Hell On a Stick Pt. 5: A Hop, Whip and a Jump Away

 

"Mmmkay got my things. Meet him outside he said. OK. Well, what to do about all of this."

I'd gotten myself into a bucket of trouble, it looked like. And for what? I could have simply stayed in Purgatory for the week. I could have toured Heaven! But no. Right into whatever politico drama Hades and Satan have been fussing over for however long.
Ah, shut it Cayman. What's the worst that could happen?
I could accidentally cause the Rapture? And Satan would take over the four realms?
And what are you sulking about? We have someone to meet! Quickly now.

Down the hall, down the stairs, past the cafe and the reception desk and out the double doors. I don't see Minerva or Erro, though I'm sure at least Erro is spying on my actions or at the minimum aware of things. Or maybe not.
Out in the entry square, I see Lonnie standing at the fountain in the middle of the plaza.
"Good you're here, we gotta get to Merald's quick."
And off we go.
Lonnie gets to a quickened pace; and we pass through a decorative gate that says 'Shop Street' (aptly named, I think. Seeing how this is the shopping district). The density of the place gets from a couple people milling about in the square to a crowd-level on Shop Street. We hug the left side of the street and after a couple hundred feet Lonnie disappears down one of the shop entrances, in this case a narrow alley, and I follow him. The light level drops further and I meet him at the door at the end of the corridor.
'Merald's Powder Paradise' reads the glowing sign in flowery, bioluminescent lettering that hangs above the door.
Lonnie pushes the door open and we go in.
Merald's not here. I look around the shop. All sorts of devices lay on display shelves, and the glass cabinets have strange colored vials of powder. I can tell that the devices use powder in some way, but a lot of them look very strange, in all sorts of twisting and colorful designs. They are largely made from finely milled stone, and they look to be handmade. Prices are scrawled on squares of paper that sit next to each device, and some of them cost hundreds of, wait, I don't know what currency they use in this town.
"What's the money you use in Crioz-"
I turn to Lonnie only to see he's not here suddenly. I wasn't paying attention. Where did he go?
He couldn't have left out the front door. I go to the back of the shop and see a doorway past the front counter. I push through the counter's gate and go through the back doorway.
It's the back, I see lots of stored packages and stuff on shelves all tightly crammed in. I tenderly make my way to the back of the storage room. I turn the corner and--
Lonnie's on the floor, not moving. I freeze. I'm not the only one here. He's unconscious, he's breathing though. Why'd they knock him out? I don't see bruises or marks on him. I feel something in the store room with me.
sssssss thwi-
"Hhnk!"
I've caught someone's hand.
"And who might you be?" With a tight grip, I contort the assaulter's hand and force her to drop her.....well it's a weapon, don't know what sort. Not a bladed thing, it looks like a pointed rod, but it's the thickness of a pencil and about a foot long.
Struggling, and writhing helplessly, in a very strange accent:
"I am Fursten, wind of the shadows. Free me immediately! My superiors will not look kindly on you for this act, unhand me at onc-
"Please, they already don't look kindly on me, they've sent you after us. What did I do? What do you want."
"I will not speak! Unhand me I say!"
"Ok, I'll take your wand for safekeeping though. Just for right now. That ok with you?"
"No! Give it back!"
"No."
I place it in my bag. My bag's protected by a fingerprint lock. Fancy fancy, I know. It should be safe enough against Fursten.
I unhand her. She's an interesting looking creature. She is a shadow of sorts, and her figure is geometric. Disc-like face with green and black eyes and mouth, no nose. They glow as if lit from within her body, and they are two dimensional, like the rest of her black, fuzzy body. Visually fuzzy, that is. Physically her hand felt like a very strong suggestion, like she wasn’t actually there. Her arms are elongated and curving, with minimal details aside from the fuzz. No hands, she just curls her arm tips to handle things. Legs are the same way. She has nothing else on her, it looks like the rod-wand was all she had on her.
"What do you want with us. "
"The staff. My superiors require it. And quickly! We have very little time to waste."
"The staff? Which one."
"You know the one! Do not play small brained with me human."
"Ah ok, just making sure we were talking about the same one. Do you work for Satan?"
"Absolutely not. Satan is a petty lowlife that happens to have too much power." She spits.
"Hades, then."
"He is a close ally to my masters, so perhaps you could say so."
"Well, why do you need the staff?"
"To return it to the Purgatory realm and with a quickness! Satan has his plans, and I cannot let them pass. Now, the staff, please."
Well, ok. That solves it then. She's not a threat, or rather, not a threat I need to be worried about.
"I don't have it."
"Utter nonsense, my superiors said that you had come into this realm with it and you were in Criozesas. My superiors are never wrong."
"Ah hah....Well that was the case up until recently. It was taken from me, and I don't know where it is right now.”
“So you just. Lost it?”
“Uh, ok. It was with me, and then I went to my motel room. And then I went down to eat dinner in the motel restaurant, and I don’t have it anymore. So I’m pretty sure it was stolen from the room.”
“This…..Complicates matters very intensively. Do you have any idea who could have it? Every moment that passes is a moment the staff might be getting closer to Satan’s hands.”
“I understand that. Now, can you wake Lonnie up. What does your wand do exactly?”
“Instant indefinite incapacitation. He will awake if I tap him with it. Give it back to me please.”
I hand her the wand. She pokes Lonnie on the back with it. He grunts, and gets up.
“Hnnnmhp. Hmmm. Good nap, oh, new face? Hey, I’m Lonnie.”
He shakes her armtip.
“I am Fursten…Wind of the Shadows……Ugh! Are neither of you offput by my appearance at all? Is this forme not imposing enough? Neither of you look even inquisitive!”
“Ah….Nice to meet you Fursten. Um, you kinda just look like a shadowy gingerbread person? I dunno, it’s not really scary.” Lonnie scratches the back of his head.
Fursten is ruffled by this revelation. It seems like she’s put in quite a bit of work into this ‘Wind of the Shadows’ act. A sleep wand isn’t scary either, so maybe she should have gone for a different weapon.
She sighs. “No matter. Hello, ‘Lonnie’, I will update you on matters. My superiors have sent me to remove the Staff Of Purgatory from your possession, and it seems like you two do not hav—
“Yeah yeah yeah, we already know it’s been stolen from us and we’re trying to find it too, you know. And who did you say wants it? Your superiors?” Lonnie cuts her off.
“It sounds a little silly, but we are the Shadow Corps, and we are the recon service in affiliation with Hades. I am Fursten Viane. As you two are clearly inept and incapable of even keeping hold of a precious artefact, I’ll be assisting you in the retrieval of the Staff. If you don’t mind.”
Lonnie just looks at her flat-faced.
“Ok, sure, why not, the more the merrier.”
Someone shows up at the door.
“Oi! A party in the backroom? You din’t invite me!”
It’s Merald, in all his bony two-piece glory.
“Hey, Merald! Sorry to crowd you out here, we just picked up another set of hands.”
“Three’s a crowd. Which is why you three need to get goin’!”
“Find anything out?” I ask.
“Indeed. Erro’s slipped the staff to one of Satan’s spies. That cat would do anything for a couple o’ coins.”
“Where are they now? We must intercept them.” Fursten curls her arm tips angrily around her wand. “I shall knock them an extra special sort of hard and put them to sleep…permanently.” She looks so cartoonish-angry it makes me repress a smile.
“All I know is they’re on the next cargo train back to Corpinn, which would make sense, seeing how that’s the closest city to Satan’s fortress.”
“Let’s go then. When does the train depart?” I ask.
“One hour. Go!”
We leave the backroom, and the three of us exit the shop.
“You comin’ Merald? I know you usually hang back for my outings but this is big.”
“Naw, I’m a slickster, not a fighter. I’d fall apart quick out there, and I can tell you guys are in for a tough time. Also, who would nose around ‘zesas? Good luck, Lonnie. I’ll keep you posted.”
Lonnie smiles and then steps out after us.
Fursten’s gone into shadow mode.
“I’ll be invisible for right now. Never know what might happen.”
“Station platform is to the east end of the town, I don’t know if we’ll find him there, but it’s worth a shot. Let’s go. Oh, you guys need anything before we get going?” Lonnie pauses.
“Am I going to need a weapon?” I poke through my bag, and display my gleaming, stainless steel….Ta da!
“I have….a multi tool.”
Lonnie just looks at me.
“Let’s get you something more….fierce.”
Lonnie leads us to a largish tent on the side of the street. A large Iguana is busy selling various things. I can see a large amount of adventuring gear. Compasses, backpacks, flasks. Odd devices that look like flashlights but have a large crystal at the bulb area. Folding staves, a few small guns (pistols mostly, but there is a revolver for sale).
I’m stumped. I don’t really fight much. Usually I’m just adventuring, so the worst encounters are wild animals, and it’s better to de-escalate or evade altogether.
“What would you recommend. Also, do people do a lot of fighting down here? Is a weapon necessary.”
Lonnie regards me with a look of whimsy.
“Cayman. We are a small trio of characters in a great game of theatre and politics. We have to halt the Rapture, and the reason why we can’t alert the whole populace to our little adventure here is because we will get killed.”
His voice drops to a whisper.
“You know how many people around here are Satan sympathizers? We even have a dedicated Satanist church in the north part of town. We gotta be careful, see?”
“Mhm. Ok. Weapon it is. You all got magic down here?”
“Barely. Magic is really damn powerful and you have to train from birth in the ways of the Arcane. Also you have to either be a prodigy or born into the Recana race. Enchanted tools are the closest most of us get to bein’ a Recana. It’s every little kid’s dream to fly and cast spells like ‘em, but most of us are pretty ordinary. Enchanted stuff’s also really expensive. Rye! Wha-do-you got for a traveler?”
The Iguana’s head perks, and looks over to Lonnie. His blue industrial jacket is emblazoned with a red and black logo on the left side: “Rye’s Tricky Trinkets” which incidentally happens to be the name of his pop up shop, big letters marking the white tent fabric.
“Hai Lonnie, a new frien’? Where are you off to now?” Rye’s tongue flicks in and out. He looks me over.
“Complicated business, more so than usual. Rye, this is Cayman.”
“Hai new frien’ Cayman! Look forward to do buzinez wiz you.”
“We need something light and multi-usage for someone who doesn’t fight much. Also: not too pricey. We’re on a budget.”
“Please, frien’ Lonnie. You pay me too much in ozer wayz. For a big owting for the new frien’ I will allow you wun free item. Take yor pik! A daggir mebbe? A wheep! Oh, mebbe a little mashetty?” Rye excitedly gestures to different items on the table. Something snags my attention. It’s a whip with a snake motif: the base handle looks like the head of a snake and it tapers to a sharp looking end that mimics a snake tail. The material appears scaly and has a shimmery, green-black coloring. I pick it up.
“What’s this Rye? It looks like a snake.”
“Ai see yor new frien’ haz good eye! Dat, new frien’ Cayman, is a new item fresh in from da Medusan Cult. Zey are alwayz eenventin’ new sortz of stuffz and I am always happi to take dem off deir handz when dey evenchuallee no need dem anymor.”
“….Why don’t they need the stuff they make anymore?”
“Ah…..Strange cult Medusans are. Medusa jus’ eetz her followers ven she is hungry. I am deir sometimez to collect da stuff from da outzide of her cave. Lotz and lotz of magik stuffz for me to pick up and sell---and for free! She do not mind me much. Manely becauze I give her delizious treats (I am good cook) also I am reptile. Reptiles are famly even if she is a bloodthirzty crazy reptile and I am a nize, frien’ly reptile. That iz life.”
“I’m sure she’s a fun person. What does this whip do?”
“Interezting little ting. Magic wheep. Curlz by itzelf for eazy tranzport and ztorage. When krak’d forward you kan wheep it like uzual wheep (pointy tail part here very sharp. Or, you kan chooze to hav’ it become wun long znake, very very ztiff, very ztrong. Let Rye demonztrate.”
Rye takes the whip by the handle and expertly flicks at a cardboard price board on a table on the other side of his tent, a hole made in a zero in the “ZMALL WEAPONZ ALL ON ZALE 30% OFF”. Clean cut, perfect little circular puncture. He has impressive aim. The whip returns to a convenient resting position, neatly curled.
“Oar, you kan hav it do diz!”
Rye whips it again, and this time as the whip’s tail end reaches the end of its length the whole whip straightens suddenly, about twelve feet long, and it looks like a straightened taxidermized snake. A very long one.
“It iz all in da flick of da wrizt, frien’. Look, very very strong!”
Rye takes the whip-now-staff and puts it up between opposing tables on either side of his tent, the staff only resting about a foot of its length on either table, the rest spanning across. He then sits partially onto the middle of the staff and puts most of his weight on it; an Iguana of his size probably weighed 600 pounds or more. The staff doesn’t snap, or even flex.
“Zee? Incredible little ting. And juzt zqueeze da handel here and look!”
The snake whip falters, then softens back into a rope-like material, and curls neatly back into an unassuming whip again.
Lonnie’s impressed.
“That’s a darn good item there Rye, and is the definition of light, multipurpose, and easy to use. You always have the right thing in stock. You sure you don’t want any coin for that?”
“Juzt promize me you weel do good widdit ya?”
“Yes, of course, thanks a plenty!” I excitedly take the whip from Rye. It’s a fantastically put together piece of equipment, the scales smooth and almost soft to the touch.
“Can we get quick on? I am so annoyed, you humans. So slow! Nothing like the lithe shadow clan I come from. Hm!”
She’s still invisible, so Rye is a little confused.
“New frien’? Where iz she? I do not see her.”
Fursten rematerializes, although she clearly doesn’t want to.
“Hi. I am Fursten. I am here to assist these two fools. Cannot say much more though, top secret business, sorry Mr. Rye.”
“Ah nize to meet you new frien’ Furzten! Good luck on yor bizniztrip wid deez two, hav fun!”
“Bye Rye, I’ll see ya later.” Lonnie waves, and we’re off down the street towards the station. Fursten goes back to shadow mode.
“So you have trains? Modern.”
“Well it’s kind of like what you all have up there. But kind of not. See, the cargo line that runs from Criozesas has two pairs of demons that we employ on both ends of the line. They’re two pairs o’ jealous lovers that, one wanted one and the other wanted the other, that sort of deal. So they committed crimes against each other while they were alive---all sorts of crazy stuff, and they ended up killing each other over the one they were madly in love with. Their curse is that they’re all pulled together forcibly, but then as they get close they are propelled away again by force. Wacky punishment if you ask me, but inventive. They’re fine with it, they’ve been doing it for over a hundred years now. Full time train conductors, is what they are at this point. The force that propels them away and back together forces them back and forth against the ends of the train; that way we get free propulsion here and over to Corpinn and back again.”
“That’s insane, but makes sense. I’m getting the feeling a lot of wacky stuff happens down here.”
“You get used to it. Ah, there’s the station. You can see it o’er there.”
Lonnie points down the street we’re walking on. The cargo train is a large body that looks like dragon, with heads at both ends. It’s completely for aesthetics: it’s otherwise a regular looking set of train cars.
The station is busy with cargo workers taking wares and raw materials out of the box cars and others, loading in refined goods back to Corpinn. There seems to be only one passenger car at the very right side, right before the ‘engine’ car at the end.
I wonder where Jevas is. I have to tell him about all this that’s happening; really big developments have taken place during my short stay in hell.
“Lonnie, do you know where Jevas is? I should update him on things.”
“Oh yeah, Jevas! Slipped my mind. I’ve been so caught up on everythin’. He rattles his beaded wrist bracelet and pulls one of the beaded strings on it. He holds the string there, then lets go.
“Hey Lonnie! Getting late around here. What are you up to?” Jevas’ voice appears to be coming from Lonnie’s bracelet. Another new interesting device in the Underworld.
“We are….In the middle of a lot right now Jevas. That staff Cayman came in with? Yeah it’s the Purgatory Keystaff. It’s been stolen. Where are you now? We’re at the station.”
“I’m near you actually! I was visiting a friend’s house on the east side. I’ll be over, don’t tie yourself up waiting for me though.”
“See you.” Lonnie pulls once on the string he pulled earlier.
“Hell’s equivalent of the telephone I see.”
“They’re called telephones? Interesting. We call these bracelets Voclets, you assign a beaded string to another person’s Voclet and you can call them up. They work no matter where you are in hell, very handy.”
“And they work without any particular power source…Fascinating.”
“Oh no they’re powered by Arcane magic, the Recana do indeed sell low level magic wares to the public and make lots of coin doing so. This is one of their more popular items they sell. They have a dedicated shop on Shop Street if you want to take a look later.”
I don’t feel Fursten’s fuzzy presence.
“…Where’s Fursten?”
“Not sure where she went. Maybe she went to look around.”
.
.
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