Re: The Phenomenal Fracas! (GBS2G6): [Round Two: Witch's Haunt]
01-15-2011, 01:14 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by granolaman.
The roar of the steam engine forced Tamerlane to buckle over and cover his ears in pain. This place isn’t much better than the mansion he thought as he plugged his ears with sand. The noise dimmed enough for him to stand back up and get his bearings.
He was standing in the middle of a claustrophobic boiler room. Metal piping ran across the walls and ceiling with the occasional gasket gushing steam seemingly at random. On the side of the room across from him, a collection of gauges and meters steadily bobbed their needles across unlabeled hash marks. In front of the meters stood two surly men looking perplexed, no doubt wondering where this dusty stranger had come from. One of the men seemed to have stopped in the middle of feeding the furnace and was holding a shovelful of coal. Tamerlane’s eyes followed the trail of coal powder leading from the shovel to an open compartment filled with the stuff. He smirked as he hurriedly pulled out coal dust to replenish his pockets. Then, tipping his hat to the still confused laborers, he turned around and strolled out the car’s rear door.
As he stepped outside the rhythmic chug from earlier was joined by the constant rushing of the wind. Tamerlane pressed his hat to his head and peered around the edge of the car. In front of him was the car he’d just left and preceded only by the train’s massive engine. Huge wheels and pistons spun at breakneck speed as they pulled the train along. The dust shaper made a mental note to inform the king about this machine whenever he got back; it may prove a useful development for trade and travel. He turned around and looked back down the track. Over a dozen elegant and prestigious train cars followed behind like a nobleman’s caravan. Tamerlane examined the nearest car. It was brightly lit and he could see silhouetted figures moving about inside. He clenched his teeth and growled, he’d prefer to keep a low profile at least until he’d found another contestant.
He glanced towards the roof of the car. This side seemed scalable enough, and if he could get up there, he could travel across the train undetected. He looked back towards the front. There weren’t any low hanging bridges or trees coming up as far as he could see. Without that to worry about, Tamerlane pulled a cloth over his mouth and nose and hoisted himself up.
The fierce winds above the cars buffeted him and threatened to throw him off the train entirely. Only by creating dust claws for his feet and hands and digging into the roof was he able to make any progress at all. The car had three skylights at regular intervals across the rooftop, and by the time Tamerlane reached the first one his eyes were already stinging from the engine’s smoke. He peered down into the cabin below and saw the figures from before, now clearly lit. Rich folk, it appeared, all gussied up with fanciful hats and strange clockwork gizmos, gossiped and conversed cheerfully in their smoking lounge. Tamerlane’s eyes swept across the faces, but the other battlers were nowhere to be seen. He picked himself up and crawled along to the next skylight and peeked in. There were fewer people in this part of the car but still no sign of the cloth witch or the snake. Tamerlane began towards the next window when another figure caught his eye. A contemplating man in a cloak seeming a little out of place was walking through the car.
The god and his meat puppet Tamerlane focused his mind on forming his dust blade. I can get the drop on him now and be one body closer to escaping this damned tourna-
“I know you’re there.”
Tamerlane started as Muriegro’s eyes suddenly shot up to the ceiling and connected with his. His body froze where it was even though his mind was telling it to attack while he still had the chance. The priest continued to stare up at him as a voice floated through his head. Shit! He’s psychic!
“The Sandman, we meet at last. The others have thought such wonderful things about you.”
Tamerlane’s mind raced as he hastily threw up mental barriers to protect his vital brain functions.
“I see someone’s dealt with psychics before. There goes my plan to simply make you walk off the train.”
He finished setting up the last of the blocks and instantly began thinking of ways out of this mess. Step one, keep it talking. He could feel the god’s presence in his mindscape pacing the mental wall, looking for any weak points.
“So, you planning on killing me or turning me into a zombie like mister mumbo jumbo there.” Muriegro seemed to scowl at that last remark. Or he might have already been scowling, it was hard to tell. Ok, what do I have to work with. Can I move any of my limbs? He tried moving his leg. Nothing happened.
“Killing you seems a little out of the question,” came the voice from the other side of the wall. “These barriers are solid work; there’s no way through them. You know what you’re doing, I’ll grant you that much. No, I’m afraid we’ve reached a standstill.”
Tamerlane’s eyes were now stinging red from the smoke. The god wasn’t letting him blink lest he lose the visual connection. Limbs won’t work, what about my shaping? He gave an experimental tug at the coal powder and saw it jump. Perfect.
“Anyways, you’ve already done a good job ensuring your death without my help. As we ‘speak’ the others are rallying against you. I didn’t have to manipulate a single one of them to bring this about.”
“Is that so?” A trail of powder seeped out of his coat and slithered its way down to a side window. “I don’t suppose you’re telling me this because you want an alliance?”
“Nah, just passing the time.” The foreign presence wandered back out into Tamerlane’s unprotected mindscape. “Say, you left something behind out here. It’s a big silvery sphere thingy.”
Tamerlane recognized the object in question. Sitting in his mindscape was a large opaque sphere. He’d tried opening it once he had learned how to explore and defend his head, but whatever it was it had resisted his every attempt at cracking it. He figured it was probably something long forgotten, like what his appendix was for. Whatever keeps it distracted. He had sent enough dust into the cabin and so far as he could tell neither the priest nor the god had noticed. “Didn’t figure it was important enough to save, it’s just been sitting there as long as I can remember.”
“Well now that’s just ironic.”
“How’s that?” The dust behind Muriegro began to take on the shape of a giant scorpion’s tail.
“Because it’s filled with memories”
The dust stopped shaping.
“And how would you know?”
“It’s a simple memory blocker. It’s been designed so you can’t see through to them, but I can see everything clearly. Someone else has gone into your mind tucked away all these pesky memories it seems. It doesn’t seem very strong though, a big blow to the head could probably make a few of these escape even. Now that’s just backwards.”
“I won’t fall for your little mind games, deity. You can’t see anything out there.”
“I’m sure this Miriam character would disagree.”
“What?”
“Oh yeah, there’s a lot in here about her.”
Was there truth to the god’s words? What if someone really had blocked his memories? Tamerlane weakened his barriers for a moment. Maybe just a glimpse…
A dark presence threw itself against the weak spot. Tamerlane’s mind sprawled from the frightening shock. Below in the cabin, the half-formed stinger abruptly slammed into Muriegro and knocked him over. The line of sight broken, Tamerlane quickly commanded his head to turn away from the priest and it finally obeyed. His gaze turned towards the front of the train. Up ahead, the engine had just entered a low tunnel and was swiftly bringing the rest of the train with it.
Where’d that tunnel come from?!
In one less-than-fluid motion, Tamerlane smashed through the skylight and tumbled into the car, landing on a pile of glass with a crunch. Sharp pain raced through his back, but as he watched the tunnel overtake the place he’d just been, he concluded that the glass was definitely better than the alternative.
Regrouping his dust into a blade, he quickly scrambled to his feet. Tamerlane swiveled to find where Muriegro had landed, his mind’s defenses fully alerted. A hasty survey of the cabin, however, revealed that the priest had vanished taking his god with him. Next time, no mistakes, he thought, relaxing a little. I’ll be ready for whatever lies he throws in my direction. And yet, Aguja had mentioned Miriam. The name sounded so familiar, the god couldn’t have just pulled that out of thin air. The idea that someone had tampered with his mind distressed Tamerlane, but now was not an opportune time to reflect on it. He turned to enter the next section of train and continue his search when a hiss of steam spewed from a nearby compartment.
A sliding door on the side of the cabin slid open and a humanoid figure of brass and iron stepped into the cabin.
“HIGHWAYMEN AND BANDITS ARE NOT WELCOME ON THE IRON ROSE. DO NOT RESIST.”
The roar of the steam engine forced Tamerlane to buckle over and cover his ears in pain. This place isn’t much better than the mansion he thought as he plugged his ears with sand. The noise dimmed enough for him to stand back up and get his bearings.
He was standing in the middle of a claustrophobic boiler room. Metal piping ran across the walls and ceiling with the occasional gasket gushing steam seemingly at random. On the side of the room across from him, a collection of gauges and meters steadily bobbed their needles across unlabeled hash marks. In front of the meters stood two surly men looking perplexed, no doubt wondering where this dusty stranger had come from. One of the men seemed to have stopped in the middle of feeding the furnace and was holding a shovelful of coal. Tamerlane’s eyes followed the trail of coal powder leading from the shovel to an open compartment filled with the stuff. He smirked as he hurriedly pulled out coal dust to replenish his pockets. Then, tipping his hat to the still confused laborers, he turned around and strolled out the car’s rear door.
As he stepped outside the rhythmic chug from earlier was joined by the constant rushing of the wind. Tamerlane pressed his hat to his head and peered around the edge of the car. In front of him was the car he’d just left and preceded only by the train’s massive engine. Huge wheels and pistons spun at breakneck speed as they pulled the train along. The dust shaper made a mental note to inform the king about this machine whenever he got back; it may prove a useful development for trade and travel. He turned around and looked back down the track. Over a dozen elegant and prestigious train cars followed behind like a nobleman’s caravan. Tamerlane examined the nearest car. It was brightly lit and he could see silhouetted figures moving about inside. He clenched his teeth and growled, he’d prefer to keep a low profile at least until he’d found another contestant.
He glanced towards the roof of the car. This side seemed scalable enough, and if he could get up there, he could travel across the train undetected. He looked back towards the front. There weren’t any low hanging bridges or trees coming up as far as he could see. Without that to worry about, Tamerlane pulled a cloth over his mouth and nose and hoisted himself up.
The fierce winds above the cars buffeted him and threatened to throw him off the train entirely. Only by creating dust claws for his feet and hands and digging into the roof was he able to make any progress at all. The car had three skylights at regular intervals across the rooftop, and by the time Tamerlane reached the first one his eyes were already stinging from the engine’s smoke. He peered down into the cabin below and saw the figures from before, now clearly lit. Rich folk, it appeared, all gussied up with fanciful hats and strange clockwork gizmos, gossiped and conversed cheerfully in their smoking lounge. Tamerlane’s eyes swept across the faces, but the other battlers were nowhere to be seen. He picked himself up and crawled along to the next skylight and peeked in. There were fewer people in this part of the car but still no sign of the cloth witch or the snake. Tamerlane began towards the next window when another figure caught his eye. A contemplating man in a cloak seeming a little out of place was walking through the car.
The god and his meat puppet Tamerlane focused his mind on forming his dust blade. I can get the drop on him now and be one body closer to escaping this damned tourna-
“I know you’re there.”
Tamerlane started as Muriegro’s eyes suddenly shot up to the ceiling and connected with his. His body froze where it was even though his mind was telling it to attack while he still had the chance. The priest continued to stare up at him as a voice floated through his head. Shit! He’s psychic!
“The Sandman, we meet at last. The others have thought such wonderful things about you.”
Tamerlane’s mind raced as he hastily threw up mental barriers to protect his vital brain functions.
“I see someone’s dealt with psychics before. There goes my plan to simply make you walk off the train.”
He finished setting up the last of the blocks and instantly began thinking of ways out of this mess. Step one, keep it talking. He could feel the god’s presence in his mindscape pacing the mental wall, looking for any weak points.
“So, you planning on killing me or turning me into a zombie like mister mumbo jumbo there.” Muriegro seemed to scowl at that last remark. Or he might have already been scowling, it was hard to tell. Ok, what do I have to work with. Can I move any of my limbs? He tried moving his leg. Nothing happened.
“Killing you seems a little out of the question,” came the voice from the other side of the wall. “These barriers are solid work; there’s no way through them. You know what you’re doing, I’ll grant you that much. No, I’m afraid we’ve reached a standstill.”
Tamerlane’s eyes were now stinging red from the smoke. The god wasn’t letting him blink lest he lose the visual connection. Limbs won’t work, what about my shaping? He gave an experimental tug at the coal powder and saw it jump. Perfect.
“Anyways, you’ve already done a good job ensuring your death without my help. As we ‘speak’ the others are rallying against you. I didn’t have to manipulate a single one of them to bring this about.”
“Is that so?” A trail of powder seeped out of his coat and slithered its way down to a side window. “I don’t suppose you’re telling me this because you want an alliance?”
“Nah, just passing the time.” The foreign presence wandered back out into Tamerlane’s unprotected mindscape. “Say, you left something behind out here. It’s a big silvery sphere thingy.”
Tamerlane recognized the object in question. Sitting in his mindscape was a large opaque sphere. He’d tried opening it once he had learned how to explore and defend his head, but whatever it was it had resisted his every attempt at cracking it. He figured it was probably something long forgotten, like what his appendix was for. Whatever keeps it distracted. He had sent enough dust into the cabin and so far as he could tell neither the priest nor the god had noticed. “Didn’t figure it was important enough to save, it’s just been sitting there as long as I can remember.”
“Well now that’s just ironic.”
“How’s that?” The dust behind Muriegro began to take on the shape of a giant scorpion’s tail.
“Because it’s filled with memories”
The dust stopped shaping.
“And how would you know?”
“It’s a simple memory blocker. It’s been designed so you can’t see through to them, but I can see everything clearly. Someone else has gone into your mind tucked away all these pesky memories it seems. It doesn’t seem very strong though, a big blow to the head could probably make a few of these escape even. Now that’s just backwards.”
“I won’t fall for your little mind games, deity. You can’t see anything out there.”
“I’m sure this Miriam character would disagree.”
“What?”
“Oh yeah, there’s a lot in here about her.”
Was there truth to the god’s words? What if someone really had blocked his memories? Tamerlane weakened his barriers for a moment. Maybe just a glimpse…
A dark presence threw itself against the weak spot. Tamerlane’s mind sprawled from the frightening shock. Below in the cabin, the half-formed stinger abruptly slammed into Muriegro and knocked him over. The line of sight broken, Tamerlane quickly commanded his head to turn away from the priest and it finally obeyed. His gaze turned towards the front of the train. Up ahead, the engine had just entered a low tunnel and was swiftly bringing the rest of the train with it.
Where’d that tunnel come from?!
In one less-than-fluid motion, Tamerlane smashed through the skylight and tumbled into the car, landing on a pile of glass with a crunch. Sharp pain raced through his back, but as he watched the tunnel overtake the place he’d just been, he concluded that the glass was definitely better than the alternative.
Regrouping his dust into a blade, he quickly scrambled to his feet. Tamerlane swiveled to find where Muriegro had landed, his mind’s defenses fully alerted. A hasty survey of the cabin, however, revealed that the priest had vanished taking his god with him. Next time, no mistakes, he thought, relaxing a little. I’ll be ready for whatever lies he throws in my direction. And yet, Aguja had mentioned Miriam. The name sounded so familiar, the god couldn’t have just pulled that out of thin air. The idea that someone had tampered with his mind distressed Tamerlane, but now was not an opportune time to reflect on it. He turned to enter the next section of train and continue his search when a hiss of steam spewed from a nearby compartment.
A sliding door on the side of the cabin slid open and a humanoid figure of brass and iron stepped into the cabin.
“HIGHWAYMEN AND BANDITS ARE NOT WELCOME ON THE IRON ROSE. DO NOT RESIST.”