SAVING BOSTON PART 1: The Search for Spellbound

Victoria couldn’t sleep. 2 weeks had passed but the images kept replaying in her mind. She remembered watching the tv as the world went mad. Millions of people died at the whims of some psychopathic “hero” trying to save the day. The blinding light as the “hero” essentially nuked London. All for what, to stop a villain who caused far less harm? Madness.

There was also the fallout in Las Vegas as well. It was nowhere near as horrific as London, but still…Lives were lost due to the whims of madmen with powers far beyond controllable. It seemed every day the world went madder.

‘You could have stopped this.’ Her guilt told her for the thousandth time. ‘You could have saved them but you didn’t. You didn’t try.’

She knew it wasn’t her fault but it was right. She had access to possibly the most powerful piece of technology in the world…But also the most dangerous. She’d only used the suit once to deliver retribution on Lightyear and the fight was frighteningly easy. If she was able to toss around one of the most dangerous people on the planet then she could have easily made a difference in these tragedies…But she was worried about what that kind of power would do to her. She saw time and time again how people with superpowers would always abuse them, no matter if they claimed to be a “hero” or not. Simply put, people were not meant to be able to cause such destruction.

She knew she wasn’t a good person at heart. She wasn’t good at talking things over like her sister, nor did she really care to know people. When confronted with a problem, her first idea was to power through it and bulldoze her way to a solution. What kind of person would she become if she allowed herself to use the suit more? Still…For all the “heroes” in the world, they all failed London, failed Las Vegas. In a world where the watchers are corrupt and cause more harm than the “evil”, they defend against…Who watches the watchers?

A resolve settled in Victoria as she pondered that question. She wasn’t a hero and would never claim to be but she simply cannot allow this to continue. She couldn’t save those already lost but she could do something about the now.

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

A lone figure in elven armor stared at the obsidian monolith. Swirling nebulas of stars and cosmic dust glittered as elven calligraphy shined through the edges of their armor. The figure frowned as she ran her hand over the smooth surface of the memorial.

‘Yet more reason to fix this.’ Victoria mused.

She had been in Boston, or what is now Eugenia, for the past 2 days. Having resolved to help the world, she figured Boston was the best place to start. After all, it had been overrun with wanton power abuse. Some sort of cosmic dice had been used to turn all of Boston into some strange fantasy land you’d expect from a videogame or fantasy novel. The most unsettling change was of the thousands of people forcibly transformed against their will. Many were changed physically into Orks, Elves, and dwarves, and many more were changed mentally to conform to this new world of magic. Vampires ruled over Eugenia and most certainly preyed on the innocent like livestock. Not to mention some sort of fanatical cult called the Ofrarian Church acting as the state militia enforcing these changes.

Entering Eugenia had changed her physically, but thankfully not mentally, or at least she hoped. Even her armor was not immune to the change as it took on a more fantastical appearance. Regardless of her change, she spent this time exploring the new landscape, learning what she could about what happened and who was to blame. Some guy named Eugene had done all this and no one knew where he was. The only lead she had was of some kind of magical book somewhere called “Spellbound” that could track him down. Where that book is…She only had a general idea.

Between the magical monsters, vampire lords, and a fanatical church, she found her confidence tested. Once she made her move, she was sure Eugenia would fight back with everything it had but she would save these people and revert these changes. For now, she would take a bit more time and narrow down that lead to Spellbound before she acted. She continued paying her respects as she thought about what to do next.

Gearhead sat in his shop working on his latest commission from The Mad God that hangs around his shop more than he does. As he starts to get the coding board for the flame controls done, he finds himself glancing up at the gear he had mounted on the wall. Though he wasn't technically retired from active hero work, he still missed the days he spent more time out there patrolling the city he loved and fighting those who dare spit in its image.

Memories of him running through the city flashed through his mind. His everyday job of Him shocking Villains, cracking really bad one-liners, and occasionally having to fight some dude who screamed a lot about "DANGER!" Felt almost years in the past. His mind jumped around until he landed on a more recent one. He sees himself running around before he spins around to see a figure in a red mask staring back at him. A smile forms across his face as the figure slowly approaches him and blows a puff of smoke in his face.

a loud noise rings for a second as Gearhead starts to cough. Suddenly finding himself laying on the floor of his workshop, tubes overhead finish spraying his area with some kind of cold powder so thick he can barely see in front of him. as the overhead fans kick on and start to suck out all the smoke, James felt disappointed in himself as he saw the now charred eyewear sitting on his desk. "I guess I'm gonna have to tell Puff I need more time.....again." he thought to himself as he toss the eyewear into the garbage.

As the fans switched off, his Tv came roaring to life as "Breaking News" flashed across his screen. James rolled his eyes as he saw it was another news report on the "Plight of the people of Boston." A story he never understood why anyone seems so addicted to. The whole thing seemed like such a null issue, Fantasy settings always bring the crowds and magic is awesome. looking back up, he saw a dragon person run up to the camera and howl at the news reporter before they shot a breath of acid causing the feed to go dead. A smirk rolled across his face as an idea popped into his head. "I wonder if this could use a more....modern touch?" he thought to himself. "the city itself might not need the most help but the people certainly could use it." Gearhead quickly ran up and grabbed his gear off the wall. Next stop, the fantasy land of Eugenia.

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

Lightning struck a wall as a figure came leaping through it. Looking around, he quickly smoothed his jacket as he continued to walk down the now-abandoned street. the feeling of magic lightning running through his veins and a determination to keep going is the only thing keeping him alive in this land.

"Note to self" Gearhead spoke softly to himself "don't fuck with the gray wizards until I can learn what a 'Lighting carnacopia' is." Though he was certain they were no longer trying to find him, he didn't want to risk it as they were very determined to not let him pass through their turf.

Though he had only been in Eugenia for a couple of days by this point, He was starting to get a grasp on what exactly the city had become since the big transformation that caused all of this. The gangs seem to be the same but just colored and run differently than before. If it wasn't for his friend Puff, he was pretty certain he would be dead by now at the hands of something called a 'Chitine' but Puff was able to deal with it quickly. He only wishes Puff would have stayed with him instead of, and I quote, "spotted a nice looking Flame lady' and 'ran off to create some sparks.' So it looked to be that James Ashford would have to learn to control this new version of his powers on his own.

Though he never dressed poorly at home, Gearhead was certainly getting used to his new digs. Ever since stepping foot into the city, his black and yellow jumpsuit has changed into a sleek black and yellow Suit set with a black overcoat. His High-tech goggles gave been replaced with very standard pair of goggles with the interesting twist of a built-in steam-powered magnifying glass machinery. The biggest change is that his weapon, which was A metal baseball bat before, is now a metal club with a lightning-bolt emblem sticking out at the bottom of the grip. The biggest surprise though is how the hell he hasn't gotten any of it dirty quite yet.

As he rounded the corner, he spotted the only hope he had left for his quest. He looked down to the street to see the monolith of a tribute he had heard so much about. "Maybe, just maybe, I will be saved there." He thought to himself as he started to pick up the pace. As he got closer and closer, his hope could only increase as the idea of actually meeting someone who can help filled him with nothing but joy. Before he knew it, he had increased his pace to a full-on sprint. Puff be damned, he was ready to prove himself once and for all.

Michael looked out at the street below the safehouse he was currently residing him, taking a large swig of a bottle of Macallan No.6, feeling the alcohol subside the pain from many bruises he had sustained. He had swiped the bottle after a rather brutal and violent raid on a Mafia Dons private mansion. The Don had previously obtained, through very illegal means, a priceless jeweled hair piece, belonging to a foreign Lords family, and held high importance to their culture.  

Michael, not one miss sticking it to the criminals of his beloved city, went after the heirloom, which meant fighting through waves of Mafia thugs, a couple of generals, and the Boss himself, who proved to be capable of handling his own, being damn near seven foot and 300lbs of muscle.  

But, in the end, no civilians got hurt, the heirloom is back with it’s family, and Michael made off with a unopened bottle of $5,000 single malt.  

Which is more than he can say for London, millions confirmed dead and rising, with just as many casualties, and a massive crater in the center of the city.  

Michael shook his head as he watched the news report, taking another swig of liquor. Another “hero”, taking the easiest path to victory, regardless of the lives lost in the process. He set the bottle on the nightstand by the bed, looking over his weapons and gear, which he had placed out on the bed in an organized display.  

He didn’t have time to sit back and mourn, for him, there was always another war to wage, another fight to be had.  

He made sure there were no open wounds, before putting a new shirt on. He then grabbed the pistols, checking them over, making sure they were primed and ready, before holstering them. After getting suited back up, Michael took one last, huge swig of No.6, preparing for whatever war comes next.  

Sometime Later:  

It didn’t matter if it was modern day, or some high fantasy realm, crime and corruption was everywhere. In one of the many back alleys, an armed half-orc thug stumbled as he tried to race for the main road, desperately seeking escape from something, hoping being surrounded by others would somehow grant him sanctuary.  

He never got a chance to find out, for as his objective came into view, a pair of hands grabbed onto his tunic, dragging him out of view and into a secluded part of the alleys, with no other exit beside the one a figure was now blocking.  

“Do you know who you’re messing with!!??” The thug snarled to the figure, realizing he only had one way out of this, as he drew his short sword. “My boss will have your head!!” He charged at the figure, swinging the sword high.  

Warden greeted the attack with a firm spartan kick into the abdomen of the thug, forcing him back a solid five feet, and onto his back, gasping desperately for air. “Someone told me you had some information on how to find the man responsible for all of this...” He walked over to the thug, pressing his foot onto the sword hand, forcing him to let go of his weapon. “And let’s just say I’m interested...” He reached down, pulling the Half-Orc back to his feet. “Now I suggest you start talking, before I send you back to your boss in a full body cast!”  

The thug finally caught his breath, looking into the eye slots of the visored barbute helmet, the blue eyes glaring back reflected in the dim light, giving the illusion that they were glowing. “Look, okay, about month ago, I was at the tavern, and one of the scribes came in, sat down beside me...” He winced as he talked, realizing he definitely had a broken rib or two. “The guy starts drinking, and gets chatty, a few pints in, and he tells me some crazy story about a magical book here in the city...” He paused, trying to gauge Wardens reaction, though it was hard to due with the helmet. “Anyway, apparently this book can be used for a lot of things, including tracking down the nerd that did this to us!!”  

“And where is this book??”  

“Nobody knows, it was just a superstitious rumor man!!”  

“Thank you for the information...” Warden released the Thug from his grip, nodding to the exit. “Now get the hell out of here, before I change my mind.”  

Without hesitating, the Half-Orc scrambled for his short sword, sheathing it at he made a run for it, immediately hunting down the nearest healer.

Warden strolled out onto the main street a few seconds later, only slightly closer to his goal, but still, progress was progress. As he looked around at the busy houses and shops, his eye caught the monolith. He had been so focused on the mission, he hadn’t stopped to check it out. But something compelled him to today, as he made his way over.  

There were others there already, a woman, in some kind of magical armor, and someone who looked like they came from a steampunk convention.  

Though, Warden couldn’t really judge someones attire, his own tactical gear had shifted into some form of lightweight plated armor, and his custom energy pistols, replaced by what appeared to be magic-imbued Flintlocks.  

As he stared at the monolith, reading the names inscribed on the stone, he was reminded of his mission here.  

The level of power that was used to create this place must be secured, and out of reach of any tom, dick, or jane that could misuse it.  

Warden had to make sure this could never happen to any other city.

THE PREPARATION

Whaltam – Private Property

When she had heard that Boston had remained an altered reality point (or so she theorized), Sage returned frequently to the outskirts of Boston to conduct studies and observations, having acquired a property in nearby obscure Waltham. A sizable donation to the sleepy town and some weeks after the incident, and Sage finds herself a comfortable abode with a view of the Charles River, where she could conduct studies and observations, while working on her various projects of interest.

In the spacious garage turned carriage house, Sage and her various servant clockwork automatons prepped three carriages, loading them with potted plants. The calm was broken when the air crackled and atop the carriage, a certain malevolent little witch materialized.

“Helloooooooo Boston! Dabbler IZ in the HOUSE!” she said, Dabbler feeling the need to make a massive entrance. She looked about excitedly, seeing all the plants being loaded. She also spied Sage in a new black and gold ensemble. “Hey Four Spices, Nice bath robe.”

Without skipping a beat, Sage placed a potted plant in its holder in the carriage. “Did you make the observations I asked?”

The witch sat down on the carriage’s roof, pulling a mars bar out of her witch hat. She opened it and began masticating loudly, to Sage’s quiet annoyance. She even spoke through a full mouth, truly a villain without scruples. “I mean… I’m basically a… you know… some of my candy turned into rations… I couldn’t use my phone… Typical of our predictions, reality does a kerfuffle about when you cross the Charlie River past the quarantine checkpoint.”

“Then we will need to investigate the source more closely.” Sage remarked, inspecting her plants rather than look at the witch.

Dabbler though, planked on the roof of the carriage, looking at Sage upside down, her hat staying on her head. “Yeah, trying to explore deeper into Boston put a real wrinkle in my hoppity-hoppity. I stopped trying when I poofed into some invisible barrier, like someone was trying to swat me away. You’ll have more luck going on foot. Or, in your case, that dirt surfy thing you do.”

“Agreed. The old ways are best. Requisition what supplies you need. We shall conduct surveys, collect samples, perhaps find clues to the source of the phenomena.” Sage offered the most exciting prospect of investigation.

Dabbler though, yawned at the prospect of gathering such mundane information.“Boooring. We already did Boston, why, I felt like we did so much there! saved a bunch of people, got you a nice little angel bug niece. we should go somewhere new! Pawtucket! Or Providence! I wanna go find Lovecraft’s grave! see if he was buried with the Necronomicon!”

Sage let out a tired sigh. Of course, the witch would find a study unstimulating. “I will go alone then, if the prospect of visiting the same place twice will cause your death by tedium.” Sage paused and had a thought. She would loathe to return to more news of Dabbler terrorizing the town... for the ‘funzies’. “You have run of the house while I am gone.”

At that, the witch perked up. She stood and gobbled the last of her chocolate bar. “I’m gonna start a big bubble bath in the Bathtorium!” Dabbler disappears in a puff of smoke, to make a mess of things here rather than in town.

“The proper term is Thermae… nevermind.” Sage sighs and opens the carriage doors, and boarded the one with a Construct driver.

THE ARRIVAL

Sage traveled east by way of Boston College, near where she had built her monument to this calamitous event, by automaton horse-drawn carriage. Her manufacture of automatons had borne fruit, and the sight of a regal black and gold carriage pulled by metal horses certainly drew a few curious eyes. An alarmingly common occurrence were random encounters in this land, and Sage was no exception. Her gold gilded carriages attracted an ambush at a bridge crossing into Eugenia proper.
From the bushes they emerged, surrounding the caravan. A band of the fantasy staple, the orc. Armed and armored brigands. Behind them, chained up, kept at bay with whips, was a massive, bulbous troll, who picked his nose in blissful ignorance.
The lead orc approached, brandishing his spiked club weapon menacingly. In a crude, barbarous tone, he declared, “I am Krom Two-Shanks, and I own this bridge. There's a troll toll: Pay the toll, or feed the troll. 100 gold.”

Sage continued sketching her observations into her notebook. Without even looking up from her work she asked in an irritated tone, “why have we stopped?”

“Brigands, my lady. They have surrounded our caravan and are attempting to extort us. How will you handle this?” The caretaker responded, matter-of-factly, the gravity of the situation lost on the automaton.

Sage’s expression does not change. She looks at the gathered ne’er-do-wells and found them tedious waste of time. Still, she was not in the mood to lose the plants she prepared for the monument.  She nonchalantly tosses them a pouch, which dramatically spills shining gold coins onto the grass. A couple of the green skinned brigands happily scooped it up. The two Orcs who barred Sage’s way did not uncross their spears.

“Hundred gold per carriage.” They said, chuckling. Two more tinkling bags landed on the grass, drawing more eyes and attention. The bandits, realizing they’d struck a fortune, quickly come together to begin counting their collected toll, not minding Sage quickly departing.

“We should’ve robbed here on the spot!”

“Ah who cares! We can live like fookin’ kings now!”

“We can always go find her and rob her again.”

But once Sage’s entourage was well out of sight and range, the transmutation wore off and the coins reverted to simple scrap metal. It wouldn’t take long for the bandits and their troll begin quarreling among themselves. Their leader calmed down the band and refocused their anger.

“This is all that witch’s fault! Let’s go find her!”

THE MONUMENT

An ache had bothered Niao for the past few minutes. She rubbed her temple and realized she had involuntarily grown horns on her head. A reflective mirror confirmed that re-entering Boston had made some small changes in her nature.

Sage and her procession arrived via the main road into the Boston college area, where the monument was erected. Her carriages came to a halt; the horses, cold and mechanical, had a precise, synchronized gait, and how they stopped resembled a clockwork machine than real animals. Perhaps eerie to witness. A small crowd of curious individuals had gathered here, perhaps to pay respects. Perhaps to pick at the gold inlay of the graves.

They were all armed and armored, and seemed capable of handling themselves. Mercenaries? Adventurers? Tourists, however unlikely?

The carriage mechanisms deploy steps, allowing Sage to disembark from her lead carriage. Perhaps on purpose or by coincidence she was still on an elevated plant box, as otherwise her regal entrance would be trivialized by her diminutive stature compared to the rest. She gestured the caretaker to begin unloading the plants from the other carriages.

The driver-also-caretaker, was a clockwork being with only the barest parody of a face, two specks of arcane green light denoting eyes with a body of glass, containing arcane clockwork mechanisms. Where the animated horses moved coldly and machine like, the inhuman caretaker had a far too eerily human gait. Yet, his purpose here was the most mundane- to play a potted plant at each grave, one by one. The plants easily slot into a shallow depression, and the colorful flora gave the mostly obsidian monument area a splash of color.

“Welcome, and greetings, visitors. I am Sage. I did not anticipate that this place would see many who would come to pay respects while the Boston area remained transformed. Please, sit.” She raised a few benches from the solid ground in front of her, so they could come together and converse better. The stone was simple gray rock, but eerily smooth with a dull sheen, like polished for weeks on end. With but a gesture the geomancer had conjured it from the very ground.

“I would like to hear what purpose has brought strangers into Eugenia.”

‘Huh?’ Victoria thought as she turned towards whatever commotion was going on. In the distance was what looked to be a man coming towards her in a deadman’s sprint. His various belongings clingings and rattling as he ran like he was on a mission.

Arguably the most dangerous thing about Eugenia is how everything was weird, usually in the more dangerous sense. A frog can shoot lightning from its mouth, chickens can summon hordes of chickens when provoked, and even cats now had lethal claws that can kill people. With all that in mind, seeing a strangely dressed, even strange for the new norm, sprinting towards her, was cause for concern.

The world shuddered around her as her armor activated. Everything slowed down to a crawl before becoming motionless as if frozen in time, losing its color as it all turned to varying shades of gray. While her armor didn't quite have time manipulation, it could create incredibly strong gravitational forces that everything around her was slowed down to the point that even time crawled.

Victoria walked through a world of silence, stepping around birds mid-flight and on top of puddles of water that dotted the crude dirt path. She couldn’t keep up this pace forever, or else her suit overheats, but there was no harm in doing it conservatively.

She inspected the weird man, noting his steampunk get-up and his metal club and there were scorch marks on his coat as if he had been set on fire or blasted with lightning. He had a look of relief and panic which didn’t make sense if he was some bandit trying to rob her. Dismissing the thought she wondered if he was running from something.

Walking down the street she found what the issue was. 5 men with anger on their faces and staffs, wands, and spellbooks in hand crackling with power. All of them were frozen mid-stride, obviously chasing after the steampunk man. She wasn’t sure what exactly the man did to piss off the others but she had been attacked 6 times in the last week by gangs and brigands so it wasn’t far-fetched to assume more of the same.

Taking a moment, she removed the men of their weapons and bound them in rope from a nearby stable. With that out of the way, she went back to her original spot and time resumed again with none the wiser of what she did.

Victoria watched on as the steampunk man ran to the memorial but also noticed a knight-looking fellow approach as well. Not as concerning as the steampunk man since he wasn’t running for his life but still, she made a note of the flintlocks he was carrying. No doubt transformed by Eugenia.

She was back in her thoughts of what to do when she saw yet another person arrive at the memorial. ‘Busy time.’ She mused. The last person came in a big showy carriage with mechanized horses. They were also some sort of dragon/human hybrid with horns jutting out of her head.

“Welcome, and greetings, visitors. I am Sage. I did not anticipate that this place would see many who would come to pay respects while the Boston area remained transformed. Please, sit. I would like to hear what purpose has brought strangers into Eugenia.” They said.

Eyeing the others, Victoria decided it wouldn't hurt to sit and talk with this dragon lady. She was obviously some kind of noble and was probably around here when everything change. Maybe she’d know more about what happened and where Spellbound might be.

“Mind telling me what happened here? It would help me figure out what went wrong.” Victoria asked the dragoness.

Sitting down on one of the newly created benches she adjusted her armor waiting for an answer and to see what the other 2 did.

James made it to the memorial before he fell to his knees trying to catch his breath.
"I...Should...Of been....jogging more...on my...Lunchbreak." he was able to spit out as he slowly got back to his feet. Looking around, He finally noticed the three people standing near the same structure he was aiming for. He quickly lifted up his goggles to get a better look at them. Adjusting his jaw and rubbed his ears but pulled away as he notices his ears are pointed. "that's a new feature, Guess I'm not looking fully like my normal self at the moment."

“Welcome, and greetings, visitors. I am Sage. I did not anticipate that this place would see many who would come to pay respects while the Boston area remained transformed. Please, sit.” Rang in James' ear as he was lost in thought. Quickly snapping back to reality but seeing as gravity still stands, James gripped his club tighter and slowly made his way over and sat down on one of the benches. He glanced over at the fourth guy standing by himself, dude looked deep in thought. "Is that What I look like when I do that?" James thought to himself, the thought alone made him cringe a little. He looked back up at the horned person and remembered the question they asked. He could only think to lay back and looked up to the sky as he debated the question. Before he could think of a response, he heard the one in the strange yet interesting armor speak up with “Mind telling me what happened here? It would help me figure out what went wrong.” A simple question with an answer so complex it would be much more fun to speculate than to answer outright. James knew he had to throw in his two cents.

"If I remember what I heard, you could argue it started around the time a bunch of drunk idiots decided to throw a bunch of tea into the nearby Harbor." James looked at the other two with a half smile slapped onto his face. A tiny chuckle slipped out from behind his teeth as he couldn't hold it back anymore.  "sorry sorry, You walked into that one.....A person who I haven't learned their name yet. Guess I need to work on my Electrifying personality." as he finished the pun, he held his hand up and snapped his fingers causing a tiny spark to flash. While he was able to keep a sly smile on the outside, on the inside James was applauding himself on that good pun for once.

So many lives, now just names on slab of obsidian.  

“Welcome, and greetings, visitors. I am Sage. I did not anticipate that this place would see many who would come to pay respects while the Boston area remained transformed. Please, sit.”

Warden was pulled out of his own thoughts, as someone had decided to break the silence, and acknowledge him.  

He was thankful for his face being covered by the visored barbute helmet, for he couldn’t help but give a smirk.  

While she had traded a Hello Kitty jacket for what looked like a very expensive black and gold ensemble, and had grown horns, Warden recognized the small woman he had met in Alaska many years ago. Though, while he was fortunate that the years have been kind to his ruggish looks, Sage looked the exact same as she did the night they fought off a zombie virus.  

Given her current draconic features, it was obvious why.  

“I would like to hear what purpose has brought strangers into Eugenia.”

Warden prepared to speak up, but the other woman in the magic armor sat down first, asking her question.  

“Mind telling me what happened here? It would help me figure out what went wrong.”

He decided to hold his question, letting the woman take the lead on this one.

She didn’t get a chance to get far, as a sudden caravan of steel carriages had bullied their way down the streets, surrounding the monolith.  

From the largest carriage, parked directly in front of the group, a massive Half-giant stepped out, dressed in a nice suit, though not nearly as expensive as Sages. “So, been hearing about some bastard running around, and beating my hard-working men to a bloody pulp...” He spoke out, his voice booming throughout the town square.  “My men protect this square, and if someone's taking them out, well...” He pulled a rather large cigar from inside his jacket, cutting off the ends with a cutter he produced in the other hand. “That’s just bad for everyone.”

“There he is, Boss...” Even with his face swollen, and covered in bandages, the Warden recognized the Half-Orc that was currently pointing directly at him. “That’s the guy.”  

“Ah shit.” Warden muttered under his breath, as more thugs began to fill the town square, filing out of the carriages the moment the Half-Orc confirmed his attackers face, or, at least, the helmet,  

The big boss locked eyes with Warden as he lit his cigar, raising a brow. “So, you the thug that did this to my boy??”

Warden could only shrug, while replying. “I asked your man a question, and he didn’t answer...” He was already in deep, no point lying. “My next option was to persuade him...” He rolled his shoulders, taking a step forward. “And I can be very persuasive.” He counted a good thirty men surrounding them, each one drawing a weapon ranging from clubs to swords.  

The big boss looked to the others. “I suggest the rest of you make your way clear from here, while me and my boys teach this little punk a lesson is respect.”  

“I’d take his offer...” Warden cracked his neck, preparing to make a move. “Things are about to get messy.”

[Sage explains to the best of her knowledge what had occurred using]

Sage took in the newcomers’ responses and surmised that only she was the returnee here, and possibly the only one with the slightest clue what had happened. She did not grasp the historical reference about Boston, giving James only a confused look. The USA as a Nation did not yet exist when she last walked the Earth. She turned to Victoria, to answer her question. “Very Well… To be brief, Boston is no longer quite Boston, but some amalgam of another reality.”

Sage pulled one of her long sleeves to reveal her hand and forearm, and waved it over a pit of fine sand. The sand slowly began to animate to Sage’s narration. “From what I am told. A man of this earth was responsible for this transformation. His name is Eugene – his powers, near godlike.” Sage formed a ‘dark wizard’ figure in the diorama from a black sand, animating him like a terrible dark lord.

“By means yet unknown, Eugene changed it all into his personal domain. His power radiated out and all was altered to suit his whims.” Sage sends out a ripple across the white sand, transforming the Boston diorama into black sand Eugenia. “I came to this place months before to investigate, but alas I had my own trials to overcome, and had to flee… but not before placing a suitable tribute to the victims.”

Sage changed the whole diorama to that of the evil wasp folks battling her party from before, complete with animations of her companions’ abilities. “Many innocents were lost but, I had sworn to return and right this anomaly.” And, investigate this power for myself, Sage thought, concluding her real time presentation.

Sage once more asked the new arrivals. “So again, what brings you all to Boston Eugenia? Perhaps introductions are in order.”

[Sage confronts the bandits]

Sage’s story time comes to an end, and enter the thugs led by a massive leader. Sage sees them stomping about the monument, brandishing weapons and singling out Warden for some previously.

Contrary to his threat, the tiny Sage interposed herself between Warden and his pursuers. In the manner of a disappointed school teacher, she berates them for trudging into this beautiful place she’d built.

“Have you no manners, no decency? You dare to bare weapons in this resting place of the dead? There’ll be no violence while I draw breath here.” Sage reached out with her mind and her magic, sensing abundance of metal weapons in their possession. At her rising gesture, said weapons leapt from their hands and holsters and were held up high above them, the sharp edge now pointed down on them.

Sage approached the half-giant leader after this display of dominance, standing a healthy five paces away and addressed him. She looked him straight in the eye, as if they were the same size. “You tend this place? YOU? Tend to this place? I am gone mere weeks, and the gardens are overgrown with weeds. Trash and excrement are scattered about, the tomb stones are dusty. This is most unacceptable.”  

“Regardless, Giant, I will let your deficiency slide, if you answer a single question for me, and I expect a good answer. Where can I find Eugene?”

The giant boss, Cliff, glanced at the swords, knives, and clubs hovering above him and his boys.  While his men could be heard muttering in fear at the display of magic the diminutive mage used, Cliff took a puff of his cigar before staring down at the mage.

"Always something about a bloody wizard these days." He shook his head disapprovingly.

"Don't care about you or your little art show here. My crew makes sure things are nice and quiet around 'ere. Hire a bloody maid if you care that much about rocks."

He took another drag of his cigar before shrugging.

"It's not a wise idea to use magic around 'ere, mate. The Vamps don't take kindly to magic one bit. They can smell it like a drunk smells booze."

He smiled down at Sage and glanced at the other strangers.

"You don't seem daft and my issues are with the bloke there." He points at Warden. "If it makes you fuck off then I have no idea who Eugene is, honest on me mum's life.."

Cliff takes another drag and cracks his neck.

"Now fuck off and let me and my boys show what happens to those who think they can fuck with us."
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Elsewhere some time ago...

Count Astriac Nez Mazakilian of House Mazakilian stared out at the expanse of the city with a look of boredom on his gaunt face. He idly drummed his fingers on a table before suddenly sitting up straight, looking alert. He took a deep breath and smelled the air as a slight smile crossed his face.

'My, my, my, been ages since I found a strong enough drink. '

Donning his coat he vanished from sight as he took off in search of whatever smelled so delicious.

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'Hmm.' He crouched down and ran his gloved hand over the cobblestone road. 'Oh yes, they must have been right here...But the trail is all but disappeared. Mages and their silly teleports.' Count Astraic sniffed the air before looking off into the distance.

He followed the scent as it led him deeper into the city. Finally, he spotted what he at first thought was his walking juice box but no, it was nowhere near as intense of a smell as what he hunted. It was some human wearing a gaudy black and yellow suit with fancy-looking goggles. They were currently in a tavern annoying the wenches. While the human didn't smell as good as what he was really after, he still had the lingering smell of his prize on him.

Chances were good that whoever this was, they kept in contact with his prey given how long the smell has stuck on him.  

The vampire considered his options. He could just barge in and just break the human's bones until they spilled where to go next...Or he could follow along and see where things go. After all, he wasn't in much of a hurry and it's been ages since he stalked a mage. Who knows? Maybe there was some sort of secret mages guild out there for him to deal with.

Nodding to himself he decided to have a bit of fun and follow this silly little human and see where it goes.

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Count Astraic was surprisingly pleased with how things were turning out. He had been following the human for the last few days and it was none the wiser. It had all been fairly boring stuff, just seeing the human get himself into trouble time and time again but it had been so worth it.

He watched as the human was chased by a group of other humans before it happened. A sense of overwhelming magic filled the air and had he not been paying attention he would have missed it. In the blink of an eye, an armored figure blurred past and disposed of the group of humans. The sheer magical energy radiating off them was borderline intoxicating and Count Astriac has to resist the urge to feed.

Not only was there a possible archmage but he also saw a dragonborn effortlessly use magic to tell a story about Eugenia and disarm another group of humans. They didn't radiate as much magic as the armored figure but it was still quite potent.

He considered his options over this new development. There were 1 maybe 2 possible archmages talking about Eugenia as if they wanted to fix it somehow. That just wouldn't do at all and while he was supremely good at killing mages, he was hesitant to fight 2 archmages alone.

Sighing to himself that he would have to share this hunt, he pulled out his message stone and sent a call for reinforcements to his patrol division. It will take some time for them to prepare an assault but for now, he will continue watching and listening.

Gearhead looked the big fucker over more times than he's willing to admit. something about the cigar he was smoking and how he stood seemed off to him. He was so deep in thought he didn't even notice he was standing close to the orc until he felt the puff of smoke hit him in the face. He blinked a couple of times before he abruptly backpedaled away causing him to trip over a rock and slam into the ground.

"one issue with that there big guy, We're not going to hand him over just because he pissed you off," he grunted out as he climbed back to his feet.
"If you want we can let you walk and pretend this didn't happen to save your reputation among your......" he looks back at the men behind the orc "I want to say men of many talents."
A smile crept across his face as he looked back at his new companions hoping to see some reaction from them, when none came he only rolled his eyes as he grabbed his metal club off his back.
"or you know, we can do some experiments to figure out what this 'lightning cornucopia thing is." He quickly spun the club with the flick of his wrist before his thumb tapped a part of the handle. When nothing happened after he tapped it a few more times, he broke eye contact to look at his weapon.
"that's a Shocking development, Could of swore I modded this thing when I got here." he quickly looked back up to the orc leader with an embarrassed look on his face.
"Guess we have to do it the old fashion way" he says as he quickly raises a hand before a spark flashes within his palm. a ball of electricity formed within his palm. With one flick of his wrist, the ball flew up and landed on his club's head before it dissolved and melted within his metal beating device.

His club roared to life as it gave off a slight glow. He spun it around a couple of times before tossing it up into the air and grabbing it with his other hand.
"I wouldn't try anything if I were you Orc-dude," He spoke with a tone like he was trying to act tough. "One touch to your right temple and I technically cross the geneva convention......Or was that the left?"He stood up straight and starts moving his free hand and spinning around before he abruptly shifts back into his original position. "It's definitely the right one, the left one will just make you forget your name for a couple of minutes." When no reply came for the second time he just rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Tough crowd" he whispered under his breath. "At least with Puff I know he's too mad to get half my jokes."

“Or you all can stay turn this into a party.” Warden muttered under his breath, as the others not only refused to step aside, they ended up stepping up to the Gang boss.  

At least, Sage and the steampunk guy did.  

Either way, Warden had to figure out a gameplan, as Cliff was right, the use of magic would only draw the attention of something far worse. While he knew Sage could take care of herself, and he was resourceful enough to survive, he lacked intel on the other two. As Steampunk tried to act tough, only to fumble with his weapon, Wardens confidence dropped even lower.  

Warden placed a hand on Steampunks shoulder, as he moved past him, and stepped up to Cliff.  

For most, Warden was a walking tank, as he stood a solid 6’2”, and carried a solid 215lbs of muscle, and 5lbs of metal.  

But, as he looked up to Cliff, squaring off with him, Warden looked like a child, standing against their lumberjack father. The Half-Giant towered over the vigilante, engulfing him in his massive shadow.

Still, Warden didn’t seem concerned, as he unbuckled his belt, taking off his weapons. “Tell you what...” He set the weapons aside, rolling his shoulders. “We both know I won’t go without a fight...” He looked the Boss over. “So let’s make this quick, you and me, one on one, no weapons.”  

Cliff raised a brow, laughing, almost insulted by the offer. “You wanna go one on one with me??” He looked back to his boys, who also started to laugh. “Get a load of the balls on this one.”  

Warden shrugged, not backing down. “Why not, you win, I go with you, and nobody else gets involved, especially the vampires...” He could see a brief hint of concern on the Half-Giants face at the mention of vampires. “I win, you and your gang walk away, and we forget everything that has happened here.” He held out his hand.

Cliff cocked his head, still chuckling as he shook his head, before finally replying. “Ya know what, alright...” He shook Wardens hand. “You wanna get your ass kicked, I’ll happily oblige.”

As the goons stepped back, giving the two space to fight, Warden turned to Sage. “I’d drop the weapons, this will over sho...”

As Warden turned around to face Cliff, his sentence was interrupted as a massive left backhand smacked across his face, the hand itself size of a cannon ball. Warden went flying back, his helm flying off, as he tumbled across the ground.  

“And that’s a fucking wrap!!” Cliff declared, as his men cheered him on. “Make sure he isn’t dead, then load him into a cart, I want his ass awake when I take my pound of flesh.” He walked over to Sage, nodding over to Warden. “He made a deal, sweetheart.”  

“Uh, Boss...”  

“What??” Cliff looked back, his eyes growing wide, as he watched Warden climb back to his feet. “How the hell are you still up?”

Warden wiped some blood from his lips, spitting out more on the ground as he turned back to face the Half-Giant, a grin on his face. “That was a good one, definitely caught me off guard.”  

Cliff let out a growl, turning back to the vigilante. “You got lucky, next one will put you down for sure.” He charged forward, swinging punches like a brute.  

None of his blows landed, however, as Warden weaved through each punch, standing in his boxer stance. The vigilante toyed with the Boss, giving him some ground as he rained down punches that ended up hitting air. “You know...” Warden stated, as Cliff had stopped swinging, taking a moment to catch his breath. “We could always just call it now, while you can still walk, that is.”  

Cliff let out a roar, catching his second wind, as he rushed back in.  

This time, Warden didn’t give an inch, as he planted hard counter strikes into the Half-Giants ribs, abdomen, and jaw.  

Eventually, Cliff started to slow, as his body was starting to turn color from the extensive blows he kept receiving, and it was getting harder and harder to move.  

Warden, however, only picked up speed and power, as he pushed the Half-Giant back, causing him to stumble and, eventually, drop to a knee. “One last chance...” Warden now stood over the Half-Giant, his right hand clenched into a fist, ready to deliver one last blow. “Call this off, and you can still walk away.”  

Cliff replied, spitting blood into the Vigilantes face. “Fuck you.”  

Warden wiped the blood from his face, shaking his head. “I figured you would say that.” He then drove a hard right hook into the jaw of the Boss.  

With his jaw emitting a loud, sickening crack, Cliff slumped to the ground, completely unconscious.

Warden stepped back from the body, looking over to the other thugs. “Ya might wanna get him to a healer, I think I broke his jaw.” He then turned, walking over to pick up his helm. “Ah, crap...” He muttered, as he looked over the massive dent that was left in the face plate, ruining the helm. “These things aren't cheap to repair.”

“Eugene was already deposed? This is new information to me. A vampire is it? Hmmm… the witch made no mention of vampires.” Sage took this new information and had to rethink her approach. She would’ve offended Cliff with her nonchalant attitude, turning her back on him, but he had bigger, muscly-er fish to fry in Warden. She ignored his threats and large heavy footsteps, rethinking her approach.

Warden and the giant exchanged hostile words, and she sighed and stepped aside to allow these thick meatheads to resolve their differences with their fists. The fight started out with a wince-worthy strike, but Warden proved the superior fighter. Definitely useful for the long task ahead.

Once Cliff was thoroughly thrashed, and the group of henchmooks adequately delayed, Sage returns their weapons haphazardly. Axes, clubs, blades and even sharpened tools held aloft by an invisible force went into freefall and loudly clattered on the stone. Most were too nervous to pick up the ‘bewitched’ weapons, but in a land ruled by a blood sucking overlord, security quickly overcame that concern, and the ne’er-do-wells retook their weapons.

Sage approached and gestured to the damaged helmet, to let Warden give it to her. “Hmph. An ugly utilitarian thing, allow me.” Sage worked her magic to undo the damage done to his helmet, in fact the artisan deciding on ways to improve on it. Her power over metal flowed from her hands into the headpiece, the metal seemingly rippling like a liquid, undoing the damage. She then reinforces it with an additional brace, extra flare to the edge of the helm, and even applying her signature draconic character to the previously damaged spot, resembling the side of a crocodilian jaw. She couldn’t help but embellish it with a small ruby as well, enhancing the functional helm into a work of art. Now it seemed like a snarling dragon.

“And now it is presentable. No charge; to create art is its own reward.” She offered the helmet back to him.

“Well, this certainly changes my initial tale. A vampire (or vampires) lords over this realm, not Eugene, as I originally thought… which only makes the situation for the inhabitants more dire.” Sage looked at the unconscious Cliff. He probably has nothing more to say, even if he were in a condition to speak. She looked around at the capable (and slightly less than capable) individuals gathered.

“I don’t suppose any of you are interested in looking into this vampire matter more deeply? See how the locals live, and perhaps find clues to their whereabouts. If they are truly the ones in power, then it might be the key to restoring Boston to normal.” Sage thought a moment to what she had asked, and swiftly added an enticing amendment. She picks up a rock from the ground, and using her power over stone and minerals as well, transforms it into a gem of exquisite hue and quality. “And think of all the obscene power, resources and wealth their positions afford them…”

She heads over towards Gearhead, the one with the interesting energy club. She offered the sapphire to him, matching his outfit. “What do you say?”

Victoria watched from the sidelines as the giant and his merry band of thugs and goons postured and threatened. While she did help out the steampunk man, this wasn't something she could easily get rid of without the others here asking questions. In her mind the longer she could keep everyone else in the dark about what she could do, the better. Besides, the buff guy the goons were after didn't seem at all phased by any of this, so she would just stay back and watch what happened.

The fight was decided from the first punch in her eyes and she hadn't put much interest in it but the giant said some very concerning things. She had heard of these vampires in the past few days but every time she tried to get more information about them, the townsfolk became tight-lipped. If they really could smell magic then the odds were good that they could sense her armor too. It is fortunate then that she had aired on the side of caution and had used her suit sparingly. Going forward with this is going to be a pain though.

Now that the fight was over and the draconic wizard was fixing up the buff guy's helmet, she weighed her options. She could just leave and continue her search on her own but it has been several days now and she wasn't making much ground. Normally that wouldn't be much of an issue for her but she did not want to stick around in Eugenia for long, worried about any further changes to her body or even her mind. The thought of throwing all caution to the wind and running around all Eugenia at the speed of light was also out the window as well. Her suit was incredibly powerful but magic is just bullshit from what she's seen.

The other option was to stay around these weirdos and see where that goes. They all clearly have some sort of goal here with the buff guy attracting gang leaders, the wizard drawing them into a long spiel about what happened to Boston, and the steampunk man being chased by more wizards and trying to help the buff guy with the bandits. They also seemed resourceful enough to handle their own in a fight, except for maybe the steampunk but she was sure he could be useful. Still, she hardly knew these people but she could always walk away if this didn't work out anyways.

“I don’t suppose any of you are interested in looking into this vampire matter more deeply? See how the locals live, and perhaps find clues to their whereabouts. If they are truly the ones in power, then it might be the key to restoring Boston to normal and think of all the obscene power, resources and wealth their positions afford them…” Sage asked the group.

Victoria rolled her eyes behind her helmet at the appeal to greed as she pulled a series of worn maps from her leather satchel.

"I've been looking into this part of Boston for 2 days already and it's not going to be that easy. The people here are either too afraid of the vampires, don't know enough, or are hostile to too many questions. I do have maps of Eugenia though."

She pointed at a few villages and areas she had already crossed off.

"Those are dead ends as far as finding Eugene is concerned."

She looked to the assembled group.

"What do you guys have?" She asked.

James stared down at the gem sitting in the palm of the dragon lady. Forcing a smile off his face, He could only look back up and see if she was joking. When her face remained severe, Gearhead couldn’t help himself anymore. A smile pushed itself to the surface as what he had to do finally hit him like a lightning bolt. Without breaking eye contact, he quickly grabbed the gem from her hand. Though he must admit, even in that moment he knew he might regret it retrospectively. He still went forward with his idea as he pumped a tiny amount of his “magic” into the gem causing it to radiate with a tiny glow. Breaking eye contact for the first time in a couple of minutes, he quickly tossed it into the air before shifting into a batter's position.

“It’s the bottom of the ninth, the bases are loaded and the game is a 3-man lead.” James started to say in the worst Old-timey radio host voice possible. He started slowly rolling his club around in his palms as he grabbed it tightly with both hands.
“Will the sultan of Ash be able to send this puppy out of the park and win the game for his team?” The gem started its descent as he refused to take his eye off of it. In what felt like an eternity for himself but only moments for his watchers, the gem reached the correct spot as he made the connection and sent  the gem flying through the air.
“It’s going, It’s going, I think it’s fair to say…..IT. IS. OUTTA HERE. " There was only a moment of silence, may it be from those watching with true interest or those shocked by the pure stupidity, before a blinding light flashed over the entire city before just as quickly disappearing. A quick static shock washed over everyone before Gearhead spun around and looked back at the gem lady.

“I must say” he starts as he rests the club onto his shoulders and the back of his neck. “That gem of yours was quite the conductor for a gem that size.”he rolls his neck against the metal before looking up to where the explosion went off.
“Maybe that’s just how this magic stuff works,” he says thinking out loud. “Should have really asked Puff about it before he abandoned me.”
His head slowly turns to the one with the cool helmet and the maps. “I can’t offer you any more maps or real guarantee that knowledge is a guaranteed help.” He shrugs his shoulders, sending one end of the bat into the air and down onto his free hand. “What I can guarantee you is the best support and companionship you would be a Joule to go without.” with a wink and smile he waited for someone to chip in. when no one did, he rolled his eyes before adding in “You have my Club.”

“Great, this definitely won’t stand out in a crowd.” Warden thought to himself, looking over his “fixed” helmet. He slid the helmet back on anyways, not wanting to be rude, as she did fix the dent for him. “Thank you.” He said, giving Sage a bow of his head.  

“I don’t suppose any of you are interested in looking into this vampire matter more deeply? See how the locals live, and perhaps find clues to their whereabouts. If they are truly the ones in power, then it might be the key to restoring Boston to normal and think of all the obscene power, resources and wealth their positions afford them…”

Warden then watched as the Steampunk man made a small scene, batting a gemstone off into the distance.  

“Keep your riches...” Warden stated to Sage. “The safety of Boston is top priority here.”  

He looked over the maps the woman in magic armor pulled out. “Sounds like your typical high table...” He explained. “Top dogs of the criminal underground, run everything from the shadows, sending orders down a chain of command...” He pulled out his own maps and various other papers, walking over to a nearby bench with a table, setting them down for the others. “They have eyes and ears everywhere, and are damn near impossible to track down...” He set some drawings down over the map, depicting various sketches of people, as well as names and information. Each paper also had a large red X plastered across each of them. “Every time one manages to find a loose thread, they are quickly taken care of, leaving no trace of their existence, and the thread is quickly burned, making it useless to follow.”  

Warden waited for a moment, letting the difficulty of their situation sink in, before devising his own plan. “Back when I was in the Special Forces, we had to hunt down a former KGB assassin, who had taken refuge in central America, hiding in the jungle...” He pulled out a piece of charcoal, marking areas on his map. “The Army had spent months trying to track him, and lost an entire battalion of men in the hunt...” He crossed his arms, looking over his new notes. “Me and my unit ended up finding him in two weeks.”

“How did you end up finding him??” Victoria asked, looking over his map, comparing it to hers.  

Warden looked up at them. “Simple, we burned the jungle down, until he had nowhere else to hide.” He nodded to his map. “I’ve marked down every criminal operation I currently know about, drug storage, weapons cache, cash drops, the works...” He looked back to the map. “We torch each facility, taking nothing, leaving them nothing to recover...” He paused. “Eventually, they will be forced to withdraw whatever is left, until they lose enough ground, that the big bosses have no choice but to either cut all ties with Boston, or come after us...” He looked up to the group. “And if they leave, they lose the powers they were given from this place, so odds are they will make a final stand.”  

He looked among the group, knowing he just asked them to participate in burning down an entire criminal operation, and the risks that come along with it.