From: jempci@ultb.isc.rit.edu (J.E. Mason)
Subject: Re: [SAM] So where exactly are we?
Originator: jempci@ultb
Organization: Rochester Institute of Technology
Date: Mon, 4 Jan 1993 21:45:27 GMT

Dint had grown accustomed to the smooth, steady gate of the destrier
that had chosen him.  His fear of falling from such a huge animal had
diminished.  He bacame steadied himself to look around and behind him,
taking on the task assigned him by Alaric as the rear guard of the
group.

The land was dark indeed, and getting darker by the league.  His
infravision occassionally showed him points of lights (beings?) passing
like falling stars beside them.  The destriers surrounding the group
also radiated heat, obstructing his vision, so he decided to manuever
his destrier to the back of the group.

As he moved to the rear of the pack of destriers, the sounds of the rest
of the group grew fainter; muffled, but not entirely so.  He did not
like not knowing where he was going, but perhaps he could determine
where he had been.  He carefully turned to watch their back-trail.

He could see nothing of interest.  The gound moved so fast, that he
was greatful that he could not see it fully (for fear of getting sick).
He settled into his rearguard position, looking out for anything unusual
and/or dangerous...

>Sam, in a bit of a snit, turned towards the voice, "I'm sure that I don't 
>know what you are talking about! AND Furthermore.. that little dwarf..eh..
>Bint? He's on 'is own.. I've nuthin' to with 'im." Further mumblings could
>be heard from Sam, as he munched on a loaf of bread that appeared out of
>the darkness, ".. added them to your own.. who the 'ell does he think..".

Dint couldn't quite here what was being said.

>A piercing cry ripped through the muffled silence of the shadows. Sam, startled,
>let go his loaf of bread, and made a desperate attempt to recapture it. The 
>loaf juggled from one hand to the next, bouncing off his chest as it travelled.
>Sam's grasping hands whipped through the air, but the canter of his mount made
>the task near impossible. With a lunging grasp Sam's hand closed on his meal.
>The smile creeping across his face quickly melts away as he realizes that
>in his current position if his feet were not anchored in the stirrups
>he was in for a nasty fall. They weren't.
>
>Sam felt the impact, and heard the crack of bone as his shoulder collided with
>the dark ground. Instinct told his body to curl in upon itself, and as the 
>other horses rode about and over him, Sam cursed his choice of pitch black 
>clothing for the evening. 

Dint felt his mount swerve suddenly, though gracefully, and saw a flash
of dull orange shoot by him on the gound.  It looked, briefly, like Sam!

"Man Overboard!" Dint yelled. "Stop! Stop!"  But his mount, and the rest
kept going.  It seemed as if no one could hear him.  The orange glow 
disappeared, swallowed by the dark.

>As Sam layed there, re-living the tumble, his thoughts
>centered on how quiet the fall had been. He hadn't even called out. A sobering
>thought blazed within his mind.. "Good God.. they didn't stop!". 

Dint grabbed the mane of his mount and hauled with all his might.

                            "STOP!!"
-- 
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John E. Mason        |      jempci@ultb.isc.rit.edu
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