From: hutch@hutch (Stephen Hutchison)
Subject: [DQ] Aftermath The First.
Reply-To: hutch@ibeam.intel.com
Organization: Intel Corp., Hillsboro, Oregon
Date: Sun, 23 Aug 92 01:46:15 GMT


ADMIN: I sent this out once already with a bogus header, on the Kron thread,
because my Pnews program coredumps.  Apple Logy eyes.

What_has_gone_before:  The Dragon Questors, assaulted by an unknown and
hitherto unexpected enemy (called by its enthralled victims "Dark Master")
have managed to thwart the first assault ... somehow.  SunStorm's spirit
was from his body untimely rip't, and by the sheer luck of having an
artificer-mage nearby to help patch things up, ShockWave, his sword, has
taken up dual residence in order to keep the body functioning and keep
the ... THINGS ... from possessing the giant's miniaturized frame.

So the others, victorious, force-healed (and therefore exhausted and
famished) are returning to the sanctuary of the Dragon's Inn, hoping
that they can recuperate, safe from other attacks, until they can
re-mount their own assault.

-----

Serene tsk-tsks at the five bloodied but exhausted adventurers as they
enter the Inn.  She signals the mop-boy, who brings his mop bucket over,
and then a salver, sponge, and pitcher of cold water.

"Wash," she commands, "You'll not be getting that mess all over, Mary
would NOT be pleased."  

'Raelf shrugs, FLICK-flash and any stray gore that he had picked up from
Lancos or Valgar is gone.  He takes stock of his current travel partners.
Valgar's clothes are torn, with blood all over the torn jacket and the
leather wrist guards.

"Hey, amigo, you got some serious rips there.  Want me to fix, I'll have
to hold you off until later, I'm pretty drained from helping out our tall
friend here."  He looked with dismay at Kadrys' clothing, similarly
shredded, and at the holes in SunStorm's armor.  "Well, at least I can
clean y'all up, dudes."  A touch, a brief flickering, and their clothes
are cleaned of unwanted organics (including any animated ones).

Valgar uses the water and sponge, reveling in the feeling of clean water.
Meanwhile, Marux has efficiently removed all traces of blood from the floor.
A copper coin is tossed his way by Lancos, and he grins happily and clears
off the cleaning supplies.

The weary group slumps down into their regular seats near the smaller
fireplace.  A small crowd of patrons forms, trying to find out what all
that fuss and bother was about, until Serene shoos them away as she
brings them drinks and some fresh bread.  Kadrys shakes his head once,
when she looks his way.  She shrugs.  The vampire turns to the sword-
operated mini-giant next to him, and and begins to give instructions in
how to handle eating, drinking, and the swallow reflex.

'Raelf takes out the flat magical case he's been seen to use here.  The
amulet, from around his neck, is removed and placed in a receptacle on
the top of the case.  Another small crystal is placed in a small hole.
<<Activate.  Boot playback-analysis monitor.>>  The air above the case
begins to glow faintly, and runes appear.  'Raelf touches the crystal
from the amulet, and an image of the pyra-cubic-diamond-thing begins to
show, in the air above the case.  It begins to flash, perspective changing,
decomposing into several different structures, and a set of pale green
runes appears.

"Oh merde.  Analysis mode four running.  Please stand by.  Guys, it is
NOT a simple spell-remote, it is a bloody artifact.  This could take hours."
He taps the side of the case, and the image goes away, leaving only the faint
runes in the air.  "Well, while we're waiting, I did find some things out."

He leans back, takes a deep draft of his ale.

"I know how the dragon was taken."

ShockWave/SunStorm sits bolt-upright in his chair, half-choking on the
bread he'd been eating.  "Wha'  Wh're <gulp, gasp> where did he go,
what did you find out, can we rescue him now?"

"Hey, slow, chill out, dude.  I can't do anything major for the next
three-four hours until I've rested some, the analyzer has to keep
running so we can trace 'Storm, and YOU need to get more food into that
short little body.  That healing can come undone unless you provide it
with the mass it needs to be real, so you feed your face, 'kay?"

"WHERE.  Is.  the.  dragon?"  SunStorm/ShockWave demands.

"No doubt, he's in the same place as your better half, 'Wave.  See, when
I chowed on that first gargoyle bitch, she was pretty far gone, but she
did have some memory, and the second one had some serious recollection
of the Krastin geekoid making them all do real rude things with the dead
folks in this cemetary place.  They had their nest in the mausoleum there.
Oh, and I think we got 'em all.  The guy who set off that radically noxious
word, was like their papa-smurf.  The head mojo gargoyle.  They had another
one was a mage, his egg-brother, but I think we got him, too.  Anyway, they
used to be quite the big family, but this Krastin guy came along and turned
their boss-mama all to mud with this wand he had.  So Tonguerot, that was the
boss, he mad a deal with Krastin, they serve him, he gets them food and
doesn't mushy them out."

<swig>

"So the day of the riots, which is when Krastin first met up with you
dudes, I guess, ol' Krakpot gives a bunch of juju dust to Tonguerot,
and makes him and the other gargoyles start doin' the nasty to the
dead folks in the cemetary.  Ritual magic and all that.  Raised a couple
dozen of the bodies as zombies and moving skeletons and that sort of
fun stuff.  Anyway, from out of nowhere, this big huge nasty dragon
comes roarin' out of the sky, and does in about a third of them, breathin
nasty bolts of fire and stuff."

"That would be lightning," SunStorm/ShockWave interjected.

"Right, so he slagged about a third of the nest in midair, and then Krastin
pulls this bottle out of his cloak and chugs it down, and starts to
give orders to dragon.  So dragon falls down, and when it comes to, Krastin
makes it drink some nasty lookin' gunk out of another bottle and it shrinks
down to about size of crocodile.  Then we finish messin' the dead folks,
and the zomboids all drag shrunk dragon with 'em off toward za ocean.  So
Tonguerot follow he, and come back a bit later, say something about ghost
boat and we is kill Krastin as soon as we could."

'Raelf shakes his head.  "Sorry.  New memory trace, still hot."

He shudders.  He takes another swig.  It seems to help.  He touches his
head.  The crystal pops off, into his hand.  He stares at it blankly.

"Oh yeah.  Better put this in the charger.  See y'all in a minute, dudes."

He rises, stretches, goes to the stairway up to the second common room
and runs up it.  Food is delivered to the table as he disappears through
the door.

While he's gone, the others discuss the revelation.  Nearby, his twin
listens in.  Good.  Things are still diverging.  Ah, Alita has come in.
Good, this ought to get real interesting.

A few minutes later 'Raelf comes back, dropping off the stairwell in an
excess of energy.  "Woah. (thump)  Hey, dudes.  Brought ya something."

He is carrying a pair of sticks, a handful of flat rocks, and a dagger.
He has changed his clothes, and is wearing the short loose breeks he
usually wears.  The voidsuit is elsewhere.

"After that latest bogosity, I figured we might need some extras.  I just
put together some bits and pieces I had in my workbench."

They stare at him blankly.

"Hey, dudes, I make this stuff for a living.  I fer shur have spares for
the easy stuff lying around."

Still no comprehension.  Kadrys finally says, "Spares for WHAT easy stuff?"

"This, amigo, is a magicked dagger.  It has bladesharp, so it won't go
dull, and it has durable-weapon, so it won't break, and it has hungry-tooth,
so it will help hit a bit harder, or a bit more accurately.  Standard
magicked dagger, nothing real special.  If I had a week and an emerald or
a ruby I could make it nastier.  This only took an hour subjective."

"The sticks, also magicked.  I hopped up a pair of practice batons I had
put together to practice Arnis.  They've got durable-weapon, two shots of
hungry-strike, and four points of impact-amplifier.  Hits harder, won't
break, and helps hit nerve points.   OH, hey, food!  All right!"

He sits down, putting the weapons and the rocks on the table.  A leg from
the game bird is left on the carcass that Serene had brought.  He snabs it.

"One or t'other of these is for our friend Valgar, here, who took some major
pain for not having a weapon on hand that could keep off those rock-brains."

Valgar examines the dagger and the sticks, testing the edge and the heft,
feeling the knurl a hand-width up each stick, noting how they exactly reach
one cubit from end to end.

"These rocks, here, are ablative armor.  Keep the rock on your
person at all times, and any time something hits you that would have
broken the skin or caused a bruise, the rock takes the damage instead.
Good for about six or eight good solid whacks apiece before they crumble.
Got one each for y'all.  They ought to work OK for the 'Wave dude, keep
the ol' bod functional, and I THINK they work for you, Lancos, cause your
armor isn't all that magical.  You got that weird can't-touch-this trick
I saw you pull, but the rock should still have priority if something would
make you bleed."

He pauses, examining the runes above the magical case.  Nothing yet.

"Hey, looks like we have some leisure time.  Anyone want to learn a
game?  Lancos, Valgar?"

================

Time will turn, and all comes around again
to that point where bravery and cowardice fade
into irrelevant memory, and all that counts
is the safety of a warm bed and food on the table.