Path: usenet.ee.pdx.edu!cs.uoregon.edu!sgiblab!swrinde!news.dell.com!tadpole.com!uunet!not-for-mail From: guido@rbg.informatik.th-darmstadt.de (Guido Roessling) Newsgroups: rec.games.frp.archives Subject: STORY: Qelrik (part 34) Followup-To: rec.games.frp.misc Date: 25 Jul 1994 08:13:20 -0400 Organization: UUNET Technologies Inc, Falls Church, VA, USA Lines: 135 Sender: smm@uunet.uu.net Approved: smm@uunet.uu.net Message-ID: <310a90$q96@rodan.UU.NET> NNTP-Posting-Host: rodan.uu.net *************************************************************************** This story is a collaboration of seven people: one German, two Canadians and four Americans. Comments about particular characters should be forwarded to their character's "owners": Finn Ambrose - Sheryl Ann Galchutt* - fi48@sol.acs.unt.edu Gernodt - Guido Roessling - guido@rbg.informatik.th-darmstadt.de Dahlarin - Brent Hughes - bhughes@student.business.uwo.ca Kyle - J.E. Mason - ** no current mail address ** Fox - Barbara French - bcfrench@mailbox.syr.edu Will appear in future chapters: Gladrial - Jennifer Immel - bhughes@julian.uwo.ca Sir Percy - Bret Rudnick - rudnick@cfatrw.harvard.edu By now, there is even a FTP site that's archiving our story -- it's ftp.cs.pdx.edu. The directory to look out for is /pub/frp/stories/qelrik. *************************************************************************** ================================================================ A delayed meeting ==================================================================== Meanwhile, back at the Cloven Shield Inn... Fox rolled over slowly, her side throbbing. Her fingers traced Tsyon's bare shoulder, and she slipped out of bed as quietly as she could. He slept, his breathing easy and regular in slumber. It had been a fine evening. Supper conversation had largely centered on weapons and new technologies. Tsyon had admired her mail and asked questions about the process of making it. She explained that she had no idea, since she had taken the mail from a dead enemy on the field, which was a lie. Fox hated lying; she preferred to cloak truth with truth. It was easier than telling him she'd had it commissioned from the dark dwarves who lived in the desolate northern regions. Supper had led to a short walk through the town, where Tsyon told her of a woman he had lost recently, and was still searching. Fox told him a little of her own sometimes-lover from home, one of her squire-brothers, a former arena-slave named Luther. In build and size, Tsyon reminded her a great deal of Luther -- pleasantly so. Fox had been glad the innkeeper had given her a private room with a large bed -- originally by default, and because the innkeeper wished to give the healer privacy to work. The walk had led -- somewhat inevitably -- back to her room, to night pleasures and blessed escape. She dressed slowly, careful not to wake him as she pulled on her breeches, blouse, a woolen doublet and boots. That afternoon, she had sent out s barmaid to purchase a new coat to replace the one with the ripped side. Unfortunately, none of the tailors in town seemed to make coats, only cloaks, but she had returned with a warm, dark gray wool cloak with double shoulders and a generous hood. Fox preferred a riding-coat, but that might have to wait. Fox slipped out the door of her room, closing it gently and waiting for any noise inside from her sleeping bed-partner. Nothing. She tried to walk as softly as possible, a skill she had learned in her younger days while still living on the streets of the main city of her far-off Empire. It was interesting to see how such skills returned with as much ease as they did. * * * * * * * * She had no idea what time it was, but it was still full dark. This time, however, her sword was in easy reach, and her green eyes darted to take in her surroundings. She extended her senses a bit, something she ought to have done the night before. She had been complacent; it was not a mistake she would make again. The streets were as deserted as they appeared. She stopped for a moment to try to remember the directions she'd been given. Her reference point, the locksmith's shop, was at her right. For about fifteen minutes, Fox walked as swiftly as she could, although her hurt side slowed her progress. Nothing approached her as she travelled. A small path, hardly noticeable by the casual traveller, seemed to glow before her, moving off the road. Without hesitation, Fox stepped off the road and followed the narrow, winding path, her feet moving noiselessly over the packed earth. The moon was almost full and the sky was clear, giving Fox almost full daylight vision. She could sense the rustling of small animals nearby, and she stopped a moment to readjust her aura, to strip the facade she normally wore in public. As she stood, eyes half-closed, she could see the wavering colors change, from a warm, golden light, to the normal crimson-purple of her own aura. Small animals were not stupid. They would leave her alone. Besides, the High Priestess Pasithea did not know her personally, and she didn't want to confuse her. But she would be expecting an Ilar. She walked in silence for another ten minutes or so, when a stone cottage melted out of the surrounding darkness to coalesce at the end of the path. Weak light clawed its way around the edges of tight shutters. Fox stopped again, this time stripping off her gloves completely and rolling back her left sleeve. A large pewter doorknocker glared at her from the center of the large, black door. As instructed, Fox pulled back the handle and knocked seven times. She waited. After a full minute, the door opened slowly. A human woman of about sixty years glared out at her guest. Without a word, Fox lifted her left arm, showing the woman the back of her hand and forearm to the elbow. "You are welcome in this house, Ilar," the woman said, "and the blessings of Our Lord be upon you." "I am honored to step into your house, sra'krin Pasithea," Fox murmured with a bow of her head, "and I thank you for your blessing." "I expected you last night," Pasithea replied, a thinly veiled rebuke. "And I planned to be on time. But as I started to walk here, I was delayed. I will explain later." ************************************************************************* Next Time: Mission given, rewards bestowed... *************************************************************************