Ch: 221 My Fool Usurps My Body
Bright and early, under the morning sun, Gary and Rolf squared off across their weapons in the garden. “I dunno Rolf… Angie’s pretty special… I was hoping for someone worthy of her…” His mad, ringing, singing staff was playing Rolf’s song this morning and it sucked.
The young knight’s blunt wooden sword struck at will, driving poor Gary all around the garden, in a frenzied, retreating ‘defense’. His lobster plates were cracked and split in several places, his left thigh plate had been battered until it was splintered and ragged. He never could keep that left leg in line…
“I don’t care what you want, Gary. Nor anyone else; if she’ll have me.” Rolf said fiercely… he relaxed his offense just a little.
“Gotcha!” Gary sang, as he surged forward, trying to overwhelm the smaller man, in a moment of distraction.
With a vicious thrust, the musician jammed his baton into Rolf’s lower abdomen.
The knight was still in chain mail, a fine protection against many threats; but against a mace, wielded by a larger opponent… It would be less effective than a well padded coat.
Gary smiled and stepped through to catch Rolf, once he was done folding neatly in half… and caught a backhanded cut to the chest from the knight’s wooden broadsword instead. Rolf smiled and shook his hauberk out, before resuming his assault.
“What did you do to this chain mail, Gary?” Rolf asked, while Gary desperately dodged and parried a series of feints, while catching Rolf’s sneaky attacks. That exchange left him smarting from a number of fresh bruises.
“It’s experimental… I threw a lot of stuff in there.” He mumbled, while sitting down on a bench for an impromptu break. It was going to be a minute before he could feel his left hand again.
“Mostly, I can use it as a training aid; by concentrating, I can get a sense of how you are balancing and moving your body as we fight…”
“If that is supposed to help you anticipate or counter me… it isn’t working.” Rolf said with a smile. “You are… acceptable, for a normal rank trooper. I would expect to see much more from you, based on our previous encounters.”
“Yeah… I can’t use my tricks on you. I made that armor and that would be… super cheating.” He said enigmatically.
“I spent a long time pretty badly crippled, so I’m still learning how to use my left side.” His sheepish grin was slightly embarrassed.
“You’re helping me with that. we’re kinda the same build and you move really well, so I’m kinda using you as my movement coach… Kinda.”
“Oh, well… that’s fine… I guess, weirdo.” Rolf mumbled. “You really are a lot to take, first thing in the morning!”
The smaller man hopped up off his garden bench with truly annoying vigor. “Come on, I want to see what this suit is really doing.” Rolf swapped his training sword for a short truncheon, a simple club of ironwood just around two feet long.
“You should press harder on the attack and give less ground on the defense. Don’t let your opponent move you around at will.”
Rolf’s lessons came with instructional handouts, in that he was handing out a beating, a highly instructive beating.
Gary pushed back hard, since his armor had mostly recovered during their break for coffee and first aid. The shorter man and his shorter weapon were proving a better match for the poor boy. He even managed to whomp Rolf a few times, with very limited success.
“You’re really liking that chainmail…” Gary wheezed, with a rag to his bleeding nose.
“It’s strange, you struck me a few times… Chain should not have provided much protection from a mace, especially that ridiculous, oversized battering ram.” He mused.
“Ohh yeah, I tried something new… the suit is kinda haunted, just a little. It has its own false Animus, which should cling to the living Animus of the wearer… it should sense and respond to physical attacks. Becky and I modeled it the way your living Animus and aura react to spiritual or magical attack, by clenching up and becoming rigid for a moment. On the offense, it relaxes… letting the mage strike out with spiritual forces…” Gary leaned close, peering at the burly knight. “Are you… taking notes?”
“Of course I am! I can’t deny your expertise in this area. Only a fool would not take notes.” He waved his pencil and sighed. “Go on.”
“Riiight…” He said, feeling weird suddenly. “So the suit responds the same way, if you vibe with it sufficiently. It will tense up to absorb impacts, the moment before the strike lands, then release, allowing greater freedom of movement when attacking or making affirmative or aggressive moves.”
“And you did this with your weird ghost magic, witchcraft.” the knight asked, curiously.
“Nope, normal enchantments, just an ass ton of them. Each ring in that suit is a single discrete magical construct, but also a piece of the whole item. None are essential to the overall construct, but each is unique.” He smiled proudly. “I might actually complete this one… it’s very promising.”
“Show me these ‘tricks’ of yours, please. I’m curious.” He said, standing back up for another round.
“You sure?” Gary asked, stretching and pulling his armor back from wherever it went.
“I trust you… and Tawny will destroy you if you do anything… unnatural.” He said with a wink.
“Whoa…” Becky whispered in Angie’s ear. “Did Rolf just wink? Is he… goofing and acting human?”
Angie wedged a sisterly and loving elbow into Becky’s ribs. “You just haven’t seen the real Rolf.”
The two young men squared off again, exchanged their formal bows and began. Rolf was back to the sword, with a light steel round shield as well. He dashed forward, moving very quickly for a man in medium armor… or for a man in just his skin for that matter.
Gary backpedaled in surprise and cut left, swinging his mace to trip the smaller man. He narrowly dodged a thrust at his navel, coming from the left as well. The dude was quick!
Nobody is quick enough to escape the groove… Gary was shaking and manipulating his baton, making it sing and wail, as his shadows slipped out to hide in the shrubberies.
Once the music began, Rolf felt those vague threads of Will, Animus and something strange, reach out to embrace him. It wasn’t an attack, nor an influence… it was a … Vibe. Some indefinable thing that moved him into step, making him a partner in the mad boy’s dance.
It felt like he might be able to resist it… but then it was gone, slipping through his defenses and vanishing in among his breathing, heartbeat and movements.
A jarring moment later, he realized he was not attacking Gary… The fool was toying with him, leaving him wide open to any assault the mad fellow might make. Too late Rolf realized he was prancing around like a stage mummer, aping swordsmanship to amuse the crowd. He blushed when he realized… Gary could have rung his skull like a bell at any time in the last few minutes, or snapped his leg, disarmed him, stove in his ribs...
“Now you see it…” Gary said happily, as his gift drained away. “Entrainment. It lets me sneakily gain a bit of control over your movements, breathing, even your heartbeat, if I really work at it. On stupid creatures, the undead, mechanical or magical constructs, it’s way more potent. Shhh! That’s my little secret.”
“It works the other way too… doesn’t it?” He whispered. “Bringing friendlies into step and creating synergy… like at the seaside village… How many can you… Entrain? at one time?”
“I really don’t know. If I have living musicians helping, especially my band… I just don’t know.” He thought for a moment. “With a big enough Marshall stack… I could move the world.”
He looked at the smiling lunatic again, with new eyes.
“I wonder whether you are dangerous, absurd, dangerously absurd or absurdly dangerous… My guess is yes to all of the above.”
“Angie and Becky said you were smart. I’m super dangerous… I’m a rebel…”
His guitar was out, striking a simple tune in the morning sun. His voice rang out and bounced Back from the city walls in the cool clear air.
I'm a rebel,
Soul rebel!
I'm a capturer,
Soul adventurer!
Soon the others joined in, ringing the music against the town walls, just for the joy of the morning.
See the morning sun,
On the hillside
Not living good,
Travel wide!
Bob Marley always set the day off on the good foot.
#
Wardco Engineering Partners Experimental Armor Mark Three, Enchanted construct. Incomplete, null, incomplete.
Effect, Adaptive/Ablative armor, resizing, threat anticipation, sensory snoop, aura bond, null.
Wearer bond: Rolf Belen: currently at sixty percent.
*Haunted* Warning, this construct is haunted. *Haunted*
“Very good… You really just slipped right in there, didn’t you…” Gary looked annoyed for a moment. “The girls kept saying that we would get along… if we didn’t kill each other first… I hate how often they’re right about stuff like that.”
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“It really is infuriating. My mother, Tawny and even Jennah said the same…” Rolf complained, while Gary peeled him out of the chain suit in the strangest way.
He winked at it, and the whole thing fell apart into individual rings, forming up as a long, winding strand of chain on the floor, spreading in loops and piles.
He gathered the end and started winding the long chain up around his elbow and hand, like a common rope.
“You could have done that at any time, couldn’t you?” Rolf asked quietly. “Made it fall off, leaving me in my underthings…”
“Sure… but that wouldn’t be funny, those underthings are pretty much basic cloth armor, nothing embarrassing there. Though, in truth… I made those too.” He snapped his fingers and the whole outfit came unstitched, collapsing into its component parts.
In a moment, Rolf stood in the workshop in nothing but a very brief set of undershorts, with tiny hearts on them.
“I hate you Gary.”
“Hey, that enchantment was Becky’s idea…” He grinned and began gathering up his components. “If I’m finishing this for you, I might as well get the arming suit done as well…”
Gary sat down at a well lit workbench, dumped the whole length of chain in a bin and began fishing around. He started pulling out individual links, seemingly at random, detaching each from the strand with a thought.
He used a strange buzzing object to do… something and dropped each one back in the bin.
While he worked, his shadow friends goofed off and made music all around. Gradually the pace of his movements began to accelerate, in time with the music, without losing the smooth, steady flow of his dancing hands.
“I can’t even see what you are doing there.” The knight complained, peering over his friend’s shoulder.
“Yeah, sorry… my gifts are all kinds of tangled together, so my crafting and conjuring gifts are all sneaky too. It’s been giving Amicus and Ivy fits for a while.” He half sang his words, swaying along to a lively instrumental.
“That’s why the music is always a part of your… whatever it is!” Rolf grinned ecstatically. “You’re like that suit of mail, a staggering number of tiny, individual parts, struggling to remain intact… that explains so much.”
“Shh… I gotta maintain some mysteries!” Gary whispered.
#
“The boys are down in the workshop making a mess of themselves, Shai is supervising, at least.” Becky murmured, when Khan and Luna showed up to escort her and Dannyl to go see Shaheen’s corpse and the much discussed pumpkin head.
“It really feels like we should bring him along…” Khan grumbled.
“He won’t enter the temples of War, Order or Craft unless it’s a feast day, or he has cult business with them. It’s one of his weird personal rules.” She mused on that as they walked. “I don’t think he’s even been on the steps of Order or War since he got here.”
“He’s been inside Healer and Joy… but only when invited in.” Dannyl muttered. “Is he scared of temples? That would be weird.”
“Really weird…” Becky agreed.
#
“Attack! Protect the boat!” She screamed wildly. The brave captain’s crewmen brandished their cutlasses and whooped with fury, as they defended Esperanza, floating in the bay below the house.
Long fleshy tentacles wound up the rigging, over the rails and flailed at her heroic crew as they fought off the eldritch creature, trying to seize the small riverboat and drag it below.
Long, writhing shadows pooled at their feet as they thundered up and down the deck, fending off the creeping tendrils. With acrobatic and graceful moves, they swung on lines, danced down railings and spars, leapt into slack sails, riding them into battle like slides at a kiddies park. All the while the shadows followed, guided, coached and led the warriors in their ferocious test of arms. Finally, Basil Rathbone, Errol Flynn and Burt Lancaster faded from Amy, Wilf and Rio’s shadows, as the tentacles withdrew in defeat.
Amy would die before she would admit it, but naptime was her favorite part of the afternoon. Lilith pulled her tentacles back below the surface, bubbling with joy in the gentle surf as her massive form began slowly emerging from the bay. At the touch of dry sand, her body began to shrink, slowly at first, then quickly, forming into a man sized ball of writhing, entangling pink tentacles. A moment later she wobbled onto shore, trying her new trick again.
“Nextime, I get to play captain… Rio can be the seamonster!” She burbled happily, in her watery, liquid voice. Eventually she got two long masses of translucent tentacles to behave and pretend to have bones. “I’m always impressed how you drylanders do this ‘walking’ thing so effortlessly. Legs are tricky…”
Her tough, scaly, green skin and bright pink, translucent tentacle limbs were almost convincingly humanoid. Her face was… improving, but still a ball of squirming pink tendrils that waved idly, as though under water, when she lost concentration.
The crowning glory was a conch shell hat, perched on her head at a jaunty angle, ornamented with a small fan of bright red coral. All in all she looked the very image of a cute, cheerful twelve year old… eldritch sea girl from a vast coral ocean world somewhere beyond the veil, in another reality.
“Wilf kinda remembers learning how to walk, he says it was really tricky.” Amy murmured happily, swinging her legs over the rail and kicking happily in the surf with Lilith. Wilf and Rio were out on the water, riding ‘Pona’s seahorsies around in the bay, chasing schools of glittering fishes among the shoals.
Lilith pulled herself up on the rail beside Amy and hugged her close, running a few hundred tendrils through her hair. “My parents say this is just a phase, that I’ll grow out of playing with humans…” She sighed sadly. “Grownups are dumb.”
“Did you sneak out?” Amy whispered in awe. “Into another dimension, to come play with us?”
“Duhh…” She shoulder bumped her smaller friend happily. “I’ve been practicing ‘walking’ at home, just to mess with them. You should see the look on their pseudopods…” She giggled a watery laugh. “For a prank, I told them I identify as a dryland primate now… Daddy nearly stung himself in shock when he heard.”
Amy hugged her eldritch sister and giggled, burying her face in the countless tentacles. “Aww… Naptime’s over…” Amy moaned, as she became translucent and yawned. “See ya soon!”
#
Amy Wilford and Rio grumbled when it was time to nap, then they were cranky when it was time to get up. “Maybe you guys are getting too old for afternoon naps…” Gary mumbled, while helping Wilf with his pants.
“Naptime’s for babies!” Amy sulked and pouted her hardest, making the case for continued naptime, without revealing their eldritch playtime secret to the grownups… or even Gary. “I’m never gonna nap again!” She fussed and grumbled pretty convincingly.
“I’m gonna stay awake forever!” Rio announced, while bouncing on the bed. The kid had a talent for the art of manipulating grownups, unlike Wilf.
“I wanna go back.” He mumbled and fussed, with his pants halfway back off.
Amy walked over, grabbed his ear and held on while Rio pulled Wilf’s pants back up and cinched them snug. “Come on Wilf… we lost this round.”
#
Liam had his work cut out for him on Esperanza and Bounty. Both vessels were loaded with a surprising quantity of some kind of dried seafood, in huge rolls four feet long and two feet around. Once the dry holds were empty he ducked into Eseperanza’s cold storage lockers and freezer hold.
The cold storage and stoves had been crafted, enchanted and installed by Gary, now they were full of even more seafood, the same stuff, thick slabs of frozen white flesh. Hundreds of pounds of it, in roughly ten pound slabs, a foot on each side and six inches thick.
With grim determination, he emptied out nearly two tons of dried, salted, frozen and brined monster squidleech. At least the stuff didn’t stink.
His unique bond with Gary and his madhouse had infected Liam’s own nascent gifts and made them… not silly, but distinctly unserious. Like his extra dimensional storage gift… the madman’s influence was probably why he’d developed it in the first place, but it manifested as the ability to tuck physical objects into a non dimensional space by touching them… unless someone was watching.
If he was observed, the object or objects would stubbornly linger, until he bought them in contact with the dimple in either of his butt cheeks. Thus, small objects would appear to vanish into his ass, or emerge from his backside, but only when it would be mildly embarrassing.
The strange phenomenon allowed him full access to Gary’s own linked gifts for storage and dimensions, as long as he was in the foolish musician’s house or extended yard.
More usefully and interestingly, he could reach into Shai’s roundhouse on the Adventure compound from the boat and slip all that seafood into her home. The orphans were going to be eating a lot of monster calamari and seafood hotpot this summer.
He came in from the boats, feeling like he’d expanded his storage ability. ‘Everything is cultivation.’ He thought to himself, enjoying the feeling he associated with a good workout, but in his soul, rather than his body.
Gary had the kids practicing choral music on the stage with Dio. The beak nosed, flamboyant musical shade had startling vocal skills and a love for acapella, despite being ‘The Master of Metal’ according to Gary.
Shai and Ivy were in the kitchen with lady Emma and baroness Lakshmi, chatting merrily and experimenting with squid, it kinda smelled good. Rolf and Angie were out riding, with Julius, Grace and her warband, enjoying an afternoon in the orchards.
The boat crew were all in the common room, relaxing as only sailors on leave can. Marcus, Nicolai and Dante were playing cards, while Yusef had his parlor guitar out, idly strumming in the far corner.
#
Becky, Dannyl, Khan and Luna strolled back in the early evening sunshine, enjoying the warmth after an afternoon in the morgue, examining the corpse and his gourd. “Journeyman Hertz… Skulking is a dangerous practice in Wheatford… we are all a little on edge lately.” Khan informed an unprepossessing and shady alley. “If Luna and I were not here, you might have heard your own doom riding down on you… ringing a cheery little bell all the way.”
Becky and Danny giggled nervously and kept watching the road ahead, listening for music.
“Gods… everyone in this town speaks like a carnival fortune teller.” He complained, as he stepped out of the shadows.
“To be clear, journeyman… I am master Khan, head of the Wheatford Adventure guild hall. This is journeyman Luna, my second and wife. Becky is the high priestess of Marduk, god of man’s Knowledge, Dannyl is her lifeguard… so sneaking around is unlikely to be successful or safe.”
“We’ve had some trouble with sneaky undead, slavers and demons.” Becky sang happily, running a long cascade of notes from her harp. “Some of our friends are a little jumpy and slightly murdery right now.”
“More wild rumors and crazy tales in this blasted town…” He complained softly, falling in step with the little group with a limp, helpless shrug. “Nothing makes sense here…”
Becky sighed and took charge, as was proper; a responsible adult was needed. “Hertz, go home, sleep on it. If you wanna learn the truth… The real truth, come to the inn at third bell and just talk to Gary… maybe have a bath. Don’t bring up Nesmith or the kids and you might learn some surprising things.”
They walked on, out the market gate and over the stone arched bridge disappearing into the strange house. Hertz lingered by the market gate, watching and thinking for a while, only returning to his quarters on the compound when sunset neared.
“Frustrating, isn’t it?” A voice asked from the dark, near the temple district gate. “Knowing that the answers are right there, but held by a madman.” A man in the black uniform of an Adventure specialist stepped out from the shadows, joining Hertz on his walk back to the Adventure guild.
“Wilkes, stealth and information specialist.” He said quietly. “You’ve been asking around about some friends of mine, they are under a lot of stress right now… and I’d like to make sure that no one gets hurt.”
“So your employer sent you to try and frighten me off?” Hertz demanded coldly.
“No, I’m off duty, this is purely in the interest of familial tranquility. They are mostly orphans in that house, we should always remember where our true loyalty lies… Brother. My team is billetted in the roundhouse by the baths. Join us for dinner… we’ll chat.”
Hertz scoffed quietly. “I should stroll into your barracks and what? Pull down my trews and wait for it? I expect at least a kiss before you try and slip it to me… Brother.”
“Is that how it is in Harrowdale? I’ve never visited the broken duchy before.” Wilkes chided him with a mocking, sing-song tone in his voice. “I assure you, no one will try and ‘slip it to you’ without an invitation. Duchess Sheng is quite strict on matters of consent… As is Wheatford duchy. Your backside will be safe with us.”
“Sheng’s broken toys?” He murmured in disbelief, looking his black clad peer up and down critically. “Where does she wind you up?”
“Not all wounds can be seen, brother… and we are proud to serve our lady, her grace the duchess Sheng.” He answered calmly. “I have been her eyes and ears for fifteen years now; never have I been asked to do anything of which I would be ashamed. Not once…” He smiled coldly at the younger man. “Can you say the same of your career?”
Wilkes smiled and continued walking along, slowly outpacing Hertz. “Join us for dinner if you want a little insight into what you are toying with… There are people I and my brothers and sisters care deeply for, lodging at that inn.”
#
That evening, as the sun finally dipped down among the mountains, Wendel was in the garden practicing his juggling, under the instruction of a young woman from the cult of Joy. Myrna Derring was a strict instructor, but he was already seeing improvement in the problem.
“Hmm…” She made her thoughtful noise a gentle little melody, accompanied on the exquisite violin she was playing.
“I see what you are doing wrong now… your left hand is overcompensating… slow down, go back to contact juggling with your left hand for a while.” She made a few notes in a little book, before taking her instrument back up.
“We’ll have the boy craft a weighted glove to balance the problem out… you should be able to resume sword practice in a day or two.”
“Thank you lady Derring.” He murmured, bowing deeply. “I am honestly itching to get a sword back in my hand…”
“Not until lady Trelawny, her grace and I approve… young man!” She snapped forcefully at the very large warrior with the gleaming bronze left hand and forearm.
“If you overexert yourself, you might tear your elbow or shoulder apart… those muscles need to re-awaken and grow stronger…” She shook her head in disbelief. “Metal arms… what next in this mad place?”
#
Hertz paused at the garden gate, a tiny woman in green sleeveless robes was biting the nose off of a huge man with a gleaming, bronze armored left arm, shining brightly in the last rays of the evening sun.
The tiny priestess turned her fierce glare on him as he walked up, hood lowered to reveal his face as instructed by the mysterious Wilkes. “I will take my leave, since your guest has arrived…” She looked him up and down, as if wondering what color of grave shroud might suit his skin tone.
“Good evening, journeyman Hertz… I hope you find it an instructive one.” She snapped her violin case closed and marched past him with a swishing of silk robes.
When the priestess was long gone, the metal gauntleted man grinned sheepishly. “She can’t stand the musician… cause he’s a commoner to whom she owes a great debt.”
He smiled even more widely. “Yet the goddess Joy loves him, second only to Otho…”
“More madness and tall tales? Is that what I was brought here for?” He grumbled sourly.
“Yes, actually.” The man said calmly. “Madness and tall tales are at the heart of the matter…” He was fidgeting with his armored gauntlet, carefully unbuckling it for removal.
“I’m Wendel, Adventurer in duchess Sheng’s personal guard… your, ‘broken toys’.” He slipped his gauntlet off and carefully settled it in a small bronze mounted, black lacquered coffin. With a start, Hertz realized there was no gauntlet; The big man’s left arm ended just a few inches from his elbow, terminating in an embroidered black silk cap with intricate bone buttons at the cuff.
“In this town, fairy tales and wishes can come true…” The big man mumbled as he flipped the tiny coffin over with his single hand and opened the other lid.
With care, almost reverence, he removed another gauntlet… this one in a deep red and amber wood, mounted with bone and shell ornaments at the knuckles and wrist. He slipped the thing over his black clad stump and smiled, as the hand twitched, flexed and became an almost living thing.
“Come inside, meet the other ‘toy soldiers’.”
#