Robert Moran slowly awoke, with the cold, sharp certainty that today was going to be a very dangerous day. Nobody to talk to, no one who could listen even if he did. But that's what he had gotten. Frankly, if it weren't for the certainty of his own death in the very near future, some days he wouldn't get out of bed. You see, Robert had that certain malady which, in some, might be considered to be insanity, or merely storytelling, or if seriously misconstrued got him slapped. Robert was a Player. And to be a Player was to die, because that was the nature of the Game he Played. ------------------------------------- High Stakes Chapter 18: Hedge the Bet Starring and Introducing Robert Moran Created by NeoVid Written By Barton Earl Bison ------------------------------------- Belfast was a dirty industrial town in the fine tradition of dirty industrial towns everywhere. While Acts of Parliament had made it clean up its act to a certain degree, the fact that it wasn't a place to raise kids was readily and clearly apparent. Robert Moran leaned against an old brick wall and waited for the boom to drop. He knew he had a challenge, and there was no way he'd back out of it, not by a long shot. He'd never backed down from any sort of challenge before, but he had to admit, this new idea made him nervous. In his hand were two strange pieces of supposedly flimsy cardboard that had shown up one morning in the oven inside his apartment. Not that he'd cared, but then came what he considered "Marching Orders". These were actually his fifth, but they were pretty clear. He was to meet- and somehow fight- someone he didn't even know. He sighed his general disapproval. Moran was a big man- what might classify for a true heavyweight in boxing, had he ever cared to take up the sport. Unfortunately, it's very hard to talk trash when you're a mute, so he opted instead for the casual form of brawling common on any sort of Mean Street. These had earned him a few scars on arm and leg before he had twigged to the idea that maybe you don't want to give your opponent an advantage. His blondish hair was cropped short so that no one could pull on it in an inopportune moment. And his eyes looked hazel at first, but faded into a green that was just as soft as old grass before it had dried completely. He wore clothing appropriate for the terrible weather- an old waterproof black trench coat with a bowler and umbrella. But here he was, with only two cards of what he liked to call his Hand. But these two cards were the ones with the biggest numbers. He'd never been inclined towards using them, preferring to attack solely with the ones with lower numbers on them. But now, as he stared down at the two cards in his hands, and memorized them, scrutinized them for some new strategy, Moran came to a stunning conclusion. He was going to die if he lost these cards. That, apparently, was one of the rules- one of the rules he hadn't known existed before a few weeks ago. Once again, he looked at them, though he didn't know much about the Game. The first had a picture of what some might consider to be an angel- the helm's visor covered the lower half of a overshadowed face with glowing green eyes, but underneath that, it had bare shoulders, arms, and chest. It had white wings, and on its back was a large sword- Robert had never seen the blade, but instantly knew it to be almost as big as the angel itself. Just below this, the statistics started to show up: Blood/Light/Air, Lawbringer, 1,900/700. Moran knew that was somewhat powerful, as Minions went, and it showed in how it responded. "I will protect you," it thought at him, and he nodded. And then he turned to the other one. This one was less battle-scarred, more innocent-looking. It had a pale, white face and blonde hair in its picture. It had the beginnings of a blue dress. But more importantly, it was holding up a small dagger, which almost seemed to drip blood. The smile hid teeth that were jagged, almost like a shark's set of pearlies, which were covered in that substance as well. And the eyes... The eyes were a deep, malevolent red, burning with inner brimstone. Her name was Alice. The only thought he got from her was a short, sharp, almost manic laughter. She was Blood/Dark/Fire, Her name was Alice, and she ranked in at a very even 1,000/1,000. Robert had managed to spot his mark ages ago, and now was just waiting for him to pass by. Their eyes met, and all at once, they knew. He tapped the higher-ranked man on the shoulder. "Martin Hart?" he signed. Martin Hart, a touch shorter than Robert himself was, but more stringy and lanky, looked a little intimidated by the larger man, but smiled. He wore a fairly large bomber jacket- almost a size too large for him, and blue jeans. Robert pointed to a small warehouse that caught his eye. Sure enough, it looked run-down, as if no one had bothered to look into it for months. An ideal place... when you don't want anyone to see what you're doing. "It's time, Mr. Moran," Martin said, slowly. And in Robert's head, there came a shout from Lawbringer. "I CAN DO THIS!" It was the same shout Lawbringer always gave. With little else except desperation to guide him in the finer pointes of combat, he went ahead and brought out Lawbringer. He was more bright than Moran had ever imagined- a flash of light that forced both combatants to cover their eyes. Robert caught a brief moment of black hair before the helmet covered his head. Lawbringer was shorter than Moran was by quite a bit he appeared to be at that awkward stage of puberty where your feet are just large enough to cause you trouble. Except for a blue kilt, Lawbringer had no clothing except the scabbard for his blade, which was in reality more of a metal harness. He unslung the blade, which appeared to be made out of some sort of burnished brass, covered in old, unidentifiable symbols made of a darker, more ruddy brown. "Huh. I've never seen anything look quite so... human before." Robert shrugged. All his Minions had looked like that- just human enough to creep people the hell out. "Anyway... It's time to say goodbye. Because I call Rasputin." Despite the name, it looked completely inhuman, an edifice made of mud, rising out of the ground. Or at least, that's what it seemed to be at first. Long, gangly arms of clay hardened into near-metallic tracks of armor along the outer arms. Slowly, a lump of a head started to form, but never rose and made a neck to support it. Instead, two beady yellow eyes looked at the diminutive form of Lawbringer. To Robert's mind, it read Earth/Water, but that couldn't be right- Even Robert had learned the rudiments of Elemental matching- this man was asking for a slaughter. And then Robert saw the rank of this behemoth, this Rasputin. 2,261/ 1,739. Lawbringer was about to fight a 4,000-point Minion. Though its stats were not insurmountable, Robert was inexperienced... His buffer was running low. And Lawbringer was not exactly a defensive Minion. Robert felt the cold gamble, the near certainty that Lawbringer would lose. And Robert would be one step closer to death. "Idiot. I said I'd protect you... And that's what I'm going to do." Lawbringer stepped into the fray. Almost immediately, Robert held up his hands defensively as Martin called out an attack. Lawbringer put his sword in front of him and used it as cover, deflecting the earthen wave nicely. Robert couldn't explain how he knew how to activate all of Lawbringer's moves, just that he 'knew', in a way he just hadn't with his earlier Minions. Robert did a small spinning motion with his hands- Lawbringer's sword spun in sympathy as he brought it around, and swung, throwing spikes of earth back at Rasputin, piercing it through in several places, it held up its arms and backed away a touch, trying to regain its footing. Before it could maneuver into position for another strike, Lawbringer lifted off in response to Robert's signaling with his hands. It was as if he was dancing, only with his hands. Thought flowed into action, he didn't know what, exactly, he was going to order Lawbringer to do next. Martin responded by having Rasputin swat at Lawbringer, which Lawbringer dodged easily enough, and swiped at the thing. Its runes glowed, and it scraped loudly against Rasputin's armor. This style of exchange- with Lawbringer dodging or getting scraped, followed by another crashing blow from Lawbringer's sword at Rasputin- continued for about a minute, and each time, Rasputin came the worse off. And then it started to scream at them. "Poison did not kill me, shots did not kill me. What makes you think your puny sword will kill me?" Robert cringed at the assault. Lawbringer's wings crumpled, but he quickly recovered, and slammed the sword into Rasputin's shoulder. Again, armor clanged against the sword. Lawbringer brought it back, flapped away from the incoming assault. The winds gathered along his sword, which started to glow all along its length, until Lawbringer seemed to dive and spin in midair into a perfect landing, forming what Robert could only later describe as a "Brilliant Tornado". While Rasputin was dealing with this new threat, Robert ordered Lawbringer to press his attack. He took a gander at the status of the Minions. Lawbringer was still going strong at 500 life points. He checked Rasputin and smiled. 960. Lawbringer's long, level-headed assault had won him a little under half Rasputin's life. At this rate, Lawbringer was cinched to win. Lawbringer was slowly pecking at Rasputin's Life rating, and there was nothing the mud golem could do about it. At least, that's how it seemed when Rasputin seemed to suck in the Brilliant Tornado, and swelled like a gigantic bellows. Soon it looked like a ball. Before Lawbringer could strike again, Rasputin rumbled out something that sounded like "Tsunami Reprisal." The gigantic wave sprang as if from every pore of Rasputin's engorged self, letting out what could only be termed a catastrophe- it washed back and forth, a huge wall of water, until Robert was surprised that he was still breathing in the water and the muck. It drained slowly away, revealing a small red dome. Hastily, he checked the stats. Rasputin had taken a little under 300 points for that assault- not surprising, considering how he had ruptured himself to do it. But Lawbringer was the real shock. 370. Rasputin's Trump had somehow only done 130 points of damage- to a weaker Minion. The red dome caked, cracked, faded away, and Lawbringer stepped out of it, a little worse for wear, but not very much so. It reached for its blade, cut its palm afresh. The blood running down the blade made the runes glow with more than a mere sinister light- no, the entire sword seemed to glisten redly. Its life points went down to three hundred. "Your little angel is killing himself... Is that wise?" Robert renewed his assault on Rasputin. Only 600 points to go. He had to do this. There was no way around it- Alice, no matter what she was saying, could never handle something of this magnitude against her Element. And then, another player with an Earth Minion and something to prove would challenge him, and Moran would accept... and he would die. Slash after slash after slash- partly out of pure respect for Lawbringer's skill, but mostly out of desperation, Robert attacked wildly, only trusting in the speed of Lawbringer's wings to find the next opening. Robert could see Martin fumbling with his hand. He was going to make a change- one that, inevitably, would stomp Lawbringer unless he could fight fast enough to bring down Rasputin. 250... 200... Lawbringer's life points had yet to hit 270- he was managing well enough not to get hit, or at the very least parrying. Martin found his card- sent it out. It looked like a largish spider. It read: Poison Arachne 100/250. The Minion was short work for Lawbringer, and it faded away, bisected, just before Lawbringer himself disappeared in a flash of light. Both appeared in Robert's hand. Martin had Folded. But why? Surely he had some more powerful Minions than Arachne. Martin smiled. "Thanks for showing me that Minion. I'd never have known you had such a short Hand, what with your Rank." Robert shrugged. That was how it went. "In fact, that seems like a really useful Hand, there, especially with Arachne. A little building, and I don't doubt that it could be one of the best in the world." Again, Robert shrugged. Who cared about being the best? The best was just an appellation. From the depths of Martin's jacket came a semi-automatic. "All the more reason I should take it." He loaded the chamber, removed the safety. Moran's arms started to shake. A Minion rose up- Alice- he was brought to his knees as she stood up, not exactly upset. In fact, she looked positively pleased that Martin was pointing a gun at her, though her eyes were closed. Martin's hands shook, tried to put the gun away of their own accord. He wrestled them back into position, aiming right through Alice. He fired. They impacted- once, twice, three times. Alice didn't even try to dodge. She just kept walking at him. His aim started to foul even more, he was breaking out into a cold sweat. When they were face to face, Alice smiled that soft, yet extremely sharp grin. "You've been CHEATING. Guess what happens to cheaters?" Martin tried to push her away, to no avail- and then- her eyes opened, full of flame and smoke. "T-T-The Game kills anyway!" Alice shook her head. "The Game promises eternal life. But you... You break that promise with every match you lose." "R-RASPUTIN!" No answer. "You broke the Rules," Alice pouted. "You can't break the Rules and expect us to help you." She raised her knife... Then stopped. "No... I think you should go on a little adventure with me." She forcefully grabbed Martin's hand- and both vanished from the scene, and only Alice appeared in Robert's hand, though in his head, he heard both Alice's laughter and Martin's screams of terror- and pain. But the gunshots had to have been heard. Robert now had a goal. He had to get out of Belfast. Fast. ===== Beware the Radish http://www.chaoseed.com/btr April 4th, 2006