Monday, March 18, 2024

The Lost Girl, part fifteen

The palisade was made of old growth: large, heavy logs a good three feet across, sharpened at the top and driven deep into the earth. They were woven together with something that looked like steel ribbon, gleaming and well-maintained. For all that the place had the look of a simple forest outpost, Chris was willing to bet that it could stand off almost any conventional attack. 

He padded along at Antoinette's side, watching as they neared the wall. If he'd held to his human configuration, the gates would have been well over three times his height; they were wide enough to drive a tractor-trailer through. They were also firmly closed. 

Someone called out, and after a moment there was a sort of distant groan. Chris watched as a massive head and shoulders heaved into view, looking out over the top of the wall. 

Peter, unexpectedly faced with a giant, slowed and called out: "Hello! We seek entry to your city!"

The giant frowned and leaned forward, fumbling a ridiculously large set of lenses into place over its eyes. It looked them over, then shook its head. "No beasts," it said. "No beasts inside these walls."

On Antoinette's left, Elyssa stood up. It wasn't an instantaneous transformation; her body resorbed fur and claws, reshaped bones and flesh, and returned the clothing that she'd taken with her into the change. "Better?" she asked. 

The giant nodded. "No turning back once you're inside. You wear a person's body, and you keep to that."

Chris shrugged his way back to a human configuration as well. "We understand," he said. "We mean no harm."

"Best that you don't," said the giant, then nudged the gates open from the inside. "Come inside, then, if you're willing to follow the rules. We had a caravan arrive earlier, and the market is yet open. There is plenty of time to find what you need, and seek a place for the night as well."

"We recognize your hospitality," Peter said, "and we are grateful for it."

The giant sniffed. "No need for gratitude that we meet our most basic obligations here," it said, but a small smile curled around its lips.

Friday, March 15, 2024

Dark Armor: Accepting A Surrender

The fighting was all but finished by the time they returned to the central hall. The captured invaders left their weapons where they'd laid them, and remains of the Royal Guard came forward to begin the work of collecting them. Pallian didn't stay to watch; he followed Amedin back to the hall. Once everyone was assembled -- more or less -- Kolpis raised his voice. "Who remains to speak for you, troops of the Emissary?"

The woman who had first offered his sword to the Black Knight stood near the front. She turned to the remnant of the troop and called: "Overcaptain?"

Nobody answered. 

"Captains?"

There was a brief pause, then two of the troopers made their way forward to stand beside her. She acknowledged them, then turned back. "I will speak for my soldiers," she said. "I am Dessa of Nordich, the most senior of the remaining captains. These two are Orelan and Barria."

Amedin whispered something. It was utterly silent, but with the helmet Pallian could see his lips move.

"You invaded our lands, our capital city; you laid siege to and invaded our citadel," Kolpis said.

"We served Kilas Irrighast, Emissary of the Second. All that we did was driven by his will, and now he lies dead."

Pallian wondered just how literally she meant that. Were they merely trained to utter loyalty, or had they been given initiations to bind their actions to the Emissary's commands? He couldn't ask, and Amedin -- and therefore Kolpis -- didn't seem to consider the matter important.

"You will swear your loyalty to the House of Teres and the nation of Teregor?" asked the young nobleman. 

Dessa of Nordich took a moment to regard the Black Knight. Pallian ignored the attention, holding still as he regarded the exchange. After a moment she said, "We were ordered into battle, not to sacrifice ourselves to the very last. Yes, I will swear us to you -- both myself, and on behalf of my soldiers." She held up a hand and turned away. "Our Master is dead," she called, raising her voice for her troops. "Our oaths are voided. I will swear us to the service of this place and these people if they will spare our lives. If any among you cannot hold to such an oath, step aside now. I will consider all who remain bound by the oath I speak on your behalf."

There was a momentary stirring -- mutters, movements, soldiers repeating the captain's words to other soldiers further back. After a moment, a man came forth and planted himself by the wall, across from the bulk of the troops. Another followed him, and then a woman. A heartbeat after that another man stepped out, and then another woman. 

"The Second will dissolve your bones for this, Dessa," said the first of the dissenting men. 

Dessa looked at him with something just short of contempt, and shrugged. "The Second would punish us for our failure here regardless. I feel safer among enemies who seem, at least, to be willing to take us in."

The man spat, and Dessa turned back to Kolpis. "I am ready to offer bond for those of us who have not stepped aside."

Amedin glanced at Pallian -- a slip, since he shouldn't have acknowledged the Black Knight as anything more than the Champion of Teregor -- then stepped forward. "Will you swear to serve the House of Teres and the Nation of Teregor?" asked the half-dead priest. 

"We so swear," answered Dessa. 

"Will you serve as soldiers and guards, to protect the court from its enemies and ensure the prosperity of its people?"

"We so swear," Dessa repeated. 

"Will you remain loyal for all of your days?" asked Amedin. 

"For so long as the House of Teres and the Kingdom of Teregor endures," Dessa replied. 

Pallian nodded at that before he could stop himself. He shouldn't have done it; it was another tell, like Amedan looking to him for guidance. Fortunately, Amedin was nodding also; most people would only see that. 

Dessa's eyes were on him, though. She wasn't most people.

"High Trainer Westrov, Lord Kolpis, would you and your troops see to getting our new soldiers settled? We'll need to know what remains of their command structure, whether they can be integrated with our existing troops, exact numbers..." 

Kolpis grinned. "Fear not," he said. "We'll make it work" He glanced back at the Black Knight, his expression momentarily speculative. 

"Excellent," said Amedin. "I'll see to repairing the doors and their enchantments." He glanced back. "Black Knight, attend me. Until some member of the royal family can be found, the defense of the citadel falls to me."

Pallian nodded, and Westrov and Kolpis went to confer with the three formerly-enemy captains. It was several minutes before they had the troops moving, and the dark armor was starting to feel like a prison, but Pallian managed to keep himself under control. 

"What of us?" asked the squat, dark-haired man who had been the first to refuse Dessa's oath. He and his four companions were standing together, unarmed, surrounded by a detachment of Kolpis' private guard. 

Amedin turned his head, but it was Dakrin Eld who spoke up. "You want a chance to face off against our Champion, Squad Leader?"

The man hesitated, and Dakrin Eld cackled with an old man's abandon. "A prison cell might be best, until things are decided. Or I could remove you from the city, leave you to find honest work starve, or turn brigand. You could even try running back to the Tomb of the First. Perhaps your loyalty would save you there."

Amedin said, "Dakrin..." 

Dakrin turned on him. "You're no longer my tutor, Amedin. That time is well past. If you dislike what I do here, take it up with the Wizard-King."

Amedin sighed. "Very well," he said. "Conduct them to the gaol, until the royals return to make a decision or they themselves change their mind about swearing loyalty."

The chief of Kolpis' private guard inclined her head to the prisoners. "This way, if you would."

When they were at last gone, Amedin turned to look at Pallian. "Walk with me, Black Knight. I must consider the gates, and there are things I needs must learn from you."

Thursday, March 14, 2024

The Lost Girl, part fourteen

"Stay close," said Peter. "I'm going to push us through as fast as I can, so we may be cutting through some dangerous areas. Stay alert, and if you have to stop for something call out." He glanced at Chris. "Or snarl loudly. Whatever. Just make sure we all know."

Chris sniffed, and glanced across at Elyssa, who had also taken a full wolf form. She hadn't taken her necklace into the new configuration; she was still wearing it, like a slender silver collar as she paced along on Antoinette's far side. Morri had dropped back, and was taking the rear again; Agatha had fallen back beside her.

The landscape shifted as they walked: cloudy skies, clear skies, a brief drizzle, a momentary glimpse of daytime moon... trees shifted around them, appearing and disappearing as they passed certain points. At one point, something hissed from back in the underbrush, but it was gone again before Chris could even growl back at it. Peter was shuffling the landscape around them, moving them closer to wherever Tammy Lynn could be found.

There was a brief commotion behind them, and when Chris glanced back he saw Morri on one knee in the dirt, tugging something away from her neck. Beside her, Agatha shook her hand out, dispelling a bit of darkness that still lingered around it. Above them, something was retreating up into higher branches, whimpering softly as it fled.

Peter stopped and turned back. "Are you all right?" 

"Yeah," his partner replied, her voice rough and her tone disgusted. "It just reached down and wrapped around my throat. Pulled me right up off the ground. Agatha saw it and cut me loose." She finished freeing herself, and held out a length of something for the rest of them to see. It wasn't rope, but whether it was tendril, tentacle, or vine Chris could not be sure. 

"Oh, good," said Antoinette lightly. "Something else to have nightmares about." 

"Will you?" asked Morri, cocking her head as she regarded the smaller magus. 

"Not until this is done," Antoinette told her, and Morri nodded respectfully at that. 

"Keep moving," said Peter, but he had a pistol out now. Chris wondered about that; he wasn't certain that he would trust a pistol out here. A blade might actually prove more effective, especially when paired with magic. Then again, if something else attacked and Peter's pistol failed him, well... that was where he and Elyssa came in. Morri and Agatha as well. It was, he supposed, precisely why the Ministry made use of Registered Outsiders. 

"Here we go," Peter muttered to himself, as the path they'd been following resolved into the stone road they'd departed earlier. The road ran ahead for a hundred yards or so, cutting a straight line through the trees; then their way was blocked by the gates of a wooden palisade. "Tammy's in there somewhere, I think."

"I could--" Agatha hesitated visibly. The forest held its share of shadows, but the area around the palisade had been cleared, and the morning sun bathed it in light. "I could scout the place after dark."

Peter glanced back at her, appraising. "That's good to know, and ordinarily I'd wait and ask you to do it. I don't think we have that kind of time, though." He glanced at Antoinette. 

"Straight in?" she asked. 

Peter nodded. "I'll be our face, so I won't have my guard up. You'll need to be the one with magics ready, and the others should be alert for ambush or other treachery." He glanced past her, including the rest of them in his next words. "Don't start anything, but if it comes to violence then do what you need to do. We keep each other safe, we bring Tammy out of this, and we do it with as little drama as possible."

"All right," said Antoinette, glancing at Elyssa and then turning her gaze on Chris. "You heard him. Low-key, easy-going, and no violence if we can avoid it."

Agatha raised a hand, and both the magi turned to look at her. "If it does come to violence..." she said hesitantly, "...the two wolves should go to their halfway shapes. That was... I don't know, but when Chris did it last night it scared me. It might scare anyone else out here, enough to make them hesitate."

Chris cocked his head, and Agatha asked, "What? I'm not allowed to be scared by the terrifying half-beast shape?"

Chris shook himself and looked back at the heavy, sharpened logs of the palisade and the high, wide gate that gave passage through it. He could get past those walls without much problem, but not without attracting attention and not without turning an unknown situation into something definitely hostile. It was better to have Antoinette in charge here; on his own, he might just have gone in. 

"Wait," said Morri. "You're scared of them but you're not scared of me?"

Agatha shrugged. "I wouldn't like to fight you," she said carefully. She paused for a moment, thinking. "I especially wouldn't like to fight you without a lot of darkness to work with, because I'd need it to avoid having you hit me or grab me. But... you're a warrior. I know how to deal with that. When Chris suddenly went to claws and fangs and fur and tail and still somehow a human shape, I just... I don't know. It shook me. I'm not saying it was rational."

Morri shook her head, then grinned. "I'll allow it. Especially since I owe you for saving me from that hangman thing back there."

Agatha grinned back hesitantly, then turned to Peter. "I'm ready. If, um, you are."

"Calmly," said Peter. "Let's go see where Tammy Lynn is now."

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Challenge: Tropes I want IRL

(This post is part of the Wednesday Weekly Blogging Challenge. You can find links to other writers' answers over at Long and Short Reviews. I have not been following along as reliably this year as I did in previous years, but I'm still participating! Sort of.)

Prompt: A book trope I wish happened IRL more often

Well, let me just put this out there: the one I want isn't a "book trope" so much as it a "comic book trope". Specifically, it's the trope of "something weird happens and suddenly somebody has superhero powers/somebody comes of age and discovers their mutant powers". Yeah, that would have incredibly messy effects on the current political and social order, but I hold to the hope that shaking up the entrenched interests with a bunch of super-powered plebes would be worth it. 

I got bitten on the face -- just to the left of my nose, in fact -- by a brown recluse spider a few months back. If this trope happened in real life, I could have gotten superpowers from that. I could 100% lean into The Brown Recluse as my superhero name: the fifty-something guy who mostly goes about his business until, I don't know, somebody robs the bank while I'm trying to use the ATM. Next thing you know, there are webs everywhere and some very confused bad guys who are missing their guns and their wallets.

Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? I mean, at this point in my life I've got a pretty good idea. Most of it is tired and not even all that surprising. ("Original sin? What's so original about it?") I'd be fine using psychic powers to fight corruption at the highest levels of industry, state, and church. 

So, yeah, that's my answer: the world needs more superhero origin stories.

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

The Lost Girl, part thirteen

"Hey, Wolf?" Morri called out as she approached. It was the most tentative that Chris had heard her sound so far, which wasn't very. "We good?"

He nodded. "We're fine," he said. He'd left the bruise on the inderside of his chin, after making sure that his jaw was intact and his teeth were all still in place. That one was too public; it was safer to let it heal at its normal rate. He'd healed everything else, though.

Morri leaned down, inspecting his face from below. "Damn," she said. "You really do heal fast. Do all wolves...?" 

Chris shook his head. "I seem to be tougher than most." 

"Well, I'm not going to argue with that," Morri told him. She studied him for a moment, her expression speculative. "Thanks for sparring with me -- I needed that. Glad I didn't do you any real injury."

"I'm going to be spending most of today as a wolf, I think," Chris told her. "Antoinette's still pretty angry with me, and the less I say the less likely I am to get myself into more trouble."

Morri glanced over to where Antoinette was breaking down her tent with quick, efficient movements. "I think you're going exactly the wrong way on that," she told him. 

Chris shrugged. "We'll see."

Morri shrugged back at him and then strolled away. Chris looked at his own small pack, then shifted down and forward until he wore a full wolf's body. It was a small magic, taking a bit of clothing and equipment with him through the change; easy to do out here. He circled the camp once, tasting the air and checking for scents; the forest was rich with them. 

He circled back to where Antoinette was pulling her pack on. She looked down at him and sighed. "You know what? Fine. Be like that. We can talk about this after we get the girl back -- but we will talk about it."

Monday, March 11, 2024

Fuck Daylight Saving's Time and Trying to Sleep

 It's twelve twenty-four in the morning, and I am awake. 

Beautiful Wife is trying to suggest that I should not be irritated about this because I have been asleep for hours. I have, in fact, been asleep since about six-thirty this past evening; this is true. But I could have slept straight through until morning; this is also true. 

I have also spent the last hour lying in the bed, sleep-mask on and CPAP machine wheezing gently as it did its job, paralytic with exhaustion and praying to Morpheus himself to let me sink back into the deep blackness and weird-ass dreams of REM sleep, while: 

  • Secondborn and Firstborn (newly returned with Beautiful Wife from a trip to tour a college) played with the dog, causing him to become loud and snarly in his enthusiasm. 
  • My alarm went off to remind me to remind Secondborn to take his meds. (Gentle Reader, I did no more than turn that alarm off and slump right back down on the bed. Fortunately, it's a distinctive ring tone, and Secondborn heard it and took his meds anyway.)
  • I got to listen to the thumps and clacks of people closing cabinets and drawers, oven and microwave doors, because nobody in this house knows how to close anything gently enough to be quiet about it.  
  • The screen door to the porch closed itself several times in rapid succession, with a gunshot-noise impact each time: Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Actually that may have been the actual door; it's not sitting in its frame quite right, and it takes a bit of effort to get it to latch.
  • Beautiful Wife hollered up the stairs to ask if the boys wanted scrambled eggs. Note: the bedroom door is at the top of the stairs, the boys' doors to either side.
  • Beautiful Wife hollered back down the stairs that Firstborn had, in fact, put himself to bed as well. (I dared hope that this would lower the overall volume level. Alas, I hoped in vain.)
  • My mother-in-law's two small dogs, barking and yapping, were taken outside to pee. 
  • My mother-in-law's two small dogs, barking and yapping and presumably done peeing, were brought back inside and put to bed. 
    • Both these trips were accompanied by full-volume -- by which I mean to say loud -- conversations.
  • The alarm system on this already-loud-and-creaky wooden house loudly proclaimed: "Open: Patio Door!" every time someone opened the door to take dogs out, bring dogs in, or just step outside while they waited for the oven to heat so that they could make cookies at twelve-twenty in the morning because they wanted a snack before bed.
  • A herd of hippos (I think) performed an impromptu tumbling routine (I think) across the second-floor landing just outside the bedroom door.
    • Possibly they were moose.
    • They might have been practicing the vault instead; gymnastics is an uncertain science.
  • Beautiful Wife and Mother-in-Law held some sort of conversation across the ground floor of the house. This did not involve text messages, intercoms, or carrier pigeons; they just talked loudly enough that they could still hear each other in different rooms. 
  • Crotchstomper McSnuggles went up and down the stairs several time. The stairs are wooden, and in addition to being creaky they provide a perfect sounding board for the click-click-click-click-click-click of the dogs claws. 

Y'all, I have been awake since six o'clock this morning -- which would have been five o'clock if the goddamned Daylight Saving's Time "spring forward" bullshit hadn't rolled through to confuse the issue. I have spent all weekend trying to get caught up on sleep, an effort which has apparently thrown my body for a complete loop all by itself. I have an amazing amount of shit that I need to catch up on at work this week -- not just like "I'm behind," but like, "I have been covering for another co-worker who was working part time and is now out on bereavement leave while I am keeping the boys on track for school and making myself available to help out my mother-in-law while she's recovering from back surgery and the City Manager's Office has just thrown another project my way despite the fact that it really shouldn't be my area anymore and -- while technically simple -- it's going to take a large amount of labor to implement and also it's one of those things that shouldn't be urgent at all except that it's coming from the City Manager's Office so it automatically gets high priority." 

So yeah, by the time Beautiful Wife and Firstborn got back from touring the college, it was about six o'clock, and I was barely on my feet to greet them properly. I put myself to bed because the alternative was to start drinking and just push through, a course which -- I'm sure you all know -- always ends well and carries no possibility of ill effects. 

It would really have been nice to be going into this week on the back of a solid ten or twelve hours of sleep. And I don't mean to insist that the entire house should come to a complete halt, with nobody moving or making any noise just because I went to bed when my sleep cycle bottomed out. On the other hand, I don't think it's unreasonable to hope for some slight, token level of reduced noise rather than the fucking cacophony I was subjected to instead. At least some kind of attempt at keeping it down? Some mild hint of consideration for the fact that I don't usually go to sleep at six-thirty in the fucking evening and maybe -- maybe -- the fact that I have means that I might really need that sleep?

Fuck it. I'm going into work. The boys are on spring break, and I have no obligation to get them anywhere. Maybe I can catch some shit up.

Friday, March 8, 2024

Dark Armor: The Heart of the Defence

The bulk of the troops had been pressing against the passage that led back to the nobles' chambers, and they were eager for action. They were not prepared to be assaulted from behind, or to be trapped against whatever defenses waited ahead. Desperate incantations shivered off the dark armor, no more effective than arrows or crossbow bolts, than blades or mace-heads. 

Pallian was ill-suited to be a Prince of Teregor. He knew this, because instead of feeling a rush of power he only felt regret. He trudged forward, restricting himself to gauntlet-sword and shield as he cut his way through. In addition to their captains -- who were better-equipped, though nowhere near well enough -- these troops had mage-ensigns assigned to them. 

The Shadow of Edrias located and eliminated them with a cold efficiency, often before the troops around them even noticed she was there. 

By the time the Black Knight was close enough to note that his old friend Kolpis stood to arms beside the arms-trainer Westrov and shouted commands at the guidance of the half-dead priest Amedin, the troops in front of him were throwing down their arms and backing away. 

Pallian kept the gauntlet-sword ready, but ceased cutting as he continued his approach. 

Amedin met his eyes through the helmet and asked, "The Emissary of the First has fallen?" 

The Black Knight nodded. 

"Mercy!" cried a woman's voice, not in pleading but in demand. "We served honorably, but our masters were defeated. Spare us, and we will serve you honorably as well."

Kolpis scowled, but the Black Knight raised a hand, then lowered it. He waited. 

The woman who had spoken came forward, stopped before him, and lowered her weapon to the ground. There was a brief pause, and then a scuffling as the soldiers behind her in their dual-gemmed armor did the same. 

The Black Knight didn't speak. Not where anybody beyond the House of Teregor might learn of it. He turned back to Amedin, Westrov, and Kolpis, and nodded. 

"We accept your surrender," said the withered, half-dead priest called Amedin. He knew what Pallian's presence here must mean. "Spread the word among your allies, and let us gather in the hall to discuss what comes next."