Mythlands: THE HEIST

Gone Fishin'

Thousands of kilometres away - the Narnian Hinterlands.

Styrr's stomach was growling. He wanted to stuff his belly with delicious creatures, but he dare not upset the godly ones. Talking of which, here came the orange one and the grey tabby with white paws and belly. Mmmm, cat bellies. An age old troll delicacy. 

Styrr shook the thought from his head. He had been forbidden from killing and eating any talking creatures and the problem was, most of the creatures in this strange land of Narnia, spoke.

'Greetings Styrr,' called out the grey cat. 'Ginger and I fetched you supper from the stream. Would you like your fish raw or grilled over the fire?'

'Griff fin get fish? How many fish ... Sir Griff fin?' Styrr was always careful to be extra respectful to the cats. He had been sent here to aid them at Vali's command and even if he hadn't been in total awe of the Asgardian gods, he didn't want word to get back to the shiny kitty that he was not being a good minion. Styrr thought of the shiny kitty and shuddered. He didn't want the one made of glass angry at him ... ever.'

Griffin flipped a fish at the troll and smiled. 'Lots. Eat this sushi style and we'll get the black dwarves to start up a fire for the rest.'

Styrr had no idea what sushi style was, but he decided to eat the fish raw. He liked raw fish just as much as cooked fish. Mmmm, his diet had certainly changed but as long as something filled his belly, Styrr was happy. He followed Griffin and the silent Ginger back to the mountainside hut where their black dwarf guides were gathered.

Steekle, the leader of the black dwarves came out to greet them. 'The target has been located. He's camped out in a mountain lodge about 3 miles from here.'

'We kill?' asked Styrr. 'Bash over head with club?'

The black bearded dwarf chuckled. 'No my trollish friend. This time our orders are to keep up surveillance and we will be given further instructions when the time is right.'

Griffin settled himself down in the shadows of the door as the dwarves began to put a fire together a few yards away. He had been concerned by some of the things that had happened in Narnia since arriving through the magic wardrobe.

Sure enough, Ginger had led them to a cell of the local resistance against the tyrant Aslan, but the promised translator hadn't been among the dwarves, so Griffin had stuck around, ever mindful that without him to interpret Ginger's signing, the Narnian cat wouldn't have been able to communicate.

Ginger had told him that they were striking righteous blows in the name of Jadis, the rightful queen, but so far this only seemed to consist of sneaking into villages and setting things on fire, stealing supplies and occasionally, killing soldiers. Griffin was deeply troubled about this, especially the latter. He knew intellectually that the soldiers were murderers, thugs and oppressors, but still ...

So far though, he had been a voice of reason and restraint, stopping Styrr from getting too carried away. That and helping Ginger, was why he continued to stick around.

'This is strange isn't it?' he asked the dwarf. 'We've never been told to spy on an individual before. What's so important about this ... I'm not sure what kind of creature?'

Steekle grinned, showing black and yellow rotting teeth. 'The rarest of them all in these parts, a human. One from the Earthly plane.'

Griffin, who had read books about Narnia, pondered. 'One of the children ... though they must surely be grown by now?'

'Nah,' returned the dwarf. 'You might call him a distant relation though. Tall, spindly old fellow, great shock of crazy white hair. Tell tale sign ya know, crazy white hair.'

'For what?' inquired Griffin.

'Magicians, though they call this one a sign tist, probably because he does his spells through use of signs. Anyway, he's one of the Cair Paravel lot but not that popular with the rest. Likes to get out here to the mountains to be on his own.'

'I see. What is his name, this white haired scientist?'

Steekle patted his pockets. 'Written down the full name somewhere, but they calls him ... Uncle Andrew.'

Griffin lay down with his head over his paws and tried to remember the significance of that character. In the background Styrr finished his fish and belched. 'Mmmm, fish diet, good diet!'