Greetings, True Believers!

Been a very hectic month, mostly for the better. I just got the Covid vaccine, and the security firm I work for is back in business, meaning I have a regular paycheck again. A lot of shops that closed last year are opening again, some under different names and owners; a Carvel is back in business, place that used to be a Dunkin Donuts is going to be a Brazilian bar and grill is going to open in a few weeks, and possibly the surest sign that the place is inching back to normal, the ice cream men are out again. (Nearly fell and sprained an ankle running after one when I heard the music, Lol.) All in all, it seems the worst is behind.

And of course, I'm writing again. This fic marks the third part of the "Shackled City" saga, which again I must remind everyone, is adapted from the Wizards of the Coast mega-adventure of the same name. Specific credit for this story goes to James Jacobs, who I believe is still one of the game's designers.

So, give me a read, and please, review. That helps a lot.

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Shadowchasers

Shackled City

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Part 3

Flood Season

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Shadowchaser Headquarters.

In an office located in the same wing, a bespectacled woman - whose age and ethnicity could only be physically described as "ambiguous" sat at a PC, the desktop dominated by the word processor. She adjusted her glasses, and with little show of emotion in her expression, started to type:

Report to Mr. Jalal Stormbringer

Subject: Requested Information Regarding Cauldron's annual Flood Festival

My Dear Jalal,

This information was, in fact, easier to acquire than I had assumed. While my contacts among natives and residents of Cauldron are sparse, the few I conversed with were willing - and happy - to share what they knew about the annual Flood Festival and the history surrounding it. Once I send this, I will, as directed, print out a hard copy and use a stamp of delivery to send it to our operatives in Cauldron via

Before I explain the events that led up to the formation of this holiday, I should give some information on the architecture of Cauldron. To be blunt, it is a slipshod and ill-conceived design, and a disaster waiting to happen.

Now, I doubt much planning could have gone into Cauldron initially, as it was originally a forced labor camp which grew into a town and then into a city, But the fact that it was built within the caldera of a - presumably - extinct volcano is only the most visible flaw. While destruction by fire could indeed occur should the volcano erupt, a far more likely agent of Cauldron's doom is water, specifically the rain.

The city is, essentially, built on the inside of a giant bowl, and rainfall flows and collects within the lake at the center of the caldera easily. Most of the time, rainwater drains from the lake into the caverns below, and then (as our three Chicago operatives discovered) into the Underlands beneath. But given its tropical location, Cauldron has a rainy season when winter approaches, and severe rain at this time can quickly overcome this natural drainage. The "official" procedure for such a crisis was for their militia to form volunteer squads to shore up the buildings and construct walls of sandbags, but in many cases, flooding would cause most citizens to panic and flee to higher grounds. The structures closest to the lake are the ones who feel the brunt of any flooding, and because those structures have always been the most poorly constructed in the city, with the residents being poor, sick, destitute, and elderly, the casualties and damage done by floods could be devastating.

The years 1809 through 1812 were the worst cases of flooding the city had seen up to then, each year seeing an increase in the rainfall and flooding. The 1812 floods were worse than the previous two years combined, the lake's waters reaching nearly to Ash Avenue, completely submerging entire neighborhoods. Even worse, the germ-infested water led to outbreaks of cholera and dysentery, and in the months that followed, a plague would cause deaths that would not be rivaled until the notorious London Broad Street outbreak in 1854. All in all, more than 800 residents of the lower neighborhoods, about 10 percent of Cauldron's population at the time, perished that year, and even those who survived would have to rebuild and start their lives anew. Many survivors spent the next year fearing the sky itself, dreading a worse rainy season to come.

Before I continue, I should note that many of the facts I relate may have been "dramatized" by unreliable accounts, as historic incidents often are.

The leaders of the three most powerful churches in the city - St. Cuthbert, Kord, and Wee Jas - plus the recently established church of Pelor, were, of course, the ones in charge of tending to the sick and dying, and in their nightmares received omens from their respective gods, warning them that the fears of even worse rains was not unfounded. While some would be quick to dismiss this as stress from exhaustion given the crisis, it was a risk they could not take. Action had to be taken.

So, aided and funded by the council who governed Cauldron, the leaders of the four churches pooled their resources and divine magic to craft several wands of water command, a task that took them the better part of the next year. Now, I doubt I need to remind you how this type of wand works, but for anyone else reading this report, I'll be brief. Water command is a potent elemental spell that can cause a large amount of freestanding water to flood or part or redirect flowing water. And when stored in a wand, a spell can be cast repeatedly, though only a limited amount of times.

True to the warnings given through the omens of their divine lieges, winter brought an unrelenting storm worse than any resident could remember. But now Cauldron was ready.

For a week, the four high-priests of the temples and their acolytes patrolled the lower streets using the wands' elemental magic to hold the flooding back. Their congregations were empowered by the display, and the militia found more volunteers willing to hold back the flooding the wands couldn't handle via the conventional means. Eventually, nearly the entire city was backing the efforts to hold the water back.

Finally, after days of fighting the onslaught from above, the clouds parted, and the sun returned. Cauldron was almost intact. They had won.

So successful was this method that Cauldron erupted into a celebration that literally lasted months. The four congregations would continue the plan in the ensuing years, with better funded efforts to craft the wands to be used against the encroaching floods if they must, followed by a celebration of the triumph over nature itself. Eventually, the Flood Festival became an annual tradition.

Officially, the Flood Festival starts with the first rainfall of the season, although some citizens start the party early. The public events are free for the most part, including carnival shows and games, athletic contests, lots of food and of course, a lot of alcohol. Supposedly, there are many private parties among the upper class, but then, they are the ones paying for the city's entertainment.

Thus, it does seem like Cauldron's Flood Festival is indeed one that makes light of a serious situation. A situation that, of course, is still serious. There have been only a few bouts of extreme rainfall in the past century, and the only true weather-related disasters to threaten Cauldron in recent decades are the two events I am sure you are aware of. I can only assume the current leaders of the four churches remain vigilant and prepared for future emergencies.

But… I can't help but feel concerned that time can lead to contentment, which can lead to neglect… Which can lead to tragedy…

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Flood Season

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Chapter One

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Optimism

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Just under four-thousand miles away, and six hours earlier, given the time difference, Nichole was deep asleep. In her nightmare, she gripped her sword hard in both hands, her hatred for her foe nearly causing her to disregard the man dying behind her.

"Well, this is a blow below the belt," she said with a scowl.

It was doubtful Jaden Yuki himself ever saw Darkness Neosphere as anything except an evil version of Elemental Hero Neos, and most duelists after him thought the same. Still, most of St. Cuthbert's clergy couldn't shake the feeling that it was supposed to be some corrupted version of Themis, designed by some enemy with the intent to mock them and their faith. After all, it was the huge, hulking, vaguely female demon with two mismatched wings, one feathered and one fiendish, suggesting a living corpse of a once-noble goddess, and the eyes on its face were blindfolded, much like the eyes of the Themis herself were. This was meant to show that, as the embodiment of Justice, she was willingly blind in order to be impartial, but Darkness Neosphere could see through extra eyes on its torso, perverting the very concept.

"You naive, gullible child!" goaded the demon. "You think you're SO smart, but you can't figure out the obvious answer even when it's right in front of you!"

"As in, all these dreams are a ploy to lure me here?" asked Nichole. "Actually, yeah, that did cross my mind once or twice. Who are you?"

"I am the Envoy of Despair, the destroyer of Hope, the -"

"I know who Dark Neosphere is, stupid!" snapped Nichole. "I'm talking to the man behind the curtain. You think I'm fooled by this charade? All this was scary at first, but it's starting to get annoying now. WHO ARE YOU?"

Neosphere stopped, looked down in her as she looked it in the face without fear. The Fiend crossed its arms and, to her surprise, smirked and chuckled.

"You are quite clever," it said with a voice that now seemed male and more polite. "Maybe I have taken the wrong approach here."

"What?" she demanded. "What the devil are you?"

"I am someone who shares a goal with you. A goal you do not realize yet, which I have multiple ways to achieve. One way is with your cooperation and approval, which I would prefer to have."

"Oh, uh-huh, like a Sith Lord trying to convince a Jedi to join him, right? Over my dead body."

"That is how a second way it would be obtained. Thus, I am simply here to make a proposition." Darkness Neosphere bore its claws, switching back to the more threatening voice. "Submit or die."

"Think I'll take option three," she said, lifting her sword.

To her shock, she felt a surge of warmth and strength, and found that she was no longer holding the sword. Like so many times when she dreamed before, the Mace of St. Cuthbert was in her hands.

Darkness Neosphere didn't seem to notice it, seeming to grow even bigger as it loomed towards her, with red veins appearing over its skin as its muscles expanded. "Think you can fight me, little girl?"

It slammed one huge claw down, shaking the dark cathedral, but Nichole nimbly leapt out of the way.

"Trying to scare me with size?" she said, almost with a laugh. "The bigger they are, the louder they cry to their mommies when you knock em down."

"How clever. What do you say we find out?"

"Come and get me, ugly. Game on."

It lunged again, with its right fist this time, but when Nichole dodged again, it slammed its fist into the pillar behind her, smashing the pillar into broken shards and causing the cathedral to shake even worse.

Could this place actually collapse? she thought. She shook her head. No like I'd miss the place if it did.

As the beast lifted its claws again for a second strike, she leapt in front of it, slamming the head of the Mace into its stomach, then spun with a fierce blow into its chin. The force of the blow was even stronger than she had intended, knocking the giant fiend into the altar of bones and skull, smashing it to pieces and causing the candelabras to topple over, setting fire to the curtains behind it.

Nichole was about to continue her assault, but then paused as she noticed something. Naicht's body was gone, and the cross he had been nailed to was broken. A trail of blood led towards the altar for a few feet, before drying up about halfway there.

Had he freed himself? Had someone else? Was he…?

Snap out of it, Nichole! she told herself. Focus!

She figured it out. All she had to do to defeat this thing was keep at least one foot in reality. Naicht was dead, she couldn't save him, and even if this did mean something, she'd worry about it later. The beast started to get up, and it was infuriated.

Okay, Nichole, she thought to herself, anytime you want to wake up would be fine with me…

"You little brat!" cursed the Fiend, and it charged at her, causing the entire cathedral to tremble with each pounding step it took, and the eyes on its chest glowing furiously.

That was a mistake.

Seeing those eyes as an obvious weak spot, Nichole leapt towards it and aimed a kick at the left one, and the creature made a blood curdling screech. Grasping the mace with both hands, she smacked the demon upside the head, and it fell backwards with a crash….

"That's game…"

"True, you are victorious," said the male voice again. Then Darkness Neosphere's prone body shattered into triangles, as a defeated monster in the Solid Vision system tended to do. "But like you said, that monster was naught but a puppet."

"Who are you?" Nichole demanded for the fourth time. She felt dizzy and exhausted; the dream was ending.

"You've earned a rest," said the voice, "sleep well…"

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Even further southeast from London than Chicago was west, it was a quarter to ten in Cauldron. The sun shone brightly over the city, laborers near lakeside still hurrying to install, build and assemble everything that would be needed for the big event.

Near the lakeside was the Coy Nixie, a popular tavern and restaurant for the average citizenry of Cauldron, much friendlier and cheerier than the Spider's Parlor, especially with the lunch hour approaching.

Although, while live entertainment wouldn't start there until evening, a lot of the patrons had grouped outside to watch the odd spectacle that had started. Two mainlanders with odd devices had started a competition of sorts with two locals that, now, seemed hard to ignore.

Naturally, the two mainlanders were Francis and Maddie, and the "odd devices" were Duel Disks. The two locals had them too, but they were Battle City style, older models than what the two Shadowchasers had, and, fortunately, easier to learn to use.

Speaking of the two locals in the two-on-two duel, one was a short, weaselly man with a weak chin, watery eyes, a long face, and messy hair. His clothing was clean and intact, but about one size too large. He had no shoes; his oversized feet identified him as a fensir, a type of Shadow common to Scandinavia, often believed to be related to gnomes and dwarves with some Earth elemental blood. In front of him his Disk projected his active cards, a set monster and one set card in his Spell Zone.

The fourth duelist was female and far more attractive. With smooth, dusky skin and raven-black hair styled in long cornrows. Her clothing was, again, plain, and rather old, but it fit her much better. She had a few traits that betrayed her Shadow origins, horse-like ears, hooves instead of feet, and a matching tail that swayed behind her, but it only enhanced her already exotic appearance. She had a mandolin strapped to her back, an instrument of old-fashioned design but of recent make. Her field had two set cards in her Spell Zone, a set monster, and a grim-faced Samurai with a katana, the Dark-Attribute Warrior named Mataza the Zapper. (1,300 ATK)

It was Francis' turn now; he had two monsters, a small (relatively speaking) two-headed Dinosaur, Two-Headed King Rex (1,600 ATK) and an armored, angry-looking Dinosaur about the same size with a large horn on its snout, Mad Sword Beast. (1,400 ATK) He looked over to Maddie, who had The Tricky, a weird jester in a yellow and black suit with question marks on its chest and face (2,000 ATK) and Injection Fairy Lily, a cute, smiling nurse with a syringe as big as she was. (400 ATK)

"I'll set two cards and then I'm done," he said. He fit the two cards into the Disk, and they appeared concealed behind the two Dinosaurs. "You're up, Sypha, give me everything you've got."

"Whatever you say," said Sypha, with a smug grin. "I draw, and then flip over my set monster, Iron Blacksmith Kotetsu!"

The card in front of her turned 90 degrees, then flipped over, and a muscular man materialized upon it, bare-chested, wearing a kilt and tall hat, and sporting a goatee. An anvil appeared with him, and he produced a red hot, iron axe, which he started to pound with his hammer. (500 ATK)

"His flip effect lets me gain an Equip Spell, so let's see what he has this time."

Kotetsu grasped the axe with tongs, then grunted and doused it into water, tempering it with a blast of steam. Then he nodded and flicked the tongs towards Sypha, flinging the axe, which shrunk and transformed into a card right before she caught it.

"The Lucky Iron Axe!" she exclaimed. "And I can Equip it to Mataza here to boost his Score by 500 points."

As she played the card, Mataza's kata vanished and was replaced by a metal hatchet with fiery, glowing runes on the blade. (1,800 ATK)

"Now Mataza attacks," she continued, Mataza winding up to throw the axe as she announced it, "and via his effect, he can do it twice!"

Mataza hurled the axe and it spun towards Mad Sword Beast, cutting the Dinosaur in half; Francis instinctively dodged, but the axe made a U-turn in mid-air, spinning towards and through Two-Headed King Rex.

"This is pretty fun," she laughed. "Now I can use my Tailor of the Fickle Spell!"

Mataza caught the axe on the rebound, and as the Quickplay Spell was played, tossed it to Kotetsu who stood up and brandished it. (1,000 ATK)

"Attack Francis directly!" she ordered, and Kotetsu made a leap, slamming the weapon into Francis and knocking him on his back.

"How's that for all I've got?"

The Life Point counter on the Shadowchaser's Disk fell to 2,600. "Guess I asked for that," he groaned.

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Deep in the cellars below Cauldron, where the bright sun and cheery atmosphere didn't reach, a lone man waited.

The cavernous room he waited in had chains of various lengths dangling from the ceiling, many of them with hooked ends giving the place an uncomfortable resemblance to a meat locker. But meat lockers tended to be very cold, and this room was heated, warmed by the blazing furnace that made up one wall of the room.

His name was Ferid Momoe; a tall, thin, spindly man, the ragged, tattered clothing he wore with gloves, a wide brimmed hat, and scarf over the lower part of his face made it hard to deduce just what sort of Shadow he was, but he was clearly not human.

This ominous room was, in fact, only part of a research laboratory he had access to, the intent of the furnace being to dispose of failed experiments. Not that it didn't have other uses.

There was a loud grating sound and the stone doors leading to the outside started to open, giving access to three Shadows. The first one to enter could pass for a human woman, albeit tall and muscular, except her pale white skin was inked with odd blue sigils. These were visible on every part of her skin that her brown embroidered toga didn't cover, including one on her face. Her hair was raven-black, and her eyes were deep, blue orbs. She carried a large, leather bag with her.

As she came in, the doors opened wider, allowing access to two more Shadows pushing a gurney with a cadaver on it. Or rather, one of them was pushing it, the other was a small gremlin-like Shadow riding on top of the cadaver's chest. The small gremlin had exceptionally long, pointed ears, and skin the color and consistency of a prune. He wore leather pants and a hood (no shirt or shoes) and carried a clipboard under his right arm and bottle almost as large as he was under the left one.

The one pushing the gurney was a large, brutish type, sort of like a centaur but with a lower body resembling that of an elephant. His human half had the same tough, grey skin of his lower half, very bulky and muscular, and his head was completely bald, with two upward-pointing tusks in his lower jaw.

"Any trouble with the coroner this time?" asked Momoe.

"Actually, chief," said the small gremlin, "this was easier than all the other times." He hopped off the gurney, landing in front of Momoe. "Guy said this one was giving him the creeps."

"Giving ME the creeps too!" exclaimed the elephant-centaur. "His heart is still beatin' here!"

"Yeah, the coroner said the guy's pulse is even stronger than it should be, chief," said the gremlin. "This guy ain't right."

Momoe took the clipboard and started to go over the information on it. "Ironic," he said. He looked up at the elephant centaur. "Loxoda warriors like yourself boast about wrestling rhinos and hippopotami, killing them by breaking their spines, and yet this makes you squeamish?"

He pulled the sheet off the gurney, exposing Ghulertas' headless body. All three of his henchmen recoiled from it, the female Shadow struggling to keep from throwing up. Momoe easily took the leather sack from her. Despite being headless, the arms, legs, and torso were secured to the gurney with thick leather straps and iron shackles.

"He's not dead, not yet anyway. A half-troll inherits the regenerative powers of their troll-side, but in most cases, their mixed heritage dilutes it and lessens its effectiveness."

"Uh…" started the loxoda.

"Trolls got super-healing powers," said the gremlin, "but half-trolls only half as good."

"Most of the time," corrected Momoe, "but in this case, the naturally strong constitution from his dwarven father enhances his trollish regenerative factor a great deal. The reason for the enhanced heartbeat is his system trying to restore him. In a week or so, it might be able to restore his head."

He untied the twine holding the bag shut, and withdrew the rather grisly contents, the slaver's actual head. Unlike the body, it showed no signs of life at all.

"As amusing as that may be, we don't have a week. Be ready."

He held the severed head to the neck stump, and the body tensed, its fists clenching. "But if you three are truly that squeamish, I suggest you look away now."

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In her bedroom at the penthouse in Chicago, Nichole finally woke up. Ugh, no wonder I have a headache, she mused.

She pulled herself up, noting that it was grey, rainy, and dreary outside her window. She didn't bother keeping her eyes closed to concentrate - this dream was one she wouldn't soon forget. Fumbling on her bedside table, she found her mobile phone and hit the redial button. Then she lay back with her head on the pillow as it rang.

"Yeah, Dolores?" she asked. "Right, tell Hank and the chief I'm in." She listened again. "Dentist?" she asked, then listened for another two minutes. "Okay, okay, three o'clock."

She listened again, then made a strange face. "What? Wait, slow down." She sat up again and scrambled to get the notebook and pen, knocking over the clock radio as she grabbed them. "Pastrami… Pumpernickel, horseradish… On Lava Ridge…" She wrote down the odd request Cassandra had made and listened further. "Yeah, I think so. I'll call later."

She flopped onto bed and looked at the ceiling with a grunt. The dentist, not the place she wanted to be. Today was a day she'd much rather have spent drinking hot chocolate and taking a bubble bath, maybe with scented bath oils and relaxing music.

Still, right now, Cauldron did seem kind of welcoming...

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On the surface, the two-on-two duel continued.

"Come on, Barclay," said Maddie, "we're getting bored here."

"Okay, okay," said the fenrir, "just give me two minutes here."

Clearly Barclay hadn't thoroughly read the text on all his cards before choosing them and was trying to decide which card in his hand of four to use.

"You said that two minutes ago," said Francis.

"Uhm, uh," said Barclay. "I'll activate, uhm, no can't use that, maybe…"

Sypha tapped one of her hooves on the pavement impatiently. "Barclay, you're embarrassing me."

"Okay, okay!" he shouted, "Uh… I'll use… Pot of Desires!"

Using the card caused two separate annoying laughs to sound over the field, and a weird looking jar with the Pot of Greed's face on one side and the Pot of Avarice on the other. Its two mouths made a throaty guffaw and it shattered, as Barclay pulled cards from his deck, a total of ten, about a third of what remained of it.

"All right, I'll put these away," he said, and placed them inside his jacket, "and then draw twice."

He cheered up substantially when he saw what he drew. "Oh yeah, this is much better! Watch THIS, Sypha!" He played another Spell Card, Soul Release.

"Banishing more cards, huh?" she asked. "Thrilling."

Five cards appeared over him - including Two-Headed Behemoth, Mad Sword Beast, and Giant Rex - and crumbled into dust. "Oh, the good part is coming! I flip-summon…"

"Uh, Barclay," sighed Sypha, "you just banished your Giant Rex…"

"Wha… oh, uh, yeah. I… knew that. When Giant Rex is banished, I get to Special Summon it, and it gets 200 Attack Points for each banished Dinosaur, so come on out, big guy!"

Calling this monster a "big guy" was something of an understatement, as it was more than twice as large as either of the other Dinosaurs. Despite the name, it wasn't a T-Rex, having the sail on its back more associated with the Spinosaurus. Regardless of biological nomenclature, it was fixing for a fight, throwing its head upwards and letting out a mighty roar. (2,400 ATK)

"Woah, realistic," he said with a gulp. "Now, uhm… Right, I'll flip-summon Invader of the Throne!"

Flipping his set monster faced up did indeed reveal a throne, occupied by a sultry-looking, raven-haired woman in a red dress. (1,300 ATK)

"And via her effect, I can swap her for one of my opponent'smonsters, so I'll trade her for… The Tricky!"

As he said, the Spellcaster and Warrior both dematerialized and then rematerialized on the spots each had been before.

"Nice move…," said Maddie.

"Well, you're gonna love this one, I'll sacrifice The Tricky to summon Golden Homunculus!"

The Tricky dissolved again, and a monster almost as big as Giant Rex rose in its place, a huge rocky, bulky golem with oversized arms and feet. (1,500 ATK)

"And for every banished card we have, it gains 300 points!" (5,700 ATK)

"Okay, NOW you're getting somewhere!" laughed Maddie.

"You like that?" One of his set cards opened. "A Rival Appears. Now I can choose one of your monsters, and Special Summon one with the same Level, so because Injection Fairy Lily is Level 3…"

Before he could finish making his announcement, the Trap Card was consumed in a fiery blaze of hellfire, and a burning portal appeared in front of him. "Uh…" he started.

The wailing and moaning of damned souls came from the hellmouth as something started to rise from it, a monstrous abomination with a crimson, armored hide, with demonic wings, claws, and a long, barbed tail.

Gren Maju Da Eiza made no sound, it simply gave Barclay a slight aside glance… He gulped… (5,600 ATK)

"That monster ain't right…" said Sypha.

"Oh-kay," said Barclay, "kinda… unnerving here. I'll… I'm gonna attack, Golden Homunculus, attack Iron Blacksmith Kotetsu!"

"I don't think so!" shouted Maddie, and one of her three Traps lifted. "Activate Trap, Zero Gravity! This forces all monsters on the field to switch Modes!"

"As if!" said Barclay, his expression showing far more confidence now. "I use Solemn Judgment!"

Thunder rolled as his Counter Trap opened, and his Life Point counter reduced from 2,600 to 1,300. "I'll pay half my Life Points to eradicate your Trap!" Lightning flashed, striking the Zero Gravity card, and shattering it.

"Now, as I was saying, attack Kotetsu with Golden Harvest!"

Golden Homunculus threw up its arms and thrust them forward, sending a volley of golden shards at the Iron Blacksmith. Maddie tapped her Disk and activated a second Trap.

"Try this on for size, Mirror Wall!" A gleaming wall of glass sprung up between her monster and Barclay's. "It cuts the attack of your monster in half!" (2,850 ATK)

"Meh, big deal."

"This big enough?" said Sypha. "I've got a Trap too, Magic Arm Shield!"

As she used her Trap, Kotetsu held out his left wrist; a bronze crest shield appeared on it, and then the front sprang open like a hinged box. A pair of "lazy tongs" sprung from within, tethered to a pantograph mechanism. The tongs grabbed hold of Giant Rex by the collar.

"This Trap lets me grab your monster and force Homunculus to attack it!"

Kotetsu grunted and struggled, eventually managing to lift the much larger monster off its feet, swinging it towards Maddie and forcing it into the path of Golden Homunculus' stream. Its Attack Score was lowered to its base of 2,000, and both Sypha and Maddie grunted a little as the attack blew it to pieces.

Maddie's Life Points fell to 1,650. "We took some damage there, since it was on our side, but we're still standing."

"Not for long," chuckled Barclay, "cause you need 2,000 Life Points to use her effect," he pointed towards Lily, "and Gren Maju da Eiza still has an attack! Chaos Flames!"

The Red Lotus Beast starred Lily in the face without blinking, and the petite Spellcaster trembled, as she became transfixed by the demon's lethal chaos phage...

Then Maddie used her last Trap Card. "I use Gift of the Mystical Elf! It gives my team 300 Life Points per monster on the field, and there are five!"

The soft form of Mystical Elf appeared behind her, gently chanting, and lifting Maddie's Life Point counter 3,150. Lily's expression changed to a more confident one as she shifted her grip on the huge syringe and prepared to meet the attack.

"Crap, he's toast," sighed Barclay.

"And so are you," laughed Sypha, "because I have one more Trap too, Rising Energy!" It opened, and she slipped the last card from her hand into the discard slot of her Disk. "By tossing one card, Lily gains even 1,500 more points! Time to get your shots, Maju!"

As the Chaos Fiend attacked, Lily held the needle over her head, and as the Mirror Wall appeared again and reduced Gren Maju's Attack Score to 2,800, Maddie and Sypha's Life Points reduced to 1,150, and Lily's Attack Score soared to 1,900 and then to 4,900. She stabbed downward, through the Fiend, blasting it to pieces while knocking Barclay and Francis off their feet.

"YAY! We did it!" cheered Sypha. She and Maddie hugged and leapt in joy.

"Yeah, girls," groaned Francis, "you sure did…"

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The muscular female Shadow was indeed covering her eyes, while the loxoda was watching as best he could. The gremlin, however, showed little queasiness, drinking from its large bottle - a magical device that contained about five times as much liquid as it seemed able to, in this case rum - as Momoe did his work.

As he held the severed head close to the neck, the torso's hands clenched and the rest of it fidgeted and squirmed. Arteries and tendons started to slither out of the neck, slowly at first, but then quicker, grafting themselves to the equivalents in the head. Momoe let go and stood back, watching as the vertebrate and spine repaired itself and the half-troll's blood started to flow into the head and brain. After several minutes, the eyes started to tremble, sweat started to bead on the forehead, and drool started to come out of its mouth. Ghulertas started to grumble and grunt, like someone deep asleep.

Finally, the eyes opened, and he gasped like someone would waking from a horrible nightmare.

"What the fuck?" he growled. "Where am I, where…" He grunted louder when he discovered he was tied down.

Then he turned his head enough to see Momoe, who coldly said, "Welcome back, Ghulertas."

The half-troll's expression changed from what could be described as "furious angry" to "annoyed angry", and he muttered, "Crap, for a minute there, I was almost happy to be alive."

"You're only physically alive, Ghulertas." Momoe held the clipboard so the slaver could see it. "Officially and legally, you are dead. The coroner confirmed your death by beheading, and your corpse was incinerated at 3:40 PM, local time. At least that's what this official report says."

"So, I'm in Hell then?" growled Ghulertas. "Funny, I never figured the Devil to be so cordial."

The strange woman spoke for the first time, "I'd cut the attitude if I were you, Gully, you're in enough trouble."

"Damn it, Esula," he snarled, and started to strain against the bindings, "I told you never to call me that!"

Esula frowned, then looked him in the eye. "No, NO! I'm sorry!" he pleaded.

Then she grabbed him by the chin as she looked him directly in the eye, a dark stare he was unable to look away from. Then he screamed, her gaze literally piercing into his dark soul…

This was how her people, the davnati, nourished themselves. Negative emotions like fear, rage, and hate were their bread and wine, and siphoning it from one with a lot of those emotions like she was now a horrific experience for the victim. While it only lasted a few seconds, the nightmarish draining was like a terrifying waking nightmare to Ghulertas.

"I'm sorry…" he sobbed.

"How bout we just call you a douchebag then?" asked the gremlin. "That better?"

Esula let go of him and Momoe continued, as if nothing had happened. "As Esula said, I'd watch your tongue, Ghulertas, lest the information on this report become literally true." He nodded his head to the incinerator behind him. "I should point out 3:40 PM is ten minutes from now."

The half-troll groaned again. He looked briefly at Esula again and realized how much of her draining could be done in ten minutes. "Uh huh, yeah. So, this is the old 'offer you can't refuse' routine, right?"

"Truth be told, we took a vote on it, and it was not unanimous. Quite a few of the Cagewrights were content to let you burn. But the majority rules here, and that majority was more willing to forgive, providing you give us a good reason to."

"Next time let me die with dignity," grumbled Ghulertas.

"Actually, my friend, should you agree to my offer, letting you live is only the first benefit involved."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"What is this place?" growled Ghulertas.

With Momoe leading them, his three henchmen had wheeled the angry half-troll into this odd part of the complex. The annoying rum gremlin - a race known to be a nuisance in many of the seedy taverns he had frequented - was riding on his chest again, still drinking from that bottle of liquor that it didn't seem inclined to share.

When it hopped off, Ghulertas strained to look up, finding himself in a place that, at first glance, seemed like a tattoo parlor. The walls were adorned with sheets of complex tattoo patterns, the type of full-body designs that the Yakuza were so fond of. But those weren't the only things adorning the walls. There were also anatomical sketches of humans and many varieties of Shadowkind, of both genders, some with odd anatomical oddities. One of them showed what looked like an orc with the build of an ogre, with four arms, only two of the arms ending in hands; the lower right arm had a metal axe-head in place of the hand, while the upper-left one terminated in what looked like a shotgun.

What is this place, a mad scientist's lab?

The gremlin leapt off his chest, and announced, "Dr. Tramell, we're here! We brought you the patient!"

"Tramell? Who -"

He got the answer fast, to his regret. Dr. Tramell was a giant bug. Specifically, a giant mantis, although it had eight limbs rather than six; four were arms (the upper two with sharp, knife-like blades and the lower two with claws in the general shape of hands) and four legs.

She was a xixchil, one of the most dreaded and most respected humanoid races of Shadow. These odd creatures were craftsmen of a unique type, who viewed the mortal body - their own and that of others - the way one would view a house. A simple, newly built house could function as a place to live, but was only a blank, boring shell and only truly became a home after you remodeled and redesigned it to fit your specific tastes and desires. Thus, they were masters of body-altering surgery, anything from tattoos and piercings to the most elaborate of cosmetic surgery and "modifications". Tramell herself had several tattoos and gem inlays on her exoskeleton, although Ghulertas had no idea what most of them were supposed to represent.

"Calm down, big guy," said the gremlin, "the doc here isn't the type who eats her clients. At least not usually."

"Mmm, yes, bad for business," said Tramell with a nod, "at least with paying customers."

"Is this really necessary?" asked Ghulertas.

"As I attempted to explain before," started Momoe, "your brash acts have caused everyone in Cauldron to see you as some boogeyman who has come crawling out of the sewers to grab their children, which I might add, was a justified point of view. But slaver and kidnapper you may be, they also believed you to be a very mortal one who perished under the executioner's blade. If you are even sighted in Cauldron, that assumption would be doubted, and they'd assume some child-eating demon was haunting the streets. Thus, this is necessary."

"Is it too late to choose the incinerator?" he moaned.

"Mmm, calm down, calm down," said Tramell, with her mandibles clicking in anticipation as she looked over the half-troll. "Mmm, once I'm done, even your own mother won't recognize you."

Ghulertas snarled and tried to sit up and grab at the xixchil, but the chains holding him down were too strong.

"Uh, not the best thing to say there, doc," said the gremlin.

"Mmm, oopsie, my mistake. Mmm, so what needs to be changed here? Hair color? Eye color? Weight? Height? Gender?"

"GENDER?" shouted Ghulertas.

"Mmm, yes, in fact given your unique biological structure a change of gender might make a full species shift easier. Mmm, perhaps elf or gargoyle? Mmm, although if you wanted the wings to actually work for that I'd have to reduce body fat and bone density, restructure the digestive tract -"

Ghulertas was now truly starting to panic. "Get me out of this thing!" he screamed and started struggling against the chains.

He felt a sharp pain in his arm, which - as he would later be told, was Tramell making a small stab with the sharp finger of one of her lower claws, which was envenomed with a potent anesthetic. Ghulertas felt nauseous, and only managed to groan, "Damn you, Ferid," as it started to work.

"Uhm, not to disparage your skill, Kate," said Momoe, "but we're on a limited schedule and have something specific in mind."

He handed the surgeon a slip of paper with written (not by him) instructions. All the xixchil needed was one glance to commit it to memory.

"Mmm, very well," she said, "let us begin…"

"Are you sure this is safe?" moaned Ghulertas, as he started to lose consciousness.

"Mmm, positive, this has no risk of complications at all. Mmm, absolutely, positively, almost no risk, in most cases."

"Damn you, Fer…"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Well, I guess I'm not ready to do this for a living."

Barclay and the two Shadowchasers were at a table inside the now-busy tavern, Sypha having gone to use the lady's room.

"Barclay, come on," said Maddie, "you did better than I did the first time I used a Disk, and I didn't have a crowd watching me."

"And, here we are, folks," said a jovial voice. The bartender placed four mugs and a plate with club sandwiches on the table.

"Uh, thanks Gueno," said Francis, "but we didn't order sandwiches."

"On the house!" he said with a laugh. "You guys are bringing in more customers than I've had in months!"

Barclay waited for Gueno to leave, and then sighed, "Same old same old, that guy will do anything for free publicity."

"Barclay, come on," said Maddie, "don't feel so bad. You just jumped the gun on Solemn Judgement there, it's an easy mistake to make. Here."

She pushed a card on the table towards him. "Eater of Millions?" he asked. He curiously picked it up.

"Pretty good for a deck that runs on banishing cards," added Francis. "Oh, and here's a good one too."

He handed another card to Darvin, a Spell Card like one he had used in the duel. "Pot of Extravagance?"

"It's a lot less risky than losing a fourth of your deck. All you need to do is find a few Extra Deck commons, and you're all set."

"Gee, if I knew the losers are getting so many gifts, I wouldn't have tried so hard to win!"

Sypha sat down, reaching for her drink. "Oh, we've got one for you too," said Maddie, "since I knew you loved this card."

She handed the card to Sypha and the hamadryad let out a small squeal of delight, almost choking on her beer when trying to swallow. "You're giving me Lily?" she gasped.

"You know what they say about girls like her, Sypha, she looks soft and cute, but can strike with a blow that's hard, quick, and deadly. Building a deck around her is easy if you set your mind to it."

"So, uh," said Barclay, "are you folks going to be involved in the Flood Festival?"

"Uhm," said Francis. "Didn't really… think about it. Are you?"

"Meh, helping run a small game booth. Swindlestones. Maybe make a few -" He noticed Maddie was a little confused. "You know, Swindlestones, dice?" He lifted his left hand, showing he was holding three dice between four of his fingers.

Sypha rolled her eyes again. "Barclay, come on, stop showing off."

"Not very good at dice games," answered Maddie.

"Come on, I'll show you. It's not Duel Monsters, but it's not hard to learn."

He got up and nodded towards another table. Maddie turned to Francis, shrugged, and then followed him.

"Anyway," continued Sypha to Francis, "the Flood Festival has quite a few athletic events, and I think Gueno will have sign-up sheets here in two days. Mostly-"

"I hear there's a drinking contest too!" said a cheery female voice behind them. "This seat taken?"

"Jil?" he asked.

It was Jil, all right. While she wasn't wearing the makeup or harlequin outfit now, there was no mistaking the leader (he assumed) of the Last Laugh. Without waiting for a "yes" or "no", she pulled up the chair and sat down with the back of the chair in front of her, something Francis had always found annoying.

"Who -" started Sypha.

"Long story," interrupted Francis. He was, of course, suspicious, but then, it was hard to simply tell her to leave, as the tip she had given him about Dakota had certainly paid off. He just asked, "What now, Jil?"

"What, like I can't just come here and have a drink?" she purred. "Silly." She looked at the Duel Disks on the table. "Actually, I think I'm here for the same reason this place is packed. Never figured you two mainlanders for conjurers, much less the type who taught it."

"What, you -" started Sypha.

"It's not magic, Jil, it's -"

Francis didn't exactly know how to finish that. He'd been in enough Shadow Duels to know there was a lot more to Duel Monsters than a simple card game.

"It's like a… simulation," he finally said. "But more like illusion than conjuration."

Maybe I should consider taking Fawley's classes, he thought.

"Yo, waitress!" called Jil. She snapped her fingers in the air to get the server's attention. "Bring three rakatinajo specials here! With ice!"

"Uh, I really shouldn't -" started Francis.

"I'm buying," she added. "And more sandwiches! Deviled ham and horseradish this time!"

I am really going to regret this, thought the Shadowchaser.

And we'll end on that note.

If you liked Barclay and Sypha, they'll be around, but the important thing is, next chapter, you'll finally discover exactly WHY Jenya is running the cathedral. In case you forgot, she's still an "acting" high priest, and the reason for this will soon be known.

And there WILL be more duels, seeing as Maddie and Francis seem to be starting a trend here. Starting next chapter, we'll I have a proper one, I promise that.

"Prognostication" comes next.