From: bj689@cleveland.Freenet.Edu (Mike D. Bavister)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [AG] A Night and a Morning in the Drift Inn.
Date: 15 Sep 1992 22:13:29 GMT
Organization: Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, OH (USA)
Reply-To: bj689@cleveland.Freenet.Edu (Mike D. Bavister)
NNTP-Posting-Host: hela.ins.cwru.edu



[ADMIN: proxy-posted for: 
        Christopher M. Steiner <csteiner@ousace.cs.ohiou.ed>]

    Toscon awakens to the sound of someone thrown across the floor.
 
    He  looks up to see a rather large, ritzy looking guy socializing  about 
 the sleeping arrangements with a few of the others, who don't look  pleased 
 about the subject.
 
    "Another..gmblerer... " he says as he goes back to sleep.
 
                                 -     -     -
 
    Aglarond  quitely sits down on his newly acquired pillows and  blankets, 
 not to mention floor space.  
 
    <Maybe  I  shouldn't sleep so soundly in a place like  this.  But,  then 
 again,  I never sleep to soundly.>  Aglarond muses to himself, <I  seem  to 
 have awakened some poor schmuck from his slumber.  Oh well, if he tries  to 
 make  anything out of it, he will find the same fate as the  gentlemen  who 
 were inhabiting my spot on this ever so dingy floor.>
 
    With those thoughts, Master Rhunen, as he likes to be called, begins  to 
 meditate.  
 
                                 -     -     -
 
    Effandir groggily made his way down the stairs, avoiding a step that was 
 developing  a  rather noticable crack.  Splunk was climbing down  from  the 
 bartop for the seventh time that morning.  Ghurney wasn't in sight, she was 
 probably tending to one of the customers in the unlit half of the inn.  The 
 Large  Noisemaker  was  sitting  by  the  fireplace,  probably  eating  the 
 "special".   The Dark-Blue Leathered One was at a table, talking  a  little 
 too loudly about the local thieves guild.
 
    "What's for breakfast?"  Effandir dared to ask.
 
    Splunk smiled.  "We have eggs to go with the special!"
 
    "Here's  a copper, I'll get it myself."  Effandir picked up a  bowl  and 
 spoon and headed towards the fireplace.
 
    He sat down noisily, picked the serving spoon out of the pot and  stared 
 at the gruel.
 
    "So, what's one of your obvious middle-classness doing here?"
 
    Aglarond's  eyes  slowly  raised  from the bowl  to  the  gentleman  who 
 questioned  him.  Disturbed.  "I am here on business, if it is any of  your 
 concern."
 
    Effandir dripped the gruel on the spoon back into the pot, wondering  if 
 the eggs were already added.  "What kind of buisness?"
 
    Aglarond  checked  to  see  if his spoon was  being  eaten  away  before 
 answering the question.  "I am looking to hire-"
 
    Toscon appears beside the fireplace.  "Did I hear talk of services being 
 purchased?"
 
    Aglarond mused... "Ahem... who are you... who are both of you?"
 
    "I am Effandir Taredain, messenger of Cyric."  He put the spoon back  in 
 the pot and threw the bowl onto the fire.
 
    Toscon shrugged.  "I've only been called Toscon, and that for only a few 
 weeks."
    
    These  were  exactly the type of people that Aglarond was  looking  for. 
 Unkown  and desperate.  "I am looking to hire a few good men to  deliver  a 
 message  to  a plantation to the northeast that I plan  to  purchase.   You 
 would  be  required to assure that they accept.  With, perhaps,  force,  if 
 neccessary."
 
    "Sounds like fun," Toscon smiled.
 
    Aglarond  pulled several bags from underneath his cloak.  "Here are  the 
 neccessary  documents that you will be required to give to  the  plantation 
 owner.   There  is also twenty shekels each and a map to get  there.   Just 
 follow the map and begin as soon as possible."
 
    "And what do you mean only for a few weeks?" Aglarond questioned.
 
    "Huh?"  Effandir said.
 
    "I  was traveling with a fun group of people about a year ago.   I  died 
 twice  with  them,  although  I thought  it  was  three  times..."   Toscon 
 shrugged.  "They had too many enemies, so I left."
 
    "I  see,"  said Aglarond.  "Everything that you need is  in  the  bags."  
 With  that, Aglarond promptly stood up and headed for the door, leaving  an 
 unfinished bowl of... of...
 
    "Cool," Toscon said, picking up one bag with twenty shekels.  "Effandir, 
 eh?  I'll meet you at the east gate at around noon."  Then he left the inn.
 
    Effandir  looked from the remaining three bags to the makeshift door  of 
 the inn.  "But I never aggreed to do anything..."
 
 
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+ Toscon- Life is to long to play it safe. +
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It is by will alone
I set my mind in motion.
It is by the juice of Safu
that the thoughts aquire speed
the lips aquire stains
the stains become a warning.
It is by will alone
I set my mind in motion.    - Mentat Piter De Vries


Life is a swamp.  And above the swamp, there is fog.