ATTENTION ONE AND ALL!!! ANNOUNCING A HOUSE-STORMING PARTY!!! I have just purchased a house which is riddled with booby-traps, magical and mundane, and mysteries and secrets untold! I need brave adventurers who can help me unriddle its secrets and make it into a fit place to live! As payment, I can offer some gold pieces and a share of whatever treasures may lie within! After my house is rendered safe to live in, I shall then be ready to move in. I hope to host some sort of a party at that time. Please contact me at the Dragon's Inn if you are interested! --Andrea-- --------------------------------------------- -- Chris Meadows | Robotech/RIFTS/Palladium fanfic author/editor CHM173S@SMSVMA | They Might Be Giants about Star Trek aliens: CHM173S@VMA.SMSU.EDU | "Everybody wants prosthetic foreheads CMEADOWS@NYX.CS.DU.EDU | on their real heads!"