Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: clayton@austin.ibm.com (Clay Colwell) Subject: [ex-TW] Eski wakes up? Message-ID: Date: Sun, 16 May 1993 18:38:07 GMT Once again, Eski shook his head. The buzzing in his ears shrank to a minor whine as he held his head in his hands, elbows leaning on the table before him. "What happened? Ixnaphior? Moria? Amachiak?" He looked around the Dragon's Inn, then incredulously at the table before him. He was standing on his stool, as he remembered, but no one else was there. No tall, rangy fighter. No cool, soft-spoken mage. No Amachiak, no Chikcha. No parchments laid out before him... With a yelp, Eski snatched the pouch from about his neck, swiftly opened it up, and nearly dived in as he searched within it. His arms waved as they made broad passes, clunks and clatter coming from within the pouch. "Whew! *Here* are the blueprints! And that time-space regulator restraining reed, and...but what happened then? Where did every- body go? Granite?" The bird just cocked its head, blinked one eye slowly in Eski's direction, and went back to nibbling on a small piece of melon rind that had been discarded on the table. Eski again shook his head. "This is a strange place, Granite. Well, let's find out what's going on," he said as the sounds of music and laughter, coming from outside the Inn, finally regist- ered in his ears. He leapt down from the stool and walked a few feet to an adjoining table, where he tapped a dwarf, his beard in his ale, on the shoulder with his dragon-clawed staff. "Excuse me, please; could you tell me what's going on outside?" The dwarf looked up blearily and squinted down at Eski. "Whah? You don' *know* whash goin on? 'Tis Regine -- Gingera -- Ginerika Day! Ish a big party or sum'tin. Why doncha go OUT- SIDE 'n fine owt?" The dwarf mumbled some more and stuck his beard back in his ale. "A party! Marvelous! Let's go outside, shall we, Granite?" The bird burbled a complaint, but hopped up on Eski's shoulder. The two of them walked out into the street. The sky above Generica was bright and spark-filled, as large displays of pyrotechnics arced up into the deep blue. Sprays of multi-colored smokes and shimmering lights danced in the expanse, their light gleaming and reflecting off of goblets and ornamental masks as merrymakers walked, jigged, and cavorted in the avenue. Eski looked around and saw a clump of people gathered about a street mage raising iridescent flowers from the cobblestones. "Another illusionist, my friend!" Eski exclaimed to Granite. "Maybe we can get some pointers!" Eski started off toward the display. Before he had a chance to get 50 feet, though, he was bumped into by a careening clown, dressed in motley and greasepaint. His face had been painted in the visage of a grinning kobold, with sharp false teeth and an mask of an elongated doglike muzzle strapped on. "Oh, pardon me, sir! This is *such* a festival, don't you think? But I see no drink in your hand! Here, enjoy some of my wine!" A skin of liquor was pressed into Eski's hand. He sniffed curiously at it, then took a sip, then two more. "You like it? Good! Feel free to enjoy the rest of it. I've plenty more!" The clown skipped and frolicked as Eski took more sips from the skin. The liquor slipped down his throat easily, collecting in his stomach like a pool of liquid fire, discomforting, yet exhilirating. An odd gleam came into the clown's eye as he looked Eski up and down. "Why, what a fashion statement we're making here! But you could do so much better than *copper* to limn your clothing!" "But I *like* copper," said Eski, his tongue feeling a little thick in his mouth. "Copper is *wonderful*! Did you know that I once lived in a place where copper was more valuable than *platinum*?" Eski waved his arms in emphasis, and stumbled a bit as the wave went a little too wide. The gleam in the clown's eye turned a reddish hue. "So you *like* copper, eh?" His voice shifted from gay to wheedling. "Perhaps I could arrange for you to get some *more* copper: heaps and heaps of it. Would you accept that?" Eski's eyes grew bright. He started to say "Yes", but doubled over in pain before it reached his mouth. His stomach heaved, and the liquor from the clown spewed forth on the stones before him. At the same time, a voice rang in his head, "Stop! Don't believe it! It's a trick! Take me out, that I might smite it!" Eski stumbled and fell, his stomach twisted, his senses dizzy. The clown's visage shifted again, from grinning to predatory. "Why, what's the matter, small gnome? Are we ill? Are we feeling poorly? Let me help you." The clown stretched forth a hand, a gnarled, scabrous hand, to grab Eski's shoulder. The voice still rang in Eski's ears: "TAKE ME OUT, for the love of all that's good!" Eski's hand shook as he pushed weakly away at the clown's hand. He felt about in his robe with the other, finding the slit and reaching down to his ornamental greaves, grasping and edging out his short sword, the source of the voice. As the blade came free, the pain in Eski's stomach vanished, and he felt strength enter his frame. The clown began to back away, the paint and mask smearing across his face, the reddish gleam in his eyes becoming a pair of bloody red pools. "Use me!" cried the sword. "Strike down the demon!" "Demon?" cried Eski. "It can't be! Demons wander this city?" "Don't argue!" yelled the sword in his ears. "Strike!" Eski started toward the clown, blade ready, as the paint and costume of the clown deliquesced and melted into its body, now exposed as a loathsome, warty mass. "Not so fast, my perceptive gnome!" it hissed. "Let me show you what you *truly* face. Then may you SURRENDER!" The demon rose and grew, wings sprouting from its back, its teeth elongating, an enormous reptilian tail slithering out and swaying. Eski backed away, held by fear. Granite squawked and complained, but hid itself in Eski's hood. The demon continued to grow and shift until it filled half the broad avenue, its wings stretched across the divide, its form that of a mottled grey dragon, disease-pocked and slimy, its teeth sharp and dripping with venom. Eski backed to the far side of the avenue and huddled against a wall, frozen in his fear. -- Clay Colwell "If homosexuality is a disease, then let's all call archmage@vnet.ibm.com in queer to work." - Robin Tyler IBM Austin, TX Disclaimer: This is *Clay* talkin', not IBM.