From: scavanag@neumann.une.edu.au (Steven Cavanagh)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [T&R]3.6: Hide and Seek.
Date: 14 Oct 92 01:46:29 GMT


>	Halkathe stopped suddenly, his nose coming alight at the scent
>of blood.  Moving carefully, he continued down the corridor.
>	Spying the bloodied crossbow bolt on the floor, he picked it up
>and sniffed it carefully.

They had tried all but one of the passages, and they seemed to go nowhere,
interlocking with each other to form a mesh of corridors, and so it was with
a sense of frustration that the three once again entered the abandoned garden.

"Looking on the bright side" said Hyala "We know this area really well!"

"Yes." agreed Timelord. "I feel I know this part like the back of my hand".

"If you mean your right one" Rollik indicated the cursed gauntlet "I should
point out that you haven't seen the back of your hand in some time". He
bent down to study one of the few remaining live plants in the room. Above
them a slight crack in the ceiling allowed a solitary drip of subterranean
water to seep through, patiently collect itself, then fall to the thirsty
plant below. Mother nature was crying at the wilting beauty she beheld.

"One passageway left" sighed Hyala "and at this rate, I don't like our
chances. Maybe past that rockfall is the only way out. I don't know what
we'll do if-"

"Hold it" Timelord said, glancing at the door they had first come in
almost a day ago. "I heard something".

<Beyond the door, the Shadow Drake darted into a dark corner and folded
 about himself the leathery wings whose noise had betrayed him. Eyes
 closed, he empathically reported to the Drow mage that he had found
 their quarry, and would assess their strength when it was safe to 
 continue. He grinned from the darkness, and waited.>

"I must have been mistaken" said Timelord in his worst lying voice,
pointing to the door and indicating wings with his hands. His companions
nodded.

Rollik fiddled with his moustache and thought hard as Hyala whispered to
him. "It can't be a bat, this area is too dusty. Maybe it's something from
Ak'lshh! we haven't seen any creatures around here before".

The swashbuckler said nothing for a moment, then reached down and with
infinite gentleness plucked an emerald leaf from the valiantly struggling
plant.

"Cast away your fear, milady." he encouraged "Whatever it may be, we will
defeat it. And we will do it-" he held up the leaf "with this". 
 
                         ******************

The Shadow Drake strained its scaled ears for sounds emanating from the
room, but there were none. Several minutes had past, and either the three
had moved on or settled down again. He flickered his forked tongue over his
needlelike teeth. They probably thought he was a mere bat, as several had
done in the past, to their demise. He dropped from the roof and, keeping
to the shadows, entered the garden.
	The silent, empty feel of decay in the room was made complete by
the fact that the adventurers were not there. The faerie wyrm noted the
many passageways leading from the garden with calculating observance, and
was considering courses of action when the decision was made by the soft
shuffle of a booted foot down one corridor. Instantly the Shadow Drake
pursued, melting into the shadows that aptly gave it its name.
	The corridor soon met up with many others, and in the faint light
became a confusing pattern in which only creatures that were born to such
environments were truly at home. The Shadow Drake was one such being, his
eyes taking in details that even an elf would not see. The area was not
familiar to him, though, and so it was with a degree of caution that he
drifted around a corner and saw the swashbuckler.
	He was facing away from the Drake, adopting a grand pose that 
merged into a smooth step as he stepped around the bend and out of sight.
The faerie wyrm followed at a careful distance, regretting that his objective
was to assess the strength of his group's prey before the main attack. Now
that he saw first hand one that they were to kill his ingrained evil swelled
within him, and and he wanted to feel bones crack between his powerful claws,
and the blast of his flaming breath as it reduced those of good to ash. Still,
he would contain himself. For the moment.
	When the next corridor was empty, the Shadow Drake was taken aback
only for a moment. Then his piercing eyes caught a flicker of cloak, and he
was after it in an instant, turning over the possibilities in his mind. He
might overhear something important, and the master would reward him well.
Perhaps he should kill them and then make up a reason to the others. One
possibility that did not enter his mind, however, was that his prescence
was known, at least it didn't occur to him until he rounded the next corner.

This corridor was also empty.

He had been discovered! no, not that. He prided himself greatly on his 
reconnoiting skills. It couldn't be that. After all, the corridors were all
confusingly interconnected and..yes, there was that shuffling foot sound
again, from just around the corner. Keep to the shadows..
	When the next corner also revealed no sign of his quarry, frustration
began to set in in until he saw the heel of a boot vanishing around the next
bend. When the next bend contained much the same thing, then the next,
frustration gave way to anger. Dare these human slime mock him, a wyrm?
To the depthshade with Alvyt! these lowbeings would die.
	Then there he was again, at the far end of a passage, facing away
as before, tending the ruffles on his collar. As the Shadow Drake watched,
he drew an embroidered kerchief from his pocket and noisily blew his nose
with an insolent, taunting schnonk. Anger screamed in labor and gave birth
to rage as the Shadow Drake charged, claws extended, a black arrow aimed
at the swashbuckler. Before the wyrm had covered two-thirds of the distance,
His target had once again stepped out of sight accompanied by his infuriating
air of nonchalance. The Drake sped toward the corner in pursuit, mouth open
as a hiss of intaken air became a searing well of flame in his throat. Yet
his combat experience reigned his instinctive charge as it suspected a
surprise attack, and the blast of fire that was to be saved for his target
alone instead preceded him around the corner to where any ambush would be
waiting.
	The intense fiery cone instead scorched through empty air, past
numerous passageways leading off the one he had just turned into. His
heightened frustration at finding yet another empty corridor was just
reaching its mental maturity when it happened.

<FFFFWWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEEEPPPP!!!!!!!!!!>

Whatever the Shadow Drake may have been expecting, it was not the shrill,
high-pitched blast of an improvised leaf-whistle from close behind him,
and as the startled Shadow Drake whirled to face the sound, ears ringing,
he had no chance of noticing Timelord stepping from the passage he had been
facing. As the evil slitted eyes of the wyrm beheld Rollik's impishly grinning
face, Timelord's focused internal energy was released with a shout as the
ninja-to clove unhindered through scale and dragon flesh. The leathery wings
fluttered to the ground seperately.
	"Used to make them when I was a lad" Rollik said, holding the leaf
reverently.
	"Curses!" said Timelord, eyeing the two halves of the Drake.
"A little bit off center".

                     ************************

Mouzdin-Zor's head snapped back suddenly, his hand holding his temple as
he gave a wincing groan.

"The Drake is dead" he said simply.

A mirthless grin spread across Alvyt's face.

"Then he has assessed their strength. Come, we attack."


--------------------------------------------------------------------------

ADMIN: For those roleplaying rule lawyers out there, yes I know that
shadow drakes in the forgotten realms have no breath weapons, but this
is generica.
	thanks to all who responded on the issue of goriness (controversy!
moral speculation! pictures at 11!). It's good to get an idea of what
everyone thinks so Christian will know what to write in our next post
when Rollik and Timelord get SAVAGELY MUTILATED and BRUTALLY SLAUGHTERED
and TRAIL INTESTINES as they are HUNTED DOWN AND KILLED.

	-but I get ahead of myself.

 
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                                |
Steven Cavanagh                 | The force, y'know, It's got a lot of
(Cav)                           | power.
                                |                      -Michael Jackson.   
scavanag@neumann.une.oz.au      |
                                |
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Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn