From alt.pub.dragons-inn Sun Mar 12 09:07:58 1995
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From: rak321s@nic.smsu.edu (Koch Ronald Andrew)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [INN]-Tarelle-New Character
Date: 11 Mar 1995 00:13:22 -0600
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The patrons of the Inn caroused raucusly, swigging ale and sipping the 
fine Elven wine.  The dull roar of the common room filled the ears and 
vibrated the bodies of all.  In a corner, daggers were thrown at a 
target, as burly men tried to accomplish the only nimble thing they were 
capable of.  In dark booths, hooded figures sat, talking in hushed tones, 
and occasionally, a figure would stand and stride out into the night.  
Some of those figures never would return, but none would notice or care.  
The Inn had been a haven and a gathering spot for folk of all ilk, be 
they beneficial or evil to the core.  But, tonight, the Inn would get one 
of the stranger visits of it's very long history.  For tonight, outside, 
the lights of the windows had attracted yet another traveller.  On this 
night, the Inn would have a visitor the like of which it never had 
before, and might well never have again, as the traveller was the last of 
his breed.  But there was still time to tell the stories of his clan's 
past, and then to adventure forth, to write his own chapter into the 
tales, even should they be the last chapter ever to be written.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The doors flung wide, a blast of wind throwing them hard on their 
hinges.  The gust managed to find and extinguish many of the burning 
wicks in the room, dimming it suddenly.  The conversation dimmed as 
quickly, and many looked toward the door to see the new arrival.  Even 
some of the most aged patrons of the Inn, who had seen travellers of the 
most varied types come and go, now had reason to give pause, and stare at 
the doorway, for it held a figure.
The dimmness of the common room made it a silhoette, but it could be told 
that it was a man, with what appeared to be a staff, half again as tall 
as himself.  Some of the more observant, more experienced among the crowd 
noticed that the man leaned slightly on the staff.  Then, a glint showed 
on the staff, revealing that it was not oak, or even the legendary 
diamondwood, but, indeed, purest silver.  As the blurred vision of the 
drinkers and carousers became more clear through concentration, it became 
clear that it was not a staff after all, but instead, an ornate spear, 
with the figure of an oriental dragon wound around the staff.  At the 
level of the figure's head, the dragon's mouth stood open, with a blade 
obviosly designed to slash, as well as thrust.  The tip of the blade 
extended a fair two feet above the head of the figure.
The Innkeeper, used to interruptions of the exotic nature, began to set 
about relighting the lamps around the common room.  As the light grew, it 
became easier to view the man himself.  The eye was drawn by the head of 
the dragon to the head of the man, only to see pure, almost innocent, yet 
somehow dangerous, blue eyes peering out from behind stray locks of his 
wild blond hair, hanging down from the padded leather helm that was 
little more than a headband.  Certainly such a helmet could not offer any 
real protection.
A stir around the body of the man tore the veiwer's eyes away from his 
face.  The impression here was one of frightening implications.  The very wind 
seemed to wind around the man, carrying leaves and bits of sawdust from 
the floor swirling around him.  Indeed, for a moment, the wind seemed 
almost to eminate _from_ him, but the effect was surely illusion, as it 
soon dissipated, showing no sign that it was ever there.
The same type of fitted, padded, leather armor clad the rest of the man, 
who was tall, but not very bulky.  The danger in this man seemed to be 
the picture that was summoned by the mind of him sprining with unheard of 
speed to slit the throat of a man who wronged him.
Last to be noticed in the growing light, was the colors the man wore.  
First to be noticed by the wary was the white of the knuckles, as he 
gripped his spear with obvious strength.  The strenght of that grip made 
even theives in the room who had immediately thought of coveting that 
pure silver spear think twice.  Finally, hard to notice, even in the full 
light that filled the common room now, against the natural brown of his 
leather armor, was blood.  His or other's, was impossible to tell.  As 
this realization was taken in, only seconds after the doors had swung 
wide, the stranger fell forward onto the hard wooden floor, and lay 
there, unmoving.

[Yes, sorry..this _is_ a repost...but the way I left it, I really can't do
anything else until someone takes notice of it...I'm not complaining, just 
a fact.  To do it anyway else would seem silly after such a build-up...
P.S.  could someone please tell me what the difference between this and 
alt.dragons-inn is?...they seem to be the same newsgroup...thanx!]

Tarelle, Knight of the Order Dragoon
        /-\--\       /--\--\        /-\-----\_____             _________
-\----------\  \---------\   \---------\  ^  (*)  \____-------/_________\
--\\----------\  \--------\   \---------\__   ________/-------\_________/
   \_/__/       \__/__/    \____\/___/     ===_______/
Ronald Koch
RAK321s@nic.smsu.edu
(P.S.  If anybody can make a better ASCII version of this spear...PLEASE DO!)