“I said take this down, Oswald! As in start writing.”
“Oh, you are. Well in that case don’t write that last bit. No, cross it
out, don’t just keep writing this. Oswald you blasted imbecile of an unseen
servant, stop recording me when I’m trying to reprimand you. You’re still
bloody doing it. Oh for f… never mind. These might end up being my last
recorded words and now anyone reading it is going to think I’m some sort of
imbecile. Sod it, lets just begin. If I die, make sure to slot it in between
some of my charred bones before you disappear by the way. Maybe don’t write
that either… oh. Bloody marvellous. Stupid invisible twat. No don’t write… Oh
dear.”
“Ahem. I suppose I’d better keep this brief. I don’t have the
time to write this, so I’m telepathically communicating it to Oswald. Before I
share my final thoughts, I should tell you how I got here. We have two new companions,
but I won’t say much about them. Either we survive, and I’ll have plenty of
time to mention them in the future, or we don’t, in which case you’re here to
find out what wisdom the great Professor Faelon left before his passing, not hear
about the hired help. Hold on… hear about the hired… Oh great, now there’s
alliteration in my last words. This day just keeps getting worse. After
defeating that four-armed gargoyle, we journeyed to a village full of corpses,
and encountered a nice young woman, who turned out to be a less-nice hag
worshipping some god of death. She told us of a great evil in a nearby cave,
and that she had the means to bring people back from the dead despite the death
curse. Before I could try and learn something from the young lady, my more
impulsive comrades attacked her and she ran off a cliff to escape. Curious, I
doubt we’ve seen the last of her somehow. I just hope that, if we meet again,
she’ll remember that I tried to persuade my comrades to let her go.
In the cave we found many blinded Pterafolk, who looked like
they’d been tortured. From their garbled speech, they mentioned something
called the master of many eyes. That instantly set off warning bells in my mind.
Were-newts have three eyes… However, it turned out to be something even worse.
A Beholder. In all my years as professor of assorted evil, I’d never come
across one. This was no accident. If I ever got wind that an artefact I wanted
was being guarded by a beholder, I’d immediately decide to want
something else.
That reminds me… I did almost have to face one before. I
forget the year, but it was a spring field trip. I’d heard of interesting magical
items held in some old catacombs and had brought along four of my most
promising students. I was about to do what I always did for the spring coursework,
which was to say: “I’m going to sit here on this hill and have a long lunch. You
lot head down there and bring me back something interesting. The more interesting
it is, the higher the mark you’ll get.” However, it turned out that Blatters, a
weasel faced boy who was always fighting with Sigmund, had sold the location of
the trip to professor Felaby, who had arrived there earlier. In our long years
of conflict, it had become clear that Felaby possessed one power that few other
wizards could comprehend. Namely, the ability to get up before 11 o’clock. A
shower of sparks brought my attention to a neighbouring hill, where the git sat
waving at me. He’d got about halfway into what appeared to be a crab sandwich,
the bastard! When I’d gone to the canteen earlier, they’d been out of crab and
I’d had to settle for cured boar… did Felaby’s villainy know no bounds? I was incandescent
with rage, and about to offer A-star grades for the year to whomever managed to
bring me the rest of that sandwich, when the screams began. Everyone’s attention
turned back to the entrance. Less than a minute later, one girl whom I recognised
as myrtle (one of Felaby’s star students and to this day the only person I’ve
seen create a magic missile inside another magic missile), emerged. She was in tears
eyes as she ran through the archway. Suddenly there was a rumble from within
and she turned back with terror in her eyes. Felaby was on his feet now, sandwich
forgotten. Before he could mutter an incantation, Myrtle gave a shriek as three
rays emerged from the crypt and vaporised her where she stood. There was a
moment of silence. That was the first time I took the decision to postpone a
trip for health and safety concerns. We headed back to the college without a
word, leaving Felaby to go and pick through the pile of his former student.
Where was I? Oh yes, my final wisdom. I really must stop getting sidetracked. Bloody hell that thing is a lot bigger than the rough drawings show. Hopefully I can succeed where so many wizards before me have failed. My
companions seem shaken, and I wish I could offer some words of encouragement. Focus Faelon! Erm... yes. Let me now share with you some of the pearls of
wisdom I’ve learned over the years. Secrets I have never shared with another
soul. Lesson one… Oh bugger its looking right at me, Oswald can you… Oswald? Oh sh
