From alt.pub.dragons-inn Fri Dec 3 07:42:10 1993 Path: netcom.com!netcomsv!decwrl!concert!news-feed-2.peachnet.edu!umn.edu!msc.edu!mckinley.cit.macalstr.edu!mac.cc.macalstr.edu!wohnsman From: wohnsman@mac.cc.macalstr.edu Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: [inn] Intro new char: Dremara (in re: Mardan's post) Date: 1 Dec 93 21:59:36 -0600 Organization: Macalester College Lines: 196 Message-ID: <1993Dec1.215936.1@mac.cc.macalstr.edu> NNTP-Posting-Host: mac.cc.macalstr.edu Eine Kleine Nichtmagick (A little Bit of Nightmagic) [admin] An introduction of a character in a new, as yet unnamed thread relating to Mardan's post. Dremara copyright 1993, Wendy Ohnsman Mardan used courtesy of d. Mark Todd (sorry if I just butchered your name, Mark:) Any interested parties are encouraged to email Wendy, since she doesn't have Mark's address here, and she'll forward it to him!:) wohnsman@macalstr.edu ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The doors opened, but as they were just doors, no immediate hush fell across the room, although more than a few pairs of eyes followed the new entrant's progress across the room appreciatively. She had obviously been riding for a while, but that did not detract from her well shaped athletic build, or the good natured smile that she wore as easily as she wore her brown leather trousers,vest, and white blouse. Golden brown hair hung loosely knotted at the back of her neck and her green eyes sparkled like those of a child about to tell a marvelous new joke. She carried no weapons, but walked with the confidence of a woman who knew how to handle herself if trouble arose. Arriving at the bar, she pushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes with a hand callused by years of working with her father's horses. She smiled warmly at the barkeep as she arranged stabling for her mount and a room for the night, bartering the price down to as reasonable a level as she could. When all had been settled, she ordered an ale, then wandered over to the postings to see what was going on in this place. Her eyes scanned them quickly, coming to rest on the one telling of the Aurelian duke's son disappearance. She turned to survey the patrons, lifting the frosty glass to dusty lips. Her eyes settled on a man in black fighting gear, a crimson hawk emblazoned on his fatigues. Taking another swallow of ale, she approached the black haired stranger cautiously. When she arrived at his table, he looked up expectantly, as if he had been waiting for her appearance. She was startled by his icey grey eyes, emotionless save for the fire of vengeance that burned within them. She sat down across from him. A silence hung in the air between them as he appraised this newcomer. A moment later, she spoke uncertainly "So you're the one looking for that poor lost boy." He nodded, almost imperceptibly. She continued, even more dis- concerted by his cool demeanor than she was by his cool gaze. "What kind of man is this, this Pharzon, to steal this child, make him a pawn in some cruel game of ascension," she shuddered as she spoke. Mardan allowed himself a moment more of reflection. 'She seems sincere. I don't sense any decption from her. None of Pharzon's stink about her.' Deciding to trust this woman, he described the events leading up to his second arrival at Dragon's Inn. By the time he finished, his eyes blazed with a fury as intense as any of Pharzon's fire magic. The woman stared at his face, amazed by the change that had come over his features during the telling. As he recovered his composure, she looked at the card lying in front of him, a tarot card, the High Priestess. When she looked up again, his features had returned to their original calm state. "I am sorry for your suffering, and wish you luck in your mission," she said, rising to leave, I must attend to my horse, but I think that our paths may cross again. My name is Dremara, Mardan. I'll see you again soon." With that, she turned and walked out into the street. By the time she returned, Mardan was gone. ____________________________________________________________ Dremara sat uneasily in the stiff chair in her room. She did not allow herself the luxury of sitting on a comfortable bed, as she wouldn't be able to accomplish a thing asleep. She watched the lamp flicker, the only light source in the room. A soft wind blew outside, not nearly enough to rattle the shutters on the window. As she sat there, she turned her mind free, sending it out, slowly, into the corridors of the inn. A little simple detective work had allowed her to find out where Mardan's room was in relation to her's. Mentally she followed the twists and turns necessary of a building with nineteen corners. Finally, she saw the door. She reached inside and brushed his sleeping conciousness with her's. 'Good,' she thought, 'He's dreaming.' With that thought, she pushed her mind into the shimmering threads of the dreamweb and followed his path. As she got closer to his dream, the thread darkened until it was nearly black. 'I've not seen anything like this' she thought as she arrived at his dreamscape. Taking a deep breath in her material body, she entered his dream. ------------------------------------------------------------- Battle raged before her. Mardan, his sword and body gleaming, bathed in a radiant blue glow, was embroiled in fierece combat with several well armored men. Sword met sword as he dispatched his opponents bloodily. She cringed at the amount of anger he apparently kept hidden behind steel grey eyes. She turned herself ephemeral to avoid injury at the hands of an accidental blow. Mardan's attention focused solely on his enemies, she turned to wandering through the scene. The litters of battle surrounded her. Apparently, he had waged this war before. Bits of armor and discarded weaponry, even pieces of flesh and bone, lay scattered on the bleak ground. A roar of rage brought her attention back to the fighting. Mardan was now staring at a man in a black and red cloak standing at the center of a protective circle of flame. They became to speak in a language unfamiliar to Dremara. After a moment, they began to exchange blows. The man (she guessed he was Pharzon) brought down pellets of flame on Mardan who quickly raised his shields to avoid harm. Mardan retaliated with a blast of a type that Dremara, largely unfamiliar with magic, could not identify. Their actions were futile. They had fought this fight too many times before. Each knew what the other was capable of and how to best counter it. Dremara shook at the thought of the carnage that their battles must have brought about. She turned from them and returned her attention to the spoils of battle that were around her. Her eyes fell on an intricate dagger, the helm a dragon in flames made of ruby and emeralds. 'This should do nicely,' she thought, 'I've not seen its like in these parts before.' She picked it up, appreciating the weight in her hands. Taking a last look at Mardan, she released her hold on his dream node and found herself once more in the web. She travelled quickly to his room, then allowed her mind to drift effortlessly back to her. She forced herself to take the reentry easily and not rush it as she had in the past, only to end up reeling in pain and dizziness. She felt the shifting of conciousness as her mind returned to her material body. She kept her eyes closed knowing the terrible head rush that would follow if she hurried her actions. Her limbs took on their customary weight. Only one thing had changed in her posture since she had gone into Mardan's dream. Now she clutched a dagger in her right hand. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Mardan awoke the next morning, as usual still tired. He felt as though he hadn't slept soundly since Paul had disappeared. The dreams became more and more intense each time. Last night he could have sworn that there had been another being in the dream instead of just apparitions. Almost as quickly as it had arrived, though, it was gone. He'd found himself once more alone in his nightmares. Shaking off the dregs of sleep, he forced himself fully awake and prepared for another day of waiting for the right people to appear. Each day so far, he had gone away disappointed. He'd thought that the woman yesterday was going to offer her aid, but then again, despite her beauty, she didn't seem to have any skills necessary to his quest. In the end, though, it hadn't mattered. She'd simply disappeared like the others who could have helped. When he went downstairs for breakfast, he noticed her sitting alone at the table he had occupied yesterday. After he had gotten some food, he ventured over to her. At least if he was going to have to spend another day waiting, he could spend it with a sympath- etic listener. He sat down. She smiled and nodded to acknowledge his arrival, then continued with her meal of tea, bread, and fruit. They ate in silence. When both had finished their meals and pushed the plates away, she looked at him. "You look as if you slept poorly," she said, her eyes concerned. He nodded his agreement, then added "You look as if you slept well." Dremara laughed. "I guess I did, once I drifted off. I find that I am rarely bothered by dreams," she said, emphasizing the last part only slightly. Mardan raised an eyebrow only slightly. She allowed a grin to creep across her face before tackling more serious matters. "Are you still looking for people to assist you on your quest," she asked, purposefully keeping her eyes focused on nothing in particular. "Aye," he answered, "I've been here for a while now, but I've yet to find willing companions to rescue the lad." Dremara refocused her gaze, forcing herself to meet his eerie grey eyes with her emerald greens. "Are you quite certain of that," she asked as she reached beneath the table and took something out of the bag at her feet. She held the dagger out to him, hilt pointed in his direction to show the peaceful nature of her gesture. Mardan's eyes glued themselves to the dragon. He reached for it, hands visibly tense. "Pharzon..." he gasped, "You could not have seen this, known of it or its signifigance. None from these parts... Where?" He held the dagger to the light, examining it, realizing that it was perfect in every detail. A true fighter's dagger. "Where? The only place that it's been in this area. You should know it quite well, I imagine. After all, the only place that it exists in Generica is in *your* dreams," she said. He looked up at her and stared into her eyes. "I would join you, Mardan, in your search for the boy. As you can see, I have more than just my looks and horsemanship to offer to your quest, although I'd be that much more of an addition with a weapon," she said, gesturing subtly toward the dagger. He returned it to her and watched her return it to a sheath on her waist. The gems sparkled agaist her belt before she tuck her vest over it. "Wouldn't want to attract the attention of thieves," she added. He considered for less than half a minute. "Dremara, I am more than happy to have your help in my journey," he said offering his hand. She reached out and sealed their partnership with a handshake. "Until we find Paul," she said. "Until we find Paul." __________________________________________________________ And then there were two. Well, Mardan and Dremara will be waiting in the bar until a complete party is ready to take off into the wilds of adventure.... Until then, Peace and all that good stuff! WH Ohnsman