Tales of Fantasy, Fables, and Fiction

by Thomas H. Tribble

  "Fast and strong are no match for good, boy," Kyliodious quipped with a smirk.

  "Apparently, but it sure beats weak and slow," retorted Gomer as he pivoted, grabbed Maewyn around the waist, jumped with her twenty-five feet onto the staircase, lightly spun around, and tossed a Gomer-Cocktail at the man with as much vim as he could. The cocktail erupted with a contained cloud of raw fire and blasted the Man backward a few feet. Gomer smiled at Maewyn, who was quickly moving out of his arms, and said, "I call that move the Blastinator. Like it?" To which, the Elf just nodded and went down the stairs to help Nostromo.

  "That burned a little, boy," Kyliodious declared from the cloud of smoke. "Fortunately, my armor rather likes fire. If it were not for my ears ringing a bit, I do not think I would have minded that toy of yours overly much."

  Nostromo held in a foul curse and just said, "Damn, doesn't this guy ever just die?"

  The Man calmly walked over to where Lotus was lying and said in a loud voice, "Would you care to throw another one of those at me?" On the dais, another blast of lightning erupted. "I think this game is about to come to an end." He poised his sword over Lotus's neck and stated, "Now, put your weapons and armor in a pile and then we can talk. Do not make me kill your Cleric."

  The three whispered amongst themselves for a moment and decided their weapons were the only thing that might save any of them. Nostromo told the man, "You look in pretty bad shape. I think we three can take you. Prepare to die!"

  The man slowly reached for the leather pouch on his belt and replied, "Things are not always as they appear, buffoon. You do not yet understand. I am blessed with the power of the Ages. It will take more than a farmer's son and few novices to kill me. I am going to live on for centuries."

  "I still think I know something you don't," said Nostromo almost to himself. The Man reached into the pouch and then a look of concern crept onto his face. Concern became notable anxiety as he began to quickly look about his belt. Nostromo almost laughed and said, "Did you really think that my Thief was trying to wrestle with you when you grabbed him?" Kyliodious looked at Gomer who was holding up the Man's amulet for him to see.

  "This is nice," Gomer said, "Can I have it?"

  With that, Kyliodious exploded with rage and stabbed Lotus in the neck. The three made to move and Nostromo raised his axe back to throw it with one hand and seemed to aim the blow with his left, ringed hand. The Man crouched ready to dodge the attack. Seeing the ring on his hand, Nostromo changed his plan of attack instantly. "I disintegrate you!" he yelled as a thin ray bent the air between his ring and Kyliodious. A terrible aura enveloped him and surrounded his form with a thick, blue smoke that just lingered in a slowly expanding cloud over the dead body of Lotus.

  "You know I have always wanted to disintegrate someone. It really was very...." but the Fighter was interrupted by Kyliodious leaping forward out of the smoke. He was all but nude as his exquisite armor was no more and all he was now wearing was his gloves, boots, and a thin tunic that he had on under his maille. "Oh, dammit!" cursed Nostromo.

  "Do you have ANY IDEA how much that armor costs!" screamed Kyliodious.

  Nostromo, almost in tears, replied, "Yeah, I had planned on wearing it if it survived. Hey, at least you still have some pants on." He shook his head and tried not to sob. The Man moved towards them but Nostromo lifted his hand and said, "Wait a moment, good sir. Maewyn, would either you or Gomer mind if the gentleman here retrieved a shield from the next room? Without his armor and amulet, he will not live very long. Those guards had what looked to be at least one usable shield. I know I wouldn't mind leveling the playing field." The other two just shrugged. The Man peered at the three with narrow eyes trying to figure out what their angle was. "Like I say, I know I wouldn't mind, but I think Lotus might." The Man's eyes widened and he spun around just in time to receive a sword point deep in his stomach. Lotus stood behind him, her body glistening in the dim light, dampened by her own blood. She had fire in her eyes and wore a savage, scintillating sneer.

  Kyliodious crumpled to the ground holding his abdomen. He whispered, "Killed by a Cleric? It does not seem appropriate...."

  "I am no Cleric. I am a Healer," responded Lotus. The Man nodded, wincing in pain. Then, Lotus took a step forward, wound up her sword arm, and removed Kyliodious's head from his body.

  It is a well known but often overlooked fact that, while Healers cannot throw any real offensive spells like Spiritual Hammer or Flame Strike, they are more than compensated for this by several advantages. Their healing spells are more effective than lay Clerics' are, their Deities allow them to invoke healing instead of the other divine spells they have meditated on for the day, and, as pertains to this situation, when either killed or brought to an unconscious state, whatever divine invocations they have at the ready are automatically cast upon themselves. This makes Healers no tougher to initially dispose of but much, much more difficult to actually dispatch permanently.

  "Finally. Let's see him get out of this one," Nostromo opined as he took Kyliodious's head and tossed it far away from his body. "We'll burn his corpse or whatever later. We still have much work to do. Have you any healing spells left, Lotus?"

  She nodded as she was sponging her blood off of her armor and neck. "I have two very minor invocations left. I can stop your thigh from bleeding but that it about all. That is a very nasty gash you have."

  Maewyn then asked, "And what about you? Has your fear of the Lich subsided?"

  "Not really, but dying sort of forced me to overcome my shock. I am not going anywhere near that thing, but I will be happy to stave off anything else that might come our way."

  The Elf replied, "That will have to do. Does anyone have any ideas? I could barely affect the Lich's body so I have run out of things to try. If we cannot keep it distracted, it will continue throwing spells at us."

  A ball of fire erupted at the far end of the room by the ceiling. Raislin was flying about again and seemed to drop to the ground quickly. He came trotting over to the rest of the group and he did not even stop to look at Kyliodious. His first words were, "Am I glad he is dead! I thought I heard you trying to disintegrate him, Stats. You'll have to fill me in on that later. What was up with that dagger chasing you, Gomer?"

  All the Rogue would admit to was that the dagger was back in its sheath after a replete struggle with it and that he would not be the one to lose it again.

  Nostromo said wearily, "Fine. We will deal with that later. Raislin, how did you fare against the Lich? I know you didn't kill him. By the way, what was up with you going crazy and smashing his throne?"

  "Well, I'll have to fill you in on that one later myself. Uh, it is no longer a threat though. The Lich is still kicking, obviously. That is about all I have to report."

  Lotus stepped forward and planted a full palmed slap across Raislin's face. "You lied to me. You knew very well that the Lich was undead and you lied to me."

  Raislin looked only slightly embarrassed and said, "Well, you know, we needed a Healer and, if you think about it, Maewyn lied to you to!"

  The Elf maiden retorted, "I am sorry about that, Lotus. I did not mean to endanger you so. I really did think that facing this challenge would help you overcome your well grounded fears."

  Lotus wrinkled her nose a little and said to Maewyn, "That's okay. I never doubt your good intentions." The two gave one another an impish hug before returning to the business at hand.

  Suddenly a feeling of absolute dread filled the room. The Lich appeared at the top of the stairs and announced in his croak of a voice, "You have impressed me. Dispatching my servants and engaging me thus has proven your worth. You will now serve me as my plans started in distant Ages are coming to fruition as we speak. Gold, power, and might will be yours in abundance! Come, I will induct your minds into my fold."

  "That'd have to be for a lot of gold," said Gomer.

  Nostromo said to the small man, "You are super strong now, why don't you go mess him up."

  "He
y, I have a better idea!" replied Gomer, "Let's crush him to death from a distance!" Then, he took out one of the new Gomer-Cocktails and hurled it at the middle on the marble pylon. It erupted and knocked a bit of stone loose, but otherwise it did little more than to leave a scorch mark.

  Raislin whistled and said in a hushed voice, "A nice try, but I do have a Stone to Mud spell left. I can bring that platform down. Of course, then we will have to fight that thing toe-to-toe. I don't really see the point."

  Maewyn's sword became a bow in her hand and she said, "At least we will all be able to get to him at once."

  Then, Nostromo smiled and told them, "Cast your spell, Sorcerer. Gomer and I will do the rest."

  The Lich had obviously gotten impatient and cast another Cold spell. The room, once again, became severely cold, though not as bad as the last time. Raislin was able to complete his spell and the base of the pylon flowed into a muddy river. The rest of the dais came crashing straight down, much to the Lich's surprise. All that was left of it was a pile of rubble and half of the stairway was still intact. Gomer immediately grabbed a large chunk of stone and threw it at their opponent. The Lich was stuck in knee deep muck, at least he was up until the moment when the stone knocked him backwards. Gomer laughed and tried to pick up a huge stone. It slipped out of his grasp and nearly fell on top of him. Good reflexes were all that saved his life. Then, cursing, he picked up a medium chunk and hurled it.

  Nostromo said, as he took off running up what was left of the stairs, "This is going to take forever." As he reached the final step, he leapt off of the ruined staircase just as the top step crumbled underneath him. As he fell, he made a tremendous swing with his axe which landed on the Lich's collarbone. One of the Fighter's talents was just such a type of powerful attack. Unfortunately, there was a downside to it.

  The axe cleaved the Lich deeply but Nostromo landed off balance as he had to overreach to hit his mark. His shoulder became dislocated and he sprang his ankle. He tried to land gracefully in the muck while keeping a hold on his prized axe. He wound up laying on his back slowly sinking into the thick mud. The Lich was still standing a few feet from him and it slowly turned to face Nostromo. Like some prototypical arch-villain, it began to hobble its way towards the Fighter dragging its left leg behind it. The glowing red lights that had become the thing's eyes centuries ago still burned with malice. "You will be honored to give your life energies to feed my own," it croaked.

  Nostromo was already wandering the garden path towards Death's door so he replied, "Now, back in the olden days, would that be considered an honor or a privilege?" He tried to sit upright but was having difficulty doing so as the pain from his shoulder was making the effort of dislodging himself from the mud a very slow process.

  The Lich now loomed over the Fighter and its hand began to glow once more. "Tell me," asked Nostromo deciding to at least get one last quip in before his friends hopefully saved his life, "Do you undead types learn how to loom over their prey in some kind of night school or is it a prerequisite for becoming consorts of the Afterlife? You see, this is just the type of thing us living, breathing folk without testicles that have been shriveled to petrified raisins want to know." The Lich's gaunt face almost smiled. Then, it suddenly looked up and was struck by a large stone.

  Gomer yelled, "So, are you going to finish him off or not? We are waiting!"

  Nostromo laughed to himself. Apparently, communication was not the party's strong suit, he thought. "No. Why don't you just keep heaving boulders at it. I find myself unable to carry on." And, with that, Gomer tossed three more stones at the Lich who was unable to avoid them due to still being caught in the newly made quagmire. Maewyn and Raislin both took up offensive positions at the edge of the mud flow and cast arrows and sling bullets at the creature while Gomer prepared to launch a final attack that would require every ounce of his Titan strength.

  Just as the Lich had worked his way out of the thick muck, Gomer propelled a huge chunk of flat marble at it. The rounded edges of the stone slab allowed it to roll like an oblong coin along an uneven table. It bounced its way at the creature and made a final tall leap right in front of the enemy. The leading edge of the stone caught the Lich's shoulder as it rotated around and down with an unstoppable force which all but ripped the undead Lord into two, un-even pieces. That largest piece, which contained the creature's head, right arm, and both legs, managed to stay upright. It stood there for a brief moment while all those left living in the hall just watched it. Its menacing, red eyes began to burn even more brightly. Then, it took a few long strides forward unsteadily making its way towards the Thief. A sound of dread left what was left of its throat and its right hand began to glow once again with an unholy light. Gomer froze and prepared to leap away from the horror coming at him. Suddenly, the Lich crumbled into a pile of fetid ash that mixed in with the dirt and mud on the floor to form a black, oily spot. The two glowing embers of its eyes slowly faded into the muck even as they seemed to continue to stare at Gomer.

  "You see," said Raislin, "I told you killing that thing wouldn't be such a chore."

  Nostromo was helped out of the mud with an almost effortless tug from the Thief. Raislin tossed Nostromo a healing potion and then he and Gomer set out to find the stash of gold Gomer said he could feel was in an adjoining room. The potion healed the Fighter's ankle and even helped his shoulder, if only a little. Then, he and the lady folk made one last check to be sure both of the enemies were still deceased, then decided it was time for them to take stock of the treasure as well.

  The treasure was all piled in a small room. It was booby trapped, but a few minutes of disarming traps and poisonous barbs left the party going through the same chests that they had encountered upon first meeting the Man. They were a little lighter now, perhaps, but still full enough to make even Gomer happy.

  The Thief insisted on carrying all of the room's contents to the horses by himself. Raislin seemed a little leery of this idea. He asked, "What if the strength potion wears off while he is under all of the gold? Won't he be crushed?"

  To which Maewyn assured him, "No, when it comes to gold, he has always been able to out-carry us all, even Nostromo. It is just his thing, you could say. I am sure he will not even notice his strength waning... as long as it is just gold he is carrying." Nostromo and Lotus both nodded an assurance to Raislin who let the subject drop.

  After a quick search of the rest of the adjacent rooms for hidden doors, Gomer lightly tossed all of the chests on to his back and proceeded to rush off with them. Raislin trotted after him saying, "I better keep an eye on him."

  Lotus looked coyly over her shoulder, her hair lightly covering one of her eyes and said, "I had better keep an eye on both of them." So, she went along behind the other two out the way they had entered the stronghold.

  As they went back through the main hall Gomer could be heard to say, "If we told the Man in Black what we've just done, do you think he would give us a reward?"

  Barely audible above the stone wall's echoes was Raislin's reply, "Possibly, but it would probably be better if you didn't mention my name to him."

  Nostromo let out a short moan as he slowly slung his axe over his back for his shoulder was not yet fully healed. "Tell me, Maewyn, is there any other outstanding family business that you feel compelled to fight in the near future? I would just like to know whether to start planning my funeral or not."

  The Elf shrugged slightly and replied with a smile, "No business that I know of. I do not think your funeral will be any time soon though. Perhaps we should focus on restoring the honor and name of your family from now on. Do you not have some clan rivals to contend with?"

  "Yes. The Stratocaster clan didn't get wiped out for hosting tea parties. But, I think we can afford a good, long rest before dealing with any of that." But, in their hearts they each knew better for Destiny waits for no one.

  Darwin's God

  by Jeff Baker

  "Two cc's of adrenaline now!"

&nb
sp; The needle found its way through his chest and into the failing heart. A nurse snatched the curtain around the stretcher. Nests of colored wires, oxygen tubes, and humming machinery surrounded the figure. White coated men and woman worked frantically in the confined area.

  The mechanical tone of his pulse in the air went deadly flat.

  "We're losing him!"

  The old man's eyes popped open with the sharp smell of antiseptic and frantic sounds around him. His gnarled left hand still clenched a small, worn silver cross as paralyzing pain shot down his arm.

  "How the hell can he be awake? Mr. Horn, can you hear me?"

  His eyes rolled back in their sockets, eyelids fluttering like leaves caught in a spring storm. With a final convulsive spasm, his body lay still on the table.

  Gabe felt the crushing grip surrounding his heart slowly retreat. The pain no longer burned fiercely; only a spreading cold remained. Lord, he thought, I'm on my way home for you have promised that whosoever believeth in your son should not perish, but have eternal life.

  An uneasy calm came over him in those last few moments, interrupted by a strange tightness in his thinking. A single thought flared across his mind: his wife. My sweet Sarah, 'til death do us reunite.

  Between the moment his eyes closed for the last time and opened for the first, the universe changed. Billions of galaxies rose from the vast darkness of space, completed their endless dance, and quietly died. The universe began its slow, inevitable collapse, completing the circle; but sentient life resisted, as it always had, and stubbornly triumphed.

  Gabe slowly opened his eyes as if he'd just awoken from a deep, refreshing sleep, surprised, but alert. He found himself lounging in a long forgotten easy chair. Gentle spring sunlight spilled through a half open window across his face. The smell of freshly baked bread and newly cut hay assaulted his nose as forgotten hints of the family farm surfaced. Before he could gather his thoughts, a voice jerked him around.