From: z_falkrg@ccsvax.sfasu.edu
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: Re: Radan, Rhys, Killian & a stranger
Date: 28 Jul 92 17:25:23 GMT
Organization: Stephen F. Austin State University


	Killian looks up from his drunken haze to greet the eyes of the
stranger at his table.  With a wide toothy grin he lurches forward saying,
	"Mi..Mi..Mi'lord...Pleazzed to make your 'qaintence.  I am called
Killian, king of bards and bard of kinzzz..."
	He reaches for the bottle on the table and takes a deep draught.  A
look of disgust quickly crosses his face as he realizes that it is water he
just drank.  Setting the bottle down, Killian mumbles quietly to himself and
gestures over the bottle.  A soft amber glow surrounds the bottle as Killian
sinks back into his chair, looking very tired.
	"It's a handy spell to have, but it drains me," he says as he reaches
for the newly created bottle of wine.  Drinking deeply, a refreshed look
crosses his brow and the red-haired man sits back.
	Setting the bottle back down on the table, Killian reaches down and
pulls up his lyre.  Absent-mindedly, he gently plucks at the strings bringing
forth delicate and quiet notes.  Even through his drunkeness, the grace of his
fingers is astounding.  The bard looks up and says, 
	"Let me tell you of my last adventure..." and his emerald green eyes
suddenly clear and his voice looses it's slur.

	It started in a small town, I cannot recall the name now, that I found
myself in between jobs.  There was a festival going on to celebrate the
upcoming nuptuals of the local lord's son and a neighboring lord's daughter. 
It was supposed to unite the two lands or some such nonsense.  I care little
for politics or the like, the wine that flowed freely was what I was there for. 
I have a terrible weakness for this.  
	As I wandered from tavern to tavern, I entered one where a few unsovory
barbarian types sat outside and were having a contest as to who can throw beer 
barrels farther.  They cared little for the damage they caused in the process. 
	I quickly ducked inside and scanned the room.  It was a lively place, 
full of women and song.  There was one man in the corner trying hard to sing 
and play for the crowd, but alas, his talents were small and the insults the 
crowd returned were great.  I had to laugh to myself, it was obvious that the
buffon had just picked up the mandolin on which he plucked, and his voice could
have curdled milk.
	I gestured and called into being some simple lights and shapes to give
some illustration to my story and quickly boosted the spirits of the bar.  The
man in the corner forgotten, he sullenly picked up his empty helm and wandered
out.  
	After a time, the shouting and screaming of combat broke over the song
and revelry in the tavern.  Always the curious type, I stuck my nose out to see
what was going on.  Several men were forcing a young man onto the back of a
horse.  The barbarians sat and watched, laughing the entire time.  One of the
abductors glanced over yelling, 
	"Witnesses!!  Kill them!!!"  Three other horsemen charged toward the
barbarians.  
	One of the barbarians looked over at the other with a grin, "Yes! 
Let's kill the witnesses!!" and started to hack at the locals.  
	The kidnappers closed in and engaged the two barbarians and a large,
messy melee did ensue.  I noticed the "bard" who got laughed out of the tavern
was standing on the sidelines trying to sing inspiration, but only removing all
doubt that he was a complete git.  The rapier at his side would have been
better put to use than the instrument.
	I just shrugged thinking that this was not my fight, when a fat
merchant wandered into my reach.  I really hate merchants.  While he was
occupied with watching the fight between the abductors and the barbarians, I
relieved him of a few gemstones in his pouch.  He probably had a score more
just like them at his shop, the pig.
	Just as I was going to take my leave, the local constabulatory arrived. 
About time I thought.  The only abductor alive quickly retreated.  The
barbarians subsided, their battle lust satiated, as the guard questioned the
few remaining members of the crowd.  I was caught before I could take my leave
and was instructed to show up at the sheriffs station at dawn tomorrow.  A
lovely lady had caught my eye and she seemed infinately more interesting than
the stinking guard yelling at me.  
	"I will be there when I come," is all I said to him as I weaved my way
toward the bar.  The "bard" tried to detain me, acting on gods only know whos
authority, but was easily dodged.  
	Having lost my pursuer, I made my way to the bar and to the fair maid
who had caught my eye.  After a long evening of drunken revelry, I worked my
way into her bed.  
			***SIGH***
	I left a few of the gemstones I had "aquired" on her pillow, I took my
leave the next morning.
	It was almost Highsun when I finally deigned to arrive at the sheriffs
station.  The man was most irritated at my tardiness.  He will live.  To my
surprise, the "bard" and one of the barbarian types from the previous night
were there too.  I wandered about the room, completely bored, while the
sheriff explained that the local lord's son had been kidnapped and that we were
to get him back.  I stretched and found a warm sunbeam to sit in and doze until
a price of 1000 silvers each to the man or men who coud bring him back was
offered.  Being poor off at the time, I decided it may be worth my efforts and
grief to suffer the company of these two in order to get the reward.
	The three of us left the sheriffs station and glared at each other. 
The barbarian introduced himself as Ebon and the "bard" as Sir Jareth
Hawksglade.  I had to laugh at that.  Several of my funniest stories centered
about the "knight" called Jareth and his bumbling antics.  Needless to say,
Jareth was not happy that I knew his shame.
	We gathered our gear and headed east, toward the last reported
direction of the kidnappers.  After about half a day's walk, hunger reared it's
ugly head and we decided stop and eat.  While setting up, a squirrel popped
it's head up to see the activity.  Ebon grabbed his crossbow and skewered the
rodent.  
	"Squirrels are good eating!" he bellowed.
	"But only raw," I replied.
	He looked at me a little strange, but shrugged and went to retrieve his
game.  Suddenly, a dozen huge and black squirrels popped up out of the trees. 
The beasts had an evil and supernatural look about them.  Jareth grabbed his
rapier and I clutched my staff as the monsters closed in, red eyes burning and
sharp teeth chattering.
	A short, but dangerous combat started.  Jareth was actually doing well
and Ebon swung his axe like a champion.  I held my own, but several bites
connected with my legs and I was heavily wounded.  The others suffered light
wounds before the four foot monsters were beaten back.  I slumped down, my legs
not able to hold me as Ebon came over to examine the wound.
	"Not bad...seen worse," is all he said as he reached into his pouch and
pulled out a container of FOUL smelling paste.  He smeared the paste over my
wounds and they immediately felt better.  We decided to camp here for the
remainder of the day.
	The night was only disturbed by the passing of five men on horseback. 
They were yelling something about getting 1000 silvers and disappeared into the
night.  We looked at each other and wished we could afford horses to make our
trip speedier.

	With that, Killian heavily sunk back into his chair.  He reached out
for the bottle of wine and drunk deeply of it.  He smiled and gathered his
strength for the next leg of his tale.

#############################################################################
#    Rob Falk                   | What do you do to a guy who double        #
#     a.k.a. Tora               |   crosses you and then steals you girl?   #
#                               | You let him keep her.                     #
#    Z_FALKRG@CCSVAX.SFASU.EDU  |              --Rutger Hauer "Deadlock"    #
#                               | Life is a sexually transmitted and	    #
# Disclaimer:  Whatever I say   |   terminal disease                        #
#   is nothing more than the    |   	       --I really don't know        #
#   nonsensical ravings of a    | They're coming to take me away!  Ha Ha!!! #
#   lunatic mind...             |              --Napoleon XIV               #
#############################################################################