Hush little baby don’t say a word
Momma’s going to buy you a mockingbird
– Common Lullaby
From an upstairs window of a nondescript-looking cobblestone house, a man in a dark brown trench coat tapped his foot against a cracked stone tile on the floor. The only other companion was the shadows lurked nearby.
Inside the otherwise barren room sat a collection of video cameras, laser recording devices, boom microphones, and cornelian aura reading equipment. All of these items glowed with a soft gold-white haze. The unblinking eyes and ears of the equipment were directed at only one individual. The steadfast gaze of the surveillance equipment was all trained on an aged old crone in shabby robes and yellow eyes of a witch named Baba Yaga.
The man dragged his hand through his thinning black hair. His eyes darted to his silk red tie, as he began to fiddle with it. He recalled developing the habit when his sister first became pregnant, and she asked him if he was having the child instead of her.
He picked up a stained yellow receipt of his last battle:
Baba Yaga vs. Brother Roger
Baba Yaga 144 / Brother Roger 0
OFFICIAL COPY
“Psalm 119:150 those who devise wicked schemes are near”, was scribbled in by hand.
After rereading the printout for the millionth time Brother Roger muttered to himself, “but they are far from your law.”
After his fight with the witch, he felt abnormally empty. His friends and fellow Church parishioners suggested that it was the drain. He had lost fights before but never experienced this level of emptiness. Even his best friend and guild master, The Deacon, said it was only stress.
At first, he almost accepted what his friends and family was telling him. Exactly 7 hours after the battle, his Holy Bible fell from his lap and opened up to Psalm 119:150. His well-worn Bible had a steel cover on it. It was originally given to his grandfather before serving in World War 2. Since his return, it was passed from father to son and now was in the possession of Brother Roger.
After he brought the Holy book to the Astral Plane, it aided him by reducing damage in mage duels and improving his healing skills. Either through divine providence or some other unexplained reason the book would open up and reveal advice when needed most.
He looked back out of the window towards the Russian Witch. She was standing there with her bodyguard, Taaoon. His short oily black hair, sharp features, and alligator-patterned trench coat contrasted the witch’s horrid appearance.
Because of the clever position of Brother Roger’s house he had the optimum line of sight to the front of Baba Yaga’s guild house called “House of the One God”.
“Can you pick up on what Yaga and Taaoon are saying?” thought Brother Roger to his battle avatar a brown and yellow mockingbird who was some distance away.
His avatar has changed its plumage to blend into the background and was sitting within earshot of the old witch and her chief bodyguard. Taaoon suspiciously, scanned back and forth through his mirror rimmed sunglasses. It was as if he knew he was being watched.
Brother Roger suspected that Taaoon’s glasses were magically enhanced in order to spot all life signatures and people in cover and concealment. Brother Roger had studiously trained mockingbird to resemble the life/matter signatures of whatever it was near. Even the best detection mages, would walk past mockingbird without noticing it. His battle avatar sat quietly only 10-feet away.
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“They are speaking in their black-tongue. Do you want me to record or translate?” asked mockingbird through their mental link.
Brother Roger knew the House of the One God typically spoke in code only around other members of their guild when in public. Because it changed often, it was difficult to translate on the spot.
“Record, we can translate later,” he mentally replied.
Mockingbird was too slow reacting to the request as their conservation stopped abruptly. Approaching Baba Yaga and Taaoon was a man in a blood-red zoot suit. His black and red fedora covered most of his face, but he recognized St. Ifrit from the guild “Pit Lords of the 6th Degree”. Brother Roger tried to recall the meeting between his guild leader and St. Ifrit. Finally, he gave up trying to remember and asked his battle avatar.
“Two weeks ago: In a meeting of opposites St. Ifrit was frustrated that his devil worshiping church’s membership had dropped significantly. He didn’t understand how America became so secular. He was also annoyed that the “all mighty dolla” seemed to have more influence than the “pitchfork wielding fallen angel”. The Deacon pointed out that since 9-11 church membership had steadily increased, despite the scandals with the Catholic Church. St. Ifrit even made a joking comment that he was almost ready to switch sides. The Deacon would gladly help him find salvation, provided it was genuine.”
Brother Roger then told mockingbird to focus back on the conservation. Adjusting his hat, St. Ifrit walked up and tried to kiss Baba Yaga on the cheek, Taaoon stepped in between them before he could. St. Ifrit’s bodyguard, a 7-foot tall behemoth, in monstrous black armor with gold trim started to suddenly appear and wielded his claymore. St. Ifrit motioned for him to halt. His bodyguard reluctantly obeyed.
“Tell your dog if he tries to touch me again, I’ll rip his face off myself, witch!” snapped St. Ifrit.
Brother Roger made a mental note that St. Ifrit and Baba Yaga were not speaking their black tongue with each other.
“You’re lucky my Queen even graces you with her presence,” replied Taaoon.
Before Taaoon could continue Baba Yaga snapped her fingers and he stopped. He lowered his head and took an obediently step back.
“A thousand apologies Lord Ifrit, my most zealous bodyguard tends to forget his place. Members of the Black Suns and my guild have whispered to the right people. In a few more days the Judges will have no choice but to bend to public pressure and investigate all of Kitty’s battles. During which he will be suspended from all combat. When that happens he will, without a doubt, issue a public challenge. If you hold up to your end of the covenant I will euthanize the pussy cat in a public battle.” She said.
St. Ifrit gave her a wide devilish smile and said, “The 8th King of Hell will provide his personal Abyssal champion for your battle. You shall have no trouble attaining victory.”
She smiled and extended her bone-thin hand. He bowed slightly and kissed it gently. Taaoon glared angrily at him. St. Ifrit smiled back, knowing he scored a minor against Taaoon. Baba Yaga ignored the male posturing and began to push invisible buttons in the air.
Mockingbird asked, “What is she doing?”
Having following her around for weeks Brother Roger knew most of the witch’s habits.
“This is unusual; she never checks her astral messages when she is in front of guests. She considers it an insult when other people do it to her,” Brother Roger replied.
“Many apologies for my rudeness, Lord Ifrit, it appears that our patsy just took the bait. He just issued me a formal challenge and wants to fight in front of the Central Bank of Chicago right now!” She said.
“He reacts quickly. I didn’t think it would be this soon,” St. Ifrit said after raising an eyebrow.
“Neither did I, as long as everything is in place on your end, I’ll accept the challenge.” Baba Yaga waited for St. Ifrit to nod with approval. “Well, then I really don’t think I should disappoint him by showing up late to his funeral.”
She curtseyed to him. St. Ifrit bowed as both groups teleported away with a pop.
Mockingbird waited for a minute, making sure no one was around before flying home. Brother Roger was busy gathering surveillance equipment when mockingbird arrived.
“Who is this Kitty she's fighting?” asked mockingbird.
He looked up at the mess he was making to ponder the question.
“I’m not sure; there has been a recent surge of combatants with kitty or cat in their names. It can be any number of people.” He said stuffing an ink pen into his pocket.
Mockingbird changed his to red plumage to match his tie and jumped on his shoulder. Once Brother Roger was satisfied that he has all he needed, they teleported to the Central Bank of Chicago.