From alt.pub.dragons-inn Thu Jan 27 09:26:19 1994 Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Path: netcom.com!netcomsv!decwrl!concert!news-feed-2.peachnet.edu!gatech!howland.reston.ans.net!noc.near.net!oz.plymouth.edu!b_gerber From: b_gerber@oz.plymouth.edu (Styx) Subject: Re: Walter (repost) Message-ID: <1994Jan26.193454.19874@oz.plymouth.edu> Organization: Plymouth State College - Plymouth, NH. References: <1994Jan26.193428.19750@oz.plymouth.edu> Date: Wed, 26 Jan 94 19:34:54 GMT Lines: 103 Walter Takes on the City The stranger dressed in the sombre grey cloak, riding the sombre grey mare trotted through the rainy city of Generica. Occasional passing wizards wiping rain from their beards, would glance at the stranger, or more precisely, at his sword. The strangers sword hung in a beat up scabbard, on his back. It looked completely ordinary, and non-magical in every aspect. It was this fact that was currently confusing a group of theives and cutthroats that had been trailing the stranger since he stepped through the city gates. The fact that his money pouch was hanging on a loose string by his side had kept them following him. The stranger wandered into the market, which on days like this was populated only by beggars and merchants of magical weapons. He stopped rather abruptly to admire a halbred that was glowing softly, with a sign beneath it proclaiming "Kills Giants with One Blowe!" The stranger failed to notice the small mob of thieves and assassins that had come to a strangling halt behind him. Most of the beggars in the square, apon seeing the majority of the crime figures known in the city suddenly enter the scene in a confused knot, packed up there small stalls and cups, and headed off to safer parts of the city with much haste. Even Beng the Blind forgot to walk into a wall and excused himself out of the way of a small faction of the watch who themselves were headed out of the immediate area. The stall keepers were drawing down their curtains, and preparing to close up until after the carnage. All except the owner of "Magick Weapons and Stuffe" who was wieghing the possibilites of a sale over that of getting killed. He had just come to the conclusion that getting killed would not be in his best interest and besides, there were plenty of adventurers who would love to by his wares at another, more profitable time, when the stranger spoke to him. "Excuse me good man!" said the stranger cheerfully from under his wide brimmed hat. "Erm... yes?" said the stall keeper, who was thinking that 'Erm...yes' would not make a very good ephitat. "What exactly is that weapon good for?" said the stranger, pointing at a small silver dagger. The mob of cutthroats had by this time huddled together and were in the midst of an animated discussion. A few assassins had detatched themselves from the group and were climbing various walls and readying various instruments that would hurl very sharp objects at high speeds with pinpoint accuracy. The merchant, who was ready to say anything to get him out of the immediate area, also noted that the stranger had pointed at the knife he had brought with him to eat his dinner. "It ahh...slays dragons, quite well actually. What." The stranger was eyeing it carefully. "How much?" he asked in what he thought was his most calculating voice. "What?" asked the stall keeper, who was in the midst of pulling his cloak on over his head. "It's um, 500 gold." The group of thieves had stopped talking now, and a small envoy of them had detatched and was coming forward, headed by Rik Tus, President of the Thieves Guild Inc. They were not smiling, and many of them were fingering knives and swords. The stranger still did not notice. "May I see it?" Asked the stranger. "Um, yes. Sure." Said the stall keeper, beads of sweat running down his forhead. He grabbed the small knife and handed it to the stranger. The stranger took some time in examining the dagger. Just as the contingent of theives was about to draw level with his horse, he reached back and drew forth his sword. A few seconds later, after the world had failed to be filled with screaming and the sounds of limbs chopped assunder, the stall keeper peered up over his counter to see the stranger comparing the small knife to his sword. A few of the mob were poking their heads out from around corners, Rik Tus was hiding under the strangers horse. 'Would you look at that!" Exclaimed the stranger "They were both made by the same person. It says 'Made in Tiawane'. How much did you say this was again?" The stall keeper now sensing impending profits, quickly stood up and said "For that dagger, which is used to slay dragons of all sorts and types I'll charge 700 gold." This last was said with a smile. The stranger raised his left eyebrow slightly. "Just a minute ago you said 500. Are you trying to pull a fast one on me?" The stall keeper looked at the stranger, looked at his sword, looked at the group of thieves re-organizing themselves at the other end of the market square and said "But for you friend, I'd sell it for 450...?" "Well..." said the stranger, who fingered his money pouch. He then seemed to do a series of quick calculations, and said. "Right, you've got a deal." The stranger reached into his pouch, extracted four small gold pieces, and put them into his shirt pocket. He then untied the pouch and tossed it onto the counter. "450, like we agreed. Have a nice day!" said the stranger, re-sheathing his sword. He then moved his horse into a slow walk and soon dissapeared into the mists. The stall keep let out a long sigh, and reached for the money. Unfortunately, there was a muddy, bedraggled and very disgruntled president of the Thieves Guild Inc. blocking his way. -- _______________________________________________________________________________ "This is funny, really. Imagine how Jesus would freak if a Jesus freak handed him one of those dog-eared pamphlets." ---Harlan Ellison _Blood stone_ -------------------------------------------------------------------------------