ToL » The Chronicles of Anything » Chapter 17 - Saga 3, Anything’s Fate

Chapter 17 - Saga 3, Anything’s Fate

Intricacies

*

[written by Acid_Flux]

Acid brushed off a few specks of dirt.

“Now, where were we?”

…

Acid_Flux flexed his muscled hands and furrowed his brow, as he once again turned his attention to Archer’s question. How best to handle this situation?

With a thoughtful glimmer in his eyes, he spoke carefully. “We cannot endanger the rest of the Fellowship with the possible misdirection and sabotage of an infiltrator hanging over our heads. Therefore, we must take action to reveal his identity. I have my own suspicions, but it would be… undiplomatic to act upon them without proof. As you know, I am most fastidious about requiring proof before I declare my opinions to be actual facts. In fact, I recall one such instance with a…”

Archer grumbled quietly, yet deeply in his throat. Acid immediately realized the troglodyte was beginning to lose patience. This was not the time for the NoThRoG’s usual lengthy philosophical ramblings.

“Ahem, as I was saying, we need to devise a plan to help reveal the infiltrator’s true identity. Therefore, we must elicit the opinions of the Fellowship, and listen most carefully to their words and observe their mannerisms. By this, we will gain insight into their true motivations. The infiltrator will undoubtedly reveal himself, either by suggesting a course of action that endangers our mission, or by acting in an uncharacteristic manner. I have not yet ruled out the possibility of a doppelganger or simulacrum of some sorts. I advise that we be prepared to strike swiftly and surely if we discover the traitor.”

Acid narrowed his eyes at Archer. “However, that is merely a tactical ploy to solve one problem. The other issue at hand is our next course of action, whether we identify the infiltrator or not. Regardless of the Fellowship’s suggestion, we should commit to a course of action. That course should be set for the Realm of Other Games. If there truly is a conspiracy that threatens both our realms, then those noble souls deserve the opportunity to defend themselves, just as we. Perhaps AussieScum can add his strength to our own.” The noble NoThRoG sighed deeply. “I have a cold feeling around my soul that when the final battle comes, we’ll need every warrior of stout heart and strong arm to aid in our quest, lest we all fall in defeat.”

[/written by Acid_Flux]

Archer offered a slow, solemn, contemplative nod in response. The gravity of the situation was only bearing on him more and more as the quest went on, the faint glimmer of hope ever receding in the distance. He sighed, seeming weary of the whole affair. “I appreciate your input, NoThRoG. I fear that you are correct in more ways than we know. We shall make our way to Other Games, and keep a sharp awareness along the path. Surely we’ll figure this traitor out by then. On those two purposes, we’ll set our minds to task.”

The Troglodyte managed a slight smile at this last bit, confident, secure. He then motioned DarkGuardian over, Acid_Flux guessing to enlighten him now upon the finer details discussed.

The trusted dwarf began to trot over, but before arriving, Archer fell to one knee with a heavy groan, DG quickening his pace and Acid already helping the fallen hero to his feet. “Archer?”

The leader of the New Fellowship frowned, greatly disturbed, wincing at… pain. He then grinned in mock assuredness, “There was a day when I could break boulders with my face without any ill effects. Now, I’m afraid, as Anything weakens, so do I… its fall may yet mark my own…”

His two companions raised him back up, each looking to the other in grave concern. Archer brushed himself off, also brushing off their further assistance as he went off to sit alone, to collect himself, as he flexed his massive arm in question. Flux began to enlighten DGuard as to their recent discussions, but even in the midst of their talk, there was a bellow nearby, as from something in a rage.

They turned to the source, eyes widening at the sight they beheld. A darkly-armored being had just kicked Archer to the ground, clearly crazed in a powerful anger of some sort. “You! You, the valiant leader of this party, thou who’d sooner despair than visit me in Deverenia, utterly forgetting me, ignoring me and my potential! Oh, what might I’d hold as an ally, but you’d sooner, nay, rather wave me aside than merely so much as acknowledge my existence! Well acknowledge it now, filthy Trog son of a wench!”

DarkGuardian shook his head, recognizing the seemingly murky-minded fellow as Ghed-Jennar. YOYOY only regretted that he wasn’t fully aware of how Ghed was portrayed, er, what abilities and weapons he had and such. Yeah.

Acid Flux was already drawing his plasma pistols as Jennar’s sword rose, fully ready to thrust down into Archer’s throat. But the Dev wouldn’t have the chance, as the sharp-shooter began cooking off round after round of sizzling death.

Each bolt, however, passed right through Ghed, who was now cackling. “Ah, the Fellowship of legend, never having encountered an astral being? I shall slay you next, greenflesh.”

By now the rest of the New Fellowship had been roused to attention, barely able to fathom what was happening, and Archer’s newly-revealed vulnerability, as they gasped, the blade having been dropped.

The glowing edge of sheer massacre came into contact with the Trog’s neck, and – stopped. It froze, stricken still as if having encountered a thick steel plate. Archer frowned, raising an eyebrow at his attacker, whose fearsome jaw had dropped in horror. The one lying on his back chuckled, grabbing the blade in one hand, easily rising to his feet, now dwarfing his intended assassin and smiling in delight.

He gripped Ghed’s leg with both hands and neatly snapped it in a single swift motion, GJ screaming in agony, even the Fellowship wincing in empathy. They could barely bear to watch as Archer conducted a symphony of torturous assault, not content to slay the vile thing, just toying with him, laughing at his untold pain, even as odd specks of blood spattered his enormous nose, as if the miniscule notes to accompany his grand masterpiece. He merely sniffed them up, driven to further heights of bloodlust, now holding his foe by the ankles and neatly whipping him about, repeatedly pounding his face onto a convenient boulder nearby, the cries of pain soon reduced to wet gurgles, the flailing of desperate escape now reduced to limp languishing.

Archer giggled in delight as he flicked the battered body aside, completely unfazed. He took a step toward the Fellowship, half of them taking a step back in response. “Well, I certainly feel better now!”

As if in direct response, something ripped through the air, Advocate deftly catching it in his wing, gently smiling as the object was revealed to be a piece of mail. He tossed it to Archer, who eagerly tore it open, soon reading what appeared to be a long letter.

While the others waited for his response, DarkKnightZach got bored, so he killed General_Lund a few times for kicks.

Then Archer was finished, laughing heartily. “Ah, no wonder I’ve found new strength! I’m a Mod again! I mean, I’m a Mod in addition to, or, er… anyway, I’m a Mod in Other Games now! Haha!”

The Trog tossed the letter aside, gleefully jumping up and down in a power-mad dance of pleasure, each impact with the ground resulting in slight shockwaves. The others frowned, each eerily recognizing Archer’s fit of headstrong might, appearing to all as a tendency towards an eternal thirst for being the one, the only, the strong. In irony, some feared this to be his singular weakness.

Acid and Guardian eyed each other, wondering what this meant in relation to the recent talks and suspicions and plans and such. Archer began to settle down, adding “And MatB’s helping out in Anything, along with GreenDestiny! It’ll be better in no time!”

Acid_Flux narrowed his gaze towards Archer, choosing his words carefully. “Have you forgotten why we ever set out in the first place? Have you misplaced the memories of what your very own eyes had seen before we left? Archer, I’m afraid we can’t immediately take this as good news, as it may prove to be an omen of doom. Think, Archer. The timing is too coincidental, too convenient. Anything is corroding, its fate set in motion by a power even greater than yours. I fear this is only a distraction. We know they are aware of our mission, our quest, our journey. I think they are seeking to distract us, bog us down. Don’t let this newfound power blind you, Trog.”

Archer’s grin faded as he seemed to sincerely consider these words, in the meantime YOYOY gripping his head and falling to the ground, grumbling as if from a headache, chanting “Too much! I can’t keep up! It’s all too complicated! I don’t know a thing anymore! A single wretched thing! Where’s the sense of it all? When will this end?!? Ack~!”

He then began frantically scribbling in one of his journals, his quill scratching at a rapid pace, inkwell depleting every passing moment.

CardinalFang interrupted, “Hey, stop it! Toughen up, kid. You’ll somehow get us all killed, writing like that. It’s unhealthy.” He then beamed a thoroughly whitened smile and stood tall, hands behind his back to emphasize his tux, as if to prove a point.

DarkGuardian gasped in sudden recognition of CFang’s words, turning to YOYOY. “You will kill us all, won’t you?” The dwarf laughed. “It makes sense now, really. You’re the snitch. Who else would bother with so much mindless writing, penning a new letter to your superior every time our position changes? Admit it! You’re a writing fool!”

YOYOY suddenly stood firm. “What are you talking about? Why would I have anything to do with the fall of Anything? Without Anything, I’m nothing! … Mostly nothing, anyway. Seriously though, that doesn’t make any-“

A chariot drilled YOYOY, sprawling him across the grass and dirt. But, miraculously, he was just fine, sufficing to grab his club, hop up, and give a thorough beating to the perpetrator, who was actually running away. When the writer caught up, he popped open the driver’s skull like a powerfully-stomped watermelon, and didn’t stop there. ShadowStar, feeling like a responsible Mod, had to restrain him and bring him back to the group, muttering something about them all losing their nerves.

Acid_Flux sighed, turning to Advocate_of_Lycanthrope. “Is it possible that YOYOY’s been writing letters to whoever’s behind this, updating them as to our position, allowing for our skirmishes thus far?”

AOL considered the idea. “I don’t believe he has necessary means to do that on his own. However…” At this, the penguin boy began rifling through his massive inventory of postal equipment, soon his expression falling. “… However, I am lacking a few articles of post, that would account for the necessary amount of communication…”

All eyes turned toward YOYOY, accusatory. He hastily offered defense, “I know I’m innocent, surely that can be proved. Advocate, why don’t you enlighten us as to what exactly has been taken?”

Rough discussion ensued, accusations thrown back and forth, theories made on the fly with each passing comment, AOL remaining silent as he focused on the task of figuring out what exactly he was missing. Drexlin took a drink. Soon the penguin was done, yelling to get everyone’s attention. He gave a count of each missing item, among them several blank pages for scripting. At this, several were furious, few specifically towards YOYOY, until he pointed out that it wouldn’t be necessary for him to take any pages, as he had enough of his own with which to fashion text. This was met with silent consideration by the group, until Acid pointed out that he could’ve taken them with that very fact in mind ready for his defense. Thus, the arguing persisted, the Fellowship soon realizing it was impossible to prove his guilt, or, indeed, his lack thereof.

Ter-Soth, being of light and reason, formerly perfectly silent and still as usual, sighed, finally finding it necessary to add his own bit. “AOL, you also mentioned a missing quill on your list. Surely, even if YOYOY had taken the pages, he wouldn’t take a pen. And, even if he did, he’d still possess it. The rest of the stuff, envelopes for instance, would only leave their absence, as it would’ve been sent to whoever was operating toward the destruction of Anything. But the quill would still be in possession of whoever’s been participating in the betraying correspondence. Fortunately for us, the dirty little snitch wasn’t reasonable enough to return the quill to AOL’s part after each incriminating letter. So, right now, I propose we do a complete inventory of each member of our New Fellowship, no little thing withstanding. If we act immediately, it simply follows that whoever posses the quill is the snitch, if I’m not mistaken. And I don’t believe I am.”

Everyone in Ter-Soth’s presence settled down, considering his words and reasoning, no one daring to offer opposition, as that’d practically be a confession of guilt. The plan seemed almost completely foolproof, any flaws in it were not immediately evident. The theory was sound.

Archer grinned toothily. “Alright Ter-Soth, let’s do it. I’m asking each of you to empty yourself of all your possessions. I’ll even do this myself, to completely satisfy the search. If the quill is found, we’ll have our snitch and… deal with him accordingly. If not, we’ll figure out his identity by other means, this investigation continuing until he comes forward. Let’s get to it.”

And so it began, some of them more eager than others, emptying their sacks and packs and bags. They did it methodically, each being inspected by each other, shifty eyes abounding in the closeness, each nodding in satisfaction at each item, accountability presiding supreme, Archer chiefly inspecting, but each of course eager to find the double-crosser himself.

The Troglodyte smiled, feeling confident, at ease. Perhaps hope was at hand after all. Something told him this would be over as suddenly as it seemed to begin, possibly very soon. Finally, something seemed to be happening in their favor, something that whispered of promise.

Even as they unloaded their assorted instruments, another penguin rapidly flew overhead and whipped a letter at Advocate, who again neatly caught it. Before he could even begin to examine it, Archer pointed a finger, grabbing everyone’s attention.

“Don’t open that until we’re finished.”

AOL opened his beak to oppose, but could find no real reason. Fair enough.

But before setting the letter aside, he noticed that the return address read as AussieScum, from Other Games.

© Eric Bailey

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