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<blockquote data-quote="FireLance" data-source="post: 1887069" data-attributes="member: 3424"><p><strong>Ceramic DM Round 3.2: FireLance vs. Rodrigo Istalindir</strong></p><p></p><p><strong>Nighttime Wanderings</strong></p><p></p><p>Jim rubbed his eyes wearily. It was the third night in a row that he had stayed up past two o' clock, trying his hardest to cram legal precedents and financial best practices into his tired brain. It had seemed a good idea at the time, to take just a year off his job to pursue an advanced dual degree in Law and Financial Analysis. He had been so confident that he would be able to do it, but now, the examinations loomed and he still wasn't able to make anything he had learned stick in his mind. He surveyed the piles of books and papers with mild dislike. If he passed his examinations, he would take great pleasure in carting the whole load of them to the small storage shed in the back garden and leaving them to rot.</p><p></p><p>Jim's stomach rumbled, and he realized that he had skipped dinner. With a sigh, he set down his books and went to the kitchen, hoping to find something to eat. With a sinking feeling, he vaguely recalled that he had neglected to go shopping, too. The results of his search were disappointing. All he could find was <a href="http://www.enworld.org/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=17487" target="_blank">four peppers, one orange, one green, one red and one yellow</a> (1). He had originally bought them to try out a recipe he had found for "four pepper casserole", but had then got too caught up with his studies. Red, orange, yellow, green. There really ought to be a blue pepper too, he thought. </p><p></p><p>He glanced at his watch. It was too late to call for a pizza. He looked out the window and saw that it was raining heavily. That would make a trip to the convenience store extremely unpleasant. Besides, that would take time away from his revision. He turned back to the peppers. Red, orange, yellow, green. Best to do it in order, he thought, reaching for the red pepper.</p><p></p><p>He returned to the study, munching the red pepper. The spicy taste set his tongue on fire and warmed his blood, making him feel more alert and alive. With a sigh, he settled down to face his piles of books and papers again. He wondered if it was worth this much effort, just to be a multi-classed accountant/lawyer/financial analyst. He smiled. It had been years since he had thought of himself as a multi-classed anything. Once, he had been Jimalleon Veramocor, the elven fighter/mage/thief, infiltrator and agent of the Elven Imperial Navy. But that had been a long time ago...</p><p></p><p>"Jim, me lad, where have you been all these years?" a familiar, jovial voice boomed from behind him. Jim turned round in disbelief. Standing there was <a href="http://www.enworld.org/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=17485" target="_blank">a man with the head of a hippo, a highwayman's three-cornered hat perched on his head, holding a flintlock pistol in his right hand</a> (2).</p><p></p><p>"George?" Jim asked weakly, "What are you doing here?" This was not possible. George was a creation of his own childhood imagination, an amalgamation of the personality and mannerisms of a character from his favorite book with the name and face of a hippo puppet from his favorite show, made for a game that he used to play, where hippo-men sailed between the stars in magical ships. </p><p></p><p>"Searching for the Blue Pepper, of course. Isn't that what you're here for, too?" George said. Jim shook his head in confusion, and George stepped closer, a look of puzzlement on his face. "Surely you've heard? It's the talk of every tavern in every spaceport. The Dark Lord has stolen the Blue Pepper for his own nefarious purposes. If you're not looking for it, what are you doing in his lair?"</p><p></p><p>"Dark Lord? Lair? Blue Pepper? What are you talking about?" Jim babbled, "Why am I talking to you? You're not even real! You're just some hallucination. Yes, that's right - you're the product of a tired mind already weakened by stress, hunger and insufficient sleep. That red pepper might have something to do with it, too."</p><p></p><p>"Ah, poor lad. The Dark Lord must have confused your mind," George muttered, "I'm sorry to do this, Jim-boy, but you'll thank me for it later." With that, he brought his fist round in a tremendous punch which knocked Jim off balance and left him sprawling on the floor. </p><p></p><p>George leaned over him. "Are you feeling better, Jim? Thinking clearly now?" Jim nodded and rubbed his cheek. That punch had <em>hurt</em>. A dream couldn't be that painful, could it?</p><p></p><p>"So what say you, Jim? Shall we join forces to look for the Blue Pepper? The Dark Lord wouldn't stand a chance against the two us. Come with me, lad, and the bards will sing of the exploits of Long George Platinum and his mate Jim for years." He reached down a hand to help him up.</p><p></p><p>Jim hesitated. He felt vaguely tempted, but he had examinations to prepare for. He couldn't afford to waste any time. "I'm sorry, George," he started to say, but then he saw something behind George that chilled his blood. A sinister black cloak loomed above him, billowing ominously. </p><p></p><p>"Jim, is something wrong?" George managed to ask, before it engulfed him. "Jim, me lad, help! Help me!" George's muffled cries came from within the dark shape, which shuddered and shook as he struggled against it. But, paralyzed by fear, Jim could only watch and listen as George's struggles and cries grew steadily weaker and eventually stopped.</p><p></p><p>There was a moment of silence and stillness, and then the dark bundle in front of Jim slowly unwrapped itself. Jim's muscles finally responded, and he scrambled to his feet. As he turned to run, a cold, mocking voice whispered in his ear, "Why run, my son? You cannot escape. You belong to me, now."</p><p></p><p>"No!" Jim screamed, and awoke with a start. He was seated at his desk in the study. There was no sign of George or any black, cloak-like monsters anywhere. It had been a dream, then. The scariest thing he could see was one of his books, lying open in front of him at the chapter, "Mergers and Acquisitions". He was starting to really dislike his books. Perhaps, he thought, he would put each of them through a shredder before dragging them to the garden shed and leaving them to rot.</p><p></p><p>Jim was still hungry, and he stood up and went to the kitchen again. There were three peppers left, the orange, the yellow and the green. Orange follows red, he thought, as he reached for it. This one tasted warm and slightly sweet. In a way, it reminded him of peppermint. He had always loved peppermint, especially around Christmas...</p><p></p><p>He was passing by his bedroom on his way back to the study when he heard a soft giggle and the sound of rustling coming from within. He peered into his bedroom, and his eyes widened in surprise. Someone had left a pile of white and silver tinsel on his bed. He stepped into his bedroom to take a closer look, and noticed <a href="http://www.enworld.org/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=17484" target="_blank">a pair of eyes staring out at him warily from inside the pile of tinsel</a> (3). "Who are you, and what are you doing here?" Jim asked.</p><p></p><p>"Shhh!" a boy's voice came from inside the pile of tinsel. "Not so loud. The Dark Lord will hear you. Then, he'll find me, and he'll make me tell him where I hid the Blue Pepper."</p><p></p><p>"Dark Lord? Blue Pepper? I'm dreaming again, aren't I?" Jim said with a sigh.</p><p></p><p>A man's voice suddenly came from outside the room, "Son? Where are you?"</p><p></p><p>"Now you've gone and done it!" whispered the voice in the tinsel, "He's heard you and now he's going to find me. What am I going to do?" The eyes looked worried for a moment, then brightened again. "Look, it's your fault he's found me, and you're just going to have to fix things. I've hidden the Blue Pepper some place that he will never think of searching for it, because he would never think that anything important could be there. I'll distract him, and you go get it and keep it away from him. Alright?"</p><p></p><p>"But you haven't told me where you hid it," Jim protested.</p><p></p><p>"I can't tell you now, he might hear me. Don't just stand there, hide! Quickly!"</p><p></p><p>Jim was utterly confused by everything that was going on, but he stumbled behind a cupboard anyway.</p><p></p><p>"Daddy, is it time to decorate the tree yet?" the voice said.</p><p></p><p>"Don't be silly, it's nowhere near Christmas," Jim muttered.</p><p></p><p>"Don't be silly, it's nowhere near Christmas," the man's voice echoed, sounding rather cross. Jim stiffened. He recognized that voice. "Have you finished your homework yet? It's almost time for dinner, you know." Jim could hear the man's footsteps now. They were almost outside his room. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped. Jim braced himself for what was coming. "What's this tinsel doing on your bed? Jim!"</p><p></p><p>"Dad!" Jim shouted, and woke up again. Once more, he was seated at his desk in the study. This time, the book in front of him was open to the chapter, "Laws of Inheritance". His dislike for his books flared again. He had the sudden urge to burn them after shredding them, and then throw the ashes into the garden shed.</p><p></p><p>Breathing deeply, he counted to ten and calmed himself down. Was it just coincidence that he had two dreams in a row about some mysterious blue pepper and a dark lord who turned out to be his father? There was only one way to find out. He walked back to the kitchen and stared at the two remaining peppers. Yellow or green? After a moment's hesitation, he picked the yellow one. He couldn't take the chance that it wouldn't work if he went out of sequence.</p><p></p><p>The yellow pepper was dry and hot, like a desert wind on his tongue. Perhaps that was a good sign, he mused. He had read somewhere that wisdom came from the desert...</p><p></p><p>Jim paced around the kitchen. Nothing was happening. "Hello?" he asked, "Are any dreams, hallucinations or childhood memories going to make an appearance? I'm waiting here."</p><p></p><p>A low, throaty chuckle sounded from the kitchen door. "You always were an impatient one, weren't you, Jim? Well, you'll have to wait a little bit longer, I'm afraid. These old bones have never moved very fast, and the years have only made them slower." Walking through the kitchen door was an old tortoise about four feet tall, leaning heavily on a staff. "Remember me, Jim?"</p><p></p><p>"Aristortle?" Jim asked.</p><p></p><p>"Pity," the tortoise said, "I was hoping you'd have forgotten. Then I could have given myself a new name that didn't sound like it was created by a thirteen-year-old who thought that puns were the highest form of art. Which, as I recall, that was you were when you named me. But anyhow, yes, it's me, Aristortle. In the flesh. Or, to be more precise, in the image."</p><p></p><p>"So tell me, O wise and all-knowing tortoise sage Artistortle," Jim said, "Why am I having these hallucinations, or dreams, or whatever? What is the Blue Pepper? Is my father really the Dark Lord? What on earth is going on?"</p><p></p><p>Aristortle was quiet for a while. "You've been very busy lately, haven't you?"</p><p></p><p>"What does that have to do with anything?"</p><p></p><p>"You should know better than to expect me to give a straight answer to any question. You created me, after all. But my question was rhetorical. You have been busy. College, grad school, a job in the bank, overtime, two promotions in five years, golf, gym membership, and now, advanced degrees in law and financial analysis."</p><p></p><p>"There's nothing wrong with keeping busy and being a useful member of society," Jim said, "My father always said..."</p><p></p><p>"And that's the crux of it, Jim," Aristortle interrupted, "Your father was not a bad man. Far from it. He was responsible, hard-working, serious, sensible. You are all these things too, and it is good that you are. But you are not your father. There is another side of you that you have neglected for too long, and it is doing everything it can to reclaim you tonight."</p><p></p><p>Aristortle turned, and hobbled towards kitchen door. "You have a choice, Jim. You can dismiss everything that has happened tonight as nothing more than a series of unimportant dreams. You can go back to your regular life and you will still be happy. But if you do decide to continue searching for the Blue Pepper, here is one final clue. Remember this, Jim?"</p><p></p><p>Aristortle gestured towards the dining room table, and <a href="http://www.enworld.org/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=17483" target="_blank"> the image of a smaller turtle lying on top of a larger one appeared on it</a> (4).</p><p></p><p>"Turtle Mountain, and Turtle Temple on top of it," Jim said.</p><p></p><p>"Correct. Find it, and you find the Blue Pepper," Aristortle said, and he and the image faded away. Jim was left alone in the kitchen, staring at the last pepper, the green one, lying in the bowl on the table.</p><p></p><p>He knew ought to get back to preparing for his examination. It was the responsible thing to do. It was what his father would have done.</p><p></p><p><em>But you are not your father. There is another side of you...</em></p><p></p><p>He had no time to go chasing after some Blue Pepper that might not even exist.</p><p></p><p><em>Ah, poor lad. The Dark Lord must have confused your mind...</em></p><p></p><p>But he had to admit that he desperately wanted to.</p><p></p><p><em>Come with me, lad, and the bards will sing...</em></p><p></p><p>Like how he desperately wanted to lock his books and notes away some place where he would never see them again.</p><p></p><p><em>Some place that he will never think of searching for it...</em></p><p></p><p>Like in the storage shed in the back garden.</p><p></p><p><em>He would never think that anything important could be there...</em></p><p></p><p>All the books and games and toys he had as a child were there.</p><p></p><p><em>Jim, me lad, where have you been all these years...</em></p><p></p><p>Including the wooden turtle pull toy that was his inspiration for Turtle Mountain.</p><p></p><p><em>Find it, and you find the Blue Pepper...</em></p><p></p><p>In a flash, Jim ran out of the kitchen and into the back garden. <a href="http://www.enworld.org/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=17486" target="_blank">The storage shed was a dilapidated, rusting structure. The rain had stopped, but had left deep puddles around it that added to its forlorn and abandoned air</a> (5).</p><p></p><p>Jim splashed through the puddles and into the shed. The smells of rust and mildew and decay were strong. Faded books lined the shelves, and abandoned toys peered out from boxes. The entire shed was a mausoleum for his childhood companions.</p><p></p><p>He spent the morning searching the shed. He found a clumsily-drawn portrait of George amid a stack of other papers on a shelf. He found a pile of white and silver tinsel stuffed into a black garbage bag. In a box in a corner of the shed, he found his turtle pull toy. But there was no sign of a blue pepper anywhere. Dejected, he returned to the kitchen. One last pepper, the green one, remained in the bowl. He looked at it thoughtfully. Why not? He had nothing to lose, anyway.</p><p></p><p>This pepper tasted fresh and juicy, sharp rather than spicy. As he ate, Jim wondered what had gone wrong. He had found the turtle pull toy, but there was still no blue pepper anywhere to be seen. Had he been searching for the wrong Turtle Mountain? The pull toy was, of course, nothing like the way he imagined Turtle Mountain to be. In the first place, Turtle Mountain had no wheels, and the rock patterns on its sides were more intricate than the uniform green of the pull toy. And the shrine on top was not a crude wooden cut-out, but a majestic structure carved from green jade. If he concentrated hard enough, he could see it so clearly...</p><p></p><p>Jim jerked himself awake, comprehension suddenly dawning. He hadn't found the Blue Pepper because he had been searching in the wrong place all along. Smiling, he closed his eyes and concentrated, and Jimalleon Veramocor, elven fighter/mage/thief, infiltrator and agent of the Elven Imperial Navy, ran up the slopes of Turtle Mountain towards Turtle Temple, where his friends George and Aristortle were waiting, holding the Blue Pepper in his hands.</p><p></p><p>. . . . .</p><p></p><p>(1) The bowl of peppers</p><p>(2) George, the gif^H^H^H hippo-man</p><p>(3) Eyes peering out from among the tinsel </p><p>(4) Turtle Mountain, with Turtle Temple on top of it</p><p>(5) The storage shed</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="FireLance, post: 1887069, member: 3424"] [B]Ceramic DM Round 3.2: FireLance vs. Rodrigo Istalindir[/B] [B]Nighttime Wanderings[/B] Jim rubbed his eyes wearily. It was the third night in a row that he had stayed up past two o' clock, trying his hardest to cram legal precedents and financial best practices into his tired brain. It had seemed a good idea at the time, to take just a year off his job to pursue an advanced dual degree in Law and Financial Analysis. He had been so confident that he would be able to do it, but now, the examinations loomed and he still wasn't able to make anything he had learned stick in his mind. He surveyed the piles of books and papers with mild dislike. If he passed his examinations, he would take great pleasure in carting the whole load of them to the small storage shed in the back garden and leaving them to rot. Jim's stomach rumbled, and he realized that he had skipped dinner. With a sigh, he set down his books and went to the kitchen, hoping to find something to eat. With a sinking feeling, he vaguely recalled that he had neglected to go shopping, too. The results of his search were disappointing. All he could find was [URL=http://www.enworld.org/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=17487]four peppers, one orange, one green, one red and one yellow[/URL] (1). He had originally bought them to try out a recipe he had found for "four pepper casserole", but had then got too caught up with his studies. Red, orange, yellow, green. There really ought to be a blue pepper too, he thought. He glanced at his watch. It was too late to call for a pizza. He looked out the window and saw that it was raining heavily. That would make a trip to the convenience store extremely unpleasant. Besides, that would take time away from his revision. He turned back to the peppers. Red, orange, yellow, green. Best to do it in order, he thought, reaching for the red pepper. He returned to the study, munching the red pepper. The spicy taste set his tongue on fire and warmed his blood, making him feel more alert and alive. With a sigh, he settled down to face his piles of books and papers again. He wondered if it was worth this much effort, just to be a multi-classed accountant/lawyer/financial analyst. He smiled. It had been years since he had thought of himself as a multi-classed anything. Once, he had been Jimalleon Veramocor, the elven fighter/mage/thief, infiltrator and agent of the Elven Imperial Navy. But that had been a long time ago... "Jim, me lad, where have you been all these years?" a familiar, jovial voice boomed from behind him. Jim turned round in disbelief. Standing there was [URL=http://www.enworld.org/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=17485]a man with the head of a hippo, a highwayman's three-cornered hat perched on his head, holding a flintlock pistol in his right hand[/URL] (2). "George?" Jim asked weakly, "What are you doing here?" This was not possible. George was a creation of his own childhood imagination, an amalgamation of the personality and mannerisms of a character from his favorite book with the name and face of a hippo puppet from his favorite show, made for a game that he used to play, where hippo-men sailed between the stars in magical ships. "Searching for the Blue Pepper, of course. Isn't that what you're here for, too?" George said. Jim shook his head in confusion, and George stepped closer, a look of puzzlement on his face. "Surely you've heard? It's the talk of every tavern in every spaceport. The Dark Lord has stolen the Blue Pepper for his own nefarious purposes. If you're not looking for it, what are you doing in his lair?" "Dark Lord? Lair? Blue Pepper? What are you talking about?" Jim babbled, "Why am I talking to you? You're not even real! You're just some hallucination. Yes, that's right - you're the product of a tired mind already weakened by stress, hunger and insufficient sleep. That red pepper might have something to do with it, too." "Ah, poor lad. The Dark Lord must have confused your mind," George muttered, "I'm sorry to do this, Jim-boy, but you'll thank me for it later." With that, he brought his fist round in a tremendous punch which knocked Jim off balance and left him sprawling on the floor. George leaned over him. "Are you feeling better, Jim? Thinking clearly now?" Jim nodded and rubbed his cheek. That punch had [I]hurt[/I]. A dream couldn't be that painful, could it? "So what say you, Jim? Shall we join forces to look for the Blue Pepper? The Dark Lord wouldn't stand a chance against the two us. Come with me, lad, and the bards will sing of the exploits of Long George Platinum and his mate Jim for years." He reached down a hand to help him up. Jim hesitated. He felt vaguely tempted, but he had examinations to prepare for. He couldn't afford to waste any time. "I'm sorry, George," he started to say, but then he saw something behind George that chilled his blood. A sinister black cloak loomed above him, billowing ominously. "Jim, is something wrong?" George managed to ask, before it engulfed him. "Jim, me lad, help! Help me!" George's muffled cries came from within the dark shape, which shuddered and shook as he struggled against it. But, paralyzed by fear, Jim could only watch and listen as George's struggles and cries grew steadily weaker and eventually stopped. There was a moment of silence and stillness, and then the dark bundle in front of Jim slowly unwrapped itself. Jim's muscles finally responded, and he scrambled to his feet. As he turned to run, a cold, mocking voice whispered in his ear, "Why run, my son? You cannot escape. You belong to me, now." "No!" Jim screamed, and awoke with a start. He was seated at his desk in the study. There was no sign of George or any black, cloak-like monsters anywhere. It had been a dream, then. The scariest thing he could see was one of his books, lying open in front of him at the chapter, "Mergers and Acquisitions". He was starting to really dislike his books. Perhaps, he thought, he would put each of them through a shredder before dragging them to the garden shed and leaving them to rot. Jim was still hungry, and he stood up and went to the kitchen again. There were three peppers left, the orange, the yellow and the green. Orange follows red, he thought, as he reached for it. This one tasted warm and slightly sweet. In a way, it reminded him of peppermint. He had always loved peppermint, especially around Christmas... He was passing by his bedroom on his way back to the study when he heard a soft giggle and the sound of rustling coming from within. He peered into his bedroom, and his eyes widened in surprise. Someone had left a pile of white and silver tinsel on his bed. He stepped into his bedroom to take a closer look, and noticed [URL=http://www.enworld.org/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=17484]a pair of eyes staring out at him warily from inside the pile of tinsel[/URL] (3). "Who are you, and what are you doing here?" Jim asked. "Shhh!" a boy's voice came from inside the pile of tinsel. "Not so loud. The Dark Lord will hear you. Then, he'll find me, and he'll make me tell him where I hid the Blue Pepper." "Dark Lord? Blue Pepper? I'm dreaming again, aren't I?" Jim said with a sigh. A man's voice suddenly came from outside the room, "Son? Where are you?" "Now you've gone and done it!" whispered the voice in the tinsel, "He's heard you and now he's going to find me. What am I going to do?" The eyes looked worried for a moment, then brightened again. "Look, it's your fault he's found me, and you're just going to have to fix things. I've hidden the Blue Pepper some place that he will never think of searching for it, because he would never think that anything important could be there. I'll distract him, and you go get it and keep it away from him. Alright?" "But you haven't told me where you hid it," Jim protested. "I can't tell you now, he might hear me. Don't just stand there, hide! Quickly!" Jim was utterly confused by everything that was going on, but he stumbled behind a cupboard anyway. "Daddy, is it time to decorate the tree yet?" the voice said. "Don't be silly, it's nowhere near Christmas," Jim muttered. "Don't be silly, it's nowhere near Christmas," the man's voice echoed, sounding rather cross. Jim stiffened. He recognized that voice. "Have you finished your homework yet? It's almost time for dinner, you know." Jim could hear the man's footsteps now. They were almost outside his room. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped. Jim braced himself for what was coming. "What's this tinsel doing on your bed? Jim!" "Dad!" Jim shouted, and woke up again. Once more, he was seated at his desk in the study. This time, the book in front of him was open to the chapter, "Laws of Inheritance". His dislike for his books flared again. He had the sudden urge to burn them after shredding them, and then throw the ashes into the garden shed. Breathing deeply, he counted to ten and calmed himself down. Was it just coincidence that he had two dreams in a row about some mysterious blue pepper and a dark lord who turned out to be his father? There was only one way to find out. He walked back to the kitchen and stared at the two remaining peppers. Yellow or green? After a moment's hesitation, he picked the yellow one. He couldn't take the chance that it wouldn't work if he went out of sequence. The yellow pepper was dry and hot, like a desert wind on his tongue. Perhaps that was a good sign, he mused. He had read somewhere that wisdom came from the desert... Jim paced around the kitchen. Nothing was happening. "Hello?" he asked, "Are any dreams, hallucinations or childhood memories going to make an appearance? I'm waiting here." A low, throaty chuckle sounded from the kitchen door. "You always were an impatient one, weren't you, Jim? Well, you'll have to wait a little bit longer, I'm afraid. These old bones have never moved very fast, and the years have only made them slower." Walking through the kitchen door was an old tortoise about four feet tall, leaning heavily on a staff. "Remember me, Jim?" "Aristortle?" Jim asked. "Pity," the tortoise said, "I was hoping you'd have forgotten. Then I could have given myself a new name that didn't sound like it was created by a thirteen-year-old who thought that puns were the highest form of art. Which, as I recall, that was you were when you named me. But anyhow, yes, it's me, Aristortle. In the flesh. Or, to be more precise, in the image." "So tell me, O wise and all-knowing tortoise sage Artistortle," Jim said, "Why am I having these hallucinations, or dreams, or whatever? What is the Blue Pepper? Is my father really the Dark Lord? What on earth is going on?" Aristortle was quiet for a while. "You've been very busy lately, haven't you?" "What does that have to do with anything?" "You should know better than to expect me to give a straight answer to any question. You created me, after all. But my question was rhetorical. You have been busy. College, grad school, a job in the bank, overtime, two promotions in five years, golf, gym membership, and now, advanced degrees in law and financial analysis." "There's nothing wrong with keeping busy and being a useful member of society," Jim said, "My father always said..." "And that's the crux of it, Jim," Aristortle interrupted, "Your father was not a bad man. Far from it. He was responsible, hard-working, serious, sensible. You are all these things too, and it is good that you are. But you are not your father. There is another side of you that you have neglected for too long, and it is doing everything it can to reclaim you tonight." Aristortle turned, and hobbled towards kitchen door. "You have a choice, Jim. You can dismiss everything that has happened tonight as nothing more than a series of unimportant dreams. You can go back to your regular life and you will still be happy. But if you do decide to continue searching for the Blue Pepper, here is one final clue. Remember this, Jim?" Aristortle gestured towards the dining room table, and [URL=http://www.enworld.org/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=17483] the image of a smaller turtle lying on top of a larger one appeared on it[/URL] (4). "Turtle Mountain, and Turtle Temple on top of it," Jim said. "Correct. Find it, and you find the Blue Pepper," Aristortle said, and he and the image faded away. Jim was left alone in the kitchen, staring at the last pepper, the green one, lying in the bowl on the table. He knew ought to get back to preparing for his examination. It was the responsible thing to do. It was what his father would have done. [I]But you are not your father. There is another side of you...[/I] He had no time to go chasing after some Blue Pepper that might not even exist. [I]Ah, poor lad. The Dark Lord must have confused your mind...[/I] But he had to admit that he desperately wanted to. [I]Come with me, lad, and the bards will sing...[/I] Like how he desperately wanted to lock his books and notes away some place where he would never see them again. [I]Some place that he will never think of searching for it...[/I] Like in the storage shed in the back garden. [I]He would never think that anything important could be there...[/I] All the books and games and toys he had as a child were there. [I]Jim, me lad, where have you been all these years...[/I] Including the wooden turtle pull toy that was his inspiration for Turtle Mountain. [I]Find it, and you find the Blue Pepper...[/I] In a flash, Jim ran out of the kitchen and into the back garden. [URL=http://www.enworld.org/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=17486]The storage shed was a dilapidated, rusting structure. The rain had stopped, but had left deep puddles around it that added to its forlorn and abandoned air[/URL] (5). Jim splashed through the puddles and into the shed. The smells of rust and mildew and decay were strong. Faded books lined the shelves, and abandoned toys peered out from boxes. The entire shed was a mausoleum for his childhood companions. He spent the morning searching the shed. He found a clumsily-drawn portrait of George amid a stack of other papers on a shelf. He found a pile of white and silver tinsel stuffed into a black garbage bag. In a box in a corner of the shed, he found his turtle pull toy. But there was no sign of a blue pepper anywhere. Dejected, he returned to the kitchen. One last pepper, the green one, remained in the bowl. He looked at it thoughtfully. Why not? He had nothing to lose, anyway. This pepper tasted fresh and juicy, sharp rather than spicy. As he ate, Jim wondered what had gone wrong. He had found the turtle pull toy, but there was still no blue pepper anywhere to be seen. Had he been searching for the wrong Turtle Mountain? The pull toy was, of course, nothing like the way he imagined Turtle Mountain to be. In the first place, Turtle Mountain had no wheels, and the rock patterns on its sides were more intricate than the uniform green of the pull toy. And the shrine on top was not a crude wooden cut-out, but a majestic structure carved from green jade. If he concentrated hard enough, he could see it so clearly... Jim jerked himself awake, comprehension suddenly dawning. He hadn't found the Blue Pepper because he had been searching in the wrong place all along. Smiling, he closed his eyes and concentrated, and Jimalleon Veramocor, elven fighter/mage/thief, infiltrator and agent of the Elven Imperial Navy, ran up the slopes of Turtle Mountain towards Turtle Temple, where his friends George and Aristortle were waiting, holding the Blue Pepper in his hands. . . . . . (1) The bowl of peppers (2) George, the gif^H^H^H hippo-man (3) Eyes peering out from among the tinsel (4) Turtle Mountain, with Turtle Temple on top of it (5) The storage shed [/QUOTE]
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