From: albert@bcm.tmc.edu (Rick Jones)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [KQ] Marcel 'Raelf [W-house] Thk-Prime
Date: 18 Aug 1992 17:34:15 GMT
Organization: Baylor College of Medicine
Originator: albert@chain.ssctr.bcm.tmc.edu


	"THAT's a Thk-Prime," answered 'Raelf.
	Marcel raised his sword into a defensive position.  "It doesn't
seem friendly.  Would it be bad if I struck it?"
	"That depends on your definition of bad.  Scope the sword.  It's 
got lots of bad mojo on it, dude.  Thk-prime himself doesn't seem too
swuft.  He grew out of Thk's severed hand which was wearing a 
_wiz_ ring of regeneration."
	Thk-Prime roared a challenge and brandished the black sword.
	"Well, as it is a brother to Thk, of sorts, I will not harm it
unduly.  Yon knave is a guard to the warehouse.  I think he would 
know the secret ways in." 
	'Raelf smirked, if a lizardman is possible to smirk that is.
"You're the Paladin."
	"Hospitalier," muttered Marcel and slowly advanced.
	Thk-Prime hissed and closed.  
	As he approached, Marcel felt waves of fear clutching at his 
brain.  Marcel shuddered and began muttering a prayer under his 
breath, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..."
	Behind him 'Raelf muttered,  "for I am the meanest mother in
the valley."  He shook the semi-conscious Keflek.  "Okay, zwilnik, 
you shouted for help.  Where's help?"
	<Sniffle> "You ain' gettin shit outa me, lizard."
	"Sssss," 'Raelf did his best impression of an angry Thk, "perhapss
you should rethink your optionsss."
	"No way, man."

Meanwhile:
	Marcel's and Thk-Prime's swords clanged in fierce combat.
	[He's not that good, but strong and fast.]
	/I / SWISH /noticed.  Do you have any other / KLANG /suggestions?/
	Marcel ducked under his opponents' defenses, and scored a sweeping
gash across Thk-Prime's chest.  He hissed in pain, for a second, but the 
wound quickly closed.  He roared and started a powerful barrage against
Marcel's defenses.
	[This could be a problem.]
	
Meanwhile:
	'Raelf muttered, "Enough's enough."  <<Heartstrings +.1,Glamour>>
He held out an empty hand.  "Look what I got.  Candy."  
	Kelfek gasped.  That lizard was holding a month's supply of 
joystix.  
	"All you have to do is tell me where the back door is.  Zwilniks
always have back doors.  Did you know this is uncut?"
	Keflek pondered, if you could call it that. The problem with
using junkies as guards is that they're only loyal to their next fix.
	"It's been a while hasn't it?"  asked 'Raelf in smooth tones.
	"It has been."  Keflek's hand started to twitch.
	"And it's not like they'd find out.  Heck, his pals are probably 
knee deep in the factory now.  This may be the last stash in Generica."

	Greed + mild hypnotics > loyalty

	"Twenty paces down.  Press the third red brick.  That drekhead
Jakus is probably blissed out.  Gimme the stuff."
	"Here you go."  Keflek took the illusory joystix and promptly
inhaled one.  A blissful smile appeared.  'Raelf shuddered.  "These 
weren't the droids you're looking for."  With that, he thumped the 
junkie on the side of the head, and Keflek fell to the ground, 
blissfully unconscious.

Meanwhile:  
	Marcel and Thk-Prime continued their stalemate.  The black
sword couldn't penetrate Marcel's armor, but it did knock him around.
And Marcel's blade couldn't do any lasting damage.  
	But wait, there's more.
	Thk-Prime, given Thk's natural tendencies towards leadership,
and subtly encouraged by his sword, has become King of the T-Crocs.
And kings have armies.  Hungry ones.
	[Danger, Will Robinson.  Thermo in your periperal vision shows
10+-2 gators coming.]
	"'Raelf, company's coming!"

	"On it.  I got our invitations.  What about your dance partner?"

	<<Charge taser>> Marcel's sword hummed.  Thk-prime looked at it
warily, and began another swipe.  Marcel then did something that's ordinarily
really stupid.  He did a fully extended lunge.  In fencing that's okay, 
because after a touch, your opponent stops, but in combat, you're leaving
yourself wide open for any of his attacks. Thk-Prime easily batted Marcel
on the side with his sword, knocking him into the sewers.  However, this was
not before a couple of thousand volts arced into his very conductive body.
His eyes glazed over, and he fell to the ground stunned.  
	"That won't hold him long."
	[10.372 seconds]
	"Only a few seconds," added Marcel, slowly getting to his feet.
	[Hey, watch it, diags show you cracked a rib.  You better 
fix that ASAP.]
	'Raelf shouldered the unconscious addict and started down the 
sewer.  "That's all we need."
	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."
	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?/
	"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.
	"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.]
	"I assume your ... 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."
-- 
Rick Jones				Systems Support Center
albert@bcm.tmc.edu			Baylor College of Medicine
Voice: 713-798-7352			standard disclaimers apply
	"Do not taunt Happy Fun Ball."-Saturday Night Live