From: cj841@cleveland.Freenet.Edu (Chris Steiner)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [BH] Amazing how long a person can stay dying here :)
Date: 14 Dec 1992 04:52:48 GMT
Organization: Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, Ohio (USA)
NNTP-Posting-Host: hela.ins.cwru.edu


    [ADMIN: Apologies to all of you, especially Amberle and Miscrir.  I took 
 a creative writing class and the teacher wouldn't accept stuff from here so 
 I had to pull out for a while, but I'm  back now :]
 
    Dart flies ahead with Artimian looking through his eyes.
 
    <Five men are approaching an intersection.  {go right.}  One man  stands 
 over  another(Miscrir?  Probably), pointing a crossbow at a  doorway.   Ah, 
 Amberle's in the doorway.  Grrr.  {look up}  3/4 moon.  Good, don't have to 
 deal  with  that.   {look back to the five}  Much  closer  to  the  corner.  
 Damnit!  I'm not fast enough!>  A strangled "eep" came from behind him, but 
 he ignored  it.
 
    Artimian  sheds  his  backpack and  sprints  towards  the  intersection.  
 {feeling  lucky tonight?}  {No. No fighting.}  {OK, watch my backpack.}  {}  
 The  bricks are slippery, but he keeps his balance by running on all  fours 
 as  necessary.  <Too wet for a dust devil>  A sharp twang echoes,  followed 
 by a small grunt.  <Too many corners for a zap, too far away for fire, Lord 
 Azuth, don't make me use one of my own spells!>
 
    Suddenly  one of the thugs is right in front of him.  "Ack!"  he  slides 
 into  the  man's legs and bounces off, drawing his mace.  The  man  lumbers 
 forward and swings at Artimian.
 
    "I  don't have time to deal with you, *STAY THERE*!"  The man  stops  in 
 mid swing.  Artimian clambers to his feet and rounds the corner.  The  man, 
 off balance, falls against the wall and remains motionless.
 
    What  seems  like  hundreds  of black cards fly  from  the  street  into 
 Amberle's hands, cutting the gangs legs and feet on the way.  Amberle has a 
 quarrel  sticking out of her left shoulder.  The other man is  loading  his 
 crossbow again and advancing.  Miscrir looks dead already.
 
    {Back here!  Big man's at your backpack!  Hype's hurt!}  Artimian growls 
 and turns back down the alleyway.  {Let me see.  Aim.}  <The big one who he 
 had sent Hype after is running down the alley, carrying his backpack on one 
 shoulder.   {In  place?} {} {Good, how far are you from  me?}  {2  seconds} 
 {Right}   Azuth  be  with me...>  Power builds in his  hands  and  releases 
 quickly.   Then again.  <Two projectiles come into view  almost  instantly.  
 One  strikes the man, the other flies out of sight.  Two more  strike,  one 
 hitting  the strap of the backpack, breaking it.  The man hits the  ground. 
 {} {Watch him, tell me when/if he gets back up.} {}>
 
    Another  sharp  twang is followed by a low crackling  like  a  sustained 
 lightning  bolt.   Artimian  turns around to see a  sphere  of  electricity 
 expanding in the midst of the gang members.  The sphere expands to fill the 
 alley, almost touching Amberle, then ceases to exist.
 
    A  heavily cloaked man stands on a bit of grass in a hole in the  street 
 which  exactly  conforms to the previous sphere.  A bloody  arm  holding  a 
 beaten  sword  falls to the ground.  The feet and legs of one of  the  gang 
 members stand just outside the hole.  The man in the center brushes back  a 
 bit of purplish-green hair and says, "Oh.  That's what this thing does."
 
    [ADMIN: Enter ArthSplunt Grigwald I]
 
 "Bartender, I believe I'll have another pitcher of water..."
                                             (Artimian Yauntir of Elturel)
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