The Sassquatch's Lair

When Richard arrived at his cubicle, men were busily packing his workstation on a cart. He interrupted their work, wanting to know what they were doing. He learned with disbelief that they were moving him into his new executive suite. Most of his stuff was already there. With a sinking feeling, he slowly walked to the executive wing.

When he walked passed Frederick McNamara’s door he noticed that Kathleen’s name had been painted on it, replacing her father’s. He was surprised to see that a crew of men, in green coveralls, were busily moving him in the suite of offices next door. One of them was painstakingly painting his name and title on the door. The sight of this made him shiver. He never had liked the feeling of been summoned in the office behind one of these impressive oak doors. Now he had one of his own.

He wandered down the corridors of the executive suite while the crew was finishing their work. As he walked passed Kenneth Price’s office he overheard an enthusiastic conversation in which Kathleen’s voice sounded pleased. He strained to hear more, but was unable to do so without looking suspicious amongst the people walking the corridors.

When he returned, the crew was finally finishing-up. A burly young lad holding a clipboard, walked toward Richard with a large smile on his face. He handed the clipboard to Richard, and said: “Would you please sign this chit, Sir. Your new office is ready for you. I hope that you will enjoy it.”

Richard signed the paper, and thanked the man absentmindedly. He walked into the office and slowly examined its luxurious furnishings. He had always enjoyed the womb-like quality of his cubicle. Now his workstation and reference manuals were neatly arrayed on a large, darkly stained, oak escritoire. The scope of the room was huge. He felt completely lost in it. He sat, at his desk, in a large leatherbound swivel-chair, and looked at his collection of curios on its top. They had made his cubicle homey, but now looked completely ridiculous on the vast expanse of polished wood.

Richard pivoted in his chair and rolled it toward his workstation. He flipped the power switch and watched the screen with glazed eyes, while the operating system booted-up. The familiar patterns scrolling on the display soothed him. He was so lost in his thoughts that almost did not hear a faint knock at his door. He weakly replied to come in.

The door cracked open and Kathleen’s face poked into the opening. She looked excited as she said: “I hope that I’m not disturbing you. Can you spare a few minute for me?”

Richard smiled. He answered: “You should know by now that I always have some time for you. What’s all the excitement about?” Inwardly Richard knew the answer already. He also knew that he could not change her mind, if he was a good judge of the expression on her face.

Kathleen hurried in and closed the door behind her. She came to him and, as he got up to greet her, she hugged him tightly. She quickly straightened up and sat down in front of his desk.

With excitation barely controlled in her voice she started: “They have managed to do it… They contacted dad on the other side!!!”

She got up and started to pace frantically in front of Richard’s desk. She continued. “They will try again late tomorrow and I should be there to talk to him. Will you come with me?”

Richard cleared his throat, and seeing that he would not be able to convince her otherwise, he said: “You know that I will stand at your side. I would like to see that with my own eyes.”

He barely was able to control the sarcasm in his voice. He thought that it would be best to see this demonstration and try to expose it as fraud. His mind was racing at the prospect of exposing Price’s for all that he was. Richard had never liked the man, and the feeling was probably mutual. He exchanged some pleasantry with Kathleen, and buoyed by her mounting enthusiasm, she finally left his office to complete some errands of her own.

Great angst was mounting in Richard’s mind. He sat glumly watching the screen of his workstation. Hours passed and Richard had still not moved. He was afraid for Kathleen, but his nature was preventing him to make a stand against the figure of authority that was Kenneth Price. Finally, with a long, slow sigh he stood up and left his office. Maybe he would think with a clearer mind in the morning.

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From 7/2006: The Day I Fooled Death

The Sass

Richard only had time for a dash to his apartment for a few hours sleep and quick shower before returning to the office. When he arrived at the check-in desk Ralph, the morning watchman, was already on duty. The young man, looking sharp in his crisp uniform, told him in his deep voice:

“Miss. Kathleen left a message for you. Let me get it for you.” Ralph rummaged around the top of his desk and handed a small white envelope to Richard. He said: “Here, this is it. I hope that you will have a nice day.”

Richard opened the envelope and read the neatly handwritten note on his way to his office. It said:

“Dear Richard:

I will not be able to meet with you this morning. I have an meeting with Kenneth Price to discuss his “Thanatos” project. I will let you know about it as soon as I learn more.
Fondly… Kate

PS. I think he might have found a way to communicate with the dead as an offshoot of his research. I would be so great if I could communicate with dad and ask him to help us with the company.”

He was astounded by the news. As soon as he reached his office, he tried to contact Kathleen at Price’s office. He learned that she was out of the main office complex and had gone to the advanced research building. Thinking that it was not to his best interest to pursue her there, he decided nonetheless to contact Ben Krysler, a friend of his in the “parapsy” department. Ben agreed to see him right away.

When Richard reached Ben’s office, he was greeted by the jovial young man. His boyish looking face was lit by a wide grin, than was framed by long stringy hair. He looked at least 15 years younger than he was. He shook Richard’s hand vigorously, while he said in a sniggering voice:

“Should I now call you Mister Vice President or just your Highness….” He broke out laughing, while Richard blushed to a deep crimson.

Richard felt embarrassed and finally said:

“How did you know about this, I has not been officially announced yet.”

“Well…, by the same way we usually both get news around here. By hacking in the executive computer system. Don’t tell me that in your exalted position you would now frown on this.”

This brought a smile to Richard’s scowling face. Upon seeing this, Ben continued:

“This is better. You looked like you were sucking on a particularly sour lemon. Why the long face?”

“I have not started yet, but management already doesn’t agree with me. I need your help on an exceedingly sticky situation. Its about Kathleen…” Ben quickly interrupted. “I know, there are rumours racing around the office these days.”

Richard blushed again to an even deeper shade. He managed to continue. “It’s not what you are thinking.”

“How do you know what I am thinking?”

“Stop it. Be quiet. It is very serious.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking. I thought that you didn’t believe in ESP.”

“Stop fooling around. I really need you help. I am afraid that Kathleen might be getting involved in Price’s “Thanatos” project. I am afraid for her.”

As he heard that, Ben sobered up instantaneously. He said in a sombre voice, that was unusual for him: “If she is get¬ting involved in that load of crap, she might very well be in danger.” Richard did not like the sound of that. His suspicions were confirmed when Ben continued.

“This idea of his, to extract energy from interstitial space, is ludicrous. All that they will ever manage to do is to make an impressive light show. Our research has suggested that the interstitial space might be inviolable. Measurements were made of an inflow of energy from our reality to that theoretical space, but it is always balanced by a simultaneous outflow. In my opinion, if you try to extract a large amount of energy from that space you’ll end up with a rebound effect that will suck energy from our space. Ending up with massive damage to your equipment, and a bruised ego (if not worse). As you well know you cannot gain something from nothing.”

“What you are telling me is that it’s impossible to get energy for free, which I do believe. But what about Price’s claims of contacting dead people on the other side. What do you think about them?”

“Since when has he claimed that? As you well know, if someone is profoundly sceptic about the paranormal, it’s Price. I once mentioned my opinion on the subject of interstitial space as a repository of souls, to him. He laughed me right out of his office.”

Richard handed Kathleen’s note to Ben, and said: “Then why as he now changed his opinion?”

Ben read the short note. His face became livid. In a trembling voice he answered: “I don’t believe any of this crap. He sure doesn’t believe in it himself. I don’t see how he could have done any progress in a field he doesn’t know anything about, without anyone in the parapsy department hearing anything about it. It looks like a way to get something out of your poor Kathleen.”

“I am sure of it. Don’t you know anyone at the advanced research complex that could help us. What about Amanda? Are you still seeing her?”

“I have not seen her lately but I wouldn’t mind renewing our relationship. I will try contacting her this morning. I’ll let you know as soon as I have some news.”

They bid each other goodbye, and Richard returned to his office.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

From 7/2006: The Day I Fooled Death

The Sass

Richard walked without any apparent aim for a while. So much had happened, in the last few hours, that he could not absorb it all. He finally ended up in his cubicle. It was one of the few places where he felt safe. The narrow walls and the friendly glare of his computer monitor greeted him. This was where he spent most of his waking hours. It was more his home than his little apartment in a housing complex nearby. He only used his apartment for his daily ablutions and sometimes to sleep. He did not turn on the lights, as he seated himself in front of the monitor. Richard loosened his tie and leaned back in his chair. He keyed in a few commands on the keyboard resting near his right hand. With a glazed look, he watched the screen. As the disassembler begun its works, rows of figures started scrolling on the monitor. His mind was not on the problem at hand, but he liked the pattern of the data on the screen. He hoped that he could keep working in his cubicle. He did not relish the idea of moving to an executive office, where he would not have time to do some programming or troubleshooting.

As his mind drifted toward some much needed rest, his attention was drawn to the sound of a hushed conversation going on in a nearby cubicle. He could recognize one of the voices. It was Kenneth Price’s. A heated hushed argument was going on with an unknown person. Richard could hear some parcels of the exchange.

“… find… way… rid of her…”

“…I know, but… a way… parapsy… Thanatos…”

“…proceed… no one… find… involved…”

“…never… ready… next week…”

Richard did not move from his cubicle until the office was again quiet. He looked around the room but found no one. Not knowing what to do with what he had eared, he decided to leave for the day. He stopped at the guard desk to sign out. He notice from the list that Kathleen was still present. Phil, the night watchman, told him. “Mr. Richard, I see that you are leaving us early, but before you go, Miss Kathleen asked me to tell you to meet her in Mr. Frederick’s office.” He winked at him, and continued, “I hope you have a nice evening.” then winked again.

Richard acquiesced with a nod of his head. He proceeded wearily toward the designated office. He felt uncomfortable in going to his boss’s former office. It rarely was used by its former owner, who preferred to direct by mingling with his troupes. Richard had only been there, formally, on one occasion: the day of his job interview. He stood in front of the darkly stained oak door, still trying to decide if he would go in. He finally knocked. Kathleen’s muted voice instructed him to come in. With a slightly trembling hand he opened the door.

Kathleen was seated at her dad’s large oak desk. She was going through some papers. She looked up at Richard with bleary eyes. She sighed deeply and said with a tired voice: “I’m glad that you came. I will need your help to direct the business. I wish that dad had prepared me better to take over from him.”

“You should look at somebody else for help. I don’t know, myself, how I will be able to cope with my new responsibilities.”

“Don’t worry, dad always had the greatest admiration for your potential. He really looked to you as his son. At times, I was even jealous of you.”

Richard blushed sheepishly. He replied: “You know that I greatly admired your dad, but you should not have feared for his affection. He was always talk about you with such pride.”

It was Kathleen’s turn to blush. She raised from her chair and came to Richard’s side. She said: “Lets stop this mutual admiration society before it gets out of hands. I have some projects that I need your opinion on. But first I really do need your help, I hope that you will always be there for me.” With this, Richard found himself at he receiving end of her embrace for the second time that day. He did not know what to say. He contented himself by just patting her on the shoulder until she let go of him.

“I’m sorry” She said. “I only needed a shoulder to cry on for a while. All of this is so new to me. I hope I have not offended you.”

Hurrying to answer, Richard said: “You can be assured that I don’t mind. Please feel free to hug me anytime you wish.” This seemed to break the ice. She gave him a drawn smile and pulled him to the desk. She pointed to some papers that were laying on its top and said:

“These are some of the projects that Dad had some doubts about. As you can see most of those are low priority purely experimental stuff that can be only useful in their theoretical content. Also thrown-in, are a few dead-ends that have not progressed in years. I think that these should be shelved.” Richard nodded in acquiescence while she continued. “But there is a major project that dad had some doubts about, and it scares me. It is Kenneth Price’s “Thanatos” project with the boys in the nuclear physics department. He is trying to extract energy from interstitial space, where the lads in the parapsychology department think that our “soul” goes after our death.”

As he eared this, Richard’s mind froze. His worst fears were becoming realities.

As the blood drained from Richard’s face, Kathleen stopped talking. She looked at him, wondering what was wrong with the man. She worried that he might collapse in front of her, like her father had done at the board meeting. She rushed to him and embraced him in her arms, fearing for his health.

The warmth of this contact brought Richard out of his trance. He responded by circling her slim body with his own arms. They stood in their embrace for a timeless moment. Slowly they relaxed, and she started crying softly on his shoulder.

Richard did not have the guts to let her know of what he had eared earlier. As their embrace lingered, he hugged her tightly. This seemed to calm her. She finally sighed deeply, and murmured in his ear:

“Dear…, Dear…, Richard. I wish that dad was still with us. I don’t know how we will cope with all of this.”

The emphasized “we” in her plea, made his heart grow warmer. In all of this crazy situation at least something was going his way. They talked late into the night and agreed to meet early in the morning, in her office, to further discuss the situation.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

From 7/2006: The Day I Fooled Death

The Sass

Richard Dexter was uncomfortable in his, rarely worn, business suit. He normally wore jeans and t-shirts to work. He was nervously glancing at himself in the rear view mirror of his beat-up car, as he was driving into town. It had all started last week when Frederick S. McNamara, the chairman of the large R&D conglomerate for which Richard worked, passed away in the middle of a board meeting. He had suffered a massive coronary, while arguing the faith of a new research project with his old friend, Kenneth Price.

Richard remembered the old man fondly, especially his gentle patriarchal management style. In an field that was as cutthroat as Research & Development, it was a joy to work for F.S. McNamara Enterprises.  When Richard had found himself unable to cope with the hectic pace and the politics of a competing firm, the old man had taken him under his wing. He had nurtured the shy young man’s talents until they bloomed and gave him confidence. Richard was now a senior systems analyst in charge of his own department. The easygoing attitude of the company style suited him perfectly. When he had heard of his mentor’s demise, Richard had been overcome by grief. It was as if his world had collapsed. The normalcy of his office life had been maintained by the presence of Mr. McNamara. Now that he was gone, Richard was afraid that the influence of Kenneth Price would be felt. The man was a brilliant scientist, but his style of management was very antagonistic. His aggressive behaviour had always been curtailed by his admiration of Frederick McNamara’s work. Richard had not only lost a close friend. His office life would also be changed by this lost. And since he only lived for his work, it was devastating to him.

Soon after McNamara’s death, rumours of massive cut-backs were heard around the office. Some projects, including Richard’s own, were supposedly slated for the trash bin. Richard never put to much faith on such rumours, but he had frequently been at the receiving end of Price’s wrath. He now feared for his job. His anxiety was heightened because he had been convoked to the reading of Frederick McNamara’s will. This explained his unusual attire and his trip to the city. The old man had been his mentor, but it did not explain his convocation. He definitively did not belong there. Kenneth Price would surely be left in charge of the company, and he did not want to be there to see the reins passed to their new owner.

As he approached the tall mirrored tower, housing the law firm in charge of Frederick McNamara’s estate, Richard’s stomach started to knot. The loud rumbling and ache added to his discomfort. Has he looked up at the towering buildings he felt crushed by their weight. He drove into the underground parking. The attendant passed a few unkind remarks about his car, while handing him his ticket. Richard did not take notice of them, as he was too self absorbed.

On the way up the elevator Richard tried, without too much success, to regain his composure. As he exited the lift he came face to face with Kathleen McNamara, Frederick’s grieving daughter. She was a stunning looking young woman with a full head of auburn hair and delicately chiselled features. She looked a little peaked in her neat black business dress-suit. She gave him a tight, drawn smile. Richard had always been infatuated with her, but he never had been able to ask her out. His shyness and the fact that she was his boss’s daughter had prevented him to do so. This was a constant subject of gossip around the office that she had occasionally joined in good humour. As he approached her, she reached for him, gave him a tight hug and rested her cheek on his shoulder. This was one his dreams come true, but he was too dumbfounded too react. He just stood there feeling like an idiot. They were both brought out of their reverie by an abrupt, authoritative cough. Kenneth Price was standing in the open doorway of an office, looking at them with contempt. Kathleen moved away sharply from him, looking flustered and giving him a shy, confused smile. They both walked toward the lawyer’s office under the reproachful glare of Mr. Price’s eyes. Without any reasons Richard mumbled some kind of apology under his breath, when he passed the man.

The conference room in which they were ushered had a feeling of traditional solid values to it. It was panelled in dark wood and a long, massive table stood in its centre. The walls were adorned with paintings of elder, long deceased partners, who looked down with scorn and contempt at the assembly. At the head of the table stood Vernon McDuff, the genial senior partner of the firm. Richard had met him only once, when his employment contract, and what was expected of him had been explained. He had taken an instant liking to the man. Today, in different circumstances, he felt somewhat overwhelmed by the man. He felt completely out of place in this meeting of senior corporate executives, in their neat business suit. They all looked at him wondering about the same thing. Richard wished that he could at least look the part, but his rumpled ill-fitting suit prevented him to do so.

Sensing his embarrassment Mr. McDuff greeted him warmly: “Dear Richard, come this way. I know that you are wondering why you are here. It will soon be explained to you. For now, just be assured that it was under our dear departed friend’s direction. You know that he looked at you as he would have a son.”

He pointed toward and empty chair beside Kathleen’s, and said, “Please sit down beside the lovely Kathleen, and we will start as soon as everybody is seated.” He turned toward the assembly, and said in a louder voice, “Would you please be seated, so that we can get this meeting under way.”

As soon as everybody were seated, McDuff continued. “I will first play you a short videotape recorded by Frederick shortly before his untimely death. The I will read you the details of the will, in respect to the Company.” He turned toward a VCR sitting on top of a TV monitor that stood on a narrow table set against the wall. He pressed a key on a remote control sitting by his yellow notepad.

The patriarchal face of Frederick McNamara appeared on the screen. As usual he was without a necktie and his shirt sleeves were rolled up. He was looking straight into the camera. A quick smile crossed his wrinkled features. He said in a throaty voice that was uncharacteristic of him. “I am sorry about the emotion in my voice, but it his not everyday that you can speak after your death. I hope that I will not make a habit out of it. You all know that I am, sorry, was proud to have owned and directed one of the few large R & D companies that is independent and family owned. I only had to answer to myself in company policy. Due to this fact, my last wishes are that the Company continue in this mould. To accomplish this, the new President and CEO will be my daughter Kathleen.”

A look of astonishment came to Kathleen’s face, while a low growl escaped from Kenneth Price’s tightly pressed lips. His face was quickly turning brick red. The recording continued undisturbed.

“Before my good friend Kenneth storms out of the room in anger, let me explain.” This seemed to somewhat calm Price’s anger. “I want you to continue in your position of trusted advisor and vice-president of the company. A portion of the Company’s shares will be transferred to you as will later be explained in details by Vernon. Ken, I know that you wished to be in charge, but I think that the company should still remain in the family. If later Kathleen wishes to pass the controls to you she can do so, but she will have to wait for a period of 5 years from the day of my death to do it. In the meantime she will have to assume the day to day running of the company. Kathleen, I know that you will do me proud.” A long sigh escaped from Kathleen’s lips as she looked fondly at the image of her father. Meanwhile the recording continue.

“Dear Richard, I know that you are wondering about what you are doing in here with all these stuffed shirts.” A nervous giggle escaped from the assembly. “I have looked at your progress in the company and I feel that it is time that you should take more responsibilities. I know that you will not like it at first, but you will thank me for it in the future. You are now promoted to vice-president for data processing. I know that I will be as proud of you as of my own daughter…”

With these last words, Richard’s mind seemed to blank to the outside world. He barely remembered the remainder of the tape and the formal reading of the last will and testament that followed. His mind was overwhelmed by the fear of the responsibilities that would be trust upon him in the days to come. He left the conference room in a daze and much later, near the end of the day, he ended up back at the office without knowing why he was there.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

From 7/2006: The Day I Fooled Death

The Sass

Chapter 6

After they reached firmer grounds on the other side of the marshy area surrounding the keep, Ludger let the vehicle roll to a stop. He turned toward Dregnar and said.

“Now, where to?”

The troll pointed tentatively to the south and said in a quivering voice.

“That way. To the edge of the forest, then west.”

After half an hour of bouncing on a rough trail, they reached a forest of tall hardwood trees. They were denuded of their leaves for the winter. To the southwest stood a large city dominated by a tall castle sitting on an island at the edge of the sea.

Dregnar pointed to the city. He said.

“This is Talenthar, where we are going to meet the Prince, tomorrow. You should follow that path skirting the forest.”

Ludger drove the truck across the mouth of the ravine. During the crossing the troll fidgeted as if he expected something horrible to happen at any moment. When they reached the other side, Ludger found a wider path leading northwest into the Desert of Death.

After a few hours of uneventful travel, Ludger turned toward the troll. He tried to make conversation.

“What do you think about this entire situation?”

Startled by the sudden question, Dregnar answered.

“Master Ludger, as a faithful servant of the royal family, it is not my prerogative to criticize our endeavour.”

“Humour me, I’m not of this world. I want your own opinion.”

“Well…, if I must.” Dregnar paused, cleared his throat, then continued. “I am afraid for the well being of our world. You were brought here as a last resort. You are not a magician, or a great warlord. Even though you have decided to help us, I do not see how we can win in the coming war. Our forces are weak. Even if we win against Magdar, there is a possibility of an attack from the Empire, in the south. In our weakened state we could not possibly defend against it.”

“You honestly think we are doomed?”

“No, there is always hope, but these days it is difficult to believe in chance, with what I know of Magdar.”

“What do you know of him? He seems to be a mystical being, not a man.”

“He is human, alright, in the darkest, cruellest sense. Over twenty years ago, when he was still a student at MIT, Magdar was suffering from megalomania. He thought he could change the world and make it a better place by using black magic. He became addicted to the powers of the dark side and started to recruit people around the King to help him in his plans. He tried to recruit me. As a troll my ties to the dark forces should be strong. My loyalty to the royal family was greater. He captured me. He tried to break me with torture and vile magical experiments. I was almost dead when Andrack rescued me. This incident lead to Magdar’s banishment.

The one think I know for certain, about his character, is that when he makes up his mind about accomplishing something, nothing will stop him. It took him close to twenty years of non-stop work, to escape his prison, but he did it. In the ensuing war, all the magicians, except for Andrack, disappeared. Andrack was left a shell of his former self. Do not be fooled by his jollity, inside him are massive emotional scars left by the battle and the loss of his powers. So, as you can see, Magdar always get what he wants…, eventually.”

There was a long silence, in which Ludger digested the information he had just received. The canvas that Dregnar had painted was not pretty. But surely something could be done. People like Magdar had flaws brought upon by their megalomania. They would lay out the rules by which the contest would be played and expect everybody to follow these rules. Ludger would have to find a way of bypassing these rules or of making his own.

He was also interested in knowing why Dregnar had not joined Magdar. He turned slightly toward the troll and said.

“You say that trolls are normally aligned with the dark forces. Is it too bold of me to ask why you did not side with Magdar?”

Dregnar looked down at his hand and meticulously cleaned the dirt from under one of his claws. He then sighed and looked into Ludger’s eyes. He said.

“Since you are not of this world I guess I can explain to you.

Trolls are creatures of low intellect that lives in hunting-gathering bands marauding throughout this land. They are just as likely to attack innocent travellers than to capture stray cattle. They are aligned with the dark forces that, as legend has, had spawned them. Once in a while a troll is born with high intellect and less bulky features. As you might guess, such a troll is the laughingstock of his band. His parents are ridiculed and he his beaten up by his peers and siblings. After many years of menial work you are lucky to die of exhaustion.

I was not so lucky. I was left for dead, in the woods, after a particularly gruesome beating. I was found by young King Bluthor, during a hunting expedition. He put aside any prejudice that he might have had and nursed me back to health. When I was strong enough, I pledged my allegiance to the throne. I have served the royal family faithfully since that time, over 40 years ago. As you can see I was lucky to have found somebody that was compassionate. Without him, even if I had survived, I would have been rejected by, both, humankind and my own people.”

Ludger considered the troll’s sad story. His respect for the poor creature increased tremendously. He felt sorry for the doubts he had, in travelling with the ungainly creature.

As they crested a rise, Ludger could see, less then an hour’s drive ahead, the cottony crater of the Mist of Dreams.
They drove the rest of the way in silence. As they approached the edge of the mist, Dregnar started to fidget nervously. Ludger told him not to be nervous. The crossing of the boundary should be uneventful.

They finally entered the mist. Instantly they were on the path leading to Ludger’s front door. Dregnar let go of a short cry of astonishment. He was thoroughly amazed by the new universe. He could not believe the lushness of the vegetation and the marvellous sight of the large log buildings.

Ludger pulled over to the front door, stopped the Samurai and said.

“Welcome home.”

The troll looked at him, wonder showing in his large eyes. He said.

“This place is so beautiful. I could stay here forever.”

“We could but it would not be fair to our friends, who are waiting for us in the real world.”

Ludger put his hand on the troll’s shoulder. He gently pushed him toward the front door. He said.

“Lets go in, I’ll show you around.”

He keyed in the alarm code and unlocked the thick door. He pushed it open and showed the troll in.

He gave the troll a quick tour of the house. The short creature marvelled at all the conveniences that modern earth technology had created. He was particularly impressed by the television set. Ludger showed him a few videotapes of his world. Dregnar could not believe how crowded, noisy and restless this society was.

Ludger decided to round up the supplies. He left Dregnar, by the TV, with a large collection of tapes and clear instruction on the operation of the machine. He left for the garage-storeroom.

He unlocked the armoury and opened the thick, steel clad, door. He fetched a custom made, high-powered, long distance sniping rifle in .50 calibre. As he was taking it apart for storage in a custom-made case, he thought.

“This should take care of any giant creatures we find…, I hope.”

He selected some specialized ammunition and closed the case. He locked the armoury. He put the heavy case on the table separating the garage, from the workshop.

Ludger went to a large walk-in closet. He took out some insulated clothes, thick polypropylene underclothing, ECWCS all weather parka and trousers and assorted foul weather gear. He filled a bag with survival equipment, powerful electric torches and spare batteries.

From his electrical workbench he dug out half a dozen powerful, hand-held, 2-way radios with spare power-packs. he also took a compact portable base station, complete with a collapsible antenna, a repeater, a self-contained solar panel and a small generator. Completing the electronics, he threw in a directional sound amplifier and a pair of night vision goggles.
Some light camping gear was added to the rapidly growing pile of equipment laying in disarray on the table. Ludger added some climbing and rappelling tackle and a few hundred-and-fifty feet hanks of 11mm braided nylon rappelling line. He, next, went to the metalworking shop to find the greatest variety of different metals. Pieces of different steel and aluminium alloys, nickel, tungsten carbide, brass, copper, tin, even lead solder and a long piece of titanium he found on a rack, by the lathe. He put everything in a sturdy leather pouch, added a small piece of cast iron, a few nails, an old zinc cup, some bronze weights and a few magnesium fire starters. He rummaged through the scrap bin and found small pieces of Monel and Inconel, copper-silicon and beryllium copper alloys and two small castings of phosphor bronze and manganese bronze, respectively. Ludger went to his office safe and added some small ingots of precious metals, silver, gold, palladium and platinum. He finally thought that this should do it.

Ludger was looking at the large pile of equipment, wondering how to, most effectively, carry it. He remembered that he had a sturdy pack saddle with large cordura-nylon bags, left over from the days, when he used to go hunting on horseback. That reminded him of the more carefree days, before marriage and the growth of his business prevented, him to keep horses and go on week long hunting trips. But, with regrets, those days are over. He must deal with the new realities of this new world.
Ludger opened the door leading to the kitchen. He noticed that Dregnar was still watching TV in the living room. He said loudly.

“Dregnar…, I’m going to the stables to get some saddles. Can you help me?”

After a few seconds, the troll answered with excitement in his voice.

“Come quick, Master Ludger, I have found the hero we were searching for.”

Ludger ran to the living room wondering about the discovery. He found Dregnar watching a Superman movie. The troll pointed to the screen. He said.

“See how this man of steel can fight the forces of evil. He should be able to help us. Can you ask him? You are the one with the machine that made him.”

Dumbfounded, Ludger looked at the troll, hesitated then finally replied.

“This is not real, it’s only a movie. It is a form of entertainment that represent fiction. It is made with regular humans with no special powers. All the feats of strength and power are made with special effects, a form of visual trickery.”
The troll’s enthusiasm was not abated, when he replied.

“But I have seen Master Andrack summon you from a similar looking glass with magic and you are here in front of me.”

Ludger did not like quenching the troll’s hopes, but he did not have any choice.

“Listen, I am not a magician. There is no magic in my world. What you see is only an image with no substance. I’m sorry, Dregnar, but an image cannot help us.”

The troll’s excitement suddenly subsided. He sheepishly looked at Ludger. He said an apologetic voice.

“I am sorry, but deep down, a part of me wanted to believe in the impossible. It could have been something we had overlooked. I am deeply sorry…, Master.”

Ludger patted him on the back. He said.

“Don’t be sorry, I also wish there was something overlooked that could help us. But I cannot remember anything that would be of any help. So lets not worry for nothing. Come, help me with the packing.”

Ludger closed the TV set and they both walked back into the kitchen. Ludger opened the garage door. When the troll saw the jumble of equipment that laid on the large table, he exclaimed.

“How do you think you will bring all of that with you? You are allowed only one pack horse.”

Ludger replied, laughing.

“Don’t worry, once packed it will take a lot less space.”

The troll shook his head, unbelieving. Ludger opened the garage door. They walked outside toward the stable. They went in, directly into the tack room. Ludger took his trail saddle, completed with gun scabbards and packs. He gave the troll, the lightweight pack saddle with the sturdy nylon bags that could be attached to it.

They returned to the garage after closing up the stables. They proceeded to organize the equipment and supplies. After a few hours work, everything was amazingly stowed in the bags. Ludger walked to the truck, parked outside, and drove it to the gasoline pump. He filled the reservoirs, both internal and portable. He then backed the truck into the garage. With the aid of Dregnar he stowed all the equipment in the back of the Samurai. He closed the garage door and said to the troll.

“Finally we are done. We will be ready to leave early in the morning. Lets go to the kitchen, I’ll make us dinner. I’m famished. Would a rib steak, baked potato and green salad be alright with you.”

“This would be perfect, Master Ludger.”

“Please cut this, Master Ludger, crap. Just call me Ludger.”

“Yes, Master Ludger.” Replied the troll.

Ludger shook his head in disbelief and proceeded to the kitchen, where he made the basic preparations for dinner. He also fed the dog.

They sat and ate dinner silently, in the kitchen, over a bottle of wine. Ludger felt totally exhausted after the last few day’s events. His body did not need a rest, but his mind needed some time to catch back with reality.

After dinner he decided to call it an early night. He showed Dregnar to the guest bedroom and bid him goodnight. He went up to his own quarters, showered and promptly fell asleep in his bed.

*

Ludger awoke early, the next morning. He prepared himself to leave. When he exited his room, he heard the sound of the TV set coming from the living room. He went to investigate and found Dregnar peering intensely at the screen. He cleared his throat and said.

“Good morning, Dregnar. How long have you been up, watching TV?”

Startled, the troll turned toward him and said.

“Oh…, Master Ludger. I only have been up for a few hours. I wanted to learn more about your world by watching your magic mirror.”

“You will get a biassed view by watching TV. But I guess a biassed view is better than no view at all. We should have breakfast and be on our way to Talenthar. I don’t want them to wait too long for us.”

Ludger went into the kitchen and fed the dog. He then prepared a hearty breakfast that both Dregnar and himself ate with enthusiasm. They gathered the last of the supplies and stowed them in the Samurai. Bacchus jumped in the back. She installed herself amongst the equipment. She promptly went back to sleep. Ludger and Dregnar installed themselves in their respective seats. Ludger fired up the engine. He used the remote control to open the garage door. He drove out and closed the door behind them. Without looking back he proceeded toward the mist.

*

High above our heroes, silently circling in the crisp, still morning air, a draken was looking at them when they emerged from the Mist of Dreams. At the same instant, far away, in a richly decorated room, deep inside a mountain, a tall, dark, imposing man, attired entirely of black, sat on a chair lost in a trance. He sees through the eyes of the draken. He watches as Ludger and Dregnar leave for the capital. He vows to destroy that man who has the potential to disrupt his plans.

*

After an uneventful, rapid drive through the barren desert, they reached the edge of the snowy marshes. This slowed their progress dramatically. They followed a bumpy, muddy path that meandered through the sparsely wooded, low lying hills, much to the discomfort of the passengers of the vehicle.

Under Dregnar’s directions and after many hours of uncomfortable pummelling, they finally reached the top of a hill overlooking the large city. The city was laid in concentric circles, on both edges of a long narrow bay, widening toward the sea. The outer circles (all four of them) consisted of two to three stories masonry houses with red, tiled roofs. Delineating the circles were fortified walls, pierced by large portals with movable iron grates. On the inner side of the walls were wide boulevards that circled the city. The avenues leading from the walls to the inner city, were staggered to prevent direct access.

Bridging the river, on one side, and the mouth of the bay, on the other, were massive stone structures with movable gates, build to defend the maritime access to the city. A massive citadel linked both structures, on the edge of the bay, thus forming the inner circle.

In the middle of the bay was an egg shaped island. On it stood the royal palace and the administrative buildings. They were surrounded by elaborate gardens which were themselves surrounded by their own fortifications. The island was linked to the mainland citadel by gracefully arched bridges. The palace itself consisted of a pink hue outer building, cornered by tall slender towers. It surrounded a massive inner keep whose peaked roof was tiled by a multicolored mosaic representing the royal coat of arms.

After admiring the city, resplendent in the early afternoon suns, for long minutes, Ludger asked for directions. Dregnar pointed to a narrow path leading to a wide roadway paved with cobblestones. Very happy to be finally on a smooth road, Ludger accelerated and started to hum to himself.

He soon had to slow down, as they started to encounter some traffic. The horse drawn carriages and assorted pedestrians scattered at their approach. They did their best to hide themselves. Ludger soon had a deserted road in front of him.
They reached one of the gates of the outer wall. Word of their arrival must have travelled ahead of them. The gate, that should have been opened at this time of the day, was now closed. Not a soul was there to be seen. Ludger stopped the Samurai in front of the gate. Dregnar climbed out and went to the guardhouse. He loudly banged at the door. After a few long minutes, a small peephole opened. A long argument, with much gesticulating on the troll’s part, ensued. Finally the massive gates crept open. Dregnar came back, grumbling to himself.

He said to Ludger.

“They finally believed that we were not envoys of Magdar. They have agreed to escort us to the palace, so we do not cause panic in the population. We are to follow amidst a group of cavalry officers.”

Four heavily armed horsemen suddenly appeared in front of them. They signalled to follow. Ludger proceeded slowly. Two more horsemen joined the group on either side, and four more followed in the back.

Thus escorted, they followed a maze of avenues on their way, toward the centre of the city. Ludger noticed that the city, and its citizens, had a grim look to them. It was as if once proud and happy, they now could only survive day to day, without hope for the future. As the group approached, people hid in side streets or doorways. They eyed them suspiciously. Ludger had never seen so much despair in peoples eyes. He vowed to do his best to help these pour souls.

The convoy slowly snaked its way through the city. After an hour they arrived at the inner gate of the citadel. The leader of the horsemen called for a halt. He advanced, alone, to the guardhouse. He bent down toward the attendant. He talked briefly with the soldier. He came back and dismissed his troops. He curtly said to Dregnar.

“You are expected. Please follow a member of the King’s private guards, that will come and fetch you in a minute.”

He saluted, gathered his troops, then promptly disappeared the way they had come. Ludger turned toward Dregnar. He said.
“Not a very sympathetic lad, isn’t he?”

The troll shrugged his shoulders and sighed. A few minutes later, a horseman decked out in ceremonial uniform, greeted them and asked them to follow. Ludger put the truck in gear. He drove through the massive portal of the citadel. He was awed by the size of the construction. The wall were at least sixty feet thick. A multitude of soldiers populated the garrison between the towering walls.

These soldiers were a different breed of men than the ones they had encountered when they first reached the city. They seemed well trained and had the demeanour of veterans of countless battles. They did not seem surprised at the sight of the truck in their midst. They even showed some curiosity.

After a ten minutes walk their escort lead them through a gate in the inner battlement and onto a bridge leading to the island. The sight of the beautiful palace lost in a sea of fortifications, seemed somewhat incongruous to Ludger. It reminded him of a beautiful woman, going down the street wearing hockey equipment. It might be effective in protecting her from bumps, but it is not a pretty sight to see (unless you are into that sort of things).

When they reached the inner courtyard of the castle, they were greeted by a stout, dark skinned, grey haired man wearing a lightweight, black chainmail. The man first dismissed their escort, then walked toward Ludger with his hand extended in a greeting gesture. He introduced himself.

“Greetings, Mister Morton, welcome to Talenthar. I am General Chargoff, head of the King’s armies. I am pleased to meet you.”

Ludger took the extended hand and suffered a crushing handshake that left his hand numb. He then replied.

“The feeling is mutual. I am glad to be here.”

The general pointed to a covered stall, by the wall. He said.

“You can leave your carriage, there, it will be safe and guarded day and night.”

Ludger parked the truck. He jumped out of it and briefly stretched his legs. The troll and the dog did likewise. He took a small day-pack from the back of the truck. He followed the General into the palace with Bacchus at his heels.
As they walked down an ornate corridor of grandiose proportions, the General said.

“We are going to the council room right away. The others are waiting. There are rumours of a secret pact between the Empire and the city of Leventhar. We are to leave in the morning to get the sceptre.”

The General stopped momentarily to talk to a soldier, standing guard by an opened door. Through the doorway Ludger caught a glimpse of a stunning red haired woman, pacing the floor of a sitting room. He thought he recognized her from his dreams.

The small group reached a set of massive oak doors, by which two guards stood at attention. A third man, dressed in a brown cloak, opened the door for them. He announced.

“Your majesty, and members of the war council, here are General Chargoff and Mister Morton.”

They entered a large, high ceiling, room. A long solid table, with sturdy chairs, was its only furniture. A fireplace was inlet in the far wall. A large map of the realm covered one of the side walls. Prince Arexis sat at the head of the table. To his right was seated Andrack, with his assistant, Eyegar, at his side. To the Prince’s left sat a small, grey haired man of indefinite age. He was introduced to Ludger as Balnor, the court scribe and historian.

The small group joined the Prince at the table, while Bacchus laid down in front of the fire. Arexis stopped studying the papers that were laid out in front of him. He welcomed the newcomers. One chair was still vacant. Before Ludger could inquire, a commanding feminine voice said, sharply.

“Why have I not been introduced to our new guest and how come no one his standing up to greet me?”

All the occupants of the room turned toward the door, where the red haired woman stood, dressed in a dark green velvet gown. Her right foot was stamping the ground impatiently, while all the men stood up reluctantly. Arexis cleared his throat and said.

“Princess Nathalia, may I introduce to you Mister Ludger G. Morton, who will be helping us. Ludger, may I introduce to you my sister, Princess Nathalia.”

Ludger bowed stiffly from the waist. The Princess, not even acknowledging his presence, sat at the end of the table facing her brother. Everybody reseated themselves. Ludger thought, that even though she was one of the most beautiful woman he had the pleasure to lay eyes upon, her haughty demeanour reminded him too much of his ex-wife to truly appreciate her beauty.

He was still lost in his thoughts when Arexis opened the proceedings.

“I am glad you are all here. Many new things have been discovered since we last met. First there are rumours of bands of goblins and trolls rampaging through the lowlands between Arnor and Setcryck. Second, there are massive troops already amassing in the Howling Mountains, with reinforcements coming on a daily basis. Third, Leventhar might be siding with the Empire if I do not become King rapidly.

As you can see, time is of the upmost importance. We will have to risk an attack no later than midwinter, or else our antagonist will become too powerful. Our first priority is to get the sceptre. Once it is in my possession and the flow of the river of Gods is restored, I have been told that Baldycree, Baldour and even possibly Leventhar will send us troops to help in the war.

While we will be away, General Chargoff will take charge of the troops. He will establish base camp in the plains north of Arnor. From there we will launch an attack to open the gates of the Magic Dam.”

Arexis paused and looked deep into everybody’s eyes. He continued.

“Our party will leave at dawn. It will consist of Chargoff, Andrack, Ludger, Balnor, Eyegar, Dregnar, a squad of Royal Guardsmen and myself. The bulk of the troops will follow us to establish a base. Already Colonel Dimitri, Chargoff’s aide-de-camp, has some troops already massed there….”

Arexis was interrupted by his sister’s voice.

“How come am I not included in your plans. I am just as capable as any man.” She pointed toward Ludger. “You bring strangers in our midst, but do not want your own kin.”

Before Arexis could reply she stormed out of the room. The prince dismissed the group and excused himself. He ran out after her.

Ludger felt ill at ease, standing with the others in the council room. He did not know how to react to the embarrassing situation. He did not deserve the outburst. The Princess sunk another notch, in his already low esteem.

Eventually, Andrack said in a booming voice.

“We should go and freshen up. We will meet in the dining room for supper.”

Ludger called his dog. He started for the door, where a palace servant was waiting to show him to his room. On the way there, Andrack caught up to him. He patted him on the shoulder and said.

“Do not take it personally. She did not meant what she said. She has been under a lot of stress lately, with Magdar threatening to capture her to make her his bride. She will understand that she will be safer, here in the palace. I know her well and deep down she is good and strong. Go and get ready for supper. I will meet you in the dining room.”

The footman opened the door to a suite. He told Ludger that he will be back for him in an hour. In the meantime someone would bring some food for his dog. Ludger freshened up. He changed into clean clothes, then laid on the bed waiting.
He silently dined in the company of the Prince and Andrack. After dinner Arexis bid goodnight to Andrack. He then went to Ludger’s side. He said.

“I must apologize for my sister’s behaviour. She had no right to insult you.”

“I understand what she must be going through. I have taken no offence. I hope that the situation will soon improve.”

“I wish you goodnight. I will see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Arexis.”

Ludger followed the footman back to his room. Bacchus greeted him with affection. After petting his dog for a long time, he undressed and went to bed. He feel asleep almost instantly.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

From 1990: One Way Ticket To Talenthar

The Sass

Chapter 5

Ludger thought about his predicament. He always had wanted adventure and a change of scenery. He now had both, plus a lot more he had not bargained for.

Everybody sat down after the elation of the toast. Andrack looked around the room and gravely said.
“It is now time to plan what we will do in the coming weeks, if not months.

First, we must lead an expedition to the source of the river of Gods, so that Arexis can claim the throne and the sceptre of Power. This should help us get the support of the outlying city-states. With them we could raise an army large enough to mount a full scale attack at the Magic Dam. We could regain the source of our magic and defeat Magdar. If it is not already too late.

This expedition to the north will be difficult due to the foul weather in the mountains, during the winter. We will also face marauding bands of goblins and trolls.

We should travel north to the underground city of Thorland, ruled my good friend, the great dwarf leader Kurden McNish. He should be able to provide us with guides and an escort to the source of the river.”

Looking at Ludger he continued.

“When we meet him, you should provide him with different metals from your world. Kurden is the greatest swordsmith alive. He will be able to forge you a magic sword that will be impervious to this world’s magic.

Tonight you will sleep here, in my keep. Tomorrow morning you will go back to the Mist of Dreams, to get whatever supplies you will need for our winter expedition. Dregnar will guide you back to the palace in Talenthar. We will start toward the north, on horseback, three days from now.”

Ludger was not sure about travelling with the troll, but agreed grudgingly to it. He suddenly remembered Bacchus, who had been left outside. He asked Andrack.

“I left my dog outside, would it be possible to bring her in for the night. I cringe at the thought of what might be lurking in the dark, in these parts.”

Andrack replied.

“Do not be worried, it has already been taken care of. Eyegar fetched your dog. She has been fed and lays waiting in your sleeping quarters.”

“I am surprised that she followed him. She his normally shy with strangers.”

“It is one of Eyegar’s many talents. He can communicate with animals and make them at ease. He his also a great cook. I am sure that you are famished, after your long journey. I will have him bring you something to eat, once you are installed in your quarters.”

Arexis cut in.

“Gentlemen, I am sorry to leave early, but I must return to the palace and continue planning the quest with General Chargoff. With this, I bid you good night. I am looking forward to see you again in two days time.”

The Prince quickly left the room, followed by Dregnar. Eyegar came in, a few seconds later. He said in a reverend tone.

“Master, our quest’s sleeping quarters are ready. Do you want me to show Mr. Morton to them.”

Andrack replied.

“Yes, as much as I would like to spend a long evening talking with Mr. Morton, I am sure that some food and a good night’s rest are the best for both of us.”

Turning to Ludger he said.

“Please have a pleasant night. We will talk early in the morning, before you leave.”

He shook Ludger’s hand, crushing it in the process and left the room. Eyegar, standing by the door, pointed to the opening and said.

“Sir….”

Ludger went to his chair and took his MAC 10. He followed the tall man down a series of corridors, that finally led to a thick wooden door. Eyegar opened it and led him inside. The room was fairly large. It was carved out of the solid rock, like everything else in this place. Against one of the walls was a massive, wood framed, bed with a canopy made of heavily embroidered, burgundy coloured, velvet. A comfortable looking eiderdown duvet and thick plush pillows covered it. Facing the bed was a sturdily built armoire, made of dark polished wood. A door stood beside it. The room was lit by wall fixtures emitting a moving orange glow.

At the other end of the room, a few comfortable easy chairs were tastefully arranged in front of a fireplace ablaze with flames. A bookcase was against the wall. By its side was a table on which stood some decanters filled with wines and brandies, a large plate of assorted cooked meats, cheeses and fresh fruits. The floors were covered with an assortment of ornate wool carpets of vaguely oriental design.

Ludger spotted Bacchus laying down on a large velvet cushion in front of the fireplace. The dog did not stir when he entered the room. Ludger stood there, taking in the aura of comfort emanating from the room.
Eyegar gently coughed and said.

“Sir…, behind that door, over there, lies the washroom facilities. The fire will last for the night. Your clothes are in the armoire, I fetched them from your wagon, myself. There is plenty of food and wine on the table. If you need me for anything, at anytime, please pull the red cord by the bed, the green one controls the lights. I hope that the accommodations are satisfactory and I wish you a pleasant night.”

The tall man bowed and silently left the room.

Ludger went to the door and bolted it from the inside. Hearing the noise, Bacchus sleepily stretched and turned her head toward him. Recognition lit her eyes and her short tail started wagging. He sat on the carpet beside her. He petted his dog with affection for a long time. He needed this touch of normality to prevent his mind from unravelling before him. He still could not fully accept his situation. He expected to wake up any minute from a bad dream.

After spending ten minutes lost in his thoughts, Ludger said.

“Its time to check out this room and to slip, as the say, into something more comfortable. All this equipment I’ve been carrying all day is starting to feel like a ton of lead.”

He went to the door, the MAC 10 at the ready. He checked the corridor. Everything was quiet. He closed the door and pushed back the bolt. He went to the washroom door and opened it. An enormous brass tub filled the middle of the room. A complicated looking set of gleaming copper pipes lead to it. In a corner stood a brass toilet. Against the wall, in front of a large mirror, was a brass sink set into an ornate commode.

Ludger said to himself.

“They really know how to accommodate their guests.”

He turned on the taps and slowly started to fill up the bathtub. He went back to the bedroom and opened the armoire. In it, laid, neatly arranged on shelves, the spare clothes he had brought with him. A thick dressing gown and fur lined slippers were also present. He put his MAC 10 on an empty shelf. He removed his heavy hiking vest. He put his cigar case on a low table by the fireplace. He unholstered his handguns. He put the Glock under a pillow, on the bed. His comp gun was laid on the bedside table. He quickly undressed, put his dirty clothes on a shelf, took the dressing gown and slippers and went to the bath.

His feet felt cold on the tile floor of the washroom. He threw the dressing gown on the commode and the slippers on the floor. He rummaged through the commode and found some bath salts that he poured into the steamy water.

Ludger had always preferred a shower, from a bath. But there were special occasions when it was especially helpful to slip into a hot bath to ease the day’s tensions. This was definitively one of these occasions. He stepped into the scented water. As he sat down, his body instantly relaxed. Whatever was in those bath salts, he could make a fortune selling them back home.

He heard the clicking of Bacchus’s claws on the tile floor. He looked as the dog approached him. She quietly nuzzled him and went back to the bedroom. Ludger felt good and relaxed for the first time in weeks. He would show these people how he could quest with the best of them.

He stayed in the water until it became uncomfortably cool. He drained the tub and dried himself with some luxurious towels, he had found in the commode. He slipped into the dressing gown and slippers and went to the bedroom. He filled a plate with an assortment of food, and a large goblet with a brilliantly red wine.

He sat in one of the overstuffed chairs. He stretched his legs as he revelled in the texture and finesse of the food. The wine compared favourably with the best of his world. He ate until he was full. He put down the plate with the remnants of his meal, on the floor, for Bacchus to finish. She greedily gulped it down, then returned to her cushion. Ludger carried the empty plate and goblet back to the table. He poured himself a snifter of brandy. He lit a cigar, from his own case, took a long pull and went to the bookcase.

The leather bound spines of many volumes, revealed a variety of technical subjects revolving around magic. Others dealt with philosophy or history. One of the former caught Ludger’s eyes. A treatise named: THE FUNDAMENTAL PHILOSOPHICAL DIFFERENCES BETWEEN MAGIC AND TECHNOLOGY by Master Andrack of Talenthar Ph.D.(MIT), F.R.C.M., F.R.C.P.. He took the slim volume from the bookcase and ensconced himself, again, in the comfortable chair. He read until he could barely keep his eyes open. Feeling totally drained he closed the book. It had stimulated a lot of thoughts, but he was too tired to make any sense out of any of them. He needed sleep.

Ludger shakily stood up. He threw the dressing gown on the bed and slid, naked, between the icy cold sheets. He pulled on the green cord. The lights slowly dimmed and finally winked out, leaving the room aglow with the dancing flames of the fire. Ludger quickly fell asleep.

*

Ludger was raised from a deep, dreamless sleep by a sharp knock at the door. His mind was groggy and he had no idea where he was. Slowly reality sunk in when he remembered the events of the previous day.

He heard Eyegar’s voice, muffled by the thickness of the door.

“Sir…, we are breaking our fast in the kitchen, in half an hour. I will come and fetch you, then.”

Ludger finally stirred under the comfortable eiderdown duvet. Bacchus leapt on the bed and nuzzled him. He said.

“OK! OK! I’m getting up.”

He rose to his feet, felt dizzy, then sat back on the edge of the bed. He shook his head trying to clear the cobwebs that had accumulated in it, overnight. He slowly looked around. He noticed that the room had been cleaned during his sleep. After a few minutes he rose, again, and walked to the bathroom. It had also been cleaned, fresh towels were waiting. He took a long shower, which seemed somewhat effective in clearing his mind. After brushing his teeth and his hair with the appropriate brushes, he went to the armoire, in the bedroom, to fetch his spare clothes.

Upon opening the doors he noticed that the clothes he had worn the previous day, had been cleaned. They were hanging neatly in the armoire. He thought.

“They have very efficient room service. Andrack would make a fortune in the hotel business, back on earth. Talk about unobtrusive service!”

Ludger quickly dressed and armed himself. He fetched his duffle bag. He packed it with his clothes and supplies. As he was closing the bag, the door opened. Eyegar walked in. Ludger picked up the book he had been reading the night before from the low coffee table. He turned toward Eyegar, showing him the book, and said.

“Can I borrow this, I did not have the a chance to finish reading it, last night. I would greatly appreciate to do so.”

Eyegar replied.

“You can certainly keep this volume, compliment of Master Andrack. Are you ready for breakfast…, Sir.”

“Thank you, for the book. And, yes I am ready.”

Ludger slipped the leather-bound volume in a side pocket of his duffle bag. When he was about to lift the bag from the table, Eyegar took it. He said.

“Let me do this…, Sir. Please follow me.”

Ludger shrugged his shoulder. He followed the tall man out of the room, with Bacchus on his heels. They followed a series of carved tunnels lit by smoky torches. Eyegar stopped in a featureless section of tunnel and turned toward the smooth wall. He put his hand on an area of the wall that was undistinguishable from any other. An opening suddenly appeared in front of them. Eyegar turned toward Ludger with a twinkle in his eyes. He said.

“Service entrance.”

They walked into the newly opened, dark corridor. After the first bend, they saw a dim glow at the far end of the corridor. They could hear some voices. Ludger heard a low growl coming from Bacchus. He hushed the dog to no avail. When they reached the end of the corridor, they turned right. They walked into a cosy country kitchen with a large stove-cum-fireplace, taking an entire wall. Andrack and Dregnar were seated at a massive table, talking. At the sight of the troll, Bacchus bared her teeth. Accompanied by a mighty growl she lunged at him.

The mystical creature was quicker than the dog. He rolled from his seat and quickly climbed to the top of the massive storage hutch that stood behind his chair. Bacchus got up on her hind legs against the hutch. She barked at the troll. She snapped at any part of Dregnar’s anatomy that he dangled by mistake in front of her sharp teeth.

The troll was cowering on top of the hutch. He was letting out loud mewling sounds. Ludger grabbed his dog. He tried to quiet her. She struggled to escape his grip, still growling loudly at the troll.

Eyegar walked toward them. He put his hand on Bacchus’s head. Instantly the dog stopped struggling. She turned her head toward the tall man, looking deep in his eyes. Ludger sat heavily on the floor. He watched, amazed, at what was going on. There seemed to be a bond between man and animal. Suddenly Bacchus shook herself and stretched. With her short tail wagging she went to lay down in front of the fireplace.

Ludger looked up, wide eyed, at Eyegar. He asked with bewilderment in his voice.

“What in the world just happened, here?”

The tall man nervously coughed, looked at Andrack, then back at Ludger. He answered.

“Well…, I just told your dog; that Dregnar was a good friend of yours and that she should not bother him again.”

Ludger closed his eyes. He thought.

“Here we go again, now I’ve got to deal with Dr. Doolittle. As if I didn’t have enough problems.”

He opened his eyes, shook his head, and said.

“Thank you.”

Ludger struggled back to his feet. He looked up to the top of the hutch, where the troll was still hiding. He said.

“Dregnar…, I guess you can come down now. I am truly sorry for what happened.”

The troll stopped making his mewling sounds. He peeked over the moulding, crowning the hutch. He looked around suspiciously, especially at the resting dog, then climbed down to the floor. Bacchus lifted her head from her paws, where it had been resting, looked at Dregnar quizzically, then returned to her sleep with a sigh.

The troll sat heavily on his chair, took a long draught from his mug of ale, then looked at Andrack. He hesitated for a moment, then said, while pointing to Bacchus.

“Master Andrack, I do not mind going to fight the evil forces of Magdar. But I will not travel with that beast.”

Andrack replied in a voice filled with mirth.

“Calm down, calm down. I assure you that our friend, Bacchus, will not bother you again.”

Turning toward Ludger, he added.

“Tell me, young man, how did you kill the two drakens that we found on your horseless wagon.”

Ludger, surprised by the change of subject, replied.

“Well…, I shot, and killed, the first one with my shotgun. I only wounded the second one. Bacchus jumped and killed it. She saved my life in the process.”

Dregnar looked with admiration at the dog, then turned his gaze to Ludger. He said in a quivering voice.

“Maybe, since this dreadful beast is able to slay a creature of evil, like a draken, I might have been too hasty in making my decision. I think I will be able to travel with our guests. But I will not trust that dog.”

Ludger was thinking that he did not look forward to travel with the troll. He also did not trust him. Meanwhile, everybody sat back at the table. Eyegar served Ludger a sturdy breakfast consisting of eggs, bread, and assorted cold cuts. It was accompanied by an herbal infusion that was the local equivalent of coffee. While Ludger started his meal, Andrack said.

“We might have lost the advantage of surprise, because Magdar can normally see through the eyes of his creatures, like the drakens. Lets hope that he was not watching at the time.”

Between bite Ludger asked.

“Are you telling me that with magic, you can see through the eyes of another creature.”

“It only works if you create the creature, outright, or if you remove the living essence of an existing one and replace it by some of your own.”

“Well, I will have to be careful, if there is a chance of our enemy knowing of my presence in these world. By the way, is there a quicker way to return to the Mist of Dreams. On my way over here, I had to travel to the north of that large crevice.”

Andrack looked at Ludger with a startled gaze. He said.

“You travelled to the mouth of the Dragon’s Lair. You have taken an incredible risk in doing so. The Gods only knows what could have happened to you.”

Unimpressed, Ludger remarked.

“I did not see any dragons when I stopped there. It looked more like the chimney of an old volcano.”

“Even though no one has seen the great dragon Malvenia in centuries, its prowess should be respected and no chances taken. Anyway, Dregnar will show you a more direct route that passes a little south of here.”

Ludger thought.

“Now they are afraid of an old legend, while a very real enemy is waiting to vanquish us.”

He looked at Andrack and changed the subject.

“What do I need to bring with me, on our expedition?”

“Clothes to survive the cold winter, weapons to combat giant creatures, material to help in the mountains, different metals from your world, and anything else you might find useful for a winter expedition to the unknown.”

“How will we be travelling?”

“The Prince will equip you with a battle stallion and a pack horse trained to follow it, under any circumstances. These pairs are bonded at birth and cannot be separated.”

The conversation died down. Ludger finished his breakfast lost in his thoughts. Eyegar cleared the table silently. He put a bag of supplies in front of Ludger. It contained some fresh bread, cured meats, fresh fruits and a gourd of strong ale. Ludger raised from his seat. He turned toward Andrack, and said.

“Thank you for your hospitality. I think that we should get going on our trip. I guess we will see you again tomorrow.”

“You definitively will. Let me escort you to your wagon.”

Dregnar took the supply bag and slung it over his shoulder. He then took Ludger’s duffle. Andrack lead the way, out of the kitchen. They followed him through the maze of corridors.

When Andrack opened the massive stone portal, Ludger noticed that the suns were very low in the sky. The weather was crisp and clear. A sprinkling of freshly fallen snow covered the ground. Strangely no snow was present on the massive keep and in a ten yard wide band circling it.

His truck was still parked where he had left it the night before. The little group walked toward it. Andrack walked around and examined it with excitement. Dregnar looked at it suspiciously.

Andrack inquired about the working of the truck. Ludger showed him the engine. He gave him a quick course in auto mechanics. He took his spare gasoline canisters and refilled the tanks.

Ludger bid the wizard goodbye. He called Bacchus to jump in. Dregnar climbed aboard with apprehension. He seated himself beside Ludger. When Ludger started the truck, the sound startled the troll so much, that he jumped out and cowered behind Andrack’s massive bulk. It took all of the magician’s considerable powers of persuasion to convince the troll to take his place beside the driver.

Ludger waved to the magician, put the little truck in gear and pulled onto the muddy path that led off from the keep.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

From 1990: One Way Ticket To Talenthar

The Sass

Chapter 4

Ludger was stunned. He looked at the tall man. He did not know what to think. This person knew his identity and was asking him to enter the strange building. He just stood there, transfixed.

Making a slight coughing noise the tall man said.

“Sir, you are an honoured guest here. His Royal Highness and my Master are awaiting you. Please do come in.”

Finally Ludger recovered from the shock. He walked in through the thick portal. He stopped while the tall man silently closed the thick stone door. In front of Ludger stretched a long corridor, smoothly carved from the solid rock. It gently sloped downward. The butler, pointing to the far end, said.

“Shall we go, Sir.”

Pushing back a feeling of dread, and realizing that he did not have much of a choice, Ludger agreed to follow. As they started down the corridor, Ludger queried.

“Who are you? Where are we? And who are we going to meet?”

The tall man answered in hushed tones.

“My name is Eyegar, Sir. I am the assistant of the great magician, Master Andrack. We are now in his keep near the kingdom’s capital of Talenthar. We are going to meet His Royal Highness Prince Arexis and, my master, Andrack.”

This did not provide Ludger with any new understanding of the situation. But now, at least, he new the names of the people involved. He followed Eyegar in silence, down the sloping corridor. Their way was lit by smoky torches set in convoluted ornamental iron sconces.

After a few interminable minutes, they ended up in a high ceiling rotunda. A half dozen openings lined the circular wall. Eyegar, without hesitation, went straight into a low set tunnel, opening on the right. This corridor was darker and of lower ceiling. It changed directions every thirty, or so, feet. They soon arrived in front of a strange, massive door. It was made of solid wood of an unknown species and clad in bands of intricately engraved iron. All kinds of cabalistic signs made a complicated pattern on the door. Ludger could feel a pulsing force emanating from it. He did not know what to make of it. He instinctively tightened his grip around the MAC 10, his knuckles turning white in the process. He had entirely forgotten that he was carrying the weapon.

Eyegar knocked at the door and ceremoniously opened it. It revealed a dark, cluttered, rectangular room carved out of the solid rock. The walls were covered with open shelves, loaded with arcane paraphernalia and dusty tomes. A massive, dark, wooden table was loaded with an impressive collection of phials, beakers, and more leather bound volumes. They were arranged in total disarray. In the middle of the room stood a large stone pedestal. On its top rested a large, shallow, black enamelled bowl. It was inlaid with gold cabalistic signs. A smoky haze filled the room. The temperature felt warm, after the cold dampness of the corridors.

At the far end of the room a roaring fire consisting of small tree trunks, was ablaze in a massive fireplace. Three people were seated in front of the blaze, apparently lost in deep conversation. When the door had opened the largest of the huddled figures daintily jumped to his feet, which was an exploit considering his bulk. He came toward Ludger with his arms outstretched.

The man was big. He was well over six foot six and must have weighed at least three hundred and fifty pounds. He was wearing a shiny, midnight blue, silk gown that covered him to his feet. It contrasted deeply with the long mane of white hair that crowned his head. A long tapering white beard adorned his face. The man had a ruddy complexion and his deep blue eyes twinkled like a child’s. His mobile pink mouth was pursed into a smile, that accentuated the twinkle and displayed a row of perfectly formed white teeth.

Ludger looked, awestricken, as the man -who looked like an overgrown Santa Claus- approached him. He did not know if he should fight or flee. He decided to stand his ground, since everybody seemed calm and composed, except for the large man who was bubbling with joy.

The large man finally reached Ludger. He grabbed him by the shoulders, lifting him off the ground in a show of colossal strength. He put him back on the ground and gave Ludger a crushing, affectionate, hug. Ludger felt somewhat battered and dizzy from the man’s exuberance.

The man, still holding Ludger’s shoulders, looked deep into his eyes. He said, in a resounding voice filled with excitement.

“Dear Mister Morton, I am so glad to see you. I hope you had a pleasant trip. Welcome to my humble abode. My name is Andrack and I am the reason you are here.”

Ludger’s thoughts reeled at this last sentence. Finally he would have some answers. But before he could formulate his questions, Andrack was continuing in an apologetic tone.

“But were are my manners? Let me introduce you around. You have already met my assistant, Eyegar.”

He was casually pointing to the tall man that stood silently by the door. He turned toward the far end of the room and pulled Ludger by his arm, as the walked toward it. Andrack pointed to a powerfully built man about Ludger’s age. The first thing that caught the eye was his full head of tousled red hair. The second one was an honest open face lit by serious violet eyes. He looked somewhat regal, dressed in soft leather pants, tucked into short, shiny, boots and an embroidered, royal purple, velvet smoking jacket over a ruffled white shirt. He was seated on the edge of an elaborately carved chair, shifting nervously as if uncomfortable with the whole situation.

Andrack said, bowing to the young man.

“This is His Royal Highness Prince Arexis, heir to the throne of the Kingdom. Your Majesty, may I introduce to you Mister Ludger P. Morton, our chosen Saviour.”

Ludger, not knowing what to do, bowed and coughed nervously. As he straightened himself up, his eyes caught sight of the fourth person in the room. The creature looked about four feet tall. It was seated on a square stone in front of the fireplace. It had long wiry limbs that ended in three fingers and toes, tipped by sharp, curved, black claws. Its wide-set, intelligent, brown eyes seemed to gleam wildly in the firelight. Its short snout was cut by a wide, lipless, mouth full of sharp pointy teeth. The creature was covered by sparse silky fur. Its head was bordered by large pointed ears. It was dressed in emerald green velvet shorts with bright red suspenders.

Ludger nervously glanced at the strange creature. He half expected it to jump for his throat. He nervously toyed with the safety catch of the MAC 10.

Andrack, pointing to the creature, finally said.

“This is Dregnar, an intellectual Troll at the service of His Majesty’s family. He his Prince Arexis faithful servant.”

After the introductions were completed, everybody stared at each other nervously. Ludger was confused by the situation. He did not know how to start getting answers to the flood of questions coming to his mind.

Andrack, seeming to sense Ludger’s growing confusion, said.

“Excuse me for the strange circumstance of our meeting. You must understand that, what was done was agreed to in last resort, after all other possibilities were exhausted. We need you to save our world, and possibly yours, from utter destruction by the forces of evil.”

Ludger, looking intensely in the magician’s eyes, pointed the MAC 10 to the man’s large abdomen. He said in a low menacing voice.

“You may have agreed, but I was not consulted in this matter. I want you to return me to my world, right now….”

A pained expression came over Andrack’s normally cheerful face. He sighed, then said in a surprisingly low voice.

“Dear Mister Morton, it pains me to inform you, that it is impossible for me to grant you your wish. Even if I wanted to. I used all of what remained of my magical powers to bring you here.”

When he heard this, Ludger’s arms went limp. He sat heavily in a chair, in front of the Prince. He put his MAC 10 on the floor at his side. He put his elbows on his knees, grabbed his head with both hands, and while looking down at the bare stone floorsighed deeply.

Deep inside him, Ludger had believed, that when he would have found the people responsible for his presence in this world, he would be sent back to his own world in time to be at work on monday morning. He had never believed that this could be a permanent situation. Andrack’s last words had taken all the resolve out of him.

Dregnar, looking at the Prince, said in a high-pitched gravelly voice.

“Your Highness, I always thought that it was a bad idea to bring a stranger to help us.”

The young Prince looked at his servant and said in a deep voice.

“Poor Dregnar, this is no time for regrets. We must find another way to fight this evil.”

He then looked at Ludger and continued.

“Dear Sir, I wish that you would join our quest. But if you decide against it, we will offer you all the hospitality possible in these trying times. Your are welcome to stay as long as you wish at the castle in Talenthar.”

Ludger, forcing a drawn smile to his lips, answered in a tired voice.

“Your Highness, I appreciated your kind offer of hospitality. But I know nothing of your quest, thus it is difficult for me to make up my mind about the future.”

Prince Arexis answered with a smile.

“Of course, Sir, I will let Master Andrack explain to you the significance of our situation, and the importance of your help.”

Andrack replied in a booming voice.

“Your Highness, I will be glad to tell this long story. But, first, I am sure that our guest would appreciate some good Arthuran brandy.” Turning toward the other end of the room he said. “Eyegar, please bring us a bottle of our best brandy and three glasses.”

“Yes Master Andrack.” Replied the tall man.

He quickly bought to the fireside a silver tray on which rested a large crystal decanter filled with a dark, amber liquid. Three large snifters were also present. He offered one to the Prince, one to Ludger and one to Andrack.

Ludger looked at the generously filled snifter, twirled it expertly and took in the strong pungent aroma. It compared favourably with the best Cognacs and Armagnacs that he was accustomed to. He placed the snifter on the low table beside him, after taking a long sip. He rummaged through the many pockets of his hiking vest. He produced, from one of them, a long silver box that he opened. In it rested six of his favourite cigars (H. Upmann’s Lonsdales). He offered the box around and only Andrack took one of the long cigars.

With a beatific smile on his cherubic face, he expertly rolled it between his fingers and sniffed it with glee. He said to Ludger.

“This cigar has the most beautiful aroma that I have ever experienced. Where are they from?”

“They are from an island, in the warm south seas of my world, called Cuba. They grow, on this island, the best cigar tobacco in the world.”

Ludger felt a twang of homesickness, thinking about his world, but he nonetheless prepared his cigar and lit it with his small disposable lighter. He took a long satisfying draught out of the cigar. After he exhaled deeply, he grabbed the brandy snifter and installed himself comfortably to listen to Andrack’s story.

The large magician, looking at him, said.

“That was a neat little fire spell that you use to light your cigar.”

“It was not a spell. It was a mechanical device from my world, called a lighter.”

As he said that, Ludger tossed the small, disposable, plastic cylinder to the man.

Andrack caught it and suspiciously inspected it. He tentatively flicked the sparking wheel, as he had seen Ludger do. He laughed heartily when a little flame danced from his huge closed fist. He looked at Ludger and said.

“This is a very useful device.”

“Keep it. I have another on me.”

The little cylinder quickly disappeared in Andrack’s silk robes, after he had lit his cigar. He thanked Ludger for the gift, then eased his great bulk down in a chair, that complained creakily in protest. He let out a long stream of smoke toward the ceiling, as if searching where to begin. He finally launched himself in his long story.

“This world is a world of magic. Where you use technology, like the lighter you gave me, we use magical spells. Everybody can become adept at the household spells, but you need a certain affinity with the magical realm to aspire to the higher arts.

The source of our powers comes from the land itself.There are magic fields coursing through the land distributing the power everywhere. But, alas, these fields, by themselves, are very weak. They still permit us the use of the most basic household spells. They are inadequate for most other uses.

These fields used to be amplified by the mighty river of Power, after it mixed its waters with the river of Gods. The actual mechanism of this phenomena still eludes us. But since the rivers are dried up, the point is moot.

There are two kind of magic. The magic coming from the land is called white magic. It is good and used for constructive purposes, for the betterment of mankind. The other, more insidious kind, comes from the forces between the universes, from between reality and non-reality. It is called black magic. It ensnares its adept in doing evil things. It cannot be controlled. Lust for power control its minions.”

Andrack took a sip from his snifter and a draught from his cigar, then continued.

“This was once a strong Kingdom ruled by my good friend, the late King Bluthor, father of young Arexis here present. Prosperity was everywhere and magic flowed freely through the land.

Troubles started around twenty years ago, when a young bright student of the Magical Institute of Talenthar, MIT for short, became tempted by the dark forces of black magic. His name was Magdar. As it is traditionally done to magicians found guilty of this most heinous crime against society, the Board of Regents of MIT decided to banish Magdar. He would be sentenced to perpetual exile behind the magical doors of the Gates of Doom, in the distant Howling Mountains. Since his magical soul could not be brought back to the side of Good this harsh punishment was executed.

I was very disappointed of Magdar. He had been a brilliant student with great potential. But as chairman of the Board of Regents, my duty was to strongly support the banishment.”

Andrack took a long pull from his cigar and exhaled deeply.

“A few years back, Magdar escaped from beyond the Gates of Doom, with the help of a trusted advisor to the King. This traitor had organized a rebellion that led to Magdar’s escape.

Magdar’s powers had increased tremendously during his long exile. He was bent on revenge. He wanted to totally dominate the world with the help of black magic.

The Great Magical War ensued. It brought destruction to the thriving heart of our land. This area is now called the Desert of Death. You have crossed it on your way over here. The small fragment of your world that was brought with you, lays in its centre. It resides in a tear in the fabric of space and time, that was opened during the War. The Creature of the Mist, or Guardian, as you might know him, stabilizes that area, to prevent direct communication between our universes.”

The large man stopped his narrative. He leaned forward to grab the large decanter from the table. He generously refilled his snifter and passed the decanter around.

Ludger asked him, with a hint of hope in his voice.

“Do you mean that the Guardian can communicate between the universes and bring me back.”

Andrack replied.

“No, he can only prevent flow between the universes. He cannot directly communicate with any of them. He has no powers to get you back. Only I, might be able to do so if we restore the source of the river of Power.”

Ludger felt his last bit of hope crumble in front of him. He said.

“You mean, I’m really stuck here?”

“I am afraid you are. Unless we win and reestablish white magic’s powers for good.”

“How were they lost in the first place.”

Andrack, raising his hand and holding the cigar in front of him, replied.

“I was just coming to that point in my story. Here go.

This first assault in the War, ended in somewhat of a stalemate. Tremendous casualties and destruction had been suffered by both sides. Magdar’s extraordinary powers were no match for the combined might of the Magician’s Guild. While both sides had retreated to nurse their wounds and restore their powers, magicians in outlying area mysteriously began to disappear.

Magdar’s hordes of evil creatures launched a surprise attack against the forces of King Bluthor, who were guarding the magic dam that regulate the flow of water, and magic, from the Lake of Power.

The King’s forces were led into a trap. They were cut from behind by a band of rogue dwarves, who had been lured by the appeal of power. Enormous casualties were suffered by both sides. Unfortunately, my good friend, Bluthor was wounded during this attack. When Magdar got to him, he gave him his coup de grâce. He was able to grab the key to the water lock from the King, but fortunately, not the sceptre of power. This sceptre, when the King dies in battle, automatically returns to the source of the river of Gods. It rests in a magical cave where the new King will take his oath of loyalty to the land and claims the sceptre that will give him his powers.

The side effect of this, is that if the sceptre remains unclaimed, after a certain amount of time, the river will dry up. This has already happened. Because of the constant fighting, Prince Arexis has not yet been able to make the pilgrimage to the source of the river of Gods.

Shortly after King Bluthor’s demise, Magdar locked the majestic portal of the Magic Dam with the stolen key. A powerful containment spell was cast so no magic would flow through, it also restricts the access to the lock.

So here we are, with no magic at our disposal. Magdar is raising a colossal army composed of all the evil races. Be there goblins, trolls, mermen, black dwarves and elves, graks or other evil creatures, they will now fight united under Magdar’s banner to inflict us our final blow. As I am speaking these forces are amassing in the west.”

When Andrack stopped, Prince Arexis cleared his throat and said.

“Please hear me, Mister Morton, our troops are sparse and exhausted. We have no supplies. Since the death of my father I have not been able to claim the sceptre of Power. Thus I have not received the pledge of allegiance to the Kingdom from the city-states of Baldour, Baldycree and Leventhar. There is even rumours that Leventhar might be searching to form an alliance with the Empire across the sea, with which it has been trading for centuries.

The elves, protected by their enchanted forest, will not get involved in a fight not their own. The dwarves in the northern mountains will not help unless I am King. Also, to make matters worse, Magdar has claimed my sister, Princess Nathalia, as his bride to be.

We had exhausted every avenue of action. In despair we summoned the Great Oracle Trallen, Keeper of the Source of Power. With all his wisdom and clairvoyance, he told us that the only way to fight back the forces of evil, was with a different form of magic, brought by someone not of this world.

Andrack searched the universe for such a person, and you, Mister Morton, is that Saviour chosen by the Gods to help us.”

Ludger tried to protest but Prince Arexis continued.

“I implore you to help us in our quest, for the sake of our worlds.”

There was a long silence where both men held their stares. Ludger was annoyed that he was trapped against his will. He could only see two avenues, opened in front of him. First, he could return to his home and live like a hermit. This would not be too bad, since it was the reason he had built his retreat in the first place. Second, he could do as they wished and help them.

Ludger looked at Andrack and asked.

“What are the odds of me, returning to my world, if we are victorious? Also, how would I explain my disappearance?”

Andrack answered shrugging his shoulders.

“The return spell has never been attempted and could be very risky. Also all traces of your existence, in your world, would have been erased when you breached the space-time continuum.”

“Are you trying to say that it is improbable that I could return? And if I do return, nobody would know me. I would have to start a new life all over again.”

“I am afraid so.” Replied Andrack.

“This does not leave me much of a choice. I can start a new life here and now. Or hope that I can later return, if you win, and start a new life back home.”

Looking at the Prince, Ludger said.

“Your Highness, I will help you in your quest. But I do not have any special magic. You may find that I am not much help in your endeavour.”

The young Prince gave him a firm handshake and exclaimed.

“By the grace of all the Gods, I finally see some hope coming to raise the flagging spirit of our quest. Mister Morton, I heartily welcome you into our midst and, by the way, please call me Arexis.”

“Thank you, Arexis, you can call me Ludger. I am glad to bring whatever help I can provide.”

Andrack gave Ludger a powerful bear hug. He said.

“I knew you would help us. Welcome aboard.”

He then raised his glass and said.

“And now a toast…. To victory!”

Every body replied in unison.

“To victory!”

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

From 1990: One Way Ticket To Talenthar

The Sass