Title: The Offer

Author: Sam

Series: Choices Freely Stolen 01 / ?

Rating: M: language, death, and future chapters

Setting: Autumn 1992: The Realm of Dungeons & Dragons

Characters & Ages: Bobby- 18 (in two months); Terri and Sir Timothy- 18; Uni (Elf)- 19 (Unicorn- 9); Lorne- 21; Sheila, Presto, and Varla- 23; Diana- 23 going on 24; Eric and Ayisha- 24; Hank- 24 going on 25; Kosar- 25 going on 26; Dekion- 33 going on 34

Summary: No longer children the Champions of Power are faced with multiple choices and pressing tasks, the first of which is whether they should go home.

Spoiler: Basically, random episodes from the Animated D&D series, as well as the un-aired "Requiem" episode by Michael Reeves. Die-hard fans may not approve of what I do with Uni in this series, and for that I am sorry.

Category: Fantasy, Adventure

Disclaimer: "Dungeons and Dragons" is a trademark of TSR and the cartoon is a creation of many peoples, including Marvel Productions, TSR inc, Saban Entertainment, and Wizards of the Coast. I am in no way connected with these people, and I do not claim ownership to these characters, lands, or names. I have borrowed them to share a story-and most likely not a story any of them would have written had they had the time or no. I am making no money from this, and it is just for my entertainment, and that of free entertainment to a select group of friends. Thank You.

Distribution: Please ask first?

Note: If you haven't read my other story "The Never-ending Story" then this sequel will make little sense. You can try reading this on its own with the knowledge that the series ended in 1985 and this takes place in 1992, but all other changes are too various (33 chapters worth) to easily sum-up. I recommend you go read it and come back and join us, but that is your decision. Any questions are welcome.

Feedback: Please? I love comments.

xxx

The four suns hung low in the morning sky, lighting the vast battlefield and beyond. Corpses littered the cracked, blood-soaked earth: orcs, goblins, lizard men, humans, horses, bullywogs, and any number of other varied creatures were represented. At the south end of the field lay a large five-headed dragon among destroyed equipment and various bodies she had landed on during her fall at the height of battle. Among the dead moved armored humans, elves, dwarves, and gnomes. They searched the bodies, dragging or carrying the dead into piles to burn or transporting the injured to makeshift staging areas for healing. When the victorious Armies of Light, sporting the standard of a white griffon head encircled by black, came upon a fallen ally, they moved the being into the camp at the south of the valley just beyond Tiamat's body.

Tents, large howdahs, and various wagons were set up as a temporary living space. The largest dwellings were reserved for healing; the smaller ones for sleeping and dining facilities to be used on a rotational basis. Beyond the camp, to the southwest, was a sparse copse of dead trees surrounded by palm-sized leafed vines called razor leaf, an edible healing plant known to severe a body's limbs if handled injudiciously. Among the trees, protected by patrolling unicorns and faerie dragons besides the razor leaf vines, were the noble deceased of the Armies of Light. They would be given proper funerary rites later that day.

On the far western edge of the camp, nearest the trees but blocked from the sight by several tents, was a fire pit. Distant enough from the breakfast fire to give the speaker privacy, but close enough to watch for signs of trouble, stood two men and three women. All were dressed in various casual-type clothing and held empty plates and water tins. They watched the group speaking by the fire and quietly awaited a return summons.

Unlike the numerous other cooking fires being utilized that morning, this one smoldered with red and violet flames, a thin haze of smoke hanging about the eight people near its warmth. The tallest, over seven foot in height and dressed in red and black robes, slowly stirred the embers with a branch; his black eyes set in a long pale face intently watched the faces of his companions, as if searching for some unspoken clue as to their innermost thoughts.

Across the fire, the former Children of Power sat pondering the choice they had been given.

"Home. . ." Bobby sounded more puzzled by the offer than certain. The seventeen year old blond Barbarian absently petted his girlfriend's long black ponytail as he tried to think how to answer.

Terri turned denim-blue eyes to Bobby's blue ones. She toyed with the golden heart-shaped locket she wore. She was fully recovered from the shock of her vision of earlier, but the Dreamer didn't look as comfortable - - as lethargic - - as the other Champions of Power. She looked down-right ill.

Venger continued to absently stir the fire as he waited for their answer: stay or go home.

The sudden angry roar of a dragon barely pierced the tired daze of the seven humans. Unenthused, they turned to look at the battlefield, where the massive five-headed dragon reared back. In a breathy reverberating boom she screamed "You fools! Do not come near me!" Her white head snapped at one of the men trying to aid in untangling her.

"I thought she was dead," Diana said distractedly.

Venger's deep voice answered "the Elf used the Net of Healing on Tiamat. She will live."

Turning, the seven again looked at the mage on the other side of the fire, his face solemn behind dancing red and violet flames. Slowly, he stirred the embers with his stick, watching the others in return. After a long moment he asked "shall I send you home now?"

They looked at one another. The promise of home, of an end to heartache, a peaceful future, beckoned like a siren's call: simply agree and go home.

Something felt wrong. Terri shook her head, trying to clear the fuzzy lethargy overtaking her. Feeling queasy, she curled an arm around her stomach and took a deep breath, gagging as the campfire's smoke hit the back of her throat. "The fire - - " she said, barely audible, then repeated louder, "the fire's making me sick. Can we put it out?"

Holding his stick still at last, Venger watched the Dreamer with sharp black eyes.

Again she pleaded "can we douse the fire? I'm going to be sick." Terri had paled considerably.

A splash of cold water over the flames sent up a thick curtain of black and purple smoke, making all seven gag. Hank's free hand went to his mouth, the other still gripping the bucket he'd poured over the fire.

As the wind dissipated the writhing cloud, Eric asked "what was that?" He blinked, the feeling of lethargy lifting as he rose to his feet. "What kind of wood was that?" He thought he had used typical fuel for the breakfast fire, but no fire he'd made before had been violet - - and none had smoked like that after putting it out.

Presto was quickest to understand what had happened and his golden eyes blazed with sudden fury. Unable to give vent to his anger verbally, he mind-screamed:"Varla! I need you!" The Magician's eyes never left the form of the mage across the fire pit.

Among those watching, Varla looked shocked by the violence of her friend's call. She said "something's wrong. Let's go" and lead the others quickly back to the gathering. "Presto?"

"I want you to tell Venger exactly what I think of him," Presto growled mentally.

Such hostile thoughts were evident to the telepathic Kosar as well even with his protective amulet. He stepped forward and draped a finely woven rope net over Presto's shoulders. "Here, this should help," he said as the net began to glow and Presto's damaged throat began to heal.

Venger remained passive awaiting what would come. His face was almost serene as he watched the Magician with unfathomable black eyes.

Impatiently, the twenty-three year old Magician shrugged off the net, Sheila picking it up. As Presto stepped towards Venger no one made a move to stop him; no one spoke, confused and stunned by the normally soft-spoken man's unexpected animosity. There hadn't been enough time for it to heal him completely, but Presto's throat felt well enough that he gladly switched to his verbal voice, a hoarse intense sound very unlike his normal light tenor.

Raising a shaking hand and pointing directly at Venger's face, Presto growled out, "you son of a bitch! How dare you try to manipulate us!"

Diana frowned, stiffening. She turned confused, but less dazed, eyes on her friend. "Presto?" her voice sounded wary.

He ignored her, his voice rising as he vented hoarsely. "You were trying to send us back. You tried to trick us with that fire." As Varla put a gentle hand on his arm, Presto moved forward another step. "You want us to go home, but you're wrong, Venger. That's not my home!"

"Hey, Presto," Hank began in a placating tone. He was beginning to realize that Venger had hypnotized them somehow, but Presto's anger was distracting - - and terrifying.

"No," Presto made a cutting motion with one hand, still glaring at the former arch-fiend. "You knew, didn't you? Both of you knew and you still want to send me back there!" He pulled away from Varla and strode right past Ayisha, ignoring her attempts to catch his arm. "You knew I was born in the Realm, you bastard. I don't belong on Earth. I belong here!" The Magician came face to face with the still calmly seated Venger. "You want to send me away from my home - - my family!"

Finally, Varla broke through the man's rage. "Presto! Please!" At his annoyed look, she held up both hands, grey eyes meeting gold. "You're not making sense, Presto. You weren't born here. You came from a different world nine years ago." She tried to sooth him with her gentle tones, reaching for him again.

Hank reached out as well, touching Presto's shoulder. "Yeah. Calm down, Buddy. I know it feels like we've been here all our lives. Let's sit and talk this out."

Presto shook off Hank's hand without breaking eye contact with Varla. "No. I wasn't born on Earth. I was born here: in the Realm. It's why I've always felt at home here, even at the beginning." The Magician jabbed a shaking finger at Venger, nearly hitting the tall mage's still serene face. "He wants to make me leave - - send me away. He wants to take me away from my parents and my twin and. . ."

"Twin?" Varla looked hopelessly confused, her voice laced with the tears she tried to hold back at the overwhelming emotional display.

It was her reaction that brought Presto up short. Removing his glasses, Presto pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, eyes closed and head thrown back, trying to regain control. Finally, after several slow, deep breaths, he put the glasses back on and looked at Varla, almost unaware of the bewildered crowd around them. "Yes, twin. You, Varla. You're my twin sister. We have the bond scars to prove it." He absently reached one hand back, touching the area of the scar hidden under his tunic and trouser waistband. "I'm finally home and nothing," he sent a chilling glare at Venger "no spell will change my mind and send me away. I'm home."

Before Venger could answer Presto's charge, Hank's voice broke in, low and solemn. "Venger? Is he right? Did you cast a spell on us to make us choose Earth?"

"Yes."

The word was simply stated, Venger's voice calm and deep. He stood, his seven foot frame towering though not overpowering. "If you remain here, your lives will be harder than ever they were. Your trials will be greater. You will be safer in your world," he nodded in deference to Presto and added, "on Earth than in the Realm."

Diana's voice vibrated in an angry reflection of Presto's. "Shouldn't we be allowed to decide if we want the safe path or not?" She moved her hands restlessly, as if reaching for the javelin that wasn't there.

Venger turned his black eyes on the twenty-three year old Acrobat. "If you stay, you must be certain that no lingering thought of what you leave behind will distract you."

"Distract us?" Eric sent a glare at the mage, despite the vagaries in their heights. He strode as close to Venger as Presto had, deliberately trying to hem the man in. "You think you can play with us like puppets and it wouldn't distract us?" He stiffened his back, pulling to his full five foot eight inch height. "Presto's right. You're a bastard. I should have thrown away that stupid key. Then we would have recognized you for the lying control-hungry. . ."

Uni's hand on Eric's arm silenced him and the Cavalier turned his back on the mage, head bowed, fists clenched.

"Why?" Sheila's teal eyes met Venger's black ones. "Why would you try to trick us into going home? I - - I thought you were one of the good guys now."

Venger looked at the twenty-three year old Thief, a soft frown on his face. He didn't answer the charge of the pretty redhead, instead asking steadily, "have you chosen, Young Ones?"

Hank couldn't believe the audacity of the man. Shaking his head, narrowing light blue eyes, the blond Ranger crossed his arms carefully over his bandaged chest. "Venger, we need some time to think." He shook his head again and added, "clear-headed. No magic, Venger."

"Magic or not, I know what I choose," Diana ground out, anger vibrating through her voice. The Acrobat once more planted her hands on her hips. "I'm going to the Singing Forest to get the cure from Heart's Unity. I don't care who else can do this quest. I am doing it. Dekion needs me, and I won't let him down. I love him." Shock crossed Diana's face at her own admission, and her eyes flashed to Kosar's sad blue ones.

The Psionicist offered a small half-smile to his first love. "I know you do, Diana." His verbal voice was soft, echoing. "I'll stay with him and keep him safe."

She reached out to hug him, rather surprised but thankful that the pain of their previous day's telepathic connection didn't extend to physical. "Thank you, Kosar." She smiled at him, squeezing his arms in strong hands. "You truly are one of the best friends I ever had."

He nodded, unable to reply.

"I'll go with you, Diana. I want to get the cure for Ramuud." Presto's hoarse voice broke through to the rest of the group and Bobby finally shook himself free of the odd lethargy of Venger's spell.

The Barbarian looked at the Dreamer in his arms. He didn't want to make such a significant life choice without asking her opinion - - unlike the choice Sheila had made for him what seemed a life-time ago. "Terri? Should," he cleared his throat and asked more softly, "should we go home now?"

She turned and looked at him. The eighteen year old woman well knew her boyfriend's thoughts and feelings. After nine years of watching him spiral deeper into obsession about the Realm, Terri didn't think simply finding Sheila and rescuing her would be enough for him. She knew Bobby belonged to the Realm. Going home would drive him insane, whether he knew it or not.

Cupping his face in her hands, Terri kissed Bobby softly, briefly. "We are home, Bobby." She prayed she'd never regret making the decision.

Surprise lit his eyes then he frowned. "But you hate it here, Terri."

Terri nodded. "As much as Eric hates it here. But, Bobby, I love you. I'm staying here with you." Her fingers stroked lightly down his scruffy cheek; it had been days since the teen had been able to shave.

At that, Bobby pulled away and set her on the ground, standing as abruptly. "Don't do this, Terri." He turned miserable eyes on her. "I did what I came to do. Now we can go. . ."

"Well, since we can't make up our own minds," she stood, her voice as harsh as Bobby's, "let someone else make our decision. Eric." She whirled around to the black-haired Cavalier with the bandaged head. "You always hated this place. What do you plan to do?"

Bobby shook his head. "You can't put this choice on him, Terri."

"I'm staying," Eric turned around, black-brown eyes serious, intense. "I promised Uni I'd help her break the curse. I'm not leaving until she's happy." He shrugged as if there could be no other choice, ignoring the surprise everyone else displayed at Eric's concern for the former unicorn. As far as they recalled, he barely tolerated Uni - - of course, that had been six years ago - - before Eric and Uni had been forced to rely on each other for survival with no one else to help them.

Terri looked back at Bobby. "See? If even Eric is going to stay, why shouldn't I?"

"But. . ."

She touched his cheek again. "Bobby, that last vision was truly beautiful. I've only had one other prophecy I've liked and that was when you came back to me." She dropped her hand to clasp his. "I want to control this ability. I want to have less nightmares and more wonderful visions." Her eyes locked with his. "I can't learn that at home."

Finally, Bobby nodded his head. Softly, he said, "Okay. We stay. And," he looked at the others, "maybe this Heart's Unity will know how to change Uni back to a unicorn. We can go with you guys on this quest."

Uni nodded, smiling widely, oddly large maroon eyes shining in her pale face. "Airk?" she looked at her longtime companion. "We can help Diana and Presto."

"It's a good place to start," Eric nodded, his eyes trailing to the others. "What about you guys?"

Ayisha grabbed for Presto's hand. "Albert, I will stay with my father and my people. When you get back, we will rejoice."

The Magician gently touched one finger to the princess's cheek. "That's great. I'll look forward to the feast after we heal Ramuud and Dekion." His golden eyes held Ayisha's brown ones for a long moment.

"I'll stay with Mother and Father," Varla interrupted, though she, too, hadn't yet taken her grey eyes from Presto. 'Can he be right? Can we really be twins?' He couldn't have known about the purple and black scar across her lower back - - the bond scar. "You will be careful?"

Presto drew his eyes from Ayisha and offered a smile to the red-haired Illusionist. "Of course," he rasped then flushed at the obvious results of his 'being careful.' He had to let his throat heal completely; he just had too much to say it seemed.

Sir Timothy turned to Hank, his companion for the last several months. "I will stay with the wounded. They'll need protection."

Hank put a hand on the Knight's shoulder and nodded. He turned to Sheila and softly said, "Sheila?"

The Thief reached over and gently took the Ranger's hand. "If you go, I will. If you stay, so will I." Like Bobby, she had offered the choice to someone else. Unlike her little brother, she smiled, her manner confident. She knew that she wouldn't mind whatever choice the man made.

As he always had, Hank considered all the options. Slowly, as sure as Sheila, he nodded once. "The quest. We'll help our friends." He was rewarded by Sheila's bright smile.

"It is time, My Friends." Dungeon Master walked into the circle of Champions. "The fallen are to be honored."

Everyone looked surprised at the small, ancient mage. Slowly, as the meaning of his words sank in, they turned and headed into the copse of trees, heading to the funeral rites of Sir John, Freddie, Dekion's warbird, and several others. No one spoke as they left the two mages behind.

"Was that wise, My Son?" The aged magician continued watching after the retreating figures.

Venger frowned softly. "They needed to be sure of their hearts, Father. Every moment they spend in our Realm draws them further from their return." He turned his dark gaze on the smaller man. "A time will come when they will no longer be able to leave the Realm."

Dungeon Master turned wise old teal eyes upon the younger mage. "The test you devised. . ."

"You have often tested them in the past," Venger cut in. "Riddles and puzzles and trials - - this was merely another."

Shaking his head, the elderly mage looked back to the group as they headed into the copse of trees. "Learning tests, teaching riddles, yes. However, Venger, manipulation is not the same as a riddle."

The tall mage frowned and curled his hands into his robes, not enjoying the feeling of being a chastised pupil once more. Almost sounding defensive, he said "they made the choice they were ever meant to make, Father. They saw beyond the smoke and flames to the soul of the choice. The outcome is correct."

"Ah, but the journey is as important as the destination, My Son." Dungeon Master shook his head sadly. "Trust once broken is doubly hard to repair." Looking up at Venger, the Dungeon Master lowered his voice, almost to that of an afterthought, and said, "you still have much to learn, Young One."

Shock flashed over Venger's face as his father turned and headed back into the large healing tent.

xxx

Continued in Chapter Two: Reminiscences