Posted by AlOmega on June 30, 2004 at 15:01:33:
The old man, who mostly went by the name of Olly, kept his experiments tightly bound up within his brain. Wouldn’t do to let anyone in on his little secrets, now would it. Long ago he had developed wands for directing magical energies. There were triggering mechanism which included words and gestures but the reality of it was that the thought was what directed the magic. Nor could just any witch or wizard cast a particular spell – especially if young and untrained. Right now there weren’t very many magically talented people in the world but as the population expanded, that would change.
The wand-idea had come from a casual conversation with someone else – though who that ‘someone else’ was, he never discovered. Nor could he remember the stranger afterward. The stranger had suggested using hairs or feathers or something taken from magical creatures such as unicorns or elves. With that suggestion, the old man began testing various combinations of woods and hairs and had finally come up with a wand that could be used to direct one’s magical gift into spells. It was while he was doing these experiments that he met Godfrey. The man, Godfrey, possessed a different type of wand than Olly had been experimenting with. Nor had he heard of lightning bolts being created with magic. However, Godfrey’s magic did open other avenues for exploration besides the earth magic – the magic most commonly in use.
Some time had passes since he had perfected his wands. So he was quite surprised to see the stranger once again. Looking hard at him, the old man failed to see anything remarkable. However, curiosity reared its head so much so that he actually asked the stranger for his name.
“By the by, who are you, stranger?” asked the old man after giving him a cup of water as a hospitality gesture.
The stranger stroked his chin before replying. “Some might call me Tom Bobadill, or Petrus Umongous, or even Harry Copperpot – though none of those names mean me. I’ve been known by many names. I’m mostly called Walker cause of my travels from one place to the other. I’ve been around a long time or maybe it’s short. Depends on how often you see me – or don’t. It doesn’t matter which.
“But I know you, Vander, and that’s enough.”
“What brings you here then, Walker.”
“Something old, something new. I see you’ve begun with the wands and have even sold a few. Are their more witches and wizards?”
Vander nodded. “Ever since that Godfrey got here, magic has blossomed in every village hereabouts.”
Walker smiled, “Expected to be so. But that’s not why I’m here. I want to show you something.” And so saying, Walker drew forth a small broom with a knot on the end.
“I’ve seen those. Most people use ‘em to sweep out the ashes from their fireplaces.”
“Too true,” added Walker with a broad grin as he sat with his legs crossed. “There is a strange oldie tune that goes with this. It goes like this…..”
“Aint never heard that one.”
“Not surprised. But it’ll be popular even around here some day,” again that quizzical smile played around Walker’s eyes as if he had a secret that few could share. “What I’m going to suggest is that you take this broom and alter it enough so that a witch or wizard can actually straddle it. There are Will ‘O the Wisps in that swamp near here. Capture a few and place them in the straw and perhaps - perhaps it is possible that the witch or wizard astride the broom could actually control it enough to fly.”
With that, Walker easily rose from his cross-legged position adding, “No need to show me out, Vander. I still have miles to cross before this day is done.”
And with that, he left. Olly went to follow him out but he was no where to be found. It was as if Walker had vanished. Moreover as he began experimenting with brooms, he forgot that Walker had ever been around.
“Someone just attempted a major Transcordial Missive Bubble which bears some resemblance to a Cressways link, Lor’T’An. Plard and Lou-San have yet to return so I’m suggesting you take Garnst and travel to Caledonia V in the Spica System of Galaxy LT33 in the Formax Sector,” said a three hundred pound mass of protoplasm with the funny name of Counselor.
“And not friend Topea, Slazzaro, the Twins or Fetz’Puchia? They would be excellent friends to add to our team,” said a giant of a man cowled and covered from head to foot in very dark red velvet.
“No. Nor should you add any of the others. Garnst will be needed for settlement of the issues that you will encounter. And you most particularly will be needed because of your size and other Talents. Since the location is relatively nearby, you can take one of the standard starships. One stands ready.”
“As you wish, Lord Counselor,” And without a word, the tall alien departed.
~I wish you well,~ thought Counselor before returning to his links with Librarian.
Viconia for once was feeling comfortable. To be sure, there were ongoing a number of conflicts between the Lesser Houses and House Dortianjalo had actually disappear. Her own interests in Zaltor had progressed at a pace normal for Hazzabreaniem. But then such things took time and it wasn’t as if any Drow would die from old age. Drow were extremely long lived. A few, through sheer astuteness, had lived well over a thousand human years. Most, of course, didn’t because either they died during House Wars or died when conducting lucrative explorations for slaves and other things on the surface.
However for Viconia, certain events were coming that should lead to either her overcoming Zaltor or her own death. She would have to do this soon because she would be showing soon. Funny, she thought, that it wasn’t any of her lovers who lived. It was the mage-lover she had killed a little over an hour later. She smiled remembering his surprise when her twin scimitars had lopped of his head.
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“It happened maybe a year ago,” started Karin. “We were minding our own business when Fredrik encountered a giant. Giants are not so bright but they had been very quiet until then. They live in a high valley just east of our village.
“But it was about two weeks ago that one of them ventured down near our pasturelands asking if we knew any magic users. Oh, we have a few druids but they could only charm the occasional troll that would wonder into our camps and villages. Trolls aren‘t giants though and for that we needed something more powerful.”
“Uh, I never heard of any ‘giants’ except Mad Mongo who’s just under seven feet,” said Merlin. “Bout the only thing he’s good for is lighting fires easily when he eats too many beans.”
The rest laughed for several minutes. It was an ongoing joke around the villages about the ‘magic’ of Mongo.
“Oh, no. we have real giants maybe sixteen or seventeen feet tall they are. And they had problems themselves with the dragons.”
“No, no, no, that’s only part of it. Dadya was who got us in trouble with the dragons,” Jenny chimed in. “The giants wouldn’t have had troubles with the dragons if Dadya hadn’t talked to the dragons.”
“Coulda, shoulda, didn’t. She it was who talked with the were wolves down by Sadja’s old place. It was those three that told her about the dragons.”
“Now that I think on it, Dadya was the one,” Karin agreed. “Think she’s related to one of them. Called herself Dadya Octobrina Smetlana Dobranovski. Could never pronounce all that so we all call her Dadya.”
“So what’s this all about?” interrupted Godfrey who could see another argument brewing.
“It’s about the dragons and giants and how they have to live with one another because they share the same valley next to Nannock’s Fiord. Leastwise that’s what we got from the werewolves. Nice fellows when there’s no full moon. Seems there’s some magic that neither the dragons nor giants can handle. Dadya went to chat a bit to settle things out. But something happened,” Jenny said.
“’Something’ is right,” interrupted Karin. “She got held back to be a hostage for when we can come up to get some knowledgeable magic people. We’re not and you are so you’re it. And if you don‘t help, the village will be destroyed because one of the werewolves is Dadya‘s brother and he‘s sworn that if she doesn‘t get freed, he‘s gonna take his friends and gobble us up. He also said it had something to do with a red outfit she‘d made though I don‘t know what that means.”
“So,” followed Jenny, “Do you think you can help us?”
The party conferred among themselves before agreeing.
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The long, narrow workroom was lit by three crystal light-torches, their radiance far brighter than that of conventional torches. A woman seemingly only fifteen but numbering over a hundred summers moved as another woman spoke.
“Marel, what do you think…”
Marel fingered a silver loop on her belt before turning to her lieutenant. “Nebul, you know what to do. We’ve found so few witches - only one or two within the last twenty years. I’m not so sure we can keep control over the thralls. And I sense something else.”
“What, Marel? Is it a threat?”
“It’s not clear at the moment. However I regret that we ever enchanted those two dragons and those giants. But without them, we would have perished long ago. We needed the power they provided. Plus we need the terror they pose to Outsiders. You and I are the only ones who remember finding the Crystal. And we were also the ones who enslaved It. Now though we control It, I’ve come to believe that It controls us. What I worry about most is that some wizard will come who is powerful enough to wrest It from us. We have forty witches here in this complex and wards at every entrance. We have never had a male get by those.
“None that have lived anyway.”
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Betea was humming a tune she’d just made up. She knew it might irritate Lou-San which might have been why she did it. One might wonder how a spacecraft - even one with a personality - would find amusement in anything let alone any particular thing. Betea could never have explained. But even if she could, she would never explain if she wasn’t forced to. That was her way even if she was mostly biomechanical.
Plard was viewing the last readouts. Betea could have given him everything and more than what he would ever want. Her data gathering was for Librarian but she always shared with Plard. But because they were traveling in space and time, and Plard was separated from Lou-San, he failed to see Lou-San disappear as if she was never there.
However, Betea recorded all and knew at once that something serious had just happened. When Plard was informed, he asked about halting their travel knowing even if they could, they would never find Lou-San. They had no choice but to return to Counselor whereupon a search in space and time would be launched. His links with her were still active wherever she was. His only hopefulness lie with his feelings that Lou-San was still alive and well - and also extremely angry. Whatever else happened, she would be angry. Moreover if she ever found the culprit responsible, she’d strip him with fang and claw.
But her destiny when she arrived would surprise even her.
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It took several months for Viconia to set the traps that took away all of Zaltor’s options. It was the last that brought her vengeance to a close…..
The entity caught Viconia by surprise - a demon. Now what was she to do? Reaching inside her cloak she brought forth a scroll - one of many she had managed to garner. The demon spread out into a low, squirming red and yellow mass. A bolt missed her but not by much as she finished reading the scroll. She threw a blade at the demon; but, though it vanished for an instant inside of it, the demon dilated and spat out the offending sword. The weapon retained its shape but rippled with shifting colors just as the demon did, and she couldn’t feel it with her mind.
She backed away, the blade followed, and, rattling and growling, the demon brought up the rear. Her sword had turned against her. Sweeping back and forth, up and down, while she ducked and dodged, barely kept her alive. So far she was evading it, but it hampered and hurt her simply by being near. Her mail turned to moss ad crumbled away. Her flesh throbbed with sudden pain as the demon’s power sought to transform it. One leg turned numb and immobile for a second and she nearly fell. Itchy scales grew on her skin then faded away. Her eyes ached, the world blurred to black, white, and gray, and the colors exploded back into view. Her identity itself was in flux. For one instant, she thought the thoughts and felt the soft, alien emotions of an arthritic human seamstress dwelling somewhere in the world above.
Somehow, despite all such disconcerting phenomena, she managed to read the spell on the scroll and avoid the radiant blade at the same time.
Bright, intricate harmonies sang from the empty air. A field of bluish phosphorescence sprang up around her. Within it, she could make out intangible geometric forms revolving around one another in complex symmetrical patterns.
The cool radiance expressed the power of order, of law, the antithesis of chaos. The sword that had become an extension of the demon’s will froze inside it like an insect in amber - and the demon was equally still. The creature began hitching ever so slightly forward, working itself loose from the restricting magic.
Viconia was essentially a creature of chaos as well, but mortal and native to the material plane, and thus the spell had no power over her. She wheeled and dashed toward a female drow filling her crossbow again with another dart. She thrust her now-obedient blade into the female drow’s bowels. As the vale of darkness left her face, she found herself looking at the staring blank eyes of her enemy, Zaltor. Viconia was surprised that she had had the good sense to remove all that gaudy, clinking jewelry that she normally wore before attemptin to attack by surprise.
But though her enemy was dead, this demon was more powerful than anything that Zaltor could have devised by magic. Viconia stooped to puck up the crossbow and the quiver containing the rest of the enchanted quarrels. The quarrels were better than the ones she had but the crossbow wasn’t so she discarded the offending weapon. She moved warily as a giant arachnid moved toward her. However the hairy spider paid her no attention but went to the corpse whereupon it began to feed.
She turned, laid a dart in the channel of her own weapon, and shot. When the shaft hit it, the demon shuddered in its nearly immobile form, but didn’t die. She kept shooting as fast as her enchanted weapon would allow. The demon inched toward her like so much half-cooled magma.
Four bolts, left, then three. She pulled the trigger, the dart struck the demon in the middle of its horned, triangular head, and it winked out of existence as she quaffed a healing draught.
She could still hear its voice, but she knew that was just because it had shrieked so long and loudly. But it was what the demon shrieked at the last that cause her grave concern. Two names it had uttered, “Pharaun” and “Zoathan”.
The pain shot through her abdomen as if fire burned within. It wasn’t from anything the demon nor Zaltor had done. It had to be the baby. She managed to stagger toward her own quarters calling out to any of her servants that might be around. Caldrin got to her first and helped her to bed before going for help.
Within an hour, she was blessed with a pretty little girl with golden eyes. Viconia took one look at her and named the child, Belinda.
Suddenly from out of a hole next to her, hands reached out and took the wiggling bit of a babe into the darkness. The hole closed just as rapidly as it had appeared.
Viconia was startled that anything could have done this. Normally, like her mother before her, she would have sent her to a wet nurse before deciding on where she would be placed for her upbringing. What was she to do now? Apparently she had done something to displease the Matron Mother, Zoathan. What was she to do now?
It didn’t take long for Viconia to decide that even her own quarters might prove unsafe. Thus it was that she secured food, weapons, and other needful things and transported them and herself to a secret group of rooms within the slums of Hazzabreaniem.
As they landed on the northern coast in a place that would someday be known as Scandinavia, they were met by nearly the entire village of Fen Sway. Though from another land, the party of witches and wizards had little problem understanding their language. Probably that was because at this juncture in time, they shared a common tongue based solely on Celtic. As with most such things, everyone was invited to share in a feast previously prepared.
“But how on Earth did you know we were coming?” asked Rikard.
“Because of our other guests,” said Tellus, the village elder.
“And why haven’t we met them?” queried Lizza.
“Because they have been negotiating with the dragons and giants.”
“However, we have returned,” added a low, voluminous voice. They all turned at this and saw a giant of a man possibly over seven feet in height dressed entirely in black robes with a cowl hiding most of his face in shadow. Beside him stood his direct opposite – a man no more than five foot wearing white garments that seemed to shift in the sunlight as if they had a life of their own.
“We talked well, did we and found a common problem where within lies a solution”, said the much smaller man – or boy if one looked at his features. Unclear are the whys and wherefores and the means.”
“Please, Little One. We should mention what we are and are about.”
“But not too much or lost will we be.”
“Sorry, ladies, gentlemen. My name is Lor’T’An. If you wish, you may call me Lor. My friend and companion is Garenst. We come from a far away land. Something has happened recently…”
“..Or will happen,” interrupted Garenst.
“Or will happen soon,” Lor’T’An gave a nod to Garenst, “that has caught our attention. You may call it a major magical event. It is one we’ve encountered before, however.”
“No, no. We know but the magic of this is not meant to be or must not be.”
The party as well as the villagers were very puzzled with this exchange – not surprising since Garnest spoke in circumlocutions fairly often.
Godfrey finally asked the question, “Perhaps if you tell us what you’ve been doing and the events leading to this, we could understand what’s going on and perhaps ascertain why we’ve been brought here in the first place. I was under the impression that this was a call for witches and wizards which – though you look like us in a way – wizards you aren’t.”
“True,” said Lor’T’An sitting down cross legged. “Perhaps from the beginning then – or as much of the beginning as is feasible or needful to know……
“It began when we felt the call to come to this land. Upon arrival we found a confused village with the possibilities of the incursion of werewolves, giants, and dragons. Garenst and I speak dragon-speech as well as giantish. We were able to establish that several of the giants – male and female – had been abducted by some magical means. Two dragons likewise fell under the sway of this magic. Further probing disclosed that a sister of one of the werewolves had been kidnapped as well. At first we thought it was by the dragons or giants. Later we discovered she was abducted by another village. They also had been threatened by the giants.”
“Giants,” interrupted Garenst, “are very stupid-smart and blunt-fisted. But giants not foolish be though stubborn more than even dragons.”
“Garnest, please,” said Lor’T’An. “We managed to speak with the other villagers and secured the release of someone called Dadya, however, currently she is under the restraints of the giants and there she will remain until we secure the release of the other giants. We know the area where this ‘magic’ (for want of a better word) resides; however, neither of us can enter the outer boundaries without detection. Garenst is very capable, however, we need at least two others to transit the barrier, discern, and disable the magical problem. Success in this venture will assist in mending the partitioning that has opened a gap between giants, humans, and dragons. Garenst cannot do this alone, however. His Talents lie elsewhere primarily in the guidance and enhancements of the Talents - yea, the magic - of others. I would suggest two of the wizards or witches at least accompany him.”
“Three do well, four is best, say I,” Garenst said in a high pitched voice. “One is not here yet Cancun and Vicky and Lizza three are. But a concern I feel. I know. There must be one other and know I….”
Lou-San took that moment to appear out of nothingness just as Garenst added, “…and four be we plus me five makes free.”
Lou-San shook herself anger burning fire arrows from her eyes.
“You two. Dam, I need an explanation. Where in the five abysses of Scheol ARE WE,” she demanded.
“You are here; we are here. Both are needed,” calmly declared Garenst. “Reason must be for you to be for two that are we thought Plard and Thee were within Betea and free.”
“None of your riddles, you twerp. Why am I here? Why?!” she demanded.
“The knowing will be when the knowing is known. But now is not to know but when we obtain the knowledge you will know all.”
“Yeah, right. So, I got ‘called’ but none of you did it. I suppose I’ll have to go along. So what’s the pitch? Where are we going?”
“Dragons and giants to free we be. And more I think for magic is here. But how you came I know not nor who brought you except you must be here for reasons unclear.”
“Alright, already. Let’s get a move on. Oh, BTW is there any way to tell Plard that I’m with you?”
“He will know when we return. Patience is a virtue so patient be.”
The arrival of Lou-San seemed to nudge something in Godfrey’s memories - something to do with a person called, Capper. However, he dismissed that thought almost instantly as the five set out for parts unknown.
AlOmega