From: albert@chain.ssctr.bcm.tmc.edu (Rick Jones) Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: [GATM] Krupp: Dream Warriors Date: 17 Sep 1993 22:38:40 GMT Message-ID: <27de9g$q4k@gazette.bcm.tmc.edu> Part -1- Into the Breach Where does the answer lie? Living from day to day If it's something we can't buy There must be another way We are spirits in the material world --The Police:Spirits In The Material World. I was beat, but I had done my part, and now I all I had to was sit back and watch the fireworks. I didn't figure it would be difficult. Heck, there was about forty 'leven priests, not to mention a couple of mages hanging out playing "snuff the demigod." Besides, as the cynic in me pointed out, if they failed, there wasn't anywhere I could hide. The etherial lightshow was starting to hurt my eyes, so I looked away for a moment, blinking to clear them. Off to the side, I saw Zip looking up at the battle with rapt attention. Something was funny about him, so I looked closer, squinting to see his aura. CRAP! Two of them. One I recognised, a dark blue-green of tough independence. The second, a swirling red maelstrom of psychosis. Mister No-Body was back. I had figured out, eventually, that Br'Nai's hitman/thief was a ghost or demon or something sort of like me. And now it had the kid. Can't I ever get a break? Don't answer that. "Zip" saw me and smiled a sick grin. He was holding something, exactly what I couldn't tell, but I knew it had to be bad. I phased through the crowd. "Zip" scowled and started pushing through the crowd to the circle of clerics. I got to him with little trouble. The crowd was think and "Zip" couldn't phase through it like I could. "Out of the kid, scumbag." I said, oozing fear. "Zip" cackled with dark mirth. "Oh, I'm soooo scared, Krupp. Can't spook a spook." Now that I was close to him, I could see what he was holding: a dagger, one that to my sight glowed with a black aura. I reached out with my mind to knock it out of his hands, but it didn't move. "You must be kidding. I'm a ghost too, you little dork." In a fluid motion, "Zip" brought the dagger up to his throat. "Let me by, or I waste the kid." "I can't let you do that," I said warily. I knew he would do it. But I had to stall for time until someone else took notice. There's never a cop when you need one, and that goes double for wizards. "I figured as much. You hated kids, didn't you. Couldn't wait to get off the farm, couldn't you?" "Huh?" I said. This threw me. Was he reading my mind? "'Huh?', oh ever the witty, repartee, Krupp," taunted "Zip." I started to take a step forward. "Zip" pressed the dagger closer to his own throat. "Not one step, flatfoot." "Okay, okay. Let's work this out. Look, let the kid go. The lizard's about to become handbags. Just beat it." "Beat it? I'd much rather beat you. In fact, I think I'll waste your wussy sidekick anyway." The dagger started to press harder against his throat. I knew I couldn't stop it. So I had to break his control of Zip. I'd never done this before, but I dove forward, into Zip. : : : : V Darkness. I reached out with my mind, trying to find Zip or the dickweed possessing him. The darkness turned to grey. All around me, I heard muffled cries for help. "Zip?" I called out. The grey lightened even more. I could feel Zip's all encompassing presence. But I could feel a darkness as well, muffling the cries. "I'm sorry, Zip's busy right now. But if you leave a message I'm sure he'll get back to you." A spotlight from the sky flared. In the distance, I saw it illuminate a gagged and tied up Zip sitting on a chair. Next to him stood a cloaked man. "So, this is how we settle this, eh? Phantom to phantom. Good." The figure gestured, and the greyness started to resolve itself. "Free the boy, Krupp. Shouldn't be to hard for you, Mister Bigshot. And try not to make this too easy for me." Part -2- Trip Down Memory Lane Hold your fire -- Keep it burning bright Hold the flame 'til the dream ignites -- A spirit with a vision is a dream with a mission --Rush:"Mission" The dense gray fog that made up Zip's possessed mind snapped into resolution. The Shire in summertime. Off in the distance, I saw the gardens my family worked in, and the mill Uncle Tanner ran, and, off in the distance, the Bilderbom estates. I was standing in the middle of the town square, looking up at the statue of the Ringbearer. I looked around. The city was perfect in every detail, save one. No hobbits. Well, thank heavens for little favors. Whatever I was, I figured I was a target in the middle of town, so I ran over to Milty's Milkbar. Imagine my suprise when I bounced off the wall. I started touching the walls and the pony hitch. I ran my fingers over the smooth glass of the storefront window, the rough wood of the walls. I had almost forgotten what it was like, being solid. When I pick up things, it's more moving it with my mind than touching them; nothing "feels" right. I was solid, or a reasonable likeness of it. I heard a rumbling noise from the distance, so I ducked around to the side of the building and crouched behind a barrel. Since I croaked, I've seen a lot of weird stuff, but a floating skiff pulled by twenty or so T-Crocs is downright odd. Sure enough, the big guy was driving the crocs with a cat o' nine tails. I took a moment to study the guy. He was big, easily six feet plus. And he was pretty hefty too, with a gutt on him my Aunt Tinnie would be jealous of. But there was a wrongness about him, like he was put together wrong. He was proportioned, well, wrong. I couldn't put my finger on it then. What I wanted to put my finger on was a knife, to gut this bastard. I felt a little twinge, and there was a knife in my hand. My knife, from the Lizard Wars. The cloaked dude cocked his head, like he heard something. I froze. "You're learning Faraway. But I've got a lot more practice at this." He cracked the whip and headed further down the street. "Come out, come out wherever you are," he called as he ran out of sight. I don't think so. I watched him ride away. So, we can make stuff. It was much easier than in the real world too. I guessed we were in some kind of dream that Dickweed was manipulating. Zip wasn't on the skiff with Nameless, so I figured I had to find him to kick this asshole out of his head. I needed to travel, but quick. Then I remembered something I saw in 'Raelf's workshop. My face screwed up in concentration, and one of his skyboards appeared, hovering a few feet in front of me. "Okay, now you are going to behave, and not toss me off or drop me," I whispered to it. It bobbed in front of me. Well, it's a darn sight more quiet than a buncha crocs. I carefully sat down on the middle of the board. I told it to rise, and it obediently rose a couple of feet off the ground. I quickly told it to stop. I didn't want to be seen, after all, and looking up I saw some big mongohela flapping through the sky on huge black wings. "Stay frosty," I told myself. When I was sure that Nameless was far enough down the street, I poked my head out into Main Street. He was gone. But where in the Nine Hells was Zip? Okay detective, I thought, figure this one out. I assumed the scenery was from my head, but how Nameless could get it all so quick was beyond me. So, Zip should be someplace safe. Someplace hard to find. The toughest place to break into in the Shire. A smirk crossed my face. The Bilderbom Estates. Gotcha. The problem was, naturally, getting there. I concentrated on making myself invisible, but it didn't seem to work, and that flying guy looked nasty. I wished I could see him better, and a spyglass appeared in my hands. Handy thing, this wishing business. I took a gander at the flying guy. It was a big tough-looking guy with wings the size of a horse. He had a dull expression on his mug that I hoped was indicative of his brains. Or lack therein. I recognized him. Nolrimm, the flying Waster. He-- Oh crap, I thought. Pieces fell into place. Everything all made sense. Now I just needed to survive long enough to prove myself right. Part -3- Bayou Bash I can still remember the 4th of July, running through the backwood bare. And I can still remember my hound dog barkin', Chasin' down a hoodoo there. Chasin' down a hoodoo there. Born on the Bayou... --Born on the Bayou, CCR I needed a diversion, something to get Nolrimm off my heinie. I looked around in the alleyway. Nothing helpful there. I glanced at the square, at the statue I had sat under for hours, reading his tale. Got it. I concentrated, and a barrel with a long fuse wavered into existence in front of me. I reached out with a newly lit cigar, and lit the fuse. I gave the barrel a kick and it rolled out into the Square. Meanwhile, I was on the skyboard, heading in the opposite direction as fast as I could. It was the best fireworks show the Shire had ever seen. Too bad there were only two spectators, and I wasn't watching it. Nolrimm was swooping down to look at the pretty show, and I was hoping his boss was checking it out too. Me, I was already out of town, zipping through the forest faster than I really should have. I had almost missed it. One tree shimmered as I passed it. I sailed around back to take a look. Zip's tortured face was pushing through the bark. I held back. It could have been a trick. "Mister K, you gots to fade. 'Sa shiv." "I know it's a trap, kid. Don't worry, I'll spring you." Zip's face started to melt back into bark. Then, a moment later, the whole scene changed. The trees shimmered, and grew huge twisted knots while the overhanging branches drooped downwards with the weight of thick Swamp Moss. I had to yank my feet up from the sides of the board as water from nowhere trickled up to knee depth. The Lizard Swamps. But it was wrong. It had all the pieces of a swamp, but it was put together wrong, like the designer had never been to one before. That confirmed my theory. My enemy knew the Shire, but he'd never been to the Swamps. Heck, I was the only halfling looney enough to join the army. "Rise," I whispered to the skyboard, and it obediently rose a foot or so off the water. Well, now I didn't know where to go. Smeg. A ripple in the water caught my attention. I was glad to see the old relexes were still working, but I really didn't want to see what was under the water. "Scoot," I commanded the board. It started to creep forward. Suddenly, I was yanked off the board and into the water. A scaley arm as flexible as a snake was wrapped around my neck. I struggled with it, but it had me. My first thought was, "it's okay, ghosts can't drown." That first mouthful of swamp water told me otherwise. I was struggling to break free, but a second arm was wrapping around my gut, and starting to squeeze. I started to panic, but the old reflexes came back. Be scared later, when you've got time. I was running out of air. I focused my will, and my trenchcoat grew huge spikes like giant porcupine. Through the foaming swamp-water, I heard a hiss like scream. Good, the snake feels pain. I stuck out with my knife, and stabbed out blindly. Through the muck, I could see the twisted face of Slythe, the reptilian Waster. Yup. MY suspicious were confirmed. I swam for the surface and gasped a sweet breath of air. I looked down in the water, to see Slythe swimming towards me. My skyboard grew a tether, and yanked me out of the water, seconds ahead of Slythe's snapping jaws. I concentrated again, and in my free hand was a lit flask of aqua-fire, this expensive mixture the alchemists rigged up to burn the top of the water. I dropped it on his scaley puss, and shimmied up onto the board. Slythe vanished in a wisp of ectoplasm. "I got your number now, Booger." The whole scene rumbled. Water drained away, while stone columns jutted up out of the ground, knocking aside trees. Instead of a swamp, I was in some kind of wrecked temple. Ahead of me, I saw a big pit, with long cucumber-like trees waving in tune to wind I didn't feel. Part -3- Mommy Dearest Hush, my baby. Baby, don't you cry. Momma's gonna make all of your nightmares come true. Momma's gonna put all of her fears into you. Momma's gonna keep you right here under her wing. She won't let you fly, but she might let you sing. Momma's gonna keep Baby cozy and warm. Oooo Babe. Oooo Babe. Ooo Babe, of course Momma's gonna help build a wall. -Pink Floyd, Mother The tentacles in the pit shiver in their gelatinous base. I looked up, to see a vaulted ceiling glowing a faint green. The walls were covered with disgusting bas reliefs of people and _not_ people doing horrific things to each other. All of it in service to a creature older than Time. I'd seem stuff vaguely like this before. On 'jects from the Buff'. "Cut to the chase, Bogo," I hollered. "This horror show isn't impressing anybody." Well, _I_ wasn't impressed. Scared, yes. Impressed, no. A sick cackle echoed from inside the pit. The "trees" rippled with the laughter. A burbling noise rumbled in the pool of jelly, erupting up a giant head supported on an impossibly thin neck. "Bogo Bilderbom, I presume," I said nonchalantly. "Aw, you guessed. No matter. Game over," said the head. "For you." "Give me a break, Booger." "DON'T CALL ME THAT." screamed the face. Its fetid breath washed over me. I wished up a roll of breath mints and offered him one. "Look, Booger, you're a ghost. I'm a ghost. You got supercharged when Cheyenne Kron died. I got supercharged with she died. All we're going to do is-" "All you're going to do is DIE!" The head vomitted a gout of acid. I conjured up a dome of super-hard glass that deflected the ooze. "It's a stalemate, you dork." I straightened my hat. "We're evenly matched." I hoped we were. I was getting tired and his effects seemed a lot more impressive. I decided that impressive was the way to go. I held my hand up the the air, and gestured like I'd seen 'Raelf do once. A hand the size of the Shire ripped the lid off the temple. The harsh sun beat down on the oozing Bogo-head. I let the glass dome fade, and struck out with a gout of flame from my palm, burning it. The Bogo-head smoked a foul purple smoke, and burning gibblets of ooze dripped from his face. I heard a familiar voice, and saw down in the muck with Bogo's "neck" was Zip. He was trapped below the surface of the ooze. I could hear his muffled cries filtering through the layer of goop. I looked up to see Bogo's burnt face coming down at me, his toothy mouth as large as I was. I transformed my knife into a huge sword with glowing black runes of power carved into the ebony blade, and sliced at the goop. I reached out for Zip's hand while the Bogo-head screamed, and the scene changed for the last time. Part -4- The Last Battle If the puppet head was only busted in It would be a better thing for everyone involved and we wouldn't have to cry --They Might Be Giants:Put Your Hand Inside the Puppet Head Low City. An alleyway that was all too familiar to me. The place where I died the first time. Zip was unconscious, laying on the ground near me. I crouched over him, and shook him. "Zip, wake up." I looked around quickly. No Bogo. I knew it wouldn't last though. "Zip, wake up." Zip's eyes fluttered. "That's it." I helped him to his unsteady feet. "Zip, you're still having a dr-" Zip's groggy eyes met with mine. "You did it. You saved me." He reached out and hugged me. "You saved me." I patted him on the back. "That's right, kid. Now you _have_ to wake up, so we can get out of this nightmare." I pushed him away so I could look at him. "Come on, partner." Zip's eyes sparkled. "You mean it?" I smiled, "Sure thing. Now let's blow this pop stand." Zip scrunched up his forehead in concentration. I could see the walls of the alleyway start to fade. "That's it, kid. You're doing-" Zip looked over my shoulder in shock. I started to turn to look and see, but he shoved me me over. An arrow struck him square in the chest. He looked at it in suprise, and then collapsed. I didn't see him hit the ground, I was spinning to see where the arrow came from. On a nearby rooftop, fading to black, I saw Bogo, standing six feet tall with a longbow in his hands. Later on, I looked back and was glad that I was right about who murdered me. But then, there was only time for rage. I leaped towards him, an avatar of fury striking Bogo dead on in the chest. He tumbled back on the rooftop. I was already back in halfling form, but a savage, bestial parody of one. My hand became a huge sledgehammer and I struck out with it, intending to smash his skull in. He rolled away. My other hand became an immense battle axe and cut deep into the rooftop, blocking him off. Bogo's legs turned into a giant spring and he leaped over me, somersaulting in the air to land on his once-again feet. He glared at me, and daggers shot out of his eyes, determined to turn me into a pincushion. I shrunk down to an inch tall. His hand, a giant flyswatter, swatted down on me. But I was a giant snapping turtle, and it only bounced off my shell. I lumbered towards him, faster than any turtle ever moved. I snapped powerful jaws as I closed in. Bogo's form shifted, growing extra legs and becoming furry. A giant jumping spider leaped over me, landing on my shell. My shell grew red hot with fury, and it jumped off again, trailing silk from its spinnerettes, trapping me in spider-silk. Bogo grew to enormous size, his hands becoming sledgehammers. Webs can't hold a tornado, and I whirled around him, whipping him with winds of outrage. His skin turned to stone, and he smiled at me with glee. I gestured, and weeds grew up around his feet, rapidly covering him. Roots dug into cracks. He changed to fire, to burn off the weeds. I changed to a tidal wave, putting out his flame. [Back in the real world] >"And now, Br'Nai, I banish you to beyond from whence you were created. >You are nothing and will be less than nothing. In the fullness of time >there will not even be any memory of your existence, and it will be as >if you had never been. BEGONE!" > >With that, the sun lanced through the clouds, a single ray striking >the great lizard like the fist of the Powers. The purple scales burst >silently outward and dissolved into sparkling motes of dust. A cry of celestial pain washed over the two of us. Bogo's form dwindled. It was a sound both of had heard before and neither wanted to hear again. The death scream of a goddess. Bogo looked up at me in terror and confusion. I didn't care. I grabbed him in a cage of mental force. "WHY?" I demanded. Bogo gibbered incoherently. I ignored it. My hand became a spear, and stabbed into Bogo's brain. WHY? I only remember parts of it, thank goodness. School again, Bogo was the smallest kid in the class. You'd think halfings wouldn't tease someone for being short. Wrong. I see me telling the other kids to leave him alone. His sister Cassie thanks me for taking care of her LITTLE brother. He hates being protected. I saw me sneaking into the Bilderbom sisters' bedroom. A little boy was watching us, fascinated by what his sisters and I were doing. He watches, his mind seething with lust and jealousy and anger. He watches me walk down the long road out of the Shire. Finally, that overbearing know it all is gone. The images speed up, running into each other. He's caught stealing the Faraway silver at a Wintertide dinner. The talk of the town is how the richest kid in the Shire is stealing. Ashamed, he flees town, swearing vengeance on..... Generica. A bungled attempt to burgle..... This time he gets it right. Yeah, he had to kill a guard. That's life in the big city... Scorpion hires him. Rook, their elven cat burglar claims she doesn't need any help. She never liked him. Ever. That's why she.... Seer promises them power beyond their dreams. Rook claimed she could dream quite a lot. He always hated.... Blocked memories of Seer's ritual. A tendril of chaos plants a seed in his chest. He sees his partners become bug-men, and snake-men, and bird-men.... He looks down on Thrudd and laughs so hard he chokes.... One inch tall, and watching Rook bathe. She must have seen him, otherwise she never would have.... Seven feet tall, and striding down the Dragon's Way like he owned the place. Winning a fight in Trawms pit.... Size _does_ matter.... Doing a hit for Creft, and joy of joys, he gets to kill a Faraway... I see myself die again. In full color slow motion. He was dissappionted. It wasn't as fun as he thought... In the battle with the Great Mother. He sees her pseudopod ready to burst forth acid. He runs for cover. He doesn't see the blond mage and the mageform of the Great Mother throw spells at each other. An echo of chance causes him to stumble, knocking Rook, cackling like a demon, out of the way. Caught in the crossfire, he..... PAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAIN AINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINP INPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPA NPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAI PAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAIN AINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINP INPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPA NPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAI Curled up in a fetal ball (nonononono).... Afraid to move (SHE'LL SEE ME).... A hobbit in black offers her hand (NONONONO, CAN'T MOVE SHE'LL FIND ME) A purple figure feeds him with the energy of a dead gnome (CONFUSION) (YOU'LL PROTECT ME, WON'T YOU?) OF COURSE I WILL, BUT FIRST, THERE'S A LITTLE JOB I WANT YOU TO DO... (PLEASE) In the body of a Low City Merchant, he jumps off a rooftop.... (TAKE) ...slits his own throat.... (ME) ....drinks poison.... (AWAY) ...runs in front of a runaway wagon.... (FROM) ...smashes his head in with a hammer... (ALL) ...pours oil on himself, and lights a match.... (THIS) ...jumps into the Ceru, lead weights in his pockets... ******* *DEATH* ******* Is that all you want, Bogo? please(helpme)please(nomore)please All right. Show me your heart. I see a pulsating heart of energy at the center of a black spiderweb. The stands part for me as I reach for the core. I pull one thread, and the web slowly falls apart, like a dandelion in the breeze. (Thank you.....) I looked around. It was all grey, fading to black. Except in one spot. A tunnel of light broke the plain nothingness. I saw two forms retreating. In an instant I was at their side. Zip, looking at me curiously, was escorted by a female hobbit in black. "No, he can't go," I told her. "That's not for you to decide," she answered. "Well, who does decide?" I fiddled with my hat. "I'll talk to them." "He does." She cocked her thumb over her shoulder. Where there had been nothing before, a cloaked man holding a book was standing. I stomped over to him. "So this is all your game, eh?" The cloaked man remained silent. "He doesn't talk much," interjected the woman. "Why does Zip have to die?" I demanded. The figure shrugged. "Well, couldn't he be a ghost, like me?" He shook his head. "Come on. All that fighting. All that death. It's *not* fair." A tired looking woman cautiously walked down from the light. "Zirrel?" "MOM!" shouted Zip, and ran up to her. They hugged each other tightly. "Oh, my boy, I missed you so," said the woman, unashamedly crying with joy. "I'm so sorry I had to go." "I missed you too." Zip held his mother tightly. "I get the picture," I muttered. The cloaked figure snapped closed his book, and disappeared in a musty fog. The woman in black started shepherding Zip and his mother into the light. I started walking away. "Wait Krupp," called Zip. He ducked away from his mother's grasp, and ran over to me. "Thank you. For everything." "Yeah, yeah. Gowan, getoutahere." I hugged him one last time, and then gently pushed him back. "Your mother needs you." I called out to the woman, "Take good care of my partner here." She smiled, nodded, and held out her hand. Zip walked over to her and took her hand. Together, they walked into the light. It was a real bright light. Made my eyes water. Would you know my name if I saw you in heaven? Would you feel the same if I saw you in heaven? I must be strong and carry on 'cause I know I don't belong here in heaven... -Eric Clapton, Tears in Heaven Epilogue: "...and Zip went on to Specifica, where he eventually married the beautiful Princess Arielle. The End." Krupp leaned back in his chair and looked out at the rapt attention on the faces around him. A few of the faces were yawning, trying desperately to Stay Awake For Another Story. Krupp looked at his wrist, a gesture he'd picked up from 'Raelf. "Well kids, time for bed." Cries of "No" and "I'm not tired" and "Tell us another one, Uncle Krupp" assaulted his ears. A stern looking woman poked her head in the bedroom. "No, that's it, kids. Time for bed." Protesting, the kids climbed in bed. Krupp gestured, and their covers flipped up, tucking them in. Krupp followed the tall woman out the door. "G'night, you little boogers." The children giggled and pulled the covers over them tightly. "'Uncle Krupp,' eh?" asked the woman. "Hey, be nice 'Little Rat'," taunted Krupp back. The woman smiled and ran her hands through her greying hair. "Now that's a name I haven't heard in a quite a while." "Well, we can't always be 'Madame Mayor.' Nice to see you at the Shelter." The pair walked away from the childrens dormatories to Krupp's 'bedroom.' "How's the Council?" "You have to ask?" she groaned. "I never should have quit adventuring." The two of them plopped down on a couch and watched the night sky. "Wasn't that story a bit rough?" "They wanted to know why I run the Shelter. Besides, kids love ghost stories." Krupp grinned. "You should know." The woman smiled, "Yes, 'Uncle Krupp.'" She looked out at the city. "Kron Park's getting bigger." "Yup. Kids are going out there next week. He probably thinks the nippers are going to burn it down or something." "So, Master Storyteller," she teased. "Tell me a story." Krupp sighed. "Isn't it past your bedtime?" "Nope, nope, nope. Story!" For an instant, Krupp saw the little girl in the grown woman. "And not one of your adventures, I've already heard all of them. Surely you know one that's not about you." "Okay." Once upon a time, there was boat that sailed through the stars.... [ADMIN: Here ends the "Ghost and the Machine" thread. Stay tuned for The Voyages of the Astral Dancer or "AD". Krupp Faraway is still around, and will appear again, soon as I think of something for him to do. Thanks to Steve and Penny Hutchison, Li, Dreamer and anyone else who helped, kibbitzed, or generally prodded me onwards.] copyright 1993 by Rick Jones. All rights reserved, all wrongs revenged. -- Rick Jones "Love is like a snowmobile rushing across the albert@bcm.tmc.edu tundra and then suddenly it flips over Systems Support Center pinning you underneath. At night the Voice: 713-798-7352 the Ice Weasels come." -- "Love is Hell"