"Disarmed" --The quest to retrieve Naari begins here.

You know he’s the most powerful Legionnaire of all, right?”
“Visionary?” Hacker Nine questioned.
“Oh yeah,” agreed NTU-150 as he helped evacuate the juniors onto Donar’s goat-cart to be cared for in the Ausgardian Halls of Healing. “He’s the guy with all of our pager numbers.”

--From Untold Tales #196

Visionary looked up from the mission reports of the team’s previous experiences in the Mythlands. “Jay” he acknowledged his fellow Legionnaire warily, backlit by the multiple screens that the Manga Shoggoth used to watch Anime. Currently they were running fairy-tale videos, from Brothers Grimm to Disney. “Did Sir Mumphrey send you?” he asked, returning to his reading.

“No” Hatman answered, looking over the screens. “No, I thought I would come down here on my own accord. After your heated disagreement with Mumphrey back when Lisa and Dancer were taken hostage by the Hellraisers, I don’t a confrontation over the current situation would be good… Not for the team, not for you, and after what he’s just been through, certainly not for Mumphrey.” He sighed and removed his hat long enough to run a hand through his hair, then gestured to the screens. “All research?” he asked.

Visionary nodded. “It can’t hurt. Well, okay… some of the puns from Bullwinkle’s “Fractured Fairy Tales” make me wince…” He noted grumpily, resting his chin in his hand. “How can you prepare for anything when you’re going to a place where literally anything could happen?”

The younger Legionnaire sat down heavily in an open chair along the monitor banks. “I don’t know. Obviously, it’s not one of my favorite places.”

Visionary looked up sadly. Jay Boaz was a living example of just how treacherous the Mythlands could be. His last trip there had left him imprisoned for months of time in the real world while a changeling took his shape, only to be subsequently killed in his stead. Believing him dead, the toll on the love of his life… Whitney Darkness, aka Sorceress… had been enormous. The toll for his return, however, had been unfathomable.

Visionary sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up…”

“Lost children and the Mythlands?” Hatman finished for him. “It’s a pretty unavoidable topic… The Hooded Hood made me choose between this life and Whitney’s fantasy… one where the two of us were expecting a child of our own, but twisted so that much of the Legion had been decimated… That’s not a decision that I’m ever going to fully escape, and on dark and lonely nights it creeps back into my thoughts even without the help of everything that’s happening currently.”

“Do you feel you made the right choice?”

Hatman stared ahead and set his jaw. “Yes, but do you want the honest truth? Right or wrong… doesn’t really matter much when you’re alone in the dark of the night afterwards. Having to make the choice at all is the devastating part.”

“Mumphrey made his choice” Visionary said flatly, referring to the ugliness with Commander Black and his granddaughter, Samantha. “The good of the world. What must be done. His duty was clear, and he did it.”

“He did” Jay agreed. “And thankfully things worked out as best as they could have.”

Visionary nodded, his expression still guarded. “I’m not Mumphrey.”

Hatman considered his teammate carefully. “No… No, Sir Mumphrey’s unwavering commitment to duty in the face of overwhelming odds and terror is his strong point. Without it, I don’t know that we’d have had a chance of withstanding all that the Parody Master has arrayed against us. You have an unwavering commitment to people… to friends and family… the personal, rather than the abstract of the greater good. Mumphrey preserves the big picture, you focus on the sometimes forgotten individual details. And the Legion is stronger for the both of you. In the end, though, Mumphrey’s no more all about duty than you are all about family. These aren’t easy choices for either of you.”

Visionary went back to staring at his printouts without really seeing them. “May as well get on with it then, now that the preamble is out of the way…” he said, swallowing with a tense jaw. “We both have a lot to do tonight.”

Hatman sighed, then drew a breath. “You know if you ask, you’d be unstoppable. Lisa, Donar, Yo, Dancer… Whatever Camellia has waiting in the Mythlands wouldn’t know what hit them.” He leaned forward. “With them, you could storm the Many Colored Lands and bring Naari back in triumph… You know it in your bones. But you also know what’s coming here… How we’re going to be taxed to just hold our own. That we need every one of them if we’re to have a chance of keeping the big picture from collapsing.”

Visionary turned his dark eyes on the young Legionnaire. “So what are you suggesting?”

Jay met his gaze earnestly. “Don’t ask them.”

“Duty before family” the Regular stated sickly. “And know that I didn’t do everything possible to rescue my daughter because there were more important things to consider.”

Hatman shook his head. “I don’t ask this because my duty compels me to keep them manning the wall. I don’t ask this because I worry about how much everyone on the team wants to drop everything to rescue Naari… I ask it because I know what it’s like to have to choose. You do as well. You can spare turning our friends inside out with this choice, no matter what they would decide… You can spare them from being haunted with the repercussions of it in the dark of the night.” He looked to the Regular with regret. “You already knew all of the logical, big picture reasons why they need to stay behind. But sometimes it’s the little reasons that end up saving the day.”

Visionary simply stared into the monitors as Hatman, having said his piece, stood to leave. It wasn’t until he reached the door that the Regular finally spoke. “Promise me something, Jay… On your honor as a Knight.”

“Yes?”

Visionary looked to the man in the doorway. “You will all make sure that there remains a home here to bring Naari back to.”

Hatman nodded solemnly. “I swear.”

“Hallie?” Cleone called out over the hum of the mainframes. The underground chamber that housed the heart of the Mansion’s computer system was lit by soft LED lights and seemed deceptively peaceful... A peace that was broken when a glowing green woman in fraying chainmail and furs materialized in front of the startled Swanmay.

“Oh… Cleone…” Hallie blinked in embarrassment, sheathing an elaborate, glowing fantasy sword and brushing a bit of demon entrails off of her shoulder . “I, uh… didn’t hear you come in.”

“Understandable. That’s something of a new look for you, is it not?”

The hologram blushed slightly. “Just working off some aggression while and getting prepared by playing some fantasy games online. You know, a little Everquest… and Worlds of Warcraft, Neverwinter Nights, Asheron’s Call, Diablo, Final Fantasy, Oblivion, Legend of Zelda, Ultima, about 130 different MUDs…”

“All at once?”

“Nervous energy” she admitted. “Rampaging through a fantasy setting is suddenly very soothing to me, and orcs make this funny little “urk” sound when you crush their… ah… Well, let’s just say it’s a bad night for others to try to level up.”

Cleone raised an eyebrow in alarm. “You’re not planning on cutting such a swatch of destruction through the Mythlands in order to rescue Naari, are you?”

Hallie snorted ill-temperedly. “With what? Visionary’s winged letter opener? Now if we had Donar with his bat, or Yo with her sword, or Trickshot with his bow…” She noted the growing alarm on the other woman’s face. “All right… even then, no… I wasn’t planning on burning my way through everyone between me and Naari.” She sniffed defensively. “I would give them a chance to step out of the way first.”

“Remarkable restraint, all things considered” she replied in approval. “Then you are not going to be recruiting your fellow Legionnaires for the rescue?”

“No” the green woman answered tightly.

Cleone nodded. “They will be hard pressed in their own battle without you by their side” she noted sadly. “But I know none would ask you to stay, and would help you more if they only could…”

Hallie let go of her anger and looked tired and small, despite her heroic attire. “I know” she allowed. “I know you’d come too if you could… just as I’d come to help free Xander from the Parody Master if given the opportunity. We’re all being pulled in so many directions…”

“Clinging together when we can is what gives us strength for when we cannot” the Swan May suggested. “And you have gathered a great deal of strength. You’ll find what you need to see you through this.”

“Maybe” the hologram allowed. “But this is just playing” she said, gesturing to her barbarian attire. “None of us are fighters… not really… We’re not the type to win through on a dangerous quest.” Hallie sighed. “Water, water everywhere… and not a drop to drink.”

“Then perhaps...” Cleone stated judiciously “it’s time to seek out a new well.”

“What do you mean, none of you are coming with us?!” Miiri asked, alarmed.

Kiivan put on his best official airs. "We will be unable to accompany you on this bold venture. Our patron has informed us that our visit to your planet is coming to a close, and the next phase of our training awaits us. We wish you every success in recovering the lost member of your House, and the blessings of Zaahir upon your endeavour..."

“Not a lot of diplomatic training in your time in exile, eh?” Ebony noted dryly.

The young Emir looked hurt. “I was just trying to do an official blessing and presentation…”

“It’s true” Ohanna chimed in, frowning at him. “I’ve seen it… he’s wearing his “Official Face”… the dolt.”

He has interchangeable faces? the Shoggoth inquired curiously, leaning his bandaged head (or what served as his head) forward. How are they attached? That “Velcro” material mortals find so impressive?

“It would make a horribly unpleasant ripping sound when he tore it off at night” Ebony observed distastefully.

Most faces usually do… the elder beast replied. If it’s official, he certainly wouldn’t want it slipping off quietly. Wouldn’t do to lose it.

“Er…yes… Maybe Ohanna can explain things better…” Kiivan suggested nervously, eying the Shoggoth for any signs it was likely to try any exploratory face peeling.

The youngest Caphan came over to take her confused sister’s hands. “Miiri, I’m so sorry…” she began earnestly, pulling the distraught mother into the guest room with the rest of them. “But we’ve heard from my master. We were told we have to make preparations to leave Earth.”

“Your master.” Miiri repeated levelly. “The one known as the Hooded Hood.”

“Please understand” her sister pleaded. “I begged him to let us stay and accompany you. But he said that events were in motion that would make that impossible.”

Ohanna blinked back tears, and Miiri was suddenly reminded of the adoring little sister she had known so many years ago in another lifetime on Caph. Sighing, she embraced her as she had done all those times when they were children. “I seem to be having great difficulty holding on to my family” she noted sadly. “I was not prepared to be saying my farewells to you.”

“We will meet again… All of us lost children of Caph” said Kiivan assuredly. “I know it in my soul.”

“A good place to know things” Ebony approved. “Unfortunately, the Manga Shoggoth will be unable to accompany you as well. His presence would be a great disruption in the Many Coloured Lands. Bringing even a trace of him along could very well turn areas of the Mythlands inside-out.”

Not that it doesn’t need it… but there are dangers that await you still. Camellia certainly foresaw our involvement it grumbled. Your chances, and Naari’s, will be greater if her forces remain unaware of your movements. I have complete faith that you will turn the Faerie realm inside-out without us.

Ebony noted the despair on the former slave-girl’s face as she contemplated the journey without the Emir’s blade, or the Shoggoth’s abilities. “I believe that Kiivan mentioned something about a presentation..?” she prodded.

“Oh! Yes…” He quickly found his “official face” again. “To aid you in your righteous quest, it is our honor to bestow upon you…”

“We have presents” Ohanna finished for him, pulling back to look her sister in the eyes. “It’s the least we could do…” She gestured for Kiivan to get the ornate wooden box on the other side of the room.

Resigning himself to the end of his ceremonial presentation, the Emir of all Caph sighed and heeded the promptings of the slave girl. He picked up the small chest in both arms and presented it to Miiri, opening the lid. “Designed by your sister and the other Caphans of Lemuria, forged from cold iron by Ebony and the man Blair Atholl in the Great Refuge, inscribed with the writing of the Manga Shoggoth…”

Wide-eyed, Miiri reached inside the box and lifted the matching Caphan Houri daggers from within. Every Caphan slave-girl was taught to use such weapons to defend her master’s property, and Miiri handled them with practiced ease. “They’re beautiful” she commented, catching the light in black-metal sides as reflective as polished volcanic glass. “Are they not larger than usual?”

They are no size. I thought it best that they be whatever you require at the time the Shoggoth gurgled. It doesn’t do to be too worried about the dimensions of things.

“Yes… I’ve told the same thing to Visionary…” Miiri replied absently, admiring her gift.

“The iron will do nicely against much of anything Camellia may throw at you from the Faerie Realms…” Ebony observed clinically. “Well, that and the pointy ends on them, naturally.”

“There is one other thing…” Ohanna observed, giving Kiivan an meaningful look. Rolling his eyes, the Emir went to fetch another box. “My master offered this gift with his apologies that we would not be able to accompany you…”

Warily, Miiri undid the bow on the top of the large clothing box that Kiivan presented. Peeling the velvet ribbon away, she lifted the lid and turned back the tissue paper. She blinked in surprise as she pulled out a card reading “Just a little something from the back of my closest to help you blend in... Wouldn’t do to look like a tourist” in fine handwritten copperplate bold. She pulled out and held the garment at arms length, shaking the folds from it. The crimson colored cloak flared open, revealing a deep, satin-lined hood.

“He said it wasn’t really his color” Kiivan noted helpfully.

Post By Visionary presents the first half of the chapter Tue May 09, 2006 at 08:21:43 am EDT	Subject "Disarmed" --The quest to retrieve Naari begins here.

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