One fine day, three friends (named Rich, Plin, and John) set off on a journey into the local higlands and canyons of central Texas -- specifically, Lost Maples State Park. They were... adequately... prepared for a long day of hiking and admiring the scenery.
As they were strolling along the Sabinal River, admiring the foliage, they happened to wander through a rare dimensional portal, totally unaware of what they had done -- which was a pity, because the last time they'd been to Lost Maples together they spent hours going on about how nifty it would be to find one, and what they would do if they did... completely failing to realize that you can't always see them, and thus, they sometimes slip right past you... or rather, you slip right through them.
And so it happened that the three didn't find themselves in another
dimension, even though they were. This dimension they slipped into
was in many respects, an exact duplicate of our own (but then, so many
parallel dimensions are, aren't they?). Still oblivious of the change,
they decided to pose for a picture on the limestone blocks in the
shallow Sabinal:
It was by a miraculous act of good fortune, then, that soon after Chain fled the scene to report to his master (disgruntled as he was by the distinct lack of luggage present... he really hoped to get a backpack), a lovely and friendly watercaster by the name of Mosili appeared at the tragic scene. At first she was simply distressed by her find, but her sadness soon turned to horror and rage when she realized (again, incorrectly) that one of the fallen men was the warrior-bard Random, a good friend with whom she shared a mutual fondness.
Summoning up her will, she cast a Water of Life spell on the three
who lay motionless... and gradually, the men showed signs of life, again.
Rich looked about. "That bit!" he said.
Plin rubbed his aching head. "You're not the one who fell backwards...
still, dying had a certain charm."
John brushed himself off, thinking, Dying?, then looked up and
cried out, "Liz!" at seeing Mosili, for she bore an amazing resemblance to
Elizabeth Potter, a dear friend of his.
Mosili was somewhat taken aback at being called "Liz", but since it
wasn't such a bad name, she shrugged it off. And yet, there was something
odd about these men, even Random....
In the long discussion that followed (did I mention English was somehow
the dominant language in this alternate dimension?), everything was
sorted out, and now that they all knew about the dimensional-crossing
accident, they felt better prepared to handle everything.
"Still," said John, "I'd feel better if we had a chance to get home."
Rich and Plin looked at him with an obvious expression of Are you
kidding?! on their faces.
"Well," John continued, "we DO already exist here, in a way... so wouldn't
staying be kind of confusing?"
After the others beat some sense into him, they all agreed at last that it would be a fine thing, at least, to be able to communicate across dimensions, and maybe pull a few more people in, so they all set off for the help of some impressively powerful magicians.
Fortunately, many things are the same across dimensional lines, so Mosili had with her a book (of sorts) which Random had left behind (accidentally?) after his last visit with her. John inspected it, and found that it contained, in his handwriting, the names and locations of various friends, acquaintances, and contacts, along with short descriptions of who they were, and so forth. There were also a few notes here and there which, though legible, were practically nonsensical or simply far too cryptic to be of any help.
Naturally, the four spent most of the first seven hours after they first opened these notes trying to decipher those bits, only to arrive at the conclusion that most had to do with the locations of various eating establishments -- a number of places all known as "Wenn Dies" (they pondered: "If This"... in German?) and one apparently smashing place called "Tschik-Phyll-Eh" -- in a vast settled area known as The Seraphim. A few other notes seemed to be song-lyrics-in-progress and there were a few lists concerning people, elements, and court rankings.
So they concentrated, at last, on the clear information, and came up with the following:
Green Exile, as Mosili explained to the trio, is a barren land, nearly devoid of any green plants -- hence the name (originally, it was a place where those who did not appreciate nature were forcibly moved). Strangely enough, it is also home to a remarkable number of people, many of whom have the odd psychological inclination to take a place already bare and rocky and cover it with artificially placed rocks and rocky slurries....
As they set off toward Green Exile on foot (John almost forgot to grab his camera and backpack -- which, somehow, Chain had missed), they pondered not only how they might acquire faster transportation, but also, what sort of assistance they might find in the far-off land. John had a sinking feeling that he already knew.
Their feet were getting tired, and Mosili was considering summoning some sort of transport (now that she had regenerated much of her innate magic power), when in a dense forest, they were stopped cold by the whoosh-thunk of an arrow passing by an embedding itself in... a large block of limestone?!
"I don't have to miss, you know," came a voice, oddly enough, from a direction quite different than that from which the arrow seemed to fly.
The others were about to let John speak up when suddenly the voice (again,
from a new and different direction) raised in pitch, lessened
in gruffness, and cried, "Random!" quite happily indeed.
("How many people does this _me_ know?" thought John.)
A fuzzy patch of the forest began to move toward them. As it approached
developed a few gaps, within which appeared silvery chain mail and
the face of a female sylvan elf. She stopped suddenly, though, when
she neared, just before she tackle-hugged the man she had mistakenly
identified as a long-time friend. Her change of expression was more
than noticeable... it was practically painful to watch.
Backing away slightly, she said,
"You're not the Random I know," as she pulled her elven cloak 'round
her, and began to fade from view.
She looked familiar, so John quickly decided to hazard a guess:
"Elva?" he asked, barely audibly.
Of course she heard him. She paused, listened as he continued to speak, and eventually, at length, she became informed of the situation at hand. She was not terribly pleased with the idea of going to Green Exile, nor fully comfortable with this Random-who-wasn't, but she offered what assistance she could provide to this odd assortment of travellers, and the blond human (not half-elf) who kept trying to call her "Lisa".
Elva led them through the forest for a bit, but as they continued to
look very distraught with the idea of walking most, if not
all, of the way to Green Exile, an idea came to her, and she took them
in a slightly different direction than before.
John, just as keen with direction-sense as his half-elf alter ego (or
was it Random who was just as keen as John?), noticed this, and inquired
as to just what was up.
Elva confessed, "A thought occurred to me, that I might save you a good
bit of walking,... so I'm taking you to see a friend of mine."
Rich, Plin, and Mosili, irritated that they'd been left out of the dialogue
for a while, all asked simultaneously, "...a friend?" -- for
though it hadn't been stressed enough to note in text, there had been a
slight pause just before those words that Elva spoke... the kind you
let sit just long enough to indicate that the words probably don't mean
what others would expect.
Somehow they managed to get past this without dwelling too long on
ominous thoughts, and, after not too great a walk, they arrived at
the mouth of a limestone cavern. Plin, Rich, and John exchanged glances,
then at once began, only slightly off-key (you never forget the classics):
"Like a Limestone Cavern...!"
They were rapidly silenced by an audible glance (!) -- a quick "Silence!" --
from Mosili. The watercaster looked worried, and was pulling out a pouch,
which sloshed gently, from some well-hidden recess of her outfit.
Elva ignored it all -- an impressive feat, given that elves are known for their sensitivity to dissonance -- and led them forward, into the incredibly well-lit darkness of the cave. The three guys exchanged another glance: essentially, "Why not?" They completely failed to notice the odd striations lightly carved into the rocky entrance, and paid no attention to the few, scattered, sky-blue platelets that had Mosili so concerned.
They weren't really sky-blue, but powder-blue, and their source was revealed after a short walk through about a half-dozen spacious chambers and hallways. As the group of five entered the largest chamber of these caverns -- a sweeping expanse of cool, still darkness -- somewhere, somehow, a light brightened, and the lump in the middle rolled over with a sleepy moan and a tinkle of gold and garnets (the other gems were sorted neatly against the far wall).
The sight was enough to keep John from really noticing that Mosili had quickly fashioned a shield out of the water from the pouch she had pulled out earlier (which she now let drop lightly to the floor). Meanwhile, Rich and Plin paid the translucent shield no mind, as well. Their minds were debating the issue of whether to gape in awe with the exclamation "Cool!!" overriding most mental processes, or to simply turn around and run like mad... until they could find a weapon or magical talisman or something. Then they'd be back.
Elva was absolutely casual, if a bit apologetic sounding, as she
spoke to the mass atop the pile of gleaming treasure.
"Sorry to wake you, but there's something with which I thought you
might be able to help."
A large powder-blue nose turned lazily to face her. The dragon
opened an eye and noted the other, silent, visitors to this lair,
then focused on Elva.
"Really?" said his particularly (for a dragon) pleasant voice,
as he achieved the dragon equivalent of an eyebrow-raise. "What
and how?" he asked, still a bit sleepy.
Elva answered, "Well, first, allow me to introduce you. Aimery,
this is Rand-- I mean, John..."
John bowed a bit, and smiled at something as if to say "Now
I understand!"
"And this is...," she paused, gesturing at Rich, then Plin, then
Mosili.
"Richard!" roared Rich, righteously.
"Plin," put forth Plin, plainly.
"Mosili," said Mosili, not having an appropriate way
to say things that started with the letter "m".
"And this," Elva said to the small group while indicating
the powder-blue dragon, "is my friend, Aimery."
Aimery had by now donned a large pair of spectacles and was
studying John.
"My heavens," the dragon said, "this man looks just like Random."
John sighed a bit.
"Yes," spoke Elva, "and these people need a favor which I thought
you might be able to provide."
Aimery snorted a bit, but not too rudely. "Dragons don't really
dispense favors... but they can set forth challenges, so
here's my idea: I'll grant their request... if this twin of
Random's can best me at a game. One Random never could."
All but Elva and John looked worried. John asked, "Which game
might that be?"
"Draw poker."
John could feel the collective "Huh!?" rise from those standing
next to him (but not Elva, of course), but he managed not to laugh,
and said calmly, "Agreed."
The bespectacled dragon produced from his stacks of treasures
a large deck of cards, though in the grasp of the dragon they looked
quite small. He shuffled, and alternatingly dealt out the
foot-long cards. Five to John, five to himself.
Each studied the cards, then Aimery looked at John and asked,
"How many cards would you like to replace?"
John tossed aside two, upside down. "Two," he said, proving
he could count, at least to two.
The dragon dealt him two and then placed the deck on the stone floor.
"I need none," he explained.
The others traded looks revealing their assessment of John's dubious
chances.
"As the bets have been pre-set, I suppose I shall `call',"
offered Aimery, laying down his cards
on the dark stone floor. "Straight, ace-high," he said simply.
Rich, Plin, and Mosili seemed to be inching out of the cave already
as John put forth his hand, silently.
"Straight, six-high," said Aimery, with a slight "tsk" noise.
"I'm afrai--"
Knowing it was rude, if not dangerous, to cut off a dragon in
mid-sentence, John nevertheless cut in with a straight-forward
(are you awake, pun lovers?) request:
"Look more closely."
At this point, everyone moved toward the cards for a look.
"Well, I'll be damned," said Plin.
"A bleedin' straight-flush!" added Rich.
"What does that mean?" asked Mosili, wanting her own line of
dialogue while at the same time being genuinely uncertain.
Poker, while extant, was not popular in this dimension.
John answered, "It means--"
Aimery interrupted, returning the service, "It means
that he's won, and that I am now committed to your request...
which, I believe, was to take you somewhere...?"
"We never told him that," whispered Mosili to John, somewhat suspiciously.
"No, you didn't," offered Aimery. "But you must realize that despite
my rather soft and powder-blue appearance, I'm still a dragon, and we
have exceptional senses and perception. Just as your whispers are
futile, so too is your situation right obvious. You arrived
without mounts, and a watercaster is little good for transportation
this far from a major body of water. Combined with the way you four
appear to be limping slightly, I'd say you need to get somewhere
far away, possibly in a hurry -- since you seem ill-prepared for an
extended jaunt. The only thing I'm completely unsure of is your
intended destination. Perhaps you could provide that for me?"
After this monologue, the odd quartet (not including Elva) was
a bit hestitant to go through with this plan. Perhaps it
was best to leave the dragon be. And yet, despite the slightly
snarky tone, the dragon seemed more like someone who just been
awakened from a particularly good dream, rather than someone
genuinely nasty... and the challenge had been fair enough, so
the four traded looks, then looked to Elva (who seemed entirely
too calm), then collectively nodded. John moved forward a bit
to speak.
"Yes," he acknowledged, "we do seek transportation." Somehow saying
`we need a ride' to this dragon (to any dragon?) seemed disrespectful.
"We would like you to take us to Green Exile, or to the nearest convenient
place from which we could find rapid transport to that land." John
bowed slightly, and stepped back, worried that he'd gone over the
top with the formality of his dialogue. This bothered the others, too,
since though their desire for lines was strong, their desire for
overly fluffy and weird-sounding speeches was not.
The dragon's brow furrowed (it was quite an impressive thing to see).
"Hmm..." he considered (it was more a noise to be felt than heard).
"I guess I have no choice, given the circumstances...." He began to
gather up a few things from around the cave. He paused and turned his head
to a dark corner of the cave, but resumed shortly (it was just another
parenthetical expression). "I suppose I could use getting out a bit...,"
he mused, stretching his wings a tad. "And they do have some fine
garnets and tourmaline nearby...," he added, for the benefit of his own
drive to actually get out of the cave and leave the warm bed of pyrope
and almandine (never, NEVER sleep on uvarovite, even if you're a dragon).
The others were making sure to keep out of his way during all this,
and jumped only slightly when he suddenly snorted, half-smiled, and
said, "Very well," with a quick nod, "Green Exile it is."
(Current end of story... certainly incomplete.)
Return to John's Home Page
