Hello, everyone!
Been quite a month, really. First, I had to go to the optometrist, and while my eyes are a lot healthier than I had expected (no glaucoma or other problems associated with type-2 diabetes) I need to get reading glasses. Also was afraid I might have had carpal tunnel syndrome, but again, seems I "only" had basal joint arthritis (yeah, I had to look it up too) so hopefully, the cortisone shot will do the job.
Yeah, I'm getting older. Something I realize every time I go to a restaurant and hear muzak that was popular when I was twelve, or I realize that a song that the soccer moms were condemning back then is now being used to in a commercial for fruit drinks.
Happens to the best of us, I guess. I often wonder if the reason I write these fanfics is because I need a hobby to keep from going nuts.
So… with all that in mind, here's my latest chapter, enjoy!
And next time you watch the news, stay optimistic, it helps.
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Shadowchasers
The Demonskar Legacy
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Chapter Three
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Out of Sight, Out of Mind
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The Shadowchasers had come to this event hoping to find out just what the deal was that Dorison was trying to relate, and how he had intended to use the Old Law of Peers, including who the initiator and intended victim of this antiquated challenge was. They had gotten their answers - Nichole's assumption that Gregory had made the challenge had sadly been confirmed, and Lieutenant Zhent was the target. However, Zhent had decided to intervene himself, bringing a squad of Alleybashers to arrest Dorsian, a reckless and dangerous move that had turned the protest into a riot which had now turned deadly.
Clearly, the biggest concern now was helping Zhent and his men before they were lynched.
"Red Feather, Sonya," started Francis, "we have to… Ah, crap." The two had already rushed forward into the crowd, managing to knock down a few of the more aggressive rioters with some well-placed punches, cowing many of the others into backing off. Francis sighed and followed; a man holding a shovel blocked his path, and for some reason, saw Francis as an enemy, swinging the improvised weapon wildly at him. Of course, Francis had dealt with worse, and caught the handle of the weapon in mid-swing, then countered with a punch to the man's face that knocked him backwards and into two others nearby, knocking all three of them down.
Five more rioters were looking at him warily. "Anyone else?" he dared. Deciding against it quickly, they turned and fled.
Francis lifted his left arm, hitting the alert button on his Disk several times. There was no way the four of them could manage this alone.
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Dorisan, atop the podium, tried to restore order with shouted admonitions to the crowd, but it was clear that the situation had grown out of hand. The youth with the knife, along with a few others who had drawn weapons and attacked in the initial surge, were nowhere to be seen, having disappeared somehow during the first moments of chaos. He strongly started to suspect that the assailant was not among his supporters – someone had set him up, manipulating the whole situation to turn him into the guilty party. Stepping backwards to the back edge of the podium, he drew a scroll from a pouch on his belt (a bag of holding, something most wizards consider a must-have) and broke the wax seal to open the rolled parchment. Quickly yet carefully, he started to read the incantation scribed upon it in runic text.
He could not see the two eyes fixed upon him, the large, feminine eyes looking down from behind a narrow window within the tower that rose above the Town Hall. Lady Rinaldi was watching the scene with intense scrutiny. Nor could he sense the magic that was at work there, nor the small breach between dimensions behind her in the small room, unobserved by anyone.
Nobody, that is, except for one person in the crowd. The short man with the notebook and two dogs took note of the odd feeling, making a quick glance upward across the square before the ranting and cursing from the crowd drew his attention back to the situation at hand.
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"OUT OF THE WAY!"
Sonya's voice boomed through the mob as she and Red Feather reached the edge of the melee. Far stronger Shadowkind knew how fierce Sonya Clarkson could be when angry, and most of the mob figured that out quickly. They let her and Red pass, clearing a path to the two who didn't get the hint, who were still doing their best to pummel the now unconscious and badly injured Lieutenant Zhent. This ended quickly, with one punch from Sonya knocking one of them down, the other turning and running rather than face her, giving Red Feather the chance to help Zhent.
"Get your men back!" Red Feather half-carried-half-dragged Zhent into the ring that had been made by Zhent's squad, or rather, those that were left. Six of the Alleybashers had fled (including the daedon and rhoxodan not that this was all a surprise to Red Feather) leaving only four to help the six experienced soldiers. They had formed a ring of open space; most of the crowd knew that entering the reach of their halberds was foolish, but many had to learn that lesson the hard way, given that one of the half-orc mercenaries was holding a bad wound in his abdomen. But at least twice as many protesters had taken wounds ranging from minor to serious, and two men lay on the stones, bleeding and unconscious. This, it seemed, had made the crowd even angrier, as the ten guards' clothes were covered with filth from the food and garbage that had been thrown at them, and bruised from the other things the mob managed to throw at them.
And by now, they were close to panic. "There's too many!" shouted one of them, the sergeant stripes on his uniform suggesting he was in charge at the moment. Indeed, it looked as though a sea of humanity separated them from the safety of the Town Hall, sixty paces across the square. A paving stone hurtled out from the crowd, glancing off an Alleybasher's skull, staggering the unlucky mercenary.
"Back then!" Sonya yelled, gesturing toward the end of a row of shops that jutted out into the square along Obsidian Avenue, the nearest wall only twenty paces distant. The guard sergeant quickly took the hint and waved his hand, directing his men in that direction, driving back the scattered protestors with desultory thrusts of their halberds. One of the mercenaries helped his injured comrade to his feet and followed, while Red Feather warded their rear, pointing her bow at the crowd to dissuade them.
Unfortunately, not all were swayed. "Why do you help them?" yelled one of the protestors, a man in his mid-fifties. "They take our coin, and now our blood as well!" The cry was echoed by a dozen others, but they wisely did not move to challenge the Red Feather.
Red Feather looked at them sternly, and said, "Blood given for blood is never a fair trade."
Her tone and cold look seemed to do the job - they backed off as Sonya guided the others towards the storefronts. The only objection seemed to come from someone who was already there.
"You seriously believe that garbage?"
The wisecrack had come from Todd, who it seemed, had the same idea as to where to take shelter as they did, and it seemed his former claims of being sent to "observe" the situation alone weren't completely true. Richemont - another member of the Stormblades, and the member who seemed the most lucid - was with him, likely having been there to save him from whoever had given him a black eye and a lump on his head. Richemont himself was bleeding from the forehead but it didn't seem serious.
"So, you guys were watching 'covertly'?" asked Sonya.
"We like to keep an eye on him," replied Richemont.
Red Feather, meanwhile, was propping Zhent up against the wall of the storefront, as Francis finally caught up, drawing his weapon and turning to the mob. "Leave!" he shouted. "There's nothing left to see here!"
Most of the men and women in the crowd seemed reluctant to disobey him, and a few complied, filtering towards the edges of the mob. Zhent's men had managed to push their way to the relative safety of one of the stores, although food and rocks were still being thrown at them, and there were still at least two hundred people in the square in front of the Town Hall, hurling objects and expletives at the guards trying to ward the entrance.
"You outlanders can't stop all of them," said Richemont.
Francis was about to reply, but he was cut off by a scream from the direction of the speaker's platform behind them.
"Damn… Maddie."
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When the guardsmen had arrived, Maddie had quickly worked herself deeper into the crowd closer to the pedestal, giving her a clearer vantage of what was going on. Much like Dorisan, she figured out quickly that the assailant and the others with him had likely intended to sabotage the gathering rather than support it. As the crowd came alive, however, provoked to assault and violence by the actions of those agents, Maddie quickly had to switch her priorities, lest she be trampled by the mob. She twisted and tumbled her way to the edge of the speakers' platform, its solidity giving her some respite from the surge of angry people.
She saw Dorisan cast his spell from a scroll, and then draw a potion from the same pouch at his waist. But even as the merchant uncorked the vial and drew it to his lips, she felt a sudden chill pass over her. Something... wrong, something that didn't belong was there, having materialized before the man, an amorphous cloud with a vaguely humanoid form, hanging in the air with twin wisps of red flame for eyes. Dorisan had backed up to the edge of the platform, giving him no space to avoid it; the thing lashed out at him with a rough tentacle of its own foggy substance. The vial exploded as it struck, and Dorisan's cloak and tunic tore open, scoring the flesh beneath.
He screamed and fell down from the platform to the crowd below. The nearby townsfolk that saw the creature cried out and fled, while several others just stood there, transfixed with horror at the sight of the creature. Dorisan managed to get to his feet fast and ran from it, although he was forced to dart and dodge around both groups of people as he sought escape. He was fast, almost unnaturally so, likely enhanced somehow by the spell he'd cast from the scroll.
Unfortunately, outrunning an air elemental is nearly impossible. The term "fast as the wind" is not hyperbole when used to describe a beast that is literally living wind. Especially true with the rare predatory type of air elemental known as a breathdrinker.
Dorisan perhaps sensed its rush, for he turned just in time to meet the creature streaking down out of the sky toward it, its foggy tentacle reshaping into a sharp, scythe-shaped blade. The hapless merchant dodged aside from its first swipe, but even as the first one missed, a second one swung, tearing across the man's torso and leaving an ugly red gash in its wake.
He heard an evil chuckle, seemingly what a cold winter gale might sound like if it could chuckle, and then the creature dissipated, vanishing in front of him.
Had it fled? Not likely… Invisibility was the natural state of an air elemental; it actually took effort for them to let themselves be seen. Dorison could still feel the unnatural chill in the air. He quickly recited an incantation and waved his hand, and a glittering field of glowing motes cascaded from his palm, hanging in the air and outlining the form of the invisible creature clearly. Unfortunately, the ten seconds he had used to cast the spell had been ten seconds too long, as the creature darted at him again, slashing him painfully across the chest once more.
Maddie, of course, had rushed to aid Dorison right when the elemental had first attacked, but had been stunned by the bright flash of the glitterdust he had cast, and her vision had been blurred by the lingering afterimages. She took a moment to readjust her eyes and focus on the creature again, and then pulled her sword from her hip as she dashed up the stairs onto the podium. She had no idea whether such a weapon could hurt this thing, but the only other option was to let poor Dorisan be torn to pieces while she watched.
But before she could attack, the question became redundant, as a ray of fire sliced through the crowd, tearing into the fabric of the creature. Whatever its resistance to human weapons, the thing was clearly hurt by fire, as it shrieked and cowered from the sudden assault. Maddie turned to see, of all people, Annah standing there, with flames surrounding her right hand and her eyes red with the same flames.
Annah was another member of the Stormblades, and most likely, their leader. From the first time they had seen them, she reminded Maddie of the snarky, mean-spirited, and often popular girls in high school who made a game out of antagonizing freshmen. She had never struck Maddie as the type who knew arcane magic, but she'd concern herself with that later, as she now needed no further impetus to action.
She leapt forward towards the elemental, and her sword sliced through the beast's cloudy form. Her strike met with no resistance, tearing a small portion of its substance with the passage of her blade. The thing turned to her, and for a moment, as those baleful eyes of flame fell upon her, she felt her breath freeze in her throat.
Her arms felt leaden, and refused to obey her commands as the creature menacingly flew towards the Shadowchaser. She felt a cold terror as it came closer, extending a tendril of fog toward her half-open mouth…
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Damn, thought Red Feather.
She had managed to bring Zhent to an alley between two stores, and was doing her best to, at very least, keep him upright and in a sitting position. He was badly hurt; at the very least, he had a concussion and broken bones. While Red knew a thing or two about first aid, she lacked even the most basic first aid equipment, and certainly couldn't carry him to someone who did. In fact, she couldn't do much other than wait for further help. Even worse, a low, painful groan indicated he was coming to.
"Calm down," she urged, "it's going to be okay."
"Wanna bet?"
What happened next was both sudden and painful. Someone behind her grabbed her by the back of the neck, and then flung her against the wall at the end of the alleyway.
"Remember me, princess?"
She certainly did, only too well, in fact. Horatio was one of the Alleybashers whom she assumed had fled, a thuggish rhoxodan whom she and Francis had a lot of bad blood with.
"You wouldn't believe how happy I was to see you here at this little shindig. I owe you mainlanders big."
Normally, if he had wanted a fight, Red would have gladly given him one, but this was not the time.
"You lunatic," she growled, "Zhent is -"
As large as he was, Horatio was incredibly fast, grabbing Red Feather by the neck with his left hand as she tried to get up.
"Yeah, yeah, not my problem," he answered. "The suits he works for ain't even paying me overtime here. But this is even better."
Red was about to reach for the knife on her belt - but then, saw another opportunity. "Behind you…" she grunted.
Horatio laughed. "Yeah, right, you're gonna have to try something more original, babe. Maybe you'd like to tell me my shoelace is untied, or my fly is down?"
"Hey, Tinkerbelle!"
"What y -" He turned his head. "WHAT…?"
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Maddie was caught in the breathdrinker's icy grasp, unable to move as it extended a tendril of its own substance toward her. She felt an icy chill as the fog caressed her lips and nostrils, probing inside…
Through the fog, she heard Annah shout, "Hungry? Eat this!"
Then Maddie was jerked roughly backward, pulled out of the thing's grasp by none other than Cora, the final member of the Stormblades. She saw Annah step into the place where she'd been standing, then fire a spray of roiling flames into the creature from her fingertips, a fan of burning hands that seared the edges of the mist but did little to stop it. The creature did not press its attack, however, instead turning back to face the critically injured Dorisan.
Dorisan, meanwhile, had used the few moments of respite to raise some magical defenses and then use a potion that healed some of the wounds he had taken. Realizing that trying to flee this creature was pointless, he turned to face it even as it surged once more to the attack. For a fleeting instant his defenses held; then a final cutting slash of cohesive fog tore through his shields and into his chest, a critical hit that cut to the ribs beneath his shirt and though his flesh. With a groan, the merchant staggered backward and slumped to the stones, blood oozing from the wound.
"LEAVE 'IM ALONE!" shouted Maddie. She was about to renew her assault on the creature, only for Cora to grapple and restrain her.
"Stay back, you idiot, you'd be better off trying to stab a cloud!"
The creature darted forward towards its mark, but before it could reach the Dorisan, a glob of acid - likely a Melf's acid arrow sizzled squarely into the middle of its form. The breathdrinker spun to face Annah, who was now holding a wand, a faint wisp of smoke lifting from its tip.
She looked the thing in the face, making a beckoning gesture. "Want a piece of this, windbag? Come on, show me what you've got."
Come it did, surging toward her in a deadly rush. Annah held her ground, her mage armor absorbing its first strike, her jaw tightening around a gasp of pain as its second cut deeply into her side.
"That's all? I've seen the drunks at tavern fart out wind that was tougher."
Whether it could understand the insult or not, it was angry now, and Annah was too focused on its hands to notice its feet and was caught completely off guard by the kick that slammed into her stomach, knocking her over and ruining the stronger spell she was about to cast.
Turning away from her, it formed another wind-scythe in preparation of another assault upon Dorisan.
"Let me go, Cora!" shouted Maddie.
"Let you go? So you can do what? That thing is like a ghost, Maddie, it -"
"Maddie?" Annah groaned a little, then hastily started to cast a very different incantation, causing odd, flaming runes to appear around her extended index finger. She finished the spell and pointed to Maddie this time - or rather, on her sword. The same runes – words in Ignan - started to form on the blade, glowing red hot. She slowly lifted it, and the blade started to burn with fire.
"Whoa…"
"Don't just look at it stupid!" Cora let her go, giving her a kick to the behind for good measure. "That spell only lasts two minutes!"
Maddie didn't exactly appreciate such prompting, but now was not the time for petty rivalries, as the creature had pinned Dorisan with one of its limbs and was about to deliver a final strike with its scythe. Before it could, Maddie charged, made a headlong charge at the monster, and made a swipe with the flaming blade, cleaving the elemental's bladed arm.
The breathdrinker shrieked, turning to Maddie with an expression of rage. "Come on, you big bag of wind, let's see how tough you are when it's mano-a-mano."
The elemental lifted both its arms, the foggy substance shifting and replacing the severed arm, with both its arms now spouting scythes. Still, Maddie felt more confident now. As it lunged with the two blades, she easily sidestepped and parried. This was just one more fight for her now, and it seemed the breathdrinker was not very good in an even fight.
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Horatio did not see what he expected to see when he turned his head. A huge dinosaur skeleton standing upright, with demonic glowing eyes, covered with blades on every joint, and claws the size of butcher knives was looming over him.
Of course, Red Feather recognized it as a Solid Vision Duel Monster, but Horatio was not privy to such information. Screaming, he dropped Red Feather, then fled in the other direction, barreling through some garbage cans, and then crashing through the wooden wall at the back of the alley with a loud crunch. His shirt - that of his uniform, likely the best piece of clothing he owned - got caught in a loose nail, but he quickly tore out of it, cursing as he did so, but continuing to run.
"Thanks for the save," said Red Feather. "Where's Nichole?"
From behind the Skelesaurus, Hank - as that's who it was - deactivated his Duel Disk, and the Duel Monster disappeared into motes of light.
"Actually," he said, "I think we need to take Zhent to her right now, and your 'friend' just cleared a way for us."
"Wait, where -"
"You'll see. I'll tell you on the way."
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"If you don't mind me asking, Annah… Why didn't you tell us you were a wizard?"
As Maddie continued to parry the breathdrinker's assaults, Cora made her way around them to Dorisan. Once she managed to drag him off the podium and to relative safety, Maddie was able to finish without distraction, and wanted answers.
"You didn't ask," replied Annah. "Duck."
Maddie dodged and tumbled aside, and Annah used her wand again, firing another acid arrow into the elemental's face, the fat droplets of searing green dissolving the wisps of cloud as the two interacted.
"Kind of strange how it happened, actually. I was bored one summer, my folks told me to find a hobby… Didn't do too well with pottery, gardening, or creative writing, so I decided on fire elementalism."
Finally, Maddie lifted the wand over her head, and made a hard slash downward, sundering the breathdrinker in twain. A low, droning howl echoed over the courtyard and the remains of the elemental dissipated, fading into nothingness.
Maddie looked at the sword and saw that the runes were already starting to fade. She couldn't help but be a little upset as she returned it to the sheath; kind of a shame the spell was only temporary.
She ran to where Dorisan was sitting up and rubbing his head; having nearly fully recovered due to the potent energies of his last healing potion and Cora's aid in drinking it. Both she and Maddie helped the injured businessman to his feet.
"Maddie!" shouted Francis' voice. He and Sonya made their way through the thankfully ebbing crowd.
"About time you got here."
"Thank you, my dear," Dorsian finally said. "Though I fear that this is only the opening salve by my foes."
"Foes? What foes?"
"Listen, Dorisan," started Sonya, "we want answers, you -"
Then, cries of pain came from the entrance to the Town Hall. The mob was definitely breaking up, with people fleeing out of the square along the three main avenues out from the intersection. Reinforcements had finally arrived, with the town guard restraining and arresting anyone stubborn enough not to run.
"Those bastards," said Maddie. She was about to head for that direction, but Dorisan stopped her, holding her shoulder. "We have to put a stop to this, Dorisan!"
"The riot is over, young one, the battle is lost. Help and comfort the injured… and take this."
He shoved something into Maddie's hand. It was a game card - specifically, Iron Blacksmith Kotetsu.
"What, you -"
"I am afraid I cannot linger to discuss the matter. But come to Redgorge, give that to my messenger. And please… Try to find Gregory."
"Wait…" But Dorisan had already taken up another potion vial, and before she could do anything to stop him, he quaffed it. Almost immediately his body began to dissolve into the shape of a cloud of mist eerily similar to the form of the breathdrinker. Then it rose quickly into the sky, where it vanished amidst the rooftops of the town.
"Wizards…" said Sonya with a sigh. "So, what now?"
As if to answer, Francis' duel Disk started ringing again. It was Nichole.
Meanwhile, the square emptied out, as the protestors fled the violence of the mercenaries of the Town Guard. Or at least most fled; a dozen bodies remained sprawled in bloody heaps on the broken cobbles, reminders of a bad day in Cauldron.
…which was slowly turning into night.
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"A cloud of anger and mistrust hangs over our city. There is something happening here, a shadow that deepens with each coming day..."
Nichole's message had led the Shadowchasers to an outdoor market a block away, to a warehouse that was used as rented space by the market's vendors. It had now become a medical relief station where Jenya, the acolytes, and several acolytes from the other three churches were doing their best to heal, comfort… and in many cases, console.
Zhent was unconscious, lying on a cot near the back wall of the station, where Jenya was carefully cleaning the nasty wound on the side of his head. Maddie and Francis were standing nearby, mostly to make sure none of the other patients assaulted him; several of them had already given him dirty looks as they were escorted in. Hank and Red Feather were on guard outside, while Nichole and Sonya were helping the acolytes with any needed assistance. Nichole had briefly stopped here to provide the same for Jenya, handing her a bottle of iodine and fresh bandages.
"I'm sorry, I have grown maudlin in my advancing years," she said, forcing a smile to Nichole. Of course, Jenya wasn't that old, likely only in her forties, but it was obvious that the stress was weighing heavily on the recently promoted High Priest of Cuthbert, who was struggling to deal with a new crisis so soon after the last one.
"How's he doing, Jenya?" asked Nichole.
"Several of his ribs were broken and his skull was fractured," Jenya replied, "but he'll live."
"When he wakes up, he has a lot of explaining to do." Maddie was rather upset at him herself. "That wasn't the brightest of moves."
"It may not all have been for naught," said Jenya. "I have heard word from the other churches, the Lord Governor may be considering repealing the tax hikes."
"Oh yes," said Francis, who was also irked at Zhent. "I'm so sure the families of the protesters who were killed will be happy to hear that."
Jenya nodded sadly. "I have already spoken to the heads of the other churches about starting a collection for those who lost loved ones." She shifted her gaze and a gentle smile to Maddie and Francis. "From what I have heard, the number of dead would have been higher, but for a group of brave mainlanders who remained in the square, protecting the wounded and defying the Guard."
Nichole changed the subject quickly. "What about Gregory?"
Jenya took a few seconds to answer. "I have known Gregory for a long time, even since before he was initiated into St. Cuthbert's House. He has often been rash and impulsive, but this sort of challenge seems so… unlike him."
"Is he really blood-related to the city's founders?"
Jenya nodded. "For several generations, the Tercival name was revered as belonging to one of the great clans of Cauldron's history. Unfortunately for Gregory, his childhood was during a time when his house was facing serious reversals, and his father ended up losing his ancestral estate in the settlement of various debts that the family had incurred. His motivation for joining Cuthbert's faithful, taking upon him the vows of poverty and charity, was to rebuild the pride and repute of his name.
"Believe me, my friends, Gregory has a rough exterior, but a good heart."
"And Dorisan?" asked Francis.
"He… Dorsian is…" Jenya was interrupted by an explosion outside, followed by screams and a roar of fury.
"Oh, crap," shouted Sonya, "what now?"
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What indeed.
The answers should come rather soon – like many chapters I have written before, this chapter was originally much longer, and I decided to cut it in half. Meaning that about half of the second half is already written.
Until then, read and if you can, leave a review, that helps a lot. See you all soon.