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Hi all, below is the first part of a fan fic we want YOU to write. This is a fan fic where you write ALL of it. We wanted a fan fic where people would contribute more, so here it is. By you and for you. Sarah wrote the first part to get it started. Does anybody see a tie in to the Wedding Story? hint, hint... Well after you read this you might. So, send me some additions! We want to get this off it's feet and running!  "Are you sure you have to leave?" Arram's mother asked nervously looking up at her tall son. "If I don't Emperor Orzone will do everything in his power to have me killed. Ever since his father died he's gone power crazy ," Arram told his parents. His father looked at him nervously, "I told you nothing good would come out of this mage nonsense. We should have never let you go." "You're being ridiculous," Arram's grandmother told his father. "Your son turns out to be a magical and theoretical genius, and all you can still do is complain! So," she added turning to Aramm "When do you leave?" "I'm not sure," he answered her. He really wasn't sure. He couldn't withstand that sort of information from his family, but he wasn't sure if it was safe to tell them, even with his gift, hopefully, blocking spying spells. He was a black , that was true, but he wasn't sure of his skills yet. He was so young... His grandmother must have sensed his feelings because she ushered his parents out of the room and sat him down. "You need to leave, we understand that much," she told him. "Your safety is the most important thing. But, you do need to give me at least some sort of idea of what might happen and why this is happening." Arram sighed, "Orzone's jealous. Plain and simple He may act like he doesn't believe in wild magic, but I've heard him talk. He does. And he wants credit for it when other people start to believe too. "I see. So what are you planning?" "I'll go to Tortall. Use my slight of hand tricks for more than a hobby. Live on the streets until it's safe, I guess." He laughed, "Well, at least now I can change my name from Arram Draper. How does Numair Salmalin sound?" His grandmother laughed too. "Promise me you'll never lose your sense of humor. What about Varice?" "I don't love Varice. I like her a lot, but I don't love her." "You're a wise boy. That's why I'm going to give you this." she took out a small ring and gave it to him. "It's my wedding ring. In the mean time keep it to remember me by, and if you do find one you love, give this to her. I wish you luck in whatever may come." At this, the old woman kissed her grandson and left the room.
~ Sarah
He stood there for a minute, glacing at the ring. A vision filled his mind. Numair heard someone call his name and for a brief moment he saw a girl in breaches, tunic and shirt. He stared, trying to get a look at her face, but the vision faded. Reaching for his magic, Numair tried to bring back the vision,but all the mage got was a dull glow. "Damn!!" Numair exclaimed, wishing he had more time to work with. Lindhall, his former teacher and friend, would have been able to tell him more about it, the mage thought bitterly. The barn doors flew open and Numair urged his horse into a gallop, eager to get away from Carthak and Orzone. He felt every bump in the road."Why could I never learn to ride properly?" Numair grumbled miserably to himself. How long he rode, he didn't remember until Numair reached the northern-most regions of Carthak. His horse was nearing the end of its endurance, forced him to stop a little way off, in the cover of trees. The mage dismounted awkardly and sat, wondering how he was going to get on a boat. Then he remembered something his friend, Tristan, had said. Grinning, he said to himself "merchants!!". They would need some employees, if not he could bribe them. The most wanted man in all Carthak he may be, but people from other places wouldn't know that.
Hmm, but how to get a job. Growing up in a rich family, Numair didn't have to work much his whole life. 'I know, I can go to Tortall.' he thought. Everyone knew how rich Tortall was. There was destined to be merchants who needed helpers. With that in mind, Numair used some of the last of the money he had, and bought a ticket to Tortall. 'Somebody still might recognize me,' he thought. With that in mind, Numair took his long ponytail in his hand, and cut. When he was done, his hair fell a little past his ears. 'No one will recognize me now.' It was well known that Numair had a thing with his hair. Heck I used to spend hours getting my hair straight. 'Won't have to do that anymore.' I was surprisingly even for a self job. 'I guess trimming off all of my few dead ends, gave me a knack for haircutting. Maybe I could cut hair in Tortall. With that in mind, the new Numair boarded a boat going straight to Tortall. He drew his hood over his face, tightly just in case someone he knew was there. He had disguised himself anyway, his own mother didn't recognize him. He had passed her in the market. He was getting a bit seasick when a man came over. "Hello, what's yer name?" he asked. "Numair, Numair Salmalin. I'm going to Tortall to be a juggler." "Yer gonna need lots o' skills ta be in the tricks department. There are so many rogues out there that we even gots a king!" Numair almost corrected that man's speaking, but stopped himself in time. "What is your name?" Numair inquired. "It's George, lad. I'm the king of Thieves and I know your sharper than you let people know. Your eyes followed everything I said, although you might deny it. You have a very strong gift. People who have strong gifts need to use them. You know you have the gift because I can see you have mastered it. You go ahead and use your gift a lot to help others. Anyway, don't try to make a name for yourself by trying to kill me. Too many people doing THAT already." "I wouldn't think about it. I am not becoming a rouge. I just want to earn money, not steal it from hard working innocent people." "You're a good lad. You can stay at my inn, if you want, when we reach Tortall. I can't give you work, but free board is all I can manage." "Thank you very much. You have no idea how much I appreciate this," Numair replied gratefully. "Lad, just to let you know, you can trust me with your secret, although you look like a man who speaks few words." "I'd rather not say, thank you. If you know anyone, please don't tell them about me. I'm a person who keep's to himself. I won't bother you if you won't bother me. I'm sorry I'm being so curt, but I want to keep a low profile." "So, we have a fugitive on our hands," George said with a throaty laugh. "Not quite a fugitive just yet," Numair flung back, grinning. "I'll see you in Corus, Tortall's capital. I have a feeling our paths will meet again. "If you try to find me, ask my wife. She's the king's champion. Ever heard of Alanna?" Numair gaped at his new friend. "Of Pirate's Swoop? Of course. The world is still talking about her." "Well, she'll tell you where I am. After we stop at Corus, I'll take you to the inn. After that, I have a rebellion to deal with." His eyes glittered ferociously. "These rebels will wish they were never born. Anyway, I'll see you in the morning!" His attitude had gone from treacherous to bright in two seconds flat. "I wonder if there are more strange people like him in Corus," Numair
mumbled to himself.
This next bit is by none other than Holly "Wake up, Lad." Numair opened one eye. "What?" he mumbled,still half asleep. "We be docking in Corus in a half hour an' I don't remember how many times ye told me ye wanted t'keep a low profile" George stood over Numair, grinning. Numair groaned. For two, or was it three weeks? He had earned his keep onboard by 'swabbing the deck' and other chores George found for him. George had not been very hard on him but he could see Numair was someone brought up well, maybe even a noble. He didn't know port from starrboard. "Well, this be where I get off" George informed him. "Though I may hold a tittle, not every rogue be respectin' it." "Now, if you still want a place to stay, ask around for an inn- the inn of th' dancin' dove, and give this to the bar tender this...." He held up a piece of paper, tied with string. "Now,I must go, but I hope t' see you in the future an' may the goddess be with you." Numair had heard the expression before, it was what alot of Tortallins said. I must find out more about this 'goddess', he thought to himself. Numair dressed quickly and grabbed his few belongings.He had heard a few people talking, the word that a gangerous fugituve had escaped Orzone's grasp in Cathak- Him! They would probably be checking the boats and docks. He scanned the boat
with his gift for something to hide in.
"Ah-ha!"
Our next tantilizing tidbit is by Orca Trying to be as inconspicous as possible, Numair sidled over to the large crate standing at the edge of the deck. A few of the crewmembers eyed him suspiciously but they were used to this strange, secretive man doing weird things. Numair checked over it, trying to act as if he was inspecting it for damage. When he was sure no one was looking, he felt for the latch. With a creak, the front swung open. 'Odd,' he thought, ' Most crates are opened up at the lids.' The mage brushed it off as some mistake, and swung his precious belongings inside. He glanced over towards the docks and noticed a well dressed group of men approach the captain of the ship. Numair recongnized Carthak's coat of arms on one man's shirt, and quickly shut himself inside, using his gift to put the latch firmly back in place. He turned and sat down, to come face to face with two large, gold eyes staring straight back at him. "Uh oh." The grizzled captain eyed the men with distaste. He couldn't fend them off from the ship but he wanted to delay it as much as possible. Men like these were known to make a mess of things. The officer stood there, his face calm and cool, his insides tensing up with every second. His majesty would not let him off easily if he did not search the ship. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the captain nodded. The officer signaled to his guards and they marched up onto the highly polished deck ( which, might I add, is what Numair had spent half his time working on). They rummaged around in crates and boxes and throughly searched below deck. All that was left was the solitary crate ( which Numair was hiding in) at the end of the ship. The guards were about ready to open it up, but the captain stopped them. "This be one crate ye not be messin' with." He warned. "Why is that?" The officer demanded. "It contains one of the finest jaguars the likes of ye 'ave never seen. The emperor 'imself is sendin' it over for the King's new menagerie. Temperamental beast, bin roaring and hissin' fer the last coupla days. Bin keepin' 'im down below but we be cleanin' it out so that's why he's up here. Nearly broke through 'is first crate. I can tell ye his teeth are as sharp as daggers" The captain explained and watched in satisfaction as the guards yanked their hands away from the box and drew their swords. The officer glared at the captain. "Very well, We will take our leave. Good day." With that, the royal company left. The captain sniggered and patted the crate. "Ye've become very useful on board. The king will be lucky to have ye." The captain sighed and walked away to yell at a crew member for the heck of it. Numair had heard the whole conversation and he now wished he hadn't.
The jaguar stared placidly at him, spotted tail twitching.
What was he going to do?
The next suspense inciting *duh duh duuuuh* bit is by Julie
The large cat eyed the terrified mage calmly, moving towards him slowly with a grace only known to felines. Numair backed away as far as he could, praying to every god he knew for help. He couldn't very well blast the jaguar into infinity, not in such an enclosed area, and he doubted that he could turn it into anything else. "A black robe mage, at the mercy of an overgrown housecat," he muttered bitterly, cursing himself for knowing almost no practical magic whatsoever. Despite his rank, the magic that he did know wasn't worth much in the real world. The jaguar's unblinking golden eyes never left Numair's face, as it licked its chops in an ominous, slow movement. That wild magic I've been reading about would definately come in handy now, he thought. Suddenly, Numair had a flash of inspiration. "I can put the jaguar to sleep!" he realized, his face lighting up. It was simple, really, since sleep is something the body does naturally. However, it was time consuming, and without the proper preparations, there was always the chance that it wouldn't work...But on the other hand, that jaguar didn't look very friendly. Shoving all doubt aside, the mage began his spell. Black fire glittering with silver lights, his Gift, settled onto the jaguar like fog. The cat blinked, and yawned widely, showing off long, sharp teeth. "Please, Mithros, King of the Gods, make this work," he prayed, heart racing. "Graveyard Goddess, patroness of Carthak, grant this wish." Subconciously, he reached inside his pocket, and touched his grandmother's ring. The vision returned once more, filling his mind with an image of a forest. The trees around him looked impossibly sharp, as if he had eagle eyes. The image was also spinning. Something moved in front of him, and a hand reached out to him. He looked up with eyes that refused to focus, into a girl's face. He squinted, trying to get a better look at her. The image disappeared, vanishing as suddenly as it had come. The mage blinked a few times, then looked at the jaguar. It was sleeping peacefully. "Mithros, Mynoss, and Shakith," he whispered. Carefully, Numair got out of the crate, to an empty deck. He sighed with relief, and got off the ship. Still trembling over his ordeal, he didn't notice the man in front of him. "Ouch!" the stranger cried, as Numair bumped head-on into him. "Watch where yer goin'! What are ye, drunk?" "I'm sorry!" Numair said, and looked down his 6'5 height at the man. "George?" George grinned. "The very same. So you got off the ship after all," he drawled. "I was wonderin' if you'd gotten eaten by something." Thinking back to his near escape, the mage shuddered. "Don't even joke about that," he told his friend.
"why?" asked George. " Have a rough time?" Numair explained to George his near miss on the boat. George found this hilarious and slapped Numair on the back. " Never mind, you're alive and well...besides, you're a mage! What could possibly happen to you? But, if you like, i can teach you some sleight of hand tricks that i know... They can help you get out of many scrapes. After all, I wouldn't be the King of Thieves if i didn't learn any. But let us get something to drink from the Dancin' Dove and i'll find you a room." I can't be too long though. I have to get back to my wife. She's due to have another baby in a week or so and i wouldn't want to miss it for the world! George strode off, leaving Numair bewildered. Numair hurried to catch up to George. 10 minutes later they stopped outside an old tavern with the sign The Dancing Dove hanging over the roof. Numair's eyes hurt terribly from staring at all the wonders in Corus. It wasn't as fine as Carthak but it sure was different. But the issue was that he had to find some work, and fast. He was running out of money. And he couldn't send home for some more!!! What if Ozorne caught him again? He shuddered at the thought of going back to Carthak. " George, is there anywhere that i can find some work? I can juggle. I learnt at Carthak. Or i could always apply at the palace for something?" George turned around and eyed Numair. "Well i can always help you apply for something at the Palace. Not many know this... But i am a spy for the King," he said slowly. "I don't believe there is a position vacant though in the palace just yet. But we can always try in the markets for you. "That would be wonderful!" Numair sighed gratefully. He was off to a new start.   |
