For the Love of Tomeri...(23June2004)

[crater]

...any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely intentional.

 

[simmo]

Part 23 Worthy Opponents

chapter 1 Aggemam the Destroyer

Caleb sat on the edge of the cart polishing his hammer, thinking about what powers might lie dormant inside it. There were dwarven runes on the side of the hammer that Littleby had explained to him spelled out the name Aggemam the Destroyer.

The earth genasi stood up from the wooden cart and walked a couple of hundred feet away. Hefting the large hammer over his head he swung it around and let go. The weapon sailed through the air, spinning as it went and when it had gone some distance it flew back to his hand completing a large arc.

Caleb practised throwing the hammer numerous times using his mephit followers to determine its range and accuracy. Just after he'd thrown it for the umpteenth time he heard a mental voice say stop that in a peeved tone. Caleb pondered who the source off the voice might be and almost missed catching it as the hammer returned. He shrugged his shoulder and thought: I WILL NOT HAVE THE MEPHITS TELL ME WHAT TO DO.

When he next threw the hammer it spun through the air just as it had all the other times before, but this time it did not return. Instead it hung suspended in the air with the shaft pointing straight down. It looked as if someone invisible might have caught it before it could return.

Caleb walked over to it slowly and cautiously, glancing side-ways at his mephits to check that there were not playing any tricks on him. When he approached the hammer, he tried to move it from the place where it hung in the air and after some effort he managed to get it unstuck.

I am Aggemam the Destroyer, a voice echoed in the earth genasi's cavernous skull. It's tone was angry and had a curious accent. I will be treated with respect!

“SORRY.” Caleb replied aloud. “I DID NOT KNOW THAT YOU COULD THINK. SOMETIMES I'M NOT SURE THAT EVEN I CAN THINK.” The earth genasi paused to let the thought settle in his mind. “WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU?”

Well, if you are going to throw me then make sure that the target is worthwhile. Caleb had been trying to figure out what the accent might be that belonged to the voice projecting from the hammer. When he later described it to Littleby, the scholar had replied obscurely with the word 'Danish'.

“RIGHT,” Caleb replied. He slowly looked around for some targets to practise with. “MEPHITS!”

These creatures are beneath me. Aggemam chuckled at the thought of splattering the annoying creatures. However, as a legendary weapon it had a reputation to maintain and destroying minor elemental pests was not something to brag about. I want worthy opponents.

“VERY WELL.” Caleb looked around again for something to throw at and his gaze rested on a nondescript outcropping of rock. “ANDREW CAN YOU JUST GO AND STAND OVER THERE PLEASE?”

Andrew was silent for a few moments, weighing up what Caleb might be up to. “Alright,” he said as he called the earth genasi's bluff.

“Odds are three to one he'll survive,” the ooze mephit whispered.

“Twenty five to one that he'll miss,” the earth mephit replied who had never got to grips with how the whole numbers thing worked in the betting game. The mineral mephit pulled out some coins from his small satchel and passed them to the ooze mephit.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY WORTHY OPPONENTS?” Caleb asked wondering if nondescript gentleman adventurers were included in that category.

Glorious battle. Opponents worthy of being struck down by my might. Aggemam's voice sang with the promise of epic battles, of immense armies clashing in a conflict that would determine the fate of empires and have Aggemam at the centre of the melee.

“RIGHT, I CAN'T THINK OF ANY RIGHT NOW.” Caleb lowered the hammer and Andrew resumed his seat on a nearby rock, watching another caravan following the path that the modrons had taken. “THIS LOT ARE ALL A BIT FEEBLE,” Caleb stated apologetically.

Yes so I've noticed, the hammer agreed. It sighed mentally, feeling weary and somewhat let down. You will do as a wielder for now.

“AHA, I UNDERSTAND THAT THIS IS QUITE A PRIVILEGE FOR YOU," Caleb's laughter thundered like an avalanche and was accompanied by the cackling of his mephits. Some of the other laughed as well, confirming the earth genasi's suspicion that they'd been included in the non-vocalised side of the conversation.

I shouldn't complain considering that I've been in the arms of a STONE dwarf for centuries. The hammer muttered despondently. Having remained stationary for so long was almost more that it could bear and it longed to strike thunderously in to an opponent that was worthy of receiving the punishment that it could deal out.

“YES, IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO SPENT THE NEXT FEW CENTURIES IN THE ARMS OF A STONE DWARF – RESPECT IS A TWO-WAY STREET MATEY.” The earth genasi had yet to make up his mind about the hammer being able to talk and that it might be intelligent. However, he was certain about the fact that he did not need more companions who made snide comments and complained a lot.

OK, let's come to an agreement. The hammer still sounded weary but not as down-beat as before. I'll help you, if you help me to find a shield.

“THAT'S EASY, THERE'S ONE OVER THERE.” Caleb pointed with the hammer at a nearby spherical object and then realised that it was a boulder. For a moment he realised that the hammer might not be able to see or sense the rock in any case, but then dismissed the thought.

“Unfortunately I have not memorized that spell today.” Littleby started laughing but change it to a cough when he saw Serena and Andrew staring at his pointedly.

“BUGGER,” Caleb said quietly, not particularly wanting to add any more quests to his already full log of quests. “WHAT KIND OF SHIELD?”

A legendary shield called Tejali. The hammer's voice rose as it sang the name.

“THE JELLY?” the earth genasi asked.

Once we are reunited we would become more powerful that you could ever hope for. Aggemam went on, ignoring its wielder's question. Either Caleb was joking or simply too slow on the uptake.

“YES, I WAS RATHER HOPING THAT *I* WOULD BECOME MORE POWERFUL THAN I COULD HAVE HOPED FOR.” Caleb thumped the shaft of the hammer against the ground as he put the emphasis on the word 'I'.

Of course, Aggemam replied quickly. *You* would be more powerful than you could ever hope for.

“I DON'T KNOW,” Caleb shrugged, his thoughts turning ponderously towards the idea of defeating one of the elemental princes. “I HAVE RATHER BIG HOPES.”

How big? The hammer asked enthusiastically. Now its wielder was beginning to sound a more promising prospect.

“BIGGER THAN THE TWO OF US,” Caleb stated flatly.

There would be three of us. Aggemam pointed out. The earth genasi's mind was filled with the image of himself standing as tall as a storm giant on a mound of fallen foes. His skin was grey and strong as granite. In one hand he wielded Aggemam the Destroyer and on his other arm was a magnificent shield, beautifully inlaid with gems and runic carvings around the outer edge.

“I DON'T KNOW.” Caleb shook his head and the mental image cleared like fog in the morning sun. “SHIELDS ARE FOR GIRLS AND SISSIES.”

Yes she is. The hammer responded longingly.

“OH. WELL IN THAT CASE IT IS OK.” The earth genasi smiled thinking that the hammer sounded like it might actually be alright. The first impression that he'd got from it had not been that favourable, but he was slowly coming around to the idea that it might be useful having a thinking weapon that could respond quickly to the changing circumstances in a fight.

I'm glad that's settled. The hammer thrummed with power and the runes crackled with energy.

“I WILL USE YOU TO SMITE DOWN MY ENEMIES...” Caleb said slowly, turning the thought over in his head carefully. “WHEN THEY TURN UP OF COURSE.”

“IF they turn up,” Andrew quipped.

“QUITE FRANKLY I'M NOT SURE WHO THEY ARE. ANY GUIDANCE FROM YOU WOULD BE APPRECIATED.” The fight at the Rendering works had been invigorating Caleb thought. But when it came to more complex battles of words he felt that Littleby or another might be better equipped to deal with it.

I'll give you a few words of advice when the time is right. Aggemam reassured its wielder in his strong Danish accent. In the mean time let's practise. The hammer continued to thrum with energy. When Caleb threw it in the air it shot out of his hand as if launched by a ballista.

“WELL OK THEN,” Caleb shouted jubilantly in agreement. “MEPHITS!”

 

[simmo]

chapter 2 The modron speaks

Bored with watching Caleb throw his hammer and Littleby studying his books, Serena clutched her locked and entered her Garden. As soon as she'd left Andrew muttered quietly: “Every time that she gets a free minute she goes off to talk to her dead father.”

Suddenly there was a screeching sound from the cart that sounded like metal being torn asunder. The partially disassembled modron that had been lying dormant with its eyes closed under a blanket thrashed around. One of its arms was missing and its crumpled wings beat ineffectually. It looked like a wind-up bird that had been smashed as it was feebly trying to take flight again.

“Searching. Searching.” It stated in a flat, metallic mono-tone voice that was just like all the other modron voices that they'd hear. It was speaking in modron and Littleby tried to translate it as best as he could for the others.

“Parameters incomplete. Must find. Cannot understand, error error. Unloading arm.” Just as suddenly as it had leapt in to action the modron ceased all movement. It slowly opened its eyes again and gazed far away. The companions could hear gears rattling inside and other pieces of broken machinery trying to work.

“Must locate item, several feet in length. Other dimensions unknown. Error, error. Abort.” For the first time since the companions had come across the bizarre creatures that originated from Mechanus, the plane of Ultimate Law, they had found a modron that actually sounded a little bit emotional. There was just the tiniest hint of longing in its voice and they stared at the broken creature in amazement.

Caleb and Littleby decided to tinker with modron. The earth genasi pulled out some artisans tools from his belt pouches and laid them out on the floor. Littleby took out a small ancient tome with spidery writing inside and the two worked side-by-side to get the creature repaired.

It was a strange experience for the both of them as it felt like it was somewhere between metal-working and surgery. Black oily fluids dripped out of the creature's wounds and some of the gears had become bent out of shape. There were so many tiny parts inside that they were not sure whether they should touch or not that it took them a long time to get the broken modron patched up. After several long hours of pain-staking work they had managed to keep the creature alive and repair some of the damage that the Tacharim researchers had inflicted upon it.

Whilst Littleby was chanting softly from his tome and sowing up a puncture near one of the large creature's eyes. Caleb was busy hammering away at some other fine metal parts that he'd salvaged. After the dwarven scholar had finished closing the wound and wiping his hands to remove the greasy black fluid that stained his finger and nails – he saw that the earth genasi was crafting a new arm for the modron.

“Unknown specified item, three feet in length.” The creature said suddenly, becoming aware again as it recovered from the surgery and repairs performed on it.

“Data request. Uh...” Littleby tried to adjust his thinking to mimic that of the modron. Speaking in modron felt like his mind was being pushed through a sieve and gave him a dull head-ache at the back of his mind. Never the less he continued as he was aware that the creature contained valuable knowledge. ”Unspecified item. Explain. Data requested. End package.”

“Ack. Ack. Syn-ack. Unspecified packet size.” The creature closed its eyes as it processed the request and considered how best to answer the question with what fragments it had recovered from its damaged mind. “Item requested several feet in length. Adorned with skull. Contains great, great power.”

“Explain where abouts location of stated, end packet.” Littleby asked eagerly. The others laughed at Littleby's question when he translated it for them, but he ignored them – intent on what the modron had to say.

“Packet received. Unknown specification of location of item. Searching, searching.” The modron's monocle slowly descended to cover its right eye, making it seem even bigger and disproportionate to the rest of its face. They boxy creature flexed each of the fingers on its remaining hands and then proceeded to flex each of its toes as well. ”Not recognised. Arcadia, negative. Mount Celestia, negative. Bytopia, gnome. Elysium, negative. Outlands traversal incomplete.”

“Explain requirement and purpose for item.” Littleby tried to phrase the question as best as he could, but he was reaching the limit of his knowledge of the modron language and his head-ache was getting worse.

“Packet received. Insufficient information. Orders, orders, cannot compute.” The monocle rose from the creature's eyes. It's five fingers and ten toes clicked in a complex pattern that sounded almost musical and a grin crept across the edge's of the creature's wide mouth.

“End packet,” the dwarven scholar sighed and rubbed the back of his head.

“Session terminated.” The modron's finger and towns stopped moving abruptly. It closed it eyes and lay perfectly still.

“That was interesting,” the dwarven scholar stated in Common. He quickly recapped to the others what his conversation with the creature in the modron language had been about.

 

[simmo]

chapter 3 Armed with a wand

“I DID NOT REALISE THAT HE WANTED AN ARM WITH A SKULL ON THE END. WHAT USE IS THAT?” Caleb threw arm away the arm that he'd finished crafting. “YOU CAN'T EVEN GRIP WITH A SKULL."

“No, you don't understand Caleb.” Serena interrupted him. “That is what the modrons are after.”

“WHAT, THE MODRONS ARE AFTER AN ARM FOR THIS GUY?” Caleb asked, getting completely the wrong idea. Serena narrowed her eyes and tried to work out if the earth genasi was joking or not. Her intuition told her that Caleb was being entirely serious.

“No,“ she replied flatly.

“BUT HE DID NOT EVEN LOSE IT UNTIL AFTER THEY HAD LEFT,” Caleb pointed out slowly. He walked over to the newly crafted arm that he'd discarded and studied it for awhile.

“Never mind,” the seer said quietly as she shook her head.

“Now what would they want that for?” Littleby's mind was racing as it tried to figure out what the modron had been referring to. He quickly went over the conversation again in his mind in order to check that he'd not misunderstood anything that it had said in its strange tongue.

“HEY I'VE JUST HAD A GREAT IDEA. THIS MODRON ARM SOUNDS A BIT LIKE THE WAND OF ORCUS, DOESN'T IT. WHAT A STRANGE COINCIDENCE?” Caleb shrugged his shoulders as he dismissed the though and turned his attention back to the modron. “ANYWAY, LET ME PUT THIS ARM BACK ON.”

“Wand of Orcus?” Serena asked with her voice rising. She stared hard at Caleb and came to the conclusion that the earth genasi was either joking or knew much more that he let others think that he did.

“He gets there in his own time,” the dwarven scholar said with a benign smile. Andrew lent forward as he was curious to find out more about the mysterious wand as well and then he lent back slowly so as not to let the others see his sudden interest.

“If it's several feet long, doesn't it sound more like a staff or a sword?” Serena was also curious to find out more about what Caleb had called the wand and decided to solicit more information from her friends in an indirect manner.

“It sounds like a very big thing's wand to me,” Littleby hinted cryptically. The dwarf stroked his beard and Serena could not tell if he was hiding a smile behind his hand or not.

“IT IS MORE OF A KIND OF A... BIG THING.” Caleb struggled to properly express his thoughts and felt somewhat self-conscious now that he'd become the centre of attention in a very serious conversation. “RATHER THAN A... LITTLE THING.” He waved his arms around trying to illustrating his point but was rewarded with puzzled and confused looks from the others. Only the mephits clapped quietly in appreciation of their master's genius and mastery of obscure body-language.

“YOU CAN CLOUT THEM WITH IT. THUS ENSURING THAT EVEN IF THEY SURVIVE CONTACT WITH THE WAND THEY HAVE THEIR BRAINS BASHED OUT.” The earth genasi smirked as he considered what he remembered about the wand. “IN FACT IT HAS NO MAGICAL POWER AT ALL, IT'S JUST A REALLY POWERFUL MACE.”

“Is that what it is, a mace?” Serena still did not feel as if she had any better understanding of what this mysterious 'wand of orcus' might look like.

“IT IS MORE LIKE A ROD THAN A WAND,” Caleb clarified. “I READ THIS IN THE ARCANE PASSAGES,” he added quickly.

“That you read intensively and frequently?” Serena asked sceptically. She shook her head in resignation and looked at the dwarven scholar for more information.

The earth genasi paused as if caught off-guard. He asked himself silently WHY DID I SAY THAT? as he tried to remember where he'd come across the information regarding the wand. A blurry memory of riding with an old man on a wagon through Elysium and a flying ship rolled through his mind. The memory was accompanied with the faint echo of the old man's strong voice telling him a great deal of detail about the wand and then finishing off by admonishing him to forget about it for awhile.

“Caleb is quite correct, this item does fit the description.” The dwarven scholar confirmed. “A similar item has just turned up in a very nice location indeed. The para-elemental plane of ooze. In the possession of one Baron Bwimb.”

“SWEET TOMERI. BWIMB!” The earth genasi exclaimed. “THAT'S A FAMILIAR NAME.”

Littleby rattled off Bwimb's titles and Caleb nodded his head. He spat in disgust at the mention of the name and its accompanying titles as he was clearly unimpressed by any of them.

The earth genasi had heard of the upstart ooze sprite that claimed lordship over the House of Chambered Madness, otherwise known to primes as the para-elemental plane of Ooze. Neither the Marid who inhabited the Endless Ocean or the Dao who resided within the Dismal Delve cared enough about the plane of Ooze to challenge Baron Bwimb or his preposterous claims.

Ooze mephit, worms and other refuse littered the plane that many scholars considered to reside between Elemental planes of Water and Earth. These same scholars and others used the plane as a dumping ground, even going so far as to strand the odd enemy there as well. Some even provided these outcasts with magical means to survive without food or drink and hence the name for the plane was commonly known by planars as 'the House of Chambered Madness'.

The earth genasi shared his knowledge with the others and brief discussion ensued about how they could reach the para-elemental plane of ooze. Serena asked Zakar if he knew of any portals to that place and the hound archon shook his head with a small sigh of relief. Andrew was asked to keep a look-out for any portal nearby as being a planar he was able to see their outline, but he pointed out that without magical aid he could not determine what lay on the other side of any portals.

“Well if we can get back to Sigil, to come back to the portals, there's thousands of them lying around all over the place in the Hive.” Littleby suggested with what might have been a slight grimace or a bemused grin. “Just find a big one and roll up your trousers.”

 

[simmo]

chapter 4 Modron Madness

“WELL LET'S GET BACK TO SIGIL THEN,” Caleb stated having heard the first good suggestion all afternoon.

“What are we going to do with our modron friend here?” The dwarven scholar enquired. There was still a small leak of black oily fluid from one of its wounds and no sounds of gears, levers or ratchet could be heard from within.

“WELL I THINK THAT WE SHOULD INTERROGATE HIM AND MAKE HIM TALK,” Caleb said without a trace of a smile.

“I think that he has given us all that he is capable off,” Andrew commented. He'd watched the start of the repairs on the modron but had turned away after awhile. Perhaps it was the sight of the modron innards or something else that had caused him to walk away.

“WHAT IF WE SLAPPED HIM AROUND A BIT?” Caleb asked, trying to figure out what Andrew's motivation was.

“Then he would be a bit slapped around,” Andrew replied and gave nothing away about his feelings or his thoughts.

“I don't really fancy explaining to the modrons where we found him.” The dwarven scholar coughed and tried to phrase his suggestion carefully so as not to offend anyone. “So perhaps we could just arrange for him to be found?”

“Leave him in the path of the modron march?” Andrew asked incredulously. He'd seen the destruction that the modrons were capable of and had a brief mental image of the modrons either uncaringly trampling it in to the ground or deliberately destroying the damaged creature that appeared to have become a rogue.

“Yes,” Littleby confirmed. He saw that Andrew was not overly keen on the idea and tried a different approach. “So anyone feel up to explaining this to the modrons?”

“No,” Andrew responded conceding the point that the dwarven scholar was trying to make. All that he wanted to do was get back to Sigil, but he did not want to see the modron needlessly destroyed.

“SURELY THEY WOULD UNDERSTAND,” the earth genasi ventured. He'd spent quite a bit of time and effort patching up the strange creature and felt that it was a waste if they were not able to return it to the great modron march.

“It would take a very long time to get there,” Littleby stated referring to the fact that any conversation with a modron is a long and tedious exercise. Having to explain to the creatures of regimented law about the Tacharim, the Rendering works and why the adventurers had rescued the captive modrons was more that Littleby's patience was capable off.

“MAYBE WE COULD TAKE HIM WITH US. LOOK I HAVE FIXED HIM UP ALMOST AS GOOD AS NEW.” Caleb was reluctant to leave the behind or to place it in the path of the marching modrons. He gave it an angry kick with his large metal boot as he was frustrated by the fact that it had shut down again.

Amazingly the creature came to life and sat up straight. Caleb stared at in surprise and Andrew took a step back. It's eyes popped open and gears, springs and levers could be heard moving inside it boxy body. The modron flexed each of its ten fingers, ten toes and two wings. It rolled its eyes and moved it mouth in a series of incomprehensible expressions. This bizarre display was accompanied by whirring, clicking and droning sounds that emanated from within the creature.

“Instructions. Require instructions.” The modron stated in Common as it looked around and examined the companions, the cart, a fly nearby and everything else in minute detail. Its monocle descended to cover its large right eye and it made a high pitched whirring sound as the lens rotated in place.

“I AM YOUR MASTER,” Caleb said as he loomed over the seated modron.

“No, no” Andrew said very quietly under his breath.

“What is this *I* you speak off?” The modron's question held just a tiny hint of curiosity, but that was far more than any of the questions that other modrons had asked the companions.

“BUGGER,” the earth genasi muttered. Andrew sighed in relief, glad that Caleb had not gone through with trying to make the modron his personal servant.

“Bugger. Designation Bugger. *I*. I am. I am Bugger. Need more information.” The creature pointed at itself as it said the word *I*, clearly identifying itself as an individual. Then the modron looked up at Caleb and blinked several times. It tried to mimic the earth genasi's facial expressions and instead looked like a child's caricature.

“Well done Caleb, you gave it a name.” Serena laughed at the creature's attempts to mimic Caleb.

“Require more information. Require instructions.” The modron turned towards the heart seer of Tomeri and silently tried to imitate the gentle laughter that it had heard. It still looked very strange, but not quite as alien as it had before.

“Carry on Caleb,” the dwarven scholar said encouragingly. “You're doing great.” He was bemused by the fact that he and Caleb had somehow managed to make the modron go rogue and was busy scribbling down all of the days events in minute detail. He wrote in great length about the operation to save the modron's life and where Caleb kicked it later on.

“NOW LOOK HERE YOUNG MAN, PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER.” The mephits burst out laughing and jeered at the modron, but their Master pushed them aside.

“Young Man. All parts are together. All parts are not in the correct position that they should be.” Suddenly the newly affixed arm shifted upwards so that it was level with the other arm. Then the modron flexed its broken wings again and this time they appeared to be more functional and intact. A strange chirping sound came from within the modron as it shuffled from one foot to the other and twirled around.

“Engaging internal repairs.” The companions were astonished to see that it was genuinely smiling and not mimicking one of them.

“THAT'S GOOD,” Caleb said, not really being certain of what the modron meant. “INTERNAL AFFAIRS IS GOOD.”

Once the boxy creature had finished its shuffling dance-like moves that were accompanied by clicking fingers, whirring monocles and snapping wings it turned to stare admiringly at Caleb.

“Caleb the Great. Instructing Bugger. *I*. I Bugger. Require purpose.”

“He's fantastic, he'll have to come with us.” Littleby stated with a big grin. He stroked his beard as he admired what he'd just witnessed.

“YOUR PURPOSE IS TO SERVE US,” Caleb began but he was interrupted by Bugger.

“Serve. *I*. Serve and I conflict.” The modron repeated the exact same silent laughter that it had done before.

“AND HELP US TO RETRIEVE A LARGE ROD WITH A SKULL ON THE END OF IT,” Caleb finished his sentence and look rather worriedly at the boxy creature's continued bizarre behaviour. First a talking magical hammer and now a dancing modron. The earth genasi remembered the Rule of Three and wondered what other unusual occurrence would befall him.

“Skull unknown. Rod unknown. Serve and I unknown.” for a brief moment it ceased all movement and just as abruptly carried on again. ”I Bugger chose to follow Caleb the Great. Require additional information.”

“Fantastic, it made a choice of its own!” The dwarven scholar exclaimed delighted at having witnessed a modron make an independent decision that was not influenced by a command from a modron of superior rank. He quickly began scribbling more notes and thought about presenting a paper to the Guvners when he got back to Sigil.

“Master,” the ooze mephit whined as it pawed at Caleb's large metal boots. “Master, you've got another follower.”

“Three mephits and Bugger the modron,” Andrew stated and everyone laughed. Except for the modron whose mouth opened in a rictus grin and froze in place. Its wings bobbed as if its shoulders were shaking slightly, but no one was sure of exactly what the creature was trying to do.

“OH NO,” Caleb said as he slapped his fore-head.

 

[simmo]

chapter 5 The technical term is a fluted shaft / Wand of Orcus

“Praise be your wisdom and your glory,” the mineral mephit said. Its screeching voice sounded like broken pottery being dragged against a black board.

“Oh Master, this is a fortuitous day indeed.” The mephit said in its hollow sounding voice. “Only you could have turned a modron rogue.”

“Only one as mighty as you could have done such a thing Master. With the great boot of power.” The ooze mephit continued to paw at the large boot.

“Oh, we're overwhelmed Master.” The mineral mephit approached Caleb carefully and also began to fawn over his boots. “Can I please touch the boot of power?”

“YES, COME HERE AND I'LL DEMONSTRATE IT.”

“Me first Master!” the earth mephit shouted as it rushed forwards. All three mephits got booted by their Master and tumbled through the air to land some distance away.

“Do let me know when you have another spot free for a follower,” Littleby chuckled. “I quite fancy the job.”

“Can't compute. Can't transmute. Sorry, it just doesn't seem to work for me.” The ooze mephits shrugged his shoulders as it tried to imitate the flat mono-tone voice of the modron. It's slime bubble wings beat above its head as it leapt up in to the air to brush off the dust from being kicked by Caleb.

“Need more information. Need more gems. Oops.” The mineral mephit tried it as well and gave up. As it flew up in to the air it collided purposefully with the ooze mephit, knocking it out of the air “Is it working for you?”

“No,” the earth mephits replied despondently. “I just got a sore bum.”

“He touched me,” the ooze mephit said as it crawled back towards Caleb. “Master, Master. It would take far too much of your precious time to instruct this stupid creature in the mysteries of the Multiverse. Perhaps we could help you with this Master?”

“Magic missiles standing by Caleb,” Littleby muttered quietly, offering to blast the mephits out of existence if his friend was willing.

“It is such a precious little follower of you.” The ooze mephit continued in its whining and pitiful tone. “Surely you would want it instructed well, wouldn't you Master?”

“YES I WOULD.” Caleb shook his foot and eventually the ooze mephit let go when he threatened to stamp on it. “WHICH IS WHY I AM ASSIGNING THE JOB THE SOMEONE ELSE.”

“Huh! I told you, there's a fourth favoured mephit.” The mineral mephit stuck its tongue out at the other mephits and the modron did the same. It had been watching the mephits every move and was studying them intently.

“We will not instruct it, but we will look after it.” The earth mephits chuckled at the cleverness of his suggestion.

“YES, WELL. I WANT YOU TO GIVE IT A GOOD POLISH AND PAINT JOB.” Caleb turned his back on them and sighed at his misfortune of being stuck with mephits. If only he could have gotten some genuine elemental followers instead.

“Oh yes Master. We're master artisans. We'll have it shiny and new in the morning.” The mineral mephit took out an expensive silk cloth from its small satchel and began to polish the modron's metal surface.

“Bet you wish it never went rogue,” Littleby said laughing softly.

“I wish that it had never been built,” Serena said. She was not very impressed with the modron and had little desire to see it hanging around.

“IT MAY BE QUITE USEFUL TO US AS IT KNOWS WHAT THE WAND OF ORCUS LOOKS LIKE. FOR I DO NOT KNOW.” Caleb felt another memory cascade through his thoughts, like a boulder bouncing down the side of a mountain. Once again he could hear the old man's voice and feel the wooden seat of the wagon as he travelled through Elysium with Agar the merchant. “ACTUALLY I DO KNOW. I REMEMBER NOW, OH BUTTERBRAIN. IT WAS SAID TO BE AS TALL AS MY LEG.”

“Who exactly said that?” Littleby asked, suspicious about how Caleb had come to find out this knowledge. He weighed up the possibility that his friend might be under the effects of a charm or other enchantment, but he felt no powerful dwoeners nearby. “I think that the words that you are looking for is about three feet.”

“YES THAT'S IT. MADE OF PUREST BLACK IRON.... AH.” The earth genasi was lost in the reverie of the thought of pure black iron and forgot about the conversation and his friends for awhile. “YES ANYWAY IT IS SAID TO BE TIPPED BY A HUMAN SKULL OF GREAT SIZE. HE WAS A GREAT CHAMPION OF HUMANITY SENT TO SLAY ORCUS. BUT OBVIOUSLY HE DID NOT MAKE IT. HA HA HA.” The mephits laughed halfheartedly after a moments pause, but none of the other companions did. “SET WITH TWO BLACK DIAMONDS IN THE EYE-SOCKETS AND A NOBBLY BIT ON THE END.”

“That matches almost exactly my description,” Littleby confirmed who'd read about the wand in a ancient small tome that he'd acquired recently.

“IT HAS A THIN GROOVE RUNNING DOWN THE SIDE TO ALLOW THE BLOOD TO RUN DOWN ON TO THE HAND OF THE USER.” Caleb paused once again to admire the memory of the item that old man had described. Somehow he was able to picture it exactly in his mind as if he had seen it himself or a magical phantasm that looked just like it.

“The technical term is a fluted shaft,” Littleby pointed out.

“I'VE ALWAYS LIKED A FLUTED SHAFT,” Caleb's laughter rumbled softly as he began to polish Aggemam the Destroyer.

“This lovely three foot long staff of Orcus can be yours for only 99.95 jinks,” Andrew joked. He moved his hands as if showing off a three foot pole that was on sale in the Grand Bazaar in Sigil.

“OH BY THE WAY, IF YOU TOUCH IT THEN IT IS INSTANT DEATH.” Caleb stopped polishing his hammer and tried to think how he knew that piece of information. Shrugging his shoulders he continued to polish his hammer as the modron mimicked his actions and polished his other hammer.

“Thank you for mentioning this now,” Andrew said.

“MINOR POINT, BUT PROBABLY WORTH MENTIONING.” The earth genasi pointed to a spot that the modron had missed and realised that it was caused by the ooze mephit. He mentally commanded them to go elsewhere as they had done a reasonable job of cleaning the modron.

“What happens if you wear gloves?” Serena asked, curious to find out more about the wand of orcus.

“IT IS INSTANT DEATH, WITH GLOVES ON.” Caleb laughed at the thought of a smoking pair of gloves.

“Bugger,” Serena swore, forgetting to use 'Sweet Tomeri' instead.

 

[simmo]

chapter 6 Bad Memories

“Error. Error." The modron sputtered and rolled its eyes as its name was mentioned. "Recall data. Flushing buffers. Bugger. Bugger. Removing data, emptying cache.”

“Go on,” Littleby said as he stood behind the creature cupping his hands waiting for something to come out. He look at Caleb and they both realised that the creature was not referring to a recorder stone or other piece of physical memory.

“DON'T DUMP YOUR MEMORY!” the earth genasi commanded it.

“Bugger does not require memories. Memories will be overwritten. Tables will be removed.” The modrons eyes moved from side to side as if it was reading some invisible page line by line. It's eyebrows raised as it paused for a moment before continuing.

“Vocalise memories before dumping,” the dwarven scholar said in the modron language.

“Ending. Ending. Memory dump almost complete. Small portion completed. Memory dump halted at...” Suddenly the creature's voice changed. It became a deep and resonant voice that was filled with hatred and anger. The volume at which the modron spoke was low and yet it also conveyed a thunderous rage that caught the companions by surprise. “If you discover wand, do not touch with circlet. Circlet will negate. Wand and circlet must not come in to contact. Locate elves, black skinned, white haired. They must be brought back for questioning. Specific. They have no memory." The modron's voice returned to its normal flat mono-tone voice and its wings quivered slightly. "Error. Memory corrupt. Memory dump resumed.”

“EJECT MEMORY,” Caleb said getting the hang of how modrons appeared to communicate.

“Enter code-word,” Bugger replied.

“ENTERING CODE NOW,” Caleb muttered as he kicked it again.

“Vengeance,” the modron hissed in the same anger-filled voice that it had used previously as it kicked him back in the shins.

“OW,” the earth genasi was caught off-guard by the creatures actions and glared at his mephits who'd found the whole scene highly amusing.

“Bugger. Interested in experience. Wants to repeat. Will repeat.” The modron was about to swing its leg back for another kick when Caleb pushed it backwards.

“BUGGER, EXPERIENCE SOMETHING ELSE.” The earth genasi sighed in exasperation and got a 'I told you so' look from Littleby.

“Master, are sure that you would not like for us to take it off your hands?” the ooze mephit looked at the modron longingly.

“Your command will be taken in to consideration.” Bugger imitated Littleby stroking his beard.

“RIGHT," Caleb squatted down to look the creature in the eye and to make sure that he had its full attention. "I AM FEELING A LITTLE UNEASY ABOUT THIS.”

“Your unease. What is this feeling?" Bugger asked curiously. "Is this the feeling that you get when I kick you in the shins.”

“NO THAT IS PAIN. UNEASE IS LIKE ME SAYING TO YOU. MAYBE I'LL DE-PROGRAM YOU TOMORROW.” Caleb moved his hammer from hand to hand in order to emphasize his point.

The modron paused for several long moments as its machinery rattled inside. “Experiencing unease.”

“I FEEL UNEASY WHEN YOU SAY THAT YOU WILL CONSIDER MY REQUESTS. MAYBE YOU WOULD NOT NEED TO FEEL UNEASY IF YOU WOULD JUST OBEY THEM.” Caleb tried to sound more sympathetic, but still came across as quite intimidating.

“Does this mean that I am deprogramming you?” The modron asked as it tried to analyse what the exact parameters for feeling unease might be.

“NO THIS MEANS THAT NOBODY IS DE-PROGRAMMING ANYBODY.” Caleb stood up and felt like throwing his hands up in despair but he was not quite ready to give up yet.

“Very well. This is an understanding. I will not be de-programmed by you or the mephits. I will cease communicating with you and the mephits.”

“NOT FOR EVER, JUST FOR A FEW HOURS.” Caleb smiled, pleased that he seemed to finally be making progress.

“Very well. I will cease communicating with you and the mephits for a few hours.”

“THANK YOU.”

“That is fine. I have several functions to complete for the mephits.”

"THAT IS NOT FINE,” the earth genasi was about to walk away for a well deserved rest when he stopped in his tracks. He slowly turned towards his mephits who were busy scrambling away at a rapid pace.

“Experiencing unease,” Andrew joked mimicking the modron.

“I AM EXPERIENCING UNEASE. WHAT FUNCTIONS IN PARTICULAR?”

“I am not permitted to talk about this. Otherwise I face de-programming by the mephits.”

“YOU HAVE BEEN MISINFORMED. THE MEPHITS CANNOT DE-PROGRAM YOU.” Caleb glared at his mephits who were busy cowering behind some bushes. They were in the midst of a heated argument about what to do with an item called a 'modron maze' that they'd found and the earth genasi only heard snippets of their whispered conversation.

“Computing. Computing. This will take time to resolve. I will not complete functions, experience unease, de-program or communicate for the next few hours.” The modron closed its eyes and stood motionless.

“VERY WELL. MEANWHILE I AM OFF TO DE-PROGRAM THE MEPHITS.” Caleb picked up his hammer and began swinging it above his head. As it spun it made a whooshing sound that grew in volume and finally got the mephits attention.

Serena had returned from the Garden again and was busy looking through the items that they'd recovered from the former Anacharim base. Laid out in front of Littleby, Andrew and Serena were some magical bracers, a cloak, goggles that allowed to view things in incredible detail and numerous potions. They also found some slippers that allowed the wearer to lift themselves off the ground and a magical black dress that the dwarven scholar said contained abjuration and enchantment energies.

Serena was quite keen to try on the dress despite the fact that Caleb had a bad feeling about it. She went some distance away to try it on and came back looking absolutely stunning. The dress fit her perfectly and made her look like a queen who was beautiful and terrifying to behold. The dress was made of a fine material that did not have a single speck of dust on it and the pearls woven in to the dress glimmered in the light.

When she went in to the Garden to show off the new dress to Roxanne and the others, the seer realised that she was not wearing anything. As she quickly tried to cover herself up with her hands she felt that she was wearing her undergarments and saw that this was indeed true. Zakar raised an eyebrow at the strange behaviour of his mistress, but she disappeared quickly from the Garden and was once again wearing the magical black dress.

“It's really, really nice but.." Serena felt torn between keeping the dress on or changing back to her the blue dress that she'd been wearing before. "On the one hand it looks great but I don't necessarily want to turn up to the Garden naked. Zakar, why didn't the dress come to the Garden?”

"I do not know my Lady," The hound archon growled in reply. "I do not understand why it did not come with you.”

 

[simmo]

Part 24 She's got to have it

Serena stepped back from her Garden in to the wilderness that surrounded the gate-town of Faunel. She made sure that she was wearing her blue dress before she went over to where her companions were camped. The tangled roots of the trees and bushes, the thick carpet of leaves and towering trees were a stark contrast to the ordered Garden that she carried with her, with its clearly distinct regions. The area around Faunel was an untamed place and the huge swathe of destruction created the great modron march passing through, together with all the people following behind it, stood out like a giant eye-sore. The heart seer could see the flattened ground on the other hill where the creature of law had trampled flora and fauna alike to reach the gate in to the Beastlands.

When she got back to the others the seer explained her unusual experiences with the dress to see if they could shed any light on the strange goings on.

“So when you realised that you weren't wearing any... uh... coverings they appeared.” Andrew was puzzled by what Serena had told him and could not think of any immediate explanations.

“My underwear,” Serena clarified.

“Your underwear appeared when you realised that you weren't wearing any. So would it be possible to physically bring the dress over by thinking about it.” Andrew had heard some Serena talk about her Garden and how it was created by her, but it was sometimes quite confusing.

“I can try it,” the seer replied.

Serena entered the Garden again and checked all of her possessions. He crystal capacitor was there, her clothes were all intact, the fire dorje was tucked in to her belt and her third eye was safely inside a pouch for the moment. Sudden realisation dawned on her when she could not feel the psionic torc on her upper arm that she'd purchased in the Friendly Fiend shop in Sigil.

“Sweet Tomeri,” she exclaimed as she left the Garden. “A'kin.”

Littleby rummaged around in his packs and removed several scroll cases. He also pulled some out of the scroll bandolier that he had strapped to his chest. “Take a hold of this scroll, it is just a simple arcane scroll,” he said as he handed her a piece of parchment with silver ink.

“Did you get this from A'kin?” Serena asked whilst she carefully held the scroll away from her body.

“No this is one I created myself,” Littleby replied with a reassuring smile.

Whilst Serena disappeared and then reappeared again after a few moments, the others waited patiently. “Did you check it? Is it the one with arcane writing and magic glowing symbols?” Littleby asked eagerly.

“Yes, I checked it.” Serena was glad to hand back the scroll to Littleby and he carefully put it back inside a fine scroll case that was made off a hollowed out bone.

“Here's one that I bought from A'kin. Try that one.” This time he passed her another scroll. This one was similar to the one before, except for the fact that the parchment felt different to the touch.

“It seemed to work,” the seer told Littleby after she returned from the Garden yet again.

“Ah, well that does not appear to have worked.” The dwarven scholar shook his head in resignation and began to clear up his many scrolls.

“WHY DON'T YOU GO IN TO THE GARDEN WITH THE DRESS ON AND SEE IF YOU CAN SUMMON THE DRESS WITH THE POWER OF YOUR OWN MIND AS ANDREW SUGGESTED?” Caleb had watched with interest as the heart seer of Tomeri had disappeared and reappeared several times, but he was beginning to get bored with the whole affair and wanted to get it solved so that they could move on. No one had yet gone in to the gate-town of Faunel, not that there was much of a town anyway, but they needed to find out directions on how to get back to Sigil.

Cade meanwhile was busy convincing the workers that they'd brought along from the Rendering works that they should redeem themselves of some of the bad things that they had done for the Anacharim by helping to rebuild the city of Haven in Elysium. It took him awhile e jinks that they'd each been given by Andrew was sufficient payment and enough to get them to Haven, but eventually the men headed off towards the town of Ecstasy.

Watching his mistress enter and leave the Garden many times in under an hour, Zakar was not that bothered when she showed up again. This time she was in her underwear and not the blue dress that she'd worn before. He saw that his mistress was concentrating hard and did not wish to disturb her. Suddenly it appeared as if Serena was wearing a dress that looked remarkably similar to the one that the sorceress belonging to the Anakharim had worn but there were subtle differences.

The dress faded once again and the hound archon felt the mental summons of his mistress probing through the Garden like a fisherman casting his line as it touched upon her father and was then drawn back in. Zakar had felt that touch many times himself and was ever ready to answer its call with his life. This time however his mistress did not summon him and she left to talk to her human friends.

“ALL THE PEOPLE IN THE GARDEN ARE YOUR FRIENDS. YOUR FATHER PROBABLY SAW YOU IN THE BATH WHEN YOU WERE THREE.” Caleb was trying to explain to Serena that it was not such a bad thing if she turned up in the Garden in only her underwear. The seer shook her head in disagreement and thought that it might be too difficult to explain it to the slow thinking earth genasi. He was without a doubt very intelligent, it would simply take too long for the idea to sink in.

“There are random dead people wandering in,” Andrew pointed out with a slight smirk.

“I'm physiologically rather different to when I was three,” Serena explained to Caleb, strongly hinting at the fact that she looked very different now.

“REALLY?” the earth genasi replied in surprise. He had difficulty picturing Serena at the age of three. Were humans not carved out of rock full-sized when they were born?

“So was your Father at this point,” Andrew said somewhat cryptically.

“Yes, that's what men think,” the seer answered in an irritated tone. She sighed and washed her hands of the whole affair of trying to educate Andrew and Caleb about women. Although she suspected that the former knew a great deal more than the latter. Especially as Andrew had been very friendly with some priestesses of Tomeri during his visit to 34b Stonecutters Row.

“No I was referring to the not being alive bit,” Andrew explained. Serena gave him a dark stare and stormed off to sit against a large tree trunk on the other side of the small clearing.

Andrew shrugged and went back to watching some of the smaller caravans following the path of the modrons. He was amazed at how many people were trailing behind the marchers even though all the modrons had already passed through some time ago. Perhaps they were after opportunities to win wealth and fame he mused, or perhaps they were simply going along for the ride. He chuckled at the though of all of them trying to cross Limbo and shuddered at the thought of any of them trying to follow the modrons in the Lower planes and come out alive at the other end.

“I DON'T REALLY UNDERSTAND ABOUT WOMEN,” Caleb said to no one in particular.

“Master, would you like us to tell you about women?” the ooze mephit asked as if flew nearby. It's slimy wings made a strange sound as the creature flew around. As if someone was blowing bubbles underwater continuously. The odour trail that the creature left behind it was not very pleasant.

“NO I DON'T. I SUSPECT THAT YOU WILL NOT KNOW ANYTHING WORTH KNOWING.” Caleb laughed at the thought of being educated by three pesky elemental constructs and dismissed the idea that mephits had anything useful to say.

“Don't forget that everything they tell you,” Andrew reminded his travelling companion. “Bugger is listening,”

Upon hearing its name mentioned the modron increased the amount of information that it took in from its surroundings. The large round eyes opened and they began to scan from side to side, looking at everything in great detail. “I wish to know more about women.”

“WELL THAT IS A QUEST LASTING A WHOLE MILLENIA.” Caleb had spent some time trying to teach the creature even a few basic idea but it was very frustrating as he had to start from scratch whenever he began explaining something new. Teaching children was easier as they at least shared some frames of reference that they had in common.

“I have more than a millennia.” Bugger replied. ”Why does this female keep changing her clothing? Back and froth. Back and forth.”

“I DO NOT KNOW, BUGGER.” Caleb shrugged and patted the metallic creature on its flat head.

“This female seems to be made of chaos material.” The modron pointed out with a slight hint of panic in its voice.

 

[simmo]

Part 25 Something is revealed, first half

The dwarven scholar set off to the gate-town of Faunel to find out more about the portal nearby that was rumoured to lead to Sigil, the City of Doors. Littleby glanced up through the tall trees but he could not see the Spire as the leaves and branches obscured his view. He wondered why it was sometimes so difficult to get inside the city that was at the top of the Spire and others times much easier.

The light streamed through the canopy of the forest in beautiful rays that created pools of light on the forest floor. It was fairly slow progress for the dwarven scholar and he took to the sky to get to the town faster. As he flew over the tops of the trees he was able to admire the savage beauty of the land around him and the way that the wilderness constantly fought to swallow up the ruins of the town of Faunel. People living in the gate-town had cleared patches of forest and in the older clearings the trees and shrubs appeared to be marching back in to reclaim the land.

Spotting a clearing with a large caravan, several tents and temporary looking buildings inside it the dwarven scholar descended towards the ground. When his feet were firmly planted beneath him he looked up as he'd had a slight prickling sensation on the back of his neck whilst he'd been flying. Almost as if something had been watching him from above and had not been pleased with him flying around. The only other things that Littleby had seen in the skies above Faunel were birds and clouds.

Walking over to the caravan Littleby recognised it as one that belonged to the merchant Agar. He was about to walk away to find another encampment when he spotted a familiar figure eating lunch in one of the large tents.

“Littleby, it's a pleasure to see you again.” The halfling called Deus greeted his former travelling companion. They shook hands and the halfling invited the dwarf to join him in a luxurious and expensive looking meal that he was enjoying inside one of the large tents.

“Always good to see you Deus,” Littleby replied as he sat down on a large silk pillow. The servants working in the restaurant brought an extra wine glass and poured a generous portion. They then brought some honey-coated fruits and small animal shaped cakes.

Deus picked up one of the cakes and bit in to it eagerly. He closed his eyes to savour the flavour and aroma before continuing the conversation. “It's good that we met as I wanted to talk to you and I was just about to send a letter to Serena.”

“I might as well deliver it myself if you like,” Littleby offered.

“Thanks, that's marvellous.” Deus licked his fingers and reached for another of the delicious cakes. “I've not written it yet, but if you give me a moment then I'm sure that there's a clean napkin around here somewhere.”

“For you friend in Sigil?” the dwarf asked. He had not heard the end of Deus' sentence where he mentioned Serena and was rather perplexed as to whom the letter was for.

“No. For Serena,” the halfling clarified. “Is she around here somewhere?”

“She's just outside fixing her hair or something.” Littleby chose one of the cakes and found that they were indeed very tasty.

“I've been doing some research. Not that I've been authorised to do any research. But you know, you hear things.” The halfling lent back on his silk pillows and rummaged in his pack for his pipe. The servants came over and removed the cakes, re-filled the glasses and prepared to bring the next course.

“You don't really need an excuse to do any research Deus,” Littleby said by way of encouragement.

“And I've come across an interesting thing. I know where my father is.” The halflings tone was friendly and conversational as he dropped in the last bit of news almost as if it was a matter of no consequence.

Littleby sat for a moment in stunned silence and remembered to close his mouth so that his jaw was not hanging open in surprise. “That is interesting,” he replied in as conversational tone as he could manage.

“And I know how to find him,” Deus continued.

“More and more interesting.” Littleby watched as the servants brought several dishes with nuts, strange vegetables and glazed and roasted meats that made Deus' mouth water in anticipation.

“Unfortunately, it's somewhat inconvenient for me to go and see if I can get him back right now.” Deus took for himself a generous portion of the spicy drumsticks and glazed meats before he began piling green leaves around the edges of his plate. Satisfied that the arrangement looked appealing he then began to slowly enjoy his food.

“Are you serious, what possible business you have that could be more...” Littleby was lost for words and forgot about the food in front of him.. “What could be more important than getting him back?”

“Well, I'm working on another project that has to do with saving our world and it's all hush hush, I can't talk about it. Pass the mushroom will you please.” He took some small button shaped yellow mushrooms and popped them in his mouth. “Anyway, an enterprising fellow such as yourself could earn themselves a decent reward if they were to follow this lead and return my father to me.”

“But of course you father is residing in the same place that someone else is that you and I are both interested in.” The dwarven scholar glanced around at the other diners in the tent and wondered if any of them might be listening in. From the round about way that Deus was talking he understood that the halfling was being deliberately vague.

“Yes, well of course returning *him* - I can't offer you the reward for that. But I can pay you to get my father back.” The two men continued to dine in silence as a new bottle of wine was brought to the table. Deus had finished half the bottle by the time that Littleby had joined him, but the halfling did not appear to be in least bit intoxicated. Deus smiled and pointed at his ring. He made a series of hand motions that Littleby guessed meant 'it allows me to enjoy without getting drunk'.

“I have to say this Deus. We're going after Danster. If your father is in the same place then we'll bring him back. You don't have to pay us for that.”

“No.. Well, alright. I don't really like to owe favours but since you're buying me breakfast then what the hell.” The halfling shuffled over in his seat so that he could whisper to Littleby without the other diners overhearing them. The dwarf was not eating in any case and so did not have to set aside his food in order to shuffle closer as well. “There is a settlement on the World Ash called Crux that has a portal to a dead world called Ranais. If you travel through that then you get to a portal to to a fortress on the Negative Energy Plane.”

“Let me go over that again. On the World Ash, there is a town called Crux.” Littleby committed the names to memory and went over it again to make sure he had all the names correct.

“Yes. A small trading outpost, nothing really important.”

“Crux has a gateway to Ranais. What kind of place it that?”

“Um, I think that it might be a world or a demi-plane. But it's a dead one regardless, there's no one there.”

“And in this dead place there is a gateway to Negation?”

“Yes.”

“And how did you come by this information?”

“I could tell you...” Deus left the unspoken part of the expression hanging in the air.

“But you'd have to kill me,” Littleby completed the phrase and nodded his head in understanding.

“I'd have to what? Sorry but I was just enjoying this delicious fruit.” Deus finished chomping his way through a great slice of water melon. It was a bright red colour, sparkled with flavour and pips went flying every direction as the halfling ate the piece of fruit with gusto.

“You'd have to kill me,” the dwarf said again.

“Well I wouldn't like to,” Deus said and shrugged his shoulders apologetically. “The place is called Tcian Sumere.”

Again the dwarven scholar committed the name to memory and told himself that he'd have to research the name as son as he got back to Sigil. “Deus, who is keeping them there?“

“I don't know. Which is rather worrying.” The halfling picked up a serviette and was about to use it to wipe his mouth when he realised that it had the letter for Serena written on it. Instead he used the corner of the table cloth. “That leads me to believe that not all of this information is accurate.”

“Indeed. Now obviously you cannot tell me where this information came from, but if I was to say: Agar. Would I be warm or cold?”

“I don't know. How do you feel when you say Agar?” Deus looked somewhat perplexed and was doing a good job of seeming genuinely confused.

“I was hoping that you could tell me. How do *you* feel when I say Agar, that is more the question?”

“Littleby I like you a lot, but I do not want to feel you right now. I'm having breakfast.”

“Indeed you are. More broth?”

“Thanks. Bring some more of those tarts over would you please?”

There was another long pause in the conversation. The halfling and dwarf sat on the silken pillows in the tent enjoying their drinks. Several of the other diners got up and left, whilst new arrivals were being escorted to the places in the tent where they could partake in the meal.

“I'm highly dubious about this information that you have given me,” Littleby confessed.

“So am I. That is why I m paying you to go.”

Littleby laughed heartedly. “Once more, I respect your honesty.”

“I'm glad,” the halfling replied. This time there was no doubt that he was being completely honest.

“Now, I'm going to go away and look in to this.”

“As you should.”

“Where are you going to be in the near future? Following the march?”

“Yes, following the march. I'm not going though the Beastlands personally as I don't fancy changing whilst on the plane. So I'll meet them when they come out the other end and catch up in Sylvania.”

“Right.”

“Have you seen Malkir recently?” Deus was looking around for another napkin to write a letter on, but was not having much luck finding a clean one.

“Uh, he ran off with an old weasily guy. Somebody who was going to tell him who he is, or find out who he is.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“Limbo I think.”

“That's interesting. Very interesting, but never mind.” This time it was Deus' turn to make a metal note of the information that he'd been told and commit it to memory. A few of the things that had been bothering him fell in to place and he tried not to let his sudden comprehension be reflected on his face. “You've heard about this thing where they shape Chaos matter right?”

“I thought that the form of Limbo was dependent on the mind of the perceiver.” Littleby said.

“Apparently some people can take Chaos matter out of the plane. There is a tavern in Sigil where Githzerai go, have drinks and mental conversation as well as shaping Chaos matter in the centre of the tavern.” Deus chuckled at the memory of spending an evening in the Face of Gith tavern. “Not very talkative. Service is OK, but I would not recommend the green pudding though.”

“Not big on foreign muck myself,” the dwarven scholar said as he set his ion stone of sustenance orbiting his head.

 

[simmo]

Part 26 Reading the Past

The heart seer of Tomeri draped the beautiful black magical dress over her arms and let the soft, silky material slip between her fingers. It was a pleasant sensation and the seer felt that her confidence was higher when she wore the garment. Even thinking about it made her want to put it on and her intuition told her that she would probably be able to alter the dress if she wanted to.

Closing her eyes and focusing her gaze inwards, Serena took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. She repeated this several times as she focused her mind on the dress. Tracers from her mind reached out towards the dress and Serena felt the world fall away as she delved in to the origins of the item. In her minds eye another world appeared.

The room was dark with no lit candles in the chandelier on the ceiling. Silk sheets covered the bed under which lay a prone figure who appeared to be in a deep slumber. A golden goblet that had either been knocked over or dropped on the ground lay next to the bed and the remaining liquid had soaked in to the carpet. The room stank of rich perfume and spilled wine that was almost overpowering.

In the underground temple the clergy preferred to keep many of the rooms and corridors barely lit, thereby enhancing the atmosphere of romance and intrigue of the place as well as making it easier to meet for secret liaisons to hatch plans for good or for ill. A lone figure snuck quietly as a mouse along the edge of the wall down the corridor and paused every so often to listen for anyone approaching.

The figure stopped part way down the corridor and slowly inserted a key in to the lock. The long black cloak that the figure wore to conceal her movements slipped, revealing a beautiful red haired young woman with a haughty bearing. She quickly pulled the cloak over herself and once again blended in to the shadows.

As the woman noiselessly slipped in to the room she pulled out a scarf and wrapped it around her face so that she would not pass out from the fumes. She'd been in the room a few hours earlier pretending to be drinking with the occupant of the room in order to make sure that the other woman consumed the drugged wine. Unfortunately a magical perfume bottle had broken as the other woman passed out, forcing the would-be-thief to depart. Now that some hours had passed the woman had returned in order to complete her search for the magical dress undisturbed.

The owner and creator of the dress lay fast asleep in a drug induced slumber and was completely oblivious to the under-priestess rummaging through her things to locate the dress. The woman in the bed was older than the one moving around and her skin was a lot darker in comparison. Her hair was a rich brown colour that shone in the sunlight and brought her much attention from male admirers.

She'd originally woven the dress and imbued it with magic in a temple far in the desert where a hallowed black marble altar lay that was watched over by a beautifully carved cat-headed statue. The creator of the dress had spent three weeks of fasting and praying, as well as performing the correct sacrifices at the designated hours in order to make sure that the enchantment were woven in to the material of the dress.

Finally after much effort and the blessing of the goddess whose symbol was a cat-headed statue the dress was completed. It now provided its wearer magical protection and increased influence in social interactions that the goddess considered her primary area of concern. The red haired and pale-skinned under-priestess eventually found the dress and fled the temple. Her travels led her away from her faith and on to the path of sorcery where she blossomed in to a capable agent for the Anakharim knights.

The vision of the past that the seer had extracted from the psychic impressions left on the garment faded away. Serena folded up the dress and carefully packed in to her bag. She felt relieved that it did not appear to be a blatantly evil item, but on the other had she was intrigued and wary of priestess who'd created it.

“Hey, you're a cleric.” Serena said to Caleb. “Do you know anything about a cat-headed goddess?”

Caleb shook his head. “I PREFER TO RESTRICT MYSELF TO THINGS OF A MORE EARTHLY NATURE.”

“Is that a no?” Serena asked. Caleb sat in silence for awhile to think about the answer. Before he could respond, the seer asked yet another question. “Does Littleby know much about religions?”

“I THINK THAT HE DOES. BUT HE IS IN TOWN AT THE MOMENT TRYING TO FIND OUT A PORTAL BACK TO SIGIL.”

“Do you know anything about religion Andrew?” Serena was desperate to find out more about whose symbol the statue was and Sir Osbourne had indicated that it was not of any deity residing on the Mount.

“Yes,” Andrew said bitterly. “Stay away from them.”

The mystery still remained of why the dress was not able to be taken in to the Garden properly and so the heart seer decided to read the impressions left on the psionic torc that she'd purchased in the Friendly Fiend shop run by A'kin. The arcanoloth was unique in that he was a friendly shop-keeper who was intent only on pleasing his customers and not corrupting mortals, weaving intricate and long-reaching schemes as well as other nefarious activities that the rest of his fiendish race were infamous for.

As Serena opened her mind to the past owners of the psionic accelerator that enabled her to use mind-powers without using quite so much energy. She felt a rush of energy come from the torc in to her thoughts that stripped away the awareness of the world around her and replaced it with a visage of a lush jungle terrain in which an elderly halfling woman stood next to a large crystal tower.

The light passing through the crystal tower was refracted by the many facets of the crystal and a rainbow of colours illuminated the ground in a large area around the tower. The very old halfling woman was busy working with tools that appeared as if they had been grown rather than forged and carefully melded the psionic torc in to the shape that she desired.

The halfling woman was alive with power and Serena felt waves of mental power cascading off her. She positively hummed with energy and it was clear to the heart seer that the halfling shaper was transcending her mortal shell. As the shaper drew upon the energies that were being channelled by the crystal tower, Serena could make out more of the dark spots that marred the bright yellow sun and threatened to cover it entirely causing it to become a darkened sun. Light enveloped the halfling shaper and then the world went dark.

Much later after the jungle had receded and sand covered the land, the tower was gone and only a few ruins remained visible of the great civilization that had existed before. The descendants of the former near god-like beings had fallen a very long way indeed and had descended to the level of cannibals.

A half-dwarf came running in to view through the ruins in order to avoid the pursuit of the hunters behind him. The man was powerfully built and covered with old scars that he had received during his many years in the arena. The mull was aware of an extremely rare magical doorway that lay nearby and that the gith claimed led to a world beyond their own. The halfling hunters had almost caught him when the man tripped over the torc. He grabbed it and immediately felts the power contained within. Not wishing to slay his pursuers he simply put them to sleep and quickly located the doorway. The man who had a core of goodness and selflessness deep inside was sad to bid his world farewell, but he felt that his search for finding limitless water and a means to cast off the yoke the despotic draconic rulers was more important.

Years later he man had changed a great deal in his appearance and his attitude to the world. The travels around the planes of belief had altered him, especially his terrifying trip to the elemental plane of Water. Just before he went to the Gatehouse in Sigil in order to seek help or release from the madness that afflicted him he willingly sold the torc to a friendly shop-keeper who had helped him many times in the past.

“I'm going to find Littleby.” The seer pondered the double-edged nature of being able to see things that belonged to a different time and place. Whilst it let her see things that she would not otherwise know about, making sense of those visions was a separate matter. “If anyone knows about cat-headed things then its him. Also he might know something about halflings and crystal towers.”