Hour Of Darkness
Ringo's Chapter, Help!
Ringo stood, leaving his spellbook in the grass. He mumbled quietly to himself, running over the spell castings in his head, working hard to memorize them and cut out his dependency on the book. He left the book about fifty feet away, then cracked his knuckles loudly. It was now about noon, the sun beating down unmercifully, but a light, cool breeze made the day bearable.
Ringo ran over the spells he had recently memorized, his thoughts settling on the simplest one he could think of. He knelt down, humming softly, clearing away a small bit of grass. He put his hands down to the ground, palms up, as if he were holding a bowl. He whispered words in a foreign language, twitching his fingers gently until he felt solid wood against them. He opened one eye, afraid of what he might find, but he smiled as he saw the wooden bowl in his hands. It worked!
Now he placed his hands inside the smooth, oak-type bowl, fingers tickling the deep brown interior as he mumbled even more mystic chants. He felt water trickling over his fingers, and he opened his eyes to see the bowl filled with water.
Now! He thought, feeling rather confident. My masterpeice...
Ringo again attempted the spell he had tried to accomplish when they had first arrived. He closed his eyes, waving his hands over the water, mumbling, "John Lennon...John Lennon...John Lennon..." After a few miutes, he found a perfectly smooth pebble, turning it over in his hands, then, with a wish and a prayer, dropped into the water with a soft plunk.
The water rippled gently, as if unsure of its task. Then, it cleared, and colors not normal to water began to appear. Ringo saw a smear of black...some blue...white...aha! The black was his stallion, the blue his jeans, the white his shirt...John was galloping through the field still, not yet having reached the city, amazingly enough. It must be a lot farther than they had expected. John was probably having a nice chat with his new friend, though. Ringo waved his hand over the water, and it rippled, then cleared, showing only the bottom of the dark brown bowl.
Ringo sat for a moment, wondering if he ought to check on Paul and George, tossing the pebble absently from hand to hand, then decided they were probably doing fine. His face grew solemn as he remembered the task at hand. He closed his eyes, waving his hands over the water again, after extracting the pebble.
"Raenth...Raenth...Raenth..." He opened his eyes, depositing the pebble into the bowl again, the water rippling, then showing the statue they sought. It stood in a dark room, giving no help at all in determining its location. Ringo sighed, then decided to try something else. He smoothed the water and image, extracted the stone, and once again began waving his hands over the water.
"The Dark One...The Dark One...The Dark One..." The stone was dropped, but nothing happened. It settled to the bottom of the bowl, but no image appeared. He tried again, but achieved the same results; nothing. He retraced his steps to find the spellbook, looking for the proper page for the spell he was attempting. When he found it, he sighed in exasperation. He realized that once again he had neglected the fine print, which turned out to be very important.
Note: Should the requested person or object not appear, either you did not do the spell properly, you did not use proper names, or the person you seek is protecting him/herself from being seen using the invisibility spell [pg. 47]
Ringo figured it was one of the last two. Either the name he was using - "The Dark One" - was not descriptive enough, or this person had mage powers to block his veiw. He hoped it was the former. Ringo absently flipped to the page holing the invisibility spell, reading it (especially the fine print) a few times in order to remember it properly, then tested it. He found his hands were no longer in front of him, his large nose didn't obstruct his feild of vision. He summoned a mirror before him, and saw nothing. He giggled childishly with delight, then sprinkled the green mist over himself. The green mist, he found, disenchanted all spells. Some required more power than others, he also found. He had needed to create ashpere of twice the normal size to be rid of the bowl of water; he supposed because these were more tangible than the oher spells he had attempted. He returned to the mirror, looking himself over. He brushed stray blades of grass from his jeans, then smoothed out his white t-shirt. He fixed his hair, the disenchanted the mirror.
Okay. He thought, cracking his knuckles again, strangely feeling better now that he had adjusted his appearance. Here goes everything...
He pulled a ring from the many on his fingers. He looked at it fondly, remembering his twenty fifth birthday on which he had recieved it from Paul. He laughed softly to himself, remembering the practical jokes Paul had put him through to get it. Then he returned to the task at hand.
He closed his eyes, joinging his hands together for lack of anyone else in the vicinity, chanting the strange words, feeling slightly silly. He composed himself, thinking hard about the creature which he so desired. After he had finished with the secret syllables, he looked up to the sun, then with a grunt, threw the ring as high as he possibly could (which was pretty high, even for Ringo). Perhaps this wasn't the brightest maneuver.
Beneath the now-tiny ring formed a massive cloud of blue stardust, unsettling Ringo a tad. SHoulden't it be red? Hadn't John's been the same color as his magic? Paul is the one with the blue magic. Ringo's reverie was interrupted by an earth-shattering roar. The tiny (in comparison) Beatle looked up, craning his neck and sheilding his eyes from the midday sun. He was looking right into the massive blue eye of one unfriendly looking dragon. It's massive shoulders were about fifty feet high, the eye itself about ten feet in diameter, ringed with azure scales that rippled with the tight muscles underneath. Its sinuous wings unfolded, eclipsing the sun with an incredible wingspan of over a hundred feet, Ringo estimated. It raised its huge scaled head to the sun, bellowing loudly once again, closing its eyes with the effort. Ringo covered his ears, then braced himself as the dragon beat its leathery wings, the tall grass of the field practically flattened in the windstorm. The dragon launched itself into the air, obviously not listening to Ringo. The Beatle sighed, realizing his blunder. Paul had given him the ring, so the dragon was loyal to Paul. Ringo wondered for a minute about the loyalty of John's horse, then kicked himself. John's ring had been received in a fan letter, but the fan wasn't here, so the horse belonged to the ring's current owner. However, since Paul was here, this dragon was running amok, searching and bellowing for its owner. Ringo cursed as he paged through his book wildly for the Creature Summons page, wondering how he could get rid of the dragon when it had already departed. He didn't like what he read.
WARNING! Once the creature has been summoned, ordinary disenchants will not be effective! The only way to be rid of the unwanted creature is to firmly grasp the ring in its forehead and pull it from the animal's skin. Ringo grimaced. With a dragon like that, no one but its owner could execute such a plan. Knowing Paul, he wouldn't want to kill the dragon, anyway. This was bad. Very bad. Ringo squinted into the sky as the dragon gyred higher and higher on its massive wings. Ringo did have to admit; it was a beautiful sight. It would have been more beautiful had the dragon been his, but until then, he could only sprint towards the forest, praying that he could find Paul before the dragon did. Otherwise, Paul would not be a happy camper...
Ringo raced as fast as he could, the forest a few hundred feet off. he constantly checked on the dragon's progress, noting which direction it turned in when, attempting to predict the creature's movements. He returned his eyes to the forest streatching ahead, leaning forward and attempting to go even faster. Once again he checked on the dragon, and his stomach lurched. He slowed to a stop, scanning the sky frantically. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. The dragon was gone. Ringo whirled around on his heel, staring out as far as his blue eyes could see. He noticed a speck on the horizon. It was growing larger at an incredible rate. Realization dawned on the helpless drumer, and he sprinted in the opposite direction as the dragon bore down on him, screeching with anger evident in its huge blue eyes. Ringo flattened to the ground just as the dragon swooped over, the combination of the wind and the fall knocking all the breath from his body. The dragon flew high into the sky, bellowing its annoyance. Ringo stood up shakily and continued his trek. Two hundred feet... Ringo stumbled, catching himself and getting up quickly. One hundred feet... Ringo ran faster and faster, the dragon roaring behind him. Fifty feet... Ringo could feel the dragon's searing breath on the back of his neck, urging him to run even faster. Twenty five feet... Ringo realized he wasn't going to make it. His tears sprung to his eyes at the heat, his dark hair singed and burning. He stopped cold, dropping to the ground again as the dragon flew overhead, talons scraping the back of his white shirt. Deep crimson lines appeared as Ringo struggled to his feet again, the dragon gaining height, bellowing deafeningly at yet another near miss of its prey. Ringo stumbled into the trees, resting against the nearest, trying to catch his breath. His spellbook fell to the ground as he leaned his back against the tree. He winced, remembering the recent cuts, and craned his neck over his shoulder to see how bad and how deep they were. It didn't look good, but it didn't look all that bad, either. He summoned another bowl of water and a few strips of cloth, washing and dressing his wounds. This took him close to half an hour, the wounds being in such an inconvenient place. The entire time he was doing this, the dragon was circling overhead, screeching incessantly, looking for its prey. Ringo sat against the tree, regaining his senses and his breath, his wounds stinging, but healing. He thought for a few minutes, trying to figure out what he ought to do next. Obviously he couldn't go back into the field; the dragon would eat him alive! It seemed the only option was to walk deeper into the dark woods, which he intended to do, to search for Paul. With a heavy sigh and a hiss at his wounds, Ringo hauled himself to his feet and set off into the woods.
On to Chapter Five!
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