And Down He Came (Alex, Small)

Alex paced the room, her mind racing through possible scenarios. After all this time, all these years, she now had the ring leader in her grasp. It was too perfect, too good to be true and indeed her situation would prove just that. For though she was soon to be left alone with the man who had fired the first bullet into her father, she had no weapon, no escape route, and no hope of survival. But such odds would not deter her from her life long mission.

Glancing about the lavishly decorated room she searched for anything that might be used as a weapon, but most of the room was filled with silken pillows and intricately designed tapestries. Apparently this room was used for nothing more than nocturnal recreation in which the young girl would soon find herself a part of unless she could find the much needed object of death.

Alas, time had run out and King Small was heard calling out a few last demands before retiring for the evening, his bulging belly preceding him into the room. “Ah, there’s my little wench.” He chortled, face redden from too much wine at dinner. “You do clean up nicely.” He moved towards her with a bit of a drunken swagger, an arm outstretched to touch her cheek but she instinctively stepped away, much to his dislike.

“You’ll not be so feisty once I’m through with you, wench.” He gloated, leveling slightly blood shot eyes upon her before he began to disrobe.

That is when she spotted it, a jeweled dagger that hung at his side. This was all Alex needed to give her hope, to spur her into action. Biting her bottom lip in thought for a moment, she took a deep breath and slowly approached the grotesque man, glancing up at him through her lashes in a coy gesture of innocence.

King Small stopped to consider this unexpected gesture, wondering what had caused her sudden change of mine but too cocky and full of drink to put much thought into it, he stepped forward, quickly closing the small distance between them. Again he reached forth a hand but this time she did not move. Wrapping a hand about her waist he drew her near, the scent of sweat and wine nearly causing bile to come to the girl’s mouth but she forced herself to not back down, she needed that dagger.

“Not so shy now, are you?” He smirked, his heavily lidded eyes drinking in her youthful body, a hand sliding down to grope her buttocks.

It took every ounce of willpower not to deck the man right there but she was too close to her goal to indulge in such behavior just yet. Instead, she placed a hand upon his waist, mere inches above the sought after dagger. Almost there. She reminded herself. But her thoughts were scrambled as the king placed an unexpected kiss upon her full lips. She had not expected this, hadn’t been prepared, and without thinking she punched him in his soft belly while simultaneously seizing hold of the dagger.

Stunned, King Small doubled over, groaning in pain from the surprise attack. “I’ll have your head, wench!” He bellowed as he attempted right himself but no sooner was he standing vertical once again did he find himself crumpling to the floor, this time with his jeweled dagger through his throat.

Alex watched in calloused intrigue as the man flailed about on the floor, hands grasping frantically for the object that was causing so much pain. Garbled sounds came from his lips as blood bubbled forth from his lips.

“Justice has been served.” She gloated, kneeling down to peer into the man’s eyes, watching as they glossed over, his breathing becoming shallower. A satisfied smile graced her lips when at last Small ceased to struggle, his body a lifeless blob upon his fine white carpet that was now stained with blood.

Taking a moment longer to bask in the glory of her work, she began to plan her escape. Fortunately, given what was supposed to be happening in the room, Alex was provided with plenty of time to figure this out.

The Creation (Loralie)

“What the hell….” I sat up on the moist grass, rubbing the back of neck. My body ached all over and my head felt like I was recovering from an all night binge. I looked around and wondered how I had gotten to the park, which was followed by, “Why am I still in the park?” Standing up, I reached out a hand to brace myself against a tree as a wave of nausea overtook me. I doubled over retching but to no affect. Once the sensation subsided I took a moment to collect myself and try to put the pieces together.

I remembered going to the Sunset to meet a couple of friends. All was going well, a few drinks, lots of dancing, and even more flirting. What went wrong? I mentally took inventory of my beverages but nothing suspicious came to mind, I kept my drinks in hand at all times, and didn’t except any from strangers. In all my years of partying, I had never ended up like this. Deciding that the best thing to do right now would be to go home, I left my helpful tree and slowly put one foot in front of the other.

Thankfully I lived only a few blocks from the park and I arrived at my apartment in good time. Slipping my key into the door and unlocking it, I entered my humble abode, tossing the keys onto a little table to the right of the door that also held my phone. Without turning on the lights, I shut and locked the door, briefly wondering if I had left a light on some where for I could make out the objects in my living room perfectly. Shrugging it off, I kicked off my shoes and walked over to my cheaply upholstered couch to plop down.

Leaning my head back I closed my eyes, going over the evening once again but my thoughts were disturbed by muffled conversation, “Huh?” Grudgingly getting up, I crossed the small expanse of the room, approaching the window and peering out to the alley below. I could see that there were two young men talking and gesturing angrily with their hands. I made a little tsk sound and turned my back on the inevitable brawl.

I was only semi-conscious of the fact that my senses seemed to be heightened by my unusual state and also that I was freezing. “Maybe I’m just getting a sick,” I commented to myself for there was no one else to hold a conversation with.

Walking into the bathroom, I started the water running for a hot soak in the tub, dropping in a few bath salts to help me relax and lighting the candles that I kept on the shelf. Slipping out of my clothes, I turned to toss them into the hamper when a cold chill shot up my spine. Looking back at me from the mirror above the sink was – nothing. Shaking it off as a trick of my mind, I finished depositing my clothes and then turned back to the mirror. I watched the light from the candle dance across the smooth service, I could make out the shadow of the door and the tiled wall behind me, but I could not see my face. Goose pimples came up on my arm and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Knowing that my imagination was getting the best of me, I flipped the light switch, blinking at the sudden brightness of the room. My mouth dropped at the empty space that should have held my reflection. “What the ….?” I asked aloud. Shaking my head I decided I had best get in the now steaming water, and rid myself of these strange effects. Without breaking my gaze from the mirror, I flipped the switch down. Pulling my gaze away from the square object, I stepped into the tub and sat down, stretching my legs out before me with a contented sight. Scooching down until my shoulders were covered I placed a washcloth strategically over my eyes and relaxed.


I don’t know how long I lay like that in the tub but it had been a while for the water was now cold. Standing up droplets of water slid down my body and glistened in the candle light. Stepping out I took a towel in hand and began to pat myself dry. Bending over, I placed the towel over my head, wrapping my hair up inside and fashioning a turban of sorts. Crossing to the medicine cabinet, I paid scant attention to the offensive glass as I opened the little door to display various toiletries. Picking up my deodorant, I quickly swiped it on and replaced it on the shelf, shutting the little cabinet. Removing the wet towel from my head, I picked up the comb off of the counter and looked into the mirror as I worked through the knots. My hand paused where it was at, as I saw nothing once again. “What is this?” Annoyingly I flipped the light switch up and studied the offensive object but could find nothing out of the ordinary. I flipped the light back off and came out of the bathroom, wanting to distance myself from the bizarre.

Stepping into my tiny bedroom that was barely big enough to hold my full size bed and a dresser, I went to the walk in closet where a small chest of drawers was nestled away. Opening the top drawer I removed a pair of gray panties and slipped them on, then reached into a lower drawer for an oversized t-shirt to wear. Once this basic task was done I flopped down onto my bed and stared up at the ceiling, my hands resting on top of my chest. That’s when I noticed it…my heartbeat….or the lack there of. A wave of nausea overtook me and ran into the bathroom, dry heaving into the porcelain throne. I felt as though I would cry from fear but no tears came to my eyes, it was if all basic bodily functions had ceased to exist. With trembling hands I closed the lid on the toilet and turn to sit on the cover, my head resting in my hands. “Oh, God, what have I done?”

Doing the only thing that made sense when I had a problem, I called my girlfriend, Bev. My leg bounced up and down as I sat with the phone receiver to my ear, waiting for her lazy southern drawl to break the monotony of the ringing. “Shit, where are you?” I asked the still ringing phone, willing her to pick up. Finally excepting the fact that she wasn’t there, I slammed the receiver down onto its cradle with a frustrated groan.

Being female I suddenly had the overwhelming need to eat chocolate. I can’t explain it, but I find it calms me when I am a bit stressed. Going into the kitchen I opened a bread box that contained not bread, but my stash of chocolate. Quickly unwrapping a dark morsel I took a bite, allowing the smooth dark chocolate to dissolve on my tongue but I found the task of swallowing to be difficult. I’m not quite sure how to explain this so that you will understand to the fullest extent. I was trying to swallow the food but the muscles in my throat were protesting to a point that it was actually painful. Thinking that this was some odd effect to the drug I had obviously received this night, I got a glass of water to help wash it down. With some effort, it worked but within seconds of this happening I felt my entire body rebelling against the substance and a dull pain begin growing from within my belly, coming in waves of nausea that intensified with each passing minute until I lie convulsing on the kitchen floor. Soon I found myself on all fours violently vomiting until there was nothing left in me.
Sitting on the floor in the corner of my kitchen I sat stunned and bemused, too weak to clean up my mess, and too shocked to move. “What’s happening to me?” I thought my face pasty but no perspiration or tears marred my skin, despite the fact that I was sobbing. Alone and confused I curled up into a fetal position and fell asleep.

Body guard on guard. (Sam Strong)

Sam Strong was not surprised by the report that his employer had been assassinated, nor was he considering to seek revenge for the killing. No, not any thought of revenge as he had never personally cared for the judge, matter-of-fact he disliked the pompous ass. The only reason for finding the killer was to help maintain his own hard earned reputation as the best personal bodyguard money could buy. Dispatching the assassin of a high-ranking judge would over shadow the fact that the ‘Honorable Judge Benjaman’ had been killed in the first place. The media was easily predictable when it came to their reaction when reporting a sensational story.

Strong knew well that he was in the immediate area from where the shot had been fired, he could ‘sense’ the others presence even though the person remained visibly allusive. Besides the gut feeling there was even a more certain piece of evidence that the shooter was very near...Sam had actually heard the soft pffftt of the silenced weapon when it was fired. A silencer was never a hundred percent effective and the signature sound it emitted was unmistakable to one who knew what to listen for and Sam Strong was intimately knowledgeable of that particular soft of sound.

When the shot had been fired Sam had dropped to the ground immediately and then belly crawled behind a large elm tree on the side opposite from where the sound had came from. Sam was sure the assassin knew exactly where he was and this actually gave Sam a bit of comfort since the shooter had made no attempt to put lead into him. Who ever was out there was a professional, he had hit his target and now only wanted to extract himself from the area as quickly as possible.

This small tree covered knoll had offered a perfect spot from which to shoot, the only drawback was that it had only a single exit route, without being seen, and that was by descending the backside of the hill and Sam suddenly realized that is exactly what the killer was doing at this very moment.

Raising himself from the ground quietly Sam listened intently for any tale-tale whisper of sound though he didn’t actually expect to hear anything; he didn’t. Darting quickly from tree to tree he made his way quickly toward the crest of the knoll with is 9mm semi-auto in hand ready for action, when he had drawn it he didn’t really know for it had been a reflective action.

Reaching the hillcrest unmolested the hunter peered ever so cautiously from behind the rough bark of a walnut tree that now provided his cover. There was only a few low bushes on the back side of the slope and from there about two hundred yards of lush green grass that ended at a ten foot high chain link fence. A narrow asphalt path cut directly across the field of green traveling a parallel course with the knoll, a foot path for people who didn’t come here to golf, but instead to stroll leisurely and commune with nature. At intervals along the path side were benches for the walkers to sit and rest if they so desired and stone water fountains were located near each bench. A relaxing setting to be savored and to nourish the soul for most, but not for Sam Strong, and particularly not now. On one of the wooden benches sat a lone figure, unmoving and with what appeared to be a battered duffle bag on the ground beside him. His back was to the knoll and to Sam. The man, for man it was, was wearing a long dark coat, maybe a rain coat, and on his head was one of those small crownless back caps similar to the plaid headwear that golfers used to wear several decades ago. The man had gray hair and his hands were not visible from where Sam now observed.

That it was the shooter that sat motionless on the bench Sam was certain, that he was waiting for Sam’s arrival was also a foregone conclusion. Sam accepted the invitation, he couldn’t resist. Sam moved down the short slope keeping his weapon pointed at the back of that gray head. Sam’s every nerve tingled as he shortened the distance to his objective, each step increasing the confidence of the kill.

King Small(Alex)

“Your Highness, we have a gift for you”

“A gift, for me? How kind of you, Fronwith.”

A filthy young lady was brought into the throne room by two men wearing black tunics. Roughly they pushed her to her knees before the king and forced her head down to pay respects.

“What is this?” stormed the king, disgust contorting his pudgy face. “A village wench, and a dirty one at that, I have enough of these. This is no gift, this is an insult and you will pay for defiling my throne room with such trash.”

“Please, your Excellency, allow me to explain.” The man’s face had grown deathly pale at the threat from the king. King Small was notorious for executing people in unusual ways; he took mercy on no one including his most loyal subjects.

The king leaned back into his over sized throne and rubbed his stubbled chin, “Very well, I will hear what you have to say then I will have you and this wench executed.”

The large man swallowed hard and shook visibly under the barbaric king’s gaze. “You are too kind, your Splendedness.”

“Enough with the buttering up, Fronwith, I grow bored looking at you.”

“Yes, your Highness.” Wiping his sweaty palms on the side of his tunic the man began recapturing the night’s hunt ending with their finding this girl covered in mud asleep in the rainforest. “Everybody knows your command about the rain forest, so I found her presence there most suspicious.”

The king eyed the muddy mess kneeling before him; her hair was matted and hung in front of her bowed head obscuring her face. “Bring her closer.” The guards that were holding the ragged creature lifted her to her feat and brought her to the step that led up to the throne. The king stood displaying a well fed belly. Stretching out one of his grotesquely swollen hands he brushed the hair aside and lifted the girl’s chin with his index finger. What he saw in her eyes frightened him and excited him all at the same time. If looks could kill he would have surely been a dead man. “Give her to one of the maids. Have them give her a bath and clean clothes and then send her to my bedroom.” With a wicked grin he added, “She can keep me company tonight.” The guards quickly moved to follow the King’s orders.

Returning to his throne, King Small now addressed the man standing before him. “You did well to bring her to me, Fronwith.” The still shaking man let out an audible sigh of relief. “Bransmet, take him down below.”

Fronwith started, his eyes bulging from his head. “But your Grace, you said that I did well. What of my reward?”

The king gave a wicked grin and leaned forward in his throne, “You’re right, you do deserve a reward.” Turning to Bransmet who stood to the left of the quaking man he said, “Make sure they use a sharp ax when they take his head.” Looking into Fronwith’s eyes he simply said, “Your reward.” and laughed as the stunned man was led from the hall sputtering a row of obscenities.

A hole in one. (Benjaman}

The relative short trip to the country club was uneventful and quiet; there was no conversation what so ever between the judge and his chief of security. The limo arrived at the golf resort exactly ten minutes past the time the rest of the threesome was to be there. Judge Benjaman and S.S. exited the vehicle as did the guard that was in the front passenger seat. Evidently the front seat bodyguard had received his orders earlier; be the judge’s shadow. The judge would have voiced some objection if his guard and S.S. had been attired in their standard black suits, but S.S. had obviously foreseen how conspicuous that would appear, so both men were dressed casually. The only thing about their dress that seemed even slightly odd was their over-sized light blue windbreaker jackets. The jackets appeared to be a couple of sizes too large for each man’s frame, however the judge said not a word about it for he knew that the jackets concealed various lethal weapons...tools of the men’s trade.

Judge Benjaman enjoyed playing golf even though he was not particularly good at the sport. For him it meant a bit of time to socialize with a much better class of people then was typically found at most other social activities. That is how the judge categorized golf, an upper class social function and particularly so at this exclusive club. Of course it was rather expensive being a member here and his custom made golf clubs and customized cart were also extravagant expenditures, but no doubt the common tax payers would approve of their money being used for such a worthy cause, the judge’s outlet for his stressful and arduous duties.

At the first tee the rest of the foursome were sitting on a wooden bench conversing quietly and sipping beverages. They quickly arose as Judge Benjaman rolled up in his polished cart and each of the three smiled toothily and attempted to out maneuver the others in order to be the first to greet the judge. The bodyguard had double-timed behind the cart and was now completely ignored by the foursome as if he were no more then another piece of the surrounding greenery. In the distance near the first hole green Judge Benjaman caught a glimpse of S.S. just before the chief security guard disappeared into a small stand of trees checking out all possible places of concealment no doubt.

Giving no further thought to the mundane the judge ended the brief chitchat with his constituents and set his ball on the first tee. It was a wonderful day for golf and he felt superb. Another hundred million in his bank account always put Judge Benjaman in a good mood.

The game progressed at a leisurely pace and at the end of the ninth hole Benjaman was up by two strokes. The judge was well aware that the other three were probably holding back and well they should for the judge did not handle loosing very graciously.

After a drink and a snack at the clubhouse located near the ninth green the foursome went back to their game in good spirits. The bodyguard walked along briskly behind the judge’s cart, still completely ignored. S.S. was staying a good distance in advance of the group, but the judge had long since lost interest in the man’s doings.

On the difficult tenth hole Judge Benjaman shot par, a feat that elated him since he actually accomplished the task honestly. He was up by three strokes now and felt sure he could get an eagle on the easy par three eleventh hole. Pressing the wooden tee firmly into the fresh mown turf the judge placed his ball on the peg and straightened his stance as he looked to the distant eleventh cup flag. He was determined to make this his best shot ever and he focused his every fiber on the dimpled orb that rested just above the tips of the manicured grass. He stood as motionless as a carved stone statue, staring at the ball and visualizing it soaring straight and true to the cup.

Suddenly the judge’s sight failed him and it wasn’t his eyes that were struck blind, rather it was his brains, brains that were now splattered, along with skull fragments and gray hair, all over his stunned golfing partners and an equally shocked bodyguard. The top and back of the judge’s head had exploded. Near the hairline on his forehead was a perfectly round mark about the size of a quarter, the entry point of a large caliber round. There had been no sound of a gun and the birds continued to chirp and the leafs on the trees continued their pleasant rustling as Judge Benjaman’s lifeless body toppled onto the bright white new golf ball that still rested on it’s perfectly shaped tee.

When the body fell the guard finally sprung to life telling the other judge’s to get down even as he brought out the concealed auto pistol, but there was no target in sight. The guard seized his miniature two-way radio and quickly rattled off what had taken place and describing the scene in detail. After he had completed his narrative there were several seconds of silence and then the guard’s radio crackled briefly to life.

“Roger” was the single word reply. It was delivered by Sam Strong.

A gut feeling. (Benjaman, Strong)

As judge Benjaman passed through the cramped office of his secretary he issued orders to the muscle bound man without even sparing him a glance.

“I’ll be departing by the main exit in one hour, I want two men stationed there to keep the press away from me as I go to my limo. Call Judges Wirkel, Conrad, and File; tell them to meet me on the first tee in exactly one hour.”

“Yes your Honor” was the short reply by the secretary.

The judge softly closed the door to his chambers as the last word of his directions escaped his lips, he didn’t bother waiting for the three word reply. He took a bit of satisfaction in the knowledge that those three fellow judges would spend fifteen or twenty minutes awaiting his arrival at the first tee, a good lesson in patience for his underlings. There was also a kind of sadistic pleasure in knowing that the three lesser judges would have to cancel or postpone any activities they had planned or which they might have in progress. Another lesson for the bench sitters; commoners are to wait on the judge’s pleasure for a judge is never to be inconvenienced. That any one of the threesome would refuse was not a consideration for they were completely aware of the fact that Judge J. F. Benjaman could make or break their fledgling careers within a short twenty-four hours if need be. They would be there all right and with huge phony smiles smeared across their ridiculous faces.

Judge Benjaman made himself comfortable in the leather-padded chair behind his beautiful desk; he then retrieved several legal documents from a desk drawer and hurriedly scribbled in a few words in the appropriate spaces on each form. After completing the paperwork he took a miniature tape recorder from the middle desk drawer and commenced dictating. Some of the dictation was for official letters that needed to be typed and other parts of the dictation were instructions to the receiver of this particular tape on what was to be done, how it was to be done and when it was to be done.

It took the judge fifty minutes to complete his ‘work’ and he now felt a need for the relaxation of the golf course. One need not attempt to accomplish everything in one day. Hell, it was only Monday and he’d already put in an hour and a half on the publics behalf. How much more could they expect of one man? No, he would have the rest of his appointments for this week cancelled and also the hearing for this week would have to be rescheduled. There was little since in killing himself for the job.

Having stuffed all the legal documents and the mini-tape into a large manila envelope the judge departed his office. This time on entering the secretary’s office the judge deposited the envelope on the battered metal desk and looked at he the burly guard as he gave his orders.

“See to it that Susan gets this at once. Tell the men I’m on my way out.”

“Yes sir, your honor. Sir, S.S. is in your limo.”

The judge hesitated a fraction of a second as he was reaching for the door that would let him into the now empty courtroom, only a brief hesitation hardly noticeable, then he exited the room with his mind now busy working on what prompted the shadowy S.S. to be here personally. Sam Strong, commonly referred to as S.S., was the chief of the judge’s personal security force. The judge did not fear the man for Strong was completely loyal to his employer and he was paid an extremely generous amount to be so. Still, Judge Benjaman did not like being around the man at all. Sam Strong made a person feel very uneasy, his light blue eyes seemed to look through a person instead of at them and there was never a trace of emotion on the man’s countenance. He was a medium built man on the far side of fifty with thick dark gray hair, a fair complexion except for a glaring white scar that ran from the bottom of his left ear to the left corner of his thin lips. Strong was also known, in certain circles, to be a cold-blooded and ruthless killer and the best in his business, that is unless one believed in unsubstantiated legends. If S.S. was here something was wrong for Strong seemed to have an instinct that warned him of danger, a ‘gut feeling’ he called it.

These thoughts and more quickly flashed across the judge’s mind as his Italian loafers tip-tapped a steady beat across the hardwood floor of the empty courtroom and then down the one flight of wide marble stairs to the main entrance. Through the glass of the massive brass framed courthouse door the judge could see the press with their cameras ready and boomed microphones waiting. He also was pleased to see a clear path some four feet wide that led straight to his waiting limo. Oh yes, the media reporters and camera men were aquatinted with the judge’s guards and how sometimes the brutes could ‘accidentally’ bump a person just a little too roughly. Unfortunate accidents could happen.

Judge Benjaman quickly descended the twenty or so steps from the courthouse to his waiting limo, the driver opened the back door just as the judge arrived and shut it immediately once the judge was inside the glistening black vehicle. The press people were obviously disappointed at not getting any comment from the judge, but it didn’t stop field reporters, most being very pretty young ladies, from chatting away into hand held microphones as cameras focused on the beauties with that unblinking glass eye.

The man who opened the car door for the judge got into the front passenger seat and the limo driver immediately stepped on the gas accelerating the vehicle away from the courthouse. The judge didn’t waste time as he questioned Strong even before he had settled himself into the limo's seat.

“Why are you here and why the extra guard? You usually find the driver to be sufficient, so what’s happened? Asked the judge pointedly.

Sam Strong turned his head to look at the judge, the cold ice blue eyes unblinking and showing nothing of what was going on behind them. As if contemplating his reply, Strong didn’t answer at once, but seemingly stared through the judge for a few moments, something the judge was used to even though it always felt disconcerting. Finally Strong spoke, his voice much deeper then one would expect.

“Can’t put my finger on it, just a gut feeling. I think your movements and the movements of those around you have been under surveillance for several days now; that includes me. I’ll up your security for a time.... just in case. As you know we won’t interfere with what ever your doing so just relax and I’ll handle anything that comes up. You are safe.”

That was it. There was no request, no solid reason, just a ‘gut feeling’. There was also no ‘Your Honor”, “Sir”, or any other such term of respect and Judge Benjaman knew better then to make such a demand of S.S. for the man would just turn and walk away and the judge would never see him again and the judge would not risk loosing the best personal guard because of vanity.

“I see” was all the judge said as he turned on the TV and watched the news as he attempted to ignore the chill coming from the man on the other side of the seat.

Night Out(Alex)

Alex had been walking for hours and her head was throbbing as testimony to her plight. Her damp hair hung in ringlets down her back and over her shoulders leaving wet spots on her tunic that the lady in the village had given her. Her breeches were dirty and torn from going through brush and stooping down to look at tracks. Her feet and arms ached from the many cuts and scratches that they had received from the long trek. Over all, the cowgirl was miserable. She knew that she would need to find shelter and soon but the terrain didn’t make for much to pick from. Spotting a tightly knit cluster of trees and vines she prepared for her camp out.

As darkness descended upon the island the rain forest became alive with nocturnal creatures. The birds had long since quieted down for their rest and now came the hum of thousands of blood sucking insects as they sought out any exposed flesh. To protect herself, Alex covered her face, arms, and feet with mud. “So much for feeling fresh.” She laughed to herself to ward off the rising feeling of panic. She had become familiar with the panic attacks at a very young age, the first time she saw an Indian raid. Her head would become swimmy as if she had just been spinning around in circles, her heart would race, and she felt as if the air in her lungs were being squeezed out. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her breathing, forcing her heart rate to slow – a tactic her father taught her when she began her new school shortly after they had traveled out west.

“Just close your eyes and think about something that makes you happy. Now just breathe.” She could still see her father standing before her as alive as the trees protecting her. He always smelled of pipe tobacco and saw dust. When she was smaller she used to sit on his lap, close her eyes, and savor the smell of him.

Alex’s breathing regulated as she thought about her beloved father but unfortunately the insects had no intent on simmering down. The forest was alive with the thunderous chorus of a million crickets. She couldn’t see all the tiny creatures but she could hear them and feel them, so much for a peaceful night’s sleep. Curling up into a fetal position on the forest floor, Alex closed her eyes and listened to the forest, anxiously anticipating the morning.

*******************************************************************


Something sharp kept poking her in the ribs as she slept, she squirmed around hoping to dislodge the pointy object. Again the prodding occurred and Alex roused herself from her sleep. Her mind suddenly updating itself on the situation and her environment. Sensing danger the girl stealthily grasped some dirt into her hand and opened her eyes feigning a groggy head. “Leave me alone, ma, just a few more minutes.”

“I ain’t your ma, now get up girl” more pokes from the pointed object accompanied the harsh words.

Alex sat up, still pretending to be half asleep. There were five men with spears and guns standing around her. They all wore black tunics with an emblem of a griffon embroidered in red upon their right chest. Their breeches were brown and they wore soft leather boots that came up to the middle of their calves. Alex was struck by the contrast of their dress in comparison to the villagers’ she had been staying with.

“Get up, I said or I’ll run ya through, girl!” Realizing that these men were out at night in the hopes of finding something, she thought it best to do as she was told. As soon as she was on her feet, two of the men grabbed her arms, leading her out of her protective cove.

They had only walked a few feet when they met up with another group of men clothed in the same attire. This seemed to be some kind of search party but what they were searching for Alex could only guess. After waiting for a few minutes the group was joined by five more men and together they all began to march through the rain forest, happy with their discovery.

Ship a'hoy(Evilin)

Evilin had lost track of the time but judging from the position of the sun it was fast approaching sunset. She knew that Luke’s hideout must be nearby for only a fool stayed out at night in the forest. The men talked amongst themselves in hushed voices, the only time they spoke directly to her was to see if she needed a bathroom break or a drink of water. Her legs and back ached from the unaccustomed riding, and she desperately wished that they could walk for a bit but she was afraid to ask such a request as she didn’t know how much further they were going.

Without warning the forest ended and a vast rocky beach opened before them. Evilin had never been to the other side of the island and judging by its appearance, she hadn’t missed much. Large rocks jutted up from the water to form a semi-circle with a small waterway that led into the ocean. The beach was littered with broken shells and pebbles that had tumbled their way onto the shore and seagulls loomed over head looking for a bite to eat. There were no signs of any other people and Evilin couldn’t help but ask why they were there.

“We’re going home, of course.” Laughed Solo with a wink to Chewie. It took the hairy man a few seconds before he understood the joke, then he too began to laugh.

Luke made a gesture with his head and the men set to work uncovering something in a nearby brush pile. To Evilin’s surprise they pulled forth a small row boat, complete with oars. Ben took the horses and walked them to the forest edge where he appeared to be talking to them. He sauntered back with a content smile upon his face. Evilin glanced around the man and saw that the horses had disappeared.

“You can help carry,” Solo nonchalantly put two ores in her arms intending for her to carry them to the water’s edge. The small girl stumbled and fell into the sand under the weight of the wooden poles.

“Think, man.” Chastised Ben as he removed the ores from atop the girl. “Just follow us and don’t try anything funny or your father can find his own way out of the slave pens.”

Evilin was too scared to try anything anyhow and wouldn’t know where to go if she could escape so she simply did as she was told. Once the boat was placed in the water the five of them loaded in and Solo and Chewie began the laborious task of rowing the vessel out to sea against the incoming tide. Evilin had never been on a boat before and clung to the side of the boat with all her strength as it pitched back and forth upon the frothy water. Noticing the girl’s white knuckle grip, Luke decided to try to make small talk with her in order to help her relax.

Once they came out of the cove the large four sail schooner that awaited them could be seen. Her colors of royal purple and gold whipped about in the ocean breeze and the ship rocked gently on the waves as if it were excited to see its captain return. Pulling the row boat along side the much larger vessel where some ropes awaited, they quickly tied off. Having done this they waited patiently as they were hoisted up by man power and pulleys. The crew that awaited them was a vast arrangement of noblemen, peasants, and free men who had come together under one cause – to rid the Island of Antipodes of the dictator James Small.

Justice is served, NOT. (Benjaman)

As Judge Benjaman entered the courtroom he felt that wonderful satisfaction that coursed through his veins every time he heard the bailiff announce his arrival. To see all the commoners in the courtroom standing with eyes fastened on him gave him an adrenalin rush, so much so that he even gave the sensation a name, Caesar Syndrome he called it, but only to himself.

The judge ascended to his throne and made himself comfortable before giving a slight nod to the bailiff that indicated permission for the uniformed man to allow the occupants of the room to be seated. Benjaman waited for the inevitable rustling and coughing of the people to subside then he rapped the mahogany gavel plate with his polished wooden hammer.

“This Federal Appeals Court is now in session. We all know why we are here, so to expedite matters in order to conserve tax payer’s money I will forego the formalities and have the defense state his case.”

Having made this brief statement the judge nodded to the defense attorney, Fleceum, to commence. Fleceum stood but maintained his place behind the wobbly folding table and he addressed his appeal to the bench. While the clever little attorney was orating the judge flipped open his laptop computer that he had earlier set up to his bank account where the money would be placed in the next twenty-five minutes.... or else.

Goto Fleceum rambled on for about fifteen minutes during which time he said nothing that would get his client off the hook. Judge Benjaman glanced at his computer, nothing yet.

“Mr. Fleceum, I said I wanted to save the tax payer’s money, not waste it on hot air (chuckling was heard from the courtroom occupants). I feel this court understands your position completely. Be seated and the court will now allow the prosecution to state it’s rebuttal, briefly I should hope” said the judge pointedly.

The prosecuting attorney stood at her table as had Fleceum; much to the disappointment of the judge for he was hoping she would approach his throne a bit closer in order to provide him with a closer view of her shapely figure. Karen Coffee was an excellent attorney, not only beautiful she was very intelligent and her appointment to the D.A.’s office had been strongly recommended by the judge himself. The judge’s admiration for the prosecutor was not for her legal skills however, he figured it was a way to see her a little more often. Also, according to the judge’s way of thinking, Ms. Coffee now had a taste of the power and she would soon develop a hunger for more. In order to acquire more power she would be forced to be friends with the judge. It was something James Benjaman was anxiously looking forward to with great anticipation.

A flashing pop-up on the laptop’s plasma screen caught the judge’s eye and he let go of the fantasy about Karen Coffee. The computer was notifying him that his bank account had just experienced activity; a deposit of one hundred million dollars had just been confirmed. The judge looked at the time in the lower right corner of his computer screen, six minutes to spare, very good indeed. Judge Benjaman punched a few keys on his laptop and the money was transferred to several different banks and from them to other banks and finally to the money-laundering broker he had selected. Completing his money manipulations he then sent a short instant message to his limo driver to pick him up in front of the building in one hour and to arrange for a tee off time two hours from now.

“Aw-hmmm, that was well said Ms. Coffee. The court understands your position; please be seated” said judge Benjaman warmly.

“The court does not find it necessary to deliberate in order to consider this case any further, the necessary and only possible decision has been reached. Though the defense served his client with little expertise, this court cannot and will not standby and allow unjust and possibly illegal police procedures to condemn the defendant. The eyewitness testimonies will not be allowed as evidence. Four Caucasians just happen to see a Hispanic man torture and kill a person, not likely. The D.A.’s office will conduct an investigation of the witnesses to see who committed perjury and to further discover if there was a conspiracy against a minority citizen of this great nation that was built on the blood of minorities (the press would love that one the judge was thinking). Furthermore, the defendants signed confession is also declared inadmissible evidence for this court has serious reservations that the document was signed without the defendant being under extreme duress and intimidation by law enforcement officers. The District Attorney’s office is to see to it that the arresting officers and other officers that participated in this fiasco are suspended until a thorough investigation of the matter is concluded and a detailed report is made to this court for consideration to evaluate if the law was violated by the Neanderthals that comprise much of our inept police force. Without the afore mentioned evidence this court finds reasonable doubt of the defendant’s guilt and therefore all charges are dismissed. Also, it is the court’s duty to point out that this has been a waste of the hard working citizen’s resources and a formal letter of reprimand will be issued to the District Attorney (another piece of candy for the press). Court is dismissed.”

Judge Benjaman arose from his throne and the bailiff immediately called everyone to rise as the judge departed the room. Judge Benjaman smiled to himself as he made for the door beneath his portrait. Yes, once again due to police brutality and stupidity, a questionable person is set free for the rules of complete justice must be preserved and administered at all cost...justice must prevail.

It was going to be a beautiful day on the golf course.

The Party(Alex)

Chewie stood next to Solo, his dripping wet clothes forming a mud puddle beneath his feet. “The least you could have done was remove your shirt and shoes, you big hairy rug.” Growled Solo irritably has he moved away from the large man in order to avoid sitting in mud.

“I thought my clothes could use a bath too” and the others laughed at the hairy man’s simple wit.

Luke swallowed the piece of jerky he was chewing on then looked apprehensively at the water. “There must be somebody else out there. Did you check by the falls?” Chewie nodded his head as he worked on a piece of bread. “Well, let’s finish our lunch and be on our way then, I see no need to linger.”

“What about the girl?” asked Ben.

“If she’s precious to the “King” then we will certainly need to take her with us.”

With that the men replaced the jerky and bread into a knapsack and prepared their horses for travel. Evilin sat quietly listening to the men’s conversation all the while she was wondering where the blind lady had gone off to. She had heard of Luke and his men, as had most of the island. It was rumored that he was heir to the throne before Jake Small arrived buying off the law and murdering those who would not have him crowned. If it hadn’t been for a quick thinking maid, Luke would no doubt have been lying in rest with the rest of his kin – six feet under ground. Once the would-be king was strong enough to hold a sword and form a plan, he gathered a few close friends to his side and began the long process of making King Small’s life miserable.

“Ben, put the girl on your horse, I don’t trust Solo with her.”

“Yes, Captain,” Ben reached out with very gentlemanly manners and helped Evilin to her feet. Then carefully he took hold of her by the waist and lifted her upon the brown horse that was awaiting its rider. Ben looked to be a little older than the others, there was a touch of gray over his ears and his face shown with wisdom and experience that can only come with age. He never seemed to be in a hurry but moved with purpose and grace.

As the party moved out Evilin took the opportunity to study the others starting with the one they called Chewie who was riding on a large black work horse. He was a big man easily standing a foot taller than any of the others. His face was covered in a bushy brown beard that merged into his hair making it hard to tell where the one ended and the other began. He had unusually hairy arms and she could tell by the opening on his shirt that he had a hairy chest as well. His voice was deep and gravely, and he seemed a little slow in the thinking process but was very loyal to his friends. There was no doubt that he would lay down his life if they were to ask it of him.

The other member of the party was Solo, a young cocky looking fellow with jet black hair. He had a crooked smile and could be considered handsome despite the deep scar that ran down the side of his left cheek . His greatest pleasure seemed to be in belittling others. Evilin was surprised that his horse could carry the man as well as his ego for it was truly a large one.

Luke had sandy blond hair and alert blue eyes, very little escaped him. He treated his friends as equals despite the fact that he had the final say on things. He rode his horse with a deceptive aloofness, his eyes searching the surroundings, and his right hand resting on the pummel of his sheathed sword. To be so young, there was no doubt that he had great intellect surpassing even his elders.

Although Evilin was frightened by her captors, she couldn’t help but be excited as well. She was riding with the legendary Prince Luke and with any luck she could convince him to help her father, thus ending the need for her to marry the king.


********************************************************************


Alex waited for bit to be sure the men were gone before returning to the lake. It seemed the safest and fastest way to get to the other shore where she hoped her clothes still awaited her. After a nice swim she emerged from the water and was relieved to find her things upon the rock, warmed by the sun. Quickly dressing she studied the ground to see which direction the riders took. Once discovering their trail she carefully made her way along the same path her mind racing for a plan.

Do the deal (Benjaman, Fleceum)

The judge’s pleasant musings on how nice it was to be above the law were abruptly interrupted by a soft tone emanating from his phone, it was the intercom line to his ‘secretary’s’ office.

“Yes?”

“Your Honor, there’s a lawyer here ta see ya, name of Gotto Fleceum” was the reply given by the heavily accented voice of the secretary.

Judge Benjaman glanced at the one-of-a-kind hand crafted Swedish clock that adorned his redwood paneled wall, still a half hour to go before the hearing.

“Tell Mr. Fleceum to wait” said the judge with a smile on his face and pushing the disconnect button on the phone.

The judge knew it would take less then five minutes to conclude the business with the conniving Fleceum and he had no desire to spend more time with the man the was absolutely necessary. It wasn’t that he disapproved of the attorney’s methods, quite the opposite actually. No, what he didn’t care for was Gotto’s ambition, it was earning him a reputation in prominent circles and that was unacceptable. It would soon be necessary to place a choker collar on Mr. Fleceum before his rocketing career could become any kind of a threat. It was much better to deal with these types of annoyances by nipping them in the bud.

While he had nothing better to do for the next quarter of an hour Judge Benjaman opened the portfolio that lay before him on his desk. He had already reviewed the case thoroughly and saw that the prosecutor had this one in the bag....maybe. There was always the possibility of an unexpected twist, a loophole in the law that could turn events and the judge had the power to cause that unexpected twist. Of course there was one more court that the case could be appealed to, but it was most unlikely to be accepted in that court once Judge James Francisco Benjaman made his ruling. The highest authority in the land was even now considering appointing Judge Benjaman to that group of nine and no one wanted to get in the way of that appointment for such things tended to be very detrimental to one’s career. The judge smiled, this time his gleaming white teeth were visible as a very pleasant thought crossed his mind, not for the first time. Once he occupied a throne of the nine he would become one of the untouchables. Even the person who appointed him would be subject to his power and the ‘law’ ensured that he could never be removed from the position. It was a very good life indeed.

In the secretary’s office Attorney Fleceum was attempting to find a comfortable position for his boney buttocks on the unyielding metal chair. On his lap he clutched a briefcase that contained a few legal papers, a note pad and a light weight laptop computer. The secretary had already searched the briefcase as well as the attorney’s person. Gotto was well aware of what the judge was up to by having him wait under the watchful eye of the secretary and it was a lesson he would remember, something to use when he himself occupied that inner sanctum.

The phone on the secretary’s desk emitted a harsh buzz and the secretary snatched up the receiver at once and spoke.

“Your Honor.”

A brief moment passed as the man listened to the phone and then he returned the receiver to it’s cradle without saying another word into the phone.

“Ya can go in now” was the gruff statement directed at Fleceum.

Gotto arose and went to the door letting himself in, the secretary’s eyes bore holes in him every step of the short distance. Fleceum now stood before Judge James F. Benjaman’s majestic desk with his briefcase in hand.

“May I sit down, your Honor?” Gotto asked as he started to lower himself onto one of the huge custom made leather chairs that were obviously set near the desk for visitors.

“You may not. You’re not going to be here long enough to get comfortable. I have court in exactly fifteen minutes so state your business and be quick about it” said the judge in a cold clear voice.

Straightening from his half sitting position the little attorney cleard his throat and got right to the point as he had been directed.

“Of course, your Honor. My client would like to negotiate, ah, a deal, a very generous deal.”

“I see, and just what does your client expect to receive from such a deal?”

“Your honor, my client hopes to receive a greatly reduced sentence, or even better, a dismissal of all charges.”

The judge leaned forward in his chair now and stared at the attorney so hard that the little weasel took an involuntary step backwards.

“Mr. Fleceum, your client is asking a lot. According to the case files I have here in front of me there were four sworn testimonies from eye witnesses that saw your client torture and murder a man. If that weren’t enough he has also signed a full confession to the murder, to extortion, to racketeering, to dealing in narcotics and has implicated himself in several other murders and assorted felonies. It appears to me that the D.A. has your client by the short hairs and a deal would require a lot of giving on your client’s part to even be considered seriously.”

Gotto had the wheels humming in his head now, he had been through this routine before with the judge and therefore he knew exactly what the next move had to be.

“Your Honor, my client is willing to offer five million for an acquittal.”

Judge Benjaman snorted with contempt then spoke ever so softly. “Mr. Fleceum, I’m tempted to have you physically removed from my chambers. Your precious client operates a hundred million dollar a month business, so if your deal doesn’t get a lot better very quickly I’ll see to it he is executed as expeditiously as possible and I’ll also see to it that you spend a lengthy stay behind bars yourself. Now quit wasting my time, you have precisely two more minutes.”

Gotto was aware the judge wasn’t bluffing and that he now had no choice.

“Very well, your Honor. What would you consider to be a workable sum?”

The judge didn’t even blink as he spoke.

“One hundred million dollars, a mere month’s income for your scum bag client.”

“That’s outrageous!” Gotto blurted without thinking. “He’ll probably have me killed if I agree to such an amount.”

“You listen to me you little snake” spat the judge with venom.” You agree or your client fries. Look at it this way, if you don’t get him off his associates are sure to kill you. One minute, the clocks ticking. Well?”

Gotto Fleceum looked at the judges unblinking eyes and realized there was no compromising to be found in the man, he had no choice at all.

“All right, agreed, a hundred million” the dejected attorney whispered.

“Good! Now get out of my chambers and if the whole amount isn’t in my account in thirty minutes your client, and you, are history” snapped the judge as he handed Gotto a scrap of paper with a bank name and account number one it. “One more thing. Fleceum, don’t ever forget to address me by my title again. Now get out!”

After the defense attorney had departed Judge Benjaman got up from his desk and donned his robe of office. He was humming cheerfully to himself as he considered which money laundering broker to use this time. Decisions, decisions, would it never end? No, the judge certainly hoped not. It was time go and administer the law.

"Judge not least you be judged" {Benjaman)

The Honorable James Francisco Benjaman, Judge; that is what the gold plated placard reads that is displayed inside the rich dark mahogany frame sitting upon an equally fabulous mahogany ‘judge’s bench’ that rested several feet above the glossy, hand polished, figured cherry hard wood floor. The room which the ultra expensive cherry floor supported was large and formal in appearance, Italian marble walls holding no pictures except for the large oil portrait in a silver and gold gilted frame. The expensive canvas depicted Judge Benjaman dressed in the full regalia of his office and displaying the appearance of both wisdom and piety on his silver browed and thin liped face. The imposing painting was located directly behind and above his massive hand carved throne-like chair which he referred to as his “place of business’ when the ornate seat was ever mentioned by the press. The room contained exactly fifty unpaded wooden benches arranged in two rolls of twenty-five each and were split to left and right of the room. These were not ordinary benches though, each bench represented an individual redwood tree that had been sacrificed to form the bench to a perfectly crafted seamless piece piece of furniture.

The front fourth of the room was partitioned off by a thirty inch high divider wall made of the best walnut and in the demunitive wall was a single opening in the precise center that allowed access to the very front of the courtroom. Just past the little dividing wall were two battered eight foot folding tables with dented and wobbly metal chairs shoved haphazardly beneath them. The judge was quick to tell the media that this was to demonstrate his complete impartiality toward all that came before his seat for judgement. In truth his Honor felt nothing but disdain for criminals that got caught and contempt for anyone that would let themselves fall victim to a brainless criminal. Entrance to this impressive courtroom was through massive double doors of elaborately carved oak fitted with polished brass handles and decorative iron hinges. Soon the double doored entrance would be unlocked to admit the ‘ordinary people’ who would be looking to Judge Benjaman to administer the law and, if necessary, determine the appropriate punishment.

Directly beneath the portrat of the judge was an oaken door, unadorned and unimposing, this door allowed access to the judge’s private secretary’s office. The office was a typical and impersonal as any cooperate business cubical, filled with filing cabinets, office equipment and a small gray metal desk where the secretary employed his craft. There were actually seven very highly payed secretaries assigned to this office, all were males an not a single one of them knew anything about being a secretary except how to answer the phone and how to intercept visitors who came calling on the judge. In fact, these secretaries were actually heavly armed bodyguards and there was always one on duty in the little office every day of the year arround the clock. Behind the little metal desk was another unimposing portal, but what lay behind door number three was anything but plain, it was His Honor’s private chambers.

At the moment James F. Benjaman was tilted back in a large over-stuffed leather swivel chair, a chair that cost more then many people earned annually laboring. The judge had the heels of his hand stitched Italian shoes resting on the top of his magnifican desk which was even more elaborate and expensive then his ‘bench’ in the courtroom. The Judge was smiling contently. He was smiling from the knowledge of the power he wielded and because there was no foreseeable end to his power and accumulation of wealth. Soon, before the scheduled hearing, he knew the weasely defense attorney would be requesting a closed conference with him, a conference that would undoubtly fatten his already swollen Swedish bank account. Judge Benjaman smiled even broader as he thought how good it was to be the law, but even more pleasing was the knowledge that society actually allowed him, and all other judges, to be above the law. It was a wonderful country indeed, this land of the free.

Captured(Alex)

Solo returned after a bit carrying a young girl over his shoulder with her arms and legs flaying about wildly, in his other hand a carried a basket containing berries and nuts. The girl’s dark hair tumbled in an unruly mess down over her face, obscuring her features from the other members of the part. A stream of profanities and ill wishes issued forth from her with such vehemence that on occasion caused Solo to wince as if he had been slapped in the face.

“Here you go, Captain’” and he dumped the girl unceremoniously to the ground with a thud.

“Well, I never…” began the girl but she was quickly silenced by one of Solo’s large hands covering her mouth.

“I’ve heard about enough out of you, missy. Now why don’t you be a good girl and tell us where you’re from and what you’re doing out here all alone.”

The three men stared down at the girl (Chewie was still searching the water) with a patient but stern look upon their faces. Luke noticed that Solo had several scratches and bite marks on his hands and arms and even a few on his neck and face. “She give you a hard time, Solo.” He chided nodding towards one of the wounds that the big fellow was rubbing on.

“She may be little but she’s all hellcat.” He said in way of explanation even though his cheeks and neck turned a bright red.

“All right, miss, why don’t you answer our questions nice like, and we’ll have you on your way if we see you’re no threat to us.”

The girl stared up at the men, fire shown in her eyes and her jaw flexed in anger.

Luke smiled at the girl’s defiance; he could easily snap her scrawny neck if he chose to do so. “You are indeed a “hellcat” aren’t you? Let me put it this way, if you don’t answer our questions then I’ll be forced to take you with us or just kill you. Your choice.”

The girl thought for a moment then agreed to answer their questions.

“Alright, we’ll start with something easy” began Luke, “what is your name?”


*****************************************************************


Alex finally made it to the shore and stealthily made her way to the protection of some nearby brush. Feeling confident that she was well hidden, she closed her eyes so that her other senses could better tell her what was going on around her. She could hear the splashing of water as the big hairy fella searched in vain for another person, she could smell rain that would be arriving before the sun went down, and feel the gentle breeze on her wet skin. By steadying her breathing she was able to pick up bits and pieces of conversation from the men by the lake. All though she could not see her she knew that they had found Evilin and that she was being her usual stubborn self. Alex felt the forest floor around her in search of some kind of weapon; she was quickly rewarded by a thick stick and a good size rock. Clutching these to her she waited to either be discovered or for the opportunity to rescue her friend.

Battle Ready (Dusty)

Feverishly the elven soldiers worked to secure the many hatches and shields that had recently been set up as protection against a troll firestorm attack. As the wooden fixtures were put back into place Dusty surveyed each ship with its captain to ascertain any damage that might have occurred. So far the inspections had turned up little, the wards spoken by the casters before the attack had indeed done their job.

Meanwhile the enemy forces Dusty had noticed earlier were fully massed in the small vale below them. The Troll leaders did indeed have Gnome casters with them, because now they were bending the rock into assault ladders so as to give several small squads a chance to attack the elven ships on the rocky cirque. Though it seemed as if the elves were not the major target, which would explain how so soon after touching down the elven warships had been located.

Checking over his charts, while at the same time keeping an eye on the progress of the gnomish benders Dusty realized that there was a medium sized human settlement about two hours march from his current location, which meant that the troll forces were massing to attack the settlement. The very circumstance the elves feared when they learned that a troll fortress had appeared in Gatshimntol Pass.

Dusty slowly strode out of the command hut. Walking toward the western edge of the cirque he contemplated the task forces next move. Considering the possibilities he noticed a small group making their way toward the mountain vale from the direction of the human settlement.

“Sir, the gnomes have nearly finished the steps.” one of the elven archers said rushing into earshot of Dusty.

“Very well then, take out every gnome that is visible. Be sure to hit them in both eyes so that they can’t be resurrected.”

“Sir!” he acknowledged. Turning and running back to his post the archer commander shouted out Dusty’s orders.

Weighing everything Dusty decided that his forces needed to help the small sortie from the human settlement dispatch the group in the vale, before continuing on with the attack on the fortress itself.

“All right gentlemen here are the plans…” Dusty started walking back into the command hut. “…we need to drop down and take care of the group down below us. Aktolan, the nearby human settlement has dispatched a small force to investigate or maybe even take on the troll forces next door. They won’t have a chance. We hafta help them out. I want to split our forces. Half will stay on the ships that I want to lift off and circle around the mountain coming in from the north with a hard landing. The other half will stay here and descend the mountain, using the gnome ladders, once the ships touch down. Most if not all of the gnome casters should be dead so the biggest concern will be the ability of the trolls to regenerate. If you take the head they can’t.”
“The Miarason, Shiatsun, Quebecoix, Rainbow, Mirrowbrook and Brighten will stay with me. You other six will be the air assault force, with Commander Waymarker in charge. You must hold out until we can descend the mountain, so you’ll be on your own for the first little bit. We they see themselves out flanked I’d imagine things will turn pretty quickly.”

“Aye sir, we will more then hold our own.” Waymaker replied.

“Good. Now Commanders Suntracker and Waverider I want you to summon the casters. Each of you take half of them and tell them to bend tunnels down through the rock to where the troll gnomes left off in trying to bend those damn assault ladders up the mountainside. Send word right before you break through for the ground units to rally and drop through immediately upon completion.”

“Aye sir.” The two replied in unison leaving the command shack to carry out their orders.

“Commanders Moontripper, Cloudwalker and Dirtmover will ensure that the ground troops are ready for their part of the assault. We should only have the usually Troll forces to contend with but outfit them with gear for repelling majic attacks too. Elemental shields, diamond armor and mithril blades I’d say should see us through.”

“Should we rig for dragonfire, Admiral?” Commander Cloudwalker asked rising to leave on his assignment.

“They need at least a full day to eat brimstone after a run. I certainly hope they don’t have access to more dragons then what we saw. We’ll just hafta take our chances. Let’s get to it lads.”

Killing time (Quint)

I spent the next several days resting, cleaning my equipment and taking short trips into the city to gather maps and information. I also took the time to purchase replacements for the equipment I had lost, I wouldn’t need a large arsinal on this particular assignment, but I wanted to have all my tools ready for use just like any other craftsman.

During these days of planing I did a lot of thinking about the words of Edwardo and of Calib Black and I finally reached a definate conclusion…I was tired of thinking about it and to hell with it. My life was in need of simplification and that meant just one thing to me, do what I do best and no petty for fools that got in my way.

With my preperations finally completed and my plans and alternate plans etched firmly in my mind it was time to get moving. I went down stairs to the tavern with my sea bag in hand for it contained some extra clothes and the tools I would need on this job. In the pub I grabbed a quick bite to eat and left an envelope on the table with Phae’s name scribbled across the front, inside was cash for the next six months board and a brief note letting him know I would be out of town for a while. I departed the Serendipity with the worn bag grasped tight in my left hand, I left without socializing for my mood was now that which had carried me through most of my life without too many complications, cold and deadly.

In the alley I found the sedan I had told Charlie, via phone, that I would need, an inconspicious looking vehicle with no history and no numbers on it that could be traced. Tossing my bag in the back seat I then got behind the wheel and retrieved the keys from above the visor. Death was going for a ride.

Eyes Wide Open(Alex)

After several days, Alex received a visit from the medicine man. He carefully unwrapped the bandage from around here eyes and tenderly wiped away the poultice that covered them. “Slowly open your eyes.” His deep voice sounded like a drum that cut through the silence. Everybody was holding their breath with expectation, including herself.

As instructed, she slowly opened her eyes. The little bit of light coming from a nearby lantern caused her eyes to burn but she fought the temptation to close her lids again. After what seemed like several minutes she finally looked at her surroundings for the first time but was disappointed to discover that everything was blurry. “What’s wrong? Why can’t I see clearly?” panic choked her voice and her heart felt as though it would jump out of her chest.

“Take a deep breath and try to remain calm.” The doctor’s voice gave her something to focus on and she relaxed a bit. “Now slowly look around and tell me what you do see. Describe it to the best of your ability so I know how you’re doing.”

Alex was surprised by the man’s use of words, his dialect was very different from those here in the village. She quickly pushed her questions aside and again focused her attention to the task at hand. Blinking her eyes several times in an attempt to clear her vision she began to describe what she could see. “The room is very dark but there’s a source of light coming from a table to the right of the room. There are three chairs at the table but I cannot make out the color or style just their shape. I can see a person standing by the wall close to the table but I can’t see who it is. It’s like I’m looking through fog. I can see shapes but not details.”

“That’s good. We didn’t know if you would be able to even see that much.” For the first time she noticed that there was somebody sitting to the left of her. He was rather tall even though he was sitting and his hair was a light color. “I want you to put this on your eyes twice a day.” He placed a smooth jar in her hand. “Leave it on for about an hour each time and hopefully when I come back in two weeks we’ll have some improvement in your sight.”

Alex muttered a “thank you” as the man stood to leave. He was accompanied by another person whom she figured to be her hostess. Turning to the right she found that the other person was still in the room with her. “Come closer, if you would, so I can see you a little better.”

There was a swishing sound that had become familiar to her over the past few weeks. “Are you Evilin?”

“Aye” came the mousey reply.

“Well, don’t go all shy on me now, not after all the time we’ve spent together.” Alex smiled warmly and reached out her hands towards the girl. Quickly Evilin scurried over, embracing her new friend in a hug.

“I’m so sorry that ya can’t see nothin’. What will you do now?” The girl had a flair for the dramatics as most girls this age do.

“I’ll do as the good doctor told me to do and hope for the best. What else can I do?” she ran a hand through her tangled hair absentmindedly and realized that she hadn’t bathed since arriving on this island. She wasn’t one to be picky but even she had her standards. “Evilin, is there a place where I can bathe?”

“There’s a little cove where the river runs into. It’s about an hours walk or so from the village. You can bathe there without fear of folk comin’ across ya.” Without being told the girl gathered up some items. Taking Alex by the hand she carefully led the way to the cove, chattering all-the-while about what life would be like in the castle.

They arrived at the pool of water just as the sun reached its peek. Even Alex with her blurry vision knew that this was a place of serene beauty. The moss and grass surrounding the body of water was a deep lush green and the ground was soft and springy. In the distance was the rumble from a waterfall that added continuous motion to the water. Birds sang from all directions and small animals scurried about in the underbrush that surrounded the clearing.

“I’ll leave your things on this here rock while you bathe.” Evilin placed a fresh set of clothing and a patched up towel on a large rock that was being bathed in sunlight. “I promised Mamma that I’d gather some nuts and berries for her. I’ll come back in an hour to get ya.”

Alex waited until she could no longer hear the girl before she undressed and entered the lukewarm water. It was very frustrating not being able to see clearly and she found that her head ached from the strain on her eyes. She decided to close her eyes to give them a rest heightening her other senses.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been floating about in the water when she heard the clatter of horses’ hooves approaching. Automatically her eyes flew open and she lowered herself into the water so that her nose was just inches from the surface. Anger welled up inside as she struggled to see the oncoming riders with no avail. Slowly she moved back towards the sound of the waterfall with the hopes of finding a hiding place. She didn’t make it before the riders came into the open, Alex could make out their fuzzy shapes but that was about it. Fearing that any movement would only draw attention to herself, she stood fast in her spot hoping to go unnoticed.

“We’ll water the horses here and break for lunch.” A deep voice sliced through the air scattering several birds that had been nearby. The riders dismounted.

“Luke, I think somebody’s here,” One of the riders had found Alex’s belongings on the rock and now carried them to the fellow addressed. “Either that or they ran away in their birthday suit.” A round of laughter broke forth from the four riders as they scanned the area.

“Have a peek around, Solo, we don’t want anybody stabbing us in the back while we try to eat.” Luke eyed the woods nervously. “Chewie, why don’t you take a swim, make sure there’s no creatures in the water that would want to ruin our party.”

“Why do I have to go in the water?” whined Chewie.

“Cause you stink!” came the answer which was followed by more laughter. “Now get going.” Taking the reins of two of the horses Luke addressed the other man, " Come on, Ben, help me take these guys to the water."

As the two men carried out their orders, Luke and his other companion proceeded to lead the horses to the water for a drink. Alex stayed fixed to her spot her heart pounding in her ears. Carefully sher turned around so that she could judge the distance to the waterfall or some other bit of coverage. Her stomach knotted as she realized she was still a good ways off. Scanning the water she looked for a rock or some vegetation or anything that she could hide behind but there was nothing. Quickly, she made up her mind to try swimming to the opposite bank from where the men gathered, maybe then she could slip into the woods unnoticed. Taking a deep breath she submerged herself under water and began to swim for the shore.

Remnant Adventure (Dusty)

Quietly the shadow slipped in behind the warrior as he walked through the threshold. A flip of a psychic switch and the powers of the ‘gene joke’ on piano would have no effect. His emotions would continue to be his to command. Sliding into a corner booth as smoothly as water flows over glass it settled in for the night, lowering the heavy woolen cowl sewn in as part of the wanderer’s cloak fastened across the slight shoulders of the newcomer. As the person shimmered into the visible wavelength, Giron noticed Phae momentarily hesitate his counter patrol, but continue on as before.

“See, know he will I said,” whispered the small figure sitting lithely on her steed’s shoulder. Absently rubbing her lower ankle the faere settled in and watched as Phae went about his normal barkeep routine.

Flipping the towel down from his shoulder Phae was wiping down the bar when a slight presence tip-toed across his consciousness. Hesitating momentarily he resumed the never ending job of keeping things going for the lost souls that frequented the Serendipity.


Sipping the flagon of ale Dusty slipped back to that fateful day that he had first encountered the young human male that would become the only human he ever felt worth his effort.

Gently the great battleship, Miarason, drifted in the wind. Dusty gazed out over the endless snowy barrens that populated the northern boundary of King Geishlahan's empire. Behind, eleven other wind ships identical to this one drifted, only the sound of timber creaking and ropes whipping in the winds could be heard. Sailing through the canyons of Marlahaim province this task force was running silent toward an encounter with a recently completed fortress of the Mountain Trolls. The elves had two major concerns with this development. The first was the proximity to the northern elfish settlements of a troll stronghold and the fact that the fortress only took two months to be built. That short a time frame meant that majic had to have been involved.

Dusty scanned the horizon for any sign that the elven plan had been uncovered. It was well known that the Mountain Trolls were not typically adept at wielding majics, which just added to the trepidation surrounding the new fortress at Gatshimtol Pass. So the chances that they had divined the nature of the elves mission was remote, but the Gnomes had been getting rather cozy with the trolls of late and the gnomes were much in tune with ley lines. The elves were also known to employ Gnome healers to supplement the elfish priests so as part of every ships contingent there is a supplemental healer. This added another level of concern as the true loyalties of the gnomes were unknown to their elven associates.

Flying true west the Battleship formation would reach the stronghold a little after dawn which would put a fresh sun directly behind them. In the distance Dusty noticed storm clouds boiling to the west, directly in the flotilla’s path. Curiously the wind was at Dusty’s back.

“Dragon Storm, Dragon Storm!” Dusty yelled running toward the signaler on the aft of the ship. “Batten down the hatches!!”

Suddenly every ship in the task force was swarmed over as the soldiers each ship carried began the task of preparing to ward off the oncoming Dragon attack. Slowly each ship slowed its progress and began to descend onto a small cirque that had been chosen to fortify. As each ship landed a formation of two concentric circles took shape as each ship completed its link in the ‘chain’ the soldiers scrambled to hook and fasten the boats together as well as fastening wooden shields and bulkhead sections so as to form shields for the men and ships themselves.

Slowly Dusty’s ship landed in the very center of the fortified formation finalizing the shielding. As soon as the soldiers completed battening each ship’s compliment of battle mages began to chant protective wards over the flammable aspects of the defenses, men included. The end result resembled a huge turtle tucked away in its shell with the outer lip of the cirque providing cover to prevent anything getting up underneath the shell. Just as the round of incantations was finished the first wave of dragons swept over the ships unleashing volley after volley of dragon flame attempting to ignite anything in view. The living flames found nothing to adhere to and so ended pooling at the outermost edges of the elven fortifications and dripping down over the rocky ledges onto the surrounding mountainside down below.

“Stand fast men. Their mounts are only good for three runs each and then they’ll hafta refuel. When that happens the soldiers will landed and go hand to hand. Look for their gnome companions and take them out as soon as you can. For any a ya that have not been trollin’ afore listen up. When a troll is cut by elven blades the flesh that is cut starts to mineralize so avoid their blows while you hack away at their legs. Eventually they will be held fast cause they can’t move their legs when they get like that move on and then we’ll go back and cherry pick’em. Archers aim for those pitch black pits they call eyes, if’n they can’t see us we’ll be harder to hit When your quivers dry up go after the frozen ones with yer sabre’s” Dusty bellowed to his troops aware that the same directions were being given by the other commanders to each boats compliment of foot soldiers and archers.

“We won’t have the benefit of our own ‘chanters’, they’ll need to rest also.” Dusty learned long ago that elven majic was tied into life force and so as the majics were used up the wielders need time to rest as one would from physical exertion, too much exertion leads to torpor until said individual was replenished. The wards over the boats did an excellent job driving off the dragon fire but at a huge cost to those casting, in fact three soldiers from each ship had to be assigned to guard the depleted mages.

Wave after wave of dragon storm swept over the impromptu fortress. Just when the smoke and stench increased to almost unbearable levels the muted world outside the elven fire protective wards silenced much like that beheld in the ‘eye’ of storms. Breaking a seam Dusty peered into the soot smoke and checked the horizon for any signs of movement. Seeing no immediate threat he ventured out and climber atop the protective hatches of the nearest ship.
“Alright boys they’re gone and them flamers won’t be back until tomorrow. Lets pack up and head on.”, Dusty barked as he started to survey the condition of the ships. Two thirds of the way around the cirque the mountainside opened up for the last third and gave an unobstructed view of a small plain several hundred feet below. Dusty watched as the plain filled with a small army of trolls and other sundry forces.

‘Damn’ Dusty thought to himself taking a moment to try to estimate the forces gathering against them. ‘Looks like takin’ off is gonna be a pleasure.’

Introspective of a killer. (Quint)

M-107 50 Cal. sniper rifle


The taxi delivered me to the Serendipity and I paid the driver giving him a generous tip for which he thanked me several times before he went looking for another fare. Standing in front of the familiar place I now called home I was looking for some little change, but there was none and I don’t know why I expected to see any. Maybe it was because the change was in me. Damn, I hated it when my mind took me to introspective examination, seemed I always ended up going in circles and never reaching any firm conclusions. As I put my hand on the door to push it open I hesitated a moment to listen to the soft piano music that was coming from inside; I knew who was playing and a flash of a happy memory flew across my mind making me smile. Maybe I should use my private entrance via the fire escape, but no, I was still sore from my wounds and, well, it wouldn’t hurt to just look at her as I passed through the tavern.

I eased the portal open and side stepped to the right stopping for a couple of seconds to let my eyes adjust to the dimmer light. It didn’t take long to focus on the scene in the bar where I could see a fairly nice crowd had come to ease their thirst and/or their minds. Caressing the piano’s ivories was the one I had expected and it was good to see her again, but I wasn’t of a mind to socialize right now, too many other thoughts had my gray matter occupied already. I saw other familiar faces scattered about the room including my ol’ pal Phae, I’d have to remember to pay my room and board before leaving again. I cut a straight course to the door that would give me access to my quarters topside, I didn’t rush as I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, but I didn’t diddle about either.

Back in my little room the first thing I wanted to take care of was a nice hot shower and I wasted no time getting into the rain locker. Afterwards, feeling a bit more relaxed, I decided to go ahead and shave so I moved in front of the mirror and prepared for the simple task, but looking at my reflection caused me to stand as still as if I were carved out of stone. It wasn’t what the Captain had told me to do that stopped me, it was the drastic change in my own appearance that set me back. Before my trip back in time my hair was salt and pepper, now it was completely gray, my eyes were now sunken deep with large dark bags beneath that were accented even more by the now gray eyebrows and my cheeks were hollowed looking and covered with mangy gray whiskers. It was a death mask that I was looking at, all except for my eyes, they were coal black and seemed to have a slight light in them of their own. Ripping my gaze from the mirror I checked my most recent wounds, most had healed and not even a scar remained as a memento, normal, but the injuries inflicted by Black were still tender and blazing red, almost as red as the ever-present circle in the middle of my chest. Thinking of Calib Black I looked back at the mirror and did as the skipper had suggested, it wasn’t at all difficult to substitute the reflection of Black for my own.

How long I stood there staring at the mirror soul searching I don’t know, hours at least for it was full dark outside when I finally forced myself away feeling miserable about myself and pissed at the skipper for suggesting I do such a thing. Reaching up over the bathroom medicine cabinet I took down a near full bottle of Diablo and gulped several swallows before lowering the dark amber container.

“Bull shit! Captain this is pure crap! I am what I am and that’s all that I am. Killing is what I do and those I target deserve it, I know they do, damn it. Just leave me alone!”

My reflection in the mirror made no reply to my outburst so I departed the bathroom and went to the main living area to get on some clothes, I then sat on the floor in front of my sea chest and taking out the necessary tools commenced disassembling and cleaning my weapons. About half way through the process I remembered the block of wood so getting up from the floor I retrieved the inconspicuous chunk of red oak from my coat pocket. One end of the block had a small blue dot and that was the starting point for the steps I had memorized for opening the puzzle. After going through the pushing and tapping sequence I gave the block a sharp twist counter-clockwise…nothing happened except that I got a large splinter in my hand. “Crap”.

I made several more attempts at getting the correct combination of pushes and taps and my reward was more splinters. Finally admitting defeat I took the block of wood and set it on the floor in front of my war chest and then taking my survival knife and using a pistol butt as a hammer I drove the point of the knife into the block with a lot of force, the loud ‘thump’ was probably heard down below in the bar, but at this point I didn’t really care. The block split open and I looked quickly at the half of the block that had a name printed on it in red, the letters on the wood smoldered and vanished as acid seeped from the wood to the surface where the name had been, a self destruct mechanism just in case the block was opened improperly as I had done. No matter, I saw the name if only very briefly, but it was long enough for I instantly recognized it and I smiled at the thought of getting to finally terminate this particular target. It was just a shame that the powers that be took so long about getting to this skum bag.

Removing layers from my war chest I finally reached the bottom where my eyes feasted on a work of beauty, the beauty that would put an end to a beast, my M-107 50cal sniper rifle, no, not a rifle, a work of art.

Questions to questions. (Quint, Edwardo)

I made my way down the wooden pier toward the Sardine which I knew would be tied up at her usual spot. Every now and then a swab would nod his head toward me or left his hand in a greeting, but none spoke, only smiled and then returned to what ever it was they were working on. The slap of the water against the pilings and the cry of gulls was a relaxing sound to my ears and the salt water smell spoke to my mind of adventure and new places yet to be seen. But no, my days of wondering all over the world were gone, I’d already seen far too much and some of the sights I wish I could forget.

The Sardine appeared as if it actually gleamed, it was that clean and well maintained. On deck the skipper was busy coiling a line and humming a ditty softly to himself as he performed the routine task.

“Yo, the Sardine, permission to come aboard” I spoke in a normal tone of voice for I knew that Captain Edwardo was well aware of my presence.

“Come aboard, but careful ya track no crud on me deck” the skipper said softly as he continued coiling the last few feet of the half inch hemp line and then straighten up from his work to eye me casually as I came aboard.

“Let’s go below and have a drink and a chat perhaps for ya have the looks of a swab with somethin’ on his mind.”

The Captain didn’t wait for my reply, but proceeded below deck without giving me another look. No ribbing and no hassle, he seemed to be in a serious mood and that was well with me for I had serious and disturbing questions to put to him. Odd how he seemed to be aware of my mood though. I followed the ol’ salt below and sat myself at my usual spot on the blue padded bench attached to the bulkhead; the skipper had already retrieved the glasses and the bottles of spirits which he placed on the small table so softly that they made no sound. As he seated his self on his rack I undid the cap on the rum and filled his glass for him and then I took the top off the bottle of Diablo and poured myself a glass full of the fiery liquid. I did not replace the lids on either bottle.

We sat quietly for a good fifteen minutes, just sipping our drinks and glancing at each other on occasion as if waiting for the right moment to speak. During this time I noticed that Edwardo’s injured hand was now completely healed, only a slight reddish tinge to his skin remained of the mysterious injury he had suffered. Having seen the attention I was paying to his hand the Captain finally broke the silence as he refilled both our glasses.

“All right, Quint, what be on yer mind? Lay it straight out, we’ve been mates far too long fer ya to run a zigzag course with me” he said with friendship and concern in his raspy voice.

So, for the first time, I told the Captain every detail of what had happened to me, of being in a different time and place, fighting with antique firearms, facing a hired killer who was nearly as skilled as my self, and of the woman with powers that seemed ‘unnatural’. I also told him of the wounds, though not particularly serious, they were more painful and then any I had previously experienced and were even yet still tender and mending. I even told him that for the first time I felt what must be fear, fear that my adversary might actually kill me, something I had never felt before.

I had spoken for quite some time and the bottles were three quarters empty by the time I finished. The Captain never interrupted a single time as he gazed at me the whole time with unblinking eyes that shone with a bright inner light. When I fell silent we finished off what remained in the bottles and the skipper got up and retrieved two fresh fifths for us to indulge in. He reseated himself with a sigh and looked at me, rather he looked into me and then spoke as if a father speaking to his son.

“Quint, I believe you’ve told me the truth as I’ve never known ya to lie to me, at least not about anything serious, and I can see why ya be so concerned. No, I don’t thing yer crazy, least ways no more then usual. How ya moved to another time an’ place I don’t rightly know, but ya did and there be no sense in questioning the how of it.”

The skipper looked down at the table for his glass as he spoke of moving in time. Was it just coincidence or was he not telling me everything? No, of course he was and I’m just too suspicious for my own good. I focused on Edwardo as he continued.

“Now that Calib Black swab sounds a lot like someone I know. He be a hired killer and he surely sounds good at his work to have put lead in ya, probably the best there was at that time and place. Remind you of anyone?” the Captain asked giving me a half smile.

I took a drink and didn’t answer the question, instead I just replied “Continue.”

Captain Edwardo shrugged and then continued with his opinion on the matter. “The witch woman be obviously just what you think she is, a witch, and don’t snort about it. There be folks with powers that are far beyond yer understanding and a few even beyond mine” he said with a wink. “Any how, I think the important thing here is what YOU think, in particular what you think of Calib Black. Is he good or evil for doing what he does or is he neither, just a man doing a job? Think on it mate.”

“What the hell is there to think about, the bastard was out to kill me and nearly done it. Why should I care if he’s a good guy or a bad guy? Damn! I was hoping you could give me answers and you come out with nonsense questions. I stood up and paced impatiently back and forth across the cabin, a matter of two steps in each direction.

“Quint! Ya have chum for brains, but try to use that stinking chum fer something besides shark bait. Now sit yer barnacled ass back down and don’t ya even think about raisin’ yer voice at me again in anger. I’d hate to have to put ya in yer place, but if I must then permission is given to me to do so.

I threw myself back onto the seat and was rewarded by the sharp crack of my skull against the cold bulkhead. ‘Damnation’ I said under my breath as I didn’t want the skipper to think I was cussing at him. For some reason I knew the ol’ salt could tie my tail in a knot and I knew I would never lift a hand to stop him for I could never harm this man, never. Instead I looked at him somewhat puzzled by his last comment.

“What do you mean “permission is given”? Since when did you ever have to have permission from anybody to abuse me, ya old scalawag?”

Edwardo smiled now and the feeling of a storm immediately dissipated as he spoke lightly as if nothing had ever occurred.

“Never ya mind about that. What I want ya to do is go back to yer room at the Serendipity and look in the mirror and picture the reflection there as being that Black swab and then ya think about the question of good or evil. Quint, mate, some answers ya have to find fer yourself, I can only point ya toward the right course. Yer old enough to know I be telling ya the straight of it and ya knows in yer heart that I be right.”

Nodding my head in consent I headed for the open deck with the skipper fast on my hills. We shook hands at the top of the gangway and I made quickly to the pier, but the skipper spoke my name softly and I stopped and turned about to hear his words.

“Mate, be careful on the mission they be sending you on this time. The name in that block of wood has more danger fer ya then ya can imagine.”

“Yeal, sure thing” I replied. As I walked down the pier and didn’t give a second thought as to how the Captain knew about the block of wood in my pocket much less that it held the name of my next assignment. So many strange things had been happening to me here lately that it was a trivial matter compared to the other goings on. I went to the end of the pier and flagged down a hack.

Soul Searching (Will)

The cave was about a two hour walk from the main village of Nordel and was nestled in among lush trees and flowering brush. The cave was virtually invisible to the naked eye unless one knew what they were looking for. There were torches in gold sconces lining the curved walls and a large fireplace was positioned on the back wall allowing the cave to be warmed during colder weather. An ornately carved round table was the only furniture in the place and this is where Will found himself quietly sitting as the council discussed some problem with something called the Beholder. Most of the discussion was foreign to him, there were things mentioned that he had never heard tell of before – driders, dracolythes, orcs, trolls – but there was one word he understood quite well – war. Will desperately tried to wrap his brain around this strange new world he had stumbled into but logic kept hindering his ability to absorb the information that was being presented to him. He found the cave that they had retreated to disturbingly bright and airy, unlike the ones he was used to exploring back home, which only further distracted him.

“William will ride out with Lith in the morning to gather the others.” Lutrol’s voice broke through the commotion in Will’s brain and he jerked his head back as if he had been struck in the face.

“Excuse me, Father, but did I understand you correctly? You wish me to take part in the preparations of this war but…”

Before he could finish Lutrol gave a small chuckle and smiled patiently at his son, “You will be doing more than just helping with the preparations, Son, you will be fighting along side me.” As if that answered everything he turned his attention back to the conversation at hand leaving Will completely dumfounded.

After several more hours of discussion and planning the council finally adjourned. Will lagged behind hoping to have a word with his father in private but was disappointed to see that the centaur was still chatting with the elf. Sighing, he reluctantly found his way back into the village, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his concerns.

There was much activity on the ground as the evening meal was being laid out in an elaborate spread on the forest floor in recognition of their honored guest. Will desperately wanted to retreat to the sanctuary of his room but knew that that would be frowned upon. Finding his place at the head table he sank down into his chair resting his chin in his hands.

“My dear brother, what has you so deeply troubled?” Emarl asked as she gracefully slipped into her chair next to him.

Will was touched by her concern but felt it better to hide his true thoughts until he could speak with his father. He wrote off his brooding to hunger and fatigue which Emarl seemed to believe willingly. Thankfully, any further discussion of the matter was put to an end with the arrival of the food and serving of the wine.

Will was not lying when he said he was hungry and he ate enough to prove it. Unfortunately, he drowned his concerns in the wine and was soon overcome with its euphoric effect. At the end of the celebration, Will was so severely under the influence of the elven wine that his cousin, Lith, had to help him up the ladder to the tree house for fear that the boy would fall to his death in his current state.

After sleeping for a few hours, Will awoke to the sound of muffled voices in the adjacent room. Groggily he got to his feet taking a moment to get his bearings and allow the drumming in his head to subside a bit. With a stealth that only an elf could claim he crept to his bedroom door to listen.

“Father, are you sure this is the best thing for him?” It was the voice of Emarl that came first to Will’s ears. “He’s a delivery boy, what does he know of wars?”

“I’m aware of what he did in the human world but that does not matter here. In Nordel he is a prince and therefore he will do this. He must earn the respect of the people.” Lutrol’s voice was firm and a bit agitated as if they had been on this topic for a little while.

“He is rather good with the bow,” Lith’s voice rang in with a note of pride for it was he that had taught Will this skill. “I would trust him with my life, Emarl. He is ready for this.”

“And what does he say about all of this? Did either of you bother to find out?” Emarl asked her voice rising an octave in her frustration to get her father to see the logic in what she was saying.

“I told you already that I didn’t get a chance to converse with him as I was preoccupied with Tavalox and then when the opportunity did arrive Will was already senseless from the wine.”

“I’m not now.” Will stepped into the room startling the trio. Although his eyes were still bloodshot and the hammering in his head persisted, his mind was clear. He knew that what he said tonight would shape his future forever.

“How long have you been listening?” asked Lutrol from his seat next to the smoldering fire.

“Long enough,”

“And how do you feel about the task at hand?”

Will looked into each of their faces and when his eyes came to rest back on his father he knew what he wanted to say. “I’ll admit that at first I was stunned by your appointment but now I realize why you did it. Whether I want the position or not, I am your son, and with that goes certain responsibilities. If I walk away from this, I will be haunted for the rest of my life. We’re not only fighting these dark creatures for the elves, but for all that is good and innocent. How can I turn my back on that? How can I say no?”

The room was silent, only the chirping of the crickets below and the song of the tree frogs could be heard echoing throughout the forest. After what seemed like an eternity to Will, his father stood up and embraced him. “No matter what comes of this, know that I am proud of you.” With tears in her eyes, Emarl joined in on the hug and for the first time the three were united.

Later that night, Will lay on his bed lost in thought. He was as much surprised by his little speech as the others had been but he knew that he had spoken the truth. His thoughts drifted to Alex as they often did and he felt a pang of guilt at having to postpone his search for her. But how could he even think of starting a relationship with her when there was a monster loose that threatened to destroy the very peace and happiness he sought.

Finally, his mind quieted enough to allow the boy a few hours of sleep before he and Lith would have to set out in search of others who would rally with the Elves of Nordel to fight against the evil of the Forest of Hereanafter.

Dusty Trailwalker

The sweet sounds from the piano lazily drifted through the room. Casually the notes caressed the sundry patrons of the Serendipity, helping each into a place they individually wanted to be. Rosey played songs that seemed appropriate for the situations she observed from her elevated perch. Her being was such that not playing caused a build up of emotions that found release through the fondling of the black and white ivories found on a keyboard.

Casey just sat at this point waiting for either Mike or Gabe to reply in response to her story. She had just related to them the story of her banishment to earth as it related to the Great Rebellion.

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Dusky Trailwalker continued to walk the now muddy trail, as he had for the past twenty three days. Fortunately the rainstorm was only four days old. His elven cloak and dragon skin cap kept him relatively dry, but did nothing for the cold. He hated cold. It reminded him of his service as King Geishlahan's captain of the guard. Fifty seven years of dedicated service with only ice drake scars and several medals for winning a handful of skirmishes against the mountain trolls to show for it. The northern frontier was no place for an elf, let men guard those outposts. Elves are made for the forest and plains, with some even suited for the waterways of Urth. Regardless Dusky was now his own elf and could come and go throughout the lands as he wished, or so he thought.

The horses were upon him from around the bend before he really had a chance to react. Normally he would have heard them well before they saw him, but the rain and his preoccupation with the cold took all Dusky's concentration. Regardless th reason, the ditch from which he extracted himself was still full of cold water and a wet season's worth of gakage. Now from head to toe and from outside to bone Dusky was soaked. which only made the cold worse. King Geishlahan's was never like this.

Methodically he continued down the trail. Only now he was paying more attention to his surroundings. He did not recognize the garb worn by the horsemen, but men at arms were a dime a dozen in these troubled times. Whatever evil was afoot in the lands of Urth seemed to draw men from corners only talked about in stories, until now.

Slowly as Dusky topped a rise in the road an inn became visible through the rain and fog. He could also see a small village, half a day’s walk in a small vale beyond the inn.

" Friendly Waters", Dusky spoke as he read aloud the inn's placard. "We shall see."

Pushing the outer door open and then shut behind him Dusky was struck by two things first the smell of a delicious stew simmering over the fire and a fist that caught him square on the jaw .

" That's fer spookin' my horse ya damn sneak thief.", added the gentleman who'd stunned Dusky with a sound uppercut.

" Who the hell are you?", Dusky asked raising himself off the floor and rubbing his jaw.

"You damn near made my horse throw me back 'ere on da road."

"Well then let me apologize and introduce myself." Dusky said as he bowed slightly.

Suddenly Dusky pinned the man to the foyer wall with an arm across his throat while the other held a wicked looking dragon sabre below the man's nose.

"Name's Dusky Trailwalker, and I'll cut your heart out and feed it to you and your buddies if you ever touch me or another elf again." With that Dusky let the man down, sheathed his sword, and sauntered into the common room.

Ambling from behind the bar, Phae greeted the elf with a hug before he was half way across the floor.

“Good to see you again.”

“Good to finally have some down time Phae.”

“Have a seat. What can I get you?”

“Flagon of ale to start.”


“ We were sent to make sure you were ok, Casey. I think we have a report to give to Father.” Mike said as he pushed his seat back from the table and stood up.

“Don’t come back unless it’s my time guys. I’m here for the long haul and I won’t have you two poisoning anyone against me.”

Gracefully, hardly touching the floor the two ‘brothers’ left the warm confines of Serendipity.


“I’m glad I was able to find you.”

“I told ya I’d always be there Phae. What’s up?”

“I’m thinking to make some changes Duse and you can help with it.”

Nodding his head slightly in contemplation of his friend’s word Dusty Trailwalker swallowed the first slug of what will turn out to be an interesting round.

Tidings of Bad News(Will//Tavalox,Lutrol)

Over the next few weeks Will spent his time learning as much as he could about his cousins and the elven way. Despite his desire to see Alex again, he was really quite content to be in Nordel. He had been told that time passed differently here, that what seemed like a week here is like a month in the outer world. At first he scoffed at this absurd notion but now that he was a part of Nordel, he believed that this idea could very well be possible. The weather always seemed too pleasant – just the right temperature, just the right amount of rain. The vegetation was so lush and green that he found one could sit idly gazing at the forest around him for hours taking in its beauty and serenity. Each evening he spent with his father and sister sitting around the fire place listening to elven folklore. The longer he was there the further away his other home seemed to drift, until it became nothing more than a memory or a place he sometimes visited in his dreams. Unfortunately, peace is not to be had by those who have yet to fulfill their destiny, and so, one day, William Paris’ time of rest came to an end.

While shooting target with several of his cousins a visitor came to Nordel. Will eyed the creature with much curiosity having never seen such a thing before – it was half man and half horse. He held himself with an air of importance, his dull brown hair glistening with the perspiration of his journey. The beast was accompanied by five other younger looking man/horse things, each in varying colors but all roughly the same size. Lutrol greeted them with a deep bow and escorted them to a nearby spring where they could refresh themselves. Will would not see them again until later that evening at a feast that was to be held in their honor.

Of course, Will wasted no time in asking his cousins several questions about these strange visitors. He was surprised to learn that they were centaurs from the Forest of Hereanafter, the eldest one being none other than Tavalox, chief of the centaurs. Even the elves seemed surprised by his visit and all were curious to know the reason behind it.
Will found the history of these creatures rather interesting. He was also relieved by their presence for it proved that Alex had indeed spoken truthfully about her experience in the forest. A chill ran down his spine as he recalled the other parts of her story in the forest and in the mountain; he felt an overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around her and protect her from any more harm. As always when his thoughts strayed to the young ‘cowgirl,’ he felt a pang in his heart that tore at his very soul. Shaking his head to clear his musings he resumed his bow practice with his cousins, pushing aside the foreboding feeling that had settled like a rock in his stomach.


*******************************************************************



“I welcome you and your companions to Nordel, great Tavalox.” Lutrol gave a low bow to the regal guest. “If you wish I will personally escort you to the spring where you may refresh yourselves after your long journey.”

“Thank you, Lutrol” the aging centaur gave a slight nod of his head in respect of the elf’s royal position. “You may forego any further formalities; after all you are one of my oldest and dearest friends.” Lutrol gave a warm smile, but still took his guest personally to the stream leaving instructions with some nearby elves to bring food and drink suitable for the centaurs to the water’s edge.

After the centaurs had bathed and eaten Lutrol felt it appropriate to ask why the ancient centaur had came to Nordel.

“Serataom has died but before doing so she made one last reading of the stars.” Tavalox turned to his companions and instructed them to return to the main village and mingle with the elves. Once he was sure that they were out of hearing range he repeated what Serataom had last said.

“The half-breed has returned home at last and will soon learn his fate. The stranger has sailed to a new land where she will face her past once and for all . . . .

The warrior has challenged himself and has walked away the victor of that battle. However, the dog and cat still fight. Who shall win is shrouded in fog. . . .”

Lutrol sat quietly for a few moments, pondering the strange words. “Who is the ‘warrior’?

“We don’t know. I haven’t heard or seen any great warrior but I have my eye on a few possibilities – one of which is a young boy with blue tattoos on his head. He proved to be quite a fighter at a raid that took place several months ago in a little town. Of course warriors can fight in many different ways, not just physical.”

“Mmmm. And the half-breed?”

“We believe this to be your son.”

Lutrol looked into the faded blue eyes of the centaur, trying to see if he was serious. “Surely there are many other half-breeds out there. William can’t be the only one.”

“This is true. But he is the only one that returned home at the time of this reading.”

Lutrol rubbed his chin for a moment in contemplation. “You’ve never put much stock in the stars before, why now?”

The old centaur gave a soft chuckle, “I never have been able to slip anything past you, dear elf. The truth of my visit is I came to give you news of our leaving. Even as I sit here with you the herd is moving to a new forest.”

The elf stared at his friend in astonishment. “Leaving, but why? With you gone the creatures of the forest will have no boundaries.”

“They have already left their boundaries. The Borg was so outraged at the escape of two of his slaves, one of which I believe was an elf, that he has declared war on all creatures that refuse to do his bidding. I am too old and tired to go to war. My herd has thinned enough; I do not wish to shed their blood on a futile cause when I can find peace elsewhere.”

“But with you gone the humans will be at risk…”

“The humans don’t even know we exist. They do not follow the treaty that was put in place so long ago. Just this past year we have had five known violations. All were peaceful and innocent enough but it’s just a matter of time before they claim the forest as theirs as well. No I do not wish to do battle; the time of the centaur has passed. We will do as your kind did and retreat to a distant forest where in time we can pass into the mists and be forever more separated from the outside world.”

“We are separated yes, but we still fight for what is right. The Borg cannot be left unattended. It must be stopped before his forces leave the forest. It is an evil that cannot be left unchallenged.”

“And who will stop him? It will take more than the elves of Nordel to accomplish such a task.”

“We will have to ask the humans for help…”

“Ha! The humans don’t even know we exist. If they see you they will laugh and turn you into one of the freaks in their bizarre circuses.” The centaur got up from his comfortable spot under the tree and walked to the edge of the water. “If you are wise, you will stay in Nordel and allow the fate of the outer world to take place.”

Lutrol looked at the centaur with sympathy. He could now see the specks of gray streaking his back and hind quarters, see the wrinkles lining his face. He was indeed ancient and this would be a young person’s war to fight. “You do what you feel you must. I pray that the gods grant you the peace and sanctuary that you so desire. Let us put aside this burdensome talk for now, for my elves have prepared a fine feast in your honor. Come let us join them and enjoy some lighthearted fellowship tonight. Tomorrow we shall meet with my council to see what can be done about the Borg.”

Together the two aging leaders entered into the heart of Nordel where they found the tables already loaded with their delicious burden and the beautiful music of the elves enveloping the forest around them.

A Son's Wrath(Will)

Will wandered alone in the forest until exhaustion overtook him and he collapsed in a small glade. Alone with only nature, he allowed his thoughts to drift wherever they chose. Closing his eyes he surrendered his spirit to sleep bringing an end to the confusion.

He wasn’t sure how long he had slept when he heard soft footsteps coming towards him; without looking he knew that it was his father that approached. “Am I expected to stay here then, to be prince?” he spat the last word as if he had tasted something bitter.

“Of course not, you are free to go just as you always were.” Lutrol spoke with compassion despite his son’s sulky expression. “You are prince by blood and that is all. It must be your choice to lead the people.”

“And if I choose not to?”

Lutrol was secretly pleased at this question for it showed that William was indeed bonding with the elves of Nordel just as he had hoped. “Your sister can rule in your place. You will find that we are not a complicated people, we accept things as they are.”

Lutrol took a seat on a soft patch of moss so that he could be level with his son. He did not like to make others feel inferior which was a hard task given his height. “I know that you wish to leave soon in search of Alexandra but you must not go just yet.”

“But you said I was free to leave…”Will’s face contorted in anger.

Raising a hand to silence the young man, Lutrol continued “There is something that she must do first, without you, and that time has not arrived yet. Just as you must learn about your past, so must she. Alexandra has her own tests to pass but I assure you that she is safe at the moment.”

“How do you know this? Have you seen her?” Will looked past his father into the woods expecting to see the girl standing in the shadow of a tree. Although he knew he would not find her, he still felt the sting of disappointment.

“We elves have a way of keeping abreast of things in the world. No, I have not seen her and the one that has is already gone. Ask me no further questions regarding her for I cannot answer you.”

“Can’t answer me, or wont?” Will sprang to his feet and began pacing, all of his anger and frustrations rising to the surface. “Who do you think you are, spying on us? You left, remember? When I wanted to be a part of your world, you were gone. And now you say I’m to one day be ruler of these people. I don’t owe them or you a thing!” He marched off through the woods with the intent of gathering his belongs to leave. His rage being further fueled by his father’s silence.

However, upon reaching the tree house his resolve wavered and he stood looking down at his simple bed wondering what to do next. Emarl looked with pity at the young man who was being torn in two. “We watch everybody, not just you and her.” Will spun around startled. “We have to watch what goes on in the outside because some things effect us. Nobody is asking you to become king, and nobody will blame you for not doing so. But why leave? You came here looking for answers and wanting to learn more about your elven heritage. Why abandon that quest so soon? Stay, learn, you may never have this opportunity again.”

Will looked down at his feet feeling embarrassed by his childish behavior. “What about Alex?”

Giving a sympathetic smile Emarl replied “Alexandra is where she needs to be right now.”

“You sound just like him.” They shared a chuckle at this comment thus diffusing the tension in the room.

Lutrol arrived home shortly after and only nodded his head in approval of his son’s decision to stay. He retired to his sleeping chamber without speaking a word to either of his children.

“Is he mad at me?”

Emarl heard the hurt in Will’s voice and knew without a doubt the he would be king one day. “No, just tired. Remember, we are elves; we do not waste time on such dark emotions. It is better to accept what is. How else could we live hundreds of years in peace and harmony?”

Will nodded his understanding but still felt sure he had angered Lutrol. Feeling too tired to debate this with his sister, he simply bid goodnight and disappeared behind the curtained door to his bedroom.

Alpha

Maxson and Shelby are out trying to enjoy some shopping. Recent missions had seen the two in the Middle East, Siberia and a secret military base on the dark side of the moon. Now they just wanted to relax and enjoy a little of what they bust their butts to protect.

“That one's hot", Mac said approvingly to Shelby as she modeled one of the season's new bathing suits.

“It might look good, but this floss is a pain in the ass.” she replied trying to adjust the bottom of the neon two piece suit.

“Fine, take it off."

“You wish.” she shot back ducking into the changing room.

“I like that one and the patriotic one. I'll be back in a sec. I want to check on somethin'.", Mac said as he stood up and left the communal waiting room that was ringed by different changing booths.

Mac was desperately in love with Shelby and always focused all his available attention on her. His Centre training taught him to access his subconscious in order to be aware of his surroundings. His subconscious is what prompted him to check out the main floor. Slowly parting the beads Slipstream entered the boutique proper. A mental switch and his mutant engine was slowly powering up.


Thousands of miles away Slipstreams' powering up is noticed by several human monitors aboard the Centre satellite.

“Colonel Bragmore, Slipstreams' powered up.", one of the monitors spoke into an intercom attached to his headset.

“Roger that, on my way", the Colonel replied as he placed a bookmark in his book and tossed it onto his bed.

As the presence of super powered beings in our world became more and more a reality the US "power's that be", settled on two things. The first was that in order to keep up it was necessary to catalogue all those beings within it's auspices that possessed metanatural abilities and select some to work for the good guys. The other was the need to establish an organization to control those catalogued. The Centre was that organization.


Looking around with both his eye's and his subconscious Slipstream couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Feeling around one more time he went back into the dressing room area, but not before he upped his stored energy a couple levels.

Slipstream knew that the subconscious didn't lie. Pressing a subdural throat mic Slipstream spoke to Timeslide. “Shelby, stay cool, somethin's goin' on."

"What is it?” she asked carefully adjusting her latest outfit.

"Not sure, but my head itches.” he replied referring to the trained subconscious all Alpha agents had.

"What do ya wanna do?"

"Nothin', it's probable just me. Now step out here and lemme see some ass."


"Sir, he's up to five.” the monitor informed the Colonel as he entered the "bubble", nerve center of the Agency satellite.

"Five! Dammit what's he doing?"

"He's with Timeslide, sir"

"Put Blink on hold."

"Blink sir?"

"Do it, soldier!"

"Done sir.” the corporal replied as he entered the code in an alpha-numeric keypad.


Unbeknownst to all but a few in the United States the "cold war" is still going full steam, within our own borders. The activation of agent Blink can only mean "they who must be obeyed" intend to use him. As such several individuals within our country are made aware of this intent. One of them is the current director of the Centre for which Alpha team is answerable to. Blink is a bio-engineered construct that can permanently shut down the mind of humans with met normal abilities. To Rion Brogan this meant that someone was about to get eyebrow deep in some serious shit.

"O'Donnell, gimme a roll call.” Brogan asked as he slid into the seat next to Janet van Deem, the communications officer on duty. “Wait a minute, where’s O'Donnell? Deem, I thought you were third shift?"

"It's van Deem. I transferred up.", she replied as the monitor board showed all agents accounted for except two.

"Where are Shelby and Maxson?"

"Seventy-two hour leave, sir.” she replied activating the tracer that all agents had implanted into their spines.

" Locate..."

" Got 'em sir."

"Send Cory to run cover."

"She's a Sigma sir."

"I know. She's due for a raise. Dispatch and feed her the info in route."

"Yes sir."


Shelby continued trying on various swimsuits as Maxson, with a critical eye, critiqued each and gave his opinion. The itch in his head ever present but no more insistent then his original impression.

Outside the dressing rooms business in the boutique was at its daily height. Casually Cory made her way around the shop, watching for the clerks, any apparent hostiles, Timeslide and Slipstream, and the ever present telepathic recorders. Not necessarily in that order. Cory thought it weird that the Centre seemed to always have their recorders in place for every mission. The recorder's job was to maintain a telepathic link between the agents and observers at the Centre. Thereby nullifying the need for any immediate communication between the two. Despite her efforts Cory didn't notice two newer arrivee's, both of whom will quickly change this boutique's "normal" business.

"Can we go?", asked Maxson seeing Shelby emerge from her overused changing booth.

"Yeah. I got a couple.", she replied indicating her preferences by throwing those chosen across the small waiting area into Maxson's face.

"Good, let's blow this popsicle stand."

Attempting to lead Shelby to the register Maxson didn't notice the slight waver behind the counter ahead of him, but the clean cut, athletic gentleman browsing near the front of the store did catch his attention.

"Here, you pay.", Maxson said handing Shelby his wallet.

The itching in his head had increase a bit when he noticed the gentleman in the "woman's" boutique, alone. As Shelby paid for her stuff Maxson continued to probe the immediate surroundings with his subconscious. It was then he felt a stirring behind the counter, too close for comfort.

Drawing on his power Maxson was about to adjust the "reality" of whatever was there when a rapid succession of things occurred. Just seconds before ,Cory had also noticed the athletic gentleman, out of place in the shop and approached him believing him to be someone she knew as well. Closing to the appropriate distance she reached out to touch him on the shoulder. When she did so it startled him slightly lessening his concentration. This in tern altered the region of Maxson's brain that Blink "turned off", causing Maxson to collapse rather then fall into a catatonic state. At that precise moment Maxson, using his hand to direct the release of the "order energy" that was his to command, attempted to resolve the itch in his head. Shelby vanished and Maxson hit the floor unconscious.

The instant Shelby disappeared the Centre's telepathic recorder, Algae, initiated the sterilization protocols that comprised the secondary parameters of its programming. Everyone in the boutique was mind wiped of the preceding two minutes and immediately desired only to go home and sleep. Algae also called in a Centre first line team, whose job it was to isolate and sterilize the area effectively hiding from the general public the fact that super beings did exist and operated among everyday people.


"What the hell happened?", Brogan asked occupying the terminal next to Van Deem.

"I'm not sure sir. Everyone is accounted for except one. That one is only on tape half the time."

"Half the time?"

"Here, see if you recognize the signature", Van Deem replied calling up the telepathic recording Algae made of the incident

As the tape advanced all the images were moving normally except one. The image from behind the counter seemed to skip frames, almost as if it were blinking in and out of the picture.

"That one's using some type of temporal cloaking device. Half the time they are now and the other half a couple seconds in the past or future. It makes the user invisible and able to instantaneously teleport elsewhere. The technology I recognize the user I don't.

Deep Water

Alex awoke to the crying of a baby somewhere in the distance. She wasn’t sure whether it was day or night but she knew that she couldn’t sleep any longer. Carefully she got to her feet, remembering to stoop down so as not to bump her head again. Running her fingers over her clothes she was able to take inventory of her belongings. She found that her holster was empty and that once again she was without boots. For all she knew her things could be lying in a corner of the room but she just couldn’t see them. With outstretched hands she made her way tentatively through the room with the hopes of finding her way outside.

She let out a scream of pain and surprise as her foot stepped on something hot, no doubt she had just wandered into a fire pit. She hopped backwards bumping her head on another beam. With one hand holding her burnt foot and the other cradling the lump already forming on the back of her head she was quite a spectacle to see. Just as two women rushed into the little hut, Alex tripped over a basket and fell with a thump onto the dirt floor causing another cry of pain to escape her.

“’Ere ya go dear, take me ‘and.” Alex felt a rough calloused hand encircle her own thin one and with a slight tug she was back on her feet. “Now let me ‘ave a look at ya. Ya shouldn’t ‘ave gotten out of bed withou’ proper ‘elp.” The rough hands were very gentle as they examined her foot and head. “Not burnt too bad, lucky for you, you didn’ fall in the fire. Ya’ve got a nasty lump on the ‘ead but you’ll live.”

“Look at the mess she made, ma” Alex could tell by the voice that it was a young girl who spoke maybe of 10 or 11. She still had the high pitched voice of a child but was old enough to be her mother’s helper.

“Shh! Mind yer manners, Evilin, the poor woman can’t see.” The girl went about straightening up the room grumbling under her breath.

Alex strained in frustration to see the people who were in the room. She reached up to rub her eyes but found that there was a cloth bandage over them. She was about to undue the wrap but her hands were gently stopped. “Ya best be leavin’ that be, miss. Let the salve do its job, ‘opefully ya’ll get some of your sight back.”

Alex dropped her hands pliantly into her lap. “Where am I? What happened?”

“She’s stupid and blind!” came the quick retort from Evilin. There was a loud smack and without even seeing it, Alex knew that the girl had been disciplined for her remark.

“Overlook the girl; she thinks she knows everything now that she’s to soon be married off to the king. She’ll be wife number four but at least she’ll ‘ave food.

As for where you are – you’re on Antipodes Island. From best we can tell, a storm came up and the ship was pushed onto the rocks a ways to the north of ‘ere. ‘Ow ya survived is a miracle but ya washed up on shore tied to a beam from the ship. ‘Aven’t seen any others from the vessel but that’s not to say that they’re all dead. Maybe just washed up on a different part of the island.”

“Capin’ there’s a storm a brewin’. Best start battin’ down the hatches.”

A shrill whistle resonated throughout the ship as the warning was passed to make ready for rough seas.

“Ya best get below decks, miss. Tie yourself to a beam incase we take a wave or two. Don’t want our only passenger getting washed overboard.”

“Capin’, it’s gonna be a spinner.”

On that word the boat came alive with crew members running to and fro, strapping down anything that moved. Those that were not needed on top moved with Alex below decks to tie themselves to anything that would float and not move.

“Here ya go, miss, I’ll give you a hand.” One of the galley workers who had been so kind to Alex on the voyage set about tying her to a beam. He had just finished when there was a loud crack as a wave hit the side of the ship causing it to rock viciously from side to side. The man would have gone flying through the air but Alex grabbed him. “Thank you, miss. Now that I’ve got you secured, I best see to myself.” That was the last time she ever saw any one from the boat again.

In a matter of seconds the ship was being tossed about by the vicious storm. There was an earsplitting crack as the vessel struck a large rock. Water filled the haul of the deck and panic welled up inside of Alex. She struggled with the knot that secured her to the beam; if she couldn’t get loose she would drown. Suddenly the upper deck broke away and her beam was loose. She was afloat in the icy water, rain pelting at her face. A wave flipped her over causing her head to strike a rock that was just below the surface. Darkness mercifully enveloped her so that she was unaware of the punishment her body endured from the great sea.

“I remember,” she whispered

“Wha’ was that, miss?” The woman paused a moment in her cleaning to look at the patient who had been forced upon her.

“I remember the ship wreck.” Looking in the direction from which the woman’s voice came she asked, “Other than my vision, is there anything else wrong with me?”

“Well, you ‘ave a nasty gash on your back, but from the looks of it, your back is used to pain. The rest are just scratches and bruises, nothin’ too serious. We’ve ‘ad a time of gettin’ your back to close, but I think it’ll do ya right now.”

“And my things? Did anything make it to shore?”

“You’re boots and the guns you were wearing are in safe keeping with the elders along with the key that was about your neck. Nothin’ else from your ship has washed up other than drift wood.” Alex was relieved to hear this bit of news although she would dearly miss her larger weapons; at least she had her pistols.

“Evilin, take the lady outside for some fresh air while I get us some food cookin’” The girl gave an audible “humph” but did as she was told. “Walk slow now; she can’t see where she’s gonin’”

Although the girl had a sharp tongue she had gentle hands and carefully guided Alex out of the hut. The air was damp and heavy with heat taking Alex’s breathe away. She could hear movement all around but nobody seemed to be in close proximity to them. Evilin carefully lead her to a log where they could sit down. “Where were you going, anyway?” The girl was much friendlier when her mother wasn’t about.

“Here actually.”

“Why would you want to come here?”

“I’m looking for an old friend.”

“Who is it? Maybe I can help you?” The girl was all too eager for an adventure of some kind.

Figuring it couldn’t hurt to ask, specially seen as how she couldn’t exactly look for the man herself, Alex answered, “Jake Small. At least that’s what name he used to go by when I knew him.”

“Why that’s the king!” Exclaimed the girl.

Alex hoped she masked her reaction to this bit of news. “This might be more difficult than I had thought.” She would bide her time here for now, at least she was on the right trail but she needed to gather more information and devise a plan. “If only I could see!”

Alpha

"Sir, I have the readings you requested on Matrix.” a young lady said as she entered a rather lavishly decorated office.

Slowly the sole chair in the room spun around revealing a young gentleman holding up his first finger in the universally accepted "hang on" gesture. The look on the young lady's face changed from enthusiasm to something else as she waited for him to finish his telephone call.

"Camille I enjoy your enthusiasm but your decorum could still use some work.” he said as he hung up the telephone with one hand and extended the other across his desk.

Quickly she handed him her PDA.

"These are very interesting. Well done.” he said more to himself dismissing her with a wave. As she opened the door to his office to leave he stopped her.

By the way, you’re Fired!!” he screamed as he caused her total incorporation with a slight mental twist.

"Jaime"' he directed at his intercom.

"Yes, sir?"

"I need a new assistant."


Several months ago Thermo had been assigned a hit and run mission. As the only survivor he returned beat up and under suspicion. This was the last "desk" assignment he had to finish before he was reassigned as active. Tonight he was to evaluate and recommend the aptitude of a Sigma agent, Mydnyte. Collecting a headset recorder and a handheld tracker, Thermo walked across the hall from where his desk was and entered the mission room.

"Where you off to? asked Janet van Deem, Thermo's current love interest and third shift communications officer for Alpha.

"I've got a baby sitting assignment.” he mumbled as he stepped into one of the transport tubes.

"Luv ya, good luck.” she replied hitting the pneumatic switch for Thermo's tube.

Suddenly Thermo shot through the tube to the upper part of the complex and out a concealed hatch below the ring of gargoyles that decorated the top most portion of the building.

Flipping the recorder's switch with a movement of his right ear Thermo began to record the evening's events.

"All rightee then. Nice calm evening. Weather report says it's relatively warm, hard for me to tell since my temperature stays constant, but it looks warm. Now let's see if I can find this bitch and get this shit over with.” with that Thermo kicked up the wind current propelling him through the air. Thermo was born with the ability to control the various phenomena we lump together as weather. He could alter to his advantage everything from winds and moisture to lighting, so far. His abilities had only manifested themselves five years ago so there was probably more he could do, but he was fast losing interest. The major aspect of his current training regime involved exploring creative uses for his talents, rather then honing what was already present. So far not much had been achieved.

"Files say she likes to hang out on the dockside of the waterfront, guess I'll try there first."

After several hours of patrolling Themo spotted his quarry perched atop a water tower. Just as he settled in to watch he spotted a white BMW slow down on the street below.

"I've found Mydnyte. She seems interested in a white BMW that's slowing down on the street, plate reads "Titus". Damn, that's the Renegade's top dog. Wonder what's up? Wait a minute, where'd she go? There she is. She's down on the street trying to help two girls that got pushed out of the car. Now we'll see what she's made of. There are eight Renegades; the two that were runnin' point just grabbed the two girls. Two other guys, one with a handgun and one carrying a sword just broke away from the pack and are approaching the girls. Mydnyte just melted into the shadows and is attacking the two guys holding the girls. Damn, she just...wait a minute...she just ripped out the dudes' spines. Okay, now she put herself between the girls and the rest of the Renegade pack. The girls just ran down the street. They'll be all right. The dude with the sword swung and broke it on Mydnyte's arm; she must have increased her density. Dude with the gun just shot his buddy tryin' to hit her. Damn, she impaled the sword guy with her arm. This bitch is bad to the bone fellas. Now she's lit into the rest of the pack. They're fallin' one by one, look's like it's about over. Wait a minute there's one dude left and he's big, must be Catafalque. Reports said to watch for him. Man, he just swatted her across the street and through the wall of that building. She's up, looks to be okay. He tried to get her again but she melted away and popped out on the firescape above him. She tried to impale him through the top of his head, guess she doesn't know he's an android. It didn't work so she melted into his shadow. She just severed his left leg with her hand. Now she's just standing there. Catafalque just jumped at her and missed. Wait he hit her with a laser, hit her in the hand. And he just activated his teleporter. Damn, she just looked right at me and mouthed she hoped she got a good grade, she knew I was here the whole time."

Thermo started his flight back to the Centre at a leisurely pace so he could have his report ready by the time he got back.

"I don't think she'd have any problems with a sanction mission, but the personality profile and several of the intangibles don't mark her as being ready yet. It won't be long though, it won't be long."

Darkness(Alex)

Never had she been so happy to see land before. After spending the last four months aboard an ever moving vessel, her legs seemed unwilling to walk properly on the rocky soil. Her traveling clothes hung loosely about her for she had lost a bit of weight due to the inability to keep any food down. If it weren’t for the galley cook’s fowl tasting concoction, she surely would have starved to death. As quickly as she could get her travel weary body to move she parted ways with the captain and crew of the merchant ship and headed in the direction of the only town on the island.

While following the well worn path that led to the centre of Antipodes Island, Alex took this time to observe her surroundings. There were large tropical trees surrounding the path with no hint of the foliage growing thinner. The girl was sure that if one strayed to far from the trail that they would get lost for sure. However, she was certain that the natives of this island could navigate within the dense forest quite well; as she had observed such confidence in the Indians who could navigate the vast wilderness of America. Several times she paused to allow strange animals the right of way across the path. Not being sure of which were poisonous, she thought it best to stay clear of all creatures. A heavy mist hung in the air with no sign of reprise blocking out the bright sun and leaving only a glow in the sky in place of its blinding light..

Without warning the trees vanished and in their place stood a town. Not just any town but a town that was all too familiar to Alex – it was her home from when she was a little girl. She stayed on the path, fearing to move onto the dusty road in front of her. “This has got to be some kind of dream and I’m still on that rickety boat.” She pinched her arm as her mother had taught her to do when having a bad dream but the vision before her eyes did not waver. Cautiously, she stepped out of the safety of the forest into the town’s street. Walking slowly as if there were led in her boots she made her way to the wooden slat sidewalk and as if on cue the town sprung to life.

Men on horse back rode up and down the street, tipping their hats at the ladies who bustled along the sidewalk to do their shopping and gossiping. There were carriages containing farm equipment and supplies. A few scraggly dogs barked and jumped around a group of children playing in a side alley. From one of the buildings a jovial tune was being played on a piano and without looking for it, Alex knew that a saloon was on the left side of the street smack dab in the middle of all the buildings. Further on down the walkway she found the little hotel with it’s name painted in big red letters across the front window “Alby’s.”

“Even the names are the same,” she whispered under her breath. She took a seat on a simple wooden bench that sat in front of the mercantile for she feared that her legs might give out from under her. As she watched the people going about their business she realized that the faces looked familiar. “There’s Mr. Frank… and Susie Bellars….” She followed the forms with her eyes, unsure of what was truly unfolding before her. When Mr. McCowin stepped out in front his shop to breathe a bit of fresh air, Alex reached out a tentative hand and touched his arm. Quickly she withdrew her trembling hand as if it had been burned for it was not thin air that greeted her touch but solid flesh and blood.

“Good day to ya, Miss Alexandra. And how are your folks doin’?” The red haired man gave her the same friendly smile that she had received a thousand times but instead of replying she could only stare with her mouth hanging open as if she were an idiot. “Are ya feelin’ alright there, lassy? Should I fetch Doc Backer?”

Alex shook her head “no” but the mercantile owner seemed none too convinced. “It’s this heat that’s got to ya. Let me get ya a cool glass of lemonade, the misses just made some not too long ago.” He disappeared within the store only to return with a glass filled with pale yellow water. “Here ya go, lassy, drink up.”

Her hands seemed to move of their own accord, taking the glass out of the puffy fingers. As if her soul had left her body, she could see the events taking place below her. She saw a young girl in pigtails drinking a glass of lemonade while the robust man looked on. Her breathing quickend as her brain fought the illusion before her. With a strength that seemed to come from someone else she forced herself to return to her body. Her spirit dove with such magnitude that it jolted the little girl causing her to drop her glass. Instead of the delicate thing splintering into a thousand pieces, it fell to its side with a thud and spun dizzily on the ground. The sound seemed to be as loud as thunder and shook the ground just as violently.

Alex startled jumbed from the bench, bumping her head on something but she couldn’t make out what for all around her was a deep blackness. She spun around, searching for the town in which she had just visited but the only thing she could see was darkness. She moved her hands carefully along the ground and was surprised to find that she was sitting on a straw mat of some kind. She willed herself to see but nothing would come to her. Panic seized her and she began to flail her arms about and scream as if she were a mad woman.

“There, there, child,” cooed a voice from within the darkness. “Lie back down. Your wounds aren’t yet fully mended.”

Alex looked in the direction from which the voice came and yet she could see nothing. “Why do you hide in the darkness? Show yourself.”

She could sense a presence standing next to her and felt gentle hands lying her back down upon the straw mat. “Do not fight the darkness child, it is here to stay. You must learn to embrace it – to move within it.”

Now she was more confused then ever. What did this gibberish mean? Where was she? But before she could ask her questions she felt the mist of the island still over her and she was once again in the strange town.

Alpha

Desperately Baikal tried to shake the cobwebs out of her head. She had fought the Mime before and knew the he was not a "bad guy" with a conscience. Mime didn't let up when you were down, he'd beat the shit out of you until you stayed down.

Their previous two encounters had resulted in draws both were able to walk away from. Unfortunately as a "good guy", Baikal was supposed to allow law enforcement to escort Mime, not allow him to leave unescorted. The media tallied both battles in the "L" column for Baikal.
As her double vision slowly centered into one image, Baikal realized that Mime was nowhere in sight. Following the sights and sounds of violence she quickly found Mime attempting to relieve the munitions depot of its prime holding.

When Mime turned to leave the weapons bay, Baikal was waiting for him.

"You know I can't just let you walk out of here. Damn what a cliché.", she said slowly shaking her head at both the folly of the "villain" and at the crap the had just come out of her mouth.

"Whatever. I've kicked your ass two, almost three times.", Mime replied slowly laying the compound canister down so both hands were free.

"Let's do it!!", Baikal yelled raising both of her hands. Suddenly ten tendrils of blue-green water encircled Mime, connected by streamers to Baikal's fingers.

Casually Mime shrugged some tendrils off and stepped out of the rest.

"Man, you know with my biofield in tact you'll never get hold of me. But given enough time I'll get to you and give you the pimp slap of a lifetime."

Mime was a mutant born with the ability to surround himself with a self generated force field. Nothing short of unconsciousness could deactivate it against his will. Knocking him out was a little tough to do when you couldn't even touch him, as Baikal had found out in their previous encounters.

Now Baikal's power on the other hand was the ability to control water molecules in their liquid form.

Baikal threw a barrage of offensive and defensive obstacles at Mime only to find him slowed down at best. Slowly but surely he was going to get within arms reach of her and make good his threat.

Silently one of the shadows, to the right of our combatants, detached itself from the wall and carefullt watched the growing conflict.

" Hey waterboy, ya need some help?", the shadow asked in an innocently female voice.

" I guess.", Baikal replied, at which point she again surrounded Mime in watery tendrils. Only this time she exerted pressure in and slightly downward in relation to Mime's biofield. Tossing him into the air, much like a watermelon seed squeezed between someone's fingers.

Matrix then increased the polar attraction between Mime's costume and the wall. This along with the force of Baikal's initial squeeze sent Mime flying headlong into the wall. As he slowly slid down the wall's surface and into unconsciousness Mime's biofield also contracted and went out.

" Damn what was that?", Baikal asked as Matrix fastened a damper around Mime's neck.

"I just rattled his cage a little."

Already an expert a martial arts, Tanis Colby had agreed to sign on as head of security for the United States Strategic Weapons Initiative. Part of that posting was the agreement to undergo bio-engineering. That process in conjunction with her pre-existing mutant powers gave her the ability to increase the ionic or polar attraction between molecules of inanimate materials.

" I think I coulda taken him.", Baikal quipped as she lifted Mime's unconscious frame with a water hand like a waitress lifts a tray.

" Probably.", Matrix replied retrieving the compound canister.

" Even with help I finally got a "W"."

"Yeah one outta three ain't bad."

" It'll keep me in the lineup."

As Baikal and Matrix left neither noticed a female figure appear off to the left. Silently she glanced at a hand scanner and made an entry into a PDA she had withdrawn from her pocket. Nodding slowly as she looked around the room she stepped into a tear in the ether and disappeared.

Prodigal Son (Serataom//Will)

The half-breed has returned home at last and will soon learn his fate. The stranger has sailed to a new land where she will face her past once and for all. One day the two shall cross paths again and their child shall be the one from the legends who will bring balance to the land

The one-eyed looks but is unable to see the answer that lies below the sea. The marked one is just discovering his power and soon will rise to the challenge at hand. The path finder is about to discover a new trail that will lead to great upheaval for those involved.

The warrior has challenged himself and has walked away the victor of that battle. However, the dog and cat still fight. Who shall win is shrouded in fog.

The angels walk on the earth looking for comfort and understanding. Free-will is sometimes an awful burden to bear.

“You speak nonsense, Serataom.” Salmurk paced back in forth wearing a path in the wild grass outside the village.

“It is all there in the stars, one need only to look” The wise horse-woman looked at her mate with pity. “Why do you dislike the sight so?”

“Too many people believe it and therefore make decisions based upon superstitions. The stars cannot save us from war and death. They cannot bring back the dead. You put too much stock into what they say and not enough in those who are here with you.” The large centaur pawed at the earth aggravated at having to explain his feelings.

The graying mare stepped lightly to her mate’s side and rested a weathered hand upon his muscular back. “No, the stars cannot bring back your son, or anybody else for that fact, but they can give us hope.” Brushing away a tear that threatened to spill over her lashes she left for the house leaving the stubborn mule with his thoughts.

Glottack met her as she approached her stoop, “Did you see it?”

“Yes, it was just as you said; she is the one.” Looking warily past the young stallions face she saw the shadow of death at her door. “You did right to aid her in her escape. The elves are also aware of who she is for they too have kept a vigilant. It will soon be your day to advise Tavalox for my time is running out. Maybe the Council will listen to you better than I. I have never had much power over them; Salmurk is partly to blame for that.” Seeing the concerned look on his strong angular face, Serataom smiled and patted the centaur’s cheek, “Do not fret so, I have lived a very long life. I have nothing more to offer this world. I welcome the chance to hold fellowship with those long passed.”

Serataom disappeared into the sanctuary of her hut. Respecting her privacy, Glottack sought refuge in the forest that he loved so much. He had been following some humans who had crossed into the forbidden trees. For reasons unknown to him, he did not alert Tavalox. Something about these men told him that they were best left alone to find their answers.


***********************************************************************************


Will sat at the high table during the celebration of his return. He felt as though he were the fabled prodigal son whom he had learned about in his mother’s church. He observed with great interest the casual way of these ethereal people. The younger elves were joined in a circular dance in the middle of the table settings while the older generation clapped in time to the whimsical music, all the while exchanging gossip of this young one or that. In the midst of all of this joy, he felt as though he were only half a person; the ever persistent ache in his heart told him that he would not be staying long in Nordel.

“Good tidings, Brother,” Emarl had slipped into a recently vacant spot on the bench next to him. The former occupant, one of his many cousins, had relinquished his seat so that he might partake in the merriment of a dance.

Will smiled shyly at the beautiful elven maiden. Her hair was the same color as his but that was as far as the similarities went. She had honey colored skin, green almond shaped eyes, small delicate features and slightly pointed ears.

“Do you wish to join in the dance?” she gave him a warm smile that showed off her high cheek bones.

“I don’t think I know the steps. Besides, I much rather watch for right now. It’s all so new to me still.”

The girl nodded in understanding. Picking at some grapes that were laying on the table she suddenly began to tell Will the story of her mother and his father.

“We elves do not marry as the humans do. The relationship between a male and a female is one of respect and necessity. Sometimes a couple may live together for a while, other times they go their separate ways after sharing an intimate bond; no thought is given to either, it is simply the way it is. During the Beltane fires Lutrol sought out my mother, Amarly, and I was the result of their union; it was the only time they ever shared such a bond. Unfortunately, she died during child birth and my aunt raised me as her own, a twin to her son. When I was old enough I left her house and came to live with Lutrol where he has treated me as kindly as any father.”

Taking up a goblet she sipped some wine and watched a game of hoop hopping being played by the younglings. After a moments reflection she added something that stirred Will’s soul, “Lutrol loved your mother, he still does, and he loves you. Do not think ill of him for the decisions that he has made for he had to leave. I do not know if you are aware that your father is the King of Ossiriand whose ancestry goes back to the First Age. If he had chosen not to come to Nordel our people would have scattered like leaves in the wind, eventually vanishing for all time.”

Will stared intently at the girl hoping that if he looked hard enough that something she was saying might sink into his befuddled brain. “Are you saying that you’re a princess?” He knew the question was stupid but her answer was necessary in order for him to comprehend the situation.

Suppressing a giggle, Emarl smiled and spoke to the young man as if speaking to a little child, “Yes, I am a princess and you, dear brother, are the prince of Ossiriand. This will all be yours one day if you so choose.”

His mouth suddenly felt very dry as if he had eaten dirt and the forest around him seemed to be spinning. The sounds of laughter and talking that had once been so pleasant now melded together to become nothing more than exaggerated noise. Rising clumsily out of his seat he stumbled from the table as if he were a drunk, muttering something about too much to think about. Emarl stood to go with him but Lutrol motioned for her to be seated. She couldn’t help but wonder if telling him the truth was such a good idea but Lutrol had asked her to do so. Her heart went out to the poor boy that was so lost to himself.

Dock dick. (Quint)

As I cut a course toward the fishing pier I was in no great hurry for I wasn’t sure how Captain Edwardo would take to my tale of being in the past, I wasn’t real sure it actually happened myself. Maybe I had been in such bad shape that I’d been delirious, dreaming, or hallucinating. I’d seen some mighty strange and unbelievable things in my life and at the time unusual events were occurring I had learned it was better to accept what my eyes beheld and question it later, usually I didn’t bother to ask any questions, but this last little adventure was a whole new ball game. I don’t know if the skipper could, or would, enlighten me, but he was a crusty old salt and an encyclopedia of information when he wanted to be. Of course he might just laugh and then rap me on the noggin with a belaying pen to see if my skull were actually hollow.

Though my mind was occupied I was very much aware of everything around me and I would have had to been blind not to see the man in the dark sunglasses sporting a large splattering of gull crap on the right shoulder of his otherwise spotless black suit. I almost smiled at the agent’s ridiculous attempt to appear inconspicuous in a dark suit and Buddy Holly sunglasses while standing at the shore end of a working fishing pier, not a sight one sees every day in this neighborhood. Stopping about ten feet from the agent I spoke rather loudly in order to draw as much attention as possible.

“Hay! Are you one of those super-secret government spy men? You sure look like one to me with them dark sunglasses on and that black suit and shiny black shoes, can even see a bulge under your jacket where you probably have a real fancy gun of some kind. Who you spying on down here at the docks? Most of these sea dogs are kind of suspicious if you ask me.”

Turning his head one way then another to see who all had heard my outburst, there were several faces turned our way, the agent quickly closed the gap between us and stood trembling and red-faced in front of me.

“Damn it, you’ll pay for this I promise you!” growled the indignant man as he quickly looked around once more.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep dip-shit, and never threaten me. Now just tell me where Charlie wants to meet and then haul your slimy ass out of here” I said feeling a greater then normal dislike for this arrogant super-spy want-to-be.

This young fool was a rookie or else Charlie hadn’t properly briefed him for the idiot grabbed hold of my left wrist. What his intent was made little difference to me, my reaction was instantaneous, in the blink of an eye my right hand held the needle pointed tip of a stiletto to the base of the moron’s Adam’s apple. His grip on my left wrist opened ever so slowly and he swallowed noisily causing his Adam’s apple to bob which caused the knife tip to penetrate his skin ever so slightly and a small trickle of blood ran down his throat toward his sparkling white shirt collar. With my now free left hand I reached up and snatched the dark sunglasses from the agent’s face and dropped the shades behind me, a set of blue eyes opened wide in shock and dismay stared straight ahead not even daring to blink.

“Turn your head to the left” I hissed softly as I stared into the bulging eyes. “You see that fish hanging from the hook there split from head to tail? Next time you touch me that’ll be you. There’ll be no more warnings.”

Removing the threat from the shocked agent’s neck I stepped back and dropped the stiletto into my coat pocket and as I stepped back I was rewarded by the sound of the sunglasses crunching under my heel. The man in front of me heard it also, but he said nothing, it seemed he had learned something already. I glanced around and the faces that were turned our way and they all quickly found something else of interest to look at.

“Now let’s try this again. Where and when does Charlie want me to meet him?”

“He, uh…ah-hmmm, he doesn’t want to meet with you. He told me to just hand this to you.”

Presenting his right hand the agent opened his fist to reveal a small block of wood about one inch square and about a half inch thick, it appeared to be red oak and there didn’t seem to be anything unusual about it. I took the offered item and dropped it into the same coat pocket where I had stowed the knife.

“Go away, now” I stated flatly.

Without any further comment the man in black walked quickly toward the main road and I had to smile as I watched him go, he was holding his jacket lapel and speaking rapidly to it, very inconspicuously though.

I strolled out onto the pier and headed for the Sardine, the sound of water slapping the pilings, gull cries and creaking lines were comforting, or would have been if it weren’t for that very small piece of wood in my coat pocket. I didn’t mind doing a hit on an ultra-sensitive target, but the preparation was always drawn out and tedious. Oh well, goes with the territory I suppose.

The Road to Here(Will)

Lutrol's chair



Father and son stood on the wooden ledge looking out over the expanse of the forest. “What brings you to Nordel, William?”

“I thought you would already know that.” answered Will sarcastically.

Lutrol smiled at his son’s obvious annoyance at having been spied on all these years. “I knew of your coming but not of your motive.”

“A friend of mine told me that I should make peace with my past before pursuing my future.”

“A wise friend,” the two stood in silence listening to the gentle rustle of the leaves and the song of the crickets. “Do you love her?”

Will looked at his father, startled by the question. “Love who?”

“The girl you’re following, of course.”

“How?As if in answer to his question the orange tabby cat appeared on the railing rubbing his furry body up against Will’s arm. “Can he talk?”

Lutrol gently stroked the cat’s back “of course he can, every creature can talk, you just have to know how to listen.”

Suddenly Will became agitated by the idle chit-chat, anxious to receive answers to his many questions “Why did you leave us? You broke mother’s heart. She was never the same after you left.”

Patiently, as if speaking to a small child, his father explained the circumstances surrounding his departure.

“The humans arrived in small numbers at first settling in one area and living peacefully with the native creatures but before long their numbers began to grow and they began to spread out, claiming more land along the way. The native creatures – centaurs, elves, unicorns, troll, and others – tried to live in peace with the humans but they are a greedy sort, always wanting more, until inevitably we went to war. There are no victors in war.”

His father motioned for the two of them to return inside the hut. Emarl had finished cleaning up from dinner and had retired to her bedroom for the night. Taking a seat in a chair made of twisted vines in front of the fire place, Lutrol continued.

“After years of fighting and with no end in site, the leaders of each race agreed to meet and devise a way to live together. The elves were permitted to come and go as they pleased among the humans, by allowing this we became mediators between the two cultures. Most of the native creatures left to find planes yet inhabited by humans and then of course there was the Forest of Hereanafter and the Mountain of Pastanpresent.”

“So the stories about the forest are true?”

Lutrol looked at his son with pity in his eyes, “You know so little of your own history. Yes, the stories are true as the girl you seek can tell you.” Will opened his mouth to question his father’s knowledge of Alex’s plight through the forest but decided against it.

“The creatures lived many years like this and during this time several mixed marriages came to pass, mine included, the elders knew that cross breeding like this was against nature and therefore began to devise a plan to leave, separating human and elf once in for all.

As with any change, it takes time and planning to make it happen, but with each passing year more and more half-breeds were being born. When the Status War began, the elders decided that it was time to go. If the humans could not live in peace amongst themselves, how could we expect them to live in peace with others? We were allowed to bring the half-breeds with us but the humans had to stay with their kind. Your mother and I discussed it for several days and in the end she wished for you to stay with her.” Picking up a stick leaning against the wall, Lutrol poked at the embers in the fire place.

“And just like that you left us?” asked Will indignantly.

“It was not easy but it was necessary in order to preserve the race. Elves were not meant to live among the humans. We live for thousands of years hardly aging at all, immune to disease and illness, where as the humans live for only a few years and their bodies are weak. By staying with them, we would inevitably bring an end to our kind.”

“What about the others like me?” He was curious about the other half-breeds having never known that there were others like him.

“There were no more than thirty off spring born to the human-elf relations, of these eight died in infancy due to malformations, three were aloud to come with us and the rest live among the humans as you do.” As if reading his son’s thoughts Lutrol added, “There is no need to concern yourself with them, for like you, they know nothing of their history. You are the first half-breed to seek us out.”

Will felt as if his head would explode if he received any further information this night, his mind was reeling with the task of trying to decipher all of this news. Seeing his son’s fatigue getting the better of him, Lutrol showed the young boy to a room at the back of the hut that would be his while he stayed in Nordel. Will quickly fell asleep on his moss bed dreaming not of his past but of his future.