Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Path: netcom.com!netcomsv!decwrl!spool.mu.edu!agate!msuinfo!uchinews!ellis!djb6
From: djb6@ellis.uchicago.edu (Dennis Brennan)
Subject: [NTY] Vessel of the Scarlet God
Message-ID: <1993Aug17.032834.13551@midway.uchicago.edu>
Sender: news@uchinews.uchicago.edu (News System)
Reply-To: djb6@midway.uchicago.edu
Organization: University of Chicago
Date: Tue, 17 Aug 1993 03:28:34 GMT
Lines: 94

(Recollections of Gunther Toodie's ordeal in Parahan)

For a few moments after the two women accosted me I was deprived of
all sensory input.  At last I believed that I was regaining consciousness
but some nagging instinct insisted that my environment was naught but
a delirious illusion.  Nevertheless, I will endeavour to recollect what
I experienced then.

I believed I saw the Il-Shar standing defiantly before me, bearing some
immense standard adorned with ribbons, glyphs and a huge ram's head atop
the pole.  The Il-Shar opened his mouth and laughed; as he did so the
ram's head came to life and belched out a cloud of grey-green smoke which
all but obscured my vision.  I fell to the ground as if pulled by unseen
hands emerging from the earth itself and lay immobilized there.  The
stars overhead commenced a hypnotic kind of dance, at last all merging into
one infinitely bright light and descending rapidly.  The young woman with 
the wild eyes stood at my feet and lifted her hands to the heavens, cupping
them as if to catch a snowflake.  The falling object which was thebined
stars dropped into her outstreched hands like a child's ball.  Once she
gripped the glowing thing her body became bathed in a bizarre amber light.
Her garment appeared to melt and she kneeled down before me, reaching out
to touch my face with illuminated fingers.  

With one hand she firmly pushed my chin away so that I could not see her
as I lay they prone.  I felt her descend and sit or lay upon my legs, her
soft weight on my body.  I felt her hot breath on my throat and recoiled
in fear when her tongue brushed against the base of my neck.  With a sharp
nail or claw she made a deep scratch beginning at my chin and continuing 
down my navel, crossing the scar of the wound that theag had made with
the dagger.  

Suddenly she dropped entirely atop me, her two arms atop mine and her
eyes staring directly into my own.  Her small but strong hands clasped
around my fingers and her breasts rubbed against the sore line in my
chest as I entered her.  She stared deep into my eyes again, her long
black tail whipping insanely in the air above.  The fur on my chest
grew damp with the blood that flowed from my wound as she continued
to press me down with her feline bulk.  I yowled and tried to extend my
own claws so that I could slash at the enemy that held me prone.  With
supreme effort I rolled her aside and growled threateningly, one lion 
against another.  The hair on both our backs stood on end intimidatingly
as we screeched at one another and pounced.  My tail lashed out
as we wrestled, trying to blind the other great cat or knock it aside.
But my foe outmanoeuvred me and pinned my back to the ground again.  To
my horror, the other cat suddenly lurched, head downward, into my body.
The head of the other cat pressed against the fresh scratch in my chest,
then with a mighty push from leonine shoulders entered my body, followed
by the rest of the cat.  The wound in my chest closed after the cat was
inside me, leaving me alone and exhausted on the ground.  I rested
fitfully for a while, stunned by the experience.

When I awoke, I found to my satisfied surprise that I had been cleaned up
and dressed.  I lay on some kind of cot in a spacious tent.  Near me sat
the woman twhom I had been referring to as "the hag".  In this light, however,
she looked different- almost kindly.  She wore a garment similar to the 
frock in which I was dressed.  Around her neck was a pendant bearing an
emblem of a two-headed lion.

I asked her what was going on and what had happened to me.  Slowly, in
halting language, she stated that we were in Conclave, a kind of annual
gathering of all the various warrior tribes of Parahan under the auspices
of the Il-Shar.  The purpose of this Conclavve was not entirely political-
its origins were aan ancient Graimicreligous observation honoring the
birth of a god known as the Ch'Par.  The Parahanders had revived the
worship of the Ch'Par and had accordingly taken the title of "Shar",
meaning "brethren of Ch'Par."  Indeed, "Il-Shar" itself meaant something
along the lines of "hero of the brethren".  Under the leadership of the Il-
Shar, the tribes were beginning to consolidate into a more unified fighting
force under the banner of Shar.

She then revealed that I was an unwitting participant in these strange
rites.  By means of union with some sort of supernatural creature I was
to be the "vessel of the Ch'Par", or the Scarlet God.  In three days
time, at the conclusion of the Conclave, the Scarlet God would "come
forth" from me by means of some hocus pocus and I would resume status
as a slave of the Il-Shar (though somewhat more distinguished by way of
my role in this ceremony).  

The woman also stated that it was under the banner of the Conclave that
the Il-Shar received visitors from "other tribes", by which I supposed she
meant foreign emissaries.  I hoped vainly that perhaps word had gotten
back to Pashar of my predicament and that the Amber Crescent would arrange
for some kind of ransom.  To my anguish, an entirely different agent would
arrive with altogether contrary plans for my disposition...


nose was 




-- 
Dennis Brennan
djb6@midway.uchicago.edu