Chapter 7.

By Carycomic

THE PLANET ZEIST

As Coucou the Pookha charged down the hill at full gallop in his equine state, his rider noticed several things almost simultaneously.

First of all, the turtle/pig/ape things wore helmets and breast plates of rusty patchwork armor. That is; except for the blue sigil composed of three concentric circles indelibly inked on each breast plate. And with each of these creatures armed with some kind of halberd that they were doing their level best to try and impale their assailants upon.

Secondly; their assailants, who resembled werewolves with leopard-spotted coats, were armed with shields made from fire-hardened-and-polished wood and one-handed broadswords made from nickel-plated steel.

Last but not least? She saw that the turtle/pig/ape things seemed to be losing with the LSW's gradually drawing additional strength from those deaths. Also, the black-bearded dwarf was the only one seemingly able to knock them aside with any lethal skull-cracking proficiency.

Giving forth with a neigh loud enough to deafen all human ears save those of his rider, Coucou collided with the first group of LSW's like a living battering ram. His rider leaping out of the saddle to impale both of her silver hunting swords into the back of the nearest of those still standing! She then screamed at the top of her own lungs as she hacked and slashed at all the others. Their startled bafflement initially freezing them into fatal inaction.

Unfortunately, their inaction did not last long. Fortunately, by that point, she had managed to make her way to the dwarf's side.

"Como tallez vous, m'sieur?" she inquired of him.

"I'm afraid yours is a tongue I'm unfamiliar with, milady."

"Are you hurt?" she rephrased the question in English.

"Nay! Just winded. Whoever you are, you came along just in time."

"I am Helene Frisson, Sister of Gabrielle from the Convent Ste. Valerie du Petite Chaperon Rouge."

"Logar Ythm of the Radegasti," the dwarf replied. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"What manner of creatures are these?" she now asked as the latter slowly surrounded and advanced upon them.

"They call themselves the Ajaba. But, my people just call them 'gnolls'."

"Gnolls?"

"Aye. Supposedly descended from the mixed-blood offspring of a half-gnome/half-troll hag and her were-hyena mate!"

"Whatever they call themselves," replied the young warrior woman, "we shall make them regret ever accosting you."

"Ha! I like your spirit, milady."

As if in response, a horn was blown in the distance to the north.

SAN FRANCISCO, CAL.

EARTH-06072009 (1986)

Turok advanced upon the SFPD officer, whose fear began to increase in direct proportion to the decrease in his sanity after he had finished emptying his service revolver into the monstrous troll. To no avail! Yet just as the frenzy of that fear was reaching its peak, something unexpected happened. A Kiasyd dressed in black appeared behind the policeman...

...and drained him dry.

Turok screamed in pure outrage and frustration. Two emotions that he tried to channel into the white beam of light that shot outward from the ring on his right hand. But that beam of light was immediately stopped, in mid-air, by a large transparent hemisphere of energy extending from the Kiasyd's right hand. Turok tried to penetrate that ad hoc shield by channeling even more of his anger into the beam. But, eventually, the force of his emotional intensity rebounded on him. Making him fly backward so that he landed in a reverse-somersault.

"Who are you?" he growled when he regained his feet.

"Someone who can help you escape this pocket dimension, Turok of Fomoria. Oh, yes! I know your true name. Just like I know you were born a changeling to House Balor of the Unseelie Court, abducted, as a wee nipper by the Black Hand revenants of the Enrathi sect; trained in Verbena magicks by the Rafastio sect; and then trained, as a spy, by the Marijava sect. All so you could infiltrate the Order of Hermes as a student of House Merinita before eventually transferring to House Tremere. It was you who corrupted the latter into first experimenting on vampires. And then, later, helped them frame House Diedne as nephandists! Of course, by the time the rest of the Order learned the truth, it was too late. The best they could do to punish you is turn you into a troll... and imprison you, here."

"How do you know all that?" demanded the troll wizard, after several awkward moments of dumbfounded amazement.

"By the same means I'll be using to take you to another world," replied the Kiasyd. "One a whole lot closer to the world you were born and raised in. And which you tried, but failed, to recreate in the here-and-now. A failure you'd have been doomed to repeat if I'd let you take over this copper!"

Five minutes later, Turok found himself in a vast cavern of ice... in front of the largest dragon he had ever seen. A golden dragon with a U-shaped pair of horns!

"Turok of Fomoria? Meet Nicobolas of Zendikar."

THE ROYAL PALACE OF TUROK

(ONE WEEK EARLIER)

The self-proclaimed "Troll King of Carpia" watched as his seneschal, Vargo Kent, high priest of the local cell of the Cult of the Dragon, formally announced their not-so-unexpected guests.

"Presenting... Lord Szass Tam, last of the Red Wizards of Thay; and Lady Imsa the Green, emissary of the Order of the Twisted Rune!"

"Greetings, fellow mages," said Turok. "What brings you to Carpia?"

It was the verdant vision of loveliness, to his left, who replied first with as much diplomatic patience as she could muster.

"The same matter that must surely be filling you with as much trepidation as it us, 'Your Majesty'."

"Glordelia's forthcoming nuptials," added the Red Wizard more brusquely. "We all know what happens if she consummates. Yet, thus far, neither of us have you seen you do anything towards preventing that. Despite the agreed-upon pooling of our resources!"

"On the contrary," the troll wizard hoarsely chuckled. "I have already taken several steps to insure that wedding never takes place. Subtle steps, I admit. But, no less important ones!"

"And may we inquire as to the exact nature of those steps?" asked Lady Imsa.

"Let me put it this way. There is an old saying on the world I originally came from: 'Keep your friends close. But, your enemies, closer!' Foolish advice, at first glance. But, upon closer examination, one finds it refers to the proper positioning of one's enemies..."

Here, he unexpectedly clapped his hands together. Making his two guests instinctively jump!

"... at the springing of a two-pronged trap."

THE RUINS OF MYTH DRAENOR

(TWENTY-FOUR HOURS EARLIER)

"Before you depart, I have two more gifts for you," said Aranea.

Whereupon, she materialized a shield in her middle and bottom left hands. A white oval shield adorned with the likeness of a silver lance outlined in gold. While her bottom right hand materialized a hollowed-out bull's horn with a black leather thong tied around its bell and mouthpiece.

"This is the signaling horn of the Flying Huntsmen. And, this is the battle shield of a Silver Lancer. Both are notoriously difficult to obtain for they who are not members of those military adventuring companies. You will thereby be shown more respect by other soldiers-of-fortune who might cross your path. And there are many such in Baldur's Gate!"

Kaulder pointed at the shield. "How am I supposed to sling that, and this battle ax, over this fancy-schmancy cape?"

Dobin Goodfellow snorted in half-serious exasperation.

"Just drape the cape over m' back, like a saddle blanket! If nothing else, it'll protect m' hide from being chaffed by your armor."

Kaulder did as the purple unicorn suggested. The latter involuntarily exhaling a bit when the witch hunter leaped on to his back in a single bound. Kaulder then turned to Aranea and asked one final question.

"What's the best route to Baldur's Gate from here?"

"Ride due west till you reach Mystara," replied the spider-mage. "The southern-most province of Ehb. Seek out a coastal village called Stonebridge, and ride due north from there."

Kaulder nodded before donning the red-plumed helmet and hunkering down on Dobin's back like a professional jockey. His hands entwining themselves in the unicorn's mane.

"The Great Weaver's blessing be upon you," said Aranea in farewell.

"I'll see you in a week," was all the witch hunter had time to say, in response, before Dobin took off in a cloud of dust.

tbc

"Mort Aux Morts-Vivants" (Death To The Undead).

Belmont: family name of the vampire-hunting protagonists in the video game "Castlevania."

Order of the Red Shield: vampire-hunting organization in the anime series "Blood +" (pronounced "Blood Plus").

Barovia: homeland ruled by vampiric Count Von Strahd in the D&D spin-off video game "Ravenloft."

Sir Adol: heroic protagonist of the anime series "Ys" based on a video game series of the same name.

Rouge: a mysterious belly-dancing fortune teller who aids Sir Edward Falcon in "The Power Stone", an anime spin-off of the eponymous Capcom video game.