Lirsti and Illuvetar: Part 7

Bad Luck

The curse glowed. It radiated. It shone and fought back the daylight. It took the form of a six-sided star tattoo on the right shoulder of Dunrr the dwarf. Observe in slowed motion as the dwarf charged through the air at Borkel the barbarian.

Borkel took no notice of the shining tattoo and as he would soon find out, that was a dire mistake. Even though Dunrr was rushing with all his dwarven might, Borkel brushed him aside. He turned around, threw his axe down and held the dwarf.

Lirsti and Illuvetar: Part 6

Battle Rage

“Only if you can defeat me.”

The words were calm. Their implication was terrifying. On the one side of arena C stood Borkel the great; Borkel the barbarian. On the opposite side stood three misplaced adventurers: Lirsti, Illuvetar and Dunrr the dwarf.

Lirsti sighed and facepalmed.

Lirsti and Illuvetar: Part 5

Meeting the Barbarian

“There it is, my friends. The great Ethanopolis.” Lirsti looked meaningfully into the distance.

“Quite,” said Illuvetar sipping his coffee while leaning on the edge of the hot-air balloon’s basket.

“It ain’t that great if I can’t see it from down here,” said Dunrr the dwarf.

“Hush, now,” said Lirsti absent mindedly while looking over the… city.

Neat Rings

Clink; clink-clink, was the ice’s reply to the whisky glass in which it had bounced around – there was no whisky in the glass, mind you (let alone any other liquid). William encouraged the ice’s soliloquy by idly swirling the glass around to the rhythm of train-wheels against the tracks. The very same train whose dining cart William was staring out of with his chin rested in his palm and the very same tracks that separated two remote towns. Clink-click, said the ice in the winter of 1906.

Bloh the Paperclip

Part 1
Far,  far away. In a place just down the street, sat a paper-clip – to be precise,  Bloh the paper-clip. Bloh was an ordinary piece of stationery with an ordinary purpose and (opaque) colour. But he was an unhappy paper clip. He was actually quite pleasant to get to know, but the other stationary (in the land of Cyanide Not Allowed – CNA) always shunned him.
The highlighter-punks made fun of him and the fancy-fountain-pen aristocrats avoided him. He was completely normal except for one thing: he had Tourette syndrome. This unfortunate syndrome had the undesirable effect on poor Bloh to say inappropriate and vulgar things in the middle of his sentence involuntarily.
Although it was known that he couldn’t control it, he was still banished by the council of rulers from the exam-pad palace –  forced to wander the inhospitable wilderness of the stapler-monster wastelands. This was because his constant cursing badly influenced the clutch-pencil-lead  babies.
Anyway, one day the sad paper-clip was sitting in his hermit hut (out in the stapler-monster wastelands) wondering where he was going to get his next meal from,  when something happened that hadn’t happened since… Well, ever: there was a knock at the door.

Part 2
Suddenly, dramatically the door opened. A gust of stale CNA air blew into the hut. There standing in all his magnificence was the Ruler-King. Out of all the rulers from the council, he was chosen to be king because he had one regal centimetre of extra height.
So there he stood (all 31cm of him). It took Bloh a moment to remember his manners (he was still just as respectful) and so he bowed down in humility,
“Oh your royal <****ing> highness, I am <bloody> honoured to have your majesty in my humble <*****> presence.”
“Oh, stop grovelling, Bloh,” snapped the king irritably, “I don’t want to waste any more of my time than I need to.”  He let himself in and took a seat on the only sofa in the room.
Bloh stood up and offered the King refreshments which were rudely rejected.
“Just listen to what I have to say and keep quiet.”
Bloh nodded and poked the fire with an old piece of a staple that he had found in a corpse in the wastelands.
“I don’t usually make a habit of seeing people in person. They are usually summoned to my court by the royal guard. I could not employ their services for this specific situation, let alone let anyone know about it as it is so delicate-“
“I’m sorry to <****> interrupt,” interrupted Bloh,  “but is your highness certain that <**** ****> you would not like a cup of tea?”
“No, Bloh, I’ve never been one for tea. As I was saying: I am seeing you in complete secrecy and this will not be spoken of (assuming you ever meet someone to speak to again). A neighbouring Kingdom is having some trouble. They are being pestered by a dark evil that only you (or so I’m told) can save them from.”
“Me? ” Asked Bloh in amazement, “someone needs me for something.”
“Yes, yes. Now the mission won’t be easy, but if you succeed, you will be granted amnesty from your crimes and paid handsomely.”
“I accept!” cried Bloh eagerly.
“Very well, follow me. ” The king swiftly marched out of the hut and climbed gracefully into his sellotape chariot. Bloh climbed into the back.
The powerful cart-scissors pulled the chariot across the tiled landscape of CNA. For a small part of the journey, they were out in the open. The brief rush of cool, dark air was stopped just after they entered the Kingdom known as:” Bathroom bizarre

Part 3
The scissors clicked to a halt in the back of the foreign Kingdom. After a while, a figure emerged from the darkness. It embraced the Ruler-king.
“Welcome old friend,” it told him. “It is sad that we must meet on this dire occasion.”
“Indeed,” replied the king solemnly, “but I might have the solution.” he tilted his head towards Bloh.
The figure turned to Bloh to get a better look. Bloh finally saw the figure for who he was: the famed and mysterious Cockroach king. The large cockroach squinted at him,
“Ah, you must be Bloh. Your reputation is widely known. The kingdom of CNA doesn’t appreciate your skills but we do.”
“I’m sorry,” apologised Bloh politely, “I don’t have any <*******> skills.”
“To us, I believe, your Tourette syndrome will save us. Come, let us go. I will explain as we walk.” They walked into the darkness. “You see,” explained the ‘roach, “my subjects are unhappy. We generally live in peace- for the most part. Of course we have our conflict with the humans (they don’t like the fact that we are fixated with filth) but we can handle that. Even when it gets really tough, we just console ourselves through remembering that we will outlive them by many millennia.”
They were silent as they walked into a small intrusion of cockroaches huddling together. They barely looked up.
“Do you see what has happened to my subjects? They have been frightened beyond what nature intended. Every night we are attacked by something. We have no idea what it is but every morning, there is a cleanness wherever it went. Anyone who gets caught is killed due to overexposure to cleanliness. The shaman has prophesied that ‘the one called Bloh will confront it alone. If confronted with violence, he will fail and if confronted in peace he will fail, but confront with passive curiosity, he will surely succeed. No-one but you will be able to interpret its meaning. We are going to hide until morning because the prophecy requires you to go alone.”
The fear-filled insects began hiding. “Wait,” protested Bloh but it was too late. He was already alone. He sat down miserably and wondered what he was going to do.
The prophecy said that he couldn’t use violence. That was a pity because he’d learnt a thing or two from living in the wastelands for such a long time.
It also said that he couldn’t use peace. He’d been ostracised for so long that he’d forgotten all about peace. Anyway, how would he make a peace offering to something that he had no idea what it was?
What did that leave… passive curiosity? He vaguely remembered something about curiosity killing a cat. He entertained himself for a moment being happy that he wasn’t a cat or else this would be significantly more difficult. In any case, how can you be passively curious? Doesn’t curiosity imply action?
Before he could come to a conclusion about his questions, he heard a sound that made him jump.
“Who <the ****> is there?” he asked nervously.
A titanic bar of Pantene (smooth-as-silk) soap slid into view. Bloh looked up in awe, “who <**** ****> are you?”
“So many questions,” said the Pantene (smooth-as-silk) soap in an ancient and minty-fresh voice, “and such bad language. I am Washer (cleaner of worlds). I have come to rid the world of gruesome filth like the cockroach nation but first I shall wash your mouth.”
“Oh, <s***! >” swore Bloh.
Washer grabbed Bloh and began scrubbing him. Bloh was shouting for help while letting out a constant stream of cuss-words. The more Bloh swore, the harder he was scrubbed. The harder he was scrubbed, the more he swore. Eventually there was just a big cloud of bubbles.
After a time, the commotion calmed down. As the bubbles popped, a spectator would have noticed this: Bloh was lying down next to the soap. Neither of then moved. An observant spectator would have noticed two differences immediately: Bloh no longer had any colour (although he was still opaque, he was now albino). The second thing that would have been noticed immediately was that Washer was no longer its original size but rather 5 times smaller and by extension, smaller than Bloh.
Washer recovered first. He got up, gasped at his tiny size and squeaked away into the darkness. Bloh woke up just in time to see him disappear. The cockroaches slowly came back. There were whispers at first. That became excited talking and finally exploded into ecstatic cheering. They chanted, “Bloh the hero! He who chases away the clean! Hooray! Hooray!”

Sometime later, Bloh was sitting at a large dining table. The Ruler-King was busy making a toast for the celebration feast.
“As we all know, Bloh was an inconspicuous piece of stationary, he always minded his own business but unfortunately his unfortunate condition could not be tolerated. He was banished and shunned but when the people needed him most, he was still there for them- selfless as ever. As promised, he has been granted amnesty and very, very generous treasure.”
The king paused while everyone at the feast cheered. He nodded in acknowledgement and went on, “As well as helping our good neighbours the cockroaches and defeating the evil that pestered them, he has also miraculously lost his disorder. Isn’t that right, Bloh?”
“It sure is, your royal Ruliest of rulers,” beamed Bloh joyfully.”
“Well there you go,” said the king, “all’s well that ends well. Please celebrate with me this auspicious occasion. Cheers!”
They all connected glasses. For a while the only sound that was heard was that of clinking cutlery and crockery as they all enjoyed their meals. The King held his glass up to drink when he stopped as if he had just remembered something.
“By the way, Bloh “said the King.
“Yes, your highness?”
“I spoke to the other council members and you’re banished. The people of my kingdom say that your albino skin scares the clutch-pencil-lead babies.” the King continued eating.
Bloh was silent for a moment before he spoke (still remembering his manners),
“<Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu->”

The End

The morals to this story:

1. Passive curiosity doesn’t exist. It is just something made up by shamans who try to seem mystical or are just stoned.

2. Remember to never have Tourette syndrome unless you can <******> be bad-ass at it as well.

3. Albinos are people too… unless they are paperclips.

Lirsti and Illúvetar: Part 4

A Balloon-beginning

The breath misted in the icy air. Illuvetar rubbed his hands together just before igniting the hot-air balloon’s burner. While keeping the burner in his peripheral vision, he turned to greet Illuvetar making his way towards him in a casual robe designed for mobility: “Good morrow, Lirsti, old chap.”
“I suppose,” said Lirsti. “You look geared up. Equipment in order?” He gestured vaguely at Illuvetar’s lightweight clockwork-armour.
“Certainly,” said Illuvetar. “What sort of royal engineer would I be if I wasn’t prepared?”
“We’ve been exiled, Illuvetar. You aren’t a ‘royal’ anything anymore.”
“Oh pish. Anyway, I have equipment for nearly any situation packed into old Ava here. What have you got in that chest there?”
“It’s wizard paraphernalia. You wouldn’t understand,” said Lirsti, packing the finely decorated crate onto Ava, the hot-air balloon.”
Illuvetar shrugged. “I’d say, question we should be asking is, where is that dwarf?”
“Yes. Yes, indeed. I gave him money to buy clothes and equipment yesterday.”
“There he is.”
Lirsti looked where Illuvetar was pointing and saw the short humanoid strolling towards them with knapsack slung over his shoulder. He looked morbid and tired in the early morning light.
“Morning, dwarf!” cheered Illuvetar.
“My name is Dunrr,” parried the dwarf and then after a moment of thought added: “Are you sure we can’t go past my home village to pick some stuff up?”
“Quite sure,” said Lirsti. “The faster we can find the Improbability Orb, the faster we can clean up the mess you made.”
“Hey!” said Dunrr. “It’s a fine line. I didn’t directly–”
Dunrr trailed off as he and the other two looked at a newcomer.
“Archwizard Napier,” said Lirsti in a voice colder than the morning air it was spoken through. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“You’re distaste towards me is juvenile Lirsti. The system cannot tolerate inadequacy.”
“It would be rather unsporting for you to have come here just to chide us one last time, Napier. But I trust that there is a better reason.”
“Correct. You’ll find enclosed a letter with what we know about the Improbability Orb’s whereabouts.” The Archwizard handed an envelope to Illuvetar who placed it in a satchel at his waist. “May your journeys be swift. And keep an eye at this one,” he said pointing at Dunrr before turning to leave.
Dunrr stuck his tongue out at Napier behind his back. Lirsti shook his head as he climbed into the balloon after Illuvetar.
“Time’s a wasting, Dunrr,” said Illuvetar. “Let’s go.”
The dwarf sighed and climbed into the cluttered balloon’s basket. He found a comfortable looking crate and took a seat on it, putting his satchel beside him. He watched as Illuvetar applied heat by regulating the gas burner. He then looked at Lirsti who was lying on another crate reading. Dunrr looked back at Illuvetar and visibly became bored.
Dunrr stood up to look over the edge of the basket. “When are we going to… Oh my, goodness!” The dwarf reeled back from the edge. “How long have we been in the air for?”
Illuvetar gave a hearty laugh. “It’s the best form of travel, by far. You can see everything from up here.”
Dunrr gave a nervous laugh and tried looking over the edge again. After a while, he relaxed and actually seemed to enjoy himself.
Lirsti sat up. “Kindly, pass me the envelope, Illuvetar.”
Illuvetar obliged. Lirsti took the paper out of the envelope and looked at it.
“Read it out loud, chap,” said Illuvetar.
“Dear Lirsti and Illuvetar, as you are aware, you will soon no longer be welcome at the Tetravigesimal castle. This exile will continue until you recover the Improbability Orb. We have consulted one another and through some logical observations noted that it is still in our dimension but when it disappeared, it jumped to a different point in time. If it traveled back in time or into the near future, we believe that it is still recoverable. Attached below are some contacts who will be expecting you. Consult them to find out more information. Regards, the Council.”
“Who are the contacts?” asked Illuvetar.
“Hmmm,” Lirsti wondered. “We have Pandita the guru in the Moroki mountains, someone called Borkel the great in Ethanopolis – I can’t believe we have to go to that rat’s nest, there’s a Eystal in the Elven retreat at Yimmerond and finally, Gunrr the prince of the mountain homes.”
Dunrr’s head swung around from his idle gaze into the world below; the only thing stopping his head from popping right off was his stubby neck. The other two saw anxiety in his eyes. “Oh, no,” he said.
“What’s the matter there, Dunrr?”
“Gunrr is… my brother.”

Lirsti and Illúvetar: Part 3

Trotting to the Slaughter

Tetravigesimal castle. The epitome of magical reseach. A grand structure bustling with activity, except tonight. The halls were quiet. The only active place was the great council hall and active it was.
Wizards and adventurers filled the galleries surrounding the central podium suspended in mid-air, attached to the catwalk. The room was full of loud bustling conversation and arguments.
A well dressed, robed magician entered the room and strode down the catwalk to the central podium. He stood in the center where the blue light from the magic orbs shon over him, and he cleared his throat into the voice amplifier. The room went silent waiting for him to speak.
Meanwhile, in a nearby pig farm, some startled pigs were looking around themselves confusedly. In fact, they were startled that they were pigs.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” squealed the one.
“I wish I was, old fruit,” said another. “You really are a pig.”
“Hey, you’re not any better looking,” defended the first.
“Where’s the dwarf?” asked the second.
A pig who had been sneaking away on the tips of his trotters saw that the game was up and bolted away will a shrill.
“Get him!”
The other two bared down on the escapee and wedged him to the ground from either side.
“Don’t run, Bacon. You’re still needed to do some explaining. Isn’t that right, Lirsti?” laughed the one.
“Yes, yes, Illuvetar. He’s not going anywhere we aren’t going. First order of business is to un-swine ourselves. But I don’t have much magic-juice left in me after the portal spell.”
After a moment of pensive thought, another pig trotted up to the three. “Hey. Hey-hey hey.” It grunted.
“Hello, friend,” saild Illuvetar.
“What do you want?” asked Lirsti.
“Help me,” pleaded the ‘dwarf’.
“The humans are gone,” said the newcomer. “No food! No food!”
“The people must be doing something,” said Lirsti. “My guess is a council assembly. Now we just need to find a way to–”
“For the king!” screeched Illuvetar charging head first into the wooden fence which snapped under the inertia of his porky bulk.
“That’s one way, I suppose,” said Lirsti.
***
“… And for some reason, spells are acting unpredictably.” The arch wizard spoke from the central podium. “If we don’t find out what is causing this, who knows–” The wizard stopped when he saw two pigs clippity-clopping along the catwalk towards him dragging a reluctant third one after them by the tail. “What is the meaning of this?”
The pigs stopped and one let go to run straight at the podium to apparently knock it off. The wizard on the podium pulled up his sleeve with one hand to cast a spell but he was too late.
But the podium wasn’t knocked over. Instead, as the pig came into contact with the one magic orb, he was lifted into the air by the said magic and quickly transformed into his human form. The galleries gasped.
“Lirsti!” exclaimed the wizard. “What… How…”
At first Lirsti didn’t reply but rather turned to the other pigs. The one who had been trying to run away had given up and was lying dejectedly on the ground. Lirsti turned them back into their true forms: Illuvetar and a dwarf.
Once the transformation was complete, Lirsti solemnly looked towards the arch wizard. “I am here merely to be a harlinger.” The entire room waited. “We… found the improbability orb.”
The arch wizard relaxed. “Surely that’s a good–”
“And we lost it,” said Illuvetar, poking his head out from behind Lirsti.
Without looking, Lirsti pushed Illuvetar’s head away with a sigh. “More like it lost itself. This dwarf is responsible.”
“That’s right,” said Illuvetar. “He made me do it.”
“This would explain all the magical mishaps,” said the arch wizard. “I’m afraid that there’s nothing else to be done but to exile you three until the orb has been found. And, dwarf…”
The dwarf looked terrified.
“… This is for you.” as the arch wizard spoke, sparks flashed from him and embedded themselves onto the dwarf’s right shoulder – forming a six-sided star tattoo. “You have the choice to do what you will but the curse I have placed on you will punish you every time you disobey either of these two… nitwits.”
“Hey–” began Lirsti.
“You have twenty-four hours to prepare.”

Lirsti and Illúvetar: Part 2

Prions and Prisoners

“No!” cried Illuvetar.
“Look what you made him do, you miserable little dwarf!” shouted Lirsti at the tree-stump sized man. “Do you have any idea how precious that stone was – the power it contained?”
The dwarf looked startled. “I –” he began. “I’m sorry. I… Just like gems.”
“Fool!” shouted Lirsti, smacking his palm against his forehead.
“Look,” said Illuvetar. “You may or may not have premeditated this, but either way, you’re going to have to come with us.”
“What?” protested the dwarf. “I don’t want to! You can’t make me!”
Lirsti’s eyes were suddenly filled with fury. “Oh, my little friend,” he said menacingly, we can make you and you will come.
As the dwarf cowered away, Lirsti wasted no time in conjuring a fiber cord and using it to bind its hands. Before it could start hurling curses at them, a gag was applied to its mouth.
“Ok, what do we do now?” wondered Lirsti.
“I’ll say,” said Illuvetar, “this quite a pickle. Let’s take him back to Tetravigesimal castle. There they can question him and perhaps we can find out what had happened to the orb.”
“Hmph,” sulked Lirsti.
“We can torture him,” added Illuvetar.
This cheered Lirsti up who then smiled and walked on along the road.
The dwarf looked at Lirsti’s back and then at Illuvetar with eyes that pleaded to hear the words “We’re only joking.” But those words never came. Illuvetar just whistled a tune and led the dwarf along the road. He then caught up to Lirsti.
The road meandered through tall, dense trees. Light beaded playfully through the canopy and offered to illuminate the adventurers and dwarf’s path. For a long time no-one spoke. There were also no other sounds to be heard other than footsteps of three individuals on a dirt path.
The silence was broken.
“Goodness me. What’s that?” gasped Illuvetar.
Lirsti’s eyes narrowed. “Prion guards.”
At this, the dwarf’s eyes widened and he started squirming. The two adventurers pulled the dwarf well into the wood where they could still see the road.
“Shut up,” hissed Lirsti.
The dwarf stopped squirming but still continued to whimper quietly.
A few moments later, some hunched soldiers walked into sight where the three of them had been standing. The prion guard’s tentacles protruded from their helmets and appeared to taste the air.
“What’s this?” sparked the one in a robotic voice.
“It looks like a Jewelry box,” sparked another.
Illuvetar patted his pocket and cringed when he felt no jewelry box.
“It was probably left here a long time ago,” sparked a third one.
“No. This is not true,” sparked the first one. “These tracks are fresh.”
The three observers’ instincts kicked in and they were bolting into the deep forest before they could hear the rest.
Occasionally they would hear the prions behind them but never were the sounds too close for comfort (relatively speaking).
“Woah!” said Illuvetar, nearly falling into a hole in the side of the hill. It was a neatly concealed cave entrance.
The three lowered themselves into the hole with Lirsti going first. They waited in the mouth of the cave. Soon they heard the hobbled footsteps of the prions.
“Take a look in there,” sparked a prion.
Lirsti gave a panicked look at Illuvetar who gestured deeper into the cave. They quietly made their way further in but the dwarf slipped and fell – yelping as he collapsed by Illuvetar’s feet.
“In there!” electrified a prion. “Get them!”
Illuvetar drew his sword. “Cast a portal spell, chap!”
“Not enough time to pick a destination,” said Lirsti with a worried look on his face.
“Do it!”
Lirsti closed his eyes and with a dazzling display of arcane prowess, he summoned a magical portal. Lirsti jumped in, then Illuvetar. The dwarf weighted up his options, rolled his eyes and jumped in after them.

Lirsti and Illúvetar: Part 1

The Big Bang Paradox

All was quiet over the non-existent universe. There was nothing to see, nothing to hear. In fact there was nothing to nothing at all. It stands to reason that there was no time either. So it is hard to say when the following happened.
For the first time in eternity, there was a flash of light. A pebble the size of the full stop at the end of this sentence appeared out of nowhere. Faintly from behind it, in the distance, a sound travelled through the nothingness as well: someone said, “Damn!” and so the world began. That was fourteen billion years ago.
“I found it! Here it is! We did it!” shouted Illúvetar. He was shaking slightly from the excitement. Lirsti calmly observed as Illúvetar idealised the treasure chest before him.
“It appears we have,” he replied, “or at least we hope so.”
Illúvetar, still engulfed in his excitement said, “Quickly, let’s open it!”
Lirsti closed his eyes and slowly stepped away from the hole Illúvetar had just dug. Sparks formed on the tips of his fingers and silently jumped onto the chest. The lid flew open. This process was repeated five more times and within the sixth chest (each chest was within the previous) lay a small fragile oyster. Illúvetar gently opened the oyster and transferred a full-stop sized orb into a beautifully padded jewellery box.
“We must make sure that the improbability orb arrives at king Radix’s fort in time (long live the king)” Illúvetar said as they walked down the old forest road. Lirsti was about to reply but he was stopped by something.
A little man about the size of a tree stump had jumped out in front of them. The man said, “An orb? What is this I hear? What sort of orb? May I look at it?” Illúvetar, already on the defence, whipped the jewellery box out of his pocket to keep it safe.
“Never,” he said, “be gone little man. We were entrusted with responsibility greater than you can ever imagine!” and because of his wild hand gestures, something very unfortunate happened: the box opened and the orb flew out. With a deafening silence it hit the ground and disappeared.
All was quiet over the non-existent universe. There was nothing to see, nothing to hear. In fact there was nothing to nothing at all. It stands to reason that there was no time either. So it is hard to say when the following happened.
For the first time in eternity, there was a flash of light…