Forgotten Realms and Fallen Empires
by Carycomic
Author's foreword: This story- -primarily, a BTVS /TLWH crossover- -was partially inspired by a fantasy rpg idea suggested by Vrakmul over at Comic Vine. It is therefore his intellectual property and I am merely using a variant of it with only the utmost respect and admiration in mind. The rest of the characters and concepts are copyrighted by (and enriching) a whole bunch of people other than me! Particularly, the owners of CRUEL INTENTIONS, DUNGEONS & DRAGONS, DUNGEON SIEGE, DRAGON CHRONICLES: FIRE AND ICE, MAGIC: THE GATHERING, SIMPLY IRRESISTIBLE, TROLL and WORLD OF WARCRAFT (et al).
NEW YORK, NEW YORK
(MAR. 27, 2014)
"Meet Ethan Rayne," said Dolan 36. "Nephandic half-brother of the late Dr. Derek Rayne. Perhaps the greatest Precept of San Francisco House in Legacy history! Seventeen years ago, Ethan was Embraced by a Caitiff called Drusilla. Following which, he became partially blood-bonded to Dracula, himself! He then diablerized a relatively harmless Kiasyd, named Clem... which, in turn, automatically rendered him a minor affiliate of the Sabbat, as well."
The clerical scribe threw several blown-up photographs down on the table top. Three of them, Kirlian photos of the vampires in question. Kaulder picked up the first one, however, and looked at it, very intently.
"Heh!" he grunted. "A vampirized chaos-worshiper. Definitely _not_ a good thing!"
"No, indeed," replied Dolan. "That's why the Watchers' Council brought him to our attention. Their Slayers are too preoccupied keeping the Cleveland Hellmouth from getting out of hand."
"Do they have any idea why he's here?"
Dolan shook his head.
"All they know is that he met with an Immortal named Benny Carbassa, who keeps his head by peddling information to the highest bidder. That's how he came to the attention of the Watchers!"
"And why they've now made him our headache," added Kaulder with a grin.
Whereupon, the world's oldest witch hunter went over to a tall cabinet with a most-unusual picture embossed on its walnut-stained oak doors. A trio of Greek Orthodox crosses, a large center one with two smaller versions at eleven o'clock and five o'clock, respectively, and a battle axe intersecting the center cross from seven o'clock to one o'clock, all done in gold leaf!
THE WORLD OF DARKNESS, BRONX ZOO
They materialized in a shimmer that went completely unnoticed due to the dimly-lit surroundings of the closed-down exhibit.
There were four of them; three men and a woman. The oldest of the men (a bushy-bearded Caucasian with salt-and-pepper hair) appeared to be in his mid-forties. The goatee-sporting Chinese-American man, to his left, looked ten years younger. While to his right stood an exotically beautiful woman (apparently in her mid-twenties) with long black hair and moderately light-brown skin.
All three of them were staring at the red-haired white man with the defiantly mischievous grin on his face.
"Are you sure you have it straight, now?" demanded the salt-and-pepper male (often referred to as "Alpha").
"Yes-yes-yes! What do you think I am; a sodding congenital idiot?"
"No. Simply an attention-deficit trickster who needs to accept the fact, once and for all, that _nothing_ is permanently chaotic, in and of itself! Chaos is simply part of the Grand Design. The process by which older, ineffective orders make way for newer, better ones."
"Fine, then. Ethan Rayne, Avatar of Chaos, at your service."
The exaggerated bow that followed only served to emphasize the blatant sarcasm in Ethan's voice. He then shimmered away to his next stop. At which point, the young woman (sometimes referred to as "Gamma") looked at their acknowledged leader.
"Are you sure that recruiting him was such a good idea? The man's even more incorrigible than he was as a mortal!"
"Perhaps," replied Alpha. "But, if our latest attempt to create the first link, in a pan-dimensional chain of Utopias, is to finally succeed, we need someone with a suitably devious mind working for us."
"Once it has," asked the one called Beta. "...can we destroy him, then?"
"Most assuredly."
LONDON, ENGLAND
(JAN. 28, 1981)
The three dour-looking men met in the office of Sir Roger Wyndham-Pryce; Precept of the Legacy's Ruling House.
"What do you mean, 'It was a false alarm'?" demanded Quentin Travers, Chairman of the Council of Watchers.
"I went to L.A. Community General Hospital as directed," replied William Sloan, Sir Roger's personal leg man. "I met with my cousin, Mark, on the prearranged pretext. And the only unusual occurrence he mentioned, in the course of our conversation, was the disappearance of two newborn infants from the maternity ward nursery. Two-thirds of a set of triplets, in fact! His son, Steve, is one of the multitude of police officers assigned to locating them."
"Were they girls, by any chance?" inquired Sir Roger, in a somewhat softer voice.
Sloan nodded, adding that the only other birth of note, at that hospital, had been that of Hank and Joyce Summers' own daughter.
"Before you ask, though," he concluded. "...I managed to sneak a peek at some of the proud parents' baby pictures. No Mark of Sinea anywhere on her person!* I must therefore conclude that either the Mark is on one of the abducted girls. Or our usual locator spells aren't working properly, for some reason. In any event, we must continue looking for new Potentials elsewhere!
WOODSIDE, QUEENS
NEW YORK CITY
(MARCH 27, 2014)
Benny Carbassa exited the Cock & Bull Pub, guzzling on a bottle of his favorite beer as he headed towards the nearest subway station. While passing the entrance to a nearby alley, however, he suddenly lost his grip on the bottle as he found himself being hauled into it by a pair of inescapably brawny hands! The right one of which was soon holding a broadsword at his neck, while the left one kept him pinned to the alley wall.
"Hello, Benny," Kaulder practically sang out. "What can you tell me about Ethan Rayne in the three seconds you have left... before I decapitate you? One."
"Y-Y-You're bluffing, Kaulder," Benny stammered. "You're not that kind of Immortal. My Quickening would be wasted!"
"You're point being...? Two."
"OK! Okay. He wanted me to inform him as to when a certain mortal convict was getting out of prison. I did. He then wanted me to keep track of all her movements! I did that, too. And then. . ."
"Wait a second," ordered Kaulder, edging the sword closer. "Back up. 'Her movements?' This ex-convict is a woman?"
"Y-Y-Yeah! And, today, he wanted me to tell him where she was going to eat!"
"Really. And where, if anyplace, is she eating out, today?"
"A place called 'Shelton's' on Fifth Avenue."
"Hello, sir," said the head waitress. "Welcome to Shelton's! How may we help you?"
"Thank you. Table for two, for lunch, please. My guest should be joining me, shortly."
"Certainly," replied the middle-aged woman. "Although, all our tables are filled at the moment. But, I can take down your name, so you can wait in the bar until I announce a vacancy has opened up "
"That would be fine," replied Ethan with a grin. "The name is Connor. Rhett Connor!"
tbc
*See DIFFERENT CITY/SAME OLD CRAP.