by Langland, J.
"Crap, it looks like I'm going to get the chance to find out," Tom said despondently.
"Oh, yeah, sorry. That's just kind of a sore spot a lot of us have. We, of course, always want to defend what we feel are, ah, justified actions."
"I guess I understand, or soon will, at least."
"Yeah, you will, heh, heh," chuckled Tizzy, sticking the pipe stem back in his mouth.
"Well, actually, you understand there are of course other more logical reasons for trying to axe your master, beyond simple exquisite painful revenge. Because, if you kill off everyone who knows your true name, no one can call on you for your services. Therefore, you are essentially free, until someone realizes that there's a bound demon running around out there with no master, and tries to find out your name, or tries to force it out of you. Which, if you're discreet, won't happen very often."
Gazing down at his form, Tom came up with a brilliant idea, "Hey, you said we're not in a physical body, right?"
"Yes," Boggy answered, as if he knew what was coming next.
"Well then, why can't we alter our forms, at least back to the original?"
“Bright lad.” Tizzy hummed.
"Good question. Actually, some can do it, the most powerful demons, generally speaking, the Lords of the Abyss and such can do so anywhere they please; however, in practice, it is extremely difficult, takes an awful lot of willpower, and is not comfortable, and most importantly, would only last until you're called back to Astlan. There, the person calling you has the same idea of what you should look like, so back you go to demon form, and that means the same painful quick reformation and materialization in Astlan that you went through before."
"So, I have to go through all that pain every time?"
"Only if you've changed your pattern to something different from what they're expecting, and when you change on your own, it's slower, so less painful, and also it's by your own will, so it's more natural; assuming, of course, that you can do it. Besides all of which, your present body is much better adapted to living in this environment than your old human body.” Boggy told him.
"You may not have noticed, but the ambient temperature here is very nearly the boiling point of water. The air in many of the lower, hotter regions is rather acidic and can burn humans, and because of the terrain, it really pays to have wings.” Tizzy chipped in.
"So, to sum up my point: many demons are capable of doing it, but don't go to all the trouble of changing forms," Boggy concluded.
"Uh, huh." Well, that answers that, thought Tom. He looked about, and concentrated, yes, he guessed it was probably relatively hot here, but it was hard to tell, since the temperature felt comfortable.
"Kinda squashes that idea, don't it?" Tizzy asked leeringly. Tizzy, Tom decided, was not quite right in the head. Enough however, why worry about an octopodal demon, when he had enough problems of his own.
"Don't worry, you'll get used to it, we all do," Boggy said sympathetically. "Look on the bright side; at least you're big and impressive enough so that not many trouble makers will bother you."
That sparked another question in Tom's weary mind, "Why, am I so much bigger than you? I mean, what was it that made the people decide I looked like this?"
"What makes any man think the way he does?" Boggy asked philosophically. "However, in your case it's fairly obvious. As I said when I flew up here, you must have given your capturer a good fight, or fright. Basically you resisted him or her quite strongly, or impressed him enough, so that he thought of you as a fairly powerful demon. Now that in itself isn't enough of course, otherwise any half assed new demon could scare the shit out of a wimpy conjuror.
“No, you must have done something to absolutely convince several people that you were quite powerful. The Astlanians do, by the way, have a scale for rating demons, I won't bother with it now, but there is at least a scale to judge demon power. It's that scale, in the mind of trained wizards that they weigh all new demons on, and that kind of fixes their mental images of how big and powerful you are. You resisted them pretty well, so they figured you had to be some big powerful demon, so that's what appeared before them, a big powerful demon. Add to that, the fact your own will power and thoughts had something to do with it too, they can't just make you something you aren't, just reshape you."
“And, most importantly, the bigger they think you are, the more powerful spells they bind you with; it’s these bindings that infuse the Mana into your form, giving you the power you have. The bindings infuse you with a shit load of magical energy.” Tizzy suddenly interjected. “It’s oozing out of you, like butta!” He did the yenta voice again.
"Wow," Tom said., He felt he wasn't saying much that was intelligent or worthwhile most of the time; but the whole thing was just too much, too overwhelming to handle at once. It was exceedingly difficult to think of worthwhile responses at this stage. Besides, his bone deep weariness was rapidly returning.
Boggy said "I know it's quite a bit much to handle at first, but you'll get over it. Why don't you rest now, we'll come back and see you after you've had some sleep. Actually, you normally don't need sleep, but after heavy expenditures of energy, like you've just been through, sleeping is the easiest and fastest way to regenerate your energy field."
"And it keeps you from going insane!" inserted Tizzy.
"He's got a point, it does allow one to relax and get rid of tensions and frustrations," agreed Boggy.
"Yeah...well, I guess I'll just lie down here and rest," Tom stated.
"If you like, or off over that way," Boggy pointed behind him and over the pillar, "there are some mountains with caves. You’re welcome to find an unoccupied one and move in."
"Um," Tom stared over the edge of the ledge and looked pointedly down at the nearly bottomless depths below, "how do I get over there?"
"Why, use your wings of course, that's what they're there for!" exclaimed Tizzy.
"But, I don't know how, I've never flown before."
"Easy enough, just relax, think of which direction you want to go and go. It's almost like walking; don't think about what you're doing and let it happen naturally. It's natural, comes built in. But, just like when first walking, don't think about what you're doing, otherwise you'll screw up and fall," said Boggy.
"Just, step off the cliff?"
"Yep, easy as that, those wings know what they're doing, even if you don't."
"I don't know..." Tom said nervously, eyeing the long way down.
"Just try it. Here watch me." With that Boggy stepped off the edge and flew a few feet out before turning around to face Tom and hover.
"Well, got to try sometime." Tom tried relaxing, attempting to clear his mind of all the wild things that had happened to him. He looked toward Boggy and took a step forward. Trying to brace himself, yet remain calm, he walked three steps forward and off.
He lurched a little, but he kept concentrating on heading toward Boggy. It worked! He was moving towards Boggy, and his feet weren't moving. This was totally wild! It took very little effort, even in his weakened and tired state. Considering the nature of his new legs and feet, it was even easier than walking. Thinking of his feet he looked down at them, to make sure they weren't actually what was carrying him along.
Mistake! The ground was incredibly far below him, he was suspended in complete nothingness. His fright caused his wings to falter. He lost altitude. Quickly he tried flapping his wings to bring himself back up to Boggy. This didn't work, in fact he began to fall even more. Unless he could get the proper rhythm, his wings wouldn't support his massive bulk. He fell. Frantically he tried harder and harder, the more he worked at it, the less good it seemed to do. He was panicking, he didn't know what to do. "Help, someone please help!"
Up above, Boggy shook his head in dismay, an ironic grin of futility. “They always have to learn the hard way,” he muttered to himself. He took off after the plummeting Tom.
Tom's frantic attempts at catching his fall only half worked; occasionally he mana
ged to slow down a little bit, but not enough. He fell. His back quickly began to ache as the new muscles were taxed harder than they were intended to. The ground was rushing up. A miracle I'm still thinking, thought Tom. The long fall had certainly given him a chance to try everything he could. His muscles ached; he could hardly move his wings anymore.
Eventually, exhausted, he gave up. This is it, thought Tom.
Shortly thereafter, he smashed into the ground at terminal velocity.
Chapter 5
"Well what are we going to do?" Jehenna asked, as she looked up from the missive she had just read. Her gaze was directed at Lenamare, who was reclining in a thickly upholstered red chair behind his massive oak desk. His hands were steepled in front of him, his eyes lightly surveying the stacks of paper and books on his desk.
He looked up, but not at her; he looked over her shoulder, out the tower window. It was open, the velvet curtains drawn aside to let the spring sunshine into the richly appointed room. This was Lenamare's private study. Towering bookcases lined the walls, ancient tomes, carefully tended and dustless, crammed the shelves. Here and there, between books, were assorted implements of magic: skulls, vials of colorful, yet potent, chemicals, thuribles, beakers, cymbals, chalk and bone.
The floor was carpeted with a deep red pile rug. Four elegantly carved chairs were placed strategically around the room. The two small tables in the room, near the chairs were, like the desk, overflowing with manuscripts and scrolls. Lenamare was the headmaster of the school, he could live as sumptuously as befitted his glorious position and he did. The accouterments, however, were only that; his truly prized possessions were not the elegant and expensive furniture and rugs that he owned, no, Lenamare's pride and what he considered wealth, rested in the books and papers scattered across the room. For in these books was knowledge, and knowledge led to power.
He looked thoughtfully out the window. "What can we do? You know I can never submit to that pompous moron, Exador, even if the Archimage of Turelane backs him. I will not turn my school over to the bastards in that guild. If they want my knowledge and my school, and the other thing, let them beg for it. Let them pay the price."
"Exador says he's willing to use force to get what he wants. If he wants the school, he'll probably succeed."
"You know, as well as I, it's not the school he wants. No, that is only a cover. All that legal mumbo jumbo in there is just a pretext, completely made up. They don't dare let the rest of the world know what they want, and what we have." His gaze switched over to the bookcase on his right, behind which was a special, secret, magically protected safe.
"Well, whatever, I bet he's not above acquiring his own new school, in the process of getting the book. And more to the point, whatever else he wants, he'll be here in a few weeks." Jehenna pointed out.
"We'll be ready; this arrogant note has given us warning. We will not give him what he wants. Prepare the school for siege…and, just in case, prepare our escape route.
"I promise you. Exador will not get that book! It is mine and I swear to Hierelan, I'll fight to keep it, even if I have to destroy everything else I own to save it." Lenamare leaned forward and hit the desk with his fist to emphasize his point.
"Is it really worth losing everything?" Jehenna asked, knowing even so, that it was more than worth it.
"Exador thinks so, as does the Archimage. However, hopefully it won't come to that; Exador can't be expecting us to call a fourth order demon to our defense. He's got a little surprise coming."
Chapter 6
Jennifer paid little attention to the thin soup poured into her bowl by Grubeck the cook. She was still too keyed up by today's events to give the cook a hard time over the dinner offering as she normally did. She picked up her wooden spoon and turned to look around the small dining chamber that the older students shared. Rex and Alvea were seated at a small table near the only window in the room. She hurried over to their table so she could join them.
She sat her bowl down on the rough round wooden table where the other two students were sitting, and pulled out a third stool from under the table. The room was partially full. Howard and Levi were sitting at the table across the room and Willis, Bromagni and Cleo were at the third table in the room. Yrgeddin and Warren had yet to show up for dinner. On the far wall, from which she came, stood Grubeck, with his soup tureen, slouching boredly over the table from which he worked.
Rex looked up at Jenn and smiled, Alvea also smiled to her, but it was obvious to Jenn that the girl was more interested in making sure Rex didn't look too closely at Jenn. Alvea was actually pretty nice, but she was jealous of what she considered hers, and she considered Rex to be hers. "Nothing like a droll experiment to draw out one's appetite, is there?" Rex asked Jenn as she sat down.
"I still can't believe Master Lenamare actually brought in something that huge and ferocious this afternoon."
"Well, he is an extraordinarily gifted wizard of the highest caliber." Alvea said in her best imitation of Jehenna's sultry voice.
"Truly…" sniffed Rex imitating Master Lenamare.
"Even so, I think even he was a bit surprised when the demon blasted him."
"Blasted him? Damn near knocked the shit out of him, you mean," Rex said pointedly.
"Well, giving him the benefit of the doubt, he did manage to hang on, and bring it in."
"Gods, can you believe it? A fourth order demon. There hasn't been a new one that powerful in practically ages. And, we helped bind it." Alvea voiced the general feeling of awe the students felt at their accomplishment. "The creature must surely be centuries old. It was immensely powerful."
"I have to admit, I really never believed old Lenamare and Jehenna could rake in anything so powerful, let alone without more preparation." Rex conceded.
"I know. I'm still so excited. I never expected to see one like that until I was old and gray," Jenn said.
"It almost makes one believe Lenamare's incredible ego might be justified," Rex said, wistfully.
"Hierelan forbid. Nothing could be that big," laughed Jennifer.
"So, what's he going to do with it?" asked Alvea. "Now that he's got it."
"Who knows, I mean, you don't just use a fourth order demon to bring in well water," Jenn said, still grinning.
"Lenamare might," giggled Alvea. They all laughed at that.
"Actually, if what my friends in town say is true; we may need it." Rex looked at the two girls seriously.
"What do they say?" asked Jenn
"Exador's coming."
"Ooh. Well, that wouldn't be good. How sure are you?"
"Just rumors, but Exador and Lenamare have never gotten along, and I could see Exador deciding that he wanted Lenamare's school." Rex looked knowingly over at Alvea. Alvea had a serious expression on her face now. She knew of Exador, her home town was only a few miles from Exador's tower, and like all of the people near it, she knew of his passionate desires and expansionist machinations.
This was the first Jenn and Alvea had heard of this. It was slightly disturbing that Rex hadn't told them sooner of these rumors. He knew they’d want to know. Alvea had told them all stories of Exador and his men. Jenn certainly didn't relish the thought of falling into the hands of Exador or his men. Not, of course, that she or Alvea meant anything to him. He had no idea they even existed, it was simply the reputed brutality of Exador's legions that scared her.
Jenn looked over at Alvea, she’d need to talk with her later. Being from the south, she didn't know much more about Exador than she'd heard from rumors and stories since she'd arrived here six years ago. In addition to Alvea’s stories, she’d heard other stories from Grubeck and other older students, who had known of Exador's and Lenamare's conflicts of interest.
The talk around the table died as the three quickly began eating, hoping to take their minds off the rumor. If true, it could mean a serious interruption to their studies, which would be a good break. However, if true, then they were also in for a lot of trouble, which was
definitely not good.
~
Master Enchanter and Sorcerer Elrose arrived in his preferred spot outside of The Raunchy Orc in a flash of light and a scattering of long dead leaves blown away by the air displaced by his teleportation spell. Master Trisfelt loved this tavern for some reason, it was nearly 500 leagues from the school in the middle of a dense woodland. Admittedly, remote enough to avoid any spying or eavesdropping by anyone that might know Lenamare or Jehenna.
Elrose adjusted his djaellaba and checked that his nimcha was secure on his belt and headed out of the woods into the cleared area around the tavern. Torches along the front of the tavern created a feeling of security around the building. There were only two horses in the adjacent stables as Elrose approached the door.
Entering the tavern he was immediately assaulted by extremely loud drunken laughter to his right. He glanced over to observe two satyrs holed up at the corner table under the stairs; their backs to the wall, legs spread to display their wares to anyone in the room. Elrose shook his head at their crudity.
Further into the room, halfway to the kitchen was Trisfelt at his favorite table, already piled high with books, scrolls and of course wine. Elrose smiled and moved to the table and sat down.
“I see you’ve started without me, my friend.” Elrose observed as Trisfelt chuckled and gave him a twinkly eyed smile through his round glasses.
“Half the reason I started coming out to these woods was for the reasonably priced local beer and wine. The satyrs make exceedingly good beverages of almost shocking value.”
