The Ballad of Jimmy Pt 3

Jimmy blinked, his eyes hurt.
He tried to move, where WAS he? His body hurt, everywhere.

His mouth tasted like sulphur, nightshade and maybe something sweet, but mostly like arsehole warmed up.
Jimmy tried to move again, almost achieving a sideways half roll along a stone floor before slumping back.

"Uuughhh..." he groaned. With eyelids open no more than a slit, he let them shield his eyes from the sun beaming through a nearby window as he tried to take stock of his situation. He was surrounded by bags, pouches, chests, and all manner of container. They were packed with weapons, armour, trinkets and fancy clothing. There was furniture strewn about, paintings, rare antiquities he'd never even known existed. Not small amounts, there was masses of everything.

Jimmy had never seen any of these things before.

"Where the hell am I..." he wondered. Yet, when meaning to speak he only managed a croak no louder than a whisper.

"Where...?"

The tiny amount of air expelled from his lungs burned his throat, he coughed, wincing. As tears began to form Jimmy just barely made out a dark shape moving slowly across his vision.
The shape continued along and out of Jimmy's sight behind him somewhere, but Jimmy simply couldn't muster the strength to even crane his neck let alone sit up or stand.

"Have you ever met Father Christmas Jimmy?" the voice queried him slowly in a low voice, Jimmy thought he could hear a hint of sarcasm but couldn't be sure, his brain may as well have been mush and his head felt as though it was filling with more and more air by the second.

"What? Santa?" Jimmy managed two croaks this time.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he could feel a memory, just below the surface, bobbing up and down in a pool of his swirling thoughts.
The voice chuckled, a deep rumble that echoed throughout the stone chamber Jimmy was sprawled out upon.

"You seemed to think so last night." The voice was toying with Jimmy, very obviously amused at his current situation.

Jimmy had a flash in his mind. He still couldn't grab hold of the memory though. He had met someone.

"Bleerrgh", Jimmy the Hand emptied the contents of his stomach on the floor.

"Oh Jimmy..." The voice behind him circled in front, wide eyed and still choking a little Jimmy suddenly realised who it was. This was a Midkemian. The Black Sorcerer himself!

"Gaaahhhh! What... how..", Jimmy scrambled backward. He wished Pug were here, he could deal with Macros, at least Jimmy thought he could.

"Relax Jimmy, how about I fill you in on your night's adventure whilst you clean up that awful mess you just spewed forth. I like to keep a tidy tower you know, and Gathis simply has too many towers in too many realms to maintain."

Macros the Black, legendary Dark Magician from Midkemia clicked his fingers and Jimmy's face flushed red, then deep blue, then a sort of shade of olive with blotches of aqua. Jimmy felt his eyes almost pop out of his head before exploding the remainder of the contents of his stomach in a wide arcing spray.

"Hmm, that too, would you mind?" Macros tossed a mop at Jimmy and motioned toward a bucket, already steaming with hot water.

Jimmy felt better though, great actually.

"Uggh.. thanks, I have no idea what's happened though, what do you mean..." He slowly mouthed the word to himself... "Santa...", "Did I meet Santa Claus?" Jimmy's eyes widened but Macros simply nodded at the pile of filth Jimmy had left on the floor. With a nod of acknowledgement Jimmy looked down and began to clean.

"So young Jimmy, you've been poisoned my boy. I took the liberty of running a few tests on your, ahem, well lets just say I examined the drink you'd had."

Jimmy slowly but surely gained control over the mess. He kept his head down, listening and mopping.

"It seems as though, and I must admit a lack of knowledge on this one thing, that there is indeed a spirit affecting you during this holiday period. Alas, oft is the ways of the Gods and powerful beings, we mortals, even myself, are not privy to the how's nor the why's of much."

Macros continued speaking, now pacing slowly, hands folded behind his back.

"However. It was most assuredly NOT 'Santa Claus', that you claimed so vehemently last night, that you spoke with."

Macros the Black waved his hand around the room slowly, he snapped his fingers and Jimmy lifted his head. Jimmy's gaze following Macro's outstretched palm as he slowly indicated the entire lower floor of the building.

"Do you see all of this? This is yours Jimmy."

Jimmy almost feinted, he'd not seen such vast amounts of... anything before now.

"How do you mean Mac... Master Sorcerer.. ahem, Sir." The rumors about this man had Jimmy almost petrified, stammering to correct himself in addressing the mage.

"Well, do you remember much now? I fear the hallucinogenics that had found their way in to your drinks may well have permanently damaged that part of your mind. I will attempt to repair it, over time, but for now... anything?"

Jimmy shook his head, about to speak he suddenly paused, focused his thoughts and tried hard... he could remember something, someone, somewhere. Alas, nothing specific.

"Wait!" He did remember something. Jimmy announced proudly, as if an achievement had just been earned, "I was to meet with someone! For a drink!"

Macros stopped his pacing, looked toward the roof of the tower and sighed, "As I suspected, you've little concept of the past day or night. I will tell you what I know, perhaps it will jog your memory."

Macros began to tell what he knew, pacing once more keeping one arm behind him, the other waving about emphasizing and driving home points.

"...so getting to the point of the thing Jimmy, you did indeed meet with someone. Someone you know, willingly. It is not they however who poisoned you, far from in fact, they were as confused as yourself. After all, how does one react when a young fellow of your own profession, one whom you have spoken with at times, suddenly starts calling you 'Santa Claus', grinning manically and generally, showing signs of full blown insanity?"

Jimmy looked very, very sheepish. His memory wouldn't return but he felt the shame, how could he have acted so... so...

"Never mind it lad, he and I both know. This wasn't you, not your normal self. Nor was the responsible party the same as the being who has been spreading holiday cheer through you. It doesn't particularly seem how he, ahem, she, er. This being doesn't appear to operate via poisoning. There is no point to harming who can in a sense, be called his 'avatar' in this world".

Macros slowly loosened a pouch at his waist, continuing his explanation of the events.

"I managed to locate your Britannian version of 'Mother's' Jimmy, a quaint place, a little unlike Krondor, but none the less. I gained entry and my word, what a mess you had made! Tsk. Regardless, I did find this among the turned over tables, fallen bookcases and clothing."

The Black Sorcerer produced a small piece of parchment from the pouch and motioned to Jimmy to take it. Jimmy dropped the mop, although to his surprise it simply held itself suspended in mid air. He shook himself from considering it, magic never really was his path, only a few small tricks Pug showed him once.
Upon taking the parchment from Macros, Jimmy's mind jolted. A memory tried to surface and failed, sinking beneath once more. Jimmy unfolded the small square letter and read it.

"Oh." He sighed. He was even more embarrassed now than before, his face reddened and he quite simply didn't know what to do. "Did you speak with him Master Sorcerer?"

Macros nodded once. "Indeed, although as to whether he himself remembers... is yet to be seen. I suggest you do as he did, send a letter to his contact. I'm sure you remember how to do that don't you?"

Jimmy simply nodded and turned, in that moment an ominous looking bird landed on his shoulder seemingly from nowhere. Macros grinned a rare smile at Jimmy's surprise.

"Once you're done cleaning here, do be sure to write the letter. My friend here will take it for you, he knows most ways to most places."

Macros the Black, known by many names upon many worlds, strolled casually toward the staircase and disappeared to an upper level.

"Oh, and Jimmy...", he called down, "Feel free to use this place, you'll need somewhere to store all of these things. It could use a little decor!"

Jimmy was more confused than he had been in a while, but he did as bidden by Macros, he dare not do otherwise. After a long, long while cleaning up his horrid mess, Jimmy found a pen, a little ink and wrote a short letter.

"Friend,

I am embarrassed in writing to you regarding our joint effort last evening.
I must express my humblest apologies, I have been informed that I was far from my usual self.

I should like to meet again, if you are willing. I fear though I will abstain from any beverages, please, let there be no offense taken.

You know where to find me, again.

-J"

At the last before adding a little sand to help dry the ink, Jimmy grinned. Mischievous as ever, he couldn't help but add above his initial. "Thanks Santa", before the midnight coloured bird grabbed it from his hands and flew out the window.

Jimmy looked around the lower floor of the tower, all of this was his. He and his Mockers had a friend to thank for this, someone who no doubt shared in the bounty, although he could not remember a half moment of the events. He felt compelled to trust Macros, although he wasn't sure why.

"The man is dangerous" He thought... then unfolded the small parchment Macros had given him.

Speaking aloud, with a laugh that echoed, a laugh that he hadn't let loose since his troubles had begun a some while ago, Jimmy announced;

"Perhaps not so dangerous as this one though!"

He grinned down at the flawless script. It was simply lettered with no flourishes, yet so perfect was it that the skill of the writer and extreme steadiness their hand was obvious.

"We should talk, meet me for drinks.

-BlackEye"

Jimmy folded the parchment once more, tucked it in to his pocket and began to sift through his hoard, still confused but still grinning from ear to ear.