Saturday 5th February 2011
I reappeared in the sky above Ellisburg. I thought there were less elk there than there had been before, but it was hard to tell. There were more bales of hay, which was a good sign; the Protectorate would not put more biomass in Ellisburg if Nilbog was still a problem.
I'd duplicated another Shield-Wall Sentinel for a Golden Guardian at the end of turn -- I didn't need thirty new lands, but one really good one wouldn't go amiss.
Rather than fight it myself, I'd asked Teetoo if she was interested. She was. She had a weak little sword from her own cards, summoned when she got her second land, and was eager to put it to the test. She squared off against the Golden Guardian while the Oracle watched, drew her sword, and said, "Ready!"
I paid the mana for the Guardian to attack Tee, and she rushed forward and walloped it with her sword, making it fall over, dead, and generating me my fourth Gold-Forge Garrison and four life points from her Lifelink. I put it with the others.
Okay, fine, she didn't 'wallop' it. She was just as good with a sword as I was, and knew the weak-spots of golems just as well as I. It hardly mattered -- with First Strike she was going to win without taking a scratch anyway.
My Scheme was The Fate of the Flammable. It did pretty much what you'd expect. I didn't activate it.
My Power-selected card was Hymn of Rebirth -- another resurrection spell. Hopefully I'd never need it.
My Magic Mirror also drew me a card, Two-Headed Giant of Foriys. I didn't have a need for a two-headed giant, and I seriously doubted that I ever would, especially if it had a stupid pun for its name. It was fine, the Mirror would soon be drawing me lots of lovely cards. Useful ones!
I played the Meticulous Archive card into the Stash, to help Teetoo's Tinkering. It surveiled a card, Moat Piranhas. One on hand the idea of having piranhas in Castle Ardenvale's moat was hilarious, and would make a great talking point. On the other hand, they'd be a pain to feed and I was working with a limit on how many non-token creatures I could keep at any one time. I wasn't going to lose one of those slots to a throw-away joke. The card went into my graveyard.
Now that my daily start was done, I went to comms. "Hello, Ellisburg. This is Walker. Is anyone on this frequency?"
The reply came quick enough, "This is Q4 Command. I hear you, Walker. Please return to base for debrief. Over."
"On my way." Then. "Um, Out."
Commander Johnston was not there, but there was a Deputy Commander Rees. She welcomed me with a fist bump and a smile, and we had a chat about Ellisburg. The short form is that everything went according to plan, and they were very confident that I got Nilbog along with all his creations. Or at least, one of the elk was dressed in the tatters of his outfit. There was an underground complex that they'd need to explore, but Nilbog was no engineer, so they didn't expect any surprises. The elk were all still enthusiastically homicidal, but this had been anticipated -- like Nilbog's creations, the elk weren't keen to walk through the Tinkertech sonic walls that surrounded the containment zone, but unlike them they were as dumb as bricks and couldn't fly over, tunnel under, snipe at, explode, or otherwise circumvent such measures. There was a plan to cull most of them and let the rest migrate to a Canadian nature reserve where it was thought that they might be happy, and then see if they still wanted to kill all humans on sight after a year or two.
It sounded good to me. I bumped fists, tapped the Pearl Mox I'd brought with me, and teleported home.
The first thing I did was tap the Tolarian Academy for mana, and electric shocks ran up my body and through to my hands and the glow of blue mana was nearly blinding. I was able to bring it under control, but it was a bit of a surprise; I'd be more respectful of the Academy in future. Once I was happy that the blue mana wasn't getting out of hand, I tapped my Coveted Jewels for black mana. And then I used my 'Dismiss' ability to get rid of all of them. One was a card, and ended up in my hand, and the rest were tokens and disappeared into the aether. It was good to get rid of a crutch I no longer needed.
Next I cast Darksteel Forge for nine mana. It was an artefact that made all my artefacts indestructible. I mean, I wasn't really worried about most of them, but better safe than sorry.
After that, I did schoolwork until it was time for breakfast. I loved the time that being a noctis cape gave me, but mornings were often annoyingly boring. My stash of books that Yuriko had given me were all read now; maybe I needed to make my friends noctis capes as well. Or buy more books. One or the other.
I decided that Teetoo had had enough sleep and that she should have at least one civilised meal in her day, so I woke her and called her over, and I called over Yuriko, who had been staying at the AirBNB, and we all had breakfast with Dad. There wasn't much scintillating conversation to be had at that time of day, but it was still nice to sit down and eat with everyone before we scattered to our chosen chores.
After Dad had left, Teetoo cleared her throat.
"So," said Teetoo, pulling a piece of paper out of her bag, "I've been thinking..."
Teetoo had been very happy with the Tinkering benefits from Mishra's and Urza's lands, and the Archive, as they'd allowed her to finish her Illusionist's Bracers ahead of time. She wasn't finding the bracers easy to use for anything other than duplicating abilities, but she was delighted to have finished the project. She decided that time spent Tinkering artefacts to speed up future Tinkering would be time well spent, and it was hard to argue with her. The list of Tinkerable artefacts was too long to review, but when she focussed on 'helpers', she found a few that would boost Tinker counter generation. By 'a few', she'd found forty-five. They varied from a holographic virtual assistant to a metal beetle that carried molten metal parts in its jaws.
To start with, there was the Mine Worker, Tower Worker, and Power Plant Worker, who synergised with Urza's Mine, Tower, and Power Plant respectively. There was a Foundry Assembler, a Workshop Assistant, a Kuldotha Forgemaster, and an Academy Manufactor, as well. They weren't as clearly aligned with Mishra as the first three were to Urza, but they would probably be able to help at the Foundry, Workshop, Forge, and Academy. It would take a lot of work to get them all in place, but once we did, the actual Tinkering should go pretty smoothly.
Well, Tee was mostly enthused about my picks. It turned out that she wasn't so keen on the Forgemaster, because it'd 'put her out of a job'. We agreed to hold off on that one for now, even after I assured her that I was fine with recreational Tinkering.
I gave Teetoo the go-ahead to get started, and I gave Yuriko my Number Man account card and asked her to source the materials Teetoo would need. Hopefully Urza's Mine would reduce the material restrictions for future projects.
I did have a couple of Tinkering projects of my own I wanted to get started on, but that was fine -- if we ended up needing the same tools, I'd kick Teetoo out and force her into the sunlight so I could Tinker in peace.
After breakfast, I had a few errands to run.
Well, first I did some Tinkering -- planning a little project I wanted done for when I started at Arcadia High, which seemed to be a sure thing now. I was going to be going there as an unmasked cape, and I was going to be getting a lot of attention, at least to start. I wasn't cool and I wasn't ever going to be popular, but I could possibly buy some coolness points through Tinkering and I might be able to trade those for a few people who were willing to pretend to be my friend in return for proximity to Tinkertech. They wouldn't be real friends but that was almost better, because as long as I remembered that, they wouldn't be able to hurt me.
It was a great plan, I just needed to figure out what to make. I wanted a flying motorcycle -- a High-Speed Hoverbike -- but I was only fifteen and I didn't have a driving license yet. Annoying. A hoverbike would be as cool as or (whisper it) even more cool than Kid Win's hoverboard. If I came in to school on one of them, it'd be weeks before they realised that I was-- well, me.
I reluctantly concluded that I'd go for something almost as cool, but probably a lot more useful -- a Bag of Holding. They normally cost one mana to cast, so I'd need three Tinker counters to make one, but I'd need leather from some strange beast I'd have to go planeswalking to find if I wanted to use 'normal' quality materials. Since I'd be using cow leather, along with some mana to make up the difference, I'd be working under a malus and would need five tokens. Since the Bag of Holding on the card was a messenger bag, and I wanted a satchel, I'd have to take an extra hit to the difficulty to modify the card. Overall, I needed six Tinker tokens. The first one I could get without any materials by planning the build, so I did that in the Meticulous Archive. I had some very nice schematics sketched up by the time I was sure that the Undersiders would be conscious.
Lisa Wilbourn opened the door to the Undersider's Lair and hugged me. "I didn't say this at the time, but thank you! Thank you so so much!" She kept hugging me.
I patted her head and said what I hoped were soothing words.
When she finally pulled back I asked the most pressing question: "Are you okay?"
She smiled sadly, "I'll live. I'm better than I expected to be. My Power is telling me you helped with that, too. So thanks again."
"Yes, thank you," said a male voice behind her, "If you hadn't saved her we would have been stuck looking for a housemate to pay her share of the rent. It would have been awful."
I looked over Lisa's shoulder to see a vaguely effeminate young man with pale blue eyes and curly black hair and wearing expensive clothes. Before I could formulate a response, Lisa turned to him and said, "Really, Alec? You do realise that I am your landlord now? Are you sure you want to go there?"
"Seeing as I need to flee the city," said 'Alec', which seemed to be Regent's civilian name, "You're not going to be my landlord much longer," and he walked off in a huff.
"You're the landlord now?" I asked, "Who was your landlord?"
"Come on in," said Lisa, ushering me inside, "And it used to be Coil. But his sad failure to follow basic computer security protocols, like locking your computer screen before you get tased, means that in a fit of remorse he handed over all his earthly belongings to me."
"Wow," I said, "Was that before or after he decided to chop off all his fingers?"
"After, I think," said Lisa lightly, "He was very remorseful. Would you like a drink?"
So, Lisa had stolen Coil's empire. Well, his ill-gotten gains; the full crime empire itself would need mercenaries to keep, and Lisa admitted, without prompting, that she didn't want to try her luck against me, having seen how my other enemies had fared, so she'd be dissolving that part of it. The biggest of her wins was 'Fortress Construction', a company that did a lot of construction work around Brockton Bay. It was about as corrupt as you would expect, and more than one gang owed Coil for their fake Endbringer shelter secret bases. And for the listening devices his workers had carefully planted in them.
"He was collecting data on all the gangs. I think he planned to go public at some point, expose them and let the PRT, police, and lawyers do all the hard work. He spent years preparing to bring them down and take over the bay, and you destroyed all that work in a couple of weeks. It was hilarious."
"Yes, ha ha," said Alec bitterly from the couch, not looking from the loud computer game he was playing
"Okay," I said, "It seems like someone would have preferred it if I'd let Coil torture Lisa to death. Care to clarify?"
Alec threw his hands up in the air, sending the controller flying, "Look. I'm not being completely unreasonable here. I'm glad that Tattles isn't dead, sure, but Coil was protecting me from my father. There was a reason I was working for him, you know. This was a good gig, and now I have to go on the run again."
"Suck it up, Alec," snapped Lisa, "It was only a matter of time before you pissed Coil off enough that he'd go after you."
"Bah," said Alec, "Some of us can tell when we're driving someone into a murderous rage, you know."
"Um," I interrupted, "Your father?"
Alec, glared at me, got up, and stalked out of the room.
Lisa winced, "His father is-- Look, Alec has a lot of damage. His father is a real piece of work. It's not Alec's fault, but his father is Heartbreaker."
"Wow! The Canadian Master asshole with the whole harem thing?"
"European; he moved to Canada at some point before Alec was born. But yeah, lots of slave wives and slave kids. Lots of abuse. Believe me, whatever game Heartbreaker is playing, it isn't 'happy families'. And Alec ran away, and his daddy wants him back."
"Hmm."
Grue sat down facing me, a bowl of yogurt in his hand. "For the record, I'm glad that Lisa isn't dead, but Coil was doing stuff for me, too. He was helping me fight for guardianship over my sister from our mother. Now I need a new plan."
Okay, so these guys are villains. I got it. It didn't stop me from being a little sarcastic, "You want your sister to join a supervillain team? Why would anyone try to fight that?"
Grue snarled at me, and I raised my hands in apology, "Sorry, that wasn't fair of me. But the Undersiders were working for Coil for, what, a year? You're telling me that an honest-to-god Mastermind, with Thinker support," I nodded to Lisa, "Couldn't work out how to transfer custody of a girl to her brother? Just how rich is your mother?"
"She's-- she's a deadbeat addict," said Grue.
"Then why--"
"Coil was never going to close the deal," said Lisa to Grue, "He was using Aisha to control you; once you had custody then a lot of his leverage would be gone."
Grue surged to his feet, spilling yogurt on his shirt, "What?!"
"It's on his computer--"
"I'll kill him! I'll--"
"SIT DOWN," I said, rising to my feet, bringing me a clear head shorter than the powerfully built man. I flew a little higher in the air to make up the difference. It was closer than I'd like, but Grue decided to sit down rather than break his fist on my face. "Lisa, you now have Coil's resources. Can you help?"
"I already planned to," said Lisa, "Killing Coil wouldn't have made things any easier, though, Brian."
"Sorry. Thanks," said Brian, nodding to Lisa.
"I almost hate to ask about why you and Rachel worked for Coil," I said, retaking me seat.
"Rachel just wants to work with dogs; Coil helped make that happen. As for me, I had a gun put to my head and I idiotically thought that being useful would keep me safe from him."
"Ouch."
"So, yes. I was planning on recruiting my friends, offering them the same deal that Coil did. Protecting Alec might be a bit tricky though."
"Well, I've been asked to not capture any more gangs in Brockton Bay this week," I said, thinking out loud, "No-one ever said that I couldn't have a quick weekend break in Canada..."
Lisa laughed, "You are a prototypical cape," she said, "Scary, powerful, and always looking for a fight."
That made me pause. I wasn't that bad, surely? I mean, okay, I had enjoyed putting the Empire in their place, and taking on Coil's mercenaries had been invigorating, despite the lack of challenge, and, well, I had been disappointed when Miss Militia told me that the Merchants were off-limits, but that didn't make me a cape cape, right? I'd never sought out conflict and excitement before-- you know.
I mentally dismissed the thought. I was fine.
"Anyway," I said, "I'd need to talk to some people. I'm not going to just fly over there and punch him or something." Why did that make me feel disappointed? Unimportant.
"Right," said Lisa, nodding, "Not punching him is good. But if you can stop Heartbreaker, that would be a weight off a lot of people's minds."
"Got it. Talking of punching or not punching people..."
Lisa sat back, looking afraid and alarmed, "Oh, no no no, I'm not going to be causing you any trouble! Promise!"
"You have just put yourself in charge of the largest parahuman gang in Brockton Bay," I pointed out with a laugh.
"Hey! The New Wave and PRT are both bigger than us!" said Lisa.
"We're not a gang," said Grue calmly, "We're a team."
"Look, as long as you don't go around murdering people, doing hate crimes, or whatever, I'll let the PRT worry about you."
"Thank you," said Lisa with a sigh, "I'm pretty sure I can run Fortress Construction for a profit even without the crimes, and maybe we'll be looking for a few mercenary jobs outside of the Bay when the team get restless." She grinned fiercely, "We could show Faultline how it's done."
"Well, if you can make things better for the Bay, I'll feel a lot better about giving you guys a pass."
I won't say that it was the most comfortable conversation I've ever had, but I really didn't want to be anyone's judge, jury, and executioner. Things had just gotten a little out of hand after I let, no, commanded Yuriko to assassinate Lung. So, having a cordial relationship with a bunch of criminals wasn't a bad thing. Lisa even assured me that she owed me many favours, and seemed to actually mean it.
I called in one of those favours straight away. Lisa was doubtless the best person to speak to about getting land in the Bay for putting down The Great Henge. When I explained what I wanted she nodded seriously and said, "Give me a week and I'll make it happen." I gave her six Treasure bags full of dollars, and thanked her for her time.
Working with the Undersiders was so much easier than the other gangs.
I declined staying for food, much to the relief of everyone involved, and headed home. It was a nice day, so I walked.
About half way home, I got a call.
"Hiya, Dragon, what's up?"
"Good morning, Walker," said Dragon cheerfully, "I just wanted to thank you again for your help with Ellisburg."
"No problem," I said, "How are the elk getting on?"
"They are slightly less homicidal than they were yesterday," said Dragon, "We'll see if their hatred lasts; I'm hopeful."
"And several thousand homicidal elk are easier to deal with than Nilbog's creations?"
"By a very significant margin," confirmed Dragon, "Which is why we are grateful. And why I've sent you a thank-you present." She hung up on me.
"Wait, what?" Home was coming into view, and there was a van waiting outside, studiously ignoring the throng of reporters that had gathered around my home when news of Ellisburg got out. I really needed to do something about them. I mean, I had some pretty interesting creatures I could summon; maybe I could scare them off? A thought for later.
"Uh, hello," I said to the delivery driver, who brightened up at the sight of me.
"Ms Herbert?" he asked, holding out a clipboard.
"It's Hebert, but yes," I replied, taking it.
"Sorry 'bout that. Delivery for ya."
The delivery were four boxes, all different sizes. First was a shiny new computer, complete with accessories, second was a monitor for my computer, and then there was a math textbook, I laughed at that, and finally was a actual Dragon-phone. Latest model, of course. The most desirable smartphone on the market, hugely expensive, and this one was given to me by Dragon herself. It started to ring as soon as I powered it up after inserting my SIM card.
"Dragon!" I said, "This is wonderful! Thank you!"
"No problem, Walker," replied Dragon, "These are from me, and The Guild, as a 'thank you' for resolving the Ellisburg situation, or at least making it resolvable. I've preloaded some software on the computer that you might find useful. And taken the liberty of upgrading your internet access."
"I can't thank you enough," I said, "And it makes me even more embarrassed because I was going to ask for a favour..."
"Oh?"
"I'm thinking of taking out Heartbreaker, and was hoping for tips."
That lead to a long conversation, and then a group call, and then an even larger group call, and a few jokey comments about me having to 'take a break', and some more stuff, and then I was promised an emailed information packet and I had a provisional, 'go ahead'. It turned out that the only reason that Heartbreaker didn't have a kill order was because the authorities didn't want to send him more slaves. Mind control is scary, and I could see why 'not Mastering people' was one of the unwritten rules.
The reason that it was 'unwritten' rather than 'actual law' was because of edge cases and occasionally the authorities needed to employ Masters themselves. Such as, for example, against Heartbreaker. Just knocking him out and bringing him in would be a recipe for disaster. Killing him would leave a lot of parahumans that Heartbreaker had tortured into triggering and kept under a tight leash then being free to cause even more harm. Not that I would have killed Heartbreaker. Or at least I hope I wouldn't.
I wasn't going to kill him, but Narwhal, leader of Canada's leading hero cape team (and a top hero in her own right), persuaded me that Mastering Heartbreaker was necessary. Only he could disarm all the traps that his death or absence would leave. I didn't like it, but I had the explicit word of Narwhal and Director Costa-Brown that I could do so without reprisal or condemnation. Much like Max Anders, Heartbreaker had violated the unwritten rules and lost their protection. And he would be treated far better than he treated his slaves
I thanked everyone for their time, and read my data packet on Heartbreaker and his 'family'. He didn't have a son called 'Alec', but he did have one called 'Jean-Paul' who was missing and who had a strong resemblance to Regent.
Heartbreaker lived somewhere close to Montreal, and would be a couple of hours' flight-time away, if I included a getting-lost allowance in my timings. I looked to the clock. Two-thirty.
I was hungry. Half an hour for food, a couple of hours flight, a couple of hours to find him, half an hour to deal with Heartbreaker, teleport back? Dad and I had a thing at seven--
No, this wasn't my first rodeo. Dealing with Heartbreaker would be quick; dealing with the Canadian authorities afterwards would take ages. And, well, maybe the people who were hinting that I should slow down and take a break had a point, despite the jokes. Fine. I'd take things slow. I'd deal with Heartbreaker tomorrow.
Jehan delivered the leather and thread I'd need for my Bag of Holding that afternoon. He stayed for a quick chat, but he had a date and I wasn't going to keep him from preparing for that. Instead I started Tinkering, and made some good progress before my Dad came in from work, and I showered and dressed up in my nicest hoodie, and we went out to supper. Dad had struggled on whether we should bring Teetoo with us, but he was on the fence and Teetoo was firmly on the side of the fence that had her Tinkering workshops, so we left her behind with money for takeaway.
We drove through the nice parts of town until we reached a large three-storey house with unusually large windows on the top floors.
Dad parked next to cars much nicer than ours. I made a mental note: Tinker up a nice car. I could just buy one, I supposed, but my Tinkered cars were all combat-rated and I wanted Dad to be safe. I thought about Tinkering him a motorcycle, but no. Unacceptably dangerous, even with Tinkertech. A car it was.
We walked up the garden path, knocked on the door, and were welcomed by Carol Dallon.
This was something I'd planned in advance when I met Panacea again at my Power testing. When our discussion revealed that I could heal neurological issues, which Panacea could not, she went from an irritable and sometimes sullen teenager to-- okay, a slightly less irritable and sullen teenager. It turned out that her adopted father had depression, the meds weren't great and he wasn't good at taking them when he should even then. She asked for a favour, and I didn't hesitate to say, 'yes'. She'd saved my life, after all.
Carol was a member of the New Wave superhero group, the biggest team of good guys inside Brockton Bay besides the PRT, and was also a high-profile lawyer. She accepted the bottle of wine that Dad gave her with thanks and smiled and led us through to the living room, where Victoria, and her father, Mark, were waiting.
"Hi Vicky," I said, exchanging light hugs with her as Dad shook Mark Dallon's hand.
"We're just waiting for Amy now," said Carol, "She's so dedicated she's still at the hospital. Vicky, dear, would you mind?"
Vicky left to bring Amy, and Dad and Carol started chatting about life in the Bay, and the recent changes. New Wave were the Empire's most dedicated enemies, after they had welcomed the murderer of 'Fleur', Carol's sister-in-law, into their gang with open arms. That murder had effectively stymied the growth of the New Wave maskless-hero paradigm. No-one talked about it, of course, but the undercurrent of the conversation was the vindictive glee that the Dallons were feeling as the Empire thugs were being systematically rounded up and imprisoned, now that they were without cape protection and some mysterious person was exposing all the corrupt officials who had previously let them get away with murder.
The nature of that heroic individual was discussed, with speculation on whether they were a Thinker or a Stranger. I stayed quiet and mentally thanked Yuriko for her hard work.
I didn't have much to contribute, and the adults were mostly ignoring me anyway, so I perused at their bookshelves and judged them for their taste in books. It wasn't too bad, to be honest, but the books looked mostly untouched. Maybe they didn't have time for reading, but a book without a creased spine was a book that wasn't appreciated.
I was just working out if it'd be rude for me to take one and start reading, which would be far better than me pulling out my Dragon-phone and playing with that, when Vicky came in with Amy, who was still in her Panacea costume.
"Well," demanded Panacea, before she'd even said, 'hello', "Have you healed Dad yet?"
"Huh?" I said, "Oh, right! I, er, wasn't going to offer until, well--"
"What's this?" asked Carol, quite forcefully, glaring at Panacea, "Amy this is not how we greet guests."
"Mum, Taylor can heal neurological issues. Like Dad's depression."
Carol turned to me, wide-eyed. Mark perked up a bit, too, but was less emphatic about it.
I squared my shoulders, tapped my Khalni Gem for white mana, walked up to Mark Dallon, and offered my hand. "Do you consent to parahuman healing?"
Curing depression was interesting. Mark was howling with laughter at first, and then giggling with glee and dancing and hugging his wife and daughter and it took far longer for him to settle down than my other patients so far. Still, everyone was happy, even if supper was a bit cold by the time we sat down to eat.
"I have no idea how long it will last," I said to Mark as we started on our appetisers, "Let me know if you ever need a top-up, it isn't a problem."
"Thank you," said Mark with a bright smile and a nod, "I'll do that."
Amy reached out and grabbed her adoptive-father's hand and looked into the distance for a second before letting it go, "Looks permanent to me. You do good work. Thanks."
I shrugged, "I just pump in the mana and hope, really, but you're welcome." I was getting better at it, but at the moment it felt like I was a very inefficient healer. I was confident that with more practice I could do a neater job.
"Are you planning on healing at the hospital, Taylor?" asked Carol, "I'm sure that Amy would be happy to share the load with you if you do."
"That was the plan," I said, "She said that there's a lot of neurological problems at Brockton General, because she can't do brains, so I was going to see if I could clear some of them up, and then I was going to set up a thing to see if a hospital in Boston needed a healer. I didn't want to steal Amy's thunder."
Amy looked conflicted, but said, "You're okay; I wouldn't mind."
"Maybe we'd see more of you about the house if Taylor took on some of your shifts," said Carol, and Amy looked less than pleased at that but didn't say anything. Hmm -- maybe I wouldn't need to commute to Boston to get a healer's rep...
The conversation flowed slightly better with Mark engaged and Victoria contributing, while Amy and I mostly just ate. I did get dragged into it, though, when Carol said, "--And have you considered your own future, Taylor? You have a lot of opportunities, you know."
The way that everyone was looking at me made me realise that this was the point of the whole meal invitation. I swallowed and said, "Well, I've got some cash thanks to the Hookwolf, Coil, and Oni Lee bounties, so I've got some time to make up my mind," everyone nodded at that, "But honestly, the best offer I've had so from was from the PRT. I Tinkered an object for Armsmaster that gave him noctis-capabilities. He's testing it now; if they're happy with it then PRT have said that they'd pay generously for me to give permanent boosts to their capes, or make some of their troopers sort-of capes."
"You gave the Beardmaster Noctisdom?" said Vicky, "Wow, you must be his favourite person ever! It's a shame you didn't sell the ability -- he'd pay a fortune for that."
I laughed awkwardly, "I needed to prove that the whole thing was safe," I explained, "And he was very keen to give it a try. I'm sure that there are other people who would want it, too. Selling Powers seems to be a big business. I might as well get my cut of the pie."
"'Big business'?" said Mark with a furrowed brow, "You think someone is selling Powers, even after Teacher was Birdcaged?"
"Sure," I said, taking a quick bite to eat while everyone looked at me intently. I swallowed quickly, "There's someone out there selling Powers. To heroes, wards, and villains. No idea who, but there's clearly a market -- I've seen seven people in the Bay with purchased Powers so far."
"'Wards'," said Vicky before anyone else could say anything, "There's a Ward who bought their Power?! Who?"
"Sorry," I said, "That's close to breaking the unwritten rules." I mean, if Gallant hadn't mentioned where his Powers came from to his sometimes-girlfriend, I wasn't going to tell her.
"Careful, Vicky dear," said Carol, nodding to me, "Let's not open that particular can of worms."
"Sorry, Mum," said Vicky, "But it's just so interesting! Whoever is doing this sold Powers to villains?"
"Well, I don't know if the people they sold to were villains at the time of purchase," I said carefully, "but I plan on focussing on selling to the PRT and the Guild. Oh! And New Wave, if you're interested, of course."
"We might be," said Carol, "But we'd prefer to have you join us, dear, if you're interested. You'd be a good fit -- you're maskless like us, you fly and we have a lot of experience working with fliers, and we can do a lot to help you with merchandise and legal support. There's a lot to being an independent cape, and we can help with all of it."
"Thanks, Ms Dallon," I said, "It's a lot to think about. The idea of being photographed for posters and stuff, though?" I shuddered. I wasn't faking.
"Nonsense," said Carol Dallon briskly, "You're a good-looking girl, you'll learn to love it in no time."
I glared angrily at her and said nothing. I hated it when people lied to me.
Carol seemed to realise that she'd misstepped, but didn't manage to recover before Dad proved that most heroes did not wear capes and deftly directed the conversation to New Wave's most recent adventures.
We said our goodbyes after supper, the Dallons had some patrolling to do and I was happy enough to leave an increasingly uncomfortable conversation.
"It was a serious offer, kiddo," said Dad as he drove us back home, "If you want to be a cape, they could help a lot. I know that you don't want to join the Protectorate or the Wards; New Wave would be less constraining. And they have a lot of reasons to want you to join up; I could negotiate you a pretty darn good contract."
"Thanks, Dad," I said, "But I'm doing okay right now. And, well, I'm going to be a planeswalker eventually. I don't know when, but I get the feeling it isn't that far off. I don't want to join a group and then ditch them straight away."
I realised I'd said something wrong when he went silent.
"um," I said.
"So soon?" he asked, despair in his voice.
"Not-- not yet. I was-- I was thinking I could hold it off, for a while. Not be a, you know, high-school dropout. But, um, university? I was thinking I might see if I could get into something on Kamigawa? They have higher tech than us, it'd help with my Tinkering, and-- I'd come back, you know. I'll always come back."
"Thank you for that, Little Owl," said Dad, relaxing slightly.
Once home I bid my father goodnight and headed into the Stash to Tinker, chatting with Teetoo who was still working on her first Tinker-helper, a Workshop Assistant. It'd a cute little metal bug construct with two main hands and two little hands who'd help around Mishra's workshop, giving us an extra counter when we were doing work it could help with. We'd decided that the Workshop would probably be the place seeing the most use, and we had materials to hand that would make the Assistant relatively easy to construct. It cost three generic mana, and we didn't quite have the best metals, so it'd cost us eight Tinker counters overall.
Teetoo and I worked on it until she was tired and went to bed, at which point I moved on to my highest priority job -- my Bag of Holding.
Sunday 6th February 2011
I duplicated my Darksteel Plate.
Most of my lands had been tapped for Treasure, but I tapped my four Gold-Forge Garrisons for golems, because you never knew when you might want some golems to do some heavy lifting. I set them to patrolling the stash. Or at least the corridors that were wide enough for them to go down.
My new Scheme was My Laughter Echoes, which was an ongoing Scheme. When I decided to end it, whatever the daily Scheme was activated that turn would activate twice. Handy.
My Magic Mirror drew two cards, Goblin Mountaineer and Frenetic Efreet. I was uninterested in both cards.
My Power, though came through for me as always. Verdant Confluence. Another card that could return cards from my graveyard, but this one was better: for four generic and two green (well, three generic and two green, thanks to my Schemes), I had three picks of three options: give a creature two +1/+1 counters (boring), search my library for a basic land card and put it onto the battlefield (nice, I suppose, even if the land was tapped), or return a target permanent card from the graveyard to my hand (pulling three cards from my graveyard was a winner).
For my land I played the Rimewood Falls, my first snowland. It created a chilly waterfall into the Underground Sea, complete with small ice floes, but it was on a far shore and you couldn't see the ice or feel the chill from the Idyllic Beach / Tolarian Academy side.
My new turn activities resolved, I had a decision to make: when would I tackle Heartbreaker. It'd only take a couple of hours to fly there, and I didn't think that the Canadian authorities would be too happy if I woke people up to deal with the aftermath of his enslaving, so I decided to go after breakfast. Which meant that I could keep Tinkering away at my Bag of Holding. I was at four of my six needed counters by the time I needed to get started on breakfast.
"Dad, I'd feel more comfortable if you took this spare suit of Darksteel Plate armour and let me equip it on you. No-one will see it, promise."
Dad nodded in agreement, and it was done. One more weight off my mind.
Flying was still new to me. I'd packed myself a nice lunch, equipped my Robe of Stars, tapped a selection of mana from my moxen and the Tolarian Academy, rechecked the information pack on the Heartbreakers, and then set off. My first stop was the PRT Merchandise shop.
Then I flew at about five hundred feet altitude, as per the PRT's guidelines (their brochure had handy guide telling me what various things like cars and roads should look like at that height). It was pretty cold but the view was magnificent. Finding my way wasn't hard, I just followed the I-89 north until I hit Montreal.
The Guild knew that Heartbreaker would be in Montreal somewhere, but they weren't sure where. It would be somewhere high class or luxurious, and amid a lot of innocent people. Thankfully, I had a plan: I summoned my Spotter Thopter. It was my copy of Prakash's pre-confoam prototype -- I'd never gotten around to copying the others -- but it was fine for this purpose. I had it scan the city while I focussed my attention on my new unsummonable cards.
I was looking for anyone with the surname 'Vasil', as that would indicate his children or 'wives', but I was mostly looking for-- There! 'Heartbreakers' Lair'. Tap for one red or one black, enters tapped. The card showed a large mansion, and I knew it was somewhere near the middle of Montreal. I summoned my Spellbook, opened it to the right page, photographed the card so that I could send it to Dragon (that took some mid-air juggling, but I was able to catch the book before it reached the ground), and waited thirty seconds for her to identify the building and give me GPS coordinates for it, and a map showing its location from the air. It took her another thirty seconds to send me a plan of the building, along with the most probable location of the master bedroom.
Yeah, my Power was impressive, but Dragon was downright scary.
I floated down to the relevant windows and tapped on the glass. I kept tapping (and watching through the Spotter to make sure that no-one made a run for it) until a naked woman pulled back the curtains. That let me see Heartbreaker, who was lounging on the bed. It let me see a lot more of Heartbreaker than I had ever wanted to see, to be honest. There was another naked woman next to him, and everyone was staring at me.
Things happened fast. First, I cast Invoke the Winds on Nikos Vasil, using my Tolarian Academy mana. The window burst inwards, showering the room with broken glass. The woman who opened the curtains shrieked and fell back to the floor, bleeding. Heartbreaker was lifted off the bed and surrounded by a tornado that closed in on him. The other woman in his bed snatched a gun from the bedside table and started shooting at my head with impressive accuracy. I'd had plans to use my healing ability to heal through the damage from Heartbreaker's slaves while the spell took hold, but, um, that didn't work. My Mask of Law and Grace heated up when I tried, which reminded me, yeah, I was a black and red affinity creature, and so it was Protecting me from myself. Oops. Thankfully the woman ran dry fairly quickly; brute-killer revolvers didn't hold many bullets.
It was a good job I was tough, or that could have been nasty. As it was, I had the option of either burning a couple of life points to heal the damage, or going through the rest of the day with a bruised and bleeding forehead. I spent the life points.
I waited until Heartbreaker was dumped unceremoniously onto the bed. I flew into the room and healed the woman who had been cut by the glass shards from the window. There were pounding feet as people bashed down the door and charged into the room. There were adults (women), a surprising number of whom were armed, and children, some of whom were armed, and some of whom focussed on me, presumably trying to attack me with their Powers.
"Enough!" shouted Heartbreaker, and everyone immediately stopped attacking me and looked to him for direction. "She's under control. Leave. I will deal with her. Emma, Sylvie, you too."
There were a few questioning glances towards him, and angry glances towards me, but they obeyed and left.
"How can I serve you, Mistress?" asked Heartbreaker. He was waggling his eyebrows suggestively. I was surprised by how much effort it took not to put my fist through his face.
I had Vasil call Narwhal, and instructed him to be a loyal and obedient servant to The Guild. Director Costa-Brown had wanted him as well for some reason; she implied that he'd be useful and that it'd be wise to get him away from Canada and most of his victims, but Narwhal had been firm: he needed to make amends in Canada first, they could talk about loaning him out to other countries later. I didn't like the idea of people being traded like horses, but it was more dignity than Heartbreaker had given his victims, so I wasn't feeling too guilty. At least both parties were trustworthy hands and would make sure his talents were only used for good.
Before I left Heartbreaker to start deconstructing his harem and sending his children out to be apprehended by The Guild, I recorded a quick video, and then left them to it.
Flying may be a wonderful and liberating way to travel, but teleportation trumps it easily.
Jean-Paul 'Alec' Vasil, also known as Regent, was playing Call of Duty on his console and ignoring everything that was happening around the house. He'd packed already. He just needed to leave, but, well, he hadn't been lying to Walker. He did like it here, and it had been a very easy gig. The other Undersiders were tolerant of his faults, just as he was able to put up with theirs. It was nice.
"Get gud, asshole," shouted Alec over chat as he no-scoped a newb, and then promptly died when Lisa walked in front of the screen.
"Fucking hell, Lisa!" shouted Alec in feigned rage, "I know you can't get enough of me, but you have to learn to share!"
"Fuck you, Alec," said Lisa kindly, holding out her laptop, "You need to see this."
"What the fuck?"
"Just watch."
Alec logged out and turned his attention to the screen when Lisa pressed play.
Alec could not believe his eyes. His father, was kneeling in front of the camera. He was wearing a 'I [heart emoji] the PRT' T-shirt. Nikos Vasil had never knelt in front of anyone since he triggered, and his feelings towards the PRT was unprintable.
"Hello, Jean-Paul," said Heartbreaker, "I've been ordered to record this video for you. I hereby disown you. You are not my son, and I never want to see you again. Goodbye." He then looked at the person holding the phone being used to record the message, and said, "Will that do, mistress?"
The video stopped.
Alec could only gape at it.
"Walker sure works fast, doesn't she," said Lisa.
He stared at the screen for an age before bursting into near-hysterical laughter. "The bitch Mastered the Master! Oh fuck me, that's rich!"
He could stay in Brockton Bay. He could stay with his frie-- With the Undersiders. The only problem is that he'd be staying in the same town as the bitch who brought his father to his knees the day after she learned his name.
He was so fucking screwed, all he could do was laugh.
Barry was not a happy camper. Things were falling apart, and no-one could see what was right in front of their fucking faces: if the Empire didn't stick together then the fucking ABB would tear them all apart.
So 'Commandant Auerbach' should stop spouting that Nazi nonsense and get with the program, that fucker Brown should stop whining about 'markets' and 'supply lines' and actually start forking out the goods that the Empire troops desperately needed, and if he found out what hole the cowardly cunt Emerson was hiding in, Barry would happily rip him a new asshole. Now wasn't the time for hiding, it was time for action!
Things had gone downhill ever since Hookwolf was captured. The man was smart, and knew what was up. The others respected Brad, he'd had Kaiser's ear, and he'd managed to help steer the Empire to greatness. Of course it all went to shit when the man was captured, and of course the rest of the Empire's capes couldn't fight their way out of a wet paper bag and screwed up freeing him from the PRT transport. Even Stormtiger and Cricket could only do so much by themselves. Hookwolf would never have let things get so bad.
Barry wasn't Hookwolf, but he wasn't going to give up what they'd bled for without a fight. He'd--
There was an Asian cunt walking down River Street, plain as day! Just looking around, enjoying the goddam view! Kaiser's death had only announced yesterday, and now chinks thought that they could swan down River Street!
Barry was not going to put up with this shit. He slapped Phil's shoulder, then Mike's and Paul's, and they moved. Mark headed to the Iron Cross without needing to be told while he, Mike, and Paul homed in on the stupid bitch. They knew what to do, even when their so-called leaders couldn't find their assholes with both hands!
The cunt saw them coming. She got this wide-eyed look straight from a cartoon, and froze, and then ran. Too late for that, bitch!
Barry and his mates were chasing down the chink to teach her a lesson, and other good men were only a few steps behind them, but she was faster on her feet than she looked. Not fast enough, though.
She rounded the corner, but she was out of time. Paul was the lightest of them, nimble and speedy, and he soon caught up with her. Grabbed her jacket, pulled her back and slammed her into the wall.
She took the hit well, really well. Barry was suddenly alert; this bitch might be able to fight. It wouldn't do her any good against four of Hookwolf's finest, but if she had a knife--
Barry had almost caught up with her when he tripped and went flying.
He was back on his feet, fast, and saw what had tripped him. Or rather, who: Velocity. The bitch had the devil's own luck and led them straight to a PRT patrol.
Velocity wasn't a big prob-- the bastard just punched Barry in the eye! Velocity was weaving between Barry's mates, and he didn't hit hard, but he knew where to hit and--
The girl had gotten free of Paul, shedding her jacket and scrambling away--
They needed to retreat. Velocity by himself was a pain to fight, but you could tough it out. The problem was the PRT never patrolled alone-- Barry was blown off his feet and smashed into a wall by a sound that was so LOUD.
Triumph. They needed to get out there. More PRT would be coming, and there weren't any Empire capes any more to help them out. Barry just needed to shake off the concussion and get back to his feet, but Velocity just kicked him in the face and then Triumph was facing him and opened his mouth--
Yuriko assured Velocity that she was fine, and very grateful for the rescue, and of course she wouldn't be so silly as to go down River Street by herself again. He finally let her go so that he could work with Triumph and Miss Militia in processing the dozen Empire thugs that had been drawn into her trap. A good haul, all told, and it was interesting to see what faces were amongst them. Cracks were definitely showing.
She'd need to head back in a few hours in whiteface and see what she could learn, and where pressure needed to be applied next. The Empire still had a lot of assets, so maybe she should help relieving them of those and handing them over to more worthy groups...
She'd need to be fast, Taylor needed her this evening.
The last few weeks had felt hectic. From the point when I gave Yuriko the go-ahead to assassinate Lung, I'd been reacting to everything happening around me. I now had a moment to breathe. The gangs of Brockton Bay were almost entirely broken. Yuriko was subtly helping the authorities mop up the non-cape members of the ABB and the Empire, and the Merchant's days were numbered; the PRT didn't need my help for dealing with them. Tattletale was managing the collapse of Coil's criminal empire.
Things were looking good. It was time to reassess my course. I pulled out my first Powers notebook, and took another look at the list I'd drawn up a month ago.
1. Deal with the Trio.
2. Help Dad
3. Help Brockton Bay
4. Save people and give them hope
5. Be a hero
Well. I'd started, at least. Item number 1 was done, as far as I was concerned. They wouldn't hurt me again. I mean, sure, I could do more, like, I don't know, see if Emma's psychosis was curable-- NO. I needed to walk away.
2. Help Dad. Well, he was happier, with the tanker out of the way. That was good. He did kind of have a target on his back now, thanks to being my father. While the Oracle would alert me if he was in danger, giving him a suit of Darksteel Plate eased my mind.
3. Help Brockton Bay. I was giving myself four out of five stars for this one. No more ABB, no more Empire, no more Coil. No more tanker. One more tourist attraction to offset the loss of the capes, and another on the way. A work in progress, yes, but I felt that I was moving in the right direction.
4. Save people and give them hope. Could I really call it a failure if I never even tried? I mean, sure, I'd saved lives. Indirectly. And maybe I'd brought some hope to the people of Brockton Bay, but I was starting think I could do more. A lot more. I was powerful; I should use that. I started jotting names in the margin: Slaughterhouse 9. The Butcher. The Machine Army. The Elite. Grey Boy bubbles. The Fallen. ENDBRINGERS. I double-underlined that last one. Maybe I was being ambitious, but I really felt I could help with some of these threats. I'd had plenty of cards that looked like they could do something terminal to even Endbringers, and I was now tough enough that I stood a chance of surviving in their presence long enough to cast them.
I could do this.
I could. But the Engbringers would wait. They weren't doing any damage until they attacked. I'd be there, ready and waiting for them, when they did. There was no point hunting them down -- it'd waste resources, and every day between now and when they attacked was another day for me to become stronger.
As for the others, I shouldn't be overconfident. I should do the research, don't get arrogant, and knock them off the list one-by-one.
I looked at line number 5. 'Be a hero'. I scoffed and scrawled a line through it. That ship had sailed when Yuriko drove the Squire's Lightblade through Lung's heart. It had been a nice dream, but not being a hero didn't mean I couldn't help.
I turned to a blank page on my latest notebook, and wrote 'RULES' at the top. I then crossed that out and wrote 'GUIDELINES'. Better.
1. Respect my creatures. They are people. Don't use and forget (unless they're golems).
2. Don't summon creatures if I don't need them. There were a lot of creatures that had very useful abilities. Bloodwater Entity, Bringer of the Black Dawn, and so on. I could summon them, use them, and Dismiss them, easily. I could do it several times a turn if I wanted. I wasn't in so much of a hurry that I needed to do that. The more I treated my creatures as disposable tools, the harder it would be to follow item 1. So I could summon the Bringer of the Black Dawn, but I'd need to find out what it ate, what it wanted, where it came from and so on first.
3. Follow the Unwritten Rules. I was less vulnerable now to violations of those rules than I had been, but that didn't mean that they weren't important for other people.
4. Don't be a bully.
I stared at my impromptu list. I wasn't happy with it, but it'd do for a start.
Did I need more lands? I had Mnemonic Deluge ready and waiting to cast Reshape the Earth. Thirty more lands. I scanned my job list. Having more mana, or more Treasures, wouldn't help meaningfully with any of my goals. I already had plenty of both.
I shrugged. I'd save the Mnemonic Deluge for something useful.
There was another option. I could benefit from having mana in other colours than blue. If I didn't want thirty more lands, there was a thing called a Gemstone Array. It would let me turn my academy mana into half as much mana of any colour. That was pretty useful, and as it was an artefact, Teetoo and I could Tinker a gemstone array if we could get our hands on the materials.
Unfortunately, I didn't happen to have a diamond the size of a beach ball amongst my Treasures. Nor did I have huge gemstones that could surround the central piece. The obvious answer would be to Tinker up a machine to make the gemstones, but I couldn't find one of them in my Tinkerable items list.
It was a shame, but I'd have to find a different solution to even out my mana.
Tinker Tinker.
Between us, Tee and I had the Workshop Assistant complete by suppertime. It cheerfully whirred around Mishra's workshop, tidying stuff up and learning the layout while she ate with Yuriko, me, and Dad.
After supper, Tee went out to explore the city and have some fun at one of the arcades on the Boardwalk, under Perrette's watchful eye. Sure, Tee was a 5/7 with indestructibility and hexproof, but there would be other teenagers there, and there were lots of ways to hurt people. Ask me how I know. Or rather, don't.
While she was doing that, Yuriko donned her ninja gear and descended into the Stash, meeting up with me at the Academy complex. There, at the foot of the bridge leading to Castle Ardenvale, was a dark opening.
I turned my mana to Dungeon Descent, and it was finally time to send Yuriko into the dungeon!
Only it wasn't, because I needed to pick the dungeon that Yuriko could explore first.
There were five dungeons to choose from: Lost Mine of Phandelver, Dungeon of the Mad Mage, Tomb of Annihilation, Undercity, and Baldur's Gate Wilderness.
Yuriko waited impatiently while I worked out which one I wanted to see and could explore without doing something I didn't want. The 'Tomb of Annihilation' was right out -- it was all about hurting everyone and summoning a 'God Horror' token by the end of it. It didn't even seem to be that impressive a God Horror. Pass.
'Dungeon of the Mad Mage' was better -- it didn't kill my allies and let me scry and draw cards.
'Lost Mind of Phendelver' was pretty boring. There was a path through it which wouldn't kill my allies, but it didn't do much that was actually useful to me.
'Undercity' was the same kind of deal -- slightly more useful upside, but slightly more annoying downside. The big payoff for completing that dungeon was putting a creature card on the battlefield from the top ten cards of my library. The chance of ten cards from my library actually containing a creature I'd want to summon was, based on the cards I'd seen so far, low.
'Baldur's Gate Wilderness' was the biggest dungeon by far. Most of the payoffs weren't good for me, but one was sort-of okay -- it'd boost the strength and toughness of all my creatures, including me. The problem was it was a lot of so-so rewards for a so-so payoff.
'Dungeon of the Mad Mage' it was!
I selected the dungeon and the dark hole that Yuriko was facing shimmered. She stepped through, weapon held ready, and found herself in a long, poorly-lit, low ceilinged room. The brickwork was damp, and the floor uneven, but Yuriko stalked confidently down it's length until she reached a yawning portal of swirling lights. She stepped through.
She appeared next to where I was standing, looking tired, and I gained a life point.
"That was a disappointment," she said.
I teleported Yuriko home, made sure that she was comfortable, and then returned to the Workshop to continue working on my Bag of Holding.
At the end of the turn, I tapped my Gold-Forge Garrisons for golems, and duplicated a Shield-Wall Sentinel to get another Golden Guardian/Gold-Forge Garrison. Thanks to the Tolarian Academy, I didn't need much more mana in absolute terms, but more mana in colours other than blue would be somewhat useful, and you never knew when you might need to spawn an army of golems.
As usual, I drew my Skyblinder Staff (I really needed to get a better weapon), and paid two mana for the Golden Guardian to attack me, and I thwacked it good. Only, um, it didn't die. I'd taken out most of its torso, but it still kept on coming and even managed to hit me. I was too tough for that to do any actual damage, but getting punched on the nose by a rock fist the size of freezer hurt. I mean, my hit got me twelve life points from my Lifelink, but my nose was sore.
The guardian was poised to swing forward with its other fist.
Maybe I needed to hit it harder? I hit it harder. Its head went flying and tumbling across the idyllic beach.
It was still not dead. I barely dodged the second fist.
I needed to kill this thing and my last two attempts hadn't worked, but I wasn't out of ideas yet: I hit it again. I shattered its torso with a heavy swipe through its midriff. Its arms fell to the ground and started clawing their way to me, and the legs charged me.
It still wasn't dead, dammit.
I checked my UI. Oh yes. My Darksteel Forge made all my Artefacts indestructible. Which meant in real terms, unkillable. Darn it! I might have thought of some clever solution to the problem (hitting it really hard, maybe?) but I could stretch out the end of turn only so far, and a new day started.
Monday 7th February 2011
My Scheme was When Will You Learn?, with the delightful flavour text, 'Do you not grow tired of your futility? I know I do.' It was a mood I could vibe with. The Scheme would let me pull the top card from each of my opponent's libraries, and allow me to cast them without paying the mana cost. Only, my opponents weren't planeswalkers and didn't have cards. I had no idea what this Scheme would do.
I shouldn't activate unknown Schemes. It could harm people. Maybe. It might do nothing. I really shouldn't activate it.
I activated it.
According to my Power, there were seven opponents on the battlefield: PRT, New Wave, Leet and Über, Faultline, the Merchants, the police, and the Undersiders. Each one gave me a card. Even better, it seemed to have upgraded the card to match my usual format -- these weren't as watered down as I had expected. I mean, they still weren't great, but they were better than I'd expected.
The PRT gave me, 'Boring Meeting' which was a sorcery that would normally cost three generic mana and a blue. It tapped three creatures that I controlled to draw two cards. New Wave gave me 'Basic Patrol', which cost one green and allowed a non-token creature I controlled to fight a token creature I didn't control. Leet gave me 'Cold Pizza', which could be summoned for two mana of any colour, which would draw me a card, and could be sacrificed at the cost of two more mana, to give me three life points. Faultline's card was 'Investigate Case 53s', which for two mana would allow me to scry one card and generate a Clue token which could be sacrificed, along with two mana, to draw a card. The police gave me, 'Police Car', an artefact I could (but probably shouldn't) summon. Skidmark of the Merchants gave me 'Get High', which cost two generic mana and tapped any number of creatures I controlled, stopping whatever they were doing (how were the Merchants now the most high-profile gang in Brockton Bay? Oh, right. I'd eliminated their competition). The Undersiders gave me, 'Shopping', which was a sorcery for two generic and two black, and as an additional cost to casting the spell, I could sacrifice up to three Treasure tokens; I'd draw a card for each Treasure token sacrificed this way.
My Magic Mirror drew me three cards: Silent Skimmer a nasty flying eldritch thingy, Floodwaters which could return up to two target creatures to their owner's hands or could be swapped to draw another card for two mana, and Sacrifice, which I was very happy to see.
My Power selected card was Academy Ruins, which could generate colourless mana, or be tapped for one generic and one blue mana to move an artefact card from my graveyard to the top of my library. I played that one straight away, and tapped it to put Potion of Healing at the top of my library, using mana from the Tolarian Academy. Was it weird that I was tapping the Tolarian Academy to activate what was almost certainly its own ruins? Probably. Either way, the ruins were deep in the Underground Sea, and would presumably give somewhere for the Oracle to explore when she was in the mood.
I was, as expected, flooded with a nameless desire to name my desires.
I'd been thinking about this. And as for the last few weeks, I felt that my hand was forced. It was getting close to three months since Behemoth attacked some Russian oil fields. An Endbringer would attack soon, and I needed to be ready for it.
"I want to be ready for the next Endbringer attack."
I had no idea what cards that would draw, but I was sure I'd need them.
I looked at my newly stolen cards from my allies and enemies. I made some notes, I'd need to call them. Or at least the friendly ones, and apologise. Leet could find something to eat rather than cold pizza, and Skidmark would have to soldier through the day without the idea of getting high. What was I saying? He probably had a few backup copies of that card, just in case.
Still, I liked drawing cards, so... 'Boring Meeting' -- I tapped my Gold-Forge golems, and drew two cards. I summoned Leet's cold pizza (meat feast), drew a card, ate the pizza (tasty was an understatement -- cold pizza was always good, but this was out of this world), and gained three life.
I 'Investigated Case 53s', which created a slim manilla folder that fell into my lap. I fed it mana and the folder opened to reveal a few sheets of paper and a handful of Polaroid photographs. Reading them gave me some vague hints and clues about Case 53s (a classification of parahumans by the PRT that were notable for physical deformation, amnesia, and strange powers; they were often the subject of conspiracy theories on PHO) and allowed me to scry a card and then draw a card. The hints implied that some Case 53s were not in complete control, their bodies acting autonomously and yet with some intelligence when they were unconscious. Huh.
Then I cast the 'Shopping' spell, sacrificing three Treasure tokens (out of the 215 that I had) and that got me a slim pair of shoes with a slight heel, a pair of jeans that were the right size for me but really hugged my legs, and a jacket that was far too nice for me. Oh, and three cards.
There wasn't anything special about the clothing, it all went into the wardrobe. The folder found a drawer in my desk. The box that had the cold pizza went into the bin.
As for all the cards I drew, all that got me was the Potion of Healing that I actually wanted, and Knightfisher (a bird that made fish), Bladegriff Prototype (a cool metal griffin that was the poster child of collateral damage), Kurbis, Harvest Celebrant a walking tree that could be very powerful if I put enough mana into it, and could protect other creatures with +1/+1 counters), Celestial Kirin (a flying dragon horse sprit thingy that looked cool and would absolutely massacre my friends if I was ever stupid enough to cast it), Derelict Attic-Widow's Walk which looked like it would generate rooms from a creepy mansion in my Stash, and Hammer Helper which would Master a creature for a turn.
So, in other words, a lot of duds with a couple of 'maybes' in there. You really needed to draw a lot of cards to get a good one unless you had a friendly Power helping you out. I had no idea how other planeswalkers managed.
I summoned and drank the potion of healing. It was just as tasty the second time as the first, even if the impact was far less. I still felt that my life points were too low, but I had more tools and options to recover them, so I wasn't too worried. Summoning the bottle drew me yet another card, Kithkin Shielddare. I spared it a glance. Yeah, I was getting tired of drawing cards. They were useless to me far too often.
'Derelict Attic / Widow's Walk' was a new card type for me. The card was split into two, with both sides being Enchantments that presented themselves as rooms. The attic would draw me two cards and cost me two life, and the 'Widow's Walk' would give my solo attackers a slight increase in power and Deathtouch. Since Deathtouch meant that doing any form of damage to a creature would be enough to kill them, I wasn't interested in that side of the card. The other side, though?
I could afford two life. I cast the room into the Stash and winced at the slight pain of losing two life. I also winced when I saw the cards I'd paid for with my life (points): Warren Instigator which made goblins when it attacked, and Strix Serenade which countered artefact, creature, or planeswalker spells. As I was the only one casting spells, that didn't seem to be particular useful.
I went down to the Stash and paid two mana. My Golden Guardian duly attacked me. I cast Sacrifice, and my Guardian became another Gold-Forge Garrison, and I got some black mana that I probably wasn't going to use. I was so glad that I remembered that sacrifice abilities bypassed Indestructibility.
Tinkering was amazingly satisfying. I could make impossible objects one little step at a time, and when I was done, I'd turned some cheap(ish) components into something worth far, far more.
I finished my Bag of Holding by breakfast time. It was a lovely leather satchel with neat stitching and some subtle embroidery. It had a couple of perfectly normal side-pockets, and a main compartment that could store a ridiculous amount of material without getting heavier. I could reach in and pull out whatever I wanted immediately, without needing to rummage or whatever. It did have a pretty massive downside -- the Bag's actual function. It made it so that any card I discarded went into exile rather than my graveyard; I could get them back into my hand by destroying the Bag, but unless I did that, my trick for cycling the Daggermaw Megalodon in and out of my graveyard with Disturbed Burial to farm island cards was just not going to work. I should probably have built up a supply of island cards in preparation, but I was doing okay for mana and lands at the moment. I'd survive.
Once it was late enough that I was willing to believe that even Lisa was awake, I called around my allies to let them know about the Power 'malfunction' and what I got from them.
Yes, I was hauled into the PRT to get a dressing down by Director Piggot. No, I don't want to talk about it. I apologised, and offered her a couple of +1/+1 counters to make up for it, to be given to the person of her choice. She really wanted those counters, so I got off lighter than I probably should have. Either way, a trooper called Andy Hurwell got a minor brute rating, which he was very happy about, and Director Piggot forgave me and told me to not do it again.
Carol Dallon gave her dressing-down via telephone, but as a trained lawyer she really had a way with words and I was sniffling by the end. I forgot to offer any counter compensation to her.
Lunch restored my emotional balance. I photographed the 'Investigate Case 53s' clue notes and emailed them to Faultline on PHO with an apology. I didn't get a response.
Lisa laughed when I told her what had happened, and told me to not worry about it.
When I called the number that Director Piggot had given me, and explained to the police what had happened, and then flew over to the police station and summoned the police car, and gave the brand new car to the nice policewomen, they said that they were very happy with the free car and it was a pleasure doing business with me. So at least I was a little cheerier at the end of the exercise.
I didn't bother to let Skidmark or Leet know what I'd done -- they were assholes.
Winslow High was still sending me school work, and I dutifully did my reading, did the tests, and really struggled to understand what I was expected to learn. I had very little respect for Winslow's teachers, but trying to get through the coursework without them made me appreciate that even an incompetent teacher was better than no teacher at all. At least I didn't need to worry about sabotage or attacks from my fellow classmates any more. I could look up online tutorials, and they were helpful, but manually searching for information was too slow.
Thankfully, there was a light on the horizon -- I'd finally gotten an acceptance letter from Arcadia High; I'd start there next Monday. I was actually looking forward to going back to school.
Guillaume leaned back and stretched. His hand was aching.
When he'd found himself summoned by a planeswalker, he'd envisaged a break-neck rush of combat and death. It was the most likely outcome of such a summons by a long margin. He and the rest of the troupe would be called to bestow the hero token and then attack some other planeswalker, and they'd rush in and, if they were lucky and the gods smiled on them, they might do their enemy some slight injury before their inevitable destruction. He would have been perfectly happy with such a fate -- he could spin a great story even from such an ending. It might have taken some research afterwards, but he could probably have found out with whom they were fighting, and what they were fighting for, even.
Another possibility that slipped through his mind at the time of summoning was a deadlock. He didn't dare dream of it, but a long, drawn out deadlock of ineffective attacks and a possible ignominious ending would have been perfect -- he could spin an epic comic ballad from such a thing, and comedy was the Heartfelt Troubadour's stock in trade.
Instead, he found himself part of something far greater. A new planeswalker, a child even. A new plane, with terrifying enemies that were a match for the Eldrazi or Phyrexians in the terror and destruction they represented. New powers unlike any he had heard of. New mysteries. His original self in Eldraine was already telling packed-out audiences of the evils that dwelt in Brockton Bay, and the brave young planeswalker that would stand against them. It wouldn't be long before the original Guillaume went to Vantress, and to trade his knowledge to Indrelon, the Magic Mirror, in return for a careful measure of the secrets that it held. It would herald a new age for the Troubadours; they were already rising in acclaim for their new stories, but knowing Indelon's secrets would catapult them to new heights. It would be glorious.
For his part, this copy of Guillaume would not be seeing much glory. He would not be called to fight, because his mistress could wage war far more ably than he -- a Gideon Jura reborn the fairer sex. He could offer advice, of course, but she called on that less often as she grew in confidence. He knew he was a poor spy, but did what he could there, for all that he was outshone by Mukotai Yuriko in that regard. No, the most important duty that he embraced for his mistress was less glorious but no less necessary.
Guillaume answered letters.
It had been one or two at first, after Taylor's identity became known. Simple notes, thanking her for opposing the Empire Eighty-Eight, or offering words of comfort and support. They'd been sent to the PRT, and Miss Militia had brought them around to Taylor's home a few days ago, as 'she was passing'. Taylor hadn't known what to do with them, so she'd called a meeting, and the Heartfelt Troubadours had been delighted to find that they could help. It was only a few letters anyway.
It was a week later, and the PRT had delivered a sack of them that morning. He and the other Troubadours had collected the sack (entering the house via the Stash, of course), and sorted through it. They'd collaborated to compose several stock response letters for those where replies were necessary: No, Walker would not be able to travel to your home city to deal with a gang there; please broach the topic with the local PRT. No, Walker will not be making any public appearances. No, Walker will not endorse your product. No, Walker is not looking for a date.
Other letters needed a more personal response, such as the one Guillaume had just opened. It was written by an old man, thanking Taylor for sending to the Birdcage the men who had killed his wife, daughter, and grandsons. The letter described those he had lost in vivid detail, from the delight his youngest grandson expressed in the little blue boots he was later found dead in, to his daughter's favourite necklace, and how he had found it in an ABB pawnshop the week after she disappeared.
Guillaume wasn't seeing too clearly by the time he finished reading the letter, and it was a relief when his phone rang. Taylor.
"Hey-- hey, Guillaume," said Taylor, hiccuping and speaking through a tight throat, "Maybe give-- give the letters a break for now, huh?"
There were many things he could not protect his mistress from.
Once I was done crying, I did schoolwork.
At five PM I flew to Brockton Bay General Hospital, where Panacea was waiting for me with a slightly overweight man with a well-tailored suit and a broad smile.
"Walker!" said the man, holding out his hand, "I'm Dr Wellhurst, Chief Medical Officer of BB General, I hear that you're willing to work miracles for us?"
They gave me an ID card, showed me around the hospital, and let me at a few patients while Panacea supervised. They were happy with the results, and led me to the neurological wards.
There were a lot of people. Healing these people took a mix of white mana of order and restoration, blue mana for reason and cognition, and a little green mana here and there for growth. Most people only needed one point, although a few needed two. I couldn't keep up with Panacea when it came to healing, even with the bracers, but I could still impress. There were a lot of people in comas who lay there, barely more alive than mannequins, and who woke up at my touch. There were other people in distress whose pain I could ease. Between us, Panacea and I were able to empty more than four fifths of the beds in the hospital. The last few were old people in their last days, those who had 'DNR' orders or who refused healing, and a couple of brain-dead people who were too far gone for my healing to reach them.
I confessed to Dr Wellhurst that I was driving him out of business, but he laughed me off.
"Oh, don't worry, Walker," he said happily, "We are probably the most profitable hospital in the country -- high bed turnaround, lots of inter-hospital transfers, and lots of wealthy benefactors. All thanks to Panacea, and now yourself. But I do need to take you by the CEO's office. He wants to talk to you about your compensation, and how often we can expect to see you."
Dr Norton Means, CEO, was as happy to see me as anyone in the building, and shook my hand enthusiastically. My dad had insisted on being in on this meeting, and between them they hashed out a deal. I would visit three times a week: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, for three hours or until my mana was exhausted, in return for three times' a doctor's hourly wage, to be put into a trust until I hit eighteen. This was effectively the same deal that Panacea had, according to the CEO. Both Panacea's and my time was worth far more than that, obviously, so the hospital would be doing a lot of promotion for us on top of handling all our malpractice insurance needs.
I'd been followed around the hospital wards by someone with a camera, and a lot of pictures and film was taken of me healing. They would be putting those videos and pictures up online and everywhere they could, promoting the hospital, me, and Panacea. They were doing very well out of the deal, but I was getting what I needed most -- the same reputational protection that Panacea had. No-one bad-mouthed Panacea, and given a little time, they'd think more kindly of me as well.
No-one was going to mortar bomb my Dad ever again. If my reputation for smashing gangs didn't protect him, hopefully my reputation as a healer would.
Before we left, Panacea and I posed for a picture in front of a banner declaring our awesomeness, arms on each other's shoulders, smiling fake little smiles and throwing peace signs. I was promised that it'd be on the front page of the Brockton Bay Herald.
Things were looking up.
After healing, I checked in on Teetoo, who was now busily working on her next assistant, Academy Manufactor. It wasn't going to do the most for our actual Tinkering potential, it wouldn't increase the number of Tinker counters made, but it would mean that whenever I spawned a Treasure, Clue, or Food token, I would instead create one of each. That included whenever I tapped unused lands for Treasure. I wasn't sure what I needed Clues and Food for, but that Cold Pizza had been super-tasty, and the Case 53 clue had been intriguing...
The Manufactor needed three mana to cast, so seven Tinker counters as a base cost. Most of its materials were basic stuff we could pull from the mine or buy cheap from the DWA -- the were selling the salvaged material from the Boat Graveyard wrecks by the tonne, and sure, buying ten tonnes of varied electronics-heavy scrap would get me on a Tinker watchlist, but everyone who mattered already knew I was a Tinker, so who cared? The only semi-tricky part was the Manufactor's 'manaflux manipulator' -- it's brain. Thankfully, I still had some spare weird glowing rocks from a past Treasure token I'd scavenged, and they would do the job just fine.
We needed seven Tinker counters, but with the bonuses from Urza's and Mishra's equipment, and our cute little workshop assistant? Teetoo had the Manufactor almost complete by the time she was ready for bed. I took over and finished it well before midnight.
Yuriko delved a little deeper into the Dungeon of the Mad Mage. She stepped through the entrance in the Stash and came out the other side of the swirling portal she'd found the last time. This was a dungeon again, although the brickwork was in better condition and the lighting and floor were both more even. It was a long corridor with a door going further inward at either end. I directed her to the one on the left. She walked up to it and opened the door to reveal an open-air marketplace run by goblins, full of raucus noises and creatures dashing hither and thither. Then Yuriko found herself exhausted, standing in front of the entrance to the dungeon.
The excitement allowed me to Scry one card - Hateflayer. It looked like a snake-insect-fire-tentacle monster and did horrible things to the creatures it fought. It went to the bottom of the library. Yuriko went to bed.
I did some more Tinkering, working on the next workshop assistant, a Mine Worker, until midnight.
It had been a quiet day, after all the fighting previously, and I found myself enjoying it a bit. Even if I was feeling a little restless. I needed to be doing more if I was going to be ready for the Endbringers.