From alt.pub.dragons-inn Sat Aug 19 13:12:03 1995 Xref: netcom.com alt.pub.dragons-inn:8633 Path: netcom.com!ix.netcom.com!howland.reston.ans.net!news.cac.psu.edu!news.tc.cornell.edu!travelers.mail.cornell.edu!newsstand.cit.cornell.edu!cam.cornell.edu!mcharles From: mcharles@cam.cornell.edu (Michael Charleston) Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: [Aven-Ryx and Bwacuqwe] Date: 18 Aug 1995 15:56:30 GMT Organization: Cornell University Lines: 182 Sender: ks23@cornell.edu (Verified) Distribution: world Message-ID: <412d7e$p39@newsstand.cit.cornell.edu> NNTP-Posting-Host: kilburn.cam.cornell.edu They dined in the gallimaufry of the patrons of the Inn. Their arrival had caused but few heads to turn: in such a mix, they were almost dull by comparison, too subtle in aspect to merit attention amid the cacophany of sights, sounds, and smells that at once engulfed and forgot them. They found a table somehow, and ate hungrily, before rinsing down the food and the pleasantries into which they had lapsed, as for want of comfort do all who newly meet. He leaned back, winced in anticipation of a gut pain that did not, in fact, eventuate, and was forced into a warm grin. "I am bettering my grip of this tongue," he began, causing a flicker of amusement on Aven-Ryx's normally serene face, "and I would like to talk some more, if that is acceptible." They sat and talked, slowly and haltingly at first, not only because of his inadequate skill in this new language, but as the evening wore on, they became more at ease. He began to realise what her motives might be in rescuing a beleagured stranger in an alley, and she began to realise that he was not to be feared. He talked carefully, but gratefully accepting her help with the complicated grammar and obscure pronunciations of this new language, and with many slips, which made the corners of her eyes crinkle. He spoke of his home, his village near Na'Tasrach, his father, deeply respected but instransigent, dark and silent, often brooding, seldom smiling. Wise and honourable, brave, and loyal. He told her of his mother, quiet also, but always giving the impression that somewhere within her was a child, impish and playful, who endured his father's dour ways almost as a private joke. He mentioned his sister and brothers, his friends in the village. He spoke at length of his world before he had taken his apprenticeship with M'Halik Hguraan, the ancient Glyph Mage from Na'Tasrach, and of the great storytellers of that city, from which he had first heard of the Tascarians. He told her little of his apprenticeship, and little of his travels since it ended, some four years previously. He showed her some of the obvious sygils on his face and hands, and explained to her their significance. He told her of the gift that now hung around her neck: the luck charm from which, with other such charms, he made much of his living. He proudly showed the detail that always took him hours to achieve, and beamed under her quiet appraisal of his skill. She felt that something was certainly missing, that he must be carefully avoiding something, perhaps painful, perhaps distasteful, perhaps simply none of her business, that had occurred in the last few years. She did not feel the need to press the point, but it did pique her curiosity. He briefly described the attack that was made on him on his arrival in Generica, though tersely, and a shadow fell across his eyes as he did so. Lastly he talked, in low voice, of the Library, whose legend had drawn him to this city. She appeared dubious of the bizarre nature of it that he claimed, but perhaps parts of it were true. To visit such a place...! He seemed honest in his belief, and not one prone to fits of imagination: perhaps there was such a thing. She would let that ride too, for a while. But at last, hours later, he fell back in his seat, rubbed his hands on the ancient wood, and grinned ruefully. "But I have spoken too long, and I have not let you tell me of yourself. Forgive me, I have not spoken to anyone at such length for over a year. I travel a great deal, and it is rare that I encounter one patient enough to listen! Please tell me about you. Anything." ----- "I think I do not have a story that is as colorful as your own. I have lived a primitive life before coming here to Generica." Aven-Ryx began to tell her story, of life on the arid plains of Tascaria. Where the hunt is glorified and magic is scarce. She lived peacefully with her clan, and her family grew and she had many relatives. She told him of a day when she found a mage who was wounded, but she could not find any wounds; he was dying of a time-sickness which he caught while teleporting to Tascaria. He trusted her, and gave her his items to protect and use. She promised to use them for good, and never to hurt or kill. He soon died, and she began learning about these items individually. The first of these items was a stone, with a crystal ring around it. She told Bwacuqwe that it was a mage stone, one could cast a spell into it to be used later. She gave it away to a mage yesterday, here in the inn. The second was the crystal, which glowed and pulsed red now. She told him that this was the crystal that healed him, which now holds a piece of his life force. "Perhaps you should take this. This crystal is not mine anymore." She explained that the crystal can not do anything more, but it could be used by necromancers and evil mages to control the soul of the person who is attached to it. The last of the items was a amethyst orb. She told him that this was her favorite. It could do many things, but the unusual thing about it was when she activated it, it showed her another ability it could do. But the more curious thing is that she feels it when she thinks about it, it can also communicate to her. Aven [for short] told Bwacuqwe about how it mysteriously showed her Generica and what this place is like. Overwhelmed by her curiosity, she wished to go there, a different place from her known dry plains of Tascaria. The orb, hearing her mental wish, transported her here, and she wound up in a crate in an alley near here. "You see, my story is boring, perhaps I will get some excitement soon, so I may tell my children of my adventures." She said in a sad tone. Bwacuqwe noticed that Aven was lying about the second half of her statement, by her facial features. She became silent, and stared into her drink for some compassion. ----- "Boring? I am surprised you think it so. You talk of great powers, artifacts far greater than my own hedge magic. But perhaps there is power in all such things." He paused, reflected on the glass bottom of his tankard, joining her mood there. "But you seem... not happy. If there is something I can do to help you, please, allow me to. I shall remain in your debt, you see, until death takes me." He smirked a little to take the edge off the oath, but it was out now, and true anyway: he would not rescind the remark even if he could. Her head, still bent over her drink, moved slightly - the scalp shifting subtly, a tell-tale of the briefest of smiles below. She looked up, some of the life returning to her expression. "But what if you in turn should save my life one day? Would the debt not then be paid?" "Ah, but no. Then you will be in my debt also. It is not a bad thing for two people to be in each other's debt." She wondered briefly why he used "will", not "would", but put it down to his inexpert "grip" of the language. Though that grip was strengthening quickly. He continued with more energy, "Have you noticed how good drink can make us sorrowful just as easily as joyful? A senseless effect! We must fight against this! Though I am tired, I would welcome a walk outside. Would you do me the... honour?.. of accompanying me? We can both use a cheer, and the air will do us good. I trust you will protect me from harm...?" "And," he went on, "let me tell you then, of Falling Leaves." ----- "I would enjoy a walk right now, since I am feeling sore after the past week." She said, with a smile. ----- Aven-Ryx and Bwacuqwe are the creations of Gina M. Jenkins and Michael A. Charleston, respectively. This material is copyrighted to these authors, with all rights reserved.