Operation: Pacifica, Into the Citadel
by Fleet Commander Samhain, aka BlackBlood the Feral (NYAR!)


 "Ok, Percivus.." winced Nemesis.  DeadLock held his left arm behind
  his back, BlackBlood the other.


 "Reginald Percival Octavius Julien the Fifth," chimed in the
  chipper M.E.N.S.A.n, its eyes gleaming.


 "What we need to say is... *ouch*... that... *ow*"


 "Yes?" asked the Nagenta Saurian, bending down so its toothy smile
  hovered a few feet from Nemesis' face.


 "We'd lo.. *OW* ... we'd love for you to guide us into the
  Citadel."


 "Wonderful!  Simply magnificent!  You couldn't have made a wiser
  decision!"  beamed the M.E.N.S.A.n.  It did a small, earth pounding dance of
  glee as the news worked through its mind.


 The Nagenta creature contorted its body into a strange position,
  uttered a cryptic word.  The gargantuan gates ground loudly upwards,
  stopping after rising a hundred feet.


...


 The group, regaled by humor and thoughts of their guide, passed
  underneath the massive gate and into the High Mage's stronghold.



...




 BlackBlood paused beneath the gate for a final scan of his
  surroundings.  The same dark, glassy trees grew in carefully landscaped
  clusters.  An unfelt breeze rustled their crystalline leaves with a sound
  like ice cubes tumbling into a glass.  It was strangely beautiful and
  familiar to him in those brief moments, and then, like a mirage, the comfort
  faded into the horrifying reality of the place in which he stood.


 As he turned and entered the stronghold, the gate ground shut
  behind him like some massive beast devouring its hapless prey.


...




 The group of Maenads made their way through the cavernous maze of
  corridors behind their boisterous MENSAn guide, who prattled endlessly to
  his new friend Nemesis.  In contrast, BlackBlood was content to hang toward
  the back of the group, keeping his thoughts private while warily watching
  their backs.


 At various places, torches burned with rich black flames, lighting
  their way with dark-hued light.  Other times, walls along their route glowed
  with an inner fire, following Percival as he led the way.



...




 Nemesis, at last, could no longer tolerate the endless nonsense.
  He stopped, turned, and snapped something at the MENSAn about wandering in
  circles.  BlackBlood didn't hear a word of it as his mind again clouded over
  in vague recollection of another place and time.


 He gazed longingly at an obsidian wall.  Almost against his will,
  he reached towards it, Claws[tm] retracted, allowing his fingertips to glide
  across its glassy surface.  The wall shimmered and rippled slightly,
  allowing him to reach further into it.


...




 Hanover paid no attention to Nemesis and glanced around nervously.
  From the corner of his eye he noticed BlackBlood, his fingers dancing along
  the wall.  His vulpine eyes went wide with horror as they penetrated the
  surface as if it wanted to draw him nearer.  His breath caught in his chest.
  He raced towards BlackBlood, sprang, and knocked the other Feral's arm away
  from the wall.


 BlackBlood bared his teeth in a razor-edged snarl at the
  interloper, then blinked as if awaking from some bizarre dream.


 Hanover carefully considered Shardik's earlier misstep--how he'd
  spoken to Deadlock and BlackBlood.  He bit his tongue hard enough to make it
  bleed, making a silent vow to keep an eye on the Maenad at his back.



...




 Charn'El sat in his sanctum, carefully watching the movements of
  the intruders.  Despite the darkness, their forms were distinct and clear,
  their visages shimmering in a pool of blood from a brown-robed corpse
  sprawled at the foot of his throne.  He grinned evilly behind his mask as
  BlackBlood's fingers skimmed the wall.


 "Introductions are in order, Dark One."


...




 Nemesis' voice trailed off suddenly as his skin tensed across his
  back.  Ridges and spines raised like razor-edged goosebumps.  He sniffed
  cautiously at the air, faint tendrils of ozone tickling his nose.  His
  horrific red eyes went wide and he hurled himself at the gatekeeper with a
  ferocious "NYAR!"  The gatekeeper and Maenad slammed against the wall as a
  purple-green blast of electric force crackled through the air where Nemesis
  had recently been standing.


 Windigo, Jace, DeadLock, and Hanover dove out of the way in turn,
  the blast parting the group like the Red Sea.  Its mystic fury slammed into
  the chest of BlackBlood, nearly toppling him over backwards before forking
  into dozens of fiery tendrils and grasping him in terrible fury.  His body
  ripped into strands of sparkling glass and shadow, twisting and turning
  inside out.


 Hanover's Jaw dropped in horror and shock as BlackBlood
  disintigrated into a fine ether before his eyes.  His Claws[tm] slid out to
  their full length and his jaw quivered as the Holy WarpSpasm began to
  envelop his being.  The remaining Ferals were doing likewise as a Lyran clad
  in deep purple robes emerged from the shadows, a glowing ball of lavender
  energy casting the only light across his masked face.  As one, the group
  started toward the solitary figure, reckless abandon and savage rage
  consuming them.


 Their motions seemed in slow motion as they charged the Lyran,
  whose spell gained power with each drawn-out moment.  A harsh wind scattered
  the Maenads to the sides of the corridor, knocking them off balance and
  rushing with blazing speed despite the slow-motion time frame they seemed to
  inhabit.  Nemesis barely heard a low, silent hissing as he was shoved into
  the wall; a sound like a thousand whispering voices all saying the same
  thing slightly out of phase.


 "nynyanyanyaarnyarnyarrrrrrr..." it whispered before trailing off
  into obscurity.


 The Lyran was likewise knocked off balance and his concentration
  shattered; his electric ball expanded and scattered through the area, its
  forks and branches dancing along walls, ceiling, and floor like tentacles
  reaching for an unseen foe.  The cloud scooped him up and suspended him in
  time and space.  The Ferals watched as what appeared to be a giant mouth
  with dozens of uneven teeth tore into his side.  A tremendous clawed hand
  held him fast in place as he tried to squirm free.  He attempted to scream,
  but the hand gripped him so tightly it forced blood to gurgle from his
  mouth.   His eyes bulged and popped free of their sockets, held nearly in
  place only by his dreadful mask.


 A second sorceror stepped into the open, and the first dropped to
  the floor like a rag doll.  A hurricane of glassy shards enveloped him,
  swirling in a vortex of rage.  The Lyran seemed to melt away as the swirling
  currents dragged sharp edges across his flesh, peeling it away and spilling
  bloody goo into a lavender pool.


 Time resumed its normal flow, and the Maenads picked themselves up
  from where they'd fallen.  They looked to where the second Lyran had just
  melted into a puddle and stared at what they found in his place.  Varying
  shades of black and grey swirled in an eddy; here and there a sparkle like
  glass reflected the dull light of  the corridor.  A pair of crimson orbs
  appeared in the center of the tornado, and the thousand whispers came again.
  "nynyanyanyaarnyarnyarrrrrrr..."


 The fur down the center of Nemesis' back stood on end at the sound.
  What was this--thing?


 Slider half stumbled trying to rise from his knees at the sound.
  "What da bloody fock...?"


 Windigo crouched low, her instincts taking over.  She growled
  briefly, but cut her growl short as she suddenly understood.  She extended a
  single Claw[tm] in the direction of the vortex exactly as she had done
  earlier with DarkSide.  She cocked her head sideways at the being before
  her, unsure what to think...



...




 Charn'El frowned darkly.  The Maenads were not fighting!  Where he
  had expected chaos and bloodshed there was order and peace.  The Maenads had
  met the fearsome and frightening reality of the Dark One, and seen him for
  what he was... one of Them.



...


 BlackBlood struggled to coalesce back into his physical form.  On
  this plane he was safe and could function without impairment, but what would
  happen once Charn'El was defeated?


 The magical blast from the Lyran had disrupted his physical form,
  causing severe problems.  DeadLock and Windigo, sensing his unease,
  approached, raised their hands and extended their Claws[tm] into the
  swirling cloud of darkness.  A few solemn incantations were spoken, and
  BlackBlood slumped into DeadLock's arms, his typically brilliant red eyes
  glowing dimly. He quickly shrugged loose from DeadLock's arms and nodded
  briefly.  "Forward go we," he spoke tersely, then stalked off into the
  darkness of the citadel as if he knew where he was going.


 The other Maenads glanced at eachother in confusion.  Resignedly,
  they followed along behind their comrade in silence.



"Into the Citadel"
Copyright 1997
David R. Hibbs