From alt.pub.dragons-inn Sat Mar 4 11:02:38 1995 Xref: netcom.com alt.pub.dragons-inn:8185 Path: netcom.com!ix.netcom.com!howland.reston.ans.net!math.ohio-state.edu!uwm.edu!news.alpha.net!mvb.saic.com!netnews.wku.edu!wkuvx2.wku.edu!hilanse Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: [CERNBORN] The Morning After... Message-ID: <1995Mar3.202113.1@wkuvx2.wku.edu> From: hilanse@wkuvx1.wku.edu (Wonko The Sane) Date: 3 Mar 95 20:21:13 CDT Organization: Western Kentucky University, Bowling Green, KY Nntp-Posting-Host: wkuvx2 Nntp-Posting-User: hilanse Lines: 95 A loud clatter awakened Athorbalo. She tried to get to her feet and didn't notice her pounding headache until she moved suddenly, and in doing so, lost consciousness again. A few moments later she awoke again and studied her surroundings carefully, while trying to remember the night before. She was in a cubical room about eight feet every direction. She stood slowly, trying to arrange her muddled thoughts. Athorbalo felt her head gingerly, trying to find the location of her wound. She couldn't locate any bumps or bruises, but found a small dart imbedded in the back of her neck. "Damn!", she whispered, thinking of her lack of caution. She cursed herself for not realizing that Gyles and Mi'cha were not the only ones listening to the conversation she had with Cernborn the night before. She sat down to think about her predicament. The door, which was only about five feet tall, was in the center of the wall opposite the wall nearest her shackles. As she sat she thought about the previous evening, gathering the fragments of memory she retained about her capture. She remembered leaving the Dragon's Inn, and heading for the less reputable portion of the city. She also remembered the sting of something on her neck, followed by a group of thugs picking her up out of the street where she had fallen. Her memory ended at that point, replaced by nightmares of torture interspersed with visions of her village being burned. She came back to the present quickly when she heard boots approaching the door to her cell. She wished desperately that she could see what was on the other side, but she was fairly certain that whoever it was would not be pleasant. Grumbling was heard on the other side of the door, followed by the jingling of keys, the door swung inward and a short swarthy man with a shortsword entered. He studied her unconcernedly then turned and exited the room, only to return a moment later with a tray containing a chunk of bread, a piece of moldy cheese and a pitcher full of murky water. Her stomach rumbled, and her attention focused on the food, despite its uncertain origins. As the jailer turned to walk out, he said, "You'll love what the master has in store for you! After you deliver that pesky priest to him he'll have lots more fun with you, and Cernborn can watch. And what's more, you'll enjoy it and beg for more!" While he talked he moved closer to her, until she had to turn her head to avoid his spittle. He looked at her, laughing, "You're afraid aren't you?", he looked at her from his good eye, "Aren't you?", he wheezed. She couldn't stand how close he had moved to her and she tried to push him away, earning the back of his hand as a reward for her trouble. When he turned to leave again Athorbalo caught sight of her dagger-belt hanging out of his pack. She growled and lunged to retrieve it. As she leapt, the jailer began to turn, she landed on the floor of her cell, hard, but she had the dagger belt in her hands, and in a second, had her knives held at the ready. Athorbalo fought off the dizziness she experienced from moving so quickly, she faced the jailer, knowing she had to play on his ego to prevent his calling anyone else. She grinned crazily, "You're the one that's afraid, you pig.", Athorbalo laughed quietly, "When was the last time you took a bath?" The jailer drew his shortsword and moved towards her, foolishly assuming he had the advantage. Athorbalo stood her ground, waiting for an attack. The attack came unexpectedly, he feinted to the right, and as she reacted to his false thrust, he followed his feint with a thrust at her leg, digging into the flesh on her left thigh. She staggered and her vision blurred from the pain, but she remained standing. The jailer chuckled to himself, pleased with his handiwork. He made the mistake of moving in to permanently incapacitate her, he brought his sword back, and as he began his downswing at her leg, she sliced across his right wrist with one of the serpentine blades. He shrieked and dropped his sword midswing, its edge glancing Athorbalo's injured thigh as it flew to the ground. Athorbalo took the opportunity while she had it. She strained her leg against the shackles the held her feet to the floor and stabbed the jailer in the throat. He gurgled and fell back on the floor, landing on the meal that he had brought in to her. His body shuddered and then expelled its last breath. The hilt of Athorbalo's dagger sticking from his corpse. She fell to the ground, fighting against the pain of her injury. She began working at the lock on her shackles with her remaining dagger. Moments later, she was limping down the corridor with all of the equipment the jailer had taken from her. She quietly approached the end of the hallway, and hearing no voices or movement, peered around the corner. Finding no-one there she moved to the door and into the street, silently noting the location of her prison. Athorbalo staggered in the direction of the Inn, ignoring the looks she got from passers-by. She knew that she had to get to Cernborn and the others before Marque did. The rain beat down as she limped toward the Inn, the adrenaline coursing through her body was the only thing keeping her from collapse. She laughed to herself in exhiliration, realizing her luck to be put in a prison that was only guarded by one man. Athorbalo dripped blood on the rainy street and moved on. ---------------------------------------- Lord Captain Cernborn tolsen@leland.stanford.edu Mi'Cha Ning'Ra jmc@ataxia.res.wpi.edu Gyles Dormani virtuesr@gps1.laafb.af.mil Athorbalo hilanse@wkuvx1.wku.edu