Re: The Vivacious Deadlock: S3G6: Round Two: BJ
03-04-2012, 04:42 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Akumu.
Bartholomew Biggs stared agape at the ruined remains of his fellow watchman. They had been sitting at a rough-hewn wooden table atop the battlements of Santa Nada, enjoying a spirited game of bones, when a stream of hot lixx had literally melted the poor bastard's face off. So long had the uneasy peace with the Thünderwölf Clan been maintained, that Biggs' first thought was to look inwards at the busy streets of Santa Nada for the perpetrator. He was getting to his feet and reaching for the alarum when a drumroll peppered his back. He staggered forward, his fingers brushing past the rope that would have rung the alert, and it was only just beginning to dawn on him that this was a viking assault when the bass kick slammed into him and flung his broken body off the wall and down into the marketplace below.
Harmon had homed in on a commercial district and was peeking into this store and that, never seeming to find what she was looking for. Klendel kept a keen eye on her reactions, trying to piece together what she might be seeking. He could always ask her, still having his question, but he knew well enough that it was best not to ask questions unless you had a good idea what the answer was going to be. More than a means of gaining information, they were just one more lever with which to shift a mind. Still, after the fourth apothecary that she withdrew from empty-handed, he was becoming impatient.
“Doctor Harmon,” he started in, waiting for her to come out of her thoughts and focus on him before continuing, “the street layout here has intriguing implications.”
“What do you mean?”
“The road we've been on as we have been visiting all of these charming shops has been curving quite steadily to the left, but all of the cross streets have been meeting it at right angles. Not your standard grid layout, more like-”
“A polar plot, yes, I see what you mean. So you're saying it has a center. It's probably just the seat of government, a piddling castle to go along with all this medievalness.” Harmon flopped her hand dismissively at the surroundings. She was in mid-eye-roll when a hand clamped down tightly on her wrist. She gave a small yelp and turned to find Cascala standing uncomfortably close and staring up at her with an unhinged intensity.
“The song! Can't you feel it? It connects everything and all connections lead back to it! It is building to a crescendo, and we must add our voices. Come!”
The mage turned crisply away and started striding down a side street towards the interior of the city, dragging Harmon along behind. The physicist shook herself free, crying “Fine! Fine!” and continuing to follow behind, with Klendel bringing up the rear. Harmon thought that perhaps she was truly picking up on something, some power underlying this world, and if it had a locus that she might be able to harness it. Klendel, for his part, was just glad that something interesting was finally happening.
Bartholomew Biggs stared agape at the ruined remains of his fellow watchman. They had been sitting at a rough-hewn wooden table atop the battlements of Santa Nada, enjoying a spirited game of bones, when a stream of hot lixx had literally melted the poor bastard's face off. So long had the uneasy peace with the Thünderwölf Clan been maintained, that Biggs' first thought was to look inwards at the busy streets of Santa Nada for the perpetrator. He was getting to his feet and reaching for the alarum when a drumroll peppered his back. He staggered forward, his fingers brushing past the rope that would have rung the alert, and it was only just beginning to dawn on him that this was a viking assault when the bass kick slammed into him and flung his broken body off the wall and down into the marketplace below.
- - -
Klendel glanced back wistfully at the path the soldiers had taken. A group of men fearing their own deaths were always juicy fodder, but Harmon had quite decisively headed in the opposite direction as soon as he had identified them. As interesting as the potential mayhem of battle was, this woman had it trumped. Cascala was still following dreamily behind them, and the skittish throng of pedestrians parted around the trio like a stream around a rock.Harmon had homed in on a commercial district and was peeking into this store and that, never seeming to find what she was looking for. Klendel kept a keen eye on her reactions, trying to piece together what she might be seeking. He could always ask her, still having his question, but he knew well enough that it was best not to ask questions unless you had a good idea what the answer was going to be. More than a means of gaining information, they were just one more lever with which to shift a mind. Still, after the fourth apothecary that she withdrew from empty-handed, he was becoming impatient.
“Doctor Harmon,” he started in, waiting for her to come out of her thoughts and focus on him before continuing, “the street layout here has intriguing implications.”
“What do you mean?”
“The road we've been on as we have been visiting all of these charming shops has been curving quite steadily to the left, but all of the cross streets have been meeting it at right angles. Not your standard grid layout, more like-”
“A polar plot, yes, I see what you mean. So you're saying it has a center. It's probably just the seat of government, a piddling castle to go along with all this medievalness.” Harmon flopped her hand dismissively at the surroundings. She was in mid-eye-roll when a hand clamped down tightly on her wrist. She gave a small yelp and turned to find Cascala standing uncomfortably close and staring up at her with an unhinged intensity.
“The song! Can't you feel it? It connects everything and all connections lead back to it! It is building to a crescendo, and we must add our voices. Come!”
The mage turned crisply away and started striding down a side street towards the interior of the city, dragging Harmon along behind. The physicist shook herself free, crying “Fine! Fine!” and continuing to follow behind, with Klendel bringing up the rear. Harmon thought that perhaps she was truly picking up on something, some power underlying this world, and if it had a locus that she might be able to harness it. Klendel, for his part, was just glad that something interesting was finally happening.