Chapter 2: Confrontation
NOTE: "Confrontation" takes place two weeks after the events in "Awakening".
Almost unexpectedly over the crest of a hill, Ekfansel arose on the horizon. Tammoh paused, awestruck by the sight: this was the first time Tammoh had been near Ekfansel in three years, but the city looked as beautiful as the day he left. Tammoh had been lost in thought, trying to decide how exectly he should approach the Council of Elders, and hadn't realized just how far he had walked since morning. The town was more lively than he had remembered; even from a distance, Tammoh could hear noise from the city square. Judging from the position of the sun and his distance from the city, Tammoh decided he'd arrive by about 3 in the afternoon. He'd be having a late lunch, but it would be a real, home-cooked (or store-cooked, for that matter) meal, rather than the small game over a tiny fire he had been eating for a week.
Ekfansel was somewhat unique as a Magic City, being one of the only ones that was founded near a river. This, of course, made it a rather accessable, and so Ekfansel was a Trade City as well. Snice Ekfansel was a Magic City, as well as being the location of the Wizard's Council of Elders, most of the trade in town was various magic spells, potions, or other items that could be used by wizards and sorcerers. There were, of course, a fair number of people with little-to-no magical ability trading food and other trinkets, putting on shows to amuse those passing through, conning fools with fake "magical" artifacts, or running the city services. Most of the real magic users, though, visited the town square only through necessity, instead prefering to gather in one of the many hidden places in town known only to the magical elite.
Tammoh entered the city square somewhat nervously. Still unsure what he would say to the Council, or even how he would gain an audience, Tammoh headed straight for one of the open-air grills and got some lunch. The man who sold the food claimed it was chicken, but Tammoh wasn't sure. Still, whatever it was, it tasted good, and made Tammoh's growling stomach quite happy indeed.
Tammoh resumed his tour of the town square, and found a young woman peddling small money pouches. To most people, moneybags are for holding money. To Tammoh, it was just another way to store the various physical components of his spells. He had grown tired of continually sewing new pockets into his cloak, so recently, he had been purchasing money pouches and sewing the drawstrings into his cloak. It was a little more expensive, and the pouches couldn't hold large objects (Tammoh still needed pockets for that), but for small objects which had to be kept separate, the money pouches worked quite well. Tammoh traded some rabbit skin from his breakfast for two respectably sized pouches, and continued browsing the marketplace.
A little further into the marketplace, he came across one of the few respectable-looking wizards with a shop open. There are very few items wizards will purchase only from other wizards, but spellbooks are one of these items. Any wizard expecting to survive in battle needs a spellbook that will hold up to the forces of nature and the stresses of battle and repeated use. And regular people just do not put the kind of care into spellbook construction as a wizard would. One day, Tammoh decided, he would make his own spellbook, once he had acquired the skills necessary. But today, he needed a larger spellbook. The one he had was adequate for an apprentice, but Tammoh was on his own now, and had learned enough spells that his spellbook was nearly full. It would be a bad thing to discover a new spell and have nowhere to write it. Tammoh selected a modestly sized spellbook, perhaps with three or four times as many pages as his own, and slightly taller and wider as well.
"Ten gold pieces," the wizard offered. Tammoh frowned. "It's waterproof. I guarantee it," offered the wizard. Tammoh's staff throbbed slightly. Tammoh looked at his staff in surprise, and then at the wizard to see if he saw anything. The wizard sees the look of surprise on Tammoh's face and assumes it's about the price. "Yes," Tammoh said, "and that is what my cloak is for. I'll give you six for it." The wizard frowned. "Nine, and I'll flame-proof it." "Seven," Tammoh offered, "flame-proof it, and I'll throw in some fresh rabbit skin you can use to make a book cover for another customer." The wizard said something and passed his hand over the spellbook, which glowed red for a few seconds. "Done, and done," he said, handing the spellbook to Tammoh. Tammoh's staff vibrated again, and Tammoh begain to worry. "I ... just remembered ... I have to be somewhere ... right now," he said, as he dropped the spellbook on the table and backed away. "Whatsa matter?" the wizard asked, "You just looked like you saw a ghost!" Tammoh stopped for a second, then spun around and walked quickly away from the wizard."Hey!" the wizard called after Tammoh. "Hey! Come back here! We had a deal!" But Tammoh was already out of earshot, having walked into an alleyway behind the marketplace.
Tammoh slumped to the ground and leaned against a wall. "What's wrong with me?" he said out loud. "It's not like me to lose my nerve like that." Tammoh looked at his staff, which appeared slightly more polished now. "And just what is up with you?" he asked, staring at the staff.
"Tammoh?" called a voice from the edge of the alley. Tammoh instantly sprung to his feet and faced the voice. Shadows from the buildings obscured his face, but the form looked familiar, and the voice was definately familiar. He took a step towards the person, and readied his weapon, just in case.
The figure stepped forward out of the shadow. It was an average-height human male, just slighly taller than Tammoh. He was dressed well for a wizard - well enough that he barely looked like a wizard at all. His hair was barely shoulder-length, and his face clean-shaven. Tammoh tilted his head, then smiled and ran towards the man with his arms wide open. "Artkit!" Tammoh exclaimed, as the two embraced. "Artkit! How are you doing? It's been too long since I've seen you!"
Artkit Hallen was one of Tammoh's few good friends. The two met ten years earlier after Tammoh and his master moved to just outside Ekfansel, and were inseperable until Tammoh left the city to explore the world. Artkit was supposed to have been in training to be a wizard, but had the fatal flaw of being attracted to any woman with breasts large enough to not be flat-chested. As a result, he spent more time chasing down women (and getting rejected) than studying. But this is why Tammoh loved being around Artkit. If there was ever a good time to be had, Artkit was right in the middle of it.
"I've been well, Tammoh," Artkit said. "And from the looks of it, so are you." Tammoh nodded. "Yeah. Things seem to be going pretty well --" Artkit smacked Tammoh's head, and imitated Tammoh's Master's voice: "Seems to be? Either things are going well, or they aren't. There is no in-between. I know your master taught you better than that." Tammoh and Artkit both smiled. Artkit turned around and motioned towards a tavern named "The Saucy Bottom". "Come, let us drink, and catch up! Just looking at you, I can tell you've quite a story to tell." Artkit took off towards the tavern, and Tammoh, rubbing his head where Artkit had hit it, ran to catch up.
Tammoh entered the Saucy Bottom. It was a respectable sized tavern like the Shining Sword in Kingston; it had a bar and seating area with tables on the ground floor, and rooms for rent upstairs. Tammoh looked around for Artkit, and found him already seated at a table at the far side of the room near the bar. Artkit couldn't have been in the tavern for more than ten seconds and already, his lap was being warmed by a rather voluptuous woman whose outfit left nothing to the imagination. Tammoh smiled and shook his head as he walked to the table. He always knew Artkit was quick when it came to women, but this had to be a record, even for him.
Tammoh cleared his throat. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important," he said, as he sat down across from Artkit. The woman stood up, adjusting her outfit, and smiled at Tammoh. "I was just...telling your friend here what the special of the day was," she said, winking. "Yes, I'm sure you were," Tammoh said, "But, just between you and me, I hope the special of the day isn't turkey, becuase Artkit's turkey baster runs a bit dry after a few squeezes." The woman eyes Tammoh up and down as Artkit chuckled. "Yeah," he said, "as if you're any better with that six foot rod of yours." The waitress laughed. "Boys, I'm needed elsewhere. If you need me, you know how to get me," she said, walking over to assist another customer.
"Your wit's improved, Tammoh," Artkit said. "You gotten yourself laid yet? That was always your problem. You were always a bit stiff." Tammoh shook his head and rubbed his forehead. "That is a far more interesting question that you might suspect." Artkit smiled. "And, speaking of rods, Tammoh, where'd you get that staff? It looks a heck of a lot nicer than the one you got from your master."
Tammoh looked at his staff. Sometime between when Tammoh was in the alley and now, it had become slightly more polished. "Well," Tammoh said, with a look of amusment on his face, "you might find this hard to believe, but it's the same staff I left here with." Artkit looked at Tammoh, with narrowed eyes. "You're kidding, right? I know you wouldn't waste all that time polishing that thing when you could be doing something remotely educational."
Tammoh shook his head. "I didn't polish it. It polished itself. It wasn't like this two weeks ago." Artkit clapped his hands. "Well, then! You've obviously got a story to tell! Let's hear it! Make it good, and your drink's on me. What'dya want, anyways?" Tammoh laughed. "I'd go for the special of the day," Tammoh joked, "but it seems you've already taken it, and I already had a bite to eat. I'll just go for some hot cider."
Artkit looked at Tammoh like Tammoh had just gone insane. "I'm here on business," Tammoh clarified. "I must speek with The Council. And though I very much would enjoy a drink right now, I need to be able to think." Artkit's face dropped from a smile to near-shock. "Damn," he said. "I thought you had a story. Now I KNOW you have a story. First the staff, and now you want to talk to The Council?" Artkit waved down the waitress and continued, "I'd be very put out if you didn't tell me what's going on."
"It all begain when I arrived in Kingston about a month ago," Tammoh said, as he began to retell the events of the past month to Artkit. Several rounds of drinks later, Tammoh finished up his story with his entrance to Ekfansel. "I was looking at some spellbooks that some wizard merchant was selling, when the staff started acting weird. So I left him and went into that ally to try and figure it out when you ran into me And, well, here we are."
Artkit looked thoughtful for a second. "This merchant," he said to Tammoh, "what did he look like? Brown hair, a little longer than mine, green eyes, kind of chubby, and a disposition for flame-retartancy?" Tammoh nodded. "Ah, so he's selling spellbooks this week?" Artkit asked. "Last week, it was flame-retardant pouches, and the week before, waterproof boots that were supposed to let you walk on water. A bunch of us think he's ripping everyone off, but every time someone tries to do something about him, he always manages to find some "loyal" customer to praise his virtues. Your business with him is, of course, your own, but just between you and me, I don't trust him half as far as I could throw him. If you ask me, that staff of yours just did you a favor."
Tammoh looked outside to try and determine the time, but then he remembered that the sun had set sometime during the "shrimpy" smashing fight. "So, anyways," he said to Artkit, "I'm in town to speak with The Council. Something, either this staff, or my Master's spirit, charged me with this quest."
"Well, Tammoh," Artkit said, his voice slured due to his inebriation, "I can help you out on that one. I work with The Council. Well, not really with. I work for them. Kinda. I, uh, well, I know you're gonna laugh, but I make deliveries for them. Kinda like your pal, uh, whasshisname? Toller? Teller? Yeah, Teller! Man, I wish I could be him! Stuck in a body of a hot chick! Yeah, that would be so neat, huh?" Tammoh, although not the religious type, said a slient prayer: "God, forgive my friend, for he does not know what Blayne would do to him if she found out what he just said."
"Artkit," Tammoh sighed, "Teller was in Blayne's body for, what, twenty days? He was unconcious for eighteen of them." Artkit wasn't listening. "But yeah, that's what he told you. But I betcha twenty gold he was just lying there playing with--" Tammoh smacked Artkit. "Hey! Whatdcha do that for?" Tammoh sighed again. "Did I mention that Blayne is good with knives?" Artkit nodded. "Did I mention that Blayne is VERY good with knives?" Artkit looked worried. "How very good?" Tammoh smiled. "Let me put it to you this way. If she heard what you just said, she would very likely, ah, perform surgery --" Tammoh grabbed his staff for effect. "And stuff it down your throat before you had a chance to go into shock." Artkit closed his mouth for a second, and started talking silently to himself, moving his hand around, pointing at the air. It was obvious he was trying to figure out the mechanics. "You're kidding, right?" he asked. Tammoh shook his head "No." Artkit instantly sobered up. "Uh, ok," he stammered. "I'll just, uh, forget that part of your story. So, where were we?" "We were in the present," Tammoh said, "talking about how you can help get an audience with The Council."
"Ah, right. You go find a room for the night. I'll go drop some hints with The Council that they should talk to you," Artkit said. "You'll know if they contact you. Otherwise, find me tomorrow. I can't promise anything, though." Tammoh nodded and smiled. "Thanks, Artkit. You're a lifesaver." Artkit shook his head. "Don't thank me yet. The Council's been a bit edgy lately. Speaking with them might turn out to be a mistake." Artkit stood up. "It's getting late, so I better hurry," he said. "I'll see you later."
Artkit ran out the door as Tammoh stood up. Looking around, Tammoh noticed that most of the others who had been in the bar had left. With the exception of a few stragglers, the only other people in the bar were the barkeep and the woman. Tammoh decided that it would be a good idea to get some sleep. He did not know when the Council would be likely to respond to his request for an audience, and the last thing he wanted was to be too tired to think clearly when they summoned him.
Tammoh walked over to the barkeep and asked about getting a room. The barkeep studied Tammoh before responding, "How long do you want it for?"
"How much will it cost for a week?" Tammoh asked. "I do not think I will be here longer than that."
The barkeep studied Tammoh again. "That fellow you were talking with today. How well do you know him?" Tammoh looked at the barkeep, concerned. The barkeep looked to be on edge. "He is a good friend of mine. Why do you ask? Has he done something ... regretable?"
The barkeep let out a laugh and smiled. "Every time he comes in here, he orders considerable to drink, and always manages to run out without paying. Now, when I manage to catch him, he always pays up, plus a little extra for my troubles." Tammoh shook his head in disgrace. Yup. That sounded just like Artkit. "Point is," the barkeep continued, "he's long overdue. Something's wrong. Now, if he's forgotten, that's fine, he'll pay when I catch him. But if there's something else wrong, I'd like to know about it." A drunk sitting on the bar several seats from where Tammoh was standing collapsed and knocked his drink over, rolling it towards Tammoh. The barkeep sighed, and continued, "Because it's starting to get to be that time of the month, and, well, things are gonna roll besides glasses unless pays. Now, I like your friend. I really do. When he gets the crowd going, they all buy a lot more than usual. But I'm in a bit of a fix right now, and, well..."
Tammoh nodded. "Artkit's always been a bit irresponsible, but his heart is in the right place. Next time I see him, I'll remind him to pay you a visit." The barkeep took a deep breath and breathed a sigh of relief. "You do that, sir, and you can have a room for as long as you are in town. I'll have Lucy show you our finest room."
The barkeep whistled and motioned the woman who had been "assisting" Artkit to come to the bar. She walked up to the bar, standing next to Tammoh, and leaned towards the barkeep, who whispered something into her ear. Her eyes opened wide, and she glanced at Tammoh, and then back at the barkeep. "Daddy," she said, "are you sure? That's an expensive room!" The barkeep nodded his head silently. She looked at Tammoh again. "Well, I dunno what you said to get on my father's good side, but I'm supposed to show you our finest." Lucy turned towards the stairs and motioned Tammoh to follow her. "So, if you'll just follow me, I'll take you to your room."
Tammoh followed Lucy up the stairs and she led him to a room at the end of the hall. "This room is reserved for special guests. I dunno why you're getting this room, but here you are." She unlocked the door and opened it, and Tammoh followed her in. He looked around, awestruck by the size of the room. "I don't deserve something this large," Tammoh stammered. He wasn't sure how a room of this size could fit within the space he thuoght the tavern occupied. Lucy laughed. "Yeah, well, if you ask me, my father's being uncharacteristically generous, but, if he says he knows what he's doing, I won't argue." She handed Tammoh a key, presumably for the room, and turned to leave." Breakfast is at 8 am. If you're not there, you don't eat. I'll see you later, I suppose." Tammoh started to say "good night", but Lucy had already left the room and closed the door.
Tammoh locked the door to the room, and took in the view again. There was a bed large enough for three people in the far left corner, and windows in the middle of the left, right, and back walls. The room had a large closet on the front wall opposite the bed, endtables on both sides of the bed, and a desk equiped with writing equipment on the right wall. The room was illuminated with several candles and a fireplace in the back right corner. Tammoh suspected that this room was really the owner's master bedroom. If the barkeep wasn't using it, then he must have severe financial problems to be forced to rent it out. And here Tammoh was, getting it for free.
Tammoh walked around the room, blowing out the candles. He was being treated like a king. Just how much money did Artkit own the barkeep? Tammoh retracted that thought. No, he didn't want to know that. Last thing he needed was to get drawn into Artkit's problems. Not when he had problems of his own.
Tammoh laid his staff against the table to the right of the bed, took off his cloak, folded it, and put it on the table. The cool January air blew in through the cracks in the windows, and Tammoh shivered. He hoped the bed was as warm as it looked. Tammoh yawned, climbed into the bed, and sank two inches into the mattress. It was soft. Too soft. "How can anyone sleep in something like this?" Tammoh grumbled as he rolled over and fell asleep.
Tammoh awoke, and looked around. The fireplace had burnt out, and the only light in the room was from the moon and stars outside. Tammoh looked around the room a bit, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Satisfied with what he saw (or didn't see), Tammoh turned over to go back to sleep, when he heard a quiet whistling sound.
A small glowing sphere materialized, floating in the center of the room. It slowly circled the perimeter of the room until it reached Tammoh's staff. It hovered around the staff for a short time, then moved towards the top of the staff. Tammoh reached for his staff to move it away from the sphere, but the sphere quickly materialized into the top of the staff. The top of the staff glowed briefly, then went out.
Tammoh got out of bed and picked up his staff for inspection. In the little light illuminating the room, Tammoh could see nothing out of the ordinary. Tammoh leaned his staff back against the wall, and the tip glowed for a brief instant. Curious. Tammoh picked up the staff and moved to the center of the room. He held the staff from its center at arm's length, and slowly swept it around the room. When its tip came near the center window, it began to glow gently. Not enough to see by, but just enough to point out a direction. A sign, Tammoh decided.
Tammoh moved over to the window and looked outside. There was no one around. He opened the window and pointed the staff out the window. Nothing. He pointed the staff towards the ground and moved it in a circle, slowly. It glowed gently when he pointed it at an alleyway across the street.
"Hm. This must be the Council's signal," Tammoh decided. He dressed and looked out the window again, looking at the ground. It was about fifteen or twenty feet away, and was covered with a small amount of hay. "Hm. Looks to be fifteen or twenty feet off the ground. It'll be quicker and quieter if I go out the window, than try to sneak out through the tavern," he thought. "The hay won't break my fall; I'll have to try and use the staff." Tammoh climbed out the window and hung from the window sill. "Hm. Maybe this isn't such a good idea after all," he said. Tammoh held his staff about a foot from its top and let go from the window sill. There was a somewhat loud crack as the bottom of the staff slammed into the ground five feet before Tammoh, giving him a chance to slow his fall slightly before his feet hit the ground. Tammoh stood up and brushed himself off. "A little better than last time," he thought.
Fifteen minutes later, after following his staff through innumerable alleyways thought town, Tammoh stopped. His staff was pointing at a brick wall. Tammoh tapped the wall gently with his staff. It was solid, but the tip of the staff glowed brighter when it touched the wall.
Tammoh walked up to the wall and touched it with his hand. It felt softer than it should. Tammoh shruged, and pushed his hand against the wall. The wall started to feel warm, and Tammoh's hand started to fall through when he pulled it back. Tammoh inspected his hand to make sure it was still in good working order. "Hm. Must be a magic wall," he said. Tammoh put his hand on the wall again and pushed it through. Once he got his hand in up to his wrist, he could feel air on the other side of the wall. This was definately a passageway. Tammoh pulled his hand out, crouched, and plunged his hand back into the wall to make sure there was a floor. There was. Tammoh withdrew his arm.
"Well, might as well go in and get this over with," Tammoh said, as he walked forward through the wall. On the other side was a damp corridor lined with torches for as far as he could see. He compared the two nearest torches, and decided they were about ten feet apart. Tammoh pointed his staff forward, and when it started glowing again, he began to walk, counting the torches along the way.
Fifty torches later, Tammoh came to an intersection. Three choices. Forward, to the left, or to the right. Tammoh held his staff in each direction, but it glowed equally bright in all three directions. Tammoh retracted his staff and held it upright, while he stopped to think.
The tip of Tammoh's staff started glowing again. Then it trembled as it had before when Tammoh was talking with the wizard shopkeeper. Tammoh's entire staff started glowing, starting at the top and gradually spreading to the bottom. It trembled again, and the glowing sphere that entered his staff exited, circled around the room, and then flew down the left hallway at impressive speed, illuminating the hall as it flew and blew out the torches as it passed them.
Tammoh ran down the left hallway after the glowing sphere. A short way into the hall, he dropped the torch he was carrying. It was starting to get in the way of him running at full speed. There were plenty of torches lining the hall anyways, so if he needed a light, he could just light one of them with the flint and steel he had. Tammoh sped up slightly, continuing to chase the sphere.
Suddenly, the sphere jerked to the right and disappeared from view, leaving the hall totally dark. Tammoh, not having a light to guide him with, stopped running. Last thing he needed was to accidentally run into the wall. He stopped for a minute to catch his breath, then sat down against the wall and closed his eyes. "Damn," Tammoh cursed. "Though I guess I really couldn't expect to walk in the front door and meet the Elders."
After resting for a minute, Tammoh stood up and opened his eyes. He could see. Not very well, but he could see. Tammoh looked down the hall. He could see the two torches on either side of him quite well, as well as the next set of torches. Looking a little further down the hall, he could just barely make out the form of the third set of torches.
"Well, this is ... interesting," Tammoh said. He walked forward cautiously. "Hm, I wonder..." Tammoh thought, as he leaned his staff up against the wall and stepped back. His vision disappeared, but he could just barely make out the form of his staff. He grabbed hold of his staff, and his limited vision was restored. Tammoh smiled.
"I always knew my Master was hiding something about you," Tammoh said to his staff. "I'm begining to understand why." Tammoh resumed walking down the hall, and came to where he thought the sphere disappered. Looking around, he saw a passageway to the right.Tammoh turned and followed the passageway, which had gradually taken a slight incline. The ceiling also started to decline, and Tammoh was soon forced to crawl along the floor.
After crawling a short distance, Tammoh reached a wooden panel in the floor. It had a slightly warm touch, so Tammoh pried it open and looked into the hole. It seemed to be a ventilation shaft leading into a larger room. He could hear voices coming from the shaft. Tammoh decided to crawl into the shaft and follow it to the voices. With any luck, it would be the council.
"Where is he?" one of the voices asked. "I don't know," came another. "We lost him when he forced our light out of his staff," said a third. The first voice expressed displeasure at this. "How could he possibly expel the light? He can't be that powerful."
Tammoh, slowly sliding down the shaft, lost his footing and slid the rest of the way out, crashing through a flimsy grating at the ceiling of the room and falling to the floor. Tammoh picked himself off the floor and dusted himself off, then looked around. The room was well illuminated, and he saw the figures of five wizards standing in a circle. Two of them appeared to be extremely old and frail, but the other three were younger. None of them looked happy. Tammoh cleared his throat and turned to face the elder that appeared oldest. "My name is Tammoh Bortas. I presume you are the Council of Elders. It is a pleasure to meet you."
A bright light above Tammoh's head illuminated as the rest of the lighting in the room extinguished, leaving Tammoh virtually blind and highly visible. Tammoh moved his arm to shield his eyes from the light and squinted to he could try and make out their forms. These wizards were certainly not happy to see Tammoh. Not now, anyways.
"We know who you are. Why have you come here?" called a voice from the darkness. Tammoh assumed it was one of the younger elders, judging from the voice.
"I was instructed by my Master, Ehlrick Kahder, Chosen Successor to the Council, to travel to this town and seek an audience with you regarding this staff. I was told you can tell me what it is, or, more importantly, what it can do," Tammoh said.
One of the elders snorted. "Kahder is dead. You know that. Do you take us as fools?" Tammoh shook his head. "No, I mean no disrespect. Two weeks ago, I had a vision. I saw my Master. The vision told me to come here. This staff triggered the vision."
"What staff is that?" One of the elders asked. Tammoh's eyes had recovered from the initial shock of the light, and could vaguely see one of the elders pointing at his staff.
Tammoh looked at his staff. It had taken on the appearance of highly polished wood. It must have happened when it was entirely glowing, he decided. "This staff," Tammoh said, as he extended his arm towards the elder pointing at it, "is the staff my master weilded for twenty years. He had this staff when he first came to Ekfansel and joined the council ten years ago."
"Khader's staff was never polished," argued an elderly voice. "No, it wasn't," Tammoh agreed, "and until two weeks ago, neither was this. Two weeks ago, after my vision, it slightly polished itself. Earlier today, it got a little more polished. And just now, probably after it pushed that ball of light out, it took this appearance."
"Are you saying that this staff ejected the light?" asked one of the elders. He sounded displeased. Tammoh nodded, "Yes. I wouldn't have known how to remove it."
This was not what the Council wanted to hear. The eldest spoke, sounding like a concerned grandparent. "Tammoh, do you realize how difficult it is to accept what you are saying? You are telling us that Ehlrick gave you his staff, told you nothing of its history, and just now, you have a vision and are told to ask us to tell you what he did not. Additionally, you claim that this staff itself expelled the power of direction we sent. And on top of that, the staff you have, while visually similar to Ehlrick's, is highly polished. It is not possible to polish wood to that extent without damaging its form."
Tammoh nodded. "Yes, that is all correct."
"That is preposterous!" exclaimed one of the younger elders. "Give us your staff, so that we may verify your claims."
Tammoh started to hand his staff to the elder standing closest to him, but his staff trembled as he started reaching out. Tammoh pulled his arm back. "I'm sorry, I can't do that. This staff is the only remaining tie I have with my Master. I can not allow it to leave my possession." The staff throbbed slightly, and Tammoh heard the voice of his Master in his head: "Tammoh, trust the chief elder, but not the others."
Tammoh took a deep breath. "I understand that I have not given you much useful information. But please trust me. The only reason I am here is because I was told to come here. If you can not tell me what I need to know, then please allow me to leave and find the answers on my own."
"Tammoh, wait here," said the chief elder. "We will discuss this among us. Please, have a seat." A chair materialized behind Tammoh, and he felt a force push him back into the chair. As Tammoh sat down, he heard the five pairs of footseps walk away from him.
"Wonderful," Tammoh muttered to himself. "The only link I have to figuring out what this staff is doesn't believe what I am saying. I must know more about this staff's capabilities if I am to use it effectively."
After several minutes of silence, Tammoh heard one set of footsteps walking towards him. Tammoh stood up. "Tammoh, walk with me," said the Chief Elder, as he turned and walked toward an exit. Tammoh stood up and followed.
"Tammoh," spoke the Elder, "it is unfortunate that Ehlrick did not tell you more about the staff. Whether it was because he felt you should discover its potential on your own, or because he did not know its full potential, or because he just never got around to it, we'll never know.
"Ehlrick did not tell the Council much about the staff's history. I think it was because he was afraid of what some of us would have done had we known what it was. Your staff is traditionally passed from Master to Apprentice, when the Master decides the Apprentice worthy. Usually, the Master is around long enough to help guide the Apprentice in discovering the staff's powers. You did not have that advantage, however, you seem to have unlocked a considerable amount of power in a very short period of time.
"Your staff is called 'Ahlostaf'. Most of its power has been forgotten. There are few wizards who have the strength necessary to bring out its full potential. That it's changed form tells me that either it's bonded with you in a way it never did to Ehlrick, or Ehlrick found a way to make the staff change its form, and had it disguise itself.
"I unfortunately can not tell you much more than this. We know only that Ahlostaf exists, and that it is highly powerful, when posessed by the right person. It's over five hundred years old, so most of its stories are forgotten. I suspect they are buried within, however, and you may be able to draw out its memories eventually.
"Tammoh, I'm sorry, but this is all I can tell you. The rest, you will have to find on your own." The Elder stopped walking. "It is near morning," he said. "I must return to my chambers to prepare for the day. You have things you must do as well. Good luck in whatever path you take, Tammoh. You will need it."
Tammoh bowed to the Chief Elder. "Thank you for granting me an audience. I'm not as close to understanding all of what has happened as I hoped, but I know more now than I did before. Your words will be most helpful."
The Elder smiled. "Your Master was a good friend to me. He would have led this council well. It is the least I can do for you in return." The Elder cleared his throat, and continued: "Your friend, Artkit will meet you outside. Please go with him."
Tammoh shook the Elder's hand, and walked the rest of the way down the hall. He turned back to take one last look at the Elder, then opened the door and walked outside.
As if on cue, Artkit jumped out of nowhere at Tammoh. "Tammoh!" Artkit exclaimed, "How did your meeting go? And ooh, your staff's polished!"
Tammoh sighed. "It went. And yes, it is. Do you know what time it is?"
"Yeah, it's almost 8 am. Why?"
"Want breakfast?"
"I'm starving! Lead on!"
Tammoh led Artklit back to the Saucy Bottom. "This place serves breakfast?" Artkit asked. "Never thought to come by in the morning to find out."
Tammoh and Artkit entered the tavern. The proprietor and Lucy were standing in the back making breakfast for themselves. They looked up when Tammoh entered the room. The owner smiled.
"Ah, Tammoh! We heard something in the middle of the night and found ye gone. I'm glad to see yer safe. To be honest, we were a bit worried to find you missing," the barkeep said.
Tammoh nodded. "I was, summoned, for a meeting. My apologies. I did not meed to give you fright." Tammoh nodded towards the food. "I trust I'm not too late for breakfast?"
"No, not at all!" the barkeep said. "Please, the two of you have a seat. We don't usually make breakfast for guests, but since you're a special guest, well, we make exceptions occasionally."
Tammoh and Artkit sat down at a table. Artkit laughed. "Wow, Tammoh. I don't know what you said to these people, but they sure do know how to treat you right!"
"Actually, Artkit," Tammoh said, "I'm doing them a favor."
Artkit tilted his head in interest. "What kind of favor?"
"Bringing you here."
Artkit looked puzzled. "What for?"
"They mentioned you had a bit of a tab."
Artkit looked blank for a moment, then his face drained white and his eyes bulged. "Oh, shit! Tammoh, wait here. I'll be right back!" he said as he jumped up and ran out the door. Lucy walked up to the table and put down two plates of something steaming hot. "The only time I've seen him run that fast," Lucy said, "is when he drinks too fast and needs to go, ah, relieve his stomach."
"I've known him for ten years," Tammoh said, "and I've never seen his face go that white before. Now I really don't want to know how much he owed you." Tammoh looked at his food. "Do I owe you anything for this?"
"That depends," Lucy said, smiling. Tammoh looked concerned. "Depends on what?"
"Does it taste good?" she asked.
Tammoh looked at Lucy for a second, and then tooked at his food. It appeared to be two pieces of bread, covered with molasses and butter, and an egg on the side. He took a bite out of the bread.
"Wow!" Tammoh said, between bites. "This is good."
Lucy looked at Tammoh suspiciously. "You mean it? You're not just saying that, are you?"
Tammoh took another bite and shook his head no. "No, I mean it! This is delicious! What is it?"
"I don't have a name for it," Lucy said. "I've been cooking it for years for breakfast for Daddy and me, and he keeps saying how delicious it is and how we should expand the tavern into selling breakfast. But we've never had someone come in who looked trustworth enough to taste test for me, so we never did anything."
Tammoh tore into the bread, and between bites, mumbled out, "This is good. You promise me you'll sell this stuff. You'll make a killing!"
Artkit crashed through the front door and skidded to a halt before slamming into the bar, handed a large bag to the barkeep, and apologized profusely. "Yup, just like I said," Lucy said. "He's always late, but when he pays, he pays well." Lucy looked down at Tammoh's completely empty plate. "More?" she asked. Tammoh nodded his head furiously and grabbed Artkit's plate. Forget talking. This food was divine!
Artkit crashed into his chair. "Tammoh, thank you so much for reminding me. I don't know why, but these people let me carry a bar tab and pay them off each month. Except I'm usually too drunk when I'm in here to remember to give them money. Last time I paid them was over two months ago. They probably needed the money pretty badly. Uh, is the food good?"
Lucy returned with a second round of plates, and sat them in from of Tammoh and Artkit. Tammoh nodded, pointed at the plated, grunted "EAT!", and resumed devouring the contents of his plate. Artkit looked at Lucy, shrugged, and took a bite. Within seconds, he had degenerated into the same ravenous animal as Tammoh.
Several rounds of plates -- and light drinks -- later, Tammoh had finally recovered enough to speak a complete sentence.
"Now, Artkit, tell me that that isn't the best food you've ever tasted."
Artkit nodded. "Yes. I don't understand why they don't sell this stuff."
"They will," Tammoh said, "they will now. Provided they can make enough of it." Tammoh shook his head. "So, Artkit. I don't understand how you know how much you owe them if you're too drunk to remember to pay them."
"I don't," Artkit said. "But they've never complained, so I figure I'm giving them too much. But since they put up with me, they deserve a little extra."
Tammoh laughed. "Artkit, you have a generous heart, but remind me not to make you my accountant. You might accidentally give my clothes away!"
"So, Tammoh," Artkit said, supressing a laugh. "How long are you staying in town?"
"I don't know," Tammoh said. "I did what I came here to do, but I didn't learn much of anything I didn't already know. So I think I'm going to camp out in the library for awhile before I head out. I still need to find a few things, though, and I still need to get back to Kingston by March 12th."
"What kind of things do you need?" Artkit asked. "Depending on what you're looking for, I may have some good friends who could give you a discount."
Tammoh smiled. "Thanks, Art, I appreciate it. What I really need right now is a new spellbook. The one my Master gave me is old and worn, and it's a bit small now. I was going to buy one yesterday, remember?"
"Hm...spellbooks," Artkit mused. Artkit thought for a second. "There's a small town a day or two north of here, Fasself. Look for a wizard named Halbert. Tell him I sent you. He'll treat you right. I don't know that he'll fire- or water-proof a spellbook like some people here claim they do, but you'll get a good book for a good price. I don't like the ones they make in Ekfansel. The storekeeps here that aren't totally corrupt generally don't sell high quality spellbooks. If it wears out quick --"
"-- then you come back sooner for more," Tammoh finished. "Right. Right," Tammoh said, shaking his head. "It's the same with everything else They just don't make things like they used to." Tammoh thought for a minute. "You know, come to think of it, I've heard old people say that a lot, and I've heard on more than one occasion them mention that old folks back when they were kids said the same thing." Artkit nodded. "Your point?"
"Well, if people have been saying this for at least a hundred years, then it would stand to reason that they've been saying it for a lot longer than that too. So it occurs to me that the first object in the world was completely perfect. And everything made afterwards is of declining quality. The newer, the lower the quality. "
Artkit raised an eyebrow. "Hm. Interesting idea." Tammoh nodded. "So I think what I'm going to do is start searching for the oldest object in the world. This staff here is at least five hundred years old, probably older. I figure that gives me a good head-start."
"An interesting goal, Tammoh," Artkit said. "Let me know if you find anything. I'd certainly like to see this 'oldest object' too."
Tammoh yawned. He realized that he hadn't gotten much sleep since he woke up in the middle of the night. "Artkit, I'm gonna have to go get some sleep now. I didn't get much last night."
"Ah, I understand, Tammoh. I've got things I need to take care of as well, so I'll talk to you later," Artkit said.
"Artlkit, I'm probably going to head out of town tomorrow morning. If I don't see you then, I'll be back here eventually, so I'll see you then."
Artkit nodded, and the two friends hugged each other. "I'll see you later, Tammoh," Artkit said, as he turned around and left the Saucy Bottom. Tammoh looked around for the barkeep. He didn't see him, but Tammoh saw Lucy washing a table near the door. He walked up to her.
"Lucy, do you have a moment?"
Lucy stopped washing the table and stood up. "Yes, what can I do for you?"
"I am going to be in town considerably longer than I had planned on originally. Will it ... be a problem? I know I originally told you I was only going to be here a week, but my plans have changed, and my business here is unconcluded."
Lucy frowned. "I'll have to talk to my father," she said, "but seeing as how we never rent out the room you're staying in anyways, I don't think it'll be a problem. And if your tastes are any indication of others, I think we'll make a fair bit extra money selling breakfast, so that would more than cover it. Though, we may need your help from time to time. Daddy's not as strong as he used to be, and he could use some help carrying heavy objects."
Tammoh nodded. "I'll probably be studying at the library for a considerable amount of time, but since you are offering me free room and board, I would be more than happy to help out." Tammoh yawned. "But right now, I'm rather tired. I didn't get very much sleep last night. So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to retire and get some rest. Would you please speak to your father for me?"
Lucy nodded. "Yes, of course." Tammoh smiled, and turned to walk up the stairs to his room. "Tammoh?" called Lucy. Tammoh turned towards her. "Thanks," she said. Tammoh smiled and nodded his head, and walked up the stairs, retired to his room, and slept.
