General Hai

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Elliot 139
Photo credit: Sam Droege

Sounding like rocks grinding together, the hovering embers spoke. “Madam Duggla.”

The messenger lit a lantern.

A wasp. Duggla let out a grunt. Why should I worry about a wasp? But his boldness made her cautious. “I know who I am. Who are you?”

“A friend who is sorely disappointed by the Marauders’ failure to take the Kingdom of Bog for their General.”

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Stranger In the Dark

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Elliot 138
Image credit: TextureMax

Madam Duggla didn’t mind being led into the unknown. She didn’t mind sitting in the dark with the walls entombing her. She wasn’t even bothered by arrogant pests that forced their way through life by threatening creatures less cruel than themselves.

But when the unknown threat in the tomb-like hole smoldered in the dark, it caused her some alarm.

To be continued. . .

Previously, on Elliot’s Adventures ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Next time . . .

Toadstool Pigeon

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Elliot 137
Photo credit: Alolkoy

Smugly enjoying the stupidity of her former jailer, Duggla the Crone waited beneath the red toadstool. Time passed, the rain stopped, the sun came out, and still she waited. But now she muttered, too.

“Why should I sit here like a lackey? Nobody has the right to treat me this way. I should just leave.” But curiosity held her in place until a velvety voice called her name.

“Madam Duggla! Thanks for waiting. I apologize and I beg your pardon, but I was unavoidably detained.”

She pursed her lips and squinted at the red-tinged pointy end of his curvy tail. “Things come up,” she allowed. “Who are you?”

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The New Dungeon Master

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Elliot 136, Schneeengel on Deviantart
Image credit: Schneeengel on Deviantart

Madam Duggla yelled up the stairs, “What does a body have to do to get an extra blanket around here?” A late afternoon rain chilled her jail cell, aggravating her rheumatism and making her crankier than ever.

The lone guard descended the steps for the fifth time in an hour, not bothering to hide his own aggravation from the lone prisoner.

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Savoring the Bittersweet

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Elliot 135
Image credit: NatGeoWild / S.T. Ranscht
“Hey, what about King Arnie of Bog and his Knights of Service? They don’t write… they don’t call…” You, trying to remember what they were doing 50 episodes ago.

When we last saw the fine fighting forces of Bog, King Arnie was honoring Lady Connie, her family, and their neighbors for helping to win the final battle against the Marauders. Well, final for now. Together, Bog and Fen had repelled the enemy without conquering them, and no one was foolish enough to think the war was over.

So what have they been doing?

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Sliding On the Sky

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Elliot 134
Photo credit: halex

“Thank you,” Elliot’s pride battled with the enormity of what he’d just heard, and wisely surrendered to humility. “I will do my best — faithfully — to deserve this Name.”

First Combat Master Vladimir the Just bowed his head to Elliot the Faithful. “May your Name inspire all who meet you to trust that you will serve them well.”

The celebration of a new Naming was a raucous, thirsty affair. Elliot was certain every creature in attendance must have congratulated him in person — some many times — with a toast for success and a shot of aged nectar.

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The Naming

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Elliot 133
Photo credit: Marc Steurbaut

Without a wave or a formal good-bye, the Granters hopped from their mushrooms and retreated to a dim green corner, excited hissing whispers trailing behind them. Placing a hand on Elliot’s shell, Master Vladimir urged him toward a passageway in the opposite direction.

“This isn’t the way we came in,” Elliot observed.

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A Downward Spiral

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Elliot 131
Photo credit: Irish UE

All eyes followed them as First Combat Master Vladimir the Just escorted Elliot the length of the dining hall to a square door recessed into the wall facing the High Priestess’ table. Only half the height of any other door in the Tower, its lock fought valiantly against the key Master Vlad inserted, in a vain attempt to keep the secret it guarded.

Its heavy planks dragged open on hinges rusty from neglect and disuse, the door’s screeching protest pierced all ears and overpowered all pained gasps as the Master revealed a dark opening at the top of a stairway to blackness.

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First Combat Master Vladimir the Just

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Elliot 130
Photo credit: Carlos del Pico

In the second deepest chamber beneath the Tower of Honor, an expansive room carved out of porous white stone, the residents gathered to confer, converse, and dine. Organic lighting spread cheer with its impression of sunny windows.

As the High Priestess entered, everyone — hundreds, Elliot estimated — stood. Acknowledging them with a nod, she led him to a laden table on the raised dais at one end of the hall, then turned to the waiting diners.

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Portrait of First Combat Master

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Elliot 129
Photo credit: Keresztelo

Wasp nests, honeycombs, mantis egg masses — symmetry wasn’t new to Elliot. But the alien nature of this arched room overwhelmed his ability to imagine its creator.

“Speechless?” the High Priestess asked.

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