New Beginning 23: One for the Record Books

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

"Oh, could you? That would be splendid, thank you." Knight says eagerly, before turning to his companion and noticing his apprehension. "Mr. Vaultboy?"

"Yeah." Says Vault considerately. "Sure Dash, sign us up."

"Mr. Vaultboy, not to be rude, but doesn't that seem like a waste of time? We've found what we're looking for." Knight says.

"No, you haven't. You have a lead." Vault replies. "Not all leads produce results. If this one doesn't pan out then that means you'll have to look somewhere else, and that takes more than the kindness of strangers. That takes resources. You didn't happen to bring any Aeon fun bux when you set out on this journey, did you?"

Knight suddenly looked as though Vault had shot an arrow right through the gaping hole in his plan. "Well..."

"Exactly. This is a competition, and competitions usually have a prize. If not money, than something that can be bartered. We'll need that if we don't, by some weird coincidence, find what you're searching for in the first place we look." Vault suddenly puts his arm around Knights shoulder and spins him away from Dash, pulling him close and whispering conspiratorially into his ear. "Were also guaranteed to win, or have you forgotten my powers?"

Knight makes an o face, before turning back to Dash. "Mr. Dash, would it be possible to schedule that meeting after this hunt? Mr. Vaultboy has convinced me to enter."

[Philote]

"Splendid" Dash says.

"This shindig doesn't have many rules but I'll fill you in on the ones you need to be aware of. First, don't damage the walls of the cave, that can lead to disqualification if you act bad enough. Second, don't get in any other competitors way. The polite response is to move to another tunnel if you find another competitor that you're not working with but this rule isn't necessarily enforced. Third, you can hunt the other creatures you find in the cave, but only the one known as the Compass Fox will add to your score. Lastly, you have till sunset to return with anything you've poached or you lose out on any potential points."

"Should anything life threatening or rule breaking happen, Phi and I are on scene. If you win, you get to keep the full price of anything you manage to collect, any other place and you have to donate a large portion of your winnings to the town. This gig goes on for four days with prizes on each, how many would you each like to sign up for?"

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

"That really depends on how long we're going to be staying here." Vault says. "Just todays, for now. We can wait until after Knight's met this person you know to see if we need to do more."

"That seems sensible." Knight agrees.

[Philote]

"That sounds reasonable" Dash says.

"Let me lead you over to the starting area then I'll go tell everyone you've joined up."

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Dash leads the group near where they had initially ported in on Aeon. A group of Correnian males and females stand on the ledge of a topaz cliff with a drop that would kill a normal man.

"Grab some rope if you need it and have fun guys" Dash says as he drops them off.

The two of you then have a prep time of about fifty minutes before the announcer begins to start counting off the hunt's start.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

Vault stares down the drop apprehensively, rope in hand, looking for something to tie it to. "You think we need lights down there? It is, you know, a cave."

"I can see in the dark." Knight replies.

"Just as well, I can make light. Though I'd rather not use Moonfire if I can help it." Vault replies, shaking the gauntlet on his arm. "Come on, you, make light or something."

While he tries to finagle what the gauntlet was actually doing for him, Knight had approached one of the other contestants. "Excuse me." he asked. "But do you know if there are going to be very many dead things down there? Skeletons, bones, corpses, things like that. I can only imagine things described as monsters are quite dangerous."

[Philote]

"If you count all the things that are going to end up dead because of the hunting, then yes" a Correnian woman replies.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

"Thank you very much." Knight says, bowing. He runs back to Vault, who has successfully found a place to secure their rope. "I need you to make me corpses when we get down there. Not many. One or two would suffice."

Vault gives him a quizzical looks. "Yeah, that was, you know, the plan."

"Also, what are you burial customs?"

"My what!?"

"In case the worst happens, you understand. I'd like to be able to lay you to rest properly."

"You really know how to inspire confidence in a man, do you know that?"

(Yeah, I'm all ready.)

[Philote]

The two of you are left relatively alone on the topaz ledge while you wait. After enough time passes, an announcer comes on and gives the countdown.

On "One!" your group and the Correnians are off. Many repel down as the two of you do, but others just take a leap and throw themselves below.

Unless you use something to speed up your decent, your group arrives along with the mid range group of competitors. Others around you cut off their extra rope and take off in small groups through one tunnel or crack.

The topaz caves are strangely visible, as if lit up by some light source seeping through the stones.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Ripples in the air, even those far off across the room, turned by the Penultimate's whim and filtered past him like a river of soft, gentle winds. The Penultimate closed his eyes, and listened to every sound, every word, every squeak, hum, laugh, cough, sneeze, whisper. The crowd turned, a bit astonished to find their words all snatched from them, but he ignored them; where were these Changeling Praetors?

Every bit of sound that had happened in the last ten minutes played through his head and around his body like a psychic symphony of dissonance.

"Oh, have you seen Lily? She looks lovely this evening!"

"Fantastic!"

"I can't believe he's still around! Isn't 90 old for a human?"

"How are you? I haven't seen you in ages?"

"Bowties are cool!"

"Have any of you seen the loo?"

"And remember, if ever you see them, you musn't blink. Blink, and you're dead."

"Why yes, Master Praetor--" There. That was one. And strung up alongside it, three, no, four more voices. Female, female, female, male, male. Their flowing blood smelled, tasted human, but their faces, their perfumes and colognes, the money in their wallets, rang in the Penultimate's mind as something Fay. Their voices rang of a music unknown to humans. Indeed, the Changeling Praetors.

With that, all sound returned to its rightful station. Conversation was slow, but it started up again. A subtle ripple appeared in the air around the Penultimate and the Praetors' young apprentices, and they were whisked forward through folded space-time in an instant. The boys blinked again, and they stood now before their Changeling masters. Their leader was a tall, pale-skinned beauty, whose hair, ruffled dress and possibly aura were each a different soft and lovely shade of pink.

Seeming more pleased than surprised to see the one who now stood before them, she spoke in a voice the Penultimate could have easily mistaken for Glenda the Good Witch.

"Ah, yes, Master Penultimate, there you are. I am Lady Fl'Orissette Betrozian. These are my comrades, Lady Retress Thaive, Lady Wolfwyn Silvan-Wilde, Lord Beizor Haxxin and Lord Garian Kinnzedor." she began, dusting off her dress and coiffing her hair with a little smile, "I see you have met my boys. Gus, Raff, Lindo, you're all dismissed."

The Penultimate watches as they scatter off into the crowd like frightened rats, then turns back to the Praetor, "Nice to meet you, Lady Betrozian. Your boys called out, hoping to find me...something in reference to you and some books that needed signing?"

He produced the books, signed, and Betrozian's smile grew wider at the sight.

"Why, thank you, Lord Penultimate." Lady Silvan-Wilde remarked, "That's rather kind of you."

The Penultimate replied, "Any time. If I might ask, though...what are these books about? I know better than to sign some devil's contract unaware, but a quick glimpse by touch says that this book is about me. Me and my allies."

Lady Thaive and Lord Kinnzedor exchanged mischievous glances, before Thaive replied, "Why...why, yes. Hadn't you heard? Your adventures, alongside the Marvelous Miscreant, the Zaleramancer, the Jester, the Dryad, the Gentleman Vaultboy and all the others...they are the stuff of legend. I only found the three in stock, but In all, there have been about...what, Wolfwyn, 22 books?"

"Indeed, 22. And a 23rd promised to be out some time soon."

Something about what she said tickled him at first, but then the Penultimate considered her words a bit deeper. The stuff of legend? Twenty-two books? What did that mean?

Were they being observed unaware?

The Penultimate frowns at the thought. Perhaps there's nothing to worry about, but then how likely was that? He had to admit, he didn't like the odds. And so, it was decided. He looked up from thought, meeting eyes with Lady Betrozian.

"Lady Betrozian...may I see those books?"

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

Knight hops down, and begins tabbing his foot impatiently as Vault slowly, carefully, placing one hand under the other, climbs down the rope. Finally touching down after most of the other contestants had scattered amongst the topaz tunnels, he looks around a gives a whistle at the beauty of it. "Pretty place, isn't it?" He asks, leisurely strolling toward one of the unoccupied tunnels.

"I'd hoped you'd be a bit more urgent. This was, after all, your idea." Knight says, trotting along beside him anxiously.

"Relax. I told you already, I win any game I play. It just happens." He says confidently.

"This isn't a game, this is a competition." Knight says.

"Same thing."
"I beg to differ. A game is a competition, but not all competitions are games."
"Name one."
"Arm wrestling."
"Arm wrestling is a game."
"Arm wrestling is a competition."

Their words echo down the tunnel as they walk, debating whether something can be a competition but not a game, and whether a hunt counts as such.  Finally, realizing that they were getting nowhere, Vault conceded.

"Fine." He said. "This might just be a competition. On those grounds I agree to try, just to be on the safe side." He puts his hands up to his head, rubbing his temples lightly. "Bring me a Compass Fox, Siren's Signal!" A sound, only audible to the Compass Fox, bounced through the cave system placing the first such creature it found under its subtle spell.

[Philote]

A black fox with two tails and a pink face runs around the corner after a couple minutes, but it is not alone. A nimble Correnian woman is hot on its trail.

"Stand back, this ones mine!" she yells, not breaking her stride as she runs after the creature.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

"Says you." Vaultboy calls as the fox rushes at him. "If it's yours, why's it coming to me?" He takes a deep breath.

As the fox moves to spring past him, he whispers out. "Amber Breath,"  and breaths out a smoky cloud of amber right into its path.

[Zaleramancer]

???????

There is a library where the bookshelves are locked and covered. It is a place of blue and purple. A place of shadows illuminated by shifting witch-fire.  A lonely, solemn place where only one soul may dwell.

A place of secrets kept from the world.Of unknowable things in forgotten languages. Of things forgotten by chance and those forgotten by force. A place of magic most vile, and magic most sacred- of magic forbidden to all, lest it burn the whole of the world to ash.

There is a woman who guards this place. Custodian, Sentry, Defender and Warden.  She would defend these texts with her life- both for their sake and for that of the world. She is the secret-keeper of the seven. The Lady of Many Faces.

She feels your inquisitive minds now, nibbling away at the ignorance and mystery that surrounds her. Her eyes meet yours across space and time. They flare with blue fire as her words touch your soul.

Go Away  Lest  You  Be  Burned. 

And you forget

[Philote]

The amber forms and quickly the torso of the fox is trapped.

"What the.....?" the Correnian woman exclaims as she comes to a halt. "You cheat, what did you just do?"

("How are you going to transport the fox to collect your points now?" a random subconscious thought asks )

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

"Stopped it in it's tracks." Vault said. "What were you doing, trying to run it down? It's a fox." He taps the amber with his foot.  "It's also alive, so when you break this stuff you'll still have to kill it. So hurry up." He kicks the amber encased fox over to her and turns to Knight. "Then leave. You're complicating my strategy."

"Mr. Vaultboy, if that's the way you intend to capture the foxes how are we going to transport the all out?" Knight asks.

Vaultboy stops with his hands halfway to his head. "That's...uh...."

"I have an idea, actually. But we'll need a big strong animal." Knight says.

"Right, one big strong animal coming up. Siren's Signal."

The soundless sound echoed out again, looking to lure the biggest, strongest animal in the caves.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

The book had barely passed from Betrozian's hand to the Penultimate's, when his mind sparked with flashes from a hideous storyscape. A rush of overwhelming peril, of exhilarating thrill and excitement, of novel wonders and unthinkable terrors passed from within the confines of the book, through the Penultimate's mind at an alarming rate.

Or, it all would have been alarming...if had hadn't seen it all happen before. He had, though. He had seen all of it. Every second from start to end, and more. Nearly twenty-two books' worth more, if the Praetors weren't mistaken.

The Penultimate had just reviewed the first events of the New Beginning.

Though, things seemed far more foot-loose and fancy-free the first time around. Now that he was able to perceive things as an outsider looking in, he and the others...they had done such monstrous things! Of course, it was known that a lot of fighting was done, but he was 100-percent positive they had teleported animals and citizens to safety before the start of his world-devastating play-combat. The world, in the beginning, had been cleared of innocent mundane civilians, hadn't it?

It would appear not. His recollections were thus:

------------------------------

The creation of Celadon, of Aeon, of Cykosha had been of little consequence, as the lot of them were fortunate in their choices of spatial planet positioning, though the creation of New Atlantis had been catastrophic. And the abridging of Earth to the dimension of Kyst was a monstrous lapse in judgment. And the realization of every fictional superhuman, supervillain, superhero and antihero in existence laid the world to yet worse chaos.

The world was in such strange spatial and temporal flux just to bear it all. The voices of the fearful and the mad and the angry and the tormented cried out in unyielding rage and frenzy, but each reality bender's face, in the Penultimate's visions...sick, wild with unearthly glee. A blast of devastating gravitational force here, a great apocalyptic monster roaming about there. Buildings were laid to rubble, disappeared, rearranged, reshaped, came to life, trapped people within. Plants and animals warped unruly terrors, thirsting for the tender flesh of living things.

People warped and twisted and turned, grew and shrank, turned upside down and inside out, fell victim to unforgiving trances of immense pain. They were taken, seized, engulfed head to toe in countless body-mutilating warp-spasms. Everyday men became ravening animals, vicious ghouls, unruly goblins, terrible zombies, ferocious werewolves, fearsome vampires, creatures torn between truth and illusion, fantasy and nightmare.

Souls were thrust with hateful force from within their fleshly vessels, only to be snatched back in by the reversal of time, and otherwise the defiance of nature. Spirits became batteries for the most obscene of sport; life-force became just one of many different currencies, different fuels to keep the game going. And that it would.

Over the course of about three months.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

The Penultimate called the next book to hand, and touched it to analyze:

------------------------------

Doubtless, three months might seem to some like a small penance to pay, for the whims of those unfit to use the powers with which they were bestowed. In the minds of mortal beings, though, who actually had to endure the torment, and the fear--the excruciating uncertainty of even the laws of nature--every moment of those three months felt like a small, agonizing eternity.

The sum total of the mortals' accumulated eternities?
------------------------------

The Penultimate picked up the third book to analyze, then summoned to hand the fourth book, the fifth, the sixth:

------------------------------
The sum total of the mortals' long, dark night, to date, was more than two years.

Indeed, two years of each hour feeling like forever.

Still, somewhere along the way, the reality benders' battle lust had been assuaged to some small degree. By effect of some tiny inkling of hope that had still managed to survive all this time, the reality benders had perceived the light of reason through the darkness of their thirst for combat. New foes began to emerge, so they would have to band together and stop them.

Perhaps it made the young reality benders feel good to know they were defending something beyond their own individual estates for a change. Or perhaps they had grown tired of fighting one another--each of whom was both an immovable object and an unstoppable force--and so elected that picking on folks their own size had grown dull, for want of bigger.

And so, more civilized games were born. Games requiring stratagems and subtle schemes and skill, rather than pure brute force of will. Games which would lead to the wildest corners of even their imaginations. Games which would fashion the lot of them--despite their vast list of crimes against life, nature and any stretch of logic--into heroes.
------------------------------

He picked up NB 21, NB 22 and at last New Beginning 23: One for the Record Books , before stopping himself short. The point lay ahead in that book where he would read about himself, reading about himself. There was no way to be certain, but he was not about to risk creating a paradox with such an action. As the Doctor had once told him, once he read it, it was fixed in the workings of the space-time continuum to come true.

From here, the Penultimate knew, it was best to proceed with caution. Not even a second thought could be given to the potential of that book's final chapters, for fear of hitting on truth, and sealing into fate a mortal disaster from which reality could not recover.

That was indeed the depth of danger he knew himself to be in now. Somebody intended that the Penultimate or some other reality bender might come across that book, and set the bomb for his own demise. And someone that clever--that deadly--was, doubtless, still watching now, and either waiting for the trap to be set, or waiting for the moment when they might be confronted.

Closing his eyes and concentrating on that final tidbit of analysis, the Penultimate was quick to put the thought out of his mind, an intangible thing taken up on psychic winds and delivered, faster than light, to the furthest reaches of oblivion. Still, the urgency of his knowledge had not left him. He handed the Praetors' three books back to them, and even was content to let them keep the others for their assistance, but then he assured them, he had to be off.

"Oh, dear, you've gone and offended him!" exclaimed Lady Silvan-Wilde.

"Now you've done it, Betrozian!" Haxxin chimed in, menacing her, "Great going!"

"Oh, my, I certainly hope not!" Lady Betrozian turned to the Penultimate, a bit dismayed, "If I might be so bold to ask, is the party over, Master Penultimate?"

When the Penultimate turned to answer the Changeling Prateors, though, his expression was coy, even mischievous, "No worries, folks, I promise. I'm not offended, and the party isn't over. In fact, I have a feeling that things are just getting warmed up."

[Philote]

The Correnian woman grumbles but takes the amber encasing the fox and leaves. The two of you are then left alone until the effects of the Siren Signal comes to fruition.

A black shadow swims under Vault's feet, moving through Topaz as if it was water. It loops around the cave tunnel that the three competitors and then splashes forcibly out of the wall and into the one opposite. A trail of lava follows the black fish, revealed to be the reason these caves have any light at all, but quickly cools into a new Topaz formation. The Lava Fish continues to circle around Vault for as long as he has the Siren Signal activated, occasionally jumping out of the walls and splashing back into another.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

"Does that work?" Vault asks.

Knight has to think on it for a moment, before nodding confidently. "Yes, yes, I could give that leg. Thank you."

He rolls up the sleeve on his cloak, and Vault can't help but wonder what the odd little bundle of sticks clasped around it is for. Then the fish jumps again, and Knight throws that hand out. Threads leap from the front of the sticks, black as pitch and made out of some sort of energy. They hit the fish, but don't entangle it. Instead they seem to pass into the creature and hook onto something within, growing taught. Knight grabs his arm with his free hand and tries to yank the fish off course.

[Philote]

The fish violently thrashes through the Topaz it swims through, but Knight is able to direct it if he wishes. The topaz tunnel that the two of you are in deforms as if melting as the lava trail spirals through it and eventually re-solidifies back into topaz. Despite all this, the only time that heat is felt is during the brief moments when the Lava Fish actually jumps out into the air.