Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: arsmith@nyx.cs.du.edu (Alan Smith) Subject: [Spinoff] Pilot episode. Message-ID: <1993Jul21.102807.20277@mnemosyne.cs.du.edu> Date: Wed, 21 Jul 93 10:28:07 GMT ADMIN: CALL FOR CO-AUTHORS. That means _You_. Will be willing to travel and pick you up. Other stuff: Expect updates for the Character Sumaries list, Directory, and Synopsis list in about a week, assuming I decide to fly with this. Begin semantic content: The convoy was eight days out of Orluccar. Specifically, eight days, five hours, and fourty minutes. The carriage had just pulled into it's camping place and the trail boss was coming around, doubtless to check up on the five occupants. "What can I do for you?" Palandun Lintesul, a young man from some island chain out on the great blue, asked the trail boss. "Nuthin." The boss answered, "I just came to tell yous that we're lost. Good-night." For three whole heartbeats nobody said anything, allowing the trail boss to start his escape. Then everybody in the cart started yammering. "What do you mean, lost? Hey, come back here!" Four of the carts passengers said, while the fifth one uttered "Rayeee! Get us unlost, now!" The trail boss was retrieved and established some facts. 1) They were eight days out of Orluccar with food for twenty if need be. 2) They weren't exactly sure where they were. 3) They'd sit here a spell until they figured it out. This time the T.B. really left and the inhabitants began to talk in two different groups. "That mean's we'll be stuck together for three extra days." Valasha, a concubine of one of the Silk Road Merchants, said. "Puddin?" Sir Rayon, graduate of saint Cuthbert's academy, adressed his seatmate, "We're going to have to stay here another couple days." "Three days with her." Sharn, a silk merchant from Orluccar replied to Valasha. "Shhh." Palandun said. "That's impolite." "Here? Days? With Them!?" Princess Lycra of Underhaven, to Sir Rayon. "They're dull and oaffish!" "Now puddin, that's not nice." Rayon. "Yeah, puddin," Valasha, "You'd better be nice to us, or we're going to, what was it, Sharn?" "Bury her in an anthill." Sharn volunteered his favorite. Lycra immediately set to whining. Rayon protested. "Ray's right, we can't do anything of the sort." Palandun said, "besides, there are no ants here." "Then we can sunbake her and eat her after a day or two." Sharn. "You guys are mean." Lycra, "Rayee, beat them up." "But puddin...." "I mean it! Now draw your sword or you don't get a kiss." There was a strangely harmonious metallic sound as Rayon drew his blade. He waved it threateningly and made grunting noises until Lycra commanded that she wanted blood spilt or else. Ray shrugged his shoulders and started to take a whack at Sharn. Palandun, ever the hero, had drawn his own sword and whacked the blade off rayon's. He stood with the edge pressed against ray's throat. "I'll never understand why you listen to her." He said. "Lyrca, Look out!" Rayon said. Animatedly pointing at... Sharn, holding Rayon's blade rather gingerly and advancing on Lycra. Palandun spun, chopped another six inches off the blade, and pressed his sword up to Sharn's throat. "Sit down." he growled. "Everyone." He gathered up the shards of the sword and pitched them out the window. "From now on, everyone is nice to everyone else, or they start losing appendeges. That means you, you, you, and especially you." He came close to whacking the nose off each one in turn, ending with Princess Lycra. "I always treat people the way their station has borne them." "Princess, where I come from" here everybody rolled their eyes at having to hear one of Palandun's haughty pronouncements on Bismania's virtues. "there is no 'Station' and everyone gets along just fine. It's the people not the title." "Tell my father that." She mumbled.