page II

At hearing this, Lyricaen threw back his head and laughed!  He thought "well, maybe I got some of my lyrical talents from my Mother..."  A stern glance from the stocky hobbit led the son's attention back to his father's tale.  "Ya mus' understand, that for each wizard, the mana flows differently.. for only one of the elements seeps into the soul and links the mage to the power of the earth.  For some is the fires of the sun that leap from the wizard's hand, or jolts from the stormy arcs felled from the skies, or as is the case for Me, the frigid cold that paints white the windows in winter an kin even halt the raging rivers til the springtime warmth yet returns."  Palooka's dismissive gesture is quickly followed by a rather curt "Well, this ya already knew!"  Lyricaen just now noticed that as his father ran his hands over the dark tiled worktable an intricate pattern of frost followed the wizard's fingers.  Swirls, sharp lines and sparkling patterns of ice were drawn, lingered and then faded away as the wizard's hand moved on to trace new designs.

"It was that night that I was taught that very same lesson by a rather strange man, clothed in spidersilk the ebon hue of an inky moonless night.  Even the longsword at his waist was blacker than a really dark black longsword should be!"  Leaning back in his chair, the wizard motions to Mona to bring him some green tea and pauses to ask on the state of preparations for supper.  As usual, the rotound chimpanzee shrugged and let her face erupt in a grin that threatened to pull her lips up an over her forehead.  Palooka just rolled his eyes and got back to ending this tale and getting on to bigger and better things.  "Lyricaen, my son..  I did on that very night walk the beach with the Lord Ronan..  Was not a dream, or a fancy or any other such thing.  He showed me that I had a talent, not entirely unlike that you have with words and songs.  A talent for bending the flow of the mana to my will, to my uses."  Lyricaen's jaw dropped as the full weight of his father's words hit home.  For a wizard to actually see the Arkati master of the night was almost unheard of.  "My father, you're certainly not saying that..."  The wizard winked and said "I am.  I walked the shore with Ronan, and I felt through him how I could reach out to the power in the land and pull from the cold depths of the sea, the mana to use in m'spells.  Twas that night that I left my village, and came here to Wehnimer's Landing to find my fortune.  Thank the Lord of Dreams that I found a friend in the Archmage Crylone.  He continued my training and prodded me along the right path, yup yup.

Lyricaen nodded to his father and said "there is so much else I'd like to know, so many things you've seen.  When,, will it be 'safe' to ask you more about your past?"  a small chuckle escaped from the bard's lips.

Palooka Thumbles - Mage - father and mentor to his son Lyricaen glances up, gestures and utters a phrase of magic.  Soon the ground beneath Lyricaen suddenly becomes molten and begins to boil violently.  Lyricaen just barely manages to dodge to the side; nearly bowling over a waddling chimpanzee carrying a try of spinach lasagna with sun-dried tomato and garlic sauce.  The stern faced halfling reached out, pulled his son to his feet and said in a much more mischevious voice: "you'd have been sorry if Mona had dropped my supper......"

The End, Actually the beginning but...

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