The discovery that one lover was plotting to kill him, and the other lover murdered the plotter, was too much for BoomFuzzy to bear. And the fear, that Quaraun, like Gibedon, would eventually turn on him, shadowed over BoomFuzzy's mind, and was a event he could not bear. Rather than risk eventually losing Quaraun's love, BoomFuzzy killed himself, while he knew Quaraun still loved him, before Quaraun had a chance to start to hate him.

Quaraun had back tracked into BoomFuzzy's past and found everyone whom had ever caused BoomFuzzy misery and killed them. There was no one whom had ever caused BoomFuzzy pain who was still alive, except for one: Finderu. The leader and founder of The Wizarding Guild.

Finderu was the law. Finderu made the laws. Finderu said what types of magic were good and what types were evil.

Some types of magic were so evil in Finderu's mind, that they were worthy of being executed for. Necromancy was one of them.

Unknown to Quaraun when BoomFuzzy was alive, was the fact that centuries earlier BoomFuzzy had been a member of The Guild. Every wizard on the planet was forced to become a member of The Guild in order to practice magic, wither they knew that or not. Thus any wizard in any city or any country, even in distant jungles where no one had ever heard of Finderu or his wizarding guild, was required to join The Guild or risk execution for practising magic without a licence.

BoomFuzzy, however, had been a member of The Guild. Unfortunately, BoomFuzzy had also been a Necromancer and that didn't fly well with Finderu, who hadn't known about Necromancy before meeting BoomFuzzy or rather Gwallmaiic. BoomFuzzy was just a nickname that Quaraun called the evil Elf eating King of the Faeries.

King Gwallmaiic, also known as the Elf Eater of Pepper Valley, was the actual rule maker. Not Finderu. And this was the root of the problem. Finderu wanted to be King. He lusted for control and power. King Gwallmaiic had the control, King Gwallmaiic had the power. And Finderu was jealous.

King Gwallmaiic made the laws. Not Finderu. King Gwallmaiic was the law. Not Finderu. But Finderu would hear nothing of it and Gwallmaiic had liked Finderu. Liked him enough to want to fuck him and therefore let Finderu make laws that normally Finderu would never had been allowed to make otherwise. Gwallmaiic had a problem with sex addiction and wanted to fuck everyone he meet, so there was nothing special about Finderu.

The problem was, Finderu was devious and plotted to get close to King Gwallmaiic, befriend him, kill him, and take the throne. Quaraun didn't know all the details. He only knew BoomFuzzy's side of the story, which he only knew from reading BoomFuzzy's countless dozens of diaries after BoomFuzzy had died.

Quaraun was madly, insanely in love with BoomFuzzy and learning that BoomFuzzy had had other lovers, both before him and even while they were together had greatly upset Quaraun.

Finderu had been one of those lovers. Or at least, Finderu had pretended to be one of BoomFuzzy's lovers long enough to get close to the Faerie King and try to kill him. Which failed because Flower Faeries simply are not good at murder and Phooka's make an art of killing.

Pretending to be the lover of the king is exactly what led to Finderu's law banning male lovers.

In the end, Finderu fled Pepper Valley and immediately made laws against Necromancy in hopes that someone else would kill the evil king of the Faeries for him. No one ever did and eventually the evil Necromancer King killed himself in a Lich making ritual.

Finderu made laws outlawing Liches as well.

And in Quaraun's mind all of this had ultimately contributed to BoomFuzzy's depression which eventually lead to his suicide, meaning Finderu had been one of the murderers of BoomFuzzy and thus must die for the sin of his hand in BoomFuzzy's death.

Thus how Quaraun came to be in The Godforsaken City, sitting in this tavern, looking for Finderu.

Again.

For the ten thousandth life time, Quaraun once again, sat in this tavern, looking for a way to find and kill Finderu. But tavern's did not stay open all night and Quaraun was forced to pack up his things and head outside.

The problem with outside, was this particular village, was infested with a higher then average rate of thugs, criminals, pickpockets, thieves, gangsters, hoodlums, muggers, and overall scumbag degenerates of society. And Quaraun, was dressed like some sort of Bollywood version of a high society noblewoman turned prostitute, waiting to be mugged, and it wasn't long before a group of thugs decided to attack him.

Quaraun didn't get a chance to see who it was whom had hit him. All he knew was someone had hit him. And now he was dizzy.

"This is new," Quaraun muttered to himself. "I never got attacked at this tavern before in any of the previous lifetimes. Something has changed. History is not repeating itself. I don't know if that's good or bad. Either way, it means I don't know what will happen next. Or what to expect. I best be careful than."

Quaraun sat dazed on the hard cobblestone road, holding a bloody handkerchief over his mouth, and contemplated why it was this time was different, trying to figure out what it was he could have done which had caused this change of events.

"You okay?" A voice asked behind him.

"I'm fine," Quaraun muttered through the silk cloth, without looking up to see who was talking to him.

"You don't look fine."

The albino Moon Elf wizard wasn't fine, in fact he was hurting quite a lot, but he'd rather not talk about how he felt just now. The bandit had hit him hard on the jaw, and he'd landed even harder on the stone road. A bloody nose, a split lip, a scraped knee, a twisted ankle, and He wasn't sure who had hit him or why. He was a stranger in this town. Had entered the market, after leaving the tavern, looking to buy something to eat and had not expected to be randomly mugged, because he had been through this series of events in ten thousand previous lifetimes without ever being mugged before. The city guards had seen the whole thing and ran after the attacker. The mugger, running with the clippity clop of cloven hooves on the cobblestone, got away without taking anything.

One of the guards returned. "Bastard got away. Lost him in the crowd. You okay?"

"I'm fine," Quaraun said.

"Never seen nothing like it. Guy had hooves like a deer. Ran up crates and bounced over walls like a fucking billy goat. No way we can catch him."

"So you're saying I was attacked by a satyr?"

"A goat man? Yeah, looks like it."

"Was he wearing a green velvet coat?"

"Yeah. He was. You know him.

"No. But I've seen him before. History changes every time he's around."

"You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Anything stolen?"

"No. Only thing I was carry was my bag and that's still here."

"Okay than."

The guard left.

"You're bleeding," said the original voice, that was still standing out of sight behind him.

"Yes. I know. Thank you for telling me what I already knew."

"What are you doing?"

"Trying not to pass out." Quaraun wanted to wrap himself tightly in the warm, comforting safely of his tentacles, but he knew doing such a thing, now, here, in public, would cause a stir.

"No, I mean. . . What happened? Why you bleeding?"

"Bullies don't care."

"What?"

"Bullies are cruel."

"You want to explain that better?"

"I'm sick of Elf hating bastards at every turn. Wizard hating wretches are just as bad. And whores. And drunks. And Humans. It's like this every where I go. Elves and Wizards aren't welcomed anywhere. And I am both. And I'm fed up with the way people treat me. I can't go any where these days."

"You're a Wizard?"

"Yes. And I'm tired of being beaten up for it."

"Someone beat you up?"

"No, I just like randomly laying on the ground with a split lip for no reason."

"You're dressed like one of those rich, uppity aristocrats. Not a good thing to do around here. Lucky they didn't brain ya. Probably thought you were carrying a lot of gold coins."

"I am carrying a lot of gold coins."

"Why would you say that?"

"Say what?"

"Your kind of stupid aren't you?"

Quaraun looked up at his conversation companion. It was a Goblin.

"A Goblin?" Quaraun muttered to himself, not addressing the Goblin.

"Yeah. I'm a Goblin. You sound surprised."

"Well, quite frankly, I am. Goblins are not prone to living in Human villages."

"This ain't a Human village."

"Ain't it?"

"No. Faeries run everything around here."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Just a random stranger."

"Great. Wonderful. I love random strangers who are too rude to introduce themselves. Think you could help me up?"

The green skinned Goblin helped the little Elf Wizard stand.

"You got long hair."

"You keep stating the obvious."

"How do you walk without tripping on your hair?"

"The same way I walk without tripping on my dress."

"Why you wearing a dress?"

"I'm an Elf. This is how we dress."

"Do all Elves have hair like that?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I am unique."

"So?"

"I don't cut my hair."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a Wizard.

"Do Wizards not cut their hair?"

"Yes. Have you never seen a Wizard before?"

"No. Well, wait. There's Finderu."

"Finderu?" Quaraun stopped dead in his tracks and spun around to face the Goblin. "Do you know Finderu?"

"Sure!"

"How do you know Finderu?"

"Everyone knows him."

"Everyone?"

"Yeah."

"Who everyone?"

"Everyone who lives here, of course!"

"Why would everyone here know Finderu?"

"Because he lives here."

"Finderu lives here?"

"Yeah. He's a big shot. Thinks he runs the town. Bullies everyone."

"What does he look like?"

"Flower Fairy. Rose red hair. Now that I think of it. His hair is pretty long. Not at long as yours, but still. So Wizards never cut their hair, huh?"

"No. We don't. I haven't cut my hair in 300 years."

"How come?"

"Our long hair attracts the energy which powers our magic abilities. The longer a mage's hair, the more powerful they are."

"You must be pretty powerful than. Your hair drags on the ground."

"Yes. It does. And I am. I'm the world's most powerful wizard."

Quaraun looked around the market square. There was no sign of any other Elves or any one that looked remotely like a Wizard either. That was troubling. It usually meant The Guild's agents were in the town. He set out about his business, but the Goblin followed him and continued to pester him.

"Are you a male Elf or a female one?"

"Will you stop annoying me?"

"Do I have to?"

"What?"

"You kind of stand out. I mean. . . Look at you."

"Have you never seen an Elf before?"

"We don't see many Elves around here."

"I wonder why?"

"You're kind of bitchy aren't you."

"Oh, I don't know. Let me think. I walk into town and get punched in the face. I think I've earned the right to be bitchy, don't you?"

"I didn't hit you."

"No. But it's not the first time it happened. I'm tired of being beaten up by racist assed bigots, in every town I go in."

"Who beat you up?"

"I don't know. But when I find out, I'll have their head."

"That's a strong reaction, don't ya think?"

"I've taken heads for less."

"You sound serious."

"I am. Why wouldn't I be."

"You don't look big enough or strong enough."

"I'm bigger then you."

"Barely. You're a full head shorter then every Human in town. I thought Elves were tall?"

"I'm short. Now go fuck off."

"Why you dressed like a prostitute?"

Quaraun glared at the little Goblin.

"I am NOT dressed like a prostitute."

"Could'a fooled me."

"Is there some reason why you're still yapping at me?"

"Thought you looked like you could use some company."

"Do you want something?"

"No. I just saw a male Elf in a slutty pink dress, laying on the ground with a bloody face. Thought I'd stand here yapping at him. Don't often get a chance to talk to an Elf. They're kind of rare."

"Do you know nothing about Elves?"

"Nope. Like I said, we don't get many Elves around here."

"Obviously."

Quaraun brushed himself off, pulled a small silver hand mirror out of his bag of holding and began re-applying his make-up.

"Are you just going to ignore me now?" The Goblin asked.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I'm an Elf."

"So?"

"You're not an Elf."

"Meaning?"

Quaraun put his mirror and make up away and started walking. The Goblin walked along with him.

"Why are you following me?"

"You didn't answer me."

"Meaning I don't want to talk to you."

"Why not?"

"You're not an Elf."

"So?"

"I don't talk to non-Elves."

"You had to talk to me to say that line there, you know."

Quaraun continued walking. The Goblin continued trudging along behind him.

"Why are you following me?"

"Nothing else to do."

"Stop following me."

"Just because we are both going the same way, doesn't mean I'm following you."

Quaraun angrily flung his pink feather boa over his shoulder, turned around and walked in the other direction. The Goblin changed directions as well.

"You are still following me."

"Of course I am."

Quaraun stopped walking.

"Why?"

"I've never seen no one like you before."

"Of course you haven't. There isn't any one else like me. I am unique. I have enough self confidence and self worth to be myself and not have to try to be like everyone else."

"You got a name?"

"I seem to recall you not giving me yours."

"Xandri Witsnot the Goblin."

"Do you expect me to tell you my name now?"

"Of course."

"Why would I do that?"

"It's the polite thing to do?"

"Is it?"

"Isn't it?"

"You didn't sound so sure there."

"Most people just know it's the polite thing to do."

"I'm not most people."

"Yeah. I can see that."

"You are a stranger to me. Why should I tell you my name?"

"Everyone starts out a stranger. First step to becoming friends is to introduce yourself."

"Who said I wanted to be friends with a Goblin?"

"No one. I just thought. . . you being new in town and all, you might need someone to help you out. Tell you where things are. . ."

"Are you a street urchin?"

"A what?"

"Quaraun."

"Wait what?"

Quaraun continued walking.

"I said, my name is Quaraun."

"Quaraun? What? You mean, like the Necromancer?"

"Yes."

"Are you. . . wait. . . are you THE Quaraun? The one on all the wanted posters around town?"

"Yes."

"You are wearing pink. Are you The Pink Necromancer?"

"Yes. I am. I just told you I was. Now please leave me alone. I'm busy. I have work to do. Corpses to dig up. Heads to collect. Souls to extract. Murderers to hunt down and kill. BoomFuzzy to resurrect. I simply do not have time to talk to you."

"You're Quaraun the Insane?"

"I'm not insane. Please don't call me that."

"Why not?"

"I don't like being called that. It's mean and cruel and hurtful and a label slapped on my by bullies."

"You're like. . . A Di'Jinn, aren't you?"

"Yes. I am a Wizard of the Di'Jinn Order."

"So you grant wishes."

Quaraun stopped walking again.

"You got a wish you want granted?"

"No. Not me. Got a friend who does though."

"Really? Doesn't every body?"

Quaraun looked around hoping for a side street or a tavern or a dark alley, anything really, just some place he could slink away from this annoying Goblin.

"Yeah, but this one's different."

"They always are."

"No, you don't understand. He's in love."

"Love. Bah. I'm sick of love."

"You? Ain't love your thing? I always heard…."

"My lover is dead. Get on with your story. I haven't got all day."

"Well, it's Kelim see….."

"Who's Kelim?"

"My friend. He's a Pixie…."

"Pixie? Good god. Faeries. That's the last thing I need."

"And he's gone head over heels for Ophelia."

"Another Pixie?"

"No. She's a Flower Fairy."

"Flower Fairy. So he wants to father half-breed mongrels, great."

"You one of those purists?"

"I'm an Elf."

"Uhm. . . Okay. . . whatever. Any ways. Her father has got her set up to marry this other dude, see?"

"And?"

"She doesn't want to."

"She wants to marry the Pixie."

"No."

"No?"

"No. She doesn't know he exists. That's the trouble, see? She's in love with this other dude."

"And what do you want me to do?"

"Well, Kelim's shy…."

"Of course he is. Why else would he need a Di'Jinn?"

"But he's also a Pixie and Finderu doesn't like Pixies…."

"Finderu?" Quaraun muttered the name quietly.

The Goblin continued talking about Kelim and the Flower Fairy and the upcoming wedding but Quaraun heard nothing else the Goblin said after the word Finderu. When the Goblin finished, Quaraun addressed him, more calmly and less arrogantly then before.

"What has Finderu to do with any of this?"

"He's Ophelia's father."

"Is he? Fascinating. Finderu has a daughter. I didn't know that."

"You know Finderu?"

"Oh, you could say we're old friends. I some business to attend to with Finderu. I didn't realize he lived around here."

"Are you a Guild member?"

"I'm a Wizard. What do you think?"

"It's illegal to practice Wizardry without being a member of The Guild."

"I know. Finderu loves to remind me."

"Yeah. He made that rule or something. He's always talking about it."

"Finderu. Founder of The Guild. Here. And he doesn't like this Pixie you say?"

"No. Won't let Ophelia near Pixies. He's one of those radicals. Don't believe in interracial marriage."

"Well then, we'll have to fix that. You tell your friend, Kelim, come find me. We'll see if we can't set him up with Finderu's daughter."

"Where would we find you?"

"Well, I was on my way to visit Ghirardelli."

"The Swamp Hag?"

"Yes."

"But she's a Witch."

"Yes."

"I thought Wizards and Witches didn't get along?"

"Oh. No. We don't, but….I. . . I have business with her. . .. uhm. . . her head needs fixing. If Kelim wishes to speak to me, he can find me there. I'll be there for a few days."