Date:         Mon, 2 Mar 1992 14:09:08 EST
Reply-To:     IBY193@URIACC
Sender:       Advanced Dungeons and Dragons discussion list
              <ADND-L@UTARLVM1.BITNET>
From:         IBY193@URIACC.BITNET
Subject:      FLUFF: In honor of Mardi Gras
 
The following is just off the top of my head.   It isn't linked to my
other work.
 
                       *        *        *
 
                       The Lord of Misrule
 
Baron Varnius hated the holidays.  Everyone stopped working and had a
good time, and he couldn't even torture anyone without the other nobles 
looking down on him.  This year would be different, this year he'd 
gotten one of his tame priests to ban the usual revels, on the basis of 
the immoral behavior it caused.
 
This year HE would be the only one to have a good time, by Set, or
else-
 
BOOM! BOOM!  The knocking on the Grand Gate broke his reverie, and he
listened to the guard's challenge.
 
"Who goes there!"
 
"Make way for the Lord of Misrule!  Today the world is mine to
celebrate!"
 
"Go away fool, and take your drunken followers with you."
 
DRUNKEN FOLLOWERS!  Someone had dared to celebrate the feast, despite
the interdict.   He was about to call upon his guard to fire upon them 
when a great shout came from the gate.  The doors flew open, and a 
ragtag crew of revelers danced into the main hall.
 
"Guards! Seize them!"
 
Most of the revelers were recognizable as members of the surrounding
villages, save the leader, who was clad in motley from neck to toe, and 
masked.  The rest seemed intoxicated, almost enchanted.
 
Enchanted was the right word, for as the castle guard charged them, the
so-called lord of misrule raised his voice in song, and although the 
words were muffled by his mask, the tune soon had his best men capering 
around like wild beasts.
 
Soon only the Baron was unaffected.  "How dare you invade my castle!"
he spluttered.
 
The stranger turned to him for the first time.  "I am the Lord of
Misrule, Master of the Revels, and I go where I will.  Do not try to 
hinder me, for my song is stronger than any steel."
 
The Baron drew his sword.  "Even this one?"  He swung, but the stranger 
seemed to dodge the blow.  Either that, or the blade passed right 
through him, and that was impossible.  The stranger laughed, 
and ran toward the staircase.  

The Baron followed him, barely noticing the rest of the dancers running 
alongside.  He chased him down halls, through cellars, and around 
towers.  He failed to notice the falling back of the original revelers, 
until only he and his guards chased the fool.
 
"Good!" he thought, noticing for the first time, "My guards have come to
there senses!"
 
They may have, but his castle had gone mad.  Rooms looped back upon
themselves, and a staircase down led to the top of the highest tower.  
But the Baron ran on, as reality melted around him.  Finally, he saw the 
stranger stop, and look out over the countryside, now wrapped in the 
gloom of night.
 
"Our chase is over, fool.  Now you will die!"
 
The stranger turned to him, and the night seemed to wrap around him. 
"The hunt is not over, and I am not your prize. For it is midnight"  the  
bells tolled, "and the revels are now ended.  The master is no longer 
the servant, and the hunted becomes the Hunter."
 
As the bells tolled 12, the stranger's motley faded to black, and the
ribbons holding his mask turned to antlers.  Green eyes flashing, the 
Hunter pulled a great horn from within his robes.  He sounded it, and 
cried, "The Hunt rides! Take him my hounds!"
 
The Baron heard a clattering around him, as his guards, once men, took
the form of great hounds, and  turned to him, glowing jaws slathering. 
The Baron turned, and ran, and ran, and ran. . .
 
The next day, the villagers awoke in their beds, with only a dim memory
of the previous nights revelry.  The castle was found empty, and a new 
Baron was elected, who kept the old traditions and lived a long and 
prosperous reign.
 
But it is said, on moonless nights, that a great tumult can be heard in
the castle halls.  But opinion varies on whether it is the sound of
hunting, or the roar of a dance..
 
 
                            THE END
 
 
This is what happens when Euripides meets Chas. Dickens.
 
 
Mario            "Dance then, wherever you may be.
                  For I am the Lord of the Dance, said he!
                  And I'll lead you all, whereever you may be,
                  And I'll lead you all in the Dance, said he!"
                -Christmas Song, by a Mr. Carter [first name unknown]


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