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The Greatest Fantasy Story Ever: Chapter Seven
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Thracia Alba



Joined: 27 Jan 2006
Posts: 474
Location: The Golden State

Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 12:21 am    Post subject: The Greatest Fantasy Story Ever: Chapter Seven  

"The Greatest Fantasy Story Ever"

Chapter Seven: In Which Heads Burst Spontaneously into Flame


Kristelle stopped and turned sharply. "What did you say?" she demanded.

"I said, please wait," replied the boy, who jogged up to her, eyes full of pleading.

The princess hesitated. No one had ever talked to her that way before... It was weird. "Why?" she said, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

"Well, I, um, I mean," the boy fumbled, turning crimson, "um, well, I, we, uh, might need your, um, help."

"Be careful with your pronouns, boy," that annoying elf snapped from behind them.

Kristelle considered this. "Is that all?"

"Well, uh, yeah. I think. No! Wait..."

She examined the boy before her closely for the first time. Tall, lanky, scruffy blond hair, far more elbows and knees than any one individual should be allowed to possess, with an eager, open, honest face. Something about him reminded Kristelle strongly of her father, and it was annoying her. Typical, she thought. Bet he only came out here to rescue me from the tower. Well, is he ever in for a surprise. No, best not to get involved in that. "Sorry," Kristelle said with as much indifference as she could muster, "not interested." She turned on her heel and marched determinedly away. That is, until something grabbed her by the ankles. A moment thereafter she was treated to a face full of forest floor. "Hey, what's the big idea?" she shouted, coughing and spluttering. She twisted around awkwardly and glared at the boy, who was lying on his stomach with a death grip around her ankles.

"I, I'm sorry," he stuttered. "I don't know what's come over me. Just... please don't leave me!"

The elf, who was standing a ways off and gazing upon the spectacle with an expression of disgust and embarrassment, groaned. "Oh, how pathetic. I can see where this is going."

As usual, Kristelle ignored him. The nerve of this boy! she thought. I ought to beat him senseless! I ought to sweep the floor with that broom-hair of his! Yet try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to be overly angry with him, even though she felt she probably should. Why? Maybe it was because she felt sorry for him. Maybe it was because, of all the people who had ever been charged with staying with her and keeping an eye on her and making sure she didn't do something stupid like wander off on her own, he was the first one who seemed to genuinely want her company. Maybe it was because he had said, "me". Besides, she told herself, if he blunders off and something attacks him, that useless elf will most likely run away to save his own skin. Will I really want his death on my conscience? "Fine," she said finally, careful to keep a certain amount of annoyance in her voice, "I'll come with you. But only so I can prove that moronic elf wrong," she added hastily.

The elf rolled his eyes. "If you must insist on being so resoundingly immature, I'll come along as well to help the boy find his way again when your "tracks" turn out to be a false lead. But rest assured that, when that time comes, I won't say, 'I told you so"," he said. "That would be more your style, and I'd hate to steal your thunder."

But Coriander was grinning like a science fiction fanatic who's found William Shatner's wallet at a Babylon 5 convention after having been offered a walk-on role in Star Wars Episode VII: No, We're Never Going to Stop Milking This Cow for What it's Worth, No Matter How Much We Ruin the Story. "You mean it?" he asked as if he couldn't believe his luck. "You'll really come along?"

"Yes, but only on one condition."

"Anything!"

"Let go of my ankles, please."

"Oh," he said, blushing. "Sorry."

---

"Ah! You, good sir!"

The tollbooth elf looked up from his thumbs, which he had been resolutely twiddling, to see a tall, blond figure on a magnificent steed. The man stood ramrod-straight in the saddle, had a well-trimmed beard, and looked generally like someone who has a great deal of money. This would have very much impressed anyone else, but the elf had been sitting at a wooden booth for three days and was in no mood to feel much of anything except resentment and overwhelming ennui. "What are you," he asked flatly, "some kind of big-shot lord?"

The man grinned like a pumpkin and shook his head. "No, no, I'm just a regular, hardworking citizen like you."

The elf looked the other man up and down. "Yes, I could tell from your obviously thoroughbred horse and your expensive riding garments that you are, in fact, just like me."

The sarcasm seemed to be lost on the mounted figure, who beamed ever more broadly at the comment. "Really? Because I did think wearing an older set would have been more appropriate, but my wife did insist..."

"Did she now," the elf replied, though his mind was already beginning to wander. He turned his eyes skyward and considered the clouds. Wow, that one looks just like an elephant stomping on a horse... No wait, now it's a goldfish. Sensing a pair of eyes watching him intently, he added, "Toll is five copper. Just follow the winding path, you'll get to the tower in a day and a half, ekcetra, ekcetra, that sort of thing."

"A day and a half?" the man snorted. "That's ridiculous! How long would it take if I went straight through?"

"Well, it's about a mile southwest of here, but..." He stopped suddenly, his brow furrowing. "Hey, are you sure you haven't already--" he began, but the man had already gone. And lying in the money-jar was a fat, gold coin. The elf picked it up, examined it, bit an edge experimentally, examined it again, and gazed off into the entrance of the forest. "Just a regular, hardworking citizen, huh?" he mumbled. "And here I am sitting in a box."

---

"What was that?"

"I said, uh," Coriander faltered, "I, uh, like your hair." That was the sort of thing you were supposed to say to girls, right?

Instead of looking pleased, though, the girl who was now walking beside Coriander looked at him as if he had sprouted another head.

Coriander sagged. "Uh, nevermindforgetIsaidanythingdidn'tmeantooffendyou," he said in one breath.

Behind them, Burrberry let out a long, frustrated sigh. The elf had all but refused to come along as they headed back toward the cave, but Coriander had been adamant. The youth couldn't help feeling guilty for using Burrberry's obligation like that, but he still might need his help. Besides, faced with the prospect of never seeing the girl again, mildly insulting the elf seemed a great deal more tolerable. Coriander didn't know why, but something about this girl made him want to thump his chest, howl at the top of his lungs, and swing through the forest on a vine (if, indeed, the J'naeric woods had possessed any). Instead, though, he made mangled attempts at small-talk. "So, uh," he ventured, "did you know that 'boredly' isn't really a word?" Huh, he thought at the same time, wonder what made me think to ask that?

Strange though the question was, it, at least, seemed to finally catch the girl's attention. "Really?" she said. "It sounds like it should be."

Coriander perked up considerably. "I know, I was just as surprised when I found out."

She scratched her chin thoughtfully. "I sure hope that mistake is never made by some poor, miserable wretch with delusions of grammatical aptitude. They'd feel like a real idiot if someone were to point it out."

"Yeah, but I bet they'd never make the same error again. By the way," he continued, feeling at last a bit more at ease, "what is your name?" Mentally he added, I bet it's something beautiful like Harmony or Aurora or Rose. A name as beautiful as you are... What am I thinking?!

"I am Pri..." she began, and then a brief expression of horror washed over her features, but it was gone so quickly that Coriander wondered whether he had seen it at all. "...scilla," she finished. "My name's Priscilla. And yours?"

"Coriander," he replied, a bit disappointed. Oh well, Priscilla was a lovely name, too. Sort of. "Oh," he said, suddenly remembering the elf sullenly following them, "and the elf's name is Burr--"

"I don't care what his name is," Priscilla interrupted. "It could be mud, for all I care."

"And I don't care about this infant's made-up name, either," snapped Burrberry.

"Burrberry, that was rude!" rebuked Coriander, though a nagging voice in the back of his mind insisted that Priscilla's remark had been very rude as well. He ignored it. "Why would Priscilla do something like make up a fake name?"

"Because she wants to hide her identity, of course."

Priscilla had turned a deep crimson but spoke in a level tone. "I have nothing to hide. Not from you, at any rate."

"Speaking of rates," Coriander added hastily, "don't you guys think it's a good idea to keep moving? I'd like to reach the caves before it gets too dark to see."

Burrberry sneered. "Why worry about that? I'm sure little Miss Ranger here could guide you just fine."

"Bite me, blondie!"

"Good comeback. Do you write all your own material?"

Coriander sighed and placed his face in his hands. At this rate, we'll be reaching the caves by nightfall... five years from now.

---

Five years from now... That's how long it would most likely be before Kristelle found a man who'd be strong-willed or stupid enough to be her husband. Croquette sighed softly and gazed out the window across the city that was basking in the late-afternoon sun. What a stupid idea it was, to lock her up in that tower, she mentally berated herself. Croquette loved her daughter, but Kristelle had a tendency to rub people the wrong way. As much as she hated to admit it, no lad in his right mind was going to fight a dragon for her. Not if he knew what she was like. And everyone did. Of course, it sounded so sensible when Magden suggested it. Then again, that witch could sell sun-block to Eskimos. Where is she, anyway? No matter. She had far more important things to worry about. Like... Croquette thought for a moment. Hm. She couldn't really think of anything. Goosegrass had left shortly after lunch (a little more than five hours ago), and though she had promised to hold down the fort while he was gone, she suspected that was really more a job for the many court advisors. King Goosander was always out hunting anyway, and she, well, she simply hadn't been bred for leadership like Goosegrass had.

Croquette rested her chin on her hand and furrowed her brow anxiously. That was one thing that had always bothered her, as happy as she had been for the past eighteen years. Of course, one mustn't dwell on negative thoughts, but she couldn't help but feel just a tad guilty. Goosegrass could've had his pick of any girl, any one of the many princesses, duchesses, and other women of high birth from around the known world. Instead he had fallen for the drab girl in the drab little hut in drab Meh, her horrible hometown. And why? because she had cheated, that's why. She had used a love potion that she had purchased through a catalogue. If she hadn't used it, would he have even fallen in love with her? Surely not. But, she attempted to convince herself, it must have been more than pure chance that led him to my house just at that moment. And anyway, that potion most likely wore off years and years ago. If he didn't really love me, he would have realized it after it did. But there was always that niggling little worm of doubt eating away at the back of her mind. At least she knew how her daughter must feel.

She smiled sadly. Kristelle must have always thought no one noticed the tinge of loneliness behind that defiant gaze. That no one noticed how she'd gaze off into the distance sometimes and sigh, as if her heart were homesick for a place it had never known. Croquette noticed, though. A mother noticed these things. It was her job to notice these things. Poor Kristelle, Croquette thought sadly. She was born of the wrong parents, in the wrong place, at the wrong time. I do hope she finds what it is she's supposed to do.

The princess was snapped out of her reverie moments later by the sound of scurrying feet in the hallway outside the solar. "Your Highness, Princess, you must hurry to the infirmary!" Croquette turned to see Bridget, one of the castle cleaning girls, standing red-faced and breathless at the doorway.

"Hm? What is it? Did that poor Sokir man take a turn for the worse?"

"No, my lady! It's your father-in-law, the king! He's had a terrible accident!"

Croquette felt the blood drain from her face. "An accident?" she demanded. "What kind of accident? How bad is he hurt?" She was at the doorway now, gripping the poor girl by the shoulders.

"I d-don't know, my lady!" Bridget stuttered, shaking with fear. "I only just saw John and Frank from the stables carrying him in, still in his hunting clothes and blood all over his shirt, and I ran to tell you straight away!"

"Very well," said the princess, releasing her. "Run and make sure someone tells the prin--" She stopped and groaned. That's right, Goosegrass was probably at J'naeric Forest by now. Of all the times for him to be gone! "Never mind," she said hurriedly, and, hitching up her skirts, ran off in the direction of the infirmary, the frightened maid at her heels. Soon the hallway was silent and empty.

Almost empty.

At the end of the hallway, back in a place where no sunlight ever reached and the spiders reigned, stood a shadow.

It grinned.

---

"Gemma?"

"Yes, Cleo?"

"How long do you think we've been here?"

"I didn't have a watch last time you asked. Or the time before that. Or the time before that. Why do think I would now?"

"There's no need to get snippish. It's not my fault Count Otto can't pronounce the "th" sound properly, no matter how many times you try to get him to do so."

"I haff been trying very hard!"

"I know, dear. It's all right. We'll get through this hurdle yet."

"I don't see why you've been buddying up to someone who plans to turn us into citrus-consuming, undead denizens of the night just so he can have some company in his exile. Which he deserves."

"I hardly ssink ssat's very fair..."

"It's all right, Count Otto. Don't pay any attention to Cleo; she's just bitter because her whole life's been one massive, textbook failure up to this point."

"Like yours hasn't?"

"At least I quit that lousy job while I was ahead."

"Yeah, and you ended up being stuck with Coriander."

"Touché."

"I'll bet that flake's not even..."

"Not even what? Intelligent? Sane? Human?"

"Shut up, I hear something."

"Oh, not again. Will you stop hearing things already? Every time you do, something bad happens."

"It sounds like two people arguing. It's coming from that way."

"Which way?"

"The way I'm pointing to."

"Look, I can't even see my own hand in front of my face..."

"Vell, i can see vhich vay you are pointing, und ssat is towards sse Mouss of sse Cave."

"What?"

"I ssink ve haff Visitors. Vhat a lucky Day! More Members for my Club!"

"...Count?"

"I think he went off to greet our 'visitors', Gemma."

"Oh. Think you can get us out of here, then?"

"Why should I be able to? Besides, I thought you liked it here."

"Because you're the one with the super-elven senses. And as much as I feel the poor Count could use my help, I don't relish the idea of living off oranges for the rest of my miserable existance."

"Well, my 'super-elven senses' consist of little more than heightened hearing."

"But don't you feel guilty when you eat vegetables? I bet their little souls just cry out to you."

"Oh, shut up."

---

"Seriously, shut up."

"But Miss Ranger, surely the tracks you were expecting must be here somewhere! You couldn't have been wrong about coming back here, after all," said Burrberry, looking a great deal more smug than he had previously.

Priscilla growled. "Look, I can't account for the fact that there aren't any more tracks here, but that doesn't make those backward tracks you were following any less backward, either!"

Coriander threw his hands into the air; he was getting downright sick of this, and the fact that it seemed Priscilla had been wrong wasn't helping. It was embarrassing to think that he had discarded Burrberry's advice so easily. "Look, I don't know," he cried desperately. "Maybe they're in the stupid cave!"

The silence that followed was unexpected, he had to admit. Priscilla and Burrberry looked at each other, the ever-present animosity suddenly lost. "Well, I suppose it's possible..." said Burrberry.

Priscilla nodded. "It would explain the absence of tracks..."

"Not that you were right, of course, but if they were far in enough I mightn't have heard them..."

"To think that you were going all that way..."

"When they were right under our noses from the start..."

Coriander stared at them, his jaw dropping in amazement. A moment ago the two of them had been fighting like rabid weasels over the half-eaten carcass of a pigeon, and now they were being almost civil to each other! Maybe there were noxious fumes coming from the cave. "Well," he began in a faint voice, "what do you think we should--"

"Wait, I hear something moving inside," whispered Burrberry.

Priscilla and Coriander listened intently for several moments. "What is it?" the girl asked in hushed tones, which was a first.

"I'm... not sure. It sounds too heavy to be either of the escapees, but it's moving around like someone who knows how to keep quiet. What we need to do is wait carefully and see what it... Where'd she go?"

Coriander looked up. Burrberry was standing at the other end of the cave mouth, and Priscilla was gone. A moment later he heard something that sounded like the screech of a bat and a dull thud, and then a dragging sound. He gasped. "The creature's got Priscilla! We've got to go in and save--"

"Hold it, lover-boy," Burrberry interrupted with disgust. "Your princess of the woods is just fine."

"But I heard that thing hit her, and now it's dragging her off!"

"Just wait a sec, okay?"

Coriander bounced anxiously on his toes, but he had learned not to discount the elf's advice so quickly, and waited. Sure enough, though, the dragging sound was getting louder. Aha, it's dragging her out here, is it? he thought, grinning madly. Well, we'll have a surprise in store for it when it gets here. He drew his sword and waited, and a moment later something appeared. He leaped at it, shouting, "Attack my friends, will you, you foul beast of..." He faltered, for what had emerged from the dark recesses of the cave into the slightly brighter gloom of the forest was not some many-toothed monster, but rather was Priscilla, dragging a stunned-looking little man in a black cape.

She glanced at Coriander inquisitively. "What are you shouting for? I already took care of him for you."

Burrberry strode forward, his face twitching with annoyance. "That was so stupid I can't even begin... Just marching in there like that... You had no idea what was there!"

She shrugged. "Well, I wasn't torn to shreds, and here's your monster." She let go of her captor and he thudded to the ground. "Hey, wake up," she demanded, prodding him with the butt of her spear. "I hardly hit you at all. Come on, stop being such a big baby and tell us what you were skulking around in there for."

Groaning, the diminutive figure staggered to his feet. He was a short, young-looking man, dressed against all logic in a tuxedo with the aforementioned black cape. His similarly black, well-oiled hair receded from a sharp widow's peak, and had the overall appearance of someone who thinks of fresh air and healthy exercise as things that happen to other people. "Vhy did you hit me?" he whined. "I vas just comink to greet you!"

Feeling he should make some sort of sense, if possible, out of this situation, Coriander stepped forward. "Look, mister, I'm sorry you were treated so rudely. It's just that my friends and I have had a long day, and we're looking for..." he trailed off and sniffed the air. "Hey, does anyone else smell something burning?"

There was a pause, and then Priscilla said, "It smells like burning hair." They all turned to their new acquaintance, whose hair was, indeed, beginning to curl and smoke in a spot where a beam of light had, in brash defiance of statistical probability, pierced the gloom of the forest and come to rest on his head. An expression of horror spread over the face of the strange little man. And then his head burst into flames.

"AAAAAEEEEEIIIIIIIIII!!!" he screamed, slapping in vain at the merrily-burning locks. The other three stood, too stunned to act, as he ran about in a blind panic and crashed off into the trees, a strangled cry of "Sheiße sheiße sheiße!!" fading into the distance.

For a moment Coriander, Priscilla, and Burrberry did nothing, and merely continued to gaze off in dropped-jaw dumbness in the direction in which the man had disappeared. Burrberry was the first to break the silence. "Well," he said with a tinge of embarrassment. "Um. Well."

Priscilla blinked. "That was a vampire, wasn't it?"

"Either that or the first eye-witnessed victim of spontaneous combustion."

"Wow," she said. "I guess I should feel bad or something."

"It's all right," Coriander was quick to reassure her. "There's no way you could have known."

"It's just, gosh, a vampire hanging out in a place like this. Who'd've guessed, huh? Oh, well." She shrugged. "Time's a-wastin'."

Burrberry snorted. "A true humanitarian if ever I saw one."

"No, I'd have to be a vampiritarian in this case."

"What on earth are you lot babbling on about?" came a familiar voice from within the cave. The three spun around to witness the lurching emergence of two figures who looked as though they had been the first two people to be literally dragged through a knothole and survive, but only in the technical sense of the word. They were stumbling and squinting in the sudden gloom (which was a great deal brighter than the interior of the cave). One was limping a bit and the other was clutching its side and wincing.

Priscilla rolled her eyes. "Great. As if a vampire weren't enough, now we have to deal with his zombie minions!" But Coriander hadn't seemed to hear her, for he was already bounding excitedly towards the two.

"Gemma!" he shouted, beaming. "Cleo! We've been looking all over for you! Where were you?"

The shorter, dark-haired, side-clutching one shook her head. "Coriander, if I had any strength at all, I'd kill you for asking that question."

He smiled wider, if such a thing was possible. "It's the same old Gemma, all right! And how're you holding up, Cleo?" The limping one said nothing but affixed the youth with a glare of exhausted menace. The smile morphed into an expression of concern. "Hey," he said, "that vampire didn't beat you two up, did he? Because if he did..."

Gemma held up one hand to silence him. "Relax, Rambo. Count Otto only kidnapped us and planned to turn us into blood orange-sucking creatures of the night, all in a very annoying accent."

"Oh," replied Coriander a tad uncertainly. "Then how'd you get all banged-up like that?"

"That was from finding our way out," sighed Cleo.

"Yeah, no thanks to Miss Check-Out-My-Keen-Elven-Senses here."

"I never said I could echo-locate, Gemma!"

Burrberry interrupted, stepping forward with the self-important air of someone who finally figures things are back in his court again. "Well, now that I've fulfilled my obligation, I believe it's time to apprehend the criminals whom I was sent to, um, apprehend." He faltered for a moment, and then seemed to give up. "All right, you lot, just come along with me and no one gets hurt, okay?"

Gemma growled. "Look here, elf, I don't know who the heck you think you are, but I'm in no mood to..." her voice trailed off as she lurched forward and peered up into the elf's face. "Hey, I know you. You're that elf who arrested us before. You hit me over the head with your bow!"

Burrberry was beginning to look slightly uncomfortable. "Well, I really didn't have much of a choice in the matter. I had a job to arrest trespassers. Have," he corrected himself.

A change had come over Gemma's face, though, one that Coriander was certain boded evil: she was smiling. Sweetly. He shuddered. "Oh, no harm done," she purred. Everyone was staring at her as if she had sprouted another head. "We all have our jobs to do, after all. Far be it from me to hinder you."

When Burrberry spoke next, there was an edge of panic to his voice. "You're not?" he asked unbelievingly.

"Oh, no, I wouldn't dream of it. All I ask is one little show of good faith. Just so I'll know you're not doing this because you want to."

"Er... What is it?"

"That's such an exquisite weapon you're carrying," Gemma went on, indicating the yew bow that Burrberry was now clutching so tightly that his knuckles had become white. "I really am such an admirer of superior craftsmanship in weapons. I've always believed the bow to be the perfect implement of warfare, and that is an exceptional example. I bet you designed it yourself!"

The flattery seemed to be working its magic on the elf, though he still appeared uneasy. "Well, I may have had a hand in..."

"Of course, I knew it the moment I saw you. I told myself, 'Gemma, this elf is a master archer.' I wonder, would you mind terribly if I could just take a closer look at that marvellous device? Hold it, maybe, for just a moment?"

"Well..." Burrberry looked at Gemma, and then at the bow, and then back at Gemma again. "...I suppose it couldn't hurt for just a moment."

Don't! thought Coriander frantically, but it was too late; the bow was in Gemma's hands.

"Oh, what a beautiful weapon," she said, and then looked up past Burrberry's shoulder. "Hey, who's that elf standing behind you?"

Perhaps it was because Burrberry had just suffered through the most humiliating, trying, and bizarre day of his entire life. Maybe that's why he fell for it. He twisted around. "What, I don't see any--"

THWACK!!

"You lousy bum!"

THWACK!!

"Hit me over the head, will you?!"

THWACK!!

"Well, how do you like it?!"

THWACK!!

"Huh?!"

THWACK!!

"Gemma, stop it!" It took the combined efforts of Coriander and Priscilla to pull Gemma, still swinging the bow wildly, away from the now-cowering Burrberry. Cleo was rocking with laughter nearby.

"Ahahaha, an elf being duped into giving up his own bow!" she gasped, wiping away tears of mirth. "You're slipping, man! Hee!"

Burrberry picked himself up, blushing madly, strode over and snatched the bow from Gemma's hands. "I'll have you know, madam," he spluttered, his voice shaking with barely-suppressed rage, "that I am the chief of J'naeric Security."

She glared defiantly back at him. "And I'll have you know that I have no intention of going anywhere with you, so you might as well just kill me now and get it over with!"

"Maybe I'll take you up on your offer!"

Coriander buried his face in his hands once more. Oh, this was endless. If only there was some way he could get them to...

"Hey, cool it, Burrberry." It was Cleo's voice. Coriander looked up sharply, as did everyone else. The brown-haired elf was recovering from her laughing fit and now had a mild case of hiccups. "You deserved it. Besides, it'll do you good to *hic* get some of that hot air knocked out of your skull."

Coriander stared. "You mean you know him already, Cleo?"

Burrberry growled. "We went to school together. Inhabited slightly different social circles, though."

"You mean you had one and I didn't," she added. "But I learned enough about you anyway."

The taller elf grew pale. Well, paler. "What are you talking about?"

"This is getting old fast, Burrberry. It's going to be dark soon, I haven't had a decent meal or a full night's sleep in days, and I'd really like not to be hung up in that silly tree of yours again. Or would you rather I tell everyone your," she paused for suitable dramatic effect, "little secret?"

Burrberry was now white as a ghost. "You wouldn't dare!"

"Of course I would. In fact, I'd very much like to. And I'd like my bag back, if you don't mind."

"Urrgh." He glared at the shorter elf, who grinned and hiccuped again. Then he wearily pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine, fine," he acquiesced finally. "I'll drop the damn charges. For now," he added with menace.

"Good," replied Cleo, rubbing her hands together and smiling at the gaping faces of the others. "Now, is anyone else as hungry as I am?" A sudden chorus of rumbling stomachs responded, and everyone blushed a little, looking around sheepishly. "Good," the elf said again. "Let's get started."

---

Life was pretty funny, when you thought about it, though who was ultimately doing the laughing was anyone's guess. One minute you're living in a castle in the most powerful city in all the world, wearing all sorts of silly, frilly dresses, being waited on hand and foot by scores of servants, and generally living the life of, well, a princess. Next minute, you're lost in the woods with a bunch of bickering idiots who keep calling you 'Priscilla'. Kristelle snorted. What a stupid name. She had almost slipped back there. She had almost told that boy who she was. Stupid, stupid. It was really a lucky thing she had caught herself just in time. Lucky, Kristelle told herself. So why was she regretting it so much?

The heir to the throne of Niphti rolled onto her back and looked up at the stars, or at least where the stars would be if the trees weren't in the way. A little starlight would have been welcome in this darkness. A ways over to her right she could hear Coriander's loud snoring; he had, of course, insisted on taking first watch, and then he had, of course, been the first to nod off. That Burrberry was keeping the actual watch. He had stayed on with them after explaining that there was no way he'd be able to return to his people until he'd finished his job. Funny, though, he hadn't seemed very sorry about it. Kristelle frowned and stole a glance at the tall figure, whom she could barely make out in the darkness, leaning up against a tree. She wondered what his supposedly deep, dark secret was. It had to be major if that other elf, Colio or whatever her name was, had been able to blackmail him with it. Hmph. Elves. Biggest lot of insufferable know-it-alls in all the world. Well, maybe they didn't know everything... She grinned wickedly of the memory from earlier that evening.

"Sho yeah, we were jusht following theshe tracksh, trying to find you, when we bumped into Prishilla here," Coriander had managed to say with a mouth full of half-chewed quail (a quail that, Kristelle had to grudgingly admit, Burberry had taken down with quite a good shot).

Gemma had furrowed her brow. "What tracks? We were here in the cave the whole time."

Coriander noisily swallowed the mostly-masticated bird and pointed. "Over there. Burrberry said they were the only tracks you guys could have made, but Priscilla said we were following them the wrong way."

"Uh, Coriander, that's the way we came from last night. You know, after we escaped?"

The following silence had sounded more glorious to Kristelle than any heavenly choir. Heads had swiveled to face Burrberry, whose own face had turned beet-red. "You mean we really were going the wrong way?" Coriander had asked incredulously. "But you said you've been tracking people since before I was born!"

"Look," Burrberry began, his aura of discomfort nearly tangible, "it's not like you were born all that long ago..."

"You acted like you were some kind of expert!"

"Well, I'm certainly more of an expert than you are! I'd like to see you try to follow someone in this bloody forest!" Kristelle did her best to suppress a smug smirk from spreading across her features, and of course failed resoundingly. She began to hum a little tune under her breath. "And you can cut that out!" Burrberry had snapped, and stomped off muttering something about getting more firewood.

Heh heh. That would show him. To think, all this time he'd been pretending to be something that he wasn't. Just like you, a little voice on the edge of her thoughts whispered. Oh, shut up, she snapped back at it, it isn't the same at all. It wasn't! That stuck-up elf had been pretending to be something better than he was, while Kristelle felt that she was being what she was supposed to be, what she was always meant to be. Wasn't she?

Everyone had finished stuffing their faces. Gemma had finally dropped off to sleep, but not before she had made Coriander investigate the cave to make sure there weren't any more undead horrors lurking within. There weren't. Cleo had nodded off shortly after eating as much of the quail as she could manage, and was twitching occasionally. Burrberry was still off somewhere, supposedly collecting more firewood, though Kristelle suspected he was just sulking. She herself didn't feel much like sleeping yet, and gazed into the dying fire. "You all right?" came a voice from beside her. Kristelle jumped a little and turned to see Coriander, who for once wasn't mugging like an idiot or looking puzzled. He was watching her with an expression of genuine concern. It wasn't a look Kristelle was used to receiving. She had quickly turned back to watching the flames.

"I'm fine," was her curt reply. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just that you look so sad sometimes, when you think no one's looking."

Kristelle had felt her face grow hot. Did he always have to be so honest? "Well, I'm not," she stated firmly.

"Oh." Neither of them said anything for a time. Coriander drew little pictures in the dirt with his fingertip. Kristelle poked at the fire with a stick.

She didn't know what had made her say it. "D'you ever feel, you know, like you're in the wrong place?" she had asked tentatively. Why had she said it?

Coriander cocked his head to one side like a dog trying to understand his master's words. "What do you mean?"

"Like..." She searched for the right words, which were being annoyingly elusive. "Like, you don't belong. Like you shouldn't be where you are, even if, say, a whole kingdom thinks you should. Like you're in the wrong skin!"

Coriander seemed to think about this for a moment. "Welll..." he had ventured finally, "I don't know if I've felt exactly like that before, but I do know there's something I've always wanted to do, ever since I first learned how to read."

"What? What is it?"

That great big grin had appeared again. "This!" he'd said, gesturing around them. "Questing! I've always wanted to go on a quest, just like the heroes you always hear about in the stories. I remember there was this really nice old lady who used to live a little ways away from our farm, she'd shown up not long after my parents found me, and--"

"Found you?" Kristelle had interrupted. "You mean you're adopted?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I was. Anyway, she gave me this book that--"

She had gripped his arm in her excitement; he winced a little. "Then you must understand how I feel! Didn't you ever feel like you were, well, different from the rest of your family?"

He'd looked puzzled at this. "Why should I have? My mother and father are my mother and father. The only thing I can say for being adopted is," he'd added with that ever-persistent smile of his, "that I must be the luckiest boy in all the world, to have been found by parents like mine."

She'd sighed heavily. "You are lucky to have such conviction. It's tough going through life not knowing who you are."

"What's there to know? Just be yourself!"

Puh. 'Be yourself', indeed. That was a reassuring message from a boy who didn't know which way was up most of the time. Sure, Coriander was nice enough in his own right. Oh, all right, and supportive. And loyal. And super-confident, perseverant, even a little handsome, if you liked the bean-pole look... Kristelle's eyes snapped open in shock. Where had that thought come from?! That's it she told herself firmly. Coriander's trouble. He'll only cause me trouble. I can't let this charade go on any longer. I have to get out of here now! Minutes passed. All right, I have to go now. The forest creaked. Crickets chirped. An unidentifiable creature roared in the distance. Okaay, any minute now... Tell him. What?! Tell him. Go on. You want to be yourself, don't you? Well, start being yourself. Okay, first of all? Shut up. You're just my brain. Second, I can't. He's probably out to rescue me or some nonsense like that. As soon as I tell him, little coins will flash in his eyes and he'll try to take my back to Niphti. And then I'll have to hurt him, and I don't really have the time for that. You know that isn't true. Shut up shut up shut up! The best move would be to get out of here before everyone wakes up. I can't stay! I'd have to go back to being frilly little Princess Kristelle if I did! Fine, suit yourself. Take off and live like that kid in The Forest Tome. Just don't say I didn't warn you. Fine. Fine. Fine, Kristelle added, determined to get the last word even in an argument with herself. Now to ditch this gaggle of morons and regain freedom. If only her feet would get the message... Her brow furrowed as a trickle of doubt leaked into the raging torrent of her mind. I wonder, though... Should I really? What did I just tell you? Shut up.
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Thracia Alba



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Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 12:28 am    Post subject:  



Thank you guys for waiting so patiently as I took over a month to get chapter seven written! I know it's 604 lines long, but I swear I won't let them get any longer than this. Promise! In fact, the next one will probably be significantly shorter (that's right, just keep telling yourself that...).

Anyway, thanks a million. :D
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Shady Stoat



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Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 1:44 am    Post subject:  

*giggles* Boredly. I can't imagine where that line of conversation came from. Another great chapter, Thracia :D

Now. 'Just be yourself'. That really does cover a multitude of inanities.

What it usually means, with people like the Princess, is, 'let your guard down, say something you really regret, agonise about it for a few hours, and then run away'.

Yeah, I think that sounds like a plan :D
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Thracia Alba



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Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 1:58 am    Post subject:  

Quote: Now. 'Just be yourself'. That really does cover a multitude of inanities.

Heh, guess I just couldn't help myself there. I have this friend who's always complaining that she doesn't know who she is. I find this extremely annoying. Finally, one day, I shouted, "Just be yourself!" I think it ticked her off, though.

Quote: What it usually means, with people like the Princess, is, 'let your guard down, say something you really regret, agonise about it for a few hours, and then run away'.

Now that does sound like my friend. :shock:
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Shady Stoat



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Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 2:04 am    Post subject:  

*grins* Glad to know I'm on the mark :P
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Mother Goose



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Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 6:07 am    Post subject:  

Don't apologize - the longer the better, say I! I didn't want the chapter to end.
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LordoftheNight



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Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 3:05 pm    Post subject:  

I particularily liked this line
Quote: "But you said you've been tracking people since before I was born!"

"Look," Burrberry began, his aura of discomfort nearly tangible, "it's not like you were born all that long ago..."

It cracked me up.
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Argonaut



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Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 6:22 pm    Post subject:  

Quote: But Coriander was grinning like a science fiction fanatic who's found William Shatner's wallet at a Babylon 5 convention after having been offered a walk-on role in Star Wars Episode VII: No, We're Never Going to Stop Milking This Cow for What it's Worth, No Matter How Much We Ruin the Story.
Haha, now that is one heck of a simile! Great chapter Thracia, well worth the wait.

Let's see how can she "be herself"? Unless I'm terribly mistaken, if she were to really be herself, she'd be a man. :) But since she dosn't know that I think she's heading for that grey area where she keeps telling herself she's leaving but finds a way to sabotage herself. She gets caught sneaking away, makes a lame excuse, gets angry with herself. Basicly keeps going back and forth untill she realizes it's too late, she's already stayed with them for the entire quest :)
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Thracia Alba



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Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 7:49 pm    Post subject:  

Argonaut wrote:

Let's see how can she "be herself"? Unless I'm terribly mistaken, if she were to really be herself, she'd be a man. :)

I sure hope there's no TGFSE version of Singapore. :shock:
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The Powers That Be



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Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 7:52 pm    Post subject:  

Wow. That was 6500 words of unadulterated funny. :tu2: :clap:

I think Argo and Shady are on the right track. All that comes to mind for me are hoary sitcom scenarios where she says, "I've got something really important to tell you..." and then chickens out with "there's a giant spider hanging two inches from your left ear" or somesuch. I'll try to come up with something better, but I haven't yet...
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Key



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Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 9:56 pm    Post subject:  

Don't leave. But don't tell him who you really are either.

Maybe you should start wondering why Coriander's hanging around with those other women. What does he see in them anyway?
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Thracia Alba



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Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 10:26 pm    Post subject:  

Yeah, the hussies. ;)
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Smee



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Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2006 11:00 pm    Post subject:  

:lol: So many funnies - all those already pointed out any more. :D

I'm not generally good at such illogical decision making, so I'm convinced we'll see what Argo pointed out...

Quote: She gets caught sneaking away, makes a lame excuse, gets angry with herself. Basicly keeps going back and forth untill she realizes it's too late, she's already stayed with them for the entire quest

...along with a healthy dose of Key's idea and of course plenty of the Stoatly suggested agonising.

Princesses - crazy breed ;)
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Birdie2006
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Posted: Tue Jun 20, 2006 7:47 am    Post subject:  

I really like this story....awesome!

EDIT:

oh and uh....pls dont stalk me... *bows to you* lol
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Solomon Birch
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Posted: Wed Jun 21, 2006 1:36 am    Post subject:  

Phew! Quite a morning wake up for me (yes, at the moment 'morning' is 10.30 ;) ), but it was totally worth it. I've pined for a TGFSE chappie for ages! :biggrin:

Now, though I am technically awake, my brain is still snoring on my pillow, and as the previous comments have been so good, for now, at least, I'll chuck my lot in with them.

*holds breath* :shock:
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OldJoe
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Posted: Fri Jun 23, 2006 8:34 pm    Post subject:  

Finally another chapter Miss Alba. Ah do look forad to a good read when yer post.

That said, ah can't add to them there suggestions as been already said, so ah will just sit and wait fer the next stage.
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Thracia Alba
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Posted: Sun Jun 25, 2006 10:14 pm    Post subject:  

All right. Since I'm FINALLY back, and after looking over the suggestions so far, I'm thinking that I might just skip the poll and write the next chapter. The reason for this is that the suggestions all seem pretty similar, with only a few slight differences. However, if you guys think I'm being stupid (and I certainly wouldn't blame you if you did), I'll put up a poll. Just let me know what you think.
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Chinaren
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Posted: Sun Jun 25, 2006 10:30 pm    Post subject:  

Well, if I know women at all*, she will turn it around and put Corry on the spot for some totally illogical** reason, making him feel bad and distracting everyone from the general plot.

Great chapter Alby!


*Which of course I don't. No man does.
**From a male point of view.
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Thracia Alba
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Posted: Sun Jun 25, 2006 10:47 pm    Post subject:  

Oh, what the hell. I've always been a traditionalist at heart, so up the poll goes! :D
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Shady Stoat
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Posted: Mon Jun 26, 2006 1:03 am    Post subject:  

You just had to put that last option in, didn't you? A veritable haven for the undecided. I voted that way, of course :D
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LordoftheNight
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Posted: Mon Jun 26, 2006 5:19 am    Post subject:  

I had to go for the last option as well - saves choosing. Voted, and winning.
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The Powers That Be
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Posted: Mon Jun 26, 2006 5:49 am    Post subject:  

Yeah, I went for the last one as well, more as a challenge to the author than anything else. :D
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Shady Stoat
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Posted: Mon Jun 26, 2006 5:58 am    Post subject:  

It still doesn't look like you've voted, Powers.

And you might want to update your profile, re Abduction? :D
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The Powers That Be
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Posted: Mon Jun 26, 2006 6:27 am    Post subject:  

Shady Stoat wrote: It still doesn't look like you've voted, Powers.

Ah yes, well, that was intended as, um, a dramatic pause. And thank you for ruining it!

Shady Stoat wrote: And you might want to update your profile, re Abduction? :D

Yes, Mom.

:shock:

*runs and hides in the linen closet*
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Shady Stoat
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Posted: Mon Jun 26, 2006 6:33 am    Post subject:  

Wow! I'm scary stoat. *looks proud* ;)
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Argonaut
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Posted: Mon Jun 26, 2006 8:37 am    Post subject:  

Oh Thracia, how can I resist an "all of the above". My favorite answer on any multiple choice question ( I never did too well on tests for some reason ). I think you'd better start writing now if you want to get all those options in. :)

...If this was a movie you could just do a montage... hmm, now how would one write a montage?...
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Solomon Birch
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Posted: Mon Jun 26, 2006 11:24 am    Post subject:  

Heck, it'd be funny to have all of the above. More fun for all! Except Thrace! *devilish grin* :-D

Well, she might enjoy the finshed result. But probably not the writing bit. It's her own fault for putting it up! Muwhahahah! :biggrin:

*holds breath* :shock:
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Starwalker
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Posted: Mon Jun 26, 2006 12:03 pm    Post subject:  

Just 1 question .... Does she even know how to be herself?
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Thracia Alba
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Posted: Mon Jun 26, 2006 3:04 pm    Post subject:  

Well, that's the problem. Y'see, it seems that many teenagers go through some identity crisis thing at some point. I never did, but most of my friends did (and some still are, sadly enough). I guess she's just going to have to figure things out by process of trial and error (lots of hilarious error!).
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Ravenwing
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Posted: Mon Jun 26, 2006 4:45 pm    Post subject:  

LOL. Loved this chapter. Especially that last bit with Kristelle arguing with herself. Nice touch with the Star Wars reference.

And since known of these suggestions seem to work the best over the others by themselves, I am going for the all-inclusive last choice. :D
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Thracia Alba
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Posted: Tue Jun 27, 2006 12:43 am    Post subject:  

Ahaha! Ten votes for the last option! I really did myself in there, didn't I? Oh well, at least there won't likely be any of that infernal switching-at-the-last-minute business. :?
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Solomon Birch
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Posted: Tue Jun 27, 2006 4:25 am    Post subject:  

Yep, twas well intentioned, but came back and bit you on the..... nose? ;)

Looking forward to what looks like it's going to be a rather mental chapter. :biggrin:

*holds breath* :shock:
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Ravenwing
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Posted: Tue Jun 27, 2006 8:48 am    Post subject:  

Of course we already knew Alba was mental already, so I don't think this chapter will be that much of a problem. I do think we readers are to be expecting a really long Chapter 8. LOL. :D
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Thracia Alba
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Posted: Tue Jun 27, 2006 8:38 pm    Post subject:  

Hey, I'm not mental! The penguins told me so! :?
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Stubby
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Posted: Sat Jul 08, 2006 11:42 am    Post subject:  

Argonaut wrote: Let's see how can she "be herself"? Unless I'm terribly mistaken, if she were to really be herself, she'd be a man. :)

Hmmm, that was one of my first thoughts when I started reading this tale way back when, but.... now I'm not so sure.... I have an inkling of an idea, but..... *grin*

Oh, and sorry it took me so long to catch up the chapter :(
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Chinaren
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Posted: Sat Jul 08, 2006 3:21 pm    Post subject:  

This vote is looking too close to call! ;)
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Thracia Alba
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Posted: Sun Jul 09, 2006 11:04 pm    Post subject:  

Stubby, shhhhh! *glances around furtively*

You know, I thought having to write all those options was going to be one hellish mess, but they actually seem to be flowing together quite easily. I can't say that the chapter will be up very soon as there have been many demands on my time lately, but writing in the result of the poll has not proven very difficult so far.
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JezSharp
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Posted: Thu Jul 27, 2006 4:04 am    Post subject:  

Sounds interesting, can't wait to see how all the options are going to be fitted together in the next chapter :) . This sg is definately one of the funniest I've read - :) , love some of the inventions...e.g the tollbooth elf :D .
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solus.serpen
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Posted: Thu Jul 27, 2006 5:37 am    Post subject:  

voted for the last one, not that it made much difference :) .
looking forward to the next chapter, Alba. :D
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Geek_girl72
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Posted: Sat Jul 29, 2006 8:43 am    Post subject:  

Voted for all of them! I'm glad I caught up with this one, I've never laughed so hard, can't wait for chapter 8!

I especially like your chapter titles : )
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