What has happened thus far: The wizard (rarely known as Rick) and the demi-god (sometimes known as LoDi) were travelling through an enchanted Hesperian forest on a Gator RSX high performance off-road utility vehicle. They were on their way to a conference on Super Natural Power Brokerage, and their trek had been fraught with challenges. The wizard insisted on driving the Gator, the demi-god had a fresh batch of hemorrhoids from bouncing around riding shotgun, and neither was willing to use the GPS Nav system to figure out where they were.

“What in the name of Shel Silverstein is that?” shouted the wizard, as he slammed on the brakes of his mystically conjured, terrain gripping, boondocks taming, internal combustion chariot. In a small clearing, just beyond the obscuring curtain of deciduous foliage, stood a cylindrical shaped brick edifice – built so tall it seemed to climb above the sky and beyond the clouds. “What is that thing?” the wizard asked again, as he tilted his head back (and back and back) in an effort to see the top. He could not.

“Beats me,” answered LoDi, as he also craned his neck, gaped his mouth, and silently wondered why there were never any rest stops along the trails in enchanted forests. “It sure is big,” he said in a way that failed to adequately describe the proportion of scale. “Who do you think built that thing?”

“That would be me,” came a booming voice that rumbled through the woods, like crashing timber when no one is around. “I am Bildr. I am the master mason, and I am tasked with building this chimney. My friends call me Trent.”

“So Trent,” began the Demi-god, as he strained his eyes towards the clouds, trying to see the man behind the thundering vocals.

“I SAID MY FRIENDS CALL ME TRENT!” roared the mason. “You must call me Bildr or you must not call me anything at all.”

“Right,” responded LoDi, a little bit peeved that a guy with a loud voice, hiding someplace in the sky, figured he could tell a demi-god what to do. It was bad enough LoDi had to put up with the wizard refusing to let him drive. “So… Bildr,” he began, again. “Where are you and how did you build this thing?”

“Tourists,” grumbled Trent under his breath. “I told you, I am the master mason, I am tasked with erecting the chimney.”

“Enough!” growled the wizard, as he let loose a couple of lightning bolts from the tip of his wand (just for effect). “Enough with the puzzles and half answers. I am a powerful wizard and my travelling companion is a demi-god. Do not anger us, for you are a mere mortal playing with blocks. Show yourself!”

“Mere mortal, my lactose intolerant derriere!” shouted Bildr. “I have toiled on this task for more than 6,000 years. Playing with blocks, am I?” he blustered. “I showed the Egyptians how to…” Bildr’s voice was so strong and powerful the ground trembled, causing the travelers to wonder if the tower might topple.

At that moment, a door at the base of the brick structure slid open, revealing a well-lit elevator – accompanied by mundane instrumental versions of Billy Joel’s greatest hits. Exiting the elevator strode a purposeful form, with powerful biceps, calloused hands, and a glower in his eyes that equaled the scowl of LoDi’s ex-wife. “I am a mason!” roared Bildr. “I fear no wizard. I do not cower before demi-gods. I hold in my hands the power to BUILD!”

“Chillax,” murmured the wizard. “Aren’t you over compensating, just a little bit there, big-fella?”