From alt.pub.dragons-inn Thu Dec  8 08:12:56 1994
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From: wwp@acpub.duke.edu (William W. Parker)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: Mourcrair + Sirivex
Date: 8 Dec 1994 08:50:35 GMT
Organization: Duke University, Durham, NC, USA
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	Late in the evening, the door swings quietly open and a man of medium build dressed in dark red robes enters.  The hood is down and all can see his dark hair and beard.  He appears to be in his mid thirties, but the touch of grey in his beard may indicate an age somewhat older.  He steps into the room, leaving the door open.  For a moment it seems that he does not plan to close it, but after a few seconds another figure enters the room and closes the door behind him.
	The second figure is a large reptialian humanoid.  He has green scales and a long tail.  He carries a large boar spear in one hand, and a scimitar hangs from a scabbard at his waste.  It is a lizardman.  Dressed in leather armor and bearing his weapons, the lizardman gives the impression of a formidable warrior.  Interestingly enough, however, he wears a collar made of intertwined gold and silver threads around his neck.
	The bearded man turns to the lizardman.  "Sirivex," he says.  "Procure us a meal and some beverages.  I will take wine tonight."  The lizardman nods and heads off to the bar, while the bearded man takes a seat at a nearby table--away from the multitude of dark corners.  He smiles broadly to the others in the common room and waits for Sirivex to return.
	The lizardman moves to the bar, more graceful than one would imagine from a creature his size.  "Two dinners of whatever is good tonight," he orders, his voice only slightly betraying his origins with a hiss or two.  "Also, a glass of Verencian Wine if you have it.  If not any good red will do.  Also, if you have good ale from Mintoc-Agraiz, I will have that.  If not, give me the house special."  Spilling some coins out of a purse, he pays the proferred price.  The coins are Muragonese, but they are of ro

ughly the same weight as the local currency.  After paying, the lizardman rejoins his comrade at the table.
	"Mourcrair," the lizardman begins, "I don't see what we are doing here.  We've been following rumors for months and they have gotten us nowhere.  I tell you, we should have headed south.  Perhaps we should speak to that sage again.  What was his name?"
	"Aiksandre."  Mourcrair, the bearded man, answers.  "And you remember what we had to go through to find him, don't you?  And besides, what he told us almost got us killed."
	Sirivex grunts and says nothing.  They both wait in silence until their food arrives and then begin to eat.


*End of First Post*