Dragonflywriting

The War of Australia
A collaboration by Ari and Dur
Just to annoy you

It all began with a little white card.
A friend had slipped Adrian the card a week ago. At the time Adrian had politely tucked it into his wallet, intending to forget about it. He would do it on his own, he thought. Hire some low-rate lawyer to make the thing official, sign a few things, and be on his way.
But that was before Marilyn had said, "Of course, I will be receiving all of our financial assets, plus the house and the cabin."
Adrian had paused, pen poised above the stack of papers that Marilyn's lawyer had shoved in front of him to sign.
"Um... what?" Adrian had inquired.
With a sparkling-glossy smile, Marilyn repeated her words, adding "Because of my career, you see. I'll need it all."
Adrian had stood up, shoving his chair back into the water cooler and sending several dixie cups toppling to the floor. "Marilyn, you are a vampiric, soulless woman," he informed her. "And I would sooner die than see you touch a cent of my hard-earned money! Or the house." With that, he stomped out of the room.
Now Adrian stared at the card in his hand. On the back his friend had scribbled: Really good. On the front was: Stephan Urg, divorce lawyer followed by a number and an address. Adrian looked up from the card to the man standing before him.
Stephan Urg, divorce lawyer, was at least seven feet of muscle and greenish leathery skin. His black hair was neatly combed back, mostly hiding the little horns on his head, and his deep-set, dark eyes were not made for the glint of intelligence that Adrian saw there.
"Um," Adrian said.
"Yes," replied Mr. Urg, "I am a troll. Not all trolls are stupid, you know."
"Uh, yes." Adrian didn't bother to try to wrap his mind around this new information. "Actually, I was going to say... I need to hire you."
"Yes, that's generally why people make appointments with me. Sit down." Urg gestured at a chair. Then he sat himself down behind a desk (it was custom-made, to accommodate him, not that it's relevant) and rifled through some papers. "I've already reviewed your case, and I think, Mr. Brown, that we can win."
Adrian tore his gaze away from Urg's horns and sat down. "Erm... yes. Good."
"Yes." agreed Urg, "It is. Now, I think first we should go over the events leading up to the divorce. Has this been in the making for a while now?"
"Not really." said Adrian dully, "Well, she only married me in the first place so that I could support her while she went around trying to become a famous actress."
Mr. Urg suddenly looked very interested. He leaned forward in his chair, which, despite being also custom-made, emitted a loud, distressing creak. "So you're saying," he said seriously, "that the only reason that Marilyn was able to realize her dream of becoming an actress, and receive an exponential and ongoing income is because you supported her?"
"Yes." said Adrian, "And now I really wish I hadn't."
Mr. Urg smiled, looking not unlike a gorilla who had just seen food, except for the cunning glint in his small eyes. "Don't wish that." he said.
"And why shouldn't I?" asked Adrian crossly.
"Because," answered Mr. Urg, "If you are directly responsible for the initial cause of income, that means you are also legally entitled to at least fifty percent of all present, and possibly future earnings."
Adrian felt a feeling of relief spread through him, along with gratitude to the strange man (or troll) in front of him. "Oh." he said weakly, "Well... that's good."
Mr. Urg smiled again, "Yes." he agreed, "It really is." He leaned back in his chair. "Now go home and get some sleep, Mr. Brown. I will take care of the rest."

Marilyn would have flung her make-up across the room, but it was really expensive, and now it was looking like she might not have much money at all soon.
"And who is this lawyer that's got you so worried, Travis?" Marilyn asked calmly. She could act very calm if she wanted to - she was an actress after all, although she specialized in parts requiring her to look pretty and throw dramatic scenes. Her very first role had been as Second Cheerleader Victim, where she had screamed a lot and looked very hot.
"Stephan Urg," Travis Sylvan explained. "He's... well, he's the best there is in divorce law."
"I thought," Marilyn said, looking for something cheap to throw, "that you were the best."
"Well, I am one of the best. And that's not the point, Marilyn. As I said, you are in real danger of losing a lot of dough. Also the house."
Marilyn scowled, but quickly stopped. Scowling caused wrinkles between the eyebrows. "Travis, I would sooner die -" She paused. Where had she heard it before? Ah, yes, Adrian. Only a few days ago. "Travis!" Marilyn gasped, grabbing the man's shoulders. "That's it! We have to kill Adrian!"
"You mean," said Travis, a nasty smile curling his lips, "An unfortunate accident will befall him. I'm thinking a car bomb."
"And ruin the car?" chided Marilyn, "Honestly Travis, think frugally." she frowned a bit. Was that the right usage of the word? Adrian had always been using big words like frugal, and she had never really paid attention to what they meant. "In any case, I was thinking of something a little bit more dramatic." Travis imitated her frown. It didn't look anywhere near as fetching on him as it did on his client. "More dramatic than an exploding car?"
Marilyn smiled, revealing perfect white teeth, which incidentally, her soon-to-be very ex-husband, had paid to have straightened. "Much more dramatic." she said, and laughed, an evil laugh that she would never be able to replicate quite so well for her next role, as the beautiful but deadly evil stepmother.

Adrian glared at the dusty book in his hands, thinking of just putting it back on the shelf, even though it quite obviously didn't have a barcode. He lifted the large volume and let it hover in front of the blank space between the old books on the antiques shelf for a moment.
Then he sighed, and stood. Stretching out of the crouched position he had been in, he tucked the book under his arm, and started towards the stairs, stifling a yawn.
"Adrian." said a low voice from behind him.
The unsuspecting librarian nearly jumped out of his skin. He whirled around to face the intruder, and was stunned to find that it was, in fact, Urg. The Lawyer.
"You!" he said loudly, "How on earth did you get in here?
"Er-" said Urg, but Adrian didn't give him time to continue
"Don't sneak up behind me like that, you could have given me a heart attack! I have quite enough to worry about without having the fluids startled out of me by a troll..."
"Er-" said Urg, "Have you ever actually formed an entire sentence when in a relatively calm mood?"
"Huh?" said Adrian, startled, "Uh... no. Why?"
"Oh, it’s just that I think if you could manage to harness that profound eloquence of yours in everyday exchanges, you'd be an excellent conservationist."
"Um..." said Adrian.
"In any case." said Urg, "I'm actually here for a reason."
"Oh." said Adrian.
"Yes." continued Urg, "You see, I have reason to believe that your life may be in danger."
"Danger?" swallowed Adrian.
"Yes." said Urg, "From your wife."
Adrian's anger began to rise again, "Look" he said, "I know Marilyn isn't Mother Theresa or anything, but I really don't think-"
"Don't you?" interrupted Urg. When Adrian said nothing, he continued, "It's not Marilyn I'm worried about anyway, it's her lawyer. His name is Travis Sylvan. He's an excellent divorce lawyer, but he's not exactly trustworthy."
Adrian was beginning to think that Urg wasn't nearly as smart as he claimed to be. "Mr. Urg." he said forming sentences with difficulty, now that he was no longer angry, but merely annoyed, "Really, thank you for your consideration in... you know, warning me about possible activities of my wife and her lawyer. I know you're just doing your job and everything, but I think it’s a little bit unrealistic to-"
His speech was cut off quite suddenly as Urg was attacked by a ninja.

Karadelaiah had never fought a troll before, but she figured it couldn't be too difficult. After all, she had made it through life with the name Karadelaiah. She even had a plan: launch herself at the great brute, slash open his thick neck, take out the dork that Marilyn was married to, and be home in time for her soaps. Perfect.
What Karadelaiah did not know was that Urg had spent the first sixteen years of his life literally fighting for survival, and knew quite well how to react to someone launching themself at him. At least the ninja didn't weigh three hundred pounds and couldn't even pronounce 'deoderant', like most of Urg's family.
Karadelaiah leaped out of the shadows, blade drawn. Her momentum carried her up and towards Urg, the wind whooshing gently past her face as she readied herself for the killing strike. A moment later she was swatted out of the air.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, then quickly pretended that she hadn't. It wasn't very ninja-like to make girly sounds of distress. She landed in a crouch and took a second to review the situation.
Urg looked very annoyed, and not at all inclined to let Karadelaiah kill him. Adrian looked pale and unwell.
"Ninja," Adrian managed.
Karadelaiah attempted a second attack, but a foot to Urg's throat did not work very well. Seemingly unaffected by the blow to his windpipe, he grabbed her foot and held the assassin upside down.
"You work for Marilyn, do you?" he asked conversationally.
Karadelaiah decided not to reply, so Urg decided to toss her into a wall.
"Um-" said Adrian.
"Yes, I agree." replied Urg, "Let's go." and he grabbed Adrian by the shirt collar and dragged him out of the library, leaving the unconscious ninja to await her backup, who were, at the moment, stuck in annoying, late-night traffic.

"Let me go." protested Adrian as Urg dragged him towards the nearest well-lit supermarket, "I can walk myself. Obviously I'm not going to run away as there are ninjas following us, and as of right now you're my best form of defense. I can't believe Marilyn sent ninjas after me. Where did she come up with that?"
Urg let Adrian go, and he walked along behind the troll for a while, fuming silently, which was unusual, for him.
The Supermarket was a Wall mart. Adrian stopped dead, as Urg headed towards the door. "I don't-" he stuttered, "like to shop here. It’s bad for small businesses..."
Urg rolled his eyes loudly, which is something that it is only possible for Trolls to do, and said, "We're being followed by ninjas, remember?"
"Oh." said Adrian, "Right." and he followed Urg inside.
They went to the meat section, where Urg began to examine a package of pork chops.
"Um," Adrian said, looking around nervously, "shouldn't we, uh, call... the police?"
Urg put down the pork chops and moved on to the chicken breasts. "They can't help us."
"Well, who can?" demanded Adrian, getting irritated again. "The meat packer?"
Urg sighed. "Just trust me, Adrian. I want to get killed about as much as you do. Now do me a favor and knock down one of those bottles of salmon marinade."
"Uh, what?"
"And then follow me."
"Uh, what?"
"Do it, Adrian."
Adrian seriously considered the possibility of Urg having gone insane (schizophrenia induced by a foot to the throat, most likely), then did as he said anyways. The bottle of marinade that Adrian shoved off of the display shelf gracefully fell to a messy demise, and then the meat clerk rushed over.
"Oh, no, not again!" the clerk seethed.
"I - I'm sorry!" Adrian began, but the clerk had already headed off for a mop.
"Quickly! Follow me," Urg growled, then walked briskly into the back room of the meat department. Without hesitation, Urg opened the door of the walk-in freezer and gestured for Adrian to go inside.
Now doubting his own sanity, Adrian did so. He wrapped his arms around himself and looked around. Before he had done much of that, however, Urg grabbed his shoulder and propelled him forward between several sides of beef. After a minute Adrian realized that the sides of beef now looked amazingly like Star Trek uniforms.
"I think we're here," Urg announced, letting go of Adrian's shoulder and frowning at the uniforms.
Adrian rubbed his shoulder. "Yes, um... where?"
"Australia."
"Australia?!"
"Yes." said Urg, examining the Star Trek uniforms, "These weren't here before."
"No!" said Adrian, "They weren't! What is going on!? How can we possibly be in Australia?"
"The meat locker was a portal." explained Urg, "Hm... Well, I think we should put these on, just to be safe."
"Excuse me?" said Adrian.
"I have a bad hunch." said Urg, who actually had much better posture than your average troll. "This one should fit you." he said, passing Adrian a uniform.
Adrian stared at it, while Urg changed into a very large uniform that was probably meant for an alien of some sort. In any case, it had a few too many sleeves. When Urg had finally decided which armhole to use, he glanced back at Adrian, who was still staring at the uniform as if it were some sort of mutated lobster that had somehow materialized in his hands.
"Adrian." said Urg gruffly.
Adrian looked up, "Huh?" he said intelligently.
"Change." ordered Urg, "Quickly."
Adrian nodded, and did so, as if in a sort of horrified trance.
"Are you ready?" Without waiting for an answer, Urg opened the silver door at the end of the room and looked around. "It's clear - come on."
Still in a numb, trance-like state, Adrian followed Urg out into the hall. It seemed familiar, like something from a recurring dream that he didn't particularly like, but didn’t hate either.
"Star Trek," he mumbled aloud, as the revelation came to him. He glanced from his uniform to the hallway and back again.
"Yes. You're right. It looks like the inside of the Starship Enterprise."
"We're in space?!"
Urg raised his heavy brows. "I sincerely doubt it. More likely a life-sized model of the ship. However, I have no idea what it's doing in Australia."
"Australia," Adrian muttered. "Wait.... Australia.... as in... kangaroos?"
"Well," mused Urg, "there were kangaroos once, but they are all dead now. Slaughtered in the Great Kangaroo War."
Adrian stared at him. "Oh. And... um, what happened to... the Opera House?"
"Opera has been outlawed in Australia for several hundred years," Urg answered.
"Ah, I see... and what about - "
Adrian abruptly fell silent as a huge hand covered his mouth.
"Shh," Urg warned quietly. "Somebody's coming."
The sound of heels clicking against the floor grew louder, and then someone turned the corner. It was a woman with long black hair and long black nails, wearing a Star Trek uniform much like the one on Adrian, only lower-cut. She hissed rhythmically as she walked. After a moment, Adrian realized that it was in tune with whatever she was listening to on the iPod she wore.
She paid them no attention whatsoever as she went by. Adrian, who hadn't realized he'd been tense, nearly collapsed.
"Keep going," Urg said.
Adrian nodded, and continued down the hall. After a few minutes of walking, in which they encountered a tall, skinny man with six fingers on each hand, and someone that looked like a hobbit, only evil, neither of which paid any attention to them, they emerged into what seemed like a main control room. Various creatures and some people sat around, typing on computers, playing video games and having intense matches of checkers in the corner.
"I'll handle this, shall I?" whispered Urg. Adrian let out an affirmative whimper.
"Excuse me." said Urg loudly, alerting the attention of everyone in the room, who had never before heard a troll use any kind of polite interjection, "If someone would be kind enough to direct us to the exit that would be-"
"We don't leave without the master's permission." said a man who looked like a snake, and sounded like he had something stuck up his nostrils, except that he didn't have nostrils, or a nose for that matter, "Do you have the master's permission?"
"Of course." said Urg, without missing a beat, "Do you really think we'd leave without the master's permission?"
The snake-man hissed quietly and rose from his chair. Adrian could see a complicated formula on the screen behind him. He was obviously one of the only people in the room actually doing work, and it seemed to have put him in a bad mood.
"Do you have written permission?" he hissed, trying, and failing to intimidate the troll.
"Of course." said Urg coolly, "Let me get it for you."
Adrian made an odd choking noise. He seemed to have swallowed his tongue.
Urg was, obviously, much less nonchalant than he seemed. When he had left Australia, several years ago, the portal had been in the meat-locker of another Wall-mart, so as not to confuse people, and he had not been prepared to emerge in a life-sized replica of the Starship Enterprise. Not wanting to scare Adrian, whom Urg personally thought, looked like he might expire if he received one more scare, Urg had confidently ordered the stunned librarian around, all the while thinking calmly of the best possible route of action to ensure that they both got out of the space-ship with all of their limbs intact.
Permission? He thought, written permission? Who was this master guy anyway? A lawyer? He reached for his belt, and, not surprisingly, did not find any written permission slips. He did, however, find a gun.
Poor Adrian, he thought sadly, he really doesn't deserve all of this.

They had nearly reached the door when somebody moved to stop them.
"The master -" began the snake-man, and then noticed that there was a smoking hole in the centre of his chest. It hadn't been there before, and he wasn't sure that he liked it.
"Oh," said Adrian faintly. "The guns.... they work."
"Yes," affirmed Urg. "Great shot, by the way."
"I - I didn't mean to.... it was a reflex, I - "
"Come on, the others are after us now."
They stepped over the snake-man and kept running. Lasers sizzled the air around them, but fortunately, they all had extraordinarily bad aim. Urg turned and ran backwards, firing into the crowd. Although it looked cool, it did little to stop them.
Adrian pounded on the door. "It won't open!"
"Turn the handle!"
"Oh."
They rushed through, slamming the door shut behind them.
"We're not out yet!" Urg yelled. A troll yelling is quite loud, and Adrian winced. "Keep running!" Urg gave Adrian an encouraging shove that nearly knocked him off of his feet, and they continued their flight down another hallway.
"Just where do you think you're going?" a new voice asked.
Urg pushed the overweight boy aside and kept going.
I will remember this!"
But Urg and Adrian didn't notice, because they had already gone outside.

"Master!" snapped Maxwell, storming into the office, pudgy body almost shaking with rage. "One of your minions just pushed me into the wall!"
"Huh?" said Master, the man formally known as Sebastian Quincel, Lord of Darkness. He wore a Star Trek uniform, which was the dress code on the Enterprise, and was slouching in his chair so that a strip of pasty belly fat oozed above his belt. It went well with the stubble on his face and the hand thrust into a bag of cheesies. "My minions wouldn't do that."
"I'll show you!" Maxwell shoved a pile of wrappers off of the keyboard to a nearby computer. In a minute he had accessed the surveillance cameras. "Look," he commanded, with all the righteous anger that a ten-year-old can muster. "There."
Master leaned forward and peered at the screen as Maxwell rewound and played the incident.
"I don't know these guys." Master leaned back.
"Hey, what?"
Suddenly, the master's door opened, and the hobbit-like creature with glowing red eyes entered. "Master!" he gasped. "There were... two intruders, they escaped...."
Maxwell gasped, and looked quickly at Sebastian, to see his reaction. To Maxwell's disgust, the Lord of Darkness burped and plunged his hand back into the bag of cheesiest. "Well did they take anything?" he asked, his mouth full of orange goo.
"Er..." said the hobbit, "No, but..."
"Well, then don't bother me." replied Sebastian, turning back to the television, which played nothing but endless repeats of every Star Trek episode ever aired, and two that never had been aired, due to general crappiness.
A disgusted look crept its way over Maxwell's face. "Master," he said impatiently, "Don't you think-"
His Master's small, unfocussed eyes shifted to the small, chubby boy standing next to him. "What?" he said, "Why are you still here? Shouldn't you be, fixing me ice cream or something? Isn't that what minions do?"
Maxwell’s pudgy chest swelled in anger, "I am not your minion." he spat, "I'm your assistant. And I'm only that because I'm too young to even be considered for the position of Lord of Darkness, but I could certainly do a much better job of it than you!"
He was very lucky that Sebastian was too engrossed in his television to hear him, otherwise Maxwell would not have been allowed to stomp out of the room in the self-righteous way that he did, plotting revenge on the sorry troll that had dared to shove him, Maxwell the Great, out of the way.

"Well." said Urg jauntily, "That wasn't so bad, now was it?"
Adrian made a strange noise and tripped over a rock. When he regained his balance and glanced over at Urg, he saw that the troll had shed the uniform already, keeping only the belt and the gun in the attached holster.
"Aren't you getting changed?" Urg asked.
Adrian began to peel off the uniform top. "Um... where are we going now?" He folded the top and, seeing nowhere else to put it, left it on a rock.
"The Magic Forest." Urg looked around. The Enterprise was only a pale smudge in the distance, and so far there didn't seem to be an army of evil marching forth from it.
"Oh. Uh... when can I go home?"
Urg seemed surprised. "You want to go home? Ninjas, Adrian. Do you not remember the ninjas?"
"Hmm, ninjas or laser-toting demons?" Adrian said, getting angry. "Honestly, I've always wanted to visit Australia, but it doesn't seem to be to my taste, so why don't we go back home and hide at my mother's for a while?"
"Because," Urg explained patiently, "the only way back is through the Enterprise. Unless, of course, there is another portal that I am unaware of, which is what we are going to find out."
"I see..." Very put out, Adrian left the uniform on the ground and followed Urg as the lawyer made his way towards the trees in the distance. It seemed that his fate was to be staring at a troll's back for the rest of his life; he may as well make the best of it. The flowers around them were very pretty. Yes, and... damnit, he wanted to go back home!
"I think you'll like the forest," Urg said kindly, interrupting Adrian's inner tantrum. "It's generally quite calm."
"Oh. Good."
"Yes."

Despite being visible, the forest was another half an hour's walk, which annoyed Adrian, but not enough to make him say anything intelligible, so the walk was very quiet. After a while, Urg started to explain some things to Adrian.
"This isn't really Australia," he said, "At least, not the one that you know."
"I gathered that." said Adrian, with a spurt of annoyed sarcasm.
"Right." said Urg, "Well, this is actually another world, which we reached through the portal in Wall-mart. By a coincidence, it’s also called Australia."
"Right." said Adrian, "But you had kangaroos here."
"That’s right." said Urg, "Before the Great Kangaroo War."
"And what was that about?" asked Adrian.
"I'm not actually sure." replied Urg, "I wasn't educated as a child. I was a troll, after all."
"Aren't you still a troll?" asked Adrian, with a sense of foreboding that seemed to originate from the fact that if Urg had decided he wasn't a troll anymore, there wasn't really anything anyone could do about that. However, he had introduced himself as a troll, right?
"Oh yes." said Urg, lightly, "Look we're coming up to the forest. Keep an eye out for skinny people in tights. They should be able to help us."
"Uh." said Adrian, "Okay."
They didn't really need to keep an eye out, as the elves weren't hard to find. They were, after all, singing. To birds. Adrian almost puked.
"You'll never make it in the Elf kingdom with a stomach like that." Urg commented to Adrian, before calling out a "Hello there!" to the two legging-clad figures.
They disappeared. Well, not literally, Adrian saw them slip behind a couple of trees, but they had obviously been going for the disappearing effect.
Urg sighed.
"Do you think they saw us, Ura?" came a whisper from behind one of the trees.
"Sh." was the whispered reply, "Shut up they'll hear you."
Urg sighed again. Motioning Adrian to stay put, he walked up to the two trees and said conversationally, "Hello Uramom, Good Morning, Urafaes."
Grumbling, the two elves appeared from behind the trees, looking very disgruntled. Urg looked amused. Uramom was tall, blond, and prattish-looking. Urafaes was tall, with dark hair and glasses. They were obviously brothers.
"We need to get to the Elf Kingdom," Urg informed them. "It's a matter of great importance."
"First, you must recite the sacred oath, the Espazatakh, swearing to never harm one of our kind or the trees that we love!" ordered Uramom, crossing his arms.
"No, they don't," sighed Urafaes. "Urg is acknowledged as a friend of the elves."
"And Adrian here is part of the matter of great importance," added Urg.
Adrian slowly walked up. The elves stared down their noses at him.
"A human," said Uramom disdainfully.
"Yes," Adrian returned sarcastically. "What excellent perception you have, Uraidiot." He really didn't like elves so far. And he hated being looked down on for something so stupid as being human. It wasn't as if he could help it.
Uramom sniffed and pointedly ignored Adrian. "Shall we go, then?" Without waiting for an answer, he pranced off and disappeared into the trees.
"He'll come back when he gets bored," Urafaes reassurred Urg, although the lawyer hadn't looked particularily concerned. With that, they made their way deep into the forest.
"So." said Urafaes, "Whats this matter of great importance?"
"Ninjas." said Adrian.
"Excuse me?" replied Urafaes.
"Actually," said Urg, glaring at Adrian, "There seems to be a Starship Enterprise built over top of the portal."
Urafaes looked disturbed. "Yes." he said darkly, "We know about that. It’s the Lord of Darkness's doing."
"The Lord of Darkness?" said Urg, "I thought he was defeated in the Kangeroo War."
"Yes well," said Urafaes, with an annoyed sigh, "Apparently someone got around to hiring a new one."
Uramom skipped up to them in that annoying way that elves do, seeming to be over any discontentment he had been suffering previously. "Actually," he said, "They've had the job offer out for ages, but no one wanted it. I think everyone thought of it as a joke, actually. This Sebastian guy was the first one desperate enough to apply for it. Apparently his mom kicked him out of the house."
"And you know all this how?" said Adrian.
"I just know, human." said Uramom, "When you're as old as I am, you just know things."
"He has a computer." sighed Urafaes, "He never gets off."
Uramom glared at his brother. "Oh, thanks." he said sarcastically, "Way to ruin it for me."
Everyone was quiet for a moment. Adrian was trying to wrap his head around the fact that elves had computers, and that the Lord of Darkness's mom had kicked him out of the house.
"Well." said Urafaes finally, "What can we do for you, then?"
"I think we'd like to talk to the king of the elves." said Urg.
"Oh." said Urafaes darkly.
"Is there a problem?" asked Urg, politely.
"Well, no." said Urafaes, "Not particularly, just you might have a bit of trouble reaching him, courtesy of him being dead and all."
"The king is dead?" said Urg.
"Yeah." said Urafaes, "High cholesterol. Horrible, really."
"Yes, I can imagine." said Urg, "So then, who is in charge now?"
"His son." said Urafaes shortly.
"Urafaet?" said Urg.
"No." said Urafaes, "Percival."
Urg drew back in horror, then managed to compose himself. "Why?"
"Well... our father had left several years ago on a Mysterious Mission, and when King Bearthkantral died, we assumed that our father was dead. He returned, but by then, Percival had been crowned."
"So... the Elf King's... your uncle?" Adrian asked.
Uramom gave him a haughty look, the elven equivalent of 'no duh'. "Yes. He is. And the Elf King would have been our father, if only - "
"Uramom," Urafaes said, interupting what sounded like a favorite rant. "Never mind it."
Uramom muttered something unelven-sounding under his breath, then in a louder voice announced: "Well, we're here, human. Prepare to be amazed. Behold the City of the Elves!"
With that, they stepped out of the forest and beheld, as promised, the City of the Elves.
"Oh." said Adrian.
"Yes, I know. You have never seen the likes. Count yourself blessed, human!" With a smug glance down at Adrian, Uramom bounded off.
Adrian looked up at the tall apartment buildings around him. "Well... it's... cleaner than on my world," he murmured.
The palace was taller than the rest of the buildings, and had a flag flying from the top of it. When they stepped inside, Adrian was surprised to see not a carpetted lobby, but a lush garden. A path ran through the garden to the elevator on the far wall. They got in, and Urafaes pressed the button for the fifth floor.
The fifth floor looked like how Adrian had imagined an elven throne room would look like, if he ignored the group of businessmen giving a powerpoint presentation.
"Oh!" exclaimed the king, sitting up straighter in his ornate silver throne. He was tall, thin, and had long blonde hair. He wore a golden crown, a velvet tunic, and, to Adrian's undying delight (not) a pair of bright paisley tights.
"Hello, Percival," said Urg with a tight smile.
Percival leaped off of his throne and ran to grip Urg's hands tightly. "Urg! It has been too long! And, by the way, it's King Percival now." He released Urg's hands to strike a pose and point to the crown. "See? I never thought I would be king, but fortune smiles down upon me!"
"Yes." said Urg slowly, "I can see that. Listen, Percival, about the Lord of Darkness..."
Percival laughed ditzily, and pranced around a bit, "I know, isn't he just adorable, the way he's turned the portal into a space ship and everything."
"It's not adorable." said one of the businessmen, who were all very annoyed at being interrupted, "The Lord of Darkness has taken over much of Australia with his minions of evil creatures, and animated suits of armour-"
"Animated what?" said Urg cautiously.
"Suits of armour. We're still not sure how he does it." said the businessman, "As far as we know, the position of Lord of Darkness does not come with evil supernatural powers, but we know very little about the enemy, so-"
"Are you staying for dinner?" interrupted Percival, "We're having gummy bears and pickles!"
"Er-" said Urg, "I think we'll just... eat out."
"Wouldn't dream of it." beamed Percival, "Everyone loves gummy bears, of course! You must stay in the palace guest room! Dinner is going to be a great event! There are people from all over coming for some interesting event-type thing! It’s so exciting!"
"They are coming," muttered Urafaes, through clenched teeth, "to discuss our options concerning the Lord of Darkness. We've been planning it for weeks."
"Yes!" said Percival, "An event-type thing! Now, please, Urg, skip along to your rooms, these nice men were just talking about perfumants in the air!"
"Pollutants in the air." muttered the businessman with a longsuffering look towards Urg and Adrian. He was an easygoing sort of guy, with short dark hair, streaked blond, and of course, pointed ears. "I suppose we'll see you at dinner tonight."
"Yes." said Urg, "I suppose we will."
"I will take you to the guest room," said Urafaes, turning and heading out of the throne room.
As they left, Adrian could hear Percival saying, "Oh, rain! I love rain!"
"Acid rain..."
Then, to his relief, they returned to the elevator. Adrian felt that the further he was from those paisley tights, the better.
On the seventh floor, he and Urg were brought to a suite. It was very nice, with separate bedrooms, and several ornamental fountains that reminded Adrian that he had neglected to use the washroom for several hours now. Fortunately, there was a washroom as well. The toilet played a rendition of "My Heart Will Go On" when he flushed. When he came out, Urafaes was gone.
"He went to find you some appropriate questing clothes," Urg explained.
"Eh?" Adrian replied.
"It seems that the only portal to your world is indeed the one within the Dark Master's uniform closet," Urg said. "And there is only one item that can defeat him - we must find it. That requires, unfortunately, a Quest."
"Oh." Adrian flopped down on the bed. He felt very tired and rather thirsty. He glanced over at a fountain, wondering if it would be all right to drink from a stream of water being poured by a naked woman. Suddenly, he realised that a real woman was watching him.
Adrian sat up quickly, got a horrible head rush, and lay back down.
"Hello, Mira," Urg said. "What brings you here?"
Mira, who Adrian now realised was only a teenager despite being very tall and very pretty (besides having a sprinkling of zits across her cheeks), made a face. "I hear that you went to see my father, and he was, of course, no help at all. So I shall help you instead." She crossed her arms (looking a bit like Uramom) and raised her chin obstinately.
"I won't try to convince you otherwise," Urg said.
Mira, obviously prepared to defend her decision, opened her mouth, closed it again, then let her arms drop to her sides. "Oh. Good."
Urg sighed and sat down on the end of the bed, loosening his tie as he did so. "This is going to be a long week."
Mira shrugged. "It's about time we took some action against the Dark Master. I don't think I can stand these toilets much longer, I'm desperate to get away." She drifted over to the window, glanced out of it, and slammed the curtains closed. "Ugh, it's going to rain. Acid rain, probably. Father will be delighted."
"Princess Mira," Urg began. Mira shuddered violently. "Just Mira, then. Do you have any idea where we should begin our search for The Item? We should get it over with as quickly as possible, before Adrian's evil wife convinces everyone that he is dead and takes control of his assets."
Mira raised an eyebrow. "His what?"
"My house." said Adrian quickly.
"Oh." she said in a strange voice, "Right then. Well, I think some of the people showing up at dinner tonight might know where it is."
"You mean we have to go?" said Adrian, "I was looking forward to... something other than gummy bears and pickles."
Mira laughed, "Only my father eats that. We've got other food too."
"That still means being in the same room as him." said Urg, voicing Adrian's thoughts.
Mira scrunched up her face. "Oh sure." she said, "Must be really awful, being in the same room with him for one night. I have to live with him you know."
Urg sighed, and shook his massive head resignedly. "Right." he said, "We'll be there."
"We will?" said Adrian, sitting up quickly, despite his head rush.
"Yes." said Urg, "If you want to get back to Earth we will."
"Great." said Adrian. "How about this? I stay here with the singing toilets, and you go get... whatever it is I need to get back."
Urg grinned disconcertingly. "Of course, Adrian." he said soothingly, "I'd forgotten that with us all gone, King Percival will need someone to keep him company. You'd do wonderfully, I'm sure."
Adrian lay back down on the bed. A bunch of horrible complaints and insults came to his head unbidden, as they always did when he was angry, but he pushed them back and settled for, "Fine. I'll go with you on your stupid quest. But I won't like it."
"Thats the spirit." said Urg, "Lets get ready for dinner."
Right on cue, Urefaes returned with a bundle of clothes. “Please hurry,” he said. “Dinner is almost ready.”

Dinner was held on the roof of the palace where, not surprisingly, there was another lush garden. However, as promised, it had started to rain, so several elves were now working to construct a canopy out of bamboo sticks and large blue tarps.
In the centre of the garden was a long table made, apparently, out of pure gold. Percival sat at the head, chatting with several other pratty-looking elves. Urg led Adrian to a group of more conservatively dressed elves and said quite grandly, “Adrian, it is time for you to meet… Your fate.”
“That’s Urafaet,” said the elf, frowning good naturedly at the troll. “I really wish you would give that up, Urg. Besides, we’ve already met.”
They had indeed, realized Adrian. Urafaet was the modern-looking dark haired elf who had been petitioning against acid rain earlier. He looked a bit too young to be the proper king of the Elf Kingdom, never mind Uramom and Urafaes’ father, but he was an elf, and apparently, without excessive consumption of gummy bears and pickles, they could stay young-looking forever.
Urafaet shook hands with Urg, and then with Adrian. “So you’re going to be helping with the quest, eh?” he said, looking Adrian over, “Well, I wish you luck.”
“Um.” Said Adrian, “Thanks.”
At that moment, Percival called the meeting to order by yelling, “Look, food! Let’s eat!”
As Urg had promised, there was much more to eat than just Percival’s favorites. Elves were apparently not vegetarians, as there were large servings of steak, roast beef, turkey, salmon and randomly, maple-flavoured bacon. There were also several kinds of salad, casseroles, Yorkshire pudding, mashed potatoes and much, much more.
About five minutes into dinner, there was a large commotion from the end of the table by a large, hairy man who looked like he had never showered in his life. He had grabbed one of the small elf servers by the scruff of the neck and demanded, “Raw meat! I want raw meat! I Vladislav! I eat only Raw Meat!”
The poor server squeaked affirmatively and managed to slide out of Vladislav’s grip. Adrian wouldn’t be surprised if the young elf was traumatized for the rest of his life.
“Ah, yes!” laughed Percival from the other end of the table, “This is King Vladislav Who Eats Raw Meat! He’s the representative from the human colonies to the north! He’ll be going with you on your quest!”
No one really stopped to realize that Percival had used several large words in this sentences in this sentence, because they were all to horrified at the idea of doing anything with the large, uncouth human.
Vlasislav roared something incoherent and grinned, revealing a bit of casserole in his teeth, which were a becoming shade of brown. He raised his delicate elven goblet, filled to overflowing with wine, and chugged it back.
“Oh, yes,” Percival giggled. “That Vlady is quite a character. Your quest is going to be so much fun! I almost wish I could go, but alas…” He frowned slightly. “Well, I have several very good and important-type duties here.”
Nobody even listened to him. They were watching Vladislav suck down strips of raw bacon.
Urafaet cleared his throat. “So. I hear that in order to defeat the Dark Lord, you will need an Item of some kind.”
“Er, yes,” said Adrian. “An Item. Um.”
“What he means to say,” Urg translated, “is: what sort of Item should we be looking for, and where could it be?”

Piczo