From: rigler@galileo.ifa.hawaii.edu (Aaron Evans) Date: Tue, 15 Sep 1992 21:00:13 GMT Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: [KQ] Thk [Gaps] Down in the sewers (Part I) ["I can think of a lot worse places to be...like out in the street, or down in the sewer,...or even at the end of a skewer." -= The Stranglers =- ] In the street just outside the demolished joystix factory, Thk calls out to Kron and the others. "SSSsss...Eat and heal yourssselvess. I'll catch up to you ssshortly at Nesssstorssss." Then the lizardman pulls the manhole in place over his head and scrambles down into sewer tunnels leading to the Gaps beneath Generica... DOWN IN THE GAPS: ---------------- The skull faced warrior strains to carry an enormous crate down the damp tunnel after his master. Stumbling along behind these two are six henchmen paired off to bear three more of the crates. None of these men complains too loudly, for if they make it out alive with this salvaged supply of joystix, their high position in the druglord's new regime is assured. In the aftermath of the "KronQuestor invasion," these men and the narcotic they carry are all that remain of Elstrek's once-proud operation in the Low City. Elstrek leads their way through the Gaps, torch in one hand, poisoned dirk in the other. Always the professional, he postpones thoughts of mourning and revenge and concentrates instead on finding the correct path. These tunnels are mazelike. Some areas are full of T-crocks (and worse). Ah! Here is that special cross-passage to the western network. This narrow tube is the best way to get to the wharfs from this point. From the wharfs, Elstrek might hope to evade patrols long enough to reach his his smuggler contacts. Preferably the crew of the notorious Black Swan. Unfortunately, the sea is currently at high tide, and the passageway is flooded to a depth of two feet. "Arvor, come! This way!" the druglord whispers sharply. The skull faced giant grunts and changes direction to comply. He is weary to the bone after his encounter with the CyberKnight, and his armor is heavily dented and smeared with the blood of both men. But this mighty warrior is FAR from finished, and he will remain loyal to his master to the bitter end. Nevertheless, when his feet slosh into the water of the tunnel passage, he pauses warily and voices his concern. "Elstrek, I don't like it. Is there no other way?" "This is the best way. It's short. I've never had any problems here." But seeing that the men are worried, Elstrek calls for a short break and passes back two tubes of precious joystix. As always, Arvor declines (if he didn't Elstrek would fire him), but the others accept the boost gratefully. Strangely, the drug doesn't seem to have much effect this time, though no one dares to say so to Elstrek. "Right. Now men, if we run into trouble, DO NOT drop the product into the water. Just back out. I'll make a burning oil slick to cover our retreat." So the eight desperados move down the tunnel. Behind them, in the dwindling light of the torch, several pairs of eyes and associated dark reptilian shapes slither forth to slip into the water. At their rear, goading them forwards, is another reptilian form, but one which stands upright and grunts without words. A cunning plan has taken shape in its formless mind. Instead of following its servants, it turns and jogs away down a side branch of the tunnel network... ...Too long without meat. But this plan cannot fail. He draws a black long sword, which provides an eerie black-light glow to guide his passage. The cross-guard of the blade is carved into the shape of a demonic skull. The skull's recessed eyes smoulder red in anticipation of the upcoming slaughter. ---------------- ------------------ ------------------ ------------------- "Fah!" Thk realizes he is totally lost. Probably a mistake to blunder into these tunnels. Why so impulsive today? But 'Raelf reported sighting one of his people, perhaps a kinsman, down in here earlier. There are many reasons to make contact. A lizardman could provide a valuable vassal. If 'Raelf's description was correct, it could be a member of his tribe, or even a kins- man, one of his many brothers or sons. At any rate, a displaced lizardman might need his help, might bring important news from home, might might might. To many "mights" for his lizard brain stack. First step is to find him. But how, if he is lost himself? Thk pauses in his progress and leans his Elvish short sword against the damp wall. The oily rustproof alloy of the SeaKing's blade gives forth a soft light in proximity to water. Thk draws the matched dagger. "Gilliadrahath." He releases the daggar to float at eye level, where it spins slowly to point to north. A reliable compass. Thk sheaths the daggar, takes up the short sword, and turns to head towards the west, for in that way lies the ocean, and Sssuthruu knows what lies in the other directions (in the ongoing game of life, one must eliminate all lesser options and form up a plan out of the remainder). And yet, as soon as he turns his back on the east, he senses an indefineable feeling of loss in the pit of his stomach. The lizardman Shaman is accustomed to receiving such omens. He closes his eyes and turns back slowly to the East. As his eyes raise towards the ceil- ing, his mind is filled with the briefest flicker of a vision. More like an impression, really. There is a chamber of stone. An ancient elf. And... "The SSssilver Trident." Thk turns back to the west, and sloshes off through the ankle-deep water. His nostrils and flicking tongue soon pick up the familiar scent of T-crocks, that peculiar Generican breed of crocodile. He flexes his new left hand, eyeing the faint scarline where a particularly large specimen of T-crock took it off during the previous night's battle. Good of 'Raelf to give him a brand new hand. Pity about losing that ring though. It made for an ugly piece of jewelry, but Thk was fond of it. Of all the ornaments he'd plundered from the humans over a lifetime's butchery, that ring was one of two that fit him naturally and what's more, it never shows signs of rust. Amazing. Even in he corrosive presence of the Trident, that ugly looking ring never rusted. And now, it was lodged forever in the gut of some oversized T-crock. Blame it on the Wasters. Revenge scheduled for later this night. For now, keep the ears cocked for T-crocks and lizardmen... ---------------- ------------------ ------------------ ------------------- * slorp * "Pssst! Elstrek! Elstrek! I think I hear something. Behind us." "Cut it out Jerek!" * floop * "I said knock it off OH SHIT! SHIT! AaaaiIIIIIIIGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!" * THRASH SPLASH THRASH THRASH PLASH PLLOOOP GURGLE CHURN SLOSH FROTH * Suddenly, to Elstrek and Arvor's horror, the tunnel hallway behind them erupts into a bloody churning and the smothered screams of dying men. "Arvor! To me!" Thinking fast, Elstrek breaks the tops off of two crystal flasks and pours a slick of oil across the water's surface in the narrow tunnel. As his man Arvor reaches his side and passes him, he tosses the torch into the water. The two men turn and bolt for it, abandoning their henchmen. The air behind them is filled with the smell of burning meat -- both human and reptile. "Boss WAIT! WAIT!" * Growf! SNAP! * "GLEAAARRRRGHHH--" The two men stumble up the hallway in growing darkness. Arvor draws his Zweihander sword, which is still functional, though shorter by one foot after clashing with the CyberKnight's molecular blade. Elstrek draws two more flasks and mixes the contents, and the air is lit up once again. The flasks provide an eerie phosphorescent green glow which seems to do little to illuminate of their surroundings, instead chiefly serving to highlight the ghastly expressions of terror on the two men's faces. By any definition, it's been a tough day. "Damn! That was the last of the product." "Hah! Elstrek, we're lucky to be alive!" "Yeah...yeah, your right, Arvor. Let's get out of here. We can start over. Hah-hah! I have the formula memorized." "Whatever. I'll go first. You cover me and hold the light up. There may be more T-crocks." The two continue their progress, Arvor in the lead with Zweihander raised defensively, casting long shadows down the flooded passageway ahead. As they approach a four-way intersection, the tunnel widens appreciably and the waters deepen to waist level. Ahead lie the stairs leading up to the wharf. Arvor stops and holds up a hand. "Shhh!" There is a submerged glow in the waters before them. As they watch, the glow moves towards the stairs, and out of the water climbs a reptile, dripping with sewer slime. As it stands to its full height, the two humans recognize the form of the largest lizardman they have ever seen. It points its glowing sword directly down at them. "You!" Elstrek cries. ------------------------ --------------------------- ----------------------- \========C\ Rigler... \ <===========C ]==|[///////////////////]|==========|[////////////]D> // /========C/ ...Thk -- A hunger for life that can no longer be denied.