The Grand Battle S2G1! [Round Six: Eddelin City]

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

---

Eric smiled a bit at that, although there was the distinct impression somebody in his head was protesting loudly against it. "Cole, Arkal, we'd best investigate this Konka Rar madness personally."

"Can't the Guard handle them?"

"That's what Bern... expressed concern over. We both know Emily's stance on... matters such as Rar."

Cole growled something unintelligible, but obligingly followed the two, glaring at Arkal's look of incomprehension.

"I'm sorry, but who's Emily?"

"Emily Trenwye. Leader of the Geiram Guard. She's one of a handful of contestants who were Awakened - during the first Grand Battle to use this location. Once their round ended, she remained with her memories of the battle intact. It was with the combined efforts of Emily, Alcarith, and Midnara - the last, oddly, wasn't a contestant, but a friend of one who fought in this round - that the city was rebuilt."

"Where are the other two now?"

"Alcarith still serves as a member of the Guard, although she's always preferred Emily's leadership. That's her... up there." Eric pointed toward the skyscrapers' peaks, where a red dragon was lazily circling. "As for Midnara... we can't say we knew her personally; we've only ever heard of her from Emily."

Packston just shrugged in response to Arkal's lack of comprehension, showing he understood little better than the smith. Cole's emotions were harder to read, although if he was radiating anything it was a non-specific sort of disgruntlement. With a quick reconstructing of beetle wings, he flew ahead to assist the Guard.

Eric sighed. "The issue lies with Emily's... standpoints. On certain matters."

"Like?"

"Well, one intractable and frankly ludicrous hatred of hers is demons," interjected Greg.

The sounds of fighting were getting closer; the two men turned a corner and found the source of the commotion about half a city block away. Arkal stared at the dinosaurs rearing over the crowd for just long enough to concede it wasn't the strangest thing he'd seen, then frowned at Packston.

"That hardly seems damning-"

"Try telling our friend Samael that. I mean-" Thomas blinked, Eric wresting back control- "yes, she could stand to be less prejudiced toward the demonic. But the real problem with Emily is how she's defined the Guard's duty. They work for the citizens. The ones trying to lead normal lives despite the constant possibility of waking up and being someone or something else. She'll have no interest in apprehending disruptive Battlers for questioning; it's Guard policy to escort them to the designated zones immediately."

A young woman, scruffy hair bone-white atop a pair of pushed-up goggles, vaulted over a stationary vehicle and dashed with impunity through mostly-halted traffic. She turned for long enough mid-sprint, rifle slapping at her back, to toss Packston a haphazard salute.

"That's Michelle; we were all in the same-"

A black cat, whose stigma of misfortune wasn't helped by its eerie lack of hue or highlight or any distinguishing features, was entwining itself round Thomas' legs like its life depended on it. Packston detached the note from its collar, muttered "shit" and reclipped it to the cat, with only a "Emily. Straight away" before grimacing at Arkal.

"Eli and Steven spotted Konka Rar on Statler Plaza. They're requesting backup."

---

Sen snuffled around, noticeably jetlagged by being stuck in a bubble of temporal displacement since about twenty minutes after he'd Awakened. (Jacob's scouring of the city for the horticulturally inclined whose names started with S had been brutally thorough). He scratched at the sewer walls with a dozily sulky disappointment, trying to find enough grime to plant a World Tree in, as the two men argued.

"Jacob, no offence but this is really fucking stupid!"

"Brackett, I'm drunk." That netted Jacob a blissful three seconds of Jeremy being lost for words, before he saw some incredulous response coming and cut it off. "I've got the sword. 'n the killer fruit. 'n anything you can do, I can surpass with enough caffeine. If you actually, actually came up with decen' reasons why I shouldn't, I'll get bored and jus' cut to the chase." The chronomancer almost lost his sword with one wild gesture around "caffeine", but managed to hang onto it.

"The hell am I supposed to do to then!? Talk you down until you sober up?"

"Nah," was Jacob's eventual answer, after pondering it for far too long. "I just. Don't really care. 'n you shouldn't either!" he eventually growled, jabbing an accusing finger first at the doormage, then at the murderberry. "He sure doesn't!"

Sen had - somehow - got one hand snagged round a hook or rung in the ceiling about twice his height, an impressive feat for something with only two limbs. The other hand-leg-rake made a few futile pinwheels in an attempt to join its spidery brother, before the Tender gave up and fell back into the sewer with a splash and grumpy chatter. It surfaced, flicked water off its claws again, and trotted over to the only source of light in the sewer (Jacob's sword).

The chronomancer wrapped a an arm round Sen's neck in an almost-affectionate gesture, ignoring its tottering and irked creaks. Jacob was talking more to Sen than Jeremy at this point, under no illusion that the creature understood him in any capacity.

"See, Rar's back, the round's gonna be starting, and then hwoof! No need to explain, I don't think you even went three hours without wrecking a brave new frontier of civilisation. Y'know what I'm talking about."

hwoof, replied Sen, still crabwalking along on his storklike legs, trying to maintain balance with a time mage draped about his neck. "Three hours," repeated Jacob, motioning to the creature like a frat boy extolling how many kegs his lime friend had downed. Jeremy was unmoved.

"Jacob, you don't know that. Hell, ask Emily. She's been around since the first one, hasn't she?"

"She thinks she has," spat Jacob, rasping derision off his tongue. "Does 'James Parenthesis' remember the Great Rebuild of Geiram in nineteen-whenever? What about you?" Sen almost looked uncomfortable at this point. "Did the poor sap - hah - who Awakened to my suave features remember? No?"

"Look, it was James Barkley, you're completely fucked right now, and yeah he remembers! Uh. I remember."

Jacob just shook his head, jabbing his sword at Jeremy in warning when he tried to discourage the former's portal-casting. "They faked it," he countered. "Those two scientists figured it out. Uh. Haven. And Harmon. Haven and Harmon. They figured this city was a few hours old, at best."

As an inherently egocentric entity (namely, a human), Jeremy found this whole idea too stunningly wrong to respond. He raised his hands in defeat, more than a little unnerved by Jacob's dead-eyed glare.

"I'm making something of myself now, 'n if you want to make something of yourself trying to stop me, go right ahead. None of it matters anyway."

The portal beneath Jacob and Sen exploded with sunlight, which cast a shadowed death-mask from under the swordsman's face. The sewers blinked back into black as soon as the duo fell through.


Light. Light and rock and clouds below and damp above and Sen scrabbled to his feet, having flipped at a pavement-smearing angle when exiting the portal. Jacob was a more graceful on his feet, and even had the good sense to seal the torrent of sewer-water after him.

"Go on. Go wreck everything like you always do. Do something right for once."

Sen blinked, then trotted off where his soil-searching nose took him, deceptively harmless as a tree-based apocalypse could be. Jacob sighed, waiting for his magic to dry his clothes off.