Summoned:
Book 1 - An Accidental Adventure
In a location, another world, or maybe even another dimension. Which is very far from our own, the Apocalypse has already come and gone. In its wake the decedents of the survivors do their best to eck out an existence. Always under the threat of extra dimensional demons and creatures that exist in the ‘Missing Matter’ that scientist have always theorized to exist.
A mad genius on that planet managed to reach into that quantum realm and brought back the Great Demon Lords and their Minions. Now, with the quantum realm breached, technology and even physics in many areas has surrendered to the Chaos that has engulfed the realms.
Centuries later another enigmatic genius is attempting to revive the fallen Great Generals that had risen up in fighting the Evil Hordes of Chaos. But the Generals life forces, what we would call souls, had already fled their bodies. So he pushed his apparatus and skills further into the Aether to grab a hold of what he thought was the fleeing souls of the Generals.
This would begin the accidental adventure of Nicholas and his friends Chris, James, Felix, and Malachai. As they wake up in a realm not their own. In bodies foreign to them. Not even fully human as well. Unfortunately for them, unlike in so many fantasy settings they knew of, none of them even spoke a whit of language they knew. Worse than the Travels of Gulliver back in their Home World, Nick and Crew find themselves embattled in a very real place where any minute of every day could be their last.
A real adventure indeed.
Summoned:
Book 1 - An Accidental Adventure
Prologue i
Songs have often been sung of battles Great and Small. Of the Villains and Heroes. Those who won versus those who have lost. In many of these bardic tales a person can find almost any example of humanities challenges. There are very few battles through that can encompass every aspect of humanities challenges as one all inclusive tale. This was one such battle, one of the great spun tales to pass down through the ages. To be told verbally in writing or broadcast on one of the few Tri-D stations still recording on station would not do it the full justice that was required of such a story.
In this battle the Legendary Generals of Humanities last stand were gathered. They had finally baited one of the Scourges from beyond the Void that had wrecked devastation upon the civilizations of the planet known to the local inhabitants as Sandax. Which is also, loosely translated their term for earth or ground. Each of these scourges had claimed great swaths of land covering much of the main continent of Sandax. The Fell Beings they were fighting was an unholy melding of flesh and technology bred of chaotic energies found beyond the Void of Matter and Space. In their Stupidity this particular evolution of humanoids had discovered a way to look into the missing space of matter and energy. Into a place of the Void. Past the equivalency of the Holography of the Universe that they knew as material beings. In that place, the end of all and the Abyss of Time there Demons lay. Beings that had prior to this event had only leaked into the humanoids subconscious and the worst of their nightmares. This scouting had allowed the Demons to piggyback through the rift and to inhabit the flesh and neural matrix known as the physical body thus ejecting the prior inhabiting spiritual matrix.
The experiments of this began as a type of Anti-Matter research. Something to solve the energy crisis of the planet. The opponents, and truthfully many of the proponents, of this technology proclaimed that only annihilation would occur. For many of the survivors this would have been an infinitely more preferable outcome to what ended up actually happening. Which was Demonic Possession and a War so vast that it literally remade the surface of the planet they called home.
While all of this was going on the people found that Technology, and in some cases even physics were not functioning as they should. That the very constants that they had worked for ages to discover and understand had been stood up on its collective head. In some pockets of land electronics of any type would not function. Other locations it was chemical combustion. Some places photons lost their wave form and only maintained their particle nature. Regardless of which aspect it became difficult for any side to maintain not only a standing army but also the civilization necessary to support it. This gave an incredible advantage to the Demonic Forces initially. Until one of the disciples of the first Scientist to discover this altered dimensional activity learned to merge technologies and energies together to enhance a being. These first Technomancers as they came to be known became the populaces last hope as they would take Volunteers and give them powers or enhancements that would allow them to fight the Demons form the Void on their own terms. Even if it did have the result of making these people more or perhaps completely different than their base race.
In response to this rose the great Demon Lords. The Strongest of which could now pull new Demons from the void at their need or their want. That was when the forces of civilization knew they were well and truly ‘Screwed’. Luckily for them, through the ranks of the ‘Created’ and the ‘Enhance’ came a few score of the Great Generals after centuries of warfare. Individuals able to take on all but the Greatest of the Demon Lords. Out of these Great Generals came a dozen Legendary Champions. Strong enough to hold their own against the those most powerful of enemies. They were Strong, Fast, Capable, Forceful, Mighty, Powerful, Charismatic, and more. Everything that was needed to be a Paragon of those remaining peoples with the will to survive. They were here in what could be considered the Eleventh Hour of that Era’s need. Each had reached deep into the well of Energy they drew from going from a figurative beacon of light into a Literal Shining Start. Each of their lights corresponding to the aspect that they drew upon, be it love or anger, longing or grief, joy or excitement. The power of their primary emotions allowed the connection that even showed strong in the physical realm around these Champions leaving trails of power in their wake. As their Brilliance doing battle against the Darkness that was swallowing their planet.
That was happening today. In the streets and buildings of one of the great Megalopolis’s. A great city, now destroyed. A testament to the peoples of this planet. The Denizens and citizens of this city watched, or the smarter of them ran, as Godly beings did battle above and below. Seeking what shelter they could as the multiple forces of many armies took the field causing their own death and dismemberment. Even if it was just an echo of their leaders grand show.
On the field could be found every disciple of fighter. The soldiers, runners, pounders, engineers, slingers and slammers. The seers and the Summoners. Rangers and scouts running force recon and sniping. Every type of being imaginable had taken the to the field. Yet they still were an afterthought against the Demons that seemed to rule the land. Demons such as Braashend the Reshaper, a grotesque multi-limbed monstrosity that seemed to be an amalgam of far too many creatures. Or Crens the Temptress who was as beautiful as she was terrifying, and her champion of light who had fallen from grace Mule Enstrand the Turned. Who was once a great Champion himself but tempted to the Void and in his weakness had taken up her torch.
Things would have been bad enough with only these three Great Demon Lords. However the absolute worst of them had shown itself and tipped the balance towards destruction and corruption.
Xentul the Devourer had taken the field.
A creature that was not truly on any side but its own. More of a force of entropy than anything else. Its horde of biomechanical Ravagers followed. Each having a tendency to absorb the remains of the fallen to turn their cadavers or technology into yet more Ravagers. The Generals had timed this battle on the intelligence that Crens and Xentul were both on the other side of the continent. That they would only be going after Braashend. Yet somehow the others had shown up. Turning a potential conquest that was much needed into a route that the Legendary Generals had been giving their lives one after another to make sure that the greatest number of civilians had a chance to retreat.
The only enemy of humanity to not take the field seemed to be Alasan Soreno. The First Summoner. The originator of the Contract with the Void. The first individual who had discovered a pathway to the Energies Beyond the Heat Death of the Universe. The engage interaction with beings or alien sentience’s outside of what mortals could contemplate without going completely insane. No one had encountered the Infamous Summoner in over an age. There were rumors of course. Such as his finally crossing over into the Void himself or becoming a mindless Ravager in his attempts to blend Oblivion to his own will. Perhaps he had been lost during a titanic battle such as the current location had become on the other side of the continent just barely twenty cycles past. To the other Four Demon Lords this was no great matter that the Great Summoner was gone.
One of the several Legendary Champions of Humanity was already down. His energies sucked clean by the battle and his flesh sundered. Two other champions were attempting to hold of Braashend. While a third valiantly tried to save what she could of the downed Champion.
Below and beside all this was an old man. His robes and equipment marking him as some type of advanced technomancer or perhaps even a summoner. One of the rare individuals with training in affecting the quantum field and the Void energies from which the Demons gained their abilities. Utilizing patterns, forms, sounds, techniques, and gadgets they are able to do this. Their enhancements not only worn but also built into them with modified organs as well as technological mishmashes that conventional wisdom stated would not and could not work. Yet they did. Gears made of advanced clockworks, pressure vacuoles, digital touch screens, transister circuitry, DNA Computer control runs, molecular circuits, holo interface tech, and even analogue datastrip operations systems.
The forces around him seemed to ignore him as he wove through the chaos bred of the battle around. Whenever the forces of either side managed to get close he would wend his way around the debris or wander under a fallen pass or seemingly step into nothingness. His intense concentration on his task obvious on his grizzled old features. White, whispy, almost featherlike hair stood on end and moved in the breeze with his movements. He bore no facial hair, but it was more of a natural hairlessness rather than shaving if one was to look closely. Thin, almost non-existent eyebrows above slate gray deep set eyes completed his craggy face. He carried a wood and metal staff that was entwinned by various wires and a couple control interface panels near the main rubber handgrip. At the base of the staff was a brass bulb and opposite on the top was a jagged assembly of metal. The old man moved to kneel over a fallen form of an elfin looking man. The body was brutalized and torn in half. The poor mans expression a grotesque mask of fear and apprehension that was a testament to his final moments.
“Not the best material to work with here.” He said to no one in particular, his aged face wrinkled in disgust at the sight. “Not like there will be many good candidates left at this rate.” He chuckled quietly to himself at his own sardonic tone.
A sound made him look up from his inspection of the dead man. A clicking rock on metal clatter. The Old Man flicked his free hand in an odd manner that could not be performed by someone with all their knuckles in their normal socketed order. With a mutter his eyes glowed as if backlit by an electric diode. He then stepped up and backwards into a fold of nothingness leaving only the battle chattel on the ground.
Through the location where the old man had been standing a tall being moved. Flesh that may once have been handsome, now twisted into a grotesque horror of its own insatiable hunger. Sallow and pallid skin that could once have held a healthy tan now stretched and sagged. Here and there as the flesh had failed materials of all sorts had been used to repair the creature. Be it circuitry, hydraulics, servomotors, flesh of other creatures, or even gearworks. Whatever it could take it had in the living not-death that had to constantly feed or deteriorate even further. One eye had been replaced by an old styled camera lens with some extra electronics the other was a rheumy white within a decaying putrid yellow orb. The left hands flesh stretched taughtly over bones and metal struts that had been stuck inside haphazardly. A great rotting cloak of various patchwork skins covered much of the rest of its body and the creatures right arm. As it moved an observer would be able to make out bits and parts that fit together in no discernable fashion on its horrid body. A whirring and clicking of broken parts could be heard as it shambled along. Not like a well oiled machine but rather like some form of insectile automaton that was broken and still attempting to function even with its damaged parts.
The Old Man had known this creature.
Xentul the Devourer.
It stopped over the body and craned its head to one side. Not to different from a reptile or avian attempting to understand what it was looking at. Its artificial eye lens whirled around in its socket before popping open to allow an undamaged humanlike eye to extend on a servo arm and gaze closer at the deceased creature below it. As soon as it gained a proper vantage point Xentul stopped dead. All noise from it ceased, not a movement nor any sound for several heartbeats as The Devourer became as still as a statue. An instant later with an economy of motion that would have given a robotic servant a good run Xentul reached down and squeezed the right arm of the man off at the elbo with a sickening sound of crunching bones and squelching flesh. Once the partial limb was wretched free the being shrugged back its cloack some and moved its right arm into sight. The end of the arm looked like a hybrid prosthetic and flesh limb that had been run over by a boulder then left to rot in the sun. From the elbow joint down The Devourer allowed the material to slough off onto the ground next to the body. Then it took the dismembered arm and stuck the pulped joint onto the wreckage on the end of the part still attached. A grey sickly goop seeped out of its flesh and onto the fresh meat. This material joined the two dissimilar organisms enough to be connected. Even if only just so.
Xentul flexed its new hand clumsily a couple times. Apparently satisfied it gave what could only be interpreted as a contemptuous wave with its mangled left hand as it walked bast the battle offal. Once the Demon Lord disappeared out of view of the deceased and its own dropped body part the remaining gearworks in the limb began to sluggishly attempt to twitch and move to the body near it.
The Old Man stepped back into existence as if stepping in from another room. “Damn, I had hoped he was still engaged…” He said to himself absent mindedly as he looked down at the revolting limb piece, “Oh no you don’t!”
His staff began to buzz from within. A series of commands were tapped into the mechanical keypad on the staff. After which the chaotic design of prongs on the top of the staff began to flare with a red and purple fire. He pointed the projection at the arm fragment and torched it with the arcane looking flame thrower until it was nothing more than a slag of material melting into the earth below it.
“I am pretty sure that this fallen hero does not wish to walk once more as a Ravager.” He stated as he began to incinerate the body before he moved in a different direction than what Xentul had gone.
Once past the ashen remains of the fallen being the Old Summoners path more often than not brought him in contact with those already slaughtered or destroyed. Every now and then he was forced to fade into the InBetween like before to avoid detection as the battle or forces from either side came tromping through. It also was not only the Demonic forces from the Void and their legions that he was avoiding, but also the forces of the fallen civilizations that he wished to evade. He knew what would happen if those forces of humanities gone past would do if they discovered he was more than the simple Technomancer that he pretended to many to be. After all though it had been many years since Alansan Soreno had created the First Summoning Event the term was still forever tainted in the view of the various civilizations. Alienating all who had felt the inexplicable call of the path of the Summoner. As such he did his absolute best to avoid everyone and everything as he went about his tasks.
Eventually he came upon the fallen body of one of the Great Generals. As he moved slowly to her side he watched another champion nearby engage the still moving Xentul.
“Stupid… you should retreat.” He said towards the Champion under his breath even as he knew that the exemplary fighter could not hear him.
He kept part of his attention on the two embattled beings in case their battle came near. The Demon Lord had manifested a great fell sword made of a fearful melding of ruined metals and still living flesh. Its counterpart was matched by an extremely fit man with braided hair wielding a long sword made of light created seemingly in his own hands. The Old Man saw that the two of them appeared to be moving roughly away from him and as such he put his attention closer to the woman on the ground.
“There may yet be time.”
The tall fair skinned woman was not breathing. A grievous wound in her gut that opened her up from right hip all the way up through the left portion of her ribcage. Internal organs and bones on display to the exposed air around them. Her vibrant hair was plastered with blood and a stark contrast as her skin drained of color. He placed a circular device on her chest above the right breast. Its copper and iron works would seem to be strangely complementary to the Emerald metallic style markings on her body. Once in place the disc shot out four appendages at the compass points around its surface. They turned downward and sunk into the pliant flesh with very little blood flow from the puncture points. After he was satisfied with it the Old Man concentrated and his eyes began to glow as if backlit once again. The clockworks on the device started to spin up, their whirring intensified and lessened as if to the beat of a heart. With every cog styled heartbeat her body became more and more translucent until she faded entirely from view.
Once done the Old Man stood up and looked over at the battle which seemed to once more be drifting his way. “Damnation. I hope I can retrieve at least another few before they are too desecrated beyond recovery.”
With that said he once more stepped backwards into the InBetween. Once there the combatants rampaged through the space he had occupied never knowing that he had been there.
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End Prologue i
Post Note -
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Summoned:
Book 1 - An Accidental Adventure –
Prologue ii
Authors Notes -
Nope. This chapter doesn't take place in the gnarly realm with that Old Man. Here are some more character introductions.
I'm trying for a once a week chapter. Usually friday or saturday, but who knows what life brings. I've got this story pretty much finished and transcribing, but I'm not gonna post it all at once as it is still in very (very very) rough format. Gots lots of stuffs to do in it before I'm completely happy!
Don't forget to like the story and go to my patreon link at the end to get access to new chapters and also to exclusive artwork and previews before I post here and other places on the interwebs!
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“Hey Nick! What demented asinine brain jerky inspired dungeon crawl do you have planned for us this weekend?” Chris Hodges asked his gamer geek friend and sometimes co-worker Nicholas Anderson. Chris himself was a self styled average guy. Around six feet tall, around a hundred and eighty pounds. Average cut brown hair and average brown eyes that set in a reasonably average Caucasian frame. In fact Chris went to some lengths to stay that way. None of his friends, both geek and chic, understood why. Especially since his personality and presence made him stand out in almost every crowd. As well as his constantly being in the middle of most anything going on. Luckily for them he was also a very likable individual not to mention pretty handy in a crunch.
Currently he and his friend Nick worked at the local Best Buy consumer electronics store. Which was great for both of them as they were able to get first pick of great items that came through the damaged or clearance bins. After all, neither of them truly cared if an Xbox came back with a damaged disc reader. Both could repair simple electronics at need.
Nicholas was a bit shorter and definitely the more flamboyant of the pair. He was just as, if not more, energetic than Chris. Though where Chris enjoyed being in the center of any goings on, Nick was more of a prankster and joker than the more serious mind Chris.
“You have the manners of a baboon with a serious sinus infection.” Nick said with a pompous sniff. “Seriously, ‘assinine brain jerky?’ I will have you know that I am serving our dungeon from a nicely chilled platter of Posterially Challenged Salad. Fresh and Crispy with critters and a potential side of Obtuse Opossum for good measure.”
Chris pinched the brow of his nose as he groaned with his eyes screwed shut. “Oh good lord. Not the Morks again. Seriously who let you watch that Futurama movie?”
The shorter of the two responded with a chuckle as he shook his head. “No, not the Morks this time my good friend. But you gotta admit, they were funny.”
“No they weren’t Nick. They Just.. Would… Not… Shut…Up! If I hear one more MindyMindyMindyMindyMindy or Nanu Nanu it’ll be too soon.” He turned away from his friend to do some straitening on the shelves. “And did you honestly have to set up a Sound Board for that session? I mean… Really?”
Nicholas’s reaction was a silent and rather self gratified grin. Which only caused Chris to groan once again. The two of them had to cease their conversation then as a customer came within the range where they could not professionally ignore her. As Nick went off to great the woman Chris contemplated their friendship. No matter how much he and the others may bemoan some of the poor taste of Nicks jokes or puns they still did enjoy their gatherings and games.
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Across the town in one of the many grocery store chains another member of their small yet dedicated group was plying his way through the aisleways in search of various foodstuffs. Sometimes muttering to himself and at others actively seeming to be talking to himself. At least until an observer saw the tiny Bluetooth earbud in one ear.
“No. Yes, yes. They’re out right now. Got it. What? Of Course. No, I’ve got that too.” Was his portion of the conversation that was in response to a list of goods being inquired of. “Look Mom, I have the list you texted me. I can’t figure out what you want that’s not on the list nearly as easily on the phone. Why don’t you just text me an updated list?”
He stopped moving as he paused to listen to her. “Yes, I know you like to hear my voice and want to talk. But I need to keep to my schedule as well."
James Wethers was an orderly man. The grocery cart in front of him was a testament to this in the way every item was neatly arranged and set up. Heavy canned goods stacked on the bottom near the back of the cart, other higher weight items that had a resistance to crushing to the front. On top of those in the next layer was any boxed goods. Perishables above those and all of the frozen goods pulled together to maintain their temperature. The largest item was a heavy fifty pound bag of rice underneath the cart.
His appearance looked quite in line with the way he set his cart.
Tall and heavyset, more stocky than fat. Not too much muscle definition but moving with a sort of grace that only a landslide could show. Only the beginnings of a belly starting to show in his otherwise large frame. James did not quite yet have a second chin, but the makings for one could already be seen under his strong jawline. He was sharply dressed and very well groomed. Though he would never be considered a very good looking man, James felt it important to never be accused of being unkempt. At twenty two years old he had a lot of career options once he finished his college and vocational training in his home town of San Diego. This in conjunction with his constantly being at his mothers beck and call made for a bit of a dearth of dating material. The upside was in the savings tha the found and extra free time to pursue his schooling and hobbies.
Between the scholarships, grants, and college savings from his parents James did not to put out a dime for higher education. His entire course was set for a PhD in Space Robotics and Electronics specializing in automated control systems. One of the few conditions that assisted in this so has to help defray costs and gain more financial support was to live at home with his mother and share vehicles.
His father had been a ships design engineer for the US Navy before passing to cancer a few years ago. James felt the pull to follow in his fathers footsteps. Though it was to design for space rather than nautical designs. Everything he did reflected the very orderly house he was raised in. Where he had doubled down as the man of the house as his fathers health had faded rather than follow the more classic rebellion against their parents upbringing and wishes.
The one social weakness that James had in his own eyes was his inability to stop gaming with his childhood friend Nick. The two of them had been as unlikely a pair as any. Especially as Nick was spontaneous, disorganized, impertinent, and drifted life with nary a care to his own future. His spur of the moment methodology often caused distress to James’s comfortable routines. To make matters worse was that Nick seemed to have an intuitive ability to be where things would benefit him. Sort of a Homer Simpson grade of luck. Where James had needed to work hard in school to get a good test score Nick would game late the night before and show up exhausted to still ace the tests. James needed to share his ride with his mother, Nick on the other hand managed to sneak in and grab a decent car for next to nothing as it needed some simple electrical work done. They really were almost complete antithesis of each other. Yet even if they did often gripe and bicker like a pair of grumpy old men they were still great friends who managed to spend a lot of their free time together.
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In one of the many outdoor park style campus study areas at the San Diego State University sat a pair of smaller guys. In front of them on the park bench table was an eclectic selection of books stacked or placed rather haphazardly. The material varied from advanced chemistry to aerospace engineering principles to composite compression analysis and even a couple books on medieval weapons crafting. There was even a book on Bushido, the ancient ways of the Samurai from Japan.
“And I’m telling you Malachai, you CAN bring a sword to a gunfight and win. There are many plausible scenarios.” Felix stated with an air of both slight exasperation and overconfident braggery.
The young man was small and wiry. Possessing a compact frame that seemed to be bursting with energy. His darker olive skin spoke to his Mediterranean ancestry while his nearly black curly hair begged to be tasseled by any passerby or close friend. Internally he didn’t even mind that he was often mistaken for any of the eastern Mediterranean countries or even those of full Middle East heritage. The reality for him was that Felix was a Euro-mutt with no way to know the full set at all. Instead what he cared about was having his facts straight and winning confrontations in the most unconventional or bizarre ways possible. As such he frequently studied just about every conventional or standard way to tackle challenges. Be they in real life or in some made up fantasy realm. In that way the little gamer munchkin found ways to frustrate whatever simple minded plebian who had been unfortunate enough to challenge his intellect.
What else could anyone expect from a youth by the name of Felix Tuttle after all? Which was also part of the whole classic geek slash nerd discussion of the Sword in a Gunfight Scenario that he currently found himself engrossed in.
Opposite of the intrepid gamer nerd sat a rather contrasting individual. Where Felix was energetically leaned forward and used his hands very emphatically to emphasize each and every point his friend Malachai sat nearly ramrod straight showing a complete physical reserve. From looks, attitude, and even accent one could mistake the two as having absolutely no common ground. Yet that was not accurate in the slightest. Malachai was a foreign exchange student from Romania to the East of Hungary and south of Ukraine. Pale olive tinged skin with light brown hair and sky blue eyes, he was also very fit. Athletic build of a runner or track star and looked equally as academically inclined. He was already far ahead of his current course curriculum. Normally full time college students only took four, maybe five courses at a time. Malachai was currently holding his own at eight courses. Even with that huge burden on his life he still found enough time to spend on interesting side projects like Felix’s current conundrum of the real life potentials of bladed weapons versus projectiles.
The reason that this odd companionships with one of the Campus’s poster boys of darkness instead of hanging around with any of the ‘In Crowd’ was because the youth had finally found proper mental stimulation there. He still maintained his physical fitness regimes that his parents had drilled into him many years ago which had centered on Gymnastics geared towards the Olympian standards. In fact it was that very sports program which allowed him his current schooling and life at the College. His specialty was the parallel bars, and though Malachai was very good he felt that he was only at state and national levels rather than the Olympic level his Ma and Pa had wished him to attain. That was only a matter of time according to his trainer however. Besides for Malachai at least he felt that the majority of the Olympian spotlight was currently on barely pubescent girls. A specific item that he thought was ridiculous as Gymnastics was not nearly much of a challenge for a person at that level of physical development and thus not a true competition. Sort of like a boxer fighting opponents under his weight class.
With that last thought in mind young Malachai often spent his free time in cerebral and often pointless debates with Felix rather than focusing on obtaining full Olympian status. Their usual discussions around the most recent Hollywood bullshit special effects fight that was pedaled to the general populous. So like some of their favorite shows like Mythbusters they would figure out realistic scenarios and equipment to se if there was an actual chance of victory. Such as archaic weapons versus modern firearms.
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“Yes sir, I understand.” Nick stated in a respectful tone.
“Make sure that you do Mr Anderson.” His manager responded in a rather authoritarian tone. One that always caused Nick to have to hide a laugh given his love of classic science fiction characters. “We here at Best Buy are dedicated to our customers satisfaction.”
Given that the perfunctory voice, rote answer, and standardized responses were a given for almost all employee problems Nicholas understood quite well. It was a classic case of Tow the Line or get out that all retail establishments used now a days.
“Yes, I will do my best to be more dedicated to our customers needs in the future.” He said to his manager not quite looking at the older man, making sure that he was using the correct pitch of apologetic and earnest that was required.
The other man quirked an eyebrow in a very space elf sort of way. “Even when you are ignoring one customer for another?”
That particular comment caused Nick to flinch just a little. “You saw that?” He blurted out before thinking. Just as quickly he realized what he had said just barely suppressed saying a classic ‘Doh!’
“Yes.” The one-word answer from his boss was a bit less by rote and much darker in tone. “Mr. Anderson… Nick. I’m going to be honest. If you weren’t so good at the upsell I would have let you go your first week. I don’t like your attitude, and you spend far too much time talking non work-related topics. With both your customers and your co-workers. How you manage to upsell most customers you help is beyond me, but if you continue to go against my policies then I don’t care if you sell good. I will let you go.”
His boss, Dave Russel, was a classic case of career retail manager. He ate, breathed, and slept for big corporate retail climbing. To the point that the man was huge on policy and procedure and much less on moral and well being. Nick felt that Dave was so disconnected from the real customer needs of retail reality that the man truly did not understand that it was exactly that extra time that was spent socializing that earned the sale. If the customer felt that they were being dealt with by a drone then they would just grab their item and go. By chatting with them about their jobs and entertainments Nick was able to steer the customers to other wants and needs they didn’t know they had. So what if it took ten to fifteen more minutes per sale. He needed several thousand in sales under his belt a week above the next best floor sales person. Which not incidentally was Chris who Nick often handed customers off to after he reached the weeks quotas.
“Is there anything else sir?” He asked. He really just wanted to get out from under the man’s disapproving gaze as fast as possible.
“Not at this moment.” Dave gave him a dismissive wave.
Grateful for finally being given permission to leave Nick hightailed it out of the office being careful not to slam the door. After all it wouldn’t be nearly as pleasant if he was called back in immediately.
In the back stock room outside of the Managers office one of Nick’s co-workers, Janelle, was leaning against the wall. The rather rat faced woman was posed in what Nick was sure that she believed would be considered casual. Of course he recognized it for what it really was.
Gloating.
“So, gotta turn your blue in finally?” She asked in her nasally and, at least to Nicks ears, whiny tone.
He took great pleasure in his response. “Nope! In fact Dave admitted I was the best salesman on the floor.”
“Person.” She corrected as she pushed off the wall to follow him into the breakroom where he was heading.
“What?”
“Salesperson.” Her voice was, as always, grating on Nicks nerves. “Salesman denotes that Women can not be in Sales.”
The old line she was spouting off was another thing that bugged Nick. He didn’t like gendertyping people either, but a slip of the tongue was just that. Besides he hated the way she used her politically correct agenda against every man that she could.
“Not this again Janelle.”
“It is attitudes like that that cause women to make less money an hour than you over privileged Men.” She almost bit out at him.
To say she was something of a feminist was similar to saying the sky was a little blue or the ocean was a little wet.
Nicholas resisted the urge to pinch the brow of his nose as he felt a familiar headache coming on. “You make more an hour than I do Janelle. And you haven’t worked here as long.”
“That’s because I had to work so hard at it! Because as a woman I have to work more than twice as hard as you do for the same benefits!”
Another thing that Nick and most everyone he knew could say about Janelle’s vitriolic rhetoric was that she was a bit brain washed by the party line.
Finally Nick had enough and turned to her just as he entered the break area. “If you worked half as hard on customer service as you do on reminding us how hard you have to work compared to a man then you’d probably give me some actual competition as best seller.” He baited her with the statement.
Normally he didn’t like to deal with this type of unfounded and regurgitated bigotry. Especially as her opinion was firmly fixed in her mind. She also happened to be one of those pleasant people that mistook her opinions for facts.
Janelle spluttered a little as her brain attempted to formulate a comeback that fit within her personal worldview. While she made a good impression of a fish out of water Nick made his way over to his lunch that had been left untended when it was interrupted by the dressing down he had received. Much to his dismay as he sat down he saw Janelle had followed him in. Technically she wasn’t even supposed to be in there as it wasn’t her scheduled break and she was on the clock. Yet she was also Dave’s favorite. Probably in large part because she was a good little bureaucratic kiss ass. So she was able to get away with things that would get Nick and most other employees a write up or even fired. As he didn’t have another job lined up yet and rent was always coming around the corner he couldn’t afford another bad note on his file.
“Janelle. As much as I would love to play point and counterpoint with you I really should clock back in and hit the sales floor.”
She turned with a huff and stalked out of the room.
“Great… I’m sure that’s gonna come back and bite me in the ass!” Nick quietly exclaimed to himself as he looked down to his half eaten
burger realizing he had lost his appetite.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End Prologue ii
Post Notes -
If you like my works consider donating to my Patreon so that I may be able to focus more time to write! (Otherwise life gets in the way. Pesky life stuffsssssss....)
So... anyhoo....
https://www.patreon.com/m/8816125(link is external)
Please at least check it out.
Summoned: An Accidental Adventure –
Prologue iii
Back in that other realm the Old Man worked in a room just as eclectic in form as he was. Due to the vagaries of the Quantum Event that had occurred on this planet it could be separated in Time, Space, or Both from the Universe in which it all started. It could also be neither, and it is just somewhere… Else. The dark location and the Old Man bustled with a strange otherworldy energy. It could be considered a bit of an odd description. Bustling in regards to the pulsating energy located within. Yet it was the most apt description at present.
The room was an Elipse in shape, filled with many machines and technologies from just as many era’s of their history. All of the equipment was connected together in one way or another by wires, tubes, fiber optics, directed energy relays, and even some DNA data transfer paths. The mish mash of gears alongside was even more diverse than the items connecting them. From analogue calculating machines and touch screen computers to cathode ray tube displays and even full holographic interface projections. On one counter against a wall there was even a living half of a bovine like head with several sets of wires and tubes protruding from the brain in its skull. The energized feeling in the room pulsed once, similar to the feel of a heartbeat waking up from a long rest. As if this all was a living construct standing up to meet the demands of the Old Man who was puttering around setting everything up.
Along the rooms center axis were seven beds. Made of similar to the other parts in the room. Their only similarity to each other was in that they all had flat tops perfectly arranged for holding a humanoid body.
Only two of the beds were occupied currently. The first was that of a red haired woman that had been recovered earlier that day from one of the battle fields that the Old Man had been scavenging through. She was stripped of any clothing or gear that may have had on in the field. Just her bare body and many cables and tubes running into various wounds covering her flesh. Apparatus hung from the ceiling where most of the equipment was connected to her. She was tall, easily a head and a half taller than the Old Summoner. Well formed muscle tone contrasting with a very obviously female frame. The deep strawberry red locks had been cleaned somewhat of blood and debris from the field, yet some of it still remained. It had recently been hacked to shoulder length from the uneven yet sharp hair ends. Pale fair skin currently ashen like that of a corpse. A smattering of freckles on her face shoulders and upturned breasts. There was a small privacy towel over her waist with a thicker pair of cables leading out from under it. Over her body could be easily discerned dark green metallic marks or perhaps solid tattoos. A pair of sharp and slim angular lines accentuating her jawline. Three slicker slashes of the marks under her breasts on each side of her chest each over one of her ribs. Two carefully etched geometric rings were on each upper arm. Her forearms sported a strange open centered oval and two trapezoid shapes on the back of each hand. Visible on her thighs were thick elongated triangles, two per thigh each sharp end pointing towards her kneecaps. A set of lines reminiscent of the slashes on her ribcage were crafted into her flesh around each calf. There were others most likely but they were not presently visible on her form.
A few tables down from her lay another body. Just as denuded of clothes as the first with the same privacy towel an array of miscellanea just as confusing as the other beings entered the more masculine body. He was shortish compared to the Old Man and with a torso too. His skin was a pinkish dusky rose tan crisscrossed with old and faded scars. He had a broad islander style of face, wide cheekbones and flattened nose. The sides of his skull were shaved or perhaps hairless, though he grew a near mane of very full hair starting high on the forehead all the way down to the nape of his neck. Shiny and raven black, it was in a long thick braid that would reach his well-defined calves if he was standing up. Two other main points of interest about him was a sort of cybernetic interface with ports built into his right pectoral muscle with several lights glowing dimly in it and one very thick cable from the array above plugged into it. Another item of note was the three metallic silver parallel stripes on each forearm about a fingers width wide starting on the outside of the arm to sweep across and down diagonally to end just before the wrist on the inside of the forearm.
Beyond those and the Old Man there was nothing otherwise in the room. Which included any possible door or even air recirculation systems. Not anything that could be used to enter or exit the room in any way.
The Old Man muttered something rather inaudible and began to fade much the way that he had gathered the womans body in the field earlier. With each heartbeatlike pulse of energies he faded further and further from view until he was gone. The pulsing energy of the room died down to only a slow trickle of motion once the room was vacated by anything moving. Some unknown time later the pulse livened again. A crackle from one of the devices sparked energetically and a sonic vibration pulsed along one of the tables. A thumping rhythm began with a gyrating whooshing like sound as a body of a large hulk of a person with granite like skin began to gain substance from the nothingness. Almost as wide as he was tall, the body was wrent and torn. One arm almost completely sundered from his form, inside clockworks, pistons, and brass works seemed to make up the interior skeletal structure. A gray powder seeped and seemed to ooze from the wounds in the skin. Nothing much remained of his clothing but it must have been from some type of military uniform. On his chest was a disk much the same that the Old Man had used prior.
Not long after the hulk finished materializing the Old Summoner began to fade into view.
“Wilheim, you fool. You knew better to take on Braashend.” He said sorrowfully to the prone body. He began muttering in an odd arcane language. The dirt and grime on the body began to absorb as an apparatus lowered from the ceiling like some deep sea horror part cetacean part insect that was readying itself to eat. It unlimbered some mechanical arms that began to repack the broken bodu back into a more correct form. Under the ministrations of this unit and the Old Man the body was unclothed and repairs begun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ Nick and Felix ~
Away from the Old Man and his strange technological amalgams and back in the San Diego State University campus Felix and his friend Nick were walking along. The two of them were discussing, well more of arguing, various points. Sort of a rambling argument that went from topic to topic. With its cadence as well as a lack of any actual aggression, it was clear to any outside observer that the two did this on quite a regular basis.
That is, until a bevy of the finer half of humanity walked out in front of them. As Felix maintained the conversation in full, Nick’s eyes enjoyed the sight of derriere on display in skinny jeans, yoga pants, and shorts. It took a few dozen paces until the shorter of the two even noticed the lack of conversational reply from his taller companion.
“Yo Nick.” Said with some irritation. “Earth to Nick. Hey Nicholas.” Felix kept up as he snapped his fingers loudly in front of his friend. “You know they wouldn’t give you the time of day so stop oogling."
The snapping did the trick with his friend and brought Nick out of his visually induced torpor. “Yeah, I know. But eye candy is still eye candy.” He patted Felix patronizingly on the shoulder as he continued, “I’ll explain it some day when you get fuzz on your chin.”
Felix had a rather scoffing tone to his reply. “Whatever man. I’m the one who’s dating a Cheerleader, remember?”
“Dude, she’s in high school. Doesn’t count.”
“She’s eighteen. Does count.”
Nick shook his head at his friend. “You know that as soon as she gets into colleges he’s gonna dump you, right?”
With a sigh, “Yeah, you right.” Then the smaller man perked up noticeably. “But until then, I’m the one dating a cheerlearder. Don’t you forget it.” By the end of his statement Felix was grinning like a fiend.
As Nick was about to reply with what he felt was a witty rejoinder his cell phone start to ring out the tune to ‘In the Navy’ by the Village People. He didn’t let it get too far into the chorus line before answering . “Yo, Nick speaking, the answer is 42.”
On the other end of the line Nick could hear his friend Chris laugh before he responded. “So long and thanks for all the Fish.”
It was an old joke between the two of them. Luckily it was also popular enough in their life rather than just obscure nerd trivia like in their parents generation.
“So, get your butt over here. We can game as soon as you and Short Stack arrive.” Chris said to him.
Felix bristled as soon as he saw Nick attempting to smother a laugh at Chris’s description of him. “Tell him to Shove Off Nick!”
At that Nick could no longer smother his laugh as the very persnickety Felix had known exactly what type of comment had been made. The small man knew exactly who Nick was talking too as that ring tone was assigned to only one contact in his phone. It was Nick’s way of poking fun at Chris as the other man had done a short stint in the Coast Guard. Which of course, given Nick’s sense of humor ended up being a double joke on the guy.
“I see that got the appropriate reaction,” Stated the prior puddle hopping not quite swabbie. “Anyway, the other guys have already showed up. We’re killing some time on Mario Kart but anxiously waiting to see what breed of demented ass weasels you are going to throw at us tonight.”
Nick finally calmed down a little from snickering at Felix’s vertical challenged issues. “I can neither confirm nor deny the presence of Ass Weasels in tonight. Neither can I speak to their mental stability.” As he talked about said tubular mammals Felix made the universal gesture of TMI to him. “Also, I’ll drag our pleasant little murder munchkin along. We’re on our way.”
Chris laughed at that. “That’s an insult to murderers you know.”
Felix and Nick were pacing along towards the parking lot as they made a beeline to Nicks car. Felix had his hands in his pockets and a slightly downtrodden expression on his face. “you don’t have to encourage him you know.”
“Oh come on Felix. You know Murder Munchkins would be pretty sick.”
The shorter man continued to sulk for a few more steps before his expression shifted and he finally laughed. “Only if the Lollipop guild’s Lolli’s were shaped like Battle Axe’s.”
On the phone Chris’s excellent hearing managed to pick up a touch of Felix’s comment. “Wait, I call Veto on Lollipop Battleaxe’s!”
Nick got another chuckle at that and responded, “Mayhap it will be Lollipop Battleaxe wielding Murder Munchkins with Demented Ass Weasel Familiars tonight.”
Chris growled out a good bye before keying off his side of the conversation.
Meanwhile the two reached the correct area of the parking lot and Nick pulled out his key fob to remote deactivate his car alarm. A quick bleep bleep later and the two of them were getting into a rather beat up tan Ford Escort that had seen better days. The inside matched the outside in appearance but that was a matter of choice for the owner. Since Nick enjoyed the obtuse, bizarre, and the downright strange he had invested funds into the drive train and performance instead of the exterior and looks. Since that specific year of Ford Escort was built on the same frame as the Mustang he had seen no reason why he couldn’t take out the old four banger and replace it with a more modern performance aluminum block v-6 engine with turbos. The result was something that looked like a run of the mill beater car but drove like a bat outta hell.
They crossed the town in the early afternoon traffic in Oceanside just north of San Diego. Luckily the roads were relatively clear before three or four pm. Relative for Southern California that is. Just a fine easy pace while they continue to chatter away until they pulled up. Outside of the old condo style apartment Chris rented was parked a mid eighties Honda Valkyrie motorcycle and a mid two thousands Chrysler Sebring. The condo itself had nice landscaping and a red front door deep set in a cream colored exterior. The paint was starting to peal… again. After a quick parking job one house over Nick and Felix walked to the front door and noted Malachai’s newer reliable mountain bike leaned up against the wall.
James opened the door and loomed over the two of them with his arms folded and a cross express expression on his face.
“Call the Brute Squad!” Nick hollered past the larger man into the house.
To which James answered “I’m on the Brute Squad.” Complete with grin and bad accent.
In almost as bad an accent Nick continued the almost ritualized commentary “You Are the Brute Squad?”
“I swear you two..” Felix stated more than a little annoyed as he pushed inside past and slightly underneath the two larger guys.
“Hey! There is Adorable Murder Munchkins!” Malachai said from the couch as he steered his kart on the video game he still happened to be playing. His Slavic accent understandable even if he still often talked in a sort of pidgin vocabulary at times.
Felix shot him a glance cross wise as if to say ‘Et Tu Malachai? Et Tu?’ as he walked into the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End Prologue iii
Summoned: An Accidental Adventure –
Prologue iv
Authors Note: SOoooooooo.... Embarrassed me.... I pulled a stupid. I thought I had pressed submit but I had only pressed preview when trying to post this chapter. Then a bunch of life happened Stupid Lifes always gettings in the way... hissssssssss Yeah, so, that happened. But I'm Alive! I'm still here and writing!!! I've gotten some great messages but I'd love comments just as much. I hope everyone's been enjoying it so far. This prologue chapter gets the story closer to the actual scenes that make it TG and why the story is here. However, I felt that it was important overall to set some of the tone. Especially with the Old Man and what he is and isn't. Also... Kind of got stuck binge watching She Ra on Netflix... again... my bad...
The Old Man was once more on the field of carnage. He was manty times more disheveled and worn than before. Favoring his right side where his robes were torn and a dark red brown fluid oozed from under them. Even with the injury and pain he was still spry enough to clamber around after any other bodies or at least parts of bodies that he may be able to save.
“Shouldna helped them.” He said quietly to himself as he bent down to inspect some battle spore on the ground. “Ungrateful warriors ready to believe the worst.”
He allowed himself a dark chuckle. “As if my kind has earned trust on first sight.”
The debris he was looking at seemed like a bit of meat and cloth that had been sheared off by a sharp blade. The flesh was green muscle tissue with sharp black metallic bone fragments within. The cloth was most likely either an underarmor jerkin or a soldiers uniform. Due to the color of the flesh the Old Man was most likely looking at an Enhanced, and hopefully one of the fallen Great Ones as it was still fresh. He chanted in his arcane language and waived his left hand over it. The back of his hand had a clear quartz panel built into it with some form of digital display fussily lit from within. With his palm placed over the fleshy bits a humanoid shape took form within the depths of the screen.
“Yes good…” He said in confirmation of what he was seeing.
The Old Man turned to his left and continued to chant quietly under his breath he moved forward. The hand held out in front of him, his palm outwards not unlike a blind person questing for a wall. In this case though whenever his palm passed near a bit of blood or remnant of the same being it flashed an image of the man. Using this method it did not take too terribly long to find the individual. He lay gasping for breath. Holding in his guts by one arm while fending off a human form Ravager with a bent piece of pipe. The light in the mans eyes was fading along with his strength. The blue colored skin of his right side was flayed open, torn free likely by some type of jagged claws. Similar likely to the Ravager in front of him which dripped ichor and green fibrous muscle tissue of its intended victim.
Coming to the rescue was never in question for the Old Man. He jumped immediately onto the attack. His worn and tattered robes flapped as he ran forward. A flame on the tip of his staff triggered by a couple switches on the haft. Once in range he aimed the fire burst flare at the creature. He followed the short plume in to impact with a resounding almost cymbal sound of metal on metal. The forelimb of the dead creature fell at the feet of the wounded man as the Ravager let out a strange sound, much like a electric buzz coupled with a hissing of a broken steam boiler. It moved into the Old Man oblivious to the wound he had just inflicted into the creature. Its hybrid flesh a patchwork of many pieces of fallen foes or battlefield carrion. The inner workings of the Ravager collected in much the same way.
Including a chemical propellant firearm that seemed to be part of its stomach area.
When the small bore cannon fired the Old Man narrowly maneuvered any of his vital parts out of the way. However it did not miss him entirely. Now a matching wound in his left side began to bleed out similar in size and location from its opposite just under his ribcage on his right side.
“Void and Damnation!” He yelled as he shifted his stance incase there was another round that the creature could fire at him. He stepped back, careful not to slip on the destroyed landscape beneath his feet. Precious time taken fighting this fiend instead of on the rescue frustrated him to no end. “End damn you creature, END!”
The Ravager ignored the Summoners calls. Instead it swiped its deformed remaining appendage at him. He barely managed to get his staff into a blocking position before receiving another wound. Behind and below him the wounded man began to emit a death rattle from his damaged throat. With very little remaining on the mans life the Old Man took what action he could as he planted his staff end on the ground as a pivot point for the flare on the other end. With timing gained from many years of experience he brought the incinerating flare down into the torso of the enemy as it attempted to bull him over. Much the same way as a man would set a spear into the ground to let a beast impale itself upon it while on the hunt.
Unlike a spear though, the Technomancers Staff he utilized accessed energies a plain metal tip could never hope to. With these energies in play the Summoner triggered an explosive cascade as soon as the tip entered the major area of the Ravagers chest cavity. He utilized the remaining stored energy reserves in his chem cells and the creature exploded apart as if it had been a grotesque confetti bomb made of decaying body parts and miscellanea of tech.
Now dripping with the remnants of Ravager the Old Man had the time to attempt his mission of mercy. He turned to look down at the man and clicked his tongue in sorrow. He placed another transportation disc on a relatively undamaged portion of the mans chest.
“You may be the last one I am able to rescue…” He said to the being as the corpse vanished. “I only hope that I am not too late.”
Once the man was completely gone the Summoner bent over in a coughing fit that he covered with a hand. He pulled it back and saw some black blood spackled over his palm. “Need to get that fixed…”
He began to fade once more to the heartbeat of his techno sanctuary.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Chips.”
“Check.”
“Beer.”
“Check.”
Nicholas’s gaming group continued their pre game munchie check off list. For the most part everything was accounted for. Even though everyone had called a total Veto on Felix’s Sardine Bean dip. Especially as since the last time that Felix had made it the gaming area stank of the salty fish for the entire gaming session and several days afterwards.
The Salty Fish Veto had ended up in another Veto of course. This time was on James’s wish of Cornnuts. Chris was not a fan and it was his apartment after all.
“So Felix, you know you have to choose tonight.” Chris state as they continued to check down the items they had for their game.
“Yeah Felix, choose path.” Malachai added.
The munchkin in question paused a moment in contemplation and when Chris opened his mouth to continue the commentary he raised his hand in a ‘Wait a Moment’ gesture. He used the brief respite to shuffle some sheets around the gaming table in front of him.
As he did so Nick came in from the kitchen sipping on an energy drink to look over the smaller mans shoulder. James had sat down as well to go over his papers and looked up at their game master. “Oh no Nick. No Energy Drinks this early!”
“What!” Malachai exclaimed whipping around to look at the brunette in question. “No good, no good! You put down now Nick!”
“What?” Nick held up his arms innocently with his best ‘pure as the driven snow’ expression.
Chris tossed Nicholas a bag of pretzels and waited to see the results. His target was adpt enough to catch it without spilling the already opened bag. Nick meanwhile was able to resist the urge to throw it back, instead choosing to respond verbally.
“Oh, what’s wrong with an energy drink or three?”
“Two words Nick.” Chris held up his index and middle finger to emphasis his point. “Abyssal Herpes.”
“Nick never allow watch Knights Badassdom again.” Malachai murmured gruffly. The others nodded sagely to the statement.
Their game master put the drink down next to Felix’s stack of characters and information so he could have his hands free begin going through the sheets. Felix made a grabbing motion just a little to late to prevent his friend from getting the topmost piece of paper.
“No, we talked about this Felix. Wrong Genre. I don’t care that it can ‘Technically’ be made.”
Chris made a ‘gimme’ motion with his hand reaching out, though Felix was able to intercept the sheet first.
“Well, I was thinking that my charact4er would have a parent who kept a dream journal with it in from another reality that was seeping into hi—” Felix’s long winded explanation and rule twisting justifications was interrupted by Nick.
“No Sonic Screwdriver. You can pick something from the books for your characters one year downtime, or you can have him only take a vacation. Books Felix, please keep it to the Books.” He attempted not to sound lecturing or patronizing, but sometimes it was just a little bit more difficult than at others.
“Fine.” The Munchkin of the group didn’t even attempt to keep the petulance out of his voice as he reached for a stack of the hardbound rules and games books.
Malachai picked up a pretzel piece to waive it as Felix. “I back take. Is Felix no watch shows.”
“Dude, you seriously need to work on your English.” Chris stated while pinching the brow of his nose. “Pidgin only works in TV Shows with a laugh track.”
James chuckled from down the table. “You do know he purposefully does that, right?”
The object of Chris’s oncoming headache grinned, sort of an impish mischief alight in his eyes. “Your shows here have great examples of foreigners who never learn English.” His Romanian accent was still present though his words and inflections sounded near perfect. He then looked at James while Felix, Chris, and Nick all had an open mouthed shocked expression. “How figure out? I good pidgin, work hard at no speak good English."
“Just because I am slower to state an answer does not mean I’m not observant.” James said with a slow shake of his head. He paused for dramatic effect as the others took in his words. “You ordered the pizza last week remember? I overheard you placing the order.”
Malachai paused and thought back. “Damn. Stupid Hut of Pizza’s phone peoples no understanding. They gave me out….”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Seven bodies now lay on seven hybrid technological slabs. Making the location look even more like a combination morgue slash life support slash robotic repair location. All of the bodies were as still as death yet they pulsed with the same energetic heart beat like rhythm that the equipment in the room was generating.
The first of the rooms occupants looked the most lifelike at this point. Her body no longer ashen, now more flushed. Lips red once more and skin though pale was no longer contained the pallor of death. If not for the fact that she was not breathing she could easily be mistaken for being asleep. A few beds down the granite slab of a man looked to be nearly complete once more. His hard smooth rocklike skin had the impression of both a well crafted statue as well as that of a living person. With the whorls and sparkles of a figure that had been carved from a single slab of stone free of all imperfections. No longer a broken automaton. The insectile hybrid robotic arms that had been repairing his broken form rising once more into the ceiling now that their job is done.
Next to that was the dusky rose skinned man with the long braid. His repairs long since finished, now looked to finally be at peace with the world around. His youthful though weathered face calm and serene as if within blissful dreams of better times.
Further down the line the repair servitors from above were continuing their work. Sealing a leg closed on the person using a sealant foam that would then be absorbed becoming the same as the strange skin upon the form. Flesh as dark as the mid of night, when an observer looked upon the man it was as if looking through a window into a star filled sky. The shortish hair on his head was a stark and pure white as were his eyebrows and lashes. Otherwise his body was clear of any blemish or hair that could obscure the view of a galactic core strung out along one edge of his chest.
Beyond the starry man was the smallest one of the seven. Her skin was a type of perfection with an opalescent sheen to it that made her look as fragile as delicate ceramics. A slight build with small pert breasts and slim hips. She had a type of almond shaped eyes set above high cheekbones and small lips completing the doll like appearance. Her hair was cut high in the back sweeping towards her jawline in a sharp edged line so as to perfectly frame her face. Several tubes connected into her arms and into the side of her neck. The efficient and industrious nature of the repair apertures having already seen to her form.
The most normal of them was at the opposite end of the room from the red headed woman of Amazonian stature. The woman would be considered pretty in a girl down the street way. Of an athletic trim with modest proportions, the only variance from normal would be the luxurious mane of silver hair that would flow down to her feet when she stood upright.
Of highest importance to the rooms ability to repair the damaged forms was a blue skinned man most recently rescued with the horrible gut wound. Broad fighters shoulders with almost over defined musculature. Raven black shorter hair still covered in the muck of battle. He would be considered striking though not very handsome. Nose a bit large even on the very masculine face, eyes large but perhaps a bit too deep set under a brow that was thick with bone and muscle. Jawline almost comically square in its chiseled form.
The Old Summoner was directing the repair apparatus himself on the nearly completely dismembered form. Using the probes covered in either various metals or chitinous materials to maneuver the exposed digestive tract back into order. Finding some way to put the various parts back together or to remove foreign debris from the wound.
“Finally….” He stated in a tired voice.
One of the steamwork robotic arms pulled out a nasty looking shard of what likely was the tip of a Ravagers claw from deeply lodged within the mans backbone. A little glob of grey goop was at the broken end of the thing and mad the fragment appear to be attempting to wriggle around.
“Nasty piece of work you created Xentul.”
He dropped the claw piece to the floor and pulled a different arm from the ceiling servitor. This one had a small opening in the tip with a single metal situated just in front of it. As the claw tip attempted to move towards one of the bodies the Summoner activated the armature which caused a bright white blue flame to erupt forth in an almost liquid flow to encapsulate and incinerate the infectious entity.
“I wish I could have been sooner.” He told the comatose bodies with some sadness in his voice. “Yet I dared not tip my hand.”
“Normally in a battle like this you would have had a whole contingent of Summoners to retrieve you before your wounds were past the point of fatality.” He tutted at the broken form as he allowed the servitor to get back to work repairing the bodies. “However I guess that is after all our own faults. It was a Summoner who began all of this, yet you Enhanced and Created Generals seem to have forgotten that many of us ‘Contaminated Creatures that Worship the Void’ are attempting to atone for Soreno’s mistake.”
A sigh in sorrow escaped after his last statement. He continued his path around the room. Inspecting some of the gauges and readouts. The route around the ellipse shape was always clockwise. He never went in the opposite direction, even if only a step was required. After a few laps his footsteps began to move with the energy of the room. The thump thump thoom of the heartbeat becoming tangible as each circle was completed.
“Let us just hope this works. I have never attempted to retrieve the Spirit Matrix of ones so powerful as you." He paused to check himself at that last statement, as if remembering or looking back on a memory long past. “Well, as a group that is.”
Another loop was completed. He paused briefly in front of the living bovine head that was connected to an archaic calculation machine made of gearworks to make sure that the creatures eyes were tracking his movements. He continued past that in his near dance to a tall grey equipment cabinet with three tall panels set into its front. He pulled out the middle one, the top half was filled with a web of optical crystals though the lower half with old and corroded circuit boards that snapped and crackled with electricity. He swapped out a few of the boards, their small size making it relatively easy.
“Come on you Bastards! Come Back!” He said through gritted teeth after one particularly strong mote of energy zapped his shoulder.
Down the line a bit he got to a large brass wheel which he attempted to turn. It resisted all movement, the more muscle he put in the harder put it stayed. Sparkling motes began to appear around the room and disappear with a popping burst. He strained against his aging body and reopened a wound in his side. The dark blood dripped down onto the floor only to evaporate as if water under a high desert sun. With a final grunt the wheel began to move, eventually it gained a momentum of its own, the gears it connected to began to spin a more modern capacitance flywheel generator. As the flywheel spun purple hued streamers of energy began to flow free around the room in the same clockwise motion the Old Man was pursuing. A hybrid of lightning and flowing flame.
He continued his spiral through the room. The heartbeat growing more powerful with each pass. Its cadence thrumming into the very molecules of space and time. “I built you in the most powerful Matrices of Techno-Lines you thrice dammed Room. You better not Fail me now!”
The dancelike steps became more pronounced. A foot in between the electric currents and arm weaving to touch a control screen. Duck and weave so as not to interfere with the various sparks, motes, lines, cables, wires, and more. Perhaps not a refined dance, yet a dance it seemed to be. The energetic pulse no longer something felt subliminally. Now fully audible and rising in intensity with each beat. Like a marathon runner on the home stretch. The Old Summoner made several more passes in this nature. The sparks and energies growing in size and now trailing behind him whenever he passed. Every step, every motion. A push of a button or a pull of a lever brought the spell like energy further towards completion.
By the fiftieth revolution of the chamber the Old Man had grabbed his staff to gather the energy motes on its end as he continued on. Whenever he had gathered a largish amount he would fling it at one of the bodies where the pulse would be absorbed. Sometimes the person would twitch as if regaining a semblance of life, sometimes it would not. Still he continued to work on the equipment, fine tuning it with minute or even major adjustments to the control panels holographic interfaces bio-organics and more.
“Come on…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End Prologue IV
Post Story Notes –
Again... Sorry for the delay everyone. I'll get the next chapter out as soon as I can. I think that'll be the last one of the prologue but I may be wrong. I try to get around 3k words per chapter. Just my goal.
As the wise Tigger once said.
- TTFN means Ta Ta For Now!
Summoned: An Accidental Adventure –
Prologue v
Chris looked down at the terrain they had set up on the gaming table. It was a detailed forest simulacra with representative building walls, carts, beasts of burden, town folk, guards, and of course unique little figurines representing the various players characters.
“Hmmmmm…..” his gaze was focused downward. Intense as he continued to contemplate the many and varied choices that may or may not actually be available to him in the contextual form of a pen and paper fantasy game. As always, playing with visual representations instead of just words made everything just that more real to the group. So much so that at times the extended study that Chris would often employ could reveal strategies that would have eluded him if done without.
The world of medieval plots and twists, of forests and ogres, of swords and sorcery shattered around the large man as the Jeopardy theme song was hummed loudly right next to him. Loudly and badly in stereo by Felix and Malachai.
“Damnit you two.” He sounded a bit irate after being pulled out of his tactical reverie.
“New Record.” Nicholas stated. “Four seconds to break concentrative trance.”
Felix handed James a one dollar bill, who them proceeded to snap it a couple times to its full extension before placing it carefully folded into his pocket.
“You were Betting on that?!?” Chris was incredulous. “I know I was not THAT unaware!”
“Say who? So much concentrate. So much ‘blivious.” Malachai stated in his normal pidgin.
“They set it up last game session Chris. Your penchant for getting caught up in the tactics is becoming legendary in the guilds after all.” Their most intrepid game referee and master story teller replied. At least that was what he considered himself. The others perhaps a little bit les so.
Chris looked at James before he responded. “But, one dollar?”
Felix was the one to answer, with a poor imitation of an upper crust Wall Street accent. “It is not the Amount of the bet that matters, but rather the transaction of monetary format that takes true precedent in the matter.”
Chris gazed at Felix with an expression of strange incomprehension. As he did so James pulled out the bill once again to pull it open, straight and sharp. “Truly my good man. For at this level what is the value of just one dollar against the Millions it could truly represent?”
“Resist the urge to facepalm Chris. Resist it.” Nick said. “They got a hold of some old Eddie Murphy flicks recently.”
“Game on Guys.” Felix pointed back at the board, once again interested in their weekly session rather than verbal shenanigans.
Chris of course was more than happy to do so. So once again he gathered his attention and turned his mental focus inwards. The figurine stood outside the walls of a ruined castle. To him the painted and etched Styrofoam walls seemed to gain more detail as in his mind he once again because a human of roguish looks and talents. This was altogether a normal thing for him, it was how he would get drawn into the tactical reality of whatever he did after all. Normally it was only a minds eye imagining, no matter how detailed. For some reason this time the damaged landscape felt more there, more true. Sort of like his senses becoming aligned to the textures far and above what had happened in the past. Sight alone would have been a powerful illusion, but the smell of the battlefield carrion amongst the chalk and tar threatened to churn his stomach.
The taller man was brought out of his intense vision by Felix cursing out loud and waiving his hands in front of himself. The smaller person was dealing with his own visual shift. In his case it was a strange swirling vortex of colors that seemed to outline every solid object. As if he could see the very whisps of air and matter as a rainbow kaleidoscope representation gifted directly into his visual cortex. More real than any experimentation that he had yet indulged upon. He could count himself lucky though as it was only seen and not felt by any type of accompaniment like he had dealt with when on various types of substances. The young man could do nothing but curse aloud as he did not trust moving around.
For Nick the world suddenly seemed to get very small and fragile. Like it was made of cardboard and tinfoil. A thought of how easy it would be to destroy the end table next to him if he just twitched his leg wrong. That if he was to sneeze or cough the gaming area would be blown through the wall opposite. If not shred the meat from the bones of his friends nearby. The pressure from sitting down became conscious to him. What would happen if he shifted? Would the couch break, shatter? Worse? He was holding very still until he heard Felix begin cursing up a storm. He startled and felt some of the wood frame crunch below him.
Across from Nick James saw the outlines of people moving through the room. It was completely fascinating, so much so that he didn’t say a thing. Just concentrated on watching them. As he processed what he saw he was tempted to share it. He loved to analyze, it was a part of his core being. Watching others and discerning what they would potentially do was more than just a past time for him. Many would think that James was just a bit slow or perhaps quiet, but in reality he liked to make sure he was spot on before opening up his mouth to state anything. He continued to watch the ghostly figures, it almost like they were acting out a crime scene investigation like he loved to watch on the streaming networks. Yet with barely more than their silhouettes moving around he was not yet sure what he was looking at.
They vanished like the popping of soap bubbles as soon as Felix howled out sparking off the crunching of the wooden frame under their game master.
Where Chris was focusing down and through Malachai found himself pulled up and out. His consciousness expanding to encompass more. He did not know what this ‘More’ was, only that he could now comprehend concepts that had been beyond his ken prior. Now mere child’s play to conceive. The equations of reality his to command. The underlying truths that everything is connected. Everything entangled below the quantum level. With a wave of his hand in one direction a person would make a choice across the world different. A sneeze could make or break an empire. The butterfly effect was a truism to him now rather than a fascinating discussion. He was about to tell his friend Felix how to truly win his age old argument when their cursing pushed him back into his body.
“Damned Cocksucking donkey balled liver goodie two shoe fracking asshole destroyed testicular monkey shit fuck damn box fuck!” Malachai shouted out in his own stream of cursing.
The other four looked at him, expressions of extreme bewilderment on their faces.
“Shit Mal, I didn’t think you had it in you.” Chris said. His own brief sojourn into an altered state of mind temporarily forgotten.
The others watched on, their own inquisitive or querulous expressions at their friends sudden burst of out of character profanity.
“What? Just worked how bring Sword to Gunfight and Win.” He said with a nonplussed tone.
Felix looked around the room. “Did we just experience a group hallucination?” He picked up his beer and looked at it suspiciously. “Fuck Chris, where’d ya get this drink?”
Nick struggled to get out of his now sunken seat in the damaged couch. He was a good foot lower to the ground and was being poked by the framework in ways that were not really that comfortable. “Guys, I’m not sure that was actually a trip.” He gave up attempting to get himself out of the couch. “A hand anyone? I seem to have damaged the couch.”
James got up out of his seat to grab his friends hand. Once grasped he felt a shock, almost like static electricity but not. “I’m not sure we are done quite yet…”
Things began to get weird again.
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“No, no, no, no, no……” The old man Chanted in rejection as the energy matrix of the room was attempting to stall out.
He stepped out of the Eldritch flow when he came to a largish console with an old style cathode ray tube lower screen and a biological interface clamshell holograph above. The many hued flow of sparks and streams continued in his absence, like a river still moving even after its source went dry.
The keypad below his hands was a mechanical affair, it gave off metallic clacking sounds as his spidery digits rapidly flew across it. Code streamed down the flickering displays. Whispering to it gently the upper graphics flexed into a glowing violet ball. The code sphere bobbed over to the nearest bed, the one containing the granite skinned man.
“So Gonarded. Search protocols are corrupted. Soul encounter programs are being…. Grounded?” He scratched the side of his head in confusion. “Not right. Need to enter an extant algorithmic web."
He stepped away from the console to move in with the Aetheric Flow once more. Presenting his body as a source in the stream not unlike a stirring ladle in a giant cauldron. He moved, pulling the pulsing lights along in his wake. A turn of the room, then another. The large flywheel contraption along one wall began to spin up properly, now discharging the Heart Pulse again. Now that it was stabilizing the Old Man stepped up to a complicated multi format bellows. Seven accordion push and pull oiled cloth bars comprised the machine. In a defined yet slightly chaotic order he worked the control rods. A whistling tune began to caterwaul from inside the vessel. At different pitches as the bagged device hollered out the bodies of the Great Warriors would twitch and flop. First an arm, or leg then a grasp of toes or hands.
“That’s better.”
The next device was a more standardized computer interface. Something mass manufactured rather than cobbled together. Except that with each keystroke a mote of energy would sift in the flow of the room rather than letters appear on the screen.
“There you are Wilheim… But why so far? Your shell is safe. You need not travel to the next inclination.” He tapped out a different combination and the coded sphere moved out of the granite body and on to the dusky rose skinned warrior.
“Bethran. I see you, but is that you? Energy ordered in the way of Essenz. Vital and secure yes, but where is your spark of ingenuity? Xentul could not have devoured that and not devoured you whole.” He walked clockwise once again. Stopping at the bovine head to feed it a long yellow tuber. Once it was munching contentedly and the wired leading out of the side of its skull pulsing with a similar colored energy he moved on to the bellows once again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Nice to finally get settled down from all that weirdness.” Felix said as he reorganized his papers for the umpteenth time.
Nick had found a new place to sit after they had checked the various gas and smoke detectors to make sure they hadn’t been breathing something odd.
“Alright, lets get back to it shall we gents? Sheets out and dice up, there’s a keep that needs storming.” The Game Master stifled a large yawn as he spoke.
Chris shook his head as he passed out some drinks to the group. “Don’t start that so early Nick. Especially after already downing an energy drink. We haven’t even had a chance to figure out if we’re getting epileptic octopi or suicide bomber beetles yet.”
The others chuckled as Malachai added with an ominous tone. “Not giving Nick ideas. Bad end we find.”
James was going to add something but found a sudden grounding of his energy. As if suddenly he had been up for an entire week straight. He could not stifle his own yawn as his energy came back just as quickly. “Chris, are you sure your carbon monoxide sensor is working correctly?”
He laughed. “We already checked those. Remember?” We have a few more yawns and suddenly it’s a gas leak again?” Besides we alre-“ He yawned greatly and felt his vision waver for a moment. “Shit. Felix, get the front do-“
Nearest to the door Felix was no slouch and was the fastest of the friends. As Chris fell over mid sentence he was already moving into action, yet he never made it to his objective. His last thoughts were about why they seemed to be suffocating on such a beautiful clear day.
By this time James was already unconscious and had ceased to breath, his head lolled to one side. Malachai slumped forward, falling face first into the table that contained the game miniatures on the fake landscape. In the kitchen doorway Nick was clawing at the trim of the frame. Sweat beading on his forehead as he desperately fought whatever had been pulling him into the abyss. Eventually he too fell. His head hit the hardwood of the floor and bounced once. Nicholas Anderson’s eyes were wide open and glassy. Unseeing and still as the flicker of whatever it was that made a person a person fled from within his body.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End Prologue V
Authors Post Script –
So, what do you guys think? End of the Prologue! On to the first chapter of the Book! I’ll be working on this tonight and my hope is that I’ll get at least a couple thousand words of it done before I get too exhausted. The Muse has me by the short hairs tonight, I must comply!
Summoned: An Accidental Adventure –
Chapter 01
Authors Note –
Now that we are done with the Prologue, the POV will shift from individual to individual. As such, it is no longer 3rd person Omniscient but 3rd person narrative. Meaning if the character can’t see it then the story won’t show it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~ Nicholas~
The room was dark beyond his closed eyes. Something reeked of burnt electronics and charred flesh. He found his head was splitting. Throbbing in tune with a powerfully thumping heart. That was a secondary concern for Nick however. His primary consideration was to figure out what was going on, where he found himself to be.
His whole body felt off. It had an ache, that of not moving for a very long time mixed with a sort of tingling like a limb that had fallen asleep. Very similar to when he had an off road dirt bike accident that had put him in traction because he had broken parts of his neck and back. Though this was an order of magnitude stronger. His thoughts were in disorder. Eventually his near full body migraine began to fade. As it did so he began to track better, his mental acuity once more taking the fore. He hoped beyond hope that he wasn’t a physically shattered wreck again.
When the pain subsided enough to form anything coherent his first thoughts were ‘Wouldn’t that just beat all.’
He waited a bit longer to see if anything changed. It did seem to help with abating the pain, yet his body still felt very ‘off’. After what felt like a half hour of gentle breathing but was likely only a few minutes Nick marshaled himself to get up.
“May as well.” He said. Or tried to that is. Instead something else garbled out. That was bad enough. Worse was that the voice doing the garbling was not the one he was used to. He did not know whose it was. It sounded both more and less than what he was used to. Perhaps a bit higher octave, perhaps a bit lower. He couldn’t quite tell. Though that could just be the damage from whatever accident he had to have been in.
Desperately Nick attempted to remember what had happened. He remembered work and a college campus. He also remembered hanging out and gaming together. For the life of him though he could not remember anything passed that. Definitely nothing that could account for the feeling of being of traction.
‘Alrighty then… Talking worked so well, why not just open my eyes.’
‘yeah… eyes. Those things. C’mon Nick.’
With what felt like a herculean effort he managed to get one eye partially open. Only one for a moment. With a grunt he managed to get the other one. Everything felt disjointed. Even just thinking through the simple process of moving his eyelids. It was almost as if he had forgotten how to move them and needed to just think through even the simplest of movements.
‘Did I have a stroke?’ He was in no small amount of panic. ‘At least I can still see… I think…’
It was a sight indeed. In front, or likely above him, were wire runs and plumbing tubes held in servo styled open shelled robotics mixed with some strange technology. It was recessed into a slightly curved rocklike ceiling. Not a few or even several but a veritable rats nest or spiderweb of materials. He attempted to process it all, as he did so something dawned on him. There wasn’t a visible light source. Sure there was a blinking something like a LED off to his left in his peripheral vision. Something bluish glowed behind one of the wire tangles above. Though those were nowhere near enough to be able to see with any clear definition. It was Dark with a capital D in here. Yet he could see as if it was only just after sundown.
He didn’t even know how he knew it was dark. From his vision it wasn’t. He just knew it was. Just as much as he knew there was something wrong with his body. He felt almost like a foot shoehorned into a stiff boot that was a few sizes too small.
At the edges of his vision Nick could see a lot of equipment of various types. Some were video screens straight out of an office complex, others were old school television tubes without any casing. Sort of like the ancient Magnivox he helped his father tear apart to turn it into a custom entertainment center. Then there the items that he could only categorize under ‘something else’.
Nick took his time to work around his headache and the sort of semi-paralysation he found himself under. He attempted to take stock of everything that he was able to. So far he had trouble moving anything without concentrating very hard as well as a lot of pain. He could not remember any wreck, and as for a stroke… he couldn’t actually rule that on out. In fact he could not remember much before waking up here. When he tried to dial into any specifics of his life he seemed to swim or didge into zones of zip, nada, and zilch. Still he did keep on trying to focus on his past even if it was to minimal avail.
He felt like an age or more was passing. He didn’t really know. Right now his internal clock was really messed up. When he focused on it some sort of imagery of figures superimposed themselves into the upper right hand area of his vision.
‘Odd… I think directly on time passing and get something like a clock? But I’ll be damned if that’s English.’ He took a second to focus on it. ‘or any other language I think I’ve ever seen.’
Whatever the figures were they didn’t have any corresponding similarities to anything he was familiar with. Even the sci-fi languages or fantasy shows that he and his friends watched. They were kind of a geometric like shape set in nine distinct places. The ones on the left of the set changing the fastest but felt like they were a bit longer in duration than a full second. With no frame of reference he couldn’t really tell though.
After sixteen changes to the leftmost digit it recycled and the next place shifted on figure.
‘Base sixteen. So a hexadecimal clock? That’ll be a bronze coated bitch to convert on the fly.’
Nicholas did not feel tired, and counting numbers like sheep attempting to brain themselves by jumping over a fence held no interest either. It would be worth the potential pain to get up, if only to figure out what was going on.
“Warlle….” He attempted to speak again, but the unintellectual grunt only proved how hard it was with his tongue still so gluey in his mouth. He cleared his throat and worked his stiff jaw a little. “Wrell.. thart es uh little bettr…”
‘Maybe I just haven’t spoken in a long time. Like my tongue is out of practice or something?’ He was a bit amazed at the concept, after all even when he had awoken in traction after his bike accident it had not been that long he had been unconscious.
With a grunt of discomfort Nick managed to turn his head to the left. Still an odd timbre to his ears but it was definitely from his throat. He closed his eyes for a moment, the distraction of the clock still there even after the room went away. Though it didn’t feel as intrusive as he had initially thought it would.
Eyes open once more he saw that the room was even stranger than he had initially thought. It looked like some the industrial revolution had a bastard offspring with Star Trek while being raised by Frankenstein’s Nanny with a liberal dash of Battlestar Galactica or Farscape for good measure. All of the equipment in the room was exposed in some manner so that the wires or leads shown through and the guts were on full display. None of it made any sense to Nicks trained eye unless it was only there as some strange poor science fiction movie prop. It was like a technophile hoarders dream stash after they had managed to raid the Universal Studio’s special effects dumpster.
Such as the vacuum tube computer. Complete with punch card program file stacks that had a set of heavy duty electrical or data cables leading into a cabinet that resembled a Chinese geared calculation machine. For some reason as confusing as it was he didn’t think it was fake. There seemed to be some actual purpose to the chaotic merging of various technologies. The random screens, cables, pipes, keyboards, pullies, and even a strange set of what looked like accordions that looked functional. Like they had been used a lot over the course of many years.
Though the cybernetic bulls head with a pigs snout that was watching him did kind of freak him out. Only a little bit though. Really.
So far the least bizarre thing in his view was the large granite statue of a man that was on what looked like a surgical examination table. It was only a few feet away and Nick could not really understand why someone would take the time to put it there. It was like someone had decided to carve a dead man and lay him down for a nap. Except that there were wires and tubes coming down from the ceiling or up from the table and leading into the thing. Somewhat like the wires that were above him falling downwards.
“Least there is a privacy towel on you.” His slur was a bit better but still there. “I wouldn’t want a full Statue of David for my only companion.” Something about the tone of his voice still bothered him. Differently though now that he heard more of it. He wasn’t quite sure what it was but it was so he put it to the back of his mind, refusing to resolve it at this time.
“So…. Alien abduction scenario. Check.”
Earlier in his life Nick had gone through a conspiracy nut phase and he still considered himself rather open minded since then. Yet at the end of the day he no longer believed in any of it. However with the evidence of the extra-ordinary in front of him he was beginning to have troubles keeping his breath steady. It took a bit of time and a lot of breathing exercises to pull himself back from the brink of a full on panic attack. Or at least on par enough for the situation he found himself in.
He felt enough less pain to move a bit more. As he sat up he felt his muscles shift and complain. Soreness in places he wasn’t sure he had. Even when he had been on huge benders and woke up afterwards without remembering what had happened he still had never felt the aches and cricks his body was giving him. Yet the most disturbing part was a sort of shifting weight that was pulling him forward a bit located on his chest.
With some trepidation he looked downwards.
“Well, those are new.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~Malachai~
“Oooooo……… Do Not want to do that again.” A female voice complained somewhere nearby bringing Malachai to awareness. Also it brought no small amount of pain. Wanting to move or otherwise seemed a bit out of his control at this time. His brainfog was just too much to overcome what seemed to be wrong.
‘That must have been one hell of bender.’ He thought to himself. He had been in the United States long enough to encounter its bizarre culture. Especially its college culture. It had given the youth quite an education on Benders. He made an attempt to reach his hand up to his head so as to massage his temples. Or maybe at least to discover how bad it really was.
Apparently that wasn’t on the agenda for him. For some reason though his arm twitched, as well as any other part he attempted to move, nothing seemed properly connected. It was all thee, the residual pain told him that if nothing else. It was just that he was misfiring. Like the chemicals running his nervous system were being derailed somewhere between his conscious thoughts and the actual implementation of them.
“Take it easy there.” The same voice as before said as he felt a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not sure where you’re from, why they took us, or even if you understand me… but it is best to start slow. Whatever happened we may only have each other to lean on.”
Malachai found he liked the husky alto voice. He would be happy to listen to her as long as he could. Then what she said got through. ‘Took Us’ resonated with much of the problems of his youth. Being from a country so close to both Russia and the Middle East meant that kidnapping and abduction was a very real thing and not just a Hollywood plot or nationwide news event. Something that can and did happen to people you knew.
He tried to sit up. Muscles still rebellious, still aching. A couple false starts and he was panting laying on his back once more with eyes pinched shut.
“Mrrmmrrnnn…” His voice and throat felt dusty from lack of use.
Talking would be out of it for a bit he felt, but it managed to focus him enough to open up his eyes. To see one of the most strikingly attractive women he had ever seen. He wasn’t sure but she also looked to be built of Amazonian proportions. Shoulder length strawberry red hair, fair skin, the perfect amount of freckles. With some type of metallic body paint that did nothing to cover anything. Instead it enhanced her femininity as well as to her lethality more than just the well toned muscles alone. She had deep emerald eyes, pure like gems of the highest grade. These pulled him in, capturing his attention away from all other aspects. Including her nudity.
“Ingerul meu…” He tone was breathless as he called her his Angel in Romanian. For the sight of her not only stole his breath but made what was left only a sultry whisper.
She smiled, the sort of grin of a woman enjoying humor at an inside joke. “So, I guess you can’t understand me then.”
Her face and expression captivated Malachai. Completely. He tried to sit up once more, if only so that he could view her better.
“Hold on miss. You’re connected to the bed. Trust me, you don’t want to get out of the bed or even sit up until some of it is removed.” The Angel still had one warm palm on his shoulder. The other was helping to restrain as well as cover a rather ample bosom.
“For you I wait.” He said in the same breathless whisper. His voice wasn’t just weak. It was off. That didn’t matter too much to him, at least he could still talk.
“Good. You do speak English.” She said with a smirk. “I was worried we wouldn’t be able to communicate.” She looked down at Malachai’s body then back up to his face. “I am going to begin getting some of these tubes and wires out of you. Is that alright? It may feel a bit… different.”
Malachai nodded his consent. The red head leaned forward, her posture one that he found most attractive. He felt a tightening in his core at the sight, but different than normal. One that stemmed in his belly, behind and below his naval rather than in his groin. As he was attempting to figure the warmth out the Angel tugged on something and Malachai’s eyes bulged as something like a jagged metal splinter being pulled out between the muscles in his neck.
His scream was probably the girliest scream that the youth from Romania had ever shouted out in his life.
“Aiiiiiiiiaaaahhhh!!!!”
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End Chapter 01
So! Finally on to the main event! Also, I'm pretty sure many of you figured where each person who end up in. But the reaction's half the fun, ne?
As a side note (And shameless plug): For anyone who wants to get ahead I have up to chapter 06 on my Patreon and I generally post 1 or two chapters a week there or more! (I really enjoy writing, plus your support will give me more time to devote to it!)
Summoned: An Accidental Adventure –
Chapter 02
Authors Note - 2nd Chapter! Hope you guys and gals and everything in between enjoy!
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~Felix~
A scream with a capital S brought Felix bolt upright out of a dreamless sleep.
Just as quickly he was floored back down when lightning arcs of pain flared throughout his back, neck, and arms. Like he had been stabbed or shot at each point. The pain as bad as if he had been sent literally though a meat grinder.
Once back down he could feel a few very uncomfortable cables or kinks underneath his back. Had bolts been run through his muscles or something?
Felix tried to talk but his mouth seemed to be as messed up as the rest of his body was. However, he needed to get up as soon as he was able to. A scream like that meant that someone was in trouble. He may be something of a rules-monger with his friends, and troublemaker with others, but when push came to shove Felix always reverted to a straight forward protector. So he made another anguished attempt to get up and out of whatever was holding him down. Once he was mobile, or at least more awake, then whoever was harming the screaming person would be in for a world of hurt.
“Son of Rutting Whore!” A breathy woman’s voice cursed in a Slavic accent. “What bastard put in…” Her voice trailed off before suddenly erupting into an excessively long string of some Eastern European language.
Even without knowing any of it Felix could feel his ears burning as the woman cursed so heavily he was sure that Army Sergeants to Navy Sailors coast to coast would now be blushing.
While the woman cursed he could feel the muscles on his neck and back begin to uncramp. Soon he was able to open his eyes to the rats nest of materials on the ceiling. Interesting as he found it was he needed to figure out more about his other surroundings. Especially as the mish mash of technologies was kind of creeping him out.
'Isn't this where someone yelled something about "It's Alive!"?’ he thought.
Slowly he also began to take note of how well he could see. He couldn’t see any source of light and there did not seem to be any shadows of any type. He could just see in perfect ambience. Sort of like his eyes naturally had light amplification built in.
After what felt like several minutes the cursing finally abated to a slow torrent. Likely not really that long, probably only a minute or two. Long enough though. Once she slowed down another voice spoke up, also female. This one was husky, divine to his ears.
“Settle down please, let me help.”
Some more cursing, and then the sound of metallic items hitting stone. Probably the floor if he was reading the room correctly.
“Ok, that one you REALLY will want me to – “
The other one yelled again followed by a seriously inspired bit of invective.
For the life of him Felix couldn’t suppress laughing. He could only imagine the scene as if it was a Netflix show or something like that.
“Since you have that one taken care of I’m sure you can handle the last few. It sounds like one o the boys are waking up so I’m going to go help him out.”
Felix’s neck was still very stiff and sore from whatever had happened. It was difficult and he may have strained it when he had startled upwards earlier.
“Wait moment. I help.” The whispery voice said followed by more cursing. Then a pair of what sounded like bare feet slapping down onto stone. “Still no understanding why this.”
A pair of stunning faces came into his field of view. The taller, by a few heads, looked almost like an Irish version of Wonder Woman. The shorter woman looked sort of oriental with almost porcelain fine skin and raven black hair cut to a forward swept fame ending at her jawline. It was the smaller one with the whispery phone sex worker voice. Though for some reason he was pretty sure this was her normal form of speaking.
“I had perfect body. Strong. Fierce. Mine!”
Normally Felix wouldn’t have noticed their faces and ethnicities first. Normally he would have been paying more attention to their state of undress. Especially the red headed bombshell standing over him.
“I always knew I’d die and end up in the hands of some beautiful women.” He slurred out through a tongue feeling unused in his mouth as he took in the rest of her form.
The busty taller woman rolled her eyes at his comment. “Now I know how Power Girl feels.” She stated, one arm holding her breasts the other one pointing up at her face. “Eyes up here buddy.”
The smaller girl giggled. She didn’t appear nearly as concerned about her nudity as the metallic green painted one was.
“Did I die and end up in an Adults only Comic Con then?”
Red shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of. Though, given the spectacular state of your skin I would rather doubt it.”
“What’s wrong with my skin?” Felix felt a little bit concerned.
He looked between the two of them quickly but not down yet as even moving his eyes hurt a little let alone his neck. He loved how the metallic body paint enhanced the beauty of the Irish woman. How the geometric designs and patterns flowed under her breasts in three long stripes per side, each one over a rib. The two interposed triangles on each forearm and the thin slashes along her jawline. The other, her porcelain skin seemed to have an opalescent sheen to it. Her shiny raven hair shot through with stipes of crimson and deep blue. The perfect ideal of a modern gothic girl. Where the red head could give She Hulk a run in the buxom bad ass brigade the Asian gal was a slight woman with a whipcord thin athletes build.
The smaller of the two cocked her head to the side with an expression he had seen directed at him far too often. “So, starry sky skin normal?”
“What do you mean? I don’t have…” He trailed off as she grabbed a hold of his hand and lifted it into his field of vision.
He no longer bothered to ogle the two other women. All the aches and pains vanished to the back of his mind as he sat up to look down at himself. Every other concern also fell to the wayside. He watched in fascination as his limb seemed to look like staring into the night sky unblemished by cloud or cover. Stars to every direction and slightly off to one side was something akin to a galactic core. The belt of which had to be the smattering of stars that he thought of as the Milky Way. He gazed at the stellar cloud on one arm as he moved it around. His flesh may move, but the view did not. No matter how he maneuvered or twisted it. As if he was only a window that even if moved did not change the view to the landscape beyond.
“Oh my god… I’m full of Stars.”
A short bark of a laugh escaped from the red head before she could stifle it. She looked a little embarrassed at her reaction, he wasn’t really sure why she would find it that funny. He really was full of stars.
Felix looked over at the two of them and considered them again in a new light. Yes, both of them were nude. Now that he was sitting up he was able to answer the question regarding curtains and drapes as well. On one, though. Not the other. He could also see four other beings of various forms of humanity on the other beds. One woman and three men. All nude, all with tubes wires and leads in them. All with privacy towels on their waists. The woman had lightly tanned skin and very long metallic silver hair. A huge juggernaut made out of stone. A short islander with long braided hair and dusky rose colored skin. Last was a blue skinned man who reminded him of the guys from the movie Avatar, minus the braided hair however. Perhaps dusky rose guy stole it.
“I don’t think this is funny anymore.”
Red answered him. “Me neither. I’m voting Alien Abduction and Experimentation.”
“You already vote that.” The Asian girl said as she started messing with some of Felix’s tubes.
“Then I vote it again.”
Felix saw her look around the room. After a moment he did the same. The oddness of the room not lost on him. He opened his mouth to say something when he felt a sharp yanking pain from his left shoulder.
“OUCH! Wha’d’ya do that for!?!”
The Asian gal stood there one hand on hip and cockily spinning a cable slightly off to the side. “You need uncoiled before more wake.” She laughed a breathy laugh. “I want see how deal with under towel.”
With a sick feeling to his gut Felix looked down at his lap. He found out two things, yes his starry skin went all the way down. Second was that he had tubing connecting up and into his unmentionables.
“You have got to be kidding me. You guys know, I blame Nick for this.”
Felix was pretty sure that sitting here with his skin strangely changed also meant that his companions would hardly catch his reference. Yet both of them became deathly still and stared intensely at him.
“What… did… you… just… say?” Red let out slowly.
“Umm… I blame Nick for this?” His voice pitched up a little towards the end as he cringed. There were many possibilities for her reaction swimming around Felix’s mind right then. Many centered on whatever in that statement may have offended her. Though for the life of him he could not figure out what that would have been.
“I can’t let you do that Dave.” Her voice was deadpan.
That however was definitely not what he was expecting. In fact it left him a bit dumbfounded. There was no sane or reasonable explanation to it. Yet the smaller woman’s equal measure of jaw dropped shock as she looked at Red it seemed that it was the only one that fit.
“Roll a Die Six.” Felix said quietly.
“Who’s gonna run this raid.” She returned.
“Always remember your towel.”
“And Don’t Panic.”
“Thanks for all the Fish.”
“It’s bigger on the inside.”
The petite Asians head had been ping ponging back and for the whole time before she acted. She jumped forward and grabbed the two of them into a big hug. He felt her tears on his strange skin, her cheek nestled into his chest. Meanwhile his own face had been pressed into the red haired amazons own ample assets. Normally this would be a dream come true but considering who the two girls had to be caused no small amount of conflict.
“Uh… Malachai… I think? Please let go?” He asked while attempting to think very unsexy thoughts as he felt his lower half begin to stir.
She continued to hold on tight. Though the one who had to be his friend Nick pushed back a little, managing to separate herself from the three with ease. Which allowed him to rearrange his towel.
Malachai in his, now her, small new body looked up and sniffed a little. “What do now?”
She sounded so small. More so with the whispery voice. A voice that was almost as distracting to Felix as their state of dress. Especially as she was still so close he could feel the heat from her body.
“Fucked if I know. But I’ll lay you guys odds that James and Chris are in one of these others.” Nick said and slapped the table of the granite skinned man lightly. As an afterthought she added, “Oh and there’s an old dead guy.”
“I him blame. Nick only fuck with ass monkeys in Game.”
All three got a laugh as some of their old banter cleared a bit of the anxiety. “So what now?”
“Tubes off.” Malachai whispered in his ear. Before Felix could figure out what she meant he felt another painful tug on his side as something was pulled out from under his fleh. When pulled it caused his vision to flash and sparkle for a moment.
“WHAT IN THE FUCK MAN!”
Malachai came around to stand in front of him. Hand on hips looking just like one of his pissed off girlfriends. Except none of them had ever confronted him in the buff before.
To call it mildly distracting would have been an understatement.
“Cables off ‘Man’ otherwise stuck to bed.”
Felix knew this would be a very conflicting experience. At least he was here with a couple of his friends and not stuck in this strange room all alone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End Chapter 02
Summoned: An Accidental Adventure –
Chapter 03
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~Nicholas~
Wandering off to the side Nick rolled his, well her, eyes at Felix and Malachai’s antics. Seeing everyone in their all together was rather disconcerting. Bodies not-withstanding of course. She was also working on coming to grips with her new body. Definitely taller. At least six and a half feet if not more if her guess at the others heights were anything to go for. The longer legs and arms were actually tripping her up more than her shifted center of gravity and new… ahem… jiggly bits. It didn’t help that her new flesh was so sensitive. It also wasn’t very helpful that though she hadn’t even seen her reflection she knew her new form had to be quite a looker from her friends reactions.
“Could be worse. I could be a warrior slave to some interdimensional tentacle monster.”
“Who know we no slave now?” Malachai returned from where she was battling with getting Felix unhooked.
“Point.” Nick shuddered a little as she leaned forward to look at the Old Man she had tripped over on her way to Malachai when the smaller woman had gained consciousness.
She overbalanced and had to reach out both hands to catch herself on a table. With a curse muttered under her breath she lowered herself to a kneeling position next to the body.
“Ha! Least I no top heavy since I woman too.” Came the breathy whispered reply.
“Yeah, at least Nicky doesn’t sound like a phone sex operator.” Felix shot at the smallest of their group. His grumbled tone spoke volumes of his annoyance of getting disconnected from the bed so forcefully by Malachai.
Both women glared at him.
“Really Felix? ‘Nicky?’ You couldn’t come up with something less trope?”
Felix glanced over to where the tall woman was bending over. “You’re not exactly a Nicholas anymore are youuuueeeeEEOOOUCH!!!”
Malachai had a pair of slim cables that had been snaked under his skin, the leads still dripping a sort of sickly purple liquid. “You are insensitive twat.”
“That really hurt you know.”
She glared delightedly at him. “Good.”
“Why don’t you girls have scars or blood from these?” He paused as the ‘girls’ in question glared at him again. “Sorry, Guys, I meant Guys…. not Girls.”
“See Nick. He teachable.”
“I’m not really sure about that.” Nick said with a quiet laugh. “Though, as the blood? I know how much it hurt to remove, but it was like my skin sealed up immediately. Sort of like a certain varmint named mutant you are fond of?" She was looking down at her forearm where she had pulled out two longish rubbery surgical tubes. There were no marks there, though blood had come out when they had been removed.
“Sounds reasonable enough. Hey! Hands off, let me get that one!” Felix batted Malachai’s hands away from another wire.
Nick chuckled under her breath again and left the two to removing the stuff that she was sure must’ve been some form of life support equipment for their new bodies. She was studiously avoiding what it all meant for now. First she felt it more important to discover more of the strange room she found herself in. The man on the floor wasn’t much to look at compared to the rest of them. Just a bundle of rags and cloaks next to an odd staff that looked like it belonged on the set of Mad Max. His body looked like a fried half mummified piece of human jerky that until only recently clung to the last vestiges of life.
Throughout the body and clothes Nick could see various gadgets or devices just as eclectic and odd as the equipment in the room. Some of the gearworks still ticked away and there were digital displays flickering on and off as well.
She leaned closer and cursed as her breasts swung beneath her. The sensation was very different and one she was not ready for. “Damned body, what am I going to even use as clothes? A Tent?”
Done being sardonic with herself Nick poked at the crumpled form. She flipped a piece of cloth cloak to the side curiously. Underneath and apparently embedded into the right side of his chest was a half circle gadget that seemed to be a hybrid of exposed clockworks and smartphone interface. The gears were busily clacking away even though they seemed to be poorly adjusted and warped out of frame. The two inch by three inch kidney bean shaped screen flickered a blue and black color on and off. However after about four of the sixteen revolutions of the visual clock she saw it would go black and seemingly start again. Lines of text similar to the clock yet different flowed haltingly until the reset then started over.
‘Some sort of reboot sequence?’
There was a piece of jagged metal jammed into the flesh beside the device at an angle that Nick thought would possibly intersect inside the gear housing. She removed the part that really didn’t look like it was part of this specific hodge-podge. As soon as the nearly seven inch long metal shard was removed the clockworks pulled themselves back together. No longer did they click and clack, now they whirled up to a speed and moved to a metronome perfection. This time the display did not reset itself at the end of the fourth cycle of the clock.
“Hey guys, check this out.” She said as she stood up to look over at them. The scene she turned to made her laugh. Felix was fighting Malachai off as she was attempting to remove the last few, and the most uncomfortable of the attachments. “Or maybe I should tell you both to get a room.”
The two looked over at her comically. A sort of twin blink blink action going on. This made Nick laugh again. She was sure that Felix was blushing but with his strange star filled skin she could not tell. At least with his violet eyes and shoulder length white hair she could tell that he was indeed looking at her. Malachai however seemed shameless as she took some of her frustration of her situation out on the most socially dense person of their group.
“No need room. He need tuber out of pecker so he able help with others.”
“It is a cathartic tube and I am perfectly able to remove it myself.” Felix countered in a huff.
“Then do. Or I do.”
“I will when you, uh… well…”
“What. When I? What?”
Yeah Felix was definitely blushing this time. “Could you look away please?”
Nick snorted at the same time that Malachai lunched forward and finally got his towel away from him.
“You no have nothing I never see before.” She looked down at her own body then continued in a purposefully sultry whisper. “I however may have parts you no see yet.”
“HA! Malachai’s got you there,” Nick heard something from the floor beside her. “Huh?”
The desiccated body was moving, her eyes widened in fear as it snaked a hand out to grasp her around her ankle. It said something that sounded both panicked and confused though the guttural clicking language was something she had never heard before. Nicholas watched as the room and her friends began to fade from view.
“NOOOOOOO!!!!”
She attempted to escape the vicelike grip and run to Felix and Malachai who were looking at her with the same panicked terror in their eyes as everything disappeared once again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~The Old Man~
- Reboot Initiated
- Reboot Initiated
- Reboot Initiated
He was not sure how many times the system had attempted to restart. He was conscious within the damaged shell of his body. Unable to act, or even sense the world around him, the Old Man had watched far to many aborted cycles to rest easy. The only thing he could think of that would prevent his core control and regenerative artifice from working would be if something of similar or stronger materials had jammed into it. Otherwise he would either be dead or his system would have absorbed it for parts.
- Reboot Initiated
- Reboot Initiated
- Reboot Initiated
Of the most likely events to have initiated this debilitation upon him the simplest was an explosion of one of the Summoning Artifices which indicated a failure on his part. That was bad enough as it was. The summoning back of the Soul Matrices was a one time chance. A gamble. The energies got geometrically harder to harness back into alignment with the molecular vibrations of their body vessels as time progressed.
Because of the vibrational aspect of the body vessel to its original ‘Soul’ it had to be done right the first time to call it back. If the Science, Aether, and Artifice was not exactly on track it could potentially lead to ‘Bad Things’ happening. Do it wrong and the Void could enter instead. Which is how the very first Demon Lords had gained access to the world.
- Reboot Initiated
- Reboot Initiated
- Reboot Initiated
Now if only he could sense anything other than darkness. His entire existence was the attempted initiation of his personal Artifice CyberNeuro systems reboot sequence. The techno-organic components of his body would slowly rebuild his damaged body, even if they had to replace what few regular organics remained. However a functional body would be useless without the Artifice Interface required to link his consciousness to reality.
- Reboot Initiated
- Reboot Initiated
- Reboot Initiated
The other consideration that truly scared him was that his safehold was compromised and either the Void had claimed the Champions he was trying to save. That one or more of the Fell Demon Lords had breached his safehold.
- Reboot Initiated…. Systems Restoration Diagnostics
- Combat Systems Damaged
- Technical Interface Compromised
- Mobility Impairment Detected
- Molecular Phase Nominal
- Systems Interface Nominal
The list continued onwards with various status listings available. Some time had passed but his Artifice could not calculate it as of yet. His actual vision began to reach through the terminal interface overlay. He began to regain control of a body that felt drained and more than partially crippled.
He opened his eyes to what he most feared. If his Soul Rejoining Summons had been successful then the equipment would have kept the Champions in a comatose state until he could have brought them awake one by one properly. It would have kept them under nearly indefinitely. Instead he saw that something wearing the body of one of the Champions, that of Battles Mistress, had gotten up and was squatting over him. Two others, Xyr and Esenz, were arguing over something in a Language that sounded halting and mumbled. As if their words were spoken with gruel and mash in their mouths.
“No…” he whispered.
As they worked on removing more of the obviously failed support systems he took a cursory look around the room. Something must have drained the power nodes from his equipment as almost nothing seemed active. Those nodes would have kept his room secure for generations. However as he was still alive they must not yet have realized where they were or who they inhabited. That of course would change once they had a chance to familiarize themselves with their new corporeal bodies.
“Void Take you Back! From Whence you came I will Send you Again!”
He reached out a ravaged hand and grabbed the ankle of the Fell One inhabiting Angelica Pentel. Though his flesh was regaining structure and capability it was still too far gone for a fight against one of the Champions let alone three. Perhaps if he leveled the field a little he could take her out before the creature discovered to use Pentel’s Wings. He would have to be fast. His aged and degraded systems took longer to regenerate than any of the Champions of the Created Systems. He should know after all, the Old Man had been one of the people who had helped enhance and uplift the Generals. He was but a minor hailstorm to their Glacial Strength. But a hailstorm hitting at the right angle and point can shatter even the mightiest stone.
As the three turned towards him a lever popped up out of the side of his Artifice control interface. He felt it link to his rooms remaining emergency shunts. ‘Still running thank the Brightness for that.’ Even reduced the nodal points should have enough remaining within to do the job. The Old Man hated to do this, but he felt he was out of options. He mentally entered the command lines to cause the hidden bunker to purge itself and all of its contents randomly along the lines of power of the planet. Hopefully the Fell will be killed off by whatever forces they land into as they reappear. If not, then at least everything would be scattered to the winds and unable to be used to awaken more Demon Lords.
That way he could take out his oldest friend and adopted daughter himself.
The feeling of slamming the control lever in his back home was like shattering of two hearts. Both that of his Sanctum and that of his family given what must be his final task.
Everything faded as the shunt activated. All except for the Void Filled Shell of Angelica and himself. All was replaced by a grassy hill with a line of trees off in the distance. The purple hedge grass was beautiful this time of year. Perhaps if more than just his body survived he would take time to recuperate here.
First though, he struggled up using his staff which he had miraculously managed to keep ahold of. While he did that she jumped back several body lengths and covered up her reproductive area and chest. The move really confused him. It was no combat stance that he had ever seen and defied conception. There was no benefit to it, not for Battles Mistress nor for a Void Demon in possession of her body. Even if the Demon had access to her memories and abilities.
Her Castine features turned furious as she began to rapid fire words in that bizarre tongue she had used earlier.
He gave as a thought command in the particular way required to engage his built in systems. The Old Man felt some of the living gears start to click along a different path and a rush as a hind mounted neural chipset pulled the data from the subether as well as the molecular resonances around him.
Something was truly off.
She took a step towards him. Feet unsteady, obviously still unsure of her own body. After a particularly pithy sounding diatribe she rolled her eyes at him and flung her arms out in a universal sign of exasperation. She grabbed at her hair with both hands briefly before stomping towards him again. He backed up quickly as she did so. After a few times of this she stopped and her voice tonals seemed to change to pleading. There were tears in the corners of her eyes as she gesticulated in a foreign manner.
Finally his Artifice chimed its conclusion.
[Analysis Odd] showed in his vision overlay.
“Relay Artifice.”
[Battles Mistress is not Present.]
“I got that Artifice. Explain.”
[Enhanced Champion created present with analogous Spirit Matrice located within apropos physical boundaries]
[Error Received]
[Registered Enhanced Champion Created in current physical proximity of Non-Registered Spirit Matrice. Incomparable Datum]
[Analysis Odd]
Angelica who was not Angelica stood those several paces in front of him still. No longer attempting to communicate in any way. Just standing there tapping her foot with her arms crossed across her chest. There was no way that something from beyond was playing her body like a puppet. Also there should be no way that she was standing here in front of him with a Spirit Matrice that was not Angelica’s.
In the few hundred cycles of his wandering this war wracked planet he had never encountered any empty vessel receiving a Spirit Matrice from another sourse. Only the Fell from the Void could enter a vessel that was emptied of its originating Spirit.
He would know. He was a Summoner. One of the very few able to affect the molecular resonances of the Aethers of the Universe.
“You are not who you should be.”
She only continued to glare at him and tap her foot.
“Who are you?” His question was rhetorical only as he knew she could not understand him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End Chapter 03
Notes - More chapters are available on my Patreon! Please pop on over and at least comment.
I'm still dedicated to a chapter posted online every week or two, and at least one a week on my Patreon.
I'm also working on a couple other books at the same time. Hopefully I can get them online soon too!
TTFN All.
Summoned: An Accidental Adventure –
Chapter 04
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~Nicholas~
By her count it had been at least an hour since the old geezer had ported them to this strange location. It was an odd looking hill. More of a grassy knoll really. Yet if the body alone was not enough proof that she wasn’t in Kansas anymore then the alien landscape sealed the deal on it. At least the sky was blue here. Even if it was too deep a blue, almost a sapphire blue and startlingly sharp in contrast. Like the super high definition pictures she had seen from mountain expeditions.
Underfoot the grass was more loke broad leafed purple crushed velvet on a stalk. It was sort of like walking on a Super Villains carpet than on any lawn that Nick was familiar with. Off to the side was a copse of trees that looked like a cross between a Douglass Fir and an Orange tree if the fruit like globes at the end of its branches was anything to go by. The sun of the planet was behind an angry dark blue stormfront in the distance. Nick hoped that the Old Man may show some common sense and perhaps poof them some cover before the storm decided to add to the days enjoyment.
All in all she had to give the setting a seven stars out of ten. She subtracted two due to the whole soul-napping thing.
“Alrighty then. Can we get to the whole ‘You Tarzan, Me Jane’ thing already? I’m afraid I have to play the Jane part I guess… kind of lacking the equipment for Tarzan.” She looked around a little then back down at herself. “Though I am kind of built much closer to a savage.”
She was tired of just rambling or cursing at him. Her spleen was now well and truly vented, all that was left was a weary want of returning to herself. For the last while he hadn’t done anything but seem to have a one sided conversation with himself. While he was doing so she could not find any common vocal linguistics between them she was lost as to next steps. If he wasn’t the only potential link to both her friends and getting back home she would be sorely tempted to just go and wander off.
Well… maybe after she mugged him for his cloak. There was no way she was going to attempt adventuring on an alien planet in her brand new birthday suit.
Unfortunately for her sanity that infernal hexadecimal clock was still superimposed in her vision. “C’mon Guy, at least tell me how to turn this damned clock off!”
Almost immediately it left her vision as if it had never been there. “Well, if that doesn’t just beat all. Now. Help menu?” She looked around. “Help system? Interface? Status Menu? Nothing? Damn…”
Still nothing happened. She scowled at the old guy grumpily. He just looked back with a level gaze. Completely unperturbed by her tone.
“Yeah, and it is of course too much to ask for some type of Universe Translator or Mystical Magical God Poofing Ear Canal Fish.”
Tired of the standoff she decided to attempt the more physical approach again. She had been ready for him to get confrontational or argumentative. Something really. Rather he surprised her by gliding backwards in a strange weaving almost float whenever she moved forward. Keeping an exact seven of her paces between the two of them.
At least she was pretty sure it was seven paces of her new body and not her old one. Considering that she had gained almost a whole head in height in the blink of an eye she did feel justified in feeling it all a little bit obnoxious. Not nearly so much so as gaining a pair of breasts, each one the size of her head. In between attempts to move forward she gave a long back popping stretch while considering how much of a pain in the ass they were going to be. About halfway through the stretch Nick remembered her state of dress and rapidly covered at least her bosom in embarrassment.
“This is really going to take some getting used to.”
She looked over at the Old Borg Kenoby look alike. His skin at least didn’t look nearly as horrible as when she first uncovered him. Was he self repairing like her skin had after removing all the shit from the room that was in it?
“Having no way to talk with you is going to get real old real quick you know.”
He clacked gutturally back at her but otherwise remained inscrutable. After several moments he didn’t say anything else and she had had enough of him. Instead of continuing on with the insanity of getting the same results for the same attempts she took a different track.
It was time to see if this ‘grass’ was really as comfortable to sit on as it appeared. Turns out the shin high stuff really was comfortable.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~Felix~
Felix and Malachai watched in terror as the grizzled cyber-mummy had grabbed Nicks ankle and disappeared with their recently Amazonified friend. Things began to fade from view into a sort of hazy gray nothingness.
“Nick!” He managed to get out before everything faded from view.
His and Malachai’s bickering now seemed petty and childish to him as the room itself faded from view second by second. He felt his friend grab on to him, a desperation in her hold that mirrored his own. Sure the fascination and friendly banter had kept a chittering terror at bay prior, but now it had slammed into him full force.
That had happened an hour ago now. At least as the two of them had been able to determine. The world had faded back into being. The two of them were there, as well as part of the bed he had awoken on. However, now it was on the side of a dirt road running through some sort of rural town. The varying types of building styles and technologies was not as bad as the elliptical room they had found themselves in. That wasn’t saying much though. There were some brick buildings and some scrap metal buildings. One building though looked like something he would expect to see in a Star Wars movie.
At least the population that had been staring at them seemed to be nominally human. For the most part. Some seemed extra-ordinary, like the horse teamster with four arms or the woman with the head of a sparrow. The most common theme was mostly human though. Even the five individuals who held them at gun and swordpoint.
“Felix”
“Yes?”
“I know when sword win in gunfight.”
“You don’t say.” Felix was standing there self consciously under the watch of their guard. “How does a sword win then?”
‘When swordsman partner is gunfighter.” She answered in her distractingly whispery voice.
He looked over for a moment. “Really? We are butt assed naked in some B-Rate movie’s village being held by who knows what Warlords troops and that’s what you come up with?”
She shrugged. “Silence getting me. Better speak than go mad.. Ne?”
They both shut up again when the guard wearing some type of gauntlets inspired by Pinhead gestured at them and spoke in some kind of guttural click clacking words.
“No speak-ze post apocalyptical mumbly jumbo.” Felix responded having secretly wanting to use a line like that for much of his life.
Malachai elbowed him sharply. “Really? Shut mouth you.”
The man pointed at the two of them then said something else. After a time they found themselves bundled off to a sort of jail. It didn’t take them long to get there and they weren’t processed in like Felix was familiar with from back home in Southern California. It wasn’t bad really, and the holding cells were better than the times he had been arrested for warrants due to unpaid traffic tickets and such. A decently large room with a comfortable cloth cot. The toilet was even semi-private. There was a set of bars separating the four cells apart. He and Malachai occupied two of the cells and what looked like a drunk was sleeping off a bender in another.
Something else they had learned was that in daylight his skin became like a pleasant view of the sapphire sky. Clouds and all. Not the sky above them though, almost as if they were viewing through him to another point on the planet. Regardless of where the angle was that Malachai viewed him from. He could get lost just looking into his hand at any time really. Once out from the orange tinted sun’s rays though he ended up back in his starlit norm.
Meanwhile Malachai’s slight opalescence positively beamed in a brilliant iridescent shimmer when any light was on shined onto her flesh. Making her seem carved from a pure pearl when at rest. In motion she was as breathtaking as her whispery voice could be. It was abso-blumin-utely distracting to Felix as neither had yet been given any clothes and felix still considered Malachai a guy.
So far no one had spoken English or any other recognizable language. It would probably make getting a job rather hard around here he was sure. Out of the corner of his eye Felix caught an iridescent movement. “Hey! Knock that off!”
Malachai stopped her gymnastic warmup routine to give him a playful wink. “What. Problem with what see?” She bounced a couple of times before bending backwards to grab her ankles. “Body limber. Different. Need to know limits. You do same?”
He had turned his head away from her antics knowing he will probably never be able to get that latest mental image out of his head. “That sounds smart man, but can’t you wait until they at least give us some clothes?”
She only laughed at him. “This best time ‘Man’. Should examine body. It not human, it different. Have circuitry, have cybernetic or bionic part. Need know how use.”
While he wasn’t looking he heard what sounded like flesh hitting floor and clapping on flesh again in rapid succession. With a sigh he turned to look back to see what it was that Malachai was up to. It turned out that she was doing handless back and front flips. Her capability left him absolutely floored. To be able to do even a running flip was beyond it, yet here was his friend just popping back and forth like a demented supercharged Mexican jumping bean. After a few more sets she stopped and turned to face him. He saw her standing there, not even perspiring. A quizzical look on her face.
“What? You no see gymnastic practice?”
He finally found his voice. “No, not like that. How did you do that?”
“Years practice. You test body now. I help, observe.”
Felix didn’t really have a clue as to what she wanted him to do and it probably showed on his face.
After several moments of non-action she finally gave him an instruction. “Stretch.”
She walked him through various body postures and maneuvers. Much to his discomfort he found. They discovered in quick order that the was indeed much more limber as well as stronger than before. Since Felix had never trained in any sport or otherwise he didn’t know the forms mentally to do any of the cool stuff that she was able to do so. Though Malachai did not that Felix’s body had been trained in martial arts if nothing else.
During their experimentation one of the town guards came in and talked at them in that bizarre sounding language. His uniform was a sort of a cross between urban military camouflage and Spanish Conquistador. A sort of forward curving longsword was on his hip and a snub nosed assault rifle rested on a strap on his shoulder. Otherwise he looked like a highschooler with longish hair and a bad attempt at a mustache on his upper lip.
Malachai stopped helping him for a moment to walk up to the bars of her cell. She clasped her hands behind her back and jutted her chest out a little bit watching the youngsters uncomfortable expression. Her sweet whispery voice soothing to the ears. “You no understand word I say. So I say nonsense. Just Gobbledegook that mean no thing. We just Alien after all. No matter if I call ass badger or face of rutting baboon.”
The youths adams apple bobbed as he swallowed, attempting to stave off arousal. He gestured with his sword hand, the words he replied with were just as unknowable to them as theirs to him.
“You like what see? Oh yes you do, but is me or is my friend?”
Felix was feeling a bit scandalized at this point. “Seriously Dude?”
She looked over her shoulder at him coquettishly. “In America just like Romania woman use body to get what want. What wrong here?”
“Because you’re a guy?” Still scandalized. Very much so.
If Felix thought that his statement held any weight with his friend her response cleared him of that illusion.
“You think I guy right now?” Said with a quiet laugh. “These look like belong to guy? And no tell me you no look between legs. I know you check out.”
“What’s wrong with you Malachai? I would never be ok with that. I’m a guy and I know you were never gay. So why are you suddenly acting like some porn vixen?”
Malachai laughed harder than before. Still not a loud laugh by any means but it was still far to pleasant sounding to Felix’s ears for his peace of mind. If she had been anyone other than one of his best friends he would actually be alright with her state of undress. Well maybe if it was back on Earth as he was stridently sure they were not on Earth. She slowed down and dropped all mannerisms she had been putting on. Off to the side the young guard watched mesmerized and looked unsure of what he was supposed to do.
“Felix, I woman now. Am in strange land. In strange body. Only you friend left. No one else. So I act like Romanian woman and speak like when arrive in States as if I act like Old Malachai I break down.” She dropped her pidgin and spoke proper, if whispery, English. Her voice gaining in intensity as she continued. “Do you think this is easier for me? To be given a woman’s body with a pillow talk voice? Your body is changed, sure. Your skin nothing but a starry field. But… You. Are. Still. A. MAN!!!”
Even yelling her voice was a sultry whisper, one that seemed to permeate the world around though. Leaving the aftersound of an echo without any actual echo present.
She dropped back into her more comfortable mode of pidgin as she quietly continued. “In Romania women often property. Or treated like. Body not choice, naked not choice, place not choice. How act is choice. So I have fun, I tease. I act like women of America or Hollywood. May be act, but act I can enjoy. If you problem Keep to self.”
He looked away in shame. Felix knew he had not really considered how Malachai had felt and had instead projected his own views and feelings onto her situation. “I’m sorry man. I hadn’t considered, pretty stupid of me right?”
“Good. That progress. But as said, I woman now. Please be calling me such till I back to proper self.”
Once the two of them calmed down a touch from venting their spleens at each other the guard said something and walked forward.
“I think he wants us to step back.”
“You think?” Malachai teased but also backed up.
The Guard pressed his hand against what Felix had thought was a key lock but seemed to act like a biometric pad. Both doors slid open and he gestured for them to follow. The motion was obvious to even Felix as the two of them found themselves being led through a hallway where awaited another guard. This one was large and had skin that looked black as obsidian. If not for Felix’s own ability to stargaze through his own thigh he may have been taken aback. The guards led them into a sort of tribunal style courtroom with five people standing behind a long horseshoe curved style bench.
“Don’t look now, but I think we’ve found the town council.”
“You obtuse.” Malachai snipped. “Not look like any choice.”
The tall black skinned guard stated something authoritative that probably meant something like “Quiet Down” or “All Rise”.
“What I wouldn’t give for some translator microbes.” Though it was quiet Malachai still heard it and managed a chuckle at the reference.
A woman behind the bench began to speak. She carried on for some length after which a younger and rotund gentleman picked up where she left off. A third who looked like he was cosplaying as George Jetson said something and gestured at both Felix and Malachai.
After some time he repeated himself and gestured again.
“Sorry George. As my friend said earlier you don’t understand anything I’m saying so I’ll just say gobblygook.”
It looked like the pudgy man was losing patience but as he began to speak the center woman cut him off and nodded to the Mr. Jetson impersonator. He spoke again, sort of like a public servant giving a speech. Everyone listened then devices of various design lowered behind each of them and glowed in just as many different styles.
One of the guards spoke briefly then nodded.
Felix looked over at Malachai. “Wonder what that was about.”
Three of the people including the short pudgy one laughed at the guards statement. Then the guard made another one that caused Mr. Jetson’s skin to flush crimson in agitation.
“We butt of Joke?”
“I think that someone just referred to us as Astro and he is trying to advocate for us.”
“We no dog. Monkey’s? Yes. Dog no.”
“Speak for yourself, I’m a stargazing Aardvark.”
The obsidian guard barked something rather nasty at the two of them. Once the room was quiet again the woman standing in the center made something that was like a closing statement and clapped her hands once with authority.
Felix was about to make another quip when something hard and metallic closed around his neck from behind. Beside him the same happened to Malachai, she began to speak rapidly in Romanian then suddenly dropped boneless to the floor.
“Hey! Don-“ He never finished his statement as something like touching a live electric wire flooded his brain chasing him into darkness.
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End Chapter 04
Authors Notes –
New world, new languages, new situations. No Universal Translators, No magical Ear Fish, no Translator Microbes, and no simple Deus Ex Machina communications where everyone seems to speak English though there is NO rational explanation for it (even including universal translators. Otherwise when someone curses in Klingon then the Translator would Translate that). Everyone has to learn by being pitched into the deep end. BWA HA HA HA… *cough* *cough* I meant to laugh like that. Really I did…. Heh.
Summoned: An Accidental Adventure –
Chapter 05
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~Chris~
Things came slowly into focus as Chris swam up from the realms of unconsciousness. It seemed dark beyond his closed eyelids. Strangely he also felt heavy. Not an exhausted heavy, but rather the difference of being behind the wheel of an economy car versus slamming the gas of a high end Dodge Challenger.
He did not really know what was going on, just that though he had a lot of aches and pains he was non-the-less comfortable. Sort of like being in a nice bed after an all-night bar crawl. The residual headache and body stiffness seemed to be receding and rather than move Chris decided it would be more prudent to just lay there continuing to relax. Things could wait for now.
As he lay there he thought that maybe he could just stay there for the better portion of the day in a semi-conscious dozy blisses. If not for a warm damp cloth that came down onto the left side of his chest that is. He felt a pair of feminine hands that were tenderly moving the cloth around. He mumbled in a sort of sleepy comfort while his brain woke up the rest of the way. One of the hands began to trace patters on his left arm causing him to open his eyes.
There was a pretty young woman in a metallic silver body tube cloth wrap. She had violet hair and seemed to be giving him some sort of ‘sponge’ bath. He was perfectly alright with that. Though he did have a spark of curiosity with the whole punk hair color with slave style dress. He had had worse wake ups however, so who was he to complain. Perhaps he went to an AnimeCon after party and they were still in character or something?
He was about to put his head back down and just enjoy the sensations until something about his skin caught his attention. For some reason something was not clicking with his brain. Facts were not aligning, for instance he knew that there was a difference to him but he could not quite nail it down.
Not fully understanding it Chris came to full consciousness and sat up spilling the slight woman off the bunk. She scrambled back up giving him all sorts of scoldings in an unknown language. At least he thought they were scoldings, the tone was correct as well as her expression. That brought his attention back to her where he noticed a metal collar on her neck against her tan skin. Chris only knew of a few settings where such a thing was considered normal. He hoped this was one of better ones and not one of the worse ones. Except for the niggling thoughts at the back of his mind that focused on her mannerisms and looks. That it was not a costume that she wore.
“What the hell did I do las… the Hell!?”
His voice came back to him. Deep and rumbling. Melodious in a very ominous fashion. Not his voice at all. Sort of like a James Earl Jones rather than the whiney Mark Hamil that he had always considered himself to be in possession of. How the change came about made as much sense as his new surroundings. Meaning, none at all.
That became a secondary consideration as he lifted his hands up to look at them. So large and strong. Not his hands, rather they looked to be made of smoothly carved stone. Malleable as he could move them, yet when he tapped his thigh it sounded like two rocks clacking together.
While he was experimenting the woman was really laying into him with her verbose verbal trouncing.
“Look lady. I do not understand a word you’re saying.” He did not look at her as he talked, he was too busy inspecting his strangely changed form. All of his body looked to be finely finished grey and charcoal granite. Not patchy but whorled and veined as if carved from a single deep earth obelisk. Soft to touch when pushed slowly and rock solid at any faster speed. He was bare of everything but a small cream colored wrap around his waist. He guessed that the stone continued all the way beneath it. Unlike his friend Felix he definitely had no need to verify it visually. The little perv would absolutely had done so regardless of surroundings after all.
Chris was far from finished with figuring himself at this point but he turned his attention to the woman who had been apparently ministering to him while unconscious. She really was a pretty little thing. As long as he was about the same height as before his analytical mind placed her at about five foot two. Maybe five foot three. She was slim and reasonably well built. Long and slightly wild violet hair that had a few pink streaks through it. Large soulful hazel eyes. A good body tan that may be natural rather than from the sun.
As he didn’t really know what was going on he felt it best not to ogle her.
Any other reference points were straight out the window at this point. His hand were much more hamhocked sledgehammers than the slimmer mechanics hands he remembered. His torso had to be at least twice as wide as before and his overly muscled thighs looked as big as his old torso. What he could not tell was his height. Was he six feet tall? Seven? Or was he a pebble to his old self and now of truly Liliputian scale?
“I feel like Atrayu’s friend Rock Crusher.” The woman cocked her head at him as if trying to understand his words. “Never mind, Sebastion would get it.”
His inspections and thoughts were interrupted when another pretty face poked her head around the corner. A brunette with long braided hair blue eyes and pale skin. She rambled something authoritative to them. The violet haired gal nodded and then pushed on his chest to try to get him to lay down again. He felt no reason not to, he was totally relaxed once more after all. A thought tried to force it into his brain and he attempted to resist it a bit, but the relaxation overrode it. He floated into that blissful state once again. His mind comfortably numb on some type of cloud. Body being tended to in a pleasant environment. The details of everything did not matter. Various peoples came and went in the timeless day, the only constant was that nice violet haired girl who was frequently tracing his muscles or massaging him. Sometimes he was poked or prodded but it never really amounted to much. As long as the gal was there then what was the problem.
Sometime later he came aware of himself again. This time he was standing on a stage looking over a large group of… things. It looked like Jim Hensons Studio had an orgy with J.J. Abrams special effects monsters and their bastard offspring all gathered to form a mosh pit. Up above it all on a stage made of stone he stook naked and strangely calm. He didn’t really understand the serenity as a pair of what he could swear were Skeksi’s argued with a Mogui nearby. Across from them was a slug headed creature with a large woman’s body dressed in a toga with an entourage of men that had their faces in their chest with no head above the shoulders. Near the back was a semi-mechanical giant crab on mechanized birdlike legs instead of the normal spiderlike ones. Only a very few actual human looking beings were present and all of them wore the slave-like garb of the violet haired woman who was standing several feet away. She held a leash which was attached to the collar that he found around his neck.
He observed this all with clinical detachment. Filing as much information as he could for a later as he was sure there was not much he could do standing nude in front of the menage of creatures on a stage as an apparent slave in an auction.
The maelstrom of noise and visuals continued for a time until the sound of a great gong rang over the din of the crowd. A wave of quiet moved over the beings and all of the creatures turned towards the stage. Chris felt a tug on his leash and it seemed a good idea to follow as the girl led him around the stage. He wasn’t concerned about it right now. More important was to continue what felt as a type of a routine to him as he walked in her path. Her point of familiarity provided a comfort to him in the strange world.
Some series of laps later as well as many yelled statements finally found Chris led compliantly off the stage to a small pit. There stood a tall blue skinned being with four spindly arms no hair and four obsidian eyes set above and below its nose, easily half again his current height. He was dropping plastic looking coins into the hands of a green humanoid with patchy brown fur on his visible skin. The green one motioned to Chris and his handler as he had come to think of her.
Whatever it said seemed to really piss her off as she began to argue back. He could now feel anger at this green skinned idiot who had no clue as to real value. For now he stayed his aggression while the violet haired woman yelled and stormed in that strange language of theirs. It was not yet time for violence, but he had a nearly insatiable urge to slap the arrogant slaver. This feeling stayed with him through a few rounds between the two. Then in final resignation he felt a resentful ennui creep in as realization came to him that no matter what he needed to follow. The violet haired girl led him after the tall and gaunt blue skinned monster.
They walked through the city which was strange horrifying and wonderful all at the same time. He took in the sights but still felt that odd resignation tinged with resentment and now disgust. They had to have walked about five or six miles by his reckoning at this point If he was still about six feet tall that is. No matter the distance he didn’t feel any physical weariness or exhaustion as he tromped in his new mountain of a body. He followed after the woman who was the only one showing care to him in this new mystery of a world.
Eventually they got to where they were going when the trio stopped next to a large open metal surfaced platform. The being that had led them here gestured his two thin right arms at the pad and barked out an order. Though it sounded more like a phlegmy cough with some words mixed within.
Resentment rose. How dare this thing order them around. He flexed his muscles and rolled his neck around. The feeling of ill will helping him to prepare to put this… thing… in its place for interrupting his routine.
Another bark out came from it and Chris rose to the balls of his feet in defense of his violet haired companion. Then… Anger fled into fear. He felt the consequences of a poor choice compiling in on everything else. He felt his future compact down to a singular point of horror. The woman came back to him and leaned into his chest. She was crooning something that felt of peace and calm. Her very presence brought the eye of a storm to his troubled waters.
Chris pulled her close to him and leaned down to smell her hair which seemed to remind him of open fields in summer.
The blue skinned thing laughed cruelly at Chris’s comforting of the woman he felt compassion towards. His ire spiked back up at it. How dare this Creature speak this way. He began to move the lady behind him for protection. In the process of doing so he felt himself get control of his anger once again. She continued to pet his chest and croon some strange melody. It was not long until he had his emotions fully back under his control. He needed to be in control. Anything could be coming his way and he didn’t know the landscape.
He felt the cool metal under his stonelike feet as they walked as they walked to its center. The platform was about two dozen feet wide and was cobalt in color. Chris wanted to feel surprise as it rose into the air effortlessly. With everything else that had happened to him since waking up though he just could not must any emotion towards it other than the statement of ‘Neat’. Which he muttered internally because he didn’t yet feel safe talking around these creatures that he seemed to be now enslaved by. The next few hours passed quickly. He felt some of his emotions fray a bit yet the violet haired woman’s presence and voice soothed him back to center each time.
Finally the platform landed at the base of a great sone faced building. Something like a mansion made out of huge slabs of rock rather than a castles smaller construction materials. The smallest single piece he could see hat to be at least a dozen feet tall by several feet wide. The thing that seemed to be his new Master yelled out commands in its grating guttural voice. Two human-like women came out.
The first was the closest to human with long legs sporting a second knee reversed from the first, sort of like depictions of werewolf legs from fantasy and anime. Except hers were well shaved and very feminine. Tawny skin, brown hair, and blue eyes completed her looks. The other was a bit less human as she looked very androgenous with four legs. The first two almost like normal and then a thin torso between the front and rear set. Which were had the reverse knee joint like a horses rear legs. All were very feminine looking and with mostly normal human feet. She had short hair in a mohawk that led down her neck and he guessed all the way down her backbone ending in a horse-like hair tail that was off her rear. Would she be some sort of humataur then? Both were dressed in a similar manner to the woman who had come with him from the slave auction.
Upon their gesture he and Violet as he was coming to think of her were led into the building. They followed the buildings skirting outside to a side entrance of course. No one talked and Chris once more settled into a sort of resigned despondency. For some reason it didn’t matter that he couldn’t understand anyone. It felt like being relegated to the bottom run once again.
He was led inside and down to below ground. Through a twisting maze the archaic building gave way to stone tunnels lit by both torch and glowing sconces. Through hallways, tunnels, down twisting ramps, and further, he was eventually let into a cavern deep in the earth. He could see well regardless of whether it was an area that was well lit or an area shrouded in darkness. There were whole tiers of cells along the walls of the large area. The smallest seemed to be hobbit or halfling sized. The largest would easily hold a couple of elephants or so. There didn’t seem to be a rhyme or reason about the size or placement of any of them. One of the largest ones was almost five whole levels above the ground while at the floor level he was still on were several of the tiny cells. The bars were just as different too, not all metal. Some were stone others looked to be made of wood or bamboo. One cell higher up even seemed to be made of some type of energy beams like in a science fiction show.
From there the two led him and Violet further into one of the multitudes of hallways off the cavern holding area. This one off of the second tier, which of course meant they needed to walk up a long ramp to reach it. He didn’t seem interested in paying attention to the pits and devices in the center of the cavern. It just never occurred to him as they walked. He noted it in the back of his mind as he did know it wasn’t normal for him, yet it still was not really worth his while as they walked along. The tunnel they walked down now was very poorly lit. Only by oil lamps with single open flame wicks. Eventually they led him into a very large room carved into the side of the tunnel. It was enclosed with wide spaced stone that seemed to be part of the room, grown like stalactites and stalagmites from the ceiling and floor. Though he was pretty sure they were tougher than normal mineral deposits for some reason.
Violet walked in before him, still holding his leash. A worried feeling began to creep in and she stepped into him, once again crooning her calming song. He felt his caring nature rise once more and reached to bring her close to reaffirm to her that they were safe. That she would be safe as long as he was around. She went up onto tiptoes and whispered something in that still strange language into his ear before kissing him gently on the cheek.
She then removed the leash, but not the collar and stepped backwards retreating out of the room slowly and carefully. Violet made sure to maintain eye contact the whole way with her large soulful eyes that began to shimmer with tears. She turned and fled quickly out of the cave cell as the door to the room slammed shut. His last impression of her was a streamer of violet hair and a bare calf as she vanished around the corner.
Now he was left with the other two standing outside. Immediately everything came clear. Just like that a veil was lifted. He staggered back in confusion as lucidity almost literally hit him in the eyes. For the first time in what had to have been days his mind, his thoughts, his emotions, and his soul were his own.
“That fucking WITCH!” His voice almost seemed to rock the very walls.
“Bitch! Slaving Whoremonger! She was Controlling me!”
Chris was now right damned infuriated. Somehow he had been removed not only from home but also from his very body. He knew that somehow that Violet haired harridan was partially or wholly responsible for his new incarceration.
The two escorts watched him through the bars. The biped with an absence of any emotion and the quadruped with what seemed to be a sharklike hunger. They turned and left him as he looked around the very plain room. Only a small sleeping pallet was off to the side. Worse yet, it looked like it was made of simple bundled straw. Otherwise he was only surrounded by stone that looked as tough as his new flesh.
“Bitch…”
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End Chapter 05
Here's another chapter y'all. Also, up to Chapter 8 on my Patreon, working on 9 and 10 today. Hopefully have them uploaded so I can get Ch 06 uploaded by the end of the week. I try to stay at least 4 chapters ahead there, so that I don't miss a beat on my regular public postings! I don't wanna end up as one of those amazing Disappearing, Reappearing, Disappearing authors.
Summoned: An Accidental Adventure –
Chapter 06
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~Nicholas~
“Nmmneeeiiioooiii-klkkll-hisss.”
“No. Damnit. Not that.” A pause then. “N-ee-ko-el-ah-ss. Neek-oh-las.”
“Nniieeiiklackchkless.”
She could not stand this yet she needed to. The Old Man’s butchering of her name was worse than a bad Godzilla dub job. It was almost like he could not even form the N’s and M’s without severe strain. He also had complete trouble with vowel sounds and ended up seriously over stressing them.
The two of them had been at it for the last half hour, but at least she had gotten him to recognize that it was her name. It was better than the initial ‘Eeeek’ he had been calling her when she did the classic ‘Me Nick’ finger pointing.
He rattled something off in his own language, Nick wasn’t sure about the specifics but she was confident that it wasn’t very cheery.
The better part of the day had passed. Evening would be here sooner than later. In that time she had learned that the Old Man was a grumpy and vocal teacher apt to old school methods. Which meant that Nick had learned that he held no compulsion against thwacking her a good one if she frustrated him too much. Luckily it appeared as if she could take a good thump or three. Especially when she had gotten pissed with him earlier and had attempted to pick him up by the scruff.
That had not gone well for her.
As soon as his feet had left the ground a device on his staff spun up with a high pitched whine. He then stepped to his left into nothingness. Like the air had been solid ground as he pushed out of her grip behind a wall in empty space. She had been left there holding only the tactile memory of homespun cloth.
The next thing she knew something hit her lower back.
Hard.
Nick had spun to face whatever it was only to catch the Old Man’s staff to the jaw as he stepped out of thin air on her other side. When she had recovered he stepped backwards into nothingness once more.
That had continued for several minutes as he proceeded to show her what would happen if she dared to lay hands on him again. Nick learned two things about herself then. First was that she could move with a capital M when she wanted to. She was several times faster and stronger than anything outside of comic books back home. The other was that even though she could feel it as fully painful as in her old life she could take a beating without a mark.
It had still taken a few more hours of pantomiming and pseudo charades to get him to understand at a least a little bit of why she was frustrated. As well Nick was able to tell that he had absolutely no social stigmas about nudity. It wasn’t even that he showed any inclination that he was enjoying the sight of her new body. It was more like it truly didn’t matter. So when he cut a few strips off the hem of his cloak so she could make a rudimentary loin cloth it seemed to be just as much an epiphany to him as well.
At least the cool of the night did not bother her, nor did the rocks beneath her bare feet. It wasn’t that her skin was calloused or tougher down there than the rest of her. It was more that the environment didn’t harm her as much.
“I bet this is how Wonder Woman feels much of the time.” She paused and put her finger to her chin. “Well maybe Wonder Woman with a liberal mix of Red Sonja. All I need is a good old sword and my own Conan backup singers.”
The old man stopped walking along the path they were on and turned to look at her. He cocked his head to the side and clacked something at her.
“Hey I get it. Klickeryclackiti fun time, right?”
She was pretty sure he had said something about setting up camp. With her luck she had responded saying something about the tequila’s worm and his sisters nether regions poor hygiene. He seemed to take no notice of her though as he began to draw a circle in the dark brown dirt next to the path they walked on. It was one of those type of travelers way area dirt stopping points next to a dirt road she saw in so many games. That must have been how it was like in medieval times. A large oval of dirt a couple dozen paces wide off to the side of the road or whatever.
Shortly the Old Man had completed the circle he was drawing three times. Immediately he stepped out of it and a purplish bruise colored stone rose out of the dirt to create a firepit. He then went a pace away and acted similarly to raise up a pair of rock seats. Since the wrinkled mummy had done this a few times prior on other nights it was losing the novelty it once had. Yet it still fascinated Nick. Such a simple application of camp magic. She hoped that one day the language barrier would be breached so that she could find out how to cast similar things.
Routine being routine Nick went into the purple felt grass to look for some tubers she had learned to look for. They were sort of like spongy yams that tasted like a cross between duck and broccoli. An odd thing that at least after cooking over a fire was very filling. Once back from her search with about five of the things she groaned for the next part of their daily routine.
It was now time for pointy namey time.
She wished that it was her teaching him English. Nick was realistic enough to understand that she was the stranger in this strange land and therefore the one that needed to learn.
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~Chris~
In the cavelike cell Chris contemplated the disastrous dream world he found himself in. For if it was not a dream then it may be too horrible to contemplate.
His body was bad enough. Nothing like his prior one. It felt things in a completely different manner. He could see in all bands of light he had discovered and only seemed to need sleep as a way to pass the boredom. He was pretty sure he was no longer human, in fact he doubted this body was ever human. He could not even contemplate what had happened to cause this effect. With no one to talk to in the last however long it had been he had not even been able to ask or otherwise. The only sounds he could hear were the screams of the caverns denizens, and the guttural language that reminded him of a toddler cursing at him in infernal using the vocal cords of a strung out rockstar way past his prime. He had no way to tell time, at all. Being underground with no light source other than what his captors allowed meant that he couldn’t even tell things based on any schedule. Plus his time sense was skewed. He always was a patient man, except now he was sure that he was even more patient than ever before.
It was like he didn’t find any discomfort at not having any mental stimuli other than what he thought up for himself. He could go still at the drop of a pin in any position he chose. Once he locked his muscles in place they didn’t feel fatigue in any way. It was as if he became stone for a fact. He had also learned that he only needed to breath when he wanted to. If it wasn’t so built into his core, he probably wouldn’t even do so at any time. His chest seemed to be closer to housing a bellows than functional lungs. He didn’t feel any change in self no matter how much air he took in. And he could take in a LOT. Somehow he could inhale far past what a conceivable lung in a chest his size could possibly contain. As if he had a gas compressor built in. The most he had pushed it last time had to have been at least five minutes or so straight of sucking in air like a drowning man upon reaching the surface.
The last break in the monotony so far had been hours ago when the Violet haired witch creature who had controlled him stopped by to deliver food. That odd type of empathic pushing ability of hers was not going to catch him off guard again. He stayed far enough away from her that she could not touch him, he was pretty sure that was how she used it. Through touch, or the collar. He was not quite sure, but he was not about to let her attempt to get him under her sway again. As far as he knew she was helping out with some of the other caged creatures that may or may not be sentient as far as he knew.
The only things that communicated as far as he was aware seemed to be his jailors. Especially the quadruped who seemed to be the nastiest of the bunch. He had seen them cross in front of his own cage a few times. The latest one was a while ago when she and the Brunette with the extra jointed legs came into view holding the leash of monstrous cross between a wolfhound and a horse. With eight legs. The creature had made a snarling chomp at the bars as it passed.
He was brought out of his thoughts where he sat in the darkest recesses of his cage. A young serving boy wearing what Chris had come to think of as a slaves wrap and a metal collar came to stop before the bars. He looked around into the enclosure for a moment before doing a sort of double blink. A sort of nictating membrane folded from the inside to the outside inside of his regular eyelids. After that the boy was able to focus on Chris who was out of the lamplight thunking one of his knuckles on the ground.
‘Huh… guess that gives him night vision?’
A clacking guttural sound echoed from off to the side. The kid looked that way and gurgled something in reply before running off.
Chris carefully repeated it to himself noting that the inflection seemed to be at the beginning and not at the end. “That how they ask a question? Or is it just a boy being petulant…”
Since finally coming to himself after they had locked him in here he had been slowly studying those nearby. Especially the language. It was only in the barest bits and pieces. He was pretty sure he understood ‘food’, ‘get back’ as well as ‘come’. As well as several other very simple commands.
What he was not so sure of was his abilities to repeat or use the words. Especially in proper context. That would be too easy after all.
‘Least the area isn’t too cold. Or is it that my body is more resilient?’ He internalized rather than making any other noise.
Which was relatively true. Sitting or laying on the hard floor was not uncomfortable. There may be no give to it but it seemed his body didn’t need a soft bed to rest.
He continued to practice the boy’s words quietly, feeling odd using the back of his tongue and throat to make the appropriate noises. Currently he was a prisoner as far as he was concerned. A slave with no knowledge of what was going on. That would not always be the case, and Chris was determined to come out on top. One way or another.
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End Chapter 06
Sorry for the short chapter. Next one is a bit larger to make up for it.
Post Script -
So for shiggles and ghits I was watching my MiastriSs playlist and this song kept popping out at me as I was writing.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_tSWSpvNT1Y&list=RD_tSWSpvNT...
I don’t know Russian but I truly love this artist and listen to all her stuff. But without knowing the words, it doesn’t take much to understand what the song is about of course.
Also... I seem to have gotten myself the distracted. My Steamdeck came in last week while working on chapters 09 and 10.
I.... uhmmm... sowwies.....
I can not believe how much fun that thing was to play. So... I didn't finish the last two chapters as I had promised.
My Bads *bows head in shame*
The Old Man as illustrated by my Troll Artist friend!
Summoned: An Accidental Adventure –
Chapter 07
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~James~
The man in front of James could have come straight out of a Christian Dior commercial. If it was also mixed with a Star Wars Franchise movie that is.
Overly large alien eyes with white pupils and cobalt where the whites should be. No facial hair what-so-ever and sort of feathers instead of hair on his head. He was also tall and willowy. To make matters better James knew that as frustrated as he currently was he should not stare at the being. Rather attempt to properly repeat the gurgle clicks of their language.
More to the point, he had learned not to say anything in English while under the auspices of the alien looking creatures tutelage. Not that he had anything to complain about regarding anything as gauche as ‘alien’.
Sometime, a few local days ago, he had woken up in a heat of strange equipment. Under an strange sky in a body not his own. Aching like a car wreck victim he still had managed to extricate himself. He would not complain about his body. It was a great body. In prime condition. Far better than the heavyset one left in another world. Yet it was not exactly human. Close yes, but not quite. Analogous perhaps, all the same digits and limbs. In the same proportions no less. Yet he was sure it was cybernetic from the panel over his heart that looked like it belonged on Darth Vaders chest. As well as the metallic hash like marks on his forearms and calves. They bent and flexed as if flesh to a degree but when he tapped them they were definitely not made of tattooed skin.
It was the dusky rose skin and the soft ankle length hair that had strands as thick as thin wires that sealed the deal for him. He could even feel all along the hair, its surface as sensitive as the skin on his arms. Luckily he could also control it. Not well and it was something he was not yet willing to share with those he found himself with. It was easier to control as a mass in a braid but if he concentrated hard he could make the individual strands behave.
His instructor motioned at a ball and clicked twice. One low pitched one high with a nasal echo. James attempted it but could not quite get the nose effect. The failure gained a laugh. Sort of. Like a laugh was cut off right at the beginning by a figurative magical sword. At least laughter seemed to cross the language barrier. He attempted again, knowing that until he got it right he would be standing right there at a sort of parade rest.
Overall James had been treated well by whatever group had found him. They had clothed him in something like unpadded bicycle shorts and nothing else. As many of the strange menage creatures wore little clothing if anything he counted himself lucky for even that little bit. James considered his good circumstances here in this dream that just wouldn’t end. For if he was in his old body he may have found himself automatically one of the downtrodden slaves he had seen. Regular humans of exceptionally good looks seemed to be given a good place as an enslaved people. Anyone who was less than a perfect ten though was nearly unseen and did the most unpleasant tasks of the feudal-like fortress he found himself in.
Another conundrum that James had observed was that there was very little repetition of body features to the beings here. Though the humancentric appreciation of aesthetics was the most applicable one didn’t have to have the same number of limbs or even heads to fall under that aesthetic. The overall feel was that it was produced by a very high end budget Warner Brothers or Fox Studio’s television show. Yet this not quite anime wet dream come true reality wasn’t going away. Even when he went to sleep.
The first couple of days James had been here he had treated it with the bemused indifference of being in an ultra real lucid dream. By the morning of the third day worries began to set it.
Especially for his mother. He was not sure what she would do with him suddenly not there. Was he in a Coma and this was just a Coma dream? Dead and waiting for the next life? Was it purposeful or was he here by accident. Nothing really made sense. All he could do was to play along for now.
At least they had pushed the language lesons on him. It would have been something he would have wanted regardless, but this simplified things for him greatly.
All this was in the back of his mind as he valiantly attempted to say ‘Ball’ or perhaps it was ‘Sphere’ in their language.
The teacher seemed to finally have enough and a long taloned arm snaked out and slashed his shoulder viciously.
“No -x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x- Bad -x-x-x-x- -x-x-x-x- -x- -x-x-x-x-x-x-x- Bad -x-x-x-x-x-x- -x-x- -x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x- -x-x-x-x- -x- Again.”
Only the three words made some sort of sense. At least he had figured them out… roughly. Instead of lashing out or defending himself he stood there as his shoulder bled. He attempted ‘Ball’ once more. He would heal shortly without blemish, one of the gifts of this body. He didn’t know if there were others and he was sure there must be some. Eventually he would figure it all out, after all it seemed as if he would have plenty of time here in this other worldly place.
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~The Old Summoneer~
It amazed him at times how thick headed or inexperienced the young Spirit Matrice that now inhabited Angelica’s body was. This day she was once again failing to grasp some of the most basic controls of her Enhanced Crafted Combat Systems wetware. However he did admit to himself that most of it was due to the communications issue between the two of them. He was not about to tell her that though. Even if she could understand him.
Unfortunately she was also unduly modest, pig headed, aggressive, abrasive, arrogant, and head strong. Just like Angelica had been when she had been pure human genotype. He sighed to himself at that memory from all those cycles ago. Another life, both better and worse. He did need to work on her modesty though. There were very few armors that could keep up with the abuse she could put out when she opened herself up.
After much gesticulating and eventual breakdown of the initial language barrier he had amusedly come to the conclusion that new Matrice belonged to a young man. As sad as he was to lose his old friend and adoptive daughter he was gladdened to have not had his work go completely to waste. Perhaps he would be able to gather the six others and find out who inhabited each physical shell.
The name too…. Pronounced with far to much tongue and lip noises. Only some of the most remote island nations came close to the sounds. If he attempted to say her full name it sounded to him as if he was mumbling ‘Snake Bite’ with a broken jaw while being electrocuted. It also seemed that if he wasn’t careful with the strange throat holler at the early part of her name it would sound young girls scream to her. At least they had discovered how to say her name in the trade language he was slowly teaching her. Though there was no proper translation for it. Closest analogue to it was ‘Enjoyable to discover’ but he supposed that was good enough.
He chuckled at a thought. She should be glad that he had not been malicious enough to teach her that her name and Shithead were the same. But he wouldn’t do that to Angelica’s Shell, especially as he was confident that though her memories were gone that the child inside was so close in resonance as to practically be her.
It had now been half a cycle of days since he had recovered from his blunder. The first two of which had been… interesting. The Old Summoner regretted his hasty actions of dumping his ritual chamber. It had taken him over a full sixteen solar cycles to build and had lasted well over a hundred. The location had been instrumental in several successful campaigns against the encroachment of the various Demon Lords and their corruption of sentient beings on this planet.
With the chamber gone and the way he had designed the purge system to work there was no way to quickly find everything that had been lost. It was all spread to the various corners of the world. Scattered beyond the winds.
Now his first concern was to get Battles Mistress back up to her old standard and track her companions down. On this there seemed to still be some communication issues. As she claimed it was only four others that came through with her even though only two had awoken by the time he recovered. There had been Seven Matrices to account for though. Seven bodies, seven generals, seven peoples to be raised back up in the fight against all that had befouled this world. So he traveled with the woman he had come to know as Enjoyable to Discover or the bastardization of Neeeeekckckkee. She claimed that only her four other friends were there. That she could not figure out that there were supposed to be seven. Of course, half of that was figured out through use of finger waiving, drawing in the earth at their feet, wild waving of arms (mostly on her part) and otherwise. He knew that the systems he had deployed would have garnished all the matrices from the same quantum plane. It was the double-edged sword of the safety feature.
Which meant that there would be two more individuals who woke up residing in shells that were not what they remembered. Yet they would become who the shells were in originality once they had inhabited them long enough. Maybe not in memory but in action and fact.
“Hell stringent linen yellowed flower.”
He sighed again at her butchering of the common tongue. At least she had properly enunciated the proper clicks necessary for the words. If in a really poor accent. However, she really got the words wrong and the structure emphasis changed the entire meaning of what he was pretty sure she was attempting to state. She was standing upside down on her hands. She had been that way for almost a full sixteenth of a day cycle.
The two of them had an interesting conversation on that as well. The primary numeral check here for math and technology had been based on sixteen rather than ten, which is what the old math had used many thousands of cycles ago. They had transitioned as a logical progression as quantum based technology came to the fore. It allowed for much finer calculations and prediction matrix’s that were less prone to data leakages as they progressed. The time units had been adjusted around the same time in that ancient epoch. Each day broken into sixteen parts and each of those into sixteen partial. Then each broken up into sixteen microcycles.
When Battles Mistress, who still refused to use her forms proper name, explained about their time measurement systems the Old Summoner had almost broken out into hysterical laughter.
To think that she was from such a world that still was stuck counting high level problems on units of measurements based on their fingers and toes. It was pure folly.
She was glaring at him as he recollected on the various units of time. Finally he deigned to answer. One had to maintain the proper master and student relationships after all.
“If you must call me an ‘Old Geezer’ then do so Right.” He punctuated his statement with a line of kinetic energy along the molecular rail that his Artifice stretched between his pointed finger and her sensitive pelvic bone. He knew exactly how much that would smart and distract the tall woman.
With a squawking sound much like that of an injured avian hybrid she whipsawed her legs around attempting in vain to recover from the sudden pressure. To say nothing of the sudden sting of the invisible strike. The attack would likely have felt to her as if he had hit her with a small sharp metal tool that had a sizable amount of force behind it.
It was one of the first quantum tricks that almost all Summoners learned. They were often the recipient of frequent kinetic strikes until they learned both the skill and its corresponding defense.
The strawberry haired warrior failed to maintain her balance after several valiant attempts and fell to the ground. The green markings along her back illuminated from within and projected outwards into the first of Angelica Pentel’s twenty three Wings of Battle.
“Bad health old jumbo. Fair no you playful.” She shot back angrily as she jumped up. The dark otherworldly glow of the Combat Construct stretching out from her back showing death to any who would dare to challenge her, Battles Mistress. They pulled her up off the ground briefly as the two large knife sharded planes of planar energy flapped as if wings in real they were.
“And you have ruined another top.” Listening to her was sometimes like nails scraping along a stone drawing tablet. She was improving at least.
She calmed down as she looked downwards at the shirt that was now just one good breath from falling off. It was one of the many she had insisted on making after they had come across a traveling merchant with some bolts of cloth. Her first wings had shredded the back clear as they deployed upon the field.
He laughed at her disgruntled expression.
Angelica grunted something rude under her breath and ripped the tatters off before concentrating on pulling the wings back within her body. She rummaged around in her pack and pulled a replacement out.
“Specify ruin… prevent.. errrruuhhmm…. Prevent…” She snapped her fingers in that odd manner she used to help her remember words. “Prevent Action?”
“You mean, ‘How did the first Angelica prevent her clothes from being destroyed?’”
She nodded and donned the new shirt snugging it into place with that odd expression she used whenever mentally filing away information. Which of course she had to do until she learned more of her bodies enhancement controls.
“The old Angelica would wreath herself in her Power. It covered her at any and all times she would will it.”
They had to repeat that back and forth a few time still she managed to snort derisively at his answer. She went back to her handstand, she was now able to hold it nearly indefinitely. Unless distracted. Which was one of the things he was working on.
“Just so ‘Gelica Wings out All?”
“Not all the time. We do not care about body coverings as much as you seem to, but we still would cover if needed.”
A pause for a while as she processed his answer. Likely to make sure that she understood it. “Then Cloak. Why?”
“My cloak?” He looked down and pulled some of it away from his body, enough for her to see that many of the parts of his bodies Artifice was integrated into his robe and cloak. They were as much an extension of him now as his own limbs.
The more Artifice scaffolding he incorporated into his core meant that he needed more synthetics and 'other' biologics as well. It was one of the sacrifices one made if one wished to become ‘more’ than the standard sapient on the planet. Each type of enhancement, change, or creation had its mark on the body and spirit. Most Summoners end up something like him as all of their coverings were part of the Artifice Scaffolding needed to extend of themselves to effect the Aethers and the Quantum reality left in the wake of the Fall. Where as one like Angelica utilized a far more direct power than he ever could.
Angelica wrinkled her nose at the sight he had presented to her, then she made one of her long throated not quite howls that he had learned meant disgust. In response to her impudent expression, he levied a kinetic strike to her left knee. She was more ready this time and managed to keep her position.
“Why downside up?”
He was able to understand her a lot more now. He was even beginning to learn some basic phrases in her Eeengleeshshsh. Which never translated well it seemed. Such odd tongue noises for a language.
“Because it is enjoyable to me. You look funny like that after all.” He chuckled internally as he spoke. He knew exactly how his statement would affect her and her likely reaction.
She reverted back to her native language and let out a stream of rapid-fire words. Likely cursing him as she dropped to the ground before flip kicking back up towards him. As her foot was closing on his body he gave his Artifice a command and stepped backwards into the inbetween. The inbetween was not actually a time or a place. Rather it existed a few moments out of phase behind actual time. Sort of like existing in the wake of time, like traveling in the draft of a large vessel breaking the barrier of sound.
As such, he was not really seeing his Ward search for him, rather he was watching what she had done a few moments prior. The after images of the movements of her actions. The trick to finding someone hiding in the inbetween was to look Through. An ability that Angelica had, but needed to relearn.
Since is appeared that she learned best when he annoyed her it was a good thing for the Old Man that he did enjoy being a crotchety old geezer at time. Her poorly translated words no less, not his.
Later that evening, a good ways where they had stopped to train, they sat around a fire. He had procured a pot out of his own personal tesseract. It was over the cooking fire with some water inside for a tisane. There were several sticks with a small land born rodent that he always forgot the name of impaled and cooking on them. At least the critters were reasonably tasty.
“Shunt flew.. why?” His companion asked after being silent for a time.
Her face wasn’t quite shadowed by the fire and darkening sky yet. He still got the impression of something hooded around her. Seemed that she was also getting her anger under better control regarding her specific question.
“I thought the Void had taken you.” He could tell from her expression that with her limited vocabulary she still could not quite understand. “Void. The Beyond. Darkness. Demon place. Thought you were possessed by it.”
She nodded as comprehension seemed to finally got through the language barrier. “You thought me,” she paused then rattled of another string of unintelligible words. He let her continue as she spoke to herself. “Bad? Wrong? Circle.. no circle not…” She was almost crosseyed trying to figure out what to say. “Not good. Void… Evile! You think me Evile!”
He nodded, before correcting the pronunciation. He was impressed, he wasn’t sure he had taught her that word yet.
“Sucks that. Wish waited.” She continued on her thought as she poked at the fire with a stick.
Depressing for both of them as that answer was, at least they were making forward progress.
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End Chapter 07
Language Barriers dropping, moving forward beginning. Time to travel along and find out more of what is going on!
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Summoned: An Accidental Adventure –
Chapter 08
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~Malachai~
“If no get hand where need go I slapping you.” Malachai stated to the worker she had been assigned to work with.
Or at least that’s what she hoped she had said to him. Learning a new language was always tough. At least this manner of speech seemed easier to learn than Americanized English had been. She was also having a much easier time of it than Felix was, much to her companions consternation.
As she was thinking of him she took a quick glance his way on the other side of the large room where he was helping another of the Indents. At least that was what she was sure what they were called. Basically a type of forced servant or possibly slave, but she was still learning the language so there may be more to it that she hadn’t figured out as of yet.
They were touching up a wall that had been damaged when things that she could only describe as rampaging cyborg beetle buffalo slug creatures had assaulted the room. One of the locals had explained to her that they were the soulless spawn of Xentul and that the things were usually referred to as Ravagers. The things came in all types of shapes and sizes and tended to absorb almost anything they attacked so as to maintain their monstrous forms. One of the creatures had even taken the upper torso of one of the guards that had fallen during the latest attack. It had been rather gruesome to watch… sort of like a train wreck happening in front of her. She could not stare but she could not look away.
Her current task was to hold up a heavy cable while the other Indent tacked it in place with a sort of circuitry laden green gray goop. This room was one o the force wall generation stations that helped defend the boarder from those creatures. Normally more than enough to keep the horrid beasts away. Though specific pointed attacks that weren’t repulsed by the patrolling army could still sometimes break through. She had a chuckle at the thought of some of the politicians back home and how they would react to this countries problem with ‘illegal aliens’.
As to the hand she had been threatened, it belonged to a youth who was absolutely fascinated by her skin and kept trying to touch it. Which was highly distracting, and not only because she found she was highly sensitive. At least her overseers had allowed her a simple body wrap or the distractions would have been many times worse.
She and Felix had finally learned after a few days learning the local tongue that they were in a forced servitude until they were considered fluent enough to be given a new evaluative trial.
Oh, and they were forbidden from using their native tongues. Her back had healed over without blemish from the whip marks but it had shown her how serious they were over it. After those first few days they had been sent to work details as well.
“So sorry.” The youth finally answered.
He was a simple youth, slim and gangly like many teenagers. Unlike them though he had a pair of horns that grew out of his forehead and recurved back over his head. He was something they called a ‘Created’, if she understood it correctly. Though she was still learning the full word for it.
The youngling was under a similar sentence as she was because he had troubles following instructions and tended to forget what he had been told. Which combined with his tendency to stare at the boarders with a power that seamed to draw in the Ravagers got him in to no small amount of trouble. So whenever there was an attack he had to help with the repairs.
“You are NO touchie me.” She repeated for the umpteenth time in their strange rather guttural clicky language.
As bad as he was with her he was worse with Felix. Which was why she almost always got paired with him. At least he was watching her face again as her arms were getting tired holding the cable.
“Jimbal! Work!”
He startled a bit then focused on the gelatinous mass in the bucket he held. He coaxed a portion to crawl onto an applicator stick which he touched to the cable. The ooze moved of its own volition and connected things to their correct points. With the heavy item now secured Malachai could finally put her arms down.
That was one down and only a dozen or two to go. She sighed, re-adjusted her wrap and moved to the next portion.
Later that evening after work had finished up Malachai finally made it back to the communal housing unit she shared with her fellow Indents. Outside of a harsh rule enforcement it was not really too bad. The food was relatively good and they were treating her and Felix with a moderatum of respect. They were even regularly educating the two of them in their language. Hopefully when she and Felix had their re-hearing they would find out more of what was going on.
After she came out of her thoughts she noticed that Felix was sitting off to the side in the common area. His star filled skin only interrupted by his hair on his head and the similar Indent wrap around his waist. She walked over and sat down next to him. Malachai took his hand in hers and leaned into him. At first he attempted to refuse but gave in after a quick scowl from her. The last couple of days of working on him was paying off as he was more accepting of the pretense than before. Her reasoning was sound, especially as it was tempered by her country of birth.
They didn’t know what the local culture’s views on women were. Even with the fact that there had been women on the court that had sentenced them here. They may have been exceptions to the rule rather than the norm. Since the two of them were being treated in part like slaves there was also a good chance that they may be intended or seen as property. So if they were seen as a ‘Couple’ prior to the next hearing then it may be more likely they would be kept together.
Or at least that was her thought process on this.
So far it seemed to be working, even if Felix was highly uncomfortable with it. She was getting less and less so as the days progressed. The pleasant feelings she was beginning to feel was by no means love by any measure. She was not some sexually repressed American so she knew how to separate the feelings of the body from the feelings of the mind and soul.
“Felix?”
He looked over at her. They were the same height now, even if this position comfortably put her head on his shoulder. He hrmmmmed at her and shifted a little to get more comfortable. As the wraps were really just stretchy tubes of some type of sturdy fabric it meant that she wore a tube dress and Felix was effectively in a skirt.
“Close legs. You spread wide again. How call it? Manspreading?”
Her friend couldn’t really blush with the skin he had but she felt it get hotter under her cheek.
Across the room a woman named Jan had been enjoying the view. Even though she knew she had been caught at it she didn’t look away. Rather she switched her view to Felix’s chest. Of course it wasn’t just about keeping them from being separated. There was a sort of hierarchy and politic among their fellow Intents to consider.
Just as Malachai didn’t have many of the social inhibitions and hang ups of Americans, she also understood how women in lesser developed nationalities often only gained their status from the men they were attached to. For some reason no matter how many times she explained that to Felix he seemed to remain obtuse to that fact. Which made him a lamb in the woods to the potential wolves around them.
“Did you learn anything new?” He whispered in English to her.
Even with the potential risk of the lash she was glad to have a language the two of them could use mercilessly as a way to communicate if needed.
“Yes, Jan want sleep with you.”
Of course she also enjoyed being able to tease him in a way that only they could understand. Felix did his best not to look directly at the woman across the room from them as Malachai poked at him. Particularly as it was Jan that was licking her chops like a wolf anticipating a tasty meal. Figuratively at the moment but she was sure it was also literal at times.
“That’s not helping Mal.”
“Then put arm around me. We take couples bed. Jan think we be fake.” She cuddled in closer to him.
Around the room several others lounged or rested after the days work awaiting their evening meal. After which was either interviews, therapy, or education. Or any combination of the above. Malachai felt Felix shake his head from her position.
“I can’t do that. It just feels wrong Malachai. You know I’m straight, it’d feel… I don’t know…”
She let loose a long string of curses in Romani, her native language. A couple of other Indents looked over in concern as she got up and moved to sit down on Felix’s lap facing him. Malachai leaned in closely to him. Her hands moving in a manner she knew would cause a stirring in his loins. “I no Guy right now. Also, you no be able to poke me with your meat. You think I want sex like this? I make you woman if you try with no my okay.” She gave his earlobe a sharp nip with her teeth. “I serious though. Jan move on you soon. She think you open. If you open then you think no man make move on me?”
The last bit finally managed to get through the dimensionally displaced collage geek. He pulled back as much as he could given their relative positions and put his hands on her shoulders. She allowed herself to be pushed back to arms length. His larger violet eyes almost seemed to float in a starry sky. Set in soft and now slightly African-European features. His silky white hair gave a shocking yet complimentary finish that managed to complete his alien allure. All together being on his lap and looking at him made her heart flutter and body quicken. That was under her control though. Besides, she was sure that as dense as Felix was he had no actual clue how he affected women in his current form.
Though with his most recent encounter with the ‘get a clue bat’ smacked lopside his head brought out a protective side of his that really annoyed Malachai.
“Oh god Malachai… Oh GOD! I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Quietly.” She whisper scolded him in her breathy voice as they were still speaking in English.
It seemed to have an effect on him, but she was not about to let anything go too far. Instead as a way to not get awkward between them she got off his lap and sat back down beside him.
“So…?” He asked hesitantly.
“So… you put arm around. Hand on waist.” She leaned into him once more.
Across the room Jan folded her arms in annoyance now that Felix seemed to be finally making up his mind and followed orders.
“Did you learn anything else?” He said as he nuzzled her obsidian dark hair. With her body still aroused it drove her to near distraction. The techniques she had learned in her prior life as a guy didn’t work on her body much to her dismay. She would need other ways in the future she knew.
“Yes, they think we created to copy fallen Hero’s. To make fear and confusion.”
Felix kept his reaction in check as he processed what his opalescent skinned friend said. “That actually makes sense.”
It was Malachai’s turn to look confused. “How make sense? That make no-sense. We no these people even if look way that.”
Felix laughed quietly. “It makes perfect sense. That room, the old man, us, the way he made everything disappear. These bodies are like Frankenstein’s Monster. We just ended up being the brains instead of someone else.”
They were silent for a spell as the others in the room went about their own business before Malachai spoke. “So we’re…”
“Yep.”
“And these bodies…”
“Yep.”
“Damn… that screw everyone up.” She stated, as much to herself as to him.
They would have continued talking except that one of the guards entered and motioned to all of them. It was dinnertime it seemed.
Once down in the eating area Jan and one of the other Indents sat down on either side of the two dimensionally displaced friends. At least the male was one of the more pleasant ones. Malachai took a moment to remember his name. Erdez if she was correct. She knew this could not be a coincidence no matter what anyone else would claim.
On Felix’s side Jan was leaning in. About as much as Erdez was attempting to do so to her.
“So what ------- understand ------- that ------ - you are ----- really without?” He asked her politely. She was only able to understand every other word or so. Simple statements and the like she could usually get, but the more complex statements she still had troubles with.
She looked downward for a moment as she attempted to figure out what he had said. “You ask about abilities?”
Her grasp of the language was still halting, but she believed she got it right. Erdez nodded, seemingly happy that she understood.
“No remember.”
Internally Malachai felt that he was kind as well as handsome in his own way. If she needed to attach herself to someone besides Felix she could do worse. Even if he could be a bit strife ridden in his approach and manner, he was much more welcome than some of the controlling and overly aggressive locals she had encountered. Unfortunately she was not from here and having been on the other side of the gender divide only just a short while ago. That made thinking of anything like a regular physical relationship to be rather repulsive in any format.
Jan on the other hand was being just as predatorially flirtatious and touchy as possible. Felix was doing a good job of avoiding any commitment to anything. Though Malachai did find herself puling the other womans hands off of her friend a time or three. Or three dozen. Until they knew more of this strange land the two of them had to act as if they were in the middle of a poisonous snake pit.
Tread carefully and avoiding all sudden strikes.
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End Chapter 08
So, that’s Malachai’s and Felix’s catch up. James is Up Next! Debating which order after that, any feedback is as always welcome. The story may be for the most part outlined and much of it written, but nothin is set in digital stone. Well… except Chris. He is kind of stoned… heh… (bad pun, my dad got me on that one the other day.)
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So, my Trollish Artist came up with this nice and grizzled guy for the Old Man. I hope that you guys enjoy him!!!