Monday, September 3, 2012

The Parsifal Quest: Blue Moonlight Madness

Finn sat at the café, trying with questionable success, to remain at ease. He had little tolerance for anyone or anything that hindered him. Tonight, he would possess something which had eluded him for more years than he cared to contemplate.

Sipping the dregs of his chai, he raised his cup in a mock salute to the recently-departed and hardly-lamented Gaius. While he may have been a thoroughly deplorable specimen of humanity, in death, he’d redeemed himself in Finn’s opinion. Within his briefcase rested the Parsifal Necklace.

Even through the layers of steel and rich Corinthian leather, Finn could feel its lure, beckoning him to make use of it. Soon, my impatient ally, he thought to it. His brow furrowed, realizing he would need all of the Necklace’s not inconsiderable assistance as well as the lethal Fang of Osiris to stand any chance tonight.

He was drawn from his contemplation by the insipid Muzak issuing from the café’s music system. As if he needed reminders from the warbling of musicians to remind him tonight would be a blue moon, he thought irritably. Millennia of arcane exposure had attuned him to the phases of celestial force with an innate sureness requiring no confirmation.

That moon would add to his chances of success inestimably. Still and all, a few snatches of the music did give him pause to consider. He would be, in the most literal sense, standing alone. Human or arcane allies, he had in plentitude, but the mere act of summoning them might tip his hand to the one he sought.  At this juncture, such warning might prove most detrimental.

Gazing about, he stopped when he saw the pair of avant garde sculptures. Fashioned from scrap metal and, what appeared to be, machine parts they took the form of two immense dogs. They had a sinister mien that appealed to Finn’s darker nature.

Rising, he strolled over to peruse them in greater detail. He had no fear his inspection would elicit any reaction from passers-by. When forced to go about by daylight, he cloaked himself such that those about him simply failed to note his existence.

Upon further perusal, he decided the duo might provide an edge he could well use. He reached within and stoked the core of energy there, allowing force to slowly trickle out.
In a whisper, he intoned the words of an impromptu spell. “Canus deux metallicus, attend to my behest. Come forth and do my bidding and fulfill what I request. Give true and faithful service and rewards you both shall know. Arise my new-found servants and, together, we shall go.”

For what seemed an eternity, nothing happened whatsoever. Then, slowly…ponderously...the sculptures rose and stepped towards him with a cacophony of rending shrieks and groans. They came to rest a few feet in front of him and waited.

He enveloped them within his sphere of obfuscation and with sure and certain strides, went to confront she who held what he now most desired…the Parsifal Spearhead.

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