Typo Alley~N Part Two

The sun is shining brightly above us, but all our faces are grim. RP and Aiey are back from their exploration of the island, Westhaven, and they don't have good news. They saw same craters that were visible Wold and I found on the previous trip.

"What created the craters?" Borin asks.

"Not what," Aiey replies. "Who. We found Chaise." I gasp. If those craters are the size of Chaises feet, he must be . . . huge.

"If he's really that big, why can't we see him?" Cros asks.

"Well, he's asleep as far as we could tell. He's also not quite as big as he seems. The island is decent sized."

"Fair enough," Cros replies. Did he just give a two word reply? It wasn't even a sentence.

"But that isn't that bad news." RP butts in. "We knew he was controlled be a magician or something, but we didn't know he had a whole army."

RP creates a miniature illusion of the island sitting on the Vessel's bulwark. The island spins around to reveal half of the opposite side the island covered by row upon row of tents. The other half is occupied by a mixture of trees and a sleeping teal dragon.

"How many soldiers would you say there are?" Wold asks.

"Well, if there are three to a tent, up to ten thousand," Aiey replies. "There's no way of getting an accurate count."

"So basically, we have to fight off and army of several thousand men, kill a dragon, and deal with a magician who is as powerful or possibly even more powerful than Cros?" I ask.

"Think on the positive side." Cros says. "We do have RP. The combination of us should be enough to at least survive. And there have been Typos who had to solve problems worse than this. One Typo had to stop a hurricane from wiping out a city in Gothriande by evaporating it with fire out of his hands. It cost him his sanity. The power of using that much magic turned him into an evil man, and he assassinated the king of Arsham. Ever since then, Arsham has been a non-entity."

"Don't forget the time when an army of centipedes under the control of Hasden, the greatest Typo to ever live defeated and banished the Dark Elves," Borin adds.

"An army of what?" I yell.

"Never mind," Aiey says. "We should focus on making a plan. Any ideas?"

We all sit down on the beach begin brainstorming. For a while, we are all deep in thought and no one says anything. I rack my brain for any brilliant ideas, but none are forthcoming. The birds and monkeys provide background noise. They're actually quite distracting, especially the monkeys.

"I didn't know your kind sat around and performed tribal rituals all day," a strange squeaky voice says from behind me. I scramble to my feat frantically. Where did he come from?

"I think . . . he just teleported," RP stutters.

"Who are you?" Cros asks.

"Did you really think I wouldn't realize you had arrived?" the man replies, ignoring Cros. "My sentries are better than you think. I heard tidings that you were approaching yesterday morning. You better have a good plan because you're not going anywhere from now on."

The man dressed in a cape and round glasses shoots a flame from his hand and engulfs the Vessel in flames within a matter of seconds. I stand there, gaping in shock. What just happened? The world suddenly starts to seem like a very, very bad place to be.

"Have a good day," the man said. He disappeared in the same fashion in which he appeared, but this time with a flash.

"What was that all about?" RP asks. "That guy was just creepy. I mean did you see what he was wearing. He looked like a mad scientist who intentionally 'messed up' and blew up a school full of children."

"I think I know who he was," Cros says. "It's Frans Selber, the Typo who assassinated the king of Arsham. It all makes sense. He came here to find Chaise. With an ordinary army he wouldn't be able to take down a kingdom like Gothriande, but with a dragon he can instill terror and have a good chance of overthrowing the king. But how is he still alive a hundred years later?"

"What if he stole some of Chaise's life?" I ask. "Dragon's live long enough."

"No. He must be an elf," Aiey says. "He wears the mask of a human. He's a magician he can do whatever he wants. It makes sense."

"It's possible," Borin reflects. "But at the moment I think we should be more concerned with how to kill him."

"You're right," I say. All eyes are on me, and for a moment I wish I could shrink and be very tiny, but the moment passes quickly.

"I'm afraid so," Cros says reluctantly. He pauses and puts his hand on his chin. "The only way I see to get to Selber is for me to challenge him head on. I will be fighting for a noble cause."

"Remember the last time you pushed yourself too far and let the magic take control of you," Aiey cautions.

"I was young and brash, then," Cros snaps. "I won't let myself become power hungry again."

"Then I'll say no more."

"Do you think that perhaps my illusions could be of use, here?" RP asks.

"Perhaps," Cros says, strangely reticent. "I would rather fight alone, though, if I can. I think you might be more useful helping the others. If I focus on Selber, it will free up the rest of you to deal with Selber's army."

"You mean you actually intend us to fight them?" I exclaim.

"Yes. But not directly. Things like causing an avalanche or setting fire to the camp."

"Oh, that will be a piece of cake," Wold says sarcastically.

"Cros can't do all the work, now, can he?" Aiey asks.

"Yeah," I agree. "But setting fire to the camp?"

"It's simpler than in sounds," RP replies. "I can maintain illusions within a mile or two, so I can make you all disappear as mere shadows to get you past the sentries. From then on, it's simply a matter of setting a few tents on fire in a few strategic locations."

"See?" Cros says. "I'm the one who has to do the had work, here."

"Aren't we forgetting something," Borin asks. Are we?

"Chaise," Wold says. "We haven't made any plans to deal with him. And he is the main reason we're here."

"Precisely," Borin replies. "Let's just say that if Chaise wakes up from his little nap, things aren't going to over very well with us, especially if all of us are already tied up fighting or sneaking around. And that's assuming that nothing goes wrong along the way, which is a very big assumption.

"Cros has the best chance of dealing with Chaise, but I think he will have plenty of trouble with whatshisface Sebler."

"What if I could be waiting for him with my bow and snipe him in the eye."

"Racen," Borin lectures. "Even if you can actually hit Chaise in the eye without him dodging you, or your arrow falling before it reaches him, there's almost no chance of the arrow actually hurting him, because his eyelids are basically as strong as chain-mail.

"The question still remains, what are we going to do if he comes at us."

"Can't we just hide from him or something?" Wold asks.

"That's not exactly an option," Borin says, "when there are a couple thousand people on that half of the island, that a dragon who can spot you from the air, and there's a magician who can teleport anywhere he wants to on the island. We need to focus on a way to eliminate Chaise."

"That's nice," Cros says. "Maybe we could just ask him to throw himself into the ocean."

"Let's try to keep things on an adult level," Aiey scolds.

"Okay," Wold says. "Do you think it would work if RP made an illusion of a false dragon to scare Chaise off?"

"No," RP says. "I don't have the skill to create a solid illusion that big. It's . . . confusing. I can only create the illusion of things like a dragon being burned by another dragon, but none of that is permanent.

"I'm beginning to think that we're being overambitious here," I reply "Is what we're trying to do even possible?"

"Probably not," Chaise replies.

I dodge out of the way, barely avoiding a jet of flame. This wasn't planned. Sand flies everywhere as Chaise stomps around. I rub the sand out of my eyes and scramble to my feet, slinging my bow off my shoulder and nocking an arrow. I aim my bow and let the arrow fly. Chaise breathes out fire, quickly burning up the arrow, and moves on without a second thought.

I crouch behind a clump of bushes and hope Chaise doesn't decide to blow me up. In the confusion I lost sight of the others, and I can't spot any of them, which is probably a good thing. But with each passing moment, Chaise comes crashing closer and closer.

"Stand back, Chaise," Cros commands. His voice seems to boom from every direction, echoing constantly. Chaise chuckles.

"You really think your pithy air manipulation is going to scare me?

"Breathing is important, is it not?" Cros asks.

Chaise doesn't reply, but there's a flicker of some emotion in his eyes. Is that fear? Cros suddenly appears about thirty paces in front of Chaise who steps back. RP must have cloaked Cros.

"I'm warning you, Chaise," Cros says. "If you don't stop working for Sebler, I will personally make it my goal to destroy you. And it won't be pretty."

"You are the one who will regret your decision. My master will utterly crush you," he sneers. "Goodbye..

Chaise shoots flame out of his mouth and nostrils, but Cros holds up a wall of air which holds the fire back until Chaise takes to the sky, heading back to his lair.

"That was a close call," Aiey said.

"Not really," Cros says. "It actually went quite well. It's good to know my old age hasn't negated my ability to access magic."

"Yes, but how far can you push them?" Aiey asks.

"I'm not sure. Far enough," Cros replies cryptically.

"How are you supposed to deal with Selber and Chaise at the same time?"

"I'm not sure, but I think it will be easier than I expected it would, though dealing with one of them will still be a challenge."

"The thing that I find intriguing is that both of them have basically the same abilities but one is derived from magic, and the other occurs naturally. The only difference is their method of movement."

"I noticed that myself," Cros says. "That could very well work to my advantage. If I can defeat one of them, I can almost certainly defeat the other one."

"I think right now dealing with the army up on the hill might be a higher priority."