An Interview with the Tower Guardian
It was a day like any other. I was busy developing the latest and greatest of updates for the website and had hit upon an idea of sheer brilliance and genius. I knew that my latest creation was going to wow the socks off of everyone and land us accolades and awards beyond our wildest dreams.
(Ok, I was busy filing my nails and painting them with a new color that had recently come out: "Lovely Lunitari Red". I strongly recommend it!)
The rest of the team was doing what they do best. Procrastinating, wasting time, and generally, ensuring that our creative talents were being wasted until the last possible moment. Then I heard the doorbell ring.
*AAWWOOOOOOGAAAAAH!*
I really, really, *REALLY*, want to know who's bright idea it was to install a tugboat air horn there. Not only are my ears ringing, but I now have "Lovely Lunitari Red" all over my hands, not to mention my desk, papers, and keyboard. It's going to take weeks for that to come out.
"Somebody go answer the door!" I yelled out.
Dead silence met my demands.
I looked up from my mess of nail polish. Other than Raisted, who was face down in his keyboard snoring off the effects of last night's ale at the pub, the office was empty.
"Figures," I mumbled. "As soon as there's the potential for work, everyone disappears."
*AAWWOOOOOOGAAAAAH!*
"Lord Chemosh on a pogo stick!" I hollered. "I'm coming, I'm coming!"
Waving my hands around in the hopes of drying what was left on my nails, I ran down the hall and down the stairs, mumbling the entire way. If I could, I'd fire every last one of the lazy bums. Except there were two problems: I couldn't think of anyone else that would take their jobs, and I wasn't paying them. Hard to get any sort of help when you don't have any monetary incentive. I was desperate, they knew it, and they took full advantage of that fact.
*AAWWOOOOO–
I ripped the door open, mid-horn blast. "WHAT IN EVER LOVING BLUE BRITCHES DO YOU WANT?!" I screamed.
(I have a temper. I admit it. It's gotten me into my fair share of trouble too. Niltsiar had to deal a few beatings in my direction because of it. But today, I had an excuse.)
I wasn't prepared for the visitor that was standing... nay, floating, on my doorstep.
Skeletal is one word to describe him. Others that ran through my mind were decrepit, ancient, crusty, moldy, dry, desiccated, moth-eaten, and smelly. Yeah, he smelled like an open tomb that something had crawled into and died. Considering whatever this thing was did classify as some sort of undead thing, it wasn't an unlikely analogy.
He handed a piece of paper to me. I looked at it:
"Yes, and?" I asked.
"I AM HERE ABOUT THE JOB," he responded, in a voice as cold and empty as the grave.
*pause*
"Oh. Well. Um. Ok. I guess I can interview you about it, and see if you're qualified." I didn't bother mentioning that we hadn't had any other applicants or even a response as simple as laughter or "Are you out of your ever loving MIND?!?"
"Waitaminute!" I said. "How'd you get through the Grove of Bad Dreams?"
(Our tower's protective grove, for those that didn't know.)
"GROVE? BAD DREAMS? I MYSELF AM A BAD DREAM. I AM MADE OF THE STUFF OF NIGHTMARES. I HAVE TRAVELLED FROM THE LANDS OF AGONY..."
"Ok, ok, fair enough."
"BESIDES, I DO NOT SLEEP. KIND OF DIFFICULT TO HAVE BAD DREAMS WHEN YOU LACK AN IMPORTANT REQUIREMENT TO DREAM."
"Point taken. Come on up to my office."
"THE AD SAYS THAT YOU LIVE IN A TOWER OF SORCERY. THIS DOESN'T LOOK LIKE A TOWER. IT LOOKS LIKE A WOODCUTTER'S CABIN IN THE WOODS."
"Appearances can be deceiving," I said. "Besides, what our fans don't know won't hurt them. And anyways... we're saving up for the down payment on a mortgage for a real tower. This is just a temporary location." I stopped. Why in the Abyss was I explaining myself? "You're not endearing yourself to me, you know," I told the floaty guy.
"SORRY. JUST MAKING SMALL TALK."
"Well don't. You can talk when we start the interview."
We got into our office area and I pulled one of the other Raistlin's comfy chairs away from their desk. If they wanted to run off when there was work to do, they can suffer with no chair. Placing it in front of my desk, I motioned for the undead applicant to take a seat.
"I'D RATHER STAND."
I gave him my most penetrating stare and stoney silence. His glowing eyes never wavered from mine.
"SIT!" I hollered, pointing at the chair.
I was shocked. He floated over and went through some weird contortions, which I took to be him bending at his waist and readjusting is clothes / rags / whatever it is he was wearing. By the time he was done, he seemed to be sitting upright and straight in the comfy chair.
I made a mental note to myself. "Undead are pliable with stern commands. Check out feasibility of adding undead slaves to the menagerie." I sat down opposite the critter on the other side of my desk, and took out a blank pad of paper. Little did he know, I was going to fly by the seat of my robes for this interview.
Lady Raist: Ok, let's start with the basics. Your name is?
Undead guy: THE TOWER GUARDIAN.
LR: That's it? "Tower Guardian"? That's a name? Sounds more like a description.
TG: THAT IS THE NAME AND TITLE I HAVE GONE BY FOR CENTURIES AND EONS. IT IS ALL THAT I AM AND HAVE BEEN AND WILL BE AND ...
LR: Alright. The Tower Guardian. Noted. Age?
TG: I HAVE NO AGE. I AM CENTURIES, EONS, ALL THAT I HAVE BEEN...
LR: Old. Crusty. Ok. *scribble scribble*. Address?
TG: I EXIST BETWEEN THIS WORLD AND THE NEXT.
LR: Homeless? Transient?
TG: I AM OF TWO EXISTENCES.
LR: I need a location! It's for tax purposes!
TG: THE NEGATIVE MATERIAL PLANE.
LR: Ok. You're a planar denizen. That wasn't difficult was it? What race do you consider yourself to be?
TG: UNDEAD.
LR: Subrace?
TG: UNDEAD.
LR: Has being undead eroded your hearing? I need some details here! If you're a banshee, that's great and all, and I'm sure you'd make a wonderful security guard, but we can't afford the deaths in the office if you go off wailing! I need to know the potential hazards!
TG: OH. LICH. NO HAZARDS, OTHER THAN TOUCH OF FREEZING DEATH. OH, AND A COLD AURA. I HAVE BEEN TOLD IT CAN BE DISCONCERTING AT TIMES.
LR: Great. That's what I was looking for. Now, where'd you see the ad for the position? I'd like to know what methods are working for research purposes.
TG: MY LAST EMPLOYER WAS AN AVID FAN OF YOUR WEBSITE. I USED TO VISIT IT WHEN HE WOULD SLEEP AT NIGHT. I SAW THE AD ON THE SITE. I REMEMBERED IT WHEN MY EMPLOYER DECIDED TO OPEN THE DOORS TO THE PUBLIC AND NO LONGER NEEDED A TOWER GUARDIAN FOR HIS DOMICILE.
LR: Seriously?
TG: NO. I WENT ONLINE AND LOOKED FOR "MAGIC JOBS" ON GOOGLE. THERE WERE VERY FEW RESULTS. THIS WAS ONE OF THEM.
LR: Ah, I see. Ok, you said you had a previous employer. Can you tell me about your past jobs and experience?
TG: I WAS ORIGINALLY RAISED TO SERVE THE GREAT FISTANDANTILUS, A VERY POWERFUL BLACK ROBE MAGE OF THE GREATEST POWER EVER. I GUARDED HIS TOWER OF HIGH SORCERY IN ISTAR FOR MANY YEARS, ENSURING NO TRESPASSERS GAINED ACCESS TO THE TOWER ITSELF, AND WHEN VISITOR'S WERE ALLOWED IN, THEY WERE POLITELY DISSUADED FROM EXPLORING THE RESTRICTED AREAS OF THE TOWER.
AFTER THE DESTRUCTION OF ISTAR AND THE FALL OF THE TOWER THERE, I FOUND MYSELF SERVING AT ANOTHER TOWER OF HIGH SORCERY, THIS TIME IN PALANTHAS. THESE MAGES ARE A TIGHT BUNCH, AND IT IS EASY TO TRANSFER POSITIONS BETWEEN THE TOWERS. IF PALANTHAS HAD NO NEED OF ME, I WAS TOLD WAYRETH WOULD BE INTERESTED IN UTILIZING MY SERVICES.
I SERVED FOR SEVERAL YEARS AT THE PALANTHAS TOWER, WORKING FOR BOTH BLACK AND RED ROBES. MY DUTIES WERE QUITE A BIT LIGHTER COMPARED TO WORKING UNDER FISTANDANTILUS, AS THE TOWER IN PALANTHAS WAS OPEN TO MANY STUDENTS OF THE MYSTICAL ARTS. I WORKED MOSTLY FOR SOME OF THE HIGHER LEVEL WIZARDS, GUARDING DOORS AND WORKSHOPS FROM INTERRUPTIONS.
WHEN THE TOWER WAS ABANDONED BY THE WIZARDS, A BLACK ROBE WIZARD CURSED THE TOWER. IT FELL INTO DISUSE AND RUIN FOR MANY YEARS. DURING THIS TIME, I GUARDED IT FROM ANY INTRUSION, AWAITING THE NEW TENANT, THE "MASTER OF PAST AND PRESENT".
AFTER SOME TIME, A YOUNG WIZARD NAMED RAISTLIN CAME TO THE TOWER. I WAS NOT LAX IN MY DUTIES, AND HE WAS ALMOST DESTROYED BY ME. UNFORTUNATELY, HE WAS THE NEW TENANT, WHICH NO ONE BOTHERED TO TELL ME. YOU THINK THEY COULD HAVE SENT AN ADVANCE WARNING LETTER ALONG THE LINES OF "New tenant arriving! Be prepared for gold colored sickly mage. Do not kill." I WAS LUCKY THAT I KEPT MY JOB. NOT TOO MANY EMPLOYERS WOULD KEEP YOU AROUND AFTER YOU TRIED TO LEECH THEIR LIFEFORCE OUT OF THEM.
LIKE FISTANDANTILUS, RAISTLIN DESIRED PRIVACY AND SECURITY. I ENSURED NO ONE WAS ALLOWED TO PASS THE FRONT DOOR UNLESS THEY PROVIDED SECURITY CLEARANCE. IT WAS A RELATIVELY EASY JOB AS THE SHOIKEN GROVE DISSUADED MOST FROM ATTEMPTING TO TRY TO SELL US COOKIES.
AFTER A PERIOD OF TIME, RAISTLIN HIRED DALAMAR, AN ELF, TO APPRENTICE UNDER HIM. DALAMAR WAS ALSO A GOOD EMPLOYER, TAKING OVER AFTER RAISTLIN WENT THROUGH A PORTAL AND NEVER CAME BACK.
EVENTUALLY, DALAMAR OPENED THE TOWER OF PALANTHAS TO THE PUBLIC AGAIN, AND STARTED TAKING IN STUDENTS. THESE STUDENTS AND WIZARDS WERE OF A NEW GENERATION. THE USE OF UNDEAD SERVANTS WAS SEEN AS ARCHAIC, AND IN THE NEW LANGUAGE "SO 4TH AGE". INSTEAD, OTHER METHODS AND CREATIONS WERE USED FOR GUARDING AND ENFORCING THE RULES SO THE TOWER DOWNSIZED.
FOR THE FIRST TIME IN OVER 300 YEARS, I FIND MYSELF UNEMPLOYED. I DID CHECK OUT DARGAARD KEEP, IN CASE SOTH NEEDED A NEW BUTLER, BUT IT REALLY SEEMS TO BE DEAD OVER THERE. I STARTED DOING SOME SEARCHING THROUGH MONSTER.COM, BUT THEY DON'T HAVE A LOT OF JOBS GEARED TOWARD SOMEONE OF MY AGE AND EXPERIENCE.
LR: ...
TG: * waits *
LR: ...
TG: EXCUSE ME? MISS?
* poke *
LR: Huh wha?!? I wasn't sleeping. Just resting. We work very hard here you know. Very little time to take care of necessary things like sleeping and eating.
TG: I HAVE WORKED WITH WIZARDS FOR MANY YEARS. I UNDERSTAND.
LR: So, you worked for a few wizards in several towers?
TG: YES. I HAVE WORKED FOR SOME OF THE GREATEST WIZARDS EVER TO WALK THIS WORLD. FISTANDANTILUS, DALAMAR, AND EVEN THE GREAT RAISTLIN.
LR: Yes, yes. Big wizards, all powerful, take over the world sort of guys. Very good. So your job consisted of tower guardian type things? Ensuring security, guarding the place from intruders, that sort of thing?
TG: YES.
LR: Ok, what about experience in secretarial work? Ever do anything like that?
TG: PARDON?
LR: Secretarial stuff. Office management. Things like letter writing and answering phones and such.
TG: I DON'T THINK RAISTLIN OR FISTANDANTILUS HAD MUCH USE FOR AN OFFICE ASSISTANT.
LR: Well, that's what we're looking for. Someone who can take care of the office. That means not only guarding it from the gnomes and kender that knock on our door, but also taking care of clients, penning letters, mail drops, and buying paperclips.
TG: ... UM ... UR...
LR: Oh nothing major. Just things that wind up getting put off around here because the site updates take a little more priority than answering our fan mail. All you'd have to do is copy and paste form letters and send them out.
TG: WELL, I GUESS IT MIGHT BE MANAGEABLE AROUND MY OTHER DUTIES AS A GUARDIAN.
LR: Oh yes. Nothing too stressful. Except for the newsletter.
TG: NEWSLETTER?
LR: Yes, we're starting a newsletter about the website. It would be the responsibility of the office assistant to write up a short newsletter with each update, announcing that there's been an update and what articles are posted. It's a genius idea, if you ask me. We'll be able to keep in touch with our loyal fans and ensure that they're kept in the loop about important Krynn-shattering news and that they need to check our site for the latest and greatest creations! We've already started the list, we just need someone to maintain it and write out the announcements.
TG: WELL. UM. I GUESS I COULD MANAGE THAT TOO.
LR: Great! Well you're hired then!
* I whip out a few pages from inside a hidden drawer in my desk *
LR: Sign here, here, here, and here.
TG: WHAT IS THIS?
LR: It's an employee contract. Nothing major, just acknowledging that you're aware of your duties, your probationary period, in which we can remove you from duties for any reason, your acknowledgement of the risks and uncertainties surrounding the position (minor), and other such magical broo-ha-ha, which I'm sure you're more than adequate to handle, given your centuries of experience around other talented and powerful wizards of high orders.
TG: I SEE. SO BY SIGNING THIS, I AM HIRED? I WILL HAVE THE JOB?
LR: Yep. So far you've been our best (and in fact, only) applicant, and we really need the position filled as soon as possible. You want the job, we want a body to fill it, so everyone's needs are met, we're all happy. Sounds good to you?
TG: I GUESS. I MEAN, HOW DIFFERENT CAN AN OFFICE ASSISTANT BE COMPARED TO MY PREVIOUS JOBS?
LR: Precisely! And if you discover that you don't like it, you can always renegotiate the contract with us.
TG: SOUNDS GOOD. I WILL SIGN THEN.
The undead lich took the pen I offered him and scratched his signature in the various locations I pointed out.
LR: Great! We'll get you started right now then! If you just follow me, I'll show you around the Tower and where you'll find most of your supplies.
I got up and headed down the hall. I pointed out the various rooms, such as the kitchen, bathroom, offices, and closets.
LR: Here we have the office supply closet. Things like paperclips, elastics, paper, envelopes, and anything else we'll need at the desks is stored here. And next to the office supply closet is the broom closet with brooms, mops, buckets, rags, and various cleaners.
TG: PARDON ME?
LR: Office supply closet on right. Broom closet on left. Right, left. Office, broom. Make sense?
TG: YES, BUT WHY ARE YOU SHOWING ME THE BROOM CLOSET?
LR: Because you'll need the supplies in it.
TG: EXCUSE ME, BUT THE JOB DESCRIPTION SAID OFFICE ASSISTANT. NOT JANITOR.
LR: Oh, you mean you didn't read the fine print?
TG: WHAT FINE PRINT?
I pull out a magnifying glass and hold it over a print out of the ad:
TG: YOU ARE KIDDING ME?
LR: Not at all! We're wizards of great power and mystery. You honestly can't see us down on our knees, getting our robes soiled, while scrubbing toilets? Besides, we have a website to run. That's why we need an office assistant. You should have read your duties more carefully.
TG: I AM AN ANCIENT AND POWERFUL LICH, WHO HAS SERVED UNDER MASTERS MORE GREATER THAN YOU CAN EVER HOPE TO BE!
LR: And yet you're still incapable of reading closely. That's why you're a lich serving masters instead of being a master yourself. Now grab that bucket there and follow me. I had a few mishaps in my training room the other day, and still haven't been able to get the stains out.
TG: THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS! I WILL NOT STAND FOR HAVING MY POWERS MOCKED! IT WAS BAD ENOUGH YOU WANTED ME TO FILL PRINTERS AND BRING YOU NEW PENS! NOW YOU WANT ME TO CLEAN THE LOO??
LR: No, you can clean the loo later. Right now, I need you to clean my training room! My slaves are a bit tied up at the moment.
TG: NEVER! I WILL NOT STOOP THAT LOW! I WILL FIND ANOTHER TOWER MASTER TO SERVE!
LR: Excuse me, but that paper you signed? I take it you didn't read that either. You're indentured here for the next year, on pain of eternal exile to a location of our choosing, guaranteed to be a place of unhappiness, pain and torture for you. I'm sure cleaning up a few messes here and there, as well as bringing us coffee in the morning is a much more likeable alternative.
TG: NEVER! YOU WILL NOT HOLD ME! I AM LEAVING!
LR: Suit yourself. I'll be consulting with our crystal balls and lawyers. I'm sure one of them will be able to figure something out, as we do have your signed consent.
He stormed away. Well, I can't really say it was storming, as an undead floating creature really doesn't have the body parts necessary to stomp and frazzle his way out of the door. I did hear the door slam down the hall though. I hoped he'd get caught up in the Grove of Bad Dreams, whether he thought he was the epitome of a bad dream or not. Because not only was I out an office assistant / janitor, I had to get a hold of the lawyers and start dealing with the broken contract. Lawyers are worse than ogres that smell blood on the air. They always want money, and coinage was something that was always in short supply lately.
*AAWWOOOOOOGAAAAAH!*
BLEEDIN' ELVIS!
First thing I was going to do, even before calling the lawyers, was find the gnome that put that horn up there! And *then* I was going to make sure he experienced the full pleasure of my dungeon and ensure he never saw the light of day again! Then I'm going to stuff that airhorn where Nuitari doesn't shine. Then I'll call the lawyers.
I opened the door. There stood the Tower Guardian. If a lich could ever look defeated, he was the definition of it.
"What do you want?" I asked. "Didn't you have better things to do than scrub our sinks?"
"Yes," he responded. "But then I realized that with the change of magic and gods, and even the undead and the world as it is, there's no place for a lich in this world any more. The only reason I applied for this job was because I couldn't find anything else. I wasn't even sure if you would hire a lich, but I figured trying was better than nothing. And when you do find it in your heart to offer me the position, I threw it all back to you, all because I felt it was beneath me. Until things change, I don't think I have too many other options. What else am I going to do? Start my own tower and magical study? Sounds great, until the local populace gets upset about all the undead minions rampaging the countryside and they send a group of heroes to deal with me. Right now I'm looking for security. How much trouble can it be to take care of a group of wizards? I've been doing it for years. So the ‘care' part is a bit different than I'm used to. I'll learn."
I paused. Was this the same lich with the "DEATH AND DOOM" that stormed out my door not even two minutes ago? I couldn't tell... a lich is a lich is a lich. One undead looks much the same as the other.
"Well, I guess that's fine then," I responded. "Maybe we shouldn't have overloaded you so much on your first day. If you want the job, it's yours. Although I do have to add, we're out of space in the Tower for lodgings for you. I did notice though, the broom closet has space in it, if you want to use that for sleeping in."
He began to bristle. Then slumped his shoulders in defeat.
"Sure, I guess. It's not like I sleep much anyways."
"Perfect!" I exclaimed. "Come in, come in! I'll introduce you to the rest of the team. And instead of jumping right into cleaning my dungeon, you can take today to familiarize yourself with the place. Check things out, talk to the others, whatever you want to do. By the way," I added, "what happened to the voice? You know... the BIG DEATH VOICE?"
"It works for impressing wizards. You guys don't seem to be an impressionable lot, so I figured I might as well drop it. It tends to give me a headache. Besides, I think I was just wasting my talents on a group of no-name hacks like you," he whispered under his breath. I ignored the comment. The poor guy was obviously stressed out.
"So, here's the team, scattered around. Nilstiar is our fearless leader, purveyor of plants. You'll want to keep away from his rose bushes. He tends to them himself, and gets a little antsy if others touch them. Besides, you never know what he's growing in there... it might like the taste of lich, so it's best just to avoid them. Raistlynn there, she likes her tea with a touch of cinnamon and honey. Don't ever mess up the measurements. She's cute, she's sweet, but she likes things her way and don't you forget it. She'll probably have you washing her frilly things too, so be careful that you don't mix hers with mine! The colors will definitely run and her pinks won't be happy getting ruined by my reds. Raistlame is over there, doing his latest research... "
*BLEARRRRRGHHH!*
"And *that* lovely team mate would be Raisted. How about you go fetch that mop and bucket before his offering to the toilet gods ruins the carpet?"
"YOU WANT ME TO CLEAN UP BARF???"
"Why yes... probably on a regular basis too, as that's Raisted's typical contribution. You don't have a sense of smell, last time I checked the biology of lichdom. Nor a stomach that qualifies as useable. I don't see the issue. Now I've got two words for you. Chop chop."
"I HAVE NEVER IN A HUNDRED YEARS..."
"Yes?" I tapped my foot on the floor.
"Saw a mop and bucket as cute as these. Guess I'll get moving on that. Holler if you need me. I'll just be over here, mopping up vomit."
"You're going to get along with us marvellously dear."
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