StarDestroyer.Net BBS

"I really don't think this will be as helpful as you seem to think, Officer." Doctor Argan spoke as he strode down the halls of the Psychiatric Institutions Minimum Security Wing. "But when he saw the news report, he insisted I pass on the note to the appropriate authorities."

"And what a strange little message it was." Officer Ketrian rubbed her head. "'Does the man you think is behind this always leave an eyemask and no trail you can track?' And then just where he was. Who is this guy, anyways?"

"We're having a little bit of trouble with that ourselves." Argan admitted, shaking his head. "I'm sure you saw the arrest record; he was found attempting to apprehend a mugger who had attacked a young woman at a nearby college. He's.. Well, a unique one."

"The record saying he was in full medieval getup with an actual sword suggested that. What's wrong with him?" The policewoman sighed. "Delusions of heroism?"

"Delusional is.. Close enough. He seems to have hallucinated an entire world, history, and religion into being. It's extremely deep and complex; none of us have been able to get him to slip up any more than a normal person would make mistakes from memory." The Argan shrugged as they came to the door. Inside, a single man with a deep tan and several scars was seated, his hands on his knees, his eyes shut. "Ah yes. He is... Fasting, today. Every year, on this day, he refers to.. Ah.." He tapped at the tablet PC he carried. "Ah, here we go. The Divine Death, when the god he followed apparently sacrificed his own life to destroy a more powerful and flatly evil and tyrannical one. I'll spare you the details."

"Great." Ketrian shook her head. "So I came all this way, and he won't see us. Just wonderful. My only thing that resembles a lead, and he's busy with his delusion."

"It's.. probably not a problem to interrupt him. He's expressed a willingness to work with others on his holy days. Just make it clear you're here about the crimes. He's very.. Focused on such matters." The Doctor shook his head. "You'll see." He moved to the door.

"Hold up! This guy's in here against his will, right? He could be dangerous!" Ketrian's hand instinctively went for her gun. She'd seen enough crazy people lunge for freedom without caring who got hurt.. Including themselves.. to know better than this.

"He's docile unless you're a mugger, really." Argan replied, opening the door and walking in, leaving it open for now. "Charl? I apologize for the interruption, but the.. Watch, has sent someone to talk to you about the robberies."

The man slowly opened his eyes, exhaling slowly. He nodded simply, looking up to the two. "Ah." He smiled quietly. "I had worried no one would beleive me. Please, Miss. I am of no ill-will towards you. Take a seat if you wish, stand if you wish. The Doctor assures me I am of no threat to anyone while medicated."

Slowly, cautiously, Ketrian walked into the room and sat across from the strange man. He was.. Well, unique. She'd also never sat across from a man who was clinically insane, expecting a useful tip. "You knew about his calling card." She said, almost accusing.

"No pleasantries." The smile was wan now, but Charl shrugged. "At least there shall be no wasted time. Yes, I knew he would leave his mark of an eyemask and give you no trail by which to follow him. Yes, I am certain these are real memories and not what the Doctor euphemistically refers to as inventions of my mind, a tag he assigns to all my life I can recall. No, I cannot give you any answer you, or the Doctor would ever accept as real."

There was a blink from Ketrian, and Argan cleared his throat. "We asked him when he first requested the note be sent. The explanation was... Far-fetched."

"..I want to hear them anyways." Ketrian shrugged. It couldn't be that bad, could it?

"The mask is a holy symbol. He's mocking you, simply put. It is the emblem of the god he follows, a lord of theivery. The reason you always lose the trail is because he has upon him a method to move himself up to.. Oh.. Six hundred feet without touching the ground. In any direction. Employ that in a point of much foottraffic, and the finest hounds in the world won't be able to track him." Came the explanation from Charl.

"He was right. I don't find that terribly realistic." Ketrian sighed. "How's he supposed to do that? Wave a wand and grow wings?" Doctor Argan was already covering his eyes.

Charl's expression soured. "No, Officer." He said coldly. "His boots contain the enchantment, and they move him instantaniously. But again, you will not and do not find it realistic. Perhaps I should not have wasted your time." He closed his eyes, returning his hands to his knees.

"I am sorry, Officer. He usually doesn't get like this until at the end of an extended session..." Argan quickly tried to apologize.

The policewoman waved the doctor to silence, and looked at the man moving back to prayer and contemplation. "Alright, you think you know how this guy works, how he gets away every time? How do you know this, anyway?"

"I was chasing him when I got stranded here." Came the quiet reply. "A place where everything I know and am is a lie, a delusion, or a game, depending on the person questioning me. You are not the first upholder of law and order to chase him, and you shan't be the last."

Doctor Argan shook his head slowly, and explained. "Charl beleives he's here because, when chasing this person.. I beleive he called him Soren.. He passed through an archway that moved him, as he puts it, 'between worlds'. He was lost and looking for some help in finding his bearings when he came upon the mugging."

Ketrian looked at the man, who had claimed to have been chasing this man, and knew more about him than any of the press. There was no way he could. It was crazy, but, this was a crazy house.. "Alright, Charles." She said. When in Rome... "If you know him, what's his favourite target for theft?"

"It's Charl, not Charles." Came a weary reply. "And anyone who saw the picture-box I saw could tell you he seeks gemstones and fine jewelry. What they would not say is that the only items not delivered straight to the nearest fence are onyx, round and worked, and of a size small enough to fit in the eye socket or mouth of a dead body."

Doctor Argan groaned. "I really am sorry, Officer. He's normally very polite, but..."

"....He's also very correct." Spoke Officer Ketrian, looking at the man in surprise. "Keep going..."

Charl lifted his head, opening his eyes. His voice was tired, defeated perhaps. "He'll have some local theives working for him. Nothing fancy, just more of the same, with the onyx being passed on to him. They're there to throw you off his scent, make you think you nabbed the guy when he left a trail he didn't know he did. If any of the owners interrupted him, though, they'd sport very localized but extremely bad burns, probably fatal."

Argan looked to the officer, stunned and quiet. "Don't tell me he's still right..."

Ketrian nodded numbly. "That's it. Absolutely on target. We've nabbed four of his toadies already, and all cracked on this guy, trying to get a better deal with the DA."

Doctor Argan looked to the man on the other side of the table. "She means.."

"I know." Charl spoke, his voice even colder and more bitter. "The 'Dee Ay' is the local magistrate, who brings the case against the offender. A 'Deal' is an agreement to serve a lesser punishment in exchange for forgoing one's trial. I know these things because it's what I got."

Ketrian blinked. "Wait.. That's right. You tried to attack an officer with your sword.."

"He was brandishing a weapon at me and showing me a small, shiny object. I did not realize he was a guard until a little later. I was offered.. What was it? Rehabilitation here instead of a criminal conviction. I don't feel terribly rehabilitated, but I now understand not to brandish at people with small metal circles."

"...Alright. Can you give me a moment with the Doctor?" Ketrian said, standing up as the man waved them off, lowering his head to return to his Fast.

Outside the room, Doctor Argan locked the door. "I am really sorry he couldn't be more help."

"Maybe he can be." Ketrian had a thoughtful look. "Who is he? Really? He's got some crazy scars, and there must be some kind of trail. Dental records, DNA, fingerprints..."

"Nothing." Argan admitted. "Until that mugging he stopped, it's like he didn't exist. He didn't even have his vaccinations, or the most rudimentary medical history.... And yet, he's never been sick, not since the day he came in here. Not even the sniffles."

"..He's a strange one." Officer Ketrian sighed. "But he's looking more and more like our only chance. Can he be released into police custody temporarily? Is he dangerous off his meds?"

"He's not dangerous, period, unless he thinks you're breaking a law. Which he knows disturbingly well. He made it a point, within his first month, to read the legal code. All of it. Everything from city ordnances to the federal government. He said he wouldn't make the same mistake twice." Argan sighed. "He's.. Completely safe and helpful, until he starts to think you're mocking him or treating him like a child. Then he is bitter. But never violent, save that first night, when he saw a woman in danger, and then didn't know the men threatening him were police."

"So he can be released. I'd prefer he not have his weapons.. But I think we could use him. He's lucid, yes?"

"As close as he ever is. He's completely aware, but completely consumed by the delusion."

"Then we better hope the delusion gives him enough reality to find this guy.." Ketrian started for the door again.

I'm intrigued.

A very interesting concept, to say the least. I look forward to more.

Excellent; I suppose we can expect more of it? I want more lines like: "The Doctor assures me I am of no threat to anyone while medicated". That was rib-tickling.

"I don't know what animal perished to provide me with these," Remarked Charl with a certain edge in his voice, walking along beside Officer Ketrian from the hospital and towards the police cruiser. The jeans, apparently, were not to his liking. "But it's sacrifice was certainly not worth it."

"Most people find them very relaxing." Ketrian shook her head. She had taken one look at the getup he had been arrested in and promptly pulled some strings to get clothes that wouldn't make him stand out like a beacon. "Though.. I admit, those are probably a little tight."

"Little is an understatement." Groused the man. "I can only hope this string of discomfort, annoyance, incarceration, and humiliation results in the capture of that bastard Soren. It seems rather alot to even consider going through to emerge empty handed, if I do, indeed, ever emerge."

Ketrian fell silent for a moment. She was, she admitted, shocked at the dedication this man apparently had. Sure, he was clearly a crazy; he spoke of things like magic and other worlds like she talked about having a cup of coffee. But if he could help even a little.. Well, it wouldn't hurt.

The car was regarded critically by Charl, who was sizing it up as one would a strange new beast. Ketrian sighed. "It's just a car. It won't bite." She said, unlocking the rear door and gesturing for him to get in. "And.. I'm sorry. For interrupting your Fasting and holy day."

"It would be a far greater insult to my patron if I sat feeling sorry for myself in a cell rather than assist in the pursuit of a wrongdoer." Charl said simply, getting into the rear seat and settling into it almost suspiciously. Ketrian reminded herself; the only times he'd been in a car were relating to his arrest, hearings, and transport to this place. Then she shook her head. That's crazy. She was starting to buy his story.

"Anyway." She said, quickly trying to focus on the here and now. "We're going to head to the most recent crime scene. Maybe your experience with this guy can help?"

*****

The jewelry store was still recovering, and quite a bit was taken. Charl walked through the store, quiet, thoughtful. The owner just gave Ketrian a look, and the woman shrugged.

For a long moment, Charl stood still over one spot, murmuring and moving his hands, as if in prayer. A moment later, and he repeated it. Then, he swore. It wasn't a familiar curseword, but the tone said everything, as did his face as he turned to face Ketrian. "I can do nothing more here. Show me which way your trail led you until it stopped."

Ketrian, mystified but shrugging it off as just an odd bit of religious ceremony, led the way out into the street. They moved along the sidewalk, and paused at a four-way intersection. "Here." She said simply. "The dog's lost the trail here. And before you say anything, we checked for far more than a few hundred feet in all directions, thinking the cars just covered the scent."

"On the ground?" Charl asked simply, surveying the buildings all around him. They towered an impressive distance, but...

"Of course on the ground, he can't fly..." Ketrian snapped, and instantly felt sorry for it.

"No, he can't. But as I mentioned, he can disappear and reappear. And that," He gestured, up to a balcony, with a fire escape leading straight up. "Looks like it's within a few hundred feet. He'd even be able to see it." Charl studied it. "Should be possible to get up there, but the trail will be gone by now."

"Can't hurt to look, though." Ketrian nodded.

*****

"Nice view. Not sure how it helps us, but it's a great view." Ketrian sighed, atop the building. It had been a long going; Charl had gotten to the roof of the first building, thought for a few minutes, then picked another one, based on the same requirement: A line of sight and only a few hundred meters. And so, they were now on top of a corporate office building, some forty stories up. The wind was noticable.

"I don't know how they do things here." Charl said, kneeling by an air vent blasting him with the heated air removed by the building's central air. "But wouldn't this be considered valuable?" He asked, pointing to a shred of cloth caught on the vent's sharp edge.

"How... Nevermind that, don't touch it." Ketrian ran over, pulling on gloves. "Evidence.. I don't know how far it'll get us, but.. It'll get us somewhere. How'd you know?"

"Call it.." Charl hesitated a moment. "A knack." He said simply. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to remain here a while. I understand this device on my leg will be keeping track of where I go. It won't electrocute me if we seperate apart, will it?"

"What? No. It's just a monitor. It'd tell me where you were, nothing more." Ketrian blinked, and started down into the building and back towards the street. Let the man have some time alone.

Atop the building, a ritual began, Charl's forehead sweating.

I got Monk vibes from this last bit for some reason; a good thing, I assure you.

And I don't like jeans either, really.

Very nice so far. I look forward to more, though I certainly hope that all is not as simple and neatly-wrapped as it appears at present.

What a great mix of fish out of water comedy and adventure.

A little while later, Charl was in the station, sitting across from Officer Ketrian as she read off bits from the report. He let most of the words, unfamiliar, flow by him, seeking the basics.

"...And that brings it to fifty onyx he's stolen that we know about, at least within the size where you expect he'd keep them. Now, could you please tell me what he's going to use them for?" She finished, looking at the man who sat there, infuriatingly calm in the face of a one-man crimwave.

"You'd not beleive it." Charl sighed, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. "But I suppose I should tell you what crime to start looking for."

Ketrian was thankful for the help and insight, but so far, the frustration was far exceeding the benefits. "Just tell me." She grunted. "I don't have time for games."

"Graverobbing. He will be gathering quite alot of corpses. The state of their decay won't matter much, so he'll go to the best place to be overlooked by doing this." Charl said slowly and patiently.

"Okay. This has been funny, but let's get real here for a second. You got lucky, with that scrap of fabric. But now you're telling me to beleive he's grabbing together corpses? And this is in relation to jewel heists?"

"It is. It is very, very important, but you won't beleive me even this far." Charl sighed, closing his eyes and murmuring to himself before speaking up. "Find whoever would have jurisdiction or records of such, and ask them if there's been some bodies missing." He was given a look like thrown daggers. "Just.. Give me one chance to prove I'm not as crazy as you think."

*******

It was two hours later, as police officer and madman picked over the remains of two orders of take-out from a nearby asian resturant. Charl had been hesitant at first, but it was food with variety, and thus he dug in. Grease-covered variety, but variety. Now, both stuffed, sat as the call came in.

Ketrian spoke for some time, in brief, clipped sentences. As she did so, she was watching Charl. Her eyebrows gradually rose. She began writing down numbers, but Charl waited for the call to end.

"....He's got seventy, maybe eighty bodies, according to the running tally and assuming he's the only one snatching them up." Ketrian gave him a long, slow stare. "What the hell does this guy want with nearly a hundred corpses? How is it connected to the gemstones?"

Charl sighed softly. "Trust me. It makes everything so far seem quite normal."

"Look. I've been patient. I've listened to your mad theories. I've even found you're mostly right. Just.. Lay it on the line." Ketrian rubbed her face slowly. She felt like she was coming unhinged. This guy was either the real deal, or was a masterful actor with alot of knowledge of the crimes already. "Look. Give me something I can tell my boss, and I'll make sure you don't have to go back to the psych ward for the night."

A shake of his head. "Your boss will be even less likely to-..." A pause, and a blink. Then Charl stared. "My lady. Are you inferring that I stay the night with you?!" The shock was palpatable.

"What?! No!" Ketrian found her cheeks burning. "Absolutely not. I was going to find you a place at a hotel or something. Don't be silly. That'd be insane."

"Oh." Charl leaned back, and then sighed. Back to where he's just a crazy man, where he can hear the distant sounds of those he can't help, or see what the local inn is like? "Fine. Your boss won't like it." He cleared his throat.

"He's planning to form an army."

*******

Charl relaxed in the hotel room. It wasn't much, he was told, but to him, it was paradise. The bed was soft, the water was hot and cold on demand, and there was a picture box he didn't need to share. The control of it had baffled him for a bit, but he had gotten it to an interesting-looking peice on a group of knights. He wasn't sure what they had to do with this 'Christ' figure, or why the watcher was presumed not to know what 'Grail' actually meant. Still, it was interesting enough to keep his attention.

Across town, Ketrian stepped into her bedroom after being yelled at.. Again.. by her Lieutenant. He had been patient when it came to the idea of letting this guy out of the crazy bin to help, but the idea that corpses and gems added up to an army had pushed his buttons. She hadn't told Charl that. She wasn't sure why. Perhaps she was getting sucked into his dreamworld.

A hand dragged against a few of the books near her bed. More than a few had knights in shining armour, riding out to save the day, usually a day in which a peasant girl or princess was in jeapardy, and then...

She shook her head. She was a professional. She'd seen wierder than this, really. She just needed perspective. She was just tired. Tomorrow, it would all make more sense.

For those of us who play D&D, this is a special treat. What I feel odd about though, is the fact that this guy they are chasing is both a thief and necromancer of some kind.
So interesting. Paladin+modern world is a great treat. Keep it coming, and I will send you cookies.

Awww... she believes in Knights in Shining Armor!

Pity Charl's is dented. Great job, m'love... you actually beat me to Posting!

"He's building an army."

I feel very sorry for Officer Ketrian.

Hehe. Of course the name Ketrian puts me in mind of someone who carries a great quantity of black-steel weaponry...

Can't imagine where I got that impression from. *grins at Nit*

White Haven wrote:Hehe. Of course the name Ketrian puts me in mind of someone who carries a great quantity of black-steel weaponry...

Can't imagine where I got that impression from. *grins at Nit*

Oh good grief. And I'm willing to bet he didn't even make the connection until you just mentioned it.

Ketrel.

LadyTevar wrote:

White Haven wrote:Hehe. Of course the name Ketrian puts me in mind of someone who carries a great quantity of black-steel weaponry...

Can't imagine where I got that impression from. *grins at Nit*

Oh good grief. And I'm willing to bet he didn't even make the connection until you just mentioned it.

Ketrel.

Nope, I stole it from a game I used to play.

Indeed you did. And by 'black-steel weaponry' I was referring to rather...modern hardware, Tev.

Alright, no one kill me. This is not the last chapter. You folks know better than to think I'd ever go with 'And it was all just a dream'. I've delayed it mostly due to SG:A's 'The Real World' being out just in time for me to be about to post it.


Charl emerged from the hotel room, feeling like a new man. The pants still felt too tight, the shirt still was no match for a proper tunic or perhaps suit of ceremonial plate, but it was enough. He found the police cruiser when it said it would arrive for him, and soon found himself back in the police station.

"There you are." Ketrian sighed, shaking her head. "Sorry, I've been running around like a chicken with it's head cut off. We're planning a raid. Someone apparently left an anonymous tip that they'd seen alot of bodybags being moved into one warehouse."

Charl blinked. That was.. Surprisingly lucky. "That's why I always wring the neck... Anyway. A raid. I'm afraid I may not be much use, especially without my things.." The man patted his sides. Ketrian smiled and shook her head.

"We have specially trained guys for that. We'll follow once the building is secure. Anyway, I don't think a sword and plate are much use against anything these guys might throw at you, no offense."

******

It was an hour later. Warrant-equipped SWAT had smashed into the warehouse, and had secured it. More than a dozen men and women had been nabbed. But it was no good news for Charl or Ketrian, as the bodies were opened up.

"White powder?" Charl lifted the see-through bag with a curious look. "What in the world is this for?" Others were pulled from the other corpses, and the SWAT and CSI officers exchanged looks.

"....It means we've made the biggest drug bust around these parts in years.." Ketrian said, her voice far-off as she tried to mentally tally the load they'd managed to intercept.

"Oh. Well. That's good, I think." Charl walked around the bodies, looking them over quietly. The eyes and tongue were in place. There was no place for the onyx gems to be placed. "Um.. It's not quite what I expected, really.."

******

It was a dizzying pace for Charl. He got up expecting to make another leisurely search for clues on Soren's plan. Then he had been dragged along on a raid, which had turned up... White powder. From what he was gathering in the debriefing, it was white powder that was illegal, and had a ridiculous street price.

But it was wrong. It wasn't what Soren was up to. He knew it. He did, didn't he? Everyone was talking like Soren's jewel thefts were just.. Paying for this strange little powder.. He vaguely smiled as he felt slaps on his shoulder and back, hearty thanks from the officers. They were celebrating.

"Hey. You alright?" Ketrian asked the clearly bewildered Charl, reaching out to steady him. "This must all be alot to take in. I don't know how you knew all you knew.. But I'm amazed. You did great." She was smiling, but could tell what had gotten him in this state. "Hey.. Don't worry. We found some of the onyx as well at the scene. They were just being used to pay for the stuff. This Soren guy wasn't even involved."

Charl shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts of doubt. "Yea. You're probably right." He murmured. "I guess.. I guess I better be getting back to the Institution, huh?" He smiled a bit, but it was weak, not really there.

That caused a silence to sort of ripple out. Everyone knew, at least, that the vital information that led them this way had come from a man who was supposed to be crazy. A few had even heard what they were supposed to be finding. And yet.. It had turned out mundanely.

Which meant Charl was delusional, Ketrian realized. She had nearly wandered into his fantasyland, so eager to embrace the ideas he spoke of. Still, she found herself trying to come up with ways to salvage it. To salvage the idea that he wasn't just delusional, not just making it up. "I'll... Give you a ride. I owe you alot."

*****

Doctor Argan smiled at Charl, as the two sat in the room. "I'm sorry it led to you coming back here, Charl. I know you'd prefer many places to these four walls."

A slow shrug came from the man. "I have no real way to make a living out there. And what I thought I was right about.."

"The officer told me." Argan leaned forward, patting Charl on the shoulder. "That's alright. It's important that we challenge ourselves, challenge our preconceptions. You're making a big step forward."

"Yes. Forward." Charl said absently. It was a little much for one day.

"I'm sure you're exhausted. That's alright. I have good news, though. I finally managed to get ahold of your family, it seems. They've been worried about you. Your older brother will be coming by tomorrow.. You're not dangerous to anyone, so you'll be able to go home. Rest on that."

*****

Even with a night's sleep, Charl felt it was all going too fast. The world seemed almost blurred as he met the brother he was supposed to have, not recignizing him at all. The man spoke of things Charl had no memory of. He called him Charles. But the Doctor kept saying it was safe. It was okay.

The first sign things were going wrong was when the car he was placed in came to an upscale house, and Charles was led in. Two heavyset men were there, holding sticks that crackled. Behind them, he could swear he saw Soren.

"You've cost me alot of money."

The next thing that came was the horrible blows from those sticks, jolting his body, electrocuting him...

Soren is one hell of a planner, it seems.

... Yes, get him away from his buddy cops, and then he's all yours. Ouch, not a good thing at all.

Pain surged through Charl. He was conscious, though, and feverently wishing he wasn't. With consciousness came awareness of his condition; the electrical surges still tingling, causing discomfort without numbing enough to disguise that, yes, some bones had broken under that beating. He was alive, though, and not sure why. Soren was making a big risk in leaving him alive, if only he could move enough to...

A sudden blast of pain shot up his spine, causing him to convulse. This made his situation even worse. As the ability to think came back to him, he resolved not to struggle further. Whatever that was on his back was going to shock the hell out of him if he moved. He tried to let the pain pass, attempting to work out how he was going to get out of this. There didn't seem to be much hope. The Doctor thought he'd gone with his family. Ketrian would find out that story if she even thought to check on him.

No allies. From the feel of it two... No, that was definately a third.. Three broken ribs, and a leg that definately wasn't going to hold his weight. No weapons. A thing on his back to shock him if he tries to move. Not a good hand to get dealt. Still, his heart was still beating. It was throbbing in his head, in fact. It demanded he try.

******

The report sat on Ketrian's desk. She was staring at the officer who had written it up, and been the eyewitness.

"Let's go through this again." She said simply. "You hear a disturbance. You go to see what it is, just in time to see the second attacker start wailing on the guy. By the time you get there, he should be dead.. And instead he's a pile of snow and ice."

The officer looked sheepish. "I only know what I saw. My partner saw the same thing. So did, uh, the prisoners." Ketrian knew this. It was in the report. It had been deemed necessary to include.

"Ice and snow doesn't make a prisoner. It makes a snowman. What we had was a prisoner, now we have ice. We need to check the others. Check to see if.. Oh, I don't know. See if they bleed blood. Get a request done to do blood type tests on all of them." She said, rubbing her head.

As the poor man walked away, Ketrian stared down at the report. It was impossible. You can't mock up some ice to make a decoy....

A tiny part of her asked the question she dreaded, and did so in a sneaky way. Assume you could mock up ice and snow. Just assume what was seen was real. That means that anyone with access to a chainsaw and ice blocks could have whipped up all the folks they busted in.. Oh, a night. But why do it? To escape being made on a drug shipment this large? ...Unless.

"Officer Ketrian here. I need a chemical analysis of the powder we brought in on the bust. Yes, I know. Yes, I know. Look, do it. And I need the results as soon as you get them."

Unless it was just white powder. Unless it was just a bunch of ice mocked up.

Unless Charl had been right, all along.

*******

Charl was passing in and out of consciousness, the blood loss and constant electrocutions taking their toll. He could half-see a broken, battered man, covered in scars and his limbs obviously having been broken once or twice before from how he moved. Beside him, a taller one. No eyes, and a stump where one arm ended.

Tyr. Ilmater. Earlier, he had wondered if they were ever real. Maybe they weren't. Maybe he was just sinking deeper into madness from the blows to the skull. Yet, the two smiled. The broken man with a smile of understanding and sympathy, and the other that of a stern father who is nontheless watching over you.

If I told you this was real, would you beleive it? Or dismiss it as another delusion? This voice came from the side. Charl tried to move his head, but hesitated, knowing what would happen. It's alright. I know you can't turn much. You're far from home, and everything seems unreal. The world around you, the world you came from. All you know for sure, right now, is that Soren is playing dirty.

Charl risked a nod, and was rewarded by a lack of crippling electrocution.

And there's someone you need to protect. You know she could take any of this world's dangers, but Soren is something else. And thus, even as you lie here, broken and bleeding, you think of her. A pause, a feeling of amusement. No romantic feelings, just concern. Understandable. She spent most of the time being condescending. I will do what I can for you.

From the searing pain of electricity and broken bones, to the sudden chill of being thrust into an icy river. The feeling enveloped him, numbing away pain. In a surge of action, he twisted and wrenched the device off his back. There was a faint tingle, as if the crippling jolts were nothing but a bit of static.

******

Another report joined the first on Ketrian's desk. The analysis of the powder had been a rush job, but no amount of rushing could hide the fact it had been flour.

Flour. It was a setup. All a setup. And the convenient tip? Perhaps part of it. Perhaps she was intended to walk into the setup, take the ice-puppets and their flour, declare case closed and discount everything Charl said..

After all, it would have taken magic to turn lumps of sculpted ice into people. Well, things that looked like people until they bled chilled water. And now the setup had gone into place...

Charl. He had gone back to the hospital, hadn't he? But if this Soren character was able to pull off a setup like this...

She ran out of the stationhouse, much to the surprise of her coworkers and annoyance of her superiors, who were getting the reports she had.

That Soren's pretty harsh, but I have a feeling that he's going to get his ass kicked.

Ketrian shoved her way through the doors of the office marked 'Dr. Tom R. Argan'. She was more than a little surprised to find the doctor looking up from his watch, as if expecting her. But surprise didn't override her mouth. "Where's Charl? He's not in his room. Where did he go?"

"A gentleman claiming to be his brother took him. He's not, and now he's in danger." Argan was.. Surprisingly straightforward. As he watched the anger well up in Ketrian's face, he moved to a table, tapping a box. "These are Charl's things. He'll need them."

Ketrian, about to launch into a verbal beating of the man for letting Charl go into danger, blinked. "What, his sword and stuff? That can't possibly-.."

"They'll be more help than you think." Argan replied quietly, opening the box. "And this is for you, from me. An.. Apology, for the deceptions I've had to perform." It was a bulletproof vest, seemingly standard. Ketrian took it, her mind puzzling over what the man meant, and the first thing she noticed was how light it seemed. "I suggest you go quickly. Soren isn't with him now, but there are plenty working for him." He placed a peice of paper into Ketrian's unresisting hand. On it was the address.

"When.. When.. When I'm done, you are so being pulled in for questioning!" Ketrian snapped, yanking on the vest.. It seemed a perfect fit, and still extraordinarily light, and grabbed the box.

******

Charl smashed through the door boot first, the lock simply tearing a chunk from the doorframe. He was immediately confronted with two men armed with the crackling, electrocuting rods, and fell back several paces. There was no banter, no threats, just deadly efficiency from the two. They moved apart, trying to flank their prey.

Charl relied on his mobility, backing away with his hands up. He ducked down, pretending to skid on the floor. When the first attacker lunged, he twisted to the side and rammed the thing he had ducked to grab into the man's chest.

The device previously attached to Charl's back grasped the thug's chest, and delivered a stunning blast of pain and agony through his body. The man dropped, and his weapon clattered to the ground. Charl lunged for it, only to get his left arm smashed with the other man's rod. The limb went numb, and the unarmed escapee fell back again, trying to find a way to counter the onslaught.

Backed into a corner, Charl waited for his opponent to lift his hand for a strike, and then shoved against the wall with one foot, springing up and over his opponent, tumbling through the air to avoid the swing as he came down.. Harder than intended.. Next to the other assailant, still convulsing as he failed to learn the lesson of remaining still while the device gripped you.

Charl snagged the rod, and leapt to his feet just to see his opponent charge him. The man was bigger.. If Charl didn't know better, he'd say the ugly, hairy man was a half-orc.. But Charl was faster, having practiced how to throw off a charging enemy often. He ducked, twisted, and sidestepped the charge, grabbing the man's empty hand and tossing him a good five or six feet to the side.

With the two down, Charl just ran out the door. His victory was short lived; there was no doubting this individual was a half-orc. How Soren had gotten them here, and without detection..

The line of thought was destroyed as the beastial man-thing lunged, moving faster than Charl and keeping his weight on his back legs. This one was definately more talented. And if that wasn't a clue, thought Charl as he parried desperately, his rod becoming a virtual wall of swings to defend himself, the fact he's got a mace might also let me in on it.

Charl adjusted his own stance, pushing himself almost beyond his ability to balance, and swung. It reached further than it should have, and clearly his opponent was off guard for such a move. The electrified rod came down hard on the half-orc's hand, electrocuting his arm and disarming him in one swing.

As he ran to pick up the new weapon, a gunshot rang out, and clipped Charl in the arm. The Desert Eagle which fired was given a cursory glance by Soren, who grinned darkly. "I had heard there was some ruckus from the prisoner." He said, as Charl clutched his arm. The wound shouldn't hurt this much, but he could barely move. "An impressive weapon, no? A few enchantments, and I'm all but unstoppable with it."

"Yea.. I'm noticing that.." Charl lay there, still defiant. One hand reached for the mace.

"Oh dear. Not going to be trying your precious Bloodstorm style on me, are you?" Soren smirked. "Go on. Try it. I'm right here..." It screamed trap. It undoutably was a trap. But Charl gripped the mace none the less, concentrating through the pain to get off one good throw..

Both men's heads snapped around as there was a yell of 'Police!' and the front door smashed in. Ketrian, anger practically radiating off of her, held her gun steady as she spotted Soren. She didn't know who he was, but she did know that he was standing over a fallen Charl. "Drop the weapon!"

"Ah. You." Soren turned, lowering the gun. The Desert Eagle dropped with a clatter, and his hands lifted. "You have me.."

Charl could see the sutble movements of Soren's hands. He reacted first, even as the glow began to build. As Ketrian stared in horrified terror, the mace was already careening through the air. The spell ceased as the heavy end of the medieval weapon smashed into Soren's arm. He folded almost, clutching the shattered arm. He snarled, and spat a single word.

Then he was gone.

******

Dr. Tom Argan stepped into the officer of his immediate superior, Arthur Overten. He bowed with excessive formality. "It's done. They're on their own path now, with all the help you let me give them."

Arthur turned his chair around and looked at the other psychologist. His face was without age - He could have been twenty or a hundred and twenty - but his hair was pure white on his head and on his immaculately kept beard. No one would notice the man in a street, his face symmetrical and neither ugly nor handsome. "I remember your objection." He said evenly. "I will remember them for a long time. But the rules are as they always were. And this will be sorted out."

"But deceiving him so.."

"You will find that he will be the stronger for this." Arthur smiled. "We should probably get going, in any case. One way or another, this will be over very soon."

Nice story so far. Is there any connection with Neverwinter Nights?

Comosicus wrote:Nice story so far. Is there any connection with Neverwinter Nights?

Yes, the main character either is, or thinks he is, from the same world. But I use the material NWN is based on, not the game.

SirNitram wrote:

Comosicus wrote:Nice story so far. Is there any connection with Neverwinter Nights?

Yes, the main character either is, or thinks he is, from the same world. But I use the material NWN is based on, not the game.

My only knowledge on NWN is based on the first episode of the game that I've played. I couldn't go beyound that (was too much hack-n-slash for my taste) and I didn't read anything else about that universe. However I'm still glad that I got this one right

And the fic is great indeed. Can't wait for more to come.

The setting for NWN is the Forgotten Realms, also known as Faerun.

Home of Elminster the ArchMage, Drizzt Do'Urden, Mirt the Moneylender, and many other heroic figures.