Gernodt makes his entry
			=======================


Midnight was approaching and the wind was still howling furiously outside 
the pub.  The heavy downpour which had begun in the early afternoon was 
just starting to slacken and some customers were starting for the door.

Suddenly, with a tremendous clap of thunder, there was a heavy pounding 
at the door, as if someone was kicking it hard.
Having reached the door first, a dwarf opened it - only to find himself 
standing in front of a human's back of truly astounding dimensions. 

The legs of this human, who obviously seemed to be a fighter of some 
sort, a barbarian perhaps, were heavily muscled and clad in only soft 
leather.  It was only after a few moments that he recognized the reason 
why this stranger had not entered the tavern on his own - he was 
bleeding slightly from a crossbow bolt in his right leg, just above his 
kneecap, and was engaged in a furious melee with two humanoid beings. 
Before the dumbfounded dwarf could do more than blink his eyes a few 
times, the first of the attackers fell to the giant's mighty blows of 
his two-handed sword, followed by the second, who fell victim to the 
weapon's next blow.  Instead of falling down and dying, as should be 
expected of any human beings, however, they turned a misty color and 
shrank until only a small piece of skin remained of them.

Panting hard, the stranger turned, cleaning his massive sword with a few 
swipes.  Grunting slightly, he stooped and, with a fast movement, pulled 
the bloodied bolt out of his knee.  Blood streaming freely from the wound,
he did something with his hands and the bleeding stopped as if there 
had never been a wound.  Looking up at the dwarf, he smiled at him.
The dwarf failed to check a gasp when he saw the man's face - it was 
bereft of any hair and seemed to consist primarily of scar tissue. 
Smiling at the dwarf's gasp,the giant said "Sorry to shock you with my
looks.  My name's Gernodt.  I'd like to thank you for opening the door for 
me, so if you could find a place and a few tankards of ale...".  Placing 
his massive sword in its shield on his back, Gernodt ducked slightly to 
pass through the door.  He was, the dwarf realized, not a giant, but a human 
who could be easily mistaken for a giant - he must have been roughly 7' 
tall and had broader shoulders than the dwarf had ever seen before.
Taking a seat at his former table and ordering two mugs of ale, he askingly
looked at the man called Gernodt...

"So, who are you ?  I've never seen someone like you before ...?", he said.

     The watcher's interest had perked as he had watched the giant man dispel 
the powerful spell.  Necromancy!  And with the unmistakable style of one he 
knew  all too well.  Intently, he listened to the man introduce himself to 
the dwarf. 
Listening, hoping for that one word....


"Well, as I already mentioned, my name is Gernodt, Gernodt T'Slorung, in fact.
I was born a normal man, but certain troubles with mages as well as other 
unpleasant things I'd rather not talk about", Gernodt said, touching his 
scarred face for a moment, "made me the way I am today...  I've come here 
in search for a job as well as some information - perhaps you might be 
able to help me...  I'm a trained fighter, as I'm sure you've noticed,
experienced with most types of melee and missile weaponry.  However, I'm 
also a small dabbler in healing magic.  I'm presently searching for a 
job - I was told that someone wanted to meet me here tonight and I 
hope he hasn't already gone.  I'm also looking for all kinds of information 
about a certain Qelrik, a dark mage who's been plaguing me for
years now.".  He paused for a moment to look expectantly at the dwarf,
as well as at all others sitting nearby.  Some of them seemed to have 
been listening to his story, while others were still trying vainly to 
take their eyes from his hulking frame and scarred, bald face....

    'Qelrik!  At long last, someone with the information I seek!', the
watcher thought.  And the man with the information had every reason to hate 
the mage as much as the watcher did.  Introductions were definitely necessary.

     Clutching his amulet, he incanted the familiar words.  In the shadows of
the inn, a careful observer would have noticed a slight distortion in the air,
like heat radiating off of desert sands.  The distortion intensified briefly 
and the watcher walked out of the shadows.  Waiting quietly until the barkeep 
had delivered his message, the watcher stepped forward.

     "If you have a moment, good sir, I might save you the trip.  My name is
Dahlarin, and I know a little of the mage Qelrik you seek.  I too seek
information on him, perhaps together, we might fill in some missing pieces..."

******************************************************************************
Next Time:
Gernodt tells his story...
******************************************************************************