Giga Games 1/Giga Games.iso/net/d_d/caltech/fluff/chron.flf

Text File | 1993-06-22 | 30.6 KB | 583 lines

                   Chronicles of StoneGrip Keep

                   by Brad Samek and Jerry Young

                           Chapter  I


      Outside, the storms battered the Keep and the night raged like one
   of the insane.  Safely inside the granite fortress, Attilla sat within
   his study, ignoring the occasional outbursts from the storm.  His
   attention was focused upon a thick document that bore the seal of the
   Warlords.  Without any discernable cause, Attilla looked up from the
   parchment and faced the door.  A moment later, a heavy thudding echoed
   across the small room.  "Enter, friend Flash."  Attilla called.

      The door was pushed ajar and Flash entered.  Flash found it
   disturbing that the hobbit always seemed to be aware of him.  He took pride
   in his ability to go unnoticed when he deemed it necessary.  Knowing
   that the hobbit expected to be questioned about his unusual sensitivity,
   Flash simply didn't bother; he disliked bowing to expectations.

      "I hope I'm not disturbing you, Attilla."  Flash stated.

      "Not at all, Flash.  I was merely looking over the Warlords
   alliance proposals.  Nothing important at all," smiled the Hobbit.

      "Well, try not to worry about that too much.  I was talking
   to Galrond earlier and I think we have come up with something special.
   If it works, then we may not have to deal with Blackhand."

      Attilla seemed intrigued by Flash's statement.  Yet, Attilla was
   always the cautious one, even despite Flash's own sense of relief at
   what his newly formed idea would bring.

      "And what, pray tell, is that?" The hobbit asked.

      Flash smiled, his dark features seeming to brighten as the corners of
   his mouth stretched upward.

      "Well," he began confidently, "Galrond and I, after working through
   numerous equations and formulai..."

      "Flash, dispense with the science of it, will you?"  Attilla asked.
   "I'm a monarch, not a mage.  Besides, what you're speaking about now is
   like a foreign language to me.  Almost as bad as your - what is it called -
   Jipinese language."

      Flash winced at the mispronunciation.  "That's Japanese," he
   corrected and then saw Attilla's little smile.  He groaned inwardly.
   Attilla always seemed to make him feel foolish one way or another.  Flash
   wondered idlely if all hobbits were like that.  Looking over the
   hobbit's smug grin, he concluded they had to be.

      Ignoring his friend's jibe, Flash went on.  "Anyway, we think we've
   located Blackhand's home plane.  We might also be able to summon someone
   from that plane and bring them here.  In doing so, we hope to find out as
   much as we can about the Captain.  If he was anywhere as notorious there as
   he is here, then someone else might know how to deal with him."

      "It seems only fair that we let them share part of the burden,"
   Attilla responded, "But what, or who, do you plan on summoning?  We know
   very little about his world."

      Flash's excitement deflated slightly, "Attilla, don't be so quick.
   First we have to see if it is possible, then we'll worry about whom
   to summon."

      "Seems like a lot of trouble to go through and not take full
   advantage of it," Attilla chided, "But I'm sure the two of you know what's
   best." A familiar mischevious smile reappeared on the hobbit's features.
   "So, when are you going to try it?"

      Flash wasn't sure if he was being patronized or not and he thought it
   wise not to ask.  Instead, he said,  "We thought tonight, but Galrond
   refused to participate until you were informed," Flash rolled his almond
   shaped eyes dramatically, "Properly."

      Attilla simply grinned.  Flash suspected that the hobbit had
   cautioned Galrond to clear Flash's ideas with him before using it.
   Flash really couldn't blame them.  He was, afterall, impulsive.  During the
   War of The Company, that impulsiveness had just about cost him his life.
   Flash shivered slightly as he remembered his death.  One's body being
   consumed by the forces of magic simply did not feel well.

      "Okay," Attilla said at last, snapping Flash from his reverie, "Tell
   Galrond that I'll join you shortly in his chambers."

      Flash recovered from his thoughts and left, shutting the door behind him.
   Attilla stared at the door for a moment letting his thoughts roam freely.
   Turning toward the document, he reached out and casually slid it off the
   edge of the table.  He looked about the room sheepishly and said "Oops." to
   no one in particular.  With a mischeivious grin, he left the room and
   sauntered toward Galrond's chambers.

      Inside the summoning room, Flash concentrated on the words of
   summoning.  Repeating them over and over in his mind, he began to draw
   magical energy into his body.  The magic blended with his life's blood,
   flowing as if a part of him.  When it reached the level for which would be
   needed for the summoning, Flash began directing it outward, searching.

      He felt the very existence of time and space unfold before his will
   as he sought for the captain's home world.  Somewhere, he felt the build up
   of psychic energy and instictively, he sought its source.  He found it and
   focused his will upon the entity.  When he had sufficiently entangled the
   being with his magical web of energy, Flash spoke the words that would
   bring the entity to him.

      "Tarm-Kin-Toe!"  The words reverberated off of the stone walls of the
   small room.  Flash felt the power that he had drawn into him, expand
   outward and shimmer in the air before him.  The golden-blue aura began to
   take the form of a humanoid figure.  Flash had expected this.  Few were the
   demons or devils that took their own form.  Especially if they preceived
   the summoner as being as great in power as they were.  Expecting the worst,
   the elf tighted his will around the individual that was slowly materializing
   in the circle before him.

      "But that was ridiculous!" The figure exclaimed as it finished
   materializing.  The statement caught Flash by complete surprise.

      "What's this?  You speak Neusian," he remarked.  His words must have
   been heard by the human in the circle as the person jumped at his voice.
   Flash had not expected this action, either.  Generally, entities of power
   knew when they were being summoned.  Was this some new ploy?  Refusing to
   let his will scatter, Flash maintained it.  It was time to begin with the
   questions.

      "Ah, you have stabilized your form.  You appear human.  What's your
   nature?" Flash asked, his will demanding that the creature answer
   truthfully.  Flash was surprised again when he felt no resistance from the
   person.

      "I'm a human being," stated the being, his words tumbling out of his
   mouth.  Strange, thought Flash.  It was as if the human didn't have the
   faintest idea as to what was happening.  Nothing to be concerned about,
   yet.  At least he WAS human.

        Flash remained quiet and studied the man before him.  As he was
   lying on the ground, it was hard to judge his height, but Flash thought he
   might stand taller than himself.  Shortcropped, light, brown hair topped
   his head; it was styled in a fashion Flash was not familiar with.  His face
   was dusted with freckles, contrasting on his light skin.  Soft, dark
   colored eyes showed wisps of confusion as he glanced about his
   surroundings.  Pursed lips were opened slightly in what appeared to be awe.
   His build was of that of a normal human.  A thin, wirey frame touched here
   and there by a hint of muscle.

      What seemed the strangest to Flash was the attire the human wore.  Shoes
   that had laces running from the toe to the ankle, yet made of leather; white,
   of all colors.  Loose fitting breeches covered his waist and legs, the
   color of a starlit night and a dark leather jacket that didn't seem to be
   armor was worn on his upper body.  There was also a scent about him, almost
   as if perfume.  But, instead of a sweet smell, it seemed a pungent smell,
   almost like that of a spice.

      Flash began to think that his summoning did not go as planned.
   Surely, this was not a member of the plane that Blackhand came from.  Even
   the pirate did not dress as such, nor did he smell as a woman might.  More
   questions would have to be asked as the situation was becoming more and
   more unsure.  The only thing Flash could agree with was that the entity WAS
   human.

      "So you are.  Except, you are not a human from any of the known
   planes.  Where do you come from?"

      Flash felt something strange at this point.  It was as if the being
   he had summoned finally realized what was happening.  With a surge of will
   that surprised the elf, the person within the circle merely gasped and
   remained quiet.  The battle of wills was something that Flash always
   expected but never in a sudden outburst.  That, combined with a feeling a
   familiarity that washed over the elf suddenly, piqued his curiosity.
   Bringing his will to bear harder, Flash pushed back against the other's.

      "Hmm... interesting.  But let's try it again.  Where are you from?"
   the elf demanded in stern tones.

      This time, the being cried out the answer, not being able to stand
   against the summoner.  "Earth," he cried.

        Flash didn't even blink.  "I've never heard of it."  Without
   missing a beat, the elf asked his next question.  "Do you have any magical
   or psionical abilities?"

      "Any what?"  the person asked in complete surprise.

      This did cause Flash to stop and consider.  The will the person had
   exerted was too strong for a nonmagical or nonpsionical entity.  Yet, there
   was no deceit or deception within the answer.  The answer had been quick
   and reflexive.  Still, the elf discerned an unlying aura.  It spoke and
   hinted at untrained potential.  Perhaps, the being simply did not know of
   his hidden abilities.

      Not wanting to give away his ideas, Flash stated simply, "So you
   don't, good."

      Passing his hand in a motion that would end the force containing the
   person, Flash stood and faced the door.  Galrond had been watching the
   summoning and even now, the elf's keen ears could pick up the light
   footfalls of the Lord of Stonegrip.

      "Come in, Attilla, he's harmless,"  Flash invited, knowing that the
   newly arrived resident would still be dazed from the transfer between
   worlds.

      Attilla entered the room, amusement clearly written on his face.
   Harmless was indeed an apt description of the prone human.  "Good job,
   Flash, this one should be able to handle the Warlords all on his own."
   Attilla joked.  Before him, the human let out something that sounded
   suspiciously like a chuckle.

      Attilla looked at the human again, his eyes narrowing slightly.
   "Yeah, definitely human.  But did the summoning put too great a toll on his
   mind, Flash.  Perhaps he is hysterical or he takes great amusment in being
   helpless.  I know, I'll have Galrond brew him up a tonic, it's the least I
   can do."

      All traces of amusment fell from the humans face to be replaced with
   shock, or perhaps awe.  Flash had missed the supposed humor emanating
   from the human.  All he saw was the awestruck look.  He turned back to
   Attilla with a smile, "Nice, Attilla, always a glib comment.  But don't you
   think we should let him get some rest first?"

      "I suppose it is the neighborly thing to do.  And who knows, perhaps
   his lack of social graces isn't even his fault." Attilla said as he
   looked down with a smirk.

      "How very generous of you, Attilla." Flash remarked.

      "'Tis part of the curse of rulership." Attilla replied with an overly
   dramatic hand upon his chest.  He turned to face the human, "Come, Sir
   Who shall remain nameless, I shall show you to your room."  he said with a
   chuckle.

      Attilla met the shocked gaze of the human.  "He really is a fine
   choice, Flash." Attilla noted that his sarcasm did not go by unnoticed.
   "He doesn't look well.  I think it's time for you to have a look in
   there."  the hobbit motioned toward the human's head.

      Flash stepped toward Jerry and extended a dark hand.  The forearm
   was extremely muscular.  The human took the outstretched hand and
   stepped forward.  Attilla could almost feel something passing through
   the oddly similar pair.

      Suddenly, the humans eyes opened wider and he said "I know you, Flash."
   Then, slowly, he slumped down unconscious.  Attilla looked at his friend
   and said, "You'd better carry him.  And I hope you haven't made any plans
   for the next several hours, we have much to discuss."

      Flash easily hefted the limp form and followed the Hobbit through the
   halls of the Keep.  As they walked, Attilla sent for a Healer to watch
   over the human for the night.  After they had them settled, Attilla
   turned toward the tall elf, "Let's go find Galrond and talk this out.
   Guard, have sentries posted at this room and have some food sent to
   Galrond's quarters."

      Flash watched the young guardsman leave, still surprised at the
   unquestioned authority Attilla seemed to hold over his people.  Once
   sentries arrived, Attilla gave them their orders and led the way back
   to Galronds chambers, all the while remarking on Flash's fine choice
   in heros.  Flash bore the comments in silence, lingering upon his
   contact with the human.  Some bond was there, yet what could it be?

      Determined to find out, Flash gently put his hand on Attilla's shoulder.
   Attilla swung back around, thinking that his friend had had enough of
   his playful glibs.  Feeling a slight rush of guilt, the hobbit started
   to relent and share a kind word with his friend. Flash didn't give him
   a chance.

      "Let us go back.  I need to check over some things that might shed
   some light before we have our discussion."  the sudden seriousness in
   the elf's voice caused any forthcoming apologizes to vanish without a
   trace.

      Curious as to what Flash had in mind, Attilla nodded silently.  They
   turned around and quickly walked back to the summoning chamber.  When
   they entered, Flash began to pace around the room, his eyes glazing over
   with a distant look.  Attilla waited quietly and watched.

      Flash sent his mind out into the room.  The residual magic of the
   summoning hung in the air like a cloud.  Tuning his mind to its structure,
   he began sorting through it, trying to discern where the link to the other
   world started.  His search came up empty, though, as he thought it
   would.  Once the spell was finished, all one could fathom was the type
   of spell and what had been summoned.  It was definitely human but there
   was a trace of something else, something more familiar that the elf could
   not put his finger on.

      Dropping his thoughts from trying to find clues about the human's
   homeworld, Flash cleared his mind and went to where he had inscribed a true
   name into the circle.  If he could get any information at all, it would lie
   in the true name.

      Attilla watched Flash as he finished he fifth circle around the small
   chamber.  The distant looked disappeared to be replaced with a new
   curiosity.  The elf mage walked back to the protection part of the drawn
   summoning circle and bent down, examing some runes that had been written
   in front of it.  Attilla heard a startled gasp that brought his
   attention to the elf's face.  The hobbit was stunned by what he saw.
   The unfearing warrior he had come to know as Flash had a look of such
   confusion and fear that Attilla began to call for his guards and Galrond.

      Flash stopped him with a gesture and Attilla waited for the elf to
   speak.  Instead, Flash simply stared at the name.  The name he had
   originally placed within the naming square was no longer there.  What was,
   was his own.


                           Chapter  II


      Attilla could not take any more.  Injuries unnumbered he had
   suffered in silence, but the bureaucracy of running the Realm out-
   lasted even his cat-like patience.  Igonoring the disapproving glances
   of his advisors, Attilla rose from the throne.  In a loud voice, he
   addressed those present, "I hereby appoint Valrath, Knight Champion
   of Tyr, to be my duly designated Justicar.  It shall be his duty to
   pass judgement on these matters."

      Those about could tell that the Knight was as shocked as anyone.
   After a moment, Attilla strode up to him.  "Do you accept this charge,
   Sir Knight?"  With a start, the Knight knelt before Attilla, "This
   charge I do accept.  May Tyr guide me."  Attilla motioned him to rise
   and shook his hand.  "Please take over, Lord Justicar."  With that,
   Attilla left the throne room, leaving the stunned observers to deal
   with the sudden promotion as best they could.

      Attilla strolled through the hallways, his light step and relaxed
   mein reflected the happiness he felt.  Even while he made the
   announcement in the throne room, he could feel the weight of his
   burdens ease.  In moments, he arrived at the lift.  'Now for some
   entertainment,' he thought.

      He exited the lift and slinked into the armory.  In the center of
   the room, he spied the familiar form of Flash sparring with the hero.
   The human, caught up in the contest, seemed to forget the dazed
   confussion that he habitually wore.  Perhaps there was hope for him
   yet.  Attilla decided not to intrude just yet and settled in to watch
   the show.  The dull sound of wood stricking wood echoed softly as the
   wooden practice swords met time and again.

          *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *

      Flash struck out again at the strangely familiar human.  Jerry, for
   such was his name, deflected the blow easily.  For a tyro with a
   blade, Jerry was doing quite well, but he fought in a strong defensive
   posture.  'Let's see how well he take the initative,' Flash thought.

      Flash made a slow, for him, sweeping slash at Jerrys head, leaving
   a large gap in his defenses.  Jerry easily avoided the stroke.  With a
   low, economical movement, Jerry thrust at Flashs exposed side.  In his
   minds eye, Flash could see the attack coming directly from Jerrys
   mind.  The attack came in low with an economical flair that impressed
   even Attilla.  Flash, knowing the attack, still was unable to fully
   block it.  With an encouraging nod, Flash stepped back and saluted
   with the wooden blade.  Jerry, his movements less smooth, copied the
   gesture.

      Flash did not let it reach his face, but he was becomming truely
   confused.  The style that the human was not just similar to his own at
   that stage of learning, it was identical.  "Where did you pick up that
   fighting style, Jerry?" he asked in a desceptively calm tone.

      "I don't know, really, it just seems to be the way to do it." Jerry
   replied evenly, face flushed with more than mere exertion.

      Flash looked at the human thoughtfully, his mind awhirl with strange
   visions.  Images flashed quickly through his mind, sights that he
   could neither understand nor recognize.  He saw miracles of machinery,
   dwellings that rivaled most castles in size, wonders that seemed to
   depend on nothing but mans ingenuity and the limiting laws of science.
   Suddenly, Flash knew where the visions came from, Jerry.

      With a sudden leap of insight, Flash began to put the pieces
   together.  'The same true name, the mental images, the similarities,
   what could cause it?'  He looked at Jerry with a gaze full of
   intensity.  "Let's get something cold to drink, we have some things
   to talk about."

      Confusion written clearly on his face, Jerry followed Flash as he
   walked out of the chamber.

          *       *        *        *        *        *        *

      'Well,' Attilla thought, 'Off to other amusements.  Flash is
   definately going to be to serious to be any fun for a while.'  Attilla
   grinned after the fading figures, his eyes gleamed mischievous.  For
   now, he would let them have their peace, but his new-found freedom
   would not allow the pair to leave the Keep unscathed.

      Returning to the lift, Attilla zipped up toward his rooms.  He
   pushed open the door and froze.  Before him, the dark room awaited
   and his keen senses said that he wasn't alone.  The thought took only
   a fleeting moment before his reactions took over.  He quickly pulled
   the door shut, cutting out the light to the room.  Without a sound,
   he moved aside and one of his ever-present daggers appeared in his
   hand seemingly by magic.

      Alone in the dark, Attilla let his other senses come to the fore.
   With a quickness that bordered on the supernatural, he took three
   silent steps and hurled himself to the side, grabbing his visitor by
   the neck.  Attilla, recognizing the guest, aborted the dagger strike
   that would have reft the consciousness, and perhaps the life, from his
   quarry.  "Is that the best you can do, Telk?" Attilla asked calmly.

      As the visitor allowed light to return to the chamber, the short
   half-elven met Attillas stoic face with a quick grin and a nod of
   respect.  "Point taken, Master.  Everything is finally ready."

      Attilla pulled on a line and a faint ring was heard.  Within
   moments, a servant entered the room.  "How may I serve you, your
   Majesty?" he queried.

      Attilla frowned slightly at the title.  "Please invite the Lady
   Tora to join us." he said.  When the door shut, the two thieves got
   down to the business at hand.  Shortly, the door opened again and a
   slightly flustered Tora entered, resplendant in a dark blue dress.
   She curtsied to Attilla with a delicate, "My Lord," but her eyes
   narrowed as she studied the other.

     "Please join us, Tora.  This is Telk, well-known braggart and liar."
   Telk nodded in greeting as Attilla continued, "I hope the two of you
   get along, your going to be spending alot of time together."  Attilla
   motioned for Tora to sit as he called for his steward.  By the time
   the old man returned, the three were already deep into their plans.
   The steward frowned at the confussed babble the three spewed forth,
   apparently at random.  Attilla smiled at his reaction and ordered a
   lunch for them all.

      Finally, the three sat back and drank a final toast.  Attilla
   beamed happily at his cohorts.  "Remember, we have to seem to be at
   odds with each other.  Tonight, we'll stage a suitable reason for
   your sudden departure.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a few more
   details to work out."  As the strangely suitable pair left, Attilla
   smiled.  Even getting this close to a thieves guild brought with it
   the excitement that every thief knows.

          *        *        *        *        *        *        *

      He floated in the soothing darkness, not wanting, not thinking,
   only being.  If he could have felt anything, it would have been
   contentment.  Yet, as he floated, he felt something pulling upward
   towards consciousness.  The touch was familiar, yet he resisted it
   and its grasp on him seem to slip off.

      Again and again, the presence reached out for him.  Finally, one
   word appeared within him, the word 'Anana.'  With it came a veritable
   flood of sensations.  His suddenly material body thrashed about within
   some small space as agony burned in his chest with blue flame.  His
   screams echoed, both within and without.  He heard some nearby noise,
   yet little heed did he pay it.

      His arms thrashed about and finally found something to push against.
   With a mighty heave, he launched the stone covering of the sarcophagus
   across the small chamber, felling three robed figures.  A shadowy
   figure leaned over him and placed her hands on his brow.  With a word,
   "Master," the pain fell away and Simon, Liege to those still faithful
   to dread Emperior, fell into a natural, healing sleep.


                           Chapter  III



        "You have some knowledge of using a boken, lad," Flash remarked as
he and Jerry headed back to the elf's room.
        Sweat still dripped from Jerry's brow.  He knew Flash had been
searching out his strengths and weaknesses during the sparring match.  Angry,
red welts spoke of where his weaknesses had been pointed out.
        "Well, what do you expect?"  Jerry said irritably. "You keep
smacking me with that thing and I don't have any choice, do I?"
        Flash cuffed Jerry behind the ears, causing him to flinch.
        "I decided to teach you the basics.  You're new to this world and
you still act as if it's a dream.  It isn't, it's real."  Flash smacked his
student on the knee for emphasis and Jerry scampered away quickly, yelping
in pain.
        "Anyway," Flash went on, "I don't know where you came from so I
can't send you back.  For all practical purposes, you're as stuck here as
Blackhand is.  You may as well learn the ways of this world; if you don't,
your life here will be short.  I can't go on watching you for the rest of
your life."
        Jerry looked at Flash with sudden curiosity.  "You mean that even
the captain exists..."  He stopped just as suddenly and turned away from
his mentor.
        They entered Flash's room and Jerry threw his boken down on the cot
that had been given to him for his stay.  He chuckled ironically; he had
never thought he would actually be rooming with someone he created for
a game.  When he turned around, Flash was standing in front of the closed door
and wore a determined look on his handsome features.
        "Now," the elf stated, "We will talk about a few things.  You seem
to know a lot about what's happening in this world.  One from which you do
not come.  You know your way about the Keep, you know of the captain, and
you know an AWEFUL lot about me?  I will have answers to these questions."
        "You won't believe me."
        "Try me and be quick about it.  I'm losing patience fast."
        "Fine.  On one condition, though."
        "What is it?"
        "After I tell you, you allow me to study ninjitsu under you."
Jerry's eyes shown with eagerness.
        Flash's face turned hard.  No one, not even Attilla, knew of his
style of combat.  And for all Flash knew, the style was exclusive to
his home world.  He hoped the answers the young human gave him would
explain all of this strangeness.  If it didn't, he would have no choice but
to kill the lad.  Flash could not allow someone with his knowledge to leave the
Keep.  It would put too many things in jeoprady.
        Jerry saw the look and knew exactly what it meant.  A slow flush
crept up his neck and he began to sweat.  Had he overstepped his bounds?
        "Deal," Flash said after what seemed to be hours.
        Relief flooded through Jerry.
        "Okay," he began, "You are a creation of mine.  Back in the world
that I live in, we play a game that involves creating imaginative
characters.  A single person plays god, dictating when and where something
happens.  The character is our playing piece in the world.  We use dice to
determine how well someone does something.  Combat is the most usual type
of randomized actions."
        "Because of all this, to create you, I had to make up a background
and give you a reason for having your skills.  Thus, I know a lot about
you and I could repeat for you some of the major events in your life."
Jerry stopped and then continued on an impulsive thought.  "And
to let you know without a doubt, that what I say is true, I'll tell you
something that only YOU would know."
        Flash's face remained blank.  However, he found himself intriqued
at the notion the young human was presenting.  Obviously, it wasn't
possible.  But the conviction with which the human was speaking gave cause
for second thoughts.  He decided to listen further.
        "Go on."
        "Well," Jerry began, his eyes wandering as he thought of a
situation that would suffice for his purpose.  His mind raced and he found what
he was looking for, then he continued, his tone becoming more serious.
        "What I'm going to bring up is something that you find very
difficult to live with; it's something that you wonder about constantly,
about whether or not it was the right choice."
        "So, what is it?" Flash asked, his curiosity piqued.
        Jerry cleared his throat.
        "You're impotent."
        Flash's cool fascade fell away to be replaced by complete surprise.
He stood staring at the human, unable to believe he had heard what was just
said.  Recovering his wit, Flash closed his mouth and turned away.
        "Why?" he asked over his shoulder.
        Jerry's tone was filled with simpathy.  "You traded your seed for
immortality.  It was the only way you could satisfy the requirements
of the wish and it was the only way to assure you remained alive for eternity
as yourself and not something else.  Your god just happened to agree."
        Flash turned back around, his mind set. "And do you also know why?"
        "Yeah, but do you want me to tell you that, also?"
        "No, you have proven enough.  I take it that because you created
me, your true name is also the same as mine?"
        Jerry looked a little nervous, suddenly, "Yeah, why?"
        "I was wondering.  In the circle, where I had scrawled a random
name, the name I thought had summoned you, was mine.  It has caused me some
distress."
        "It causes YOU distress.  If Anana finds out what the name is,
we're both in trouble and I'm in no shape to face her!"
        Flash smiled knowingly.  He understood Jerry's concern.
        "Don't worry, there's only one person that knows the name."
        "Valerian!" they said as one.
        Flash shook his head ruefully. "This is going to be hard getting
used to."
        "Humph, tell me about it. You're supposed to be make believe."
Jerry replied sardonically.
        Flash smiled fondly at the young human. "Come, Toralth."
        Jerry watched as the huge elf turned and exited the room. "Where
are we going?"
        "A deal is a deal, we begin your training now."
        Jerry groaned. "But, I'm tired."
        Flash stuck his head back into the room, a smile gracing his
features. "That didn't stop me and I won't allow it to stop you. Now, come
on before I teach you the consequence of not following your master's
command."
        Jerry ran his hand over the welts he had received moments ago and
decided that the consequence was probably worse.  Reluctantly, he followed
his new master out the door.
        "But, there're other things you should know, Flash."
        "Tell me while you train."
        Then Jerry received a stiff backhand. "You are also to call me
'master' from now on."
        "Yes... Master."
        This was turning out to be nothing like Jerry had imagined it
would.