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In reply to: The Jorid’s Travels – 14 years on
Georges had always thought going out into space with the spacesuits generated by Jorid was an exhilarating experience. The tight fitting suit and gloves were full of sensors that could transmit different kind of sensory informations to the brain. Pressure, temperature and the fluctuations of the Boodenbaum surface field. It was a lot like feeling the surface tension of water and moving in space with these suits was as easy as swimming in a warm ocean.
The light of the star gave Georges’ white suit a green hue. There was no doubt they were back in the Alienor system after 14 years. The Jorid was currently orbiting Duane, not very far from there, Georges could see the twin planet, Murtuane. But no sign of Phrëal anywhere. His helmet speakers started playing “In the Hall of the Mountain King” by Edvard Grieg.
“Jorid,” said Georges, “what are you doing?”
“I thought it was fitting for such a grandiose moment, Georges. The sensory information about your body tells me you’re filled with nostalgia and awe at the sight of your home planet.”
“It’s not my… forget it. What am I looking for?”
“Likely a small creature, the size of a rodent from Earth. I can fell it run about the greenhouse where Salomé is taking care of her sweet pea plants from planet Attalyi. It seems to have developed an interest in her activities.”
Georges glided over the curved hull toward the giant window Jorid had manifested for Salomé’s little experiments. She wanted to grow alien vegetation in an intersticial environment kept in stasis in between dimensions to spice up the dishes from the replicator. He hid behind one of Jorid’s spherical gravitational wave sensor.
“I can see the creature. Is Salomé aware it’s spying on her?”
“Negative. She required not being disturbed during her experiments.”
Georges pushed a button on his wrist keyboard. Beethoven’s fifth symphony started playing. Georges pushed the same button again. The track changed to Mozart’s “Little Night” music.
“Jorid, the wristboard is malfunctioning. Can you stop the music and activate the cloaking shield for me ?”
“Negative. The creature is creating of interferences.”
“How? Wow!? What the …”
A creature the size of a marmoset had landed on Georges helmet and was licking the glass, using its gecko fingers to stick it. An image formed into Georges mind : Salomé stroking the creature in the green house and calling it Sand’Rin.
“I think she likes you,” said Jorid.
In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
Youssef had brought his black obsidian with him in the kitchen at breakfast. Idle—Youssef had realised that on top of being her way of life, it was also her name—was preparing a herbal brownie under the supervision of a colourful parrot perched on her shoulder.
“If you’re interested in rocks, you should go to Betsy’s. She’s got that ‘Gems & Minerals’ shop on Main street. She opened it with her hubby a few years back. Before he died.”
“Nutty Betsy, Pretty Girl likes her better,” said the parrot.
Idle looked at his backpack and his clothes.
“You seem the wandering type, lad. I was like you when I was younger, always gallivanting here, there, and everywhere with my brother. Now, I prefer wandering in my mind, if you know what I mean,” she said licking her finger full of chocolate. “Anyway, an advice. Don’t go down the mines alone. Betsy’s hubby’s still down there after one of the tunnels collapsed a few years back. She’s not been quite herself ever since.”
Main street was —well— the only street in town. They’ve been preparing for some kind of festival, putting banners on top of the shops and in between two trees near the gas station. Youssef stopped there to buy snacks that he stacked on top of the obsidian stone in his backpack. The young boy who worked there, Devan, seemed quite excited at the perspective of the Lager and Cart Race. It happened only every ten years and last time he was too young to participate.
The shop had not been difficult to find, at the other end of the street. A tiny sign covered in purple star sequins indicated “Betsy’s Gems & Minerals — We deliver worldwide”. He felt with his hand the black rock he had put in his backpack. If Idle had not mentioned the mines and the dead husband, Youssef might have reconsidered going in. But the coincidence with his dream and the game was too intriguing. He entered.
The shop was a mess. Crates full of stones, cardboard boxes and bubble wrappings. In the back, a plump woman, working on a giant starfish she held on her lap, was humming as she listened to loud rock music. Youssef recognised a song from the Last Shadow Puppets’ second album : The Element of Surprise. Apparently, the woman hadn’t heard him enter. She wore a dress and a hat sprinkled with golden stars, and her wrists were hidden under a ton of stone bracelets. The music track changed. The woman started shaking her head following the rhythm of the tune. She was gluing small red stones, she picked in a little box, on one of the starfish arms.“Bad Habits! Uhu. Bad Habits! Uhu.”
Youssef moved closer. His shadow covered the starfish. The woman raised her head and screamed, scattering the red stones in her workshop. The starfish fell from her lap onto the ground with a thud.
“Oh! My! Little devil. Look at what you made me do. I lost my marbles,” she said with a high pitched laugh. “Your mother never taught you? That’s bad habit to creep up on people like that. You scared the sheep out of me!”
“I’m so sorry,” said Youssef, getting on his knees to help her gather the stones.
When they were all back in their box, Youssef got back on his feet. The woman looked a him with a softened face.
“You such a cutie with your bear shirt. You make me think of my Howard. He was as tall as you are. I’m Betsy, obviously” she said with a giggle, extending her hand to him.
They shook hands, making the pearls of her bracelets clink together.
“I’m Youssef.”
Youssef didn’t need to insist too much. Betsy was a real juke box of gossips. He just had to ask one question from time to time, and she would get going again. He was starting to feel his quirk could be more than a curse after all.
“When the tunnel collapsed,” Betsy said, “I was ready to give up the stone shop. The pain was too much to bear, everything in the shop reminded me of Howard. And in a miners’ town, who would want to buy stones anyway. We’ve been in bad terms with Idle and her family for some time, but that tragic incident coincided with her brother Fred’s disappearance. They thought at first Fred had died in the mines with Howard, because they spent so much time discussing together in Room 8 at the Inn. I overheard them once, talking about something they found in the mines. But Howard never told me, he was so secretive about that. We even had a fight, you know. But Fred, the children found some message later that suggested he had just left the family. Imagine, the children! Idle was pissed with him of course. Abandoning her with that mother of theirs and that money pit of an Inn and the rest of the family. And I needed company. So we started to get together on a regular basis. She would bring her special cakes, and we would complain about our lives. At some point she got involved with that shamanic stuff she found online, and she helped me find my totem Bear. It was quite a revelation. Bear suggested I diversify and open an online shop and start making orgonites. I love those little gummy bears so much. So, I followed Bear’s advice and it has been working like a charm ever since. That’s why I trusted you straight away, lad. Not ’cause of your cute face. You got the Bear in your heart,” she said putting her finger at the center of his chest.
My inner Bear, of course, thought Youssef. That’s the magnet. His phone buzzed. He took it out and saw he had an alert from the game and a message from his friends.
You found the source of your quirk, the magnetic pull that attracts talkative people to you.
Now obtain the silver key in the shape of a tongue to fulfil your quest.Zara : Where are you!?
We’re at the bar, getting parched! They got Pale Ale!“I have to go,” said Youssef.
“Wait,” said Betsy.
She foraged through her orgonite collection and handed Youssef one little gummy bear and an ornate metal badge.
“Bear wants me to give this to you. Howard made it. He said it was his forked tongue key.”
She looked at him, emotion in her eyes.
“I know you won’t listen if I tell you not to. So, be careful when you go into the mines.”
In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
“Imagine that! a Big Banana…”
After a brisk walk trying to catch up with his winged psittacine friend, Xavier had stumbled on a large concrete sculpture painted bright yellow in the middle of a field.
He’s read somewhere Australia was known for its fondness of “big things”, but he didn’t expect one here – it was quite fun.“I think you just made my day Pretty Girl” he said to the bird. “Not that I don’t like to venture more, but I get the feeling I have to come back.” He checked his phone, there were a few messages, including one from Youssef who’d found some surprisingly interesting stuff during his shopping visit.
“We wouldn’t want to be caught off-guard by a bunyip, you know…” he said more to himself than to anyone in particular.
“Suuuit yourself.” said the bright red parrot, “No need to fear bunyip. Just don’t follow Min min lights. And stay away from mines.” and it flew away in a different direction.
In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
Despite the old man’s endless flow of words, Youssef couldn’t get him to explain what he meant about the abandoned mine and why the town’s people didn’t like people sneaking around and asking questions.
Not wanting to waste more time, Youssef walked to the brick building where the twins had disappeared. It was crammed between the telegraph station and a grocery store. The door had been walled with red bricks. They were covered in faded graffitis and layers of torn-up posters. It seemed obvious the wall had been there for quite some time already.
The old man was sticking to Youssef like glue, talking about that time when his now dead brother took in an old cat he called Phineas. Youssef tried to growl him away, but the man always came back, persistent as a cloud of mosquitoes over the promise of a blood feast.
Youssef tried not to pay attention to him. What did AL said about that quest ? Go ask questions around to town’s people about odd things happening ? Well there were plenty of those things happening. Maybe the clerk at the telegraph station would know something, especially how to get rid of that old man.
Youssef pushed the door and entered the telegraph station, leaving the old man outside. The interior was lit with a collection of old style tungsten lamps hanging in a random pattern from the ceiling.
The clerk was busy sorting out a pile of telegrams. Clickety-clack. Clickety-clack. He lifted his head up. The noise stopped and Youssef realised the young man had mechanical hands.“Welcome, welcome, welcome! What can I do for you today, my friend?” asked the clerk.
“I just wanted to…” started Youssef.
“Wait! Don’t tell me. I’m a bit of a psychic myself and I already know what you’re here for.”
“Really?”
The man foraged through his pile of telegram with his mechanical hands and picked one. He looked at it for a few seconds.
“My friend, you’re in luck today!” he said, looking intently at Youssef. “I just received this telegram that I think might interest you. Here, take a look!”
Youssef took the paper and started to read aloud : “Words spoken by the talkative will unlock the path. Seek those who chatter and unravel the clue. What the…?”
“Interesting, isn’t it? That’s a real head-scratcher, if you ask me!”
The door bell rang and the old man entered, holding his sore ribs.
“Get out, Phineas. You’re not welcome here.” said the clerk with a frown.
The old man looked at the clerk with an air of confusion before turning to Youssef. “What did he say? Who’s Phineas?” he asked.
Ignoring the question, Youssef tried to steer the conversation back to the telegram. “What does this mean?” he asked the clerk.
The clerk stroked his chin, looking thoughtful. “Hmm, well, it seems to me that you have a certain magnetism for talkative people. Perhaps that’s the key to unlocking this riddle.”
Youssef’s eyes widened in surprise. “What do you mean, magnetism?”
The old man interjected, “For sure! You’re like a magnet, my boy. I can’t seem to stop talking when I’m around you.”
Youssef rolled his eyes. “So, what do I do? Just wander around town and wait for someone to start talking?”
The clerk nodded. “That could be a good start. But if you’re looking for something specific, you might want to try Betsy when you wake up. She’s got a boutique of Gems and Rocks. You seem to like them rocks,” he said pointing at the black obsidian. “Found it in a mine?”
The old man’s eyes lit up. “Ah, the old mine! I’ve been there before, you know. My brother used to work there before he died. Strange things happening there.”
Youssef’s interest was piqued. “What kind of strange things?”
The old man leaned in conspiratorially. “There’s a magnetar hidden in that mine, my boy.”
“Shut up! Phineas,” interrupted the clerk. “If you want my advice, stranger, don’t go near the old mine. ‘Curiosity killed the cat’ if you know what I mean.”
The telegraph receiver started to make clicketing sounds. The clerk read it and looked at Youssef.
“You’ve got a message man. Time to wake up.”
“Wake up?”
Youssef opened his eyes and looked at a black mass in front of his eyes. He had been sleeping with the stone just beside his head on the pillow. No wonder he had had weird dreams. He heard his phone buzz. He sat up reluctantly and looked at his phone. 8am. A notification that his game progression had been saved and several messages from Miss Tartiflate, the last one saying :
Don’t think you can dodge work. I’m still expecting the last blog post you’ve been paid to write!!!”
He groaned as reality was starting to catch up.
In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
Two young women, identical to the purple lock of hair hiding their left eye, entered the room. They moved as one person to the table, balancing their arms and bouncing on the floor like little girls. Youssef couldn’t help a shiver as he remembered The Shining.
“We are the twins,” they said, looking at him from behind their purple lock of hair. “Don’t mind us.”
One spoke a few milliseconds after the other, giving their combined voice an otherworldly touch that wasn’t reassuring. One took the sheets of paper from under the obsidian stone and the other the notebooks. After an hesitation they left the stone on the table and went back to the door.
“Wait,” said Youssef as they were about to leave, “What was on that paper? It looked like a map.”
“We leave you the stone,” they said without looking at him. “You might need it.”
As they shut the door, Youssef jumped out of his bed and tried to catch up with them. People couldn’t just enter his room like that. But when he flung the door open, the corridor was empty. He had the impression echoes of a combined laugh remained in the air and, tired as he was, decided not to look for them. Better not break the veil between dream and reality.
Intrigued by what the girls said, he took the black stone from the table and the last snicker bar from his backpack. He noted he would have to go to the grocery store tomorrow to buy some. Once he was back on his bed, he engulfed the snack and, while chewing, turned the stone around, trying to figure out what the girls meant by “You might need it”. The stone was cold to the touch and his reflection kept changing but nothing particular happened. Disappointed, he put the stone on his pillow and resumed the game on his phone.
Youssef finds himself in a small ghost town in what looks like the middle of the Australian outback. He’s standing in the town square, surrounded by an old post office, a saloon, and a few other ramshackle buildings.
He had a hard time focusing on the game. He started to feel the fatigue from the day. He yawned and started to doze off.
Youssef is standing in the town square, surrounded by an old post office, a saloon, and a few other ramshackle buildings. Scraps of mist are floating towards him. A ghostly laugh resounds from behind. He turns swiftly only to see a flash of purple disappear in a dark alleyway. He starts to run to catch them but a man, thrown out of the saloon, stumbles in front of him and they roll together on the dust.
“It’s not that I don’t like you,” said the man, “but you’re heavy.”
Youssef rolls on the side, mumbling some excuses and looks at where the twins had disappeared but the alleyway was gone.
“I think you broke one of my rib with your stone,” says the man, feeling his chest.
He looks as old as the town itself and quite harmless in his clothes, too big for him.
“What stone?” asks Youssef.
The old man points at a fragment of black obsidian between them on the ground.
“Don’t show them,” he says, “or they’ll take it from you.”
“What did you do?”
“They don’t like it when you ask questions about the old mines.”
In reply to: The Jorid’s Travels – 14 years on
(TOC)
Chapter 2: A New Companion
Salomé: The vibrations look familiar.
Georges: Have we arrived, Jorid?
Jorid: Indeed Georges, we are nearing our destination. Salomé is correct in her interpretation, we are getting close to the planet you know as Duane, soon we will be close to the Luminjel temple location.
Georges: Really? It looks… different.
Jorid: This is again correct, we are at an earlier time than the one you knew. In fact, much earlier.
Salomé (turning to Georges): She seems to have taken your “back to the origins” prompt to the letter; Jorid, how far back are we?
Jorid: It seems it is not exactly as was intended. It is millenia before the Guardians arrived to the planetary system. Asari civilisation was permeating this system but it appears currently on the decline — accessing… — you may find local contact by the name of Andrimiñ. Their technology may assist in healing the case of knowledge poisoning.
Georges: Wait, what do you mean, not as intended?
Jorid: A creature seems to have attached itself to my hull, creating fluctuations in my directional array.
Georges: What now? Can you shake it off?
Jorid: It is not advisable. Suggesting manual investigation as the creature appears to be small and generally harmless.
Georges: Well, what can go wrong? Let me get my suit and I will go check it out.
In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
When Xavier woke up, the sun was already shining, its rays darting in pulsating waves throughout the land, blinding him. The room was already heating up, making the air difficult to breathe.
He’d heard the maid rummaging in the neighbouring rooms for some time now, which had roused him from sleep. He couldn’t recall seeing any “DO NOT DISTURB” sign on the doorknob, so staying in bed was only delaying the inevitable barging in of the lady who was now vacuuming vigorously in the corridor.
Feeling a bit dull from the restless sleep, he quickly rose from the bed and put on his clothes.
Once out of his room, he smiled at the cleaning lady (who seemed to be the same as the cooking lady), who harumphed back as a sort of greeting. Arriving in the kitchen, he wondered whether it was probably too late for breakfast —until he noticed the figure of the owner, who was quietly watching him through half-closed eyes in her rocking chair.
“Idle should have left some bread, butter and jam to eat if you’re hungry. It’s too late for bacon and sausages. You can help yourself with tea or coffee, there’s a fresh pot on the kitchen counter.”
“Thanks M’am.” He answered, startled by the unexpected appearance.
“No need. Finly didn’t wake you up, did she? She doesn’t like when people mess up her schedule.”
“Not at all, it was fine.” he lied politely, helping himself to some tea. He wasn’t sure buttered bread was enough reward to suffer a long, awkward conversation, given that the lady (Mater, she insisted he’s called him) wasn’t giving him any sign of wanting to leave.
“It shouldn’t be long until your friends come back from the airport. Your other friend, the big lad, he went for a walk around. Idle seems to have sold him a visit to our Gems & Rocks boutique down Main avenue.” She tittered. “Sounds grand when we say it —that’s just the only main road, but it helps with tourists bookings. And Betsy will probably tire him down quickly. She tends to get too excited when she gets clients down there; most of her business she does online now.”
Xavier was done with his tea, and looking for an exit strategy, but she finally seemed to pick up on the signals.
“… As I probably do; look at me wearing you down. Anyway, we have some preparing to do for the Carts & whatnot festival.”
When she was gone, Xavier’s attention was attracted by a small persistent ticking noise followed by some cracking.
It was on the front porch.
A young girl in her thirteens, hoodie on despite the heat, and prune coloured pants, was sitting on the bench reading.
She told him without raising her head from her book. “It’s Aunt Idle’s new pet bird. It’s quite a character.”
“What?”
“The noise, it’s from the bird. It’s been cracking nuts for the past twenty minutes. Hence the noise. And yes, it’s annoying as hell.”
She rose from the bench. “Your bear friend will be back quick I’m certain; it’s just a small boutique with some nice crystals, but mostly cheap orgonite new-agey stuff. Betsy only swears by that, protection for electromagnetic waves and stuff she says, but look around… we are probably got more at risk to be hit by Martian waves or solar coronal mass ejections that by the ones from the telecom tower nearby.”
Xavier didn’t know what to say, so he nodded and smiled. He felt a bit out of his element. When he looked around, the girl had already disappeared.
Now alone, he sat on the empty bench, stretched and yawned while trying to relax. It was so different from the anonymity in the city: less people here, but everything and everyone very tightly knit together, although they all seemed to irk and chafe at the thought.
The flapping of wings startled him.
“Hellooo.” The red parrot had landed on the backrest of the bench and dropped shells from a freshly cracked nut which rolled onto the ground.
Xavier didn’t think to respond; like with AL, sometimes he’d found using polite filler words was only projecting human traits to something unable to respond back, and would just muddle the prompt quality.
“So ruuuude.” The parrot nicked his earlobe gently.
“Ouch! Sorry! No need to become aggressive!”
“You arrrre one to talk. Rouge is on Yooour forehead.”
Xavier looked surprised at the bird in disbelief. Did the bird talk about the mirror test? “What sort of smart creature are you now?”
“Call meee Rose. Pretty Giiirl acceptable.”
Xavier smiled. The bird seemed quite fascinating all of a sudden.
It was strange, but the bird seemed left completely free to roam about; it gave him an idea.“Rose, Pretty Girl, do you know some nice places around you’d like to show me?”
“Of couuurse. Foôllow Pretty Girl.”
In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
The road was stretching endlessly and monotonously, a straight line disappearing into a nothingness of dry landscapes that reminded Youssef of the Gobi desert where he had been driving not too long ago. At regular speed, the car barely seemed to progress.
> O Time suspend thy flight!
Eternity. Something only nature could procure him. He loved the feeling, and compared to the more usual sand of Gobi, the red sands of Australia gave him the impression he had shifted into another reality. That and the fifteen hours flight listening to Gladys made it difficult to respond to Xavier’s loquacious self and funny jokes. After some time, his friend stopped talking and tried catching some signal to play the Game, brandishing his phone in different directions as if he was hunting ghosts with a strange device.
It reminded him he had to accept his next quest in a ghost town. That’s all he remembered. He could do that at the Inn, when they could rest in their rooms.
Youssef wondered if the welcome sign at the entrance of the town had seen better days. The wood the fish was made of seemed eaten by termites, but someone had painted it with silver and blue to give it a fresher look. Youssef snorted at the shocked expression on his friend’s face.
“It looked like it died of boredom. Let’s just hope the Innside doesn’t look like a gutted fish,” Xavier said.
An old lady showed them their rooms. She didn’t seem the talkative type, which made Youssef love her immediately with her sharp tongue and red cardigan. He rather admired her braided silver hair as it reminded him of his mother who would let him brush her hair when they lived in Norway. It was in another reality. He smiled. She saw him looking at her and her eyes narrowed like a pair of arrowslits. She seemed ready to fire. Instead she kept on ranting about an idle person not doing her only job properly. They each went to their rooms, Xavier took number 7 and Youssef picked number 5, his lucky number.
He was glad to be able to enjoy his own room after the trip of the last few weeks. It had been for work, so it was different. But usually he liked travelling the world on his own and meet people on his way and learn from their stories. Traveling with people always meant some compromise that would always frustrate him because he wanted to go faster, or explore more tricky paths.
The room was nicely decorated, and the scent of fresh paint made it clear it was recent. A strange black stone, which Youssef recognized as a black obsidian, has been put on a pile of paper full of doodles, beside two notebooks and pencils. The notebooks’ pages were blank, he thought of giving them to Xavier. He took the stone. It was cold to the touch and his reflection on the surface looked back at him, all wavy. The doodles on the paper looked like a map and hard to read annotations. One stood out, though which looked like a wifi password. That made him think of the Game. He entered it on his phone and that was it. Maybe it was time to go back in. But he wanted to take a shower first.
He put his backpack and his bag on the bed and unpacked it. Amongst a pile of dirty clothes, he managed to find a t-shirt that didn’t smell too bad and a pair of shorts. He would have to use the laundry service of the hotel.
He had missed hot showers. Once refreshed, he moved his bags on the floor and jumped on his bed and launched the Game.
Youssef finds himself in a small ghost town in what looks like the middle of the Australian outback. The town was once thriving but now only a few stragglers remain, living in old, decrepit buildings. He’s standing in the town square, surrounded by an old post office, a saloon, and a few other ramshackle buildings.A message appeared on the screen.
Quest: Your task is to find the source of the magnetic pull that attracts talkative people to you. You must find the reason behind it and break the spell, so you can continue your journey in peace.
Youssef started to move his avatar towards the saloon when someone knocked on the door.
In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
When Sergio dropped her back at the Flying Fish Inn it was later than Zara realized. The verandah and reception lights were on but everyone had gone to bed, everyone except Idle who was poring over a pile of old notebooks at a dining room table. “Good day out?” she looked up over the top of her reading glasses and smiled at Zara.
Zara returned the smile. “It was great, thanks! I’d love one”, she added when Idle asked her if she fancied a glass of wine.
“Grab a glass off the sideboard there and come and sit down,” Idle said. “Are you hungry or did you grab a bite in Alice?”
“Yeah, I did, thanks,” replied Zara, trying hard not to pull a face at the first sip of the Australian wine. “Nice label,” she said, “Yellow Trail. I should be used to seeing kangaroos on wine bottles by now” she laughed.
“A place called Monte’s Lounge,” she replied when Idle asked where she’d eaten, “A cabaret meets circus theme, not what I was expecting out here. I met a guy on the trail…”
“The plot thickens,” Idle grinned, “Comedy and romance.”
Zara laughed, warming to her genial host. Accepting a second glass of wine, she told Idle all about Sergio. He was a Spanish archaeologist who had come over to see his daughter in Townsville on the east coast, and had booked a few side trips to see some of the indigenous rock art. When Zara walked off the trail after she found the compass (and the damn parrot vanished, leaving her alone) she had found herself in a small clearing with high rocky sides. Sergio had his back to her and was photographing the rock wall.
“Well, long story short, we got on like a house on fire,” Idle smiled encouragingly as Zara continued. “It’s been absolutely ages you know, ever since I left Rupert, nobody’s really taken my fancy. Anyway he invited me for dinner and said he didn’t mind bringing me back here later in the hire car.”
Zara had another sip of wine, thinking about Rupert. What a prize twat he’d turned out to be. Still, the divorce settlement had been good. He’d seemed so adventurous and just the ticket at first, lots of holidays in unusual places. Bit of a Hooray Henry and a Champagne Charlie, but it had been fun at first. And a tad too much charlie, too. She had been blissfully unaware of politics and conspiracy theories at the time, but it wasn’t long before his views came between them and she could no longer stomach his idiotic and, to her mind, dangerously cretinous beliefs.
“My parents are both archaeologists,” Zara told Idle, “I learned a lot from them and always been interested in it, but didn’t fancy all the years of studying, and I really wanted to work with animals. There aren’t many good paying jobs working with animals though, not the kind of animals that need helping. Anyway, it worked out ok in the end, thanks to Rupert’s money.”
“You must have had a lot in common to talk about with Sergio, then, him being an archaeologist,” Idle remarked and Zara felt herself blush, much to her astonishment. She couldn’t recall blushing in years.
“Yes we did do some talking,” they both laughed and Zara said “I better get off to bed. Thanks for the wine.”
Zara had completely forgotten about her friends arriving, or the game she’d intended to play until they arrived. She collapsed on the bed without brushing her teeth and was asleep within minutes.
In reply to: Prompts of Madjourneys
Update & clarifications on the characters:
Looking at the avatars that Zara, Youssef, Xavier and Yasmin are using in VR.
Full name or real name in RL :: name in VR (
@nickhandle) description of avatar.- Zara Patara-Smythe :: Zara (
@zaraloon) is a 25-year-old woman of mixed heritage, her mother is Indian and her father is British. She has long, dark hair that she keeps in a sleek ponytail, dark brown eyes and a sharp jawline. She stands at 5’6″ and has a toned and athletic build. She usually wears practical clothing that allows her to move around easily, such as cargo pants and a tank top. - Xavier Olafsson :: Xavier (
@xavimunk) is a 27-year-old man of Norwegian and Danish descent. He has blonde hair that he keeps in a messy style, blue eyes, and a charming smile. He stands at 6’1″ and has a lean build. He is always seen wearing a colorful and bold clothing, such as a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. - Yasmin Ahmed :: Yasmin (
@yasminowl) is a 23-year-old woman of Egyptian descent. She has long, black hair that she keeps in a tight braid, dark brown eyes and a round face. She stands at 5’4″ and has a petite build. She usually wears conservative clothing, such as long skirts and blouses. - Youssef Ali :: Youssef (
@youssefbear) is a 26-year-old man of half Yemeni, half Norwegian descent. He has short, curly black hair, dark brown eyes and a square jawline. He stands at 6’2″ and has a muscular build. He usually wears comfortable clothing such as a t-shirt and jeans, and always has a backpack on his shoulder.
Full descriptions for real-life Zara, Yasmin, Youssef, Xavier:
Real Life Zara Patara-Smythe :: Zara is a 57-year-old woman who is an adventurous traveler and a passionate hobbyist. She has a full mane of gorgeous auburn hair that she keeps in a sleek ponytail, sparkling green eyes, and a warm smile that puts others at ease. She is of mixed heritage, her mother was Indian and her father was British. She is well-educated and well-off, either through an inheritance or a supportive and understanding husband. Zara is a lover of art, music, and history, and spends much of her time indulging in her passions. She is always eager to explore new places and meet new people, and her adventurous spirit often leads her to travel off the beaten path.
Real Life Yasmin Ahmed :: Yasmin is a 32-year-old woman who is kind, nurturing, and always puts others first. She has long, black hair that she keeps in a tight braid, almond-shaped brown eyes, and a warm smile that lights up a room. Born in Egypt, she grew up in a close-knit family and values the importance of community. She is a talented actress, who has kept her career a secret from those closest to her, in order to pursue a more fulfilling life working with children. Yasmin currently volunteers at an orphanage in Fiji, where she devotes herself to helping children in need.
Real Life Youssef Ali :: Youssef is a 34-year-old man who is driven, confident, and always up for a challenge. He has short, curly black hair, dark brown eyes, and a square jawline that gives him a strong and determined look. Born to a Yemeni father and a Norwegian mother, he has a unique blend of cultures that has shaped his world view. Youssef is a talented blogger, who has traveled the world in search of new and interesting stories to share with his audience. He is always on the go, with a backpack on his shoulder, ready for his next adventure.
Real Life Xavier Olafsson :: Xavier is a 36-year-old man who is bright, cheerful, and always looking for the positive in every situation. He has blonde hair that he keeps in a messy style, blue eyes, and a charming smile that never fails to win people over. Born to Norwegian and Danish parents, he has a love for the sea and an appreciation for the finer things in life. Xavier is an AI developer, who is working on a project he calls AL. He is always eager to share his ideas with others and is constantly seeking new and exciting opportunities.
In reply to: The Jorid’s Travels – 14 years on
“That’s all Jorid had to say?” Georges mused at the sudden philosophical quote that read:
And doesn’t this point to something fundamentally tragic about our way of life? We live under an assumed identity, in a neurotic fairy tale world with no more reality than the Mock Turtle in Alice in Wonderland. Hypnotized by the thrill of building, we have raised the houses of our lives on sand. This world can seem marvelously convincing until death collapses the illusion and evicts us from our hiding place. What will happen to us then if we have no clue of any deeper reality? (The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying)
“I don’t know about this Mock Turtle, but those snapping sand ones that have been lurking about do look rather nasty. We shouldn’t waste any more time.”
Klatu opined “Klatu agrees with your female, sand turtle are lovely traps of death. Come with me now!” He intimated them to run into a sand opening he’d just made.
“Let me guess,” Georges said, “is it the equivalent of a Zathu prison? What powerful people could Léonard possibly have rubbed the wrong way this time?”
“Not prison.” Klatu commented “Death sentence.”
Salomé pointed out a glowing twirl of sand shaped as an ovoid form, inside which a human form could be discerned. “That would explain why he’s not more guarded…”
They approached carefully, expecting some extra booby trap, but nothing seemed to react to their presence, not even the moving sand egg.
“Let me guess,” Georges said, expecting a chorus
“DIMENSIONAL MAGIC!”
Klatu shushed them “Quiet stupids! Sound waves attract good turtles.”
“Is our friend OK? How do we break the spell?” Salomé asked Klatu. “Can you help?”
Klatu took a few minutes to inspect the shape, hopping carefully around it, and probing with soft whistling sounds.
“Friend in stasis for now. Kept fresh for questioning… possible.”
“Then we must hurry, how can we free him? Can I brute force this?” Georges asked, looking around for something to pierce the sand barrier and hook Léonard out of it.
“Only if you like sushi friend.” Klatu said, raising shoulders. “No finesse these primates.”
Klatu moved around the shape, taking some tools from his belt and making some elaborate plaits of sounds, as if trying to match the energy signature of the sand prison.
After a first belt of soundwaves was wrapped around, it seemed as though a first layer of the spell broke, and sand rained back into the external construct they were it. But a thin layer was still there, shifting and pulsating, almost clear as glass, and sharp as a razor blade.
“Crude encoding, but solid. Need more time.” Klatu seemed exhausted.
Georges was getting anxious for some activity. “Houses built on sand… Well I guess Jorid didn’t find the best quote to help…”
Salomé who was sitting cross-legged, trying for some time to connect to Léonard in his stasis, turned to Georges in disbelief. “Georges, you’re a genius!”
“What now?”
“Jorid gave us the last bit we needed. Until death collapses the illusion and evicts us from our hiding place. Remember? It’s risky but that could work!”
“Oh, I see what you’re thinking about. It’s mad, and it’s brilliant at the same time, how do we go about this?”
“I can’t reach Léonard, but maybe the both of us can.” Salomé joined hands with Georges.
“If he’s like anything I remember, he’d be in his mental palace, his workshop on the Duane… or in Marseille… or with Madame Jamelie…”
“Focus, Georges!”
“Duane it is, that’s where he did his best work.”
“We need to focus our energy to make him appear dead to the construct. It’ll be easier if we can locate precisely where his mind wanders.” Salomé said.
“He’ll be there, I know it. Let’s do this!”
The two of them joined hands and melded their minds, one as always, turning into a dark mirror of the abyss, bending light unto itself, leaving the void of creation at the place where Léonard was suspended.
Klatu looked at the scene suspiciously, but started to giggle as he saw the last layer he couldn’t open finally shatter and dissolve to the ground.
“Little apes full of surprises,… very awful, so very awful.” he said approvingly.
As his friends rushed to him, Léonard was on the ground, inert, but apparently alive.
In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
Youssef hadn’t changed a bit since they last met in real life. He definitely brought the bear in the bear hug he gave Xavier after Xavier had entered the soft sandal wood scented atmosphere of the Indian restaurant.
It was like there’d seen each other the day before, and conversation naturally flew without a thought on the few years’ hiatus between their last trip.
As they inquired about each other’s lives and events on the trip to get to Alice Springs, they ordered cheese nan, salted and mango lassi, a fish biryani and chicken tikka masala and a side thali for Youssef who was again ravenous after the jumpy ride. Soon after, the discussion turned to the road ahead.
“How long to the hostel?” asked Youssef, his mouth full of buns.
Xavier looked at his connected watch “It’s about 1 and half hour drive apparently. I called the number to check when to arrive, they told me to arrive before sunset… which I guess gives us 2-3 hours to visit around… I mean,” he looked at his friend “… we can also go straight there.”
Youssef nodded. He seemed to have had already enough of interactions in the past day.
Xavier continued “so it’s settled, we leave after we finish here. According to the landlady, it looks like Zara went off trekking, she didn’t seem too sure about Zara’s whereabouts. That would explain why we heard so little from her.”
Youssef laughed “If they don’t know Zara, I can bet they’ll be running around searching for her in the middle of the night.”
Xavier looked though the large window facing the street pensively. “I’m not sure I would want to get lost away from the beaten tracks here. There’s something so alien to the scale of it, and the dryness. Have you noticed we’re next to a river? I tried to have a look when I arrived, but it’s mostly dried up. And it’s supposed to be the wet season…”
Youssef didn’t reply, and turned to the leftovers of the biryani.
Despite the offering to top it off with gulab jamun and rose ice cream, it didn’t take too long to finish the healthy meal at the Indian restaurant. Youssef and Xavier went for the car.
“Here, catch!” Xavier threw the keys to Youssef. He knew his friend would have liked to drive; meanwhile he’d be able to catch on some emails and work stuff. After all, he was supposed to remote work for some days.
In reply to: The Jorid’s Travels – 14 years on
“What was that?” Salomé was trying to get her bearings after they hit the sand storm into a different place.
Before the sand storm hit, they got chased by one of the Zathu army drone’s which they tried to shake off their tail, but that was only the beginning of the fun.
Coming ominously from afar, a huge wall of sand came toward them at surprisingly massive speed darkening all in its wake. They were about to be hit and engulfed, but that was when all took a turn for the strangest. The dark sand wall suddenly split open, reacting to a sound beam apparently emitted from Klatu’s speedster. After that, it was mostly a blur. They had gone into a sort of shifting sand vortex that had them glide into a series of sliding slopes with the oddest directional gravity pull she’d experienced. She had to shout a few times “Watch out” when some of the giant sand snapping turtles tried to gobble their ride, but somehow they seemed to have managed to reach their destination —and quite safely too.“Whooo!” Georges was elated at the adrenaline rush. “So that’s the trick our friend had up his sleeve, it seems?”
“Silly human hasn’t seen anything yet” mumbled Klatu whose middle ear was tuned into their direction.
“I’ve got sand in places one shouldn’t.” Georges said laughing, as if to make the air lighter.
“Don’t get me started,” Salomé managed a weak smile. She never was fond of the speed thrills. But when she turned her head, that’s where she saw them —old ruins dripping sand like a streaming source. Down or sideways, she couldn’t tell. The gravitational pull seemed to indicate they were down, but herself, Georges, their pod and Klatu were all stuck on a vertical cliff like geckos comfortably lounging on a warm wall. Down, then it was…
It took her a minute to realize Klatu was actually manipulating the sand and the gravitational configuration around, revealing the landscape that was hidden.
“Mmmm, dimensional magic…” she remembered the words from Jorid.
“Smelly friends of yours inside. Must go quicksy, Klatu can’t hold it long.”
Georges opened his mouth, but Salomé elbowed him right away. “He doesn’t mean to pee, Georges.”
In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
Rajkumar had named his car JUMPY because he said it reminded him of his mother country. He drove like they were in the chaotic streets of an Indian city. Youssef’s fist was clenched on the door handle, his knuckles white. He needed to hold on to something just as much as he was afraid of loosing the door.
He had never been so happy as when Rajkumar stopped in front of his cousin’s shop and restaurant.
“Just in time for the best butter chicken in all Alice Springs!” said Rajkumar, pointing to the restaurant on the left.Smells of greasy sauce, meat and spices floated in the air. Despite his legendary hunger, Youssef’s stomach started to protest from the recent treatment on the road. If he had had any doubt, he was sure now that he wouldn’t go on a trip in Jumpy with Rajkumar.
“Maybe I’ll go for the scarf first,” he said.
Rajkumar noded and pointed to the right, to a stout man squating in front of a pile of scarves.
“This is cousin Ashish. You can’t find a better shop in town for scarves,” said Rajkumar. He high fived his cousin who looked like a giant in comparison with the short guide. They talked for a long time in what Youssef assumed to be some Indian dialect. At some point, his guide pointed a finger at him and said : “This big man is looking for a red scarf. I told him you had the best quality in town. Hand made, right from India. Ashish buys and sells the best to the best only. I have to go park the car and tell my other cousin to prepare you a meal. Best Indian food in Alice.”
After he left, cousin Ashish showed Youssef in. At the entrance incense burned at the feet of a couple of colourful Hindu gods. The intoxicating smell reminded him of a stop at a temple during his last trip with the documentary team. The face of Miss Tartiflate jumped into his mind. He would have to take care of THE BLOG at some point, but for now, he was looking for a red scarf. The inside of the shop was as messy as a Mongolian bazaar. Clothes upon clothes, and piles of scarves everywhere.
“Red scarves are over there, said Ashish. Follow me.”
He was less talkative than his cousin, which was a welcome relief. He led Youssef to the back of the shop. On the wall, the portrait in black and white of an old Indian man was watching over their shoulder.
Ashish took one long red scarf and put it around his neck.
“You can touch, he said. Very good quality. Very light. Like you wear nothing.”
Youssef took the end of the fabric in his hand. It felt very silky and light to the touch.
“That’s perfect, I’ll take it”, he said.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and checked his messages.
- 📨
[Quirk Land] NEW QUEST OPENED
Looking at the time, it was already noon. Xavier must have landed in Alice already. He started to type a message to his friend :
💬
Meet me for lunch at Todd Mall. Patel indian restaurant next to fabric shopIn reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
After Youssef retrieved his luggage in Alice Springs, he was swarmed with freelance tour guides trying to sell him trips. You would buy a ticket out of any one of them just to get rid of the others, he thought. With a few hungry growls, he managed to frighten most of them, with a touch of indifference he lost the rest. Except one. A short Indian looking man wearing a red cap and a moustache. He seemed to have an infinite talkative energy at his disposal, able to erode the strongest wills. The temperature was hotter than Youssef had expected, here it was the end of summer, and he was hungry. The man started to get on his nerves.
The list of tours was endless. Uluru, scenic bushwalking trails, beautiful gardens, a historical tour, a costumed historical tour, a few national parks, and even his cousins’ restaurant. He reminded Youssef of his own father, always offering guests (and especially his visiting kids) another fruit, a pastry, some coffee, chocolate ? You sure you don’t want any chocolate? If the man was tenacious, Youssef had had training with his father. But this man seemed to mistake silence and indifference for agreement. Did he really think Youssef was going to buy one of his tours ?
“The ghost town! You have to see Arltunga, said the man. An old mining ghost town, certainly an American like you like ghost towns. And buried treasure. Arltunga has buried treasure somewhere. You can find it. I know where to find a map.”
Youssef wondered if it was another one of the game’s fluke that his quest was apparently bleeding into his real life again. And if there was a map, why hasn’t the treasure been found already? He checked at the back of his mind for the presence of that crazy old lady. Nope, not there. He decided to refuse the call this time. He just wanted to get to that F…ing Fish Inn in Crowshollow and meet with his friends.
“NO, he growled, frightening a group of tourists passing by, but not the tour operator. No ghost town! We have plenty in America.” Thinking of the game and his last challenge for the previous quest, he said in desperation : “I just want to find a red scarf!” and he knew inside himself and many years attempting to resist his old man, that the short Indian man had won.
“If you want to find a red scarf, you go to Silk Road, said the man bobbing his head. My cousin’s shop, you find everything there only.”
Youssef sighed. He thought there were only two ways to take it. The first one was that he had fallen into a trap and try to find a way to get out of it. But it might be sticky and uncomfortable for everyone. So he decided it was the other way around and that it was part of the game. Why wouldn’t he use this as an opportunity for adventure. Wasn’t that what Xavier always said about roads less traveled ?
“Where is your cousin’s shop? he asked. And where’s that restaurant of your cousin’s? I’m starving.”
The little man smiled broadly.
“Same place. Two brothers. Shop next to restaurant in Todd Mall. You’re lucky! Follow me.”
In reply to: Prompts of Madjourneys
Yasmin offered the following quirk: “sounding like a lunatic when I share synchs” (synchronicity) – getting excited when she gets “answers”, and willing to share generously. She wouldn’t fake it, as she’s not capable of lying and stuff like synchs are sacrosanct in her mind.
Setting for the game is the next random quote from the story.Quirk accepted.
In the Land of Quirk, Yasmin finds herself in the heart of a hidden library, deep in the basement of the Flying Fish Inn. The library is filled with books and artifacts related to the study of synchronicities and the beyond.
As Yasmin delves deeper into the library, she comes across an ancient book that seems to hold the secrets of the universe. She eagerly opens it, but finds that it is written in a code that she cannot understand.
The librarian, a wise old owl, appears and greets Yasmin. He tells her that the book is the Key to the Beyond and that only the purest of heart can decode it. He explains that the code can only be unlocked by finding the missing pieces of a puzzle scattered throughout the library.
Yasmin’s task is to find the missing pieces of the puzzle and put them together to unlock the code. Along the way, she will meet various characters who will provide her with clues and challenges.
Proof of completion in real life: Yasmin must find a real-life object that relates to a synchronicity that she experiences while on her quest in the Land of Quirk. She must then share this synchronicity with her friends at the Flying Fish Inn to prove that she has completed her quest.
Good luck, Yasmin!
In reply to: Prompts of Madjourneys
Youssef offered the following quirk: “unwilling magnet for talkative people in need of listening” (setting in a ghost town).
Setting: A small ghost town in the middle of the Australian outback. The town was once thriving but now only a few stragglers remain, living in old, decrepit buildings. You find yourself in the town square, surrounded by the old post office, the saloon, and a few other ramshackle buildings.
Quest: Your task is to find the source of the magnetic pull that attracts talkative people to you. You must find the reason behind it and break the spell, so you can continue your journey in peace.
Direction to investigate: Start by talking to the residents of the town, they may have some information or insights on the strange happenings in the town. Explore the old post office and the saloon, they might hold the key to breaking the spell.
Characters to engage: The residents of the town, including the old timer at the saloon and the postmaster at the post office.
Tile to look for: A silver key in the shape of a tongue, symbolizing the power of speech.
Proof of insert in real life: Take a picture of yourself holding the key, and send it to the game master as proof of completion.
In reply to: Orbs of Madjourneys
The plane trip stretched on forever. Xavier had the time to rewatch a few blockbusters, and catch up on light novels – in particular a roadtrip of 3 elderly Ukrainians —a story that didn’t seem to have much to say, but did put a smile on his face.
The plane has wifi, and he could have connected to the game, but he was trying his capacity to be weaned of the adrenaline rush that came with the adventures. Glimmer and the pirate ship would have to wait. He’d put his avatar on autopilot, and usually that helped propel the plot forward without investing too much time in going through relatively mundane adventures (those were needed to provide background balance and contrast against the rush of the occasional action). He hoped Glimmer wouldn’t abuse of it, and send them both to some crazy place looking for Flove knows what.
There was the occasional temptation to catch a hold of the news and his friends, but relying on the old ways of daydreaming and imagination, he could feel they were doing fine.
He could well picture Zara off to explore in and out of the game, that much was a given. As for Youssef he should be able to catch up in Alice Springs, since he wasn’t anywhere in Sydney when he landed. He was probably squeezed right now on an economy seat in between a sweaty tourist, an annoying expat, and a chatty woman. Xavier chuckled to himself thinking of the large frame of his friend in the tiny space.
He hoped all was right with Yasmin. He hadn’t be able to connect before the flight, but she was resourceful and given her competitive spirit, there was actually a good chance she had a shortcut to be there before any of them.Alice Springs was close by now. The plane prepared for landing.
Xavier remembered he’d have to get the black notebook that was part of the last assignment. They surely would have something like that in the duty free area.
Chapter 4: There is no place like home
A Visit to Duckailingtown
The group arrives in the small city of Duckailingtown, known for its unusual name and the legendary wooden leg carpenter, Dumbass Voldomeer.
Maryechka, is shown by Liliya and Lina the local museum where they learn about the famous wooden leg carpenter and the swan flu outbreak that left the President incapacitated.
The group visits the workshop of Dumbass Voldomeer and they are shocked to find that he is the spitting image of the President.
Dumbass Voldomeer tells them about his connection to the President and how he was approached to take his place as the President.
The group learns about the Rootian border and the close relationship between Rootia and Dumbass, and the possibility of a future cross-border conflict.
The group visits the swan sanctuary and learns about the mysterious swan flu virus that has affected the President and the citizens of Dumbass.
The group makes a decision to continue their journey to Rootia to find a cure for the swan flu and save the President.Cross-border Conflict
The group crosses the Rootian border and finds themselves in the midst of a conflict between Rootia and Dumbass.
They meet with a Rootian diplomat who explains the conflict and the role of the President in resolving it.
The group encounters Myroslava who is still being pursued by her pursuers and they team up to find a cure for the swan flu.
They visit the Rootian medical facility where they meet with the chief medical officer who explains the research being done on the swan flu virus.
The group travels to a remote location where they meet with Olek, the caretaker of the Flovlinden Tree, and learns about the sacred oil that is believed to have healing properties.
The group collects the sacred oil and returns to the medical facility where they successfully cure the President and put an end to the conflict between Rootia and Dumbass.
The group returns home, proud of their accomplishment and the newfound knowledge and experiences they have gained on their journey.A Homecoming Celebration
The group returns home and is greeted with open arms by their families and friends.
Maryechka, Liliya, and Lina visit Egna who is thrilled to hear about their journey and the success of their mission.
The group shares their experiences and knowledge with their friends and families, and they all celebrate their homecoming together.
Dumbass Voldomeer visits the group and thanks them for their help in resolving the conflict between Rootia and Dumbass.
The group visits the Flovlinden Tree and pays homage to Olek and the sacred oil that played a critical role in their journey.
Maryechka, Liliya, and Lina reflect on their journey and the life-long friendships they have formed.
The group concludes their journey and looks forward to their future adventures and discoveries.More developments
Chapter 3: The Journey becomes more eggciting
The Flovlinden Tree
The group reaches the Flovlinden Tree, a massive linden tree in the heart of Oocrane, which is said to be sacred and is attracting crowds of pilgrims.
They meet Olek, the old caretaker of the tree, who tells them the story of Saint Edigna. He explains how the tree is said to have magical healing properties, and how the tree is responsible for the sacred oil that the pilgrims come to collect.
However, Olek reveals that the secret of Saint Edigna is not what it seems. Edna, an old woman who has been living far from the crowd for thousands of years, is actually Saint Edigna.
Olek shares that Edna has been living in solitude for very long. He tells the group that if they want to learn more about the sacred tree and Edna, they must travel to her hidden home.
The four friends were shocked to hear that Edna was still alive and wanted to meet her. They asked Olek for directions, and he gave them a map that showed the way to Edna’s remote dwelling.
They bid farewell to Olek and set off on their journey to find Edna.A Run-In with Myroslava
The group comes across a former war reporter, Myroslava, who is traveling on her own after leaving a group of journalists. She is being followed by mysterious individuals and is trying to lose them by hunting and making fire in bombed areas.
Myroslava is frustrated and curses her lack of alcohol, wishing she could find a place to escape from her pursuers.
The group approaches Myroslava and offers to help her. She joins forces with them and together, they set off on their journey.
As they travel, Myroslava shares her experiences as a war reporter, and the group listens in awe. She explains how she has seen the worst of humanity, but also the best, and how it has changed her as a person.
Myroslava and the group continue their journey, with the former reporter becoming more and more determined to shake off her pursuers and continue on her own.A Visit with Eusebius Kazandis’ Relatives
The group reaches a small village where they are expected by relatives of Eusebius Kazandis, the cauldron seller that Rose has met at the Innsbruck fair.
The relatives tell the group about Kazandis and his business, and how he has been traveling the world, selling his wares. They explain how he has become a legend in their village, and how proud they are of him.
The group learns about Kazandis’ passion for cooking and how he uses his cauldrons to create delicious meals for his customers. They are also shown his secret recipe book, which has been passed down for generations.
The relatives invite the group to try some of Kazandis’ famous dishes, and they are blown away by the delicious flavors.
The group thanks the relatives for their hospitality and sets off on their journey, with a newfound appreciation for Kazandis and his love of cooking.A Surprising Encounter with Edna
The group finally reaches Edna’s hidden home, a small cottage in the middle of a dense forest.
As they approach the cottage, they are surprised to see Edna, who is actually the legendary Saint Edigna, standing outside, waiting for them.The four friends have finally arrived at Edna’s dwelling, where they learned about her vast knowledge of the families connected to her descendants. Edna showed them her books, and they were amazed to find that their own family was listed among her descendants. They were even more shocked to learn that they were related to President Voldomeer Zumbasky and Dumbass Voldomeer, who was said to be a distant relative and carpenter who made the President’s wooden leg. It was rumored that they shared a common ancestor, but in reality, they were possibly secret twins.
The Secret of Dumbass Voldomeer
The four friends were determined to find out more about Dumbass Voldomeer and his connection to their family. They learned that he lived in the small city of Duckailingtown in Dumbass, near the Rootian border. They also discovered that Dumbass Voldomeer had been enrolled to take the place of the President, who had succumbed from a mysterious swan flu virus, to which Dumbass Voldomeer was immune. As they set to Duckailingtown, they couldn’t help but wonder what other secrets and surprises lay ahead for them on this incredible journey.
- Zara Patara-Smythe :: Zara (
