Chapter 8

Elf, ye talk too much

"That's impossible!" Y'vair objected. "Unless he managed to get negation stones.but if he's as close as Windspear, I should have felt something."

"Windspear is quite far away," Yoshimo pointed out. "Several day's journey by a good horse."

Everyone looked perfectly happy to continue arguing, so Nalia and Hendak, at that point, excused themselves to the Copper Coronet to check on the knights and the children. They had kept their word to the group, after all.

"Yoshimo, the Prime Material Plane is made of magic. Any creature whose existence is technically magical and is birthed on this Plane would be able to feel a negation stone when it's moving. The very Plane itself shrinks away from its presence. Such creatures might not recognize the sensation, and it might be extremely slight, but I can - I've been near one before."

"He is immune to magic," the old mage repeated. "Go there and ask him, if you will. His name is Arundel - tell him that this year's winter might come early."

"I'm sure he'd be interested to hear that," Y'vair said impatiently, "But."

"Then he'd know I sent you."

John thought that was one of the less imaginative codes he'd heard of so far, but he kept his opinion to himself.

"Okay." They pried Arundel's description from the mage, exactly where his encampment was, and other details, such as the fact that the forty 'mercenaries' were dwarves, something that seemed to surprise Yoshimo until Y'vair pointed out the racial obsession dwarves had with gold. The mage was getting rather nervous about talking to them, and claimed he could not reveal his name in case the Cowled Wizards decided to question them.

Yoshimo shook his head when they were on their way to the Copper Coronets to restock supplies and get some rest, the panther muttering to itself behind them about the dirt on the cobblestones. "Is it just me, or does he seem to resemble a certain girl of our mutual acquaintance on some elemental level pertaining to attitude?"

Y'vair snorted, also aware of the need to be vague in case of spies. "If not for the fact that he's probably right about the others, I'd never have approached him. I don't need amber lynx gems that much."

"I told you we could find another dealer," Yoshimo said. "Now.the Copper Coronet?"

"We might like to try and buy some potions first," Entreri suggested.

"The arm still aches?"

"A little." Entreri had attempted to try and heal the werewolf way, which was to change shape and change back. Somehow the wolf took the pain away - if it wasn't too much of an injury. It hadn't worked, and he had admitted that he'd only been recently turned and so wasn't really familiar with what werewolves could do and what they couldn't do, something that seemed to worry Y'vair. Apparently recently turned werewolves were unstable - something about certain wolf-sides trying to fight for dominion of the shape first, and both sides having to make peace with each other before the werewolf in question could function 'normally'. Entreri had promised, with an absolutely straight face, that he would refrain from eating any of them.

"We need to buy some more rations anyway," Y'vair shrugged. "Yoshimo, you're the thief. You take care of the buying."

"I'm a thief, not a merchant," Yoshimo corrected with a smile, but he led their way towards Waukeen's Promenade.

"Aren't they the same thing?" John asked.

"A thief steals under cover, but a merchant steals in plain sight," Yoshimo pointed out. "There's a world of difference."

Y'vair rolled her eyes theatrically up to the sky. "Don't argue with them, sparrow," she said dryly, "Thieves have something fundamentally lacking in their personality. They might decide to argue you back and forth on this point for days. I once argued with a thief on whether assassins were actually a type of thief for two weeks."

"Assassins are assassins," Entreri stated, "And thieves are thieves. Though some assassins know thieving skills - lockpicking is very useful, and some thieves know how to kill surprisingly well. Being able to kill efficiently is a survival skill for anything that lives on the Sword Coast."

"Assassins steal life under cover," Y'vair argued. "Thieves just steal other things."

"Can we stop arguing about this?" Yoshimo was looking around nervously. "Mentioning those words together in the same sentence here in Athkatla attracts attention."

"Hmph." Y'vair snorted, but shut up. Athkatla was in the midst of a guild war amongst thieves, and Yoshimo was probably right.

**

After restocking they sauntered out of the gate. John's magic kicked in eventually, as if reluctantly, when they'd walked for an hour and Y'vair was beginning to hint that he should try harder, on the dusty caravan path to Trademeet that they were following to find themselves on a gravel one.

The tree cover was sparse now, though it didn't really look natural - after a few minutes they came across one copse that explained why - it was charred black, and the rocks around it for a five metre radius were smooth and deformed, looking for all the world like frozen gray water. Melted.

"By the gods," Yoshimo breathed, as he examined the remains of a boulder that had probably towered ten feet in the air before having encountered a dragon's breath. Several suspicious smudges and charred fragments suggested that some creatures had stupidly tried to make a last stand. "John Constantine.are you sure you wish to do this?"

"Right now I'm reconsidering that," John said sourly, with a sidelong glance at Entreri that Yoshimo and Y'vair saw but the assassin, as luck would have it, did not. Y'vair nodded her agreement and Yoshimo paled a little - John had silently but eloquently pointed out that if they attempted to back out of this now, Entreri might just decide to use his sword and dagger to drive them along.

Entreri seemed oblivious - he was sniffing the air, a gesture that looked rather ludicrous, but of which John was not about to mock, since Entreri was in a sword's range of his neck. However, the panther padded a little closer to John and nudged his leg with a wet nose in warning, in case his mouth decided to get the better of his survival instinct.

"Relax," John mouthed at it. It sniffed derisively, conveying its low opinion of John's sense of self-preservation. John rolled his eyes at it, and it pretended to bite John's hand, great teeth snapping silently shut just an inch away, then it rasped the back of his hand with a rough sandpaper tongue.

"That's rather unnerving to watch, isn't it?" Yoshimo observed to Y'vair.

"I'd say," she agreed. "But knowing our sparrow there, who knows what else he consorts with?"

"There's someone ahead," Entreri said, before John could frame a suitable retort. "Five horses and men in full plate. Paladins, perhaps."

"You can smell that? I can't see anything," Yoshimo squinted down the road. There were some specks far away.

"Please," Entreri said with a pained look, "We're downwind from there, and full plate has a certain.fragrance. Horses as well. Combine the two and."

"We can discuss that later," John interrupted. "So, what do we do about it?"

Y'vair quickly pulled the hood over her horns and draped her cloak tightly around her to conceal her tail. "That, firstly," she said wryly, her face in shadow.

"Knights on horses look impressive, and most of them have lances and broadswords. If you avoid being impaled on a lance, that's the first problem down." Yoshimo commented.

"Try to push them off the horse," Entreri suggested, "With all that metal, they'd be a little stunned when they fall off. At that time try to stick a knife between their plates. They'd probably be wearing chain mail underneath it, so you'd have to do it rather hard - or maybe stab them through the mouth."

Even John shuddered a little at the matter-of-fact way Entreri described the way to deal with a paladin.

"The horses would be trouble," Yoshimo said, frowning, "I've seen them before - they're trained for battle, iron-shod hooves. They'd smash in your heads if you let them. They may not be afraid of wolves either," he told Entreri.

"Wolves, but not werewolves," Entreri said simply. "This is, of course, if they fight," he added when he saw Y'vair rolling her eyes at them. "What?"

"Men. Why is your first response always killing?"

"We're just speculating, luv," John said mildly. They were getting closer.

"Those aren't knights," Y'vair said, blinking. "Entreri?"

In front of them were a group of creatures, five of them - two ogre mages, a troll, and, John noted with a sinking feeling, two umber hulks.

"I don't suppose you have more cloudkill spells, luv?" he asked Y'vair.

"This close, sparrow? Would you like to die with them?"

"They're not monsters," Entreri said stubbornly, "They smell like humans on horses. All of them. And I've encountered ogre mages, trolls and umber hulks - half of those thanks to you lot - and they do not smell anywhere near this."

"An illusion then?" Yoshimo asked curiously. "I have seen illusions before."

"This is a very good one, then," Y'vair said doubtfully, "I have a dispel illusion spell. Let's hope it works."

"The dragon's work?" Yoshimo noted, as they stopped walking. The knights noticed them, and approached cautiously.

"Unless knights on this world like to make themselves look like monsters," John raised a hand. "All right, that's enough."

The knights stopped. The illusion was certainly very good, and very detailed - even the shadow cast on the ground was appropriate to the shape.

"You have seen the sun for the last time, foul ogre," one of them, disguised as an ogre-mage, said. Even the speech was the snarling, harsh tongue of its illusion-shape. "Henceforth you - and your evil companions' - sojourn on the lands of the people will end - by the blades of our swords!"

"They sound like knights, all right," Yoshimo said, notching an arrow to his bow just in case.

Y'vair, at that point, released her spell with a triumphant syllable, and there was a bright flash around them, and around the 'monsters'. The images eroded off quickly, wavering like mirages in extreme heat, then disappeared, to reveal five belligerent, confused knights on large chargers.

"What.what magic is this?" one of the knights demanded.

"You look much better as knights than ogres and umber hulks," Y'vair observed. "Someone - I suspect the dragon in this area - put a spell on everything in the area, perhaps."

Some of the knights looked suspicious at this, but the apparent leader rode slightly to the front. "Perhaps 'tis so, lady - my companions and I have observed many monsters on this road that called us ogres and trolls, but we thought that the words were but the normal prerequisite insults before a battle."

"They must have observed very sharply," Y'vair murmured, glancing at the drawn swords.

"Very pointed conclusions," Yoshimo agreed with an absolutely straight face, with a wink at the lowered lances.

The knights turned as one to stare at Y'vair, and she touched the hood of her cloak belatedly. During the spellcasting it had fallen back to reveal her horns.

"Demon!" One of them gasped.

Y'vair sighed deeply. "I don't suppose you've heard of the Bard Y'vair Cirrhal?" she ventured. "Or are we going to proceed to kill each other?"

"Y'vair." one knight frowned, then brightened. "Oh, I recall now. My sister once went to watch one of your performances, and she found it most beautiful. But how can you prove you are who you claim you are?"

Y'vair muttered darkly under her breath. "Damn. I suppose I can sing something."

The impromptu performance that followed was a rather melancholic song in some musical language that Yoshimo reverently - and softly - identified as High elvish. Her voice was at times rich and poignant, and at times high and pure, again, John decided with the last vestiges of thought that remained in his head as all other thinking was driven out by exquisite song - like the voice of an angel. The music pulled at them on some fundamental level, almost insidiously, clearing their minds and filling it in turn with images of peace - though admittedly in John's case this was slightly difficult. He understood now how all those pictures he'd seen before of bards playing in the circle of entranced animals both savage and otherwise could have actually been true.

When she finished, some hollow sniffling sounds from the knights showed that some of them were actually weeping openly.

"It is an honor to meet you, Lady Y'vair. What is your business here? I am bound by duty to warn you that there is a dragon hereabouts that would greatly inconvenience you and your companions if you were to meet it," the knight asked, voice awed, raising his visor to reveal a rather youthful face. The other knights did the same, showing that they were all just about in their twenties or so. Their eyes displayed a rather unnerving lack of intelligence through the mist of tears. Perhaps it was all that armor.

"The dragon has something we want," Yoshimo said, "And we're going to get it."

"Ah, treasure-hunting," the knight said dismissively, "There is an encampment of your sort northeastwards of here."

"What are you doing here, then?" John asked dryly.

"The dragon is a great evil that must be dispatched," the knight declared, "We wait for others from our Order - and together we will fall upon the wicked wurm and rid the world of its existence." The others nodded their assent.

"Interesting," Y'vair mused, "Are you from the Order of the Radiant Heart?"

"It is our honor to be, Lady."

"The Order has been in Athkatla for a while - and the dragon has been in Windspear even longer. Why attack now?"

"The Godless one has asked for assistance - the dragon has, of late, woken from fitful slumber to pillage the villages around it, and the Godless one - despite his many faults - has kept the villages under his protection for a while, and would fight the dragon for them." The expression on the knight's open face was a curious mixture of disapproval and admiration.

"The Godless one is involved in this?" Y'vair asked curiously. "Hmm. But if the dragon attacked any of his villages, I suppose so."

"He gathered some mercenaries - the treasure hunters - with the promise of gold to aid in the attack," the knight said, "We arrived earlier from Trademeet, and wait for our brethren from the motherhouse in Athkatla. If you would aid us - go henceforth to the encampment." The knight seemed to have forgotten his disdain of 'treasure-hunters' earlier on, fully caught up in his speech. "We will meet all of you there anon when reinforcements arrive."

"Interesting," Y'vair said once they walked out of earshot. "Can it be that the Godless one and the mage's friend are one and the same? But I hadn't heard of any immunity to magic."

"Unless there are two groups of treasure-hunters," Yoshimo said. "But I think the knights may have mentioned it."

"Knights don't really possess a normal degree of intelligence."

"They would have mentioned it," John observed sardonically, "If just to prolong the speech."

"Well.we'd see." Y'vair looked around. The landscape was mostly of gentle gradient, with the occasional group of rocks jutting out of it. To the far west there was a large domed landform, perhaps larger than two of Waukeen's Promenade. The rock was dark gray, and there were odd-shaped structures in front of it that looked like many ossified, whitened fingers, stretched painfully up to the soft blue bowl of the sky.

"The dragon's cave?" Entreri pointed.

"I'd think so," Y'vair said, "Those look like ruins in front of it."

"What a depressing thought," Yoshimo sighed. "I don't suppose I can talk us out of this?"

"Bit late now, mate," John glanced involuntarily at the large domed rock again. "Just who is this Godless one? Another paladin?"

"That's an open topic of debate in several areas," Y'vair said as they strolled along, "He's been around for a while - a century or so, I think. You can't really tell with elves. Wandering around this part of the Sword Coast. Has an absolute mania for building schools that teach peasant children to reading, writing, rudimentary defense skills, a background of Faerun, and such. Adults.well, if they're farmers he teaches them better agricultural systems and so on. Basic things to improve their standards of living."

"He sells his services as a mercenary to the highest bidder - frankly he's seen as rather amoral, so long as no one tries to interfere with the villages under his wing. The schools don't teach morals - they teach choice between morals, and freedom. Some politician decided once that the teachings were blasphemous, or something, then tried to take steps. Soldiers showed up at all of the villages he was protecting to try and burn down the schools - and all of a sudden were beset by all sorts of monsters that drove them off. The villages helped."

"Things were all set up for a general civil war, until the Shadow Thieves decided to take steps. They made the politician withdraw the troops, and leave the schools alone. It's been a tacit treaty ever since to stay out of his way."

"A hundred years?" John grasped.

"He's an elf." Yoshimo said, "A mixture of gold and moon elves. 'Pure' gold and moon elves avoid him - there's quite a bit of prejudice in elven society, righteous and enlightened as they're supposed to be."

"An elf wearing something heavier than chain mail?" Entreri looked skeptical.

"He makes his own armor," Y'vair commented. "And his horse."

"Don't you mean his horse's armor?" Entreri corrected.

"No," Y'vair smiled. "His horse is a equine-shaped golem."

"Then he's a mage?" Entreri looked even more confused.

"That's the part I don't understand either," Y'vair admitted. "It's quite possible he got a mage to make it for him, but I'd like to know what he paid the mage to make that for him. It's not stone or clay, but steel."

"An adamantite blend with traces of platinum, titanium and mithril, actually," an urbane voice said to their right. The party turned sharply to see an elf step out of one of those sporadic copses of trees that dotted the landscape.

He was of average height for an elf - slightly shorter than Y'vair, with eyes gray as river-washed pebbles, twinkling as though suppressing some immense joke that only he could comprehend. Hair that looked like molten silver tumbled down to his shoulders, where from the looks of it, it had been hacked off from there with a knife. The silvery curtain framed a bronze-skinned, sensitive face with a typically small chin. Like most male elves, he was handsome to the point of being pretty, but for elven standards, was not remarkably handsome. Slender ears peeped out of the curtain of hair, tapering to an elf's delicate points. He wore full plate armor of rather unconventional design, wrought of some unidentifiable black metal, ornamented with symbols traced in steel, that did not seem to form any sort of pattern or picture at all, a chaotic swirl of thin metal lines.

Over his armor he wore a surcoat of blue so pale as to be nearly white, and his heavy cloak was of the same hue. It looked rather blinding on the black armor. His broadsword hung in a scabbard by his side, the hilt wrapped tightly in strips of soft leather. On the other hip was a heavy crossbow, a weapon that looked rather out of place on him. It was built of blued steel, and looked quite deadly - a crossbow bolt could punch through full plate armor with ease. There was the required pouch for the crossbow bolts, travel-worn and dusty.

"A mutual friend wishes you to know that this year's winter might come early," John told him. "Come up with better passwords next time."

The elf winced. "Ah.that was not my idea. That mutual friend of ours spends most of his considerable free time reading badly-written romances."

"Adamantite? On the surface world?" Entreri raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't it."

"I found a blend that prevented the disintegration," the elf said with a happy grin.

"You found a blend? Didn't a mage make it for you?" Y'vair asked, astonished.

"Oh no, who would make a golem for someone else, especially a non- human shaped golem? I had to do it myself," the elf made a face. "You can't believe how long I took to do it."

"But you're not a mage!"

"I am an elf," he said simply. "And besides, I didn't use magic to make it. It took me at least fifty years to finish the thing though - had to get dwarves to help me with the forging of metal, and all that."

The party blinked. Fifty years.but that was not a lot of time to an elf. And not magic? But before Y'vair could ask, Arundel had rambled on again.

"My name - the one I use most often anyway - is Arundel. What's yours?" There seemed to be some sort of irrepressible enthusiasm about the elf - the sort of enthusiasm of either the innately innocent or those high on drugs.

"I am called John Constantine," John began.

"Ah, so you're the group that came out to Waukeen's Promenade," Arundel smiled. He did not notice the panther. "You must be Yoshimo - I've been to Kara-Tur before. Interesting place."

"An elf in Kara-Tur?" Yoshimo blinked. Arundel responded by speaking in a musical tongue that sounded suspiciously like Japanese. Yoshimo blinked again, then replied, and bowed fluidly. Arundel bowed as well, the graceful ritual seeming as out of place as he was in his armor.

"And this must be Y'vair Cirrhal, the famous bard." Arundel bowed to Y'vair, armor creaking. Y'vair smiled at him, rather flattered. Arundel looked curiously at Entreri.

"My name is Jasek," Entreri said smoothly.

Arundel raised an eyebrow. "Truly? I was in Calimport some years past, and I do believe I heard description of a man with a jeweled dagger - quite like yours - and his description matches you as well. His name was Artemis Entreri, friend to K'yanae whom, if I'm not wrong, was companion to these people until that confrontation in Waukeen's Promenade."

Entreri shrugged then, giving up. "That is also one of my names."

Arundel flashed another of his charming grins. "I'm glad that's settled, then. As it happens, I do know where they've taken your friend - but I'd rather tell you in private."

"We thank you, then." Yoshimo said when he saw John was not about to respond. Could this Arundel be trusted? His manner was most genial, but his eyes were keenly sharp, darting from face to face, as if waiting for a certain sort of reaction from them, afraid that they had guessed something about him. But what was it?

"I have one question," Y'vair frowned. "Is your nickname true?"

"Which one? 'Tinned elven bastard' isn't really, as far as I know, and."

"I meant 'Godless one'," Y'vair chuckled. "Professional curiosity. I'm a bard, and technically a mage can't wear the full plate - it's too restricting for spellcasting - and I thought only a full cleric would be able to summon creatures to protect others."

"Oh, that," Arundel waved a gauntleted hand dismissively. "It's not true. I follow a god - a relatively lesser-known one, but I choose not to make it common knowledge. And I'm not a paladin in the precise sense of the word, anyway." He gestured theatrically at his pointed ears. "It drives the full paladins crazy," he confided with a smirk. "Now, let's go dragon hunting, shall we?"

"The mage said you were immune to magic," Yoshimo said quickly. "How?"

"This one needs some explanation - I'd show you when we get back to the encampment." So saying, he strolled away. The party glanced at each other, then John shrugged. What else could they do? There were some suspicious things about Arundel - especially the fact that he didn't admit which god he followed - but they didn't have any other choice - unless they decided to go attack the red dragon all by themselves.

The encampment was an orderly affair of stakes and a high wood fence. When asked about why they used wood in a dragon-ruled area, Arundel had replied that in the face of red dragon fire, whether they used wood or stone made not a whit of difference, and wood was easier to erect. It apparently worked just as well with the occasional band of monsters that the dragon sent out to attack the encampment.

The high gate was guarded by two dwarves, red beards bristling as they approached, then relaxing when they noticed Arundel. The large battle- axes that all dwarves seemed to carry was polished until it gleamed, though there were a few nicks on the blades, as though there had been a recent attack and these dwarves hadn't had time to go smooth them out yet. The gate was open, just enough for them to enter and for the guards to retreat if anything came, but not wide enough such that it would be difficult to close on a moment's notice. There were several siege weapons - the sort that fires large trunk-thick versions of crossbow bolts at great speed and force - which probably explained why the dragon hadn't thought of coming to burn it down.

Oddly enough, the inside of the encampment appeared just as orderly as the outside - something that Y'vair remarked on.

"That's easy," Arundel shrugged. "All the 'mercenaries' those knights you must have met on the road that I have are dwarves. The humans that approached me made my stomach turn - given any chance at all; they'd betray us when the dragon's dead. At least the dwarves are willing to keep to deals, if they like you. And dwarves keep neat camps. Must be something lacking in their personality," he raised his voice slightly, as a dwarf with a slightly more ornate helmet and a mithril axe stumped out in front of them.

"What're ye doin' wanderin' out all by yerself into the countryside without yer horse, ye stupid elf? Ye could'ha met the stupid dragon!" the dwarf lost no time in shouting. Other dwarves stopped whatever they were doing to watch, with barely concealed grins - apparently this was rather common. The dwarves seemed to be an even mix of females and males - with some clerics.

"I knew where I was going, Clurgan," Arundel said mildly. "This is Clurgan," he introduced the furious dwarf to the rest of the group, "More widely known as the mother of this encampment than as leader of the clan Ironhammer, which I still don't understand, since I haven't seen anyone carrying an iron hammer around."

"Elf, ye talk too much," Clurgan growled. "Iff'n not fer the fact that without ye and yer horse we ain't goin' to kill the dragon, I wouldn't care if ye got eaten up by hobgoblins - if they kin get ye to shut up long enough to get et!"

"You break my heart, Clurgan," Arundel pressed a gauntleted hand on his breastplate theatrically.

"He nivver shuts up," Clurgan groused aloud to the rest of his clan. They nodded solemnly, grinning at Arundel.

"I'm hurt," he protested.

"Good," Clurgan told him, then eyed the party. "Who are these lot? Takin' in adventurers already?"

"They'd be useful," Arundel said, "The lady Y'vair is a bard - so our problem about spells has been solved."

"Whatever," Clurgan turned and began to walk off. "If ye think they kin be trusted, that's yer problem. Their share's comin' outa yers, though."

Arundel looked slightly pained as he faced the group. "Ah, I'd forgotten about that. These representatives from Clurgan's clan have a share of the gold. Technically the paladins are joining us in the name of right and honor, or what have you, so they're not going to get paid much - but what are you here for?"

"The Dark Sighing.and as to the rest.we can discuss this." Yoshimo beamed, showing that at the heart of every thief was a merchant who got more unscrupulous than usual.

Arundel sighed. "Don't bankrupt me, though - I need the money from this enterprise to open up a few more schools. Right - step into this tent here, and I'd tell you a little about what we're going to do - though the bulk of it will have to wait until the knights get here."

Inside a relatively higher tent, obviously for humanoids taller than dwarves, was plain furniture - a pile of fabric in a corner for a bed, a table and some chairs, spare weapons and the equipment needed for maintaining them, scrolls, and an unrolled map on the table weighted down neatly by two daggers. The only ornate thing in the entire tent was what appeared to be a life-sized metal statue of a war-horse, deathly still next to the bed, except for the metal slits that seemed to be its eyes, which glowed a subdued teal green.

The golem, as it appeared, was a masterwork of art, perfectly forged out of dark metal traced with silver mithril lines in designs that looked like elaborations of the one on Arundel's armor. There was a sheen of deep blue on the metal, cold highlights that also glinted off two ears pricked forward as if in alert, and down metal, muscled legs that had no joints whatsoever to suggest that the statue could actually move. The hooves were shod in mithril, and each one had two large blood-red rubies embedded in them, or something that closely resembled the precious stone. The saddle was part of the horse itself, though it was padded comfortably with wine- dark velvet cushions, and it had hooks at the end for saddlebags, apparently. The black, long tail and mane looked like horsehair, but was too silky to be it. There was no bridle, on the golem or in sight.

Arundel wandered up to it, reached up and patted it affectionately on the forelock. It turned its head to regard him with the glowing eyes - not with the jerky robotic movements that John had been expecting, but with a sort of boneless grace that was just as unnatural. "This is the reason why I'm immune to magic," Arundel said, stroking its mane. The golem regarded the party with teal eyes.

"I don't see - or feel - any negation stones on it," Y'vair said, frowning, "But there's something odd."

"It's not made by magic, or of magic," Arundel said, chewing his lip thoughtfully. "It's a bit hard to explain.the closest term I can think of is that it's made of Science."

"What?" Y'vair blinked.

"Every world is a balance of a lot of things," Arundel seemed to be choosing his words with care, as if trying to explain the concept of Relativity to a three-year-old. "There's good and evil, chaos and order, and so on. It also has science and magic. On this world, the balance has tipped in favor of magic. Worlds where it's tipped in favor of science develop very quickly technologically - usually in the space of a few thousand years, and worlds where it hasn't can subsist on the same technological level for the same number of years. Magic stunts technological growth - science stunts the growth of the arcane."

The elf looked up to glazed faces and grinned sheepishly. "I knew you lot wouldn't understand that. Anyway, to cut it short, I found a way of letting science into this world. Pure science is rather like magic, except that it works on the principles that if something is technically possible, then it can be done, so if you twist in a little, the many technically possible things can make up a large thing that is fundamentally impossible but since it's made up of possible details, it works."

"To cut it short.?" John asked dryly, though he rather understood. The others didn't.but they didn't live in a world that was rather balanced between science and magic.

"Er yes, quite," Arundel looked mildly embarrassed. "It means that against all logic on this world, the 'golem', as it is known here, works without magic. And since it's made of, or with pure science, it's immune to magic - which doesn't exist in the face of science. Anything touching it shares in that immunity. As a demonstration, I would like to ask Y'vair to cast a spell at us." He put his hand on the neck of the golem.

Y'vair shrugged, and put out her hands, palms facing Arundel. Red globes of light - magic missiles - shot out, curving slightly in their trajectory, then appeared to hit Arundel and the golem - except that they dissipated abruptly before touching.

"There you go," Arundel smiled.

"But the dragon's fire." Yoshimo blinked.

"Doesn't affect me," Arundel said promptly. "I've tried that already."

"You attacked the dragon?" Y'vair asked curiously.

"Not really.it tried to attack the encampment again, but not from the air after one time a bolt punched through its wing - so from the ground. I rode out to meet it, and after it realized its fire couldn't touch me and my friend here - " he patted the golem, "was too fast to hit, he retreated in a huff."

A dwarf walked into the tent at that moment, and without preamble, stated, "Clurgan says the knights are here, if ye wants to get yer tinned arse out to meet them." Then he wandered off.

"Don't you just love dwarves?" Arundel grinned. "Right. I think I have to do this properly." He backed off a little, and the golem trotted behind him like an obedient dog - though its gait was impossibly smooth - the legs seemed to lengthen slightly as they stretched and shorten slightly as they touched ground under the body - such that any rider wouldn't suffer the rocking gait of a true horse.

Outside, Arundel mounted the horse, and it trotted towards the gate, the party following.

"You don't need a bridle?" Entreri jerked his head at Arundel's free hands. The werewolf looked slightly uneasy in the presence of the golem, and no wonder - the heavy tread of the golem spoke of an ability to smash in a skull with a single kick. Something about the oiled way it moved also suggested that if it really needed to, it could be snake-quick.

"The golem is keyed to me," Arundel shrugged. "It knows where I want to go. It has a bit of myself in it, after all."

At their blank stares, the elf grinned boyishly and elaborated. "I put a bit of my soul into my armor, my sword, my crossbow and this thing - so they're keyed to me and won't work for any other - on they other hand, they all work a lot better for me. That's one reason why I'm trying to kill the dragon - it has my sword. This one's just a mere steel replacement."

Before they could ask any more questions, they had reached the gate and the mass of dwarves peering out from behind it. Outside were twenty knights, including Ajantis and company. They seemed to ignore the dwarves, but stared at Arundel with a mixture of curiosity and preconceived antipathy.

One of the knights, or paladins, or whatever this world chose to call them - nudged his horse forward, and he raised his visor to show a grizzled face lined with age. "Greetings to the Godless One from the Order of the Radiant Heart," he said formally.

Arundel's golem carried him forward out of the gate, where it stopped, unmoving. "Greetings to the Order of the Radiant Heart," he said just as formally, "I thank you for pledging your aid."

"It is our duty to protect and serve the innocent and weak," the leader declared, "And the dragon is a foul abomination in the eyes of the world. Let us join our forces, and will ye, nil ye, even the Gates of Hell cannot stand before us."

Arundel suddenly grinned. "I like that line."

The leader returned his smile. "You should have. I spent the long journey here composing speeches. Do you want to hear the rest of it? Or the other possibilities?"

"The last time I said yes, I had to sit and listen to you for the better part of an hour," Arundel retorted. "I'd rather go in before the night welds me to my armor with the cold."

The leader laughed. "I've missed you, elf."

"My days have been bereft of light by your uncaring absence, Bayer," Arundel said dramatically. The dwarves sniggered behind him. "Come on. We're going to have a council of war - unless you people want to go and pray to Helm for a few hours, if not we'd make our decisions then tell you afterwards."

Some of the younger knights gasped at this apparent insult, but Bayer merely smirked. "Or we could have the council with the dwarves while you go and dance to the moon and worship whatever heathen deity you claim to follow with strange and obscure elven rites. Knowing how you lot treat the idea of time, it might just take several centuries."

"I give, I give," Arundel held up his hands in mock surrender. "Welcome to my humble camp." He made a sweeping gesture that encompassed the area.

"Humble, Arundel? You? I do hope you're feeling well."

--

Little Notes and References:

Science and Magic: Just something I thought up while in the bathroom. Quite a few ideas crop up in there...I wonder why. Heh.