Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: kring@physik.uni-kl.de (Thomas Kettenring) Subject: [Welcome] BT: Lots Of Things Get Pinched Part 1 of 3 Message-ID: <1993Aug15.232649.14121@rhrk.uni-kl.de> Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1993 23:26:49 GMT ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bakr's Tales: Lots Of Things Get Pinched Part 1 of 3 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- When the sun set, we stood at the Temple of Wredelin at the outskirts of Mythros. It was a U-shaped platform the size of a small house, with two steps leading up to it all around it, twelve columns standing on it in a line, and a roof. Around it was a grove, and inside the U there was a pedestal with a statue of Wredelin the God of Wisdom. Zondragon had a statue of him too, so I knew how he looked. He had a high forehead and a thick beard, and wore the garments of a philosopher. Uh... perhaps I shouldn't talk of a god in past tense. He *has* a high forehead and a thick beard, and wears the garments of a philosopher. A handsome, tall, youngish-looking man with curly black hair approached us. "Hello. I am Damasistratos, Priest of Wredelin. You want to pray, or think, or talk?" "We sure don't want to eat beans," Compass answered. "Follow me." We followed him, and Tarik asked the ranger, "Beans?" "That was the password." The priest led us through the grove, in which more statues were standing, to a statue of a small, bald, old philosopher. He looked around, then somehow opened the pedestal and pointed to the square-shaped hole. "One moment. What are we to do?" "Someone will explain. He's in there. I don't know anything." There were stairs going down, and somewhere below, there was light. At the foot of the stairs a hooded figure with a torch awaited us. "Light another torch!" he said. After I did so, he continued, "You'll have to swear that you won't tell anyone in this world of what you'll do between now and the time you'll next time ascend this stairs. Will you do that now, please?" I couldn't see a reason to refuse it, so I took an oath on my god Ormut. The others did likewise, and he gave us a piece of paper with a plan on it and said, "Follow this plan, and you will reach a room with scrolls and books in it. Find a thick old book in black and green and bring it here. Don't leave the way." He gave us his torch too and went upstairs. "Good luck!" he whispered from outside, and his voice echoed all over the place. ----- "What's all this? That was not Nikostratos. What does he have to do with it?" Tarik asked Compass. "They're friends of his. Why don't we just go and get the book?" I said, "we could cheat and go up and down the stairs now. Then the oaths would refer to this minute only." "Nonsense. Probably he is up there and waits for us. Show me the plan, Bakr." We all looked at the plan. It consisted mainly of a straight line. On both ends there were what seemed to be stairs, and sideways junctions were branching from the line, sometimes they were connected to each other. "It's just straightforward. No turning. What do we need a plan for?" asked Ormgwen. "I think it's only a topological plan," I answered. "A huh plan?" "Topological. Zondragon taught me the word. It means that it can be stretched like rubber... ORMGWEN! That's not what I meant!" "It doesn't stretch at all. It just tears, like paper does." "I mean, this plan shows a straight line but in reality it's not straight." "You mean it's a fake plan?" "No, if it shows a junction going to the left, there will be a junction to the left. Only the angles and lengths are different." "Ah. I understand." "Er, Bakr..." "Yes, Tarik?" "You mages have rather strange subjects when you're among yourselves. Why on Midgard did your master mention that word?" "He told me about some philosophical methods of catching lions. He thought they were funny, but I didn't understand much, and he had to explain every single one of them multiple times." "Okay, say no more. I don't want to know about it." ----- Of course we didn't stay on the way but looked around in the vicinity. We found other stairs that ended behind a stone panel in the back of the Temple of Obilon, the local sea god, at the docks. It's really a pretty sight, by the way: a quarter of a circle with columns and an altar and a fountain with statues of the sea god with two dolphins and two mermaids. Naked all five of them. Indeed the way was not straight. We found that the map was accurate though. Where the branches should be connected, they were. Even the remains of some animal was recorded as two crossed bones. But soon after that we encountered some more bones (this time human) that weren't recorded, probably because they were walking around. I didn't see much of the fight, as I had to stop Caramon from running away. But I know that the torches helped a good deal: the skeleton seemed to fear them. Probably its will had contained a clause about not being cremated. When Ormgwen reduced the undead to another pile of bones, he thought he had a right to the pendant it wore around the neck, and he got it. I tried to identify it, as it looked magical to me, but I could only guess that it may give some sort of protection. Against what? I didn't know. Heat, cold, poison, acid... Ormgwen decided to test it. He put the pendant around his neck, and Compass had to hold his torch closer and closer to the burglar's arm. When it was directly below it, the arm got black from soot assembling on it but Ormgwen was still grinning. A heat protection pendant it was! The way kept bending to the right, and we suspected that we were walking in a circle. It never got boring: soon we met a troupe of giant rats and turned them into rat-shaped dead meat, and when the stairs at the end of the way were in sight, a giant beetle provided entertainment. Tarik's cutlass broke on the creature's exoskeleton, but we managed to kill it. ----- We climbed the stairs and found ourselves under a trapdoor made of stone. Ormgwen lifted it, and we ascended into a small room, the walls covered with racks. The racks in turn were covered with scrolls and books. We had to be careful with our torches... In the middle of the room there were spiral stairs leading up. The book in question was soon found but neither Tarik nor I could read it. (The other two had never learned how to read anyway.) Probably it was some old and long dead language. Ormgwen tried the stairs but had to stop at the ceiling, as the trapdoor above was locked or blocked. That meant we wouldn't find out where we were. Of course if we set fire to the room, we'd know it tomorrow... Nah! Tarik suspected that it was the city hall, and I thought that was reasonable. The scrolls were written in modern Chryseian, and what they said sounded quite city-hallish. "Hereby I, Lynkeus, Chairman of the Council of Twelve of Mythros..." Well, we descended and closed the trapdoor behind us. Then we explored the continuation of the corridor from which we had come. As suspected, it was one of the first branches of our way. Obviously they didn't want us to know the shortest way. We explored a bit more and found that there were stairs leading to the gym - Compass remembered that one of the teachers, Iapyx, had mentioned that sometimes the pupils trained in the dungeons below, against real monsters - and others leading to the lighthouse on top of the big rock beside the harbor. Then we thought that that was enough for now and returned to where we had entered. ----- Damasistratos, the priest of Wredelin, was waiting by the statue. He said that he had expected us a quarter of an hour before, and Tarik answered that we had found some time-consuming opponents. "What opponents? Did they survive?" "Not one of them," Compass answered with the air of a vermin exterminator. "The usual monsters. Skeleton, giant rats, giant beetle." I gave him the tome, and he thanked us, turned around, and went away. Something was missing. "One moment! Don't we get any money?" shouted Tarik. Yes, that was it. The priest came back. "Are you akousmaticians?" Everybody looked at me but I shrugged my shoulders and asked, "What are 'akousmaticians'?" "Aha," said the priest. "You are. Well, then... don't contact us. We'll contact you." He turned to go again. I started to say "But..." when Compass put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Don't worry. Trust him." Ormgwen was already running after the priest, while hiding in the bushes. The ranger grunted in disgust, and we followed the assassin in a distance. The priest's way ended in a house close to the Temple, probably his own. Compass tried to convince our Fuardian burglar that it made no sense to observe the house further, but Ormgwen wouldn't hear. Tarik and I left them there and went to bed. The next day we heard the rest of the story: after a while the lights went out, and after waiting another while Ormgwen broke into the house and managed to pinch a broken flute and a few arrows from a lumber-room. Compass, who had waited outside, commented, "Great, Orm. Really great." "Not really," was Ormgwen's answer. ----- Zondragon told me that 'akousmatic' was used for "not-knowledgeable" by some. He added, "I guess someone called you an akousmatician?" "That's right." "I heard it is the opposite of 'mathematician'. But every time I inquire further, I do not hear more. I would be thankful if you could enlighten me. Who used the word? What did you do this night?" "Hrm. Sorry, but I can't tell you that." "Oh. You too. An oath?" I was silent. "Aha. I hope you do not get too involved with these people. Good night Bakr." -- Bakr ibn Ja'far ibn Musa al Mekneshi, apprentice mage aka Thomas Kettenring