Path: netcom.com!csus.edu!decwrl!decwrl!spool.mu.edu!uwm.edu!cs.utexas.edu!swrinde!dptspd!TAMUTS.TAMU.EDU!rigel.tamu.edu!afj9838 From: afj9838@rigel.tamu.edu (JOHNSON, AARON FLEMING) Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: [Ynobe]:Introductions Date: 21 Sep 1993 20:08 CDT Organization: Texas A&M University, Academic Computing Services Lines: 104 Distribution: world Message-ID: <21SEP199320081885@rigel.tamu.edu> NNTP-Posting-Host: rigel.tamu.edu News-Software: VAX/VMS VNEWS 1.41 ADMIN: This is the introduction of my first character. I apologize if I use some of the NPCs too freely, but I needed to establish an idea of this person's abilities. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The sun was setting on Generica when he approached the Eastern Gate. It lit up the city in a brilliant shower of reds and oranges that made it seem aflame. Few people witnessed his entry into the city, for it was the dinner hour, and even most of the panhandlers and beggars were eating what meager food they had found that day. A tall man, and thin, he calmly strolled through the Gates and down Dragon's Lane. His hair was black, but his skin was very pale. He was dressed blue denim and black cotton. A pair of loose fitting tennis shoes covered his feet. Under a dark, woolen peacoat, a large leather bag was slung over his shoulder. His eyes were covered and protected from the sun by a pair of dark glasses. He wore no weapons. As he walked, he watched the city make the transition from day to night. His eyes drank in the sights while his ears took in the sounds. Occasionally, he would stop in front of a shop, where something had caught his eye, but he never went in. Instead, he would look through the window for a moment, and then continue. He stopped and bought a copy of the Examiner from a news imp, paying with a handful of coins brought from a pocket in his pants. As he perused the paper, reading the various articles that chronicled the activities of the people of the city and its surroundings, a wind sprang up. Lightly, it blew down the street, causing the paper to jerk and shiver in his hands. He turned, trying to place himself between the wind and the paper, but the breezes shifted, and the paper rustled and jumped with renewed energy. With an impatient shake of his head, he folded the paper and shoved it into the pocket of his coat. He turned and looked down Dragon's Lane, towards the center of the city. He stood motionless, save for the rise and fall of his chest, and the movement of his eyes. Deep within the bowels of the Shunned Center of Generica, something very, very old stirred. The Great Mother shifted and turned, its tentacles questing for some unknown target. It felt something. (Confusion...puzzlement...an unknown.)[WHAT ARE YOU?] *A traveller.* (Searching...thinking...identification.) [I KNOW YOUR KIND.] *Yes. You do.* (Anger...territorial infringement...demand.)[WHAT DO YOU WANT?] *Nothing. To pass in peace.* (Suspicion...mollification...acknowledgement of power.)[YOU MAY PASS.] *Thank you.* The man started walking down Dragon's Lane again after a few moments. "Don't worry, 'Mom'," he muttered to himself, "I mean you no harm. Yet." He continued on into the city, stopping in the Plaza of Glittering Steel. He slowly turned about in a circle until he found what he was looking for. He stepped up to the door of the Dragon's Inn, and then, after a pause, pushed the door open and entered. The regulars of the inn paused only momentarily from their dinners to acknowledge the presence of another visitor to the well-known establishment. The man strode across the room, and stepped up to the bar. The barkeep finished with the last customer, and then moved down to speak with the newcomer. "Welcome to the Dragon's Inn," he said. "Folks call me Littlefair. What can I do for you?" The man spoke in a mild tone of voice. "A large steak, a baked potato with butter, sour cream and cheese, a green salad, corn, and a slice of cheesecake. And, at the risk of sounding cliche, tea, Earl Grey, hot." Littlefair relayed the order to the kitchen, and returned, carrying a large mug of hot tea. The man placed a few gold pieces on the bar, and then reached into the pocket of his coat, and pulled out a small red cube. It had the emblem of a small dragon on it in black, and, as he unwrapped it, it became a pair of sugar cubes surrounded by red paper. He dropped the two cubes into the mug, swirled the contents, and then sipped the steaming liquid. An expression of sheer bliss formed on his face. "Thank you," he said, "I needed that." Littlefair said, "You don't look familiar. Are you a stranger to these parts?" The man put the mug on the bar. "In a way. It has been some time since I traveled through these lands, and I have never been able to sample the much heralded food and services of the Dragon's Inn. They call me Derek, Derek Ebon. Field researcher, assistant, and nephew to Ynobe the Sage." He extended his hand. Littlefair shook it. "Ynobe the Sage? Seems to me I've heard that name somewhere..." "He's still making a name for himself," explained Derek, "and really hasn't released many tomes to this date. I hope to help him change that, by assisting in the coallating of some new data." "So what brings you to Generica?" "A leave of absence. My uncle is currently transcribing a large batch of information, and when he's writing, he's impossible to live with. So I told him I'd be back in a month or so, and left with all speed." Littlefair chuckled. Sages, poets, and other writers were notoriously ill-tempered if interrupted while engaged in their livelihood, something he'd discovered some time ago. Even Listener could get antisocial if writers' block struck at a poor moment. "So you'll be needing a room?" he asked, anticipating the answer. "Certainly," said Derek, "But first, I am going to sit here, relax, and drink my tea." He sipped the tea, closing his eyes in obvious pleasure. "The whole world should take high tea. It would make it, on the whole, a more civilized and relaxed place." Littlefair couldn't help but agree. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Draco Draconis Eboni | "Do Not Attribute to Malice that which aka Ebony the Black Dragon | Can Easily be Accounted for by aka Aaron F. Johnson | Stupidity." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "I'm a Black Dragon trapped in a White Man's Body!!! YARK!!!" Nobody WANTS my opinions!!!