Bane World Saga. Book 1: The Transgressor

[Vampire_Lowell]

This story was NOT made by me. But from a friend. But i got permission to post it up here.

If you remember the STrange society thing i promoted like somewhat heck back at the site that shall not be named (cough cough ANET) Then you sorta have a mild minor idea of what this might be all about...maybe...maybe not actually. lol

OH this is by Dangerously Psycho
And for further note. I am Anonymous the Paranoiac.

I give you...Bane World Saga!

Prologue
In a world beyond ours exists a civilization of omnipotent beings. There exists a society of gods who watch over their creations carefully. There exists a class system among them, ranging from the lesser gods who are barely immortal to the supreme Assembly of Seven. There exists a code these beings must all adhere to, determined by the Assembly, and when this law is not obeyed, individuals are punished. But such is the way of all societies.
Beyond this civilization exist the creations of these beings, whether they were created out of happiness and a wish to have beings to nurture as children, or out of anger and hatred and a desire to have lesser creatures to inflict pain and suffering upon. This has all been allowed and unhindered, although a god may not have always agreed with what his neighbor was doing. But such is the way of all societies.
Not all creations by this existence of beings were short-lived, individual efforts. In times of boredom and curiosity, this society has convened to collaborate on larger tasks, some of which, at the time, they were not even certain they possessed the powers necessary to accomplish. One such experiment was the creation of new gods. Through the efforts of the gods, two new beings of pure enough mind and power to be considered gods themselves were born among their ranks. Naturally, they were not as powerful or knowledgeable as their evident "parents" and had to be taught about their existence in order to coexist in their realm. But such is the way of all societies.
There exists within this world a doorway. Usually, no notice is taken of it, and it is rarely brought into conversation, for there is little to say of the place beyond this sealed gate. This is the passage to the Earth of Affliction, although it is not usually referred to by that name, but as the Bane World. Here is a microcosm created as a kennel, an imprisonment for the products of the earliest undertakings of the society of gods. When first attempts were made toward creating life to populate our human Earth, chances were taken and reckless errors were made. The original men to walk this planet possessed a severe imbalance between self control and free will, more precisely completely devoid of the first, and ran wildly, destroying everything as they went. Realizing their folly and wishing to do better, the gods took back these creatures and, rather than destroy them, a need the gods had not foreseen and were not certain how to accomplish, sealed these creatures away within this prison as if doing so would settle the problem. Ultimately, they were able to start anew, but the problem was never truly solved, only left to be dealt with later by others. But such is the way of all societies.
Within this secure, but not forgotten world, chaos erupted. Angered, the creatures composed totally of free will attacked the area where the gate had been, but the gate was no longer there, for evidence of such a portal between worlds does not exist when it is closed. After centuries of disorder, things slowly came to settle. The world partitioned itself between the various personalities of the inhabitants, which is their distinction of ethnicity. But such is the way of all societies.
As little as it is admitted, more than once has it been proven that the gods who created all that we experience and all that exists beyond our observances are imperfect. Not all of their creations turn out exactly as planned, and when one of the two child gods interfered with the progression of life on our Earth in such a way that it violated the laws set by the Assembly of Seven, the fact once again became evident that there are sometimes flaws in the godly creations. He was brought before the Assembly of Seven, an event feared by all the gods, to have his fate decided. Actions that do not conform with that decided by those in power do not go unpunished. But such is the way of all societies.
His fate was determined. He was to be stripped of his immortal powers and then cast within the Bane World until the Assembly should decide to release him, which would probably be equivalent to the rest of his existence. In great fear, the individual, now the equal to a mere teenage human boy, received his sentence. The gate was accessed for a portion of a moment, enough time to shove one being through without worry that something else may emerge. Having done so, the seal was reestablished, and the gods went on with their business, for time passes and one must not dwell on events of the past if one hopes to progress. But such is the belief of all societies.

Chapter I
The World of Affliction is its own realm of creatures so varying from one another that it is difficult for one to create a distinction between which is humanoid in structure and which is not. As these were only the first productions of the gods, a like-shape had not been determined, and the results were obvious. Here one could find beings with numerous limbs or no limbs, bodies resembling those of animals, bodies like no one has ever before seen, and for some their shapes were not permanent anyway.
Throughout the years, the excess of free will each individual possessed also played a part in development. Not only did the output of free will determine their extraordinary powers and abilities, but it also had a factor in forming the personality of each individual. Those with certain extreme traits often set themselves apart from the others or used those abilities to establish themselves as authorities. Many followed these self-appointed rulers of the various lands of the Bane World for fear or protection, but equally many also lived in careless pacts governed by their own free will alone. In this way, the World of Affliction was divided between many kingdoms, although only few were considered as such anyway.
Free will is put to use in many ways. There are the prophets, who use this energy to sense events and make predictions, and are some of the only inhabitants of this land who can remain calm most of the time. There are pacts which let their free will flow freely in jovial celebration, increasing their output and living life in constant bliss. There are some who are able to manipulate their own free will to move objects or create images, and such use of this energy allows them to be relatively calm as well. There are numerous more, but they will not be mentioned now, as to list them would take volumes.
It was on this one day that the prophets unanimously sensed something. They had all been made uneasy by their recent visions, some of an intruder entering their world and others of a being rising to great power and causing harm to all those within the finite realm. For this reason, on an afternoon when the prophets all realized the momentary opening of the gate separating worlds, and the new presence of a being unlike the rest of their population, the prophets and their followers were all in sudden fear, fear of this unnamed transgressor.

It so happened that this time when the worldly gate opened, it appeared twenty feet high above a field. Due to the extreme randomness of planar travel, the boy had not a clue as to in what kind of environment he would find himself, and thus expected anything. Still, to be shoved through to find himself in mid-air was quite unpredictable. Without any of the godly powers he had known for his entire existence, the boy plummeted straight downward, landing directly in front of a singing passerby.
"Ouch! Pain! I felt pain! Dammit!" complained the once-deity.
"H-who the hell are you?" stammered the local being.
"Oof, well..." The boy thought about this new poser. In his former existence, there were no individual identities, only classification of status. He had only been known as a 'recent' due to the nature of his creation. "I've never been given my own name," was his reply.
"So, now you come here to try to take mine!" accused the passerby. "You've got a lot of nerve, you know that? First you jump me from who-knows-where, then you try to steal my..."
"Look..." interrupted the boy, standing up as he spoke.
"Aaaahhh! Don't hurt me!" the man shrieked, collapsing before the youth. "I didn't mean anything by it, really! If you want my name, it's Anonymous. I'm Anonymous the Paranoiac. Now leave me alone!"
"I didn't want to take your identity. I just arrived here and I wanted to know..."
"You've never been to the Kingdom of the Psychos?" intermitted Anonymous. "Man, you have a lot to learn before you go traveling around here. Most of this land within twenty miles is owned by two brothers. See that castle up yonder?" Anonymous pointed to a large hill. There was no structure to be seen anywhere near it.
"No, what castle...?" The boy stopped as his conversationalist sprinted off toward a heavily-wooded area. "Hey! Come back..." but he was talking to no one. The Paranoiac had departed.
Hours passed as he followed a dirt path through the countryside. He began thinking about his situation, the absence of his powers and the frustration caused by his inability to control the environment around him as he was used to. His legs were tired and the shoes he happened to be wearing while he was made mortal were not suitable for this kind of traveling. On countless occasions he momentarily forgot and tried levitating, once falling flat upon his face. Undoubtedly, he knew that this would be the most humbling experience of his existence.
During his trek, he took notice of the wildlife as he passed. The plants were mostly the same as those which grew on Earth, also given to the World of Affliction because they were vital to the life here as well. Interestingly enough, a few species of flower which had become extinct on Earth thrived here, away from the creatures whom had dined on them on the outside. "It looks like the Bane World isn't quite the barren wasteland we all thought of it," supposed the boy aloud.
More interesting, however, was the fauna of this world. From the path he followed, the boy observed many strange creatures grazing in the field. One such animal resembled a cow but possessed four heads. The boy recalled one god having mentioned such a beast's existence when he had inquired about the four stomachs of Earth's cow. He sat awhile watching a herd of this mammal devour the grasses of the landscape.
After a few minutes of this spectacle, he rose to continue his journey. He only took a few steps, however, when he heard a low-pitched shriek emanate from the herd. Turning, the boy was witness to the event of one of the behemoths being wrapped around by what appeared to be long, thick, hair-like vines. Soon, the entire creature was enveloped. The other cow-creatures inched away from the scene as the green mass of vines slowly became smaller. Finally, the vines receded, revealing the bones and sinews of the consumed beast. From there, a large, six-legged, bug-like creature about the size of a tortoise emerged onto the path and moved into the forest on the other side. The long, course, green hair on the animal's topside had easily allowed it to hide there in the grass.
The boy observed all of this with amusement until the creature crossed over the path. He then realized that he himself was now quite mortal, and that this world was a very dangerous place. With this in mind, he hastened his steps. A few miles down this path, he could now see what looked like a kind of village, and not a moment too soon. This new mortal existence provided him with a hunger along with other human ailments to his body.

[Cain]

^______^

Nice move posting it Lowell ^^
Gives me somehting to read w00t!

[Vampire_Lowell]

Chapter II
After relieving himself at the edge of the forest, and after the surprise he received due to the plants which quickly sprouted in the soil there at contact, the traveler approached the town and its many wonders. The buildings were not very attractive, but they appeared to be sturdy, apparently the product of someone's careful work. This surprised the boy, never having expected such establishments from beings who were believed to posses terribly pitiful attention spans.
The most apparent attraction, however, was a bustling marketplace. Yet it was not the unusual assortment of wares that caught the boy's attention, but the vendors and consumers themselves. Creatures hurried about in varying manners, some on two limbs or more, some sliding about on what appeared to be a single tentacle of sucking plates, some bearing large wings, and at least one which rolled into a sphere to move from one table to the next. Exteriors of these locals varied as there were creatures coated in such manners as fur, scales, feathers, excreted slime or tar, stone, and a pair of beings who had skin and insides which appeared to be translucent.
Suddenly reminded of his hunger by the rumbling in his gut, the boy began trying to locate anything which appeared to be edible.
"What are these?" he questioned a man at a counter covered with what appeared to be large, green berries.
"Those damned Interrogatives!" shouted the man. "Always demanding answers and explanations! Leave us alone!" The now hysterical man stomped his foot and the entire counter, along with everything which was upon it, abruptly folded into a small box with wheels on the sides. "No! There's your answer! Ha, ha!" The man stood on the box and rolled away slowly, laughing hysterically, and leaving the dumbfounded boy there. Downheartedly, he continued his search for food, which he felt was sure to be in vain.
Unexpectedly, a voice spoke from behind him. "If I had an opinion to offer, which I'm not certain I do, it maybe could have been that you appear to be lost."
Turning, he found the advisor of the cryptic statement to be a short, dark-haired man. "Looking for something?" queried the voice.
"Yeah," began the boy, grateful that he may receive some assistance at last, "I'm sort of new here, and am looking for something to eat. Can you help me?"
"I don't know."
Not expecting such a response, the boy stared at him blankly. "Uh... is there a place nearby where I could obtain some food?"
"Maybe. Well, I guess... not. No, wait... Maybe."
"What is wrong with you?!"
"Um... I have no opinion there."
"Ok, just give me the facts. Now!" The former deity was growing impatient.
"My name is Undecided. I have no occupation. The sky is blue. Cuisinart is spelled with a C, not a Q. This story is printed on recycled paper. A steady diet of paprika by itself is not very healthy. 'Raw umber' is..."
"But what is your opinion on all of these things?" interrupted the boy, beginning to understand the nature of this acquaintance.
"Well... hm, no. I don't think so. Well, maybe a little. I don't know."
"Somehow I thought so," concluded the boy.
"So, You were looking for some munchies, right?" spoke Undecided.
"Yeah, something like that."
"Well, I have some butabeef at my home which I could cook up. You're welcome to some of it, if you want," offered the man.
"What's 'butabeef'?" asked the boy.
"I don't know," stated Undecided.
"I probably don't want to either, now that I think of it," agreed the boy. He graciously accepted the invitation.

Undecided's hut looked well enough from the outside, but upon entering, the boy was shocked. The decor of the interior was a shambles of different colors and styles. A shelf with kitchen utensils at one end supported workman's tools on the other. One wall was partly a shade of green, then abruptly changed yellow, with a sickly violet at the other end. On a different wall hung a painting, one portion of which depicted a landscape and the rest a portrait of a dog-like creature. Undecided's inability to firmly make a single decision was evident.
"So this is your home?" spoke the boy.
"Could be," replied the man.
"How about this? True or false?"
"All of the above."
"This can become somewhat irritating," assessed the boy. "It's no wonder we locked you all away like this."
A shattering noise spread across the room. "W-what?" stammered Undecided, standing over a broken plate. "How do you mean that?"
"Um..." Realizing the slip he'd made, the boy scanned the room for an emergency exit. One worry he'd had since becoming mortal was that of the tempers the isolated beings of the World of Affliction probably possessed. The only exit he noted was the door through which he'd entered, just beyond where his host stood.
"Hm, funny," continued Undecided. "It was almost as if you were speaking as one of those decrepit divinities who sealed us all within this terra." The man began picking up the shattered dish but then shrugged and left the pieces there. "However, you do seem odd. Not odd in a normal sort of way if you will, but normal in an odd sort of way."
"Huh?" was the boy's response.
"You aren't from this world, are you?"
The boy became nervous once again, but he knew that he'd eventually have to explain something. "Maybe," he stated.
"I see," answered Undecided, who lit a fire in a crude stove. After putting a slab of meat above the flame, the man resumed his talk. "So tell me, were you recently thrown into the Bane World by the demented deities, or did you somehow find passage here on your own? Don't be afraid, I can tell you're an Earth dweller."
Remembering the fact that he now most closely resembled a human in structure, the boy decided to leave it at that. "I'm from Earth," he lied, "and I angered the gods. As punishment, they sentenced me to conclude my life here." He spoke the last part slowly, as he had not before thought about his possession of 'life.' He suddenly realized that in his new state, regardless of how long he could elude Death, his life was to be concluded here eventually, whether it was to be taken by another or if he simply died of age. This realization angered, and then terrified the once- omnipotent boy.
"That seems an odd explanation," spoke Undecided, poking the meat with a stick. "I don't believe I recall those gods ever punishing Earth-dwellers with anything besides death and an occasional curse. In fact, the only people I'd heard the gods to have actually had any contact with were just conceived by their peers as religious nut cases."
"Wait a minute!" interrupted the boy. "How do you know about anything beyond this plane? How do you even know about humankind?"
"Um, well, maybe, I don't know, well..."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, just explain the ordeal!"
"I'll have you know that I do nothing for the sake of heaven, boy!" shouted Undecided.
Struck by this remark, the boy stood silent for a moment. After a lengthily pause he carefully rephrased his statement. "Tell me the means by which you are aware of occurrences beyond the Bane World," he muttered.
"Well why didn't you say so?" began the man, now seemingly in a good mood once more. "I shouldn't expect you to know too much about our world, but if you plan to get by in here, there are certain aspects that you should be aware of. Here, we are all beings of free will. We are all sort of immortal in a certain way, that if one's body is ever killed, his spirit is trapped here and able to regenerate a new infant body after approximately five years. This does end the 'life' of the being, but he never truly dies, you see."
"Sounds nice," replied the boy.
"Not really," continued Undecided. "It's all part of our imprisonment here. Never possessing an afterlife is a Hell within itself. We've all roamed this earth for centuries and accomplished nothing! Is it any wonder we all long for a way to leave this tiny world?"
With that, the man jumped up, took the meat from the fire, sliced it, threw it onto a plate, and slid the dish across the half round, half square table to the boy. Pausing a moment for the poor presentation of his meal, the boy then quickly indulged in his hunger. After a few minutes of savagely tearing away at the meat, he looked up and noticed his host merely picking at his portion of the dinner. Observing this, he stopped.
"I never did catch your name, boy," spoke Undecided.
"I was known as a recent," he replied.
"Arressient? Odd name for a human," assessed the man. "But that may benefit you here. If word gets out that a human has entered the Bane World, many could suspect you of somehow being the key to getting out. Too many here are desperate for such a chance, and I'm not sure you'd want to hear the means they'd take to achieve such a goal. Best to keep a low profile, if possible."
"You never did explain to me how you know so much about humankind," pointed out the boy.
"True," was the response.
"Do tell."
"Well," he began, sipping his drink, "the World of Affliction is tightly bound with the human Earth, more so than the gods originally intended. I don't know what other creatures live on that world, but the human race has many people also with high concentrations of free will. Thus, a few of the banes here are sometimes able to form a link between themselves and certain few dwellers of their world. I know one such bane personally, and I believe that the elder of the brothers Psycho also has this ability."
The boy was intrigued by this. All the time he'd lived among the gods, and he'd never known that such 'links' existed. "So you mean that the irrational action of humans is partially the result of the influence of the Bane World?"
"Um, maybe, I don't quite..."
"Never mind. Just go on." The boy could feel his eyelids becoming heavy, but thought little of it. He had never experienced drowsiness before.
"There's also a device, a large one in the city. Actually, the city was sort of built around it. Some number of decades ago, a team of "builders" created a large screen or something. I'm not sure quite how, but someone was able to enchant it in such a way that it now constantly shows images of human Earth. Many of the images it produced inspired the builders, who went on to build things depicted on the screen. When the rush of people swamped to the area, both to see the contraption and in search of an exit from this place, the builders were delighted to construct "skyscrapers". In fact, the builders were responsible for most of the facilities and gadgets in this world. Anyway, that's how we learned much about humankind. Of course, this was before the city... well, it's not all too important right now. Hey... are you OK?"
Undecided watched as his guest slowly put his head down to the table and entered a deep sleep. "Is my cooking really so bad?" No response. "Strange human," he thought. "Almost may fit in, here in the Bane World, given some time. Well, if he lives long enough that is." The host wrapped the meat from his plate and took the dishes away.

[Vampire_Lowell]

Chapter III
The followers of the prophets are a severely religious group of mindless disciples. They see those who can make predictions and sense occurrences from faraway parts of the World of Affliction as honorable beings, and revere them in place of the gods they despise.
Such a following has existed for centuries, but it has not always been so. Those with prophetic abilities were originally not set apart from the rest. Like the entire population, the free will of these jovial creatures granted various properties, and foreknowledge was one of the less common. It wasn't until one individual received the premonition to climb to the summit of Mount Eldred that those with portentous abilities became an isolated society.
This prophet discovered that the mountain top offered a place to meditate, and also that he was able to, through this meditation, find and summon others who had possessed similar endowments. When the time arrived that all in the land with oracular powers had congregated to the peak, the majority agreed to stay and meditate together as a collective, learning of the World of Affliction and swearing to do all which they could to aide it. A small few, however, only stayed as long to discover the truth that no natural exit to the microcosm existed, and then angrily left the group to seek other possible means of escape. The dark prophets thus separated themselves from the pack.
By allowing their free will to flow freely, the ten remaining prophets have been able to sense nearly all which occurs within the Bane World. Their collaboration creates a field of free will greater than simply the sum of each prophet's amount, and so they spend nearly all of their hours in deep meditation. They only pause to report their findings to the group of followers which has developed after centuries of warnings offered, tragedies averted, and virtual safety granted.
When the followers began to congregate to the mountain, there were those who would mean to threaten the prophets. The quest for escape from this plane had brought many there, but not one brute accomplished to climb halfway to the pinnacle without his intentions being discovered and his body being destroyed by an avalanche or great storm. For this reason, only those who sought enlightenment or safety without using force to gain it were permitted to the peak to hear the revelations of these exalted wizards.
However, it would be foolish to assume that the followers of the prophets are weak and powerless. Many of the beings who hear the revelations have powers which are actually stronger than those of the creatures who had once meant to harm the seers. These faithful banes would never wish to use their powers to harm their revered oracles. Yet, they are always prepared to use their brunt at the call of these divine leaders. Such was the case now.
The prophets feared their premonitions portending to a single being of the World of Affliction rising to great power, bringing destruction to the entire realm. Thus, they were prompted to request their followers to seek out the being whom had recently entered their world from the outside. Termination of this creature may not only avert the destruction they foresaw, but also provide new insight for the prospect of escape from the Bane World.
The transgressor now had a price on his head.

[Cain]

W00000t

K33|) 1+ (0|\|\1|\|9 n0\/\/ ^^

[Vampire_Lowell]

Chapter IV
The boy awoke with a start.
"BAM, BAM, BAM..."
"Huh? What the..." He came to and looked about. Instead of sitting at the table, he was now positioned on the floor, covered with a half-patchwork, half-quilted spread. It appeared as though a long period of time had passed. The last he remembered was listening to his host rambling on about some skyscrapers.
"Hey where'd you go?" spoke the boy aloud, but Undecided was nowhere to be found. Only then did he realize the rapping which was persisting at the front door.
"BAM, BAM, BAM..."
Sleep! He had experienced sleep! As a god he had rested, but never lost consciousness like this. It made him feel frustratingly vulnerable.
"BAM, BAM, BAM..."
Realizing that he was the only one around, the boy approached the door and then halted. He really had no idea what may await him on the other side.
"BAM, BAM, BAM..."
Then again, what if it was Undecided returning from... wherever. But why wouldn't he let himself in?
"BAM, BAM, BAM..."
Finally, deciding that if it was a hostile visitor, it would forced its way in by now, and that no one really knew he was there anyway, the boy unlatched and slowly opened the...
"HellosiranddoIhaveadealforyou!Pleasehaveaseatandli stentothisgreatofferIhavewithmehereforyoufactorydi rectwithnoobligation!" As soon as the door was opened just a crack, a large figure shoved his way in and began to spew forth incessant dialog. As the visitor began setting up tables covered with small items, the boy fell backward into a chair the solicitor placed behind him.
"Wh-who the hell are...?"
"Justsittightandletmedothetalking!MynameisAnnoyinga ndIrepresentthelineoffineLATCorporationproducts!" As the man rambled on about his wares, the boy examined the business card which was shoved into his face.

Annoying:Sales Manager, Accountant, Distributer, Super Hero, and Lunch Boy. LAT CORP: PLEASE HIRE ME! (http://dpsycho.tripod.com/BaneWorldSagaI/card.gif)

"...airhockeytables,reggaemusictapes,swimmingflippe rs,SailorMoonactionfigures,dieselfuel,and, of course, PROTRACTORS!" The rapidly-speaking man slowed down for the final item on his list.
"How come you're the sales manager and the lunch boy?" queried the boy, commenting on the business card.
"Oh, that?" returned the man, snapping the card out of the boy's hands. "I'm the only one who works for my company," he explained. "I get a better pension plan this way. So, what'll it be?"
"Huh?"
"You deaf boy?" The man took a deep breath. "HellosiranddoIhaveadealforyou!Pleasehaveaseatandli sten..."
"No, stop!" shouted the boy, but the man continued, once again thrusting the business card to the boy. He sat and endured the sales pitch a second time.
"...dieselfuel,and, of course, PROTRACTORS! So, what'll it be?"
"Um, listen..."
"AGAIN? Well, ok." To the boy's horror, Annoying took another deep breath and began his speech for a third time. "HellosiranddoIhaveadealforyou!Pleasehaveaseatandli stentothisgreatofferIhavewithmehere..."
"BUT I DON'T HAVE ANY MONEY!!!" interrupted the captive audience of one.
"No money?" Annoying stared at the boy blankly. "Well, why didn't you say so. I'm also the man in charge of hiring new people for LAT Corp. We're always looking to increase our work force here!"
"But I thought you were the only..."
"A thinking boy, huh? Well, we have some uses for people who have even that capability!"
"No, no, no..."
"Don't give me an answer yet!" interrupted the man, producing a tall stack of papers from a briefcase. "Here's all of the paperwork, I'll be in my office. You know how to reach me."
"But..."
"And just one last thing," concluded Annoying. "Take this." He handed the boy a small, plastic semi-circular object. "This is one of my precious protractors. They are symbolic of annoyingness itself and posses the unique ability to channel free will to its maximum. Consider it my calling card. Have a nice day!"
With that, the man folded up the tables, tilted his hat, and left the home just as abruptly as he'd arrived. The boy was left standing there, his arms supporting a gigantic stack of documents which towered over his head, the man's crude business card, a small pen, and a protractor hanging from his pocket. After a moment of recollection, he discarded the pile of wasted trees and shoved the card bearing the name Annoying into his pocket as well.
"And to think I questioned the imprisonment of these vile creatures," the boy muttered to himself. Once again, the frustration which had always lead to fear crept over him. This time, however, there was another feeling. A longing for his old home he had known so well.
He missed the world of the gods which he could bend and manipulate at his own will. He craved the ability to envelop himself with the feeling of pleasure as he was once able to do simply by wishing for it. He thought of the other gods whom had tutored him in their ways, whom he had trusted, only for them to turn their backs on him and banish him to this hellish pit. Mostly, he thought of his companion god, the second recent who watched in horror as the equal's fate was sealed.
Now the feeling had sank to depression, and rose once more to anger. What right did they think they possessed crippling one of their own kind in such a way? So what if they did create him? Did he ever ask to be godlike? Then a realization came to the boy. As much as he had enjoyed the possession of godly power, he never would have dreadfully minded being a mere Earth-dwelling human from the start. At least then he wouldn't miss those powers as he presently did.
But then perhaps this belief was all just in comparison to his current situation, but truly anything would be more readily accepted than this. After all, Undecided had made it clear that it was every bane's wish to cross into the human world and escape the nightmare of its, and now his, existence here. It had only taken him one night to share this wish.
The boy also determined that it was not in his best interest to stay in one place of this world for his entire existence, so he searched around the small house, found some bread and pocketed it, not knowing the next time he'd have access to a meal. Determining from the pile of papers in the corner of the room that the Bane World writes in a crude form of English, (The boy, once a god, was actually fluent in all languages of the twentieth century Earth.) he picked up the pen and one of the sheets of paper to scrawl out a note, thanking the man for his hospitality and the bread he was taking. Pocketing the pen as well, and folding up a few of the pieces of paper to take with him, the boy left the house to continue his trek.

[Android21]

Wow, so many chapters up in so little time!

Kingdom of Psychos eh? Sounds like a fitting place for many of the members here, and of course, the newbies ^^

Cool storyline, long prologue, but gets good after that. Annoying is so annoying, wonder who else will make an appearance :?

[Vampire_Lowell]

Chapter V
"It seems awfully quiet around here," noted Ryan to himself. As the man passed through the market, he could sense tension in the air. Something was up, but it wasn't his concern what. He was here for his own purpose.
This wasn't the first time he'd found himself in the kingdom of the Psychos, but it was rare for him to travel there. He was aware that the sole reason that this market existed was because of the influence of the ruling brothers. As part of the elder's attempts to bring some minuscule level of order to the land, he had this site of commerce established... and enforced. Either way, the townsfolk spent much of the day at this locale, and if one sought to know anything, this was the best place in the land to learn it. The man pulled up his hood such that it concealed more of his face, and he began to mingle with the crowds of people near the various booths.

Once more, the wandering boy found himself at the town square among the unusual shoppers and vendors, but something was different about the area this morning. Everyone seemed somewhat quieter than they had been the previous day, and there was a apparent sense of nervousness. He was relieved, however, to discover that no one seemed to be giving much attention to him. He again walked around near the tables and items, glancing over them and searching for anything which may aid him in his travels. Most suitably, anything which may be utilized as a sort of weapon.
As he walked about, he began to notice a few things. Besides the definite stillness, there was also the fact that no one was moving about between the vendors. Relatively, everyone was staying in the same place, staring at the objects before them, not even appearing to purchase anything. It was a far different scene from the previous day when activity was bustling. An uneasiness was creeping over him, but he dared not ask anyone about the situation.
His uneasiness was justified as he looked back to the booths he had just passed. A man in a large, dark robe was speaking to one of the vendors, who now was pointing in his direction. The hooded man turned his head and spotted the boy, who in turn began walking again with a hastened pace.
The hooded man began moving toward him.
The boy broke to a trot.
The hooded man was now jogging past the tables.
The boy changed to an all-out sprint; the man removed his hood and followed suit.
Taking care to avoid running into shoppers, vendors and their tables, the boy dashed through the market trying to evade his pursuer. However, his shoes made running difficult and the man was quickly drawing nearer. The boy could now see that the man's right arm appeared longer than the other. At first, he didn't think much of it, and couldn't get a good enough look at it with his quick glances, but when the man held it out toward him, he could see what it was. It wasn't an extension of his arm, but a weapon. A crossbow was being aimed directly at him.
The boy took a quick turn to the left at the end of a row of booths, and, THOP!, was now flat on the ground, having hit something head-on.

Ryan was closely following the boy. "This has to be the one," he thought to himself as he loaded a bolt into his crossbow. "If his death will appease the prophets, then so be it." When the boy began to sprint, Ryan took down his hood and began the pursuit.
Through the trips and turns of his prey, Ryan was able to get close enough to fire at the boy. Extending his weapon, he fired the bolt a moment too late, flying straight into and severing a tent pole as the boy darted to the side. "Dammit," muttered the hunter as he sped up again and followed the turn.
But when he turned around the last booth, he was met with something he hadn't quite anticipated. Almost colliding with it, he came to an abrupt halt, panting and staring. Realizing he was still holding his crossbow out menacingly, he took a few paces back and was about to turn. About to turn, when a large axe swung toward the man and cleanly decapitated him. Ryan's crossbow and head landed together in the dust of the path, as the body too fell forward. Before too much of his red, vital fluid was shed, these three objects were recovered and dragged toward a wagon by the axe-wielding being.

[Vampire_Lowell]

Chapter VI
Silently, the castle of the brothers Psycho waited, surrounded by a dense forest, but situated on a hill from which the immediate surrounding area could be surveyed for any who would dare approach. Until late, no one would pace these walls as a guard, for no one was fool enough to attempt such an assault.
As a stronghold, the castle was near impenetrable. Yet, it was not the building's sheer walls which deterred offenders; that is, not so much as the castle's residents themselves did.
There were but three banes known to inhabit this place. The eldest was recognized and feared throughout the land as Dangerously Psycho, whose skill with the broadaxe, aggressiveness, and quick temper made him prominent. Still, he was most greatly noted for his desire to bring some orderly system to his kingdom, which is a wish very few of the Bane World possessed. But then he was in a position from which to enforce this wish. Lord Psycho understood fear to have always been the greatest device for control, and he wielded this weapon almost as well as his mighty battleaxe.
The younger of the brothers went by the name of Extremely. Also highly skilled with a particular blade, the younger preferred to swing a large sickle, also very proficient in a quick decapitation. He had not at first shared his brother's vision of control over the populous, but grew to enjoy the life of power. His interest, however, lay less in politics, but higher in warfare. The elder spoke of control over thousands as the younger spoke of strategy in battle, the chief difference between the Lord and his General.
The third being of this fortification was not much known throughout any land. Few really knew of him at all, for he wasn't a commander or a warrior, but a man by the name of Jester. As most of this world, his name described entirely who he was. Also known as the Bane of Bad British Comedy (which, somehow, is a name more people have heard than "Jester"), he serves as any jester would. He wears a ridiculous hat, observes all which happens for the brothers, and is responsible for comic relief, which comes naturally to him.
There were no other things known to live in the castle. Not even rodents, for even they in sport could not evade the blades of the brothers Psycho.
A wagon slowly made its way up the path to the great stone structure. Pulled by a four-headed butabull, Lord Psycho directed his cart carrying the components of Ryan's body and the unconscious boy. Upon his approach, he found the gates to his home shut, and knew what must have occurred.
"Jester!"
"Yes, sir?" called the voice of the harlequin. The comic leapt up to the parapet where he could be seen.
"It happened again?"
"Unfortunately so, Milord. Shall I open the gate?"
"Either that or bore me a new hole in the wall. Hurry up!" With this order, Jester jumped out of sight and the portcullis rose, allowing cart to roll through.

SWOOP! Like a flash, the swinging blade separated the heavy bag from the armor suit to which it had been affixed. Before the thud of the pouch's collision with the ground could be heard, another swing was taken. SWISH! A second bag atop another armor suit was sliced, just at its base, allowing the grain it had held to spill onto the cold stone floor of the great hall. Another consecutive sweep, and THOCK! The sickle was instead imbedded within the breastplate, leaving the unharmed sack at the position of a head, and sending an echo reverberating throughout the immense room.
"Dammit! Always the third one behind me! Every time, I swing too low," Extremely complained to himself.
"Just keep working on it," spoke Dangerously, who had just entered the hall. "If we're going to keep our enemies away, you're going to have to perfect your skills."
The boy looked at his brother distastefully. He didn't enjoy being critiqued on his combat abilities. "They attacked again while you were away."
"I know," was the only response.
"I finally got a good swing at one of them, but..."
"Your reaper swung through it like an illusion," completed the elder.
"You knew?"
"I guessed. Had such an army been naturally assembled, we would have known about it already."
"They have conquered other regions before this," noted Extremely.
"Always leaving the site totally destroyed. It's not conquer, it's devastation."
The two fell silent in their conversation about the mysterious army which had recently appeared in their land. Led by a man with a long, decorative sword, a militia of identical soldiers had marched across various regions of the Bane World, conquering large strongholds and those residents in power. The unusual aspect of these attacks was that after succeeding, the army would completely pulverize the site and disappear, coming forth again months later in another region to attack a different place. Now the army had begun trying to sack the castle of the brothers Psycho.
"So all of the carnage to this point has been the free will of their general? One man has done it all?" realized the younger Psycho.
"All of the soldiers are merely illusions created by his free will. They may be deadly and destructive, but merely manifestations of free will. What happened when you hit the soldier?" queried Dangerously.
"He just dissipated," recalled Extremely. No change in expression, just 'poof.'"
"So the army can be handled," thought the elder. "Of course, nothing can be accomplished until we oust the kingpin. The only way to put an end to the entire militia is to kill the general, and put an ultimate end to this intriguing use of his free will."
The concept of creating illusions, even illusions which could fully interact with their environments, was not unusual. However, what no one had ever before seen or documented was so many illusions being created by, apparently, one person.
"But how can one being possibly have so much free will?" argued Extremely. His brother turned and glared at him. "Oh, yeah." He had briefly forgotten his own brother to posses an inordinately high level of free will as well. While for many, this excessive free will would create some omnipotent lunatic, Dangerously had the ability to use his will to create mental links with members of the human society on Earth. "How is your current human puppet, anyway?"
He's been incarcerated. Only got life, though," replied the elder.
"I'll never understand their system of punishment," assessed Extremely.
"It's ok, though. I've got my eyes on others. Some can get a few viciously evil ideas sometimes."
The scene was interrupted as Jester bounded into the room. "Lord Psycho, those bodies you returned with?" he began.
"Oh, I forgot. I brought back a body to despleen and... well, a living somebody. Something odd about him," recounted the elder.
"They're both still alive!" disclosed the Jester.

The boy slowly came to on a stone floor. "Ooooh, my head," he sighed. "Damn this mortal imprisonment!" Then he looked around. "Where the hell..."
The room occupied was not small, but cluttered with numerous weapons which gave the place a cramped feeling. Rusted, long-neglected swords sat in a rack at the far wall, underneath a collection of maces and morning stars. These too were in horrible condition. On another wall, a line of longbows were splintering below worn, leather quivers of arrows with dissolving shafts. The room appeared to contain only useless, broken, and corroded arms, until he looked at the wall to his left.
There, adorning the wall, were lines of bright, well polished, sharpened axes. Tremendous broadaxes, battle- axes, tomahawks, woodcutting axes, small hatchets, and more. There were even meat cleavers and tiny scalpels, all shining and in perfect condition.
He turned to inspect the fourth wall, but instead of noting the collection of sickles, a heap on the floor gripped at his attention. There, two feet away from where he sat, was a quaking, headless body. His first reaction was one he could never have anticipated. Shuddering, the boy threw up onto the cold, stone floor.

"I HATE regeneratives!" complained Dangerously Psycho. If I had known..." A regenerative is another type of being which had developed in the World of Affliction. All of the creature's free will is put to use only in death, when he is able to reassemble, or regenerate, his body as necessary. Regeneration of these creatures, unlike most inhabitants of the Bane World, takes less than a day, usually just a few hours with all the pieces intact. Also, these creatures generally don't age. To kill a regenerative (requiring the usual five-year regeneration of all banes) is possible, but not with a blade. All pieces of his body would have to be destroyed indefinitely.
"I've despleened a few of them in my time, and gotten absolutely nothing out of it! The stupid creatures just regenerates themselves, and no matter how carefully I preserve the thing, the spleen just turns to dust in a few hours!" Psycho was approaching the armory where Jester had secured the bodies.
"But didn't you burn the rest of the body once? I thought that did it," asked Jester, who was leading the way to the room. Muffled shouts were now audible from the room.
"It did at first," explained Psycho, "until the damned spleen grew the creature around itself right there on my shelf! You just can't despleen a regenerative."

The boy was watching the moving corpse beside him. Sinews were reaching out from the throat of the torso and attaching themselves like threads to the head one foot away. Just as the head began to drag across the floor, the door to the room burst open and two figures stepped in, the first crushing his foot right onto the threads the corpse had constructed. Immediately, the sinews retracted and the man punted the head across the room.
As he observed this gratuitous act of violence, the boy was just as disgusted as he had previously been.
"Jester, throw both the body and head into the river. I don't want any regeneratives running around in my castle!" spoke the man who had interrupted the regeneration.
"Understood," the second man with a colorful hat adorned with bells sprung over and dragged the remains out of the room.
"You'll have to excuse my poor introduction," spoke the man. "I trust that the rogue chasing you through town was not an ally of yours, or are you both regeneratives?" There was an idea Lord Psycho didn't think very highly of. Regeneratives killing each other with full knowledge that they'd be up and ready again in a half a day. No sport in it whatsoever.
"Am I a what? Who are you?"
The man looked down upon the boy angrily. At least he appeared angry. Either way, the boy immediately wished he hadn't asked.
"You're... new around here, aren't you?" Here we go again. The boy would once more have to make up some explanation to avoid revealing his true past. "I know I've never seen you at the market before. You seem... different. There's some aura about you I can't explain. Just what are your powers anyway?"
"Powers?"
"Your abilities you use your free will for! Obviously you use them in some manner, or you wouldn't be calm enough to just sit there and listen to me for ten seconds," explained the man.
"I..." he was going to have to stretch with this one. What abilities did he posses? He hadn't been mortal long enough to know of any talents, and if he had simply claimed to be a human as he did for Undecided, this man may try to use him somehow as a way to Earth. But wait... "Earth," he spoke, almost immediately regretting it. "I have... a lot of knowledge about the people of Earth." This was going so badly, he wondered if he should have just stuck to his 'human' explanation.
"A prophet?" questioned the man.
"Um..." He didn't know what to say. Were there prophets in this world? His knowledge was limited to Earth's history, and not present or future events. "...no, I just know a lot about Earth's... history." Where was he going with this?
"Have a name?" asked the man. Wonderful. This question again. The boy figured he should settle on one eventually.
"Not really," was his initial response.
"Hm..." the man thought aloud. "No name, no apparent free will, you don't know who I am, some regenerative was specifically trying to kill you... I have a feeling you're not being quite level with me. If you really have knowledge of Earth, then tell me what you know about the Donner Party."
The what? He couldn't mean... "Wasn't that some group of people in early America? They were... traveling west that resorted to... cannibalism," Why the hell would he ask him about that? He then became aware of the fact that this man apparently stockpiles weapons, and was brandishing an axe right now. Fortunately, however, having answered his question, the man put his axe away.
"Well, you were right. I'm still not sure yet that you're not toying with me, though. You honestly don't know who I am?"
He shook his head in reply.
"I'm Dangerously Psycho, Lord of this land, and it would serve you well to remember that. Why was that man trying to kill you?"
"I... I was warned that my knowledge of Earth endangers me. That certain people may suppose that I know how to go to Earth, but I don't," This was really not going well. The boy realized that he was practically telling his entire life story to this intimidating bane. What if he, too...
"But to kill you? This does seem odd..." the man did not get to complete his statement before the harlequin bounded back into the armory.
"Lord Psycho, the drumbeats!"
"Dammit! You, uh, whats-yer name, follow me and hurry." Both characters left the room, leaving the boy to follow.

[wastaz]

Looooowweeeelllll...........

We are in need of more chapters ^_^
even though I'm dead after reading too much in one day ^^

[Vampire_Lowell]

Chapter VII
Extremely stood on the parapet overlooking the rear of the castle. He could hear the steady rapping of a drum nearby but didn't see any sign of... there. Now he saw them, suddenly, there amongst the trees. There were a good twenty already, and for many more of them to appear was inevitable.
"Where are they?" called Dangerously. Extremely could hear his brother's footsteps on the stairs to the parapet.
"I see them, they're advancing through the trees," answered the younger Psycho. At once, trees began falling in their paths. "It's begun again!"
Jester and the boy were now at the castle wall as well. "What's happening?" whispered the once-deity.
"We're under attack," replied the harlequin. "These guys have been giving us trouble for a couple of weeks now, but the attacks are becoming stronger and more frequent. A mere two hours ago, they actually breached the walls of this fortress."
"Boy, come here!" commanded Lord Psycho. "Do you see them?"
He walked to the edge and peered into the trees. They weren't hard to spot. Trees were falling within five feet of each soldier. "Yeah, they're..." THWAP!
He was on his knees. "Damn! What was that?!" He had been socked in the back of the head. He looked up at Dangerously, whose attention was still with the soldiers.
"They're all still there," noted Extremely.
"Hm," Lord Psycho helped the boy up again without an apology. "Well, apparently you aren't helping them with their attack. You have to understand that I suspected you, what with you're low free will and all. This is my brother, Extremely Psycho."
"He didn't know?" queried the comic.
"Oh, and this of course is Jester..."
"In the flesh!" concluded the joker.
"Let's cut the introductions and do something!" suggested Extremely. Talking won't decrease the threat any."
"Here," offered Dangerously, handing Ryan's crossbow and bolts to the boy. "I picked this up off of your friendly assassin. Do you know how to use one of these things?"
"I think so," he answered, accepting the weapon.
"There..." sighed Extremely as he spotted the man with the decorative sword. "Oust the kingpin, right?"
Suddenly, the general and six other soldiers tripled their speed and in no time slid right through the solid wall of the fortress.
"I'll handle him," informed Dangerously. "You keep any more from entering. With that, he ran back down the steps.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" demanded Extremely just before leaping down to the outside of the wall. The boy loaded the bow and sent a shot sailing into the trees. It didn't appear that he had hit anything, but a soldier did disappear right before his eyes.
"Nice shot, but let's aim for something this time!" suggested Jester as he bounded back down the steps.

The general and his six soldiers moved silently through the castle, destroying the ornate furniture and decorations as they passed. Soon they began destroying walls before them too, until they reached a great hall with a large door at each of the four walls. The general began pointing directions as a voice filled and echoed within the immense room.
"Welcome! Welcome all of you to the wonderful Psycho palace! My, home, and now yours as well!" Dangerously Psycho was speaking from a balcony overlooking the entire scene. "Please, stay awhile, and have a heaping helping of our hospitality!" With his speech concluded, the Lord of the Psychos jumped to the main floor and advanced toward the troops who in turn charged him.
One soldier didn't take five steps before being pierced by a small dagger. Jester had concealed himself behind a tapestry and emerged right into the path of the apparition, who promptly lunged himself into the comic's drawn blade. The soldier immediately vanished, and Jester cartwheeled his way out of the room, laughing.
Psycho had an equally simple time eradicating the remaining five. One swing, one parry, and a second swing was all that it took to dispel the illusions. Now all who remained was the General, brandishing his sword.

"Just try to keep them away from the castle wall!" shouted Extremely, swinging his sickle and vaporizing the soldiers. "When my brother destroys the general, they'll al vanish!"
The boy strung and fired another bolt, this time piercing a soldier's leg. "But how did they move through the wall like that?" he yelled.
"They're illusions! They can move about anywhere, so be on your guard!" Extremely took another swing and destroyed another apparition. "And there're more approaching!"
"But the general was an illusion too?"
"Huh?" Extremely lowered his guard long enough to almost lose his head to one of the soldiers' swords, but blocked it and stabbed his blade into its side. "Spiteful gods, the general DID go through the wall! This means the general can't be the one..."

Lord Psycho was now in combat with the general whom he'd believed to be the cause of everything. Unlike the foot-soldiers, this warrior proved to be a formidable opponent.
"Going around, destroying things with your free-will mercenaries. You've finally made the fatal choice which will end your rampaging, bane! You've decided to clash weapons with Dangerously Psycho!"
The general didn't say a word, but began swinging his blade toward the man. Psycho darted to the side and swung, but the general's sword had already moved into position and blocked it.
"You're pretty quick with that thing," began Psycho, but then the general stepped back and held his sword before him. As the Lord watched, the general's decorative sword began changing shape, and was now a large, ornate battle- axe. Without a change in expression, the general lunged at Psycho.
"Hm, so even your weapon is one of your illusions. A very durable illusion, but still," Psycho used the handle of his axe to deflect the weapon which was being charged toward him. Quickly, he shifted his position and shoved the blade of his axe into the general's side. It did not go very deep, however, for at that very moment a thick, shimmering suit of armor formed upon the unwounded general.
"Crafty," panted Psycho, leaping back. He was tiring, and this opponent didn't seem to be vulnerable to any strategy he attempted. The general started toward him once more.
"You seem to be pretty good at avoiding my blade, but how about this?" Psycho sprinted toward the general, who lifted his axe in anticipation. Just before entering the range of his swing, however, Psycho changed direction, swung and slid behind the general who slammed and imbedded his axe into the stone floor. Psycho used the handle of his axe to trip the man. Immediately as the general hit the floor, the Lord leaped to his feet and lunged the brunt of his axe's handle into the man's chest.
Surprisingly, a hole opened through his chest, allowing the handle to be jammed into the stone lobby instead.
"What the hell?" The general was looking up at Psycho with a hole in his chest, neatly surrounding the handle which was now splintered with the force upon the floor. The hole closed, rejecting the blade, and leaving the general unharmed.
"Y-you're one of the damned illusions!"
Jester had been watching this all from the doorway. Understanding that he couldn't help his master against this opponent, he immediately left to inform Extremely.

"If the general isn't the cause of this, then who the hell is?" shouted Extremely, amid a new pack of soldiers.
"It has to be one of these identical soldiers!" answered the boy. He was nearing the last few bolts for his crossbow, and was now concentrating on hitting two or more soldiers with each shot. This was becoming easier as the number rapidly increased.
Young Psycho was becoming overwhelmed by the immense horde of attackers now around him. The drumbeats were becoming louder, but they were losing the beat they had before. "There're too many soldiers," thought Extremely to himself. "The source of the soldiers must be concentrating too much. If I can just hold out a little longer..." By now, more had made it to and were entering the castle wall.

The boy watched as soldiers surrounded Extremely. "Damn, I'm out of bolts," he realized. There was nothing which he could do.

Extremely wasn't going to give up just yet. The drumbeats, now with no rhythm whatsoever, were right upon him. Adrenaline flowing, the young Psycho took a fast swing at a soldier. Then another, dissipating one to his side. He quickly turned, in fear for his life, and...
"Aaargh!" The shout came just as the last swing was made.

Dangerously was pinned up against the wall, fending off blows when the general faded away.

Jester was hanging on a tapestry when the soldiers whom had cornered him disappeared as well.

"My drum! You've destroyed my drum!" the Drum Boy was in a panic. The instrument he'd been tapping upon now had been completely severed by Extremely's sickle.
"Always the third swing," muttered Extremely. "Every time, too low."

[Vampire_Lowell]

Chapter VIII
"Just what do you have to say for yourself, now?" interrogated Lord Psycho. "What could possibly have led you to think that you could go around with your illusions and destroy the entire world?"
"Divine right," answered the Drum Boy. "Same self- appointed right which enables you to rule over this section of the World of Affliction," The prisoner glanced about the room. Among the three residents of the fortress was a fourth captor, a young boy.

The once-deity felt uneasy as the Drum Boy's glance fell upon him. He watched the confident expression on the prisoner's face change.
"My brother rules over the people to try to avert 'unpleasantries' in our society, knave. Not because of some divine..." began the younger Psycho.
"That boy," interrupted the Drum Boy, "who is he?" The prisoner was still staring directly at him.
"What concern is it of yours?" snapped Jester.
"We'll discuss it later," continued Dangerously, taking a sideways glance at the boy.
Just what he needed. The boy knew he would be in for more questioning before his stay was done.
"Why try to destroy the World of Affliction, anyway?" continued the Lord. "What could you possibly get out of it?"
"A sense of accomplishment," sniveled the Drum Boy. "I find the mass destruction of places to be very appealing. Not just here, either, mind you!"
The brothers made a glance toward one another. "Where else do you mean?" Extremely questioned.

Dangerously knew what the reply would be before the captive muttered it. It was almost to be expected for someone with such a tremendous output of free will.
"Obviously, I'm referring to the links I share with the populous of human Earth," responded the Drum Boy, "a skill I'm aware your brother possesses," Lord Psycho felt red as the Drum Boy stared him directly in the eye, as if with vicious understanding.
"Of course, this leads me back to this other guest," continued the war criminal. "He is not quite like you and me, but I believe you've sensed this yourself already?" Lord Psycho wished to defend his newfound ally, but at the same time was intrigued to hear what this Drum Boy had to say, and so replied nothing.
"I'm unsure, of course, never having experienced it before, but this boy feels to have..." The Drum Boy thought of how to phrase it, "...an equilibrium of forces."
"A nekwa-who?" Jester was completely baffled. Even the once-deity himself wasn't certain what had just been said about him, but understood that trouble was arising.
"He has an amount of, dare I say it, self control within him, balanced with his free will. This boy is, I believe, human!"
The Recent stood there. Everything was quiet as the congregation averted its attention toward him. He felt that he couldn't breathe, and then... laughter. Someone was laughing!"
"Ha! Some joke!" Extremely was speaking directly to the boy's accuser. "I don't know what trick you're trying to pull on us, but it's not going to work!"
Jester nodded in agreement. He knew it was a trick all along.
"Even in your own defeat, you take it upon yourself to insult my friends," noted Dangerously. "This interrogation is over. Jester, take him to the cells. I'll despleen him in the morning."
The boy exhaled in relief. Yet he knew that he'd have even more explaining to do soon.

That evening, the once-deity was invited to join the residents of the Castle Psycho in their routine banquet. Although he did not know what sort of courses to anticipate, the boy was grateful for the chance to eat something. To have to eat for self-preservation was a concept he was slowly learning to endure.
The banquet hall of the fortress was only slightly more ornate than the rest of the establishment. However, this was only characterized by the existence of a large plate glass window on the west wall allowing the passage of light from the radiant satellite which hovers overhead the World of Affliction in place of a sun. (This satellite was one of many indications the boy had noted of the haste in which the gods had created this plane in loose resemblance to human Earth.) A large table stretched from one wall of this room to the other, nearly touching the edge of the room at each end. Around this table were situated about three-score seats and the dinner guests: Extremely, Jester, and the boy. Dangerously was not present.
The boy looked at the dish which had been set before him by the harlequin. As far as he could tell, dinner this night consisted of the cooked limbs of some creature, the appearance of which he could not determine. He didn't dare question the history of his supper. The boy understood the risk of going hungry without it combined with the risk of insulting his easily-tempered masters of ceremonies, so he followed the example of his hosts and picked up the meat in his hands, tearing off bits and pieces with his teeth. Retaining some preference in the matter, he did decide to leave alone the glass of rank-smelling red juice.
Between greedy bites, he did find time to bring a question before his dinner companions. "What happened to Dangerously?" he spoke to the younger Psycho brother.
"I'm not sure," he responded, then clearing his palette with a swig from his goblet. "It is like him to phase out on these things without warning, though. He's never one to hold to any kind of schedule. It is interesting how one who tries so hard to organize townsfolk would be so apt to go off on such tangents."
"Wherever he is, he'll pick up something to eat later," added Jester.
The three continued their suppers silently.

The Drum Boy sat alone in the dark, single cell of the Castle Psycho. The lack of its use was apparent. Rarely had there ever been an overflow of victims which couldn't be handled by the Psychotic in one evening. Even in this morbid predicament, the prisoner understood that there was something less common in store for him than for the others to have graced this cell.
After an uneventful anticipation, the prisoner could finally hear footsteps approaching his cell. A voice called from the shadows.
"So, you're still here?"
"Where would you expect me to have gone?" replied the captive.
"I gave Jester the orders to lock you up with full knowledge that your mind tricks could easily be used to cast an image of myself with a contrary order," explained Dangerously. "What made you decide to hang around?"
"You put up a decent fight against my apparition, and your sibling defeated me fairly in battle. For that I hold a certain respect, and will yield to you... for awhile, anyway."
"You do realize that he was aiming for your neck."
"It only would have made the situation more interesting," decreed the Drum Boy. "I will remain here for a few days perhaps, or until you choose to kill me, at which point I will escape. Surely you expected no less?"
"Darwin, was it?"
"Hm? I believe you're changing subjects here."
"The human who outlined the concept of the strong surviving. The gods intended it for Earth, and it inevitably became the way of this world as well."
"True, very true. The regenerations of we banes was not implied, just a result, wasn't it?"
"I believe so." Psycho and his prisoner began to discuss the caricature "evolution" of Banes. "With the way our standard regenerations provide a unique and independent form with each occurrence, and with only some influence on the result from the location and nature of the 'death', it became only natural that any stronger beings to spawn would retain that form, as a stronger being would not so often experience the conclusive end of current 'life.' Naturally, those who take on forms of vast free will such as you and I would never be defeated by another bane."
"And as time progresses, the average inhabitant of this world will be stronger than before as the weak are, well, reshuffled and dealt new attributes. Note the steady decline of the butacow," pointed out the Drum Boy.
"But I didn't come down here to converse only on the science of things in history," continued Psycho. "Besides the apparent curiosity of whether or not you'd actually chosen to stay here, I came to discover exactly what it was you were trying to say about our guest. You were correct in assessing some peculiarity about him."
"Well, naturally. What has he told you?"
"Really, if you don't mind, I came all this way to ask you the questions. Answer satisfactorily, and I may contribute my knowledge."
"Very well, then," began the Drum Boy. "We are all aware that we are imprisoned here due to the error of the gods. When they first attempted the creation of life, we beings of complete free will were the initial result. However, we became too dominant and destructive, and when the foolish lords found that they did not have the capability to destroy us as easily as we were created, we were all sealed here."
"We are all aware of our circumstances, knave. Tell me what this has to do with the boy."
"Oh, aren't we testy? Very well. Our successors on human Earth were created with an opposing force to be balanced with the free will, one of self control. They were also created with the ability of the gods to actually and ultimately destroy the souls if deemed necessary, so future problems would not have to be solved with the sequestering we face."
"And of course," interceded Psycho, "you were able to detect this opposing force of self control. Intriguing. So you theorize that this boy was once an inhabitant of Earth?"
"It is something beyond that," continued the prisoner. "How could a mere human have possibly transgressed into the World of Affliction, The prison of the Banes? And if he is human, he could have simply been destroyed by the gods rather than thrown in here. He is something far different. But what is he, I ask you now?"
"I suppose it's my turn to contribute," spoke Psycho. "I had asked him how he managed to remain so calm, as I had not detected much free will emanating from him. His explanation was a possession of Earthen knowledge, for which he was able to provide an example. It seems to validate your idea of his being from the outside, but yet why would he pretend to be a bane?"
"It could be out of fear. But I believe that if he does know a way to pass between worlds, it is in our interest to wrest this information from him."
"He is still a guest of mine, and will be treated with respect!" retorted the suddenly irritated Psycho. "I shall ask him about it, and he will be persuaded to tell no more than he wishes!"
"I will point out that you'd be missing out on the one opportunity every inhabitant of this plane wishes to possess," concluded the captive as Psycho stormed angrily from the dungeon.

[Vampire_Lowell]

Chapter IX
The deity sat among the clouds, watching over the people who lived their lives below. There was a stillness in the air, and he couldn't quite figure out why. He watched then, as everything below stopped, and all the faces of the world below looked up and straight at him. But how could they see him? Although he had been miles above, he now found that he was within arm's reach of the people, who reached up and tore him down from his perch. They began to tear at his clothing, and he could now see that they weren't all people, but multi-limbed creatures with hair and scales and weapons. He shouted up to the sky. He could see other gods above, now turning their backs to him and leaving. The other Recent, his companion, stood... laughing... He began to writhe in fear and pain as the creatures tore into his skin with their claws.
"Oof! Wha...?" The boy awoke in a cold sweat beside his bed on the floor of the guest room. He could feel pain in the back of his head where he had landed on the cold stone. For a moment he felt relaxed to return to reality, but then panicked once more with the realization of his situation in this reality. He was still mortal, and still doomed to the World of Affliction.
He climbed back into the bed, but unable to fall back asleep, the boy emerged once more and left the room. He began to traverse the halls of the castle, and hearing noises from a particular direction, began to follow.
The boy found the brothers Psycho sparring in the main hall. Jester stood to the side, half observing as he polished his dagger. The boy too began to watch the two battle each other.
"Come on, Ex, you can put more into it than that!"
"You don't get tired, do you?" panted the younger Psycho." Taking a swift overhead swing, his sickle was blocked by the shaft of the battleaxe.
"Haven't had any reason to yet, actually," teased the elder. Noticing the boy's presence, Dangerously vaulted over his brother to greet him. "Slept well, I hope?"
"Yeah," lied the boy. "Are you expecting somebody?"
"No," responded the uninterested Jester without looking up. "This routine starts off each day. Feel like some exercise yourself?" he added with a grin.
"Um... no thanks."
"What is your weapon of choice, anyway?" asked Extremely. "You weren't very good with that crossbow to begin with, and.. OUCH!" His older brother had elbowed him in the side.
"What he means is, what are you most proficient with? You didn't even have a blade in the market, which I assume is why you were fleeing that regenerative."
The boy knew very well that he had never touched a weapon before the crossbow of the previous day. Never having had a use for such things within the society of the gods, this experience was introducing him to many unforseen facets of life and imposing new requirements upon him. "I'm... not very experienced with much of anything."
"Hmm..." Lord Psycho seemed displeased with this response. "This is going to have to change if you plan to travel far within the Bane World."
"Yeah, well, I'm not quite used to all of this."
"So where in this new land do you plan to travel next?"
"I don't really know enough about this place yet to..."
The boy immediately froze. What in the hell am I saying???
"It's ok," stated the grinning Lord Psycho. Jester and Extremely glanced at each other in the sudden tension and confusion. "It's not something you'll be able to hide easily. You have nothing to fear from us, however. We are curious as to how you were able to arrive here, in the World of Affliction that is. You don't have to speak now if you're uncomfortable, though."
"Um..." Being put on the spot like that was, nonetheless, very uncomfortable for the boy, who stood in an uneasy silence.
"We are just curious, you must understand," reaffirmed the elder as he turned to his brother. "Shall we continue, Ex?"
"By all means," responded the brother, glancing over toward the boy. "Go and have some breakfast, if you wish. Jester, bring him to the banquet hall."
"Yessir!" The harlequin bounded to the doorway. The boy hastily followed him.

"Never did catch your name, you know."
"Huh?" This statement caught the nervous boy off guard.
"Are you at all ready to trust us here yet?" queried Jester.
"Um, I honestly don't know what I should be called," responded the boy.
"Well, then, it looks as though we have to make one up for you!" decided Jester. "Anything in mind?"
"Make up a name for me?" The boy realized that wherever he went from thereafter, having a name would simplify things incredibly.
"How about something simple?" suggested Jester. "How about I or Confused or, dare I suggest, Normal?"
"Is everyone here named as an adjective?" wondered the boy aloud.
"Well, no. My name's an occupation. Then there're those Interrogatives. And one shouldn't forget Mad Adam."
"Mad Adam?" queried the boy.
"Of course. Mad Adam is a palindrome."
"Can't I have a more inconspicuous name?"
"Anything less would probably stand out, but there have been those who adopt names frequent of human Earth. Would you like something like Arthur, or Robin, Bedevere, Tim, or Galahad? How about Zoot?
"Who?"
"No, Who is taken, last I've heard."
"No, I meant... oh, never mind. You said Tim?"
"Well, maybe you'd like something along the lines of..."
"No, no," interrupted the boy. "I think I'll just go by Tim."
"Really? Well, I'm sure I could come up with a few better..."
"Trust me, just Tim is fine," affirmed the boy. "How far are we from the banquet hall anyway?"
"Oh, we've gone past it twice already. I just wanted to keep talking." Jester threw open the double doors to the room with the long table and stained glass. Due to the morning hour, little light came in through the west-facing windows, and the room now contained numerous dark shadows.
"Why's it so dark in here?" questioned Tim.
"Lord Psycho never was much of a morning person. They rarely use this room for breakfast anyway. In fact, the Lord used to go out and catch his own lunch every day before noon. Would you like anything in particular?"
Recalling the various meats he'd experienced previously, he replied, "Do you have any bread?"
"Yeah, I think..."
The conversation was brought to a sudden halt as a fireball screamed past the two and destroyed a chair in a massive explosion.
"Get down, boy!" shouted Jester. "The Castle Psycho has another challenger, or so it would appear!" Jester pulled out his dagger and flipped up onto the table. The boy, after a half a moment of surprise, scrambled underneath it.
"Ok, who's there?" shouted the harlequin. "Who dares invade the domain of the Psycho brothers?"
His question was responded with another blast which opened a crater in the table where he had been standing. Jester's forward flip landed him within clear view of the antagonist. Clinging to the far wall was a shadowy figure with two gemlike eyes peering over the room. With his discovery, the creature spoke with a low, rasping voice.
"My quarrel here is not with you, or with your psychotic allies, joker. The Prophets seek the death of the transgressor you have been harboring, and I will deliver him to them, even if I must tear a path through you to do so."
"I warn you not to underestimate my abilities," replied Jester. Avoiding a third fiery projectile, he leapt to the side wall and launched himself, dagger forward, into the demon. But like a shadow, the creature moved along the wall, inhabiting another dark region past the corner. Jester's blade lodged itself within the wall where the beast had been.
"Well, you're a fast one!" shouted Jester.
"My power lies not in my speed," retorted the creature as he threw another stream of fire at the harlequin. Jester bounded away as the wall around his dagger was scorched and became soft with the heat. The room had become darker than it was a few moments before, and preparing for another attack, Jester noticed Tim emerge on the other side of the room.
"Ah, there's the one I seek! Enough toying with you, joker."
"Tim! What are you doing?!" The boy was walking toward the creature with a stern look on his face. The creature moved quickly to envelop the boy, who disappeared on contact.
"What the...?" rasped the demon. Suddenly, a portion of the wall vanished as well, revealing the stained glass window which had always been there. "No! This is a trick!" The creature seemed stunned by the little light which cascaded onto him through the glass. Then, confidently, the Drum Boy entered the room. Walking to the ornate window and pulling out a large mallet, the man shattered the glass, allowing light to pour in onto the beast. "Aaaaarrgh! The light! You... this cannot be!" The creature, like a shadow, faded in the morning light.

Chapter X
Tim, who'd been under the table for the entire battle crawled out now, and ran over to stand next to Jester. The two watched the Drum Boy inspect his mallet and put it away.
"So, any idea why the Prophets would send someone like him out after you?" asked the Drum Boy without looking up.
"How did you get out of your cell?" demanded Jester.
"Relax," answered the man. "I just saved both of your hides."
"What in the heck just happened in here?" inquired Lord Psycho, who burst into the room, his brother a few seconds behind. "Oh, so you finally emerged, Drum Boy."
"Yeah, well I might have stayed longer if you'd thought to bring me something to eat. By the way, you guys had company. Sorry about the window."
"A shadow creature was here seeking the boy," continued Jester.
"You didn't try a frontal attack on it, did you?" joked Dangerously.
"Um, well..."
"He claimed that the Prophets wanted the boy," interrupted Drum Boy, motioning toward Tim. "Did you get any information out of him yet?"
"Information about what? I don't know why anyone would want to kill me!"
"If the Prophets are after you, then something must be direly wrong. They usually keep to themselves. I'm asking you again, and this time with the most seriousness, is there anything about you you'd like to tell us you haven't revealed yet?" grilled Lord Psycho.
"Yeah, how'd you get here to begin with?" added Extremely.
The boy was beside himself once more. There was a definite force in the World of Affliction which intended to kill him, and he wasn't at all close to understanding why. He wasn't sure if he could trust the four in the room, especially not the Drum Boy. But these were the closest he had to friends here, and perhaps he should tell them of his true origins? But then, how would their knowledge of his existence as a generic god enable them to help him at all? He knew he could gain better answers without revealing too much. If he was going to survive here, his entire known past should be that of Tim from human Earth. But then, how did he get here? It was time he developed a final explanation and stuck to it wherever he traveled. Of course, the simplest explanation would be...
"I have no recollection of how I got here, other than my sudden falling from the sky a few days ago. I cannot recall my life on Earth very well, only general and factual information. I don't remember my name... But Tim seemed somewhat familiar to me. I was told by one of the first people I met here not to reveal my identity for risk of those who may seek me for some knowledge of means of escape from this world, and it's a philosophy I've accepted thus far. Beyond this, I know nothing. I swear." He wasn't sure who he was supposedly swearing to. The gods couldn't hear his claims here, which was just as well.
After a moment's silence, Lord Psycho muttered the first response, "Odd." Then after a pause, "That doesn't explain why the Prophets would order you eliminated, however."
"Who are the Prophets, anyway?"
"Oh, some group of nuts on a mountain who use their free will to sense changes in the powers of this world," explained Jester. "They sensed when Nirwena was destroyed and predicted a heat spell, among other trivial events. "Usually, they keep to themselves and serve only to keep their followers impressed, although they have actually helped all of us with their knowledge on a few scattered occasions. They rarely will try to directly intervene with the processes of this world, however. They only showed slight interest when the one technician transgressed to the outside world."
"They're referred to as builders, Jester," corrected Extremely.
"Either way, it's rare to see them actually show interest in meddling with the affairs of those who live below their sacred Mount Eldred," continued Drum Boy. "Wherever you tarry from here on, you'll have to watch your back, Tim. Unless you wish to seek an answer from them directly."
"You aren't actually suggesting that he make the pilgrimage to their mountain when they're all trying to KILL him. do you?" asked Extremely.
"Actually, it's a great idea," assessed Dangerously. "A better alternative to having to be guarded for an eternity. Besides, the Prophets themselves are hardly a threat. It's some of their followers who would pose a problem. If they're all off the mountain looking for him now, he may as well give it a try."
Tim listened to this conversation intently. Although what they were suggesting of him was highly objectionable, it made some amount of sense to the boy. He decided to keep quiet and see what developed.
"But naturally they'd sense his approach! He'd have no way of making it safely, even if he had all four of us guarding him!" claimed Jester. "They'd pick him off in an instant!"
"Well, then, we'd just have to find some way of clouding over the minds of the Prophets," suggested Drum Boy. "I'm sure you're all aware..."
"Oh, come on!" intermitted Extremely. "He'd come off worse seeking the aid of the Interrogatives than he would going to Mount Eldred alone!"
"Not necessarily. There are those who associate with them," pointed out Dangerously.
"Yeah, but they're often just as confusing!" argued Jester.
"It's still an option. Then again, if he wished, he could examine the screen in the City," continued Dangerously.
"Another perilous journey, of course," added Drum Boy.
"The visions of human Earth may incite some portion of his lost knowledge, and that knowledge may enable him to discover the way in which the builder made it to Earth," declared Dangerously. "If he can discover a way to Earth, I believe it would be at least worth our while to direct him."
"It's quite a long shot, you realize. Thousands have sought an answer from that screen, and numerous banes have killed each other over the fabled solution which was never discovered," admitted Jester. "Yet, there aren't many other options. I just don't see how Tim can possibly expect to live, a human in the Bane World, anyway.
"Well perhaps it's time then that the human made a decision for himself," suggested Extremely.
The four turned toward the silent boy.


End of Episode One.