Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: arsmith@lamar.ColoState.EDU (Alan Smith)
Subject: [KV] Why yachting may not be that bright.
Message-ID: <Sep18.175745.80866@yuma.ACNS.ColoState.EDU>
Date: Sat, 18 Sep 1993 17:57:45 GMT
Keywords: king vayne

[ADMIN: This happens after KM's next post.  Or the one after.]

  "Yes, Madam." Said Bandcrist, being dismissed from his mistress' presence.  
Being the butler of a High Merchant had it's good and bad points, and one of
the good points was that you got evenings off for no apparent reason every
now and again.  As a matter of policy, Bandcrist was not fond of giving
underlings the evening off, and almost never did it himself.  He did have
to admit, however, that Ms. Loa's approach to personell management did
have it's good points.
  Bandcrist retired to the butler's traditional refuge, the pantry.  The
fact that the ship he was on did not have a pantry did not phase him in the
least.  Bandcrist was one of those butlers which it took a goodly amount of
work to phase.  In short order Bandcrist found himself in the hold, uncorking
a bottle of Andrian wine and pouring himself a glass.  He settled himself down
to some well-deserved solitary relaxation.  
  Solitude did not last long, though.  He had sipped half his glass when in
came a storm of Ms.Loa's servants, and some off duty crew as well.
  "Gadzooks!" Said Jobel, the animate Bismanian cook, "Tarma's let you off
too?"
  "Ms. Loa has given me the evening's freedom from my responsibilities, yes."
Bandcrist stated, "and I would appreciate it if you would not refer to her by
her first name."  Bismanians had this annoying habit of calling everybody
by their first names, with no respect for their natural place in life.  When
they could not figure out someone's first name, they tended to give them
embarassing nicknames, to wit:
  "Aw, c'mon Stinker, don't be a stick in the mud.  I'm whipping something up,
anybody want some?"  Jobel began to rummage through the foodstuffs.  Menace
to discipline and corruption on young Newmeanorans that they were, the Bisms
of Bandcrists aquaintance were very good improvisational cooks.  Bandcrist
watched in his genially paternal manner while Jobel began mixing and slicing and
the young ones began to discuss nothing in their customary excited manner.

  A very good...er...something in his belly, Bandcrist could be found in
the stern chains of the ship later that evening, gazing back to the east, then 
turning south.  Bandcrist had been something of a scholar in old lore of the
dozen kingdoms, and knew that somewhere to the south there was supposed to
be the legendary continent of Alpha, which had sank beneath the sea.  In the
fading light, he imagined he could make out the shoreline.  After a quiet
chuckle at the idea, he disentagled himself from the ropes and stepped
off to port.
  He soon realized the folly of his ways, for he had been in the portside
chains to begin with, and a step further to port put him in the water. 
He resolved not to tell anybody what he did, a fairly easy resolution to keep
since the ship was swiftly sailing away from him...