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Post By IW Sat Jan 15, 2005 at 05:26:02 am EST |
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Avengers: Underground #5 | |
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| Previously: Assumed dead after an attempt on their lives by the Bonewalker, the Black Knight (Dane Whitman), Quicksilver (Pietro Maximoff), his wife Crystal, and the Vision (Victor Shade) have joined the Black Panther (King T’Challa of Wakanda) to discover what sinister plot links world war two committee minutes and mediaeval witch trial manuscripts to a modern plot to eliminate all superheroes. This story is part of a collection of fan-fiction stories assembled by Ozbot at Avengers Anew. Previous chapters can be found at on the Avengers: Underground Archive Page. The principal characters in this story at the property of Marvel Comics, and this isn’t a challenge to their legal rights. Avengers: Underground #5 The Plaza de Zocadover, under the shadow of the great Alcazar in Toledo’s historical quarter, was full of bustling tourists eager to visit one of Spain’s oldest and most famous markets. From there any road would take a traveller to some of the richest history and finest architecture in Europe. Heading north along La Sileria, for example, the visitor might discover pleasant if expensive cafés, exclusive fashion houses, and a number of art galleries and salerooms behind ancient ornate stone facades. Amongst the most exclusive of the antique shops was Flamel’s, a fashionable gallery where any customer without a gold card need not apply. Behind its old frontage was a modern interior of stark white walls and minimalist furniture, setting off ancient artefacts displayed in pools of spotlight. And across the road from Flamel’s three unusual tourists shuffled their chairs to make room for a fourth at their tiny crowded table so that Victor Shade could make his report. “There is an electronic security system linked to the police, passive infrared and sonic detection, and some secondary pressure pads,” the reserved gaunt man told his comrades in quiet tones. “They have six personal computers linked together which they seem to use primarily for billing and stock control, and to operate overseas sales.” “Fine,” Pietro Maximoff replied tersely. “So can we go in now and ask why the women who owns that shop tried to kill us?” “That’s a pretty bad idea,” Dane Whitman pointed out. “We can’t just blow our cover after T’Challa went to all that trouble to fake our deaths. We need to keep a low profile, stick with our false identities, and try and do this quietly.” “We may not have died in the York gas explosion,” Quicksilver pointed out, “but there were other casualties during the attack of that Bonewalker. I feel no need to be quiet at all.” “Except we don’t know if this Astrid Mordo was behind all that, Pietro,” Crystal pointed out to her impatient husband. “All the Archbishop said was that the murdered scholar had recently received facsimiles of some mediaeval documents about witch persecutions from her to authenticate.” “We also know that Baroness Mordo is the daughter of a notorious occultist who was once Dr Stephen Strange’s greatest enemy,” Victor Shade added. “Karl Amadeus Mordo may never have been convicted of a crime but his reputation is very black indeed. If his daughter has elected to follow in his footsteps she may be a dangerous adversary.” He glanced at Quicksilver. “That is the other reason we should proceed with caution. I have no wish to become a mindless Ghost of Stone once more.” “Morgan Le Fey was an exceptional Sorceress,” Crystal noted. “There aren’t many people who could manipulate reality like she did.” Pietro stirred uncomfortably, as he always did nowadays when he thought of his sister the Scarlet Witch. “There might not be many magic-workers at that level, but we always seem to meet ‘em.,” Dane Whitman pointed out. “The Enchantress, Mordred the Mystic, Amergin, Master Khan, the Elfqueen, Dr Druid, Black Talon. I share Visi…Victor’s aversion for another stint as a piece of statuary.” “Are we going to take this investigation forward, then?” Pietro demanded, “Or shall we just hop on a tour bus and see the sights?” Crystal laid a restraining hand on the speedster’s arm. As always he tensed for a moment then relaxed at her touch. “We’ll go in as soon as the lunchtime lull starts, my husband. But I would like to see more of this wonderful place before we go if we can. I’ve never been to this part of the human world before, and it’s simply lovely.” Dane found himself smiling at the Inhuman girl’s enthusiasm for life, then caught the Vision watching him with an unreadable expression. “I’m just hoping this all turns out to be some dumb sorcery plot,” the Black Knight said hastily to move on. “The Panther can be a bit paranoid. His idea of a plot to wipe out all superheroes…” “He was sufficiently worried to devise substitute corpses for you that would pass basic forensic tests,” Victor pointed out. “My own computer skills will ensure other appropriate records adjustments to confirm your demises.” “And he faked your death too,” chided Crystal. “Honestly, Vis… Victor, did you think we wouldn’t care that you seemed to have been shredded?” The synthezoid pointed to Flamel’s, where one of the shop assistants was heading off for lunch. “We appear to have reached the appropriate juncture to commence the investigation,” he declared. It was raining when Sersi disembarked at Manchester International Airport, but she never got out of the terminal block to find out. At passport control she was politely guided past the queues of first class passengers and led to a private interview room. “I appreciate the special treatment, darlings, but could one of you smart gentlemen explain what’s happening?” she asked archly. “Someone wants to see you,” a customs officer explained, herding her through the unmarked door into a small windowless room. It wasn’t anyone Sersi had expected to see. “Makkari!” The youthful messenger was dressed in formal human fashion, in a grey suit and dark overcoat, and he seemed uncharacteristically serious. “Hello Sersi,” he bade his fellow Eternal. “I’ve been sent to call you home.” Sersi shook her head. “I’ve no time for more dreary family conferences and minor crises back on the farm,” she answered him. “I’m in England on business.” “You’re in England interfering where you shouldn’t,” Makkari said. “This isn’t the time to pursue another of your mortal dalliances.” “Dane was my gann josin,” Sersi replied, her temper starting to flare. “We were linked at a fundamental level, mind and body, until we were ripped asunder. I’m not going to allow his murder to go unavenged.” “Yes, you are,” the Eternal master of speed warned her. “There are things going on here that you don’t know about. Can’t know about. Things you are required to leave alone.” Sersi snorted. “Is this about the time you spent in the humans’ last world war playing secret agent Mercury?” she demanded. “I notice you’ve dug out your security clearances to get me diverted at customs.” “It’s not about what I did in the war,” Makkari told her. “It’s about what you did.” “I don’t recall doing anything very exciting during that dreary conflict.” “Exactly. Now I’m telling you what Thena told me to say: Drop this. Come home now.” “Or you’ll make me?” Sersi scowled. “I really don’t think you could.” “How about Thena then? Or Ikaris?” Makkari asked. “Are you ready to go up against Ikaris? Because either you come home now, or the Eternals will see you unmade.” “It is an intriguing piece of Etruscan pottery,” conceded Victor Shade, peering through the jeweller’s lens at the grey-brown jug in his hand, “assuming the provenance can be established. I believe I would like to speak to the manageress to satisfy myself on that count.” “Of course, sir,” the smooth and polished sales assistant assured the well-dressed visitor. American, he assumed, judging by the cut of his suit and the very slight Nebraska twang; although his ‘personal secretary’, a bubbly little sloe-eyed redheaded package was more likely Eurasian. The Vision glanced to the corner of the room. Quietly the closed circuit TV cameras switched themselves off and erased all tapes of the customers. The sales assistant put down the telephone and fawned up at his client. “The Baroness will be down shortly, sir. I’m sure she can settle any doubts you have about the piece.” “It’s genuine,” the Baroness assured the customer a few moments later. She stared into his dark eyes and smiled coldly. “You have no doubts about it’s authenticity whatsoever.” “On the contrary, madam,” Victor Stone replied, ignoring whatever minor hypnotics Mordo was using to sell him the $60,000 fake, “it appears to have traces of modern silicate compounds in the clay, and to bear marks of machine working to simulate ageing.” Astrid Mordo’s thin arched eyebrows narrowed together. “You are questioning my word?” “I am,” agreed the Vision. “I am somewhat underwhelmed by your mesmeric abilities also.” The Baroness glared malevolently at her challenger. “Who are you? How dare you speak to me so in my place of power?” She flexed a hand and began a brief incantation to deal with an interloper she had now marked as a threat. And something hard and fast slammed into her stomach with a breath-stealing rabbit punch and was gone. Elemental, Mordo thought to herself. Has to be. Nothing else could move that fast. But the warding should have kept it at bay. She quickly summoned the Vipers of Valtorr to entangle the unknown sorcerer before her and gain her time to prepare for mystic combat. Realising that something was amiss the sales assistant shifted to his lycanthropic state. Shade stepped through the twisting green tendrils of arcane negative energy as if they weren’t there, ghosting in until he was able to grab the Baroness by the throat in a distinctly solid grip. His assistant turned on the werewolf, gestured, and somehow slammed him against the wall with a hurricane gust of wind. “Back, Fido! Bad dog!” The Baroness was choked, unable to speak, but she released the death magics she always kept prepared on her person, searing through Shade’s flesh. He didn’t flinch, didn’t even breathe. She realised her attacker was not human; yet there were no magicks animating him. Astrid Mordo mentally summoned the two clay statues she had boxed in the back room to come to her assistance. The enchanted golems rumbled to life, shifting dutifully to intercept the interloper. Another intruder who had somehow cut through the very stone walls of the store-room behind them sliced them apart with ruthless ferocity. Baroness Mordo realised that she was in deep trouble. She had spells that could liquefy this intruder, curses that could rend his mind and shred his soul if only she could speak them. But a steel-hard thumb was pressing with calculated force upon her carotid artery, and her sight was dimming. This was no end for a disciple of Dormammu. Forty miles northwest of Ho Chi Minh City, across the Central Highlands of Viet Nam towards the Cambodian border, the overgrown temple of the Priests of Pama was protected by a thick growth of luxurious vegetation. The paths to the crumbling monastery where Mantis had been raised were now totally impassable. But T’Challa was the Black Panther, and he climbed along branches and vaulted obstacles where few others could go and finally located the broad milk fruit tree that dominated a natural clearing outside the temple gates. A rusted sword protruded from its roots, marking the place where Jaques Duquesne, once the Avengers known as the Swordsman, had been laid to rest. The Panther paused for a moment to bow his head and remember the first of his comrades to die in the line of duty. “Every Avenger counts,” he whispered. He laid a small shiny badge-button in the shape of a letter A on the grave and then turned aside to activate the technology he had brought with him. The vibrational pulse modulator was modified from a design by Reed Richards, but the Panther himself had attuned it to pulse signals to the exact dimensional location he required. The frequency was calculated from readings taken by Iron Man’s armour during the brief frenzied battle that concluded the strange Avengers: Forever melée. “Come out, Brandt,” T’Challa called softly. “I know you’re here.” And Libra, the Balance, formerly of the Zodiac crime cartel, slipped from between moments to confront him. The Baroness awoke to find herself bound. Her hands were encased in some fused rock blob, preventing her fingers tracing the patterns needed to cast her magics. There was a metal collar around her throat. “If you try to speak magics,” someone told her in the darkness, “you’ll find your head blows off. Just a friendly warning.” Dane Whitman was bluffing, but the Baroness was convinced. “Who are you?” she demanded. “You don’t understand who you have challenged here.” “A minor mystic with big ambitions,” Quicksilver suggested from the shadows. “A con artist using magic tricks to sell fake antiques to weak-willed tourists.” “I am Mordo, and the powers of darkness are mine to command!” A ball of flame flared from nowhere and circled her head. “I bet your hair burns all the same,” Crystal suggested. “We require some answers from you, Baroness,” Victor Shade told the captive. He stepped into the little circle of light cast by Crystal’s globe of fire. “We are particularly interested in the Bonewalker.” Mordo’s face paled. “You’re from the Void Scholar?” she swallowed. “From the Circle?” No wonder they had disposed of her defences so easily. “But I did what you asked!” “What did you do?” demanded the Black Knight. “Tell us!” “I… I acquired the manuscripts and sent them to the English scholar, so that the Bonewalker would sense them and come for him.” “Why?” asked Crystal. “As you said, to attract the Black Knight so that he too could die. And as you anticipated he dragged Chthon’s heir into it as well.” “What?” breathed Pietro. “You mean Quicksilver?” “They both died as you wanted. It was on CNN and Sky.” “You arranged for Cheyney’s murder because you knew the Archbishop would call in Dane Whitman,” the Black Knight accused. “Just to trap him.” The Vision had no time for sentiment or anger. “Who instructed you to undertake this course of action?” he interrogated coldly. The Baroness was confused. “Why… you did. Or rather, the Lady. It was the last part of my repayment to her, for rescuing me from that hell that Strange abandoned me in. I did everything as she demanded.” “The Lady?” Crystal frowned. “What…” “Did you report to the Lady that you had undertaken your mission?” interrupted Shade. “She’d know,” Mordo answered. “Of course she’d know if the wielder of the Ebony Blade passed. She’ll be tormenting his soul even now.” The Black Knight’s fists clenched automatically. “Why?” he asked. “Why would she…?” But the Baroness had decided that something was amiss. “You should know all this,” she reasoned, “if you really are from the Circle.” “Regardless of whom we represent,” the Vision told her, “you will answer us.” The Baroness’ face blossomed into a hateful smile. “If you’re truly from the Void Scholar, then this shouldn’t affect you at all. Et in Arcadia Ego!.” It wasn’t a spell in the classic sense, so Astrid Mordo felt she could risk the invocation. It was rather her pre-arranged means of reporting to the Lady whose bidding she had done. The room was suddenly filled with golden radiance. Tendrils of gleaming light snaked towards the four Avengers. The Vision shifted so they passed harmlessly through him, and Quicksilver blurred aside with lightning reflex. But Dane Whitman and Crystal were transfixed by the ribbons and vanished before the bright streamers faded. “Where are they?” Quicksilver shouted, rushing forward to shake Mordo by the collar. “What happened? Where did you send them?” The Baroness laughed. “Poor fools,” she sneered at her captors. “They’re gone where you can’t find them, and you’ll never see them again.” Pietro Maximoff’s face was pale and grim, and for a moment he exactly resembled his infamous father. “Where did you send them?” he asked again, through gritted teeth. Astrid Mordo realised her very life was in jeopardy if she didn’t speak the truth. “I’ve sent them to see the Lady,” the answered. “The Lady of the Lake.” Continued… Footnotes for the Harried Historian: The Alcazar is the great ancient fortress in Moorish Toledo, and the locations described in this chapter are those on any tourist’s visit to the beautiful old stronghold town. Baroness Astrid Mordo is the daughter of Dr Strange’s original (and deceased) enemy. She’s an accomplished and very nasty sorceress, last seen in Dr Strange: Sorcerer Supreme #79 in a mystic extraplanar sleep. Our narrative here infers she was rescued and restored to Earth by some kind of pact with “the Lady”, and undertook her part in the death of Canon Cheyney to set a trap for Dane Whitman as part of her debt to her rescuer. Her shop was possibly named after famous renaissance alchemist Nicholas Flamel. Like her father before her, she appears to have links with the dread Dormammu, Lord of the Dark Dimension. Ghosts of Stone: The Vision was remade as the Ghost of Stone, a mindless serving automaton, in Morgan le Fey’s recreated reality in Avengers vol 3 #2. The Black Knight was turned to stone by a kiss from the Enchantress, ending his stint with the early Defenders and sending his soul back in time to dwell in the body of a crusader ancestor. His stone body was later animated by an unidentified metallic hand in Dr Strange’s cellar (in Avengers #151, “The Ghost of Stone”), was sent to attack Avengers mansion, and was shattered in combat with the Vision. Remarkably this sub-plot has never been explained on-panel, although writers have expressed views in interviews as to the culprit being either Ultron or the Great Fear. The Great Fear, a personification of doubt, master of the X-Men’s demonic enemy D’Spayre, certainly reanimated the Knight’s statue from rubble (furnished with the genuine Ebony Blade) and set it against Strange again later on. When Dane Whitman did eventually return to the modern age it was in a recreated body through the magics of the ancient druid Amergin. High Level Magic Workers: Amora the Enchantress is an Asgardian sorceress who has entangled Dane Whitman in many of her plots, although she first fought the Avengers as one of the Master of Evil in volume 1 #7. Mordred the mystic was corrupted by the evil volume, the Darkhold, and became a servant of Chthon, battling the team in #186-187. Druidic Amergin called upon the help of the Avengers in #227-228 to resist the mystic Formorians who were invading the magic isle of Avalon. He recruited the help of his modern day descendent Antony Ludgate Druid. Dr Druid eventually joined the team in #279. Master Khan is a powerful sorcerer from the mystic city of K’un Lung, and has never battled the Avengers as a team; but Dane is familiar with his villainy from his tenures with Heroes for Hire. Linnea the Elfqueen made her only appearance in Avengers #212 when she sought to avenge the death of her lover Gorn and was shot in the back by Yellowjacket. Voodoo priest Black Talon first crossed the Avengers when he “raised” Wonder Man from the dead in #151-152 at the behest of Ultron. Eternals are an offshoot of humanity engineered by the Celestial Space Giants at the dawn of Earth’s history to possess massive abilities drawn from cosmic energy. Mistaken in many cultures for gods they include Ikaris, a powerful warrior, Makkari, master of speed, and Sersi, whose shape-changing abilities are unsurpassed. They are currently led by wise Thena after the majority of their race left Earth in a great combined uni-mind to explore the stars. In the 40s and 50s Makkari was involved with US intelligence services, and masqueraded as the superhero Mercury. Fun, party-loving Sersi was an Avenger for a while, and during that time became very close to the Black Knight; of which more another time. Reed Richards is Mr Fantastic of the Fantastic Four, and probably the foremost scientist of the Marvel Universe. Libra of the Zodiac Cartel, father of the Avenger Mantis, personifies “the balance”. His mystic studies have made him privy to much hidden knowledge. The Panther elected in this story to contact him at a point he had previously been seen, the spot where the Swordsman was buried near Saigon (now Ho Chi Minh City). For more on Gustav Brandt, consult The Unofficial Appendix to the Marvel Universe - Libra. The Baroness’ Information: We have not heard of the Circle nor the Void Scholar by those names, but “the Lady” seems to refer to the Lady of the Lake who latterly gave the Black Knight his Sword of Light and Shield of Night, weapons that he wielded until their mysterious disappearance around the time of the Avengers’ recent crisis. More on her next time. Et in Arcadia Ego is a phrase associated with the missing treasure or secret of the Knights Templar, and famously appears carved on the tomb examined by the four shepherds in Poisson’s well-known picture The Shepherds of Arcadia. It is generally translated to mean “Even in Arcadia, I am,” suggesting that death’s shadow extends even into the Acadian dreams of paradise. This picture, phrase, and the Templars generally have to somehow fit into any historical conspiracy theory, by law. |
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