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There is only one road into Varga and Fred has donned the clothes of a
merchant to hide his identity, and to best seek out the truth. Once out of
his first travelling, Fred renews his committment to his quest and the
destruction of the dragon which threatens his homeland and potentially the
world, but in his mind he trusts the power of the staff and feels in his
blood that this city, Varga must hold a more dire injustice, a more
pressing need of his services. The staff chose Fred, there was no real
choice to be made, but the soft gray muscle between his ears whispers
words like "free will" and "insistence." As he nears the bustling gray-
brown mass of Varga he approves, aloud, the changes the staff has made to
his muscles, skin, and bones. He is stronger, quicker, his bones are
hardened like they were encased in steel, and the cells of his skin absorb
the rays of sunlight like water, energizing him. A voice in his chest
speaks faintly, "This is your food now. The sun is your sustenance, the
earth is your power and between the two you will bring balance, justice."
The voice is warm but not his own. The voice has a will of it's own,he
can sense it, but he hopes, as he walks with the carts of fruit and wares
that approach the gates to the city, that in a fortnight the problem will
have been corrected and when the staff erupts in cold blue flames and
charges his trembling frame with the power to travel again, that the staff
will hear his words in the travelling and will allow him to finish his
quest.
Fred weighs a bag of coins in his hand, willing the amount to increase,
the coins multiply and he approaches the gate and the gatekeeper. "I will
need much money in this place, without wares I will need the money to
appear as a buyer of goods," Fred says to himself. The voice in his chest
warmly rushes through him, reminding him, "Your power is limited, it is
your will and imagination that will uncover the need for justice, and it
is not your will but the staff's that will appear in your hands at the
moment of judgement and with the passing of judgement each time, you will
travel.
"Buy or Sell?" The Gatekeeper spoke without looking at him, leather straps
crossing his chest, a broad sword resting agaist the wall beside him.
"Buying. Friend."
"you've no friends here, merchant, only traders and customers. No kind of
friends at all."
"Who is the Lord of Varga, gatekeeper? Who runs this city?"
"Greed runs this city, merchant. Only greed."
"And has greed hired you for this job, sir?" Fred asked.
"You are yet inside, digger, and I will keep it that way if you refuse to
hold your tongue."
"My mistake. May I enter?"
"Ay. On your way," he said rubbing his shaved head and watching as our
hero disappeared into the churning mass of traders and tables. Fred...
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6/18/2000 11:43:21 AM
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