Another Fine Mess
by Where is Shade?
Disclaimer: Rowan Phoenix, Shadow (this one anyway),
the Guardian, and the Bard are Shade's. Other series
that follow should belong to others, otherwise something
is wrong with this universe.
~~~~~~~
In the Multiverse, there were worlds beyond measure,
universes beyond the count of even a god's lifetime.
And spanning the boundries between these infinite
realities were waystations, places of rest for those
who knew where to find them.
The "Lucky Duck" was one such nexus point. The inn had been around
since anyone could remember, a haven for those rogues and scoundrels
with just enough principles to get themselves into trouble.
Worn and battered, the large structure of wood and stone had
come to bear no small resemblence to the features of some great
giant of ages past. Its formidable outer appearance was usually
enough to discourage the curiousity of those who were not the
place's trade. It was not a place where the respectable came to
call.
But it did not dissuade the three cloaked and hooded figures
that approached under the glaring noon sun.
They were the three who were one. Shadow of the Black,
deadly assassin, thief, and necromancer. Guardian of
the Light, holy paladin and white cleric. And Rowan,
perhaps the most unusual of the three, whose simple
cloak of grey on green revealed as little of the ranger
as he himself did.
The three had seen much and all knew more of
battle then peace. There were few who would
offer them trouble, even in this place.
And they had business here today.
~~~~~~~
"I still think this is a bad idea."
Shadow pulled the hood of his black cloak further down over his head,
wanting this business over and done with as soon as possible. He disliked
having to come out during the day, especially at the request of that
half-elven idiot. Although no longer as vulnerable to sunlight since
forming the truce with his other parts, he still found the experience
to be quite unpleasant.
"The Bard asked us to meet him here. Why don't you complain to him?"
The Guardian drew back his white hood to shoot an irritated look
at his counterpart, annoyed as always by his childish behavior.
Even more then two thousand years later, their dark side still
managed to get under his skin.
"Enough, both of you."
The pair fell silent as their third counterpart
studied the building in front of them with a slight
frown on his face.
{Strange, I wouldn't think this place to be one that the Bard would frequent.}
The other two nodded in unspoken agreement to his shared thought.
Normally the pervert stuck to places where the waitresses were
pretty and easy to grab, fondle, and otherwise make a nuisance
of himself with. It was one of the half-elf's more disreputable
and yet also consistant character traits.
"Should we reunite?"
Rowan considered the Guardian's suggestion
for a long moment, but then finally shook his
head.
"No, I want us to have some flexibility
should things turn out to be not be what they seem."
He ignored the half-amused snort from his right.
"Guardian, take point. Shadow, cover the flanks."
"On it."
"Hmmph."
The trio pushed their way through the front doors.
"Hey guys! What kept you?"
It was a near thing, but they managed to resist the urge to facefault.
"Over here! Isn't this place great! All the booze you can drink!!"
The Bard waved at them with a half-full mug in each hand
from a booth in the far corner. It was obvious from looking
at him that he'd already had more then a few of the house specials.
The fair haired minstrel was already flush in the cheeks and his
normal hyperness was now reaching tasmanian devil levels.
Rowan covered his face with his right hand,
suddenly feeling the beginnings of a headache.
It was suddenly quite tempting to pretend that
they didn't know who the Bard was.
"Too bad about the service though. No pretty ladies to have fun with!"
Very tempting indeed.
"How many have you had already?"
"Uh..."
The Bard's green eyes briefly lost focus as he tried
to find a brain cell that wasn't sloshed to the gills yet.
"I think I lost count after the sixth keg."
The Guardian winced in spite of himself. Even knowing
the Bard's almost legendary capacity for alcohol,
that level of drinking was nothing to take lightly.
"So why'd ya want me to come here anyway?
Did your wives spook you out again?"
Shadow suddenly developed a twitch in his right eye.
"We -don't- spook," He growled, "Especially not from a bunch of -..."
Rowan's upraised hand cut him off.
"Wait a second, I thought *you* set the place to meet us here."
"Nope," The Bard wobbled, "I got my invitation from you guys."
"Shadow! Guardian!"
Both realized the danger at the same time
Rowan did. All three began searching the area,
looking for something, anything out of place.
The half-elf looked puzzled.
"What? Was it something I said?"
Then Shadow pointed toward the base of the Bard's table.
"There!"
Rowan wasted no time, he simply slammed down
the heels of his palms against the wood.
The boards fell apart with a audible groan,
revealing a sinister black metallic device
buried inside. A faint hum could be heard
from coming from somewhere inside it.
There was no mistaking the lethal design.
"It's a dimensional mine!!"
Screams and panicked yelling erupted from the other patrons
as they ran for the exits, a general scuffle breaking out
as each person struggled to escape first. To be caught in
such a blast would mean an almost certain and terrible death.
Or worse.
"Bard, D-hop out of here now!"
The Guardian was busy trying to bring up
a magical containment field around the table.
The device's humming was building to an almost
painful intensity.
"Wha??"
"Damnit! There's no time!"
Rowan grabbed their friend by the scruff
of his outfit with one hand, the other already
working on a teleport to get them both out of here.
They'd been caught flatfooted by such an
unexpected attack, and now he cursed himself
for not having been prepared.
It was simply his misfortune to miss the fact
that the Bard, still drunk as a skunk,
was *also* trying to initiate a dimensional
jump as he'd been told to at the same time.
Shadow alone was the one to spot the
discrepency in the chaos. The innkeeper
behind the counter of wine and ale neither
panicked or fled. Instead his beady eyes
were staring at the four with what could
only be called a sense of anticipation.
"Bastard."
The dark assassin flexed his wrist once.
A throwing knife slid out of his long sleeve
to come to rest comfortably in his hand.
The innkeeper realized his peril too late.
With a quick overhand toss Shadow sent
the blade spinning straight into the
man's left eye and the soft brain matter
that lay behind it.
Without even a groan the corpse slumped forward,
its head striking the counter with a dull thud.
Shadow's piercing violet eyes gleamed briefly with a
muted sense of satisfaction as he started to finally
make his own escape.
"Too clean a death for the likes of-"
And then the mine detonated.
(to be continued...)
by Where is Shade?
Disclaimer: Rowan Phoenix, Shadow (this one anyway),
the Guardian, and the Bard are Shade's. Other series
that follow should belong to others, otherwise something
is wrong with this universe.
~~~~~~~
In the Multiverse, there were worlds beyond measure,
universes beyond the count of even a god's lifetime.
And spanning the boundries between these infinite
realities were waystations, places of rest for those
who knew where to find them.
The "Lucky Duck" was one such nexus point. The inn had been around
since anyone could remember, a haven for those rogues and scoundrels
with just enough principles to get themselves into trouble.
Worn and battered, the large structure of wood and stone had
come to bear no small resemblence to the features of some great
giant of ages past. Its formidable outer appearance was usually
enough to discourage the curiousity of those who were not the
place's trade. It was not a place where the respectable came to
call.
But it did not dissuade the three cloaked and hooded figures
that approached under the glaring noon sun.
They were the three who were one. Shadow of the Black,
deadly assassin, thief, and necromancer. Guardian of
the Light, holy paladin and white cleric. And Rowan,
perhaps the most unusual of the three, whose simple
cloak of grey on green revealed as little of the ranger
as he himself did.
The three had seen much and all knew more of
battle then peace. There were few who would
offer them trouble, even in this place.
And they had business here today.
~~~~~~~
"I still think this is a bad idea."
Shadow pulled the hood of his black cloak further down over his head,
wanting this business over and done with as soon as possible. He disliked
having to come out during the day, especially at the request of that
half-elven idiot. Although no longer as vulnerable to sunlight since
forming the truce with his other parts, he still found the experience
to be quite unpleasant.
"The Bard asked us to meet him here. Why don't you complain to him?"
The Guardian drew back his white hood to shoot an irritated look
at his counterpart, annoyed as always by his childish behavior.
Even more then two thousand years later, their dark side still
managed to get under his skin.
"Enough, both of you."
The pair fell silent as their third counterpart
studied the building in front of them with a slight
frown on his face.
{Strange, I wouldn't think this place to be one that the Bard would frequent.}
The other two nodded in unspoken agreement to his shared thought.
Normally the pervert stuck to places where the waitresses were
pretty and easy to grab, fondle, and otherwise make a nuisance
of himself with. It was one of the half-elf's more disreputable
and yet also consistant character traits.
"Should we reunite?"
Rowan considered the Guardian's suggestion
for a long moment, but then finally shook his
head.
"No, I want us to have some flexibility
should things turn out to be not be what they seem."
He ignored the half-amused snort from his right.
"Guardian, take point. Shadow, cover the flanks."
"On it."
"Hmmph."
The trio pushed their way through the front doors.
"Hey guys! What kept you?"
It was a near thing, but they managed to resist the urge to facefault.
"Over here! Isn't this place great! All the booze you can drink!!"
The Bard waved at them with a half-full mug in each hand
from a booth in the far corner. It was obvious from looking
at him that he'd already had more then a few of the house specials.
The fair haired minstrel was already flush in the cheeks and his
normal hyperness was now reaching tasmanian devil levels.
Rowan covered his face with his right hand,
suddenly feeling the beginnings of a headache.
It was suddenly quite tempting to pretend that
they didn't know who the Bard was.
"Too bad about the service though. No pretty ladies to have fun with!"
Very tempting indeed.
"How many have you had already?"
"Uh..."
The Bard's green eyes briefly lost focus as he tried
to find a brain cell that wasn't sloshed to the gills yet.
"I think I lost count after the sixth keg."
The Guardian winced in spite of himself. Even knowing
the Bard's almost legendary capacity for alcohol,
that level of drinking was nothing to take lightly.
"So why'd ya want me to come here anyway?
Did your wives spook you out again?"
Shadow suddenly developed a twitch in his right eye.
"We -don't- spook," He growled, "Especially not from a bunch of -..."
Rowan's upraised hand cut him off.
"Wait a second, I thought *you* set the place to meet us here."
"Nope," The Bard wobbled, "I got my invitation from you guys."
"Shadow! Guardian!"
Both realized the danger at the same time
Rowan did. All three began searching the area,
looking for something, anything out of place.
The half-elf looked puzzled.
"What? Was it something I said?"
Then Shadow pointed toward the base of the Bard's table.
"There!"
Rowan wasted no time, he simply slammed down
the heels of his palms against the wood.
The boards fell apart with a audible groan,
revealing a sinister black metallic device
buried inside. A faint hum could be heard
from coming from somewhere inside it.
There was no mistaking the lethal design.
"It's a dimensional mine!!"
Screams and panicked yelling erupted from the other patrons
as they ran for the exits, a general scuffle breaking out
as each person struggled to escape first. To be caught in
such a blast would mean an almost certain and terrible death.
Or worse.
"Bard, D-hop out of here now!"
The Guardian was busy trying to bring up
a magical containment field around the table.
The device's humming was building to an almost
painful intensity.
"Wha??"
"Damnit! There's no time!"
Rowan grabbed their friend by the scruff
of his outfit with one hand, the other already
working on a teleport to get them both out of here.
They'd been caught flatfooted by such an
unexpected attack, and now he cursed himself
for not having been prepared.
It was simply his misfortune to miss the fact
that the Bard, still drunk as a skunk,
was *also* trying to initiate a dimensional
jump as he'd been told to at the same time.
Shadow alone was the one to spot the
discrepency in the chaos. The innkeeper
behind the counter of wine and ale neither
panicked or fled. Instead his beady eyes
were staring at the four with what could
only be called a sense of anticipation.
"Bastard."
The dark assassin flexed his wrist once.
A throwing knife slid out of his long sleeve
to come to rest comfortably in his hand.
The innkeeper realized his peril too late.
With a quick overhand toss Shadow sent
the blade spinning straight into the
man's left eye and the soft brain matter
that lay behind it.
Without even a groan the corpse slumped forward,
its head striking the counter with a dull thud.
Shadow's piercing violet eyes gleamed briefly with a
muted sense of satisfaction as he started to finally
make his own escape.
"Too clean a death for the likes of-"
And then the mine detonated.
(to be continued...)