The Price of Freedom, -For AOC, Hester and Renna-

[E'doa A'nii]

"I don't suppose you'll be more obliging tommorrow." Came the rather eager chuckle, as Cyrvanti Corelli strode away. His voice echoed cruelly, to match the cold sound of his footsteps in the dank dungeon. Two eyes of the purest crystal blue glared back defiance and hate at his retreating back from within the pitch black recesses of the cell. Somewhere far away a heavy wooden door creaked shut.

All was silent.

Closer scrutiny of the being locked within the shadowy cage revealed the small bruised sillouhette of one very battered fairy. She was chained to the wall, having both wrists extended as far as they would go. Her feet were pinned in similar fashion to the floor. A small beam of moonlight filtered in from a window not far away, and cast faint illumination upon the tiny fairy. She was fair skinned and dainty in build; seeming much like a little girl, then a teenager. Her whole body cast a faint glow, reflecting back the light of the moon. Her face was small and round, with a small delicate mouth and large, sensitive blue eyes. Small flame like symbols throbbed a faint orange glow; one on each cheek. A cut ran from just below her temple to her chin. It oozed an angry red. Aurora's soft, curly hair glittered like spun gold, for all the disheveledness of it. About her neck throbs a necklace of very bright blue runes in harmony with the pulsing of her cheeks. Her tattered wings had lost any sparkle they once possessed; the thin skin hanging in strips from the crusty edges. A few small white bones protruded from the semi-transparent skin emphasizing the damage done to her wings. Her arms were quite bruised; having many small cuts in several places. Her delicate red fire tunic was filthy, and hung gracefully about her form; stopping just above her ankles. About her ankles were a delicate pair of grecian sandals. The ties started somewhere above her knee and wrapped themselves down her leg ending in a dainty slipper-like shoe.

The fairy seemed to have a distant look in her once defiant blue eyes; the sort of look one gets when one is remembering. And indeed she was:

Slowly, the walls about her gave way to a beautiful night in a town by the name of Erlimer. It was a small little village that sat on a hill just above a windswept valley. It really had been a beautiful night: Bright stars, large silvery moon...pleasant breeze. She had been perched atop a pile of crates staring at the sky and enjoying the peacefulness of the night. One thing about the Overworld... you didn't get nights like this anywhere else. She took a deep breath of the cool night air. Slowly, she released it; savoring it. She was about to repeat this act, when a cry reached her ears.

It sounded something like 'HELP!'. But it was rather garbled and not horribly intelligable. Aurora was off from her perch in an instant, landing lightly on her feet. Her small strides brought her swiftly along as she searched about for the sound of the noise. Deftly she doged through villagers and weaved 'round wagons with horses. The garbled noise came again. This time much closer.

Rosie looked about frantically. It had to have been a cry of distress. No other cry could possibly sound that urgent. Somewhere, in the corner of her eye, a shadow flitted. The Night Force. There was only one group who would work so subtly like that. In an instant, the little fairy was all action. Golden sparkles flew from a slender wand as pure white as snow. Objects came to life- a silent army of another world. They glowed fitfully in the dark, providing a decent enough obstacle course for the assailants. One by one, shadows began to change. They went from being shadows, to being blobs darker then the nighttime darkness itself. The blobs shifted and became silouhettes of men. The silouhettes shifted and became men.
One man dropped another, who landed with a groan; but before anyone could reach him for better or worse, he was gone.

Aurora was alone.

The Night Force couldn't have been more then twenty tonight. Not such bad odds...
Her sword seemed to leap into her hand with a will of it's own, fire arcing from the blade. In an instant she was among the agents of the Night Force; a spark in the night, scattering the shadow like chaff to the wind. She did not have much difficulty fighting them, for darkness receeds from fire because of the light it holds. The battle could not have lasted more then twenty minutes. As the last of the Night Force faded away, Aurora Rose sheathed her sword and prepared to walk away.

She should not have turned her back.

The ground beneath her feet trembled. It rocked. The effect was much like a small earthquake; not quite enough to actually topple any buildings, just strong enough to give everyone a good scare. Tendrils of darkness oozed out from under an upright barrel. They snaked out till they met just infront of Aurora's feet. The fairy moved to blast the formation with fire.

"Ah ah. I wouldn't do that." A mischievious and evil voice resonanted from within, followed by a dark chuckle.

Aurora Rose crossed her arms and waited. When Cyrvanti told you not to do something it was probably a trap either way. No point in blasting his entrance. She would rather fight him on her own terms. Her in town was her own terms. Wherever his portal led would no doubt be a disadvantage for her.

Out of the portal rose a tall, darkly handsome man, with chisel cut features on a strong, square face. His thick black hair rested on his head like a fluffy cloud, softening his look somewhat. He wore a dark purple, almost black set of flowing robes. (A disguise that hid the vast amount of muscle on his broad body). About his shoulders swung a pitch black cape which rippled like water in the faint evening breeze. Just at his throat glistened a large ruby clasp at which the cape was attatched. In his hand was his ever present staff, and sturdy weapon. A large, murky, inverted teardrop tapered off onto a staff of pure onyx, laced with silver. Small curved peices of silver branched out around the teardrop, almost like petals on a flower.

Cyrvanti crossed his arms and sneered. "I have you." he might as well have called her a sucker.

"Not yet." It would take more then a little fire and magic to vanquish this man. What she needed was light.

The faintly glowing little woman reached long delicate fingers to the flame symbols on her face. For a moment, nothing happened. The all at once she began to glow. At first, the glow was not very much more then her usual glow. But it began to get stronger very, very rapidly, until it was bright enough to bathe almost the entire town in a warm golden light. Aurora herself seemed to shift and change. At first she seemed to burst into flame. A woman on fire. But then, the flame began to shift from her middle out. Her arms burst into long wings of flame. Her feet tranformed into the deadly talons of a bird. The faerie's head dissapeared, and with a mighty roar her body shot up towards heaven, till the great head of a bird towered above the town at an imposing one hundred feet.

The pheonix gave a great squawk and spread it's wings in a manner of stretching. The ground beneath it began to melt. Miraculously the rest of the area was spared destruction, despite the falling sparks and the long reach of her extensive wingspan. The Guardian Pheonix was not in the habit of slaughtering innocents.

Cyrvanti did not react to the impressive display he had just witnessed. If anything, his smirk grew.

"I was hoping you'd do that." The unnerving, steely blue eyes of the pheonix seemed to bore into his very soul. But the evil despot did not flinch.

His staff pulsed a very faint blue aura for the briefest of seconds, cutting the Pheonix's sqwak short and replacing it with an unearthly gurgle of pain. With amazing rapidity (and much faster then she had transformed) the Pheonix found herself, once again a fairy. Smoke wafted about her from the ten foot radious of melted ground, in the center of which, she stood. Only this time, she was bent over, gasping and clutching her throat, tears streaming down her cheeks. Searing pain seemed to burn her asophagus, and tear at her internal workings for an eternity. In reality the pain lasted only a moment.
Her antagonist casually reached out and grabbed her by the wrist, whisking her off into the darkness...and the dungeon

The walls about her seemed to pound into her subconsious reminding her of reality... and the saying that no good deed goes unpunished. Cyrvanti had been counting on her unfailing tendancy to save life. He had trapped her with it. That was two weeks ago. Two weeks of torture and misery. He wanted her powers. He would drain them all away and then destroy her. In one form or another she was not very powerful. But with both forms together, she was unstoppable. And Cyrvanti knew it...

[Old Hester]

The fourth time Joshua saw the Gaffer was by the sea in Amalterre. Here, in a fig grove Joshua perched beneath the canopy of a small fig tree, lolling in the midday sun. His snout was dry but it was far too hot to put effort into wetting it, so, he simply lay there.

“Heehe. I see your becoming more and more piggish Joshua dear boy.”

The pigs eyes sprang open and he raised his head. Nobody.

“Up here pinky!”

He craned his neck. In the branches of the fig tree sat a seagull. Flick. It became a muddy little man. The man grinned toothlessly.

Joshua sighed. “Oh… it’s you.”

The muddy man cackled. “Don’t hide the disappointment! I thought you’d be happy to see me Joshy! Tee haa hee. After all, this means your one step closer to becoming human again.”

Joshua pawed the root of the tree. “Not yet… I still have to complete the favour.”

The man cackled again. “True! True indeedy-oh. What’s this-” He stopped and began counting on his fingers. “- the fourth favour Joshua? Just one more. Ha ha ho! You should be thrilled!”

“Just get on with it Gaffer.”

The muddy man - the Gaffer - stopped and frowned. He wrinkled his nose and spat. His spit was thick and brown and nasty. It landed with a glomp on a branch of the tree and immediately became a writing, worming host of maggots. “Your no fun at all Joshua. Very well…”

[Old Hester]

Flick. The muddy little man became a cobra. He swayed for a moment and then began winding his way down round the tree until he was level with Joshua. He stared at the pig through thinly slit eyes.

“An acquaintance of mine-” he began. He tongue darted between his teeth and brushed Joshua between the eyes. The real world faded away replaced by an eerie image of a hovering girl; the Gaffer’s acquaintance. She was so petite that the smallest gust of wind could probably shatter her.

“- a faerie, has come into a spot of bother recently.” The Gaffer’s voice echoed in Joshua’s ear. “Take note of her Joshua dear. Remember exactly what she looks like.”

The image of the faerie faded and once again Joshua was in the real world with the Gaffer wavering in front of him. Flick. The cobra became an enormous floating mask. It was exotic, the kind the savages wore on Rith. “Do you remember Joshua?”

Joshua nodded and recited what he had seen. “Blond hair. Faerie. Funny red and gold tunic. Little wings.”

“Good!” boomed the Gaffer. Flick. He became the muddy little man once more and was back in the branches of the fig tree. “Now don’t forget.” He grinned and clapped.

“So… what do I have to do this time Gaffer? Kill the faerie?”

The Gaffer threw his head back and laughed. “Tee hee haa hoo! No, no Joshua boy! I’m no murderer. Your fortunate in that sense; I’d never ask you to kill anyone.” He stopped laughing and looked down. “I’d just make them do it themselves. It’s much more fun.” Joshua shuddered.

“Anyways, its quite the opposite. I want you to save the girly, not kill her…” He trailed off in a mutter.

“What was that?”

The Gaffer looked at his fingernails and muttered again.

“Sorry?”

“Oh alright! I owe her. My life. You have to save her, and keep her alive till she’s in better company than a pigs. Understand my deary? You fail you die. Or worse; you’ll remain a pig for eternity.”

The Gaffer didn’t change for the rest of the time he spent with Joshua beneath the fig tree he was too busy explaining, in detail, the entrance to the Underworld (where this faerie girl lived and was captured) which could be found in Erenor, in a forest, how to get there and where to find the Faerie once he was through. It was almost dusk when the Gaffer finished briefing Joshua and before he disappeared with a crack and the stench of magic he had a gift for the pig-boy.

“What is it?” Joshua asked.

It was a leather collar and strapped to it was a cylindrical leather case.

“Just something to help.” The Gaffer was disgusted with himself and didn’t bother trying to hide it. Generosity? He tormented generous people. Did it for fun. All the time. “Open it when your fucked; when your sure as hell can be that your ribs are gonna be spare. Don’t fucking waste it pig-brains, things like that don’t come cheap. Try not to use it at all.”

Joshua wasn’t sure what to say. Thankfully the Gaffer didn’t want him to say anything at all; that would have just made his abhorrent generosity worse. The collar and its case lifted itself from the Gaffer’s outstretched hand and tied itself round Joshua’s neck.

Without another word, not even a goodbye or good luck, the Gaffer was gone. In his place hung the heavy smell of magic. Joshua crinkled his nose. It stank.

He flexed his wings and sprang into the air. Westward the sun set. Above and everywhere else night was already laying its star studded blanket across the world. Joshua flew north.

OoC: A post or two more and I'll be there! Promise.

[Old Hester]

Angel of Once Paths read the plaque pinned outside the office cubicle. It was decorated with post-it drawings of flowers, rabbits and stencilled fairies. Inside the otherwise empty cubicle, leaning back on a swivel-chair, lounged a sinewy man in bright makeup and colourful hair. He was reading a book. It’s title was 25 Cats Name Sam and One Blue Pussy by Andy Warhol. His lips darted across a well chewed HB pencil and he chuckled as he read the book, dropping the pencil repeatedly.

Camp was in this millennium.

“I‘ve got a Summons for you Path.” A short woman stood in the doorway of the cubicle marked Angel of Once Paths brandishing a canister. She had big red hair and wore incredibly bright and pointy stilettos. Her skirt was extremely revealing.

Path was the man in the chair and Path set down his book. He stood and took the can off the stiletto woman, thanking her. He left his pencil and book on the swivel-chair and opened the canister. A small sheet of red paper fluttered out onto his hand. He read it and giggled. It had to be said, nothing could ever dampen Path’s mood. The entire office always said it.

He shook himself and for a moment his glamour faded. He reappeared seconds later in drag; a bright red dress, stilettos, absurd makeup and an absurd wig and fake silicone breasts stuffed inside his dress.

With the red paper slip in hand he marched out of his cubicle and down the long isle of other cubicles toward the elevator.

A Summons was a rare opportunity to leave the office and actually interact with mortals and Path was flaunting his glamour for all it was worth. And why not? It had cost a bundle. He had every right.

The elevator doors slid open just as he reached them and several other camp-glamoured Angels emptied it. Path bounced in and gave his best smile to the elevator demon. It glared at the Angel.

“Where to Sir - er - I mean Ma’am?”

Path held the slip out to the demon. It grunted and turned to the elevator keypad, tapped its claws across several buttons. The doors slid closed with a hiss.

Path had never been to Abydos (he was new. The Angel he replaced had been.), he giggled excitedly. The demon glared.

*

The elevator landed beside a brook with a ding. The doors slid open and Path skipped out gracelessly. Behind him the doors slid closed and the elevator was gone. He looked down and shrieked.

“Oh aren’t you the cutest little pig ever?!”

Joshua groaned.

[Old Hester]

He was lost in a forest. On a slope. Of a mountain. In Erenor. It had been almost two weeks since he’d left Amalterre and the Gaffer behind and still, with a week lost to the journey, he had not found the entrance to this ‘Underworld’. Then again, the Gaffer’s instructions had been vague.

“In any forest in Erenor, at any time, appears the portal to the Underworld.” It left a enormous amount of stones unturned.

But Joshua had a feeling about this forest. A good feeling. It was rare that he got good feelings about anything and the few times he did he liked to follow them; they led to good things.

So far though this good feeling had led to nothing. So, for the first time since becoming a pig, Joshua prayed. It was answered… sort of. In the form of:

“Oh my, little wings and everything! You really are a darling!” Path clapped his knees and bent to take a closer look at the confused Joshua.

“Who’re you?” Josh asked.

Path beamed the brightest beam. His teeth were whiter than pearls. Without straightening up he held the slip of red paper out before Joshua. He couldn’t read it and thought it was some sort of poorly executed joke. He narrowed his eyes at the cross-dressing man before him.

“I can’t read it… Who are you?”

“Oh how silly of me!” Path giggled and stood back. “I forgot it wasn’t legible to mortals.”
“I am the answer to your prayer little Joshua: I am the Angel of Once Paths, Guide to Lost Mortals and Eraser of Forgotten Routes.” It was a nice title and it was met with silence.

Joshua stared at Path and Path stared back expectantly.

“You’re an angel?” Joshua asked.

Path looked crestfallen; he’d been hoping for a couple of words of praise, or even a cry of hallelujah. A falling to the knees would have been nice. I guess Joshua just was not the type.

“Sorry,” said Joshua seeing the hurt look on Path’s face. “I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just… Well I didn’t think angels were the… cross-dressing type.”

“Oh this?” Path looked down at his dress and heels. “It’s just a glamour. I think you’d call it a spell. Camp is all the rage up there at the moment. Every respectable angel has a camp glamour. It’d be awfully unfashionable to be anything other.” He gave Joshua a little flick of his heels just to show him how camp he was.

“By ‘up there’ you mean heaven?”

Path nodded.

“You mean everyone’s like…” Joshua nodded his head at Path. “you up there?”

“Just the angels: the saints and demons aren’t so much into fashion.” He waved his hand at the pig. “Anyways, I’m not supposed to talk about the office outside. Especially with mortals. Sorry my dear.
“Where was I? Oh yes. I, the Angel of Once Paths, Guide to Lost Mortals and Eraser of Forgotten Routes haven descended to light your lost path dear Joshua -”

“Sorry.” He interrupted the Angel. “I’m a little confused… How do you know I’m lost?”

Path pursed his lips. “You prayed didn’t you?”

Joshua thought back and realised he had. “Oh. Yeah.”

Path checked the slip of paper again. “And your looking for the Spring of Desires?”

Joshua nodded.

“Darling. Do not fret, I know the way well.” Path smiled and patted the winged-pig on the head.

*

“Darling, your wings are fabulous. You really must tell me what you do with them.”

Path sat on a large twisting root watching Joshua munch on a bush of oddly tinted berries. The pig stopped mid munch and turned to his guiding angel.

“Do you ever shut up?”

He ignored the question. “You know, I sorta miss wings. They were so eight centuries ago though -”

Joshua tuned out and went back to his lunch. When he was full enough he trotted back over to the Angel and nudged him with his snout. Path hopped off the root with a little flourish and began leading once again through the woods. “You never told me why your looking for the Spring of Desires.”

“I know.” Joshua said.

“Oh.”

*

The rock brooded beside a giddy spring. It wasn’t an ordinary rock either as Path pointed out the obvious. Glowing in its cracked and worn surface was carved a rune. Joshua wasn’t sure what it said, he didn’t read runic. Neither did Path.

“Well. Here we are dear. The portal to the Underworld; as promised. Beyond it is the Spring of Desires.”

Joshua stepped forward and examined the rock. It didn’t look particularly dangerous. It looked particularly normal (aside from the silver rune). Had it not been for the Angel nicknamed Path he supposed he’d still be wandering through the forests of Erenor with no hope of finding the portal entrance. He owed him a thanks.

“Thanks.”

“Your fabulous you know that Joshua? Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Eh, your… fabulous too Path. Thanks. Again.”

“Not at all. Here, take this.” He kissed the red slip of paper leaving a bright pink lipstick stain on it, folded it over and tucked it behind Joshua’s collar. “If you ever get lost again, that’s the quickest way to reach me. Here’s my ride.”

Joshua looked behind him at a set of open elevator doors set in thin air. Inside stood a nasty blue demon in a cheap looking suit. Path scuttled over and stepped in. He took one last look at Joshua over his shoulder, winked and pouted. The elevator doors closed with a ding, and he was gone.

Josh sighed. If he didn’t lack the opposable thumbs he would have removed the slip of paper right there and tossed it to the forest. Unfortunately he did lack them and folded neatly inside the collar the paper remained.

He turned and leaned over the rock. This is it, he thought as he touched his nose off the rune. Everything shone silver and the forest disappeared. He tumbled into the Underworld with a squeal.

[E'doa A'nii]

(After this post Renna and AOC may join in.)

(Ok Het. I tried to keep this as Josh-like as possible. I apologize if he's done anything out of character for him.)

-------------

The forest dissapeared and was replaced by a void of deepest blackness at the end of which lay a mottled speck of blue, green, yellow and silver, which got bigger and more visible as Joshua tumbled along. -The ride lasted only a couple of seconds though it may have seemed a bit longer. -

Soon the little speck at the end of the tunnel was clearly a lake with flowers and sky. No sooner would this realization occur to our fine piggy friend, then something else would flash across his vision. For no sooner had his little pink snout reached the edge of the endless darkness and began to receive anew the rays of light, then a big flaming ball of fire shot up before his eyes, giving a terrific shriek, much like that of a bird, and blasting him with terrible heat; heat that felt much like it does to stick one's face in the opening of a hot oven. Not quite hot enough to leave a burn, but certainly hot enough to make a point.

And then Joshua's body came tumbling through the hole and landed in a soft clump of grass, with no injury except the "oof" which is generally given when one's landing is abrupt. (Underworld grass is much softer then ours, and feels more like thistle down or kitten's fur then blades of crunchy grass.)

Joshua got up and shook himself, checking to see if everything was in tact. His feet were there. Good. He craned his neck and saw his springy tail. Good. He gave his wings a little shake.

Yup. All there and still breathing.

Josh couldn't resist one more look to see if the portal was still there. He found that it was not, and no trace of the fire ball remained either.

Well, that was good. Maybe whatever it was would leave him alone then.

Joshua scanned the landscape taking in the strange world before him. The grass was green enough, and soft enough for a prince to sleep in. The sky was a gorgeous shade of blue with not a cloud in sight. And before him sat a wide lake, with water silver enough to be mercury, yet clear enough to see straight through to the bottom. The Spring of Desires.

A soft mist rolled off the lake and stroked the brightly colored flowers around it; bejeweling them in diamonds of condensated water.

If indeed the stuff was water.

The air hung heavy with the scent of flowers. Such scents mingled together and created something wonderful. A sort of euphoria for the nose. Behind Joshua could be seen the sillouhuette of the Lost Forest, and before him could be seen a rocky desert. Behind the lost forest rose a never ceasing column of smoke, which did not seem to indicate a forest fire. To the left and right lay tall cliffs, which the pool touched at both edges. Vines climbed the rocky cliff face and gave off flowers of their own; adding to the rich scent in the air.

In the center of the silver lake sat a very small boat, on which sat a very small being who played Hush! The Waves are Rolling In on an even smaller wooden flute.

As Josh drew closer to the lake, he saw that the little creature looked much like a pink snail, and the boat very much as if it were carved from bark with a leaf for a sail.

[Old Hester]

“Er, hello?”

Joshua’s voice carried out across the lake like a skipping stone. He wasn’t sure what else to do but to call to the snail creature in its bark boat. Whoever or whatever they were he supposed they couldn’t be too bad, not after Path. He hoped the snail-creature would hear. He pawed the shore uneasily.


[OoC: About a year too late... Really sorry about this. Long long story as to why I've been gone. Exams and computerless are only two hurdles. Sorry again.]

[E'doa A'nii]

(np.)

The snail stopped playing and all was silent save for the harmonious chirping of the birds. After a moment, the little boat floated over to the edge of the murcury-like lake and the snail climbed off. Climbing off took a moment...or two..or three. The snail was pretty slow.

So it was after a few moments of Silence that the snail approached Joshua (who was not so very far from shore anyway). "What brings you here?"...

In the absence of the Guardian Pheonix, just about anyone could enter the portal. Mite, was the second guardian of the third portal. This being the third portal, here he was. He was not as powerful as the Fire Fairy, because bing a guardian was his second job. His first job was ferrying people across the lake.

As such, he was a little unimposing. All the same he tried his hardest to look mighty and waited for an answer.

[Old Hester]

“I’m looking for the Great Wastes. Or the heart of them…” Joshua hesitated somewhat; it wouldn’t be the first time the Gaffer had given him false instructions to follow. He hated being so unsure of himself.

“Who’re you?” For the first creature he encountered in a world which the Gaffer described as ‘guarantied death’ he was quite unimpressive.

[E'doa A'nii]

"The Great Wastes!" The snail gasped. "Great Myrtles!" One of his antennaes rubbed his head in astonishment. No one went looking for the Great Wastes. No one. Not unless they served Cervanti Corelli. Either that or they were incredibly stupid. Anyone who ventured across the border of the vast barreness guranteed his death.

Before he could process the strange request of the equally strange Overworlder, he was being asked his identity. "I am Mite Maximillian Anric Speedy-Speedster the Twelfth." At the end of this mouthful, the snail gave a distinguished bow. His antennae twitched self-importantly. "Most people call me Mite." And here he gave a little sniff. Indignant. As if someone would not want to say the sound that was his glorious name. Or perhaps it was because he hated being refferred to as something small and insignificant.

Whatever the case, he was moving on: "And what business would one such as yourself have in the Great Wastes?" The last two words where almost whispered, as if Mite was afraid that the dark one, himself, would materialize and smite him just for mentioning it. Truth be told, he felt that way. Nothing was safe without the Pheonix. Despite reality, the Fire Kingdom had come to look upon her as something nigh invincible. Besides, Mite really hated fighting. He didn't want to be involved in any sort of skirmishes.

He wasn't very powerful anyway.

[Old Hester]

Second ridiculously long name in a day, Joshua noted in his head.

Joshua saw the snail visibly shrink at the mention of the Great Wastes. Damn the Gaffer, he thought. This was sure to be the death of him. “Can’t you just give me the directions?” He asked, shaking his wings impatiently.

[E'doa A'nii]

Directions?! He must be mad. Either he was mad or in league with the despot himself. What to do? what to do? The snail rung his antennae. "Directions?" He parroted lamely. Well, if he didn't know how to get there, he couldn't be an ally of Cirvanti Corelli. "Do you mind if I ask why?"

Stalling.

"Well...I can ferry you accross the Spring." He pointed to the tiny boat that wasn't much bigger then a saucer. The little leaf sail flapped congenially in the gentle breeze as the liquid on which the boat rested sparkled in the sunlight. "From there I can tell you where to go." He offered. It was a start anyway.