Lidarion: Chapter 11

The line at the front gates of Lidarion city seemed to stretch on for miles. In the time since Brandon’s death the war had officially ended and there were hundreds if not thousands of people looking to transition back to their peacetime lives as quickly as possible. They had gotten in line sometime in mid-morning and shared lunch together as they moved forward little by little. They traded what news they had with the people ahead of and behind them in line and none of them missed the large number of families and other travelers leaving the city throughout the day.

It was late afternoon by the time they arrived at the front gate. The guards looked each of them over, glancing in their saddlebags and one of the guards took a nice long look at Trent deciding not to make anything of it. The guards signaled for the gate to open and the giant doors opened letting Trent and Lisa into the western most side of the central market district. Lisa was immediately stunned by the level activity, the density of the buildings. She couldn’t help but browse each of the road side carts piled high with fresh fruits, sweet breads, low quality jewelry and trinkets that lined the cobblestone street.

They walked by a bakery that smelled of countable flavors of fresh bread. Lisa turned to Trent. “Hey, are you hungry?” She asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, but trust me, we’re going to have dinner in the best restaurant in Lidarion.”

Lisa followed him as he snaked through the crowd. “If it’s still open.” She replied.

Trent laughed. “If Lidarion is still here, Lisa’s Bar is still here.” He took a turn off the central street and the crowd thinned greatly.

“You really loved growing up here didn’t you?” She asked.

He nodded. “It’s the greatest city on the planet, why wouldn’t I love it here?” He asked.

Lisa shrugged her shoulders. “Why haven’t you been back in almost fifteen years?” She asked.

Trent turned down another street and Lisa followed him. “Remember that whole war thing we just finished fighting?” He asked.

She shook her head. “You’ve had the same amount of time off as we did, we were able to get married and would have made it here if we hadn’t just gotten married. Not to mention I had to beg you to come with me even AFTER the war ended…So what happened?” She finally asked.

Trent nearly runs up to a very large building, He stops in front of the door, takes a deep breath and then opens the door to the Bar.

The restaurant is busy. There are more tables and chairs in the room than would be casually comfortable to maneuver around and all but one table are occupied by people eating, drinking, and socializing. A middle aged woman is maneuvering in between the tables so efficiently they might as well not even be there. She picks up empty glasses, drops of bread and fresh drinks, all the while she holds conversations with multiple conversations.

The door closes behind Trent and Lisa which grabs the woman’s attention. “Well I’ll be a red headed step child. Trent Coppersmith has finally returned.”

The entire establishment seems to freeze. Alex weaves around the tables toward Trent and Lisa. Trent smiles nervously. “Hey Alex, It’s been a long time.” He says.

She clears the tables and stops in front of him. “Over a decade.” She paused and stared him down as the entire establishment holds its breath. 

The XP: Chapter 11

Volnado is flanked by Wainwright and Shizaboom. Torcano moves to the front of the group. “I thought we were avoiding each other.” He asked.

Volnado smiled. ‘This is a special occasion.”

“Do tell.” Toracano requested.

“You violated the terms of your Game Master Employment contract.” Volnado accused. Torcano looks like he just got slapped. “You have repeatedly used your abilities and powers to grant advantages and favors to players that they haven’t earned. Mainly the players standing behind you.” 

Volnado gestured to the rest of the group.

Shizaboom took half a step forward. “After revie –“ Volnado held up his hand to silence Shizaboom. 

Shizaboom not only went silent but stepped back a full step.

Volnado waited a moment, dropped his hand and then continued. “After reviewing your activity logs the management team has decided to remove your status as a Game Master and deactivate your account.”

The entire group is shocked. Torcano moves to rebut but Volnado waves his hand and Torcano disappears. “Good bye brother.”

Bob gets into Volnado’s face. “What the hell is your problem Volnado?”

Volnado glares down at Bob. “Funny, I thought you of all people would have enjoyed watching that.”

“I didn’t want him turning into what you’ve clearly become.” Bob shot back.

The two groups have gathered a bit of a crowd. Volnado shook his head. “Torcano was never going to be as good at this as I am. It was only out of respect for our connection that I let him get away with as much as he did. He never really cared about the game, at least, not like we do Bob. He was always more concerned with Impressing his friends. And now without him I suspect your little club is lost, unable to compete. What will you do without a fifth member?”

A horn sounds and the crowd gathering turns their attention to the opening ceremonies of the clan wars. Volnado turns and moves forward through the crowd, the other two Game Master’s in tow. The gang looks at each other in complete shock.

Stygian clenches his fist. “Damn it.”

Blackout shakes his head. “There has to be someone who hasn’t joined a clan yet.”

“Any idea how we find them in the next ten minutes?” Bob asked.

The group watches the opening ceremonies, a huge digital fireworks show is lighting up the sky. The group is looking up and the light reflects off their faces.

“Well one thing is clear.” Trart says.

“What’s that?” Stygian asks?

“Begun the Clan Wars have.” Trart smiles at his own joke. Bob slaps him upside the back of his head. “Ow, right, sorry…sorry.” Trart apologized.

University of Console Heroics: Chapter 11

Banister is handing back another stack of papers. His silence hangs like a weight around the neck of the room. Out of papers he grabs his satchel and leaves the room without a word. Only when the door closes solidly behind him do the students check the grades on their papers. Sanders turns his paper over to find another note on the first page. The title of his paper is “An analysis of series plot structure, the destruction of artistic ingenuity and creative expression: A history of the Mario Brothers.” Banisters note is in big bold red sharpie pen. “All right then, see me after class.” Sanders flips the paper face down.

Every stack of paper on Banister’s desk is different than the ones that were on his desk during the first meeting he had with Sanders. And yet the defensive castle wall looks almost exactly the same. Sanders walks into his office without knocking. Banister doesn’t even look up from the essay he is grading.

“Was that your idea of a joke?” He asked.

Sanders dropped into the empty chair on his side of the desk and shook his head. “Not really. It just sounded like an interesting hypothesis.” He explained.

Banister looked up from his work and slowly put his red pend down. “And this had nothing to do with you trying to pry into my life?” He asked skeptically.

Sanders smiled and shook his head again. “Have you always been this self-centered? I didn’t write the paper to get your attention. If I had I would have written something much more eye catching.” His smile betrayed a secret but Banister couldn’t figure out which.

“Such as?” Banister asked.

Sanders thought about it for a second, then made up his mind. “Do you really want to know? Or are you just hoping I’ll give you a decent reason to kick me out of your office?” he challenged.

Banister’s hostility cracked slightly. “After you worked so hard to get here?” He started. “That would be rude.” He finished.

“I didn’t write the paper to get your attention.” Sanders groaned.

Banister smiled. “I heard you the first time.” He confirmed, picking his pen up and getting back to grading essays.

Sanders takes a moment to glance around the tiny office. “Hey, how come you don’t have any photos of family or friends?” In my experience most professors are super sentimental.”

Banister glanced up from his papers again. “I thought you wanted to be my friend, not my psychiatrist.” He asked.

Sanders shrugged his shoulders. “In a place like this they are pretty much one in the same.” He looked at Banister. “Don’t you think?”

Sanders point threw him for a second. He set his pen down and sat back in his chair. “Are you sure you’re just a student?” He asked.

Sanders met his gaze. “Are you sure you’re just a teacher?” He asked in return.

Banister glanced down at his castle of paperwork. “Some days, I’m not even sure about that part.” He admitted.

“How so?” Sanders asked.

Banister began to fidget with his pen. “I came back here because this is the last place I remember being happy. I used to want that.” Banister was looking at his pen, talking more to himself than Sanders now.

“What Changed?” Sanders prodded.

Banister’s mind returned to his body and he sat up straight in his chair. “Mostly it’s like you said. The fire started, and sadly the first thing to burn was my love of this place.”

“So why are you still here then?” Sanders asked.

Banister leaned back over his work. “Paycheck.” He answered without looking up.

Sanders shook his head. “Bull”

Banister let his pen hover over the essay he had read half of three times now. His mind and Sanders distracting him from his work. He gave up finally, capped the pen and set it down on the desk. “Where else would I go? What else would I do? He asked to the universe.

Now Sanders mind went a million miles away. “Somewhere you can finish grieving.” Sanders said mostly to himself.

Banister cocks and eyebrow at in curiosity. “What?” He asked.

Sanders mind snapped back to the office. He shook his head and looked at his empty wrist where a watch might sit. “Sorry, nothing, was talking to myself.” He said as he stood up out of the chair and grabbed his bag.

“About what.” Banister asked.

Sanders shook his head. ‘Nothing, I. uh, I gotta get to my next class.” He excused himself and opened the office door quickly disappearing on the other side of it.

Banister watches as the door pulls itself shut. “Damn” He grumbles, picking up his pen again.

Shades of Justice: Chapter 15

Raptarus was completely unprepared for the unrelenting power of the possibility Stygian had placed in his left eye socket. He had not slept since he had returned to earth as it ceaselessly bombarded him with ideas.

He felt his body demanding the tiny amount of sleep it required but the possibility would not stop. The longer he was awake the more annoying the possibility became. When he started to hallucinate, he knew it was time to seek Stygian out. The only problem was he had no clue how to do that, and it happened to be a topic on which the possibility had nothing to offer.

“Raptarus” Stygian’s voice echoed in his mind. “I am not some creature you can summon as you wish.” He chastised.

But Raptarus was near delirious with lack of sleep. “Please, Stygigan, I need, it, it won’t let me sleep. I need to sleep Stygian.” He rambled on and on.

Stygian was a little more than annoyed. “The weaknesses inherent in mortal beings cause me nothing but frustration. If time were of no consequence, you would all destroy yourselves, but even the eternal darkness that birthed me is nothing more than the willing slave to the hands of time. Very well Raptarus, You shall have power over the possibility shard, but when you awake I will have a job for you to complete.”

Then there was nothing but blessed silence. Raptarus burst into tears and was in a fitful state of unconsciousness within minutes. He felt euphoria wash over his mind as it sank into the dark abyss of sleep.

But it was not peaceful sleep. It folded the plans of his master into his dreams. In his dream he saw the moon reflecting off wild ocean waves, sinking beneath and passing fish of varying sizes, going deeper and deeper as he passed whales and the deepest sea creatures man knew of. He stopped in the deepest part of the earth’s oceans. Where monsters never before seen swam over the ancient fossils of deep sea titans. He could feel the currents on his skin, the ocean floor beneath his feet, so much so that his mind began to wonder if he was actually dreaming or if the possibility was using his body while his mind was unconscious. He touched his hand to the deep ocean floor and felt a vibration so dense that he worried about bodily damage. The ground gave way slowly at first but picked up speed as a nightmare older than geological memory was reborn unto the earth. It left its watery tomb and headed for the surface, every few seconds the sheer size of it caused a small fracture in Raptarus’ mind. Until finally the leviathan was fully free of its final resting place and headed for the surface. He tried to follow the leviathan but it was so quick that even considering its size he lost it quite quickly.

His dreams devolved into nonsense shortly after that. When he woke up, his feet were covered with 

sand.

Blood and Profit: Chapter 38

First contact was not something the colony senate had ever prepared for. Eamon had quietly sat through the first day of hysterically reactionary babbling from the other representatives that had nothing but the senate to focus on. By lunch time on the second day he had had his fill of official statements and oratory concerning the importance of this moment in history. He was ready to get on to the actual moment.

The policy speeches were worse. Almost immediately the entire senate became entrenched in a 'nuke first  excavate bodies later' versus 'unroll the welcome mat and share the planet' argument. Eamon avoided getting involved in the argument and spent the evening of day two researching their capability to actually nuke or in any way strike the new alien forest. It didn't take him long to discover that they didn't have a stockpile large enough of any weapon to do enough damage to matter. The satellite photos had confirmed that the alien forest was now the largest forest on the planet. The senate ended the second day having made no decision either way.

Eamon had reached his limit of bureaucracy. He messaged his aide and they met at the front steps of the senate building. Eamon was the first member of his family to run for a senate seat. He was currently the only member of the senate who was not a third, fourth or fifth generation politician and it showed. He was more interested in making sure the job got done than he was in assuring his families honor and his districts status among the colony. He did not fit in well and he had stopped trying to long ago. His aide was a sixteen year old fifth generation political wunderkind. None of the other senate members would care that Kepi was sitting in for him in the morning. He had no need to brief her, he knew she was likely more aware of the political aspects of the situation than he was. Her family had practically bred her for this job, when other children were learning their letters and basic math she was learning the senate families and the structure of the colony government. Truthfully without her he would be completely lost and he hadn't even hired her. She had appeared in his office on his second day and practically taken the place over. She ran him through education drills and briefed him on all aspects of every bill, law, and ruling the senate was considering, she never needed any notes, and he knew that when his time was up he would give the seat to her. Not because it was tradition for seats to travel down lines of ascendancy but because he and Kepi had conversations that ran long into the night about the direction they saw for the colony and what they wished for their people. She had chosen to be his aide because he was not a politician and she had every desire to change the way the senate ran and his was the seat she could accomplish her goals. No the senate would not miss him, until they discovered the force of nature that had taken his place.

He didn't want the Skyway security systems to pick his cruiser up so he had to stay dangerously close to the ground as he made his way to the forest. He didn't know what he would say when he arrived, he didn't want to think about the possibility that the species seen in satellite photos was hostile or predatory toward humans, and based on the size of the forest he knew that the task ahead of him was likely impossible but his sister's ship had landed somewhere in the forest and he was determined to make sure that she was all right. 

Lidarion: Chapter 10

After a long day Lisa and Trent are camped a few hundred feet off the road, a small camp fire is dying down. Trent was lazily pushing the embers around with a stick as they listened to the woods around them.

“What’s Lidarion actually like?” Lisa asked out of the blue.

Trent set his stick down. “You spent your honeymoon there, even if you only left your room to eat you should have seen some of the city.” He pointed out.

She smiled softly and shook her head. “With the war about to start we never made it further than the first inn we came to after we got married.”

Trent smiled. “That explains why he never said much about your honeymoon.” He said as he used his stick to turn over the last log on the fire.

She had laid down next to the fire and stared intently into a bright orange ember. “So, tell me about your home town.”

He added another piece of wood the fire and set his stick down. “Most of my memories come from a life time ago, that Lidarion doesn’t much exist anymore. Sometimes I wonder if it ever did in the first place.”

Lisa had closed her eyes. “Tell me what you remember then.” She said starting to fade out.

He moved his feet closer to the fire as the fresh wood began to light up. “My parents were the elected representatives for the farmer’s guild. They sat in on the council meetings and because of their duties we got to live in the capitol city. My father’s brother took over our family farm when they moved. I have dreams about it sometimes but I wasn’t even three when we left so I couldn’t tell you if they were even close to accurate. What I do remember is that as a child, the city seemed to stretch on for a thousand miles. It was safer back then, before the war. In the summers we would have free reign of the inner city from the steps of the royal castle in the east, through the central market district where we could go north up to the gates of the docks district. It seemed like the central market district never ended. There were always new shops to discover and new foods to try, new people to spy on and trouble to get into. I didn’t know it as a child but we were always under close watch by palace guards that made sure we never got into more trouble than we, or they could handle. Most days our little gang of royal brats would end up in the booths of the Room at the Inn. The oldest and most successful bar and inn in all of Lidarion. Lisa was older than all of us. But by all rights she was still a kid, so the fact that she ran the place herself while her parents served as the market district representatives on the advisory council impressed everyone but us. What impressed us was cinnamon milk and sweet bread snacks, and napping in the wintertime by the huge fireplace that seemed to heat the entire Inn perfectly. None of the others kids cared, but often I would break off from the group and spend hours in the royal libraries that made up a large portion of the southern knowledge district. I loved wandering through the shelves, reading the spines of books I could reach or opening scrolls just enough to read their titles before putting them back on the shelf. My best friend was Squints and his father was the royal archivist so squints had free reign of the entire district. We would spends days upon days reading from the personal diaries of the kings of old as they described the wars that settled the Kingdom of Lidarion from the feuding squabbles of the nine ancient families to the unified kingdom it had become. Every hall in every library had its purpose. Some halls were better for being the sea swept battleships of Lord Vendalth’s assault fleet. Other hallways were perfect for playing out our favorite events from the succession wars. I may have been just a kid, but we lived a hundred lifetimes in the halls of the knowledge district.” 

Trent’s attention returned the present and saw through the fire that Lisa was fast asleep, her breathing was deep and even. He put another small log on the fire and let his mind wander back to his childhood.

The XP: Chapter 10

Bob, Blackout, Stygian, Torcano, and Trart are wandering through a player run shopping district trying to come up with names.

Blackout is flipping through cooking recipes and stops suddenly. “Ok, what about Eternal Damnation?” He asked.

Bob shakes her head as she picks up a Lute/flame thrower hybrid. “Too Goth.” She decrees, strumming the lute and causing a fairly large burst of flame to explode from its neck.

“The shadow Syndicate” Stygian offers setting an unimpressive chest plate back on the counter.

“Sounds like something out of an Asian B movie.” Blackout replies.

Trart is leaning against the wall of the shop just staring out the window. “What about –“

“No.” Bob interrupts him.

Trart stands up off the wall. “But –“

“I said no.” Bob glared at him.

By the afternoon they had made their way through the shopping district and were sitting together in a café. Still trying to come up with names.

“Oh!” Torcano said with excitement. “What about Blinding Might!” He held fist in the air.

Blackout rolled his eyes. “Oh sure, and we can all wear tights and do nothing but wrestling moves.”

“Imortalis Corporeal?” Stygian offered.

Trart let his head roll back onto his shoulders. “None of us glitter so enough with the Gothic names already.” He groaned.

Blackout tried to stand with a sense of imposing severity. “Thunderstar Imperium” He boomed.

Stygian nodded. “I’m down, but if we’re going to be an 80’s hair band I wanna be the drummer.” He did some air drumming for effect as blackout stuck his tongue out at him.

“Guy’s I really think I –“ Trart started but was quickly interrupted again.

“She meant ‘no’ as in ‘nuh uh’” Blackout clarified.

A week later and they still had not agreed on a name. The competition sign up closed in thirty minutes. The entire gang was standing in front of the sign up station.

“The Cult of Anarchy” Bob offered.

“I accept!” Torcano said with excitement. “Now lets go hang out in a graveyard and read Edgar Allen Poe Stories!” His joke earned him a rude gesture from Bob.

Blackout was next. “Prisoners of Fate?” He asked.

Trart held his hands over his heart. “A painfully emotional Hermione/Dobby Fan Fic.” Blackout shrugged his shoulders and nodded in agreement.

“All right then Trart, what have you been sitting on?” Stygian asked.

Trart smiled. “The Almost Entirely Awesome Adventures of the End of the World Club.” He finished.

There was a moment of silence as the rest of the group thought it over.

“Why the hell didn’t you say something earlier?” Bob shouted and then took off running as Trart chased her to the sign up table.

Once they had finished signing up They turned to leave the table and came face to face with Wainwright, Shizaboom, and Volnado. All three of whom were well known Game Masters.

Volnado stepped to the table and looked at their clan information. “Oh Torcano, I knew you were pathetic but this is a new low even for you.” He moved back over to the other two Game Masters.

“Who the heck is this guy?” Trart asked.

Torcano’s shoulders slumped. “Trart, meet Wainwright, Shizaboom, and Volnado, my brother.”