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Eldermark 2 - Saga 6, Eldermark

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The Chronicles of Anything – Eldermark, 2

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The druidic overlord crossed his arms, eyes and lips thinning in a bit of defensive posturing. He recognized the approaching figure from far away indeed, though he waited until a closer approach to show so.

“You are not as welcome here as you may believe, Exile.”

The incoming being remained silent as he continued walking towards the gate to Anything, until stopping mere feet from DruidOverlord, the Mod currently assigned to border duty. The newcomer grinned, sliding a hand down his own side until it came across the smooth surface of a topaz dagger, caressing it among the others. He then spoke.

“Greetings, Overlord. Fortunately for myself, a degree of welcome is not a prerequisite for forthwith entry into yonder realm. That is, theoretical: Outside of outright banning, correct?”

DO rolled his eyes before offering his response.

“Yes, you may enter. I just don’t have to like you.”

The dagger-wielder grinned again before speaking.

“Then may every exception to mutual exclusivity be so conducive to my fortunes, fair Moderator. You have my erstwhile gratitude.”

The gate behind DruidOverlord opened, and the Medusan Exile soon entered into the realm of Anything, each of his steps kicking up a fresh cloud of sandy dust in his wake.

_*

SleepyBoy yawned and leaned against the wall of the gaming parlor, groaning as he shifted into what he would hope to be a more comfortable position. He then frowned, however, as he felt that neat little feeling where you just know someone is staring at you.

He opened his eyes and was slightly startled, as he stared back into the eyes of… some form of mammalian creature.

“Hi there!”

The fox-like being beamed SleepyBoy a wide smile. The Boy raised an eyebrow.

“Um, hey.”

“I heard you’re a card player.”

Tailz began shuffling a deck of cards, a well-worn deck he was fond of, and usually had on hand, carrying around wherever he went.

“Uh, yeah, but, kid, I’m a pro. You don’t want to play with me. I play for money now. I shouldn’t even be here.”

MDTailz chuckled, crossing his legs atop the table, his bright red sneakers gleaming in the fanciful lighting.

“So you won’t play unless it’s for money?”

Sleepy nodded, slowly and dramatically.

“That’s right.”

Young Tailz leaned in, blinking his big boyish eyes and bursting SleepyBoy’s personal space bubble before responding.

“Is everything about money now? I mean, do you ever just… have fun? For free?”

Sleepy squirmed uncomfortably under the all-too-close gaze.

“Yes. Sometimes. But not with cards.”

“But—“

“Bye.”

Tailz shrugged, turned, and left, trotting out the door.

SleepyBoy shrugged, turned over, and yawned one last time before settling in for a nap. He even drooled, slightly, onto his pillow familiar. I mean, familiar pillow.

_*

“Kill General Lund.”

DarkKnightZach shoved the doors open, bursting out of the cathedral and into a brisk walk. His hands were in clenched fists, teeth grit, eyes ablaze with the effort to hold back a maniacal sort of madness.

“Kill General Lund.”

The Deverenian knight turned in the courtyard, stomping various manners of plants underfoot. His armor moved like water, with the grace of experience and outright skill.

“Kill General Lund.”

The elite swordsman duelist rapidly drew his sword and swung it simply downward, severing the rusty iron latch of the gate. This ancient gate swung open with an eerie creaking, Zach already marching through its opening before its swinging finished.

“Kill General Lund.”

He glanced upward, eyeing the clouds above and wondering if it would soon rain. It appeared as though a storm may be brewing. Then again, he thought, sometimes he felt as if there were always, always a storm brewing on the horizon.

“Kill General Lund.”

He sighed. He closed his eyes. He breathed deeply and methodically. He pushed aside all thought, all flickers of emotional torment dwelling within.

“Kill General Lund.”

He growled, quitting the meditation and continuing the walk.

“Kill General Lund.”

Zach suddenly dove forward, tucking and rolling into a dirtward somersault. Within another portion of a second he was back on his feet, blade drawn. The motion had caused the cursed dodo to hop off of his shoulder, the bird now airborne and darting erratically about before settling on a nearby ivy-laden statue of some forgotten warrior from ages past.

“Kill General Lund.”

“I did, NirvanaTool. I did. And then I did again. I killed him a thousand times over. He is dead.”

“Kill General Lund.”

“I have done so, discarded remnant of an extinct species. I have fulfilled that mission.”

“Kill General Lund.”

“I know you can hear me. I know you are intelligent. Surely you are capable of reasoning with me, here.”

The winged wretch leaned his head to one side. Gently, he hopped aloft, and flapped over nearer to Zach, landing atop a partially hidden gravestone. The dastardly dodo eyed Zach intensely and intently, drawing a hissing breath before speaking in a low, dark tone.

“Reason has nothing to do with this, knight. I own your soul.”

The dark knight sheathed his weapon.

“But you own my soul from another time, a wholly different life. Then, I was consumed by my rage, I existed as nothing but the singular desire for vengeance. I have changed, NirvanaTool. The very world has changed around you. Can you not see? Will you not accept it? Will you not stop tormenting me?”

The bird leaped forward and thrust his twisted beak through the thin visor gap in Zach’s helmet. The knight cried out in pain and fell backward, clutching his face with armored hands. The bridge of his nose was splintered, blood softly dribbling from the wound. He stumbled about as the liquid seeped into his eyes, tripping over a stone and falling onto his back. He remained lying down and cried out once more, kicking and flailing, cursing and swearing, moaning and screaming.

The bird bobbed its head and spoke.

“You know nothing of torment, mortal. Do not dare forget that not all beings are granted such freedom to change.”

The blood soon mixed with tears.

_*

YOYOY turned one last corner and smiled at the sight of the Low-Key Lounge, its sign lazily hanging out front in a similar manner to the way those inside would be seated. He walked between the enchanted automatic doors and found a seat at the luxurious bar.

“Relaxant? Sedative?”

The barkeep smiled, as Y politely shook his head and waved the offer off. The tender shrugged and walked over to another patron. Almost silently, another man sat down next to the chronicler.

“Evening, Ter-Soth.”

“Hey.”

Together they sat, in their nondescript attire, and did little else. The silence was nearly awkward. YOY opened his mouth to broach a topic, but before he could do so Ter-Soth spun on his stool and extended his hand in one impossibly fast movement. The breeze from his motion wafted over the seated scribe before he noticed that Ter-Soth held a crossbow bolt in his hand, its tip mere inches from his forehead. The duo continued sitting in thoroughly unimpressed silence.

“I think someone just tried to kill you,” YOYOY offered with a smile. “Yeah.” Ter-Soth merely shrugged, then replied, “You alright?”

Again, the chronicler opened his mouth to speak, but before he could do so, someone fell through the ceiling. That is, behind the pair, a set of rafters and boards groaned before cracking loudly and splintering all about. A being wearing loose white robes fell through the resultant gap and landed with a ‘thud’ amidst wooden shards. All in the establishment turned silent for a moment – then resumed their conversation. YOYOY himself cleared his throat.

“What’d you say? Hm?” Ter-Soth nodded towards Y’s side, “You’ve been shot.”

The scribe frowned, then looked down, and, sure enough, spotted a bolt sticking out of his ribs. It had pierced his cloak and serendipitously wedged itself through a weak spot in his concealed light leather armor. He frowned, again, and placed his hand on the errant projectile, only to withdraw, wondering if it would be better to leave it there.

“Wounded?”

Still focused on the wound, it took Y a second to realize the voice was directed at him. He turned to its source, the radiantly robed being who had fallen through the ceiling.

“What?”

“You, are you wounded?”

“Uh, yeah. Apparently.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

The robed one then walked forward and shoved his hand onto the bolt, enclosing his fingers over the wound. YOYOY winced and sucked a breath of pain through his teeth, then exhaled in something resembling a gasp. The pain was completely gone, and the bolt was in the robed one’s hand.

“I’m a cleric, of Ebisu. Guess you’re lucky I dropped in.”

The priest chuckled and jokingly punched YOYOY in the shoulder. The chronicler did not return the laugh.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Funny, isn’t it?”

The Ebisuian cleric, YOYOY, and Ter-Soth each exchanged quizzical glances in a collective wondering of where this newest voice came from.

“I mean, here we are, sitting around, peacefully and quietly, and someone tries to kill you. But where are the Mods now? Hm? What are they so busy enforcing, exactly? You could die, and they wouldn’t care. But if I were to threaten your life myself, I would probably be banished for advocating an illegal activity.”

The threesome looked down to the end of the bar, spotting a seated thin elven rogue.

“I probably just made a watch list for saying too much.”

The elf shrugged, as the trio moved closer. The foursome exchanged cursory glances, now in a circle. The cleric was first to speak.

“Who are you?”

YOYOY and Ter-Soth responded, practically in unison, “Lesthios.”

“Right, yes, I am Lesthios. So, any of you gents have a funny feeling lately?”

Ter-Soth rolled his eyes, the Ebisuan cleric scooted closer in interest, and YOYOY sighed before speaking.

“There’s always a funny feeling in Anything. There’s always a conspiracy theory. There’s always an adventure to be had. Don’t freak out.”

Ter-Soth managed a gentle nod of agreement. The Ebusinian cleric scrunched his face up in an odd manner that no one was quite sure how to interpret, in terms of nonverbal communication dynamics. Lesthios shrugged and continued.

“Perhaps true, but I still insist it’s worth considering, and possibly worrying about nowadays. Any thoughts on the new Eldermark thing? Or the Advocate of Lycanthropes? Whatever happened to him, huh?”

Ter-Soth groaned, “He was banned. Everyone knows that.”

“But his case seems different.”

“Wait, how?”

They turned to YOYOY, Ter-Soth and Lesthios then facing each other before Lesthios nodded to Ter-Soth, who then answered Y.

“His banishment was unannounced and unexplained. Nobody’s seen him around for a while, so we assume he’s been banned, yet his penguins are still in flight, being used as couriers.“

“It’s just weird,” the Ebisuuni cleric said.

“Hm,” YOY considered.

“I’m a spaz!”

The quartet turned to lumpin. As they did so, YOYOY noticed a familiar-looking figure pass by the entryway. A very oddly familiar-looking figure, he thought.

“Um, I’m gonna go. You guys have fun. Or whatever.”

Y arose and headed outside to follow the figure.

_*

A ranger was lying on a rooftop, admiring the night sky. His hands were clasped behind his head, his feet crossed at the ankles. He spotted a shooting star, and spoke as if to it.

“Before you bring that katana blade down upon my helpless frame, consider this: I have been listening to your last forty footfalls, I smelled you before you were on the same rooftop as I, three of my senses can tell that your pulse is much quicker than my own, and I have been at the game of survival for a much longer time than you.”

The assailant, completely clothed in black, hesitated for a moment, holding a fine blade overhead with both hands. In this moment of hesitation, Aragorn rolled and stood, already having drawn a fine blade of his own. The Rider of Rohan grinned and spoke again.

“I have never fought a ninja before!”

“Smell this, strider.”

The ninja continued holding his sword straight up with one hand, the other now extended in front of him in a fist. Aragorn pivoted on a heel and stepped back, but was unable to block the blow that came next – a rather hard one, in the chest.

The impact knocked him off the roof to a rather harsh landing in the alley below, beside a dumpster. The ranger winced, quickly drawing a pellet from his belt and throwing it against the facing wall. The load exploded in a cloud of expanding smoke, hopefully shrouding the assassin’s vision.

The tactic seemed to work well enough, as the Rider was able to stumble into a nearby unpopular tavern. He collapsed into a booth, clutching his chest. His clothing was torn, ripped to shreds, in a diagonal pattern across his front. As he fumbled to find a healing salve among his holdings, he noticed the cuts across his flesh spelled “SECRECY.”

_*

Two men furiously worked with buckets to bail water out of a makeshift dinghy, in an effort to prevent it from sinking altogether before it reached the pier.

“There it is, the port of Anything. As I told you, the security is a bit less… existing, hereabouts, than at the other, more popular entrance into this fair realm.”

The pirate’s companion coughed.

“Yeah. I see. So, why did we come this way again? I mean, what do we have to hide?”

Captain Jack Sparrow smiled at the query.

“Because I’m a pirate.”

The traveler shook his head, a cat perched on his shoulder.

“But Siege911 is a pirate. He runs the Temple now, and still has ties to Anything. He was once a Mod there. I think he’s pirate-friendly.”

Jack grinned.

“Yes, he is pirate-friendly, but considering the current political atmosphere, the more proper question is, are Anythingers Siege-friendly?”

Traveler – nodded, understanding his point. They made a well-timed leap onto the pier as the last of their pitiful craft sank into the murky depths. Standing on the pier was Kelanor, who held a clipboard and spoke aloud.

“I am going to have to ask you two to log in again. Names, please?”

“Traveller. And this is Joey.”

At the sound of its name, the cat bounded off the traveler’s shoulder and began snuggling against Kelanor’s leg. The pirate, meanwhile, tugged at his hat and produced a coin, flipping it at the Mod.

“How about we forget the name?”

The coin lightly bounced off Kel’s shoulder and clinked to the ground below. The squire took a deep breath before speaking.

“How about we forget any ideas about bribing a Mod and give me your name, or you get to discover what a Moderator blade tastes like?”

The captain took a few steps closer to Kelanor, looking up at him, squinting.

“I’m Jack Sparrow. Savvy?”

The two former shipmates entered Anything, Joey trailing the traveller while Sparrow went off in search of a rum joint.

Kelanor’s Eldermark glimmered in the coast-side sun.

_*

“I do not wish to fight you.”

The Free Kingdoms paladin sheathed his great sword, assuming a neutral stance upon the grassy hillside. The green blades swayed in the swift breeze, the beautiful blue of the sky mottled by exceptionally puffy white clouds.

“Yet, if you don’t, you’ll die.”

The shadowy thing leapt forward at the lawful fighter with a shriek. The ever-grinning figure enveloped his merciful adversary, his own blackness covering the man’s body. The two now seemed fused, as the paladin lost his balance and began tumbling down the hill, the dark shadow forcing its ethereal form down his throat, into his lungs.

The freek began to violently wretch, digging a heel into the dirt and bending over. He gagged, grabbing at the blackness that stuck to him, even as the darkness laughed, still smiling somewhere within. The knight’s vision began to grow hazy, his chest burning and tightening.

A lightning bolt struck the entwined couple, severing their intimate connection. The dark mass flew down the hill’s slope, crying out in electrified agony. The good paladin spent a moment coughing before regaining his composure. Nearby stood the source of the lightning bolt, a mysterious Deverenian being, completely astral in appearance.

Many yards away stood a couple of observers.
“Shall we intervene?”
“No, dear. This is not our fight.”
“Not yet, you mean.”
“Perhaps. Let us watch and wait.”

_*

YOYOY practically ran through the automatic doorway into the street, looking both ways. He swore under his breath, not noticing the oddly familiar figure in either direction. He turned about and checked again, looking up to check the rooftops, then leaning to one side to peer into the window of the building across from the Low-Key Lounge.

Sunset was approaching, as mellow hues adorned the evening skies. The chronicler cursed and kicked a stone. He then froze, and looked over his shoulder. A penguin was flying in his direction, an envelope clasped in its beak. He turned towards the bird and extended a hand.

A vaguely robed figure jumped off the rooftop of the adjacent establishment, into the flight path of the mailbird. Before YOY could fully realize what was going on, the penguin crashed through a window to another building, one of its wings still spinning through the air, droplets of blood flinging from it.

The anonymous figure landed in precise fashion. The chronicler stared, and noticed it was the same familiar-looking person he had noticed earlier. In addition, he now noticed the being was holding a sword – a sword with a blade that glinted green.

“GreenDestiny?!”

A new, shadowy figure stepped out of a previously unnoticed alleyway. He was dressed in a sharp modern suit and held two gleaming pistols, each clicking a round into firing position. He spoke in a low, yet authoritative tone.

“Roy, sheathe your weapon.”

Roy, the Odd, paid no heed to the command. His face was completely hidden by the redundant robing as he instead responded to YOYOY.

“You should know that I no longer go by that name. It is the last shackle of nefarious institutionalization. Just call me Roy, now. These are different times.”

“Roy, sheathe your weapon.”

YOYOY stood still, barely bold enough to breathe as he noticed the barrel of one of the guns leveled at himself. The other remained locked on Roy’s body.

“YOYOY, do not open the envelope. Leave it in the beak of the dead bird. Whatever else you do, do not open the envelope.”

“Roy, I don’t want to shoot you. Sheathe your weapon.”

Roytheodd lowered the blade, crouching slightly.

“Fang, you know I could take you, Mod or not. I will sheathe my weapon when you promise me you will leave me alone afterward. I don’t want any pursuit, I don’t want any problems, I just want to deliver a personal letter to YOYOY.”

“Then you also know I will have to inspect the letter, given the circumstances.”

“No, here’s the catch. You will not be concerned with the letter. You will leave YOYOY alone as well. He will get my letter, I will sheathe my weapon and leave, and you will leave also. We will go our separate ways, and have no problems. That’s the deal. Nobody wants this to get messy.”

CardinalFang turned to the frozen YOYOY. In his eyes was a look that the chronicler had not seen in years, and was not sure how to take. The tie Fang wore began to morph into a chestplate as he turned back to Roy, bearing both weapons on him now.

“Fine. I don’t even know why I’m doing this, or telling you that I don’t even know why I’m doing this. But give him the letter and go. You’re right about one thing, nobody wants this to get messy.”

Roy flung an envelope at YOYOY, who caught it as it spun through the air. Roy then sheathed his sword, turn, and briskly jogged away. CardinalFang lowered his weapons and sighed deeply.

“It’s good to see you, YOYOY.”

Cfang then left the scene as well.

Y stood there for a moment, staring at the envelope in his hand. There was no lettering on its outside, and it had a security pattern to prevent seeing its contents. He opened it, and shook a note out. It read:

“I would have been punished, had a I not cut a deal to relinquish my Modhood voluntarily and keep quiet. I’ve already said too much. The Advocate knows even more than I do, which is why he was imprisoned. Not banned and allowed to roam elsewhere, but imprisoned. If you want to know more, find him. I don’t know where he’s being held, but his penguins must still have a telepathic connection with him. I left the one-winged bird alive, it should know where Advocate’s cell is, if you can figure out how to get that information from it. Their telepathy is only incoming, not outgoing, so you’ll have to find another telepath or figure out another method. You’ll probably be watched. The envelope in the bird’s beak is supposed to inform you that you’ve been selected to receive an Eldermark. Don’t even open it. I suggest you make some powerful friends, and quickly. Form a proper party for finding Advocate, yet trust no one.”

YOYOY furrowed his brow and stuffed the letter into a pocket as he whispered to the eve, “Why me?”

“Huh?”

Y, startled, turned to his left – and looked down, before noticing a fox-like creature standing beside him in bright red tennis shoes.

“Excuse me?”

“You said, “Why me?” so I said, “Huh?” and then you asked me to excuse you.”

“Kid, I don’t – … Why do you have two tails?”

MDTailz began to explain (something about running fast and being able to fly), but YOYOY was distracted the second he heard a rustling behind the broken window of the nearby building the penguin crashed into.

_*

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