From alt.pub.dragons-inn Wed Aug 24 14:18:58 1994 Xref: netcom.com alt.pub.dragons-inn:7576 Path: netcom.com!netcomsv!decwrl!src.dec.com!crl.dec.com!jac.zko.dec.com!leggy.zk3.dec.com!orb!not-for-mail From: Andrea.Evans@Orb.Nashua.NH.US Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: [Housestorm] A Learning Xperience Date: 23 Aug 1994 20:26:32 -0400 Organization: Duchy of Wabesylvan Obspauk Lines: 122 Sender: news@Orb.Nashua.NH.US Message-ID: <33e43o$hau@orb.nashua.nh.us> References: <1994Apr6.064811.73767@yuma> <33dr1b$os4@orb.nashua.nh.us> NNTP-Posting-Host: orb.nashua.nh.us ADMIN: The cast, characters, and techie crew of the [HouseStorming] Thread: Alan Smith ..........Palandun Lintesul Spider Boardman .........Selna Chris Meadows ..............Andrea, Sheryl and Jay. Andrea Evans ......Kadrys Penny Hutchison ............Leah and Errol Stephen Hutchison ......Miro Alfvaen ..............Eowyn/Teonyl Wolvie ..............Lance and Blaze Invaluable help: Colin Sebastian Roald Heather Loresch Kelly J. Cooper Liralen Li All characters are property of their respective authors, and this story is copyright 1994 by Andrea Evans. Permission is granted for the distribution of this story on the usual alt-net channels and for archival but all other rights, including repost, are reserved to the author. Background: Just after the storm Andrea and Sheryl bought a house which proved to be loaded with traps. So they gathered together the rest of the team to help them discover the secret to their new home. They split up into two teams after leaving the ballroom. This continues the progress of the team heading toward the master bedroom (begun in "Half a league, half a league..."). =========================================================================== The last of the lights kindled hours ago by Selna's trap-detection spell, faded from the handle of the bedroom door. Errol straightened, and turned, bowing toward her and Teonyl. "Ladies first..." he smirked. Teonyl was tempted to take him up on it, not out of bravado, but because she felt sure, despite his mocking manner, that he wouldn't have made the offer if it wasn't safe. But in the same moment Selna chuckled, saying "Nono, _kind_ sir. Age before beauty." At that, Errol glanced sideways at Kadrys, and drew breath to speak, but grinned and stayed silent. His gloved hand caressed the doorknob, and it turned with an anticlimactic click. Errol poked his head round the door, assessing the room at a glance. The others, waiting in the hall outside, heard him snicker suddenly. "What did Andrea say her landlord's name was? M. Valdemar perhaps?" Kadrys leaned forward, peering over Errol's shoulder. "Now that's what I call a late sleeper." He pushed the door fully open, and as the two thieves moved further into the room, Teonyl and Selna caught their first glimpse of what lay beyond. The master bedroom was a wooden-panelled, windowless space, with few furnishings apart from a massive carved double bed. And the bed was occupied. The withered corpse of the master thief lay sprawled across the bed. Teonyl caught her breath, only now picking up a faint, faded reek of mold and dust and rot. The body was so old that the worst of the decay was years past, and the leathery skin had dried and shrunk tight to the bones. Errol glanced back over his shoulder at Teonyl, his round eye catching the light in a sudden sharp glint. "What do you think?" She needed no further prompting. Another test, then. Very well. Her lips tightened and she surveyed the room in a detached, businesslike way. Beside her, Selna's voice rose and fell in the clear song of elvish spellcasting. Teonyl paused, waiting for the telltale glimmer to pick out any further traps. Nothing. She released the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. "Well, uh, apart from the lack of unpleasant surprises... present company excepted," she added with an ironic nod toward the corpse, "there are no hidden rooms off this one, there's no spare space in the layout for them." She glanced at the dragonet perched on Selna's shoulder. It chirruped its agreement at her. She took a few slow steps toward the bed, hesitant not from fear but from recent experience in this house of traps and more traps. She stared more closely at the body. Its left hand was clawed against its shrunken chest, and its head was thrown back in an agonised contortion. Heart attack? Who knew. Its other hand, crooked as an eagle's talon, was stretched out over its head. Toward the wall? Teonyl stared at it, straining her sight. Nothing, not a crack. She tapped on the panelling, listening for any hollowness. Solid as stone. Not the wall. The bed? She stepped closer still, staring at the carved wooden frame of the bed, the tall bedposts, spiralling in mockery of a unicorn's horn. The bedhead, carved in a simple repeating pattern of crosses and circles. She leaned forward until her nose was almost against the wood. Circles. Crosses. Nothing. Nothing. ...Wait. There. Tiny marks of abrasion, almost too faint to be seen. Marks surrounding a single element of the repeated pattern. Teonyl stepped back, looked over at Errol, and allowed herself a smile, as she pointed toward the particular piece of carving. Errol nodded. "Heh. Yes. 'Hugs and kisses' go together, but it's still X that marks the spot." He spoke no word of praise. He did not need to. The grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes was enough. Teonyl raised her eyebrows, moved her finger a little closer to the carving. "Should I?" Errol shrugged, nonchalant as always. "It's your discovery, it should be your honour." Without hesitation she pressed it, trusting in Selna's magic, in Kadrys' skills, above all in the ability of Errol as a mentor in the Art. Under her touch, the X sank into the headboard with the faintest possible click. And, all over the silent house, there rose a running tide of tiny noises, snaps and sproings and twangs of arcane mechanisms, as traps mundane and mystical were at long last secured. *** Interlude *** "Hugs and kisses, uhh, nowait, noughts and crosses, that was it. Hey remember that one? How 'bout we play another round of that?" A man grins eagerly across a gameboard that is a living, turning world. His grin is met by another, changeless grin. A skeletal hand is extended, and gives an emphatic thumbs down. "Oh fooey. You're just sore cause we tie in that version. Spoilsport."