Month: November 2013

NaNoWriMo 17

I still feel relatively horrible, in fact this morning it seems worse.  The crud that my wife and I have had for some time seems to have settled into my lungs.  I did not write nearly as much as I had hoped, however I did manage to knock out roughly 2500 words yesterday morning.  This takes me over the 30,000 word threshold at 30,154 wordcount.  So I may not be leaps and bounds ahead like I had hoped but I am still very much on track.

Here is the story to date if anyone wants to catch up.  Once again completely unedited and raw.

1. Shadowed Stone
2. Little Giant Girl
3. Birthday Wishes
4. The Gifts
5. The Incursion
6. The Watch
7. Rough Landing
8. Dragon Bone
9. People of the Storm
10. The Lady
11. Cambridge Beneath
12. Prisoner of War
13. Woodbinding
14. Parting the Veil
15. People of the Earth
16. The Pack

17 – Brittagus Escape

As the days went on, Pico spent an increasing amount of time down in the catacombs beneath Astanax’s home.  The presence of the Inquisitors made it such that she did not feel she could risk exposing Astanax, Berrol and the Order of Merlin.  This was fine to her, as it gave her time to pour over the various tomes on this side of the gate.  They all dated back multiple centuries to a time she could not even imagine, and many were penned by Merlin himself.  Over these days often times she would find herself joined by little Berrol, who it turned out was extremely curious about all things related to the order.

Pico had never really been one for children.  When women passed around pictures of their kids she always felt like her skin was crawling and it evoked a fight or flight response.  There was something about Berrol however that she really liked.  He did not act like the snot nosed brat she was expecting.  Instead he was more than content to happily pour over the thick leather bound books beside her.  She even took to employing her in the search for information “Berrol, the wards on my side are weakening.  I need you to look for any information relating to their creation.”  The little boy nodded with bright eyes “Yes miss Pico”.

While they were working on this little side mission, Astanax was moving cautiously on his own mission.  Turns out all of what would be the United Kingdom is made up of a vast colony of human magic users called Brittagus.  Merlin forced this fate upon every magic user, and as a result they rebelled against him and his imposed exile.  Where Merlin wanted to free mankind from the burden of magic, the Magistrate Council seeks to control it in every aspect.  Their brutal inquisition is there to ensure that there can be no decent among the ranks of the magic users.

The Order of Merlin is almost dead, thanks to the hands of these Inquisitors singling out and assassinating each and every member.  Astanax said he was the last of the line, or at least the last he knew about.  Before the purge they had stopped congregating, in a failed attempt to protect the members.  This worked for a time, but the purge swept through the land and with it went every member but him.  His assumption was that they somehow were infiltrated and betrayed from within.  Luckily because of his place as steward of the archives, his involvement had been kept a closely guarded secret and as such many Order members died without revealing him.

All of this meant that as Astanax moved throughout Brittagus, he had to do so ever vigilant of the Inquisition.  The Magistrate new something was happening however, because the frequency of the random Inquisition “visits” had increased over the last few days.  Pico wondered if they were able to sense the border between realms being breached, much the same way as they were on the other side.  If so they were obviously not as sophisticated since they did not seem to be targeting this location directly.  They were however canvassing this neighborhood, and with that she was afraid to let her presence be seen by anyone.

Astanax had been trying to track down a source of dragon bone for her, to very little success.  It was apparently common knowledge that it had been a primary component of the wards, and as a result was greatly restricted.  From the way he talked about dragon bone, it sounded much like ivory is in her world.  There were all manner of uses for it, very few of them legitimate but since the dragons were so powerful the bone must be as well.  She thought it was humorous that people on this side ground up the bone to take as a tonic, much like they do with rhino horn.  Just because a people have actual magic does not apparently make them immune to baseless superstition.

To her left she heard a series of excited noises coming from Berrol who was laying on his belly thumbing through one of the big books.  In quick order came “Miss Pico! Miss Pico! I found something” the little boy was pointing at a picture on the page of the book.  As she crossed the room and knelt beside the book she thought to herself… maybe he did.  It was a diagram of the ward that she had seen before, but beneath it was a list list of all of the components and their purpose.  Beside dragonbone there was the following description.

Dragonbone is among the rarest materials in our world.  It is special because of its great strength and flexibility.  In my experiments it has been showing to carry the vibration of the matrix core to the surrounding area.  Dragonbone is merely a conduit and has no real effect on the success of the matrix, but instead allows for the signal to be transmitted clearly.  It should be stronger than the black iron that holds the pieces together and as such last for a much longer time.  Iron construction alone would have been shaken apart by the vibrations.

So that was the key to the mystery…  Dragonbone is simply really good at taking vibrations and transmitting them.  She was certain that if she had a reasonably sized sample she could simulate this effect with either a metal alloy or ceramics.  Maybe they didn’t actually need to find all those dragons.  She just needed to find one, and even then just a piece of it to take back and run tests on in her lab.  She knelt down and kissed the boys head “You did really good Berrol, this will help me save the wards.”

As she thumbed through the rest of the book it gave a detailed description of every part, its function in the design and its limitations.  With this book she felt reasonably certain that she could replicate one of the wards.  Now she just had to find some dragon bone, and a way back home.  She thought about the little grey box sitting in her pack.  Inside of it was a tiny ball with a red button on top.  It was originally going to be a handheld “analytical grenade” but after the recent events and the damage in the ward caused by her analytical designs, she halted work.  She had tossed it into her pack as a “only in an emergency” weapon if she encountered something she could not handle on this trip.

She could not use it here, at least not within the presence of Astanax and Berrol and preferably not within Brittagus at all.  If the Inquisition had detected a breach, they would most definitely detect one that was forcibly blown open.  To be honest she had no idea what the device would do if used on this side.  She theorized that it would push everyone in the surrounding vicinity of the blast to her world, but that was not a certain thing.  In order to use it she needed off of this island nation.  Hopefully Astanax could help with that, but she did not want to put him or Berrol into any more harm.

There was a sound echoing down the passageway of stone grating on stone, a sound she recognized as the entrance hatch to the archives being moved.  Always before Astanax had yelled down at her to let her know he was coming down.  This time it was complete silence.  Fearing the worst she gathered up berrol in her arm, stuffed the book into her pack and hid in one of the side chambers behind some large urns. She heard footsteps echoing down the hallway, hard soles against the hard stone.  As the shape passed the doorway without pause she could see that it was a man in dark robes, shrouded in a dark hooded cloak.  She could not make out anything of a face, and he held in front of him an illuminated staff.

Pico carefully and quietly slid out a 45 caliber pistol from her pack.  She did not know how it would work, but it would be better than nothing if she got into a pinch.  Suddenly the man cried out “I know you are down here, I bring word from Astanax” he said in a kind voice.  She remained silent and placed her hand over Berrol’s mouth to make sure he knew not to respond either.  The man stopped in the hallway near her door “I know you are afriad, but I mean neither you nor the boy any harm.  Astanax has been captured.”

Something snapped in Pico and she leapt out from behind the urns pistol drawn and pointed at the man.  “What do you mean he’s been captured?  Who are you, how do you know this?”  The man lowered his staff and spread his arms out in a gesture of surrender.  “It’s okay, my name is Karrek.  I am a member of the inquisition, but before that was a loyal member of the order.  I joined to pass information to the remaining order members for their safety.  Astanax inquired about dragon bone to the wrong merchant, an inquisition sympathizer.”  The man said with a sense of honesty about it.  “I briefly was allowed to speak with him as they took him to the grey tower for questioning.  He pleaded with me to get you and his son Berrol out of the city.”

Pico thought for a moment, that did seem like something Astanax would want if he ever got captured.  He had made her promise to watch after Berrol if anything happened to him when the Inquisition patrols increased.  She lowered the pistol and the man visibly relaxed.  “We don’t have much time, the Inquisition will be here soon to search this place.  I have a carriage parked in the alley near the back door.  I will get you to the waterfront and onto a boat away from here.”  He looked around nerviously “Do you have any gold?  I do not have money to pay your transport.”

It was at this that Berrol came from behind the urns and spoke “I know where papa keeps some” he said sheepishly.  The trio rushed upstairs and Karrek stood watch at the front door while Berrol lead Pico into another room.  There the boy moved aside a painting and set into the wall was a safe of sorts.  Berrol spoke a series of words in a language that pico did not understand, and there was an audible click noise as the door to the safe swung open.  Inside were several heavy bags of what she assumed were golden coins.  She dumped all of them into her pack and rushed back to meet Karrek.

Opening her bag and showing it to him “We have this?  Will this be enough.”  He nodded “more than enough, don’t offer them more than one of those bags”  He knew their time was almost up “We have to leave now” and herded them out the back door and into his black carriage that was emblazoned with the inquisition seal she had seen elsewhere on the patrols.  As they rounded the building and passed the front of the house a procession of black robed figures was walking down the sidewalk towards the front of the house.  She and Berrol ducked down in the carriage to make sure they were unseen and for his part Karrek proceeded as though nothing was strange.

Within a few minutes she could smell the familiar salty air she associated with ports.  Risking a peek out the window she noticed they were riding along a wharf of sorts.  They sped past hundreds of boats moored on either side of the dock.  She wondered where exactly Karrek was headed as many of these boats looked seaworthy and available for charter.  The rows of boats parted and were replaced by something slightly different.  It looked in every way a boat but instead of sitting down in the water it floated high above the docks, with a little ramp leading down to the wharf for boarding.  The best she could tell they were flying ships, like she had never seen before.  It was near one of these that the carriage finally stopped.

Karrek dismounted the carriage and moved around to the door.  He opened it helping Pico and Berrol out.  “These are skyships of the Valkore.  As a people they are dragon hunters.  If anyone will have your dragon bone, it will be them.  Charter one of these and ask them to take you to Hagengarde.  This will take you far away from the reach of the inquisition.”  She looked at him with frustration “But what about Astanax?”  he looked back with sad eyes “I will do what I can to free him, but I am not sure if that is even possible.  The grey tower is our most secure prison.  The important thing is for you to get Berrol to safety, it is what he wants more than anything.”  Still not happy about it she nodded in agreement.  She would protect Berrol, even if it meant bringing him back to her own world.

Karrek waited until they were walking up the gangplank to one of the skyships before travelling on.  The ship was rather nice, far nicer than she had expected based on the ramshackle nature of the wharf region.  As soon as they had reached the deck she was met by a woman and two male guards.  The way the woman carried herself she assumed she was the captain of the vessel.  “I’m Captain Barret, and what are you doing on my ship?” she said in a rather callous tone.  “I’m sorry for the intrusion, my name is Pico and this is Berrol” motioning to the boy hiding behind her.  The removed from her pack a small sack of gold coins and held it out to the captain “We need safe passage to Hagengarde”.

The captain took the sack, rattled it around a bit and then nodded grimly.  The Valkore had no love of Brittagus or the inquisition.  Barret would rather never have had to come here, but they needed supplies and with the Valkore in impending danger, this was the closest place with something to spare.  The captain looked over Pico “Do you know what you are getting yourself into?  Hagengarde and all of the Valkore villages for that matter are under attack by the forces of winter.”  Pico shook her head, she didn’t know at all what she was getting into.  “Any place is better than here….  also I need dragonbone and I hear Hagengarde is the place to go for that.”

The captain nodded grimly once again “Yes I suppose that is the case.  Alright you can find someplace to sit down below.  We have just resupplied and are about to get under way.”  With that the captain moved to the great ships wheel and Pico took Berrol under deck, finding a quiet corner to sit down in.  “Miss Pico, I’m scared…  I miss papa”  she ran her hand through the small childs hair “I know Berrol, I’m scared too”.  The boy leaned against her nuzzling in and sobbing silently.  She leaned back against the ships hull closing her eyes.  This was the first time in a long time she was really and truly scared.

NaNoWriMo 15

So another weekend, one which I hope I can push far ahead of the curve.  I’ve already written roughly 2000 words this morning.  My hope is that I  can do another 2000 or so tonight, then another 4000 tomorrow as well.  I really want to finish before thanksgiving madness sets in, though honestly this would be a good excuse for why I can’t stay around for too long after thanksgiving dinner.  Here is the story so far for anyone wanting to catch up.  Once again remember completely raw and unedited.

1. Shadowed Stone
2. Little Giant Girl
3. Birthday Wishes
4. The Gifts
5. The Incursion
6. The Watch
7. Rough Landing
8. Dragon Bone
9. People of the Storm
10. The Lady
11. Cambridge Beneath
12. Prisoner of War
13. Woodbinding
14. Parting the Veil

15 – People of the Earth

Torklah watched as the strange man thing thrashed against the leafcloth covering the mat he was laying on.  It had been three days since he had appeared delirious on the outskirts of the village.  The dim light of fireflies flickered around the hollowed shroomstalk home and bounced off of the strangers face.  He had collapsed upon reaching the village and had been in some sort of a sleeping sickness.  As shaman it fell to Torklah to watch over him, and either help him recover or ease his passing to the world beyond.

It was today that the man thing began to stir finally.  Torklah though this was a sign of him fighting the sleeping sickness.  He moved over to the man and smeared a smelly paste on his forhead.  It was a mixture his father and his father before him had taught him to prepare.  It was to draw out the sickness, capturing it in the smelly mixture.  “Morrow” the man thing murmured but this meant nothing to Torklah.  Maybe this was his name, or his tribe.

The shaman watched over him wondering where he had come from.  He looked elfen, but he did not know of any wilder that had them within their tribes.  It was nearing high shadow when the man began to jitter slightly.  Then came a violent series of convulsions and he was completely still again.  For a few moments he took no breathes and Torklah thought he may have passed on.  Then as quickly as the silence came it was broken by him sitting up on the mat and gasping for breathe.

The man looked around the room frantic, finally locking eyes on the thick grey-brown furred sasquatch shaman. “Where am I?  How did I get here?” the man pleaded.  Torklah thought about the questions for a moment before answering.  He was in fact speaking in Elfen, and while it was not as common to him as Saskalah, he could muddle through with it as the wildfae also spoke it.  Trying to speak slowly as not to distort the meaning he replied “You are in the village of the earth people, I am Torklah High Shaman.  As to how you got here, you stumbled here under a great sleeping sickness.”

The man thought on the Sasquatch’s words for a moment startling as though he had suddenly remembered something “Morrow! Where is Morrow, is she here too?” he said frighteningly peering around the corners of the shroom hut.  “You mentioned this Morrow in your sleeping sickness.  We found you at outskirts of village alone.”  The man tried to stand but ended up collapsing back onto the mat.  “I have to find my wife.”  The big sasquatch moved over to the mat and helped him to a nearby chair.  “What you need is more rest, you just beat the sickness.  Give your body time.”

The man leaned against the chair slightly resigned.  He was feeling more weak than he likely ever had, but he was thankful for the kindness the shaman was showing.  In his years he had very few meetings with Sasquatch, and had heard of the tribe of the earth but never actually met one.  He remembered his manners and that he had never actually introduced himself.  “Sorry for forgetting my manners,  I am Josah one of the Scions of Spring of the Elfen Court of Avalon.  Morrow is my wife, and we were split up.”

Josah began to remember how exactly he had gotten there.  He remembered the white fire that tore into him.  How it pushed him back into the shadowlands but set apart from the rest of the council.  He wandered trying to find his beloved Morrow but had the bad luck to stumble into a Vespid nest.  Stung he must have grown delirious on the poison and wandered into Sasquatch lands.  The meant he was somewhere to the north and west of the way willow.  How had he gotten thrown so far from where they were.  If he was here, he could only imagine where the others ended up.

Josah explained to the elder sasquatch the events of the farmhouse and how the queen had sacrificed herself in an attempt to save them.  “Your Queen was very brave to face death to save you.  She died with great honor.”  Josah flinched a bit at the words.  “She is not dead but transformed into crystal.”  After saying it he thought a few moments about just that.  Why was Baigan so determined to capture her, instead of simply kill her.  He needed her power for something.  Something inside his brain clicked as though opening a door.

“Torklah, does your tribe track the course of the seasons?  How many days do we have til the equinox?”  The elder shaman thought about this statement for a moment.  He had heard the term equinox before, and while his tribe did not have a term for that, he knew it meant the point at which the power of summer and winter are equal and with summer on the decline and winter on the rise.  He thought for a moment, then walked across the room to consult some glyphs marked onto the shroomstalk wall in red paint.  He gave a rather unsteady answer “There are thirteen high shadows, until the equinox” the word felt strange in his mouth.

“Thats it then, Baigan means to attack the summer wall at the point which summer begins the wane and winter rise.  He needs the power of both to do it., he needs them to be equal.”  He thought for moment not sure if the Sasquatch understood what the summer wall was.  “Torklah, do your people know where the summer wall is?  The great barrier of light that protects the north from the Trogjan.” Torklah thought for a moment, while he did not understand the name Summer Wall, he did know of a great river of sun in the north.  “Yes we know of it, the river of sun is north of our village.  Several days journey.”

“The man who attacked us at the Farmhouse, means to destroy the ‘river of sun’.  When he does this land will be invaded by the Trogjan.  They are a cruel empire of powerful warriors, with an insatiable desire for conquest.  No one in these lands will be safe.”  Trying to stand again Josah found it a bit easier and was able to support his own weight.  “If you can take me to the ‘river of sun’ I may be able to stop them.”  The great shaman could sense the weight and truth of his words.  He was a man who could be trusted, but it was a long journey to the river of sun.

The old sasquatch thought for a moment before speaking.  He knew as High Shaman, his word held weight and whatever decision he made was final.  He wanted to protect his people from the falling of the sun, but it was the time of harvest.  All of the strong warriors were needed to help bring in the large carrowmelons now bursting with fruit in the fields.  Each one could be as large as a brave, and it took multiple to bring each back to the village to be preserved for the winter months. Weighing the options he finally spoke “I cannot give you any of our warriors for your journey, but I will take you myself to the river of sun.”

Josah looked a bit relieved that the shaman was willing to help him, and he knew it would not be an easy journey for either of them.  “Thank you Torklah, you are a wise leader.”  The old shaman nodded slightly at the words.  “But now you and I must rest.  We will pack for our journey in the morning and leave as soon as it is high light.  I am old and need my rest, and you are not yet yourself”.  Josah nodded an agreement and leaned back on the mat sinking into the leafcloth once more.  Torklah moved slowly over to his own bed, reaching to the outcropping of shroomstalk beside it for a tiny whistle.  Giving it a short low trill he reclined back upon his bed as the myriad of fireflies that had lit the home flew out through the windows and into the night sky.

Torklah was true to his word and Josah was woken after what felt like only a few minutes of sleep.  He focused around the room trying to force himself to become cognisant.  He noticed that the old sasquatch had already gathered supplies and they were bound to two pack frames near the door of his hut.  “We should get started, it is a long ways to get to the river of sun.”  Torklah replied as Josah was lifting up off of the mat.  “We would normally take a kurz pulled wagon, but they are all needed for the harvest.  I am not old enough that I cannot walk it, and you look to have recovered from the poison.”  With that the elder shaman slung the larger of the two packs onto his back, and Josah followed his lead taking the other.  They walked through the village to the edge and began following a path northward towards the sunwall.

NaNoWriMo 14

Last night was a pretty crazy night.  I had to go eat dinner with my mother-in-law… and her boyfriend.  The awkward was strong with that one.  So as a result I got started on my wordcount super late, but still managed to knock out around 1900 words taking my total wordcount at this point to 24,297.  So I am now within spitting distance of the halfway point.  Still managing to drum up something to write about, even though I keep deviating from the path I had set aside as it feels right.  It feels a lot like Doctor Who, with fixed points but everything between them is wibbly wobby timey wimey.

Here is the story to date.  Just a friendly reminder no editing at all has been applied.  That will start probably in January.

1. Shadowed Stone
2. Little Giant Girl
3. Birthday Wishes
4. The Gifts
5. The Incursion
6. The Watch
7. Rough Landing
8. Dragon Bone
9. People of the Storm
10. The Lady
11. Cambridge Beneath
12. Prisoner of War
13. Woodbinding

14 – Parting the Veil

The sensation of passing through the portal was something that Pico was simply not prepared for.  It was like submerging yourself in a pool and then breaking the surface again.  There was a rush that came with the air pressure change, a burst of wind, and then a feeling of falling.  She had been unable to keep her balance when she broke through to the other side as she toppled over clumsily.  As she righted herself and climbed back to her feet she noticed that she was in a very similar circular room save for a few pretty significant changes.

Firstly there was no stone frame on this side, and even more shockingly no sign of the portal she had just come through.  Before stepping through she could clearly see the other side, but from this side there was absolutely no sign of anything even resembling a portal.  Slight difference number two, there was nothing that appeared to be a doorway leading out of the room.  The round stone dome appeared to be completely sealed.  Pico had done many foolish things in her time, but this may in fact be the worst.

She sat down on the cold stone floor trying to tell herself that she was not in fact now trapped in a sealed room in another dimension.  The two rooms had been connected at one point, that much was certain, but as she examined the floor around her she saw what appeared to be the remnants of the stone frame in the form of a thinly strewn line of rubble.  So someone or something had seemingly broken the frame, but the real question was why.  If they were trying to keep someone from travelling from her world they obviously had failed.  More likely it seemed to her that they were trying to keep someone from returning.

She laid down on her back and began examining the entirity of the room.  The shapes were significantly different from that of the dome on the other side, however after some time she started to piece together a sort of symbology.  She noticed there was this one shape that repeated itself at regular intervals around the room.  It was a sort of S shape with a bar intersecting it diagonally making it look like a really oddly formed dollar sign.  There was one place however where the symbol changed slightly.  In that location in the pattern it was upside down.

Pushing off the floor and getting to her feet again she moved over to the place with the upside down version of the symbol.  At first she tried to turn it but it seemed as though something was in the way.  Digging through her pack she uncovered a small flathead screwdriver, the kind that you would use to take apart delicate electronics.  She often found it handy if she got into a jam, and had used it to bypass more locks that she would ever admit.  She gently used the tip to work around the bevel at the base of the symbol.  She cleared a bit of debris that had built up over time, and when she tried the symbol again it began to turn every so slowly.

When she reached the upright position that the rest of the symbols were in there was a clicking sound and the room began to shake.  At first Pico thought a crack was forming along one of the walls, but as it grew she realized it was the edge of a doorway swinging inwards.  Within a few minutes the fissure was wide enough that she could pass through it.  She stowed the screwdriver and picked up her pack slinging it over her shoulder.  “That wasn’t so hard” she thought to herself as she inched towards the now open doorway.

When she passed through she saw a long hallway, that appeared to be a mirror of the one she had seen on the other side.  Similarly she passed along chambers on either side choked with dust and cobwebs but containing the same deep bookshelves as the ones underneath Cambridge.  The two bases had at one time or another been used by the same group.  She found the staircase in exactly the spot she would expect it and begin climbing up.  Wherever she was, she as now committed to the mission, as she had no real way back.

At the top of the stairs she saw a sort of hatch, and could see a thin line of light protruding around it.  She pushed up slightly testing it, and saw that she could push it open.  She slid it up and over to the side noticing that some sort of a rug was also covering the opening.  It did not take much to find the edge and roll it back as well.  She climbed up into what appeared to be a kitchen.  There was a great pot of something cooking on the stove and it smelt amazing.  Nothing in the kitchen looked modern, but instead something she would imagine as medieval.

The house appeared to be made from the same sturdy stone that the under chamber had been, leading to the appearance that the house itself was built at the same time as the other.  She had pulled herself out of the hatch and gotten to her feet when she heard a shuffling of feet off to the far side of the room.  Within a few moments a blond haired boy came bounding into the room making a direct line for a cupboard on the far side of the stove seemingly oblivious to the woman standing there.  He rifled through the cupboard for a moment producing what looked to be some sort of a sweet roll.

It was around this time that Pico must have made a sound, as the boy spun around quickly staring in her direction.  His happy face quickly turned to terror as his eyes widened to saucers.  At the top of his lungs he screamed and before Pico could react went running out of the room and from the sound of it upstairs.  “Shit” was all she could bring herself to say, there was really no place to hide other than to go back down into the chamber below.  However it was pretty certain that the houses owner knew that the chamber existed and would find her before long despite her best efforts.  No she thought, she would face whatever was to come and hope for the best.

There was a sound of footsteps rushing towards the kitchen door.  A similarly blond man wearing thick blue robes came rushing into the room.  He was holding out some sort of a staff in front of him, the tip of it emitting a bright green light.  “Who are you? Where did you come from?” the man yammered nervously all the while pointing the end of the staff in Pico’s direction.  “I came from a portal in the chamber below.” was the best explanation that she could muster.  She sheepishly raised her hands showing her empty palms “I come in peace?” she said with a slight shrug.

The look of surprise faded slightly from the mans face, but he no less continued pointing the staff at her.  “What do you mean you came from the other side?  The portal has been destroyed for decades.”  She shrugged again explaining “apparently it doesn’t work that way.  There was a giant stone frame with two crystals on our side.  I’ve come here in search of the Order of Merlin.”  With the utterance of “Merlin” the man’s expression changed drastically to a look of terror.  Looking around quickly he stammered “Never say that name.  Never say it again!”

“They have enchantments listening for that word, we can never say it.  We’ve created counter measures, but no place is safe.  Instead just say ‘The Order’.”  He furiously looked around listening for a few more tense seconds before relaxing again “Well… they would have arrived by now so I think we are safe.  I am Astanax the steward of the former order house.  There are not many of us left.”  She saw a look of concern flash across his face “I’m Pico, I come from the other side.  Over there we have a thing called the Watch, that guard the wards…  but they are failing.”

She explained how over the years the wards have continued to degrade in strength, and how her own analytical weapons had managed to damage them further.  “We need dragon bones to repair them.” she said without much thought to it.  With that the other started chuckling.  “So you ONLY need dragon bones?  You might as well ask for a diamond scepter or for a magical gold laying goose.  Dragons are extremely powerful beings, and even more so are extremely secretive.  It might take us years to find a single dragon, let alone the list of types that you claim to need.”

It was as though all the wind was let out of a balloon as Pico almost shrunk visibly under the news.  She was not sure exactly what she had expected.  To some extent she thought she would bumble over to this magical realm and ask to borrow a cup of dragon bone and be back by dinner.  Nothing was ever as easy as she made it out to be in her head, and now she just had to prepare a contingency plan. “Are there any dragon bones at all that we can get?” She mused looking at Astanax.

“I will have to make some inquiries, but in the mean time we have to get you into something less obvious.  You cannot be found to be from the other realm.  Merlin became a pariah when he built the wards, and inadvertently damned all magic users to exile here in this realm.  His opponents brutally hunted the members of his order, and now only a handful of us remain.”  Astanax leveled his eyes at her “You would be all the proof those same opponents would need to destroy my family.”

Astanax lead Pico upstairs to a large bedroom, as they went the young boy returned apparently changing from fear to amusement at the new guest.  “You should be able to find something here suiting you.  These wardrobes belonged to my wife.  She was…”  he trailed off but Pico could guess that she had passed on, and not in a pleasant way.  She thanked him for being so understanding.  “I will leave you to it, I have to go out now for fear I will be missed and they will get suspicious.”  There would be time for answers later, but she wanted to know who exactly “they” were.

Pico rifled through the wardrobe attempting to disturb as little as possible.  Before long she had found a rather lovely lavender gown.  She felt like she belonged in a period faire, but she supposed it did look nice on her.  Hopefully Astanax could help her find what she needed, and if not that a way back home.  She could only imagine how infuriated Farragut must be by now, but this was yet another in a long line of decisions she had made where it was simply easier to ask forgiveness.  As she sat down on the bed she wondered if maybe she had finally leapt one step too far.