by Char Cam
“Why’d ya begin wi’ me? Ya cood uv picked anyone else, but ya startid wi’ me.”
“All right, you can go--”
“Oh no ya don‘. Ya arn’ passin’ me up like I’m a nobody! I’m a Dwarf an tha’ shood mean some respect iz due, iz wha’ tha’ means. I’ll go firs’ as shood be and show how its done.”
Sonetshea fell in love with Bliztarf instantly.
“Ahm Bliztarf, a dwarf fro’ tha Comstof Mountains. Tha quest ah chose was ta find tha’ Scepter of Vision, stolen fro’ ma people nye a hundre’ years agone. Choosin’ tha’ quest landed me wi’ four others. Our seer has bee’ keeping’ a relic, a left arm, fer safekeeping. No one members why we have it, but it’s been decided it’s time ta find tha body it belongs ta. Then it seems tha Imperator is missin his son, so he’s gotta be foun’ and tha way ta do tha is fer some staff ta be returned and ta find tha Warlords of Tarn, who might’ know a bit about’ finding’ tha HoSafes and destroyin’ em.”
“Thank you Bliztarf,” Allon said gravely. “Trynor, please tell us your tale.”
The craggy-faced elf stood and solemnly spoke. “I’m Deathgiver Cryson and I serve the Healer Guild. The quest I chose was to find the Staff of Goren. With it, I’ve also been taxed to find six of the seven pieces of the Healer Consort. I hold the seventh, the lower calf and foot of her right leg, so my quest is actually twofold. Three other mysteries have fallen to me. I have news of a Scepter, Dwarven made, whose return might enlist the Dwarves to aid my search for the body pieces and also a possible call to war. But someone else searches before me, a young man of unknown intent, who could possibly be the missing heir of the Imperator and he seems to have the ear of the Warlords of Tarn. I don’t know their involvement with my ultimate quest, but they’re involved someway with the staff. That staff could be used to defeat the destructive HoSafe invaders. They must be stopped and the consort might be the only one who can do it with the Goren Staffs’ aid.”
Allon nodded in thanks. “And you, Kadan, your mysteries if you would grace us with their import?”
The Kadan stood and struck a pose. Ophelia looked at Liaylaha and grinned, waving her hand as if to cool herself, and mouthed, “He’s hot! Liaylaha rolled their eyes.
“I am Alvaro, Warlord of Warlords of the Tarn, now Kadan of Kilantrovar by the pleasure of our Imperator. My quest is to return honor to my clan, the Skedot Warlords, after the dishonor of failing to protect two in our care. One, a healer who once saved my life. To pay the debt, I secretly swore my own clansmen to her service in finding her lost daughter, the second we failed to protect. Though the healer did not ask for any favor, but freely gave of herself, I sought to help her in gratitude. We found her daughter, and a company of my warriors along with the mother went to retrieve her. But even as we rescued the daughter from her cowardly takers grasp, HoSafe militia ambushed us. I held the babe so that the Druid Healer might better use her skills.
“We were separated and I was gravely wounded. I know not the fate of my company. Before my helpless self, my beloved healer was cut in parts even as she still lived. With her last strength, she sent her healing gift into me and I smote her murderers with that last gift of health. But she had not healed me fully. I succumbed to unconsciousness. I awoke, fully healed, but the healer who had found me did not have the strength to heal my own healer, or so she told me. The babe was gone. She said she had no knowledge of a babe.
“My healers essence had gone far because the body was severed. She could not return. I swore I would not cease to find a way to restore her though it take me long years. The Healer said the only way for me to live that long was to become a Deathgiver, a perpetual servant of the Healer Guild. But the healer had deceived me. She had hidden her true self. She was actually a witch. She forced me to serve her.
“Secretly, I sought news of the babe and found she was given to a Hunter community. I must find her. This also will restore my Clans’ honor.
"Recently I escaped the evil witches clutches and recovered a thigh belonging to my healer. However…I don’t remember escaping. Or how I was even returned to this time,” Alvaro looked about perplexed, as if the answer were near if he could just see it. For a moment, he seemed very far away. He came back to himself abruptly, blinking rapidly.
“I found a Mystic and ordered her to search for the lost healers’ essence. After a long hunt, she found it. It seems that in order to survive, it had gone through the void between worlds and entered a young girl who lay dying in a world beyond ours. My healer saved the girl’s body, but the child’s essence had already been long gone. My healer resides in that body yet, somehow made ignorant of her true self. A ritual must be performed that will return her essence to her rightful body here, in our world, and return her to her true self once more.
"I also have news that the Dwarves may hold another part of my healer, but they look only for the Scepter of Vision. I look for that in hope of trading for what they have. A youth seems to have possession of it. The Staff of Goren is mine by right. It must be found for it is a mighty weapon against the incursion of the HoSafes, an enemy of unknown power that must be stopped.” Alvaro ended his story and sat with quiet dignity. Silence at the scope of his travails held his listeners in thrall.
Without prompting, the young woman volunteered to go next. “I’ll go next and I just wanna say this is so awesome! Five winners choosing five quests that interact with all five of their own plus all five of the five people whose quests connect the dots to theirs. I love this stuff. My head is going to explode,” she grinned as she bounced in her seat. “Wait till you hear this. Okay, my name is Elsbeth and my quest is to find someone who I think is my brother. I keep having dreams of this guy and I know I have to find him. I have this feeling that he’s looking for me too. He has this flute thingy and when he plays a certain song, this," Elsbeth fluttered her hands, "window-like door...something, grows out of thin air and if I happen to be sleeping, we can like, communicate. It’s wicked freaky. I can only understand a couple of words now and then. It’s pretty garbled. We’re too far away. Um... I think it’s time distortion? He’s taking little steps through that window and after he does, next time we talk, the haziness is clearer. Once he showed me two staffs. One was in a crypt and the other was in some dingy vault. He said they had to be found. I think. I’m supposed to help him get them, in any case. The other night, I dreamed about him and he was holding something totally gross. It was a severed arm and he set it on a blanket next to a severed leg part. That was so bogus I didn’t even talk to him.
“So what do you think? After listening to these quests, I think he’s collecting the body parts of the lost consort too. And this is another of my quests; when I find him, I’m to help him restore a lost soul. I know where an ancient ritual for reuniting severed body parts into a whole body is.
“Oh, and I’m sorta looking for a Warlord. Apparently, he was tricked into becoming a Deathgiver. Recently he escaped her clutches, and I need to find him. See? I’m an adopted child. I grew up in a hunting village and I mean, I love the people who raised me and all, but I gotta know what happened. My parents rescued me from an evil old crone who put me in a weighted bag and threw me into the river that runs by our village. My adoptive parents saved me, but I was mostly dead when they took me out of the bag. I have an affliction the village healer explained resulted from being alive and dead in two worlds. This Warlord served a powerful healer and perhaps she could...fix me. When I find him, I’m supposed to say,” Elsbeth turned fully to Alvaro and said softly, “I am the lost daughter. Return me to my mother.” Elsbeth looked uncomfortably at the table. “So...you’re the Warlord guy trying to find a baby girl? I’m kinda grown, but am I the one? The baby?”
Alvaro stood. He moved stiffly but steadily to stand in front of Elsbeth. Gently her took her right arm and turned it to look at her inside bicep. With a gasp, he then kneeled before Elsbeth. “You bear the mark I put upon you myself so that I would always know you. My Honor and that of my Cla
ns Honor is restored. You are found once again. I humbly ask your forgiveness in losing you and for not finding you sooner,” he asked, bowing his head.
“I can do that. I was raised well, cared for," Elsbeth said with dignity, placing a hand of benediction upon Alvaro’s bent head. Then she turned angry. "But that evil ol’ witch who trapped you has got to go! Not only did she do wrong to you, but she tried to kill me in the river! My adopted parents saw her and dragged me out half drowned. We both owe them a debt. And we owe that witch our vengeance!”
“Debts that will be paid,” Alvaro promised gruffly, rising.
“And you’re going to help find my mother?”
“Assuredly. It will be done. I swear it to you, my lady,” Alvaro said fiercely.
Elsbeth launched herself into Alvaro’s arms. “Thank you! Thank you so much,” she sniffed.
Alvaro gently held her and murmured soothing nonsense to calm her.
It seemed to Sonetshea that everyone took a deep breath and sat back to soak in all the coincidences of these myriad quests. To Sonetshea’s amusement, one stepped too far back.
“I don’t believe this,” Cryson jeered. “Yall are acting like this is real. It’s just make-believe.”
Liaylaha stood abruptly and hissed angrily, “Do you want to leave? Want to go without your mysteries solved? Or better yet, how bout without your prizes?”
Cryson reared back from the assault, bewildered. “He--eck no!” he declared after a swift glance at Elsbeth. “I don’t want to leave. I didn’t mean anything. I just, you know. Well he--eck I’m sorry.”
But the believability of the role-play was broken; there would be no getting it back soon.
“Perhaps now would be ideal for a break,” Allon broke in gently. “Lunch should arrive shortly. After lunch, Cryson can earn his way back into your good graces,” he smiled mischievously. "And we’ll hear Kada Sonetshea’s story at that time. So until then, relax, kick back and go over your profiles. Except for you two,” Allon pointed at Sonetshea and Liaylaha. “You have to find your third. I believe a hint was given earlier about a good place to start.”
“Right. Our third.” Sonetshea looked at Liaylaha, lost for ideas. Then inspiration struck both at the same time
“The Healers Guild!”
“Can I come with?” asked Elsbeth hesitantly.
“Absolutely," Sonetshea affirmed. "Her profile says she’s irascible. We may need your cat to pin her against the wall.”
All three looked at the, by now, loudly snoring Night Cat. Liaylaha summed it up well.
“Ladies, were on our own.”
The thrum of power vibrated even to the outside of the hall. Jolene unnecessarily straightened her dress. Nervous flutters tingled in her belly making her slightly nauseous. The man she was about to see held life in his hands--and death. He was a Chosen, a final authority in matters of state. Her interview with him was of the utmost importance. She knew it by how quickly she was given her appointment to report to him.
The door to the inner sanctum opened. "Enter," the chamberlain instructed.
Jolene walked, head bowed, to the middle of the chamber. A pillow for comfort lay singly for her to kneel upon. The chamberlain stood beside her. Any threatening move on her part, she knew, would bring about a swift death from him. The glow from The Shard reflected off the polished floor. Jolene did not look up. It was death to gaze upon the Imperator.
"Report," the chamberlain ordered.
Jolene’s throat was dry and her voice cracked. "Yesterday and today, Gamers have chosen Grand Prize quests. Among the quests was the restoration of the Consort. The one who chose the restoration specifically was named Ophelia Ransom. She chose the race of Altin Elf and is in fact a Druid Healer. An Elf Hunter, and two Deathgivers with one Dwarf Rogue are the other co-questers. All five quests of each of their quests connect to the others’ quests." Jolene fell silent.
"Thank you, Mistress Kentra. You have served well. Go with the Imperator’s blessing." The chamberlain assisted her to her feet and she backed to the door and out. When it closed in front of her, she breathed a heavy sigh, turned and walked quickly into the public areas of the palace.
The chamberlain walked up the seven steps to the crystal throne. The Imperator removed his crowned veil and thoughtfully placed it upon his lap. "What think you?" he asked solemnly.
The chamberlain sighed. "I think the doo doo is about to hit the rotary impeller."
The Imperator smiled. "Seems like. I think its time for Aerodon to come out and play."
The chamberlain grimaced. "I was afraid you were going to say that."
"It’s the only way to know. The only way." The Imperator stood slowly. "I’m afraid to hope." Then a determined expression replaced uncertainty and he walked behind the throne to the hidden door and left.
"Then I’ll hope for you, old friend," the chamberlain said softly. Then he strode swiftly down the length of the room and excited.
The Shard, Throne of the Chosen, flared briefly, then darkened in the silence.
FOUR
“You know that’s her, right?” Elsbeth said cheekily. She glanced at Sonetshea, the woman she knew must be her 'mom' the way the quests were interconnecting. Elsbeth quirked an eyebrow at her moms 'best friend'. Liaylaha wore an expression somewhere between horror and comical amusement. A sickly smile sketched itself across her parted lips. "That’s Liolith the Terror," she breathed out slowly in a whisper.
“...and you’d better not be thinking of putting those stinky feet down on my clean floor. You even think about it and I’ll tie your liver outside your slit middle and heal you that way!”
The Medical Guild Assistance Center was a squat square building perhaps four stories in height. It had a glass reception area that let in the summer sun to great effect as its luminescence lit the lobby with light spilling over planters overhead and throughout the area in patches of trees, shrubs, moss, and flowers. Trailing stems and climbing vines met at various heights along the walls hitching a ride atop each other, hugging in friendly harmony to see who could burst the best blooms.
The information counter, which was simply a smallish desk of old dark wood, had been set off at an angle about twenty feet inside the doors; it had been devoid of help. The women had then wandered some twenty minutes, walking its wide, silent, hospital-like halls wondering why it appeared empty of healers and how they were to going to find the third BFF. They’d peeked inside the largest recuperating bay of the facility, housing some one hundred beds. A shocking number of them were filled.
There they had stopped, shocked to hear this fun-filled harridan ‘caring’ for her captive charges. Funnily, the patients didn’t seem to mind her ‘bedside’ manner. Instead, they seemed to encourage each other to get her going on a tirade. Even as she growled, she rushed from one to another; fluffing pillows, checking bandages, giving a pat here or there, all while giving them a piece of attitude.
“…and Carstock wipe that grin off your face. It makes you look like a homicidal maniac—“
“I’m grinning ‘cause I’m getting out of here today and before I go I’m giving you a big fat kiss for saving my life!”
“Saved your life did I? Well then you better make that life worth living! Don’t go out and get yourself all torn up again! If you get so much as a scratch and I hear about it, I’m gonna be at your door ready to turn you over my knee! I’ll give you such a sore bottom you’ll think thrice about being careless again!”
“Healer, I itch,” claimed a man on the far end of the cots.
“Itch do you? If I hear one more person in here saying they itch, I’m gonna take my hammer to ‘em and give ‘em a headache worth remembering and no itch is ever gonna be worth the time to tell about it!”
“My leg aches,” announced another.
“Ache? Ache? Wait ‘till your Captain gets a hold of you! He’s gonna find you in fine shape ‘cause I’m writing an order for you to quick march up and down the Wickshire Mountain Trail! Fifty t
imes! Whine about how your leg aches then and I’ll order up another fifty marches!”
She was an Altin Elf looking to be perhaps twenty five. Her hospital scrubs were creased to a knife’s edge and her name tag proclaimed her to be Liolith. Her hair was the mixed browns and blacks which shaded a deer hide. It would be long enough to sit on if she unleashed its braid down her back. Rich coffee brown eyes in a heart-shaped face scrutinized everything around her, ready to pounce on any indiscretion within sight-- and apparently out of sight as well as behind her a man attempted to get out of bed while she adjusted another’s headrest. "I know you are not getting out of that bed without help Jermis Mylair," the Healer shouted menacingly. "Lay back down this instant!” She finished her current task then rushed over to her new rebel patient. “You’re barely sealed up as it is. If you get blood all over my bed and floor, you’re going on laundry and floor mopping duty until your grandkids have grandkids!"
Sonetshea rhythmically beat her head against the door, twitching.
“It’s her. You know it’s her.” Elsbeth found she was mistaken in thinking Sonetshea was dismayed when she suddenly whipped around, covering her mouth as laughter escaped, tears leaking from her eyes.
“Yes,” Sonetshea gasped. “The quiet one of us.”
Liaylaha sagged back against the wall, needing support as she coughed and choked with disbelief at such an understatement. “They’re winding her up. You realize that, right?”
“…wrap your tongue around a spittoon and make you swallow the contents!”
This, of course, set the two hyenas Sonetshea and Liaylaha off again; and darned if Elsbeth didn’t giggle herself. This questing gig was going to be a blast, she just knew it.
“What are you three looking at?” groused the petite brunette, the object of their fascination. She stomped over to them.