The Stone Henges were said to have been set by the Sons of Cain in the days before even the Nielda had begun to travel through the stars. They could be found on every major species' homeworld, save that of the Nielda, and even the homeworlds of most of the less important species. But they were also found on thousands, if not millions of worlds that had been home only to trees, grass, and rodents, who the Sons of Cain may well have brought with them. The first one that the Nielda had found had been on Appeni, known even after the Frostbourne war as a garden world. It had been found by the sage of that world, a woman named Ceanne. But on the records, the first one discovered was found three years later on Decidua, the homeworld of the Ga-Vok.
The first explorers had discovered the greatest property of the stones that very same day. In trying to escape the Ga-Vok, the team's mage had tried to set wards on the stone circle, already a safe point as a result of its location and design. Instead, he managed to trigger the magic already set upon the stones and found that they projected an impenetrable barrier. Thousands of years later, a Gascan princess and general tried to breach one of these barriers, causing incredible damage to the surrounding hillside and permanently altering her own appearance. Her name was Tala, and she always referred to it as one of her only two failures in life.
They had other properties too. While the barrier was active they could generate enough food to satisfy the hunger of their inhabitants. Waste, excrement and otherwise, seemed to magically non-exist within the barrier. And there was always your first choice of beverage on the altar stone. And none of it seemed to be affected by any of the laws that normally governed those sorts of enchantments. There was no power source, save perhaps the stones themselves, and none of it seemed to come from or go too anywhere. Official statements from both top enchanters and scientists, and the military, stated that this was clearly a divine or 'natural' magic.
Of course, this wasn't the first stone circle that Kate Immersfeld had encountered. She'd basically done her dissertation on the matter, and this one defied any of her prior knowledge. The stones were cracked, and the altar was riven. But those were merely physical problems, any team of Imperial Guard relic restoration specialists could have fixed that. The problem was that the magic felt wrong.
Now magic was not generally a natural thing, so its hard to say that it ever felt right. But this was a particular, and she found this part especially bothersome, familiar sort of wrong. She'd felt it on her trip to visit the circle on Anatolia, the whole planet felt like this. The Library at the Arcane Academy felt somewhat like this, but more muddled. It was the way a demon's magic felt. And even on Anatolia the circle had felt, for lack of a better word, shiny. But here it felt rather the way that a black hole behaved, like a puncture in the fabric of whatever it existed in. You felt drawn towards it, but it was also dangerous to get too close.
But if Arcania, for so she called herself, was anything, it was curious.
"ZeeGee, you want to have a look?"
The cold around her coalesced into a sort of man shaped white mist. The Frost King, who's true name she alone knew, would have been more than a match for most any threat that faced them. But Arcania knew that the same could have been said of her, for she had studied magic her whole life, and had the strength and skill to kill nearly anything that they would face.
Including, as she had proven in the past, a demon.
"My lady, I do not believe that would be wise. This presence is powerful beyond anything we have encountered in the past. I do not wish to see you come to harm."
"Oh dear, is it really that powerful?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Then I guess we'll just have to both go." And she climbed over the fallen stone and into the circle proper. ZeeGee fell weirdly silent, although she was aware of his yelling to her. The rest of the world seemed so far away all of a sudden, like it was another plane of existence.
"Good. Good. Just as Legion predicted. I am glad all my years of waiting shall finally pay off."
"Hello Demon. Shall we start by you telling me your name and end with me banishing you from existence?"
"Overconfident, bold, and powerful are three of my favorite traits in an immortal. You have them all. You shall do quite well as the figurehead for my armies."
"And you'll be a fine story to tell my sisters. Are we going to stand her all day or will you just stand there talking like my mother?"
Arcania had been too involved in the banter and she realized it as the first blow came. Not from in front of her, where a shadowy giant stood, but from behind. A tendril of darkness caught her by the leg and flung her against the stones. She lashed out with a flurry of sharp, icy blades, severing the tendril and a dozen like it. She erected a barrier against the rest and incanted a series of wards against demonic assault. But they all fell away as soon as they'd been incanted. The circle's enchantments hadn't just been broken, they'd been inverted! She couldn't get out, she couldn't be protected, and she was starting to feel hungry.
"I like your trap, its very clever."
"Oh do you now? I rather hoped you'd appreciate it, I've put a lot of thought into how I'd bring you under my domination."
Arcania sundered the earth beneath his feet, forcing him to unfurl his vast leathery wings. A hail of her favored frozen flechettes cut through them and she joined them with a wave of raw arcane energy. His wings were left tattered, though still functioning, but he brushed off her magical onslaught with little regard for the effect it would have had on any other manner of being. But that was as she expected for a demon, its main purpose was to occupy the monster's vision while she prepared a ray of light. And as the demon's form showed through the blast, she loosed the pure white ray. It missed the demon's heart, but tore through its abdomen. She could hear its bones splinter as her blast glanced off of them. It howled in pain, but it was not beaten. She found herself barely able to shield herself against the barrage of corrupted bolts that it cast, and as she deflected one beam of devastating power after the next she tripped over another one of the Shadithic tendrils that emanated from the circle itself. The Demon caught her under a press of shadowy power, and the last thing she remembered seeing was the hatred in its eyes and the black blood flowing from the wound she'd dealt it.
Showing posts with label Short Stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Short Stories. Show all posts
Friday, April 13, 2012
Friday, February 24, 2012
Short Story; The Empress' Daughter
Kate Immersfeld liked nothing better than a good book.
Her mother, the Empress of Gravaga, Dark Lady Thalia Immersfeld, high necromancer of all yada yada yada, was rather supportive of her interests, and had gladly provided her with access to a library full of every imaginable sort of book. Books about fairy tales, faerie tails, spelling books and booking spells. The non-fiction section could have filled a battleship, and it paled by comparison to the reference section. But the section Kate liked to spend her time in the most was fiction.
Fairy tales were fun, full of mystical magics and witty heroes. Stories of chivalrous knights who rescued the princess from horrible fates, sometimes with the aid of the horrible Fates, were the ones that she always loved best. She liked entertain the fancy that someday a handsome knight might come along and rescue her from the monotony of the palace. They would ride off on his white stallion, she would wear white and they would rule a quiet corner of her mother's kingdom in peace and harmony. Haelio perhaps, with its tranquil gardens; or maybe Calcifron, she would certainly like to spend time in a library of her own there, where it always seemed to snow.
Kate sighed and returned a few of the worn tomes to the shelf, each one exactly where she'd set it so many times before. It wasn't as though there was a lack of things to do on Gravaga. The palace was always bustling, preparing for the coming of the next band of heroes or the comings and goings of her mother's chosen villains. In only a few hours she would be expected to make an appearance herself. Be the dragon to her mother's menace and humiliate the hero. They'd be back of course, and she was already preparing the spells that would make her defeat seem more real, but today she would win and send them searching out her father, the one the populace called 'old cloaky'. She often considered what would happen if she just killed them, or even if she threw the fight early. It would make her parents annoyed at the least, but it would definitely give her more time to read. It was just a question of whether or not it would be worth the trouble.
She picked up her staff and marched off through the door. It didn't even take her an invocation to make the door bring her out in front of the marauding party of heroes.
"Where did you think you were going?"
"We're here to put an end to the dark lady's reign of terror!"
"Yeah, don't even try to stop us!"
"Oh, is that it then? Alright, go on."
They stood there staring at her blankly. She could feel the warriors behind the camera's hidden all around them flipping through their copies of the script, trying to figure out what was going on. It made no difference to her whether they took up her offer or not, her mother would defeat them if she didn't. More likely than not, they'd find the throne room empty. Kate had it on reliable account that her parents were, to put it simply, enjoying their marital privilege. If that were the case then they would simply wander around the palace for a while until Sarah came home and either ran them off or screwed with them, possibly without the 'with'. There was really no way of telling which Sarah would do this time. If they were really unlucky though, they'd find Cyssie's lab. If they lived through that experience, they'd never adventure again. Not that Cyssie would ever purposefully hurt anyone, just that her particular brand of science and magic tended to leave little room for mortality.
"Don't do it, she's trying to trick us."
"I don't know; maybe she's the other sort of princess. You know, the not-evil kind."
"She's Thalia's daughter, of course she's evil."
"And I'll bet she's just the sort of person who would try and trick us."
"She can't be evil, she's pretty. Evil people have to use magic to be pretty."
"What if she's using magic?"
Bit of an interesting turn there, most of the time they went out of sight to discuss her appearance. She always heard them of course, but this group was a more bold than most.
"Can any of you use magic? You could just try and dispel my enchantments, that would get rid of any illusions I might be using."
They stopped and stared at her. Kate knew she was pushing the envelope now. She was being outright friendly with them by her usual standards, it'd have people talking for weeks. Her parents would probably have to rewrite scripts over this. She had to suppress a smile at the thought of her father up to his elbows in edits.
"How do we know this isn't a trick?"
She plucked a flower out of the air. It seemed like a flower anyways; she'd actually just simultaneously formed a flower from frost and enchanted it to be incredibly difficult to destroy. She'd always found that hard to destroy actually turned out much more durable than merely indestructible the way most enchanters did it. Indestructible had loopholes, durable was just really tough. It would also keep it from melting, something that would have taken indestructible an extra spell. Kate leaned in and set it on his armor, letting the ice adhere the flower to his left breast, where the pocket would have been had it been a shirt.
"You can't. But if you're smart, then you should leave now. My mother isn't here anyways, she's reviewing the armies on Negath. My favor will grant you passage through the Empire without question, and grant you access to all but the most clandestine of locations."
The staring never seemed to cease today.
"Go, run before my sister comes. If she sees you she will surely kill you all. Good luck fair hero, I will watch your adventures with great interest." She opened the door to the library and glanced back for a moment before delivering a final line. "Great interest indeed."
Kate closed the door and collapsed against the wall laughing. She felt so horridly wicked for having toyed with them like that. But the rush that came from defying her parent's plans was like nothing she'd ever done before. Maybe now they'd think twice about making her just a gatekeeper to the palace. Now maybe they'd let her play the part she really wanted, now she could be a princess.
Her mother, the Empress of Gravaga, Dark Lady Thalia Immersfeld, high necromancer of all yada yada yada, was rather supportive of her interests, and had gladly provided her with access to a library full of every imaginable sort of book. Books about fairy tales, faerie tails, spelling books and booking spells. The non-fiction section could have filled a battleship, and it paled by comparison to the reference section. But the section Kate liked to spend her time in the most was fiction.
Fairy tales were fun, full of mystical magics and witty heroes. Stories of chivalrous knights who rescued the princess from horrible fates, sometimes with the aid of the horrible Fates, were the ones that she always loved best. She liked entertain the fancy that someday a handsome knight might come along and rescue her from the monotony of the palace. They would ride off on his white stallion, she would wear white and they would rule a quiet corner of her mother's kingdom in peace and harmony. Haelio perhaps, with its tranquil gardens; or maybe Calcifron, she would certainly like to spend time in a library of her own there, where it always seemed to snow.
Kate sighed and returned a few of the worn tomes to the shelf, each one exactly where she'd set it so many times before. It wasn't as though there was a lack of things to do on Gravaga. The palace was always bustling, preparing for the coming of the next band of heroes or the comings and goings of her mother's chosen villains. In only a few hours she would be expected to make an appearance herself. Be the dragon to her mother's menace and humiliate the hero. They'd be back of course, and she was already preparing the spells that would make her defeat seem more real, but today she would win and send them searching out her father, the one the populace called 'old cloaky'. She often considered what would happen if she just killed them, or even if she threw the fight early. It would make her parents annoyed at the least, but it would definitely give her more time to read. It was just a question of whether or not it would be worth the trouble.
She picked up her staff and marched off through the door. It didn't even take her an invocation to make the door bring her out in front of the marauding party of heroes.
"Where did you think you were going?"
"We're here to put an end to the dark lady's reign of terror!"
"Yeah, don't even try to stop us!"
"Oh, is that it then? Alright, go on."
They stood there staring at her blankly. She could feel the warriors behind the camera's hidden all around them flipping through their copies of the script, trying to figure out what was going on. It made no difference to her whether they took up her offer or not, her mother would defeat them if she didn't. More likely than not, they'd find the throne room empty. Kate had it on reliable account that her parents were, to put it simply, enjoying their marital privilege. If that were the case then they would simply wander around the palace for a while until Sarah came home and either ran them off or screwed with them, possibly without the 'with'. There was really no way of telling which Sarah would do this time. If they were really unlucky though, they'd find Cyssie's lab. If they lived through that experience, they'd never adventure again. Not that Cyssie would ever purposefully hurt anyone, just that her particular brand of science and magic tended to leave little room for mortality.
"Don't do it, she's trying to trick us."
"I don't know; maybe she's the other sort of princess. You know, the not-evil kind."
"She's Thalia's daughter, of course she's evil."
"And I'll bet she's just the sort of person who would try and trick us."
"She can't be evil, she's pretty. Evil people have to use magic to be pretty."
"What if she's using magic?"
Bit of an interesting turn there, most of the time they went out of sight to discuss her appearance. She always heard them of course, but this group was a more bold than most.
"Can any of you use magic? You could just try and dispel my enchantments, that would get rid of any illusions I might be using."
They stopped and stared at her. Kate knew she was pushing the envelope now. She was being outright friendly with them by her usual standards, it'd have people talking for weeks. Her parents would probably have to rewrite scripts over this. She had to suppress a smile at the thought of her father up to his elbows in edits.
"How do we know this isn't a trick?"
She plucked a flower out of the air. It seemed like a flower anyways; she'd actually just simultaneously formed a flower from frost and enchanted it to be incredibly difficult to destroy. She'd always found that hard to destroy actually turned out much more durable than merely indestructible the way most enchanters did it. Indestructible had loopholes, durable was just really tough. It would also keep it from melting, something that would have taken indestructible an extra spell. Kate leaned in and set it on his armor, letting the ice adhere the flower to his left breast, where the pocket would have been had it been a shirt.
"You can't. But if you're smart, then you should leave now. My mother isn't here anyways, she's reviewing the armies on Negath. My favor will grant you passage through the Empire without question, and grant you access to all but the most clandestine of locations."
The staring never seemed to cease today.
"Go, run before my sister comes. If she sees you she will surely kill you all. Good luck fair hero, I will watch your adventures with great interest." She opened the door to the library and glanced back for a moment before delivering a final line. "Great interest indeed."
Kate closed the door and collapsed against the wall laughing. She felt so horridly wicked for having toyed with them like that. But the rush that came from defying her parent's plans was like nothing she'd ever done before. Maybe now they'd think twice about making her just a gatekeeper to the palace. Now maybe they'd let her play the part she really wanted, now she could be a princess.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Short Story: Ski Trip
[Might be PG-13, would definitely be by my rating system. ]
"Are you ok?" Krell called as he hurriedly stumbled to her side.
"I'm embedded in a tree, what do you think smarty-pants?" She was in fact embedded in a tree, a Nepalyan Scrimul to be specific. Now Rea would be the first one to admit that it had been a while since she'd been skiing, but when you'd lived for as long as she had, a few decades was nothing, especially compared to how long it had been since she'd ridden a bike.
"Stupid question, would you like some help getting out of the tree?"
Wasn't that sweet of him? Not that she couldn't do it herself, but it'd make him feel better to help. And It'd probably be good for her to show a bit of trust. Thalia had always been telling her how she needed to let other people in, how she was so closed off.
"Not that I couldn't get myself out, but yeah, that'd be nice."
"Ok." He took her hand and braced himself against the tree. She'd rather expected him to use magic, but apparently he didn't think it necessary. Maybe she hadn't been as embedded as she thought she was.
"Thanks," She brushed herself off and pulled a spar from her leg. "I don't know what happened, I must have miscalculated my momentum."
"Here, let me fix that." He sat down and rolled the leg of her pants up. She barely even noticed the pain, not so much out of the numbing to the sensation born of her many years of experience as out of shock at his boldness. And yet it was a..pleasant sort of shock, and she found herself anticipating his actions, rather than frightened by them. He lowered his hand onto the wound, the cold mountain air being driven off by the warmth of his spellcraft, and she felt her flesh weaving itself together beneath it. He didn't utter a word until after he'd gently rolled the heavy garment back down to her ankle. "Better?"
"Yes, thank you." She swallowed her breath, trying to hide what she'd just felt. He rose, not noticing, and held out a hand. She took it and joined him. "I don't know what's going on with me lately. I'm tripping over myself all the time, I broke that man's arm on accident in the hotel the other day, and now I slide out of control into a tree. What's going on?"
"You're...your body changed a fair bit recently, and with as accustomed to your old, younger body as you were you're probably having to adapt a lot to the new height and..uhm..proportions."
Proportions? "Are you calling me fat?"
"No. Nothing like that, just..you have..I mean your..nevermind."
"Oh." She blushed, and tore them through space back down the mountain, a safe distance from the hotel, and started walking towards it. "I'm sorry for snapping at you like that. I've just been so moody lately."
"Its ok, I understand. Let's go get some Hot Chocolate."
"With whipped cream?" She stopped and smiled back at him.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Short Story; One of the Bad Guys; Redux
"Oh get stuffed you thin-whiskered little twit; there ain't a chance in fat heck that Petra, the legendary demon hunter, would ever end up with a demon, no matter how repentant he was."
"I swear, it's true. Heard it from one of them Yellsdana out on Cantrell."
"A Yellsdana? Next you'll tell me that Empress Thalia, the destroyer, isn't dead, but rather has been left without memory or any recognizable feature."
Typical tavern trash; thought the elegantly dressed maid. Washed up adventurers, and the wantabe young twerps who hoped to learn from them; not a single one amongst them able to do battle with any real enemy. Of course, the villains on the other side of the room had neither the gall nor the grace to deserve even the pathetic efforts of this gutless band of refuse.
She felt a twinge in some deep part of her being as she thought of how much better things had been under the Pax Gravaga. In the days of the necromancer, when even the powers that be wouldn't have dared send their militaries to dispatch of a local tyrant without first consulting with the High Necromancer herself. Ah now those were the days when a tavern like this would have been filled with the sort of rip-roaring tales that rattled bones and lifted spirits both liquid and metaphysical. Real tales, tales by the sort of adventurer who knew the value of a decent healer, some eye shadow, and a little bug spray.
"Hey,you spilled my drink!"
"OH! My mistake, I'm very sorry."
"And all over my armor. Do you know how dangerous rusty armor can be? Someone could drive a spear right through that and kill me. That spilled drink could kill me!"
"I'm sure it can be replaced; how much would you like for it?"
"I'm going to want a little more than money to pay for you risking my life." He grabbed her by the arm. She barely noticed the change, but something in her seemed to react instantly.
"Very well, if that's what you require please step into the alley. I will follow."
"No, you'll go first. How stupid do you think I am?"
"Very; however, if word of this reaches my mistress I may lose my job for endangering the life of one of our visitors. As such, I am obligated to comply," She licked her lips for effect. "Fully."
He grinned cruelly and stood up. "Alright then, you've got ten minutes."
"I understand." She watched him leave. As soon as the door closed she scowled. Filthy pig would get what he deserved. She reached into the folds of her dress and plucked a kukri, a wicked looking knife designed by ancient Humans, out of them. She opened the door into the alley and found the man waiting, fully prepared for the expected act. As soon as he saw the knife though he snatched his axe from his haphazzardly discarded belongings and proceeded to defend himself with more expertise than she had given him credit for.
Just as the man began to overpower her, he stumbled and howled in pain. As he fell to his knees, dropping his axe, she saw a towering man with a crystaline long sword standing behind him.
"Weakling. I barely broke the skin. If you want to be a real adventurer then you're going to have to deal with far worse then a mere nick like that." She could see his chestnut beard in the dim light that came from the sword, but the rest of his face, and much of his body, was hidden by a dark brown cloak. "Not that you'll have the chance now, you've gone and angered the Lady. Son, if I were you, I'd apologize and pray to God she was in a good mood."
"The (&#$ old man! Why'd you have to cut my legs?" She heard his shoulder pop, and then crack, as the man twisted his arm and then applied devestating pressure to the joint. The man began crying audibly in between groans.
"Watch your language, or else I'll have to watch it for you." The man looked up and she could make out his eyes. There was something in them that smoldered; loss, or maybe just anger. "Are you ok?"
"Yes."
"Should he live?"
She thought for a second. Her mistress had, in truth, given her the right to dole out justice as she saw fit within the district. And as she could think of few more heinous crimes, it seemed only fitting that she dole out an appropriate justice.
"He should be turned over to the authorities. The Blood Guard will attend to him."
"Is that what you wish?"
"No."
His blade was silent as it did its work. And no sooner was it done than he had departed. Liss departed soon thereafter. After all, a maid's work was to clean up the mess.
"I swear, it's true. Heard it from one of them Yellsdana out on Cantrell."
"A Yellsdana? Next you'll tell me that Empress Thalia, the destroyer, isn't dead, but rather has been left without memory or any recognizable feature."
Typical tavern trash; thought the elegantly dressed maid. Washed up adventurers, and the wantabe young twerps who hoped to learn from them; not a single one amongst them able to do battle with any real enemy. Of course, the villains on the other side of the room had neither the gall nor the grace to deserve even the pathetic efforts of this gutless band of refuse.
She felt a twinge in some deep part of her being as she thought of how much better things had been under the Pax Gravaga. In the days of the necromancer, when even the powers that be wouldn't have dared send their militaries to dispatch of a local tyrant without first consulting with the High Necromancer herself. Ah now those were the days when a tavern like this would have been filled with the sort of rip-roaring tales that rattled bones and lifted spirits both liquid and metaphysical. Real tales, tales by the sort of adventurer who knew the value of a decent healer, some eye shadow, and a little bug spray.
"Hey,you spilled my drink!"
"OH! My mistake, I'm very sorry."
"And all over my armor. Do you know how dangerous rusty armor can be? Someone could drive a spear right through that and kill me. That spilled drink could kill me!"
"I'm sure it can be replaced; how much would you like for it?"
"I'm going to want a little more than money to pay for you risking my life." He grabbed her by the arm. She barely noticed the change, but something in her seemed to react instantly.
"Very well, if that's what you require please step into the alley. I will follow."
"No, you'll go first. How stupid do you think I am?"
"Very; however, if word of this reaches my mistress I may lose my job for endangering the life of one of our visitors. As such, I am obligated to comply," She licked her lips for effect. "Fully."
He grinned cruelly and stood up. "Alright then, you've got ten minutes."
"I understand." She watched him leave. As soon as the door closed she scowled. Filthy pig would get what he deserved. She reached into the folds of her dress and plucked a kukri, a wicked looking knife designed by ancient Humans, out of them. She opened the door into the alley and found the man waiting, fully prepared for the expected act. As soon as he saw the knife though he snatched his axe from his haphazzardly discarded belongings and proceeded to defend himself with more expertise than she had given him credit for.
Just as the man began to overpower her, he stumbled and howled in pain. As he fell to his knees, dropping his axe, she saw a towering man with a crystaline long sword standing behind him.
"Weakling. I barely broke the skin. If you want to be a real adventurer then you're going to have to deal with far worse then a mere nick like that." She could see his chestnut beard in the dim light that came from the sword, but the rest of his face, and much of his body, was hidden by a dark brown cloak. "Not that you'll have the chance now, you've gone and angered the Lady. Son, if I were you, I'd apologize and pray to God she was in a good mood."
"The (&#$ old man! Why'd you have to cut my legs?" She heard his shoulder pop, and then crack, as the man twisted his arm and then applied devestating pressure to the joint. The man began crying audibly in between groans.
"Watch your language, or else I'll have to watch it for you." The man looked up and she could make out his eyes. There was something in them that smoldered; loss, or maybe just anger. "Are you ok?"
"Yes."
"Should he live?"
She thought for a second. Her mistress had, in truth, given her the right to dole out justice as she saw fit within the district. And as she could think of few more heinous crimes, it seemed only fitting that she dole out an appropriate justice.
"He should be turned over to the authorities. The Blood Guard will attend to him."
"Is that what you wish?"
"No."
His blade was silent as it did its work. And no sooner was it done than he had departed. Liss departed soon thereafter. After all, a maid's work was to clean up the mess.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Short Story; The Doctor's Orders, Part Two
Credits; Petra,
"...And that's why you should never, give a sword both a flaming enchantment, and a blood-chill enchantment."
The class laughed. She'd been telling the story for years, its effects had worn off for her. Most of her stories were like that though now. She had the feeling her adventures were drawing to a close, even though she had won her last battle. It was only a matter of time before she would be the teacher of new heroes only, never herself the hero. If she was lucky she might get to follow along as a mentor, she'd done that before. In fact, it seemed to be happening more and more.
"Well, that's all the time we have for today. For homework this semester, enchant something that can be neither worn nor wielded. I want you to bring me a weekly progress report, in the usual format of course. Proposal and plan on my desk next week."
"Word count?"
"Four. Or however many you feel you need to say what you need to say."
The class jotted down notes and filed out. She sat back down at her desk. It was only the second day and she was already tired. Admittedly she was still rather spent from her fight two days ago, but somehow her heart just wasn't in it this semester. Maybe some of her colleagues would have some insight. They'd all probably had such times before. She stood up and stepped out. She'd always doubled up her classroom with her office, and with all her files safely stowed in subspace there was no risk of theft. She locked the room anyways. Occasionally some evil student would try and set a booby trap up under her chair. While she had never failed to either detect or easily defeat the traps, it was easier to just make the door impassable.
"Miss Zinksfeld! Miss Zinksfeld!"
"Yes?" A young man in a black robe had run up. He was winded and perspiring heavily. He wasn't overweight, just out of shape, must have been a first year student then.
"Miss Zinksfeld, everyone says you killed a demon in Stormguarde over winter break."
"Everyone seems to be rather in the know."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Is it...Is it true?"
"Strictly speaking, yes, I did kill him. But I didn't exactly beat him so it hardly counts."
The boy clearly didn't care that the odds had been stacked in her favor from the start. With Courtney, Nao, and the ranger corps to fight the warlocks and Rea and Krell to help it would have been enough, even if Tala hadn't planned it all out from the start. Legion hadn't stood a chance. He'd come anyways though. Surely he'd known, but that was one of the things she'd always respected about him, he always fought even though he knew he would lose. And now his death was heralded by mere children, not even full grown and hardly a match for him at his weakest state.
She continued up towards the stairs that lead to the lounge. She hadn't visited in ages, litterally ages. The last time she'd come was after Yuri's funeral, because they'd been having a party and she wanted to take some of her sorrows out on the pinata. The room was empty save the headmaster. He was an old man with a long white beard. He wasn't actually old, and he certainly didn't have a beard, but it was what people expected of the headmaster of the universe's most prominent school of magic so he had made himself look that way in spite of himself.
"Seamus, I thought you would be at lunch with everyone else?"
"Professor Zinksfeld! I didn't know you even came here."
"I don't, not normally at least."
"Ah, well then, have you met the new mending and healing instructor?"
"Didn't know the position was empty to be honest with you."
"Really? His death recieved a great deal of press."
"I've been a bit...distracted lately."
"Well, no matter. Come, you should meet him. Most extraordinary gentleman i've ever met. Turned up out of the blue last day of winter break and asked if I had any positions open. I asked if he knew anything about healing and he said he did. He proved it too, healed everyone in the infirmary and even explained how he did it and what had happened to them."
"Sounds suspicious, maybe I should meet him." She reached for her sword out of habit and sighed as she remembered. If he was a threat she'd kill him by spell alone.
No, she'd let someone else handle it. She'd promised them she'd retire. And this is what that meant; not saving the world. It'd take some getting used to.
"I thought so too. Its one of the reasons I want you to meet him. After all, perfectly qualified candidates rarely show up on one's doorstep unprompted and uncalled for."
Petra nodded in agreement. She followed him back down the stairs. They turned a corner and headed up the long hall that lead to the infirmary. It was still quiet, two days of school had left the students little time to get injured. Some of them seemed to have managed it anyways, and fell silent as they saw Petra and the Headmaster enter the office of the new Healer.
Petra remained silent as they faced the new instructor. The headmaster however, stepped right up to the desk and rapped on it lightly. A young man closed the cupboard door to her right and stepped out from behind it. He was handsome, and Petra found that her mind could take in little more than that.
"Ah, Shad, I want you to meet Professor Petra.."
"Miss Zinksfeld." The young man interrupted. "I do believe we may have met before."
"We have?"
"You have?"
"Yes, several times in fact. Perhaps you remember Corun, or Tara?"
"Quite well, but I do not remember you on either."
"Perhaps if I introduce myself. My name is Shad Alnutsrevn."
It took more courage for her to speak now than it had ever taken before. She did not know the face, but she knew the name, for it was the name she had bourne at her side, bound in blood and steel. But she had to speak or she would never forgive her own silence. "Headmaster, could I have..a..a moment. With.."
"Of course. Get to know each other." He leaned in and whispered. "Tell me how things go later." And then stepped out. Petra was almost afraid to see him leave. She could feel her heart beating like the flapping of a hummingbird's wings. But this was what she'd always wanted wasn't it? A chance to...
"I missed you, old friend."
"...And that's why you should never, give a sword both a flaming enchantment, and a blood-chill enchantment."
The class laughed. She'd been telling the story for years, its effects had worn off for her. Most of her stories were like that though now. She had the feeling her adventures were drawing to a close, even though she had won her last battle. It was only a matter of time before she would be the teacher of new heroes only, never herself the hero. If she was lucky she might get to follow along as a mentor, she'd done that before. In fact, it seemed to be happening more and more.
"Well, that's all the time we have for today. For homework this semester, enchant something that can be neither worn nor wielded. I want you to bring me a weekly progress report, in the usual format of course. Proposal and plan on my desk next week."
"Word count?"
"Four. Or however many you feel you need to say what you need to say."
The class jotted down notes and filed out. She sat back down at her desk. It was only the second day and she was already tired. Admittedly she was still rather spent from her fight two days ago, but somehow her heart just wasn't in it this semester. Maybe some of her colleagues would have some insight. They'd all probably had such times before. She stood up and stepped out. She'd always doubled up her classroom with her office, and with all her files safely stowed in subspace there was no risk of theft. She locked the room anyways. Occasionally some evil student would try and set a booby trap up under her chair. While she had never failed to either detect or easily defeat the traps, it was easier to just make the door impassable.
"Miss Zinksfeld! Miss Zinksfeld!"
"Yes?" A young man in a black robe had run up. He was winded and perspiring heavily. He wasn't overweight, just out of shape, must have been a first year student then.
"Miss Zinksfeld, everyone says you killed a demon in Stormguarde over winter break."
"Everyone seems to be rather in the know."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Is it...Is it true?"
"Strictly speaking, yes, I did kill him. But I didn't exactly beat him so it hardly counts."
The boy clearly didn't care that the odds had been stacked in her favor from the start. With Courtney, Nao, and the ranger corps to fight the warlocks and Rea and Krell to help it would have been enough, even if Tala hadn't planned it all out from the start. Legion hadn't stood a chance. He'd come anyways though. Surely he'd known, but that was one of the things she'd always respected about him, he always fought even though he knew he would lose. And now his death was heralded by mere children, not even full grown and hardly a match for him at his weakest state.
She continued up towards the stairs that lead to the lounge. She hadn't visited in ages, litterally ages. The last time she'd come was after Yuri's funeral, because they'd been having a party and she wanted to take some of her sorrows out on the pinata. The room was empty save the headmaster. He was an old man with a long white beard. He wasn't actually old, and he certainly didn't have a beard, but it was what people expected of the headmaster of the universe's most prominent school of magic so he had made himself look that way in spite of himself.
"Seamus, I thought you would be at lunch with everyone else?"
"Professor Zinksfeld! I didn't know you even came here."
"I don't, not normally at least."
"Ah, well then, have you met the new mending and healing instructor?"
"Didn't know the position was empty to be honest with you."
"Really? His death recieved a great deal of press."
"I've been a bit...distracted lately."
"Well, no matter. Come, you should meet him. Most extraordinary gentleman i've ever met. Turned up out of the blue last day of winter break and asked if I had any positions open. I asked if he knew anything about healing and he said he did. He proved it too, healed everyone in the infirmary and even explained how he did it and what had happened to them."
"Sounds suspicious, maybe I should meet him." She reached for her sword out of habit and sighed as she remembered. If he was a threat she'd kill him by spell alone.
No, she'd let someone else handle it. She'd promised them she'd retire. And this is what that meant; not saving the world. It'd take some getting used to.
"I thought so too. Its one of the reasons I want you to meet him. After all, perfectly qualified candidates rarely show up on one's doorstep unprompted and uncalled for."
Petra nodded in agreement. She followed him back down the stairs. They turned a corner and headed up the long hall that lead to the infirmary. It was still quiet, two days of school had left the students little time to get injured. Some of them seemed to have managed it anyways, and fell silent as they saw Petra and the Headmaster enter the office of the new Healer.
Petra remained silent as they faced the new instructor. The headmaster however, stepped right up to the desk and rapped on it lightly. A young man closed the cupboard door to her right and stepped out from behind it. He was handsome, and Petra found that her mind could take in little more than that.
"Ah, Shad, I want you to meet Professor Petra.."
"Miss Zinksfeld." The young man interrupted. "I do believe we may have met before."
"We have?"
"You have?"
"Yes, several times in fact. Perhaps you remember Corun, or Tara?"
"Quite well, but I do not remember you on either."
"Perhaps if I introduce myself. My name is Shad Alnutsrevn."
It took more courage for her to speak now than it had ever taken before. She did not know the face, but she knew the name, for it was the name she had bourne at her side, bound in blood and steel. But she had to speak or she would never forgive her own silence. "Headmaster, could I have..a..a moment. With.."
"Of course. Get to know each other." He leaned in and whispered. "Tell me how things go later." And then stepped out. Petra was almost afraid to see him leave. She could feel her heart beating like the flapping of a hummingbird's wings. But this was what she'd always wanted wasn't it? A chance to...
"I missed you, old friend."
Short Story; The Doctor's Orders, Part One
Credits; Petra,
"Welcome students."
"Good Morning."
"My name," She turned to the chalkboard and conjured a piece of chalk in a little burst of sparks. "Is Professor Petra Zinksfeld. I will be your enchanting instructor." She turned back and smiled. "I will also teach you magic."
The class tittered and giggled at her comment. Petra lost no time, she started sketching alchemical patterns onto the board. She used an old fashioned green chalkboard because it made the patterns look cooler. It had an archaic feel that rather fit the field.
First year students, nobody particularly special, kind of a dissapointing year over all. Petra went to sit down and instinctively reached to move her sword out of the way. It wasn't there. She'd forgotten it while she was teaching, but since she'd gotten up that morning she'd been leaning to the right and bumping into things. The weight of blade and scabbard had been like a third arm, her body was so used to compensating for it that she had to actively think just to walk straight. It was so...wierd. She went through the day listless. She wasn't even sure if that was the right word for it, she'd never felt like this before. She had always had a purpose. Now she had nothing. No more sword, no more hunting demons, no more.. Well that was a good thing, right? He'd killed trillions, ruined lives, and..and then he'd saved Rea. She wasn't even the first. She'd seen it happening for years now, Shades would attack, kill immortals, and then for some reason there would be no collateral damage, no dead guards, and even innocent maids who said they'd died and had the clothing damage and blood stains to prove it. He hadn't just been sparing lives; he'd been outright saving them. He was one of the prime evils of the universe and he'd been doing undeniable good. And he couldn't have possibly gained by doing so. Other demons would have turned on him if they thought he was being humane.
"But that isn't the only reason you miss him, is it miss?" Petra's cat leapt up onto the desk and planted itself on the homework assignments she'd been trying to distract herself with.
"I swear I have no idea what you mean Siggy."
"Scratch my chin while I explain your repressed emotions." Petra obediently set down her pen and scratched the half spectacled tabby, who purred as he began to explain. "It all starts with your feelings yowards your parents. You saw the happiness your mother derived from your father and were envious of her. This is, of course, natural for any child. But when your father died and your mother permitted it, you felt as though perhaps there were something wrong with men. Your mother, being who she was, could not have been wrong to take him. So when your mother replaced the time she had spent with your father with hunting demons, some large part of you felt that demon hunting must be the only worthy pursuit. So in place of the usual dating and marriage that any normal woman goes through, you had the hunting of demons. And your natural desire to impress your mother became a perfectionist streak which lead you to become the best at fighting demons. And I should consider it fortunate that such was the case, for you met a demon of the highest caliber. At first you fought, and you spoke as you talked and you studied each other when you did not fight, until one day he realized something. On that day I think he changed. He stopped mourning his defeats and began to view his fights with you as something more of an encounter. I could go into great length about the symbolic nature of your repeated dominance over him, and of the significance of your impaling him on every encounter, but the sun is very warm on your desk and I like it here."
"You have a very dirty mind Herr Kitty. But continue, you shan't be quiet unless I let you finish."
"Quite right, I would yowl at my bowl quite early tonight if you were to stop me."
"and then play with my hair until dinner?"
"I think I may do that anyways, you're wearing the most fascinating baubble today and I feel the need to paw at it." Petra sighed. There was no controlling the poor man and his love of shiny, dangly things. "But I digress. I think that somewhere during that time you too ceased to view it as a battle. To turn a phrase, you forged a friendship through crossed swords. And I think, if only by your current state, that perhaps it was something more than a friendship."
"Well, I never. Me and..and Legion! He's a demon. Or at least he was a demon. I would never even dream of.."
"Oh but you have. Perhaps not to your memory, but we cats are quite perceptive of our companion's unwaking fantasies."
"Stop! I'll hear no more of this talk. Me, fantasizing about him, a demon; that's deplorable, even from you Sigmund." Petra stood up and walked to the door. She paused at it, considering his words before hearing his parting shot.
"You may repress your feelings as deeply as you wish. It shall not change them."
"Welcome students."
"Good Morning."
"My name," She turned to the chalkboard and conjured a piece of chalk in a little burst of sparks. "Is Professor Petra Zinksfeld. I will be your enchanting instructor." She turned back and smiled. "I will also teach you magic."
The class tittered and giggled at her comment. Petra lost no time, she started sketching alchemical patterns onto the board. She used an old fashioned green chalkboard because it made the patterns look cooler. It had an archaic feel that rather fit the field.
First year students, nobody particularly special, kind of a dissapointing year over all. Petra went to sit down and instinctively reached to move her sword out of the way. It wasn't there. She'd forgotten it while she was teaching, but since she'd gotten up that morning she'd been leaning to the right and bumping into things. The weight of blade and scabbard had been like a third arm, her body was so used to compensating for it that she had to actively think just to walk straight. It was so...wierd. She went through the day listless. She wasn't even sure if that was the right word for it, she'd never felt like this before. She had always had a purpose. Now she had nothing. No more sword, no more hunting demons, no more.. Well that was a good thing, right? He'd killed trillions, ruined lives, and..and then he'd saved Rea. She wasn't even the first. She'd seen it happening for years now, Shades would attack, kill immortals, and then for some reason there would be no collateral damage, no dead guards, and even innocent maids who said they'd died and had the clothing damage and blood stains to prove it. He hadn't just been sparing lives; he'd been outright saving them. He was one of the prime evils of the universe and he'd been doing undeniable good. And he couldn't have possibly gained by doing so. Other demons would have turned on him if they thought he was being humane.
"But that isn't the only reason you miss him, is it miss?" Petra's cat leapt up onto the desk and planted itself on the homework assignments she'd been trying to distract herself with.
"I swear I have no idea what you mean Siggy."
"Scratch my chin while I explain your repressed emotions." Petra obediently set down her pen and scratched the half spectacled tabby, who purred as he began to explain. "It all starts with your feelings yowards your parents. You saw the happiness your mother derived from your father and were envious of her. This is, of course, natural for any child. But when your father died and your mother permitted it, you felt as though perhaps there were something wrong with men. Your mother, being who she was, could not have been wrong to take him. So when your mother replaced the time she had spent with your father with hunting demons, some large part of you felt that demon hunting must be the only worthy pursuit. So in place of the usual dating and marriage that any normal woman goes through, you had the hunting of demons. And your natural desire to impress your mother became a perfectionist streak which lead you to become the best at fighting demons. And I should consider it fortunate that such was the case, for you met a demon of the highest caliber. At first you fought, and you spoke as you talked and you studied each other when you did not fight, until one day he realized something. On that day I think he changed. He stopped mourning his defeats and began to view his fights with you as something more of an encounter. I could go into great length about the symbolic nature of your repeated dominance over him, and of the significance of your impaling him on every encounter, but the sun is very warm on your desk and I like it here."
"You have a very dirty mind Herr Kitty. But continue, you shan't be quiet unless I let you finish."
"Quite right, I would yowl at my bowl quite early tonight if you were to stop me."
"and then play with my hair until dinner?"
"I think I may do that anyways, you're wearing the most fascinating baubble today and I feel the need to paw at it." Petra sighed. There was no controlling the poor man and his love of shiny, dangly things. "But I digress. I think that somewhere during that time you too ceased to view it as a battle. To turn a phrase, you forged a friendship through crossed swords. And I think, if only by your current state, that perhaps it was something more than a friendship."
"Well, I never. Me and..and Legion! He's a demon. Or at least he was a demon. I would never even dream of.."
"Oh but you have. Perhaps not to your memory, but we cats are quite perceptive of our companion's unwaking fantasies."
"Stop! I'll hear no more of this talk. Me, fantasizing about him, a demon; that's deplorable, even from you Sigmund." Petra stood up and walked to the door. She paused at it, considering his words before hearing his parting shot.
"You may repress your feelings as deeply as you wish. It shall not change them."
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Short Story; Mum's the Word
Credits; Tala,
"Vhat is it Svel?"
Tala looked away from the dark Taran skys at the mention of the Count's use of her other name, the one that only members of the pantheon, like themselves, knew. The gray clouds and rumble of distant thunder suited both her and the Count. It was the atmosphere expected by his visiting children, and the weather fit her tastes more often than not. She turned around and leaned against the balcony. It was, or had been at least, one of her Father's properties. She'd purchased it from her great-grand niece, and then signed it over to the Count as a Umpty thousand and somethingth birthday present. It wasn't as though he needed another castle, but she'd always liked the four poster in the master bedroom and it was nice for him to have somewhere local. He didn't look it, but he was many years her elder, and unlike many immortals he'd managed to neither grow old nor remain young. Instead, Vlad had achieved a sort of dignified middle age. He looked old enough to be her, well that wasn't quite fair. Truth be told neither of them had stayed young. The Count had been aging slowly for thousands of years, so slow that few even noticed, but Tala always went to certain lengths when they were together, particularly to avoid people thinking he was her disturbingly physical father.
"Nothing, I was just thinking."
"Svel, you never just think. I know you to vell to fall for that."
"Did Yuri ever forgive me?"
Vlad stiffened. Tala couldn't blame him. She'd abandoned him with their child, had he done so to her she would have likely never spoken to him again. It was a testament to his patience that she was even still allowed into the castle. But she wasn't about to miss her son's funeral. It was..it was the right thing to do. She may not have been any sort of mother, but he'd been a fine son, the best anyone could hope for.
"No. I do not believe that he did."
"I..I wish I could go back."
"There are many things ve vish ve could undo. But ve must live vith the things ve have done. You should not have left. But I should not have tried so hard to make you stay. You vere to young then, you vere not ready to be a vife, much less a mother."
"I would have gotten used to it. I would have learned to enjoy it."
Vlad began to massage her shoulders lightly. He had spent years perfecting the technique, and Tala could feel her body relaxing as he worked out all of the stress and tension of the day.
"No my little storm cloud, you would not have. You still could not; some people simply aren't meant to be housevives. You are one of those vimen." He leaned over and kissed her neck. "Vhich is good, because ve all need you in the field."
"Why didn't I marry you when I had the chance?"
"Because you were afraid."
"I was afraid, so I ran off and killed demons. Good thing I didn't marry you, that kind of crazy is contagious."
"I should probably get tested then." She could feel him smiling. It was one of those wierd vampire things, they had this sort of aura. Normally it was just a way of appearing more spooky and dangerous, but Vlad had a way of letting it show all of his feelings and emotions. He was still grieving Yuri, but he'd buried the sadness with the body. He'd lost a lot over the ages, Yuri was not his firstborn; although he was certainly his closest in body, mind, and spirit. But being together again was certainly cheering them both up. And right about now, face to face with her own failure, her weakness, she needed some cheering up.
___---___---___---___---___
"To my father I give my record collection, my dancing shoes, and an amulet bearing the curse of grooves; for the hippest guy I know." Vlad blushed. Tala was used to it as one of the other bearers of the rare honor of having made the count blush. The memorial service had been short; only a few family had been invited, Yuri hadn't had many surviving friends. The King of Tara had attended, but he hadn't been mentioned in the will so he'd already departed. Petra, his mentor and school teacher, was the only person in the room who didn't share his blood, including the lawyer.
"To my Granddaughter, Courtney, I grant my cloak. Its enchanted so that anything you wear goes well with it, and it will keep you warm through even the darkest, coldest winter. I also leave her Vestine's martial arts simulation programs, which she will doubtless find most enlightening."
The young woman in question stood and curtsied gratefully before she wiped a tear from her eye. Vampires weren't normally emotional, but Yuri had been a much beloved patriarch.
"For Professor Petra Zinksfeld, my mentor and favorite teacher, I offer only a little wisdom and my entire stockpile of enchanting ingredients. 'You once told me that I already had the greatest treasure a man could ever hope for; you were right, now go be some nice boy's treasure. Its the one thing your mother never regretted doing."
"God I'll miss that little brat."
"And lastly, for a woman to whom I owe it all, I leave Tala, the storm mage, my forgiveness. You may not have been there for me growing up, but don't think I didn't spot you watching over me. I may never have liked what you did, but I learned to love you in spite of it Mom."
Vlad had a handkerchief out just in time. Tala normally did a very good job controlling herself. But Vlad knew that sometimes even the brightest, most terrifying little cloud had to rain a little.
"Vhat is it Svel?"
Tala looked away from the dark Taran skys at the mention of the Count's use of her other name, the one that only members of the pantheon, like themselves, knew. The gray clouds and rumble of distant thunder suited both her and the Count. It was the atmosphere expected by his visiting children, and the weather fit her tastes more often than not. She turned around and leaned against the balcony. It was, or had been at least, one of her Father's properties. She'd purchased it from her great-grand niece, and then signed it over to the Count as a Umpty thousand and somethingth birthday present. It wasn't as though he needed another castle, but she'd always liked the four poster in the master bedroom and it was nice for him to have somewhere local. He didn't look it, but he was many years her elder, and unlike many immortals he'd managed to neither grow old nor remain young. Instead, Vlad had achieved a sort of dignified middle age. He looked old enough to be her, well that wasn't quite fair. Truth be told neither of them had stayed young. The Count had been aging slowly for thousands of years, so slow that few even noticed, but Tala always went to certain lengths when they were together, particularly to avoid people thinking he was her disturbingly physical father.
"Nothing, I was just thinking."
"Svel, you never just think. I know you to vell to fall for that."
"Did Yuri ever forgive me?"
Vlad stiffened. Tala couldn't blame him. She'd abandoned him with their child, had he done so to her she would have likely never spoken to him again. It was a testament to his patience that she was even still allowed into the castle. But she wasn't about to miss her son's funeral. It was..it was the right thing to do. She may not have been any sort of mother, but he'd been a fine son, the best anyone could hope for.
"No. I do not believe that he did."
"I..I wish I could go back."
"There are many things ve vish ve could undo. But ve must live vith the things ve have done. You should not have left. But I should not have tried so hard to make you stay. You vere to young then, you vere not ready to be a vife, much less a mother."
"I would have gotten used to it. I would have learned to enjoy it."
Vlad began to massage her shoulders lightly. He had spent years perfecting the technique, and Tala could feel her body relaxing as he worked out all of the stress and tension of the day.
"No my little storm cloud, you would not have. You still could not; some people simply aren't meant to be housevives. You are one of those vimen." He leaned over and kissed her neck. "Vhich is good, because ve all need you in the field."
"Why didn't I marry you when I had the chance?"
"Because you were afraid."
"I was afraid, so I ran off and killed demons. Good thing I didn't marry you, that kind of crazy is contagious."
"I should probably get tested then." She could feel him smiling. It was one of those wierd vampire things, they had this sort of aura. Normally it was just a way of appearing more spooky and dangerous, but Vlad had a way of letting it show all of his feelings and emotions. He was still grieving Yuri, but he'd buried the sadness with the body. He'd lost a lot over the ages, Yuri was not his firstborn; although he was certainly his closest in body, mind, and spirit. But being together again was certainly cheering them both up. And right about now, face to face with her own failure, her weakness, she needed some cheering up.
___---___---___---___---___
"To my father I give my record collection, my dancing shoes, and an amulet bearing the curse of grooves; for the hippest guy I know." Vlad blushed. Tala was used to it as one of the other bearers of the rare honor of having made the count blush. The memorial service had been short; only a few family had been invited, Yuri hadn't had many surviving friends. The King of Tara had attended, but he hadn't been mentioned in the will so he'd already departed. Petra, his mentor and school teacher, was the only person in the room who didn't share his blood, including the lawyer.
"To my Granddaughter, Courtney, I grant my cloak. Its enchanted so that anything you wear goes well with it, and it will keep you warm through even the darkest, coldest winter. I also leave her Vestine's martial arts simulation programs, which she will doubtless find most enlightening."
The young woman in question stood and curtsied gratefully before she wiped a tear from her eye. Vampires weren't normally emotional, but Yuri had been a much beloved patriarch.
"For Professor Petra Zinksfeld, my mentor and favorite teacher, I offer only a little wisdom and my entire stockpile of enchanting ingredients. 'You once told me that I already had the greatest treasure a man could ever hope for; you were right, now go be some nice boy's treasure. Its the one thing your mother never regretted doing."
"God I'll miss that little brat."
"And lastly, for a woman to whom I owe it all, I leave Tala, the storm mage, my forgiveness. You may not have been there for me growing up, but don't think I didn't spot you watching over me. I may never have liked what you did, but I learned to love you in spite of it Mom."
Vlad had a handkerchief out just in time. Tala normally did a very good job controlling herself. But Vlad knew that sometimes even the brightest, most terrifying little cloud had to rain a little.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Short Story; One of the Bad Guys
Cast; Thalia,
"Stop right where you are. No man is permitted within the dark lair of the Grand Necromancer Thalia."
"Oh lay off Thalia, we're just here to see if you want to go get some coffee or something."
"Only if you remember the secret joke and brought the candles."
"I did bring the candles but really? Is this necessary?"
Thalia lifted her chin so she could look down at them. It wasn't, even she knew it wasn't, but she wouldn't let it go unless they did it anyways.
"Fine, why did the chicken cross the road?"
"I don't know, why did the chicken cross the road?"
"Because you killed it, reanimated it, and made it cross the road."
Nobody laughed, it wasn't supposed to be funny. It was just another one of the stupid things Thalia's friends had to put up with; the way other people had to deal with nasal laughter or compulsive drumming, they had to deal with secret jokes and ritualistic evil. The only real difference was that Thalia did it on purpose, where most people can't help nasal laughter. Still, she could beat any tacsim team in school alone and blindfolded, something they knew because she'd actually insisted on proving it. Furthermore, she was well known as the most capable villain in the academy, despite having the lowest RAE (Random Acts of Evil) score of any student. Most good students had a higher RAE then she did, but even the most randomly evil student in school couldn't match her when it came to constructing and carrying out a plot. Not that all her plots were bad, her April Fools Day jokes were enthusiastically anticipated by even the staff and no one dared miss her Halloween Masquerade, both because of the impressive buffet and general good time and because of the horrible things she did to anyone who RSVP'd and didn't come, came and didn't RSVP, or was invited and neither RSVP'd nor came. If you were invited, you came and you told her ahead of time, no one had ever been able to figure out what happened to poor Willi Jenkins and even the authorities were afraid to ask. Less out of the fear of Thalia then out of the fear of her lengthy explanations.
"Good, where were you all thinking of going?"
"Kal's Kafe, Ben's got a huge crush on one of the barmaids."
"Alright, is this everyone?"
"Yeah, unless Julie decides to come, in which case Thon and Sarah won't go because she's still sore about the breakup and would just make things unpleasant. And if Sarah doesn't go then Rachel and Ulah might come because they're both not talking to her because she beat Joel in a duel this morning and made him look bad. And..."
"Julie should have known better because Thon had been cheating on Rena with her in the first place, I give it a week before he starts cheating on Sarah too; he's on the list. Sarah shouldn't have made Joel look so bad this morning, but he should have practiced; and Rachel and Ulah should suck it up, everyone knows Joel's not interested in either of them anyways. But it doesn't matter because Thon and Sarah will be there," She snapped and a cloud of smoke rushed around them, fading to reveal them at Kal's. "Because there is here, and we are there, which is now here. See how much easier that is to do then to say?"
"We aren't supposed to learn Mass Teleportation until year eight! How do you do that?"
"It's like teleporting one person, only you teleport more people. Its just like any other mass spell, you just expand the target range and do it."
"I mean, how are you capable of it?"
"Because I have more practice."
"Practice alone couldn't make you three years more advanced than the rest of us!"
Thalia nodded and walked over to the counter. There was a pretty blonde girl running back and forth hurrying to keep all of the drink orders filled. Thalia watched her spill a little bit on one of the men as she set a mug down too fast. She didn't even notice and started to turn away to keep working but the man, a brawny adventurous type by the looks of his sword and chain mail, reached over the counter and grabbed her roughly by the arm.
"You spilled my drink missie."
"I'm very sorry, I'll get you a new one."
"And you got it on my armor, do you know how much harm that beer of yours could do to my armor? If it gets rusty then someone could drive a spear right through it and kill me. Your spilled beer could kill me."
"I'm very sorry, if you let me go I can get you a new drink and we'll clear your tab."
"That's not going to pay for new armor missie. I'm going to need something a little more valuable then some free drinks if you don't want me to take this up with your manager."
"Please sir, let go."
Thalia couldn't take much more of this. Now she was a villain, she'd always been a villain, and she'd always be a villain but there were some things she just would not stand for. So while all her classmates stood by and watched the evil that was unfolding Thalia laid, incubated, and hatched a plan to extract the poor girl from her predicament.
"Excuse me sir, I believe your father keeps birds and your mother's got a fuzzy upper lip."
"What?"
"Oh, my apologies. I didn't realize you were only human. That will make this so much easier."
"What in tarnation is your problem sweet cheeks?"
"My problem is that I'm sitting over here all alone and all the handsome men are over here flirting with this bimbo." She thumbed at the blonde, who was too terrified to even register the insult. "How about you and a friend meet me out back?" She winked at him, just in case her point hadn't been clear enough already.
The man didn't hesitate, and quickly tapped one of his friends and began gesturing at her. They both started laughing and headed towards the door. Thalia leaned across the counter and quietly patted the barmaid's hand.
"Go take your fifteen, I'll have someone cover for you."
"T-thank you miss, but my boss would fire me."
"Tell him Thalia said you could, if he tries to fire you anyways I'll give you his job."
"W-what?"
"I'm the owner." Thalia pulled a fistful of knuckles from a little satchel on her belt and threw them into the air. "Masterless bones, heed my command: dispense beverages, collect money, and end fights ye bartenders damned." Five Skeletons landed, caught rags and began wiping mugs. Then with one raspy voice they leaned across the counter and uttered, "What can I get for you today, son."
Thalia pulled a talisman from a second pouch and activated it just before she stepped out into the back alley. The familiar pop of a teleport signaled that her servant had arrived. She turned to her broad-shouldered body guard and motioned him towards the alley.
"There are two men in there. One is wearing chainmail, he accosted one of the barmaids who works here; the other is his friend who agreed to accompany him to the alley under the belief that I would be joining them."
The purple crystal warrior cracked his knuckles and stepped towards the alley, she motioned for him to wait.
"No. Restrain the friend; I'll deal with the scoundrel myself."
She plucked her staff from subspace and turned into the alley. Both men were talking and making gestures, and the subject of both only served to anger her further.
"Hello boys, you ready for me?"
They began laughing roughly and moving towards her. She smiled, and they both stopped. Her warrior was still inside, right behind her. It was her smile that stopped them. All of her Father's cold-hearted guile was carried in it, and all of her mothers fury burned in her eyes. She tapped her staff against the ground and contained the alley in silence and shadow, there would be no escape. She stepped forward and her loyal soldier stepped out, a living golem unlike any they had ever seen. Both men drew their swords, but Thalia simply stretched out a hand and issued the command. "Do it."
"By the creator's will, the threat you pose must be eliminated."
Both men dropped their swords and tried to run. Thalia threw the friend back to her Gravagan acomplice, but the other brute she planned to deal with herself. She pulled him back and struck his legs from beneath him, then rolled him onto his back.
"Didn't your daddy ever tell you not to pick up girls at bars?"
"Who are you?"
She levitated his friend's sword over his neck as she cast a spell to bind him to the street.
"I'm a very bad girl."
"Stop right where you are. No man is permitted within the dark lair of the Grand Necromancer Thalia."
"Oh lay off Thalia, we're just here to see if you want to go get some coffee or something."
"Only if you remember the secret joke and brought the candles."
"I did bring the candles but really? Is this necessary?"
Thalia lifted her chin so she could look down at them. It wasn't, even she knew it wasn't, but she wouldn't let it go unless they did it anyways.
"Fine, why did the chicken cross the road?"
"I don't know, why did the chicken cross the road?"
"Because you killed it, reanimated it, and made it cross the road."
Nobody laughed, it wasn't supposed to be funny. It was just another one of the stupid things Thalia's friends had to put up with; the way other people had to deal with nasal laughter or compulsive drumming, they had to deal with secret jokes and ritualistic evil. The only real difference was that Thalia did it on purpose, where most people can't help nasal laughter. Still, she could beat any tacsim team in school alone and blindfolded, something they knew because she'd actually insisted on proving it. Furthermore, she was well known as the most capable villain in the academy, despite having the lowest RAE (Random Acts of Evil) score of any student. Most good students had a higher RAE then she did, but even the most randomly evil student in school couldn't match her when it came to constructing and carrying out a plot. Not that all her plots were bad, her April Fools Day jokes were enthusiastically anticipated by even the staff and no one dared miss her Halloween Masquerade, both because of the impressive buffet and general good time and because of the horrible things she did to anyone who RSVP'd and didn't come, came and didn't RSVP, or was invited and neither RSVP'd nor came. If you were invited, you came and you told her ahead of time, no one had ever been able to figure out what happened to poor Willi Jenkins and even the authorities were afraid to ask. Less out of the fear of Thalia then out of the fear of her lengthy explanations.
"Good, where were you all thinking of going?"
"Kal's Kafe, Ben's got a huge crush on one of the barmaids."
"Alright, is this everyone?"
"Yeah, unless Julie decides to come, in which case Thon and Sarah won't go because she's still sore about the breakup and would just make things unpleasant. And if Sarah doesn't go then Rachel and Ulah might come because they're both not talking to her because she beat Joel in a duel this morning and made him look bad. And..."
"Julie should have known better because Thon had been cheating on Rena with her in the first place, I give it a week before he starts cheating on Sarah too; he's on the list. Sarah shouldn't have made Joel look so bad this morning, but he should have practiced; and Rachel and Ulah should suck it up, everyone knows Joel's not interested in either of them anyways. But it doesn't matter because Thon and Sarah will be there," She snapped and a cloud of smoke rushed around them, fading to reveal them at Kal's. "Because there is here, and we are there, which is now here. See how much easier that is to do then to say?"
"We aren't supposed to learn Mass Teleportation until year eight! How do you do that?"
"It's like teleporting one person, only you teleport more people. Its just like any other mass spell, you just expand the target range and do it."
"I mean, how are you capable of it?"
"Because I have more practice."
"Practice alone couldn't make you three years more advanced than the rest of us!"
Thalia nodded and walked over to the counter. There was a pretty blonde girl running back and forth hurrying to keep all of the drink orders filled. Thalia watched her spill a little bit on one of the men as she set a mug down too fast. She didn't even notice and started to turn away to keep working but the man, a brawny adventurous type by the looks of his sword and chain mail, reached over the counter and grabbed her roughly by the arm.
"You spilled my drink missie."
"I'm very sorry, I'll get you a new one."
"And you got it on my armor, do you know how much harm that beer of yours could do to my armor? If it gets rusty then someone could drive a spear right through it and kill me. Your spilled beer could kill me."
"I'm very sorry, if you let me go I can get you a new drink and we'll clear your tab."
"That's not going to pay for new armor missie. I'm going to need something a little more valuable then some free drinks if you don't want me to take this up with your manager."
"Please sir, let go."
Thalia couldn't take much more of this. Now she was a villain, she'd always been a villain, and she'd always be a villain but there were some things she just would not stand for. So while all her classmates stood by and watched the evil that was unfolding Thalia laid, incubated, and hatched a plan to extract the poor girl from her predicament.
"Excuse me sir, I believe your father keeps birds and your mother's got a fuzzy upper lip."
"What?"
"Oh, my apologies. I didn't realize you were only human. That will make this so much easier."
"What in tarnation is your problem sweet cheeks?"
"My problem is that I'm sitting over here all alone and all the handsome men are over here flirting with this bimbo." She thumbed at the blonde, who was too terrified to even register the insult. "How about you and a friend meet me out back?" She winked at him, just in case her point hadn't been clear enough already.
The man didn't hesitate, and quickly tapped one of his friends and began gesturing at her. They both started laughing and headed towards the door. Thalia leaned across the counter and quietly patted the barmaid's hand.
"Go take your fifteen, I'll have someone cover for you."
"T-thank you miss, but my boss would fire me."
"Tell him Thalia said you could, if he tries to fire you anyways I'll give you his job."
"W-what?"
"I'm the owner." Thalia pulled a fistful of knuckles from a little satchel on her belt and threw them into the air. "Masterless bones, heed my command: dispense beverages, collect money, and end fights ye bartenders damned." Five Skeletons landed, caught rags and began wiping mugs. Then with one raspy voice they leaned across the counter and uttered, "What can I get for you today, son."
Thalia pulled a talisman from a second pouch and activated it just before she stepped out into the back alley. The familiar pop of a teleport signaled that her servant had arrived. She turned to her broad-shouldered body guard and motioned him towards the alley.
"There are two men in there. One is wearing chainmail, he accosted one of the barmaids who works here; the other is his friend who agreed to accompany him to the alley under the belief that I would be joining them."
The purple crystal warrior cracked his knuckles and stepped towards the alley, she motioned for him to wait.
"No. Restrain the friend; I'll deal with the scoundrel myself."
She plucked her staff from subspace and turned into the alley. Both men were talking and making gestures, and the subject of both only served to anger her further.
"Hello boys, you ready for me?"
They began laughing roughly and moving towards her. She smiled, and they both stopped. Her warrior was still inside, right behind her. It was her smile that stopped them. All of her Father's cold-hearted guile was carried in it, and all of her mothers fury burned in her eyes. She tapped her staff against the ground and contained the alley in silence and shadow, there would be no escape. She stepped forward and her loyal soldier stepped out, a living golem unlike any they had ever seen. Both men drew their swords, but Thalia simply stretched out a hand and issued the command. "Do it."
"By the creator's will, the threat you pose must be eliminated."
Both men dropped their swords and tried to run. Thalia threw the friend back to her Gravagan acomplice, but the other brute she planned to deal with herself. She pulled him back and struck his legs from beneath him, then rolled him onto his back.
"Didn't your daddy ever tell you not to pick up girls at bars?"
"Who are you?"
She levitated his friend's sword over his neck as she cast a spell to bind him to the street.
"I'm a very bad girl."
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Short Story; Apprenticeship
Astelle Aeron had been in the adventuring business since she was fifteen. The initiation process was rough, her village burned, her parents killed, and biker ninjas everywhere. She'd done what any reasonable Nielda would do in the circumstance; sworn revenge, tracked down the best sword in town, and followed them.
Luckily, like any reasonably successful adventurer, she'd run into people who actually did know what they were doing. That was four hundred years ago. Captain Altar and the rest of the knights had adopted her as one of their own. She'd learned to fight, how to disarm most traps, and even managed to earn a few runes of her own. She approached the young man at the bar on the captain's orders. It was a test. She'd proven herself a capable adventurer in the past, and the next step for any of the knights was to show that they could teach those skills as well as they'd learned them. It expressed a great deal of faith in her abilities. Many, nay most, knights failed this test. And few took it so young. She managed to suppress her pride before she tapped the youth's shoulder.
"What's a kid like you doing in a rough place like this?"
The young man turned. He wasn't drunk, he must have just eaten something bad. He seemed determined, if somewhat uncertain of his surroundings.
"I was hoping to meet someone. Place like this, with all the shadowy figures and bad guys, I was hoping someone would say something about the Empress' death."
Astelle drew back. The Empress was dead? She could only assume it was the Daniellndish one, the Seclorans had an emperor last she'd heard. Holine had finally kicked the bucket then? The Lieutenant would certainly be glad to hear of it, Holine had said some rather nasty things about Gwen's grandfather.
"When did this happen?"
"Two days ago. They say a Lich tore through the palace wards and summoned a fire elemental and turned her to ash."
It was scary to think of anything being strong enough to tear through the palace wards. Only Stormguard and the stone circles were better defended. It had only fallen three times of the course of history; once from within by Zink, once during the shade invasion, and most recently to Arcania who crushed the defenses in person. Astelle remembered listening to the officers talking in private once, only three immortals had the magical strength to break the wards without being on the palace grounds. One of them they called 'Petra the Paladin', she was a teacher though, on Krove. The second Kaithoras had called a serial killer, some sort of impish woman who hunted immortals and killed them gruesomely with a sportsman's cheer. But the undead Daniellandish weren't technically immortal, if what they;d said was true then the murderer wouldn't have bothered with the Empress. Even if the process of elimination hadn't dealt with the other two than the last, and supposedly weakest of the three, would have been the top suspect. She'd been appalled to learn of Arcania's survival. The queen of the Frostbourne had already proven that she could enter the palace, and she was a constant target of public mockery under Holine's rule. Perhaps she'd finally snapped and sent one of her minions to kill Holine. After all, to as accomplished a villain as Arcania, even a powerful lich was practically a foot soldier. But Astelle knew her limits, Arcania may have been the prime suspect but she was far to powerful for a mere knight to challenge. Perhaps the whole order united would defeat her, but even then the chances were not good.
"That's horrible! I don't suppose anyone knows anything about what happened to the Lich?"
"It must have gotten away. I heard from my sister, a maid in the palace. She said the guards only found enough ash for one. Somewhere, the..the monster who killed the Empress is still alive." He pounded the bar and then looked up in surprise as the bartender instinctively set a beer down on the counter. Astelle caught his hand before he could reach it.
"How old are you kid?"
"Fifteen. Why?"
She picked up the beer and took a swig. After she swallowed the brine, which tasted of burnt cranberries and had the texture of slimy cabbage, she set it back down, lightly so as to avoid a refill.
"Only fifteen? And you already want to try and take on a lich? You're going to need more than an education to take down something of that caliber." He drooped as he realized she was right. She grabbed his shoulders roughly and pulled him back upright. "Which is why I'm going to help. I know a thing or two about adventuring, but anything that can get into the palace is more than I can handle alone. I'm going to need help, you up to the challenge?"
He lit up. She felt kind of bad working the kid up like that. Truth was they were probably never going to find the lich, or Arcania, or anything powerful enough to break the wards. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to meet anything that powerful, not even on friendly terms. Still, the kid had the spunk to try and she needed to prove that she could give him the skills and instill the courage and wisdom it would take to do it if she ever wanted to be more than a foot soldier herself.
She dodged a thrown chair and pulled the kid off his stool. A fight had started, which considering the clientele wasn't surprising.
"You've got at least another three weeks of school. You ought to finish, it could come in handy sometime. I'll meet you tomorrow at three, in the plaza. We'll start your training then, deal?"
He shook her hand vigorously, oblivious to the fight going on around them, she'd definitely need to work on that. "Thank you! Thank you, so much. I won't let you down, promise."
Luckily, like any reasonably successful adventurer, she'd run into people who actually did know what they were doing. That was four hundred years ago. Captain Altar and the rest of the knights had adopted her as one of their own. She'd learned to fight, how to disarm most traps, and even managed to earn a few runes of her own. She approached the young man at the bar on the captain's orders. It was a test. She'd proven herself a capable adventurer in the past, and the next step for any of the knights was to show that they could teach those skills as well as they'd learned them. It expressed a great deal of faith in her abilities. Many, nay most, knights failed this test. And few took it so young. She managed to suppress her pride before she tapped the youth's shoulder.
"What's a kid like you doing in a rough place like this?"
The young man turned. He wasn't drunk, he must have just eaten something bad. He seemed determined, if somewhat uncertain of his surroundings.
"I was hoping to meet someone. Place like this, with all the shadowy figures and bad guys, I was hoping someone would say something about the Empress' death."
Astelle drew back. The Empress was dead? She could only assume it was the Daniellndish one, the Seclorans had an emperor last she'd heard. Holine had finally kicked the bucket then? The Lieutenant would certainly be glad to hear of it, Holine had said some rather nasty things about Gwen's grandfather.
"When did this happen?"
"Two days ago. They say a Lich tore through the palace wards and summoned a fire elemental and turned her to ash."
It was scary to think of anything being strong enough to tear through the palace wards. Only Stormguard and the stone circles were better defended. It had only fallen three times of the course of history; once from within by Zink, once during the shade invasion, and most recently to Arcania who crushed the defenses in person. Astelle remembered listening to the officers talking in private once, only three immortals had the magical strength to break the wards without being on the palace grounds. One of them they called 'Petra the Paladin', she was a teacher though, on Krove. The second Kaithoras had called a serial killer, some sort of impish woman who hunted immortals and killed them gruesomely with a sportsman's cheer. But the undead Daniellandish weren't technically immortal, if what they;d said was true then the murderer wouldn't have bothered with the Empress. Even if the process of elimination hadn't dealt with the other two than the last, and supposedly weakest of the three, would have been the top suspect. She'd been appalled to learn of Arcania's survival. The queen of the Frostbourne had already proven that she could enter the palace, and she was a constant target of public mockery under Holine's rule. Perhaps she'd finally snapped and sent one of her minions to kill Holine. After all, to as accomplished a villain as Arcania, even a powerful lich was practically a foot soldier. But Astelle knew her limits, Arcania may have been the prime suspect but she was far to powerful for a mere knight to challenge. Perhaps the whole order united would defeat her, but even then the chances were not good.
"That's horrible! I don't suppose anyone knows anything about what happened to the Lich?"
"It must have gotten away. I heard from my sister, a maid in the palace. She said the guards only found enough ash for one. Somewhere, the..the monster who killed the Empress is still alive." He pounded the bar and then looked up in surprise as the bartender instinctively set a beer down on the counter. Astelle caught his hand before he could reach it.
"How old are you kid?"
"Fifteen. Why?"
She picked up the beer and took a swig. After she swallowed the brine, which tasted of burnt cranberries and had the texture of slimy cabbage, she set it back down, lightly so as to avoid a refill.
"Only fifteen? And you already want to try and take on a lich? You're going to need more than an education to take down something of that caliber." He drooped as he realized she was right. She grabbed his shoulders roughly and pulled him back upright. "Which is why I'm going to help. I know a thing or two about adventuring, but anything that can get into the palace is more than I can handle alone. I'm going to need help, you up to the challenge?"
He lit up. She felt kind of bad working the kid up like that. Truth was they were probably never going to find the lich, or Arcania, or anything powerful enough to break the wards. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to meet anything that powerful, not even on friendly terms. Still, the kid had the spunk to try and she needed to prove that she could give him the skills and instill the courage and wisdom it would take to do it if she ever wanted to be more than a foot soldier herself.
She dodged a thrown chair and pulled the kid off his stool. A fight had started, which considering the clientele wasn't surprising.
"You've got at least another three weeks of school. You ought to finish, it could come in handy sometime. I'll meet you tomorrow at three, in the plaza. We'll start your training then, deal?"
He shook her hand vigorously, oblivious to the fight going on around them, she'd definitely need to work on that. "Thank you! Thank you, so much. I won't let you down, promise."
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Short Story; Black-Eye's Tavern
A good day's battle, it was all any of the Knights of the Runic Circle could hope for. After all, when in the business of hunting down shades, warlocks, and the more vile sorts of necromancer a fight was pretty much guaranteed. Of course, with more than a few hundred years under even the most junior member's belt it was hard to actually get a decent fight.
Which made the conversations all the more interesting.
"YoHo! I be Snarkbeard the fierce. Ye be afeared of me army of dancing skeleton pirates."
"Haha! I remember that guy. it was like a bad theme park."
"More like a bad movie to me, Altar."
"Why do you always do that Lt?"
"Do what?"
"Disagree with the captain."
"Because he's always wrong."
"No he's not. Man's never lead us wrong before in his life."
Both Kaithoras and Gwen stopped as they heard the thud of a heavy steel boot against the tavern's wooden floors.
"Enough." The plate clad captain of the Knights turned to his third and continued, "Thank you for the vote of confidence Kai, but Gwen's right, I am often wrong."
"Don't sell yourself..." The captain held up his hand to silence his third officer. Kaithoras was a good soldier, and a hard worker, but he tended to be a bit of a fanboy.
"Go easy on him; after all, you need all the help you can get captain."
"Now Gwen, we both know full well how much better the team has operated since I was put in command."
"Of course it works better, there was no team before you were in command."
"And what did you do before you joined?"
"Ate from a silver spoon on a seat made entirely from the fifth vertebrae of smarmy peasants like you."
" Well I trust that all that hard work made their bones soft and comfortable for you milady."
To an outsider it would have appeared harsh, but Altar was renowned for being able to keep smiling under her constant barrage. And while she'd have never admitted it, everyone knew that on the rare occasions she managed to actually bother him she would apologize and make amends on the spot.
"You would think so, wouldn't you. But I've always prefered smarmy peasant because they are so pleasantly firm. If I wanted soft I'd go find a dull nobleman."
Kaithoras tilted his head pointedly at the rest of the group. It was a well known gesture to those gathered. Most of the younger knights believed the gesture meant that the captain and the Lieutenant were about to have a row. But Kaithoras and the other, more experienced knights had fought and travelled alongside the two long enough to know how very wrong that belief was.
"Well, I don't know about that."
"Don't know about what?" She leaned forward as he passed her a mug. It wasn't beer, neither of them actually drank. But half of the appeal of being in a dark, smoky tavern was looking like you could kill with a prolonged stare while drinking out of a mug that had likely only been cleaned using the spit and elbow grease of a large bald man who stayed behind a counter that probably hid a very powerful weapon. Gosh darnit, if they were going to be running around killing nefarious villains, they were going to celebrate by hanging out in places that only existed to be hung out in by people who worked in the business of deposing villains. These sorts of places were surprisingly common actually, the sort of people who got payed to help a villain become a ruler figured out that they could hang out in these places and become good enough friends with local heroes that they wouldn't get killed later. And since the later group of people tended to have money, bad taverns had become the staple of many a local economy.
"The nobles I know may be soft, but they are never dull."
"That's because a peasant like you has no reason to consort with the rich and powerful."
"Lack of a reason has never stopped me from consorting with nobles before." He sat down and leaned in. The smell of artificial smoke, dryed blood, and fresh vomit gave the place the exact sort of air it was aiming for. The blood was their enemy's, and the vomit was from some poor kid who was probably about to set off on a quest to depose some villain. Adan decided to have pity on the kid and gave Astelle the signal to go take care of him.
"Did you just order Astelle to go take care of that distraught yokel?"
He smiled. Never missed a beat, his Gwestwind. She wasn't annoyed, she was never as annoyed as she seemed. And while a lot of people thought her insufferable and antagonistic, he knew she didn't really mean it.
"She's been dying for a a solo run for a while now. He's no professional hero, she's hardly ready to tackle the big dogs; I figured it would be a good start for her."
"You gave an order while I was talking to you."
"My apologies, that was inconsiderate milady."
"Don't 'milady' me. You just ignored me."
He grinned and leaned over the table, his armor clanking as it shifted. "Not that I did, but what would you do if I had, Gwestwind?"
She leaned across the table. He could feel her warm breath through his armor.
"You know how I feel about you using that name."
She leaned in a little closer. The inches between them diminished slowly as they leaned closer.
"Your name is Gwestwind?" A large muscle-bound mercenary had stepped up beside them. Altar recognized him as one of their most recent victory's guards. He couldn't help but feel bad for the guy; he didn't mean it badly and he had no way of knowing what was going to happen next.
The man was unconscious well before he hit the ground. The entire tavern fell silent and looked over.
"I don't like it when people call me that!"
"Lieutenant, that was out of line."
She relaxed her muscles instantly and sat back down. "Sorry sir."
"We need to work on your self control sweetheart."
"Yes sir."
"Now where were we?"
She stood up and brushed the bartender's counter. The dust turned to fat gold coins as she passed it. It would cover damages, and in all fairness people getting hit across the room was good for a place like this' reputation. She turned aside and wove past a few curious onlookers before stopping in front of the stairs. Altar rose and went to follow her. Punching people randomly was not acceptable, but he should have known better than to use her name in public anyways. It was, more or less, his fault.
Although judging by the way she swung her fiery hair as she turned up the stairs, she was going to want more than an apology.
He spotted Kaithoras coming back over before he managed to reach the stairs.
"Lieutenant?"
"You're whipped captain."
"Kai, shut up and get to work."
The wiry elf grabbed the nearest patron and lifted him over his head. He winked at the captain before glowering at the hapless drunk.
"What's that you said about my mother you scuthering bundle of scuzz-ridden fleas?"
Altar made it to the stairs before the fight began to reach full swing, ducking as he took hold of the hand rail to avoid a thrown bottle. He tapped the creaky wooden door before entering. A weaving of the silence of the harvest breeze and the solitude of the prarrie stone would protect them from anyone who wished to intrude, although he knew Gwestwind's magic would protect them far better than anything he could manage. proper magic was just more flexible than runes.
"Took you long enough. No more interruptions?"
She was sitting on the bed, by the smell of burnt ozone she'd already managed to purge it of anything small and alive. She was quick, besides crisping every bedbug and maggot in the room she'd managed to fluff the pillows and hang up her bow and quiver on the hat rack.
"I told Kai to handle things."
"I had the feeling, things were starting to sound pretty rough before you sealed the door."
He smirked and unstrapped his sword, hanging it up next to her bow. She rolled her eyes and stood up.
"Yeah, you know how I like it. Shall we get to it then? You know how I like being kept waiting."
He reached over and took her hand. "I also know how twisted you are about admitting when you like something."
"Babe, I hate you."
"Yeah, and you hate it when I say your name?"
He stepped in closer and kissed her. She pulled him deeper in and clung to him, using the gaps in his armor as handholds. She pulled away and took a breath before hoarsely admitting "I Hate it when you say my name."
Which made the conversations all the more interesting.
"YoHo! I be Snarkbeard the fierce. Ye be afeared of me army of dancing skeleton pirates."
"Haha! I remember that guy. it was like a bad theme park."
"More like a bad movie to me, Altar."
"Why do you always do that Lt?"
"Do what?"
"Disagree with the captain."
"Because he's always wrong."
"No he's not. Man's never lead us wrong before in his life."
Both Kaithoras and Gwen stopped as they heard the thud of a heavy steel boot against the tavern's wooden floors.
"Enough." The plate clad captain of the Knights turned to his third and continued, "Thank you for the vote of confidence Kai, but Gwen's right, I am often wrong."
"Don't sell yourself..." The captain held up his hand to silence his third officer. Kaithoras was a good soldier, and a hard worker, but he tended to be a bit of a fanboy.
"Go easy on him; after all, you need all the help you can get captain."
"Now Gwen, we both know full well how much better the team has operated since I was put in command."
"Of course it works better, there was no team before you were in command."
"And what did you do before you joined?"
"Ate from a silver spoon on a seat made entirely from the fifth vertebrae of smarmy peasants like you."
" Well I trust that all that hard work made their bones soft and comfortable for you milady."
To an outsider it would have appeared harsh, but Altar was renowned for being able to keep smiling under her constant barrage. And while she'd have never admitted it, everyone knew that on the rare occasions she managed to actually bother him she would apologize and make amends on the spot.
"You would think so, wouldn't you. But I've always prefered smarmy peasant because they are so pleasantly firm. If I wanted soft I'd go find a dull nobleman."
Kaithoras tilted his head pointedly at the rest of the group. It was a well known gesture to those gathered. Most of the younger knights believed the gesture meant that the captain and the Lieutenant were about to have a row. But Kaithoras and the other, more experienced knights had fought and travelled alongside the two long enough to know how very wrong that belief was.
"Well, I don't know about that."
"Don't know about what?" She leaned forward as he passed her a mug. It wasn't beer, neither of them actually drank. But half of the appeal of being in a dark, smoky tavern was looking like you could kill with a prolonged stare while drinking out of a mug that had likely only been cleaned using the spit and elbow grease of a large bald man who stayed behind a counter that probably hid a very powerful weapon. Gosh darnit, if they were going to be running around killing nefarious villains, they were going to celebrate by hanging out in places that only existed to be hung out in by people who worked in the business of deposing villains. These sorts of places were surprisingly common actually, the sort of people who got payed to help a villain become a ruler figured out that they could hang out in these places and become good enough friends with local heroes that they wouldn't get killed later. And since the later group of people tended to have money, bad taverns had become the staple of many a local economy.
"The nobles I know may be soft, but they are never dull."
"That's because a peasant like you has no reason to consort with the rich and powerful."
"Lack of a reason has never stopped me from consorting with nobles before." He sat down and leaned in. The smell of artificial smoke, dryed blood, and fresh vomit gave the place the exact sort of air it was aiming for. The blood was their enemy's, and the vomit was from some poor kid who was probably about to set off on a quest to depose some villain. Adan decided to have pity on the kid and gave Astelle the signal to go take care of him.
"Did you just order Astelle to go take care of that distraught yokel?"
He smiled. Never missed a beat, his Gwestwind. She wasn't annoyed, she was never as annoyed as she seemed. And while a lot of people thought her insufferable and antagonistic, he knew she didn't really mean it.
"She's been dying for a a solo run for a while now. He's no professional hero, she's hardly ready to tackle the big dogs; I figured it would be a good start for her."
"You gave an order while I was talking to you."
"My apologies, that was inconsiderate milady."
"Don't 'milady' me. You just ignored me."
He grinned and leaned over the table, his armor clanking as it shifted. "Not that I did, but what would you do if I had, Gwestwind?"
She leaned across the table. He could feel her warm breath through his armor.
"You know how I feel about you using that name."
She leaned in a little closer. The inches between them diminished slowly as they leaned closer.
"Your name is Gwestwind?" A large muscle-bound mercenary had stepped up beside them. Altar recognized him as one of their most recent victory's guards. He couldn't help but feel bad for the guy; he didn't mean it badly and he had no way of knowing what was going to happen next.
The man was unconscious well before he hit the ground. The entire tavern fell silent and looked over.
"I don't like it when people call me that!"
"Lieutenant, that was out of line."
She relaxed her muscles instantly and sat back down. "Sorry sir."
"We need to work on your self control sweetheart."
"Yes sir."
"Now where were we?"
She stood up and brushed the bartender's counter. The dust turned to fat gold coins as she passed it. It would cover damages, and in all fairness people getting hit across the room was good for a place like this' reputation. She turned aside and wove past a few curious onlookers before stopping in front of the stairs. Altar rose and went to follow her. Punching people randomly was not acceptable, but he should have known better than to use her name in public anyways. It was, more or less, his fault.
Although judging by the way she swung her fiery hair as she turned up the stairs, she was going to want more than an apology.
He spotted Kaithoras coming back over before he managed to reach the stairs.
"Lieutenant?"
"You're whipped captain."
"Kai, shut up and get to work."
The wiry elf grabbed the nearest patron and lifted him over his head. He winked at the captain before glowering at the hapless drunk.
"What's that you said about my mother you scuthering bundle of scuzz-ridden fleas?"
Altar made it to the stairs before the fight began to reach full swing, ducking as he took hold of the hand rail to avoid a thrown bottle. He tapped the creaky wooden door before entering. A weaving of the silence of the harvest breeze and the solitude of the prarrie stone would protect them from anyone who wished to intrude, although he knew Gwestwind's magic would protect them far better than anything he could manage. proper magic was just more flexible than runes.
"Took you long enough. No more interruptions?"
She was sitting on the bed, by the smell of burnt ozone she'd already managed to purge it of anything small and alive. She was quick, besides crisping every bedbug and maggot in the room she'd managed to fluff the pillows and hang up her bow and quiver on the hat rack.
"I told Kai to handle things."
"I had the feeling, things were starting to sound pretty rough before you sealed the door."
He smirked and unstrapped his sword, hanging it up next to her bow. She rolled her eyes and stood up.
"Yeah, you know how I like it. Shall we get to it then? You know how I like being kept waiting."
He reached over and took her hand. "I also know how twisted you are about admitting when you like something."
"Babe, I hate you."
"Yeah, and you hate it when I say your name?"
He stepped in closer and kissed her. She pulled him deeper in and clung to him, using the gaps in his armor as handholds. She pulled away and took a breath before hoarsely admitting "I Hate it when you say my name."
Monday, January 31, 2011
Short Story; Cyssie and Igor
Cystronella Von Gravaga could remember the very first thing she'd ever built on her own. It was a harmonic resonator that could be tuned to the exact frequency of a given piece of fabric. She'd been seventeen, and bothered by how long it took to find the match to a pair of socks. So she had taken the blueprints to a standard harmonic resonator, normally used to give particular types of people headaches or to demolish buildings, and modified it to effect fabric. She'd spent hours fine tuning it, but eventually she managed to get it to a point where she could target any given sock and it's match would begin resonating. Sure it made both socks explode with a force of 7BPI (Beck's Per Thread, the standard measure for explosive strength, equal to a standard hand grenade, per square inch of matierial), but the important thing was that she always new where the sock's match was.
And now, holding her harmonic resonator, and nursing the bump on her head it had caused when she'd accidentally knocked it off the dresser, she remembered how proud her mother had been that she'd invented something so clever.
"Cyssie! Why is there a hole in the wall?"
"I swear mom, I didn't do it."
Thalia looked at her daughter. Her eyes were full of fire but her gaze was as chilling as an east wind. The Dark Lady of Gravaga was not one to be trifled with, not by any count, and Cyssie was petrified at the thought of the million terrible things her mother would do to her if she found out what had happened.
"Don't lie to me Cyssie. It's your room, only you've been in it, and the blast radius and fragmentation patterns indicate without a doubt a detonation with a magnitude of at least thirty-five becks originiating within your room. It's magic sealed and you don't have any antagonists, so only you could have possibly done it. Now, are you going to keep lying to me, or are you going to explain what happened?"
Cyssie couldn't stand against forensic evidence, her mother had her against the wall. She started crying and confessed what she'd done. "I couldn't find my socks so I made a harmonic resonator and I aimed it at the sock I did have so I could find the sock I didn't have and then the sock I didn't have resonated and I think I must have let it resonate to long because it blew up!" She cried breathlessly before completely breaking down in tears.
Thalia softened instantly as she bent down to hug her youngest daughter.
'Why didn't you just say so?" She brushed Cyssie's pale golden hair out of her face and kissed her on the forehead. "Sweetheart, I'm not angry about the wall; I can fix that with a thought. I was just mad because you were lying to me. I think its great that you wanted to come up with a better way of finding your socks, and for anyone your age to construct a harmonic resonator is very impressive. But next time, just tell me; ok?"
And now, crying once again, she wished her mother were there to tell her it was going to be ok. But she wasn't. What was left of her staff was sitting in the dining room. Her bones were in a mausoleum fifty miles away in the heart of Halston. And all that was left of Thalia were her beloved children, her loyal Gravagan creations, and the system she'd worked tirelessly to set in place to keep order between the immortals. And Cyssie felt alone.
"Hey."
Cyssie couldn't bring herself to reply. She just sat against the dresser, clutching her harmonic resonator, and crying quietly. Igor came over and sat next to her. The two sat silently for several minutes before she finally calmed down enough to talk.
"You know, Mum always believed in me. Even when I was young, and I was just starting off, she always made sure I had whatever parts I needed. She gave me my first lab, taught me how to read, explained how things worked when I asked. She never liked machines, but she would usually make the effort because it was me."
"She was a good mother, and a good person." Igor agreed.
"And when they brought back her body all I could think of was how I could fix her, how I could have built something that could have saved her, how I could build something to bring her back."
"I remember."
"And now, SHE brings back her staff and expects it to be alright?"
"Cyssie."
"SHE killed her Igor! SHE killed Mum."
"Cyssie."
"SHE killed Mum and she thinks she can just apologize? Like she'd broken a wrech or a car?"
"Cyssie, listen to me."
Cyssie stopped. She was breathing heavily and she could feel the fire rising in her eyes; the cold spreading through her gaze.
"Cyssie, your mother died trying to save her. Whether she killed Thalia or not, if you can't forgive her than you're throwing away everything your mother died for."
"But she killed her."
"And nothing is going to bring her back. Not magic, not science, certainly not art, and unquestionably not hating your sister."
"But..."
"Yes, you have a very nice one, but that's not going to bring her back either. Now get up, remember what your mother always used to say when things were looking down?"
Cyssie cheered up. Yes, she did remember her Mother's philosophy on how to deal with life's problems.
"Pray for forgiveness, dust off your shoes, and love."
"Really?" Igor smirked. "That's not how she said it."
"Oh?" A smile spreading as Igor stood up. "Then how did she say it?"
He reached down and helped her up. Cyssie knew what her Mother had always said. And she'd been right. She muttered a prayer, kicked off her shoes, and kissed him.
And now, holding her harmonic resonator, and nursing the bump on her head it had caused when she'd accidentally knocked it off the dresser, she remembered how proud her mother had been that she'd invented something so clever.
"Cyssie! Why is there a hole in the wall?"
"I swear mom, I didn't do it."
Thalia looked at her daughter. Her eyes were full of fire but her gaze was as chilling as an east wind. The Dark Lady of Gravaga was not one to be trifled with, not by any count, and Cyssie was petrified at the thought of the million terrible things her mother would do to her if she found out what had happened.
"Don't lie to me Cyssie. It's your room, only you've been in it, and the blast radius and fragmentation patterns indicate without a doubt a detonation with a magnitude of at least thirty-five becks originiating within your room. It's magic sealed and you don't have any antagonists, so only you could have possibly done it. Now, are you going to keep lying to me, or are you going to explain what happened?"
Cyssie couldn't stand against forensic evidence, her mother had her against the wall. She started crying and confessed what she'd done. "I couldn't find my socks so I made a harmonic resonator and I aimed it at the sock I did have so I could find the sock I didn't have and then the sock I didn't have resonated and I think I must have let it resonate to long because it blew up!" She cried breathlessly before completely breaking down in tears.
Thalia softened instantly as she bent down to hug her youngest daughter.
'Why didn't you just say so?" She brushed Cyssie's pale golden hair out of her face and kissed her on the forehead. "Sweetheart, I'm not angry about the wall; I can fix that with a thought. I was just mad because you were lying to me. I think its great that you wanted to come up with a better way of finding your socks, and for anyone your age to construct a harmonic resonator is very impressive. But next time, just tell me; ok?"
And now, crying once again, she wished her mother were there to tell her it was going to be ok. But she wasn't. What was left of her staff was sitting in the dining room. Her bones were in a mausoleum fifty miles away in the heart of Halston. And all that was left of Thalia were her beloved children, her loyal Gravagan creations, and the system she'd worked tirelessly to set in place to keep order between the immortals. And Cyssie felt alone.
"Hey."
Cyssie couldn't bring herself to reply. She just sat against the dresser, clutching her harmonic resonator, and crying quietly. Igor came over and sat next to her. The two sat silently for several minutes before she finally calmed down enough to talk.
"You know, Mum always believed in me. Even when I was young, and I was just starting off, she always made sure I had whatever parts I needed. She gave me my first lab, taught me how to read, explained how things worked when I asked. She never liked machines, but she would usually make the effort because it was me."
"She was a good mother, and a good person." Igor agreed.
"And when they brought back her body all I could think of was how I could fix her, how I could have built something that could have saved her, how I could build something to bring her back."
"I remember."
"And now, SHE brings back her staff and expects it to be alright?"
"Cyssie."
"SHE killed her Igor! SHE killed Mum."
"Cyssie."
"SHE killed Mum and she thinks she can just apologize? Like she'd broken a wrech or a car?"
"Cyssie, listen to me."
Cyssie stopped. She was breathing heavily and she could feel the fire rising in her eyes; the cold spreading through her gaze.
"Cyssie, your mother died trying to save her. Whether she killed Thalia or not, if you can't forgive her than you're throwing away everything your mother died for."
"But she killed her."
"And nothing is going to bring her back. Not magic, not science, certainly not art, and unquestionably not hating your sister."
"But..."
"Yes, you have a very nice one, but that's not going to bring her back either. Now get up, remember what your mother always used to say when things were looking down?"
Cyssie cheered up. Yes, she did remember her Mother's philosophy on how to deal with life's problems.
"Pray for forgiveness, dust off your shoes, and love."
"Really?" Igor smirked. "That's not how she said it."
"Oh?" A smile spreading as Igor stood up. "Then how did she say it?"
He reached down and helped her up. Cyssie knew what her Mother had always said. And she'd been right. She muttered a prayer, kicked off her shoes, and kissed him.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Short Story; The Great Yaputcha, part two
Credits; Rea,
"Oh for the love of..." Yuri knew to tune out his cousin Masne whenever anything bad happened. Not to say she was always the nicest thing to listen to the rest of the time, just that she swore with a complexity and fury that would confuse most sailors and make scholars cry and he had no intent to waste his time trying to figure out what she was actually saying.
Setting that issue aside they had the more important issue of what to do now that Professor Zinksfeld had left them here, alone.
"Whelp, I'm heading up to the caves. No point letting a great big ol' beastie go to waste just sitting here in a gift shop, hold these two and I'll take a meat stick, a pop, and one of those amulets over their that keeps your legs from falling asleep when you cross them." The new girl slid two magazines across the counter with a small pile of gold coins. "Keep the change, I don't have pockets."
"Is this...Gold?"
"Yep, totally worthless to me. Magically conductive and all, great for spell channeling, but no real use beyond that. Looks pretty enough I suppose, but I prefer silver, much more potent and only marginally less conductive."
"This is worth," the man paused as he calculated, blinked twice as the math confused him, and then paused again as he decided on a sufficently realistic seeming number, "at least four hundred bucks a coin."
"Really? Make it two meat sticks and a large pop then."
"Of course! Whatever you want."
Her entire person seemed to darken as she leaned over the counter. "Your firstborn son's afterbirth, in a stasis tube at the barren crossroad east of town. On the 19th of Febuary, five years from now; the moon will be full and the street light over the crossroad will be out, have it there by midnight or pay the price."
It was an empty threat. Yuri had recieved similar ones before, 'the price' was usually just an angry letter with a curse of hives on it. She stuck the landing though, didn't forget her groceries as she exited, cakling madly. He looked over at Vestine, who had been staying quiet the whole trip. She shrugged and motioned for them to follow.
They left the town, walking up a side path on the mountain side towards the caves. There was an open field in front of the cliff face.
"So, these are the caves of Argetiam, home of the rare Yaputcha, and of the Arget gemstones."
"I hear it's beautiful. Sparkling in every color and then reflected in the pools, stalagmites that hang from the ceiling deep into caverns within the heart of the mountain, and there are even said to be mysterious and magical beings that hide in its depths. Shall we explore?"
"We should wait for Masne and the others."
The ground rumbled and they watched the new girl run out of the farthest mouth of the cave, diving aside as a Yaputcha charged into the field behind her. They finally got their first glance at the creature. It was dark blue, but vividly so. Every scale was a spike, and even at distance he could make out the serrated edges. It's teeth were massive and numerous, tipped in red and yellowed at the base. It lumbered on legs thick as boulders and shorter than door frames.
They watched her darting back and forth, the beast growing frustrated as she avoided it's reach. She peppered it with blasts of energy and slashed futily at its armored hide. He stepped towards it to offer help, forming a plan as he moved. He stopped sharply as he heard Vestine trip behind him.
"What happened?"
"My legs fell asleep."
"Why didn't it do anything to me?"
"You're undead, it may not even know you exist. I could be wrong, but I think the Yaputcha are grade two psionics with a telepathic primary sense perception. I think I can shut it down, but you'll still have to kill it."
"What if I shut it down and you kill it?"
"Poison wouldn't effect you, and you'll recover from any injuries a lot faster."
"Poison wouldn't effect you either."
Vestine grabbed her staff and transfigured it into a longsword. "Sweetheart, just go kill it."
"Yes ma'am."
The beast roared as Vestine crushed its limited, bestial mind. He could only imagine what it must feel like, having every sense stripped from you by an adversary you were no longer able to find. But he still had to kill it or risk its killing someone else.
"I'd really prefer you stayed out of the way, this is going to get messy."
"Like I'm just going to let you try to kill it on your own."
"No seriously, stay where you are while I try this."
She clutched the ground and pulled a rifle from the rock. She knelt and leaned back, taking aim at the beast. She aimed for one knee, carefully lining up shots not simply to wound it but to loosen scales. With each shot she left it more open to injury, and with the fifth she crippled it. The beast roared and tripped as it charged, without its senses it hadn't even realized that it was wounded.
"That worked nicely, but lets make sure." She spun the rifle in her hands, converting it into a war hammer as she did. She charged it, ducking left as it bit wildly about. Whe brought the hammer down on its other knee, shattering scale and bone alike. Without missing a beat she turned the weapon into a hooked rope and threw it into the throat of the Yaputcha, catching it on the beast's teeth. She walked up the rope, holding it taut and winding it as she went up. How she was doing it he couldn't tell, but somehow she managed to climb a swaying vertical rope to a living creature's mouth. She reached the top, unhooked the rope and backfliped off of it. As she did, she transformed the rope into a bomb and tossed it down the Yaputcha's throat. She rolled and shielded herself as she landed, preventing any of the beast's ostensibly poisoned scales or massive teeth from striking her.
"Well, that wasn't so hard. Way easier than killing a de..va, I hate those guys. What with the spinning and the wind, impossible to get to." She pulled the second meat stick out of her vest and took a bite.
"I was just going to run up and stab it in the head. You made that look hard kid."
"Why make it easy? Going for an easy kill is a waste of an oppurtunity to practice."
"I suppose that's one way to think of it. But why not just throw the bomb in to start with, its mouth was open half the time."
"Too easy, I like to put a little more work into a kill."
He shook his head. And went to join Vestine in exploring the caves.
"So then, what did you learn?"
"Never make light of the silliness of myths or simplicity of defensive techniques. Even making your leg fall asleep can be effective at stalling an enemy."
"Good, good, but what did you particularly learn?"
"The new girl is really dangerous and slightly crazy."
"Good, most immortals never learn that until its too late. The new girl, as you call her, calls herself 'Rea' or 'Reaper Girl'. Even I don't know her real name, or how old she really is. I know she lived on Anatolia for a while, and she's mentioned fighting there. She was a witch, but her liscense is expired and the coven has no records older than four hundred years. No mention is made of Rea, or any other girl fitting her description. I know she's Nielda, and I know she's stronger than I am."
"Stronger than you? But you've punched dragons!"
"She's a mage hunter. Murderer, assassin, killer, she's probably the oldest immortal and the only way I know what I do about her is from accounts of the deaths she's inflicted. She can even kill immortals, and seems to do so almost exclusively. I punch dragons, but she knees demons in the crotch and plucks their eyes out with her thoughts."
"I saw her climb up a rope to the Yaputcha's mouth."
"I reccomend learning how to do that some day, reverse rapelling is actually quite useful. It's not nearly as tough as it looks. Seems to be kind of her MO actually, she makes her kills more complicated than they should be, just so she can practice the techniques needed to kill things that really are hard to kill."
"I'll keep my eyes out then."
"As will I., now run along Yuri. And tell your Father I said hi."
"Oh for the love of..." Yuri knew to tune out his cousin Masne whenever anything bad happened. Not to say she was always the nicest thing to listen to the rest of the time, just that she swore with a complexity and fury that would confuse most sailors and make scholars cry and he had no intent to waste his time trying to figure out what she was actually saying.
Setting that issue aside they had the more important issue of what to do now that Professor Zinksfeld had left them here, alone.
"Whelp, I'm heading up to the caves. No point letting a great big ol' beastie go to waste just sitting here in a gift shop, hold these two and I'll take a meat stick, a pop, and one of those amulets over their that keeps your legs from falling asleep when you cross them." The new girl slid two magazines across the counter with a small pile of gold coins. "Keep the change, I don't have pockets."
"Is this...Gold?"
"Yep, totally worthless to me. Magically conductive and all, great for spell channeling, but no real use beyond that. Looks pretty enough I suppose, but I prefer silver, much more potent and only marginally less conductive."
"This is worth," the man paused as he calculated, blinked twice as the math confused him, and then paused again as he decided on a sufficently realistic seeming number, "at least four hundred bucks a coin."
"Really? Make it two meat sticks and a large pop then."
"Of course! Whatever you want."
Her entire person seemed to darken as she leaned over the counter. "Your firstborn son's afterbirth, in a stasis tube at the barren crossroad east of town. On the 19th of Febuary, five years from now; the moon will be full and the street light over the crossroad will be out, have it there by midnight or pay the price."
It was an empty threat. Yuri had recieved similar ones before, 'the price' was usually just an angry letter with a curse of hives on it. She stuck the landing though, didn't forget her groceries as she exited, cakling madly. He looked over at Vestine, who had been staying quiet the whole trip. She shrugged and motioned for them to follow.
They left the town, walking up a side path on the mountain side towards the caves. There was an open field in front of the cliff face.
"So, these are the caves of Argetiam, home of the rare Yaputcha, and of the Arget gemstones."
"I hear it's beautiful. Sparkling in every color and then reflected in the pools, stalagmites that hang from the ceiling deep into caverns within the heart of the mountain, and there are even said to be mysterious and magical beings that hide in its depths. Shall we explore?"
"We should wait for Masne and the others."
The ground rumbled and they watched the new girl run out of the farthest mouth of the cave, diving aside as a Yaputcha charged into the field behind her. They finally got their first glance at the creature. It was dark blue, but vividly so. Every scale was a spike, and even at distance he could make out the serrated edges. It's teeth were massive and numerous, tipped in red and yellowed at the base. It lumbered on legs thick as boulders and shorter than door frames.
They watched her darting back and forth, the beast growing frustrated as she avoided it's reach. She peppered it with blasts of energy and slashed futily at its armored hide. He stepped towards it to offer help, forming a plan as he moved. He stopped sharply as he heard Vestine trip behind him.
"What happened?"
"My legs fell asleep."
"Why didn't it do anything to me?"
"You're undead, it may not even know you exist. I could be wrong, but I think the Yaputcha are grade two psionics with a telepathic primary sense perception. I think I can shut it down, but you'll still have to kill it."
"What if I shut it down and you kill it?"
"Poison wouldn't effect you, and you'll recover from any injuries a lot faster."
"Poison wouldn't effect you either."
Vestine grabbed her staff and transfigured it into a longsword. "Sweetheart, just go kill it."
"Yes ma'am."
The beast roared as Vestine crushed its limited, bestial mind. He could only imagine what it must feel like, having every sense stripped from you by an adversary you were no longer able to find. But he still had to kill it or risk its killing someone else.
"I'd really prefer you stayed out of the way, this is going to get messy."
"Like I'm just going to let you try to kill it on your own."
"No seriously, stay where you are while I try this."
She clutched the ground and pulled a rifle from the rock. She knelt and leaned back, taking aim at the beast. She aimed for one knee, carefully lining up shots not simply to wound it but to loosen scales. With each shot she left it more open to injury, and with the fifth she crippled it. The beast roared and tripped as it charged, without its senses it hadn't even realized that it was wounded.
"That worked nicely, but lets make sure." She spun the rifle in her hands, converting it into a war hammer as she did. She charged it, ducking left as it bit wildly about. Whe brought the hammer down on its other knee, shattering scale and bone alike. Without missing a beat she turned the weapon into a hooked rope and threw it into the throat of the Yaputcha, catching it on the beast's teeth. She walked up the rope, holding it taut and winding it as she went up. How she was doing it he couldn't tell, but somehow she managed to climb a swaying vertical rope to a living creature's mouth. She reached the top, unhooked the rope and backfliped off of it. As she did, she transformed the rope into a bomb and tossed it down the Yaputcha's throat. She rolled and shielded herself as she landed, preventing any of the beast's ostensibly poisoned scales or massive teeth from striking her.
"Well, that wasn't so hard. Way easier than killing a de..va, I hate those guys. What with the spinning and the wind, impossible to get to." She pulled the second meat stick out of her vest and took a bite.
"I was just going to run up and stab it in the head. You made that look hard kid."
"Why make it easy? Going for an easy kill is a waste of an oppurtunity to practice."
"I suppose that's one way to think of it. But why not just throw the bomb in to start with, its mouth was open half the time."
"Too easy, I like to put a little more work into a kill."
He shook his head. And went to join Vestine in exploring the caves.
"So then, what did you learn?"
"Never make light of the silliness of myths or simplicity of defensive techniques. Even making your leg fall asleep can be effective at stalling an enemy."
"Good, good, but what did you particularly learn?"
"The new girl is really dangerous and slightly crazy."
"Good, most immortals never learn that until its too late. The new girl, as you call her, calls herself 'Rea' or 'Reaper Girl'. Even I don't know her real name, or how old she really is. I know she lived on Anatolia for a while, and she's mentioned fighting there. She was a witch, but her liscense is expired and the coven has no records older than four hundred years. No mention is made of Rea, or any other girl fitting her description. I know she's Nielda, and I know she's stronger than I am."
"Stronger than you? But you've punched dragons!"
"She's a mage hunter. Murderer, assassin, killer, she's probably the oldest immortal and the only way I know what I do about her is from accounts of the deaths she's inflicted. She can even kill immortals, and seems to do so almost exclusively. I punch dragons, but she knees demons in the crotch and plucks their eyes out with her thoughts."
"I saw her climb up a rope to the Yaputcha's mouth."
"I reccomend learning how to do that some day, reverse rapelling is actually quite useful. It's not nearly as tough as it looks. Seems to be kind of her MO actually, she makes her kills more complicated than they should be, just so she can practice the techniques needed to kill things that really are hard to kill."
"I'll keep my eyes out then."
"As will I., now run along Yuri. And tell your Father I said hi."
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Short Story: The Great Yaputcha, part one
Credits; Rea,
"They say there is a great beast who lurks in the caves."
"It has the ability to start fires with its mind, and can strike with swiftness like the raven."
"I hear it has poison scales and teeth like a kris."
"I've heard it eats dragons, and then picks it's teeth with basilisk teeth."
"And you've all heard right, which is why I am going to take you to meet with the elder of the tribe that dwells nearest to the caves of Argetiam. He will tell you the way in which his ancestor slew one of the beasts many centuries ago."
Yuri knew that nothing was ever as it seemed with Professor Zinksfeld. Especially not when she had full reign, an infinite budget, and a large number of willing volunteers. Not that there was any real danger, word had it she'd released a demon that had been bound near the end of the last age and slain it, just because she wanted to see what sort of uses its corporeal form's organs and fluids would have. And even if that story wasn't true he had personally watched her punch out a dragon, twice. No one had ever died on her watch unless she killed them herself, so he felt rather safe in spite of the mysterious beast's legendary status.
Nonetheless, it was still pretty scary. Everyone was afraid, save himself, Professor Zinksfeld, and the new girl; who he only assumed wasn't afraid because she was quiet, had no perceivable indication of fear, and was reading a tabloid with the title 'new evidence shows that Emperor Altright keeps birds, official statement claims small, feathered, bipedal, beaked, flameless, herbivorous dragons'. Anyone who'd read something like that in public without heckling it loudly must have nerves of Kraj, or blood stone, or whatever mysterious, black substance or substances Professor Zinksfeld had made her sword out of.
"And blink, and here. Swords away, this is going to be an eyes and ears exercise only today."
A small village surrounded them, canvas tents shaped like cones just outside of town, adobe houses shaped like cones around the central park, rubber orange cones shaped like cones on the streets, someone in this town had really liked cones.
"Greetings, you have come to hear the Elder tell the tale?"
Professor Zinksfeld bowed to the newcomer, a tall, middle aged man wearing a very colorful and decorative cone. "Yes, these are my students. I want them to hear the tale so that they can learn from the lessons of your ancestors."
"And then they will perhaps stop in our gift shop?"
"Do you carry the reagents for teleportation?"
"Yes."
"Then yes, I'm sure they will."
"Follow me, I will show you to the elder."
They walked across the park, which Yuri noted as they crossed was round with the largest trees in the middle and the smallest on the edges. Before them rose a very large cone, with many lashing lights and a sign reading 'Village Elder and other curiosities". It came as no surprise when they found the elder sitting cross-legged on a mat in front of a large(and rather conical) statue. The humming, combined with his minor levitation charm, gave the impression he was meditating; the picture-in-lens sunglasses and earbud headphones said otherwise.
"ELDER!"
"What!" The old man removed his earbuds and sunglasses and spun himself around to face them. "OH! Touris...pilgrims come to hear of our illustrious ancestor. Sit, and I shall pass on the story of the great warrior."
Forty generations ago, there lived a young warrior. He was ambitious, fast, strong, and good looking as all young warriors were in those days. He travelled across the world, saving the weak and the poor from fates equal to or slightly less than death. And all knew that he was good and strong.
One day, he came to this village. Now the village had been beset for many years by a great beast that dwelled in the caves in the hills. It would come in the night and take a sheep, unless a virgin, a girl between the ages of sixteen and twenty-two(blonde hair preferable), was offered to him on new year's day. If she was offered than the flocks would be safe that year, but if she was not, or if she was deemed unsuitable, then the flocks would be devoured.
The warrior, happened upon our village on new year's eve. He saw the girl who was to be sacrificed and as their gaze met, and their eyes locked, they fell deeply in love. On learning of her fate, he vowed to slay the beast and that for the price of her hand the village would never again fear the loss of their flocks.
He went up into the hills that very hour. Through the night the sound of his battle with the fearsome creature drove terror into the villagers hearts. As the dawn broke they saw the shadow of the beast on the horizon, and they fled for their homes. But lo! The warrior bore it's carcass to the edge of town as proof that he had fulfilled his oath. And on new year's day he married the maid and lived in the village from that time on, happy as can be.
The whole class held still, disappointed by the lack of details on the fight itself. They had come for a fairy tale story about a warrior helping a village? What did this..
"Elder, perhaps you could tell my students how you fight the beast. You seem to have left that bit out."
"On purpose, most people laugh and leave when I tell that bit."
Professor Zinksfeld leaned in, her eyes narrowing and her voice gaining a sharpness even demons would fear. "I think you should tell them anyways, or else I might have to demonstrate the technique. And my demonstrations have been known to...screw it." She pressed her index finger to the bottom of his jaw and lifted him into the air. "I can do this all day or you can spare the time to tell the tale properly, got it you finite being of conceivable and negligible power?" The fabric of space seemed to run from her, several students..most of them actually fell over themselves trying to take cover. Yuri didn't bother, he'd seen her do worse and she never hurt anyone by accident.
"Yes ma'am, I'll tell them,"
"Thank you." Her voice softened in an instant, and the sudden containment of power caused everything to sort of bounce back into place. The only damage done was mental.
When the warrior returned, the villagers asked him how they too might defeat the beast. He looked at them and said, and I swear I'm not kidding, 'to defeat the beast, you must put your right foot into the shadows of your cave. Then you must take it out, or he will drag you in. Then you must repeat it, and be prepared because he will cause your nerves to feel as though they are struck by lightening. The feeling in your foot can be stopped by shaking it all about. Incant the spell of destruction, the great Hokey-Pokey. Then you must quickly turn yourself about, because the flash of light and roar of thunder as the spell impacts will blind and deafen you if you stare at it. I did this several times, alternating feet, and using both feet even; so that my balance would remain even and no foot would be stronger than the other. It took much time, for the beast's hide was as strong as its unwillingness to move. But my blade would not dent its armor, and I know of no stronger spell. Patience and precision, that's what it's all about.
"Hold on." Masne, ever the voice of skepticism, spoke up. "So you're telling us that the way to defeat the beast is, and correct me if I'm wrong; put your right foot in, take your right foot out, put your right foot in, and shake it all about. Then do the Hokey-Pokey and turn yourself about? That's what its all about?"
The Elder nodded, clearly to afraid of Professor Zinksfeld to lie or to avoid the question but nonetheless embarrassed and perturbed.
"You have got to be kidding me. Professor, this is clearly just a scam."
"Oh really? Well then, why don't you just head up to the cave and find out for yourself."
"It's a sham, there's no beast, there's no monster, there's probably not even caves."
"That'd be a shame, I'd hate for you to have to spend the whole day in the gift shop. Toodles!"
Professor Zinksfeld held up her hand and flicked it to one side just as she vanished in a small puff of white smoke.
"They say there is a great beast who lurks in the caves."
"It has the ability to start fires with its mind, and can strike with swiftness like the raven."
"I hear it has poison scales and teeth like a kris."
"I've heard it eats dragons, and then picks it's teeth with basilisk teeth."
"And you've all heard right, which is why I am going to take you to meet with the elder of the tribe that dwells nearest to the caves of Argetiam. He will tell you the way in which his ancestor slew one of the beasts many centuries ago."
Yuri knew that nothing was ever as it seemed with Professor Zinksfeld. Especially not when she had full reign, an infinite budget, and a large number of willing volunteers. Not that there was any real danger, word had it she'd released a demon that had been bound near the end of the last age and slain it, just because she wanted to see what sort of uses its corporeal form's organs and fluids would have. And even if that story wasn't true he had personally watched her punch out a dragon, twice. No one had ever died on her watch unless she killed them herself, so he felt rather safe in spite of the mysterious beast's legendary status.
Nonetheless, it was still pretty scary. Everyone was afraid, save himself, Professor Zinksfeld, and the new girl; who he only assumed wasn't afraid because she was quiet, had no perceivable indication of fear, and was reading a tabloid with the title 'new evidence shows that Emperor Altright keeps birds, official statement claims small, feathered, bipedal, beaked, flameless, herbivorous dragons'. Anyone who'd read something like that in public without heckling it loudly must have nerves of Kraj, or blood stone, or whatever mysterious, black substance or substances Professor Zinksfeld had made her sword out of.
"And blink, and here. Swords away, this is going to be an eyes and ears exercise only today."
A small village surrounded them, canvas tents shaped like cones just outside of town, adobe houses shaped like cones around the central park, rubber orange cones shaped like cones on the streets, someone in this town had really liked cones.
"Greetings, you have come to hear the Elder tell the tale?"
Professor Zinksfeld bowed to the newcomer, a tall, middle aged man wearing a very colorful and decorative cone. "Yes, these are my students. I want them to hear the tale so that they can learn from the lessons of your ancestors."
"And then they will perhaps stop in our gift shop?"
"Do you carry the reagents for teleportation?"
"Yes."
"Then yes, I'm sure they will."
"Follow me, I will show you to the elder."
They walked across the park, which Yuri noted as they crossed was round with the largest trees in the middle and the smallest on the edges. Before them rose a very large cone, with many lashing lights and a sign reading 'Village Elder and other curiosities". It came as no surprise when they found the elder sitting cross-legged on a mat in front of a large(and rather conical) statue. The humming, combined with his minor levitation charm, gave the impression he was meditating; the picture-in-lens sunglasses and earbud headphones said otherwise.
"ELDER!"
"What!" The old man removed his earbuds and sunglasses and spun himself around to face them. "OH! Touris...pilgrims come to hear of our illustrious ancestor. Sit, and I shall pass on the story of the great warrior."
Forty generations ago, there lived a young warrior. He was ambitious, fast, strong, and good looking as all young warriors were in those days. He travelled across the world, saving the weak and the poor from fates equal to or slightly less than death. And all knew that he was good and strong.
One day, he came to this village. Now the village had been beset for many years by a great beast that dwelled in the caves in the hills. It would come in the night and take a sheep, unless a virgin, a girl between the ages of sixteen and twenty-two(blonde hair preferable), was offered to him on new year's day. If she was offered than the flocks would be safe that year, but if she was not, or if she was deemed unsuitable, then the flocks would be devoured.
The warrior, happened upon our village on new year's eve. He saw the girl who was to be sacrificed and as their gaze met, and their eyes locked, they fell deeply in love. On learning of her fate, he vowed to slay the beast and that for the price of her hand the village would never again fear the loss of their flocks.
He went up into the hills that very hour. Through the night the sound of his battle with the fearsome creature drove terror into the villagers hearts. As the dawn broke they saw the shadow of the beast on the horizon, and they fled for their homes. But lo! The warrior bore it's carcass to the edge of town as proof that he had fulfilled his oath. And on new year's day he married the maid and lived in the village from that time on, happy as can be.
The whole class held still, disappointed by the lack of details on the fight itself. They had come for a fairy tale story about a warrior helping a village? What did this..
"Elder, perhaps you could tell my students how you fight the beast. You seem to have left that bit out."
"On purpose, most people laugh and leave when I tell that bit."
Professor Zinksfeld leaned in, her eyes narrowing and her voice gaining a sharpness even demons would fear. "I think you should tell them anyways, or else I might have to demonstrate the technique. And my demonstrations have been known to...screw it." She pressed her index finger to the bottom of his jaw and lifted him into the air. "I can do this all day or you can spare the time to tell the tale properly, got it you finite being of conceivable and negligible power?" The fabric of space seemed to run from her, several students..most of them actually fell over themselves trying to take cover. Yuri didn't bother, he'd seen her do worse and she never hurt anyone by accident.
"Yes ma'am, I'll tell them,"
"Thank you." Her voice softened in an instant, and the sudden containment of power caused everything to sort of bounce back into place. The only damage done was mental.
When the warrior returned, the villagers asked him how they too might defeat the beast. He looked at them and said, and I swear I'm not kidding, 'to defeat the beast, you must put your right foot into the shadows of your cave. Then you must take it out, or he will drag you in. Then you must repeat it, and be prepared because he will cause your nerves to feel as though they are struck by lightening. The feeling in your foot can be stopped by shaking it all about. Incant the spell of destruction, the great Hokey-Pokey. Then you must quickly turn yourself about, because the flash of light and roar of thunder as the spell impacts will blind and deafen you if you stare at it. I did this several times, alternating feet, and using both feet even; so that my balance would remain even and no foot would be stronger than the other. It took much time, for the beast's hide was as strong as its unwillingness to move. But my blade would not dent its armor, and I know of no stronger spell. Patience and precision, that's what it's all about.
"Hold on." Masne, ever the voice of skepticism, spoke up. "So you're telling us that the way to defeat the beast is, and correct me if I'm wrong; put your right foot in, take your right foot out, put your right foot in, and shake it all about. Then do the Hokey-Pokey and turn yourself about? That's what its all about?"
The Elder nodded, clearly to afraid of Professor Zinksfeld to lie or to avoid the question but nonetheless embarrassed and perturbed.
"You have got to be kidding me. Professor, this is clearly just a scam."
"Oh really? Well then, why don't you just head up to the cave and find out for yourself."
"It's a sham, there's no beast, there's no monster, there's probably not even caves."
"That'd be a shame, I'd hate for you to have to spend the whole day in the gift shop. Toodles!"
Professor Zinksfeld held up her hand and flicked it to one side just as she vanished in a small puff of white smoke.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Short Story; 'Not another zombie movie'
"Aaaaggghhhh!"
"For the last time child, we're not there yet."
"Just practicing, I mean we're about to get dropped out of a low flying aircraft into a city that's experiencing a class three solanium outbreak. I feel like I ought to have a decent scream."
"Kid you do realize that zombie movies tend to invert the usual rules of survival. The more you characterize yourself, the more likely it is one of us has to shoot you."
"Oh, now I am scared. I mean you guys all call me by my first name, its written on my breastplate, you call me kid I'm doomed!"
"I'm obligated to tell you that you won't die on my watch, but you probably will. I trust your papers are in order?"
"Yes sir. Are you obligated to tell me that by the part you're playing in all this, because the gristled captain rarely lives either."
"No, government mandated."
"Ah, so then AAGGGggghhhhhh!"
The door below them opened. A repulsor field slowed them as they hurtled to the ground, allowing most of them to land on their feet. He watched the kid, Janis, since she was doomed anyways her name made no difference now, land flat on her back, the wind knocked out of her. Sure enough a nearby zombie lept on top of her before anyone could react and started trying to rip her armor off. He lifted his rifle to shoot it off of her, but then spotted a crowd of them sprinting at him, the kid would have to wait. The rest of his men followed his lead, leaving Janis to deal with the zombie on her own.
Kid was doomed anyways.
Forty against ten, at this range it was even odds. They took lines and opened fire, slaughtering the crowd in seconds. He turned and heard a shufling behind them. Kid hadn't stood a chance. He pulled his pistol and spun to finish her killer. Instead he saw her pulling herself up, holding a fragment of the thing's skull. Her breastplate was shattered, most of it falling off just from the shifting of her movements. The armor on her right arm had shared its fate, as had the helm and legguards. He quickly revised his opinions of her, between the somehow aesthetically pleasing battle damage of her armor and the way her hair was somehow blowing in the nonexistant wind, she was clearly now the heroine.
"Janis, I'm revising the plan. You're in charge for the duration of this op. Lead on kid."
"Alright, first order of buisness. I'm imposing a fourth wall on this affair, from now on keep your opinions about who's going to die and why to yourselves. Not like we're in the plot cult here, we run things based on the way the government tells us to run things."
"Actually.."
She didn't let him finish, a sharp glance made it clear how she'd be dealing with idiocy.
"From now on, this is live; not another zombie movie."
"For the last time child, we're not there yet."
"Just practicing, I mean we're about to get dropped out of a low flying aircraft into a city that's experiencing a class three solanium outbreak. I feel like I ought to have a decent scream."
"Kid you do realize that zombie movies tend to invert the usual rules of survival. The more you characterize yourself, the more likely it is one of us has to shoot you."
"Oh, now I am scared. I mean you guys all call me by my first name, its written on my breastplate, you call me kid I'm doomed!"
"I'm obligated to tell you that you won't die on my watch, but you probably will. I trust your papers are in order?"
"Yes sir. Are you obligated to tell me that by the part you're playing in all this, because the gristled captain rarely lives either."
"No, government mandated."
"Ah, so then AAGGGggghhhhhh!"
The door below them opened. A repulsor field slowed them as they hurtled to the ground, allowing most of them to land on their feet. He watched the kid, Janis, since she was doomed anyways her name made no difference now, land flat on her back, the wind knocked out of her. Sure enough a nearby zombie lept on top of her before anyone could react and started trying to rip her armor off. He lifted his rifle to shoot it off of her, but then spotted a crowd of them sprinting at him, the kid would have to wait. The rest of his men followed his lead, leaving Janis to deal with the zombie on her own.
Kid was doomed anyways.
Forty against ten, at this range it was even odds. They took lines and opened fire, slaughtering the crowd in seconds. He turned and heard a shufling behind them. Kid hadn't stood a chance. He pulled his pistol and spun to finish her killer. Instead he saw her pulling herself up, holding a fragment of the thing's skull. Her breastplate was shattered, most of it falling off just from the shifting of her movements. The armor on her right arm had shared its fate, as had the helm and legguards. He quickly revised his opinions of her, between the somehow aesthetically pleasing battle damage of her armor and the way her hair was somehow blowing in the nonexistant wind, she was clearly now the heroine.
"Janis, I'm revising the plan. You're in charge for the duration of this op. Lead on kid."
"Alright, first order of buisness. I'm imposing a fourth wall on this affair, from now on keep your opinions about who's going to die and why to yourselves. Not like we're in the plot cult here, we run things based on the way the government tells us to run things."
"Actually.."
She didn't let him finish, a sharp glance made it clear how she'd be dealing with idiocy.
"From now on, this is live; not another zombie movie."
Monday, October 11, 2010
Short Story; Thalia's Good Day
Credits; Thalia,
"This is fantastic news! At last I shall have the Edge of Sanity, all shall bow before my power." Thalia, Queen of Gravaga, delivered one of her famous evil laughs. It was needlessly long and somehow managed to keep getting louder steadily despite lasting nearly ten straight minutes, more astonishing still was that she managed to do it without stopping to breathe.
"Out of principle I'm required to shoot you, which of your feet do you tend to prefer?"
"What?" The messenger was new at this, clearly he was a new hire. Everyone knew that the villain always shot the messenger, everyone Nielda anyways. Thalia was the best villain in the universe, and she knew it. As such, she had to serve as a good example to all the younger, less able villains. After all, what kind of world would it be if the villains just ran around randomly committing acts of evil with utter disregard for the rules? She'd grown up in a world like that, every kid with a minion and a cape ran around taking candy from babies and kidnapping determined young reporters. But she'd put a stop to that, candy was easy enough to get from stores and determined young reporters tended to be dating equally determined young heroes. Now villains knew to kidnap the determined young reporter's nerdy looking boyfriend first and to rob the generally undefended candy stores instead of the equally undefended and noticeably less wealthy orphanages.
Sadly in order to do that she had to occasionally shoot a few messengers.
"My right foot I suppose, do you really have to shoot me?"
"No." She snapped, one of her crystalline attendants stretched out a hand and blasted his left foot with a bolt of cold flame. The young messenger collapsed, clutching the shattered appendage and howling in pain.
"But it reminds me of why I became a villain in the first place. Take him down to the healer, give him time and a half while he recovers, and put his children on the Christmas mailing list if he has any."
"Yes creator"
"I prefer 'your ladyship', I'm not god you know."
"But you are the creator, we are your creation. Without you there would be no us."
"Poppycock, I'm sure someone would have thought of you eventually. It's not like no one has ever hypothesized a silicon based life form with a frost-fire nature and a logical personality type before, I just happen to be possessed of the incredible magical power needed to put it into effect. I didn't create you, I just realized you."
She flicked on the galaxy map and keyed in the new information.
"Besides, I've met you grandparents. You're quite natural, they were my creation."
"I am aware of..."
"This discussion bores me, send for Cyssie; I am going to need a particular device for this mission."
"Yes creator"
Yes, she had worked quite hard to get to were she was. The constant scheming, the needless shooting of innocents, theft of candy, corruption of heroes had drained her. She'd managed to avoid a few of the worse sort of villainy though, dogs had nothing to fear from her and most of her children got along with her just fine even if they didn't all follow in her path.
Cyssie was her youngest. She was about as neutral as it got, sold to anyone for dirt cheap. Spent every waking moment, and several sleeping ones, working on inventing new ways of doing things other people hadn't even thought of needing. Not the prettiest thing in the world, but she was about as good of a daughter as a Mom could ever want, called weekly, showed up for dinner monthly, never brought home a weird boyfriend. Admittedly she never brought any sort of boyfriend but no one was perfect.
She heard the telltale pop of an incoming teleport.
"Hey mom! I've got the Kierothaumatic Illusory Disruptofier you wanted!"
Right, and she had the communication skills of a child comic relief sidekick. There was that too.
"I'm going to assume that it does what I need, which button turns it on and how can I tell it's working?"
Cyssie sighed. She was used to it, and most people were probably interested in how things worked. Or for that matter, what Kierothamatic meant. But Thalia had always made it clear that she trusted it would work and didn't need to know how.
"This switch turns it on, and this light flashes when it's on."
"And how do I know when to turn it on?"
Cyssie took it back from her and switched it on.
"There Mom, it has an repeating internalized power supply. It won't stop working so there's no reason to turn it off."
"Any side effects I should know about?"
"Yea, staring at the blinking light to long will give you a killer headache, so I designed it to emit a periodic pulsing pain relief field. And the field may cause you and your enemies to be unaware of injuries they've taken for slightly longer than is healthy."
"You built a device that suppresses pain into a device that disrupts enchantments?"
"Yeah, maxed out the power supply too, and it has a self-shield, fragmentation armor, and a big red self destruct button for when the hero inevitably stops you."
"Cyssie, when was the last time a hero stopped me?"
"Well, the family is getting together for dinner on Friday, so I figure Dad shows up in the nick of time midday Thursday to stop you."
Right, Hal would show up and stop her as always. God she loved that man, he was the only thing standing between her and having to rule the universe. Ever since he'd first showed up in her throne room and commanded her to let his girlfriend of the time go, a request which she had happily complied with, no one else had foiled her plans. Over time they'd gotten quite close, and they'd eventually decided to go steady, he only foiled her plans and she never let anyone else foil her. When he finally captured her after he foiled her plan to use the artifact from the temple of Kasun, they'd gotten married. Soon afterward she had to postpone her plot to blackmail the King of Rhinsla while she was carrying their eldest daughter, Katherine. Sure they'd had their fights every other month, and they were both quite determined to cause the other humiliating defeat, but as far as relationships went, few immortals could claim better.
"Your payment will arrive in the usual manner. So are you going to bring someone to dinner one of these days or am I going to need to start inviting nice young men over for you?"
"Actualy Mom, I met someone at the artificer's conference last week. He's very eager to meet you, he's a big fan of your work with low decay reanimation."
"Really? Always nice to meet a fellow necromancer, does this young lad have a name?"
"Dr. Igor, he used to work with the count back in the day."
"Isn't he a henchman?"
"Popular misconception, he's brilliant! I was giving a lecture on the effects of high output power emitters on artificial reanimation and he came up to me afterwards to discuss it. Apparently he's been working on the same thing for ages! And yesterday he came over and we tried steady effect xyphonoids, made out for a while, and then calibrated some of the twitch-guided missiles I've been working on for the Pythens. It was amazing, and we even had time for dinner!"
And she thought Hal and her had weird dates. She couldn't help but feel like there was something in that statement that sounded normal for a date, but Cyssie always talked too fast for her to tell. But it was good to hear that her daughter was actually doing something normal-ish for once.
She sat back in her throne and relaxed. It was a good day.
"This is fantastic news! At last I shall have the Edge of Sanity, all shall bow before my power." Thalia, Queen of Gravaga, delivered one of her famous evil laughs. It was needlessly long and somehow managed to keep getting louder steadily despite lasting nearly ten straight minutes, more astonishing still was that she managed to do it without stopping to breathe.
"Out of principle I'm required to shoot you, which of your feet do you tend to prefer?"
"What?" The messenger was new at this, clearly he was a new hire. Everyone knew that the villain always shot the messenger, everyone Nielda anyways. Thalia was the best villain in the universe, and she knew it. As such, she had to serve as a good example to all the younger, less able villains. After all, what kind of world would it be if the villains just ran around randomly committing acts of evil with utter disregard for the rules? She'd grown up in a world like that, every kid with a minion and a cape ran around taking candy from babies and kidnapping determined young reporters. But she'd put a stop to that, candy was easy enough to get from stores and determined young reporters tended to be dating equally determined young heroes. Now villains knew to kidnap the determined young reporter's nerdy looking boyfriend first and to rob the generally undefended candy stores instead of the equally undefended and noticeably less wealthy orphanages.
Sadly in order to do that she had to occasionally shoot a few messengers.
"My right foot I suppose, do you really have to shoot me?"
"No." She snapped, one of her crystalline attendants stretched out a hand and blasted his left foot with a bolt of cold flame. The young messenger collapsed, clutching the shattered appendage and howling in pain.
"But it reminds me of why I became a villain in the first place. Take him down to the healer, give him time and a half while he recovers, and put his children on the Christmas mailing list if he has any."
"Yes creator"
"I prefer 'your ladyship', I'm not god you know."
"But you are the creator, we are your creation. Without you there would be no us."
"Poppycock, I'm sure someone would have thought of you eventually. It's not like no one has ever hypothesized a silicon based life form with a frost-fire nature and a logical personality type before, I just happen to be possessed of the incredible magical power needed to put it into effect. I didn't create you, I just realized you."
She flicked on the galaxy map and keyed in the new information.
"Besides, I've met you grandparents. You're quite natural, they were my creation."
"I am aware of..."
"This discussion bores me, send for Cyssie; I am going to need a particular device for this mission."
"Yes creator"
Yes, she had worked quite hard to get to were she was. The constant scheming, the needless shooting of innocents, theft of candy, corruption of heroes had drained her. She'd managed to avoid a few of the worse sort of villainy though, dogs had nothing to fear from her and most of her children got along with her just fine even if they didn't all follow in her path.
Cyssie was her youngest. She was about as neutral as it got, sold to anyone for dirt cheap. Spent every waking moment, and several sleeping ones, working on inventing new ways of doing things other people hadn't even thought of needing. Not the prettiest thing in the world, but she was about as good of a daughter as a Mom could ever want, called weekly, showed up for dinner monthly, never brought home a weird boyfriend. Admittedly she never brought any sort of boyfriend but no one was perfect.
She heard the telltale pop of an incoming teleport.
"Hey mom! I've got the Kierothaumatic Illusory Disruptofier you wanted!"
Right, and she had the communication skills of a child comic relief sidekick. There was that too.
"I'm going to assume that it does what I need, which button turns it on and how can I tell it's working?"
Cyssie sighed. She was used to it, and most people were probably interested in how things worked. Or for that matter, what Kierothamatic meant. But Thalia had always made it clear that she trusted it would work and didn't need to know how.
"This switch turns it on, and this light flashes when it's on."
"And how do I know when to turn it on?"
Cyssie took it back from her and switched it on.
"There Mom, it has an repeating internalized power supply. It won't stop working so there's no reason to turn it off."
"Any side effects I should know about?"
"Yea, staring at the blinking light to long will give you a killer headache, so I designed it to emit a periodic pulsing pain relief field. And the field may cause you and your enemies to be unaware of injuries they've taken for slightly longer than is healthy."
"You built a device that suppresses pain into a device that disrupts enchantments?"
"Yeah, maxed out the power supply too, and it has a self-shield, fragmentation armor, and a big red self destruct button for when the hero inevitably stops you."
"Cyssie, when was the last time a hero stopped me?"
"Well, the family is getting together for dinner on Friday, so I figure Dad shows up in the nick of time midday Thursday to stop you."
Right, Hal would show up and stop her as always. God she loved that man, he was the only thing standing between her and having to rule the universe. Ever since he'd first showed up in her throne room and commanded her to let his girlfriend of the time go, a request which she had happily complied with, no one else had foiled her plans. Over time they'd gotten quite close, and they'd eventually decided to go steady, he only foiled her plans and she never let anyone else foil her. When he finally captured her after he foiled her plan to use the artifact from the temple of Kasun, they'd gotten married. Soon afterward she had to postpone her plot to blackmail the King of Rhinsla while she was carrying their eldest daughter, Katherine. Sure they'd had their fights every other month, and they were both quite determined to cause the other humiliating defeat, but as far as relationships went, few immortals could claim better.
"Your payment will arrive in the usual manner. So are you going to bring someone to dinner one of these days or am I going to need to start inviting nice young men over for you?"
"Actualy Mom, I met someone at the artificer's conference last week. He's very eager to meet you, he's a big fan of your work with low decay reanimation."
"Really? Always nice to meet a fellow necromancer, does this young lad have a name?"
"Dr. Igor, he used to work with the count back in the day."
"Isn't he a henchman?"
"Popular misconception, he's brilliant! I was giving a lecture on the effects of high output power emitters on artificial reanimation and he came up to me afterwards to discuss it. Apparently he's been working on the same thing for ages! And yesterday he came over and we tried steady effect xyphonoids, made out for a while, and then calibrated some of the twitch-guided missiles I've been working on for the Pythens. It was amazing, and we even had time for dinner!"
And she thought Hal and her had weird dates. She couldn't help but feel like there was something in that statement that sounded normal for a date, but Cyssie always talked too fast for her to tell. But it was good to hear that her daughter was actually doing something normal-ish for once.
She sat back in her throne and relaxed. It was a good day.
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