Crater Creator

9. Lost in a Dream

It feels like I have been sitting here for years. There is nothing in this room to amuse me with, no books about their history or the inner workings of the Dream World. The Babbling Vegetation lies on a balcony facing an open field. I cannot ask the Babbling Vegetation, he knows near to nothing about anything. I cannot sleep because of two things, one I am not tired, and two if I was I do not want to fall asleep. Not knowing what the Guise might do something to me. I have just been thinking about what I have experienced so far in this adventure. Have I wanted this for so long? To get out of Gwasgow and see the world, fight monsters for a cause, rescue princesses just like the tales, and meet all kinds of new friends. When Nalak asked me to travel with him, all my intellect left my mind, and my dreams rushed in to take over. Why I am doing this? That is the question; I am I doing it for gold and riches? How about the new races I get to either fight or befriend? I know by now it is too late to turn back and go home. There is no way I can fight or even find my way back home. I fear as though I just might not return to Gwasgow. Thinking this frightens me, I cannot return to my home. I will not see my plushy, wonderful, and cozy bed again. Any chance I get I am leaving this place and I am heading back home.

Although I did have a good run with Nalak, saving is his arse quite a few times. He probably will not find it kind that I doubt the journey alongside him. Bah, he will not care; I am just one back to watch.

I decided to just lie on the bed and wait for something or someone to aid me someway or somehow. As I begin drifting into sleep mode, I hear a light knock at the door. I shrug my shoulders and holler toward the door, "Come in and join the party!" The door creaks open and a small Pure Elven child peaks his head through. With his blue hood sheathing his face and head, he wears a blue heavy coat with green trousers. His clothes cover every inch making it so that I cannot see his skin. He asks something in the Elven tongue. I said while shrugging my shoulders once more, "Little boy I haven't a clue what you're babbling on about." Out of nowhere, the Babbling Vegetation says, "Ah common folk, he asked if you were ready or not." I asked the plant if he could translate for me. Nevertheless, the pain in the neck plant said that he said he does not speak Elven. "Then how did know you what he said?" "I didn't understand it just seemed like the best question," the weed replied. The little Elf shifted and leaned on a wall and watched us jibber jabber. I jumped out of the bed and continued to argue with the plant. The Guise restrained me. My back was to the door so I could not see who came.

A loud voice echoed in the room, forcing the Guise to release me. I turned to the door to find that the boy was hiding behind an Elven guard with a vorpal sword pointed at me. The Pure Elf did not look pleased to see me. My heart dropped, my hands raised, and the only words I could form was, "H- hello d-d-do you under-understand me?"

The vorpal sword was sheathed and he stepped aside as if to let someone pass by him. An Elf wearing a blue robe with golden pearls at the end of his robe approached and bowed as he sent the guard away. He bent down to my height, as I despise so much, and placed his hand upon my shoulder. His face was old and covered with a white beard. Elven words flowed out his mouth; of course, I had not a clue what he could have possibly said. All of a sudden, a shock was sent to my head and down to my feet. He held me so I did not fall, but I tried to get away from this foul-tempered Elf. "Let go of me you crazy old fart! What curse did you cast upon me?" " Stay your tongue Halfling, for I might cut it out! No danger was inflicted upon you," the old Elf screamed! "Why did you shock me then," I pointed out, "And how do you understand me?" He continued with "That 'shock' was a mere spell to translate what you say and hear, does that compute, you pint-sized man?"

Before I could think of good enough comebacks, he stopped me and apologized. "Listen I know that you are confused and probably paranoid, but you and I must be calm if we are to help each other, understand?" I took a deep breath to calm myself. With a fake smile, I pretended to ac nice by saying, "Yeah I guess so. I should probably introduce myself. I am Christopher Drinkwater, pleased to meet you, sir Elf." Then it was his turn, "That's better, I am the Pure Elf King, Lord Xandorith, but though that may difficult to pronounce for you common folk, call me Lord or King Xan."

"Wouldn't happen to know who the High King Herzad is and what had happened to him?" King Xan looked at me with a flummoxed and speechless face. "How do you know of this vile force against nature? Did the Dwarf tell you of the filth that supposedly calls himself a hero and a savior? Yes, every living and thinking being for five hundred leagues has heard of this 'Dwarven God'. Do you know of his death, young Chris?" I glared at him while thinking acrimonious thoughts, "Yes, I do indeed have heard of the tale!" "Then you must know it is and has been false for years on end, since you recovered this information from the Dwarf, he tweaked the story to make it sound like we're the enemy. The real story is everything but that.

"Over fifty years ago the Dwarves were destroying the Dwarven Mountain by blowing up mines. They began killing and slaying every creature who had made themselves at peace within the Dwarven Mountain. When we isolated ourselves to Ídchanar, we felt a powerful presence in Vintunder. It was a curse of dark magic, an evil and cursed power within that rock. If you have heard of the Tainted Elves, then you will know of their lust for the death of all who oppose and side with them. The purpose and reason are unknown to us. I and seven other Pure Elves prepared and set out to find the source. When we found the source in the deepest and darkest cave under the Dwarven Mountain, we to this day regret the sight.

"We saw that the somehow managed to find and collect hundreds of Pure Elves, both alive and deceased. They were... experimenting on them, cutting them open, and spewing their blood, organs, and tons of other foul things into a cauldron. As they mixed and added more body every second, the smoke would rise higher and higher, emitting a rotten green cloud. A foul and unholy stench emerged from the cauldron. A chant commenced from one side of the cave and worked its way around the room until everyone sang the chant. After a few minutes of nonstop chanting, there was an abrupt stop. One Tainted Elf stood and approached the cauldron. It was wearing green and red tattered clothing, with a Troll skull upon its head. It reached into the bowl to pull out a pure black ball made of hard material. We all wondered how bone and flesh transferred into the rock. That was in a different cauldron. Therefore, we assumed they were making supper.

"When they began feasting on the monstrosity that they've prepared, I and the seven snuck in a stole the black ball. It was not until we got back to Ídchanar when we figured out what it was that they created. It was a portal to another dimension; no one now is where the portal leads. We had to rid of the spatial device. Therefore, we waited for something or someone to send elsewhere.

"Our wishes were answered when a new race called Dwarves. They promised to take the portal generator to a random location. We didn't tell them what it was, so we tricked them into thinking that it is a powerful bomb, capable of destroying a whole Dwarven Mountain." Oh no, this sounds familiar, please do not tell me what I think it means. King Xan continued the story, "They accepted the 'bomb' and called it the Crater Creator." Oh, why, oh I hoped and pleaded that this is not so. "Within six months they store the ball far away from here. When they began tearing out the Dwarven Mountain, we turned the other cheek. After centuries of building in peace, they finished the castle inside a Dwarven Mountain. We would go into the Dwarven Mountain and learned of their history. It is quite interesting if you ever get the chance to look, right getting off subject. One time when we visiting their halls we felt that same presence we did long ago. It led us to the Vintunder graveyard.

It was a hard discussion to try and convinced the High Idiot Herzad what we were telling him was true. When he finally stopped laughing, he thought I was challenging his Kingship. I was not but he was too blind to see that. He sprung up from his chair and told us to leave and never come back. My young and stupid son, Gimrak, unsheathed the nearest guard's sword and killed the High King Herzad." I gestured him to stop talking and called him out, "Wait, wait you said your son Gimrak? That's not true for that is the current Dwarven king's son, King Bulhig's son." A puzzled look came into Xan's eyes, "You must be talking nonsense; this is a joke. Oh, you are not. Are you sure that everything that Nalak told you isn't all lies?" I honestly do not know what to believe now that I have heard two sides to this stupid story. "So what would happen if the Crater Creator was brought back to the Dwarven Mountain?" A sign of worry and paranoia filled his face. "The return of such would bring great harm to the land, why do ask? Do you know of someone who is planning to bring it back, if so you must tell me?" I pulled at the collar of my shirt in doubt. Can I tell him that I think that Nalak carries it when he told me that Gimrak carries it? What if I lie and he sees that I have just lied to him? Only one choice and it is a hard one, I must keep my internal trust with my brethren.

"Well, do you know who it is," King Xan stomped furiously. "No, I haven't a clue." I know he could tell I was lying, as he threw his blue cape over his shoulder, and marched out the room. While closing the door behind him, I hear, "Bring me...," then the door shut.