Anthraximander

Well, I suppose it is time to wrap up the events on the tanker.

You will have to pardon me if you find significant differences in the way that I tell this tale as opposed to how our dear Rusty would do so. He seems to have taken to this online journaling/writing business, while I write merely to convey information.

The Bane—an old foe that I have known since our run-ins during the Bronze Age in Ancient Greece as Anthraximander—was caught entirely flat-footed by our maneuver. Anthraximander had anticipated that he would be able to create problems for Rusty because of all of the vestiges of the Drashe’en that remained within the poor lad, but he had not anticipated that Rusty would be willing to surrender his body to me.

Before I could deal with my old foe, however, I had to regain control over the Drashe’en insurgency and put ‘Ma Grendel’ (that is a fabulous name for the old gal, if I don’t say so myself) back into place. It was easier for me that it was for Rusty simply because I am just as ruthless and evil as that old bitch ever was. In short order I used my Will to shatter her into the multitudes of shards that Rusty refers to as ‘the Voices’ and shove those pieces back into their appropriate places.

Anthraximander had stood there watching, assuming that his spell was working as planned on Rusty. Ever since I was very young, I have realized that my own ‘Spirit form’ (to use another Rusty-ism) is completely invisible to even the most powerful Casters, it is something that has served me very well over the millennia. Knowing that the Bane would be unable to discern that I was now in control over Rusty’s body, I staggered to my feet and acted as if I was moving to sit upon the throne of the dead that he had wanted Rusty to sit in.

One thing that I have tried to pass on to Rusty, especially in dealing with An’girasii and their servants and allies, is that it is useless to spend much time talking to them. Rusty always seems to find himself engaging in conversations with these creatures, which is completely useless. The one time he had success against a doppelganger was when he used that damn sword of his to lop its head off without any discussion or warning. These creatures use conversation, discussions, and speeches to measure up and then deceive their foes as their weave their own hidden spells to take advantage of their prey. The most effective way in dealing with these enemies is ruthless, merciless, and sudden violence.

Take our friend Anthraximander for an example.

He is rather typical for a Bane. Banes are creatures of almost pure Spirit. They don’t have physical bodies of their own, so they have to possess someone—usually just a normal person of any race or sex—and then consuming the victims’ own Spirit to fuel the transformation of that body into a form that the Bane perceives as having the maximum intimidation factor for other humans. The process of possessing, then molding and shaping that body takes several years at the minimum, and can take decades. By taking on forms that most humans see only in their nightmares and then surrounding themselves with a cadre of undead Reavers, all while wielding equal amounts of magick and fear Banes usually avoid any physical confrontations.

If Rusty had taken my advice from the beginning, he would never have listened to Anthraximander in the first place. He should have continued acting like the killing machine he was designed to be, and left the talking for another time. Instead, he treats these creatures like he’s a liberal social worker on a mission to solve all of the world’s ills.

I didn’t make that mistake. Before Anthraximander could figure out that his tightly woven spells were now useless, I barreled into him, snapping his staff like a twig with one blow. As the creature staggered back and stumbled, I wrapped my left arm around its head and dragged him down in a head lock.

He knew he was in trouble now as I felt the panic rise within him. His scrawny, pasty bald head was now uncovered, revealing the twisted, warped face of a once young Asian man. “What are you doing, Brother?”

I smiled. “You old fool, Anthraximander. You’re not dealing with the kid any more. I hope you didn’t invest too much time in this body, you fool, because you are about to lose it.”

“Only one human knows that name…it cannot be…”

I smiled again as I yanked the head off of its scrawny neck.

The Banes screamed in pain and defiance as its physical body collapsed in a heap. Its Spirit slipped from the body and gathered into a dark mist that hung in the air in front of me.

“How is this possible?”

I dropped the early bloodless head onto the floor and turned my back on the now virtually harmless mist before replying. “I am not inclined to aid you in answering that question, Anthraximander. But, while you search out a new body, you might contemplate what new tactics you and your kind will need to deal with the likes of me again. You caught the kid unaware this time, but that won’t happen again, I can promise you that. Now move along. I have things to do here.”

The black mist that was all that was left of the Bane gathered into a tight ball as I glanced back at it and passed through the hull of the ship into the daylight beyond.

Now that the Bane was physically destroyed, the band of Reavers that depended on its power would collapse back into lifelessness.

As the throne behind me melted into a pile of rotting body parts, I turned and stood over that damnable sword. I could feel its hatred radiating up at me. I couldn’t leave a sword like this laying on this ship would soon be swarming with disgusted sailors and Coast Guardsmen, so I knelt down and held Rusty’s gloved hand over the white hot hilt.

“Look, Blade. I know you detest me as much as I detest you. But let me pick you up long enough to sheath you in that place where Rusty has devised for you and then you can wait for him to return. I will not attempt to use you in any fashion.”

It relented for the brief moment that allowed me to pick it up and sheath it, allowing it to slip back into the Shadowland.

I left the cabin and headed to the helm of the ship, passing the bodies of the Reavers that now lay motionless where they had last stood.

Once at the helm, I pushed aside the slumped body of the Reaver that had been steering the ship and pulled back on the handle that controlled the speed of the engines. Slowly the ship began to stop its forward motion.

Last, I slipped back down to the deck long enough to find the flagpole and hoist the Coast Guard flag that Rusty had been given by that Commander.

I didn’t stick around to see the reaction of the assault teams.

Homeland Insecurity...Part 3

I closed down the SecureNet connection from my laptop and sat back, thinking.

I was obviously going to have to get on that damn ship, but how strong was that…creature…with the staff? Were those undead crewman zombies or were they some other kind of unknown undead creatures? What were these things doing on a tanker full of crude oil heading to the US?

As I tried to come up with some coherent answers to those questions, I remembered a snippet of the really long conversation that I had with Drake at Yggsdrasil this last time.

***

“My father and the rest of the An’girasii will not try to take direct control of any population, but with use their angelic image and the religious imagery of the people they are trying to fool in order to gain control of their hearts and minds.

“They have any number of very dark and evil looking servants who serve them in secret. The Doppelgangers are one example but there are others as well. It should be quite obvious by now how the Doppelgangers operate. But you haven’t yet seen the full arsenal of servants that the An’girasii have to call upon.”

“So why don’t you enlighten me then, Drake?”

He laughed. “Rusty, you have no idea how many of humanity’s nightmares are based in reality. The An’girasii have dozens of different orders of secret servants that they use to sow terror, chaos, and discord so that they can ‘ride’ in to save the day.”

“Such as?”

“Well, if you haven’t seen them already, you are likely to soon encounter the Banes and their servants the Reavers.”

“What the hell is a Bane?”

“The Banes are a race of foul creatures that have been some of the most reliable and predictable servants of the An’girasii over the eons. They are tall, thin creatures that cause disease and terror wherever they go. Many of the worst epidemics of disease in the history of human kind were caused by their activities. They are also Casters of tremendous power; each one would be a good rival of El Diablito on the scale of raw power, although their powers tend to be more focused darkness, shadow, deception and Necromancy. I have known some to have command over elemental powers such as water or air as well, but those are rare.

“The Banes have been dormant for quite some time. The last time I faced them was during the Black Death that ravaged Europe, but I have heard that some of them had gone to ground in very remote locations in Africa and Asia. Wherever the Banes show up, they are likely to be accompanied by a retinue of Reavers.”

“So what are these Reavers then?”

“Reavers are created by Banes from humans they come into contact with. They are usually low-life riffraff such as criminals, pirates, mercenaries, or other types of men who harbor a certain amount of evil within themselves. The Bane promises these men (very rarely will they be women) eternal life and power beyond their comprehension to serve them. They immediately gain an almost supernatural strength, the ability to ignore even grievous wounds, and the inability to experience pain. The longer they are around the Bane, however, the more of their life energy is consumed by the Bane. Almost all of them die within weeks, but then the Bane animates their bodies, calling forth other dark Spirits from beyond the veil to animate the corpses. They are then officially Reavers. The Spirits that are called to serve as Reavers are chaotic and evil in nature, reveling in death and destruction.”

“You know Drake, there’s something awful familiar about this who Bane and Reaver scheme. The Bane promises eternal life and power, eh? I seem to recall some similar discussions with you.”

“Bones, I did what I had to do. I make no claims to being a good person. If I hadn’t taken those actions, you wouldn’t be in the position that you are now in.”

“You prick. If you hadn’t created the Omega Project, none of this shit would have happened in the first damn place.”

“Sorry Bones. However much you might like to think so, I didn’t cause all of the woes of this world. Events have been in motion for hundreds of years, ever since I last helped to defeat the An’girasii. With the rapid changes in human society over the last couple of centuries, I knew that I would no longer be able to defeat the An’girasii and their servants again by myself. I needed allies who were strong enough to face these foes with or without me. The Omega Project accelerated things perhaps a little faster than I was prepared for, but now that I am unable to participate in the battle, you are here to fight in my place, with a set of allies (and even perhaps some enemies) who can help you in this fight.

“You have the strength of the Drashe’en flowing through you now, Bones. You have a body that is as indestructible as I once was, and you have the drive and enthusiasm for the fight that had been ebbing from me.

“Your charge that I had resorted to the tactics of my enemies is all too true. It is precisely that reason that I have fallen. I could not have won this coming battle. I don’t know for sure if you can either, but you and your allies will have a far better chance than I would have.”

That left me speechless for a moment.

“OK, so how do I defeat these creatures? Tell me everything that you can…”

***

“Damn, a Bane is on the move already.”

I reached down and picked up my cell phone. I clicked through the menu, found the last number that called me, and hit the call button.

“Hello, Commander Stennos? Yeah, this is Agent Bones. Tell me your location and I will be there within the hour. I think I might be the only one who can help you with this current situation.”

A Visit From an Old (New?) Enemy

After several minutes of trying to sort things out in my head, I felt a change in the atmosphere of this place. Even though I can’t feel temperature changes, I could feel the chill that descended on the clearing as a being stepped from the surrounding forest and cast a long, deep shadow.

Papa Locks.

The leaves of the tree whispered in the whipping winds.

I stood up and began picking my way through the tangled roots towards the edge of the canopy.

Papa Locks made his way towards the tree.

We met in at the very edge of the canopy. Only his shadow fell across the threshold of the tree’s reach.

“Locks, what are you doing here?”

His tall frame towered over me. His dark cloak blew in the wind, but his hood remained in place. He was wearing heavy boots, dark trousers and a tunic-like shirt that was tucked into a large, black leather belt with a heavy brass buckle. His frame was thinner than I remembered. He brought his arms up to his chest, folding them as he stood there staring at me. His hands were covered in long black gauntlets. No part of his skin was visible.

He spoke in that same deep Haitian-accented rumble that he had always used when he finally answered me. “I am looking for you, Bones.”

“Why?”

His head tilted back as he let forth a hearty laugh. “Because, Bones, you have something that I want.”

My hands were down at my side, clenched in anger. I made a special effort to open my fists and work my fingers. I had the feeling that I would need to use them soon. “I’m not prepared to give you anything that I have, Locks. I would strongly recommend that you return to your new owners and forget how you found me.”

He shook his head back and forth. “I’m not going to do that, Bones, not until you give me what I want.”

My right hand began to creep up my side towards my shoulder, where Excalibur waited. “Just what is it that you want, then?”

He uncrossed his arms and held his hands out in front of him. “Keep your shiny blade sheathed, Bones. I don’t think you will actually miss what it is that I have come for.”

I stopped my hand about waist high, but did not drop it. I knew that I could draw the blade and strike him down before he could draw any weapons on me. I was also reasonably confident that whatever power he had over Spirits would be of little use against the Darkness that already resided within me. He had been killed before I met Ma Grendel.

“I’m listening.”

“I’ve come for Drake. Give him to me.”

I was taken aback at that. “What do you mean? Drake’s dead. Didn’t El Diablito fill you in on that front since you’ve come back?”

A rumbling chuckle leaked forth from beneath the hood. “Yes, I know that Drake’s body has been taken by his father. I also know that you possess a token with his Spirit contained within it. That is what I have come for, Bones. Give it to me and you will be done with him forever.”

I had to admit that I did at least consider agreeing to his request. Drake was a pain in the ass and there was a certain amount of justice in the idea that I pass the jerk into the hands of one of his former minions.

“OK, even if I did admit to knowing what you are talking about, why would I do that, Locks? Why would I turn over the Spirit of one of my greatest enemies to another enemy, who is himself newly risen from the dead?”

“Stop playing games, Bones. We both know that you have Drake’s Spirit with you right now. I want him for my own purposes, which are none of your concern.”

I shook my head this time. “That’s not good enough. You’ve got a shit load of convincing to do before I’ll even entertain the notion of giving him up. What are you up to? Why shouldn’t I just strike you down right here and be done with you?”

He crossed his arms again. “When my Spirit roamed the worlds, I learned things. I know things about those creatures that I doubt Drake has revealed to you yet. I know what it is that you face. I also know what it is that you’ve become.”

“And just what is that?”

“Drashe’en.”

Hearing that word come from him caught me by total surprise. “What did you just say?”

“I know that your Spirit has been meshed with that of a Drashe’en. I know that you have somehow made yourself into that which the An’girasii fear the most. You have the soul of a Man, but the power and strength of a Drashe’en. You are a marked man, Bones. The An’girasii will not be able to ignore you for long. Once they learn that you have all of Drake’s knowledge at your disposal, you will find no safe haven from their minions.”

“How the fuck do you know all of this, Locks?”

He threw his head back and laughed again. “Bones, you may have the essence of a Drashe’en within you, but you are still that naïve local cop at heart. You are but a babe in this realm of Spirits and Magick, of Angels and Demons. I have made a lifetime of study in this realm. No matter how much Drake thought of you, you will never be up to the tasks that will be required of you. Give Drake to me. I will make him give me the knowledge of how to destroy the An’girasii. I will share that knowledge with you and your allies. We can join forces and destroy them once and for all.” He had moved forward as he spoke until he was right outside of the edge of the canopy of Yggsdrasil, but he stopped short of crossing that threshold.

I reached up with my left hand and touched the ring that dangled from its chain around my neck. I pulled it out from underneath my shirt to let it hang in full view. “How can I trust that you are actually Papa Locks? How can I trust you even if you are who you appear to be? How do I know that you aren’t one of the An’girasii or one of their servants?”

He stood silently as I took a big step backwards, so that he would have to come well under the canopy of the tree, something which he seemed unwilling to do. I used my left hand to pull the chain that held the ring over my head. I reached up and placed the chain over one of the lower hanging branches and over a clump of fluttering leaves.

The wind had really picked up. I hadn’t noticed it before as we spoke, but the branches of the tree and our clothes were being whipped about by the howling, swirling winds. We were at the center of a maelstrom.

My words were barely audible over the rustle of the leaves and the creaking of the branches. As I spoke, I noticed that the one branch that remained motionless in this whole mess was the one from which Drake hung motionless and unaffected.

“If you want him so bad, Locks-or whoever the Hell else you are, come and get him for yourself.”

It looked like he was trying to walk into the zone defined by the canopy, but he couldn’t push through. He reached out one grasping hand as the winds picked up even higher speeds, pushing him back even further.

“Don’t be such a fool Bones! Give him to me! I will have him!”

His voice grew fainter and fainter as his body became slightly translucent and was pushed farther and farther back.

“You are doomed, Drashe’en!”
With that last echoing cry, he was gone. Just as quickly as they had come, the winds died down.

All was quiet, except for the chuckling rustle of the leaves of Yggsdrasil. I shook my head in disbelief as I reached up and picked the necklace off the branch and balled the chain up in my closed fist.

“Fuck. There was my chance to get rid of your dumb ass, Drake. But it looks like you and I have some more talking to do.”

Drake's Tale--#3

It appears that my rather unreliable ‘host’ has finally permitted me to tell my story again. Given his track record, I am going to make the most of this opportunity. Please pardon the length of this post, but this information that will be needed if he and his allies are to have even a prayer of success in this endeavor.

Some of this tale has been mentioned previously, although others have spun the tale to suit their needs, instead of mine. You may rest assured that what I have to say is in fact The Truth.

In my youth, I was seen as the defective child. I had no visible manifestation of the power of the An’girasii running through me like Sorud and Nehmad did. In addition to their powers, they also had the physical stature that allowed them to dominate the normal humans around them, while I was seen as small even by the standards of the people of my home city of Ur.

When it was established that I would never grow out of my puny stature, I was ignored by my father. He also ordered my brothers to ignore me as well, stating that I was not worth their time or attention.

So as my brothers were personally tutored by Dracaar in how to harness their abilities and in the arts of war, I was left to my own devices. I spent my time learning how to be come invisible. I was not invisible in any kind of magickal sense, mind you, but invisible in the way that servants and slaves are invisible around their masters. Such folk are taught early on to keep to the sides, remain silent unless spoken to, and to be properly deferential at all times, head bowed, as they move from task to task, always keeping busy with some little task or another. Following those guidelines, slaves can slip in and out of the most private moments of their masters without being consciously noticed.

It was during a number of those private moments between Dracaar and my brothers that I learned of the true nature of the An’girasii. He spoke to them at such times in the harsh, foreign tongue of the An’girasii, a language I had heard previously only in my dreams, but I found that I somehow understood what was being said.

As I listened to him tell the stories of Creation and Destruction from the An’girasii perspective, I began to understand that Dracaar was not alone, but was instead one of at least several dozen other such beings who had come to this world with the goal to rule over it as gods.

Indeed, many of the names of other such entities that Dracaar told my brothers about, were names of myth and legend that the people of Ur worshipped as Gods, or feared as Demons.

Here is a snippet of one particularly interesting lesson:

Sorud: “Father, these people are so weak! Why must we live among them as we do? Why can’t we set ourselves apart as some of the others have done and just be worshipped as is our right?”

Dracaar: “That is a very good question, son. Each of the others, including Tiamat, has lived amongst these weak humans just as we ourselves are doing now. In other worlds, other places, we have come and conquered or ruled without having to live amongst the lesser beings that inhabit those places, however this world, this place is different. This is a world of flesh and bone. In order for our full powers to manifest here in this place, we must be born of flesh to a creature that is native to this place. That is why your mother, as strong as she is, is still human.”

Nehmad: “Is that why Sorud and I have to train so hard to come into our full strength, because we were born of a human mother?”

Dracaar: “Indeed. It is no small or easy thing, even for the Spirit of an An’girasii to access its full array of powers and memories once it is born into the flesh, as you two have so recently been. There is something about this world and the laws that bind it that prevents almost all Spirits, even those of us who are so much stronger than humans, from having access to the full knowledge of who and what they truly are.”

Sorud: “So both Nehmad and I are of the same order as you?”

Dracaar: “Yes. Both of you are strong An’girasii Spirits. Once you have learned how to fully manifest yourselves, you will come to realize your true nature and take your rightful place amongst us.”

Nehmad: “Father, what of our younger brother…”

Dracaar: “Shush Nehmad. His name is not to be spoken of in our language. His Spirit is weak and puny. He is not of our kind. Something went terribly wrong with him. Your mother’s human weakness must have allowed for a lesser Spirit to come during our coupling. He is not your brother. He is a human.” That last word was spit out like it was an insult.

Sorud: “So why was it allowed to live? Why don’t we kill him so that our name is not associated with something so weak?”

Dracaar: He laughed before responding, a deep, chilling laugh. “Ah Sorud, you are coming into your own. It will not be long now before you Awaken to your true self. But let me answer this question. When a child is first born, the connection between the Spirit and the flesh is not as strong as it will become over time. It is not immediately apparent with young babies in this world just what kind of Spirit has attached itself to body of the baby. For that reason, some patience is required. When that child was born, the body was small and puny, but the Spirit was strong and bright. I had great hopes that one of my ancient brethren had come through the Veil that separates our native world from this one. But while his Spirit showed strength and vitality for an infant, it never developed beyond the initial promise that he had showed. Instead, as he grew into childhood, his Spirit seemed to diminish even further, changing in ways that I had never before seen, even for a human. Once it was clear to me that he was not one of us, I resolved to study him for my own purposes. Once I have learned all that I can from him, he shall be sent to his death.”

Nehmad: “Will you give him to us, father? Can we slay him?”

Dracaar: “No. That is something that I cannot risk. As much as I believe that he is not of the An’girasii, there are laws that may not be broken. His death will have to be at the hands of others. Have no fear. There are no laws of any consequence that prevent humans from killing each other. In fact, it is something that humans are very good at. They can be made to kill each other with very little incentive.”

Sorud: “What laws prevent us from killing each other, father?”

Dracaar: “When you come through your Awakening, these things will be known to you. But it is good to discuss them now so that you don’t violate the law unwittingly. You must never slay another An’girasii.”

Sorud: “Why not? Haven’t you been teaching us that we are Immortal spirits, that if this body is slain that we will be able to take over another at our leisure?”

Dracaar: “Yes. All of that is true. But if you have not gone through your Awakening, you will have to be born again into the body of another human child. Once you have been Awakened, you will have the ability to take on the body of any living creature near you and modify that one to suit your needs. However, if one An’girasii slays another, things are different. A struggle between two of us not merely a struggle of flesh of bone, but of Power and Spirit as well. We are a primal race. If one An’girasii were to slay another, terrible things happen, the Spirits of both entities merge and change, becoming something dark and chaotic. The name we have for those creatures that survive such an event the Drashe’en—the Fallen. If you fail to honor the law and become Drashe’en, there is no return. There is only hunger and pain, suffering and loss.”

Nehmad: “Are there Drashe’en here in this world?”

Dracaar: “Yes. There are a few. We must always keep a vigilant eye out for them, for they are among the greatest dangers we face.”

Sorud: “How can the Drashe’en be stopped then, father? Can we slay them without suffering the same fate?”

Dracaar: “There are ways of dealing with the Drashe’en, but you will not be able to understand them until you have gone through your Awakening. Now, let us go train with our weapons, soon it will be time to test you in battle.”