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From: tolsen@leland.Stanford.EDU (Tanya Ann Olsen)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [Cernborn] {At the Inn} Room Service!?
Date: 6 Apr 1995 14:22:49 -0700
Organization: Stanford University, CA 94305, USA
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			#11a Room Service !?

A knock came at the door.  "Room service," a voice called out from the
hall.  Upon opening the door, Cernborn could see a servant holding a
tray of food. "Compliments of the house, for Cernborn."  He handed
over the tray and disappeared from view down the hall.

Puzzled, Cernborn took the tray and set it down on the small table by
the door.  Something was strange about the servant, but he could not
determine what.  Deciding not to take anything at face value, he
visually inspected the tray for oddities and then magically for
poison.  He finally realized what was bothering him as he prepared his
prayer:  the servant did not address him properly and did not wait for
a tip.

"What is it?" asked Athorbalo who was once again resting on the bed.

"I am not sure.  Something is strange here," he replied.

About a minute after touching the tray of food, an itching started in
Cernborn's hands, moved slowly up through his arms, and soon
encompassed his entire body.  The itching compulsion was so strong, it
broke his concentration, but his worst fears had already been
confirmed.  Some sort of poison, apparently activated when he touched
the tray for the first time as he took it from the servant was
spreading throughout his body.  As this dawned on him, he noticed for
the first time a business card on the tray.  It read:  "You are a dead
man.  Enjoy your last meal."  The card was signed Azurecon.  

"Oh no, not again!" cried Cernborn.

"What is it?" asked Athorbalo again, moving off the bed.

"I have been poisoned!" he replied.  She started to move to him.  "Do
not touch anything near the tray or me.  My wards against poison do
not seem to be working, or rather, they are working but this poison
compells me to scratch and when I do, it spreads, and I am poisoned
once again."  He clenched his hands together in a desperate attempt
not to succumb to the horrible itching.  "Unless I can get this poison
washed off somehow, this cycle may continue indefinitely."  His voice
strained as he tried to concentrate on the matter at hand and ignore
the itching sensation which now seemed to cover his entire body.

Athorbalo ran into the bath room and returned with the pitcher and
basin.  "Here let's try rinsing it off and at least stop the
spreading."  She started pouring water over Cernborn's clenched hands
and arms, catching the excess in the basin.

"Wait! Athorbalo!" he cried too late as he crashed to the floor, quite
unable to stand, a merman once again.  But the itching had subsided
slightly, and the pain of the transformation had broken the compulsion
to scratch.  "Douse the rest of me; I am not sure where I have
touched."  He started a chant while she poured the rest of the water
over him.  The itch grew stronger as he chanted; it took all his self-
control to continue the prayer and not give in to the compulsion to
scratch which was returning full force.

When he finally finished, he laid back, apparently exhausted.  He
sighed in relief.  "If this sort of thing continues, we will never
even get out of the Dragon's Inn!" 

Athorbalo chuckled, "Does this mean I get the chance to make you do
what I say while you recuperate?"

------------
Lord Captain Cernborn		tolsen@leland.stanford.edu
Athorbalo			hilanse@wkuvx1.wku.edu

with special contribution from:
Azurecon			jimmoore@eden.rutgers.edu