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- From: albert@chain.ssctr.bcm.tmc.edu (Rick Jones)
- Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
- Subject: Krupp Faraway [Inn] Introduction
- Date: 21 Jan 1993 23:32:49 GMT
- Organization: Baylor College of Medicine, Houston, Tx
- Lines: 92
- Distribution: world
- Message-ID: <1jnbr2INN6pm@gazette.bcm.tmc.edu>
- NNTP-Posting-Host: chain.ssctr.bcm.tmc.edu
-
- It was cold that day in the City of Fountains. I woke up in a
- pile of garbage, covered with snow. Nicky the Weasel must have spotted me
- tailing him. When you're a private investigator, you often wake up in
- strange places. Personally, I prefer to wake up next to a beautiful dame
- than a pile of refuse, but you take what you can get. I wearily got to my
- feet and looked around. It was evening, and for some godsforsaken reason,
- it was snowing. I figured some wizard had been playing with his wand
- again. Lacking a real plan of what to do next, I looked for my hat.
- Lucky for me it was right next to me and I didn't have to fight with the
- rats for it. I still felt woozy, but not too cold. The snow was cold to
- the touch, but I didn't have a chill even after snoozing in it for at
- least a few hours. Wizards. It had been early afternoon when I was
- tailing Nicky. Creft's thugs must be getting better. I decided to
- compliment the big slug on it next time I saw him.
- I brushed some filth off my fedora, tightened the belt on my
- overcoat, and started walking. Dinner sounded like a good idea, but then
- it always does. I sniffed my coat, and thank the gods it didn't reek of
- garbage. Good thing too, I wanted a real meal, and a stink would mean I'd
- have to go home and change. Home might be watched too. Public was the
- watchword. And there's no place more public than the Dragon's Inn.
- Littlefair runs a good joint. It caters to the wierdos of the
- city, but if you're a giant demigod vampire psionic drow archmage, I
- suppose that, like the 800 year old dragon, you can eat where you want.
- Best of all, it was spelled against violence, and even though I felt fine,
- I really didn't want to get coshed twice in one day.
- The streets were starting to roll up in Merchant's Hill, with all
- the fatcats locking and warding their stores for the evening. Guess they
- were too busy to notice a little guy like me, 'cause I almost got ran over
- twice by overeager greengrocers on their way home to the wife and 8.5
- kids.
- As always, the Inn was crowded, but not so much that a guy
- couldn't find a good seat. I looked for my regular table, close to the
- fire, but with my back to the wall. Sure it's spelled for safety, but
- Mama Faraway's little boy Krupp never didn't get to be this old by taking
- things for granted. Besdies, it looked like there had been some sort of
- ruckus earlier. I sat comfortably into the chair, and stuck my feet out
- towards the fire. Ah, bliss.
- So, things were going well until this goobah starts to sit down on
- me. "Hey," I shouted. He looked down at me. Another bigdumbjock
- fighter.
- "Whoah, sorry there little buddy. I didn't spot ya."
- Normally, I would have let that slide, but the 'little buddy' line
- stuck in my craw. Hey, I'm short, I admit it. Halflings are. But the
- patronizing tone bugged me. Is it our fault that we look like human
- children? The patronizing tone we so often get is one of the few things
- that really bother me. So, I looked him straight in the eye, and gave him
- my best withering stare. "I'm not your buddy, big guy. Pay attention
- next time."
- He visibly blanched, and started to stammer an apology. I waved
- him off. The old hairy eyeball usually didn't work that well. I must
- have been getting better at it.
- "Well, hello there, Krupp," said Serene, my absolutely faveorite
- waitress. "I didn't see you come in." She smiled. "Would you like your
- usual?"
- "Yup, and bring me a bowl of pretzels please." My trailed detective
- eyes noticed the gurgling baby slung on her hip. I didn't think she was
- due for a month or so yet, but then I never was too curious about human
- babies. Halfling ones are enough trouble. Main reason I got off the
- farm. I didn't want to settle down and have a bunch of them. Mostly
- snotty nosed, and wet bottomed little buggers. Not for Krupp, thank you
- very much. This one seemed rather pleasant, and burped happily. I
- restrained myself from making kootchie-koo noises back.
- "Be right back," she said, and moved easily through the crowd. I
- leaned back in my chair and wiggled my toes close to the fire. Bliss. I
- started formulating plans for how to get the case back in motion. The
- crowd was starting to pick up. I must have just beat the "just a pint on
- the way home, dear" crowd. I spied Serene worming her way through the
- crowd, the tray with my ale and pretzels perched precariously above her.
- With a deft move, she slipped between two regulars, and brought the tray
- down to shoulder level.
- "One Bayle's Ale, and a bowl of pretzels." She didn't see the mook
- behind her stumble backwards, and bump into her. I raised my hand out
- reflexively to catch the tray. The tray, the beer, and even the preztels
- passed through me, and landed on the floor next to me. I patted myself
- down.
- "Not a drop on me. Nice trick, Serene." She was looking at me
- strangely.
- "But I didn't do anything," she protested. I raised an eyebrow at
- her, and reached down to pick up the spilled mug. My hand passed through
- it. Serene bent over me, a concerned look in her eye. She stuck out a
- hand to poke me on the shoulder. It went through me too.
- "Is there a wizard in the house?" she asked.
-
- [ADMIN: people who can figure out what happened to Krupp would be any of the
- numerous wizards in the place, the clerics, and Kadrys. I've gotten email
- from 'Raelf that he's interested in Krupp, anyone else interested, contact
- me via email. (albert@bcm.tmc.edu)]
- --
- Rick Jones | This is my costume.
- albert@bcm.tmc.edu | I'm a homicidal maniac.
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