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From: mca@christa.unh.edu (Marc C Allain)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: Intro:  L'ai Ch'i [LC]
Date: 21 Jun 1994 15:07:19 GMT
Organization: University of New Hampshire  -  Durham, NH
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ADMIN:  L'ai Ch'i is a new character.  He looks to be an oriental
        gentleman of middle years and (to those sensitive to such
        things) has an intense aura of magic about him.
       
STORY:
     
     The stranger found himself walking along a dock in an unfamiliar
city.  He had no clear memory of how he had gotten there - only a
vague sort of impression of having been walking for many hours.  As
these thoughts arose, he tried desperately to avoid the cliches of
'where am I?' and 'who am I?'
     A brusque voice broke into the stranger's reflections.  Looking
up, he saw a rather large, poorly-dressed man standing perhaps five
yards away in a challenging pose.  His words meant nothing to the
stranger.
     "I'm sorry, I don't understand you," the stranger said.  Getting
no reply, he repeated it in a dozen other languages, trying not to
wonder which languages they were and where he'd learned them.  Not now!
     Still no communication with the bully who began to advance, one
hand held out demandingly while the other curled into a fist.  -Great,
a mugger - the stranger thought.  He began patting his clothes in hopes
of finding something to appease the mugger with but came up empty.  No
wallet, purse, pouch or even pocket.
     He spread his hands appealingly, making empty pocket gestures and
saying 'I have nothing,' over and over in various languages.  Still the
mugger closed in.  The stranger looked around for help, but there was
no one nearby.  The closest ship was fifty yards off and the crews would
never hear his cries over their own noise.
     The mugger made to grab one of the stranger's waving arms.
     A moment later the stranger found himself standing over the mugger,
holding one of the bully's arms levered up and back and his foot planted
firmly in the prostrate mugger's armpit.  He was so surprised that he
inadvertantly let go.
     The mugger leaped to his feet with a roar and charged at the stranger.
     This time he ended up face first in a pile of discarded rags and
other rubbish while the stranger tried to figure out just what he'd
done to the fellow.
     A third charge came.  And a fourth.  And a fifth.
     By this time, they actually had attracted the attention of the
dockworkers.  The bully closed slowly and tried various punches and
a few crude kicks, throws and grapples.  The stranger always found 
himself moving just enough in just the right way to avoid the attack,
now and then catching a punch and using its momentum to spin his
opponent like a top.
     An audience grew around them, cheering, booing and, the stranger
noted in a spare glance, betting.  It was no longer a matter of money
to the bully, but one of saving face.  He was easily twice the size and
many years younger than the stranger, but was being humiliated very
publickly.
     Finally, one of the mugger's lunges was turned into a headlong
dive which took him into a piling and knocked him cold.  The dockworkers
laughed and cheered (except for those who had bet on the mugger) and
many threw a few coppers onto the dock at the stranger's feet.  After a
moment, the stranger decided that having money was probably a good idea
in a strange city.  He pulled off his cap (not realizing it was there
until he did so) and collected the coins.  Hopefully there was enough
to buy a few drinks and maybe a meal.

     Someone tapped the stranger's shoulder.  He spun, hands raised,
but saw a smiling face a long arm's length away.  The man babbled a
bit in an unfamiliar language which the stranger thought might be the
same as the one the bully had used.  He shrugged and said, "I don't
understand," wishing he knew at least what language he himself was
using.
     The smiling dockworker pointed to himself and said, "Longo.  Longo."
Then he pointed to the stranger and babbled what sounded like a question.
     My name?  He wants to know my name.  Fine.  "My name is... my name
is..."
     "Myname?"  the man repeated.
     The stranger shook his head and thought furiously.  - My name is,
my name is, my name is -
     "L'ai Ch'i!" he shouted triumphantly, startling the men gathered
around him.  He calmed down and pointed to himself.  "L'ai Ch'i.  LIE
CHEE," he pronounced carefully.  Longo repeated it and smiled.


-- 
Marc C. Allain          MCA@CHRISTA.UNH.EDU

Prophet Marcus of the First Church of Mad Scientist