Subj : CITY] Move 1.1a: Of Old Men And Fish-heads
To   : All
From : Andrew_S._Toth@wlm.toronto.on.ca
Date : Thu Aug 17 2000 04:15 pm

From: Andrew_S._Toth@wlm.toronto.on.ca (Andrew S. Toth)
Subject: CITY] Move 1.1a: Of Old Men And Fish-heads
Organization: W. L. Mackenzie C. I.



David Dror writes:


> One quick thing before I talk about this move -- I forgot something that =
20

> should be important for my character plans in the city (I know things=20

> won't go as planned, but Samar wouldn't come to Tandagor without a=20

> letter of introduction from one of his former=20

> acquaintances/friends/employers.  He would want a letter to either some=20

> form of ceremonial or practical guard in the city and a letter to one of =
20

> the cities aristocrats/merchant princes to put him inside the party scene=
..


Alright. I'll work that out when we get there.


Move 1.1a: Of Old Men And Fish-heads


Samar: 'There is no need to be insulting, you know.  I don't know what this=
=20

Sama ... Samar Cel-whatever epithet means, but I don't think I want to=20

know. However, I'll have to assume you're refering to me, since you did jus=
t=20

throw a very disgusting fish at me.  In case you've gotten me confused=20

with someone else, which I sincerely hope is the case, my name is=20

Telur.'


'You know full well what tripe that is, trout-bait=21' snaps the scratchy v=
oice, just as another fish-head flies past Samar's shoulder, and droplets o=
f greasy water splatter into his right cheek as he turns. By now, Samar can=
 see the fish-chucker in the corner of his eye. An old man with scraggly ha=
ir and a busted leg stands solidly on his good one, another fish-head in hi=
s hand. His other hand points angrily at Samar. A smaller person crouches b=
eside him, trying not to attract attention. Shoulder-length brown hair fall=
s irreparably tangled, and scarred hands shake as they gut a fish.


> OOC:  I beleive that's the alias I had chosen for Tandagor, but I seem to=
=20

> have forgotten, and don't seem to have it written down.  Could you please=
 send > back to me my full char. app.?=20


OOC: Actually, it was Celin Tel.


Samar: 'And who might you be, my rude friend?'


The old man cackles a little, almost insanely. Samar is now turned fully ar=
ound, and as such, easily dodges the third projectile fish. Taking a closer=
 look, Samar seems to recognize the old-timer...the face is scarred and wor=
n, but he recalls the only servant at his uncle's house. They had been on r=
elatively good terms when he had left, despite the views voiced by the rest=
 of his family. The servant had had a daughter, but she was mentally lackin=
g, and he had had to split his time between serving the house and tending t=
o his daughter. Samar had, on occasion when bored, looked after Miranda. Ge=
nerally, it only served to make him more bored, but at least he was his goo=
d deed for the day.

'I'm not your friend, Samar, and don't think you can bear a different name =
and not be recognized=21 The city guard is hot for young rascals like you, =
and you'll soon be in prison, no doubt=21'

The old man then grabs the figure beside him by a hand, dragging the person=
 along behind as he makes his way through the people along the harbour. Hig=
h-pitched moans and other objectionary, non-speech noises emit from the per=
son, and Samar catches a short glimpes of a dirty feminine face.


Andrew




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