Crazy Mo Faux

[StuffedKiwi]

Hi everyone,
Our local group organized a campaign over November/December of last year, and added a narrative element by tying together the games into an ongoing story. (The original posting for the campaign, with the first chapter, is here: http://wyrd-games.net/community/topic/103307-crazy-mo-faux-league-over-october-november-in-wellington-nz/). We had a great time with the campaign, and the story turned out pretty well, so I thought I'd share it here with y'all. It's pretty long, so I'll post each chapter separately (five total).
Enjoy.

[Edited for formatting.]
 

Crazy Mo Faux and The Danse Macabre.

A Campaign-story for Malifaux.

With appropriate gratitude and apologies to George Clinton, to Wovoka/Jack Wilson, and to the Brothers Grimm.

 

The nervous shuffle of the guard's feet as he scuffed them back and forth echoed through the mostly dark and mostly empty chamber. Realizing what he was doing, he tried to stand still and straight, but the nerves remained. He'd never been required to speak before as important an audience as this.

 

Lucius Mattheson, the Governor's Secretary, Lady Justice, Head of the Guild Marshals, and Sonnia Criid, Witch Hunter General, all looked out from the shadows at the guard, with varying degrees of sympathy and impatience. Finally, it was Lucius, the Governor's Secretary, who spoke.

 

'Come, man, report. Tell us the story you have been sent here to tell, and you can go back to your barracks.'

 

'Yes sir,' the guard nodded. 'Well, sir, it's about this Gremlin, down in the bayou. Mo, is his name sir. Crazy Mo, they call him. Something a bit odd about him. He's developing a following, sir. Could be dangerous. So the Cap'n sent me up here to tell y'all about it.'

 

Another silence. This time it was Justice who broke it. 'Why do the Gremlins follow him? Is he bigger and stronger than, what's his name, that one with the hat? Or has he distilled some especially noxious brew for his followers?'

 

'No ma'am. At least, not that I know of. Though certainly there's plenty of drinking, and there does seem to be a lot o' that smoke that the Gremlins use to keep away witches, the loco-weed. But no, Crazy Mo isn't that big or strong, and it's not the drink that keeps the Gremlins with him. It's the … well, to be honest ma'am, I think it's the … music. The music and the dancing, ma'am.' The guard looked distinctly uncomfortable.

 

'Dancing? And music?' This from Sonnia. 'That's not normal. You said there's something a bit odd about him. Anything in particular? This music might be some new form of magic, perhaps?'

 

'Perhaps so, ma'am, though I couldn't really speak to that. But yes, something is odd about Mo, ma'am, definitely. There are all sorts o' crazy stories about him, down in the bayou, but a lot o' them say one thing: that Mo does not know fear.'

 

There were snorts of derision from at least two of his listeners, and the guard hurried on. 'Now, I know what you're thinking, Gremlins all have a casual disregard for danger, they lack what we would think of as,' the guard paused, trying to remember the words his Captain had used, 'an appropriate awareness of the likelihood of their immanent demise. Riding pigs, letting off their crazy guns, these are all things likely to get a Gremlin killed, and all things that Gremlins don't mind doin' anyhow, things they think are worth the risk. But you drop one o' those big Nephilim, say, or a Peacekeeper, in the midst of a bunch o' Gremlins, and they'll run screaming all right. They may not fear for their lives in the way we might, but they know fear.

 

'Mo, though, so they say, don't. One o' the stories about him is that when he was still a ... what do you call a young Gremlin? When he was just a kid, anyway, he was about as useless a Gremlin as they come. His dad told him he had to learn something – pig tending, moonshine-making, farming, whatever else it is Gremlins do. And Mo said, he were real keen to learn just about any o' those, but the thing that he just didn't have any idea about, and the thing he'd really like to learn, was how to shudder. His dad sighed, and said that weren't going to be no use at all. And his dad was complainin' to a bunch o' his Gremlin mates, and they all decided to try to scare Mo. And they tried this, and they tried that, but nothing scared Mo, and he would always just sigh, and say that he sure wished he could shudder.'

 

Sonnia was leaning forward. This clearly interested her. 'He feels no fear, does he? Very interesting. I wonder if that's an effect we could replicate. I would like to have him brought in to the labs, perhaps Doctor McMourning and I could between us untangle this secret.'

 

Justice waved her words away. 'I need to hear more about this following he gathers. How many is it? How does he hold them to him? What is this … music you mentioned?'

 

The guard shuffled his feet again; clearly, something about this part of the story made him uncomfortable. 'It's odd music, ma'am. I ain't a musical man, ma'am, can't tell one end of a fiddle from t'other, but near as I can tell, this is music that's powerfully rhythmic, big pounding beats, not much interested in a melody. You hear this music, and you really want to dance.' He blushed, took a big breath, and plunged into what for him was obviously the worst bit of the story.

 

'Thing is, see, Cap'n sent me to check out Mo and his crowd. I ain't the sneakiest fella he's got, but I spent some time down that way, afore I signed up, so I knows the bayou, some. Anyways, I got pretty close to Mo's encampment. They weren't doin' much, just sittin' around drinkin' and smokin'. It were pretty rowdy, but nothin' special. And then Mo stood up, and the whole crowd just quieted down, real quick. Mo, he was holding some kind o' magic speaking stick, I think there mighta been a snake in it, 'cos it kinda hissed and spat some. Then Mo, he stood real still for a bit, and then he started noddin' his head, and tappin' his foot, and then gyratin' his hips, and he yells out, sudden-like, 'Everybody gonna get funked up!' And the crowd, they all roar, and start jumpin' and hollerin' and swayin' and … well, they called it 'groovin'. And the music, it seemed like it was comin' from outta the swamp, it was loud, this deep boomin' and thumpin', and I swear, there was some magic in it, 'cos I just couldn't stop from tappin' my feet, and … well, groovin'.'

 

The guard took a big breath, and rushed on, hoping to the get to the end quickly.

 

'Mo, he was chantin' all sorts of things into his speakin' stick, it made his voice real loud so you could hear it even over the music and the hollerin'. Something about some kind o' slop, somethin' somethin' 'cos Mick's slop, I think, whoever Mick is. I was'n' paying much mind, on account o' the magic that had got into my body, shakin' me and swayin' me an' all. And then Mo said some things that shook me so hard it shook me right out o' the spell, and I stopped, and I listened, and then I ran for it.'

 

Now it was Lucius who was interested. 'What did he say?'

 

'Well, I don't rightly recollect all of it, but here's the bits I remember. He said we were one nation under a groove; he said we're on the move and nothin' can stop us now; he said ready or not here we come. And that's about all I heard afore I hoofed it outta there. But it was makin' his crowd wild, they were all just 'bout as crazy as Mo by then. I ain't sure whether they're more likely to just keep dancin' until they drop from exhaustion, or up sticks and head out to invade Malifaux City here.'

 

The three leaders were silent for a few moments. Lucius signalled to the guard that he could leave, and the guard was so relieved that he was almost running as he left the room. Once he had gone, the three began to argue about what was best to be done. Sonnia still wanted Mo brought to her lab; Justice thought Mo and his followers needed to be rounded up and arrested, save those of course who resisted. Lucius was silent for a time, as they argued back and forth, apparently thinking to himself. Eventually his lips silently moved behind his mask, mouthing a question that neither Sonnia nor Justice could see or hear: 'Could it be … Starchild? After all these years?' Then he shook himself, and interrupted the others to insist that they could use Mo as a weapon himself, against the Guild's various enemies.

 

Some time later they rose, still arguing, and left the room to get some dinner. On his way, Lucius paused to send a message to Dr. McMourning, letting him know that a certain guard would be available for McMourning's … research, later that night. Better safe than sorry, Lucius thought. The man might be infected with something.

 

Once the room had been silent for some time, a shadow detached itself from the corner where it had been crouched, crept carefully up the wall, and silently out the window that it had come in by, some hours earlier. The shadow smiled silently to itself. It had some new information that it was sure certain elements of the city's less official power structure would pay good money to hear about. What would that mean for Mo and his followers? That wasn't the shadow's concern....

 

 

[StuffedKiwi]

Chapter Two: Mo's Story.

 

I weren' nuttin' special, growin' up. My Pa, he allus liked my older bruthers more 'n he liked me, but then, jus' 'bout ev'one liked my bruthers. Mos' folk didn' think much 'bout me 't'all, I reckon, 'cept my Pa, 'n' his thoughts tended mainly i' th' direction o' yellin' at me. He called me stoopid, he said I couldn' learn nor unnerstan' any o' the 'portant things 'bout livin' i' the Bayou, like my bruthers did. An' i's true, I guess, that I never did take to farmin' hogs, nor distillin' moonshine, nor shootin' guns, though I were plenty big 'nuff for a Gremlin. An' i's true I also guess that Eeny were a nat'ral with hogs, Meeny made some damn fine 'shine, and Miny were a mighty fine shot with Pa's boomstick.

 

But th' thing that were allus true 'bout me is that I never did know no fear. Any time Pa wanned summin' fetched, an' if it were night time, or the way to fetch it went through the graveyard or what have you, all o' my bruthers would say 'Oh no, Pa, I ain't goin' there, it makes me shudder!' Or when stories got told 'round the fire at night, sometimes my bruthers would cry out 'Oh, it makes us shudder' 'cos they was afraid. But I listened to those stories, or fetched whate'er it was Pa wanted, an' I could not imagine what they meant. So I knew that I didn' know nothin' 'bout hogs, 'bout 'shine, nor 'bout guns, and I knew I didn' know nothin' 'bout shudderin', neither.

 

So one day, Pa finally said he'd done had 'nuff o' me hangin' 'bout the hut bein' o' no use to 'im, so he said I gotta go learn summin' that I could earn my way by.

 

'Well, Pa,' I said, polite as I could, 'I'd rully like t' learn summin', truly I would. An' th' thing I'd rully like to learn how to do, see, is I'd like t' learn t' shudder. I's a thing I ain't got no clue 'bout nohow.' An' my bruthers, they laughed, an' my Pa, he sighed, an' he clipped me 'roun' the ears an' said that he were purty sure I'd learn how to shudder, but that weren' goin' to make me a livin' 't all.

 

Well, one day not too long after that, Pa was sittin' wi' some o' his friends and drinkin' some o' Meeny's mighty fine 'shine, an' he told his friends about what I had said, 'n' how I wasn' no use to 'im. An' his friends they all laughed, 'n' then one o' 'em said that he had some work for me to do, 'n' he reckoned he could make me shudder. I were sittin' in the corner, and afore my Pa could agree I leapt up an' declared I were ready, I were delighted, 'n' I rully hoped that he could make me shudder.

 

So he 'n' Pa spat on their hands 'n' shook on it 'n' it were agreed, 'n' I went back to his place. He tol' me that my job were rully simple, all I had to do was each night climb the tower o' the old ruin on the edge o' the village 'n' ring the bell in there by pullin' th' rope I'd find hangin' at the top o' the tower. Well, that didn' sound too hard, so I said sure 'nuff I'd do it.

 

Right 'bout midnight, he woke me up and sent me on my way to th' ruin. It were an' ol' wreck of a buildin,' weren' no Gremlin hut or nuthin' but I reckon mebbe somethin' them Neverborn builded back i' th' day, but now it were all fallen to bits, some rooms wi' roofs and some wi' none 'n' all that mess. So I climbed th' stairs real careful-like, on accoun' o' I didn' want to mess up the job by wreckin' the stairs afore I got to the top. But they held a'ight, 'n' I got to th' top 'n' looked 'roun' for a rope to pull. It were not so dark up there, wi' the moons shinin' in the winders, so I reckoned I'd see it purty quick. But afore I did, what I saw were a figure all in white, standin' there wi'out movin' 't all.

 

'Who's there?' I aksed, real friendly-like. But the figure it just stood there 'n' didn' say nuthin'. As I looked, I saw that the figure were standin' right in front o' th' rope I needed to get to.

 

''Scuse me,' I said, still tryin' t' be polite 'n' all, but I were a bit annoyed wi' this fella's silence. ''Scuse me,' I said, 'yer in ma way.'

 

Still the fella said nuthin, so I shrugged 'n' went to reach 'roun' him and pull the rope. I swear it were 'n' accident, 'n' that I didn' bump th' fella that hard, but howe'er it happened, the fella went tumblin' out the winder, 'n he still didn' say nothin' all the way down t' th' ground, where he made a sorta wet splat. Kinda hard t' hear, over th' ringing o' th' bells.

 

Course, as it turns out, the fella in white were my Pa's friend. I dunno whether he meant to do me a favour 'n' make me shudder, somehow, or whether he thought it'd be some kinda funny, bein' up there like that, but ain't no way to aks him now. My Pa were right angry 'bout the whole thing, an' he sent me outta the village, an' said I weren' never t' come home, and I weren' never t' tell anyone where I come from or who my Pa is, which is why I ain't tol' y'all my village's name.

 

'Yes, Pa,' I said, 'I will go an' right willin' since it's what you wants, an' I will learn how t' shudder, 'n' then, at any rate, I will unnerstan' one thing in this world.'

 

So in th' mornin' I packed my bag, and I set off on th' path out o' th' village (there were only one path out), sayin' to myself, 'If only I could shudder, if only I could shudder.' I hadn't gone too far, when I was overheard by a fellow traveller, who poin'ed out the gallows we was walking past.

 

'Lookee there,' said the man, 'some lawmen of the Guild rode through here yesterday, and they married these seven men to the ropemaker's daughter, and now they're learning how to fly. Sit yourself down there, underneath them, and wait until night comes, and you'll soon learn how to shudder.'

 

I thanked th' man for his kind advice, 'n' I went and sat down unner the gallows. I thought to myself, that iffin I knew how to shudder, the next mornin', I'd head on after that man and swear myself fore'er in his debt.

 

I waited, 'n' the day got colder as it headed on t'ward night, so I gathered up some branches and lit a fire t' keep myself warm. Once it got proper dark, th' wind picked up e'en more, 'n' the bodies started knockin' agin each other as they swayed to 'n' fro, 'n' I thought to myself how cold I was, an' how much colder must those poor bodies be up there, swingin' back 'n' forth. An' I felt sorry for them, so I climbed th' tree an' I untied th' bodies one by one an' brought them down 'n' set them up by th' fire. 'Cept th' last body, when I climbed the ladder, he were already loose, though th' rope were still roun' his neck, and he looked at me 'n' he moaned.

 

I said to him that I were mighty glad he didn' need my help, 'cos his friends were real heavy an' I were getting perty tired, an' I also couldn't help but notice how his friends weren' offering much i' th' way o' entertainin' conversation, so I invited him to join me at the fire as well. But agin he jus' moaned at me, 'n' sorta wriggled 'n' jerked hisself aroun' by his rope.

 

I were getting a bit cross, now, an' I tol' 'im that that weren' no way to behave when he gets hisself invited to share a fire wi' someone. But he still didna wanna do nothin 'cept that kinda wrigglin' 'n' jerkin', so I tol' 'im that iffin he weren' gonna behave hisself, I were gonna have to give 'im a push. Well, this seemed t' rully stir 'im up, an' he come at me wi' his arms outsretched like he were gonna grab me, and so I pushed 'im ina the fire, an' he burned up right quick, an' disappeared wi' a little pop sound, right at th' end.

 

So I sat down wi' th' rest o' his friends and spent the rest o' th' night in their much quieter, but also much friendlier, company. But I did not learn how to shudder.

 

Th' next day, I set off agin on my way further away from my Pa's village, an' once again I were muttering to myself as I walked. 'If only I could shudder, if only I could shudder.' A wagon rode pas' me, an' the driver called down to aks me what I were saying. I tol' 'im my story, as I walked along aside his wagon, an' when I were done he laughed an' told me that iffin I hopped up next to him he'd take me to a place where he were right sure I'd learn how to shudder. Well, I thanked 'im wi' all my heart, and aksed 'im to tell me more about this place we were goin'.

 

'Well, son,' he said,' near the inn I'll be staying at tonight there's an old castle that everyone says is haunted. They say that no one can spend a whole night there, that those who have tried have been driven mad with fear or have been terrified to death. If you want to learn how to shudder, son, I'd say that's the place to learn.'

 

Well, I were right pleased to hear this, an' I told th' man an' thanked him kindly. So the man dropped me a' th' castle, afore he headed on to th' inn, an' wished me luck. I wen' up to th' castle, an' weren' no door any more on account o' it all seemed to 'ave rotted away, so I calls out, 'hello, is there anyone there?' Weren' no reply, so I went in an' I found what mighta bin the' ol' kitchen, it were a room wi' a fireplace an' some benches anyhow. So I lit a fire, an' I set myself down on the benches, an' I hoped I'd soon be learnin' how to shudder.

 

I won' bore you wi' the parade o' things what came through that room that night. Things what bled, things what howled, things what screamed, things what came at me with claws 'n' teeth 'n' what have you. 'Cos none o' that were much innerestin' to me. What were innerestin,' though, were the fella who showed up just afore dawn. Great big tall fella he were, big hair like that woman Molly used to write for th' papers, clothes all shiny 'n' stuff. Talked funny, too, his voice kinda echoed.

 

'Who are you, my brother?' he said. I tol' 'im my name, and aksed 'im his. Starchild, he said he was called, them some stuff I didn' unnerstand 'bout 'bringing the funk' and the 'holy funk,' and how he were some kinda mixed up wrong place wrong time sorta thing. An' then he aksed me how come I weren' frightened by none o' the terrible things what haunted this place, an' I tol' him my problem 'bout not bein' able to shudder.

 

An' he looked at me, an' he smiled, an' he put his hand on my shoulder, an' he said 'Brother, I think I can help.' An' then, alluva sudden-like, there was this music all around us, real loud, loud like dynamite 'splodin' next t' yer ear, big deep boomin' an a kinda rhythmic thumpin'. Not unpleasant, just plenty diff'rent from th' banjo 'n' fiddle I were used to. I notice that my foot's a-tappin', an' then it seems my whole body is a-followin', an' I looked up at Starchild, an' he's noddin' his head an' he's smilin', an' I get a big smile on my face too, an' I holler 'I'm shudderin'! I'm shudderin'! This is what it's like to shudder!'

 

An' Starchild, he nods at me, and he says 'That's for sure, brother. When my music plays, you'll shudder, you'll judder, you'll jive, you'll lock and pop and hell you'll even do the electric boogaloo. Yessir, I think we've fixed your problem. And you, I think, can help me with mine.'

 

'An that's how I learned to shudder. What happened next … well, that's a whole nuther chapter.

[StuffedKiwi]

Chapter Three: What's a Happenin'?

 

Lilith surveyed the swamp. She would have known something was wrong here, even without Lucius's very cryptic message, sent through multiple unconnected couriers. He always was a wily and a careful one. But the swamp, yes, something was definitely wrong. She closed her eyes and … felt, for want of a better word, outwards, using her other senses. Now she could sense that there were two things wrong here. The first was the something she didn't recognize, which she presumed was what Lucius's message had been about. Some presence she didn't know, altering the fabric of magic here, … complicating things. Lilith didn't like complications. They were Pandora's speciality.

 

The second thing she could sense made her smile. Arcanist magic was here, presumably hunting the same presence she was. She sensed stage magic: Colette. Lilith signaled to her sister, sending her outwards on one flank, while she herself anchored the other. Nekima flexed her wings and drew her sword. She didn't much like taking orders from Lilith, but this particular task promised bloodshed, and that would make up for a plethora of other problems.

* * *

Lucas McCabe pulled on the reins of his horse, pausing to look around at the landscape. So far, this mission was proving a pleasant one for him since, for once, his Guild and Ten Thunders obligations were in line. News had come of some new force, possibly magic, emerging in the bayou. Reconnoiter the swamp, he'd been told by representatives from both forces, and report back what you find. Of course, it was going to get tricky again as soon as he had to work out what to report back to each master. That was, as always, going to give him a headache.

 

But in the meantime, he had more pressing issues. Something had caught his attention in the landscape ahead: a glint of armour, perhaps? He wasn't sure yet. But in Malifaux, even more than everywhere else, better safe than sorry. He signalled his forces to spread out, and advance, carefully.

* * *

Som'er had been pretty sure that this whole Crazy Mo thing was going to attract some attention from folks beyond the Bayou. He had some pretty firm ideas of the sorts of things he wanted to say to Crazy Mo – most of them involved the business end of his Boomer – but first, Gremlins needed to come together and see off these outsiders coming in. So here he was, having got word from some of his more reliable outriders (the ones with smart pigs, not the pigs with smart riders) that something not quite right was heading this way. Som'er sniffed. Yep, something was definitely not right. The air smelt like pigs, unwashed Gremlin, weak gunpowder and strong liquor. That was all normal. But it also smelt like … rats.

 

Som'er sighed, and squinted around at his forces. His counting wasn't up to much, but he was pretty sure he was going to be outnumbered. And he hated being outnumbered. 'Boys!' he hollered, 'Time ta git y'er bros!'

* * *

Colette slouched against the tree, her ribs aching where Lilith's sword had sliced into her. She peered around the tree at Lilith and her sister, both of whom looked pretty cut up as well, but nonetheless they held the field. It was lucky they hadn't checked her more closely to see if she was still alive – the mannequin she had substituted for her supposedly-dead body looked real enough, and the blood drenching her side was certainly real. Damn those swords! An Ice Golem should most definitely take more than two slices to bring down, even from a sword like Lilith's. And Nekima's blade had diced a whole wing of her crew.

 

But as she spied, unseen, on the sisters, she had part of the answer she was looking for, anyway: whatever the magic was that Ramos had sent her out here to investigate, it wasn't Neverborn, and nor was it something the Neverborn controlled – they were here looking, just as she was. And that, at least, was something she could report back.

* * *

Kirai clapped her hands, sending all the summoned spirits back to the spirit realm, taking a moment to caress the Night Terror before it left – the dear wee thing had fought impressively, dodging an Austringer for ages, keeping its attention away from Lost Love, and from where Kirai's other forces were quietly capturing one of McCabe's Oiran. It had been an impressive display from Kirai's crew as a whole, aside from the Shikome who turned up only long enough to blink and then be dispatched once again. She took a moment to acknowledge her enemy, because McCabe's forces had fought well. Though badly outnumbered by the end, they seemed to be nonetheless everywhere, and had successfully captured Jaakuna. But it had been McCabe who had called a retreat, leaving Kirai to continue her investigation into the strange new magic she could sense emanating from the Bayou.

* * *

Hamelin ground his teeth – what there were of them left – in frustration. Damn these Gremlins! They weren't even the ones he was looking for. He had sensed the emergence of this new power long before word had come through Outcast channels that there was a prize worth hunting down here in the Bayou. When Som'er and his boys had come yelping and squealing out of the bushes at him, his rats had swarmed loyally to his defence; in danger of being overwhelmed at first, they had soon evened the odds, and then begun to turn the tables on the Gremlins. But at that stage, Som'er seemed to have got what he came for, and disappeared back into the surroundings, laying false trails and obliterating the tracks that Hamelin had been following. Now he would have to start again, and time, he sensed, was not going to be on his side. There were many forces at work, seeking this power, and while it might not be good to be the first to try to take it, it would definitely be good to be first there to watch.

* * *

Crazy Mo sat before the fire. He'd been drinking most of the day, and he was pretty sure he'd started smoking before he started drinking, so his mind wasn't at its sharpest. Come to think of it, it might have been yesterday that he started drinking. Still, he could sense Starchild behind him, and sense that something was distracting his new 'brutha.'

 

'Yo, man, wha's goin' on?' he asked.

 

Starchild blinked, his mind slowly bringing the present into focus. 'Forces are gathering against us, Brother Mo. Forces that don't want us to win. Forces that will have to be … dealt with.'

 

Mo thought this was a good time to broach a subject that had been troubling him for some time. 'Um, brutha? Wha' is't, zactly, tha' we want? Tha' is, why do alla them folks wanna stop us doin', well, doin' wha'e'er it is that we's doin'? Apart from, y'know, dancin' 'n' stuff.'

 

Mo had a feeling that Starchild smiled, though he couldn't see it. 'That, my brother, is a good question. The thing we're going to do, that they all want to stop? It isn't very much: all we're going to do, is send me home.'

 

Mo was momentarily sad, though the emotion was definitely blunted by the haze of smoke and 'shine. And then he was puzzled. 'Wait, seein' as how I di'n know that, how d'they know you wants t'go home? An', why don' they wan' you t'go home?'

 

'Ah.' Starchild paused. 'Well, I suspect they don't know I want to go home. They just sense the power that I am gathering here, the power I will need and use to send me home. And they want it for themselves, of course. As to why they wouldn't want me to go? Well, let's save that story for another day....'

[StuffedKiwi]

Chapter 4: Deeper into the Bayou.

 

McCabe sat on his horse, the gentle rise beneath him offering him a good view of the surrounding terrain. It was bleak, desolate – a part of the swamp that seemed to have lost all life, as against what he had come to think of the swamp's 'normal' superabundance of life. Here, all was deathly still, deathly quiet. And this, of course, was where his Ten Thunders masters wanted him to hold his position, without – again, of course – telling him why he needed to hold it, or even why he was there. He huffed out his breath in a nearly inaudible sigh of frustration.

 

But just then, there was flicker of movement, and then another. Dull sunlight on rusty metal. As McCabe watched, a series of industrial nightmares emerged into view, clanking their way towards the hill he stood on, and towards him.

 

This time his sigh was audible. Leveticus. McCabe quickly formulated a plan, sent Luna scampering away on one flank, and concentrated his forces as much as he could onto the other. But as he watched the mechanical monstrosities thud relentlessly forward, he couldn't shake the dreadful feeling that what was approaching was a kind of inevitable annihilation.

* * *

Had anyone been watching, as Kirai and Colette fought each other in and out of the trees, across the swampy river and back again, such a watcher would easily be forgiven for mistaking the fight for a dance. Ikiryo swung her claw-like nails around the Ice Golem in graceful circles; Izamu's Dadao whirled in complicated pirouettes around, above, and under the performer who twisted, spun, curved and leapt, always just ahead of it. The dance was deadly, too, of course, and Kirai's shears wove their way not around but through the ice gamin that got too close, while Colette's trick with the saber definitely surprised the flesh construct who was its dupe. But Kirai and Colette danced always beyond each other's range, offering each other distractions aplenty. It was a game of misdirection, looking like a dance when it was really a fight; but the fight itself was merely a ruse to mask the real business at hand. What that business was, such an observer would have been hard pressed to say. But when it was all over, and Colette bowed to Kirai before leaving the stage, and Kirai nodded back as she left, it seemed that Kirai had had the better of it, as she headed further into the bayou, while Colette retired in the direction of Malifaux city.

* * *

Leveticus slapped at another mosquito as he gathered his forces back together, regretting that McCabe had left no useful salvage behind. He regretted being this far from Malifaux City; he regretted that he had left Alyce in charge of the shop back there rather than bringing her with him; he regretted many things about this whole expedition, not least the bayou's damned mosquitoes. It's all very well being able to come back from the dead, but if your body is itchy enough, sometimes it would be more pleasant not to.

 

Shaking his head to clear such thoughts, Leveticus turned his attention back to the swamp, focusing again on the best path onwards from here. McCabe had been not much more than a distraction....

 

Ah. Metaphorical gears and levers clicked into place in Leveticus's head, as Ophelia stepped out into view, already at close range, hands not straying far from her hips where her rough riders hung. Leveticus sensed movement in the swamp away to her left and her right, as Gremlins and more emerged into view. McCabe had indeed distracted him, the easy victory itself part of, perhaps, the plan of some being beyond Leveticus's immediate awareness. His mind whirled as he thought ahead – chances were that Ophelia, too, was acting as the pawn of such a being, presumably like McCabe without know it. Leveticus had come out here, investigating the rumours of a power emerging in the Bayou, seeking a Tyrant. Now, it seemed, perhaps a Tyrant was indeed here, and Leveticus had let it get the drop on him.

 

Ophelia smiled as she sashayed forward. 'Howdy boys,' she said. 'Wanna dance?'

 

Mentally flinging a command to his Abominations to throw themselves at the Gremlins, Leveticus physically flung himself to the ground behind a rock, away from those damn guns. Mosquito bites or no, he had a feeling this battle was going to require some dying, on his part as well as everyone else's.

 

As Leveticus dropped out of sight, Ophelia whirled and drew faster than just about anyone you could imagine. First the clanking robot Lazarus, and then the giant stuffed Teddy Bear, fell apart to her bullets, pieces of metal and fluffy stuffing filling the air. Seriously, she thought to herself, who's gonna take a necromancer seriously if he thinks an animated Teddy Bear is a good idea? And robots? Hell, even a Teddy Bear shows a bit more imagination than a robot....

* * *

Alyce spun in surprise when Leveticus emerged from – from where? Still don't know, thought Alyce – from somewhere behind her. 'You're back! What happened?'

 

Leveticus took a big breath and shook himself. He seemed drained. 'What happened? The short version is, Ophelia happened.'

 

He stopped, sat himself down at the table, and gestured to Alyce to pour himself some water from the jug. She ground her teeth in frustration – why did he never simply tell her everything she needed to know, but made her ask all these damn questions – but did as he asked, and then asked the inevitable question that she supposed he wanted. 'And the long version?'

 

'The long version is, as always, more complicated. It seems I was right; whatever is behind the power emerging in the Bayou is probably a Tyrant, or if not something of equivalent strength, and with an equivalent talent for long term, large scale manipulation. I fear that, having been forced back to the city here, I will be unable to intervene in any meaningful way. And I fear that those who remain close enough don't have enough information to act appropriately.'

 

Alyce shook her head. 'Damnation, Levy, why can't you just answer questions without all this cryptic bull? Whatever, you decide what you want to do next, you let me know.' Alyce slammed her chair back, and stormed out of the room. But she knew, and she was pretty sure Leveticus knew too, that she was secretly relieved to have him back. She wasn't sure what she thought of that.

* * *

Starchild sat down at the fireplace next to Mo just as the messenger finished his report. Mo looked up at Starchild, and then nodded to the messenger, who turned away, grabbed a bottle of moonshine, and joined the party happening behind him. Mo had a feeling that Starchild already knew what he was going to tell him, but thought he should say it anyway.

 

'Ophelia, she says we done seen the last o' Leveticus, an' tha' she's comin' here now to whup our asses fo' causin' alla these here disturbances. Unless she catches up wi' Som'er first, and has to whup his ass, she says.'

 

Starchild smiled and nodded. 'She will be welcome when she gets here, brother Mo. I'm sure she dances beautifully.' He stretched his long legs towards the fire and looked up at the stars.

 

'Brutha, why we dancin'?' Mo asked bluntly the question that still bothered him.

 

'Love, brother Mo, the answer is love. When we dance, we love our bodies, we love ourselves, we love each other. When we're dancing, we make beauty in the world.'

 

He paused for a moment, and then carried on. 'But I think you mean, what does our dancing have to do with my plan to go home. Well, it's same answer, but with a twist. When we dance this funkadelic dance of love, brother Mo, the love generates a magic, a power that is in sync with the land, a power that the Bayou here amplifies. It's a magic that I learnt from another people in another time, a way for dance to reunite the living with the dead and bring peace, prosperity, and unity to the people of the land.'

 

Mo thought about this. 'That sounds purty great,' he said, at last. 'How's it get you home?'

 

'Well, brother, like with most things that sound great, there's a catch. The people I learnt this from, the people who danced this dance in another time and another place, they were a people whose land had been invaded by people from another place, they were a people whose language and culture and way of life was under threat. The animals that they hunted and herded had been wiped out by the invaders. Thousands of their people had been killed, and what remained of their land was being stolen from them.'

 

Mo nodded. 'Gremlins c'n sympathize wi' tha', 'n' all.'

 

Starchild continued. 'They danced this dance to cleanse their land, to sweep away the evil in their world, leaving a world filled with love. Some among them thought that the dance would bring about peace between their people and the invaders. But others knew the truth: the dance would preserve the lives only of those dancing, which meant that there would be no place for the invaders in this newly cleansed land.'

 

Mo thought for a moment. 'Tha' rully works?' he said doubtfully.

 

Starchild laughed. 'Well, we'll see, brother Mo. I believe that the energy that we generate here by dancing, amplified by the magic of the Bayou, will indeed be enough to wipe all Earth-siders from Malifaux. And I will use the energy generated by that destruction to send myself back to my own time and place.'

 

Mo nodded and grinned. 'I reckon Gremlins'll be on board wi' that one. An' if them uthers got any sense o' what you 's doin', then they 's definitely gonna be unhappy 'bout it.'

[StuffedKiwi]

Chapter 5: And then....

 

Som'er squinted out into the mist that clung to the Bayou's vegetation. His scouts were reporting back that only three of the many crews that had made their way into the swamp still pushed on. Besides his own, of course. Some of the scouts had cunningly led Kirai's crew into the vicinity of McCabe's, and it looked like they were going to face of against each other before they came after Mo. Som'er wasn't at all fond of Mo, but on principle, he weren't going to let anyone but a Gremlin whup a Gremlin. So if Kirai and McCabe were going to be otherwise occupied for the foreseeable future, that left Lilith. No point in hiding from her. Best just go put himself in her way. Something was definitely not right with all this, though.

* * *

'How is it I am still here?' McCabe wondered to himself. It had been pure luck that Ophelia turned up to engage Leveticus's crew, allowing McCabe and his badly battered crew the chance to crawl away. Or had it been luck? McCabe was increasingly dubious about that whole concept. Everything that happened these days seemed to be a result of someone's hands pulling strings, and it was becoming more and more apparent to him that none of those hands were his. Still, the only way to get his hands on those strings was getting some power of his own, whether that meant magic or knowledge. And the best way he could see forward towards that was by finishing this mission and finding out – and perhaps taking for himself – whatever the power was, here in the Bayou, that had everyone so worried.

 

Unfortunately, he could see, he wasn't the only one with that idea: just now, Kirai Ankoku had stepped delicately into view, bowed to him gracefully, and now stood, holding those shears of hers like they were a fan. 'Spirits,' McCabe muttered to himself. 'I hate spirits.'

* * *

Lilith could sense Som'er through the mist long before she could see him. Something was off. The Gremlins felt … wrong. Perhaps it was the power, nearby in the swamp somewhere, having some effect on them. Perhaps it was having an effect on her. She narrowed her eyes at that thought. She didn't like the possibility at all.

 

When the first of the Gremlins came into view, creeping out of the mist, Lilith called on the magic of the land, tangling the shadow of the Gremlin with that of her lieutenant, Bad Juju. Suddenly the Gremlin found itself standing next to Lilith herself, and Juju roared out his battle cry from in the midst of the Gremlins' front line. Lilith staggered – the magic had taken more from her than she thought – and the Gremlin had the presence of mind to call out quickly.

 

'Som'er's go' a message for ya,' the Gremlin gabbled, as fast as it could. ''E says, this ain't the fight we should be 'avin'. 'E says, 'is fight's not wiv you, and your fight's not wiv 'im. 'E says it's Starchi–.'

 

Lilith growled with frustration, and beheaded the Gremlin with a swipe of Alraune, her sword. 'Starchild,' she muttered. 'I should have guessed. Or–' and her eyes narrowed again, and then widened. 'Or Lucius should have told me. Conniving bastard.'

 

Lilith thought quickly. Som'er was right, this wasn't her battle. She was going to be needed elsewhere. Let Som'er take care of the swamp. Calling her forces back, leaving Juju to cover their retreat, she withdrew from the Gremlins, leaving the field to them.

* * *

It was unclear to Kirai why anyone would get in her way. Surely McCabe knew that she knew he was waiting for her? Surely he knew that his ambush was going to be unsuccessful? She sighed and walked on. The sooner she got through this, the sooner she could get on with what really mattered. She was tired, she was sick of the swamp, she wanted to get back to somewhere every step didn't involve some new and depressingly grotesque slime, mould, muck, or weed making its way onto her kimono.

 

A single shot rang out. 'Surprise!' thought Kirai, smiling wryly. 'An ambush!' Kirai knew she was in no danger, so she merely continued walking. But suddenly she felt the metaphysical bond that tied her to the spirit of her lost love tremble, shudder, and dissolve. Turning, Kirai was just in time to see the last wisps of him disappearing back into the ether.

 

Grief passed through Kirai for a mere instant, replaced almost immediately by rage. When she turned back to McCabe's crew, her eyes shone with an unnatural light. 'Hasn't he suffered enough!' she screamed, to no one in particular. Raising both arms in the air, she summoned spirits from everywhere, bringing madness and destruction to all around her.

 

Luckily, the slime and the muck hid the worst of the blood.

* * *

Having sent Lilith packing, Som'er could see he just needed to see off Kirai and then the swamp would be back to Gremlin territory. He didn't think there was anything he could say to Kirai that she hadn't already learnt from her spirits, so it looked like it would have to be a straight up fight. This was going to be tricky, though. Luckily, Som'er was just the Gremlin for 'tricky.'

 

He called Burt and the giant pig Gracie over, took them to one side and laid out his plan. Mostly he talked to Gracie; he weren't too sure that talking to Burt ever had much effect.

 

'See-ums th' crone's th' key, reckun. Ifun weckan takerout reckun hole shebang'll c'lapse roun' th' middle. 'S'your job, gotcha?'

 

Som'er was used to Gremlins not really understanding him, but Burt's eyes narrowed, and swung in the direction of Kirai's forces, where they knew Datsue-Ba was coming too. That was a good sign. Gracie snorted and pawed at the ground, too, so Som'er figured that between them they knew what they were doing. He nodded and gestured them away.

 

When things started heating up, it really looked to Som'er like it was a good plan. Gracie galloped up the middle, straight towards Kirai's lieutenant, Burt carried along in the saddle. And they very quickly laid the old lady out, between Burt's guns and Gracie's tusks. Course, they didn't last themselves too long after that, but that was hardly the issue.

 

Over on one flank, the mercenary gunslinger Som'er had cunningly hired did a great job taking out one of those incredibly distressing Hanged, and holding up the giant suit of armour Izamu for a good long while. But gradually, Som'er began to realize, it wasn't going to be enough. There were just too many spirits, and they were just too deadly. Muttering disgustedly to himself, Som'er called for a retreat.

* * *

Kirai stepped daintily towards Starchild. Mo stood just behind and to one side of him. It would be easy to forget, looking at Kirai, that she had walked through gallons of blood to be the one to get here. Starchild smiled at her, hands wide in welcome. The music, his music, pounded and thudded in the air. The revellers continued their dancing around the scene.

 

'Welcome, Kirai honey. Welcome to our rainbow revolution. I know you speak with the spirits, I know they've told you what we're doing. And I know you have loved ones who have crossed over. Join us in our dance to reunite the living with the dead. Help us bring peace to this land, and to yourself.' His voice was like honey; as he spoke, it seemed to Mo that visions of this world-to-be formed in the wake of the sound, swam around Starchild and ebbed softly into the ground.

 

Kirai cocked her head to one side. She paused, as if considering. Starchild's smile widened in anticipation.

 

'I don't like dancing,' she said. And then, faster than you could blink, her shears flicked out, slicing Starchild on the arm. He jerked back, clearly taken by surprise. Before he could react any further, suddenly the air was full of swirling, diving spirits. They surrounded Starchild, claws, fangs, and weapons sweeping through him over and over. He fell to his knees, then to his face, and was still. The music slowed, quieted, and stopped. The dancing Gremlins likewise staggered, blinked, and looked about, confused, like people waking from a dream. It was over.

 

Kirai turned to Mo. Mo looked back at her, unafraid. He felt sad at the loss of his friend. 'Why?' he asked.

 

For a long time, it didn't seem as if Kirai was going to answer. But then she did. 'He wanted to reunite the living with the dead. I've seen how that turns out. It's not as pretty as it sounds. Besides,' she smiled wanly, 'I like being part of this world. I don't want to be cleansed from it. It's brutal and it's miserable and it's full of suffering and evil. But it's still my world.'

 

She nodded at Mo, turned, and walked daintily back into the swamp.

* * *

A knock, on the shabby door of a shabby hut, somewhere deep in the Bayou. A voice from inside grunts, and from the outside a hand pushes on the door, which creaks and squeaks as it swings inwards.

 

'Pa? Eeny? Meeny? Miny? Ah'm home. 'N' guess wha'? Ah learned me how t'shudder.'