Jarvis and Jernicus

The Never Ending Quest - Episode 23443

Fred turns from the elf and strikes out midway between the woodland fairie-freak and the noise of the mages. He thrusts his arms protectivly outwards as he continues his mad race to nowhere, it is all he can do to keep himself from running headlong into a tree. He manages to evade any of the obstacles the mist-shrouded forest can throw at him, and to his great relief he's soon out of earshot of the mob once again. But there's still that elf to worry about...



"Well, there the idiot goes," Quirlos sighs, having temporarily lost his quarry. "Yet it was preordained that our unlikely paths would cross, and so they have. I've got my orders from the Queen Mother; to make sure you don't get yourself obliterated so you can take on Castellan of dark 'ol Vjorice! Your coming to the west is like the moment when a pebble hits a still, small pond. Vandalizing Castellan's property sounded like more fun than stalking an ungrateful human! Oh well, I've got my orders! Hmmm, first thing's first, I've got to get this mob off your back!" The elf picks up a large rock and stealthfully bounds toward the mages...



"What was that!?"

"Your imagination!" scolds Thelma, brandishing an oaken wand that she's obviously not afraid to use. "You just keep your skinny legs a'runnin unless you want go home to your dear old mum as a spotted newt!"

"No, the youngster is quite right," prompts another wizard, chanting the arcane words to a spell of illumination. "I heard it too. It came from over...there!" He mystically waggles his fingers toward a clustering of elms and a bluish orb of light flickers into view, briefly illuminating the area. Nothing is revealed but the ever thickening night-fog.

"You're all just being jumpy little girly-mages!" Thelma huffs as she flexes her bicep, her facial muscles spasming with anger. "The murdering mageslayer went this way! I'm sure of it! C'mon you pansies!!"

"There it was again! That crashing sound in the trees over there!" the young enchanter unabashadly sobs. "It's the night-monsters! We shouldn't have ventured so far from the city without more of us! We're doomed!"

"What's with you Vjoricans and the whole Doom thing, anyway?" says a voice from the darkness. "Being glum all the time will get you nowhere! Now why don't all of you shuffle along back to your homes like good little mages should! It's past your bedtime! And while you're at it, pass the word on to Castellan; Chaos has no Lord!"



Night has passed. Fred has stumbled along through the impossible mists for what has seemed to be an eternity, and he has lived. When the mists finally do begin to clear and the morning sun warms his aching bones, Fred is finally able to strike a course due west, toward the Realm of the Bavar nestled within the Carpath and the city of Goldstadt therein. He can just barely make out the tallest snow -capped, purple peaks of the Carpath on the hazy horizon. His mad dash through the night had brought him no closer to the mountain realm, but neither had it brought him any further. He decides that as an immediate course of action he will take refuge within Goldstadt until he is able to compose himself and devise a new strategy to take down Castellan. It's proving to be harder than Fred had anticipated. Castellan's sphere of influence is obviously wider than what he had expected. Who would have thought a friendly hay merchant and his wife would be a pair of damn sorcerers of the Guild!?

SNAP!

Fred instinctively throws himself to the ground and lands hard on his back, forcing the wind out of his lungs. In a pile of leaves and underbrush ahead a gruesome set of iron clamps have snapped shut...an obvious trap!

"Damnable damnations! I just set that! Bwhahahahaha!" cackles a figure out of Fred's field of vision. "You shoulda seen the look on yer face when that bad boy went off! I'd have had me a good catch, too!"

Fred turns to see the bent figure of an old man garbed in furs and pelts outlined amoungst the towering trees. "Name's Jarvis of Gala," the man says, taking a step forward and bowing. "That trap wasn't meant to ensnare no human, I assure you. This isn't exactly a high-traffic area..."

"I COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED!" Fred bursts with the renewed force of his lungs, leaping to his feet and reaching for his sword. "How do I know you're not a highwayman...or worse, a sorcerer!? Your clever trap has failed, it seems!"

Jarvis continues cackling wildly. "Hahaha! A sorcerer!? Me!? Not likely, friend. I am a mere trapper that wanders the west and every forest and mountain pass it holds in search of a better life..."

"I've heard other sorcerers put up a more convincing front! How do I know you're not an agent of the Guild!?" Fred takes another step toward the man, his sword now drawn and ready.

"Whoah, now," Jarvis pleads, his smirk vanishing completely. "No need to make any hasty moves! I knew I shouldn't have set my traps so close to the bounds of Vjorica! Shady stuff been goin around here as of late, that much is for sure. The forests around here are low-yield enough without all the danger! Why, I remember a day when I could set a trap in these woods in the afternoon and by the next morning I'd have me a catch! Those days are gone...cursed be the Guild and the name of Castellan..."

Fred sheaths his sword and bows apologetically. "That last remark, old man, may have saved your life. No minion of Castellan would denounce his name outright."

"Well now, that's a relief for sure," Jarvis concedes, breathing in a sigh of...relief. "That's a nasty looking sword ye got yerself. Might I be so bold as to ask what brings you to this neck of the woods armed like that?"

"I am Lord Frederigo D'Honaire of the Duchy Suffex, Allaria. I have come to Vjorica to destroy Castellan and the Mage Guild. During the night I was deceived by a sorcerer in the guise of a hay merchant and I was forced to flee into this forest...after I vanquished him," he adds with a grim sense of satisfaction.

Jarvis whistles and shakes his head. "Heavy stuff. You must be Allarian. Most folk don't go around announcing their business, but leave it to you Allarians to always take the upfront approach! So where are you going now?"

"The city of Goldstadt, the nearest refuge and haven I know of in these uncouth western lands."

"Well now, by the looks of it ye won't be getting there anytime soon," Jarvis states knowingly as he extends a dirt crusted finger toward the northwest. "Goldstadt is that way, and your in luck..."

"Oh?"

"Indeed, I was just about to make my way to the Bavarian valleys myself. I've got some traps to check on in the hills above Goldstadt, I can take you there myself!"

Fred considers the man's offer, wary after his last encounter with a seemingly friendly stranger in these parts. "Let me hear you say it again," he finally remarks, regarding the the man with well- founded supspicion.

"Say what?"

"Denounce the name of Castellan," demands Fred, "and then you'll have my trust."

Jarvis grins, exposing his jagged yellow teeth. Trappers weren't known for brushing. Well, no one was. And flossers? Don't even ask. Anyway, back to the story "You don't have to trust me, you know," Jarvis says. "I'm simply making an offer. I know my way around these parts just fine with or without you..."

"Ah, yes," agrees Fred, "I'm sure you do. But I'm afraid I do have to trust you. If you aren't who you say you are then you already know too much. I have revealed my intentions of slaying Castellan to you..."

Jarvis gulps. "Fine! Fine! I denounce the name of Castellan, cursed be his name, may his stomach grow ulcers and his brain grow cancerous tumors until his teeth fall out and his internal organs liquify and the dogs feast on the cold, mangled remains of..."

"Good enough," Fred says with an approving nod. "To Goldstadt, Jarvis of Gala! Please, do lead on!"

"To Goldstadt! After I reset my trap, if you don't mind..."

"Oh, you mean the one that almost ensnared me? Go ahead."

The old man's face turns red. "Ehehe, again, hehe, sorry about that..." sniff sniff "...what's that smell - by the many teets of Berlin! I think you've got an elf on ye!"

Fred's face pales. "I do!? Where is it!?" He begins to flail his arms about madly, running about like an idiot. "Get it off! Get it off!!" he cries. "No, no, no, not literally," Jarvis explains. "I mean ye've got an elf on yer trail - stalkin' ya! No mistakin the smell, yep, there's an elfie about!"

"Quirlos!" Fred mutters angrily. "The elfin fairie gnome-pixie who ambushed me last night! That must be who it is!"

"Ahhhh, I see," says Jarvis. "'ol Queerlos been givin ya some trouble, eh? Yer not the first, believe me! I've got my own history with that blunderin' woodland nuisance. He used to prance about these woods releasing and healing some of my best catches! Damn elves! But now that the woods went quiet, seems they've been scarce..."



Meanwhile, in the bounds of mystery-shrouded Vjorica...

As the mists part and the sun dispels the darkness of night Bertha, daughter of Hamel,scurries through the twisting alleyways and side streets with the fear that only the Guild can inspire. With her father's death, she has been released from her life of fear and entrapement. But now that she's fled from the scene of her father's bloody demise, it's all too certain her mother will issue a warrant for her arrest with the Guild! She knows of only one place she can take refuge, if only Irena will take her in...



"Another day, another lousy copper," curses a downcast man. "Peddling junk on the side of an ill-used road, this is the life," he groans. But wait! What's this!? Two figures are approaching! Quick, act natural! he tells himself. "Enchanted Trinkets! Magic Potions! Lucky Charms! Rare authentic Ki'Shii handbaskets!"

"I thought you said hardly anyone uses this road!" Fred sighs, nudging Jarvis sharply in the ribs and trying to pretend not to notice the man and his cart-load of trash, or whatever he's calling it.

"Hardly anyone does," Jarvis defends, shaking his head with disbelief. "I've never encountered any peddlers along this road in all my days, this I swear!"

"Let's just ignore him," Fred quietly suggests. "You can't encourage these trashmongers or they'll just jump down your throat. Keep walking and pretend he's not there. Shh, don't look at him!"

Jarvis nods.

The downcast man continues his pitch. "Really cool neato magic stuff! Get it while it's hot...or something, whatever...special price...limited offer...something, something..."

Fred stops short in his tracks and turns to confront the wayside salesman. "Oh come on, you're not even trying!"

The man shrugs lazily and stares at his toes. "I'm not very good at this..."

Fred studies the man's features for a moment. It seems somehow familiar, but how? His face suddenly brightens as he realizes who he thinks the man is. "JERNICUS!?"

The man's eyes widen as Fred utters the name, as if it holds some dreadful meaning. He quickly tries to compose himself. "Jernicus!? N-no, Je-Jernicus for sale..." he stutters. "Actually - shop's closed! Good day! Have a nice life!" He turns abruptly and walks away with a nonchalaunt whistle in his step, abandoning his cart altogether.

"JERNICUS!" Fred's yells echoes through the woods. "HEY JERNICUS COME BACK! JERNICUS HEY! COME BACK, HEY JERNICUS!"

"DAMMIT TO HELL! SHUT THE @#*% UP! DON'T SAY THAT NAME AGAIN!" The man bolts back to his cart, his face now a sickly snow-white hue. "Whoever you are, whatever you are," he continues, his voice now hushed, "ya got me, ok? I am indeed Jernicus, you happy? Now would you mind not telling anyone else!? I'm trying to maintain a low profile!"

"But surely you remember me," Fred insists. "It is I, Lord Frederigo of Suffex!"

"Freddy boy! Now I recognize ya," Jernicus gushes. "You've grown since I last laid eyes on ya!"

"No time to waste, Jernicus, you must come with me to Goldstadt. Together we will plot the death of Castellan..."

"See, now there's the thing," Jernicus says uneasily. "I left Vjorica for good. Castellan has the Doom Squad. And the Doom Squad has ninja throwing stars. Ninja throwing stars! They're really scarry! No one gets past the Squad. They attack without warning and kill with lightning speed! They're Spirit Ninjas, for Rhom's sake! Immortal mist- walkers from the nethervoid! Did I mention the throwing stars!?"

"Come on, Jernicus," Fred says firmly. "You have a duty to your King and Country. I will gut you as a traitor if you don't come along."

"Really?"

"HA! HA! Of course not. Seriously, though, we've got to get moving."

"Oh, I forgot to mention," Jarvis adds, "we're going to be taking a shortcut through Axtun, it's quickest way to the Bavar."

"AXTUN!?" Jernicus exclaims. "The domain of Baron Zeitgeist!? Are you insane!? You think these woods are creepy? There'a naught else to find in Axtun but an early death!"

"I know the safe ways," Jarvis says confidently...

  1. Fred decides to take the shortcut through Axtun...
  2. Fred decides to take the long way to Goldstadt....

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2/27/2003 4:20:44 AM

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