From alt.pub.dragons-inn Mon Jan 30 15:08:20 1995 Xref: netcom.com alt.pub.dragons-inn:8097 Path: netcom.com!ix.netcom.com!howland.reston.ans.net!swrinde!sgiblab!rpal.rockwell.com!news.Stanford.EDU!not-for-mail From: tolsen@leland.Stanford.EDU (Tanya Ann Olsen) Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: [Cernborn] First time at the Inn Date: 27 Jan 1995 15:15:00 -0800 Organization: Stanford University, CA 94305, USA Lines: 88 Message-ID: <3gbupk$ljh@elaine19.Stanford.EDU> NNTP-Posting-Host: elaine19.stanford.edu A man marched down the street, meticulously avoiding the mud puddles left by the morning rain, as if afraid of getting the slightest hint of mud on his boots and clothes. His behavior was certainly odd since his clothes were obviously old and travelworn. He glanced up at the sky: the storm clouds were gathering once again; it would rain again soon and hard. He hurried on his way, now anxiously looking right and left, but still avoiding the puddles in the road. As the sky blackened, a hint of lightening could be seen in the distance and the distant mumble of thunder reached the ears of the stranger. He swore under his breath and picked up his pace once again. As the first drops of rain came down, he spied the sign he was looking for: an inn! He sprinted for the doorway, barely making it before the skies cracked open with a huge clap of thunder. He stood just inside the doorway of the Dragon's Inn for a brief moment, clasping an object that lay hidden underneath his worn cloak, mumbling with his eyes upturned as a curtain of rain obscured view of the street. The stranger turned from the doorway and carefully closed the door behind him and inspected the inn. It had not looked extremely large from the outside, but to his surprise it held more than a dozen corners most of them filled with odd looking characters. As he inspected the room, he pulled out a bluish gray silk handkerchief and meticulously dabbed at the few drops of water that had managed to fall upon his skin. The stranger removed his cloak to reveal an extremely tall, but thin human dressed entirely in bluish gray. An object dangled from his neck on a chain that looked like a finely crafted pine tree. A two-handed sword rested in a scabbard across his back. He pushed aside a long sword belted at his waist to sit down at the bar. As Rowan Littlefair came up to take his order, he noticed that the stranger's right hand was curiously deformed. No, deformed wasn't right; it was more like it was a baby's hand on a grown man's arm. As the man noticed him staring at it, he withdrew his hand and lay it in his lap underneath the bar. Were those webbed fingers he saw? The light was bad and he couldn't be sure. He shook his head and shrugged. It did not matter anyway; he had seen stranger creatures than he had ever imagined since opening this place. A little extra flesh between the fingers and a deformed hand were practically negligible differences here. "What can I do for you?" Littlefair asked. "Wouldst thou have a room with a private bath available for the fortnight? Also, a tankard of ale and whatever meat stew thou hast prepared." He fumbled at his belt pouch with his left hand and laid a gold coin on the bar. Littlefair drew the ale and placed it before him. "The only room with a private bath is taken tonight, but you may have it the next. That'll be five gold per night for the room with a bath and three for one without." The man scowled. "That will not do. Wouldst thou be kind enough to speak with the goodman or woman who has taken it tonight and ask if they would consider moving with dinner and thy finest available room paid for with my compliments? I can pay in advance if necessary." Well, thought Littlefair, this was bordering on the very strange. Who was this man who dressed as a simple woodsman but acted like a lord and carried around a pair of finely crafted swords, he obviously knew how to use but wore no armor? "Eh..I don't know if they will agree, but I will ask. Your stew will be here momentarily." The stranger watched as Littlefair retreated into the kitchen, then swiveled on the bar stool to watch the goings on in the commons room while taking a careful sip of the ale so as to not dribble even the slightest amount on his chin. ------ Lord Captain Cernborn of the House of Ehrland ----- ADMIN: Cernborn is available for interaction in the inn for the next few days, please ask me before using him so that I can clue you into a few important particulars. I hope to have a character description written up in the next couple of days. If I've committed any faux pas, please forgive me and clue me in! It's been awhile... ;) ----- Tanya Olsen tolsen@leland.stanford.edu