Bungleau's Missy Hissy Adventures (all in one thread!)

[Wyvern]

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE:

Missy Hissy’s last stop in Brimloch Roon was at the shipyard, where she found a ship for sale and a job that needed doing. Paying her hard-earned gold for the ship, she promised to bring back any crab shells that she found. Perhaps they might be useful later.

As she left Brimloch Roon, she stared at the ship in front of her – her ship, freshly purchased. “Who would have thought I'd have a brand-new ship?” she asked herself as she walked around it, fingers caressing the polished wood.

“What’s this?” She stopped as her fingers found a spot that felt different, and on closer inspection, she could see that it had been patched and re-polished. “Looks like a sword nick,” she thought. Looking around, she spied more patches in the woodwork.

“Swords, arrows, even fire blasts,” she grumbled. “You’d think someone would take care of a boat properly, and keep the fires off of it.” She had half a mind to go back in to Brimloch Roon and confront Buckly about his “new” ship, but decided to talk to him when she got back.

Not trusting the seaworthiness of the ship, Missy slipped her wizard’s blade into its sheath, secured it, and dove beneath the waters of the Enchanted Sea.

What a pleasant surprise! The waters were quite salty, making them very buoyant and making it much easier for her to float and swim. As she glided through the crystal waves, she saw that the water itself seem to almost glow, making it easy to see in spite of the impending nightfall.

Swimming north along the coast, she soon came to a clearing. Walking ashore from the sea, she spied a group of centaurs. Approaching them afoot, as stealthily as could be while dripping seawater from her arms and armor, Missy asked one if there were a centaur named Argothius about.

“I be he,” said one centaur loudly, tramping up to approach her. Using his size to intimidate her, he glowered down. “And who be ye, looking for me?”

“Strumbold sent me,” she began.

“Strumbold?!?!? That no-good vagrant promised me a superior helm, and left me with this bit of tin and polish. Tell him I’ll pay him money when he gives me a decent helm. Better yet, I’ll write it on your corpse and send it back to ‘im myself!”

Grabbing a sword, Argothius began swinging at her while the other centaurs nocked arrows and let fly. Falling back on her ninja training, Missy dodged and weaved between the attacks as her wizard’s blade carved through the nighttime air and centaur body parts with equal ease. Moments later, the tiny glade grew quiet as the last of the centaurs fell and she began the task of collecting their goods, half-heartedly checking to see what was worth selling and what should be left for the next scavenger to come along. Strumbold’s helm was among the pieces, so she loaded that into her pack. The arrows and bows were of an inferior quality, so she left those behind.

Heading out, Missy soon left the small inlet where Brimloch Roon was located and headed out onto the open portion of the sea. A sense of movement stirred the waters behind her, and she saw a sea shark headed her way. Three of them, actually; she’d heard they rarely traveled alone, and the stories were apparently correct. Gritting her teeth and adjusting her body in the salty water, she prepared for her first serious underwater combat.

It was tricky, much harder than fighting on land. She could land a good blow, or perhaps two, on a shark, but then she’d be sinking below, and it would be out of reach. As she swam upward, she could get back in range, but it was a treacherous line she swam, trying to stay within range while trying to avoid the shark’s attacks. And the presence of the other sharks didn’t make it any easier!

Finally, she let herself fall into the depths as the sharks swam after her. As her feet settled on the silt-covered bottom of the sea, she finally had enough stability to attack and defend quickly. Her silver-plated blade flew in and out of the shadowy depths, leaving large cuts in the sharks and spilling their blood into the sea. If only she could hold her breath long enough, she’d be safe.

Soon, the last of the sharks lay dying on the ocean floor, and her ears detected a strange clicking sound. Looking around, she soon noticed a giant crab, much like the one she’d killed in the bottom of the Stout Mines, heading her way. The commotion and blood scent had brought it her way, and it was looking for dinner.

Missy had overheard in the tavern in Brimloch Roon that it was actually possible to pick the pocket of a crab and steal its shell, and since Buckly wanted shells, she figured she’d give it a try. Sheathing her blade, she tried once… twice… and then swam up to grab a fresh breath of air, for she’d been down for quite a while. The crab followed her, and on her fourth attempt, she was able to steal the shell right off its back. Grinning under the water, she pulled her blade back out and quickly put the crab to the bottom of the ocean, along with another crab that had come by and whose shell she also pickpocketed.

Her pack loaded, Missy decided to head back to Brimloch Roon to report her jobs complete, and to empty her pack and fill her purse. And to give Buckly a piece of her mind, too.

--------------------
Enjoy.

*B*
Minister, etc. (ret.)

[Wyvern]

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO:

“Three of the finest crab shells this side of Wyvern’s Glen,” Missy Hissy stated calmly as she eyed Buckly in the shipyard in Brimloch Roon.

“Aye, nice they are,” agreed Buckly. “And certainly some of the finest I’ve seen. Not even a nick or a scratch on ‘em! Well, here’s your gold.”

“Thanks,” said Missy, pocketing the small amount of gold. “And speaking of nicks and scratches…” she continued as her eyes narrowed into dark slits, the heat rising in her voice as it went lower.

Buckly looked up at her with a quick flash of recognition in his eyes. “Something wrong?” he asked with false bravado.

“You might say so,” said Missy as she took out a throwing knife, sighted on a rat near the door, and pegged its hindquarters to the wall by the door. “Ya see, you sold me a boat, brand new and ready to sail the Enchanted Sea.”

“And you got the finest ship available in all the Gael Serran,” said Buckly nervously. “There is none finer.”

Missy took out another throwing knife, this time clipping the wing off a glowfly that had wandered in. The knife stuck in the wall, two handswidths above the still wiggling rat. “The point is,” she said, “you sold me a new ship. Not a rebuilt ship, not a refurbished ship, not the finest ship available. You sold me a new ship. And you didn’t deliver.”

Buckly’s hands slowly dropped below the driftwood counter. She could sense his fingers looking for something.

She took out another throwing knife, hefting it in her fingers, feeling the sweet spot where it balanced. “When you sell me something, but deliver something else, that’s cheating.”

Buckly’s hands stopped moving, and some confidence seemed to rise back into his voice. “Cheating?”

She looked Buckly square in the eyes and spoke in a low, measured voice. “Cheating. And I don’t like being cheated.” Kill or be killed. She turned the knife around so the tip rested among her fingertips, ready for its journey through the air.

“So you now have a problem.” You don’t have to kill the cockroaches if you don’t see them. Peekaboo. I see you.

As Buckly pulled a wand out from behind the counter, Missy threw the knife, hard. It hit the wand in flight and a small piece of the wand, whittled off, flew up into the air, releasing its pent-up magical energy in a shower of sparks. It fell to the ground a piece of charcoal-gray ash. The remaining portion of the wand began sizzling, sparks starting to fly from it. Startled, Buckly looked at the wand, and then at Missy.

“I’d get rid of that wand quickly, before it explodes. They don’t take to that kindly,” suggested Missy.

Buckly quickly ran out the back door, throwing the wand into the Enchanted Sea. As he walked back in, a shower of water followed the explosion from the sea. Missy leaned against a barrel of ropes, cleaning her fingernails with another throwing knife. “Now,” she continued, “we were talking about cheating…”

Buckly grinned weakly. “So I take it you’re not completely happy with the ship. We do aim to please, and take our customers very…”

“Put a cork in it, Buckly,” snapped Missy. “You tried to take advantage of me, and I’m looking for one good reason to spare your life instead of leaving you as a message for all those who flaunt the rules of the merchants’ guild.” She stepped closer, stumbling over a marlinspike on the wooden floor. As she regained her balance, the black pearl assassin’s ring fell from her pouch onto the floor. As she scooped it up and deposited it back in its home, she saw Buckly trying to quickly avert his eyes.

“You know something about this?” she asked.

“Well… you know… not exactly…” he stammered.

“Cut the drama!” she snapped. “I’m really irritated about being taken for a ride, and unless you want to go for a ride to the depths of the Enchanted Sea, you’d better find a tongue in you… and fast!”

“Well,” said Buckly, “my father, who started this shipyard, used to tell me about his guardian angel, as he called her. A woman came in, fronted him money to start it up, and never came back to check on her investment. All that was she left was a single ivory feather; she said it would let him know when her investment was due.

“She never came back, even after twenty-some years, to collect. He died beholden to her, and that never sat right with any of us.

“About four years ago, a woman showed up here. She allowed as how she was here to collect on the debt, and sure enough, she showed me another feather, just like the first. I still have them around, on that wall-hanging there.”

Missy glanced at the wall. Two ivory feathers were laid on a polished piece of driftwood. Curiously, the feathers touched, tip to tip and base to base, but the middles bowed outward, and then back in. Almost like an arrow with two points on it.

Buckly continued. “She told me how much she wanted back from her investment, and I didn’t have that kind of gold. I begged for time to get it, but she’d have none of it. Then she offered me a choice: either pay up, give the shop to her, or hook her up with someone.”

“So what did you do?” asked Missy.

“I played tour guide,” snapped Buckly. “I asked her who she wanted to meet, and she told me she wanted to meet the head of the assassins’ guild. She didn’t tell me much beyond that, and I wasn’t asking, either. I was happy to be done with her, to tell you the truth. Something didn’t seem right.”

“I tire of your story,” said Missy. “Who did she meet with, and where did she go?”

“I hooked her up with an old pirate from around these parts, and he got her in. Sad thing was shortly after that, he drove his ship into the ground and lost his mind. Hasn’t been in a right mind since. And that’s all I know, I swear it.”

Missy looked at him through hardened eyes. “Then why did this ring bother you so?”

“The last time I saw her,” began Buckly, only to quickly stop as another throwing knife pulled his hat from his head and stuck it to the wall behind him.

“I like being lied to less than being cheated,” said Missy in a low voice. “I want the rest of what you know. Or I’ll have the rest of you.”

Buckly looked at her nervously, then continued. “After I sent her over to Talrik, she came in one last time. She was wearing a ring like that one – a big one, I remember, and I remember that it bore a striking resemblance to her. She told me we were even up, and when I tried to get a better look at the ring, she got a bit upset. Nearly split me in two, she did; I was a month in the back healing up before I could walk easily again. And seeing that ring again, it just brought it all back to me.”

Missy nodded. “I see. Well, I should hang you from the yardarm outside the shop as a lesson to those who would cheat the merchants’ guild. And I should collect the cost of my ship back from you. But I’ll settle for less… this time. Give me those two feathers, and I’ll forget just how upset this whole thing made me.”

“Take ‘em, take ‘em!” said Buckly. “’Tis a small price to pay to settle this.”

Collecting the feathers, Missy slid them into her traveling pouch and headed toward the armory, to sell the equipment she’d picked up and to ponder this new information.

--------------------
Enjoy.

*B*
Minister, etc. (ret.)

[Wyvern]

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE:

Missy Hissy left Brimloch Roon late in the afternoon with a foul taste on her lips. It wasn’t the ale at the inn that bothered her, but the thought that even with Scanthril dead, there was someone out there still who wanted her dead. Someone who opened the contract to kill her father, and who was still willing to pay for her death. Someone that she really wanted to kill first, just on general principles, but who?

While she muddled on that, she decided to track down the pirate for Miruth’s delivery. Along the western edge of the sea she saw a great ship beached on a low sandbar, and soon found the very pirate in question.

“Ar, I’ve always been wanting one of these,” he said when she gave him the hook.

She shrugged her head. It was his to begin with, if Miruth was to be believed, and the fact that he didn’t recognize it just reinforced his insanity.

On a lark, she asked him about treasure, since all pirates had buried treasure, according to popular rumors, and he might be insane enough to tell her where his was. To her surprise, he promised her a treasure map if she could just get him a longtooth hide from Skull Island, something else he’d always wanted.

Great. Now to find Skull Island… but wait! As Missy talked with Talrik, she was accosted by a pack of longtooths! Swinging her sword gently so as to avoid removing Talrik’s other hand, she dispatched them one at a time, smiling when she recognized that one of the pelts would be salvageable. Dispatching the last of the longtooths, she skinned one of the decaying corpses and presented Talrik with the still-warm hide.

In gratitude, and apparently without realizing all that had transpired in front of him, he accepted the hide “all the way from Skull Island” and gave her a map to buried treasure. Pity she wouldn’t be able to hunt for it immediately…

Heading off, she soon came across the fabled Skull Island and entered the gloomy structure, walking through the giant mouth underneath the cracked marble teeth, each as tall as her and then some. As she passed into the eerie demesne, she felt a shudder as if life and death had suddenly changed places.

In the bowels of the Castle she found a number of strange beasts and dispatched them, one after another, without much thought. Specters, werewolves, skeletons, zombies… all manner of unspeakable creatures thrived in the dark depths of the dismal dungeon. And all fell before her blade with equal abandon.

She soon came across a lich, G’ezzered Ra, who spoke of the cursed life he lived, after sacrificing all his family for immortal life. She thought again of her father, felled by the now-dead Scanthril, and a lump came to her throat. She’d find the mysterious person who held the contract on her father, and now her.

The lich sent her to look for an artifact in the depths of the dungeons. In her quest for that, she also found the two-headed giant that Damosh was looking for, a vampiress with an attitude, and a locked vault in a library that held promise. Unfortunately, it held little else, for once it was opened, it provided a very nice wizard’s robe, a handful of ankhs, and some small trinkets.

Not much, considering the protection that the lock offered. It was one of the most intricate ones she had ever seen, but for the treasure inside… it was like killing roaches with a blessed dragon arrow. Sure, it worked, but a simple club would do the trick and offer less chance of something going wrong.

“Perhaps someone else got here first and grabbed the good stuff,” she grumbled as she went back into the dungeon. Still, why would someone leave the ankhs? Small items with a high resale value were important for every thief and merchant. For the space and weight needed to carry a piece of leather armor, she could carry a dozen or more ankhs or gems, and easily reap ten times the profits.

Whistling gently, Missy continued her journey through Skull Castle, dispatching sharks and skeletons with equal abandon. Soon she found the relic that the lich had asked for and headed back to his chamber, to listen again to his words and the unholy orchestra that played for him.

The lich screeched in delight when she handed him the relic. “You’ve found it! Oh, may it contain enough energy to replenish me…” As she stepped back, the lich began a brief ritual, extracting the energy from the relic and channeling it into his staff. As she watched, a swirling mass began to form behind him, and an unholy head began to form.

“Did you think you were beyond my control?” bellowed the head. “There is no rest for you!”

The lich screamed and pleaded with his master. “But Lord Cet…”

Cet! This was the creature she’d heard about, half god and more, and rotten to the core. He seemed powerful enough, and to prove the point, he summoned a pair of demons to do his bidding while he took care of the recalcitrant lich.

In a flash of fire and smoke, Cet magically pulled the lich’s heart from his bony body. As he screamed in agony, G’ezzered Ra looked toward Missy. “Take this,” he cried. “It may yet help you, though it has not helped meeeeeee…..”

Cet and the broken lich faded away to nothing, while the demons began to advance.

Missy dispatched them both quickly. Amazing what a few well-placed dagger strokes could do…

Picking up the staff, she recognized it from a tale she had heard in a tavern once. It was a staff of death, a thing of terror that carried the power of a lich and more. Perhaps it would come in useful…

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Enjoy.

*B*
Minister, etc. (ret.)

[Wyvern]

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR:

As the tall oaks in the Gael Serran cast long shadows in the late afternoon sun, Missy Hissy stepped out of the bony jaw that marked the entrance to Skull Castle, former home to skeletons, zombies, vampires, and one pitiful lich. She tried to draw in a deep breath of fresh air, but the fetid stink of decomposing corpses flavored the breeze, nearly causing her to vomit.

“Pfauugh!” she swore, rinsing her mouth with wine and spitting it out. “If I never see another undead creature, it’ll be too soon.” Gathering her loot, she magically returned to Brimloch Roon, emptied her pack, and filled her purse. With what she’d been acquiring along the way, money was not an issue, but she liked to play it safer than otherwise.

She stopped at the guilds to report her progress.

“Here’s your shield, Strumbold,” she said. “He won’t be needin’ it any more…”

“Ye’ve done good,” said Strumbold. “Here’s a little something to express me thanks.”

Missy pocketed the gold. “Any other work that needs doing?”

“Aye, there is,” said Strumbold. “Them wizards have had one o’ their own go bad, and they can’t quite take care of the problem. They’ve come to us to put it to bed. ” He snickered. “Guess there’s not so much good in all that high-falutin’ magic anyways... If’n ye can take out this wizard, this Ram-a-Camel or whatever his name is, ye’ll help the clan out quite a bit. Not to mention putting those pointy-caps in a spot where they owe us...”

“I’ll see if I come up with anything,” said Missy. “D’ye think the wizard guildmaster would know any more details?”

Strumbold winced. “Old Say-Basta? He might, but ye’d have to ask ‘im. And that, I don’t wish on anyone.”

Missy nodded. “I’ve spoken with him once already. That was enough for three lifetimes for me. Still, I have to head back to talk to him again. Took care of a little something for him, and I need to get paid.

Strumbold sorted through a small chest of drawers behind the counter. Turning, he offered one piece of equipment that Missy hadn’t seen before. It was a small tube, hollow, and containing two pieces of honeycomb, long dried and cleaned but still glistening slightly. “’Ere,” he said. “These may come in handy later, to save your senses.” He explained their use briefly. “Whenever ye have to talk to Ears there, these little babies are worth their weight in gold. For the work ye’ve done, consider them a gift.”

Missy thanked him and went on to the Wizards’ Guild. As she walked in, Sebastio rose to greet her. “You’ve done it! The menace is no more...”

Missy reached into her pocket, one eye on the vociferous guildmaster, and slipped out the pieces of honeycomb. Rolling them between her fingers to warm them up, she formed one, and then the other, into a small rod. Raising her hand to her head as subtly as she could, she slipped the waxen rod into her ear canal, where it began to expand slightly from the greater warmth and slowly blocked out Sebastio’s words. Well, they weren’t blocked out completely, but the noise was definitely muffled.

Missy reached out a hand, several hours later. “Thanks for the gold,” she said. “Anything else that needs doing?”

She should have known better. Sebastio launched into another diatribe, this one about walking trees and his desire to catch a seedpod from one of them. Once he finally finished, she asked about the renegade wizard; curiously, Sebastio tried to avoid the subject, even when she asked him in the back room, the spot where only guild members were allowed. Apparently, they Guild didn’t want news going on about their difficult member. Wouldn’t do well to have a member flaunting guild authority so publicly...

When Missy finally left Brimloch Roon, she returned to the gates of Skull Castle and began her journey to find the leprechaun and the other items asked of her. After sloshing through acres of watery bliss, slaughtering nosy shark after nosy shark, she came across a clearing in the brush. As she stepped forward, she was beset by a pack of forest raptors, distant cousins to the one whose egg she had returned so long ago. As her blade danced a scarlet tango among the fierce forest mavens, she heard a new sound, one that made her stop for a moment.

“Tra-la, troo-loo,” cried the voice of a little man in green pants, shirt, and hat. Slicing open the last of the raptors, she set on in fast pursuit.

Chasing him around the island, she tried to get him to stop, but he was having little of it. Reaching into her magical bag of tricks, she prepared an incinerate spell and soon launched fire his way.

It stopped him, and as she prepared another, the leprechaun suddenly disappeared. Cursing, Missy searched around, beating the bushes and knocking down trees in her search for him. Nothing. Nothing, that is, except a couple more of the giant walking salads that populated the Gael Serran! Well, at least those incinerate spells could still prove useful...

...and as she was attacking the jungle lilies, she heard a voice ring out.

“Ye’ll never catch me,” taunted the leprechaun, and in frustration, Missy threw an incinerate blast out at him.

Unfortunately, she was in the middle of battle with the walking salads. And just as she’d practiced at the warrior guilds so many times, she sheathed her sword, took out and equipped a bow and an arrow, and let fly at the obnoxious gnome. As the scarlet red feathers began their flight, she realized that she was shooting with one of her enchanted dragon arrows. In fact, with her last dragon arrow – the quiver was empty!

As the leprechaun ran away again, Missy re-focused on the angry lilies, slicing off frond after frond. Her jaw set with determination, she slew the last of the lilies and stalked off to find the leprechaun with renewed vigor. She needed that last arrow... no questions asked.

She saw the leprechaun periodically, with her last dragon arrow still hanging out from his flanks, flapping in the breeze, but he always disappeared after she ran his way. Occasionally, she could get a shot in, but usually, he just vanished into thin air.

In her chase, she found the renegade wizard not far from where she’d left Talrik. It took two strokes to send him on to the next world. “Not exactly challenging,” she said as she stood over the decomposing wizard. “You’d have thought the wizards’ guild could have handled him.” Still, a job was a job, and she’d spend the gold just as easily.

Her anger heightened, and her resolve strengthened, she returned to the clearing where she’d first seen the leprechaun and hunted around. Soon enough, the little green critter came back, and this time she was ready. Scant moments later, he was a tiny green stain in the sand that was slowly fading, and she picked up her last dragon arrow along with the leprechaun’s staff. “That ought to be enough proof for Miruth,” she thought, and she set her course back to Brimloch Roon.

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Enjoy.

*B*
Minister, etc. (ret.)

[Bungleau]

CHAPTER 25: LOOSE ENDS

With a burst of magical energy, Missy Hissy reappeared in the Brimloch Roon town square, eyes squinting under the wizards’ perpetual daylight. It had been pitch black outside the town, and low though the light was, her eyes were not used to it. “I’ve got to find a better place to come back to,” she muttered to herself. “Wouldn’t want to get caught in someone’s trap out here...” As her eyes adjusted, she strolled down the main thoroughfare to Miruth’s pawn shop. “Might as well get rid of this staff quickly, and save the weight.”

As she entered the shop, Miruth looked up and acknowledged her. “You’re back, I see. Any news of the leprechaun? Or are you as feeble a questor as they say?”

Missy’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but I’ll tell you they’ve never seen my blade... or else someone paid to bring them back from the dead. In any case, you wanted proof of the leprechaun, and here’s his staff.”

Miruth looked at the staff, clucking as he did so. “Pretty impressive... a real leprechaun’s staff, including the family crest and personal sigil. Not bad... for a piece of wood pulled off a ship’s barnacle-encrusted bottom! This doesn’t prove anything to me, other than you’ve – glurp!”

Missy lifted him off the ground by his whiskers, bringing his eyes up even with hers. “Did I just misunderstand you? Are you saying you don’t believe me?” She dropped Miruth, and he fell to the floor with an ignoble splat, knocking against a display of magical powders.

“Harrumph... Well... ya see, these Leprechaun sticks are a ducat a dozen. They sell ‘em at county fairs, tourist hangouts, and pool halls, tryin’ to make people believe that they can grab some o’ the leprechaun’s luck. ‘Course, there ain’t no luck worth havin’ in there, so anything that happens, the guy sellin’ the stick credits the stick. Anything goes wrong, ‘e blames the buyer. And by the time the stick runs out of enchantments, the seller has long gone off to the next fair.

“Yep, Leprechaun sticks don’t prove nothin’... but a Leprechaun’s stone would. With those, you can feel the magic coursin’ through it. No one’s ever been able to duplicate that, or even come close. Find me one of those, and we’ll be talkin’.”

Missy glared at him. “Any more parts of this job that you’ve conveniently forgotten? My temper’s running hard these days, and I’m itching for a place to let it out.”

Miruth backed up hastily. “No, no, nothing else... as long as ye don’t come back with a piece of black pearl. That stuff’s powerful evil, and rumor has it that a piece of black pearl touching a leprechaun’s stone is what set off the Great Cataclysm years back.”

Missy fished the black pearl flying merwoman ring from her pocket. “You mean like this?”

Miruth stepped back, visibly shaken. “Where did you... never mind. Get rid of that – it’s evil, I tell ye. Ain’t no one who’s ever come to good from havin’ a piece of black pearl around.”

Missy stepped closer, making Miruth squirm nervously. “Well, this piece of pearl has been might unlucky for everyone else, but it’s got a secret waiting for me. Since you know so much about black pearl, can you tell me anything else about this?”

Miruth gulped nervously, his eyes flitting toward the door in hope of salvation. “Well...” he began.

“No stories!” snapped Missy. “Just truth – or I’ll make you regret that your parents ever met the first time.”

“There’s a legend of a strange mer-queen, told from grandparent to grandchild for generations,” continued Miruth. “I only know what was told to me, but in years gone by, there was a flying merwoman who was the patron and savior of the city of Collasium. She was a witch and more, casting spells for prosperity and protecting the city from invaders.”

“What else do the legends say?” asked Missy.

“Not much,” said Miruth. “In the Great Cataclysm, the city of Collasium was lost in the seas, and the sea around it was lost as well. No one’s heard anything in centuries, although more recent legends have the flying merwoman visiting damnation on those who fail to do their chores. But I always figured that was some parent’s attempt to manipulate their offspring.”

“Where can I find this Lost Sea?” asked Missy.

“No one’s seen it in centuries,” responded Miruth, “although some stories exist of tree-surfers who have crossed over the very trees that bring us shade and food. They claim to have seen the Lost Sea, but they tend to disappear quickly. Fall out of a tree and break a leg, and you’ll be sharing sleeping quarters with Anephas.”

With a *harrumph* Missy collected her gold and left the pawn shop, her thoughts fixed on the Lost Sea and the lost city it held.

[Bungleau]

Chapter 26: Elder Alder

Rain drizzled out from the clouds in the Gael Serran as Missy Hissy swam through the enchanted sea. She had taken her boat out several times, but found it sluggish to respond, and discovered she could move faster by simply swimming in the buoyant waters. She headed off east from Brimloch Roon, past where she had seen the leprechaun to his death, and then north. She encountered numerous sharks, crabs, and other sea creatures along the way, mere annoyances to slow her progress ever so slightly.

Openings in the thick brush which lined the sides of the sea were few and far between. She checked out each one she came to, disturbing the occasional raptor and once scuttling a turtle nest. The turtles had all hatched, though, so she was unable to bring any eggs back. As a food, turtle eggs were quite the delicacy, according to the innkeeper in Brimloch Roon.

She found a rough path that led to a vine-covered statue, and soon realized it was the fountain of Isis she had been looking for. Sadly, its water no longer ran sweet, but she marked the spot for Malakai at the temple.

Turning far north, she spied a sandy beach, and upon advancing, saw an old, withered tree in the distance. As she moved forward, the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Something wasn’t what it seemed, and she looked around for a raptor or some other beast. As she glanced back toward the bay she had left, a sudden voice caused her to jump into the air.

“Greetings.”

She whirled around, dagger in hand, to discover she was listening to the old tree. Noting that it didn’t appear to be able to move, she relaxed slightly and responded back, feeling a little silly talking to a piece of wood. “Hello.”

“I am Oakenmir, guardian of the forests. It is rare that someone comes around here. What brings you to these parts?”

Missy looked, trying to identify what part of the tree she should be talking to. “I’m looking for something,” she said. “A shrine, and a living tree.”

“We have many shrines here,” replied Oakenmir. “To Isis, to Anephas, to Aquata… they are many. Goddesses, gods, demigods… they are all respected. Not so the trees, though. The forests are ignored, considered callously by all who pass. Yet few who pass realize that the forest is more alive than they think.”

Alive! It suddenly struck Missy that she was talking to a living tree… the kind Sebastio was looking for. “Speaking of trees,” said Missy, “do you know where I might find some tree seeds?”

“Worry not about that,” said Oakenmir. “Seeds are the promise of life. I knew life once, back when I was a guardian of the Mavin. She of the water threatened me with fire unless I renounced my guardianship. I refused, and we battled for days. The sands around you were once lush with greenery; I am all that remains. And within a few centuries, all will be back where it was.”

“You renounced the guardianship?”

“Aye, I gave it up to her and her fire-breathing pet. Little good it did me, and she swore that she would continue my charge, that her pet would serve as guardian. All I have left now is time and patience… patience and time… and one last seed to start the spawning of a new generation. In another century, it will be ready to germinate. One can’t rush these things.”

Missy eyed the tree carefully. “Might I borrow that seed for a bit?” she asked. “Or can you tell me where I might find another?”

Oakenmir’s branches rustled with fury. “Borrow my seed? Would you lend your arm to another, waiting patiently for its return? Never have I heard such perfidious talk, not since she came to take my charge. Perhaps you should go, before I become angry.”

“Peace, Grandfather,” said Missy. “I meant no disrespect. Tell me more of she who took your charge. You mean the one to whom you gave the guardianship?”

“Yes, her,” replied Oakenmir, his branches rustling less angrily. “She of the water and air, she who saved and damned a city. It is because of her I have only one seed left. She insisted I was too old and feeble to fulfill my duties, and when I protested, brought the fourth element to bear against me. Water and air I can withstand, and earth is one with me, but fire… such terrible fires rained down from the heavens that my bark was horribly burned. I have been unable to bear fruit since then, and for decades, I wept. Two thousand years of nurturing and raising seeds, and to lose them in a week… it was horrid.

“Then, some two centuries ago, I discovered a seed that had somehow been protected from the ravaging fire. I have kept it carefully, exposing it to the warming sun and the nourishing rains. I have watched it grow, and it continues to expand. In another span, it will start to dry out, preparing its hard casing for the opening of new life.”

Missy felt strange. She had a mission, to recover a seed, but at what cost? The cost of ending a species? The peace she had been feeling since her first zenmaster training was wearing away, replaced by the hollow reactionless thoughts of the assassin. As she looked at the tree in the late afternoon sun, she thought she caught a glimpse of the seed.

Guilt began to creep over her at the thought of crushing the dreams of the once-proud tree, and then she began to think of what she had lost. “I think I know of her who caused you this grief,” said Missy. “I too am seeking her, and I would deliver retribution to her.”

“You?” said Oakenmir. “What would you have to do with the waterbird?”

“This,” said Missy, showing the black pearl ring. “Is this the one who harmed you?”

Oakenmir’s branches pulled back. “It is she! It is she! I thought never to see her again, and you have brought her image before me. This I do not like…”

“She stole your future,” said Missy. “She stole my past, and perhaps my future. I wish her nothing but harm and death, and if I can mete out justice on your behalf, I would be honored to do so.”

“Though I have long passed mortal need,” said Oakenmir, “I am still angry for the death she has caused. She slew my children, and I would see her pay a penance. What do you need from me to make her suffer?”

“Though it grieves me,” said Missy, “I believe that your last seed may help me to find her. I have been quested to find a seed from the living tree, and you are the most living tree I have ever encountered.”

Oakenmir rustled long and hard in the still air of the Gael Serran night, now lit by the waning moon. “What— what would you need my last child for?”

Missy swallowed. “Sebastio is doing work of some sort where he requires the seed. I do not know the nature of the work, but I can promise you that I will perish before I allow harm to come to your seed, and that if at all possible, I will bring your seed back. I have served as a ranger, learning the needs and will of the forest, and I desire that the forest continue to thrive.”

Oakenmir paused for a long time. The sun started to wake up in the east before he finally spoke again. “Great is my love for my child, and great is my hatred for she who did this to me. I have watched Sebastio for many years, and I have seen the works he has done. I also sense the love of nature within you. Though it pains me, I will grant you this gift, I will loan you my soul and my future. Be sure that you bring it back, or I will rob you of your present as well.”

A branch slowly uncurled, green with newness of life and festooned with a single solitary leaf. Hanging under it was a large seed with the image of a face in its shell.

“Take this. Pull gently, and you will not damage me. Take it to Sebastio, and find she who steals the future.”

Missy accepted the seed and tucked it carefully into her pack. “I will treat it and you with all honor and dignity,” she said.

Oakenmir, having let go his last seed, seemed to visibly droop. “For centuries, I feared I was at the end. Now I know it… and to help you track her down, I will tell you this. After she wrested fire onto me and took away my charge, I returned the favor, calling in the powers of earth to take away her demesne. I could not remove the water which gave her nourishment nor the air which gave her life, but I could take away that which was dear to her. I called upon the mountains to rise and the lands to fall, and buried her precious city beneath the waves of the sea. No one has seen it since, and that area has become known as the Lost Sea. I will open it for you, but it will not be easy. You must go through Anephas’ Shrine to get to her city; perhaps there, you may find her.”

“I will do this,” said Missy. “No matter what happens, you shall be avenged, should it take my last mortal breath.”

“Then leave me,” said Oakenmir. “Leave an old tree to his sadness and reminiscing, while I count the centuries until I too shall pass.”

Missy silently retreated from the glade, thoughts of her un-named opponent filling her head as she retreated to Brimloch Roon to fulfill her quests and start anew.

[Bungleau]

Chapter 27: Promises, promises

Missy Hissy looked up at the sun high in the Gael Serran sky. It had been there when she left Brimloch Roon for the seed, and as she returned, it was back again. A heavy weariness fell over her as she trudged toward the Wizard’s Guild and Sebastio, to complete his quest and to move onward. The door to the guild swung wide open as she entered, paused a moment, and slammed solidly once she was past.

“Ah, she who assists an aged sorcerer… have you returned with the seed of life, the promise of a thousand generations, the—“
“Cut it short, Sebastio,” she snarled. “I don’t have time for your prattle. I spoke with the living tree himself, and I’ve retrieved his last seed. It’s on loan to you, and I need to bring it back when you’re done.”

“Bring it back?” asked Sebastio. “Why, I hardly think that it—“

“Bring it back,” interrupted Missy, fixing him with a purposeful glare. “There are no other options that you want to talk about.”

Sebastio eyed her curiously. Few spoke to the guildmaster like this. Rumors abounded that he could transform people into something else, and useful as they were, he did nothing to discredit them. This one was nothing like the rest of the town. “As you wish,” he said finally. “I will do what I can, but I make no promises. Magic is a wondrous and amazing art… huh?“

He looked around, but could see no trace of her. Missy Hissy had disappeared.

Leaving the dust of Brimloch Roon behind her, Missy started swimming off to the northeast, past where she’d hunted down the miserable leprechaun. There was a channel of water there that she hadn’t had the time to investigate, and it sounded like where Oakenmir had talked about the Shrine of Anephas. Dispatching sharks and crabs, razor gills and barracudas, she made her way through the sea, onto the land, and into the water again.

As she emerged, she saw an expanse of desert in front of her. No grass, save an occasional clump, and little other vegetation. It was amazing, then, that the group of walking salads was surviving out there, and perhaps their dehydration helped save her. Powerful though her magic was, and powerful the Gezurite mind tricks seemed to be, when several of the lilies attacked her at the same time, she was in serious trouble.

After dispatching them and quaffing a great healing potion, she plodded onwards. The very sand seemed to suck the energy out of her, and the sun poured down its incessant rays.

Up ahead, she saw a strange beast. Half lion, half human, it stalked the desert like a chocolate cat with an attitude problem. And like any cat, it didn’t seem to think it had a problem.

It asked three questions of her, and while the first question was simple, the second – about who the savior of the land was – threw her for a loop. She answered incorrectly, and the Sphinx reared back to attack her.

“Don’t I get a lifeline?” she mumbled as she drew sword and dagger from their sheaths and sent the steel flying. Several minutes later, the Sphinx was no more, and neither were the handful of sea scoundrels who had interrupted her during the battle.

As she walked forward, she saw a huge stone construction, a giant testimony to times gone past. This must be the Shrine of Anephas that Oakenmir had mentioned, and that Sebastio had asked her to find a way to open. She looked around for a key, but found nothing; only a glistening ward hung in the entryway, its wizened features mocking her efforts to pass.

She realized that it looked a little like the lich’s staff of death, and upon bringing the staff out from her backpack, felt it growing warm. As she approached the ward, the staff grew warmer until it finally leapt out of her hands, smashing the ward as it did so. The resulting release of magical energy exploded, sending Missy flying backwards onto the sand with an ignoble *thump*.

Brushing the sand from her armor, she got back up and headed into the shrine.

[Bungleau]

Chapter 28: Sandy Beaches

As Missy Hissy flipped the familiar lever that closed one world and opened another, she thought about that fateful zenmaster lesson she’d had. Master Wu had meant to give her an idea of what the future could be like, and while she hadn’t been interested at the time, the experience with Oakenmir caused her to think more about it.

When the second door finally groaned open, Missy stepped forward gingerly in the dim light. The faint torches in the wall were flickering and sputtering, sure signs that they were on their last legs. “Of course, if Anephas died hundreds of years ago, who’s been changing the torches?”

With the walls barely illuminated, Missy stepped forward toward an illuminated room at the end of the corridor. As she approached it, she sensed that something wasn’t right, and discovered that the floor was missing in the room in front of the illuminated room. Searching, she found nothing that could help her out in crossing the floorless room, although she did spy a button of some sort on the opposite wall. She threw several knives at it, but it did no good. Try as she might, she couldn’t get the angle right to stick the button in place.

Tightening her pack, she stepped back several paces, got a running start, and leaped...

... across the gaping pit...
... to fall slightly short...
... and smash into the rough wall below like a ton of bricks...
... falling down into the pit...
... and landing with a bruising crash on a pile of bones, the force of her impact sending a skull skittling across the floor.

Sitting for a moment and catching her breath, she suddenly realized she’d forgotten one of the basics in the moon mage’s manual – creating a portal near the entrance. Had she remembered to do so, she could simply teleport her way back up. Now she was stuck until she could find a way out.

“Well, I don’t want to wait to be rescued,” she thought, as she looked at the bones around her. By a rough count, there were 13 skulls, from Felpurr to Oomphaz. She didn’t feel like adding a Rattkin skull to the mix, so she began looking around. As she thumped the walls, one sounded slightly different, and pushing it slid it open. She stepped forward to a fetid blast of air; no one had apparently come in here in centuries.

Missy moved forward through the hewn stone corridor, eyes adjusting to the fading torches. She thought about casting a torchlight spell of her own, but decided to hold off until she could find out what kinds of creatures inhabited this place. “No sense drawing too much attention to yourself,” she thought.

As she rounded another corner, she was suddenly attacked from behind by a pack of gold scorpions. Steel flying, she soon dispatched them and discovered they’d been lying in a dark corridor she’d missed. “Okay, time for the torch light,” she muttered. “I’d rather have things announce their presence than to hide.”

Turning, she investigated the corridor and at its end, found an iron chest. Opening it carefully, she discovered the Relic of Isis that Malakai had asked her to find. Secreting it in her cloak, she turned around and went onward.

Back in the room where she was attacked, there was one area where it felt like there should be a door, but there wasn’t. After carefully prodding and poking, she looked up into the darkness and spotted what seemed to be a ledge up there. She filed its location away for later. Perhaps it would be useful.

Stepping through the remaining doorway, she soon found herself approaching a room with gaping holes in the floor. It appeared to be the one she’d been trying to jump into, and as she approached, solid stone spikes suddenly drove down from the ceiling. “Glad I didn’t make the jump after all,” she thought. That would have been a rude awakening, for sure.

As she looked in, she spotted two doors. Unfortunately, both were closed, so she couldn’t just run into them. And the spikes seemed to come down in a regular pattern. Eying the ceiling carefully, she waited until the spikes between her and the closest door were starting their way up. Running quickly, she tried to squeeze between the door and the closest spike. If she had to spend time picking a lock, perhaps she’d be protected.

Fortunately, the door swung open at her approach, and she ducked in. As she moved forward, she slipped in a room covered in sand and fell into a pit. She saw buttons on all four walls, and gritting her teeth, pushed one. Suddenly a gold scorpion fell onto her head, and after slaying it, she looked up and saw a hole in the wall. “Perhaps a chute of some kind,” she thought. “I’ll try another one.”

She pressed another button and watched another scorpion scuttle out of the chute. Feeling irritated, she punched the button some two dozen times, each time summoning another scorpion. There were now so many she could almost climb on their backs to get out… except that she didn’t really want to get several dozen scorpion stings in her legs. No telling what that might do…

She slew the batch of scorpions (twenty-three by count), and for grins, punched the button some more. More scorpions came out, and she realized that she could probably spend as much time in here as she wanted, summoning and slaying, summoning and slaying. Still, it would probably get boring after a while, and in fact, she had to stifle a yawn. Pushing the other buttons released one last scorpion and then made a pillar in the center start to rise. Cursing, she jumped on, and rode the pillar up to the sandy room.

[Bungleau]

Chapter 29: Altared States

As Missy rode the stone pillar back up to the sandy room, she looked around. In the flickering torchlight, she could see faded paintings on the walls, pictures of an era gone by. Images told of Cet’s dark rise to power, and of the valiant battle of Ruhon, champion of the forests who had fallen to Cet’s evil power. The attempts of Longtooth, aged magician from eras long since forgotten, were also documented; Longtooth’s final moments, being pulled apart by demons from the darkest depths of the underworld, ran into the rise of Anephas.

Anephas, as she followed down the corridors, had a rise of his own – worship and prayer, favored by the gods, and bring light to the perpetual darkness. Until he, too, passed on, to the next world; only this time, he was able to bring Cet with him.

As Missy walked, she suddenly noticed a wispy image in the background of Cet and Anephas’ final battle. Brushing the cobwebs and dust from the wall, she saw a fish, high up in the air. Actually, upon closer examination, it appeared to be a woman with a fish’s tail… and she was flying! Slipping the black pearl ring from her pack, she compared it to the painting on the wall; quite similar in style, although she couldn’t quite make out a face in the painting.

“Hmmm…. Wonder what she’s doing there?” thought Missy. As an afterthought, she went back to the other paintings, and in each one, she could see the same ghostly image, the winged mermaid present at each champion’s final passing. She was behind the trees where Ruhon fell behind Shurugeon Castle, turned on and impaled by the stags he’d raised. She was in the mystic fog where Longtooth had made his final battle, in the early morning by Nymph Lake. “What is she, some kind of death leech?”

Pocketing the ring once again, she stared at the room in front of her. A black-and-white checkerboard pattern covered the floor, the brightness of the colors almost making her head ache. As she stepped onto the floor, it felt strange, and pulling her foot back, she watched as the floor suddenly fell out from beneath her! Staring into the darkness, the torchlight glinted off a pair of eyes far below. Not quite sure what it was, and certain there were no friends in this forsaken place, she stepped back and let loose a firestorm, then two. And finally three, when she heard, at long last, a heavy thump from a large body hitting the ground.

Inching forward, she could see that in some places, the dust on the floor was undisturbed, while others, like the piece of floor that had fallen beneath her feet, the dust was much lighter, and often smeared. She surmised that the less dusty tiles were ones that moved, brushed clean by unfortunates before her who had fallen to their death with the strange beast below. She stepped carefully, putting her feet gingerly onto the dusty tiles, and soon crossed safely over the room.

As she looked back into the room, torchlight danced off something shiny in the room beneath the room, offering a promise of treasure and hope. Creating a portal so she could return safely from the pit, she stepped gingerly down into the darkness until she slipped and fell into a pile of sand.

With her torchlight barely making a dent in the gloom beneath the fractured floor, she saw some gold and a shiny sword, almost like a rapier, left behind by the beast she had slain from above. As she walked her way around the room, a panel opened in one wall and she saw a small passageway illuminated in murky light from outside. Curious, and with one hand mentally on a teleport spell, she followed the path and soon found another sliding door, this one leading to a room with two temple guardians. As it turned out, they were also susceptible to the wrath of a firestorm, and after cleaning out that area, she continued down the path.

Soon she found a chest with a statue of two baboons linked together, seemingly playing a simian game of tug of war. Figuring it might be a valuable trinket in Brimloch Roon, she put it into her pack and continued on, finding herself in a long and rising corridor where it grew darker and darker.

One final step, and she suddenly found herself falling, down into more darkness. As she started reciting the teleport spell to bring herself to safety, she hit the bottom with a squishy *thump*.

Looking around, she realized that she’d been here before; she was in the alcove where she thought she’d seen a ledge high up. Now she knew where it led to.

Returning back through the sandy room and across the tile room, she began exploring more of the tomb. As she moved further in, she encountered more artwork, these with more people she recognized. D’Soto the champion was shown, falling in his final battle with Haleabus; the wispy flying mermaid was there as well, sailing above the crumbled walls of Shurugeon Castle. More artwork revealed the fall of Oakenmir, but as she studied it, Oakenmir appeared to be stronger, more cunning, and more vicious than she had thought. Images of villagers impaled on thorny tree branches dotted the landscape, and the wispy mermaid was much more solid – a major image, in fact.

Wiping the years of dust and dirt, Missy was disappointed to see that the mermaid’s face was, even in this large picture, blurred out. In fact, it looked like it was deliberately erased. Whoever the mermaid was, she didn’t want to be found, apparently.

Continuing on, Missy soon found more elaborately decorated rooms and a couple of scarabs hanging from the walls. Examining more closely, she saw that they moved, appearing to be switches; moving them, she examined the area and soon found her way to a pair of rooms, each with a switch.

Flipping one appeared to open a door for the other, and from one of them came the Darkened One, the creature that Sensei Asami was so concerned with.

As the Darkened One approach, Missy had to stifle a laugh. While he was certainly huge and looked to be a worthy opponent, he had apparently spent too much time underground. The simple opening of the door had apparently surprised him, and before he could respond, it tried to close again, squishing him between itself and the wall. He pushed it away, but it kept coming back, trying to close and squishing him in the process. It was like a giant game of pat-a-cake, only the Darkened One was getting patted.

With a grin on her face, Missy stood back and let loose elemental blast after elemental blast at the Darkened One. While steel would have been a better choice for combat, and fire wasn’t overly effective, it did the trick, and in short order, the Darkened One lay decomposing on the rough stone floor.

Moving forward, Missy soon found a doorway that led to a room where some monkeys came flying down a chute. Dispatching them, she continued on to a door that opened to reveal a chamber, filled with glistening black columns around the edges, a shallow pool in the middle, and a black stone altar against the far wall. As she stepped in to the strangely illuminated room, the black columns suddenly started to rise, revealing mummies and scarab priests that were some final kind of protector.

Running forward to engage each in close combat, she soon reduced them to piles of dust, small baubles and ankhs falling with their brittle bones. She looked around; this was the most ornately decorated room by far, and to her surprise, she recognized one more person in the paintings; the angel Kerah, flying high above the Gael Serran and surveying the wondrous things that Anephas had done.

One chest yielded a statue of Kerah, and as she placed it on the black altar, there was a rumble behind her. Turning, she saw the water in the pool start to froth, and suddenly the bottom of the pool began to rise. Looking up, she could see the reflection of water on the ceiling.

The ceiling? Water fell, didn’t it? That’s how water mills operated, and rivers flowed… or so she thought. As the giant pillar rumbled up, it stopped for a moment, and began to descend. Running up, Missy jumped on it and rode up to an underwater chamber. Looking around, she spied a lever on the wall and flipped it, watching a doorway above start to open up. With her lungs starting to burn inside, she swam to the opening door and began to head up, eager to see what lay on the other side.

[Bungleau]

Chapter 30: Of Palaces and Prisons

Missy Hissy grabbed the edges of the still-opening door and hurled herself upward. Her ears pounded from the suddenly increased water pressure, and she knew that solace lay in finding a source of air. She followed the trace bubbles that escaped from her lips. Natural laws couldn’t be confused enough, and she knew they would head toward daylight, or whatever passed for it. Kicking strongly and debating the wisdom of swimming in a full set of armor, she continued upward.

Missy broke the water’s surface into a small room, much like a temple or a throne room. Taking several deep breaths to replenish her tortured lungs, she looked around. The room was beautiful, with black and white pearl pillars gleaming translucently and gold highlights reflecting the flickering fires. Beautiful windows surrounded the room on all sides, allowing the light to filter in. As she looked around, the place was deserted, except for a gentle humming coming from the high-back seashell chair on the other side. The melody was an engaging song, brimming with hope and promise.

Missy stepped closer, and the chair spun around. Kerah, guardian angel, greeted her and smiled. “Welcome below the sea,” she intoned. “I’m pleased to see you. There is much still to do.”

Missy approached. “Wha- what are you doing down here? Where is this place? What’s going on?”

Kerah nodded. “You should have many questions. This place is my solace, my refuge. When Anephas sacrificed all, I kept this place as a way to remember. But Cet grows stronger, and there is much yet to be done. Anephas can be brought back to life in the pyramid below if you can bring the light of the gods to his burnt body. Then you can take this teleport to Cet’s Tomb, where he can put the dark lord down forever.”

Missy looked around. “I’m not so sure I’m up for this. I mean, where do mortals fit into the gods’ plans? I thought the gods merely toyed with us, creating problems and challenges in our lives. I’ve never heard of a god relying on a mortal for anything, or needing a mortal’s help.”

Kerah’s face grew long. “’Tis true, the gods usually stay away from mortals. There are yet some times, however, when the works of a mortal can sway the fates the gods have planned. Anephas did so centuries ago, and many of the champions who have preceded you have also played in the realm of the gods. The gods do not control as much of life as the priests would have you believe. And your help is now needed.”

Missy stared at Kerah for several long minutes. Her mind raced. Anephas had been a mortal? A mortal who battled a god to a stalemate? But he was only a magician, or so it seemed. What more could be out there for her? What more could she lose? Her father, her mother, her childhood… there was little else to be taken from her. “Okay, I’m in. But if Anephas couldn’t defeat Cet before, why should he succeed now?”

Kerah smiled and seemed relieved. “Before, Anepahs was a champion, but a magical champion. He knew little of battle and war, and the best battle he could plan was a tragic draw. You know more of arms and militia than most, and with your help, there can be no other result. Success will be ours…” Kerah seemed to drift mentally, picturing the results of a glorious battle with Cet. “Besides,” she said, coming back, “if Anephas leaves this shrine, Cet will be able to leave as well. You can enter Cet’s tomb, open the other teleporter, and allow Anephas to enter undetected.”

Missy looked puzzled. “But to get up here, doesn’t he have to leave the shrine?”

Kerah’s eyes flashed an ebony glare. “My magic can keep him protected in here for a few minutes in my element. By the time Anephas comes here, there will be no time for Cet to do anything. Just start spinning the teleporter there, and the rest will come.”

“Okey-dokey.” Missy walked over to the teleporter, put a hand on it, and started it spinning. As it rotated, it seemed off-balance, and by the time it rotated for the third time, the ancient stone spun off its balance and shattered on the floor. “Oops.” She looked back at Kerah. “Sorry about that.”

Kerah seemed to be counting numbers, a strange practice in most cases.

“Hey,” Missy said. “This obelisk thing fell out of the spinny piece. Maybe it’s still usable.”

Kerah finally hissed through clenched teeth. “Take it and go. Perhaps it can still wake Anephas. Perhaps all is not completely lost here. Just leave!”

Missy looked around. “Leave where?” Then she saw a fish swim past one of the windows. She walked over to window and saw that it was not a window, but a magical wall of air holding the water out. Taking a deep breath, she walked through the wall of water and left.

Following her bubbles again, she made her way to the surface. As she bobbed lightly in the warm water, she saw a beach in the distance. As she reached it, she saw numerous small footprints throughout the sand. Strange that they weren’t washed away by the tides, and stranger still that no other tracks, human, animal, or humanoid, sullied the sand. At the end of the clearing, she found a treasure chest, and opening it, found a green opal stone in a necklace. She recognized it, a clover stone, and realized that it must be the leprechaun’s treasure. Pity she’d slain him before. At least now, Miruth might put a cork in his mouth about it.

Creating another portal, Missy teleported back to Brimloch Roon to unload some of her adventuring acquisitions and to have one more talk about leprechauns…