Forgotten Freedom:40
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V : Ketler.
Ketler : Mmmm... *snork* Jaela... plug suit... zzzzzzzzzzz...
V : Ketler!
Ketler : *Incomprehensible murmur*
V : KETLER, GET UP, YOU LAZY ****!
V kicks Ketler out of bed
Ketler : WHAT?!
V : We need to talk.
Ketler : You don't even exist! You're just a figment of my adolescent imagination and an overactive sex-drive!
V : Oh ho! Is that what Kanatash wants you to believe? That I'm not real? MUAHAHAHAHA! I have quite the surprise for him... *giggle*.
Norbaz stands in the kitchen, cooking with the door locked. After beating the chili back into its pot with a spoon, he tries to steady his thoughts aloud.
Norbaz: Okay... so the letter wasn't there under the door when I went back... think... maybe a redshirt found it and thought it would make good blackmail on me. No... then the news would have spread among them like wildfire among them and I'd know about it. Someone too it, either from or into the door... either one doesn't bode well... damn... damn.
As he muses, he fails to notice Satnak in the room.
Satnak: You should watch your angsting and pay more attention to the stove.
Norbaz: AH! Don't do that... wait, Satnak? Didn't I give you one of the spoons of endless Chili?
Satnak: No... actually that's why I'm here.
Norbaz: Could have sworn I gave it to you... sorry about that, here.
Norbaz takes one of two blazng red spoons from his belt and hands it to the half-elf.
Satnak: Thanks... you know, from what I've heard, you probably forgot because of all this drama going on in your mind.
Norbaz: Yeah... that's sounding about right.
Satnak: Well, don't think too hard. I may now have an endless supply of chili, but that doesn't mean I don't want to try any of the new blends you're working on.
Norbaz: Heh, thanks, I'll keep that in mind.
Satnak leaves Norbaz to his thoughts and latest batch of chili, and another pair of eyes watches him from the shadows. A pair of cat eyes, followed by a mischevious grin with thoughts of blackmailing the chef consuming its thoughts... oh yes, Marish would have fun with this situation.
Giant Demonic Chocobo: WAAAARRRKKKKK!!!!
Terra: All right, all right.
Tifa: What'd he say?
Terra: Well, since they're not completely natural, I'm having a little trouble understanding the dialect, but I think he said something about keeping Marish away from him.
Marish sits in stalker mode on the other side of the deck, drooling. Just before she pounces, Andrea grabs her by the collar.
Andrea: NO! Bad kitty! No Chocobo for you!
Marish: (weep)
Giant Demonic Chocobo: WAAAARRRRKKKK!!!!
A look of shock and slight disgust crosses Terra's face.
Tifa: Now what'd he say?
Terra: Something about 'rubber tubing' and 'certain parts of her mother'. (shaking her head) You don't wanna know.
(In Sa'vor's citadel dimension, from the training grounds echo the sounds of spells and weapons training, the hiss of arrows flying through the air and the loud barkings of Corporals to whip new batch soldiers into shape and train them in the physical and damanding tasks ahead of them. Feal-thas stands on the training grounds perfecting his art at wielding spell and blade together. Sa'vor and Tara stand on the balconies above watching the troops battle against summoned or illusionary foes and watch the wraith like scout divisions move silently through the trees)
Tara: This is an impresive army you've got here, how many of them are there?
Sa'vor : Almost ten thousand, and I've only had a month. The fully trained ones have been assigned the jobs of trainers to speed the process up. Already they're quite capable of inflicting heavy casualties on an army four times their size.
Tara: Why build this legion at all? Couldn't Kithle just destroy all the countries' armies with his magical might?
Sa'vor: He could, but he is only one soul. These billions to be will be the enforcers, they will crush human armies with their skill with the aid of magic and weapon. Strength, magical ability, intelligence and tactics all rolled into a base creature that can survive the most hazardous conditions.
Tara: What happens to the ones whom die in training?
Sa'vor: If it was a first mistake then they're raised, but if the Half-dragon in question was a liability; not fit for his role he was designed for, we try and find a new role for him. I can't waste precious soldiers.
Tara: Amazing though. How disciplined they are, the armies I've seen have always been a horde or a column that's held together only by a thread. How did you do it?
Sa'vor: That would be telling .
Tara: (Grabs his arm and thrusts it behind his back. Sa'vor winces and grits his teeth. its almost ten minutes of pure agony before he gives in.)
Sa'vor: They know that strength comes through disipline, from spawning or birth they are trained to fight and are trained with tactics. Though most of this information is buried within their minds and activates through training. Also their commanders and leaders are always capable of communicating through a hive-mind like system. They keep each other updated constantly on troop movements and their numbers.
Tara: But what against mounted foes, you don't have any mounted troops of your own.
Sa'vor: I shall soon, you'll see. It's a suprise.
Tara: Oooohhhh, I love suprises!
Norbaz brings a vat of chili into the mess hall, where there are some redshirts, Kithle, a bunch of the lesser-used…… and two beings he does not know yet.
One an elf with way too much emphasis on silver, the other your average crow. However, he quickly figures that these have to be the two new people.
Norbaz: Hey, new guys! Up for your chili initiation?
The redshirts snigger all around.
Norbaz: But first let's hear your names and backstories. After all, we might not get the chance afterwards.
Silver stands.
Silver: I suppose it all starts…
She leaps up on the table and raises her hand dramatically. The crow jumps onto the outstretched appendage and strikes a swashbuckling pose.
From somewhere far away there floats a beat. In penetrates into the hearts of everyone sitting in the mess hall. Redshirts start tapping their toes or humming in a way they've never been able to hum before. They somehow manage to cobble sophisticated instruments from random junk. The music grows slowly, an operatic tune.
Silver: We are not as you are/
Crow: We are from a place so near, yet so-o faaaaaaaaaaar.
Kithle doesn't understand what compels him to sing next. Despite the fact that he is a half-flayer he's picked up some perform skills from his eating habits.
Kithle: I cannot see this inside your heads/ all it says is basic things/ that would not fit the mindless dead/ you just have my mind running round in rings.
(then, normally): Why was I singing? I'm immune to magic.
Norbaz (singing in a nice soprano): This is not magic, my comrade/ it is much worse/ it is like Otto's and Tasha's/ but within the grip of the mighty verse./ You cannot begin to fight/ what can control the very light/ [The lights change like on a stage.] so sit back and let it guide your voice/ because, in fiction, you really have no choice,/ it is the greatest source of woooooooondeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrr…/ that can tear our world asuuuuuuunnnnnndeeerrrrrr…/ [The walls open up as more crew members pour in.] the Muuuuuuusssssicaaaaaaaaaaal…/ NUUUUUUUMBEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!
Kithle: (in thought) On one hand I can sing now, on the other now I have to kill every redshirt in this room and swear those 3 to silence. The new guys probably gave me the statue so I could probably just ask nicely. Norbaz... Oh I'll squeal on Marish. (telepathy) Kithle to Norbaz I tell you who got the letter in exchange you never speak of this to anyone and help me slaughter these redshirts. Nod one for accept.
Norbaz: *nods*
Kithle: (telepathy) Marish, Marish has the letter.
Norbaz turns towards the redshirts now putting down their improvided musical instruments or clearing out thier throats.
Norbaz: Okay everyone, that was a good performance.
The cooky pulls a convieniently nearby lever. A torrent of Chili spills out overhead and floods the areas of the room filled with redshirts... who summarily break out into song about being dissolved by chili and the involved great irony of the situation. Norbaz exits the mess giving a smile and nod to Kilthe and trusting the mess of chili left will be willingly cleaned by a single half elf with a taste for the stuff... but wonders briefly if she'll care that the chili is full of dead redshirts... oh well, they'll all be liquefied by the time she arrives on the scene.
Norbaz: Ah, now to business... dear sweet sovereigns I hope I don't suddenly break into song while settling this situation... although, heh heh... I know it's breaking on of the rules, but I might need a bargaining chip. Hmm... what to do what to do...
Silver and Crow exit the mess before Norbaz dissolves the redshirts. They are followed closely by Kithle.
Kithle: It was a little hard to follow in the singing, but so you in the silver, you used to be Cheese, and you, the crow, you were a thing messing with Sutekh. But you're saying that you're entities who serve a power outside…
Silver: The simplest way to explain—
Crow: —is that we exist only as needed to mess around with your universe.
Silver: But we aren't very powerful. Rather, we tap into greater powers than us.
Kithle: Like that musical number.
Silver: I call them Narrative Elements. Just like it seems unavoidable that Sa'vor gets drawn into yet another weird series of events involving super-freaky creatures, or that Terra reveals that she has yet more tricks up her sleeve—
Kithle: —or that Jarlot is going to do something completely insane and inscrutable.
Crow: Exactly. These powers are easy to tap into, but they don't get you anything worthwhile.
Kithle: Then why do you use them.
Silver grins.
Silver: For fun.
Kithle: (Whose, I wonder.)
Hours later....
Norbaz waits, well hidden, in the ceiling of a corridor below deck using the skills of an assassin and rogue of great talent, while a squeaky bird toy with a bell on its tail feathers sits innocently in the middle of the floor. Eventually, Marish walks by and looks down at the toy, not approaching. She looks around the corridor, and having not spotted anyone, inspects the floor around the toy. Carefully stepping around it she stands onto the other side while speaking.
Marish: Ah, some people never learn. Like I'd fall for a trap that obvious.
Norbaz pulls a string, causing two iron gates to shoot up from the floor sealing off a cube of area. Norbaz drops from the ceiling and makes his presence known.
Norbaz: I think we have something to discuss.
Terra enters the computer lab and sees Volrath typing furiously.
Terra: What's up?
Volrath: The Brothers Chaps finally came out with Thy Dungeonman 3!
Terra: About time. Are you finally able to get Ye Flask?
Volrath: Yeah! It's right in front of me! I'm going in...
(on screen) As ye reach for Ye FLASK, a flash of light blinds thee. Ye find thyself in yon grassy field. A signpost shows exits at NORTH, SOUTH, EAST, and WEST.
Volrath: eek OMG! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!
Doog sits moping in his room when he hears a knock on his door.
Doog: What?
The door opens and Terra steps in. Doog is immediately on his feet.
Doog: Hey there, hot stuff. You come by to get a-
Terra: If you finish that sentence, I can and will put more knots into the 'Trouser Titan' than should be physically possible with a single thought.
Doog: :eek:
Terra: That's better. Now, as Kanatash told you, only the telepaths aboard know about your little cover scheme. Which means, unfortunately for you, that Michael is totally oblivious.
Doog: ...what's your point?
Terra: Michael is gunning for Lisa, that much is obvious. I want him out of the picture, at least for now. That's where you come in.
Doog: Why should I help you?
Terra: Because you can't keep living a lie, it's getting rather ridiculous. As well as the fact that I and the other females aboard are tired of you using us as a cover for your insecurities.
Doog: So you're going to help me with this in order to get with Lisa?
Terra: In a manner of speaking. I'll give you a few ideas about how to break it to him, but how it ends up I couldn't care less. You're there to run interference.
Doog: I think this is where I tell you that you're a bastard.
Terra: That'd be Kithle's influence. :D
The musical number ends with Feal-thas and all the other half-dragons doing a big Riverdance routine.
Sa'vor: You sure that will come in handy?
Igor: Yeth, thir. There ith nothing better for developing agility than danthe. Bethideth, Mithtreth Lolth thwearth on itth pthychological effectth.
Sa'vor: It certainly scared me.
Meanwhile, in Ketler's lab the artificer is using his autoforge to put some final touches on a delicate helmet. Brain stands beside him.
Brain: Is it finished yet?
Ketler takes off his safety goggles.
Ketler: Here you go. One helmet of ninja/pirate transformation for one date with the new Jaela.
Brain raises the helmet above his head.
Brain: My plan is almost complete. Soon Ninja Jaela shall become…… PIRATE JAELA!
Phollie: I still think this is a stupid plan.
Brain bonks him over the head.
Phollie: HA, HA, HA, ZORCH!
Nalfien, Volrath, Blinky, and Kelter are seated around a table, covered in pewter figurine, oddly shaped dice, books, and sheets of paper.
Nalfien: Something has been bugging me. How is Kithle half-human/half-mind flayer?
Volrath: Well you see, when a mommmy human and a daddy mindflayer love each other very much...
Volrath pulls out an image projector, and turns on a horrific tentacle hentai.
Kelter: Give me that!
Kelter grabs the image projector and turns it off. Kelter then tosses Volrath and Nalfein each a copy of Lords of Madness.
Kelter: Look in there, it explains everything.
Volrath (flipping throught the book): They changed everything. I mean, beholders don't even get to have sex, anymore.
They all look up, at Blinky. His face is frozen in a look of horror, his jaw residing on the floor. Kelter waves his hand infront of Blinky, and gets no response.
Kelter: I think, you broke him.
Norbaz stands opposite of Marish in the caged off cube of the corridor. The tension between them rising as the half giant tries to figure out exactly how to go about this situation.
Norbaz: I believe you have something that belongs to me.
The cat girl looks up at the half giant and cheerfully replies to Norbaz while her hands behind her back slowly unrolling a scroll.
Marish: Really? Are you sure, I find a lot of things, but most recently I found something that may have been yours, but was left under someone else's door. It was the door of the person whose name was on its envelope, soo... I guess it's not yours anymore.
She grins happily, having finished preparing her spell and completely putting the half-giant off of his guard.
Norbaz: Listen, I just want that letter back so I can destroy it. Damn it, I shouldn't have left it in the first place.
Marish: Awwww, I think it's sweet. That a cold hearted assassin is shy about his feelings.
Norbaz: I am not cold hearted, I'm just professional.
Marish: Call it what you like, buuuut I think I'll hold onto the letter for now and give it to Andrea at her leisure.
Norbaz: Like hell!
The half-giant removes a sap from his person and ducks left in a feint preparing to catch Marish unaware. However his movements are too slow and the shifter bard unleashes her scroll stored spell, Charm Monster. The magic hits the cooky like a ton of bricks. He drops the sap and looks at Marish and adresses her as one would an old friend.
Norbaz: Hello Marish, I imangine you'd want out of this cage, let me help you.
The cooky forces open the portculus like obstructions surrounding them.
Marish: Now then, I believe we have some business to discuss. I have something you want, and know something you don't want me to know. I think I know how to keep silent, but, and take this down (Norbaz takes out a pad and pen and writes with a smile) I don't know if I should. On second thought, I'll give you a list of things to shop for over the course of the next few days until my spell wears off.
Marish smiles victoriously as she walks down the hallway leaving Norbaz standing there alone, but still in a good mood...
Terra: (telepathically) Hey, Kithle. Get Kanatash, and maybe Satnak, and meet me at Sa'vor's castle. I have something you all may enjoy.
Kithle: (same) Sounds intriguing.
Terra, Kithle, Kanatash, Sa'vor, Tara, and Satnak are gathered in the courtyard of Sa'vor's castle, the sound of the half-dragons training in the background
Sa'vor: So, what's this big thing?
Terra: First things first. (looking at Tara) Can she be trusted?
Sa'vor: I believe so. Regardless, she'll find out anyway...
Tara: Damn right.
Terra: (shruggs) As you will. Remember, what I'm about to show you is still in the development stage, but it's close enough to give you an adequate demonstration.
Satnak: Just tell us already. Stop beating around the bush.
Terra: In a moment, I need to preface this with a warning. I cannot stress enough that this is an absolute, last-ditch option in combat. Only to be used if it's a choice between this or death.
Kanatash: (excitedly) You're killing me, here! Just show us!
Terra pulls out a bottle filled with a silvery liquid. It seems to glow, but no light is shone on surrounding surfaces.
Terra: This here is something I've been working on since Kithle taunted S/S and got us blown out of the sky. I'd love to call it a stroke of genius, but it's more of a happy accident.
Kithle: I was wondering why you spent so much time in my lab...
Terra: The combination would at first seem to be like drinking liquid death, but the reaction between them has produced something unique. It's not without it's side effects, but I'll get to those later. First, a demonstration.
Tara: Why can't you just tell us?
Terra: Because you wouldn't believe me. Sa'vor, I'd like to enlist your help in this one.
Sa'vor: You don't expect me to drink that, do you?
Terra: No, I just want a sparring partner. (pulls out a piece of chalk) After I drink the potion, I'm going to try and mark you with this. All I want you to do is stop me.
Sa'vor: If it were anyone else, I'd think you were nuts, but, okay.
Terra takes a swig and replaces the bottle in her robe. Almost immediately, the others can sense a great deal of chaos in her aura, then a sudden, immense surge of power from her.
Kithle: What in...?
Terra: Let's begin.
She seems to disappear from view, but Sa'vor can hear her movements. He sees her several times out of the corner of his eye, but she disappears again before he can react.
Sa'vor: (to himself) Such speed. Is it even possible? I can barely keep up with her...
He feels light pressure on his armor, looking down to see a white smudge. Terra reappears before him.
Sa'vor: Impossible! I didn't even see you!
Terra: Now you see why I'm showing you this. In a few more minutes you'll see why I call it a last-ditch move. For now, I want you to hit me with your magic.
Sa'vor: You're serious? (Terra nods) Okay, then...
Reluctantly, Sa'vor launches a volley at her. To his amazement, she completely neutralizes it with her own energies. A second, more powerful blast has a similar fate, only this time, she returns fire. Raising his defenses, Sa'vor counters it with no small amount of difficulty. Looking back, Terra is no longer there.
Terra: (from behind) Hey there.
Sa'vor wheels around, completely shocked.
Sa'vor: Okay, okay. I'm quite impressed. What exactly does it do?
Terra: It seems to raise the natural parameters of the drinker far beyond what they would usually be capable of. For example, you would have flattened me under normal conditions, but because of this, I would have won in real combat.
Kithle: It boosts everything?
Terra: Only to a point. From what I can tell, it seems to work best with those things the drinker is already proficient in. For me, I get the most boost to magical abilities and agility, much less to physical power.
Kanatash: So it has different effects on different people.
Terra: Correct. Once I refine it a bit more, it should be ready. Right now it's far too potent and doesn't last as long as I'd like it too.
Satnak: What's the catch? You seem fine.
Terra: It hasn't run its course yet. It'll become obvious.
Sa'vor: If it does something like this to you, what could happen if I drank it?
Terra: For a few minutes, you would be not unlike a god...
Just as suddenly as it came, Terra's power plunged. Falling to her knees, she speaks weakly.
Terra: Ugh. Now you see the downside. All that power takes an enormous toll on your body. Had I engaged in full combat, I would have probably passed out the instant it wore off.
Tara: Containing such power in a body unaccustomed to it. It seems the obvious result.
Terra: Indeed. So you see, it is not to be used lightly. Even after I finish with it, it could easily leave you completely vulnerable when it runs its course.
Kithle: Why make such a thing?
Terra: I like to cover all contingencies, seen and unforseen, as best I can. I couldn't very well let an opportunity like this slide. I don't know if we'll ever have to use it, but it's better to have it just in case.
Kanatash: Seems like a good enough reason.
Terra: I'll get back on it in a bit. I just... need... to-
She passes out and crumples to the floor. Kithle checks her vitals, then has Satnak take her back to her room.
Kithle: Terra Have you considered decreasing the potency to increase the duration.
Terra: That might work then we could have different potencies for different situations.'
Kithle: Exactly, also consider some of the really hideously tough crew, Muradin, Steve, or Satnak, the effect might boost their ability to handle the surge longer.
Terra: OOOOOOOOoooooooooooOOOOOOOooooooo **** I don't even want to think what a full strength dose would do to Satnak.
Kithle: Well my projections show she would wipe out every creature with a divine rank within a thousand miles. That's assuming she doesn't move. A punch would be so devastating as to affect gravity, She would literally be able to punch out a moon. With her right arm. The equations on the left are Apocalyptic.
Terra: I'd hate to think what her glare would do *shiver*, no one ever quite recovers from it as is.
Kithle: I coudn't complete the equations there.
Terra: The number's too big for the ubergenius Kithle.
Kithle: Well that and the forces Invoked by such an event are inherently unpredictable. Most likely it would turn your constituent sub-atomic particles inside out.
Terra: and that would what besides killing someone?
Kithle: I have no Idea.
Getting away from the madness of the crew below, Jarlot takes a break on deck. There he sees Silver setting up a sun chair. The oddest thing about it is that it's about 10 ft long and 5ft wide. She's got a chest filled with ice and stoppered containers to one side, another unopened chest on the other. The liquid inside the containers looks a redshirt after he's been drugged by Terra for two straight weeks, tortured by Kantash for five days by listening to him sing, read one of Devon's short poems… by Kantash… singing it, eviscerated mercifully by Sa'vor, introduced to enlightenment by John, put in the chilli by Norbaz, glared at by Satnak for being in her chili, then completely restored by Aerith who could have no idea what that entire process does to sanity at the sub-atomic level. And Jarlot couldn't even see the bottles that well.
Then Silver starts loosening her clothes. Jarlot, being male, is torn between the chivalrous action of at least looking away, and the hormonal action of voyeurism. That lasts two seconds. She doesn't really take anything off, just loosens them some, letting her jacket hang open. Since she's facing away from him he can't see much. She reaches for a thick chain around her neck. She slowly pulls apart the clasp. There is a sound like chainmail rings anfastening all at once. Silver grunts twice.
Then the universe rips apart for a split second.
Giant feathered snake heads erupt from every point on Silver's body, shredding her clothes. They are definitely couatl heads, but having flame instead of scales. They appear to be in a ring, all facing forwards. Several wings grow from her back, shaped like a butterfly's but with feathers. The whole mess flops down on the sun chair, clearly still not big enough for it.
A snake head (having replaced Silver's arm) drags a container out of the ice chest. Jarlot can see now that it contains a very old elf. One head rips off the top and a third head swallows the elf.
A flock of crows then flies in, seemingly out of nowhere. A few are swallowing a last bit of dead flesh. (Jarlot thought he knew something about what dead peole looked like during the Last War. Once he met Andrea he learned he was wrong.) They arrange themselves along several of the snakes' necks. The snake heads start hacking and hissing like a cat trying to dislodge a hairball. The crows throw up a raucous cawing, then as several lumps start up the snakes' necks the crows stab their beaks in. Finally the whole spectacle results in the regurgitation of at least three objects into the center of the ring of snake heads.
A snake head opens the other chest, and crows fly back and forth carrying various items of clothing made out of bird feathers. Finally four elf maidens step off the snake ring.
Silver's Voice: Would you like to join me, captain? It's such a lovely day for regenerating people with the flesh of the dead.
Jarlot doesn't hesitate. He turns back to the hatch he came out of. Then, as if he has an über's psychic sense, he hears eveyrthing that is being said on the FF at that moment:
Volrath : Well you see, when a mommmy human and a daddy mindflayer love each other very much...
Norbaz: Is there anything else I can get you, Marish, dear friend?
Redshirt: Ahh! The chili is attacking me!
Brain: Come, Phollie, we must ponder a way to get this helmet on Ninja Jaela.
Vrin: So, Lucky… er… what's it like being a woman?
Tifa: Oh JarLOT?
Jarlot: Yeah, sure.
Silver's Voice (to the elves): Be dears and bring the captain up a chair.
Elves: Yes, goddess.
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