CHAPTER 16: "Whose idea was this anyway? Don't answer that!"
Hello, and welcome to book 4. In case you've missed what has happened in the previous book or three, (or if you just blinked and missed it) here's a quick summary. Our heroes got sucked into an alternative dimension (which seems to be in Llama's imagination) by a piece of rogue pirate software. Once there, they were attacked by a little green man in a flying saucer, made their way to a secret tropical island retreat, from where they trekked halfway across a desert. Attacked by something extremely nasty in the middle of the desert, Amanda rescued everyone, while Llama blew his top, or something, resulting in him ending up in little pieces all over the landscape. However, instead of dying, or waking up, somehow or other he ended up in Amanda's body, which he naturally had a little trouble getting used to. Hitching a ride on a passing, (and unsuspecting!) beer wagon, our heroes finally discovered that the reason this story has no plot is because that the author considers "PloT!" to be the sound effect of an axe sinking into someone's skull. They eventually struck out for the great city of Noeh T'Parc, five days ride away. On the first night, Percy found a magic bracelet, Yeti had a nasty accident at high-speed involving a cow, a tree and a cliff, and the others met a wizard. On the second day, they got attacked and captured by slavers. Llama saved the day in her silver birthday suit, and they carried on, with the slavers as their prisoners. Meanwhile, on a far off world, Oof Harted discovered he was the Lost Hero of legend, and was destined to save the world. Not that he was very happy about this, but he didn't really have alot of choice in the matter. Destiny and all that. Anyway, I'm sure we'll be seeing alot more of him soon... (No, put your clothes back on NOW, Oof!) On the third day, Llama met Timothy Cook, alias "The Beast", an unfortunately cursed explorer. Llama worked out how to use the magic bracelet for cross-dimensional travel, so she and Percy went shopping at Harrods. Coming out of the store, Llama spotted an old friend from college, Sick Eyebrows, (who of course didn't recognise Llama) and promptly got herself knocked up, sorry, I mean knocked down by a taxi. And so we re-join the story...
Look. There's the world. Whaddya mean, where? THERE! That bloody great blue-green globe thingy. Yes, the one with the white streaky bits all over it. No, not that one, that's bloody Mars you idiot, look it's red, not green. The one over there. That's better! Okay, zoom in, swoop down, left a bit, there, head on in, that's it, there's Europe, well some of it anyway, the rest of it is under that bloody great cloud. Now you see that little green bit sticking up over there? That's part of England, that is. Right, zoom in on that. Okay, now you see that large grey patch, over there on the right? No, further down. Yes, the big bit like all the little bits. That's London. Zoom in again, that's it right in, there's a street, yes, and a bloody great building called a Hospital at the end of it, that's it zoom in, now through the window. Oh! I'm so sorry madam, I had no idea this was the ladies. Ooops! quick, back out, try the window next door. That's better. Look, there's Llama, lying in the bed. She's unconscious. Don't ask me what all those doctors are doing in here, I've no idea. Sorry, what's that? No visitors yet? Sorry, we'll just leave... come on, out into the corridor. There, sat on a couple of chairs at the end of the corridor, near the coffee machine are Percy and Sick.
"So, who is she?" Sick asked Percy. "Eh?" asked Percy, eyeing the legs of the young nurse walking past. "I asked, who is she?" repeated Sick. "Um. I'm not sure how to explain it to you." said Percy. "I think she'd better tell you herself. I don't think I could." he added. "Oh great." said Sick. "Well, she seemed to know me. And I definitely know you, Percy. So where's Llama? He's normally somewhere around when you are." "Ah." said Percy. "I think I'd better leave it to her to explain all that..." his voice trailed off as his eyes followed another young nurse's legs as they went past. The rest of the nurse followed along afterwards in a wheelchair. "Shit!" said Sick, "That's weird! I haven't seen anything that weird since I last got involved in one of Llama's crazy adventures... Oh no!" "Oh, yes, I'm afraid." said Percy. "Really? just what is it your afraid of?" asked Sick. "Eh?" said Percy, "No, I mean I'm afraid you're right. This is another crazy Llama 'venture." "Oh no." moaned Sick, "I've only just my life back to normality. So what the hell's going on this time?" Percy explained, as best he could, what had happened to him and the others since he loaded the fateful software, omitting any reference to Amanda really being Llama, or whatever. "Oh, shit." said Sick, "I got a copy of that disk off of Llama as well. I loaded it last night and thought it was duff. I guess I'm now caught right up in it too!" Percy nodded. "I'm afraid, as you probably know from previous experience, there's no chance of an early escape." he commented. Sick shook his head. "And these things can go on for bloody months! I failed a year at college because of the time I got lost in one of his damn adventures. There's three friends I've never seen again, they went into one of these adventures and never came out! His bloody imagination is sodding dangerous. It ought to be kept on a leash or something." Percy nodded in agreement, his head moving form left to right as he watched another pair of legs go by. A stream of doctors emerged from the room Llama was in, and one said something to a passing nurse. Then they left. The nurse approached Percy and Sick. "You can go in now." she told them. "Huh?" asked Percy, oggling. "Huh?" agreed Sick. "Oh. Yeah. Sure. Okay." They got up and filed into the room. Llama was sat up in the bed. "Hi guys," she said, wincing. "Boy, have I got a head-ache. Ouch!" "Uh, Hi." said Percy. "Hi." said Sick. "Look, I don't mean to be rude but just WHO are you?" "Oh." said Llama, "Uh. Well, that could be kinda hard to explain..." "Try me." said Sick. "Well, um. I'm Amanda. Sort of. And I know Llama. Very well. And, well, Llama has talked about you so much I recognised you instantly when I saw you. So I called out, and then I can't remember what the hell happened." "You did your best to rearrange the front end of a taxi." explained Sick. "Well, Amanda, I'm very pleased to meet you. You know, I'm sure I've seen you somewhere before. You went to Kingston Poly didn't you?" "Yes, sort of." agreed Llama. "Look, this is all very touching," interrupted Percy, "but we can't hang around here much longer. How long do you think they'll keep you here?" "I think they want to keep me in for observation." said Llama. "Shit." said Percy, "well that's too bad, cos we have gotta go. Where are your clothes?" "I don't know." admitted Llama, "Have a look in the cupboard over there. Why the rush to get out of here?" "Because," explained Percy, "we had to give a statement to the police about the accident, and since we didn't know any of your details, like a surname or address or anything, they are going to be coming to see you as soon as the hospital informs them that you have woken up." "Shit." muttered Llama climbing out of bed, and looking through the bedside cabinet. "Yeah, well I guess you don't really want to meet them, so I suggest we hurry up and get the hell out of here." "Hold on a sec" Sick cut in, "but why is she on the run from the police? What the hell are you two mixed up in? This has something to do with Llama, right?" "Yeah." said Percy and Llama together, searching through the cupboards in the room. "Here you go." said Percy, holding the doors on one cupboard wide open. "Thanks." said Llama, reaching in for the pile of clothes. "Uh, do you two mind?" "Not at all!" smiled Sick. Percy dragged him out of the room by the arm.
A few minutes later, Llama emerged from the room, dressed. Her timing could not have been more perfect. As she turned to greet Sick and Percy, a policeman and policewoman appeared walking up the corridor towards them. Seeing Llama emerge from the room, they shouted at the threesome and broke into a run. "Quick!" yelled Percy, sprinting off down the corridor in the opposite direction. Llama and Sick were pretty close behind him. "Which way?" asked Llama as the turned a corner and continued at full pelt, side-stepping patients, nurses and orderlies as they ran. "Down here!" shouted Percy, diving through a pair of double swinging doors, which led onto a stair-case. Picking him up from the dive, the three of them mad a dash for the staircase, only to spot another pair of policemen coming up. "Oh shit!" all three of them cried, and backpeddled up the stairs rapidly. back on the landing, the original pair of officers were just coming through the doors. The three friends didn't stop, they just continued on up the stairs, until they reached the eighth, and top floor. "Shit, we've run out of stairs!" shouted Sick. "What do we do now?" "Look for another way" shouted Percy, running out into the corridor again. "This way!" shouted Llama, pointing towards a fire-escape. As they burst through the fire doors, an alarm sounded. Percy glanced down, and saw a police car parked in the alley below. Two officers were stood either side of it. "Up!" yelled Percy, grabbing Sick and Llama by the arms and dragging them up the fire-escape, towards the roof. "What!" screamed Sick, "Where the hell are we supposed to go now?" "Over there!" shouted Llama, pointing to the other side of the roof. The threesome sprinted across. They all looked over the edge, at the street nine floors below. "Great." said Sick, "I daren't ask." "We jump for it!" said Llama. "You gotta be fucking kidding!" swore Percy, "We'ed never survive that! You might, but me and Sick, no way!" "Sorry," said Llama, "No time to argue!" and grabbing them both by the arms, she dragged them over the edge. "Aaaarrgghhh!" screamed Sick and Percy in unison. "Wheeeeeeeee!" yelled Llama in delight. There was a strange buzzing noise, a moments disorientation, and then all three were somewhere very dark and cramped. "Where are we?" asked Percy. "Somewhere very dark and cramped it says here." replied Llama. "Oh God, not another one who's good at stating the blindingly obvious." moaned Sick. "I thought Llama was bad enough." "Hey!" protested Llama. "Oh yeah," continued Sick, "and another thing. Why is it that any girl even remotely connected with Llama seems to be intent on reducing my life-span considerably?" "umm..." mused Llama, "I don't know. But we did survive, didn't we?" "I'm not sure." replied Sick, "For all I know, this could be some sort of Limbo." "Nah." said Percy, "feels more like some sort of broom cupboard." "What makes you say that?" asked Sick. "Well, there's this thing that feels suspiciously like a broom handle sticking right in the middle of my back." explained Percy. "Ahh." agreed Sick. "That would tend to indicate that were in a broom cupboard then." "Hold on a sec," said Llama, "I think I found the light switch. Here goes!" All three of them blinked rapidly as the fluorescent tube flickered into life. "Don't move." Sick suddenly warned Percy, staring at whatever it was behind Percy's back. "Why not?" asked Percy, looking over his shoulder. "Oh, Shit!" he cried as he spied the gangster who was holding a vicious- looking machine gun in his back. "What?" asked Llama, turning round. Then she screamed. Sick shook his head and wiggled a finger in his ear to try and clear the ringing sound. Percy picked himself up off the floor where he had dived for cover. "What the hell did you do that for?" he asked angrily. The gangster hadn't moved. "Sorry." apologised Llama, "He gave me a shock." Sick rapped the wax model on the forehead. "He's pretty realistic, isn't he!" he admired. Llama looked around them. They were in a display cabinet, with two glass walls and two normal looking walls. Through the glass she could just see a dimly lit hall, with other display cases dotted around the place. A door was placed in one of the ~normal~ walls, next to the lightswitch she had found. The door led onto a small access corridor which led into the main hall. As the three emerged into the hall, the could now see that they had appeared in the middle of some sort of wax-works exhibition. "Just how the hell did we get here anyway?" asked Sick. "Believe me, you don't want to know." said Percy. "Yes I do, or I wouldn't have asked." countered Sick. "A magical teleportation device." explained Llama. "You were right." Sick told Percy. "I didn't want to know that."
CHAPTER 17: "I'll think of something! (Just don't expect too much.)"
"So, what the hell are we doing here in the middle of a wax-works?" asked Percy. "I don't know," replied Llama, "I honestly don't know!" "Great!" commented Sick, "So, what now?" "How about getting back to the camp?" suggested Percy. "Uh, okay." agreed Llama, "Let me see if I can work this thing right. Here, hang on to me now!" Percy and Sick grabbed hold. "NOT there, if you don't mind!" she scolded them with a black look. The pair grinned sheepishly and moved their hands down to here elbows. Llama started running her fingers over the amulet on her wrist. There was a brief flash of light, then the three of them found themselves stood in small bush not far from the camp-site which Llama and Percy had left earlier that day.
The sun was already up, and steam was rising from the surrounding woodland when Llama finally opened her eyes. She could hear the others moving about, striking camp, and talking amongst themselves. She led there for a few minutes, listening to the murmur of their voices as the sunlight streamed through the branches and warmed the canvas sheet above her. A head appeared above her, and grinned. "Hey, sleepy head! You gonna get up or what? We're all ready to go!" said Percy. Llama smiled, yawned, and stretched. Percy's eyes widened, and he gulped loudly. Llama frowned, then glanced down. "Hey, do you mind?" she cried, blushing furiously as she pulled the blanket up to cover herself from his stare. "N-n-not at all!" stammered Percy, backing out of the make-shift tent, straight into one of the trees that was supporting it. He wandered off, rubbing his back. Llama frowned, then smiled to herself. Well, it wasn't as if it was her body after all, it was Amanda's. She examined herself as she got dressed. Yep, this was one hot body alright! emerging from the tent, she walked across the dew-laden ground to the wagon where the other's were busy loading up. It appeared that Percy had already introduced Sick to the other three, and sick, being a seasoned Llama-adventure survivor, had accepted them without a second glance. Llama turned to DeOre, who seemed to be running through checklists in his head. "Hi!" she said, smiling. "Anything I can do?" "Uh, no, not really." replied DeOre, "we seem to have things pretty much sorted. Want some breakfast?" he indicated in the direction of the fire, where a pot hung from a tripod. "No thanks," replied Llama, "I'm not very hungry." "Ah. Well, we've just got to pack your tent, and the tripod over there, and we're ready to go." said DeOre.
After the initial hysterical reactions of the captive bandits at their first sight of the Beast, The procession set off once more. Sick rode on the wagon with H'Rutt, DeOre, Percy and Llama rode the horses, the bandits trailed by rope from behind the cart, and the beast loped off scouting the trail up ahead, so that the horses wouldn't be too upset by his presence.
As the day wore on, and the cart jolted along the track, Sick watched the contents rattling around in the back, puzzled. "What IS that under the sacking?" he asked H'Rutt. "Llama's body." replied H'Rutt. "WHAT?" yelled Sick, "But Percy said he blew up!" "He did," replied H'Rutt, "But then he turned into Amanda, and we found this body floating in a stream." "Whoa!" said Sick, "Hold on! You're telling me that Amanda is really Llama? You gotta be kidding me!" At the sound of Sick's shouting, Llama and Percy reigned their horses in, and pulled up alongside the wagon. "Oh shit," said Percy, "looks like he just found out your little secret." "What secret?" asked Llama, puzzled. "About who you REALLY are?" replied Percy. "Oh!" said Llama, "Oh, shit. I suppose I should have explained..." "Too damn right you should have explained!" exploded Sick, whirling on her. "What the hell did you think I allowed myself to get bloody well caught up in this mess again for?" "I don't know, what?" asked Llama. "What do you bloody think!" seethed Sick. "A gorgeous girl practically throws herself at me across the street, getting herself knocked down in the process. I then find that she's with Percy, and the pair of them are in some real trouble, namely one of YOUR bloody adventures! So, I volunteer my services, so to speak, as someone who has previous experience. You know, the rescuing the damsel in distress bit? Only then I discover, once I'm bloody well in it up to my neck, that the gorgeous girl I was hoping to save and sweep off her feet is YOU!" "Oh!" said Llama, blushing. "Oh!" said Llama, looking sheepish. "You said that once." Percy reminded her. "Oh! Uh, yes." said Llama, "well, look. If I'd told you back in the hospital that I was really Llama, would you have believed me?" "Probably not." admitted Sick. "Right." Agreed Llama, "You didn't recognise me in Amanda's body, any more than you'd expect to find me looking like this!" she indicated her curves. Sick agreed. "I suppose your right." he said. "But you don't half make it hard on a guy. I keep wanting to make a pass at you. I mean, looking like that!" "It is a BIG improvement though!" he added. "Thanks!" snorted Llama, sarcastically. "No, I mean it!" insisted Sick, "You definitely look alot better like that! It suits you!" "Great." moaned Llama, "Look, you try walking around for a couple of days in a bra and high-heels and see how much you like it!" "Oh, yeah, kinky! Can I, please!" begged Sick. Percy and H'rutt each stifled a laugh. Llama fumed, then smiled. "Why not?" she admitted, "If anyone here can make that happen, I should be able to!" "Eh?" asked Sick. "Oh, nothing." replied Llama. "She means about being the Maker. You know, the local god. I tried to explain it all this morning to you." explained Percy. "Oh, yeah." agreed Sick, "I'd forgotten. I won't believe it until I see her do something to prove it though!" DeOre turned round on his horse up ahead. "Be careful what you ask for of the Maker, you might just get it!" he warned. "Especially if she doesn't know how she's doing it!" "Look!" exclaimed Percy, pointing ahead of them. They had not noticed as they crested the last rise, and sprawled out in the valley ahead of them, at the base of the mountain, was a huge city. "Is that..." asked Percy. "Yes." replied H'Rutt, "Noeh T'Parc. We're here!" "I was wondering when you'd notice it." came the Beast's voice, from beside them. Llama almost jumped out of her saddle. The others were only marginally less shocked. She laid a hand over her rapidly beating heart. "Don't DO that!" she scolded, "You scared me half to death!" "Sorry!" smiled the Beast, showing all his fangs. "And don't do that either!" scolded Llama, "You'll really scare someone to death!"
As they neared the city, they were joined by more and more traffic on the road, travelling both into and out from the city. Their strange party attracted more than a few stray glances from their fellow travellers, and soon there was a gaggle of gawkers tagging along behind them. By the time they reached the wide open gates of the city, they had quite a procession. Once inside the city walls, however, the procession quickly dispersed, leaving only a handful of the most curious still following on. H'Rutt stopped to ask someone directions to the slave markets, and soon after they arrived in a large open square with a raised plinth at one end. Three large desks were situated on the plinth, each attended by someone in official looking robes, and each surrounded by a queue of at least half a dozen people. Stout poles stood every fifteen feet or so, each with a large iron ring firmly attached to it. Chained to these poles were slaves of all descriptions, young and old, male and female, all different creeds and races. Dwarves, elves, and even goblins were chained in amongst human men, women and children. An official with a large bronze chain of office approached them. "Hah! I see your wicked ways have finally caught up with you, Torik!" he greeted one of the slaves. "Aye." agreed the chained bandit, morosely. "But what of the rest of your band? Surely this mere half dozen, though formidable, were not solely responsible for your defeat and capture?" continued the official. Llama and the others watched and listened in interest. "Huh!" replied the bandit, "T'was not even this half dozen! You may laugh and mock me all you want, Slamer Yon, but it was the girl who almost single-handedly performed the deed. Be careful, Slamer, don't piss her off. I don't think the entire City Guard could stop her." Llama blushed, and glanced at her companions embarrassedly. "Er, that's not exactly true, I mean, they did help..." she protested. Slamer Yon examined her with an interested look. "If Torik is prepared to admit it was so, then I believe him." he said. "Well, to matters in hand. Torik and his band deserve to end up here, after all the trade they've done here themselves. I take it you ARE here on business?" "Yes," replied Llama. "Well, since I haven't seen you here before, let me explain it to you." continued Slamer Yon. "I am Slamer Yon - Slamer is short for Slave Master. In order to conduct business here, you must first register up there, at the Red Desk. They will provide you with a pitch, for a cost of fifty gold pieces. Then you must go to the Green Desk. There you must register your slaves, for a cost of ten gold pieces per slave. You must provide details of how the slave came into your possession to sell, i.e. previous trade, bad debt, captured in a fight, whatever. You then set up on your pitch, and sell your slaves. When you successfully agree a price, you and the buyer must go to the Blue Desk, where the sale will be recorded, and the appropriate papers provided to each party. A tax of five percent of the sale price will be levied for this service. If you wish, you may sell your slaves to the city for a price of thirty five gold pieces each, non-negotiable. Trade in unregistered slaves is a capital offence. Any other questions or problems, you come and ask me, that's my job." "Uh-huh. Okay." agreed Llama, glancing at H'Rutt. H'Rutt nodded.
Lunchtime that day found our friends sat in an inn a few streets away from the slave market. It seemed that the bandit Torik and his companions were well known, if not well liked in the city, and they were soon sold for a tidy price, into the bondage of a local merchant, who apparently had lost quite a bit of money to Torik and his exploits, and was eager to make Torik work it off. They were now planning on enjoying a little of the city, before continuing their quest, and were discussing exactly what they should do next.
H'Rutt had gone off to check up on a couple of "old friends". DeOre had left to visit the local Wizard's Guild, and Beast had retired to his room, fed up with everybody staring at him, whilst Percy, Llama and Sick were left to decide what they wanted to do. Llama wanted to explore the city, whilst Percy just wanted to find a pub and get drunk. Sick had a better idea. He suggested they go and explore all the pubs in the city, or at least, as many as they could get round in a sort of massive pub-crawl. The other two agreed, and soon all three were merrily staggering from one pub to another.
"You know what?" spluttered Llama as they all leant heavily on the bar in the eleventh pub they had staggered into. "Know what?" asked Percy, slopping his beer down her T-shirt and giggling. "No, What? Know what? ish a joke, geddit?" "Aw, shit. Now I'm all bloody wet." moaned Llama, looking down at her soggy T-shirt. "You was sayin'?" asked Percy. "Oh, yeah. Well, I's been thinking see." continued Llama. Sick leant closer to listen to the conversation. "Well," said Llama, "You know like I'm supposed to be sort of a god-type thingy round here..." "As you never tire of pointing out" interrupted Percy, earning him a black look from Llama and a nudge in the back from Sick, which was rather harder than intended and caused more beer to be spilt down Llama's front, with the usual effect of a wet T-shirt when worn by a well-endowed girl. "Sorry!" apologised Percy, trying to mop up some of the beer. "Humph!" snorted Llama, "As I was saying, I'm supposed to have all these amazing powers, right, but I don't know how to use them? Well, I figure I haven't even tried to use them yet. But i think I have an idea of how to. It's simple really, I should have spotted it earlier, but I guess I have had too much else to worry about. Anyway, I figure I gotta start trying somewhere, so why not here and now?" "What, in that state?" asked Sick. "Yeah, why not? I'm not entirely fitshaced you know!" "Oops! you know what I mean," she added. "What you gonna do first then?" asked Percy. "I dunno." she answered. "Any suggestions?"
CHAPTER 18: "Amanda has an incredible bust."
"Well?" asked Llama, "Any suggestions?" "Yeah," said Sick, "You could get us some more beer for starters." "That's not exactly what I had in mind..." she replied. "I know." suggested Percy, "How about trying to light a candle? That's what all magic students seem to start with. Lighting a candle." "You know," said Llama thoughtfully, "You're right." she called the barkeeper over and asked for another round of drinks, and a candle. The drinks appeared, along with a fat, stubby candle in front of them. Llama picked up the candle stub and stood it upright on a dry part of the bar in front of them. Taking a long, hard pull on their drinks, they all stared at the stub thoughtfully. "Okay," said Llama at last, "What do I do now?" "How should I know?" replied Percy, "You're supposed to be the one with the powers. I dunno, try thinking at it or something!" Llama stared at the candle, thinking hard. With all of her might, she willed it to burst into flame. She thought of projecting her thought forward, to the wick of the candle, which would get hotter and hotter until it eventually glowed red and burst into flames. When she felt she could concentrate no more, she opened her eyes. The candle stub still sat there, flameless. "Did anything happen?" she asked. "Not a thing." said Sick. "DAMN!" she swore, thumping her fist down on the table in frustration. The candle stub disappeared in a blinding flash as with a whoosh, a small fireball, about a foot in diameter, appeared in it's place on the bar, spattering hot wax everywhere. When the fireball faded, they all stared in amazement at the charred hole in the bar-top. The three slowly became aware that the entire room had gone quiet and all faces were turned toward them. The barman came rushing over and hissed at them. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Are you trying to get me closed down?" he demanded. "I hope you've got a licence for at least fourth class magic, pulling a stunt like that!" "Licence?" asked Llama. "Yeah." replied the barman. "Which one of you's the wizard? Don't tell me you don't have a licence. You'll have the M.P.'s down on us any second, and you don't have a licence! Why is it always you strangers who have to cause all the trouble?" "M.P.'s?" asked Percy, suspiciously. "Magic Police." replied the barman. "Oh shit, you ARE from out of town, aren't you. Well, they might go easy on you for a first offence, say five years. There again, they might not." "Are you trying to tell me that MAGIC is against the law here?" asked Llama incredulously. "No, not at all." explained the barman. "Only unlicensed magic is illegal. If you have a licence, then you can practice magic up to the level of your licence quite legally." "How come?" asked Llama. "Eh?" asked the barman. "How come?" she repeated. "How come you need a licence to use magic?" "Because it's so bloody dangerous!" replied the barman. "Even a fifth class wizard can start fires, and a fourth class fire-ball like the one you just did here could take a man's head off! That's why there are strict laws to control ALL magic use. Otherwise, this place would be an anarchy." "I suppose you've got a point there." conceded Llama. Percy and Sick nodded in agreement. "Look," said the barman, "It look's like you got away with it this time. If the M.P.'s were coming, they'd have been here by now. Just do me a favour, you two, and don't do any more magic in here without permission, please?" This last comment was directed at Percy and Sick. "Uh, okay." they both agreed. "We won't do any more magic. Promise." "What about me?" asked Llama. "What about you?" replied the barman. "Everyone knows that only men can do magic. Even The Maker himself was a man." "Oh." said Llama. "And what would you do If I said I was The Maker?" she asked. "I'd laugh so hard I'd probably cry," chuckled the barman, "mind you, Missy, there's some as would strike you down for blasphemy, so I shouldn't go making any such impossible claims if I were you." "Oh." said Llama. "But what would you do if she WERE The Maker?" asked Percy. The barman guffawed long and loud. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he leant on the bar and answered, "That's no more possible sir than walking on the moon. Her, The Maker!" and he continued chuckling to himself as he served another customer. When he returned, Sick asked him, "Why couldn't she be The Maker? If he's supposed to be so all-powerful, why couldn't he turn himself into whatever he wanted to look like? I mean, it is just possible that she could be The Maker, isn't it?" "Hmmm. I suppose I have to agree with that." said the barman, looking at Llama suspiciously, "But why would he want to?" "Who can say why The Maker would do anything?" replied Sick. "True enough." agreed the barman, "but you are going to have a hard time convincing anyone that she's The Maker!" "But what if I was?" asked Llama, coyly. "I don't think I'd believe you unless you could prove it." stated the barman. "Okay," agreed Llama, "What do you want me to do?" "Eh?" asked the barman, perplexed. "What do you want me to do to prove that I am The Maker?" she asked. "Oh." said the barman, "Well, umm. It's got to be something that even a first class wizard couldn't do, I suppose. Let's see." "Of course," interrupted Sick, "If she really is The Maker, then she may choose not to prove it to you anyway." "What do you mean?" asked the barman. "Well," explained Sick, "If she really is The Maker, then she doesn't have to prove it to you, or anyone, cos she really can do anything she wants. Like do something really nasty and horrible to people who refuse to believe her. You know, turn them into frogs, or something worse. Especially people who laugh at her. I understand," and he gave Llama a meaningful look, "that she gets a little carried away with magic when she's angry." "Oh!" said the barman. "Um. Er. Yes, I see your point exactly... Sorry, no offence Miss, I didn't mean..." "That's alright," interrupted Llama, "I understand." "That would explain why the Magic Police didn't show up, though." mused the barman, following another train of thought through a series of complicated junctions right back into the engine yard. "Eh? Why not?" asked Llama, puzzled. "Well," explained the barman, "If you had been like a regular wizard, then your use of magic would have had to draw on the natural reserves of magic energy in the area. The Magic police monitor these thaumic fluctuations, and that's how they catch unauthorised magic users. But, being The Maker, well, when you want to do magic, you don't have to draw on existing thaumic energy supplies. no, you actually generate whatever you need." "So there are no fluctuations for the Magic Police to home in on, is that right?" asked Llama. "That's right," agreed the barman. "Tell me something," asked Percy, "How come you know so much about magic?" "Family business." replied the barman, "My father was one of four second-grade wizards in the city. It was always assumed when I was little that I would follow in his foot-steps, so he started teaching me the ropes from a very early age. Then he went and got himself killed, and that put me right off magic. And so, well, here I am!" "Oh." replied Percy. "Only I just wondered, you know. 'Cause you did seem to know an awful lot for someone not in the trade." "Hmmm." said the barman, "Excuse me, miss, but I just gotta ask you. Is El Vyss with you?" "Huh?" asked Llama, bewildered. "Well, there's this phrase see." he explained. "When someone dies, it's said that they've gone to meet The Maker. So, I was wondering, if he was really dead, then you'd know, right? But if he was still alive, then you wouldn't have seen him." "I've seen you, and you're still alive," pointed out Llama. "Ah. Good point. So you're not going to tell me, then?" "No. It wouldn't be fair." The barman sighed, and turned to serve another customer.
Morning broke over the city of Noeh T'Parc, and the probing rays of the rising sun shone right into one of the thousands of alleys in the city. As with most alleys, especially those that lurked behind public drinking houses, this one was full of boxes and crates and other rubbish. What made this one more important than all the other alleys in the city this morning, however, were the three prone bodies lying amidst the boxes. Unsure what to do, the sunlight flooded in and poked and prodded the bodies a bit until one of them groaned in response and batted a hand at it. The sunlight skitted away, but when the body failed to stir further, it crept cautiously forward and peeked under an eyelid. The tired, bloodshot eyeball twitched in the unexpected light and started to send rapid and urgent warning messages to the brain. The brain, still enveloped in a alcoholic funk, tried to ignore the messages coming from the eyeball, which in turn tried harder to get the message through to the brain. By this time the eyeball was doing the ocular equivalent of jumping up and down and screaming "FIRE! FIRE!" The brain continued to ignore it. The eyeball decided it was now time to employ dirty tactics. It quickly flashed up an image of an extremely sexy naked girl. The brain, in it's alcoholic fog, took a few micro-seconds to respond and kick in the appropriate instincts. The body suddenly sat bolt-upright, both eyes wide open and focused straight ahead. The brain was standing to attention, ready for action, as were various other bodily organs. "Huh? Whuh? Where am I?" asked the body, looking around. The sudden movement of the head caused a herd of elephants to stampede across the inside of the skull. When they had finally settled down to mild grazing again, Percy glanced around. A shadow moved across the entrance to the alleyway, and slithered up towards the threesome. The conscious body watched the shadow approach. There was something distinctly familiar about it. The shadow fell across the pile of boxes amongst which the three bodies were lying. Picking itself up, it brushed itself down and straightened up. It seemed to shimmer for a second or two, and then, where the shadow had been stood, was a man, clad in armour. "Oh Shit." groaned Percy. The armour-clad man looked puzzled. "Er, excuse me..." he said. "What?" asked Percy, wincing. "Well, it's just I was supposed to meet some people here..." he continued. "Don't shout." moaned Percy. "Jeez, so you mean there's gonna be more of you people crowding in here in a minute? That's all I need. Hangover of the year, and the local round table decides to hold a convention in the alley I want to throw up in. So, how many is it?" "Eh?" asked Oof, who hadn't understood a word of what Percy had just mumbled. "Just who is it you are supposed to meet?" asked Percy, again. "Oh!" replied Oof, "It's my Destiny see." "No." answered Percy, who didn't see. "Umm, I think the people I'm supposed to be meeting are supposed to already be here." explained Oof, "Only the legend isn't too good on small details." "The only people here already, besides you, is us..." commented Percy, looking around to make sure. "Oh, shit." "Yes, you're right!" smiled Oof. "Uh, why were you supposed to be meeting these people, er, um, I mean, us here?" asked Percy cautiously. "Because it's my Destiny." said Oof, proudly. "Destiny?" queried Percy. "Yes," replied Oof, "You see, I am the Lost Hero, and this I am wearing is the Armour Of The Goits, forged by The Maker's own hand, it's said, and it's my Destiny to come to this place at this time to meet with The Maker and his companions and accompany them on their Quest. And I'm very pleased to meet you, er, Maker. Sir." "Oh. I'm not The Maker." said Percy, taking a few seconds longer than normal to digest all this. "But if you're not The Maker..." asked Oof. "Then who is?" finished off Percy. "Oh don't worry, you've found the right group. If you want to know who The Maker is, then I suggest you ask her over there." He indicated the comatose form of Llama. "When she's awake, and not quite so hungover." he added. Sick groaned, rolled over, and lived up to his name. Percy turned away, the sight made him want to join in. Oof watched in disgust. "Just what did you do to get in this state?" He asked. "It must have been a mighty foe indeed to have bested three of The maker's companions!" "Oh, we just had a little drinking session." replied Percy. "And a bit of magic practice." added Sick, having finished. "Ow, shit, my head. Who's the sardine impressionist? What's he want?" "I dunno who he is." replied Percy, "But he want's to come with us. He says it's his density." "Destiny." corrected Oof. "I am The Lost Hero. my name is unimportant." "Pleased to meet ya, unimportant." said Sick, extending a grimy hand. "You got a shorter name, or a nick-name or something we can call you?" "Uh, yes." replied Oof. "My name's Oof." "Oof?" questioned Percy, "Is that all? No Surname or anything?" "Oof Harted." said Oof, grimacing. "It wasn't my fault. It was the beer!" cried Percy and Sick in unison. "No, that's my name." explained Oof, testily. "Oof. Harted." "Oh." said Percy. "You poor bastard." said Sick. "Just call me Oof." said Oof. "I don't think she's going to wake up." said Percy looking at Llama. "I think you're right." agreed Sick. They agreed that Oof was the only one in a fit state to carry her, and so a few minutes later, two scruffy, sick looking individuals and a guy dressed in fancy armour and carrying an unconscious girl in his arms emerged from the alley. It took them a little while to work out where they had left the other's, but eventually by retracing their steps along all the pubs within a hundred yards stagger of each other, they found the inn.
CHAPTER 19: "Be a glass of water, and get really drunk!"
Back at the inn, Oof was busy explaining how he came to join the group to those present, i.e. H'rutt, DeOre, Beast, Percy and Sick. Llama was still unconscious and so she had been left in her room to sleep it off. H'Rutt was examining Oof's armour. A dark slate grey in colour, the surface was engraved with intricate symmetrical patterns, and the neck and wrist joints were sealed tight to Oof's skin. Oof explained that there were a series of panels down the side of the body underneath each arm, which when pressed did different things. One released the seals on neck, cuffs, waist and ankles, whilst another caused them to seal up. Another panel caused the armour to employ some powerful magic, which rendered the wearer almost invisible. Other functions still gave the wearer the strength of ten men, or even the ability to fly, although Oof admitted that he had not mastered that particular skill yet, as it scared the shit out of him. H'Rutt commented on the fact that the armour was in perfect condition - not battle-scarred, dinted, or even scratched. Oof invited him to try to mark the surface, and H'Rutt and the others were most impressed when he failed to be able to do so. Oof explained about his Destiny, and the Legend of the Lost Hero, whom he was supposed to be, and how he had discovered the armour. Just as he reached the end of his story, Llama came downstairs. "Hi everybody!" she said smiling. Percy and Sick groaned. "Aren't you the slightest bit hungover?" moaned Percy, jealous. "No, why?" she asked. "Don't you remember last night?" asked Sick. "Uh... No... not really... what happened?" replied Llama. "We got very drunk... and you did some magic..." explained Percy. "WHAT!" roared DeOre. Percy and Sick dove under the table for cover. Everyone else looked very startled. "You did some magic?" asked DeOre. "Er... yes, I think I did." replied Llama, cautiously. "Why? What's wrong with that?" "That PROVES that your really The Maker!" screamed DeOre, triumphantly. "Women can't do magic - it's something to do with hormones..." "Oh. And I thought it was cos their tits got in the way." muttered H'Rutt to Beast. DeOre ignored them. "So the only way you could possibly do any magic is if you were the Maker himself... er, herself... whatever." "Oh." said Llama. Sick looked at Percy. "I was hoping it was all a bad, alcohol-induced dream." he said. Percy nodded agreement. Why do I have the feeling that this is a lot worse news than it sounds?" he commented. Llama looked round at the faces all turned to look at her. She shrugged. "Okay, so I'm the Maker." she admitted, " So? What am I supposed to do about it?" "How about getting us out of this bloody crazy adventure?" suggested Sick. Unfortunately no-one heard him.
The door to the inn swung open. An attractive young woman entered. All eyes turned on her in an instant. She had flaming red hair, hung halfway down her back, big, green eyes, and a perfect figure. She glanced round the room quickly, as if she were looking for someone, but didn't really expect to find them here, as this was the tenth place she'd tried this morning. She looked again, fixing her startled gaze on H'Rutt and Percy. When she seemed to decide that yes, it was them that she was looking for, she approached their table. "Excuse me," she said. "Anytime!" exclaimed Percy. "Wha...?" asked the girl. "You wouldn't happen to be, uh, Percy and H'Rutt, would you?" "That's them!" cried a familiar voice from the door. Percy cringed. Stood, silhouetted in the doorway, was a shabby looking figure, with one leg still bandaged and leaning heavily on a crutch. He carelessly brushed the hair out of his eyes again. "Hi guys!" he called. "Hello, Amanda! Shit, I was beginning to think I'd never find you lot again." "Hi Yeti." said Percy. "We wondered where you'd got to. Fancy a beer?" "Sure!" replied Yeti, and the two of them went to the bar. "Amanda?" hissed Sick to Llama. "Oh shit." replied Llama in a whisper back. "He doesn't know. Any of it. About me being Llama, or The Maker. He disappeared before you lot found out any of that. Shit shit shit. How am I gonna explain it all?" A loud shriek of "WHAT?!!!" and "Fuck off, no WAY!" from the bar answered her question. "Looks like you don't have to." said Sick, "I think Percy's gone and explained for you!" Percy and Yeti returned soon after, with Yeti giving Llama a peculiar look. Megan coughed. She was still stood quietly to one side. "OH! I'm sorry." said Yeti, looking embarrassed. "Please, Megan, sit down. Everybody, this is Megan. Megan, meet the, er, gang."
Once everyone had introduced themselves to Megan, and she had related the tale of how she and her father had found Yeti embedded in a cliff and nursed him back to health, they settled down to discussing the business of the quest in hand. They all agreed that their best bet was to press on up the mountain to the monastery as quickly as possible. Once there, they would scout the area, with the hope of sneaking through the monastery grounds under cover of darkness and proceeding uninterrupted up the mountain to the hermit's cave. No-one seemed to bother to ask what they should do once they got there, or how they were planning to get back down again. An argument broke out though when it was discovered that Megan was going along as well. It seemed that Yeti had promised to take her on the adventure in return for looking after him. No-one thought it was safe for her to go, but Megan was adamant, and insisted she was going, if she had to sneak along after them once they left. That settled it.
They spent the rest of the day formalising their plans, locating the city library, finding copies of the maps they required, buying equipment and provisions, and then, of course, getting very drunk.
Morning broke over the city of Noeh T'Parc. A few early-rising (or late-descending) wizards quickly got together, picked up the pieces, and stuck it all back together before anyone else noticed.
Much, much later in the day, (about early afternoon), once the hustle and bustle of the city had come and died away again into that quiet period that you get just after lunch in hot places, the group of weary, bad-tempered, and extremely hungover adventurers got up. H'Rutt set about organising everyone to getting ready to set off on the journey again the next day. Sick proclaimed loudly that he hadn't known anyone who seemed to spend more time preparing for journeys than actually going on them. H'Rutt just snorted in reply, and carried on. Megan made herself invaluable by offering to organise the provisions, and soon set off for the market with Yeti and Sick in tow. Beast declared that he needed some space, and decided to leave the city, promising to meet them on the road north once they set out. DeOre grabbed Llama and dragged her and Llama's "dead" body off to visit the Guild of Wizards, where he had been all the previous day. Percy tagged along, since he didn't have anything better to do. After all, it might just get interesting, with Llama going up against the top fifty or so wizards.
As they approached the huge black metallic gates, Percy felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, as if there were a massive static electrical charge in the air. A faint smell of burning tin wafted across his nose, and a high-pitched ringing sound echoed around his inner ear. DeOre rapped on the gates, his hand seeming to disappear into the black metal as if it were a liquid, then he stood back expectantly. A tall, broad shouldered figure emerged by seeming to melt through the surface of the gate. He was wearing what could only be described as wizard's robes. However, instead of the usual rotund, scraggly-bearded and ill-conditioned image that Percy was expecting, this specimen was huge, with muscles rippling and threatening to burst out of the robe at any minute. "Yes?" boomed the wizard, looking at DeOre. "Oh. It's you. What was it you wanted again?" "Ahem." coughed DeOre. "If it please you, Sire, I have brought the one I believe to be The Maker to present before the guild council." "Oh, have you indeed?" boomed the wizard, peering more closely at Percy. "This scrawny specimen is The Maker?" he asked. "Surely you can't be serious! A level five spell would wrestle out of his control in two seconds flat!" "Uh, no." replied DeOre. "Not him. Her." he indicated Llama. The wizard turned his huge bulk and peered at Llama. His eyes widened, his hand shot up to his mouth, and his huge frame began to shake. "Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Now I KNOW you're joking!" he roared, laughing his head off. Slowly he sobered up. Next he addressed DeOre in a much more serious tone. "I don't know what you're trying to pull, but don't waste the council's time. Be off with you now, and don't trouble us again with your wild claims." With that, he turned and melted back through the gate. "Hmmmmph!" snorted Llama, indignantly. "Laugh at me would he?" "Yes, that's what he did." said Percy. "Don't we all?" "Harrummmph!" snorted Llama again, even more indignantly. DeOre looked crestfallen. Llama walked over and tapped the surface of the gate carefully. It was very very solid, metallic, and icy cold to the touch. She banged harder. Not a sound came from the surface she was pounding. "What the hell is this stuff?" she asked, perplexed. "Urinium alloy." answered DeOre. "What's that?" asked Percy. "The toughest metal known," explained DeOre. "Impervious to any heat, even dragon breath, the deepest cold, rust, acid corrosion, ageing, basically any force known to magic. Not even dragon's tooth can scratch it, and they can chew up diamonds, you know." "Are you taking the piss?" asked Percy. "Absolutely not." replied DeOre. "There's no way you could break that down. You couldn't even mark it." "What about a nuclear explosion?" asked Percy. "What?" asked DeOre. "A nuclear explosion." said Percy, "I say we get a nuclear bomb, and let it vapourise those gates of the face of the planet." "I bet it wouldn't." muttered DeOre. "Never mind." interrupted Llama, "A bomb would wipe out the city anyway. No, I'll get us inside." "How?" asked Percy and DeOre together. "I'll think of something." she replied. "I was afraid she was going to say that." moaned Percy.
CHAPTER 20: "Do prostitutes go to heaven? Like fuck do they!"
Llama examined the gates again. Tall, black, wide, and impervious, she couldn't even see a gap for the hinges where the gates were attached to the walls on either side... "Ah ha!" she declared, smiling to herself. She took a step back from the gates, and aimed a well placed kick at the immense blackness. Naturally he r foot came off worse. "Ow! ow, ow, ow. Shit." she moaned, hopping about and nursing her toes. "Well, that was pretty stupid." commented Percy. "Alright!" snapped Llama, "I know." She turned to face DeOre. "Not very clever, these wizard friends of yours, are they?" she commented. "Uh, well," dithered DeOre, "They are the greatest wizards in the land. But, you know what they say. All brawn and no brains..." "Eh?" interrupted Percy. "Are you trying to tell me that all the wizards on this council look like that Arnold Schwarzennegger impressionist we saw just now?" "Yes." replied DeOre. "How come?" asked Percy. "I mean, I always pictured wizards as being fat little old men. Brainy fat little old men, no doubt, but fat, not very fit and healthy, little old men who smoke alot." "With beards." he added. "Ugghh!" exclaimed DeOre, "How do they avoid setting fire to their faces?" "Never mind that," snapped Llama, "Explain why all the wizards look like they've been taking steroids?" "Huh?" asked DeOre, "Oh, nevermind. The reason for their great physical prowess, (and distinct lack of mental ability) is that handling spells is a very physically demanding occupation. The smallest of conjuration's is like trying to wrestle a Rottweiler for a ten-pound steak. And these are the top wizards, they have to deal with spells that could demolish mountains if handled incorrectly. So naturally the more physically capable tend to do best in the field. Not to mention a distinct lack of imagination." "Why a lack of imagination?" asked Percy. "So they can't think of the possibly horrendous consequences should they cock it up..." explained DeOre. "Oh." said Percy. "Anyway, back to the matter in hand. Have you found some way to open the gates?" DeOre asked Llama. "No..." said Llama, "But I have figured out a way in..." "How?" asked Percy. "Simple!" said Llama, "Think Laterally." "You always were better at thinking sideways than me." admitted Percy. "That's 'cause my starsign is Cancer, the crab." replied Llama. "Eh?" asked Percy. "Oh!. So, how do we get in?" "Well, this council of oh-so-powerful wizards have gone and magicked up the world's most indestructible gate, right." stated Llama. "Yes, so?" agreed Percy. "Pity they forgot about the rest of the walls." She finished. "Oh!" said Percy, a light of understanding dawning across his face. DeOre slapped himself on the forehead with his hand. "Now why didn't I think of that?" he asked the open air. "Stand back." warned Llama. "Why? Can't we just climb over?" asked Percy, standing back anyway. "We could," said Llama, "but I'm a bit pissed of with the way this council's treated us so far, and I intend to let them know about it." "Oh." said Percy, taking cover. Llama took a few more steps back, then ran and took a huge jump at the wall, feet first, in a flying kick. Both feet landed squarely on the wall, which absolutely ignored her futile effort, and remained just as stubbornly upright as it had before. "Ow! Oof!" cried Llama as she landed in a heap on the floor. Percy rushed over and helped her to her feet. "Shit, I think I twisted and ankle..." she moaned. "Well, that did alot." said DeOre, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "Shut up!" snapped Llama, "Boy, now I'm REALLY pissed off..." she span about on her good foot, and stared malevolently at the offending gates. Raising both arms straight out in front of her, she clenched both hands into fists, then pointed the index finger and the little finger of each hand towards the gates. With a deft flick of the wrist, she snapped each hand through a ninety degree turn in opposite directions. The she folded her arms and sat down cross legged on the floor, a smug, self-satisfied smile on her face. Percy stared at the gates. They looked totally unchanged. He looked at Llama, puzzled, then back at the gates. A thin wisp of vapour curled off the surface of the gates, quickly spreading until smoke and steam were pouring off the gates surface in a widening circle. Impossibly, the metal of the gates actually seemed to be melting and running, until a large gaping hole was left melted in the centre of the gates. The molten slag hissed and steamed as it cooled in a pool on the floor. DeOre stood with his eyes wide-open, looking glazed. "Wha... How... That's IMPOSSIBLE!" he cried, rushing forward to examine the molten remnants more closely. "What the hell, How did you do it?" "Er, it's a bit difficult to explain." said Llama, sheepishly. "Try us." demanded Percy. "Er, well, I used microwaves." explained Llama. "You see, I got some of the microscopic particles in the metal of the gate to start waving at the particles next to them. These particles would then wave back, and the next lot of microscopic particles would see this too, and they would start waving, and so on. And all this waving, which was quite vigorous, generates alot of heat, which caused the gate to melt." "Oh, no." groaned Percy. "Don't look now," muttered DeOre, "but I think we're in trouble." Several heads had appeared on the inside of the hole and were peering at the damage with alarmed expressions on their faces. "Oh shit." muttered Percy. "And then some!" agreed DeOre, "I don't think they're going to be very happy about that..." One by one the wizards stepped forward through the hole, careful not to touch any of the still warm edges. As each of them emerged, they straightened up to their full height, revealing a row of huge, muscle-bound specimens who would have put the Chippendales to shame. And every single one of them, to a man, looked very angry. Percy sidled quietly behind DeOre. DeOre snuck round behind Percy. They both shot behind some nearby barrels for cover. "WHO," bellowed one of the wizards, "WHO THE HELL DID THIS?" he indicated the melted gates. "It wasn't me!" whispered Percy, shrinking further behind the barrels. He had a nasty suspicion they weren't going to be enough cover. "It was her!" squeaked DeOre, sticking a hand out above the barrels and pointing at Llama. The wizards all glanced at Llama. Several of them even gave a second, longer, more approving glance after the first. The wizard who was speaking however, just sneered and flicked his fingers. The barrels in front of Percy and DeOre exploded upwards, showering bits of burning wood and metal hoops down upon the two cowering figures of Percy and DeOre. "Right," he bellowed again, but this time not quite so loud. He pointed a finger at the two. "which one of you two was it?" "It wasn't us, it was HER, honest!" protested Percy. DeOre nodded. The tall wizard looked puzzled. "I can tell you're telling the truth," he said quietly, "and yet I know what you say is impossible. A mere girl could not do this..." he indicated the gates again. "And yet," he mused, "this too is impossible." "Not if she were The Maker!" blurted DeOre. "She is, she is!" insisted Percy. The tall wizard turned to Llama. He eyed her up and down. Llama stared back, a hard, determined glint in her eye. "This can't be true!" stated the wizard. Several of the other wizards sidled in behind him. "Yeah?" said Llama, almost sneering the word. "Uh-Oh." muttered Percy, "I recognise that tone. It means he's, sorry, I mean she's pissed." "But she hasn't been drinking..." questioned DeOre. "No, I mean pissed off." explained Percy. "And that's bad, right?" asked DeOre. "Very bad." agreed Percy. "If she says she doesn't give a fuck, then get ready to duck. Or better yet, run very, very fast." "Why did you melt our gate?" asked the wizard, "It was supposed to be indestructible. Do you have any idea how much effort it took to make a gate like that?" he berated her. "I don't give a fuck." said Llama. Percy and DeOre scuttled off down the road as quickly as they could without standing up. When they rounded the corner, they straightened up and started legging it full pelt. "What?" asked the wizard, then "WHAT!" he roared. Slinging his wizard's cloak off, he rolled up his sleeves, and began waving his hands about. "Uh, like, I'm really scared. Not." taunted Llama. Fireball after huge fireball flew at Llama, exploding on impact. Llama disappeared in sudden incandescence. When the glare subsided, it revealed a patch on the wall behind her glowing red, and the floor surrounding her was scorched black. Several of the wizards cowering behind the leader gasped. Where Llama had stood was a gleaming chrome-plated female figure. The silver-clad figure examined the perfectly formed metallic nails on her left hand. The wizard, who was sweating now, cursed, and made another gesture in the air. Thousands of needles appeared in the air before him, and shot towards the silver-clad woman. Those that shot past embedded themselves in the cooling wall. Those that hit just fell off the silver plate without leaving a mark. The silver figure looked up from examining her nails. Then went back to examining the nails of the other hand. The wizard, who by now was sweating profusely, made another series of gestures, and collapsed to his knees. The sky crackled, and a huge bolt of lightning shot out of a clear blue sky and straight down at Llama. Llama's right hand shot straight in the air, seemingly catching the lightning, which poured down. Her left hand pointed directly at the wizard on his knees, and the lightning poured from her fingertips and caught him square in the chest. The other wizards, who had been hiding behind their leader, dove for cover as the lightning tore into him.
"Can we stop running yet?" panted DeOre as he and Percy pelted down yet another street. "Aren't we safe?" "I don't know," replied Percy, puffing. He glanced back over his shoulder at the lightning pouring down several streets away. "I don't think she's started yet." There was a muffled explosion and the lightning stopped. "Why not?" asked DeOre, slowing to a jog. "Cos I haven't heard any major explosions." explained Percy. "We probably shouldn't leave her to handle it all on her own?" asked DeOre, experiencing a pang of conscience. "And what are we going to do against the top wizards in the world?" asked Percy. "Besides getting toasted, I mean." "I don't know." said DeOre, "I just think we ought to go back and help her. Make sure she's alright." "Oh, she'll be fine." said Percy, resting against a wall. "It's the other guys you ought to be worrying about." "Yeah, well, that may be so, but I'm still going back." said DeOre, striding off purposefully in the direction they had come from. Percy cursed under his breath and ran after him. "Uh, which way did we come from?" asked DeOre.
One of the braver of the wizards stuck his head out first. He was probably going to wish he hadn't. He stared at the blackened remains of the chief wizard, then at the silver-clad female figure standing a few yards away looking for all the world as if several million volts of electricity hadn't just poured through her. The figure's head turned and looked directly at him. The wizard wet his pants as it marched over to where he was cowering. A silver hand grasped him by the hair and pulled him out of his hiding place. "OW! OW! OW! Please don't kill me, please, please?" begged the wizard. Several others poked their heads out to see what was going on. Llama dropped him on the floor next to the chief wizard's smoking remains. "Give me your cloak." she demanded. "My... my... my cloak?" stuttered the wizard in abject terror and confusion. "Yes, your cloak. Give it to me. Now!" repeated Llama. "Why do you want my cloak?" asked the wizard, suspiciously, unfastening the hasp that held it in place. Llama gave an exasperated sigh and snatching it from him, wrapped it around herself. "Because," she explained from the muffled confines of the cloak, as she ducked completely inside it, "I don't have any clothes on!" She emerged back to her normal "skin" self. "Oh." said the wizard, then realisation kicked him in the side of the head. "Oh!" he repeated. The other wizards emerged cautiously from their hiding places. "Yes." said Llama, "Now, is there anywhere round here I can get some clothes?"