13th gate baton rouge
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2018.10.05 01:01 swansea630 Your home for all things Dragon Gate
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2008.03.30 07:08 New Orleans (Not for tourists, see /r/AskNola)
This is the subreddit for the Greater New Orleans area. This sub is for locals to discuss all things New Orleans. All tourist questions of any type should be asked at askNOLA. This subreddit is NOT for hookups, finding drugs, tourists, or tourist questions. If you post here about these things, you will be shunned and talked to quite harshly. Laissez les bons temps rouler! What is damp may never dry!
2015.03.23 19:09 gekiganger5 Houston, TX X-Wing Tournament Group
This subreddit is for members of the Houston, TX Apollo Squadron for FFG's X-Wing: The Miniatures Game.
2023.03.28 19:36 DarkWolf2017 How do we counter on crime issues?
So living in Louisiana my whole life, I’ve noticed that conservatives around here when in a corner will always bring up the crime rates, specifically murder rates, in the main 2 blue cities, Baton Rouge and New Orleans. How do we counter that? I’ve tried mentioning how the more conservative small city of Hammond, all things considered and in a per 1,000 residents measurement, winds up being more dangerous than New Orleans. Or how a lot of the crime in New Orleans stems from desperation caused by high insurance rates and hurricane damage.
Now just so it can go said, I do understand that New Orleans doesn’t fare well when talking about crime, even compared to other major cities it is considered very dangerous. That being said that has little to nothing to do with democratic policies, far more to do with high insurance rates and wealth inequality. Is there any way to push back when republicans mention the crime rates in cities like New Orleans? I’m not from New Orleans, but have been. I find the festive season fun, the culture very interesting, etc. and I feel until perceptions aren’t so negative, these issues won’t improve and may even get worse if more people flee from the city into surrounding areas like Metairie, Mandeville, Covington, etc. Not that those cities (Metairie is an unincorporated area, but is as big and populated as a city) are bad, just that a lot of their growth is people leaving New Orleans.
submitted by DarkWolf2017 to AskALiberal [link] [comments]
Now just so it can go said, I do understand that New Orleans doesn’t fare well when talking about crime, even compared to other major cities it is considered very dangerous. That being said that has little to nothing to do with democratic policies, far more to do with high insurance rates and wealth inequality. Is there any way to push back when republicans mention the crime rates in cities like New Orleans? I’m not from New Orleans, but have been. I find the festive season fun, the culture very interesting, etc. and I feel until perceptions aren’t so negative, these issues won’t improve and may even get worse if more people flee from the city into surrounding areas like Metairie, Mandeville, Covington, etc. Not that those cities (Metairie is an unincorporated area, but is as big and populated as a city) are bad, just that a lot of their growth is people leaving New Orleans.
2023.03.28 19:35 tonnie_taller From transfer portal to the Final Four: Angel Reese’s improbable year
A year ago, Kim Mulkey had just finished her first season in Baton Rouge and Angel Reese had just entered the transfer portal. What happened next is an unexpected turnaround leading all the way to Dallas.
submitted by tonnie_taller to Tonnie_Taller [link] [comments]
2023.03.28 19:20 suniljangra666 It is described in Kabir Sagar that 12 cults will be run in the name of Kabir Saheb ji, but the basic knowledge will be far away from them. Visit-us Satlok Ashram YouTube Channel
 | submitted by suniljangra666 to u/suniljangra666 [link] [comments] |
2023.03.28 18:59 EldritchEggoWaffle WARDEN OF THE WEAVER - PART 63: "THE UPRISING BEGINS"
•1•
Nantha didn't have the heart to tell them. She didn't know how to tell them. She didn't even know where to begin.
Annid Long-Tree, leader of the Savage-Sisters approached the entrance to Tube House. At her side was Ehsh, and several other Savage Sisters, as well as an entire posse of she-Jikk prisoners.
Annid's eyes studied Nantha's closely. "Where is Prince Yallan?"
Nantha forced herself not to look away, to maintain eye contact. "He wanted me to tell you all to go on without him."
"What?" It was Ehsh this time.
Annid looked baffled. "What are you talking about? This isn't the time for jokes, Nantha. Tell the Prince to hurry. We've got the gate open."
"He isn't here," Nantha said flatly. "He's already down below, working to free the prisoners in Jailhouse 2."
Annid considered this a moment. She appeared to do some brief mental calculations. Finally, she nodded. "Well, why didn't you say that from the start? Then let's get going. The Jail-Keepers and Guards will rush in anytime now."
Nantha gave a meaningful nod. "I'm right behind you."
She followed the others away from Tube House and across Dark Cell toward Gate Wall. They did indeed have the gate opened, just as Annid had promised.
"Was it difficult to pry open?" Nantha asked.
"A little," Annid admitted. "But we used the pickaxes and mining tools, just as planned." She pointed to the bars of the gate. Several of them were bent out of shape in the middle. The gate itself hung open, slightly askew. Just on the other side, a crowd of prisoners stood waiting. All of Dark Cell was here, it seemed. Many of them wielded the pickaxes and large chisels used for mining the ore they'd been forced to collect for the Guards.
Nantha felt excitement and adrenaline swell up in her chest. Were they actually doing this, after all these years? It didn't seem possible. It felt like a dream.
The ordinarily dank, stale air of the jail seemed almost electric in that moment. Nantha felt alive for the first time in more years than she could recount. She wasn't just drawing breath, surviving from one day to the next. She was actually living.
Even if this escape attempt meant her death, she thought it would be worth it just for this brief feeling of being alive.
"The Prince is in Jailhouse 2 already," Annid announced to the crowd.
Lively murmurs broke out at once. Nantha's exaltation turned to anxiousness. They were going to be suspicious. Of course they were. Why wouldn't they be? The Dirt Prince was their leader. This uprising was his uprising. Would they truly believe he'd already made it to Jailhouse 2? What more excuse for his absence could she possibly give them? What other reasons would they actually accept?
"How?" asked someone in the crowd. "We never saw him leave?"
Nantha's heart sank. Doing her best to remain calm, she said, "Prince Yallan has his ways."
For a wonder, this actually seemed to satisfy them. Thanks the Gods for Yallan's esoteric, eccentric nature. Yallan, or whoever he was. So much of what Nantha thought she'd known about him had turned out to be a lie. Yet, still, Jikk or human, or whatever he might have been, if there was one fact about him that remained indisputable, it was that he was definitely one who had some rather strange ways about them. Clearly, if recent events in the Tubes were any indication. But then again, Nantha mused, it likely took one of strange ways to not only plan, but pull off something as mad as the uprising.
After a few more moments of excited chatter, they got moving without any further inquiries into the Prince, or his whereabouts. Much to Nantha's great relief.
If they were still alive when the uprising was over, she could tell them all the truth then.
Or, she thought as they marched down the wide corridor toward the rest of the jail, perhaps it was something she'd simply keep to herself. What good would knowing do any of the others? Knowing the truth certainly hadn't done her any good. As she looked around at the determined faces of her sister-Jikk, a part of her thought that it was best this way--with the so-called "Dirt Prince" nowhere in evidence, and the truth unknown to anyone save for her. Afterall, she told herself, The Jailer's crimes had been against she-Jikk more than anyone else. Sure, he'd taken younglings, and the elderly, and the disabled. He'd occasionally taken male Jikk; particularly those who caused too much trouble for his liking in Lo Syy Tett. But he hadn't targeted anyone else the way he'd targeted she-Jikk. The population of the Jails was around 85 to 90 percent she-Jikk.
Therefore, why should a male be the one to lead the uprising? Even before you considered the fact that said male wasn't even a Jikk.
Yes. It was much better this way. More fitting. Perhaps, if by some great miracle they survived all of this, Nantha could begin planting the idea that the Dirt Prince had really been apart of the planning stages of their revolt, more than anything else. The actual execution of said plan, however? That was a purely female undertaking.
Nantha walked between Annid Long-Tree and Ehsh, her head held high. There was still much to do. They were far from being in the clear yet. This was only the first step. The beginning.
They had lots more still to do, if they wanted to capture sweet, sweet freedom.
And as Nantha knew all too well, this was the only chance they would ever get...
•2•
The passageway was littered with decapitated corpses.
Ekkr stared down at the boomerang in his hand, with a growing mixture of wonder and horror in almost equal measure. This seemed far too powerful a weapon for someone like himself to wield.
"Well done, lad!" Wolfgang exclaimed.
"Shhh!" hissed the she-ant. "You idiot. Do you want the entire Jailhouse to hear you?
"Oh, right," Wolfgang said, lowering his voice. "Appologies, lass."
They moved down the passageway, stepping over or around bodies of fallen Jail-Keepers. Ekkr counted nine of them in total. The boomerang had cut a clean path straight through them all. Ekkr took slow, deliberate steps forward. The metallic scent of fresh blood hung in the air like an invisible vapor. Having Wolfgang at his side was the only reason Ekkr was able to continue on without stopping out of shock, or fear. Kanka and Ullteffa were close at their heels, wordlessly surveying the corpses.
As they made their way beyond the gruesome scene and down the remainder of the passageway, an almost tangible silence fell over their small group. Ekkr could practically feel the she-ant's eyes boring into the back of his head.
She's REALLY going to mistrust me now. She's probably waiting for the right moment to slip a dagger into my back, just to eliminate me as a potential threat.
The passageway became a wide corridor. Here, were the first banks of jail cells. The walls on either side of the party were lined with them; cold black steel bars like the teeth of a dark stone maw. These cells were empty.
Ekkr stopped, turning to face the others. The Ronzaxx and Willtakk also stopped walked. Ullteffa regarded him with calice suspicion. Ekkr saw her hand twitch for a brief moment, as if she intended to go for the ebony saber strapped to her back--perhaps, mostly out of reflex--before deciding to wait a moment. The Bandit only scowled, folding his arms across his chest. Wolfgang, for his part, continued walking a few more steps before halting. He did a kind of pivoting spin on the heel of one boot, reminiscent of the way Ekkr had seen Grassblade Proeliators turn in order to do an about face, for their marching drills during training exercises.
The frog raised his hairless brow. "Trouble, my boy?"
Ekkr felt his entire body tense. He was very conscious of where he held the boomerang, making absolutely certain not to do anything with it that might be misinterpreted as a threat. He looked the she-ant directly in her dark gemstone eyes. The moment he did this, he wished he hadn't. He saw nothing resembling mortal emotion in those eyes. They were cold and hard as the Void Gems from which they'd been fashioned. He summoned all the (considerably scarse) courage he had in him. He thought of the leaf, and the Weaver. He thought of his new title. He was Curator. That had to mean he was worthy of something didn't it? Well.. something. What that something might have been, he hadn't a clue, but there it was all the same. Ekkr Thrice-Flown, Curator of the Weaver.
This didn't do much to still his rapid-beating heart, but it did grant him a small modicum of strength in his resolve. He leaned on that small modicum like a crutch. Like a steady stone buttress during an earthquake. Like a hand helping an injured friend stand upright, after a nasty fall.
"I can't keep going on like this," Ekkr said. "Every moment. Waiting for a blade to slide across my throat. Please. I really have been truthful with you. I am just as confused as you are in this moment. The dagger you gave me... I threw it, and it came back as... well... as this." He looked down at the boomerang, not daring to move it even an inch; even to emphasize his point. "This is completely new and strange and unknown to me. So... I suppose what I'm saying is... please. I beg of you. I... actually, I don't know what I'm asking. I'm just..." he trailed off. He had no idea how to finish.
The she-ant and Ronzaxx only stared at him, looking utterly indifferent.
Wolfgang (bless him) decided to step in. He moved closer, to clap a webbed hand on Ekkr's back. "I believe what this right and fine gent here is trying to say, is that you're a beautiful woman, in need of a strong gentleman like myself."
Ekkr couldn't believe it. His mouth fell open. He actually emitted a small squeaking sound, for a brief instant. He stared at the frog with complete incredulous. "I meant no such thing!"
The Bandit bowed his head, jabbing his fingertips into his hard brow. He muttered, just loud enough to be heard: "Please let me kill 'em, Boss Lady. Please let me kill 'em. Can I? Please?"
Ullteffa said nothing. Her eyes never left Ekkr, but she maintained a complete and agonizing silence.
Wolfgang said, "Wasn't it, lad? My mistake. Perhaps, it was I who meant to suggest that very thing."
Ekkr openly cringed. This was almost as painful to witness, as it was terrifying.
"Well, maddam?" Wolfgang said, grinning. "What do you, my lady?"
Ullteffa's eyes finally left Ekkr, shifting over to Wolfgang. Then, she blinked. Once, then a second time. It was a bizarre, surreal thing to witness due to her Void Gem eyes.
For a moment, the painful silence hung between them. Ekkr felt every fraction of every second pass in excruciating stillness.
But then, like a ray of sunlight from behind a dark cloud, the she-ant blinked a final time... and smiled.
She actually smiled.
Ekkr was stunned. Baffled. Stupefied.
He now realized how beautiful the she-ant truly was. He'd been too terrified of her to see it before. She was gorgeous. Much too gorgeous to smiling in this way at the frog. It made no sense. It was mind-boggling.
Kanka went on scowling for half a second. Then, his scowl fell away as his eyes went from Ullteffa to Wolfgang--Ullteffa to Wolfgang, back to Ullteffa, back to Wolfgang--before finally landing on Ullteffa one finally time and remaining there. A look of both jealousy and anger began to wash across his cockroach face. It made him look menacing, and a touch pathetic. Almost like a Learning Hall bully who torments other younglings because of his own insecurities.
Ullteffa said, "You truly are an idiot. You do know that, don't you?" She sighed, shaking her head. She was still smiling, however. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the smile vanished and she was all business once more. "Let's get moving."
When Ekkr and Wolfgang remained where they were, the she-ant sighed again; this time with a bit of frustration added. "Fine. I still don't trust either of you, but I'll set my suspicions aside. This time, I sincerely mean it."
The Bandit stared at her, as if he couldn't believe what she'd just said. "But Boss Lady, we--"
She raised her hand, silencing him. Kanka glared off into space, mumbling something under his breath.
Ullteffa said, "Now then. If we keep standing here, we're only going to give The Jailer more time to plan our executions."
This got them all in motion again. As they walked beyond the empty cells, Ekkr looked over to the frog. Nothing seemed to make sense when Wolfgang was around. It was as if the frog were a force of nature, and everything (or everyone) around him was caught up in his peculiar brand of charm. The amphibian had all the whimsical charisma of a trickster God. Ekkr began to wonder just how much Wolfgang's company had influenced him. He also began to wonder just how much of their current situation was prompted by the Weaver, and how much had been on account of Wolfgang. The Weaver had directed him here, but the courage it took to actually go delving down in the lair of The Jailer? That might very well have been a different story.
Wolfgang, noticing Ekkr watching him, looked up and grinned. He tipped Ekkr a wink. Ekkr sighed and turned away. What a strange, strange creature, he thought.
They walked on, down a wide passage and out through another corridor. There were no jail cells here. In there place, were a set of stone doors; rounded at the tops, and lighter gray than the surrounding stone. Ekkr stopped before the third door on the left, pointing.
"This one," he said.
The others nodded, gathering around the door.
Instead of a handle, or doorknob, there was a notch punched into the rock. Ekkr placed his hand into the groove and pulled. The stone door came down like a drawbridge. It was much too heavy for the Jikk to hold. When it swung down, it slipped from his grasp. The Bandit darted forward, just in time to catch the heavy slab of stone before it crashed to the floor.
Kanka shook his head, flashing an irritated glare in Ekkr's direction. "Who needs alarm bells when they've got you around?"
"Apologies," Ekkr said lamely, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.
Kanka gently lowered the slab onto the floor. The four of them walked across it and into an oval-shaped room of pale gray stone. There was a steel rod sticking up from the center of the room. In the place where the rod disappeared beneath the floor, there was an inch-and-a-half wide gap, outlined by a circle carved into the stone.
Once they were all inside, Ullteffa said: "Allow me."
She stepped forward and took hold of the steel bar. She pulled it toward her, then moved it in a slow circle, letting it trace over the gap in the floor. For a moment, she looked like a dye maker stirring a pot of boiled plant pigments. The door behind them sprang back into place with a muffled slam. There was a soft scraping sound--the whine of metal gears--then the entire room began to turn. An overlapping wall began to encroach upon the door, swallowing it inch by inch as the room moved. The beginnings of a narrow gap appeared in the far wall, at the same time. Little by little, the gap widened as the room continued to turn, until an unobscured passageway opened where the wall had been.
"Fancy," said Wolfgang. "A rotating room."
The she-ant said nothing. She released the steel rod and stepped away from it. She looked to Ekkr expectantly.
Ekkr nodded, remembering he was the one who was supposed to lead the way. He tensed his shoulders and stepped through the mouth of the passage. Wolfgang followed beside him.
The four of them walked for only a short distance, before they reached a new corridor, lined with jailcells. There were long hallways winding into darkness, breaking up each set of cells--six cell blocks in all, with a hallway between each. And in every cell, there were prisoners. Some of them were lying down in the corner, sleeping. Others were leaning against the bars. Most of them were sitting in the middle of the cell floor looking utterly pitiful. Ekkr spotted a small handful of younglings, and a single elderly male. The rest were all she-Jikk. Each cell contained between twelve and fifteen prisoners. Close to eighty inmates in all.
The four of them stopped in the center of the corridor, looking around at the prisoners. For Ekkr, it was an absolutely heart-wrenching sight.
One of the younglings rushed over to the bars of her cell. She called out in a small, weak voice: "Are you here to help us? Please. Please help us. Get us out of here."
An aging she-Jikk reached down and swatted the youngling across the side of her face. She furiously whispered, "Shut up! We don't know who they are. Sit down and be quiet. Now!"
The youngling bowed her head and did as she was told. Ekkr saw the little one's wings begin to quiver, birthing a soft bzzttt sound; the Jikk equivalent of sobbing.
Ekkr held up a hand and waved. "It's alright. We don't work for The Jailer."
"We aren't here to help them, either," Ullteffa scolded. "Keep moving, Ekkr Thrice-Flown. We don't have time to chitchat."
Ekkr stared out across the corridor at the frightened, hopeless faces of the prisoners. Could he really just walk away and leave them?"
"Can't we do something?" he protested. "At least open their cells, perhaps?"
"Ekkr Thrice-Flown," Ullteffa said in a tone that was all the answer he needed.
Ekkr slumped his shoulders, feeling deflated. This wasn't right. These were innocent Jikk. How could he just leave them here?
That was when the Weaver's words echoed throughout his mind.
Find the Warden. Free the prisoners.
Yes. Yes. This was it. This was his purpose here. Half of it, at least. The Weaver had sent him here to help these Jikk. This was what he needed to do in order to find his redemption. Free the prisoners. This was his mission.
But how in Vellnoth's Name was he supposed to actually accomplish this?
As if sensing his distress, Wolfgang placed a webbed hand on Ekkr's arm. "We can come back for them, lad."
Ekkr looked down at the short, stubby Amphibian. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, my good man, we came here to free the canine, did we not? Once we've done that, I see no reason why we cannot help these fine folks find freedom on our way out, lad."
Ekkr considered this a moment. If the Warden were with them, they might just be able to pull this off, and live to tell the tale. The canine would definitely assist them, as well. Success would all depend on how The Jailer responded to their trespassing in his domain. But... maybe, just maybe, they could do it. The chances of helping the prisoners, and actually getting them out of this place would go up drastically if the Warden was also free and at their side.
Ekkr gazed over at the inmates again, before turning back to Wolfgang. "Alright. But you must give me your word we will return for them."
"My word is my bond, lad. I give you my word as a gentleman, and a swordsman."
"Alright," Ekkr said. "Then let's go find the Warden."
•3•
Paladin Zeyas (known to the inmates of Dark Pit as Dirt Prince Yallan Torchpath) moved along the wall of the slender passageway, feeling for the unseen Rune he knew would be there. After searching around for several moments, his fingertips finally slid across an uneven part of the stone. To the untrained eye, the wall here was no different than it was anywhere else. To Zeyas however, it was his key to breaking out of this place. He pressed his fingers into the Rune. Soon, the stone began to glow with soft red light. Then, the light brightened to a vibrant crimson.
Zeyas pushed against the Rune. The floor slid out from beneath his feet, sending him falling into darkness. He used the wings of his armored suit (the one designed to make him look indistinguishable from a Jikk when he wore it) to avoid a nasty landing. He came down several levels below Jailhouse 1.
He secured his helm back in place, giving himself increased low light vision. He was in the Main Access Tunnel now. The Master Switch was located somewhere on this floor. All the Paladin had to do was find it, activate the thing, and every door to every cell in the entire facility would open. It was a fail safe, in the event of some major catastrophe. And now, it would serve as Zeyas's greatest tool in aiding the Jikk in their uprising.
The Paladin ran down the long corridor, through unlit tunnels and dark passageways.
Soon, he would give the Insectoids of this place their freedom.
•4•
Nantha became one more face in a sea of prisoners. She let herself blend in with the crowd. She was glad not to be leading the charge, but was all the more glad to be apart of it. They marched on, into the general inmate areas of Jailhouse 1, putting Dark Pit further and further behind them.
"What's happening?" asked an alarmed voice from one of the cells up ahead. "Is this a riot?"
"Freedom!" someone in their group shouted, raising a hand.
"Let us out! We want to come with you!"
Nantha heard Annid's voice answer. "Patience. The Dirt Prince is finding the Master Switch as we speak, if all is going according to plan. We have our own part to play. As soon as your cell doors open, make for the nearest corridor. Soon, we will all be free."
There was a collective cheer from the other prisoners.
Nantha only hoped Annid's words would prove true. And that the so-called Dirt Prince was really still holding up his part in things. Otherwise, this might all be for nothing, she realized.
The members of the uprising pushed on. They slipped down passages, moved through large cavernous chambers, toward their destination: Coridor Prime. If they could just make it there, they'd be able to access almost any part of the Tunnels. It was a secret of this facility Yallan had discovered, though he'd never revealed how he came by the information. You couldn't get to Corridor Prime unless you went through Tunnel Eight. It only went one way. Once your left Corridor Prime using one of its many shafts and passageways, a Rune Seal blocked you from returning, unless you went all the way back to Tunnel Eight. It was a security feature, and an escape detourant. You had to know which shaft to choose, or else you'd end up in the wrong part of the Tunnels, without a way back.
According to the Prince, they just had to go through the shaft marked with the Source Rune symbol for 'lake'. This would leave them in the chamber beneath the Chartreuse Pool.
The forbidden waters...
Nantha thought back to her time in Lo Syy Tett, all those years ago. She recalled learning about Jikk customs and the Jikkellian faith. She'd been taught that the Chartreuse Pool was forbidden, in accordance with religious law.
The Jailer had used this to his advantage. Used, and abused this fact. The truth was, even by the laws of their faith, Jikk could enter the Chartreuse Pool, so long as they were given a blessing directly from Vellnoth the Lesser. The Jailer and his minions claimed to have such a blessing.
The Mind Mother's influence had convinced them all of the validity of this claim. That same influence had also convinced them the Green Leaf Scrolls' passing reference to the forbidden nature of the Chartreuse Pool was actually one of their religion's core tenants.
Yallan (who wasn't actually named Yallan) had been right. The Mind Mother did have to be destroyed. Jikk needed to realize the atrocities being committed here. As long as the Mind Mother lived, that couldn't happen. Perhaps, on an individual level, it could. But not on a wide scale. Nantha was bitterly glad the false Prince had slain the awful creature. Otherwise, she and the other prisoners might have been too fearful of Vellnoth's wrath to utilize their main escape route.
Nantha snapped back to the present. The crowd in front of her had stopped abruptly, just as they reached the mouth of the next tunnel between corridors. There were whispers of alarm, even fear. Nantha was forced to squeeze or push her way between several inmates, before she was able to make it up to the front of the pack.
Now, she saw what had promoted commotion; the reason why they'd stopped.
The tunnel was not very long. From here, Nantha could see where it ended, before it gave way to yet another block of cells in the corridor beyond. And there, at the opposite end of the tunnel, stood a group of figures. There were four of them. Each one wielded a weapon.
There was a meek looking Jikk. He held a weapon Nantha had never seen before. It was emerald-hued and almost looked like a throwing knife, but not like any normal throwing knife. It was curved in the center. The Jikk seemed just as anxious and alarmed as Nantha felt. Oddest of all was the fact that--aside from a pair of sandals and some tattered undergarments--he was completely disrobed.
Beside the Jikk was one of the strangest creatures Nantha had ever seen. It had a large round head that seemed too massive for its body. In place of chitin, the thing had flesh as green as a spinach leaf, and stood much shorter than the grasshopper man beside it. The creature was dressed in odd attire that didn't seem to match any of the modern styles. The creature had a wooden crossbow in its arms.
The other two figures were what Jikkellians referred to as Children of Ziilk; followers of the false God sometimes called Rogue In Rouge.
A Ronzaxx roachman and a Willtakk she-ant. The former held a silver dagger that might have glistened had there been any light source; the latter wielded an ebony saber. While the Jikk looked concerned and the short green creature appeared almost excited, the two Children of Ziilk were watching the large group of inmates with a mixture of amusement and something close to menace.
One of the braver she-Jikk in front of Nantha snatched a pickaxe from the prisoner beside her, and stepped forward. She raised her voice so that it carried across the tunnel. "We aren't going back to our cells now matter what you do!" she challenged. Although the she-Jikk spoke with confident command, Nantha could see her left leg trembling slightly out of fear
Nantha thought she heard the she-ant snort at this--as though the words were too ridiculous to remain silent--but it may have only been her imagination. Across the tunnel, it was difficult to know for certain.
The partially nude Jikk stepped forward. He kept his weapon lowered at his side, as it he weren't sure what to do with it. In a warm, friendly tone, he said: "I'm not going to force you back to your cells. I'm here to help you escape."
Nantha and the other inmates glanced around at one another. None of them seemed to have any clue how to proceed.
•5•
The panicked faces of several Guards and Jail-Keepers appeared before him. Floor Master Guvven considered them a moment, before raising a hand and gesturing for them to speak.
"Uh, Floor Master Guvven, sir? There are trespassers," said one of the Jail-Keepers (Guvven could never remember most of his subordinates' names, nor did he care to remember; they were unimportant to him--he cared only for his Riot Responders).
Guvven stared at him, stonefaced. A congregation of Purple Spiders clinging to the roof of the chamber cast soft, odd shadows across Guvven's features. "Do you think I'm not already aware?"
"No, sir, but they just took out several of our Jail-Keepers. They even got Gosoma."
Guvven cocked his head to one side. Now this was interesting. Gosoma of the Lash was one of his best. Anyone who could take down the head Riot Responder was a force to be reckoned with. This intrigued Guvven a great deal. It had been so long since he'd seen any real action.
A Purple Spider dropped down from the ceiling and landed on his shoulder. Through the spider, came the voice of Porter Huuth. He said, "All Floor Masters are to head to Jailhouse 1 immediately. We have trespassers. Leave Jail-Keepers and Guards at their post. Don't let any prisoners out of their cells. Bring only your top warriors with you. Head to Jailhouse 1, Tunnel Seven. Intercept the trespassers, and cut them off before they reach Tunnel Eight. They'll be bound for Corridor Prime. Kill them on sight. These orders come directly from The Jailer himself. Make haste, everyone. If you fail, you deal with me."
The voice cut out and the spider scurried down Guvven's arm, before dropping onto the floor and scampering away.
Guvven realized the Jail-Keepers and Guards were all still standing there, watching him expectantly with varying degrees of anxious fret plastered across their features. "What are you all still doing here? Did you hear the orders? Get to your posts!"
All at once, every one of them turned and made off for the cell blocks, practically tripping over one another as they went.
Just before the last of them were out of sight, Guvven called: "And send me my Riot Responders! The ones I have left!"
"Yes, Floor Master," one of them said.
Then, they were gone.
Guvven voiced a single dry cackle. "Well then. Looks like we're in for some fun." He reached for his massive warhammer which he'd propped upright against the chamber wall. Hammer in hand, he moved to the back of the room and stopped before a chest-high steel cage. Glowing yellow eyes shaped like dagger blades peered out at him through the bars, from the darkness beyond the cage door.
Guvven bent down to fiddle with the lock. "Been a while since I let you out of here, eh? You ready to go hunting again, old friend?"
There was a deep, hungry growl from inside the cage. Guvven grinned. "That's right. You're gonna have some fun with me, my friend." Guvven flicked the lock and popped open the door.
•6•
Elsewhere, in various parts of the jailhouse, the other Floor Masters had just finished listening to Porter Huuth's message.
In Jailhouse 3, Floor Master Ovtuk watched the Purple Spider that delivered the orders as it made for a crack in the stone floor of the tunnel.
He turned to the figure on his left. "Strongest warriors, he said?"
"That's what he said," replied Floor Master Snann. "I would reckon that means the four Majors."
Ovtuk nodded. "Sounds about right. I'll bring Meex while I'm at it. Can't think of a good reason to leave him behind."
Floor Master Snann unfastened the leather thong he used to secure his vine whip to his belt (his vine whip, which might have been called a "cat-o'-nine-tails" were he from a place called Earth, or if he knew what a cat was). "Let's go make the Porters of the Hand proud."
And in a part of the jailhouse known as Dread Point...
Floor Master Klivis and his strongest warrior--a Jikk built like a brick shithouse who went by the name Foxglove--marched down the long winding passageway that would take them up to Jailhouse 1. As they neared the end of the passage, a sinister sounding voice called out them.
"Leaving without me?"
Klivis and Foxglove both stopped and turned at the utterance. Klivis felt a slight chill run along the base of his neck (a rather uncommon occurrence for an Insectoid with an exoskeleton) when his eyes fell upon the one who'd spoken.
Klivis was a mean, merciless Floor Master by all accounts. He favored beating the prisoners, over... well, pretty much everything. Beating prisoners had become something of a passtime for him. It gave the Floor Master a thrill like nothing else ever had. He was a cold, calice Jikk who reveled in violence.
And yet... even Klivis felt uneasy around the figure he now saw before him.
"Nazro?" Klivis whispered. He wasn't sure why he was whispering. Something about the other Floor Master almost seemed to demand it. As if he had to lessen even the volume of his own voice in the presence of this particular Jikk. "You made it up here rather quickly."
"Of course," said Nazro cheerfully. His voice and expression were that of a good-natured chum, chumming it up with his fellow chums. This was all an act, however. Klivis could see it in his eyes. Even when Nazro smiled, his eyes remained cold and lifeless.
"I see," Klivis said sheepishly. It was all he could think to say.
"The Porter said to make haste, afterall."
"He did," Klivis said. He looked to Foxglove for assistance, but Foxglove seemed to be studying the floor as if it interested him a great deal.
"Come on," Nazro said. "I'll walk up with you."
Klivis didn't think there was anything in the world he desired less than to be accompanied by Floor Master Nazro. However, unable to come up with a good excuse to avoid this uncomfortable situation, Klivis simply nodded. "Alright then."
Together, the three of them made their way to Jailhouse 1. As they did, the rest of the Floor Masters and their top subordinates did likewise. And in no time at all, the Tunnels near Dark Pit were crawling with them...
•7•
The Comet's Crest Chancellors gathered around the white marble fountain, gazing with great interest into its shimmering waters. Through the surface of the water, they saw as one might see through a pane of glass...
Desolate Chasm--private quarters of The Jailer...
* * * * * *
From the ceiling, the glow of an entire nest of Purple Spiders bathed the room in soft lavender. Yet, this glow was unable to penetrate many of the shadows within; as if they weren't shadows at all, but rather, living things spawned of the absence of light. A portion of the floor near the entryway had been raised, revealing a previously hidden chamber no bigger than a jail cell. A slab of dark brown stone the size of a coffin sat in this crawlspace beneath the floor. The three Blind Black-Robes stood before this secret chamber. Together, moving in synchronization, they stooped down over the stone slab and placed their hands onto its cool, rough surface.
There was a sound like boiling water being poured over ice cubes as the rock began to crack apart, sending hairline fractures across the length of the slab. The stone split in two, right down the center. The two halves fell against the walls of the crawlspace, revealing that the stone slab had in fact been hollow. There was a Jikk inside the stone; lying on his back with his arms and legs, wings nearly tucked away. He stared up at them with emotionless regard.
From the back of the room, a voice that sounded the way a graveyard might sound were it given the power of speech, echoed throughout the chamber. "Ellgost. My only son."
The Jikk inside the broken stone sat upright and looked around. Beyond the three blindfolded earwig men, stood a table of polished ebony. It was as long as the bar counter in a tavern, and ran from one wall to the other--cutting across the entire room from left to right. There were strange instruments and mechanisms at one end of the table. Atop the opposite end, was a bulky object beneath an old gray tarp. And at the center of the table, sat three figures. Two of them were engulfed in shadow, obscuring their form. They appeared to be completely motionless. Between the pair of shadowed figures was the third.
* * * * * *
A Chancellor gasped, taking a step back. "Gods," he whispered. "Is this what's become of The Jailer? This is his new form? It's... horrific."
The other Chancellors said nothing. Even beneath the hoods of their cloaks, the concern on their faces was unmistakable. One of them turned to the Kite Monk who'd been waiting patiently--sitting atop a white marble bench, looking as though he were in deep contemplation--on the far side of the great hall.
The Chancellor said, "You were right to come to us, Proyy Nogg Wexx. I would agree that these matters are certainly dire enough to awaken the True Master."
The monk rose from the bench. "Did you see what's unfolding in the woods with Gupp Ro' Gamm? That fool refused to heed my--"
The Chancellor interrupted. "That is not our greatest concern. What we see in the Gazing Pool may well be the first flickers of rapture's fire. The beginning of the end, as it was written in the Scrolls."
"Silence," said the head Chancellor. "Watch the water. Something is happening."
And something indeed was...
* * * * * *
The Jailer--his transformation now complete--rose from the table and turned back to face the two shadowed figures. "Hithrid, you bitch. I keep you now as you were then. You and the Betrayer. You are fortunate. You get to witness this blessed day. A day you do not deserve to take part in. Consider this my final gift to you."
The two figures remained silent, motionless.
The Jailer turned to the Black-Robes. "Bring me the Black Vine Shroud."
The three earwig men made off at once to do as they'd been told. They moved to the far corner of the room and surrounded a mass of knotted, tangled vines the color of coal. Black roses between long dark thorns sprouted up from the growth. The Blind Black-Robes hooked their arms beneath vines, lifting the mass as they did this. Now, the underside of the growth was visible, revealing that there was in fact a wooden casket beneath the many vines. They slowly made their back to the large table, carefully placing the casket--vines and all--atop its smooth polished surface. With this accomplished, they stepped away and made themselves scarse.
The Jailer took several deliberate steps toward the Jikk inside the broken stone slab. "My son. We are together at last," said The Jailer in his thunderous voice. There was the slightest touch of sentimentality in his tone. Hearing such an inflection coming from his horrendous new form would have been deeply unsettling for anyone else. However, the Jikk he'd called his son only looked up and smiled.
The Jailer said, "I've kept you in this piece of the God Shelf since you were still a larvae. I dropped you into such a small hole in the rock. Now, look at you. Grown and ready to stand at my side. I've worked on softening that stone all these years, so that it could be cracked when the time was right. I've fed you Knowledges and Wisdoms to nurture your mind. I've transmitted Dark Energies and the Old Arts to strengthen your body. You have received an immeasurable quantity of my power, in a constant stream for your entire life. Your potential is limitless. I am soon to Ascend, Ellgost. I shall be Godhead, and you, my Numen. Do you understand, my son?"
Ellgost got to his feet. He began to rise from the crawlspace, levitating over the stone which had served as his entire world until mere moments ago. "Aye, father."
"Then we shall unseal the Black Vine Shroud together," said The Jailer. He turned back to the large table behind him, his dark eyes returning to the shadowed figures there. "And with its unsealing, your purgatory shall be made eternal, Hithrid."
Ellgost lowered himself to the floor beside his father. Together, as father and son, they approached the Black Vine Shroud; The Jailer taking one end, Ellgost taking the other. The two of them began tearing away the dark vines.
* * * * * *
Several Chancellors gasped in unison--watching the Shroud's unsealing with mounting terror and revulsion. A few of them tried to speak, but couldn't. The water began to ripple, disturbing the image. It was almost as if what the Shroud concealed was too abhorrent for even the fountain itself.
One of the Chancellors collapsed. The others acted as if they didn't even notice.
After several long moments of silent, one of the Chancellors finally lifted head, to turn to the others. "It's finally happening," he whispered.
"What is?" Proyy Nogg asked in an alarmed voice.
"The end of everything," said the head Chancellor. "All of existence."
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Nantha didn't have the heart to tell them. She didn't know how to tell them. She didn't even know where to begin.
Annid Long-Tree, leader of the Savage-Sisters approached the entrance to Tube House. At her side was Ehsh, and several other Savage Sisters, as well as an entire posse of she-Jikk prisoners.
Annid's eyes studied Nantha's closely. "Where is Prince Yallan?"
Nantha forced herself not to look away, to maintain eye contact. "He wanted me to tell you all to go on without him."
"What?" It was Ehsh this time.
Annid looked baffled. "What are you talking about? This isn't the time for jokes, Nantha. Tell the Prince to hurry. We've got the gate open."
"He isn't here," Nantha said flatly. "He's already down below, working to free the prisoners in Jailhouse 2."
Annid considered this a moment. She appeared to do some brief mental calculations. Finally, she nodded. "Well, why didn't you say that from the start? Then let's get going. The Jail-Keepers and Guards will rush in anytime now."
Nantha gave a meaningful nod. "I'm right behind you."
She followed the others away from Tube House and across Dark Cell toward Gate Wall. They did indeed have the gate opened, just as Annid had promised.
"Was it difficult to pry open?" Nantha asked.
"A little," Annid admitted. "But we used the pickaxes and mining tools, just as planned." She pointed to the bars of the gate. Several of them were bent out of shape in the middle. The gate itself hung open, slightly askew. Just on the other side, a crowd of prisoners stood waiting. All of Dark Cell was here, it seemed. Many of them wielded the pickaxes and large chisels used for mining the ore they'd been forced to collect for the Guards.
Nantha felt excitement and adrenaline swell up in her chest. Were they actually doing this, after all these years? It didn't seem possible. It felt like a dream.
The ordinarily dank, stale air of the jail seemed almost electric in that moment. Nantha felt alive for the first time in more years than she could recount. She wasn't just drawing breath, surviving from one day to the next. She was actually living.
Even if this escape attempt meant her death, she thought it would be worth it just for this brief feeling of being alive.
"The Prince is in Jailhouse 2 already," Annid announced to the crowd.
Lively murmurs broke out at once. Nantha's exaltation turned to anxiousness. They were going to be suspicious. Of course they were. Why wouldn't they be? The Dirt Prince was their leader. This uprising was his uprising. Would they truly believe he'd already made it to Jailhouse 2? What more excuse for his absence could she possibly give them? What other reasons would they actually accept?
"How?" asked someone in the crowd. "We never saw him leave?"
Nantha's heart sank. Doing her best to remain calm, she said, "Prince Yallan has his ways."
For a wonder, this actually seemed to satisfy them. Thanks the Gods for Yallan's esoteric, eccentric nature. Yallan, or whoever he was. So much of what Nantha thought she'd known about him had turned out to be a lie. Yet, still, Jikk or human, or whatever he might have been, if there was one fact about him that remained indisputable, it was that he was definitely one who had some rather strange ways about them. Clearly, if recent events in the Tubes were any indication. But then again, Nantha mused, it likely took one of strange ways to not only plan, but pull off something as mad as the uprising.
After a few more moments of excited chatter, they got moving without any further inquiries into the Prince, or his whereabouts. Much to Nantha's great relief.
If they were still alive when the uprising was over, she could tell them all the truth then.
Or, she thought as they marched down the wide corridor toward the rest of the jail, perhaps it was something she'd simply keep to herself. What good would knowing do any of the others? Knowing the truth certainly hadn't done her any good. As she looked around at the determined faces of her sister-Jikk, a part of her thought that it was best this way--with the so-called "Dirt Prince" nowhere in evidence, and the truth unknown to anyone save for her. Afterall, she told herself, The Jailer's crimes had been against she-Jikk more than anyone else. Sure, he'd taken younglings, and the elderly, and the disabled. He'd occasionally taken male Jikk; particularly those who caused too much trouble for his liking in Lo Syy Tett. But he hadn't targeted anyone else the way he'd targeted she-Jikk. The population of the Jails was around 85 to 90 percent she-Jikk.
Therefore, why should a male be the one to lead the uprising? Even before you considered the fact that said male wasn't even a Jikk.
Yes. It was much better this way. More fitting. Perhaps, if by some great miracle they survived all of this, Nantha could begin planting the idea that the Dirt Prince had really been apart of the planning stages of their revolt, more than anything else. The actual execution of said plan, however? That was a purely female undertaking.
Nantha walked between Annid Long-Tree and Ehsh, her head held high. There was still much to do. They were far from being in the clear yet. This was only the first step. The beginning.
They had lots more still to do, if they wanted to capture sweet, sweet freedom.
And as Nantha knew all too well, this was the only chance they would ever get...
•2•
The passageway was littered with decapitated corpses.
Ekkr stared down at the boomerang in his hand, with a growing mixture of wonder and horror in almost equal measure. This seemed far too powerful a weapon for someone like himself to wield.
"Well done, lad!" Wolfgang exclaimed.
"Shhh!" hissed the she-ant. "You idiot. Do you want the entire Jailhouse to hear you?
"Oh, right," Wolfgang said, lowering his voice. "Appologies, lass."
They moved down the passageway, stepping over or around bodies of fallen Jail-Keepers. Ekkr counted nine of them in total. The boomerang had cut a clean path straight through them all. Ekkr took slow, deliberate steps forward. The metallic scent of fresh blood hung in the air like an invisible vapor. Having Wolfgang at his side was the only reason Ekkr was able to continue on without stopping out of shock, or fear. Kanka and Ullteffa were close at their heels, wordlessly surveying the corpses.
As they made their way beyond the gruesome scene and down the remainder of the passageway, an almost tangible silence fell over their small group. Ekkr could practically feel the she-ant's eyes boring into the back of his head.
She's REALLY going to mistrust me now. She's probably waiting for the right moment to slip a dagger into my back, just to eliminate me as a potential threat.
The passageway became a wide corridor. Here, were the first banks of jail cells. The walls on either side of the party were lined with them; cold black steel bars like the teeth of a dark stone maw. These cells were empty.
Ekkr stopped, turning to face the others. The Ronzaxx and Willtakk also stopped walked. Ullteffa regarded him with calice suspicion. Ekkr saw her hand twitch for a brief moment, as if she intended to go for the ebony saber strapped to her back--perhaps, mostly out of reflex--before deciding to wait a moment. The Bandit only scowled, folding his arms across his chest. Wolfgang, for his part, continued walking a few more steps before halting. He did a kind of pivoting spin on the heel of one boot, reminiscent of the way Ekkr had seen Grassblade Proeliators turn in order to do an about face, for their marching drills during training exercises.
The frog raised his hairless brow. "Trouble, my boy?"
Ekkr felt his entire body tense. He was very conscious of where he held the boomerang, making absolutely certain not to do anything with it that might be misinterpreted as a threat. He looked the she-ant directly in her dark gemstone eyes. The moment he did this, he wished he hadn't. He saw nothing resembling mortal emotion in those eyes. They were cold and hard as the Void Gems from which they'd been fashioned. He summoned all the (considerably scarse) courage he had in him. He thought of the leaf, and the Weaver. He thought of his new title. He was Curator. That had to mean he was worthy of something didn't it? Well.. something. What that something might have been, he hadn't a clue, but there it was all the same. Ekkr Thrice-Flown, Curator of the Weaver.
This didn't do much to still his rapid-beating heart, but it did grant him a small modicum of strength in his resolve. He leaned on that small modicum like a crutch. Like a steady stone buttress during an earthquake. Like a hand helping an injured friend stand upright, after a nasty fall.
"I can't keep going on like this," Ekkr said. "Every moment. Waiting for a blade to slide across my throat. Please. I really have been truthful with you. I am just as confused as you are in this moment. The dagger you gave me... I threw it, and it came back as... well... as this." He looked down at the boomerang, not daring to move it even an inch; even to emphasize his point. "This is completely new and strange and unknown to me. So... I suppose what I'm saying is... please. I beg of you. I... actually, I don't know what I'm asking. I'm just..." he trailed off. He had no idea how to finish.
The she-ant and Ronzaxx only stared at him, looking utterly indifferent.
Wolfgang (bless him) decided to step in. He moved closer, to clap a webbed hand on Ekkr's back. "I believe what this right and fine gent here is trying to say, is that you're a beautiful woman, in need of a strong gentleman like myself."
Ekkr couldn't believe it. His mouth fell open. He actually emitted a small squeaking sound, for a brief instant. He stared at the frog with complete incredulous. "I meant no such thing!"
The Bandit bowed his head, jabbing his fingertips into his hard brow. He muttered, just loud enough to be heard: "Please let me kill 'em, Boss Lady. Please let me kill 'em. Can I? Please?"
Ullteffa said nothing. Her eyes never left Ekkr, but she maintained a complete and agonizing silence.
Wolfgang said, "Wasn't it, lad? My mistake. Perhaps, it was I who meant to suggest that very thing."
Ekkr openly cringed. This was almost as painful to witness, as it was terrifying.
"Well, maddam?" Wolfgang said, grinning. "What do you, my lady?"
Ullteffa's eyes finally left Ekkr, shifting over to Wolfgang. Then, she blinked. Once, then a second time. It was a bizarre, surreal thing to witness due to her Void Gem eyes.
For a moment, the painful silence hung between them. Ekkr felt every fraction of every second pass in excruciating stillness.
But then, like a ray of sunlight from behind a dark cloud, the she-ant blinked a final time... and smiled.
She actually smiled.
Ekkr was stunned. Baffled. Stupefied.
He now realized how beautiful the she-ant truly was. He'd been too terrified of her to see it before. She was gorgeous. Much too gorgeous to smiling in this way at the frog. It made no sense. It was mind-boggling.
Kanka went on scowling for half a second. Then, his scowl fell away as his eyes went from Ullteffa to Wolfgang--Ullteffa to Wolfgang, back to Ullteffa, back to Wolfgang--before finally landing on Ullteffa one finally time and remaining there. A look of both jealousy and anger began to wash across his cockroach face. It made him look menacing, and a touch pathetic. Almost like a Learning Hall bully who torments other younglings because of his own insecurities.
Ullteffa said, "You truly are an idiot. You do know that, don't you?" She sighed, shaking her head. She was still smiling, however. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the smile vanished and she was all business once more. "Let's get moving."
When Ekkr and Wolfgang remained where they were, the she-ant sighed again; this time with a bit of frustration added. "Fine. I still don't trust either of you, but I'll set my suspicions aside. This time, I sincerely mean it."
The Bandit stared at her, as if he couldn't believe what she'd just said. "But Boss Lady, we--"
She raised her hand, silencing him. Kanka glared off into space, mumbling something under his breath.
Ullteffa said, "Now then. If we keep standing here, we're only going to give The Jailer more time to plan our executions."
This got them all in motion again. As they walked beyond the empty cells, Ekkr looked over to the frog. Nothing seemed to make sense when Wolfgang was around. It was as if the frog were a force of nature, and everything (or everyone) around him was caught up in his peculiar brand of charm. The amphibian had all the whimsical charisma of a trickster God. Ekkr began to wonder just how much Wolfgang's company had influenced him. He also began to wonder just how much of their current situation was prompted by the Weaver, and how much had been on account of Wolfgang. The Weaver had directed him here, but the courage it took to actually go delving down in the lair of The Jailer? That might very well have been a different story.
Wolfgang, noticing Ekkr watching him, looked up and grinned. He tipped Ekkr a wink. Ekkr sighed and turned away. What a strange, strange creature, he thought.
They walked on, down a wide passage and out through another corridor. There were no jail cells here. In there place, were a set of stone doors; rounded at the tops, and lighter gray than the surrounding stone. Ekkr stopped before the third door on the left, pointing.
"This one," he said.
The others nodded, gathering around the door.
Instead of a handle, or doorknob, there was a notch punched into the rock. Ekkr placed his hand into the groove and pulled. The stone door came down like a drawbridge. It was much too heavy for the Jikk to hold. When it swung down, it slipped from his grasp. The Bandit darted forward, just in time to catch the heavy slab of stone before it crashed to the floor.
Kanka shook his head, flashing an irritated glare in Ekkr's direction. "Who needs alarm bells when they've got you around?"
"Apologies," Ekkr said lamely, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.
Kanka gently lowered the slab onto the floor. The four of them walked across it and into an oval-shaped room of pale gray stone. There was a steel rod sticking up from the center of the room. In the place where the rod disappeared beneath the floor, there was an inch-and-a-half wide gap, outlined by a circle carved into the stone.
Once they were all inside, Ullteffa said: "Allow me."
She stepped forward and took hold of the steel bar. She pulled it toward her, then moved it in a slow circle, letting it trace over the gap in the floor. For a moment, she looked like a dye maker stirring a pot of boiled plant pigments. The door behind them sprang back into place with a muffled slam. There was a soft scraping sound--the whine of metal gears--then the entire room began to turn. An overlapping wall began to encroach upon the door, swallowing it inch by inch as the room moved. The beginnings of a narrow gap appeared in the far wall, at the same time. Little by little, the gap widened as the room continued to turn, until an unobscured passageway opened where the wall had been.
"Fancy," said Wolfgang. "A rotating room."
The she-ant said nothing. She released the steel rod and stepped away from it. She looked to Ekkr expectantly.
Ekkr nodded, remembering he was the one who was supposed to lead the way. He tensed his shoulders and stepped through the mouth of the passage. Wolfgang followed beside him.
The four of them walked for only a short distance, before they reached a new corridor, lined with jailcells. There were long hallways winding into darkness, breaking up each set of cells--six cell blocks in all, with a hallway between each. And in every cell, there were prisoners. Some of them were lying down in the corner, sleeping. Others were leaning against the bars. Most of them were sitting in the middle of the cell floor looking utterly pitiful. Ekkr spotted a small handful of younglings, and a single elderly male. The rest were all she-Jikk. Each cell contained between twelve and fifteen prisoners. Close to eighty inmates in all.
The four of them stopped in the center of the corridor, looking around at the prisoners. For Ekkr, it was an absolutely heart-wrenching sight.
One of the younglings rushed over to the bars of her cell. She called out in a small, weak voice: "Are you here to help us? Please. Please help us. Get us out of here."
An aging she-Jikk reached down and swatted the youngling across the side of her face. She furiously whispered, "Shut up! We don't know who they are. Sit down and be quiet. Now!"
The youngling bowed her head and did as she was told. Ekkr saw the little one's wings begin to quiver, birthing a soft bzzttt sound; the Jikk equivalent of sobbing.
Ekkr held up a hand and waved. "It's alright. We don't work for The Jailer."
"We aren't here to help them, either," Ullteffa scolded. "Keep moving, Ekkr Thrice-Flown. We don't have time to chitchat."
Ekkr stared out across the corridor at the frightened, hopeless faces of the prisoners. Could he really just walk away and leave them?"
"Can't we do something?" he protested. "At least open their cells, perhaps?"
"Ekkr Thrice-Flown," Ullteffa said in a tone that was all the answer he needed.
Ekkr slumped his shoulders, feeling deflated. This wasn't right. These were innocent Jikk. How could he just leave them here?
That was when the Weaver's words echoed throughout his mind.
Find the Warden. Free the prisoners.
Yes. Yes. This was it. This was his purpose here. Half of it, at least. The Weaver had sent him here to help these Jikk. This was what he needed to do in order to find his redemption. Free the prisoners. This was his mission.
But how in Vellnoth's Name was he supposed to actually accomplish this?
As if sensing his distress, Wolfgang placed a webbed hand on Ekkr's arm. "We can come back for them, lad."
Ekkr looked down at the short, stubby Amphibian. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, my good man, we came here to free the canine, did we not? Once we've done that, I see no reason why we cannot help these fine folks find freedom on our way out, lad."
Ekkr considered this a moment. If the Warden were with them, they might just be able to pull this off, and live to tell the tale. The canine would definitely assist them, as well. Success would all depend on how The Jailer responded to their trespassing in his domain. But... maybe, just maybe, they could do it. The chances of helping the prisoners, and actually getting them out of this place would go up drastically if the Warden was also free and at their side.
Ekkr gazed over at the inmates again, before turning back to Wolfgang. "Alright. But you must give me your word we will return for them."
"My word is my bond, lad. I give you my word as a gentleman, and a swordsman."
"Alright," Ekkr said. "Then let's go find the Warden."
•3•
Paladin Zeyas (known to the inmates of Dark Pit as Dirt Prince Yallan Torchpath) moved along the wall of the slender passageway, feeling for the unseen Rune he knew would be there. After searching around for several moments, his fingertips finally slid across an uneven part of the stone. To the untrained eye, the wall here was no different than it was anywhere else. To Zeyas however, it was his key to breaking out of this place. He pressed his fingers into the Rune. Soon, the stone began to glow with soft red light. Then, the light brightened to a vibrant crimson.
Zeyas pushed against the Rune. The floor slid out from beneath his feet, sending him falling into darkness. He used the wings of his armored suit (the one designed to make him look indistinguishable from a Jikk when he wore it) to avoid a nasty landing. He came down several levels below Jailhouse 1.
He secured his helm back in place, giving himself increased low light vision. He was in the Main Access Tunnel now. The Master Switch was located somewhere on this floor. All the Paladin had to do was find it, activate the thing, and every door to every cell in the entire facility would open. It was a fail safe, in the event of some major catastrophe. And now, it would serve as Zeyas's greatest tool in aiding the Jikk in their uprising.
The Paladin ran down the long corridor, through unlit tunnels and dark passageways.
Soon, he would give the Insectoids of this place their freedom.
•4•
Nantha became one more face in a sea of prisoners. She let herself blend in with the crowd. She was glad not to be leading the charge, but was all the more glad to be apart of it. They marched on, into the general inmate areas of Jailhouse 1, putting Dark Pit further and further behind them.
"What's happening?" asked an alarmed voice from one of the cells up ahead. "Is this a riot?"
"Freedom!" someone in their group shouted, raising a hand.
"Let us out! We want to come with you!"
Nantha heard Annid's voice answer. "Patience. The Dirt Prince is finding the Master Switch as we speak, if all is going according to plan. We have our own part to play. As soon as your cell doors open, make for the nearest corridor. Soon, we will all be free."
There was a collective cheer from the other prisoners.
Nantha only hoped Annid's words would prove true. And that the so-called Dirt Prince was really still holding up his part in things. Otherwise, this might all be for nothing, she realized.
The members of the uprising pushed on. They slipped down passages, moved through large cavernous chambers, toward their destination: Coridor Prime. If they could just make it there, they'd be able to access almost any part of the Tunnels. It was a secret of this facility Yallan had discovered, though he'd never revealed how he came by the information. You couldn't get to Corridor Prime unless you went through Tunnel Eight. It only went one way. Once your left Corridor Prime using one of its many shafts and passageways, a Rune Seal blocked you from returning, unless you went all the way back to Tunnel Eight. It was a security feature, and an escape detourant. You had to know which shaft to choose, or else you'd end up in the wrong part of the Tunnels, without a way back.
According to the Prince, they just had to go through the shaft marked with the Source Rune symbol for 'lake'. This would leave them in the chamber beneath the Chartreuse Pool.
The forbidden waters...
Nantha thought back to her time in Lo Syy Tett, all those years ago. She recalled learning about Jikk customs and the Jikkellian faith. She'd been taught that the Chartreuse Pool was forbidden, in accordance with religious law.
The Jailer had used this to his advantage. Used, and abused this fact. The truth was, even by the laws of their faith, Jikk could enter the Chartreuse Pool, so long as they were given a blessing directly from Vellnoth the Lesser. The Jailer and his minions claimed to have such a blessing.
The Mind Mother's influence had convinced them all of the validity of this claim. That same influence had also convinced them the Green Leaf Scrolls' passing reference to the forbidden nature of the Chartreuse Pool was actually one of their religion's core tenants.
Yallan (who wasn't actually named Yallan) had been right. The Mind Mother did have to be destroyed. Jikk needed to realize the atrocities being committed here. As long as the Mind Mother lived, that couldn't happen. Perhaps, on an individual level, it could. But not on a wide scale. Nantha was bitterly glad the false Prince had slain the awful creature. Otherwise, she and the other prisoners might have been too fearful of Vellnoth's wrath to utilize their main escape route.
Nantha snapped back to the present. The crowd in front of her had stopped abruptly, just as they reached the mouth of the next tunnel between corridors. There were whispers of alarm, even fear. Nantha was forced to squeeze or push her way between several inmates, before she was able to make it up to the front of the pack.
Now, she saw what had promoted commotion; the reason why they'd stopped.
The tunnel was not very long. From here, Nantha could see where it ended, before it gave way to yet another block of cells in the corridor beyond. And there, at the opposite end of the tunnel, stood a group of figures. There were four of them. Each one wielded a weapon.
There was a meek looking Jikk. He held a weapon Nantha had never seen before. It was emerald-hued and almost looked like a throwing knife, but not like any normal throwing knife. It was curved in the center. The Jikk seemed just as anxious and alarmed as Nantha felt. Oddest of all was the fact that--aside from a pair of sandals and some tattered undergarments--he was completely disrobed.
Beside the Jikk was one of the strangest creatures Nantha had ever seen. It had a large round head that seemed too massive for its body. In place of chitin, the thing had flesh as green as a spinach leaf, and stood much shorter than the grasshopper man beside it. The creature was dressed in odd attire that didn't seem to match any of the modern styles. The creature had a wooden crossbow in its arms.
The other two figures were what Jikkellians referred to as Children of Ziilk; followers of the false God sometimes called Rogue In Rouge.
A Ronzaxx roachman and a Willtakk she-ant. The former held a silver dagger that might have glistened had there been any light source; the latter wielded an ebony saber. While the Jikk looked concerned and the short green creature appeared almost excited, the two Children of Ziilk were watching the large group of inmates with a mixture of amusement and something close to menace.
One of the braver she-Jikk in front of Nantha snatched a pickaxe from the prisoner beside her, and stepped forward. She raised her voice so that it carried across the tunnel. "We aren't going back to our cells now matter what you do!" she challenged. Although the she-Jikk spoke with confident command, Nantha could see her left leg trembling slightly out of fear
Nantha thought she heard the she-ant snort at this--as though the words were too ridiculous to remain silent--but it may have only been her imagination. Across the tunnel, it was difficult to know for certain.
The partially nude Jikk stepped forward. He kept his weapon lowered at his side, as it he weren't sure what to do with it. In a warm, friendly tone, he said: "I'm not going to force you back to your cells. I'm here to help you escape."
Nantha and the other inmates glanced around at one another. None of them seemed to have any clue how to proceed.
•5•
The panicked faces of several Guards and Jail-Keepers appeared before him. Floor Master Guvven considered them a moment, before raising a hand and gesturing for them to speak.
"Uh, Floor Master Guvven, sir? There are trespassers," said one of the Jail-Keepers (Guvven could never remember most of his subordinates' names, nor did he care to remember; they were unimportant to him--he cared only for his Riot Responders).
Guvven stared at him, stonefaced. A congregation of Purple Spiders clinging to the roof of the chamber cast soft, odd shadows across Guvven's features. "Do you think I'm not already aware?"
"No, sir, but they just took out several of our Jail-Keepers. They even got Gosoma."
Guvven cocked his head to one side. Now this was interesting. Gosoma of the Lash was one of his best. Anyone who could take down the head Riot Responder was a force to be reckoned with. This intrigued Guvven a great deal. It had been so long since he'd seen any real action.
A Purple Spider dropped down from the ceiling and landed on his shoulder. Through the spider, came the voice of Porter Huuth. He said, "All Floor Masters are to head to Jailhouse 1 immediately. We have trespassers. Leave Jail-Keepers and Guards at their post. Don't let any prisoners out of their cells. Bring only your top warriors with you. Head to Jailhouse 1, Tunnel Seven. Intercept the trespassers, and cut them off before they reach Tunnel Eight. They'll be bound for Corridor Prime. Kill them on sight. These orders come directly from The Jailer himself. Make haste, everyone. If you fail, you deal with me."
The voice cut out and the spider scurried down Guvven's arm, before dropping onto the floor and scampering away.
Guvven realized the Jail-Keepers and Guards were all still standing there, watching him expectantly with varying degrees of anxious fret plastered across their features. "What are you all still doing here? Did you hear the orders? Get to your posts!"
All at once, every one of them turned and made off for the cell blocks, practically tripping over one another as they went.
Just before the last of them were out of sight, Guvven called: "And send me my Riot Responders! The ones I have left!"
"Yes, Floor Master," one of them said.
Then, they were gone.
Guvven voiced a single dry cackle. "Well then. Looks like we're in for some fun." He reached for his massive warhammer which he'd propped upright against the chamber wall. Hammer in hand, he moved to the back of the room and stopped before a chest-high steel cage. Glowing yellow eyes shaped like dagger blades peered out at him through the bars, from the darkness beyond the cage door.
Guvven bent down to fiddle with the lock. "Been a while since I let you out of here, eh? You ready to go hunting again, old friend?"
There was a deep, hungry growl from inside the cage. Guvven grinned. "That's right. You're gonna have some fun with me, my friend." Guvven flicked the lock and popped open the door.
•6•
Elsewhere, in various parts of the jailhouse, the other Floor Masters had just finished listening to Porter Huuth's message.
In Jailhouse 3, Floor Master Ovtuk watched the Purple Spider that delivered the orders as it made for a crack in the stone floor of the tunnel.
He turned to the figure on his left. "Strongest warriors, he said?"
"That's what he said," replied Floor Master Snann. "I would reckon that means the four Majors."
Ovtuk nodded. "Sounds about right. I'll bring Meex while I'm at it. Can't think of a good reason to leave him behind."
Floor Master Snann unfastened the leather thong he used to secure his vine whip to his belt (his vine whip, which might have been called a "cat-o'-nine-tails" were he from a place called Earth, or if he knew what a cat was). "Let's go make the Porters of the Hand proud."
And in a part of the jailhouse known as Dread Point...
Floor Master Klivis and his strongest warrior--a Jikk built like a brick shithouse who went by the name Foxglove--marched down the long winding passageway that would take them up to Jailhouse 1. As they neared the end of the passage, a sinister sounding voice called out them.
"Leaving without me?"
Klivis and Foxglove both stopped and turned at the utterance. Klivis felt a slight chill run along the base of his neck (a rather uncommon occurrence for an Insectoid with an exoskeleton) when his eyes fell upon the one who'd spoken.
Klivis was a mean, merciless Floor Master by all accounts. He favored beating the prisoners, over... well, pretty much everything. Beating prisoners had become something of a passtime for him. It gave the Floor Master a thrill like nothing else ever had. He was a cold, calice Jikk who reveled in violence.
And yet... even Klivis felt uneasy around the figure he now saw before him.
"Nazro?" Klivis whispered. He wasn't sure why he was whispering. Something about the other Floor Master almost seemed to demand it. As if he had to lessen even the volume of his own voice in the presence of this particular Jikk. "You made it up here rather quickly."
"Of course," said Nazro cheerfully. His voice and expression were that of a good-natured chum, chumming it up with his fellow chums. This was all an act, however. Klivis could see it in his eyes. Even when Nazro smiled, his eyes remained cold and lifeless.
"I see," Klivis said sheepishly. It was all he could think to say.
"The Porter said to make haste, afterall."
"He did," Klivis said. He looked to Foxglove for assistance, but Foxglove seemed to be studying the floor as if it interested him a great deal.
"Come on," Nazro said. "I'll walk up with you."
Klivis didn't think there was anything in the world he desired less than to be accompanied by Floor Master Nazro. However, unable to come up with a good excuse to avoid this uncomfortable situation, Klivis simply nodded. "Alright then."
Together, the three of them made their way to Jailhouse 1. As they did, the rest of the Floor Masters and their top subordinates did likewise. And in no time at all, the Tunnels near Dark Pit were crawling with them...
•7•
The Comet's Crest Chancellors gathered around the white marble fountain, gazing with great interest into its shimmering waters. Through the surface of the water, they saw as one might see through a pane of glass...
Desolate Chasm--private quarters of The Jailer...
* * * * * *
From the ceiling, the glow of an entire nest of Purple Spiders bathed the room in soft lavender. Yet, this glow was unable to penetrate many of the shadows within; as if they weren't shadows at all, but rather, living things spawned of the absence of light. A portion of the floor near the entryway had been raised, revealing a previously hidden chamber no bigger than a jail cell. A slab of dark brown stone the size of a coffin sat in this crawlspace beneath the floor. The three Blind Black-Robes stood before this secret chamber. Together, moving in synchronization, they stooped down over the stone slab and placed their hands onto its cool, rough surface.
There was a sound like boiling water being poured over ice cubes as the rock began to crack apart, sending hairline fractures across the length of the slab. The stone split in two, right down the center. The two halves fell against the walls of the crawlspace, revealing that the stone slab had in fact been hollow. There was a Jikk inside the stone; lying on his back with his arms and legs, wings nearly tucked away. He stared up at them with emotionless regard.
From the back of the room, a voice that sounded the way a graveyard might sound were it given the power of speech, echoed throughout the chamber. "Ellgost. My only son."
The Jikk inside the broken stone sat upright and looked around. Beyond the three blindfolded earwig men, stood a table of polished ebony. It was as long as the bar counter in a tavern, and ran from one wall to the other--cutting across the entire room from left to right. There were strange instruments and mechanisms at one end of the table. Atop the opposite end, was a bulky object beneath an old gray tarp. And at the center of the table, sat three figures. Two of them were engulfed in shadow, obscuring their form. They appeared to be completely motionless. Between the pair of shadowed figures was the third.
* * * * * *
A Chancellor gasped, taking a step back. "Gods," he whispered. "Is this what's become of The Jailer? This is his new form? It's... horrific."
The other Chancellors said nothing. Even beneath the hoods of their cloaks, the concern on their faces was unmistakable. One of them turned to the Kite Monk who'd been waiting patiently--sitting atop a white marble bench, looking as though he were in deep contemplation--on the far side of the great hall.
The Chancellor said, "You were right to come to us, Proyy Nogg Wexx. I would agree that these matters are certainly dire enough to awaken the True Master."
The monk rose from the bench. "Did you see what's unfolding in the woods with Gupp Ro' Gamm? That fool refused to heed my--"
The Chancellor interrupted. "That is not our greatest concern. What we see in the Gazing Pool may well be the first flickers of rapture's fire. The beginning of the end, as it was written in the Scrolls."
"Silence," said the head Chancellor. "Watch the water. Something is happening."
And something indeed was...
* * * * * *
The Jailer--his transformation now complete--rose from the table and turned back to face the two shadowed figures. "Hithrid, you bitch. I keep you now as you were then. You and the Betrayer. You are fortunate. You get to witness this blessed day. A day you do not deserve to take part in. Consider this my final gift to you."
The two figures remained silent, motionless.
The Jailer turned to the Black-Robes. "Bring me the Black Vine Shroud."
The three earwig men made off at once to do as they'd been told. They moved to the far corner of the room and surrounded a mass of knotted, tangled vines the color of coal. Black roses between long dark thorns sprouted up from the growth. The Blind Black-Robes hooked their arms beneath vines, lifting the mass as they did this. Now, the underside of the growth was visible, revealing that there was in fact a wooden casket beneath the many vines. They slowly made their back to the large table, carefully placing the casket--vines and all--atop its smooth polished surface. With this accomplished, they stepped away and made themselves scarse.
The Jailer took several deliberate steps toward the Jikk inside the broken stone slab. "My son. We are together at last," said The Jailer in his thunderous voice. There was the slightest touch of sentimentality in his tone. Hearing such an inflection coming from his horrendous new form would have been deeply unsettling for anyone else. However, the Jikk he'd called his son only looked up and smiled.
The Jailer said, "I've kept you in this piece of the God Shelf since you were still a larvae. I dropped you into such a small hole in the rock. Now, look at you. Grown and ready to stand at my side. I've worked on softening that stone all these years, so that it could be cracked when the time was right. I've fed you Knowledges and Wisdoms to nurture your mind. I've transmitted Dark Energies and the Old Arts to strengthen your body. You have received an immeasurable quantity of my power, in a constant stream for your entire life. Your potential is limitless. I am soon to Ascend, Ellgost. I shall be Godhead, and you, my Numen. Do you understand, my son?"
Ellgost got to his feet. He began to rise from the crawlspace, levitating over the stone which had served as his entire world until mere moments ago. "Aye, father."
"Then we shall unseal the Black Vine Shroud together," said The Jailer. He turned back to the large table behind him, his dark eyes returning to the shadowed figures there. "And with its unsealing, your purgatory shall be made eternal, Hithrid."
Ellgost lowered himself to the floor beside his father. Together, as father and son, they approached the Black Vine Shroud; The Jailer taking one end, Ellgost taking the other. The two of them began tearing away the dark vines.
* * * * * *
Several Chancellors gasped in unison--watching the Shroud's unsealing with mounting terror and revulsion. A few of them tried to speak, but couldn't. The water began to ripple, disturbing the image. It was almost as if what the Shroud concealed was too abhorrent for even the fountain itself.
One of the Chancellors collapsed. The others acted as if they didn't even notice.
After several long moments of silent, one of the Chancellors finally lifted head, to turn to the others. "It's finally happening," he whispered.
"What is?" Proyy Nogg asked in an alarmed voice.
"The end of everything," said the head Chancellor. "All of existence."
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