From alt.pub.dragons-inn Tue Aug 22 23:50:43 1995 Xref: netcom.com alt.pub.dragons-inn:8646 Path: netcom.com!ix.netcom.com!howland.reston.ans.net!news.moneng.mei.com!uwm.edu!caen!reeve.research.aa.wl.com!WS008013F18C2D!simonj From: simonj@rh.wl.com (Jeff Simon) Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: [Party][Jack Kincaid]Jack Flash and the Fortress of the Ebony Elves Part 3 Date: Tue, 22 Aug 1995 06:42:45 EDT Organization: Parke-Davis Rochester Lines: 495 Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: 198.205.215.16 X-Newsreader: Trumpet for Windows [Version 1.0 Rev B final beta #4] *************************************************************************** What has gone before: At the Founder's Day party held by the Shadowmaker Luthor Anside, an enigmatic outlander has produced a bottle of superlative wine for the enjoyment of the others. The wine, a vintage labeled simply: Chateau de Memfys, surpasses anything that anyone has ever tried before. As the participants in the story circle savor the wine, the outlander tells the story of how the wine was acquired by an associate, a interdimensional rogue and con-artist by the name of Jack Kincaid. *************************************************************************** The Party Wrapped up in the emotion of telling his tale, Shade did not at first notice the new arrival. It was not until he paused momentarily to lubricate his throat with a sip of wine that he observed the small gray figure whispering in Lutra's ear. Oddly enough, the outlander warrior's first emotion was one of acute embarrassment. When a storyteller loses the attention of his audience, it is a sure sign that the weaver of the tale is taking too long to get to the heart of the story. He watched the two figures for a moment, feeling another emotion arise as he did so. The little man's interruption was something that treaded dangerously near the path of rudeness. It was obvious, Shade thought, that whoever the man was, he had no respect for the art of telling tales. Jake's giant otter friend was passing the man a small book. The little gray man clutched the item to his chest and scuttled off somewhere. As the man disappeared to another part of Luthor's housetree, Lutra suddenly became aware that the tale-telling had come to a complete stop. The otter returned his attention to the stocky sword-slinger; nervously rubbing the golden brown fur of his chest as he noticed Jake's dour expression. "Do continue, Jake, please." he said, his purple eyes wide, his whiskers quivering as if with fervent anticipation of the tale's impending resumption. Jake snorted, not buying the otter's act for a moment. The outlander made a mental note to dunk the little gray man into the punch bowl before the party broke up; then resumed his tale. *************************************************************************** The story within the story: As Part 3 of the story begins, Kincaid has journeyed from his home plane of Aurauna to the mysterious realm of Dyyksi. The land of Dyyksi is dominated by the Elven Race, which at one time held the indigenous human populace in bondage as slaves. Although the human race is now free, they are still bound by the laws of their former Overlords. These laws are enforced by a sect of human warriors known as the Lawgivers. Kincaid has inadvertently managed to break one of these Elven laws already, and is now face to face with the most formidable of those Lawgivers, the sheriff known as James Raven. All this before he has even made it to the city of Memfys, where the Chateau de Memfys can be found within the foreboding Fortress of the as yet unseen Ebony Elves. *************************************************************************** JACK FLASH AND THE FORTRESS OF THE EBONY ELVES PART 3 (The Duel) In the dark room on the first floor of the hotel, everything had gone silent. Through the open window, Kincaid saw a tumbleweed rattling up the street. The sign hanging above the door outside swung in a sudden gust of wind, squeaking ominously. Somewhere in the distance a harmonica played a mournful tune that faded in and out of audibility. A flash of lightning flickered on the horizon and every face in the tavern was bathed in flickering white light. "What ca -" Kincaid's words were interrupted by a sudden crash of thunder. He waited for it to subside, then tried again. "Can I hel -" This time the copper-haired rogue was drowned out by the mournful howl of a faithful hound, standing watch on a newly- filled grave in the nearby cemetery. Kincaid hadn't noticed that graveyard on the way in . . . . "What do you wa -" This time his words were upstaged by the crowing of a rooster. Kincaid looked at his Rolex in puzzlement as it crowed three times before subsiding. There was a moment of utter silence as everyone waited for the copper-haired rogue to attempt speech once more. But Jack Kincaid didn't play straight-man for anybody, let alone a minor character in one of his own stories. Instead of attempting to speak, he folded his arm and looked at the Lawgiver with an insolent expression. The two men sized each other up. A clock that hadn't been there a minute before began to tick loudly as each man waited for the other to speak. At last the Lawgiver could stand it no more, and opened his mouth to talk. "Are you about done with the atmospheric effects?!?" Kincaid interrupted angrily, the vein in his temple throbbing visibly. "Sorry about that," a deep voice rumbled. "I always like to make an impressive entrance." As the big man's words faded, a sparrow flew in through the open window. It circled the room once, then fluttered to the floor where it promptly expired. Kincaid rolled his eyeballs. "So what do you want?" he asked the Lawgiver in a tone that was ungracious and churlish. The huge man grinned. "Well, you can come on back with me to the town jail, where I intend to incarcerate you until I can trans- port you to the county facility. Or else." Kincaid knew better, but he took the bait anyway "Or else what?" he asked. The Lawgiver's grin spread even wider. "Or, you can resist your lawful apprehension, and I'll give you a taste of the Big Bopper here." The big man thumped his thick club into one palm suggestively. "Or maybe more than a taste." At those rumbling words, those patrons who had been brave or foolish enough to linger suddenly took hold of their senses and bolted for the door. Soon there was no sound within the tavern other than the breathing of the two men. Well, Priscilla was there too, and Kincaid could feel her firm breasts swell against his side with every breath she took. So really, there was the sound of three people breathing in the tavern . . . Not without effort, Kincaid snapped his attention back to the matter at hand. During his career as the number one expert in acquiring items both rare and wondrous, Kincaid had run afoul of the mazelike snares of the legal process often enough to become something of a Legal Expert. He was literally a Mage of Defense Procedures. He utilized this knowledge now, whipping off a deadly and fearsome Legal Spell. "I haven't been formally charged," Kincaid intoned in a darkly arcane manner. The Lawgiver's eyes widened slightly as he observed the power of Kincaid's spell, but he was able to deflect it effortlessly. "You are charged with the unauthorized performance of a prohib- ited artistic exhibition, specifically the harmonic expression of human discontent and angst in the musical form popularly referred to as the Blues. This exhibition was in violation of the Humo/Elven Compact, section five, paragraph three." Kincaid observed the ease with which the Lawgiver erected his Magical Legal Shield. A sensation of despair threatened to swamp him. It was obvious that the fight ahead of him would not be easy. Even as the Master of Acquisition began preparing another of his sinister Legal Invocations, his opponent made a preemptive strike. "If you are found guilty of that crime, you will be put to death in the most horrible way possible." the Lawgiver said smugly. Kincaid's knees threatened to buckle under the pressure of that Psionic Id Assault. A lesser man might have collapsed into a small, blubbering heap, but Kincaid had faced danger too often in his life- time to crumble so easily. He forced his thoughts into a purposeful channel and prepared to launch another Legal attack. "As I am not a resident of your dimensional plane, I had no way of being aware of this law." Kincaid probed cautiously, attempting to find a chink in the Lawgiver's Legal Shield. "Ignorance of the law is not a valid defense!" the Lawgiver roared, smashing through the feeble attempt at an Diminished Capacity Plea. Undaunted, Kincaid continued weaving his Legal Web "Then as a non-resident I should be entitled to Diplomatic Immunity," Kincaid asserted. A smile of reluctant admiration flickered about the corners of James Raven's mouth, but he was not even slightly fazed. "You are an Illegal Immigrant, therefore incapable of holding diplomatic credentials. Thus you cannot claim immunity." A film of sweat broke out on Kincaid's forehead as he realized he was dueling with a Master of Legalities. Luckily his diplomacy gambit had been a double pronged attack, and he had outflanked the Lawgiver. His lip curled into a sneer of triumph as he closed the jaws of his trap. "As you have just granted that I do not have legal resident status, I should be deported, not prosecuted as a naturalized cit- izen would be." For an instant, the Lawgiver was staggered by the subtlety of Kincaid's Legal magic, He swayed like a huge tree about to topple, but only for an instant. All too quickly, those muscular shoulders squared themselves, and his shaggy head lifted itself defiantly high. "The laws protect both citizens and non-citizens equally," he asserted in a voice that rolled like thunder. "If a non-resident like yourself were to be victimized by the criminal act of a resident, that resident would be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law because you are protected by the law just as if you were a full citizen. That equality under the eyes of the law is a sword that cuts in both direc- tions however. If a non-citizen commits a crime against citizens, then that non-citizen is likewise as fully answerable to the law as any full citizen. Clearly I have jurisdiction in this case, because that is the situation that we got here." Kincaid closed his eyes as the room began spinning wildly around him. As he struggled to overcome the overwhelming vertigo, he realized that the Lawgiver had boggled him with Dershawitze's Maze of Juripru- dence. Clearly he was facing a Mage of Legalities, or perhaps even an Archmage of Redtape. Priscilla gasped, her arm tightening around Kincaid's waist as the Lawgiver raised his club up on high and moved forward in a manner that was spectacularly threatening. He was obviously confident that he had totally overwhelmed Kincaid's Legal defenses. Unfortunately, the Lawgiver had underestimated his opponent. Jack Kincaid always kept a cool hand. "What we got here . . . is a failure to communicate," Kincaid managed to gasp out just in time. "Some Lawgivers, you just can't reach. . . ." The Lawgiver known as James Raven was forced back reluctantly, and Kincaid gave a small sigh of relief. The filibuster was always a risky maneuver to pull off, but his leap from Judicial defense to a Legislative offense had obviously taken the Lawgiver by surprise. Then again, most people were surprised at just how offensive the Legislature could be. Sensing a momentary advantage, Kincaid abandoned his stalling tactic. Emboldened by his success, the copper-haired rogue attempted Jonny Cockring's Spell of Infinite Blame Division. "I cannot be tried fairly in Dyyksi because I will be unfairly discriminated against by red-necked crackers, who have framed me and conspired against me in a plot designed to protect your oppressive system and keep me at the bottom of the power structure where I will be easily exploited," he asserted boldly. The ebony bolt of Legal Bullshit streaked like a slimy fecund missile towards the heart of the Lawgiver. An instant before it struck, a white sheet of mystical energy sprang up from nowhere and deflected it away harmlessly. The very black bolt shot out through the window, and flew into the second story window of a large white house with thick columns that was across the way. "I feel your pain!" came a shout from the distant structure. For a brief second, the white sheet of mystical energy glowed a deep red. Two bars of steel blue crossed the sheet, intersecting at the center where the bolt had struck. In the distance, Kincaid thought that he heard a marching band strike up a rousing anthem. Then the music and the magical shield disappeared. "Nice try with that one," the Lawgiver told him, "but that song don't play in Dyyksi." "That's what got me in this mess in the first place," Kincaid muttered under his breath. For a moment, the two men glared at each other across the distance that separated them. Each measured his opponent with eyes that held a new respect. Then they leapt to the attack simultaneously. All the subtle intricacies of Legal Magic were abandoned as the two men struggled to hammer each other into submission. Fearsome words of Legal Power were thrown back and forth like bolts of naked lightning. The clash was titanic in its intensity. "Diminished Capacity!" Kincaid shouted, thinking it was a good opening gambit. "Personal Responsibility!" Ooof! The gloves appeared to be coming off, he thought. "Lack of Compassion!" Kincaid tried a savage liberal Ego-Whip, "Left-wing Elitist!" The Lawgiver repelled him with another Id Assault. "Jack-booted Thug!" Kincaid parried brilliantly, jockeying for position. "Criminal Scum!" was the instant but non-threatening ripost. "Thought-Police!" Jack cried, attempting an Id assault of his own. "Subversive Element!" the Lawgiver countered, his eyes glazed with hate. The struggle was too evenly matched. Sweat stinging his eyes, Kincaid decided to up the stakes. He called upon the god of bluster to aid him in his struggle. "Eff Lyy Balyy, I summon thee!" The Lawgiver's face paled at the mention of that dread name, but he had hideous and androgynous patrons of his own to call upon. "Janet Ryyno, protect me!" he cried out beseechingly. Kincaid was tired of playing patty-cake. It was time to bring out the big guns. "Ay see el yu!" he snarled. The big man howled, cupping his hands over ears that blistered at the name of that hated organization. Still, the Lawgiver continued to battle on with righteous fury. His determination to bring in his man was a frightening thing to see. "Martial Law!" he bellowed desperately. "Gyynsburg!" Kincaid countered effortlessly, sure of victory. The Words of Power were flying faster now, the air fairly crackled with the intensity of the exchange. "Probable Cause" the Lawgiver shouted intrusively. "Reasonable Doubt!" Kincaid countered, unsure if he was using the right defense for the occasion. "Executive Privilege!" The Lawgiver's voice had a ring of high authority in it. "Habeas Corpus!" Kincaid knew the counterspell, but he wondered where the Lawgiver's new-found confidence was springing from. "We have a Mandate!" Now it was Kincaid's turn to stagger. Suddenly he was aware that he might be overwhelmed. The Lawgiver seemed to have inexhaustible Legal resources. Kincaid pushed Priscilla to one side of the stage, so that she would not be struck by a stray Word of Power. Then he returned to the melee with redoubled fury. "Power to the people!" he tried, attempting to unify his defenses. "We're from the government. We're here to help." "Never trust anyone over thirty!" Kincaid knew he was on tenuous ground with that one, but his stock of Legal Remedies was nigh exhausted. He might have to win using grass-roots sloganing magic. "Long-haired, draft-dodging, under-achieving cry-baby slacker!" "Foul!" Kincaid protested. "That was a cross-generational slander not based on any judicial or governmental procedure!" he protested. "Objection overruled!" the Lawgiver thundered unmercifully. "Basis!?!" Kincaid demanded. "All is fair in War!" the Lawgiver screamed, spraying the room with spit. His strategy was now clear to Kincaid. The big man had consolidated his Spells of Judicial Power with an arsenal of Executive Agendas. He had almost managed to build an irresistible Dictatorship Aegis. "The overrule is sustained!" a huge voice agreed from somewhere overhead. "Give peace a chance!" Kincaid countered desperately, losing ground yet again. Executive magic was very difficult to resist unless you had the Grimoire of Booth and Oswald. The Lawgiver took a step forward, "Unconditional Surrender!" he hissed menacingly. "Uh . . . Withdrawal with honor!" Kincaid cursed with despair even as those words left his mouth. They were Words of Illusion, not Power. Sweat was beginning to run into his eyes in a stinging torrent. He began to furtively look for an escape. A loophole of some sort. "Ha!" the big man laughed, sensing victory. "In order to save the village, we had to destroy it!" "Yeaaargh!" Kincaid screamed, totally overwhelmed by the Right-wing Logic Warp's foul power. He fell to his knees. The Lawgiver used his opponent's momentary weakness to usurp his turn. He struck again before Kincaid could recover. "Burn baby, burn!" the Lawgiver crooned. "I . . . feel . . . your . . . pain!" Kincaid croaked weakly, as he remembered the oath shouted from that white house. It was not enough. He had lost. The Lawgiver knew that victory was near. He leaned over the slumping Kincaid and spoke the words that would seal the thief's doom. "DROP THE BOMB!" he intoned in a voice that echoed like the trumpet of doom. Kincaid curled up in a fetal ball. In Aurauna, he could not have been defeated in such a Legal battle. But here in Dyyksi, the home-field advantage had been too much to overcome. He rolled over on his back and stared at the stage lights above him. "The horror . . ." he whispered darkly. " . . . the horror!" As if through a terrible storm, he heard Priscilla's sweet voice. "Jack, don't give up! You can still beat him!" Her voice stirred his pride in some indescribable way. He wracked his brains wildly, desperately searching for some arcane Legal Formula that would turn this thing around. James Raven, the Supreme Lawgiver of Dyyksi laughed in triumph. He stepped forward, brandishing the Big Bopper as he gleefully prepared to transform Kincaid into so much crimson vomit lying on the stage. Suddenly, he halted. He bent forward, so that he could hear the copper-haired rogue's whispered words. "What did you say?" the Lawgiver demanded. Kincaid drew a ragged breath, fighting against the black waves of unconsciousness which threatened to swallow him whole. "I said . . . I WANT A LAWYER!" Now it was the Lawgiver's turn to taste the whiplash of utter terror. A chorus of deep voices sprang up from nowhere, chanting a stentorian chorus of bad Latin. A dark wind blew in from some distant slime pool, bringing with it a cyclone of infernal confetti. The shower of swirling bits looked as if they had been cut from blood-red tape. The storm of confetti began to coalesce into a shape from hell, a horrible figure clad in a funeral gray Armani pinstripe suit. Double- breasted. A hand-stitched silk tie dangled from the figure's bloated neck like a rope from a gallows tree. Shiny Verasce leather loafers with tassels covered what looked suspiciously like cloven hooves. A wide, oily smile stretched the figure's rubbery lips into a hellish rictus of greed. That smile revealed perfectly white, bonded teeth straight from an orthodontist's nightmare, and the silver tongue that lay beyond them. The Lawgiver screamed in pure, unadulterated terror. His voice was high and broken like a woman's; it was a shriek, really. Kincaid's last gambit had been to summon the most horrible creature found on any of the nine hundred and ninety nine levels of Hell. A Defense Attorney. 'My God, what have I done?' Kincaid thought bleakly. ******************************************************************************* This concludes Part Three of Jack Flash and the Fortress of theEbony Elves. Will Jack Kincaid survive the soul-sucking evil ofthe Attorney from Hell? Will he manage to escape the spuriouscharges leveled against him by the Lawgiver? Can he find a wayaround the discriminatory James Raven Laws. Will he ever make itto the fabled city of Memfys so he can face the alleged Ebony Elvesand bring this story to a close? How much longer can I drag thisthing out? You and Steve Hutchison would like to know! Tune in next week for Part Four of Jack Flash and the Fortress of the Ebony Elves and find out. -- The opinions expressed in this message are mine alone. This message does not necessarily reflect the positions or opinions of my company or organization.