Ch: 108 It’s A Topsy-Turvy World
Sivone showed up in the garden, slightly battered with a broken skate. “He pushed me over and took it… he just took it right off my ear.” She sobbed in Becky’s arms. “My skate broke and I lost the earring…”
Gary gathered up her clothes and broken skates while Tawny and Becky took care of her. By the time the young woman was cleaned up and fully repaired, so were her things.
The musician crimped a shiny new bronze ring to her ear with a gentle smile. “All better. If somebody wants to take this one, give it to them, love. You are all that matters.”
“Really Gary… I expected you to lose your mind and go on a rampage…” Tawny said quietly, once the girl was having tea in the corner with big sister Becky.
“Me? No, I promised Shai… we talked about this possibility, she is taking care of that side of things…” He shuddered on his stool. “Shai and I can always find my enchanted items if they are within a few miles, there’s no escaping. That dude is already in a world of hurt, he just doesn’t know it.”
#
The trouble with stealing a magical bad smell ring, is that when you live in a stinky part of town, people notice right away. At first it was subtle, folks sniffing the air and looking around.
Now everywhere he went, before long, the sniffing started. He tucked the thing in his pocket, feeling eyes on his back. The stench came flooding back, seeming even stronger for the brief respite so he jammed it back on.
He fiddled with the bronze earcuff, seating it more carefully on his lobe. He paused for a moment when the stench failed to vanish, then shrugged. It was a fine piece of jewelry, worth a few bits in any case. He strolled through the crowded bustling market, while wondering where to hawk the bauble…
“Aye, there he be. That bit o shiny be the thing taken.”
He had heard that tone and general turn of phrase before. Bixby Staub was no stranger to running, it was his favorite gift. He dug his toes in and kicked off like a jackrabbit with its tail on fire.
The short, stout, unprepossessing man never even skipped a step, he flew down the street, barely touching the ground.
“Oh, he is fast…”
Bannock said to the Shai shaped place where she used to be. Jingling bells and a chorus of surprised, then delighted shouts led the way through the market ward.
#/
Jeremiah McBride stomped back to his home, fuming. Membership in the Puissant Conclave of Nightsoil Shovelers paid well, for almost no effort; he hadn’t shoveled actual dung since his apprenticeship ended. That all got subcontracted to the orphanage for delightfully profitable rates. The stenches he had to endure, living in the docklands, were awful but that couldn’t be helped.
Of course, a member of the Nightsoil guild was an unwelcome neighbor in every higher part of town, trapping his family in prosperous obscurity and ordure for generations.
Seeing… and smelling that happy child sliding along in a pool of clean air was the last straw. He flung open all the windows when he got back to his rambling family home on the best section of the dock ward.
Even here, the stench seemed as thick as ever it was at the canal side. He would acquire one of those cursed rings.
A fast moving form blasted through his window screen, carrying all the foul stenches of an uncovered midden in the bottom of a bog. They shot across his sitting room and out the front door in a blur of high speed movement.
Seconds later, another figure appeared, this one lithe and muscular. A handsome red haired woman with a fearsome look in her eye slipped through the shattered frame with a musical jingle. He mutely pointed to the still swinging front door.
“Thank ye.” She sang, while thudding on a small drum at her waist. The whole interaction took a scant second, before she too vanished, followed an instant later by a terrifying dark figure in feline armor. She passed in silent and menacing grace, ignoring the man as he spilled tea all over his slippers.
Five minutes later, when a new pot of tea was ready, Jeremiah settled down to plan. First he needed to find out where those things came from. The rings that had come to auction in Port Ellis were princely items, forged in silver and enchanted by some mad, hermit mage, or so rumor said…
With a rending crunch, an armored knight of Order came through the remnants of his tattered screen. The tall, shining figure bowed stiffly.
“Please pardon the intrusion, citizen.” They said, from behind their barred visor. He mutely pointed to the door again. “Thank you. I have a friend who can fix that for you, I’ll send him over.”
When he was alone again Jeremiah sipped his tea and thought for a while.
#
The problem with running when the law catches up, is that you have to move to a new town… new town, new terrain.
‘That was the problem…’ Bixby thought as the wide, slow moving canal blocked his escape.
“City planning were nae a great concern in this town, were it?” The hillwoman’s voice was close, dangerously close. “Tae construct an alley that do end at the water’s edge such…”
She paused at the mouth of the alley, a dozen yards away and smiled coldly. “Dinnae swim fer it. I would see thee suffer, nae perish.”
He drew a knife from his belt, flicking it side to side in sudden, erratic movements. “Stay back… I’ll cut you open bitch.” His low hissing whisper reeked of desperation.
She smiled as a wooden training sword appeared in her lazily outstretched hand.
“I would hae the law get its way wi thee as well, so tis wood, nae steel...”
Nara watched in silent amusement from a rooftop as Shai explained a few things in great and painstaking detail.
Why a petty crook with a gift for running and hiding, should not draw the ire of even an apprentice Adventurer, that was the first point.
With a leap so smooth it failed to register as a threat, she closed the gap between them. Her wooden blade flashed once, twice and his knife was sailing into the canal while he clutched a shattered wrist and hand.
He spun, meaning to leap into the canal, when that slightly curved wooden blade slipped between his ankles, spilling him to the pavement.
He landed, with his face sticking out over the water, stone curbing dug into his collarbones as the woman sat on him and made herself comfortable.
The murky surface just a few inches from his nose began to roil and churn as he hung there staring into an abyss of hungry, pinching claws, suckers and tooth ringed lamprey mouths.
“Ye hae been well an truly cursed. Tis nae scavenger nor nibbler on vile things that will nae come tae see thee. I’d nae go swimming hereabouts.”
He flailed and struggled, despite his injured right hand, but it was useless, the woman could not be moved.
“An ye fall in the water, t’will be naught left fer the law but bones fool.” She ground the point of her weapon into his lower back, pinning him in place.
“Ye hae struck an robbed a child, me own sister at that… even so, I dinnae wish yer life.” She whispered, sitting astride the weakly struggling man.
“That trinket ye wear, tis a gift frae a mad mage, an cursed tae any that would steal it frae the rightful owner.” She let a soft and frightful giggle slip free. “I shudder tae tell the stories of those who steal from mages…”
The clanking of steel armor, rattling along at a trot, came up the alley. “Help! Murder! Robbery! Help! I am beset!” Bixby shouted.
“Oh, Shai, there you are, caught him did you?” Bannock said cheerily, making the pinned man deflate.
“Assault on a child, forcible robbery, flight from arrest, property destruction… what am I missing Shai?”
“He did draw steel on me ere’ I battered him intae submission…” She shrugged from her seat. “I call a broken wing fair trading.” She reached down and plucked the tiny ornament from his ear, roughly. “Dae ye need this fer evidence or aught?”
“No, that won’t be needed. You may reclaim your property.” Bannock said while binding the prisoner’s ankles together. “I never liked running. I shan't be chasing you any more.”
Shai took the tiny bronze cuff and hurled it out into the tidal marsh, to vanish in the mire.
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“That ring, fer one hundred years it will lie there, absorbing all manner o foulness and stench. That stench, it shall be ever thine, carried tae yer nose by dark arts and a terrible curse.”
She spoke loudly, more than enough volume to be heard by the crowd of eager watchers on the arcade across the canal from the drama.
“That curse will fall on any who try tae take those trinkets frae me brothers an sisters. Enjoy the foulness ye hae inside, made manifest.”
A small platoon of city guard clattered up and took the bound and injured man in custody. As they carried him away, they left the range of Shai’s ring.
Startled exclamations and at least one man retching in the gutter accompanied the outraged squawk of the prisoner, as he was dropped to the pavement when the stench hit.
“I shall walk wi thee boys, ye may bask in mine aura… fer a time. That sink shall ever follow this wretch, however he may wander.” She announced again, making things crystal clear.
#
Gary was getting better at explaining the things he did… comparatively.
“Curses only work if the victim knowingly and willingly opens themselves to the item. I could cast curses around all day, but unless a person chooses to accept it… no dice.”
Bannock had a skeptical look on their face, while the local official from Order frowned, deep within their robes of office. At least he assumed they were frowning… stupid robes.
Gary was in common workmans garb, spangled with flecks of gleaming brass, bronze and luminous seashell. He leaned against his garden wall, fresh from the workbench and chatting amiably in the courtyard outside the gate.
“Buy, barter or trade the doodad away from my kids and they will be just bronze scrap within an hour. Steal one or worse, rob one away… That’s on the crook. The more violent or careless the act, the deeper my curse bites…”
“While there is no specific law against the manufacture of… curses..” The official’s hints and implications were starting to grate a little, Gary picked up the ‘tude a bit to move things forward.
“I couldn’t even give him a rash unless and until he made the decision that he wanted the thing, regardless of the consequences.” The craftsman snapped, as his shadow rippled with annoyance. “Even the desire isn’t enough, he had to act on it and take it. If she sold it to him willingly it would still stop working, but that’s it.”
“Perhaps if we were to go inside… to discuss this…” They said, standing ramrod straight, as a crowd of idle warriors and orphans slowly gathered to watch the show.
“Sure, drop the hood and come on in, we can have tea and a chat in private… like humans do…” He grinned and swept an inviting gesture. “Because we are all humans here, right, more or less? I just gotta see a face first.”
“My robes of office are required in my official duties.” They said in that neutral and indecipherable tone.
“Then we talk here, officially. Since I haven’t broken any laws…” He held up his hand in mocking helplessness.
“I’m not a witness, nor a victim, my only interest in this is that someone hurt my sister… What do you think is my role here?”
“Unregulated production and sale of dangerous objects is…” They began, in a very reasonable tone.
“Unregulated? I’m so regulated I can’t sell for coin. Get lost with that.” He turned and strolled inside, flipping a rude gesture over his shoulder. “I talk to faces and people, not rulebooks behind a mask. Tell your god to stop being a little bitch.”
The official attempted to follow the madman inside and stopped, right at the gate as though running into a wall.
“That’s just an illusion, you can push through the feeling if you insist…” Bannock said from beside the robed figure.
“Please don’t, not without a writ or warrant, he is already insufferable.”
“As you say knight Bannock… I trust you will… monitor the situation.” They said quietly.
“Or you could bend a little and drop the hood. This is a strange place, but not without its own sense of order and rules. Step inside and you may find more answers than you expect, brother.” Bannock smiled, just a little, nothing disorderly. “A little chaos adds spice to life I think.”
“Order commands that I avoid confrontations with this place and its denizens at all cost. Perhaps another time. Will I see you at temple this evening?” They asked, still very quietly, as the crowd dispersed.
“Only if my brother is going to be there… I never fancied the faceless robe look myself. You will find this place much more welcoming without the disguise.”
#
The tall, dark haired man worked quickly, while whistling a merry tune. Even the batlizards in the garden seemed to be chirping along, while the sound of the workman’s tools kept steady time.
“About two hours for the paint to dry, then you are all set.” He said in a cheerful, sing-song accent.
“We’ll be in town another day or two if you need anything. Knight Bannock picked up the bill for this. Look us up on the Adventure compound if you need any more work done.”
“Are you an… Adventurer?” He asked in utter confusion.
“Yeah… I am. Is that a problem?” He asked mildly, if not warmly. “I fail to see how that affects this job.”
“You misunderstand…” Jeremiah soothed the fellow with calming hand gestures, as one would a restive horse.
“Do you have access to one of those ‘stink rings’? Rumor says they come from the Adventure guild in Wheatford… suddenly they are here on the streets of Fallon…”
“Ahhh, that’s a problem… I have plenty of them but I keep bumping into legal problems. Orphan, you see... They aren’t legal for sale, not directly. They may come up for auction, or on the resale market… but I can’t sell them directly… not for coin.” He grinned at the prosperous looking home. “Coin, I bet you have plenty… but what do you have to trade?”
“What does that mean, boy?” He snapped. “Speak plain! I want to speak to the one that makes these things directly, not some grasping workman!”
“Good luck with that, the sorcerer who makes them is a mad recluse, who treats with spirits and the shades of the dead…” He grinned and walked away, still whistling.
“Careful, the scariest part about madmen, they look just like you and me.”
#
“Miss me with that guy next time, Bannock. That guy’s attitude sucked, when you said a house in the docklands, I assumed a regular person’s house… what’s some rich guy doing living there?”
Bannock just shrugged. “I offered to send someone to repair the damage, as is custom. I assumed you would give a fair rate and good service… was I incorrect?”
“Pay me what the job pays, if he has complaints I’ll make them right… I guess a copper half is the right bill.” He grumbled. “Rich people always suck.”
“Oh, you met Jeremiah…” Luna said with a smile. “He’s the head of the local Nightsoil guild, local bylaws say he has to live in the dock ward even after all these years.”
“That explains why he wants a stin… Aroma Band™. Is waste hauling really that profitable?”
He was at his workbench again, filing away at a tiny brass charm. He paused his own whistle to speak, while a nightingale on the windowsill sang along with his tapping toes.
“The guild just handles scheduling and logistics, they make the arrangements and do the administrative work…” Bannock supplied helpfully, while wondering what Liam was waving and shaking his head so violently over.
“The actual work gets contracted out to work parties of indentured criminals and orphans. Of course there are many more orphans than criminal indentures, usually.”
The oblivious knight finally stopped talking, after first Liam, then Dannyl tried to signal the young noble to shut up.
Luna smiled and picked up the thread as the musician kept working. “It’s a hereditary guild, passed from parent to child for centuries…” Luna carefully angled her head, so that the waving and distressed kids were in her blind spot and carried on.
“…he hasn't actually shoveled any dung since he became a journeyman. His father retired and promoted him to guild master that week, now he’s the master and only local member, as is the case in most towns with an orphanage…”
A long silence fell as Luna finished her ‘explanation’ of the Nightsoil guild’s activities in the community.
“So they have the crap removal contract with the city and they just sub it to the orphanage on the cheap and pocket the difference?” He asked very quietly.
“It’s more complex than that…” Liam began, before falling silent.
“Is it? Is it more complex than that?” Gary asked, just a little louder. “Or is it just another job that nobody wants, so they foist it on the nobodies, that nobody wants?”
He turned on Liam, looking put out. “Is this how it’s done in Wheatford?”
“No, we have an advanced sewer and waste system… we simply head out to the pits south of town a few times a month and thin the worms. It’s good target practice.” The warrior looked slightly embarrassed.
“That’s why so many of us are reluctant to eat groundworm and only ‘wild caught’ worm is legal for sale to the public.”
“Thanks, I hate it. We’re looking into that when we get home bro.” Gary said firmly. “If my kids are working to ‘earn their keep’, why are they dressed in tattered rags and eating turdworm that nobody else will touch?”
“Now, Gary…” Liam had his ‘let’s be reasonable’ face on, handsome rascal. The musician powered through the charm defense.
“I guess I’ll ask Becky about…” His snappy witticism ended with a yelp.
“Stop twisting yourself up, you have enough wedged in there already.” Luna said, with his ear wrapped around her knuckle.
“Heya! Hands off the lobes!” He grumbled. “That’s my money maker… Shai can’t resist it!”
She nearly threw his ear back at him with an expression of disgust. “Gods alone know what ear kinks you degenerates get up to…”
“Probably nothing as gross as what you are imagining… oh, now I’m imagining what you might be imagining! Sicko!”
#
After an hour or so, Luna and Khan called for a ‘cultivation break’ which was a break for everyone else. Liam pulled out the devil’s well-pump, while Khan strapped him into the gyro pope. They gave him a spin and set liam to emptying his mana pool.
“Gary…” Khan said, when the boy was good as dazed. “Summon one of your shadow people… toss one out.”
“Uhh, tha ‘snot how it works…” He replied, in woozy and delirious tones. “The magic’s in the music…” When he came back around, he finished his half baked thought.
“The magic’s in the music, but the music’s in me!”
A murky substance began to spin from the twirling, revolving boy. Formless goo ran like molasses down onto the floor solidifying into a sturdy, solid looking middle aged Gary, bald and wide featured, but almost NotGary.
“Satchmo! I hoped it would be you, lay it on us baby, hot music. That’s what we need…”
Rich, brassy mellow trumpet sounds blew from the figure, lively and bouncing off the walls. He blasted a storm of sound and Joy out of his horn, until the fourth measure, his F sharp landed as a Q flat, almost breaking the spell.
Instead of the shadow trumpet he played before, this was a complex tangle of brass and bronze tubes. The business end flared into a shining bell of spun brass.
Valves with mother of pearl buttons and a silver mouthpiece inscribed with flowering vines nestled among the tubes and levers.
“Whadda ya think Louis? It’s getting there.” Gary asked as he spun. His shadowy doppelganger shook his head and twiddled the last valve in dissatisfaction.
“Yeah, I think the bore on that one is a little sloppy. I have a guy for that. Otherwise?” Gary carried on while spinning, chatting with his silent self.
“That’s really unnerving for some reason… ok, for all the reasons.” Liam said as the conversation got animated.
“Yeah… we’ll try that when my guy gets here. Thanks Pops.” Gary’s eyes fluttered closed slowly as he drifted off to sleep, mostly upside down.
The spinning device wound to a stop and he sagged in the straps, wrung completely dry. His shadow friend vanished with a soft sighing whisper, after he gently placed the instrument he held on the workbench.
#
Yusef’s gifts were less useful for propelling the small ship, forcing them to slow at night. His Contracts with the spirits of Water and Air did provide perception abilities to cut through darkness and fog, in addition to a modest wind conjuration to drive the boat onward.
“Lighthouse.” He sang out, setting his guitar aside. “Port Fallon by dawn…”
Tallum lumbered up from below, barely squeezing through the hatch. He took a massive breath and sighed happily. “Thank you for your hospitality… but I can’t wait to sleep in a bed again.”
“Have you considered being smaller? It’s the latest fashion, Ivy is on trend and living her best life… perhaps Gary can enspell you into a more reasonable stature?” Yusef asked, taking his instrument up again and sprinkling chords over the water.
“Yusef, Ivy will be very cross if any part of him is shrunken. This one would be disappointed as well…” The busty trader purred.
“Oh! I hear Desi crying, gotta go check on him!” The big man tried to slip past her without rubbing up against anything… provocative. He bumbled right into Ivy, who was grinning and holding Esperanza’s hand.
“Dante has the boy… we need to take a… meeting in the captain’s quarters.” The blonde mage whispered. “Before we get near town Esperanza needs our help to… tidy up her cabin.”
“Uhh huh… last night the lock on her sea chest was stuck… before that she had a broken gimbal lamp…” He complained… but he didn’t hesitate to follow them back below.
“This one promises to reward your labors… handsomely.” Esperanza muttered huskily as the door closed.
#