Title: A Breakthrough

Author: Sam

Series: The Never-ending Story 25 / 33

Rating: PG-13: language/ imagery

Setting: Autumn 1992: The Realm of Dungeons & Dragons

Characters & Ages: Bobby- 17 going on 18; Lorne- 21; Kosar- 25 going on 26; Ramuud- adult; Marinda- adult; Jaref- adult; Amber- adult

Summary: Bobby finds a new purpose in his old task. Kosar, too, finds new purpose.

Feedback: Please? I love comments.

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The heat seemed bad but nothing he hadn't dealt with during his time in the Realm before. Early autumns were hot back home, too, though this heat seemed hotter than any on Earth. But he could handle the heat. Hunger was a problem that bothered him less than the heat - - if he could keep busy. He'd missed meals all the time while working so obsessively on his notebooks. But now he only trudged over the hot, scorched land trying not to think of air conditioning, ice cream, and cool lemonade. That was the big problem: the lack of liquids. Water was more than scarce: it basically did not exist.

Bobby ran a dirty hand, grimy from miles of dust and sweat, through his limp blond hair under his dented horned helmet. He kept himself busy thinking ahead, trying to figure out where he could find the other Children of Power, but it didn't help to distract him from the hardships. Exhausted - - his mind wandered back to that old, familiar obsession with information. What he knew would be useful; he knew with certainty. This time he'd be able to do more than hit trees with his club and tell Sheila to stop babying him. A soft, rather odd-sounding sigh, more heard in the mind than with the ears, interrupted thoughts of his sister and the old days in the Realm. Bobby turned to glance over his two companions.

Kosar had been silent until his soft sigh draw Bobby out of the past. The older man looked almost wilted, even his eyes seemed less alert than usual. He had long since stopped trying to keep their spirits up, falling into an introspective silence punctuated by the very rare comment on the dead landscape.

As for their other companion Lorne seemed affected by the heat even worse than Kosar. His habitual sarcasm and complaints hadn't been heard in over an hour, and Bobby occasionally let himself worry about the dark-haired Gypsy. The bandage on Lorne's head should have been changed ages ago, but they didn't have the supplies or the water to cleanse away the accumulated blood and dirt.

"Hey, Lorne, you still breathing?" Bobby asked, attempting to draw the other man out. If Lorne walked he definitely breathed, but his silence was worrying. Bobby preferred Lorne snarky to withdrawn.

The Gypsy looked up from where he'd been carefully placing his feet one plodding step at a time. Seeing both his companions watching him in such concern, the twenty-one year old grunted and looked back down. "Still breathing." His voice sounded drained of energy.

Silence once more fell over the trio of voyagers. Almost ten minutes passed before Lorne raised his head again. "Hey, Bobby?"

The blond-haired Barbarian looked over and tried an exhausted grin. "Yeah?"

Lorne gestured with one hand around the cracked wasteland. "Where you taking us? The Wall of Souls?"

"Wall of Souls? What's that?" In all his travels Bobby had never encountered a Wall of Souls.

A shudder ran through the Gypsy. "A cursed place. The land is dead. There are no animals. There's no water. People go there to die. No one returns." He turned haunted eyes to Bobby and stopped walking. "I won't go there, Bobby."

Bobby frowned. "I wasn't - -" His voice trailed off. The Barbarian's eyes narrowed and he studied the horizon. The faint tinkling of bells rode the hot wind. With a yelp, Bobby called out, "be right back!" He took off running, renewed energy surging through him at what he had heard.

Kosar and Lorne frowned at each other and began to walk after the running youth.

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"Hail, Travelers!" Bobby waved an arm high, his club purposely held down in a non-threatening manner. "Please halt! I need to talk to you!" He hoped they wouldn't think him some deranged lunatic out to rob them or something.

A whistle signaled the caravan to comply with the request, and the animals and well-laden wagons slowed. As soon as the last beast stood placidly in its traces, a woman in brown slipped rather clumsily from a howdah. Two men, one bandaged on the upper body and face, followed her. Despite his injuries, the turbaned man was the most graceful of the trio.

Bobby let out a whoop when he realized who he'd stumbled upon. Despite the wear of years, the couple looked much the same. The clues of caravan and desert dress made the Barbarian hopeful he'd found a third friend from long ago. "Jaref! Marinda! Is that Ramuud?"

The bandaged man called back, "indeed, My Son. Come join us."

Grinning, Bobby halted next to the apprehensive Marinda. "It's me, Bobby. Sheila's brother. Behind me are Lorne and Kosar. We're looking for the other Children of Power." He swung his club casually over his shoulder, breathing hard from his sprint.

Jaref and Marinda exchanged a dark look, not lost on Bobby.

"What?" His voice turned serious; his smile disappeared.

"My Sons!" Ramuud greeted the other two men as they stopped before the group. He gestured painfully to Lorne, "you are injured." With a smile of welcome, he said, "Come, we will break for the midday meal and tell you all we know."

While Bobby wanted to demand answers right away, he had learned something of patience over the years waiting at home. He joined in helping the caravan set out protective tents to rest in as well as food and drink. When Marinda glanced over Lorne's dirty, bloody bandaged head with worried eyes, relief and pleasure made him glad he had kept his mouth shut. His friend really did need help.

Half an hour later, Bobby sank onto a cushion with a pleased groan; work was done and lunch could begin. Jaref handed the teen a bowl of food and a cup of cold water. Bobby smiled his gratitude. "Thanks, Jaref. How's Varla?" He glanced around the tent, missing Jaref's quick frown. "And I haven't seen Ayisha yet." Surprise coursed through him at the sight of the marigold-colored Faerie Dragon who glided in to sit by Kosar's cushion. "Amber?"

The dragon nodded once, but somehow she seemed strangely subdued.

Lorne snorted at Bobby's questions. He sipped his cool herbal water thankfully, absently noticing the lemon and clover taste, as Marinda began to soak his bandages with warm water to loosen them. He winced once during the procedure then grumbled a placating "I'm okay," as worry shot over her gentle face. It had been some years since he'd had the care of a kind woman; the Gypsy wasn't about to alienate this friend of Bobby's.

For his part, Kosar kept quiet as he drank and ate. He didn't know how these traveling folk would feel about his psionics, nott eager to push his luck. He knew Lorne was worse off than the younger man pretended; they all needed this break. Kosar also felt eager to hear any news they might have concerning the others.

Ramuud took a sip of his own herbal water, watching Bobby intently before finally speaking. "Albert said you went home, My Son." His voice held friendly curiosity, not censorship. He smiled at the puzzled looks from his two other guests; in time the men would learn his speech patterns, as everyone did who visited with the King of Kadeesh.

The seventeen year old blond nodded to Ramuud's subtle question. "I'm back. Dungeon Master wants us to gather the Children of Power for a war coming." His eyes narrowed as he saw Marinda and Jaref exchange another dark look. "We caught wind of Hank and Eric forming an army but haven't found them yet. Albert - - that's Presto, right? You've seen him recently?" Bobby leaned towards his host, hopeful of the answer.

"Yes," Marinda spoke softly. "He seemed well." She bit her lip and added, "except for a sore throat." The woman glanced at her host.

He nodded. "Yes," Ramuud said. "His throat was injured but will soon mend." The caravan leader, and desert king, looked over his three newest visitors. "Albert has lived with my people these past six years, My Son. A few hours ago, Albert and Ayisha went north to the Wall of Souls to help free one of my daughters."

The Gypsy shuddered at the mention of the cursed area.

Straightening, Bobby stated in a low, serious voice, "explain, please." His blue eyes met Ramuud's brown.

Jaref took up the narrative. "Six years ago, the Dungeon Master sent the Children of Power to various places in the Realm where they were needed or could learn. Albert was sent to Kadeesh to perfect his magic."

"Which he has done well at," Ramuud's pride showed in his voice.

Jaref grunted, shooting the other man a quelling look. "Sheila came to Marinda and me." He looked like he weighed his words then added, "Varla went north also, to help free - - " he looked Bobby straight in the eyes and finished "your sister, Sheila."

Bobby jumped to his feet with an inarticulate cry. His stomach clenched and a wave of ice cold nausea threatened to overwhelm him.

The older man continued. "She was captured by King Varen and sent to the Wall of Souls."

Lorne shuddered again and signed a Gypsy protection ward over himself.

Standing slowly, Ramuud placed a bandaged hand on Bobby's shoulder. "I will provision you and get you directions, My Son." He knew the young Barbarian would rush off to save his beloved sister. "It would be wisest if Lorne stays here to heal." Ramuud bowed his head a bit to the twenty-one year old still being tended.

Kosar spoke for the first time, his mind voce bringing shocked looks from the three elders. "I, too, will stay here. Unarmed I will be of little use to Bobby." He looked at the youngest man. "You'll move quicker without me, I think."

The Barbarian nodded and hefted his club, thankful that his friends would be safe. "As soon as we can, Ramuud, I'm going after Sheila."

With a grim nod, Ramuud and Bobby set off to get supplies. The other four exchanged worried looks as they continued eating. Jaref unrolled their many stolen scrolls in another attempt to translate some meaning from them. Curiously, Kosar glanced over the papers as well, interested to note star charts among the other scraps of miss-sorted information. Marinda finally unwound the last bandage on Lorne's head then gasped in shock as she revealed the lacerations throughout his scalp. IAll could see that the Gypsy would be staying with Ramuud's caravan for the foreseeable future; it was a wonder he'd made it that far.

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A heavy feeling in his chest, Ramuud watched yet another young person head off to the infested lands in the northwest. He had supplied the Barbarian with rations, water, rope, and other necessities in a shoulder pack, but still Ramuud felt the boy wasn't as prepared as he could be. Even the borrowed brown trousers and tunic Bobby now sported under his leather harness seemed little protection from the coming ordeal.

Ramuud prayed Bobby would catch up to Ayisha and Albert - - and maybe even Varla - - and not have to face the undead on his own. The man well knew that no one man could fight the undead host alone. The desert king hoped he hadn't just sent the brave young man to his death.

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Continued in Chapter Twenty-Six: Coming Together