Acheron's Irregulars, Part 4

If one were to travel away from Rigus, they would - depending on the direction - eventually come across a Portal Town called Automata, which sits atop of the border to the lawful plane known as Mechanus. Unless you happen to be interested in gears and other mechanical things, Automata and its neighboring plane are awfully boring places to be.

If you were to continue along your travels after arriving in Automata, you would eventually come to a pleasant farming village called Fortitude that borders the plane known as Arcadia. You might happen to note just how similar Fortitude is to Rigus, with the possible exception that it's no where near as rocky and uninhabitable. You might also note that it doesn't border the plane of tyranny and strife.

Arcadia itself consists of vividly lush farmlands that stretch out as far as the eye can see, separated by orderly orchards of carefully pruned fruit-trees of every type. It is a place where virtue brings profit and hard work is always rewarded. With its ripe fields of wheat floating atop of layers of chiseled rock, it is the ultimate summation of the phrase 'You get what you put in'.

However, the careful eye may notice that there is something out of place about the plane dedicated to peaceful rulers and gentle obedience. To be a little more specific, something's missing. To be precise, the entire third layer is missing.

There's a funny story behind that.

Although Arcadia is a place of law, the law does not exist for its own sake. Instead, the law serves a purpose - to allow those who follow it to serve the greater good. Sometimes this is easy to forget.

Menausus - the name of the now-missing third layer - served as home for the League of Agricultural Surveyors, a union of like-minded farmers who worked together to benefit all of Arcadia. They accepted rules amongst themselves to limit competition and meet their quotas as a whole instead of as individuals. Over the years, their membership grew to include the majority of Menausus. They enforced their regulations upon one another with an almost dangerous fervor, and non-members who inhabited Menausus were often socially ostracized by the majority of farmers who were members of the union.

Things steadily got worse. Some farmers liked to grow extra crops on the side, but the League of Agricultural Surveyors would strictly forbid any non-regulation planting and harvesting. Deciding that the League were being a bunch of brats, some members grew the extra crops anyway.

The League put the extra fields to the torch.

Things got out of hand. The League began destroying the farmlands of anyone who did not abide by every single one of their rules, whether they were a member or not. The list of their regulations, once simple and direct, became a long and tiresome puzzle of bureaucratic nonsense. Their meetings, previously short and succinct, now sometimes lasted an entire week.

The boiling point was reached when a new chapter house for the League opened up on Buxenos, Arcadia's second layer. The next day, the entire layer of Menausus had simply disappeared.

Perhaps by a strange coincidence, a new continent-sized gear covered in farmland and filled with bureaucratic busy-bodies appeared in the depths of Mechanus, where the law was always more important than the greater good.

Belief can quite literally shape the fabric of the Multiverse. If enough people believe that law is more important than good, then the land will change to reflect this belief. If enough people believe that you're a hero, then you might wake up and find that's just what you are.

-------------

It was in one of Rigus' unplanted fields where its sun-baked denizens practiced the art of war.

Benjamin and Jerald (who currently was in the form of an unsociable looking brute in leather) watched with quiet surprise as Jerum demonstrated the quickest method to incapacitate and kill an enemy.

"Hesitation and fear are what will cripple you," Jerum explained, the length of a dazzling bright iron blade held by its leather-wrapped haft. With a twist, he brought one of the two business ends chopping across the scare-crow to his left, snapping it across the front of the torso and leaving a ragged tear across its front. "When you're facing an enemy, it's better to do something wrong then to do nothing at all.""He's pretty sharp with the blade," Jerald muttered, lifting the glass of water from the table besides his chair.

"Yeah," Ben responded absently.

"Where did he say he was from, Ben?""It's Rin," Ben corrected him without even thinking. "An old acting troupe. Ran into some bad luck, from what he told me, so he had to find himself a new troupe. Him and Marien, that is.""Mmmm..." Jerald finished the glass of water, turning it upside down. "Another glass, if you will.""Right away, sir Jerald!" Rumour chirped, snatching up the discarded container and running off back into the tavern to retrieve another.Ben stretched across the chair, seated on the patio of the tavern. "So, Jerald. What do you think?""I think he takes his role a little too seriously," Jerald responded with his usual effortless nonchalance. He shot a glance towards the lightly dressed boy, who was now demonstrating to several dozen villagers how to quickly gut a fallen opponent. "Though I'll admit he's not a half-bad actor. Just a little rough around the edges.""I was talking about our situation."

"Oh, that." Jerald shrugged. "We're in a bit deep. The job's cushy, certainly... Ah, thank you, boy," Jerald smiled at Rumour as the child ran out with a fresh glass of slightly-yellowish water. Jerald peered at it, sighed, and proceeded to throw it back with another gulp. "But there are a few dangers. And a lot of variables."

"Yeah... Uh, is it safe to talk about this in front of him?" Ben asked, looking towards Rumour. The boy, suddenly finding himself drawing the attention of Rin, broke out into a wide cheerful smile.

"Ah, don't worry," Jerald said, smiling. He brought a large hand down upon Rumour's head, ruffling the boy's hair with his broad fingers. "The boy's an ignoramus.""What's an ignoramus?" Rumour asked curiously. Jerald's smile only grew wider."Go ask your mother, my dear child," He replied.Rumour immediately ran off to do just that. Watching the boy go, Ben sighed and shook his head. "You're a jerk.""Quite. But more importantly, we should at least earn our keep. We're here to raise the morale of the village, yes? Not that I'm one to complain about an opportunity to do nothing, but maybe we should seize upon the chance a truly captive audience brings," Jerald explained smoothly, turning his gaze towards the sight of Jerum leading several men to battle against the treacherous race of motionless scare-crows.

"What are you talking about?" Ben asked, eyebrows raising.Jerald smiled. "Let's put on a play.""Do you have something in mind?"Jerald nodded. "Something," He began whimsically, glancing up to the sky. "With a happy ending."

-------------"Is that a real tail?"The question came from a child. A little girl, Jaer dimly realized. A little girl who was following the tiefling through the street, her dark serious eyes locked upon the appendage that had slipped of its own accord out from the back of her shirt.

"Yeah," Jaer muttered, "It is. What of it?""Why do you have a tail?" Fact asked.

"None of your beeswax, kid," Jaer responded automatically. She turned back to look at her destination - the tavern, only ten or so yards off. Beyond it, she could hear the sounds of men practicing the art of warfare. Instantly, she thought of Jerum, and stifled a grimace.

"But I've never seen anyone who has a tail," Fact began, frowning. "I just want to know why you have one."Jaer peered over her shoulder. The girl was still doggedly following her. "I was born with it, all right? So pike off.""Born with it? So your father had a tail?" Fact continued."Hell's bells!" Jaer spun around, locking a glare on Fact that could wither daisies at thirty paces. The girl simply stared back with a fearless sort of curiosity. "Why do you ask so many clueless questions?!""Because I like to learn about things," The girl responded. "What's a kip?"

"Don't you have something better to do? Like, prepare for war, or something?" Jaer asked, continuing to glower."They're not letting the girls do anything. They don't want us fighting or using any of the swords or anything, and we can't help in the forges." Fact admitted, glancing down. "Some of the boys my age are going to be armed, but they say I can't."Jaer snarled, twirling about with her tail lashing about agitatedly. "Bloody figures! Men are idiots. They're always marching around, declaring war on something or other, and when they get themselves so deep in that they can't get out they tell you that you can't help them just because you got a pair of breasts! It's so bloody hypocritical!" She began a steady march towards the bar, but her eyes were staring past it towards the field where Jerum was practicing.

Emboldened by Jaer's sudden shift from being angry at her to being angry at men, Fact began to march right besides her. "And they're always goofing off, too! And telling me what to do!""Always running off to fight some stupid battle in the name of vengeance or whatever and getting themselves killed," Jaer continued, glowering forward.

Fact desperately searched for something else to add. "And... and they smell real bad, too!"

Jaer suddenly stopped walking, peering down at Fact. Feeling suddenly silly and self-conscious, the girl shuffled uncomfortably underneath the gaze."I have a tail because of my mother," Jaer explained half-heartedly. "She was an erinyes... A type of demon.""Your mother was a demon?" Fact asked, blinking up towards the tiefling with a look bordering on fascination.

Sighing in reluctant surrender, Jaer smiled. "Yeah. I'll tell you about it on one condition.""What's that?""You pour me whatever the hell passes as bub in that kip over there," Jaer said, pointing at the tavern.

"Sure!" Fact chirped, beginning to move towards the entrance. Half-way there, she stopped and turned around. "Uh, what's bub?"

-------------

Everyone was having a fairly good time except one person. In case you haven't guessed it, that one person was a githzerai named Marien.

Marien wasn't having a good time because Marien could see the future. Oh, no one believed her, of course. That was part of the deal. The one person in the world who knew what was coming next was the one person in the world who's advice you'd never take. Like we said: Fate is an exceptionally mean-spirited bitch.

Over time, it got to be very depressing. Which was one of the primary reasons why Marien was never happy.

However, this specific occasion gave her reason to be very unhappy. Because she had just received a Vision. A Vision of Things To Come.

As always, it didn't look very good. And just like usual, no one was going to believe her when she told them about it.

She had seen the Fallen One with his comrades come to the village, and witnessed all his bluster come to no avail. She had seen him fall at the hands of the village's protectors, and victory come to Rigus. And then she had seen the Bargain undone, and the Beast unchained, and His fury moved to swallow up everyone and everything before Him.

But the most puzzling part of her vision was the champion who rose up to face the Beast in the village's final hours. It had been an old man wearing a crumpled hat, wielding what looked to be an old-fashioned wooden billet.

"Marien!" Ben's voice came from the distance. The older man was running back towards the dwindling fires of the actor's camp. The githzerai stirred from her bedroll, sitting up and rubbing her large eyes. "Marien! Jerald just had an absolutely wonderful idea!"

"Something terrible is coming our way," Marien gloomily muttered as Ben approached."Oh quit being so glum," Ben cut her off with a grin. "Listen: We're going to do a play! One of the ones with a happy ending!""At least something will end well," Marien mused.