The Headhunter

[DoS Archive]

From: leducblanc@aol.com (LeDucBlanc)
Date: 30 Dec 1998 14:38:18 EST

The big man who dropped his heavy duffel bag on the bed in what had once been Duc Percival Marchand de Clermont's room in the Red Dragon Inn smiled grimly to himself as he looked over his new abode. It would do. Barely. He couldn't understand how this area could have such a fantastic spaceport, totally beyond his own 20th century Earth understanding, and yet be so backward in its hotels. It was disgusting, really. Why had Marchand picked
this backward pocket dimension to hide in? What was its attraction? Escape from the game? There was no escape from the game. People could delay, run, cower, but no one could ever really hide. Especially not from me, the big man thought.
His name was Kevin Scott. He was considered, by some, the most feared Immortal on Earth. He had devoted his entire life, his passions, his emotions, his ability, to the game. First and foremost, he was a headhunter. He had taken over 70 heads, more than any other Immortal still living. He had been born Kevin McMahon in Drumore, Scotland at the end of the 14th century. He had taken his first head at the age of 20. He had never been bested. He
lived for the game.
He was tall, standing 6'3. A giant in his own day, for certain. His red hair was drawn back in a tight pony tail, a streak of flame down his back. His handsome, freckled face was pleasant, even affable. The blue eyes revealed as he removed his smoked glasses were cheerful, even flamboyant. They danced with life and humor. This deceptively warm glow, however, was merely a mask for the cold fire of walking death. The iron hard, lithely muscled
body, the easy and graceful gait, the coiled power in his shoulders, the keen intellect in his eyes, all followed the same path, served the same purpose. Lethal purpose.
He thought a bit about his current prey. Duc Percival Marchand de Clermont was *obviously* an Immortal. There was no other way to explain how he could be alive in both 1445 France and 1965 New Orleans. Yet, somehow, he had found a way to cloak himself from other Immortals. This was supposed to be impossible. Yet it had been done. Somehow he had found this pocket dimension, something else that he should not have been able to do. Yet he had done
it. Only an ancient spell found in a long abandoned library had enabled Scott to follow. Now that he had followed, his prey would not escape.
He would find his weaknesses and exploit them. He would attack the precise targets that would cause the most damage, to cripple his opponent. Perhaps this would be done directly to Percy if those were his weaknesses. Or perhaps it would mean striking at others. It would be successful, however. It always was.
Once he had chosen his prey he never failed. For one simple reason, he had always been victorious: Kevin Scott lived to kill.


((Author's note: Percy is *not* a Highlanderesque Immortal. The villain merely believes him to be. This is because he is unable to comprehend any other explanation for a man's presence in both 15th century France and 20th century New Orleans.))

[DoS Archive]

From: leducblanc@aol.com (LeDucBlanc)
Date: 31 Dec 1998 18:38:40 EST

Scott looked over the list with a satisfied smirk. Apparently this wouldn't be so hard. He had managed to assemble a list of the names of Marchand's intimate circle without much difficulty. Apparently the fellow had some prominence here. That would just make him a more vulnerable target. Prominence was always a mistake in the game. Attracting attention was foolish. A man who had been around as long as Marchand had been should have learned
that lesson by now. Perhaps he thought he was safe here. Scott laughed at that. There was no safe place. The game could never be escaped.
The first name on the list caught his eye and he looked at it again. Jola Savage, it read. A woman, apparently an attractive one. Not a lover though. Merely a very close friend. Away on her honeymoon. Not much prospect there until she returned. Still, she was apparently on of those closest to him. That made her important to Scott as well.
The second had more potential. Sarana, known as Sara. His fiance, lover, and confidant. If anything happened to her, he would be badly compromised. That was certain. Scott made a note. He would have to make contact with Sarana. She would be the most important person on the list.
G'nort Espelande G'neesmacher Dragoon-Talanador was the leader of the 'house' of duelists that Marchand belonged to. He was probably a friend, or at least a friendly acquaintance, of Marchand. He might be a challenge, but challenges were part of what made the game fun. This man deserved some serious consideration. Very serious indeed.
Zen Rising, Daelin Dragonsblade, and Shadowsiv were apparently all close to Marchand as well. The first two were members of his dueling team here. The latter was in his employ as a teacher at his school. He might or might not want to make contact with any of them. It was as yet unclear as to their level of usefulness.
There were a few other names on the list as well. However, it appeared that they were all connected to Marchand by or through one or more of the other six names on the list. The first three were the most important. That was growing more and more clear to Scott as he read over the names and relationships. Any move he made had to be in those directions first.
But where to make the opening move?



TBC