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Re: Silent Prayer  Matthew Evets
 Apr 09, 2002 02:49 PDT 
The DarkArmor bobbed its helmet once, then plucked a stylus and
parchment from a small bag rolled up under the belt. Dipping from a
bottle of ink that someone had cleverly attached securely to that same
belt, the suit scribbled out a lengthy message. Returning it's writing
utensils to their rightful places and snapping the parchment once to
dry it completely, the armor dropped the note on the altar and walked
out the door.
     Once clear of the building the DarkArmor rose into the air as high
and as fast as it could. All this teleporting had bamboozled the
suit's sense of direction and it felt the urgent need to return to the
inn as swiftly as possible. As it scanned the countryside for a
landmark, the image of Eagleman laying in the cart flashed through it's
consciousness, and a sickening squelch of dread filled the suit. The
largwe human was as close to a true friend or relative that the suit
had. True, they had had a servant/master relationship before, but up
until a short while ago that had been all the suit had been capable of!
Fearing the worst, the armor rocketed into the darkening sky, visions
of inn patrons dying and fleshy brothers laying dead filling it's helm.

" You're like a coat hanger with meat hanging off it!"
---Triple H, to Conan O'Brien

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