From: k113651@lehtori.cc.tut.fi (Karhu Jouni)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.cloven-shield
Subject: [Armas] New Character
Date: 12 Jan 1993 19:30:28 +0200
Organization: Tampere University of Technology, Computing Centre
Distribution: world
NNTP-Posting-Host: cc.tut.fi

  Here is a new entry...


    If you would have asked any customer of the Cloven Shield about the
man sitting in one of the more private tables of the pub, you would have got
a shrug or simple silence as an answer. Only a few more observant ones could
have told you that the man wrapped in grey wool robe had come in just after
the hobbit had made his entrance. In general, he remained unnoticed... until
someone else made an entrance.
    It was already late afternoon, and shadows were covering the darkest 
alleys. The man riding slowly towards the Cloven Shield didn't let any of 
them slip by his eyes unnoticed. Perhaps he was memorizing possible hiding
places or escape routes, possibly he was expecting ambush. In any case, nothing
happened until he stopped in front of the Cloven Shield, gave the reins of his 
horse to the stable boy and stepped inside.
    He was tall and lean. In fact, were he a few inches taller, he would have  
had to bend as he stepped inside. He had a long, black hair reaching almost to
the small of his back. In his hair he had knotted numerous feathers, beads, 
and bones of small animals. His outfit was all black leather: vest and tight
leather hose. His arms were bare, revealing lean and knotted muscles under
his pale skin. All over his clothing were bones and especially claws and tusks
of different animals. Some could easily be recognized, some not. 
    It took him only a couple of strides and he was standing at the bar. Only
then did those who were watching him notice the steel rings piercing his both
cheeks. The stranger did indeed have a steel ring on both sides of his mouth.
This was not the only peculiarity (although the customers of the Cloven Shield
were pretty much used to peculiarity), but he also had tattooes in his lips and
eyelids. Nowhere else... visible, at least.
    And then the newcomer spoke up. 
'What spirits have you got, innkeeper?'
    His voice was like the rustle of dry leaves as a chilly autumn breeze 
sweeps through dark alleys and empty rooms. A broken, hollow voice.
'Oh... Well, we do have some excellent rums and a couple of bottles of malt
whiskey... Of course we have the usual selection of cheap liquors and whiskey,
but I...' The Innkeeper didn't quite know how to handle this stranger.
'Never mind. Give me a bottle of your best malt whiskey. Don't bother with a 
glass.'
    As he turned to face the bar, those who still were interested of this 
newcomer noticed the sword strapped on his back. Not large enough to be a 
genuine twohander, the sword still had a grip long enough for two hands.
The sheath was so wide that it didn't give any hints about the blade itself.
    The innkeeper brought the bottle from the storage room and was tossed a 
few gold coins.
'I left my horse at the stables', the stranger drawled and uncapped the 
bottle.
    Just as he was about to start emptying the bottle, the man in the wool
robe stood up.
'Greetings, Sulo Armas. I guess you DID think I was three days behind you...'
    Armas did not waver, but took a long drink from his bottle before putting
it down and turning to face the speaker.
'Kaarle... How nice to see you.' He bared his teeth.
'Why don't you and I step outside?'
    The man in the robe -Kaarle- didn't answer. He just removed his robe 
revealing full chain mail armour and an elegant long sword strapped to his 
side. Silently he began moving towards Armas, who had stepped clear from the
bar.
'You are under arrest, Sulo Armas', Kaarle finally stated. 'You may have 
thought you could escape, but you forgot me.'
'You will never get me out of this town in chains, you know...'
'It is a coffin for you, not chains!' Kaarle rushed forward, his longsword
leaping from its sheath.
    Armas did not draw his sword. He just took a step forward quick as a 
striking stone adder and blocked the strike with a strike of his left fist.
With an audible crunch the hit connected with Kaarle's wrist. Before the sword
hit the floor Armas grapped Kaarle's wrist in his right hand... and started
squeezing. Kaarle paled visibly but didn't utter one grunt of pain.
'...You... You...', was all he managed to say before Armas finally let go of
his now useless wrist and stepped backwards.
'Innkeeper! Because your whiskey was so good, I will not mess this place up!'
    Kaarle did almost get his good hand up in defence as Armas hit him once
in the neck with rigid fingers. The pub was so silent that those who sat in
nearby tables later swore they could hear the sound of Kaarle's larynx 
crunching.
    Everything seemed frozen. The two combatants stood facing each other for 
a moment. 
'Muista minut, Kaarle, kun tapaat Tuonen virran lautturin'
    These words broke the spell. Kaarle dropped on his knees, trying to get 
air in his lungs -to no avail. Almost as an afterthought Armas grabbed Kaarle's
head and twisted once with strength enough to break his neck. This time every
one in the pub heard the crack.
    Armas let him topple on his face and turned his back on him. Slowly he
walked to his bottle and started drinking.
-- 
'Listen! I have something to say! |   JJ Karhu     k113651@cc.tut.fi
 It's better to burn out,         |       'The Immoral Immortal' \o
               than to fade away! |     -=========================|xxxxxxo
                                                                 /o