Disclaim.
RANDOM FACT: Did you know that the dude who played Inspector Gadget also voiced Simba in all three of the Lion King movies?
:D
Two characters haven't been leaving me alone lately. Thank goodness that it isn't that trio I've come to love and hate all at the same time. Those three will drive a person to insanity…
Anthony Blunt leaned over his large cherry desk, his eyes (for once) not hidden by the spectacles normally seen upon his face as he focused on the large map in front of him. To anyone watching, Anthony looked like the scribe he portrayed. Small. Scrawny. Innocent as a flea. But those who knew Anthony knew that the man calculating the distances between one point and another was dangerous. Extremely dangerous, with emphasis on the 'extremely.'
If there were a list of the most dangerous people on earth, Anthony would probably rank in at about seven. Before him would be people similar to the Masked Rider and Gage White. Hell, maybe even Halt O'Carrick, Anthony thought half mindedly. After Anthony would be people like the Oakleaf Knight and Alan Clark. That is when Alan can keep his temper from exploding, Anthony thought as he checked his estimate of the distance between Wolf Peek Ridge and the small trading village of Govenant. His estimate was correct. Right down to the millimeter.
Anthony, in a word, was a genius. He was a master technician, had expansive knowledge of the environment, and was perhaps the best mathematician the world had ever seen. In other words, Anthony was like the Einstein of his time period. But, then there was White… who was like the Benjamin Franklin gone evil. The guy (White, that is) was persuasive- extremely persuasive.
Anthony sighed as he tried to figure out where White's hideout was. "Where are you, Gage?" Anthony growled. He banged his hand on the desk in frustration, shaking the table and all the objects on it. From what he'd figured, White's current hideout wasn't in any southern fiefs. The Organization knew where White's major head quarters were, but attacking the place in their current state would be suicidal. White always moved his hideouts from town to town, fief to fief. The man knew that if he didn't move, the Organization would eventually gather the numbers to siege hold of his castle.
White Castle- as it had been called for over five centuries- was located along the border of the Norgate fief. The Castle belonged to the White family- once a noble family of knights (that betrayed Araluen during the Morgarath fiasco) and arch rivals of the Blunt family. The Blunt family (who'd fought on the Araluen side by stopping Wargal raids) owned what the Organization used as a head quarters- the Mansion. The Blunts were a criminal family of thieves and murders with a harsh sense of training. For over five centuries, the two families had been at each other's necks. Now, only a few members (seven to be exact…) of the families remained after…
NO! Anthony thought harshly. I will NOT think about that! He yelled at himself. Thinking about the… incident… was hard on him. The only people who lived through the incident were him, his little brother, and his uncle- three of the seven people left to fight out the feud. The other four were Whites. In some ways, the two families had switched places during the war. The Blunts were still criminals and still feared by anyone who came across them… but they had different purposes for their crimes. The Whites were still experts with the sword and could defeat just about anyone in a sword fight… but they weren't knights anymore.
Anthony scowled. He really hated trying to solve White's mysteries. Sure, Anthony was a genius. But White was a psychopath with no intention of stopping his crimes until the remaining Blunts were dead. He's somewhere in Norgate… Anthony thought to himself. "Will said that he ran into Gilroy in Govenant. If Roy is in Norgate, then Gage isn't too far behind…" Anthony said aloud. "And if Gage is planning something, then Gilroy will most likely be involved with said something." Anthony chuckled slightly. "I assume that the Masked Rider will make an appearance?"
He'd meant to say it jokingly. After all, the Masked Rider (TMR, for short) was known for showing up out of nowhere. The man had managed to sneak into the Ranger Commandant's office and steal a few reports on crimes recently committed by White. The funny thing, though, was the fact that Crowley had been in his chair, sipping a cup of coffee with the said reports in his hands when they were stolen. TMR had somehow (how the hell he'd managed it- Anthony didn't know) to switch the reports with a note hinting info at the disappearance of a Baron.
That, of course, was intentional. The Organization had figured out who'd taken the Baron and where he was when the case was handed to the Ranger Corps. The Founder, wanting to… 'help'… the Rangers, wrote up a note that basically gave them the info they needed. But, that is a different story to be saved for another time.
Still, TMR had a habit of showing up out of nowhere. That being said, when Anthony had asked his question, he got a reply.
"Wouldn't be the same without him, wouldn't it?"
Anthony spun around on his toes, eyes wide as he finally noticed the hiding bandit (who'd been in the room long before Anthony's thoughts began to wander). "My God! I didn't see you there!" Anthony exclaimed. TMR stepped into the candle light, dressed in the simple Ranger garb.
"Good, that means I haven't lost my touch." The Masked Rider replied, his tone light and normal compared to the deep monotone he normally used.
The Masked Rider was considered one of the most dangerous men in all of Araluen. What made him so dangerous wasn't the fact that he didn't have any contempt for the victims of his crimes, but that he was believed to be a renegade Ranger. Who the Ranger was? No one knew.
The popular belief was that the Masked Rider was one of the thirteen Rangers who'd supposedly been killed in a fire at a Ranger Gathering about two years back. The belief was plausible- TMR's face was proof enough. Half the face was burned and scarred. Whatever his face looked like before he got those scars was a mystery. Supposedly no one had ever seen the other side of his face- there was a black mask that covered the unscarred tissue of his face. Sure, the fabric was denser in some places- making it so he could see and breathe without any trouble, but no one knew what his face looked like beneath the dense area. The Rangers didn't even know his eye or hair color.
Anthony Blunt knew better, though. He knew exactly who the Masked Rider was. He knew TMR's history- everything from who his father was to how he got those scars. The Masked Rider removed his hood, and for once in a long time, he wasn't wearing the mask. Then again, Anthony had seen his face before. In fact, Anthony had known TMR long before he'd gotten the scars.
"It's good to see you, Will."
"Nice to see you to, Anthony."
"How's things been for you?"
"As good as things can be when you've got a psychotic bastard trying to murder each and every person you've ever cared for."
"Oh come on, things can't be that bad."
"Says the guy who spends his days cooped up in this room."
"Actually, he spends his days cooped up in either this room, or that room." Anthony said, gesturing towards the door that led to the Library.
"Whatever." Will replied in a rebellious teenager voice.
"Coffee?" Anthony said, gesturing towards the pot sitting on the edge of his desk.
"Yours?" Will asked with his eyebrow raised.
"Anna's." Anthony replied. He sat down in a chair with a 'plop!' before resting his feet on the desk. Will made a face that signaled he was deciding whether or not to accept the coffee.
"How long has it been sitting there?" He asked. Anna was known for making great coffee- almost as good as Halt's, but Anthony was known for allowing his coffee to just sit there and get cold before he finally remembered to drink it.
Anthony shrugged- he never paid attention to that part. "An hour or so." He replied half mindedly. Will scowled. Coffee didn't taste good after it'd been sitting there for over half an hour.
"No thanks. I'll just get some on my way out." Will replied with a shrug.
"What is it with you? I swear- you could at least stay the night for once. The North Wing is getting dusty considering you won't Anna or any of the other cleaning ladies in there." Anthony said as he poured himself some coffee. Maybe Will wouldn't drink it, but he would.
"The Founder is busy. He can't spend all his days in the Mansion. After all, Gage is still tormenting 'im." Will said with a shrug. He moved towards the map and began studying places where Anthony had left off.
"That bastard torments as many people as he can." Anthony said moodily. "Any ideas?" He asked, gesturing towards the map.
"Honestly, I don't even think he's in the country." Will sighed. Anthony's eyebrows shot up. He hadn't thought of that. "But he's near the border. Could be on the Araluen side, could be on the Picta side." Will said with a shrug.
"Didn't think of that." Anthony scratched his chin.
"I work better with coffee. You think Anna will still have the pot running?" Will asked from his place in front of the map.
"Probably- she knows Alan and his habits of demanding coffee in the dead of the night." Anthony replied. He closed his eyes briefly, only to open them and find that Will had snuck off. "How the hell does he do that?" Anthony chuckled. You can do it too- after all you managed to teach John to do it, a little part of his mind said to him, –With Will's help.
Anthony picked up a report he'd... 'borrowed'... from Alan. The report was on some raids going on in a few southern fiefs. Apparently, Alan believed that they were connected to the war with Picta. But, being the genius at heart, Anthony knew that the raiding was really just some Iberian pirates with a thirst for gold. Sometimes, the man was so ignorant it scared Anthony. "Why the hell Will chose him, I'll never know…" He mumbled to himself. Anthony reached for the coffee sitting on his desk and began taking a sip. Instantly, he scowled. "Will's right. I need to stop leaving coffee out."
Anthony returned to reading his report. And, much to his surprise, he realized that the paper he was holding wasn't his report. Instead, it was piece of scrap paper that read:
You really need to start paying attention to things. You're almost as ignorant as Alan.
After all, I managed to swipe this paper and a pen off your desk, scribble this note on here and switch this with your precious report while you were sipping your cold coffee.
All while dangling from a ceiling beam.
Anthony looked up, and just as the note said, Will sitting on a ceiling beam, his legs dangling over the edge with his coffee in hand. "I still can't believe you didn't see me get that pen." Will said with a smirk.
"You can't see how you got the pen? How the hell did you manage to switch the papers? That's the real question!" Anthony exclaimed. His eyes were wide open, all thoughts of comfortably drinking his cold coffee and reading his reports gone. "I never put the piece down- how in the world did you do that?"
"Practice." Will replied with a shrug. "You could do it too if you would just get out of that stupid library for a while." Will accused.
"Hey- it was your idea to give the Organization an information broker. I just so happened to be the person who was there at the time." Anthony shot right back.
"But do you really have to drive Alan to the peak of insanity? I swear- one of these days that man is going to snap, and when he does… I don't even want to imagine that." Will shook his head. "So, any ideas on White's location?"
"With our combined inputs, I'd say he's a few miles north of Wolf Peek Ridge and west of Govenant."
"What? You mean I was right there!" Will said annoyed. "If I'd known that, I would've grabbed John and had him help me terrorize the place…" Will trailed off, face turning pale as he remembered something.
"Will?" Anthony asked, eyebrows raised. He only gets like this when Gage is threatening someone… Anthony thought to himself. "What about John? Is he alright?" Anthony's mood quickly switched. The intelligent man slowly transformed into that of a concerned friend… or brother. "Why are you really here?" Will gulped.
"I need info. And I need you to begin organizing a back up force."
"What info? Why do you need a force?"
"There's an ambush planned. John ran off and… saved… an old friend of mine…"
"A Ranger?"
"No…"
"Bandit you somehow befriended?"
"No…"
"Alyss?"
Will didn't respond. Instead, his hand reached into his cloak where his hand found the black cloth he kept as a mask. "I need to go. Organize the force and be prepared to send them out at a moment's notice. Tell Alan that The Founder has left you in charge of a certain mission and that he'll be reporting to you for a while."
Another thing the Masked Rider was known for was dramatic exits. He turned, his cloak flapping in the air like a cape before he pulled his hood up and over his head. He leaped into the air and his hands caught on the ceiling beam before he swung forward like an acrobat and into the network of tunnels that led between the floors of the Mansion. Anthony sighed. "Once again, you're gone in less than an hour." He stood from his chair and reached for his spectacles that were sitting on a book. The cloak he'd been wearing was removed, showing simple scribe robes. He moved towards a water basin and wet his hair down into the slick style that the Librarian and only the Librarian wore.
The Librarian sighed. Alan wasn't going to appreciate being woken up before the buttcrack of dawn.
. . .
Sorry this chapter took so long. Internet issues, writer's block- they're all just one overly large pain in the behind.
Updates should (and hopefully) be on time from now on. I've got a jump drive, so if internet decides to be stupid, I can just take the drive and upload from somewhere else.
-Sharkbait
Oh, and to a certain person (can't remember your name, sorry)- TIM MCGRAW FTW! :D :D :D
Someone finally caught that. I'd lost a bet and so my brother (darn him if he's reading this [which he is...]) made me incorporate a country song into the chapter. I've been planning on changing it, but SOMEONE won't let me on the computer with internet to do so.
Now, I can sign off.
-Sharkbait
