From alt.pub.dragons-inn Thu Apr 6 07:14:52 1995 Xref: netcom.com alt.pub.dragons-inn:8254 Path: netcom.com!ix.netcom.com!howland.reston.ans.net!pipex!warwick!news.shef.ac.uk!newsmaster@sheffield From: E.A.Laycock@shef.ac.uk (Liz) Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: Re: [just in from a sea voyage] Date: 5 Apr 1995 06:58:31 GMT Organization: Earth Sciences Unit (gl), University of Sheffield , UK Lines: 37 Message-ID: <3ltf2n$qkk@hippo.shef.ac.uk> References: NNTP-Posting-Host: pc041120.shef.ac.uk X-Newsreader: WinVN 0.92.1 In article , Yia Thao says: >Push open the crumbled old front door and step inside, looking around the >ill-lit room. With one looked, anyone can tell that the stranger is an >elf and a sailor at the same time. Beyond that, no one can tell for >sure. This is the first time that he appeared here. > >He sits himself down by one of the few empty table and yell for a glass >of Elvish Ale, while still surveying around the room.... A handsome elf looks up as the newcomer walks in. He carries a longbow and holds himself with the stature of a warrior, but his pale coloured garb is unusual, a pale green cloak, pale blue boots, pink hose, and all the belts and baldricks on his garb are in cream leather. Even the elf's hair is silvery-grey in colour, lending a washed out appearance to his attire. The only other remarkable things about him are a bone-white staff, a head taller than him, and a small creature which curls around his neck, purring softly, in what sounds like a quiet snore, it's eyes are firmly closed. The elf rises to his feet, with a grace typical of his kind and strolls across te inn to the newcomer. "So good to see you, sir, may I request your company?" He accompanies this invitation with a bow of his head, and turns, indicating a table. The small creature opens one piercingly yellow eye and yawns, indolently. Liz __________________________The Dark Angel _________________________ The ardour of red flame is thine, / and thine the steely soul of ice: Thou poisonest the fair design / Of nature, with unfair device. Thou art the wisper in the gloom, / The hinting tone, the haunting laugh: Thou art the adorner of my toom, / The minstrel of mine epitaph. Dark Angel, with thine aching lust / Of two defeats, of two despairs: Less dread, a change to drifting dust, / Than thine eternity of cares _________(from the poem by Lionel Johnson 1867-1902)______________________ *******Don't you hate people who have sigs longer than their letters, I'm sure it's the sign of a sick and twisted mind !!!! *******