From: scott@athena.mit.edu (Scott D Bradburn) Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: The return of Firgun. Date: 15 May 1993 18:18:20 GMT Message-ID: <1t3c5cINNqrk@senator-bedfellow.MIT.EDU> Firgun was in heaven. The dungeons under Glorshanned Keep were nearly bursting with rare and magical fungus. The prisoners even acted like they cared what Firgun was saying. "Wow. That's quite impressive. How much would you charge me for your teeth?" asked Firgun. "You can't have my teeth! They're mine. I'm rather attached to them," cried a rather nervous inmate. "The attachment can be remedied. I'll pay you a fair market value. The grey swamp lichen that is growing on your teeth is the finest I have ever seen. I absolutely must have some of that, and it'll be damaged if I scrape it off your teeth." "Look, I need my teeth to eat the tough bread they serve down here. Without it, I'll starve." "Tough bread? Why don't you eat elsewhere? The Dragon's Inn has very good bread, at reasonable prices." "I'm locked in here you idiot! Just leave me alone. You can't have my teeth!" Firgun sighed and left the cell. A raspy voice called out from a nearby door, "Little gnome, I know where some very fine Hulkhoganus Gigantae can be found." "Really?" asked Firgun, looking happier already. "Where?" "I must show you. Just open the cell, and I'll lead you there." "Oh, okay. What's this sign mean, 'Do Not Open Until Doomsday.'" "What? No, that says, 'Do Not Open Until Dunesday.' That's an archaic naming of the weekdays. It means the fourth day of the week. Since today is the fifth day of the week, it's after Dunesday." "Okay. One moment and I'll have you out of there," said Firgun. From a pouch hidden deep inside his cloak Firgun extracted an very well- kept set of lockpicks. A few seconds later the locked clicked, and Firgun opened the heavy door. A middle-aged man stepped out. "Thanks for releasing me you fool! It's time for me to exact my revenge on the men who imprisoned me here." "Fine, just lead me to the Gigantae mushrooms and then go do whatever you want." "What? No, there are no Gigantae mushrooms. And I guess I'll have to kill you so you don't warn my enemies. Nothing personal," said the man as he lunged to strangle Firgun. His hands closed on empty air as Firgun took a sudden step backwards at the last second. "Er... no mushrooms? That wasn't nice of you. I'm really tired of people telling me, 'I have some of this, ha ha, I was lying, now you die' again and again. It's getting to the point I can't trust anyone anymore," said Firgun as he dodged several more lunges at his throat. "Stand still you slimy kobold! You're just making this harder on yourself." "Kobold!" cried Firgun, coming to a stop. "I am not a Kobold, and I wouldn't be slimy except I've spent my past two weeks in a sewer. Furthermore--" Firgun was cut off when the prisoner finally managed to latch on to his throat and began squeezing. He didn't stop trying to talk, but the sound stopped coming out. "Gotcha! I don't even think anyone will miss your running mouth." While dodging the prisoner, Firgun had managed to grab a pouch from his cloak, which he now held out near the man who was strangling him. "What's this? Money? You can't buy your life, I'll take both. In fact, Ah-Choooooo!" In the middle of his diatribe, the villain sneezed rather violently causing a large puff of powder from the pouch Firgun was holding in his face. As the powder fell over Firgun and his enemy they both disappeared from sight, and Firgun managed to struggle free. "What, ah-choo! was that stuff?" cried the now invisible villain. "ah-choo! It's sneezing, ah-choo, powder of disappearance. Ah-choo! Great stuff isn't it?" "Where are you, ah-choo! dammit? Let me see, ah-choo, you, so I can kill you." "How about some other time, I'm out of here," said Firgun in between sneezes. "No you don't. I can follow your sneezes." Down the twisted corridors, two sets of footsteps could be heard, one made by a small, lightweight sneezing creature, followed by a large, heavy, sneezing being. The chase continued up several flights of stairs until a door burst open on the ground floor, and one of the guards heard a sneeze. "Who's there?" he said. No answer, but another sneeze is heard across the room. "Hey!" shouted the guard to several companions nearby. "There's an invisible man in here sneezing." Normally they wouldn't have believed him, but they had heard the sneezing come from nowhere, too. "He must have escaped from the dungeouns," said another. "Get him before he gets out of here." "He's around here somewhere," said one. "I just heard him." Another sneeze. "No! He's over h-- He's choking me! Get him off!" said the guard, as his voice suddenly took on the distinct tone of someone being strangled. Two guards rushed to his aid, found the invisible figure, and pulled him off their comrade. "Gotcha," said one guard. The figure was pulled off and secured him in a cell. "We'll find out who you are, as soon as that spell wears off. When we do, it'll probably be a death sentance for attempting to kill a guard. You should have just left when you had the chance." The only response was a growl followed by a loud sneeze. Meanwhile, Firgun returned to the Dragon's Inn. By the time he arrived, both the sneezing and the invisibility had ended. "Hello, everyone. Did you miss me?" he asked. No one seemed to notice him. Firgun looked around, and noticed Bakr talking to someone, and walked over to him. "Hello, Braker. Nice to see you again. Mind if I join you two?"