Message from Author: I liked Erfworld so much, that I decided to write fan fiction. I decided to go with a different angle though.
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Trance Willow did not like conflict. Popping on a world that existed solely for unceasing war did not help matters. Since coming into existence in the Kingdom of the Battlestrong she had felt a bit like an alien, an outsider. But she had irrevokably learned to keep her opinion to herself when she witnessed first hand what happened to those that did not communicate a sincere desire to fight and follow orders. She had learned that lesson when she had to take part in the torture and murder of her own sister.
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“Twins! Excellent work Aref! I will make sure you get an extra special reward.” Trance stood blinking in the open courtyard in reaction to her first words she had heard. The sun was warm and bright overhead. It felt good on her olive skin. It was then that she felt another sensation. Her right hand was grasping the hand of another woman. The woman seemed to be of similar features and height as her. They both had long pure white hair, violet irises set in white eyeballs, and modest but cute breasts. However were Trance was slender with a slight build of a teenage girl, the woman she had popped with was muscular and Amazonian like a gung-ho fitness instructor. It was then that Trance noticed that the woman was studying her also. Their eye’s meet and they felt an instant kinship.
“I am Lady Adela Rockbreaker, a noble warlord. How may I serve you?” While the announcement was meant for those that had witnessed their popping, it seemed like the statement had been aimed at Trance.
Without thinking Trance responded in her own softer and more reluctant voice “I am Lady Trance Willow, a noble caster. How may I serve you?” Again the subtle natural thinkomancy that was part of the popping process had prompted the new units to respond in a uniform introduction. And again it had seemed that the statement was aimed at the person at the other end of the clinched hands.
“A caster as promised and extra warlord to go along with it! You definitely earned your upkeep today, Aref. This warlord popping was certainly worth the trip away from the capital. ” It was then that Trance took notice of the speaker of the first words she had ever heard. He was a tall man with a simple iron crown with a single large green gemstone. He was clad in a simple black tank top and camo pants. He looked the very image of a very grizzled war veteran. His tall frame was loaded with muscle almost hid by a little bit of doughiness. While this resulted in him having a slight beer belly, it made his chest, shoulder, neck, and arms look all the larger. He was boldly bald, with a thick, but well groomed pepper gray mustache. The hair on his head had apparently migrated to his tanned arms and chest. It grew where ever the numerous scars did not make it impossible to spurt. On his back was strapped a huge sword nearly as large as him. Meanwhile his green pants held an array of knives. Even his tank top had an image of a sword pointing downward embroidered into it.
The ruler brought up a smoking cigar that idled in his thick finger, took a long drag, and then let out a smoky snort through his nose like a dwagon sizing up the new baubles to his hoard. “Adela, you are to come with me. Trance you are go with Aref and follow his instructions. Aref, I want to know the caster’s natural specialty by the end of the turn. Train her. Issue her a standard array of scrolls and battle equipment. I want her ready for the front within 10 turns. Intel says that barbarians are negotiations with the Hamster and will not tolerate his corruption on my archipelago. I have promised Sultana Tiafa that the barbarians will be snuffed out in 20 turns. Now if you will excuse me, I planned to go over battle plans before I saw my boys off. Dismissed.”
With that the ruler marched away with his honor guard which consisted of younger versions of the ruler dressed in green and black Viking gear and arms. Adela looked at Trance for a moment and with her eyes said I will see you soon . . . I hope.
Aref gave a well-rehearsed, but slightly insincere salute to the rapidly departing overlord. He had olive skin like Trance and Adela, but his hair was completely shaved from his head. Aref was dressed far less militaristically. He wore simple grey slacks, a shiny red dress shirt unbuttoned down to the top of his stomach, and a thick gold chain with an oversized ankh hanging around his neck.
He smiled sweetly at Trance. “Come with me. We have much to do. We will head over to the caster training area I set up and I will interview you on the way over.”
On the way over Aref asked Trance some common sense questions. She responded back. She knew she was a level one caster popped into the service of King Ramnor Battlestrong. She knew her tribe was Southron like Aref. She knew she was popped on the side of Battlestrong in the city of Southron Gift. She also knew that King Ramnor and most of his soldiers were of the Norst tribe. She listed the rules and alliances of her side that had been made by her Ruler. She answered several matter of fact questions about the mechanics of Erf.
“Excuse, the intrusive questions. We have to be through now a day. There was always a very small chance that a unit would pop wrong even in the old days. Random derangement or such. But with all the epic crap going on the Mainland, we HAVE to double check. Apparently either the Hamster or one of the Tools found a way to corrupt poppings. It is not clear who did it first. The safe money is on Hamster himself. But now it is common tactic in the Great War. A Ruler could pop a spy or assassin in his midst and not even know it until the middle night when the sleeper agent would leave Ruler's side and kill him in his sleep. Battlestrong lost our closest ally on the mainland that way. One day it was there, next day it was gone. You could have also been ‘programmed’ wrong using the corrupt pop methods. Popped with the belief you could fly and jump out a tower not realizing you can't fly.”
Aref opened the double door building that looked stone long house. “Here we are.”
Inside the building were some bookcases and some large tables. One of the tables covered with junk. There was even a pile of dirt and corpse on it. At one end of the table stood another one of the stern Viking guards. Aref gestured towards the junk laden table. “I want you to move along the table and interact with the things there. Just do what ever feels natural to you. There is no pressure. You will know when you are done with the task. I will be over there working on scrolls.” Aref pointed to a table that was nicely arranged with rolls of paper and ink. He moved over to the table. Once seated, he began to methodically work on the scroll. Chanting as he went.
Trance moved to the table. Demanding her attention, she started with the corpse. It was a little man stripped of his clothing. She studied it intently, lifted the limbs to get good look at it. She found a deep slash wound on his side. Very likely an ax had ended his life. After thoroughly examining the dead man, she moved on.
Next was a pile of rich, dark red soil. She ran her fingers through it briefly, and moved on.
Next was a mirror. She studied it intently. Using it to examine herself. Trance was like a child who had discovered mirrors for the first time. She proceeded to examine her body very intimately and with no shame. It was while she trying to see how far the white of her eyes went that she noticed the bandaged hand of the guard. She put the mirror down. “May I see your hand?” She spoke to the guard raised up his hand and she took it and took of the bandage. A long knife cut was revealed. “Moonbrooke” she intoned. Instantly the wound closed up and the redness of infection left. Trance looked up at guard with an ecstatic smile. The warm butterflies in her chest and stomach brought a surprised laugh to her lips. “I healed him!”
Aref looked up. “A natural healomancer. King Ramner will be pleased.”
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The rest of the day was spent testing Trance’s skill at healomancy. Unfortunately that required the poor guard to get beat up quite a bit. Aref would punch and cut the stoic infantry man and Trance would heal him. Every time, Aref hurt him, Trance would visibly flinch. For much of the rest of the turn and into the barbarian’s turn that day, the Three of them would work. Aref would make Trance cast using any spell she could think of.
As the sun was setting Trance stated that she felt like she was out of Juice.
“Impressive. You have an adept level skill at healomancy and have a good array of starting spells. You can treat wounds, poison, and disease. You first spell is capable of curing wounds and several detrimental effects at the same time.”
“What is your specialty?” Trance asked politely.
“I am a master class luckmancer. My natural specialty.” He said with a wink and smile. “I managed to pick up some apprentice level skills at thinkomancy and dollmancy before the Caster Gate War. Nothing very grand. I can send a few think-a-grams and fancy up your clothes.”
“Right now we are the only three casters on our side despite our large size. Pyro is a master class shockmancer with some thinkomancy training back in the capital of Steelholme and the only Norst tribe caster, period. The Norst tribe has never had good luck with popping casters. And King Ramner has especially been unlucky in that regard. They do produce some of the best warlords and men units around.”
“We will see tomorrow if you have any skill at my three fields also.”
A large horn blared over the city of Southron Gift. Trance’s stomach growled loudly.
“With that our day is over. The King likes to keep us on minimum upkeep. He likes to get his money’s worth out the Kebler elves. No auto popping of food. I am going to assign Steve here to be your bodyguard and assistant. He will show you to the mess hall were you can eat and then show you to your rooms. But first let’s get your outfitted.”
Aref lead Trance over to two large wardrobes and opened them. In one were several scrolls. In the other were some various types of armor, arms, and equipment. Aref pulled a satchel from the wardrobe and then began to hand her some scrolls. Most of them were various types of potent luckmancy and shockmancy plus two scrolls that could cast a think-o-gram.
“This one is the most important. Use it only to safe your life, or that of one of the royals.” Aref handed her scroll with dark green trim. “This a valuable Fade into the Background spell. It is a powerful Foolmancy spell that will allow you and several others to appear as ordinary part of your environment with Thinkomancy undertones that keep others from even wanting to look from you. It can last a whole day and night with some careful concentration. Until the King or the Sultana pop and level up a master class Eyemancer, we will not have another one of these anytime soon.”
Trance nodded timidly
“Scrolls, check. On to equipment.” Aref pulled out an iron staff that looked like an extra thick shepherd’s crook. “We got this off a chieftain of a hostile Altruist Elf tribe. We know it is enchanted with healomancy, in addition to being a pretty sturdy weapon. Unfortunately I and Pyro could not figure out much more than that. I think it’s more a buffing item than an invokable item. Maybe you will figure it out.”
“Take off your clothes, the stuff you popped with is worthless.” Ordered Aref.
Trance was a little taken back, but did as commanded. Aref took a lingering look, contemplating something. Steve politely turned his gaze. After an uncomfortable moment Aref reached in and pulled out a set of dark brown leather breeches with thin metal plates on the front, loose long sleeved shirt, and a red tabard. He handed them to Trance who put them on. With a simple spell, Aref quickly customized the outfit for her for maximum comfort and protection. Trance felt a little uncomfortable when Aref’s glowing finger tip ran up and down her frame to alter the outfit, but meekly let him do as he wished.
“We are all done here” Aref spoke. "I will see you tomorrow for more training; I have to report to the King."
With that Trance was left with Steve to go to mess hall.
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The mess hall was a build like a Viking mead hall and was just as stereotypically rambunctious. Inside the hall were several large tables laden with wooden cups full of mead, beer, and wine. The hall was filled with Norst men. Every one of them was especially large for a “man” unit. If they were any larger and they would be counted as heavy units. The room was also filled with riding bears and wolves. There were even a few lions with great manes. Norst men liked to tame wild animals in their down time. Taming a mount was considered a right of passage. Naturally every one of the King’s personal guards had tamed an especially fierce beast. The Norst men talked loudly and happily. They were clad in various raiments. Some wore traditional outfits of armor, axes, and furs. A good chunk wore the camo clothes like those of their king and princes at the heart of the hall. A few wore more exotic black leather outfits of a biker gang. The female members of the Norst tribe tended to wear outfits like their male counterparts, though their outfits tended to show off their oversized breasts.
Norst men were not the only the units in the hall. A few garrison dwawves were happily taking part in the meeting. There were also more than a few men of the Southron tribe. They were clad in outfits like Aref, like a Persian at a disco, but with wicked scimitars and bows. The hall also had lots of Kebler elves running about, replacing the chunks of meat and drink of the mess hall members. They were very short, about the size of a marbit, but with cute little green outfits. Nearly useless in battle, their true value was in their exceptional skill at mining, farming, and cooking. One Kebler elf could easily make up for his upkeep three times over with the savings he could provide on other units' upkeeps. They also could make special cookies that grant random buffs.
At the head table, Trance could see her sister sitting beside their king and enjoying the attention. The king and his several sons were happily discussing how they would destroy the barbarians soon. Trance noticed that a slightly rubenequese blond dressed like a valkrie on the other side of King Ramner was occasionally shooting Adela daggers when she thought no one was looking. When King Ramner noticed that Aref had entered, he banged his cup loudly with the hilt of his cup.
“Attention, everyone!” Room immediately went silent. “Aref today did what many considered impossible, even me! Since I started my own side with the passing of father, I have not popped one caster. The Titan’s will was that I have only the best warlords and men in all of Erf, but not one caster. Those of you from my early reign remember how hard that made our struggle against my brothers for my father’s lands until Pyro joined my side upon the final dissolving of my father’s side from old age. Long may be he remembered.”
“Long may he be remembered.” The crowd murmured respectfully.
“Aref then came to us from a less than ideal situation. We captured him when I and the Sultana united against his old ruler. Most casters would run off at the first chance they had after being captured. To suffer to constant slights to his honor would have crushed the spirit of most. But I saw he had a heart of steel. A heart of a true NORST!”
“NORST!!!” cried the Norst men in the hall. They were well rehearsed in what the rituals of their side.
Ramner paused to let the room still again. “Many turns ago, the Sultana and I exchanged cities as sign of our eternal alliance. I see it as only fitting that you run this Southron city. As a consequence I decided to name you Governor of Southron Gift. Furthermore, I am endowing you with 100,000 smuckers to build yourself a Caster’s Collective. I want you to attempt to pop more casters like our new adept level healomancer Trance Willow.” Ramner gestured to Trance. “Stand up so everyone so everyone can see you!” Trance rose timidly and then sat back down as soon as she thought it was appropriate to do so. “She is a pretty thing to boot isn’t she? Though hopefully the next will be Norst.” The crowd laughed blusterously. “Let's hear it for Governor Aref.” The crowd clapped and hooted, while Aref smiled and waved with false modesty. “In honor of our new governor I will let him pick the Royalism sermon of the night.”
Aref nodded solemnly “I think we should go with the Battle of Silenced Courage.” Trance instantly felt the room go cold. Every Norst glowered like he was ready the chew up his own axe. Most of the rest of seemed nearly as glowering. Trance felt a little confused. The sudden anger in the room was not focused at Aref even though he had caused it some how. Trance did not know what had made her side so angry, but she wanted to fix it . . . even if it meant hurting someone.
Ramner nodded. “A good choice in many ways. Artisian Serron, as the local Priest of the Divine Blood, please do us the honor”
Trance noticed that a man in a long leather apron stood up. His apron was covered with dust. Chisels and hammers poked out the pockets of the apron. His clothes were plain woolen affairs. His form had bulkiness not common to men of the Southron tribe though. His hair was tied back in a simple pony tail. He removed his apron and lovingly placed it down on his bench beside him. Trance could plainly see a gold chain around his neck with what looked like a ruby in a shape of large teardrop shape. It glimmered fiercely in the light of the room. He then jumped up on top of the table and began to pace. Trance was at a loss as to what was going on. Priests of the Divine Blood were not a part of the standard knowledge set of newly popped unit.
“Tonight, we have new units in our midst. You are not aware yet, but you popped into a fallen world. A world that has fallen from the grace originally instilled in it by our creators, the Titans. For you see log ago, non-royals forgot their place the natural order of our world. The first was the devious and unscrupulous Charlie with his Arkendish. Charlie was the snake the garden of our innocence. He cloaked himself in lies. He took on the appearance of a subservient mercenary. He cowed and fawned over those great royals and lulled them into a false sense of security. If those trusting kings had followed their titanic mandate and destroyed the pretender, the world would have never fallen. The next was the rampaging Stanley with his Arkenhammer. He came on to the scene, taking advantage the groundwork laid by his elder. The final was the worst. Wanda the Seducer with her Arkenpliers. Each had stolen their arkentools and thought themselves greater than the Titans. They all murdered their own Royal Rulers. The three set out to conquer the whole of Erf. However the Kings of that age were great and once they realized the unholy objectives of the Three, they sought to destroy them. The Three realized they were losing, and they had had stepped out line. However rather than realize the hubris of the actions they sought even great sins against the natural order of the Titans. Using the power of their three arkentools they summoned an outsider from beyond the world. The Hamster was the greatest of the unholy outsiders and he answered their call. Long had he looked on Erf with covetous eyes, jealous of the Titans and their great work. When he entered the world, it was broke. He unleashed his unholy powers and destroyed the collation of royals that defied the Three. What he touched was corrupted and lost its place in the natural order.”
“Beware the Tools wielders. They think themselves Titans merely because they play with the abandoned tools the Titans no longer needed. Toolism is against Royalism, the proper worship of the Titans. For them and their followers, the City of Heroes is forever barred.”
“Beware the Hamster. His promise of Liberty is a lie. He is an outsider who seeks to break this world for his own enjoyment. He seeks to strip from you your loving Royals and the cities of your creation. He will cast you into wilderness. He will cast you into solitude. And he will laugh while he watches you die, alone and forever barred from the City of Heroes. He will drag you immortal soul down to the Plains of Solitude. Here you will be forever alone, and in pain from wounds that never heal.”
“This tale comes from shortly after the croaking of the Prophet, King Slately. After the croaking of Prophet Slately and his side, the Hamster led his army of the Three. For in those days he was still held by the powerful magicks that had summoned him. As his army looked for more men to sacrifice to Wanda the Seducer, he found that the land was empty. All sides had been decrypted, croaked, or enslaved near their side. However over a great mountain range that not even Charlie’s archons could pass were more lands to pillage. These lands did not believe the stories of the Three and the Hamster and would be easy prey. But one brave little kingdom guarded the only pass though this mountain range. Hamster attacked them, and for first time he knew defeat. The units of this side kept the holy words of the Prophet close to their heart and were blessed by the Titans for it. Hamster could not overcome their courage and determination. So the Hamster schemed to steal their courage and determination.
“Hamster called upon his high priestess and lover Maggie. Maggie was a great thinkomancer and had fallen for the charms of Hamster early on. Corrupting the pleasure of sex, Hamster corrupted this succor granted by the Titans and turned it into a foul act that caused pain and humiliation. And he visited this pain upon his lover Maggie several times. From between Maggie’s legs were “birthed” casters covered in blood, mucus, and feces. An abomination of the natural act of popping. And as they grew they added to Hamster’s power. Two of these unnatural children were chosen. Both were great hippiemancers. Together they linked with the mother the Befouled. What they unleashed was a Stilling that stretched for dozens of hexes. It snuffed out the will to fight of all that were in the mountain kingdom. The animals of the kingdom grew so still that they quit breathing and died in moments. The men of the kingdom sat down and did not fight as they were shackled and shipped in mass to Wanda the All Consuming. Only when the Hamster snatched the King’s own crown from his head and mockingly ground it to dust before his eyes did the spell break. But by then it was too late. Much of his kingdom was shackled and being carried away. With a prayer to the Titans he hurdled himself off his battlements and into the raging river below. His corpse carried away on the swift currents. The Titans saw fit to carry his prayer to his heir. His heir carried the account of the Hamster’s actions to the other sides and as the hordes of the Three spilled into the pristine land, the naïve Royals realized the wisdom of the Prophet’s message.”
The room was deeply moved. The Norst ground their teeth in fury over the stolen opportunity to fight like men. Tears welled in their eyes, but stoically not coming forth. The Southrons stared at the ground to hide their faces. Like the Kebler elves, Trance was crying very fiercely and openly. A large damp spot was on her sleeves from mopping up so many tears. The though of a whole kingdom dying helplessly had touched her deeply.
Shortly afterward the formal festivities ended.
