From: scavanag@neumann.une.edu.au (Steven Cavanagh)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [T&R]21: The ring of the rose.
Date: 7 Sep 92 12:38:50 GMT


>	The darkness of unlit  tunnels is so absolutely
>lacking in illumination that Rolliks eyes were hurt when he groped his
>way around a bend and was confronted by the light. For an
>irrational instant the swashbuckler thought he had come across
>a rectangle made of pure light, and then his conscious mind
>told him to stop being so stupid and investigate the door.

 
	Even though the light seeping through the cracks around the
door did nothing to illuminate his side, it was apparent that the
door was very old even before Rollik's fingers touched the rotting
wood. The decay did little to diminish the sturdiness of the door,
however, which indicated its apparent thickness. After a careful 
examination for hidden needle traps, deadfalls, and the like, Rollik
placed his ear gently to the barrier and listened.
	The muffled sounds of combat that eminated from the door were
so vivid now that the noble warrior wondered why he had not noticed
them before. His lifelong passion for helping those in need flared
inside him, and with a steady hand he eased open the door.
	As thick, ancient doors go, this one was a rebel. Instead of
piercing the air with an ominous creaking the door simply slid open
with barely a whisper, and even though Rollik was expecting the 
light its intensity still caught him off guard, blasting through the
meagre defence of his squinting eyelids and threatening to burn his
eyeballs out of his skull. Then his eyes adjusted, and in an instant
he took in the scene before him.
	The room had once been well furnished, but those days were
long gone. An ancient tapestry on the right wall featured a hideous
Dragon engaged in mortal combat with a large patch of mould. A lounge
that had lost its beauty over the decades was overturned in a corner,
and a raised dais in the center of the room supported a beautiful
statue of half a leg. Yes, the room had seen better days before its
present owners had scuttled in.
	There were thirteen of them, if Rollik had taken the time to
count. The race was uncertain, but it would have to be something in 
the Goblin genus. Three foot bodies supported thin arms ending in four
sharp clawlike fingers, with corresponding toes on the wiry legs. Short
tufts of greenish yellow hair sprouted from an elliptical head that
competed with two fat ears for size. Facial features were not visible
from Rollik's vantage point, as the goblinoids were facing away from
him, toward their victim.
	The man must have been of noble origin, as the bloody robes
that covered his banded mail were once fine, even ceremonial. In
his right hand he kept his attackers at bay with the shattered
blade of a broadsword, extending his swings to cover his left side as 
that arm was apparently useless, hanging limp and defeated beside him.
The man was facing Rollik but hadn't noticed him yet. Another mouse 
like me, Rollik pondered, or a cat in disguise?
 
I have to take that chance, he concluded. I can't watch this man
die.

"Come, underlings of the foul one. Come, and taste my blade"
Rollik's deep voice boomed. By the time the things had registered
Rolliks prescence he was upon them. His fighting style normally
dripped with finesse (indeed, finesse was his very life), but
finesse was not called for here. The goblinoids parted before great
two-handed sweeps of the ninja-to.
	To Rollik's surprise, as soon as the man saw him he said
no word of greeting, thanks, or encouragement, but simply pointed
and gasped desperately "The ring! get the ring!". It was only then
that the swashbuckler noticed one of the creatures gibbering as it
held something aloft in a bony claw: a small, grey circle of metal.
Wordlessly, he made for it.
	The creatures were small, fast, and abundant. Before three 
fell to his blade they had surrounded him and two had leaped onto
his back, grasping hold with their razorlike appendages. Rollik
spun violently in an attempt to shake the things off, and with a 
ripping of cloth the goblinoids fell free, taking his shirt with
them. he attacked in a raging frenzy now, lopping off the head
of one too slow to escape. A few quick cuts and he had reached
the one with the ring. With one hand busy the creature was easy
prey, and the swashbuckler ran him through with cold fury. The ring
was slippery with the man's blood, and rather than make the same
mistake as the late goblinoid Rollik shoved it on his finger as he
started back. The things were more hesitant now, and with several
calculated attacks and a dextrous flip Rollik was at the man's side,
holding one of the more easily defensible corners. 
	Rollik glanced at the ring. It was of plain steel, but held
a large ruby that glinted its beauty at his appraising eye, like
a miniature rose. At his thought, the stone suddenly swelled into
a Rose, opening its petals to the somewhat less than appreciative
goblinoids.

"Bribarbik!" said the man dramatically.

"Bribarbik?" echoed Rollik. what sort of a name was that?

Suddenly there was an ear-splitting crack, and the air in front
of the two men was filled with a raging holocaust of rose thorns.
Gibbering squeals were drowned by the blast as all eight remaining
creatures were lacerated by the thorn storm and thrown lifeless to
the floor. The thorns settled, then winked out of existance as a
silence settled in the room.
	Rollik collected himself. Ponder this later, this man needs
help. For the first time he could see the man in detail, and what
he saw shocked him.
	His left hand clutched a great gash in his side. On closer
inspection it could be seen that the hand had only the thumb, with
four bleeding stumps where the fingers had been. Minor cuts from the
claws corresponded to every slight gap that had been in the suit
of banded mail, and a deep wound to the head completed the ghastly
picture. Rollik eased the man to the ground.

	"Three uses. Once each per day" the man forced out with
pain. "You fight well. I used to be like that, once. I am Lord 
Haklarad, of the house of rad".

"Rest easy, sir. I'll.." Rollik paused. He could do nothing.

The man smiled weakly. "My race is finished. I know where I go, and
I do not fear it. Take my gift, and wield well against Ak'lssh's
minions, and him too, if you get that far. The words for use c"
he suddenly expired with a sigh.

Rollik thought vaguely that it wasn't supposed to happen this way.

"Upon my word,sir" he said. "For you, Ak'lssh will die".

 
ADMIN: the ring is one I invented a while back for AD&D that I
       never got to use. As to the other two powers? well, you'll
       just have to wait and see...

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                                |
Steven Cavanagh                 |        So many women-
(Cav)                           |
                                |                      -So little charisma.
scavanag@neumann.une.oz.au      |
                                |
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