Discover Top Posts Tagged with #eye amulet

Book 1 - Part 58: A Big Spill

Six blasters were now pointed at him.

“I guess not,” Jack said, shrugging.

“Drop the rod,” demanded the scowling Nagrak with his blaster pointed straight at Jack’s face.

“With pleasure,” said Jack, and he promptly dropped the rod near one edge of the table. However, he exceeded the grim guard’s orders by also dropping himself, as well. The table’s slim legs buckled and collapsed on that side, the opposite edge of the table flipped up, knocking the blasters out of several of the guards hands, hitting one of them in the jaw, and sending cards, coins, and assorted golden trinkets flying into the air.

The surprised guards (except for one who nursed a bruised jaw) popped up to grab at their scattered winnings. Apparently, the game had been very high-stakes, as the guards completely ignored Jack to quarrel among themselves over whose coins and whose cards were mixed with whose, and several fights broke out among them. With the guards preoccupied, Jack triumphantly held the amulet that he had deftly snatched out of the pile of winnings during his fall. Unfortunately, he was now sprawled upon the lap of a Nagrak whose legs had become trapped under the collapsed table.

Jack gave the scowling guard a big grin and swung his recently re-acquired rod around to simultaneously knock the guard out, and to knock his blaster out of his hands. He scrambled up out of the heap to try and make a break for it while the guards were distracted. Unfortunately, the blaster he had just sent soaring smacked one of them in the back of the head. He and the rest of the guards immediately remembered that Jack was the real cause of their dispute. It didn’t help that Jack had fallen directly onto their main pile of gold.

“No trouble fellas,” Jack said, reassuringly putting up his hands and backing away as the guards advanced on him. “The gold’s all yours. I don’t want it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just slip out of your hair...er...scales...and you can get back to your game.”

#EPIC STORY #epic of eternity #pile of gold #eye amulet #brawl with the guards

Book 1 - Part 56: A Supernatural Serpent with a Ridiculous Riddle

“Mine is a power that is divine!” the cleric said savagely, rising to his feet, and continued, “My authority is beyond your feeble comprehension!”

“Yaaaaaawn,” Jack said, and let out an overly dramatic yawn, stretching his arms out and sitting down in front of the griffin.

The cleric gave him a sepulchral glance.

“Am I boring you, Mr. Smith?” he asked with utter contempt.

Jack looked at him with half-lidded eyes, as if barely acknowledging his presence.

“Yeah, pretty much,” he answered.

The cleric did not respond, but sat back down on his elaborate chair, dissecting his opponent with his gaze.

“And what, pray tell, would keep your illustrious interest?”

“I told you before, let’s get down to the business at hand. I thought we were gonna discuss a deal,” Jack said.

“Ah yes, your trinket. The so-called “Eye-Amulet” that you believe to be yours.”

“That’s the one,” said Jack, scratching an itch on his chest.

“And do you have any idea what this object actually is?” the cleric asked.

“Yep. It’s what I came here to get,” answered Jack, succinctly.

“Obviously,” responded the cleric, “but you really have no idea what it is, do you now?” He seemed to be prodding Jack again for some kind of specific answer.

Jack shrugged.

“This object...” continued the cleric, unphased by Jack’s lack of interest, “...is no mere key, as you believe it to be. It is an item of great mystical value, that should be obvious enough, even to a simpleton such as you pretend to be. What if I were to tell you that it’s history goes far back beyond your father simply handing it to you one day as he left on a journey - that its origins lie hidden in the depths of my people’s history, and that the Nagrak’s destiny is forever intertwined with its...”

“Yeah, that’s real grand and all, but I don’t care. All I know is that my dad gave it to me, your guys stole it from me, and I’m here to get it back,” he said curtly, and crossed his arms.

Continuing to ignore Jack’s abruptness, the cleric continued, “...an object that rightfully belongs to my people is not a prize that can be won so easily. Did you ever consider where your father acquired this amulet? Did it ever cross your mind that he may have stolen it?”

“Nope,” responded Jack, completely brushing off that notion.

“And why, may I ask, do you think your father to be so above reproach?”

“Look, “ said Jack, taking a more serious tone, “you may know me, or at least claim to know some things about me, but if you’re callin’ my dad a thief, then you don’t know nothin’. The man was a saint. He never stole nothin’ from nobody, and he wouldnta needed to anyway. He was a wizard. Not the mystical/clerical kind like you claim to be, but a technological wizard. As far as I know, he built that fancy piece of jewelry from scratch. But whether he did or not, it belongs to me now, so you might as well give it back to me.”

“Belongs to you?” replied the cleric. “Now, that is a very interesting assumption, along with all the assumptions that you have made about your so-called “sainted” father. You really know nothing about this device, and yet you charge in here to take it without a second thought. It could belong to my Nagrak brethren and I by birthright for all you know. It could be one of our most sacred relics that has been stolen from us!”

Jack still didn’t give in, and he was getting particularly annoyed at what he saw as the cleric’s blatant attempts to tarnish his father’s image.

“Look. Buddy. Pal. Hooded Snake-Man. I don’t care what you think it is. I don’t care if you believe it’s some ancient relic. I don’t care if it’s the most unholy of unholiest gadgets that has some real grand meaning or unholy significance for you and all your Nagrak chums and that it rightfully belongs to you to perform whatever weird rituals for your wonky religion with whatever seven-headed snake deity at the top of the ladder. I don’t care if you think it’s your grandma’s favorite brooch. All I know is it belonged to my dad, he left it for me, your guys stole it from me, and I want it back.”

“And what if I refuse?” asked the cleric, threateningly.

“Then, I guess we’re stuck with each other,” Jack said, shrugging.

“And how do you figure that, seeing as I have what you want, and you don’t seem to have any means to take it from me, or anything to offer me in return for it?” inquired the cleric.

Jack responded, “You see, I’d been thinking about that, and you’re right, I probably can’t take it from you by force, and I don’t have anything to offer you that I can think of, but that’s what seems odd to me. If you’re as smart as you keep letting on to be, then you’ve known this whole time that I came here empty handed, and yet you’re still trying to make this farce of a bargain with me.”

“What are you getting at?” asked the cleric.

“What I’m getting at,” replied Jack, “is that I do think you want something out of me. Not some object, or something for trade, but information. You may know a lot about me, but there’s something missing that you’ve been trying to figure out.”

“And what would bring you to that conclusion?” the cleric inquired.

“First off, if you’re so in control of the situation as you claim to be, then why let me all the way here to your inner sanctum? Why not just kill me?”

The cleric simply stared at Jack, saying nothing.

“And second of all,” continued Jack, “why stay calm this whole time, and then suddenly throw a tantrum like a little girl when I make a little jab at your so-called “divine power?” Seems a little out of character for a cool customer like you.”

The cleric remained silent and continued to stare at Jack for another moment, as if studying him. After a moment, he said, “Valid questions. And what does my behavior tell you? What knowledge have you gleaned from your sudden insights into the situation?”

“Heh. Just what I thought,” Jack said with a smirk, “More stalling. More studying. You want something from me, but you don’t want to tell me what it is. You want me to give it away somehow. Well, it ain’t gonna work, buster!”

“You’re refusal to answer my questions doesn’t help your situation,” responded the cleric, “We’re still at a stalemate. It’s your own folly, you know. To come here alone, I mean. Typical Jack Smith - always trying to do things by himself. Always has to prove himself to himself. This seems to be a theme in his life. Can’t ever seem to bring himself to ask for help. Had he had assistance, perhaps Lucky Jack would have prevailed against me. But alone? Hardly.” The cleric sneered as he said this - triumphantly confident that he had proven to Jack the impassibility of the situation.

Jack was nonplussed.

“A stalemate? I guess it would look like that at a glance,” said Jack, “but I don’t think we actually are in one.”

“Why’s that?” asked the cleric.

“Because ole’ Jack Smith knows a stalemate when he sees one. Believe me, I’ve been in plenty o’ impasses before, so I’m not as unprepared as you might think. Sure, I came alone. That’s just my style these days - keeps other people from getting hurt in case I get in over my head.”

“Which seems to be your current predicament,” added the cleric.

“Yeah, you’d like me to believe that,” retorted Jack, “but as wily as you are, you’re not as smart as you let on. You know all about divine power and such, but I don’t think you know half as much about gambling as I do.”

“I confess that I don’t indulge in silly games,” the cleric said, conceding Jack’s point.

“Then you’re probably not familiar with a trump card,” said Jack.

“Enlighten me,” said the cleric.

“The trump card is the beat-all and end-all. Doesn’t matter what you stack against it. It wins. Every time.”

“And you believe you possess one of these so-called ‘trump cards,’” the cleric asked, doubtfully.

“You betcha!” answered Jack.

“And are you going to share with me what it is, or do you plan to have me keep guessing?”

“Oh, I think you may have already guessed,” said Jack, “but just to lay it all out on the table: I’m indestructible.”

“Indestructible?” scoffed the cleric.

“Yep,” responded Jack with closed eyes and a grin from ear to ear, “Indestructible. Invulnerable. Unstoppable. Indefatigable. Can’t-be-stopped. Call it what you will.”

“Even if that were true, and not incredibly pretentious on your part, illuminate me on how this gives you the upper hand in your current crisis? Your supposed invulnerability hasn’t allowed you to overcome my power and spirit away your missing trinkets,” the cleric inquired.

“Wrongo, bucko! And you know it! You see, I have a theory about you. I think all those traps and tests and laser-eyes and falling columns were to see if I really was as unstoppable as I think, and you think, I am. You had guessed all along that I couldn’t be stopped, and you wanted to make sure.”

“Maybe. Or perhaps I just was trying to kill you?”

“Nope! I don’t buy it,” said Jack, “If you had wanted to kill me, you would have done it by now, but you proved to yourself that you can’t, and that I would never stop until I found you and got what I wanted.”

“Have you considered that you did actually die, and I used my magics to revive you?” asked the cleric.

“Sure, it crossed my mind, and don’t get me wrong, I believe you got some powerful voodoo going on - what with transporting me from one room to another, and all the magic tricks and stuff - but it hasn’t cut the mustard so far. Face it. You can’t kill me. You can hurt me. Slow me down maybe, but I’ll just keep on a’comin.’”

“And what if I use this power to transport you far away?” asked the cleric, “Or maybe I’ve already done so? Perhaps you’re in an ancient temple underground, or an old church, or on a far off planet, or maybe I’ve shrunk you down, or taken you back in time...or perhaps forward in time....”

“Yeah, or maybe I’m over the river and through the woods and at grandma’s house! Who cares? You and I both know it’s not gonna stop me. I’m too dumb and strong and determined to quit. I’ll find a way out, so you might as well just give me what I want and I’ll let you alone.”

The cleric continued, “And what if you’re no farther from the entrance than when you started? What if I have already shrunk you down, and you’re still trapped in the box, fighting for air? What if I’m not even here, and you’re trapped in a hell-like shadow realm of your own recurring nightmares for all of eternity?”

“Then I guess I’m stuck here, but seeing as you don’t seem to be going anywhere, I guess we’re stuck together, and if one of us doesn’t die of boredom first, we’ll figure the way out.”

“And if you’re shrunk down - still in the box?” the cleric continued.

Jack shrugged. “Then you’ll probably unshrink me.”

“Perhaps I would, if your mind wasn’t so limited.”

“How so?” asked Jack.

“Your mind can’t possibly understand that you can still be stuck in a shrinking box, but not be shrunk yourself, or that you can be outside of the box, but not be shrunken.”

Jack scratched his head. “Speaking in vague riddles isn’t going to help either of us out of this situation.”

“Perhaps it would, if it got you thinking. It’s not as if you’ve done much of that so far,”

“How’s that?” asked Jack, ignoring the cleric’s sarcasm.

“Take this amulet of yours for instance...”

“I will, thank you,” said Jack, reaching his hand out, palm upward.

“Not so fast. You tried to use this amulet to escape from the shrinking box, even though you knew its purpose was for something else - a portal through space, if I’m not mistaken. Why would you do that? Or is it just that you’ve always been one of those children who try to jam square pegs into round holes?”

“Hey, man! I was confused and desperate. My air was running out. I was being crushed. I didn’t have much time to think, let alone create a reasonable plan of escape! I used what I had at hand. That’s survival tip number one.”

“And that’s the real key, isn’t it?” the cleric said with a sneer. “But the key didn’t let you out. I let you out. Once you had stopped trying to muscle your way through and stopped to think for a moment.”

“And why should you be so concerned for me? Unless you’re just trying to confirm my suspicions - that you either don’t want me dead or can’t kill me at all,” responded Jack.

“My reasons are my own, but perhaps you could guess at them if you took a moment to think. Perhaps I’ve been testing your intellect this whole time because I want to make you my apprentice? Though that wouldn’t seem very likely as you’ve shown how witless you can be. You wouldn’t even have been able to find your way around the corridors of this ship, had I not sent a little green whirlwind to guide you. No, not an apprentice, it would seem, but perhaps I wanted to test your great strength and endurance, knowing you could make a good mercenary or thug in my employ. Good help is always hard to come by, you know? Especially someone who could be used as an indestructible tool.”

“Dad always said my head was as hard as a monkey wrench,” Jack said with a laugh, lightly knocking on the side of his head with his fist.

“So it would seem,” the cleric said, unamused by Jack’s levity, “but I don’t think you’re near as impervious as you suppose.”

“Oh no?” Jack said, raising an eyebrow.

“Sadly, no,” the cleric said with a sigh, “and unfortunately, you’ve failed to qualify for the other reason for which I may have brought you here.”

“Oh, really?” asked Jack, “And are you finally going to step down off your high horse to my level and let me know what that reason is?”

“Yesss,” said the cleric, with a cruel hiss. “I ssseek...”

“Yesss?” asked Jack, mocking the cleric’s lisp.

“A WORTHY OPPONENT!” the cleric said suddenly, raising his arms majestically towards the ceiling. His booming voice echoed throughout the hollow hall.

Jack waited for the echoes to die down.

“Oh, is that all?” he finally said, drolly. “Well, that’s pretty anticlimactic.”

“Do not mock me!” warned the cleric, pointing his staff threateningly at Jack.

“Well, you see, I really wouldn’t, but you haven’t given me much reason not to.”

“Hmph,” responded the cleric, “and I suppose you believe yourself to actually be a worthy opponent to me? Do not make me laugh. You already failed the tests of strength, endurance, patience, concentration and distraction, courage, intelligence and wit...”

“I think I figured out what your real plan is,” interrupted Jack.

“Oh, really?” retorted the cleric, perturbed at being interrupted.

“Yeah, you’re going to bore me to death.”

“Am I now?” responded the cleric sharply.

“Either that, or you’re desperately grasping at straws.”

“As I was saying,” continued the cleric, “you’ve definitely failed the test of intelligence.”

“How do you figure?”

“For instance, you’ve always perceived the Nagrak as brutish thugs. You’ve always tried to overcome them with your fists, but when confronted with something that didn’t fit into your preconceived notions (myself, for instance), what do you do? Do you change your tactics? Do you try to think your way out of the situation? Do you try to to be clever, rather than just flexing your muscles? No. You do the same thing you’ve always done. You charge ahead and beat your head against a wall. I had thought that you had some perceptiveness to you, but you’ve definitely proved me wrong on that point.”

“Okay, you got me. I’m a hard-headed, shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later kinda guy. I think we’ve pretty much established that, but let’s get down to brass tax: what can I do to prove to you that I am a ‘worthy opponent?’”

The cleric did not answer, but took a seat on his throne. He stared at Jack, pondering him.

“Well?” asked Jack.

The cleric continued to stare at Jack in silence.

“Come on, lizard-man, throw me a bone here! You know you want this stalemate ended as much as I do!”

“I was just thinking of a way you could prove your intelligence to me. I believe I have it! Very well, answer me this question, and you may have what you desire.”

“Lay it on me,” said Jack, confidently.

“What is seen, but not felt. What can speak, but does not feel. What do you reach for, but slips right out of your grasp? What do you yearn for, but can never have?” The cleric folded his hands in his lap and waited for a reply.

“That’s it? A riddle?” asked Jack, surprised.

“That’s it,” responded the cleric affirmatively.

“So, let me get this straight: I answer your riddle, and you give me the amulet? Is that what you’re telling me?” Jack asked, suspicious of the cleric’s integrity.

“That’s right.”

“And, you’ll give me my other stuff, including the...”

“Yes, including that.”

“Just like that? No tricks?” probed Jack again.

“Yesss,” hissed the cleric, impatiently, “however, if you continue to try my patience with these needless questions, I may reconsider, and you will have to deal with my so-called “tricks” till the end of eternity, or until you learn how to stop wasting your breath, whichever happens first.”

“Right,” said Jack, “Fine. Just gimme a minute to think.”

The cleric sat silent once more as Jack thought.

Hmmm. What is seen, but not felt? What can speak, but does not feel? What do you reach for, but slips right out of your grasp? What do you yearn for, but can never have? He reviewed the words over and over in his mind. What do I yearn for? What have I been trying to get this whole time? The amulet, of course. That slipped out of my grasp. Wait. “Slipped out of my grasp?” That reminds me of that story my dad told me - the one with the hungry and thirsty guy who couldn’t get any fruit, or anything to drink. What was his name again?

Jack thought for another moment, looked over at the flaming cauldron that contained what was currently out of his grasp. He thought hard...

“TANTALUS!” he burst out suddenly.

“I beg your pardon?” asked the cleric, startled.

“Oh...uh...nothing...nevermind. That’s not my answer, by the way. Just thinking out loud,” Jack said, a little embarrassed.

Tantalus. Jack thought again, this time to himself. His name was Tantalus, and that’s where the word, tantalize, comes from. I remember my dad was trying to make a point to me back in the day when he told me that story. I got it then, but can I remember it, now?

Jack kept on thinking. The cleric tapped his foot impatiently.

“No need to rush me,” Jack told him. “Besides, you didn’t give me a time limit, so I’ll take as long as I want.” Jack stuck his tongue out at the lizard-man.

If his hood hadn’t been covering them at the moment, Jack would have seen the cleric roll his eyes.

“Very well. No rush. Take all the time you need. As you pointed out, we’re stuck with each other until we, or rather, you, come up with a solution.”

“Right. Now, hush!” Jack told him sharply, and resumed thinking.

Where was I? Oh, right, “tantalize.” Dad was trying to make a point. What do you reach for, but slips right out of your grasp? Seems to me like that Tantalus guy was stuck in a trap of his own mind - like his own personal version of hell. The harder he reached, the further he got from what he wanted. Maybe if he’d just sat down and thought for a while, instead of trying the same thing over and over, he coulda come up with a different solution. Hmmm...kinda like what I did when I was stuck in that shrinking box. I realized I couldn’t fight my way out, so I just sat down, took a deep breath, and let go. Speaking of which, that’s kinda the same thing I did when I realized that lizard-guy and I had reached a stalemate. I figured it wouldn’t do any good beatin’ my head against the wall anymore, so I just sat down and took a breather. Is that what you were tryin’ to teach me dad? To just let go and think things through calmly? Funny. That’s sounds just like what this lizard guy has been saying to me the whole time: let go of my hot-headed emotions and think clearly. Did you send this guy to me dad? Is that you in a funny disguise, trying to knock another lesson into my thick head? Nah. He doesn’t smell right to be you. It’s not your style, but it is a strange coincidence. Would be funny if it were you, though. Though yer too tall to fit in that goofy costume...if it is a costume...I wonder what that guy actually looks like? Like he said, he doesn’t look like any Nagrak I’ve ever seen before. Wait! Didn’t he say somethin’ about appearing the way I would expect him to appear? All mystical and such? So, if that’s what he wants me to see him as, then maybe this whole room isn’t what it appears to be, either. I knew I felt that there was something off about this place from the beginning. This is the inside of a ship, not an old, musty cathedral. I’m not standing before an unholy altar. I’m in the ship’s hold, where they would keep any stolen goods. This guy isn’t really here. He’s been playin’ me for a fool this whole time - trying to get me stuck in a mind trap. The amulet’s right in front of me, all I have to do is reach out and take it!

“I’ve got yer answer,” Jack announced to the cleric, who had taken the opportunity while Jack was arranging his thoughts to doze off.

“It certainly took you long enough,” the cleric said, rousing himself.

“What do you reach for, but slips right out of your grasp?” Jack said, repeating the cleric’s question.

“An illusion,” he said, triumphantly.

“Congratulations,” said the cleric. “You certainly are your father’s son.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just a simple observation,” responded the cleric. “If I know anything about your father (which I do), than I knew all along that you believed that you couldn’t be beat physically, and so I set up a situation where you would have to use your brain. Your father would have been proud to see you reasoning through your problems.”

“Compliments now, huh? Well that’s certainly a change of pace for ya.’ But I’m still not sold that you really know anything about me or my dad.”

“You’d be surprised at what I know,” said the cleric. “I know that you and your father possess superhuman abilities: especially strength, speed, stamina, invulnerability, etc. Of course, I had to be sure that your mind contained even a whiff of the intelligence your father possesses to be sure you two were actually related, and that the resemblance wasn’t just skin deep. Speaking of you and your father, have you ever actually wondered how he came to obtain such extraordinary power, and how, albeit in diluted form, he passed that power on to you?”

Jack shrugged. “Maybe ‘cause I was raised right and he fed me all my greens?”

“And your father?” inquired the cleric.

“Maybe his dad fed him some extra special greens?” Jack answered, wryly.

The cleric shook his head. “A normal man would have been killed by all the tests that I put you through, and you attribute your powers and prowess to vegetables. Simply stunning. Well, be that as it may, you did pass the test, and you did prove yourself.”

“So, you think I’m your ‘worthy opponent,’ huh?” Jack asked, bouncing his eyebrows, and grinning widely.

“Hardly,” said the cleric, with disdain. “However, you will make a an adequate weapon to wield.”

“Huh? Weapon?” Jack said, not catching the cleric’s meaning.

“And speaking of weapons,” added the cleric, “here is yours, as promised.”

#salamander sorcerer #EPIC STORY #epic of eternity #eye amulet #Nazar Amulet #trump card #gambling man #poker face #Supernatural Serpent #ridiculous riddle