[Story] Chronicles of Jakob Pettersohn (01/Jun/08 - Final chapter)

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Possibly, but not, I think, by Amber.

Of course, your bringing it up suggests things like shuffling the card index, or moving tantric sex volumes into the children's picture book section, or something of the like....

... or maybe into the quantum physics section. That seems more likely...

[Tapewolf]

And now, it's H. P. Lovecraft hour!

Chapter 25

"How are you off for leave, Yak?" said Petter.  "I've been invited to a party by an old friend who used to study at the Academy, and he insisted that I bring someone with me.  It's on the fifth."

"I should be able to manage that," I replied.
Although he was my father, I never really seemed able to address him as 'Dad', not least because he looked younger than I did.

At the appointed hour, we found ourselves at the address he had been given.
It was a large, Gothic mansion a few miles from where Xe'Pherion City was currently located.  The mansion seemed at one time to have been a place of worship, but had since been re-architected as an abode of demons.

Petter had come wearing a white shirt with a curious red marking upon it, something a bit like a clan symbol but harsher.  It looked as though he had painted it on himself, and I had half a mind to ask where he'd got it from, but I didn't.  "Just dress casual," he had said earlier.

When we arrived, we found a group of people gathered upon a space of gravel, evidently laid out flat for some particular purpose.  To my dismay, they were all stood in rows, wearing the same kind of white teeshirt that Petter had.  Each one was adorned with a different occult sigil, daubed upon the shirt in what I hoped was not blood.

Oh my Gods, it's a coven, I thought.

"How did you meet your friend?" I asked nervously.

"He was studying the Secret Religions of Furrae module," Petter replied.
"Rather an interesting guy, although we kind of lost touch when he began to concentrate exclusively on religion.  He turned somewhat inward."

"Welcome Petter," said a canine incubus with black leathery wings and headwings.  He had the look of an Alsatian, although his fur was entirely white.
"Good to see you again.  And I thank you for bringing your friend here."

"Jakob," I said.  "Pleased to meet you."

"Malnemar.  It's always good to meet a fellow incubus," he replied, shaking my hand.  Glancing at his watch, he suddenly looked up sharply.

"Oh, I'm sorry.  It is time to begin the preliminaries, so if you will excuse me, I must start.  I'm sure Petter will help you out."

So saying, he turned and was shortly stood at the head of the lines.  Petter took his place in the shorter row and bade me join him.  With Malnemar, we made exactly thirteen.

"In times past there were other gods," he called in a singsong voice.

As he stopped speaking, the disciples chanted "Oo-Rei-Aar" and gyrated, twisting their bodies and limbs into occult gestures.
Acutely aware that I was the only one without a white shirt, and that I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing, I glanced at Petter and copied his gestures awkwardly.

"They sought to contain our Father for His power had grown strong," he called.

"Oo-Rei-Aar" replied the crowd and moved their bodies into a new pose.

"Their weakness proved its own reward,
For now the pretenders lie dead and there is only one god,"

"Oo-Rei-Aar..."

"And His name is Thess," Malnemar called exultantly.
"Blessed be He for ever and ever!"

"Oo-Rei-Aar!  Thess Oo-Rei-Al!" called the disciples and performed an even more intricate gesture.

"He is the door, and the key to the door.
When He embraces Himself the way is clear!
As once it was, soon shall it be again!"

"Oo-Rei-Aar!  Thess Oo-Rei-Al!" the disciples screamed, and then silence fell.

"Very good.  We shall begin," he said in a perfectly normal voice, and clapped his hands.
"Within the house lies the golden chalice, sacred relic of our Father Thess, bestowed unto me in my travels."

"I think he stole it from SAIA," Petter hissed.

"He whomsoever finds the chalice shall be granted the riches promised us by our Father.  Go now, and seek it."  Malnemar clapped his hands again, peering up at the gathering clouds and the disciples filed into the large, creepy-looking mansion.

The mansion had about eight stories and countless rooms upon each floor, some of which were centuries old, others which would not have looked out of place in Zinvth, or even Earth.

Although we were supposed to seek the cup on our own, Petter and I joined together and worked as a team.  The maze-like aspect of the mansion was heightened by the fact that many doors were locked, and a good portion of our time was spent looking for keys to open them, keys which were hidden in strange and peculiar places.
Malnemar was nowhere to be found.

There were so many questions I wanted to ask Petter, about how he had come to be involved in a religious cult like this, and indeed how deep his involvement went.  Was he a disciple, an acolyte or simply a friend to the cult's leader?

I decided against such direct questioning - besides, we were not alone.  While it could be a perfectly benevolent religion, I was far from convinced.
It had begun to rain just as we entered the house, and where some of the disciples' shirts had got wet, the glyphs upon their backs had run.  I decided I was not going to ask Petter why one of his fingers was bandaged.

"Are all his parties like this?"  I asked, a seemingly-innocent question, but one where the answers could be very revealing.

"I've only been to one before," he said.  "And I wasn't sure if it would be the same this time.  I wasn't even sure if we were supposed to come in formal dress or what, but since he did ordain me as a sort of honorary member of the sect, I figured it would be a nice gesture to come in ceremonial attire.  I figured I could always shapeshift it into something else later on if need be."

We tried a key I had found lying beneath an ash-tray upon the door in one of the peculiar rooms - it was split-level, with stairs joining the two doorways which were at different heights.  Keeping the carpet clean must have been a real drag, but such thoughts vanished from my mind as the door sprung open.

"Hah!" I said.  "Should we leave the door unlocked, or lock it again?  For that matter, should we share the keys with the other guests, or hoard them for our own use?"

"I'm not sure," he replied.  "Keeping them to ourselves is a strategic advantage, but it seems somehow unfair.  I guess it depends how desperate you are to win, really.  Tell you what - let's keep the keys, but leave the doors unlocked, at least for now."

Behind us, there was a burst of satisfaction, as one of the other 'guests' - a raccoon Being - located a key behind a dusty old tome and unlocked another door, blissfully ignorant of the fact that Petter and I could feel his emotions and thoughts.  He passed through the door and there was a sharp click as he locked it behind himself.

"Well, at least we know what his take on it is," I muttered darkly.
"You'd better hold me back if we meet him again, or I'll kill the little bastard." I locked the door we had just come through out of spite.

An hour later it seemed that everyone else was doing that too, as there were many doors which were locked and little things out of place in the rooms which led me to believe that a key had been taken from somewhere and not returned.
I became more and more frustrated, and even caught myself wondering whether to attack one of the other 'guests' and steal their keys.

As Petter slipped into the room next door to have another look at what appeared to be a locked fire-door, I leaned upon a bureau that wouldn't open.  Like all the other locks, it was warded against telekinesis, which was pity, otherwise we could have just used that and not bothered with the keys at all.

I gazed irritably at a picture hanging on the wall, when I was suddenly struck by an idea.  Examining it, I found a combination lock in a compartment behind it, and incredibly, he had forgotten to place a ward upon it.

Oho, I thought, That's got to be where the chalice is.  So, there's a scrap of paper with the code in this treasure hunt as well, eh?  Well, I can't be arsed to go and find it.  Not when I can get this open in seconds and snag the prize, at any rate.

Pressing my finger against it I examined the mechanism with my mind, and as my finger glowed, the six internal bolts withdrew and the safe sprung open to reveal not the chalice, but a pair of keys.

Curious, I thought, and tried them on the bureau.  Inside was a small drawer, which I unlocked and removed using the other key.  To my delight, it was filled with keys.  "Now I've got you," I said, thinking of Malnemar.

Just then, Petter came back in.  Grinning, I showed him the drawer.
"Oh my Gods," he said, aghast.  "I don't think you were supposed to do that.  It's probably the keys for the parts of the mansion which are off-limits to the game."

"Well I'm getting bloody sick of this so-called 'game', so to Hell with it!" I snarled, and marched into the other room, carrying the drawer full of keys.

Selecting one I got the fire-door open, but it was self-closing and it slammed shut before I could stop it.  Since I had the key, Petter was stuck - because the face of the door from this side was perfectly smooth, with no lock nor handle.

"I'll head right and try and meet you the other side," I shouted, hearing his faint acknowledgement through the door.  But even armed with the secret box of keys, I found myself getting progessively more and more lost within the hidden depths of the mansion.

Eventually, some three hours later, I despaired of ever finding Petter again, and decided to leave this madhouse entirely.

No big deal, I thought.  I'll catch up with him tomorrow at the Academy.  To be honest, I've been to better parties.

Opening a sturdy iron door, I found myself in the grounds of the mansion once again.  Turning a corner, I almost ran right into Malnemar himself.

"At last, I was afraid we'd lost you," he said, smiling as if in great relief.  "The game ended hours ago.  Now is the time for the cleansing-of-self.  I know this is your first time, but don't worry."

He produced a quill and a small vial of red liquid.  Blood?

"I'd keep the shirt, if I were you," he said.  "It helps conceal the fact that you don't have the tattoo upon your chest."

He opened a door, and led me in to a board-room, where all the other guests, including Petter, were sitting naked at the table.  In front of each person was a small red book, a quill and an inkwell, presumably filled with blood.

Oh shit, I thought.  Petter, whatever have you let us in for?

Malnemar, wearing his ceremonial robes and now the only fully-clothed individual in the party, left through the back door into a small study.
Before he did so, he told us that we were each to write our own account of the chalice game, providing evidence that would denounce another member of the group.  Once we were done, he would call us in turn to the study for a one-to-one interview.

This was a problem for me, as the only person I had ever met before was my father, and no way in Hell was I going to denounce him.  Besides, since I wasn't a member of the cult in the first place, lacking the vestments, tattoo and in short being wholly incompetent, it was a dead cert that the others were going to denounce me anyway.  So I signed my name, but left the book blank and waited.

As I waited I suddenly realised that there was something odd.  The two rows of people sat on opposite sides of the table had looked okay when I entered, and there was Malnemar too, but now that he was gone I realised I had miscounted.  There had been twelve disciples before, and now there were only eleven of us.

As my horror grew, the door opened and Malnemar came to collect the books.
He returned to the study for a few minutes before returning to call out his first interviewee.  It was me, of course.

"Sit down," he said warmly, and offered me a drink.  "I wouldn't normally do this, but I guessed that it would be better to sort you out right away, so you're not just sitting there fretting to yourself and generally stewing."

"Thanks," I said nervously.

"No problem.  Now, you killed Lucien in the library, didn't you?" he smiled.

"What?" I snapped, my frayed nerves giving rise to a quick temper.

By way of reply, he pointed and as I turned to look, he locked the study door.  But I barely noticed, for my eyes were locked upon the corpse of a young lupine Angel, perhaps twenty years old at most.  His heart had been pierced and his dead eyes still stared at the ceiling with a look of terror.
He had been dead for an hour at least, but I checked anyway.  Steeling myself, I closed my own eyes and looked, but the poor wolf's soul was no longer there.


Xe'Pherion City was created by Azlan.  Used with permission.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

-Interesting-....

I shall be interested to see how he gets out of this. :-)

[Drake Manaweilder]

So, you've run about the dungon, found a treasure, and now you are locked in what I presume is a large room with the cult leader... Boss Battle anyone?

...Sorry, I just needed to say that.

One thing strikes me as odd though, Ashley's new clothing choices annoy Jakob, but being naked in a room with about 10 others dosen't phase him? Or is it the "400 years of College" thing again?

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

He's not fazed by nudity because Furrae has different rules about nudity to, say, classical American culture.

Or, at least, that would be my guess....

[Tapewolf]

One thing strikes me as odd though, Ashley's new clothing choices annoy Jakob, but being naked in a room with about 10 others dosen't phase him? Or is it the "400 years of College" thing again?

He's not exactly in a good position to protest
Also, everyone is sitting at the table anyway so there's not that much to see.

I wasn't sure whether to mention this until after the storyline has ended (it's run into two-and-a-half chapters so far), but I will.  This story was originally based upon a particularly epic dream I had about five years ago.  It was so vivid that I wrote as much as I could remember down on a piece of A4 paper.  Which I found the other day during the house move.  Adapting it to Furrae and the Jakob Pettersohn series was trivially easy, and in many ways enhanced it since it means that the rituals could easily amount to something significant.

[Fex]

man the story your writing is like Harry Potter, The Dragonthrone and The wheel of time. It gives me a reading kick so that I become addicted to the story gimme more

[Tapewolf]

man the story your writing is like Harry Potter, The Dragonthrone and The wheel of time. It gives me a reading kick so that I become addicted to the story gimme more

Heh.  I'm stringing this one out because although the next chapter is good to go, the third chapter in this mini-arc is still pretty rough, so I'm trying to buy more time 

That and much of my creativity has been going into Future History... 

[GabrielsThoughts]

the disciples chanted "Oo-Rei-Aar" and gyrated, twisting their bodies and limbs into occult gestures.
Acutely aware that I was the only one without a white shirt, and that I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing, I glanced at Petter and copied his gestures awkwardly.

I later discovered that the gestures were practice for twirling glow rods at a rave and the Oo-Rei-Aar sounds were Techno music... And then I was like whoa! when I realized introducing Ganja into the academy was a wise investment.   

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Nah.

Rave kiddies take E, not weed. :-]

[Tapewolf]

GT is closer to the mark than he realises.  I'll explain why later on, but it will probably make people laugh, which isn't the aim of this storyline 

Chapter 26

"I had nothing to do with it," I said, still staring at the lupine corpse.  "I never even found the key to the damned library."

"Neither did Lucien," said Malnemar, "But he did find the chalice.  And now he has found the riches of Thess as well."  he smiled, as though he was offering to buy me a sandwich.

It was a good job I had been sitting down, for the sight of the murder and my sudden, horrible realisation of what was in the ink-wells brought back terrible memories and my head began to sway.  But fainting was not an option - if I left myself vulnerable, I might join the Angel in death.

"I've been wanting to eliminate that little prick for some time now, but the main difficulty was finding someone to pin the blame on," he continued, "And who better to blame for this murder than Johan Cross?  I've already messaged the town guards, and they should be coming to arrest you soon."

"But he is here in your study!  How can you possibly tell them that he died in the library?  And how do you propose to blame me?"

"Obviously I'll warp the body to the place where it was found.  As you have probably guessed, the other acolytes have denounced you.  Since you have left your book entirely blank aside from your name, you alone have no record of where you were and what you were doing during the game!  So my story will be easy to verify.
"Of course, the real proof is here." he added, and he was still smiling.

He picked up a small tape recorder, based on the UHER design but made indigenously within Furrae.  As he hit play, I heard myself say "I'll kill the little bastard.  Hah!  Now I've got you," followed by a whimper and Lucien's death cry as he was murdered.

"You spliced that together," I said.

"Of course, but it's a second-generation copy.  They won't see the joins."

"You've lost the plot!  How are you going to explain that you just so happened to record the murder?"

"It was in a drawer, a two-hour tape.  What I've played you is just the best bit.  I've spent the last half-hour constructing the rest of the tape to make it sound convincing.  Copied at seven times speed as I'm sure you'll appreciate.  And now, I must go.  Ki'pri, take Lucien and myself to the library."

A small Warp-Aci appeared and Malnemar hefted the murdered Angel upon his back before they were teleported out.

Malnemar hadn't forgotten that I too was very capable with teleportation, and so he had placed some kind of suppressor field upon the room.  It seemed that only a Warp-Aci would be able to operate here, and since I didn't have one, I was stuck.

The door was firmly locked, and the lock had a ward upon it to prevent me from picking it telekinetically.  I realised that I still had a few keys from the forbidden drawer in my shirt pocket - if it hadn't been for Malnemar's insistence that I wear it to conceal the lack of tattoos, he would probably have been able to relieve me of them.

Unfortunately, none of the keys worked.  Looking for inspiration or something that Malnemar had overlooked, I rifled through the office.  Since arresting me naked was probably not part of the plan, I figured there would probably be some clothing around as well.  In a chest I found a set of white acolyte garbs and put them on.

And then I had an idea.
It depended on the kind of ward spell he had used, but it might just work.  Placing one of the keys into the lock - actually the key to the bureau - I concentrated for a few moments and the latch clicked open.
The ward he had used was only protecting the lock itself - otherwise it would probably prevent the lock from opening when the key was inserted too.  So I had placed a key within the lock and used my powers to morph the shape of the key inside it.

I opened the door slowly and quietly, but to my relief the acolytes were gone.  Indeed, I began to wonder where they could be.  And what was Malnemar up to?

I couldn't find out whether he was still in the library, because I had no idea where it was.  On a hunch, I looked out of the window, but the view was obscured by the trees in the garden.  Entering the next room I had a much better vantage point and I immediately spotted him outside, talking to the guards who had presumably just arrived.  They were dressed in the livery of the city and their leader was a tall, brown wolf Being.

As I watched, Malnemar and the guards vanished, taken somewhere by his Warp Aci.  I panicked and threw myself to the ground, but he didn't reappear.  No, he'll take them to the library first, I thought.

I hid under the boardroom table, and a few minutes later he appeared with two of the guards.  He tried to unlock the door, but since I had already done this his actions had locked it again and he promptly ran face-first into it.
Puzzled, he tried again and this time unlocked it once more.  There was a cry of dismay as they entered and suddenly realised that I was gone.
Before they could start a more thorough search, I made a magical pass and vanished in a flash of darkness, fortunately muted by the shadows beneath the table.

I could simply have teleported back to SAIA, but there was Petter to take care of.  I wasn't sure that he would live long, as he would probably turn violent when he realised that Malnemar had framed his son for a murder - and Mal was a formidable opponent.

And then there was something else.  Something about the stare in Lucien's eyes, not just terror, but a deadness to them, as though his soul had been eaten.

Involuntarily, I crossed myself - a throwback to my days in the Church of Christ the Human - if that poor cub had been soul-eaten, it was total murder and Malnemar would pay for it with his soul.  No, stop thinking like that.  I prayed that it was either just terror, or that his soul had simply been trapped and not actually devoured.

"He is the door, and the key to the door.
When He embraces Himself the way is clear!
As once it was, soon shall it be again!"

The litany came back to me as I pondered Malnemar's motives.   It sounded like he was intending to summon something, but what?

I wandered down the corridor, when a voice called out from behind.  I whirled around to see three guards.

"Mr. Cross, you are under arrest for the murder of Lucien Small," said the officer.  "Fetch the lieutenant," he added to one of his men.

"I had nothing to do with it," I said.  "It was Malnemar.  Did you hear that little forgery of his or something?"

"We heard you kill him," replied the officer.  It seemed they didn't know much about tape editing, although I suppose it was a relatively new technology.  Well, for them, at least.

"Don't be ridiculous," I said.  "He edited that together.  The murder took place  less than two hours ago, and besides, why is the host of a party going to take  the time to sit down and listen to a boring, two-hour long tape of silence punctuated by random sounds, when he should be entertaining his guests or searching for the missing one?  Now stop this nonsense and help me catch the real killer."

"That may be," he said.  "And if you are innocent of this particular crime - which I doubt given your history - then taking you into custody will clear your name should the 'real' killer strike again." he laughed.

"Have you gone mad?" I screamed.  "Are you honestly going to wait for him to kill again?  Well, if he's playing the game I think he's playing, the next victim will be my father - and I will not allow you to jeopardise his life, and quite possibly his soul, with this bullshit of yours!  So if you want to bring me in, well you'll have to catch me first."

He drew a small crossbow.  It wouldn't have much power behind it, but that didn't really matter as it had been designed to fire enchanted tranquiliser darts.
"Don't even think about summoning a Warp-Aci," he said.  But I was already making the gestures behind my back.

"Those are for girls," I said, and vanished.

Summoning.  He's going to perform this weird ritual somewhere.  But where?  Out in the woods?  No, someone might spot them.  Somewhere in the house, then?  Probably.  Yes, down in the vaults, tombs or a wine cellar or something.

I tried each in turn, and of course it turned out they were in the last place on my list.  The door was locked of course, but I had the key and opened it swiftly, quietly creeping down the steps.

In the cellar, the guests were gathered.  They were wearing the white shirts again, and gyrating as Malnemar stood before a stone altar.  Upon it was the chalice.

"The soul of an Angel for our Father," he cried, and I suddenly realised what he was up to.  Lucien's soul was inside the chalice.

"No!" I screamed and with a burst of pure will, the chalice flew from the altar.  It should have soared into my open hand, but I missed and it fell to the floor.  Malnemar ran towards me, his wings fanned out and his face a mixture of fury, hate and desperation, but at least he wasn't smiling anymore.

He had got everything in place to eat the Angel's soul.  All this 'Thess' business was bunk - he was simply trying to increase his own powers and the religion made an excellent cover.
He probably wanted to feed off the emotions of his followers during the ceremony while he 'sacrificed' Lucien, which would explain why he had saved the soul until now rather than absorbing it immediately.

He scrabbled for the chalice and I kicked him, but he pulled me down and we fought, biting, punching, kicking.  As we did so, the chalice rolled across the floor until it was snatched up by one of the disciples.

"Give me that!", yelled Mal, as he tried to curl his wing-tentacles around me, but to little effect, as I had hardened my skin and my own tentacles were around him too.  We were pretty much at a deadlock - it all depended on how his followers would react.

"No."  Petter clutched the chalice tightly.  "This whole ceremony is a charade.  There is no Thess - He is just you.  You're trying to become a tri-wing, and I will not let you do that through soul-murder."
Way to go, Dad! I thought.  Warped minds think alike, as they say.

'Cubi are prone to bursts of emotion, and Mal was positively incandescent.  I could feel doubts creeping into some of his followers.
"Blasphemer!" he screamed.  "The heretic must die, my children.  Thess commands the death of all defilers!"

His command had come quickly, with no hesitation.  The way Petter had figured it out by himself had vindicated my suspicions - Mal would obviously want to purge his cult of any Creatures who knew enough magic to see that his miracles were a fraud, but at the same time, devouring the souls of other Creatures would give him a far bigger boost than a Being would.
Indeed, that was probably why he'd originally killed Lucien, because the young wolf had recognised one of the spells Mal had used in his rituals.

The followers dithered, horrified by the sudden change in attitude of the leader they had admired.  Mal had definitely pushed them too far this time, as they had never been asked to commit murder before, and it was far too soon for such a major leap of faith.  In addition, their foe was an incubus who could easily kill them instead.  Or worse.

"Why did you recruit Petter in the first place?"  I asked.  We were still entangled, but I was hoping it would distract him and give me an advantage.
Apparently he thought so too, but he replied anyway, most likely in hopes of distracting me.

"He seemed sympathetic to my researches.  I was hoping to share my power with him, but it seems he is still too hamstrung by the Being outlook to eat his inferiors.  Well, he can age and die for his precious moral attitude, while the rest of us embrace the future!  Assuming my followers don't kill him first."

"There must be another way," I said.  "Immortality should not have to come at the price of other people's lives and souls."

"You?  A bleeding-heart Being sympathiser?  You've gone soft, old man!  I certainly expected more from Johan Cross!" he laughed.

Some of his more willing followers moved hesitantly towards Petter, clutching chairs and other impromptu weapons.  Petter snarled and brought out his tentacles, but he was constrained by space and the fact that he could not let go of the precious chalice.

"Stop pissing about and KILL HIM!" roared Malnemar, apparently forgetting that his followers didn't have tentacles.

The moment he said this, a sudden silence fell, broken only by the sound of wood as the followers dropped their weapons.  Mal and I both turned to see what the followers were gaping at.  It was a newcomer, the lieutenant of the guards I had seen through the window.  Only he wasn't a Being anymore.

The wolf stood there upon the steps into the cellar, looking down upon the melee with his hands upon his hips and his wings and headwings fluffed out in an expression of sheer fury.

"You are under arrest," he snarled.  "All of you."

[Paladin Sheppard]

>.> <.< Mwhahahha.

Nice chapter Tape!

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Nice twist. Can't wait for the next bit.

[GabrielsThoughts]

wonders what Ink would think about the "Warp-Aci are for girls" comment.


hmm, invents  a morph key "Ah ha!" I shouted "one person could use the same key to open the front door to their house, their post office box, drive their car, and I've already used it to open a few doors at my local bank"..."I'm in the money, I'm in the money, I got a lot of what it takes to get along"

[Gabi]

Very original, and hooking too.

[Tapewolf]

Thanks.  And thanks to Paladin for his cameo.

Nice twist. Can't wait for the next bit.

When you first posted this, I was going to say "nor can I", but it's actually falling into place now.  The original dream ended about when I was played the tape, so I've been winging it after that...

[Gabi]

That makes me wonder why you have dreams like that. ¬_¬

[Fex]

yay for plottwists

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

*starts hula-ing*

[Tapewolf]

This is late owing to what you might call "a buffer underrun".  Thanks to Pal for his help with the fight scenes, though.  Details still need to be worked out for the followup...

Chapter 27

Before the lieutenant could get a good look at me, I shapeshifted slightly into grey fox form.
Making sure he wasn't looking directly at me, I withdrew my tentacles and assumed a Being form.  These changes were close enough that he wouldn't notice, yet distant enough that he probably wouldn't take me for Johan Cross, and the fact that I was dressed as an acolyte helped as well.  I was not the only grey canid amongst his flock, and that should confuse matters further.

As I watched, the lieutenant shifted as well, hiding his wings so that he could once again pass for a Being himself.  Interesting, I thought.  So his own men don't know what he is?  I might be able to use that to my advantage.

"You!" the lieutenant barked, pointing at Malnemar as his men arrived behind him.  "Let the Being go.  What is the meaning of this outrage?"

"We were partaking in a sacred religious duty when these men arrived and stole our sacred chalice, defiling it and angering our god," the alsatian spat furiously as his tentacles unwound from me.

"And is it common practice in these religious duties to order yer acolytes to kill someone?" the wolf laughed harshly.  "May I remind ye that sacrificing other Creatures is counted as murder under section 7 of the region's penal code?"

Malnemar was too angry to reply to that, so the lieutenant snapped his fingers and his officers stood the alsatian against the wall, guarding him with the mini-crossbow.

"You.  The incubus with the chalice.  Put it down and explain yeself."

"No," said Petter, clutching it tightly.  "It contains the soul of Lucien Small and Malnemar was going to eat it.  I cannot let that happen."

"And how do I know your plan wasn't to eat it yourself?" replied the other wolf.  "I was summoned here to arrest Johan Cross for murdering Small, and ye fit the  description I was given to a tee.  Now come on, Mr. Cross... Put the chalice on the floor and surrender quietly."

Petter reluctantly did so.  "For your information, I am not Johan Cross," he replied softly.  "I am Petter Josefsohn.  If you wish to arrest me, I will not resist - but I beg of you, please... take great care of the chalice."

"Now you," said the lieutenant, pointing at me.  "Yes, you.  Ye were fighting Malnemar.  Why?"
Turning to face him, I was able to make out the name tag on his armour: 'Paladin Sheppard'.  But before I could answer, Malnemar let out a cry of fury.

"HE IS JOHAN CROSS," he yelled.  "He defiled the ceremony!  He killed Small!  He tried to kill me!"

"He stopped you from eating Lucien's soul, you mean," I retorted.

"He looks like a Being," said Paladin.  "But it can be hard to tell with these things.  Especially since no-one knows what Johan Cross really looked like... But still.  My money's on the incubus, personally.  The Being-Creature Council will want to have a word with him."

"That's not Johan Cross," I started.  "That's my father.  I..." but before I could finish, the room was plunged into darkness.

Although a wolf - even a furre - has better night vision than a human, Paladin and I needed some light to see by and the basement we were in had no natural lighting at all.  Malnemar knew this very well, and each time the rest of us had been distracted, he had gently edged his way closer and closer to the light switch, which happened to be on the wall where Paladin was lining up his prisoners.

Pushing the acolytes out of the way, I cast a dim light spell and raced over to where Petter had stood.  Malnemar was already there, but he had not been able find the chalice until I had helpfully shown him where it was.  As he reached to take it I kicked his hand away, seizing the chalice myself and disappearing.

I reappeared in the boardroom and entered the office, swearing as I remembered that Lucien was no longer there.  Unless the guards had removed his corpse, he was in the library and I had no idea where that was.  And then I realised I didn't need to know.
Seconds later I was a snow-white alsatian with black leathery wings and a bat in my hair.

"Ki'Pri," I said in a close approximation of Malnemar's voice, "Take me to the library."  Fortunately Warp-Aci tend to be pretty stupid.

Inside the library I moved hastily to where the fallen Angel lay.  Placing the cup to his dead lips, I intoned a spell which I had learned during my second stint as a student at SAIA.  I had mastered it too late for Azrael, but perhaps it was not too late for Lucien.

The dead Angel coughed and his eyes came into focus.  There was a strange glow about them.  When he saw me he gave a scream of terror.
"Please, Holy Father..." he begged, "don't kill..." His voice trailed off as I reverted to my base form.

"I'll explain later," I said urgently.  "For now, pretend you're dead again."

"Dead... again?" he said uncomprehendingly.

"You're undead.  I'm sorry, but it was the best I could do.  Malnemar was going to eat your soul, but if he thinks you're dead, your corpse is the last place he'll think to look for it.  Like I said, I'll explain later.  Now lie down and stop breathing at once!"

"You're not Mally," said a small voice behind me.

"Piss off," I told it.  "Go away.  Go back to Malnemar."

The little creature's eyes narrowed and it began to quiver.  I ducked just as it lashed out at me.  I had never seen a Warp-Aci get angry before, but since their tails could slice through anything, I quickly realised that this was distinctly not good.

I was still holding the cup when Paladin reappeared.  He had a Warp-Aci too, which quickly broke away and took on Ki'Pri in one of the strangest fights I have ever witnessed.

Paladin turned back to face me, but noticed a movement behind him.  Spinning around he saw two figures whom I guessed were Malnemar and Petter.  It seemed that Mal, figuring I must have had impersonated him had decided to impersonate me instead, and Petter had done the same.  The armoured wolf glanced between the three of us with a look of rising frustration at the three Jakobs.

"One of ye is Johan Cross," he barked, "and if ye confess it and surrender, I shall take it into account in my statement."

"I am," we said, almost but not quite in unison.  Paladin was about to lose it completely when there was a shriek of rage and Ki'Pri vanished in retreat, Paladin's Warp-Aci floating down to hover near him with a smug expression on its face.

That was just the distraction Malnemar needed, and he lunged at me, knocking the cup from my hands, sending it sailing across the library and wrestling me to the floor yet again.  Of course, this time he had Paladin and Petter to contend with as well, but nonetheless he put up an incredible struggle, finally managing to slip free amid the chaos.  Meanwhile, Paladin and Petter had lost track of which grey wolf incubus was which and managed to get me into an armlock, the former placing a suppressor charm around my neck to prevent me from shapeshifting.

"Stop him," I cried in despair, causing Petter to glance at the fleeing figure.  At this point he let out a foul oath as Malnemar reverted to base form.  Groping beneath a desk with his hands and tentacles, the alsatian felt for the lost chalice, cackling with malicious glee as he did so.

"Soon I shall crush you all like bugs," he sang to himself.  Paladin released me and stood up.
The brown wolf's stern expression gave way to horror as the thought struck him that Malnemar was Johan Cross and that the shadowy incubus whose name was still reviled for miles around Ha'Khunn would soon transcend in some terrible ritual a few sandwiches short of apotheosis.

With the precious cup finally in his eager hands, Malnemar placed the chalice to his lips.  He made as if to drink it, but then suddenly dropped it as though he had burned himself.

"Empty!" he screamed, his anger terrible to behold.  "You ate his soul yourself!"

Brimming with an incredible rage, Malnemar charged at me with murder on his mind or indeed, worse, for he no doubt intended to use my soul to fulfill his dark ambitions.  I braced myself for the onslaught, but the armoured form of Paladin leapt to intercept him.  After all, he'd been brought here to arrest me for Lucien's murder and he couldn't do that if I was dead.

Denied his true target, Malnemar screamed obscenities at the huge wolf and tried to beat him off.  Still screaming, he formed a fist with his tentacles and attempted to push the lieutenant out of his path.

As he did so, Paladin's wings shot out - a spectacle completely ignored by the two guards that had silently entered the room to help make the arrest.

"Did ye really think I'd bring Beings to capture Johan Cross?" he sneered.  "Say hello to second squad, first platoon, A company of the Royal Guards' Commandos!"  With this, his troopers unfurled their wings and shifted forms to reveal armour and weapons like those of the lieutenant.

Growling, Malnemar came on, desperate to close on me.  Using his own wings to block the attack, Paladin buried his right fist in the other's gut, lifting him from the floor, sliding him on his back, and finally into the wall.

Shaking his head in anger the Alsatian incubus bared his teeth.  "You first... then him!" he snarled, pointing at Paladin and myself in turn.  Wing tentacles sharp and pointed, Mal shot at Pal striking at the other incubus.  The few hits that made it through did not even mark the armour of the commando.

Smiling, Pal launched his counterattack, another fist - this time his left - arcing in and smashing the arm Mal had put up to block it into his own forehead.  Giving no respite to his foe, he jabbed again and again each hit breaking though Mal's defense until he fell back out of reach.  Malnemar was good at many things but combat, it seemed, was not among them.

"Is that all ye got, boy?" said Pal, making a sort of "tsch" noise.  "Even one of my rookies have more fight in 'em!"
Malnemar was sure that Pal was toying with him, so incensed, he flew at the wolf with no defense.

Accepting the hits, Paladin stepped in close and kneed Mal in the groin.  Groaning in pain Malnemar bent over and tried to catch his breath, opening his eyes he was just in time to see the armoured gauntlet arc up and connect with his jaw.

The limp body connected with the wall for a second time, and slid to the floor in a heap.

"Jakob Pettersohn," said Paladin, as the unconscious dog was carried away by his men, "I must arrest ye on suspicion of the soul-murder of Lucien Small."

"Are you sure?" I asked, and turned to face the Angel, who was still lying propped against the wall.

"Arise and walk, my son!" I called.  He did.

[Paladin Sheppard]

No probs JP 

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

"arise and walk" bweeeheeheee :-]

[Tapewolf]

"arise and walk" bweeeheeheee :-]

I think my favourite line in this one is "a few sandwiches short of apotheosis".

For those who are wondering, the laws against creating new lifeforms or raising the dead are a relatively recent thing, the result of the mass-raising.  This hasn't happened yet in the CJP timeline.  I'm not entirely sure how that effects the Future History series, though.  But if the laws haven't been repealed in the intervening 150 years, I'm going to assume Jakob has a very good lawyer. 

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

For those who are wondering, the laws against creating new lifeforms or raising the dead are a relatively recent thing, the result of the mass-raising.  This hasn't happened yet in the CJP timeline.  I'm not entirely sure how that effects the Future History series, though.  But if the laws haven't been repealed in the intervening 150 years, I'm going to assume Jakob has a very good lawyer. 

Vampire, of course? :-]

[Tapewolf]

the disciples chanted "Oo-Rei-Aar" and gyrated, twisting their bodies and limbs into occult gestures.
Acutely aware that I was the only one without a white shirt, and that I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing, I glanced at Petter and copied his gestures awkwardly.

I later discovered that the gestures were practice for twirling glow rods at a rave and the Oo-Rei-Aar sounds were Techno music...

In 2003 when I took the notes that made up this story, I used to do Tae Kwon Do.  If you've done it, you'll probably guess what's coming.
The instructor would stand us in a row in white shirts, chanting and gyrating.  This, I think, is where it all came from, with the notable exception that my dream twisted it into some kind of evil occult ceremony.

[Tapewolf]

Chapter 28

Izak and I walked through the outskirts of the town.  We had both concealed our headwings, for there were still many places where an incubus could not go in safety.  Over the next few decades this would change, at least in some parts, but the time was not yet upon us.

In the meantime, we were dressed as Beings, at least for the trip.  I cut a tall, menacing figure in my Johan Cross trenchcoat, a crossbow dangling at my waist.  I only usually wore this coat at Hallows-Eve parties, but since it was woven with a thin layer of kevlar it seemed to me a good choice.  It was not just the legends of Johan Cross, but the fact that others took me for an assassin that kept others away from me.

Izak was dressed as a more traditional adventurer, his armour light so as not to restrict his movements.  The bracers he wore completed the effect although they were not so much for protection as to conceal the mark of Daryil Clan that would otherwise have screamed "I AM A 'CUBI!" in glowing runic symbols.

Finally we came to the cliffside we had been looking for, and set up the recorder.  I left the crossbow with Izak's pile of belongings, but the coat had my notes in it, so after a final scan through them I left it just off-shot and stood in front of the camera.

"Today we are coming to you from Sandiria gorge, where among the cliffs we can find the nesting-place of the brown hate-eagle.  This remarkable bird is one of the only feral animals which has the ability to feed entirely on emotions.

"As with most raptors, their behaviour is defined by their feeding habits.  Indeed, outside of breeding season, the osprey needs to catch only about three fish a day and is happy to spend the rest of the day idle, so you might think that the hate-eagle, requiring only noncorporeal sustenance, spends most of its time sitting around as well.  However, this is not the case."

I paused to recover my breath.  I was going to cut into footage of the eagles around this point, so editing this out was no problem as I wouldn't have to worry about keeping the video in sync.

"As you can see, the hate-eagle spends a great proportion of its time hunting, but unlike a conventional predator they do not actually catch their prey.  Instead, the bird will molest them, threatening them and any chicks in particular, thereby invoking feelings of fear and anger in the parents.  It is this which the eagle feeds upon.

"The sole exception to this remarkable behaviour is during the early breeding season when they will resort to catching physical prey in order to bring food for the chicks.  As the chicks grow, the parents will start to bring live prey which they will kill in the nest, allowing their young to feed upon their pain  and terror.

"The chicks we see here have reached the juvenile stage, and the parents will actually carry their own chicks in their talons, bringing them to the prey so that they can feed on the fear of the attacks.

"By the time they are sub-adults, the..."  I trailed off.  Izak looked at me strangely since he hadn't seen the newcomer.  They were waiting out-of shot, but I had heard them approach.  I spun around and saw a familiar face.  Paladin!

Oh shit, I thought.  What does he want?

"I guess you'd better film the eagles, Izak," I said.  "We can add the rest of the commentary later in ADR." Assuming I get out of this.  "Now, Lieutenant... what can I do for you?  And may I ask what became of Malnemar?"

"The Being delegate called for the death penalty on behalf of all the Being souls he had eaten," Paladin replied.  "The Angel delegate agreed after Lucien testified that Mal had murdered him and tried to eat his soul as well.  Mal had good lawyers though and managed to have the sentence commuted, so they did the next best thing and cursed him back to Being level."

This was rare - a combination of spells had been woven that restrained all his 'cubi powers.  It would probably give him the same lifespan as a Being too, unless the council decided at some point in the future that he had paid his debt to society and had the spells negated.
Assuming of course that Malnemar hadn't take his own life first, as the jump down from near tri-wing power to Being status might make death seem preferable.

"I am looking for Johan Cross," he said.  "It turned out Malnemar wasn't him after all, but he named you as a likely candidate.  So I must ask ye to accompany me to the Council."

"Damn," I said.  "Very well.  Just let me get my coat."

Putting it on, I turned around to where Izak was, only to see a blur of movement as a panther sprang from the trees, tackling him to the ground and holding a gun to his head.

"Where is Johan Cross?" he demanded.

"Don't... know... who... you... mean..." Izak choked.  Indeed, his long stay at the Academy had meant he'd missed all the excitement.  He didn't know about my wicked past and I had put off telling him.

"Pull the other one," he said.  "I have reliable information that he's a grey wolf incubus.  He could easily be you, in fact!"

"Hands up," roared Paladin, backing up and aiming a shortbow at the panther.  Startled, he turned, only to see Paladin who had apparently arrested another wolf - one dressed in a black trenchcoat and looking even more like Johan Cross was rumoured to than his own captive.  With a roar, he threw Izak to the ground and lunged at the warrior.

"The bounty on Cross is mine," yelled the panther and made to shoot Paladin in the head.  The wolf had been expecting that and opened fire with his bow, striking his enemy's gun and ruining his aim.  The shot went wide, missing the wolf's head and striking his armour.  The shot glanced off but it cost Pal his balance and stumbling, he toppled over the edge of the cliff.

With a mixture of horror and fury I leapt at the bounty hunter, dragging him to the ground and trying to remove his gun.  Izak was still in a state of shock, but he slowly came to and tried to help.  Not that he was much use, having given himself over to more intellectual pursuits than brute violence.

My big break came a few moments later when there was a heavy thump behind us, the sound of something very large falling to the ground.  It distracted the hunter long enough for me to punch him in the solar plexus.  Only then could I glance at the object which had made the thump... Lieutenant Sheppard.

Paladin could glide, but from the sound of it he had slammed into the cliff-face as he'd fallen over.  Unable to save himself, he had summoned his Warp-Aci but being teleported hadn't absorbed his momentum and he had fallen heavily into the ground.  His armour had taken most of the impact but it had not done him any good at all and he lay there, either winded or unconscious.  I couldn't tell which, but there was a trickle of blood from his muzzle, so at least he was still alive.
Izak ran to help him, leaving me alone with the feline who was already beginning to recover.

Turning back to face him, I found myself looking down the barrel of his gun.  Earth import.  Nasty.

"Foolish," he sneered.  "I know who you are, Mr. Cross, and there's a bounty on your head like you wouldn't believe.  I'll never have to work again after this."

This could have been a very bad situation, but my attack had given him one critical disadvantage - his mind-shield was still down.  Peering at the parts of his mind I could easily reach, I saw that he had quite a detailed knowledge of my recent past - too detailed for my comfort, in fact.  This very knowledge would help me greatly though so I made my move.

Somehow his gun was in my hand.  Or was it his gun?  No, that was on the floor beneath my foot.  This was a far more powerful weapon and I had drawn it from the pocket in my trenchcoat.

"So... you want to know about Johan Cross, do you?" I said, my eyes narrowing and my lips curling once more into the trademark sneer of centuries past.  "I have half a mind to tell you.  But know that you are not the first to come hunting him.  Better men than you lie dead or soulless... are you certain you wish to join them?"

I was only half-bluffing.  Much as I detested murder, if by taking the cat's life I could be free of my past, it might be worth the stain on my already bloodied conscience.  Besides which, I realised, I probably wouldn't even have to kill the feline.  Simply erasing the relevant parts of my enemies' mind and soul would keep the secret just as effectively - it would then only be a matter of dealing with Paladin and from a purely magical viewpoint he didn't seem to be a particularly skilled incubus.

The bounty hunter's fear was deliciously cold and it flavoured all his thoughts.
His mind kept going round and round in panic.  They told me he hates guns... won't be armed... should be a pushover, just kill him and go... just a lie to put his enemies off guard... now he's gonna kill me and eat my soul...
I glanced briefly over at Paladin, who was just about able to sit up again.

"You know, the bounty-hunter thing cuts both ways," I said happily, as if I was greeting a long-lost friend.  One of my tentacles appeared and I banished its head, sharpening it to a razor edge.  It was hovering above his face.

"Such lovely fur," I crooned, stroking his wrist.  "Xe'Pherion City will pay a handsome reward for your pelt, especially when the lieutenant of the royal guards testifies that you tried to kill him.  Just be grateful that I'm not quite so cruel as to remove it while you're still alive.
I'll even make it nice and quick for you.  After all, as they say... live by the gun, die by the gun."

I'm gonna have one hell of a guilt trip in the morning, I thought, and aiming between his eyes, pulled the trigger.  At this distance I couldn't miss... there was a loud retort and a splash of red.

It took the feline more than fifteen seconds to realise that he wasn't dead, but when he finally snapped out of it his face became a mask of fury as he wiped the remains of the paintball from his forehead.

For my part I had miscalculated how angry it would make him, and he leapt at me, sword flashing from its sheath.  Seconds later I was pinned to the ground, a scream of pain tearing from my lips as the blade sliced into my left headwings as they fanned out in surprise.

"How's this for fear?" he said.  "The next one will be for real."  I gave another cry as he drew the blade out to make the kill, only to have it knocked from his grasp by a metallic blur that resolved into a wicked-looking throwing dagger.

Looking in the direction from whence the blade had come, the pair of us were in just in time to catch another blur of motion as Paladin shoulder-charged the enraged cat.

Bouncing to a stop, the feline rolled back to his feet smoothly and faced this strange wolf.  In Paladin's hands was a large, two-handed axe that he had kept strapped to his back.

"Surrender!  Ye have no chance." Paladin slurred from a broken jaw.  The feline growled and then launched an attack, aiming at the wolf's legs.

Spinning the large axe far faster than seemed possible, Paladin blocked the attack.  Amazed, the feline stepped back just in time for Paladin's own attack to nick his left arm.  He gave an almost kitten-like mewl of pain before hopping back and swinging at the wolf again.

This time it was Paladin's turn to step back, but not before he had placed another wound, to the jaguar's leg this time.
Bleeding from a number of deep cuts, the feline's confidence had been gradually ebbing away.  By now he knew that he was going to lose this fight and his priorities had changed accordingly.  It was no longer a matter of capturing or killing Johan Cross, it had become more a matter of ensuring his own survival.

Shapeshifting my injured headwings away, I hunkered down, keeping my distance from the two of them.  I could have fled, but that would have left Izak in an exposed position.  If the feline somehow won, Izak would have made a fine hostage, or worse, he could be murdered and presented as Johan Cross to claim the bounty.  I wasn't entirely sure of Paladin's morals either, come to that.

Suddenly the shaft of the armoured wolf's axe slammed into the side of the feline's head and he slumped over.  I raced over to where he lay and pressed my hand against his forehead.


The feline came to muzzily and sat up, reaching for his gun.  He aimed at me but then dropped it with a gasp of agony and collapsed as Paladin's arrow embedded itself in his back.  Horrified, I held him in my arms, stroking his head gently as he died.
"No, no, no," I said, tears filling my eyes.  "It wasn't supposed to be like this!  What did you have to go and kill him for?"
The hunter was overcome with a sense of bewilderment that of all people, Johan Cross would weep for him.  Then everything went dark.



The feline came to muzzily and sat up, reaching for his gun.  Then he hesitated.
"Good choice," I said, slicing through it with one of my tentacles.  "I like Beings, and it makes me very sad when they die."  He looked at me, his face filled with confusion and terror.

"That was a dream," I said.  "But something very much like it will become reality unless you choose very wisely."

The feline leaned back to look behind himself.  Paladin was covering him with the shortbow.  He gulped, all pride and self-esteem fled, a pale, broken shadow of the cocky jaguar who thought he could claim a bounty on Johan Cross.

"Let him go," I told the wolf.  "He knows he's out of his depth.  If you want to take me to the council, let him go this time and I'll come quietly.  Kill him and there will be hell to pay."
Indeed, I'd have him up before the Council for killing an unarmed Being.

Paladin looked furious but he lowered the bow.  The feline hesitated only for a moment and then turned tail, stumbling off in the direction of the town.


"Well, this is the second time you've saved me," I said to Paladin, "although I get the feeling it's more out of business than pleasure."

"Indeed," he slurred, still angry that the feline had escaped.  "And now ye must come with me.  The council awaits."


Xe'Pherion City was created by Azlan.  Used with permission.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

There's a certain amount of, probably desired, confusion in the middle there.

Lots of people leaping back and forth and things going completely out of control.


Fun, though.

[Tapewolf]

There's a certain amount of, probably desired, confusion in the middle there.
Lots of people leaping back and forth and things going completely out of control.

Fun, though.

I must admit I wasn't completely happy with this one.  It was made up of several chunks and they didn't fit together quite as well as I'd hoped.  Thanks again to Pal for helping with the fight sequence.

**EDIT**
Polished it up.  Thanks to Llearch for his critique.

One of the things which annoyed me most about this one was that Amber suddenly did the clanmark-under-bracers thing after I'd hit on it, which makes it look rather like I copied the idea instead of coming up with it independently

[Gabi]

Sorry for the delay. What can I say? The eagles must have had a feast.

[Tapewolf]

Chapter 30 is working out nicely but chapter 29 is giving me grief.  So unless a miracle happens I'll probably be updating Future History instead.  (Which will have a familiar face)