It is finally back. After the nasty little incident about the plagerizing, that was not my fault, I have finally redone Chapter 1!! My apologies go out to those of you who read the original version of this Chapter. I co-wrote it with a co-worker, and he stole his version from a book. My apologies go out to Mark Anthony, who will never read this, but I honestly didn't know.

This chapter is an original to the best of my knowledge. The little birdies have been chirping to me quite fervently, and I have been scrawling out material. Of course, then again, spring is in the air, and that could just be the birds outside. Please, be kind and read and review. I will do the same for you!

Chapter 1: The Dream

The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the tower's broad window to do a naughty little dance across the open spellbooks, notebooks, scrolls, a half eaten ham on rye, and many and various aparati, that looked to be quite painful if activated and having nothing to do with the magic lessons at hand. Leaning precariously back in a chair with his feet propped atop the books and dangerously mysterious apparati with hungry eager jaws (and conveniently squishing the half eaten ham sandwich on rye), the apprentice tore into the package that was to contain a book of a totally different kind of magic. By the weight and the size of the package, this issue must be one doozy! When the brown wrapping of paper fell away, so did the look of eager anticipation on the apprentice's face. What he held in his hands was not of a naughty magic; it was downright evil. It was a peeling leather bound dusty musty foul smelling book with official gothic lettering of some ominous reddish brown ink, that read in vast pride "Manifestations of the Demon World". Tallon gave a goofy smile and shrugged. Oh well, some of those demon chicks were hot. He went to open the book and had to position himself in such a way that he could actually open the huge tome. Damn! He thought, Banjo would have to steal him book that required two hands. He opened the tome with high hopes and eager breathless anticipation.

A white light flashed like that time he made the pass at Roxanne and she countered it with her knee to a delicate place. Such a sudden happening causes the laws of balance to fall into place. Tallon's feet slid across the table, completely squishing and smearing the half eaten ham on rye and setting off the many and asundrious mechanical devices on the table. The chair tumbled to the floor, throwing Tallon into the buzzing active table. Fortunately, he knocked himself out as his head impacted on the table.

Tallon woke up sprawled in a compromising position on a strange cavern floor. He sat up and wanted to rub his sore head, but he felt a buzzing sensation underneath him. He pulled the vibrating device from underneath him and immediately recognized it immediately that it belong to another thieving friend called Chance. Tallon dropped the thing with a shriek as if it had bit him. He felt sicker.

He stumbled to his feet and felt dizzy. That was a normal state of being for him. He looked around himself to get his bearings. Somehow, he had this feeling that he wasn't in the tower anymore. Perhaps he had been transport to the Abyss for his naughty book collection. At least, that was what his tutor Pristilius often told him would happen. Then again, it could be worse. He could have ended up in that terrible place known as Kansas. His head swam and throbbed. He felt like he had been run over by that famous stage coach that carried Lord Tikimesil and his amazing 27 way around town, then if that wasn't enough, he was bashed up side the head with the broadsword of Lord Groth. Oh well, he had had worse from Dragon Wrath's hangover. That was Jeriah Rack's most famous, most potent and most mind rotting brew, that could and eat through the stoutest cauldron in Pristilius' collection on its lesser days. Tallon was able to get through four of these fine drinks before he ended up shitfaced on the floor. His great lofty goal in life was to get that elusive fifth and stay conscious long enough to brag about it.

His bleared vision cleared somewhat as he looked about the dimly lit cavern. A dull blood red glow illuminated and danced about the cavern. It remind him of Kel's rooms at the Purple Unicorn, but the color didn't change to blue, then green, then yellow, and there certainly wasn't any smell of the substances the bard kept. Besides, Tallon had had visual problems of this sorts before when dealing with Dragon's Wrath. These interesting side effects (along with many others best not mentioned) Tallon always attributed to some of the more interesting secret ingredients that Jeriah had the tendency of putting in that famous drink of his. That man knew more uses for corn cobs than any being should ever know. Some little voice in his head said, "Come to the light, Caroline." Hearing voices in his head was nothing new either from Dragon's Wrath side effects. He didn't know a Caroline, but she sure sounded cute. So, since he had nothing better to do, and there was a lady in distress . . . well, a lady was involved . . . well, it was something of the female persuasion, he obeyed.

As he traveled along the dirty caverns, it occurred to him that he might be following up on some great unknown or lost secret of the ages. It was said that far beneath the city dwelt the most accomplished psychotic megalomaniacal wizard Zenopus and his seven charming creatively promiscuous daughter. Hey! It was worth a try, and he had nothing better to do. Doing his crop enhancing potions was low on his priority list. Porston was a very urban city. So, he followed this mysterious voice and the deepening glow. He was soon rewarded for his pain by a pair of delicate pink fluffy slippers. They could have been a cream color for all he knew, but because of the strange glow, everything was in shades of pinks and reds. All he knew for certain was these slippers belonged to a delicate foot. Maybe it was that Cinderella chick he was pursuing. She did have the tendency of losing shoes, and she was one sexy broad!

Further ahead in the distance on the very edge of his sight was some other fluffy pink accessory. Talon ran to it. It was a pair of bunny ears. His heart beat faster. The pink fluffy carrot was on the stick and leading this rabbit along. Another pink furry object lay on the floor further on. Tallon ran to retrieve this new pink goodie, and goodie it was! It was a fluffy brasserie of a quite well endowed top heavy maiden . . . woman . . . female (Size DDD). Tallon did a little dance for joy. Another fluffy delight lay just beyond. The young man's heart skipped a beat in his excitement. He rushed in head first to retrieve this little pink gift, and his foot caught a snag and he fell face forward into the size 58 pair of pink fluffy panties. A nasty little lump grew in his throat, and his green eyes grew wide in terror.

A rumble shook the ground and steam and pink flowery bubbles floated up. Tallon screwed his eyes shut and tried to swallow the lump back down. He felt a sharp pain in his posterior. With a vile curse, he grabbed hold of his attacker, and he found a rather sizeable rat. The rodent gave him a big ratty mischievous grin and attached itself to his hand. Tallon let out a rather potent curse, that was not suitable for print in these pages, and considering the size and proportion, there was no way he could follow through with that curse, and the name he called the rat said that his delirium was so far gone that he no longer knew a rodent from a canine. He swung his hand over the opening in the ground and tried to shake free the rat, but it held firm even when the sickened apprentice banged him against the side of the crack.

Tallon finally gave up and laid his head on the edge feeling quite dejected. The rat suddenly squealed and ran up his sleeve and into his shirt. The sorcerer in training uttered another obscenity, that given the rat's size and the prolific skills of reproduction, and considering that incest was not something considered wrong (or at all) in rat philosophy, he could have been quite accurate in his description. Freud would have had a field day with the Oedipal complexes involved in this statement. Pretty much this said the young man had a one track mind.

Large Mr. Bubble bubbles floated out of the crack and popped with a soapy spray. The ground trembled. Out of the vast depths rose a huge ball of pink silky fur with beady black eyes. Several smaller but similar and equally furry fur balls rose with it. Seeing the giant fluffy panties before him, Tallon tried to swallow down his lunch again and not look up, but the jig pop music that sound made his curiosity win out over common sense. He lost his lunch as a result of it. The rat, being quite the opportunist, quickly reappeared, devoured the rejects, and swiftly disappeared back into Tallon's shirt.


The voice was rather high and fruity. The sorcerer's apprentice shrank back with visions of Chance and his estranged sire. The rat scrambled around nervously, and Tallon was horribly ticklish. So, appropriately cringing and being apologetic to the superior being in the pit was now out of the question. He began giggling uncontrollably.


The apprentice laughed in earnest this time. The rat squirmed, and this did little for him to regain his control.


Tallon choked and worked on regaining the control of himself, but he just couldn't.


The apprentice finally captured the rat and held the rodent out at arm's length. The rat had a few interesting names for Tallon, but no one there knew rat to translate. A different kind of rumbling was heard from far below. Several bubbles floated up and popped in a sulfurous way.


After the apprentice caught his breath again, he lost it again. He rolled on the floor in the giggles yet again. A pink ray full of sparklies and pixie dust struck the young man like the instructing stick that Pristilius had. It bashed him several times before he awoke to his room with his irate tutor standing over him.

"Clean up this mess you made, you low life thieving street urchin! What Lord Nikodemus sees in you I will never know . . ." Pristilius droned on.

Tallon had long ago learned to tune his tutor out. He picked up the dusty old book and shoved it in his pocket before his zealous tutor noticed it. Pristilius would never let him hock it off for a better more educational book.

"That's the last time I send Banjo to filch me a copy of 'Fields and Milkmaids Monthly'!" he swore under his breath.