From: scavanag@neumann.une.edu.au (Steven Cavanagh)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [T&R]3.3: flash handiwork
Date: 8 Oct 92 13:22:40 GMT


ADMIN: we're finally back! sorry it's taken so long, guys, but we've
just had 2 weeks of holidays and have been flat out with assignments.
Please note the new format intro: [T&R]3.3 means chapter 3, posting 3.
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A dry, musty smell assailed the nostrils of the three as they moved slowly
through the complex. The passageways had become more dusty and unkempt, and
more recently had spiralled up to another level that was in no better state
of cleanliness. Timelord led the way, his dark eyes systematically sweeping
the way ahead for possible threats. Hyala next, mace over shoulder, glancing
nervously at anything that seemed out of the ordinary (which, in this place,
was nearly everything), and Rollik glided along behind, training his senses
behind them in case of..something.
	Confident of their immediate safety, the swashbuckler slid the
rose ring off his finger to study it more carefully. The outer surface
of the small metal band was (apart from the ruby) quite plain. On the inside,
however, were three words; "petaklud", "odacham", and the somewhat familiar
"bribarbik". Three uses, the old man had said. Once per day. Rollik had no
intention of testing them before they were needed. He replaced the ring on
his finger and resumed his mobile vigil.
	Timelord spotted the two holes in the wall well before they reached
them, but on close inspection they appeared harmless. A slight draft came from 
one hole and was directed at the other one opposite. An air vent? in any
case, the draft was too strong for anything to be in the hole. Timelord
knelt down and squinted inside, keeping his head a respectful distance.
	The microsecond the passage of air was blocked, a slight puff
was heard further ahead as something came streaking toward them down the
corridor. Timelord's head snapped toward the sound, senses tracking the
missile as his reflexes surged to their maximum in the presence of danger.
	He had achieved this feat only twice before, but had practiced the
technique many times. Using the hand furthest away from the missile, reach
to where it will pass, slightly forward than instinct dictates. Close grip
hard, and as fast as possible. The missile, a crossbow bolt, was about to
fly over the crouching warrior's head and hit Hyala. Timelord dismissed
worry, dismissed tension, dismissed thought. His hand snapped upward.

From Hyala's point of view, a crossbow bolt suddenly appeared in Timelord's
outstretched hand as she registered the puff of sound. She gasped.

He just held it by the tail fletching.

"Very impressive" Rollik said dryly. "You could have got the other one".

All eyes were suddenly drawn to the shaft protruding from the swashbuckler's
leg.



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                                |
Steven Cavanagh                 |        So many women-
(Cav)                           |
                                |                      -So little charisma.
scavanag@neumann.une.oz.au      |
                                |
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