By Richard LeBlanc
Chapter Three
Within a lavishly decorated castle - almost a world away from where the battle had taken place, a slender, well-dressed man was watching Toymaker and his new guide walking away from where the attack had happened in a glimmering magical mirror. Although he wasn't expecting the attackers to actually succeed - he was expecting a somewhat better performance.
"That was almost painful to watch. You have done your part - return." he said to himself. the mirror slowly faded to pitch black. He was a plainswalker named Tmelan, known to most as the Savanna Master.
"I am beginning to question if this approach will work." he muttered. Just then red flames shot out from the mirror. He quickly turned around and saw a hooded person standing on the other side of the flickering flames. Tmelan sighed and reluctantly bowed.
"Your place - isn't to question - it isn't to even think - it is to do as you are told." the person stated.
"Yes master." he replied lowly.
"And if you think that just because you are there - and so far away from me - that you are safe from me..." the hooded person began.
"I would never be so foolish as to believe that master." he interrupted.
"Good. You showed alot of promise. Don't prove me wrong." the person warned.
"Would it not be quicker if i just faced this man directly? My power and hold over my minions is not as strong when i am not there to oversee them." he asked. the person pushed her finger out from the mirror and pointed it at him.
"This is no simple peasant you fool. He follows in the footsteps of Mishra and Urza. You will face him directly only if he learns who you are - and if you know what is good for you - you will make sure that such a thing - does not happen." she warned.
"If such is your will - so it will be." he replied. The hand slowly returned back into the mirror. the flames rose up - a red light flashed out from the mirror - then the mirror went black. Tmelan took a deep breath and backed away from the mirror. he should have known that she was watching.
"Okay - time to set up trap number four." he muttered. he walked over and put on his cloak. The last attempt had cost him hundreds of useful minions. If he hoped to set up another trap before Toymaker moved on - his master would be less than pleased.
"White Feather - to me!" he called out. just then - the white falcon that had watched the war between Tmelan's forces and Toymaker appeared from thin air and perched on its master's shoulder. He waved his hand. His golden septer and book of incantations appeared before him.
"We have to do some more recruiting." he mentioned. the bird screeched.
"I'm not pleased with it either - but orders are orders." he replied. With a wave of his golden staff - both he and his trusted familiar vanished.
Back where Toymaker and Thortan were, the two were atop a hill that overlooked a large city that stood beside the seemingly endless ocean.
"I left there about a month or so ago - as you can see it is a pretty happening place." Thortan commented.
"It is a port as well. That means that they might have something I am seeking." he replied.
"What exactly are you looking for?" he asked.
"I won't know until I find it." he answered.
"Well, that was pretty vague. Come on - I'll show you around - but don't do any of that magic stuff - these people are a touch - nervous around magical types." he pointed out.
"Oh, don't worry - I blend in wherever I go." Toymaker sarcastically retorted.
"I can imagine. Follow me." he muttered. The two walked down to where the road to the city began and made their way through the seas of travelers that were both leaving the city and entering. Toymaker looked around at the structures - the people - everything looked so plain. Even the venders that were peddling their rare and unusual trasures seemed mundane. At least until he saw one bendor that had several damaged and old looking devices. Toymaker stopped and listened to the man go on and on about how they were possessed by powerful creators - and how a piece of their power was in each of his items.
"Ignore him. He's a junk vendor. He goes around and scavenges garbage - polishes it up and tries to sell it to the gullible ones. I'm surpriesed he's still in one piece after some of the scams he's pulled." Thortan stated. But he could easiliy tell that his words were falling on deaf ears.
"Or not." he replied. the two walked over to where the vendor was. Toymaker examined the seemingly useless rabble and trinkets until he found a badly painted remade item. It had been given hands and legs and a foolish looking head - but there was more to it that met the eye.
"You like? for you a special deal - twenty crowns?" the vendor offered. Toymaker slowly looked up at the man.
"Where did you get this?" he asked.
"I found it. you buying it or not?" he retorted.
To be continued...
