From: andsol@owlnet.rice.edu (Andrew J. Solberg)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [KQ] Kron [Kron's Head] Dream a Little Dream Of You
Date: 13 Sep 1992 23:19:29 GMT
Organization: Rice University

[Kron has blacked out from hunger, tiredness and adrenaline low as a result
of 'Raelf's healing spell.]

It's a mystery to Terry why the sky is flashing like a strobe light.  Normally
it stays either bright or dark, and remains that way for a certain measure of
time.  At least, that's what he thinks he remembers.  It'd help if his brain
wasn't full of cotton candy.  Also, there's a weird buzzing noise, like a
hundred wasps under a metal bucket.  But that's not the strangest thing.

The weird thing is, Terry is young again.  Old, dusty, leathery Kron has been
washed away, and what remains is a youthful and vital Terry.  He's clad in
the same old stitches that he wore from his early years in and around the
Arcade of Unforgotten Heroes, but somehow he knows that he has shed thirty
years' worth of age and bad memories.  He whistles merrily and begins to
stroll down the street, without a care in the world.

It's daylight now, lightning-fast transition, but Terry does not notice or
care.  He's walking down the Arcade, sun in his face, a ripe orange in his
pocket, a few coppers jangling brightly in his pouch.  Well met, Hopper:
how's the leg today, eh?  Oi -- upset the coal cart again, Goodsir Robbin?
I'll help (myself, that is...)  Holla, Rudy, Cherrick -- have you seen my
sister?

There you are!  Little scamp.... I've been looking for you all over!  Where've
you -- whazzis on your face?  Caramel?! ...didja save me any?  AH!!!! That's
my little Shy.

C'mon.  <mmglph> I got a <glmph> a line on a <gulp> bit of work I can do, 
wheeling a scrap-cart.  And you can brlsc euwnme IE*#$% 3e89w .3.lds.....

 ************ *******     ************ *******     ************ *******     
 ************ *******     ************ *******     ************ *******      
 ************ *******     *S***L***I*G *******     *ST**L***I*G C******
 *ST**LIS*I*G C*NT***     *ST*BLIS*I*G C*NT*C*     EST*BLISHI*G C*NTAC*

               E S T A B L I S H I N G     C O N T A C T

                 C O N T A C T    E S T A B L I S H E D


...Shy?

Cheyenne?

What happened?  Why's the sky so dark?  And where'd everybody go?

Cheyenne?

ohgodnogodCHEYENNEdownthealley<huff>and'roundthecorner<puff>CHEYENNE!dammit
pleasePLEASEdontgoTHEREyouvegottabecrazy<huff><huff><huff> Dead End.

Hell.

okayshecouldnthavegotfarsoallwegottadoisturnaroundand Hello! There you are....

Cheyenne?

What's the matter?  You've -- grown.  You look old.  See, you're taller 
than me.

And what's that sticking out of your back?

What are you doing?

Hey, Cheyenne....Cheyenne!  

Gods, you're my sister!

Cheyenne, I...NO! Ah! ARH..ARGH-AU-AU-OU-AOUUUUUUU!!!!!!

MYENGELETH! U'U'Uathotlep M'OU SWEROIU:LSCJF{POIJHEW:TLJH:LSJ

IE! IE! SHUB-NIGGURATH!!

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

[the brainstorm will continue]
-- 
Andrew Solberg          |"If I were your wife I'd poison your tea!" 
Undying University Mooch|              Anon. Outraged British Woman
andsol@owlnet.rice.edu  |"And if I were your husband I'd drink it!"
Phone:713-529-8627      |              Winston Churchill