Date:         Thu, 13 Jun 1996 11:37:59 -0700
Reply-To: kat@pdh.com
From: Kathleen Reinholz <kat@PDH.COM>
Subject:      INT: A Call to Arms - To Market, To Market
Comments: cc: AverusTJB@aol.com, Chris Vaughn <space.cowboy@worldnet.att.net>,
          CK <VIXXEN@sojourn.com>, Dale Anson <dale@anson.compulink.co.uk>,
          Janell <robisch@sprynet.com>, Samuel <spider@wizard.com>

Reserved: Myce Elf, Mat, Mer, Merwin
          Deog's Ghost (Raini)
          Tolstoy (Chris V.)
          Conk (Dale)

Shared: Dug, Ruck, Brin, Dan, Damon

A map of the region can be found off of
<http://web.mit.edu/mbarker/www/writers.html

Note:  The following Interactive Thread has a plot.  If you would
like to participate, please contact kat@pdh.com, and I will forward
the outline and list of characters to you.  As always, critiques and
comments are most appreciated.
--------------------------------------------------------------

        "What do you mean I don't have the proper permits?  I was
told that everything was in order!!!" Myce yelled at the fat
bureaucrat sitting across from her.

        "You do have everything in order, to gain entry to Dragon's
Tooth.  You do not have the proper permits to do trade here.  The
only way that you can sell your cargo is to pay the fees up front,
and get the license in your name.  The name on this paper is Deog --
Now, if you can get that old scoundrel into my office, we can do
business."  The fat old man leaned over his desk, looking down
Myce's blouse. He licked his blubbery lips, and a few strands of
greasy grey hair fell into his eyes. "If you close the door,  maybe
we can arrange some alternate method of payment."

        Myce strode angrily out of the Merchant's Guild. "Damned
pencil pushing no good sumufa twit.  Imagine, me, with him! Ugh!
Men!  C'mon Tolstoy -- let's go."  Myce Elf mounted her giant lion
friend and they rode down the street, scaring the dickens out of the
normal traffic.  Tolstoy was baring his teeth, and Myce was singing
an adventuring song while people were jumping into doorways, under
tables and into baskets trying to get away from the fiersome duo.

        They made their way to the baker's stand, and bought two
dozen hot crusty rolls, since the rolls were Mat's favorite.  Myce
saw a few articles of clothing that she liked.  She dismounted from
Tolstoy's back, to talk to the wizened seamstress who was peddling
her beautiful wares.

        "Excuse me, madame.  Do you happen to have any clothing in
my size?  I'm looking for some adventuring clothes."

        The old crone looked at the wee lady.  "Come back in an
hour.  I'll have some for you then."

        Myce smiled, and began to purchase some other supplies --
dickering with the vendors, laughing at the antics of the street
juggler, her earlier frustrations forgotten for the moment.  She had
 arranged for a load of oranges, water, and other food stuffs to be
delivered to the ship, filled two large wicker baskets with clothes
for herself and the crew.  She had the baskets placed on Tolstoy's
back, and was heading back to the DarkWind when in the alley she
heard a cry for help.

        Myce looked around, no one was going to come to the aid of
the victim.  She hopped back on Tolstoy, drew her curved sword, and
entered into the dark alley.  Tolstoy picked his way around the
debris littering the ground, finally coming upon a gang of four
teenagers beating up on boy.  A black raven flew furiously in and
out of the fray, flapping its wings and pecking at the assaulters.

        Tolstoy let out a roar that shook the alley way.  All four
attackers looked up.  White with terror, they turned tail and ran
out of the alley in the opposite direction of the large beast.  Myce
climbed down, and took the hand of the boy.  He looked to be about
13 years old, with slightly tired brown eyes. He was quite tall for
his age and stocky. A mop of dark hair, black with undertones of
bronze, sat on his head like a badly placed hat.

        "Thanks for helping me out," the boy said as he smiled.
His nose was badly bent across across the right side of his big
square face, making his lop-sided smile even more lop-sided.

        "It's nothing that anyone else couldn't have done. Are you
alright?" Myce asked.  Tolstoy looked down at the child, sniffing at
his dirty clothes.

        "Yes, I'm Conk.  Who is this?" Conk began petting Tolstoy,
scratching the place right behind the lion's right ear.  Tolstoy let
out a loud purrring sound.

        "This is Tolstoy. I am Myce Elf, the captain of the
DarkWind.  I am looking for a few good crew members, if your
interested."  Myce smiled at the boy.  He certainly had an affinity
for animals.  The raven settled down on the boy's shoulder, and
focused a beady black eye on the elf.  "Well, we better go -- I have
to finish provisioning my ship."

        "I'll think about it." Conk replied.

        "Well, we leave in the morning.  If you want to come along,
be on board by then."  Myce climbed back up on Tolstoy's back.
"Let's go, Tolstoy."  She grabbed her mandolin from her carryall and
began to play a tune of the high seas as Tolstoy went headed back
to the DarkWind.