From:	Doctor Doom <JCH8169@*****.TAMU.EDU>
Subject:	Goetterdaemmerung! Part I
Date:	Sat, 14 May 1994 00:50:11 -0500

>>>>>[

+++++ Download: Dictated Document 1.0

Greetings . . . I am known as Darkwatch.

For those of you who do not recall, I have offered commentary on this node
intermittently over the past year or so. I am dictating this report so that
the denizens of the ShadowTalk list are kept abreast of recent events.

My occupation, aside from my personal vampiric research, is that of a private
inquiry agent and paranormal investigator. My services were contracted by the
Countess von Doom to assist in the exonerating of her husband from charges
brought forth by the Corporate Court. Our search took us over large parts of
North America and Europe and is far too involved from me to describe at
present. Details aside, after significant effort -- the case is some five
months old now -- conclusive evidence was finally secured, the lawyers
presented their evidence (of which I shall not bore you with the details), and
the charges were summarily dropped, which brings us to the present.

We were informed of when my employer would finally be released from his
confinement at the Aztechnology ziggurat. Earlier this morning, it was decided
that the Countess would be accompanied by Trilobite (a former UCAS Navy SEAL),
and myself when she went to collect him.

The sky was overcast -- hardly unusual for Seattle -- and it struck me as we
drove this was the first occasion I had seen the Countess in formal attire.
Truth be known, she is a remarkably attractive woman, I would say "striking"
without hesitation. Over the last few months she had impressed me greatly in
her resourcefulness, cunning, and determination . . . truly, the love that
bound them together was a special one indeed.

Today, however, very little trace of that shadowrunner was apparent. She was
now fully the wife of a nobleman, aristocratic -- No, /regal/ in her bearing.
She was arrayed in a beautiful, if understated, silk dress. Her long, dark
hair was unrestricted (as had been her custom in our data quest) and her raven
black tresses were allowed to flow like a waterfall down her back. Her eyes,
however, were the most remarkable . . . green with brown flecks, and a dark
blue rim. I know not if they're natural -- only beautiful, now filled with
a singular tension and excitement. It was quite evident, as it would be to
any fool who had eyes, that she had anticipated this day for many long months,
and was determined to make the most of it.

Trilobite (the self-styled "aqua-troll" . . . his name an obvious play on a
popular derisive term for trolls), or "Trilo", as his name was often
abbreviated, was silent for the duration of the ride. Excited, he remained
somewhat wary. Months of dodging Ganz's goons had worn somewhat on his
nerves; although I admit to feeling somewhat similar. He was in his Navy
uniform, in obvious deference to "the Colonel". I found it somewhat curious
that this man could generate such loyalty to a man he had known for such a
relatively short period of time; yet, there was no doubt in my mind of his
sincerity.

We arrived and were ushered in without incident, directed to a room, and
instructed to wait. A minute passed, or two . . . but to /her/ I imagine
the duration seemed significantly more lengthy. In the short time we spent
there, she had stood and began to pace, but even in so doing her sense of
poise endured.

Finally, the door opposite the one by which we entered opened, and there
stood Doom. Instantly, the spell was broken, all sense of formality tossed
to the winds; the Countess ran and threw her arms around him. Of the many
ways I have thought to describe Doom, before that moment "emotional" would
not have been among them. However, the warmth with which he returned her
embrace could not have been denied.

This was the first time I had espied my employer face to face. His dark blue
uniform was impeccably neat, nothing out of place. I noted it to be a
cuirassier uniform, complete with shiny black cavalry boots. Indeed, the Count
appeared to be someone who had stepped out of a history trideo rather than a
real man. A small constellation of medals decorated his chest, and in true
Junker style, he affected a monocle, something which would look ridiculous
on 95% of the population, but looked completely appropriate on him.

In truth, it was apparent that the months spent as "guest" of Aztechnology
had worn on him. His skin was rather pale, and he appeared somewhat thinner
than his photographs. However, then I looked into his eyes -- dark blue and
strangely hypnotic -- and then I knew the intellect contained within burned
as brightly as ever. His body may have endured deleterious effects, but his
mind remained unaffected.

Following the couple's lengthy embrace, we initiated some measure of small
talk, myself formally introducing myself to him for the first time, and I
was momentarily subjected to his direct scrutiny. I must admit that for an
instant I experienced the eerie sensation of being visually dressed down by
his gaze, as he apparently ascertained whether I met with his approval.
Thankfully, he took my hand and shook it, expressing his thanks for the work
I had done with his associates over these last months.

We were then escorted out the way we entered. The guards appeared amiable
enough, considering moments before this man had been their prisoner. Few
words were spoken in the walk out of the building, and I was confident that
much of the conversation was of the unspoken kind that only existed between
two in love. Although I do recall the Countess mentioning that in his
absence, Spirit and CRUSH became the proud parents of twins, one of them
named in his honor. Doom was quite pleased and remarked that they would
have to send a fitting gift to the proud couple.

We emerged from the ziggurat to face the open sky which had been denied Doom
for so long. Even with the blanket cloud-cover, it was yet quite bright, and
Doom squinted somewhat at the harshness of the glow. We then began our trek
through the park which lay in the rear of the Aztech lot towards the the rear
street where the vehicle would rendezvous with us. The trees and other
vegetation secluded the small path through it, affording us a bit of privacy
during our walk. About halfway through, at a particularly secluded spot, I
was about to inform Doom of some minor note which had sprang to mind at the
time:

"Your Lordship, I think it important to tell you . . ." I began.

He cut in, "Please, it is not my desire to stand upon ceremony -- UCAS is a
republic, after all. You may refer to me as. . . ." As his words trailed off,
he stopped rather abruptly.

I noted the Countess across from me give Doom the same questioning glace I did;
terrible hostility had welled up into Doom's expression as he stiffened
visibly. His gaze was not upon us, but rather along our path.

There stood a somewhat older man, garbed in a expertly tailored gray suit,
flanked to his rear by two rather imposing individuals (not to say they were
obvious, but the word "bodyguard" was all but written up and down their massive
torsos). His brown hair had strands of premature silver at the temples, but
his face and form betrayed only slight age. At his neck, upon his ascot,
glittered a gem -- a rather large diamond tie pin, I guessed; although due to
the distance, I could not have been certain. "GANZ." Doom breathed, spitting
out the word as though it were distasteful to utter.
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-- Hangtime <00:49:24/05-14-55>