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Message no. 1
From: Skrub <skrub@******.SSNET.COM>
Subject: Wyrm Talk, Harlequin's Back
Date: Tue, 2 Aug 1994 17:39:34 -0400
A while ago someone posted a message pointing at specific point sof
intersection between SR and ED. In it they mentioned Wyrm Talk (or some
similar name, which explains Harlequin and Dunkesomethingorother's
relationship) and Halaster's Back (where he and Vestrial discuss the
coming Scourge). I was wondering how, where, or who I need to find to get
ahold of these :)

Thanx,
Skrub
Message no. 2
From: Doctor Doom <JCH8169@***.TAMU.EDU>
Subject: Re: Wyrm Talk, Harlequin's Back
Date: Wed, 10 Aug 1994 01:58:52 -0500
Von Skrub:

>A while ago someone posted a message pointing at specific point sof
>intersection between SR and ED. In it they mentioned Wyrm Talk (or some
>similar name, which explains Harlequin and Dunkesomethingorother's
<Dunkelzahn>
>relationship) and Halaster's Back (where he and Vestrial discuss the
>coming Scourge). I was wondering how, where, or who I need to find to get
>ahold of these :)

Upon checking my personal archive, I noticed -- much to my chagrin -- that I
presently retain a copy of only one of the documents to which you allude (one
of my archives has ... disappeared). Still, half is better than nothing.

"WYRM TALK"

by Tom Dowd, otherwise known by his title, the Dark Lord on High

"There's a dragon here to see you." I said evenly.
He glanced up casually from either the papers strewn about the coffee
table or the data-screen lying on top of them; I couldn't tell which. The
slice of pizza in his hand dripped grease onto the pile. "Oh," he asked.
"Which one?"
"How in God's name should I know?" I replied. He could be such a pain
sometimes. "You haven't started teaching me that yet."
He smiled and put the pizza slice down on the table. "Of course, my
dear" he said, standing. "Soon, soon."
"So?" I asked, dropping my hands onto my hips.
His eyebrow raised. "So?"
"There's a fraggin dragon here to see you!"
He idly licked some of the grease from his hand. "Well, yes, you just
told me that."
He'd made me promise to stop trying to hit him, but sometimes.... "Do
you want to just leave him out there?"
"No. Of course not!" he replied. "How could you think that. That
would be quite rude. Ask him in."
"Don't you think he's a little big for the doorways?" I figured that
was ultimately a stupid question. In the short time that I'd been with him I'd
learned, if nothing else, that the obvious was rarely that and the impossible
the norm.
He tilted his head and smiled in his damnable "I know lots of things
you don't." look. "Why don't we let him decide, eh?"
I shrugged. "Fine, why don't we. It's your repair bill." I turned and
was about to leave the room when a thought occurred to me. I paused, and
looked back at him. He was bending down for the pizza slice.
"Um, I don't know what dragons are into," I said, "but I figure you
might want to put some clothes on before he comes in."
He looked up at me, and then down at himself. "Yes, I suppose," he
said. "But how do you know it's a he?" Someday I was going to hit him so hard
they'd need a closed casket.
Out back, I paused, straightened my clothes, and walked briskly into
the garden. It was sitting there, right where it had landed, curiously
watching the poi circling in a nearby shallow pool. Its sapphire and silver
scales reflected the late afternoon sun, changing the garden into a Maxfield
Parish painting. The dragon seemed oblivious to my presence, intent instead
on the motions of the goldfish. I didn't want to -- was afraid to -- disturb
it. If I did it would move and --
"Is he home?" it asked. I should have been ready for the speech, I'd
heard it when it'd first landed, but I wasn't. I heard it clearly, but it
didn't move. Nothing on it moved.
Startled, I took a step back up the flagstone steps. "I...I mean, yes,
yes he is."
"I didn't mean to frighten you, you know." Its great head swung slowly
toward me. There was a glint of light somewhere deep behind its eyes. It could
have swallowed me whole, right then and there, and I'd have never noticed.
"I understand..."
"Can I go in? It's very tiring keeping my tail in the air like this,
and this is such a wonderful garden."
I looked up at its tail suspended a number of stories above me. There
were barbs on the end. Giant hooks that could -- It was gone....
"I can go in, then? Yes?" came a strange voice.
I looked down. The dragon was gone, vanished. In its place stood a
young man, younger than me, maybe twenty or so, garbed in a fine Arabian suit
of the most beautiful blue silk I had ever seen. His skin was pale, and his
features those of Michelangelo's David. His eyes stood out as a sharp silver
and blue sparkle. I laughed, stupidly.
He smiled. "Oh dear, I've startled you again. I am sorry."
I tried to smile a little myself. "I didn't know dragons could do
that." I said sheepishly. I'd taken a few more steps backward without
realizing it.
He walked toward me and placed one finger to his lips as he passed.
"Please don't tell anyone, it's supposed to be a secret."
More secrets, I thought. No problem. It was sure as hell more
interesting than Missouri.
The modern decor of the house seemed to intrigue him. He questioned
me on the creator of every piece of art he saw, but only paused once to lean
in for a better look at the Warhol, God knows why. I led him upstairs, and
deciding to be grandiose, threw wide the study doors as he entered.
He grinned, and strode past me. "May I present, Dunkelzahn," I said
as he entered.
The man the dragon had come to see stood as we entered. He hadn't
cleaned up the room any; it still reeked of sausage and pepperoni, but he
had clothed himself in a simple outfit of black boots and denim pants, and one
of the white cotton shirts he'd bought the other day. He'd kept his face
unpainted.
"My it's been some time, hasn't it?" he said, touching the fingers of
his left hand to his chest, just below the heart. I'd seen him do that a few
times, but he'd never explained what it meant. I think, however, it meant he
was viewing the new arrival as an equal; thank God.
"Yes, it has Harlequin," replied the dragon, repeating the gesture.
"I
was pleased to here of the outcome of your chal'han." Dunkelzahn didn't turn,
but I felt his presence on me for just a moment. Obviously, there were no
secrets from him.
Harlequin grinned. "I'll bet you were." He gestured at the black
leather mushroom couch across from him. "Won't you sit down?"
The dragon nodded. "Thank you." He reached the couch, looked down at
it for a moment, and the carefully sat himself. Only after he was fully down
and stable, did he lean back. He smiled.
"So, what can I do for you?" inquired Harlequin. "I take it you
are
aware of my status?"
Harlequin's head cocked. "You mean as host of Wyrm Talk?"
I laughed to myself. Dunkelzahn had been interviewed by an
international media team shortly after re-emerging. He'd apparently enjoyed
the experience, especially his spontaneous cross-examination of the
journalists, so much that he requested his own show from one of the networks.
In the intervening years he'd only focused on the idea long enough to have
three shows produced. Harlequin and I had watched the show the last time that
it had been on. The dragon, obviously enthralled with modern culture, spent
the whole program commenting on anything and everything. In a couple of
segments he'd taken the idea of confrontational journalism to such an extreme
that I suggested the show should have been renamed Wyrm Food.
Dunkelzahn grinned. "Exactly so. I find the whole concept of media
fascinating. Free, unrestricted information exchange. Who would have
imagined?"
"Well, I wouldn't exactly call it unrestricted," said Harlequin.
"No," agreed the dragon, "nor would I. Which is exactly why I'm
here."
"Oh?"
"I would like you to be the subject of my next program."
"What!" Harlequin exclaimed, leaping to his feet.
I laughed aloud and then clamped my hand over my mouth. Harlequin
glared at me for a split second, and I'd probably regret it later, but it was
such a joy seeing him surprised.
"Well, yes," continued the dragon, "I think you'd make a wonderful
guest."
Harlequin ran his hand through his hair as he shook his head. "Of all
the things I was expecting to talk about..."
"But, Harlequin, you were always the best storyteller. Just think of
how these humans would be enthralled by the things you could tell them! There's
so much they just don't understand --"
"And I'm certainly not going to tell them!" interrupted Harlequin.
The dragon tilted his head oddly. "But don't you think they have a
right to know? It is their world, after all."
Harlequin breathed out heavily, his brow furrowed. "You want to just
tell them everything? Reveal all the myriad secrets of the universe? You want
me to..." He turned toward me, arm extended and fingers twitching madly. "You
want me to..."
"Spill my guts on global television?" I suggested.
"Yes!" He said snapping his fingers, and turning back toward the
dragon, who blinked. "Do you want me to spill my guts on television? Open dear
Pandora's box once again?"
"Well yes," said the dragon. "Do you realize how confused they must
all
be? Look at how their world has changed. Don't you think they have a right to
know what all this means?"
Harlequin nodded vigorously and moved toward the center of the room
gesturing wildly. "Oh course they do!" he said. "But why tell them? Let
them figure it out; that's where all the fun is! The clues are there!"
"The clues...?" the dragon, and I, were baffled.
"In the mystery of life, Dunkelzahn! The world is like a giant
tapestry. You start out standing very close to. There's a lot there to see,
and if you like, you can spend your whole life inspecting that one little
section. Some may find that section isn't enough. If they want, they can step
back and see more of the picture. Eventually, they may find themselves standing
far enough back that it's all there hanging before them.
"If you start them standing all the way back, they'll become confused.
They won't know where to look first. They'll miss seeing the whole picture."
He finished and folded his arms across his chest, a satisfied smirk on his
face. I eyed the dragon, who still looked perplexed.
"Don't you think there are some things they should be warned --" he
began.
"You mean like the invae?" Harlequin asked.
"As a beginning, yes," the dragon told him.
Harlequin dismissed the thought with a gesture. "They're of no
concern, and in fact they support my point precisely! The humans knew nothing
of their coming, but have been dealing with them quite nicely, nonetheless.
Spilling our guts --" he nodded to me " -- to the humans early would have
denied them the discovery! The joy is in the unfolding. Let them marvel at
their world, horrific as it may be sometimes. Let's not reveal the end of the
tale before the final page is turned, Dunkelzahn. Allow the story to tell
itself."
The dragon seemed to be staring at the now cold pizza, but I could
tell he was lost in thought. Finally, with a sigh, he stood and nodded.
"I'll take that as a no."
Harlequin laughed, glanced down at the ground and shook his head.
"Thank you for your hospitality," said Dunkelzahn, moving slowly
toward the door.
Harlequin looked up. "I hope I haven't fouled up your schedule of
guests."
The dragon raised an eyebrow. "No, not at all. I may ask Lady Bran
Dhighe of the Daoine Sidhe to speak in your place."
Harlequin's face stilled. "I wouldn't."
"Oh?"
"Dunkelzahn, we've at least always been cordial."
"Very true."
"But I should warn you, there are some of my kind, and your kind, who
think that you have told too much already."
"Oh?"
"Your comments about great dragons and dracoforms, for one."
The dragon nodded. "Yes, I received some...grief from that."
"Should you start to speak of...other things..."
Dunkelzahn nodded again. "Thank you for your warning Harlequin. There
are such wonderful stories that could be told."
Harlequin smiled. "And they will be: in time."
The dragon touched his fingers to his chest again, and once Harlequin
had repeated the gesture, began to walk out of the room. He stopped as he
passed me. "It has been a pleasure meeting you, my lady," he said. "You do
your
heritage proud." I smiled, couldn't think of what to say, and touched my
fingers to my chest. He smiled back and returned the gesture.
I closed the doors behind him as he left, and then turned, leaning back
against them. "It's too bad; I kind of like him." I said sadly.
"I do to," Harlequin said, looking back down at the papers "He's
the
most reasonable of all of them. It'll be a shame when we have to destroy him."

Copyright 1993 FASA, all the usual disclaimers apply.


Colonel Count von Hohenzollern und von Doom, DMSc, DSc, PhD.

Doom Technologies & Weapon Systems -- Dark Thought Publications
>>> Working on solutions best left in the dark.
<<<
[ Doctor Doom : jch8169@********.tamu.edu ]
^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^
"Wars may be fought with weapons, but they are won by men. It is the spirit of
the men who follow and of the man who leads that gains the victory."
-- General George S. Patton, Jr.

Further Reading

If you enjoyed reading about Wyrm Talk, Harlequin's Back, you may also be interested in:

Disclaimer

These messages were posted a long time ago on a mailing list far, far away. The copyright to their contents probably lies with the original authors of the individual messages, but since they were published in an electronic forum that anyone could subscribe to, and the logs were available to subscribers and most likely non-subscribers as well, it's felt that re-publishing them here is a kind of public service.