Balanthalus' eerie ship sped toward the island, still many hours ahead of  the Argio and laughably far away from Bazil.  He was doing backflips and all sorts of other exercises to prepare him for the booby traps he somehow knew he must face.  However, he was not yet used to acrobatics on a swiftly moving ship, and several times he almost fell off of the USS Butthead.
   (When he first translated the name from the side of the ship, he looked at the skeleton captian increduoulsy.  "The USS Butthead?!?!"
   The skeleton looked at him sheepishly and stared at his feet (as much as a being with no eyes or face for that matter can do) and said in a shaky, etheral voice, "Arr mortal, I'll give ye some free advice that will serve ye well.  If ye ever get yerself a ship, ne'er allow your teenage son to name it.")
   Bal was broken out of his meditative state by a ghostly "Ahoy!  Land ho!"  The isle!  He had reached it at last!  The bard looked out to the horizon . . . but saw nothing.
   "Wait," he said to the crew, "why are we lowering the sails?  The island's not here!"
   "No," whispered the skeleton crew, "tis in the deeeeeeeeeeep."
   Balanthalus looked into the ocean, thought for a moment, than withdrew the pheonix medallion from his clothing.  Instinctively, he threw it into the ocean.  He saw a familiar underwater blaze after a moment, then was amazed at what happened.  The entire island was rising from the depths!  It was a rather small island, but it was almost completely covered in a large temple.  In fact, it seemed that the island was too small to support the temple and that only the power of the medallion would keep it from sinking again.  He hoped that its power would last long enough for his purpose.  The bard also became aware of the fact that his ship was slowly sinking.
   "Ye must swim fer shore, matey," said the skeleton captian, "this can no longer be yer ship . . . unless ye can find the medallion again . . . we will continue to protect ye, but ye must find yer own way home."
   Bal looked at his crew, tears in his eyes at their dedication, said a simple "Thank you," then, with a smile and a nod, jumped off the side of the sinking USS Butthead and swam to the island.  He noticed the crew starting to slowly walk the plank.  It appeared they would walk along the bottom a short way, then climb up on the island to guard the entrance.  Balanthalus
took a breath, then walked into the temple . . .

   Meanwhile, Bazil was having problems.  The thing licking at his feet?  That was a large and ugly ogress.  (Are there any small and cute ones out there?)  Before he had regained enough faculty to speak, she had nibbled, then bit, then chomped, until he had no left foot!  Finally, the mage managed a scream.
   "Uh-oh," said the ogress, "I must apologize for that.  Usually when humans are chained in my dungeon, they're dead.  The mage, you see, leaves me presents.  But it seems that this time he's given me a live one who's into bondage."  Before Bazil could react, the ogress gagged him and secured still more chains onto him, then began to undress.  (And believe me, it was
NOT a pretty sight)
   Bazil tried to speak, but couldn't.  He tried to struggle, but not only were the chains very strong, the mage's spell had sapped all his strength.  He tried to, well, not give the ogress any ideas, but heck, it was cold.  He closed his eyes as the grimy form of the ogress started to touch him in very uncomfortable ways . . .
 
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