Book 3: Sound And Fury

  Ch 8 Thank You, For Lettin’ Me Be Mice Elf

  In the basement workshop of a sturdy little stone built-house between the river, the mountains and a wide spreading ke, just across a rough timber bridge from a prosperous little mountain town, Hermit waited.

  “The others will be right down, uncle! I’m going to the party!” Mariah gasped, almost too swiftly to be understood.

  His fluttering, fming guide zipped away, darting through the rafters and up the stairs into the living space in a fsh of smoke and embers. Her drifting, butterfly flight pattern abandoned, now that her mission had been completed.

  “Ivy made super spicy chili-pepper rock candy! Can’t miss out on that!”

  He hopped and skittered anxiously in the cool, quiet darkness… alone. Only a single dim ntern glowed in the corner near the stairs, casting long, still shadows all around. As silence descended on the dim, basement workshop, he amused himself by perusing the tools and items scattered around. Without hands, most ‘hand tools’ were completely inaccessible…

  The gigantic spider entity switched on the sanding station with a hairy forelimb, out of idle curiosity and nearly lept out of his carapace at the shrill, mechanical whir.

  Objectively, the machine was pretty quiet, for a complex system of belts, pulleys and idlers, attached to an eldritch, magical motor of some kind. The high pitched cry of the engine and belts, combined with the monotonous sustain of the noise sent his nervous system into spastic and shuddering agony. He swatted the power switch and gasped, as silence fell again.

  “Yes, brother… you will be unable to use, or even tolerate these machines and tools.” Ghnash muttered crossly, from a patch of deep shadows at the top of the stairs.

  “I am also unable to use most of them.” He sighed sadly as his silhouette gazed at the woodworking tools scattered around. “Neither of our races have unlocked the use of metal tools or all of the seven simple machines.”

  “Stupid Akashic Record…” Hermit grumbled in a slow and angry shuffle step.

  “Yeah, I hate being locked out of advanced tool use and metal craft.” Ghnash Whar’rgh, the goblin king grumbled irritably at his arachnid brother, as he stepped down into the dim light of the workshop. “That’s a problem for another day. For now, we have a big big meeting of the family tomorrow… You should eat and rest, since the humans are going to be awake most of the night.”

  “Eat? I’m really hungry, Ghnash…” Hermit mumbled, suddenly remembering the empty feeling inside himself. “There’s not much in this valley… There was one juicy dragonfly…” A single drop of silvery venom dripped from his mandibles at the memory of that sweet, jewel toned morsel.

  “Uh… Sorry, Ghnash.” He mumbled, eying the small, smoking divot in one of the fgstones of the floor, where his venom had dissolved a shallow hole in the smooth ste.

  “Wilf will forgive you; he is a good good boy, for a human.” The small, hidden figure mumbled happily. The hidden goblin tossed a furry, goat horned primate out onto the floor, where it nded with a meaty thud and y still. “Fresh mongoat, brother! My Daisybelle strangled it on Ace’s world just for you! Keeps it nice and juicy!”

  “A mongoat? How? Wait, how are you even here?” Hermit demanded, halfway through the process of cocooning the wretchedly delicious little monster. “How did you actually manage to leave your realm?”

  “I found him, brother… I’ve found the Fool!” The goblin man crowed happily. “And changes are coming.”

  As he spoke, Ghnash stepped out into the wan and pale light of the single mp. In height, he barely came to the giant spider’s knees, his muscur body, green tinged skin and long, messy dark hair were familiar, but his face…

  Ghnash’s lips no longer showed the long, ragged and bleeding sshes his sharp fangs usually ripped in them.

  Likewise, his warty, long and oft broken nose was much smaller and less obtrusive, while still remaining pinly goblinoid. Somehow the goblin was… handsome.

  “Ghnash has found that breaker of curses and crafter of wonders, brother.” The goblin remarked with smug satisfaction on his even, chiseled features. “And so much more besides…”

  “Really?” Hermit demanded, eyeing his transfigured brother with awe and astonishment.

  “Really.” The green man answered succinctly, cutting off all doubts and second guesses as swiftly as an obsidian bde. “I have not told Necro, nor the friends I have found here of our mission. We should be circumspect and handle this with delicacy.”

  “You’re sure…?” Hermit asked softly, ignoring the frustrated huff his brother delivered at the question.

  “I’ve found the Fool, brother. He’s in this house. It is certain.” Ghnash grunted eagerly, his arms spread wide for a hug. “Now bring it in, Jumpy.”

  The spider and the goblin embraced on the shadowed workshop floor, among the tools neither could really touch or utilize, bouncing and hopping together in childlike glee.

  /

  Night was just falling, bringing Goblin Town to life, deep in the forest. The busy throng of people parted instinctively, as the tall, gaunt and pale human in close fitting bck clothes strolled up to the king’s castle, above town and knocked on the door.

  “It’s time, come along.” He called into the foyer, as he entered a moment ter.

  His four brothers appeared within a few seconds, emerging from the king’s workshop below the main floor. Five men of identical height donned dark, hooded cloaks in the entrance, concealing five variations of the same face.

  Each visage was stamped with scars, cares, time and weather in different ways, but still pinly pressed from the same mold. Their bodies were likewise simir, thicker, thinner, more or less muscur, yet the simirities were too obvious to miss.

  “L-lord Necromancer…” A small, soft, feminine voice called out from the main room. “May I ask a boon…”

  Soon, five tall, cloaked figures and one much shorter form walked up the long trail to the high and forbidding pteau above the forested valley floor. There, among the ruined and overgrown streets of a long forgotten necropolis, the Necromancer led them down into the gaping maw of a mostly colpsed mausoleum, its partially fallen roof still sheltered a broken marble doorway, the stone portals split and lying on either side of the entry into the stygian darkness below. The rupture portal in the floor led to a long flight of stairs, descending into a vast ossuary complex, filled to bursting with human and humanoid bones.

  “Hold close to me and Sabrina, please keep your eyes tightly closed for the entire trip. We shall be traveling through pces where the living are rgely unwelcome and you might see things that will distress you.” He whispered to the slim goblin woman who held his hand in a terrified grip. “With me, you are perfectly safe.”

  The men and their frightened, but determined guest all leapt together into a crack in the stone floor that had been filled to the brim with a mad jumble of loose bones and skulls. They plunged in, vanishing among the mortal remains as if diving into still waters, leaving only a brief and faint ripple in the endless river of bones.

  /

  Fireworks shattered the stillness of early evening, raining smoke, sparkling lights and thunder down on the formerly quiet town, as music swelled in the wide parknd between the inn and the town proper.

  Most of the festivities took pce there, across the bridge from the inn and compound of strangers that had sprouted up and then just as mysteriously vanished and reappeared again, over the st few weeks.

  The long tables of food and drink, the music and festivities in the park flowed from the castle gates, borne by the count’s servants, who executed their duties, then joined the throng of celebrants, presided over by the golden gaze of dy Tawny and her husband, count Liam Kinnis. The people cheerfully indulged, celebrating the return of the young lord and the news of his successful mission.

  Most of the food and drink came from the suspicious inn, summoned to the castle rders and pantries by the count; through his mysterious connection to the compound across the river. That connection remained a well guarded secret… Many of the locals still viewed the pce and its odd and quirky residents with suspicion… And even a little fear, though they were coming around slowly.

  “You should go join the Wards…” Tawny murmured in Liam’s ear, while their people swirled and danced in the park, buoyed by the music thundering from the inn. “I can’t cross the bridge. Lady Dana still refuses to let any of her worshippers enter his house… but you can.”

  “Shush, darling. I’ll be celebrating with my wife tonight…” He whispered back, while taking a nibble of her throat. “And we will see what can be done to include you tomorrow.”

  With that, he took her hand and dragged his wife onto the short cropped wn that was serving as a dance floor for the evening’s revels.

  The music, dancing, fireworks and celebrations carried on until long after the moons sailed into the heavens, casting their shared radiance over a town that was slowly winding down into a pleasantly exhausted state.

  Unseen by the raucous celebrants, several shadowy forms slipped down the long road from the pteau above the castle, a small knot of sly and sneaking beings, dressed in dark clothing and slinking in the shadows.

  At the edge of the party, the group paused, concealed among the trees, as one member peeled away.

  “Don’t wait for me… I’m just gonna slip out and check the party. For security reasons…”

  The Star lied poorly and often, telling obvious fibs with devilish and carefree confidence. Somehow that worked for him, allowing him to conceal the truth behind fabutions and fabrications that were too patently false to be taken seriously. In an instant, the man shucked his drab cloak and hood, before strolling off into the crowd and vanishing.

  The tall, handsome and muscur man dressed in a long coat of billowing scarlet and a ruffled shirt of snowy white silk disappeared among the drab clothed citizens without creating a rustle or a stir of any kind. The crowd of roughspun and homey folks swallowed him up entirely, as though he were a local boy, whose presence was expected.

  “And there he goes…” Wheel of Fortune muttered in tones of overblown grief and woe, as he passed Judgment a single iron bit.

  “It was a foolish wager. I only agreed, in order to make the lesson pin to you.” The dour faced man grumbled darkly, as he pressed the small coin back into his cheerfully smiling brother’s hand. “Gambling is not something I am comfortable with.” He grumbled at his silly brother.

  “Take a chance now and then, Judgie. It feels good, even if it turns out to be a losing bet.” Wheel urged the man, as his quick, nimble hands deftly stole away Judgement’s cloak. Wheel danced away with the enshrouding, drab garment and slipped it out of sight with a twist of his hands.

  “Wheel! We are supposed to remain inconspicuous!” Judgment whispered at his gadfly brother. The drab, homespun clothing revealed by the cheerful man’s antics made the scowling man’s pin gray cloak and hood seem extravagant in comparison.

  “I always hate sneaking about!” With that, Wheel of Fortune doffed his own concealing cloak, revealing his patchwork motley. Wheel wore billowing robes of extravagant colors and wild patterns, stitched expertly from swatches gleaned from every world he’d traveled. “I’ll be there ter, I need to check the… uh… Keep an eye on Star… Yeah, that’s it!”

  A deck of oversized tarot cards flew in a stream of fast moving pasteboard from one hand to the other as he walked into the steadily growing festival.

  “Maybe I’ll do a few readings… for serious reasons…” He continued bthering excuses, even as he vanished in the throng, following the man in red.

  “They’ll be fine…” Necro scolded Judgement, he still held the hand of the smallest figure in the group, as they strolled toward the rough hewn bridge leading to the inn compound.

  “Come along, they can take care of themselves, we should make our presence known at least… and settle our guest at the inn.”

  Three figures, two tall and one small, slipped across the bridge and disappeared into the inn, unnoticed amidst the chaos, darkness and fshing fireworks in the sky above the ke.

  /

  Three cloaked figures stepped into the foyer of the inn beside the ke, drawing every eye in the common room, kitchen and open patio in an instant.

  “Oh… shit…” Becky muttered in amazement, as two Garies and a slim, beautiful goblin woman stepped into fluffy bunny slippers and looked into the crowd, seeking any familiar faces.

  “You really look just like him… but not at all!” Becky stammered awkwardly, as two vastly different versions of a very familiar face scanned the room. “Amazing…!”

  The lean, pallid, well dressed Gary in bck held up a hand to forestall the stout, unsmiling Gary dressed in drab, if well made clothes of gray.

  “Excuse us, but has anyone seen Ghnash, or any of the other Garies?” The Necromancer asked calmly, his pale and gaunt face tightening into a grinning skull mask in his best attempt at a friendly smile. It was more of a waxen death rictus, or grimace of mortal agony, but he tried.

  “We’d like to check in.”

  Becky waved to the gathered friends and called out loudly: “I’ll handle this…” Despite the deep nervousness dispyed on her usually chipper face.

  “I’m Becky Ward… Gary and Shai are out by the ke with the kids right now, pying with fireworks, but I can take you to Ghnash.”

  “Becky Ward?” Judgment asked sharply.

  “I’m his sister… and you are?” She answered in a slow and very deliberate way.

  “My apologies, high priestess Becky. We met briefly, under difficult circumstances, I am the Necromancer, please, call me Necro. With me are Judgement and her royal highness, dy Sabrina, queen of the goblins.” He gave an elegant, well practiced bow and tried again to smile. “Judgement, sister Becky is the high priestess of the local god of Knowledge…”

  That perked the unsmiling and stern Gary right up, almost bringing the faded and dismal ghost of a long forgotten smile to his face. “High priestess Becky, I am pleased to meet you.” The drab cd Gary announced in a voice far deeper and less musical than her brother’s.

  “Sorry, Judgment is really impressed by titles and such…” Necro muttered quietly, as if his companions couldn’t hear. “I should have had you meet him in those impressive robes you wore in battle.”

  Becky curtseyed at the three, dipping her fmboyant, fme colored skirts at them with a radiant smile. When she arose, her gaze was fixed on the nervous looking goblin woman wearing a crown of braided bckthorn twigs, ornamented with small gems and mother of pearl.

  “Your majesty, my apologies as well. All of the Garies seem to struggle with the social niceties.”

  She took the woman’s slim, green hand in hers of dusky brown and bowed again, gently drawing the goblin queen into a sisterly embrace. “Be welcome in our home, dy Sabrina.”

  The slender, buxom goblin woman almost sagged against Becky, once she was wrapped in her arms. “So many giants… all around.” Sabrina whispered, in the embrace of a woman only slightly taller than herself.

  “I know, honey… they are all awfully huge, aren’t they? Ghnash is such a breath of fresh air!” Becky commiserated, as Ivy rushed over to join the vertically challenged embrace.

  /

  Out by the shore, Amy paused her firestarter spell, a moment before touching off her st mortar of the evening. “I feel like I’m missing out on something…” She muttered crossly, before finishing her cantrip and firing a ball of alchemical… stuff into the sky above the ke in a rush of smoke and fmes.

  /

  The small dusky priestess led the suddenly compliant Judgment and his two companions out into the garden, and across a long stone footpath to a smaller inn on the utter point of the little peninsu the compound stood on, jutting between the ke and river mouth.

  High above them, a tremendous explosion detonated; showering sparks, glowing smoke and fming illusory moths across the night sky.

  “Oh! Pretty!” Sabrina gasped, breathless and stunned by the spectacle and excitement, she hugged closer to Becky and gazed up at the sparkling, radiant dispy of arcane spells, alchemical pyrotechnics and magical fuckery. Another barrage of smaller explosions rang out over the ke, as more and more of the colorful, fming miracles blossomed in the still, warm night. “What sorceries are these, sister Becky?”

  “My Gary is teaching Ghnash how to make those fireworks, Sabbie.” Becky whispered into the queen’s long, pointed ear. “It’s a secret family recipe.”

  In a few moments, Becky had the three following her to a structure on the compound, alone on a quiet point surrounded by water on three sides. The smaller inn was much like the main building, reduced in scale and less ostentatiously decorated. Inside, they found a simir foyer and arrangement and a far stranger group in the common room.

  A giant spider, a goblin and a blue, man sized, faceless puppet were seated around the firepce, pying an old song from another world. The Archies surely wouldn’t mind…

  Sugar, sugar,

  Oh, honey, honey…

  You are my candy girl

  And you got me wanting you!

  At her first glimpse of the handsome green man leading the trio on one of Gary’s odd, primitive, bone fretted and wooden peg tuned guitars. Sabrina broke from the group and hurled herself into the goblin king’s p with a joyful squeal of delight. He barely had time to vanish his instrument, lest it be damaged by the flying goblin dy.

  “Hey!” Becky called, as he entered the house. “I told you Shai’s rules!”

  Ghnash jumped in his seat, nearly dislodging his clingy wife. He gnced around looking spooked and a little nervous, suddenly. His dark, keen eyes scanned the room, searching for the viotion of the house rules and found no obvious problems. He turned back and shrugged at his accuser. “Nub gruk!” He grunted in a refined Upnd Gobbo accent.

  She fixed her gre on the trio and their instruments, shaking her head in cold judgement. “I warned you. No shenanigans tonight!”

  “Nub nub, just an old song, stolen from a band that never really existed, even on our world.” Ghnash stammered, waving his hands in denial. “See? All mundane and safe!”

  “Really?” She snapped harshly. “Hermit, you’re new here and we’ve not been properly introduced…” She took a deep, calming breath. “If you don’t put that enchanted harp away this instant…”

  At her accusation, the horse-sized spider dropped its instrument of bones, spider-silk, hide and sinew to the rug with a dry rustle of carapace and fur. A moment ter he reached out in instinct to pick it back up and halted halfway there.

  “Hermit can’t speak human sounds without his haunted lyre…” Ghnash expined weakly, with Sabrina csped close to his torso like a sexy green mprey. “He also can’t manipute or py other instruments, for the same reason Daisybelle and I can’t use metal knives and I can’t py most of the instruments in this house…” He produced his borrowed guitar from his tautly rounded, goblin backside and held it up, dispying its ck of metal parts and primitive, natural materials.

  “Oh, I see…” The priestess muttered sourly, still gring at the colossal spider; who had backed halfway up the wall and was trying to hide among the rafters and beams.

  “Come down Hermit, I understand, now.” She said softly, after a moment.

  “I also speak spider, as do many of our residents, so be at ease. I will expin the issue to your hosts, feel free to use your voice in this home…”

  She fixed one of her eyes on his eight and stared deeply into his soul. “Please do not attempt any influence charms, or spells of suggestion in this house. Mental manipution spells are forbidden here.”

  The gigantic white arachnid shivered in its colorfully tufted carapace and bowed deeply. “I will eschew all such magics in your house, dy Becky.” He danced in a subtle softshoe and a little electric slide.

  “Splendid! Tonight, I’m afraid we have many people on the grounds who are… uninitiated.” Becky smiled sadly at the small gathering of exotic beings. “We would prefer to not have a panic break out, so I must ask you all to… Refrain from revealing your presence.” She blushed a deep purple and shifted in her sandals uncomfortably. “I really hate to ask.”

  “We will remain here… We have much to discuss and some of us have never met in person before.” Hermit whispered, through his odd and macabre lyre of animal parts and silken threads.

  “Thank you! We, the Ward cn will make this outrageous imposition and frightfully rude breach of hospitality up to you.” She announced, before turning her attention back to the others.

  “As for you gentlemen… Necro and Judgement, please feel free to roam the house, grounds and town… Enjoy the feast; though I must ask that you refrain from causing any disturbances.” Becky’s gnce was firm and a little sharp edged, until the pair nodded together, as if one Will moved both men.

  “We will remain here. I sense one of us inside that blue doll body… The Lovers, perhaps?” Necro murmured warmly at the nky blue creature built of haunted plum wood and monster based cquer.

  “Call me Ace.” The faceless puppet demanded, in his slightly mechanical sounding voice.

  She nodded in satisfaction, when the two absurdly simir beings she’d led inside selected instruments from Wilf’s collection and joined the jam sesh. “Be good, Garies… don’t do anything occult.” The priestess warned, as she departed.

  “What an unusual human…” Hermit muttered in amazement at the force of nature that had just swept out of the little inn by the waterside.

  /

  “Joy’s mask… I win again, boys!” Wheel announced with glee, as he scooped the small pile of iron coins and wooden tokens to himself with a giggle. The two cubes of carved monster bone showed a single bck pip on each face, a winning throw in the game that the locals just called ‘dice’.

  Wheel had learnt the rules and mastered the game in about six seconds… Then he began cheating in the most improbable and dramatic ways; winning and losing heaps of the local currency and barter tokens with stunning regurity.

  He would scrape the local gamblers for every shaved bit they had, in a few quick and wildly exciting throws, then lose the horde again on another quick run of ‘terrible luck’.

  Wheel was still giggling over his harmless flim-fm, as his new gambling buddies drifted away, each one convinced that he’d fleeced the new guy thoroughly.

  None of the grinning, ughing gamblers realized until ter, that each of them had departed the game with almost the exact amount of coin and tokens they’d joined with.

  “That’s enough, Wheel. Time to check in at your hotel.” A familiar, unfamiliar voice spoke from the shadows of a fig tree, one of several in the square.

  “I’m reluctant to obey mysterious voices from the darkness… even if we are reted.” He answered calmly, as he produced a short wand of polished bone, ivory and silver from his robes. A single spark of darkly violet energy gleamed at the tip of his wand, shimmering wetly in the moonlight. “Step into the light, brother.”

  The cheerful, slightly stout and smiling man in colorful robes became in an instant, a wary and dangerous foe.

  “Careful, brother… A spell like that could do real harm, if wielded carelessly.” The tall, bck cd and absurdly handsome version of his own face and form that stepped from the concealing darkness did little to rex the man holding a slowly sparking wand.

  “All the more reason to leave me to my own affairs…” He answered glibly.

  In a fsh too swift to be seen with mortal eyes, the bck cd man had his twin snatched up by the colr of his fancy robes and the wand neatly tucked away.

  “Your invitation presupposes that you will check in, once you arrive. Instead, I find that two of you are loose in this little town…” Ward sighed gustily at the man in his grasp. “I am such a troublesome rascal, aren’t I?” He mused. “Once I have you tucked in, if you all behave, I might cooperate and answer a few questions.”

  The bck cd man swept his bck leather coat over them both and vanished back into the shadows, whence he’d come.

  /

  Just outside Wilf’s front door, the high priestess was having a minor fit of the ookies.

  “Oh, sweet Marduk…” Becky gasped, rubbing wildly at the gooseflesh stippling every inch of her skin. “That was awful!”

  “You were very brave, my love.” Kermal muttered into her tightly braided pit, as he hugged her up from behind. “I think you should go py with Gary and the kids… I’ll stay with our new friends.”

  “Those fellows don’t need a babysitter. You can both go enjoy the evening.” Ward said softly, as he slipped from the shadows, tugging along an embarrassed looking Gary in eborate and fanciful robes.

  The fellow was dressed in motley, patchwork, billowing drapes that dispyed the weavers’, dyers’ and tailors’ arts in every way imaginable. Embroidery, printing, needlecraft and weaving methods from hundreds of worlds, dimensions and cultures swam across the man’s absurd, yet elegant attire.

  He shook off Ward’s grip and bowed low to the young couple that the two odd men were towering over. “I am the Wheel of Fortune, may the spirits bless our meeting, despite the circumstances….” He intoned.

  “This fellow has been manhandling me pretty abominably for a few minutes now, and hasn’t even the simple courtesy to make introductions properly.”

  “Now, brother, you know very well who I am; so stop being a pest.” Ward scolded his captured Gary firmly and took him by the colr once more.

  “Yes, senpai Ward…” The man compined feebly, while ‘attempting to escape’ in the most obviously unserious ways. He wound up putting on a dispy of comic pratfalls and sarcastic facial expressions that brought a giggle to Becky’s lips.

  The captured Gary grinned foolishly and shrugged inside his silly robes and nodded. “I know who you are, I just don’t know what you are, brother.” He remarked to his captor.

  Ward tightened his hand in the Gary’s robes and gave him a small shake. “I told you, we’re going to expin it all once… One time only!” He gred up at the moons high above and muttered something inaudible.

  “Inside and stay put. A bunch of us are already inside, you’ll meet the rest tomorrow.”

  Ward aimed his captive at the smiling pair on Wilf’s doorstep and forced the man to bow with a firm hand on his colr.

  “Becky Ward and Kermal Singh, high priestess of the local god of Knowledge, and her husband, the knight champion of a local duke. They’re family, so no funny business.” Ward shook his unresisting prisoner a little and grinned down at the two normal sized humans the way tall folks do.

  “This is Wheel of Fortune, he’s pretty harmless, now that he understands his situation… Right?”

  “Yes, sir!” Wheel announced eagerly, while smacking himself audibly in the forehead during a very vigorous and clumsy attempt to salute the man in bck.

  Becky erupted into a full throated ugh, while the smack of the silly man’s hand against his own brow was still softly echoing off the ke. “Oh gods above and below…” She gasped, hanging in her confused husband’s arms helplessly, as mirth took her legs from beneath her. “The old Fred Scuttles salute…” She sputtered, which left her husband completely unenlightened.

  “Yes dear…” Kermal replied bndly.

  “Benny Hill…” She gasped helplessly. “Gary did the same thing the first day I met him…” She sobbed and giggled helplessly for a little longer, held up by her bemused mate. “It’s a cssic burlesque comedy bit… old school vaudeville… Nice one, Wheel.” She sighed, when the fit passed from her. “Come on Kermie, let’s go to bed. I’m done for the night.”

  Without another word, the young couple vanished into the garden headed for a violet and purple gingerbread, victorian fantasy standing over by the bridge.

  Becky closed the door behind them and sank to a bench in her foyer with an exhausted gasp, finally secure inside her own home, conjured from her mad brother’s gifts as much as her own.

  “Tomorrow is gonna be wild.” She sighed softly into Kermal’s warm shoulder, as he carried her upstairs.