An Encounter Most Peculiar

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

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Closed.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

After several seconds, I had decided that I had indeed heard light footsteps in the living room. Far lighter and softer than anything Nell was capable of with her heavyset frame.

It was pitch black in my apartment as I lay still in my bed, covered by light sheets. It had to have been past midnight--perhaps two or three in the morning. I held my breath, waiting for any other telltale sounds hinting that I was not alone.

Nothing.

And then, a soft creak of leather boots on old floorboards.

I exhaled softly and silently, and rolled over to face the doorway. In the darkness, I strained to see the doorway. The door had been open all night, as I left it every night. A frown crossed my lips and a silent curse whispered in my mind. Whoever had been out there could have made their way in here, and I wouldn't have seen them enter my bedroom.

Shit.

Who could it have been, though? I was certain that it wasn't just the house settling--those were the distinct sounds of a trespasser that had woken me from my sleep. An agent from the Church of the Ethereal Sway? An assassin sent by the shattered remains of the government of Eiskalt? Maybe one of those old culties from back in Corone who I had a tendency of pissing off?

I waited in silence for a sign, any sign. The glint of starlight off a sharpened blade. The soft rustle of clothing as the figure approached. The whispered promise of death from behind a black mask.

Again, nothing.

After several minutes of lying in total silence, I decided that if the intruder wasn't going to show their face, then dammit, I would find them myself. I intentionally shifted my weight to make the bed creak as I rose from it. My silk nightgown fell in place around me as I stood up. Acting as if I were just rising to casually make use of the privy, I took measured steps towards my dresser, fumbling around for the oil lamp and the box of long matches I kept there. Careful not to light my briar-knit fingers ablaze, I struck a match and lit the lamp. The warm orange glow quickly filled the room, illuminating my surroundings and casting several dancing shadows along the four walls.

The very moment I set down the lamp and turned towards the doorway, a figure clad in utter darkness sprung from the corner by the doorway and produced a very mean-looking dagger. Ah, there you are, I thought to myself as I quickly moved out of the way. The knife continued its arc, filling the space I had been in moments before as my would-be killer brushed past me, quickly turning around with the intention of trying to run me through for a second time.

As my cloaked assailant spun around, the hood fell from around her head, coming to a rest on her shoulders. By the light, I could make out her features. She had straight, raven-black hair, a thin nose, and lips scowl that I could find admirable. Her eyes were a piercing shade of blue.

And it took me just a split second to realize... I was looking at myself.

The woman must've realized this herself--dagger raised up high, she looked at me for a brief second, my own surprised stare illuminated in the orange glow of the lamp. She froze, her grimace quickly changing into a gasp.

With one vine-braided swing and a sickening crack, I laid the bitch out cold.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

"Well," I said after several minutes of silence, "isn't this the strangest shit I've seen all week."

Several lamps illuminated the kitchen as we both sat at the table, trying to make sense of the events that had conspired tonight. After I had knocked her out cold, I resisted the instinct to murder this assassin who bear an uncanny resemblance to myself. Something deep down inside of me told me that, for once, I would be doing something incredibly wrong if I ended her. It was a small voice at first, but it quickly crescendoed into a chorus that I could not ignore.

She looked exactly like me--save for a few scars that tastefully decorated her own face that I certainly did not have. This doppelganger of mine was clad in the full black leather getup that was customary for the Freebird family of assassins, which I found extremely curious. For anyone other than my wretched family to wear that gear is basically a deathwish.

The woman sat across from me, a small chunk of ice pressed to the side of her face, attempting to reduce the swelling from my powerful blow. I had busted her lip; a small trail of dried blood had made its way down the side of her face. She insisted that she had been hurt worse, and refused to take anything from the myriad of medicines I kept lying around the apartment.

"You're telling me," she replied. Her voice was hoarser than my own, but just by a little. It was a tone that told me all about a life of hardship and death.

I leaned back in my chair and yawned deeply. "So, um... I guess the beginning is as good of a place as any to start, yeah?"

The black and blue eyed woman nodded.

"Tell me what brought you here. From the beginning, please."

She set the chunk of ice down on the table, and gingerly touched her busted lip with a gloved hand. "I... This is going to sound so strange, but... I don't know. I fell asleep one night, and dreamed that I was falling... just... falling. There was no end to it. I tried to scream, but no sound came out of my throat. All I could hear was this sort of buzzing woosh..." She picked the ice back up and held it to the side of her face once more. "When I woke up, I felt like I had been torn apart piece by piece, and then reassembled. I also found a letter next to my bed--no, more like a contract. It didn't give a client or the name of a target; just a vague description and an address."

"And here you are," I offered. My doppelganger nodded.

I leaned forward, resting my arms on the table as I mulled things over. Why did I not kill this poor girl when I had the chance? What stopped me from just choking the life out of her with my vines, or melting her face off with acid? Who was she, really? Who put the contract out on my life?

I opened my mouth to say something, but she spoke first. "Tirel's a lot different from the last time I was here. I heard that the Church retook it from the chieftains, but that it was razed in the process."

It was supposed to be an off-hand comment just to stall for time and make conversation, but in a situation like this, it struck me as incredibly odd. I rested my arms on the table and leaned in close, narrowing my gaze. "Excuse me?"

She turned her head slightly, unsure how to respond. "Y'know, the orc chieftains? Who came down from Berevar some twenty years back and conquered most of Salvar? You're fucking living here, and you don't know about that?"

"There's been no orc invasion here," I said with an unsure tone. "A civil war between the country and the Church a couple years back, but no invasions."

The woman frowned. "Bullshit. The forces of several nations routed the chieftains just last year. This city was burned to the ground in the siege. How could you not know that?"

A sinking feeling suddenly formed in my stomach as a small theory began forming in my mind. I took a deep breath. Dark feelings swirled around my mind, dredging up memories of dark times I hoped to have forgotten as a name formed on the tip of my tongue. "How's... How's Trevor?" My voice was soft and quiet.

"Trevor?" The raven-haired woman looked at me sideways, unsure of how to react to hearing that name. "Trevor? How do you know that name?"

The crimson-stained memory of the ambush that led to my brother's death flashed in my mind. "Trevor fucking Freebird. Is he dead?"

The woman across the table from me took a deep breath, looking insulted. "Of course not, don't be stupid. Nobody could ever get close enough to lay a finger on him. If you know his name, then obviously you know that my brother is the leader of the Freebird clan."

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

The assassin's statement hung heavy in the air as my words left me. Trevor was alive. It was a lie; I watched him die. I watch the son of a bitch, the only family member I had ever loved... I watched him, helpless as I was, get run through by a mercenary's blade. But my doppelganger's claims verified my theory.

I stuttered and stumbled over my words, trying to form a coherent thought in light of the revelation.

All I could manage was, "I need a drink. Care for one as well?"

"Sure."

I stood up, slow and awkward, and made my way to the cupboard. The assassin's eyes followed my every step, no doubt wary that I would slip something into her glass. I opened one of the cupboard doors, and produced two small glass tumblers and a bottle of dwarven whiskey. With a deep breath, I shut the door and turned towards the table. I took my seat and uncapped the bottle, pouring the two glasses and sliding one across towards my guest.

"Three-Headed Hydra," I said nonchalantly.

A small smile crossed her face. "Thanks," she said softly.

"C.P. 1695," I offered casually.

The woman nodded. "The perfect age."

The two of us downed our drinks, slammed the empty glasses onto the wooden table, and let out the same satisfied sigh. And that's when we both knew.

We looked at each other, wide-eyed with the revelation, as it was apparent it had crossed her mind as well. She must've taken the offered drink to test her own theory.

Our mouths opened to say something just as we were enveloped with a blinding white light.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

I was falling. All around me, a psychotic swirl of colors rushed past me. It was incredibly bright. I closed my eyes. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. A deafening, droning buzz filled my head as my body tumbled through the air. I felt as if I was being pulled in every direction at the same time, and thought very briefly that my body could be torn to pieces by whatever was happening. For the first time in a long time, I was afraid.

It seemed like forever, but it was also over in a flash.

Another burst of bright white light, and then fade to black.

I fell some more, and then came to a sudden stop. The buzzing was quickly replaced by the steady hum of machinery. I opened my eyes, and found myself standing in an unfamiliar place. I was deep within a vast artificer's workshop, that much was certain. Beautiful, intricate machines made of steel and brass, iron and copper surrounded me, filling every nook and cranny of the expansive concrete dome. I felt a rare, honest-to-goodness smile cross my lips as I took in the sights; mechanical birds flying in circles near the ceiling, little automated men walking around in stilted steps, chirping at one another in a language of steam hisses and metallic scrapes that were music to my ears.

It was beautiful.

But... Where was I? ...Perhaps I had been transported to Alerar? No--that wasn't likely. My experience falling had been exactly like what the Madisassin had described her dream to be. I immediately felt my liquor rising from my stomach--oh gods

I fell to my brair-knit hands and knees, and promptly threw up. The stench of bile and booze filled my nostrils, prompting me to hurl again.

Over the cacophony of copper clattering, an all-too-familiar voice chimed in. "Oh dear, our guests seem to have made a mess already. Trevor, be a dear and clean that up, will you?"

"Yes ma'am," a metallic voice responded. Heavy metal footsteps clanged across the stone floor, their owner taking care not to trip over the innumerable cables and spare parts that choked its path. The mechanical creation stopped next to me, stooping down as I stood back up. It produced a sponge and a bucket of water and began cleaning up my mess. I marveled at the creation as it went about its work. The impeccable construction of the metallic limbs, the whir of the clockwork machinery inside the chassis, the fluidity of its motions...

"Do you like it," the familiar voice asked, her voice bemused. I wiped the remnants of the puke off my face with my nightgown sleeve before looking towards its source. The woman stood on a raised platform, tools in hand and nose buried within the body of another automation. She set down her gear and slid her protective goggles up onto her forehead with a metal-plated hand. One only had to take a glance at her piercing blue eyes and pitch black hair to see that she was another doppelganger of mine. What in the seven hells is going on here...

"Yes," I said after a brief pause. This was a little too much for me to take in. I should be angry. I should be livid. I should be throwing punches and melting faces in rage that I was attacked by myself and then unceremoniously ripped through what was probably some dimensional portal and dropped in front of another me, when all I should be experiencing is a solid eight hours of beauty sleep. But I was too friggin' tired to be upset, and without my wits and gear about me, I was also in no shape to do anything but go with the flow.

The Assassin Madison--Madisassin, we'll say--dusted herself off and pushed a few cables away from her with the toe of her boots. "And just who are you," she asked, already knowing the answer anyway.

The Artificer smiled and took a few steps away from her project, wiping her metallic hands clean on a rag that hung lazily from her dirty lab coat's front pocket. "Why, I'm you, of course. And you, as well." She looked at me for a brief moment and held a hand out in my direction. "But I suspect that the two of you already figured that out, with as smart as we all are, yeah?"

"Why the fuck are we here, then? What's your game?" The leather-clad lady's fingers twitched, wanting terribly to reach for her knives and continue the conversation in a language that best suited her.

"Don't even think about it," the Artificer replied, her tone going as cold as the metal she worked with on a daily basis. She must've sensed Madisassin's desire to get answers through violence.

That dark smile I wore myself all too often crept across the killer's face. "Is that a threat?"

I held out a briar-knit hand, motioning for the woman next to me to settle down. "Now's not the best time--"

"Oh shut up!" Madisassin turned her anger in my direction. "Do you have any idea all the shit I've been through in the past week or so? Ripped from... from my own world? While on an important mission? Given orders to go kill myself, and then forcibly torn from that dimension too? I want some fucking answers, and I want them now!" Her hands moved to the small of her back and drew out her twin prevalida daggers.

"Trevor, please..." The Artificer's command had barely left her lips when the automated man was upon the assassin, the barrel of a gun sprouting from the palm of his hand, placed mere inches from Madisassin's sweating forehead. My most violent self stood motionless, her knuckles white as she gripped the hilts of her weapons. Behind my most intelligent self, a door opened. A fourth me emerged from the candlelit hallway, four glass tumblers in one hand and a bottle of C.P. 1695 Three-Headed Hydra in the other. She was smartly dressed, wearing an all-black ensemble that consisted of a pair of dress slacks, a long-sleeved button-up shirt, and a vest and tie combo. Around her neck hung the porcelain mask of the Bookwyrm--hers just a smidge different in design than my own that I wore years ago when I was a black market book dealer.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," she said flatly as she set down the bottle and glasses on a nearby table.

The three of us looked at one another. I lowered my hand and withdrew the unseen vines that I had begun to sprout on my arms, hidden as they were by my nightgown sleeves. Madisassin sheathed her knives, and the mechanical Trevor retracted the barrel of his hand gun.

Insufferable bitch, the three of us thought at the same time.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

"While you're all here, I won't spare you any hospitality," the Artificer said after the four of us had settled down and gotten a few drinks in our systems. "But I will spare you the majority of the exposition. As you all may have guessed by now, we're all one in the same--the Madison Freebird; just the Madison Freebird from your own particular universes."

"And you just plucked us away from them with your machines, using Kazarui's Multiverse Theory, right?" Bookwyrm Madison poured herself another shot of whiskey and eyed her scientific self inquisitively.

She scratched the back of her neck and gave one of those looks that said that she was a bit embarrassed. "Well, no it wasn't Kazarui's research that allowed me to summon you all here... I had some help from a special somebody." She shot me a knowing glance.

A chill went down my spine. "Who," I asked--almost demanded, actually.

"In due time, in due time," the Artificer replied. I grabbed the bottle of Three-Headed Hydra from the middle of the table and poured myself another drink. With the telling look that the metal-limbed Madison had given me, a few names sprung to mind. I would need a little bit more of a buzz if I was going to be in any condition to deal with any of them.

"Not all of us have time to waste playing this little game of yours," growled Madisassin as she lazily swirled around her half-empty tumbler. I could see the smoldering impatience in her eyes, her pride still wounded from getting clocked by me in my apartment and then having the automated Trevor jam the barrel of a gun against her forehead before she could unsheathe her daggers.

The Artificer smiled coolly. "Funny, Grandmaster, I thought you had all the time in the world to spare, sitting on your flat ass at the Pagoda, waiting for the next challenger to your silly little title." The killer narrowed her steely blue gaze, her upper lip curling into a telltale snarl.

"At least I don't waste my life playing with toys and twiddling knobs, you miserable wretch."

Our host stood up from the table and raised a finger in warning. "I will have you know that these aren't toys--"

"Alright, that's enough!" The Bookwyrm and I interjected at the same. It was comforting to know that I wasn't the only rational one here, just waiting to see how things were going to play themselves out. The other two Madisons looked at us, and then returned to their drinks.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Something the Artificer said had caught my attention. I turned to Madisassin. "So. Grandmaster?"

"Yes."

"Of the Dajas Pagoda?"

She nodded, taking a sip of her whiskey. "I beat Joshua Cronen handily, and then climbed the ranks by defeating Elijah Belov and Teric Barton. I've held the title of Grandmaster for about... a year and a half now, I think." I nodded solemnly. It was good to know that I had at least accomplished something in my time in Scara Brae, even if it was in an alternate universe.

And then, I got to wondering about the others. I turned to Bookwyrm Madison. "And what about you?"

She arched an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

"How's the, uh, book business?" Roughly a year ago, before my bookstore had been burned down by my vengeful family, I had started a small operation buying and selling books on the black market. My clientele were generally the types of people who really shouldn't have gotten their hands on the tomes, if you catch my drift. But that was all lost in the blaze, of course.

"Yeah, it's going alright, I guess. I've had a couple run-ins with some other merchants, a few members of The Company as well... But like all problems, they can be... solved, I guess you can say." She pursed her lips in an attempt to both smile and say "oh well" at the same time. It was then that I noticed that her right eye was actually made of glass, and there were small scars around her eyelids. Run-ins indeed. But I understood well enough that sometimes there's a price to pay to conduct business.

"As for myself," the Artificer spoke up, assuming that I was going to ask her about her own past, "I was very much like you and the Bookwyrm. And much like you, Briarheart, mommy dearest tore down everything we had worked so hard to build. And very much like you, I got in touch with a special someone to help us live our childhood dreams, because we felt that we had nothing else to live for. There were... other alternate universe Madisons who followed similar paths, but rather than find a reason to continue on, they fell into darkness. Drugs, suicide, you get the picture." She dismissively waved a metallic hand. "Kind of useless for our purposes, yeah?"

I shook my head. "I don't even know what our purposes are."

"Oh, but you will," a fifth voice rang out over the automated clatter of the workshop.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

I looked up from my assembled duplicates to see a figure leaning against the laboratory doorway, arms crossed in front of his chest.

He was a devilishly handsome man dressed in an perfectly-pressed three piece business suit that appeared to be darker than the midnight sky. His skin, what little of it showed, was nearly as white as a fresh sheet of paper. His hair was as yellow as the midday sun, and combed over perfectly so not a single strand was out of place. His thin lips were curled into a smug grin.

He was the demon Maladim Karunungan, the Keeper of Knowledge.

I felt my blood both suddenly chill and begin to boil at the same time. "Son of a bitch," I muttered.

"Spawn of a bitch, but I appreciate the sentiment nonetheless." His voice was as sweet and dismissive as I remembered. "It's good to see you again as well, Maddy dear." Maladim stepped out of the doorway and approached the table, paying no mind to the labyrinth of scrap metal, tools, and cables that cluttered the Artificer's playground. I felt my briar-knit fists clenching out of instinct. This was the asshole who tore away the majority of my memories of my time as an assassin as well as my right arm, only to replace it with knowledge of the sciences and artificing that for the life of me I cannot recall now. And now that he was conveniently in my presence, I wanted to know why. I had given up everything I had in Corone for his services, and they had mysteriously been taken away from me.

"I wish I could say the same," I replied, my voice cold. "What did you do with the knowledge you gave me?"

"I'm sorry?" He cocked an eyebrow inquisitively, but the smile didn't fade.

"The artificing. The alchemy. It's all gone. Why is it gone, Maladim?"

He stopped behind the Artificer Madison, calmly setting his leather gloved hands on her shoulders. "Ah. Yes. An unfortunate bit of business, that was. I heard whispers that you had suffered a pretty nasty accident while you were in Eiskalt, playing with rats in your little cabin while your friends with The Order of the Crimson Hand were getting themselves slaughtered at the hands of the Ixian Knights. Then something about a few of the more feral mountain natives finding your broken body and then turning you into one of their silly little Briarheart things. So it's probably just a bit of trauma-induced memory loss. That's the fates for you, y'know?"

I put my clenched fists onto the table and leaned forward. "I want it back. I had so much to accomplish--"

"You'll get it back in due time. Have a seat."

"I want it back NOW."

In a flash, Maladim's eyes were glowing blue, his demonic energy pouring out onto his face with blue lightning bolts that etched themselves across his temples. His perfectly-combed hair stood spiked on end. He let go of the artificer's shoulders, and his hands grew into dark claws that, even with gloves on, looked like they were perfectly capable of shredding someone's soul inside their body. "I said sit down," he roared.

I sat.

Slowly, the Keeper of Knowledge returned to looking like the perfect gentleman that he had entered the laboratory as. "Thank you, Maddy dear. You're in no position to be demanding anything from me. When you realize that, you'll be better off. Now," he clapped his hands together, "where were we? Ah yes, introductions."

I looked at Madisassin and Bookwyrm Madison. Both ladies were on the edge of their seats, ready to bolt at a moment's notice. Maladim's outburst had scared everyone but the Artificer.

Maladim nodded at me and laid his hands back on the Artificer's shoulders. "Seeing as we're already acquainted, Madison and Madison... Madison, Madison," he addressed the assassin and book dealer respectively, "I am Maladim Karunungan, the Keeper of Knowledge. I suspect that you at least have heard my name once or twice in passing, correct?" The demon cast and inquisitive glance at Bookwyrm. She nodded, adding that she had indeed seen his name in a couple tomes that had passed through her hands at one point.

"Wait," I interrupted, pointing a finger at the woman who decided not to travel to Eiskalt in her own universe. "You know him already?"

"Of course," she answered matter-of-factly. "Who else do you think granted me the knowledge required to bring the three of you here?"

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Madisassin's eyes were transfixed on the ice cubes clinking around in her drink as she swirled it around. "That still leaves us with the question as to why you brought us here. Can we just skip the chit-chat and get on with it?"

All eyes in the room were on her. "Well, I see that someone's a bit more impatient than the rest of her incarnations," the demon spoke. With a clap of his gloved hands, he continued, "Very well then, let's cut to the chase."

With a snap of his fingers, a stool underneath one of the nearby workbenches emitted a blueish glow, picked itself up off the stone floor, and floated over to the table where we were gathered. It settled down at Maladim's feet, and the Keeper of Knowledge sat himself down. "Now, ladies, since only two of you know who I am and what it is I do, I need to give the thug and the bookie a quick crash course before we can continue. I am your stock standard otherworldly force. A demon, a hellspawn, a fiend, or whatever other silly words that have been created to describe my kind. You know how demons generally have tasks--that one thing that they are really, really good at? The thing that makes their name known to those in worldly planes such as the ones you lot are from? That thing that they are stuck their entire eternal lives doing or being associated with?"

Bookwyrm nodded, Madisassin just sort of stared, Artificer Madison's stupid beaming smile stayed plastered on her face, and I just sat there in my wrinkled, slightly pink nightgown, slightly irritated and wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep.

"Well," Maladim continued, "as it turns out, my task is knowledge. For all of eternity, it is my sworn duty to collect and redistribute knowledge throughout all existence. Secrets, ideas, breakthroughs, research... If it has been thought up, uttered, transcribed, chanted, or what have you, it's passed through my realm. I decide who is worthy to know what and when, then pass that knowledge along to them--be it naturally, or..." His gaze met mine for a brief second. "...or through a bargain." I felt a twinge in my right shoulder where the demon had torn my arm off my body during our last meeting.

The Madison in the dirty lab coat chimed in, "For example, Maladim approached me and granted me the bits and pieces about multiverse theory and portal technology required to summon you all here without creating a paradox that probably would've taken out a couple dimensions in the process!"

The leather-clad one, unimpressed with the other's cheery attitude, simply replied, "That's nice. Want a cookie?" With that remark, the smile finally disappeared from the Artificer's face.

I decided to bring the conversation back on track, before those two could get a chance to kill each other and fuck up some dimensional timelines or something. "But what does all this have to do with the four of us?"

Maladim grabbed the bottle of Three-Headed Hydra from the middle of the table and helped himself to a swig or two. "Unfortunately for me--fortunately for the countless civilizations and such throughout the total combined multiverse, of course--there's just sometimes too much information to gather and pass along. I have helpers on every world, who gather the little bits and pieces that I happen to overlook, and process them for me in a matter that they see fit, that way the chain is never broken. It's a long, arduous process to be sure, but it has to be done."

The demon set the bottle back down on the table, and then crossed his arms and leaned forward. "The thing is, I've recently had an employment opportunity pop up in your particular universe, 'Briarheart'."

I felt a couple of knots form in my stomach. I didn't like where this was going. I turned my head to the side slightly. "Has one?" My voice had a slightly confused tone to it; whether or not I was serious or trying to play for time was beyond me.

Maladim nodded solemnly. "Yes. One of my agents was in Eiskalt during the recent war. He sadly succumbed to a nasty illness while gathering information on the events unfolding."

Those knots had now tied themselves up into even bigger knots. I took in a sharp breath, and felt my blood turning cold.

"Now," the Keeper of Knowledge continued, "I'm not going to blame you outright. Yes, it was the disease you helped spread that took him. The guy was pretty good at his job, but he was also a bit on the flakey side. So it's no real big loss. But still... There's a job, and it has to be done."

I searched for the words to say that would give me a chance to get out of the obvious endgame Maladim had planned. Instead, I ended up blathering out the perfect segue for him into his pitch. "So, you're saying..."

"Yes, Madison, of course." The dapper demon smiled. "I would like for you to take his place as my Archivist."

The room fell silent. Even the mechanical whirs and pangs from the dozens of machines that littered the workshop seemed to quiet down in that moment.

My jaw dropped. "I--I couldn't," was all I was able to say. "There's no possible way... Not in my... my condition!" I waved my vine-braided hands in front of him. "You obviously know what sort of hell I unleashed in Eiskalt! What use am I to you as your subject like this?"

It was a futile attempt of escape. "You see, Madison, that's ultimately why I've gathered the four of you here." Maladim stood from his spot at the table and slid his leather gloves off his hands and into his suit coat pocket. His hands were pale and decorated with the same glowing blue lightning arcs that appeared on his face when he showed us a glimpse of his real demonic form.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

"You see," the demon continued, "as individuals the four of you are a little lacking. Anger issues, commitment problems, lack of direction and focus, introversion, the list goes on and on. But if I could rip all of the positive qualities out of you..." Maladim clenched his right fist, thought about it for a second, and then loosened his death grip on the air in front of him. "No, rip isn't the right word. Let's go with... Fuse. If I could fuse the best parts of each of you together into a sort of Mega Madison... Then I believe I will have the perfect candidate for my new archivist." He threw his hands out in a grand gesture, smiling like a master merchant about to make a fantastic deal. "So, what do you say?"

Predictably, Madisassin was the first one to speak. "This is the most ridiculous thing I've heard in a long time. I mean, seriously! Keeper of Knowledge? Multiple universes? This is all just a really bad dream. Either that, or someone must've spiked my drink and I'm suffering some sort of hallucination. Right?" The killer looked at each of us in turn, looking to get some backup but finding none.

Maladim sighed. "Look, I just wanted to give you the illusion of choice. You really don't have a say in the matter. Your fate was sealed the moment she indirectly killed my other Archivist." He pointed a blue bolt-striped finger in my direction. The other Madisons looked at me, and suddenly, in that very moment, I felt incredibly small.

The leather-clad killer stood from her spot and reached behind her for the daggers she kept strapped to her belts. "Like hell it was." With an incredible cry, she leaped onto the table, tearing out her toys from their leather sheathes, ready to slice the demon to bloody shreds. Maladim feigned interest. With a snap of his fingers, a blue explosion erupted in front of us. The Bookwyrm, the Artificer, and I were knocked backwards in our chairs. The Assassin was sent sprawling halfway across the laboratory, her body crashing into piles of cables and spare parts from in-progress experiments.

My body was wracked with pain. My ears were ringing from the aftermath of the brilliant spell. As I struggled to climb to my knees, I saw Madisassin enveloped in a blue glow. Her body was lifted from the piles of metal on the floor and floated in the air back towards where the rest of us were.

The Keeper's eyes glowed the same bright shade of blue. "The only reason I don't obliterate you right now, Madison Freebird, Grandmaster of Piss-All, is because I desire your combat and stealth prowess. That, and you're as tough as nails. That's necessary for my needs."

The woman whimpered in pain as she continued to levitate in the air before us. Maladim glanced over to Bookworm. "You've been pretty quiet. Do you have anything you'd like to say?"

Not seeing any other viable course of action that wouldn't end in a similar way, she simply shrugged. "What would be the point?"

The demon smiled. "Smart girl. How about you, Artificer?"

The Madison dressed in the gear of a tinkerer suddenly snapped to attention. "Wait--what? Me? No... But... You promised that--! No!"

"But, you see, you pledged your life to me the moment I granted you knowledge. None of this would've been possible for you had it not been for me. I simply require one final thing from you."

"F-final?!" the Artificer stuttered, a look of abject fear creeping across her wide-eyed face. "You plan to kill me?"

"It's an unfortunate side-effect of the process, yes. But it's for the greater good."

She took a single step away. It would be her last. "No--NO! You cannot do this to me! I agreed to summon them here, but nothing more! I have so much left to accomplish with my research--my life! You cannot have it!"

In a single motion, she threw off her lab coat, revealing that both of her arms had been severed at the shoulders and had been replaced with cybernetic limbs. With a desperate howl, she raised her hands in front of her. the palms of her hands opened to reveal the glowing barrels of what appeared to be energy guns. A bright light began emitting from them, and the whine of her intricate machinery became intense as she prepared to fire upon the demon.

He raised a single hand in turn, and shot out a blue energy blast that connected with the Artificer's left hand, shredding it completely. The mechanical Madison spun around, crying out in pain as shrapnel sliced open her face in multiple places. Soon, she too was enveloped in blue light and levitating before the table. Maladim slowly turned towards me. "And what about you?"

Bookwyrm and I exchanged emotionless glances. It was clear that she had already made her peace, and was ready to go. I faced Maladim one final time. I thought one last time about my family and their treachery. I thought about all the crazy shit that happened to me over the course of my twenty-eight years--of my time in the Dajas Pagoda, of my own time as The Bookwyrm, all of the plans that I once had but were cast aside, of my dedication to the Order of the Crimson Hand, the war on Eiskalt, the many enemies and few friends I had made along the way... And how unhappy I was with all of it. I was ready to die.

I took a deep breath. "Sure, whatever, let's get this over with."

Maladim Karunungan, the Keeper of Knowledge, smiled. "Oh no. For you, it is only the beginning."

A brilliant energy coursed through my body, forcing me to stiffen as I stood in the laboratory. My vision went white. I could not hear the screams of the other Madisons over my own.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

I heard only muffled cries at first. Eventually, I recognized them as my own name.

"Madison... Madison..."

But... whose voice was that?

"Madison... Madison!"

I hurt all over. Like, seriously, every single muscle ached. My head felt like it was going to explode.

"Madison..." It was Nell, my assistant. "I found some glasses and whiskey on the kitchen table. Are you hungover? Do you want me to get breakfast ready?"

I may or may not have managed to mumble out a response.

"I'll get some eggs, toast, and apple juice ready for you, then." Nell's plodding back down the hallway sounded like cannon fire.

I struggled to roll out of bed. It took minutes--it felt like hours. I have never been in so much pain in my entire life.

Did I drink last night? I don't remember. I remember... things. I remember shapes and sounds and lights and colors, but I can't put them together into coherent memories.

I stumbled my way over to the dresser, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes on my nightgown sleeve. Slowly, my eyes opened. I saw myself in the mirror--and promptly froze.

My arms. They were... human again.

I looked down in shock at my hands, turning them over multiple times to make sure I was seeing things correctly. They were proper flesh, muscle and bone, rather than briar-knit approximations like they were last night. I nearly screamed, but to be honest I was in too much shock. What... What happened to me?!

Minutes later, I noticed a thick, leatherbound notebook, three fountain pens carved out of bone, and four vials of black ink were neatly arranged on my desk. There was also a sealed letter.

My mind still foggy from the night's rest. I fumbled around with the letter for a bit before opening it. I read the contents once, twice, five times.

Ms. Freebird,

Apologies for pulling you into this mess so suddenly and so strangely. I would've approached you more directly, but I was forced to move my hand before other forces could steer you down a darker path. As much as I am sure you were happy causing death and destruction in Eiskalt and had big plans for the rest of the world, I feel that your particular talents--and those of your other selves--are put to better use elsewhere.

You will find that this notebook will never run out of paper, nor will the ink fade from its pages. Your pens will never run dry, nor will you find your vials empty of ink. These implements have other mystical properties befitting of someone in my employ, but you will discover them in due time.

If you have any questions about your duties, simply write them in your notebook, and I will respond.

Welcome aboard, Archivist.

Sincerely,

M.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Spoils requested:

The Archivist's Notebook
- And indestructible 192-page leather bound notebook (http://www.getmewriting.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/Aspinal-notebook-300x216.png) that is kept shut with a flap and strap. The pages can be torn from the notebook, but will then become ordinary pieces of paper. Torn pages regenerate overnight.
- Anything that is written in the notebook with be absorbed by the artifact, disappearing from its pages and stored in an ethereal archive tied to the book spiritually upon Madison's command. Madison can recall anything written in the notebook by simply opening it to a blank page and requesting the information through a telepathic link established through her ascension as Archivist.

Bone Pens (3)
- Fountain pens crafted from the strong bones of an unidentified animal
- Nothing out of the ordinary here, except they will be capable of writing in any condition or environment.

Maladim's Ink Vials (4)
- Four unbreakable small glass vials with rubber stoppers.
- Despite being a quarter of the size of Madison's fist, each vial is capable of storing ten gallons of ink through enchantments.
- Each vial's ink supply will be restored at the end of each day or battle.

[Quentin Boone]

BlackAndBlueEyes receives:

1294 EXP
All requested spoils


Congratulations!

Spoils are awarded based on them having no combat functionality. If this is to change, please upgrade the items in the Bazaar.

Please reference this post where appropriate for evidence of spoils award.

[Alyssa Snow]

EXP Added!

Congrats on the spoils!