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A man stepped into view. He adjusted a strip of fabric around his neck and said, "Aha! You must be Princess Astra." His voice was smooth, like a fruit seller in the marketroads. He wore a well-tailored garment unfamilar to Astra. The jacket was black as night. The lapels were small, conservative. Between the v of the jacket were white ruffles. A red patch of cloth was strapped around his waist. The pants matched the rest of the outfit and the shoes were entirely too sparkly. Astra did not trust the man. "Don't mind me," he continued. "I just came from my cousin's wedding. Why she's marrying a plumber from Brooklyn, I don't know. But anyway's, I'm what you might call a minion of the Dragon, and he wanted me to pass along a message to you." From a pocket the man pulled a grey square. It was thick, and glittered, obviously metallic. His hand moved over it and a voice spoke. The Dragon! "Greetings, Astra." it spoke. It's deep timbers has a flat quality to them. "I propose peace talks. Bring ambassadors from your land and Lord Fred's land and let's see if we can work out our differences without bloodshed. Okay?" The motion happened again and the device was placed in a different pocket. "What's your answer, Princess?" said the man.
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6/3/1999 7:07:24 PM
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