From alt.pub.dragons-inn Thu Apr 28 11:49:36 1994 Xref: netcom.com alt.pub.dragons-inn:7227 Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Path: netcom.com!netcomsv!netcomsv!amd!amdahl!pacbell.com!ihnp4.ucsd.edu!usc!cs.utexas.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!news.intercon.com!news.pipeline.com!malgudi.oar.net!sun!vax.cns.muskingum.edu!hsexauer From: hsexauer@muskingum.edu (Rapunzel) Subject: [Legacy] `Nine fathom deep....' Message-ID: <1994Apr26.110526.1@muskingum.edu> Lines: 108 Sender: root@sun.cns.muskingum.edu (Operator) Organization: Muskingum College Date: Tue, 26 Apr 1994 15:05:26 GMT [ADMIN] I am having a hard time keeping up with the story and my work at the same time, but I felt I needed to get _something_ out. I'd wanted to finish this before I left for the summer, but that's not looking like it's going to happen. I'll try. The skiff Chandra had provided was perfect for their purposes. It was a low affair, powered mainly by the river's current and the vigorous poling of the travellers. They had left their remaining horses in the care of Chandra's thieves, albeit not without some hesitation on the part of a few members of the group. Kieriah had only laughed and firmly plucked the leads from their hands to transfer them to the waiting volunteers. With their packs and provisions loaded, they had set out that morning on the swift river, trying to make up for lost time. Aleric stood next to his brother in the stern where the elder Lyorn guided the skiff's helm, and the younger prodded the river bottom every once in a while with one of the long poles. Jaerodyn couldn't help but stare at his brother every so often, wondering what the goddess had said to him. Aleric had said only she had come to him, and finished her healing of his injury. The breeze blowing past them was brisk, as the seasons continued toward the winter. Autumn had barely taken hold of the land, and the foliage was just starting to blaze forth in all its glory. Elcoran was lying at the edge of the skiff, trailing his fingers in the cool water. The bright morning sunlight glinted off his hair, making it seem almost translucent. He sighed as he stared down into the murky water. Just above the stockade the water had been a crystal blue shade, but had changed gradually until it was now the present greenish brown. Elcoran could feel the sickness of the water, and was trying to comfort the spirits of the water sprites. The elven lad glanced covertly at his uncle, to see if he was watching. Durstrin had his head turned in Elcoran's direction, but his eyes were focussed somewhere on the shoreline, scanning for danger. A quick look around the companions showed that no one would see him if he tried to help the sprites just a bit. Elcoran began humming quietly in an intricate melody that seemed to blend with the sound of the running water. With his fingers, he traced certain runes and symbols on the surface of the water. Those runes remained visible on the surface as impressions on the water while the lad hummed. In that regoin, the murkiness of the river lightened and tried to spread. Elcoran smiled faintly as he ceased humming. The sprites were a bit better now. He was drawing his hand back into the skiff when a ripple washed over his runes, erasing them. The grey eyes of the elven lad narrowed as he studied the effect. That wasn't supposed to happen. The ripple crossed the area, obliterating each carefully scribed rune, and the water muddied again. Elcoran dropped a hand back into the water to try again. Reaching from the river, a tentacle wrapped itself whiplike around the youth's wrist and pulled. Elcoran gave a startled cry and started to fall in. Tierge and Laurenth, nearby, heard his warning and both grabbed at him. Laurenth secured a hold on his belt and braced herself to hold him back, while Tierge pulled at his shoulders, trying to help him free his wrist. Several more tentacles lifted out of the water and groped for something to snatch. "Look out!" cried Laurenth in warning to Jaerodyn and Aleric in the stern where tentacles were groping around their ankles unnoticed. The two Lyorns looked down in time to move their feet away from danger. Jaerodyn shipped his pole and drew his blade, slashing at the tentacles. Aleric kicked at them, unable to release the tiller lest they run afoul of the shore. The valeman loosed his axe and kept watch for an assault on his side of the skiff. There we now slimy appendages raising from the water on all sides, for the most part ignoring the skiff and aiming for the people aboard. Ruel grimly swung at any that came too close. "It's a kraken!" he called. "I'd be willing to bet there's only one and he's directly underneath us. I had heard they don't bother boats, only swimmers. Wonder what woke him up?" Ruel lopped off the end of one tentacle and kicked the piece back into the water, where three more closed over the twitching fragment and pulled it under. The kraken didn't seem to know the fragment was a piece of itself. Elcoran, still held by the kraken, paled a bit but kept silent. He knew it was his fault, but as much as he'd like to, he couldn't tell the company what he had done. The kraken was very strong, and held him fast. It was taking all his strength and Laurenth's to hold him on the skiff. Tierge was sawing at the tough scale on the tentacle wrapped around his wrist. The thing didn't seem to feel any pain! "Aleric, steer for shore! We can try to force it to attack from one side if the water gets too shallow for it," Durstrin called to the Lyorn warrior. Aleric nodded and leaned hard on the tiller, forcing the rudder to move against the bulk of the kraken below. Slowly, the skiff turned inland and inched toward the shore, carried mostly by the tug of the current. All those on board the craft were kept busy fending off the advances of the creature, and failed to notice the black lump crouching on a tree limb ahead on the shore. It kept its wings furled and its eyes closed to a slit, avoiding revealing its presence. -- Heather Sexauer Muskingum College hsexauer@muskingum.edu Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats. -- H.L. Mencken