Wednesday, September 19, 2012

A Little Business in Hobbington

The Climb Up Hobbington Long Stairs

... And so it was that the adventurers of the “AAA Group” stood at the base of the Long Stairs crawling knife edged along the treacherous cliffs of Mount Zatock to ancient (and largely unexplored) fortress of Hobbington.

“So you were going to pretend to be dead,” Arik was saying, wagging his beard at Hermel. “Do you want me to bop you on the head to help with the act?”

“No, I don’t think that would be such a great idea,” said Hermel as he gazed up the long stairs.

“Why would you want to pretend to be dead?’ asked Praymar in his squeaky voice. “It’s stupid.”

“I thought so, too,” put in Arik, “but, what the heck… I’m glad to help where I can,” he added looking at Hermel with a broad toothy grin. Hermel gave them both a scowl and didn’t reply. He was in fact at that moment working out just how to get into the town without being noticed by the deadly Five Animals Society. It seemed they had something against him, and he thought it best to avoid contact with them if at all possible. He took out his broad brimmed straw hat that Hagen, the owner of the Rat’s Den had sent to him as part of a disguise he used to escape the town originally. He then donned the shirt and pants, and in all, he not only looked quite presentable, but he felt it was reasonable to assume that if he kept his head down the Five Animals would not recognize him. And so, that arranged, they all headed up the long flight of stairs.

“Are you excited to be going home?” asked Bantum of his chickens cheerfully. They all clucked the affirmative.

Now these stairs wound their way up the side of Zatock Mountain, which itself is a rather tall and narrow mountain with a level top. Rumor had it that there was a deep lake with an island in it on the top of Zatock, but none of the AAA’s had ever been up there, so they didn’t know for sure. Another rumor, one that Star happen to know, was that there was actually an old fortress of some sort on the shore of the lake, but as he’d never been to the top either, it was officially, in his mind, just another rumor among many regarding the various myriad mysteries of that old mountain town.

The stairs wind up along the edges of steep ridges with perilous drop offs. There were numerous gateways along the stairs that form guard stations from the days of old, though in these times very few of them were occupied. At some places the stairs doubled back on themselves and went under narrow archways. The entire flight of stairs wound their way up a wedge of the mountain between two long narrow waterfalls, which vanished into deep ravines at the base of the mountain. Star, possibly for the first time, noticed what an amazingly well fortified position Hobbington was actually in. It would take a truly incredible military effort to overcome it. Even as high up on the mountain as it was, Hobbington was still defended by a massive wall along the cliff face, also topped by multiple towers for additional defense. Indeed, he thought, that sinister fellow Ibis would very likely have known all about it, and could have probably explained quite a few details of the fortification that Star would not himself have guessed.

The Poor Beggars

When they came to the sixth of the many landings along the way, they encountered a small band of poor children begging for spare change. They looked very hungry and thin. Bantum gave them two iron pieces from his leather pouch, which left it much lighter than it had been. Hermel also gave them two coins as well, and ushered everyone past so they could continue the climb.

“Is that you Hermel?” asked one of the children. Hermel was dismayed. It sounded a lot like little Jeremy, the kid who had lead them on the Hagglesmith rescue. In fact, he noticed that the other children happen to actually be the Hagglesmiths. He turned his head beneath his hat and continued to try to usher everyone up the stairs, not wanting to engage in another distraction from his purpose. Nor, in fact, did he wish anyone to recognize him. In order to distract them, and provide enough money to feed the children for a week, he dropped a handful of thirteen more iron coins on into the snow as though it was an accident.

“Hi children, how old are you?” asked Praymar, stopping to look at the children. Hermel stopped. He motioned for Praymar to keep moving. Instead the odd squeaky little albino tried engaging the children in conversation as they scrambled weakly for the coins.

“Sir, you dropped some money,” said Janet Hagglesmith, holding up one of the coins toward Hermel. She was too weak to grab any of the other coins, but she was not the kind of girl to take advantage of someone else’s accidental misfortune.

“No, I don’t think those are mine,” said Hermel over his shoulder. “You can keep them.”

“But…” the girl tried to continue.

“You’re probably delirious from hunger,” said Hermel trying his best to escape the complications he saw heading his way. Yet realizing how weak the Hagglesmiths actually were, Hermel had a change of heart after all. He asked Bantum if he could help carry the children up the Long Stairs. Bantum, a giant of a lad, had no problem picking up the children and hoisting one on each shoulder, and one in each arm, while Jeremy took a spot around Bantum’s neck. The chickens were a bit ruffled by the extra passengers, but Dr. Chickenhiemer, a softy at heart, calmed them down from atop Bantum’s head where he had taken to perching himself. Jeremy was certainly surprised to find a rooster, Dr. Chickenhiemer, as his travel companion. Dr. Chickenhiemer clucked a greeting, and pontificated about something related to the quantum flux perimeter centered on a particular artifact, but as Jeremy was not much more than an imbecile, and Dr. Chickenhiemer spoke only chickenese, it was lost on the lad entirely.

“But I saw them fall out of your pocket”, Janet said. The other Hagglesmiths were staring at her incredulously, and stuffing their hands deeper into their pockets where their coins had been secreted. “Don’t pay any mind to her, Sir, she’s a bit daft, really... Don’t worry Janet, we’ll hold the coins for you,” said Brox, and took the coin she had been holding up and put it in his pocket.

“And, thank you kindly, sir, to be sure,” said Jorus, affirmatively and smiled weakly. “We’re much obliged for the help. Likely we'd have staved and frozen on that spot if you hadn't come along to save us.”

And so up the Long Stairs they went.

After they had climbed to the next landing Hermel stopped.

“Bantum, do you have any money?”

“I do,” replied Bantum amiably as he reached for his pouch. But it turned out his pouch was missing.

“Ok, that’s what I thought,” said Hermel as he turned his eyes on every member of the Hagglesmiths. They landed finally on Jeremy, who squirmed slightly under his gaze.

“I didn’t mention it, but there is a fee for carrying you up to the town,” said Hermel to Jeremy.

“A what?” said Jeremy, shocked by this idea.

“Or, I could just leave you all down here to fend for yourselves,” he answered. “Or you can return Bantum’s pouch, which would be the right thing to do.”

“The Elkron frown upon theft, you know,” put in Star, gaining for his trouble only the rolling eyes of the Hagglesmiths.

After a moment’s reflection, however, Jeremy relented and said “Aw shoot, I was just kidding around. Here’s your pouch ya big lug,” he said jovially as he could, handing Bantum his little leather pouch. There was a good deal of quiet mirth among the members of the AAA Group at that, and so they continued up the Long Stairs.

Hermel checked his pockets, but everything was there. He muttered to himself as he suddenly imagined that by the time they got the top of the stairs Bantum would be walking stark naked with five little munchkins on his mighty shoulders, trussed up in firs with feathered caps and gold chains. It made him smirk grimly, but still he resisted the temptation to take a look, trying as he was to maintain at least a tiny bit of faith in humanity.

At the 7th landing they noticed a crowd had gathered along the edge of the wall at the rampart of the town high above them. There were four men who were suddenly flung over the side of the wall and hung by their necks, wriggling horribly, until they were dead. The people of the town jeered and threw rotten vegetables and small rocks at them. This all took place too far away for the members of the party to discern any details of who the men were, and besides there heads were covered with black hoods. It was not uncommon in Hobbington for criminals to be treated thus, if their crimes were sufficiently dreadful. Such hangings occurred periodically, and usually to the joy of the lowborn crowds, who liked nothing better than a good hanging. They watched for a few minutes, and then continued solemnly up the winding stone stairway, which ascended the ridges, doubled back on sharp bends, twisting this way and that as it snaked up to the town. The snow was thicker as they rose above the valley, and so the going got slower.

At the 12th landing they came to a narrow two storied tower that the stairs went beneath through an archway. There were four guards there who demanded the city toll, which was one iron piece each. They'd finally made it to the top. And there was the Hobbington Gate in all it's stony glory. They paid the toll and got ready to continue under the Great Archway.

“Why should we pay a toll?” demanded Praymar with a squeak. “It’s stupid!”

The guard, who had not noticed the odd little albino before, looked down at him for the first time. Praymar flicked his little red forked tongue. The guard bulged, and then averted his eyes and pretended he hadn’t noticed the boy at all. Praymar called up to him, “I’m over here!” but it was no good. The guard seemed to never have noticed him, and it seemed likely he never would. It was just as well. Everyone was tired and hungry and no one wanted to get into a fight with the town guards. That usually didn't end well.

“Hobbington at last!” clucked all of the chickens on Bantum’s bandoleer.

Wooden Dogs

Past the guards and through the gate they entered the main plaza, which, remarkably or not, looked much as it had when the left, except it was shrouded in snow. The many stalls and shops that lined the plaza all looked the same. Except for one. There were a number of customers going into and out of the store, some carrying packages with big smiles on their faces.

“Wooden Dog Emporium” read the sign. It was a new shop. In the window were half a dozen finely carved dogs of different sort. The quality of the craftsmanship was as remarkable as it was unmistakable.

“I don’t believe it,” said Hermel as he made his way with the others to the shop. There they found a big fat merchant with greasy hair and sweaty palms, eager to shake hands and sell them carved dogs.

“Welcome friends! We have the finest carved dogs in Hobbington! Come in, come in!”

Praymar stood outside absorbing the wonder of a large city. The stone buildings and tall fortifications astonished him. This was his first time ever seeing such a marvel as a real town. Those who did happen to catch him looking wide eyed about averted their eyes and kept walking, as usual.

Hermel was looking around at the shelves. There were quite a number of wooden dog statues. He imagined poor Wuldcarva sitting in a basement somewhere chained to a bench working away, hardly fed or bathed.

“Why you know, sir, this looks quite a bit like Wuldcarva’s work,” Hermel was saying to the merchant amiably enough.

“Wuldcarva? Wuldcarva? Ha ha … I don’t remember hearing about any Wuldcaravas!” said the merchant, who hastily made his way to another customer on the other side of the shop. Hermel noticed the merchant glanced over his shoulder at him several times with a nervous twitch in his eye.

“Oh my goodness, no…” Hermel thought to himself. “It couldn’t be!”

In any case, they had business to get to in Hobbington and so the AAA Group divvied up responsibilities and headed forth into the town. They agreed that they would meet back at the Dog Emporium in four hours. Arik would take Praymar to the Adventure’s Guild and have him enrolled there, if they would take him, while Bantum and Star would take the Hagglemsiths and Jeremy to the Pagoda of Twelve Harmonies, where he hoped the monks of Eldrik would look after them. Hermel went off to find Lady Gray’s Tea Shop hoping to find the kind of drug he needed for his plan to rescue his sister and the others at Yellow Clay Village.

On the way to the Guild, Praymar smelled savory Rat Sticks.

“Rat Sticks here,” barked the street vendor. “Get your Rat Sticks here!”

“I’d like a Rat Stick please,” said Praymar buoyantly to the vendor. The old grizzly looking Rat Stick vendor saw Praymar out of the corner of his eye and quickly pretended to be absorbed in contemplating the awning of his little stall.

“I’m over here,” squeaked Praymar effusively. “I’d like a Rat Stick, sir,” he added while rapping the counter with his beefy knuckles.

“What? Oh, oh, alright,” said the vendor, handing Praymar a Rat Stick with one jaundiced eye. “That’ll be five iron, then,” he said, trying not to look directly at the little albino boy.

“Five iron?!” answered Praymar defiantly. “Your sign says 1 iron!”

“What? Oh, damnit, he can read,” muttered the vendor under his breath. “ok ok, fine. One iron, that’s right.”

Praymar paid the man, and took a big sloppy bite out of the succulent Rat Stick. “Nothing tastes so good as a rat on a stick when you’re hungry,” thought Praymar with satisfaction and he slurped and licked the Rat Stick with his shiny red forked tongue.

“Yeah yeah, move along… you’re scaring away customers,” said the vendor while Praymar picked a bone from between his teeth.

“What are you trying to say?” squeaked Praymar.

“Um, well, uh, hey don’t forget we’ve got to get you to the Guild as soon as possible,” Arik interrupted. Praymar turned on Arik and complained that the grizzly old vendor was trying to insult him. They debated over whether or not that was really quite so as the vendor quietly snuck away, wheeling his cart down the street to a more promising corner. And so with that Praymar and Arik continued on to the Guild Hall, winding their way down narrow alleyways, up flights of worn down stairs, over and under old stone bridges, and along the frosty streets until they came at last to the Guild Hall somewhere in the middle of the Old Quarter. It was a red brick building with white shutters and an enormous oak door at the top of a small flight of stone steps. Icicles dangled from the roof, sparkling in the intermittent sunlight.

Praymar Joins the Guild

Arik knocked at the door three times, and it opened. There stood the Seneschal.

“Arik, you’ve returned,” he said.

“I have indeed. I’d like to see Guildmaster Rothmon if he’s available. I have a report, and a recruit, …of sorts. This,” he said pointing to Praymar as one might point to the leg of a diseased lamb, “is Praymar. He’s from the Provinces… I think.”

“Hello,” squeaked Praymar holding out his bone white hand.

“Well hello Praymar. Welcome,” he said as he shook Praymar’s hand. Surprised that he had actually been acknowledged instead of ignored or insulted (perhaps for the first time in his little life) Praymar thoughtlessly Drained the man using his Mystic Power.

“That’s not good manners!” said Arik and slapped Praymar on the back of the head. Despite that, he felt quite a bit warmer and stronger after that. The Seneschal, however, staggered backwards, not quite realizing what exactly had happened. All he knew was that touching the young albino made him suddenly feel weak and dizzy. He staggered up stairs to find Guildmaster Rothmon.

After a few minutes the old and experienced stalwart Rothmon came down the stairs stroking his white beard and greeted the Adventurers. To Praymar he extended a bark-skin gloved hand and an especially warm greeting. Praymar, a bit embarrassed at his indiscretion with the Seneschal, pretended not to notice, and shook Rothmon’s hand enthusiastically.

“Thank you, Sir! It’s good to be here,” he said.

And so they enrolled Praymar into the Hobbington Adventurer’s Guild. He scored very high on each of the four tests that Rothmon discretely gave him, and enrolled him into the Ranger school. That’s a broad and difficult Class, requiring much training, but Rothmon felt the oddly colored lad would be up to it. While the Seneschal gingerly gave Praymar a basic orientation in regards to the Guild rules, school, customs and traditions, Rothmon sat with Arik in the Library. He was provided with a detailed report on the adventure thus far.

“Hermel sends a question, by the way,” said Arik. “He said you’d know who he means. He asks, ‘Have you heard anything of those damn Hobbits’?”

“Ah, well, unfortunately, you will have to tell Hermel the answer is ‘No’. There has been no word,” said Rothmon shaking his head regretfully.

As this conversation was going on, Praymar had returned from his tour of the Hall. He sat down at a table and leafed through an open book there. It was a compendium of hieroglyphs and ancient art. “This is amazing,” he said.

“Indeed,” said Rothmon nodding in agreement. “The purpose of the Guild, in fact, is to collect this kind of information from all over the world, and record it for future posterity, and the use of the Greater Good.”

Arik, remembering that he had something he thought the Guildmaster might be interested in purchasing, dug through his things and produced the pelt he had skinned from the bear he had killed. Several flies flew off of the stiff, rancid, blood-encrusted thing. It was horrid.

“I’m pretty sure I can not imagine a use for this particular artifact… fascinating as it may be,” said Rothmon politely with two raised eyebrows, and the matter was dropped. Arik was deeply disappointed as he put the pelt away.

Praymar, seeing one of the flies whizzing past his face could not resist flicking out his little red forked tongue, both tiny prongs piercing the fly in each eye. “Thwip!” the fly vanished into Praymar’s mouth. Arik scratched his beard, thinking little of it, though Rothmon sat with his eyes wide and eyebrows raised even higher than before. Stranger things he’d seen in his many years, but perhaps nothing quite so unexpectedly disgusting as that.

“There was the matter of a strange round stone object, but I can’t say much about that,” Arik was saying. “Ibis, a rather unusual man we met at the Prancing Unicorn Inn, made an etching of it, but I can’t quite remember very well what it looked like. It appeared to be a piece of a larger artifact that had broken off. Everyone, except myself, of course, seemed frightened by the thing, but I couldn’t possibly tell you why.”

“We’re interested in any details, even if it may seem trivial to you,” said Rothmon.

“Well, I also went on a strange adventure from the mine with Bantum and a Dwarven compatriot of mine whom I met there as well. After an amazing journey through the earth, we came to an ancient Dwarven Pub, and saw a rather entertaining play there. Something about a magical chicken…” he said and then paused, a little light going on in the back of his head. He then dropped the matter abruptly, and declined entirely to say so much as a single word about Dr. Chickenhiemer. After all, Arik never believed in a talking chicken. It’s absurd. Chickens do not talk!

Hermel Has Some Tea

Meanwhile, across town, Hermel had made his way to Lady Gray’s Tea Shop. He was looking for an herb. He happened to know of one that might be suitable for his plans. It was a rare extract of the Rhododendron plant called “Misty Cloud Venom”. It not only made one fall asleep, but also was known to cause intensely vivid nightmares. As it happened, Lady Gray, who recognized him from his earlier visit, asked him to sit down while she went to look for the list of odd items and herbs he’d given her. He wanted to obscure the fact that he was looking for the Misty Cloud Venom, though to her experienced eye that one item stood out like a sore thumb on the list. It mattered not, however. Lady Gray was a confidant of many, and so was adept at keeping secrets. She had a very good reputation for it.

“How much for one portion of the Rhododentron extract?” he asked.

“That will be 10 iron per dose, young man,” she said.

Hermel intended to make 100 doses of knockout venom for the archers he intended to hire. That would be a total of 1000 iron. Hermel ran some numbers in his head. He ran them again. He was not very good with numbers. He ran them again. It was kind of painful to watch.

“Would you care for a cup of tea and a biscuit?” asked Lady Gray, sympathetically. “Why don’t you take a seat by the fire and relax,” she added.

“Well, I have had a hard couple of days,” he replied gratefully. He was considering whether or not he should purchase the Misty Cloud Venom, or if it he should ask about the less expensive, and less effective, alternative he had in mind. It was not as rare, and did cause narcolepsy, but it acted slower, and did not last as long. But 100 doses would only cost 800 iron. He pondered as he sipped his tea and nibbled on his biscuit.

Star Brings the Children Around

On the other side of Hobbington Star was making his way to the Twelve Harmonies Pagoda with Bantum and the Hagglesmith Horde. Arriving at the massive seven level circular tower, he knocked on the enormous wooden door. A smaller door set in the larger one opened. There was a monk of the order of Eldrik in his yellow robe. He bowed with one palm raised.

“Eldrik bless you,” he said.

“And Eldrik bless you as well,” said Star. “I’ve come to make arrangements, if possible, for these children, and to speak with the abbot about an important matter.”

The little group was brought into the pagoda. The senior monk came out and listened to Star’s explanation regarding the children and recommended that they be taken to Saint Elaine’s Orphanage. This was on the far side of Hobbington. It was a long way, but eventually they arrived. The Orphanage is a low gray building with small stained glass windows, situated on the hill below the walls of Hobbington Heights. There is a little river that runs by it, and a small drawbridge leads into the front gate. There they found some miserable children, depressed, anemic and thin, and their even more miserable Head Mistress who stood stern and hard against the cold wind at the door, holding a book in one hand, and a thick wooden ruler in the other. There was a conversation. But as it turned out, only Jeremy was an orphan, so she would not accept the other children.

“But these children were starving to death in the snow…” Star was saying, “What does it matter if their parents are dead or not?”

“We only have enough to barely take care of the orphans. That is our mission.”

“Your mission is not to help children?” asked Star incredulously.

“Other children have parents who can help them. But orphans have no one at all. It is our mission to help them,” she said sternly. “There are other charitable institutions,” she added. “There’s a soup kitchen near the Old Quarter on Dunn Street.”

The Head Mistress offered to take in young Jeremy in as he was in fact an orphan, but looking at the gray-faced children with their sad eyes and sallow cheeks, he decided he would rather take his chances with the Hagglesmiths after all.

“I thought that was going to be easier,” comment Star and took them back across Hobbington toward the Guild Hall. They nodded agreement. “Well, I’m sure everyone is pretty hungry by now,” continued Star thinking out loud. They nodded agreement as they shuffled down the cobblestone street. Snowdrifts were piled high everywhere.

“Hmmm… the Bar and Grill at the Guild Hall was really rather expensive,” Star thought to himself. So when they passed a Rat Stick vendor he treated to each child two Rat Sticks. The Rat Sticks did not last long amid the slathering, lip-smacking, and slobbering. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried a fresh grilled Rat Stick with ‘brown sauce’, but … well… maybe you shouldn’t. However, for the hungry children Hobbington it was as succulent meal as they’d had in days, and it went down well.

The Seneschal watched with a puzzled expression as Star ushered Bantum and the ragtag band of children into the foyer.

"This is The Adventurers Guild, not an orphanage," the Seneschal was thinking to himself as he went upstairs to tell Rothmon that additional guests had arrived. Star found a spot by the fire where the children could rest and warm themselves. Rothmon came down with two gloves on and nodded his half-welcome and shook hands with the children, gave Bantum a pat on the shoulder, and then led Star into the Library. He was very eager to learn more about what had happened on the adventure from Star’s point of view, having learned all he could from Arik already. He did not realize just how significant the difference between the two interviews would turn out to be.

The Terrible Artifact

With greetings and introductions aside, Star sat down across from Rothmon at the large oak desk and proceeded to dig through his satchel until he found what he was looking for. It was the leather cloth containing the mysterious artifact he had received from Lanna at the Grey Serpent Cave. He noticed vaguely for the first time by the light of Rothman's desk lamp that it was covered in a barely discernible series of scripts, but he was eager to show Rothmon the item within, and so he pulled the cloth aside to reveal the smooth, though broken, disk-shaped stone with the odd black lightning-wheel design on it. He noticed that it still glowed eerily with that strange yellowish darkness, almost as though it were sucking the light from the room.

“And so, as I mentioned, one of the miners from the Prancing Unicorn salt mine had smuggled this out, and given it to his wife, who, after some strange events, gave it to me. Do you know what it might be?” asked Star, looking up finally from the engrossing object. It had begun to form shadows on the table that seemed to turn as black as the night sky. It was very strange.

Rothmon did not answer, and Star was surprised to see when he looked up that the old gentleman, usually so solemn, had gotten out of his chair and was backing away from the table slowly with one arm raised before his face and his head craned to the side. Both eyes were bulging. Yes, this alarmed Star quite a bit, you could say.

“I, uh… What iiiiis this thing?” asked Star, now feeling the same rising sense of dread he'd felt at other times when the stone was exposed. Rothmon continued to back away until he hit the bookshelf and could go no further.

“I am wondering… what should … I do with it?” asked Star, his voice now beginning to tremble as a cold sweat suddenly took hold of his spine.

“… Put … it … away …” whispered Rothmon.

Star hesitated and stared at Rothmon. He was turning his head away from the object, and his eyes were beginning to turn up into his head. This was not usually a good sign, he thought as he wrapped the stone back up in its leather cloth. Once wrapped the sensation of dread seemed to vanish as if someone had snuffed out a candle. Star heaved a sigh of relief.

“I think I will return to the Twelve Harmonies, then, and ask them about it,” said Star as he shouldered his pack and walked to the door, shaken up by Rothmon's incredible reaction. “You know, it’s strange,” he said to himself, “these people are supposed to help me. Why is no one able to … help … me?” and then closed the door behind him, with a final glance. Rothmon was lowering himself to the wooden bench below the window, trembling.

“Oh yes,” said Star tapping his forehead. “I wanted to show Rothmon that other stone as well, didn’t I?” and with that he opened the door and went back into the library. He found the elder sitting on the bench, staring out the frost encased window.

“I wanted to show you a different stone that another miner gave me. He said that I should deliver it to ‘...Ahaaaaa’, and then he died from his wounds,” he said while pulling out the other stone and holding it up. Rothmon barely seemed to notice.

“Do you know what this is?” asked Star. “It seems as though it was important, too, somehow.” Rothmon nodded negatively, and so Star, having decided that the old man really could use some rest, backed out of the room, saying he would return later if he could.

“I shall head over to the Twelve Harmonies Pagoda and speak to Eldrik about this then,” he said as he closed the door, bowing. “And He’s not going to be able to help me either, I suppose,” he added angrily to himself. This kind of thinking was very unlike Star.

On the way out he ran into Arik who had come up from the Bar and Grill. He was looking mighty pleased with himself, and perhaps a bit drunk. He passed off the children and Bantum to the Dwarve, telling him how the Saint Elaine Orphanage would not take them in, and said that he was heading over the Twelve Harmonies Pagoda to try to find some answers about the strange old stones. Arik wanted to know why, and was puzzled as to why he had mentioned more than one strange old stone, but Star didn’t wish to talk about it any more and turned gruffly to leave.

“I’ll be back. Or maybe I won’t. Or maybe the world is going to end, I’m not sure... If you see any demon's kill them with your axe, or something!” he barked as he left the Guild Hall slamming the door behind him. He felt the heaviness of the strange old stone in the leather cloth weighing down his satchel as he trundled away through the snow. The wind moaned amid the wooden slats of the buildings as the sun vanished behind the fast moving clouds. A light snow began to fall.

Arik stood in the foyer scratching his head. Bantum and the children went back to looking at the fire. It was very strange behavior indeed, thought Arik. Star had never behaved anything like that before.

Star Returns to the Twelve Harmoies

Star looked down at his feet as he crossed over Dunn’s Bridge on his way out of the Old Quarter. There was a deep fog that had settled on the Bridge, making it difficult to see further than a few yards ahead. He kept his eyes to the ground and so did not notice the window of the northeast Bridge Tower begin to glow with a greenish light as he passed by below. He would probably not have wished to have seen it, actually. In any event he focused on his feet and made his way to the other side, took to the road again, and made his way toward the archway that lead out of the Old Quarter into ‘Town Proper’, as the people called it. He came to the fountain in the center of the main square, turned left, went up the wide steps, through the archway, along a few cobblestone streets and came eventually to the Twelve Harmonies Pagoda.

The monk greeted him again, and led him inside. As soon as he entered, Star felt a deep sense of peace and calm. The temple was so quiet, and the gongs on each floor rang out solemnly with their timeless serenity. He shook the snow off, and warmed his feet and hands by the fire. He touched his satchel but it did not feel as though the terrible stone was weighing him down any longer.

“I would like to see the Abbot,” said Star. The monk nodded and gestured for one of the monks there to take Star upstairs to where the Abbot was. And so he followed as they climbed the spiral stair that wound around the rim of the pagoda from floor to floor, passing through wooden doors and arches, until finally they arrived at the seventh floor where he was led by another monk into the presence of the Abbot.

The Abbot was sitting at a low round wooden table with one hand raised before him in meditation. He opened his eyes and motioned for Star to come into the small circular study. It was piled high with books and scrolls. The Abbot himself was a round pudgy man, bald, but with a long wispy gray beard and long gray eyebrows that fell down past his cheeks. He’d always struck Star as a kind of lazy person, not given to waking early and working hard like his own teacher had been. But he was kindly, and warm hearted so Star liked him just the same.

“Hello, Abbot, sir,” said Star quietly. “I’ve been absent from the temple for some time on a mission. I’ve encountered an artifact on my travels. I’m not sure what it is. I’m not sure why but I fear it.”

The Abbot motioned for him to go on, and so Star took the leather cloth out and was going to put it on the table. However, the Abbot stopped him with a gesture of his upheld hand. He then took a yellow cloth from somewhere with red letters along the sides and forming a circle and cross at the center. The Abbot stood up and lit four candles, three sticks of incense, began to chant, and walk in a circle around the room seven times waving the incense at each of the four tiny windows. He sat down and put the incense in a small pot of sand, and then with a gesture indicated that Star should put the artifact on the yellow cloth at the center of the table. He did so and opened the cloth to reveal the stone. It glowed with the same strange yellowish shadow, though more fiercely than he’d seen it do before. And to his surprise green tendrils of vapor began to slide off its sides and slither onto the yellow and red cloth.

“It’s never done that before!” exclaimed Star, fascinated.

“Tell me more about it,” said the Abbot.

“There was a salt mine in the province, recently discovered, but contained very ancient lion statues. A miner smuggled this out of the mine,” explained Star.

“Do you know where the other missing piece is?” asked the Abbot.

“If I had to guess, I would say it is in the mine,” said Star.

“It is fortunate it is not at full power. You will need to be ritually purified. We will hold the artifact here until we can locate the missing piece, and try to contain its malevolent power,” said the Abbot gravely.

“Does the artifact have a name?” asked Star.

“It is called The Black Sun Stone,” said the Abbot in a tone of voice that made Star shudder.

“It doesn’t sound good,” said Star.

“It isn’t. It is very ancient, and very dangerous,” said the old Abbot.

“When I was walking here with it, I felt as though I wouldn’t make it,” said Star, half to himself.

“Your great strength and faith has carried you through,” said the Abbot.

“Thank Eldrik for that,” replied Star.

“Your Quest,” said the Abbot slowly, “is to find the missing piece, and bring it here. Before you embark on the Quest you will need to return to Star Cliff and conduct your purification at the shrine there,” said the Abbot handing Star the leather cloth the stone had been wrapped in. He then folded the yellow cloth with red lettering over the stone so it was concealed from view. The sense of impending horror vanished with it.

Star was both elated and frightened by the prospect of having to complete such a quest. The old Abbot brought out a small golden pin and handed it to Star. It was in the shape of a flying swallow.

“Wear this on your lapel,” he said. “It will help you at the right time.”

“Thank you, Abbot,” replied Star of Justice with a bow. The Abbot nodded and held up one hand in blessing to him.

“There is one other matter I wish to discuss with you before I go, sir. I met a number of children who were starving on the stairs outside Hobbington on our return. I tried to leave them with Saint Elaine’s Orphanage but they were refused entry as they are not in fact orphans. I am unsure how to help them,” said Star sincerely.

“On the third floor of the Pagoda you will fin in the Northern Lion Chamber a wooden dragon casket. Tell the guardian there that I said you may take from it 20 pieces of silver to bring to the parents of the children. Tell them that the Abbot of Twelve Harmonies contributes this money to them and that they should spend it wisely on the feeding and care of their children.”

From the air the Abbot seemed to pull forth a long narrow piece of yellow paper with red writing and laid it on top of the yellow cloth that covered the stone. The paper immediately clung to the cloth as if it had been sucked down onto it by a gust of air, one half of the paper on the stone, and the other half clinging to the wooden table. He did this seven times so that the stone was completely wrapped and held down by the paper bonds. Star had the impression that even if the tower collapsed in an earthquake, the stone would be bound to the table unmoved.

“Thank you, Abbot,” said Star with deep emotion.

“Star of Justice… when you return to Star Cliff where you were born and raised and meet with your old teacher there, please bring him this gift from me,” said the Abbot holding a small wooden box whose upper half could be pulled off to reveal the compartment within. “It contains a tea that I happen to know he is fond of. He will be pleased to receive it.”

“Thank you again, Abbot. I will be leaving now,” said Star of Justice as he gave a formal bow, before leaving the ancient study.

The Happy Reunions

Back in the Old Quarter, Hermel had finished up his biscuit and tea at Lady Gray’s Tea House and had stopped at a shop where bows were made. He examined them carefully and priced each one. He inquired with the shop keeper if there were by chance archers that might be hired in the area. He found that there were, and he found the cost would not be prohibitive if the rest of his plan regarding the sale of the Jade Dragon stone worked in his favor. He went to the Wooden Dog Emporium to meet the others.

Star meanwhile had returned to the Guild Hall, picked up the children and took them home to the Hagglemsith’s tenement in a part of town you would not want to find yourself at night. Old man Hagglesmith came to the door of the ramshackle apartment and seeing his children, thin, cold and filthy, grunted in surprise. He looked at Star.

“What’s this then?” said the old man gruffly choking down his emotion as his fat greasy wife clambering up behind him. “Oh my babies!” she cried and grabbing them pulled them inside. Star took out the bag of silver and gave it to the man with the instructions from the Abbot. He was in a bit of a rush to meet the others back at the Wooden Dog Emporium, so he gave a curt bow, and left Mr. Hagglesmith standing in the door, as he wiped a tear from his weathered eye.

“Thank you sir! Thank you,” called the man after Star as he vanished into the snow-flecked mist. Seeing Jeremy still standing on the stoop, the man, puzzled, asked if he was a friend of the children. Jeremy nodded affirmatively, and the old man quickly took him by the hand and brought him inside to the cheerful glad-handing and joyful shouting of the other children. The house smelled wonderfully of stew and carrots and bread, and everyone shared a small but satisfying meal around the kitchen hearth fire. As he walked away through the fog, hearing the joviality behind him, Star suddenly felt that all seemed to be working out as it should after all, and was glad as he made is way quickly to the Dog carver’s shop.

Everyone converged on the shop at the same time. Hermel went straight to the merchant.

“We want to see the artist!” said Hermel in a rough tone. The merchant stammered, and said he didn’t know what he meant. So Hermel had Bantum stand over him and make sure he didn’t go anywhere while he looked around the shop calling out “Wuldcarva! Wuldcarva!” He found a red door in the back but it was locked. Hermel went back to the merchant and demanded the key. Bantum smiled at him. He gave Hermel the key. And so Hermel, Arik, Bantum and Star of Justice went down a flight of stairs and came to a room lit with a lantern in which there were many blocks of wood, a floor covered with shavings, and shelves piled high with wooden doggies of every conceivable kind. And there sat Konar Wuldcarva, chisel and hammer in hand. He was working hard on a Labrador made from black wood, sweat pouring down his forehead.

“Konar, is that you?!” asked Hermel straining his eyes in the dim light.

“Yes,” he said looking up. Suddenly, as he recognized who it was, he grinned broadly and tipped the small round hat on his head with his free hand.

“Why hello!” he said, trying to remember Hermel’s name. The poor lad, really, you have to say, was downright stupid. His memory didn’t last more than an hour, he couldn’t count to ten, and if he needed to save his life by planning how to go from the wood shop to the grocery store and back, he’d have died.

“You make nice doggies!” said Bantum as he held up wonderfully carved retriever in his hands. It was truly amazing how lifelike the thing was.

“So Konar, how are you doing?!” asked Arik with a cheerful clap on the shoulder. He looked as though he were being treated reasonably well.

“Good good!” replied Konar happily.

“You have enough to eat?” asked Star.

“Oh sure, food is great!” replied Konar.

“You’re not working too hard?” asked Arik.

“I don’t think so,” answered Konar, struggling to think about that.

“Well ok then, you’re doing fine. But how about the money?” asked Arik, curious to know how rich Konar was getting off of the sales of all those doggies in the window.

“I don’t know!” said Konar cheerfully. “But people like my doggies! I have to get back to work now,” he said, as he noticed the eyes of the merchant at the top of the stair were on him. The eyes of Praymar from behind were on the merchant, too. Hermel and the others went up and had themselves a little chat with the merchant.

“You treat him well, and we won’t treat you badly. Get it?” said Arik gruffly. The merchant got it. And with that they left the shop and stepped outside where they found a quiet spot to talk.

“You know,” said Hermel to the others, “we saved the Hagglemsiths from the kidnappers and they wound up starving on the street. I count Wuldcarva as a win.” The others agreed, sort of. A half-win, maybe? Hard to say.

“I asked Rothmon about the damn Hobbits, by the way,” said Arik to Hermel. “He hasn’t heard anything.”

"Oh that's too bad," replied Hermel with concern on his face. "I wonder how they are faring after all."

Star went on to tell him what had transpired with the children, and the more importantly what happened with the Black Sun stone, which he explained in whispers.

“Oh really,” said Hermel thoughtfully. “I see. Well, I am going to disappear for while and stay out of sight. I'll meet you at Lady Gray's when you're ready."

Checking Up On Rothmon

Star and the others returned to the Guild in order to find out a little bit more about the stone that the dying miner had given to them, and check up on Rothmon to see if he had recovered his senses.

Rothmon, as it turned out, had recovered and was in the Library drinking a cup of tea. When Star went in, Praymar followed, feeling quite at home now that he was a member, and Rothmon politely offered Star a cup, saying it would help calm his nerves, which it did. Rothmon didn’t notice Praymar, however, and so the albino boy had to ask him twice if there was enough tea for him. As it happened the tea was rare there was no more. So Star offered him the rest of his own cup, from which he had only take a few sips. Praymar took the cup, sniffed it, and then poured it out onto one of Rothmon’s books that sat open on the table. They stared at him, but he just darted out his forked tongue and looked around the room as though nothing had happened. Rothmon scowled at this, but said nothing. Praymar could be really annoying sometimes.

Star told Rothmon about what had happened since he’d seen him last. He showed him the rock he’d gotten from the miner again, but Rothmon only shrugged. It looked like a lump of ore, he said.

“Hermel would like to speak, in person, with Ishcandar’s father,” said Star finally. “It has something to do with his plans to rescue his sister and the others at Yellow Clay Village. I’m wondering if there is anything you can do to help?”

“I could write a letter of introduction, I suppose,” said Rothmon. And with that he took out a quill and paper and wrote up a letter, folded and sealed it with red wax and handed it to Star with the instruction to have Hermel present it along the way, and at Mr. Rokkafellah’s home residence in the Heights, which is where the noble families in Hobbington lived.

And with that Star thanked him, and took Praymar back to Lady Gray’s Tea House where he was to meet Hermel. Finding him, he gave him the letter and the instructions. Hermel was confused as to what he should do with the sealed letter, and almost opened it. Star lost his temper and began to berate him, insinuating that he was something of a country bumpkin. This surprised Hermel so much that he stopped and stared at the young warrior priest of Eldrik. Realizing he had exhibited poor behavior, Star immediately apologized, and went on to explain how worried he was about the Black Sun Stone and the end of the world and whatnot, and so sought Hermel’s forgiveness. They mended matters and it was agreed that Hermel would take the letter to the Heights and try to meet with Ischandar’s father forthwith. They agreed to all meet at the Wooden Dog Emporium in two hours.

The Meeting with Mr. Rokkafellah

And so to the Heights he went. With the letter in hand he was able to gain entry to that luxurious neighborhood, and found his way to the Rokkafellah’s mansion. It was an elaborate three story marble home with beautiful furniture and artwork everywhere. He was lead upstairs by none other than Greggin Stouthart, who said little, and then went off to find the master. Mr. Rokkerfellah met Hermel in the museum-like living room.

“I understand from our house tutor, Greggin, who saw you in, that you are same Hermel who is a member of the ‘AAA Group’ that was last seen in the company of my dear son, Ishcandar,” said Mr. Rokkafellah. “What has become of him?”

“Oh… I … uh… Well I did the best that I could,” stammered Hermel, not expecting to have to account for Ischandar. His hope was to get in, get the money for the Jade Dragon Stone in his pocket, and get out fast. This was a complication he could have lived without. Greggin glared at him with bulging eyes.

“Yes, so I went to the sewer with him and …”

“So my son is in a sewer?” asked Mr. Rokkafellah. “Is that what you’re telling me?”

Hermel stood staring with a slack jaw.

“I’m trying to understand here,” went on Mr. Rokkafellah. “You left my son in a sewer you say?”

“I don’t remember the details,” said Hermel. “It was more than five days ago. I was told to wait while he went in, and when he didn’t come out I kicked the guy in the black uniform down the ladder, and ran away,” he babbled.

Rokkafelleh raised an eyebrow. “Where’s my son?”

“The last I saw of him, about a week ago… I couldn’t get to him… but maybe I should tell you everything that happened,” said Hermel. Mr. Rokkafellah agreed and they sat down on luxurious couches with cups of tea. And so Hermel recounted the entire adventure from the beginning, how he had gotten the tarot card of the Dragon from the blind man who Ischandar had stolen money from and had a dream where the stone fell from the eye of a dragon that flew by, and how they saved the Hagglesmith children from the basement under the Five Crows Tavern, having battled Ghost Fish in the brook below the Tower on Dunn’s Bridge where Ischandar almost drowned, and how Ischandar and Lido went the wrong way in the ancient tunnels when they fled the blue light that Dr. Lobe and his creepy assistant created somehow with strange ancient machines from the dungeon, which they learned about from Bernie of the Rat’s Den who died from the poison dart of the Five Animals Gang, and how they rescued Jeremy, and Jeremeze from the bizarre underground laboratory with the horrid frogs, and the mysterious Black Knight in the pale blue glow that nearly caused the flesh to rot off their bones and killed one of kidnapers that way, when he was distracted by the entrance of a band of mysterious warriors who fled along with the rest of them, and how they were rescued during the bar fight with the Five Crows Brigands by great luck and a yellow fly and Constable Barnstormer and his men, whose timely arrival was actually a result of Ischandar’s letter that he left behind after breaking into the yellow robed man’s hotel room, and how he had to flee into the provinces to get away from the Five Animals, so he could go with Hormel to rescue his sister from the ‘Black Patch’ Bandit Gang at Yellow Clay Village, and all about their journey through the blizzard with Bantum’s clucking chicken bandoleer to the Prancing Unicorn Inn, and the feasting and dancing and music there, as well as their meeting the strangers Ibis and his henchman Korfu, and their escape from the owners of the secret salt mine to Gray Serpent Cave, where they discovered the talking chicken that Bantum had taken to wearing on his head, and the bear-woman who they met that were trying to find their missing friends and gave Star of Justice the mysterious Black Sun Stone, and whose son Praymar the albino (who could drain people by touching them) joined their party, and how Hornmel his cousin went on to Bear Claw Village to find the old teacher and bring him to Yellow Clay if he could, while they returned to the Prancing Unicorn vale where there was a disaster in the mine and fire and dead miners, and artifacts, and strange equipment and a magical canary, and ancient lion statues, and some sort of conspiracy with the Hobbington elites, and their battle with the Illusionary Frost Eagle in the forest and escape over Dragon Bridge after which the girl in the black cloak stole the poisoned box from under Senior Borge’s nose after his gaggle of young lawyers were slain by wolves in the forest and their trek through the snow shrouded night back to Hobbington so that Hemel could make enough money to hire archers and a sleeping drug with which he intended to rescue Yellow Clay Village and his sister by bringing the transformed and magical Jade Dragon Stone to Mr. Rokkafellah in the hopes he would buy it and then - Hermel took a breath.

Mr. Rokkafellah listened to all of this while nodding his head. When Hermel was quite finished, he put his hand on his chin and said, “That’s so crazy, I believe you.”

“So you are saying that my son is trapped by the Five Animals under Dr. Lobe’s Tower,” said Mr. Rokkafellah.

“Yes,” said Hermel.

“I see,” said Mr. Rokkafellah. "I know of Dr. Lobe. In fact I was one of his early benefactors before he died. I had always suspected that he was not really dead, actually," he said stroking his beard. "Very interesting, indeed."

“I would like to make a proposal to you,” said Hermel after a long pause. “I have this Jade Dragon Stone, which I believe is magical and worth a great deal. But I am but a poor country bumpkin and do not know how much it is worth. If you could find me a buyer I would be willing to give you a share of the profit,” he concluded, taking out the stone and showing it to the elder businessman.

“I would like to buy it. How much do you want for the Jade Dragon Stone?” asked Mr. Rokkafellah.

Hermel stared at him slack jawed.



Previous Episode: Interlude: The Little Brass Box
Next Episode: The Jade Dragon Stone


Monday, September 03, 2012

Interlude: The Little Brass Box

It was just after dark in the snow-shrouded wilderness east of the Dragon Bridge. The adventurers had successfully departed the Prancing Unicorn Vale without incident by evading the Bridge Guards. The wind howled through the trees, and moaned among the crags of the cliffs high above them, as the party made their way slowly to the road through the snow.

Once on the road Lanna and her husband Ben decided to return to the Gray Serpent Cave in the hopes of discovering the whereabouts of their friends, and after considerable back and forth negotiations, left Praymar to continue to journey with the AAA Group, since it was what he wished to do. That the members of the AAA Group seemed rather reluctant to have him tag along did not seem to make any impression on the young albino. Hermel in particular tried to dissuade him, but even after trying an illusionary shuffle-the-dragon-stone trick, failed to do so. Praymar was immune to trickery. And so it was that they said their farewells to Ben and Lanna, and began to make their way southward along the road toward Hobbington.

They had traveled less than a mile when Praymar, whose night vision was superior to the others, noticed the reflection of firelight on the pine trees below the cliff to the east. Hermel wished to avoid any unnecessary entanglements, and so they quietly stole into the woods to the west and made their way southward, skirting the foot of the shale hills trough the forest. The moon poked through the clouds and a wolf howled in the distance. Everyone was tired and hungry, but there was not much choice except to keep trudging along until they made Hobbington.

After a suitable distance they decided to head east back to the road. Again Praymar's night vision gave him an advanced alert; he spotted a wolf moving silently across the road in the darkness. They waited. He spotted a second wolf heading across the road to the east. Suddenly they heard a cry. A man shouted, and then there was a scream, perhaps a woman that time. Then they heard another shout and the sounds of fighting.

The party, with Hermel in the lead, against his better judgment, again, ran to the place where the battle was raging. By the time they arrived numerous men lay in pools of blood outside an elegant purple tent with golden fringe. There were two braziers outside the tent illuminating the scene in the flickering firelight. Among the dead they found Senior Borge’s four lawyerly assistants, and two guardsmen who looked like the same thugs they had encountered earlier at the Prancing Unicorn Inn; rough men with grizzled beards, now splattered in their own blood.

Hermel, having heard a sound within, stepped into the tent. There he found, to his surprise, the pretty young lady with the black cloak they had met earlier that day at the bridge, holding a long dagger to the throat of Senior Borge, who was prostrate in front of her. Her left hand gripped his hair as she stood behind him with a nasty glare in her eyes.

“Well, well, well," said Hermel as he gazed with raised eyebrows at the girl. "What’s going on?” he asked as some of the adventurers stepped inside while the remainder kept a look out for the wolves.

“He tried to take advantage of me,” said the young woman sternly. She seemed ready to slit the Senior Borge's wide bulging throat every time he tried to speak, causing a thin trickle of red blood to drip down into his white silk shirt. As the AAA Group had taken the pretty young lady's side of the story immediately, the corpulent and sweating Senior Borge, who it should be said was having a pretty bad day, was in no position to escape her clutches, or speak in his own defense.

Meanwhile, Praymar, who had been peeping at the young woman while investigating the tent, had found a little brass box on a small three legged table, which he thought looked like it might contain something of value. He inspected it for traps. He found none. He picked it up and his finger was immediately pricked with a silver needle.

“It is the poison of the black lotus, you little fool,” said Senior Borge, evidently quite smugly satisfied before being silenced by a press of the dagger. Hermel and the others knew what that meant. Soon the hideously wicked poison would go to poor Praymar’s bizarre brain and make it even more bizarre, and then he would die horribly. Without scruple Hermel negotiated with Senior Borge for the antidote, in exchange for which they would convince the young lady to spare his life. She was not especially thrilled by this suggestion, but eventually complied with their wishes, though why exactly was not quite clear. After all, she had nothing to gain by letting the fat swine live. Yet, oddly enough, for Praymar's sake, she agreed. Meanwhile, since the poison was slow acting, Praymar opened the brass box and found inside twenty silver pieces, which he put in his pocket with no shortage of glee.

“I wonder why he would protect a mere twenty silver with such a rare and hideous poison,” the young lady questioned, mostly to herself. Hermel had wondered the same thing, and intended to obtain possession of the box, thinking there was more to it than met the eye. At the time, however, everyone was focused on healing Praymar, which even with the antidote took considerable effort, and much prayer.

The wolves outside began to howl again, and the group thought it prudent to have some stand ready at the door in case they should return. Bantum and Star of Justice were stationed outside to keep an eye on the forest. The three braziers were still blazing with firelight, and around them the fallen still lay prostrate on the ground. Only one of the thugs was still alive, gasping for air, gurgling in his own blood. His throat had been slashed by the fangs of a wolf, and it did not seem he would have long to live.

Hermel, always ready to lend a healing hand to the underdog, called upon Minvar’s wondrous power to heal the villain. It did little good. Minvar is not inclined to do much for those who do not have any intention of using their precious lives to pursue goodness. Loyal to his intentions, however, Hermel tried again, and again Minvar barely heeded the call. The thug, not impressed with the efforts to save his miserable life, had no thanks for Minvar, nor for Hermel, and lay on the ground expecting to go to hell where he belonged. Hermel was not pleased. Star of Justice was called over to perform a medical surgery on the villain. It did more good than the miracles preceding it, but the fellow nevertheless seemed more intent on joining his fallen comrades in the blazing torments of hell than remaining among the living. It is difficult to heal such people, frankly, regardless of what one does. So the man lay in the blood drenched snow, gurgling and writhing in agony.

Inside the tent, the young lady in the black cape, having released Senior Borge from her fierce little grip, was examining the brass box. She began to sing a nursery rhyme of sorts. There was a bewitching quality of her voice, but she was ever so pretty, and none complained. So she sang another little rhyme, and put the box down on the table.

Star of Justice finally felt he had the time to search through his bag and find the object that the dying miner had given him back at the Prancing Unicorn Inn.

"He said, to give this to 'Ahhhhaaahhhhhaaahhh...', and then the poor fellow died. It's strange. Who in the world could 'Ahhhhaaahhhhhaaahhh...' be?" he wondered out loud as he opened the small but heavy leather kerchief.

"What's that?" asked Hermel looking over Star's shoulder.

"A dying miner back at the inn handed it to me, asking me to give it to ... 'Ahhhhaaahhhhhaaahhh...', but I never discovered who 'Ahhhhaaahhhhhaaahhh...' is," he replied, a bit bewildered. Inside the kerchief they found something even more puzzling. It was a lump of rough ore where one side seemed to be a dull redish looking metal, perhaps.

"Hmmm... well... that's odd. I wonder if 'Ahhhhaaahhhhhaaahhh...' lives in Hobbington?"

"Perhaps, perhaps," replied Star as he turned to lump of ore over a few times.

"Funny, though, that our group is named the 'AAA Group'," Hermel continued. "And if I recall correctly, didn't Rothmon say that he used to think the name of our group was pronounced 'Ahhhhaaahhhhhaaahhh...'?"

"Why that's true!" said Star, putting two plus two together. "Perhaps he intended to give it to us after all. But how would he have known to pronounce our group's name that way ... unless he were ... somehow connected to ... Rothmon...?"

"Perhaps you best put that away until we can meet with Rothmon again in Hobbington. Who knows what mystery this lump of ore may uncover," suggested Hermel.

"Well, it could just be coincidence, of course, but still, I suppose you're right. So now I have two strange artifacts from the mine. And I haven't a clue as to what either one of them is," said Star quietly putting the lump of ore in the kerchief and placing it back in his satchel. What he didn't know was that Arik, who happen to be outside standing guard, would have found that particular lump of ore quite fascinating indeed! But such is life. Often times major clues pass right under our noses, and we're never the wiser for it.

"One thing, though," added Star as he threw the satchel over his shoulder, "I do feel something strange inside this tent. Something... but I can't place it. Ever since I walked in, I've had this troublesome feeling that we're standing in a bad spot here somehow," he concluded.

"It could be," said Hermel looking around with a raise eyebrow.

It was then that the wolves returned. There was a howl in the wind, and then a commotion outside the tent as the band of wolves swept into the campsite, leaping from the shadows. But the assault was brief, and no one was injured. Only one of the dead lawyers had been dragged off into the dark forest, undoubtedly to be devoured by the slathering beasts. They waited for a while, but the wolves, having apparently achieved their aim, vanished into the distance, a single howl yet being heard far to the north. And then silence.

And so the party decided to leave that place and let the dead look after themselves. The thug, having failed to enter hell, moped as he hobbled back toward the bridge where his comrades among the living were stationed. The young lady in the black cape had decided to make her own way home, not liking much the company of Hermel and his companions after all. They had not been entirely nice to her while she had held Senior Borge by the throat, and prohibited her from slicing the blubbering, fat slob of a lawyer open. She was a tough little thing, and hoofed it off through the snow northward by herself to her family farm which she said was terribly far from there. Praymar was the only one who felt a pang of disappointment as she strode away. He had hoped to peep at her some more, but it was not meant to be, and so he resigned himself to visiting her at her farm one day in the future, if fate and destiny would allow it. It wasn't until then that Star noticed that the strange feeling he had about that place had dissipated. He looked around the tent carefully but nothing appeared to have changed. It was strange, he thought. Strange indeed.

When all was said and done, Hermel went to the box in the tent, and very gingerly picked it up. But to his surprise and amazement as soon as he touched it the box vanished in thin air. It was, he realized, just the very sort of mirage that he himself was skilled at making. Then he slapped his forehead in annoyance.

“I should have known! Why that little hussy! While she was singing those rhymes she enchanted us all! Oh how it irks me to have been tricked by her!” He was so annoyed in fact, that he contemplated following after her, but in the end decided that whatever was in the box was not quite so important as continuing on their quest to rescue his sister from Black Patch and the Bandits who had invaded Yellow Clay Village.

And so they departed the tent, and headed south on the road. Just before dawn they passed the stone circle that they had camped at the first night of their adventure into the provinces. By the time the sun rose above the hills they had made it to the bottom of the Long Stair that lead up to Hobbington. And there they stood, contemplating what they intended to do. Hermel, who had developed a master plan of sorts that would, he hoped, rescue his sister and the other villagers from Black Patch’s Bandits without causing unnecessary casualties, felt for the precious dragon stone in his pocket that was the lynch pin of his plan. It was cool to the touch and hard. He traced the dragon design with his thumb. Yes, it would be worth a great deal to the right sort of person, he thought, and the money he got for it would go a long way toward enabling him to perform the rescue. And he believed he knew who just such a person would be. None other than Ishcandar's father. With a certain amount of relish he looked up the long flight of stone stairs that traced a thin path next to the waterfalls up the mountainside to the upper Gate of Hobbington. The only thing troubling him was how to avoid the sinister Five Animals Society along the way through the town while he carried out his business. For this he had not yet developed what anyone considered a perfectly suitably foolproof plan.

And so there they stood at the base of the Long Stair. Arik was eager to get to where he might enjoy some ale and vittles. Star of Justice was eager to visit the Twelve Harmonies Pagoda and tell his masters the urgent news of the recent discoveries from the salt mine beneath the Prancing Unicorn Vale. Praymar, who was always eager to see new things and be on any sort of adventure grinned broadly as he stood next to Bantum who also stood grinning with his bandoleer of chickens all clucking happily to finally be back home where they came from. Dr. Chickenhiemer sat on Bantam’s head thinking… “I wonder whatever became of those sinister fellows, Ibis and Korfu…”



Previous Episode: Return of the Hapless Hobbits - Part II
Next Episode: A Little Business in Hobbington


Friday, August 10, 2012

Return of the Hapless Hobbits - Part II

The Abandoning of Elizabeth Warden

There they stood facing the wooden door behind which were imprisoned the lovely Elizabeth Warden and her dear father. However, having broken the incredibly massive Déjà vu Ischandar was loath to attempt to try the lock for the zillianth time and set off the alarm once again. This time, finally, instead of picking the lock, Ishcandar whispered to the girl behind the door, “I’m sorry, but I can not get you out of here just now. I will have my father bring the town guard here to rescue you. I’m sorry but we must get out of here in order to save you.”

With this, the girl began crying.  And so they left her, and her poor father, in their rush to avoid both the alarm triggered by touching the handle of her door, and more pressing on their minds in fact, the horrifying  Déjà vu.

They moved to the prison exit. Bernie disabled the thin wire, picked the lock and opened the door. They were in the outer corridor again. This time however the Déjà vu was not compelling them into the pale blue light again, so they went to the next door where the light had been before, and Bernie, none the wiser about any of it, listened carefully. There was no noise on the other side. He picked the lock and with a low “click” the door swung open. Inside the next room, the same room where the master of the Five Animals Hall had cured Ishcandar of the Tears of the Black Lotus poison in his finger, they found no one. The room itself was filled with tables and shelves packed with ancient dusty tomes, burning cauldrons, glasses with bubbling fluids, strange mists and vapors, brown and green bottles lining antique wooden shelves, and innumerable apparatus on various desks. The walls were lined with heavy wooden shelves or long tapestries. Ishcandar tried his best to find anything that looked even remotely like a bottle of wine. There was, however, nothing of the sort there, and even he did not dare attempt to swill down what he saw in the dim glass jars round about him. They passed through the room as quiet as Hobbits who are sneaking, which is to say in utmost silence. Not even a rat would have noticed their passing. As they passed the center of the room Ishcandar considered taking the red marble statue of the Phoenix on its pedestal. However, it was far too large and heavy for him to move, so they passed it without comment and kept moving. At the far end of the room in the corner there was a thick red curtain with gold tassles along the bottom.

Bernie moved forward and very carefully slid the curtain aside slightly, and peered out. He motioned for them to follow. And so they entered the central hall, known to them as White Tiger Hall, as in the center of the otherwise empty chamber was a white marble statue of a ferocious tiger. However, around the statue Ishcandar saw a pale blue glow. And then he noticed that in front of the statue there was a silloutte of a man in black platemale carrying a shield and a sword.

A voice echoed throughout the chamber. “There is no time left, … there is no time left, … there is no time left…”

The man was walking towards them. However, he made no noise at all. Not even the faintest stirring of sound.

Ishcandar took out the scrap of the calendar he had found. He looked at it, but he could not make out the month, day or year. However, he could see that there was a picture of a little angel holding up a clock with her little wings behind her back. He could not get a bead on the date, no matter how hard he tried. He took his eyes off the calendar, and looking up found that they were all standing in an old musty attic room. There they saw the girl from the calendar picture holding a clock in her hand, and staring out the attic window dreamily. It was a sunny summer day outside, old willow trees swaying in the wind, and beyond a grassy field was a lovely little brook burbling into a pond covered in lilacs and lily pads. The girl was crying.

The Girl That Was No More

The black knight stood in the room towering over the girl. He seemed poised to strike as his sword was raised over his head. They still heard the echoing voice repeating, “… There is no time left, …there is no time left, … there is no time left…”

The girl began turning the clock hands backwards with her little finger. And as she did she seemed to get younger and younger and younger. Ishcandar suddenly wanted to tear the terrible clock from her hands and began running towards her. But he felt as though he were moving in slow motion, and as she turned the clock hands backwards and grew younger and younger, the black knight, also moving in slow motion, slashed downward with his sword. It all happened so slowly, and yet too quickly for Ishcandar to do more than watch helplessly as the events tumbled forward. The girl grew younger and younger until she became a tiny infant, and less than that, and then vanished, as the knight’s sword swung in a long slow arc just over her head. Having missed his target the knight stumbled forward and tripped, falling headlong into a bookshelf, from which many books slowly tumbled into the air, scattering papers, including a wall calendar that had been poised on the top of the bookcase. The calendar’s pages broke free and tumbled through the air like so many leaves in the wind.

The scene faded and they found themselves back in the White Tiger Hall. The black knight was gone, but the pale blue glow remained. However the glow was also slowly fading, and then finally vanished from view. Ishcandar and Lido heaved a huge sigh of relief. Bernie, however, was shocked to the core by what had just happened. He had never experienced anything like that in his life, and was not sure that he had not gone completely insane.

“Bernie, let’s not worry about that now,” whispered Lido. “Let’s get out of here, and we can discuss it later over some tall drinks and dinner.”

“Oh? Drinks? That’s an excellent idea! Let’s go!” Ishcandar chimed in with a whisper.

When Hobbits Fumble

“Ok, ok,” said Bernie, seeming to snap out of it. Lido dragged him by the sleeve and they moved past the white tiger statue. They moved quietly past another red curtain. Inside they heard voices. They tip toed as quietly as possible. Lido moved passed as silently as a shadow. But oddly enough Ishcandar, still somewhat drunk, and a bit disoriented from the most recent events, scuffed his foot on the floor, making a slight noise. Bernie, who was still completely weirded out by what had just happened almost tripped over him when Ishcandar stopped momentarily to adjust his balance. This made another slight noise. Now one would think that only a titmouse would have noticed those two noises. But the master of Five Animals Hall had senses that even a titmouse would envy. He stood up.

Hearing motion in the room beyond the curtain, the two Hobbits and their rescuer very gingerly made haste across White Tiger Hall to the far curtain where Bernie was leading them. As they dodged through the red curtain the white haired master was drawing aside his own curtain. Ishcandar paused to look back and see if anyone had come to investigate. When the master saw the ruffling of the curtain on the far side of the room, and the little Hobbit face peering out from behind it, he grew quite angry.

“Men! Get them!” he barked behind him. A group of men in black robes burst out of the room and ran full tilt across White Tiger Hall. By then, however, the Hobbits and Bernie were already on the other side of the next room, running pell mell past a large marble statue of a bear. They followed Bernie and dodged through an open archway. They entered another room and ran to a door, which Bernie opened and ran though. They came to a small corridor and Bernie ran to another door, one of several, and dashed through. They followed. They ran down a corridor and ran through another open archway. Bernie, it should be said, was running randomly, terrified out of his wits by what he could not possibly comprehend.

“Bernie,” asked Lido, finally when they paused in a corridor. “Do you know where you are going?”

“I’m pretty sure this is the way,” said Bernie looking this way and that. There was a door. An old and musty door. It looked a bit familiar to Lido. As they heard the sounds of foot falls running in their direction, Bernie ran to it and tried to pull it open. It would not budge. He took out his lock picking tools and with shaking hands fiddled with the lock. Finally it opened. They dashed through into the darkness.

They stood still. Bernie, fortunately, had the wonderful ability to see clearly in the dark if he focused his mind on it. He did so.

“We’re in a spiral stair going down,” he whispered.

“That sounds familiar,” replied Lido hesitantly. “Are you sure this is the right way? I mean this is the way you came in, isn’t it?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” replied Bernie. “I don’t recall a spiral stair. There was a ladder. But anyway, we don’t have any choice; we certainly can’t go back. Besides, it has to lead out of here one way or another,” he concluded.

“I’ve been down here,” said Lido.

“You have? What’s down here?” asked Bernie and Ishcandar incredulously together.

“A lot of really weird stuff, actually,” replied Lido nervously.

“Can it be any weirder than the freakish thing that just happened in the White Tiger Hall?” asked Bernie, growing upset.

“Well, I have to say, it’s possible,” answered Lido slowly.

“Really??” exclaimed Bernie. “Gah! I’m getting out of here,” he choked out as he moved back toward the door.

“Wait,” said Lido. “You can’t go back that way. As you said, they’re close behind us. You’ll surely be captured,” he reasoned.

“Ok, right,” said Bernie, coming back to himself again. “We better forge ahead, then.”

Down The Spiral Stairwell

And so they went very slowly downward. Since he’d been there before Lido knew that there was a nook in the wall in which there was a brass lantern. He mentioned it to Bernie who took it and lit it. Now they had light. With that they crept down the long spiral stairs very slowly.

As they made their way down the stairs Lido recounted the entire tale of what he had seen down there before, except he left out the part about the bizarre stick men from hell that he’d encountered. For all he knew they were still looking for him. Better not to mention it, he thought, as it might send poor Bernie straight over the edge. But he did tell them all about the strange apparitions he'd witnessed, and the hour glass that the master had instructed him to turn over. He tried to leave out the truly frightening bits.

“What would happen, do you suppose, if we broke the hourglass?” asked Ishcandar.

“You … would … ask … that,” commented Lido.

A wind began to blow down the spiral stairs. It was a cold wind. Lido got a chill. They noticed that the dust on the stairs began to stir. He noticed cobwebs billowing in the corners of the steps. It did not bode well, he thought, not for the last time.

“As strange as it may seem, you may be on to something, Ishcandar,” said Lido. “Perhaps if we do something to the hourglass, something will happen. But unfortunately, we don’t have any idea what.”

“I say that we take away from the master what he cherishes most. The hourglass,” pronounced Ishcandar boldly.

“You are a small man,” replied Lido, “but never let it be said that you have small dreams.”

Eventually they came to the bottom of the stairs. There they found a door just like the one they came through at the top. Above the door along the lintel Ishcandar read an engraved script that Bernie had pointed out.

“As above, so below,” he read.

Bernie, who was not well educated, wondered vaguely what it could mean, but he didn’t spend much time thinking it over. He opened the door. Inside they found a large circular room. It was completely dark. They saw by the light of the lantern, the glinting of metal on a table in the center of the room. Ishcandar pulled out his sling and a stone as he gauged the distance. He would have liked to have taken a pot shot at the hourglass, but it was really too far away.

Bernie looked dubiously at the Hobbit. He didn’t care for this plan at all. Who knows what in the world might happen if they broke the hourglass. To his mind, unstable as it had recently become, it sounded like a recipe for disaster.

“Sometimes I find it’s best to give him space to let him do what he’s going to do,” Lido said to Bernie, trying to shore up his confidence. “It always seems to work out for the best somehow,” he added unpersuasively.

Bernie raised an eyebrow. In any event Ishcandar found that he was out of range. He walked into the room. Lido followed him, watching the side of the room where he had seen the apparition the first time he had been there. Bernie remained in the door holding up the lantern, which was giving off a pale blue light.

In the center of the room was the three legged table, on which was a large hourglass inside a brass globe of sorts. It was very intricately designed. Sand was flowing from the top section of the hourglass to the bottom. Ishcandar felt as though he was moving in slow motion.

“… there is no time left,… there is no time left, … there is no time left…”

Ishcandar broke into a run in order to get himself in range of the hourglass as quickly as his little Hobbit feet could, but he was moving in slow motion and it seemed to take forever for him to make it a few steps.

“… there is no time left,… there is no time left, … there is no time left…”

“You keep saying that,” yelled Lido into the chamber, “but you will notice; we are still here!”

“… there is no time left,… there is no time left, … there is no time left…”

“I’m starting to get rather irritated with that statement! Quite peeved, in fact!” he said stamping his foot.

The Blond Boy Who Turned Pages Backwards

Ishcandar pulled out the calendar page again from his pocket. This time, oddly enough, the picture was different. Now it was of a little blond haired boy outside sitting under a tree reading a story book. Ishcandar could still not make out the date. When he looked up again, he found that they were standing in a field of grass. There, not far off, was the blond haired boy, who was staring out at a beautiful sunset. The boy was reading a story book. But he was turning the pages backwards. And as he did he grew younger and younger. Ishcandar tried to grab the book, but found he could not reach it in time.

From behind the tree stepped out the black knight who swiftly swung his sword toward the boy’s head. Ishcandar could not, no matter how hard he tried, move quickly enough. The light of scene began changing, and everything was moving in slow motion. The leaves were billowing slowly, as was the grass, and people’s cloths, but the sun was setting ever so rapidly, and all of the shadows moved swiftly across the landscape forming fantastic and bizarre shapes as far as the eye could see. The clouds billowed past the stars as though time was speeding ahead, but the boy turned the pages with incredible slowness. A leaf fell to the ground, taking a hundred years. An ant climbed a blade of grass for a thousand years before ascending to the top. The twisting of time was utterly maddening, and it’s a wonder that anyone’s mind was able to survive it at all.

And yet, the Hobbits minds were not at all destroyed. They merely watched, astonished, amused, and even terrified, … but were not driven to insanity. Bernie, on the other hand, it must be said, did not have a mind so resilient as that. He stood in the doorway; gaping in absolute unmitigated horror, sweat pouring down his face, his entire body trembling uncontrollably. At that moment Lido was looking over his shoulder to see how Bernie was faring, and caught sight of his back as he turned to flee back up the spiral stairs, madness having overtaken him with horror.

The black knight was carving an arc through the air towards the boy ever so slowly. They could hear his voice from the armor yelling “Nooooooooo!!” as the boy turned into an infant, and less, and then vanished completely. The scene faded and they found themselves back in the dark hourglass chamber.

An Amazing Discovery from the Past

Against one wall they saw a blue glow as though being shined on by a stage light. The Hobbits watched as two apparitions formed within a scene. It was a scientific laboratory, much like Doctor Lobe's. There were two men standing there. One of them stood with his back towards the Hobbits, and the other facing that man. The second man was an aristocrat with blond hair. The other looked to be a scientist with a white lab coat, and gloves. At first it appeared that they were talking but no sound was being made. Slowly they began to hear the voices, at first as though from a great distance, and then more clearly until they could hear what was being said.

“What do you make of these discoveries, Doctor?” asked the blond man.

“It is certainly intriguing,” said the scientist as he turned towards the aristocrat. As he turned the Hobbits recognized the man. It was Doctor Lobe. But a much younger Doctor Lobe. “We’ve done a number of experiments thus far. It’s been very interesting, and I’ve managed to collect a great deal of very valuable data,” said the young Doctor. “I suggest you try it.”

“What do you think the risk is?” asked the blond aristocrat.

“I don’t know, frankly. We’ve tried a number of artifacts thus far, and nothing dreadful has happened. And we’ve gotten a better understanding of their nature.”

“Ok, I’ll try it,” said the blond man. He walked over to a suit of black platemale and as soon as he touched the gauntlet to take it, he vanished into the armor as though it came up and surrounded him like a ghost. The armor stepped forward and picked up the sword and the shield and held them.

“Doctor Lobe, I can see,” said the suit of armor in the voice of the blond aristocrat, “behind you!”

The armor stepped forward as Doctor Lobe stepped quickly to a box and turned some dials and flipped a switch. Lights flickered along the front panel. Then a blue glowing ball of light appeared in the scene, and the black knight merged with the blue glow and vanished. Doctor Lobe raised an eyebrow and stroked his beard with his hand. He then turned and went to another odd looking box with switches and lights on the table and began turning dials.

“Is it done?” asked a voice that sounded low and powerful.

“Indeed, it is done,” replied Doctor Lobe.

“Lord Dunn won’t be bothering us anymore,” said the low voice with a sinister laugh. “You had better take the next step.”

And then the scene faded, and the Hobbits found themselves standing in the hourglass chamber again. Lido and Ischandar both realized that the man in the black armor must be Lord Dunn. How strange. As far as they had learned or ever heard, Lord Dunn had been one of the great barons who had come with the expedition across the mountains from the Kingdom of Oswald to try to find and rescue the King’s twin children, Sun Prince and Moon Flower. There had been a great avalanche high in the mountains back blocked their way back to Oswaldia, and so the Lords followed the mysterious Queen Watho and her brother to Glendale Valley. The Queen, it was rumored, had captured Lord Dunn’s affections, and the other barons became angry with him, or jealous perhaps. The army was divided and so Lord Dunn and his followers made their way, with the Queen’s guidance, to Hobbington, and populated that ancient mountain city for the first time in hundreds of years. In the end, though a mighty hero and savior of the people, Lord Dunn, it was said, hurled himself off of the Dunn’s Brook Bridge Tower in a fit of madness, though the reason why was shrouded in mystery. Some said his lover, Queen Watho, drove him mad. Others said that his discovery of ancient artifacts beneath Hobbington were the cause. Now, it seemed, there might be another explanation for the Lord’s disappearance after all.

Lido took out a piece of paper. He scribbled on it “Lord Dunn is black knight ghost in Dunn’s Tower”. He stuffed the paper in his pocket. It was a precaution in case somehow he slipped backwards in time and forgot, or went mad, or some other calamity befell them. At this point Ishcandar was nearly within sling shot range of the hourglass.

Playing Mind Games with Time

“There is no time left, … there is not time left, … there is no time left…” the voice echoed throughout the chamber. Suddenly Ishcandar noticed a shadow, like a panther, circling the chamber near him.

“Who are you?” asked Ishcandar. The shadow beast growled. It had a leering sound in its voice and spoke, “It’s dinner time.”

“But you said ‘There is no time left’”, replied Ishcandar. With that the shadow seemed to shift towards Ishcandar. It seemed to be moving to intercept the Hobbit and get between him and the hourglass. Lido stood gaping, his sanity not terribly far from it’s limit. The shadow shifted closer to Ishcandar another twenty feet suddenly.

Ishcandar stopped and took out his calendar again, asking the shadow panther, “Do you know what this is?”

The shadow beast turned to look at the page in Ishcandar’s hand.

“Time is on my side,” said the shadow panther with a sinister laugh.

“What do you propose to do?” asked Ishcandar nervously.

“It’s dinner time,” replied the creature.

“You do realize, that Hobbit over there as a bit more meat on his bones, don’t you?” asked Ishcandar impulsively.

“That’s true,” admitted Lido to the shadow beast, “but I have to say, that Hobbit has such a distinctive pickle flavor. I’m sure he’s quite tasty!”

“Ishcandar,” said Lido, “I think maybe we should get out of here.” He looked over his shoulder as he began to back away. Bernie was gone, but the door was still open. Lido was turning toward it in slow motion.

Ishcandar decided to tear the calendar in half. As he tried he felt his hands age. They got creaky with arthritis, became wrinkled, cracked and his fingernails grew long. Remembering what he’d seen before, he turned himself to the right. As he did so, he heard the shadow beast growl.

“There’s no time left, left, left…” echoed through the hall. Ishcandar as he turned grew younger. His hands healed. But he kept turning and so grew younger and younger. He kept turning, until he was nine years old.

“Ishcandar, what are you doing?” shouted Lido. “You’re too young to drink!”

With this Ischandar deeply regretted his action, but he saw no choice but to keep turning. It was a strange compulsion that had taken him over. With that Lido gave up, and abandoned Ischandar to his dreadful fate, and turned to run through the door.

As he did, he saw the black knight silently enter the chamber, running past Lido in slow motion. Lido crept away up the stairs, keeping his eye toward the door through which he could see the knight running into the room in slow motion. He watched terrified as Ishcandar turned into an infant, still turning himself around.

The black knight came running toward Ishcandar with his sword raised.

“It was the best of times!” the black knight called out. With that the shadow creature shifted again, Ishcandar had the impression that the creature swept past him and changed form.

“It was the worst of times!” squeaked Ishcandar, the infant, and with that the shadow turned back into a panther, growled ferociously, and leapt towards the hapless Hobbit.

“It was the best of times!” cried Ishcandar, and he began turning himself in the other direction, hoping to grow older. In fact, that worked, and he did begin to grow older as he turned.

“There is no time like the present,” said the black knight, and with that Ishcandar suddenly returned to his normal age.

The shadow panther leapt at the knight, sailing over him, and the knight slashed upward with his sword, grazing the creature along its right side. It landed and rolled into a ball and then sprang again with a ferocious growl.

“There is no time like the future,” called out Ishcandar to no effect. The knight lunged with his sword again catching the shadow beast, piercing his leg.

What to Say, and What Not to Say

Meanwhile Lido watched the scene from outside the chamber. He marveled at how time seemed to be flowing at different rates within the room, to the point where even some parts of Ishcandar appeared to be moving quickly, while other parts looked to be moving in slow motion as though wading through molasses. It was a terrifying experience. He felt truly on the verge of losing his mind. He decided he should not try to re-enter the chamber, and so he stood outside, transfixed to the spot, a look of dread covering his face.

“You’re out of time,” said the shadow panther to Ishcandar. Lido watched with horror as Ishcandar vanished, softly fading away. However, Ishcandar was actually still there. Or rather we might say he was still at the location. But he was trapped inside a kind of bubble that had trapped him outside of the realm of time. What he saw there no one will ever know, for it was as though he could see every time at that spot all mixed together into a vast, breathtaking and unimaginable vortex that swirled around the bubble stretching off into eternity. Fortunately, the young Hobbit’s drunken mind was undisturbed by any of this. He found himself rather amused, and tried to focus as best he could on the time at hand.

At that moment, the knight leapt forward, and grazed the shadow thing with a sweeping slice of his sword. The panther-like creature landed and turned toward the knight with a terrible growl. It appeared to be bleeding some sort of shadowy substance which vanished into thin air.

Lido, desperate to find his dear friend, thought to run into the chamber to search for him. Lido is a very loyal little fellow, and in particular to Ishcandar. As it turns out, Lido felt that Ishcandar, of all people, was someone that he aspired to be like. Rich, friendly, adventurous, and good with the ladies. Poor Lido.

Lido activated the Ring of Telepathy. “Ishcandar! Can you hear me?”

“I can hear you!” said replied Ishcandar from within the time-bubble.

“Where are you!?”

“I’m not entirely sure! I’m trying to watch the knight battle the shadow panther!”

“I can’t see you!” thought Lido loudly in his mind.

“Yes, somehow I am trapped inside some sort of very peculiar bubble. It would be hard to describe what I’m experiencing. In any case, be careful what you say about time. Come into the room, and help me! The knight is fighting on our side. He seems to be trying to kill the shadow panther!”

“Time makes fools of us all!” shouted Lido through the doorway.

Everyone there experienced a strange thing when he said that. Their collective wisdom was instantly siphoned off somewhere, and they all felt suddenly dumbfounded, and even a little bit retarded, perhaps. It was apparently, just the wrong thing to say. The Shadow Panther smiled as it circled around the black knight, calculating its next attack shrewdly.

“Ok!” said Lido, impressed, “Now I have a real cunning plan,” he said thickly. It may be that he became too stupid to be afraid. Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside the room. It felt strange indeed, but he did not go insane.

“Time is the great healer!” he shouted loudly into the chamber.

Lord Dunn stood up a little taller, and felt stronger. What wounds he'd received and fatigue he felt vanished suddenly.

“It’s knight time!” Ishcandar shouted, somewhat excessively delighted with his little pun.

By luck or brilliance it happen to be just the right sort of pun, however. Lord Dunn began to move more swiftly until he was seemed to Lido to become a ribbon streaking through the air at nearly blinding speed. The shadow panther growled wildly, and coiled to strike at him, but the knight was faster still, to the great alarm and shock of the beast. He raised his sword high and cleaved downward through the creature so that his sword passed straight through it's hideous head, hitting the stone floor so hard that sparks flew in every direction. The shadow panther shrieked with a dreadful cry, and vanished. All of the time distortions gently ceased.

Lord Dunn was leaning heavily on his shield, his black platemale seeming to shimmer in the process of coming into normal time. The effort he just expended in that final blow was enormous, and though healed, he was nevertheless exhausted and panting heavily.

The time shell that surrounded Ishcandar dissolved and he found himself standing in the chamber. Time seemed to have returned to normal for them all.

The Time Hunter, Lord Dunn

“Thank you, Sir knight!” said Ishcandar with a bow and graceful flourish of his hand.

“Lord Dunn?” asked Lido.

The knight in the black platemale stirred slowly. He stood up and sheathed his dark sword and slung the black shield on his back.

“Indeed, I am he," said the black knight. "Finally, I have slain that wicked beast!” panted Lord Dunn with evident relief and satisfaction. “I had been chasing it for a long time, indeed. The beast had committed many crimes,” he said grimly. “But now justice has been done, and the wicked thing is gone.”

“We are most grateful to you, Sir, that you chose this time to succeed,” said Ishcandar.

“I did not choose it,” he replied sincerely. “Had it not been for the luck of you two Hobbits, and your quick wits, and courage, I might never had succeeded, but had continued following after it forever, coming only close enough to slaying it to behold each time-ravaging-murder that it committed, and being blamed for each one, as had happened countless times already. I must thank you both, indeed, it is I who am very grateful,” concluded Lord Dunn with a bow.

“Did this help you at all?” asked Ishcandar holding up the calendar page.

“You ought to burn that,” said Lord Dunn. “It has grave powers, and could cause you troubles, perhaps, if you hold on to it for long,” he suggested vaguely.

“I should burn it?!” asked Ishcandar, loath to lose anything so powerful.

“You may bring it to the temple in Hobbington. The monks at the Heavenly Harmony Pagoda should know what to do,” he said.

“What would happen if we destroyed the hourglass?” asked Ishcandar.

“I dread to imagine,” said Lord Dunn looking over at the device in the center of the chamber.

“What if we turned it on it’s side?” queried Ishcandar again.

“It is an interesting question. I don’t know,” he said.

“We have a dilemma, my Lord. You see behind us, at the top of the spiral stairs, I fear there are very ruthless men waiting to kill us. Is there another way by which we might exit this chamber?” asked Lido, his wisdom returning to him in its entirety.

“This chamber,” answered Lord Dunn thoughtfully, “is called ‘The Wheel of Time’. From here, I have found that you can go… anywhere.”

“Can we go to ‘anywhen’?” asked Ishcandar, his (somewhat scanty) wisdom also returning to him.

“I have seen the Shadow Beasts use this chamber to go to other places, and other times. I am not entirely sure of how the mechanism works. But it has to do with the placement of the hourglass, and the position of the globes on the table. They are very precise about how they use it, I believe,” said Lord Dunn.

“He said ‘Beasts’”, murmured Ishcandar to Lido looking around fearfully.

“In this armor I am able to hunt them. The armor, it seems, anchors me in time somehow.” said Lord Dunn, “and the sword is the only thing I know of that they are vulnerable to. The shield, of course, is able to deflect their attacks. The only thing I have lacked thus far is the ability to catch up with them. The creatures seem to swim through time somehow, speeding up or slowing down at will. They are very elusive!”

“That’s awful,” said Lido.

“Unfortunately, I should tell you, that I am nevertheless trapped. It would seem that somehow I am caught in some sort of Time Eddy, and have been unable to escape it. I shall soon fade from you, I fear, and you will see me no more,” said Lord Dunn gravely.

“That’s awful, too,” said Ishcandar. “Is there anything we can do to help you?”

“I wish there were, my young Hobbit friends,” he said, a certain bleakness entering his voice.

“We saw a vision of you with Doctor Lobe earlier. We saw you in some other time, perhaps. He looked much younger then, and so it must have been an earlier time, I should think. It seemed as though it was the moment that you first took the armor from Doctor Lobe,” Lido explained.

“I am trapped in a kind of whirlpool of time. I cannot tell what your time is, but I do recall, I think, that the year I took the armor was 141 New Kingdom, though,... I can't be certain anymore,” he said.

“That was ten years ago by our reckoning,” said Ischandar in wonderment. It was the same year, as he recalled that Lord Dunn had reputedly hurled himself into Dunn’s Brook. Ishcandar noted to himself that their little adventure had netted them a great treasure’s worth of information for the Guild, but he said nothing of that at the moment.

Lord Dunn walked silently to the hourglass. He put his hand to it in order to turn it on it’s side, but his hand passed through it as though the mechanism and the table were made of shadows. Ishcandar put his hand to it, and turned the hourglass on its side. There was a blue light in the hall, and they saw an archway appear, from which glowed a pale blue light.

“You must go that way, and without delay,” said Lord Dunn, pointing. The young Hobbits were eager to be on their way, but loath to leave Lord Dunn in his current helpless state. Already they could see that he was becoming translucent and his voice echoing faintly.

“We will help you if we can!” said Ishcandar earnestly.

“Beware of Doctor Lobe… doctor lobe… doctor lobe…,” his voice echoed as Lord Dunn faded away and vanished. And with that the Hobbits ran across the chamber and leapt through the archway.

Off to a Far Away Place

They found themselves running pell-mell into a small vale surrounded by rocky hills and cliffs. There was snow on the ground. Ahead of them they saw an old worn down shack. There was an old woman in the front yard shoveling snow. She grunted and heaved snow from the path with her broom. Something about her gait seems a bit odd.

“My good woman,” shouted Ishcandar to her, “kindly tell us, what year is this?”

The woman was so startled that she dropped her broom.

“Oh my goodness! You gave me such a fright! Where in heaven’s name did you come from?” she demanded, with her hands raised to her cheeks.

“Over there!” said Ischandar pointing behind them. Glancing back he noted that they had apparently just exited the solid wall of a cliff that overhung behind them. He ignored that, and acted as though it were an entirely normal thing, and repeated his question.

"Why I'm not sure..." replied the old woman still flustered. "I think it is the year 151, or so," she said, bewildered by the fact that two Hobbits had mysteriously come through the side of the cliff, and were asking such a bizarre question.

"Thank you kindly, ma'am. And could you also please tell us," asked Lido, "where in the name of the Elkron we are?"

This question seemed to fluster her even more. However, after a few moments of gaping she said, "Well, if you want to know, this is my home! I live here!" she said finally.

The Hobbits grunted.

"Ma'am would you be able to tell us where the closest town is?" asked Lido.

"Oh, the closest town is Hamfest, over that way," she said, pointing a bony finger over the hills. "But how rude of me! You must be cold and weary from your travels. Why don't you come inside and I'll give you a nice warm bowl of soup," said old Biddy Mable.

And so it was that the Hobbits found themselves in front of a cozy fire, with delicious warm bowls of soup, chatting amiably with poor lonely Biddy Mable. She was so happy to have guests, she was besides herself. The Hobbits were very well attended indeed, and eventually they found her company as warm and soothing as the delicious herb soup. They noticed how cozy and comfortable her home actually was after all, with so many pillows and a pantry full of foods and herbs, and a warm fire, and nice looking beds for guests. The only thing missing, thought Ishcandar as he began to doze off, was a certain lack of wine...



Previous Episode: Return of the Hapless Hobbits - Part I
Next Episode: Interlude: The Little Brass Box


Wednesday, August 08, 2012

Return of the Hapless Hobbits - Part I

The Prisoners of Five Animals Hall

Meanwhile... about nine days earlier in Hobbington ...

Ishcandar and Lido watched as the student in the black robes closed the door behind him. They wondered vaguely if they would ever see the light of day again, but shrugged it off lightly. Ishcandar uncorked the wine on his night table and took a swig of the rich aromatic liquor. Lido sat at the desk and pulled out a piece of parchment paper and ink kit from his backpack and began studiously drawing the map of the dungeon as he remembered it thus far. Ishcandar laid down on his bed and swigged from the bottle contentedly. He felt very alert, his senses practically tingling from the Jarrow Tea. He gazed at the fine silver band with the small turquoise stud on it that was on his finger. This ring was given to him by the Guild Master Rothmon with the instructions to use it to communicate with any of the other six ring wearers when need be. Lido was another ring wearer, as was Rothmon himself. The other three rings the Guild Master had left in the wooden box and put away. All of the rings were identical, finely crafted, and softly glowing with mystical energy.

As Lido finished up his map, he heard Ishcandar uncork the other bottle of wine that was on his table. He looked up briefly, and his friend smiled congenially, raised the bottle in the air saluting him, and took a long happy swig. Lido was considering taking a morsel of cheese or piece of fruit from the tray on his night table when, at that moment he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. A quick glance allowed him to spot a rat skittering under the bed. He noticed that the rat had a brown patch over one eye and long white tail, and recognized it immediately as Bernie’s rat. He went over to the bed and knelt down to look under it. Yes, indeed it was definitely Bernie’s rat, now up on two legs sniffing. Lido took a cube of cheese from the tray, and offered it.

“Eeep eeep,” squeaked the rat, and took the cheese in his little paws and began gnawing away at it greedily. Though he didn’t really care much for Hobbits generally, the rat had begrudging respect for them, as they were practically the only creatures he knew that could in a pinch actually sneak up on him. But in this case it was no concern, he had been sent to find them, and so he had, and now they had rewarded him. He decided these Hobbits were so bad after all.

“It’s Bernie’s rat,” said Lido.

“Oh really. Well if you don’t mind, I think I’ll have a bit more of your wine.”

“Well, leave a bit of cheese, at least, will you?”

“Not too worry,” Ishcandar replied merrily. “I don’t touch the stuff.”

The rat made his way along the shadows beneath the bed, and slipped through a hole in the stonework. He was making his way back to Bernie who was waiting for his return in a nearby corridor.

After a few minutes there was a sound at the door, ever so gentle. The door handle moved. Both Ishcandar and Lido perked up and stared at it.

“I do hope they brought more wine,” said Ishcandar.

Lido went to open the door for the unknown person in the hall. However, he found that the door was locked. This did not entirely surprise him. He waited as someone from the outside unlocked the door with a skillful twist of a metal pin. Both of the Hobbits were familiar with the technique, and at this point were not surprised either to see Bernie slide the door open and slip in, quiet as a rat.

The Rat Arrives

“Bernie!” shouted Ishcandar happily, and raised the bottle in the air again before taking another three glugs. Bernie glared at him, silently slid the door shut, and looked around the room. He casually sat down by the tray of cheese.

“Friend!” exclaimed Ishcandar, now deeply puzzled, “how about a drink?”

“No thanks,” he replied coolly. “I didn’t come to drink.”

“Are you here to … ?” asked Lido with his voice trailing off.

“You may not realize it, but you happen to be in quite a bit of danger here. I’ve come to rescue you,” said Bernie finishing his sentence for him.

“You know something, then, of the Five Animals that we should know?” asked Lido.

“Why do you think the door was locked?” asked Bernie.

“Well, now that you mention it, I don’t figure it was for our protection,” answered Lido thoughtfully.

“It wasn’t,” replied Bernie as he poked a cube of cheese with his dagger and popped it into his mouth.

“Perhaps it was for their own protection from us,” offered Ishcandar grinning drunkenly.

“Yes, you do cut a fearsome figure, you two,” Bernie commented dryly with a sideways glance.

“I take it you made your way here unnoticed?” asked Lido.

“Of course.”

“And you can get us out the same way?” he continued.

“That will be more difficult,” said Bernie as he gave his pet rat a cheese cube to nibble on. “Your accommodations are in fact located at the center of a prison block.”

“I must say, this prison has the nicest bed I’ve slept on, ever, I think,” responded Lido, not quite convinced of Bernie’s story.

“Mine is a bit lumpy,” put in Ishcandar, taking another swig from his wine bottle.

“Yes, well it’s a form of torture. ‘Lumpy bed’. It’s very annoying after many many years. Quite diabolical, isn’t it?” replied Bernie sarcastically.

“I’m used to a pile of dung on the floor,” said Lido sincerely. “Sometimes there’s a little bit of straw on top of the dung. If I’m lucky, it’s fresh and soft, otherwise I must suffer with it being hard and crusty.”

“Ayeee… that’s enough. I’m leaving,” said Bernie, with a disgusted glare.

“What? My family is very poor,” said Lido with a hint of injured pride in his voice.

Bernie turned back toward the cheese plate and took another piece as he sized up the two hapless Hobbits. He glanced around the room while giving another bit of cheese to his pet rat who greedily nibbled away at it, also glancing around the room.

“What is your plan, then, good Bernie?” asked Ishcandar.

“My plan is get you out of here,” he answered plainly.

“Well as you can see, we are doing splendidly,” said Ishcandar lifting the wine to his lips yet again.

“On my way I discovered that the master of the Five Animals Hall is not such a pleasant fellow after all,” continued Bernie. “In fact, he has here quite a number of prisoners. Many of them are children. Most are emaciated. I fear he intends them no good.”

“Well,” said Ishcandar, finally perking up with a serious look around. “We must get everyone out of here, then.”

“Wait a second,” answered Bernie, putting up his hand. “I didn’t say anything about getting anyone else out of here… just you,” he concluded with a dark gaze.

“What of Hermel?” asked Ishcandar. “Is he going to get a brigade to come and break us out of here? He’s a trustworthy friend if there ever was one,” said Ishcandar enthusiastically.

“Well, um… well, I’m not so sure you can rely on him for that,” answered Bernie, annoyed at the suggestion that there might be any alternative to his own escape plan. “He did seem quite peeved any time he mentioned you two, actually. Something about Hobbits being lousy, no-good, unpredictable, drunken fools, or some such,” he concluded.

“I can’t see how that could be!” protested Ishcandar. “We got along so fondly together, like brothers practically!”

“I always thought he liked us,” said Lido.

“Well, I can see why he would like you,” answered Bernie, his eyes shifting. “But he kept mentioning something about Hobbits causing so much trouble… being so crazy…”

“He must have been talking about some other Hobbits,” said Lido, quite perplexed.

“I-I-I-I… suppose… it’s possible…” answered Bernie slowly.

“Does he even know any other Hobbits?” asked Ishcandar.

“He did mention, however, that Ishcandar’s father would be very … “ said Bernie.

“My father?” asked Ishcandar glugging down the last of his wine suddenly.

“Yes, he said your father would be rather upset that you were captured. I happen to overhear him speaking with some fellow who showed up at the Guild Hall claiming he was sent by your father to look for you. He said he was your teacher, in fact.”

“My teacher?” exclaimed Ischandar, looking down the barrel of his wine bottle to see if there was at least another drop left.

“Yes, a Mr. Stoutheart I believe,” answered Bernie.

“I need more wine!’ Ischandar exclaimed as he put the empty bottle on the table with a bang. “At any rate, I feel rather content here in prison after all. I don’t see any need to leave. We’ll get along just fine here. No need to bother. You may as well get along now Bernie. I’ve decided to stay!”

“Well, to be honest, there is another matter at hand of some import. This Mr. Stoutheart happen to mention that your father, as it turns out, is a rather wealthy man about town,” explained Bernie.

“Well yes, that can be said,” answered Ishcandar hurriedly.

“And, he went on to add that anyone who was able to bring you back home would be sure to get quite a handsome reward for the effort,” Bernie continued.

“Hmmmm…” said Ishcandar thoughtfully.

“Do you think that’s true?” asked Bernie.

“Hmmmm… my father? Offering a reward for … me?”

A Gentleman’s Agreement

“Well, as it happened,” Bernie went on, “Hermel, whom I’m sure likes you very sincerely, suggested to Mr. Stoutheart that he return to your father and advise him to use his enormous wealth to raise a large force of fighting men to come here and extract you from this prison. When I heard that I thought to myself, ‘Oh my, that would be sure to get those two poor innocent Hobbits killed!’ So I took it upon myself to come and rescue you right away. I can’t imagine what terrible fate would be in store for you if a force of fighters came blundering in here demanding your release!”

“Well, Elkron knows, I will certainly take care of you,” said Ishcandar, suddenly quite eager to depart the premises. He felt for his money pouch, but found that it was missing. Instead he found a much smaller pouch with only two silver pieces in it. He then recalled vaguely that Hermel had demanded his money back at the bar in exchange for saving his life yet again.

“Well, I don’t know… it doesn’t look like there is very much money in there,” said Bernie doubtfully.

“Well, I will certainly make sure my father pays you handsomely when I return safely home,” said Ishcandar. “Take this as a small down payment,” he added, tossing Bernie the pouch with two silver.

“That’s a pittance, but I’ll take it for my troubles thus far,” replied Bernie, not entirely satisfied.

“I’m sure Ishcandar’s father will pay you handsomely later,” offered Lido.

“Let’s just say there’s 98 more silver where that came from,” said Ishcandar.

“Ok, that sounds good then. Let’s shake on it,” he said offering his hand. They shook hands.

At that moment Ishcandar noticed an pale blue light coming from beneath the door.

“Uh… fellows?” said Ishcandar pointing to the crack at the bottom of the door. They all stared at the pale blue glow coming through the crack at the bottom of the door. Lido thought it looked rather reminiscent of the strange blue light that they encountered in the basement room at the base of Dunn’s Bridge Tower when Doctor Lobe had been doing his bizarre experiments. He thought it did not bode well.

A breeze began to blow in the room. They noticed dust floating across floor.

“Maybe there is someone coming down the corridor with a lantern,” offered Bernie whispering. He sent his rat through a hole in the wall, and said, “He will take a look and let us know who is out there.”

After a while the rat did not return. Bernie grew nervous. He decided to go and take a look outside.

“Stay here,” he said, as he opened the door, and went out into what looked like a pale blue fog. Time went by. They waited. Bernie did not return. Lido then began to hear a voice coming from outside the door. The voice sounded terrifyingly familiar.

“There is no time left, … there is no time left, … there is no time left…” said the voice in an spine chilling tone.

“You hear that?” asked Ischandar looking around for another bottle of wine.

“Yes. I’ve heard that voice before…”

Escape From Deja Vu

Some papers began fluttering across the floor. They didn’t know where they came from. One of the papers flipped against the wall and stuck there. Ishcandar went and picked it up, as Lido backed away from the door. The paper had a picture on it. Ishcandar could not quite focus on it, but it seemed to be a page from a wall calendar. Lido noticed that there were now cobwebs on the walls billowing in the breeze. The blue light became deeper and deeper.

“I think we should probably consider leaving this room,” said Ishcandar, as he noticed Lido backing away from the door with a look of terror on his face. “Come on! You only live once!” and with that he went to the door and put his hand on the brass doorknob.

Suddenly they both found themselves having been moved, as though they just woke up from a dream. Lido was sitting at the table just pulling out his parchments and ink to draw the map, and Ishcandar was laying on the bed again, taking his first swig of the wine he’d picked up from the table with the cheese. They both felt as though they were experiencing an incredibly vivid Déjà vu. They watched powerless as they went though all the motions they had before. Ishcandar drank and babbled, while Lido made the map. The rat showed up and went under the bed, and Lido gave it the cheese. Bernie arrived and they made their escape-bargain. Everything happened exactly as before down to the minutest detail. It was increadible. And then the blue light came, and the voice… “…there is no time left, … there is no time left… there is no time left…” echoing troughout the room. And again Ischandar panicked and ran to open the door. And again, upon touching the brass doorknob they found themselves again where they had started. And this went on, over, and over, and over and over again. Ten times. A hundred times. A thousand times. And each time there was no change, and no matter how hard they tried they could not break free of the Déjà vu. And each time the terrible voice echoed, “… there is no time left…”

“This is the most wonderful thing in the world,” thought Ishcandar deep down inside. “I have more wine! An everlasting replenishing of wine! And behold! No hang over!” And so it was that every time the Déjà vu started over again, Ishcandar grew happier and happier. This was, as it turned out, Ishcandar heaven.

After a while Lido noticed that he had, through sheer repetition, studied and learned every single facet of the scene down to the minutest detail. He counted the stones on the floor. There were 365. He knew the exact configuration of the rat’s spots. He had counted the number of papers blowing, and knew their trajectories, and how many flips they made as they blew across the floor. Even the number of spider webs billowing.

It wasn’t until somewhere around the 4380th time through the Déjà vu that Lido noticed something, one single thing, which was different. As Ischandar was putting his mouth to the bottle of wine (‘a fine Chianti produced from selected grapes grown in the township of Lilac Brook. It is an elegant, well-balanced, full-bodied wine with a very long aging potential’, Ishcandar had learned though thousands of readings of the label), this time, he noticed… on the plate of fruit and cheese … there was … a fly.

Lido was absolutely certain that it had not been there before. And this gave him a sudden surge of hope to try once again, as he had done 4379 times before without the slightest hint of success, to somehow break free of the Déjà vu. This time, because of the fly, he suddenly was able to move one muscle differently, and so he twitched his left eyebrow ever so slightly as he glanced at the fly on the cheese. He suddenly felt completely liberated. And so the Déjà vu was as suddenly broke as it had begun.

Ishcandar, whose senses had been heightened earlier by a cup of Jarrow tea, noticed the fly and without a moment’s hesitation swatted it. Fruit and cheese went airborne, but the fly, a tiny little thing with shiny yellow-green chitin and black wings, flitted away and disappeared somewhere.

Lido was at first rather annoyed, as he had been considering having a bit of cheese after his map was done, but then, realizing what had happened, rose and calling Ishcandar’s name affectionately gave him a great big hug.

Lido then backed up into the middle of the room and began turning himself around to the right. He then pivoted back the other way.

“For joy!” he said, “We’re not repeating ourselves anymore!’

Ishcandar, however, stared at his furry-footed friend in disbelief. For as Lido turned himself around the first time, as far as Ishcandar could tell, Lido appeared to age… older and older until he stood there a little old Hobbit with a head of long hoary hair. As Lido turned himself back the other way, he reverted to his previous age, and when he stopped pivoting he was quite back to his old self again. Ishcandar drank heartily from his bottle, emptying it in a few large gulps.

Suddenly, a rat came into the room and skittered under the bed. Lido’s memory of the extreme Déjà vu was almost completely vanished. He could not remember any details specifically, but he did have an overall sense of what was going to happen, as did Ishcandar, who went to the door to welcome Bernie. They quickly agreed on the arrangment, to Bernie’s surprise.

“Yes, yes, I understand completely, Bernie,” Ischandar said as soon as Bernie came into the room and sat down. “I’ll give you whatever you want,” he said.

“Whatever I want?”

“Yes, yes, absolutely.”

“Ok. How about 10,000 Iron?”

“Fine, fine. Let’s shake on it and be off,” said Ishcandar reaching out to shake Bernie’s hand with his other hand having crossed fingers behind his back. It was not an easy matter to deceive the likes of Bernie, but Ishcandar managed to pull it off, and so it was that they were very quickly ready to leave. Lido and Ishcandar both wanted to get away well before the pale blue light showed up again. And so they went out into the corridor together.

Trapped Like Rats

At this point Ishcandar remembered that he was wearing the mystical ring given to him by Rothmon. He had been told that it would allow him, and Lido, who also had one, to communicate back to Rothmon for up to one minute each day though a psychic link that formed between each of the six rings. So he focused on the gemstone and felt his mind reaching outward. He felt that he was suddenly in contact with another mind, and so burbled forth all of the recent events, explaining how he and Lido had come to be trapped in the Five Animals Hall, and of their current attempt to escape.

Lido, who was wearing one of the other rings heard Ishcadnar’s thoughts clear as day coming through into his mind. However, they both noticed that Rothmon’s mind could not be contacted. It felt to them that Ishcandar’s thoughts were somehow bouncing off of the walls of the corridor’s ancient stones, and not making it to Rothmon at all. They were both quite disappointed by this, and had a sense for the first time just how trapped they really were. There was nothing else to do, then, than trust Bernie and forge ahead. They quickly took a look at Lido’s map, but Bernie already knew everything on it, and so it did not provide any assistance under the circumstances, except that it made it suddenly clear to them that the Five Animals Hall was approximately twenty feet directly below the Dunn’s Bridge Tower where they had originally seen the pale blue light. They wished to be away from there.

They spent a few minutes trying to determine the best route out. In the end Bernie advised them to follow him along the route he came in. He had slipped in through the water tunnels beneath the Five Crows Tavern into the complex on the other side of the main Hall where the white tiger statue was. They quietly crept along the corridor in the direction Bernie recommended. There were doors along the way, but they were sealed.

“How many guards are there?” asked Ischandar.

“I’m not sure. I hid when I heard them coming, but the whole prison complex has guards. We have to be as quiet as possible,” replied Bernie. “Don’t get nervous. Just follow me.”

Lido wondered how it was possible for Bernie to have come into the complex through the main Hall without being seen. He speculated that Bernie might have been able to do that if he had turned into a rat. He considered that perhaps his pet rat was in fact Bernie, but then remembered that he saw them both at the same time. A little perplexed, he nevertheless thought that somehow Bernie and his rat were one in the same person. Hard to imagine how, but he just could not quite get over that impression. In any event Bernie insisted that they would be able to escape through the White Tiger Hall if they hid in the shadows and moved silently as possible. While there were many guards in the complex, the school itself tended to be occupied only by the few students of the master. Their best chance was to go straight through the tiger’s lair. But quietly!

They turned left down the corridor and headed to the large banded wooden door that the corridor ended in. They passed several doors along the way. As they passed one of the wooden doors on their right Ishcandar heard a voice.

“Help!” cried the plaintive voice. It was a girl. She sounded quite cute.

“I say was save her,” said Ishcanar immediately.

“Help us, please! Somebody!” cried cute, but sad little voice.

Lido, who was not particularly interested in taking on additional risks, crept to the main door that lead the way out of the prison block, and listened there. He heard nothing on the other side.

“It sounds like the coast is clear,” he whispered. Bernie came up behind him and also listened. He nodded his agreement.

“What about the girl?” inquired Ishcandar, a bit puzzled by his compatriots’ attitude.

“Bernie is here to save you for quite a bit of money. I, myself, wish to escape first, and then seek help from the outside to rescue anyone within the prison. We can’t help anyone if we get caught trying to rescue others,” said Lido.

Bernie took his pet out from the sleeve of his cloak. He whispered into the rat’s ear and put him down on the ground. The rat skittered away and through a hole in the stonework.

“He’ll be back soon, and let us know if anyone is out there,” he said.

Meanwhile they decided it would be prudent to check the door for traps. Bernie, who had a lot of experience with such things, took a look.

“We just came through this door on the way in,” Lido whispered, “I don’t think it is trapped.”

“It’s trapped,” said Bernie pointing to a small wire. As it happened he was quite right. The wire was rigged to trigger some mechanism inside the wall if the lever of the door handle were moved. Fortunately, having seen the trap, Ischandar, who was trained in such things, found it relatively easy to disable. He wondered what the trap actually triggered, but there was no way to know that.

While they waited, Ishcandar went back to the door where he heard the girl’s voice.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“My name is Elizabeth. I’m here with my father. Please help us.”

“Your father is there with you?”

“Yes,” she said.

Lido came up to Ishcandar. “We are going to have enough trouble escaping, without trying to rescue an old man and a little girl.”

“We will send help as fast as we can. But for now we have to get out of here,” whispered Ishcandar through the door. They heard the girl on the other side begin to cry.

The rat returned. Bernie motioned to them that the coast was clear on the other side. Lido looked at his map.

“There is no way that Bernie got in here by going through the White Tiger Hall. He must have turned into a rat!” thought Lido to himself.

“Where are you from?” asked Ishcandar through the door.

“We’re from High Street. Your voice sounds familiar to me. Please help us,” she whispered.

“What’s your name?” asked Ishcandar.

“Warden. Elizabeth Warden. My father is John Warden. I think we met on High Street not long ago. Please help us!”

“Bernie. Can you check for traps on this door?” asked Ischandar.

“No. I’m here to rescue you. I’m not taking any chances,” answered Bernie.

“Well then, maybe you can go on your own way then,” replied Ishcandar, now determined to rescue the girl.

Return of the Déjà vu

“Ok. Fine. I’ll check it. But this better not cause us any problems!" he hissed. He checked for traps, but found none. Ischandar decided to pick the lock, and took out his tools to do so. As soon as he touched the door handle, however, a bell suddenly began ringing loudly. A door at the far end of the corridor suddenly flung open with a thud. Inside they saw the silhouettes of several large hulking figures. Behind them several flames belched upward in orange billows silhouetting the enormous men rushing through the doorway with spiked clubs in their meaty hands. Several large red toads with dimly glowing yellow eyes and long yellow fangs hopped out of the room, each one belching fire as it came.

“Uhm… sorry, Miss! But we gotta get out of here! We’ll come back for you later!” shouted Ischandar as he ran back toward the exit door. Lido watched with horror as three huge men came charging down the corridor bellowing loudly. He realized suddenly as they came into the light that they were the same muliti-eyed men that Ishcandar and he had encountered down in the dungeon just before the students of Five Animals Hall had captured them. The master, if he remembered correctly, called the creatures, Polyvizus. Each of them had twelve eyes wrapped around his head, and bellowed like mad bulls. It was not comforting to have them charging with heavy studded clubs in their hands towards the mushy little Hobbits.

“Bernie!… time to get out of here…” Lido shouted as he edged backwards. Bernie was crouching over the handle of the door and with a final flick of his tools opened the lock. He rubbed his finger nails against his chest and smiled smugly.

“Let’s go,” he said. They ran though the door. Ishcandar closed it behind them and locked it. There were heavy thuds against the door as the Hobbits and Bernie turned to the right and came to the next door. There was a soft blue light emanating beneath the doorframe.

“…there’s no time left, … there’s no time left… there’s no time left…” echoed endlessly through the corridor

Bernie stopped at the door.

"There is someone with a blue lantern coming," he whispered.

“No, it’s magical light,” said Lido. "For heaven's sake, ignore it!"

“Oh great,” said Bernie, not entirely disbelieving that. He’d seen plenty of strange things in his short years, and magic was something he'd come to at least partially believe in. He reached for the doorknob. Touching it Ishcandar and Lido suddenly found themselves back in the prison room. Lido was pulling out his parchment and ink, and Ishcandar took his first sip of wine as he reclined easily on the bed.

"Ah," thought Ishcandar, "I have returned to Paradise!"

Over and over and over again for thousands upon thousands of times they repeated every single thing exactly as before. The Déjà vu was unquenchable in its ferocity. The madness resulting from seeing the same events play out thousands upon thousands of times took a strange toll on them both. Everything was exactly the same each time. Even the swatting of the fly, and escaping the first round of Déjà vu lost all sense of victory as they were entirely engulfed in the second round, over and over and over again endlessly. And all the while, “… there’s no time left, … there’s no time left, … there’s no time left…” echoed with sinister abandon throughout their souls. All the way up to the moment when Ischandar went to put his finger gingerly on the girl’s door to try to help her escape in the 52560th cycle. For the first time then he noticed that on the door handle there was … a tiny yellow fly with black wings.

“Thwap!” Ishcandar struck at the fly with his hand. Suddenly the time loop was broken! And so they escaped the Déjà vu’s deadly clutches once again. The little yellow fly buzzed away and vanished into the shadows, laughing with delight.



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