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Mage Light:Bosto MaGuffy

It was a cold and starry night, too cold maybe; and the trail ahead showed no promise of any warm shelter.

"Look, there," he whispered to the anxious young faces huddled about him on thetrail, "notice the shimmering on the horizon... how the stars sort of 'bounce', butonly in that one spot."He had been doing this for too many years, he thought to himself. It had been solong since any apprentice noticed the shimmering on their own and pointed it outthat the old trail five miles back was getting completely grown over.The girl, errrr, young lady, of the group piped up: "Is that something, really? Isaw that a few miles back... near that old overgrown trail past the last hill. Ithought we would be looking for something, ahh, more, ahhhhh, spectacular.""What old trail?!" the rest of the trio squawked."Why, Lauren" the old master chuckled as he poked her in the ribs, "how kind of

you to notice! It's not like everything has to jump out and bite you to be worthnoticing. Keep in mind, diamonds are usually pretty small; but well worthnoticing."Suddenly a low rumbling could be heard in the distance, and yet the sky wasclear. "Take note of that now," he hissed through his clenched teeth, his headlowered and shaking slightly from side to side, "remember those adventurers wesaw on the road three days ago. That sound was the passing of their spirits, andthe same may happen to you if you miss spotting the diamonds, or spot the wrongones."They walked quietly, and a bit sullenly, into the wilderness tract toward thedistant horizon.Over the days that passed the shimmering on the horizon danced with the stars onthe clear nights, but was invisible through clouds or sun during the day. It wasnear dawn on the fourth morning and he lined up the six bright eyes on thecrackling line in the grass before them, "Remember, at EXACTLY dawn, thecrackling will stop for just an instant! Jump over the line at that moment, or stayhere! If you miss the time, you will become one of those dark burnt rings, likethere, and there..." The ground about them was littered with the black smudges,and it seemed he had their attention. They knew this test was important, but notuntil now did the full weight of the trial sink in. The sun's first ray snapped over the horizon and a loud crack resounded. The master leapt, as always, and Laurensnapped a heart-beat behind him. Dirk jumped so hard he launched into the air and Lem froze mid-air. The air resounded again, Dirk howled in pain as his greatleap tumbled him headlong into a tuft of grass. Lem, not thinking as usual, of hisactions or his deeds, fried like the dew in the blast of the rising sun's rays. His

pack, right arm, shoulder and head tumbled into Lauren. She closed her eyes.Dirk was flopping around on the ground like a wounded seal, so the master waveda meaty hand, freezing him on the spot.He grabbed the tumbled pack then sprinkled a fine dust from his pouch on theremains of Lem. With a clap, the remains vanished. He walked to Dirk, with

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Lauren in tow. "Lauren, do Dirk!" he bellowed. She trembled before the frozenform, her eyes bulging at the spot where black soot stained the leaves. "Now,Lauren!" She broke her hestitation and turned to the frozen form assessing thedamage, "Minor bruises, a cut here, OH, this isn't good, a stick or something stuck in his leg ... Hmmmmm" "Look closer dear" "Ohhh, oh ick, it's a bone, I think, a

broken femur maybe... not his though, someone, or, something else's, just jammedin there real good. He's the one with the healing spells, though, all I can do isyank it out and patch him up 'till he can fix it himself... right?" "Lauren, you knowthe rules, I can't do anything for you, all I can do is clean up the messes." "OK,I'll do it..." Lauren took a good grip on the bleached bone, and with a few goodtwists, pulled the shaft from Dirk's leg. "Sorry Dirk." she whispered. She knewDirk was frozen, in time yes, but well aware and feeling, just not moving or saying anything, but in a few moments...She bound the leg with emergency supplies, more than they intended to use in theentire trip, let alone on just one injury. They backed off a bit, and the master onceagain waved his hand. Dirk flipped about in fast forward, as his time rushed

ahead to match that around him again. His piercing scream echoed. "ONE twist, just one twist would have been enough... you did that on purpose Lauren!*&^%$##! this hurts..." as he busily fussed in his pack. He withdrew a bottle of light yellow ooze and soaked the bandages, then downed the rest. "I knew Ishould have brought the loose spells. Just like that dits Lem to fry our book!"Lauren gazed again at the stain, ah stains, trying to remember which one wasLem. Dirk hefted the bone, giving it a spiteful glare. "Rannus. Remember him?Two years ago. Big guy. Should have been a fighter instead of a ... well, not thathe turned out to be one anyway." mused the master. The face of recognition

passed over Dirk, and gently he placed the bone on the ground. Lauren carefully picked it up and poked it into the ground by one of the many dark stains. Themaster ever so slightly waved his head back and forth. He knew the name of eachstain he recognized. She poked it into another. Again. Again. Again. Finally,she threw it at the tuft of grass where it came from, "Ass hole", she muttered. Themaster produced one of those knowing little smirks as he moved toward the oldtrail.Dirk wasn't moving too fast, and he dropped behind often as they wove hither andfroe through the tangled shrubs and bent little trees following what was supposedto be a trail. Lauren was paced somewhat behind the master, her mind wanderingwith the bends in the trail. A sudden scream pierced the forest, and Lauren spunto see a shiny blade protruding through Dirk. His face was twisted in agony, andshe could make out the leather armor and shield behind him, all blackened andstained. Without a thought or hesitation she thrust her arm forward as her lipsspoke the words she had practiced so often. A bolt raced from her finger, oops,through Dirk, and flashed the form behind Dirk into a pillar of flame. For longseconds a flaming duet sang in the forest, then crumpled to a heap, smouldering."Sometimes it just doesn't pay to get out of bed." he praised as he patted her shoulder while walking toward the heap. "I'm sorry.... I ahhhhh, I didn't mean todo that.... really, I .... ohhhhhhhh." she quivered. The master pulled the swordfrom Dirk, scooped his pack and purse, and poked into the remains of the

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stranger. He pulled a few things from the stranger's still smoking pack, a dagger from his belt and a small bag that had been slung under his arm. He walked to thetrembling form of Lauren and unceremoniously dumped the loot at her feet, Dirk's

pack and all. "Your's." he said. She burst into tears. He ambled back down thetrail, off again in the direction they were heading. She wailed, "But..., But...",

pointing at the carnage. He pointed up. The ravens were already circling, waitingfor peace and quiet, and their dinner. He spun three tiny circles with his littlefinger and muttered a dozen words: a shimmery force sprung up behind him,

barely noticable. He muttered, "Good, maybe too damn good, and faaassttt by thegods, too fast for sure. I'll be keeping a shield on my ass for sure." And shenoticed. Hurt, feeling the distrust, but proud, and a little something else too.

(Two grizzled old men sit at a small round table at an outdoor cafe in Edgetown,the university suburb of Mage Center.)

"Yah know Bostamus, I've had some pretty hairy times on the road. Remember

when you and me was stuck in them damn Crypts of Heldorne? but this tale ... bythe gods, has 'em beat fer shur. I've never heard before of yoos bein' scared ahnothin', let alone somethin' like that! There's jus gots to be more than whats yer tellin' me so far...""Well, Tigor, you have a good point there, besides the one on your big dwarf head..."

The two slumped down at the trail's edge and stared at each other, master atstudent, student at master. "Much further?" "If it was easy, missy, we'd be up toour wahzoo in deadbeats, neophytes and treasure hunters around here. And asyou've seen so far, it ain't. Another two weeks, maybe three, if we walk hard...and stay alive." "I'd swear we've been near here before... are you sure this isn'tanother test and I'm supposed to notice or something? It's not like we've beenhere before, but like we were over there." she said pointing through the bushes."No, nothing like that at all. We'll camp here tonight. You can get some firewood on that side of the trail. Just that side now! Never cross the trail, it's ahhhh,

bad luck!" Lauren hefted the shining sword that was tied to her pack. "Annnnd ...if you're going to use that thing, don't swing at anything but dead wood!! You'resupposed to be a mage, not some damn meat-headed fighter!!!" The old fuss pot,she thought to herself; if I have to carry this damn thing, I might as well get someuse out of it. I damn near ripped off a finger yesterday pulling on these lousylittle bushes to get firewood. She spun the sword over her head. Its not like I'venever seen this done you know; I might even make a fair dent in somebody withone of these things. She remembered all too well what this weapon could do,after all it was hardly a week ago that Dirk had its gleeming length thrust throughhis middle. She wandered, and hacked and thrust and pried, and finally got anarm full of wood. She returned to camp, and the master had arranged a set of stones in a tight little circle, and laid out the fixings for another trail meal. Shecringed. She dumped the load, unceremoniously, near his feet. He jumped boltupright as a small snake was dislodged from the wood as it hit the ground.

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Without so much as a heartbeat's passing, she swung the blade in a light anddelicate arch. "NOOOooooo !!!" And the blade neatly cleaved the snake in two."You shouldn't have done that, Lauren. This is really going to mess things aboutnow." "I'm sorry, I didn't even think, it's only a snake ... after all ... You're the onewho jumped like that!" Lauren, eyes filling with tears, stepped back. She flung

the blade at the ground, cursing, swearing, kicking little tufts of dust into the air,and generally working up a pretty good hissy-fit. Bostamus, the master, had seenthis sort of thing before. The emotions piling up and blowing out in all directions.His shimmering shield of energy, ever so subtly, took form around him. "Its time,no doubt, we've been on the road too many days, and with the young ladies, itrears its ugly head when you least want it to." he nearly whispered. He glancedover at her, and she was fixed; staring, no, more hatefully glaring, stiff and withfists balled at her sides, right at him. "Now, that look I've seen many times

before!" he bellowed, wagging his finger at her, "Annnnnnd, I paid dearly todivorce it!! So I'll have none of it during this test ... DO YOU HEAR!!" Shestarted taking small, stiff steps toward him. "NONE ... NOW ... STOP I SAY!!!"

He backed across the trail with each word. He knew two or three days from now,she would deny all this, and use those fawn like eyes to melt his heart once again.But for right now, it was time to run! He bolted into the underbrush across thetrail listening to her growls and curses as she ran hot after him. She tore throughthe bushes, a wild look, dirty stains in little rivers across her face. With asuddeness he realized what he had done, just a second too late. The air clappedabout him. She watched, as ahead of her, the master slammed head on into ashimmery wall of force. His momentum, and luckily for him, his newly erectedshield, carried him through the force wall, only somewhat disheveled, and a littleon fire. He frantically flipped and flopped, tossing great handfuls of dirt andyelling the most foul litany imaginable. Across the shimmering gap, she stood,mouth hung open, watching him tear off his smoldering rags, once fine robes, and

pinch out the smoldering and smoking clumps of hair that remained on his body.He looked at her, pointed his finger, and bellowed, "NOW, see what you'vedone!!" She watched his lips move, the finger wag, and one last curl of smokewisp up from between his legs. The surprise etched his face as his arms arched toswat the source of the smoke. He doubled over, eyes bulging, staring at Lauren,as he dropped to ground. Slowly Lauren started to convulse, from her stomachthe laughter spread throughout her body until she was totally encompassed inmirth. Bostamus glared at her from his crumpled position, and then started tosmile, then chuckle. Within moments, they were both into knee slappinguproarious laughter, hearing only the sounds they each made, as the wall stoppedeven sound from passing.Some time later, they sat across from each other separated by the shimmeringwall, sweaty, dirty, one somewhat crisp in spots, using the litany of mage's handsigns to communicate across the boundary.

The sun was edging its way over the horizon, and the first of the twin moons wasmaking it's way into the realms of early night. They sat, tired, dejected, andalone, each on their own side of the barrier.

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It just isn't like Keldorion, using the Mage's Litany of Signs. Hand gestures thatwere designed to confer the essence of magic spells, direct the forces of natureand curse the errant wagon driver, couldn't convey the subtle thoughts (unlikeourselves, who get an english Telepathic Multiparallel Transductive Translation).Lauren was sure she was to return to the camp and wait for him; or lasso a fish

and stick a green banana into its ear, she wasn't exactly sure which, though. Shehefted the sword over her shoulder and headed for the campsite on the trail. Sheglanced back once, just in time to see Bostamus' bare butt head off into thewilderness on the other side. She didn't get a damn bit of why he had to gosomewhere or other, but she did nod a lot so he would quit trying to signsomething she couldnt understand. Litany never was her strength, although, shewould dearly like to remember a bit more of it right now. Bostamus wasabsolutely, positively, without-a-doubt sure she was going to learn some moreLitany, even if it killed her; which wasn't completely out of the question, seeingas the only thing he was wearing was a smile as he thought of at least 12 goodspells that could accomplish the job. Talk about a draft up your tunic, and night

coming on too.Three days later, Lauren was getting down right nervous. Bostamus was no wherein sight, although she wasn't sure of whether he signed an hour, a day, a week or amonth; or until the banana'd fish rotted. She had been whiling away the time

practicing with the sword, and getting quite good at the basics, she thought. Allthose long hours oggling at those muscle bound doofusses in the arena had paidoff for something after all. Then the noises started that night.

By the eighth night Lauren was a nervous wreck. She was tired, itchy (it seemsthe trail flees had found her, finally) and the scratching and scruffling in thewoods by the trail at moons down was driving her crazy. She couldn't get a goodlock on anything, and without a target, her arsenal of magic spells was nearlyuseless. Or worse, down right dangerous, especially if a spell were to reverse onher. She sat more and more often with the sword in her hands, and she knew thatshe couldn't use any magic at all if she were touching it at the same time.By the eleventh day, dark shapes were looming at the fires edge right up tosunrise. She knew the beasts would eventually work up the nerve to charge her,or stay on until full light; and she wasn't quite sure which she thought might beworse, but now she was afraid to sleep at night, or during the day. About noon,she was working a small water spell, and heard light shuffling steps on the path."About time you old geezer!!" she bellowed, eyes lit up and a big smile on her face.

The robed figure was walking slumped over and tired, with a half-rotted face and bony arms. She bolted up straight, stopping dead in her tracks. The fear froze her solid, as they eyed each other; her, with panic ridden bulging eyes; it, with deepempty sockets, burning red embers deep within. It cast a volley of evil, trying torot her flesh and blind her. She ducked aside, hands flailing, trying desperately toknock off the one spot where she'd been hit. She could feel the burning, the flesh

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putrefying right on her. She raised her hand, angry, burning, deathly angry, tocast her damnedest fry your ass evil monster spell; and was jerked off balance asthe sword instantly appeared in her hand. "OHHHHHHH SHHIIIIIITTTTTT!!!",she screamed.She had heard the stories, but never dreamed, never in her worse nightmare, NO

wonder he bellowed about the snake ... She tried to remember if there wasanything in the tirade of litany about this cursed sword ... and the creature, if itcould smile - would have, as it crept ever closer.

Lauren did a little hop and shuffle dance for the benefit of her evil audience,trying desperately to maintain her balance. A little spin, thanks to an inadvertent

placement of toe under exposed root, and she gracefully flopped full-face into thefilthy trail. She wouldn't even realize how deliberate her moves looked in her opponents eyes as its volley of evil spells glanced past her spinning and weaving

body. The trees and bushes behind her burst into dazzling arrays of black flame.Suddenly, before its eyes, or more precisely its glowing red sockets, she

disappeared. Lauren lay there, paralyzed with fear. She was ready to acceptdeath, but this was not the end she expected; a blaze of magic in a glorious battlefor some king, perhaps; or in the backlash of some great failed experiment: but todie face down in the dirt, at the evil boney hands of some disgusting minor creature, was more than she could admit to right now. The beast walked past her,sniffing the air and prodding the way in front of itself. Right past her! She couldhear its steps. She slowly raised her head, and through the filth and tangled hair could see its back some five paces away. Without a heart's beat hesitation, shesprang to her feet; sword raised high, paced in leaps, and brought her strongestswing to bare down on the thing's skull. The blade rang and seared, bright flamessprang from the cut that ran the full length of the creature. It toppled over in two,and a wild surge of power ran the blade's length and poured into her body. Her hair crackled with the energy, and she howled with the purity and power of victory, a maneuver well made and executed.

The sound of four hands clapping, albeit two a little on the small and furry side, broke the moment. She spun to face two men, well one man and what wasobviously the first halfling she had ever seen. With a flourish, the tall humanswept his hat and bowed, "A fine move, m'lady, fine indeed. It was an honour to

bare witness to such a fine deed." The halfling was busily examining the remains,and eyeing over the little campsite. "I am Tripper, a ranger and fellowadventurer; and this here is Isyll Pinchet, a renoun assassin and good friend." "Iam NOT!!! AN ASSASSIN! you lanky excuse for a sissyfied fighter! I AM ATHIEF, YES, but not an assassin! Isyll Pinchet, m'lady, at your service,

businessman of Frier's Knoll." "Oh, so sorry my devout friend! I had no intentionto insult you, please accept my most humble apologies. As you see m'lady, its theonly way to get him to admit what he is, or he'll bore you to tears with that "I'm a

businessman" drivel." "And you, m'lady?" "Oh, ahhh, oh, sorry, I'm Lauren, ah,errrrrr, ah, mage, 4th level, or at least hope to be soon ..." "OHHHH then, wemight expect to see old Bostamus about here looking on then," squeaked Isyll.

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"Dufus," said Tripper, pointing at Lauren, "Doesn't this sight seem a bit odd for one of ole' Bostamus's students?" "Huh?" "The sword you twit, ever see a magewith one, at this age?" "May I?" as Tripper ever so gently raised her hair andexposed her ear, "and see, not even half-elf, a human child?" Lauren wasincensed, "I AM NOT A CHILD!!!" "OHHH, please, m'lady, I meant no offense,

I, ahhhhh, errrrr" "Well, come on Tripper, get your foot out of your mouth andlet's be going, I'm sure Bostamus wouldn't want us to interfere anymore than wealready have" "So right you are Isyll." " But, m'lady, Lauren, where might he

be?" Lauren tried hard to hold her face stone hard, but another monster wouldhave been easier to fight off than the stream of tears. "I don't know, I haven't seenhim for two weeks." "This is not a good sign, Tripper, I told you there were realstrange things afoot! We've been seeing monsters for over a week, and now thisone in broad daylight, and it a fervent thing of darkness. Now this! We can'tleave her here alone, nor stay here with her, shes attracting them like flies to afresh turd!" "I agree my little friend." "Lauren, best you tell us, come alongquick now, save that flow for when you get thirsty, and what's been going on

here?""I don't know. I should really wait here!" "No time now, m'lady, these signs willtell Bostamus everything he needs to know.", Tripper was busy arranging stones,a bit of cloth a bone from the monster, a stick or two in what looked like a random

pattern in the grass at the edge of the trail. "He would have been taking you allthe way to Valley Town, to the Statue of Mahrythra, and you'd have likely died onthe way anyway, especially with that sword. Your best bet is with us at theCaverns of Gorn's Skull, and I'll train you to use that thing on the way. Thesesigns will tell Bostamus, if he lives to read them.

I fear your breach of the time barrier has set the things in motion again." "Youhad best get used to it m'lady," whined Isyll, "If'n we succeed at this, it'll be twoor three years for you to live through the changes that you've started, if not, itwon't matter, not for any of us at least." With that somber note well entrenched,they hefted their packs. Isyll looked at Tripper, and Tripper nodded. Isyll held outa small pouch to Lauren and she took it, then he handed her the largest ruby sheever seen, or ever hoped to see. Her eyes bulged. "WHAT! AHHHHH." "Theyare yours, m'lady. Booty from the creature you slay. It's only fair you have 'em.You carry 'em. They're yours, after all." "And everything that goes with 'em, or'sattracted by 'em" That little bit of news was not as welcome as the thingsthemselves. They headed down the trail, Lauren behind Tripper, Isyll last. "Cute

butt, though, she mused."

Isyll sat patiently, watching the two practice their sword play. It was one of thosewarm dreary fall days when leaning back under a tree was a just enoughexcitement. He enjoyed the feel of the moist cool earth under his body; it brought

back fond memories of homes in hills, and every once in a while the touch of smoke in the air had him wandering the streets in his mind. Only the continualtwanging of steel blades kept him from drifting off into sleep. He opened one eyeto scan the area, after all, he was on guard duty. "Really should be careful,

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Tripper, that wench is getting down right good with that blade and if'n she sticksyou with it no tellin' what it'll do to yah!" Isyll had to interject his opinion once or twice, just so they would know he was still awake, you see.

There was a long draw taken on the newly filled ale mug as the grizzledold face was dappled with foam. The bright young eyes gazed on, filled with thewonder of the story, waving a finger at the barkeep to fetch another ale for the oldadventurer. The grizzled old face smiled wide. He didn't need the favour of freeales, but longed to tell the tales to anyone who would listen; but somehow, theyall thought that the ales pried the stories from him and as such were worth thelisten.He swept his eyes about him, from the bench he owned, at the table he owned, inthe bar he owned, on the street he owned, in the town he owned most of, to theyoung face in front of him that thought he barely owned the faded old robes on his

back.

Just then, with a wicked back hand slice, Lauren caught a piece of Tripper'sforearm. There was a loud crack and a bright flash of light, and Tripper washurled back into a ball in the grass. Lauren dropped the sword and leapt forward,slowly prying and peeling at Tripper's leather armor. A fine black line traced thelength of Tripper's left arm and the armor was peeled open like the skin of a freshfruit. He groaned and sat up slowly. "Don't move Tripper." cautioned Isyll."Wait, I want to look under that armor. Isyll, you'd better fetch me the big kit.Tripper, loosen your shoulder buckle so's I can get the bracers off." Lauren gentlyloosened the glove and bracer and slid the damaged armor free of his arm."DAMN" moaned Tripper "I've had these bracers for years, and hard fought for too, and now all the magic's gone no doubt, them split like this and all." Laurenslit the cloth shirt and looked at the fine black line traced in Tripper's arm. Theindent ran clear up to the elbow, but there was no break in the skin. "Well I'll be agoat's brother!" mused Isyll. "I'd never have believed this story in a bar.Damnedest thing!?" Lauren poked lightly at the arm, "Hurt?" "Nope, not a bit.A little numb is all." "I thought for sure it would mostly be in two big chunks.That was a hard swing I made, and with that loud crack ..." She walked over and

picked up the sword, swung it a few times and then maneuvered it back into her new scabbard. Not a knick in it, she noticed, and still sharp as ever.

"So why was that? Why didn't the sword cut him then?" "Well, my young friend,we knew it was a cursed blade; that was for sure. What we'd yet to figure out wasthat it wouldn't cut anyone who's Good. Made Isyll a touch nervous once wefigured that out though." The barkeep came over to table ... "Will you be lockingup boss?" "Sure, head on home Addelle, the young lad and I will take care of the

place. Come on lad, stack the table and we'll move inside and tap us a keg ... onme this time ..."

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Bostamus rounded the corner and spotted two crows picking at a set of bones. Hehung his head at the thought that passed through his mind. Several steps later hespotted a piece of cloth in the grass. Some crows had mussed things a bit, but the

message, or at least parts of it, was still there. The girl was still alive, Tripper andIsyll were here, and they left for ... damn, some mountain or other. The bone wasmissing. He dug in his pack and pulled out a little leather pouch. With a flourish,he spread the dusty contents around him on the ground. He spoke the arcanewords and a shining arrow design started to glow in the grass. It pointed west.West was a big direction, and it was NOT the way the path went. He sighed.

It was one of those cool mornings, you know the type; the blankets were pulled upand noses pointed toward the stars as they faded in the dawn light. Laurenmoaned lightly as her passion rose. She reveled in the warm wet thrusting andundulated her body in response to his eager tongue. They both moaned. She

relaxed, and swept her fingers through his hair as she drifted back to sleep.With a start she gasped and opened her eyes, her heart racing, her body aching,her mind racing ... her dream racing...

Isyll sat quietly by the small fire making a morning brew, and Tripper snoredquietly, more like a hard breathing. Isyll smiled slyly, "Beautiful morning M'lady.Something special about a fine morning... a great way to start a day." He turned

back to poking the fire, his tunic and breeches hung to warm. She had seen himin his birthday suit before, but, somehow, this time was different. She got up andheaded towards the stream to wash, oooooooo baby, did she want to wash.Standing in the water up to her knees, Lauren stretched, and several long curlyhairs dropped from between her fingers and floated away in the current. Shewandered back into the camp, her robe draped loosely over her shoulders,smiling, remembering her morning dream. Isyll gave her a hot cup of brew, and ahot fresh biscuit, a trail rarity. Tripper, lying in his bed roll, piped up, "Hey ...furball ... where's mine?!" Isyll tossed an empty tin cup at Tripper, and then

pointed at the bag of flour as he walked away toward the stream. Lauren, stillmellow and smiling, spotted her blanket and clothes hanging in the sun, and Isyll's

blanket spread were hers had been. She stretched out on the short blanket andthen sat up with her hot brew in hand. Her dream simply amazed her, and she letherself drift into the bliss that still followed her around. Isyll wandered back intocamp, his long curly hair glistening in the morning sun.

The candle light flickered as the old man let out a gasp of air after nearly draininghis mug of ale. "Welllll, then things got realllll hairy!"

"Tripper? What's that old trail, there?" "Don't even think about it Lauren, thattrail goes to the Keep of Belasarius." "THEEEEEE Belasarius?" "Yes, the one."

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"Let's go there, come on, this I gotta see, how far is it? This is going to be great!Theeeee Belasarius! WOW!""FORGET IT LAUREN!!!""AWWWWWW come on guys, just this once, we've been on the road for sixmonths, I'm bored, I need a bath, and roof over my head!" "Lauren, what do you

think? You think they turned that old keep into a roadside inn or something?When Belasarius was killed in the River's End wars, adventurers from all over the planet and a few other dimensions came to plunder his loot, and most of them lefttheir bones to mark the spot they died. That old geezer must have spent half hislife collecting stuff, and the other half making traps to protect it all. I went thereonce, when I was young, and STUPID, and watched 30 good men roast in a pitright before my eyes. It took us a month to get in the place, and took me almost ayear to get out, on my own. There's no way in hell's gates I'm going back in that

place!" "But, but ..." "Tripper, we don't be forgettin' the lady needs her test for fifth level, as you where sayin' earlier. It sure would be good for her with thething and all, you know."

"YAH!, what 'thing'?""NO WAY!""CHICKEN!!!!!!""It do seem our tall lanky friend is best in the forest, and behind a tree, wouldn'tyou agree, m'lady?""CHICKEN!!!!, baaaauuuuwwwk!"Tripper fumed, spit, kicked dirt and threw a tantrum the likes of which no one buthis old mother would have ever seen. "ALLLLLL RIGHT!!!! You asked for it!""Well my bush loving friend, I could take the young lady up the trail myself andyou could wait here for us, but then I couldn't do the honor of passing her into thenext level, it is a ceremony, is it not?" "I SAID alright, didn't I, wellllll, come onthen lets not be hanging about here there's things to do and we best get 'em donecome on now, move your hairy little ass up that trail and keep a sharp eye aheadfor traps and such and you, missy, better hope the next furball you find in a'dream' is as friendly as the last!"Lauren looked quizzically, shrugged her shoulders at the comment, and smiled ear to ear as she took off down the old grown over trail.

Bostamuss, hand-made staff stuck firmly between two stones, and with an edgeof his ragged ill fitting robe wrapped firmly in a bramble, he heaved forward. Thestaff snapped with a sharp crack and the robe tore clear up to the shoulder as helurched headlong into the thistle and thorn patch. "Ahhhhhhhhhh,&^^$@$%^#^&()!!!!!!" as sharp thorns punctured all that was dear to him, andthe itch from the thistles started. He swore, cursed and flapped his handsfuriously. The bushes blackened and crumbled away, some burst into flame. Hescratched and swatted, rubbing and picking at the raw skin. Through the smokeand fumes he spotted a familiar hill in the distance, although it had been many,many years he remembered the feelings all too well. "Sorry old friend, but theneed is great, and if what I suspect is true, then I'm sure you would agree." he

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muttered to himself, thinking of the memories beyond that distant peak. Hechanged direction and headed northwest.

Several days later, Isyll stopped abruptly at the crest of a small hill. He had beenmoving a little farther ahead of the other two, just in case he accidentally sprung

some trail trap, but now he just sat down, dropped like a stone, and beckoned theothers forward. Tripper and Lauren broke into a run and caught up, walking thelast few steps. "What's with all the white sand?" Lauren asked. The tall stonekeep built beside the cliff face was surrounded by white. The trail toward it, fromthe base of the ridge they sat on, was gleaming white. "Not sand ...." said Isyll."Bones!" remarked Tripper. "Millions and millions of them by the gods! Therewere never that many before, just a few on the trail ... but this, this is the wholedamn valley!"

The trio, although perhaps not quite as cocky as before, carefully walked on thetrail of broken bleached bones. They sounded like footsteps on ceramic bells, and

the noises echoed the length of the deathly quiet valley. Tripper showed themhow to pace their steps so that the sounds were random, lest any sequence or pattern trigger some missed trap. The hand signals flew, nervously, shakily, between them until suddenly Isyll reached down and picked up a gleaming set of foot bones. "Halfling!" he shout-whispered. Tripper and Lauren both released aflurry of hands at Isyll. "Shit! Isyll, now you've done it!" bellowed Tripper, at lastgiving in to his need to say something. All around them, bones started toassemble, their ceramic tones echoing, swords, old and rusted tinging into their

boney hands, shards of armor, dented filthy helmets atop gleaming skulls withdark ominous sockets. Black clouds started to swirl in the sky above their heads,

blocking out the crisp morning sun. Lauren's eyes were verily bugging out of her head looking at the masses of skeletons on the rise. "What an ingenious trap!What finesse! This is truly awesome! Look at this, will you! The old guy reallyout did himself, a trap that propagates itself, and with permanency too! Morekills, more trap; what an idea!" The clouds thickened, and slight visages of rumbling could be heard in the distance as the valley darkened. Tripper and Isyllstiffened, swords in hand, facing the waiting hordes. "What are they waiting for!"yelled Isyll, as if the hours of silence on the trail was forcing yells for every wordnow. "Its not dark enough yet!" bellowed Tripper, panting in anticipation of thecoming battle. The skeletons swirled in slow unison, growing in numbers, pacingabout them, dark sockets staring into their souls. The sky rumbled, and theground vibrated with its closeness.

Lauren, almost casually, reached into her pack and pulled out Dirk's old sack.She reached inside and carefully withdrew a small bottle of clear liquid and a

bronze symbol. Deftly pouring the holy water on the symbol, and sprinkling therest on the ground, she then tossed the symbol in the midst of the undead hordes.The raucous hordes descended on the symbol with a vengeance unlike Isyll or even Tripper had ever witnessed. They cut and slashed, hacked and bashed,tearing it and themselves to pieces. Tripper and Isyll stood wide-mouthed as

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Isyll stood with his back tight against the wall, as if to try and blend into it in thedarkness. Not much was worse for a thief, caught in the open, his back to a wall,nowhere to go or escape to, and no way to talk his way out. Anything with clawsas big as they could hear, sure didn't want to talk much, unless it was to order dessert when it was done. Tripper wasn't sure if it was his heart, or the thing had

real big feet too, and lots of them. Lauren slowly put her sword into its sheath.Tripper heard her, he couldn't see a damn thing in this blackness, but he knew thesound of steel sliding into its resting place real well. He gasped, or more like

panted a little, to keep up with his racing heart, wondering what the hell the girlwas up to. Isyll, as slow as he dared, and as quiet as his thiefness would allow,took a small parchment packet out of his tunic pocket and popped it into hismouth, string and all, and started chewing. Lauren mumbled several strangewords and pointed a finger into the inky blackness. A point of light shot forwardand grew in size until it was the size of a fist and some 20 feet ahead. The whiteglowing sphere hovered in what she thought would be the center of the tower'sfirst room. Inky blackness hung at the edge of the light in every direction, as far

as the eye could see. Two sets of green eyes stared back from knee high balls of fur and teeth almost directly beneath the light. They all screeched. Isyll, hishands oozing a sticky coating from the spider climb spell he had hidden away for

just such an emergency, shot straight up the wall behind them and he climbeduntil he was safely at the edge of the light's range. The first Tondar fired acrossthe stone floor at blinding speed and grappled onto Tripper's leg. Without eventhinking, Lauren flashed her hand and a dash of fire seared into the secondTondar, setting it into a flaming ball that screeched and thrashed past her andthumped into the wall in a smoking heap. She drew the sword and neatly loppedthe head off the Tondar on Tripper's leg as he attempted to dislodge it with the tipof his own sword without severing his own foot in the process. Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she looked at the sword, then at Tripper. He, bent over andwiping the blood and gore from his leather armor, "Like I was trying to tell youm'lady, when you have enough experience as a fighter, more than you had as amagic user, you can then use either skill you like. The sword is still cursed yousee, and if you raise any weapon in anger it will pop into your hand as it did

before, but your magic is second place now so you can use your spells withouttriggering the curse, you see?" Tripper walked over to Lauren and placed hishand on her forehead. "Do you witness this, Isyll" "I do!", his voice echoingfrom the distance above." "Then I declare this fighter named, D'Lauren, begranted sixth level by my hand and spirit, may the gods walk with her, anddemons fear her. I, N'D'Tripper, Master of Swords, affirm this. Do thee, witness,agree?" "I, Won'Isyll Pinchit, Master of Thieves, do agree and affirm!" With aflourish, Isyll dropped from the darkness and landed with a gracefulness Laurencould hardly believe. She stood, gape mouthed. In unison, the two said "Kneel,Lady D'Lauren, and bow your head." She slowly lowered herself, her swordtouching the stone floor. She felt the two hands touch her head, and a tingling,almost cold, ran the length of her body as the masters bestowed the levels uponher. Her chest tingled and itched, as it had the many times before when she hadreceived levels, but this time it was much stronger and she couldn't help scratch at

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it. Her tunic opened just a little as she scratched and both of the men gasped atthe sight of the bright red scar below her neckline. "What?!Its just a birthmark! Alright?! Quit that! Geeeeezzzzz! MEN!"They looked at each other. "Sorry m'lady, no offense meant. Its just that wenever noticed it before. Must be a reaction or something, the stress perhaps.

We'll do this ceremony up real proper, ale and all, when we get out of here." "If,Tripper, IF." inserted Isyll. "We had best get moving, these things usually hangabout in packs." Lauren waved her hand and the ball of light slowly paced aheadof them as they moved toward the far side of the room.

Bostamus stood before an angled hole in the ground, the rock cut down like aramp, burnt bushes and black stone all around. The great iron door at the end of the ramp stood broken and bent on its hinges, two crushed stone gargoyles lay onthe path. "Now, this ain't good.", he hissed through clenched teeth. He looked

behind him suddenly, "either something got in, or something got out, and I don'tmuch like the thoughts of either one that could do that!" With a flourish of hand

signs and sharp whistling noises, Bostamus glimmered in the day's light and then blinked out. Moments later a telltale little puff of dust appeared at the entranceand disappeared into the dank blackness beyond the massive door.Bostamus walked very carefully in the black and still corridor, seeing his wayahead in the fuzzy spectrum of infrared vision temporarily provided by one of hismany spells. He, however, was blocked from anything's sight by a spell of invisibility, although his passage could be heard, and he could be smelled,

boyyyy, could he be smelled. He arrived at a spot that was somewhat familiar inhis old memories. He had been this way only once before, and that was a longtime ago during the initial phases of construction. Actually, this apparently oncesecret back entrance was his idea when he stopped by to visit his old friend someyears before the River's End Wars. Of course, the old mage had since changedmany of the details, expanded the concept and layered in many traps to catch theunwary. Bostamus spotted the faint lines in the wall he was searching for, andthen noticed the gaping hole in the tunnel wall another 50 or so feet along the

path. The gods only know where that crew ended up, but knowing the old master of traps, they probably wished theyd hadn't, just before they died. Bostamusmumbled some arcane words, swept his hands in a complicated pattern andarched his pointed finger at the wall. Glowing lines appeared, tracing manyforeign symbols and diagrams, and outlining the edge of the door. In deftmovements Bostamus touched the sequence of icons, each in turn with secretwords and guttural sounds, at the end he reached forward and knocked on thedoor. Cracking and popping, dust and cobwebs falling away, the door creakedopen. Bostamus gazed into the darkness ahead then slowly entered the smallroom. Thick layers of dust covered everything, smooth and fine dust easily razedwith the slightest touch. He sighed, and with a silent whoosh the door closed

behind him, sealing him in. He stood, quiet, listening, until the sound of his ownheartbeat filled the chamber. With a snap of his fingers torches on all four wallssprang into life and washed the room in their yellow light. A sullen stone facegreeted him from a wall on the far side of the room.

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Carved into the living rock of the cliff the stone face carried no expression, itseyes closed, lips tightly closed, thick dust on its cheeks and nose. Bostamuswalked to within a few feet of the face, "Now what?".The face wrinkled its brow, and opened its grey stone eyes, a puff of air expelledand dust blew into the air like a breath of smoke. Two small coughs expelled, the

stone face started to grind its mouth, inhaling a great breath of dank stale air."Ahhhhhh, welcome Bostamus, my friend, as it were that I could be here towelcome you myself," intoned the face in a voice ever so familiar, "but I am off tothe wars on a commission and should be back soon. Make yourself at home, asusual, but beware of the traps outside of the quartered area. I've made some newones, and a few experimental ones too, and for sake of the gods, don't goanywhere near the front entrances, I've screwed up there in most large fashion andit will take several of us quite a while to sort it out and kill off the things that creptthrough a misplaced dimensional portal. I've temporarily blocked the portal, andit should hold until I get back, a few moons more at least. Fare thee well, myfriend, until we meet again."

The face returned to its stony posture and slowly withdrew into the living rock.Bostamus stepped close to the wall and placed his hand over the nose as it meltedinto the wall. "Farewell, my brother, until we meet again." he whispered throughclenched teeth, his throat tightening, fighting back the tears trying to escape fromhis eyes. He sat heavily in the big wooden chair his head slumped between his

palms. It all caught up with him and he started to sob. In great gasps and sharpcries he bellowed his pain, the disturbed dust raising into the air of the smallroom, no echoes in such a small space, just the dull thud of his hurt, his rage, hislove for everything and everyone he had ever lost rushing through his old body.The stone carried the message, tiny vibrations and low crying tones through thecliff and keep, to all the patient ears, big and small, furry and leathery, warm andcold, and those made of stone or steel.

Lauren stood gape jawed at the sight before her. "Wellll? What the hell is that?"whispered Isyll. The trio stood in what looked like the center of the room. A

blast hole in the stone crackled with energy and lines and diagrams etched inwandering patterns were scuffed and scratched. Icons and symbols were partlyerased, but the patterns were clear enough. Lauren panted faster and faster, her face glowing red, "Oh shit! Oh Shit! Oh NOOOOOO!" pant pant "WE... we ...."

pant pant "we gotta...wegottagetoutofhererightnowwhilewecanifwecanlikeRIGHTFUCKINNOW!!!"she madly darted her eyes from side to side. She spotted a darkish looking hole inthe far wall, sort of a dug tunnel or something, and bolted headlong for it. She ranso fast even Isyll had a rough time catching sight of her. If it weren't for the seriesof little squeaky breathes she was emitting they wouldn't have had a clue of whichway she had ended up going. The crackling energy had a spasm, hissing andspitting little balls of fire that danced and arched across the floor. In a snap,crackle, pop a little creature appeared, and sort of walked out of the chaos. Itseemed disoriented and stumbled, like a sailor on too much drink, and eyed thetwo strangers. Tripper and Isyll, more curious than not, returned the creature's

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gaze. It was small, a little hairy and sported a pair of red breeches and a flatishred cap. It would have been about knee high on Isyll and looked a bit like someschools girl's favorite doll. It walked forward a pace or two, staring hard at thetwo giants ahead. It stopped, looking up at Isyll and from its lips peeled thestrangest and loudest screech either had ever heard.

Lauren was long into the tunnel when the scream pierced the darkness. She planted both feet and skidded to a halt, suddenly realizing she was alone."shitshitshitshitshit" she wheeled about and bolted the way she had come.Without even thinking Isyll had planted his short sword firmly through the middleof the little stranger. The little guy reached up and snapped the magicallyendowed metal between his fingers and the magic spilled into the air with acrackling hiss. Isyll dropped the broken blade and deftly gleaned a dagger fromthe recesses of his cloak. The creature withdrew a tiny silver device from his beltand pointed it at Isyll's chest. They both paused for only a split second, andwithout warning Isyll fired backwards in an eruption of noise and flame. Tripper was splashed with hot blood and fur as Isyll went flying past. Out of the distance,

among a chorus of profanity and arcane words, streams of magical death, flamingarrows, bolts of crackling energy, icy blasts and blazing infernos of heat searedtowards, onto, into and through the munchkin. Lauren tossed one after another,every spell she had ever learned and few she was sure she had forgotten. Thelittle creature was fried, doused with water, cleaned, torn asunder and to finishthings off, surrounded with a blaze of color in the form of butterflies. She wasspent, completely free of any spell at her disposal, and she knew it.

Little arms flapping, it raged in the midst of the turmoil. Tripper knew what to dothis time when he heard the familiar "shitshitshit ..." trailing off into the distance;he tossed the limp wet form of Isyll over his shoulder, "Hang on little buddy ..."and ran like hell.They ran down the roughed in corridor until the light from the entrance was toodim to see ahead. Lauren stopped first, panting, and dropped down with her

packs sliding against the damp stone. A set of feet was padding fast after her, andshe wasn't sure who, or what it might be, nor did she really care. Her hair wasmatted flat with sweat and dust, and she was breathing in great gasps. Tripper came running up, and almost tripped over her startling himself, "By the gods!Lauren, you damn near tripped me flat out! Why are you stopping? We've got toget Isyll to somewhere safe, he's bleeding all over me, and not breathing mucheither." Suddenly he realized that the tunnel was somewhat like the inside of acow... black, that is. "Can't you make one of those light thingeys so we can getthe hell outta here?" "No, Tripper, I can't!" "Wahh, well, we had better dosomething, and we'd better do it soon." Tripper dumped Isyll, rather unceremoniously, between Lauren's legs on the cool stone floor. "Heeyyyyy,watch it ..." "Yah, like he's never been there before ..." Lauren squinted in thedark, "AAaannnnnd, just what do you mean by that?!" "Ohhhhhh, nothing, sorry,here, hold this ..." Tripper placed a round firm object in her hand. Neither onecould really see anything, but Tripper had done this many times before, as hadLauren, well, sort off. Lauren heard several sharp clicks as Tripper started the

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short hand torch he had gleaned from his pack. With a few puffs and a little hiss,the torch sprang into life casting a yellowish hazy light on the trio and about 10feet of the corridor. Just then, in the distance, a piercing screech echoed and aloud booming sound followed. The munchkin was on the move. Tripper quicklygrabbed up Isyll, "Lauren, take the torch and do point, find us a hidey-hole, and

be quick about it." Lauren stood up quickly, and noticed all the blood, on her, theground, all over Tripper. Isyll's face was ashen white and his arms hung like limpwax over Tripper's backpack. "Ohhhh by the gods!!!" "Not now Lauren, move... move!" Lauren moved down the corridor at a double pace; it wasn't safe to runin so little light, but they had to move fast. It seemed like miles, but was morelike 50 yards when Lauren noticed a partly open door ahead on the side of thecorridor, she motioned for Tripper to stop, then pulled her sword, kicked the door and breezed into the small room. It was lined with shelves, had some sacks at oneend, and was thick with dust, other than that, it was empty. "In here," shewheezed. Tripper whipped into the room, glanced about and then gently placedIsyll on a shelf like it was a bunk-bed. "I'll be back in a minute, wait here, give

me the torch ..." as he rumaged through his pack and came out with a small sack."Pepper ..." he said. Lauren crouched near Isyll, listening to him breathe raspyshallow breathes with a gurgling sound from his chest as the darkness grew. Her sword in her tight grasp, the darkness became terror as Tripper disappearedthrough the door and down the corridor. Once he passed by at a fast clip, andagain the darkness swallowed her. The still quietness surrounded her, so still, sodeathly quiet. With a crack in her mind, she thought, too quiet.Isyll had stopped breathing.

A few miles away, and through mostly solid stone at that, Bostamus slipped fromsobbing to snoring. He had plopped himself into the old dusty single bed duringhis heart felt rage, and in total exhaustion had more passed out than fallen asleep,

but sleep he did. Deep within a stone box, with a large thick iron lid, somethingstirred. Light danced eerily at the keyhole of the trunk, and from the inside, adevious little creature struggled to get out. Bostamus didn't notice the dancing of light in little flurries about the room, nor the sharp pitched hums and buzzes abouthim.

Lauren frantically struggled in the darkness, searching through her packs, hers,Dirk's, Bostamus's, dumping contents on the floor and searching by feeling each

bit. She wheezed through each breath, through clenched teeth, Tripper's name, asif to summon him in some arcane spell. She grabbed onto a bottle she knew byfeel, but hesitated, dreading the outcome. "Forrrrstterrrrrrrrrr ...!!!!" she yelledthrough clenched teeth, not a yell but the hope of a yell made quiet. She couldwait no longer, it had been minutes since he stopped breathing. She undid theseal, carefully, for she did not want to spill any, not a single drop. She didn't liketo use this stuff in a laboratory, let alone a pitch black storeroom in the middle of whoknowswhere with whoknowswhat about to bite her ass that was pointed at anopen door in the middle of some infested dungeon. "shitshitshitshitshit ..." slowly

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a yellowish haze appeared, not that she noticed, her eyes sealed tight and all.Tripper stood quietly, watching, understanding that something vastly importantwas happening, and that he had better not move. The potion was slowly sprinkledover Isyll, each drop immediately soaking in, over clothes, skin, everything. Eventhe raged edges of his broken armour soaked up the greyish liquid. When the

bottle felt completely empty, Lauren stopped, slowly lowering her arm, and her head. She opened her eyes, and the sight of the yellow hazy light greeted her.She didn't even look at Isyll, she just dove into Tripper, sobbing "I had no choice,he stopped breathing, it's all I could do ..." "This was between you and the gods,Lauren, I have no place to complain here. He was my friend, yes, but I've lostmany friends in places like this, and no doubt Isyll won't be the last. You didwhat you could ...BY THE GODS ... WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?"Tripper looked at Isyll's still form, and it was grey. With a sudden crack, the shelf gave way and Isyll crashed to the ground, solid stone. There were a few tensemoments, with little arms flapping and wails and tears, Lauren explained that Isyll

had stopped breathing and how she had searched the packs in the darkness. Shehad found the little man shaped bottle, knowing it was a flesh to stone potion. Normally, she explained, the potion would be used to dispatch a particularily badass opponent, but it would also serve to preserve a very good specimen. With theright combination of spells, the specimen could then be revived at some zoo or other. She had thought, perhaps, that Isyll could be revived and cured, as he wasnot completely dead yet when stoned."Wellllll, now I've seen it all, okay, the gods can take me now! ... I somehow don'tthink Isyll would mind being stoned right about now, but I doubt this is what hewould have thought being stoned was. You did your best, Lauren, a bit of an oddtack perhaps, but better than I woulda done." Tripper had been wedging the door and packing bits of cloth in the cracks while Lauren talked. "There, that ottahold." Tripper glanced about the room and spotted a little hole in the ceiling,"Good, vented storeroom too. Means we can use the torch ... till it burns out,anyway. We should get some rest." "But, ..." Lauren pointed at the hallway. "Nofear m'lady, the pepper I ran all up and down the hallway and sprinkled in front of the door will stop anything with a nose, the door's been wedged good, and thelight is blocked by the rags. As long as we are quiet, we'll be fine in here untilsomeone who's been here before notices the door's locked closed. I've done thismany many times before. Sometimes for days on end while a party of us healedup." Lauren was hunched over, sitting on the stone floor, asleep. Tripper chuckledas he lifted her onto one of the other shelves and threw his cloak over her. Heneatly stacked the packs on a shelf, patted Isyll on the head, as Isyll stood leaningagainst the door, and then crawled up on the shelf with the packs. He then smiledat Lauren, and blew out the stubby torch.

Old Bostamus stirred restlessly on the cot. The room around him gleemed, shineyspittin' clean, him included. His old robes lay crumpled in the corner and a spareset he had left here many years before lay across the polished desk. A warm wool

blanket covered him, and from on top of his rounded belly, a piercing squeak of

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glee emitted. He popped his eyes open, "GRACE!!!!, you little nymph!, wheredid you come from???"

Bostamus sighed, "Slow down Grace, these old ears aren't used to that speedylittle voice of yours...", then he laughed. He hadn't laughed so much in years, with

Grace around there was never a dull moment, she buzzed with stories, told him of peeking in on sordid romances, spying in the River's End wars, and cried withhim as she described the death of their brother and friend. He told her about thetrio he was tracking down, but had stopped off to replace his lost gear. She toldhim about the gateway letting loose and all the odd creatures roaming about

pillaging and killing each other. She described flitting through the ventilationshafts from room to room until she found his stone trunk and curled up in one of his robes to hibernate until he returned one day, or she died away. They reveledin each other's company, remembered old times, and shared a meal onceBostamus dug out one of his old backup spell books and whipped up a small feast.Bostamus also found a bottle of rare old wine in the bottom of the trunk, one he

had forgot about, no doubt put there after winning it in some old bet or other during a past visit. He patted the heavy stone door and eyed his secure littleroom, more like a small house in the living stone, actually, but a small place byhis usual standards, but he always did like this place. Across the room, and downa little hallway, up the stairs, through a rather impressive iron door, down thathallway and through another secret stone door, and you were out of his oldapartment and into the keep proper. He had this room, sort of a catch all room,with a writing desk, a big old chair that was going to be thrown out, an old bedthat was going to suffer the same fate a long time ago, several knick-knacks andcollectables, junk in other words, and his stone trunk, the reason the room wasadded on in the first place. The stone trunk was waist high, and two men long,about one man's length wide and had portal space inside; in other words, youcould easily drop several houses full of stuff in it and still have enough room tothrough an ethnic wedding. Of course, the space did not alleviate the weight, andall that stuff weighed a lot. If the trunk had been put anywhere but a basementfloor, it would have gone crashing through a long time ago. Because of all thestuff in the trunk, the writing desk and the old chair, oh yah, and the old bed, thishad become Bostamus' favourite room in his apartment. The only one he needed,actually, but he did have plenty of stuff, so he had plenty of room. He plopped inhis chair and waved at the desk, "make a note to put more wine in trunk." The

pen immediately sprang out of the dried up ink well and scratched a note into theold yellowed paper. "Damn," he muttered, "why didn't I ever get around to

putting a perma-ink bottle in that desk?" They shared the bottle of wine,Bostamus drinking from an old silver goblet with strange inscriptions on its side,and Grace from a tiny one, a piece of some odd child's game ported in fromanother dimension long ago. "Well, Gracie, my little nymph, what shall we do? Ishould scrounge this old place and see if I can come up with a few things. Itseems to me I left quite a bit of my old gear and lower level spell books about,and some odd pices of loot and what not. I sure could use some of the old geezer'sthings too, I wonder if he left a few doors open?" Grace buzzed in anticipation of

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hitting the road again with her old friend and offerred to flit up the ventilation andcheck some of the labs, storerooms, dens, libraries and collection rooms.Bostamus warned her to be careful, after all, she was a pretty bright target in thedark, and there were pretty good odds she wasn't the only thing about that couldfly.

She reminded him that once you chase down a nymphette, you had better be readyto prove you know what to do with her. He laughed, and she buzzed out throughthe ventilation shaft and into the darkness of the keeps pipes.

Bostamus, his bottle of wine in hand, mellow, walked down the little hallway andup the stairs. At the iron door, he froze in mid stride. With a snap of his fingersseveral balls of light began to hover around the hallway. The door was dented,round dents, made from the other side. By the telltale bits of rust, he could tell ithad happened quite some time ago, but, magic doors are not supposed to rust.Oddly, this door was to stop any intruders coming from this direction and tryingto get into the keep. Bostamus figured that the magic being on this side was what

saved the door, because nothing could get at it. He walked back and got severalof his books and a scroll, a dagger and an old staff and then once again faced theiron door. With a flourish, the door glowed, its arcane symbols writhing andagain Bostamus traced the intracate patterns. The door popped and then creakedand groaned as it swung inwards. The glimmering sheen around Bostamus pulsedslightly as the foul stench from the apartment wafted through the corridor. Heheld the staff tightly, "This is a job for ... shit, this is a job for somebody a damnsight younger than I am, that's who this is job for..."He walked ahead into the darkness, his bobbing balls dodging around him anddarting up and down the hallway. Past several rooms, a quick peek told him thatwhatever wasn't stolen was broken and defiled. He walked up to the big stonedoor. It stood open, marred, flame scorched, scratched and wedged with ironwedges under its bottom, but looking fit. The wedges would stop it fromslamming shut, obviously something with considerable magic had assisted inopening it, but wasn't strong enough to nullify the magic completely. He pointedthe staff at the iron wedges and and a bright pulsing beam shone, turning themred, then white then they hissed and melted away. The door creaked, scratchingthe filth on the floor as it slowly picked up speed in slamming shut. With a finalcrunch and shudder, it pulverized the bones of some hapless creature long deadand blended into a wall. Bostamus wove his hand in some inexplicable patternand the traces on the door ignited, reifying their strength and duty. He then

passed his fingers along the door seam, and a fine web of light wove across themand burrowed into the living rock. "There," he said smuggly to himself.He turned, and several little sets of red eyes caught the glimmer of the dancing

balls of light. More showed up, then more from another room, finally a lowrumbling growl joined in from the recesses of his apartment, then another, andanother. He backed up against the stone door, still hissing with the new foundstrength of being shut tight, "I feel as if, I am suddenly green, and before mestands the device that lowers my height."

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Grace had cruised about for some time, the main library was a shambles, as wasmost, but the private quarters were in good condition, as well as the highestcollection rooms and the old master's secret laboratories. She was zipping along amain entrance hallway under construction when suddenly a burst of energymelted a chunk of the wall. She had been here many times before and darted

about to make a harder target. She buzzed straight for the pair to cut the anglesand look for a ventilation shaft, but this was a construction area, and most likelynot much ventilation was in yet. "NOOOO WAIT!", a gruff voice bellowed,"That's a nymph, they don't hurt anything ..." She fired past them at brake neck speed and flitted in through an open doorway. She glanced off what she thoughtwas a cheek and seeing the hole in the ceiling, bolted into the shaft. She heardseveral more yells and a long series of feline sneezes before she was too far intothe pipes to make out distinct noises. She hadn't been in these pipes before, andthey smelled funny. Like a wet forest, hollow logs and ... She spun in a tight loopas the tiny thread grappled left wing stuck to the web ensnaring her. And it didsmell funny, and familiar, just like spiders.

It seemed as if the hallway was alive with sneezing darkness. The little ball of light had gone careening past, rickocheting off Isyll's stone cheek and disappearedinto the ceiling. Tripper and Lauren stood back to back, "By the Gods, Lauren,we're in for it now!" The hissing and sneezing grew louder, and Lauren sheathedher sword, "ohshitohshitohshit, ehtana plethora soobang toll-de-ahh-fahhh!" Her hands wove an intricate pattern in the air, and her fingers suddenly stiffened.Yellowing strands started to build in the tunnel, weaving intricately from wall-to-wall, floor to ceiling. "Stay close to me Tripper, I told you the extra time on thespell books would be worth it." The hallway filled with webbing, and theyeowells, hissing and sneezing was slowly choking off. Gentle choked meowsand whimpers, muffled gasps and dying hard breaths were the last sounds beforethat all too familiar silence. The net pressed close to them and they could feel theheat building from their own bodies, the air getting stale. "Lauren, this is not verycomfortable, I might add. Being a ranger, this is not the type of sacrifice I wouldcare to make of my life." "Squeeze real close to me Tripper, this is going to hurtyou more than it will me." Lauren wiggled her finger, and that familiar tinglingand fuzzy glow started, barely covering most of Tripper and all of her. She

pointed her index finger, "Real close, Tripper, hug me tight!" "Damn, woman,you pick the strangest time..."The bolt of fire leaped from Laurens finger, stretching deep into web, andinstantly it roared into blazing fire. The rumbling of the flame belched red deathout both ends of the hallway, into the storeroom, and up the ventilation shaft.Tripper stood bellowing in pain and swatting at little clumps of burning web stuck to his armour and sword. A particularily nastiy bit glued itself to his forehead,and he smacked it hard with the flat of sword, only slightly aware of the problemwith that plan as he unceremoniously fumped in a heap on the floor. Lauren stoodin her shimmering shield, unscathed.

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Grace heard the rumbling, and while slashing at the spider with her tiny dagger,she wove a tight pattern of fairy dust about herself and tucked in her wings asmuch as she could. The flames and smoke rolled up the shaft. She felt the heatand heard the high pitch scream of the spider as it toasted. The web flashed into

bright flame and raced up the pipe ahead of her. She burst into action and zipped

through the smoke back the way she had come. Blindly through the smoke, shedashed, until she bounced off the floor of the storeroom. She sat in a heap, blackened and bruised, dirty, and pissed off.

Not exactly the best way to meet up with anything, let alone a real nymphette.Grace walked into the hallway, buzzing angry, and was greeted with the sight of arather large, by her standards, butt end pointed at her. She braced her feet, pulledher shiny little dagger and spit on its tip, pointed it at the butt, and raced her wingsto full-tilt warp drive.

Lauren was busy fussing with Tripper's boo-boos, him whining, mostly for the

attention, and her feeling bad for scorching him. They heard this little roar of aminute jet engine, all too late. Lauren's eyes popped and she screamed so loud the battle in the apartment settled for just a moment. She bolted straight upright,grabbing her left butt cheek with both hands, trying to brace herself right off her feet. Grace whizzed in for the kill, so to speak, and rained tiny blows across her face, along with a litany of non-ladylike language at a rate that sounded like anangry bee. Lauren tried to get off spells, but each was spoiled by a terror of little

jabs and stings. Tripper sprang to his feet and braced his sword, then slowly,realization swept across his face, and recognition.He started to laugh. He winced at some of the maneuvers, knowing all too wellthe pain Lauren was in, but, best she learned her lesson now, and learn it well.

Bostamus slowly wiggled his fingers and muttered under his breath, and in thedistance he heard the iron door swing shut. With a snap he faded into invisibility,and then little glowing red orbs started to appear in his wake as he crept down thehall past the glowing eyes. Little claws and fangs snapped at the orbs, bouncingthem around like kittens at play. He headed toward the low growling, counting tohimself, 28-27-26, down another filthy hall, 12-11-10, and into a large room thatused to be so familiar to him, 5-4-3, he pointed the staff at the large dark form, itsglowing red eyes, rows of blazing white fangs, 2-1, and he fired everything he had

just as the orbs grew, 0.

One would have burned a small castle, two a town, four was the best a youngmage could hope to handle, and Bostamus had laid nearly a dozen in the hallway,delayed fireballs, the mage's egg, and when it hatched, everything, even the magesometimes, died. The Altroth glared at him for a brief moment, its nest of stolentreasure about it, its young climbing around the room, before the bolts of heat andlightening seared into it, and it launched at Bostamus.

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The Altroth, as deadly as it might be, was no match for the chain of mini-nukeslaid down the hallway. The flash and heat dissolved the altroth young and themother exploded as her tough hide tried to contain the boiling body juices. Theshock wave ripped molten rock from the walls and Bostamuss magical shell of

protection could take no more. He covered his eyes against the near solar light

and heat and felt the slag splatter against him, burning to the bone. He yelledamidst the torrent of the explosions, and knew he could take no more.

Bostamus, almost shamefully, reached across the counter for another mug. Here, by all means, join us friend... He intentionally let his sleeve catch the bartop andit pulled up exposing the long thick scar he kept as a reminder, and proof to hisstudents. Oh, thats just a little of the scar, it doesnt hurt anymore though, butIve got one here thats clear to the bone ... As he started to hike up his robes,one of the young ladies let out sharp little cry. Now, now, Im sorry. Trust methough, it is there. But Master Bostamus, couldnt that be healed? Oh yes,

but it is a magical wound you see, and it requires the energies of a special type toheal it proper, or so Ive been told. I brave young womans love, freely given yousee, and me being so old, well ..The young mage sighed. But the young lady with him sighed even deeper, andlooked at him most strangely. But, youre so brave, and so intelligent ... shemused.Bostamus hung his head slightly, smiling just a little on only one side of his face.

Tripper was full out on the floor, laughing so hard his eyes filled with tears and heheld his belly to dampen the cramps. Lauren was flat on her backside, throwinghandfuls of floor dirt at the ever circling ball of buzzing light. Grace spun a tightcircle and finally noticed Tripper on the floor. She buzzed straight at him as hestarted to sit up. Tripper sat with his back against a wall, his knees bent and hishands flat on the floor, still laughing. Grace flew over and landed on his knee.She stood there, her hands on her hips, glaring at Tripper until the mirth edged outof his system. Lauren had no idea what the hell was going on, but it was the firstclear sight she had had of her enemy since the beginning of the battle, and shewasnt taking her eyes off the little human-like form.Grace pointed a finger at Tripper,Youuuuuuuu ... she screached, and then, withlittle arms flapping, launched into tiraid of buzzing words. Tripper tried hard tohold a straight face, for several long minutes he nodded and and smiled, and thenhe couldnt take it anymore.Lauren had been sitting in the dirt, busily reading some old book and waving her fingers frantically. Tripper had been watching this over Grace standing on hisknee, and well, it all became too much. He burst out laughing. Grace just froze,staring at him. Ever so calmly she raised her dagger and plunged its full lengthinto Trippers bent knee. Grace hovered as Tripper bellowed and his leg wentsuddenly flat against the floor. At the same moment, Lauren let loose the spellfrom the book. The page flashed a bright blue and turned to dust as a spark shot

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from her finger and into Graces back. Grace dropped like a little glowing ember from a fire and poofed into the dust on the floor.Trippers mouth hung open for a moment, then he scooped up the tiny still form.Grace!! he shouted. His eyes filled, and he looked at Lauren. What have youdone?

Bostamus could see the green fields of his youth, ah such peace and tranquility.He could hear his old Mom in the distance calling for them all for supper andsmell the meat roasting on the fire. Suddenly, he could feel the fire ... ow ow,shit, I didnt plan for fire ... ahhhhhhhh, water waterwaterwater ...owowowowowowow ... not again ... curse her %$#!##$Bostamus had always been good at planning, and had a habit of casting acontingency spell just in case. He knew that if he were hurt so bad he wasalmost unconscious, he sure didnt want to be there anymore. So, he magicallyarranged to be teleported back to a safe spot where he could recover. Some safespot ... he mused to himself as he delicately pinched out the smoking spots in his

now very patchy body hair. Next time ... BESIDE A LAKE!! ... %$%@!#$Lauren walked up to Tripper, quite smug with herself. Well, what is it?Tripper didnt know whether to throw himself in her arms, or take his blade andcut her in two, so he just stood there and sobbed. Two dear friends in as manydays, both by your hand, I dont know whether to hate you or fear you ... but bestyou keep a distance from me ... Tripper?? Tripper, what have I done? It wastrying to kill us both! Did Bostamus suffer the same fate, or did you kill himslowly? he hissed.Lauren, her eyes filled with tears, picked up her things and limped to the edge of the light. She turned after a few steps into the darkness, It isnt dead, just frozenin time!!! Annnnd, itll come back on its own in a day or so!!! I suggest youKILL IT before then, or join it in HELL!!!

Lauren ran for awhile, a hand straight out in front of her to feel for walls andcorners. Trippers bellows had long since faded into the distance. She felt thewalls grow cooler, and cast a light spell. Before her stretched a long hallwaylined with doors and a staircase leading up. Several of the doorways had been

burst in and several had been burst out so she opted for the staircase. Around thefirst corner a pile of skeletons marked the spot of a nasty trap. Sooooo, we haveus a challenge from old Master Belasarius, eh? So be it! What the hell have I gotto lose that isnt as good as lost anyway!Using the trick from the field of skeletons, she inched a random pattern up thestairs so as to not make a pattern of her sounds, just in case. After a couple of flights of steps, she noticed more pieces of bone and rags, and a stone snout

poking around a corner up ahead. She thought quickly and passed the sign of Wolfbane in the air before moving. She crept further and inched passed the rowof stone heads set in the walls. She felt the cold stone eyes follow her, but nomove was made by the sharp stone teeth stained with the blood of uncountedunwelcome visitors. Only a mage would have made it this far, and she was

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baffled by the blank stone wall in front of her. She again made the signs andwispered the incantation, and again the wall glowed slightly, but no symbolssprang to life. She sat on the stone steps to think. Far below a low stoney growlcould be heard, a slow rythmic step of heavy stone feet ... oh shit ...

Tripper new the drill well. After hours of searching for Lauren he sure as hellwasnt going to sleep in the hallway. It was like she had disappeared or something. He didnt dare go about yelled his head off, but he thought he couldtrack a fly across a night sky, and yet he couldnt find a lost girl in a dust covereddungeon. He talked to Grace as she hung out of his vest pocket. Up and downevery hall about weve been Gracie ... and no sign of her. I know, you must besick of the stories by now, but but ... I dont know what Ill do if harms come toher, you see ...Tripper walked back into the little storeroom and propped Isyll against the closeddoor. He made himself comfy against a shelf and held Grace in his hand. Iknow you cant hear me Grace, but I have to talk to someone. See old Isyll there

... and he gently held her by her tiny arms to spin and gaze at the stone form byher slowly pulsing glow, him and me have been to Hell and back. Through allsorts of mischief and mayhem, only to be done in by this ... this ... ah, you cantlive with em, and you cant live with em. He placed Grace prone in his palmand stared at her with loving eyes. You must know how it is Grace. I remember when old Bostamus got himself shrunk down by that whatyahmacallit in theBloorian Forest and ended up meeting you and your folk. Isyll and me searchedfor him for two years, and it ended up youn found us, thinking we were lost allalong I can see why that old buzzard fell so deep in love with you, though hedskin my ass if I ever told you that. We searched for nearly five more years to finda way to shrink him back down, he got so pissed after we saved him with thatweird potion. He smoothed her silken hair with the tip of his finger, You know,you are one beautiful little woman ... and with with a cutesy little devilish smirk he gently lifted the edge of gossamer robe and peeked into the forbidden areas of her glowing form. Yup, no wonder he fell nuts over brains in love with you ...lucky old fart ... If you were about ... this tall ... Id be able to pry open any door in this old dungeon.

Lauren could hear the rumbling in the distance and the footsteps getting ever closer. She felt the wall frantically, and found nothing but a little crack, maybetwo inches long and about a .... wide ... She slapped the handle at her side. Thegrowls were just around the corner ... She drew her blade and with a little dancemade her bet. She thrust the blade into the crack in the wall and suddenly themagic glyphs sprang to life with all of her previous spells. Quickly she traced thesymbols, thinking for some reason Work the lock, dont look at the dogs, work the lock! The door suddenly swooshed open and she grabbed her blade and spunto face a set of huge stone teeth, stained with the blood of countless adventurers.She stepped back and tripped flat out just over the threshold of the door. Thehuge stone door slammed shut, firing her across the floor like a pinball in amonster sized arcade. The door slammed full faced into those stone teeth, and the

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last she heard of it was like the smashing of a great cyrstal vase. She sped acrossthe large room, flat on her back, propelled by the blast of the door, and careenedinto the legs of a great wooden table that immediately toppled. The table leaned,and fell as she rolled to extract her arm out of the way as its edge smashed thefloor. She lay flat on the floor, and her world sounded like the angry attack of a

thousand huge angry bees. The table splintered, and little shafts of steel came poking through the thick old wood ... When the dust had finally settled, Laurencarefully inched to standing. The top of the fallen table had stopped hundreds of flying darts the size of daggers. She would most certainly have been sliced toribbons, with or without armour. Only a thief climbing on the ceiling would haveavoided that trap. ... Hmmmmmm, she mused. Thief ... mage, fighter ... thief ... as she swept her hand pointing across the room. She looked at the hugeoaken door beyond the table, across the room from the way she had come.Astanna en flor ... she incanted and waved her hands. The symbols sprang tolife. Mage ... she said smugly. She traced the symbols and the door swungopen. She stepped into a room lit with permanent orbs set into stone walls. The

door slowly and quietly swung closed behind her. She stood with her eyes fixedon a large gem set in a crystal lattice placed in front of one of the orbs. The colorsdazzled and held her gaze. To her side, she noticed just in time, a statue wasturning from stone to flesh and armour. A crested helmet, gauntlets, steel bootsand a bright two handed sword began to stir. Uh oh, Fighter ... she muttered inrealization.

Tripper heard a low rumble in the distance, and some few minutes later a huge belch of acrid smoke poured from the ceiling vent. Damn, now what?? Ohwell, either she lived through it or she didnt, eh Gracie? he sighed and placedhis hat on a shelf. Carefully, he placed her still form in the hat and brushed her hair once more. Then another quick peek Oooo baby ... and he placed hissomewhat grimy scarf over her like a blanket. Good night, Gracie, wherever youare ... as he kissed the end of his finger and then touched her gently on the cheek.

**

The well armoured fighter, a paladin perhaps, stretched and looked about theroom. He spotted Lauren and immediately flourished into a well practicedfighting stance with such speed and grace that Lauren stood slack-jawed. Hespared no moment to appraise the situation and launched into an almost ballet-likeattack. The precise swing that looked so feminine narrowly missed Lauren, whohad now come to the realization that her life was hanging by a slim thread of distance, and clove clean through a foot thick stone pillar holding up a shiningglobe of light. He danced past the falling debris as Lauren mostly dived, dodgedand tripped out the way of careening stone, globes, swords and mailed fists. Shemanaged a feeble stand and braced her sword in her arms to divert a sword blowthat would surely have cleaved her in two. His two-handed blade clanged to reston her sword, and through his helmet visor she could see a smile on his pearl-white teeth. With what appeared to be no effort at all, he merely pushed on his

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blade and Lauren slumped to her knees and finally to sitting, her blade hissingsparks, sweat pouring down her face, gasping for breath. With one arm, hereached up pulled off his helmet. Long treeses of golden auburn hair rained downover the square jaw and thick neck. Deep green eyes glared at her. He gazed ather, inches from her face, peering over the straining steel weapons, Alas my evil

bred young wench, prepare to meet thy doom. I shall smite thee soon, but first Ishall make a bride of goodness of thee, pushing all the evilness from thy body ...Laurens eyes popped, his voice sounding like the fine tuned pipes of a churchorgan. But, the words he spoke sunk beneath her hormones, and she reacted. Shekicked at his knee and felt the armour buckle ever so slightly. Not enough toharm him much, but enough for him to loose his balance a bit. His weightshifting, she bolted out of the locked swords hold and his blade bit into the floor.As she rose, he backhanded at her, and catching her blade she spun and the bladewas tossed from her grip. It clattered to the floor. She spun, about to reach for her dagger, as no time for spells existed in this split second onslaught. But thefighter stood calmly. Please, mlady, fetch your blade so that we may get on

with this business, and hence do the deed of honour upon you to chase theevilness away. She place her hands on her hips, Saaayyyy what? Pleasemlady, pointing at the sword on the floor. I have no intention of offeringmyself to be cleansed you oaf But mlady, it is a requirement of my order,you see, and well placed in scripture .. Go out upon the world, and bring forthgoodness, place the seed of goodness in all dark places and rid evil from theland. Wellll, thats a pretty loose interpretation, if I do say so ... I suppose thatmakes you some sort of priest or something? Actually mlady, a KnightPaladin of the Queens Guard. Ooooo lat-tee-dah ... and what about if I weresome ugly half rotten diseased orc? He stood stoicly, then cast a slight boyishgrin ... Tis, a nasty business indeed, mlady, but somebodys got to do it ...Oh, youre dis-gus-ting. Lauren could stand no more, besides she mused, whoknows were its been before ... eeeeoooooooo. She launched for her sword in asgraceful a move as she could muster, but he countered with the flat of his blade assoon she touched the hilt. The slap spun her on the floor, and she stood theredizzy and disoriented. When she looked up he was undoing the buckles on hisgarters. She through down her blade, and he whined, Oh mlady, please, no,

pick it up pick it up, just a few more swings, I promise, it has been such a longtime. Theres no way Jose.., I mean SIRRRrrrrrr Knight, just not going tohappen, no way ... But mlady, I promise, tis the finest, well errrr, secondfinest, in all the lands ... Read - my - lips you you, WOW! I dont care, noway, not after you doin some orc or worse ... for-get-it! Youre a pig, albeit a ,ooo baby ... holy shit ... youre still a pig ... no way! Youre as bad as that%$$@@#$ Tripper!!! He halted dead in mid thrust ... Tripper?? You know of Sir Tripper?? and Sir Isyll??