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.”
TaleTurner 