MEETING THE NATIVES - Part 3
On the way to Gimpys Deville and Hrothmir detoured to buy a snack for Hrothmirs rumbling stomach. They found an odd little shop that sold somthing called "Bison Burgers". The "Bull Burger", being the largest , was Hrothmir's choice while Deville was tempted to try the "Calf Burger Special" which also had little strips of fried pig on it with some sliced cheese and green leaves of some description.
"These are quite good you know?" Said Deville after he'd finished his
burger. He had chewed his, so Hrothmir had eaten three by the time he'd
finished one.
"Thank you kindly sir." Said the owner.
"These would sell well in the Empire, you should try some sort of
franchise."
"Oh sir, we don't get many Lunars in here sir, 'cept for a fair few of
the garrison. Come to mention it, they's probably me best customers."
"Exactly. In the Empire you'd be swamped by the Pelorians and lower
status Dara Happans, they'd love this kind of snack. Imagine the potential!
You could have every shop selling the same items, to the same standards. The
apparel could be the same and everyone would know what to expect. The peasants
would love it!"
The burger man blinked a few times as if imagining. Then he shook his head sadly. "Naw sir, it would't work. Who'd pay to eat the same food everywhere? Only morons sir, and they never have any money anyhows."
"Ah, well, I suppose you are right good sir. Well thank you for your
time and your wonderful edibles. Goodday." Deville had to pull Hrothmir out as
he lusted after another juicy lump of meat in a bun.
"And goodday to you too sir!" Said the Burger man. Once they'd gone he
turned round suddenly to one of his lackeys and clipped him hard over the head.
The boy yelled out in protest. "What the Hells you do that fer boss?" He
moaned, clutching his head.
"Cos you should 'ave manners like that nice gentlem'n that just left
instead of slobbing 'round all yer day. Anyway, don't you be talking back to
me!"
This time the boy ducked and fled to the kitchen, pursued by his irate employer. The other serving boys, veterans of many evasive manouvers, had a good chuckle at their fellows expense.
Deville and Hrothmir carried on their way, looking for Salt street. They'd been told by the burger man that Gimpys was right on the old walls so they moved towards their looming presence, confident of finding their way from there.
They deliberately ignored the main routes through town, instead they passed through the Suntown area where they were watched closely by several hard looking youths with gold arm-bands but they neither spoke to or interfered with the two Lunars. Deville smiled and waved but recieved no response.
"As ever, they are a standoffish lot Hrothmir. However, as ambassadors
of the Lunar Way we must set an example of "benign tolerance to the Empires
allies and subjects" a policy so brilliantly expounded upon by the Overseer."
To even a keen observers Deville's tone would have displayed no irony but
Hrothmir knew him better. Hrothmir said nothing though because he just didn't
care about Lunar intirgues and subtleties, all he wanted to do was axe
Morthanders enemies and have a good time.
Deville often felt envious of his giant friends singleminded devotion to destruction and complete lack of concern over anything else. If only my life was so simple! He thought.
As they walked Deville noticed something odd about a man just leaving a large, rundown, three-story tenament building on his left. The shifty looking man had a peculiar gait, almost drunk, but not quite the same.
Deville turned to Hrothmir. "Watch my back." He said and moved across the street to fall into step behind the man.
Hrothmir stayed where he was, concentrating on the focus for his Axe Sharpening Shout to Urain as he watched the street.
Deville moved quickly and was right behind the man in seconds. He appeared oblivious until Deville was an arms distance away and then suddenly he broke into a run.
It wasn't much of a run but he surprised Deville and got a slight head-start. Deville cast his mind to his spirits as he accelerated into a sprint. A spirit from the Lord of Movement, Mastakos formed out of the shapless blur of his bound powers and allies giving him a Gift of the Great Mover. He released a surge of spiritual energy and suddenly he sped up as the power surged though him His legs moving impossibly fast as he covered ground like a Cheetah.
The shambling escapee first knew of his failed attempt to flee when an Iron gauntlet grabbed him by the hair and propelled him head-first into the alley with tremendous force His feet barely touched the ground and he screamed
in panick. The unresistable momenum threw him forward, straight into a brick wall. The meaty crunch as his nose and left cheekbone broke weredistant in the man's far off mind as he bounced of the wall like a rag doll and assumed sprawl position on the muddy stones of the alley.
Deville bent over the man, doing a quick examination of him. Probably concussed, bleeding badly, but its a head wound so they always do. He opened the mans eyes and noted the dilation. Definately on Hazia. He thought. Good, it confirmed his suspicions. He brought a healing to mind and using his powers, he amplified its effect massively. It took little concentration for one of Deville's skill and power and the mans face healed up before his eyes.
Deville heard movement mehind him and turned to see Hrothmir standing at the alleys entrance. They said nothing to each other but Hrothmir understood Deville's look and adopted a guard position, facing into the street.
The man groaned. "Wake up!" Deville slapped him lightly. The man moaned again. This time Deville reached inside his robes to oneof the many pockets in there and produced a small bottle which he opened and waved under the mans nose. He spluttered to consciousness.
"Good. Now tell me about the place you just left, who owns it and do they
supply many people?"
The man looked both stubborn and fearful though his drug hazed gaze. He said nothing and jammed his lips together in a very determined way.
Oh dear. Thought Deville. What a shame. He pulled out his very sharp belt dagger and flipped the point in a tight arc, slicing deep into the mans cheek.
He screamed. Then bled.man ready to talk to me about things that happen in this city. You are that man." The man screamed in protest. "Shut up. Whats your name?" The point touched a tender cheek.
"Now tell me what I wish to know or that will not be the last part of
your anatomy I slice." Drawled Deville.
"The Brotherhood owns it, don't slice me!" He bawled.
"The Brotherhood, presumably you mean Blackfang?" The shining point
waved silkily in front of the mans face again.
"Yeah, yeah! Blackfang, don't hurt me no more!"
"How many in the operation?"
"Dunno, maybe ten in there, its a hangout, I'm an "associate" but I ain't
one of them!"
"An asociate. You mean a thief? Well little thief, know this. I need a
"Yullik, Yullick Croise!" He cried. 'They'll kill me for sure if I help
you!"
"Kill you? Dying is nothing Yullick Croise. Nothing. I can do things
to you that you wouldn't believe, more so after you are dead. Its more
entertaining then because the torment is eternal."
Yullick could feel the mind dulling effect of the Hazia fading as the adrenalin pumped his body clear. He knew that this Devil in human form would do what he said, and maybe worse. He didn't know how he knew this, maybe it was the animal part of his brain telling him to avoid extinction. "What do you want me to do?" He muttered.
Deville smiled. "Well thats the spirit! Nothing much, just swear an oath to serve me and obey my orders until I discharge you."
Yullick gfelt some relief inwardly. This idiot must have lost it he thought Yullick Croise could be bound by an oath for more time than it took him to get to a safe distance! "Okay, I'll take your oath." He said firmly.
Deville smiled even wider. "Swear to obey me in all things and to await my commands wherever I tell you to until I release you from this Oath. Give me your hand." Yullick complied. "Now you are bound by me to this Oath and I call upon Tarnils to witness and enforce this solemn vow!" His voice rose in power, becoming charged and resonating.
Yullick felt a heat in his hand and saw a glow spreading around their joined grip. "Swear!" Bellowed Deville, haloed by the glowing power.
Yullick tried to stop himself but felt his tracherous mouth move, as if driven by an overrdiding compulsion. "I so swear." He whispered.
At that moment he felt a bond form, chain-like between them and he knew somehow that if he ever broke that bond, he'd be deader than Dorasar. He started to cry.
Deville laughed. "Oh dear, how pathetic. Go on, get out of here, I have work do do. Do not leave town. Leave a contact address at the Silk'n Plume tommorrow. Now go!"
The weeping man lurched to his feet and fled through the other alley entrance. Deville rose to his feet and turned to Hrothmir. "Okay, lets get powered up." Hrothmir nodded.
Deville began summoning his power from the myriad places he drew it from. Spirits responded to his demands, allies to his requests and familiars to his orders. He weaved his magics through many different disciplines and faiths into the comprehensive web of power and magical might that was Morthander Deville.
His muscles swelled with strength and vitality, the world slowed around him as he summoned the Form Runes of the Universe into himself. His body was surrounded by glowing and invisble layers of shields from many sources that would repel all but the mightiest physical, magical and spiritual assaults.
He drew his sword; "Enlightenment" which was his ally Enlightened's spiritual housing and began summoning the great weapon magics of Tarnils and enhancements of Wizardry until the broadsword almost bucked and hissed in his hands like a live thing.
Hrothmir and his axe also glowed gleaming with the dull red-black power of Urain. The massive black-armoured warrior radiated a palpable menace that even Deville could feel, though he was unaffected. People for a block around them were though, many suddenly feeling their hearts race and their blood grow cold from some unnamable dread that infused them.
"We are ready, lets go and bring Imperial Law to the unworthy!" Snarled
Deville. Hrothmir roared his approval.
Martin Laurie (Part 4 to follow)
End of Glorantha Digest V2 #284
WWW material at http://hops.wharton.upenn.edu/~loren/rolegame.html
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