Just Means
Chapter 1 - Future Perfect
The city of Suzal glows in hazy amber tones as the sun sets on another day.
It is time to leave.
Wollanon sighs, and turns from his place at the landing outside of his room. Below him people, his people, move through the long evening shadows returning home to their families.
Yes, it is time.
As he turns, a sudden gust ripples through his nightime robes and blows his night cap off. As he stoops to retrieve it, Wollanon is startled to see Xej standing a short distance away, grinning. Xej snaps his fingers, mutters 2 words and his pipe flares to life. Pungent smoke fills the air between them.
"Well my friend what are your plans for the future? Are you searching for your son in Kara-Tur or search for your sword in the Abyss?"
Reading my mind again, eh Xej?, Wollanon thinks to himself. "The future of Kara-tur depends on finding both." Wollanon sighs again as he pulls his cap over his head again, and turns back to the city. He can see his warm breath now, the air cooling as the sun disappears into the horizon.
Xej, obviously not listening, continues in self-satisfied gibbness,"We can go to Ruktutal and try to scry on the demon who took your sword and the Annulus. If that doesn't work I suggest you return to Kara-tur and look for your son while I try to find a way to locate your sword".
I cannot return to my son without the sword. He needs it to rule Kara-tur. Now more than ever. Wollanon can hear the movement of robes behind him.
"Well then off to Ruktutal we go", states Xej. Wollanon feels a hand on his shoulder as Xej chants a few words. Before he can react the world twists and closes in around him and he is thrust into the heart of Fates fallen empire, Ruktutal.
"At least you could give my the chance to put on a proper pair of shoes." Wollanon's lip curls in disdain. "And what am I suppose to use against this abyss demon, foul language?"
Xej, still not listening, wanders over to the dark pool and motions for Wollanon. "Ok, the demon please Wollanon."
Wollanon frowns and shuffles over to the pool in his thin slippers. He stares into the blackness and mentally focuses on the beast that stole his sword. A ripple passes over the surface of the pool and a sullen, gray scene fades into existence. There are demons there for sure, thousands of them. Hellish figures swarm over one another. The air crackles with magic as fiends of all shapes battle amongst the deep mountains of their dead and dying brethren.
"The Blood War.", whispers Xej.
Well, you haven't lost your talent for stating the obvious, thinks Wollanon. Wollanon scans the area and directly below them he spots a familiar creature. "There!", he points into the pool.
"No!", Xej claps a hand over Wollanon's mouth but it's too late, the demon turns and gazes at the two of them through the pool with red eyes. In less than a moment he begins accending towards them, his fury evident. "Maybe its time to leave.", Xej announces, in a seemingly unconcerned tone.
"Oh my G..!", Wollanon backs away from the pool as a creature possessing inhuman speed blind sides his demon and pulls it back into the fray. The flurry of horror and carnage continues below them but Wollanon loses
sight of his demon in the swarm of destruction and gore.
"That could hinder finding your sword.", says Xej, offhand.
Wollanon stares at him, "Gee, thanks for the useless information." He stares back down at the mountains of bodies. Much time passes before Wollanon turns to Xej, "The battle is is beginning to wane, I think."
"I agree." states Xej. Without warning he jumps over the edge of the pool and into the grayness below.
"God damn it!", yells Wollanon as Xej floats downwards into the abyss.
Xej climbs over the carcasses towards the partially dismembered mess of Wollanon's demon and begins striping it of items. He whistles a cheery sea shanty as several demons turn their attention to him and begin bearing down. He dances a little jig as he stuffs several items into his pack. "And, of course, the ring!", he says as he works the ring off the demons clawed hand. Then with a word of magic he disappears only a moment before a dozen rage filled creatures crash into the spot he once filled.
"Nice one.", snorts Wollanon as Xej appears next to him.
"You're welcome.", Xej replies, snidely. Wollanon begins a sharp toned reply but Xej interrupts, motioning to the pool, "Perhaps you should dispel this image of hell before anymore demons attempt to fly through. Here these are for you". Xej tosses several items on the ground. Wollanon wills the image to fade.
"Thanks." says Wollanon. Xej continues to ignore him as he turns and conjures the image of their favorite tavern, The Angry Ogre Inn. "I'm not really dressed for...". Xej steps into the pool. Wollanon sighs yet again, gathers his stuff
together in both arms and follows his friend.
Stunned stares greet the two as they materialize. Familiar odors of food and people fill the air. A warm fire flickers in the corner. Outside it is evening. Many nod in recognition as they realize who the two adventurers are. Fame does carry some perks, a table is offered for Wollanon and Xej. Moments later a long haired serving girl comes to table, casts an admiring glance at the two of them, and offers them meals 'on the house'. Xej smiles and takes the young woman's hand. He instructs her to close it into a fist. Xej passes his hand over hers. She waits in expectation.
"Go ahead. Look.", she opens her fist slowly and her dark eyes widen. She covers her month with one hand and runs into the back room again, out of sight.
"What was that?", Wollanon forwards.
"Oh, just a little something.", Xej winks and leans over the table, "She's kind of cute, eh?"
Wollanon rebuts with a knowing chuckle. You old dog.
Xej returns to business for a moment, "Well my friend, we have done as much as we can for now. Researching a spell for to find the other items could take some time. Besides I need a break from all this adventuring for now. Maybe you should return to Kara-tur and look for your son. The spell research could take months"
"Months eh? Fair enough. I'll leave for Kara-tur in the morning. I know where to find you when I return." Wollanon settles in to his chair and looks around at bustle of the tavern. The serving girl returns with two plates of food. She leans over a whispers something in Xej's ear. Xej winks at Wollanon again.
Sometime later, with a mouth full of food, Wollanon perceives motion in the darkness of a fogged up tavern window. A large winged lizard seems to be eyeing him from the street. Xej's 'herbs'. I think they're getting to me. He stops chewing for a moment and blinks. The image shimmers and disappears.
Once the old heroes finish their meal, they reminisce about times long past -- fighting dragons, flying carpets, and time travel. So many adventures, so much time. Time. I'm not sure that means anything anymore. Wollanon looks across at his companion. Xej has started to fall asleep. His head lolls from one side to another. Xej looks no older than the day I met him. So much time left for us, so many possibilities. Wollanon ponders that. With possibilities comes hope. Hope that I will find my son. It will mean fighting more demons, proverbial this time, but things need to be put right.
Wollanon raises his mug one last time and drinks one last drink. It is closing time. He rises and wanders across the empty tavern to the door. Xej snores loudly in the corner.
And this time, no regrets. Wollanon puts his cap over his ears and steps into to cold midnight air.
By Rob Reinert
Chapter 2 - Imperfect Past
He saw the seventh demon at the last moment. He somehow managed to dodge left as its claw swept out and just grazed across his right armored leg. He slammed through three other demons that had been flanking him and everyone went sprawling. He rolled to his feet swinging his huge sword as if it were as light as a twig. His arms burned and he figured he had more than a few gashes, but the adrenaline was sustaining him for now. Besides, he only had to make it another forty yards to the portal. He swept his huge sword to and fro as if shearing grass. Body parts flew left and right but the smelly, disgusting, clawing creatures just kept coming. He charged his armored body into the middle of a pack that was blocking his ways. He could feel claws dig into his flesh between the plates of armor as he rolled over some bodies. Again he came rolling to his feet, his sword swinging in arcs, smashing through flesh and bone on its deadly graceful path. He could see the gateway now. His companions were already through. With a last burst of energy he charged forward, slamming through spindly bodies that gave against his force. He burst through the portal and slammed onto slick cobblestones. As he began to push himself up, he found himself face to face with one of the horrid creatures. It had come through with him and lay on the ground next to him. He grabbed the side of its head with one arm, and with the other threw his weight upwards. He forced all of his weight onto the creature and came down crushing the thing with a sickening crackle of bone and sinew. Its body decayed into a puff of acidic vapour. He rolled away and clambered to his feet.
His companions looked around and smiled. For the most part, they were unharmed. They had not been the ones that were the 'distraction' while the rest ran for the portal. They were not the 'glowing aura of goodness' that attracted demon's like a flame attracted moths. Thembo clamped his hand onto Ferras' shoulder and grinned.
"We did it, we're all rich! Rich, rich rich!" he exclaimed.
The others gave warning glances and Baramor went so far as to wave his hands back and forth, but the damage was done. Nothing that obvious was lost on Ferras. It was supposed to be a quest into the dredges of hell to save some lives, rescue some souls. As usual, his companions had been less than open with him. "So you were doing this for the money the whole time."
Thembo continued to smile, "Come on, don't tell me you didn't really know, in your heart. Man, we got the mother load. Just leave your haughty morals aside for a moment and you'll be set for the rest of your life! What has your God ever done for you?!"
Behind Thembo, Ferras could see Bupor slap his hand into his face. The more dangerous Gratok was fingering his spell components. Ferras looked about. A resigned feeling overcame him, for though he had become prosperous with this group of people, it was finally time to leave. He had done quite a bit of good while he was around them, and he thought he had rescued them from their own greed. As it turns out, that was not true. Yet again, it was time to go his own way. He was just wondering if this group was going to let their high paid warrior go. During his adventures with them, he had easily paid off his debts to them, and also gained some powerful items for himself, such as a very powerful sword, a girdle of strength, and a nice suit of armor. However, that didn't mean that they thought everything was even. Watching one of the most powerful members of the party walk away, with thousands of gold in magical items...well, that was something that he doubted these companions would stand for.
"You are right Thembo, you are all rich. I thought to save your souls, but I see I have failed, as in so many things in my life, I am a failure. I know that you have all been suspecting that the time when I would have to leave was coming. Well, that time is now, and I must go my own way." He paused, to let what he was saying sink in. He hoped that, still stinking from acid vapour and brimstone, and elated from their victory and new found treasure, that they might just let him leave without making trouble. "I pray that all of you are safe from evil, and most of all, I pray that when the choices come that test your moral strength, that even without me there, you do what is right."
Silence for a few moments as they all stood their, perhaps a little stunned from this sudden decision. Thembo sighed, "Well, it's too bad to hear that. You've certainly helped us get where we are today. And don't think you've failed completely. I actually couldn't sleep before we left for this mission because I was so worried that I was doing something wrong. I think you've left some sort of impression on us. But you have to know one more thing. If you leave now, we can't give you your share for the last mission." He sounded sincere, but Ferras knew his venomous ways....he was buying time while he considered something.
Ferras just smiled, "Friend, will you at least give the 10% standard donation to the church of Torm?" The air crackled with tension and uncertainty...
Thembo's worried look creased into a vicious smile, "Very well. Though there was no church of Torm in Sigil until you came here and started demanding we give them money. We're the only reason they exist." A few smiles around the group as they perhaps thought this might end peacefully.
"Well my friend. I think everyone in Sigil could learn something from the God of Duty and Loyalty."
"Indeed, they probably could. If he ever comes by, I'll be sure to buy him a drink."
Ferras' face went slightly more rigid. Despite the tense situation, he couldn't help but respond in kind, "Torm does not, 'come by for a drink'..."
Thembo raised his hands in mock defense, "Ok, ok. Well, Ferras, it was good to be your companion, you were a very trusty person to have at my side. May your pockets always be lined in gold." The situation, despite everything, seemed defused.
Ferras gave a sigh of relief, "Thanks. Farewell all of you, it is time for me to go my own way."
Thembo turned and walked back towards the others. As he did so, Ferras saw Gratok make eye contact with Thembo, and he saw Thembo's head nod up and down. Then Gratok began to weave his magic. The situation was not as defused as he first thought apparently. It was time to run. Ferras looked left and saw a door so he charged it. The rest of the party began to spread apart in the street and draw weapons. Ferras slammed into the door. The frame shattered and the door came flying open. Ferras rolled across the floor of someone's house and stood in time to see Bupor step into the doorway. His hand crossbow, loaded with a bolt that was dipped in lethal poison was aimed at Ferras. Bupor winked and moved the crossbow slightly before firing. The bolt slammed into the wall next to Ferras. Ferras nodded quickly and turned, running through a doorway and into another room of this house. Luckily, no one was home. Ferras could hear sounds of pursuit and yelling. Looking about, he saw he was in a small woodworking shop with a back door and a huge window that opened onto a major street. He pushed a large crate towards the doorway that lead into this room before leaping out through the window. As Baramor ran into the room behind him, his legs caught on the crate in the doorway and he went sprawling into a heap in the corner. Ferras landed on the cobblestones of the street outside as a few people leapt away from him and the falling glass. He glanced back once and then sprinted away into the maze like streets of Sigil.
It was several hours later, and Ferras was in some Inn called the Blender. Most of his major wounds had been healed by his own ability to heal, but he still had many painful scratches and nicks. He had already picked about 5 pieces of glass out of his body. It was too bad that Thembo couldn't have just let him go. Now he would have to keep looking over his shoulder, wondering if someone was actually following him, or if he was just being paranoid. What he really needed was another group to ally with. There was definitely safety in numbers. Unfortunately historically he did not work well in groups. Of course his first experience was with his Master, and her friends. Though the word Master could not be said without a certain bitter taste coming to his mouth. Surely any true Master would not have been such a creature of chaos. Surely not. He could still remember Elric's words to him, on the strange city streets of Sigil, as Ferras' blood boiled from the evil actions of his companions. "Don't leave, you can't leave now. If you leave now, they'll only get worse. You need to save them, you can't give up on them like this." Ferras knew that Elric was right, but could not make himself go back and face his "Master". He couldn't dare to hear her speak and act as if she were Torm's holy warrior, and then see evil spawn from her hand. And it was like she was blessed, for all her evil and imperfections. She was prosperous, had a magnificent griffin for a mount, and her magical weapons were those of a true hero. It was too much. Ferras could no longer continue to be her squire, or even be near her. He knew he was running away from what he must do. He knew it. He knew he would need salvation from his choices, or his soul would be lost. His past would not leave him...
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