"What... the heck... was that?" Jesz asked between breaths. She had slammed her back against the dark grey stone wall of Eaups' dormitory room in exhaustion. It was a simple, clean room, one that looked like the person who lived there was either OCD or never home. There was a dresser, a desk with a few religious paraphernalia placed neatly along the edge, a bookshelf that reached from floor to ceiling with books placed neatly in order of size, and the bed with folds so sharp and neat that they had become a permanent part of the fabric.
"Sshh!! Not so loud! I'm not... supposed to have... guests!" Eaups was also panting as he leaned against the large wooden door.
"Well we could not go... to my family's house," Mel said as she lay on the bed, an arm over her eyes. It was probably the first time a female ever graced Eaups' bed, though the circumstances were not as he would have liked. "They would shoot first..."
Manfred pulled the chair out from the desk and sat on it backwards, the back between his legs. "I don't know about you guys, but I think that was actually kind of fun." The rest of them shot glares at him. "I'm just saying, no one got hurt... well, none of us anyway."
"Remind me why we have not turned him in yet?" Mel asked, returning the crook of her arm to her eyes.
"Murphy wanted us to help him," Jesz replied, pushing away from the wall and folding her arms in front of her. "Does this have something to do with your Mission, Eaups? I mean, you've met Murphy before, right?"
He nodded to her. "Yeah, but I'd never been possessed by him before. There's a ceremony we perform where we commune with our god in spirit. It's just, he always wanted to play poker."
"What mission? What are you talking about?" Manfred had pulled out a long needle from somewhere on his person and began to pick his teeth with it.
"I'm the Avatar of Murphy, the god of Fate. I have to do what he tells me. That's my Mission. I'm supposed to have a team of helpers, my Companions. That's you guys," Eaups said, pointing to the others vaguely. "Apparently, my Mission is to help you achieve your destiny." He gave Manfred a half-hopeful smile. "You... wouldn't happen to know what that is, would you?" This just got a shrug out of Manfred.
Jesz started to pace around the room, swinging her legs stiffly in front of her. "Whatever his destiny is, it better pay well. Something tells me we aren't going to get paid for that last job."
"We are not in this for the money, Jesz. We made an oath to help Eaups, even if we come away empty-handed." Mel rolled into a sitting position, her arms resting on her knees.
A knowing grin worked its way into the red-head's features and she began to toss a small golden ball from hand to hand. "Oh, I wouldn't say 'empty-handed' exactly."
"Is that the Gazer?"
"Heehee!" Jesz swiftly pulled the ball up to her eye. The mechanical iris contracted and began spinning with a pleasant whir. "Let's see... what did she say about it telling us the truth?"
She peered at Mel with the Gazer. Through the small hole in the back, she began to see words appear around her, or more appropriately, they appeared in Jesz' mind.
Melody Adina Tanger
Age: 22
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 158 lbs
Occupation: Noblewoman, Austringer, and Companion.
"Your name is Melody?!" she blurted out and giggled. It seemed that the longer she looked, the more information it would give.
"Hey!! I hate that name! Where did you get that?" Jesz continued to look through the Gazer, but soon the taller woman was lunging at her, trying to take it. "Give it to me! We can use it on our mystery man over there!" It quickly became a sisterly game of keep-away, with Jesz hunching over and turning her back to try to keep Mel away from it.
"It's mine! I picked it up! No fair, your arms are longer!" Suddenly, everyone paused as the mechanical eye slipped from Jesz' fingers and landed on the floor with a dense thud. It rolled loudly up to Manfred, who picked it up out of curiosity. The moment his finger grazed it, the Gazer's pupil dilated fully and the iris stopped spinning. The gentle vibration that had come from it before ceased completely. Manfred raised it to his own eye, looking over at the pair of girls who were paused in mid-nelson.
"It's not working." he complained, tapping it a few times on his leg before trying it again.
"Jesz! You broke it already!" Mel said. Eaups walked over to him and took the device, trying it out for himself. It remained still and silent, giving him no information. He quietly walked over to the bookshelf and pulled out a few tomes, placing the Gazer on the floor as he sat down and spread some books out in front of him. The others just ignored him.
"I didn't break it! You shouldn't have grabbed it from me!"
"Shh! We don't want to be too loud, remember?" Manfred interjected. Jesz and Mel both shot a glare at him.
"Maybe you broke it? It didn't stop moving until you picked it up, right?"
"Yes, maybe you are here to sabotage us. Are you positive you do not remember anything?"
Both of the girls had stopped fighting and had come up close to Manfred with accusing expressions plastered on their faces. He leaned back in the chair defensively. "I... I remember running along the rooftops at night. I think I was injured, dying." His hand raised up to his side, where the small hole from the night before had become considerably larger and showed the healing wound beneath. It had already begun to scar over. "Suddenly, everything went purple... and the next thing I know, I'm in your room and you're taking off your..." He stopped and gave Jesz an innocent smile, getting a scowl in return. "Shoes..."
"Purple? Sounds like Murphy's doing, alright..." Eaups said distractedly, his eyes never leaving the books that he was flipping through.
"You guys keep mentioning him, but why would he choose me?"
"Who knows? Why do the gods do anything they do?" Mel said with a shrug, returning to the bed. Several moments of awkward silence passed. Manfred took the opportunity to look over each of his new acquaintances and try to develop his first impressions of them.
That one, Mel, is always so serious. She doesn't trust me. I don't think she even likes me, and I don't blame her. I don't know if I like me. But she did save my life...
Eaups is so nervous and innocent. I think he needs to get laid. But at least he seems trustworthy.
Jesz... is a bit unpredictable, but kinda cute. In a cut-your-throat way. I wonder if I have a thing for flat-
"AHA! I knew I'd seen it before!" Euaps cried cheerfully as he jumped into the air straight from his cross-legged sitting position. He was holding a heavy tome entitled "Ackmee's Catalogue of Holy Trinckets and Tincktures" in his hands and beaming at it.
"Seen what?" Jesz asked him curiously. "That eyeball thing?"
"Yes! It's called Occam's Gazer! It says here is was part of a set but it doesn't mention anything else about the set. According to the book," Eaups said, his tone getting more serious as he pushed past Manfred and splayed the book out on the desk, "the Gazer was designed to be used by the Avatars of the gods." He ran his finger along a line of text as he read directly from it. "When one who hath been Chosen by a god layeth a finger upon the Eye, it prepareth itself for its new master. Once the ceremony of Rayban is complete, the Eye will reveal to the Avatar his true path."
"Chosen?" asked Jesz.
"True path?" asked Mel.
"Layeth?" Manfred muttered.
"It doesn't say much else... Only that the ceremony is to be preformed at some temple in the Oakley Forest."
Mel furrowed her brow in thought. "I have heard of that. The Oakley Forest... I believe it is on an island between Mayford and Drysen. I was told that it is a dangerous place. Neither country claims it because neither wants anything to do with it. They say men have sailed to the island only to return hundreds of years later."
Jesz, who had been using the tip of a dagger to pick at something in her teeth, picked up the Gazer and turned it over in her hand. There seemed to be writing on the bottom of the Gazer, but it was in no language she had ever seen before. "I'm sure we could be in and out, no time at all. We did agree to follow you into any danger..."
"I didn't agree to that," Manfred said, but was largely ignored.
"I want to go! If this thing can show me what I'm supposed to do as the Avatar of Murphy, then what's a few hundred years? Besides, I'm sure Murphy will keep us safe!" Eaups' eyes were sparkling with hope and excitement at the prospect, as if he had just been told he was going camping with Mountain "Lion" Jack, the object of his childhood affections. As he looked up at Manfred, his expression changed subtly, from overwhelming joy to overwhelming hopefulness. "You'll come with us, won't you Mr. Chosen?"
Manfred pulled back just a little, unprepared for the display. He glanced up at Mel, who was ignoring him, and Jesz, who was biting her lower lip. "Look, I'm not... chosen or anything. I don't know anything about this Murphy or whatever. And I want to remember who I am and what I'm doing here. ...But I suppose I do owe you guys for saving me. I'll go, but only if you promise I'll be back this century."
Eaups' smile returned full-force and he crossed his finger over his heart. "I promise! Avatar's Honor!"
"If we are going to go to Oakley Island, we better get our supplies ready and look for a ship. Provided we can find one with a captain that crazy." Mel stood up and stretched her arms over her head, pushing her bust out a little to get the boys' attention. She brushed up against Jesz, who had been smiling at Manfred, and smirked. Mel never missed an opportunity to show her up. "Sooner is better than later. I am sure someone will be asking about Aska soon, and I would rather not be around when trouble comes looking for us." They all agreed.
"Alright! We'll meet down at the harbor then?" Eaups asked.
"Yes, in two hours. We will travel light. Manfred, you go with Jesz..." Mel had picked up her bow and had opened the door to Eaups' cell of a dorm room, only to find a rather humorless man blocking her way.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Chapter 9 - Holy Craps
Twin cubes careened down the soft, green, velvet-covered pit and bounced chaotically off the spiked wall. As they eventually lost their energy and came to a rest, they were greeted by loud cheers.
"Seven!" shouted a young man dressed to the nines. He was surrounded by a crowd of spectators, all a clamor. Each person there was tall, beautiful, and well-dressed. Fine jewels gleamed from the necks of their owners like constellations. Several hands were embellished with rocks so large wars would be fought over them. The combined riches of the crowd would be enough to let an entire kingdom retire peacefully.
In the middle of this crowd, however, was a Man dressed to the elevens, as if being dressed to the nines was just not enough. His pure white and incredibly suave smile could light the room, literally. The tuxedo he wore sparkled so much that it could probably be seen in a pitch-black room. Atop the Man's head was a short, stiff hat that was tilted ever-so-slightly; it would look odd on anyone else, but he made anything look good. His every movement was born out of some seemingly limitless supply of confidence, even as he leaned into the pit to simply pick up the dice. In fact, one might even believe that he, himself, was somehow the source of all confidence in the world, and that all other boldness was just a shadow on the wall of a cave.
Dice in hand, he grinned at the audience in general and winked at the women, eliciting a sigh from each of them (and even several of the men). He brought the dice up to the Lady who was standing beside him. Like him, she seemed to effuse a warm glow. She was tall, almost as tall as he was, with hair the color of the midnight sky spilling down her back and shoulders, some of it constantly covering part of her face. The dress she wore revealed just enough of her perfect, lightly freckled skin to kindle the imagination of any who spent more than a passing glance on her form. No jewels graced her figure, as they would only detract from the splendor. Full, kissable lips were twisted in a seductive smile as she blew on the dice in the Man's hand. "For luck," the Lady said. At the sound of that voice, teenage boys would gladly go through puberty in a matter of seconds.
The Man threw the dice again. "Seven!" the young man called again, much to the delight of the onlookers. This time, the Lady leaned over, making sure to show off just a little more of her flesh to the handsome young announcer, and grabbed the dice.
"MURPHY!" came a shrill shriek over the crowd. The Man turned around with a confused, yet still strangely confident smile on his face.
"Ah, Skeps. I didn't expect to see you at such an... establishment," Murphy said as the crowd fell silent and drew back a little. In a matter of moments, they had dissipated and gone on to other tables with other games.
"Believe me, I would have preferred spending the next eternity blissfully unaware of this establishment and all others like it." Skeps was a severe-looking woman with blond hair tied up in a tight bun. She wore a business suit with a long skirt that hid most of her legs. It was impossible to tell her age. As she looked up and down the pair before her, she pushed up on the bridge of the small, square-framed glasses that adorned her face. "I see you brought your little... Lady."
Murphy frowned at her, an entirely unnatural expression for him. "Her name is Felicity," he said. "It comes from the old language and means-"
"I KNOW what it means. Send her away; my business is not for the ears of Minors." Skeps drew closer and lowered her voice. As she did, the color faded out of the scene around them. Soon, it was as though they were walking in the middle of a black-and-white, 3-dimensional painting.
"What is this about, Skeps? You know she cannot be ordered."
Before anyone could answer, there was a small burst of light nearby. Out of it walked a squirrelly young man, his arms full of books. The stack he carried was enough to hide his face from view, but a few glances gave away some of his features. He, too, wore glasses, but unlike Skeps, it seemed he actually needed them. "M-Mistress," he called out as he blindly walked towards them. There was almost no confidence in his voice.
Skeps rolled her eyes and sighed. "Can you not see I'm busy, Caret? This had better be important."
Caret lowered his arms just enough to peak over the books at Murphy. "O-oh! S-s-Sir Murphy! I-I'm sorry, I didn't... this wasn't on your schedule..."
"Meetings with him rarely are," Skeps said under her breath.
"Ma'am, you wanted me to tell you when..." Caret said, but as he stared at Murphy it slowly dawned on him that there was a woman standing there with him. "L-Lady!" A fierce blush erupted on his cheeks, made even deeper when he stumbled and dropped all the books he was carrying to the ground in a series of muted THUMPs. "Ack!"
Murphy's smile returned as he saw this. Skeps could swear she saw a gleam of something mischievous in his eyes as he turned to whisper something to Felicity. The Lady grinned and nodded to him, politely curtseying to Skeps before walking over to Caret.
"Tell me what?" Skeps demanded in a terse tone. Caret was distracted as Felicity knelt down and started to help him pick up the books. It didn't help that she looked up at him and winked. "CARET!"
"Oh! M-Mistress! A-as you know, the Council of 6 is set to meet soon. The Minors have decided that you should be the Arbiter." Caret turned his attention back to the books, trying hard not to steal a glance up at the beauty helping him. It was not very often that the gods, Minor or Major, interacted with each other, and even less so with Caret. He spent most of his time with books. Fiction, nonfiction, educational, interactive, written, drawn - it mattered not. He had read almost everything that ever had been or ever will be written, so it was no surprise that he rarely got to see the other gods and goddesses.
"Is that all?" Skeps asked.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, standing up as Felicity began to pile the books into his arms.
Skeps set her jaw as she leaned in close to Murphy, her cold, steel-grey eyes staring straight into his. The volume of her voice was low, but it was dangerous. "I will make this short and shorn. I know you are after the Senses, Fate. There are no coincidences, especially when it comes to you and your favored. One of my best judges has passed on, and now the Eye is missing. If I ever catch you involved in the death of one of my judges again, I will make sure the Council removes you. Permanently. And if you continue this futile pursuit, I will stop you."
Murphy simply stood there, a small smile on his face. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Order." He presented the dice in his hand to her. "For luck?"
Skeps narrowed her eyes, almost like she was trying to bore a hole through his skull with her gaze. "Come, Caret!" she demanded. Before turning, she hit Murphy's hand, sending the dice flying towards the pit. A few feet up from his hand, the color drained out of them and they paused in mid-air. "There's a lot to prepare for." Felicity stood up as Skeps walked over to the them, grabbing the young god by the ear. In an instant, they, and all his books, were gone.
Without warning, color flooded back into the scenery and faces of the people as time began to flow properly once more. The dice resumed their aerial arc, bounced off the floor of the pit, and rebounded off the wall before coming to a halt
"Eight!" the young man announced as the crowd let out a painful groan.
"Seven!" shouted a young man dressed to the nines. He was surrounded by a crowd of spectators, all a clamor. Each person there was tall, beautiful, and well-dressed. Fine jewels gleamed from the necks of their owners like constellations. Several hands were embellished with rocks so large wars would be fought over them. The combined riches of the crowd would be enough to let an entire kingdom retire peacefully.
In the middle of this crowd, however, was a Man dressed to the elevens, as if being dressed to the nines was just not enough. His pure white and incredibly suave smile could light the room, literally. The tuxedo he wore sparkled so much that it could probably be seen in a pitch-black room. Atop the Man's head was a short, stiff hat that was tilted ever-so-slightly; it would look odd on anyone else, but he made anything look good. His every movement was born out of some seemingly limitless supply of confidence, even as he leaned into the pit to simply pick up the dice. In fact, one might even believe that he, himself, was somehow the source of all confidence in the world, and that all other boldness was just a shadow on the wall of a cave.
Dice in hand, he grinned at the audience in general and winked at the women, eliciting a sigh from each of them (and even several of the men). He brought the dice up to the Lady who was standing beside him. Like him, she seemed to effuse a warm glow. She was tall, almost as tall as he was, with hair the color of the midnight sky spilling down her back and shoulders, some of it constantly covering part of her face. The dress she wore revealed just enough of her perfect, lightly freckled skin to kindle the imagination of any who spent more than a passing glance on her form. No jewels graced her figure, as they would only detract from the splendor. Full, kissable lips were twisted in a seductive smile as she blew on the dice in the Man's hand. "For luck," the Lady said. At the sound of that voice, teenage boys would gladly go through puberty in a matter of seconds.
The Man threw the dice again. "Seven!" the young man called again, much to the delight of the onlookers. This time, the Lady leaned over, making sure to show off just a little more of her flesh to the handsome young announcer, and grabbed the dice.
"MURPHY!" came a shrill shriek over the crowd. The Man turned around with a confused, yet still strangely confident smile on his face.
"Ah, Skeps. I didn't expect to see you at such an... establishment," Murphy said as the crowd fell silent and drew back a little. In a matter of moments, they had dissipated and gone on to other tables with other games.
"Believe me, I would have preferred spending the next eternity blissfully unaware of this establishment and all others like it." Skeps was a severe-looking woman with blond hair tied up in a tight bun. She wore a business suit with a long skirt that hid most of her legs. It was impossible to tell her age. As she looked up and down the pair before her, she pushed up on the bridge of the small, square-framed glasses that adorned her face. "I see you brought your little... Lady."
Murphy frowned at her, an entirely unnatural expression for him. "Her name is Felicity," he said. "It comes from the old language and means-"
"I KNOW what it means. Send her away; my business is not for the ears of Minors." Skeps drew closer and lowered her voice. As she did, the color faded out of the scene around them. Soon, it was as though they were walking in the middle of a black-and-white, 3-dimensional painting.
"What is this about, Skeps? You know she cannot be ordered."
Before anyone could answer, there was a small burst of light nearby. Out of it walked a squirrelly young man, his arms full of books. The stack he carried was enough to hide his face from view, but a few glances gave away some of his features. He, too, wore glasses, but unlike Skeps, it seemed he actually needed them. "M-Mistress," he called out as he blindly walked towards them. There was almost no confidence in his voice.
Skeps rolled her eyes and sighed. "Can you not see I'm busy, Caret? This had better be important."
Caret lowered his arms just enough to peak over the books at Murphy. "O-oh! S-s-Sir Murphy! I-I'm sorry, I didn't... this wasn't on your schedule..."
"Meetings with him rarely are," Skeps said under her breath.
"Ma'am, you wanted me to tell you when..." Caret said, but as he stared at Murphy it slowly dawned on him that there was a woman standing there with him. "L-Lady!" A fierce blush erupted on his cheeks, made even deeper when he stumbled and dropped all the books he was carrying to the ground in a series of muted THUMPs. "Ack!"
Murphy's smile returned as he saw this. Skeps could swear she saw a gleam of something mischievous in his eyes as he turned to whisper something to Felicity. The Lady grinned and nodded to him, politely curtseying to Skeps before walking over to Caret.
"Tell me what?" Skeps demanded in a terse tone. Caret was distracted as Felicity knelt down and started to help him pick up the books. It didn't help that she looked up at him and winked. "CARET!"
"Oh! M-Mistress! A-as you know, the Council of 6 is set to meet soon. The Minors have decided that you should be the Arbiter." Caret turned his attention back to the books, trying hard not to steal a glance up at the beauty helping him. It was not very often that the gods, Minor or Major, interacted with each other, and even less so with Caret. He spent most of his time with books. Fiction, nonfiction, educational, interactive, written, drawn - it mattered not. He had read almost everything that ever had been or ever will be written, so it was no surprise that he rarely got to see the other gods and goddesses.
"Is that all?" Skeps asked.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, standing up as Felicity began to pile the books into his arms.
Skeps set her jaw as she leaned in close to Murphy, her cold, steel-grey eyes staring straight into his. The volume of her voice was low, but it was dangerous. "I will make this short and shorn. I know you are after the Senses, Fate. There are no coincidences, especially when it comes to you and your favored. One of my best judges has passed on, and now the Eye is missing. If I ever catch you involved in the death of one of my judges again, I will make sure the Council removes you. Permanently. And if you continue this futile pursuit, I will stop you."
Murphy simply stood there, a small smile on his face. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Order." He presented the dice in his hand to her. "For luck?"
Skeps narrowed her eyes, almost like she was trying to bore a hole through his skull with her gaze. "Come, Caret!" she demanded. Before turning, she hit Murphy's hand, sending the dice flying towards the pit. A few feet up from his hand, the color drained out of them and they paused in mid-air. "There's a lot to prepare for." Felicity stood up as Skeps walked over to the them, grabbing the young god by the ear. In an instant, they, and all his books, were gone.
Without warning, color flooded back into the scenery and faces of the people as time began to flow properly once more. The dice resumed their aerial arc, bounced off the floor of the pit, and rebounded off the wall before coming to a halt
"Eight!" the young man announced as the crowd let out a painful groan.
Chapter 8 - Rubble
The sun was high and fierce by the time Manfred and the others arrived at the predetermined meeting space. After they had captured The Duke, Mel sent Aryx off to relay a message to their client, the judge, saying when and where to meet. It was always a good idea to find a neutral place for these things, and the group had been using this one for several weeks with great results. Very little was spoken as they led their bound mark out of the busier sections of the city and into the ruins of the old sector.
Tall buildings filled with busy people turned into tall ruins filled with lazy pigeons. The crowds thinned until the only people they saw were each other. This part of Kell had fallen into disrepair long ago because it was too far from the merchants, temples, homes, and other sites of interest that had risen in the newer sections. There were even rumors that it was cursed or haunted, but generally people didn't talk about the area at all. In some parts, carts, buckets, ancient fruit stands, and children's toys remained behind, scattered about on the streets and in aleys - a testament to some long forgotten exodus.
"Where are you taking me?" The Duke asked eventually as Mel prodded him forward. His hands were tied behind his back and Mel kept the blunt end of her kukri pressed against him.
"We are going to see Judge Aska," Mel replied with a grin. "You have something that does not belong to you."
Before The Duke could protest, the cry of a bird sounded from a clearing in the buildings. Aryx was perched atop a column, one of many that encircled a small stage, perhaps where an altar of a neglected temple was once placed. Mel grinned and raised her left arm. Almost immediately, Aryx launched from his vantage point and flew straight toward her, talons outstretched. The Duke squealed and ducked as the bird flew at him and grasped onto Mel's arm just a few inches behind his head.
"I was beginning to think that you would not show," came the resounding echo of a firm, yet feminine voice. Its owner stood on the stage in the middle of the columns. What surprised Manfred the most was that this judge was a woman. Despite not remembering his past, he distinctly felt that female judges were fairly uncommon. She was tall, wraith-like in feature, and had a strong, angular face. It was a face that had condemned thousands of men and women to unfair punishments without flinching. Then again, in her court there was no such thing as unfair. She was wearing the red robes of a judge with her graying, thin hair tied up in a bun. The moment Manfred stepped into view, her cold gaze shot to him. "Who is that?"
"He is… our apprentice. Pay him no heed. We are here to settle our bounty." Mel took charge of the situation, pushing The Duke in front of her as she stepped before Aska. Jesz sank back behind Manfred, all too eager to let Mel take the lead. If there was anything a thief did not like, it was a judge.
"Hmph. Fair enough, let us stick to business." Judge Aska said as she took a step off the altar towards them. She was just as tall as Mel and gave off a fearful aura that commanded respect and attention. "Let us see if the item is still intact." She grinned and walked right up to The Duke She swiftly reached to his face with a bony hand and tore the crimson patch away from his eye.
"No! You cheated me!" he shouted, closing his eyes hard and turning his face away. "You said that in exchange for giving that false testimony, you would show me the truth about the witch who took my eye!"
"Oh dear Cameron, or should I call you 'Duke?'" Aska purred, a sound that was so grating it could cut cheese. She roughly grabbed his cheeks with one hand, pulling his face up to meet hers. "I never renege on a promise. Surely you did see the truth."
"Yeah, I saw it, and I couldn't stop seeing it! No one should know what this damned thing told me! My girl was cheating, my boss thought I was a fool, my friends lied to me - even my own mom was keeping secrets, secrets that should have stayed that way! This patch is the only way to stop it from telling me things!" He shuddered in Mel's grasp as Judge Aska pulled out a strange, pointed device with a small cup in the center. "Wh-what are you gonna do with that?"
The judge pointed this device, which looked like it could easily have been given a spot in Auntie Payne's Torture Digest, directly at The Duke's false left eye. "I only lent it for a week. I'm just going to take back what is mine."
Manfred, Jesz, and Eaups were grateful that they could not see what happened next. The Duke screamed, and a moment later there was a strange sucking noise. The next thing they knew, there was an eye in the device. The eye did not look normal, however, but appeared to be put together from many overlapping layers of gold leaf. The iris and pupil seemed to be mechanical, but it was far too complicated and small for any jeweler, clock-maker, or gold smith to assemble. In the back of the eye was a small, dark hole. Judge Aska grinned as she held it up in the mid-day sun to look at it. "Ahhh… Occam's Gazer. You're finally home."
The Duke clenched his eyes shut. Mel let go of the rope and let him fall to his knees. The object was back with its rightful owner and he was no longer needed. "Fine, take it! I never could find a buyer, anyway." The Duke stumbled to his feet and pushed past Manfred, hands still bound, heading for the busier sections of town. Manfred was about to stop him when Jesz put her hand up in a gesture that said, "Let him go."
"It is with its rightful owner, now," Mel said, shifting her weight as she started to put the kukri away. "Now for our pay." Under normal circumstances, a proper exchange would have taken place, with money and item changing hands at the same time. But it was a tedious, stressful affair that often ended up in needless fighting or hostages. Besides, everyone knew you could trust a judge.
"Yes," Aska said as she continued to look over the eye. "You know, this little gem has been blessed by Skeps, the goddess of Law and Order herself. Had you but looked through it, you would have easily seen the truth. That I was lying." She held the device up to her face so that she could look at the group through the eye. "The longer you look, the more truth it tells you. Oh my, aren't you a naughty boy," she said as she looked at Manfred and smirked. "Had you used it on me, you would have known that I can't be trusted. Why should I pay for something that belongs to me? But, since you know I am capable of lying, I can't very well have you leaving here alive and telling people, now can I?"
With a snap, half a dozen men armed with crossbows stepped out from behind several of the columns, all of them trained city guards. Mel pulled back, launching Aryx and taking her bow off of her shoulder. Jesz lowered her center of gravity and pulled out her pair of knives. Eaups held his staff out in front of him, and began preparing a spell. Manfred, however, just stood there dumbly, looking at the men as if they were having tea and biscuits. But all of their actions were in vain, because each one already had an arrow aimed at them.
"I should have known," Mel growled behind clenched teeth.
"Oh, don't kill yourself over it," the judge said as she stepped back onto the altar area. "That's our job." With that, she raised her hand. In unison, the guards all raised their crossbows, improving their already deadly aim. "I wish I could promise that it won't hurt, but... what is that noise?"
For some time, the distant sound of thunder could be heard from somewhere in the city. But as Judge Aska and her guards prepared to attack, the noise had grown, and changed. Here it was a CLINK clink... there it was a the deep rummmmble of stone on stone... soon it was replaced by the almost melodic, distressed sound of a bell that had fallen out of its steeple and was rolling along the ground. Behind Manfred and the others, Aska could see that it was indeed a bell, now misshapen and wobbling down the road with a pitiful sound. It collided with an abandoned fruit cart, which sent the cart careening into a pole. The pole teetered for a moment before slapping a sleeping cat on the back, which jumped a good ten feet in the air and landed on huge piece of masonry that was precariously balanced along a wall. Slowly the chunk of rock started to roll, making the cat jump off, and collided with the first column in the abandoned temple. The guards were all looking up at the column as it leaned forward, its balance fighting with gravity until finally it collapsed on the second column, which fell on the third and down the line. Too late the guards realized that they were directly in the line of fire.
"Sod this!" one of the guards said as he started to scramble away, but too late. The columns fell all around them, burying the guards in a cloud of dust and a ton of marble. Judge Aska looked up, the second to last column now leaning against the final column, which would fall directly on her. She started to back up, but smiled and relaxed as the final column one held firm... until...
MEOW! Jesz saw it all in slow motion. The cat had landed directly behind Aska, and as she took a final step away from the offending column, she had stepped on the poor cat's tail. The cat let out a sound that had no right coming from such a small animal, then jumped straight up with all its tiny-yet-incredibly-sharp claws out, and attached itself to the judge's head and face. Aska screamed and started to run wildly, dropping Occam's Gazer and pulling at the cat with both hands. Just as the cat was pulled free, Judge Aska ran head first into the only standing column. This small force, unfortunately, was enough to send the ancient piece of marble crumbling to pieces on top of her.
Within 13 seconds, everyone left alive, even the Duke, had made it a good 300 yards away from the rubble.
Tall buildings filled with busy people turned into tall ruins filled with lazy pigeons. The crowds thinned until the only people they saw were each other. This part of Kell had fallen into disrepair long ago because it was too far from the merchants, temples, homes, and other sites of interest that had risen in the newer sections. There were even rumors that it was cursed or haunted, but generally people didn't talk about the area at all. In some parts, carts, buckets, ancient fruit stands, and children's toys remained behind, scattered about on the streets and in aleys - a testament to some long forgotten exodus.
"Where are you taking me?" The Duke asked eventually as Mel prodded him forward. His hands were tied behind his back and Mel kept the blunt end of her kukri pressed against him.
"We are going to see Judge Aska," Mel replied with a grin. "You have something that does not belong to you."
Before The Duke could protest, the cry of a bird sounded from a clearing in the buildings. Aryx was perched atop a column, one of many that encircled a small stage, perhaps where an altar of a neglected temple was once placed. Mel grinned and raised her left arm. Almost immediately, Aryx launched from his vantage point and flew straight toward her, talons outstretched. The Duke squealed and ducked as the bird flew at him and grasped onto Mel's arm just a few inches behind his head.
"I was beginning to think that you would not show," came the resounding echo of a firm, yet feminine voice. Its owner stood on the stage in the middle of the columns. What surprised Manfred the most was that this judge was a woman. Despite not remembering his past, he distinctly felt that female judges were fairly uncommon. She was tall, wraith-like in feature, and had a strong, angular face. It was a face that had condemned thousands of men and women to unfair punishments without flinching. Then again, in her court there was no such thing as unfair. She was wearing the red robes of a judge with her graying, thin hair tied up in a bun. The moment Manfred stepped into view, her cold gaze shot to him. "Who is that?"
"He is… our apprentice. Pay him no heed. We are here to settle our bounty." Mel took charge of the situation, pushing The Duke in front of her as she stepped before Aska. Jesz sank back behind Manfred, all too eager to let Mel take the lead. If there was anything a thief did not like, it was a judge.
"Hmph. Fair enough, let us stick to business." Judge Aska said as she took a step off the altar towards them. She was just as tall as Mel and gave off a fearful aura that commanded respect and attention. "Let us see if the item is still intact." She grinned and walked right up to The Duke She swiftly reached to his face with a bony hand and tore the crimson patch away from his eye.
"No! You cheated me!" he shouted, closing his eyes hard and turning his face away. "You said that in exchange for giving that false testimony, you would show me the truth about the witch who took my eye!"
"Oh dear Cameron, or should I call you 'Duke?'" Aska purred, a sound that was so grating it could cut cheese. She roughly grabbed his cheeks with one hand, pulling his face up to meet hers. "I never renege on a promise. Surely you did see the truth."
"Yeah, I saw it, and I couldn't stop seeing it! No one should know what this damned thing told me! My girl was cheating, my boss thought I was a fool, my friends lied to me - even my own mom was keeping secrets, secrets that should have stayed that way! This patch is the only way to stop it from telling me things!" He shuddered in Mel's grasp as Judge Aska pulled out a strange, pointed device with a small cup in the center. "Wh-what are you gonna do with that?"
The judge pointed this device, which looked like it could easily have been given a spot in Auntie Payne's Torture Digest, directly at The Duke's false left eye. "I only lent it for a week. I'm just going to take back what is mine."
Manfred, Jesz, and Eaups were grateful that they could not see what happened next. The Duke screamed, and a moment later there was a strange sucking noise. The next thing they knew, there was an eye in the device. The eye did not look normal, however, but appeared to be put together from many overlapping layers of gold leaf. The iris and pupil seemed to be mechanical, but it was far too complicated and small for any jeweler, clock-maker, or gold smith to assemble. In the back of the eye was a small, dark hole. Judge Aska grinned as she held it up in the mid-day sun to look at it. "Ahhh… Occam's Gazer. You're finally home."
The Duke clenched his eyes shut. Mel let go of the rope and let him fall to his knees. The object was back with its rightful owner and he was no longer needed. "Fine, take it! I never could find a buyer, anyway." The Duke stumbled to his feet and pushed past Manfred, hands still bound, heading for the busier sections of town. Manfred was about to stop him when Jesz put her hand up in a gesture that said, "Let him go."
"It is with its rightful owner, now," Mel said, shifting her weight as she started to put the kukri away. "Now for our pay." Under normal circumstances, a proper exchange would have taken place, with money and item changing hands at the same time. But it was a tedious, stressful affair that often ended up in needless fighting or hostages. Besides, everyone knew you could trust a judge.
"Yes," Aska said as she continued to look over the eye. "You know, this little gem has been blessed by Skeps, the goddess of Law and Order herself. Had you but looked through it, you would have easily seen the truth. That I was lying." She held the device up to her face so that she could look at the group through the eye. "The longer you look, the more truth it tells you. Oh my, aren't you a naughty boy," she said as she looked at Manfred and smirked. "Had you used it on me, you would have known that I can't be trusted. Why should I pay for something that belongs to me? But, since you know I am capable of lying, I can't very well have you leaving here alive and telling people, now can I?"
With a snap, half a dozen men armed with crossbows stepped out from behind several of the columns, all of them trained city guards. Mel pulled back, launching Aryx and taking her bow off of her shoulder. Jesz lowered her center of gravity and pulled out her pair of knives. Eaups held his staff out in front of him, and began preparing a spell. Manfred, however, just stood there dumbly, looking at the men as if they were having tea and biscuits. But all of their actions were in vain, because each one already had an arrow aimed at them.
"I should have known," Mel growled behind clenched teeth.
"Oh, don't kill yourself over it," the judge said as she stepped back onto the altar area. "That's our job." With that, she raised her hand. In unison, the guards all raised their crossbows, improving their already deadly aim. "I wish I could promise that it won't hurt, but... what is that noise?"
For some time, the distant sound of thunder could be heard from somewhere in the city. But as Judge Aska and her guards prepared to attack, the noise had grown, and changed. Here it was a CLINK clink... there it was a the deep rummmmble of stone on stone... soon it was replaced by the almost melodic, distressed sound of a bell that had fallen out of its steeple and was rolling along the ground. Behind Manfred and the others, Aska could see that it was indeed a bell, now misshapen and wobbling down the road with a pitiful sound. It collided with an abandoned fruit cart, which sent the cart careening into a pole. The pole teetered for a moment before slapping a sleeping cat on the back, which jumped a good ten feet in the air and landed on huge piece of masonry that was precariously balanced along a wall. Slowly the chunk of rock started to roll, making the cat jump off, and collided with the first column in the abandoned temple. The guards were all looking up at the column as it leaned forward, its balance fighting with gravity until finally it collapsed on the second column, which fell on the third and down the line. Too late the guards realized that they were directly in the line of fire.
"Sod this!" one of the guards said as he started to scramble away, but too late. The columns fell all around them, burying the guards in a cloud of dust and a ton of marble. Judge Aska looked up, the second to last column now leaning against the final column, which would fall directly on her. She started to back up, but smiled and relaxed as the final column one held firm... until...
MEOW! Jesz saw it all in slow motion. The cat had landed directly behind Aska, and as she took a final step away from the offending column, she had stepped on the poor cat's tail. The cat let out a sound that had no right coming from such a small animal, then jumped straight up with all its tiny-yet-incredibly-sharp claws out, and attached itself to the judge's head and face. Aska screamed and started to run wildly, dropping Occam's Gazer and pulling at the cat with both hands. Just as the cat was pulled free, Judge Aska ran head first into the only standing column. This small force, unfortunately, was enough to send the ancient piece of marble crumbling to pieces on top of her.
Within 13 seconds, everyone left alive, even the Duke, had made it a good 300 yards away from the rubble.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Chapter 7.5 - ...
"Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong." Over the years, this simple adage has come to be seen as more than just a simple phrase. It has been recognized as a law of nature itself, the aptly dubbed Murphy's Law. It was not truly coincidence that the first human to utter the phrase was named Murphy, but most people believed that it was. Surely the god of Fate had nothing to do with that. The law has proven itself time and time again, as countless magicians, engineers, cat burglars, performers and explorers can attest to. People have even come to add variations, corollaries and addenda to the law. A common magician's corollary says that any spell which seems to be a dud will inevitably go off at your mother-in-law's at the most inopportune time. Likewise, a famous cat burglar was quoted as saying, "The one trap you didn't plan for will always be the one you run into 20 feet from your mark."
Few people realize that Murphy himself did not invent the law. That was actually made by Skeps, the god (at the time) of Order, though this was a matter of much regret later. However, even though Murphy he did not make the law, there is a simplicity to it that he always found charming. If Murphy had a law at all, it would be, "That which Fate wants to do, Fate will do." Either that, or "Never bet against the blind man at 6-card flop."
One of the best examples of Murphy's Law was unfolding along the busy streets of Kell, right before the eyes of Miss Ruby. Ruby was known far and wide as the friendliest tavern wench above the age of 30 in the kingdom (though no one would ever admit this to her face). She had been sitting outside The Saucy Saucer for half an hour, waiting for the tavern owner to come around so they could discuss her pay. Ruby always made it a point to be fashionably late, but her boss always made it a point to promptly forget any important meetings until an hour after he should have been there. Strangely enough, it always worked out for them. They often had meetings to discuss her pay, but this time as her boss, a rotund man with a permanent blush, approached her he could tell that something was different. Ruby had been watching some scaffolding slowly folding in on itself a block up with intense interest.
"Well Rube, what is it this time? Another pay raise? You know that coffee isn't going to pour itself," the round man said.
"What? Oh... yeah... say, Mr. Goldberg, what do you suppose that is?" Ruby pointed up the street as a ladder teetered on two legs and fell over, hitting a fruit cart and causing the large melons it carried to go flying every which way. One of the melons, a rather large, green thing with a rough rind, rolled down the middle of the street in front of the two onlookers.
"That's a watermelon," Mr. Goldberg replied.
"Yeah, yeah, but I mean... this whole thing..." As the watermelon rolled down the street, it collided with a small boy on a bicycle, causing him to veer off course and run into a wall. The resulting collision knocked a potted plant off a window sill several feet up. As the pot shattered on the ground, a single shard of pottery launched itself with incredible precision, hitting a young man squarely in the back of the head, which made him stumble and run into a nearby barrel. Water poured out of the barrel and down the street, washing several rat-like clumps of dirt towards a group of young women. The screams which followed made a carpenter lose his footing and knock over an entirely new set of scaffolding a block down the street from the two onlookers.
"That? I'd say it's one o' them things we just don't get involved with, Rube," Goldberg said. Off in the distance, the sound of clattering wood, screams, and even an explosion or two could be heard as the city-wide domino effect snaked its way throughout the town. Murphy was rather proud of his work.
Few people realize that Murphy himself did not invent the law. That was actually made by Skeps, the god (at the time) of Order, though this was a matter of much regret later. However, even though Murphy he did not make the law, there is a simplicity to it that he always found charming. If Murphy had a law at all, it would be, "That which Fate wants to do, Fate will do." Either that, or "Never bet against the blind man at 6-card flop."
One of the best examples of Murphy's Law was unfolding along the busy streets of Kell, right before the eyes of Miss Ruby. Ruby was known far and wide as the friendliest tavern wench above the age of 30 in the kingdom (though no one would ever admit this to her face). She had been sitting outside The Saucy Saucer for half an hour, waiting for the tavern owner to come around so they could discuss her pay. Ruby always made it a point to be fashionably late, but her boss always made it a point to promptly forget any important meetings until an hour after he should have been there. Strangely enough, it always worked out for them. They often had meetings to discuss her pay, but this time as her boss, a rotund man with a permanent blush, approached her he could tell that something was different. Ruby had been watching some scaffolding slowly folding in on itself a block up with intense interest.
"Well Rube, what is it this time? Another pay raise? You know that coffee isn't going to pour itself," the round man said.
"What? Oh... yeah... say, Mr. Goldberg, what do you suppose that is?" Ruby pointed up the street as a ladder teetered on two legs and fell over, hitting a fruit cart and causing the large melons it carried to go flying every which way. One of the melons, a rather large, green thing with a rough rind, rolled down the middle of the street in front of the two onlookers.
"That's a watermelon," Mr. Goldberg replied.
"Yeah, yeah, but I mean... this whole thing..." As the watermelon rolled down the street, it collided with a small boy on a bicycle, causing him to veer off course and run into a wall. The resulting collision knocked a potted plant off a window sill several feet up. As the pot shattered on the ground, a single shard of pottery launched itself with incredible precision, hitting a young man squarely in the back of the head, which made him stumble and run into a nearby barrel. Water poured out of the barrel and down the street, washing several rat-like clumps of dirt towards a group of young women. The screams which followed made a carpenter lose his footing and knock over an entirely new set of scaffolding a block down the street from the two onlookers.
"That? I'd say it's one o' them things we just don't get involved with, Rube," Goldberg said. Off in the distance, the sound of clattering wood, screams, and even an explosion or two could be heard as the city-wide domino effect snaked its way throughout the town. Murphy was rather proud of his work.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Chapter 7 - Connotations
"Hustling and bustling" is often used to describe busy streets filled with merchants and travelers and random passers-by. Whoever thought up of this term, however, had not seen the mercantile streets of Kell. Both the words denote some actual movement, but for the most part there was no real movement in the streets from the hours of 9 to 11 and 5 to 7. This was the busiest time of the day for merchants, catching people going to or coming from their various places of business. And this was very easy to do when everyone was stuck in one place.
Since Kell was also a major port and the capital city of Mayford, everything imaginable could be found within its formidable walls. The very gridlock keeps some purveyors of the less "popular" goods in business. It is, after all, hard to say "no" to someone who has been pushing for you to buy a jar of "Uncle Bunk's Acne Creme, Expectorant, and Degreaser" for the past hour, knowing that you get to spend another hour in his presence.
Manfred had never seen city streets so full of life and exotic fragrances. At least, he was pretty sure he hadn't. The quartet did their best to blend in with the crowd while keeping to the actually hustling and bustling alleyways and side streets which allowed passage at a time like this. Manfred was wearing the tight-fitting black pants he had on the night before, but a blue shirt had been purchased for him to help him fit in a little better. Nothing stood out like a man dressed entirely in black.
"Just how long was I out?" he asked conversationally.
Jesz chimed in with a matter-of-fact voice, not bothering to look back fully at him but just turning her hide to the side slightly. "3 years."
"What?!" The color drained out of Manfred's face for a moment.
"Oh yeah, we thought you weren't gonna make it. I was gettin' ready to harvest your organs for magical experiments. It's good pay." There wasn't even a hint of joking in Jesz's voice.
"Oh, do not listen to her," Mel said. "That is nonsense. Everyone knows an intact cadaver is worth far more."
"Ha ha, very funny," Manfred replied. "I don't believe you. If it had been 3 years, I would have grown a beard, wouldn't I? Huh?"
"Oh, I've been shaving you clean and selling the trimmings to witches," Jesz said loudly to be heard over the din. "But don't worry, Manfred, it'll grow back."
"Stop calling me that. That's not my name!"
"Oh, then what is?" Jesz looked back and winked at him. He was silent for a moment.
"Where are we going?" he asked the group in general as they meandered and slithered through the labyrinthine crowd. He would rather change the subject then have to try to out-think her.
"I told you, we are following Aryx," Mel said from the front of the group. Her eyes were trained on the sky most of the time.
"Yeah, you told me, but where is she lea-"
"He," Mel interrupted. "Aryx is a boy."
"Fine. Where is HE leading us?" Manfred rolled his eyes. "I mean, what is this bounty you're all talking about?"
Jesz looked back at him for a moment. "His name is Cameron Giancolli, but he likes people to call him 'The Duke,'" she explained. "We were hired by some judge to find him. Apparently he stole something of hers and she wants it back... you know, under the table-like."
"Jesz!" Mel said sternly. "We cannot trust him! And stop flirting! I do have eyes in the back of my head, do NOT make me separate you two."
Jesz blushed slightly, her tanned face darkening as she looked forward again. "Sorry…" she said. She was third in line, behind Eaups, who had been silent most of the time they were following Aryx.
The crowd was beginning to thin out as the group worked their way to the outside rim of the city. In the distance, Manfred could see several large buildings standing as sentinels over the city. One was built like a majestic fortress with its own high wall surrounding it - which Manfred believed must be the palace. Another just off to the side of the first was a single massive tower that was crooked and gnarled, seeming to defy all laws of physics and common sense by refusing to fall over. The last, placed in the center of Kell and closer than the other two, stood like a series of sword-spires that dared to strike against the heavens. Each pointed spire was identical in shape to the others and they were arranged in a 12-point circle, 6 tall spires alternating with 6 short spires. The sun reflected off the blades in a sharp rainbow across their surfaces.
"That's the Pantheological Cloister," Eaups chimed in. "Each spire is dedicated to one of the gods." He smiled, looking back at it. "I'm in that one farthest to the right from here." Manfred wished he could pause and get a better look, but Jesz pulled him along. Soon, his view was obstructed by wooden scaffolding and catwalks. It seemed this part of the city was under repair, and by the look of things, under constant repair. Some of the scaffolding had to be fixed with more scaffolding attached to it. Buildings had several different styles of architecture all crowded on top of each other. There were even some parts that had permanent "danger" signs posted, often in stone. "This is the Alchemists' District," Eaups said.
"Yeah, better known as Boom Town." Jesz chuckled to herself. "Some poor sap is always blowing hisself up around here."
"Sshh!" Mel pulled the group to a small alcove. Above them, Aryx was circling in a descending pattern. Soon, he landed on a nearby piece of scaffolding. With a motion to the others to keep out of sight, Mel peered around the corner, scanning the crowd. "That is him," she said as she spied that familiar crimson eye patch. The Duke was sitting at a table talking with another man whose back was to them. "And it looks like that idiot guard of his is not even around."
Manfred backed into Mel. "I wouldn't be so sure of that," he said in a quavering tone. Mel looked back to find the other three with their hands up, a crossbow pointed at them. The brutish bodyguard from the night before approached them.
"Move it. 'Gainst the wall." Mel put her hands up as well, doing as she was told and backing up against the wall. She glanced up for a moment, hoping to call Aryx, but the bodyguard practically shoved the crossbow in her face. "Don't e'en think it, love. I ain't stupid, I know yer a hawker. I've been followin' ya."
"Not..." Mel corrected in a quiet voice. "You should say, 'I'm not stupid.'" Grammar was a pet peeve of hers. It had taken her years to get over Jesz's abuses of the language, and she liked Jesz. Yet now, despite having a cocked crossbow at point-blank range from her nose, she still couldn't help herself when a stranger polluted her mother tongue.
"Wot was that, 'awker?" She was fairly certain he was messing up his words on purpose now.
"I am an… austringer." Mel winced and bit her lip.
"What'd you say?!" the bodyguard demanded.
"I am an austringer, not a hawker. Austringers train hawks, hawkers sell goods." Her voice had grown steady and without inflection as if she was simply reading out of a text book. Although she knew that technically the bodyguard was correct, the connotation of being a hawker irked her even more than his atrocious grammar.
"Oh, I'm gonna turn ya inna 'awk feed," the guard said with a wicked, mostly toothless grin. He raised the crossbow another inch and pulled the trigger.
Again Mel winced, but soon realized that she was still… wincing. And breathing. As she opened her eyes, she saw Manfred, holding the arrow and smiling at the well-muscled bodyguard.
"Didn't know I could do that, huh?" he taunted. "Neither did I. Wanna find out what else I can do?" The bodyguard dropped the spent crossbow and put his hands up slowly, seeing that Jesz was already pulling out a small blade. Yet before she had a chance to use it, he struck with incredible celerity at Manfred. It was simply not fair that such a huge man could move so fast, but, as Manfred was learning, life is hardly fair. He took the blow fully and was knocked back to the wall before grabbing onto the man's arm.
Jesz did not hesitate. She swung at him with a small but devilishly sharp dagger, the blade held underhand, away from the thumb. The man cried out as she sliced through the muscle in his arm, but a moment later he crossed his other arm over his body and grabbed her. Just as he was fast, he was also incredibly strong. His grip had her in tears almost instantly.
By this time, Mel was joining the fight, calling to Aryx for aid and pulling out her kukri. Eaups had already set up a spell to keep passers-by away from the fight, a long snake of smoke that surrounded the brawl. In all this commotion, however, no one noticed that The Duke was already running away.
"Oh no you don't," Manfred squeaked as he tried to breath again. He held firmly onto the bodyguard's arm and suddenly moved like a man possessed. His motions reminded Jesz of a roaring river or winding stream. Manfred deftly ducked under the man's arm, twisting it forward as he moved and forcing his assilant to hunch over. Wracked with sudden pain, the bodyguard dropped Jesz and swung wildly at Mandfred, but it was already too late. With a pull from Manfred, he felt all the bones in his arm strain against each other. In order to prevent his bones from snapping, he fell forward and rolled onto his back. His legs hit a large support of scaffolding and dislodged it, causing a catwalk to teeter to and fro precariously for several seconds before it clattered to the ground nearby. Following this, the entire scaffold leaned over, knocking off workers, parts of buildings, buckets of plaster, piles of stone and brick, and loads of lumber. Everything rained to the ground with a thunderous and continuous clatter, moving quickly down the line of buildings. Just as it seemed to stop, a lone cat would jump off one unstable support and land on the back of an unsuspecting worker who was across the street on another catwalk. The worker thrashed about, knocking over more random construction tools and detritus before he, too, hit one of the supports and sent scaffolding on his side of the street crashing to the ground. One by one, bits fell and the chaos ran down the street. The roar disappeared off into the distance as more and more dominos of industry fell.
By the time the dust settled enough for people to see what had happened, the bodyguard had fled and The Duke was half-buried under a pile of wood and rocks.
"How fortuitous," said Mel. She and Manfred approached the entombed man. "Quickly, before the Alchemists' Guild gets here," she said, pulling out a rope from the mess.
"What about the city guard?" Manfred asked as he started pulling up masonry and crossbeams to dig the dazed man out.
"Oh, trust me. They are not the ones to be worried about for this mess."
Since Kell was also a major port and the capital city of Mayford, everything imaginable could be found within its formidable walls. The very gridlock keeps some purveyors of the less "popular" goods in business. It is, after all, hard to say "no" to someone who has been pushing for you to buy a jar of "Uncle Bunk's Acne Creme, Expectorant, and Degreaser" for the past hour, knowing that you get to spend another hour in his presence.
Manfred had never seen city streets so full of life and exotic fragrances. At least, he was pretty sure he hadn't. The quartet did their best to blend in with the crowd while keeping to the actually hustling and bustling alleyways and side streets which allowed passage at a time like this. Manfred was wearing the tight-fitting black pants he had on the night before, but a blue shirt had been purchased for him to help him fit in a little better. Nothing stood out like a man dressed entirely in black.
"Just how long was I out?" he asked conversationally.
Jesz chimed in with a matter-of-fact voice, not bothering to look back fully at him but just turning her hide to the side slightly. "3 years."
"What?!" The color drained out of Manfred's face for a moment.
"Oh yeah, we thought you weren't gonna make it. I was gettin' ready to harvest your organs for magical experiments. It's good pay." There wasn't even a hint of joking in Jesz's voice.
"Oh, do not listen to her," Mel said. "That is nonsense. Everyone knows an intact cadaver is worth far more."
"Ha ha, very funny," Manfred replied. "I don't believe you. If it had been 3 years, I would have grown a beard, wouldn't I? Huh?"
"Oh, I've been shaving you clean and selling the trimmings to witches," Jesz said loudly to be heard over the din. "But don't worry, Manfred, it'll grow back."
"Stop calling me that. That's not my name!"
"Oh, then what is?" Jesz looked back and winked at him. He was silent for a moment.
"Where are we going?" he asked the group in general as they meandered and slithered through the labyrinthine crowd. He would rather change the subject then have to try to out-think her.
"I told you, we are following Aryx," Mel said from the front of the group. Her eyes were trained on the sky most of the time.
"Yeah, you told me, but where is she lea-"
"He," Mel interrupted. "Aryx is a boy."
"Fine. Where is HE leading us?" Manfred rolled his eyes. "I mean, what is this bounty you're all talking about?"
Jesz looked back at him for a moment. "His name is Cameron Giancolli, but he likes people to call him 'The Duke,'" she explained. "We were hired by some judge to find him. Apparently he stole something of hers and she wants it back... you know, under the table-like."
"Jesz!" Mel said sternly. "We cannot trust him! And stop flirting! I do have eyes in the back of my head, do NOT make me separate you two."
Jesz blushed slightly, her tanned face darkening as she looked forward again. "Sorry…" she said. She was third in line, behind Eaups, who had been silent most of the time they were following Aryx.
The crowd was beginning to thin out as the group worked their way to the outside rim of the city. In the distance, Manfred could see several large buildings standing as sentinels over the city. One was built like a majestic fortress with its own high wall surrounding it - which Manfred believed must be the palace. Another just off to the side of the first was a single massive tower that was crooked and gnarled, seeming to defy all laws of physics and common sense by refusing to fall over. The last, placed in the center of Kell and closer than the other two, stood like a series of sword-spires that dared to strike against the heavens. Each pointed spire was identical in shape to the others and they were arranged in a 12-point circle, 6 tall spires alternating with 6 short spires. The sun reflected off the blades in a sharp rainbow across their surfaces.
"That's the Pantheological Cloister," Eaups chimed in. "Each spire is dedicated to one of the gods." He smiled, looking back at it. "I'm in that one farthest to the right from here." Manfred wished he could pause and get a better look, but Jesz pulled him along. Soon, his view was obstructed by wooden scaffolding and catwalks. It seemed this part of the city was under repair, and by the look of things, under constant repair. Some of the scaffolding had to be fixed with more scaffolding attached to it. Buildings had several different styles of architecture all crowded on top of each other. There were even some parts that had permanent "danger" signs posted, often in stone. "This is the Alchemists' District," Eaups said.
"Yeah, better known as Boom Town." Jesz chuckled to herself. "Some poor sap is always blowing hisself up around here."
"Sshh!" Mel pulled the group to a small alcove. Above them, Aryx was circling in a descending pattern. Soon, he landed on a nearby piece of scaffolding. With a motion to the others to keep out of sight, Mel peered around the corner, scanning the crowd. "That is him," she said as she spied that familiar crimson eye patch. The Duke was sitting at a table talking with another man whose back was to them. "And it looks like that idiot guard of his is not even around."
Manfred backed into Mel. "I wouldn't be so sure of that," he said in a quavering tone. Mel looked back to find the other three with their hands up, a crossbow pointed at them. The brutish bodyguard from the night before approached them.
"Move it. 'Gainst the wall." Mel put her hands up as well, doing as she was told and backing up against the wall. She glanced up for a moment, hoping to call Aryx, but the bodyguard practically shoved the crossbow in her face. "Don't e'en think it, love. I ain't stupid, I know yer a hawker. I've been followin' ya."
"Not..." Mel corrected in a quiet voice. "You should say, 'I'm not stupid.'" Grammar was a pet peeve of hers. It had taken her years to get over Jesz's abuses of the language, and she liked Jesz. Yet now, despite having a cocked crossbow at point-blank range from her nose, she still couldn't help herself when a stranger polluted her mother tongue.
"Wot was that, 'awker?" She was fairly certain he was messing up his words on purpose now.
"I am an… austringer." Mel winced and bit her lip.
"What'd you say?!" the bodyguard demanded.
"I am an austringer, not a hawker. Austringers train hawks, hawkers sell goods." Her voice had grown steady and without inflection as if she was simply reading out of a text book. Although she knew that technically the bodyguard was correct, the connotation of being a hawker irked her even more than his atrocious grammar.
"Oh, I'm gonna turn ya inna 'awk feed," the guard said with a wicked, mostly toothless grin. He raised the crossbow another inch and pulled the trigger.
Again Mel winced, but soon realized that she was still… wincing. And breathing. As she opened her eyes, she saw Manfred, holding the arrow and smiling at the well-muscled bodyguard.
"Didn't know I could do that, huh?" he taunted. "Neither did I. Wanna find out what else I can do?" The bodyguard dropped the spent crossbow and put his hands up slowly, seeing that Jesz was already pulling out a small blade. Yet before she had a chance to use it, he struck with incredible celerity at Manfred. It was simply not fair that such a huge man could move so fast, but, as Manfred was learning, life is hardly fair. He took the blow fully and was knocked back to the wall before grabbing onto the man's arm.
Jesz did not hesitate. She swung at him with a small but devilishly sharp dagger, the blade held underhand, away from the thumb. The man cried out as she sliced through the muscle in his arm, but a moment later he crossed his other arm over his body and grabbed her. Just as he was fast, he was also incredibly strong. His grip had her in tears almost instantly.
By this time, Mel was joining the fight, calling to Aryx for aid and pulling out her kukri. Eaups had already set up a spell to keep passers-by away from the fight, a long snake of smoke that surrounded the brawl. In all this commotion, however, no one noticed that The Duke was already running away.
"Oh no you don't," Manfred squeaked as he tried to breath again. He held firmly onto the bodyguard's arm and suddenly moved like a man possessed. His motions reminded Jesz of a roaring river or winding stream. Manfred deftly ducked under the man's arm, twisting it forward as he moved and forcing his assilant to hunch over. Wracked with sudden pain, the bodyguard dropped Jesz and swung wildly at Mandfred, but it was already too late. With a pull from Manfred, he felt all the bones in his arm strain against each other. In order to prevent his bones from snapping, he fell forward and rolled onto his back. His legs hit a large support of scaffolding and dislodged it, causing a catwalk to teeter to and fro precariously for several seconds before it clattered to the ground nearby. Following this, the entire scaffold leaned over, knocking off workers, parts of buildings, buckets of plaster, piles of stone and brick, and loads of lumber. Everything rained to the ground with a thunderous and continuous clatter, moving quickly down the line of buildings. Just as it seemed to stop, a lone cat would jump off one unstable support and land on the back of an unsuspecting worker who was across the street on another catwalk. The worker thrashed about, knocking over more random construction tools and detritus before he, too, hit one of the supports and sent scaffolding on his side of the street crashing to the ground. One by one, bits fell and the chaos ran down the street. The roar disappeared off into the distance as more and more dominos of industry fell.
By the time the dust settled enough for people to see what had happened, the bodyguard had fled and The Duke was half-buried under a pile of wood and rocks.
"How fortuitous," said Mel. She and Manfred approached the entombed man. "Quickly, before the Alchemists' Guild gets here," she said, pulling out a rope from the mess.
"What about the city guard?" Manfred asked as he started pulling up masonry and crossbeams to dig the dazed man out.
"Oh, trust me. They are not the ones to be worried about for this mess."
Chapter 6 - Manfred
The man in black was dreaming.
From the way his limbs twitched, it was either a very pleasant dream or a very unpleasant one. Jesz squatted nearby, watching him closely with a stick in hand. To her he seemed very much like a cat - either chasing a dream-mouse or being chased by a dream-dog (or possibly running from a giant dream-mouse). She lowered the stick and poked him a few times in the side, extracting a grunt and some nonsensical mumbling from him.
"Hey... wake up!" she said and poked him in the face. The man didn't stir. She then noticed the bump on his forehead from where she hit him and a wicked grin spread over her face. "Wakey wakey!" she said as she poked the bump directly.
"Ouch! Stop that!" The man bolted upright and looked around him in a mixture of confusion and annoyance. He was sitting outside on the dirt while three strange people looked at him expectantly. "Uh... hi?"
Jesz smirked and stood up, taking a few steps away from the man as he stumbled to his feet. She was wearing a red silk shirt with long sleeves and an intricate black leather vest. A pair of knives with hilts as red as her hair could be seen at her sides, strapped into her belt.
Beside her stood Mel, tall and statuesque. She was sporting the same brown and green blouse with tight black pants as before, but now her brunette hair was in a neatly braided ponytail which reached the small of her back. Around her torso, a strap kept her quiver fast at her side. A long recurved bow was held in one hand as if it were a walking stick. Her other hand was clad in a thick leather glove and held up to support a beautiful, young hawk. Its underside was off-white with dark banding towards the legs, while the rest of the hawk was a mixture of a ruddy brown and black with white tips. Tied to one of its legs was a thin strip of green cloth that flowed in the wind. It tilted its head severely to the side as it examined the man.
On the other side of Jesz, Eaups was sitting on the tree stump, looking a little dazed and confused. On his belt was a small mace, the traditional weapon of priests, and leaning against him was a simple staff of marbled wood. He seemed content for the moment to gather his thoughts together.
"Who are you?" Mel asked pointedly. She took a stride forward, holding the hawk closer to the man. He stepped back.
"What? Oh… I told you, I don't remember!" he replied. "Who a-"
The hawk spread its wings and tightened its grip on Mel's hand, the leather creaking under its powerful talons. "Aryx does not like it when people lie," Mel said, holding the bird about a foot from him. "And he knows when you are lying." Aryx let out a piercing cry and flapped his wings at the man, the tips brushing against his face. The man couldn't help but look at the size of those dark talons.
"Really.. I don't remember," he said again, swallowing hard. His back was against the hut's door. After a few moments, Aryx folding his wings against himself and settled back on his perch, looking around with quick, darting movements.
Mel nodded, stepping back from him. "He is telling the truth," she said as she shifted her weight to one side, pondering what to do with him.
Jesz grinned as wide as a cheshire cat. "Oh? Then that means, we can name him!" She was practically jumping for joy at the prospect. "I say we call him Fred!"
"I say we call him Man," Mel the ever-practical said in sync with Jesz. Both girls raised their eyebrows and looked at each other. "Fred is so... common."
"I don't know anyone named Fred. And besides, 'Man?' Isn't that a little cold?"
"It will be harder to get attached to him if we just call him 'Man,'" Mel explained. The pair completely ignored the awkward attempts of the man in black to interrupt them. "We call Eaups 'Boy...'"
"That's different! Look, he needs a real name and-"
"Let's not argue!" Eaups interjected. "We'll just call him... Manfred for now, ok?" he said, getting off the stump slowly. He still felt a bit like a puppet.
"Manfred?! Look here, I don't know who you people are or what you want with me, but I need to get going!" Manfred said, holding up his arms in protest.
"Oh really? Going where?" Mel asked. "To the guard, who may have put that arrow in you last night? To the streets so you can warn our Mr. Giancolli? Yeah, I thought as much. You need to rest. That wound could reopen if you exert yourself." She motioned to the patch on his bare torso.
Eaups smiled, looking a little more confident. "And besides, we can't just let you go. We've been commanded to help you."
"Help me what?" Manfred asked, raising an eyebrow. "By who?"
"Um... by the god of Fate... I think he said something about a great destiny." Eaups said quietly, losing most of that conidence.
"Well, I feel fine right now," Manfred said, flexing one of his arms, "I don't know who Mr. Broccoli is, and I don't know anything about destiny. The last thing I need is a bunch of strangers telling me what I'm supposed to be doing." He tried to look indignant, but it didn't seem to be working. "...You are strangers, right?"
Jesz gave an angry frown and walked right up to Manfred, a very slight limp lingering from the night before. He was a few inches taller than she was, but that didn't stop her from pushing her nose right into his face. "We just saved your life, buddy. The least you can do is be grateful! And you were watching me changing in there," she pointed to her hut, "so that's gonna cost you. Plus there's room and board, medical supplies, grief, broken supplies from when you landed on me... All in all, I'd say you owe me... us... a thousand gold pieces."
"A THOUSAND?" Manfred replied. "Where'd you get that number? I can't pay that!"
Jesz just grinned at him as she leaned back. "You'll just have to help us catch this bounty, then. The witch paying us said he's worth at least five thousand. We can take your share out of it. Of course you'll only earn half the share, as you're new, so you'll still need to earn 500 more."
Manfred screwed his face up, pointing at each of the strangers in turn and counting silently, though his lips still moved. "That doesn't add up. There's only 4 of us."
Jesz matter-of-factly said, "No, there's 5. There's you... Mel... Eaups... me... and Aryx. The hawk." Before Manfred could complain, she walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder, leading him into the hut. "Don't worry. I know you're a thief. If you really have forgotten everything, I'm sure with a little retraining and TLC, it'll all come back to you. Especially with Jesz, Pilferer Extraordinaire, showing you the ropes! Pretty soon you'll be able to make 500 gold pieces in a night!" She grinned at him.
"I.. I am? I will?"
Jesz nodded and led him to his shirt and tools. "Of course! You just get dressed and we'll find this bounty together, as a team. We could use a strong, handsome guy like you," she said with a wink, having apparently completely forgiven him of his peeping. "Now hurry up!"
From the way his limbs twitched, it was either a very pleasant dream or a very unpleasant one. Jesz squatted nearby, watching him closely with a stick in hand. To her he seemed very much like a cat - either chasing a dream-mouse or being chased by a dream-dog (or possibly running from a giant dream-mouse). She lowered the stick and poked him a few times in the side, extracting a grunt and some nonsensical mumbling from him.
"Hey... wake up!" she said and poked him in the face. The man didn't stir. She then noticed the bump on his forehead from where she hit him and a wicked grin spread over her face. "Wakey wakey!" she said as she poked the bump directly.
"Ouch! Stop that!" The man bolted upright and looked around him in a mixture of confusion and annoyance. He was sitting outside on the dirt while three strange people looked at him expectantly. "Uh... hi?"
Jesz smirked and stood up, taking a few steps away from the man as he stumbled to his feet. She was wearing a red silk shirt with long sleeves and an intricate black leather vest. A pair of knives with hilts as red as her hair could be seen at her sides, strapped into her belt.
Beside her stood Mel, tall and statuesque. She was sporting the same brown and green blouse with tight black pants as before, but now her brunette hair was in a neatly braided ponytail which reached the small of her back. Around her torso, a strap kept her quiver fast at her side. A long recurved bow was held in one hand as if it were a walking stick. Her other hand was clad in a thick leather glove and held up to support a beautiful, young hawk. Its underside was off-white with dark banding towards the legs, while the rest of the hawk was a mixture of a ruddy brown and black with white tips. Tied to one of its legs was a thin strip of green cloth that flowed in the wind. It tilted its head severely to the side as it examined the man.
On the other side of Jesz, Eaups was sitting on the tree stump, looking a little dazed and confused. On his belt was a small mace, the traditional weapon of priests, and leaning against him was a simple staff of marbled wood. He seemed content for the moment to gather his thoughts together.
"Who are you?" Mel asked pointedly. She took a stride forward, holding the hawk closer to the man. He stepped back.
"What? Oh… I told you, I don't remember!" he replied. "Who a-"
The hawk spread its wings and tightened its grip on Mel's hand, the leather creaking under its powerful talons. "Aryx does not like it when people lie," Mel said, holding the bird about a foot from him. "And he knows when you are lying." Aryx let out a piercing cry and flapped his wings at the man, the tips brushing against his face. The man couldn't help but look at the size of those dark talons.
"Really.. I don't remember," he said again, swallowing hard. His back was against the hut's door. After a few moments, Aryx folding his wings against himself and settled back on his perch, looking around with quick, darting movements.
Mel nodded, stepping back from him. "He is telling the truth," she said as she shifted her weight to one side, pondering what to do with him.
Jesz grinned as wide as a cheshire cat. "Oh? Then that means, we can name him!" She was practically jumping for joy at the prospect. "I say we call him Fred!"
"I say we call him Man," Mel the ever-practical said in sync with Jesz. Both girls raised their eyebrows and looked at each other. "Fred is so... common."
"I don't know anyone named Fred. And besides, 'Man?' Isn't that a little cold?"
"It will be harder to get attached to him if we just call him 'Man,'" Mel explained. The pair completely ignored the awkward attempts of the man in black to interrupt them. "We call Eaups 'Boy...'"
"That's different! Look, he needs a real name and-"
"Let's not argue!" Eaups interjected. "We'll just call him... Manfred for now, ok?" he said, getting off the stump slowly. He still felt a bit like a puppet.
"Manfred?! Look here, I don't know who you people are or what you want with me, but I need to get going!" Manfred said, holding up his arms in protest.
"Oh really? Going where?" Mel asked. "To the guard, who may have put that arrow in you last night? To the streets so you can warn our Mr. Giancolli? Yeah, I thought as much. You need to rest. That wound could reopen if you exert yourself." She motioned to the patch on his bare torso.
Eaups smiled, looking a little more confident. "And besides, we can't just let you go. We've been commanded to help you."
"Help me what?" Manfred asked, raising an eyebrow. "By who?"
"Um... by the god of Fate... I think he said something about a great destiny." Eaups said quietly, losing most of that conidence.
"Well, I feel fine right now," Manfred said, flexing one of his arms, "I don't know who Mr. Broccoli is, and I don't know anything about destiny. The last thing I need is a bunch of strangers telling me what I'm supposed to be doing." He tried to look indignant, but it didn't seem to be working. "...You are strangers, right?"
Jesz gave an angry frown and walked right up to Manfred, a very slight limp lingering from the night before. He was a few inches taller than she was, but that didn't stop her from pushing her nose right into his face. "We just saved your life, buddy. The least you can do is be grateful! And you were watching me changing in there," she pointed to her hut, "so that's gonna cost you. Plus there's room and board, medical supplies, grief, broken supplies from when you landed on me... All in all, I'd say you owe me... us... a thousand gold pieces."
"A THOUSAND?" Manfred replied. "Where'd you get that number? I can't pay that!"
Jesz just grinned at him as she leaned back. "You'll just have to help us catch this bounty, then. The witch paying us said he's worth at least five thousand. We can take your share out of it. Of course you'll only earn half the share, as you're new, so you'll still need to earn 500 more."
Manfred screwed his face up, pointing at each of the strangers in turn and counting silently, though his lips still moved. "That doesn't add up. There's only 4 of us."
Jesz matter-of-factly said, "No, there's 5. There's you... Mel... Eaups... me... and Aryx. The hawk." Before Manfred could complain, she walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder, leading him into the hut. "Don't worry. I know you're a thief. If you really have forgotten everything, I'm sure with a little retraining and TLC, it'll all come back to you. Especially with Jesz, Pilferer Extraordinaire, showing you the ropes! Pretty soon you'll be able to make 500 gold pieces in a night!" She grinned at him.
"I.. I am? I will?"
Jesz nodded and led him to his shirt and tools. "Of course! You just get dressed and we'll find this bounty together, as a team. We could use a strong, handsome guy like you," she said with a wink, having apparently completely forgiven him of his peeping. "Now hurry up!"
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Chapter 5 - Just Dropping In
It took Mel several seconds to get to her feet and discover that the man was awake and sitting upright. She stood in the doorway, pulling out a sword from some hidden sheath. The blade was short and bent forward in the middle with the single-edge along the inside - a weapon Mel called a Kukri, though everyone else just called it broken.
"Keep back!" she yelled as she entered an offensive stance, her weight leaning forward as if ready to charge the man.
He had shifted to sit on the side of the bed, his hand holding his head. His face was contorted in pain, giving the distinct impression of a man with a hangover. "What?" he asked, squinting up at the figure in the bright doorway. A moment later, he staggered to his feet.
Mel took a few steps back as the man approached. "Who are you?" she asked, keeping her blade in front of her as she backed away from the door. Soon the man was standing in the doorway instead, wincing in the sunlight. Jesz had fallen to the ground, still clutching her shirt to her chest and staring at him in dread. Next to her, sitting on the tree stump, Eaups had fallen asleep, his head hung in front of him.
"Who am I?" the man asked, lowering his hand and looking over the three of them through half-closed eyes. "Who are you?"
Mel glanced over at her comrades briefly in confusion before looking back at him. "I- I asked you first!" she said. Jesz scrambled to her feet once more, her face still flushed in embarrassment as she used Mel as a shield.
"You did? Oh... well I'm... uh...." There was more than a hint of worry in his expression. "I don't know."
Mel's voice had a sharp tone of suspicion to it. "I do not believe you. How do we know you are not just trying to dupe us into trusting you or letting you go? If the royal guards come looking for you, it would be best if we... just..."
What had distracted Mel was the sight of Jesz walking right past her and up to the man in a huff, still holding her shirt up with one arm. Without a word, she pulled her free arm back and clocked him squarely in the face. The man didn't even try to evade it, but instead fell over as if she were a lumberjack and he a mighty Scotch Pine. After the punch, she stood over him, red with anger. "How dare you oggle me when I'm vulnerable like that! I was saving myself!" Mel had to pull her away to stop the verbal and physical assault.
"QUIT IT" rang a voice from behind them, familiar yet foreign. With one accord, both Jesz and Mel turned around. Standing before them was Eaups, his eyes radiating a divine purple light and his hair suddenly long and wild. He looked over himself, inspecting his clothing and body. "UGH, what a terrible outfit. At least there's some purple in it. And this body, goodness. Ouch, or whatever his name is, should really start working out."
"Eaups?" Mel asked, wondering what was wrong with her friend. He'd never done THIS before.
"Yeah, that's the name." He sauntered closer to them in a suave, confident manner; it was very unlike Eaups. Although he had no pupils, they got the distinct impression that he was looking over the two of them carefully. "So you must be his companions. Interesting choice, but I think it'll work." He grinned and brushed a lock of his hair out of his face in a move that could launch a thousand swoons.
"Y-you are not Eaups," Mel stated. She was blushing but did not even realize it.
"Of course I'm not," not-Eaups said. "Didn't he tell you? He's my Avatar. I'm Murphy." He got blank stares from the two girls and a leg-twitch from the unconscious man. "THE Murhpy. God of fate, destiny, and all that jazz?" Blank stares. Murphy sighed. "Fine, I'll get right to the point." He straightened himself up and spoke in a distinctly divine voice.
"DO NOT HURT THIS MAN. HIS DESTINY IS GREAT AND INTERTWINED WITH YOUR OWN. YOU MUST HELP HIM ACHIEVE HIS FATE OR ELSE THE WORLD WILL BE FORFEIT."
Murphy then winked at Jesz. "Nice outfit, by the way," he said, then summarily collapsed on the ground, a rag doll being dropped. Jesz looked down at her outfit only to find that she had dropped her shirt. In a panic, she screamed, collected her shirt, and ran back inside, pushing the man outside with the others as she slammed the door.
"Keep back!" she yelled as she entered an offensive stance, her weight leaning forward as if ready to charge the man.
He had shifted to sit on the side of the bed, his hand holding his head. His face was contorted in pain, giving the distinct impression of a man with a hangover. "What?" he asked, squinting up at the figure in the bright doorway. A moment later, he staggered to his feet.
Mel took a few steps back as the man approached. "Who are you?" she asked, keeping her blade in front of her as she backed away from the door. Soon the man was standing in the doorway instead, wincing in the sunlight. Jesz had fallen to the ground, still clutching her shirt to her chest and staring at him in dread. Next to her, sitting on the tree stump, Eaups had fallen asleep, his head hung in front of him.
"Who am I?" the man asked, lowering his hand and looking over the three of them through half-closed eyes. "Who are you?"
Mel glanced over at her comrades briefly in confusion before looking back at him. "I- I asked you first!" she said. Jesz scrambled to her feet once more, her face still flushed in embarrassment as she used Mel as a shield.
"You did? Oh... well I'm... uh...." There was more than a hint of worry in his expression. "I don't know."
Mel's voice had a sharp tone of suspicion to it. "I do not believe you. How do we know you are not just trying to dupe us into trusting you or letting you go? If the royal guards come looking for you, it would be best if we... just..."
What had distracted Mel was the sight of Jesz walking right past her and up to the man in a huff, still holding her shirt up with one arm. Without a word, she pulled her free arm back and clocked him squarely in the face. The man didn't even try to evade it, but instead fell over as if she were a lumberjack and he a mighty Scotch Pine. After the punch, she stood over him, red with anger. "How dare you oggle me when I'm vulnerable like that! I was saving myself!" Mel had to pull her away to stop the verbal and physical assault.
"QUIT IT" rang a voice from behind them, familiar yet foreign. With one accord, both Jesz and Mel turned around. Standing before them was Eaups, his eyes radiating a divine purple light and his hair suddenly long and wild. He looked over himself, inspecting his clothing and body. "UGH, what a terrible outfit. At least there's some purple in it. And this body, goodness. Ouch, or whatever his name is, should really start working out."
"Eaups?" Mel asked, wondering what was wrong with her friend. He'd never done THIS before.
"Yeah, that's the name." He sauntered closer to them in a suave, confident manner; it was very unlike Eaups. Although he had no pupils, they got the distinct impression that he was looking over the two of them carefully. "So you must be his companions. Interesting choice, but I think it'll work." He grinned and brushed a lock of his hair out of his face in a move that could launch a thousand swoons.
"Y-you are not Eaups," Mel stated. She was blushing but did not even realize it.
"Of course I'm not," not-Eaups said. "Didn't he tell you? He's my Avatar. I'm Murphy." He got blank stares from the two girls and a leg-twitch from the unconscious man. "THE Murhpy. God of fate, destiny, and all that jazz?" Blank stares. Murphy sighed. "Fine, I'll get right to the point." He straightened himself up and spoke in a distinctly divine voice.
"DO NOT HURT THIS MAN. HIS DESTINY IS GREAT AND INTERTWINED WITH YOUR OWN. YOU MUST HELP HIM ACHIEVE HIS FATE OR ELSE THE WORLD WILL BE FORFEIT."
Murphy then winked at Jesz. "Nice outfit, by the way," he said, then summarily collapsed on the ground, a rag doll being dropped. Jesz looked down at her outfit only to find that she had dropped her shirt. In a panic, she screamed, collected her shirt, and ran back inside, pushing the man outside with the others as she slammed the door.
Chapter 4 - Morning Glory
Morning did eventually arrive, its cheery, cool light cascading through the trees and the open window of Jesz's hut. The bakers and farmers welcomed their friend the sun, the harbinger of the end of the bitter, dark pre-dawn, but to Jesz it was an unwanted guest, like a mother-in-law. It just let itself in uninvited, traipsed about the place complaining about the draperies, and then did all it could to try to maker her feel bad for "sleeping in." And this morning, it seemed Jesz had only slept for about 37 seconds before it broke into her hut and made off with her last hope of getting any rest. Jesz was really quite glad that she didn't have a real mother-in-law, or else she might not have even had that much.
All night (or at least for 37 seconds), Jesz had been dreaming that when she awoke, the young man would be up, wearing nothing but an apron and making her breakfast: sausages, eggs over medium (with all the crispy leftover bits sprinkled on top), and thick slices of ham all on toast and covered in cheese that smelled like decaying feet. Just the way she loved it. She also dreamed that she was in her own bed, that he was incredibly handsome and intelligent, and that as he leaned in to say "Good morning," his voice was husky and sonorous at the same time.
The truth was not so kind. Jesz awoke clutching a small bag of money, wearing a thin off-white shirt, with her legs splayed out haphazardly. Her hair had matted itself and now sported a variety of knots that would make any sailor jealous. The foot that hurt last night was only mildly sore now, though the rest of her body was sore as well. Red-rimmed eyes scanned the room as she sat up. There was no breakfast. There was no stinky cheese. She was still on the floor. The man was still unconscious, though in the daylight, he didn't look half-bad. She heaved a heavy sigh and got up, yawning profusely as she got dressed and started to go about her day.
"Good morning, Jesz," said a melodious voice the instant she stepped outside. The voice belonged to Mel, who was leaning against a tree stump. She looked well-rested and, as always, serious. She was clad in a brownish-green blouse with tight black pants, her brunette hair tied in a neat ponytail behind her. It was her typical "working" outfit, though Jesz always wondered why she often wore it when they were not on the job. Mel had the figure that most women torture themselves mentally and physically to achieve. She was fit, well-endowed (but not overly so), possessed gorgeous, long, flowing hair, and she was tall. Jesz, on the other hand, had always had a slight build, sported choppy, knotted hair, was short, and was significantly less gifted in the bust department. Usually this made her jealous of Mel, but at the moment, she was far too tired to care.
Beside Mel, Eaups was yawning and hunched over some while sitting on a barrel. Jesz found that chairs were expensive, but a simple crack in an otherwise perfectly fine barrel made it suddenly very cheap. Eaups waved at her while rubbing at the bags under his eyes. "Mo-yawn-orning, Jesz…" he said. White robes with light blue trim and just a splash of violet (for flare, as Murphy always put it) let the world know that Eaups was of the religious order under the god of Fate, and his small conical hat told everyone that he was a last-year student. This, too, was his traveling gear, which made Jesz wonder if she had forgotten some important event.
"Um… Morning?" he said, then stifled another yawn. Jesz did not so much mean this as a greeting, but more an inquiry. Morning was to Jesz what Bigfoot and helpful lawyers are to most people - something you hear about, but never actually meet.
"How is the patient?" Mel asked. Jesz raised her eyebrow up at her.
"How are you so… awake?" she whined. "You couldn't have gotten much more sleep than I did!"
Mel crossed her arms under her bust, as if subconsciously taunting Jesz. "Some of us have access to coffee."
Jesz grunted and rolled her eyes. "He's still sleeping, like I should be."
"Good, he made it through the night." Mel smiled softly, looking relieved. The truth was, she'd never had to remove an arrow from someone before, and was proud that he didn't die right away. "I will have to look in on him soon. But first, are you ready to go?"
Jesz, still wearing the thin white shirt and cat-print underwear, looked down at herself. "Go whe-" she started to ask before her cheeks flushed a bright red and she scrambled behind the door of her hut. "No, I'm not ready… You! Boy! Turn around!"
Eaups had honestly been too tired to see what she had been wearing, or not wearing as the case was. Instead, he obediently turned around, still yawning. "I didn see…" yawn, "nothing." Once he was turned around, Jesz scrambled back indoors and shut the door hard.
"We are going to find our one-eyed friend, Mr Giancolli," Mel said through the door. Aryx was able to pick up his trail this morning, so it should not be too hard to get him by surprise, but we need to be ready just in case." Mel usually hated these rushed missions with little planning; they led to more injuries and failures. But she knew that sometimes one had to take action or miss an opportunity. "Besides, I bet he is half asleep right now."
"He isn't the only one…" Jesz muttered to herself as she started to get undressed and pull out her own adventuring clothes from the chest at the foot of her bed. They consisted of tight, brown, leather pants, a long-sleeved, crimson, silk shirt, and a pocketed leather vest. Along with these, she always carried a few other accessories that weren't meant to be seen. "What about this guy? What if he wakes up while we're gone? I don't want him snooping around my house."
Mel leaned her back against the door, arms crossed. "I seriously doubt he will be up anytime soon. But…" Her voice trailed off as she looked up at the sky in thought. "Maybe we should take precautions. We could tie him up. I doubt we can really trust him. He was armed, and I think he might be from Drysen, not Mayford."
"So?" Jesz asked as she folded her white shirt and pajama bottoms.
"So… maybe he is not a thief."
"Nonesense," Jesz replied with a sputter. "I know a fellow thief when I see one. Those tools are for picking locks and hiding loot."
"Well if he's a thief, maybe we shouldn't leave him in here…" Eaups said in a brief moment of clarity.
Mel smirked, lowering her gaze again. "As if she has anything here that is worth stealing."
"What do you mean!? I've got that…"
"That what?" Mel asked, turning her head toward the door. "Jesz?"
The scream that followed was high enough to make dogs whimper and loud enough to wake the dead, and Eaups. Before either of them could rush into the room, Jesz opened the door and ran outside, knocking Mel over. She had on her pants, but was holding her crimson shirt up to her to hide her shame while pointing with her free hand at the man in black. He was sitting upright in the bed, eyes open, with a smile on his face.
All night (or at least for 37 seconds), Jesz had been dreaming that when she awoke, the young man would be up, wearing nothing but an apron and making her breakfast: sausages, eggs over medium (with all the crispy leftover bits sprinkled on top), and thick slices of ham all on toast and covered in cheese that smelled like decaying feet. Just the way she loved it. She also dreamed that she was in her own bed, that he was incredibly handsome and intelligent, and that as he leaned in to say "Good morning," his voice was husky and sonorous at the same time.
The truth was not so kind. Jesz awoke clutching a small bag of money, wearing a thin off-white shirt, with her legs splayed out haphazardly. Her hair had matted itself and now sported a variety of knots that would make any sailor jealous. The foot that hurt last night was only mildly sore now, though the rest of her body was sore as well. Red-rimmed eyes scanned the room as she sat up. There was no breakfast. There was no stinky cheese. She was still on the floor. The man was still unconscious, though in the daylight, he didn't look half-bad. She heaved a heavy sigh and got up, yawning profusely as she got dressed and started to go about her day.
"Good morning, Jesz," said a melodious voice the instant she stepped outside. The voice belonged to Mel, who was leaning against a tree stump. She looked well-rested and, as always, serious. She was clad in a brownish-green blouse with tight black pants, her brunette hair tied in a neat ponytail behind her. It was her typical "working" outfit, though Jesz always wondered why she often wore it when they were not on the job. Mel had the figure that most women torture themselves mentally and physically to achieve. She was fit, well-endowed (but not overly so), possessed gorgeous, long, flowing hair, and she was tall. Jesz, on the other hand, had always had a slight build, sported choppy, knotted hair, was short, and was significantly less gifted in the bust department. Usually this made her jealous of Mel, but at the moment, she was far too tired to care.
Beside Mel, Eaups was yawning and hunched over some while sitting on a barrel. Jesz found that chairs were expensive, but a simple crack in an otherwise perfectly fine barrel made it suddenly very cheap. Eaups waved at her while rubbing at the bags under his eyes. "Mo-yawn-orning, Jesz…" he said. White robes with light blue trim and just a splash of violet (for flare, as Murphy always put it) let the world know that Eaups was of the religious order under the god of Fate, and his small conical hat told everyone that he was a last-year student. This, too, was his traveling gear, which made Jesz wonder if she had forgotten some important event.
"Um… Morning?" he said, then stifled another yawn. Jesz did not so much mean this as a greeting, but more an inquiry. Morning was to Jesz what Bigfoot and helpful lawyers are to most people - something you hear about, but never actually meet.
"How is the patient?" Mel asked. Jesz raised her eyebrow up at her.
"How are you so… awake?" she whined. "You couldn't have gotten much more sleep than I did!"
Mel crossed her arms under her bust, as if subconsciously taunting Jesz. "Some of us have access to coffee."
Jesz grunted and rolled her eyes. "He's still sleeping, like I should be."
"Good, he made it through the night." Mel smiled softly, looking relieved. The truth was, she'd never had to remove an arrow from someone before, and was proud that he didn't die right away. "I will have to look in on him soon. But first, are you ready to go?"
Jesz, still wearing the thin white shirt and cat-print underwear, looked down at herself. "Go whe-" she started to ask before her cheeks flushed a bright red and she scrambled behind the door of her hut. "No, I'm not ready… You! Boy! Turn around!"
Eaups had honestly been too tired to see what she had been wearing, or not wearing as the case was. Instead, he obediently turned around, still yawning. "I didn see…" yawn, "nothing." Once he was turned around, Jesz scrambled back indoors and shut the door hard.
"We are going to find our one-eyed friend, Mr Giancolli," Mel said through the door. Aryx was able to pick up his trail this morning, so it should not be too hard to get him by surprise, but we need to be ready just in case." Mel usually hated these rushed missions with little planning; they led to more injuries and failures. But she knew that sometimes one had to take action or miss an opportunity. "Besides, I bet he is half asleep right now."
"He isn't the only one…" Jesz muttered to herself as she started to get undressed and pull out her own adventuring clothes from the chest at the foot of her bed. They consisted of tight, brown, leather pants, a long-sleeved, crimson, silk shirt, and a pocketed leather vest. Along with these, she always carried a few other accessories that weren't meant to be seen. "What about this guy? What if he wakes up while we're gone? I don't want him snooping around my house."
Mel leaned her back against the door, arms crossed. "I seriously doubt he will be up anytime soon. But…" Her voice trailed off as she looked up at the sky in thought. "Maybe we should take precautions. We could tie him up. I doubt we can really trust him. He was armed, and I think he might be from Drysen, not Mayford."
"So?" Jesz asked as she folded her white shirt and pajama bottoms.
"So… maybe he is not a thief."
"Nonesense," Jesz replied with a sputter. "I know a fellow thief when I see one. Those tools are for picking locks and hiding loot."
"Well if he's a thief, maybe we shouldn't leave him in here…" Eaups said in a brief moment of clarity.
Mel smirked, lowering her gaze again. "As if she has anything here that is worth stealing."
"What do you mean!? I've got that…"
"That what?" Mel asked, turning her head toward the door. "Jesz?"
The scream that followed was high enough to make dogs whimper and loud enough to wake the dead, and Eaups. Before either of them could rush into the room, Jesz opened the door and ran outside, knocking Mel over. She had on her pants, but was holding her crimson shirt up to her to hide her shame while pointing with her free hand at the man in black. He was sitting upright in the bed, eyes open, with a smile on his face.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Chapter 3 - Sleep
The operation went well into the night. By the time Mel had finished, the particularly enthusiastic bakers and farmers were already waking. Eaups had helped take care of the man's accoutrements before heading back to the Cloister's dorms, folding the deep black shirt and putting it on the small bedside table. It was so dull and black that it seemed to swallow all light that touched it, making it difficult to actually see the folds in the fabric. On top of it sat a leather harness with a variety of unusual pouches, pockets, and sheaths, all holding a variety of weapons and tools that Eaups had never seen before.
Mel left to a series of complaints from Jesz.
"Does he have to stay in MY bed?" she whined. Jesz had often dreamed of having a strong, handsome young man in her bed. This, however, was NOT the situation she had imagined.
"Yes, you need to leave him there," Mel explained. "Do not move him!"
"But... but... but... it's MY bed! And he's getting blood all over it! A-and germs! Man germs!"
Mel, who had been wiping her hands off, turned to Jesz and said, "Do not even THINK about moving him. He has lost a lot of blood and any movement might reopen his wound. If he wakes up, make him stay in bed."
"But Me-e-e-el!" Jesz said, bouncing in place and holding onto Mel's arm. Mel just stared at her intently, the stern look telling Jesz more than words ever could. With a loud sigh, Jesz let go of her and nodded. "Fine..."
Mel gave a sigh as well, leaning over and giving Jesz a hug. "It will be alright. It is just for a few nights. But when he does wake up, you be careful. I do not trust him." She gave the sleeping man a glance from over Jesz's shoulder, then straightened her posture and picked up her bow and quiver. "Get some sleep," she said over her shoulder as she walked out the door, leaving Jesz alone with a strange man in her home.
The rest of that night was not kind to Jesz. She had set up a few blankets on the floor as a make-shift bed for herself. Sleeping on the floor was no problem for Jesz; she had slept on floors most of her life. In fact, she had only purchased that bed a few months before with hard-earned money, most of it earned by other people. This night, however, her back was hurting and her mind was racing, still upset over the botched mission.
The first thing she tried to do to get to sleep was to hum a familiar, soothing tune, something she had kept with her since she was a child. It didn't take long for the song to get stuck in her head.
Then she tried counting sheep, but counting always made her think of coins. Each time an imaginary sheep landed it was to the chorus of jingling money, which made it even harder to sleep.
She had heard that doing math problems would help her fall asleep, but the only math she knew involved the small coins that were still jingling.
Eventually the mental distractions passed and she started to doze, until a shaft of light from the window hit her perfectly on the eye. The moon had been reflecting off a blade on the bedside table. Now her mind was racing again, this time with thoughts of who the man was and what would happen when he woke.
Mel left to a series of complaints from Jesz.
"Does he have to stay in MY bed?" she whined. Jesz had often dreamed of having a strong, handsome young man in her bed. This, however, was NOT the situation she had imagined.
"Yes, you need to leave him there," Mel explained. "Do not move him!"
"But... but... but... it's MY bed! And he's getting blood all over it! A-and germs! Man germs!"
Mel, who had been wiping her hands off, turned to Jesz and said, "Do not even THINK about moving him. He has lost a lot of blood and any movement might reopen his wound. If he wakes up, make him stay in bed."
"But Me-e-e-el!" Jesz said, bouncing in place and holding onto Mel's arm. Mel just stared at her intently, the stern look telling Jesz more than words ever could. With a loud sigh, Jesz let go of her and nodded. "Fine..."
Mel gave a sigh as well, leaning over and giving Jesz a hug. "It will be alright. It is just for a few nights. But when he does wake up, you be careful. I do not trust him." She gave the sleeping man a glance from over Jesz's shoulder, then straightened her posture and picked up her bow and quiver. "Get some sleep," she said over her shoulder as she walked out the door, leaving Jesz alone with a strange man in her home.
The rest of that night was not kind to Jesz. She had set up a few blankets on the floor as a make-shift bed for herself. Sleeping on the floor was no problem for Jesz; she had slept on floors most of her life. In fact, she had only purchased that bed a few months before with hard-earned money, most of it earned by other people. This night, however, her back was hurting and her mind was racing, still upset over the botched mission.
The first thing she tried to do to get to sleep was to hum a familiar, soothing tune, something she had kept with her since she was a child. It didn't take long for the song to get stuck in her head.
Then she tried counting sheep, but counting always made her think of coins. Each time an imaginary sheep landed it was to the chorus of jingling money, which made it even harder to sleep.
She had heard that doing math problems would help her fall asleep, but the only math she knew involved the small coins that were still jingling.
Eventually the mental distractions passed and she started to doze, until a shaft of light from the window hit her perfectly on the eye. The moon had been reflecting off a blade on the bedside table. Now her mind was racing again, this time with thoughts of who the man was and what would happen when he woke.
Chapter 2 - A Feeling
Jesz was fuming. Not only did they lose the bounty AND break an expensive urn, but now her foot was in pain and she couldn't even take it out on the guy who did it. As she paced around her small, cluttered bedroom, Eaups could hear her muttering to herself. He sat in a creaky wooden chair that threatened to turn itself into a pile of kindling at any moment. On the bed across the room from him was the young man dressed in black, still unconscious. The arrow remained protruding from his side and the shirt around it was damp with blood, though it didn't show up on the dark fabric.
"32 silver pieces for that -ouch!- darn Urn.... where is Mel? She mmmf! better have got him.... planned this for 2 ow weeks.... another 7 pieces for that cart... what a -OW- waste... 100 gold pieces...." Eaups just watched her pace back and forth between him and the unconscious man. Every time she stepped on her injured foot, she'd wince or cry out in pain, but that wouldn't stop her.
"Ummm... actually, I rented the ca-" he started to say, but stopped short when Jesz turned to him and give him a stare that would make the pigment in paint run away. Eaups put his hands between his legs and lowered his head. He was relatively young, no more than 18, and naivete exuded from his pores. His normally immaculate, white, priestly robes and well-combed blond hair were covered in dirt, smeared with blood, and smelled like the inside of that old urn, yet he was still able to look so innocent and pitiful that Jesz's glare soon softened and she felt this sudden urge to cuddle him. Unfortunately, he was unable to leave well-enough alone and perked his head up again. "Maybe he's rich..." he offered in an attempt to bring up her spirits. If there was anything that would make Jesz happy, it was the promise of money.
"He is NOT rich," Jesz stated firmly, pointing at the man. She was no longer wearing the burlap sack that she thought looked like clothing. Instead, she was sporting a leather and cloth outfit that hugged her slight form. A red-hilted knife stuck out from a sheath at her side, matching the hue of her shoulder-length hair. In her rage, however, she'd forgotten to remove the false nose, making it very difficult for Eaups to keep a straight face when he looked at her. He kept looking down at his lap in an effort to prevent himself from cracking up.
"Just look at how he's dressed!" she explained, hobbling over to the man and picking roughly at his clothes. Every time she did, the man would cringe as if in pain. "He's all in black, he was carrying a lock-picking kit and a knife, and he fell OFF A ROOF! He's obviously a cat burglar. A pilferer. A burglar. A THIEF! Thieves don't have money, take it from me!"
Eaups stifled a laugh as her nose bobbed in the air, then turned the chuckle into a cough and sighed loudly, lowering his gaze again and wringing his hands in his lap. "M-maybe he's a good thief..." he suggested. Before Jesz could reply, there was a knock at the door. Then two knocks. Then three.
"It's Mel. Finally," Jesz said, limping over to the door of her small hut to open it. Mel stood there, her expensive robes torn along the edges and covered in dirt. There was an ornate archery bow hanging around her body. Although she looked pissed at first, as soon as she saw Jesz's nose sticking out of the doorway, her face contorted in a muffled giggle.
After a moment, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, stepping inside. Her long, brown hair flowed behind her and brushed over Jesz. Mel was much taller and more shapely than Jesz; even her hair couldn't resist the chance to make her jealous. "The bounty got away," Mel said. "I lost him in the merchant district and it is too dark for Aryx."
Jesz glowered as she shut the door. "I knew it! This is just not my OW day..." she grumbled as she followed Mel back to the bedroom - one of only two rooms in the hut. She looked over at Eaups and shot a pointed finger at him. "You! This is all your fault! You said we had your god's blessing!"
Guilt creeped over Eaups' features. "We did... we do... that's the problem with Murphy. We might have his blessing, but we don't know what it's for."
Jesz scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. "I doubt he's even real." This was a slap in the face to Eaups.
"He IS real! I've seen him!" the youth shouted, jumping to his feet and putting his nose against Jesz' in a rare display of emotion.
"Guys, quit it," Mel said as she looked at the man on the bed.
"Maybe you're just seeing things, huh? It's all that incense in the air over there in that temple," Jesz retorted, pushing her nose harder against his.
"Guys!"
"Well at least I have faith in something! You can only believe in what you can steal!"
"GUYS!" Mel, shouted, looking back at the bickering pair.
"WHAT?" they both shouted back in unison.
Beyond Mel, the man lay in the bed, eyes open, looking at them as they fought. He raised a hand, pointing to Jesz, and said in a very quiet, weak voice, "Nose." With a smile, he lowered his hand and closed his eyes, falling asleep again.
Jesz's face turned beet-red and she roughly pulled off the bulbous nose. "S-seriously? He wakes up for that? Look, he can't stay here..."
"It was your idea to bring him with us," Mel said. "Besides, Eaups is in a dorm, and there is no way my parents would let me keep a strange man in the house. Face it, you are stuck with him until he recovers." Some of the color faded from Jesz's cheeks as she realized this was true.
"What do you suppose happened to him?" Eaups asked.
Mel walked over to the bed and gingerly took hold of the arrow still stuck in him. She ripped open a small hole in his shirt to look at the wound, then let her fingers drift along the shaft of the arrow to the colorful feathers. "This looks... familiar..." she said to herself.
Jesz, meanwhile, was watching the stranger's face as it periodically contorted in pain. "I guess he tried to rob the wrong house," she said softly without looking away.
"Not just any house," Mel replied, her face blanching. "The palace. This fletching is from the royal guards. I knew it looked familiar. See this banding in blue and white? The grey lines through it? It is dyed peregrine feathers. There is no doubt about it. If he was at the palace, we may all be in trouble for keeping him here at all."
Eaups frowned and moved closer. "I think maybe he was fated to run into us. I think we are supposed to take care of him," he said.
"How do you know?" asked Mel.
"I don't know, it's just.. a feeling. It's the same feeling I got when I met you two. Look, no one will know he's here. We can keep our eyes open for any alert on him, and if we don't hear anything, then I think we'll be ok." He smiled softly at Mel, then over to Jesz, hoping to sway one of them. "Plus, if he's a thief, maybe you can... do thiefly things with him."
After a moment, Jesz took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Fine... if someone comes knocking on the door, I'll take the blame. But if he or anyone else kills me in the night, I'm coming back to haunt you, Eaups."
Mel nodded in agreement. "Alright, he will stay here for now. I will heal and bind him tonight, and check on him tomorrow. If he does anything funny, I can put this arrow right back in him, you know." She gave Eaups a wicked little smirk before looking back at the man's wound. "Alright, we can do this. Jesz, get me some clean water if you can. Warm preferably. Eaups, I need some clean rags."
"32 silver pieces for that -ouch!- darn Urn.... where is Mel? She mmmf! better have got him.... planned this for 2 ow weeks.... another 7 pieces for that cart... what a -OW- waste... 100 gold pieces...." Eaups just watched her pace back and forth between him and the unconscious man. Every time she stepped on her injured foot, she'd wince or cry out in pain, but that wouldn't stop her.
"Ummm... actually, I rented the ca-" he started to say, but stopped short when Jesz turned to him and give him a stare that would make the pigment in paint run away. Eaups put his hands between his legs and lowered his head. He was relatively young, no more than 18, and naivete exuded from his pores. His normally immaculate, white, priestly robes and well-combed blond hair were covered in dirt, smeared with blood, and smelled like the inside of that old urn, yet he was still able to look so innocent and pitiful that Jesz's glare soon softened and she felt this sudden urge to cuddle him. Unfortunately, he was unable to leave well-enough alone and perked his head up again. "Maybe he's rich..." he offered in an attempt to bring up her spirits. If there was anything that would make Jesz happy, it was the promise of money.
"He is NOT rich," Jesz stated firmly, pointing at the man. She was no longer wearing the burlap sack that she thought looked like clothing. Instead, she was sporting a leather and cloth outfit that hugged her slight form. A red-hilted knife stuck out from a sheath at her side, matching the hue of her shoulder-length hair. In her rage, however, she'd forgotten to remove the false nose, making it very difficult for Eaups to keep a straight face when he looked at her. He kept looking down at his lap in an effort to prevent himself from cracking up.
"Just look at how he's dressed!" she explained, hobbling over to the man and picking roughly at his clothes. Every time she did, the man would cringe as if in pain. "He's all in black, he was carrying a lock-picking kit and a knife, and he fell OFF A ROOF! He's obviously a cat burglar. A pilferer. A burglar. A THIEF! Thieves don't have money, take it from me!"
Eaups stifled a laugh as her nose bobbed in the air, then turned the chuckle into a cough and sighed loudly, lowering his gaze again and wringing his hands in his lap. "M-maybe he's a good thief..." he suggested. Before Jesz could reply, there was a knock at the door. Then two knocks. Then three.
"It's Mel. Finally," Jesz said, limping over to the door of her small hut to open it. Mel stood there, her expensive robes torn along the edges and covered in dirt. There was an ornate archery bow hanging around her body. Although she looked pissed at first, as soon as she saw Jesz's nose sticking out of the doorway, her face contorted in a muffled giggle.
After a moment, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, stepping inside. Her long, brown hair flowed behind her and brushed over Jesz. Mel was much taller and more shapely than Jesz; even her hair couldn't resist the chance to make her jealous. "The bounty got away," Mel said. "I lost him in the merchant district and it is too dark for Aryx."
Jesz glowered as she shut the door. "I knew it! This is just not my OW day..." she grumbled as she followed Mel back to the bedroom - one of only two rooms in the hut. She looked over at Eaups and shot a pointed finger at him. "You! This is all your fault! You said we had your god's blessing!"
Guilt creeped over Eaups' features. "We did... we do... that's the problem with Murphy. We might have his blessing, but we don't know what it's for."
Jesz scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. "I doubt he's even real." This was a slap in the face to Eaups.
"He IS real! I've seen him!" the youth shouted, jumping to his feet and putting his nose against Jesz' in a rare display of emotion.
"Guys, quit it," Mel said as she looked at the man on the bed.
"Maybe you're just seeing things, huh? It's all that incense in the air over there in that temple," Jesz retorted, pushing her nose harder against his.
"Guys!"
"Well at least I have faith in something! You can only believe in what you can steal!"
"GUYS!" Mel, shouted, looking back at the bickering pair.
"WHAT?" they both shouted back in unison.
Beyond Mel, the man lay in the bed, eyes open, looking at them as they fought. He raised a hand, pointing to Jesz, and said in a very quiet, weak voice, "Nose." With a smile, he lowered his hand and closed his eyes, falling asleep again.
Jesz's face turned beet-red and she roughly pulled off the bulbous nose. "S-seriously? He wakes up for that? Look, he can't stay here..."
"It was your idea to bring him with us," Mel said. "Besides, Eaups is in a dorm, and there is no way my parents would let me keep a strange man in the house. Face it, you are stuck with him until he recovers." Some of the color faded from Jesz's cheeks as she realized this was true.
"What do you suppose happened to him?" Eaups asked.
Mel walked over to the bed and gingerly took hold of the arrow still stuck in him. She ripped open a small hole in his shirt to look at the wound, then let her fingers drift along the shaft of the arrow to the colorful feathers. "This looks... familiar..." she said to herself.
Jesz, meanwhile, was watching the stranger's face as it periodically contorted in pain. "I guess he tried to rob the wrong house," she said softly without looking away.
"Not just any house," Mel replied, her face blanching. "The palace. This fletching is from the royal guards. I knew it looked familiar. See this banding in blue and white? The grey lines through it? It is dyed peregrine feathers. There is no doubt about it. If he was at the palace, we may all be in trouble for keeping him here at all."
Eaups frowned and moved closer. "I think maybe he was fated to run into us. I think we are supposed to take care of him," he said.
"How do you know?" asked Mel.
"I don't know, it's just.. a feeling. It's the same feeling I got when I met you two. Look, no one will know he's here. We can keep our eyes open for any alert on him, and if we don't hear anything, then I think we'll be ok." He smiled softly at Mel, then over to Jesz, hoping to sway one of them. "Plus, if he's a thief, maybe you can... do thiefly things with him."
After a moment, Jesz took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Fine... if someone comes knocking on the door, I'll take the blame. But if he or anyone else kills me in the night, I'm coming back to haunt you, Eaups."
Mel nodded in agreement. "Alright, he will stay here for now. I will heal and bind him tonight, and check on him tomorrow. If he does anything funny, I can put this arrow right back in him, you know." She gave Eaups a wicked little smirk before looking back at the man's wound. "Alright, we can do this. Jesz, get me some clean water if you can. Warm preferably. Eaups, I need some clean rags."
Chapter 1 - The Mark
It should have gone according to plan. When things don't go according to plan, it makes you look like an amateur. And to someone who has been training their entire life for this moment, nothing could be worse than looking like an amateur.
However, Fate is a fickle god. Most humans have very incorrect suppositions about Fate. To some, Fate can be found in the form of 3 old crones sitting around a cauldron or sewing a tapestry while sharing a single eye between them. If this were so, Fate would be blind to most things that went on, but experience tells us otherwise. To others, Fate is seen as a nerdish, obfuscated figure in a robe toting around a tremendous tome which no one else can read. This can be a very appealing idea because it puts Fate so far away from the rest of us.
For Eaups, the god of Fate was a slightly balding god with a penchant for the flamboyant, anything violet (but absolutely NOT purple) and a very annoying laugh. He also went by the name of Murphy. Eaups was very certain of this because he'd not only seen and met Murphy, but he owed the guy $20.
Eaups, whose name was usually pronounced "oops", was a priest in the Pantheological Cloister in Kell, the capital city of the Kingdom of Mayford. He was a star student, rising in ranks quicker than almost anyone in the cloister. The 12 Mediators permitted him to be the youngest Avatar of a god in over a hundred years. None of this, however, did anything to ease his mind as he hid in a large, rank urn that smelled like it had recently been used to do something unspeakable with a cow's digestive system.
"Stop squirming," came a brusque voice from outside, that of a girl.
"Sorry, it's.. it's cramped in here and it smells like sh-"
"I don't care! You said this would work, and it better, or we are out $300." There was a sharp strike against the side of the urn, causing a dull CLANG to ring in Eaups' ears for some time.
"It'll work, Jesz. Trust me," Eaups said, though there was definite doubt in his voice.
Jesz wore a large burlap sack, trying to make it appear as if it might be a robe. In the dark alley, the illusion worked fairly well. Though her voice was young and sharp, her wrinkled hands shook as though she had palsy. In front of her was a large cart which carried the urn Eaups was hiding in, as well as a host of other nondescript items of pottery, basketry, and glass-works.
"Witch's brews, potions, charms, fetishes," she cried out in the voice of an old hag as she pushed the cart clumsily onto the cobbled street from the alley.
There were few other people on the road this night, which was typical of the neighborhood. In the day, it was a busy market place, lined with shops that sold everything from the obscure to the dangerous. By night, however, only the brave dared to venture down its winding lanes. The road-side shops closed up at nightfall and only carts remained. Unlike a storefront, carts were mobile, and with the proper lookout even the slowest cart selling the most prohibited goods could make a decent getaway.
A tall, woman with long, flowing hair the color of autumn leaves in the winter moved up to the cart. A dark, expensive-looking robe and cowl wrapped around her to conceal most of her features. It was an exquisite display that screamed aristocracy, the kind that was only ever seen either being sold or being stolen on this street.
"What are you selling, madam?" she asked in a loud, gruff voice. Although no one would recognize her on that street, it was not because of her rather amusing attempt at a disguise.
Jesz leaned in and whispered behind clenched jaw, "Not so loud. Geez, where did you get that robe, Mel? I thought I said a rag!"
"It was the only thing I could find on such short notice," the woman answered in a hurried whisper, then leaned back as she "inspected" a jar filled with what she hoped were pickles.
"Well you stick - Only the finest charms, fetishes, 'n potions, deary - out like a sore thumb!" The change in her voice from chastising to little-old-lady made Eaups shiver a little. She did that too easily.
After a moment or two of silent bickering and loud appraisal, Jesz shot a knowing glance to Mel and nodded beneath her hood. Two men had just come into view, one with arms thicker than Jesz's ego, the other with a large crimson patch over one eye. As they wandered closer, Jesz moved around the cart, hobbling as well as she could, and Mel stepped back while holding the jar of pickles up the light of the moon as if inspecting it carefully.
"Charms, brews, and potions. Sir, you look like you could use a first-class item of genu-ine witchery," old-lady Jesz said as she picked up some items from the cart and moved closer to the man with the eyepatch. She held up a bracelet that looked like it was made of a lizard - or perhaps several parts of several lizards - and motioned it towards the man.
"No... thank you," the man added, holding his hand up in a gesture of dismissal. He knew better than to anger a witch. In fact, the eyepatch was a constant reminder.
"Yer lookin' to get even, ain't ya?" Jesz said. Although the only part of her face the man could see was a large nose, the kind that could only be attached to a crone, he could tell she was smiling. This wasn't just any smile, but the smile of a known secret. The man stopped in his tracks, causing his companion to run into him, mutter a few apologies, and step back to oversee the transaction.
"How did you know that?" the one-eyed man asked, raising his eyebrow.
Jesz cackled and tapped the side of her crooked nose. "Granny Beetle has her ways," she said. Mel ventured a glance over at the bodyguard, but rolled her eyes at the name Jesz chose to call herself. "If'n yer lookin' to get an eye fer an eye..." Jesz said, leaning closer. The man found himself leaning in as well. "...then you'll want a boggart's brew," she continued, pointing at the urn Eaups sat in. Eaups had been holding his breath ever since the man began to talk. That, however, was his cue. He closed his eyes and started to mutter the incantations of a spell as quietly as he could, his hands having just enough room to weave the necessary gestures.
"What's a boggart's brew?" the man said, his eye following along Jesz' crooked finger to the urn. He already seemed drawn by the air of mystery it possessed.
"Trade secret," Jesz replied with another ghastly cackle. "Boggarts're nasty little buggers that peck out yer teeth and leave ya gold," she said, eliciting a groan from Mel. The bodyguard turned to look at Mel, who looked back to him with a huff and moved to the cart to put down the jar of pickles.
Everything was ready. The man was starting to lean over the urn with the promise of money and revenge, Mel had put herself into position to block their escape, while Eaups was almost done with his spell.
Jesz reached down and removed the top of the urn. Everything was in slow-motion. Jesz was pulling out her big guns. "Gar-an-teed," Eaups heard her say as he came to the last line of the spell. His mind raced with the thought of the bounty they were going to get as he looked up into the face of his unsuspecting vic-CRASH!
The urn fell over, shattering pots and jars on the cart. With a heavy earthen CLUNK, it rolled onto the street. Eaups didn't have time to process what was going on; all he knew was that the world started to spin and then the urn shattered around him.
"STOP!" he heard Mel yell as she took off after the two men, who were making their escape.
"What happened?" groaned Eaups to no one in particular. He brushed some of the urn shards off, took a breath of fresh air, and then looked around. "Jesz, what..." Back at the cart, Jesz was sprawled out on the ground with a strange man on top of her. He dressed in black, unconscious, and had an arrow sitcking out of his side.
However, Fate is a fickle god. Most humans have very incorrect suppositions about Fate. To some, Fate can be found in the form of 3 old crones sitting around a cauldron or sewing a tapestry while sharing a single eye between them. If this were so, Fate would be blind to most things that went on, but experience tells us otherwise. To others, Fate is seen as a nerdish, obfuscated figure in a robe toting around a tremendous tome which no one else can read. This can be a very appealing idea because it puts Fate so far away from the rest of us.
For Eaups, the god of Fate was a slightly balding god with a penchant for the flamboyant, anything violet (but absolutely NOT purple) and a very annoying laugh. He also went by the name of Murphy. Eaups was very certain of this because he'd not only seen and met Murphy, but he owed the guy $20.
Eaups, whose name was usually pronounced "oops", was a priest in the Pantheological Cloister in Kell, the capital city of the Kingdom of Mayford. He was a star student, rising in ranks quicker than almost anyone in the cloister. The 12 Mediators permitted him to be the youngest Avatar of a god in over a hundred years. None of this, however, did anything to ease his mind as he hid in a large, rank urn that smelled like it had recently been used to do something unspeakable with a cow's digestive system.
"Stop squirming," came a brusque voice from outside, that of a girl.
"Sorry, it's.. it's cramped in here and it smells like sh-"
"I don't care! You said this would work, and it better, or we are out $300." There was a sharp strike against the side of the urn, causing a dull CLANG to ring in Eaups' ears for some time.
"It'll work, Jesz. Trust me," Eaups said, though there was definite doubt in his voice.
Jesz wore a large burlap sack, trying to make it appear as if it might be a robe. In the dark alley, the illusion worked fairly well. Though her voice was young and sharp, her wrinkled hands shook as though she had palsy. In front of her was a large cart which carried the urn Eaups was hiding in, as well as a host of other nondescript items of pottery, basketry, and glass-works.
"Witch's brews, potions, charms, fetishes," she cried out in the voice of an old hag as she pushed the cart clumsily onto the cobbled street from the alley.
There were few other people on the road this night, which was typical of the neighborhood. In the day, it was a busy market place, lined with shops that sold everything from the obscure to the dangerous. By night, however, only the brave dared to venture down its winding lanes. The road-side shops closed up at nightfall and only carts remained. Unlike a storefront, carts were mobile, and with the proper lookout even the slowest cart selling the most prohibited goods could make a decent getaway.
A tall, woman with long, flowing hair the color of autumn leaves in the winter moved up to the cart. A dark, expensive-looking robe and cowl wrapped around her to conceal most of her features. It was an exquisite display that screamed aristocracy, the kind that was only ever seen either being sold or being stolen on this street.
"What are you selling, madam?" she asked in a loud, gruff voice. Although no one would recognize her on that street, it was not because of her rather amusing attempt at a disguise.
Jesz leaned in and whispered behind clenched jaw, "Not so loud. Geez, where did you get that robe, Mel? I thought I said a rag!"
"It was the only thing I could find on such short notice," the woman answered in a hurried whisper, then leaned back as she "inspected" a jar filled with what she hoped were pickles.
"Well you stick - Only the finest charms, fetishes, 'n potions, deary - out like a sore thumb!" The change in her voice from chastising to little-old-lady made Eaups shiver a little. She did that too easily.
After a moment or two of silent bickering and loud appraisal, Jesz shot a knowing glance to Mel and nodded beneath her hood. Two men had just come into view, one with arms thicker than Jesz's ego, the other with a large crimson patch over one eye. As they wandered closer, Jesz moved around the cart, hobbling as well as she could, and Mel stepped back while holding the jar of pickles up the light of the moon as if inspecting it carefully.
"Charms, brews, and potions. Sir, you look like you could use a first-class item of genu-ine witchery," old-lady Jesz said as she picked up some items from the cart and moved closer to the man with the eyepatch. She held up a bracelet that looked like it was made of a lizard - or perhaps several parts of several lizards - and motioned it towards the man.
"No... thank you," the man added, holding his hand up in a gesture of dismissal. He knew better than to anger a witch. In fact, the eyepatch was a constant reminder.
"Yer lookin' to get even, ain't ya?" Jesz said. Although the only part of her face the man could see was a large nose, the kind that could only be attached to a crone, he could tell she was smiling. This wasn't just any smile, but the smile of a known secret. The man stopped in his tracks, causing his companion to run into him, mutter a few apologies, and step back to oversee the transaction.
"How did you know that?" the one-eyed man asked, raising his eyebrow.
Jesz cackled and tapped the side of her crooked nose. "Granny Beetle has her ways," she said. Mel ventured a glance over at the bodyguard, but rolled her eyes at the name Jesz chose to call herself. "If'n yer lookin' to get an eye fer an eye..." Jesz said, leaning closer. The man found himself leaning in as well. "...then you'll want a boggart's brew," she continued, pointing at the urn Eaups sat in. Eaups had been holding his breath ever since the man began to talk. That, however, was his cue. He closed his eyes and started to mutter the incantations of a spell as quietly as he could, his hands having just enough room to weave the necessary gestures.
"What's a boggart's brew?" the man said, his eye following along Jesz' crooked finger to the urn. He already seemed drawn by the air of mystery it possessed.
"Trade secret," Jesz replied with another ghastly cackle. "Boggarts're nasty little buggers that peck out yer teeth and leave ya gold," she said, eliciting a groan from Mel. The bodyguard turned to look at Mel, who looked back to him with a huff and moved to the cart to put down the jar of pickles.
Everything was ready. The man was starting to lean over the urn with the promise of money and revenge, Mel had put herself into position to block their escape, while Eaups was almost done with his spell.
Jesz reached down and removed the top of the urn. Everything was in slow-motion. Jesz was pulling out her big guns. "Gar-an-teed," Eaups heard her say as he came to the last line of the spell. His mind raced with the thought of the bounty they were going to get as he looked up into the face of his unsuspecting vic-CRASH!
The urn fell over, shattering pots and jars on the cart. With a heavy earthen CLUNK, it rolled onto the street. Eaups didn't have time to process what was going on; all he knew was that the world started to spin and then the urn shattered around him.
"STOP!" he heard Mel yell as she took off after the two men, who were making their escape.
"What happened?" groaned Eaups to no one in particular. He brushed some of the urn shards off, took a breath of fresh air, and then looked around. "Jesz, what..." Back at the cart, Jesz was sprawled out on the ground with a strange man on top of her. He dressed in black, unconscious, and had an arrow sitcking out of his side.
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