From: hutch@hutch (Stephen Hutchison)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [KQ] Marcel, 'Raelf [W-house] Into the Soft UnderBelly of Crime
Date: 19 Aug 92 16:33:15 GMT
Organization: Intel Corp., Hillsboro, Oregon

[ADMIN:  In the sewers below the Warehouse, Marcel and 'Raelf have just
escaped a hungry Thk-Prime, by the expedient method of convincing Keflek
to show them the secret entrance.  Illusory drugs are SO convincing.
And a taser to stun your opponents can be useful too.
Note that 'Raelf is wearing the appearance of Thk, while Marcel is
wearing the appearance of a Magna-Veritan Hospitaller.

+ The two of them raced down the corridor.  'Raelf easily 
+ found the hidden stone, and the two burst into the room.  Marcel
+ thumped the semi-conscious guard, just in case, while 'Raelf dumped
+ Keflek on the ground.  He unclipped a small spool from his 
+ waist.  "If you could tie them up, I must attend to my injuries."

'Raelf took the spool of monowire and juggled it for a moment.  This won't
do, they'll just pull hard and really hurt themselves, besides, what if
we don't get back here, or something.  He thought for a moment, then
hissed gleefully.  There WAS something he could use ... (sound of waves
grinding a mountain to sand blown by the wind)

+ Marcel pulled out his cross and uttered a short prayer.
+ [All better.  Cleaned up any bugs we might have picked up
+ in the sewer, too.]
+ /I know./
+ [Fine fine, so I'm useless.  You're lucky you got me, boychik.]
+ /Lucky?/

'Raelf looked up from where he'd tied the two together, using a thick,
somewhat ... fake ... looking rope.  The guard was stripped to his
(rather stained) skivvies, and 'Raelf was shaking out the tunic and
hose in some disgust.  The light leather jerkin was on the table beside
the bodies.

+ "Hey, dudes.  If you two are done, we've got some 'sploring to do."
+ [Hey, he's on to me.]
+ "How did you know about the Rabbi?"
+ 'Raelf snickered, "You've got a Rabbi in there with you?  That must
+ be interesting."  (Poor rabbi)

+ "He is a Spirit Chip.  Malreaux designed them in the GODnet.  The
+ soul of Rabbi Howard Fishbien was imprinted on a chip.  It was supposed
+ to wipe his personality, but keep his knowledge.  However, the Rabbi is ..."
+ [Watch it.]
+ "-irrepressable."
+ [Hmmm.]

'Raelf exposed lizard-man fangs (a smile?).  Without much effort, he
moved the two unconscious prisoners, bound head-to-foot and back-to-back,
to a hidden position that could be concealed by the table.

+ "I assume your ...

'Raelf inhaled, and exhaled, slowly, then FLICK 'Raelf the human stood there,
wearing a pair of brief swim-trunks.  He looked up as Marcel flinched, but
gamely continued his sentence.

+ ... magiks alerted you to him. But that is beside the point.
+ I did not know you were going to aide us.  I thought you were with that dwarf
+ looking for his dragon."
+ "Yah, Sunstorm.  I did.  Or actually I will.  Hmm, you don't
+ have the right tenses do you?  It's a long story.  I'll tell you later."

"Right now," 'Raelf grinned, "I have to get a disguise ready, so we can
do a bit of infiltration."  He reached over, touched the unconscious guard.
FLICK FLICK SPUTTER SPARK POW!

"BLEAH - Gah! what a FOUL taste!"  'Raelf shuddered.  "That bastard has at
least four different drugs in his system, and two of them carry death-curses!
NO WAY can I put on THAT body!"  He fell back a bit, and Marcel reflexively
caught him as he nearly went over backwards.

"Thanks, dude.  Oh, I nearly forgot, man.  I closed up the entry hole you
fell through, but there was something kind of suspicious nearby.  Nastiness,
had the flavor of the Dark Realm attached to it.  Ritual murder-sacrifice
with an out-world flavor, and the bodies had been sliced open with a
molecular edge.  Suspicious, if you get my drift." 

Marcel held momentary conversation with his more spiritual partner.
This was interesting news - what could it mean?

"So anyway, back to the matter at hand.  You got a mirror?"  'Raelf stared
at the guard for a few moments, then sort of FLOWED - the fine muscle definition
of his tanned athlete's body replaced by a sort of sallow-skinned, loose, and
much skinnier form - about four inches shorter, a bit of a beer gut, and covered
with small scars and tracks.  "Yuck, this feels awful."

Marcel wordlessly handed over a small shaving mirror.

"Great."  'Raelf looked back and forth between the mirror and the guard,
making minor adjustments, until his face and coloring matched.

"M'sieur 'Raelf, why do you put on this unpleasant aspect?  And why are you
helping in this?"  Marcel accepted the mirror back as 'Raelf began to
put on the guard's clothing.

"Oh, I dunno.  Two reasons.  I wanted to warn you about the weird stuff I
found real close to your entry point, and I need to ask Thk about where
to find a basilisk.  Besides, I spent the last 3 months doing nothing
but work, and I need to recharge my batteries.  And there's noplace good
to surf around here, what with that Seaguard mage dude keeping the harbor
tides all boring."  He was finished.  A distressed grab at a crawling
thing in the clothes, and a FLICK (flame) so the clothes suddenly smelled
less like last years' cleaning rags.  Less ... populated.

Marcel helped him move the table to conceal the two sleeping captives.

"Bon.  How do you intend that we should infiltrate?"

"Well, dude, the other side of that door," he indicated a battered wooden
structure, "There's some kind of a warehouse.  Couldn't tell from outside,
cause they have this place warded, majorly, but inside it's a piece of cake."

"And so what do you suggest?"

"What kind of sensors you got in that vessel, captain kirk?  EM?  Thermal?
Sonar imaging? Any kind of NMR or CAT subsystem?  Take a peek thru, there's
too many guards.  We have to fake our way through to where the others are."

[He's got you there, bubbeleh]

"Very well ..."  <<Activate Thermograph and EM-scanner>>  Four figures moved
inside, on a catwalk sort of arrangement, their weapons highlighted by the
tactics analyzer:  ProjWPN:XBOW:HazMinor.  Seven, maybe eight, figures moved
around on the ground level, apparently packaging something too small to see.

"Yes, I see them, four guards with weapons.  Not especially good ones, though"

"No, dude, the one by the upper door has some kind of magic on his bow.
Probably nothing special, but it might get through your armor."

"So you want us to just go inside?"

"No, I want it to look like I captured you."

"Hein.  So you want to tie me up?"

"Yeah, I made some rope - your monowire is too dangerous to mess with."

"And how .. That rope is not real.  I cannot see it with the scanners."

"Right.  It's unbreakable toon rope."

"What?"  Marcel was puzzled.  'Raelf just grinned, holding out the imaginary
rope.  Marcel took it - it felt real enough - and wrapped it into a fake
knot in front of him.  'Raelf muttered <<Monkey Trick>> and the black stick
reverted to chopstick size, and was slipped into the inside of the grungy leather
jerkin.  'Raelf picked up the sword.

"Now look goofy, like the kid and the guard.  We're gonna claim I gave
you a shot of the joystix drug."

"Look goofy?  What is that?"  [Just pretend you're praying.]
/Rabbi, I think I shall resent that remark later./

Marcel's face assumed a vapid expression.

"Here goes nothing..."

'Raelf opened the door, and shoved his "prisoner" forward before him. 
The crossbows trained on him from above.

"'Ey! I got a in-soddin-truder here! 'Ey!"  (Ouch.  Damn fake voice hurts!)

"Jack-rat!  What you doin?  You supposed ta be guardin' the back way!"

"I bloody said I got a bloody inTRUder!  Git down here!  I gotta take
'im up ta the boss!  I (cough) Ah AIN'T got no time ta hang down here"

The other guards laughed and lowered their crossbows.

"You go get him, Vander."

"Yah, fek you too, Abfrik."

The first guard descended down the narrow stairs.  He crossed to the
two infiltrators.

"Ghu take you, Jack-rat, you did it.  How'd you catch one this big?"

"Gave him a taste of the goods."

"Hells.  Not your special stock?  Jack-rat, you know they're gonna
kill you if they find out about that shit."

"Well, this is just the shanky stuff.  No janx in it."

"Well, I ain't guardin' your back door.  You gimme the prisoner."

"No way, Vander, you don't get my prisoner."  'Raelf was getting nervous.
This bugger was too eager.  "You take credit, I won't get any of it, I
stay down here forever."

"Yah, you like it down here."

"Well, I wanna take him up anyway."

The guard stopped to think for a moment.

"Hells, Jack-rat, I don't want your damn collar.  I just don't want
to hang at the door."

"Oh.  Well, Keflek is in there.  He can guard for a while."

"KEFLEK?  The runner?  Mister E's little delivery man?  What he doin'
in there, he's got no business."

"Well, it kind of WAS business, y'see.  He was makin' a private delivery."

"Huh.  Well, you arm the alarms?"

"Nah, the T-crocs are all prowlin again.  They be hungry."

"Fine.  Let's go then, up to the guardroom."

The guard grabbed Marcel's arm, shoving him roughly towards the
stairs.  'Raelf followed, stifling a grin.