Shadowchasers: Blue Blood

by 0ccam's Razor

The Flood has been prevented, but tensions in Cauldron still simmer in the aftermath. The fourth part of the Shackled City saga.

9. Consideration

We now return to our regularly scheduled fanfic, Shadowchasers: Blue Blood.

Before we start, I'd like to get something off my chest – I hate Daylight Savings Time. Among all the brilliant ideas Benjamin Franklin had, this was not one of them. I know, I know a lot of folks liked getting the extra hour of sleep last night, but for someone who often has to work the night shift like myself, it's an extra hour of work.

There, I've said it, I feel better.

And to all readers, be cool, be kind, and take care.

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Shadowchasers

Blue Blood

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Chapter Two

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The Consideration

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Maddie slowly opened her eyes. She was lying on her side with her face… on pavement?

She gasped and sat up. She was… She was back in Cauldron?

Her D-Wheel was right next to her, she was in a place she recognized, an alley only a block from St. Cuthbert's Cathedral. It was in front of her.

She had briefly seen the fate Cammy had intended for her, the hellish mire of filth and offal that the Lord of Demons called home… but only briefly… It was as if she had now woken up from a nightmare… She felt her chest. The wounds were still sore, but they had healed.

Why? she thought. Had Cammy done it as some sick joke? As a threat or a warning? Had someone saved her? She looked up at the church. Some sort of miracle?

She patted herself down, making complete sure she was unharmed, and…

My pocket…

There was a note in her pocket.

Her fear and anger were both fading, giving way to curiosity. She withdrew it, unfolded it, and started to read the handwritten note.

Madelyn,

Since you are reading this note, you obviously are not suffering the eternal torment of the Maw of Demogorgon. Either Hextor chose not to honor my request, or I cast the spell wrong.

My faith in Hextor stays unshaken, and I doubt I would accidentally miscast such a spell. I take it you can figure out the rest.

Do not assume this means I would be your friend or ally should we meet again. I did not spare you due to mercy, admiration, or compassion. It's a matter of honor. I always pay back what I owe.

Even if it was simply some fish and chips brought by someone willing to listen for 15 minutes.

C

No, it had not been a miracle…

She tore the paper in rage, bowing her head as she started to cry. She figured it out quickly, that was true. But the important thing was, for all the madness they had put them through… Cammy had escaped.

"MADDIE!" shouted Nichole's voice.

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"I can't tell you how glad we all are that you finally got here!"

Princess Shanafa was in her usual cheery, happy, bubbly mood, although Ferid and Cammy both knew it was a ruse. Shma Goma was by her side, sitting on the haunches of his lower torso, holding a compress to his forehead, leering at Cammy, not in an affectionate way.

In the stuffy mansion, a new ceremony for inducting a new apprentice was about to begin. Cammy had hoped she would at least be able to shower and change before such an important ritual, but things had seriously gone off the rails.

"We're going to be living here most likely," growled Ferid.

"Oh yes," said a voice behind them, "we heard. Looking a little… stiff, aren't we, Cammy? So upsetting that the plan was botched."

"Triel…" There was bile in Cammy's voice as she gazed upon her former accomplice in the Ebon Triad. She would have lunged at Triel had Biana - a dark, female… creature (that seemed the best designation for what she was) in a black cloak and featureless porcelain mask - not been silently floating behind her.

The two of them and the Triad's now-deceased third member, Takilar, had been commissioned by the Cagewrights - as in, the group Shanafa and Ferid were members of - for a special project that involved them being intermediaries with a clan of fire giants who lived in the north. The work was very expensive involving mercantile transactions via Franct the Sheep Eater, a notorious trader with no scruples towards who he worked for. Triel managed all these transactions, and as she alone had the divine power to coerce secrets from allies and enemies alike and was trusted with the budgeting and funds. It was going well until Triel received an offer of mentorship - presumably from Biana - and took it without question, leaving Cammy and Takilar with nothing.

She had no idea who or what Biana was, but she had seen at least one of the horrid deaths experienced by those who challenged her - or those she allied herself with. Revenge would thus have to be by proxy, through another powerful member of the Cagewrights.

Still, it seemed Ferid was even angrier at them than she was. "It wasn't botched, Triel, it was sabotaged." He lifted the bag up in front of her. "This is - or was - a bag of plenty. A very useful device used by outdoorsmen that can produce the food needed for five people for a day."

"Such a… waste of food," said Triel. She said it in a way to suggest that she was unimpressed, but the small beads of sweat on her forehead showed otherwise.

"As best I can estimate, its magic was used about an hour previous to when Aszithef gave it to me, the user then emptying it in order to use it to store that equipment I had requested, meaning it would have been unable to function until tomorrow afternoon. Had its enchantment not been more than enough to cause the security system to take notice."

"Now you listen Ferid -"

"AHEM!"

"Oh, Xokiek," groaned Cammy, "thank the Triad."

The strange blue goblin nodded to acknowledge his new apprentice. "For one so skilled at determining the secrets held by others, Triel, you aren't so well-versed in hiding your own."

"You scrawny little toad, I -"

Then Bianca put her hand on Triel's shoulder. The sweat on Triel's forehead went cold. "Choose your battles wisely," said Bianca's soft, disquieting voice.

Xokiek and Ferid watched them walk away, but Cammy found it hard to even straighten up. She felt like her insides were turning into cement. "Xokiek, uh…" she groaned.

He didn't verbally respond, but somehow produced a liter-sized bottle of green liquid. Cammy strained to grab hold of.

"Be sure to drink it all at once," advised the goblin. Cammy was already almost halfway through it, and while it tasted disgusting, she could feel it working, the stiffness going away as the praxeus started to fade.

"Xokiek, I can explain," started Ferid, "It was -"

"Don't embarrass yourself further, Ferid. It barely matters." Cammy dropped the bottle, nearly retching with disgust. Xokiek paused in his explanation to Ferid to tell her, "Don't vomit, I didn't bring a second dose. As I was saying, Mr. Momoe, your task was to extract Ms. Grains and bring her here, and while I cannot say I admire your lack of finesse, you did at least achieve the desired result."

Xokiek had the annoying habit of not looking a person in the face when he spoke to them, and right now, he was talking to Ferid when his back was turned. As rude as it was, Ferid knew enough not to argue.

The door opened again, with Rivaldi, Aszithef, and the gnome's huge, armored partner entering. By Xokiek's count, everyone was here. "As for living here," he gave Ferid a sideways glance, "there are worse things that could have happen, and far worse things that could happen. Now, Ms. Grains…" He extended his hand to Cammy. "Shall we?"

Cammy turned to look at Triel again and saw that her hated rival was looking at her with the envy and frustration in her expression impossible to conceal.

She was going to enjoy this.

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An hour later.

"Next time you two decide to go sewer swimming, give us some time to prepare, okay?"

Sonya and Red Feather had never taken Havan and Illewyn for a sense of humor or sarcastic wit, and they didn't find the acolyte's teasing funny. Still, after an hour in the chapel's washroom trying to scrub the filth off their skin, they welcomed the assistance, although they weren't sure the scrub brushes the pair brought were designed with this in mind.

They and Maddie were not in the best of moods. They still hadn't been able to get anything to eat since the whole ordeal started, and because they certainly weren't going to wait for bathwater to be heated, they were using cold water.

"We'll try to give advance notice the next time we have to deal with an unannounced terrorist attack, Ooh, lower… Yeah, you would make a great masseuse, Havan."

There was a loud rapping on the door. "Occupied!" shouted Illewyn.

"Can you girls hurry?" said Nicole's voice in reply. "We have a… situation."

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"Look I told you, I do not know! Why are you even here?"

This was a headache Maddie did not need right now. The unannounced and uninvited visitors to the chapel's common room were Sergeant Rinaldo and three sentries, who were making a harsh attempt to interrogate her, who was seated on a couch with Jenya, Francis, and Hank behind her and clearly annoyed at their gall.

"I'm here," answered Rinaldo, "because there is a dangerous fugitive loose, and you were the last civilian to speak to her. Need I remind you three guards and ten inmates were killed when -"

"Need I remind you that thousands might have been killed had she not been there," snapped Francis. "What exactly are you implying?"

"I'm not 'implying' anything, I just -"

"You think I put a file in those fish and chips or something?" asked Maddie. "I mean, that was the only thing I had that the front desk didn't hold while I was with her."

Rinaldo noticed that Red Feather and Sonya (both wearing bathrobes), plus Nichole and the acolytes had entered the room, and all were just as angry. Damn, this is not my day, he thought. "Listen, Ms. Fulton, did she tell you anything when you spoke to her?"

"Oh yes, yes, she did, actually. She said Cauldron was run by a bunch of creeps and that the real reason she was on death row was for vandalizing a painting."

"That is absurd!"

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, but if it were true, it would explain a great deal."

The voice had come from Gregory, the last person to enter the room. Nichole was happy to see him again, but as she could tell, he had assumed that rude and arrogant side of himself that the Shadowchasers had first seen right before Sonya's match with Shma Goma. Fortunately, he had someone else to vent his anger out on this time.

"As you gentlemen - I use the term loosely - are aware, not only is Ms. Grains now a fugitive and still at large, she had an accomplice who may have been the mastermind behind the attack, and you are wasting time here rather than looking for them. Do you seriously believe Ms. Fulton would be here if she had anything to do with it?"

Rinaldo sighed heavily, and then said to Maddie, "This accomplice, can you describe him?"

Maddie closed her eyes with a small sigh of her own, and then said, "About as tall as you, very thin, about 50 years old or so, blue - check that, bloodshot blue eyes, a strong jaw and a long, pointy nose. He was wearing a jerkin and a pointy hat with a wide brim, pretty sure he was a wizard. Cammy called him 'Fetid' or 'Farred' I think."

"Sounds like the type who would stand out in a crowd," said one of Rinaldo's subordinates.

As Maddie was relating this, the other subordinate was writing it down on a notepad that he had brought for just that purpose. He turned and nodded to Rinaldo who simply said, "We'll be back if we have any more questions. Good day."

After all of them had left, Nichole said, "So what now?"

"Did Cammy not have another… accomplice?"

Red Feather's question came with a realization for all of them except Hank and Nichole. There was indeed another accomplice, Narmer Torrona, the were-baboon who called himself Tongue-Eater. As far as they knew, he was still in jail… as far as they knew, that is.

Francis checked his watch - it was seven PM. "Okay, okay, it's been a long day, I say we just sleep on it. You folks can all go check out the jail tomorrow."

"By 'you' I assume only 'us'?" asked Maddie.

Francis nodded. "Because I have bigger fish to fry."

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Maddie was fast asleep, faster than she had ever been. It had been a long day, and for once, she was having pleasant dreams. She was lying in a canopy bed in a bedroom fit for an empress, and both Cloud Strife and Sephiroth were with her, one on each side, lovingly embracing her. Both were naked, other than the slave collars they wore. Why? How? She was dreaming - did she need a reason?

Usually, this would be the part where her alarm clock rang, causing her to throw it against the wall, but this time, someone was there to wake her up.

"Wake UP, Madelyn. WAKE UP!" Maddie grunted, obviously not wanting to wake up. "Come on, Madelyn, rise and shine, I'm on a schedule here."

Okay, someone is gonna die, thought Maddie.

She opened her eyes and sat up in bed - her regular bed, provided to her by the acolytes, in her small and modest chapel cell - and rubbed her eyes to get the sleep dust out of them. For a minute, she thought her visitor was one of the acolytes, and that she really shouldn't be mad. She fumbled for the gas lamp on the side of her bed, a device she was just starting to get used to…

…but then, it turned on by itself. Or rather, her visitor turned it on. It wasn't one of the acolytes. For more than one reason, her visitor was someone who did not belong here.

The woman standing at the foot of her bed (conveniently blocking the doorway out, something Maddie felt she should be concerned about) was a tall, shapely attractive woman - with dark red skin, black hair, backward-pointing goat-like horns (each about a foot long), and her eyes had blood red pupils on yellow sclera. But this demonic visage was combined with an image of formality. The black hair was tied back in a bun, she wore a businesswoman's suit, glasses, nylons, and high-heeled shoes. Although the suit was low-cut and with a very short skirt - Maddie could see a forked tail lurking behind underneath it. She was talking on, of all things, a mobile phone.

"Yes, I'm here. Don't worry, tell Mr. Barbas I should be on time."

"WHO ARE YOU?" demanded Maddie.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said the demoness with a pleasant smile. She hung up the phone and… disposed of it somehow. "You know how it is, the interns always mess up the problem with the scheduling." She cleared her throat. "Ms. Madelyne Fulton, I assume?"

"That would be me." Maddie was doing her best to avoid screaming for help, at least for now. She naturally expected that this strange woman meant her no good, but she also wanted answers.

"My card." Maddie expected that line to be followed with the woman handing her a business card, but instead, it appeared in front of her, hovering in the air. She took it and read the text, glowing red ink on a black background.

Amorette Valenca

Chaos Personnel Consultant

DO&G Inc

"Call me Amor," said the demoness.

"Well, that explains a lot," said Maddie, although in truth, it had only made it far more confusing. "That would make you a… devil's advocate?"

"Uhm, uh, yes, never heard that one before, right." Amor snapped her fingers, causing the card to disappear. "Simply put, Ms. Fulton, I've been assigned as consultant for your orientation, as I assume your newly acquired position will be -"

"Wait, hold on, 'newly acquired position'? What do you mean?"

"Exarch to Grand Duchess Pollodema, of course."

Suddenly, Maddie really wished she was back at that dream - she was now in a living nightmare. Her urge to scream became harder to resist, but then Amor put the lamp down and produced a clipboard, likely from the same place she had put the mobile. Maddie calmed down - maybe she could learn more from this.

"These references seemed to think highly of your resume, your mentor gave very high recommendation, and Pollodema herself saw great potential, so long as you -"

"Wait, wait, one minute." As crazy as all of this sounded, it was finally starting to make sense. "Mentor, that would be Delyla, right?" Amor nodded in the affirmative. "And who are these references?"

"I am sorry Ms. Fulton, I am not authorized to divulge information about former and current clientele. We have a stringent confidentiality policy regarding such."

Chaos Personnel Consultants have policies? I'm not even going to ask.

"So… what you're telling me is, that duel with Delyla was a… job interview?"

"We refer to it as an experimental recruitment whisperer, and while it has yet to be perfected, early results have been very promising."

"Well, I'm afraid I have to refuse," said Maddie.

"Eh?"

"Sorry, I'm not interested." Maddie was, of course, feigning politeness, but she hoped she could convince her to simply leave. "The Duchess is going to have to find someone else."

"Damn, gonna be one of those days," muttered Amor. She recovered her mobile (strangely discarding the clipboard the same way she had discarded the phone) and hit the redial. "Yeah, it's me," she said, "tell Mr. Barbas I might be late, we have a reluctant applicant here."

Maddie slowly reached for the sword by her bed….

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Maddie was not the only one having trouble sleeping.

In her room down the hall, Nichole had hoped that coming back here would help her avoid those crazy dreams she was having. Or maybe make them clearer.

Eventually, she sat up. Whenever you couldn't sleep, it wasn't a good idea to just lie in bed trying to. She had a few books in her luggage that…

…a loud thump startled her. Something had been on her bed, and she had knocked it on the floor. Looking over the edge, she saw a package there, a square box about 14 inches long by 8 wide by 4 thick.

She was wide awake and alert now. Turning the lamp on, she went to the door, peered outside, and finding no-one around, went to pick it up. The words, Nichole, open ASAP were written on it in Gregory's handwriting.

Please let it be flowers, she thought, even though she knew that was too much to hope for. She carefully started to unwrap the package.

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"Ms. Fulton, listen, everyone has cold feet at first, but Grand Duchess Pollodema has given high regards to your performance thus far." Getting no response but a cold death-glare from Maddie, she went on. "She doesn't want you as a simple henchman, you know. She is offering a place in her inner circle. She has plans, big plans, and the potential rewards are almost limitless."

"How flattering," replied Maddie. "Listen, I'm going to be honest here, it's nice to know that an up-and-coming Duchess of Hell thinks I'd do well at seducing and enslaving mortal souls, but it was never my first career choice, okay?"

"Really?" asked Amor. The she-demon's eyes started to glow, and shadows started to cover her, with her voice becoming softer, sultry, and sinister. "You were asleep, and you were dreaming. You dream of making men your slaves, slavishly doing your biding." Maddie felt her hands behind her, caressing her gently. "You enjoyed it… You fantasize about such things. Don't you yearn to make such fantasies reality? You can -"

Then, Maddie grabbed her arm with her left hand, catching the demon off guard and following up with a belt to the face with her right hand, and then following that by pulling off a move that earned her a black belt in Judo, throwing her over her shoulder and sending her crashing to the floor at the foot of the bed.

"Delyla used that exact trick," she said, "doesn't work as well the second time, does it? Yeah, fantasies are nice so long as they stay fantasies, but making them into realities crosses the threshold that makes people into, well… you. So sorry, Charlie, you ain't getting paid for this one, so you can just go back to -"

She was interrupted as Amor laughed. The type of laugh she'd expect from a typical demon, a bone-chilling, wicked laugh. Amor was dropping her facade now.

"I've already been paid, Ms. Fulton," she hissed, "do you really assume my firm isn't the type to demand payment up front?" She stood up, adjusting her glasses over eyes that now had fiendishly slit pupils. "Truth be told, we have nothing but respect for choice and free will and would gladly release you from the contract if we could. While it isn't company policy, I feel obligated to tell you one thing. Only Pollodema herself can cancel your contract, and she isn't going to."

"Well, that's too bad, I never signed anything."

"That's not the point. While the contract has yet to be officially signed, that is only a necessity on my end. Duchess Pollodema placed a little incentive, right there." She pointed to Maddie's chest, right where her heart was. "A spiritual brand of sorts, and you are changing. I do believe you've already seen the end result."

Maddie froze. The dream she'd had the other night…

"I was going to finalize the deal tonight, but seeing as you are… having second thoughts, I can come back should you change your mind." She started to fade away into the darkness. "Don't forget, we have a stringent confidentiality policy regarding these transactions."

Maddie had wanted to lift her sword and lunge at her, but the chilling revelation had left her too shaken to do anything of the sort. That nightmare she had, where she was a demon dueling a Shadowchaser… She was turning into that monster! And by the time she finally regained control of herself, Amor was gone, having left the same way she had entered - however that was.

The nervousness and fear faded quickly, but not the worry. This had certainly been "one bad day" for her, but this didn't seem at all what Fawley had described. Edgar had told her something about fiends, when one of them does not like you, be wary, but if they do like you, be terrified.

What could she do? That comment Amor had made at the end seemed to confirm that yes, she was under a curse or geas that prevented her from telling anyone what had happened.

She lay back on her bed, wondering what her next move should be.

Who can I even go to? A doctor? An exorcist? A voodoo priest? Say… That might not be a bad idea, maybe I can give Edgar a call and ask if he can look up Chicken Bone… I think they're still on good terms. Damn, how am I going to fall asleep again now?

Five minutes later, she was snoring heavily.

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Uhm, interesting, thought Nichole.

Inside the package was a folded up note and a disk-shaped object wrapped in bubble wrap. She glanced at the note first - it was from Gregory, alright - but decided to look at the odd object before reading it.

Unwrapping it, she found herself looking at a circular metal… stele, that seemed the right word, about a foot in diameter. The metal was silvery and lightweight, like very shiny aluminum, and an odd picture had been engraved on it. At first, she thought the picture was a depiction of Sheeva or some other Hindu deity, given its six arms, but then she remembered something.

The Malachite Fortress, she thought. Those statues of odd creatures they saw - this was a depiction of the same.

It's six arms were outstretched, like a Vitruvian Man pose; it had a knife in its lower-right hand, a mattock in its lower-left, its middle-right hand was free with an open palm, the middle-left had its palm facing up with a cube hovering over it, the upper right had a large, shuriken, and the upper-left a trident.

There were also two small holes in the disk above the entity's head, suggesting a strap or chain could be threaded through them to use the disk like an amulet.

She was about to put it down when she noticed something on the back. A map had been scratched on the otherwise plain surface. It seemed to show a path leading from a skull-like object labeled (in plain English) "headless demon", past the label "home", past "big cave" and finally to "Vaprack's Voice".

She looked at it for a while. It was one of those "maps with no name". Much like that old Indiana Jones movie, it seemed to be instructions leading to something important, but lacked anything showing what vicinity or municipality these landmarks were near.

She'd ask about it later. For now, she turned to the note. The greeting conformed it was, indeed, Gregory who sent it:

Dearest Nichole,

I'm sorry for the mood I was in earlier, and very sorry about all that has happened. It seems the burden I have saddled with you all is far greater than what I had originally asked your help with.

I'm going to have business elsewhere for the foreseeable future, and I need to ask you to look after this artifact until I return. I wish I could tell you more about it, but I myself am honestly not completely sure about its origins or purpose. I do know, however, there is no shortage of unsavory types who want it. I hope to return soon if all is well. If it isn't, I will return if I can. If I can't, and more than two months pass from the date on this package with no word from me, I need you to get this thing as far from Cauldron as possible.

I feel it might be too much to ask for you to keep it a secret from everyone, but please, try to keep it a secret from anyone whom you doubt can also keep a secret. I trust you know what I mean.

Speaking of which, I will tell you now that I do not trust the pigs who run this town farther than I could throw them. However, I would advise you to, for the time being, to try to be social and follow any reasonable request they make.

Please do not worry. I hope to see you soon.

Gregory

Nichole read this strange letter many times before lying down again on her back. Please do not worry, he says, now that is a tall order. What made her most nervous was that line about what to do if he couldn't return. She trusted his judgment and knew he could handle himself, but he really should have known that she would worry. Damn, Gregory, she thought, what have you gotten into now?

And within five minutes, she was also fast asleep.

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The next day, at 10:30 AM.

Maddie seemed to be sleeping soundly, and given all the stress she had been under, the other Shadowchasers decided to let her sleep in. Red Feather and Sonya decided to investigate the jail in the hopes of getting a chance to talk to Tongue Eater. Unfortunately, they didn't get far.

"Sorry, ladies," said the clerk at the desk, whom Maddie had dealt with before, "no visitors allowed in for now, heightened security and all that."

While this was disappointing, it was not unexpected or unwarranted. They were about to leave, but then the clerk added, "Besides, I couldn't have let you see that prisoner anyway, he is a high-risk case."

Now that was certainly unexpected and unwarranted. "Wait, wait, let me get this straight," asked Sonya, "high risk? So, he was too much of a risk to allow visitors, but Cammy wasn't?"

"Lady, look, I'm just doing what the suits tell me to do. If you want my own honest opinion here, I'm starting to think that the longer those folks are in charge, the crazier they get."

It was pointless to argue, so with a brief "thank you", they were led out of the building. Wonder if Francis is having more fun, thought Sonya.

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Half an hour earlier, Francis had found the dock where he had been told to come to and found Lord Coll there with a cross-looking expression as he checked his pocket watch. "Fashionably late, I see, Mr. Mills."

Of course, Francis was only five minutes late, and while he wasn't about to tell Coll this, he might have been even later had he not noticed Coll there - as previously noted, the overweight, flamboyant nobleman tended to stand out in a crowd. He was about to apologize (not sincerely, but he doubted Coll would believe it was sincere) when a female voice interrupted.

"Oh, pish-posh, Coll, cut the mainlander some slack."

The Shadowchaser's first interaction with Lady Rivaldi, as that is the one who had spoken, was that would stick out in his mind for a long time. At first, the enchantingly beautiful woman reminded him of Rayearth, an Incantifer who led (more or less) the Backwater Shadowchasers. Incantifers had an aura of magic around them; some compared it to an odd stink that made them intimidating and impossible to ignore.

But there was a difference. Rayearth's aura was one that would suggest you stay away if you valued your life, while Rivaldi had a variant that made you want to come close, even when you knew you shouldn't.

"You don't have the best punctuality record either, Coll."

"Oh, you should talk, Rivaldi," he growled. "It took you seven hours to get that spice I needed from Lachelein last Thursday, remember?"

"Ha-ha-ha!" laughed Rivaldi, who was more annoyed than amused. "You told me to go to the lower west side and go to the store with a chicken hanging in the front window. I defy you to find a store in the lower west side of Lachelein that does not have a chicken hanging in the front window! It was a miracle I found that stuff at all, and by the way, you still haven't reimbursed me for it."

While this argument was going on, Francis was able to get a good look at the boat at the end of the dock. It was the average size of a luxury fishing boat (about 50 feet long) and certainly of an elaborate design, the stern made from what looked like a giant nautilus shell, but no sails. Meaning it was likely…

Oh, you have got to be kidding, he thought.

"AHEM!"

The angry exclamation came from a huge, hulking man in plate armor, who had just walked onto the dock from where Francis had come. "Will you two clam up for once? I still have a headache from the last time I had to listen to you argue!"

Coll seemed to dislike this person even more than he did Rivaldi. He regained his composure, cleared his throat, and then said, "By all means, after you, Solizar."

The armored man nodded, and trudged towards the boat, Francis, Rivaldi, and Coll quickly moving out of his way. The strangest thing about all this from Francis' point of view was that, despite being a huge, hulking brute, Solizar was among the most likable members of Cauldron's ruling class he had yet to meet…

This is going to be a long day, he thought.

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In the refectory at the cathedral Maddie was slowly trying to eat. As she had expected, whatever curse she was under prevented her from telling anyone about what had happened last night, although the acolytes were clever enough to notice there was something wrong. The stuff they had given her - some sort of gruel - was supposedly very high in nutrients and vitamins, but much like everything her parents had made the same claims about, didn't taste very good at all.

She wondered if maybe the next time it happened, she could take a selfie, or somehow record it… Yeah, that's the ticket!

She was looking at her cell phone, when she heard Fawley's voice say her name. Turning around and seeing Havan leading him in the door provoked an unusual reaction from Maddie - she ran and hugged him.

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Francis, unfortunately, did not find Lord Governor Lamour any more likable than Coll.

First of all, his initial suspicions had been correct - this boat was elemental powered, meaning its engine was a bound elemental spirit, kind of like Baern but with an actual mature elemental, naturally of Water. Probably more than one, actually. Outside of Cauldron you needed a special license to own such a thing (an elemental breaking free as a result of an accident could have dire consequences to say the least) and it seemed trivial to use one for a luxury fishing boat.

Of course, it didn't seem like Lamour was planning to do much fishing at all, at least not by the usual definition of the hobby. His idea of it consisted of Rivaldi casting some sort of spell on the water to blast and blind the fish around the boat, followed by Francis and Solizar scooping them out of the water with a net. Lamour wasn't doing much other than "supervising", which itself wasn't much other than lounging on a deck chair. Of course, Coll was making himself even less useful, not doing much except standing behind his boss with his arms crossed in a sulk.

As much as these people were starting to grate on his nerves, he did his best to be polite. "If you would forgive me for being suspicious, Mr. Lamour, while I appreciate the invitation, I kind of figured you had more on your mind than… fishing."

The Lord Governor chuckled, then stood up and removed his sunglasses. "Guess I can't fool you folks, eh? Okay, okay, I did have some business to discuss here.

"You see, Mr. Mills, as you no doubt know, Cauldron has been having quite a few crises as of late. There was that issue with the trafficking ring, then the floods, the umber hulk attack, and then the whole mess yesterday. Getting the city back to some semblance of normalcy has been - and will be - a drain on our resources and funds, and it's been bad for morale among civilians. Not helped by the fact that the cost has required me to cut corners and hire those unscrupulous mercenaries, which is actually worse for morale among civilians and the city guard.

"All this has made me have to consider something that involves the one word I simply hate to hear. The one word among all words that I absolutely hate to hear. Anybody want to tell our guest the one word that I hate to hear?" He stopped, but Coll, Rivaldi, and Solizar said nothing. "Heh, heh, see? They know better." He cleared his throat thoroughly before going on, his voice sinking to a low whisper. "The word is… taxes."

"What… TAXES? You…"

Lamour quickly made a shushing sound while making a slashing gesture across his throat. "Like I said, it's a word I never like to hear. You know what they are, I assume? Nobody likes paying them, nobody wants to pay them, everyone is really upset when they have to pay more of them, but let's be honest, everyone has to pay them. It's a necessary annoyance. Rich idiots are the ones who hate it the most, and trust me, I'm not the only rich idiot in Cauldron who doesn't like that word. So, whenever I - in fact, whenever anyone - regretfully has to raise the… you know what, the richest idiots get angry, shouting for the Lord Governor to be impeached, replaced, hanged, or worse."

Worse? thought Francis.

"Long story short, this sort of thing is never popular. I'm pretty sure I can get at least some reluctant cooperation from the four churches, and I had hoped you and your associates could at least help dissuade any large-scale protests."

"You want us to be your… PR team?"

Then suddenly, Lamour grabbed him by the waist with his left arm, while lifting a net full of fish with the right one. A crowd that had assembled on the shore of the lake started cheering.

"I always say, Mr. Mills," he chuckled, "if the shoe fits, you know?"

This was, of course, humiliating, and the young Shadowchaser really wanted to get off this boat before he felt an urge to throw himself off it. Luckily for him, the boat was indeed heading back for the dock.

"One other thing I wanted to mention, Mr. Mills. I noticed that Mr. Richards and Ms. Belvins arrived yesterday. Regretfully, I could not get two additional tickets for the Demonskarr Ball, but I'm having a small dinner party on Thursday, and I wanted to invite them. You too, of course."

This struck Francis as even more suspicious; he had suspected being invited to the Demonskarr Ball might have some sinister motive, but now it seemed Lamour was counting on him (at least) still being around afterwards.

He simply nodded and said, "I'll ask them."

"Very good, I'll send the information, oh, and make sure to let me know beforehand if any of you have any allergies, I don't like the word lawsuit much either. Heh, heh."

Day nothing, thought Francis, this is going to be a long week.

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"Seriously, Maddie," said Fawley, "this stuff is grade-A compared to some of what we had back when I was in the Army. Especially on Fridays, we swore they just took everything that hadn't been eaten for the past week, put it all together, and called it 'hash'."

Maddie giggled. "Thank you so much for coming."

"We were worried - you were… Off the map for about ten minutes."

Ten minutes? she thought. It was much longer than that.

"I… was in another place, Professor. Some other world, other dimension."

"Can you describe it?" he asked.

Of course, she could - she would never forget it. Before she could start, however, Fawley told her to wait, and then produced a notepad and paper.

It all came out quickly in a description that lasted a good five minutes, all she could remember about that horrible wasteland where the Turbo Duel was held. Fawley didn't interrupt, other than to tell her a few times to slow down, though his expression showed looks of concern and puzzlement.

When she finally finished describing the mountain top where she had been beaten, where Cammy seemed to gain a surge that restored her powers and armor, Fawley looked at everything he had written and said, "Hmm…"

"Hmm?" asked Cammy. "Is that a good hmm or a bad hmm?"

"It's a hmm that means I'm going to have to look into this further." He stood up, placing the notepad in his jacket. "Don't fret, Madelyn, Colfer has an extensive catalog of other dimensions, this shouldn't take more than a day. Until then, enjoy the Demonskarr Ball."

Maddie almost fell out of her chair. She had almost forgotten about that!

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"I am not coming out."

"Come on, Maddie, it can't be that bad."

"Oh sure, you a betting man, Francis?"

It was early evening in the closure of St. Cuthbert's Cathedral, two days after the bombing attack and Cammy's escape, only an hour to the time they were due to show up at the Cabaret Arcana. Havan and Illewyn were helping with the costumes - which seemed so finely made that the four Shadowchasers were afraid of even smudging them - and it seemed Maddie was a little reluctant to be seen in hers.

Of course, Francis wasn't certain about his either. The odd outfit included a black cape, tight leggings, and boots, all of it black with a violet lining to the cape. His upper torso was mostly uncovered, except for a glove and sleeve combination on his left arm, connected to a sort of armor that covered the upper left part of his torso. The glove had claws, and the odd material looked like metal but seemed as lightweight and flexible as cloth. The costume had also included a man's wig, a short, unkempt style of platinum-blonde hair with short horns on the forehead. He guessed this was some sort of anime-style evil sorcerer getup, but no information on the theme had been included.

Behind him, Sonya seemed a little unsure of hers as she was looking herself over in the mirror. The designer seemed to have been going for a "demonic cat-girl" look, the costume including a cropped overbust corset, a short skirt (with a tail), opera gloves (with small, sharp-looking claws on both hands), knee-high boots with heels, and a choker, all of it black made from some sort of latex or soft leather. It also included a raven-black wig that resembled a 1920s bob haircut - again, with small horns. She casually turned while looking at the mirror to focus on her back; Francis had to stop and tell her "No, Sonya, it doesn't make your butt look fat," twice so far.

Red Feather - who was reclining on a sofa behind Sonya, seemed to like her costume, even if it was risqué. The designer seemed to have been going for something of a "warrior girl" look, with a bustier and boots that were made of the same lightweight, flexible metal, and long, tight pants that seemed to be made of both black leather and the same metal. The back of the bustier had wings (that oddly seemed made of the same metal), and the costume included a matching helmet with jagged wings on the sides.

Right now, she was studying the letter of invitation they had gotten some weeks ago:

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

It seemed formal and polite, but then, so were the invitations set to the victims of the Night of the Long Knives, supposedly. Most concerning to her were the consistent rumors that the Demonskarr Ball was a front for some dark ritual or blood rite. She had inquired about that, but had found nothing more than hearsay, most of it contradictory.

"Maddie, come on, we have to be there in an hour. It can't be that bad."

He heard a long, heaving sigh, and the door finally opened. "Okay… Maybe it could…"

Maddie's costume looked like a bustier roughly in the shape of an inverted triangle, with a triangle-shaped window cut out in a way to feature what was often referred to as under-cleavage. The lower point of the triangle came just inches from covering her navel on her exposed midriff, and the skirt was dangerously short, above garter belts and fishnet stockings connected to knee-high boots. The whole ensemble was dark violet with gold trim, with opera gloves (again, with claws on the fingers) and the bustier also had wings on the back, though in her case, stiff, leathery, and bat-like. Even odder was the wig; it was shoulder-length violet hair, the same hue as the outfit, with bangs and a vertical white stripe, just above her left eye. Again, it had horns, but these were on the temples.

"What in Cuthbert's name is keeping that up?" asked Havan.

"City decency laws, I assume." Maddie stopped to look herself over in the mirror. "So, did the Lord Governor give any reason as to why he wanted us to dress as the Harem from Hell?"

"No, but I have a few ideas. Still, there is one benefit to a masquerade ball." Francis took four items from one of the boxes, the final accessory that came with them - masks. "Just all be careful folks, these are rented after all."

"We could have just placed an order to Fredericks of Hollywood," sighed Maddie. "Okay, okay, I guess one night wouldn't hurt."

"Don't forget those." Sonya pointed to their Duel Disks, placed on another table.

"She had barely put the mask on when there was a loud click and a flash. They turned towards the door where Nichole and Hank had been watching, Nichole holding her mobile phone. Having just taken a selfie."

"Great picture folks!" she giggled. "This will be a hit once Karl posts it on Penstagram!"

"Nichole, don't you dare!" shouted Maddie. "Nichole, come back here! NICHOLE!"

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With a "good luck!" and "have a nice time!" from Nichole and Hank, they were on their way. While worried about the rumors of guests being used as sacrifice in some unholy blood ritual were still in their minds, they figured that even if such rumors were true, it would be nothing worse than anything they'd dealt with before.

The Cabaret Arcana was an impressive cross-shaped building covered in ivy, with a great central tower that rose as high as the city walls. As they drew nearer, they could see an engraved sign upon the ironbound door that said, "Members Only." The faint sounds of laughter and music could be heard from within over the background noise of the city.

"Looks like this is the place!" Sonya exclaimed, hopping up the stairs to knock firmly on the heavy oaken door.

The door opened promptly, revealing an older gentleman clad in simple but exceptionally cut garments, with graying hair that had been trained until not a single strand seemed out of place. He looked down at the four adventurers with a featureless expression that seemed clearly well-schooled. "Yes?"

"Uhm," said Francis. He unfurled the invitation and turned it forward. The man raised an eyebrow but otherwise said nothing, carefully reviewing the writ. Then he nodded to himself and said, "Ah, the umber hulk people. I am Renjin. Come inside, if you please."

He ushered them into a marble foyer that would itself have been a roomy cottage for a family of four. An elaborately woven carpet probably worth more than all the homes in one city block of Cauldron was sprawled across the center of the foyer, beneath a many-armed chandelier that shone with what was probably genuine gold, rather than just gilding. Three tall arches offered access to different wings of the structure, but Renjin again held up their progress as he stood beside a large mahogany desk that had a look of great age about it—as well as a buffed shine that was so perfect that it could likely serve as a mirror in a pinch.

Renjin presented them with a ledger and pen, obviously intending for them to sign it. As Francis took the pen, he added, "Please leave those here." The valet pointed to Francis' sword. "I assure you, there will be no need for them here."

While they were reluctant to do so, Francis noticed several armaments stashed on racks nearby, showing this was an established rule. Even so, after Francis, Maddie, and Sonya placed their swords on the desk, Red Feather still seemed very reluctant to part with her quiver and bow.

"Oh, Mr. Mills, and uhm, Red Feather, our host requests to speak to you briefly in the Grand Library." Before they could inquire, he added, "She is very hard to miss." He turned to open the door, then stopped and pointed to Red's quiver and bow. "There are no stags to be hunted in the Great Library, ma'am."

The elf nodded, and with a sudden snap of her wrist, launched the bow across the foyer, to settle perfectly onto a rack sparsely populated with a few outdoor coats and cloaks. "Try to make sure it doesn't wander off," she couldn't resist adding as a jab, appreciating the offended look that flashed briefly across the butler's smooth facade.

As the door opened, Francis whispered to her, "Nice."

Red Feather harrumphed.

With that unpleasant experience out of the way, it seemed they were finally, after a month of anticipation and anxiety, about to enter Cauldron's biggest social event of the year.

The Demonskarr Ball awaited…

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And that is it for now.

And before we sign off, it's time for yet another contribution to the seedier side of the setting, another De-Facto Files by Rob of Eternal Fire!

Shadowchaser Files:

Subgroup: De-Factos files

File type: Member Profile and Major points in the De-Factos charter.

Status of De-Facto Security has remained in a state of flux since the company's founding. On the one hand, as a business, De-Facto Security is completely legit. The company builds and sells security systems to individuals and businesses, both human and Shadowkind alike. However, within the city of Pittsburgh, the founders have actively acted in vigilante activities in an effort to enforce the Great Treaty. With a record of known vigilante activity, any overt connections between the two groups must remain limited in any non business related encounters.

Thankfully both James and Jalal thought of those issues, and as such, James agreed to place restrictions on his organization's activities. James took it one step further, and placed those provisions in his company charters, both with Mundane and Shadowchaser Government authorities. Full copies of the charter exist in electronic and hard copy form, and the Shadow specific regulations are a part of every founding document in every De-Factos facility location. The number of regulations that James Redfield has placed on his own organization are too numerous to list here, but there are a few important provisions that were agreed on: De-Factos Security company expansion, Restrictions on Shadowchaser styled activity, and Possibility of individuals transferring into Jalal's employ.

Currently De-Factos Security has offices in Portland Oregon, Salt Lake City Utah, and St. Louis Missouri, and several factories throughout those cities and the surrounding suburban areas. Pittsburgh Pennsylvania remains the corporate headquarters and is also the only city with a fully staffed 'De-Factos Shadowchaser unit' on hand. That said, each of these offices has a small handful of employees who engage in gathering information on criminal activity in and around the respective city areas. That information is then compiled into files and then handed over to the local Shadowchaser teams on a monthly basis as per the second main point of the charter which restricts all 'Shadowchaser activity' to either the defense of self or company property and intelligence gathering. (Files for those operatives will be written up later) The third point relates to the possibility of an individual De-Factos member becoming an official Shadowchaser.

To this day there have been only a small handful of members who have successfully achieved that status. Two of them gained Jalal's attention due to two events that happened nearly simultaneously with each other. These two events were the "Joystealer Migration", and "The Vecna Hunt". Some may have speculated that these two events were somehow related, but at this point in time there is not enough evidence to support such a correlation.

What follows the first of two Letters of Recommendation written by James Redfield in support of the two De-Factos apprentices that played a large role in quashing these events. It should be noted however, that both apprentices worked on both cases, but each individual is more associated with one event over the other. As such, the Joystealer Migration will receive more focus in this file while "The Vecna Hunt" will have more details released in the next file sent out.

Another thing to note is the timeline in which these letters were written. Both letters were written in the aftermath of the two events, and that makes these letters rather old seeing as the cases were last active about three months before the events of Ember's apprenticeship under Jinx. (As told in the original Shadowchasers story).

To: Jalal Stormbringer, Founder and Leader of the Shadowchasers

Subject: Personal Recommendation of Tyrland Fireblaze in his quest to join the Shadowchasers.

My Dear Jalal,

As it stands, my team has remained vigilant in eliminating the final Joystealers. Along the way I have heard nothing but praise for sending Tyrland to other regions. He has requested to join your organization on a permanent basis. This is a request that I have no reason to deny. Aside from the attached profile, I fully endorse his transfer to your organization. As such, you can consider this to be my official 'Letter of Recommendation'. First off, I will say that Tyrland is a fine officer that has risen above all expectations. I have no doubt that he will serve the Shadowchasers well in whatever role you place him in.

Tyrland of course has risen from the slums of Pittsburgh; including the many trials that come with living in an area controlled by X-Twilight. His arrival also came soon after you wrote to me concerning the appearance of several of Vecna's servants arriving in eastern Ohio, Central Pennsylvania, Northern West Virginia, and around Lake Erie. In that same exchange I recall asking for some aid in dealing with the rising number of Joystealers migrating to the Pittsburgh area.

The Joystealer Migration: Pittsburgh has always had a larger population density percentage than any other state in the United States, but there was a seven month period of time when almost 700 Joystealers made their way to the Pittsburgh area each week. The De-Factos were struggling to contain the constant influx and had to call Jalal to formally request aid from the Shadowchasers. As a result, the Shadowchasers managed to severely halt the migrations from West Virginia, Ohio and Maryland. Those three teams helped cut into the number of Joystealers coming into the city area, but the northern sectors and the city itself had already needed to be cleared away.

Once the city was cleared, the largest influx of Joystealers dropped to about 10 Joystealers per month. This was when the official Shadowchasers pulled out and the De-Factos have further reduced the totals to exactly two Joystealer appearances per month. In that time, one De-Factos apprentice rose to the challenge, and ended up taking down the most Joystealers out of the entire force. To this day, Tyrland remains as one of the worst and most hated enemies of the Joystealers. Truly living up to his reputation and devotion to 'breaking the shackles of the Eoshee'. And earning him the universal title "Shackle Breaker".

He has also demonstrated a wisdom that almost seems to come from Odin himself as he managed to pick up clues regarding the reasoning behind why a Vitreous Drinker was entering the area. His deductions helped the other apprentice at the time, a Tabaxi known as Lightning Strikes Thrice to take down the abomination. Tyrland was also able to determine what might have been the Vitreous Drinker's target and deliver it into Fredrick Luther's hands who then gave it to you. (Editor's note: For information on Lightning Strikes Thrice and the Vitreous Drinker incident, see chapter 11 of Shadowchasers: Flood Season.)

These two events, his wit, courage in the face of danger, and above all, his willingness to aid those in need are my reasons for my endorsement. I hope that you will be willing to allow this transfer. I promise you that you will not have reason to regret his admission.

I wish you and your people well.

Sincerely,

James Redfield, Founder and CEO of De-Facto Security and leader of the De-Factos

Name: Tyrland Fireblaze

Age; 23

Race: Tiefling (Zauriel line)

Appearance: Blood red skin with a long tail usually wrapped around his waist like a belt and red eyes. He has a pair of gray horns that curve back in a manner that flows with his straight black hair. He sports a strange black colored birthmark on his chest that resembles a complete 'Sharingan' and a tattoo of two Ravens on each shoulder. His tall and well-built stature easily give the impression of authority. A second tattoo outlining his left eye gives the look of an eye patch.

Mundane humans see him as a muscular, gruff man with tanned skin and amber color eyes with black hair. His birthmark is still visible as are his tattoos. He generally wears dark clothes and a silver ring on his right hand bearing Odin's symbol, and sunglasses should he wish to remain inconspicuous.

Personality: Tyrland, having endured growing up in Pittsburgh, has a very no nonsense approach to life, his responsibilities and his personal mission. He tries not to comment on a given situation until he needs to but has a very compassionate and open mind. It's not uncommon for him to spend time feeding crows/ravens when he can or volunteering at the local food bank or orphanages to help people who feel 'chained down by their burdens.' Tyrland is also a bit of a legal bookworm in that he spends a fair bit of time in the legal section of both Carnegie Magical Library, and the normal library. This stems not only from a strong compassion for others but also due to his family's unique history with the Blood War, an unnamed prison dimension, and an innate hatred of fiendish, or even burdensome contracts, or laws. (All of which will be detailed later on). This has also given him a tendency to look beyond what he initially sees or reads.

He holds a healthy skepticism for politicians and rhetoric, and is not easily persuaded by empty platitudes, preferring instead to verify first hand whether or not all the facts are considered before he makes a final decision on which side of a conflict to support. Once he makes said choice though, he remains steadfast in his support. This is especially true when it comes to joystealers. Knowing firsthand how an unwanted and unfair contract with an evil entity can be (see the following section on his family and personal history.) he easily found empathy for the Eoshee. His aggressive approach to attempting to free those bound by such contracts has also placed a proverbial 'target' on his back with a wide range of shadow beings who rely on such dealings for survival. (Editor's note: For more on how the Eoshee were tricked into slavery by the Unseelie and the details of their history, see chapter 12 of the original Shadowchasers.)

History: Tyrland was born in the Pittsburgh area, but one family memory has remained burned into his consciousness from before he was even born. That being the memory of his great-grandmother pledging the family's allegiance to Zariel and her infernal army in exchange for Zariel's aid in helping the family to leave the seemingly inescapable prison dimension in which they were held. Zariel agreed and held up her end of the bargain freeing the family from being imprisoned in the mists, but what Tyrland's great grandmother didn't know was that her own son, Tyrland's grandfather, had already escaped the prison dimension. As such the deal stood and Zariel's power remained embedded within the family. Soon after escaping, Tyrland's grandfather and his bride were pulled away from the homeworld of Shadow, dropping them in the still thriving city of Pittsburg.

(Editor's Note: Zariel is an Archdevil who rules Avernus, the first layer of Hell, the most influential general of the infernal armies of the Blood War and as Morgana's Kin would attest, the most diplomatic of Archdevils - which means she is one of the few who concede that mortals are of greater value than vermin. This is via necessity, as Avernus is the most easily accessed of the Nine Layers and thus the beachhead of almost all demonic invasions of the eternal Blood War, and the armies under her personal command the first defense against such. Given the enormous scope of this task, she has been known to recruit, conscript, or even shanghai soldiers into her ranks and is willing to make deals outside of the standard Faustian pact methods to do so. As one might assume, one must always be wary of the conditions of such bargains.)

Tyrland was the first tiefling born into his family after the escape from his grandmother's prison but when he turned 13, he saw a vision of Zariel calling for him to join her. The city had already fallen to the crime bosses by then and as such he turned to flee, desperate to avoid the fate that he had never agreed to serve. Calling out for help of any sort, he ran into one of the few zones that, at the time, had not yet been claimed by one of Pittsburgh's three Criminal Organizations. In so doing he stumbled into a small church dedicated to the old Norse God, Odin, who in turn broke the bond that held Tyrland to Zariel's service, though he retained his appearance and abilities as a tiefling of Zauriel's line. In gratitude, Tyrland swore his loyalty as a Paladin of Odin, and took on the vow to free those who had suffered from bonds like he once did. From then on, he swore the Oath of the Shackle-Breaker.

It was not long after, however, that he stumbled on Sarah Blaze. Sarah brought him into the organization and became his mentor. In that period of time, however, he ended up being roped into the previously described events involving the Joystealer Migration and the Vecna Hunt. During that time, he underwent the four trials for admission into the De-Factos, which I based on what information I could gather from you and the files found during the death of the last Shadowchaser in the city limits.

I have no idea how you choose the trials for your men, but I found myself shuffling through various challenges before settling on the "Final attack orders" (no monsters could go into defense mode and you had to attack on every turn if possible) "Non spellcasting area" (your deck cannot contain any spell cards) and "Level Limit area B" (only allowed monsters from of level 3 or lower, (with an added list of restricted cards). His final trial was when he went to bring in the leader of a Dark Obsidian middle family prostitution ring. His reasoning was that he saw the ring capture a friend of his from his days on the streets.

Deck: Tyrland has several different decks that he can use depending on a given scenario. Though he tends to use either Light monsters or Warriors. The one deck that I have seen him use the most is a Lightsworn deck.

(Author's Note: In stories set later in the continuity, Tyrland would upgrade to the more powerful Lightray sub-archetype.)

Story Ideas: Tyrland has gained a reputation as a "Shackle-Breaker" which brings with it the ire of both the Nine Hells and most other Shadowkind that rely on rigged contracts. As such he would fit nicely into any story that deals with some of the vilest crimes ranging from abuse to trafficking. He also would fit in with any story involving Joystealers or even in a story that takes place in a region that is starved of hope seeing as he strives to release the innocent from undue burdens. Any villain associated with Hell could appear as an enemy, including Calla, Medea, and Calypso, and possibly even Nichole's archfoe Madison Vance, should a story include his release or escape from prison. Given his fealty to Odin, he would also include Loki and Nidhogg among his foes. By the same token, he could be part of - or even lead - a team that included followers of Kord or Eilistraee on their roster (both of whom have similar goals) but such a theme should not go too far. Jalal doesn't desire any long-running conflicts to turn into holy wars.