I was lost in the Mirrored City, deep in the Lamris Ward.* (The City of Mirrors is modelled after the city of old London and Prague and Paris. The City of Mirrors is composed of Wards built from the corpses and sacrifice of the Dead Gods after whom they are named. Lamris is the God of of Obedience and the Underworld: called the Hooded Lord. And the Lamris ward is Graveyard District.) This is what I get for committing to my role as a psychonaut. My mentor, the Sleeper, had sent me into the Mirrored City. This was the lion’s den, the realm which embodied the Hungry Empire at the height of its power. And here I was in the center of the narrow crowded streets of the Lamris Ward, searching for a runaway clerk of Gildguld.
Gildguld was one of the Dead Gods whom the Locust King had enslaved. Gildguld served as the god of tax Collectors. The runaway clerk had reached out to one of the Sleeper’s other agents. They wanted to defect to the Resistance. The clerk has stolen a collection of ancient Hymn books of the God of Tax Collectors. And more valuable than the hymn book, the clerk also had a much older reliquary. The Sleeper said that they didn’t know the exact nature of the reliquary. But they could sense the reliquary’s significance and power. The clerk was willing to hand both over in exchange for protection.
And so here I was, lost in the Mirrored City. And worse, something was hunting me. I had spent the last few hours evading the constant patrols from the Men of Black and White. But this was different. I had glimpsed a huge leonine shadow projected on walls several times as I stalked the streets. The Mirrored City was filled with monsters. Seeing the shadow once would have meant nothing extraordinary. Seeing the shadow twice was worrying. But now, as I spotted the shadow for a sixth time, I knew that I was being tracked by something big and old. The shadow passed from the building as the creature entered the light: the bakumera.
The bakumera is a huge lion-like monster with an alligator’s skin and a snake for a tail. The monster wore a metal mask with the face of a child. I’d encountered it once before. The bakumera was old and dangerous and utterly relentless.
“Why can’t this ever be easy?” I muttered to myself. I swept my mind back to the beginning of this disaster to try and get a sense of how I could proceed.
This had all started at a celebration of the Awakening of First Mother. The Sleeper loves to ruin my days off. I had been watching the local theater. The performance was First Mother’s negotiations with the Weaver. One of Three Unknowable, the Weaver is an entity of inestimable power. Through the Last Princess’s agreement with the Weaver she became the First Mother. And as First Mother, she went on to found the first tribe. I was watching the whole process. As the princess made her deal with the devil, I heard a familiar voice behind me.
“We have a defector.”
I turned around to see the Sleeper wearing the body of a middle aged heavy set man with an enormous mustache.
“Hello teacher. Here to ruin my day off again?”
“You are no longer in the shallows. There are no days off. Further, I expect you will be interested in this. The defector is a clerk of Gildguld is seeking asylum. The clerk has been named as tribute to Falsenight. She is desperate to escape before she is sacrificed. She has valuable items with which to barter her escape.”
“Artifacts and reliquaries?”
“Just so. What she offers includes a reliquary. Archmage St. Pierre has divined it to be part of the lost collection. It is one of the items Churchill Ravana took when he escaped.”
“We have a line on the location of Churchill Ravana?*” (In a previous misadventure, Freeman helped Archmage St. Pierre and his apprentice Brewmaster Bobby Indra evacuate their tower during a siege by the Men of Black and White. The Archmage’s other apprentice, one Churchill Ravana, betrayed the group to the Men of Black and White. And the entire group and their cache of artifacts and reliquaries nearly became the property of the Locust King. Freeman likes to think of himself as a pragmatic man, but he clearly holds grudges. )
“Possibly. But I suspected that you would wish to pursue any lead on the traitorous apprentice. This given your past history with the man. And so I brought this to you first.”
I sighed, “You thought correctly.”
“But,” I said after a moment’s thought.
“But?”
“Is there much of a point in doing this? Hilly’s not likely still nearby. He probably bartered for his freedom using some or all of the artifacts and reliquaries that he stole.”
“Agreed. But the artifacts and reliquaries themselves are worth the effort. They act as a force multiplier for the wizards of the resistance*(When referring to the Wizards of the Shadowlands, the Resistance isn’t meant in the simply political or military sense. The Resistance is philosophical- spiritual in nature. The Wizards hold that all design and order in the universe is the result of the entity known as Mother of Discord. She is an Elder as powerful and as ancient as the Three Unknowable: The Firebird, The Weaver, and the Great Serpent. She is also the anthropomorphic embodiment of entropy. As she orders the universe, making life possible and giving a foothold for stories to be told, she slows it down. She causes the flame to burn a little lower. She is the timer on everything and the inescapable deadline. Her end is necessary. But the Grey is hers as well. An anachronistic Elder torn from its proper place and time near the end of the Flame, her great grandchild has been driven mad by its time in the age of light and heat. And it seeks to accelerate the return of the Dark Era from which it was pulled. The Grey seeks to make the universe cold and ordered and still. And this is what the Wizards resist. They fight to prolong the burning of the Flame.).”
“True, but that isn’t what you dangled in front of my eyes to get me interested.”
“I expected that you would wish to pursue any lead on Ravana’s whereabouts, even a tenuous one. I may also point out that we have a duty. We are wizards. And we help anyone escape the empire. We must if we are to fulfill our role in the story and maintain the favor of the sacred story.”
“And there you go drawing the attention of the story. I was going to do it anyway, you didn’t need to play dirty.”
“I am an Elder of the story. There is nowhere that I walk that is not within the gaze of the story. You should not ask if the story has noticed you. As my pupil, it has always noticed you. You should be asking if the story looks upon you fondly. For if the story judges you and finds you wanting, not even my protection can keep you safe. You must now live boldly. You must act heroically. You must overcome your fear and leap into danger. You must trust in the story to keep safe- or the story will devour you whole and spit your bones out to feed the narrative.”
“Well crap*(Has anyone else noted that this seems to be Harbinger’s favored expletive?),” I paused, “No, this is good. This is what I signed up for. This is good.”
“Are you trying to convince yourself?”
“Yes. I’m trying to lie well enough that the story makes it true.”
“You’re learning.”
“Yeah, I’m learning to lie to myself as I march into certain death. So do I have any back up, or is it just me?” I asked.
“it is just you. But I am not sending you unarmed. We will provide you with a reliquary and two artifacts for this task, given the danger of this task.”
“I actually get some kit. That’s a nice upgrade. Are these the benefits of protagonisting?*(I’m pretty sure that’s not a real word.)”
“They are necessities. You are known now. Your adventures have resulted in you becoming well known to the Men of Black and White. Throughout the major realms, the Knights know your name.”
I raised an eyebrow and the Sleeper handed me a wanted poster with my face and the name Professor Harbinger on it.
“I’m not a professor.” I said.
“You may take it up with the Empire. They did not consult me on the copy.”
I chuckled, “Was that a joke teacher? You don’t do jokes.”
“I am very fond of jokes,” The Sleeper said. “But I understand if Elder humor does not translate well into a human perspective.”
“So I have a title now? I’m developing into a meme.”
“The story is taking note of your actions and weaving you into the tale. And you should be careful as a result. The more the story notices you, the less likely the story is to let you die. That does not make you safe. The story can do terrible things to you and keep you alive while doing it. Many have wished for death in vain after finding their place in the story.”
“So what do you recommend?”
“Commit yourself to a cause for which you would be willing to die. And not just die, commit yourself to a cause for which you would be willing to labor for eternity.”
“So what’s the plan?”
My mind snapped back to the task at hand. I looked at the clerk, one Samantha Pinch as we ran through the narrow streets of Lamris Ward. The buildings rose above us like a Dickensian canyon. Cobblestone corridors split and wound like mad centipedes. The Bakumera was still hunting us and, although I hadn’t told Pinch, I’d become lost.
“Well,” I said as we tried to move casually through the city streets. “We need to either get out of the city or find one of the hidden shrines. I have a spell that can get us out of here, but not with a giant lion beast nipping at our heels. So we run, and I shield you with my body if we get into combat.”
“You’d do that?”
“Well, not normally,” I admitted, “But my mentor gave me some trinkets. And one is a powerful reliquary: a vertebrate of the First Hero. And it absorbs a ridiculous amount of punishment on my behalf. So yeah, I’ll be tanking for you.”
“Any other tricks up your sleeve?”
“I have the ring of Li Jun Fan. It lets me punch like a freight train.”
“I assume that’s good.”
“It is. And I have the Crimson Cord.” I held up my left hand to show a bracelet made from a blood stained piece of twine. “It heals me on my command once every twenty four hours. The plan is that I am equipped to bodyguard you while we find our way out of this brick lined hell.”
“You have a spine bone, a ring, and a bracelet. Do you have a map?”
I chuckled and shook my head, “Wouldn’t that have been smart. No. I assumed you’d know the lay of the land.”
“I know the route from the boarding house where I slept to the office where I worked. That’s all you need to know in service to the Empire.”
“Fun life that,” I said, I then pointed at the bag slung over her shoulder. “Speaking of servants of the Empire, how by the Living Four did you get your hands on Heart of Saint Zotz? Stop me if I’m wrong, but he was a saint of the Quintuple Lords. The Quintuple Lords of Misfortune are part of the Eternal Court. The Empire is bloody protective of their captive Demon Court.”
“They are. But somebody must catalog the reliquaries and artifacts. Somebody must deliver the items when those in command request them. And sometimes the Lords speak to those humble servants through the items in our care. This time, the Quintuple Lords told me to flee. This time, they told me how to contact the Sleeper. And they told me what I could use to barter my freedom.”
“So the Lords of Misfortune are sabotaging the Empire?”
“All the Eternal Court of Summer hate the Empire, or so the Lords of Misfortune tell me. But they are constrained. They can take no action against the Empire. But like all demons and devils, they can tempt us poor mortals with their words. And I was corrupted by their tales of freedom.”
“Fair enough, I guess. But between us, there are four mystic items. So the Bakumera is probably tracking their mystical energy signatures and- wait.” I held out a hand and looked at a beggar nestled in the corner. The man was staring at us and rubbing a rosary of onyx and white quartz beads, “He’s using a monochrome rosary. That’s a street snitch isn’t it, he’s calling to the Knights of Purity. We’ve been spotted. Move!”
We began to run, not so much trying to get somewhere as trying not to be where we had been. The snitch had given our location, so we needed our location to change. We squeezed down narrow alleys stinking of acrid urine. We took arbitrary turns and traveled against the flow of foot traffic. Of course, neither of us knew the Lamris Ward well enough to navigate. And so we found ourselves in a quiet abandoned square with a water pump in the center of the crossroads.
And then I heard a rumbled growl.
I spun in time to see the mask of the bakumera split open. Three snakes burst from the human skull beneath the iron mask. I hammered Pinch in the chest with the palm of my hand, pushing her back and out of the way. The snakes sank their fangs into my chest and arms. Fire ran through my veins and the snakes’ poison entered my bloodstream.
“Trust the artifact. Trust the artifact,” I muttered. My back slammed into the ground and I clutched the crimson cord trying to activate its power. I felt strength push back against the poison, and pushed myself back to my feet.
I clenched my fist around the Ring of Li Jun Fan, “Time to be the protagonist.” and I punched the exposed skull of the Bakumera. The Bakumera screamed and reared up in response.
“Time to go! Time to go!” I yelled and grabbed Pinch by the wrist. I turned to run and froze as I saw the Men of Black and White step into the square. I looked for an escape route before they saw us. But before I was able to settle on a route, I saw a knight point an index finger in our direction.”
“Stop in the name of the King!”
“They have got to get a new tagline.” I muttered.
It felt as though we ran through the same streets we’d walked earlier. But it was hard to tell if we were retracing our steps as we ran in a panicked stampede.
“Which way?” I yelled as we ran.
“I told you I don’t know!”
“Well guess! At least you live here!”
“That way then!” Pinch pointed. And we swerved down a claustrophobic side street. Above us buildings appeared about to topple inwards on the street. We pushed aside people and even knocked over a fruit stand as we hurtled to who knows where.
“Sorry!” I yelled as the fruit seller shook a fist as she knelt to pick up her fallen fruit.
“Are we going anywhere?” Pinch yelled over the sound of our footfalls.
“You tell me, you picked this route.” I answered.
“Well do you at least have a plan?”
“Yes. It involves fleeing in panic and figuring the rest out later.”
“Wonderful. Wait!” Pinch skidded to a halt and stumbled beside her. Ahead of us loomed a massive rancid yellow body of water. We had reached the Lef River. The river split the Mirrored City in two, north to south. And we were backed up against the river with our pursuers at our back and the river at our front.
“Is there a bridge?” I asked.
“Not close.” Pinch pointed to a large stone bridge maybe two miles down the river.
“Okay, new plan. Give me the Heart of Saint Sotz! I’m going to try to use the Quintuple Lords to help us escape.”
“Is that safe?”
“Safer than doing nothing.” I answered.
Pinch scrunched her face, and then drew the petrified heart from her backpack and handed it to me.
I held the heart against my chest and focused my mind upon the Quintuple Lords of Misfortune.
“Lords of Misfortune, I call up one you. We need your aid.”
“You need aid,” Five voices answered in chorus, “But do you need our aid? Do you want our aid?”
“We have no other options. And so we call upon you.”
“So be it. Let us hope you do not regret your decision.”
The air shimmered. And, as if summoned, the Knights of Purity burst from the alley behind us.
“Well crap.” I muttered, and then the bakumera emerged from another alleyway with a roar.
“Crap crap crap,” I said as Pinch and looked around wildly for cover or an escape route.
And then the sickly looking water began to swirl. Mustard colored mists began to flow over the cobblestones from the river.
“What is that?” I asked.
Vaguely shaped forms of weeping ladies began appearing from the mists. Pinch’s eyes widened, “The Bridge Lady has noticed us. Gongin* (When The Locust King first carved out the Mirrored city upon the Lef River, he found two great Water Spirits inhabiting the dark waters. Gongin was the great river monster who guarded the Crossing of the River. She was slain and swallowed whole by Falsenight. Gongin was deemed too powerful to be mapped to any ward of the city. Nonetheless, her sacrifice transformed her into a Dead God. And although her presence is not officially acknowledged, the Locust King allows her story to circulate unofficially as evidence of why none should oppose the Manifest Destiny of the Hungry Empire. She is a bogey monster who haunts and hunts the bridges and ferries that cross the River Lef.), one of the unchained gods of the city is manifesting!”
“Okay. I officially regret this decision!”
Pinch shook her head, “Your idea didn’t work. It’s my turn. Gongin can be dangerous, but she can be negotiated with. She can be appeased.”
I nodded, “Ok, I can see that. My teacher is one of the Four Unknowable. So I’d be a hypocrite to say that’s a crazy idea. How do you appease a giant sea monster who hates humans?”
Pinch grabbed a piece of broken glass from the ground and jammed it into the meat of her forearm, “With blood.”
“Well crap.”
Pinch grimaced and then yelled, “Gongin, Lady of Bridges and Taker of Tolls, I call to you! Protect me!”
“Us!” I said, “Protect us!”
Pinch blanched, “I’m sure that she understood what I meant. I mean probably?”
As she spoke, a truck sized crab leg extended from the water and snapped out. The leg struck me in the chest, ending me hurtling back against a bollard. The impact drove the wind from my lungs and I struggled to breathe.
“Apparently. Apparently. She didn’t understand.”
From my seat at the back of the fight, I watched as Gongin emerged from the churning waves of the river. She loomed bigger than the boat house. Six arthropod limbs dragged her up onto the land. The knights opened fire on Gongin, and she turned towards them.
I took cover behind an overturned beach ferry boat. But the river monster’s enormous chitinous claws gouged scars in the stones. The Men of Black and White scattered backwards. The beast opened its arthropod jaws and bit a knight in two at the ribcage. Massive squid tentacles rose up from the waters and snatched another two knights.
“What is Gongin built from,” I said to myself, “the nastiest bits of every aquatic nightmare?”
I watched with a smile, and then noticed two tentacles reaching for me. I looked around for better cover as the tentacles snaked towards me. There was nothing else within running distance. I grunted in frustration. Then I dropped flat and squeezed myself under the overturned ferry boat. Wood creaked as I belly crawled to a space where I could sit up. The creaking became screaming and groaning as the tentacles buffaloed into the boat. The world around me shook like a six point earthquake. I kept crawling and reached the cavity, finding myself trapped there with a Knight of Purity.
The Knight stared at me as the boat shook, rocked by Gongin’s tentacles.
“Hi,” I said cautiously. “Given the circumstances, can we agree to a temporary ceasefire? You know, given we’re both hiding from our common threat? You can try to kill me once we survive this?”
“There is no respite for heretics and traitors.” The Knight said and drew his heavy back sword.
I dropped to my back and tried to shuffle back out the way I came. But the Knight lunged, and I found myself pinned with a sword to my throat.
“I admire your dedication,” I said, “But are you thinking this through?”
“I will purify you,” The knight responded, “If I die, I will have done my duty.”
“Well crap.”
I had seconds. Out of options, I closed my eyes and made a silent prayer to the Quintuple Lords of Misfortune.
Their chorused voice responded in my mind, “Out of options we see.”
“I need a bargain,” I responded.
“Before you asked for help. Now you seek a bargain.”
“Let’s say that I wasn’t able to make effective use of your help. I need the certainty of a bargain.”
“A seller’s market now, it appears.”
“Tell me about it. What are your terms? Before my head isn’t part of the bargain.”
“Are you not afraid to deal with a Demon Lord?”
I managed to wedge my forearm between the backsword and my throat, “Deal with Devils and not with Gods…”
Blood trickled from my forearm as the knight pushed the blade forward.
“And are you not afraid to deal with the Quintuple Lords of Misfortune?”
“Misfortune is an old friend.”
“Then we agree. Our price in exchange for our assistance is one favor in return at a time of our choosing.”
“What kind of favor?”
“A favor of our choosing at that time.”
“Well, that gives you all the cards in the agreement.”
“People with swords to their throats are not in good bargaining positions.”
I nodded, “Fine. I agree and I accept the bargain.”
“So be it.”
The presence of the Lords of Misfortune faded from my awareness. And I waited. Or rather, I continued to wrestle with the knight. And then the ground rumbled. The boat lifted into the sky. The knight and I both froze and looked up, Gongiin had snatched the entire boat, which now dangled in the air above us. A moment later, Gongin reached out another of her enormous tentacles and grabbed the attacking knight. The knight rose into the air, and the tentacle retracted. Gongin caught the knight with her arthropod mouthparts and swallowed them whole.
I scrambled out from under the shadow of the boat and looked around. The Bakumera had killed the other knights and was devouring their corpses. I looked around, and spotted Pinch huddled in a corner. I rushed over and, grabbing Pinch, I dragged her behind a stone chimney.
I spoke an incantation. And bubbles engulfed both of us and we began to rise.
As we rose, Pinch looked over at me, “Why didn’t we use this before?”
“They’re bubbles. They are fragile and slow. We couldn’t use them until we weren’t being followed by men with firearms.”
“And then we floated off as safe as can be.”
“And indebted to the Quintuple Lords,” The Sleeper commented.
“Yeah, I’m not looking forward to how the Story uses that against me.”
“Against? Student, you are a significant part of the story at this point. The Story will not use your debt against you. It will use both you and the debt you owe in service of the story itself. It may even use that debt to deliver Churchill Ravana into range of your blade.”
“Bloody Grin* (Harbinger previously attuned himself to the ancient sword known as Bloody Grin. The Blade famously manifested as the Muramasa, and is best known by that name. The blade, unlike most artifacts, has its own will and its own intelligence. And with that will, Bloody Grin will fight its wielder for control of their body. Blood Grin desires nothing more than bloodshed, and will stop at nothing to achieve. Harbinger could have called upon this during the previous adventure, but Blood Grin would likely have killed Pinch in the process.) isn’t mine. If anything, I belong to it.”
“Well noted. Keep that in mind while St. Pierre studies your prize and looks for signs of Ravana. Until then remember that the Story has a sense of humor.”
“In other words, the Story will use it to torment me at a point of highest drama.”
“Of that we have no doubt. Still, we must congratulate you. You have done well. And the imperial bounty on your head has risen coincident with your achievements. The reward for you has risen to exemption from tribute for two cycles.”
“Exemption from the tribute?”
“Indeed. The bureaucracy now fears you. They fear you so much that they are willing to offer the ultimate bribe. They offer to shield citizens from Falsenight. All this to achieve your capture or your execution.”
“It’s not really a shield though is it? I mean the tribute turns upon the empire at the end of every cycle of darkness. The Empire always devours its own.”
“Of course. But the slaves must dream of freedom, or they will cease to labor for the empire. This is true even if the freedom offered arrives only in the afterlife.”
“I’m never going back to my life in the shadows. Am I?”
“You must tell me that. I cannot choose for you. But do you want to?”
“No. But I feel as though I should.”
“Those are the chains of the empire clanking as you speak.”
“I know. But I still feel it.”
“And that is the challenge. The final test of the psychonaut.”
Professor Harbinger's School for Villains 