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 Posted: Wed Jun 13, 2007 10:20 am
The Changeling stood breathing slowly, the steam billowing out from it's nose. The stalks of bamboo encircling it whispered quietly in the breeze, not gently but conspiratorially. The Changeling knew that it's enemies waited among the bamboo, it could feel them. It closed it's amber eyes to focus, to slow down it's hammering heart. If it was to make it to the Aeem Sea alive, it would need to achieve perfect clarity.
But before it could center itself, it heard the telltale click of swords sliding free of their scabbards. With a pair of clicks of it's own, the safeties on it's pistols slid off and the slides slammed back as gunshots broke the silence of the forest. First one body then another fell to the ground, swords clattering away into the underbrush. The changeling smiled imperceptibly, thinking to itself the game is afoot.
Long ago, The Changeling had been a powerful General in a land far away known to it's inhabitants as Ceedee, a small kingdom on the shores of the Aeem Sea. It wed a beautiful witch in it's male form and served his Queen as a knight in waiting, as the Queen refused to knight any of her chivalrous attendants until she found a swordsmith worthy of both her discerning eye and their valor.
The first time The Changeling encountered The Gator, it was attending to it's Queen in it's female form as they sailed the Aeem Sea in search of sport and conquest. The Gator swept onto the boat in it's diminished form. The Changeling held fast to it's sword, but The Gator suffered naught for it's impudence. Rather the Queen entertained The Gator as a peer, inspiring a twinge of jealousy in The Changeling, who quietly coveted The Queen despite it's lovely bride whom The Queen had married to The Changeling herself.
Seeing The Changeling for what it was, The Gator regarded it cooly and planted a tiny but lasting seed of corruption in the mind of The Changeling. As the seed took root, The Changeling became restless and became acutely aware of what it came to see as the debauchery and corruption of Ceedee, and with time began to resent The Queen as his distaste for The King and his courtesans mounted.
Soon enough, The Changeling renounced it's title and fled the kingdom of Ceedee for the wildlands of Edipee.
The Changeling arched it's body backwards to avoid the sting of the next attacker's blade, it's leather top creaking as it stretched to cover it's ample azure bosom. The attacker stumbled forwards past The Changeling and briefly felt the cold touch of the barrel of it's gun as it sprang back upright, before the hapless foe's blood, bone, and brain matter splattered out of it's head in front of it's very eyes.
But too soon the next of the brigands was on top of The Changeling, his fetid breath curling up it's nose in disgust and shock. Reacting on impulse alone, The Changeling jammed both it's guns between itself and it's attacker, firing wildly before the attacker's blade could come crashing down. The Changeling winced as the twin reports sent it's ears ringing and the mess of it's attacker's face splashing across it's own. The Changeling yelped and fell backwards, a wayward tooth slicing across it's cheek before it hit the ground hard, it's guns spinning off out of reach.
The wildlands of Edipee were well known to The Changeling and it's bride as a place of vicious tribal conflict dating back to the very dawn of time. The Changeling's bride stood by it faithfully as it cut a swath through all who opposed it and gained a fierce reputation among the battle hardened denziens. The Changeling and it's bride soon gained the favor of the most powerful and feared of the local warlords, The Baron, and were welcomed into the compound that his inner circle enjoyed.
With The Baron and his forces at it's side, The Changeling conquered the wildlands of Edipee. However, all was not well. The Changeling's bride grew tired of the constant battle and how it shaped her mate. She finally resigned herself to leaving The Changeling for her ancestral home of Aye Tea. Soon the Changeling became restless again, The Gator's subtle corruption gnawing at it once more. The Changeling took up it's sword and left Edipee in the stewardship of the Baron and began the long journey back to the Aeem Sea to see if old alliances still held after all it's time away.
The Changeling sputtered and flailed as the final attacker straddled it, his hands going at once to The Changeling's throat. The attacker sat back and drew his blade, casually slicing away the straps of The Changeling's top. It spat in his face in fury, having no intention of being violated by such a base creature.
Before the brigand could react to the desperate act of anger, he was cruelly pierced by a bolt of green energy making a pulpy ruin of his trachea, leaving his head hanging onto his body by a thin cord of flesh. The body was soon kicked off The Changeling and it was helped to it's feet, it's top dropping off much to it's chagrin, although it's azure cheeks betrayed no sign of embarrassment, as it felt about as red as it's shining crimson hair.
The Green Man, notorious pirate of the Aeem Sea and a long time ally of The Changeling let out a low whistle of appreciation that was quickly stifled as The Changeling shifted to a more comfortable male form.
"So the stories are true, you still walk these blasted lands," came the voice of The Apostate, another former General of the Queen of Ceedee as he approached The Changeling, with a third, female companion behind him.
"Aye," came the terse reply, and the three embraced as men while the woman, inscrutable underneath her goggles and flowing scarf looked on.
"We sail the Aeem Sea seeking The Gator," the Apostate informed The Changeling. "We thought you might care to join us." The Changeling looked past The Apostate to the woman. "And her?"
"Ah've got a name, lad," she declared testily in a not unpleasant brogue. "Ah'm Thae Bad Example, pirate o' thae skies and seas." The Changeling quirked an eyebrow approvingly and turned to The Apostate. "I'll join your lot," he said, "and see where it takes me."
This is meant to end shortly prior to the events of Chapter Ten.
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Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2008 4:26 pm
The Holder huffed as she followed the monk up the twisting mountain path, which was rapidly approaching the dizzying heights of the clouds. As much as she hated that the trek was pushing her otherwise admirable constitution to it's limits, she had to inwardly chuckle at how fitting the Changeling's refuge was, the merciless climb mirroring the careful intellectual and emotional distance it maintained from all but a select few.
The wizened old monk leading her up the mountain stopped with the Holder nearly crashing into him, bringing herself out of her reverie just in time. Unperturbed, the monk pointed just over the next ridge at the barely visible top of a modest compound in the vague form of a monastery, evidently perched in a valley tantalizingly close. The monk nodded to her and began to work his way back down the mountain silently.
The Holder swished her canteen, judging that it was nearly empty and took one final swig. She was secretly apprehensive, but not out of fear. Despite the commanding presence and reputation that her status as the Holder afforded her, she also had a heart as vast as the Aeem Sea, taking a motherly shine to the Gator's various allies, especially the distant and troubled Changeling.
The Changeling had been a feared warrior across the sea and into the various lands it had carved out a reputation in from it's native Ceedee to the vicious and war torn Edipee which it had briefly ruled. Many was a sundown that saw the Changeling grimly threading through a pile of bodies to scrub their lifesblood from it's skin, but it was the mistake of many to think that it was the carnage that had struck it down.
Instead it was the ravages of honey sweet love turned to sour ichor that took their toll from it's first marriage to the woman posterity recalls as only The Bride to the dalliances and flings epitomized by The Changeling's fellow pirate The Bad Example. With it's heart in tatters, The Changeling sheathed it's sword and withdrew, retreating to pour itself into a rigorous study of the dark arts with the stated intent of reworking itself into a new being that could not be felled by such unseemly means.
Passing into the courtyard of The Changeling's compound, The Holder smiled as the sweet scent of incense greeted her arrival, distracting her from her continued musings regarding her impending host who knew naught of her arrival until one of a pair of smartly dressed attendants stood from his lounging beside a magnificent stone koi pond and disappeared inside, leaving the other to smooth his uniform and approach her. As he neared, The Holder was surprised to see a mixture of reverence and fear play across his features.
"Hold, young man, you have nothing to fear from me," she began beneficently, wondering if despite the sharp decline of the Gator's cult in recent years, this youth knew who stood in front of him.
"Praise to you," he welcomed her with a shaky smile, addressing her by the title which marked her as The Holder.
"How is it that in this remote place you know of the Gator?" she said, magnanimously accepting his praise.
"Our patron, who awaits you inside, has seen to it that we know well the history of the devourer and his allies on this plane.
It was a comforting thought that The Changeling had retained his devotion to the Gator throughout it's self imposed exile, she thought to herself as she was led into the main building, an asiatic style palace of dark mahogany, decorated in rugs and tapestries of crimson, black, and gold which had long been the preference of The Changeling in any of it's forms.
But her comfort was soon interrupted by a string of loud profanity from the other side of the wood framed rice paper door being presently slid open by her guide. The Holder stood in puzzlement for a few seconds, taking in the scene in front of her.
The Changeling, or so she surmised by the shimmering crimson hair tucked behind its ears, was stripped to the waist hovering over a shockingly beautiful and quite naked woman lying on her side as she watched the Changeling p***k her hip with a succession of needles, set up around a dazzling array of inks in all colours. It held up a finger requesting a minute to wrap up it's work, laying a few more lines of colour into the young woman's hip, eliciting a fresh stream of invective.
The Changeling motioned to the attendant who brought forward a dressing and pressed it to the woman's hip, eliciting a distinctly feminine hiss from her. He quickly secured it and backed off in fright. The Changeling watched this and laughed quietly, washing it's hands in a nearby basin. The Changeling then turned to The Holder and embraced her warmly, introducing the young woman, who was busy dressing in a silk kimono no less striking than her vibrant purple hair.
Posterity does not remember her well before this moment, much as she wished, except to say that she is remembered as The Muse following the fateful encounter with The Holder. All that is truly known of The Muse before she entered the canon of the Gator is that she rose from a miserable and difficult childhood to become a courtesan as famous for her wit and skill in battle as for her unique and unquestionable beauty, which is ostensibly how she came to be credited with the revival and transformation of The Changeling during its years of exile. The intricate and beautiful art embracing her body, curling about her as roses, skulls, and other elegant imagery befitting both her beauty and danger lend untold resonance to her title and influence.
Over tea, The Holder expounded on the reason for her visit, which was far from a happy affair. During The Changeling's exile, The Gator had gone into it's most recent hibernation to begin yet another evolution, which left the Aeem Sea vulnerable. Baku's fortress had fallen long ago, abandoned by it's denizens as the winds of change blew them to the four corners. A few valiant souls fought to maintain order and the dominion of the Gator over Aeem, led by the Joka and the fabled Lost Leader, but they faced a mounting insurrection that spit on the name of the Gator and profaned Him with apocrypha.
The insurrection could be quickly quelled by the newly emerged Gator, but the problem ran deeper, as the Holder grimly explained. An enraged and newly endowed Gator could bring about the end times in His rage at the crimes done to him, a state of affairs that was not preferable to all but the most zealous of the Gator's followers and allies.
The Changeling could feel that seed planted in it by the Gator when it was tender and young begin to throb once more, the siren call of which it could no more ignore than he could the entreaties of his old and valued friend. With a lingering kiss to The Muse, it declared that there was nothing for it, that they would depart the compound at once to rally what allies remained and rebuild what fractured alliances they could.
Soon the Changeling stood watching the compound burn, one arm around The Muse in a grim silence. The Holder and its attendants, carrying the essential belongings they would need, had gone on ahead, winding down the mountain. With one last look at the collapsing palace, the Changeling took her hand and began the long journey back into it's history with the fire smoldering in it's eyes just as it did in the ruins of its now forgotten refuge.
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