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  1. #1
    Senior Member NachyoChez's Avatar
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    Fanfic BONUS: Mongoosey (The Collector)

    While only 5 entries are being voted on, this one caught my attention just for the humor factor. While it did not make the top 5, it made me laugh so hard I just had to share it with all of you. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did! -Nachyo


    Sat atop his white charger, the mage surveyed the battle from the hilltop. A light drizzle of rain fell, but no drops settled on his four man strong party, as they were shielded by a dome of energy, its blue sheen barely perceptible in the early morning light.

    The forces of Irum and their mercenary allies from Ellos were holding their own against his own forces. To his right the brown cloaked warriors of Ellos and their magnificent steeds were locked in a mounted, running battle with the fierce Marauders, and their Hell steeds. Their battle seemed a rolling moving mass of steel and flesh, covering several miles. The screams and cries of horse and men alike could be heard from where he sat.

    The embodiment of good and evil, locked in mortal combat, or just a matter of differing perspectives? Mused the mage

    In the centre of the plain, the foot battle had degenerated into a mass melee. All semblance of order had gone as the combatants hacked and slashed with various weapons. The soldiers of Irum were hard pressed by the fearless, and fanatical marauders on foot. Their grotesque faces were full of hate and spite.

    Ugly brutes, but efficient

    As he watched he noted two female warriors fighting Irum. They worked as unit, slightly apart from their allies, but they killed with lethal efficiency. One was deadly with a bow, and the other with two short swords.

    “Who are they?” he asked his aides.

    “They are the Rosecult sisters my Lord. By reputation they are skilled hunters, and as you can see, extremely capable fighters” answered the one-eyed, grizzled warrior Gondorian. He was a giant of a man, and he stood to one side with his hands resting upon a two-handed War sword.

    “Yes indeed. I want them alive.” He instructed.

    “As you command Lord” and he nodded to the rogue Demnchi.

    Dressed all in black and with a face mask that covered all but his eyes, the rogue Demnchi inclined his head in acknowledgement, and then kicked his horse into action, heading directly towards the battle on the plains.

    The party of now three watched him go.

    “This should be interesting” stated the chronicler Nachyo, his expression one of wry amusement. His neat, robed appearance was in direct contrast to Gondorian’s battle-worn look.

    Down the hill Demnchi drove his horse, gathering momentum and speed as he went, then as he approached the scrum in the middle of the plains, he loosened his feet from the stirrups, and still holding the reins, sprang up onto the saddle into a crouched position.

    “Oh, this is new” said Nachyo, as he watched the agile rogue launch himself into the air. His horse meanwhile crashed into several combatants, marauder and Irum alike sending them sprawling to the ground.

    Demnchi meanwhile withdrew his dual short swords, whilst tumbling in mid-air, and came down feet first on the back of a solider of Irum. The shocked soldier had no time to register what happened to him as he was propelled onto the curved blade of the marauder he was battling.

    The rogue had landed no more than twenty feet away from the Rosecult sisters, and he never stopped moving. His swords snaked out to strike crippling blows to Irum soldiers who were unlucky enough to be in his path. They were dutifully dispatched by marauders grateful for the assistance.

    His presence did not go unnoticed.

    “Jasmine, we have incoming” said Lilly, her own twin blades were keeping at bay two marauders.

    “I see him” replied the red-haired Jasmine and fired off an arrow at the black clad assassin as he sped towards her. She missed him, the arrow taking a marauder in the throat instead.

    “He’s too fast!” she exclaimed, as he launched himself at her. The hilt of his left blade caught her on the temple, and she fell to the floor out cold.

    “No!” shouted Lilly and launched a flurry of blows at her two opponents. They too had been distracted by the rogue’s assault and it cost them dearly, as a slash across the throat took one, whilst the other found a blade exiting his groin.

    Lilly did not pause, and twirled just in time to deflect the masked man’s weapons. She was hard pressed though. He was just so skilled, his swords snaking out again and again, and he was always moving.

    Their blade dance was mesmerizing to those that cared to watch. Two masters at work. Lilly realized though, too late that the masked devil had turned her around. A blow to the back of her skull and the blinding pain was the last sensation she felt that day.

    “Take them to the master” said Demnchi, his voice almost a hiss. The Marauder that hit Lilly lifted her over his shoulder whilst one of his comrades gathered Jasmine. Demnchi all the while kept watch whilst the battle raged on. No further harm would befall his opponents until they were with his master.

    Seeing that the rogue had succeeded, Gondorian looked to the mage, his face expressing an unspoken question.

    “Yes, it is time. The Irum forces are ready to break. Take them down”.

    The warrior smiled then, and with an almost bestial yell, Gondorian raised his War sword and screamed “Kill them all!

    His cry was matched with the terrifying howl of five hundred Wulven from where they had waited in silence, in the leeward side of the hill. With unnatural speed, the wolf-men streamed up and over the crest, following the warrior Gondorian’s charge down onto the plain.

    As Wulven joined marauder in unholy partnership, and the slaughter of Irum’s men began, the mage’s mind drifted back four years to the beginning of his journey.

    *****

    It had been cool day in the city of Da Lat, deep in the heart of central Vietnam. The city of thousands of pine trees was well named. The French-Swiss style architecture lent the city a shabby chic look. The market was a delight too. A multitude of stalls all clustered together displaying their various wares. Deeper he foraged for trinkets or mementoes of his visit, always on the lookout for a bargain.

    His attention had been drawn to the wizened old face of a Vietnamese shopkeeper, who stood at the entrance to his ramshackle shop. Mojumbo’s Antiques said the sign above the door. The curious shop seemed to be as far back as it was possible to go – beyond the last of the stalls. There were no other shoppers around, but inquisitive, he strode forward.

    The Vietnamese elder beckoned him in, with an obsequious bow. As he stepped over the threshold, his eyes took in a shop bursting with a treasure trove of antiques and curiosities. There was barely room to walk as chests, rugs, statues of all shapes and sizes presented themselves in the most chaotic fashion. The shop was also larger than his first perception.

    “Seek and you will find” said an accented ancient voice, startling him. It was the shopkeeper.

    “Er...thanks” he said

    His search continued, in his quests for an object of interest, of which there was plenty, until finally a small wooden chest caught his eye. The chest itself was unremarkable, but it sat with its hinged lid open, revealing a strange gemstone.

    Taking a closer look, but not touching, he noted that the gemstone was the size of a chicken egg. Its multifaceted sides showed no obvious blemishes at all. The peculiar thing though was that this gemstones colour seemed to change. Shades of black and grey swirled, giving the appearance of a storm cloud trapped in a glass prison.

    “That is a Shadow Crystal” pronounced the shopkeeper from behind him.

    So enthralled by this oddity he jumped in shock at the voice. “Jesus!” he exclaimed. “You scared the heck out of me”.

    “Many apologies young master. I was remarking on the Shadow Crystal.

    He gestured towards the gemstone. “Great power lies within, if you are willing to take it. Yes, look, the crystal swirls with magic. It is drawn to you”

    He looked again

    Magic? Power? Was the man mad? Yet what the heck am I seeing?

    “Take it” said the keeper, his voice compelling, and his accent less evident.

    And he did.

    As his hand grasped the shadow crystal, his whole being seemed to implode, as the crystals power was unleashed. It raged through his body like tsunami of energy. He screamed, but no sound came out. The last thing he remembered was the voice of the shopkeeper.

    “Seek and you will find”

    He opened his eyes. Everything was white, though there was nothing there. There was no shop, no objects, no people, and no walls. Nothing.

    Am I dead? He thought.

    “No you are more alive than you can possibly imagine” stated the shopkeeper.

    He wasn’t there, and now he was. He knew it was the shopkeeper, but he was young, athletic, and powerful. Not old and wizened.

    “Who are you, where am I?

    “You visited my shop. I am Mojumbo. That is all you need to know about me. As to where you are, well, you are between Worlds, and I brought you here so we may talk. Now, you will have many questions I’m sure, but hold them. Understanding will find you as I speak”

    Mojumbo paced as he spoke. His voice was rich, powerful and compelling.
    “You will discover that there are many shadow crystals, but few with the power of the one you held. The Darkstar crystal chose you. It revealed its power, and now it courses through your veins.

    It was true, he clenched his fists. I feel…powerful

  2. #2
    Senior Member NachyoChez's Avatar
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    “Yes, I see you believe it. A thousand years ago, a powerful mage trapped his soul and essence in Darkstar, waiting the day he would be released. He is now a part of you. On Earth…yes, you will return, and be forever anchored there. You will remain largely unchanged. Minor spells will be possible, but nothing remarkable. In the land of Balor, where the mage originated from, you will transform and become him”

    “Mojumbo…how do I travel between Earth and Balor?” he asked, but as he did so, realisation hit him.

    “Yes…I told you the knowledge would come. You can conjure portals. They take time to cast, especially when you are on Earth. As to why you would choose to travel, you know this too. The mages soul was evil...and you are tainted. You will crave power now, like an alcoholic craves drink. But you will not be able to remain on Balor for long periods. The need to return will be too powerful, and will overcome you”.

    “Why are you telling me this? He said with a voice tinged with fear. “What do you have to gain?”

    “I am the shopkeeper” he replied, “and I always extract a payment…Kyle Poole”.

    He then handed Kyle a red crystal. “This Shadow Crystal is Bloodmoon. Use it to transfer your ‘payment’ to me. You will know how. The souls it traps, will feed its sister crystal Blackfang, and objects of interest like weapons, artefacts and the like, will feed its brother crystal Whiteriver. Well, a shopkeeper needs new wares to sell” he said without a trace of irony.

    “Both crystals are safe within my shop. Shall we say five hundred souls? I want interesting specimens mind you. Different races, heroes, creatures, worthy warriors. You decide. Plus five hundred objects of power, or spells even”

    “Oh, and Bloodmoon’s magic creates an interesting by-product. You may keep them. I know you like collecting things”

    Before Kyle could respond to this unbelievable nightmare, Mojumbo commanded “Now return”.

    He awoke with a start, and sat up in his bed. He was in his apartment back in Toronto. What a dream!

    He looked around his bedroom. Everything was in place, and familiar. Faint light peeked through the blinds of his window. Swinging out of bed he walked through into the bathroom. He relieved himself, feeling the relief of normality that simple pleasurable act brought him, especially following the weirdness of that dream.

    Moving across to the square porcelain sink, he looked in bathroom mirror. He noted the sleep in his eyes, and fatigue in his face.

    He needed a shave

    Running the cold water tap he bent down and cupped the cool water in both hands and rubbed his face. Looking up he recoiled in shock and fear at the face that appeared in the mirror. With a strange, sick fascination he recovered enough to stare at the face. It was skeletal…

    Like Ghost Rider he thought

    Strangely that weird notion about the comic book hero made him smile, and the skull smiled back at him.

    “Oh…my…gawd” he exclaimed, and touched his face. He felt the stumble on his chin but watched as the mirrored reflection of a skeletal hand rubbed the skull’s jaw bone.

    Then his dreadful twinned reflection spoke!

    “It is time…return me to Balor” it said in a voice as cold as winter.

    *****

    The mage was snapped out of his reverie by the quiet voice of Demnchi.

    “Master Gravebone, I have returned”.

    “Yes, you have done well. Make sure the women are taken to my command tent, without further harm”. He instructed.

    “As you command” he answered, and turning he gestured to the marauders, standing with the two unconscious female fighters over their shoulders, to follow him.

    “Congratulations…I think a successful outcome my Lord” said the jovial Nachyo.

    As he spoke, Gravebone surveyed the battle scene, with his spell enhanced sight. His Wulven-Marauder minions had slaughtered every last foot soldier of Irum. Gondorian was there too, with a veritable slay stack of bodies at his feet. Looking further off, he could also see that a small detachment of Ellos mercenaries were riding clear, trying to escape. They were perhaps a mile away.

    Oh no you don’t

    He dismounted from his horse, muttering words of power as he did so. Raising his skeletal arms to the sky, he started to call forth the magic of the elements.

    Nearby, Nachyo could feel the hairs on his arm rise, as the magic crackled and built around his master.

    This is going to be colourful he thought.

    The riders of Ellos did not stand a chance. They were obliterated as a barrage of fiery rocks blazed from the sky. Not one of the riders or horses escaped the unnatural hail. They were either crushed to a pulp, set ablaze, or both as the rocks hit their locale.

    “Meteor Storm, Lord? A wonderful spell, though a little understated for my taste”. He said with a smile.

    Gravebone turned his pitted sockets towards Nachyo, whose smile died on his face, when he registered the lack of mirth or humour in his master’s face.

    Though how can you really tell when he’s happy on the inside? mused the chronicler

    “er…only joking my Lord” he said placatingly.

    Ignoring his underling, he mounted his horse and spurred it towards camp, which was half a mile away. He didn’t turn to see if Nachyo followed, though in truth he enjoyed his company.

    Even a Lich Lord must have a sense of humour...or was that the taint of humanity from his symbiotic relationship with the human Kyle?

    *****

    As his horse ambled down the hill, his mind recapped over the last few years. The duality of his existence with the human was a challenge at first, but his control had grown stronger and stronger.

    The pull to return Kyle to Earth was too strong though. At first, he could only last a day or two. He felt the need at the very core of his being. Now, he could last several weeks at a time, before the need took him. Indeed, he even planned ahead, and would return before time. In those instances, he had found he had greater stored strength then to force the return to Balor sooner.

    The first time Kyle-Gravebone passed through the portal the feeling of the transformation to his Lich form was like being released from the bonds of hell. The residual pleasure of the experience could still be felt even now

    From the moment his feet touched the ground in Balor, he could feel the magic return with an intensity that was wholly satisfying. He had found himself deep in his forest in The Wilds, outside the ruins of his mage tower. A thousand years of decay had not been kind to his home.

    He had set quickly to the task of recruiting minions to his cause. The world of Balor would feel his wrath, but he needed time to recruit an army. Marauders, and several Wulven tribes, had come to him, and his army of undead had grown too. They were the heart of his army, but took time and powerful magic to raise.

    His forest in the Wilds became his main base, and a new tower was built by the slaves he captured. The Wilds were not his target though. Irum, Layer, and Lyth, these were his main objectives.

    Now, several years later, most of Irum had fallen to his forces. Those fools in Layer and Lyth had failed to recognise the danger, and had not helped their neighbours. Progress would have been challenging if they had.

    His symbiotic existence was an inconvenience, but he had learned to accept it. In time, he would find a way to extract Kyle from his being, but for now it was something he had to endure.

  3. #3
    Senior Member NachyoChez's Avatar
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    *****

    As he worked his way through camp to his command tent, he barely noticed the fear and awe he inspired in his troops. They were all a means to an end, nothing more, nothing less.

    Demnchi stood at the entrance alongside four gigantic undead minotaur. Great looming sentinels, all horned and armoured, with orders to not let anyone enter his private quarters. One of the minotaur guards now held the two Rosecult sisters, one under each arm.

    “Demnchi, instruct Gondorian when he returns to fortify this position. I want regular patrols, and bring me fifty of the least damaged Irum soldiers. They will soon join my forces in undeath when I return. My standing instructions apply”.

    Demnchi knew that meant no-one was to even approach the tent, as the minotaur guards, and the activated defensive wards, would signal the end of all who dared try.

    “As you command” he said, and took his leave.

    “Bring them” he ordered. With a flick of his skeletal hand the thick curtained drapes parted allowing him to enter the large tent, and his dutiful minotaur followed.

    The tent was large, but was functional. There were no trappings of comfort at all. There were however, desks with various artefacts of magic, a large mirror, several chests, weapons of various types, though mainly staves, and wands, and three posts in the centre with chains and manacles attached.
    The minotaur set about restraining the women to two of these posts. His large hands found the task difficult, but the manacles were imbued with magic, and self- tightened around the wrists of the fallen warriors. He then left the tent.

    On one of the desks was a globe chest with the representation of Balor beautifully etched onto its surface. Gravebone lifted the top half of the globe, on its hinge, to reveal the shadow crystal Bloodmoon sitting in a velvet indent.

    He reached in and took out Blackfang carefully. It was pure black. No light reflected off its oblong surface.

    “Time to make my payment” he muttered. He turned and noted that the archer Jasmine was coming round.

    “Hello my dear. I have no time to talk right now, and unfortunately for you, neither do you”. Speaking words of power, Gravebone channelled his magic through the crystal. The whole tent felt super-charged with the powerful energies involved.

    Jasmine was barely coherent, and did not register the pain as her very being was trapped by the power of the crystal. He repeated the process on her prone sister.

    When it was all complete, the sisters were no more. Their souls had been transferred to that demon being, the Shopkeeper, and their bodies were gone. In their place, were too flat discs no larger than the palm of his hand. On the surface of each disc were the images of Jasmine and Lilly, beautifully captured and so life-like.

    The “interesting by-product” Mojumbo had mentioned those many years ago.

    Gravebone gathered the two discs up, and stepped up to the large mirror, whose surface now churned like a black pool of water

    I’m sure Kyle will like these two. He seems to like my previous gifts.

    And with that last thought, he stepped through the Portal


    THE END
    (Or is it?)

  4. #4
    DP Visionary Mongoosey's Avatar
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    Wow, what a gifted author. Tis like Shakespeare reborn.
    "I'll have you know I have the reflexes of a cat, and the speed of a mongoose"

    LEGEND of TEAM JUGGERNAUTS


    Recent accolades: season 5, finalist (top 8). UK streetfigher, Conquerors Bane runner-up.
    Immortalised as Flavour Winner for "Smoke Screen". Conceal, Confuse, and Obscure.

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  5. #5
    Chat Mod SamuelJ's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Mongoosey View Post
    Wow, what a gifted author. Tis like Shakespeare reborn.
    Wonderful and congrats on the 2000th post!

  6. #6
    Senior Member Jo3yb0i's Avatar
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    Lol this is great. Very humorous indeed
    "Try and try until you die...or succeed...whichever comes first"

    Jo3yb0i - Knight of Dark and Light
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  7. #7
    DP Visionary Preybird's Avatar
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    So it's true, Mojumbo is the real power in SE.
    Extra Tough Claws - Proud Member of ETC

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  8. #8
    Senior Member XanteseZerylliom's Avatar
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    This is an awesome take on the card game as a whole. Very clever work, Mongoosey!
    Proud member of Team Juggernauts | PFG member

    IGN: TJ Xantese

  9. #9
    DP Visionary Mongoosey's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by XanteseZerylliom View Post
    This is an awesome take on the card game as a whole. Very clever work, Mongoosey!
    Coming from you, I'll take that as a major compliment. Of course, it's based on a true story.
    "I'll have you know I have the reflexes of a cat, and the speed of a mongoose"

    LEGEND of TEAM JUGGERNAUTS


    Recent accolades: season 5, finalist (top 8). UK streetfigher, Conquerors Bane runner-up.
    Immortalised as Flavour Winner for "Smoke Screen". Conceal, Confuse, and Obscure.

    Link to irc: http://shadowera.gondorian.com/gamechat/

  10. #10
    DP Visionary Mongoosey's Avatar
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    Bumped, because the public needs to know the truth.
    "I'll have you know I have the reflexes of a cat, and the speed of a mongoose"

    LEGEND of TEAM JUGGERNAUTS


    Recent accolades: season 5, finalist (top 8). UK streetfigher, Conquerors Bane runner-up.
    Immortalised as Flavour Winner for "Smoke Screen". Conceal, Confuse, and Obscure.

    Link to irc: http://shadowera.gondorian.com/gamechat/

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