The Scholar Emerges

Deep under the city of Erudin, a secret laboratory was alive with humming magic lanterns. In the humid and musty rooms, books were piled from marble floor to stone ceiling in nearly every corner as each of the many bookshelves was chockfull of tomes, papers, and scrolls. Several desks were placed haphazardly in the main study, completely buried in all manner of things. Over one desk, a drop of condensation fell on an open manuscript and splattered across its open pages.

"What in the . . .," a grumbling voice uttered as he looked up at the ceiling. With a quick incantation, the wizard set the ceiling ablaze for a moment, drying it completely.

Al`Kabor had spent hundreds of years in this laboratory and always kept it hidden as he was the only one that knew how to teleport to it -- well, almost the only one. It didn't take him long to fill eight shoddy rooms with shelves and books. The adjoining passages that were part of this forgotten underground of Erudin were also piled with tomes and trinkets of magic. He was simply out of room and it was woefully untidy.

"The greatest wizard in all of Norrath and beyond and I'm living in a sty," Al`Kabor sighed.

"First of all, 'greatest wizard' is up for some debate, and this is your mess," a voice said from behind him.

"Foul little halfling. I told you never to use that bloody teleport potion unless it was an emergency -- an emergency consisting of delivering me new materials or information. I don't have time for your constant chatter and rather uncomely feet. How do you live with yourself?" Al`Kabor said, irritated by uninvited company, but somewhat relieved to see a friendly face. It had been a while since he had seen anyone from the rabble of Firiona Vie's friends. Dreezil was one he could not easily forget.

"You're a grumpy ole so-and-so, you are. At least some things never change, eh? You definitely look older and gained a heap around the middle!" Dreezil Pocketdip said, poking the wizard's belly with the hilt of his dagger.

"Get off me, you toe-rotting stump," Al`Kabor growled as he tried swatting away the rogue's taunts, but Dreezil kept dodging him. "Oh for pity's sake, stop. What on earth has brought you here to make my laboratory stink like the dregs of a sewer?"

"Right, down to business. I'm afraid my news isn't good Al. Firiona is missing. Being the greatest wizard on Norrath, I would have thought you'd heard," Dreezil taunted.

"First, halfling runt, don't EVER call me 'Al,' and second, how could that silly high elf find herself in trouble yet again. Is she doing this for her own amusement? She certainly may have the touch of the divine, but in my estimation, she's a bit thick in the . . . ," Al`Kabor then pointed to his head and tapped his temple with a long, bony finger.

"Oh, shut up, old bellyacher. For all yer whinin' and gripin' I know you care about her. Now hurry. Galeth sent me to get you and that's just what I'm goin' to do. That and there will be something to gain out of all of this for you, so pack your things and let's go," Dreezil's last words rushed out so he could sneeze. "Look at this dust! You're living like a gnoll. About as good-lookin' too."

"Galeth, hm? But I would really prefer to just stay here and continue my studies. As you so kindly pointed out, I'm not getting any younger and I have plans and things I need to accomplish before time is wrested from me altogether," Al`Kabor said, guiltless.

"Fine, you said your piece, now let's go," Dreezil said.

Al`Kabor stood and stared at Dreezil for a moment and then adjusted his robe so it better hid some of the faults of his form. He then turned and walked to a back room and spoke with resignation.

"Very well. But I will return if I get bored or find it's a waste of time. For all we know, that foolish high elf is dead."