(no subject)
Moscow, 2011 september.
Otherside for this side.
a book by Gregory Arri-Att Mustafin.
Chapter 1
Also known as the worst introduction ever.
This story begins with the city. Not your average run by the day city, or not even a city you could see in the travel book. A special one. As a matter of fact, it was as special as it gets. It had, or (as some not overweighted by age claim) has most special people. It certainly has some spectacular views. Being a representative of massive hindu architecture, with rare materials in a mix, and one of the cleanest water channel network in the whole verse. The water is quite special indeed as well. Being a bit jade-ish and crystal clean at times, it oftenly(more oftenly then it was to local law-enforcement liking) hosted some of the universe's best chess matches.
And before you start wondering over chess in water deal, i will assure you that chess is special too, as are the matches, will get to it in a minute(or not). But more importantly the people are outstanding, as water chess is not their sole hobby, which could startle some outsider.
They are also known, were known in fact from the very begining, as the people of magic, power and rather neet tastes in clothing and drinking. For the city is the infamous Tau Larde, the middle of bright kindom in between of dull kindoms(these are official titles to the annoyance of some, rather unworthy of the mention, kindoms).
By now you could mistake this place for a really fun destination for a ride. But it is not. In truth by jokey facade i try to cover what a grimm place it is. For the source of grimm and violence, and some filth, and off course a bit of greed, fear and murder: all this sourced from boredom, which in it's place arised from ability to shut of the lights without leaving your bed. As it is well known to some eastern gods, such ability and many other lead to disaster and some lazy people living in bedrooms.
Magic being well spread and really not in control lead to siatuations, when you could leave home for a loaf of bread, and not discover home upon your arrival, or not discover a street as well. People get really upset when streets dissapear without their approval. And upset people don't shy to waste some other streets with their own magic. You can see how the chain of unfortunate events just rolled on and on.
But one morning some people, whose names are always hammered into young heads at boring places and washed out with the litre of crimson amber tea at other quite interesting places, these people stood one morning, faced other famous folks and said:"Enough is enough. We need to declare some stops here and there, before the whole city dissapears and there will be noone to get upset anymore".
Thus started the era of bright ideas and other ideas. Long story short: folks decided to go with creation of some system and some law-enforcement(which was never happy ever after). In fact this idea outran other quite bright in general election. Nuber two winner suggested to cast a preventive shield over city which would instantly transport anyones head in his rectum, if the one disturbed peace. The difference of votes was about two or three, but the practical difference is huge, for now we have a city full of magic guilds and orders, instead of one general guild for ass-headed folks.
People started to get occupied, mostly by dog-fights between guilds, but hey! At least nothing dissapeared without law having a headache over it. But there is more to this little history lesson. After several centuries of dog-fights, when people almost forgot the extent of word "boredom", and created other words to describe their life(which i can not deliver here in the midst of my well manners). Someone else became really well-fed with "how the stuff goes in this city".
It was the king Danny Latiren 74th. He was quite unspoiled, knew how to chop raw wood, and hated being told what tie to wear on a party. By some strange coincedence all Order heads of that time(and i mean all 286 of them, even minor ones) held politics as a fashionable hobby, especially royal ties. The conflict was inevitable.
One morning Danny rose from his royal bed and asked for law-enforcement general Cerdivarius and requested all Orders to be suspendented. This was far from rush decision, as Danny were sitting lots of evenings unpacking boxes with presnet ties surrounded by all his seven daughters, son, wife, mistress, two royal jokers, a dozen of close servantes and four dozens of those unclose. In his youth His Magesty Latiren 74th was not shy on crimson amber tea himself. So the only thing he remebered from history class was:"Enough is enough". And the length of first Head-master's beard as it was spectacular thing to remeber.
Thus starts our story as it is only afternoon and the some morning birds being late on scheldude still sing quite nice seranades. And the city is fully unaware that it is about to bear it's biggest brawl in history.
Chapter 2
Also known as Cerdi's ultimate headache list.
First and formost Cerdivarius is the man of power, not striped of his neat and cruel sense of humor. he was man in his mid fifty's, well of the 3rd century he roams this bright land. He also is a wise man, perhaps with uncertain memory deficite.
He didn't beat around a bush with the king. In fact after a nice dialog which consisted mostly of shouting, and screaming, and some lion rain bolts shot in the roof of crown hall, he came to conclusuion that he is well-fed as well. All the mages with the title of Order Head were not his friends. In fact they were friends of none and kind and caring to none(well most of them). Being the head of magic organisation requires outstanding abilities in magic, persuation, some economics, some mathematics, but mostly it requires ability to zap other heads off their shoulders in proper times.
As mentioned above a total number of organizations officially established is 286 with law-enforcement being the 286th. About a quater of these are quite harmless as a bowl of kittens. About a half are quite problematic at times. Remaining 25% is devided as follows: insanely twisted minds with undescribable amount of combat experience - 7%; killers with one leg in other dimension and with a hand at underground gambling wealth - 9%; those who discovered the secrets of universe and now quite angry about dissapointment - 4%; some total nuts with canon gunpower attitudes - 3%; and last but not least people with a very bright mind and a dream. These ones worried Cerdi most, because usually their dreams included some royal people dead, some streets dissapearing, some world axes shifted and some kittens drown.
Cerdivarius was now thinking over how to start the whole affair. He was not only the man of power, but could incorporate all the best qualities of the best quater of capital's mages into his own behavior, if the situation demanded.
Somewhere else in a place not special at all other person was thinking as well. This person was quite uncertain about magic cities in existance, or any city other then his own. But sooner then you could say ancient spell for lifting golden chunks of dragon skin in the moonlight, this person will become quite aware and involved with Cerdi's brand new headache. This person's name is Alan.
--- --- ---
The evening started to chew on afternoon. And the sky started to blush into sunset, and fade to the night. Somewhere back at Tau Larde but relatively far from annoyed law-enforcement general other person was in between thinking and acting. It was Copperhead smith Colgatoon. He is, as people down the street like to whisper, huge. And the kind of huge you could laugh over, but the one which could lead to some trauma. At the present time he was delivering trauma to the folks from Scorched Hound Order, who were rather rude to drop by his forgery without invintation and to try to steal a bunch of quite enchanting artifacts. This kind of situation was common and commonly resaulted in transmorfing of the order adepts into little metall balls, which Colgatoon sends back to their residence several blocks north.
Once a month One and Only Scorched Hound with golden crown of angel claws and teeth, the Order Head to All Scorched Hounds, Croern Darril sends him quite wrathful letter. Wrathful but polite, since Darril shops at forgery more then once a month, and doesn't want to cut his own discount.
- Golden crown, huh.. - nummed grimm smith, rolling some Dean tobacco in one of those letters - swear to the golden horn of prosperity, some day i will send him some chunks of his boys instead of this nice jewellery.
He then proceeded to light his joint from a fireplace which was quite happy since it got it's share of wrathful letters now and then. Croern was not sole in his visits to famous DragonGut forgery. Colgatoon was pretty famous for his skillful work, fine steel, and exquisite runes.
He made a long sniff over the burning roll of tobacco and started smoking. From the corner of the room a chair rose. it ran and pushed smoking giant in it's welcoming hug. From the same corner crawled lots of footcushions and one tea-table with long copper legs and a set of fine teapot made of wood and glass and furnished with a layer of gold plating. Blinking above it, a spell of three burning signs like a fireflies, engaged in circle dance. Teapot started spiting boiling water and steam, and soon the room was fille with thick tea smell and pretty mist. Rolled sigar started to quirk and sparkle from the moist in air. Colgatoon took the teapot and dried it in one sip.
-Oh i guess it's time to lift my rusty ass and do some work around here - he lifted his huge body and waved to the curious furniture -Hop, hop, hop, abeit, taffers!. They instantly started to make their escape. which resaulted into some local road accidents between tea-table and some arrogant cushion. As a resault pretty innocent teapot was running away without his ride.
-You rotten rascals! Move around! You make me look worse then at my last funeral! Gad dammit!- Colgatoon sent one of the cushions across the room with a foot-pinch. It landed on the stairs and continued it's way down.
-PUUUUMPKIN!!!- roared the stairs from the bottom of it's soul - How many times do i have to tell you not to throw furniture around the house!! Next time i will push your head in the cannon hole and then shove bridge poll up your arse, you son of an ogre and a wraith!
From the midst of the stairs a head appeared, a pretty cute head at other times was now quite furious. It was the girl of remarkably inadequete height, two-fold smaller then Colgatoon and ten-fold smaller then anyone who could emit such a scolding roar. She wore red curly hair and orange shades with some pale markings on her cheeks. Bulky pants with garterbelts were dirty in mud and coal.
-And move around a bit quicker, would you please? We have a customer downstairs.
-The hour is late. Smack him with that bridge pole, you were talking about.
-Ahem... Well he looks weird and he gives me creeps. Sneaky lad, covering his face with a spell, he is. He told me, he will speak with you privately and with none other and shat his trap, and not a drop of a word more. So you smack he thouself, will you! I will be taking my leave through fireplace today. - and she jumped in the fire. Golden girl: does what she tells, and tell what she does.
The giant smirked and started his descend. Which was accompanied by wide range of noises far from pleasing. The person at the counter was quite something. Take for example an aura of a wild tiger which quite certainly emits danger, style and problems. This guy could put a tiger to its shame. The person in question was not engaged in any activities a curious visitor might like. He was not looking at diffirent stuff wide-spread through visiting area, he was not banging on the counter impatiently. He was just there waiting solemn and noir.
-Copperhead smith, I am in need for your attendence. Your fame exceeds the heights of this broken town. I will lack an important word no more. I am..
- Whoa, good sir. I am sorry but I do not recall you cloudy face among my usual fellows.
- Of no importance! I will pay with raw Platas - he raised his hand palm down, and dropped pieces of interesting material for sight and thought, and certainly for some really rare smith-craft. Needless to say this gesture called some lights in smith's eyes.
- Well that's a curious turn, good sir.
- Indeed. I will need a certain rune manufacture from you. Consider this an advance payment for your uncommon skills.
- How should I call you, good sir?
- Call me Astreus.
--- --- ---
Being a fisherman in a place where no fish has ever led it's path is quite sucky. Or so thought young fellow named Grid Morigga. Grid in fact felt the irony even more bitter, as he disobeyed his father's dying wish. Father, being a wise lad, wished for Grid to join some Order and make a career there, but it just wasn't in their bloodline. And so Grid started to seek the rivers and channels of Tau Larde all across and straight from Green Quater to the Chamberalley. He never found much, but a silver nugget here, a lost port-monais there made his living in the Grey District. It is amazing how much people lose to the all mighty currents of a bit jade-ish and crystal at times. And Grid, being half-facete, was happy to help with the cleaning.
But this day was quite unusual. First of all there was not much fellows playing chess and meditating in water currents. Secondly, a very slick and nasty feeling started to breathen inside Grid's gut. For the thirds, the loot today was poor, and this never omened to anything great. Just when he was about to call it a day, and waste some money on trollettes blood, when Grid started to feel it beyond his gut. The water. It became frankly quite unfriendly, like a person which suddenly pulls an axe on creme-soup party. It was for a long second, this sour evil continued. And then it just dissapeared. Grid made a good water-breath sign and calmed his stomachs. And then his last breath ended.
Something choped his head of in an instant, and the water, jade-ish and crystal at times, also became red of blood.
--- --- ---
The dim lights in the room, far away from water borders, shivered. It was not a frightened shiver, but a rather pleasant one, when a candle gets trembled by a near standing bed, which in it's place is trembled by two young individuals of the opposite gender.
The woman, being more active, was on top and quite loud about her current mood. The man beneath was more shy, but quite capable. Above the bed glimmered a Octocrator sign of pleasure, quite fashionable trend among youngs, in fact was surprisingly the idea of the man. Suddenly the girl wispered an enchant, and started to grow a pair of beautiful pale wings. It was not the perfect incarnation and some feathers started to pop here and their in her hairstyle. But it was a good job judging the situation she was on. At the moment of culmination she went down on her partner for an extra taste and then left through the window to use that pair of wings. Leaving the Octa sign made her shrugg an left some bitter to her pleasure. As for a man he was happy and left to deal with a trigger curse which would squeeze his memory out of his head in the morning. The girl landed in the alley behind the house and already started to enchant some clothes for her naked body, but stopped in a middle. She was watched by a pair of fammiliar eyes.
- Have you ever heard about privacy and staring, Estoban?
- This is a public place after all. Ever being told that your skin is quite faboulous in the raw moonlight?
- Oh, don't - she turned her bare towards a figure in the shadow - I know what covers for this facade of words of yours.
- Yes, i am quite repeatful, am i?
- And i will answer within the same manner each time. I am not interested in your affairs nomore.
- You are wasting your talents for this? For some random filth? Seriously, Cheryl come to your senses. I beg you.
- For pleasure, and your deals don't irk a sparkle of pleasure in me. Tell this Head of yours, Adamesk, that I am not coming back. I am all over any Orders now. See ya nomore. - and she left, providing some lucky lads with evening show on her way.
The man in the dark waited for a while and left. Most curious about this man was, that soon his intentions would exceed the Adamesk-person orders and not concern this young angel Cheryl anymore.
For now these people will play quite decent roles. Even dead ones. Especially dead ones.
Chapter 3
Also known as the chapter for random happenings.
The night was growing old and leaving it's seat for the morning. This morning was far from easy chill. It began with a blast, since well-drunk acolyte for the Order of Moon Saints decided that it was a good idea to persuade totally wasted adept for the Order of Lotus Carpet with Dragon Grinder Blast spell at the seventh grade of power it was.
Fortunately barmen was quite experienced in such combinations and warped both culprits to the street. Both fools are totally blown to pieces, the street paving is now spread through out the roofs of near standing structures, as their facades are covering the ground instead. Related head-masters gave no comments for they are frankly still asleep as well as people who like to ask for a commentary.
In other part of town a headless body surfaced right in front of a royal boat belonging to the fifth daughter of the royal family. Young Lutecia felt for a morning trip across the Bellitact channel, but after the incedent she felt for quick ride home as strongly.
To the other news, a man completely stripped of his memory and clothing was found in the main park. But this was a concern to noone.
--- --- ---
At the same time i give you Alan. Alan was not a mage in traditional sense of the word. He was an artist and a writer. Sometimes he was a deliveryboy or a waiter in mid-class sushi bar. So to say homme universale. This particular morning Alan was the person to be completely late on his new audition for job occupation, and he tried his best in this role. In fact he overslept, missed a train, missed an elevator both in his housing and at job place, and frankly missed the guy who was supposed to refuse him.
Alan was not a bad person by any means, but misplaced. And clumsy, but well, the heart was big, and the soul was deep. And that's what really matters.
Scientists in Alan's universe were very unaware about existance of Tau Larde, bright and dull kindoms, and magic arts in general. They instead decided to discover stars and atoms, which in the opinion of some well known mages is totally useless. Stars are to big and to far to use, atoms are to small, so mages decided to stick with fireballs and thunderstorms. But we will not judge anyone.
The important part here is that despite the fact that the whole world did not see magic world as an option, Alan did. He was sitting at the bank of the road and putting around some pebbles, sand and a dead flower to form a nice picture. It was good, but not even near enough to get him a sandwich. While doing this several things raced through his head. Mostly about the battle between fried patatoes and rostershire sandwich in his stomach. But this battle was as illusional as the opportunity to sell dust and rock placed in a form of farden with a dead flower in the centre.
The composition reached pretty and Alan satisfied got up. He crossed the road to the 3-storey building and knocked again just to be shaved off by a chubby guard. After this he turned his direction towards home and started walking. The road was long.
He made a stop for a bear. A bottle ate his last cash. The time was nearing the six of seven p.m. as he reach his neibourhood. Stars strated to tear through sad sky full of transparent and little clouds. Alan stopped and thought again, but now it was about things certain gentlemen would find unworthy. His thoughts swirled around magic, and mages, and beautiful green water. Perhaps his thought could even reach a opalous naked angel or a headless half-breed lowlife, if he cared to think stronger. Lots of his paintings, stories and designs Alan was manifesting from such thoughts. Some of his run-by employers thought of it as rather rich imagination, but fantasy was not very popular around at the time. He was asked to create more sci-fi about distant stars or the science of atoms, but Alan could not by the same reasons, were mentioned above by some nameful mage.
-Somewhere else the sky is a lot prettier then this - he thought to himself - perhaps I should try doing novels about women in their ages, about flirt and sex, and then sell them in the soft cover. This kind of stuff seem to sell quite well. Ehhpff. - he threw the bottle and missed the can. - Guess not.
The key clanged full of joy and let Alan in his apartament. Contradictory to the most stories like his, his flat was not a cheap rent hole with a jewish landowner screaming a lot. It was quite decent suite which was left to him by his GrandPa. Parents decided to keep it as fail-safe option for a worst day in their financial career, but were not agreeing to actually live here, since it was quite misplaced towards city communications and transfer routes. Alan on the other hand was facinated by a separate workshop and a set of different equipement from the era, when architects were not involved with any electronic machines. GrandPa was a man of steel and loud voice, forged in northern climate, where he was in charge of several quite serious projects. Alan looked into the picture hanging on the wall behind a thin glass. His reflection was pale-ish and represented his stomach twisted in a knot.
- Higher forces missed on me today, I guess.
--- --- ---
There was a certain amount of gungrass in the air. Not enough to get high, but certainly to get addicted. Gungrass was a bane of the Grey and Black Districts. It is a magical drug, one of the few, the society of sorcerers could come to. From the frozen fairy dust and boiling potion of flat mountain it is separated by outstanding addiction hook and quite nasty and deadly symptoms. One of them includes wounds all over the body with gungrass growing out of them.
So poor souls were sitting in the smokery. They were arranged on the floor pillows with long slim smoking tubes. Some couldn't even cast Agnes with their own fingers to lit their slowdeaths. Some would remind you of a garden tree, so full of grass they were.
Remarkably, this sullen place was used by some strange folk for a meeting. In one of the private rooms two gentelmen were engaged in a conversation. One of them was usual to this place and was sitting on an old bar-chair, around him a golemness without a head was trimming the grass over the naked torso. The man was at his worse age and looked pale near a vibrant dress of the golemness. They were made without a head for a specific purpose of providing service while keeping gent's conversations private.
The other person was a man with the cloud instead of the face. He was seated and listened without much reaction.
- So, It is uncertain. Money from Aldo is in place. Copperhead is sealed, i suppose. He understands? - the man spoke in different speeds. Fast at times, slow at ends.
- No. He is aware only of a parts, but far from capable to tie loose ends to recreate picture in the whole. People of the skill are nor usually of the great smarts. - the voice beneath the cloud sounded weak in volume, but strong in intonation - I will need more of your cooperation.
- Do you have any hint of an idea how hard is it to move around being unnoticed and execute your tasks? - the man became uneasy - I require compensation.
- Am i obligated to remind you, why were you chosen for this tasks? Perhaps, you forgot that you led yourself into the lifestyle of fear and addiction. But not to worry, I am able to end it now. I will leave you with a hole in your chest, and none even know i was here. - Astreus took smoking tube and casted without incarnation an unknow spell. It started to crumble from the middle, and the hooded man let go of the ends. The disspersed before reached the ground. Old person tried to jump away and got struck into wall and cut by golem's scissors.
- Come now, Ladriy, don't spoil your procedures. Or some might notice gungrass sticking out of your collar.
Oldman returned to his seat. On the barber table appeared a note.
- Couldn't you tell me by a word... - he turned back, but there was no trace of recent presence - now he dissapears like a puff of smoke in a wind.. Wrap it up. - and he clapped the golemness on her chest. The man left no grass on the floor, it wiil all invest in the next visit.
--- --- ---
Cerdivarius was angry now. He was out of negotiations with some serious people. As expected, none of his familliar upper-ranks welcomed royal idea. Alarik, the Headmaster of the Order of Shining Spyral, stated that it is much easier to suspend royal family. Modasef, the Headmaster of the Order of Tainted Skies, left a third grade curse around the meeting point. Meeting could be hardly called a success.
Cerdi's problem was, that he was missing required force to eliminate all magic organisations. And the king wouldn't allow him to do this the clever way. Danny was so desperately angry that he called Cerdivarius again to attend one of summer balls in the royal palace. This event was full of pretentious shit and shiny glamour. It was made for people who couldn't afford doing serious magic and was engaged in games of etiquet and ploitic intrigues. Unfortunately, Alarik was dead wrong about the king. His presence was crutial for insider logics of the city. He was a pin holding together quite serious spells of the ancient times. As were his predecessors.
Just removing him would cause so much chaos, that it is easier to let him dance and drink as much as he can and accompany him by most useless and arrogant assholes of this society.
He was now getting ready to leave. Few things on his to-do list. These were mostly fool's errands in his opinion. But something is good to occupy his mind. The first: to disembowel his own organisation. Law-enforcement was full of good guys, but not partically bright. What he needed was a crew of very bright and powerful survivors without hobbies, depressions and mental problems.
The apparetament occupied py his persona was in White District in between Rorald street and Dorim's pass. Quite a safe place entirely because it was hidden in midst the streets and had no real adress. The entrance was camoufliaged as a fountain in the garden of an old toy factory. The garden was covered in doll parts, ceramic statuettes of winky dragons, and broken magic toys. Sometimes a toy would catch a string of magic energy and starts to do what enchanted toys do best: look nice, shine, cause noise, ruckus and chaos at times. Apart from being a lively decoration for a front yard, it was quite excentric alarm system. A headmaster-class mage, for instance, unwillingly drags along his strong aura, which is like a whole carpet of magic strings. The garden instantly goes ape-shit. They go as far as to enjoy going totally nuts. Chinese nutcrackers, flying wool fairy miniatures, voodoo dogs, laterns on chiken limbs: toy manufactures had exquisite taste in older times.
Just for an extra measure for those who could fool this system, Cerdi had a ton of traps planted inside his dwelling. One, for example, was designed to separate you and warp into four different places at once.
He was not alone. A toy lantern started smacking it's head into a mechanical lion, fairies rose, and soon the storm of noise and light manifested. It was all under the bright daylight that Cerdi standed neara fountain. A gesture and he snatched a cigarette out of a wooden envelope. He rolled his eyes over the turmoil.
-Aren't you going to come out and greet me? - under the arch in the passage between buildings a shadow gloomed.
Hooded sir was silent for a moment, then rose hisplam slightly and whispered -abeit, arcane fire, axesis teus agnes irridar'ri oteri koes-to agnes ri. - an arc of lightning and fire cut through the garden like a swift knife through weak grass.
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