Barsoom Tales I - COMPLETE

xrpsuzi · Oct 19, 2003

And the saga begins again.... True to your word-dancing girls!
To get the compete Dead in a Box, just go to the sticky post at the top of the story hour boards (the one called new method) and it has Barsoomcore listed as one of the favorites.

Incidentally, I know how the girls feel. When I was 16 my mom insisted that we go for mother/daughter glamour shots together..... I couldn't feel my real skin underneath the makeup and let's just say it was the only time I could have sported a Dallas Cheeleader uniform without my father's disapproval.

-suzi

barsoomcore · Oct 19, 2003

suzi yee said:
And the saga begins again.... True to your word-dancing girls!
To get the compete Dead in a Box, just go to the sticky post at the top of the story hour boards (the one called new method) and it has Barsoomcore listed as one of the favorites.

Incidentally, I know how the girls feel. When I was 16 my mom insisted that we go for mother/daughter glamour shots together..... I couldn't feel my real skin underneath the makeup and let's just say it was the only time I could have sported a Dallas Cheeleader uniform without my father's disapproval.

-suzi

...

...

*absolutely refuses to comment on fathers approving of daughters dressing as Dallas cheerleaders*

...

barsoomcore · Oct 22, 2003

Bayonne Opera Blues -- Part Two -- Too Many Cooks

The deep basso moaning of the parasaurs had become a constant in Philip's life. He looked to his right, upstream, at the unruffled surface of the Bayonne river rushing towards him. Autumn sunlight dappled off ripples and played at blinding him as the water swept under the bridge and out the other side, swinging in a wide curve around the wall of the city.

Bayonne. Home of Percival de Beliard, mercenary captain and former Marshal now calling himself King. And apparently in cahoots with the del Orofin Familia of Saijadan. The family Philip had sworn to destroy.

He slapped the reins and clucked to the big dinosaurs as the wagons ahead moved forward. Guards were checking every wagon, and traffic had backed up on the bridge. With a quick look around, Philip raised a hand a slipped the eyepatch off his face, revealing two perfectly normal brown eyes. He grimaced and hoped none of his companions would come out. Awkward questions he preferred to avoid.

There was probably a del Orofin in the city right now. Maybe even somebody important. Philip knew next to nothing about the organization of the Familia, only that they had orchestrated the destruction of everything he had ever loved. Just thinking about them, laden with power and wealth, pulling at their strings and crushing innocent people, made him angry enough to scowl.

His scowl deepened as he thought of his last run-in with the del Orofins. That sneaky, deceitful cow Collette de Maynard back in Fort Burnoll, who'd manipulated him into a duel and then arranged for his arrest. She'd made fools of them all. He scowled still more blackly.

A young fruit seller going past caught the edge of Philip's scowl and decided not to approach the burly Saijadani. He hurried to the wagons behind, calling up to the drovers and displaying skewer of melon slices.

*****

Elena could make out the voice of a fruit seller calling from outside the wagon. Her throat tightened, dry and tired from the stuffiness inside the portable stage/dressing room they all sat in, crammed together, the dancers still giggling over Arrafin and Elena's transformations.

One of the girls had attached herself to Arrafin's side and plied the university student with questions about life at school and classes and books. Questions that came right back to her, as Arrafin seemed as fascinated with the rootless life of an itinerant performer as said performer seemed about the sheltered life of a university student.

"I can read."

The dancer's name was Bel. She raised her delicate chin slightly as she announced her skill, obviously proud but also intimidated by the great intellect sitting next to her.

The great intellect widened her eyes and shook her fluffy halo of unruly curls.

"Wow. I mean, that's great. I guess... Great. You can read. Me too."

Arrafin smiled.

Elena stifled a chuckle, then sighed as she shifted position yet again, bumping against Hinsuan legs to all sides of her. Costumes hung amongst them, swaying with every motion of the wagon. Outside, parasaur bellows sounded like slow-motion waves crashing against some distant shore.

"You walk the path of the mother."

Since last night, Elena had pondered these words of Kalibar's. She hadn't had a chance to talk to the old fellow yet, and curiousity consumed her. She thought back to her home, to that bizarre, horrible day when everything changed.

The road was just as she remembered. Elena strode easily along the elderly cobblestones, following the curve around the trike paddock. The big horned creatures called out to one another, croaking rumbling cries that echoed each other with oddly comforting repetition. She grinned, repressing both excitement and concern. Surely Daniel would know that she would return in time? He would understand that she'd just needed some time to herself, to think about things apart from their families.

He'd be waiting for her.

She grinned again. He'd better be.

Daniel's family had situated the villa near the same creek that wound through the de los Santos farm. Willows overhung the banks, trailing green fingers in the murky, slow-moving water. The villa, Elena could see as she came down the birch-lined road, had been festooned with banners. With a frown, Elena counted sigils of at least four of Las Familias, indicating their official blessing on today's event.

Elena quickened her pace. Normally such displays were reserved for important occasions, like funerals or weddings. But there wouldn't be a wedding here. Not today.

She was running as she came around the courtyard gate but stopped dead at the sight there.

Daniel looked tremendously handsome. The formal suit, black and red and silver, fit him perfectly and with his hair coiffed like that he was a far cry from the grubby boy Elena had known all her life. She smiled in spite of herself at the sight. Her wedding day.

It was what stood next to him that froze Elena's smile in place, that sent her reeling back from the scene before anyone noticed her.

It WAS her wedding day. There she was. Standing up next to Daniel.

Elena shook her head violently, trying to tell herself this was a dream.

It wasn't. Elena stared at the other woman. Herself. Certainly her. The faint scar across her left cheek. The stance, the hair. Even painted and done up and wearing the dress her mother had made, it was her. Standing there.

Elena's heaving cries did not disturb the willows at all as she ran. The dinosaurs in the paddock never stopped their braying as she passed, back out along the old road, into confusion and darkness.

She could never go home again. They'd replaced her.

Elena returned to her present situation as the wagon started forward with a jolt, startling her out her near-drowse. She scowled and rubbed moodily at the rouge on her lips, causing one of the girls to squawk in alarm and descend on her, brush at the ready.

*****

Nevid clutched at the reins and tried to look like he knew what he was doing as the big dinosaurs began plodding forward. Philip had assured him that the second wagon's beasts would just follow the first wagon's, and to his great relief, that seemed to be true. He held the reins limply, trying not to stare around him too much.

The Gap was vastly different from Saijadan. Nevid felt a very long way from home. The great cities of Saijadan -- Cadencia, Mataleo, Burnoll -- were home to well-dressed, swaggering bravos with keen wits and keener rapiers. Countless factions schemed and brewed plots in the baroque architecture or among sunny gardens. Bayonne seemed like a muddy border town by comparision, where the warriors carried massive battle blades and wore half-finished furs over great swathes of plate metal. It seemed like he had gone backward in time to some savage epoch of ancient tales.

The bridge was packed with wagons, dinosaurs, soldiers, merchants, beggars, a furious whirlwind of sound roiling all about the young man. He looked forward at the gate, a purely functional structure of rough granite, towering above all the traffic like some patient monster lying still as food poured willingly down its throat.

Nevid shook his head. This was still Family business, and Family business was what he was trained to handle. Somewhere in this city some scheming del Orofin minions were trying to pull off an international tax scam at the expense of the people of the Gap and Saijadan, and at the risk of destabilizing this whole area, making it vulnerable to Kishak armies. Contracts, negotiations and legal obfuscation. Nevid grinned.

This was his idea of adventure.

Desdichado · Oct 30, 2003

Just got all caught up (again.) Great stuff, as always!

barsoomcore · Nov 4, 2003

Bayonne Opera Blues -- Part Three -- Life, Lemons, Lemonade

The guard looked up at the brawny fellow sitting on the wagon board, floppy hat shading his features from the weak autumn sun.

"Where you from?"

Philip shifted in his seat and tried to look casual.

"Down from Highpass. Dancers, they're performing at the River Inn."

"You been in Bayonne before?"

"Sure."

"Stick the foreigners' section, Saijadani. Don't cause us any trouble. Move along."

Philip yanked at the reins and swore under his breath as the parasaurs heaved forward, hauling the big covered wagons in their wake.

Elena stuck her head up from within the wagon. Philip quickly tugged the eyepatch down over his right eye, turned to look, registered the heavily-made-up face of his friend, and tried not to grin.

He failed. Elena scowled. She crawled out from under the canvas cover, sat next to her companion and spent some time studying their new home.

The streets of Bayonne seethed with a disorderly blur of pedestrians, handcarts, dinosaurs and market stalls. Elena had her usual response to a Gap city -- at first she thought there must be an impending battle, then she recalled that people here always went around dressed in archaic armour and sporting massive swords. The glint of steel plate made the sea of people look like an ocean view, sparkling in the sunshine. Isaac tugged on the reins and guided the parasaurs to the left, past rows of empty pens and away from the high towers near the palace.

The palace. Elena didn't know much about this city but she could certainly distinguish the palace. Far and away the largest structure in the city, it hulked at the far end of the main street like a marble gladiator trying to intimidate all around it. She thought about trying to break into that place and decided she didn't want to.

"Del Maraviez aren't paying us enough for this."

Philip grunted.

"How are we supposed to find this document? And what's to stop them from just writing another? This is stupid."

Philip added a shrug to his grunt. Elena smacked his shoulder and grinned, the rare expression transforming her face.

"You know, you should let somebody else talk for a while. Blab, blab, blab."

They sat in silence, comfortably side-by-side, for the rest of the short ride to the River Home.

*****

As the wagons rolled to a stop, Arrafin was suddenly buffetted by a rush of Hinsuan dancers surging past her out into the fresh air. She spluttered and grabbed at her notes, papers billowing in the air. Nevid caught a few as they whirled out into the inn yard, and handed them back to Arrafin with a stiff smile.

"Thanks, Nevid. I am SO glad that's -- "

She broke off as the young Saijadani turned and walked away from her. The grin on her face held its position as if frozen for a few seconds then faded into confusion. She turned to find Bel, the dancer who'd been talking with her earlier, holding a few more sheets of paper. Putting Nevid's strange behaviour from her mind, Arrafin set about trying to organize her notes all over again, chatting with Bel as the two young women made their way toward the inn door.

*****

The arrival of Nitara's troupe always heralded a busy night in the River Inn, as travelling merchants up from Pavairelle or down from Burnoll, Saijadani mercenaries looking to sign up with the King, Yshakan tradesmen in their buckskins and a few Kishaks here and there, red faces hellish in the lamplight, crowded into the common room, jostling for seats near the front.

The gallery around the room was crowded also, as spectators leaned on the railings and watched the curtain across the stage sway.

Nitara's troupe was well-known for the beauty and grace of its members. Nitara herself had retired from dancing years ago, and sat at the side of the stage waiting for her girls to emerge. Next to her sat her constant companion, the elderly Hinsuan man Kalibar. He, too, watched the stage, oblivious to Elena's stare.

Elena, face scrubbed clean, sat with Arrafin and Philip and Nevid at a trestle table on the main floor, squashed next to a chubby woman who drank her beer with noisy satisfaction. The Saijadani woman kept only half an ear on her friends' conversation as she studied the old man by the stage.

"The path of the mother. The path of the child."

Nevid sat with his back to the stage, watching the crowd.

Philip nudged him.

"Any idea who this contact of ours is supposed to be?"

"No. But I sure hope it isn't Boyce."

"Boyce? That thief we met in Chimney? Nevid, he works for the King, he's not going to help us ruin the King's plans. We're trying to pull the rug out on the King's finances, Boyce is going to kill us if he finds out."

"Then you'd better shut up, because he's coming over to our table."

Elena turned at that, twisted to follow Nevid's gaze, and hurriedly smoothed back her dark hair, brushed at the beer stain on her jerkin and then completely failed to look nonchalant.

Arrafin looked up in delighted surprise as the handsome Gap rogue joined their table.

"Boyce! How are you?"

"Look at you lot! You finally decided to come to the greatest city in all Barsoom, did you?" Boyce grinned and winked down at Arrafin, who immediately blushed. He thumped Philip on the shoulder. "Good to see you, di Guzma. Shove over there and let me sit next to your lovely friend."

Elena smiled politely as Boyce squeezed in between her and Philip.

There was an uncomfortable couple of seconds as nobody spoke. Boyce smiled around at everyone, waiting for some response.

Nevid kept watching the crowd. Philip swirled the beer in his mug and stared at the bubbles. Elena pursed her lips and continued to watch Kalibar, who was doing nothing.

Arrafin smiled brightly.

"You're not here for some sort of secret meeting with enemies of the King, are you?"

Everyone else at the table suddenly seemed struck with respiratory problems as Boyce turned to the thin Naridic girl, a confused expression on his chiseled face.

"What?"

Arrafin's sudden laugh was tinged with hysteria.

"Joke. Ha. Ha. Ooh, look, dancing girls."

She slumped as the men all turned in unison to watch the curtain pull back and lithe young brown-skinned girls leapt onto the stage to roar of general approval.

They really were very good. Arrafin nodded, impressed, as the dancers went through their show. Bel had explained to her how the dances were really stories, like epic plays, and she'd written copious notes as the Hinsuan girl had recited one long, involved tale of familial betrayal and revenge after another. It was hard to pick them out under their elaborate costumes, but Arrafin recognized Bel's lanky stance in the gold-faced swordsman just then twirling about in frantic pirouettes.

Conversation halted as the performance went on, most of the men (and many of the women) in the audience struck silent as if intensely concentrating. When the clashing, herky-jerky music stopped and the girls bowed, there was a second of silence and then a sudden rush of applause.

Boyce leaned back and eyed his friends.

"Now what are you lot up to in the glorious metropolis of Bayonne? Surely you didn't come all this way just to see me?"

He grinned at Elena.

"Or did you?"

Elena rolled her eyes.

"No, Boyce, we're just working with Nitara for a while. A way to travel around a bit, is all."

Boyce studied the others, serious for just a moment. He grinned and leaned forward on the table.

"Well, here you are now, in my very own home town. Drinks are on me, and I won't take "No" for an answer."

barsoomcore · Nov 11, 2003

Bayonne Opera Blues -- Part Four -- Raining and Pouring

Elena spoke first. Her face showed not a trace of humour or friendliness.

"If some no-good Gap pretty-boy thinks he can outdrink a good Saijadani girl, he's in for some serious learning."

Boyce's eyes opened wide and he started frantically signalling for the serving boy to veer past their table.

"Why don't you fill us in on what's going on here, Boyce?"

Isaac drained his own glass and thumped it down on the table with a grin. A jug appeared and refilling took place in a messy sort of way. Boyce looked the group over with his trademark smirk in place.

"Okay, so you know the King has been bringing in mercenaries. No secret. Those goodies we, uh, rescued from Chimney?"

"Stole," muttered Arrafin.

"Rescued, my dear. Anyway, those valuables went to the King -- so he could pay those sword-slingers. You know he's hired the Dark Talon Company, right? Crazy Shaer bastards, no question. Crazier than us, some of them. But they don't come cheap. Nope.

"So I've been in charge of whatyoucallit, fund-raising."

"Fund-raising."

Nevid frowned.

"Why you? No offence, Boyce, but why did the King choose you?"

Boyce's smirk grew and he actually blushed. Which caused Elena to actually smile. The chain reaction was not lost on Arrafin.

"Well that's a long story, my friend, and I'll tell you everything in great detail after I've retired."

"Retired."

"I know, I know, I look young and healthy and handsome and in the prime of my life and my hair's still beautiful and my face is unlined and I don't know how you can stand to be around me I'm so good-looking, but it is true that time eats away at us all and -- "

Elena cut him off just as he was building up a good rhythm.

"Whatever. You're stealing money so the King can pay his mercenaries so he can conquer the rest of the Gap."

Boyce grimaced.

"You make stealing sound so... illegal."

Nevid had not taken his eyes off Boyce since his original question, and he did not do so now as he spoke.

"So you know the King, then?"

"Sure! Course I know him. We're good friends, the King and I."

"Could you introduce us?"

"Love to, of course, ordinarily I would, but he's not in town right now. Dunno when he'll get back."

Boyce's eyes suddenly widened and he grinned manically.

"Hey, why don't I show around the palace? We could head out tomorrow, wander around, I'll introduce to some folks, maybe Collette'll be there."

There was a crash as Philip fell off his chair, and a confused couple of seconds while he sorted out the relative positions of his feet, his head and the floor, but then he turned to Boyce.

"Collette? Who's she?"

"Collette de Maynard. She's working with the del Orofin representative here. Nice girl, a little too serious, but nice."

"Nice."

Philip thought back to the night he'd spent in jail at Collette's whim. The duel he'd gotten involved in due to her scheming.

His expression blackened and Elena leaned forward to distract Boyce.

"Are you two involved? You sound pretty sweet on her."

Boyce paid no further attention to Philip as the Saijadani lowered himself back to his chair, still reeling from the news that his hated enemy was here. He turned to look at Nevid, who had likewise been shocked by Boyce's casual revelation.

Collette had danced circles around them in Fort Burnoll, swindling them out crucial information, getting Philip involved in a duel (the fact that Philip had broken the conditions of the duel and beheaded his opponent and was therefore a man with a price on his head never got mentioned), getting them thrown in jail and generally leading them around by the nose, making them look foolish and then scarpering off with the goods.

"We have to tell Isabella that she's here. This is serious."

Philip nodded.

"I knew I'd be saying this, I just didn't think it would be so soon. I wish Aubrey were here."

*****

"The Path of the Mother. The Path of the Child."

Elena lay on her cot, listening to Arrafin sleep and trying to keep the room from spinning too much. The Naridic girl was a restless sleeper, always muttering to herself as she tossed and turned. Outside, the streets of Bayonne were quiet, with only distant braying from the game pens disturbing the air.

At least she hadn't disgraced Saijadan in matching Boyce drink for drink.

Rising from bed, Elena stepped carefully across the room to the door, opened it and slipped out into the hallway just as Arrafin mumbled, "I learned to read at home."

She made her way down the hallway, past the other inn rooms, towards the rear of the building. Elena was a big woman, but she moved with surprising grace and her footsteps made no sound as she walked. She opened the back door of the inn and slipped into the yard.

"The Path of the Mother. The Path of the Child."

Nitara's wagon was the nearest to the inn wall. Elena, not bothering with stealth any longer, strolled around to the back of the wagon and looked up at the door. She debated inside herself for a while and then knocked softly.

Inside she heard a low chuckle and the door opened.

Nitara leaned against the door, a thick velvet robe wrapped around her. She smiled down at Elena and gestured for the woman to enter.

Elena nodded and smiled, and climbed up into the wagon. Nitara's dark eyes watched her go by. Kalibar sat on the floor of the wagon, staring at the Saijadani woman as she came in.

"Yes. Sit down, child."

Elena sat. She heard Nitara close the door behind her. Kalibar smiled.

"The path of the mother. I can see you upon it, Elena del los Santos. You walk this path."

"What are you talking about? I don't understand."

Kalibar's smile widened.

"You do. You understand me perfectly."

Elena shook her head.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Why won't you explain?"

"You hear me."

"Yes, I hear you."

"But I am not speaking."

Elena frowned, confused for a second. Her mouth fell open as she realised not one word had been spoken aloud since she had entered the wagon.

*****

Philip also lay awake, also listening to his roommate sleep. Nevid snored heavily, which didn't surprise Philip so much. The young man had gone a little overboard on the beer and had been carried up to the room.

Collette. Philip's hands itched for the Gap woman's throat.

He could see her face clearly. Black hair, sleepy, half-open eyes, sly, mocking, hateful.

He lay awake a long time with that face before him. While Nevid snored.

*****

"What are you doing? How are you doing it?"

"We are both doing it, Elena. As I have said, I walk the path of the child. As a child I learned these skills -- only as a child can one learn them."

"I didn't learn them as a child."

"No. You walk the path of the mother. You are born to this, Elena. For you, it is not a question of learning, but discovering. I can set you on that journey, if you wish. But you cannot turn back, once you have begun."

Elena turned away from the intensity of Kalibar's stare. Suddenly the kindly old man seemed like a majestic figure, clothed in power and wisdom. She looked over where Nitara sat, watching, her robe gathered around her.

It took a few seconds for Elena to find her voice.

"Are you... what's the word... psychic, too?"

The wagon rocked a little from a sudden thump and there was a worried squeak from outside. Nitara and Kalibar exchanged a frown, and then the dancer went to the door, whipped it open and dragged in a sputtering, unkempt Arrafin.

"I wasn't listening! Promise! Well okay I was but nobody was saying anything! What's going on? Elena?"

barsoomcore · Nov 11, 2003

And that's how Elena's player discovered that her character was a psion. This is the first hint that Barsoom's whole "no magic" position is perhaps not quite as complete as it might seem...