The Otherworld War,
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Castle Braddock, Otherworld
Sammael, the keeper of secrets, strode down one of the well-appointed corridors of Braddock castle in Otherworld. The walls of the corridor were decorated with portraits of past defenders of Otherworld, members of the Captain Britian Corps, and former rulers. Sammael’s eyes wandered over the pictures and stopped on one of King Brian’s father. He looked both regal and majestic in his bright blue and white uniform. “So much potential in your genes, so much potential indeed,” Sammael whispered to himself as he continued on, the tapping of the tip of his cane echoing as he proceeded.
He leaned heavily on a walking stick as he repositioned a large package he carried with him. The package was draped with heavy red velvet shading it from view of prying eyes, but it seemed to pulse with life.
He reflected on his confrontation with King Brian* and hoped that he had made the right decision. For now the keeper of secrets, had a secret of his own. He wondered dimly what the impact of his recent decisions would have on King Brian, Meggan, and all of Otherworld in the not to distant future.
(*
Last Issue)
At last he reached his destination. The wooden door to Wynter’s room was slightly ajar. Cool, scented air whauffed out from the room. Sammael paused briefly to collect himself before entering the room. His small gnarled hand reached forward to push the door completely open. As he entered the room his eyes fell upon Merlyn.
Merlyn’s body slumped slightly as if he were a beautifully crafted puppet at rest. There was a serene smile upon his face and he seemed to be at peace with the world.
“Thank you for coming Sammael, although I had no doubt you would make it.” The voice came from behind him off to his right. The speaker was bathed in shadow, preventing Sammael from seeing who had spoke. Sammael didn’t need to see the speakers face to know who had spoken these words, as they belonged to a voice he was well acquainted with.
“I have ever answered your call m’lord. All has been completed as you have requested.” Sammael moved toward a small table set in front of the shadowed covered man. He placed the red velvet covered package on the table and reached into the folds of his robe for his pipe. He lit the pipe and drew in a deep drag. He exhaled a large plume of blue white smoke and waited for the man before him to speak.
“It is sad times,” the speaker added as his weather hand reached from the shadow. “The king must be in a terrible state at the moment, the death of his brother, his betrayal by Roma and Dane, besieged by war, and now the loss of his child,” The shadowy figure patted the package absently as he continued to speak. “I fear that the pressures of kingship are more than he can take. Alas, I fear that he is the latest in a long line of failures. How many does that make Sammael?”
“If you were to include King Brian m’lord it would be forty-seven *,” Sammael answered.
*Forty Five failures were found in the Chamber of Failures by Brian in Issue #2, plus Jamie Braddock.
The figure drew away the red velvet and gazed at the contents of the container. Sammael’s unwavering eyes took in the gruesome sight without flinching. Inside was a perfect infant, with wisps of blond hair scattered about its head. The child floated in an artificial womb of magical construction, and its tiny arms and legs moved spasmodically, from time to time.
“And from the ashes of failure, victory may be found. This child is the product of all my long plans finally come to fruition. Genetic perfection, imbued with magical ability, and created to rule by both brain and brawn.
The shadowy figure paused in his speech to look intently at the small child. Unbelievably to Sammael’s eyes the child seemed to be looking back. For all his cool and detachment, this seemed to send a chill down Sammael’s spine.
“Your services will be needed to teach and guide this new pupil. Begin your preparations to leave the palace. We will go as soon as I have tied up some loose ends. There is more trouble on the horizon than the king knows, and we must be prepared for either his failure or less likely, his victory.” The figure re-covered the infant and retreated deeper into the shadow.
The Palace, throne room
Consciousness returned slowly to King Brian, he had been dreaming of his wife and child. They were in a field on Otherworld having a picnic. Brian Junior was just learning to fly and was barely containable. Brian was sure that he had never been happier in his life.
As he became more fully awake the throbbing pain in his face returned and the searing pain in his back flared. The beautiful dream shattered as reality came crashing back in. His child was aborted by Meggan and Slaymaster had infiltrated the throne room and killed his advisors*.
* Both happened last issue
King Brian slowly tried to move his body and found he could not move and when he attempted to liquid fire seemed to cascade through his body. He moaned in pain.
“Ah, finally awake I see,” Slaymaster said almost in a purr. “I wouldn’t attempt to move if I were you. I have punished you as the Romans once punished your prophet.”
At this Brian opened his eyes to see his condition. His blue and white uniform had been torn away, leaving only a swath of cloth over midsection. He had been fixed to a cross and raised off the ground. Small black devices had been pushed into his wrists and his ankles in place of nails.
Slaymaster lounged on Brian’s throne. He pointed up towards Brian, “those devises are connected to your central nervous system and are activated by the electrical impulses emitted by the brain. The stronger your impulse to move your muscles, the more intense the pain you generate within your body. Pushed far enough the pain emitters will cause heart failure.” Slaymaster smiled widely.
Brian swore under his breath. The dead bodies of his advisors still littered the room.
“Discipline, Brian, is what you have always lacked. You will come to see the futility of your life in the next coming months and I will teach you discipline as I’ve taught the teenage version of you. You will master your pain and control your emotions. Once you are able to do both you will be able to complete any task you wish, as I am able.”
Slaymaster rose from the throne and approached Brian. Looking up he pressed his leering face close to Brian’s. “Mandragon is not worthy of this throne, only I am by the grace of Allah. I’ve used him to wear opposition down, but now the trap is sprung. You, your young counterpart and myself will be death incarnate. From the base of other world and the veneer of the throne I will use you both to further the will of Allah and purge not just Earth, but all the multiverse. But, there is something that you must lose to assist in the taming of your inner demons, as I and young Brian both have.”
Slaymaster pulled a blade from inside his colourful costume. It was a long, gleaming bit of silver with an ivory handle. He reached forward and pulled the swath of clothing away from Brian’s manliness and raised the blade.
“No,” Brian screamed in horror and tried desperately to get free. His every move sent great waves of pain through his body.
“Don’t worry Brian, you will still be able to please your wife,” Slaymaster informed Brian with a wicked grin. He reached forward and grasped Brian’s testicles in his hand.
The great oaken doors to the throne room burst open. Splinters showered the inside of the room as a flying figure quickly entered.
“Don’t
touch my husband,” Meggan screamed as she quickly flew toward Slaymaster.
Meggan’s appearance had shifted to her feral state reflecting her inner
anger and turmoil.
Slaymaster turns quickly away from Brian and smiled sadly. “I don’t appreciate the interruption, woman. But I welcome the competition. Come let us dance.” Slaymaster flashed his Jazzler in Meggan’s direction to egg her on.
Roma sits motionless before her chessboard. The board is covered with pieces that represent the players currently engaged in the battle for Otherworld. A weathered hand reaches down from the shadows and rests on her shoulder.
“A perfectly played hand is one that no one ever suspects, isn’t that right my dear?” Roma doesn’t respond and continues to stare straight ahead.
“You have do an adequate job in my absence, but the time has come to take my place back at the table. I don’t expect you to follow me willingly, but I do hope in time that you will come around and resume your place by my side. I hold out no such hope for your brother, but then the strangest things do happen in the multiverse.” The weathered hand reaches up from Roma’s shoulder and strokes her face lovingly for a moment.
“You will forgive me my dear if I remove a few pieces from the board, as I have need of them. They will be returned to you when and if, I am ready.”
The figure steps forward and removes Sammael and Young Brian’s piece from the board.
“Good bye my dear, steel yourself for the coming trials and chose wisely.” The figure disappears before her.
Roma is still unable to move, but a small tear trickles down her face.
Loamhedge
The snow continued to fall on the battlefield and was now deep and thick. This reduced everyone’s manuverability, cause the battle to be slow and brutal. This worked in the favour of the Dark Guard and Captain Britain Corps, as the forces of Mandragon were not able to take advantage of the numbers. The groans of the injured rose in a cacophony as the lay in the snow and prayed for help. The Dark Guard continued to hold the castle against the forces of Mandragon. Though vastly outnumbered, the Dark Guard held greater power and experience, to the forces of Mandragon.
Brian smashed his star sceptre into Betsy’s temple sending her crashing into a deep snow bank. Using her psy powers, Betsy lashed out at Brian, halting his advance and bringing him to one knee.
“Aaarrggghhh,” Brian screamed in pain and clutched the side of his head. Still reeling from the mental assault he reached down and threw a handful of snow into Betsy’s face. The momentary distraction broke off her assault. Brian knelt in the deep snow panting heavily. He couldn’t believe the skill level that his sister had achieved. He still remembered her as a precious little girl, and aspiring model, not a battle hardened warrior. “No, she is my enemy and has perverted all I’ve sworn to uphold,” Brian cursed himself
Through the clearing pain in his head he heard, “Brian,” a voice whispers in his head.
Shocked at the familiarity of the voice Brian called back out, “Merlyn?”
“Yes Brian, it is I,” the voice responded.
A floodgate broke in Brian and he mentally began to pour out his anguish, “Merlyn, where have you been? Why didn’t you come for me earlier? So many things have happened since I saw you last.”
“Hush, Brian. Mandragon has been lying to you. Betsy’s deluded, but not evil as you’ve been led to believe. End this battle, for nothing good will come from it.” The voice was so sure and commanding, Brian knew it was right. With a sigh, he lowered some of his mental shields to Betsy.
While Brian
was distracted with his mental communication Betsy unleashed another mental
assault. She entered Brian’s mind and saw the horror’s that his
life had been since coming into contact with Mandragon and Slaymaster.
She saw the disgusting disfiguration that he has suffered at
Slaymaster’s hand and shivered remembering her own. Betsy reached out to him
with compassion and love. Her
loving mental touch combined with Merlyn’s words snapped the remaining pieces
Slaymaster’s conditioning within Brian’s mind.
He slumped forward into the snow and began to cry.
Betsy rushed forward and took him into her arms.
“It’s ok
Brian, we’ll make this better. Don’t
worry, everything will be alright. Brian has healing powers, maybe he can use
them to make you whole again.” Betsy continued to hold Brian. She brushed the
hair back from his face and rocked him gently.
Brian continued to cry softly and clung to her embrace.
“It’s
been so horrible Bets. The awful
things that I’ve felt and did.”
“What
Brian, what have you done?”
“Captain
Assyria and Horus are dead. Slaymaster went on to confront Brian in the throne
room while I fought you.”
“No,”
screamed Betsy. “I must go help him.” The
visions of her maiming at Slaymaster’s hand flashed through her mind again, as
well as their confrontation on Battleworld.* She
knew what a devastating and deadly opponent he could be and was immediately
worried that Brian wouldn’t be up to the conflict with everything else that
had happened to him lately. “Brian... I must go to help my brother, the Dark
Guard will see you into the castle and to safety.”
*
During the Secret Wars story arc in Pendragons 15 - 19
“Sir
Benedict,” Betsy called over the din of the battle. “The castle has been
breached and the King is in mortal danger.
I’m going to him now. Young
Brian poses no further danger and he will help, if he can. Otherwise see that no
harm comes to him.”
“Aye, Lady
Betsy. I’ll do what I can.” Sir
Benedict replied as his thickly muscled, red-skinned arm struck down three
opponents with one mighty blow.
“I’ll
come back for you if I can Brian,” Betsy said and gave him a small kiss on top
of his thick, blond haired head.
As Betsy
took to the air and sped into the castle her only thoughts were on her brother
and her hope that she wouldn’t be too late.
On the
battlefield next to Brian, a small flash of light appeared and Merlyn stepped
out. He held out his weathered hand to Brian.
Brian took it and Merlyn pulled him to his feet.
“I’m
sorry for your horrors of late dear boy. But
the best blades are tempered and your adversity will only make you stronger for
surviving them. Come let’s see
our real enemy.”
With that
there was another small flash and both Brian and Merlyn were gone.
Slaymaster
smiled broadly, his moustache arching. His
roguishly handsome face was now covered in bruises and small cuts.
Blood seeped out of his broken nose and his trademark yellow and orange
jumpsuit was ripped. His muscles
rippled as he dodged an attack from Meggan.
“Your talent in battle is greater then I would have thought.
Your emotions betray you though...they will be your undoing.”
“Shut
up,” Meggan screamed. She had
totally lost herself in a feral, almost beserker rage.
Her eyes flashed as her talon like hands ripped at Slaymaster.
“I won’t let you touch Brian.”
“Ah, were
that it was up to you my dear, I’m sure I wouldn’t.” Slaymaster had taken
Meggan’s measure and was now almost playing with her as they continued to
fight. “Unfortunately for you and
your dear Brian, it’s not up to you.” As
he said this he dropped beneath a slash of Meggan’s hand and came up with a
thrust from his Jazzler that caught her in her side.
The nerve destroying properties of the Jazzler caused Meggan to scream
and twitch as she fell to the ground, unconscious.
Brian
screamed out to his wife as she fell. He
could hear his heart beating in his chest and began to flex his muscle,
attempting to break his bonds. A
flood of white, hot pain washed through his whole body.
He gasped at the pain but continued to struggle.
It seemed that his heart beat more quickly and loudly in his ears.
Veins bulged across Brian’s arms and popped out on his neck and
forehead. The pain continued to
grow the more he struggled. Brian
was sure that he had never felt this depth of pain before, not even when he had
been killed by the Fury.
“Well,
that battle was stimulating. But
now it’s time for the main course.” Slaymaster turned his eyes up from
Meggan’s body to take in the struggling king.
“Please
Brian, don’t fight this. It is as
Allah has meant it to be.”
The beating
of Brian’s heart was almost deafening in his ears.
It was the only thing that cut through the pain that cascaded through his
body tearing at his mind. His mind
screamed to him to stop his struggle and end the terrible pain, but his beating
heart seemed to urge him on. His
rage at Dane and the loss of his child, his hatred of Slaymaster and Mandragon
for what they had done to Otherworld, and the pain he felt over his failure to
save his brother fuelled his continued struggle.
With a
mighty yell and a final push, Brian forced himself off the cross he had been
fixed to and topped to the ground. He
was drenched in sweat from his exertion, and blood poured from his wrists and
ankles where the never devised had been attached.
His wound * from the bark of Yggdrasil had
reopened, and blood spilled down his side. He panted and fought the darkness
that swam at the edge of his vision.
*
Received from Dane Whitman, the Black Knight in Destiny Walk #18
“I’m
impressed Brian. I never considered
you a true or worthy opponent, but that display shows me how wrong I was in my
judgement.”
Brian pushed
himself to his feet. He wobbled
slightly before righting himself. He
called on all the powers granted to him from Otherworld and straightened.
The healing powers of Otherworld slowly knit the damage skin together and
stopped the blood. The warmth of
Otherworld seeped into Brian restoring him and making him whole again.
The image of the Union Jack began to burn brightly over his face.
“I am King
of Otherworld now and not Captain Britain.
I’m not the man you knew or fought.
I was young and foolish then. Although
I know conclusively that one decision I made during that time was right and that
decision was to end your tortured existence.”
Brian dropped into a crouch and prepared to engage Slaymaster.
Slaymaster
looked deeply into the eyes of Brian Braddock and knew he had made an error.
The clumsy oath of the past was gone.
The indecision, the excesses, and the lack of discipline no longer
existed. Before him was a man as
near a god that any could hope for. He
continued to look deeply into Brian’s eyes and knew that he would soon be with
Mohammad and Allah in paradise. Pushing
these thoughts aside he raised his Jazzler and lunged forward.
“To the
end then Brian, to the end,” Slaymaster screamed as he brought the Jazzler
down in a slash.
Almost
calmly, Brian reached forward and caught Slaymaster by the wrist.
He squeezed with all the might his hand could muster and felt the bones
beneath Slaymaster’s skin turn to dust.
Even the man
to whom pain was no more than an inconvinence gasped at the destruction of his
wrist. He lost his grip on the
Jazzler immediately and it dropped to the ground with a clatter.
Brian pulled
Slaymaster in closer by the wrist he still held and headbutted him on the bridge
of his nose. Stars burst behind
Slaymaster’s eyes and the world shot out of focus. Brian followed this blow
with a straight right hand into Slaymaster’s gut.
All the air exploded from his lungs and he dropped to his knees.
Brian
reached down and picked up the Jazzler from the floor. “To the end indeed,”
Brian said softly and drove the Jazzler straight into Slaymaster’s heart.
The nerve disrupting powers of the Jazzler stopped his heart for beating
almost at once.
Slaymaster
gurgled and reached forward and grasped Brian’s arm.
A smile danced on his battered face as his eyes slowly lost focus. His
grip lost its strength and Slaymaster slumped forward deeper onto the Jazzler.
Betsy
Braddock burst into the throne room just as Slaymaster passed away.
She saw him pierced by his Jazzler, which was still in her brother
Brian’s hand. Brian looked up as
she entered.
“There was
no other way to end this, Betsy. He
would have never stopped, he would have continued to torment you and I as long
as he lived.”
“I know
Brian. You did what you thought was right. The horror he has committed on the younger version of you,
and to me in the past, he was beyond redemption.
You’ve ended his pain.”
Brian turns
from Betsy and knelt down and toke Meggan into his arms.
He kissed her lightly on her forehead.
She stirred and looked into his eyes.
The love reflected from those eyes filled her heart with happiness.
“We have a
war to finish, let’s get to it,” Brian says.
All three of them take to the air and held out of the castle towards the
battle.
Mandragon’s
command tent
“What the hell is taking so long,” Mandragon calls to one of his aides.
“The Dark Guard and Captain Britain Corps are fighting for all the worth sire. The snow slows our advance and most of our troops are disgruntled farms, not warriors,” the aide replies.
Mandragon
struck the aide viciously with the back of his hand.
Blood spurted from the wound as he dropped to the ground.
“I’m not
looking for excuses as to why we have not breached the castle.”
Mandragon spun on his heels away from his aide, his cape twirled behind
him.
A flash of
light appeared within the tent. Mandragon
shielded his eyes. “What is
this?”
Merlyn and
young Brian appeared. Merlyn strode
forward his eyes flared in rage and he seemed to grow taller and fuller.
“You dare make war on Otherworld.
You dare try to take what is mine.” Merlyn’s voice thundered and
seemed to shake the very heavens above them.
Mandragon
was not a man taken to much personal fear, but the sight and sound of a angered
Merlyn shook he to the core of his being. “I….. I didn’t, I mean, Uurrhh,”
Mandragon managed to stammer.
“Hush you
croaking toad.” Merlyn waved his hand and Mandragon was transmutted into a
yellowish toad.
Merlyn
turned away from the toad and looked to Brian. “Please silence that thing,”
Merlyn asked and motioned over his shoulder.
Brian moved
forward toward the hopping toad that continued to croak loadly.
All the pain, anger, and anguish that Brian had felt welled up within
him. He raised his booted foot and
crashed in down upon the toady form of Mandragon.
There was a sickening squish and the tent was silent.
“Now, to
end this pathetic little skirmish.” Merlyn
closed his eyes and raised his hands A
bright aura surrounded his body. Within
the minds of all Mandragon’s forces a commanding voice spoke. “Mandragon is defeated, your desire or reason for war is
gone. Return to your homes and
farms and feel shame for what you have done.”
Loamhedge
On the
battlefield, the booming voice of Merlyn was heard by all.
Immediately Mandragon’s forces dropped their weapons and downcast began
to move away from the Dark Guard. They
knew the voice they had heard and were terrified what the return of Merlyn would
mean for Otherworld. Before they
had gotten more than a hundred yards from the field though, they could no longer
remember why they were there or why they were no leaving.
The only remaining feeling the had was that Brian on the throne of
Otherworld was as it should be.
As the crowd
began to disperse and the wounded were tended to, Brian, Betsy, and Meggan
landed near Sir Benedict.
“What’s
happening, where are they going?” Betsy asked a battered Sir Benedict.
“I’m not
really sure Lady Betsy, one minute it was a pitched battle, the next minute they
dropped their weapons and moved away. I
never seen anything like it, damn peculiar.” Benedict added as he sat down in
the deep snow that covered Loamhedge. “I can’t say I’m sorry it’s done
though.”
“Benedict,
where is young Brian?” Betsy asked.
“I don’t
know, you left and he continued to sit on the ground for a moment.
I repelled a wave of attackers that had moved in and when I looked up he
was nowhere to be seen.” Benedict replied with a shake of his head.
“Come, the
battle has ended for now. I can’t sense Mandragon anywhere within Otherworld,
let’s get back to the castle and try to get things back to normal.”
Mandragon’s
command tent
A flash of
light heralded Sammael’s arrival, a large red velvet package in his small
gnarled arms.
“All is
ready m’lord. To where shall we
go?”
“To
nowhere Sammael, to nowhere at all.” Merlyn replied and the trio disappeared.
“Father?”
Wynter called as he entered his room.
Merlyn who
had been sitting quietly looked up at Wynter.
A flash of happiness danced across his face.
“Wynter, I’m glad you’re here.
I’m bored, can we have more lessons.” Merlyn leaned forward with an
eager look on his face.
“Sure
father, have you completed the other lessons that I left for you.” Wynter
asked as he moved across the clutered room toward Merlyn.
Half way through the room Wynter came to an immediate halt.
His senses prickled and he raised his hands beginning to chant a spell.
“What’s
wrong?” Merlyn asked.
“A
presence, I’m sure I felt a something in the room. It’s not there now, but I
felt it for a moment and it was extremely familiar, almost as if there were two
of you here.” Wynter turned toward Merlyn who continued to smile broadly.
“Two of
me, like a twin?” Merlyn asked.
“No not
like that, something more, something sinister.” Wynter explained as he
continued to eye the room warily.
“Sinister?
Like a bad man?” Merlyn asked in his child like simplicity.
“Yes,
something like that. I don’t feel
it any longer though. Let’s see
to those lessons.” Wynter said, but the feeling of anxiety persisted.
Castle Braddock
Several days
from the end of the battle with Mandragon, Brian had called for a holiday to be
celebrated across Otherworld. A
large crowd had gathered beneath the grand balcony that ran off King Brian’s
bedroom. They had been promised an
audience by the King and all waited with baited breath for him to appear.
The massive glass and gold doors that lead from the bedroom to the
balcony opened and the crowd fell silent. Brian
stepped out onto the balcony in his deep blue and white uniform.
He was followed by Meggan, and Betsy.
“The war
on Otherworld is ended. Mandragon
has retreated and peace reigns once more. Let
us celebrate and count the blessings we have been granted.” Brain said
addressing the crowd.
A whoop and
a cheer rang out. Peace had
returned once more.
The end
Next: Peace is short lived as Jim Jaspers appears to wreak havoc on Otherworld. Will anything ever be the same again after this tie in to the Tempus Fugit storyline for Pendragons.
Author’s
Notes:
Hi all.
This is my first work in the Pendragon universe and I hope that the war
has been tied up to everyone’s satisfaction.
The future of this title is a rocky one. After the next issue which covers what happens on Otherworld
during the Tempus Fugit storyline. The
focus will shift to a political struggle resulting for the fallout between Roma
and Brian. How will the returned
Merlyn factor into all of this?
Please let
me know what you think.
Cheers,
Robert Rock
