The Wanderer
Paul was a hard worker. Well, at least, now he was.
He had endured countless trials during his high school and college years. Due to the experience, he had now finally understood what his problem was.
He just had to study.
Well that and, "applying himself," as his friends painfully remind him time and time again.
Now he was applying himself, painstakingly typing the night away for a business report he has to deliver promptly at 10am the next morning. It seemed funny to him that he of all people, a former bum and directionless vagrant would be on top of the world. Living in a posh condominium, cash was overflowing; life was good.
Then there was a knock on his door.
He got up and promptly answered the door. It was his roommate.
"Dude, I have to borrow the computer."
"Now?"
The irritated tone would have hopefully given his roomate an idea to his answer to the stupid question, which was, by the way, a resounding, "No, fuck off."
"Come on, man! This is important!"
"Like that 'Important Time' when you were downloading over 20 gigs of porn?"
"Uh, no. Not this time honest!"
Paul gave him the look. The look consisted of sneering with immense hatred and eyes flashing with fire; he honestly believed that the fire in his eyes showed the intensity of his soul.
Paul told his roommate of this philosophy once. His roommate promptly laughed at the, "fire of his soul," part.
It did not help their rapport as roomates.
Paul sighed.
"I need to this man, unlike some of us here, we have a job to do."
"So do I! I also have important shit to do! Like now, damn it!"
"This report is due tomorrow man, and I'm only half done."
He lied. He was almost finished.
"Well shit!"
"Tough luck man, maybe tomorrow?"
"If we're lucky."
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"Hello, who is this?"
"Is this the Platinum Brand?"
"Why, yes it is. How can I help you?"
"The nation of Klavernia is in desperate need of a man of your skills. You see-"
"Klavernia? Is that in Europe?"
"Uh, yes."
"Do you have any hot European chicks there? And is their hotness proportional to their age? I don't want to go to jail."
"I.... do not understand this question."
"Well it's very important. Are there any?"
"I'm not sure."
"Not sure?! Why the fuck would I help a country without any hot chicks in it? HUH?"
"Um, we have. By the tonnes."
"Hehe. Tonnes."
"Um, Mister Platinum Brand sir, we need your assistance."
"Hehe. Tonnes."
"Our nuclear reactor core has been overridden by terrorists."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"Yes. They are threatening to overload our core unless their demands are met."
"Really? What are their demands?"
"Their demands are irrelevant. Our government does not deal with terrorists." "
"Hmmm, right."
"They are threatening the stability of Europe!"
"How so?"
"Overriding the core would result in a meltdown of epic proportions. The resulting fallout would ruin not only our fair country, but key parts of Eastern Europe as well. This would cause a devasting economic downfall which would cripple the European Economy. Furthermore this economic instability would backlash into other countries as well. "
"Gee, that DOES sound bad."
"We need you to shut down the nuclear reactor. We could do it, but they have put up tremendous internet security."
"What the fuck? Internet security?"
"Our core is connected directly to a network which we can shut on and off at any given time. Unfortunately they have put up countermeasures preventing our access."
"So that's how I fit in. I hack the shit up."
"Yes. Once you have shut down the core, we can immobilize the rebel-"
"Rebel?"
"Terrorists invading our reactor."
"Rebel terrorists?"
"We are in desperate need of your help."
"How badly do you want my services?"
"Excuse me?"
"How much will you pay me?"
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The Wanderer was annoyed. His stupid roommate Paul didn't want to lend him the computer. He could have easily ended the, "Klavernia Nuclear Reactor Crisis," that's on CNN right now. In five minutes, tops. He, admittedly, could have finished it yesterday. After being paid an absurd sum of money, he immediately "accessed" the Klavernia Nuclear Security Network (or KNSN as the Prime Minister proudly put it). The security was pathetically easy to access.
For him anyway.
He could have finished it, but something wasn't right. His standard fee was appended by two zeroes. It was too much money too quickly. So bummed around, all the while getting calls from the annoying Prime Minister.
"Is it done? Is the system shut down?"
"It is harder than I thought. I am doing my best sir."
He was laughing deep down inside. Korgoth of Barbaria was on.
This continued until the news went on concerning the Core Crisis.
"We will cause a meltdown in the core in 2 hours! Meet our demands, or face the consequences!"
2 hours. Paul was using the computer. The fate of Klavernia and a good part of Eastern Europe depended on the Wanderer's roommate to finish his stupid report. He was amused.
Paul was finally done with his report. After saving it in the hard drive and his flash disk, he went outside the computer room and got himself a drink. His roommate was there, watching something on the TV.
"Nathran, what the hell are you is on?"
"Some Klavernia Nuclear Thingy."
"Oh shit. That Klavernia thing is really fucked up now."
"You know about Klavernia?"
"Dude, have you been reading the news?"
It was apparent to Paul he wasn't, given the blank stare on his face.
Nathran was insanely good at looking ignorant. He should get a medal. "Most Outstanding Ignorant Stare," would be engraved on it.
"That country is fucked up. Imagine a first-world country with a third-worl political system. Its all corrupt there, and the people have finally started fighting back. But to capture a nuclear core... this is insane!"
"Are you done with the computer?"
Paul was taken aback. Nathran had a gleam in his eye, one that he didn't see often. But he held his ground.
"It'll take a couple of more hours."
Klavernia was fucked, Nathran thought.
Unless....
*********************************************************************************
The Wanderer waited until his roommate was inside the computer room.
It has been a long time since he called upon his servant. He began his incantation.
"I call forth the four winds of the Earth, the seven winds of Oblivion and the Great Wind of the heavens."
A gentle breeze rose up from the floor.
"I summon thee, Vayu. Heed my call!"
A brilliant light engulfed the Wanderer's eyes.
"MY MASTER. GREETINGS."
Nathran found himself atop a gigantic mountain. He was somewhere in Oblivion, he thought; the realm of Vayu. He tried to look around, but great white clouds obscured his view. He could only see his immediate surroundings, and could see that the peak was covered in snow. For some odd reason, he did not feel cold.
"FORGIVE ME FOR BRINGING YOU HERE MASTER, BUT I AM RATHER BUSY."
Nathran was always impressed with Vayu's stature. Standing at roughly six feet, Vayu was one of the Lords of Wind. He wears a green cape which covers most of his body. His body was lithe, yet Nathran could easily feel the power which fuels Vayu.
His azure hair is a blue mop which covers the feautures of his face. All Nathran could ever see of Vayu was his black lips.
Nathran remembers the one time he saw Vayu's face. It was not a pleasant memory.
"It is alright."
"What are you doing?" asked Nathran.
"MEDITATING, MY MASTER. IT HELPS ME PREPARE FOR WHATEVER IS AHEAD."
There was a slight plause.
"I KNOW YOU WOULD NOT CALL ME FOR SMALL TALK MASTER. WHAT IS IT THAT YOU WISH?"
"I need your help, Vayu. I require your power."
Vayu appeared incredulous.
"RIGHT NOW, MY MASTER? YOU ARE AWARE THAT IN USING MY POWER, WE WOULD RISK DETECTION FROM...THEM?"
The THEM were annoying indeed, thought Nathran.
"I know, but innocent lives are at stake."
"A GOOD DEED?" Vayu could not hold back his surprise.
"FROM YOU, MY MASTER?"
"Oh shut up and comply damn you."
Nathran could see the hint of a grin in Vayu's lips.
"VERY WELL, MY MASTER."
Nathran began another incantion.
"OH GREAT VAYU, I BESEECH THEE TO EMPOWER ME. GIVE ME THE SWIFTNESS OF THE SEVEN WINDS OF OBLIVION, AND THE GREAT WIND OF THE HEAVENS AS I GO DOWN THE PATH OF VENGEANCE."
Vayu opened his cloak revealing his golden armor. It shone with the brilliance of the sun.
"I ANSWER THE CALL OF THE LAST SCION, AND IT SHALL BE DONE!"
Another flash of light blinded Nathran's eyes.
The Wanderer found himself back in the room.
But everything was slow.
He smiled a half-smile.
"The things I do for money," he bemused.
He went to the computer room. He saw that Paul was playing Unreal Tournament.
"Fucker. He's finished."
He closed the game, and once again "accessed" the KNSN.
He promptly left the room.
"GO BACK FROM WHENCE YOU CAME, VAYU."
"OF COURSE MASTER."
Time slowed back down to its normal pace.
A sudden scream came from the computer room.
"WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO MY GAME?"
Nathran smiled a half-smile.
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"So, what happened to that Klavernia stuff?" asked Paul.
"It blew over. Apparently the Klavernian government managed to acquire help from a third party." Nathran smiled as he said this.
"That sucks. The people are saved from the nuclear fallout, but they aren't safe from their fucking laws."
"Oh I'm not too sure about that. You'll never know when the people acquire means to their freedom."
"But those people? They can only hope!"
"You never know," Nathran replied.
*********************************************************************************
The leader of the rebellion was stupified.
He was emailed by some, "ritou hakuzoru," to get his people out of the Reactor Core in an hour. He was told by the hacker that his network security for the core was "n00bz0rz lawl" and the government will charge right in after the time limit. This "ritou hakuzoru" also proceeded to give him a Swiss Bank Account with 1,000,000 euros in it.
The mysterious hacker's parting words were, "Use it well, and free your people."
Also, a postscript:
"IF YOU USE MY MONEY TO BUY HOT KLAVERNIAN WHORES I FUCK YOU UP REALLY BAD."
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The plane of Oblivion is covered with many layers. If you look hard enough, you would find what you seek; be it some heaven or hell.
Somewhere within Oblivion lies the Plain of Unspeakable Pleasure. Although it is called that, this area of Oblivion exists only for the pleasure of its Dread Mistress, the Lady Tiamat. It has lured many planeswalkers to their demise, thinking that they would encounter sensual pleasure, obtain untold artifacts of power or receive wealth beyond their imaginings. Unfortunately for them, they experienced pleasure in the eyes of Tiamat, and her pleasure usually involves the pain and suffering of others. It is a bleak place; a lifeless red dessert. The dry air would fill one's lungs with dust.
In the distance, always in the distance, one would see a Dark Tower. Within this tower lies Tiamat, and only those she selects can enter her fortress. She picks them herself. She gauges the Physical, Mental and Spiritual strength of the mortals who enter her realm. To those, "worthy," she reveals oases that will not be seen unless she wishes it, even with the strongest of divination magics. This ensures that only those deemed strong enough by the Dread Mistress can enter her real and even hope to survive the perilous dessert.
Why does the Dread Mistress do this?
"Why torture the weak?" was Tiamat's motto.
As of now, Tiamat lounged about lazily within her bed. She just finished taking pleasure from a silly Planeswalker who, upon entering her Dread Fortress, demanded to rewarded riches and glory. She liked his spunk, and so she proceeded to fuck him until he was dry.
She always liked to play with her food.
A lowly scrye demon entered her chambers.
"How dare you enter my chambers, whelp?!"
The scrye demon was a loss for words. He has ravaged countless women in the span of his chaotic existence, but all of them could not compare to what he saw when he finally gazed upon his mistress' body. Her hair, normally braided with ribbons weaved from the Nymphs of the Peaceful Vale, was now a tangled mess of sweat and smelled faintly with desire. Her red skin displayed her lust as it glistened with sweat from the sex.
"WELL?" Tiamat did not enjoy this sudden interruption of her playtime.
"Oh, thousand pardons my demonic diva, we have felt the psychic resonance of Vayu."
Tiamat was taken by surprise.
"Is this information accurate? Where was it located?"
"It is accurate, my lavicious lady. We found the resonance somewhere in the mortal plane, my pernicious princess."
"Send scouts immediately. I want him found alive."
She smiled.
"Tell me his location when he is found. Do not engage with him."
A smile crossed her lips.
"I shall deal with him myself."
"Yes, my evil enchantress!" The scrye demon went off at once.
Tiamat was pleased. Very pleased.
She had a good fuck, and she had found the elusive Last Scion. Her subordinate Lpeinz was careless enough to confront the Last Scion directly. This time, it would be on her terms.
It was a good day.