From alt.pub.dragons-inn Fri Nov 18 13:57:10 1994 Xref: netcom.com alt.pub.dragons-inn:7897 Path: netcom.com!ix.netcom.com!howland.reston.ans.net!gatech!usenet.ufl.edu!cybernet.cse.fau.edu!motherc From: motherc@cse.fau.edu (Christopher Motherway) Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: [DreamQuest] Wisdom of the Sages Date: 18 Nov 1994 18:23:03 GMT Organization: Cybernet BBS, Boca Raton, Florida. Lines: 286 Message-ID: <3aire7$6v3@cybernet.cse.fau.edu> NNTP-Posting-Host: jupiter.cse.fau.edu X-Newsreader: TIN [version 1.2 PL0] [ADMIN] Sorry this took so long. Between tweeking the post up and the @#$*&%# UNIX crashing... Thanks (immense at that) to Steve Hutchinson for the use of 'Raf and Miro (From Steve "Hutch" Hutchinson) [ADMIN] For those of you interested in fitting this stuff into some kind of a continuity, this happens not too long after Luthor's party (like, the next day) as far as 'Raelf's personal timeline is concerned. [END ADMIN] ============================================================================== OUR STORY SO FAR: Blaze took Lance's spirit on a 'soul-walk' and, consequentially, lost said soul. Lance met up with his father, Corwin, in a strange land. Corwin told Lance of an ocean at the edge of the land where souls could cross to higher planes or, even, the living planes. The two set out to the ocean. Meanwhile, back amongst the living... = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Blaze waited until the town stirred awake before exiting the Dragon's Inn and heading out to the lighthouse where the pre-Housestorming party took place. She figured that, if anyone could assist her, it was 'Raelf or one of the other residents of the lighthouse. Since first meeting with 'Raelf at the "Shadehaven" party, Blaze was fascinated by the man. He was a shapeshifter, a magician of the highest degree and an astral walker. Not a projecter, but a walker. Blaze was a fine sorceress in her own right, but she was in complete awe of the powers of 'Raelf and his "brethern". She had no trouble in getting to the lighthouse in quick order. She was not in an absolute hurry, but the sooner that they could start tracking down Lance's soul, the better. She knocked on the door and waited. The elf Blaze recognized from the Housestorming party opened the door. "Ah, m'lady Blaze," proclaimed Miro. "'Tis good to see ya again." Blaze replied, "Miro, I was wondering if I may talk to you and 'Raelf for a while. It is a matter of magic and my mate." "Och. Sure, and if ye'll come inside, I'll be right with ye." He led her through an empty room, faintly lit by a pale green glow, and into a walled garden. The lighthouse bulked on the right, the west side. A huge old tree, possibly an olive tree, dominated the garden to the left. The ground around the open archway into the lighthouse was cobbled and tiled with a mosaic that Blaze recognized, absently, as extremely old magic. Her escort looked distracted for a moment. "Nay, tis nae possible. The lad cannae be in _there_. Lady Blaze, cuid I be imposin' on ye tae wait here in th' gardens fuir a wee bit?" He vanished into the wind before she could say anything. Blaze sighed, and walked over to the herb beds against the edge of the cobblestone path. A faint mournful fluting caught her ear, and she looked up into the tree. The half-lion, half-human figure she recognized as one of 'Raf's forms, sat on the lowest branch, a set of panpipes held to his lips. His eyes were closed. After a few moments he stopped piping, and without opening his eyes, he spoke. "Lady Blaze. Something has made you very sad today. Also worried and more than a little bit guilty. I've never known you to feel guilty." He opened his eyes and slid, bonelessly catlike, out of the tree and to the ground, landing in a springy crouch. "How is your lifemate doing? I don't see him around." She blinked. "That's part of why I'm here." "Ah." 'Raf grinned suddenly. "Here's Miro again." The elf had appeared, as from thin air, beside her. "Milady, 'tis not possible for Himself tae be meetin' with ye for at least a half a day. Is there anything that me brother and meself could be doin' for ye? I be certain that between the two of us we can do most anything our darlin' brither can do." She looked questioningly for a moment, but then remembered that 'Raf had been fairly capable on the long trek into the wilds of the prior summer. "Very well. We need to travel to the Dragon's Inn for this." 'Raf gestured and bowed, a sweeping low bow that let his tail fly up in the air. Miro stifled a snicker. "We still have the fast gateway in place, Lady. Unless you'd prefer to walk?" Blaze shook her head. "No, I believe this is urgent. We need to reach my room... our room, as soon as possible." The two of them flanked her, mimicking the courtly manners of the home of her youth. "After ye," Miro said, and led her towards the arch of stones built against the south side of the wall. Flickering light appeared in the center of the arch. <> Miro's voice was an odd whispering that reminded Blaze of the cold winds that she had heard in the mountain passes, when she had crossed the Mysty Mountains to the flat plains leading to Generica. The flickering stopped. The door of the Inn opened, and Blaze saw herself walking purposefully out and down the street towards the docks. Before she could ask, Miro took one hand and 'Raf took the other, and they led her through the arch. "Time is a little slippery today," Miro commented as he opened the door to the Inn. 'Raf shrugged. "No worse than yesterday." Blaze decided not to ask. It must be more of that annoying temporal confusion that happened so often in Generica. When they reached her room on the second floor, she paused for a moment with her hand on the door handle. "'Raf, Miro, last night, I went for a 'soul-walk' and...and I brought Lance's soul along upon his request." "Bogus," 'Raf said. "He's got a very unmagical kind of soul -- you could get him hurt doing that." Blaze blushed. "I know, but he said he was willing, he wanted to take the chance. While trying to bring his soul back, it escaped my grasp." "Ach! M'lady, I'm so sorry for ye." Miro patted her other hand in a gesture that reminded her of an elven bodyservant her father had once employed. "But, wait," she protested. "He still lives. His body may be an empty shell now, but I...I have felt his soul...somehow. It is, perhaps, my love for him that lets me know that his soul is still near to the living plane of existance. Or, rather, THIS plane of existance." "Blessed be the ties that blind," 'Raf muttered. "Shall we go in and view the damages?" Blaze nodded, and at her touch the sigil holding the door locked was released. Inside, lying on the bed, Lance's body was motionless. Miro conjured a glass from inside his cloak and held it to the man's lips -- it clouded. "He still breathes, but barely. Damage control, fuzzy," Miro snapped. The elf lifted crosslegged into the air, floating over the bed, as 'Raf pulled a glowing purple crayon from somewhere (with a flare of magic that made Blaze twitch momentarily.) The satyrlion began writing on the floor, on the bed, and after a moment, on the forehead of the inert knight. Miro, on the other hand, was simply humming to himself. Strands of something brushed past like spiderwebs touching the Archmage's magical senses. "Wait," she demanded. "What are you doing?" Without stopping the hum, Miro's voice came to her, distantly, in a dialect of Elvish that she had never heard, yet understood. <> Before she could answer, they had finished. "Sorry not to ask permission," 'Raf said. "See, magic talent gives the body a lot of defenses. But Lance doesn't have that without his own right proper ghost in place." "There's nae mickle a silver chord," Miro commented. "Tell us how ye come tae think he hasn't gone on tae the Halls yet." She sat in the room's one wicker chair. "I sent my dream self to follow after him. But I was so exhausted after trying to put him back, I couldn't even go there in my full power." "Wow," 'Raf nodded. "Bummer." "But," she added, "I did see many things; visions of Lance." Blaze repeated the story of her vision: her Beloved as he met with the ghost of another man, the strange travel across the lands of the dead and the unearthly strangeness of the place that Lance had not seemed to notice. "Anyway, the last thing I saw before regaining consciousness was a desolate land, with sparce mountains and, at one end, was a dark sea." 'Raf grinned. "'Raelf calls it 'Limboland' for no good reason. It's where souls of the departed go when the powers they choose as their judges can't decide whether to take the spirit up to heaven or down to hell. That dark sea was the abyss down to the netherworld. I'd suggest not going there; it'll mess with your head." He quirked one eyebrow slyly. "I mean, I once saw a woman who bore a bastard who condemned herself to constantly eating her newborn ghost kids." Miro blanched, "'Raf, remember yuir manners, this is a noblewoman ye be talkin' to. That story ought tae be sung if ye tell it at all." Blaze said, "It is all right, Miro. Gods know I have seen worse carnage in my travels with Lance." 'Raf grinned. "Now, you say it was your love bond that let your dream seek him out... I don't know if love had much to do with it, Lady Blaze. Not that you don't love each other, but for that sharp a connection, to know how far he is from life when your power has been depleted, your souls have to have a more intimate ..." He stopped there and looked at her, eyes whirling through the spectrum, deep into the far end of violet. He managed to turn the smirk into an innocent smile before it actually reached his lops. He cleared his throat and said, "Well,...anyway, so Lance is still near us. Right. So what do you need?" Blaze answered slowly, "I am still a little weak from last night and, even at full strength, I do not believe that I could soul travel to this...'Limboland' to get Lance. I was wondering if you could find a way to find Lance and return him to this plane." 'Raf looked at Miro, who shrugged. They touched hands for a moment and the room seemed to be the solid center around which the whole world was spinning. "OK. We've figured it out," 'Raf said. "My elf brother here is one of the finest summoners this world has ever seen. If it has a spirit or anything even close, he can call it. So, the trick is going to be this. Lance can't be summoned without hurting him real bad, until he's got to a turning point. He has to choose to be alive, or to die. Or, he has to reach that sea shore. Those are the things that bring him 'closer' to life -- the places where he can make choices and changes. Once you're dead it's majorly hard to change things on your own, y'know." The satyrlion tossed the purple chalk at Miro, who caught it out of the air. It turned green at his touch. "What I'll be doin' then," Miro said, "is writin' a spell of callin' that only he can answer tae. If he gets himsel' kill't or turned intae somethin' that cannae be brought tae life agin, then the spell will nae bring him, and it'll fall tae pieces o' its own weight." He began writing in the air. Perversely, the chalk left marks behind it, faint glowing runes that were more akin to an architect's drawings than to the kind of magical patterning that Blaze had been taught. "Once he's close enough," 'Raf said, and grinned, "Sure and t'will be nae a prrrrublem tae one the likes o' ye tae rrre-unoite the ghostie and yon pallid wight." "Sassenach," Miro growled, and threw the chalk. It bounced off of 'Raf's head in an explosion of green and vanished. The satyrlion laughed. "No, seriously, Blaze -- I would go to fetch him for you if I could, any of me, but there's a ritual I must begin today, that can only be started today, and it has to be done. Miro and I have put a bit of our self into the spell, though, so in the world of the spirits, it will be a familiar thing to Lance. It will bring him here. The spells of warding, here, will keep out the vagrants, and the bit of his truename on his forehead might take some of the hurt out of putting him back." Miro lowered his feet down to the floor again. His hand touched her shoulder and she nodded. "That seems a fine plan. Once his soul is close to his body, I can reunite the two." She stared at the body lying, barely breathing, on the bed. "Thank you. I just pray that Lance will make it to the sea before the gods take him away for good." They nodded and closed the door behind them. <> Miro demanded. 'Raf shrugged. <> The elf shook his head. "Oi need a drink," he drawled. TO BE CONTINUED (Maybe after Thanksgiving; I have a busy schedule ahead of me) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Chris Wolvie motherc@sunrise.cse.fau.edu Disclaimer: I found my inner child...and kicked its little ass! ============================================================================== Florida Atlantic University, Boca Raton (The Rat's Mouth), Florida ============================================================================== "But _we_ decide which is right...and which is an illusion!" -Moody Blues, Last Words of "Nights in White Satin"