The fog had risen and was now wafting into the tower bedroom through the glassless window. The fog was icy cold and left trails of frost trailing over the stone walls. The Phooka shivered.
"Tis strange, how the fog reached so high," he said.
"What do you mean?" Quaraun asked.
"The fog never rises up high enough to reach the tower. And it is so cauld," commented the Phooka. "How odd for this time of year."
"This cold is out of season?"
"Oh yes, completely." The Phooka ran his hands across the stone wall. "And feel the ice crystals on the wall, I did has never known it did that a'forah, not even in the dead of winter. This is an unnatural frost. Strong magic created it. Was it ya? Pale icy wizard Elf from the North. Dids ya did this?"
"No, I didn't do this." Quaraun ran to the window. "It looks like a Lich's frost."
"A Lich's frost?"
"The Lich are cold, they turn everything they touch to ice. The land turns to ice before them as they travel. There is a Lich here. You must tell your people run and scatter, quickly."
"How comes that, eh?"
"It's a Lich! If you want your people to live, do it now."
"A Lich? Here in me forest? Are ya sure?"
"Would you know a Lich if you saw one? Have you ever seen a Lich before?"
"There be never been a Lich in these parts a'forah, not once, not ever, at least, I did has not seen one." For the first time, the Phooka looked scared.
"We must get out of the tower."
"But the tower is safe."
"Do ya see that ice? Does it look like the tower is safe to ya? Nothing is safe from a Lich."
"No, I cannot see the ice...I...we is..."
"What?" It troubled Quaraun, how absolutely terrified the Phooka looked. "This is your forest, think, is there any place else to hide?"
"The caves, at the bottom of the cliffs, but ya can only get in them at low tide."
"The Lich will have frozen the surface of the ocean."
"Aye. Terribly cauld creatures they is, freeze everything they touch."
"Then what do we do?"
“I can't run.”
“No? Too arrogant for it? Have to have ya sveinns run for ya?”
“No. I...” Quaraun hesitated. He didn't want to tell the Phooka he was wounded.
The Phooka did not wait for the Elf to think of an answer. Unicorn grabbed Quaraun's arm and dragged him out of the room and down the stairs. Unfortunately this action, pulled at the muscles in his shoulder, reacting painful with the sore muscles in his back, side, and hip, increasing his levels of pain. The Elf was so flustered, frightened, and confused by what was going on that he made no protest and allowed himself to be dragged off by the Phooka.
"Where are your people?" Quaraun asked the Phooka.
"I do not know. Does not care either. There is no time to find them, the Lich is already upon us. We must go now."
The howls and screams of the other Phookas, echoed through the woods, sending chills through Quaraun.
"Where are we going?"
The Phooka did not answer, he just continued to run, dragging the perplexed Elf with him. The miss matched pair went deeper and deeper into the forest. Quaraun was able to wrench his hand out of the Phooka's grasp and stopped running to catch his breath. Unicorn stopped to watch the tired Elf.
"Where exactly is it we are going?" Quaraun asked the Phooka.
"We is going to the marsh portal."
"The what? What is that exactly?"
"It be a place which will protect us from the Lich fiend. There is an oubliette in the marsh."
"A marsh? Why do we want to go there?"
"To the oubliette."
"An oubliette? What is there an oubliette doing out here in the woods?"
"There twere a castle here once, ya saw the ruins. Below its dungeons twere a tunnel, leading to a cave, deep inside the mountain, at its heart an oubliette. It be cloistered, shrouded somehow, auncient magic I does not know, but it is so well protected that the Lich can not get inside it, not even the most powerful of the Lich Lords cannot penetrate it's shield."
The Phooka grabbed the Elf's arm again and ran through the ruins, till they came to the stairway leading to the dungeons, leading to the tunnels which he had described. Quaraun would have liked to stop and look around this place, for it did, as the Phooka suggested, reeked of strong ancient magic. They continued downward into the ever descending tunnels, until they eventually arrived at a gaping black hole in the ground. The hole was small, only a few feet across. It appeared to be nothing more then a very old abandoned well, that had long ago been grown over with vines and weeds.
"The Oubliette," said the Phooka, pointing to the pit.
"You plan to go down there?"
"How deep is it?"
"I know not."
"It is dark. I can't see the bottom. How do you plan to get down?"
"It looks formidable."
"It is, but it is safe."
"It doesn't feel safe. Dark magic is strong here. Very strong. This place is heavily guarded by a myriad of powerful spells. A lot of them. Made by a lot of different wizards. Several evil sorcerers guarded this hole with a lot of spells. I have never felt such strong magic before."
"Aye. I know. That be why it is safe."
"How do we get past the magic?"
"Yis a Necromancer."
"It would take me days to unlock this, there are so many spells cast on it."
"Ah. Well, it required the spell caster who cast the spells to unlock them temporarily and then lock them back up agains once we is inside."
Quaraun wasn't listening. He never was. Quaraun had an exceptionally short attention span. He rarely listened to anyone past the first sentence and rather then hear what they say started having inner dialogues with himself about anything and everything other then the subject at hand. He had a difficult time paying attention to anything anyone said to him.
Paying attention, being aware of his surrounding, and listening to others were all very poor skills for Quaraun. It did result in his having been caught in traps multiple times in the past. He had the intelligence and skills to identify magic traps, but he was too trusting of most people he met and wasn't overly inclined to suspect anyone of doing anything to hurt him, until after they'd already captured him and it was too late to get away. While he was the world's most powerful wizard, and no spell caster could match his skill, he was also probably the world's most stupid and innocently, naive wizard. He saw the good in everyone and never thought to look for the evil, not even in a Phooka, or a Lich, not even after all the times in his life that he had been captured by a Phooka. Because Phookas were shape shifters it also never occurred to him that in all the years of being captured by Phookas over and over again, he might possibly have only ever been captured by one single solitary Phooka that had taking a liking to tormenting the poor stupid Elf, simply because he knew he could.
Quaraun had spent decades hunting down The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley, leader of the Lich Lords, and a Phooka, who had in life been Quaraun's lover, a candy-making Necromancer, named BoomFuzzy. The very Necromancer who had taught Quaraun the art of Necromancy. But that was 300 years ago. BoomFuzzy had been dead for centuries and years of being alone had not been good on the Elf's mind. Elves were communal creatures, living in large groups, their minds and souls connected by a mystical bound. The bond once broken, could send serving Elves down the road of madness. Poor Quaraun, had not only lost his family and his community, but every last member of his entire race. He now lived completely alone in his head, the way Humans did, and it was slowly driving him mad. In an attempt to alleviate the immense loneness, Quaraun had bound his soul to the soul of BoomFuzzy. But BoomFuzzy was a Faerie, a Phooka, and absolutely insane and Quaraun had been ill equipped mentally to handle his mind and soul being linked to the wild scatterbrained emotions of a feral Fae.
An Elf feels emotions on a very different level, much more subdued, intellectual level, and thus to other beings, the Elves appeared to have no outward emotions at all. They did not laugh. They did not cry. They did not smile. Faeries on the other hand, wore their emotions on their sleeves and appeared to other beings as being absolutely psychotic with how they were none stop bundles of screaming, laughing, and crying, often all at once. For an Elf to bind his soul to a Faerie was unheard of. It just wasn't done, but Quaraun had done it. But the last thing Quaraun had expect was for the Faerie to die.
Something happened to Quaraun's mind the day BoomFuzzy died. Quaraun in his, not thinking things through, had left his Fae lover, not intending to leave forever, fully planning to come back, but the Fae with it's over-active emotions and wild jumping to conclusions, had assumes the Elf left him for good. The Elf had not been the first lover to abandon the Faerie and in a fit of despair, thinking no one loved him, BoomFuzzy commit suicide. Quaraun, through the soul bond, felt everything BoomFuzzy had felt, and his soul died with the Phooka. Quaraun was mortified, realizing it had been his own lack of explaining why he left, and not telling the Phooka he was returning, that had caused the Fae's death. The guilt now weighed on Quaraun's mind, crushing what remained of his now badly shattered soul.
The horror had only just begun for Quaraun, as he soon realized BoomFuzzy had turned himself into a Lich, and Quaraun found his soul bound to the murderous, undead Elf Eater of Pepper Valley. Desperate to free his soul of it's binding to the Lich, Quaraun wandered the world for two hundred years, seeking out said Lich, only to be continually tripped up by running into wild, crazed Phookas.
The fact that BoomFuzzy never left him, and was now in various forms stalking him and going out of his way to see how long it could take him to drive the lonely Elf absolutely out of his mind, never occurred to Quaraun at all. And it likewise didn't occurred to him, that he was in fact in the company of yet another reanimated version of his former lover BoomFuzzy, or that the Phooka had just come right out and told him this was a trap, which he had built and could unlock and relock. Instead Quaraun was too fascinated by the fact that he had never seen a hole in the ground like this one and was not listening to a single word the Phooka was saying to him.
"What is this place? It has all the appearances of a bottomless pit."
"I dids tolds ya, it be oubliette."
"Unicorn, do you know what this is?"
"This is Lich magic."
"Aye. I knows it is."
"There is phylactery here. These spells, they are for protecting a phylactery from being discovered."
"Aye. Thus why it be safe. Nothing can get in... or out."
"But this is a Lich's lair."
“That means a Lich lives here.”
"I know. I live here. It is me house."
"Why do you live in a Lich's lair?"
Rather than answer Quaraun, Unicorn simply pushed the Elf over the edge.
“Yis stupid, Quaraun,” the Lich called down the hole.
It was many hours later, when Quaraun woke up and found that he had been sleeping on a pile of soft, but picky hay, piled on the dirt floor of the oubliette.
"Oow," Quaraun groaned as he sat up. He had landed hard on his already wounded side and was feeling like he'd been trampled by horses.
Quaraun looked around the room cautiously. The room was dark. Only one small hole, cut high on the ceiling allowed a thin beam of sunlight shine through. It was a few moments before his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Quaraun did not see much of interest in this room, it was practically empty.
"Why have a hole so heavily guarded if nothing's in it?"
As Quaraun scanned the room and it's bare emptiness, his eyes fell upon a strange sight. The Phooka was laying asleep beside him. He was laying in a somewhat odd position, almost as though he were a wolf. He did not resemble the Phooka Quaraun had seen before. His skin was much paler. Golden tan instead of dark brown. He now looked Asian instead of black. His claws were longer, as were his fangs. His long dread locked hair, though once black, was now streaked with grey and silver. His features indicated that in his youth, he had been quite handsome. The thing that stood out the most about him was his odd mode of dress. His clothing was clearly not local. He was wearing a black kimono of damn fine silk with a high glossy sheen and richly embroidered with red and gold Chinese dragons. Quaraun had assumed the Phooka to be a Scottish Faerie, because of his broken accent, but unmorphed and in his true form it was clear this was a demon of Asian descent, both his cloths and his features suggested as much. And yet, Quaraun could see the creature, even when asleep, had put a heavy glimmer spell on itself and was still not in it's true form.
Quaraun wondered if this was the same Phooka or had Unicorn left him in the care of another. It was hard to tell with a Phooka. They could look like anything or anyone and change at will. As Quaraun knelt closer to get a better look at him through the darkness, Quaraun smelt that same strong scent of pine and cloves, that he had smelt on the creature before. Pine and cloves and peppermint and gingerbread. The fragrance of gingerbread was especially strong down in the bottom of this pit.
“Gingerbread,” Quaraun whispered.
There was a strong smell of gingerbread to this entire place. Quaraun touched the wall of the cave. It was not made of dirt or stone. It was made of gingerbread. The rocks sticking through the dirt-like cake, were made of chocolate.
BoomFuzzy had been a chef. Most people knew him as a candy maker, for it was candy that he sold to the public, but there wasn't anything he couldn't make. Food was his passion, and gingerbread cakes had been somewhat of an obsession of his, to the point that he built real houses out of huge sheets of gingerbread and used gingerbread loaf cakes for brick. He had lived in an elaborate gingerbread house hen he lived with the Moon Elves.
BoomFuzzy often told tales of having once lived at the North Pole with his couson Krumpas, another Phooka, and their friend the child eating Frost Lich whom the Humans called Santa Claus. BoomFuzzy had built old St. Nick a fortress and factory out of gingerbread.
While most things BoomFuzzy did were illusions, he had spent weeks building the gingerbread house before dropping it in the middle of the village. The cake was quite real and so appeared to be the vast, tall, gingerbread cake walls of the cave Quaraun now found himself in.
Quaraun thought back to the tavern. It looked like gingerbread. It could have been gingerbread. The castle ruins looked like sugar cookie and gingerbread sculptures. Quaraun touched the wall, it’s soft sticky cake crumbles crushed easily in his hands. The heady fragrances of molasses and cloves filled the air.
“The cave's made of gingerbread. It's not real. He's building illusions out of gingerbread. None of this is real.”
Quaraun stared at the Phooka. Quaraun had meet every wizard of the guild, and nearly every wizard who refused guild membership and there had only ever been one candy-making wizard who built his houses out of gingerbread and chocolate...
"BoomFuzzy," Quaraun gasped. "It can't be. BoomFuzzy's dead. I saw him die."
Quaraun reached out to touch the sleeping Phooka, but let out a cry of pain, as the Phooka leapt up from his bed in the hay, grasping the Elf's wrist with one clawed hand and his throat with the other. Quaraun had no time to react before Quaraun found himself on his back pinned helplessly to the ground, by a fierce sharp clawed creature many times stronger then he was. The beast landed on top of him straddling his hips in what Quaraun determined to be a rather embarrassing position for if Quaraun tried to struggle against Unicorn he'd be forced to press his own genitals hard against the Phooka's penis, an action Unicorn evidently assumed Quaraun would wish to avoid and thus a position which effectively prevented him from struggling to get away.
Though Quaraun did feel somewhat silly worrying about the Phooka's penis pushing against him, when his long eagle talon like claws were digging deep into the flesh of his neck. Drops of blood appeared around the tips of his claws as they sunk into the Elf's soft flesh. The Phooka morphed back into his younger, darker skinned form he had been when Quaraun had first met him in the tavern.
"What is ya doing in here?" Unicorn demanded in a low hissing growl, his eyes glowing vibrate electric blue. His hissing voice had changed and was that of an animal not a man. His features almost skeletal, his eye sockets like two hollowed out holes in a skull.
Quaraun suddenly felt deathly cold, as though ever last drop of warmth had been sucked out of the room. Ice crystals grew over the walls. His breath hung frozen in the icy air.
A Phooka was a monster, a beast, neither man nor animal. A creature rarely seen, and never in it's true form. No one knew what a Phooka actually looked like, only that they were hideous creatures that relishing in tearing flesh from bones and dancing in the blood of their victims.
It wasn't the Phooka that was scaring Quaraun just then, but a Phooka was just a monster. A living physical being. But not a Lich. Liches were dead and they didn’t care what risks they had to take to kill you. They could eeasily die with you, laughing as they did, for while you would stay dead, they would get back up the next as though death had never struck. There was nothing more deadly or more dangerous then a Lich.
Long sharp ice crystal that began growing out of the walls, creating long spikes many feet tall. The room had become deathly cold with every last drop of warmth whisked away, and a thick glaze of ice now covered everything. While Moon Elves had a high tolerance for cold, there was a limit to how much sub-zero frost they could take and the temperatures in the room were dropping many degrees below freezing point. It was a Lich's frost, and it could kill an Elf in minutes.
Quaraun looked up into his face, now just inches about his own, but it was no longer the face of an elderly man which Quaraun saw sleeping peacefully beside him. The man holding him down was much younger, with glossy black hair tinted a gleaming electric blue and blazing hollow white skull-like eyes that glowed and eerie neon blue. The creature's body was fading into ghost-like invisibility as his eyes glowed brighter, bluer, light spotlights, blinding the Elf. The entire room was dropping by several degrees every minute as ice formed on the walls and floor. The Phooka was morphing itself into a Lich.
Quaraun saw a row of sharpened teeth that would frighten a piranha. The beast was poised to kill him, slit the Elf's throat and drink his blood; Quaraun had to think fast, if Quaraun was to get out of this alive.
Quaraun was a Lich hunter or so the rumours said, but this was not entirely true. He did hunt for Liches, yes, but he was not out to kill them. That was the error of the rumours. He was looking for BoomFuzzy, whom had turned himself into a Lich, and he had certainly found him. To find him had been what Quaraun wanted all along, but what to do with him once he had found him and how to prevent the Lich from killing him, that was another matter. But then, Quaraun could not be certain this was BoomFuzzy or even a Lich at all. He was dealing with a Phooka. A trickster capable of getting in his head and knowing his thoughts and fears and using them to create very convincing illusions. This may or may not be real.
If this was real, then Quaraun had a Lich at his throat about to tear him apart, in the bottom of a cave made out of gingerbread.
If it wasn't real, then Quaraun had disturbed Phooka's sleep, the Phooka seemed to have forgotten that he was the one who had tossed the Elf down the hole, and was working on the Elf's fears to terrify him into submission, which was working quite well. Quaraun tried to think of what what happening and what to do next.
'He doesn't seem to remember me. He probably thinks I snuck in to assassinate him. That's it! He's an old dying Phooka, that's why this room is so heavily guarded. He's an old man, he needs protection, this is all an illusion, this isn't what he actually looks like, this isn't who he really is. The old man, so vulnerable and frail, that's the real emperor. He can't really hurt me, it's all an illusion. He is frightened. He forgot he brought me here and thinks I snuck into his room while he was asleep. He's afraid I'm going to kill him in his sleep. He's attacking me because he's scared; he's more scared of me right now then I am of him.'
"Speak," Unicorn ordered, clenching his fist tighter on the Elf's throat.
"Or what?" Quaraun asked in what Quaraun hoped was a fearless voice.
“Or I'll eat ya.”
"You can't hurt me! None of this is real. You're a Phooka, this is all an illusion. You're just a old horse trying to scare me."
To his surprise it worked. Unicorn loosened his grip and leaned back, though he continued to straddle Quaraun and was pressing uncomfortably close.
“How come is ya here?”
Quaraun pointed up to the hole in the ceiling which the Phooka had tossed him down. Unicorn stared up at the hole.
"Oh! It be me little Elf. I forgot ya was here. Hello!"
He pushed himself back and got off of the Elf, slunk back over to the hay where he'd been sleeping and sat down, cross-legged, grinning, and humming, now looking as he did when Quaraun had first arrived in the tavern.
“How do you keep changing forms so much.”
“Shape-shifter. It is what I do.”
"You tossed me in a hole!" Quaraun said as he got up, clutching his neck and then looking at the blood on his fingers. "And now I'm bleeding."
"And a good morning to ya too! Apricot?"
Unicorn handed the Elf a chocolate covered candied apricot, which Quaraun took.
"You tossed me in a hole!"
“Aye. I dids.”
"Yis supposed to be a Lich hunter. Yis wickit stupid, Quaraun."
"You tossed me in a hole!"
"To save you life."
"So you could eat me?"
"Sos I coulds fuck ya."
"Is that all you think about?"
"Aye. It is. That and food. I lives food and fucking. Ain't nothing betri. Here. Have anothah apricot.”
"I've still got this one.”
“There is more to life then sex and eating.”
“No there ain't. People like to pretend there is, but there really ain't, not when ya gets right doun to it. So why bother pretending there be more to life? I fucks what I want and etts who I wants. Life be good. … or is it death be good? We is dead, or undead or something.”
“Why didn't you eat me?"
"Dids ya be desiren me to?"
"But ya thought I would."
“Are you a Lich?”
“Ya the Lich Hunter. Ya tells me.”
"You're an Elf Eater. Eating Elves is what Elf Eaters do, thus the name."
"Well, I suppose ya should fucking call me an Elf Fucker instead then, because I twould rather fuck ya then eat ya."
"We is a Faerie."
“You keep saying we… is there any body else here or are you just insane a speaking about yourself in third person?
“I. We. Same thing. I been alone too long. I talk to meself. We talks to ourselves.”
"You're weird even for a Faerie.”
“Ya know calling me A Elf Eater is somewhat inaccurate.”
“There be only one Elf Eater, thus the term, THE Elf Eater.”
“The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley.”
“Leader of the Lich Lords.
“All the Phookas from his clan are called Elf Eaters now.”
“All the Phookas of his clan are dead.”
“He etts them.”
“He ate his own people?”
“Why did he do that?”
“I twere hungry. They were there.”
“Where are we?"
“We? Which we?”
“You and me. Me and you. Me, a Moon Elf, in a cave made out of gingerbread, with a Phooka who’s apparently a Lich and trying to convince me he’s BoomFuzzy so he can rape. That we.”
"We is safe." Unicorn's voice had lost all sound of fear.
"Safe? From a Lich? There is no safe from a Lich."
Quaraun got up and was examining the walls and staring up at the hole in the ceiling, many feet above his head.
“Is that the only way in?”
“How do we get out?”
“Me? I can fly. You? Yis stuck doun here.”
Quaraun began pacing circles around the room, nervously looking up at the hole in the ceiling then looking around for a door in the walls, then looking back up at the hole in the ceiling.
“There's a Lich out there.”
“There a Lich in here.”
“We'll be killed.”
"Ya a doylt of a Lich hunter."
“Does ya always lose ya hearing when ya has panic attacks?”
“We're trapped in a Lich's lair.”
“And there be only one Lich around here.”
“There is a Lich outside.”
“Has ya even got a brain in ya head? That Lich which were outside is the Lich in here now.”
“We'll be killed.”
“Ya just is not listening to me. What is I saying? Hims a Thullid. Of course him ain't got no brain in hims head. It all been ett up.”
“We is safe, ya silly brainless Elf.”
“And you fly? How the hell do you fly?”
“Ya lost me.”
“You said you could fly.”
“I said that a half hour ahgoo. Why ya questioning now?”
“I'm slow to think.”
“I don't think well under stress.”
“Been noticing that too.”
“How can you fly?”
“Lots of things can fly. Liches fly. Ghosts fly. Vampires fly. Phookas can turn into birds and fly.”
“Noncorporeal. We can hover, float, glide, fly, zip around, walk through walls, pop out of wells, walk on clouds, climb walls, walk on the ceiling.”
“Walk on ceilings? Why would you do that?”
“When ya lives for a million years and commit suicide a million times just to see how many different ways ya can die, hoping maybe in a few centuries ya’ll find a way to finally stay dead and it never happens, ya start to get bored and wonder what sort of things ya can does to pass the time. One day I twere pacing back and forth on the floor trying to come up with a new way to kill meself, one I had’na tried yet and afore I knows it, I’m one the ceiling pacing around. Knows not how I got up there, but made it easy to hang meself.”
“Why would you spend eternity trying to kill yourself?”
“do ya knows how fucking long eternity is? I sick of it. Being a Lich ain’t all it cracked up to be. I does no recommend it.”
“Liches walk through walls?” Quaraun looked back up at the hole in the ceiling. “You're sure it can't get in?”
"Oh yes." The Phooka nodded. "If it were still outside, which it ain't, cause it be in here now talking to ya, iffy I were still outside, it can'na get in here. I guarantee ya, any Liches that be outside is not coming in. No Liches can gets past me. No Lich dares to try gets past me. We is their leader."
Unicorn closed his eyes and began humming to himself again.
"Lich's are the most all powerful beings on the planet, they can get in anywhere they want to. It's the nature of being a Lich. And this is a damned Lich's lair."
"And yis me sweet little idiot, just as stupid as ya ever were. Ya twere stupid three hundred years ahgoo and ya still stupid now. I loves ya stupidity, Quaraun. Does not know how ya has survived all these years. Ya just too stupid to live and yet here ya are, still kvikr for no damned reason.”
“We are in a Lich's lair.”
“Aye. Ya've said that a few times now and ya still not listening to a word I has saids to ya.”
Quaraun was listening. He had heard the Phooka. Every word it had said was fully registering and that was what was causing the Elf's panic. He was trapped not by a Phooka, but by a Phooka that had turned itself into a Lich. And not just any Lich, but one of the thirteen Lich Lords, and not just any Lich lord, but their leader and creator himself, King Gwallmaiic, Elf Eater of Pepper Valley. It was one thing to be caught by a Phooka, but this was a Lich. It was one thing to be caught by a Lich, but this was a Lich Lord. It was one thing to be caught by a Lich Lord, but this was The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley himself, a fact that Quaraun didn’t want to face, because if this was The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley, then that could only mean one thing:
This was his dead lover BoomFuzzy back from the dead.
Quaraun heard every word the creature said, he was just ignoring the Lich, because for if this Phooka was a Lich, and the Lich was in fact The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley, then this was BoomFuzzy and Quaraun's poor broken heart couldn't face that. Quaraun had loved BoomFuzzy with every fibre of his heart and soul and he had watched BoomFuzzy die a horrible, terrible, agonizingly painful death. To see BoomFuzzy return as an undead creature of evil was more then Quaraun could bare. His mind was torn by the burning desire to be reunited with his lover, and the terrorized fear of wanting nothing but to be far away from the monster he now was.
Quaraun sat back down on the floor. His side hurt, his head felt like it was spinning, too many thoughts were flying around, confusing him. All he wanted to do was lay down, close his eyes, and wake up somewhere else. In another time. Another place.
The Phooka watched quietly as the Elf collapsed to the floor and laying panting from the panic attack that had seized him. Unicorn moved to kneel beside the fallen pink clad wizard and stroked his long silver hair.
“Ya poor thing. Ya stress yarself out too much. Ya needs to not think so much. Just relax and empty ya mind. Which should’na be hard to do, considering there no brain in ye head to begin with. I feel want ya feel, ya know. Me pretty little girl Elf born with boy parts that burn for BoomFuzzy's love. And the terror of knowing what BoomFuzzy really is. Yis so conflicted.”
Unicorn leaned forward and kissed the Elf passionately. To his surprise, Quaraun wrapped his arms around the Phooka and pulled him closer, returning the kisses. The Phooka slip his hand under the fabric of the Elf's soft pink dress and began roughly stroking his gentiles. Quaraun moaned as his juices flowed onto the Phooka's hand.
“Ya as wet as a horny schoolgirl lusting eftah her teacher.”
For a few moments Quaraun was lost in the pleasurable lusts the creature was making him feel, but suddenly he realized where he was and who was doing this to him. The Elf squealed and bucked and tried to push the Phooka away.
“Please don't,” Quaraun cried out as he pulled away.
The Phooka did not resist Quaraun's attempt to stop him, and sat back away from the Elf allowing him to scramble away.
“Ya want it. Ya can'na hide that.”
“I want BoomFuzzy and you're not him.”
This novel was originally written on: 2007 & 2009 & 2012
This page last updated on: April 07, 2017
INTRODUCTION TO THE SERIES
The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane
(Added March 29, 2016)
EelKat Wendy Christine Allen
UPDATE: The Old Orchard Beach Town Hall has handed me a court order requiring I place a warning in my books, warning you that they have their heads stuck up their asses, I mean, warning you that this book was written by a non-white transgender author and contains non-white, LGBTQ characters, which the straight, white citizens of Old Orchard Beach find offensive because they never before took their heads out of their asses long enough to notice that there exist in this world non-white people and gay transgender men. The HORROR I have forced them to discover, when they took their heads out of their asses long enough to discover a non-white, transgender author has lived in their town since 1975!
As of January 4, 2016 ALL gay, transgender, and non-white authors, living in the white power, gay-hating town of Old Orchard Beach, Maine are now required to add a warning to the front of their books, warning readers that this book is a vile, evil, perversion of their senses because it contains non-white, minority, transgender, and or gay characters who by their very existence according to the white power, gay hating residents of the 99.9% white town of Old Orchard Beach, Maine do not deserve to live and should not be included as characters in books.
Because I am a vile, evil, non-white, transgender author who lives in Old Orchard Beach, Maine, I am now required by court order to place warning in my books, to warn readers that this book was written by a vile, evil, non-white, transgender author and there for may contain references to my vile, evil, non-white, transgender lifestyle, including to, shock, and horror, ACTUALLY CONTAIN
oh, my, my, my, how evil of me to consider writing a book with a person of colour in it. And even worse, is the fact that...wait for it...
I've gone so far as to allow gay transvestite characters to be in my books.
How shockingly evil of me to offend the citizens of Old Orchard Beach, by including gay and transgender characters in my book. I have forced them to have to discover the horror that there exists non-white people in our town, and worse, have made them suffer the horrors of learning that LGBTQ citizens have the right to live. How evil of me. To punish me for the publication of the book you are now reading, they filled my home with sewage 3 feet deep and cut the heads off of my cats, drove a backhoe over my house, then beat me up and left me paralyzed for 5 months, during which time they hacked my online accounts of Kboards, NaNoWriMo, Twitter and other places and impersonated me, posting lots of shitty crap to try to discredit me and destroy my reputation. If you are one of my long time readers and followers, you no dought saw what transpired on KBoards and NaNoWriMo (I did not see it and still do not know what happened, seeing how I was in the hospital dying, while the hacker was taking over my accounts online.)
18 months later I am out of the wheelchair, relearning to walk and still refusing to unpublish my evil books containing non-white gay men and so now they have gotten a court order demanding the warning you are now reading, be placed in this book, because the Old Orchard Beach Town Hall (the plaintiff named on the court order – YES – an actual United States Government Organization has issued this civil rights violating court order, in blatant disregard to federal laws) believes that non-whites and gays and transgender citizens are so evil that they QUOTE “ought to be shot in the head” UNQUOTE.
The book you are now holding contains non-white characters, of the same vile, evil non-white race as the non-white author who wrote this book and because I am not white and have chosen to include non-white characters in this book, I am now required by court order to warn my non-white readers that this book was written by evil, vile non-white me and contains evil, vile non-white characters that will offend your holier then though piece of shit white asses. There, I am now in compliance with the white power, gay hating town of Old Orchard Beach's, civil rights violating court order. White trash has now been warned that non-white trash exists in this book.
The book you are now holding contains LGBTQ characters, of the same vile, evil LGBTQ existence as the LGBTQ who wrote this book and because I am LGBTQ and have chosen to include LGBTQ characters in this book, I am now required by court order to warn my LGBTQ readers that this book was written by evil, vile LGBTQ me and contains evil, vile LGBTQ characters that will offend your holier then though piece of shit straight asses. There, I am now in compliance with the white power, gay hating town of Old Orchard Beach's, civil rights violating court order. Straight trash has now been warned that non-straight trash exists in this book.
If you have any questions regarding this court order which violates the civil rights of people of colour, minority races, and LGBTQ citizens, please head to the State of Maine, Biddeford District Court and ask for copies of
Docket #BDDC-PA-2015-00574 and CV-15-58/CV-15-59
the Alfred Superior Court Docket #CV-15-299
and the Portland Superior Law Court Docket #YOR-15-253
Additionally, you can find more information by going to the Old Orchard Beach Police Department and requesting copies of ALL police reports made in regards to 144, 146, and 146a Portland Avenue, from 2001 to 2016 (approximately 300 reports).
Note, that the court order includes 4 interesting facts:
1: It states that transgender people in Old Orchard Beach are not allowed to own cats; the Town Manager confiscated my cats on this basis (the judge granted this). 140 families in Old Orchard Beach had a grand total of more then 500 cats taken from them via this court order. Many of those cats are being returned to their owners, one head nailed to their door at a time.
2: It states that transgender vehicles are not allowed in the town of Old Orchard Beach and specifically that The Transgender Awareness Tour Bus be removed from the "perimeters of the family friendly town of Old Orchard Beach" (the judge denied this)
3: It states that transgender authors, not be allowed to publish books featuring transgender characters, and contains a list of books, deemed "Too gay for Old Orchard Beach" that the Town Hall requested be removed from publication. The judge ordered the removal and unpublication of 27 of my books, and that the rest have this warning placed in them.
4: That LGBTQ, non-white, non-Christians, and Muslims, not be allowed to set foot in Old Orchard Beach (with one motel owner in particular claiming his right to confiscate the homes, property, and business of some 140 families in Old Orchard Beach, by right of his desire to put condominiums on each of their properties. Interestingly, this is the same man who drove a backhoe over my house in 2013.) Part of this was passed, with the judge ordering LGBTQ families not allowed to set foot in their own homes (not rentals or apartments - houses they owned outright and owed no taxes or mortgages on, with 140 families be forced out of their homes on January 4, 2016. He dropped the request to confiscate homes of LGBTQ citizens when FBI Agent Andy Drewer Arrived to investigate him and the 5 businesses he owns, for his connection to the bomb that blew up my house in 2006.) Three court houses later a different judge overruled the first judge's civil rights violating order, with LGBTQ citizens being allowed to go home October 18, 2016, after 10 months of living in their cars.
Want to know the names, phone numbers, business locations, and home addresses of all the cat murdering, transphobic, gay-hating, white powered people who are trying to ban all LGBTQ and non-white citizens from Old Orchard Beach? Then go to those 3 court houses and request to get copies of all 700 pages of The Too Gay For Old Orchard Beach Court Case of Old Orchard Beach vs Wendy Christine Allen.
All names and contact information of all the white power, gay hating town hall officials, police officers, public works workers, motels, businesses, motel owners, business owners, and the KKK's own lawyers, behind this introduction now required to being added to books containing gay or non-white characters can be found in those court orders and police reports, here after collectively known as “The Too Gay For Old Orchard Beach Court Case” or #TooGayForOOB for short.
In those court dockets you will find more then 700 pages of utterly fascinating civil rights violating, animal abusing, hate crime glorifying, anti-gay, white power, transphobic lunacy. I highly recommend you get copies of those court dockets and see for yourself, the REALITY of how utterly insane the gay hating, white power mentality of Old Orchard Beach, really is.
Or if you want to meet me at Staples, and are willing to pay however much it costs to have 700 pages of copies made, you can get copies made of my copy of the court order.
Welcome to Maine, where love wins, everywhere, except in the white power, gay-hating town of Old Orchard Beach. TIP: If you are looking for a great fun summer family vacation spot this summer: avoid the transphobic, animal abusing, gay hating, white power town of Old Orchard Beach. This town is only family friendly, IF your family qualifies as a “real family” which to them means: you are white, Christian, and have no connections to LGBTQ people whatsoever. Save your hard earned money and DO NOT come to Old Orchard Beach this summer. Don't bother wasting your hard earned money on the transphobic, animal abusing, gay hating, white power trash that thinks it's okay to discriminate against people based on race, gender, religion, or colour.
There. Now I am in compliance with the court order and you, my dear reader have been warned that this book was written by evil, vile, perverted non-white, non-straight little old me and contains non-white, gay, transvestite characters. Can I ask: Have you EVER seen a book ANYWHERE that the author's town required the author to place a warning in the book, for ANY reason? Can anyone say RIDICULOUS? Yes, the town of Old Orchard Beach is being utterly ridiculous. I think they forgot that Old Orchard Beach is a town in America and not it's own country.
So, if you are a transphobic, gay-hating, white power person who is offended by the existence of transvestites, gays, non-Christians, people of colour, and other things that tick off white power mentalities, then you probably want to avoid these books.
For everybody else who isn't a white power, transphobic, gay-hating jerk with their head stuck up their own white, Christian ass: I hope you enjoy reading these books as much as I have enjoyed writing them. And for those of you who don't enjoy this sort of book, well, enjoy those knee-jerks, I'm told you guys should be expecting quite a few of them.
End of introduction.
What do you want to become?
What did you do today to step closer to that goal?
Whatever you do, be your best at it!
And remember to have yourself a great and wonderfully glorious day!
Evil men go out of their way to try to drive a person to suicide.
Are you an evil man?
Are you sure you're not?
How many people have YOUR hate filled words killed?
Next time you go to do a mean thing to a fellow human, stop and really think about the consequences of your actions.
Did you ever notice how every one has a story to tell about me, yet not one of them ever speaks the truth?
What lies has YOUR gossiping tongue spread about me?
Did you know...
October 16, 2006, bomb blew up my house because of YOUR lies.
August 8, 2013, the house which replaced the one the bomb blew up, was driven over by a backhoe.
November 14, 2013, my 8 month old infant son was murdered because of your lies.
November 14, 2013, I was beaten up, paralized for 5 months, spent 18 weeks relearning to walk, I'm now crippled for the rest of my life, because of YOUR lies.
Are you proud of what you have done?
Enjoy your eternity in Hell. You earned it. You've certainly worked hard for it.
If you have any information about any of these events, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322