Going Pear Shaped. A tale of wizards, lizards and galvanised tubing salesmen.

Chapter 3: 'Oh, and thanks for the milk.'

Chapter 3:  'Oh, and thanks for the milk.'

Deep in the subterranean regions of the Citadel of Gila was the Chamber of the Dark Mages. 

The Dark Mages had been recruited from the best of the Xardanian wizards and trained up by Moebius himself in spells and magic of the highest power.  Their one sworn aim was to bring the whole of Pyrus under the mighty heel of the Xardanian race.

Moebius Wyrmface swept his jet-black robe around him and entered.  Inside, the Dark Mages were standing in the Chamber, waiting patiently for their Master.

Candles flickered in recesses along the walls, casting ominous dark shapes across the stone walls.  Hung high up over the end wall was a dark drape carrying the symbol of the Coven of Dark Mages - a scaly fist clutching a pear.

Moebius glided down the centre isle between the ranks, climbed the rostrum at the end and turned to face them.  He raised his arms.

'Greetings, Dark Mages,' he said to the assembled lizards.  'I have some important news to impart.'

A low murmur rippled through the lizards.

'The campaign has begun.  The invasion is imminent'

The murmur turned into a more pronounced mumble.  Even a few tails twitched.

Moebius continued:  'We Dark Mages will play a pivotal role in the conquests to come.'

There were more mumblings.  A few of the wizards turned and nodded to one another other eagerly.

'General Klawfist is pleased with the success of our Inter-Dimensional Entity Transfer.'

At the back of the room, one of the lizards shuffled uncomfortably.

'We can rest in the knowledge that a good job has been done and our powers are being felt as we speak by the inhabitants of Port Packham.  We can start...'

A small lizard at the back slowly raised a claw into the air.

'Excuse me,' it said.

The others turned and stared at him in disbelief.  No one interrupted a Master Wizard in full flow - not if they wanted to remain vertical.  Moebius glared.

'What is your name, lizard?'

'Smallscale, Master.'

'And what do you wish to say, er… Smallscale?'

Smallscale stood on tiptoe.  He was quite a short lizard, and in a land where nearly every other lizard stood over seven feet tall, this was a habit he had got used to.

'Well, Master, you see, it's like this,' he gulped.

'Yes?'

'I, er, I don't think the Inter-Dimensional Entity Transfer has turned out quite the way you planned.  Sort of.'

The other wizards started edging away from Smallscale like oil from around a drop of detergent.  Moebius stared at Smallscale.  His eyes narrowed into two glowing red lines.

'What are you suggesting, Smallscale?

The circle of empty space around Smallscale had grown wider.  A master wizard knew the sort of spells that could leave you wearing your insides on your outsides.  Smallscale took a deep gulp of air. 

'It's just that, well, last night, when all our spells combined… well, I felt that… something went wrong.  Sort of.'

The assembled wizards held their collective breath.  Hadn't Moebius himself controlled and steered that final spell casting session?  He'd more or less accused Moebius of incompetence. Some of the wizards covered their eyes with their hands so they wouldn't have to see whatever it was that Smallscale was about to be turned into.