The Clockwork Mansion

chapter 1, chapter 2 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg17870#msg17870), chapter 3 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg22860#msg22860), chapter 4 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg24985#msg24985), chapter 5 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg24986#msg24986)

chapter 6 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg34345#msg34345), chapter 7 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg43514#msg43514), chapter 8 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg49157#msg49157), chapter 9 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg53111#msg53111), chapter 10 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg55003#msg55003)

chapter 11 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg55823#msg55823), chapter 12 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg57368#msg57368), chapter 13 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg59627#msg59627), chapter 14 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg61370#msg61370), chapter 15 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg61882#msg61882)

chapter 16 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg69507#msg69507), chapter 17 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg72339#msg72339), chapter 18 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg75040#msg75040), chapter 19 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg79012#msg79012), chapter 20 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg83154#msg83154)

chapter 21 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg87201#msg87201), chapter 22 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg89145#msg89145), chapter 23 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg94082#msg94082), chapter 24 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg98951#msg98951), chapter 25 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg101168#msg101168)

chapter 26 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg105147#msg105147), chapter 27 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg109599#msg109599), chapter 28 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg113945#msg113945), chapter 29 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg122107#msg122107), chapter 30 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg127505#msg127505)

Chapter 31 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg132571#msg132571), Chapter 32 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg138521#msg138521), Chapter 33 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg142532#msg142532), Chapter 34 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg147793#msg147793), Chapter 35 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=691.msg153543#msg153543)

Chapter 36 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,691.msg161041.html#msg161041), Chapter 37 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,691.msg177541.html#msg177541), Chapter 38, (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,691.msg183413.html#msg183413), Chapter 39 (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php/topic,691.msg194906.html#msg194906)

For the first chapter, read on.

Note - the series has now concluded.  Chronologically, the next in the series is Gareeku's Furrae Chronicles story.
You may also be interested to know that the series is being re-run on Deviant Art, with a number of updates and plot-hole fixes.  http://tapewolf.deviantart.com

See also the futuristic sequel, The Future History of Jakob Pettersohn (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=2274.0)

**END EDIT**

---

Okay, here we go.  I was hoping to wait until I'd written at least three chapters, but what the hell.

Couple of points first - I don't do this much, and most of what I have written was edited and improved by Gareeku in the Furrae Chronicles, so this may feel a little rough by comparison.  Suggestions are welcome.
There's a few rough edges to it - Chapter 1 is first person, and Chapter 2 is third person, but I'll sort something out.  Most likely I'll convert chapter 2.

Anyway, this is a tale of the early adulthood for Jakob Pettersohn, a wolf incubus.  It is set about 875 years before the events of DMFA.

---

Chapter 1


My father was Petter Josefsohn.  He disappeared when I was about five.  Dead, my mother told me, but she would never talk about it.  In other respects my life was not unusual.. I grew up on a small family-owned farm in the middle of a forest.  We would often make journeys into the nearby town to sell our spare produce and visit the church - something my mother, Dulcinia, insisted we do every week although I can't say I really enjoyed it.

My brother and I were encouraged to learn to read so that we could benefit from the collection of books my father had amassed.  Many of these dealt with magic, and my brother and I quickly discovered we were quite adept at it.

Eventually, my brother left home to study in one of the nearby cities, while I stayed on to help run the farm.  I was happy enough, at least to begin with.  But when I turned 26, my life took a sudden change for the worse.

After a particularly moving service at church one day, I developed a series of chronic headaches, much to my mother's distress and mine as well.  From her reactions, I began to suspect that my father had died of a brain sickness and that I would soon follow.  Nonetheless, with my brother studying and my father dead, it fell to me to help her manage the farm and I was determined to do so for as long as I was able.

One night I had a dream which ended with my being shot in the back of the head by a band of murderers.  I awoke with a scream but the pain was real, although it faded quite quickly.  Feeling the back of my head, where the crossbow bolts would have entered my brain, I discovered a small pair of feathered wings.
Hearing my cries, my mother entered the room and found me like this, sitting half-naked before the mirror, and she began sobbing anew.  I just sat there, staring at my reflection in shock, convinced that it was a hallucination caused by my dying brain.

When the following morning I awoke, the little wings were still there, minute copies of the ones I had always had on my back, and I began to accept that they were real.  My mother however was in no fit state to tell me what this meant although she seemed to have realised that the time had come to explain the manner of my father's demise.

That evening I went into the forest to gather firewood, shivering at the eerie feeling as the breeze ruffled the new feathers upon my head.  As I was about to leave, I was suddenly attacked by a group of shadowed figures.

For a while I was convinced that the dream of my murder had been a premonition, and so I fought back like one possessed.  Fireballs and other offensive spells whizzed through the air damaging trees and scorching the earth.  Whatever else happened, I had made up my mind that I was going to leave evidence of my struggle so my mother might know what had happened.  Finally a tall, shadowed canine figure came out of the woods and caught me with a stun spell.
I suddenly remembered the beating my mother had given Izak for casting one on me years ago, just before everything went black.

I awoke to find myself back in bed.  Taking stock of my last memories I knew it was no dream because there was a burn on my left arm from the battle in the forest, now bandaged.  Wandering out of my room to try and find my mother, I noted that although it was around noon, all the windows were shut.

She wasn't in the house.  Perhaps she'd gone to fetch a doctor or something.  I opened one of the shutters and my stomach turned cold.  Out of the window was not the familiar scene of our quiet farm in the forest, but a long drop onto flagstones.  The house was at least five stories in the air.

Trying the front door, I opened it to find that it now lead onto a landing - it seemed that my house was now inside an apartment block.  Most interesting.
Now I had seen these before, as my brother was living in one.  Generally they were only found in the largest cities as it took a great deal of magic to pump the water and coal gas.  As a rule I never really liked cities myself, but I could definitely see the advantages.  For one, coal gas was so much more convenient to cook with than the wood-fired range we had back at home.

Looking around the house again I noticed a number of rather odd things... my mother's bed, for instance, had never been slept in.  The decor on the walls was new and untarnished, and only some of my possessions were actually here.  It became pretty obvious that this was not my house at all, but a cleverly-built replica of it.
Studying the range I found that like the rest of the house, it was only superficially similar to the original.  It was in actual fact gas-fired... whoever had done this obviously intended me to live here for quite some time.

The initial shock had worn off, but I was naturally rather concerned.  Where was I?  Who had brought me here?  What did they want with me and why had they put so much effort into getting it?  Suddenly I remembered that the shadowy figure had had wings on her head too - so had her minions come to that.  But what did it all mean?

I left the apartment to try and get some answers, but I didn't get far.  There was not a soul around... the other apartments were empty although one of them was filled with preserved food, apparently intended for my use.  On the landing was a bin marked with my flat number.  I ignored this, and heading down the stairs gave a sudden yelp of pain - it felt exactly like I'd walked into a brick wall.
Rubbing my injured muzzle, I prodded the air before me tentatively, and found it solid and unyielding.  Looking up at the ceiling, I noticed a faintly glowing rune.. apparently a ward to prevent me leaving.

My mind was starting to sag now.. too many strange things had hit me all at once and I was rapidly beginning to lose my grip on reality.  As a compromise I decided to treat it like the headwings... sleep on it and hope that everything would revert to normal when I woke - perhaps I was really still lying in the forest in some kind of concussion.

Unfortunately I was not.

Over the next few days I ate, slept, read and waited patiently for someone to arrive and explain what they wanted.  Sadly this never happened.  Often I heard noises in the night, and several times I saw nervous Beings, sent to replenish the food stocks and keep the other apartments clean.
As soon as they saw me they would run to the stairs, which they were permitted to enter even though I was not.  One day I decided to set a trap and managed to chase the man into a tripwire which I had set around the other side of the block.
Yet even when I'd caught him, he remained mute no matter how I pleaded or threatened him.  Eventually a stun spell took me from behind and when I came to, he was gone.


Realising I was trapped, I began a frantic series of escape attempts.  I began with fairly simple tricks, a ropeladder made from bedsheets for example, or climbing out of the window and around the outside of the building to reach the fire-escape.  Each time I was caught by a stun spell and awoke on my bed once more.

As time went by my attempts became ever more elaborate.  On one occasion I even dug through the floor into the rooms beneath.  Getting off that floor of the building wasn't exactly easy, but on the other hand it wasn't the worst problem either.

Once I got out, I had to evade the guards or else I'd soon find myself stunned again and waking up in bed with a throbbing head.  This happened many, many times and although they always caught me in the end, it did allow me to explore somewhat and build a map of the complex in my head.
It was a shame my mother had confiscated the book Izak had learned 'stun' from - I'd never had time to get the hang of it myself.  More importantly, the book might well have had a counter-spell.

After five or six months, I finally decided it was time for drastic action.

Acting casually I visited one of the other apartments, and examined the stove.  As I turned to go, my hand brushed one of the controls as I left, surreptitiously turning on the gas.  Shutting the door behind me, I walked back down the corridor, and sat lazily by one of the walls.   Five minutes later, I spun round and ignited it with a fireball spell, ducking behind the corridor to shield myself.
It blew the room clean out the side of the building and brought the floors above crashing down on top of it.

In the chaos that ensued I was able to slip past the guards, but even that didn't help so much.  I had no real idea where I was, and the grounds of the complex, extensive though they were, were isolated by some kind of magical barrier, something more powerful than a ward.  I remained free for about three days before a shadowy figure appeared on the edge of my campfire, dressed all in pink and with white wings upon her back and head.
I immediately realised that it was the same person who had stunned me that evening in the forest all those months ago.  She was in fact none other than Fa'lina, the much-feared headmistress of the S&I Academy, known to most as 'SAIA', although I didn't know this at the time.

At length Fa'lina told me that she was rather impressed by my efforts.  As a matter of fact I had actually done something that she had not foreseen, a rare thing indeed.
Getting straight to the point, she offered me the chance to hone my skills at her academy of magic.  I declined.  Why should I trust someone who had imprisoned me for half a year, after all?  But she had foreseen that reply.

It was then that she told me what I had been wondering ever since that night we first met.  The wings upon my back.. the magical skills.. these were all signs of something that Izak and I would have recognised had we only known what it meant.
We were not, as we had guessed, some rare hybrid of wolf and phoenix.. we were demons, and the wings upon my head were the the mark of an incubus.

How clearly I remember that feeling.. I guess we all do, those of us who were never told of our heritage.  So many fantastic possibilities were suddenly opened up before me.
I could stay young for nearly three thousand years... or longer still if I was willing to pay the price.  I would never need to sleep or eat again, being able to feed myself instead on the emotions of nearby Beings.  Indeed, I had been feeding unknowingly upon the emotions of the church congregations and it was that accumulation of energy which had resulted in my headwings - all 'cubi grew these when their store of surplus energy reached a certain level*.

I would also be able to change my shape and disguise myself as anyone I wished, read minds, enter other people's dreams and, if I so desired, steal souls.
These possibilities excited me, yet my enthusiasm was still tempered by the way she had treated me.  I was not yet convinced and I told her that I would learn all these things by myself, in my own time.

Fa'lina had apparently foreseen this too as she changed tactic yet again.  She warned me that the world was not yet safe for our kind, that too many Beings hated and feared us for our powers, that they believed we lived only to eat their souls and that they would try to hunt us and kill us.
Furthermore she explained that her Academy was one of the few places where a young Creature would be safe from adventurers.  While this was reasonable enough, the way it was told sounded far too much like patter to me.

"Very well," she said, "I foresaw this might happen.  If I cannot convince you myself, let me introduce you to someone who can."

As I stood there, Fa'lina beckoned to someone I hadn't noticed and a handsome wolf incubus who had been lurking in the darkness strode out into the light of my campfire.  He looked very, very familiar.

"Izak..?"  I asked, astonished.
"No," he replied with a grin.  "Close enough, though.  It's been a long time, Yak.  Last time we met, you called me 'Daddy!'"

Fa'lina had kidnapped him as soon as his own headwings had blossomed.  He didn't look a day older than me.

---

*Incubi and succubi develop a pair of wings on the back of their head as they reach adulthood.  It is rumoured that by gaining a sufficiently large amount of power they may gain a third pair of wings, but no credible witnesses have ever been able to confirm this.

Nice!  >:3

Thanks for including the date reference.

Looks good sofar JP.

Quote from: Paladin Sheppard on July 25, 2006, 09:46:25 PM
Looks good sofar JP.

Thanks.  The basic concept came from a comment of Zedd's in the 'Father's Day' thread... it made me wonder what might happen if a 'cubi is dragged off to SAIA when they already have kids.  I very nearly asked Amber, but then decided it might make a good short story.
I must admit the apartment sequence was somewhat inspired by The Prisoner, but I'm sure you recognised it anyway :)

Chapter 2 is only about half as long, and doesn't really have a good hook yet.  But I'll work on it and publish when it's ready.

**EDIT** - made a few slight changes to tighten it up, and explain why Jakob can't use the stun spells.

Enjoyable story  :mowsmile Nice job.

A good read, if the following chapters are even nearly as good this'll most certainly be worth following.

Sure Fa'Lina probaly has good enough intentions, but just taking someone one away isn't the best way to gain trust.
Looks good so far. If it were in third person, like chapter 2 would be, it seems like it would read similar to a book I'm going through (one of the few I'd ever be willing to read). :januscat

Very enjoyable first chapters. That's totally like Fa'lina... tactless. xD But let's look on the bright side-- at least Jakob's wings haven't tried to make him coffee yet.

Oh! Got some insight on your character now! Oh, and good work!

Chapter 2

I had been at SAIA for about two years when I was suddenly called to the headmistress's office.  Naturally I was rather nervous, since as far as I was aware there was nothing I had done wrong, but Fa'Lina could be unpredictable so there was no telling.

"Come in, Jakob.  Sit down," she said, offering a tray of 'plan B'*.  "How are you settling in at SAIA?" she asked.
"Quite well, I think," I replied, "although I obviously have a long way to go yet." I paused, wondering how best to ask the question.

"Fa'Lina," I said, nervously at first but slowly gaining confidence, "when you came to take me to SAIA, you did so by force.  Why was that?  At first, I assumed that everyone was taken in that manner, but I now know that isn't the case.  That is, if you don't mind my asking.."

"That's not a problem, Jakob," she said. "Questions are the only way to learn, after all.  You are quite right.. most of my students apply of their own free will, having already been told what they are and what the academy can offer them by their parents.

"With orphans, or other cases where a 'cubi's parents can't or won't tell them it is a lot harder.  Some of my pupils still believe they are Beings at the point where I or my deputies intercept them.  It's not the first time when a student of mine has simply vanished and been presumed murdered by bandits or demons.

"Before you say it, I'm well aware it's my fault your father couldn't fill you in on your destiny, but I had assumed your mother would be able to do so in his stead.  I had not seriously considered the possibility that she might withdraw into herself like that.  As you may know, my powers of prescience are considerably stronger within the Academy than they are outside of it."

"And the apartment you trapped me in for half a year?" I asked, somewhat pointedly.
"It was an experiment," Fa'Lina said. "I was looking at new ways to deal with students who do not know their heritage.  And to be brutally honest, I found it amusing to watch you try and escape.  One of the things I was going to do was gradually reduce your food supply to wean you onto the emotions of Beings and 'cubi placed in the other floors, but you demolished half the building before I could do that." She chuckled slightly.

"Needless to say, I won't be trying that experiment again any time soon.  But anyway, that's not why I sent for you.
As you may be aware, your brother is finally ready to join you and your father."
"Izak!?!  He's here??", I blurted, near-incoherent in my eagerness.
"Yes.  Your father, though only 54, has gained sufficient skill in concealment to extract your brother.  So I sent him to the University at Ka'Ryep where your brother has just graduated.  Since Petter is due to be tested himself on this course, I decided to send his examiner along with him and make it a practical exam.  I am pleased to tell you that he has passed."

"Typical," I said with a wry grin.  "Izak always was the lucky one.  I bet he doesn't have to be imprisoned for five-and-a-half months!"
"No," said Fa'Lina, looking more serious, "but don't think your brother had an easy ride.  Unlike you, living as you did in the middle of a forest and only occasionally going to market or church, Izak lived in a city, remember.  The Beings there had started to realise that he was an Incubus.  His mark+ had just appeared, you see, and they were about to kill him.  I think we pulled him out just in time."

"May I see him?" I asked.
"Indeed.  Fi?" she said, and her small, black Warp-Aci teleported us to another part of the complex.  Showoff, I thought, since we had only actually gone about thirty metres down the corridor.  To my embarrassment I heard Fa'Lina sniggering softly to herself, as I was still too inexperienced to shield my thoughts from her at that stage.  "Don't worry, it will come soon enough." she said.  "Are you ready to go in?"

We opened the door, and I saw Izak, half-standing, evidently startled out of his chair by our opening the door.  It was something of a shock to see the normally calm and self-assured Izak like this.  His eyes had a haunted look that told of disbelief and betrayal by those he thought were his friends, and a copious amount of blood had matted the fur all down his left arm.  My father was still busy healing him.

The intricate design of our clan marking almost shone on his right wrist, and he would occasionally glance at it with a mixture of awe and horror.  Mine was on my left thigh, where it was not usually noticeable by others.

Suddenly his eyes locked on mine, and I realised with a start that at least some of Izak's terror was caused by me.  "Jakob..?" he croaked, "Your head! What have they done to you..?"
I didn't understand what he meant at first, having grown accustomed by now to my headwings, until I suddenly noticed that my father had concealed his, and Izak didn't seem to have any.

"Don't worry, Izak," I told him.  "I'm fine, I promise.  Fa'Lina, why doesn't Izak have any headwings?  I had mine by that age."
"It depends on the individual, Jakob." she replied in a subdued voice, and I could see that Izak's plight had pierced her usually frivolous demeanor.  This truly was why she had founded the school, to protect young 'cubi from those who tried to destroy what they didn't understand.

"Sometimes the wings appear before the clan marking," she continued, "sometimes afterwards.  They are a physical manifestation of a 'cubi's reserves of magical power, and the more active a spellcaster the 'cubi is, the more power they will use and the longer it will take for their reserves to reach the point where the wings can manifest themselves.

"In such times as we have to take a 'cubi into the academy before their headwings have unfurled, it doesn't usually take long for this to happen.  And I sense that he is quite close to that point already."

"'Cubi?" said Izak, despair evident in his voice, "you mean what they said was true?  I really am a monster?"  My father paused from his task and spoke up.  "Calm down, Zak," he said.  "Yes, it's true that we are demons.  But you always were a demon, even if you didn't know it before.  It doesn't mean that you've changed.  Besides, being born a demon won't make you a monster by itself - that can only happen if you consciously choose to be a monster.  And believe me, enough Beings have gone down that road themselves."

"Petter is right," said Fa'Lina.  "There is more to being a 'cubi than evil deeds.  We feed on a wide range of emotions.  There are clans who specialise in joy, amazement, and so forth.  Many become actors, feeding off the emotion their performances induce in the audience.  Jakob drew his power from Church services.  There are other types of course, and you will learn about these in due time."
I noted that she had carefully omitted the fact that many 'cubi were sick bastards who fed by killing Beings for their pain and terror and maybe stealing their souls into the bargain as well, but I wasn't about to bring this up either, at least, not until Izak had recovered from his ordeal.  Even then it would have to be done gently.

"And now, we must decide what to do with Izak." Izak stiffened at Fa'Lina's words.  "Your father is somewhat busy with his courses, I'm afraid, so I think it would be best if it fell to you, Jakob, to act as mentor to your brother and show him around, at least until he gets his feet.  That is, assuming neither of you object."  Izak seemed very relieved.

"Good!  I shall arrange a room for Izak close to yours, Jakob.  And now, if  you will come to my office, I'd like a quick word while Petter finishes off your brother's wounds."  I gave a brief wave to Izak and Petter, and Fi took us back to her office.

"There is something else I need to tell you, Jakob." she said, and something in her voice told me that it wasn't going to be easy.
"Is it about my mother?" I asked with an air of dread.  I hadn't seen her since my arrival at SAIA, and I had been feeling guilty that I hadn't tried to contact her.
"Yes.  I'm afraid she has died recently.  The shock of losing both her husband and eldest son was more than she could bear."
"What?!?" I said, not wanting to believe I was hearing.
"This will sound harsh, Jakob, but try to forget her.  She was only a Being.  She would have been dead anyway long before your course ended."

I could feel my lips curling and the hackles on my back rose.  "She was my MOTHER!" I screamed.  "She may have been mortal, but she brought me up!  She had to be both mother and father to two children, and all because of your doings!"  A part of my brain dimly wondered if I had pushed Fa'Lina over the edge, but by that point I didn't really care.  Fa'Lina however, looked at me, a faintly dreamy expression colouring her typically supernatural patience.

"Delicious," she said.  "I haven't felt such rage in this office for many a year.  But anyway.  Although I am indeed to blame for your father's disappearance, have you ever stopped to wonder why he never returned to reassure your family that he was alright?"  I looked at her, rage replaced by a mixture of sorrow and betrayal.

"I'm sorry, Jakob, I really am, but the world outside is just too dangerous for us right now.  That's why I founded the Academy, to help protect our young from adventurers.  If I had let Petter or you go galavanting off on some wild expedition to see your mother, the chances are very good that you would be killed, and I would have lost a promising student.  Look what happened to Izak, and he didn't even have headwings.

"In these times I don't usually allow my students to leave the academy until they are sufficiently skilled in illusion and concealment.  That can take up to thirty years, depending on the pupil.  Your father has only just attained that degree of skill, and as is so often the case, your mother did not live long enough to see her husband return.  Perhaps in future centuries Beings will become more tolerant of our kind and I will be able to lift these restrictions, but if it happens it will be long after you have left.

"But such is the world in which we live.  I really am truly sorry." I found I was sobbing gently.   "I can't do anything for her, " Fa'Lina added, "but I can ease your pain." so saying, she touched the side of my head, and my sorrow receded to a dull ache.

"But why didn't he write?" I asked.
"Petter doesn't have a warp-aci," she replied.  "It takes some skill to trap them.  I also get the impression he considers them to be something for girls.  I have had this conversation with him as well this morning, and similar conversations with most of my pupils at some point.  It's a sad fact of life for those who had mortal parents.  Be assured that your father is in mourning as well.  But when you think about it, your mother is probably quite angry with herself right now, realizing that her sons and husband are actually still alive, even if she isn't."

I found myself smiling at her words, and although the ache wasn't gone completely, I was near enough at peace.

"Good," said Fa'Lina with an approving smile.  "And now, I think it is time for you to return to Izak."

---

*'plan B' : muffins
+'Cubi have a distinctive marking which appears when their spellcasting ability matures.  They are unable to conceal it by shapeshifting and it is one of the few ways of identifying someone as a mature Incubus or Succubus.

Still doin' good. Even in these parts with much talking, things still progress and stay interesting.

Quote"And the apartment you trapped me in for half a year?" I asked, somewhat pointedly.  "It was an experiment.  I was looking at new ways to deal with students who do not know their heritage.  And to be brutally honest, I found it amusing to watch you try and escape.  One of the things I was going to do was gradually reduce your food supply to wean you onto the emotions of Beings and 'cubi placed in the other floors, but you demolished half the building before I could do that." She chuckled slightly.

A suggestion for places like the above: I was kinda confused and didn't fully realize Fa'lina was speaking until she said she was amused about Jakob trying to escape. Maybe either begin a new paragraph with the new speaker, or state that the new speaker is talking before the change. :januscat

I am going to say something that my writing teacher always annoys me to hell about. Use less phrases like "Asked hopefully", or even "replied". It's always "Said", or "Asked". Very good story, by the way. :square

Quote from: Lysander on August 05, 2006, 01:15:33 PM
Still doin' good. Even in these parts with much talking, things still progress and stay interesting.

A suggestion for places like the above: I was kinda confused and didn't fully realize Fa'lina was speaking until she said she was amused about Jakob trying to escape. Maybe either begin a new paragraph with the new speaker, or state that the new speaker is talking before the change. :januscat

Is that better?  I'll have to see about Bill's suggestion.. I'm worried it might thin the flavour out too much.  One of the things I was trying to avoid was "said", "said", "said" all over the place.  Too repetitive IMHO.  Of course you might be right - I haven't had an English class in about 15 years.

**EDIT**
Removed 'was was' from the beginning.

Hrm...
Just a few remarks about the content. I'm not familiar with most of the "fursona-insertions" (like Jakob, Gareeku and whoever else happens to run around through Gareeku's Chronicles - didn't read them [edit]also because of that reason, but mostly because I lacked the time to follow such a long and dedicated story, sadly enough - maybe later...[/edit]), so I noticed a few things others might be more forgiving about.

First of all, aside from the foreword/introduction, Jakob's species is apparently only mentioned once ("and a handsome wolf incubus strode out of the darkness"), and only indirectly and at the end of a chapter. Somewhat connected to it, I didn't notice any reference to Jakob's regular (back-)wings. Doesn't he have any? Maybe I just missed it, but the first reference to wings seems to be the headwing bit.

That's just one of the things that make this fic look a bit too much of an inside thing. Sure, it works for people who read DMFA, but things like Fa'Lina's "Plan B" are a bit far on the "inside joke" side. Yes, it can be argued how much should be explained, given that this is a DMFA-related fic. Just my thoughts on this.

Semi-related to this, I missed a few bits of interaction. Mostly when it came to Fa'Lina and Petter. The two-year time-jump sorta took that away. I understand that, like Abel's Story, you will have to skip years a lot, but it still left me a bit hanging when you went from "shocked and confused" to "settled in".

<nitpick>
One thing about the style, coming from a site I once browsed because I once also considered writing a first-person fic:

QuoteThe trick is to eliminate most of those nasty "I" words that sneak into your prose unnoticed. Just because the story is being told in first person, does not forgive starting every (or every other) sentence with "I". The alternatives are endless.

Each time you start a sentence with "I", cross it out in red, circle it, or underline it. Do this every time "I" appears on the page. You will quickly tire of this no-win game. (Here's your new mantra: nasty, nasty, nasty!)

</nitpick>

Okay, crap. I only listed nitpicks and stuff like that. Please don't get me wrong, I really enjoyed reading the two chapters and I might very well read the following ones. They're well-written, and it's quite interesting to see your take on the DMFA setting and characters like Fa'Lina. Just because I'm not the type of guy who fills three paragraphs with repetitive praise doesn't mean that this fic isn't praise-worthy. 'cuz, you know... it is. A lot :) Please keep it up!

The following stuff is mostly "in general" rambling and does not directly apply to or criticize the fic.

About the "Only say or ask" issue... megh. I'm somewhat split there. On the one hand, it always feels odd when an author goes through the entire thesaurus (When I have to actually consult a dictionary to find out what's going on, the fun ends.) but overuse of ONLY those two words should be avoided. This is not a police report, so we can afford a certain trade-off between style and pure efficiency. This especially applies since the simple "say" (without adverbs or other qualifiers) is not always sufficient to cover the entire spectrum of expressions (IMHO). In a regular conversation (without mood shifts or stuff like that), "say" can be enough. Just keep in mind that these constructs often have the single purpose of identifying the speaker. And that can be done by other (often subtle) means, too. So it's possible to mostly use "say" without becoming overly repetitive.

Related to the issue of "verb + adverb": I'm not a major fan of wordiness or flowery language, but adverbs have their place, even though many "verb + adverb" combinations can (and should) be replaced by a single, strong verb. So "walk nervously" could become "pace", "go quickly" could become "run", and so on. So "asked hopefully" would be perfectly valid unless you know a better strong verb. It identifies the speaker and gives more information on the way the question was asked. (Applying to the fic, I would question it, though. Mostly because Fa'Lina's starting mood seems to imply that she is about to talk about something non-positive. So asking her if it's about my mother would fill me with dread, not hope.)

Disclaimer: I have not visited any writing classes. In fact, English isn't even my native language. So I hardly qualify as an expert to say the least. The above stuff is mostly my opinion, laced with things taken from books and websites. My sources (and I) can of course be wrong, so don't slap an authority on the field of writing because "Sid said this and that", okay? ;)

Website quoted: Fiction Factor - Me, Myself and I - Writing First Person Point of View (http://www.fictionfactor.com/guests/firstpov.html)

Quote from: Sid on August 05, 2006, 03:35:37 PM
First of all, aside from the foreword/introduction, Jakob's species is apparently only mentioned once ("and a handsome wolf incubus strode out of the darkness"), and only indirectly and at the end of a chapter. Somewhat connected to it, I didn't notice any reference to Jakob's regular (back-)wings. Doesn't he have any? Maybe I just missed it, but the first reference to wings seems to be the headwing bit.

Yes, I'm aware of this.  I've actually been writing a proper introduction in an effort to make it work standalone.  You're dead on with the backwings, though.  That's covered in the full intro as well, but the problem with inserting it into the text is that I'm not completely sure how I'd make Jakob explain what he is.  In the original version he was actually reminiscing with someone, and they would be able to see his species and race at a glance.  (Also, there's a picture of him in my signature.)

Quote
That's just one of the things that make this fic look a bit too much of an inside thing. Sure, it works for people who read DMFA, but things like Fa'Lina's "Plan B" are a bit far on the "inside joke" side. Yes, it can be argued how much should be explained, given that this is a DMFA-related fic. Just my thoughts on this.

Agreed.  I was bloody sick of people saying 'and she offered a tray of muffins' all over the place.  If I re-edit this to work standalone, that's one of the things I'll remove.

Quote
Semi-related to this, I missed a few bits of interaction. Mostly when it came to Fa'Lina and Petter. The two-year time-jump sorta took that away. I understand that, like Abel's Story, you will have to skip years a lot, but it still left me a bit hanging when you went from "shocked and confused" to "settled in".

Two reasons - (A) I'm not sure what happened in the interim myself, and (B) Two years is insignificant in 'cubi timescales - an impression I've been trying to create in the text.

Quote
<nitpick>
One thing about the style, coming from a site I once browsed because I once also considered writing a first-person fic:

QuoteThe trick is to eliminate most of those nasty "I" words that sneak into your prose unnoticed. Just because the story is being told in first person, does not forgive starting every (or every other) sentence with "I". The alternatives are endless.

</nitpick>

You haven't explained the benefit of doing this >:-)  What advantage is gained from that much re-engineering?  Anyway, I wanted to write third-person originally, but I wasn't sure it would work with the first chapter.  The second one was easy to convert, but it ended up as mostly dialogues anyway.

QuoteRelated to the issue of "verb + adverb": I'm not a major fan of wordiness or flowery language, but adverbs have their place

Well I am a fan of wordiness and flowery language.  I've used this writing style for the past 8 years on some extremely popular walkthroughs and I'm not about to pack it in now ;)  OTOH, I pity the guy who wanted to translate them into Polish  :erk

Quote(Applying to the fic, I would question it, though. Mostly because Fa'Lina's starting mood seems to imply that she is about to talk about something non-positive. So asking her if it's about my mother would fill me with dread, not hope.)

Yes, this bit was merged in from an earlier take.  That's a problem and I'll fix it.

**EDIT**
Fixed: use of 'of course' and 'due course' in the same sentence
Fixed: Mood mismatch when Fa'Lina starts to tell Jakob that Dulcinia is dead
Added: footnote about 'plan B'
Added: Description of Fi, mentioned that Fi teleports people rather than just guiding them
Added: footnote about 'cubi markings

(Argh... Quote box overkill... :P)

Quote from: Tapewolf on August 05, 2006, 03:58:53 PM

Quote from: Sid on August 05, 2006, 03:35:37 PM
[Species and wings not mentioned]

Yes, I'm aware of this.  I've actually been writing a proper introduction in an effort to make it work standalone.  You're dead on with the backwings, though.  That's covered in the full intro as well, but the problem with inserting it into the text is that I'm not completely sure how I'd make Jakob explain what he is.  In the original version he was actually reminiscing with someone, and they would be able to see his species and race at a glance.  (Also, there's a picture of him in my signature.)

Yeah, it's one of those occasions where I of course know what you mean ("Cubi have backwings by default"), but the story doesn't say so. I decided to be mean and only factored in what was said in the story itself :P

Quote

Quote
[Fa'Lina's Plan B]

Agreed.  I was bloody sick of people saying 'and she offered a tray of muffins' all over the place.  If I re-edit this to work standalone, that's one of the things I'll remove.

I know, it's hard to work around stuff like that when the action is something every author mentions. Kudos for trying to dodge the stereotypical phrase :)

Quote

Quote
<nitpick>
One thing about the style, coming from a site I once browsed because I once also considered writing a first-person fic:

QuoteThe trick is to eliminate most of those nasty "I" words that sneak into your prose unnoticed. Just because the story is being told in first person, does not forgive starting every (or every other) sentence with "I". The alternatives are endless.

</nitpick>

You haven't explained the benefit of doing this >:-)  What advantage is gained from that much re-engineering?

The same advantage that is gained when you transfer this advice to the third person. This rule is actually a given thing when you transfer it to the third person, but I guess it happens a lot easier with the first person for some reason.
One of the things that often bugs me in third-person fics is that many authors use the "He/She/It [verb]" starting combo to the point of me closing the browser. Like... *switches on his senseless-writing gear*

QuoteHe nodded in agreement. He took a screwdriver out of his toolbox and walked over to the car. He lifted the hood and frowned. He instantly noticed that the motor was missing. "What the?" he asked himself. He walked over to the phone and called his friend.

(My IQ just dropped by a few points, I hope you're happy now.)
(Yes, I have seen fics like that.)
I mentioned it mostly as a reminder since there are few ways to disguise the "I [verb]" starting combo, so every use of it sorta stands out (especially when a few paragraphs begin with it). Going back through it, there were a few occasions where the "I [verb]" could have been avoided, but I wouldn't classify it as something you have to change in the existing chapters (unless you really feel like it). Hence the lack of quotes where you supposedly broke this. :)

Quote

QuoteRelated to the issue of "verb + adverb": I'm not a major fan of wordiness or flowery language, but adverbs have their place

Well I am a fan of wordiness and flowery language.

I can easily live with your style, actually. Both here and in your walkthroughs. With "flowery", I meant things of the caliber of "use four paragraphs to describe a room before anything actually happens". I enjoy a fic where stuff happens, and I enjoy descriptions where they make sense. As long as it doesn't disrupt the flow of a fic, I'm fine, personally.

My personal worst-case experience had been an action scene that suddenly paused as soon as the fight moved into another room and spent half a page or so to describe pretty much everything from the curtain color to the water level in the sink. It was like Bullet Time on drugs.

And for a case of "Flowery language and excessive use of descriptive words", check out "The Eye of Argon (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Eye_of_Argon)" (linked to its Wiki page since it supplies explanations and a link to the text) ;)

Great chapter once again, but you've fixed all the things I was going to nitpick about. So now this feels like mindless, non-constructive praise. Curses.

Quote from: Sid on August 05, 2006, 04:56:39 PM
(Argh... Quote box overkill... :P)

Want some more?  'course you do!

Quote

Quote from: Tapewolf on August 05, 2006, 03:58:53 PM

Quote from: Sid on August 05, 2006, 03:35:37 PM
[Species and wings not mentioned]

Yes, I'm aware of this.  I've actually been writing a proper introduction in an effort to make it work standalone.

Yeah, it's one of those occasions where I of course know what you mean ("Cubi have backwings by default"), but the story doesn't say so. I decided to be mean and only factored in what was said in the story itself :P

---

WARNING:  This is considered alpha-quality and should not be used in production systems.

Jakob Pettersohn was a demon.  In fact, he still is on account of his immense lifespan compared to Beings such as you or I.
The fact that he was a demon did not mean that he had horns and a forked tail - in fact he had no horns at all and his tail was long and fluffy, but this was perfectly normal for a wolf, as was the fact that he walked upon two legs.  At least, this was considered normal where Jakob came from.

Less normal was the fact that he had a large pair of feathered wings sprouting from his shoulderblades.  This did not mean he could fly, since he had never tried to do so and the muscles were thin and underdeveloped, but it did mark him for a magical Creature and most Beings had a particular fear and hatred of Creatures.

This hatred was very much the case when Jakob was young, although in recent years attitudes have mellowed somewhat, and most Beings get along fine with most Creatures so long as they don't try to eat anyone.

Eating Beings wasn't something Jakob was interested in doing.  His main passion was Being technology, coming as he did from a background where Creatures generally used magic instead.  Eating the practitioners of said technology would not really be conducive to Jakob's learning about it, not that eating people would normally have occurred to him anyway.

As an incubus, Jakob had the ability to feed on ambient emotions generated by nearby Beings and Creatures, and therefore he didn't actually need to eat at all, although most 'cubi had a favourite food which they continued to eat for pleasure.  Not all Creatures could do this, it was peculiar to incubi and succubi, however it was their ability to devour or trap souls which caused 'cubi to be so feared.

---

And here come the quotes...

Quote

Quote

Quote
<nitpick>
One thing about the style, coming from a site I once browsed because I once also considered writing a first-person fic:

QuoteThe trick is to eliminate most of those nasty "I" words that sneak into your prose unnoticed. Just because the story is being told in first person, does not forgive starting every (or every other) sentence with "I". The alternatives are endless.

</nitpick>

You haven't explained the benefit of doing this >:-)  What advantage is gained from that much re-engineering?

The same advantage that is gained when you transfer this advice to the third person. This rule is actually a given thing when you transfer it to the third person, but I guess it happens a lot easier with the first person for some reason.
One of the things that often bugs me in third-person fics is that many authors use the "He/She/It [verb]" starting combo to the point of me closing the browser. Like... *switches on his senseless-writing gear*

QuoteHe nodded in agreement. He took a screwdriver out of his toolbox and walked over to the car. He lifted the hood and frowned. He instantly noticed that the motor was missing. "What the?" he asked himself. He walked over to the phone and called his friend.

(My IQ just dropped by a few points, I hope you're happy now.)

Agreed - that was gross. Looking back over chapter 1, I have done that a little excessively here and there.  I might fix parts of that, and I'll definitely look out for it in future.

Quote
My personal worst-case experience [of flowery language/overdescription] had been an action scene that suddenly paused as soon as the fight moved into another room and spent half a page or so to describe pretty much everything from the curtain color to the water level in the sink. It was like Bullet Time on drugs.

You're sure they weren't taking the piss?
A good case in point for overdescription is Titus Groan and Gormenghast, which run to 512 pages each, mostly of description.  It took me weeks to read them.  When the BBC serialised it around 2000, they managed to do both books in about 2 hours each, without cutting a single plot element or reducing the dialogue as far as I could tell.

Quote
And for a case of "Flowery language and excessive use of descriptive words", check out "The Eye of Argon (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Eye_of_Argon)" (linked to its Wiki page since it supplies explanations and a link to the text) ;)

I'll have to read that, and the tutorial thing you linked to before.

Oh dear, if you want to see bad writing, read some Ayn Rand. Damn smart, but couldn't write worth a damn.

Quote
WARNING:  This is considered alpha-quality and should not be used in production systems.
[snip]

Nice general foreword, actually. This (or something like it) would fit well for a standalone version :)

QuoteAnd here come the quotes...

D:

QuoteLooking back over chapter 1, I have done that a little excessively here and there.  I might fix parts of that, and I'll definitely look out for it in future.

Well, the first chapter had a lot of action and indirect speech. So the chance of something like that happening is of course larger. A bit more direct speech (like you did in the second chapter) does wonders there. :)

QuoteA good case in point for overdescription is Titus Groan and Gormenghast, which run to 512 pages each, mostly of description.  It took me weeks to read them.  When the BBC serialised it around 2000, they managed to both books in about 2 hours minutes each, without cutting a single plot element or reducing the dialogue as far as I could tell.

...um... :erk
That's certainly impressive. Just not in a good way xD

*Envies JP's writing skills* D:

Quote from: Gareeku on August 06, 2006, 01:19:19 PM
*Envies JP's writing skills* D:

You're miles better at character interaction, though.  And fight scenes.

While I'm not heaping on as much constructive criticism as some here I do wish you to know that I like your work.

awesome stuff, good work.

The changes do make things clearer than before, thus easier to read and more enjoyable. Those references at tha bottom are probably good too for people unfamiliar with DMFA.
Keep up the good work. :januscat

Chapter 3

I graduated from the Succubus And Incubus Academy after about 375 years, having received a reasonably well-rounded education.
Fa'lina called me into her office the day before I left, asking me one last time if I would reconsider and stay to teach or do research as my father had done, but I declined.
"I've been cooped up in SAIA for nearly four hundred years, Fa'lina.  I'd like to see the outside world again."
"Very well," she sighed, "I see you mind is made up, but my offer still stands.  I shall give you a charm - if in time you should decide to return for further study or to help us out, it will allow you to return."

My first few days outside of SAIA were not pleasant.  I had grown too used to keeping the company of other Creatures, and as a consequence of this I foolishly allowed my headwings to reappear while relaxing in a tavern.

At first I didn't notice that the Beings were slowly edging away from me, for they had done so quite cleverly to avoid arousing my suspicion, and most of them had obscured their thoughts.  But when a feline huntsman burst in through the door wielding a crossbow and shouting "DEATH TO THE INCUBUS!", it became clear that something was amiss.

A crossbow is a very deadly thing - the shock alone can bring down a feral moose even if the wound itself is not directly fatal - so this was not a good situation to be in.  My hand snaked towards the charm, now fastened to a chain about my neck, but I quickly saw it was pointless.  In all likelihood the spell would take far too long and succeed only in bringing my murdered corpse back to SAIA, not quite the result Fa'lina had envisaged when she gave it to me.

Fortunately my reflexes and timing were still quite good - honed by the self-defence courses I had taken at the Academy - so as the huntsman reached to fire, I managed to dodge at the last moment, the bolt nicking my arm in a puff of grey fur.  This of course put the huntsman at a disadvantage since the crossbow would now have to be reloaded and this required time I had no intention of giving him.

With a snarl, I jumped forward, my backwings reappearing as I did so, accompanied by the canine-headed tentacles that were a hallmark of my clan.

I had an eerie feeling that Fa'lina was watching me through her powers of omniscience, and somehow her parting advice came back to me very clearly.
Remember, Jakob, we have only taught you to use your abilities.  By themselves they are neither good nor evil - it is how you see fit to use them which will determine what you are."

Lashing out, I morphed the tentacle-heads away, flattening and honing the ends to razor-sharp edges like living knives.  The hunter jumped back with an expression of shock on his face, but it wasn't his life I was after - it was the crossbow.  My tentacles sliced through the bowstring like butter, putting the device beyond immediate use and causing the remains of the string to whiplash back across his hand.  It may also be that I cost him a finger into the bargain, I was never quite sure.  Either way it could have been far worse for either of us.

"I came here for a drink," I snarled, both at him and the rat landlord who was now cowering behind the bar, "but if this is how you treat your patrons, then may you both rot in Hell.  I bid you good day!"
Turning around I felt the warm tension of a swordsman's concealed thoughts behind me, but a quick blow from a tentacle to the back of his knees sent him crashing to the floor.  I left the establishment with a flourish, this time making sure both sets of wings were properly hidden.

Unfortunately my problems did not end there, and I found myself having to flee.  Reports of a grey, lupine incubus on the hunt for souls spread quickly through the town and on more than one occasion I saw wolf-beings arrested or set upon by mobs.  I was disguised as an Alsatian of course, but it seemed that the Beings in this time and place were not aware that a 'cubi could change their appearance so thoroughly as we can, so I went unchallenged.
Nonetheless I travelled quickly, hoping that my innocent brethren would be able to prove that they were Beings and not incubi.

I spent much of that year wandering from town to town, earning my keep by performing various odd jobs and tinkering.  As the days shortened and the nights started to become chill, I wondered again whether I should perhaps have heeded Fa'lina and become a researcher or professor at the Academy.  Several times I found myself reaching for the chain around my neck, but each time I slapped my hand away.  I would brave the world outside SAIA for a little longer.

One day in mid October I found myself at gates the city of Ha'Khun, a large town situated in the valley beneath the fearsome slopes of the Black Mountains.  This proved to be a most fortuitous place to stay, since it was controlled by an angel and because of this, combined with his efforts to ensure the peace was kept, 'cubi and demons were free to live openly in the city so long as they did not cause any trouble themselves.

As it happened, I was in the vicinity of a new mill about which a certain amount of excitement was being made, so I decided to attend its opening.
It really was quite revolutionary - set on the bank of a fast-flowing river, it used the water to drive a large wheel which by means of a series of pulleys drove six large grinding stones.  I had seen some simple machinery and even built small waterwheels from palm leaves as a child, but I had never seen anything on this scale before, and I found it utterly fascinating.  I was not the only one - the wonder in the air was almost tangible, and it proved most welcome as I had been somewhat undernourished of late.

Up to this point, flour had to be milled by hand - typically by an army of workers armed with mortar and pestle, grinding each day for a meagre wage.  With machinery like this, the price of flour would drop through the floor.

"Think of it.. bread for everyone!" called out a voice belonging to an angel, a snow-leopard with long flowing hair and sumptuous purple robes.  He was in fact Page, the mysterious and charismatic patron of Ha'Khun.
"When this mill and others just like it are at full capacity," he continued, "we will be able to export bread in quantities unheard of!  It is as I have always maintained - science will bring us a new age of prosperity!"
There was a round of applause, but it was muted - many, including myself, were standing as if hypnotized by the sight of the machinery.

Suddenly one of the drive belts snapped, bringing me out of my reverie and causing the leopard's face to fall.  "There seem to be a few teething troubles to overcome before we get to that point, though.." he admitted.

As I stared at the broken belt and pulley arrangement, which had been used to transfer power around a corner, I began to design a more robust means of doing so in my head.  Suddenly, everything clicked into place.

"Your pardon, Mi'lord," I said to the angel, "but would it not be better if, instead of using belts, you had two wooden shafts at right-angles?  Perhaps with interlocking gears?"  I pulled out a piece of vellum and some charcoal and began to sketch my design.
"Furthermore," I added, "you could improve the efficiency of the mill by utilising gear ratios.."  As the leopard stared at my diagrams, his face suddenly bloomed into a wide smile and he led me away by the arm.

"Good sir, you probably have no idea how difficult it is to find people with the intuitive knack for machinery that my projects require.  Many of those who are both able and willing are, unfortunately, Beings which means I can get maybe forty years benefit of their experience, and spend maybe as long again finding a suitable replacement.
"This turnover has set back my plans by a century at least.. but a 'cubi such as yourself who is versed in such matters would be a most valuable asset to my projects, and indeed the city as a whole.  Pray tell me your name, and what I need offer in order to put your skills at my disposal?"

I named a modest sum.  He laughed.

"Jakob, I can offer you ten times that as your starting salary," he said, suddenly dropping his usual mannerism and talking to me as an equal.  "I'll throw in a room within my palace, and provide full access to whatever equipment you need.

"I know much that is hidden, my friend, secrets such as you would never have learned in SAIA.. sciences that make this mill seem like a child's toy.  If your work pleases me as much as I think it will, I shall share these with you.  Perhaps more besides.." he added, with a twinkle in his eye, as we shook hands.

It was a meeting which changed my life, for both good and ill...

Is sure hope it doesn't take me 300+ years to graduate from college. It really makes you wonder how much a cubi knows.

what are the odds of say, Jacob having befriended Dr. Ink while at SAIA?

Quote from: GabrielsThoughts on August 20, 2006, 11:20:44 PM
what are the odds of say, Jacob having befriended Dr. Ink while at SAIA?

Well, Ink is about 7000 and Jakob was around 400 when he left, so I guess the real question is "What are the odds of Ink having befriended Jacob while at SAIA?"  Frankly, I don't see it myself - it's more likely to be something akin to Ink and Abel, i.e. respect rather than friendship.  Besides, Ink seems to be much more prone to violence than Jakob ever is, even counting the 'Johan Cross' affair.

Quote from: James StarRunner on August 20, 2006, 08:56:59 PM
Is sure hope it doesn't take me 300+ years to graduate from college. It really makes you wonder how much a cubi knows.

Indeed.  By my reckoning, Destania must have been at SAIA for the best part of a millenia.  On the other hand, some 'cubi seem to get out relatively early, but don't forget Aary's comment "Fa'lina, I'm not fifty anymore.. I don't need cute ways of getting a message delivered.." which implies to me that they generally think in rather different timescales to Beings.

QuoteBut when a feline huntsman burst in through the door wielding a crossbow and shouting "DEATH TO THE INCUBUS!", it became clear that something was amiss.

Heheh. That's great. Something about the way Jakob was thinking in that situation.

QuoteAs it I happened, I was in the vicinity of a new mill about which a certain amount of excitement was being made,

The word "I" at the marked point appears to be a typo, in case you were wondering about such things. Other than that it looks great. :januscat

Quote from: Lysander on August 21, 2006, 12:12:20 PM

QuoteBut when a feline huntsman burst in through the door wielding a crossbow and shouting "DEATH TO THE INCUBUS!", it became clear that something was amiss.

Heheh. That's great. Something about the way Jakob was thinking in that situation.

This is a nod to two things: Sheridan's character 'Arc' in the FCRP, and a real event from the peasant's revolt of 1381.  Apparently the rather amoral Bishop of Salisbury was celebrating Mass when an angry mob suddenly rushed into the cathedral shouting "Death to the Bishop!".  They say he made it halfway across the plain before they got him.

Quote

QuoteAs it I happened, I was in the vicinity of a new mill about which a certain amount of excitement was being made,

The word "I" at the marked point appears to be a typo, in case you were wondering about such things. Other than that it looks great. :januscat

Fixed.  It was a last-minute change to try and cut down on the number of sentences starting with 'I'.

Yay! Update!

QuoteBut when a feline huntsman burst in through the door wielding a crossbow and shouting "DEATH TO THE INCUBUS!", it became clear that something was amiss.

I love that line. It strikes me as hilariously rational and analytic... and I somehow recognize myself in that sort of behaviour XD

QuoteIn all likelihood the spell would take far too long and succeed only in bringing my murdered corpse back to SAIA, not quite the result Fa'lina had envisaged when she gave it to me.

Fa'Lina: *walks over to Jakob's teleported corpse* *kicks it lightly* "I hate it when that happens..."
:P
Okay, seriously, that's my second fav line in the chapter. Again because Jakob's being very rational even while being attacked.

Minor points I noticed while reading:
- The tendency towards timeskips to illustrate the way Cubi think of time ("Couple of hundred years is not much...") strikes again. This time it seems to work much better than the last time since there are less loose ends to tie. Well, maybe aside from Izak, but then again, this is Jakob's story, so I guess we'll see his brother again sooner or later in a sort of guest role.
- Jakob's accidentally reappearing headwings somehow reminded me of Abel's reaction when Dan saw him wingless for the first time ("Hmm? *checks* Still gone...").
- Something that struck me as odd was that so many people obscured their thoughts. Especially in such a situation, most people should have a hard time concealing their fear and hate. But I also acknowledge that the situation had called for Jakob to not know of this in advance, so it's just a side note :P
- The story seemed to flow much better here. I'm not sure if that's just my view of things or something else. It may be the added variety in sentence beginnings, the setting and theme, or maybe just the various subtle nods and quirks you built in without making them stick out. No matter what, I'm very pleased with the chapter and quite happy I decided to follow the story in the first place. Please keep it up, I'm curious to see what happens next! :)

Quote from: Sid on August 21, 2006, 03:03:53 PM

QuoteBut when a feline huntsman burst in through the door wielding a crossbow and shouting "DEATH TO THE INCUBUS!", it became clear that something was amiss.

I love that line. It strikes me as hilariously rational and analytic... and I somehow recognize myself in that sort of behaviour XD

I'm glad that worked.  I wasn't sure.. it's the sort of thing I'd do in the walkthroughs.

Quote
Fa'Lina: *walks over to Jakob's teleported corpse* *kicks it lightly* "I hate it when that happens..."

Jakob's shade: "Show some respect, you heartless old cow."

Quote
Okay, seriously, that's my second fav line in the chapter. Again because Jakob's being very rational even while being attacked.

Not to rain on your parade, but it's a bit more like he's thinking back over an event from several hundred years ago.  He may not have been quite that rational at the time, although now you come to mention it..

QuoteThe tendency towards timeskips to illustrate the way Cubi think of time ("Couple of hundred years is not much...") strikes again. This time it seems to work much better than the last time since there are less loose ends to tie. Well, maybe aside from Izak, but then again, this is Jakob's story, so I guess we'll see his brother again sooner or later in a sort of guest role.

Firstly, the time skip.  I haven't planned his entire career at SAIA, in fact I'm not even sure what emotion he takes most of his energy from, although I'm gravitating towards wonder and surprise.  Anyway, I've left SAIA kind of open.  There's a few ideas I'm toying with and I'll probably go back and fill them in afterwards like Michael Moorcock did with Elric (born 1960, killed off 1963, conquered the realm 1972, last known story 1991..).

As for Izak I'm a little nervous about writing for him, he's based in part off my brother you see, only he doesn't know :twisted
In fact, for all Jakob's family, the first letter of their name corresponds to my family, although the similarities mostly end there... except for Jakob himself who is a sort of warped version of me.
Jakob was never supposed to have such a life of his own, really - if I'd planned it properly, the names are something I would have changed.  But anyway, now I've created Izak I can't get rid of him, but he will mostly be confined to bit-parts.

QuoteJakob's accidentally reappearing headwings somehow reminded me of Abel's reaction when Dan saw him wingless for the first time ("Hmm? *checks* Still gone...").

Kind of, only Jakob gets it wrong.

QuoteSomething that struck me as odd was that so many people obscured their thoughts. Especially in such a situation, most people should have a hard time concealing their fear and hate.

Perhaps they have a 'cubi drill'.  Perhaps Jakob can sense their fear but not the reason for it.  If he was kind of drowsy before the huntsman turned up, it might also explain why his headwings reappeared.

Quote
- The story seemed to flow much better here. I'm not sure if that's just my view of things or something else. It may be the added variety in sentence beginnings, the setting and theme, or maybe just the various subtle nods and quirks you built in without making them stick out. No matter what, I'm very pleased with the chapter and quite happy I decided to follow the story in the first place. Please keep it up, I'm curious to see what happens next! :)

Thanks.  You wouldn't believe how little idea I have of how these things are going to unfold before I write them...

**EDIT**
I'm disappointed, no-one's noticed that the Patron of Ha'Khun has changed from 'Azrael' to 'Page'..

Quote from: Tapewolf on August 21, 2006, 04:01:07 PM
**EDIT**
I'm disappointed, no-one's noticed that the Patron of Ha'Khun has changed from 'Azrael' to 'Page'..

Gak! I didn't pay attention to the town! I thought it was funny that Page was an angel as well. I had some suspicion, but I didn't put 2 and 2 together. I thought Jakob still had to meet Azrael.

QuoteJakob was never supposed to have such a life of his own, really

Jakob: *standing behind you* "Show some respect, author..." (:P)

QuotePerhaps they have a 'cubi drill'.

That would be the only drill where Step One reads "Think happy thoughts" ;)
But yes, tiredness and such would of course be possible reasons. The entire thing is of course minor, since all protagonists will have to let their guard down once in a while to run into a bad situation. Would be a fairly boring story otherwise ("After a few hundred years, I left SAIA. I spent the next thousand years... living among beings who never recognized me. ...I think I once caught a bad cold... but that's pretty much all that happened...") :P

QuoteYou wouldn't believe how little idea I have of how these things are going to unfold before I write them...

I do, actually. It's the same here when I'm staring at my text editor ^^;

QuoteYou wouldn't believe how little idea I have of how these things are going to unfold before I write them...

I know of some who use the idea "I don't know what I'm thinking until I write it down." Usually end up holding true.

QuoteI'm disappointed, no-one's noticed that the Patron of Ha'Khun has changed from 'Azrael' to 'Page'..

Gah, didn't even realize that was the town. No wonder I couldn't put the connection together until now. I thought about the name when I read it for a moment but couldn't think of why is sounded different. :januscat

hmm.. seems that angel has a few things planned.. Even if you hadn't added the "for good and ill" line I'd still get the feeling that it wouldn't turn out very well for Jakob in the end...

Personally, I'm hooked.
Keep up the good work!

Quote from: Drake Manaweilder on August 22, 2006, 05:16:53 PM
hmm.. seems that angel has a few things planned.. Even if you hadn't added the "for good and ill" line I'd still get the feeling that it wouldn't turn out very well for Jakob in the end...

Many people here already know roughly what's going to happen, but even so I never could resist dropping a hint, especially not when it took weeks to record.

http://www.dougtheeagle.com/stuff/the_dark_revenge_of_jakob_pettersohn_spoiler.wav.mp3

I have censored out the critical word in Jakob's tirade by pulling the tape away from the heads with a q-tip.

Chapter 4

Page knocked twice and entered my office.  "How's it coming, Yak?" he asked.  "I'll need your design for the control system fairly soon."
Looking up, I reached into my desk and handed him the plans.  "The prototype is in the back room.  It seems to be working perfectly, at least according to what you've specified.  But I can't be completely sure until I know what it's actually supposed to be controlling."

I had been designing systems for Page for about two years now, and the mechanisms he required help with were becoming increasingly complex, yet modular; evidently small components of a larger system.  It was clear from the start that he knew a lot more about technology than his fumbling attempt with the mills had let on.  "If it had worked perfectly, how would I have found a new apprentice?" he had said, with that mildly annoying twinkle in his eye.

He looked me over with a fatherly expression.  "You're quite right, Jakob," he said.  "I'm ending your two-year probationary period.  You've earned the right to know just what you've been designing for me.  But I warn you, there will be a lot to take in."

"Let's begin with this," he said and took from his pocket a polished grey rock.  He placed it upon the table and handed me a small dagger.  "Put the dagger on the table, and nudge it slowly towards the rock."

I did so, and as the dagger approached the rock, it suddenly moved of its own accord and twisted to meet the stone edge-on with a clang.

"You see?" said Page, "It attracts iron.  But this is the clever part - it uses no magical energy to do so that I can detect.  None."  I gave a gasp of astonishment.  "This effect is simply an inherent property of the lodestone," he continued, "so it can be used by Beings and Creatures alike.

"Now, if it were somehow possible to turn the magnetism on and off, one could arrange them in a circular manner and have a metal shaft constantly rotating under its own power.  You could make a gryphonless cart."  Not knowing then what I know now, I must admit I laughed at the idea.

Page lead me to a darkened room in the most secret area of the palace.
"Do you recognise this?" he asked, handing me a piece of paper on which was printed a most lifelike image of a peculiar creature, a strange, flat-faced thing vaguely resembling a shaved ape.
"Is it a.. human?" I asked.  I had heard legends of such creatures, although it was said that they had died out of our world.

"Indeed it is," said Page.  "Occasionally human travellers from other planes become lost and enter our own world by means of dimensional gates.
By good fortune I have had some contact with these humans, enough to construct a charm of concealment, and learn something of their ways.  Observe!"

Page took a small golden band and placed it upon his arm.  Immediately his form shimmered, and his fur was replaced with pink, hairless skin.  His long hair remained, but his muzzle was gone, reduced to a small triangular nose protruding rather foolishly from his face.

"How do I look?"  He asked, but I was speechless.  I had seen such patches before - they were rather popular with Angels and Demons who needed to live amongst Beings - but I didn't know it was possible to change one's species, especially not into a mythical creature such as a human.

After a few moments Page continued.  "Now it's your turn, Jakob.  Do you think you can do it?"  He gestured to a mirror.  Staring hard at him and the portrait, I concentrated and made the transformation.

"Not bad," said Page.  "Shrink the nose a little... that's better.  Ah, the ears are wrong.  Look at mine.. the funny little channels and markings.  I think they're unique to each human."

"Page," I said, having got it down pat, "why are we disguising ourselves as mythical creatures?  Have you discovered an enclave of humans or something?"  There were rumours of a settlement known as 'Haven' although most people dismissed these as fable.

Page grinned broadly.  "You could say that.  This is likely to be a bit of a shock, my friend, so brace yourself."  He took a deep breath before continuing.

"If I may say so myself, my chief contribution to science is my work on the ability to measure things, so that they can be reproduced in controlled conditions.  Only in this way can we truly study things.

"In particular I have concentrated on the ability to measure magic, as you are probably aware.  But the key breakthrough I made was when I became interested in dimensional gateways."

"My Gods.." I stuttered, realising what he was about to say.

"Yes, quite.  By measuring the magical forces around a dimensional gate and after years of painstaking experimentation, I was able to construct a spell which allows me to create a transdimensional portal at will, and manipulate it."

Page was now grinning so broadly it was almost frightening.  "You can't imagine how much I have longed to share this discovery with another Creature, Jakob.  I particularly wanted a 'cubi, owing to the natural shapeshifting ability of your kind.  It's hard to do it alone, you see, and most Beings lack the magical potential.

"I have made a few preliminary expeditions myself.  Such secrets I have seen already.." he trailed off and was silent for a few moments.

"Most humans have no magic of their own.  Whether they are innately unable to harness the forces you and I take for granted, or whether they can in time learn to do so like other Beings, I am not sure.  Most of the humans that find their way into Furrae have done so by taking possession of artifacts created by magical races.

"In the world which I intend to visit they have built such fantastic devices to compensate for the lack of magic.  They know the secret of creating lodestones that can be switched on and off at will.  This technology gives them light on demand, gryphonless carts, the ability to record sounds and even create moving pictures of an event so that they can watch it again and again.  All this is done without using any magic whatsoever.

"I intend to learn how these miracles are achieved, Jakob.  By travelling to their world and bringing back some of their technology..  what we could learn would transform Furrae forever!
But I can't do it all  by myself.  I need a partner to come with me, preferably a shapeshifter.  It may also be necessary for us to live in that realm for a number of years to absorb what we need to know.  Does this prospect interest you?"

"Count me in," I said, nearly overwhelmed by the possibilities.  "A chance such as this comes once in a lifetime.. even for an incubus.  But I do have a question - what about the language?  Do you know any of the human tongues?  And will you be able to teach me in time?"

"We will be going to a land where the humans speak the same language as us.  Don't ask me how," he added, seeing my expression.  "It's just one of those weird coincidences, I guess.

"Anyway.  I brought you here to show you the machine which we've been designing."  He opened up a curtain to reveal a pair of large standing stones with a control pedestal in front of it.  Beside it was the machine which I had been designing the control system for, a complex mechanism made from cams and irregularly-shaped gears.  In effect, a simple mechanical computer.

"This machine allows us to control the gate.  The control system you have designed will rotate a set of enchanted crystals in the precise pattern needed to cause the gate to appear.  The most important part is that it will do this automatically every 3 hours, giving us the ability to return home easily.  This will be less important if we undertake a long-haul mission, but in order to do that we would need to set up a safe-haven anyway, and that would require a number of return trips.

"But as I say, that's a future project.  Right now, I'm just interested in acquiring some technical reference books."

Page made the necessary arrangements with his Being staff.  He was, after all, the lord of Ha'Khun and it would be necessary for someone to act as regent until he returned.  This was mostly a precaution, since we were effectively planning a day trip to the world which he called 'Earth'.

Chapter 5

Like many new experiences, it took me a while to adapt.  Page and I emerged from a disused building upon a pier in a place which we later learned was called 'Clacton-on-sea'.  From the smell of the air, it was some time in late March.
Page had decided upon smart dress so that we ought to look fairly inconspicuous, and I was also wearing a pair of dark glasses to conceal my eyes.  There were quite a number of other young people in similar attire so it seemed that we had chosen well. 

Our first priority was to obtain some of the local currency.  This could have been easier.  We did eventually manage to find a pawnbroker willing to take the gold which we had brought with us, but he was rather suspicious of where we had obtained it and I could see in his mind that he was intending to report us to the police after we had left.

I'm not really into terror - after all, it usually involves killing - but suspicion with a little hint of fear is something I can rarely resist.  "I don't think you will," I said quietly, in answer to his unvoiced decision to call the police.  Taking off my glasses, I stared into his eyes.  The fact that mine were amber did not make him happy at all.  Slowly my face began to take on a more canine appearance as I relaxed my disguise a little.
The pawnbroker's reaction to that was absolutely beautiful - he went sheet-white, and I smiled, exposing a set of teeth which were almost entirely unlike his. "That's better," I told him.  "Good day."

"Yak, what the Hell were you playing at?" hissed Page as we marched swiftly back towards the seafront.

"He thought the gold was stolen," I pointed out, since Page didn't have the ability to read thoughts.  "He was going give the authorities our description.  Now he thinks I'm a 'were-wolf', which suits me just fine since no-one believes they exist, rather like humans in our world.  I don't believe he's going to tell anyone about us now.  Besides, his fear was tasty."

"Well I guess it's easy enough for you," grinned Page.  "But I need a more physical sustenance.  Shall we look for a cafe?"

We didn't have to look far, since the town was a seaside resort, after all.  Page was hungry and I was curious to try the local cuisine.  After the showdown with the pawnbroker, I was pretty sure that we wouldn't have any more problems - selling mysterious gold was by and large the riskiest part of the exercise.
I popped into a newsagent first, to buy a newspaper or two, since that would give us valuable information about the world.  Scanning the headlines, I saw that my hunch about the season was right; by their calendar it was the 29th of March, 1964.

I could smell the hide from the black jackets which many of the patrons were wearing as we entered the cafe.  Their thoughts were peaceful enough - until they saw us sit down.  "MODS!" yelled one of them, and the others all looked up.  Many of them rose, brandishing impromptu weapons.

My natural reaction would have been to raise my hackles, bring out my tentacles and snarl a lot.  Doing so would certainly have impressed these humans, but it would also have impressed the police with the urge to shoot us on sight, which was not quite the idea.  So I did the next best thing.  "RUN!"

It seemed like a good idea at the time.. after all the beach was full of other people in suits just like us, I'd thought that we could lose ourselves in the crowd.  It didn't occur to me until afterwards that the black leather people and the suit people were natural enemies in the wild.

I suppose it could have been worse - we did after all manage to lose the people with the jackets.  When we returned a few years later, I looked up the event in the old newspapers held by the local reference library.  Apparently there were 44 arrests.

However, we had not yet completed our mission, which was to obtain details of the human technology which powered their lights and other artifacts.  A solution to this problem soon presented itself however, as we found our way into a library, but this presented new problems of its own.

First of all, the librarian treated us with extreme suspicion.  Reading her mind I discovered that most of the local men of our apparent* age were the leather-jacketed ones known as Rockers.
Mods, which were the people we had dressed as, were the natives of an important and distant town known as Lun'Don, and they had come here for a short pilgrimage to the sea.  Since we were quite obviously not local, we were unlikely to return any books which we borrowed, hence the Librarian's distrust.  Sadly, she was entirely correct, but the books we were 'borrowing' would be going a lot further afield than Lun'Don.

Meanwhile, Page, his physical hunger replaced by a hunger for knowledge, had found the shelves of the library containing all the technical reference books.  He gave a short "psst!", producing yet more frowns from the librarian, and I hurried over to where he was.  Looking across the shelves, I found two encyclopedias, for children and for adults.  I put both on a desk and began to leaf through the children's one, since finding out how the lighting systems worked would be a good start.  As I had hoped, it gave a good overview, explaining much that an adult from this time would have taken for granted. 

"Electricity!" I cried, annoying the librarian.  "That's what their power source is called.  Look for books on that."  I strode over to a switch on the wall, and pressed it, turning the lights on and off a few times with an expression of wonder.  The librarian's face was incandescent by now, so I went into her mind and devoured her rage, leaving her glassy-eyed for a few seconds.

I looked back at the children's encyclopedia and tried to find out what electricity was and what it was made from.  This proved to be an inspired move, since it immediately gave me a design for a small power source which used vinegar, copper coins and zinc-coated nails.  I showed it to Page and he almost wept.
Wordlessly he passed me an ancient book entitled "Principles of Electromagnetism".  My eyes widened as I flicked through it, and I carefully placed it on the pile as well.

We now had a description of what the humans' power source was and probably enough information to attempt to recreate it at home, but there was one thing which still intrigued me - Page's wild reports of moving pictures and sounds being recorded.  I found some references to it in the encyclopedia, and it seemed there were several ways of going about it, but all the systems described required electricity to amplify the sound.  Evidently there was more to this electrical magic than simply using it as an energy source.

'Electronics' was a word that I had overlooked at first, thinking that it simply referred to the use of electricity as a power source, but it seemed to me that this was part of the key.  Looking around the shelves I found a book entitled 'Basic Electronics' and added that to the pile as well.

By now we had seven books on the table, plus the one Page was reading.  It hadn't really occurred to either of us to Scry the books, since it was considered rude in our homeworld.  (That we were probably not going to return the books for a hundred years was a moral contradiction that didn't register at the time.)  Besides, we would probably not have been able to write out the contents of all eight books afterwards before the synthetic memories created by the Scrying spell faded away, and the glowing-eye effect it caused while operating would be hard to conceal, even with sunglasses.

The problem now was to sneak the books out of the building in front of the already-suspicious Librarian.  If I had the skills I do now, it would have been a simple matter of making the books invisible, or even hiding behind a shelf and teleporting out, but my powers were fairly basic back then so we had to use other means.

The library had a separate exit and entrance, so I took all the books and moved them onto a table close to the exit.  Then I left, leaving Page behind.
I morphed myself into a Rocker and went back inside.  The librarian watched me with a suspicious eye, this time suspecting me of intending vandalism rather than the theft of her books, and this gave Page time to snatch the pile and leave quietly through the exit while she was distracted.  Taking one more circuit of the library, I pretended to look at a few books and then left to rejoin Page, reverting back to the Mod outfit once more.

Page was getting very hungry now, and it would soon be time for the Gate to materialise on the pier.  We visited a corner shop, where I bought a small electric torch and some batteries for it, along with a small tool set.  The carrier bag proved handy too as I was able to put the books in it.  Finally, we went to a small chip shop and purchased some food.

Sitting down at a stool within the shop, Page began to devour the fish greedily.  I took a small chunk of it myself to see what it was like, and and ate a chip or two on the side.  It was when we stood up to leave that the spell inside the patch on Page's arm suddenly wore off.

Page reverted to leopard form in an instant, including the suit which turned into a small piece of paper.  There was a scream from behind the counter as someone saw him.  "Get down!"  I hissed.  "Down on all fours!  We'll make a break for the pier."  The woman who had screamed had now fainted, aided in part by my own telepathic ability.  At a glance from behind, Page looked a little bit like an oversized Labrador retriever although his feet and hands were something of a giveaway, the spots were a bit of a no-no and the wings on his back were most horribly, horribly wrong.

We ran towards the pier, and I discovered that the peculiar rotating gate which had been quite happy to let us out would not now let us back in.  Page crawled under the turnstile to a chorus of horrified yells as people realised there was a huge alien feline on the loose.  I suddenly noticed the coin slot and fortunately had the correct coin in the change from buying the torch.
Perhaps I'm too honest most of the time, or perhaps I just didn't want to cause any more panic on top of what Page had already caused.  While I fumbled with the turnstile, Page had reverted to two legs and, running in a most un-leopard-like way, was now halfway to the hut where the Gate was scheduled to reappear.

However, there were a number of humans chasing him.  I joined in the pursuit, catching up with Page by virtue of the fact that I was naturally faster and stronger than most humans.  I used a psychic attack on all the nearby humans, a very basic spell that most Beings can block, but it took most of the humans down, and when they awoke they would have forgotten the last five minutes.

Together we entered the hut and plunged through the gate which had appeared just in time.

Safely inside, I put the books on the desk and after changing into my usual clothes, reverted back to my natural lupine form.  It had almost been a disaster, but the prize we had won more than made up for the mess we had caused.  And my Gods, what a prize it was!  There was enough new technology in the few books we had stolen to keep us busy for years, more likely decades.

Page looked at me with a triumphant expression.  "We are going to get busy on this tomorrow, Jakob.  A short rest to recover and we can begin.
We'll build lightbulbs and a generator to take power from the river.. my Gods.. I'll be famous for this! And so will you, Jakob."

Page looked at me with an expression of admiration that I'd never seen on his face before.  "Three times you could have fled back there and saved yourself, but you didn't.  From this day on, we are equals.  Half of my city is yours, Jakob, and we shall rule it together."

'Cubi are extremely emotional creatures, and being made joint lord of Ha'Khun was an extremely emotional moment.  I was so grateful I began to hug him+, when a small, bewildered voice behind me said "..demons.."

We turned around in surprise and saw one of the security guards from the pier, crossing himself as he stared back at a pair of tall, winged, humanoid animals.

---

*Jakob at this point was nearly four times older than the town itself
+Page is something of a father figure to Jakob.  Anyone who implies that Jakob is gay for Page will be modded down.

Nitpicking first:
Not know then what I know now, I must admit I laughed at the idea. -> Not knowing
"Yak, what the Hell were you playing at?" hissed Page as we marched swiftly back towards the seafront. -> Needs a double linebreak after this since the speaker switches.

That being said, wow! Double chapter, you're a fast writer!

The lack of scrying occurred to me a short time before you mentioned it. The explanation of course makes sense, even though scrying would have been smart for the initial phase (to pinpoint what Jakob is looking for in the first place). But mistakes are natural, so this makes Jakob look less perfect. Works for me.

I now understand your Sliders reference in the other thread, and it's a quite interesting touch. Explains a lot of things, and I'm interested in where things are going from there.

You obviously put a lot of thought into the details and potential "loopholes" (like why Jakob doesn't scry or why they have to smuggle out the books in this quasi-oldfashioned way), and the two(?) scenes where Jakob tries to be a Good Citizen even while causing chaos and doing bad stuff work really well. I like character quirks like that.

Only thing that made me go "Huh." is the presence of patches. But I'll just go with the easy way out and assume that unlike Jyrras' invention, these patches are simply paper-bound illusion spells.

Overall, very nice and becoming better and more interesting with each chapter!

Quote from: Sid on August 26, 2006, 06:39:59 PM
That being said, wow! Double chapter, you're a fast writer!

I'm not sure the next one will be up so quickly, I guess we'll have to see.

Quote
The lack of scrying occurred to me a short time before you mentioned it. The explanation of course makes sense, even though scrying would have been smart for the initial phase (to pinpoint what Jakob is looking for in the first place). But mistakes are natural, so this makes Jakob look less perfect. Works for me.

You remember what Abel looked like when he did it?  Man, that was scary.  I don't think a pair of dark glasses would be able to conceal it, and the librarian is suspicious enough without them casting magic all over the place :)

QuoteI now understand your Sliders reference in the other thread, and it's a quite interesting touch. Explains a lot of things, and I'm interested in where things are going from there.

One of the ideas was to have them staying on Earth until about 1985, but I decided to go for a day out instead.  Their next trip will be to 1967 or '68.

You might find this interesting too:

http://www.jpmorris.force9.co.uk/music/test/jakob4.txt
..I dismantled it for use in the Furrae Chronicles RP, but this version still has the description of the funding technique they use later on.

It's fun to write these, most of the chapters have a little grain of truth in them.  The Mod/Rocker thing was real (although not as violent as reported*), but disappointingly there were no leopard sightings in Essex at all that year.
Likewise, the 'practical joke' in Jakob4 did really happen, although I can't find any references to it so far :(

Quote
Only thing that made me go "Huh." is the presence of patches.  But I'll just go with the easy way out and assume that unlike Jyrras' invention, these patches are simply paper-bound illusion spells.

A disguise is necessary to take Page/Azrael into the human realm.  (And it's necessary to take Page into the human realm for him to earn the name 'Azrael', but we'll get to that later).

I'm assuming that the Patch/concealment spells which Azrael uses are an earlier version of the devices perfected by Jyrras 490 years or so later - Azrael doesn't have the level of technology which Jyrras does, after all.  This could also be part of the reason why the patches are less stable than the later model, because it's the technological component that makes them stable.

Alternatively, Azrael perfected them but the secret was lost when he died, Jakob not paying much attention as he doesn't need them himself.

QuoteOverall, very nice and becoming better and more interesting with each chapter!

Chapter 4 is really a lead-on for chapter 5.  It would have been one huge chunk, but it's pushing 20k so I split it.

WHY IS 'FORGETTEN' IN THE SPELLCHECKER?!?

*True story: my father was living in Clacton at the time.  On that weekend while working in the garden, he suddenly saw a small group of people chasing each other down the street, with a film crew following them. He ignored it.  A version of this film was promptly broadcast around the world, carefully edited to portray the entire town being consumed in an orgy of destruction.  Panicked calls from relatives as far abroad as Australia ensued.  If they had left the camera running for another two seconds or so, you would have seen him happily repainting his boat on the driveway, completely oblivious to the alleged carnage.

*snrk* at your True Story there. Gotta love media hype  xD
And that's a quite interesting way of funding things. Well thought-through and researched o.o

QuoteYou remember what Abel looked like when he did it?  Man, that was scary.  I don't think a pair of dark glasses would be able to conceal it, and the librarian is suspicious enough without them casting magic all over the place the one true smile

*giggles* Good point! Would've been quite a sight, though :D (And Abel looked totally awesome when he was scrying! :P)

QuoteI'm not sure the next one will be up so quickly, I guess we'll have to see.

Not rushing you! Just mentally slapping myself for being so slow these days ;)

[Edited after noticing the overuse of a smiley]

Xze likes ^^

I love it... made me crack up a couple of times. The first time they entered, they came on my birthday. ^^ Kinda funny.

Chapter 6

It took us a year to get our first full-sized generator working.
In the meantime we had been working on the light-bulbs, using chemical batteries made from lead and various kinds of acid to drive them.  We had also discovered that potatoes and certain fruits would work as well, although with considerably less potency.  In any case, it gave us enough power to test the bulbs which we had made.

The human guard had proven himself most useful - we had been able to to question him deeply about everyday human life, both verbally and by reading his mind.  Once we had convinced him that we were not legions from Hell or some kind of alien invasion force, he was rather more cooperative.
After a few days we returned him back to his home plane, and what we learned from him would make our next trip considerably less hazardous.

Two years later we had a pair of three-phase generators powered by a dam on the river, and plans for an even larger installation in the mountains.  From this smaller plant, we were able to light all the streets in the town at night, without using coal gas.  We had also discovered a way to make heat from electricity, which proved useful in the winter although it was rather inefficient.
From my calculations I had seen that we would not be able to support these in every home, at least not until the mountain dam was operational, so currently only the palace was heated in this way.

While I had been working on the designs of the generators, electric motors and helping with the lightbulbs, Page had been experimenting with electronics.  From the basic concepts in the textbooks we had stolen he had been able to construct a simple voice-coil speaker, and by running a small generator into it at different speeds he was able to create various rather unpleasant sounds.  Remembering what we'd read about telephones, I pointed out that the speaker should work in reverse, and that if we had two of them we should be able to transmit voices along a wire, a rather more elegant solution than the speaking-tubes which we had used in the palace until now.

This did work, but not very well.  The resulting sound was always too quiet, and it was this more than anything else which really got Page started on electronics, because we needed to amplify the signal and that could not easily be done in a purely mechanical fashion.
Once we had devised a way of reliably producing lightbulbs, Page was able to experiment with thermionic valves.  These, among various other components which we were able to duplicate fairly easily, were the building-blocks of the humans' electronic technology.

As with the humans' initial efforts, Page's first attempts looked like some kind of freakish lightbulb, but they did what we needed.  Depending on the voltage attached to the control pins of the device, we were able to affect the current passing through it - increasing it, or cutting it completely.  And so, after a few false starts we were able to amplify voices, Page's exultant howl promptly treating us to our first demonstration of negative feedback.

From here we were all set - we had the basic elements of a technology that would allow us to record voices as vibrations on a wax disk.  It had taken the humans seven years to do what Page had done in about seven months, although it must be acknowledged that they had been groping in the dark and we were simply retracing their steps.

A couple of years went by, and in spite of the miracles which we had wrought, I could sense that Page was becoming despondent.  "Everything we've done so far has been simple tricks, Jakob." he said, "According to the histories we have, the humans had managed to do all of this by 1914, and more besides.  When we visited it was 1964.  That's fifty years of advancement!  Fifty human years." he added, flexing his claws in frustration.
"I want it all, Jakob.  I want to make our civilisation's technology equal to theirs.  We'll have to go back."

So we did.  Leaving the refinements to the valve, lightbulb and generator designs in the capable hands of our apprentices, we prepared for another voyage into the human realm.

One of the things I have never really understood about Page's dimensional gate spells was the time relationship.  It seemed that he was capable of altering the time at which we arrived relative to our own time.
"Does this mean that we could use it to travel into the past?" I asked him.
"Perhaps," he replied, "but I'm not about to try it.  Those books we took, for instance.  What would happen if we went back in time to the day before we took them and tore them up?  Or burned them?  For all I know that might end the universe.  So I've designed the controls such that we can only ever go forwards in time relative to the destination."

"Anyway," he went on, "the textbooks were talking about some new technology that could replace valves - 'transistors' I believe they were called.  I want to see what happened, so I'm moving us ahead a few years from our last visit."

We emerged once more on Clacton pier, and made our way into the town.


It was 1968.  The library had a few new books, including two volumes of 'Television Receiver Theory' by G. H. Hutson, and a couple of other works about transistor circuits which we also stole.  Fortunately a different librarian was on duty this time, and I saw in her mind a curious difference from the attitude of the other librarian.
Having learned our lesson from the Mod clothes, we had gone for something slightly different but still smart-looking.  The librarian approved of this, mentally comparing our smart look to the long-trousered, long-haired and scruffy appearance of youth in that time.  This was an interesting change.

As before, we had to resort to subterfuge in order to make off with the books, although as a form of compensation I had brought back the least useful of the books which we had borrowed from our 1964 expedition.

Wandering around the town, we entered a music shop of some kind.  Using some more of our earth money, I purchased a small portable disk player and a selection of the black grooved disks which it used.  I made a mental note to buy another of these machines, so I could have one for my own use and the other to dismantle for study.

The shop also had a few recording machines, which used spools of flat rusty ribbon to store the sound on.  These must be the advanced magnetic recorders I had read so much about.  I sorely wanted to buy one of those too, but they were rather heavy and expensive.  I didn't want to have to change more gold if I could avoid it, so reluctantly I settled for the disk player alone.  We could more-or-less duplicate its technology anyhow, since it only needed an amplifier to pick up the vibrations of the stylus.  The magnetic recorder would be a lot more work, requiring fields we hadn't even begun to study.  Nonetheless, I had managed to obtain a book detailing the principles of magnetic recording and I intended to study it fully at a later time.

Sitting in an area of parkland, I began to experiment with the disk player, carefully reading the instructions that came with it.  The first disk I put on was called 'The Nice' by 'Thoughts of Emerlist Davjack', whoever she was.
I was rather impressed - I had been so caught up with the idea of copying human technology that studying their culture as well had not really occurred to me.  There were strange sounds and instruments in this song, products of a technology we had yet to invent.

When the song finished, I put it on again, and suddenly noticed that Page wasn't there.  Looking around, I saw he'd headed off to a group of people relaxing in the sun elsewhere in the park.
This irritated me - Page was an Angel and didn't have the 'cubi ability to read minds or emotions, so he wouldn't be able to tell what they were thinking in the same way as I could.  Nonetheless, he was older than me so I figured he would be able to take care of himself, and besides they had a van with the word 'peace' written down the side.  I just hoped they practiced what they preached.

As the song finished the second time, I took the disk off and tried another one.  This was about a year old but still extremely popular. It was called 'The Beatles' by 'Strawberry Fields Forever'.
Curious names, I thought.  Curious sounds too - strange, unreal wind instruments played in a rather stilted manner, as if they were somehow being played like a clavichord.  I was seized by a strong desire to know how they had achieved some of the things I was hearing on this disk - it was fairly obvious that this was not just a band playing in front of a recording machine, something more complex was afoot.
Listening to the words I suddenly realised that I'd got the song title and band name the wrong way around.  Looking back at the other disk, I saw that it actually had two different sides - I had assumed they were both the same.

I put on the other side of the first disk by 'The Nice', which was apparently called 'Angel of Death'.  At this point Page returned, weaving slightly and clutching a small thin, smouldering object in his hand.  He was looking at me with an idiotic grin, and proffered the thing to me.  It was a small stick of incense.  "Try this," he said, "it really helps clear your mind.."

I looked up at him with exasperation.
"My Gods, Page!  What were you thinking?  You have no idea what this stuff is or how it will affect your metabolism."  He didn't reply but started giggling at the lyrics to the song.


At this he burst out laughing and nearly dropped the little stick of incense he was carrying.  I was forced to take it off him in case he burned himself, which annoyed me, partly because I had expected more caution from the genius of Ha'Khun, but also because I was trying to listen to the music.  There was a rather clever bit made by some keyboard instrument, rather like a clavichord but considerably more advanced.

"Angel of death!  They must be talking about my mad uncle, Jakob!  What do you think?  Reckon I'd make a good avenging angel?"  He started giggling again.

"Come on, 'Azrael'," I said, "and pull yourself together.  What did you learn from the humans?" I was starting to get a headache.
"Love and peace," Page smirked, "that's the secret of their technology.   Come and listen to them, and it will all make sense.."

Unfortunately the fumes from the incense were starting to affect me too, and I found myself grinning as well.  "What do you think they would do," I giggled, "if I reverted to wolf form?"  This was a real risk as the shapeshifting wasn't entirely automatic.  Yet somehow it didn't seem to matter.. in fact I found the idea more funny than dangerous as the drug began to cloud my senses.

A long-haired man in spectacles and brightly-coloured clothing looked us over and offered another of the incense sticks.  "I'd like you to meet my friend Jakob," said Page.  "he's, like, a wolf."
"Groovy," said the man, his eyes not quite focussing.
"Azrael and I were just wondering what would happen if I stopped being human," I babbled, scanning his mind.  It very difficult, since the haze of the incense was impairing my judgement, and it also meant that his own thought processes were very bizarre.  I did however make out that the drug they were burning was a leaf which they called 'mary', and that small doses had no serious side-effects among humans.  What that meant for Creatures was anybody's guess.

"Wouldn't it be, like, cool, if we were animals?" said one of the others.  He looked rather like a woman, but it didn't fool me for a second.  After all, my sense of smell could tell me things like that instantly, even if I was unable to feel his mind.
"Like, what would you be?" he asked Page.  "Oh, I don't know - what about a leopard?" he said, grinning foolishly, and for a moment I was afraid he would remove his concealment charm or something equally foolhardy.

We talked for a number of hours, the others being too stoned to really pick up on the few times we were in danger of revealing that we were nonhuman.

It seemed that these people had decided to drop out of everyday life, to try and find themselves, living off the land in the process.  Page and I learned a great deal about their philosophy and ideals, which proved quite interesting even though it was in some ways opposed to the technological progress which we had come here in search of.

Not all of these people, who called themselves the Flower Children, seemed entirely convinced of their decision either, at least not deep down, and sadly I wondered how long the movement would last before it disintegrated and all these happy dreamers would wake up, drifting back to the world of hot showers, hot food, and nine-to-five jobs.

Page, however, was enraptured and I could see that although he was still hell-bent on bringing a new technological age to Furrae, his grand plan had just been modified to include bringing back the philosophies which he was absorbing at this very moment.

Of course that was hardly a surprise.  Page had already succeeded in creating a small paradise out of Ha'Khun, a place where Beings and Creatures could live together in harmony.  As an incubus, I had spent some of my life on the run from Beings who believed that the only good 'cubi was one that's dead, and so the way I saw it, a healthy dose of peace and love would do Furrae a world of good.
If what Page was picking up now could help turn all of Furrae into a haven where there would be no more 'cubi witch-hunts, no more eating Beings and no more hatred, then I was all for it.

And so, sitting cross-legged upon the floor with beads around my neck, wrapped up in my own beautiful dreams of love and peace throughout all Furrae, I utterly failed to grasp the significance of the punch which was being shared around the group.


The first sign I knew something was wrong was when I realised that the sky had become green and the grass was blue.  At first I assumed that I had simply fallen over, but the trees were blue as well.  Actually I had fallen over, because the trees were starting to drip down onto the grass.. or was it the sky?  I couldn't be sure.

Picking myself up and looking at Page, I could see his wings, but they weren't the right colour and he was still human.  He was looking at his hand with an expression of sheer awe.  The Flower Children were now pointing at something in the sky which I couldn't see and babbling about electric snakes.
The more I looked at them, the more I noticed that humans actually looked quite a lot like Furrae.  Why hadn't I noticed their cute little muzzles before?  And the reptilian scales and claws on their hands?  Actually, that was quite an interesting combination.  I began to wonder whether it would breed true, when Page suddenly began to sing campfire songs in a high-pitched voice.

I picked myself up again, and realised that my hands felt different.  But no, they were grey and furred as usual.  The Flower Children were all staring at me now, with an expression of happy wonderment.  Damn, that tasted good.  I still had this nagging feeling that there was something wrong, but I couldn't place it.

As the sun was beginning to set, I realised that I could see the end of my muzzle again, and the cool breeze was stirring my feathers.  In a flash I realised that I had reverted to my natural form.  I tried to make myself human again but I couldn't.. it was just too hard.. everything was getting so distant and fluffy.  With an enormous effort, I managed to stand up.  "You know," I said, "I do believe there was some kind of drug in that punch." And that was the last thing I remember.


I awoke underneath the van.  It was fortunate I had managed to crawl there otherwise some early riser walking their dog might have seen me.  My head was pounding, but clear enough to allow me to change back to human.  The Flower Children were totally zonked out, and a quick inspection of their dreams and minds revealed that they remembered my becoming wolf, but had written it off as a trip caused by the LSD which they had put in the punch.

Given the circumstances, I thought it best to examine Page as well.  Physically he was still human, the charm holding out well.  After the last expedition he had made sure to bring more than one in case of emergency, but I was more worried that he had removed it while we were all out of our gourds.

Examining his mind, I found that he seemed to be pretty healthy.  I had picked up from somewhere that this particular drug could cause permanent changes to the user's core personality, but fortunately neither of us had been so affected, possibly because we were both Creatures and thus not entirely biological so far as our metabolisms were concerned.

Time for you to wake up, I thought, and entered his dreams.
Page, in his proper snow leopard form, but with even longer hair and a garland of beads around his neck, was building a small DC motor, an exact duplicate of the one we had seen inside the disk player.  I called out to him.

"Page..." I said.
"Azrael!" he replied.  Perhaps the acid had affected him after all.
"Wake up!  We have to get going!"
"Damn it!  You mean this is just a dream?" he replied, peevishly.
"I'm afraid so.  We're still on Earth, and we'd better get cracking if we're going to make the 9 o'clock portal."
"You're right, let's go." he said, looking forlornly at the tools in his workshop.  Suddenly we were back in the park, and he was opening his human eyes to the world.

As we dusted ourselves off and made to leave, the leader of the Flower Children awoke too.  "You takin' off, man?" he said.
"I'm afraid we must," I replied.  "Thank you very much for the Mary and the punch, and talking things out in general.  It's been very instructive.  But we really do have to go, I'm afraid."
"Well I guess that's cool," he said, "but if you change your mind, we'll be here 'till tomorrow.  There's a Happening at the Naze!"

I didn't stop to find out what he meant by that, but I waved goodbye, Page following groggily.  When we got back to the pier, I put a coin in the turnstile and handed one to Page so that he could enter as well.

At 8:58 by my pocketwatch we were waiting patiently for the Gate to materialise.  At 9 am we were still waiting.  At five past nine, we began to panic.  At ten, there was still no gate, nor any magical residue. 

At twelve noon, we had to face facts.  We were stranded.

Oh...

Oh, my lord...

Wooooowwww...

Too much laughter. I can't form coherent sentences.

Trippin' furrae! You're right-- all these sword-happy heroes could use a dose of acceptance and love.  :P

He, right. This story is always full of surprises. I wonder if the whole 'Azrael' deal will mean something in the future.

why do I suspect they'll run into dr who?

Quote from: Gabi on September 12, 2006, 07:30:06 PM
He, right. This story is always full of surprises. I wonder if the whole 'Azrael' deal will mean something in the future.

Remember this?  http://www.jpmorris.force9.co.uk/music/test/jakob3.txt
It's the draft I sent to Gareeku which he used in Furrae Chronicles.  Those like Drake who seem to be blissfully ignorant of the Johan Cross affair probably don't want to read it - contains spoilers.

I was mortified when Gareeku removed the line 'as the song goes' from Furrae Chronicles, because I'd planned to do this about six months back - even before the rest of his backstory fell into place.

Quote from: GabrielsThoughts on September 12, 2006, 08:36:46 PM
why do I suspect they'll run into dr who?

That's extremely unlikely, since the idea is that they've gone into our past, and Dr. Who isn't actually real in our timeline.
I toyed with the idea of them stealing tapes from the BBC, though.  No-one knows what happened to the last episode of 'tenth planet' - it wasn't listed as being burnt, but it doesn't exist either so someone must have nicked it.

Quote from: Tapewolf on September 13, 2006, 04:49:05 AM

Quote from: Gabi on September 12, 2006, 07:30:06 PM
He, right. This story is always full of surprises. I wonder if the whole 'Azrael' deal will mean something in the future.

Remember this?  http://www.jpmorris.force9.co.uk/music/test/jakob3.txt
It's the draft I sent to Gareeku which he used in Furrae Chronicles.  Those like Drake who seem to be blissfully ignorant of the Johan Cross affair probably don't want to read it - contains spoilers.

I was mortified when Gareeku removed the line 'as the song goes' from Furrae Chronicles, because I'd planned to do this about six months back - even before the rest of his backstory fell into place.

Ah... right. Sorry, I hadn't seen the text file before. I did read Gareeku's version, but it wasn't so clear there. Thanks.

Chapter 7

"Okay Az," I said.  "So, we're stuck.  All we need to do is find somewhere nice and quiet to summon a gate manually, right?"

"It's not quite that simple," said Azrael.  "It's been a while since I've had to do it, but I should be able to get back into it.  The big problem is that my gates are produced by harnessing the physical properties of a certain kind of rock.  We'll have to find some and puck it into just the right configuration.  Either that, or we look for an inactive gate that someone else has made and try to make it work."

"And how are we going to find one of those?" I said.

"We'll have to ask in the library.  Stone circles and that kind of thing.  Humans don't use magic so they probably don't know much about dimensional gateways.  An active gateway would have a reputation of being haunted.
Failing that, Warp-Aci are able to cross dimensional boundaries, although it takes a lot of coaxing from what I've heard." he looked at me expectantly with a raised eyebrow.

"Gah," I said.  "Forget it!  I know some people think they're for girls, and frankly I don't care about that, but have you ever met one of those irritating little beasts?  You can sit there in the dark for four days and nights or more, concentrating on the spell of summoning, and what do you get out of it?  A whiny little nuisance that's wholly dependent on you for the rest of your life.
They're always eating, and they don't necessarily care whose food they take, I might add.  Started a lot of arguments at SAIA, I can tell you.
"And supposing it doesn't want to take us home, or can't?  After all, we'll have a big problem explaining to it which plane we came from in the first place.  We'll then be stuck with a glowing black thing, the likes of which the humans have never seen and never will see in the normal course of things.  What could we do with it?  Disguise it as a dog?"

"Okay, fair enough.  We'll keep that as a last resort, but we might have to reconsider it if we have no luck with the gates."

"Sure," I said.  "But we aren't going to be able to do the dimensional gate thing in a hurry either, so whatever we do we'll need to set up for an indefinite stay in the human realm.  First and foremost, money.

"We've got some gold, and we can create more if need be.  With a bit of effort I could probably fabricate some duplicate coins too, but for now we'll have to pawn off the gold.  We'll also need to buy some provisions.  Let's do that and then check the library."

"Where are we going to stay?" said Azrael.  "I don't know about you, but sleeping under a pier doesn't sound like fun to me."

"Well," I said with a grin, "many human youths are going back to nature, so if two more 'drop out' as well, we'll hardly be noticed, right?  That Wilson guy offered to take us to some kind of ceremony, and I think we should accept that offer if it still stands.  It might lead us to a commune or some other group which would take us, give us a base to work from.  Just as long as we don't touch the punch.

"But anyway, let's do the shopping run first."

We exchanged the remainder of our gold for money.  I did this alone and disguised as another human, while Azrael went to the library.  In the shops I bought some human shampoo for myself, since I could maintain my human form indefinitely.  Azrael's charm was a combination of psychic and illusory magic, so that it would fool both people and optical devices alike, but it also meant that he still had his fur underneath the projection and that gave him slightly different needs.

I bought some anti-flea shampoo intended for cats, some milk and a selection of pet food.  Hoping that it would be digestible, I got him tinned meat and dried cat biscuits, but I was unable to resist the aroma and also bought some dog biscuits and rawhide chews for myself.
Carrying a brown paper bag with the shopping, I headed to the library where Azrael was waiting for me outside.  "Any joy?" I asked.

"Not really.  We're in the wrong part of the country.  There simply aren't any stone circles in the whole of the east coast!
Now, there is a large, famous circle in Wiltshire.  I've seen pictures of it, both photographs and artist's impressions of how it might have been.  I'm not honestly sure what it is, though.  If it ever was a dimensional gate, it must have been quite some nexus point, but we won't really be able to tell unless we can get to it, and it's nearly two hundred miles away."

Page and I scratched our heads about the journey for a while.  The train was a possibility except for the unfortunate fact that Stonehenge was in the middle of absolutely nowhere and we would need to obtain a lift from someone with a powered vehicle, or 'car' as they were known.  Eventually we decided that we should try to attend Wilson's ceremony, and if we could find someone willing and able to take us to the Henge, so much the better.

We sat with the Flower People, a faint aroma of Mary filling the air once again.  This time Azrael and myself had got wise so we politely declined any offer of food and drink - besides we had enough pet food to go on anyway.
As it happened this caution proved unnecessary, since the Flower People were going to head out to The Naze later on for their ceremony, and even they were not going to drive under the influence of LSD.  So we just sat and talked again about their philosophies of experimentation, peace and free love.
And it was this talk of free love which triggered a memory, long hidden now.  My thoughts freed up by the Mary, I suddenly recalled the first time I'd practiced the 'cubi charm in the world outside.

It was a few months before I'd met Azrael, and I was sitting in a tavern where a shapely vixen of my apparent age was sat.  After probing her mind briefly, I strode into the restroom and made a few subtle changes to bring myself more in line with her expectations before sitting down next to her with a charming smile.

Let's just say it worked.

Later that night, the pair of us lay in a contented sleep.  Chelsea was, at least, but I was in a slightly different state, invisibly strolling through her dreams as my body remained motionless in the bed next to hers.
Suddenly a female hare grabbed hold of her from behind, which puzzled me for a moment, until I suddenly realised that the newcomer was a succubus, intruding upon the vixen's dreams and most likely after her soul.  Chelsea yelped and tried to twist herself free, but the succubus held her fast.  Her dreams were now lucid, meaning that she would be able to interact with them, and us too.

"Let her go," I said forcefully, suddenly becoming visible to both of them.  "I was here first - this one's mine!"  As I said this, my back and headwings reappeared, along with four snarling, wolf-headed tentacles.  The succubus dropped Chelsea and responded in kind.


At SAIA we had been taught ways of manipulating a Being's dreamspace, for recreational purposes, to aid in generating emotions and as part of the stereotypical 'cubi attack of stealing someone's soul in their sleep.
There were a number of friendly Beings on campus for us to practice dreamspace manipulation in, and I had become quite good at it.  Although there were rarely disputes over prey, it was a possibility, particularly with a rogue 'cubi and so we were taught how to fight in dreamspace as well.
This had given rise to 'Dreamwars', where competing 'cubi would battle for dominance inside a sleeper's mind.

Although the act of self-defence in dreamspace was grudgingly accepted as a necessary part of the course, the Dreamwar championships were frowned upon since the loser was usually left in a mild coma unless they surrendered first.  This meant that they were more-or-less an underground activity, so finding a volunteer dreamer to play in was not easy.

Usually a play area was obtained by bribing one of the Beings or finding a young 'cubi who still had the ability to dream on demand.  At a pinch, some of the more uncouth 'cubi had been known to cast Stun on an unsuspecting fellow student, but this was highly undesirable since people do not dream while unconscious which left a black, empty and boring dreamspace to play in.  More to the point, casting Stun within SAIA was a severe breach of the rules and Fa'lina would get extremely angry when she found out.


"I must warn you, I'm a former champion at Dreamwar," I pointed out.
"So am I", she smirked.  This was not so good.

Run, I thought at Chelsea.  This was easier in dreamspace, since I was already inside her mind.  To send telepathic messages to Beings in the real world took a certain amount of effort.  The succubus and I chased each other through the vixen's dreamspace, apparently the village she used to live in as a cub.  We both had clubs which we'd found lying around in the village and we faced each other off with these.  Suddenly I threw mine at her, morphing it into a spear as it flew.

We were both a little rusty and this caught her off-guard.  She pulled the spear from her heart, blazing with rage and came at me with her tentacles.

I dived into the house behind me and hid around the corner, striking her head with a cooking implement as she entered.  Stupid, I would have looked first with my tentacles.  The hare lay there, and I went to examine her, but it was a feint and her tentacles suddenly tore through my chest.  This was it - only while you were physically penetrating your opponent were you able to get through their mental shield and forcibly banish them from the dreamspace.  This was doubly bad because when she had finished with me, she was going to eat Chelsea's soul.

Just as I was about to black out, I suddenly noticed the hare's eyes go wide with astonishment - Chelsea had put a cooking knife in the back of her neck.  This distracted the succubus long enough for me to pierce her, and I also managed to steal a chunk of her energy to revive myself.  Chelsea kept attacking the succubus with whatever she had to hand and thanks to this combined attack I was quickly able to smash her out of the vixen's dream.  She fell to the ground and faded away.

Panting, I looked up to see how Chelsea was doing, and was surprised to see that she was now waving the knife at me, her eyes narrowed with hate.
"Get back!" she yelled.  "Keep away from me, you monster!  You demon filth!"

"Put it down," I said softly, and turned my appearance back into the Being I had pretended to be.  She became less tense, but kept the knife.  With a sigh, I clicked my fingers and the weapon was suddenly at her feet.

"You're an incubus," she snarled defiantly, retrieving the knife once more.  "You came to seduce me.. to.. to devour my soul, while I was sleeping!  And I fell for it!" 

"No," I said, and sat down on the bed behind me with a sad, tired expression.  "I came for your companionship.  If I wanted to eat your soul, I could do so right now, and there is nothing you would be able to do that could possibly stop me.  But I don't want it.

"Power games do not interest me, lady.  I have at least twenty-five centuries left to me, just by feeding from emotions.  Perhaps in two thousand years time, if I live that long, I will begin to feel that my own life is worth murdering others to prolong.. but not now, not yet.

"Yes, I came to seduce you.  I had hoped that perhaps we could even marry.  I could have been a Being for you, kept myself in disguise until death did us part.  I wouldn't have been the first 'cubi to do that, either.  I could have guarded your life with mine - no other Creature would have dared to attack you.  But I don't see that happening anymore.  Perhaps I should never have tried."

I sighed again and rose.  Chelsea's face had changed from hatred and terror to something more like pity, but there was no going back now.

"I am going to leave you in peace.  I see now that I could never have revealed my true self to you.  And with that in mind, I can't ask you to love me.  But I do bid you remember that I saved your soul's life this night.  Sweet dreams."  And with that, I faded from her dreams.

Back in reality, I awoke.  The Succubus was lying unconscious under the bed so I dragged her out and stole one of her gold bracelets.  Having first made sure that it was free of any charms or curses, I left it on the bed beside the still-sleeping Chelsea as something for her to remember me by - or sell - as she saw fit.
This done, I carried the succubus' unconscious form down to the empty tavern, and walked off into the night.  Our clans were bitter enemies, but despite that and the crimes she had committed against Beings, I did not want her death on my conscience.  Deep in the woods I left her by a spring, before carrying on in the direction of the path which would ultimately lead me to Ha'Khun.


"You alright, man?" said a voice beside me.
"I must have drifted off," I replied, looking up to see Azrael lying in the grass with a reefer and Wilson shaking my arm.  "thanks for waking me."
"We're about ready to leave for the Happening, man." he said.

Real nice

Very entertaining, I love the concept of dreamspace manipulation.

A small edit: Did you mean, 'I left it on the bed beside the still-sleeping Chelsea?'

Quote from: Hilary on September 30, 2006, 09:52:07 PM
Very entertaining, I love the concept of dreamspace manipulation.

Yeah, Aary does that to Merlitz when she changes his sword into toast, so they're obviously taught to do that kind of thing.  The whole 'Dreamwar' concept sort of followed on from there.  Dreamwar has probably been superceded by video games nowadays :)

QuoteA small edit: Did you mean, 'I left it on the bed beside the still-sleeping Chelsea?'

Yes, that's done.  "puck it into the right configuration" is actually a mistake, but it sounded so lovely that I left it in - I have a penchant for creating new verbs.

I think my favourite bits in this one are where Jakob lists the drawbacks of Warp Acis, and the various ways they get venues to play Dreamwar in.

Chapter 8

The Naze turned out to be a grassy peninsula on the coast, about eight miles east of Clacton.  This would have been a few hours' walk, but we were able to hitch a ride with Wilson and the other Flower Children in their camper van.

The van was the end-product of nearly 70 years research and development into griffinless carriages, and I was quite impressed with its design.  I could feel that Azrael too would have been just as eager to strip the machine down to its component parts for analysis, save for the slightly inconvenient fact that this would have proved somewhat distressing to our only allies on the planet.

"Never mind," I whispered, "I'm sure we can find a scrapyard or something before we leave."

The Happening turned out to be rather different from what I'd expected.  Not that I was too sure what to expect in the first place, mind you.  I had been half-anticipating some bizarre rituals and sacrifices to nameless dark gods, something which the librarian had suspected the Flower-Children of doing, but I saw now that this was simply a case of her fearing what she did not understand.

Far from being a religious ceremony, it was a half-organised gathering of like-minded individuals to partake in a festival of music, poetry and similar arts.  Many of these individuals, I discovered, came from the local academy known as the University of Essex.  I resolved to learn more about this place, since if we were going to be here for an extended amount of time, getting enrolled would be a fine way to learn more about this place, to say nothing of its technology.

As it drew towards early evening, the haze of Mary increased and eventually the performances ceased.  No-one showed any signs of leaving and besides, we didn't really have a place to go to anyway, so we just went with the flow, lying in the grass on a warm summer evening.

I was watching someone with one of the portable magnetic recorders, listening to the recording, a very strange song about someone called 'Alice' who apparently consumed some rather dangerous substances and had a series of extremely bad experiences.  It only occurred to me afterwards that dormice were unable to speak in this realm.

As the song ended, I turned back to see Azrael talking to a newcomer.  She was drawing a curious diagram on a piece of paper.

"What's this?" I asked.

"It's a horror-scope," Azrael replied.  "It is supposed to predict key events in my life."

"Horoscope," the woman corrected irritably.  I nodded respectfully, wondering how its predictions compared to the phoenix oracles back home.  It was quite an irritating experience talking to them, since although they invariably knew the true answer to any question you put to them, they were oath-bound not to tell you in any straightforward manner.

Some of the more enterprising 'cubi would accompany you to the temple for a considerable fee and ask the question on your behalf.  Using their mental powers and a large amount of cunning they could phrase the question in such a way that they could trap the oracles into providing enough truth that they could recover the rest in hints from the oracles' emotions and stray thoughts.
In earlier times, a 'cubi could simply have read the answer straight out of the oracles' mind, but they had grown wise to that and embarked on an extensive program of training in mental shielding.  In some of my less-charitable moments I occasionally wondered if their confused thoughts really were shielding or simply the product of a deranged mind.

Meanwhile, the woman was looking at her diagram with a furrowed brow.  I could see that she had already erased some of the diagram and redrawn parts of it.  Eventually she stood up.  "I have never come across one like it," she announced.  "But from what I can see, you should be very wary of capricorns. I fear that one shall bring you great tragedy, although I cannot interpret what I am seeing, so I cannot tell you when this will be."

For comparison, she cast one for me as well.  Reading Azrael's mind I saw that he had given his age as a percentage since humans, like Beings, generally had a maximum lifespan of around 100 years.  I did the same, and a few minutes later the woman had cast my horoscope also.
Birthdays are an interesting topic among Creatures, on account of the fact that they have so many.  As 'cubi grow past the usual span of their Being brethren, many of them - like me - gradually become tired of celebrating their birthday annually.  At this point in time, I was celebrating decades of my life - nowadays I tend to ignore anything less than centuries.

The woman was pondering her horoscope again and muttering to herself.  I could see in her mind that she was itching to know where we both came from to give such peculiar results in her casting.  Suddenly she gave a gasp, and after a few moments to collect herself, began to give her prophecy.

"I see that your life will be forever changed by a terrible event.  It will  happen on the same day as your tragedy.." she added, looking at Azrael.  Taking back his horoscope, she compared them.
"I think I see now.  I fear that this event may well bring about the end of your life, Mr. Page.  Mr. Cross will outlive you, but the manner of your passing will change him considerably, and not for the good."

"Do you suppose there's any truth in that?"  I asked Azrael afterwards.  "She made it sound like I'm going to murder you.  I mean, it can't be a true prophecy, right?  Humans don't even have magic."

"You never know," he replied.  "she might have the Gift. She could even have been leaching our magic in order to see the future."

"Come now," I said, feeling slightly hurt.  "what could I possibly want to kill you over?  I already have a free hand in the rule of your kingdom."

"Jakob, my trust in you thus far as been well-founded.  I have no fear whatsoever that you would turn on me for no reason.  Besides which, the seer claimed that it would be a capricorn who does me over - you're a virgo."

Feeling slightly cheered by that remark, I followed Azrael to the car-park where some enterprising soul had set up a mobile kitchen inside their van, evidently modified to that particular purpose.
From this vehicle he was selling cooked sausages to hungry Flower-Children, those who still ate meat at any rate.  He reacted rather badly when Azrael asked for six raw hotdogs each, but eventually consented to sell them, albeit cooked.

I wasn't actually feeling very hungry at the time, having gorged myself on the emotions felt by the horde of Flower Children during the Happening, but the food did smell nice, so I ate a couple of mine, and offered the rest of mine to Wilson, as a token of appreciation for his generosity.

"What are your plans, man?" he asked.

"Well, we were intending to sail abroad," I said - it was half-right anyway - "..but we missed our one chance to make the boat.  So right now, we're open to suggestions.  We have a bit of bread and we should be get enough to live by, but right now we're just going to chill out, and go search for ourselves," I finished, pulling the lingo from his mind.

"Well, we're planning to split in a few days, man." he said.  "It's gonna be the equinox soon, and Stonehenge is where it's at."

Page sat bolt upright, an almost palpable look of excitement filling his eyes.  The wave of anticipation was so intense that it distracted me for a moment, but I recovered and chose my words carefully.

"Page and I would be very interested in seeing this monument," I said slowly.  "In fact it is the one place we would like to visit most since we missed our boat.  We were actually trying to figure out how to get there by rail, man.  But that would have been a real heavy journey."

"That's cool," he said.  "We got room to spare in the van."

At first I had wondered what it was that Wilson and his friends were getting in return.  As the journey unfolded, it turned out that they were interested in our company, and any interesting tales we could tell them.  There were a good many which I was happy to share, although I had to be careful to relate them in terms of men and women, constantly having to remember not to say 'dog' or 'vixen' by mistake.

The van broke down in a country lane, which left us in something of a predicament since we had no way of signalling for help.  Fortunately, despite having never seen a four-stroke engine before I was able to deduce the principles through examination and reading the minds of all present.

The problem was actually quite minor - moisture had broken contact within the power distributor.  By dismantling and cleaning it we had the van working once more, but it was dark before we had the system operating again.

Page was a little tired, and suggested that we call it a night.  Wilson became frantic at this suggestion.  "We have to be there before dawn, man!" he protested, and so we drove on through the night.
I used my power to help prevent him becoming too tired to drive properly, and we made it mere minutes before dawn.

Azrael, Wilson and I stood among an exultant crowd of Flower Children, freaks and people who claimed to be druids, standing in awe as the sun rose through the stones.  Azrael in particular was so tense his fur was standing on end, although the humans could not see this, fortunately.

Finally, as the moment reached its climax, he reached out and touched one of the stones.  Suddenly he let out an absolutely unbelievable cry and then curled up into a little ball on the ground.  Everyone was looking at us, Wilson included.

"Be cool people, he's just had a bad trip," I said, and they all looked away again.
Page was crying as I approached him.  "It's not a gate," he said, tearfully.

Aww, there, there, Azrael... *pats his back* (Horror-scope is more fitting. D:)

Once again, nothing but praise, man. ^^

This made me want hot dogs. Yummeh.

Quote from: Hilary on October 15, 2006, 06:11:43 PM
Aww, there, there, Azrael... *pats his back* (Horror-scope is more fitting. D:)

I had an.. aunt(?)* who was heavily into astrology.  She cast a horoscope for me when I was born, and accurately predicted that I would not get along with my mother.  I doubt she had the power to predict our deaths, though.  In any case, those horoscopes have long since been lost.  She is now a lesbian Buddhist, or so I've heard.  You just don't want to pry into things like that. D:

If anyone's curious, you can find The Naze on Google Earth.  "the naze, uk" will work as a search query.  It's rather fuzzy but it is there.  I've got a stack of photos of the place too, I might put some of those up on my new photobucket thing if I can be bothered to scan them in.
And thanks go to my father, who is no doubt wondering why I've been grilling him on what Essex was like in 1968 :P

QuoteOnce again, nothing but praise, man.

Not one of my best efforts, but it keeps the story ticking over.

QuoteThis made me want hot dogs. Yummeh.

Yeah, I almost cooked one, but decided it wasn't a good idea at 10pm.

---

*My family is extremely strange, primarily owing to my great-grandfather, an insane genius who among other things designed the seat-liferafts still in use on most ferries today.  He also sired about 10 love-children during the closing years of Victoria's reign and then went on a great crusade against vice and sin on the grounds that he'd tried it and it wasn't all it was cracked up to be.  This aforementioned vice and sin has left parts of the family tree in a somewhat abnormal state, hence my confusion about her actual relationship to me.  We call her 'aunt' because it's easier than trying to work it out.

There's just one point I'd like to mention...

I was under the impression that the oath that the phoenix oracles take is kept more or less hidden, as part of it - ie, they give cryptic answers because they give cryptic answers, and that's just the way things are... but if you were one of them, you'd understand that they're oath-bound to give cryptic answers, and not to tell anyone of the oath, and the rason for it is, if people understand too much of the prediction, they'll change too much of it, and create a paradox, as it were, making it much much harder to predict. At least, that's the usual reason given for cryptical answers...


more conversation can be supplied, if you want to chat about it, but this probably isn't the place :-)

Quote from: Tapewolf on October 15, 2006, 06:34:09 PM
*... then went on a great crusade against vice and sin on the grounds that he'd tried it and it wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

That's hysterical. :-)

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on October 15, 2006, 06:40:05 PM
There's just one point I'd like to mention...

I was under the impression that the oath that the phoenix oracles take is kept more or less hidden, as part of it - ie, they give cryptic answers because they give cryptic answers, and that's just the way things are... but if you were one of them, you'd understand that they're oath-bound to give cryptic answers, and not to tell anyone of the oath, and the reason for it is, if people understand too much of the prediction, they'll change too much of it, and create a paradox, as it were, making it much much harder to predict. At least, that's the usual reason given for cryptical answers...

True, although in all honesty I'm not sure whether they really do see the future or are simply clairvoyant.  When Aary sees them she's asking about what is, not what will be.

As for the oath being secret, I'm assuming that some 'cubi read about it before they got the mind-reading lockdown sorted out.

Quotemore conversation can be supplied, if you want to chat about it, but this probably isn't the place :-)

If you want to discuss it in depth, email is fine.

Quote

Quote from: Tapewolf on October 15, 2006, 06:34:09 PM
*... then went on a great crusade against vice and sin on the grounds that he'd tried it and it wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

That's hysterical. :-)

Yeah.. it's so outlandish you just couldn't make this stuff up.  I just wish I'd been able to record some of the dinner-time conversations where parts of it came out.  That really was hysterical.  I think I've done a reasonably good job of summarising it. >:3

The most incredible thing is that he went around doing things it was forbidden to even discuss and yet somehow made himself into a highly respected pillar of society.
"..and so when she married, it made the front page in the local paper.  And it didn't say 'bastard gets married', it made a big fuss about how she was the daughter of the illustrious Mr. Love.. " -- fragment of said dinner-time conversation..

Aah!  Off-topic!

Quote from: Tapewolf on October 15, 2006, 07:23:37 PM

Quotemore conversation can be supplied, if you want to chat about it, but this probably isn't the place :-)

If you want to discuss it in depth, email is fine.

Not especially :-) It was more a "well, here's a few thoughts, and if you want to chase them up, perhaps see if something percolates and generates a more interesting story, whilst papering over the possible hole" sort of thing.

If you do, pm me, it'll email me, and I'll email you back. (I get ~80 or so spams a day, and rising fast, so I'm kinda paranoid about putting my email address out there on websites. :-/ )

Chapter 9

At first I feared that the shock of Azrael's discovery, which he had pinned so much hope on, would plunge him into a chronic depression.  Indeed, he was rather sullen for rest of the day, although by morning he had begun to take an interest in things again.

Wilson had no real plans of his own, other than to travel around the country, and we tentatively revealed to him that we were searching for a very specific monument.  It turned out that he believed in some rather peculiar magical phenomena, such as the ability of pyramids to sharpen razorblades so he fairly quickly deduced that we were searching for a rock with special mystical vibrations.  A rather shrewd guess, all told.

With this in mind, he was happy to help us in our quest and proved a most valuable ally.  Stopping at the nearby city of Salisbury, Azrael and I played tourist for a bit, exploring a magnificent church known as Salisbury Cathedral.  I was astonished to learn that the priests worshipped the same god as the congregation where I grew up, although they did not call themselves 'The Church of Christ the Human' for fairly obvious reasons.

I also managed to purchase a UHER 4000 magnetic recorder and some tapes for it, two of which had pre-recorded material on them, the rest of which were empty.  Foolishly I left it in the van while purchasing some more food.  By the time I returned, Azrael had removed the the back cover and was spinning the large central flywheel with his finger.  He would probably have had the entire machine in pieces if I had not rescued it from his clutches.

After some further study at the local library, Azrael and I had produced another shortlist of monuments which could possibly be dimensional gates.  With Wilson's aid, we drove around the country checking them out.
We did actually find one, which caused Azrael to become excited, but it was pretty far gone and a number of stones had been removed.  We made a note of it, intending to return if we had no further success.  With some work, we might be able to reactivate it, although since some of the missing stones had apparently been broken up and used for houses or walls, it was only a slightly better proposition than summoning a Warp-Aci.

Our journeying was interrupted late one evening in August when a news broadcast came through on Wilson's radio which caused him a great deal of concern.  Apparently a nuclear submarine named HMS Resolution was going to be docking at a port in a place known as Barrow.  Since it was still fairly new there were some teething troubles and the machine was going to undergo a minor overhaul in the shipyard where it was assembled over the course of about three years, to the consternation of many.

On hearing this, Wilson became frantic and decided that we had to go there immediately to protest against it.  I was not sure why at the time, but I cautioned Azrael to be quiet.  Since it was fairly late, Wilson was already a little drowsy so we pulled up by a stream somewhere in the north of a place called Wales and camped for the night.

While Wilson slept, I probed his mind and reported what I could see to Page.  I made sure that he was asleep while we spoke - it would prevent him from hearing us, and it also allowed me to go a lot further into his sleeping mind than would have been possible with him awake.

"It seems that the humans have harnessed a great source of power," I said.  "If I didn't know better I'd say it was magic.  Apparently there are certain kinds of rock, which, when purified, release energy.  If you bring several pieces of the rock together it will generate an enormous amount of energy.
But this energy is poisonous and destroys life.  The residue will remain dangerous for thousands and thousands of years.  People are concerned about this since it will generate a lot of waste which they don't know what to do with, and also because if there is an accident, the poison could be spread over a large area."

"That doesn't sound too bad," said Azrael.  "All they need to do is get a dragon to look after this waste..  Oh.  No dragons."

"There's more," I said.  "They have also discovered that if you bring the pieces of rock together in the right way it will cause an explosion large enough to vapourise an entire city and turn an area the size of Zinvth and Armansta combined into a poisonous wasteland.  Wilson has seen some film of the results.  It's very, very bad stuff."

Azrael was silent for a few moments.  "And this 'submarine' thing has something to do with this energy source?"

"Yes.  They call it 'nuclear energy' or 'atomic power'.  The poison is called 'radiation' and appears to be an uncontrolled emission of dangerous energy.  You know, it's starting to come back to me now.  I read a few things about this in the encyclopedia, but it didn't make sense at the time.

"Anyway.  The HMS Resolution is a warship in the rough shape of a whale which is completely enclosed and able to sail beneath the water, where it can go undetected.
This particular machine does two things which upset Wilson and his friends. Firstly, it uses a nuclear power source to drive all its systems, and secondly, it is armed with atomic weapons, the ones which can vapourise cities."

"But why?"  Azrael was aghast. "What are they fighting against that would need that much death?  Demons?  'cubi?  Dragons?  A Fae gone rogue?"

"No, just other humans.  They call them the Russians, and they call themselves the 'Free West'.  Both sides have these terrible weapons and each side is afraid that the other will use them first.  The populace has either gone into a state of quiet resignation of their impending doom, or has determined to enjoy life while they can.  I think you can tell which group Wilson falls into.

"There's one other thing," I continued. "These Russians have apparently infiltrated the Free West with spies who disguise themselves as Free Westians but may suddenly cause chaos or something when they receive the appropriate  signal from their controllers.
It seems we were lucky with the gold.. the Free Westians are on the lookout for unusual behaviour and may have reported us as suspected agents of the Russia.  I didn't see anything in anyones' mind at the time, but we could easily have got into real trouble."

"These humans are bat-shit crazy." said Azrael.  "Um, anyway.  So where is this Barrow place?"

"Somewhere north of here, I think.  We'll have to ask Wilson when he wakes."

We were somewhere around Barrow on the edge of the coastline when the drugs began to take hold.  The van careened off the road with enough force to take it over the concrete barrier, smashing the suspension and into the sea leaving a trail of Volkswagen-branded parts in its wake.  The only thing I remember after that was waking up in a prison cell with Azrael and Wilson, but as I listened with my mind, I could hear the thoughts of the chief policemen in the room above.

He was composing the charge sheet in his head.  They were going to bust us for possession of the illegal drugs in Wilson's stash, probably with intent to sell, as said stash was quite considerable.  They hadn't worked out where I had managed to get all the gold from, or why I had an opened pack of rawhide dog-chews in my backpack, but he was assuming it was in some way drug-related.  One of the chews had been sent off for analysis.

They had also taken my UHER, the portable record player and our notes on the stone circles, which the chief was convinced was where we were meeting to sell our ill-gotten wares.  Fortunately they had not taken Azrael's charm, or all kinds of savage hell would have broken loose when he reverted to feline form.  Nonetheless, he looked very pale.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"You remember that conversation we had last night?  About the submarine?" he replied.

"Ye-ee-ss.." I said slowly, although I knew what was coming.

"I recorded it," he said.

I was silent for a few moments, as all our plans of quietly exiting from this world suddenly vanished in a puff of Mary.  "Well, then," I concluded, "We shall have to leave.  We simply cannot allow them to play that back."

Wilson looked extremely alarmed.  "Are you dudes.."

"..Spies?" I said.  "No.  But I'm not sure you'd believe me if I told you the truth anyway.  Certainly I don't know what they'd make of it, but I don't intend to find out.  It's so far outside their experience that they'd probably assume we were spies anyway."

"What are you going to do, then?"  said Azrael.  "Warp-Aci?"

"No!" I replied.  "I told you, they take days to summon and anyway, seeing that would make the contents of the tape seem like a cub's bed-time story by comparison."  Wilson's eyes bulged, but I ignored him.

"We're in trouble.  Whatever we do will leave some evidence, but perhaps I can minimise it."  I moved towards the cell door.

As a cub, Izak and I had been quite proficient with magic, far more so than a regular Being, and this might have tipped us off that we were 'cubi and not simply a hybrid of wolf and phoenix as we had first assumed.  Among the spells which I had in my admittedly small repertoire were a few which could be used to levitate rocks and move other small objects.

I pressed my hand against the lock, which glowed faintly and the bolt slowly began to withdraw.  A little while later it became stuck.  My hand glowed brightly and the bolt suddenly shot back with a most unpleasant sound as the metal within the lock sheared.  "Oops," I said.  Wilson said nothing, but his face had turned the same colour as Page's fur.

"Wait here," I said and crept out.  Unfortunately I didn't have the ability to make myself invisible at the time, but I was able to use my 'cubi shapeshifting powers to blend myself in with the wall.  This helped as long as I moved slowly.

Suddenly one of the policemen saw me.  Then his eyes took on a glazed look and he slumped to the ground.  I propped him in a chair and crept upstairs, hunting for the police chief's mind.  Several more policemen saw me and they too fell - in a world devoid of mindreaders, they had not evolved any kind of mental shielding.

I would have done the same thing to the police chief, but unfortunately I needed to know where our possessions were.  So I knocked, entered and said "Excuse me, sir, can I have my tape recorder back, please?"

"You!" he exclaimed, and pressed a button sounding an alarm.  "How did you get out of your cell?"

"Magic," I replied.  "Now please, give back my recorder."

In my mind I felt another policeman about to enter the room.  All the police chief heard was a muted thump as he fell to the ground as well.

"All your staff are unconscious now, so you're on your own," I said, starting to lose patience.  "Now give me the recorder.. I don't want to have to hurt you."

"No," he replied and drew out a small black object with a protrusion from his belt.  Very quickly he pointed it at me and with a loud retort there was a sudden, intense pain in my arm.
I screamed, not a human scream, but a feral one, a howl of primal rage and pain.  My tentacles sliced through the metal of the weapon, removing the tips of his fingers.  Reverting from the shock of the pain, he saw me in my true form, managing to utter the words "..what are you..?" before he too crumpled and fell.

Sadly for him it was not a clean, precise edit like the others.  A wounded 'cubi does not usually do a good job.  We later found that it took him a month to awake from the coma.

Shutting off the alarm, I found some bandages and wrapped them around my arm.  Unfortunately Wilson entered the room at that moment and promptly became the second human to see me in my true form before I was able to shapeshift back.  I ate his terror which helped to speed up the healing process considerably and also left him relatively placid.

We searched the police station and found the tapes, the recorder and various other things including the stolen library books which we had actually come for.  Unfortunately there was too much for us to carry without the van, so we had to leave most of Wilson's stash.  Realising that, he had immediately gone for the marijuana again although to his credit, it made his nerves a lot steadier.
Taking the pieces of the chief's weapon, I put them and the remains of my gold into a briefcase, having tipped the prior contents onto the floor.  At that point we were able to leave the station.

No explanation was ever offered for our mysterious arrest and breakout.  Since we were high at the time they never got our names and with no witnesses who could remember the event at all, the incident was explained away as the result of some weird drug in Wilson's stash and quietly forgotten.

As we crossed the street, I suddenly realised that I no longer had the charm which Fa'lina had given me to return to SAIA.

"What..?" screamed Azrael, "you mean you could have taken us back to the Academy all this time?!?"

"My Gods, Page!" I exploded, "Don't you think I already tried that?  It's dead as stone!  But assuming we get back to Furrae, I would very much like to keep all my options open!"

The fumes from Wilson's Mary gradually began to calm our tattered nerves, and we trudged back towards the small town of Ulveston, where the van had been wrecked during Wilson's ill-advised experiment to see whether acid would improve his driving skills.  The last time I had removed my shirt had been in that van, so the necklace had to be inside it.

"Hey, Cross, man, can I ask.. like, what are you?"
These were the first coherent words which Wilson had uttered since our escape from the cell, when his already strange life had suddenly been turned inside-out.

"Okay, Wilson," I started, "I feel guilty that we've dragged you into this mess, so I guess you deserve the truth.  This is going to be quite a head-trip, I'm afraid.  Are you up to it?"  He nodded.

Taking a deep breath, I began.  "Myself and Page - or Azrael as he prefers to be called - are magical creatures from another dimension.  I have the ability to change form and read minds."  I ignored the bit about being able to steal and eat people's souls as he clearly wasn't ready for that.

"We come from a society which is rather backwards compared to yours, and so we travelled here to learn of your technology in the hopes that it could improve our own world.  Unfortunately we became trapped, and since that morning in Clacton we have been examining various ancient monuments in the hopes that we can find an abandoned but working transdimensional gate and reactivate it."

He nodded again.  "So what are the people like back on your world?"

"Well, unlike yours there are many different types of us.  You only seem to have humans as the sole intelligent race - for us, there are no humans and we are different kinds of animal.  You saw that I am a winged wolf.  Page here is a snow leopard.  His race can't shapeshift, so he relies on a magical charm to conceal himself.  If we find a secluded spot, he can probably show you if you like."

Wilson shook his head vigorously.

"I understand," I said.  "You know, I didn't know I was a shapeshifter at first.  It came as quite a shock, especially when I discovered that I would live to be maybe three thousand years old..."

"How old are you now?" he asked.

"Around 410," I said.  "You tend to lose track after the first hundred years... you start thinking in decades instead."

The police had had some difficulty removing the van, so it was still more-or-less where we had left it, but they had taken up where the sea couldn't reach it.  Sending the police men left to guard it to sleep, we entered the van and I quickly found my precious necklace, along with a few other oddments which I was reluctant to leave.

As we left the van, Page - having acute vision - caught sight of something on a nearby hill.  He sniffed twice, and began to get quite excited, just as he had at stonehenge and when we found the defunct gate in Monmouth.

"It's a gate!" he cried.  "I tell you it's a gate.  I can feel its energy.  Wilson, do you know what that hill is?"

"I dunno, man," Wilson replied.  "It's a common.. I went there last year after the protest when the Resolution was launched.  You know... there is a stone circle up there.  Called the Druid's Temple, I think.  Someone did feel some good vibes when we were up there before, man.  I thought they just had some good grass, though."

Strangely, as we approached the circle, Page became less tense and more businesslike.  He was utterly convinced of the gate, and I was dreading what he might do if it proved to be another failure.   Nervously I took one of the dog chews and munched at it as he set to work.

"The circle has been damaged," he said, "but I think I can compensate for it." so saying, he searched for a particular piece of rock, eventually taking one from a dry stone wall and placing it upon the ground in the centre of the circle.

"I must warn you, this is going to be a little different to the gates we've used before," he added and as his hands glowed, the rock began to rotate slowly , and then gained speed.  As it rose into the air, the ground in the circle began to glow faintly and then became brighter and brighter until finally the Gate was there in all its glory, blue as the morning sky.

"Well," he said to a stunned-looking Wilson, "I guess this is goodbye.  We're extremely grateful for everything you have done, both to help us find out way back and to help us understand your world's culture."
Azrael gave him the briefcase full of of gold as a parting gift and we shook hands, but there was a funny light in his eyes.  The Mary made it a little hard to read his mind so I couldn't see why at the time.

Page and I held hands and jumped into the Gate.  The transition was a little unfortunate since our gate was horizontal and the receiving gate was vertical, so we landed on our asses.. all three of us.

"Oh dear," I said, looking at Wilson.
"You can say that again," said Azrael, but he was looking at the three weasel guards pointing their halberds at us.

Hahaha... I love Wilson. (For some reason, I keep thinking about that volleyball in Castaway...)

Quote from: Tapewolf on October 24, 2006, 09:02:10 PM
"Um, anyway.  So where is this Barrow place?"

"Somewhere north of here, I think.  We'll have to ask Wilson when he wakes."

Couldn't Jakob just find out by poking around in Wilson's head like he did for the submarine?

Interesting developments. In spite of all the Mary.

Quote from: Gabi on October 24, 2006, 09:42:34 PM
Interesting developments. In spite of all the Mary.

Or, very possibly, because of. :P

Quote from: Hilary on October 24, 2006, 09:19:09 PM
Hahaha... I love Wilson. (For some reason, I keep thinking about that volleyball in Castaway...)

Quote from: Tapewolf on October 24, 2006, 09:02:10 PM
"Um, anyway.  So where is this Barrow place?"

"Somewhere north of here, I think.  We'll have to ask Wilson when he wakes."

Couldn't Jakob just find out by poking around in Wilson's head like he did for the submarine?

I'm assuming that he's not so good at reading geographic data from people's minds.  Note that he did get the rough direction.

Quote from: Hilary on October 24, 2006, 09:44:00 PM

Quote from: Gabi on October 24, 2006, 09:42:34 PM
Interesting developments. In spite of all the Mary.

Or, very possibly, because of. :P

Last night (apart from the first 2k, this was written last night in an enormous chunk) I came perilously close to having all three of them on pot as they left the police station.  But so far I have maintained Jakob's stance on mind-altering chemicals (he doesn't take them intentionally) and I intend to keep it that way.

Originally Wilson was going to play back the recording of the submarine conversation, but I just couldn't resist adapting the opening line from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fear_and_Loathing_in_Las_Vegas_%28novel%29), which of course meant that it was going to end up badly.  Originally they were going to go to Barrow, protest and stop off at Ulveston on the way back, but I think this was more interesting and it had the side-effect of trapping them in the right location by destroying the van.
Breaking out of prison was a theme I'd been toying with, although the original idea for that one was that they were accused of being communist spies since they didn't fit in properly.
When I lived in Swindon there were a couple in our street who my father was convinced were sleeper agents.  He is rather left-wing himself though and merely eyed them with curiosity.  He once told me he was tempted to ask them what they were going to do now after the USSR collapsed in the early 90s.

**EDIT**
Incidentally, this is NOT the part where Jakob develops his horror of guns.  That comes later.

**EDIT EDIT**
I've made a few wording changes to the scene where they're in the holding cell.  I think the new description is funnier, but I might change it back.

Hehe, i really like that line from Fear and Loathing, nice touch. :) Makes me wanna watch the movie again. >.>

A very good read so far, JP, though I didn't realise that cubi could travel through dimensions to ours. :confused

Quote from: Gareeku on October 25, 2006, 02:36:26 PM
Hehe, i really like that line from Fear and Loathing, nice touch. :) Makes me wanna watch the movie again. >.>

The book is better, although the film is one of the best book adaptations I've ever seen.  The acid trip from a few chapters back also owes a lot to it although it was also based on a few other sources as well.

QuoteA very good read so far, JP, though I didn't realise that cubi could travel through dimensions to ours. :confused

Furrae has dimensional gates, as seen in strip #59.  If humans can use them to enter Furrae, it stands to reason that Furrae can use them to enter Earth, but for plot convenience and DMFA continuity reasons it's a rare skill (or most people are happy to stay in their own dimension). 

Azrael/Page has discovered how to create dimensional gates on demand (see Ch4).  Ultimately Jakob will learn how to do this himself without any instrumentation but it does cost him a lot of energy.  This is where all his Earth-based equipment comes from, by the way.

However, it's worth bearing in mind that Warp-Aci can also cross the dimensional barrier (that's what summoning them does).

Very good points, JP, though surely furrae would have the type of recording equipment Jakob likes to collect and use? Sure some aspects of Furraen (:P) culture may seem medieval-like, but if you take in account of cars (pretty modern-looking ones too, like the "Pinto" mentioned in one of the strips where a dragon has just sat on a car. However, cars may be much rarer than they are on Earth)  and (presumably) colour T.V then I don't see why Jakob wouldn't be able to obtain the recording equipment. Of course, the equipment may not have even been invented in Furrae, so that would kinda crush my arguement.  :animesweat

Quote from: Gareeku on October 25, 2006, 02:56:59 PM
Very good points, JP, though surely furrae would have the type of recording equipment Jakob likes to collect and use?

Indeed, but Jakob is doing this 500 years before the comic began - the rise of Being technology on Furrae is quite a recent thing which the Creature Council is struggling to understand.

The way I've been handling it, Jakob is buying the original equipment from Earth, but having the consumables (tape, film, spare parts) made on Furrae.  The technology that Jakob and Azrael have stolen is eventually replicated on Furrae, probably through subtle influencing on his part, but I'm leaving that bit ambiguous to avoid conflict with the strip.

Some things which Azrael originally developed, like patches, have been lost and rediscovered since (although Jyrras' patches are more stable than the entirely magical ones which Azrael has invented).

Again, good point. It just came to my attention earlier just after i'd re-read through the FC rp, which takes place around the same time as the beginning of the comic, where Jakob is in the human world browsing for equipment.

Quote from: Gareeku on October 25, 2006, 06:23:04 PM
Again, good point. It just came to my attention earlier just after i'd re-read through the FC rp, which takes place around the same time as the beginning of the comic, where Jakob is in the human world browsing for equipment.

Yes.  I chose 1992 for that because I have a 1992 price list from Turnkey.  As I say, Jakob has about 500 years more experience by that point - not least because he spends around 300 years studying magic, brooding and empire-building after Page, um, leaves.

Note that the dimensional portals which they're using allow you to specify the destination time, which is why he's visiting 1992 and not 2470, but although it's possible, Jakob isn't happy with going back in time except for when he's absolutely sure that he isn't going to cause some kind of paradox.

**EDIT**
I've finally managed to find my photograph of the stone circle.  It's bigger than I remembered:

I've got a buffer of nearly four chapters now, so I'm posting this now.  I think I'll do the next one on Halloween  :dface

Chapter 10

Azrael, Wilson and myself slowly picked ourselves up as the three weasel guards watched us nervously.  I could see in their minds that they were startled by our human appearances.  "The charm," I said to Azrael, reverting back to human form myself.  Azrael followed suit, but the guards did not lower their weapons.

"At ease, men," Page said, but to no avail.  "I order you to lower your weapons!" he said.  Finally, one of them stepped forward.  He was the captain of the palace guards, who I had appointed myself not five years ago.

"I was ordered to arrest you for treason, sir." he said.

"Treason?!?" shouted Azrael, "I am your lawful ruler!  What is the meaning of this outrage?" as he spoke, my wing-tentacles rose, the heads growling at the captain in a threatening manner.

"You are no longer our Lord," he said, swallowing.  "Our just and true ruler is Lady Siad, who came to power after you fled this world, leaving us without guidance."

"How long have we been gone?" I asked him, but he looked away and didn't reply.
"Three days," I said, reading the weasel's mind.  "She didn't wait long, did she?  Now tell me, captain, what happened to those whom we left in charge during our absence?"

He didn't reply, but became even more nervous.  "Dead," I replied for him, in a tone of disgust.  "Captain, I see in your mind that you were against this coup and only acted under your oath as a castle guard.  This oath was made to me.  If I were to release you from this oath, would you join us against the usurper?"

He shook his head, and I could see that he was beside himself with fear.  I couldn't really blame him - if we returned to power, he was sure he would face death for his part in the treason.. but if his new mistress found out about the offer I had made, he wouldn't even get a trial.  He was caught between a rock and a hard place, as the saying goes.

"Very well," I said.  "Take us to your Lady, and know that should we return to power, I shall take your misgivings about the coup into consideration."

"Thankyou Mi'Lord," he said uncomfortably, and lead us into the main chamber, where a brunette lapine figure was seated upon Page's ceremonial throne.  With a sudden shock, I recognised her - she was the same hare succubus that had tried to steal Chelsea's soul all those years ago.

"You were a fool to have spared me, Jakob," she said.  "I shall not give you the same mercy now."

"Is there some grievance between you?" said Azrael.

"Silence, Page!" she replied.  "You too were a fool to have come back through the Gate, breaking the exile which I had given to you.  You need never have known of the loss of your kingdom if you had only stayed where I had put you.

"As for Jakob.. Hah!  I was there when his clan drove mine from our city.  Our leader was nearly killed in the struggle.  Only she and a handful of others survived that night.  We swore there and then that we would never rest until his clan has been made extinct by our hand!"

"If you say so," I said.  "My family is an offshoot of our clan and I have no knowledge of their deeds, evil or otherwise.  Heck, my father didn't even know what they were called until he went to SAIA."

"Then you shall die unknowing," she replied and moved towards me.

"Couldn't we settle this like 'cubi?"  I asked.  "How about a nice game of Dreamwar?"  She didn't grace that suggestion with a reply.

I really wasn't sure what to do.  I had never physically fought another 'cubi before.. it was something that Fa'Lina's Academy tried hard to prevent, given that it was established to help preserve our race.

I tightened my mental shield and focused upon her, but she had done the same.  It would take just one slip from either of us and it would all be over.

Azrael lunged at her, his claws extended and his skin hardened and sharpened.  I had never seen him angry enough to do that before, but I kept my cool - otherwise he might have done the succubus' work for her.  She was less fortunate, but she pushed him aside quickly and closed the gap in her mind before I had a chance to exploit it.

Page was not so easily rebuffed though and redoubled his efforts.  The guards were not able to defend their Lady as the pair of them were entangled.  I joined the fray as well and between us we soon had a chunk of the hare's ear.  She yelled at her guards to aid her, but I knew she didn't want Page dead yet.  More likely she intended to steal his soul if she could, since it would greatly increase her power, as would mine - but absorbing the both of us at once might be too much for her to handle and was potentially fatal.

Between the two of us we managed to pin the succubus to the ground.  My tentacles closed around her neck - just one quick movement and she would be very dead.  The problem, ethical complications aside, was her guards who stood behind us, halberds at the ready.  All in all, it was a stalemate.

Suddenly the captain broke the silence.  "Let her speak," he said.  I didn't have much choice so reluctantly I unwound my tentacles from her throat.

"About time," she said.  "Now perform your duty and execute the traitor."

The weasel paused, his mind impossible to fathom.  His eyes kept glancing from the succubus to Azrael, and then to me.

"I said execute the traitor!" she commanded, furious at his hesitation.  "Do it at once, or you shall die too!"

"Yes, Mi'lady," he said, raising the halberd.  I closed my eyes.  A moment later there was a sickening sound, followed by retching from Wilson who was hiding in the corner.
A few moments later I opened them, and promptly saw the succubus.  I closed them again very quickly after that but could not stop myself from following Wilson's example.

"Remove her," said Azrael in an unsteady voice and clapped his hand on my shoulder.  "Come on, my friend.." he said.  "Let's get you and Wilson cleaned up."

Despite the appalling start, Azrael's plan for a new Furrae free of prejudice and hatred worked out reasonably well.  We set up a number of movements which spread far beyond Ha'Khun, and although their message rarely gained traction in the mainstream, the truths behind it were sufficiently self-evident for it to have survived even until today, nearly five hundred years later.

Wilson acted as our spiritual adviser until he reached the end of a full life.  I have often wondered what happened to his soul, whether dying in the wrong dimension caused him any administrative problems when he went upstairs.

Azrael and I had many happy years running the city together, inventing new things and engaging on yet more expeditions to the human realm.  We did eventually enrol as students at Essex University, with Azrael studying electronics and mechanical engineering as my own degree.

One of the more remarkable things we did in later years involved a financial scam which Azrael had devised.

When we had built the first machine that allowed us to leave Furrae, our method of financing had been rather crude.  We had initially used gold or diamonds, but these caused too many questions, since we had no address in that dimension, and that made getting credit or a bank account rather awkward.

Eventually Azrael had hit on a beautiful scam during an era when banks were offering credit cards like sweeties with only minimal checking.  I thought it was immoral myself, but finally agreed after Az convinced me that it was the credit card companies' own fault for not instituting proper identity checks and they only had their own greed to blame.
This was typical of Azrael - it was his idea of a good practical joke.  I think that Wilson would have approved as well, as it was just the sort of low-level subversion which he thrived upon.

Using the proceeds of some gold to set up an initial account, we bought a flat, which we did via an agency so no-one ever saw us.  Not that it would have mattered, since I could change my appearance at will anyway.
Then we took out a series of lineage ads in various newspapers, offering some kind of service to help people find work abroad - "Just send in your CV and references!"

Using this information, which was sent to a P.O. box address and then redirected to the flat, we were able to take out scores of credit cards from nearly every bank in other people's names, which were then sent to the flat.
We used each card to make a single, huge withdrawal from the bank's cash machines and then discarded it.  It took them several months to realise what was going on, and by the time the police entered the flat, they found it empty as we had long since fled.  Empty, that is, except for the floor which was covered in thousands upon thousands of unopened credit cards, far more than Azrael and I could ever have used.

That wouldn't work now of course, since this incident prompted the credit card companies to actually start cross-checking the identity of their customers, but for the pair of us it had been a windfall.  The money we had withdrawn had all been put into completely separate savings and current accounts, which I still use today for my occasional shopping trips into the human realm.

All told, we ran the city together for almost a hundred years until disaster finally struck, a disaster that would plunge me into the depths of insanity for the next three centuries.

And the foreshadowing roundhouse kicks us in the stomach. :P

Favorite part:

QuoteWilson acted as our spiritual adviser until he reached the end of a full life.  I have often wondered what happened to his soul, whether dying in the wrong dimension caused him any administrative problems when he went upstairs.

:giggle

Indeed. I liked that line :-)

And so did I. :)

Step after step we try controlling our fate
But when we finally start living it's become too late
--Dream Theater

Chapter 11 - (Warning.. violence)

The worst day of my life was a beautiful one.  Perhaps it was to compensate in some small way for what was to come, or perhaps it was to provide a pleasant set for those who were about to leave the stage.  Or perhaps it was all just blind coincidence.

I sat in the sun by Wilson's grave, a small open area in the centre of the palace.  Beneath the shade of the marijuana crop which we had planted in his memory, I sat reading a treatise on the problems of recording television signals from an electrical engineering journal I had bought on Earth.
There were a pile of other magazines, including one titled 'The Dr. Atomic Pipe and Dope Book' which Wilson had left to Azrael.

Absorbed in this study I was suddenly distracted by a scream from inside the palace.  Rushing inside, I was wholly unprepared for the sight which met me.  One of the palace guards, a polecat, lay dead with a crossbow bolt protruding from his chest.  Three weasel demons stood over him, one was preparing to reload and the other two were covering me.

"I don't want to kill you," said their leader, "but I will if I have to.  If you stay calm and do what we say, I'm quite happy to allow you to go into exile once we have taken control."

I almost laughed, but it caught in my throat when my eyes glanced back to the polecat they had murdered, a promising young guardsman.  For a moment I thought I saw a dim figure standing over his corpse out the corner of my eye, but when I turned to look it was gone.

"We should kill the incubus," said one.  "It will prove to Page that we mean business."
"Who is the leader?" barked the weasel, subduing his minion.  "The guard will prove that adequately.  We'll give them a chance to cooperate first, and then kill him if Page refuses to abdicate."

Suddenly, Page opened the door behind them.  This startled them and before anyone knew what had happened, the leader had fired.  In under a second, Azrael's face went from his usual carefree expression to surprise and then finally to disbelief as the bolt struck his chest.
Forgetting the danger, I rushed to where he fell and cradled his head gently.  He looked up at me in surprise, and said "See you later.".

I am a wolf, a predator.  Millions of years of evolution have fine-tuned my senses and hunting instincts.  Only comparatively recently has it become necessary to hide these urges so that we can partake in society with what would once have been prey races, but they aren't gone.   They're still in there, deep down, below the surface.  One crossbow bolt through the heart of my closest friend and they all came flooding back.

Pain and terror aren't my primary emotions, but I learned to make use of them anyhow - it was a compulsory module at the Succubus and Incubus Academy.  At the start of the course, my Professor, Destania, remarked that emotions were like any other kind of food.  "You can harvest them like fruit," she said, "gathering what you come across by passive absorption.  But that isn't the aim of my class.  I am here to teach you to hunt red meat, to actively look for a victim and to squeeze every last drop of pain and fear from them before they die.  That is what we will be studying in this module."

There are things which they teach you at SAIA, horrible things.  Ways to maximise the terror of your prey as you tear them apart.  Amongst these are a number of strategies to alter your appearance, to make yourself seem more threatening and terrible and I knew these off by heart.
I had found them most useful to prevent confrontations by scaring away my foes, although this wasn't the reason we had been taught them.  But the professor would certainly have approved of what I was about to do now.

My pelt turned a shade or two darker.  I grew two feet taller and my eyes burned red as a feral snarl tore from my throat.  I was utterly beyond reason, and if there was ever any doubt at all of my demon heritage, there could be none now.  The lead demon had already loosed his bolt, and he wasn't going to get a chance to reload - not now or ever again.
With eyes like slits, my wing-tentacles emerged at a shocking speed, slicing the strings of all three crossbows, breaking the leader's leg and finally dragging him back towards me as the others looked on in horror.

"No," he whispered as I brought him to face me, my eyes boring into his as the wing tentacles lacerated his chest.  Tentacles can do many things, you know.  They can be sharpened to points, or flattened into knives.
A favoured technique for disposing of adventurers is to simply curl your tentacles around the neck and lop the head off in a single motion, the way a child might do to a dandelion.  Or you could simply extrude the tentacles to a point, instantly impaling your victim through the heart.  I might have done that, given him a quick, clean death - had his victim been anyone other than my dearest friend and mentor.

When his spine broke I dropped the demon's lifeless, wide-eyed corpse with a peal of insane laughter and a feral grin of exultation on my face.

For some reason the two surviving weasels had actually stayed to watch as I slowly filleted their late comrade.  When I turned my attention back to them, wild-eyed, wired on an overdose of pain and coat gloss-red with the blood of my victim, they suddenly realised that this course of action was ever-so-slightly threatening to their own survival.

I pursued them, howling like my feral brothers on the open plains, but demons have the ability to vanish into the shadows and I lost them.  That didn't matter.  They were going to die anyway, and they knew it.
Whether it took three hours or three centuries, they were already dead.  Johan Cross would see to that.

Great, said Page, with his head in his hands*.  Look what you've done!  I'm dead and you've turned the ruler of my city into a psychopath.  You realise that he won't rest until the others are dead too?

I'm sorry.. said the weasel, unable to take his eyes off the staring, mutilated body on the floor.  I'm so, so, sorry..

You're lucky he wasn't thinking clearly.  He could quite easily have destroyed your soul.  We can only pray he doesn't think of that when he manages to catch your companions.

Can we go now? asked the polecat.  His corpse is making me feel ill.

A month after Page's death, I was back in SAIA again.  Not to teach, as Fa'lina had hoped, but to learn things which I had not felt the need to study before.

I could sense that Fa'lina had misgivings about my return, but I did not know to what extent.  I'm sure she noticed that my attitude was different - darker and more furtive than I was in happier times - the slightly wild look in my eyes, and the fact that I never smiled.  I had kept my mind shielded for the whole of the interview and I never knew if it was that which made her suspicious, or if she had, by some deep magic unknown to me, silently broken through it and read from my mind the true reason why I had decided to return.

Either way, she allowed me to re-enrol and I immediately began to study hard, concentrating almost entirely on the theory and practical study of life sciences and metabiology.  I don't think anyone noticed that I was focusing obsessively on Angel metabiology in particular, or if they did whether they realised why.

One night I entered the library with a fellow student, in hopes of recovering an extremely arcane and forbidden text which dealt with the summoning of creatures from the realm beyond.  I told him that it was to help with our coursework, but really I was hoping that the secrets it contained would be the key to raising Azrael from the dead.

This was made more complicated by the fact that a number of Beings had somehow infiltrated the Academy and had engaged in a fight with the Librarian, foolishly summoning dire monsters in order to defend themselves and hampering our plan.

At length I managed to take a copy of the relevant parts of the tome, and set to work.  The first stage was to cleanse my mind, which I did by embarking on the age-old ritual of sleep.  This was not something I had needed to do for many many decades, but it was sometimes useful for problem solving and meditation.

I lay there, my mind concentrating on nothing but the black void, the null dreamspace which had come to replace the once-vivid dreams of my youth.  Suddenly, I saw Azrael.

"Jakob," he said, "I know what you are seeking to do, but I beg of you not to proceed with it."

"But it will work!" I insisted.  "All I need to do is amass sufficient energy, and I can bring you back!"

"Indeed.  But have you stopped to work out how much energy you'll need to create a living body from scratch?  Or from the decaying bones which you laid to rest?  There's only one way you'll be able to do that, and that is by devouring the souls of dozens of other people.  Maybe hundreds."

I looked at him, blinking back tears.  "Is there no other way?"

"None.  And if that is the alternative, I would rather stay dead.
That is all I can say to you right now, Jakob, but take heart.  I shall be watching over you.  After all, what are Angels for?" he grinned, and faded away from my dreams.
When he was gone, I awoke with my eyes still damp.  Suddenly I sat up, clenching my fist around the bedclothes.
I had wavered from my original plan to try and make things right again, but this was now denied me.  If I could not have Azrael back, I would put all my energies into vengeance.  Those demons would wish they had never been born.

When I returned from SAIA, I found the palace brought back many painful memories.  So I left it and the day-to-day running of the city to the mayor whom I had appointed to act in our absence, and moved the seat of governance to a new building in the mountains overlooking the city. 

At its foundation was the generating station from the hydroelectric dam further up which powered Ha'Khun, but by the time my modifications had finished it was more like a fortress.  The throne room was mostly kept dark and was lit from behind so that no-one could see me mourn.  I kept it that way long after my grief had run its course, but by then it had taken far more sinister connotations.

I sat morosely upon upon this throne, listening to the reports my advisers brought for me.   

"Well, Mi'lord, I fear there is still no news of the assassins, although we believe they may have fled to Macura Province."

"I see," I sighed.  "And has there been any word from our ambassador there?"

"None as yet, Mi'lord."

"Very well.  And what of our internal affairs?"

"The only real problem of note seems to be the problem of crime.   There have been at least four slayings this week owing to the continuing gang war between Zarista Clan and the Fat Sun Brotherhood."

"Who is winning?" I asked, perking up for a moment.

"Zarista Clan, but by a small margin.  Left unchecked this problem will continue to grow, I fear.  Do you wish me to step up the raids, Mi'lord?"

"No.." I said, rubbing my muzzle.  "No.  I think I shall deal with this personally."

"What do you propose to do, your excellency?" he asked.

I smiled for the first time since Page had died, although it wasn't a very pretty smile.  Soon it would become infamous.  "I'm going to reason with them."

---

*I didn't hear this exchange at the time of course, but in later years, to try and learn more of these demon assassins, I wove a spell that allowed me to look back into the time of Azrael's death.  This came as something of a surprise.

Hmm. He's going to be very reasonable, I feel.

Not. :square

Quotethey suddenly realised that this course of action was ever-so-slightly threatening to their own survival.

favorite line so far.

I think my absolute favourite bit of this one is the line where the weasel is staring at his own body, although the "I am a wolf" bit also ranks quite highly.
I have actually read the Pipe and Dope Book - I still don't know why my father has it for all that he's not exactly pro-drugs.  The bit about the library is a reference to Gabriel's Abel's Friend strip.

It was kind of hard to write this one.  Like Jakob himself, Azrael was originally created for a specific purpose and was never really supposed to take on such a life of his own.

This is probably my favorite chapter so far-- I absolutely love the part where they're all standing around looking at their own bodies.

Quote from: Hilary on November 04, 2006, 11:43:54 AM
This is probably my favorite chapter so far-- I absolutely love the part where they're all standing around looking at their own bodies.

Thanks.  An interesting thing about the more recent chapters is that I've written the core first and added the top afterwards.  In that one for instance, there was originally just going to be Page and the weasel.  The polecat was actually a late addition since I didn't know how I was going to link to the death scene up until the day before (Page was going to say his line).

The other change was that I finally figured out how to link that conversation into it.  I was actually prepared to break the first-person narrative just to keep it in.  I should have the next chapter up in a few hours too.  More violence, I'm afraid.

Tortured insanity, a smothering Hell
Try to escape but to no avail

Innocent victims of merciless crimes
Fall prey to some madman's impulsive designs
--Dream Theater

Chapter 12 - warning.. more horrible violence

My meeting with the bosses of Zarista Clan was short and to the point.  Dressed in a trenchcoat I introduced myself as Johan Cross and stated my desire to aid them against the Fat Sun Brotherhood in exchange for a controlling stake in their organisation.

Two of these bosses objected violently... if they had simply said 'no', or even been a bit less skilled in combat, they would probably have lived.  Although it greatly pained me to have to do what I did, it was them or me and it certainly helped make the survivors more pliant.

Becoming a crimelord was the most fun I'd had since Page had died, and I soon found it was just the thing to distract me from the pain of his loss.  I was not yet ready to reveal my true identity, although I had let slip that I was a corrupt 'cubi official in high favour with the Palace and chuckled silently to myself as I helped the Clan to break my own laws.

The Clan had not had a 'cubi in charge before, although one of the bosses was a demon, and my powers helped greatly.  Disguised as a random citizen or hidden entirely I was able to eavesdrop and mind-read the members of the Fat Sun Brotherhood to learn their plans and weaknesses.
By this means I was able to isolate key members of the Brotherhood and trap them so that the Clan could remove them, and within a month the Brotherhood had surrendered - the operation entirely bloodless save for a few accidents and diehards who would not come quietly.
Now there was one organisation that controlled all crime throughout the entire city.. and I controlled it.

I had been tempted to wind up the Clan once their rivals had been absorbed into it or otherwise neutralised, but I saw now that it would simply have split into factions again and returned to its violent ways once more.
So I remained in charge of it, gently focusing it upon economic goals such as smuggling and the sale of contrabands, some of which I had outlawed myself to keep them occupied.

Gradually over the decades the underworld became my pawns.. hidden tools of government which everyone knew of yet remained unspoken.  It doubled as the basis of my intelligence network and as a means to round up the political enemies of Johan Cross.
Few dared to openly speak against me, and my shameful descent into tyranny was well underway.

And so it happened that in the hundredth year since Page's death, I sat as usual, brooding upon my dark throne, disguised as a grey fox.  My advisers arrived, bringing reports of the economy.  My rule, strict though it was, had greatly increased the standard of living among the citizens of Ha'khun.
Alas, my agents had reported no further sightings of the demon pair responsible for Page's assassination, but I could wait.  If nothing else, I knew how to wait.

Suddenly I felt something.  I dismissed my advisers, requesting them to return in two hours, and turned to look at the right-hand door.  Suddenly a young weasel burst through, brandishing a large sword.  I had expected something like that, since I had felt strange emotions from an unfamiliar mind approaching.  He had done a fine job of entering the castle by stealth but now the moment had come to reveal himself.

"Lord Cross, your evil reign must end!" he cried, and threw a dagger at me.  I caught it with one of my tentacles, slicing the blade in two.  Meanwhile, the guards had wrestled him to the ground and two of them held him down.  A third, a lynx, raised his halberd to deliver a blow that would sever the unfortunate weasel's neck, his victim bracing himself for the end of his life.

"STOP!" I yelled.  "Did I order you to kill him?  No, I did not!  Sergeant!  Place your halberd on the ground.  I shall deal with you later."

Nervously, the lynx placed his weapon on the floor at my feet.  No sooner had he done so than his eyes rolled up into his head and he crumpled to the ground.  "Place him in the corner," I directed, and then turned my attention to the two guards, a wildcat and a fox who were still holding the weasel to the ground.

"Bring him before me," I said.  "I shall hear his grievances."

The weasel was shaking with fear, but despite his youth he maintained a proudly defiant expression on his face as he looked up at me.  By careful arrangement of the lights controlled by a panel on my throne, only my face was dimly lit... the rest of my body a mere shadow.

"Who sent you?" I asked him.

"I shall not tell you," he said.  "but know that your days are numbered.  When the others hear of my death they shall send another.. and another!  Even if only one of us succeeds where I have failed it will be a price worth dying for, to put a knife through your black heart and save the realm from your evil ways.. the secret executions.. all the souls you have devoured!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked, in a faintly amused tone.

"We know the truth!  We know that you murdered Lord Page to take his place, and since then the streets have been filled with terror.."

The words died on his lips as my eyes burned with rage.  "Hear me, weasel," I snarled, and he took a step backwards.  "You can never understand what Azrael meant to me.  His death, and my failure to prevent it was the worst day in all six hundred years I have lived.  In accusing me you insult his memory and his choice of successor.  Yet I am not surprised since his true murderer was a weasel, like you!"

The would-be assassin blinked, unsure of himself, but recovered quickly.

"Be that as it may, since you claimed the throne, the streets have been filled with terror!  Whole families have disappeared, never to be seen again!"

"Malcontents," I said.  "Their presence was a destabilising factor.  I cannot allow the minorities who oppose my rule to threaten the safety and prosperity of the majority."

"You had them all beheaded.. or shot!  Men, women and children!" he screeched.

I smiled my trademark cynical smile, the hooded eyes.. amusement and deadly menace in equal proportion.  "Executions are messy and inefficient," I said.  "It's so much easier and just as effective if the population thinks that my opponents and their families have died by my hand."

"Hah!" he shrieked, and I could feel that although he was trying to muster a defiant laugh, he was close to tears.  "Outspoken critics of your rule have been murdered!  I hid and watched as my own father was dragged into a dark alleyway and shot by your guards as he pleaded for my life!
"And now I have come to slay you and avenge my father... but I failed and I shall gladly pay the price.  Kill me now, so that we can again be together!"

I leaned towards him, my twisted smile evaporating as I digested his words.
"What did you just say..?"

Among the many implements of torture and death which I had devised during my madness was a semiautomatic pistol.  I had taken the principle from one of our encyclopedias.
Although none of my books had shown a diagram of the mechanism, within ten years' time I had designed my own, taking clues from the shattered and rusting remains of the weapon the police chief had shot me with on Earth in 1968.  I field-tested it on a feral deer, which my palace chef later roasted.  Satisfied that it would serve, I built many more for my guards to use in defence of the realm.

As it turned out this proved a most popular measure.  Firearms suddenly found their way into plays and novels.  Young men of military age - far more than we could handle - were vying to join my elite marksmen.  But although I had carefully screened them where I could, the risk of a marksman going rogue with their gun was a possibility I had long feared, and now it seemed that it had finally come to pass.

I looked down at the weasel, who stood there defiantly with his arms folded, waiting for me to condemn him.

"Young man," I said, "tell me about the guard who murdered your father."

As he spoke, I reached into his mind.  The guard who had made the kill was a feline, the product of generations of interbreeding between different kinds of cat until his exact species was indistinct.  But I saw him in the weasel's mind.

"I am sorry," I said, "this should never have happened."  The young would-be assassin simply blinked.  He had been expecting a death sentence, not sympathy.

"I shall find the one who did this and avenge your father myself.. rest assured of that.  But now I must decide your fate.
It goes without saying that you will never see Ha'Khun again - it better suits my policy of social order through fear if my opponents are believed to be dead, and what you have learned tonight would jeopardise that if it was repeated.
The consequences of that would be horrific, so you too must be disappeared - into exile."

I was smiling my cynical smile again as the weasel stared at me in disbelief.  "Yes, exile.  There is a large island where you will meet most of the victims of my evil reign.  As I cub I was taught to believe that life is sacred, although I don't suppose for a moment that you'll believe me until you are safely there.  Just be thankful that Johan Cross can be merciful.  A lesser ruler would have your head on a pole outside the castle by now."

The lynx guard in the corner had woken up and was nervously watching as I passed judgement on the weasel who had sought to kill me.  I beckoned him towards me.

"Sergeant Ashley, I acknowledge that you sought to protect my life, but I am rather disappointed that you intended to behead my attacker when he posed no further threat.  Pray do not do that again.
I shall let you off  this time with a cut in this month's pay.  But I warn you - if you do that again I shall not be anywhere near as forgiving.

"Now.  This young weasel is to be exiled.  Take him to the Gate, and do not forget to send his sword through first.  He's going to need it.  Now I must go - I have other business to attend to."

"Yes Milord," he said gratefully and led the weasel away.

In a dark alleyway, just as the weasel lad had described, I sat waiting, a shield of partial invisibility rendering me almost undetectable against the dim light.  From this vantage point I saw four men.

Three of them were my guards, all feline - one of Page's traditions.  Once I had been granted a share in the running of the city I had opened the post up to other species, but there was still a majority of cats in the service.

These guards were a bobcat, a puma and a feline of indistinct species, almost certainly the one who had committed the crimes.  The other two dragged the struggling, pleading figure of a canine and pinned him to a wall as the cat stood before him.

The husky whimpered, staring down the barrel of the semiautomatic gun.  "Please.." he said, one final time.  A second later his body crumpled to the ground, his life spilt onto the wall behind him leaving a grim red stain.

Cursing myself for being too late to save him, I closed my eyes in silent prayer and just for a moment I could see the husky again, crouching to examine his own murdered corpse with a look of horror and bewilderment.  When I opened my eyes again, he was gone.

"I must say, I am very, very disappointed.." I began in a chilly, almost bored tone, making myself visible again as I did so.  The three guardsmen turned to see me perched on a low wall in the alleyway, sitting there cross-legged in red fox form, with my backwings and headwings visible.

The gun might have worked, but I had already hardened my skin as a precaution in case they tried anything foolish.  Anyway, it was too late now since the cat holding the gun was rooted to the spot - partly out of fear, and partly because I had already invaded his mind and was preventing him from leaving.

"I might have asked you why you killed him," I continued, climbing down from the wall and staring the cat in the face, "..but I already know.  I know all your murders.  You can have no secrets from me."
I sighed.  "I can see that I shall have to show you why what you have done is wrong."

Somehow his weapon was in my hand, a trick I had learned that was very useful for intimidating people.  He stood there breathing heavily as I slowly levelled the gun right between his eyes, in exactly the way he had done to the unfortunate canid.
The hammer clicked upon an empty chamber, and I took the gun away again.  The feline was trembling violently.

"Do you understand now?" I asked him.  He nodded with relief.
"Good," I said, and with one swift motion put a bullet beneath his chin.
Now there were two red stains on the wall.

"There will be no more killings without my express consent," I said coldly, my eyes boring into the puma's.  "Do I make myself clear?"  The surviving pair nodded vigorously.

"Good.  Remember, I can kill more than just your body."  This threat needed no amplification.. the 'cubi ability to eat the souls of their victims was legendary.

"Now remove this mess, and ensure that the husky is given a decent funeral.  And if any more of you get the urge to murder my citizens for kicks, bear in mind that I shall always be watching.  Do not ever forget that."

I gestured at the corpse of the feline guard, and the others turned involuntarily to glance at it.  By the time they turned back, I had vanished.

Life is sacred, but sometimes desecration can become necessary.  They never saw the tears in my eyes at what I had done.

Nice chapter title. :-)


.. and it's a nice twist at the end, there...

nice

Quote from: GabrielsThoughts on November 05, 2006, 12:14:02 AM
nice

'Nice' wasn't exactly the word which sprang to mind while writing that one, I must confess.

Hopefully the next one should be up fairly soon.

And here we go.  See also this song (http://dougtheeagle.com/sftwah/sftwah04.mp3) from my album 'Songs for the Wild-At-Heart'.

Chapter 13

It was evening.  I stood upon the balcony of my fortress gazing out across the city, when I heard the sound of sword upon halberd far below.  I turned sharply, to ask one my guards to go down below and investigate, but before I could do so one of my scouts, a ferret, burst into the room, panting.

"Intruder, Mi'lord..." he wheezed.  "At gates...  Trying to break in through front gate..."

"Know you his name?" I asked.

"Bull... says he is Ulric the Strong..." replied the scout, slowly getting his breath back.

Ulric was an adventurer I had heard many rumours of.  A 25-year old bull, he had made his name as something of a demon hunter.
Arrogant and vain, Ulric was nonetheless regarded in many circles as a true hero's hero - one who had saved a number of villages and inspired many others to follow his lead.
He was also directly responsible for an equal number of disasters and had narrowly escaped being hanged on more than one occasion for the murder of those who had been foolish enough to say so within his earshot.
In short, he was one of the few bounty hunters to have a price on his own head.

"Hmm," I mused, and smiled my wicked smile.  "Switch to code 'gazelle' - Inform my captain of this at once."
The ferret sped off, shouting the word over and over, as loud as he could.

For my tactics I used different species as codenames.  It helped attach a visual cue to the code making it easier to remember - so long as I chose different enough species to avoid confusion.

'Gazelle' meant that we would seal off the corridors and my guards would fall back, guiding the intruder to the throne room where I and my henchmen could safely dispose of them.  Simply shooting him was an option of course, but I much preferred to give my enemies a chance to surrender first so I had devised a series of strategies to defend the fortress while still retaining this option.  'Gazelle' was one of these - a standard exercise I performed at least once a year to keep my guards upon their toes.
Likely some of my guards would think this was an exercise too, since the exact date of the drills was known only to me.  Otherwise there was the possibility of an intruder coinciding their attack with our exercises if they were commonly known.  But tonight was no drill.

Since the throne room had been breached by the stealth approach of a young weasel a year or so past, I had also begun to make more use of electric eyes and other such sensors.
All the corridors surrounding key areas such as my throne room and other important parts of the complex could now only be entered by those who carried inductive pass-keys - anyone else would trigger the alarms.
Like the exercises, I would test them at irregular intervals, leaving my own pass-key behind, sometimes even hiring a thief to try and break into the fortress.

Touching a wall of my throne room, I opened a secret door and entered a small chamber down a flight of steps.  On one wall there was a map of the fortress.  As I stared at it, a light near the entrance came on, followed instantly by the ringing of an alarm bell.

So far, so good I thought.  As they came on one by one, I monitored the intruder's progress as he made his halting, confused way from room to room.  Apparently he had become lost trying to accomplish the exceedingly simple task of making his way to the throne room, made even simpler by the fact that most of the ancillary corridors had been blocked off by portcullises as per my order.

Either that or he's trying to loot the place, I pondered.  But even that dimwit can't be stupid enough to try plundering a castle before taking care of the owner first.  Or maybe he is just raiding the place and not after me.  If so, codeword 'Gazelle' was the wrong strategy.

As if on cue, the bull began to trace a more normal path towards my throne room.  I stood there, focusing on the final three lights, waiting for them to illuminate as he approached the entrance.

Suddenly there was a crash.  I turned around, stunned and ran up the steps back into the throne room.  The crumpled figure of an armoured lynx was spreadeagled by the door of my throne room and the bull had positioned himself just outside the door, blocking my exit.

The lynx was Captain Ashley, lying in a pool of his own blood, victim of a savage thrust to the waist by Ulric's powerful arms.  It had gone right through the chainmail joint.  Pushing aside for now the fact that he had caught me unawares, I raced over to where my stricken captain lay.

"I'm sorry, Mi'Lord," the lynx gasped as I knelt down beside him, cradling his head in my hands.  Memories of a similar moment with Page came flooding back to me, but I pushed them aside.
Touching his waist my hands glowed for a moment and the bleeding stopped, as did his breathing.

The spell wouldn't last long but it would keep him in a suspended state until I was able to heal him properly or until I joined him in death, whichever it was to be.

I turned back to the intruder, my eyes burning with hatred.  "You may well have killed the captain of my guards," I said.  "for that you will suffer."  The warrior's mind shield was tight and I was unable to find much purchase on his thoughts.

Together we did a dance around the room, him with his sword and me with my tentacles.  "Ready the battering ram," I said to my men, parrying and thrusting at my foe.  He concealed his puzzlement at this illogical request - which was of course a code, like 'Gazelle'.

"You know, I was always taught to believe that life is sacred," I said, "but in your case I'd be happy to make a small exception.  Unless of course we can come to some kind of gentleman's agreement."
He laughed and threw a dagger at me.  I caught it in mid-air and threw it back.  Demon reflexes are very handy to have.

"What foolishness," said the bull.  "there is a bounty on your life that would make me a king!" so saying, he leapt forward with a sudden thrust.

"As you know I am an incubus," I said.  His sword made it through to my chest, but I had hardened my skin and it glanced off.
"As such, your chances of surviving this fight are as close to zero as makes no difference.  If you throw down your sword and swear never to return, I shall forget all this bounty-hunter shit and allow you to go free.  If my captain lives I may only take your weapon and not your clothes too."

I was leading the dance now, and we were approaching a particular spot of the room which I had in mind.

"Do not plead with me, demon.  I shall never spare your cowardly life," he replied, dodging a blow from my knife-sharp tentacles.  "It is not simply the money, it is a question of honour.  You are a demon and your death will be welcomed by all.  Why should I back out of such a glorious challenge?"

"Now wait a minute," I said, parrying his attack again, "Demons and other Creatures make nearly half the population of this city.  Everyone is welcome here so long as they live peacefully.  I don't expect they will welcome my death, especially not if I was replaced by some racist bonehead like you who'd kill them as soon as look at them."

"Then after I have brought your head to my patron, I shall return to purge this city of its foul denizens.  Songs shall be sung of my achievements!  My name shall live on in legend forever!"

"Indeed it shall," I said and at that moment the trapdoor opened beneath him.
It was only about a foot deep, but its main purpose was to make him lose his footing.  There were other, deeper trapdoors for other purposes too.

The shock took him off-guard and I broke clean through his shielding.  A sudden memory of Page lying in state filled my mind, his face serene and peaceful, surrounded by flowers.  Suddenly his face changed into Ashley's.
"NO!" I shouted, and in a burst of rage I focused my hatred on the erstwhile hero's mind.  His body quivered, slumping limply to the ground and his eyes took on that singular, horrible expression that only comes when the soul has been eaten or cast out of a living body.

"And now there's one less hero," I said, as he became the fifth person to die by my hand.

I shunted the dead bull's soul into a specially-prepared jewel on a chain around my neck.  Taking a small portion of its energy, I cancelled the spell keeping Ashley in suspension and channelled the newly-stolen power into his dying body.  The bleeding stopped again but this time he was still breathing, although raggedly.

My chief healer arrived as if on cue, and a few minutes later my captain was lying peacefully on the floor almost exactly like my vision, but with one crucial difference.

"He should live, Mi'lord.", the healer announced, as we prepared to move him to the infirmary.

"Good.  Unless there are more pressing needs, I request that you stay with him," I said.  "If his condition worsens, inform me at once.  Otherwise I shall visit him in the morning."

That night I visited my laboratory, where ancient tomes of magic and dark, forbidden lore sat alongside hand-written copies of the electronics texts which we had borrowed from Earth.
I had managed to improve on the design of our home-built electron valves, bringing them closer in line with the ones that I had imported from Earth.  I should soon be able to repair the G-36 on my desk - one of the last magnetic recorders to rely entirely on valve circuitry.  Once again, I felt a pang of loss for Azrael.. he had had a natural gift for the mathematics underlying these circuits, whereas I had found it much harder work.

But tonight I was not interested in electronics.  I consulted some of the more esoteric works which I had learned of from the library at SAIA.  Tracking down another copy had been difficult, but it was worthwhile.
In accordance with the instructions I took an empty bottle, charmed it in the same manner as the soul-trapping jewel and built a heavy lead pendulum which I suspended from a wire thread.  Stopping the bottle so that the pendulum was inside it, I transferred the captured soul from the jewel into the bottle.

"Can you hear me?" I asked it, and the wire vibrated faintly in reply, a strange whispering voice made still more hollow as it resonated within the bottle.

Let me go, it said.  Return my sword to me, demon!  I shall kill you when I find you!

"Your body is dead," I told it.  "You're just a soul in a beer bottle now."

The wire made an eerie screaming sound.   "QUIET!" I snapped at it and the screaming ceased.
"You were right though," I pointed out, "your name shall live on in legend, but not in quite the way you had intended.  Your name shall henceforth be a reminder of the price to be paid by those seeking to thwart Johan Cross."

As I spoke I began drafting a letter in my head to the officials of Zinvth, to claim the prodigious bounty on Ulric's head for a murder he had committed during a banquet in his honour.  If I could magically preserve the corpse, I could probably claim the other bounties too.

Whistling a song by 'Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs' about a big bad wolf pretending to be a sheep, I rifled through the bull's personal effects.  Amongst these was a large hemp sack, filled with loot from the lower floors of my castle.  There, fallen to the bottom of the sack, was a pass-key which Ulric had taken because it looked shiny.

Roaring with laughter, I left the laboratory and headed towards the infirmary.

Sam the Sam and the Pharoes?

Is that correct?

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on November 11, 2006, 03:16:48 PM
Sam the Sam and the Pharoes?
Is that correct?

No.  It needed a bit more H.  Fixed now.

Hehe-- this chapter was made twice as fun with the parallell of "One Less Hero." I put it on my ipod a while ago, and I couldn't help imagining Jakob singing the line at Ulric instead of saying it normally. xD

Another great chapter... I'm really enjoying this story. :mowsmile

Indeed.

It's a nice touch when Jakob requests the healer to stand by, that it -is- a request, and that "other pressing needs" are mentioned. Even if it's an order phrased as a request, there's a heck of a lot of wiggle room in there that most tyrannical despots, in your typical story, wouldn't leave.

Heck, by the sound of it, wandering off to relieve yourself would be acceptable, and not roundly castigated should the poor guard die in the meantime... That, I think, is a nice touch explaining how come the whole setup remains working...

There was also a comment I was going to make about how the story as a whole reads (something that came to me whilst I was thinking it over) - you mention about a paragraph or five down how it's been a year or so since the end of last chapter. Since the "wrapper" story is Jakob telling his life story, surely it should be mentioned right at the start of the chapter? Unless it's a specific effect you're trying to implement...

Just a thought.

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on November 12, 2006, 08:14:39 AM
It's a nice touch when Jakob requests the healer to stand by, that it -is- a request, and that "other pressing needs" are mentioned. Even if it's an order phrased as a request, there's a heck of a lot of wiggle room in there that most tyrannical despots, in your typical story, wouldn't leave.

Yes.  This was inspired in part by.. [looks it up] ..Chapter 19 of White Wolf by David Gemmell.  In this chapter, Ironmask, a tyrant who makes Cross look like your favourite uncle, has had his face burned by the Old Woman.  His deputy, Morcha (whom Jakob is not unlike, now I come to think of it) requests the surgeon to attend him.

The surgeon, a thin-faced man with rounded shoulders, looked at him curiously.  Morcha felt embarrassed suddenly.  The man had no choice.  When Ironmask issued a command you either obeyed or died.  Sometimes you did both.

..which of course he does - Ironmask kills his surgeon as soon he has been healed (Morcha starts to realise that his Lord is crackers around this point, but sadly doesn't live to make amends).
Jakob is treading a very fine line between being an evil tyrant and actually being a decent sort, which makes the writing somewhat hard.   That said, he has always been supportive of his employees and henchmen.  In Furrae Chronicles chapter 14, it mentions the pension plan for his evil minions.

I do have a certain amount of leeway in that by the present day, his rule ended a century ago and some of the facts have become blurred.  The thing about Jakob killing his own clan leader to take his place and get the powers is a total rumour.  Again, this sort of thing happens a lot with Skilgannon in W.W. - that's probably where I got the idea of Jakob's wicked past from, now I come to think of it.

Originally the demon in the song 'One Less Hero' and Jakob were separate characters.  I got the idea of fusing them when I started to write what became chapter 11 of Furrae Chronicles.  But that meant that something really drastic had to have happened to make Jakob become evil...

Talking of which, when Furrae Chronicles first began, I thought Gareeku had drawn from Gemmell since his character, a white wolf, acts very similarly to Skilgannon the Damned (alias the White Wolf) - at least to begin with.

QuoteHeck, by the sound of it, wandering off to relieve yourself would be acceptable, and not roundly castigated should the poor guard die in the meantime... That, I think, is a nice touch explaining how come the whole setup remains working...

Yes.  Jakob trusts his judgement.  Implicitly, he is going to be pretty pissed off if this trust is breached.  If the Captain did die while the healer went off to play cards or something, I would not want to be in his position.
(If there were more pressing needs, Jakob would probably have tended Ashley himself, BTW)

QuoteThere was also a comment I was going to make about how the story as a whole reads (something that came to me whilst I was thinking it over) - you mention about a paragraph or five down how it's been a year or so since the end of last chapter. Since the "wrapper" story is Jakob telling his life story, surely it should be mentioned right at the start of the chapter?

I've done that on a few occasions, I felt it was a bit of a cop-out actually.. a little sentence at the top to maintain continuity sticks out like a sore thumb to me.  I thought it would seem more natural if it was just mentioned in an off-hand way.
Originally this chapter was set a short while after the previous one, but when I got the idea of promoting Ashley - well, the last we heard of him was that he'd just been chewed up for trying to kill the Weasel.  Now it's a few years later and he's set out to prove himself.

Truth be told I don't yet know how I'm going to link to the next one.  It's going to start in a wholly different location and I don't want to have a blob about Ashley at the start of it.  Unless I think of something better, I'll probably throw that in about halfway down as well.  Again, I'm not sure if it's set a few weeks or a year after the previous one, but I haven't made the target word count on that one yet anyway so I guess we'll see what happens.


And now, here is the original ending from chapter 13.  At first Jakob didn't know his name, but at the last minute I realised that it broke the link with the song - he had to know who was attacking him for it to work.


"Your body is dead," I told it.  "You're just a soul in a beer bottle now."  The wire made an eerie screaming sound.
"QUIET!" I snapped at it and the screaming ceased.

"You were right though," I pointed out, "your name shall live on in legend, but not in quite the way you had intended.  Your name shall henceforth be a reminder of the price to be paid by those seeking to thwart Johan Cross."

Suddenly I paused.  "Hold on," I said, "I don't actually know what your name is."  Cork the Avenger,, the bottle replied sullenly.  I left the study and headed towards the infirmary, roaring with laughter.


'Cork' is a surname, although not necessarily a common one.  I was a little miffed at having to yank that joke, although I guess it wasn't brilliant anyway.

**EDIT**
Even I forgot about the pension plan in Furrae Chronicles..

Quote from: Tapewolf on November 12, 2006, 10:28:56 AM

QuoteHeck, by the sound of it, wandering off to relieve yourself would be acceptable, and not roundly castigated should the poor guard die in the meantime... That, I think, is a nice touch explaining how come the whole setup remains working...

Yes.  Jakob trusts his judgement.  Implicitly, he is going to be pretty pissed off if this trust is breached.  If the Captain did die while the healer went off to play cards or something, I would not want to be in his position.
(If there were more pressing needs, Jakob would probably have tended Ashley himself, BTW)

I'm presuming, here, that Jakob is sane enough that if, despite all the healer can do, the Captain dies anyway, that he's not going to come down on the healer like a ton of bricks.

I may be wrong in that. :-)

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on November 12, 2006, 11:36:30 AM

Quote from: Tapewolf on November 12, 2006, 10:28:56 AM
Yes.  Jakob trusts [the healer's] judgement.  Implicitly, he is going to be pretty pissed off if this trust is breached.  If the Captain did die while the healer went off to play cards or something, I would not want to be in his position.

I'm presuming, here, that Jakob is sane enough that if, despite all the healer can do, the Captain dies anyway, that he's not going to come down on the healer like a ton of bricks.

Indeed.  Jakob blew away the cat in the previous chapter because they had gone around killing (relatively) innocent people for kicks.

If Ashley had killed the Weasel trying to defend Jakob, chances are he would have been kicked out on his arse at worst, or more likely demoted - depending on Jakob's mood and how much he can empathise with the guard's motives.

As for the healer, keep in mind this is the chief healer we're talking about - he's already proved himself, otherwise he'd be one of the underlings instead.

If they deliberately killed someone a'la Shipman, Jakob in his current state would get angry enough to kill them too.
If as you suggest, he neglected the patient and they died, that's less clear.  Jakob would probably not have them killed, but his wrath would nonetheless be terrible and there would certainly be a new chief healer afterwards. 
If the chief healer tried his best to save someone and failed, Jakob would be pissed but rational enough not to take it out on them - after all it might mean losing someone else.

An interesting point while we're on the subject is that the 'intruder' sequence and the 'kills the feline' sequence were originally developed separately.  In an early draft the intruder scene happens afterwards:

"STOP!" I yelled.  "I said there will be NO MORE KILLINGS without my EXPRESS orders.  You!  Halberd to the floor.  I shall deal with you later."

..but I gave that one up once I linked the two together after a struggle to decide what tips Jakob off about the murders.

Quote from: Tapewolf on November 12, 2006, 12:18:23 PM
As for the healer, keep in mind this is the chief healer we're talking about - he's already proved himself, otherwise he'd be one of the underlings instead.

Point. However, granted there's a lot more helpful magic around etc, and granted there is more likelyhood of the healer managing to save someone than, say, in the 1400's in Europe. Despite that, I still see most healing (even now) as "some do, some don't" and guesswork. On that basis, the healer might be good at guessing, but that doesn't mean he wins them all. Even doctors these days don't win them all, or even half of them, really.

Just go ask about pediatric care. There's no baseline, they really don't know why the kids get sick, they just guess, and hope they get better (serious sickness, here, I'm talking. or deciding not to eat, or stopping breathing for no reason, or SIDS, or...)

Not to be a drag on the convo or anything, just a few thoughts...

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on November 12, 2006, 04:15:07 PM

Quote from: Tapewolf on November 12, 2006, 12:18:23 PM
As for the healer, keep in mind this is the chief healer we're talking about - he's already proved himself, otherwise he'd be one of the underlings instead.

Despite that, I still see most healing (even now) as "some do, some don't" and guesswork. On that basis, the healer might be good at guessing, but that doesn't mean he wins them all. Even doctors these days don't win them all, or even half of them, really.

Just so.  Actually I really meant that in becoming the chief healer he's demonstrated that he's responsible as well as skilled, and not going to slip out for a cigarette or something while the patient lies dying.

Now, this morning it occurred to me that they could simply shoot the intruder (a design glitch caused by this storyline being planned over a year ago).  The answer to that is that Jakob prefers to give people a chance to surrender first, so I've updated the description of 'gazelle' to reflect this.

I was thinking more a "well, he looked ok, and then took a sudden turn for the worse when I turned my back for a second" type situation.

Which is slightly different to "I was there, and then I wandered off because the blood was dripping off the table, and when I came back a couple hours later, after three hands of poker, he was dead! Gee, what a surprise!" :-)

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on November 13, 2006, 06:45:48 AM
I was thinking more a "well, he looked ok, and then took a sudden turn for the worse when I turned my back for a second" type situation.

Gotcha.

Now - I've just re-read chapter 1 and compared to some of my more recent efforts, I thought it left something to be desired, so I've just done an fairly substantial edit to it if anyone is interested.
Fa'lina's explanation is now a lot better and should make a lot more sense for non-DMFA people too.  A habit I had then of starting sentences with 'I' and using lots of short sentences in a row has been fixed too.

This is about half of one huge chapter which I decided to cut in half at the last moment.  The rest of it will follow in a few days.  Putting off Ashley's fate was not my intention, it just turned out that way but we'll get there in the end.  I love inventing kooky religions, by the way.  Can you tell?

Chapter 14

Niall Cartwright looked wistfully at the sky.  He was about sixteen and his fur was grey as a wolf's should be, although there were patches of orange upon him here and there, traces of the fox side of his family.
He had seen hangings before, of monsters, murderers, petty thieves and heretics.  Not that enjoyed watching them, but the attendance of executions was mandatory by Church law.  Each time, Niall had closed his eyes at the moment of death although the Church had denounced this as a mortal sin.

He hadn't slept much in the night, but that was not unusual these days and it was part of the reason why it was now his turn upon the scaffold, hands bound behind his back, awaiting death with an air of quiet resignation.

They put the noose over his head, the headwings making this slightly awkward, and then drew it tight around his neck.  "I haven't done anything!" he insisted once more, but it hadn't helped him so far.  They prodded him over the trapdoor and read the charge to him.  His crime was simple - he had grown a pair of wings on his head, and that meant he was an incubus.  He had to die in case he began to feast upon his fellow townsmen.

At least my parents didn't live to see this, he thought.  Out of the corner of his eye he saw a guard climb up the steps and stand behind the hangman.  Finally, Father Mandamus ascended the steps as well and came to stand beside him.

"Be not afraid, my son," he began.  "Accept the death which we now offer you, for it is a holy death - the death of the Saviour visited upon you.  For just as His hanging brought us salvation, so too will your death purify your soul and allow you swift passage to heaven.
"If you continued to live, the demon side of you would grow and grow until you became one  with the spawn of the pit.  Death then would mean damnation for you.  Trust me, this way is better."

"Bullshit," spat the wolf, his impending death finally giving him the courage to speak out against the town's high priest and leader.
Hands bound, he gestured with his head at the jeering crowd.. men, women and children impatient to watch as his young life was snuffed out.  The execution of a demon was a grand event and pedlars were hawking mementos, small wooden sets of gallows with a winged wolf figure on a string.

"Look at them," he said.  "This is nothing more than a lynch mob.  Can you, Father, as a man of God, look me in the eye and tell me that these bloodthirsty sadists care one jot for my soul?  I think not.  It's just a lie you've made up to justify killing me when I haven't done anything wrong!"

The Father turned away.  "We are too late!  You have already made a pact with the forces of the Evil One.  If only you could have seen the Lord has he appeared before me, then you too could appreciate the sanctity of what we are about to do.   But alas, it is too late for you.
That blasphemy shall be taken as your final words," he said and then raised his voice so the crowd could hear.

"Go now sinner, to meet your dark Master!" he shouted, the crowd giving a cheer that quickly fell into the hushed silence of anticipation.  The young wolf closed his eyes as the hangman reached to pull the lever.  Death came suddenly.

There was a scream of terror from the crowd along with a horrible wet sound on the scaffold.  Hardly daring to believe that he was still alive, Niall gingerly opened one eye.  The executioner's heart had been pierced by the wing-tentacles of a very angry canine incubus, standing where the guard had been just a second before and wearing a look of savage delight upon his face.

The prospect of death had emboldened the young wolf, but the realisation that he risked his very soul being devoured suddenly made the gallows seem like a really, really good idea.

"No.. no.." he whimpered as the 'cubi turned to face him, almost lazily knocking the furious Holy Father off the scaffold and into the crowd below.
Frantically, Niall jumped up and down on the trapdoor in a vain attempt to kill himself before the incubus could destroy him.  A sharpened tentacle promptly sliced over his head - the noose falling limply around his neck and blocking that means of escape.

Niall's eyes were wide with terror, forgetting for a moment that he was a 'cubi too now.  When he remembered it didn't bring any consolation - this incubus was probably from a rival clan.  He didn't know much about 'cubi but he did know that they had clans and that the clans had rivalries and feuds and wars.. and that they ate people's souls.

The young wolf curled into a foetal position, cowering and whimpering as the 'cubi's tall shadow fell over him... the brave face he had put on at the gallows had long since fled.

"Well, Niall," I said, "That was a close one!  Let's go."

"No... please... not my soul...  Let me stay here and die!" he sobbed.

"Your soul?"  I asked, bewildered.  "I came here to save your life, not eat it."

Niall began to giggle hysterically.  "Save it for later consumption?"

"Don't be stupid," I growled.  "I've just killed someone in order to rescue you, so you're coming with me, like it or not."

I pulled him up by the arm, and as the guards made their way up the steps, halberds at the ready, I proscribed a circle with one of my claws and we vanished in a flash of black light.

As we walked through the corridors of my palace, the lad finally found courage enough to ask me the questions I had been patiently waiting to hear.

"What do want from me?  Did you save me because I'm a fellow 'cubi?  Or a fellow wolf?  Or what?" his voice was unnaturally shrill - he still seemed to believe that he was about to face execution after all, or quite possibly a fate far worse than mere death.

"Well, because you're a 'cubi, I suppose." I said.  "Not just any 'cubi, though.  I saved you because you personally are very important to me.  It took me a while to track you down, though.  And for that I apologise."

"But who are you?" Niall asked.
"Johan Cross," I replied.  He whimpered again and made the sign of the Noose.  "I'm your great-great-grandfather," I added.

Niall and I sat in an office which I used for important meetings with my staff.
The lighting was electric, which impressed Niall greatly, as did the air-conditioning system - crude by today's standards, but not bad as a first attempt.

Once he was convinced that he was going to live and had got over the initial shock of learning that his great-grandfather was the product of a one-night-stand between a vixen and a 400-year-old farmer who was now the region's most notorious crimelord, he began to settle down and asked various questions which were troubling him.
For instance, how it was that I was only his great-great-grandfather when nearly eight generations had passed since I had bedded Chelsea?

"I don't really know myself," I said, "but it turns out that your grandfather was actually a Were, which could account for his remarkable ability to sire  your father at the grand old age of 85.
"Genetics and metabiology aren't my strong point I'll admit, but it seems likely that his counter-magical abilities may have somehow interfered with the 'cubi factor and left it dormant for a couple of generations."

"None of my ancestors were 'cubi, then?" he asked.  "Apart from you, of course.."

"No, I've examined the birth records.  No-one was born with wings until you.  I had almost given up when one of my agents in Macura heard reports of a wolf becoming an incubus in some weird town nearby."

"The Church said it might happen," Niall admitted.  "They must have kept watch upon me.  I guess I always knew they would get me in the end, that's probably why I never paid much attention to their laws."

"Tell me about this Church." I said. 

Niall's home was Mundathra, a small, impoverished town just on our side of the border between Ha'Khun territory and Macura province.  Granted a certain amount of autonomy by Page many centuries ago and later forgotten, it had come under the control of a deeply religious group who called themselves the 'Church of Christ the Furry'.
I had never heard of them before, although the more Niall told me, the less I liked the sound of them.

I had been brought up under the wing of The Church of Christ the Human, who believed that God was human in form, and had sent his own human son to Furrae in order to help sort things out.  Like most Christianic religions they had a curious belief that demons served Hell, that angels were servants of their God and that good people would turn into them when they died.
As a consequence of this it seemed that their religion was primarily aimed at Beings, and this was probably the reason I later became apostate, all things considered.

Overall, in spite of this weird hangup, they were an honest and charitable sort whose tithings were mostly used to aid the community at large and the poor in particular.  Yet from my studies at SAIA, I knew that there were other, more sinister organisations that warped their religion to further their own ends and seemed to me that this 'Furry Church' was one of these.

They worshipped the Lupus Christi, sharing a not uncommon belief that the Son of God was a wolf (others believed Him to be a sheep or a lion).
But whereas most Christianic religions had a common theme of crucifixion, this group was unusual in that they believed their Lord had been hanged.  Perhaps in days gone past their faith had been honest like mine was, but by now it had been twisted into some kind of death cult.
For they believed that death by hanging was somehow holy, and since they were in full control of Mundathra, public execution by the gallows was the death penalty proscribed for most crimes, many of which were considered trivial offences in other, more enlightened regions.

Attendance at the executions themselves was mandatory, and it was expected that everyone should watch the last moments of the condemned person's life, apparently part of some weird mass-prayer for their soul.  Many of the crowd turned up willingly for the excitement - others, like Niall, came only reluctantly and turned away or closed their eyes when the unfortunate victim died.  This was not something the Church could easily prevent, but many sermons were preached against it, threatening dire spiritual consequences for sinners who refused to give the spectacle their full attention.
Those who failed to attend without just cause would be cautioned by the Church.  Too many absences, and they could well find themselves attending a hanging of their very own.

The Church's stance on magic was fairly predictable.  Even in some of the more rustic areas magic was considered a special gift to be treasured.  In nearly any other community Niall would have had his natural talents nurtured and encouraged.  But in Mundathra it was forbidden as a tool of the Dark One, with - surprise surprise - a hanging in store for anyone found guilty of what they referred to as 'witchcraft'.

Ultimately it was most likely this very prohibition, combined with the massive and regular influxes of emotional energy from the executions which had allowed Niall's headwings to form at so young an age.  Had he been a regular spellcaster, the magic level that caused them to appear would have been reached maybe ten years later.

"..and you let this band of fruitcakes run your town?" I said when he had finished.

"I don't know," he replied.  "They've been in control since before I was born."

"Not for long," I said.  "They may have been granted concessions when it comes  to tax-gathering, but executing my citizens without authorisation, let alone in public, is not something that I will stand for.  They are flouting the laws of my realm and I shall have to bring them to heel."

Niall looked at me.  I could sense conflicting emotions in his unshielded mind, a faint tremor of fear as he remembered that he was talking to a powerful mountain lord, and a flickering thrill of horror and excitement that he was about to see Johan Cross at work.

oooo.

Promises to be entertaining :-)

:yasrsly

:lynched  :nono  O:)
:lynched = :kittydevious

:pope

*rules for having an emote post*

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on November 17, 2006, 07:26:09 PM
oooo.

Promises to be entertaining :-)

Damn.  Now I'll have to write the actual attack scene... I should never have glossed over it anyway.  That will probably delay the next bit though..

Quote from: Tapewolf on November 18, 2006, 04:29:09 AM
Damn.  Now I'll have to write the actual attack scene... I should never have glossed over it anyway.  That will probably delay the next bit though..

Piffle. I meant the story as a whole. :-P

Chapter 15

To Niall's disappointment, we did not rush into action.  I wanted to plan the operation in detail, and his descriptions of the town proved most useful.
Niall was not yet grown enough to dispense with sleep entirely, but during the day I helped train him in basic weapons skills.  Not that I intended him to do any fighting, but it helped keep him occupied. 

The headman of Mundathra was their high priest, Father Mandamus, the badger who had presided over Niall's attempted execution.  Within seven days these roles were somewhat reversed.
About a month before his 'crime', Niall had been inside the Holy Father's home on an errand, and so he had a clear memory of its location and layout.  This was just what I needed in order to be able to warp there, the only difficulty was getting this information out of his head.
One possibility was to enter his waking mind, but this was difficult, time-consuming and would be rather draining for both of us.

So instead I entered his dreams that night, another nightmare recollection of his brush with death.  Asserting my presence within it, I caused him to enter a lucid state, and wishing away the angry mob of pitch-fork bearing villagers, followed him down the thirteen steps of the gallows and off into Father's Mandamus' house.

There were several doors inside, some of which would not open - Niall did not know what was behind them.  Fortunately we did catch a dim glimpse into the bedroom, so I wouldn't have to search the property when I arrived.  The only guards were posted outside.

Leaving Niall behind, I left his dreams and warped into the real living room of our foe.  It was past time when all good Beings should be in bed, so I went there directly.  As I stood over him, I hesitated.  It didn't seem right to attack him in his sleep, but I shrugged the feeling aside rapidly.  It's not really an attack anyway...
Using a low-level stun I forced his sleep to become even deeper, so that he did not awake when I bundled him over my shoulder and warped back to my fortress completely undetected.

The priest stirred a minute or two after I used the counter-stun spell upon him.  He blinked, sniffed the air and looked around, but he did not panic.  In his mind I could tell that he had half-guessed what had happened and a moment or two later his mind-shield snapped on.
I watched him impassively from a desk obscured in shadow, a G-36 purring softly to itself and capturing the proceedings on tape.

"Father Mandamus, I have brought you here because you have broken the laws of my realm."

He turned with a start as I spoke, stepping out from the shadows as I did so.  I had assumed something close to my normal form, changing only the markings on my fur.  This served to emphasise the fact that Niall and I were related, while yet concealing my true identity.

"I thought this place had the reek of sulphur," he replied, seeing my
headwings.  "Whom am I addressing, demon?"

"My true name is not for your ears," I replied, "But you may call me Johan Cross.  As I said, I am most deeply unhappy at the way you have been treating your fellow townsmen.  Capital punishment has been banned for all but the most  severe crimes for many centuries.  It may only be used with my express authority, yet you have continued to take people's lives.  That is murder.

"In fact you have, by all accounts, murdered many hundreds of my citizens.  That you have done this at all is bad enough, but the fact is that you also tried to kill my heir.  That's treason.  And for that, I'm afraid you are going to have to be punished."

As I spoke, Niall stepped out from the shadows, his arms folded and his face set in a grim manner.

"Niall," said the priest sadly.  "I am unsurprised to find you here in this house of blasphemy.  I always knew that we should have sent you to heaven as well as your mother.  Our failure to hang you at birth has stunted your soul, and now you face only the pits of hell when your wicked life is through..."

"What...?" cried Niall in distress.  "I was told she died just after my birth!"

"Indeed she did," he said.  "But we took it upon ourselves to aid her in her passage to God.
You see, her husband was sixty-four when she became pregnant.  When she gave birth to a winged demon child, our suspicions were confirmed!
"Greatly desiring the child her ageing husband could not sire, she had in sin made unholy pacts, seeking intercourse with devils, until she was answered at last by an incubus!
"For this most terrible way in which she had strayed from the path of righteousness, we were forced to hang her as a witch.  She confessed to it after only a short period of questioning."

"Let me see if I understand," I said in a stony voice.  "You tortured my great-grandson's wife until she managed to invent some cock-and-bull story that you wanted to hear.  And then you hanged her, not merely taking her life as Lord Page and I had forbidden by decree, but doing so before the vulgar gaze of the public, denying her even the dignity of a blindfold?"

"Yes," he said, smiling.  "That suffering, death and shame purified her soul allowing her swift passage to heaven.  For just as our Lord's lupine Son died upon the gallows-tree to bring us salvation, so too did she find salvation for herself."

I looked at Niall.  He was crying softly and making the sign of the Noose again.

"Father Mandamus," I said.  "As lord of Ha'Khun and its surrounding territory and thus your ruler, I hereby formally accuse you of mass-murder and treason.
I was taught to believe that life was sacred, yet it seems that only by ending yours can I ensure the safety of my citizens.   Have you anything to say in your defence?"

He laughed scornfully.  "I serve a higher power than you, demon.  You preside only over temporal law!  We serve the spiritual laws given us by our Lord.  It is under His authority that we end the lives of the wicked to help them atone for their sins.  So He has commanded to us in person.
For yea, I have witnessed His glory with my own eyes...  For ever and ever, Amen..."

The badger made the sign of the Noose, his eyes shining with religious fervour.  I looked at him very strangely, unable to maintain the grave demeanour I had chosen for his trial.

"You met God?"  I asked him, unable to believe what I was hearing.  Insanity.. that would be a valid defence.  "Tell me about Him," I added.

"He visited our founder, blessed him to be long in years, and it was so, Amen.
He gave to us the new commandments and said that He would return to lead us into paradise.  At Easter Mass His presence visits us in secret chambers and His will is made known to us in person!"

"..And what is His will?" I asked, incredulously.

"Those who have sinned must be sent to Him at once to ease their passage to heaven, as I have said.  Where it is unclear who has committed the sin, we are to question all concerned with force until one of them confesses.
And most importantly, we are to remain ever vigilant for His prophet!"

Behind me, Niall began to recite fragments of the litany.

"And shall come at last a horse with the wings of a demon and the mind of an angel.  Dark in appearance and dark in name, he shall yet do My bidding in all things...
"After many hundred years of journeying shall this chosen one come unto the brethren and work many wonders in My name...
"For just as the omlette doth need the breaking of eggs, so too My return doth need the breaking of souls...
"The souls of queen and fae must needs be spilled, for only thus can paradise be brought at last to the earthly kingdom..."

The priest beamed.  "Spoken like a true child of the faith!", he said.

Something snapped inside Niall's mind and it went black with rage.  I really don't know how else to describe it.  Unable to find words to express his reply, he opted instead for something rather more direct.  The priest crumpled, a small bullet-wound just above that beatific smile, a single red tear mingling with the white stripe down his forehead.

Niall's reply had left the priest in an uncooperative mood and since his corpse had so far refused to answer any of the many questions I still had, we were forced to settle for a less immediate way of obtaining answers.

To begin with, I sat Niall down in front of a typewriter and asked him to type up all the fragments of litany that he could remember.  This was made easier by the discovery of a small bible upon the late Father's person, but it also gave Niall something to focus upon and helped to distract him from the guilt of what he had just done.

Studying the mass of texts, there was a definite pattern to the Furry Church's rather unorthodox mode of worship.  It seemed that within the last fifty years, the Church of Christ the Furry had actually begun to phase out the deity after which they were named, using the Lupus Christi only as a figurehead and a pretext for hanging people.
Their actual prayers were now aimed directly at God rather than using His son as an intermediary like all other such groups did.  Looking back at what the priest had said about meeting God in person, which he had also spoken to Niall about on the gallows, I suddenly realised that their religion had, in effect, been invaded.

As far as I could make out, some force or deity had imposed itself upon them, pretending to be their god and steering the faith in some strange direction to fulfil its own agenda.  This in and of itself was quite disturbing but there were things which I half-recognised from the tomes I had studied at SAIA and this unsettled me still further.

After pondering it for a few more hours, it suddenly began to make sense.
The hangings were sacrifices, the emotional energy released by the crowds was going to feed some malignant creature.  A rogue Fae was a possibility, but then it would have easily been able to manifest itself in corporeal form instead of just at the Easter Mass and besides, sacrifices for energy just wasn't a usual Fae tactic - they simply didn't need to use such crude methods.

And then it all fell into place.. the creature behind this twisted religion was almost certainly a malign entity I had read about which called itself the Dark God.  Its origins were not known, but it was believed to have been a physical creature at one point before it was slain or otherwise forced it into a noncorporeal form.
Throughout all of its many known manifestions there was one main point which remained pretty much static - it wanted its followers to assist it in the creation of a body to bring about its resurrection on Furrae... and now Niall's townsfolk were helping it to do just that.

Take a good idea or corrupt the meaning of the words of god, then add people who are too afraid to stand up to the bullies, the bullies become more powerfull, and you get a terrorist government crushing the people with a boot to their neck... sounds about right.

Whoohoo! Interesting brush with canon DMFA continuity. Nicely played. :mowgrin

Quote from: GabrielsThoughts on November 20, 2006, 01:58:13 PM
Take a good idea or corrupt the meaning of the words of god, then add people who are too afraid to stand up to the bullies, the bullies become more powerfull, and you get a terrorist government crushing the people with a boot to their neck... sounds about right.

I've always found the excesses of the 13th century Church to be fascinating.  The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco for instance, I found to be a truly awesome read.  Not everyone will find it so interesting though - it can be rather heavy going unless you like Tolkien and other rather flowery writing styles.

Quote from: Gabi on November 22, 2006, 06:23:45 AM
Whoohoo! Interesting brush with canon DMFA continuity. Nicely played. :mowgrin

Thanks.  Gently does it, as I say - Jakob most certainly is not going to fight Pegasus directly.
Originally the Church of Christ the Furry was just going to be a crackpot religion with no basis*.  You should have seen it when I had that idea - it was like a light suddenly came on.  After all, the Dark God is likely to be older than Dark Pegasus (who would have been born while Jakob was in SAIA, by the way).

---

*Not that we know for sure if Dark Pegasus' god exists anyway in DMFA - he might have been completely insane himself anyway, and trying to invoke a wholly nonexistent Dark God.  In CJP I've taken the middle-ground - I'm assuming that something has been urging him to sacrifice people.  It doesn't follow that it's an actual deity, though - more likely it's something of god-like power.  This is Furrae after all  >:3

Chapter 16

"What the hell are we going to do about it?" I said.

"Do we need to do anything?" asked Niall.  "It seems to be intent on bringing paradise to Furrae.  What's so bad about that?"

"For someone who was nearly sacrificed to help feed It, that's a pretty  blinkered viewpoint," I snapped.  "Look, kid.  Have you ever heard of the great god Kar'Pech?"

"No," he replied in a subdued tone, sensing my concern.

"Well, Kar'Pech was a Fae.  He wanted to be a god, and with the powers at his disposal he was able to pull it off pretty good.  He appeared before the inhabitants of a prosperous city, and by the time he left - a thousand years later - it had fallen into ruins.  Its people were reduced to serfs tending the land to bring him sacrifices of grain and wheat.  Living in shanties... illiterate.
That was his idea of 'paradise' - a feudal system where he was on top and everyone else worshipped him and obeyed him in all things."

Niall's tail drooped.  "And what happened to this Kar'Pech?"

"Oh, he got bored with it all.  The way the story goes, he left the city one night in search of new challenges.  Some say he began to try and teach feral rabbits to talk so that they could worship him.  Others say he succeeded, but that's not the point.  It took his worshippers over a hundred years of praying for his return before they finally twigged he wasn't coming back and slowly began to rebuild their once-proud city.

"Now whatever the Dark God is planning may be paradise for It but for us mere, uh, quasi-mortals it will assuredly seem more like hell."

Niall swallowed.  "So, er.. what are we going to do about it?"

"You know what?  I haven't the faintest idea."

In an attempt to clear my mind, I decided to go for a stroll in the city.
Disguising myself as a fox Being, I took Niall with me and we set off into the dark, rain-spattered night.  I always found these trips invigorating.. the faint aura of nervousness and fear which the sight of a stranger brought to my citizens had become my primary source of nourishment.  A little cruel perhaps, but I could feel it doing me good all the way down.

Everyone who saw me go past had a faint thrill of terror, a sinking feeling that the stranger in front of them might be Johan Cross (and it was!) and they would hurry away, their heart beating faster with the fear that I had come to end their lives.
I could feel that Niall was able to metabolise this too, which was good.  The only problem with taking him out to feed like this was that he wasn't yet able to disguise himself properly.  I had taught him to conceal his headwings, but I didn't want him to go out with the same base form each night.  Someone would eventually realise who he was, and from there deduce who his companion was which increased the risk of assassination for us both.
I resolved to try and build him a concealment charm.  Azrael had been the true master of that and most of his secrets had died with him, but all the same I should be able to rig something to change his fur colour.

The trenchcoat helped disguise me of course, and Niall was similarly attired.  It also helped cut down the amount of rain which made it through to our fur, saving the irritation of getting wet and the attendant problems of drying it out again.  Sitting in front of a warm fire helped at a pinch but it was generally considered impolite on account of the smell it made.  Not that I was actually beholden to anyone in my present position as ruler, but it was something I was taught as a cub and old habits die hard.

As we wandered through the half-deserted evening streets, I suddenly had an idea.   Turning sharply left, I led Niall to a strangely ornate building illumined by an unlikely combination of electric lighting and braziers.

"Welcome, O sucker.." intoned a musical voice, cutting off suddenly as a hand smote the speaker.  "That's 'Seeker', you IDIOT!"
A babel of voices sounded as the apprentice and the grandmistress began to partake in an ancient ritual known as beating-the-shit-out-of-each-other, but this quickly stopped as I clapped my hands, suddenly reminding them that they had a customer waiting.

"On behalf of the Temple, I bid you welcome, Mister.. uh..."

"..Cross," I finished for her. "..as I presume you foresaw.  So you may as well cut the crap and let's get down to business."

Niall looked at the Phoenix Oracles in awe and wonder.  "Can they really predict the future?"

"I'd like to think so," I said, "But they certainly weren't just now."

Ignoring the look of irritation from the grandmistress, I slouched into a chair and turned to face them.
"Right.  As you are doubtless aware, something very bad is going to happen in a small village known as Mundathra.  I'd like to know when and what we can do to prevent it."

The Oracles conferred with each other for a while and then one of them spoke up.  "It shall take place when the moon is in the seventh house, and the white star aligns with the red."

"I see," I said, nodding politely.  "And what steps must we take to prevent this thing from coming to pass?"

"Make thee a sacrifice, a burnt offering of pumpkins, flour, milk, butter and cinnamon..  mix the flour and milk into pastry and bake for two hours.."

"Thank you very much, ladies," I said abruptly, interrupting the prophecy and placing a small bag of gold upon the table.  "May I have a receipt, please?"
There was silence, the looming prospect of my demanding a refund bringing a look of stark horror to their faces until another voice piped up behind me.
"I'll do it," she said, and hastily scrawled the amount down on a small piece of parchment.  I took a quick glance at it - in their relief, no-one noticed that she had put the wrong time on it.

Bowing politely, I led Niall back out into the night.  As soon as I was out of their earshot, I began laughing hysterically.
"What is it?  What did the prophecy mean?" asked Niall.
"I don't know," I gasped, "and I don't care.  I really ought to do something about those old frauds at some point.. but never mind that right now.  I don't know about you, but I'm feeling thirsty."

A few minutes later I was sat down in The Smoking Gun and ordering two glasses of water, for myself and Niall.  Exactly twenty-three minutes later, a hooded figure arrived and made their way towards us.  The corner I had chosen, while offering us a good degree of privacy, was nonetheless very brightly-lit so it was impossible to see that the newcomer was glowing faintly of their own accord.
They moved towards our table and I ordered a third glass of water for them as they sat down.  I glanced at my wristwatch - a fine Swiss specimen I had purchased on Earth at great expense - it was exactly the time scrawled on the receipt.

"I'm glad you've made it," I said.  "So.  Can you give me the real deal?"

"Yes," she said, in the same voice as the Phoenix who had given me the receipt.

"Are you supposed to be telling us this?" asked Niall, butting in.  The phoenix cocked her head and looked at me, a quizzical expression just visible below the folds of her hooded robe.

"No, she isn't," I said.  "she's an agent of mine.  In times gone by it was easier to deal with the Oracles, although they have become downright shifty of late.  Did you see their faces when I asked for the receipt?  Heh.
When I was younger, there was a burgeoning cottage industry for 'cubi who would ask the Oracles a question on your behalf and read the answer directly from their minds.  That way they would get the truth, rather than the dross and outright lies which they have taken to fobbing off their customers with of late.
That proved a little too successful, so nowadays they have taken to using mental shielding which pretty much put a stop to that.  Eventually I hit on the idea of using a plant to get the truth from them, hence our friend here.  Anyway, carry on my dear."

I nodded to the phoenix, who quietly resumed speaking.  "According to the Sisterhood, the Dark God is going to try and manifest Itself in about twelve days."

"Twelve days?" I said in a horrified voice, "I was banking on at least a couple of months.  Do you know what It is planning to do?"

"Well, to be honest, the prophecy has become a little fuzzy, but it looks like It is sending a demon to perform the final rites, but there are two candidates.  Firstly, It will send a raccoon demon by the name of 'Jay Farrow' to perform the summoning.
But the Dark God has been putting all Its energies  into this event - if the summoning fails, It will be pretty much screwed and it will take about three centuries for It to become strong enough to try again.

"In that event, It will send a horse demon known as 'Dark Pegasus', but he is I believe still being groomed by the Dark God to act on Its behalf and not yet ready to perform the ceremony himself."

"What about the Church prophecies?" asked Niall.  "It said they'll have to sacrifice a Fae and a Queen."

"Well, the thing about prophecies is that the clearer they are and the better understood they become, the more likely you are to be able to change them.  That's one of the reasons our prophecies are so heavily veiled, by the way, although as your illustrious ancestor has pointed out, the tendency towards concealment has sadly attracted a great many frauds and charlatans to our ranks.

"The prophecy you're referring to is, so far as we can tell, a fragment of the second-level prophecy, a sort of emergency B-plan in case the first one is defeated.  In effect, the more I tell you about the first prophecy, the more able you become to prevent it happening, and the more likely it is that the second-level prophecy will come to pass instead."

"Well that would be a good start," I said.  "If we can buck the first one, we'll have delayed Its return by about 300 years.  What do we need to do to ensure this?"

"Well, as I say, It's sending someone to Mundathra, probably a raccoon.  When they arrive, they will round up the villagers and pick out those who are most pure-of-heart.  The single most pure individual will be sacrificed in some horrible manner to bring back the God.  The others who didn't quite make the grade will be disposed of or possibly fed to the God when Its return is complete.  The rest of the villagers will worship It and help to bring about the New Age.
"Not just in Mundathra either, but gradually expanding Its territory until It controls Ha'Khun, Macura Province and basically everywhere It can take hold."

Niall and I were silent.  After a while, the Oracle spoke again.

"If it were me, I'd either prevent the demon from getting there in the first place, or failing that ensure that he doesn't get what he needs when he does show up."

"And if we fail at that?"

"Then you may as well bake a pumpkin pie and hope for the best."

The aincent ritual of beating-the-shit-out-of-each-other. I've really gotta' remember that. :lol

Jakob isn't the only one laughing hysterically at them. :-)

Notes and trivia about this chapter, for those who are curious...

"for us mere, uh, quasi-mortals"
I was going to say 'us mere mortals', but of course they're 'cubi and thus not entirely mortal.

A little cruel perhaps, but I could feel it doing me good all the way down.
http://www.jpmorris.force9.co.uk/music/test/poison.mp3
..I love The Box of Delights.. the BBC pulled off that rare trick of making their filmed version better than the original book.  My brother and I used this clip for one of the trooper death sounds in Doom (Look for the 'Kansam's Trial' addon).  You may need to download the thing and then play it as most of the streaming players I've tried cut the end off.

It also helped cut down the amount of rain which made it through to our fur, saving the irritation of getting wet and the attendant problems of drying it out again.  Sitting in front of a warm fire helped at a pinch but it was generally considered impolite on account of the smell it made.
In their misspent youth my parents once used this trick with Boff (http://www.jpmorris.force9.co.uk/stuff/boff.jpg) to clear a crowded waiting-room at a railway station.
See also: http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=1502.msg65942#msg65942

"Welcome, O sucker.."
My brother did this to the gypsy in Ultima 6.

"It shall take place when the moon is in the seventh house, and the white star aligns with the red."
http://lyrics.rare-lyrics.com/H/Hair/Aquarius.html

The fake oracles made me smile. I wonder what rols the pumpkin pie will play in the upcoming events.

So Jakob's disguise is actually a follower of the Dark God? Why couldn't he think of anything more innocent? ¬_¬

Quote from: Gabi on December 15, 2006, 08:37:23 AM
The fake oracles made me smile. I wonder what rols the pumpkin pie will play in the upcoming events.

So Jakob's disguise is actually a follower of the Dark God? Why couldn't he think of anything more innocent? ¬_¬

It's actually the result of promise he made to the original Jay.  I'm still writing the middle section where Jakob actually deals with the Dark God, but Jakob's interactions with the raccoon are all written as of last week.

**EDIT**
I might add that no-one knows Farrow is a worshipper of the Dark God.. as far as anyone else is concerned, he's just another priest.

Chapter 17

At the edge of my realm was a sheer wall of rock in a roughly-circular configuration, probably the remains of an eons-old impact crater or perhaps the result of a Fae enraged beyond belief.  If I had found such speculation to be sufficiently intriguing, it is quite possible that I could have found a dragon who remembered its formation, but right now, I was far more interested in the Dark God.

Hewn into this caldera using an obscenely conspicuous display of magic, was a wide tunnel through the granite rock.  This was the chief means of journeying between Macura Province and my realm, the sheer rock providing an otherwise impassible barrier which had naturally come to mark the boundary of our respective territories.

I sat in the early evening upon the hills on the Macura side, suddenly spotting my prey.  A wagon, pulled by a feral mule made its ponderous way towards the entrance to the tunnel.  At the reins was the cart's sole occupant, a raccoon demon with cobalt blue fur and a pair of dark leathery wings protruding from his back.  He was dressed in a set of plain robes... just another monk to the casual onlooker, but I knew better.
Putting away my telescope, I crouched behind a large rock, and waited a few minutes before making my trademark magical pass and vanishing in a flash of black light, which my opponent did not see having entered the yawning tunnel.

As the raccoon emerged from the cave, I leapt at him with astonishing speed courtesy of my own demon reflexes and dealt him a swift hook to the side of the head.  Taken completely by surprise, he fell from his wagon and crumpled unconscious to the ground.  With a jolt of mental force, I paralysed the frightened and bolting mule, allowing me to focus upon the raccoon demon without having to round up his steed into the bargain.

Entering my victim's unconscious mind, I made a few slight modifications to put him into a coma.  Not an irreversible one, but enough to keep him placid for a day or so.  Stripping the raccoon, I studied his body carefully from all angles and then stared at the back of my hand until it changed colour to match the demon's own dark blue fur.
Taking the most useful possessions from my pockets, I swapped clothes with him, donning his robes and carrying him to a cave in the mountainside where I left him lying there in my own attire, before taking his place upon the wagon.  Beside me sat Niall, dressed as an acolyte.

"Welcome, Brother Farrow," cried the high priest, an ageing yet energetic fox whose black coat was punctuated throughout by flecks of grey.  Behind him, illumined by flickering lamplight, the town's large gallows loomed in the distance, fitted with a new noose but mercifully unoccupied.
While I was no stranger to death and indeed had six killings to my name by that point in time, I was - and still am - of the opinion that executions are an absolute last resort and the sight of a furre swinging limply in the cool night breeze with their head lolling from a snapped neck would almost certainly have caused me to blow my cover.

"Father Mandamus, I believe?" I smiled, knowing full well that Niall and I had emptied the Holy Father's ashes into the lake just under a fortnight ago.

"Alas, our Holy Father is no longer with us - he is said to have been captured and martyred by heretics, so until such time as he is miraculously delivered to us, I have assumed his duties myself.  You may call me Father Trumidian."

"Well met, Father," I said, shaking his hand.  "I have brought with me a young acolyte to assist in the preparations for the Glorious Coming of our Lord.  He has taken a vow of silence to improve his discipline and may speak only within the chapter house or the church itself and only then in connection with his duties.  I trust this will not present a problem?"

"Indeed no," the Father replied as we entered the abbey.  "Such acts of piety are indeed good for the soul.  Let me show you to your quarters."

He showed us to a large room in the guest houses.  Looking around, I smiled to myself.  Like the little I had seen of the abbey so far, it was ornate and sumptuous, the Furry Church having evidently forsaken the austere furnishings of their more devout rivals and gone to seed.  Most likely they were partial to rich food as well, and that would make the plan so much easier.

It was Terce on the morning of the day of the Glorious Coming of the Dark God, whom the Church of Christ the Furry still believed to be some divine saviour that would bring paradise to all Furrae.

My mole within the the Phoenix Oracles had told me the rituals which the Dark God was planning to invoke, which was what had originally given me the idea of taking Farrow's place since I not only knew how to perform the rituals but I also had a fairly good understanding of what made them actually work.  I had given the prone Jay's mind a quick examination to verify what rituals he was expecting to perform, and now I was ready as was Niall, whom I had briefed on the few last-minute alterations during our ride into the town itself.

When the bell finally rung for Mass, we assembled into a well-lit chamber in the basement below the main church to perform a special ritual.  The clergy stood in a circle marked upon the ground with blood from the slaughterhouses.
A boiling cauldron of sanctified incense sat upon a fire in the middle of the room, a receptacle to hold and focus the Dark's God's powers.  Next to it was a small table containing holy books and a number of sacraments to be cast into the cauldron at the correct moment, guiding the collected energy into the form It required to manifest Itself.  Adding these sacraments was to be Jay's duty and as far as the Dark God was concerned, he was indeed going to perform it in spite of the fact that he was really lying helpless in a cave some miles hence.

As the clergy began to chant, I took the first sacrament, a small coil of rope made into a hangman's noose, and threw it dramatically into the sanctified potion after performing a reasonably good imitation of blessing it, which was made easier by the fact that the Furry Church considered magic to be a sin and had therefore never seen the real thing.

At this point, the clergy's chant ended and they simultaneously reached for and ate their own blessed sacrament, a small slice of pumpkin pie placed on a lectern next to each member of the congregation which they washed down with consecrated wine.

"Is all in readiness?" I asked Niall.

"Yes my Master," he replied demurely, in exactly the way a silent acolyte would when commanded to speak by a superior.  That boy is going to make a good actor, I thought.

No-one seemed to notice the triumphant gleam in my eyes and voice as I bade him find the correct page for the next part of the ritual.  Perhaps they did, but if so they must have assumed I was pleased with way the ritual itself was progressing.

At some point between Prime and Terce, Niall had entered the kitchens on my instruction, bearing a parchment and a small vial of holy water to be added to the pie mixture.  According to the parchment it came from the blessed fountain of Zyxthura Cathedral where Jay had been trained.  This was in fact true until I had poured the contents away and replaced them with something that was neither water nor holy.

Nothing happened for a few minutes as the congregation began their second chant, but just before it ended - in a far more ragged and faltering way than the near-military precision of their first song - their voices were most definitely starting to go off key with one another as the LSD-25 took hold.

I cast the second sacrament, a toadstone, into the cauldron - deftly bouncing it off the rim of the cauldron where it ricocheted off the wall and fell into the fire.  No-one noticed as I spat into the potion instead, confused as they were by the monumental drug overdose which Niall had spiked the pie with.

I will never know what it was that they saw, but by the time the fourth and final sacrament was due, the entire congregation barring Niall and myself were lying slumped upon the floor in various states of happiness, terror or profound insight.

For good measure, I absorbed the cauldron's energy into myself, transferring a third of it to Niall as well.  After all, why waste such a bounty that was just left lying around already collected, ready for us to consume?
As the potion turned from its shimmering, glowing self into a cold lump of congealed mess, Niall and I hugged one another in the realisation that the Dark God's precious ritual had been averted, Its power now added to the reserves of Niall and myself.  We would have had to eat quite a few souls to make such a gain as the Dark God had granted us that night.

Then a black, oily substance began to flow down the walls.

"Farrow," said a slick, almost simpering voice from mid-air.  Releasing Niall I prostrated myself before the cauldron.

"I am here, Lord," I said, in what I hoped was a convincing replica of the raccoon's voice according to what I had read from his memories.

"Farrow, the ritual should have begun in earnest by now.  Has there been a problem?"

"No, Lord," I replied.  "I have performed the ritual exactly as you asked."

The god seemed to be oblivious to Its tripping followers - apparently It had a very narrow field of vision on Furrae until It could complete Its manifestation.

"The collected emotions from the hangings... the agony of the deaths and the oh-so-varied feelings of the crowds...  All of this should have been gathered into that cauldron.  It is empty.  Explain."

"It was like that when I found it, Lord..." I mumbled.

"Then bring the High Priest to me.  He shall explain why...  why.."  The Dark God's voice faltered as Father Trumidian stumbled past the cauldron pointing at absolutely nothing with a blissful expression on his face.

"What are you doing?" It suddenly demanded as I stood up, grabbed Niall and teleported us both out of the abbey.

My hasty teleportation had deposited us somewhat further from our destination than I had intended, so we were forced to run into the cave before the Dark God realised where we had gone.  Aware that these could be the last moments of our lives, Niall and I whooped with exhilaration and joked with each other as we ran in the knowledge that if even we were to die, we had outwitted a god and stalled Its plans to return for several hundred years.  This laughter faltered and died when I turned round and noticed the fire and the lightning.
In the distance Mundathra burned, one last petty act of destruction from a fading power. 

"Oh no..." I cried, as I entered the cave and moved rapidly to where Farrow was lying prone on the floor in a heap of debris.  My black leather trenchcoat and indeed his chest had been pierced by some unknown force - apparently the Dark God had got here first.

Summoning a light spell I could see burn marks surrounding the wound and there was a horrible stench of cooked meat and burnt fur.  I knelt down, and feeling his throat for a pulse, suddenly jumped back as his eyes opened slowly and focused upon me.  Startled, I began to change back to my usual wolf form.

"No," he whispered, "you are the victor, incubus... you bested me, I beg of you, stay in my form...
"I see now the true nature of that which I swore to serve, and I'm only sorry... that it was not me... who thwarted It..."  He struggled to sit up.

"I'm sorry," I said.  "it wasn't meant to be like this..."

"Never mind that now... Dark God thinks it has killed you...  Take my identity... but use it well... too late for me to seek redemption...  But... if you do noble deeds in my persona...
People will remember me kindly... and not for my sins...  That is my last... request..."

"But you don't have to die," I told him.  "I can trap your soul.  One day I'll  find a new body for you, I promise..."
I searched for the soul-trapping crystals I usually carried with me, but it was in vain.  The Dark God had smashed them during Its attack on Farrow.  In any case, Jay didn't reply... a look of agony passed across his face and then with a small gasp it was replaced with a peaceful expression.

Standing up and closing my eyes, I saw his shade turn to face me, free of his terrible wound and casting a dim view of the cave around him as though he was some kind of light source.  I really must ask someone about this, I thought to myself.

Jay looked at me expectantly.  "I promise," I said, and he gave me a brief gesture of thanks before suddenly turning around as if someone had called his name.  A few seconds later he was gone and I could see nothing but the inside of my eyelids.

Heh.

LSD.

Heh.

Another great chapter... LSD put to work in problem-solving!  :woot

Fav line:

QuoteI had poured the contents away and replaced them with something that was neither water nor holy.

And don't forget the pumpkin pies. But yes, there seems to be a lot of drug promotion in this story.

I see what you meant about Jay now.

Quote from: Gabi on December 17, 2006, 04:24:28 PM
And don't forget the pumpkin pies. But yes, there seems to be a lot of drug promotion in this story.

Yeah, much of my humour is drug-related.  Ironically it was actually your "how is the pie going to feature in this" line that set me on that track.  The whole pie thing was actually some BS that the oracles had made up and not a true prophecy at all until Jakob made it happen.  Work that one out :P

I might add that every single character who has taken drugs in this story is now dead apart from Jakob who has abstained ever since.
I'm still not sure if he synthesized the acid himself from Wilson's notes.. more likely he went back to earth and got it that way since if he did make it himself he might have succumbed to it in the process.

Quote from: Hilary on December 16, 2006, 10:54:31 PM
Another great chapter... LSD put to work in problem-solving!  :woot

Remember kids, don't try this at home.  Drugs are bad, Mm'kay?
(Actually they're a great help in keeping the gene pool nice and clean)

QuoteFav line:

QuoteI had poured the contents away and replaced them with something that was neither water nor holy.

Yes, I'm quite pleased with that one.  The one which still cracks me up is where Jay/Jakob fobs the Dark God off with the schoolboy excuse of "It was like that when I got here, Lord"

This comes to you courtesy of my laptop.  Not exactly Christmassy, but could be worse  >:3  Now I'd better go to bed as it's late.

Chapter 18

I crept stealthily through the fractured landscape of a warzone.  A sniper on the roof missed my head by inches as I slipped on a piece of rubble.  He died moments later as I returned fire.
Hearing the shot, a band of six soldiers ran out of a half-collapsed building and opened fire on us with automatic rifles.  Two of them died instantly as I ducked behind another building and took them down, having taken only a flesh wound in my left shoulder.
Niall was not so lucky - he gave a small grunt and fell dead.  "Clumsy," I said, rolling my eyes, and killed the other four.

A few years had passed since the Dark God affair, and I had started to teach Niall the basics of mental shielding and dreamwalking.  Despite his youth, he had proven quite competent at the latter and we had engaged in vast a number of friendly DreamWar matches in my staff.

By means of some spells I had discovered in my library and customised myself, I was able to cause a Being to dream a particular dream according to my whims and we had designed an elaborate world to play in which I had recorded in an enchanted crystal.

I could have forced any member of my staff to act as a playground for our DreamWars, or kidnapped a vagrant from the city streets but it turned out to be quite unnecessary as I was able to make them dream lucidly and therefore become a third player in the game.  Because of this I had more volunteers than I knew what to do with.

"You won again," said Niall.  "I only got thirty-three this time.  What's your total so far?"

"I got forty-one, so you're catching up.  That brings my total to... twenty-three thousand, four hundred and seventy," I said, performing the arithmetic and adding the new numbers to my Dreamwar journal.

"I think that will have do for tonight," I said.  "I have a state to run after all.  You should probably relax.. I'll be in the throne room if you need me." 

Scant minutes after I had entered it, there was a knock on the door.
"Come," I replied, hastily seating myself upon the throne and dimming the lights.

"I have urgent news, Mi'lord," said Ashley.
In spite of my healers' best efforts, he had never fully recovered from the injuries he had been dealt by Ulric.  As such he had been forced to resign as captain of the guards, so I had put him in charge of intelligence instead... a less physical role that nonetheless made good use of his talents.

I always ensured that staff who pleased me were treated well - it promoted a fierce loyalty.  But there was a bit more to it that that.  I liked Ashley... there was something about him that reminded me of Page.

"What is this news?" I asked, bringing the lights up a few notches.  This was a measure of my trust - the closer someone was to my confidence, the better I allowed them to see me.  Ashley, like Niall, was one of the few who had actually seen my true lupine form.  Not that I would expose that with others present, of course - instead I usually took the form of a fox, husky, alsatian or occasionally a different species of wolf.  Remaining canid took less effort.

"We have a report from our agents in Macura Province, Mi'lord." he said.  "It has just arrived.  Apparently two weasel demons have been sighted there, and they match the description of your ancient enemies!"

My heart leapt.  "Are they still there?" I asked, looking at him intently.

"I believe so, Mi'lord.  We think they may be spying out the land to see if you are still pursuing them."

"I want them, Ashley."  I said, smiling my infamous smile.  "I want them alive.  They won't be alive afterwards of course, but I want them to be delivered to me in the best possible condition."

"How would you like us to approach it, Mi'lord?" he asked.  "As I see it, we can either request Macura to extradite them to us, or we can use a covert approach and send in a stealth team to extract them."

"The stealth approach at first," I decided.  "It would be best to take them by surprise.  If we went through the proper diplomatic channels, it would take time and we might lose them.  Even in the best case it is possible that someone could tip them off.  Detail a squad to perform the extraction.  I think the risk of a diplomatic incident with Macura Province is an acceptable one."

As he left, I got down from the throne and began drafting a letter to SAIA.

"I'm so proud of you," said Fa'Lina.  "I knew you could go far!  Your own private empire, filled with Beings to devour.  I've heard so much about it... all the killings!  You must have eaten thousands of souls by now!"

Niall gave me look that just screamed "what the hell is she talking about?" and I covered my eyes with my hands*.

"Er, no." I replied.  "I haven't eaten anyone's soul."

"What?" she yelped, "You mean you just killed them all?  You wasted all that precious energy?"

"I only banished them," I replied.  "It keeps the rest frightened and allows me to harvest their fear.  You know me.. fear and wonder.."

Fa'Lina's horrified expression gave way to a slightly crestfallen look but she brushed it aside and waited for me to resume speaking.

"Anyway.  As I told you in my letter, this is my great-great-grandson.  I have taught him what I can, but I feel the time has come for me to entrust his continued education in your capable hands.  He shares my abhorrence of soul-stealing, having been brought up as a Being and I would prefer that he retains his present moral outlook, incubus or no.  If he is returned to me as a monster I shall be extremely disappointed."

"There are a great many Beings and a number of 'cubi who consider you to be a monster," Fa'Lina pointed out.

"True," I sighed, "and while that's largely down to my reputation, there may yet be a grain of truth in it.  Look, I realise I have done questionable things and that's part of the reason I'm not sure I trust myself to continue his education in person.

"Anyway, I must return to my little empire forthwith.  With your permission I would like to visit him on occasion, and should my empire crumble I may yet return to aid you in the running of your Academy."

"Indeed," she replied.  "And now I sense you would like a final word alone with your great-great grandson.  I will wait outside."
 
"I'll be level with you, Niall," I said, my face lined with concern.  "I'm about to engage in a risky bit of diplomacy with a neighbouring state.  If it fails, things could get very nasty.  I should be able to pull through it myself, but that's on account of nearly six centuries' experience which you do not yet possess.  Even if it succeeds, things could happen which I don't think I want you to see.  In either case, the best place for you to be is here in the Academy.  I promise I'll come and see you from time to time."

We hugged each other, and then I left, with Niall safely in the care of my old headmistress.

Sending Niall to SAIA left me in a strange mood for a number of days, and so I was distinctly unimpressed when I returned to find that the guards had captured a young dog fox, yet another would-be assassin.

"You slew our holy Lord and Master, Page!" he screamed as they led him before me, his hands bound behind his back.

"You are mistaken," I snarled, furious that this piece of misinformation had not only been propagated, but somehow distorted into a religious cause.
"You came to assassinate me when I wasn't even here.  You were caught by the security system the moment you entered the palace, and now you are spouting some insane drivel about one of my dearest friends.  You are a fool.  All your mistakes have been foolish, but it is the defamation of Azrael's memory that I will not stand for.
 
"That was your last mistake.. a mistake which will cost you most dearly," I said, pulling out a pistol and loading it ostentatiously before flicking the safety catch off.  I focussed on his mind.  It was shielded, although the shield was beginning to falter as I took aim.

The gun went off with a crack and his knees buckled, collapsing like a rag-doll.  As I dragged the foxes' limp body feet-first into my private chambers, I could feel the horror of the onlookers, guessing that I was about to consume my foe's immortal soul.

I placed him upon my bed.  The entry and exit wounds to his head were now gone, a cheap trick.  Such grotesque uses of shapeshifting and projected illusion were a staple of the extravagent Hallows Eve parties which took place at SAIA... some of the best students had actually been mistaken for undead.
I entered my victim's unconscious mind and performed a few minor alterations to calm him when he awoke, lest the shock of his apparent execution prove fatal or break his mind.

There was a faint gasp and he awoke, eyes struck with horror, the first twinges of guilt starting as I wondered how I was going to explain it to him.

"Good," I said.  "you're back in the land of the living."

"Dead?" he whispered.

"Blanks don't kill people," I said, "although they usually let me through your mind shield.  I've generally found it's better when people think my enemies are dead.  It helps keep up my impression as a ruthless psychopath."

"But you are a ruthless psychopath," said the fox, recovering his voice.  He was still somewhat nervous about what I was going to do to him, but apparently he had decided to go out in a blaze of defiance.

"Yes, I suppose I am," I said.  "Sometimes I have daydreams about the pair who killed Azrael, and I can almost feel my hands around their throats...  squeezing the life from them, as helpless as Beings.. and then I realise that I can kill them twice, crushing the life from their bodies and then eating their terrified souls... savouring the power that it brings me and the knowledge that they have been wiped from existence..."

There was a hungry expression on my face, a look of savage pleasure at the prospect.  Suddenly a noise distracted me, breaking my evil mood.  It was a dull thump made as the fox backed into a wall, his face a mask of sheer terror.

"Well, I suppose I'd better do something about you," I said as if nothing had happened.  "Officially you're dead, so I can't have you seen wandering around, it would spoil the illusion."  There was no reply.

"Oh come on," I snapped.  "You think I'd go through all the effort of faking your death only to kill you afterwards?"  Rummaging around, I located an old sword in a scabbard.  Checking it had a reasonable edge I grabbed a few dried provisions and a water bottle and shoved them into a bag along with the sword, thrusting the whole package into the frightened vulpine's hand.

Finally I grasped his trembling hand.  Making a pass with my other hand, there was a flash of black light and we stood on the edge of a dry plain.  "I understand that there's a settlement over there," I said, pointing at a rocky formation a few miles in the distance.  Head towards it and be thankful that I can be merciful."

The fox finally found his voice again.  "So this is what becomes of your foes...?"

"That's more like it," I smirked. And giving him a swift kick in the ass, I vanished in a flash of black light.

---

*Jakob's long muzzle preventing him from burying his entire face as a feline or a human might.

Good.
What's that about Jakob's long muzzle precluding a more human gesture?

Wonderful closing line. :giggle

Quote from: Gabi on December 25, 2006, 09:31:09 PM
What's that about Jakob's long muzzle precluding a more human gesture?

I believe he means that if you go back up to the asterisk near the beginning of the SAIA segment, the presence of Jakob's muzzle prevented him from reacting in a more human manner than covering his eyes with his hands. Although I'm not sure what the alternative would be-- perhaps resting his head in them in a long-suffering fashion? *shrug*

Quote from: Hilary on December 25, 2006, 10:55:40 PM
Wonderful closing line. :giggle

Quote from: Gabi on December 25, 2006, 09:31:09 PM
What's that about Jakob's long muzzle precluding a more human gesture?

I believe he means that if you go back up to the asterisk near the beginning of the SAIA segment, the presence of Jakob's muzzle prevented him from reacting in a more human manner than covering his eyes with his hands. Although I'm not sure what the alternative would be-- perhaps resting his head in them in a long-suffering fashion? *shrug*

Burying his entire face in his hands is what I'd envisiaged.
One of the things I've been trying to correct in this one is the fact that Jakob has just been too nice for his reputation in later life so I resolved to make him appear somewhat less rational.

Chapter 19 - Violence and some language

After a brief knock on the door, a pair of guards entered, dragging a feline captive into my throne room.

"What is it now?" I asked impatiently, deeply annoyed as I was trying to read the reports from the team I had sent to Macura Province.

"MiLord, we caught this armed intruder breaking into the palace.", said the guard and prodded the now-disarmed cat who stood before him.

"I have come to end your accursed reign, foul murderer of Page..." he began.

"Not another one," I interrupted, looking up briefly.  "Throw this ingrate through the portal.  No!  Wait..."  I grabbed a piece of parchment and scrawled a short note, signing it and sealing it in wax.

"Take this letter back to your fellows," I said.  "Guards, throw him out."

It read:
So help me, I shall kill the next idiot who accuses me of murdering Page, my dearest friend and mentor.  Now piss off and leave me alone.
   -- Johan Cross

As it happened my agents in Macura had only sent me a periodic report.  The demons were still believed to be in the area, but my men were having some difficulty locating them.  This was something which had to be done carefully to avoid arousing their suspicion, so it was not unexpected.

Disappointed, I went for a stroll in the city to distract myself.  That I had risen from such modest beginnings to the absolute ruler of my own realm was something which never ceased to amaze me.  I watched the people hurry through the streets, eyeing one another with suspicion, furtive glances abound.  All these people were afraid of me!  It was something I felt slightly proud of, despite myself.  Who would have thought that a young peasant farmer would some day inspire such awe in their subjects?

As I smiled to myself, the sun approached its zenith and the early morning crowd thinned out as noon began to make its presence felt.
On a whim I sat upon a bench and watched someone, a canine of doberman descent as they made their nervous way through the street.  I allowed a faint drowsiness to wash over me... not because I needed to sleep but it would be a way to pass the time, and besides - who would suspect some old labrador lazing in the sun of being the eternally-young incubus Johan Cross?

As I sat back, I began to daydream and imagined the possibilities at my disposal.
Just think, said a voice from the darkest corner of my mind, you could have the doberman arrested for any reason.  For no reason.
You could even have him killed if you chose... or you could kill him yourself if you made all your wings reappear.  No-one would dare stop their ruler.
I realised that I held his life in my hands, and the lives of all the others who dwelt in the city, Being and Creature alike.  I wouldn't even need to touch him, I could end his life with a mere thought...
At that precise moment the doberman's head jerked back and he fell dead.

I sat bolt upright with a look of horror on my face.  My wicked reverie broken, I invoked a partial invisibility spell and glanced up at the rooftops of the tall buildings in the distance.  A dark shape silhouetted against the sky caught my eye, slithering away as I watched.  Making myself fully visible again I knelt to examine the corpse and confirmed my fears, a bullet wound.

Closing my eyes, I saw the doberman's shade staring down at me with a venomous expression.  Apparently he could see my base form and had realised who I was.
"I had nothing to do with it," I whispered.
Yeah, right... came a faint echo.  He gave me the finger and disappeared.

"Hands in the air," said a voice behind me.  I arose and complied, turning to face its owner.
"I had nothing to do with it," I said again, this time for the benefit of the guards as they attempted to arrest me.
"I'll be the judge of that," said the officer and I promptly lost my patience.
"'I'll be the judge of that, Sir,'" I retorted, revealing my headwings, backwings and turning my right hand to display the duplicate ceremonial ring that Page had given to me so many decades ago.

The effect of this was electric.  The three guards stood to attention immediately and the officer began to mumble a grovelling apology.
"That's enough of that," I said.  "Alert the other guards.  This man has been murdered by a sniper on the roof of the central bank and you must find the perpetrator at once.  I will not have people taking pot shots at my citizens."

It was only later, as one of the guards and I sorted through the dead dog's effects that I suddenly realised that the sniper was most likely targetting me.

Over the next few weeks there were a number of other murders.
In desperation I took to wandering around in something very close to my true wolf incubus form, hoping to draw fire into the projectile shield I had cast, but to no avail.  Only one of the victims survived, a feline incubus whom I managed to save by combining their own energy reserves with mine to keep them alive.  If I or another Creature of similar skill had not been at hand as he died there would have been another funeral.  Most of the victims were Beings, though.

I began to brood about the problem, until I was disturbed by Ashley one fine morning.

"I have good news, Mi'lord," he said.

"From Macura Province?" I asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid not, sir, but it's about the assassin.  We have caught them at last."

"Very good, Ashley.", I smiled.  "Have him sent to the second board room in five minutes."

"Certainly, Mi'lord.  It's a 'she', though.", he added.

I sat at one of my desks, adopting the cynical expression I normally used for such occasions, mercifully rare though they were.  The vixen was led into the room, held in check by by two guards although she didn't seem to be struggling.
As she stood before me, I turned her weapon over in my hands, a high-velocity rifle.

"Very neat," I said.  "Where did you get this?  It seems to be based on one of my own designs."

As I spoke, I shuddered, recalling the efficient way in which it had been put to use.  Her victims didn't even know until after their bodies had died.

"You're going to kill me anyway.  Why should I help you by betraying my sources?"

"Whatever.  You know, at first I assumed you were after me.  I can understand that, but it soon became clear that you actually intended to kill other people by preference.  And if there is one thing that I cannot stand," I said coldly, "it is someone who goes around committing wanton acts of murder for their own sick pleasure."

Putting the rifle back on the table, I began to check the semiautomatic which I had taken to carrying with me.

"Pleasure?" she spat, "You think I enjoyed doing this?  You don't think I have any regrets about what I've done?"

"Well, that's the usual motive," I said casually, placing a couple of live rounds in the gun.  "But if it isn't the case this time, I'm all ears."

She looked at the gun sadly.  "You're right," she said.  "I don't deserve to live anymore.  But what I did to my victims was a better fate than they would have suffered in your hands."

"Oh, please." I snarled.  "You're the one who's just murdered six innocent people.  They were happily minding their own business until you came along and blew their heads off."

"I needed the money," she screeched.  "You wanted my motive?  That's why I did it.  I hated myself each time I fired!  The only thing which kept me going was the knowledge that you had them marked!
You were going to eat their souls!  You would have.. erased them if I hadn't got to them first."

Am I really that bad?

"I was going to kill you," I said as I flicked the safety back on, "but I've changed my mind.

"I'm a reasonably capable actor, you know.  Most 'cubi are since it helps us stay undercover and keeps us alive.
Murder doesn't come naturally to me and even though it would have been just for me to do to you what you did to those poor wretches, you can have no idea how much effort it took to steel myself to end your life.  Let alone act as if it was something I do every day.

"I could have ordered your death of course, but that is the coward's way out."  As I spoke, I removed a bottle from a drawer in my desk.

"I always confine my punishments to the physical realm," I continued.  "That's where I have jurisdiction, not the world beyond.  When I feel that the crime is sufficiently evil I may take it upon myself to end someone's life.  It leaves me feeling truly wretched afterwards, for I was taught to believe that life is sacred.

"And if the short life of a Being is sacred, then robbing someone, anyone of their afterlife is surely a crime far, far more heinous than any mere murder.  I do not believe I have the right to take such an action."

"You mean you haven't ever...  you weren't going to..."

"No.  Well okay, so I took a chunk out of Ulric's soul when he came to slay me but that doesn't seem to have done him any lasting damage, has it Ulric?"

Let me go at once, demon filth... whispered the bottle, causing the vixen's hackles to stand on end.

"Oh dear.  Apparently he hasn't learned his lesson yet," I smirked, putting it back into the drawer along with the pistol.  My expression softened as I looked back at the vixen who just sat there, gazing numbly at the floor.

"Come on, it's not that bad," I said.  "Okay, so someone conned you into murdering six innocent people.  That is a punishment of its own, for I see now that you are after all, that most precious of commodities.. an assassin with a conscience.
"What you have done will haunt you for the rest of your days, and I think that in this case, it will be punishment enough.
The one consolation as far as you're concerned is that you, I and your former employer are the only ones who know that you are responsible.  Many of my public seem to believe that I am the killer.  We can't have that, though, so I shall have to tell them otherwise.  After all, the murders will stop, at least until your master finds a new sniper."

I looked at her intently.

"And I can stop that too, with your help.  I could break down your mind to get this you know, but I don't want to do that.  So I'm asking you to tell me just two things.. who sent you and how I can reach them.  It won't bring back your victims, but it will stop there being any more."

"And what about me?" she asked.

"Well, that is up to you." I said.  "If your days as an assassin are over, then I have no further designs upon your life.  If you tell me of your employer, you will be free to go.  Having said that, you might prefer to remain here or perhaps go into exile, for the families of your victims may not be as forgiving as I if they ever should discover your identity."

"But he'll kill me."

"That's an odd reason for reticence," I said.  "You were asking me to kill you a few minutes ago.  But it is a 'he', then, is it?  That's interesting."

I was silent for a few minutes as two thoughts suddenly collided in my mind, forming new elements like the particle accelerators on Earth.

"You know, the way he's manipulated you makes me wonder if it's an Angel," I said.  She didn't reply.

"Let me tell you something about a few of your victims," I went on.  "I learned this from the incubus you failed to kill."

"Failed?" she asked, turning to me with a start.  "How?"

"Oh you killed him all right, it's just that I managed to resurrect him.  I've learned a lot about resurrecting  Creatures.. too bad I didn't study Beings as hard.  In any case, I could not have done it alone.
He is still recovering in the SAIA medical department, but he did manage to tell me something very interesting.  He was a member of a secret organisation, one which has been a thorn in my side for quite some time.

"You see, they have some irrational belief that I killed Page, the city's original founder, and occasionally they send people to kill me.  It was fun at first but now they seem to be worshipping Page and since I consider that to be an insult to his memory, I'm starting to lose patience with them.  But I digress.

This 'cubi told me that their leader was an Angel, one who seems to believe that Page's successor should have been another Angel and not an incubus.  The Page worship thing seems to have been his idea."

"Why would he tell you this?" she asked.

"Well, I saved his life for one.  I guess he figured that I wasn't such a bad sort after all.  Anyway... a couple of the people you killed were members of this group, but now I know that the killings were not the work of a lone sicko, it seems likely to me that they are all involved somehow.  I'll have to double-check that.
And you know what's really interesting?  On the night before your first murder I sent them a rude letter saying I'd kill the next man who accused me of murdering Page."

The vixen was utterly silent, but her eyes changed.  She knew.

"You've got it.  I can see it in your mind.  This angel used you to frame me for martyring the members of his cause.  It's genius... bordering on insanity, I'll admit, but genius nonetheless."
I spoke to her softly, gently.  "Now all I need is a way to get at him, and that is something you can provide.  It would be a fitting way to help repair the damage you have done."

"What about the incubus?", she asked reluctantly.

"He can't remember any more than I have just said.  You caused an enormous amount of brain damage and while he should recover in a matter of months, we don't have months.  Your master will have found another sniper by then."

After a long pause, she closed her eyes and uttered a single word...  "Zarach."

Oooo.

Hire someone, to kill members of your own organisation, making everyone believe it was your enemy, except the person you hired - who believes she was killing your enemy....

Twisty. Evil.


I like it. :-)

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on January 07, 2007, 02:23:07 PM
Oooo.  Hire someone, to kill members of your own organisation, making everyone believe it was your enemy, except the person you hired - who believes she was killing your enemy....
Twisty. Evil.  I like it. :-)

Angelic...

Anyway, I forgot to mention that this chapter brings the word count above Gareeku's Furrae Chronicles for the first time (at 41'306 words vs 40'694 by my calculations).  I mention this because it was FC and especially the RP which inspired me to work on this story.  And there's still around 300 years of plotted history to go... that said, I'll probably jump ahead a century or so fairly soon unless I get some other ideas in the meantime.

Yes, it was an interesting turn of events. But why are you counting words and comparing them to FC?

Just one thing I noticed: where it says "A allowed a faint drowsiness to wash over me..", it should be 'I' instead of 'A' and there's a missing '.' at the end.

OK, who came up with the 'A' smilie?

Quote from: Gabi on January 07, 2007, 03:47:30 PM
Yes, it was an interesting turn of events. But why are you counting words and comparing them to FC?

I've always admired it and so I've been using it as a benchmark.  I wasn't sure if I'd be able to make it last as long as Gareeku's story.  (I'm kind of hoping it may spur him into resuming the story as well  >:3)

QuoteJust one thing I noticed: where it says "A allowed a faint drowsiness to wash over me..", it should be 'I' instead of 'A' and there's a missing '.' at the end.

Thanks, I'll fix that now.

**EDIT**
What was that with the missing '.'?  Do you mean the ellipsis only has two dots instead of the usual three, or is there an unfinished sentence somewhere?

Quote from: Tapewolf on January 07, 2007, 04:03:15 PM
What was that with the missing '.'?  Do you mean the ellipsis only has two dots instead of the usual three, or is there an unfinished sentence somewhere?

The former. Sorry if I wasn't clear. I didn't know how to say ellipsis in English.

Glad to hear from Ulric again... heh. Lovely chapter, of course.

One typo that I noticed: "The one consolation as far is you're concerned is that you, I and your former employer are the only ones who know that you are responsible."
Did you mean 'as?'

Quote from: Hilary on January 07, 2007, 05:07:18 PM
One typo that I noticed: "The one consolation as far is you're concerned is that you, I and your former employer are the only ones who know that you are responsible."
Did you mean 'as?'

Fixed.  Thanks for spotting that.

Chapter 20

Ashley stood before me with a dour expression upon his face.  I bade him stand before me to deliver his report.

"Mi'lord, I bring grave news," he began.  "The Angel, Zarach, has escaped the city."

"Damn," I said, and gave a sigh.  "Well, it's not a disaster, is it?  We have broken up his loony band of rebels, and he won't be causing us any more trouble.  Put out his description and any photographs we have of him.  If ever he returns to Ha'Khun we shall have him."  I gave my special smile.

"I have taken the liberty of doing that already, Mi'lord," he replied, "but I fear it will not come to much.  You see, he has fled to Macura Province, sire."

I stared hard at Ashley, as he was behaving very strangely.  In fact the only time I had seen him do anything remotely like this was in his rash youth, when he had incurred my wrath for his attempt to behead a then-disarmed assassin.
Ever since that day, he had devoted all his energies to proving himself, and by now was practically my right-hand man.  To see him act so demurely must have meant he was very, very frightened.

"Go on," I said.

"He has fled to Macura, and... and made contact with your ancient enemies.  They have now been taken into protective custody by Governor Khano of Macura, who is refusing to extradite them to Ha'Khun.  He has caught two of our agents and executed them, Mi'lord." he gabbled.

"WHAT?!?" I screamed, my wings and headwings fluffing out in shock and fury.  Ashley made a sound very much like a kitten being trodden on as I stood up, the deadly anger that burned upon my face clearly visible to all.

"Get up," I snapped.  "Pull yourself together!  They will not get away with that.  Ashley, I want a strategy drawn up for an attack on the capital.  Invading the governor's palace is to be our main strategic objective... I do not care what it takes.

"I will have those demons and their allies brought before me, Governor Khano included.  When we have annexed this precious Province of his, I will show that fat bastard what happens to those who so blatantly defy Johan Cross!"

Ashley looked very shaken as he left, and on any other occasion I would have felt guilty.  But the anger burned fierce in me that night and I was numb to all feelings except my desire for revenge.

By morning I felt quite different, subdued and unhappy as opposed to wrathful, and I summoned Ashley to my chamber.
"Perhaps I was a little hasty," I began.  I could be completely frank with Ashley, even though I was a demon overlord and he was just a Being.  "A war will likely cost hundreds of lives, maybe more."

"I fear it is too late now, Mi'lord," he said.  "The battle plans are well advanced, and to back down now might be perceived as a weakness on your part.  It could quite conceivably result in our own invasion if word of it were to get out, for your... reputation... is one of the key factors that keeps the region stable."

"You are right, as ever, my friend," I said, and Ashley turned away - he seemed to be rather embarrassed by this remark.
"And of course invading Macura would have its up-sides too... ridding the world of Khano, for example."

Governor Khano was a tiger, an exemplary specimen who went a long way to proving the old adage that felines tended to be cruel.  That his ancestors had demon heritage did not help either, and had lengthened his years far beyond his natural span as a Being although in most other respects he seemed to be fairly ordinary.
While I was suspected of killing hundreds of dissidents, Khano didn't bother to hide behind such ambiguities, instead preferring to behead criminals in public.  While this did achieve an even lower rate of crime than Ha'Khun, it had come at a price that even Johan Cross was not prepared to contemplate.

In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I wondered why I hadn't done anything about him before.  Probably it was because, as Ashley had said, the balance of power in the region was somewhat fragile.
This was still a concern, but if it allowed me to get my claws around the necks of those demons, regional instability would be worth the price, to say nothing of ending the death penalty in Macura Province.  In any case, it was far too late to back out now.

"Tell me about the two agents who died," I said.
It was not a pleasant conversation, and squeamish as I am, I had to ask Ashley to skip some of the more explicit details.  Nonetheless, I had their names, and the difficult task of informing their next-of-kin.


I cannot bring myself to speak in detail of the war which I embarked upon.  There were many deaths, of foe and friend alike, and I consider it now to be one of the most hateful things I did in my career as ruler of Ha'Khun although my analyst, Delna, assures me that it ultimately turned out for the best.

One of the few consolations was that the bulk of the fighting lasted mere days, although sporadic fighting by small pockets of resistance persisted for a number of months following.
This remarkably quick operation was largely by virtue of the way we took them by surprise, aided not least by my strategy of warping my shock troops into the capital by means of the portal.  Thus, the palace was captured almost immediately, decapitating the nation in a manner eerily reminiscent of what Khano was wont to do to his own enemies.

I was tempted to give him first-hand experience of why executions are wrong, but he escaped my justice, taking his own life before I could avenge his victims.

I think the main thing which upset me about the whole endeavour was the fact that the demons had vanished without trace.  Since they were the cause of the war, it came as a bitter blow to me.  Zarach too had fled, to the neighbouring realm of Port Okra, and I had sent agents to follow him also.

But in spite of these failures, I had doubled the size of my realm.  I changed the name of my prize to "Khiann Province", after one of my dead agents, and the capital was henceforth known as "Tiera" in memory of his companion.
As with Ha'Khun city, I opened it up to all races, posting one of my more trusted men to act as Governor.

The real prize was Governor Khano's son, Bhalo - a spoiled and thoroughly obnoxious prince of about fifty.  Supposedly the child of his tiger father (now recently deceased), he took more after his wife, a lynx who had been executed shortly after the birth in the apparent belief that she had been unfaithful.  Khano had nonetheless grudgingly brought his son up as an heir, finally accepting him as his true son once it became clear that he was not ageing past twenty-five.  This curious upbringing had instilled in Bhalo a hatred for all things lynx, and he had tried very hard to kill Ashley upon sight, slaying several of my guards in the attempt.

Wanton murder is one of the few things which makes me angry enough to take the lives of others, and I would have killed him then, but I had a better idea...


When Port Okra decided to invade us, the story was rather different to the invasion of Macura Province.
Whether they acted out of panic at seeing their neighbour fall, or whether as I would like to believe, they thought Ha'Khun to be weakened by our attack on Macura, I cannot say with any certainty.  But I can safely say that they had no idea of what they were letting themselves in for.

Lacking Azrael's portal technology or my own personal skill at teleportation, they were forced to use the more conventional approach of sending troops.  Many men died, the result of the enemy's own prowess, countered by the fact that we had a team of snipers upon the slopes of the Black Mountains.

This initial carnage only ceased when I intervened in person, my troops falling back as if in rout, leaving me alone to face them, armed only with a projectile shield.

Their leader simply could not believe my audacity and began to taunt and heckle me.  When I finally grew bored of this, I snapped my fingers and his entire battalion slumped into a state of unconsciousness as I cut through their primitive mind-shields like butter.  He most certainly did believe my audacity after that encounter.

Now I was the master of three realms, and unhappily, more were due to follow, not least because Zarach had fled yet again.  In both cases there were Creatures who were in high favour with the previous administration and something had to be done about them.
Some reluctantly embraced my new regime, others refused and were expelled from the realm, their possessions confiscated and their egos savagely beaten.
One chose to rebel, and I slew her with my tentacles as I had slain the bosses of Zarista Clan over a century before... yet another face to haunt me when I ponder my old crimes.


Decades passed, and in due course Ashley came up for retirement.
I been planning this moment for some time, but I had not told him a word of it - after all, he might have refused.  Chuckling to myself, I wondered what he'd make of it, but whatever he might have said before, once it was done I was pretty sure that he wasn't going to back out of it.

"I have a surprise for you, old friend," I said, entering his chamber to find him reading a book by the fire.  He looked up at me, and suddenly his body went limp.  With care, I removed his glasses and pocketing them, slung him over my shoulders and carried him down to my laboratory.

On a stone table there was another figure, breathing rhythmically as he lay in the same state of unconsciousness as Ashley.  I placed my friend upon a second slab, and stood between them clutching a jewelled pendant.  I placed a hand upon each cat's forehead, the pendant posing a slight problem in that it required a third hand, but one of my wing-tentacles served this purpose adequately enough.

The difficult part was going to be clearing off the residual memories in the brain so that they could be replaced with the personality data from his soul, but I was pretty sure I would be able to handle it.  Basically it was either that or run the risk of losing Ashley altogether.

The entire operation took about 45 seconds of extreme concentration.  Standing over the young man, I probed his mind gently.  It was confused, but I had suspected as much.  I left him to sleep for about an hour, examining the elder lynx in the meantime.

"Happy retirement," I said to Ashley as he awoke.  "Of course, you might want to consider postponing it for another few hundred years or so."

"What are you on about?" he said, and stopped, because it wasn't his voice that came out.  Sitting up, he turned to one side and saw his own body lying there.

"Oh my Gods," he whispered, and looked down at himself, pawing at his fur and examining the spot patterns.
"That's... I'm... the prince kid from Macura.  How on Furrae did you manage that?  Soul transference?" he shivered, remembering what 'cubi can do to souls, and stared at the lifeless body besides him with a look of dawning horror.

"Good guess," I said.  "And before you ask, no, he is not soul-dead.  I've managed a complete transfer and he should recover shortly, although what he'll say when he comes out of it is anyone's guess.
"I could have slain him outright of course, but then I realised how much he resembled you, and what a waste it would be given that his body should be good for a few more centuries at least.
"You know, Ashley, I don't think you quite realise how much I've come to depend upon you, and the prospect of losing you was not something I was willing to endure."

"Well, you certainly think long-term, I'll give you that.  Where did you keep him all this time?"

"In a cupboard," I replied.  Ashley's reaction was priceless.

"Let me get this straight," he said, growing more accustomed to his new body.
"You kept the part-demon heir to Khiann Province locked in a broom cupboard for the last thirty-odd years?"

"More-or-less.  I cast a zero-tau field around him to keep his body in suspension.  I could probably have just locked him up in one of my dungeons, there was a risk that he might decide to follow his father's way out.  So I kept him in stasis.  The only real problem was when I needed to revive him, as I couldn't remember exactly which cupboard it was."

While Ashley recovered from the operation quickly enough, the real Bhano was not so lucky.  Although Ashley had once been younger himself, Bhano had never experienced old age and the shock deranged him.  It was easy enough to have him committed to an asylum in Port Okra where no-one would recognise him, and he spent the rest of his days there telling everyone that he was the real governor of Macura.

"I couldn't remember which cupboard" *bwahahahahahahaha*

Lovely story, Tapewolf. As ever, I await the next chapter. :-)

Quote from: Tapewolf on January 21, 2007, 11:29:40 AM
"You know, Ashley, I don't think you know quite realise how much I've come to depend upon you..."

An extra word there.

I'm glad to hear that Ashley will be around for a while yet. Was the news of the soul-switching broadcast to the public, or did people think that Ashley had suddenly gone insane and Bahno had become Johan's right hand man?

Heheh. Cupboard. :giggle

Quote from: Hilary on January 21, 2007, 03:39:48 PM
An extra word there.

Sorted.

QuoteI'm glad to hear that Ashley will be around for a while yet. Was the news of the soul-switching broadcast to the public, or did people think that Ashley had suddenly gone insane and Bahno had become Johan's right hand man?

Good point.  I was thinking more in terms of his incarceration somewhere further afield, for example, Port Okra, where they don't know who Ashley was.  It would probably be the 'new' Ashley who organises it anyway.  Actually I've just added that to the text.

I was wondering whether anyone would pick up on this:
http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=647.msg81085#msg81085
...my third posting from that sequence in particular is the giveaway.  We're still some way away from that point though.

Actually, since then I had been wondering whether it was the same Ashley, and if so how he had managed to live that long. I guess that explains it.

Quote from: Gabi on January 22, 2007, 03:35:53 PM
Actually, since then I had been wondering whether it was the same Ashley, and if so how he had managed to live that long. I guess that explains it.

Originally the plan was to use a succession of host bodies, but with 200 years to cover that would have exceeded Jakob's corpse quota by three or more.  Superluser's timely unearthing of Amber's line about half-demons in the Abel's Story thread gave me the missing piece of the puzzle.

Heh. Nicely solved.

I have caught up! Finally! :boogie ... *collapses* :mowdizzy So much... to read... must talk... like Shatner...

A very nice story, even though I am one of the few (I assume) who read it without getting any outside references (to Gareeku's story/RP for example), so I guess I'm missing some of the more "Ohhhhhh!"-tastic bits. Ah well, can't win'em all, and it's proof that your story stands well on its own :)

The Dark God arc was a nice break from the norm (The Phoenix Oracle seriously cracked me up, just like the "It was like that when I got here, Lord" bit.) and is one of my fav segments so far. Loved the bit about the High Priest pointing at nothing when the Dark Lord is starting to realize that something went very, very wrong... :giggle

Only thing that (very lightly) irked me is that some chapter breaks conveniently skipped past the climax at some points (like going from Zarach's mention straight to him fleeing while his rebel group has been broken up, or the invasion of the capital/palace (EDIT: Even though the critical parts of that are explained in partial flashback, so it doesn't really count)). I understand that skipping parts is necessary (God knows I'll have to do that with my own fic... once I get Kitzi past his first two days at SAIA :P), but it creates an odd fast-forward effect in mid-arc now and then. Not complaining, just noting. :)

And Jakob's throne room should have revolving doors, considering how many assassins are trying to get in ;)

*bweeeheeheehee*

"So, can we get revolving doors installed here?"


.. Then, of course, there is the trapped revolving doors trick - they walk in, the inside door closes, the outside door closes, and they're stuck going around and around and around, like a hamster, and can't get out. :-)

... or is it just me that thinks that that's funny?

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on January 30, 2007, 09:00:09 AM
"So, can we get revolving doors installed here?"

.. Then, of course, there is the trapped revolving doors trick - they walk in, the inside door closes, the outside door closes, and they're stuck going around and around and around, like a hamster, and can't get out. :-)

You have a very cruel sense of humor, and I like it! Besides, the mental image of Johan Cross' Assassin Hamster Wheel of Doom amuses me to no end :D

"Are we there yet?" - "No, just a few more rounds... should be there any minute..."

Quote from: Sid on January 30, 2007, 08:56:08 AM
I have caught up! Finally! :boogie ... *collapses* :mowdizzy So much... to read... must talk... like Shatner...

A very nice story, even though I am one of the few (I assume) who read it without getting any outside references (to Gareeku's story/RP for example), so I guess I'm missing some of the more "Ohhhhhh!"-tastic bits. Ah well, can't win'em all, and it's proof that your story stands well on its own :)

Thanks.  I've begun the process of revising it for DeviantArt.
The first two chapters may be found here:  http://tapewolf.deviantart.com - I've been making a number of adaptations to get it to work on its own, i.e. without prior experience of DMFA.  The opening paragraph in the first chapter has been rewritten to help explain what Jakob is without actually revealing that he's an incubus, and I will probably make further improvements further on.

QuoteOnly thing that (very lightly) irked me is that some chapter breaks conveniently skipped past the climax at some points (like going from Zarach's mention straight to him fleeing while his rebel group has been broken up, or the invasion of the capital/palace , but it creates an odd fast-forward effect in mid-arc now and then. Not complaining, just noting. :)

Usually it happens when I'm completely stumped for how to handle it.  I might fix some of these in the DA versions, but no promises.  The next chapter, when it's ready is going to jump about two hundred years and will probably be the last one for this era, after which I'll be looking at Jakob's return to SAIA.

QuoteAnd Jakob's throne room should have revolving doors, considering how many assassins are trying to get in ;)

Hmm.  That's giving me a few related ideas, although the bulk of the assassins were sent by Zarach, and I still haven't decided whether he's survived or not...

Well, it looks like there will be an extra chapter before the end of this arc after all...

Chapter 21

About seventy years had passed and I had taken control of six territories including the Kingdom of Rhiann, of which Macura had formerly been a province.

The Kingdom had been an unexpected bonus, for the King had seen his neighbours fall and had personally ceded his entire Kingdom to me in order to prevent further bloodshed.  I had not actually planned on invading him, but who was I to turn down such a magnificent gift?  It was probably the result of his demon outlook that the strong ruled over the weak by right.  I was so pleased that I allowed him to continue ruling his land upon my behalf, although it was now but a province of Ha'Khun, and he sent me regular tributes.

Ashley and I were locked in the throne room.  I had left strict instructions to my staff that an important meeting was in progress and we were not to be disturbed under any circumstances save dire emergency.

"What about 'STUDER'?" he asked.

"Certainly not," I replied irritably.  "No surnames or foreign languages, and that word is both."

"Nuts," Ashley replied, and picked the letters back off the board.
Just because you're losing, he thought, before suddenly realising that his mind shield had slipped for a moment.

"WHOLE SEXY VIBRANT GIMP", I said, studying the board.  "Dunno what that says to you, but what it's sayin' to me ain't good."

I was about to suggest an alternative word for my friend when I noticed something flicker out of the corner of my eye.  The letters fell from Ashley's open hand and skittered across the board as I turned around.
A cowled figure stood before us in the centre of the throne room.

"That's impressive," I said.  "But wouldn't a Warp-Aci have been easier?"

"Those are for girls," he replied and threw back his hood to reveal grey fur, vulpine features and feathered headwings.
"You are Jakob, are you not?" he continued.  "My name is Daryil."

The name was familiar, but I couldn't place it.  As I stared back at the fox, he gave a thin smile and there was a strange light in his eyes.

"You don't recognise the name?  That's a pity, but perhaps this will jog your memory."
As he spoke, he gently tugged at the sleeve of his robe until his wrist was entirely visible, lines of power glowing upon the curves of his clan marking.
My clan marking.  Daryil Clan.

"Oh my Gods," I whispered, and fell to my knees.

"I have been watching you on and off for centuries," he said.  "and your father before you.  Alas he has fled to SAIA and is now beyond my reach.  You, however, are here outside where I could easily track you down."

My hackles began to rise as he spoke.
"Oh come now... get up, get up.  I must say I am most impressed by your achievements.  It's quite a nice empire that you have here."

Shakily, I rose to my feet, staring back at my Clan leader in fear.

"If I may ask, how many souls would you say you have eaten over the years?"

"Nuh... none," I replied shakily.

"Tut, tut," he said.  "You won't make it past three thousand if you don't vary your diet.  But that doesn't matter right now.  All that matters to me is that Azrael is gone and now there is no-one to stand in the way anymore."

His casual reference to Page's death stung me, but the fear choked it back.
I had no idea what he was talking about, but it couldn't be good.  Most likely he had decided to relieve me of the burden of leadership, taking my hard-won territory for himself.  Whatever it was, he'd evidently been planning it for a long, long time.

"What do you want?" I said in a frightened voice - not exactly the voice you'd usually associate with Johan Cross, but he only smiled.

"Originally I had come to bring you back to the fold, to make you a true  member of Daryil Clan once more, but I think I prefer it here.  Ultimately it's up to you.  I have, as I said, been watching you for a long while, and I believe that the time has come for me to make a proposal to you."

There was a strange, almost pathetic smile upon his face, and as he spoke he stepped closer and closer until suddenly he threw his arms around me, causing my wings and headwings to fluff out in alarm.

"Oh Jakob," he cried - Oh shit, I thought - "I want you.  Say you'll be mine."

Ashley's eyes were trying very hard to leave their sockets.  Mine were too, and it wasn't just because my leader was squeezing me rather hard.

I had been extremely tense, psyching myself up for a battle against my own Clan leader - a battle which I knew I could not win and would quite likely have seen him eat my very soul - but which nonetheless had to be tried.
Although I couldn't hope to win, I might at least have distracted him long enough to allow Ashley and just maybe myself as well to escape to SAIA.  If I could avoid paying the ultimate price in the meantime.

I knew precious little about our clan, but Daryil had a reputation as a wily, crafty old fox.  That he might have fallen in love with me was not a thought that had even vaguely occurred to my mind.

I struggled slightly and the besotted vulpine released me.  He stood there holding a flower with an expectant expression on his face.  "I love you," he said simply.

"Uh, look," I said, unsure what to say.  After all, how do you phrase something like this to a powerful Creature who can crush you like a bug?

"I'm flattered," I continued.  "Really I am, but I... I don't think I can go through with it."

My leader's face fell, and then turned to anger.  Whoops.

"You!" he snarled, facing Ashley.  "Of course, I should have realised!  Another handsome young spotted feline.  You're a substitute for Azrael and you took my rightful place by Yak's side!  Well it ends now, pretty-boy!"

Daryil's fingers began to glow for a moment as Ashley shrank back, but then his expression suddenly changed again.

"No...  that isn't the answer..." he mumbled, "he'd never forgive me."
The powerful leader of my Clan looked like he was about to cry.

This guy's out of his gourd, I thought wildly.  How the hell did this madman found our noble clan?  Or is that why we split from them?  Because Daryil Clan proper are a bunch of utter fruitcakes?

"Him... me...?" said Ashley, looking at me with a very strange expression.  "Are you suggesting what I think you're..."

"Um, look," I said.  "Noble leader, I think you've got the wrong end of the stick.  I'd be honoured to join you and I'd love to take you to be my lawful... um, something, but the simple fact is I don't swing that way."

Ashley looked relieved.  Daryil just stared.
"But... so... what about you and Azrael, then?"

"No, absolutely not.  No way.  Never ever.  Nuh-uh."
In the back of my mind I was sure I could hear Page laughing fit to bust.

"But,"

"NO!!!  I've tried it of course, but women interest me more."  Now Ashley was staring again.
"What?" I said, exasperated.  "You don't spend four hundred years stuck in an academy full of shapeshifters who are permanently twenty-something without some experimentation."

Ashley's face said it all - Too much information!

"But you're supposed to!" wailed Daryil.  "It's a Clan trait!"

"What?" I yelped.  Now it was my turn to stare, but I recovered quickly.
"That's ridiculous!  Petter married a she-wolf and had kids.  I had kids with a vixen, eventually leading to Niall."
Daryil's ears pricked up at the mention of my great-great-grandson.

"You touch him and we'll have to pick a new clan leader," I snarled.

"Duly noted.  I see your confusion about the clan trait, though." he said.  "It's not all-or-nothing, it's a population control device.  Once you've had enough children to ensure the clan's survival, you're supposed to switch polarity.  It prevents the clan growing too large and exceeding the resources available to it."

"But you founded the clan.  Why should it affect you too?"

"You forget - I was the one who recoded our clan DNA to enable this feature.  I had to try it on someone.  Who better than me?"

"You... reprogrammed yourself... to fancy other men?" I spluttered.

"Yes, hon."  He was still looking at me wistfully, and it was starting to make me feel rather uncomfortable.
"It was supposed to be passed down from generation to generation.  I guess it must have mutated when your family broke away from the Clan.  Either that or you haven't had enough children yet."

"I see," I said, with a touch of sarcasm.  "And what other weird and wonderful 'features' have you engineered into our unsuspecting Clan's bloodline?"

"Well, the wolf-heads on your wing-tentacles, obviously."  He grinned, proudly.  "Complete with real, working eyes!  Took me a while to figure that one out, although I must admit I copied the idea from Cyra Clan.

"Then there's the affinity for teleportation.  It's not built-in, but I've made a number of changes to the brain structures to allow more rapid development of teleportation, without any of that messing around summoning Warp-Acis.

"And finally, there's the best bit.  Have you ever seen someone die?"  He paused for a moment.
"Yes, I can see it from your expression.  As 'Cubi, we can manipulate souls, so I figured - why shouldn't we be able to see them, too?  Of course it only really works when the soul has become separated from the body - usually following death - and retrofitting it to the visual cortex was difficult to do without disrupting the existing visual subsystems."

Well, I thought, our glorious leader may be a basket-case, but he certainly knows his metabiology.

"So in other words, if I close my eyes when someone's just died, I can see their shade."

"Yes," he said, and gave a lovelorn sigh.

"Would you mind explaining the theory behind that?"  I asked.  "If you know that much about Azrael, you'll know that I'm still interested in anything that might help me to raise the dead,"

"Very well," he said.  "On one condition..."

"No!" I yelped, backing away from him.

"No, no... You say you're more of a ladies' man, well I won't press you.  All I ask is that if ever you do change your mind, I get first dibs, okay?"

"Erm, alright," I said, praying feverently that it wouldn't ever happen.

Daryil and I spent three hours in my study, discussing our clan and exchanging notes on 'Cubi metabiology and resurrection.  Finally he departed, and upon that same day every year since, a single rose has been delivered to my palace.

The ordeal over, I turned back to the scrabble game and let out a roar of fury.
Ashley, the cheating bastard, had added at least two more words to the board while I was out of the room.

That was... quite original. Half funny and half disturbing, in my opinion.

I love the two extra words.

That just makes it totally hysterical. :-)

Quote from: Gabi on February 03, 2007, 05:59:28 PM
That was... quite original. Half funny and half disturbing, in my opinion.

It was half-disturbing to write, as well - and this is not an area which I'm intending to revisit, either >:3
Of course if you want to be really disturbed, I couldn't finish the second chapter of Zedd's story.

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on February 03, 2007, 06:50:21 PM
I love the two extra words.
That just makes it totally hysterical. :-)

I wondered if I'd overdone it, to be honest.  Regarding the scrabble board, the line about "VIBRANT SEXY GIMP" was actually said by my brother during a scrabble-like game we were playing with fridge magnets¹.  I wish I could remember what the first word was though.  I did write it down, and I may revise this if I ever find the real word.

"I've tried it of course, but women interest me more" is taken from 'Illuminatus!' by Robert Anton Wilson and Robert Shea.  I personally have not 'tried it' and do not intend to.

I was never sure whether to make the clan leader truly insane or just winding Jakob up for some nefarious reason.  I haven't excluded that possibility.  Originally Fa'Lina was going to explain about the shades-of-the-dead thing.

---

¹You pick a core word, in this case 'Vibrant' and attempt to use all the remaining letters to build valid words - it's infuriatingly addictive.

The fridge at the time looked a little like this, but with another word that wasn't 'Whole'.


G
VIBRANT   W
M        H
P        O
          L
         SEXY

C,D,F,J,K,Q,U,Z

My various reactions to this:
1: this should be good. :>
2: oh snap  D:
3: :wtf
4: oh... oookaay... a little extreme but it makes sense... :E
5:   :, ->  xD -> :lol

one thing though:

QuoteFinally he departed, and upon that same day every year since, a single rose has beed delivered to my palace.

I think you ment: "...a single rose has been delivered to my palace"

A very humorious chapter overall.

Quote from: Drake Manaweilder on February 03, 2007, 07:30:45 PM

QuoteFinally he departed, and upon that same day every year since, a single rose has beed delivered to my palace.

I think you meant: "...a single rose has been delivered to my palace"

Fixed, thanks.

MWAHAHAHAHAHA :3
*cough* :animesweat

Priceless chapter, and not at all disturbing in my eyes. Then again, I've read and written things of higher ratings, so Daryil trying to get some quality time (and more) with Jakob doesn't really faze me. Even though I'll freely admit that it caught me off-guard ;)

Jakob's frantic "No, absolutely not. No way. Never ever. Nuh-uh." reaction totally cracked me up, just like his explanation about SAIA experimentation and the reaction to this fairly odd Clan trait. :D

Sort of a pity, too. Jakob/Daryil snuggle-romance could've been cute...

And somehow, the idea of the ultimate, hardcore overlord playing Scrabble is hilarious, too xD

Quote from: Sid on February 04, 2007, 10:20:50 AM
Then again, I've read and written things of higher ratings, so Daryil trying to get some quality time (and more) with Jakob doesn't really faze me. Even though I'll freely admit that it caught me off-guard ;)

That wasn't what I found disturbing. It was Dariyl's experiments, and the fact that he used himself as a test subject.

Aww, poor Daryll.  :giggle :rose

It might have made more sense for him to simply program the guys so that they would become sterile... but this way's more fun. xD

Quote from: Hilary on February 04, 2007, 05:02:11 PM
Aww, poor Daryll.  :giggle :rose

It might have made more sense for him to simply program the guys so that they would become sterile... but this way's more fun. xD

Well one reason is that if the clan is unexpectedly massacred the survivors can still reproduce (out of duty if not love).
That and Daryil has a few screws loose.

just the odd one or two, yes.

I like the rose, too. That's a nice touch. "I'm still soft for you, but I'm leaving you your space" sort of message. :-)

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on February 04, 2007, 07:52:18 PM
I like the rose, too. That's a nice touch. "I'm still soft for you, but I'm leaving you your space" sort of message. :-)

Actually that idea was borrowed from "The Silver Wolf" by Alice Borchardt.  The dynamics are a little different though, not least because there's going to be like 125 of the things before Jakob leaves the fortress...

... stored somewhere?

Magically preserved roses seems... so anti-Johan that I can see Jakob doing it, just to screw with people's heads. :-)

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on February 04, 2007, 08:12:13 PM
... stored somewhere?

Magically preserved roses seems... so anti-Johan that I can see Jakob doing it, just to screw with people's heads. :-)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-McBb3Oia9Q
(I'd almost forgotten about that one - isn't youtube wonderful?)

Chapter 22 - Warning, contains violence

Two hundred and ninety-five years had elapsed since Azrael had been slain, and in that time I had learned much that is hidden, dark magic in particular.  I had had my high points, and my low points.

Once I had woven a spell to show me the moment of Azrael's death so that I could learn more of his killers.  To my surprise I saw the shades of Azrael and the demon who had slain him, shaking their heads as I pursued the survivors through the castle all those centuries ago.

In times gone by I had carried a gun with me at all times, but since a vixen sniper had proved her skill in killing unsuspecting innocents from afar, the concept of the gun had lost something of its charm.
The last victim of my semiautomatic was the Angel, Zarach.  The vixen's shooting spree was ultimately his fault, having deluded her into the belief that by shooting his own followers she would be saving their souls from being eaten by me, and so putting a bullet through his head seemed to me a fitting justice for his deeds.

Fitting or not, I had decided that he should be the last to die by my hand in such a way.  To this end, I destroyed the blueprints and outlawed the manufacture of anything more advanced than a flintlock.  The weapons which I had already made were useful in the defence of the realm - indeed, they were part of what kept Ha'Khun safe from invasion - so I was not about to give up that advantage entirely.
For this purpose I maintained ours existing stocks and ensured that there was a supply of ammunition, made in secret within the fortress, but never again would I carry a gun of my own.

Another thing I had to my name was a room of the castle which was now entirely filled with roses sent to me by my clan leader, Daryil, who still believed that I would one day become his lover.
I had been unsure what to do with his unwanted gifts at first - my natural inclination had been to throw them onto the compost heap in the palace gardens, but he had preserved them by some means and they remained fresh.
Burning them was an option, but I quickly realised that he would be watching me as he had in the past - and if he got the idea that I was not interested in him at all, he might come to kill me.  So I put them in storage.  One hundred and tweny-five years later, I had a room full of the damned things.

But today I sat brooding upon my throne, casting my mind back upon these thoughts and others.
There was a sign outside the door which read:

ASSASSINS PLEASE NOTE:

• Business hours are 9:00 - 5:30
• Please deposit last will and testament in box provided
• Kindly knock and remove shoes before entering

One of my assailants had actually been foolish enough to heed this sign and I had quickly overpowered him by stamping upon his feet.


"Happy Birthday," said Ashley, and clapped his hands twice.  The door to the throne room opened, and one of my guards entered.

"These are the prisoners, Mi'lord," he said, tugging upon the chain that bound two weasel demons.  I stared at them in disbelief for a few moments, and then my mood began to harden as I realised that centuries of planning was about to bear fruit.

"You!" I shouted, "You killed Azrael!  Mere death is too good for what you have done.

"But before I decide your fate, pray tell me what possessed you to return to my territories?  Were you going to have another crack at taking over Ha'Khun, hmm?"

The weasels stared back at me, a silent act of defiance.

"ANSWER!" I shouted, but they would not.

I chose the more surly-looking one and stared into his eyes with my usual sneer of contempt.  A moment later he was screaming with agony as I smashed his mind-shield like a pane of glass.

"Yesh we were," I said out of the corner of my mouth like a bad ventriloquist.

"I am frankly surprised that you didn't learn your lessons the first time," I continued normally.
"Ah well.  Ashley, I am very grateful for your present, but I must ask you to leave if you would be so kind.
I desire I few moments alone with my... friends."

Ashley hesitated, but he could tell by my mood that I was not to be trifled with.  It was as much for him as for me, since I didn't want him to have to see what was about to take place.

At last one of the demons spoke.  "What of your ancient principles?" he whined.  "Didn't you say that all lives are sacred?"

"Indeed they are," I told them, "But some are more sacred than others."

My tentacles shot out, closing around their necks and choking off their whimpers of terror as they realised that their lives were over.  I stared intently at the pair with an expression of stark lunacy, their fear sweet as ambrosia, and I began to laugh, a loud peal of demented laughter.

"It's twelve-thirty," I said, and as their terror reached its peak I took their heads from their shoulders.  There were two thumps as their skulls hit the ground, the floor and my own fur tainted with crimson as the severed arteries shed their load.  In spite of this, the two demons weren't actually dead until the shock set in, and even then I wasn't finished with them.

Laughing with the pleasure of the kills, I closed one eye, watching the two shades coalesce as their brains died.  But before they could flee into the afterworld, I took hold of their spirits, reeling them in like fishes and feeding upon their energy.  As I watched I could see their figures becoming dim as I feasted upon their immortal souls.

Oh, how tempting it was to destroy them utterly, but Azrael's own words came back to me, clearly... almost as if he was watching over me.

"He could quite easily have destroyed your soul.
Let's just pray that he doesn't think of that when he catches your companions."

No, I thought.  Not that.  All they did was kill Azrael... what I am about to do is a crime far, far worse.  My own people think I am a monster, and if I continue down this path, they will be right.

Reaching for the chain I wore around my neck, I clutched the two jewels and they became warm in my hands.

"I shall wear your souls around my neck," I said to the faintly-glowing jewels.  "I swore to make you suffer for this, and you WILL suffer!  For ever and ever!"
"Amen," I added sarcastically.

I suppose it was all over rather quickly.  Perhaps I should have felt disappointed at the anticlimax to my three-hundred year wait, but on the contrary I was ecstatic.  Perhaps it was due in part to the high from the kill, or the fact that I'd glutted myself on their terror and pain, but whatever it was, it certainly felt good.

Leaving instructions for the demons' bodies to be burnt and their heads placed upon pikes outside the fortress, I retired to bed.  With Page finally avenged, I felt able to sleep for the first time in many hundreds of years.


That night I dreamed a dream, my first in nearly seven hundred years.  I was walking through a stone corridor, with the jewel-trapped souls around my neck and Azrael by my side.

"I've been watching you ever since my death," he was saying.  "Many things which I have seen have pained me greatly.  I have been hoping against hope that you would in time recover and see the error of your ways.  But I fear now that this may never happen of its own accord, and that is why I am visiting you tonight, old friend."

"I did it all for you," I said.  "Everything.  I have torn the land itself apart to find your killers."

"I know," he sighed.  "And frankly, I don't know whether to be touched or appalled.  I have made peace with my killer, yet you have committed many crimes in a monomaniac quest for a vengeance that simply does not interest me."

"Crimes?" I asked, in a puzzled tone.  Azrael looked at me sorrowfully.

"You have done murder, although I grant you that many of those deaths were justified to some degree by your duty to protect the realm as its patron.  But you have also joined forces with the underworld and terrorised millions of citizens - our own citizens!  And then you embarked upon a series of conquests, invading other realms for no good reason that I can fathom.

"Are you sure it will make you happy, slaying your three demons?  Can't you see how far you have strayed from the original vision of Ha'Khun?  What happened to our dream of a Furrae free from hatred and war?  Wilson's dream?"

"Johan Cross happened to it," I said, and began to cry.

"There there," said Page, his hand upon my shoulder.  He was crying too.  "At least you can see it now."

"I see it," I wept.  "How could I have been so stupid?  So wrapped up in my own petty plans for vengeance that I couldn't see how I perverted the dream of Ha'Khun?"

"Power corrupts," he said.  "Never forget that.  As Creatures we must always remain vigilant or we will become monsters.  You have resisted it better than most, but your soul has still been tainted by what you have done."

"But what can I do now?  What would you have me do to make amends?"

"The answer to that lies with you, I fear.  Now that I have helped you to see the error of your ways, my part is done.  Nonetheless, I believe that if you seek to help others, you will be able to heal yourself."

I awoke soon after, and when I did I knew at once what I had to do.  Taking a parchment and the relevant seals, I wrote a letter proclaiming my leave of absence, leaving the realm under the stewardship of Ashley.  I also included an amendment to my laws, providing that Creatures and Beings were to be considered equal within the realm, something that Azrael and I had enforced by preference but needed to be enshrined in something more durable than the whims of the then-ruler.

As I placed Azrael's ring in the envelope, I found that I was whistling to myself.  This caught me by surprise, until I suddenly realised it was because I was free.  I would not have to listen to my advisers anymore or solve other people's petty problems.  The burden of my leadership was at an end, for despite what the document said, I had no intention of returning.

Packing a bag with some of my most treasured possessions, I included the tape which Page had recorded our conversation about the HMS Resolution so many centuries ago, one of the few surviving recordings of his voice.  Among other things, I also took his treatise on gate manipulation, Daryil's notes on advanced metabiology and the bottle containing Ulric's soul.

Reaching for the charm that Fa'Lina had given me so many centuries past, my hand yet again snatched away at the last moment.
I went to inspect the turbine hall in the basement of the fortress one last time, and ensure that the staff tending it could cope with my absence.  I had other reasons too - the hydroelectric generators were the cornerstone of Ha'Khun's technological edge, and I had designed them myself.  In a way they were a link to my younger, innocent self, and stupid as it sounds, I would miss them.

Rather than teleporting, I decided to walk the entire way, although I had to avoid the throne room.  There were still bloodstains upon the floor, a grim reminder of last night's slaughter.  What had then seemed sweet now brought me close to vomiting, a symbol of how far I had fallen.

All life is sacred.  This had been my guiding principle from the outset, but of late it had become mere words, an inconvenient slogan to be circumvented and worked around with clever excuses.  That ended now.
Clasping the two jewels that held the immortal remains of my victims, I swore that I would never again move to take the life of another Being or Creature unless there was no possible alternative.

The engineer within me satisfied, and vowing to build more generators in future, I decided to end my time in Ha'Khun with a stroll through the central park before I left, for it was one of my favourite walks through the city.  As I gazed into the fountain, I was suddenly startled as a hand clapped itself upon my shoulder.

"Ashley," I said sadly.  "You shouldn't be here.  You're supposed to be running the city."

"Come on, Yak," he said.  "Two can play at the abdication game.  I don't know where you're planning to go, but I'm coming as well, like it or not."

Laughing, I took him by the hand and my other closed upon the charm around my neck.


"No," said Fa'Lina.  "This is supposed to be a 'cubi academy, not some kind of youth hostel for all and sundry.  You are an incubus.  He is not, therefore he is not welcome here."

"Oh come on," I said impatiently.  "You have other Demons and Beings on campus, so what's the big deal about one more?  I can vouch for his integrity if that helps you at all."

"He'll need to eat!  We have quite enough non-'cubi, and I am not looking for any more."

"Well, those are my final terms," I said irritably.  "You've been trying to get me to join your staff for centuries and it's not like you to suddenly just throw an opportunity like that away, but ultimately it is your choice.

"You want me to help set up and run this new Being Technology department, right?  Well if you want to have me on board, Ashley comes too - otherwise I go elsewhere.  I'm sure the military academy at Xe'Pherion City would be very interested in the weapons technology I have at my disposal."

I smiled inwardly as the all-knowing headmistress of the Succubus and Incubus Academy blanched.  Apparently my long absence from the Academy had fogged her ability to predict things where I was concerned, but she'd heard about my guns and my threat to sell the technology to the highest bidder had clearly upset her.  And then there were the rumours I had spread about the uranium bomb.

The only risk was that I might have gone too far.  Fa'Lina might decide I was a threat to our race who had to be eliminated at all costs.  But who else might I have told?  And would killing me stop it, or make it inevitable as my followers unleashed her worst fears out of vengeance?

I may have been bluffing, but she had seen for herself what a sniper rifle in the hands of a mere Being could do to a fully-trained incubus - indeed it was only by the skill of the Doctor and myself that he had survived.  The Doctor...

"Is the Doctor still looking for test subjects for his drug?" I asked suddenly.
"It's up to Ashley himself of course, but that would seem to be the only compromise."

"The serum?  It is usually far more trouble than it is worth.  Besides, Ashley is a... what?  Part-demon?  You know there are side-effects.  He'd be a very weak incubus and Clanless as well!"

"So bond him to my Clan," I said.  "His demon heritage should make the process simpler than a pure Being."

"Very well," she replied with a faint air of relief, and her usual demeanour slowly began to return.
"If he is happy to accept the risk, then that is what we will do.  Obviously you shall be responsible for his actions, at least to begin with, and he will have to attend classes to understand his new abilities.  But when he is not otherwise occupied, I see no reason why he should not become your assistant.

Provided he survives the treatment, of course."

---

**EDIT**
Fixed typo in possessions list, added Ulric.
Xe'Pherion City was created by Azlan.  Used with permission.

oooo.

Promises, promises. :-)

Hmm, no-one seemed to like the end of the Cross arc, ah well.  This one is more of a bridging chapter to bring us up to speed for #24.  That and I've had a bit of writer's block, so a lot of this is reworked from the original story.  Not everyone's read that, though.

Chapter 23

A set of colour bars wavered and gave way to a hand covered in thick grey fur.

"Stop goofing around," said a voice - my brother's.

We had removed the items from our heavy backpacks... a tripod, a microphone and a pair of headphones, which had fitted snugly upon Izak's head.  Delicately, I took out two silver machines, jewel-like in their design, and milled from solid blocks of aluminium.

The first, an Ampex VPR-5 which I had purchased on Earth more than fifty subjective years ago, and which had been lovingly rebuilt at the SAIA Being Technology department a number of times since then.  I had recalibrated it myself that very morning.  The second was a Nagra 4.2 loaded up and ready to roll.

The Nagra was used to record the soundtrack at a higher quality than the linear soundtrack on C-format videotape would allow, although it made editing a little more complex.

I chuckled, remembering how Izak's sensitive nose wrinkled in disgust as I broke the seal on a fresh reel of 1-inch videotape - by contrast I had breathed the scent in with a smile, and reinvigorated, began to lace the tape upon the recorder.

A few moments later there was a cut and I saw myself standing there, composing myself for what I was about to say.

"This morning we are coming to you from the hills of Crow Valley, a strange and beautiful place which is believed to have been created by a deranged Fae.  And it is here, as the year begins to draw to a close, that we can find among the damp leaves, some of Furrae's most appalling fungi.

"Here on this branch, for example," I continued, "is the rare, worm-eating slime mold, which is actually capable of moving around and devouring prey.

"Over there, and I dare not get too close, is the fearsome death-cap mushroom, which, if consumed, kills within hours.  Indeed, the toxin is so poisonous that it can cause sickness at a range of up to six feet.  The only known cure is magical regeneration of the affected organs."

As I spoke, Izak zoomed the camera in upon an otherwise unremarkable-looking white toadstool.

"Even worse than the death-cap is the giant Doom puffball.  If disturbed, it will explode, which can result in serious injury."

Upon the screen, my miniature self picked up a small pebble and threw it at one of the round, white blobs for effect.  The blast knocked me flat and left a green stain upon the screen where the vidicon tube had been overloaded.  The blast had been fearsome - even seeing the replay made me cringe.

Shortly after that, Izak had turned off the camera for about five minutes, giving the smear time to fade, and myself time to recover and unruffle my feathers.

I would also have to remove some choice swearing in the editing suite, although I was sure that the outtakes would be shown around the Academy again and again.
I made a note of the timecode, and then swore again as I remembered that we had left the Nagra running.  That was going to mean re-synchronising the audio and video after the cut.
Ah well, I thought to myself, where would the fun come from if it was perfect every time?

There was a cut as the tape began rolling once again, showing an image of me pausing to sniff the air before donning a pair of night-vision goggles.  Having caught this spectacle on tape, Izak had put on a curious helmet containing its own internal video display, simultaneously plugging it into the recorder's monitor line using his wing-tentacles.  This was taking place behind the camera however and the only visible sign was when he knocked it slightly causing the image to wobble.  We could soon edit that out, though.

"Now this fungus," I added by way of explanation, "is so deadly that we cannot even look at it directly."

As I spoke I searched through the heather until I came across an oddly-shaped rock, which I picked up and held before me.

As the camera zoomed in, it became clear that the rock was in the shape of a large feral brown rat.

"We are looking for the Reaper mushroom, which occurs only in this particular valley.  It is so deadly that if you so much as glance at the mushroom's gills while the moon is visible in the sky, it will immediately turn you to stone - as this poor rat has discovered the hard way.
You can usually locate them from the stone corpses found nearby.

"It is a truly remarkable, and very, very appalling fungus."

So saying, I was striding towards a large stream.  Izak kept the camera steady upon me.  Removing the goggles, I stared intently at the water, and then, with a flash of wing-tentacles and a spray of water, I brought out a small fish.

Replacing the goggles, I had returned to the spot where I had found the rat.  Banishing my tentacles lest their heads also gaze upon it, I cleared back the heather so that Izak could get a good picture of the deadly thing.

Slowly I placed the writhing fish upon the ground under the large mushroom, whereupon it immediately became grey and stopped flopping around.

"Isn't that appalling?  Now, if we look over here... yes...  the grey radshroom.
These are usually found very close to the Reaper mushroom."

Izak handed me a small Geiger-Muller counter.  As I held it over the fish, it began clicking furiously.

"As you can see, the fish, having been transmuted into stone, is now highly radioactive.  But the radshroom absorbs the radioactive energy for food, like so.."

With a stick, I prodded the stone fish closer to the grey mushroom.  As I did so, the Geiger counter began to ease off, and the mushroom slowly began to change colour from grey to green.  Taking the stone fish, I snapped it in two, revealing the now-calcified internal organs and showing them to the camera.

Again there was a cut.  Once we had sufficient footage of the Reaper mushroom and its hideous effects, Izak and I had moved the camera rig bodily to the bank of the stream where I had caught the fish. 

"Finally," I said, standing before the camera with my goggles removed once more, "we will be looking at something slightly less appalling, the Crow Valley song-algae.  Here you can see the algae, on the bark of this fallen tree.  Notice that it grows in distinct clumps.

"Now, the fascinating thing about this algae, is that if it is struck, it will emit a sound.  Each clump will emit a different tone, depending on its age and species.  By finding a log with a variety of different algae, it is possible to play songs on it.  Izak?"

Izak came back from behind the camera tripod, to be relieved by myself, as I donned the headphones and took over recording duty.  On seeing my signal, Izak strode into the centre of the stream, and suddenly exploded into a hedgehog of arms and tentacles, each clutching a small rock taken from the bottom of the stream.

So armed, Izak stood before the log and poked each section of the algae in turn, causing it to squeak.  With a sly grin, he began frantically bashing at the log with all his arms and tentacles, capturing the sound of 'Greensleeves' on the microphone.

This done, he handed the mic back to me as I stood once more before the camera to record the farewell.

"Next week, we are hoping to have an interview with the legendary Crow Valley panther.  From Jakob and Izak, good day."

I froze for a few moments, giving us enough material to fade or cut to the credits.

"...aand cut!" said Izak.  Moments later the screen went grey as the noise suppressor kicked in.

I gazed sightlessly at the test pattern as the tape ended, pondering over which segments to keep and which to edit out.  Suddenly my reverie was interrupted as Ashley knocked and entered the editing room, two pairs of wings protruding from his back and from his head.
Despite the fact that he was part-demon, these wings were coated in the same grey feathers as I was, one of Daryil's changes.

Daryil himself had readily agreed to assist in joining Ashley to our Clan, having experimented with 'cubification himself in the past.  His sole proviso had been that the lynx have the words "by appointment" etched in magical tattoo beneath the clan symbol which now glowed proudly down the side of his chest.

Ashley could easily have concealed this marking, but he was still immensely proud of his newfound 'heritage' and dressed like most of the other male students - flamboyantly and naked to the waist.

"I can lend you a shirt," I said, my conservative dress sense somewhat offended by his insistence on such skimpy attire.

"Ha ha," he replied, rolling his eyes.  "Fa'Lina wanted me to let you know that we're about to bring the fourth generator on stream."

"Ah!  Excellent!  I'll be right over."


One of my first tasks in reconstructing the technological peak of Ha'Khun was to provide a power source.  Hydroelectric power was not practical within the Academy, but there were alternatives.

Wilson would not have been impressed by the means I eventually settled upon - atomic fission.  Nonetheless, it was the most suitable and thinking about it he might even have agreed in the end, since we had no interest in nuclear weapons and as the radshroom aptly demonstrated, magic could even stabilise the radioactive waste through transmutation, rendering it safe.

Having been forced to wait for about four hundred years to hire me as a lecturer, Fa'Lina was extremely disappointed to discover that I was actually pretty useless at it.  Nonetheless, as far as I am aware there was no-one else in Furrae who knew as much about humans and their world, let alone their technology.

Eventually we found a compromise - I wrote course material and did my best to teach my fellow lecturers what I had learned, so that they could teach it themselves and do a better job of communicating it to the students.

Fa'Lina had offered me tenure to pursue my own experiments with technology, but I declined, preferring to remain a freelance agent.  This was how it went in theory anyway - in practice I was pretty much free to do as I pleased, the only real demand being that I was expected to help run the technological infrastructure.

To begin with I worked on direct conversion of magic to electricity, and some of the converters I designed were used to supplement the experimental reactor.  I still preferred hydroelectric though, as the sheer size involved was impressive.  Once you'd seen a giant dam feeding a cathedral-sized hall filled with mighty turbines, anything less seemed pretty feeble by comparison.

My big break had come when I had brought back a 16mm print of an educational nature film shot on Earth.  Fa'Lina had immediately seen the potential and requested that I look into the possibility of filming our own.  'Cubi are good actors, and I was no exception, having put these talents to questionable use during my wicked reign of Ha'Khun.

Perhaps Fa'Lina believed that by making these films I would eventually make a better lecturer, but either way my first attempts had been well-received and I had been commissioned to produce many more - a task I was only too happy to perform.

"I think she wants to talk to you about the computer as well," Ashley added.

Damn...

Ooooh, the documentaries!

Chapter 22 was amazing, sorry I didn't comment on it earlier.

You have a repeated "a" near the beginning of chapter 23.

It was funny to see the Cubi serum at work again, even if I was a member of the resistance (and still would be if the serum became a threat again).

So... there's a computer now?

That's a cool chapter...and now that I've read the whole story, nice writing in general.  I liked the end of the arc, actually.

The documentary segment is neat too...the funny thing is though, I watched a nature documentary a couple of days ago in class.  And I can't stop imagining that Jakob might sound EXACTLY like David Attenborough there.   :P

Quote from: Gabi on February 24, 2007, 01:00:15 PM
Ooooh, the documentaries!

Chapter 22 was amazing, sorry I didn't comment on it earlier.

Oh, that's okay, I'm not doing this solely for praise, but I do like to know if I'm still moving in the right direction.  IIRC 'Quest for Twelve' is still running on 2003 material, which is one of the reasons I've been a little quiet on that - commenting on a re-run seems a little redundant (correct me if I'm wrong).

QuoteYou have a repeated "a" near the beginning of chapter 23.

Fixed.  Thanks.

QuoteIt was funny to see the Cubi serum at work again, even if I was a member of the resistance (and still would be if the serum became a threat again).

You may have noticed the notes on Cubification which suddenly appeared in the Wiki  >:3

QuoteSo... there's a computer now?

I made a small reference to it in Furrae Chronicles, but I won't say any more because that's what chapter 24 is about, when I get it finished.  It's about 3k short and it's third-person at the moment.  I'll probably have to do the switching thing like I did when Niall Cartwright was introduced.

Quote from: Aisha deCabre on February 24, 2007, 01:55:01 PM
That's a cool chapter...and now that I've read the whole story, nice writing in general.  I liked the end of the arc, actually.

It was rather bloodthirsty.  I wondered if that put people off, but it has to be that way because that's what caused Jakob's squeamishness.

QuoteThe documentary segment is neat too...the funny thing is though, I watched a nature documentary a couple of days ago in class.  And I can't stop imagining that Jakob might sound EXACTLY like David Attenborough there.   :P

Guess what the 16mm film he showed Fa'Lina was?  >:3  [has the Life of Birds series on DVD]

I once saw an outtake of David Bellamy stepping on a frog he was documenting... I don't think I've ever seen any Attenborough flubs.

Oh - I forgot to add the logo Turnsky sent me - it's on the first page of the thread now.

And I'm about ready to roll with 'Future History'... but I'll probably create a new thread for that one and add to CJP as and when I get more inspiration.

"By appt"

*giggle*

The Bellamy frog thing is also pretty funny.

(IOW, I'm still reading, and enjoying, the story.)

future quote of the never happen: "Unfortunately once I started recording my fellow Cubi with the video camera, after a few years, I soon realized many weren't as wonderful actors as I had once beleived,  in fact more then half of the footage was blooper reels of some of the less coordinated Cubi at the academy, and then I was it with inspiration when a young cubi named Abel went into the library and I had accidentaly left one of the cameras on... unfortunately Fa'lina perma- banned Abel from the library soon afterwards.  However this facinating discovery of porn has opened a new window of opportunity."

*chokes*


Oh, that's classic, GT. :-)

Oh, no, commenting on reruns is not redundant. It helps me to know what the readers think, so I can use that knowledge in my future writings. And I'm still writing Quest of Twelve, so I can still use it towards the end. That, and I'm revising the old chapters before I post them here. Not making any major changes, but I may rephrase a few things which weren't clear enough and things like that. So I'd appreciate the input.

Where in the wiki are those notes?

Quote from: Gabi on February 25, 2007, 12:08:57 PM
Oh, no, commenting on reruns is not redundant. It helps me to know what the readers think, so I can use that knowledge in my future writings.

Oh right.  Okay then.

QuoteWhere in the wiki are those notes?

It's a footnote at the end of 'facts and trivia' in the 'cubi' article which points to the 'Cubification' thread, in particular Amber's comment about how it's possible but not usually worth the hassle.  Do you think it's worth splitting to a separate page of its own?

(If so, it might be worth discussing it in the wiki thread, rather than here)

Chapter 24

Eric worked for a large computer corporation, one of the more prodigious names of the 1980s, second only to their big competitor whom they sometimes referred to as 'Inferior But Marketable'.  While their business of selling few larger minicomputers would ultimately run dry as they failed to adapt to the new world of many smaller desktop machines, that time had not yet arrived.

Eric, blissfully unaware of what was to come, worked as a field technician.  Today he had been sent out to see a client in an industrial estate somewhere around Newport.

As he approached it, he noticed a curiously derelict air to the building, although the same could be said for many other buildings in the estate, and there was certainly a light on in the reception.
It didn't seem to be a particularly large office, though... perhaps the number of terminals in the customer database was wrong.  Most likely it had listed the entire organisation's installation rather than just the units in this local branch.

As he parked and entered the building, he was greeted by a rather bored-looking receptionist.  "Mr. Peterson will see you shortly," she said.  "If you'd like to take a seat..."
Eric did so, and his feeling of unease increased as he noticed that the building was quiet and empty.  Very quiet and very empty.

S&I Limited, he thought.  I wonder what they do?

A few moments later the pallid figure of a man strode through the door, and shook his hand warmly.  "Mr. Dalton, I believe?" he said, "follow me, please."
As he led the way, Eric heard a noise and glanced behind him.  Turning back, he saw the receptionist turn off the light and walk to the front door, locking it with a loud 'clunk'.  Oh my God... he thought, but the worst was yet to come.

Turning a corner they entered an empty room.  "Where's the VAX?" asked Eric.
"It's just through here," said Peterson, opening a door into a room so brightly-lit that Eric had to shield his eyes.  He couldn't make out any internal details in the room at all. Turning around, he could see the receptionist following behind them.
"Come along," said Peterson, and the three of them stepped into the room.

There was a very strange sensation, and when Eric opened his eyes again, he saw a corridor decorated in pastel shades.  What the hell? he thought, and turned to look at the room where they had come from.  But it wasn't there.


Peterson led him into the machine room, where a VAX 11/785 stood purring away to itself.  There were a pair of 9-track tape drives, a number of disk packs and he could faintly hear a lineprinter in an adjacent room.
The CPU module had the words "Property of the Succubus and Incubus Academy" etched into it by some curious means that Eric could not immediately determine.

"I should have asked you before," said Peterson.  "But you do know why you're here, right?  A couple of dead terminals, and I'd like the VAX upgraded to two hundred and fifty-six megabytes."

"Uh, yes..." mumbled Eric, "I.. I might have to get some of the parts from my van.."

"Damn," said Peterson.  "Ah well.  Check the terminals out first, then."
He gestured to a stack of three VT100 terminals, and Eric, in a desperate bid to take his mind off the strangeness and the horrible notion that they were most likely going to kill him as soon he had finished, forced himself to examine them.

Mr. Peterson stood back, watching what he did with an intent gaze.  It was a curious thing, the circuitry was quite dusty for a machine that couldn't have been more than about six years old.  Indeed, one of the terminals had failed because an electrolytic had dried up, and that usually took more than a decade.
Furthermore, there was an abundance of what appeared to be hairs.  Now that he noticed it there were quite a few of them caught in the tiled carpet floor as well.

"Do you keep dogs in the computer rooms or something?" he asked.  Peterson seemed to be rather taken aback by that question, but he answered almost immediately.  The funny thing was that Eric couldn't quite remember what he actually said, but it made perfect sense at the time.

When the third terminal was dismantled, the door suddenly burst open and a figure entered, with the words "Hey Yakob, where did you put the..." followed by a scream of fear.  No, two screams... Eric and the thing.

It was a tall cat-monster with wings coming out of its head.  It looked at him with an expression of sheer terror, and backed against the wall.

"NO, Ashley!" yelled Peterson.  "Did you not get the memo?  I cordoned this area off to try and prevent this from happening!  Human form ONLY until the upgrade is completed!"

Eric had never believed in demons before, although after his experiences on this callout so far, it made a warped kind of sense.
As he looked back at Mr. Peterson, he suddenly noticed that he had grown a tail.  Peterson looked at him in alarm, and made a curious gesture.  Then everything went dark.


"I'm sorry it had to be like this," I said gently to Eric as he came to.  "I really was hoping we could do everything in human form, like the original installation.  It was for your own comfort, really."

I looked into his mind, feeling his thoughts as his eyes focused upon me, seeing a wolf-like creature with a small pair of wings on its head (my head) and a large pair protruding from my back like some kind of twisted angel - or so it seemed to Eric.  From my voyages into the human realm I knew that the human conception of Angels, Demons and Incubi came with rather different connotations than to someone who had been born and raised in Furrae.

I was wearing in the same kind of clothes that I had worn in my human form, mainly to give Eric something to latch onto.  I had been forced to change the top though, because of my wings.
Behind me, Eric saw the other creature - the one with the lynx ears, was looking down at him worriedly.

"Please excuse me," said Ashley.  "I thought we were going to do this next week.  I have heard of humans, but I've never actually seen one.  They are considered to be a dangerous mythical creature in our world."

"Your world?  Where am I?  And what are you?"

I briefly considered the pro's and con's of erasing his memory, but it was probably too far gone by now.

"'I mean you no harm' has always sounded rather trite to me," I said, "But on this occasion it is true.  And before you ask, no, you are not in Hell.

You are in another plane, upon a world we call 'Furrae', which is lamentably behind yours when it comes to technological matters.
Hence, when I decided that the Being Technology department of our university required a computer system, rather than design my own I opted to purchase one from Digital Research Intergalactic - whom I chose on the grounds that they already had some experience dealing with extraterrestrials."

"That's not us.  We are Digital Equipment Corporation."

"Indeed.  It proved quite a disappointment, not least because they chose their name on a whimsy and not because of their target market.  My appearance in base form at their UK office caused quite a stir and I was forced to erase their memories.  They didn't even sell computer systems of the kind I require, so I came to you instead in the errant belief that your companies were related.

"Nonetheless I am reasonably satisfied with your computer - the sole exception being that more and more students are requiring access to it, and I will need the memory upgraded."


Upon realising that he was in no real danger, Eric resumed the job and soon enough the minicomputer was upgraded as I had intended.  Warning him to leave DEC before 1992, I sent him on his way with a small protection charm as a tip.

All in all, the upgrade went rather well.  There was just one problem.  As a light came on in the security system, I realised that I hadn't closed the link with Earth properly.

Reverting to human form I raced back to the portal, and found three burly newcomers in dark blue clothing.

"You shouldn't be here," I said.  "You're from the future."  They ignored this.

"BSA.  I have come to inspect your software licenses," their leader began.

"Really?" I smiled, "I hope you're good with TOPS-20 and VMS."  He ignored this too.

"Listen," I said, "you are trespassing on private property.  If you really must inspect the computer systems, then I suppose you can - but you do so at your own risk.  Do you understand?" Indeed, no-one would ever find your corpse, I thought and then mentally slapped myself.

"Don't be difficult," he said.  "I can have a warrant for this place at the drop of a hat."

"I'll take it that's a 'yes' then," I said with an air of resignation.  "Come this way..." I led him and his two cohorts into the machine room.

"Where's the..." his voice trailed away as he saw the VAX.  "You use that?"

"Yes.  There is a 9000 series in the, er, next room," I faltered. The 'next room' was actually a hyperrealm I had created.

That installation had been quite a challenge, because we didn't have space for it inside and I couldn't do anything too magical that would upset the human installers.  I had eventually settled on having it installed in a prefabricated building outside and dimensionally transposing it afterwards so that the interior of the shed was connected to the broom cupboard.
The outside of the shed had imploded, and I was not entirely sure what would happen if we drilled too far into the walls of the mainframe room, although the professor of dimensional mechanics assured me it was quite safe.

Sod it, I thought.  If these goons get awkward, hyperdimensional geometry is going to be the least of their worries.

"Enough games.  Where are the Windows machines?" he said in a furious voice.  "Every business has at least one Windows box.  Show me where they are."

"Are you threatening me, human?" I said, with what Eric would have called an angelic smile.  I locked the door and when I turned back to face them, my smile had become what a Being might call an angelic smile - the smile of Johan Cross.

"The DEC engineer thought I was a werewolf," I said, enjoying their confused stares.
"Actually I'm a demon.  An incubus if you want to get technical."

I love theatrics, so as I snapped my fingers the lights went out.  I took a small gold cigarette lighter (inscribed with the name 'Keyser Soze') and lit it, raising it slowly until they could see my face.  A human with head-wings was guaranteed to give me a tasty reaction, and I was not disappointed.

When the lights came back on, I was all fur and teeth and Ashley was standing next to me.  I had cut a hole in my mind-shield so that he could tell what was going on.

"You know, Fa'Lina has been bugging me for years to try and get her a few human specimens," I said to him.  "The problem is that most of the humans we get were invited, and dissecting guests would be downright rude."

"But these humans weren't invited, were they?" he said.  "I think we might have a solution to that problem now."
One of the BSA agents made an almost canine whimpering sound.

"Oh look," I said.  "A portal leading back to Earth has just opened up in that wall!  Perhaps, if we close our eyes and count to ten, the humans will not be here anymore and we won't have to take them to the Headmistress who might want to find out whether eating a human's soul is any different."

"Good idea, Jakob," said Ashley, and began counting.

Two subjective days later we received an invoice from DEC and a certificate of compliance from the BSA.

Well.. that's one way of solving the problem. :rolleyes

I liked the comparative demonology, though. Especially the part about the angelic smiles.

Oh, there's a missing space on the 3rd paragraph where it says "thecustomer".

Quote from: Gabi on March 10, 2007, 01:36:22 PM
Oh, there's a missing space on the 3rd paragraph where it says "thecustomer".

Thanks.   I have also changed the mainframe to '9000 series' (I wrote that bit while offline) and changed 1996 (when I thought Compaq bought them) to 1992 (when Ken Olson left and they had a huge number of layoffs).

For the curious, the main setup would look rather like this:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Vax780_small.jpeg

I'd love to do that to some BSA thugs. I really would.

.. I'd have expected them to be thin weedy geeks, though. Or at least, a geek accompanied by two thugs...

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on March 10, 2007, 04:04:44 PM
I'd love to do that to some BSA thugs. I really would.
.. I'd have expected them to be thin weedy geeks, though. Or at least, a geek accompanied by two thugs...

Well, the latter configuration is what I was aiming for, although I might edit it to reflect that a bit better.

Years later Eric purchased a wii, his hair had become grey somehow, as the eighties and ealy ninties had not been kind to him, upon inspection of his home I dicovered drug periphenalia and several shiny mirror like disks with names like "Britney Spears" and "Spice Girls" enscribed upon one side of them. Eric then began to prattle on about the Olson twins, a team of female impersonators of some sort I assumed this based on several of the other items in his collection. Momentarely I wondered if not killing poor Eric when I had the chance twenty or so years ago was wise, he had apperently become a low level pimp in the City and was now the professional manager of a singer known simply as Baby Spice.

*grin* you're evil. I like you a lot.

Quote from: GabrielsThoughts on February 24, 2007, 05:21:07 PM
future quote of the never happen: "Unfortunately once I started recording my fellow Cubi with the video camera, after a few years, I soon realized many weren't as wonderful actors as I had once beleived,  in fact more then half of the footage was blooper reels of some of the less coordinated Cubi at the academy, and then I was it with inspiration when a young cubi named Abel went into the library and I had accidentaly left one of the cameras on... unfortunately Fa'lina perma- banned Abel from the library soon afterwards.  However this facinating discovery of porn has opened a new window of opportunity."

wait are you saying that Abel is banned from the library becouse he had sex there and the camera filmed it all *burst into laughing*

Quote from: Fex on March 11, 2007, 04:04:07 AM
wait are you saying that Abel is banned from the library becouse he had sex there and the camera filmed it all *burst into laughing*

That is, indeed, the implication, although GT has been clever enough to leave it non-explicit. :-]

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on March 11, 2007, 05:44:21 AM

Quote from: Fex on March 11, 2007, 04:04:07 AM
wait are you saying that Abel is banned from the library becouse he had sex there and the camera filmed it all *burst into laughing*

That is, indeed, the implication, although GT has been clever enough to leave it non-explicit. :-]

*snickers* I thought he burned the place almost down or used the books as ninja stars or so


oh and I like the story's Tapewolf =3 keep it up

Quote from: Fex on March 12, 2007, 02:54:28 AM
oh and I like the story's Tapewolf =3 keep it up

Thanks.  I have a two-part storyline coming up which I'm really happy with, although I still need to polish the ending.  (There may be a cameo in this one, we'll see)

To be honest I could do with some more comments on 'Future History', since that one was actually thought out rather than mostly being improvised like CJP >:3

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on March 11, 2007, 05:44:21 AM

Quote from: Fex on March 11, 2007, 04:04:07 AM
wait are you saying that Abel is banned from the library becouse he had sex there and the camera filmed it all *burst into laughing*

That is, indeed, the implication, although GT has been clever enough to leave it non-explicit. :-]

I am kinda wondering how do you guys know that in the comic they never said anything about it

Quote from: Fex on March 17, 2007, 02:26:16 AM
I am kinda wondering how do you guys know that [Abel had sex in the library] in the comic they never said anything about it

We don't, it's just something GT made up.  It's possible Amber doesn't know what he did either, and in any case I'd kind of prefer not to know because some jokes are funnier when you only know part of it.

My memory is fuzzy, but didn't the library incident have something to do with his taste for confusion?

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...

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.

-Interesting-....

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

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? :)

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....

Quote from: Drake Manaweilder on March 19, 2007, 10:17:25 PM
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 >:3
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.

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 :hug

Quote from: Fex on April 01, 2007, 05:30:42 PM
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 :hug

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  >:3

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

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.   

Nah.

Rave kiddies take E, not weed. :-]

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  >:3

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."

>.> <.< Mwhahahha.

Nice chapter Tape!

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

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"

Very original, and hooking too. :)

Thanks.  And thanks to Paladin for his cameo.

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on April 06, 2007, 02:47:17 PM
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...

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

yay for plottwists :mowcookie

*starts hula-ing*

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.

No probs JP  :mwaha

"arise and walk" bweeeheeheee :-]

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on April 27, 2007, 10:05:33 AM
"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.  >:3

Quote from: Tapewolf on April 27, 2007, 01:28:26 PM
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.  >:3

Vampire, of course? :-]

Quote from: GabrielsThoughts on April 01, 2007, 08:05:50 PM
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.

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.

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.

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on May 11, 2007, 07:11:56 PM
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 :P

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

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)

Ahh! Finally caught up! Took a little longer than I hoped. I am very impressed with all the details and research you did. Very nice history so far.

Quote from: James StarRunner on May 28, 2007, 07:56:30 PM
Ahh! Finally caught up! Took a little longer than I hoped. I am very impressed with all the details and research you did. Very nice history so far.

Thanks.  One of the things which I'm a sucker for in writing is research.  This is peculiar since I was totally useless at it back at University.  Anyway, glad you like it.

Chapter 29  (I wasn't very happy with this one.  Chapter 30 is better IMHO)

"Remove your coat, please," said the guard.  I complied and they began to list the possessions they found in it.

"One yo-yo, one packet of in-ear defenders, one pencil (broken), half an apple, a box of ammunition and a revolver.  Other personal effects: one necklace with two pendants - probably soulstones - one ring, silver, one gold watch."

"Now, if you could resume your normal form, please?" he continued.

"I... I'd... rather not," I replied.

"Come now," he sighed.  "Please don't make this any harder than it already is.  We have spells that can force you to revert, although the process is quite painful.  In addition, the fact that you refused to cooperate may also be used against you in your hearing.  So please, revert to your base form."

Screwing up my eyes, I placed my wrist in my mouth and made the reversion, letting out a scream of agony as the tattered, broken headwing reappeared.

"Oh gods," said the guard, as the blood began to splatter on the floor.  "Can we get him fixed up?"

A few minutes later I was sat in a chair, the pain having reverted to a fierce ache that stung each time I moved my head.  The healers had done a good job, but it still hurt like hell.  Nonetheless I had other things to worry about as the hearing was about to begin.



"Is your name Johan Cross?" asked the Angel.

"No, sir, it is not."  I replied.  "I am Jakob Pettersohn by birth."

"Very well.  There was a period some centuries ago, when a shadowed figure who called himself 'Johan Cross' took control of the city of Ha'Khun.  While no-one knows for sure what he looked like, there are persistent rumours that he favoured the appearance of a grey canid incubus.  He was often said to have worn a dark leather trenchcoat, much like the one you are wearing now.  Would you care to explain that?"

"It is a Hallows Eve costume," I replied.  "I usually wear it then, as Cross still brings a shiver to the spines of furrekind."

"But it is spring.  Why did you choose to wear it today?"

"Because it is intimidating, sir."  I replied.  "My brother and I set off to film some rare wildlife, which unfortunately took us to a Being-controlled area where 'Cubi are not considered welcome.  In addition to its unnerving appearance, the lining contains a thin layer of bulletproofing."

"To be frank, I find this hard to believe," said the Angel.  "I will state my case.  I believe that you are Johan Cross, the crime lord of legend who slew countless thousands of Beings."

"May I ask why this would be your concern if I was?"  I queried.  "Although I am personally fond of Beings, Creature rampages are hardly uncommon.  Why should the council be concerned?"

"Because Johan Cross killed Creatures too," the Angel smiled unpleasantly.  "And I shall endeavour to prove that you are he.  First, the firearm you were carrying."

"It's an airgun," I replied.  "A prop for the costume.  I swore never again to carry a lethal firearm and I have kept myself true to that word.  The mechanism has even been adjusted so that it will only discharge at about one-third power."

"Do you expect us to believe that?" he replied.

"It shouldn't be a question of belief, sir," I said irritably.  "Firstly, the ammunition.  You did check the ammunition, didn't you?"

"Er," he stuttered.

"Fetch the ammunition," called the 'Cubi delegate, passing a contemptuous glance at the Angel.

"Now," I said.  "Open the box."

"It's a trap," whined the Angel, casting a protective barrier around himself as he gingerly opened the carton.  Three colourful spheres fell out and rolled around the table.  He looked at me questioningly.

"Paintballs." I said, as the green one rolled off the table and burst.  "Real ammunition contains an explosive charge, these do not and if you care to put the right kind of ball-bearing in the gun that should work too.  Heck, feel free to shoot me in the hand if you still need to see it proven," I added.

"I shall ask you directly," he snarled.  "Are you the Johan Cross of yore?"

"Very well," I sighed.  "Yes.  In times gone past I took the name of Johan Cross, and did many wicked things.  I am not proud of that point in my life and have been trying to forget it."

"He may be lying to gain notoriety," pointed out the Succubus delegate.  "He would not be the first, either."  The Angel grunted skeptically in reply.

"I don't see why it matters," I pointed out.  "I didn't do that much, all things considered."

"Lies!" cried the Being delegate.  "You slew tens of thousands, and ate countless souls!"

"Do you deny this?" added the succubus.

"Indeed I do.  In my wicked reign I killed, let me see, twelve?  Twelve people.  If you wish I can list them and will admit to being guilty of their deaths.  I have never eaten anyone's soul, although I admit I did serious damage to the souls of two demons.  These souls are still encased within the pendant that I was wearing when I was arrested.  I am not proud of this deed."

"Twelve?"  Asked the Angel in open disbelief.  "This is outrageous!  It is a documented fact that thousands of so-called 'dissidents' were slain!"

"Indeed, this is a matter of record.  What say you, Mr. Cross?" prompted the 'Cubi.

"Mr. Pettersohn, and I deny it.  I slew twelve people, as I have stated.  I feel it is more than likely that your records are at fault.  May I ask where your figures come from?"

"'The Disappeared' by Markuz DeTrulen.  A respected historian of Ha'Khunn."

"I thought so.  But if you read it more carefully, you will note that it does not say what happened to them.  It is true that many thousands of malcontents disappeared during my reign, but I did not kill them."

"So, they simply vanished into thin air, did they?" said the Angel sarcastically.

"Pretty much.  I used an intradimensional portal.  They were deposited in a secret location out of harm's way."

"Do you believe this fairy-tale?" scoffed the Angel, facing his fellows.

"I will grant you it seems unlikely," said the succubus.  "But I will give him the benefit of the doubt.  Anything less would be an affront to justice."

"Thank you, madam," I said.  "Of course, I do not expect any of you to take me at my word.  The legends of my excesses have become mythical and the true facts are known only to a select few.  Indeed, it is likely that I am the only living witness to the entire tale.  I therefore offer proof.  If there is one among you skilled at teleportation, I will be happy to provide the location where my enemies were sent."

"I have a warp-aci.  How do you propose to provide her with the location?"

"If I lower my mind-shield you should be able to read it from my thoughts.  If you can then insert the memories into her mind, she should be able to take you there.  Alternatively I can take you there myself, although I get the feeling you would hesitate before extending that much trust."

Eventually a compromise was reached whereby I was handcuffed to the succubus while wearing an amulet that suppressed my shapeshifting ability.  About fifteen minutes later we reappeared by Warp-Aci, accompanied by a Demon whom I had personally banished all those centuries ago.  He was willing to act as a witness if in return the court would teleport him to his family on the mainland, thus ending his exile.

Questioned by the Demon delegate and cross-examined by the Angel and the succubus, the story he told matched my description almost exactly, which left the Angel fuming.

"I submit that Johan Cross slew the leader of his own clan, and ate his soul, in a foul bid to increase his own evil powers and take command of his own clan!" he said loudly.  There was total silence, except for a gasp of pure astonishment from me.

"This is a grave accusation," said the succubus.  "The soul-murder of another incubus is a most serious matter, let alone the assassination of a clan founder, no matter how obscure.  What say you, Mr. Cr- Pettersohn?"

"I deny it of course," I said indignantly, waving at the Angel.  "This fool has no idea what he is talking about.  May I ask where such a ridiculous notion came from?"

"It is a sworn statement from one Noram Yoaks, a resident of Ha'Khunn.", said the Angel proudly.  He clicked his fingers and a rather subdued looking feline Being entered.

"A Being?" I said, incredulous.  "May I ask how many generations before his birth this alleged event was supposed to have taken place?"  The Angel looked extremely irritable.

"He has a point," noted the succubus.  "Well, Mr. Yoaks.  What say you?"

"It was told to me by my grandfather, who heard it from his mother," admitted the feline.  The Angel, having a short muzzle, covered his face.

"Does he even know who my clan leader is... I mean 'was'?" I asked pointedly.  The succubus glanced at him in askance.  The Being looked at his feet and did not reply.

"I do not think he does," I replied.  "May I call a witness, milady?"

"I do not see why not," she admitted.

"Good.  Then I call upon Daryil, leader and founder of Clan Daryil," I said.  The succubus looked positively alarmed, the Angel nonplussed.  I could see that the succubus knew of my leader's reputation and would rather not have called upon such a volatile personality, but on the other hand she could not sensibly deny what could be the ultimate proof of my innocence or guilt.  In any case she quickly decided that it was worth the inconvenience to show the Angel delegate up for a fool.

With an expression of foreboding, she sent a message and a few minutes later, Daryil appeared, a flowery hat balanced precariously upon his headwings.  He gave me an affectionate look.  I waved back uncomfortably.

"My illustrious leader," I began, kneeling before him completely straight-faced, "I am accused of murdering you and devouring your soul in order to assume control of Clan Daryil.  Your murder allegedly took place somewhere between one and four hundred years ago.  Do you recall this event in any way?"
The Mythos delegate began to giggle uncontrollably.

"No, my child," he replied, equally seriously.  "I do believe that I would remember being murdered."  I thought could hear the Angel crying softly.  The Being had slipped away.

"Thank you Mr. Daryil," the succubus said primly, evidently wishing that he was somewhere far, far away.

"Objection," said the Demon delegate.  "We accept that Daryil is the leader of his Clan, but we have not had any proof that the accused is of that clan also."

Reluctantly I dropped my trousers, exposing the mark of Clan Daryil to the court.  They nodded in agreement as Daryil revealed his own marking.

"Are there any further charges?" asked the succubus, as Daryil left.

"Yes!" shrieked the Angel.  "I accuse him of the murders of the Angels Zarach and Page, latterly known as Azrael."

So, it all becomes clear, I thought, chiding myself that I hadn't seen it coming.

"Zarach was one of the twelve I slew," I said.  The Angel looked triumphant for a moment.  "I submit that this was a lawful execution as patron of Ha'Khunn.  He sent many men to assassinate me and even killed some of those who failed, deluding the others into believing that they had died by my hand."

"Interesting," murmured the succubus.  "Have you proof?"

"Ashley Daryil and Fa'Lina would testify to this," I said, "As would a certain incubus by name of Tarit, the sole survivor of Zarach's killing spree.  I brought him back to the Academy where Fa'Lina's staff were able to revive him."

"Fa'Lina was not available to attend this hearing owing to her workload," said the succubus.  "But she is able to accept visitors briefly."  She vanished, presumably to the Academy and returned about twenty minutes later.

"It is as you said," she stated, to the Angel's dismay.  "I have here a sworn written statement from Headmistress Fa'Lina to that effect."

"That leaves the question of Page," he resumed coolly.  "I submit that you murdered him in order to assume control of the city of Ha'Khunn."

"How dare you," I snarled, my voice cracking.  I was grasping the table hard, my face twisted into a mask of hatred, my hackles raised and my hands trembling.

"Calm yourself, Mr. Pettersohn." said the succubus.  "Do you deny the charge?"

"In the strongest possible terms do I deny it," I said with a supreme effort of self-control.  "He was my dearest friend and mentor.  His murder plunged me into insanity for three hundred years during which I left no stone unturned in my quest to bring justice to his killers.  It was during this madness that I killed my twelve victims, steeped the city in terror, exiled thousands and invaded the neighbouring realms when diplomacy failed.  Page was my best friend and I will not have his memory stained by this evil accusation."
The Angel stepped back a pace or two.

"Do you have witnesses?" asked the succubus, noting that I was clearly overcome with emotion.

"There were no witnesses to the murder," I said, calming down somewhat.  "Only the demons who perpetrated it and they died by my hand.  It took three hundred years to claim them all.  After their executions I was ashamed by what I had become and fled the city.  The wounded souls of these demons reside still within the chain I usually wear.

"Ashley Daryil can testify to my feelings afterwards, though, and Daryil himself believed that Page and I were lovers.  This was untrue," I added quickly.

The succubus was clearly unnerved at the prospect of having Daryil back in the hearing, but she came to attention as I spoke again.

"I do not think a witness will be needed," I said dully.  "If you have a scrying crystal I can show you the event itself."

The succubus looked at me curiously for a moment before clicking her fingers.  A crystal was brought forth, although with a projector, since only about three people at once could look into the crystal itself.
Within minutes the last minutes of Page's life appeared upon the wall, forcing me to relive that terrible event once again.

Great, said Page, with his head in his hands.  Look what you've done!  I'm dead and you've turned the ruler of my city into a psychopath.  You realise that he won't rest until the others are dead too?
I'm sorry.. said the weasel, unable to take his eyes off the staring, mutilated body on the floor.  I'm so, so, sorry..
You're lucky he wasn't thinking clearly.  He could quite easily have destroyed your soul.  We can only pray he doesn't think of that when he manages to catch your companions.
Can we go now? asked the polecat.  His corpse is making me feel ill.

I ended the spell.  The silence was total. 

"Mr. Pettersohn, we hereby acquit you of all charges of murder, both bodily and spiritual," announced the succubus, after a brief consultation with her peers.

"There is one remaining issue, however." she added.  "According to your earlier statement, you left Ha'Khunn once you slew the last of Azrael's murderers, is this correct?"

I nodded.

"Then we find you guilty of abandoning your realm without filing the appropriate paperwork," she continued.
"The fine will be two million gold dollars to be paid up-front or in instalments, as you prefer."

"I do believe I would remember being murdered."

*bweeheeheehee* :-]

Yeash talk about greedy 2 million?!?!

Great chapter JP!!

I have this sudden image.

"You take credit cards, right?" *waves platinum card*

HAHAHA! 2 mil 'cuz he didn't file paperwork!! Oh that is rich! The perfect comedic ending to a serious trial!

You weren't happy with this chapter, Tapewolf? I liked it. Good work! can't wait for the next one  :eager

Quote from: Paladin Sheppard on June 06, 2007, 07:42:22 PM
Yeash talk about greedy 2 million?!?!

I blame the Angel, personally...

Quote from: techmaster-glitch on June 06, 2007, 09:16:51 PM
HAHAHA! 2 mil 'cuz he didn't file paperwork!! Oh that is rich! The perfect comedic ending to a serious trial!

It could well be an accumulated fine over the 70-80 years since he ran away.  One option was that it was a fine because he left the hot tap on, but the Beings would have seen to that.  Besides, it really had to be the Council's fault so that he has a cause to resent them slightly.

QuoteYou weren't happy with this chapter, Tapewolf? I liked it. Good work! can't wait for the next one

I don't know.  It seemed like a good idea at the time, and I'd already referred back to it in the FCRP, but when I actually came to write it I had this terrible feeling that I was out of my depth.  Not least because we know virtually nothing about when the Being-Creature Council was formed or how the sessions are conducted.  It became extremely hard to write without it becoming boring, since most of the things which it refers to have already been described earlier in the series.

Chapter 30 is about 85% complete - all the key elements of the story are in place, it just needs editing and there are a few gaps between sections to cover.  I may delay it anyway to give me time to work on chapter 31 since I only have a vague idea of what's going to happen and 32 is completely blank.

They had to get him for something, didn't they?

The accusations were to be expected, but the interrogation of Daryil was priceless. :mowgrin

I feel I should point out, here, that he -didn't- flee the realm. He handed it to someone he felt was capable of looking after it, no?

In which case, it's not -his- fault that the paperwork wasn't filed - assuming that the person he handed it to didn't file it, and it ended up misfiled somewhere...

I mean, if you die, you're not going to get done for not filling in the paperwork telling the appropriate office that you're no longer running the country, now, are you?

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on June 07, 2007, 08:37:50 AM
I feel I should point out, here, that he -didn't- flee the realm. He handed it to someone he felt was capable of looking after it, no?

Yes, I've worked through this angle of it.  He basically told them to look after the realm for a bit while he went off to sort something out, and then promptly absconded.

QuoteIn which case, it's not -his- fault that the paperwork wasn't filed - assuming that the person he handed it to didn't file it, and it ended up misfiled somewhere...

In that case it's technically Ashley's fault.  Looking at ch.22 again (I was going to quote it) it seems that he left the realm to Ashley until he returned.  Ashley somehow deduced what Jakob intended to do and went to join him.

QuoteI mean, if you die, you're not going to get done for not filling in the paperwork telling the appropriate office that you're no longer running the country, now, are you?

Page did die, but he provided for a successor, i.e. Jakob.  Jakob left it to Ashley, Ashley dropped the ball.  While the assumption has always been that Jakob left the city for the Beings to run, the main reason for having a Creature patron is to protect the place from other Creatures.  My assumption would be that the Being faction in the council would have something to say about deliberately leaving a city unprotected like that, hence the idea for it being a crime.

In all honesty it seemed a bit silly, but it had a nice punch and as Gabi says, he had to get nailed for something  >:3

Quote from: Tapewolf on June 07, 2007, 08:54:52 AM
In all honesty it seemed a bit silly, but it had a nice punch and as Gabi says, he had to get nailed for something  >:3

Indeed. To quote Tom Cruise, "That's more than you had on Capone." :-]

Chapter 30  - (Thanks again to Keaton for the use of her clans)

As I made my way down the street I was distracted by the pleasant odor of a bakery.  It brought back many happy memories of my long-gone youth, so almost without thinking I turned and strode inside, giving a courteous nod to the feline assistant behind the counter.

He looked at me curiously, but I ignored this and scanned the rows of pies and puddings.

"Three blood pasties please," I said.  There was no reply.  Looking up I saw that his fur was standing on end.  It was the bounty hunter.

"Oh my gods... please... please don't kill me..." he whimpered.

I stared back at him.  "Well, well," I said.  "That's quite a career move.  Probably a good one too, if I'm any judge.  Many Creatures have a soft spot for baked goods so you'll be in a quite a good position should there be any unrest.  You'll certainly live longer than you would as an adventurer."

"Please, Mr. Cross... "

"I don't like to be called that.  I'd like to think that my days of crime are behind me.  Call me 'Mr. Pettersohn' if you must.  Besides, if I wanted you dead you wouldn't have escaped in our last meeting I might add, so please stop grovelling or you'll attract attention.  And that would make me angry.  Now, how much for the pasties?"

"'Cubi don't eat... food..."

"Shhh!" I said.  "You'll blow my cover.  As it happens we don't need to eat, but most do continue to eat for pleasure at least on occasion, and it's often pastry."

After some effort I eventually managed to calm him down enough to actually serve me, and left relatively quickly before the baker himself could see me and learn from the hunter that I was really an incubus.  Placing the food in a zero-tau field to keep it warm, I set off into the forest where I was due to meet up with Izak and Snell, an outlaw incubus whom we had arranged to interview.

The forest was safer so I reverted to my base form and made my way east.  I was still about a mile away from my destination when I suddenly realised that the birds had gone silent.  There was just a wisp of a stray thought so I became invisible and threw myself aside.

"F---," snarled a voice as a crossbow bolt thudded into the ground about a yard from where I had been standing.  If I hadn't dodged it would have pierced my heart.  The invisibility spell prevented me from seeing as well, but I have acute hearing and I quickly pinpointed the location of the voice.

In a nearby tree, a young wolf crouched upon a branch and began to reload his weapon, scanning the area for his target.  Becoming partially visible, I could see him from below, and he hadn't noticed me yet.  He didn't notice the faint flash of darkness as I teleported immediately behind him.

"Boo," I called and he fell out of the tree.

For a while I was afraid he'd broken something, so I hopped down from the tree myself, parachuting down with my wings and gave him a once-over.  He looked dead, but closing my eyes I couldn't see his soul so he was evidently still alive.  In any case I was in no mood to take chances so while he lay there stunned, I cut through the strings of his crossbow with my tentacles.

Probing mentally, I discovered that the fall had disrupted his mind-shield and I was able to get into his nervous system while he was still dazed, yanking him back to full consciousness and preventing him from escaping at the same time.

"And so it ends," he sighed, gazing up at the imposing figure looming over him as I stood there in my trenchcoat with my arms folded and a rather annoyed expression on my face.

"Nah," I said.  "I want to talk to you first.  Then we shall see what we shall see.  So.  Exactly why did you try to kill me?"

"Because you're an incubus," he replied instantly.

"And you're a Being.  So what?  That's a pretty feeble excuse for hiding in a tree and taking pot-shots at random passers-by."

The wolf looked at me strangely as I pulled him to his feet, and then with an air of defiant resignation he began to speak.

"It's quite simple," he said.  "I was seven years old when they came.  They burst into our house.  There were two of them, a succubus and an incubus.  I was playing under the table when they arrived, otherwise they would have killed me too.  When I sleep I can still hear the screams of my parents."

Now he was grinning in a way eerily reminiscent of the twisted smile I used to use myself.

"I never found out who they were, but I swore to the Gods that I would avenge them in the only way I can."

"So you decided to declare a one-man war against an entire race?" I scoffed.  "For all you know one of your parents could have been a 'Cubi too."

"No!" he yelped.  "They were Beings!  They were killed by 'Cubi, so I plan to take down as many of you monsters as I can before I finally go to join my parents in death."

"You might not get the chance," I replied doubtfully.  "If you keep playing this silly little game of yours, it's only going to be a matter of time before you run into someone who doesn't balk at soul-eating.  The True Death is probably not the fate your parents had in mind when they raised you."

He stiffened for a moment, but quickly recovered himself.

"So," I said.  "Let's hear the bad news.  How many have you killed, and were any of them grey canids like me?"

"Seven," he replied, "and no."

"Could have been worse.  Especially if you had killed my kin - then I might, in my grief, have forgotten my preference for peace and you'd be spending the next few thousand years in a beer bottle."  I paused, considering him.

"Are you sure your parents would be happy that you've wasted your life slaughtering 'Cubi who were probably innocent?" I asked.

"Innocent?" he laughed.  "Don't give me that.  No-one is innocent."

"I guess not.  You aren't and I know for sure that I'm not, although the gods know I've tried to put that behind me.  I like Beings, and I'd rather not fight you, even knowing you're a murderer.
"Perhaps you haven't realised that there is generally an inverse relationship between your ability to kill a given 'cubi and how much they deserve to die.  The ones who do deserve it will be strong enough to kill you without batting an eyelid.  Unless you get lucky, the only ones you'll actually be able to kill are the ones who choose not to fight back."

I studied him curiously.  "Anyway.  You were ambushing me, so whatever you were up to it means that someone else tipped you off that I'd be coming.  I want to know who and why."

"One of our agents saw you enter the forest.  We don't want demon scum roaming around as if they owned the place, and I happened to be patrolling the area so they radioed me the instructions to take you down."

"...and who's 'we'?"

"We call ourselves the Burning Feather."

"Oh, I see.  Some local anti-wing group.  Now we're getting somewhere."

"Our mission to to keep our town free from predators.  That means Creatures.  Perhaps our methods are a little harsh and uncompromising, but the law alone isn't working and if it keeps the rest of us safe from monsters like you, I'm all for it."

As he spoke, his fingers drifted unconsciously to a locket which he wore upon a chain around his neck.  Suddenly I grabbed for it, tugging it over his head.  There was a brief swooshing sound, and the canid stood there with a shocked expression of sheer horror as though I had suddenly stripped him naked in the middle of a busy street.  His wings were topped red, with green primaries.

"I think I'll keep this," I said, stuffing the locket into my shirt.

"Give it back!" he shrieked, a shrill note of panic in his voice.

"Say 'please...'"

"Give it back, you bastard!"

"No.  You will never get it back if you're going to be like that.  Then you can go back to your precious anti-wing group.  That should be fun to watch!"

"They'll kill me!" he whimpered.

"Of course they will.  I figure it might help you see the error of your ways.  Mind you it would be a bit too late by then because you'll be dead, but perhaps if you tell me what I want to know, I might change my mind and let you keep your little trinket."

He whimpered again.  For a moment I felt sorry for him, but I quickly remembered that I was dealing with a murderer.

"Start with the wings," I prompted, dangling the locket in front of him and then snatching it away.  "Aren't you supposed to be a Being?"

"I am a Being," he said.  "Both my parents were Beings.  Winged Beings, but Beings nonetheless."

"Very well.  So tell me about their murderers.  What were they like?  Any distinguishing marks or features?"

"They had marks on their shoulders... not tattoos, actually cut into them.  Sort of hard and angular..."

"Like this?" I asked gravely, passing my hand over a patch of exposed earth.  It shifted until it formed an angular clan marking.  He nodded, unable to speak.

"Jyraneth clan," I said.  "Believed to be almost extinct.  They were an extremely brutal clan, even for 'Cubi and their leader was insane."
"Criminally insane," I added, remembering that my own clan leader was a bit nutty.
"But why would they kill just two people amongst a whole town of Beings?  It must have been a hit, surely.  But that would only make sense if they were targetting Creatures..."

"Stop saying that!  My parents were Beings!" he cried.

"Apparently Jyraneth clan didn't think so.  If they were mistaken it was a better fate than your parents would otherwise have suffered.  They were well-known for their habits of almost compulsive soul-stealing."

He moaned.  "They were going to but they decided against it and they said that e-eating them would taint themselves and then... then... Aaaahhh!"
He screamed, and fell down clutching his head.  I knelt by the writhing figure, gently turning him over. 

"H-hurtsss..." he croaked.  "Feels like... my head... gonna burst.."
He was eerily close to the truth.  It happened a few moments later.

"I'm dying... aren't I?" he added feebly, as he saw the lines of sorrow and pity written across my face.

"I'm sorry," I said, pulling him unsteadily into a sitting position.  "I thought you knew."
He wobbled slightly, and steadying him, I guided his hand to the back of his head.  A heart-rending scream rang through the woodland as his hand touched the feathers.  It was the cry of someone whose life had just been cruelly destroyed.  The sound of a hunter who realises that he's been preying on his own kind.

Oh Hell, I thought.  SAIA are going to have another mental case on their hands.

"It'll be okay," I murmured, "Come on... don't go crazy on me."

"I killed them," he wept.  "I killed them all.  I didn't know what I was doing.  I didn't know they were my brethren..."

"You wouldn't be the first," I said, sitting next to him.  "You know, one of my students summed it up rather poignantly... what was it?  'Whoever you were died when your 'Cubi heritage asserted itself'.  You may find it helps you come to terms with it.

"Now, what would Jyraneth want with your parents?" I mused.  "From the sound of it they were after revenge."  I glanced at the locket.  Opening it up it contained two photos, one for each of the young incubus' parents.  His father had a pale green tattoo on his cheek.  Oho, I thought.
"Kamei'sin clan.  Definitely revenge."

"What?"

"Your father was an incubus at the very least.  I can't tell about your mother.  It's not like a Kamei'sin member to marry a Being, so my guess is they were both clan members who eloped."

The young wolf looked up at me, blinking.  This was all going over his head, but I couldn't really blame him.  Sometimes the headwings emerged painfully like mine, and it was obviously the case for him as well.  It didn't matter that much - he had plenty of time to come to terms with it.

"Have you decided... what you are going to do with me?" he quavered.

"Yes," I said, snapping the locket shut and handing it back to him.  "But first, tell me your name."

"Simeon," he replied.

"Right then, kid.  I'm going to take you to Fa'Lina's Academy.  SAIA, it's called.  They have people who deal with this sort of thing as part of their job, and right now I don't have time for this.  I'm late for a filming job in the forest."

Helping him stand, I took the young wolf firmly by the hand.
"What do I have to do?" he said.

"Do Nothing," I answered, and we both vanished.

Wow. Nice chapter. I particularly liked the beginning when Jakob met up with that bounty hunter who tried to kill him before, and now said bounty hunter works at a bakery! That's good stuff. And another head case for SAIA...heh, good stuff.
Good job as ever, Tapewolf.

I enjoyed it.

I have just one comment - if the crossbow bolt thudded into the ground, it would have, at most, hit Jakob's feet.

Or am I totally misreading that line? Usually you'd aim somewhat higher, no? In which case it'd whip through where his body was and thud into the ground somewhat offset from where Jakob was standing, depending on how far away the crossbowman was, and the angles, etc...

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on June 24, 2007, 04:07:52 PM
I have just one comment - if the crossbow bolt thudded into the ground, it would have, at most, hit Jakob's feet.

This is true, if pedantic.  Your interpretation is what I meant, although reading it again it does sound rather like he was aiming for the feet.  I'll probably revise that slightly.

Yes... good stuff indeed.

Quote from: Tapewolf on June 24, 2007, 04:32:44 PM

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on June 24, 2007, 04:07:52 PM
I have just one comment - if the crossbow bolt thudded into the ground, it would have, at most, hit Jakob's feet.

This is true, if pedantic.  Your interpretation is what I meant, although reading it again it does sound rather like he was aiming for the feet.  I'll probably revise that slightly.

Extremely pedantic, yes. :-/

Apologies for that - it just read as if you'd been so well focused for the whole thing, and then slipped a bit there. Plus I was, uh, just a bit tired last night.

I particularly -liked- the "boo" :-) It's so well in tune with his world-view and expressed regret for killing anyone...

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on June 25, 2007, 09:11:55 AM
I particularly -liked- the "boo" :-) It's so well in tune with his world-view and expressed regret for killing anyone...

In the earliest versions, he cut the branch off the tree with his tentacles.  Then I got the idea of him creeping up on his would-be killer and scaring him.  As you say, it matches him perfectly.

Chapter 31

When I finally made it to the clearing, I found that Izak and Snell had left me a note.  It consisted of two other words: "Pizza Hovel".

Rats, I thought.  I've just come that way.  They must have come past while I was in SAIA.  Or perhaps they teleported.

'Pizza Hovel' was a marvel of architecture.  The designers had taken every care to create the impression, both inside and out, of a massive, decrepit shed.  In reality the panels of rotting wood were made of enchanted fibreglass, the green algae painted on in breathtaking detail.  The kitchens and toilets were immaculate, betraying the reason that they hadn't simply made the whole thing out of scrap wood in the first place - they'd never have complied with the health and safety regulations.

Entering the establishment, I quickly spotted Izak and a black feline - sans wings, obviously - so I ordered a Pepperoni Perversion and sat down with them.  The Nagra SNN in my pocket started running in case Snell said anything cool... if need be I could come back later and film some blurry stock footage of the pizza place to use with it.

"This isn't my base form, for obvious reasons," he said, with a sly grin.

"Indeed," I acknowledged.  "But have no fear on that count.  This is a documentary, not a trap.  But anyway... what is it that you do?" I asked.  "What makes you an outlaw?"

"Housebreaking," he replied.  "There's no-one better, if I may say so myself."

"Excellent," I said, grinning with delight at the filming possibilities.
"I would like a demonstration, if that's alright, on camera.  I can blur out your face if you wish, or you can rely on your own disguises.  As I said, I'm looking for some interesting footage, not an arrest."

I had recently acquired an Ampex digital video processor and I was still exploring the possibilities it offered.  Show off, thought Izak, letting his guard down for a moment.  I was about to admonish him when my pizza arrived, distracting me.  Alas, the curse of an incubus attention span.

"Have you anyone in mind?" he asked.  "As a target, I mean?"

"No.  You can just pick a house at random.  Or several, come to that... an easy one and a hard one, for example.  I have only two provisos.  Firstly, we are not going to kill anyone..."

"Right," he said instantly.

"...secondly, we are not going to steal anything.  I just want a study of your techniques."  He looked mortified.

"I can make it worth your while," I added hastily.  "I have a big budget.  Fa'Lina is considering some kind of 'lockpicking and security techniques' module at the Academy, and if the film attracts interest, we might want to hire you as a guest lecturer too..."

"Deal," he replied.  "Meet me at the k-"

Snell's reply was cut short by a tremendous crash and the sound of an explosion from outside.  "DEMONS!" shrieked a voice from the streets.  I ran to the window and looked outside.  Magic flew through the air, shattering windows, maiming, killing.  "Oh my gods," I sobbed.  "Why does everything have to go to pot today?"

"Protect the bakery!" shouted Snell, in a panic-stricken voice.  A cloud of black feathers erupted from his back and his head.

"What about protecting the town?" snarled Izak, as he and I broke disguise as well.

"No!" shrieked Snell, "The bakery first!  They make the most amazing maple and pecan pie-"

"Protect here," I snapped.  "Unless there are more 'Cubi living here in secret, there are three of us.  Three incubi alone cannot defend an entire town!  You two stay in the Hovel and try to organise... I'll take care of the baker."


The baker's apprentice was alone once again, until I burst through the door in full incubus form.  "Was something wrong with the pasties?" he gabbled, before noticing my expression - grim and purposeful.  He promptly freaked out again and began waving a large knife at me.

"Put that down, you fool!" I snarled.  "No!  Better still, hang onto it.  The town is under attack!  Where's the baker?"

"Ho, ho, ho!" said a deep voice from the kitchens.  My wings fluffed out as I saw a blur of motion, improbably fast for such a large person.  I threw myself to the floor as a large rolling pin sailed through the doorway, smashing the window behind me.  A fireball quickly followed it, igniting the cakes.

"Demon!" I shrieked.  It seemed I was too late.  They had already topped the baker, but if I was quick I might still be able to save his apprentice.  Again.  Fortunately I had demon blood in me as well, so I sprang up.  My reflexes were nowhere near as good as a pureblood demon, but they gave me an edge over any Being.

I cast a fireball back at my foe, tentacles extending improbably.  I morphed them into a fist and bashed him in the head several times.  Only when he lay in a stupor did I realise that my assailant was actually the baker.

"Why do I get all the mental cases?" I screamed, and pointed at the apprentice.  "You!  Bring that fat loony's medication and help me take him with us.  We have to go!  NOW!  Or we will all die!"

It took all our strength to carry him to the Hovel.  We had to drag him some of the way, trusting that his demon hide wouldn't be too badly bruised.  Above all, we had to move fast, dodging bolts of magic.  I set up a deflection shield, but there was no way we could have survived a direct assault.

At the Hovel, they had barricaded the door.  I made frantic gestures through the window until Izak saw me and rushed to open it.  The demons were closing in fast but we just about managed to drag the demon baker indoors.

"I'll kill you!" yelled one of the the demons as I slammed the door in his face.

"I've got a better idea!" I said brightly, through the letter-flap.  "Why don't I kill you?"

His rage battered my mind shield.  "You should see a counsellor," I retorted.  "Your blood-pressure must be sky-high by now!"

He tried to break the door down.  Remarkably, it held fast.  Well that's new, I thought, and for a moment I found myself reminded of the cubs's tale about the three little wolves.

"Page Simeon," someone said, breaking me out of my reverie.  "We're going need all the help we can get."

The Burning Feather? I pondered with amazement.

"Simeon isn't responding," replied a doberman.  He was carrying a small radio.  The doberman cut a burly figure in light armour, and he radiated command.  It was pretty obvious he was the leader of their cell.
The doberman's tail was docked and his ears were cropped.  I had never really understood the ear-cropping thing.  Traditionally it had to be done to puppies to make the ears stand up, but this was illegal nowadays unless there was a clear medical need.  There were no laws against cosmetic surgery for a consenting adult though, and some of the more tough-guy sorts would have their ears altered magically.  In some circles it was a bit like getting a tattoo.

"What do you mean, he's not responding?" the other guy snapped.

"I mean he ain't f---in' responding," the doberman snarled.  "Little sent him to take down some big grey wolf incubus prowling the forest..."

"Oh, him?"  I said loudly, "he won't be returning," The doberman spun round to see a tall grey wolf incubus in a black trenchcoat smiling that smile.  He took a step back and drew his sword.

"You!" he snarled.  "So you got him?  May the gods rest his... soul..." he faltered, suddenly realising that Simeon might not have a soul anymore.
"He was a good marksman and you'll pay for his death!"

"He was a good marksman all right.  He was also an incubus," I said.  The doberman froze and I knocked his sword to the floor.

"You didn't know?  Nor did he until about two hours ago.  Somehow he kind of lost heart when he realised that you'd been sending him to kill his brethren, so I sent him away for a little re-education.  He'll be back in a few centuries.  It's probably for the best since he was very distraught and might well have turned on you."

"You lie!" snapped the dog, but he made no move for the sword.

"It's true," I said.  "I thought you might like to know that he's safe, even if he won't be returning to your little anti-wing group.  Now.  I don't like you, and you evidently despise me.  But needs must so we will have to work together on this."

"What do you propose?" he asked, guardedly.

"First, how many of you are here?" I asked.

"Most of us," he replied evasively.  "This is our headquarters."

"Oho," I said.  "So the pizza place is just a front?  Well, that explains why they can't get through the door, at any rate."

"Well done," he said.  "It's magically armoured.  As are the walls."

"I wouldn't place too much faith in spells," I pointed out.  "They can probably be neutralised.  Let's just hope they don't know too much of that kind of magic."

"You think they could?" his ears drooped.

"I'm sure I could if I wanted to, but I'm not about to try right now.  We're in this mess together, remember.  Now, one thing we need to know is how many of us are Creatures."

"We're all Beings," he snapped.  "This is a Being town."

"Right," I said sarcastically.  "Like Simeon, you mean?"

"He was an exception."

"And the baker was too?"

"What the hell are you talking ab..." he snarled, his voice trailing away and his expression changing to one of fear when I removed the baker's ring.  As I did so, his wings popped out.  They were feathered... uncommon for a demon, but not unheard of either.  Most likely there was some angel blood in him as well.

"I think we could do with a few more exceptions," I said.  "Now.  Tell me again why you chose a pizza restaurant for your HQ?  And how did you manage to build a hideout into a franchise?"

"Their founder is bankrolling us," he said with a sneer.  "Most Creatures don't eat, so it's in his interest to keep Being towns Creature-free.  Gives him more potential customers.  A restaurant is the perfect place, since only Beings are ever going to visit it..." he trailed off as I began laughing.

"Well, it's obvious you're a Being," I chuckled.  "The most magical Creatures don't need to eat, but most of them do, for pleasure if not as part of their disguise.  The one place Creatures are most likely to visit if they're randomly passing through is the local place of food."

His eyes had a haunted look.

"Don't worry," I said.  "You've been perfectly fine until today, haven't you?  And once we've sorted these bastards out, things will return to normal again.  Now.  We're going to need to round up all the Creatures we can find.  We've got your crazy baker, myself, Izak and..." I glanced around.  Snell was gone.

"IZAK!"  I yelled.  "Where the heck is Snell?"

There was a frantic pounding on the door.  I ran to the window and looked out.  Snell, the outlaw incubus, had rounded up all the Beings he could find and was trying to herd them into the Hovel.  Izak rushed to open the door for him, but the demons were in hot pursuit.  There was a rush of bodies as the door opened, and Snell was holding it open in an uncharacteristically random act of kindness.  As the last of the refugees entered, he dove for the door himself only to be caught by a fireball.

He crumpled and lay still.

well, -that- was entertaining. ;-]


Can't wait for the next chapter. And I love how the guy bankrolling the chain is likely a Creature, too...

Oh, boy. Now things are going crazy. I see a big brawl in the next chapter!

One question: Who the hell is Snell?

Quote from: techmaster-glitch on July 14, 2007, 05:26:26 PM
One question: Who the hell is Snell?

Check this chapter and the previous one.  That's all I'm going to say - any more would compromise the next chapter  >:3

... I have a number of questions about Snell, and, in fact, Simeon, and his whole situation.

I'll sit on them for the moment, though. ;-]

Interesting turn of events. And I find Pizza Hovel to be quite an original place, even if it didn't work out as it was meant to and its name bares a striking similarity to a well-known franchise.

Poor Snell. Just when he was trying to do something right...

PS: read my fic. :P

Late, but finally ready.  Those who follow the Brotherhood of the Machine RP may notice a resemblance (http://clockworkmansion.com/forum/index.php?topic=2926.msg138359#msg138359).  This one was written first, though.

---

Chapter 32

We dragged Snell inside and slammed the door.  There was a horrible smell of singed fur and clothes, and he was bleeding from the head.  Mind you, he was very lucky to be bleeding at all... a direct hit would have killed him outright.  As I watched, his fur faded from black, the feathers changing to white.  His features changed only slightly.

Clumsy, I thought.  I'd have changed species if I still lived a life of crime.

Snell opened an eye and caught sight of his hand.  "Oh... no..." he moaned, realising that he'd reverted to his base form.  I stood there in sheer amazement, staring at him.  A snow-leopard with pure white wings and golden hair.

"A...Azrael?" I gasped, the words coming out before I could stop myself.  He gave a cry of terror and his fur puffed up.
"Lord Cross...!" he hissed.  "K-keep away from me, you maniac!"

"Damn it," I said angrily.  "Pull yourself together!  I've just been through all that with the Council."

I glanced around.  People were staring at us, at me.  I didn't need to be an incubus to realise what they were thinking.  They were all wondering if the bigger threat was the demon mob outside, or the soul-devouring monster trapped inside with them.

"Look," I said, exasperated.  "I'm not into that weird stuff anymore.  I came here to tape a documentary, not torment Beings for kicks.  I mean, live and let live, right?"

"What about your 'laws'?" one of them spat.

"My laws?  The ones about making Beings and Creatures equal within the realm of Ha'Khun?"

"No, the ones saying that it is your duty as an incubus to destroy us!"
He would have used a more mocking tone if he'd dared, but we held the advantage.  For while they outnumbered us, each one of us could take several of them - killing both body and soul - and without our help they had little chance of escaping the demons outside.

I looked at him blankly for a few moments.  "First I've heard of it," I admitted.
"Thinking about it, that's probably some clan-specific thing.  Seriously... there are only about thirty thousand of us in the entire world and we're scattered throughout it.  Who could enforce laws on such a sparsely-distributed population?"

Our argument was interrupted by a sound from the roof.  "Not good," I said.  "It sounds as if the Big Bad Pig has decided to climb down the chimney.  Now, you guys seem to have done an impressive job of armouring the walls and the door, but did you pay as much attention to the roof?  Is there anything up there they can break?"

"The window!" one of them said.  "We had to replace one of them... did we get the enchantment renewed on it?"

"Where is it?"  I asked, dying to know why an unbreakable window needed to be replaced, but realising that there were more appropriate times.

"In the kitchens," he replied.  Suddenly there was a crash as the window was kicked in.  We dashed into the kitchen.

High above us, the demon was struggling.  The window was just a shade too narrow for him to get through easily, so all we could really see was a pair of legs waving up by the ceiling.
Looking below, I immediately saw a way of saving ourselves, eerily similar to the grotesque fate of the Big Bad Pig.  But I could also see the flaw in the plan, and besides, it felt too much like murder.

Izak and the doberman leader of the Burning Feather had fewer inhibitions.  "Don't!"  I said urgently.
"Whose side are you on?" sneered the dog as they opened all the lids.

"Get back!" I yelled up at the demon.  "This is your only warning!  Get back or you'll die!"

He laughed loudly and unpleasantly as he finally made it through.  The three of us turned tail and I slammed the door shut, wondering what it was made from.

Moments later there came the most blood-curdling shriek as the demon fell into the deep-fat fryers, cut short when his head was submerged.  I pray that I never hear the like again.

"Do you realise what you've done, Elrük?"  I asked the Doberman quietly, as he whooped and slapped my brother hard on the back.  He spun round.  "How did you know my-"
"Incubus," I reminded him almost on reflex, the whole of my attention taken up by something behind him.

He looked at me with a puzzled expression, until he followed my gaze to the small window set in the kitchen door.  An expression of horror dawned upon his face as he noticed a small series of fires were starting to take hold.  What they had done had not only killed the demon, but also splashed a large amount of superheated cooking fat throughout the kitchen.  Their actions could very well have killed us too.

"I hate to say 'I told you so,'" I began.  Then the sprinkler system kicked in, drenching us as well as the kitchen.  I had been afraid of that.  Indeed, we might have made it if this hadn't happened.
With the lid off, the water sprayed straight down, directly into the banks of deep-fat fryers.  Hot fat erupted everywhere and the entire kitchen was ablaze in no time at all.

"You enchanted the outer walls, but what about the internal partitions?"  I asked.
Elrük began to whimper softly.  "I take it that's a 'no'," I said, trying to mask my growing concern with flippancy.

Snell rose groggily as the water soaked through his fur.  I almost told him to lie down again, but what was the point?  At least he'd die on his feet.  Or perhaps he had a Warp-Aci.  I certainly couldn't teleport us out myself because the place was warded against it.

"A fire?" he said, his voice becoming harder and less slurred.  "Let me at it."

"Immolation is never the answer," I began, thinking he was still concussed, and I guess, trying to humour him.

"Ice magic," he said.  "I'd make a piss-poor snow-leopard if I didn't know some tricks."

He got up unsteadily.  "I need to reach the sprinklers."  I gave him a leg up, and moments later the water stopped - he'd frozen a blockage in the feeder pipe.  Fortunately the flow came from the kitchen.  If it had flowed the other way, it would have made matters worse.

The door into the kitchens was now hot to the touch.  Snell touched it anyway, and frost began to appear on the window.  In the meantime, I located the main circuit breakers for the  kitchen and threw them.  It might have been a bit late by then, but on the other hand, it  might just save our hides.  When I came back, he had cast some kind of protection field upon himself and was striding boldly through the flames like some unearthly messianic figure.

The power now cut, he touched the fryers with a paternal hand almost as though he was making some kind of benediction, wing-tentacles serving to bless the other pair.  Then he stuck his hands inside.  His eyes glowed faintly for a moment and the fat froze instantly into a hideous, congealed mess.  The demon was still in it.

"The hotter they are, the faster they cool," he coughed, staggering back through the door before stumbling and collapsing back to the ground.

"Are you okay?"  I asked.

"Smoke," he spluttered.  "Should be fine..." 
Izak laid a hand upon him which glowed briefly.  Apparently my brother knew more healing spells than I did.  But then he'd stayed on at SAIA.

Meanwhile, blocking the water lines in the dining area had had an unforeseen benefit - it had increased the pressure on the sprinklers in the kitchen.  With the fryers themselves now inert, the kitchen was returning to a state where we could enter it once more.  But the damage had been done.

The structure, weakened by the flames was now held together entirely by the enchantments, which were never designed to protect charred wood and molten fibreglass, and the demons now had a more-or-less clear run at it unless I could somehow block them.  This must have been how the window was broken... they were only enchanted against external damage.  At that moment there was a crash from the kitchen and the door suddenly burst open.  A demon strode through, killing the nearest Being with a sweep of her clawed hands.

Snell - still not fully recovered - leapt up and grabbed at the demon, placing one hand upon each side of her head and emitting a hoarse yell.
The demon crumpled backwards with a look of surprise and annoyance on her face.  She had died instantly as her blood froze, rupturing every cell in her brain.  I imagine it must have been a painless way to die, but nonetheless I have never been able to look an ice-mage in the eye ever since.

There was another crash from the kitchen, another demon entering from the roof.
That was one advantage - a quick glance told me they had given up on the front door.  But before I could do anything useful with this knowledge, we had another visitor from the kitchen.  To Elrük's amazement and my surprise, he was challenged by an unlikely looking lad, an unhappy-looking dog fox.  With an air of resignation he left his wife and strode over to the demon, who laughed out loud.

The laughter died in his throat as he was struck by a hail of magical fire.  It didn't do much damage, but his expression changed to one of pure rage and he prepared to smite the challenger with a burst of energy.  But nothing happened.  The demon stared and was promptly cut down by a hail of fire and ice from the fox and his mate as they flickered slightly, and for a moment I thought I had seen a flash of skin, like they had suddenly gone bald.  But I had expected something like that.  No normal Being would have dared.

"Help me with the door," I told them, and pulling the corpse away, began to invoke a ward with their aid.  "Don't worry," I said quietly, "I won't tell the others what you are."
"Thanks," he replied, the relief evident in his voice.

I glanced back at Snell, who was sleeping.  This was not normal for 'Cubi, but on the other hand, he had just taken a real beating and even his metabiologically enhanced body needed some rest to recover from an ordeal like that.

Hoping that I had not just made a critical mistake, I opened the front door and just beyond the warding, began to construct a portal as swiftly as I could.

When it was done, I dived through, finding myself in the forest as I had intended.  I turned back and peered desperately through it.
"RUN!" I yelled, "Through here!"  I couldn't hold the portal open for long, and in any case I had to shut it before the demons could get through or it would all be in vain.

Little came through.  Izak with Elrük helping him carry Snell, the two Weres, the baker's apprentice dragging his master, and maybe twenty others.  Then the demons finally did what I had feared - they stopped trying to break down the door and smashed their way through the wall just next to it.

There were people left in the restaurant, but I just couldn't keep the gate open.  With a look of agony and despair, I let go and it collapsed to nothing.
In the Hovel, the front door became a front door again.  I don't know what happened after that.  Perhaps there were other Creatures among them, perhaps they did manage to evade the demons.  I would like to think so, but deep down, I can't bring myself to believe it. 

What I do know is that however many people once lived in that town, less than thirty survived.

Izak and Snell tried to console me.  Even Elrük, who pointed out that I had tried my best to save a town that had hated me, something he would never have expected an incubus to do on account of mere Beings, but I could not shake the feeling that I had failed for about three weeks.


Snell had agreed to help make the documentary, and Izak and I were to meet him again in the forest clearing just as we had tried to do before.

Reluctant as I was to return there, I realised that only by doing so could I get out of my rut and with luck, get over my feelings of guilt.  Survivor's guilt, I suppose.

Arriving with a complete set of equipment, we chose another town - one which Snell had burgled before in the past - and set off to do the job.

We had just reached the treeline when a Stun spell took us from behind and everything went black.

Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

Jakob just never seems to get a break, does he? :-/

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on August 14, 2007, 10:55:50 AM
Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

Notes on this story:  I once witnessed South Mimms service station being completely destroyed by a fat fire which started in 'Julie's Pantry'.  The sprinkler system - assuming there was one - did not go off while the fire was still small enough to contain.

QuoteJakob just never seems to get a break, does he? :-/

I actually wrote this one with the premise that Jakob has actually been doing too well.  Most of stories end with him victorious to some degree, so I figured it was time for something less clear-cut.

Quote from: Tapewolf on August 15, 2007, 09:46:09 AM

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on August 14, 2007, 10:55:50 AM
Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

Notes on this story:  I once witnessed South Mimms service station being completely destroyed by a fat fire which started in 'Julie's Pantry'.  The sprinkler system - assuming there was one - did not go off while the fire was still small enough to contain.

Oh, I wasn't referring to the fire - fat fires are -evil-. I was referring to the stun to the back of the head...

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on August 15, 2007, 11:20:23 AM
Oh, I wasn't referring to the fire - fat fires are -evil-. I was referring to the stun to the back of the head...

I guessed that.  I was going to mention the service station in any case...

I liked the idea of wolves hiding from the big bad pig.

And the descriptions too, they were very detailed and original.

And I also liked the fox. :) I wonder if we're somehow related.

Chapter 33

I came to in what appeared to be some sort of dungeon.  To my mild surprise, I was dangling from the ceiling by my wrists, as were Izak and Snell.

"He's awake," said Izak.  I suddenly noticed that neither of them had wings.  Evidently the manacles were doing more than just suspending us.  Experimentally I tried to shapeshift my hand, but it wasn't happening.

"Anyone remember how we got here?" I asked.

"Not really.  Someone stunned us in the forest, I guess."

"Tell me, Snell," I said, "Do your talents extend to breaking out of enchanted manacles while suspended from the ceiling?"

"No," he admitted.

"Would you care to elaborate on what you can do?  I mean it's not like we're exactly pressed for time," I said.

"As I was saying, I realised about halfway through my course at the Academy that I could make my fortune by turning to a life of crime.  The Beings never stood a chance."

"So you took to burglary?"

"Yep.  I can pick the locks, or failing that stretch myself into something that will fit through the letterbox.  I can make myself partly invisible, or make people forget they've seen me."

"Plateau Eyes?"  I said wonderingly.

"Whatever.  I can break in at 3AM while the Beings are asleep, and ensure they don't wake up while I'm robbing them.  Or I can make them sleep if they aren't," he added.

"Sounds cushy," I said.  "What, would you say, was your worst mistake?"

"Hmmm... Oh!  That would have to be the time I accidentally robbed a succubus," he said, chuckling at the memory.  "She was living wingless with someone, pretending to be a Being.  In the commotion her husband woke up and saw her with her headwings... ooh, that was messy.  We both had to erase parts of his short-term memory.  Last I heard he wrote it off as a nightmare, but... Hey!  I may have agreed to let you interview me, but I can think of a more comfortable setting."

"Just a moment," said Izak.  "I don't think they've locked this manacle properly."
He swung around, throwing his entire weight onto one arm, and with the faint sound of metal tearing, the lock broke open leaving him suddenly suspended by the other arm.  He gave a brief cry of pain, but losing the manacle had restored access to some of his powers, and after a few minutes of concentrating upon his other wrist, the lock snapped open of its own accord and he fell three feet to the ground.

"I'm bored now," said Snell.  "How about we get out of here?"

Our suspension was not the only obstacle, however.  There was also a heavy steel door, which was firmly locked.  Izak and I both tried a variety of spells but they had shielded the lock too well for us to penetrate.
I began to rifle through my bag, looking for the set of jewellers screwdrivers which I always brought with me for calibration purposes.
"They seem to have taken my Nagra," I said angrily.

"I'll do it," said Snell, and placed a tentacle against the lock.  He closed his eyes and the tentacle seemed to vibrate as he morphed it into the guts of the lock.  Exactly two seconds later the latch clicked open.  I stared at him enviously.

About ten minutes later we found ourselves walking through a darkened room in what appeared to be an office.  Thoroughly lost, I tried to work out which way North was while Izak and Snell began to argue about which floor we were on.

"I've been expecting you," said a voice from behind us, making my blood freeze.  The lights came on to reveal a giant rat sitting behind a desk.  He spoke in a soft, cultured voice and was stroking a snow-white feral cat.  Izak stared at me in horror as I made a series of strange noises, trying desperately not to burst out laughing.

"You will be laughing on the other side of your face soon enough, Mr. Cross," he said, a sour expression crossing his features.

"Dammit," I snapped.  "How did you know that?  It's supposed to be secret."

"I know many things," he said enigmatically, and began to smile again.  Izak was looking at me as though we'd never met before.  His expression was not calm.

"YOU...?" he said, in disbelief, "You're Johan Cross?"

I covered my eyes with my hands for a moment but quickly snapped out of it because he was rapidly losing control.

"Silence!" snapped the rat.  "You have caused me a great deal of trouble with that little incident in Sandiria," he continued in his soft, purring voice.
"You have killed a number of my minions, and I shall have to punish you severely..."  He broke off when he realised that no-one was listening to him.

"I TRUSTED YOU!" Izak was screaming.  "All the films we've made, all the time we've spent together... it was all a lie, wasn't it!  I was actually being manipulated by one of the most notorious soul-murdering psychopaths this side of Zinvth!  MY OWN BROTHER!  WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!"

"I-"  Before I could reply, Izak had hurled himself at me.
"You killed cities!" he yelled, "You murdered thousands of innocent Beings!  You gave them the True Death and you even had a Being for a mother!  How did it feel eating all those souls?!  Did you get a kick out of it, eh?  Perhaps you got a kick when you imagined you were eating her soul!" he shrieked.

"You leave our mother out of this, you little shit!" I snarled murderously and punched him in the stomach.  "You didn't even stay to help her!  You ran off and almost got yourself killed taking some stupid course that you didn't even finish!"  Snell rushed to separate us, but Izak dealt him a swift left hook under the chin.
A brawl erupted, little tufts of fur going everywhere.  The rat stood up and stared at us with a look of bewilderment, uncertain what to do.  His grand evil speech was not supposed to have gone down quite like this.

What he didn't know was that I had lowered my mind-shield so that Izak and Snell could hear my thoughts.
They did likewise and we had a silent, yet urgent argument that the rat was not privy to.  While Izak didn't believe I was innocent, we were able to get him to agree - if reluctantly - that we would have to settle this later.  There was a momentary lull in the fighting, but our captor didn't seem to realise that we had switched from actual fighting to horseplay.

Reaching a decision, the rat pressed a button and a handful of guards rushed in.  Their uniform was strangely familiar, but they were still only Beings.  Snell broke into their minds and they fell asleep even as they ran.  Another followed, but as soon as he looked into the leopard's face, his eyes went funny and he wandered back out again in a state of confusion.  I'll have to learn that, I thought.

In the meantime we had edged closer and closer to the rat's desk.  He was about to hit the panic button when a tentacle streaked out towards him.  Moments later something small and white was struggling ferociously in my grasp as I began to throttle it.  Snell did not look very pleased.

"Let us go or kitty gets it," I said, smiling my Johan Cross smile.  The cat made a peculiar choking sound as I jerked my tentacles tighter around his throat for a moment and the rat stepped backwards in alarm.
Something very strange had happened to him... a pair of feathered wings.  It seemed that his cat had somehow been made into a patch.  No wonder he was always holding them.

"I'm sure we can come to some kind of... agreement..." he said nervously.  Then someone shot us from behind.


When I came to, we were lying side by side on the floor, enchanted bracers constricting our powers once again.  I glanced muzzily up at the rat who was tucking into some sandwiches.  Apparently it was his lunch break.

"Are you really Johan Cross?"  Izak whispered feebly.

"Not anymore," I replied.  "I'm sorry... I should have said... but I was too ashamed to admit it..."

"Should have realised... your absence from SAIA matched his reign...  There are 'Cubi at the Academy who worship you..." he croaked and I grimaced.  "...Aspiring to eat as many souls as you did... Why did you do it...?"

"I didn't," I whispered back.  "I went crazy for a bit when Page died, killed a couple of people who deserved it and banished loads of people who probably didn't, but I never ate anyone.  It's all rumours, and they've grown since I left.   When we get back to SAIA I'll have to try and squash these cults..."

Izak smiled weakly.  Maybe it was because he was less combat-trained than Snell or myself, but the Stun spell had affected him a lot worse than us.  I glanced back at the rat, and saw that he was finishing up.  With some effort, I stood up and eased my brother onto his unsteady feet.

"Now they shall pay, Tiddles!" our captor said, nursing the slightly-strangled cat on his desk.  "Oh yes, they shall pay!"
He looked up to face us again.  "Oh good, you're awake.  As I was saying, you have killed a number of my minions and I shall have to punish you severely..."

"How do you know it was us?" I asked.

"The recording you had," he smiled.  "My technicians have played it back and given me a precise report of all your evil deeds.  Deeds that were indeed worthy of Johan Cross."

"Get bent, demon," said Izak.  The rat looked extremely angry.

"Oh, but it is you who shall get bent, Mr. Pettersohn!" he replied with an expression of evil glee.  "Many of my people died when the Hovel was destroyed.  I lost valuable allies and agents.  It is only by good fortune that I managed to intercept you before you could reach Mundas and destroy yet more lives and property... my property..."

"What makes you think we were headed there?"  Izak asked.  He looked puzzled.

"Do you think I look like a fool?" snapped the rat, his fur puffing up in anger.  "Mundas is the nearest branch in the area after Sandiria."

"Branch?" said Snell blankly.

"Pizza Hovel," I said, suddenly realising who the rat was.  "Olivias Sadmann, I presume?"

"Have you only just realised?" he sneered.

"Never heard of you," Snell retorted.  "Then again I don't know many demons, let alone scum like you and the other ones who attacked us."  The rat looked like he was about to hit Snell.  Indeed, he probably would have done if it had not meant releasing his firm grip upon Tiddles.

"He's not one of them," I said.  "Sadmann is the president of the Pizza Hovel corporation and it seems he has a very odd way of thanking the people who risked their lives trying to save Sandiria.  But then I couldn't expect much more from someone with such close ties to the Burning Feather.  Funny that he happens to be a demon himself, isn't it?"

"Save...?" said the rat.  He glanced at a display on his desk, and then rubbed some dirt off the screen.  His attitude changed abruptly.  "Oh dear.  I'm very, very sorry," he said.  "I seem to have misread the report."

This is getting intresting

Oh, classic. I -love- the finishing line.

I think the horseplay was a bit telegraphed, but that may be because it's been used so many times before...

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on September 05, 2007, 04:49:51 PM
I think the horseplay was a bit telegraphed, but that may be because it's been used so many times before...

Yeah, I think it probably has been done before although I can't think of an example.  I'm tempted to rework that bit since it did seem a little contrived.

Personally my favourite bit is where Jakob holds the cat hostage (remembering that Snell is feline too).  I think that's new, although there are a number of spy spoofs which I've never seen...

Good chapter JP really enjoyed it :3

This brings misunderstandings to a whole new level.

Chapter 34

Some time after my disastrous attempts to film Snell for my documentary on burglary, I had been commissioned to make a film about the adventuring trade.  This was not without risk, since a good many adventurers would quite happily slay me if they ever found out what I was.
Nonetheless, it had seemed like an interesting challenge, and I now sat in the Woebegone Inn, dressed in a jerkin, bracers and various other adventuring paraphernalia while eying the other patrons with a slightly arrogant expression.

A large, black panther entered the bar.  A jaguar.  He stood out quite obviously, not least because of the wings growing out of his back.  There was a momentary lull in the conversation.  Someone evidently took objection to the newcomer, drawing a blade and striding towards him in a threatening manner, but it seemed that the stranger was used to that kind of thing and his would-be assailant was curled up on the floor before he had quite realised how it happened.

I looked at him curiously, the arrogance vanishing into a thin smile... this could be what I had been hoping for.  While the documentary required a certain amount of material about Beings, the real meat of the project was to be a study of Creatures who had decided to earn a living by the sword.

There were rumours that had reached my ears of a young lad known as Ti'Fiona, who while still in his teens, had nonetheless vanquished a number of quite formidable enemies.  There was some confusion as to what he was... some guessed him to be an Angel or a feathered Demon, while still others claimed that he was just a Being, albeit a winged one. 
Thinking of this, I shuddered... after all, I had thought the same thing myself until my headwings had appeared.  If he really was an immature incubus who was totally oblivious to his heritage, he was going to have a very nasty surprise at some point in the next few years.  It would be interesting to interview him, I mused, but he was always on the move.  He retired before I got the chance.

With a start, I turned my attention back to the present.  The panther booked a room, which pleased me greatly.  If he was going to be here for the next few days I should have a good opportunity to collar him and find out if he would consent to an interview.

He was not the only newcomer, however.  While I had been pondering over Ti'Fiona, a lithe young vixen had arrived and new stood at the bar, fetching appreciative glances and stares from the other patrons.  I was staring at her myself, but for other reasons.  There was something slightly odd about her.

I was not especially pleased when my musings were interrupted by a blow on my shoulder.
Glancing around angrily, I saw a feline novice, accompanied by an elder fox.
"Watch it," I snarled, but let it go.  Meanwhile, a husky had risen from his table and was whispering something in the vixen's ear.  She gave a sly grin and led him upstairs, amid wolf-whistles from his team-mates.

Not long afterwards, we heard the unmistakable sounds of love coming from the rooms upstairs.  Several of the other patrons snickered to themselves.  Some gave drunken cheers of approval.

"The sin of lust," muttered someone, in a voice that was far from approving.  It was the priest.  Glancing around, I realised that the novice was sitting next to me.

"Excuse me, brother," I began casually, "Do you know where I might find a warrior named Ti'Fiona?"

"Mean you Edward?" he asked, looking at me in an uneasy manner.  His eyes darted to the pair of black leather gloves I was wearing for a moment and then settled back on my face.  He didn't quite have the courage to make eye contact.
"I have heard he gave up his old life to run an inn some leagues west of here," he said.

"At so young an age?"  I asked, my brows arching in puzzlement.

"Ah, I see your confusion.  Nay, you would be thinking of his son, Daniel.  Some say that Edward himself has been kidnapped.  Myself, I know not... but if it is this Daniel that you seek, I fear you must ask another... "
I sat bolt upright as a scream of terror ripped through the air.  But looking around, no-one else seemed to have heard it.  Oh hell.

"Is something wrong, my son?" asked the novice, glancing at me in a worried manner.

"Very," I replied, and ran upstairs.

I didn't bother to open the door because I knew it would be locked.  I just ran through.  Even so, I was too late.  The succubus had assumed a feline form and she turned sharply as I barged in, ripping the lock off the door.  The soulless corpse of her prey still lay on the bed beside her.

"Put him back," I said.

"It's too late, he's dead," she sneered. 

"No it isn't.  Now put his soul back in his body, unless you want the guys downstairs to see your base form."

She stiffened as my crossbow drew level with her face.  "All right," she said.  "It's done."

"Do you think I can't tell?" I growled, squeezing the trigger and flashing my headwings into existence for a moment.  "Do it again.  Properly this time."  The feline panicked and obeyed.

"Well, there you go..." she said, not quite daring to sneer while she still ran the risk of getting a bolt through the head.  "So.  You've got a soul in a corpse.  What are you going to do with it?"

I held the crossbow with one hand, and gestured with the other.  It had been just under two minutes by my reckoning.  If I could restart his heart and lungs quickly he might just pull through.  The dead husky gave a great gasp and lay there twitching slightly as his soul gradually reintegrated with his body.  I remembered how Professor Destania used to get very, very angry when I did this in soul-stealing class.  Eventually she threw me off the module.

"You need more practice at being canid," I said.  "Walking with a feline gait is not a good way to maintain your disguise.  Other canines will notice."

"Why are you telling me this?" she replied.  "Why did you prevent me from eating him?"

"Perhaps because that would not be a very nice thing to do..." I said simply, and then smiled in a horrible way.  "...or perhaps because I figured your soul would make a more satisfying meal."  My hand glowed again, and I began to pull at the core of her very being.

"P...please..." she whimpered, and with a savage jerk I let go.  Now I was the one with the sneer.

"The prospect of oblivion frightens you, does it?  Afraid of the True Death?  Scared of being erased as though you had never been at all?  That's good..."
The succubus whimpered again, and my expression suddenly changed to one of frustration.  "...so why the hell is it okay to do that to Beings?" I burst out.  "What makes your life worth so much more than theirs that it's fine and dandy to obliterate them completely?  They are just as sentient as we are.  Some of them are smarter.  Does lifespan and magic really make our lives that much more 'valuable' than theirs?  Think on that while you jump out the window."

"What?"

"Get going.  I suppose you could stay here and be vanquished when the others arrive, but that wouldn't be my choice."

She didn't need telling thrice.  I turned to examine the husky, checking his pulse and neural activity, when I felt another mind nearby. Glancing around, I noticed the panther standing in the doorway.

"A succubus," I told him calmly, gesturing at the husky, whose breathing was still a bit ragged but slowly growing stronger.  "She managed to escape, but I did prevent her from eating his soul.  He should make a full recovery."

"You mean you let her escape," he said.  I gave him a quizzical stare, but he just kept gazing right back at me, his face inscrutable.  "Tell me... what made you come up here?" he asked.  "Just in time to save him?"

"I..."

"Save it," the panther said, with a slightly unpleasant grin, walking across the room and glancing out of the window.  "I heard every word.  You're an incubus, my lad."

Oh shit.

"Yes," I admitted.  "I am, and I did let her escape.  I believe that she has experienced a change in perspective.  If not... if I find that she is still prone to soul-murder, then... well, I may have to kill her."

The panther stared at me impassively.

"But what about you?"  I mused.  "Demons and Angels can eat souls too."

"Touché," he said.  "I shall reserve judgement upon you.  But say, why are you here?  After that little performance of yours I hardly think it was to hunt."

"Indeed no," I said.  "Actually, it was to seek the services of an adventurer such as yourself.  You see, I came here to..."

The panther went for his sword.  I raised the crossbow for a second until I realised that he wasn't aiming for me.  I spun around.  The priest and his novice were there, staring horrified at me as I crouched next to what appeared to be the corpse of my victim, covering them with the crossbow.

"Careful, my son," said the priest, "He may be evil.  I do not like the look of him."

"'Course I'm evil," I said.  "I'm wearing black gloves, aren't I?"  The priest winced as I waved my fingers at him with my unencumbered hand.  Actually what I was wearing were motorcycle gloves, but they didn't need to know that.

"Before you ask, this has nothing to with us," I said, lowering the crossbow slightly.  "The wench he took was a succubus..." at this, the priest made a strange symbol.  "Calm down, calm down.  She didn't get him."

"Truly, lust can imperil the soul..." the fox remarked.

"Whatever.  Now, of all the people who might have decided to investigate, why have you two come here?"

The priest and his novice conferred for a moment.  "Tell him," whispered the priest.  The novice looked at the floor, evidently still nervous at my presence.
"We have come to seek the services of an adventurer such as yourself.  You see, we came here to..."

"Are you taking the piss?" I exclaimed, staring back at him.  Oh.
Sneaking a quick glance at the panther for a moment, I turned back to the novice with an apologetic look.  "I'm very sorry," I said, "I thought you were talking to me..."

"He is," said the elder priest.  "But actually I think the both of you would be most suitable."

Most intresting my dear friend.. Hope to see more  :3

Chronicles is still going?  I thought you'd ended it and moved to Future History.

Anyway, having read chapters 1-13 at this point, I shall be brutally honest.(in as friendly a tone as possible, of course.)

Obvious Mary Sue-ism, contrived circumstances, and deviates heavily from established DMFA backstory(which admittedly may not have been established at the time it was written), and the characters don't respond quite believably in the human world.(at least, IMO.)

Despite all this, however, it still keeps me coming back for more.  Not because I think "This could get better.  maybe the next one will be better."  The story really is quite interesting.

I wouldn't reccomend editing for the complaints I outlined above, as it would fundamentally change the story beyond all recognition.  Good job! :cheers

Quote from: Raist on September 27, 2007, 10:54:16 PM
Chronicles is still going?  I thought you'd ended it and moved to Future History.

I'm thinking of it, but I keep getting new ideas to explore.  It's definitely off the boil, though.  (That said, I am far from happy with the current FH chapter, hence it is late)

QuoteObvious Mary Sue-ism, contrived circumstances, and deviates heavily from established DMFA backstory(which admittedly may not have been established at the time it was written), and the characters don't respond quite believably in the human world.(at least, IMO.)

In my defence, the Jakob Pettersohn series was the first story I'd written since school, so we're talking a gap of 13 years.  In other words, I began writing before I knew what 'Mary Sue' actually meant.  There are a number of things which I wouldn't have done now, and despite my best efforts, Jakob has become more powerful than he should have done.

I'd be interested to know about the backstory deviations, though... I can't think of any offhand.  I can usually find a workaround  >:3

mwahahaha.

"are you taking the... oh" ;-]


I can't wait to find out what all of them are actually there for. So far we have the panther, who hasn't said anything other than him being an Adventurer. We've got Jacob, who hasn't told the panther what he's there for, although he started. And we've got the priest and the novice... who also haven't managed to finish their sentences.

Just -asking- for trouble, that lot is. But then, Jakob is pretty much always in trouble....

Nice chapter! I guess the fox was right about lust being able to imperil the soul. And I liked the black gloves remark.

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on September 28, 2007, 07:33:52 AM
So far we have the panther, who hasn't said anything other than him being an Adventurer.

He's just an itinerant adventurer who happens not to be a Being.
Jakob is looking for Creature adventurers to film in the same a'la Snell.  In fact, this is supposed to be part of the same documentary series... a sort of careers video for 'Cubi. 
The priests are looking for an adventurer or two for a job.

Quote from: Gabi on September 28, 2007, 08:44:22 AM
Nice chapter! I guess the fox was right about lust being able to imperil the soul. And I liked the black gloves remark.

Thanks.  The black gloves thing was inspired partly by one of my father's comments about  Doctor Who - Seeds of Doom where the evil millionaire type is always wearing them.  He was actually wrong there, the gloves were a plot point, but it always stuck with me.  I must admit it was one of my favourite lines in the chapter, though.

Quote from: Tapewolf on September 28, 2007, 09:06:20 AM

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on September 28, 2007, 07:33:52 AM
So far we have the panther, who hasn't said anything other than him being an Adventurer.

He's just an itinerant adventurer who happens not to be a Being.
Jakob is looking for Creature adventurers to film in the same a'la Snell.  In fact, this is supposed to be part of the same documentary series... a sort of careers video for 'Cubi. 
The priests are looking for an adventurer or two for a job.

The point is not what they're actually up to - -we- know they're looking. -They- don't. All three of the groups/individuals are standing around waiting to find out what the others one. That's gotta be stressful.

Notwithstanding that, the job that Jakob and the panther are being hired for... we don't have any idea what it is. "Hunt Down That Evil Johan Cross And Kill Him" ?

Quote from: llearch n'n'daCorna on September 28, 2007, 10:34:22 AM
The point is not what they're actually up to - -we- know they're looking. -They- don't. All three of the groups/individuals are standing around waiting to find out what the others one. That's gotta be stressful.

Ah.  My reply was mostly about the the panther and Jakob, since it looked like speculation about things which didn't need it.  I included the priests for completeness.

-Everything- needs to be speculated about.

Why else would you be posting the story here? ;-]


Slightly more seriously, the job that the priest and the novice want the two of them to accomplish has a number of possibilities to come. And... if Jakob can detect Cubi in action (as seems likely, from their point of view) then they're going to want to hire him for something to do with Cubi.

In which case, my earlier, slightly off-the-cuff response might well be likely... ;-]

llearch, for your information, the story server does not like mac-formatted text and crams the entire story into the title  >:3

It seems to have taken a dislike to the word 'touché' as well, although that's a problem I can live with...

Ooo.

Erm. That's probably the mac line endings, which are neither CRLF nor LF. I think.

I noticed the Touche thing, and was going to look into it when I got home. After I put my son to bed, or something.

Thanks for the bugrep, though. ;-]

QuoteErm. That's probably the mac line endings, which are neither CRLF nor LF. I think.

I think it might be just CR.

QuoteI noticed the Touche thing, and was going to look into it when I got home. After I put my son to bed, or something.

I suspect it's a unicode character in UTF-8 form.

Chapter 35

"I'm sorry," I said.  "You must have mistaken me for someone else.  I'm not for hire."

"I have heard otherwise," said the priest.  "Indeed, we know the tales of your valour... you brought about the arrest of the infamous Johan Cross when he appeared in Northwell Mansion in the guise of a white Alsatian dog..."

Paladin will love that version of events, I thought dryly.

"That happened many years ago," I laughed.  "I'd have been about twelve..."

"Not, if as I suspect, you are a Creature," he pointed out. 
"You see, my son, I told you he was evil," he added to the novice as I stopped smiling.

"Yes, I was... involved in that," I said reluctantly.  "But it doesn't mean I'm actually up for hire right now.  In fact, I got dragged into that particular encounter... it wasn't an adventuring job in the normal sense of the word."

He didn't look like he was going to take 'no' for an answer so I paused, choosing my words carefully.  "Hypothetically speaking, what sort of a mission are you thinking of?"

The priest stopped smiling himself now, and nudged the novice.
"We need you to... kill Charline," he said reluctantly.  My jaw dropped. So did the crossbow, which promptly embedded a bolt in the wall.  Even the priest looked terrified.

"No!" he said frantically. "No!  Not that mission... the other one!"

"Oh!" said the novice, cheering up slightly.  "Right. We are members of the Order of Saint Kelnar..."

"Never heard of him."

"He was a great man, a fox who came to study at the library in our city.  During his stay he performed many miracles including the slaying of the pigs, turning the miser's gold into lead, and raising a child who had drowned from the grave.  And at great risk to his life and soul, he drove out a great horde of Demons, Angels and Incubi when they tried to attack the city..."

"Has it occurred to you that he was most likely an incubus himself?"  I asked, with a smile.  The priest bared his teeth, but did not comment.

"Anyway, our then-King Zachamiar the Just decreed that a temple be raised to honour his great deeds in saving the kingdom.  Until he left, our founders dedicated their lives to learning and preserving all his teachings, that we may strive to follow his example.
"Our order grew in numbers and tithings, until it began to rival the might of the King himself.  This does not sit well with our present ruler, King Ordros, and his soldiers were sent to plunder the temple..."

The priest took over the story.  "They took our most holy relics," he snarled.  "And we seek an adventurer, a most skilled thief, to retrieve them."  He slapped something down on the chest of drawers by the door.  It looked for all the world like a shopping-list.

"Let me get this straight," I said incredulously.  "You want us to rob the King?  Forget it!  I'm not interested in getting my head stuck on a pole."  The priest looked crestfallen for a few moments - then his expressison hardened.

"As I said, we have great need of your skill," he began.  "Much as I do not wish to have to resort to anything quite as crude as blackmail, it is a definite option.  Think what those downstairs might believe if they saw you standing over their friend!"

To my horror, there was a whirring sound as the novice whipped out a camera and took a photo.  It was a recent machine, one of the indigenous copies of the Polaroid system from Earth.  I considered my options.  If I were to transmute some of the air next to him, the gamma flux would fog the film, but it would probably kill him too and that was something I did not want.  In any case, it was too late now as the film was already developing.

"You don't want me, you want Snell!" I said.  "He's the master thief, not me..."

"We couldn't find him," piped up the novice.  No surprise there, I thought darkly, he's spent the last two centuries perfecting his disappearing act.  And I'd disappear too if I knew what these loonies wanted.  Perhaps I should have done, but I was morbidly curious.

"Isn't this one of your feathers?" the priest added, proffering something small and only a slightly darker grey than my fur.  It was around this point that I started to wonder whether the word 'evil' meant the same thing to the priest as it did to me.  Perhaps it as some strange codeword for 'creature'.

"Very well," I said, a heavy sigh of defeat, "I can't make any promises, but I'll see what I can do."

"But you wanted the two of us though, didn't you?" asked the panther, whose expression had become curious when he'd learned the priests' affiliation.  "Since is a pious cause, count me in as well."

"Excellent, my children!" the priest exclaimed, and giving us a small quantity of coins each for expenses, left with the novice.  As they wandered back to the bar, I heard him discussing 'that mission' again.
"For Charline, we will need someone evil.  But not too evil... we do not want them to join her cause, or take her place..."

I made the sign of the cross for whatever poor sod they might find to feed her with. 


We made our way through the forest, towards the capital city.  We spoke little, save to learn each others names, since the forest was home to a number of outlaws and we did not wish to attract undue attention to ourselves.  Nonetheless, the silence between us felt unnatural and oppressive.  Our luck had held so far, but I didn' want to be the one to spoil it.  In the end it was Zivan who broke the silence.

"Who is Charline, anyway, Jakob?" he asked.

"You don't know?"  I returned, slightly bemused.

"I'm asking, aren't I?"

"Very well.  She's a succubus," I replied.  "A succubus gone bad."

"How bad?  I have heard most evil tales of one called 'Destania'..."

"Well, Professor Destania just wants to teach people murder, torture, rape and soul-eating..."

"'Just' soul-eating?"

"...Whereas Charline wants to eat the souls of everyone in the world or something.  Given the choice, I'd probably choose the Professor.  It's a bit like deciding whether you'd rather be hanged or beheaded, but at least she looks cute."

We were approaching the realm when a crossbow bolt slammed into the tree in front of us.

"Hands in the air," said a voice from the trees in the rough direction it had come from.  I looked around, but the panther had vanished into the shadows.

"What are you after?"  I asked, raising my hands.

"Your money," replied the voice, belonging to a feline, apparently a Being.  Emerging, he stood in front of me with a sword in his hand and behind him, a ferret was reloading his crossbow.

"Now then... be a good little doggy and hand over the money.." he repeated.  With a sigh I reached for my pocket, when something big and heavy knocked me to the ground.  Zivan had sprung down from the trees like his feral cousins.

Amazed, the ferret fumbled with the bolt.  By the time he had recovered, the cat was in the way, engaging in a deadly game of swordplay.  It didn't take a genius to see that they were playing for keeps.

I gave a gasp of horror as the cat feinted and made a quick diagonal slice, breaking through the panther's guard and slashing his exposed belly.  The outlaw's expression soon changed as his victim ignored the death stroke.  Unable to believe it his guard dropped for a second and he died as the panther's blade pierced his heart.

"Oh my gods, you killed him," I whimpered, kneeling by the cat and staring down at him, a pathetic expression of shock in his dying eyes.  I don't know if he ever realised that his opponent could harden his skin on demand.

"You... you'll regret that," the ferret snarled at Zivan, catching the sword his friend had dropped and wielding it himself.  His face was contorted with rage.  "...you'll apologise to him... in person!"
He made a graceful leap and launched a blow that might have severed the Angel's head if I hadn't opened fire with my own crossbow, taking him in the shoulder and ruining his stroke.  The panther reacted quickly, slashing his throat and causing me to vomit.  I tried to keep my face from straying to his blood-soaked form, and instead laid a hand upon the cat's features, gently closing his eyes.

Now there was but one bandit left, a young wolf who tried to run, only to trip in a rabbithole.  Before he could get up the panther was on him, sword at his throat.  The kid knelt there, begging for quarter.  Unsure what to do with him, we decided to bind his hands and take him with us into the town.

"No," I said, as the panther made to leave.  He turned around.
"We have to bury them," I said.  Zivan looked taken aback, but there was a hard edge to my voice and he did not argue.

It was some hours later when we finally entered the town.  The wolf was arrested, and despite my protests and pleas for clemency, he was later executed in the square.  I did not stay to watch.


Not long after we found ourselves in another inn.  In the morning we would have to start planning our mission, but for now we just needed to rest after the journey.  I was still cut up about the encounter we'd had in the forest.

"Well, at least they are all together again," I said dully.  "The bandits, I mean..."
Why hadn't we just turned the wolf loose?  He could have lived, could have started anew and made something useful out of his life.  Now his body lay in an unmarked grave.  His head would follow a few days later.

"Speaking of which, you didn't do very well against them," Zivan commented idly.  "What were you going to do... pay them?"

"Yes," I replied in a surprised voice.  He started and looked me up and down, trying to decide if I was taking the piss.

"You would hand over your money?  To them?  Just like that?  What kind of an adventurer are you?"

"I'm not one at all," I said.  "I'm just doing research."

"On what?  Getting mugged?" he replied.  "Come on.  Why are you out here with me?"

"Well, as you may remember, I wasn't given an awful lot of choice in the matter,"
I pointed out.  "I'll admit I could have split by now.  Their hold over me vanished the moment I walked out the door.  But I'm tagging along with you because you could be worth a lot of money to me."  He stiffened.
"Not like that," I added hastily.  "I'm researching a documentary about Creatures who have decided to take up the life of an adventurer, examine the pro's and cons.  In effect, a careers video for the Succubus and Incubus Academy."

"An intriguing prospect," he said, "but one that must wait until after our mission is done."

"Mmm," I agreed.  "Now, how are we going to do this?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," he said, and put his head into his hands.

---

Thanks to Charles and Charline.  And Keaton for inspiring the darker sections...

There's something odd about hearing someone tell Jakob to be a 'good little doggy'.

Quote from: Gabi on October 21, 2007, 11:48:30 AM
There's something odd about hearing someone tell Jakob to be a 'good little doggy'.

Comparing someone to their animal counterpart is likely considered a big insult (remember Merlitz and the Human).

Nice. And the darker sections put a highlight on the story as a whole, I think. You need a little shadow to brighten the light, as it were...

Ohh the pitch of darkness..Lovely

So, Charline's trying to eat everyone's souls, eh?  That sounds like something she'd be doing.  Yup.   :3

Mean ol cubi lioness.

Writer's block R us.

Chapter 36

I stared at Zivan.  It wasn't just the magnitude of our task which had upset him, he was genuinely distressed.

"What's the matter?"  I asked him.  After his scoffing at my refusal to fight, it seemed unthinkable that he would feel any remorse - hardened warrior that he was - but nonetheless, something was eating at him.

"Was it the kid?" I asked.

"Yes," he sighed.  "I didn't know they executed minors here..."

"Come on," I said softly, "What's done is done.  We can't bring him back.  It's horrible, but there's nothing we can do.  We have to put it behind us and carry out the mission."

"I guess you're right," he sighed.  "So, what do we need to do?"

"Gather information," I replied.  "Find out a way to get in, get around and take back what we need before they know what's happened."


Disguised as a beggar I sat by the side of the road, watching casually as a griffin-cart drew up to the rear entrance of the castle.  The realm was very backward, the King having a loathing of modern technology, and it had not been difficult for the griffins' union to impose a ban on all motorized vehicles.  The driver of this cart was a merchant, a guild-member who would bring supplies to the palace via the tradesman's entrance.

In the guard's mind I could see that he arrived every Monday at about 10am.  This would be very useful.
Behind me, another guard was approaching, about to move me on.  I looked up at him and his eyes unfocused.
It was a little trick Snell had taught me... modifying the surface thoughts before they could be committed to memory.  Obvious in hindsight, although it would take some practice to be as proficient at is as Snell was.  So far I could only make it work with the mind in a certain state, and of course it would never work on a shielded mind.  The guard ignored me and walked past.

That night I entered the dreams of the merchant.  One possibility was to prevent him from waking, and to steal his identity for a day.  In his clothes and form I could take the griffin-cart into the castle myself, but things would be ill for him if I made a mistake and angered the palace.  I wasn't sure I wanted to risk another head in the square next to the kid's.  Gently nudging his dreams to the morning's delivery, I saw where he went, and from this I was able to sketch out a map of the back entrance, at least as far as the kitchens.

Entering the dreams of some guards helped flesh things out still further.  I found the mind of one who patrolled inside the castle itself, and thus built up a plan of the interior, as well as I could remember it. 

Meanwhile, Zivan had not been idle.  On the pretence that he was doing a study of religions, he managed to obtain some rather interesting information.

The official faith of the realm was Ronakism, and in keeping with the realm it was extremely harsh and puritanical.  The sole exception to this was the day on which it was held that their god, Ronak the Creator, rested after creating the material universe.  Hence, the faithful would hold wild orgies every sabbath while their god was not watching.

Asking about the Order of St Kelnar brought forth a stream of propaganda which the panther positively lapped up.  It seemed that King Ordros had a particular hatred or jealousy reserved for that order, and he had in fact commanded a special celebration on the success of the raid.  Some of the choicest treasures which he had managed to liberate would be placed upon public display for the whole of the sabbath.

"Well, I think it's good as a backup plan," he said, "but I still want to take on the palace."

"Are you nuts?"  I replied, aghast.  "You want to take on the most heavily-fortified building in the realm?  And then come back to steal the rest, assuming the celebration even still goes ahead after whatever happens during our attack?  Assuming that we're both still alive, come to that?"

"Yes," he said, and the steely edge to his voice left no room for any doubts.


The passageway was some kind of underground river, ending with a dock.  It may have become hidden as the castle was expanded and rebuilt over time, or it may have been part of the original design.  Either way, it was long-forgotten and the only people who remembered it were the King and his advisors, who viewed it as a secret escape route, and the few guards posted to thwart any potential intrusion were the concealed entrance somehow rediscovered.  It was through the dreams of one such guard that I uncovered its existence, although the entrance took some finding as the season had changed since last he had been there.

I was still not happy about the approach we were taking, but Zivan had been most insistent.  What finally won me over, albeit grudgingly, was the realisation that we wouldn't be able to get all of the treasures we needed.  The ones scheduled for display had already been moved to another location, but the rest remained in the vault.  Best to try and take those by stealth first.

Alas, we bungled the entrance... a loose footfall knocked a stone off the docks and into the water with a splash.  Fortunately there was only one guard on duty at the time, a raccoon whom we managed to subdue before he could call for help.  Zivan rushed to him, and prepared to end his life.

"No... more... killing!" I spat, pushing the angel aside.  "Have you forgotten the wolf so quickly?"

"But he was only a kid," Zivan pointed out angrily, picking himself up.

"Compared to us, so is he!" I pointed at the raccoon.  "Anyway, he's only doing his job!"

"...which just so happens to include killing us," he shot back.

"Fine," I said, wrapping one of my tentacles around the raccoon's throat and squeezing.  He clawed at it for a few moments and then slumped to the ground.  As he did so, I relieved him of his weapons.  "Happy?"  I asked.  "Or do you want to kill an unarmed, defenceless man?"  The panther simply glowered back at me. 

"Look," I pointed out.  "If he doesn't report back he's going to be missed and then we'll have the whole damned castle searching for us.  What we need to do is this."

I shook the guard awake.  He promptly found himself staring into the cold eyes of an incubus, which did not sit well with him.  Covering his mouth to prevent him from screaming, I bored into him, eating his fear and erasing the last three minutes from his mind.  When it was over I used Snell's trick to prevent him from seeing us, and led him shakily back to the point he had been guarding.  Silently we slipped behind him, disappearing before the last of my holding spells could wear off.  We were inside the castle.

As we snuck around the corridors, it amused me to think that I was now breaking into the palace of an evil despot in much the same way that a young weasel Being had broken into mine some centuries past.  As I remembered what had happened to him, a sudden thought struck me.  If the King is a Creature, we're dead.  I kept it to myself.

We headed first to the vault, to make sure that the dreams I had seen were true, and not fantasy.  It was not uncommon for a person to dream, for example, of a secret door in their home or place of work that they had never opened before, and it was not always possible for a 'Cubi to tell if what they were seeing was real or pure imagination unless they were familiar with the person or the place of which they dreamt.

"Well, it was an off-chance," the angel said unhappily as he probed the lock.  By the sound of it he had been hoping they'd forgotten to lock it or something.  I tried a few spells, and even the tentacle-morphing trick of Snell's, but it was no use - we were going to have to get the key itself if we wanted to get in.

The sound of footsteps made me panic for a moment, but it was just a regular patrol and we managed to conceal ourselves.  I was still amazed that we had got as far as we had without interception, especially given the Angel's affinity for light magic.  Were he a demon, he would be at home with the darkness, even able to vanish into the shadows.  As it was, we relied largely on my concealment abilities and the shadows in the deeper parts of the castle.  Things would get trickier as we approached the higher floors, since it was about quarter to ten in the morning and the sun was high in the sky.

"Can we break into it?"  Zivan asked, for what seemed like the seventh time.

"No, we'll need the key.  For all the King's loathing of technology, that's a damn fine piece of locksmithing.  It's binary coded and we'll need a punchcard with just the right pattern of holes in it.  And before you ask, there are eighteen billion billion combinations, so no, we cannot brute-force it."

His face fell.  "And the King has the keycard, doesn't he?" he added.

"I think he does.  Fortunately for us, he should still be in bed."

"Are you mad?"

"Says the person who seems obsessed with retrieving treasure for some kook religion!  But yes, if my information is correct he will still be asleep.  And if we hurry, I think we can keep it that way."


King Ordros, a somewhat overweight Dalmatian, lay snoring in a sumptuous four-poster bed.  I gazed wistfully at his still form... it would be so easy.  Just a quick jerk of his soul and he would die peacefully in his sleep.  Remembering the harsh laws he had enacted, that was probably far better than the fat bastard deserved.  Still, those would be easy to fix once I had taken his place.  We were both canid so even the body-language would not be a problem.  Once the body was safely disposed of, no-one need ever know that the King had died...

Shaking my head, I drew myself back to the present.  From what I had learned, the King's habit was to sleep until around ten, when his chief advisor would come to wake him.  This would not now happen since that particular advisor had been stunned, tied up and stuffed in one of the many cupboards in his bedchamber.

As I used my powers to make the King's sleep deeper and keep the guards posted outside in a state of mild stupification, Zivan hung a 'do not disturb' sign outside the door, which I magically locked to make things easier.  Then the pair of us were free to begin sacking the room in earnest, notwithstanding that we were still trying to keep things as quiet as possible.  The panther went into raptures of delight over a set of small statues which he had found in a sock drawer, but the motherlode was in one of his robes, a wooden keycard with a combination set into an eight-by-eight grid.

He gave a muted whoop of delight, and as he did so knocked an exquisite porcelain vase onto the fireplace.

The King waxed wroth.

Oh, you just -love- ending your chapters on short sentences, don't you? ;-]

And so the first chapter of CJP is released in my lifeline.

Brilliant, just can't get enough.

it seemed like a shorter chapter than usual, but I don't read as often as the others.

I knew it couldn't all go well. It was interesting how Jakob tested himself near the end of the chapter.