Lost in Glory

In the end, the High Lords ceased shouting at one another. It was not because they regained their senses, or because they decided their bickering was pointless. They simply got tired.

"Shall we proceed?" the Master of Ceremony asked. They weakly nodded. They somehow expected the Master of Ceremony to produce a list and read from it, but no. He was doing it from memory. They listened as he went through biographies of each of the forty-three candidates for the most important job around. It was pure torture. They had to sit through not only biographies of the candidates, but also of their mothers and fathers. And grandparents from both sides. And everyone on the line connecting the candidate to the deceased Emperor's family. It also meant that some people were mentioned a few times. The Master of Ceremony didn't have an ounce of mercy and recited the whole biography each time. Because of this, the High Lords had the pleasure of hearing about Lady Arghgahgatha Glowinghorse's prize-winning dancing hamsters five times, and about that one time when Lord Themisoeles Roughrat had his left eye pecked out by his own falcon six times. These were among the rarely occurring somewhat interesting events. Most were completely mundane, like births, marriages, deaths, candlelight suppers, mime performances... By the end of the litany the High Lords were barely awake.

Duke Thinoak was half-lying in his chair, his eyes almost closed and a bit of dribble was coming from his open mouth. Count Blueparrot was slumped forward, with his head lying on the table. If he was just tired, passed out or dead nobody could say. He usually resembled a vulture, and now he resembled a deceased one. The Earl held his hands together and appeared to be praying. Philigree was smiling, but it was neither his usual joyful smile, nor his even more usual sarcastic smile. It was an awful forced rictus, most likely indicating that the Hiwelthadt could snap any second. Baron Oxrabbit didn't want to surrender to boredom, so he amused himself by drawing pictures. As he had nothing to draw with, he used his fingernails, and as he had nothing to draw on, he used the table surface. Roseduck had nothing better to do, so during the speech he had been observing the emerging works of art. The end result was a heart pierced by an arrow. And by a sword. And by a halberd. There was also a huge whale. The General suspected it was the artist's rendition of the Duke. The next element was an after-effect of writing lessons the Baron had had a long time ago: a huge inscription saying 'OXXRABIT WAZ HEAR'. It was surrounded by some random flowers. The final element of the doodles was a rather rectangular moose. It appeared to be dancing, or possibly having an epilepsy attack.

"...and this concludes the presentation of the candidates." In a rare occurrence of unanimity all of the lords suddenly looked a lot happier and a bit more lively. Only a bit, because one simply cannot shrug off all of that in a second. Only the Marquis seemed completely unaffected. He seemed to be able to equally ignore anything, whether it was a bunch of dancing whores or a discussion about differences between types of celery. "If any of you has any questions concerning the candidates and their genealogy, feel free to ask."

All the eyes were pointed at the Hiwelthadt. "What? Do you expect me to ask a stupid question that would cause another hour of torment?" he asked weakly.

"Yes," the Duke simply answered.

"Wrong. I hate you, but I like myself more than I hate you."

"If there are no questions, we can either continue with the proceedings or end them for today."

"End them!" the Count shouted, and the other lords nodded in agreement. Thus ended the third day of the proceedings.

-I-I-I-I-

"The woooooolf is goooooone. Weeeee thaaaaank yooooou. Noooow weeee caaaaan reeest."

"It was our pleasure," the paladin replied graciously. Gaduria wasn't that gracious.

"Nothing pleasant about that. My ears were raped!"

"Aaaaas aaaa rewaaaard, we will giiiiive yooooou a maaaaagicaaaaal riiiiing!"

"That's nice," Gaduria replied.

"We graciously accept," the Hero said.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.

"Well? Hand it over!" Gaduria was a bit impatient. She wanted to leave this place just in case something else would appear and sing. "We don't have all eternity like you, you know."

"Weeeell weeee areeee sooooort oooof iiiiincoooorpoooooreeeeeal, yooooou knoooooow. Noooo goooood aaaaat haaaandiiiiing thiiiings ooooover!"

"So how are you going to give it to us?"

"Iiiiiit iiiiiiis iiiiiin thiiiiiird graaaaaave toooooo yoooooour leeeeeeeft."

"Do you expect us to dig it out?"

"Yeeeeeees."

They walked to the grave.

"Theeeee ooooother leeeeft!"

They walked to the correct grave and the spectre spectered away.

"All right, let's dig!" the paladin said. "Alexander, do you have a shovel?"

The dwarf gave Arthaxiom s strange look. "I left it at home today."

"Pickaxe?"

"As well."

"So you are a dwarf with neither a shovel nor a pickaxe?"

"No." Alexander was beginning to lose his patience. He was being stereotyped. Again. "I am a dwarf-impersonating gnome with neither a shovel nor a pickaxe."

There was a ghastly sigh from behind a nearby tombstone. "Theeeeeere iiiiis aaaaa shooooovel iiiiin theeeee busheeeeees," the ghost wailed. Arthaxiom looked. There was one there indeed.

"It wasn't there when I poked around before!" Alexander complained.

"Iiiiit gooooot theeeeeere iiiiiin aaaaaa mysteeeeeeerious waaaaay."

"Fair enough."

The paladin started digging. Gaduria and Alexander were sitting on a nearby gravestone and watching him dig. It was taking him quite a while and even a Hero can get tired of digging.

"Alexander, maybe you could help?"

"No, I could not. I'm cross with you because you stereotyped me!"

"I apologise."

"You apologise because you want me to help. You're out of luck."

The paladin sighed and continued digging.

"By the way, don't you think that digging up graves is evil or something?" Gaduria inquired.

"Not if a ghost tells you to do that," the paladin replied.

"You don't even know if it is this particular ghost's grave."

"Don't be silly, ghosts don't lie."

"Yes, it's not like they have beds," Alexander interjected. Nobody laughed. "Hey, it's a joke! They don't lie! Get it?" There was an awkward pause. "I guess not."

The paladin finally dug out an old wooden coffin. Only then did his companions join him. He opened the coffin, or, to be precise, he tore off the lid. Inside, there was a skeleton. The skeleton was rather ordinary, apart from a ring on one of its fingers. In spite of being inside a coffin with decomposing body and in spite of it being the middle of the night, the ring shone brightly. It was golden, encrusted with red jewels, rubies probably.

"MINE!" Gaduria shouted, pushed the others away and snatched the ring from the skeletal finger. "Mine mine mine! My preciousssssss!" She put the ring on her own finger. "Fits perfectly!"

"What does it do?" Arthaxiom asked.

"It is being pretty!"

-I-I-I-I-

On the fourth day the Master of Ceremony finally described how the election process was supposed to work. General Roseduck already knew that, because he did some reading beforehand. He was a bit curious if others did too.

"Each candidate I presented yesterday is eligible to become our next Emperor. Four votes are needed. Every High Lord has a vote. In order to start a vote on a candidate, a High Lord must submit a candidature, and one other High Lord must second it. Each High Lord may successfully submit only one candidate a day and no more than four in every ten day period. After every ten day period there are three days of break."

"What?" Duke Thinoak got up in anger. "With these rules it will take months!"

"The choice of the Emperor is not one to be made hastily," the Master of Ceremony explained. "Also, I need to note that any High Lord leaving the capital before the election is concluded will be charged with high treason, sentenced to death and executed. No exceptions."

"Nobody would dare to carry that out!" the Count protested.

"Perhaps. But that includes stripping of all titles and possessions. Execution can come later."

"What an idiot devised these silly rules?" The Duke was rather upset with the rules.

"Venerable Cruytus, the Master of Ceremony of Emperor Cassius the Fourth," General Roseduck said. "Devising rules and regulations was his hobby, and his Emperor was happy to add them to the Codex. His greatest achievements were: the Ferret Fondling Edict of 285, Tower Erecting Guidelines of 287, Limitations of Spring Moat Digging..."

"Shut up, Roseduck!" the Duke snapped at him.

"No need to shout, I was just trying to be helpful."

"I don't trust you!"

"You don't trust anyone!" the Count berated him.

"For good reason!"

"I think he trusts his chair," Philigree joked.

"Trust the Lord of Light," Earl preached.

"Trust the Sword of Might!" the Baron rhymed.

"Shut! Up!" The Duke was losing it.

"Is it your favourite saying now?" Philigree asked. "Or is it still 'Quick, bring more lard'?"

"Bzsgftf!" the Duke gurgled in fury.

"When I was young, we ate lard with lardles," the Marquis said, returning to reality for a second. Sort of.

"SHUT! UP!"

"My great grand uncle once shouted 'shut up' so loud that blood squirted from his ears," the Marquis added. "His wife was not amused."

"Because the blood squirted on her?" Philigree asked.

"No, because he was a really ugly fountain."

"SHUT! UP! SHUT! UP! SHUT! UP! I propose to vote on Menerrick Housegoose!"

"Menerrick is your nephew!" the Count pointed out.

"It is only one of his many virtues, yes."

"Let me rephrase that. I am NOT voting for Menerrick BECAUSE he is your nephew!"

"Good! I don't need your vote!"

"Let me rephrase that again. I am suggesting to OTHERS that they shouldn't vote for Menerrick because he is your nephew."

"I don't recall asking you for opinion. I submitted his candidature!"

"Apologies, but you did not. You need to do that properly." The Master of Ceremony wasn't going to allow breaches of protocol.

"FINE! I, Duke Bartholomeus Theodoricus Angus Thinoak, High Lord of the Empire, submit the candidature of Menerrick Idontremember Hisothernames Housegoose to become the next Emperor."

"The candidature of Menerrick Idonrembur Hisothermus Housegoose has been submitted. Will anyone second the motion?"

"No. He's his nephew."

"He's not holy enough."

"It's not funny enough."

"I don't care."

"I don't know what's going on."

"I second the motion."

"WHAT?"

"I, General Eneumerius Attilius Buonaparth Roseduck, High Lord Commander, second the motion," Roseduck repeated, surprising everyone. Especially the Duke.

"Very well. The motion passed. All in favour of having Menerrick Idonrembur Hisothermus Housegoose as our new Emperor please raise a hand."

Only hands of the Duke and the General rose.

"Two votes for Menerrick, five votes against. Menerrick is not chosen."

"Why did you vote for him?" the Duke challenged Roseduck.

"You didn't want me to?"

"I did! But I don't trust you!"

"Here he goes again!" the Count complained.

"May the Lord of Light bring some trust upon thee."

"AAAAAARGH!" Thinoak was reduced to intelligible screaming.

"Don't eat the table! Don't eat the table! We still need it!" the Hiwelthadt appealed.

"I ate a table once. No good," Baron Oxrabbit commented.

"When I was young, tables ate lords," Marquis de Shaggysheep remarked.

"Really?" the Count enquired.

"No. But it seemed like a good thing to say."

"Are there any other candidatures?"

Baron Oxrabbit stood up. "Yes. I propose Eusebius the Sneaky Fox!" he said triumphantly.

"WHAT?" a few lords shouted in unison.

"Even disregarding the fact that he is not on my list, you should note that Eusebius was a legendary Hero. If he even existed. If he did indeed exist, he died long ago," the Master of Ceremony explained.

"Not a problem! We should elect him, find his body and resurrect him! I will lead the expedition! He's just the man we need! He'd ride them llamas!"

General Roseduck smiled. That would be a perfect distraction. Too bad nobody would agree to that crazy idea. He himself didn't want to, it would be way too blatant. He was pushing it when he voted for Menerrick, but he simply couldn't resist seeing Thinoak go nuts. Again. Of course, it was the Duke who first expressed general feelings towards the Baron's idea.

"Oxrabbit, you're an idiot!"

"And you... you... you are fat!" The Baron wasn't a Master Insulter, but the most obvious ones were perfect for the Duke. He couldn't even deny this one. So he decided to spin it around.

"You are more dumb than I am fat!"

"For that I should challenge you to a duel!"

"Jousting! Jousting!" Philigree chanted.

"He'd break a horse!" the Count objected.

"My point exactly! It would be hilarious!"

"I would NOT break a horse!"

"Because you wouldn't be able to get on it!" the Count jeered.

"He wouldn't even try, it would run away at first sight of him!" Philigree was obviously enjoying himself.

"I've ridden horses before I'll let you know!"

"May the Lord of Light take mercy on these poor animals."

"May the Lord of Light give me patience so that I resist the temptation to smash your head with a chair!" the Count chimed in.

"If not for the Caster of Memory here, I'd smack YOUR head with a chair," the Baron defended the Earl. For some reason, he decided it wasn't threatening enough. "With Thinoak's chair!"

"Leave my chair out of it!" The Duke looked around for something to change the topic. "Roseduck! What are you so happy about?"

"Just smiling to my thoughts. Don't mind me." He was smiling to his thoughts indeed. Particularly to the one about leaving Vannard for a few minutes with the High Lords. Highlordly quarrels were all fun and games, but the General started developing a splitting headache.

"I will mind you! Stop smiling! I hate you and I don't want to see you happy!"

Roseduck at the point had quite enough. So far he was keeping quiet and letting the proceedings run their course. His goal was to avoid insulting the other lords, no need to remind them that they hated him. But his relationship with Thinoak couldn't get any worse, and he didn't want the others to see him as a pushover...

"So I suggest you pluck your eyes out! Or maybe ask lord Roughrat's descendants if they still have that falcon!"

"Good one, Ducky!" the Hiwelthadt praised. Roseduck wondered if he had come up with that nickname himself or did Vannard get creative in spreading it. Anyway, he wasn't too worried about the rest of the lords using it. They had other names for him.

"I'll pluck your eyes out you swineherd!"

"And eat them?" Philigree was restless.

"Why are you defending him, ugly?"

"Just to annoy you, fatty!"

"YES I'M FAT GET OVER IT!"

"Surely easier than to go around it."

"When I was young, the fat people went around," the Marquis said.

"Why was that?" Oxrabbit inquired.

"Doorways were narrower back then."

-I-I-I-I-

"Success! The Valkyrie Wolf will no longer threaten you!" Arthaxiom exclaimed.

"Great news, my friend!" the overjoyed Deer Lord shouted. "Great news indeed! From the very first moment I saw you, I knew you'd be the one to free us from this menace! Let us celebrate! Let's dance! Let's have The Great Deer Dance in honour of Arthaxiom the paladin and his brave companions!"

And behold, a great fire was made and a great many deer gathered. They started dancing around the fire with great joy, and Arthaxiom the paladin felt great warmth inside, because the quest he completed brought happiness to the deer. Or maybe he felt great warmth inside because he was standing too close to the great fire. In his full plate armour, of course.

"Dance, deer, dance!" the Deer Lord cheered them on. "Dance and be happy, cause now we can once again use echolocation without fear!"

"Excuse me," Alexander asked, "but what exactly is this echolocation?"

"Oh, echolocation is the ancient art of the deerfolk! If we close our eyes and shriek in a certain way, we hear the sound rebounding from objects, therefore we know where they are and don't need to look where we're going! Unfortunately we were too scared to use it recently. A deer who closed his eyes and focused on hearing got surprised by the Valkyrie Wolf's song and jumped up a tree, startled. It took us a few days to figure out how to get him down. Finally we used a beaver."

"A beaver? How did it help?"

Deer Lord looked surprised by the question. "Well, it ate down the tree, obviously."

"Ah." Alexander saw possible pitfalls of that approach, but he decided not to discuss it. "So, that echolocation thing...?"

"Jimmy, please demonstrate echolocation to our honoured guests!"

Jimmy the deer faced away from the fire, closed his eyes and shrieked. Then again and again. Finally, he started to run. He ran straight into the nearest tree.

"He's out of practice a bit," Deer Lord said.

The deer danced and danced, and paladin and his companions enjoyed themselves. It consisted of basking in glory in Arthaxiom's case and hanging around without a purpose in case of Gaduria and Alexander. Neither of the two was much for basking in glory, nor for watching dancing deer. Watching deer crashing into trees was at least amusing, but unfortunately after a few unsuccessful tries they were quite reluctant to echolocate.

"I wish they'd try again," Gaduria said. "They look so funny when they are staggering and unable to control all their legs."

"Cruel and vicious is the female mind," Alexander stated.

"Hey, it's not like I want them dead or something!"

"Yes, fortunately you don't."

"That's because the dead are no fun. Not moving, not anything. Unless they have pretty rings!" Once again she adored her new grave-robbed ring.

"Maybe Deer Lord will know if it's magical or something?" Alexander suggested. "Ahoy! Deer Lord! Could you come here for a moment and look at this ring?"

Deer Lord approached and looked at the ring. "Ring! She's got a ring!" he shouted excitedly. That got the attention of other deer. They immediately stopped dancing and gathered around Gaduria, pushing among themselves to get a better view.

"Sooo..." Gaduria asked, while backing out slowly to avoid being trampled, "what is this ring?"

"I have no idea," Deer Lord admitted, "but we deer are easily excited by rings."

-I-I-I-I-

The festivities went long into night, but when all was said and done, which wasn't much really, the morning came. And with it a painful realisation.

"So, what will we do now?" Alexander asked. "Wander around again?"

"We might have to," Arthaxiom replied. "I cannot go questless for long. Well, there was that snake..."

"No killing badgers, remember?" Gaduria reminded him angrily.

"Yes, yes, my apologies. My urge for questing clouded my thoughts."

"Nothing new there," Alexander remarked.

"Are you making fun of me again?"

"I wouldn't dare to make fun of a Hero!"

"Ah. My apologies then. I judged you too hastily."

"Do you even know what sarcasm is?" Gaduria usually was all for making fun of the paladin, but with his absolute obliviousness it wasn't even funny anymore. She decided it was time to teach him some basic concepts.

"I think it is a kind of jam my old grandma used to make..."

"If I might suggest something," Deer Lord interrupted, "maybe you should go to see the Oracle."

"The Oracle! Yes! We should do that!" The paladin was happy to be back in familiar territory. Conversation about eating a slice of bread with sarcasm would have to wait.

"But why?" Alexander inquired. "You don't even know where is the Oracle or what is the Oracle or why should you see it..."

"Uhhhh... because it sounds like something I should do! The Oracle will tell me... things... and stuff..." The paladin wasn't entirely sure what benefits the visit would bring, but one thing was sure for him. Heroes should visit Oracles. That sounded just right.

"The Oracle is a lady of great wisdom and eldritch powers," Deer Lord explained.

"Did you visit her?" Gaduria asked.

"Yes. Yes I did. She told me things... and stuff. I didn't understand half of it, and I misunderstood half of it and a half of it was supposed to be for somebody else, and a half of it was in elvish..."

"Isn't it a bit too many halves?" Alexander asked.

"Oh, she comes in many halves. Sometimes in hexagons too. It may sound strange, but that's how I remember it. You will see for yourselves."

"Is she dangerous?"

"Dangerous? No. No no no. Yes. Maybe. A little. Somewhat." Deer Lord couldn't decide.

"Great. So we go to see an Oracle while having no reason to do so, and she might be dangerous?" Gaduria wasn't too happy about that.

"Where did your adventurousness go?" Alexander asked.

"It echolocated into a tree."

"If you do not desire to join us on this journey, you can stay with the deer," Arthaxiom said.

"It would be our pleasure," Deer Lord said.

"On the other hand, maybe I'd better go with you." Gaduria still felt somewhat uneasy around the deer. "Just in case that's my destiny or something."

"Finally, you are ready to accept that you have a part to play in the Heroic story that is unfolding around me, oh transcendent forest nymph! Ouch!" Arthaxiom screamed in pain when Gaduria hit him in the helmet with her paladin-hitting branch.

"What did I tell you about calling me silly names?"

"I apologise."

"And what did I tell you about using big words you don't understand?"

"I also apologise."

"And what did I say about constantly apologising?" Alexander chimed in.

"I do not remember, but I also apologise."

"And what did I say about apologising for apologising?"

"You're ruining the learning process!" Gaduria berated the dwarf.

"I apologise."

-I-I-I-I-

"Did I hear you right?" Saalteinamariva asked. "You said that as soon as the new Emperor is chosen, you're as good as dead. And now you're saying you know your candidate?"

"That is true," General Roseduck confirmed. "Sooner or later someone will be chosen. I will try to stall as long as I can, but in the end I should try to push the candidate who is least likely to allow me killed."

"That sounds reasonable, I guess."

"Therefore my strategy is to pick someone with an attention span of a forgetful newt, brains of a lazy slug and manners of a drunk enraged baboon. Someone like that can be difficult to be influenced. Difficult to persuade to put me out of office."

"And there goes all your 'for the good of the Empire' and stuff," the sorceress mocked him.

"Not at all. It is for the good of the Empire. Because of the unfortunate successorless death of the late Emperor, as well as his rather distinct lack of siblings, there really isn't anyone who was trained for job. Even more unfortunately, I have to assume that none of the available choices would be any good. Therefore, by means of an educated guess, I also have to assume that the one that is least likely to accomplish anything is the best choice. As opposed to those who might try to do something and get it wrong."

"By, for example, getting rid of you?"

"Yes, that would most certainly be a bad idea. I won't indulge in false modesty. I am the most competent person to lead the army and everybody with half a brain knows it."

"So it's a good thing that brains are so common these days," Saalteinamariva replied. Roseduck just groaned. "Nevermind. Tell me, where did you find someone with an attention span of a forgetful newt, brains of a lazy slug and manners of a drunk enraged baboon and what do I have to do with this?"

"I found him in the Oxrabbit family, obviously."

"Obviously." In hindsight, it was obvious indeed. If someone needed a noble with some serious mental deficiencies, one of the Oxrabbits was a good bet.

"It's Mevrin Oxrabbit, the Baron's nephew. And I'm talking to you about this because you are going to deliver the news."

"Me? Why me? I'm no good with people! Especially dumb people! I'll put him on fire!" The General sighed. The conversation was going so well, but the sorceress just had to lose her temper. Not that he had expected anything else from her.

"Do you think I'm dumb too? I am well aware that you would put him on fire."

"Good."

"And talking to him wouldn't do any good. Brains of a lazy slug, remember?"

"Right. So, his parents? I remind you that nobles aren't too fond of me."

"Don't worry about that. His father died in a bear-hunting accident. And his mother doesn't want anything to do with him. Can't blame her really."

"Why do I have a feeling that it was a ridiculously stupid accident?"

"As I understand he tried to beat it in a fistfight."

"Wow. Must have been the stupidest Oxrabbit."

"Not really. Just not strong enough. As I understand, the Baron did that multiple times and yet he's still alive."

"A pity. Anyway, I still don't see why do you need me here."

"Well, I cannot really leave the capital now, can I? I need you to speak with Mevrin's nanny."

"About?"

"About preparing Mevrin for the role. Oxrabbits don't learn fast and he needs to memorise some stuff for his coronation."

"Oh. How about I threaten to roast him unless he learns fast?"

"You would roast him."

"Good."

"Not good. There is no other candidate who is that bad. I need him alive and uncooked."

"You're no fun anymore."

-I-I-I-I-

The Oracle lived in a circle of stones. Literally. There wasn't anything else around. No house, no shack, no cave. The group approached cautiously. At least Alexander and Gaduria approached cautiously. Heroes rarely approach anything cautiously, especially something as non-threatening as a circle of stones, therefore Arthaxiom approached it Heroically.

The circle wasn't big. It consisted of tall standing stones, around twenty to thirty feet tall. Inside there were smaller stones, randomly placed, of various shapes and sizes. In the middle of the circle there was a stone tripod, and an old lady was polishing it. "Did you come to see me?" she screeched as they approached.

"Yes, we did," the paladin replied.

"Are you sure?" the old lady screeched again.

"Yes, we are sure."

"Really, really sure?"

"Yes! Why else would we be here?" Gaduria got irritated a bit.

"Well, you could want to see the Oracle instead."

"So you are not the Oracle?"

"Oh no, sweetie, I just clean her circle of stones. I knew you came to her." She sighed. "Nobody ever comes to see me." She scampered away.

"So where is..."

"I am here." The Oracle emerged from behind one of the pillars. She seemed somehow removed from reality. She was white. Long white hair, long white dress, very pale, almost transparent face. When she walked, she barely touched the grass. More like floated just a bit above it. "I knew you would come, but I overslept. My apologies."

"Do you..." Alexander started to ask, but she interrupted him.

"Yes, I sleep behind the pillar."

"But..."

"But I would know if something were to attack me at night."

"And..."

"And the rain goes around me."

Alexander got a bit confused. "Are you..."

"Yes, I am."

"Is she what?" Gaduria asked.

"Answering my..."

"...questions before he finishes..."

"...asking them." This time Alexander interrupted.

"Sorry. It must be..."

"...rather inconvenient..."

"...to you, but for me time is..." She paused, looking at the dwarf. He stared back.

"What?"

"You were going to interrupt to 'give me taste of my own medicine', didn't you? So I paused."

"Yes, but... er... I didn't know how it would end."

"That explains it."

"It doesn't!" Gaduria complained. "I thought you see..."

"...the future? Yes. But I also read minds. I confuse them sometimes. I'll try to stop that for a bit."

"You read the future AND people's thoughts?" The princess couldn't wrap her head around this concept.

"Yes, I do. Part of the job. Nobody would visit an Oracle who doesn't know things and stuff."

"What's up with that 'things and stuff' thing?"

"It's all about being vague. Also part of the job."

"Why?"

"If I told you how everything is going to work out, it wouldn't be fun anymore, would it?"

"You can't tell because you don't know, or you know but you won't tell?" Gaduria challenged the Oracle, but she just smiled cryptically.

"Perhaps I can't tell. For sure I won't tell."

"Perhaps you can't tell?"

"Perhaps. Vague, remember?"

"It's not very nice."

"I'm not the Nice Oracle. She lives elsewhere. She tells people nice things."

"But what if nice things aren't going to happen to them?"

"Then she lies."

"It's not very nice of her."

"It is, for a while. Just not long-term."

"It's definitely not nice, it's misleading."

"If she named herself the Misleading Oracle, nobody would come to see her, you know."

"I am sorry to interrupt this fascinating discussion..." Arthaxiom started, but he got interrupted.

"I know, I know, you want to get to business. This idle conversation is annoying you quite a bit. That's why I'm doing it, you know."

"I think I'm beginning to like you," Gaduria said. "You're a... kindred spirit."

"Why thank you."

"By the way, could you tell me something about this ring?"

"Yes, the ring... It's a beauty, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is... but what can you tell about it?"

"It's gold, encrusted with rubies, and you took it off an old corpse."

"I know that!"

"I know that you know that. You asked what I can tell about it. It's all I can tell about it."

"Because you don't know anything more or because you don't want to tell more?"

"I'm not telling you that."

"Vague?"

"Vague. And mysterious."

"Excuse me..."

"Yes, yes, what an impatient paladin! So full of glory."

"How can anyone be full of glory?" Alexander asked.

"I'm referring to his mind. Nothing but glory. Glory this and Heroism that. I can almost hear the glorious trumpets in his mind. Whatever else was there, got lost in all the glory."

"I am embarrassed now," the paladin said.

"No need. It's natural. You're a Hero, you know."

"I know I am a Hero."

"You suspected. I know. Now I told you that, so you're officially a Hero."

"Hooray!" Alexander cheered.

"I'll better leave your head, you're so full of pride it hurts."

"Can we get to business now?"

"Yes, yes. Take this." The Oracle gave a small bottle to the paladin. "See that rock?" She pointed to a dwarf-sized, smooth rock. "Pour the liquid from this bottle onto the rock and rub it in."

Arthaxiom removed his gauntlets, knelt next to the rock and did as he was told.

"Good. Now lick it off the rock."

"Uhhh..." The paladin was somewhat uncertain about that.

"Do you want to have a vision or not?"

"Yes, but..."

"So lick it off!"

Arthaxiom grumbled something, reluctantly took off his helmet and proceeded to lick the rock.

"Couldn't he have just drank it from the bottle?" Gaduria inquired.

"Yes, I guess he could." The Oracle shrugged. "But that's how it is done around here."

"To teach him humility? To re-establish his connection with Mother Nature?" Alexander inquired.

"Could be both I guess. But primarily to amuse me. Look how hilarious he looks, licking that stone!"

"Fhwt?" the paladin asked.

"Shut up and continue licking!" the Oracle berated him.

"I think I like you again," Gaduria said.

"Of course you do. You approve of me being mean and evil. Unless it's directed at you."

"You know me too well."

"I read minds, remember? By the way, want a stone to lick?" Gaduria didn't respond, just made a face at the Oracle.

"I... I'm not feeling too well..." the paladin muttered. He tried to get up, but his legs failed him and he fell on the ground.

"What's happening to him?" Alexander shouted.

"He's going on a quest," the Oracle replied. "A vision quest."

"Is he going to be all right?"

"Probably."

-I-I-I-I-

Mevrin Oxrabbit was having dinner. In his case, having dinner consisted of eating food, throwing food, smashing food, running around the table, running on the table, and running with the table. And many other things, depending on his current mood and creativity level. Needless to say, Mevrin was eating alone.

"Mevrin! No tearing off table legs! You need this table! They don't grow on trees!"

"Yes, nanny," Mevrin replied, and instead started gnawing on his chair.

"So what were you saying, dearie?" the nanny asked. She was a big, strong woman. Only such nannies were employed by the family, because one had to be big and strong to handle even a small Oxrabbit. Male Oxrabbits were notorious for being big, strong and unruly. This particular nanny considered herself quite lucky. Mevrin wasn't all that athletic, especially in comparison to her previous charge, the current Baron.

"I was saying that some people think that Mevrin here... uh... could become the next... Emperor." Saalteinamariva almost whispered the last word. She couldn't really believe what she was saying. She knew the boy was troublesome, Roseduck implied that much, but she wasn't prepared for the extent of it. First of all, he wasn't really a boy, at least visually. More like a young man. Behaviour was definitely boyish. Or even mad-hungry-goatish. Even watching him from afar triggered her maternal instincts, which meant that she wanted to put him on fire and drop the ceiling on him. She decided not to watch anymore. Those instincts were bound to take over eventually.

"An Emperor! Mevrin! Yes, he would be a great Emperor!" The nanny was very enthusiastic about the idea. "He's bright and smart and..." A series of crashes interrupted her.

"What was that?" the sorceress asked.

"Oh, Mevrin just hates his vegetables. They are good for him, but he is quite passionate about not eating them. He smashed them with a chair." Saalteinamariva decided not to point out that he could simply leave them. Attacking them with furniture seemed a bit excessive, but it was a good opening to fulfil one of the tasks she was given.

"You know, if the High Lords see him behaving like that, he surely won't get chosen."

"Oh, I know, I know. He's just such a passionate boy, he often forgets his manners. But leave that to me, dearie, I will prepare him," the nanny said. "You better start behaving, young man! The chandelier is not a toy!"

"Yes it is!" Mevrin protested loudly.

"He's a bit headstrong, but don't worry, dearie. I know what to do."

Saalteinamariva watched the nanny hit Mevrin repeatedly on the head with a wooden spoon. She approved of the educational technique. Too bad the spoon wasn't on fire. It would make it even more effective. Still, even without the fire the nanny seemed to have her way. She was patient and methodical with her spoon. If anyone could teach this young oaf something, the nanny could. The sorceress was quite sure about that.

-I-I-I-I-

The scenery had changed. Arthaxiom was standing on a grassy meadow. Only the grass was orange. He looked around. All the colours were strange. The sky was yellow, the sun was pink. Suddenly, he noticed he wasn't wearing armour anymore. It made him uneasy. Instead, he was wearing his old peasant clothes. Sort of. His shirt was intense spring green and his trousers were very, very purple.

"I must be having a vision," he realised. It must had been a vision. Either that, or he was dead. And he couldn't have died, because Heroes don't die. Not before finishing their most important quests. He was pleased to notice that he didn't lose his logical thinking.

Now the most pressing problem was doing whatever he was supposed to do in this strange place. Not having the slightest idea what it was didn't help at all. But something had to pop up sooner or later, he was sure of that. Heroes don't get lost on their vision quests.

A toad popped up. A dark blue one. "Yo," it said.

"Uh. Hello, little frog," the paladin said.

"Who are you calling little? Am I little?" the toad got angry.

"You. And yes, you are."

"It's all relative, I'll let you know." The toad pouted.

"Do you know what I am supposed to do here?"

"Insult amphibians, apparently." The toad was resentful.

"Uhh... I... I apologise." He felt strangely, apologising to a frog, but it seemed the only reasonable thing to do.

"Very well. You are supposed to go to a lake."

"Where is it?"

"That way." The toad pulled out a sign out of nowhere and stuck it in the ground.

"Thank you."

"One more thing, before you go..." The paladin looked at the toad, which jumped at his leg and bit him. Very painfully. It had a jaw full of sharp teeth.

"Aaaaaagh!" he screamed. "Frogs do not have teeth!"

"They might, in this place. You should be happy I didn't breathe fire. So long, moron!" The frog jumped away and disappeared into the grass.

Arthaxiom looked at his leg. He fully expected to see a lot of blood, yet there was none. Instead, flowers grew from where the frog bit him. Pretty, yellow flowers. He shrugged. Very strange place. Well, nothing to do but to go and find this lake.

-I-I-I-I-

In a dark and gloomy chamber, on a dark and gloomy throne, a dark and gloomy person was sitting. Gloomily. Gloomy torches were gloomily burning on the walls, hardly giving any light at all. Whatever little they gave was gloomy too. A bit less dark and gloomy person was standing before the throne. It bowed awkwardly.

"You called me, oh Dark and Gloomy Lord?"

"Why do you always ask me this?" the Dark and Gloomy Lord asked with irritation. "You very well know that I did!"

"Apologies, oh Dark and Gloomy Lord." The person bowed again.

"Must you be so formal all the time?"

"Sorry, Tim."

"That in turn is too informal."

"You know I am no good with conversation, oh Dark and Gloomy Lord."

"Just lord will do."

"As you wish, oh Just Lord."

"I meant lord, without just. And drop the oh."

"Yes, Lord."

"Good." The Dark and Gloomy Lord was pleased with himself. "Who's a smart zombie?"

"You are, Lord?"

"No! I'm not a zombie, you idiot! You are! And apparently still not a smart one."

"Apologies, Lord."

"Accepted. Can't blame you for your brain rotting away I guess. But, to business. Now that the Emperor is dead, is the Empire in turmoil?"

"Uhhh..."

"Yes or no?"

"No, Lord"

"Why no?"

"Because not yes?"

"What I am asking is why isn't it in turmoil?"

"How would I know, Lord? I'm just a zombie. But it seems people don't really care about this kind of thing."

"People always were problematic. Well, never mind that. Was Rodolfo the Lion Tamer apprehended?"

"You didn't order me to apprehend..."

"Not you! Did the Imperial Guard apprehend him?"

"I don't think so, Lord."

"Why not? So many clues are pointing right at him!"

"I don't know, Lord."

The Dark and Gloomy Lord sighed gloomily. "Leave an anonymous mysterious note to one of the High Lords, will you?"

"As you wish, Lord"

"All right, what about the orcs?"

"The orcs were difficult to persuade, Lord, but I succeeded."

"Finally good news! So will they descend upon the Empire like locusts?"

"Yes, Lord, they will!"

"The entire five thousand?"

"Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh what?"

"Uh-oh did you want five thousand orcs, Lord?"

"Yes I did!"

"Uh-oh."

"Stop uh-ohing! What is wrong?"

"I thought you wanted fifty thousand, Lord."

"Uh-oh."

"Exactly, Lord."