Action, Adventure, Excitement, Part 9: Theah / Swashbuckling
                               Chapter 1

Subject: AAE 9t: Interludes Among Enemies IV (swashbuckling)

On Sun, 23 Nov 2003 02:06:07 -0800
Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00011551

   Prince Vincenzo Caligari leaned back in his throne. "Well," he
said, his voice rattling despite his newfound vigor. "Well, well,
well."
   His great-nephew Alfredo was on his knees before him. This was
only, of course, because the boy was in chains -- he was still a
Caligari, after all, no matter what foolish choices the man had made
-- but it was good to have him to heel at last.
   "So. Here we are." Vincenzo leaned forward conspiratorially. "Do
you want to know why you are still alive, my dear Fredo?" The younger
Caligari said nothing.
   Vincenzo suddenly leapt from his throne. "Look around you, my boy.
LOOK AROUND YOU!" he cried triumphantly. The throne room was round,
the architecture built from gleaming silver-blue metal, with many
fantastical devices serving the Prince's most loyal allies. The finest
furnishings from around Theah adorned the room, from exquisitely
crafted couches from Montaigne to intricate Crescent rugs to the
paintings of medieval Vodacce masters. It was a peculiar (albeit
beautiful) mix of the familiar and the literally alien. "Where I was
broken, I am supreme! Where the name Caligari was defeated, it is now
TRIUMPHANT!" He cackled madly, laughing as he shook his fist defiantly
at the sky. "Even Villanova deals with me now!"
   "Until he can slide a knife into your back," Fredo said simply.
   "Ah! It speaks!" Vincenzo laughed, suddenly lucid again. He sat
back down and grinned cunningly. "My dear cousin Giovanni has
_already_ slipped three poisoned blades into my ancient form. I do
believe that he's learned the futility of further attempts." Fredo
scowled. "They have a saying here. 'The most subtle wizard is still
vulnerable to a knife between the shoulder blades.' Which only goes to
show what limited minds we are facing."
   "My Prince, if I may," Cardinal Mueso piped up. Caligari motioned
to him absently. "It seems that stories of a 'Cardinal's Guard' have
given me a Musketeer-like fighting force ready and willing to be
exploited even now. These Guards are, however, more...expedient.
Perhaps they include members with skills like unto those of our own
world's Inquisitors?"
   Fredo paled slightly, but remained still.
   "No, no," Caligari replied, "they will be of great use later, but
this boy is merely bait."
   "You mean for us?" a voice very much like Antonio Banderas' echoed,
as a servant's garb flew off a man to reveal a swashbuckler in black
and purple, wearing a white face mask with a black grin painted on it.
He tossed some pin or other aside with his garb, using the opportunity
to salute the Prince jauntily.
   "EL VAGO!" the Prince roared.
"He remembers us," a courtesan in a birdlike feathered half-mask said,
in a cultured voice that now sounded more like Emma Thompson than
Monica Bellucci, as she drew a well-concealed sabre from beneath her
skirt, which was short enough in the front to show off (and lend
freedom to) her legs.

   "KESTREL!" Caligari howled. "How--?!"
   "We came, as the Avalons would say, with the post," the masked
Castillian quipped. Fredo grinned.
   "Well," Alfredo said in a light tone, "I believe that I must be
going now." A moment later, the chains fell off his body, and he held
up the lockpick that El Vago had "casually" thrown away.
   The Prince screamed in fury. "Guards! GUARDS!"
   His throne room began to fill with Lord's Hands and black-clad
armsmen as they poured in from various doors and archways.

"They want to dance," Kestrel said to Vago, "How sweet. Shall we
oblige them, mi amor?"

   "Por supuesto*," Vago replied, equally at ease as he threw Fredo a
pair of rapiers that had been in a bundle of 'laundry' a few moments
ago.
   * <But of course -- translated from the Castillian>
   "Feh, they smell like old socks, I'll spend hours cleaning them,"
Fredo complained good-naturedly.
   "Would you rather smell like a dungeon?" Vago noted lightly.
   Fredo swung his blades with a flourish. "I suppose it doesn't
matter," he agreed with a grin of his own. "Nothing could smell worse
than Uncle Vincenzo's blood anyway."
   The Prince rose, his withered body moving with a young man's grace,
strength, and confidence. "You," he said in a low, dangerous voice,
"will not live long enough to learn, my treacherous nephew."
   "And who taught me treachery, il mio Principe?" Fredo replied, no
longer smiling.
   "Still, he has a point, Alfredo," Vago agreed. Then his gloved hand
lashed out, and a tiny ball of glass exploded into a huge cloud of
smoke. As guards gasped for breath and swung their blades through the
fumes.
   "STOP THEM!" Vincenzo roared, leaping down from his throne. No
heroes were there to face him, so with a snarl he slammed a fist into
a protrusion on one of his devices. A strong wind whipped up from the
swiftly-moving blades of the machine, pushing the smoke away.
   Vago was already out of the throne room with Fredo, a grapple gun
out and ready to fire. Kestrel was facing him, rapier outstretched,
pronged dagger at the ready, a dozen armsmen and two of his Hands
lying on the ground around her feet.

"You captured my sworn liege-man. No Vodacce Prince worth his salt
would think I'd stand for that, on _any_ version of Terra. I may doubt
your sanity, Your Highness, but not your intelligence." The Avalon
felt the telltale tingle of nearby sorcery in her left thumb, but the
"feel" of it was unlike any sorcery she'd ever encountered.

   Vincenzo's mad grin returned as he approached the legendary
privateer, rapier outstretched. "Of course I knew you wouldn't," he
said simply. "And genius is often mistaken for madness. BEHOLD!" With
that, he leapt at Kestrel, sword flickering with the speed of a flame,
the strength of a bear, and the skill of a master many times over.
"What 'madness' allows this shriveled frame to move as it did in my
prime, eh?"

"If I were a devout Vaticine, I might say it was _Legion,_" Kestrel
replied lightly, though Vincenzo was not boasting; it took all her
skill to keep him at bay. "Though perhaps he simply spat you back out
of the Abyss."

   "Bah," Caligari laughed, as his armsmen moved in to try and help.
Kestrel disabled two of them without ever taking her eyes off of the
Prince. "We are not superstitious fools, my dear Captain. Though we
may not know the principles, 'sorcery' operates by fundamental laws,
like all other things. Thus is my power made manifest!" He literally
_stepped_ into Kestrel's sword, trying to trap it in his own body.

Thinking this the perfect opportunity to rid them, and this foreign
world, of the mad Prince, Kestrel invoked the legend of Thomas to
nullify whatever sorcery was keeping High Lord alive.

   It failed. Thomas is powerful Glamour -- and Kestrel is powerful
and skilled in the magic-nullifying enchantment style -- but this
alien sorcery was simply too strong for her to neutralize. "A pity,"
he said with a shark's smile. "You are a beautiful woman." He raised
his sword to carve open her skull.

Kestrel only moved her head to one side. The blade buried itself just
inside her shoulder, driving down to her collarbone. Her wound healed
even as the Vodacce steel made it.

   The two stared at each other for a few seconds, each one's primary
blade stuck in the other's body, neither harmed by the other's blow.
Then Kestrel kicked his chest, throwing them apart. Both blades left
their targets' bodies, leaving no trace of their passing save a tiny
bloodstain and a small cut in the heroine's gown. Caligari frowned.

"You're not the only one with a Knack for survival," Kestrel quipped
lightly.

   "Your gift with the magic of Iron Meg is well known," the High Lord
snarled as his men circled her warily. The Cardinal, his courtesan,
and the other courtiers had long since fled. "I took it into account.
That should _not_ have healed." He seemed as offended as he was angry.

"Perhaps your supplier is not as trustworthy as you thought," she
laughed.

   Caligari's hands clenched the hilts of his blades until the
knuckles went white. "Villanova," he hissed.

"That would explain it, I'm not sure which of us he wants dead more."
She smiled.

   "Well, now we know, don't we?" Caligari hissed.

Kestrel thought about that for a moment. "I think I've been insulted,"
she mock-pouted.

   A second later, Vincenzo leapt back to the throne and threw a lever
on its side. Dozens of blades descended from the ceiling, whirling
wildly. Armsmen and Lord's Hand dove for cover, sprawling to the
ground. "My power makes me unstoppable! Yours has its limits! Absorb
_those,_ you faerie strega!"

"Not, I think, today, signore," the captain replied, parrying several
oncoming blades with her off-hand while pulling her grapple gun from
its holster on her thigh. "Until next time, Caligari," she said,
saluting him with her dagger as she fired the gun to swing from one of
the strange towers that now adorned the floating island.

   Prince Caligari, High Lord of Theah, gritted his teeth as he
watched her swing to freedom. "And there _will_ be a next time," he
promised.
   He had conquered an entire other world, overrun half of this cosm's
Theah (the so-called "Europe"), and brought entire nations to heel,
and yet an accursed handful of swashbucklers continued to thwart him!
   The High Lord flung himself back into his throne, pulling the lever
back to retract the blades. Save for the one armsman that had been too
slow, his soldiers rose. "Clean up that mess and bring me the rest of
the day's reports," he snapped, and his servants went back to work.
   [So _this_ is why my fellows hate these so-called 'stormers' so.
And I thought they were annoying back _home._]
--
Evil GM-San
"Since love and fear can hardly exist together, if we must choose
between them, it is far safer to be feared than loved." --Scarovese
(whose cognate on Earth was Machiavelli)
=================================

Subject: AAE9t: Good and Evil (1 of 2)

On Sat, 12 Feb 2005 19:10:18 -0800
Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012378

   "What were you _thinking,_ you madman?!" the (apparent) Spaniard
roared as two men ran, the speaker half-carrying a barely-conscious
woman.
   "I was thinking that Malaca deserved some humiliation, Domingo,"
the (apparent) Frenchman replied with mild amusement, loping easily to
keep up with his burdened companion, even with rapier and main gauche
in his hands. "On principle in general, but most specifically for his
treatment of the fair maiden in your arm."
   "I haven't...been a maiden...since forever," the woman breathed,
still trying to gain her bearings. She was dressed in a T-shirt and
stretch pants, a small purse on one shoulder. Her outfit was the
incongruous one, as everyone else seemed to have escaped central
casting for a pirate film or a Musketeer series.
   Domingo coughed. "Yes, well, regardless, under other circumstances
I would approve, Ambrose, but we were _trying_to_be_discreet!_ Calling
the Grand Knight Inquisitor the 'bastard son of a swine and a siren'
is NOT DISCREET! We could have been killed! _She_ could have been
killed!"
   "But she is _not_ dead, and I will always cherish the look on
Malaca's face," Ambrose laughed.
   "Theus me ahorra de Montaignos locos!" (Lens translation: @God save
me from crazy Montaignes!@) Domingo half-sighed, half shouted,
grabbing a torch as they passed. The crimson-clad churchmen slowed,
becoming more wary. Their concern was validated when the sailor
pointed it behind him and a vaguely sword-shaped gout of flame shot
out from it at them.
   "I certainly don't mind the help, mon ami, but you seem to have
things well in hand." Ambrose looked behind them. "Perhaps I should
stop and delay them while you take the lady onward."
   "And let you out of my sight? Kestrel would use my skin for
sailcloth if I left you alone in Castillo."
   "Spain," Ambrose reminded him.
   "_Whatever,_" Domingo snarled, spying a wet towel hanging on a
clothesline overhead as they passed. With a glance, he sent a burst of
fire up to it. As it smouldered, he threw the torch down an alley,
dousing it with a gesture before it landed, then grabbed Ambrose by
the shoulder and pulled him into a small doorway. He clamped his free
hand on the swordsman's mouth and closed the door with his foot as
gently as he could manage.
   The coughing, spluttering figures stumbled out of the curtain of
smoke. After a moment of regaining their bearings, their commander
barked orders in Castillian through choked gasps. The group broke up
into pairs, going down each direction of the crossroads Domingo had
filled. The two sailors looked at one another and grinned. "Ah,
Inquisitors," they said in unison.
   "Ahem," the lady coughed. Instantly, she had both men's attention.
"Look, I appreciate a good rescue as much as any agent in over her
head."
   "A pity it was not a _good_ rescue," Domingo muttered, glancing at
his companion. Ambrose suddenly found the ceiling fascinating.
   "BUT," she put in quickly, "I fail to see how we're going to get
out of the city. Those goons may be dim bulbs -- fools -- but that
Malaca character looked somewhat smarter. He'll have Barcelona locked
down tighter than that outfit Frenchie's wearing."
   Ambrose blinked and looked at Domingo. "Does she mean me?"
   Domingo shook his head, barely suppressing the desire to slap his
companion on the back of the head. "We have a way out Malaca can't
block. How do you feel?"
   The agent slowly rotated her head. "Better, I think. I thought I
had a concussion for a minute there, but I'm beginning to think it was
just a 'flesh wound.'" [With apologies to Monty Python,] she thought
with a mental grin.
   Ambrose nodded. "That happens to us quite a bit."
   The Castillian peered out a small window, them motioned the others
to follow him. "Come. The Inquisitors have all left, but they will
double back before long."
   "This seems more my bailiwick, Domingo," Ambrose pointed out
lightly.
   Domingo glared briefly, then straightened and grinned back. "And
_which_ of us is the navigator, senor?"
   "After you, sir," Ambrose agreed enthusiastically.
   It didn't take them long, following the Castillian's unerring sense
of direction, to reach a small hut behind a boisterous inn.
   "Thank Theus," an exquisite, well-dressed woman wearing gloves that
went halfway past her elbows breathed as she let them in. She looked
them over, her relief fading into concern. "What happened?"
   Domingo gestured with a sideways nod at Ambrose. "Your countryman's
mouth."
   "L'idiot," The Montaigne lady blurted in exasperation, but she
couldn't quite keep the fondness out of her voice. Then she looked the
agent over again. "Why is she dressed in her underclothes?" The
noblewoman gasped. "Malaca. He didn't--"
   "No, no," Domingo assured her, to her relief.
   "Told you," Ambrose whispered to the agent.
   "I believe," the Earth-9 native cut in, "that introductions are in
order. I'm Agent Marie Faure of UNTIL. My cousin is your captain's
contact in Marseilles."
   "Ah. I am Nicole du...Paix," the lady replied, "the Ladyhawk's
Porte mistress."
   "It is something of a running joke," Domingo put in, "that the
Captain is attempting to collect one of every type of sorcerer on
Theah."
   "Gotta catch 'em all, eh?" Marie quipped. At the blank looks she
received, she added, "Home world joke. You had to be there. Anyway,
these aren't underthings, it's normal day-wear. Well, normal casual
day-wear, anyway." She looked at the others, clad in garb that ranged
from the era of Three Musketeer films to something from the French
Revolution. "There isn't a problem with women in pants, is there?"
   "No no, le capitaine wears trousers often, but...perhaps you should
change into something less...obvious...when we get to the ship?"
Nicole was the soul of politeness, but did seem a bit embarrassed on
behalf of their guest.
   "That's fine, I was dressed like this to make myself easier to
find."
   "It worked," Ambrose quipped.
   "But perhaps," Marie continued, ignoring the Montaigne, "we should
go now?" She gestured towards the door.
   The three Theans looked at each other, and Nicole looked Marie over
thoughtfully. "Have you ever travelled by Porte?"
   "No, but I've travelled with teleporters. I imagine it's more or
less the same thing."
   "Do your 'teleporters' tell you to keep your eyes closed while you
are 'between'?" Domingo asked dubiously.
   Marie looked puzzled. "No, it doesn't last long enough to make a
difference."
   "Then I do not think it is the same thing as Porte," Nicole said.
"For Porte, the sorcerer...grasps...the fabric of 'between' space, and
pulls it open. The side effects are...dramatic." From the looks on the
faces of the men, Nicole's comments were understatements. "You then
walk through this space to your destination, which can take up to a
minute or so. While you are between, you must keep ahold of your
companions, and you can _not_ open your eyes."
   "What happens if you open your eyes?" the agent asked.
   "No one knows for sure," Ambrose replied soberly. "No one who has
opened their eyes has ever come out."
   "Ever?"
   "Not that anyone knows of, in sixteen centuries."
   The agent pondered this. "Does anyone have a blindfold? Better
safe, and all that."
   Ambrose pulled out a handkerchief from his sleeve with a flourish.
"Pay no attention to the voices you hear," he warned Marie as he
stepped behind her.
   "Voices?" Marie asked, her voice cracking slightly. The UNTIL agent
had faced terrible horrors in her career -- she had been there when
the Proprietor fell, and even been part of a team that had faced
Eurostar without meta-backup until the Champions arrived -- but this
'Porte' was sounding less attractive with each passing second.
   "They cannot harm you," Ambrose emphasized, "so long as you do not
open your eyes. They will promise you anything and everything,
however, to convince you to do just that." He started to bring the
handkerchief down over her head.
   "Wait," she said, stopping his hands gently. "Is the hole itself
dangerous?"
   "No," Domingo replied reluctantly, "but it is disturbing enough by
itself."
   Marie nodded. "Fair enough. I want to see what I'm getting in to,
literally."
   Nicole shrugged Gallically, and slowly rolled off her gloves. The
noblewoman's hands appeared to be literally stained with blood --
albeit faintly -- almost up to the elbow. Marie swallowed. Then, a
look of supreme concentration on her face, Nicole reached out -- and
the world _screamed._
   The agent gasped and stepped back, reaching into her purse. She
shuddered and frowned when she discovered that her UNTIL-issue
mini-blaster had transformed into a flintlock. Her unease deepened as
Nicole's hands began to come back into sight from in front of her, and
the edges of a circle appeared. The circle was made of light, but it
bled, literally dripping _blood_ as it expanded, and the scream
ululated louder and more softly and back as Nicole grunted with
effort. The hole expanded.
   "Not...usually...this...hard," Nicole gasped, forcing the hole
wide. The inside of the circle only showed the far wall of the room
they were in; all the spacial gateways Marie had seen before had shown
the destination. The bleeding increased slowly. In a few moments, the
portal was easily wide enough to walk through safely, if 'safely' was
the right word.
   "I'll take that blindfold now," Marie said breathlessly. Ambrose
nodded and tied it tightly across her eyes holding them firmly closed.
Incongruously, she noticed a faint smell of cologne even as the scream
rang in her ears. Then the alien Frenchman took one of her hands, the
demi-Spaniard took the other, and they gently led her forward.
   The screaming stopped after a few moments, and for the first few
steps afterward, there was blessed silence. It seemed perfectly normal
at first.
   "Stop! There's a chasm right in front of you!" a bizarre voice
shouted. Marie froze.
   "Merde," Nicole cursed in a definitely unlady-like fashion. "Keep
walking!" she warned. "That's one of their oldest tricks!"
   "It's all right, my lady," Ambrose added comfortingly. "Everyone
hesitates the first time that happens."
   Marie nodded, too shaken to respond otherwise. After a few steps
forward, she cursed herself. [No one can see you with their _eyes_
closed, stupid!] She kept walking, however.
   "Shouldn't be far..." Nicole muttered. "Can't remember the last
time they were this thick..."
   "We like your friend, Nicole," the voice of the most seductive
devil Marie had ever heard whispered around them. "She's...different.
Leave her with us?"
   "Are you mad or just stupid?" the sorceress spat back, much to
Marie's relief.
   "You don't know what we can offer," the devil's voice replied,
while a woman's hungry moan echoed right in Marie's ear. She gripped
the men's hands more tightly. "You don't even have to open your eyes,
Nicole, just leave the hole open and we can gift you with such
_things_ as you'd never imagine...your people have given us so many
delightful toys opening their eyes here..."
   "NOW!" Nicole cried, and Marie was suddenly yanked forward.

TBC... (yes, we're evil, we thought you knew that by now *g*)
=================================

Subject: AAE9t: Good and Evil (2 of 2)

On Sat, 12 Feb 2005 19:10:51 -0800
Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012379

   "NOW!" Nicole cried, and Marie was suddenly yanked forward.
   The swaying beneath her feet was an immense relief, as was the cool
salt air. The scream returned for a moment, then vanished behind them,
leaving only the sound of water splashing against a hull and the buzz
of distant conversations. As her companions let go, she collapsed to
the deck, sitting heavily. Somewhere, a raptor cried.
   "So, our remaining prodigals return," a beautiful, cultured voice
of a British woman said somewhere above the UNTIL agent.
   "Can I take this off now?" Marie asked as steadily as she could
manage, touching her blindfold now that her companions had released
her hands.
   The British voice chuckled like light bells ringing. "Of course,
mademoiselle."
   "I'm American, my cousin's the native," Marie replied with a touch
more bite than she intended. "Sorry," she added after a brief moment
as she removed the cloth from her eyes, gingerly holding her stomach.
"That trip rattled me a bit."
   "A bit?" Antonio Banderas quipped. Or at least, he sounded a _lot_
like Antonio Banderas. She looked up, and a man in a black and purple
swashbuckler's outfit complete with cape smiled back down at her,
leaning forward to offer her a hand. He didn't look _exactly_ like
Banderas, but was quite handsome enough for the role. "For one not of
Theah to handle Porte so well speaks well for your fortitude."
   "Thanks," she replied, again a touch breathless, as she accepted
the hand and help up. She briefly considered castigating herself for
such a poor showing in front of this Adonis, but one glance between
him and the captain -- a masked woman as beautiful as he was handsome
-- told her all she needed to know. He was taken. _Very_ taken.
"Captain Kestrel, I presume?" she asked the woman in the raptor's
mask.
   Kestrel nodded with a smile. "Welcome aboard the Ladyhawk, Agent
Faure." She looked up. "Mister Fitzpatrick! How's our wind?"
   "Good, Cap'n!" an Irish voice called back. "We're makin' good time
to this Marseilles!"
   "Of _course_ we are!" another Irish voice -- this one, a woman's --
called from behind them. A small redheaded woman grinned and waved to
them, taking one hand from the wheel for a moment, and the captain
saluted back jauntily.
   "You don't have to brag, Moira," Kestrel replied fondly. "We all
know how good -- ah, _skilled_ you are."
   "O' _course_ I have to brag. I'm Inish," Moira laughed.
   "Huh," Marie grunted. [Castillian, Montaigne, Inish, Vodacce...]
she looked at the captain. "Let me guess. You're from Albion."
   "Avalon," Kestrel replied, one eyebrow clearly raised even through
the mask. "She is most like your England, to hear tell of it."
   Marie nodded, smiling. "My next guess. Our worlds seem
like...cousins, rather like Jeanne and I. Our styles are very
different, but there's a definite family resemblance."
   "Your world being the 'older' cousin?" a pretty, tiny woman in red
and black asked, a book cradled in one arm. "Yes, yes, that would fit
my studies." She seemed to be almost bouncing on the balls of her
feet.
   Kestrel rolled her eyes, smiling almost lovingly. "Ah, where are my
manners. Introductions are in order, I believe. Since my scholar looks
ready to explode, I will begin with her -- this is Valeria de
Gallegos, and she has several thousand questions about your world, I'm
sure." Valeria 'eeped' and curtsied a touch clumsily. Marie grinned
and bowed. "I, as you have already surmised, am Kestrel, Captain of
this fine vessel and Knight of Elaine, Queen of Avalon. This is
Rodrigo de la Vega, a dear friend, Champion of Castillo and co-founder
of Los Vagos."
   "Los what?" Marie asked, swaying for reasons not entirely related
to the ship.
   Rodrigo bowed with a flourish. "Vagabundos, on your world, the
vagabond-protectors of my people. I understand," he added with a
chuckle, "that the tradition is upheld on your world by the name of
the Fox."
   "Zorro," Marie nodded.
   "Domingo, Ambrose and Nicole you have already met. My Ship's
Master, Bosun and Porte' mistress," Kestrel continued. "The bald giant
over there is my First Mate, Carlo," she added, gesturing at a titan
of a man with scars of every size and length on every visible area of
skin, "and the woman with him is his wife, and our Sorte Adept,
Angelina." The two Vodacce bowed and curtsied, respectively.
   Marie nodded greetings to each. "Sorte...another of the sorceries,
yes?"
   "Si," Angelina replied. At Marie's unfamiliarity with the concept,
she continued. "Some of the women of my country are able to see the
Threads of Fate, and with practice learn to pull them. We are able to
affect chance, and to read connections between people, and sometimes
things. The greatest of us can destroy Threads, and some few can
create them, but I have not yet gained that ability."
   Marie nodded understanding as Kestrel continued. "That's Moire at
the wheel, the finest pilot on the seven seas..." The Inishwoman
grinned. "And Michael Fitzpatrick, my Master of the Tops..."
Fitzpatrick waved, hanging in the rigging by one knee. "That dangerous
if fatigued gentleman over there is Alfredo Caligari, bosun's mate and
my sworn liege-man."
   "Caligari?" Marie asked, glancing out the corner of her eye at the
man cleaning two wicked looking swords.
   "The Prince," Alfredo made the word drip with contempt, "is my
great-uncle. We are not on the best of terms." Marie suddenly felt
sorry for the High Lord.
   "In fact, we just retrieved Fredo from Caligari's island, and have
some new information for your cousin," Rodrigo commented.
   "And this," Kestrel smiled, and Marie noticed a young woman -- a
girl, really -- who'd been hovering nearby, "is my protege and yeoman,
Lady Merlin."
   Merlin dropped a curtsey, and Marie nodded. The girl was also
masked, a birdlike mask much like Kestrel's and a rapier and dagger at
her waist, but Marie guessed her to be about 12 years old, give or
take.
   "The rest of the crew you can meet as we go. I imagine you have
almost as many questions for us as Valeria has for you," Kestrel
gestured towards the door in the aftcastle, no doubt indicating they
should retire to her cabin.
   "To put it mildly," Marie agreed. "We should go over what we've
learned about Caligari's island first, though Jeanne has more intel
than I do. Which reminds me...what are these 'Syrneth' I've heard
mentioned--"
   "CAP'N! RED SAILS OFF THE STARBOARD BOW!" Fitzpatrick roared.
   Suddenly the entire crew was in motion. Men ran below decks, while
others armed with guns and blades came up to the deck. Those in the
rigging began to scurry like spiders in a disturbed web. The bald
Italian giant began shouting orders, Captain Kestrel excused herself
and began to stride to the starboard rail calmly, and Merlin stepped
to Marie's side.
   "Red sails?" Marie asked quietly.
   "The Crimson Rogers. The most infamous pirate of our world is
Captain Reis," Merlin explained. "His sails were said to run red with
blood, which was more true than most believed. He died, but even death
could not keep him in the Abyss."
   "'Captained by a man so evil that Hell itself spat him back out,'"
Marie muttered.
   "'Hell?'" Merlin asked.
   "Probably much the same as your Abyss," the agent replied simply.
Merlin nodded. "So how's death agreed with him?" Marie continued, her
voice far calmer than she felt.
   "All too well," Merlin replied darkly, her voice quavering only
once. "His ship...merged...with the foulest, most terrible ghost ship
in our world's history, the Black Freighter. Now, his men are more
dangerous than ever, because the dead cannot die. The ship can be
sunk, and mercifully they do not float, but killing them permanently
is difficult indeed. The captain must be slain, and even legend is
unsure of the method." Merlin swallowed, frowning slightly as Kestrel
looked through a spyglass at their nemesis. "Supposedly, each captain
has a unique weakness. In the meantime, fire is our best weapon
against them." In unison, the two women looked at Domingo, who was
standing in front of Valeria, hands held out. She was grimly wrapping
them in cloth partially soaked in oil.
   "He _is_ immune to flame, right?" Marie asked. Merlin smiled and
nodded, then looked out at the bloody sails.
   "They seem not to have changed course." She looked up at the sails,
then the crow's nest. "Wind would make tacking to come about and face
us difficult, I think."
   "You've developed a sailor's finger for the wind, young Merlin,"
Carlo said, and both ladies had to work not to jump.
   [How can a man so huge move so _quietly?_] Marie wondered.
   "Her braggadocio aside, Moira is genuinely without equal as a
pilot. Given our position, they would have to sail directly into the
teeth of our cannon, and we could fire half their ship before they
could ever get within boarding range," the First Mate continued. "Reis
is evil, not stupid. Far from it, more's the pity."
   "Maybe you should go after _him_ now, then," Marie suggested.
   Carlo shook his head. "It would only annoy them. We could sink them
with few losses, true, but we don't know how to send them back to the
Abyss once and for all."
   Marie scowled. "Of course. My apologies."
   "Agent Faure, do you wish to have a closer look at what we face?"
Kestrel called out, holding the spyglass toward the native.
   "Not really," the UNTIL agent replied wryly, "but I'd be derelict
not to take the opportunity." She took up the glass and looked out.
   A man in a long red coat stared back at her through his own scope.
Incongruously, a white ruff hung from his neck, while a large, ornate
black hat rested on equally black, long curly hair. He had a villain's
thin mustache and pointed beard, a cruel sneer that was too heartfelt
to be humorous, and rested a long stick on one shoulder with his free
hand. A deadly-looking crescent blade glinted in the light on the far
end as he toyed carefully with the handle. Marie had the sudden
terrible feeling that his movements were deliberate. He _wanted_ her
to notice the scythe-like blade. She made out shark's tooth serrations
in the center of the curve, and was distantly impressed by the power
of the small telescope. Worst of all, however, was his skin -- dull
gray, with small patches missing, revealing bits of working muscle
below.
   A huge blond man, almost as tall as Carlo and every bit as broad,
stepped up to Reis' side. Her lip-reading skills served her well in
that moment, though she was beginning to wish they wouldn't.
   "They're speaking," Marie said. "I read lips -- I'll relay."
   "The Ladyhawk is moving to stern, captain," the blond said. "If we
turn now, we might be able to send her to St. Rose's Locker."
   "Hmf," Reis replied. Marie was glad she couldn't actually make out
his voice. "Kestrel is disgustingly heroic, Keitelsson, not stupid.
Between her Glamour sails and that sow of a pilot, she'd make kindling
of our hull before we ever had our cannons on her." He lowered the
spyglass. "Besides, we have more important business ahead of us.
Gaucher's revenge can wait." Reis smiled, and Marie shuddered
unwillingly. "We will find her in our own time. For now, we have an
appointment to keep."
   "He's turned away," Marie said as the Rogers tacked away from the
Ladyhawk. "I can't see any more. I'm sorry."
   "That's all right," Kestrel replied. "I read lips too, but not with
your skill, and we hardly expect miracles." She watched the evil ship
fade through narrowing eyes. "Still, I almost feel he _wanted_ us to
know what he was saying."
   "So...who's Gaucher?" Marie asked, wanting to change the subject.
   "Another captain killed Reis, a heroic woman named Bonnie McGee,"
Kestrel explained, her voice growing soft. "For a time, the name, coat
and weapon were taken up by the ship's bosun. I killed him, and we
sent the Rogers to the bottom. That's when it merged with the
Freighter, the true Reis in command once more." She rubbed her lower
right arm with her other hand.
   "Yech. Glad I asked," Marie said dryly. Glancing at Kestrel, she
saw her rubbing push the sleeve up...displaying a scar that circled
her arm perfectly. For a moment, given what she'd heard about the
scythe, Marie figured the captain had to have the hand surgically
restored...then remembered that Theah's medicine wasn't nearly
advanced enough for such surgery. Besides, the scar was too...neat.
   Kestrel noticed the agent looking, and grinned sheepishly. "Oh.
I...ah...we found the Cutlass of Command," she explained, thumping the
sword on her right hip. A strangely designed dagger was sheathed above
it, a beautiful rapier hilt visible on her left. "It is
indestructible, so I could parry the scythe with it. So Gaucher
attacked my arm instead."
   "So she kicked up her arm as a lesser sailor would a blade and
_put_ it back on!" Ambrose explained with a laugh, catching a belaying
pin underfoot and demonstrating with a flip of his boot.
   By this point, several of the crew were chuckling, and most in
earshot were grinning. Marie looked at her with curiosity. "But...how
did you...?"
   "Glamour," Kestrel explained. "The legend of the Green Man. Once
prepared, it can heal any one wound."
   "'Your arm's off!' 'No it's not!'" Fitzpatrick shouted down, and
everyone except Rodrigo and Merlin burst into laughter.
   "Oh, oh God, Monty Python is _so_ going to sue you," Marie laughed,
earning a handful of odd looks. "Long story, long story," she added
between laughs, tears forming in her eyes. At the increasingly puzzled
looks, she added, "It's from a movie...like a play, only recorded with
a device."
   "So it can be seen repeatedly from a single performance!" Valeria
blurted.
   "Exactly," Marie agreed.
   "And so we come back around to the questions," Kestrel said, happy
to change the subject.
   "We'll trade off," Marie suggested.
   "Fair enough," Kestrel replied, as they went below and the ship
sailed on toward Marseilles...
--
The Ladyhawk
"For your honor and your Queen,
Captain Kestrel, take your chance!"
(from a ballad by a certain "actress," more of which will be heard
later *G*)
=================================

Subject: AAE9t: ...and Gateway

On Fri, 11 Mar 2005 00:17:24 -0800
Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012414

   Two minutes ago.

   Eric looked at the teleport arch dubiously. "Any reason we can't
just 'pop' across?"
   "The reality doesn't like it," Quantum replies archly. "Now, _you_
want your molecules scattered across the galaxy, that's your
business."
   "Why do I feel like this whole mess is a huge cosmic joke at my
expense?" he added, eyes flickering to Kanto.
   "You have excellent instincts," Kanto replied with a satisfied
grin. "It is probably true."
   [I am going to _eviscerate_ him,] the Hunter thought darkly,
watching the Apokoliptian assassin wink at his sister. [...later.] "We
_do_ have a secure location, correct?"
   "As of three minues ago, yes," Quantum explained with a sigh.
"Agent Faure doesn't want to push her luck with the comm unit.
Disconnecting now would be dangerous for her."
   Eric forced himself to nod professionally and take a position in
front of the gateway.

   Now.

   Eric whirls his chain overhead protectively, Agent Jeanne Faure
crouched defensively beneath. Rio hums softly to herself beside her,
and luck turns against the Vodacce. They almost seem to expect this,
one of them muttering "strega" as they circle warily.
   Kanto laughs, dueling three black-clad opponents at once, holding
them off with ease. A fourth approaches from behind, only to fall over
in shock, his mouth a small 'O' of surprise as the New God's dagger
slides back out of his chest. The Vodacce killer falls almost
silently. At least two dozen more crude fighters (aka Brute Squads,
aka crunchies) who had circled the 'landing pad' are falling back in
the face of heavy Heroic opposition.
   "Welcome to Marseilles," the Hunter mutters as Jeanne's flintlock
spits crude death behind him. "Are you hurt, Agent Faure?"
   "Only my pride," she replies, her French accent thick as she tosses
the spent gun aside and draws another one from her long skirt. "We are
surrounded." Indeed, the crossroads they had appeared on had Vodacce
thugs on both streets in both directions, the buildings around them
silent and dark.
   "Not for long," Kanto laughs, his rapier flickering like lightning.
Another black-clad fencer gasps and collapses.
   "You cannot do this," one of the two men fighting Kanto snarls.
"We're the Lord's Hands of Caligari himself!"
   "Then I suppose those are not your companions bleeding on the
ground," Kanto replies with a grin, "and that I am not making fools of
you two as we speak."
   "Kanto!" Eric roars. "Wrap it up! We're getting out of here!"
   "You have no sense of fun," Kanto laughs.
   "Yes I do, this just isn't it," Eric replies darkly. "Now MOVE!"
   Kanto's response is a laugh and a thrust, leaving one of his
remaining attackers favoring one arm, the other dangling and limp.
--
Eric, Rio and Kanto
Starring in "The Road to Vodacce" ;^)
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: ...and Gateway

On Sat, 12 Mar 2005 09:24:54 -0800
Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012416

>On Fri, 11 Mar 2005 00:17:24 -0800
>Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012414
>
>   "Kanto!" Eric roars. "Wrap it up! We're getting out of here!"
>   "You have no sense of fun," Kanto laughs.
>   "Yes I do, this just isn't it," Eric replies darkly. "Now MOVE!"
>   Kanto's response is a laugh and a thrust, leaving one of his
>remaining attackers favoring one arm, the other dangling and limp.

Marivale grumps. "You might have left more than one for me, you know."
  He deftly intercepts the unwounded Vodacce's next thrust at Kanto,
turning the blade in his hand, but not quite disarming him. Marivale's
eyebrows go up seemingly of their own accord. "Impressive," he says,
as his parrying dagger whips up to catch the killer's blade and snap
it six inches from the hilt, "I don't usually have to resort to that
trick." As the Vodacce scrambles for his dirk, Marivale's rapier
flicks out and opens his throat in a gory welter of blood.

Erin and Veren look at each other. Erin's eyebrows raise. "Move, he
says. Noath?" Veren shrugs agreement and a withering hail of arrow
fire pours out to the north side of the square. Within moments, the
street is clear. Erindrea speaks up again. "OK, we have a path. We can
backtrack latah if we need to."
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: ...and Gateway

On Sun, 13 Mar 2005 20:29:39 -0000
Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012419

   Not quite one hour ago.
   Karma paced her quarters, wringing her hands together. She hadn't
been able to sit still long enough to meditate. A knock at the door
drew her attention.
   "May I come in?" Flarn asked.
   Karma nodded, "It's alright, I'm too nervous to focus, anyway."
   "Well, my husband asked me to replicate a few items he thought
might be of use for you. Do you mind?" Flarn asked, gesturing to the
replicator.
   "Not at all."
   Flarn nodded, and pulled up the Theah directory. A brown leather
bag formed first, which she removed and opened. Next was a brass
spyglass, then a sextant, a brass-encased compass, and a mechanical,
brass pocket watch.
   Karma resumed pacing.
   "May I ask a question?" Flarn asked, after observing this a moment.
Karma nodded, so she continued, "Do you always pace so?"
   Karma smiled weakly, shaking her head, "I only took it up recently.
About the time I started deliberately arming myself to kill people."
   "Ah. So, you would prefer to be a noncombatant."
   Karma shook her head, "No. Well, yes, but that's not it. When the
fight just barges in, I'm fine. I use whatever weapon's at hand, and
don't feel bad about the results. But when I have time to deliberate
like this, I feel like I'm trying to act like some tough guy. It's
driving me bats. I'm choosing weapons because they're good, solid and
sensible for the job. But I hate using them, to the point that I'm
afraid of hesitating and getting myself killed because I don't want to
kill people."
   "Hmm," Flarn mused, "The sword and pistol are not your style of
fighting, then."
   "Nor guns that don't have a 'stun' setting. I like 'stun.' People
can walk away from 'stun.'"
   Flarn nodded, smiling, "I think I can be of some help to you, then.
If I may ask, how do you feel about your current attire?"
   Karma blinked, looking in the mirror. She frowned.
   "{Jeffries,}" Flarn said into a comm panel, "{If you have a moment,
we could use your valuable assistance.}"
   {Of course, madam,} came the reply.

   Roughly fifteen minutes ago.
   "I believe," Jeffries said conspiratorially as he returned from
another errand, "We are actually done."
   Flarn nodded, "I know, but don't let on, she still has another
fifteen minutes to second-guess herself."
   "Jeffries, what do you think?" Karma asked.
   "Lovely, miss, although, if I may, there's just a small adjustment
for authenticity's sake we should make."
   "I think," Flarn said, "We should also avail ourselves of a Danger
Room while we have the opportunity."

   Five minutes ago.
   "'Know your enemy and know yourself and you will always be
victorious,'" Karma quoted. "I guess my problem was not knowing
myself."
   "A reasonable conclusion," Flarn agreed.
   "Madam, Miss, it is time to depart," Jeffries said.
   "I think I'm ready," Karma said, mildly amazed. "Thank you. Thank
you both."
   "You're quite welcome," Flarn and Jeffries said together, Jeffries
adding, "Miss."

>On Fri, 11 Mar 2005 00:17:24 -0800
>Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012414
>
>   Two minutes ago.
<snip>
>   [I am going to _eviscerate_ him,] the Hunter thought darkly,
>watching the Apokoliptian assassin wink at his sister. [...later.]
>"We _do_ have a secure location, correct?"
>   "As of three minues ago, yes," Quantum explained with a sigh.
>"Agent Faure doesn't want to push her luck with the comm unit.
>Disconnecting now would be dangerous for her."
>   Eric forced himself to nod professionally and take a position in
>front of the gateway.

   Karma gave Flarn's hand a nervous squeeze before stepping away and
joining the Theah-bound group.
   Mike watched Karma as he stood behind Flarn.
   "I thought the point was to make her less nervous?" he asked
quietly.
   Flarn elbowed him in the ribs, "This is just mild stagefright, not
deep, ethical conflict."
   "White blouse, olive coat, brown pants with the knee-high white
socks. Shoes with the little buckle. Nicely period, but no weapons?"
   "The olive wood, wooden flute and a matching dagger."
   "Oh dear."
   "Michael, trust me."

>   Now.
>
>   Eric whirls his chain overhead protectively, Agent Jeanne Faure
>crouched defensively beneath. Rio hums softly to herself beside her,
>and luck turns against the Vodacce. They almost seem to expect this,
>one of them muttering "strega" as they circle warily.
>   Kanto laughs, dueling three black-clad opponents at once, holding
>them off with ease. A fourth approaches from behind, only to fall
>over in shock, his mouth a small 'O' of surprise as the New God's
>dagger slides back out of his chest. The Vodacce killer falls almost
>silently. At least two dozen more crude fighters (aka Brute Squads,
>aka crunchies) who had circled the 'landing pad' are falling back in
>the face of heavy Heroic opposition.

>On Sat, 12 Mar 2005 09:24:54 -0800
>Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012416
>
>Marivale grumps. "You might have left more than one for me, you
>know."

   With equal parts aggrivation and preoccupation, Karma snaps,
"Marivale, look around you, there's more than plenty to spare."
   She parries a rapier with her dagger, lunging in and thrusting her
flute like a sword to strike the Voddace's solar plexus. Stepping in,
she delivers a punch to the thug's jaw that drops him. As she turns, a
second thug with a dagger lunges at her, only to be laid low by a blow
from the flute, which makes a slightly shrill note as it whips through
the air.

>Erin and Veren look at each other. Erin's eyebrows raise. "Move, he
>says. Noath?" Veren shrugs agreement and a withering hail of arrow
>fire pours out to the north side of the square. Within moments, the
>street is clear. Erindrea speaks up again. "OK, we have a path. We
>can backtrack latah if we need to."

   Two more thugs are taken down, one by a brown leather shoe to the
face, the other by a palm strike. As Karma straightens, a thug is
shoved at her, sword drawn. Her parry with the dagger actually forces
the sword from the thug's hand. Trembling, he reachs for his knife,
but the flute lashs out and knocks his hand away, as she drops the
dagger and grabs the thug's hood to rip it off.
   For a moment, Karma pauses, clearly shocked at the mere boy before
her. Then she gets angry, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him
over her raised knee.
   "This, is what, you get, for playing, with Vodacce, thugs!" she
shouts as she spanks him. She lets him go and shoves him away with a
foot to the seat of his pants. "Now, go home to your mother!" she
adds, then suddenly elbows the Vodacce creeping up behind her,
twisting and delivering four more blows to the body before he has time
to fall over.
   Grabbing her flute and dagger, she falls back toward the archers,
"Yeah. Let's get out of here before I get even angrier."

-- Karma (with help from Flarn and company)
(I just had to do the Kill Bill reference when I saw it.)
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: ...and Gateway

On Sun, 13 Mar 2005 18:05:52 -0800 (PST)
Rob N Said As CAoL Message # 00012422

>Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012419
>>On Sat, 12 Mar 2005 09:24:54 -0800
>>Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012416
>>>On Fri, 11 Mar 2005 00:17:24 -0800
>>>Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012414
>>>
>>>   "Kanto!" Eric roars. "Wrap it up! We're getting out of here!"
>>>   "You have no sense of fun," Kanto laughs.
>>>   "Yes I do, this just isn't it," Eric replies darkly. "Now MOVE!"
>>>   Kanto's response is a laugh and a thrust, leaving one of his
>>>remaining attackers favoring one arm, the other dangling and limp.
>>
>>Marivale grumps. "You might have left more than one for me, you
>>know."

  Kell, meanwhile, is leaning against a pedestal, watching the show,
with a small pile of brutes at his feet. [I really should be working
harder,] he thinks, as he parries another brute's club before slamming
him headfirst into the pedestal, [but I haven't watched a fight this
good in years.]

>   With equal parts aggrivation and preoccupation, Karma snaps,
>"Marivale, look around you, there's more than plenty to spare."
>   She parries a rapier with her dagger, lunging in and thrusting her
>flute like a sword to strike the Voddace's solar plexus. Stepping in,
>she delivers a punch to the thug's jaw that drops him. As she turns,
>a second thug with a dagger lunges at her, only to be laid low by a
>blow from the flute, which makes a slightly shrill note as it whips
>through the air.

  Kell glances at Karma for a moment before returning his attention to
Kanto and Marivale. While he is a master of the dagger, there's a
difference between "master," and "artist." The New God and the duelist
are artists, and Kell is enjoying watching them work.
  Not that this prevents him from removing a few crude fighters from
the field by demonstrating a trivial fact; the word "pummel" traces
its history back to the hilt of a dagger, also known as the pommel.
=================================

Subject: AAE9t: Welcome to Marseilles (now go home)

On Tue, 15 Mar 2005 22:02:36 -0800
Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012426

>On Sat, 12 Mar 2005 09:24:54 -0800
>Harlock Said As CAoL Message # 00012416
>>On Fri, 11 Mar 2005 00:17:24 -0800
>>Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012414
>>
>>   "You cannot do this," one of the two men fighting Kanto snarls.
>>"We're the Lord's Hands of Caligari himself!"
>>   "Then I suppose those are not your companions bleeding on the
>>ground," Kanto replies with a grin, "and that I am not making fools
>>of you two as we speak."
>>   "Kanto!" Eric roars. "Wrap it up! We're getting out of here!"
>>   "You have no sense of fun," Kanto laughs.
>>   "Yes I do, this just isn't it," Eric replies darkly. "Now MOVE!"
>>   Kanto's response is a laugh and a thrust, leaving one of his
>>remaining attackers favoring one arm, the other dangling and limp.
>
>Marivale grumps. "You might have left more than one for me, you
>know."

   "Picky picky picky," Kanto says with a chuckle. "Amuse yourself
with the remaining would-be duelist, then, if you wish. Perhaps a
dozen or so of these aptly-named 'brutes' will keep me interested, if
I try fighting them all at once."

>   He deftly intercepts the unwounded Vodacce's next thrust at Kanto,
>turning the blade in his hand, but not quite disarming him.
>Marivale's eyebrows go up seemingly of their own accord.
>"Impressive," he says, as his parrying dagger whips up to catch the
>killer's blade and snap it six inches from the hilt, "I don't usually
>have to resort to that trick."

   The man curses in Vodacce, not seeming terribly surprised (though
he is _extremely_ annoyed) as he reaches for his own secondary.

>As the Vodacce scrambles for his dirk, Marivale's rapier flicks out
>and opens his throat in a gory welter of blood.

   Several of the brutes look shocked at the sudden death delivered by
Marivale's blade. Eric looks at them grimly. "What did you expect?
You're trying to kill us."
   "Yes, but _you_ are _Heroes!_ At least, we thought you were --
urk," one of the brutes says just before one of Eric's shuriken buries
itself in one of his nerve clusters.
   "Sorry to disappoint you," he says with a savage grin as the man
collapses. He looks around a second time, grin fading slowly, as the
wary brutes step farther away from the rapidly-whirling death
protecting the Hunter and the two ladies beneath the chain's whistling
grasp. "Huh. Kanto, any of the ones you dropped dead?"
   "Of course," Kanto replies, then looks down, nonplussed. "Only one,
however."
   "You were _trying_ to kill him, right?" Eric asks. "Deliberately."
   "That is typically my immediate reaction to an ambush," the New God
explains mildly.
   "Fair enough," Eric replies. "Still, you did not make the same
deliberate effort with the others, correct?" His Mastery of the
fundamental energy of reality coming to the fore, Eric immediately
dives into a study of its structure around them. (A small portion of
his mind recognizes that another section of his mind is literally on
constant alert for any sign of Infra-Red or her agents.) He begins to
hum in time with Rio, then stops in mild annoyance.

*No!* Rio sends to her brother in surprise. *Don't stop -- that was
combining our Spheres.* She shakes her head in amused irritation. *I'm
just annoyed I didn't think of it sooner.*

   Eric frowns briefly, then starts humming again. Their mutual
abilities in Prime and Entropy merge, him feeling her sense of two
musical instruments harmonizing as he picks up the feeling as two
students practicing the same kata, their chi flowing as one...
   "Rules," he mutters. "This world defines Heroes, Villains, a few in
between as 'Scoundrels,' and the first person to say 'I like the sound
of that' can join the boy scout." He backhands a brute, knocking him
insensate.

"And these...are Brutes. Less capable, tend to come in groups of up to
six called Brute Squads, and it's easier for Heroes or Villains to
take them down." Rio chuckles. "I guess when there's just one big one
'he is da brute squad'."

   "Like him?" Eric sighs, noting the Lord's Hand trying to get up, a
dagger in one hand. Seeing the attention, he collapses again with a
frustrated sigh. "That would be a...Henchman? Gods, they actually
_call_ them these things here?" Eric shakes his head. "Sort of
'Villain-lite,' apparently...I'm losing the connection. I guess the
reality rule has to be right _there_ to read."

>Erin and Veren look at each other. Erin's eyebrows raise. "Move, he
>says. Noath?" Veren shrugs agreement and a withering hail of arrow
>fire pours out to the north side of the square. Within moments, the
>street is clear. Erindrea speaks up again. "OK, we have a path. We
>can backtrack latah if we need to."

   "Direction is irrelevant, as long as it's away from _them,_" Eric
replies, gesturing at the remains of the ambush.
   "Just remember, we are going to want to return to ze docks," Jeanne
notes. "Zose are south."
   "We'll manage," Eric comments dryly.

Then...
>On Sun, 13 Mar 2005 20:29:39 -0000
>Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012419
>
>   Two more thugs are taken down, one by a brown leather shoe to the
>face, the other by a palm strike. As Karma straightens, a thug is
>shoved at her, sword drawn. Her parry with the dagger actually forces
>the sword from the thug's hand. Trembling, he reachs for his knife,
>but the flute lashs out and knocks his hand away, as she drops the
>dagger and grabs the thug's hood to rip it off.
>   For a moment, Karma pauses, clearly shocked at the mere boy before
>her. Then she gets angry, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him
>over her raised knee.
>   "This, is what, you get, for playing, with Vodacce, thugs!" she
>shouts as she spanks him. She lets him go and shoves him away with a
>foot to the seat of his pants. "Now, go home to your mother!" she
>adds, then suddenly elbows the Vodacce creeping up behind her,
>twisting and delivering four more blows to the body before he has
>time to fall over.
>   Grabbing her flute and dagger, she falls back toward the archers,
>"Yeah. Let's get out of here before I get even angrier."

   "Welcome to Theah," Jeanne agrees grimly. "Equal parts Alexandre
Dumas, Comte de Saint-Germain, and Torquemada." She gestures ahead.
"Come with me. It is not far to my, how you say, 'safe house.'"
   "Good," Eric replies with a nod. *Rio?*

*Hm?*

   *We should practice that when we get the chance. I have a sinking
feeling it's going to come in handy while we're here,* Eric sends.

*I get to teach the Great Hunter new tricks. Kewl,* Rio sends
playfully. *Though I've only taught newbies before. Teaching a Master
should be interesting.*

   *I'm an anomaly,* Eric replies. *I've been _using_ chi for over a
decade now, but this..._being_ it...I'm working half on instinct and
half on sheer cussedness.* He grins back sourly. *And I should warn
you, I'm a pain in the butt as a pupil.*

*Oh, I believe it.*
--
Eric and Rio
Lancing evil together since 1999
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: Welcome to Marseilles (now go home)

On Wed, 16 Mar 2005 18:58:16 -0800
Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012430

>On Tue, 15 Mar 2005 22:02:36 -0800
>Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012426
>
>   Eric frowns briefly, then starts humming again. Their mutual
>abilities in Prime and Entropy merge, him feeling her sense of two
>musical instruments harmonizing as he picks up the feeling as two
>students practicing the same kata, their chi flowing as one...
>   "Rules," he mutters. "This world defines Heroes, Villains, a few
>in between as 'Scoundrels,' and the first person to say 'I like the
>sound of that' can join the boy scout." He backhands a brute,
>knocking him insensate.

"Hmph," comments Marivale. "I suppose this world may call me a
Scoundrel, then, for I object to leaving live opponents on my
backtrail.
 Innocents are another matter, of course." His eyes narrow as he
examines the nearest brute. "Then again, I have been known to accept
surrenders, provided they are offered promptly enough."
=================================

Subject: AAE9T: Cosmic Concerns

On Wed, 16 Mar 2005 19:16:16 -0800
Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012431

*"Oracle, Aurora, my envisioning of the Theah expedition shows a
Discie being attracted to the skirmish."* Hydra announces to his
associates.

*"Yes. He is already on his way there, having sensed the disturbance
of the Maelstrom Bridge erupting there. However there is little risk
involved. Nothing in that realm can harm it physically, and there are
next to no psionic forces there that can compete with it. The only
danger involves it's vulnerablity to magic, and almost all of the
magical forces it will encounter do damage by manipulating physical
objects, and energies."* Oracle replies.

*"Still, better safe than sorry."* Aurora offers. *"Hydra, I suggest
you teach it a method to psionically prevent a disaster such as
happened with Jadis. My vision of it's path after that shows that no
matter what, it will survive."*

*Discie, you have a lable that the planet born refer to you by?* Hydra
asks the Discie in question, across several dimensional barriers and
across time.

*Yes, mighty one. Many of them call me Spinner. May I be so bold as to
ask why you have taken notice of me?* Spinner answers.

*I have seen that you are about to enter a place that contains some
danger for your kind. It has been suggested that I teach you how to
protect yourself from this danger. If you will do this {}, you will be
able to prohibit certain actions which would kill you instantly.*
Hydra tells him before turning his attention else where.

*I thank you, mighty one.* Spinner says, in case the Starspawn is
still listening. [Oh well, I wonder what he meant by saying I was
about to enter some dangerous place?...Maybe I ought to study what he
gave me thouroughly. Perhaps I can addapt it to other uses.] The
Discie thinks to itself.

Two days later.

[WHAT in the name of The Stardragon was THAT?] Spinner exclaims to
himself, as he begins teleporting from one universal dimension, to
another. Heading towards the disturbance he had felt in the
dimensional distance, directly towards Earth 9.
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: Welcome to Marseilles (now go home)

On Wed, 16 Mar 2005 19:27:40 -0800
Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012432

>Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012426
>
>   *We should practice that when we get the chance. I have a sinking
>feeling it's going to come in handy while we're here,* Eric sends.
>
>*I get to teach the Great Hunter new tricks. Kewl,* Rio sends
>playfully. *Though I've only taught newbies before. Teaching a Master
>should be interesting.*
>
>   *I'm an anomaly,* Eric replies. *I've been _using_ chi for over a
>decade now, but this..._being_ it...I'm working half on instinct and
>half on sheer cussedness.* He grins back sourly. *And I should warn
>you, I'm a pain in the butt as a pupil.*
>
>*Oh, I believe it.*

As Eric and Rio conclude their mental conversation, there is a small
pop as the air is forced out of the volume that a Discie now occupies.
A moment later, he 'communicates' with those directly below him.
*Excuse me, I hope I'm not disturbing anyone, but was there some kind
of ... significant ... disturbance, on this world in the very recent
past?* He asks.
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: Welcome to Marseilles (now go home)

On Fri, 18 Mar 2005 20:03:19 -0800
Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012438

>On Wed, 16 Mar 2005 18:58:16 -0800
>Harlock Said As CAoL Message # 00012430
>
>>On Tue, 15 Mar 2005 22:02:36 -0800
>>Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012426
>>
>>   Eric frowns briefly, then starts humming again. Their mutual
>>abilities in Prime and Entropy merge, him feeling her sense of two
>>musical instruments harmonizing as he picks up the feeling as two
>>students practicing the same kata, their chi flowing as one...
>>   "Rules," he mutters. "This world defines Heroes, Villains, a few
>>in between as 'Scoundrels,' and the first person to say 'I like the
>>sound of that' can join the boy scout." He backhands a brute,
>>knocking him insensate.
>
>"Hmph," comments Marivale. "I suppose this world may call me a
>Scoundrel, then, for I object to leaving live opponents on my
>backtrail.
>   Innocents are another matter, of course." His eyes narrow as he
>examines the nearest brute. "Then again, I have been known to accept
>surrenders, provided they are offered promptly enough."

   The brute nods most emphatically. (While brutes are the bottom of
the barrel in terms of Thean small-h-heroic combat, there is a certain
amount of Darwinian development among them -- surviving Scoundrels
being one of the primary instincts among them. 8^) "I surrender, I
surrender!" He insists.
   But then...

>On Wed, 16 Mar 2005 19:27:40 -0800
>Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012432
>
>As Eric and Rio conclude their mental conversation, there is a small
>pop as the air is forced out of the volume that a Discie now
>occupies. A moment later, he 'communicates' with those directly below
>him. *Excuse me, I hope I'm not disturbing anyone, but was there some
>kind of ... significant ... disturbance, on this world in the very
>recent past?* He asks.

Rio "eeps" in surprise. Then she remembers back to watching the CAoL
though an x-window while the Army of Light faced Lunitic on the
"Legion of Heroes" world, and surprise turns to annoyance. ^What brain
trust thought sending one of _those_ into a 17th century realm would
be a good idea?^ she sends privately to her brother.

   Eric Spocks an eyebrow at the telepathic transmission from the
flying plate, then glances sidelong at his sister's mental commentary.
"You could say that," he replies dryly to the disc.
   A moment later, the few brutes who are still conscious scream and
run like the Abyss itself were after them down all four roadways. Eric
looks after them with a mix of curiosity and annoyance. "Well. That
was...interesting." Turning back to the Discie, he adds, "This is not
the normal reality here. Our world is..." he sighs. "We can explain on
the way. In the meantime, do you have a holographic projector or
shapeshifting abilities or the power to Cloud Men's Minds or
_something_ to keep people from doing that --" he gestures at the
slowest pack of fleeing brutes, the only ones still immediately
visible -- "when they see you? Apparently, sentient machines aren't
popular here."
   Kanto snorts. "Hmph. It looks like what was left of the last Mother
Box that tried to lecture Kalibak."
   "Unhelpful, Kanto," Eric sighs.
   "Perhaps I can help," Agent Faure interrupts. "The only advanced
machinery is called 'Syrneth' here, from a name given to a collection
of species that seem to have lived in the Theans' ancient past. They
developed almost magical technologies -- and in some cases, 'almost'
may not be accurate. These devices have an unfortunate reputation for
being dangerous, the self-motivated ones being the most feared of
all."
   Eric rolls his eyes. "Oh, great."
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: Welcome to Marseilles (now go home)

On Sat, 19 Mar 2005 16:00:06 -0800
Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012442

>On Fri, 18 Mar 2005 20:03:19 -0800
>Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012438
>
>   A moment later, the few brutes who are still conscious scream and
>run like the Abyss itself were after them down all four roadways.
>Eric looks after them with a mix of curiosity and annoyance. "Well.
>That was...interesting." Turning back to the Discie, he adds, "This
>is not the normal reality here. Our world is..." he sighs. "We can
>explain on the way. In the meantime, do you have a holographic
>projector or shapeshifting abilities or the power to Cloud Men's
>Minds or _something_ to keep people from doing that --" he gestures
>at the slowest pack of fleeing brutes, the only ones still
>immediately visible -- "when they see you? Apparently, sentient
>machines aren't popular here."

*"But, I'm not a machine. I'm a Discie."* The Discie responds.

>   Kanto snorts. "Hmph. It looks like what was left of the last
>Mother Box that tried to lecture Kalibak."
>   "Unhelpful, Kanto," Eric sighs.

*"Who is Kalibak, and what is a Mother Box?"* The Discie asks, clearly
puzzled.

>   "Perhaps I can help," Agent Faure interrupts. "The only advanced
>machinery is called 'Syrneth' here, from a name given to a collection
>of species that seem to have lived in the Theans' ancient past. They
>developed almost magical technologies -- and in some cases, 'almost'
>may not be accurate. These devices have an unfortunate reputation for
>being dangerous, the self-motivated ones being the most feared of
>all."
>   Eric rolls his eyes. "Oh, great."

*"I take it I resemble one of these Syrneth? Uh, perhaps I should
acquaint you with the lable that most planet born apply to me. Many of
your kind call me Spinner. Maybe I should try to look more like one of
you."* Suiting action to word, Spinner floats down to between four and
five feet off the ground. Then he begins manipulating gravitational
forces. The volume of air below him, and somewhat above him wavers
into and out of view, then coalesces into the shape of a REALLY fat
man, about six foot ten and four feet side to side and front to back.
He is wearing pretty much the same that Eric is only expanded to fit a
LARGE body. The face looks a LOT like Eric would if Eric weighed
TWELVE HUNDRED pounds. "*OOF! That's hard to do. How's that?"* He
asks.
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: Welcome to Marseilles (now go home)

On Sun, 20 Mar 2005 05:07:45 -0000
Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012443

>On Sat, 19 Mar 2005 16:00:06 -0800
>Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012442
>
>>On Fri, 18 Mar 2005 20:03:19 -0800
>>Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012438
>
> *"But, I'm not a machine. I'm a Discie."* The Discie responds.

   *"To them, it won't matter,"* Karma replies.

>*"Who is Kalibak, and what is a Mother Box?"* The Discie asks,
>clearly puzzled.

   *"We can explain later,"* Karma notes, *"Right now, your appearance
is going to cause difficulties."*

>>   "Perhaps I can help," Agent Faure interrupts. "The only advanced
>>machinery is called 'Syrneth' here, from a name given to a
>>collection of species that seem to have lived in the Theans' ancient
>>past. They developed almost magical technologies -- and in some
>>cases, 'almost' may not be accurate. These devices have an
>>unfortunate reputation for being dangerous, the self-motivated ones
>>being the most feared of all."
>>   Eric rolls his eyes. "Oh, great."

   *"Joy,"* Karma adds.

> *"I take it I resemble one of these Syrneth? Uh, perhaps I should
>acquaint you with the lable that most planet born apply to me. Many
>of your kind call me Spinner. Maybe I should try to look more like
>one of you."* Suiting action to word, Spinner floats down to between
>four and five feet off the ground. Then he begins manipulating
>gravitational forces. The volume of air below him, and somewhat above
>him wavers into and out of view, then coalesces into the shape of a
>REALLY fat man, about six foot ten and four feet side to side and
>front to back. He is wearing pretty much the same that Eric is only
>expanded to fit a LARGE body. The face looks a LOT like Eric would if
>Eric weighed TWELVE HUNDRED pounds. "*OOF! That's hard to do. How's
>that?"* He asks.

   *"Close, but it needs some changes, try this man instead,"* Karma
says hurriedly.
   *{}*
   The mental image offered is a balding man with graying black hair,
apparently in his early 40's. He looks to be about 6 feet tall and 300
pounds. He's dressed in tunic and pants, with calloused hands and
feet. He has a ruddy complexion and brown eyes with a kindly look
about his features. On his back is a wicker basket with a burlap lid,
held to his person by rope shoulder straps, that looks suitable for
hiding someone shaped like Spinner.
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: Welcome to Marseilles (now go home)

On Mon, 21 Mar 2005 18:26:56 -0800
Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012444

>On Sun, 20 Mar 2005 05:07:45 -0000
>Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012443
>
>   *"Close, but it needs some changes, try this man instead,"* Karma
>says hurriedly.
>   *{}*
>   The mental image offered is a balding man with graying black hair,
>apparently in his early 40's. He looks to be about 6 feet tall and
>300 pounds. He's dressed in tunic and pants, with calloused hands and
>feet. He has a ruddy complexion and brown eyes with a kindly look
>about his features. On his back is a wicker basket with a burlap lid,
>held to his person by rope shoulder straps, that looks suitable for
>hiding someone shaped like Spinner.

Spinner mulls the offered image over, for a minute. Examining every
aspect of it. *"I think I can do that, but I will have to modify it
somewhat. Essentially, I have two options. The first is generating a
mirage of me looking like something or someone else. The other is to
prevent any electromagnetic energy from reaching me at all. To do the
first, the image must at least occupy ALL the volume I do. Bending the
electromagnetic energy around me is much easier, but can be penetrated
by anyone with a sense of perception (OOC: as in E.E.Smith's books).
The first method would fool even one with a sense of perception."* He
explains. *"Which would you suggest?"*
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: Welcome to Marseilles (now go home)

On Tue, 22 Mar 2005 04:34:06 -0000
Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012445

>On Mon, 21 Mar 2005 18:26:56 -0800
>Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012444
>
>Spinner mulls the offered image over, for a minute. Examining every
>aspect of it. *"I think I can do that, but I will have to modify it
>somewhat. Essentially, I have two options. The first is generating a
>mirage of me looking like something or someone else. The other is to
>prevent any electromagnetic energy from reaching me at all. To do the
>first, the image must at least occupy ALL the volume I do. Bending
>the electromagnetic energy around me is much easier, but can be
>penetrated by anyone with a sense of perception (OOC: as in
>E.E.Smith's books). The first method would fool even one with a sense
>of perception."* He explains. *"Which would you suggest?"*

   *"At the moment, the second,"* Karma replies. *"I'd meant for you
to change your body position from this,"* she adds, holding her hand
flat horizontally, before switching it to vertically and continuing,
*"To this. Then create the mirage. But if you can be invisible, then
we can work on that other idea later."*
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: Welcome to Marseilles (now go home)

On Tue, 22 Mar 2005 17:53:47 -0800
Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012451

>Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012445
>
>   *"At the moment, the second,"* Karma replies. *"I'd meant for you
>to change your body position from this,"* she adds, holding her hand
>flat horizontally, before switching it to vertically and continuing,
>*"To this. Then create the mirage. But if you can be invisible, then
>we can work on that other idea later."*

*"Ah, I see. I had not considered that. While my spacial orientation
means little to me, except for purposes of frictional opposition to
motion, my experiences with planet born have lead me to orient myself
horizontally to local gravitational surfaces. Someone even once told
me I looked like a buzz saw looking for someone to bisect, when I
orient myself perpendicularly to the ground. Very well, invisible it
is."* Spinner replies. A moment later, he releases the forces that
were causing him to look like a VERY fat Eric. The discie is only
visible for just long enough to see before he again begins to wrap
gravity again. Almost instantly he vanishes from view. Rising up
slightly he takes up position a few feet above the CaoLers again.
*"How is that"*
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: Welcome to Marseilles (now go home)

On Tue, 22 Mar 2005 20:49:45 -0800
Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012453

>On Tue, 22 Mar 2005 17:53:47 -0800
>Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012451
>
>>Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012445
>>
>>   *"At the moment, the second,"* Karma replies. *"I'd meant for you
>>to change your body position from this,"* she adds, holding her hand
>>flat horizontally, before switching it to vertically and continuing,
>>*"To this. Then create the mirage. But if you can be invisible, then
>>we can work on that other idea later."*

   @"What she said,"@ Eric agrees. @"Besides, if we run into anything
with a Sense of Perception _here,_ we have much larger problems than
spooking the locals."@ ^Not to mention that that 'disguise' wouldn't
fool Grandma, and she's been dead for nine years,^ he adds privately
to Rio. She almost stifles a snicker.

>Very well, invisible it is."* Spinner replies. A moment later, he
>releases the forces that were causing him to look like a VERY fat
>Eric. The discie is only visible for just long enough to see before
>he again begins to wrap gravity again. Almost instantly he vanishes
>from view. Rising up slightly he takes up position a few feet above
>the CAoLers again. *"How is that"*

   @"Much better,"@ Eric replies, he and his sister nodding as one
(and displaying enough similarity to be siblings for probably the
first time since the CAoL's met them).
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: Welcome to Marseilles (now go home)

On Fri, 25 Mar 2005 00:24:10 -0800
Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012466

>On Sat, 19 Mar 2005 16:00:06 -0800
>Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012442
>
>>On Fri, 18 Mar 2005 20:03:19 -0800
>>Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012438
>>
>>   "Perhaps I can help," Agent Faure interrupts. "The only advanced
>>machinery is called 'Syrneth' here, from a name given to a
>>collection of species that seem to have lived in the Theans' ancient
>>past. They developed almost magical technologies -- and in some
>>cases, 'almost' may not be accurate. These devices have an
>>unfortunate reputation for being dangerous, the self-motivated ones
>>being the most feared of all."
>>   Eric rolls his eyes. "Oh, great."
>
>*"I take it I resemble one of these Syrneth?

"No, like one of their machines," Rio mutters, softly enough to not
interrupt the flow of conversation. "Geez, if this thing's going to
require a lecture and detailed instructions every time we turn
around..." She shakes her head and watches, then giggles as it tries
(and fails) to duplicate her brother.

Then:
>On Tue, 22 Mar 2005 20:49:45 -0800
>Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012453

<snip Spinner turning invisible>
>   @"Much better,"@ Eric replies, he and his sister nodding as one
>(and displaying enough similarity to be siblings for probably the
>first time since the CAoL's met them).

"Just make sure you don't bump into anyone -- or anything -- that
might give you away," the young mage adds, still grinning.
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: Welcome to Marseilles (now go home)

On Sat, 26 Mar 2005 10:40:30 -0800
Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012467

>On Fri, 25 Mar 2005 00:24:10 -0800
>Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012466
>
>"Just make sure you don't bump into anyone -- or anything -- that
>might give you away," the young mage adds, still grinning.

*"Of course. I dislike breaking things accidentally."* Spinner
responds.
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: Welcome to Marseilles (now go home)

On Sat, 26 Mar 2005 13:22:02 -0800
Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012468

>On Sat, 26 Mar 2005 10:40:30 -0800
>Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012467
>
>*"Of course. I dislike breaking things accidentally."* Spinner
>responds.

^Oh, _that's_ comforting,^ Rio sends sarcastically to her big brother.

   ^I think it is,^ Eric replies with dark amusement ^I prefer people
who would rather break things...on purpose.^
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: Welcome to Marseilles (now go home)

On Tue, 29 Mar 2005 06:16:04 +0100
Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012469

>On Sat, 26 Mar 2005 13:22:02 -0800
>Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012468
>>On Sat, 26 Mar 2005 10:40:30 -0800
>>Dane Said As CAoL Message # 00012467
>>
>>*"Of course. I dislike breaking things accidentally."* Spinner
>>responds.
>
>^Oh, _that's_ comforting,^ Rio sends sarcastically to her big
>brother.
>
>   ^I think it is,^ Eric replies with dark amusement ^I prefer people
>who would rather break things...on purpose.^

   Karma nods approval in the general direction of Spinner's voice.
*"Good. Bear in mind these people probably don't cope well with
disembodied voices. We'd better go before they regain their nerve,
Sin-earth or whatever you call it tech or no."*
=================================

Subject: AAE9t: Eat, Sleep...

On Wed, 30 Mar 2005 23:17:44 -0800
Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012474

>On Tue, 29 Mar 2005 06:16:04 +0100
>Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012469
>
>   Karma nods approval in the general direction of Spinner's voice.
>*"Good. Bear in mind these people probably don't cope well with
>disembodied voices. We'd better go before they regain their nerve,
>Sin-earth or whatever you call it tech or no."*

   Half an hour later.
   Jeanne Faure, Agent of UNTIL, leans over to stare glumly at the map
of Western Europe in the center of the table. Ignoring the food in
front of her (the group having been served by a pair of extremely
devoted Gallic servants), she cups her chin in her hand, finger
pressed against her lower lip, then taps a small dot northwest of
Marseilles. "Avignon," she mutters to herself.
   "Hm?" The Hunter, ever alert, notices the reaction.
   "Oh, pardonnez-moi," she replies distractedly. "Some spoiled boy
has declared himself 'Emperor' of France. Apparently, he has some
ability to claim descent from the old kings, one bolstered by the
large castle that formed overnight in Avignon. It is now the seat of
his power, though he does not control much."
   Eric's eyes narrow slightly. "He controls enough to worry you."
   "Oui. Newly created 'nobles' flock to his banner, and
this...reality...is sapping the memory of liberte from my people."
Jeanne's hand clenches into a trembling fist. "Between this boy-king
and the villain Caligari, the area of France beneath the invader's
cloud is dark indeed."
   "So what do you suggest?" the Hunter asks.
   Kanto laughs. "For a trained killer, Lancer, you seem most
reluctant to apply your skills."
   Eric turns a dagger-filled glare at the New God. "I apply them as
sparingly as I can afford to."
   "Ahem," Jeanne interrupts, somehow managing to interject politely.
"According to my sources, which remain loyal to Paris for the moment,
Caligari's island has most recently been spotted west of Italy, east
of Corsica and Sardinia. He appears to be consolidating his power for
the moment. The blasphemous...the Prince is attempting to install a
Pope of his own making in Rome, while ingratiating himself with
L'Empereur. He is well on his way to taking control of the naive boy's
court through his courtiers. Worst of all, that monster Malaca is
working with Caligari, sending his so-called Inquisitors throughout
the realm to kill their enemies."
   She purses her lips into a near-frown. "To answer your question,
the island should have landed by now to communicate and resupply. My
cousin is on a ship with allies from Caligari's universe; with luck,
they should have docked by the time we can reach them. From there, we
sail to the island and deal with the Prince."

"That's so weird," Rio, who had been humming quietly to herself,
comments before Eric can continue. When he looks at her, one eyebrow
raised, she holds out her mug. "This mug's past...it's like looking at
a double exposure. It used to be a coffee cup. But it wasn't."

   "I never thought I'd miss Wrinkle," Eric replies dryly. Turning
back to Agent Faure, he continues. "These High Lords are pretty tough
customers, from what I've heard. So far, we've been lucky -- two of
the three we've 'beaten' actually switched sides. The third one, we
had to throw cosmic powers at. Any idea of our immortal prince's
weaknesses?"
   Jeanne shakes her head. "No. However, we do not need to kill him if
we can remove his reality from ours, non? This...island, ship,
fortress of his...it is the seat of his power. If we can take control
of the machine...it is unlike the other power devices of the High
Lords. It _is_ a machine, and all machines can be put into reverse,
oui?"
--
Lancers, an Agent and a New God
"It'd take an act of _God_ to..." Kanto smiled. "...never mind..."
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: Eat, Sleep...

On Thu, 31 Mar 2005 01:27:48 -0800
Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012475

>On Wed, 30 Mar 2005 23:17:44 -0800
>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012474
>
>   Jeanne shakes her head. "No. However, we do not need to kill him
>if we can remove his reality from ours, non? This...island, ship,
>fortress of his...it is the seat of his power. If we can take control
>of the machine...it is unlike the other power devices of the High
>Lords. It _is_ a machine, and all machines can be put into reverse,
>oui?"

"Not to put too fine a point on it," Marivale pipes up, "but no. My
family is primarily jewelers, but we've recently started a joint
project with another family making clocks and watches. Fascinating
things, really. But there are devices--you'll pardon me if I don't
know the technical terms--that ensure that a particular gear only
turns one way.
 Try to reverse it, and...something will break. So what happens if a
machine with almost god-like power breaks, pray tell?"
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: Eat, Sleep...

On Thu, 31 Mar 2005 07:37:51 -0800
Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012476

>On Thu, 31 Mar 2005 01:27:48 -0800
>Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012475
>
>"Not to put too fine a point on it," Marivale pipes up, "but no. My
>family is primarily jewelers, but we've recently started a joint
>project with another family making clocks and watches. Fascinating
>things, really. But there are devices--you'll pardon me if I don't
>know the technical terms--that ensure that a particular gear only
>turns one way.
> Try to reverse it, and...something will break. So what happens if a
>machine with almost god-like power breaks, pray tell?"

Rio looks up. "I thought breaking it was the point?" she comments.
"The analogy is valid, though -- at least some of the Syrneth devices
are called 'clockwork mechanisms,' but I don't know if that's just
because that's the only term they have for intricate dohickies," the
Ecstatic adds with a grin.
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: Eat, Sleep...

On Thu, 31 Mar 2005 16:21:23 +0100
Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012477

>On Wed, 30 Mar 2005 23:17:44 -0800
>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012474
>
>"That's so weird," Rio, who had been humming quietly to herself,
>comments before Eric can continue. When he looks at her, one eyebrow
>raised, she holds out her mug. "This mug's past...it's like looking
>at a double exposure. It used to be a coffee cup. But it wasn't."

   Karma nods, "Makes sense, given that people just suddenly change
into other people with other lives and other pasts when these things
drop on them."

Then...
>On Thu, 31 Mar 2005 07:37:51 -0800
>Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012476
>
>Rio looks up. "I thought breaking it was the point?" she comments.
>"The analogy is valid, though -- at least some of the Syrneth devices
>are called 'clockwork mechanisms,' but I don't know if that's just
>because that's the only term they have for intricate dohickies," the
>Ecstatic adds with a grin.

   Karma shrugs, "If we're actually dealing with machinery, we can't
really know until we see it. It could explode as it tears itself
apart, which may or may not do anything, it could be put in reverse,
which may or may not do anything, it could just seize up, which may or
may not do anything. To know, we're just going to have to go and look,
or find someone who has and understood what they saw."
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: Eat, Sleep...

On Thu, 31 Mar 2005 14:44:01 -0800
Harlock - Bard Extraordinaire Said As CAoL Message # 00012478

>On Thu, 31 Mar 2005 07:37:51 -0800
>Morgan and/or Roland Said As CAoL Message # 00012476
>
>Rio looks up. "I thought breaking it was the point?" she comments.
>"The analogy is valid, though -- at least some of the Syrneth devices
>are called 'clockwork mechanisms,' but I don't know if that's just
>because that's the only term they have for intricate dohickies," the
>Ecstatic adds with a grin.

"Actually," Marivale responds in a dust-dry voice, "I was more
concerned with the after-effects should we manage to break the Device.
A machine the size of an island could produce a _lot_ of shrapnel if
it happens to explode, yes? Not to mention what would happen if it
were over a large city at the time. This world may call me a Scoundrel
for my willingness to kill, but indiscriminate slaughter is not my
style, and doing it _accidentally_ would be, if anything, worse."
=================================

Subject: AAE9t: Carriage Ride

On Sun, 03 Apr 2005 21:22:06 -0700
Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012483

>On Thu, 31 Mar 2005 16:21:23 +0100
>Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012477
>
>   Karma shrugs, "If we're actually dealing with machinery, we can't
>really know until we see it. It could explode as it tears itself
>apart, which may or may not do anything, it could be put in reverse,
>which may or may not do anything, it could just seize up, which may
>or may not do anything. To know, we're just going to have to go and
>look, or find someone who has and understood what they saw."

   Jeanne purses her lips. "As I understand it, the problem is of
removing the enemy reality while replacing ze energy stolen by these
High Lords. It is my hope, given the reports, that Caligari's
mechanism can be used to do this before we rid ourselves of him.
Otherwise..."
   Eric grimaces. "Hrm. So I've gathered. We have...beings...who have
taken care of that problem once before, but..."
   "There are other realms," Jeanne replies. Eric nods. "It would be
safest, I think, if we can solve this dilemma ourselves."

Then...
>On Thu, 31 Mar 2005 14:44:01 -0800
>Harlock Said As CAoL Message # 00012478
>
>"Actually," Marivale responds in a dust-dry voice, "I was more
>concerned with the after-effects should we manage to break the
>Device. A machine the size of an island could produce a _lot_ of
>shrapnel if it happens to explode, yes? Not to mention what would
>happen if it were over a large city at the time. This world may call
>me a Scoundrel for my willingness to kill, but indiscriminate
>slaughter is not my style, and doing it _accidentally_ would be, if
>anything, worse."

   "That, I think, can be dealt with fairly easily," Jeanne replies.
"Caligari 'lands' the island regularly, to resupply and give orders to
his commanders. When we are finished with his island, if it does not
go back to his world, we sink it. Water makes an excellent shock
absorber, non?"
   Eric chuckles wryly. "You're more ambitious than you look."
   Jeanne shrugs. "It comes with the job, m'sieur Hunter. Now. I have
arranged for carriages to transport us to the docks, where the
Ladyhawk -- a ship from the invaders' realm, though the crew is
sympathetic to our cause -- should be waiting for us. From there, they
can take us to Caligari's island."
   "And then we just have to monkeywrench a machine the size of
Manhattan," Eric drawls.
   "One step at a time," Jeanne replies.

   Fifteen minutes later.
   Two carriages plod along at a stately pace designed to avoid
attracting attention. Eric, meanwhile, wonders which god he has
offended as Kanto alternates between flirting with both ladies in
their carriage -- his sister and the UNTIL agent, much to his
annoyance -- and making subtle commentary about their respective
fighting skills. He resists the urge to throttle the New God for the
fourth time and looks out the window. The carriage ahead of them looks
perfectly normal, and while he cannot see Spinner hovering between the
two vehicles, to his Prime senses the Discie stands out clearly.
   "Wh...?" he mutters, eyes narrowing as he leans forward. [I could
have sworn I saw a silhouette moving...] Without another word, he
throws the door open and vaults onto the ceiling. "Driver," he begins.
   "He has taken to zis reality well," Jeanne murmurs.
   Then all Abyss breaks loose.
   Figures in black tabards seem to drop from the sky, landing in
pairs on the carriages' roofs and grabbing hold of the sides to board
them like pirates.
   "Le Garde Noire!" Jeanne gasps.
   "Who?" Kanto asks.
   "They do L'Empereur's dirty work, what the Musketeers are too
honorable to do!" she cries, drawing saber and pistol as she speaks.
   "Ah," Kanto replies with a grin, and swings out the other door.
   On the roof, Eric is already engaged with the two blackguards on
the carriage roof. The chain whistles furiously as he spins it at
phenomenal speeds. "I've wanted to beat the living daylights out of
someone for a while now," he drawls in his trademark deadly-dry voice.
"Thank you for volunteering."
   "Fool! We are the Garde Noire, L'Empereur's deadliest assassins!"
one of them snarls, leaping forward and proving Darwin is not
universe-centric. With a flick of his wrist, the Hunter sends the
kusari-gama rippling around the man's rapier and arm, throwing each in
different directions off the carriage. The remaining guard takes a
step back, blades held out defensively, until another henchman climbs
up to join him.
   "Real blackguards, huh?" Eric mutters. "Rio, Faure, how are you
two?"

A blackguard tries to clamber in through the open door, but a bit of
sea shanty freezes him in place and a dainty boot to his groin sends
him out the way he came. "Holding our own, but there are a _lot_ of
these guys!"

   At that moment, horses charge on them from behind. The rear
carriage's driver panics, yanking on the reins and sending them down a
different road. A decidedly feminine voice shouts, "You, after them!"
and half her horsemen charge down the offending turn in the road. The
woman in the lead and her remaining men continue to chase after the
lead carriage.
   OOC: Crunch all you want...bonus points for making it look good.
<G>
--
Ah, France...
=================================

Subject: Re: AAE9t: Carriage Ride

On Mon, 4 Apr 2005 15:29:04 +0100
Mike Knight Said As CAoL Message # 00012484

>On Sun, 03 Apr 2005 21:22:06 -0700
>Roland X Said As CAoL Message # 00012483
>
>   Jeanne purses her lips. "As I understand it, the problem is of
>removing the enemy reality while replacing ze energy stolen by these
>High Lords. It is my hope, given the reports, that Caligari's
>mechanism can be used to do this before we rid ourselves of him.
>Otherwise..."
>   Eric grimaces. "Hrm. So I've gathered. We have...beings...who have
>taken care of that problem once before, but..."
>   "There are other realms," Jeanne replies. Eric nods. "It would be
>safest, I think, if we can solve this dilemma ourselves."

   Karma nods, smiling, "From the sounds of things, I think we can."

>Then...
>   "That, I think, can be dealt with fairly easily," Jeanne replies.
>"Caligari 'lands' the island regularly, to resupply and give orders
>to his commanders. When we are finished with his island, if it does
>not go back to his world, we sink it. Water makes an excellent shock
>absorber, non?"
>   Eric chuckles wryly. "You're more ambitious than you look."
>   Jeanne shrugs. "It comes with the job, m'sieur Hunter. Now. I have
>arranged for carriages to transport us to the docks, where the
>Ladyhawk -- a ship from the invaders' realm, though the crew is
>sympathetic to our cause -- should be waiting for us. From there,
>they can take us to Caligari's island."
>   "And then we just have to monkeywrench a machine the size of
>Manhattan," Eric drawls.
>   "One step at a time," Jeanne replies.

   Karma shakes her head with a chuckle. "Well, not to be unreasonably
optimistic, but I worry more about who's between us and sinking the
island than actually sinking it. One step at a time, indeed."

>   Fifteen minutes later.
>   Two carriages plod along at a stately pace designed to avoid
>attracting attention. Eric, meanwhile, wonders which god he has
>offended as Kanto alternates between flirting with both ladies in
>their carriage -- his sister and the UNTIL agent, much to his
>annoyance -- and making subtle commentary about their respective
>fighting skills. He resists the urge to throttle the New God for the
>fourth time and looks out the window. The carriage ahead of them
>looks perfectly normal, and while he cannot see Spinner hovering
>between the two vehicles, to his Prime senses the Discie stands out
>clearly.

   Karma plays the flute she'd brought with her, first slowly, a
haunting melody that seems to come to her from distant memories of
neolithic lands, then after a pause, a classical flute piece that
seems fairly period.

>   "Wh...?" he mutters, eyes narrowing as he leans forward. [I could
>have sworn I saw a silhouette moving...] Without another word, he
>throws the door open and vaults onto the ceiling. "Driver," he
>begins.
>   "He has taken to zis reality well," Jeanne murmurs.
>   Then all Abyss breaks loose.
>   Figures in black tabards seem to drop from the sky, landing in
>pairs on the carriages' roofs and grabbing hold of the sides to board
>them like pirates.

   The thump on the carriage roof halts the impromptu recital. Karma
leans foward to the carriage door. A loud bang, the splintering of
wood and a puff of feathers from the back of her seat where she'd been
seated moments ago, demonstrate succinctly that all is not well
outside the carriage, and soon to be very unhealthy indeed in the
carriage in moments.
   Karma clambors out the door and feels a hand grabbing her. She
reachs up with one hand and twists the wrist as she clings to the side
of the carriage. A yelp of pain is her reward, the Black Hand's other
hand attempting to loosen her grip. She takes the opportunity to pull
the hit man off the roof and send him to land in the road, a distant
heap lying in the dust.

>   At that moment, horses charge on them from behind. The rear
>carriage's driver panics, yanking on the reins and sending them down
>a different road. A decidedly feminine voice shouts, "You, after
>them!" and half her horsemen charge down the offending turn in the
>road. The woman in the lead and her remaining men continue to chase
>after the lead carriage.

   Karma looks over a shoulder as the carriage turns sharply, "We've
got more coming!" she says, shinnying her way up to take a seat beside
the driver.
   "Merci!" the driver calls, shoving the reigns into her hands before
bailing from the carriage himself.
   "Wha?! Crap!" Karma shouts, whipping the reigns to encourage the
horses onward, "Looks like I'm driving!"
   OOC: Only took out one, don't want to be greedy. ;)
=================================