Shadowchasers: Flood Season

by 0ccam's Razor

Cauldron's annual Flood Festival is almost here, and the city is about to become a place of revelry, carousing, and merrymaking! Could this occasion even have a dark side? The third part of "Shackled City"!

2. Concern

Hello everyone! And to any Mexican and/or Hispanic Americans reading, Happy Cinco de Mayo!

Speaking of which, we have a new chapter, which I figured I'd post before going out for enchiladas and margaritas, and with this chapter, I'm trying something new, see if you can notice before the end.

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Flood Season

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Chapter Two

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Concern

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As the afternoon started to wear on into evening, more and more Cauldronites started to come into the Coy Nixie. Sypha had moved to a wooden stool at a corner close to Francis' table and had donned a green volto mask. She was playing a soft, wordless melody on her mandolin. Occasionally she sang with the melody, but while the words were enchantingly beautiful, they seemed to be a dialect of Fey that he couldn't understand. He didn't know what the mask was for, but he didn't feel it was polite to ask.

"So, what is this stuff again?" he asked Jil. The steamy beverage seemed like spiced rum mixed with coffee and had come topped with cream.

"Kakatinajo," she answered. "It's like Irish coffee except its Slavic. Well, Slavic giantish."

Francis was a little offset at how lucid she was acting now, almost like taking the jester costume off had changed her entire personality. But was it an act then, he thought, or is it an act now?

Sipping the drink, he added, "I didn't even know there were that many Slavic giants."

"Mostly a few small communities of cloud giants," she replied, "one of them has a resort over Kazakhstan."

"Wait, over Kazakhstan? Cloud giants? You mean -"

She nodded. "The Herver clan has a whole resort built on a cloud, kind of like that place they have over Arcadia. Bunch of snobs, the price is a tourist trap, and admission simply for the shuttle that flies up there is enough for two week's stay at the best hotel at Nur-Sultan. That's how they make sure the 'hoi-polloi' never bothers them, only rich folks can afford the place." She sipped her beverage before going on. "I got a taste for this stuff a few years ago when I was working there."

"Working there? As what?" Giants - even the more civilized ones - weren't exactly known for accepting job applications from humans, or for that matter Shadows without at least some giant blood in them.

"Well, I guess technically I was indentured to work there."

There was a long silence. The more you discover about Shadowkind, he thought, the more you realize how much you don't know.

"You've had an… eventful life," he finally said.

"I'm a shadar-kai, Francis," she said. "I've been everywhere." Her tone was a little glum.

"I don't follow…"

"Shadar-kai live by merit, Francis. You want to be someone to them; you must try to stand out. Sometimes you try too hard to stand out, and it doesn't work as well as you planned, and the only reason you 'stand out' is because you end up looking like an idiot. Sometimes it happens more than once."

She drank deeply and finished the beverage. "Guess that's why I came to Cauldron. When a whole city is full of weirdos, nobody notices when you look like an idiot." Then she suddenly turned cheery again. "Yo! Another kakatinajo here!"

"Make it two," added Francis.

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At a table nearby, Barclay and Maddie were in the middle of a round of Swindlestones, a game that Barclay admitted wasn't as thrilling as Duel Monsters but was far older. Given how cheap the materials were, it had been a pastime for Cauldronites with a knack for gambling - or those willing to press their luck at it - for centuries. A game that depended on the ability to bluff and tell when your opponent was bluffing, Maddie later referred to it as "bullshit with dice", and it did have similarities.

The rules, as Barclay explained, were as follows. Both players start with a number of dice (either three, four, or five) and the round starts with each player rolling them in a way to keep them hidden from their opponent. (Right now, Maddie and Barclay were using the tavern's menu as a screen.) Then the turn player would make a guess on how many of the results of both players' dice was a certain number. His opponent could then either "call" that guess if he believed it wasn't true or make a guess of either a larger amount of the same number, or a guess of a larger number.

For example, if one player guessed there were two threes, his opponent could guess there were three threes, or that there were any amount of fours, fives, or sixes. Or he could "call" and declare the "two threes" guess incorrect. Calling a guess wrong if it's right or having your wrong guess called results in losing one of your dice and the loser is the one who is eventually left with no dice left.

Fortunately for Barclay, as Maddie was picking up on it quickly, they were wagering little more than potato chips and beer nuts.

"You catch on fast," he said.

"Thanks, Edgar always said the same thing. I mean -" She was interrupted by a loud, rumbling noise from her stomach and a realization that she hadn't had much to eat all day. "So, uh, what do they have to eat here?"

"Now that you mention it, I'm hungry too." Barclay rubbed his chin and looked towards the bar, then looked at Maddie snidely. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

She held out her hand, gripping three dice between her fingers. "Loser buys dinner?"

"You're on!"

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The next morning…

Francis was in the cathedral commissary. A now-cold bowl of cereal (that he had eaten only two bites of) was next to four cups that had, until about five minutes ago, held regular coffee with neither cream nor sugar. As he clutched his head, which was pounding from the hangover he now had, he told himself, again and again, When am I ever going to learn?

"Cheer up, Brother Francis, I have just the thing here."

He turned to see Illewyn, who was carrying a tray holding a variety of ingredients from the kitchen; had his head not been pounding, he might have laughed when he saw what they were. Bottles and cans contained tomato juice, tabasco sauce, Worcestershire sauce, and vinegar, one egg, salt and pepper, a cocktail shaker, and a short glass. These were all ingredients for a "prairie oyster", a well-known home remedy for a hangover he had tried many times.

"Illewyn, seriously, I've tried those hangover cures before, I'm pretty sure they were invented by jerks who liked tricking their friends into making themselves throw up."

"Actually, Francis," she said, "this one has something extra."

She started to mix the ingredients, other than the egg, into the shaker, and Francis noticed there was something on the tray he didn't recognize, a small cup made of ivory covered with odd elven sigils. It seemed to only contain water. She added that last, saying, "All it needs to work is Bugman's mug!"

"Bug-who?"

The grugach closed the lid and started to shake it. "Possibly the most loathsome, lecherous, hedonist of a wizard ever to come out of Colfer Academy, but he could be very generous at times." She broke the egg into the glass, carefully doing so as to not break the yolk. Finally, she poured the liquid from the shaker over it.

"Go on, I mean, even if it doesn't work, you won't be any worse off than you are now."

"Can I have that in writing?" he asked. He picked up the glass and looked at it; it looked and smelled much like any other hangover cure he had tried - as in, awful - but then, she had a point. He held his nose and drank it in one gulp.

He was hit by a feeling best described by being kicked in the gut by someone wearing steel shoes, but to his surprise, it passed quickly.

"You know, that wasn't as bad as I…"

Then the full effect of Bugman's mug hit, and he made a crazy face that made Illewyn giggle a little and wish she had a camera. He fell over on his back, his eyes opened wide and staring at the ceiling.

"Morning everyone!" Maddie seemed far cheerier than Francis had been as she rushed into the commissary. "We got… What's with him?"

"He'll be fine in about five minutes," replied Illewyn.

"Uh, well, this was in my room when I woke up!"

Maddie was holding two envelopes, which had clearly been sent via magical methods. One was postmarked from Shadowchaser headquarters, containing Dolores' memo. The other, however, was a larger envelope, and looked far more formal and important. It was sealed shut with wax, stamped by a signet ring that had made an impression of the letters "SL".

"That's the Lord Governor's seal!" exclaimed Illewyn.

"Who?"

"Lord Governor Sevven Lamour! He's the…'' She stopped, as if struggling to find the right word. "He's the ruler of Cauldron!"

"WHO?" exclaimed Francis. He sat up, barely even noticing that the drink had actually worked, his headache all but disappeared.

Maddie nervously handed him the envelope, and Illewyn continued to explain. "Lord Governor Lamour is head of the parliamentary counsel that rules Cauldron, and some claim he's blood related to Suramar Spellmason himself. He's pretty much the highest authority on the island."

"So why would one of Cauldron's bigwigs send us this?" Francis looked the letter over for a minute or two, then carefully broke the wax seal with his finger and opened it.

Inside were two items, one of them a smaller envelope, sealed the more common way, with a stamp and an address already assigned to Cauldron's town hall. The other item was a scroll, handwritten, with old-fashioned quill pen. Coffee and Havan entered the room, and he simply nodded to acknowledge them as he started to read.

It read,

To the Honored Guests of Cauldron,

Greetings and Salutations. I hope you are finding your stay in our fair city enjoyable, and hope you are planning to remain through our annual Flood Festival, which should be in full swing within the next week. Hopefully. As you no doubt know, the weather is difficult to predict.

However, at the moment, I am putting a great deal more of my personal effort and funds into the conclusion of the festivities. Specifically, the Demonskarr Masquerade Ball, which we intend to hold on the second Saturday of December, come Hell or high water. (Ahem, my apologies, that is an old joke around here.) It is my honor and my pleasure to cordially invite the members of your admirable group to attend.

Now, I know you may have plans or obligations on the date in question and should none of your group be able to attend, I request returning the enclosed envelope, which I believe has been stamped and self-addressed.

If you choose to attend, however, the envelope contains the tickets required for entry. Also, I should stress there is a dress code of sorts, but that has been covered. The envelope also contains some instructions for tailor drafts. Simply take them to Bobbin's Loom on the uptown end of Ash Avenue, preferably at least a week before the ball, and they should handle the rest.

I simply ask that you bring those odd devices you have been using the past few days, as we have big plans for this game of yours. Hopefully, we can end this celebration on the highest note in decades!

I look forward to seeing you at the Cabaret Arcana at the designated date and time,

Regards.

Lord Governor Sevven Lamour

"Well, at least he didn't send a form…" The three acolytes looked completely gobsmacked. "...letter. What?"

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After two cups apiece of Coffee's odd brew, the three acolytes took the two Shadowchasers outside the main entrance of the cathedral. Once there, Havan pointed upward, to the east, towards a structure both had seen - it was hard to miss - but never inquired about.

"That is Cabaret Arcana."

It was indeed a grandiose palace, seemingly made from pure white marble, the towers and buttresses suggesting early Renaissance architecture.

Havan further explained that the true name of the building was something in dwarven that roughly translated to "Magnificent Gateway of Light that Stands on the Threshold between the Mortal World and the Halls of the Soul Forger". Naturally, it was designed by Spellmason himself, the title a clear indication of his narcissism, but nowadays most Cauldronites used the name of the most well-known part of it.

Of course, extraordinarily little was known of the interior at all. The Cabaret was the Mount Olympus of Cauldron, an exclusive club for the nobility of the city, which most citizens could only dream of seeing. Usually, it was members-only, non-members only allowed by invitation, which was rarely given. Although, the Demonskarr Ball was known to be the event where most invitations were given out.

"So, it's a high-class place where the upper crust goes to eat too much, get drunk, gamble, and act stupid?"

"Mmm, probably," said Havan, laughing a little at Maddie's deduction, "but the food and drink is high-quality, the gambling has extremely high stakes, and they can act stupid without any witnesses, usually."

She continued by saying that given the name "cabaret" she assumed it had live entertainment, and that the Demonskarr Ball was an annual event held at the end of the Flood Season, one which tended to be their biggest night.

"There are quite a few rumors surrounding the Demonskarr Ball," said Coffee, ominously. "Some say they invite civilians because there is some sort of... ritual involved, one to 'appease' the gods and prevent the Flood Festival of the next year from turning into a disaster."

"Coffee, please," said Havan.

"Don't mind him," added Illewyn, "crazy stories like that circulate every year.

"It's not as absurd as one might think," said Francis. "The Wicker Man, ever see it?"

"Uhm, no."

"Well don't, it's terrible." He used his finger to carefully open the second envelope, noting to himself that if they decided to RSVP in the negative, it would be easy to simply close it with some scotch tape.

Inside were four tickets, all gilded with green lettering, the words "Demonskarr Ball" written in small letters, and "ADMIT ONE" in larger letters. There were also four RSVP cards, also with stamps. Finally, it had eight forms, with printed text, produced either by a ditto or lithograph machine. Each required an applicant to fill out physical features, such as height, weight, waist, neck, and so on, clearly intended to be given to a tailor for a custom-made job, the name of the tailor listed as Bobbin's Loom, as the letter had said. Four were intended for a men's suit, four for a woman's dress.

Well, nothing suspicious here, he thought.

"Does this mean we're going?" asked Maddie.

"I'm afraid not to," replied Francis. "If someone is planning foul play here and we refuse to go, they might find someone who will."

"Oh, definitely," said Coffee. "Three-hundred years ago, an invitation was made to a hundred civilians, all of them young and unmarried, the invitations bluntly warning them that if they choose to attend, the celebration would end with them raped, tortured, and murdered. Only ten invitees were too scared to come, the rest thinking it was a joke or that even if it weren't, being allowed to attend for even a few hours would be worth it."

He noticed everyone was looking at him funny. "Uh, yeah, I guess that would be another of those 'crazy stories'."

Francis read the letter once more and then looked at the tickets. "Four tickets, huh?" He looked at the three acolytes and they shook their heads. "We're going to need two more guests…"

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Three days later, 9AM.

Lines of morning sunlight streamed into the common room of the Coy Nixie. The sprawling chamber with its dozens of tables was mostly empty at this hour, with a few local tradespeople and laborers, most stopping for coffee or juice on the way to work, and a sprinkling of others enjoying a late breakfast. It was quiet, subdued, with little of the noise that characterized the place in the evenings. Sypha was at her spot in the corner where she was the other night, again wearing her odd mask and playing her slow, haunting tune, as if she had never stopped.

While the food at the cathedral wasn't exactly bad, it wasn't remarkably interesting, and this morning Maddie and Francis had come for a croissant, orange juice, and some actual oatmeal. Maddie was liberally pouring brown sugar over her own cereal, while Francis was concentrating on a new letter he had gotten two nights ago.

Hey!

I just talked to Red, and she said she'd be happy to come. I couldn't get Jalal to approve of two more VIP tickets (mainly because I didn't have the nerve to ask) but I was able to call in some favors from the City of Glass and we should be getting into the port of Kingfisher Hollow a little after midday on Friday.

See you soon!

Sonya

And today was Friday. It seemed the long-term preparations were being made. Francis was eager to see Red Feather again (most male members of the Shadowchasers were) and Sonya, well… Suffice to say that in a place like Cauldron (which Jil had, he recalled, claimed was "full of weirdos"), someone like her could be a valuable asset.

Still, he was still worried about the Cabaret itself, going over some information they had put into a notebook in the past three days. While he could find nobody willing to confirm Coffee's "crazy stories" (at least anything past "knowing someone who knows someone who can confirm them") he couldn't find anyone who could debunk them either.

"Come on, Francis, cheer up. Not every big, fancy place has a dark secret."

"All I know Maddie, is if it does, it's good at keeping it a secret. I mean, does this place even have any employees? How can the place be staffed without a staff?"

"Lots of ways."

"Sypha!" he exclaimed. Francis was startled by the hamadryad's voice next to him, having not even noticed her music had stopped, nor that she had sat down next to him.

"I mean, if they're a bunch of tightwads, they might just have unseen servants do all the work."

Sypha made an odd somatic gesture towards a table where the customers had just left, and the used dishes, glasses and silverware were picked up by unseen hands, then carried them ten feet to the busboy's cart and deposited them in the basin.

"Thank you, Sypha!" he exclaimed.

"You're welcome!"

"I doubt these folks are 'tightwads', Sypha," said Maddie.

"There are other ways. Tasked genies, summoned elementals, minor golems, undead…" Taking note of their reaction to that last one, she added, "Okay, maybe not at formal parties, but you have no idea how many things hedge mages can build golems out of. I knew this guy who was head of a very big fruit importing firm who held a birthday party for his daughter, and -"

"BROTHER FRANCIS! SISTER MADELYN!"

The polite yet frantic address to the two Shadowchasers came from Havan, who had appeared at the door of the tavern quite out of breath. The bariaur was distressed, clearly, and in fact looked to be on the brink of tears as she rushed to their table, her hooves clumsily knocking over another table.

"Havan, what's wrong?" asked Maddie. "Here, here…" She started to pour orange juice from the pitcher into a glass, but the acolyte instead grabbed the entire pitcher, drinking the contents in loud, long gulps, spilling about half of it.

"Thank Cuthbert I found you," she finally said, gasping a little to catch her breath. "Jenya sent me to find you. She wants you to return to the Cathedral immediately!" She shot a quick glance at Sypha and frowned slightly.

"What, what now?" asked Francis. He had never seen the acolyte like this, it wasn't like her at all. "Is someone hurt?"

The acolyte looked at Sypha again, but the hamadryad's expression did not change from a neutral detachment. "Something has happened... it's Selman, he's… he's in trouble. Please... I have two horses outside, they can bring you there in a few minutes, he…"

"Selman? You mean the High Priest?"

Jenya - the acting High Priest of the Cathedral of St. Cuthbert - had only mentioned her superior a few times. High Priest Selman, the true head of this church, was supposedly in Calcutta, helping found a new branch of St. Cuthbert's House, and Jenya had assured he would return in time for the Flood Festival. Francis had once half-jokingly claimed that he doubted the man's existence, a joke he now regretted.

Havan nodded. "Please, there are two horses outside, and they know the way. I'll handle everything here and catch up to you, just go!"

Both Shadowchasers knew this had to be big. Havan couldn't easily ride a horse herself, and she had led two of them halfway across Cauldron so they could get back quicker. Francis and Maddie knew an emergency when they saw it.

"Mainlanders," added Sypha. She stopped, struggling to find the right word. "Uhm… Good luck."

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There were many ironies in the world, something Francis had learned when he was young. He had gotten a D-Wheel license before he was licensed to drive a car, and had custom built his own ride for the first time (far from the last time) only two months later.

But when it came to the far older mode of transportation, the type you had to feed rather than refuel, he didn't do as well. It didn't matter how tame the horse was, it seemed to be an acquired skill that he just couldn't acquire and was always a literal pain in the ass.

Fortunately, Illewyn and Coffee met them at the front of the church, Illewyn offering to take the horses back to their stable, but the worry on their faces was evident. Before either of them could ask questions, Coffee just said, "This way!" and they followed.

Of course, the interior of the cathedral hadn't changed much since earlier, with all its hard edges and quiet dignity, with a certain majesty in the cavernous interior of its holy sanctum. But the two Shadowchasers also immediately sensed the tension in the air as soon as they had arrived. Jenya was kneeling in front of the altar praying, and Gregory was standing nearby. As she finished her prayer and turned to greet them, Francis could see the worry and concern he'd seen earlier reflected tenfold in the face of the woman who just days earlier had seemed hard as stone.

"Thank you for being so punctual." Jenya was a slight, compact woman, nearly a half a foot shorter than Francis, but had always seemed to have an air of authority that could intimidate a Shadow twice his size. Now, now, she seemed to have aged ten years since he had last seen her yesterday. Her long brown hair, typically done up in a stylish design, now hung about her shoulders unkempt, unwashed, and uncombed, in complete disarray.

"What's happened?" he asked.

"It's Selman," she said, forgetting about honorifics and titles in her agitation. "Not even an hour ago, as I was conducting the morning devotions, I received a sending from him." Without waiting for a response from them, she dug into the small pouch at her belt and thrust a scrap of paper at them. Francis scanned it quickly, then handed it to Maddie.

Both had heard of sending before, it was a simple means of communication that Nichole had often used to send messages to and from the soup kitchen where she volunteered. It was sort of a magical precursor to texting, with you and the one you had to "send" to using a scroll and a pen, the spell causing whatever was written on one scroll to also appear on the other.

The scroll had two short paragraphs, each with different handwriting:

At Lucky Monkey. Have eight wands. Tavern's been attacked. Bandits led by barbaric apeman. Badly wounded. Retreated to basement. They know we're here. Send assistance!

Selman? Is that you? Hang on! Conserve your resources. I'll send out aid immediately. Send me another message when you can. But until then have...

"The second line is my reply," Jenya explained. "I didn't have time to think it out clearly, I wanted to tell him to 'have faith.'" She nervously chewed on a fingernail. It unnerved the two Shadowchasers slightly, to see the normally cool and collected woman so distraught.

Both noticed that the message Selman had written had been done with a dip pen that had splattered three times. While bad penmanship could explain that, they assumed the High Priest had experience with such tools. They made the same deduction Jenya had - he was in grave danger.

"The Lucky Monkey?" Maddie asked.

"It's a wayside inn about 70 kilometers west from here, along the north road, on the outskirts of the Forest of Mir. About three kilometers south from Kingfisher Hollow."

Quickly doing the math in his head, Francis realized the gravity of the situation. Seventy kilometers was slightly over forty-three miles. While he didn't want to say it out loud, even if he were a master equestrian, it would take all day to ride there on horseback. If they got there on time, it would be a miracle.

"What's this about wands?"

"Uhm," started Jenya.

"Sister Urikas!" said Gregory, startling everyone, as he hadn't said anything since they came in. "Maybe the best thing now is to focus on High Priest Selman? Time is urgent."

"Okay, okay, what's the fastest way to get to this place?" asked Francis. "I mean, what would the shopkeeper down the street do if she wanted to go to Kingfisher Hollow?"

"Well…" started Jenya.

She quickly explained that Cauldron did indeed have a shuttle that served that purpose, circumventing the entire island twice per day, starting at 8AM and 2AM. Unlike the sea-train, it was pretty much a conventional steam locomotive, which went from Cauldron, to Redgorge, to Hollowsky, to Kingfisher Hollow, and back to Cauldron. It made a few minor stops between each town to pick up passengers (including one at the Lucky Monkey) making longer stops at the three towns (and Cauldron itself) to pick up and drop off passengers and cargo. The entire round trip took four hours; given its and given its schedule, it was just now about to leave from Redgorge.

"We considered calling the town guard," added Jenya, "but they would likely waste time simply getting a group together, what with the tightened security for the Festival."

This is bad, thought Francis. And it clearly was. Best case scenario, the train could get them there by four PM, while using the horses might cut two hours at most from that. If only…

"There is another way." The comment had come from Gregory, who was smiling slightly. "Follow me."

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Fifteen minutes later, they were at a large storage bin on a side street between Obsidian and Lava Avenue. Francis did notice that they were close to the town gates right now, but rather far from the train station or any sort of stable.

"This wasn't easy." Gregory took a key from a pouch on his belt and started to unlock the padlock on the bin. "Had to pull some strings and make some promises with the town barracks…"

"What's in there?" asked Francis.

His question was answered quickly as the padlock clicked open, followed by the bin's doors. To the shock of everyone there, Jenya included, it was the Duel Runner. The Harley-Davidson Midnight Arrow that Maddie had helped Dakota's goons restore and repair.

"HOW?" exclaimed Maddie. She knew she was sounding like a child on Christmas morning, but she didn't care. She had been terribly upset when the town guard had impounded it, something that Francis had to remind her was their legal right and probably standard procedure, but somehow, Gregory had convinced them to let them keep it. Right now, looking at Gregory made her wonder if St. Cuthbert demanded a vow of celibacy for his clergy.

"Does it matter?" asked Francis. He looked it over, realizing now, maybe, Selman had a chance. This would turn a day-long trip into only above an hour.

Maddie calmed down, then unstrapped her Duel Disk from her arm, taking the deck and placing it in a pouch on her own belt. "Jenya, here." She pushed it into Jenya's arms, then flipped a switch. "We should be able to use this and communicate. You can tell us the rest on the way."

He mounted the main part of the Duel Runner, Maddie clamoring into the sidecar. Gregory handed her his own satchel, a quick check of which showed it contained bandages, salves, and five of Jenya's precious healing potions, along with four odd coins. It wasn't as much as they had given Francis for the trek into the Malachite Fortress, but then, only Nichole knew how to use a lot of that.

"Once you're out of the town gates, head northeast on the road, you'll need to give one of those coins to the knight with the urn for the bridge toll. Once you're over that, the road makes a fork, take the left one. The road is pretty straight from there, but when you go through the forest, do not dismount for any reason, that forest isn't safe."

"Gotcha," said Francis. He turned the ignition, and the old Duel Runner sputtered once, then again…

"Please work," begged Maddie, quietly.

"Don't worry, Maddie, if this thing has an engine, I can drive it... Come on…"

He hit the ignition again, shifting the gear and then finally, it roared to life. Everyone sighed with relief.

"May Cuthbert walk with you," said Jenya, tracing her hand in the deity's blessing.

The Duel Runner sped out of the holding crate, making a sharp turn down the street lakeward, then through a tunnel leading to the city gates ahead of them. Francis and Maddie saw Havan next to them, and she smiled as a guard activated a winch causing the gates to swing outward. Francis waved to the acolyte, speeding past the gate, then down a road that descended the foothill of the mountain. They stopped for a minute, taking in the open sky and the vast savanna ahead of them.

"Ready?" asked Francis.

Maddie nodded, and the Duel Runner darted down the Old Merchant Road, a cloud of dust and exhaust in its wake.

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About two miles down the road, a helmeted figure waited.

He heard a voice in his ear, "They just left, I assume you know what to do."

"You got it," the figure's gruff voice answered back.

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The Duel Runner was starting to handle better now, and both Shadowchasers were a little upset that they didn't have time to stop and admire the beautiful landscape they were rushing past, which they wished they had explored further in the past month. The savannas around them seemed lush and unspoiled, with spired mountains to the north. They even saw a herd of wildebeests prancing in the opposite direction as they sped past. Hopefully, there would be time for sightseeing later.

"Just hold on, Maddie, we should be there in an hour bearing any trouble."

Then, as they passed some shrubbery, there was a crackling, popping sound, and the Duel Runner skidded to a halt, as if he had slammed on the breaks, something he clearly hadn't done.

"What?" asked Maddie. Looking around, they saw that the ground about 50 feet around them in all directions had taken on an unnatural metallic blue color, sparking with odd energy.

I just had to open my big mouth, he thought. He looked around and saw a large boxcar about ten feet from the side of the road, one that had obviously not been hitched to a train for a long time, given how rusty it was. But what drew his attention more was the Shadow leaning against it.

"Well, well, what have we got here?" he said a voice that certainly didn't sound friendly.

This large, hulking Shadowkind was least eight feet tall. Were his skin not sickly-green, they might have mistaken him for a goliath. His clothes, however, didn't match their style either, being little but a dirty pair of overalls, leather gloves, and boots. Along with a helmet that covered about half his face.

"I'd ask what the big idea is," said Francis, "but I assume you're going to tell us."

"Watch your mouth!" snapped the brute. He lifted his helmet, revealing his rather ugly face, with pointed ears, and an oversized lower jaw, and he was completely bald.

"Afraid I can't let you two use this public road with that unregistered, unlicensed vehicle."

"Public road?" said Maddie. "Wait, since when did Cauldron have a DMV?"

"Listen, big guy," said Francis, trying to keep as much a straight face as he could, as being this close to the brute wasn't very pleasant, due to his incredibly bad body odor and worse breath. "We're in a bit of a hurry here, I assume you're going to tell us how to get this, uhm, 'registration'?

His hand moved to a switch under his dashboard as the brute started to give an explanation that was obviously a lame attempt at extortion. "First of all, 100 sovereigns for the visitors tax, 300 for processing, 100 for insurance and the safety deposit, oh and since it's a rush job, I'm gonna have to tack on another 200."

"Or we can tell you to go to Hell," said Francis.

"HAHA, yeah, right, how are you gonna… HEY!"

The 'HEY' came as Francis stepped on the gas, tearing through the odd field of energy as the brute dove aside.

"Ow… Dammit, Momoe!" he shouted, then lowered his tone considerably. "You wouldn't know a good trap if it bit you in the ass!"

"Oh, I am so sorry," said the voice in his head, which obviously belonged to his "benefactor", Ferid Momoe, and didn't suggest a sincere apology in the slightest. "Forgive my negligence in a rush job at building a device designed to impair a vehicle that ten citizens of Cauldron at most have ever even seen. Just proceed to stage two."

Of course, this order was hardly necessary because the thug had already opened the door of the boxcar, revealing the far newer cargo stored inside.

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"What was that thing?" asked Maddie.

"Dampening field," replied Francis, "designed to nullify a Momentum engine. Luckily, this engine is a hybrid. Oh, that reminds me, if we ever get back to the States -"

"Uh, Francis…"

Maddie's quick change of tone accompanied the ground starting to tremble. Francis looked in his rearview mirror, and saw that the thug was in pursuit, with a Duel Runner of his own. Although, calling this vehicle a Duel Runner would require a lot of creative liberties.

It reminded Francis of Grieger's famous Duel Runner from Neo Domino's Fortune Cup (often called "the Beast") but was, if anything, even larger, and much cruder. It was as if someone had taken a pile of cinder blocks and scrap metal and welded it all into the general shape of something resembling a cross between a dragster, Duel Runner, and a tank, and then gave it a Diesel-powered engine. Instead of two sets of rear wheels, it had what looked like the drum of a road-roller. Worst of all, the thing was loud, and its twin pairs of exhaust pipes behind it spewed smoke and ash into the sky.

"You two mainlanders need a lesson in respect," laughed the thug, "so just call me Professor Brolly Jones!"

Despite its huge size, the contraption started to gain on them. Maddie suddenly remembered another bad movie; one she had that festival of "so-bad-they're-good" science fiction movies she had gone to last summer. Mortal Engines had an opening scene where London - which had been turned into a monstrous, giant city on wheels in the post-apocalyptic setting - chasing down a much smaller town on wheels. It was a scene that seemed ridiculous at the time, but now much more frightening in hindsight…

...until, that is, they passed through another dampening field trap this guy had previously set. The brute screamed as his giant Duel Runner skidded to a halt, while Francis and Maddie sped through unfazed.

"Thanks, big guy," laughed Francis, "I really needed to see that right now!"

The thug slammed his fist on the console, cursing. "This ain't off to the best start," he growled.

"Look on the bright side, Ghulertas," said Ferid's voice, "er, I mean Brolly, Mr. Mills doesn't seem to recognize you one bit, it seems the surgery was a success."

"Yeah, well, you could have picked a better name, you know." He hopped off the huge Duel Runner, removing his helmet again.

"They won't get far. Once they get to the Gorge, you'll have a chance to catch up."

Brolly found the mechanism for the trap and brought his foot down on it, crushing it.

"Just don't get carried away this time. The Cagewrights are rather obstinate about details."

"Right, right, details, I'm going."

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"Whoa," said Francis.

They had expected a simple bridge over a river. This was anything but. The bridge in front of them was a massive stone structure over a wide chasm, held up by an extensive stone buttress system, and looked to be miles long. Stone portcullis bars formed a gate blocking the bridge from there side of the road. Clearly only dwarves could have built such a structure, and Francis was starting to think he had been a little too hasty in doubting Spellmason's engineering skills.

Still, as grandiose as the bridge was, they realized they had to stop admiring it and get across it. They saw the "knight with the urn" that Gregory had mentioned, which was, unfortunately, not a living guard who could help them, but a statue of a dwarf in armor holding a bronze urn. The purpose of the statue was clear.

"Maddie, give me one of your socks, I've got an idea."

As the Duel Runner slowed down, approaching the knight, Maddie pried off one of her shoes, and then struggled to remove a sock, which wasn't easy in this cramped space. She managed to do so as they felt the ground tremble again. He was gaining.

Francis tossed one of the coins into the urn, and there was a rattling sound as it fell through a small slot into the bottom half of the urn. As he expected, the portcullis gate in front of them started to rise. "I think someone did this once in a Hardy Boys novel," he said, and stuffed the sock into the urn. Then he stepped on the gas, past the last two-hundred feet, ducking slightly as they passed under. The Duel Runner drove over a pressure plate about ten feet inside, and the gate stopped rising, lowering quickly, and blocking the entrance behind them. They stopped and paused, watching their foe pursue them.

Brolly didn't bother to slow down as he approached taking his own coin from his shirt pocket and tossed it in the urn as he sped by. However, as Francis had hoped, the sock he had used to clog the slot kept the coin from registering, and the gate failed to open.

"DAMMIT!" shouted Brolly. He moved his foot to slam on the break, but then, a toothy grin formed under his helmet as he got an idea. Instead, he slammed his foot on the gas instead.

"He's crazy!" shouted Maddie. She and Francis covered their heads as he smashed through the stone portcullis and then slammed on the breaks.

He chuckled a little as he took his helmet off to look at them. "You mainlanders are calling me crazy? Heh, these motorcycles are used to play Duel Monsters at high speed, kid I'd say you'd have to be a little crazy to try it. And besides, if you knew anything about this bridge, you'd be ten miles away right now. Parents in Cauldron use stories of the Demonskarr Gorge to scare their children into behaving, they say the bottom of this ravine leads straight to Hell."

This is the Demonskarr? thought Maddie, now wondering why in the world a masquerade party had been named after it.

"You're the one who followed us onto it, big guy." Francis started the Duel Runner again and turned from him, shouting, "You want to stop us on that thing, you're going to… Well, you're going to have to show us you are crazier than we are!"

"Oh, I thought you'd never ask," replied Brolly.

He flipped a switch under his dashboard, and a special section of the console lit up on both Duel Runners, while an AI voice on both said, "Duel Mode engaged, downloading data from KaibaCorp satellite system."

"Maddie, listen, this is hardly the ideal track and I've never been on it before. I'm going to have to concentrate here, so you are going to have to duel him."

"My deck," she said, "it isn't Turbo Duel compliant, I…"

"Then use mine," he said.

Again, as he handed her his deck, tears of joy ran down Maddie's cheeks. Her hand trembled as she placed the deck in the sidecar's console, one that focused far more on the 'Duel' part of a Duel Runner than the driving.

"Activating Speed World 2," said the AI, and the bridge, gorge, and landscape around them was covered by a silvery aura.

"Time to show this backwoods road hog how we do things in the States…

"DUEL!"

(Maddie: 8,000, SPC:0) - - - - - - - - (Brolly: 8,000, SPC 0)

"Here we go!"

She grabbed the first card off her deck, and was for a minute, confused by the monster. "Uh…" she said.

"Go ahead, it works here," urged Francis.

"Right, I'll summon the Keeper of Dragon Magic!" she exclaimed.

Playing the card caused a rift to appear behind her, and a tall, humanoid figure to fly out. While this monster was a dragon, he seemed far more human, resembling a tall man in emerald-green plate mail and a helmet resembling a dragon's head covering the lower part of his face. His long, blonde hair fell down his back from under his helmet. As he positioned himself behind the two-man Duel Runner, between them and Brolly, he produced a long, metal, serrated spear, pointing it menacingly at the troll. (1,800 ATK)

"Oh, is that supposed to scare me?"

"No, this is," said Maddie, "Keeper has two effects, first off, I can discard one card, and gain any Spell Card with the word 'Fusion' in it from my deck."

She took a card from her hand, Lord of D, and slipped it into the Graveyard slot on the console. In response, Keeper's spear shimmered, and a new card appeared with the other three to replace it, Speed Spell - Speed Fusion.

Looks like that one counts, but until this duel speeds up a little, I won't be able to use it.

"Now I'll use his other effect and set a monster from my Graveyard that's a Material for one of my Fusion Monsters."

A large replica of a card, King Dragun, appeared next to Keeper of Dragon Magic, and he twirled his spear, striking it and blowing it to shards. The shards formed into a new card, back to front, and then set itself next to Keeper.

"And it's your move, freak."

"Freak?" said Brolly, the snarky tone suggesting he wasn't very offended at all. He drew a card, then chuckled, "If you think I'm a freak, you're gonna love this guy. I summon Crazy Racer - Gargle Goyle!"

There was a sound like yet another loud engine, and Francis swerved and skidded to avoid another vehicle driving towards them. It looked like a dune buggy, but with a large, exterior engine, the type used by an old "hot rod". But what stood out even more was the driver, which seemed to be almost as large as the vehicle itself. In basic outline, it was Ryu-Kishin, but if anything, even uglier. The gargoyle had gained weight, had a lot of hair on its chest, and an anchor tattoo on each arm. Its teeth were large to the point of exaggeration, crooked, broken, and rotting, with a long, lolling tongue. Finally, it's eyes were bulging, bulbous, and had hideous veins all over them. (1,000 ATK)

"Ew!" grunted Maddie in disgust.

"If you think he's a freak, wait until you see this one. By sending a Level 4 Beast-Warrior from my deck to the Graveyard, I can Special Summon another of my Crazy Racers, Banyan Paul!"

Discarding the card into his discard slot caused another loud engine to sound, and Francis swerved again to avoid a tractor… Made of wood! Impossible as it seemed, this was a wooden tractor with a hot-rod's external engine. At the wheel was a monster that looked like Beaver Warrior, again almost as large as its vehicle, wearing a battered trucker's cap and dirty flannel shirt. It carried a woodcutter's axe. Like the other, it had bulging eyes with veins and exaggerated overbite, along with a huge nose. (1,200 ATK)

"Okay, nice pun there," said Francis, rolling his eyes.

"Now, normally, I can only summon one Crazy Racer per turn that way, but since I Normal Summoned that guy," he pointed to Gargle Golem, "I can summon another, so I'll send another Level 4 Beast-Warrior to my deck to bring out Crazy Racer BDI-1. Surfs up, as you mainlanders say!"

Before they could figure out what they meant, there was a new noise, like an outboard motor, and the creature that appeared next was Hitotsu-Me-Giant, riding, of all things, a surfboard. A surfboard, that is, with a pair of wheels on the rear underneath a motor. Again, it had large, broken teeth, one huge, bulbous eye, and was wearing… jams. (1,200 ATK)

Francis had to look at the thing long and hard in his rear-view mirror. "You have got to be kidding me. If Kaiba were here he'd have a fit!"

"Oh, so sorry, you don't like this one?" said Brolly, again with obvious sarcasm. "Okay, okay, I'll get rid of him. You see, by summoning him, for this turn only, I can make a second Normal Summon, so long as it's a Tribute Summon and I use him as the Tribute. Here comes Baron von Blitzkrieg!"

BDI-1 cackled loudly, then dissolved into particles, giving way to a much bigger, much bulkier monster. This was an unholy cross between a steamroller and a tank, the barrel in front covered with spikes. At the wheel was what looked like Gadget Soldier, wearing a Pickelhaube helmet and a dirty, unkempt officer's uniform, the helmet covering its eyes and a face that seemed like it was 80% chin. The upper part of its arm had been replaced by a handheld rocket-propelled grenade launcher which it brandished menacingly. (1,800 ATK)

"Just by summoning Baron von Blitzkrieg, I'm able to take a Trap Card from my deck and set it, so I'll -"

"HEADS UP!" shouted Francis.

Maddie was a little startled, but quickly saw the reason for his warning, they were speeding towards the other end of the bridge, with its gate that was - very slowly - opening. Obviously, if they had been driving the type of vehicle that usually used this road, it would be fully opened by the time they got there, but now, they had to duck to avoid being decapitated as they passed under. Keeper of Dragon Magic took a different route, soaring up into the sky and over the gate as they sped into the savanna beyond the Demonskarr.

"Crap," growled Brolly, and he slammed the Trap Card he had gotten onto his Spell Zone, then as he did before, slammed his foot on the gas and smashed through the slowly ascending gate.

"Okay, okay," muttered Maddie, "I admit it, you are definitely crazier than we are. Never thought I'd use that as a complement."

"Oh, you mainlanders ain't seen anything yet. We may be past the Demonskarr, but the road only gets more hazardous from this point, I promise you that…"

To Be Continued...

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Crazy Racer - BDI-1 (Effect Monster)

Fiend/Earth/Lvl4/1,200/1,000

Effect: This card may be Special Summoned by sending a Lvl4 Normal Beast-Warrior Type monster to your GY from your hand or deck. Only 1 "Crazy Racer" monster can be Special Summoned via its own effect per turn. If card is Special Summoned this way, it gains the following effect:

You may make a second Normal Summon this turn. This second Normal Summon must be a Tribute Summon of a Lvl 5 or higher "Crazy Racer" monster and must use this card as a Tribute. This effect of "Crazy Racer - BDI-1" can only be used once per turn.

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Crazy Racer - Baron von Blitzkrieg (Effect Monster)

Fiend/Fire/Lvl6/1,800/2,000

Effect: This card can be Special Summoned by sending a Lvl6 Normal Machine Type monster to your GY from your hand or deck. Only 1 "Crazy Racer" monster can be Special Summoned via its own effect per turn. If this card is Special Summoned this way OR Tribute Summoned by Tributing a "Crazy Racer" monster, it gains the following effect:

Select 1 Normal Trap Card from your deck and set it. The turn you use this effect, this card cannot attack, and you may not activate any Trap Cards or Spell Cards.

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Thanks for reading! As you can see, I decided to try something new here, taking the advice of a friend who suggested a duel didn't have to be started and finished in the same chapter. If you like or dislike the idea, please drop a line, and let me know.

Oh, and before anyone asks why I didn't supply information for some of the fanmade cards used, it's because I want to keep their effects secret until they are used next chapter.

Speaking of which, the next chapter will not only see the duel to completion but feature the return of both the Shadowchaser Files and Madca's Troupe. This new file will begin a look at the darker, seedier side of this oddball group of performers, namely the Freak Show and it's odd orchestrator, Professor Percival Plumber and His Pickled Punks.

Who is this master of Pickled Punks? For that matter, what the devil is a Pickled Punk? Well… suffice to say it's as unpleasant as it sounds.

See you then!