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The Babble Chalice
an illustrated tale
page 1

    The night sea air was heavy with the salty breeze that swirled and twisted around them.  The cloudless sky gave a perfect panorama of the stars above.  Garalt never took the time anymore to look at them, but tonight, he decided to indulge himself.  Alyia had long retired in the school's only guest house, and the ever vigilant Tundrock stood in the doorway protecting her from any and all threats.  Garalt smiled at the giant knight's devotion to her and to his king.

    "Please tell me the elves are just on the other side of the city where I can't see them." Garn addressed Demonclaw and Garalt.
    Garalt looked over at the elder paladin, his usual grim features were barely visible in the twilight.
    "I'm afraid not, Garn," Demonclaw answered, "After they heard that we could be transported through the Polestar, they left to start the long journey home.  Fortunately Sion was able to give them a heading to go on to reach Kahlan."
    "How many know we are Ikrosian?" asked Garalt.
    "Very few, apparently," Garn responded, "Wurrelin and Sion have not shared our secret with anyone... yet."
    "I for one trust him," Garalt said slowly.  Garalt chuckled to himself.
    "What's so funny Garalt?" Demonclaw asked, raising an eyebrow.
    "Oh, it's nothing really.  I was just remembering a conversation I had with Kullvox long ago.  He told me I was a good judge of character."
    "Well, if anything, you're a good choice to lead this expedition, even if it does seemed cursed right from the start." Garn smiled.
    "We're not cursed, just really good at steering into dragon's fire in a very flammable airship." Demonclaw replied with mock pride.  The three chuckled.
    "Get some sleep you two, who knows what this competition tomorrow will bring." Garn smiled.
    Each of the four walked over to a quiet corner of the city to find shelter from the moist breeze.  Garalt sat himself against part of the Polestar, hidden from the moonlight, and drifted fast asleep.

    The dawn shown brightly down on the small crowd of students surrounding the Polestar's enclosure.  Beequee and Wurrelin had already decided which of Garalt's group would be fighting that morning, and they had chosen Garalt, Demonclaw, and Drakon.  The three warriors were standing where the trees once were on the one side of the Polestar, with the rest of their friends on the ledge above them.
    "They must do this often," Drakon remarked, "having their trees in pots."
    "Yeah, so often that they bet on them.  I've got ten to one odds against me!" Demonclaw smiled.
    "How much are you betting on yourself?" Garalt smiled.
    "Why, everything and the shirt on my back!"
    "All right!" Wurrelin addressed the crowd, gaining their attention, "Our rules are simple, but since we have guests we shall review them once more.  Each battle is between two combatants.  If anyone tries to help a contestant while the battle is on, will disqualify that contestant.  You lose if you are unable to continue the battle, or you are unable to defend yourself."
    "To win the right to drink from the Babble Chalice and to use the Polestar, you must win two of three battles.  The first contestant will be..." Beequee paused, "Demonclaw!"
    The crowd shot up in a roar as Demonclaw strutted into the center of the battlefield, just in front of the guest quarters.
    "You hear that Garalt?  They LOVE me!"  Demonclaw waved to the crowd.  His hand froze in mid air as the ground beneath him began to tremble with a low thud.  And another.  And another.

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All characters contained within this page and website are purely fictional, any resemblance to persons either living or otherwise is purely coincidental.  All material  contained herein are copyrighted 2001 by and property of Anthony J. Sava III.  Any copying or reproduction of said material is strictly prohibited except with expressed written authorization.