Guild's War 4: Operation Popping Daisies

[Pixie]

((The Guilds' Conference))

Ash docked the boat, and grabbed his lance from the inside. It was fitted with a wood cap to appear as a walking stick, as not to startle people. He approached the tiger girl at the base of the river who may or may not have been aware of his sister's whereabouts. He looked her in the eye, and stood calmly with his totally-just-a-walking-stick in hand. It was a little difficult to ignore the captive ninja, but he reserved mentioning it for a time after the discussion of Eleanor.

"Alright. Are you aware of Eleanor's current location?" He questioned, tilting his head slightly in inquiry. "That's my sister's name: Eleanor." 

[Tiger]

The boy approached with a walking stick he didn't seem to use, but far be it from Tiger to judge when he needed a cane. Walking sticks could made decent weapons in a pinch, anyway.

"She preferred Ellen, as far as I could tell," Tiger said. "Your sister's been captured by an army of zombies. It looks like everyone here's busy - once I figure out what to do with this man," she shook the ninja a little, "would you be interested in mounting a rescue?"

It was brash, it was forward, and Tiger didn't really care. Something had to be done, and if this guy wasn't trustworthy...well, Tiger had a lot of ways to get rid of traitors. "What's your name, son?"

Once they'd handled that, Tiger giving her name in turn, the disfigured mage looked down at her captive and said, "While we're making introductions - let's hear your name, and a reason for stalking us here. Make it good," she added with a low growl.

[Lord Hayati]

((Stinky Pile of Poo))

Malleus frowned. "I know, you won't trust me. But I saw the zombie army... There was an usul, with odd magic powers in it. She hurled an odd spell at me, which I caught..."

He pulled out the Card which contained Krisseh's spell.

"Trust me, I don't normally allign with mages... but this situation is serious."

[Tiger]

((Sorry for the delay Lord Hayati and Pixie ))

"Hm." That Usul had to be Krisseh. Probably a captive, too, Tiger reasoned...except, why would she be able to shoot a spell at Malleus? Something didn't add up, and she would have to ask the ninja about it later.

"Trust me, I don't normally align with mages...but this situation is serious."

"Yeah. I'm getting that feeling." Tiger released the ninja, but stepped back and had a hand on her sword in an instant, ready to attack if Malleus snatched up one of his kunai and turned on her. Even when, presumably, he didn't attack, she kept her hand in place, while reaching to take the card with the other. "All right, congratulations - you can come with Ellie's brother and I. Azalea?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "If you're staying, would you mind updating the Archmage?"

Nodding for the ninja to move ahead of her, Tiger headed for the river. She hoped Ash's boat was big enough for everyone; it would be faster and much easier on their feet. If not...well, at least they'd have water to drink along the way. "So, ninja - where is this army?"

[Lord Hayati]

((On the road again))

Malleus slowly picked up his Dropped kunai. (+9 Kunai) He also gave the card to tiger, for her to examine. (-1 card)

"Be careful. if you tear the card up, it casts the spell contained inside. and since it was from a zombie..." he suddenly paused. What would Tiger's magic do to his cards? She looked like a mage, so he had to be certain he could catch her magic.

Shrugging off the thought, he put his kunai back into his bag, and moved to the front. It was a shakey alliance, but in desperate times, sometimes a strained friendship can mean the difference between being a savior, and having your brains being served on a silver platter.

"By the way, the name is Malleus. I specialize in capturing magic. The zombies seem to have 4 leaders. I overheard them going to Kestrel."

[The Horsemen]

((Somewhere))

Euripides sat in a comfy armchair, cradling a glass of wine. It was good wine. He kept it for special occasions. For the time being, he wasn't too sure about having the stuff, because the occasion was getting a little stale to watch, but he had high hopes for Miss Jensen, and he had high hopes for the story.

The war unfolded in front of him. He knew how to always get the front row seats.

Something opened - not solid enough to be called a door, not intangible enough to just be referred to as teleportation. Whatever it was, as a result of it four new figures were in the picture.

Euripides turned around in the chair, smiling.

"Will you look at that cocky son of a horse," War said grimly. "He looks like he needs a white cat to stroke."

"Well, that's a bit rude," Euripides said coolly, "this being my home and all."

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse stood on what wasn't quite a doorway, resisting the narrative pull. The world they worked with was always full of narrative pull so they were used to it more than most deities, but right now they stood before the God of Narrative. The pull was massive here. It demanded that they rush in at him, yelling and accusing while he sits calmly and smiles that irritating smile. It stood to reason somehow. It's what you did. But they resisted anyway, because it would've made them look stupid and you can moor a small ship on a Horseman's pride.

WE'RE DISCONTENT WITH WHAT YOUR SECRETARY DID, Death said, words falling heavily into place like letters on a tombstone. He had a good voice for the non-yelling, non-accusatory sort of confrontations.

"That is unfortunate," Euripides said pleasantly.

"I'm pretty sure there's some sort of contract there," Famine hissed, sizzling with pent-up rage. Being formerly human, she had less control than the others. Only Death's bony hand on her very nearly equally bony shoulder kept her from going off like a deadly champagne cork.

"Strictly speaking, yes and no," Euripides said, still with that very punchable smile. "Being a god, the first point in my contracts with anything is that I can break the contract whenever I find it necessary - or indeed whenever I please. Otherwise there'd be very little point in being a god, you see."

BUT THEN WHAT'S THE POINT OF ANY AGREEMENTS? Death demanded, his voice rising. It echoed back in the space.

"Mostly to give an illusion of order to those who need it," said the god, spinning back to look at the world below. "Why are you accusing me, anyway? It was, as it were, one of her little hobbies. A girl has to have one, I'm told."

"She would not be where she is now without your help," War said heavily. Euripides shrugged, as if to say 'see point one'.

"And what," TMC demanded, sidling forward, "was she thinking using Pestilence's circlet? I'm the active fourth Horseman! She should've used my bike for that spell!"

Silence fell, sporting fashionable fringes of awkward.

"Dude," War said, "priorities."

"You'd bloody better believe those are my priorities! How would you feel if instead of your sword she'd nicked whatever the thingy was old Famine used, how'sat look for-"

Something closed as the ensuing bicker got discreetly shuffled out the plane. Euripides leaned back and chuckled.

* * *

"Yeah, I got nothing," said TMC, once they were in the plane of Horsemen, their own little discreet backyard that only had Horsemen access. Or so they now hoped.

SAY WHAT NOW? Death asked, rubbing his skull wearily. Dealing with gods got on his nerves; most of them never had the grace to acknowledge that they too could die.

"I can't pull anything," said the man. "No time-freeze, no shifting, no nothing what you so kindly called, how was it, THOSE SNEAKY LOOPHOLES YOU'RE SO GOOD AT JERKWADDING INTO."

"Is that possible?" Famine asked cautiously. The Horsemen generally knew that TMC was the most powerful of them all - not just stronger, but several magnitudes stronger. They also generally knew that ever acknowledging the fact meant a faux pas on par with stealing fire from the gods, and you'd likely get excluded from their poker nights for all eternity too.

TMC looked grim. "He's got me in a..." the end trailed off in a mumble.

"What was that?"

"plot-induced reason," TMC muttered with the sort of sheepish reluctance most often seen in thirteen-year-old boys who got browbeaten into wishing Great Aunt Martha a happy birthday.

"Is that something you get medication for?" War asked, furrowing a brow.

"I haven't cracked it yet," TMC said gruffly. "It's like, it's a narrative thing. My powers would work on him, if not for some crucial one-time 'but' caused by an improbable yet existing set of circumstances. Think of it as a puzzle. I need to figure it out. He's a bleedin' god of stories, of course he'll be surrounded by convenient reasons why a sniper can't just take him out from afar if it could very well happen otherwise and suchlike. Death, are you grinning? I keep thinking that I'm starting to get the hang of when you're grinning and when you're just, well, your face, so please tell me I'm getting somewhere with this."

WELL, WHAT I'M THINKING IS, said Death, and there really was a grin in his voice. EURIPIDES' POWER KEEPS STORIES ON TRACK. WOULD HE HAVE UNFORESEEN TROUBLE IN A WORLD IN WHICH PEOPLE ARE... DISTURBINGLY GOOD AT SUBVERTING THOSE?

They turned to look at the world.

[♥ Azzie]

(Near Stinky-Pile-O-Poo)

Azalea listened to the discussion with growing interest and concern.
"Actually, if you don't mind, I'd like to come along," she told Tiger. "I'm sure we could update her quickly before we go, though. Unless she's still busy. I don't really want to get her mad at us." She looked over toward the meeting, but between the trees and the other guilders, she couldn't get a clear view of her. She flew along with Tiger even as she spoke, not wanting to be left behind. She looked at Ash and said quietly "I can make myself small. I won't take up much room."

[Pixie]

((The Guilds' Conference))

The news Ash heard was worrying- extremely worrying, if he was honest with himself.  He had expected his sister Eleanor to get herself into to trouble, as the odds of her somehow managing to not was about equivalent to the odds of him spontaneously sprouting a second set of arms. He thought maybe she got intercepted by con artists or slavers, broke a law neither of them knew existed, or likewise had fallen into a pit. Zombies were not expected, and that's what made Ash believe he was being played with when he had been warned. There was no security in correct intuition. The expected trouble was too deep, too dangerous.

And now, Ash thought sullenly and silently, they have my careless sister. Yes, those tales must have a chance to have been true with these people acting so seriously. And the faerie and tiger must be mages, most likely the most fitting of the "guilds" for Eleanor. It could be good- if she was mindless enough to get kidnapped,at least some people seem to be looking after her. She could be in great danger- we need to save her!

"I am Ashton Jayfield, of Amberdale." He answered when he was asked. "You are mages, except Malleus, correct? Are you in charge of Ellen?"

"Either way, I suppose the quickest path to Kestrel is up the Ebi River until the ocean's tides cease, then through the trail. Five might be a tight fit but if we can manage, then all of you can come. I'm rescuing her no matter the method, but the more skills the merrier." He leaned on his capped lance, which he realized would be an effective bashing weapon even with the cover, and backed into the small boat. He waited for the rest of the rescue party to enter the boat before distributing oars.

"We will reach Castle Krestel in two hours. Let's hope Ellen can survive until we can reach her." He stated, as he gripped the oar hard enough to numb his hands and turn the skin over the knuckles taut and pale. That was two hours to come up with a plan.

[Thundy]

Being dead was pretty sweet and very relaxing but it was not to last for Captain Julius N. Thunderbolt, who after being shook awoke quite violently, realized that in fact he wasn't actually dead.

"Ah Sir, you're back, uh, we're still losing altitude and it looks like there's some kind of problem with the reactor." A man he vaguely remembered at the XO was standing above him speaking to him. It was quite cold. After turning his head he could see why, there was a large hole in the wall through which a stiff wind was blowing through and outside was blue skies tinged with angry clouds.

"What on Earth..." Thundy stated. Alarms were ringing and red lights pulsed on the ceiling.

"Bridge took a direct hit from lightning, sir. Navigation's fried." It was beginning to come back to Thundy now. Commander of the flying ship "Kadmos" since its launch several years ago, the ship and its crew had strayed into an unusually powerful storm while on a routine exercise.

"We're losing altitude?" Thundy was rising to his feet now, glancing about the control screens around him. Just over half were black and emitting sparks. One in the corner had flames licking across it.

"At a rate of 1000 feet per minute, so that gives us less than 5 minutes to halt the ship's vertical motion. Or at least we could if the reactor was functioning."

"What's wrong with the reactor?" With a leaking reactor, there would be enough radiation to kill them -before- they even hit the ground.

"Power surge knocked out some of our automatic safety systems, along with a whole lot of subsystems throughout the ship. We've got 2 working engines, the other 4 are down. I got isolated fires on several decks too, but thankfully none near the ammunition magazines."

"Which idiot designed our air-borne reactor that's vulnerable to lightning strikes?"

"I believe that was you, sir."

"Ah right." Thundy sighed "Well we're coming down. What's our position?"

"No idea, we're over the ocean, there's a small coastal town about 3 klicks north east."

"We'll make for that. Try and signal them. Use radio, semaphore, flares, anything they might be able to notice."

"I think, sir, that the sight of a flaming flying ship falling from the sky would be quite noticeable."

"Too right." Thundy said and gritted his teeth.

[Huntress]

((Stinky-Pile-o-Poo Convention of This Year A.D))

The meeting of the guild leaders was quickly but efficiently becoming the awkward sit-about of the guild leaders. Both sides and all parties had said what there was to be said, neither was going to budge and there wasn't anything that could be done without gravely offending the other party and probably losing several thousand diplomacy points or however that system worked. Hunty hadn't gotten as far with her half-hearted studies yet.

She sighed, turned her back haughtily to Celestial and Fraze and strolled away slowly, muttering quietly to Bloody Mary. The meepit scrambled up from his usual half-hanging position, listened with alert attention, dropped off her shoulder, scuttled across the grass and bounced up onto Fraze's shoulder while the captain strolled on towards the blarf.

"Okay, here's the deal," he said. "Hunty's gone and allied the pirates with our zombie conquerors, which I'd gladly call stupid if not for the fact that they seem to be the winning side here. She's got the duty for her crew and her ship. I, however, don't. I'm not even a pirate. So Miss Jensen can't hold anything against anyone if I suggest to you and everyone present that we make use of the information we have and try to track down the Horsemen of the Apocalypse a-sap while the zombie army is distracted with sweet, sweet victory."

Hunty sidled up to the blarf in the meantime. The big beast had recovered from his marathon-trot better than she'd expected; apparently they'd spent more time at this meeting than she thought. She was scratching the beastie behind the ear when something caught her eye.

She looked up to see a burning airship falling towards the village.

"Huh," she said.

[Rider]

Stories are messy things.

Sure, the end result looks neat, tidy even. But the process involves opening doors, not only to the world being written, but to a hundred thousand other planes of existence. Places where people evolved wings, places where demons walk, places where daisies speak, places where thoughts and prayers turn to ashes in your head for the sound of your own terror. No story is born without outside influence. Every story is the direct descendant of every story that came before it.

If you know how to use those doors, you can make a fortune.

A young man in coattails and a top hat frowned at the strange device before him. "Though I am a man of science and reason, I must say it appears this light is powered by witchcraft."

"A simple harnessing of lightning," said the boy before him. He was dressed rather sloppily in suspenders and a newsboy cap. A few long hairs had escaped the cap and the boy's chest looked a little too full. A perfectly clean red handkerchief was nestled in his filthy pocket. "Though it has limited use, so please do not shine it needlessly."

"It contains the power of lightning and yet you say it is safer than my lantern?"

"It's all contained within the plastic," the boy said. "It's made of plastic, you see."

"And you call it a flashlight. An odd name, as it shines steady and does not flash." The man turned it on and peered into it, hoping to figure out its mysteries. "Very well, child, you have earned your pay."

The man looked up, but the pay was gone, along with his pocketwatch. A woman in a red cape was running from where the boy had stood. He raised his voice to stop the woman, but she climbed a soot-covered building, leapt from the roof and vanished into a hole in the sky.

So next time you see a pocketwatch in a play set in feudal Japan, understand that Rider was there, trading and adventuring. If the elf in your high fantasy novel starts referencing a Taylor Swift song, it is because he heard Rider sing it drunkenly in a tavern one night. If you hear modern-day slang in your futuristic space marine video game, it is because Rider used it there first. Contamination is her favorite sort of havoc.

She had only intended to stop back home to restock provisions for herself and her demon-horse, but no sooner did her feet touch Dunbarrow soil than she heard the words, "Mage Manor has fallen." A concept as impossible as a flashlight in the Victorian Era.

"Shiva," she said to the horse, "how well can you remember Celestial's scent?"

"Like I could forget the stink of dragon," Shiva spat. Cele smelled fine, Rider knew, but Shiva generally didnt take well to anyone more powerful than him.

The two tracked the mage scent to the overpowering smell of that quaint fishing village where tensions would be running high if everyone wasn't so unsure about how to upset everyone without upsetting anyone. Also, there were undead. Not evil undead, but also not Rikku undead.

And there was a skyship falling not far from her captain. As if on instinct, Rider reached into her pack and pulled out a white marble. She threw it at the underbelly of the ship, whose descent slowed.

She pulled a number of other colored marbles from her pack. "I haven't a clue what any of the rest of these do, but unless someone can tell me why the Manor, our last defense against true evil, has fallen, I will start chucking these fairly indiscriminately. 'Cept for at Cap'n, Cap'n's cool."

[Tiger]

((Stinky Pile-O-Poo / Ash's boat))

"Actually, if you don't mind, I'd like to come along."

"The more, the better, I think," Tiger said grimly. But her tail did a pleased little twitch at the tip and her ears perked a little. Having someone she could actually trust along for the ride was a huge relief, especially with her own magic all but entirely drained.

"I'm sure we could update her quickly before we go, though. Unless she's still busy. I don't really want to get her mad at us."

"Agreed...she can turn into a dragon." Tiger rummaged through her remaining pockets; she found a scrap of parchment she'd been using as a bookmark back before the Games, and a quick scan of the riverbank revealed a rock that she could use to make some rough markers.

As Ash laid out their route, Tiger picked up the rock and started scratching a short note. "Rescuing Ellen @ Castle Kestrel. <3, Tiger & Azalea". She tilted her head, then scratched out the "<3". She left the note on a tree stump, the rock atop the parchment so it wouldn't blow away.

"Two hours," she muttered as she headed for the boat, trying to calculate how much magic she'd have available at that point. Still not as much as she'd like, especially if she used a little on the way to either heal Azalea's foot or make some sea-beast to help with the boat. She took an oar from Ashton and when they'd all gotten settled, started rowing. It took her a minute to get the hang of it again; it had been quite a few years since she'd traveled by boat. When they were firmly on the water and in good rhythm, Tiger tried to lay out the situation as succinctly as possible.

"Miss Jensen, a crazy woman who's probably some sort of mage - a necromancer at least, I figure - is trying to take over Dunburrow. She rambled about stories and challenges or something...I don't know that it's important. But she already has the castle, she's already destroyed our manor...You know." She paused in her rowing. "This army's not going to be at the Castle. They were marching in the opposite direction, weren't they, Azzie?"

[Amneiger]

Hmm. Amneiger hadn't seen Rider in a while. He wondered where she'd been.

"Zombies," he said. "Someone by the name of Miss Jensen raised a bunch of dead Dunburrow heroes and had them lead a zombie army on Mage Manor. I don't know what they did to take the Manor. She's set up a headquarters in the Dunburrow castle; I still don't know what happened to all the knights. Speaking of which, there's a neighboring kingdom that looks like it's about to invade Dunburrow. Spacefleet has allied with the Mages against the zombies. Hunty just told us that she's allied the Pirates to Miss Jensen. Maybe she'll know more about them."

[♥ Azzie]

((Ash's Boat))

"They were marching in the opposite direction, weren't they, Azzie?"

Azzie nodded. "I think so. I wonder where they were going." She pondered for a moment, before a look of terror came over her. "You don't think she's aiming to take over the whole of the NTWF?"

No, she thought. Don't think like that.

She turned to Ash and extended a hand. "And on that happy note, I'm afraid I was too preoccupied back there to introduce myself properly. I'm Azzie. It's nice to meet you! I mean, it'd be nicer under better circumstances, but best to make do with what we have."

[Fraze]

((Stinky-Pile-o-Diplomacy))

The first airship crashing down was unexpected. The second one, careening through the sky, established a pattern.

Fraze looked up. "Maybe we should move out of the way?" he asked Celestial, trying and failing to maintain a diplomatic level of aloofness from the situation. "It looks like we're going to get a steady stream of zeppelins falling on our heads otherwise."

He looked up at the airship again, doing a rough calculation of its trajectory. It looked like it would destroy much of the town. "Actually, pardon me for a moment." He turned away from Celestial. "Amnei!" He led the professor's gaze up toward the large descending craft. "Can you take your ship up and give that thing a push to the side? It'll crash into the town at this rate, but you might be able to get it to land in the field on the side of town. I wouldn't suggest the ocean, this being a fishing village. I'll tell my ship to match your course."

It looked like Rider had shown up as well; the Commander had almost learned not to question her presence, or lack thereof. Almost. Before he could actually do any questioning, however, Bloody Mary landed on his shoulder and made a proposal.

"I'd entirely support that idea, if there's a way to do it. Do you have any information about how to...un-summon...the undead?" he asked both the meepit and the dragonmage. At this point, he would be more trusting of any information Celestial might offer, but the veracity of anything Bloody Mary might say could always be verified later.

((And off-screen.))