| Joan
"Call myself Joan now," I says, smiling slightly, "But to business..."
"How did you know he'd be in the left tunnel?" Annafrid asks before
I can begin.
"Have warning glyphes at entrance," Belboz answers, sleepily, "Tells
me which tunnel an intruder goes down so I can intercept them...."
As it turns out, as I had just figured out just a few minutes ago, was
that whether left or right I was sure that Belboz had magical triggers
all over the cavern entrance. Belboz's spell induced confessions just confirmed
that. Anyway, that being the case, Belboz would have used short cuts to
get in any cavern to intercept any would be dragon slayers.
"The cryptic comments about wanting to take care of Belboz before going
off to meet any supposed Astra was basically alluding to that," I say,
"No joke, Belboz is very good at the art of ambush in fulfilling the contract
he had with the dragon (re: 8642). If not for the unexpected events, I'd
probably still be dancing for those drunken letches!"
Grilling Belboz proves that similar fates had befallen other knights that had fallen to similar fates as I. One right at this very moment were dancing for other rich drunkard friends (ones not driven insane by RF) of Bebloz in what could be termed the middle eastern part of my Terra. The other was now a dancing circus bear, dressed in a funny outfit with a ring in his nose. Other victims, who were without a lick of dancing proficiency had also
been turned into buxom, scantily clad woman statues.
Only thing keeping Belboz alive right now is my need to know where these
poor ones are....
Lord, give me strength!
Least I know that I'm not the only one wanting to kill him! The other
women of this team look murderous right now. Jarlath doesn't look to kindly
towards this Belboz, either.
Man is amoral as a cat!
"Our" Belboz back on Terra Prime may be a ghost now, but his dark reputation
had been misearned.
The Belboz before us, still living, was much more deserving.....
The news that Belboz had been unaware of the dragon's interdiction state
with both the Dragon Council and the King of Allaria might have made me
less angry with him after all these years, but not now after I've learned
of what he's been doing while I've been away.
Old boy had been concentrating on thigns too far abroad, taking care
of business in far away and exotic lands, to notice a deadly war had been
going on in his very back yard!
Pathetic! I sigh. Idiots all powerful and mighty with magic,
but a dunce with other things
Meanwhile, something has slowly dawned upon our wonder boy here...
"What?" he whispers sleepily, aghast, "My lawyer lied to me? Impossible!"
Apparently this barrister had convinced him of a few false things....
"He would if the barrister is crooked and on the dragon's payroll,"
Jarlath put in.
Belboz looks at him for a few seconds, then grows pale.
"Had been wondering where he got the money for that new Wallants Vila,"
he whispers, "That means the dragon's contract with me is null and void!"
"A contract woven into a spell keeping you alive," a deep voice says
softly from nowhere and everywhere. "A contract that you signed....in your
blood. A contract which is NOT null and void, despite your friends revelations!"
It's the dragon's voice, I feel. Doesn't sound like anyone we've ever
heard before, but I'm willing to bet that it's the dragon. Whoever or whatever
the owner of the voice really is, it's enough to break the spell keeping
our necromancer peaceful and talkative...
"I must fight you," he says, sleepy tone of voice still present.
Hands begin to weave a spell. Spell bolts and swords cut him to ribbons before he can complete it. We have no choice, I know. If the fool had signed that contract in blood, then Belboz was little more than a puppet for the dragon (who'd apparently made him forget that last fact until now....perhaps for a sadistic game later on....who knows). Or perhaps just for this sadistic thing he's forced us to do! If we didn't kill him, I know he'd kill us! "Now you shall never know where your fellow knights are!" the
voice chuckles, laughing evilly.
"You must be taking lessons from the Mistress," I say softly, growling.
"Inquirer would love you!"
Originally, the "Mistress" had been called the "Master" before regenerating as a woman (re: 12223). Inquirer cast a spell on her to make her grow a handlebar mustache which he'd twirl every time he'd laughed madly (which was every ten seconds after Inquirer was done with him). That laugh was, as I remember, exactly like what this. She'd soon disappeared again, whereabouts unknown..... "How....did you know what my long dead mother's name was," whispers
the voice, surprised.
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