Post by Toz76 on Apr 12, 2017 0:24:04 GMT -5
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This story is a combination of several ideas I've had floating around in my head for a while. Part of it is trying to improve my descriptive ability, part of it is trying to cement the VEC as truly evil, part of it is cracking jokes, part of it is making fun of conspiracy theories (that part comes later though), and the rest is just because it's fun.
OCTOBER 18th, 2015
London
"Oh, come on, Bronze, there's no way a bar that existed 800 years ago is still around."
"Haborym wasn't a bar, it was a tavern. And not just any tavern, but the biggest evil hotspot in the British Isles."
Bronze Mage, Chessmaster, Worldender, and Paincauser were in London, seeking out a favorite hangout of theirs from the 1100s. The Haborym was a tavern run by a man named Paul Ambrose, and it was secretly a front for a satanic cult called Abaddon's Beloved. Many a drink had been had while chatting with other budding evildoers during long winter nights when it was one of the few places other than their base Xex allowed the VECites to venture.
But where the wooden tavern had once been, there was now a tall glass and steel skyscraper.
"Well, I knew it, it's dead." Worldender snarked.
"Not so fast." Bronze Mage interrupted gleefully. "There's a coffee shop on the ground floor. What could be eviler than coffee?"
"Murder, arson, terrorism, sadism, fascism.."
"Okay, I get it. But it's called "Thoth's Egyptian Style Coffee.""
"That just means it'll have pyramids painted on the walls, mummies on the cups, and be kind of racist."
"No, don't you see! Thoth is one of the infernal names. Even if it's not the same company, it's still the first evil business we've found. Let's go in."
Worldender rolled his eyes, but followed Bronze Mage and Chessmaster into the shop. Paincauser followed last, gloved hands gripping the doorframe nervously.
The coffee shop was your stereotypical modern, Seattle-style skyscraper coffee shop. Pastel colors lined the glaring white walls, the whole thing smelled vaguely of vanilla, citrus, and pot, and small baubles or baskets of pebbles covered decorative shelves alongside bags of coffee beans with the company logo, a grinning Pharoah giving a thumbs up and a cheesy grin. The tables were either circular or long with random curves, and there were no chairs, only stools. Jazz played over the speakers.
Behind the counter stood a bored-looking man with matted blond hair and headphones in. He looked with annoyance as the Bronze Mage approached the counter.
"Sorry, dude, the cosplay convention was last weekend."
"It's okay. We just want a coffee... with a side of EVIL!"
"What?"
"Oh, not the code, huh? Well, how about the So Good, It's Dangerous?"
"Dude, if you're just going to make stuff up, you can leave."
"Um... we want a Satan Shake with a side of Hellfries?"
The man sighed. "You want in to the evil lounge, right?"
"Yes, yes we do."
"Yeah, I thought so from the goth chick."
Bronze Mage glanced at Paincauser, who had gotten a battleaxe from hammerspace and was threatening a group of schoolchildren with it.
"She's just in one of her moods. She doesn't like strangers much, and expresses it through either extreme shyness or extreme violence."
"I see. Just go to the thirteenth floor, find Nergal & Bast Tax Collectors."
"Great, thanks!"
Outside the coffee shop, the four tried to make their way to the stairs.
"Where are the stairs?"
"I think this building has what is called an "elevator"." Worldender explained. "It's that over there. Get in, press the button for 13, and it'll take us there."
The four crowded in the wood-panelled elevator. Paincauser leaned against the back wall, Bronze Mage stood in the center, and Chessmaster and Worldender stood at opposite sides of the door and discussed elevators. Chessmaster thought the idea amazing, and mentally redesigned his plans for a future base to include them. "Much better than the 30 flights of stairs I was going to use." He thought.
At the 13th floor, theduo trio group of four disembarked and made their way to the office. A bulky man in a tight business suit answered their knock."
"Nergal and Bast, saving you money on taxes for only twice the amount you ultimately save, how may I screw you over today?"
"Evil lounge?" Bronze asked.
"Just through here." He led them through a crowded waiting room into an empty office. "Just get in the filing cabinet. One at a time, and make it quick, I've got an appointment with a Mr F. Devonshire in 5."
"Um, customer confidentiality?" Worldender asked.
"I'm evil, remember?"
"Oh yeah."
One by one, the four squeezed into the filing cabinet; first Bronze, then Paincauser, then Worldender, and lastly Chessmaster. In each case, there was a brief lightheadedness, the smell of peaches, and then the cabinet opened to reveal a long, dimly lit hallway with logs and animal heads giving the appearance of a hunting lounge.
At the end of the hallway was a counter, behind which was an irritated snakeman.
"Ssssssssssssign in, pleasssssssse, and go down to the left for the bar or right for the archivesssssss of evil."
The four signed in beneath a Mr B. Essex, and headed down the left hallway. Paincauser was a lot perkier now, positively skipping down the hallway.
As they pushed open the double doors, the villainous foursome couldn't help but be a bit disappointed. The bar was small, dimly lit, and mostly empty. A pool table was in the middle of the room, some arcade games were in the opposite corner, and the bar, the only well-lit part of the place, was manned by yet another bored-looking human male, although at least this one had an eyepatch.
"Four virgin heart ales and some info, please." Bronze Mage said cheerfully, as the four took seats at the bar.
"No ice in mine." Paincauser mumbled.
"We don't give info here, you want the evil archives down the hall."
"Just some questions about the Ambrose's and Abaddon's Beloved."
The bartender sighed. "The Ambrose line was wiped out by colormen in the 1340s. The remains of Abbadon's Beloved merged with some other cults, then split off again, had a schism, and then merged with other cults, which merged with other cults. It's all part of the Entropy Enforcers now, I think."
"And where can I find the Entropy Enforcers?"
"The Grand Disorderer, Azazel Asmodeus, is in the archives now, I think." The bartender replied, handing them their drinks.
The Bronze Mage took a sip, then made a face. "This tastes... underripe somehow."
"Yeah, it's getting harder and harder to find virgins old enough to make their hearts into ale. It's even worse since the Guild Of Death banned virgin farms. We have to have the Piracy International Coalition ship them here from the tropics."
"Gosh, this time sucks." Bronze complained.
"Could be worse. At least they haven't discontinued SoulfriezTM." Chessmaster pointed out.
The four finished their drinks, tipped the bartender one pound of flesh, and went across the hallway to the Evil Archives.
TO BE CONTINUED...
This story is a combination of several ideas I've had floating around in my head for a while. Part of it is trying to improve my descriptive ability, part of it is trying to cement the VEC as truly evil, part of it is cracking jokes, part of it is making fun of conspiracy theories (that part comes later though), and the rest is just because it's fun.
OCTOBER 18th, 2015
London
"Oh, come on, Bronze, there's no way a bar that existed 800 years ago is still around."
"Haborym wasn't a bar, it was a tavern. And not just any tavern, but the biggest evil hotspot in the British Isles."
Bronze Mage, Chessmaster, Worldender, and Paincauser were in London, seeking out a favorite hangout of theirs from the 1100s. The Haborym was a tavern run by a man named Paul Ambrose, and it was secretly a front for a satanic cult called Abaddon's Beloved. Many a drink had been had while chatting with other budding evildoers during long winter nights when it was one of the few places other than their base Xex allowed the VECites to venture.
But where the wooden tavern had once been, there was now a tall glass and steel skyscraper.
"Well, I knew it, it's dead." Worldender snarked.
"Not so fast." Bronze Mage interrupted gleefully. "There's a coffee shop on the ground floor. What could be eviler than coffee?"
"Murder, arson, terrorism, sadism, fascism.."
"Okay, I get it. But it's called "Thoth's Egyptian Style Coffee.""
"That just means it'll have pyramids painted on the walls, mummies on the cups, and be kind of racist."
"No, don't you see! Thoth is one of the infernal names. Even if it's not the same company, it's still the first evil business we've found. Let's go in."
Worldender rolled his eyes, but followed Bronze Mage and Chessmaster into the shop. Paincauser followed last, gloved hands gripping the doorframe nervously.
The coffee shop was your stereotypical modern, Seattle-style skyscraper coffee shop. Pastel colors lined the glaring white walls, the whole thing smelled vaguely of vanilla, citrus, and pot, and small baubles or baskets of pebbles covered decorative shelves alongside bags of coffee beans with the company logo, a grinning Pharoah giving a thumbs up and a cheesy grin. The tables were either circular or long with random curves, and there were no chairs, only stools. Jazz played over the speakers.
Behind the counter stood a bored-looking man with matted blond hair and headphones in. He looked with annoyance as the Bronze Mage approached the counter.
"Sorry, dude, the cosplay convention was last weekend."
"It's okay. We just want a coffee... with a side of EVIL!"
"What?"
"Oh, not the code, huh? Well, how about the So Good, It's Dangerous?"
"Dude, if you're just going to make stuff up, you can leave."
"Um... we want a Satan Shake with a side of Hellfries?"
The man sighed. "You want in to the evil lounge, right?"
"Yes, yes we do."
"Yeah, I thought so from the goth chick."
Bronze Mage glanced at Paincauser, who had gotten a battleaxe from hammerspace and was threatening a group of schoolchildren with it.
"She's just in one of her moods. She doesn't like strangers much, and expresses it through either extreme shyness or extreme violence."
"I see. Just go to the thirteenth floor, find Nergal & Bast Tax Collectors."
"Great, thanks!"
Outside the coffee shop, the four tried to make their way to the stairs.
"Where are the stairs?"
"I think this building has what is called an "elevator"." Worldender explained. "It's that over there. Get in, press the button for 13, and it'll take us there."
The four crowded in the wood-panelled elevator. Paincauser leaned against the back wall, Bronze Mage stood in the center, and Chessmaster and Worldender stood at opposite sides of the door and discussed elevators. Chessmaster thought the idea amazing, and mentally redesigned his plans for a future base to include them. "Much better than the 30 flights of stairs I was going to use." He thought.
At the 13th floor, the
"Nergal and Bast, saving you money on taxes for only twice the amount you ultimately save, how may I screw you over today?"
"Evil lounge?" Bronze asked.
"Just through here." He led them through a crowded waiting room into an empty office. "Just get in the filing cabinet. One at a time, and make it quick, I've got an appointment with a Mr F. Devonshire in 5."
"Um, customer confidentiality?" Worldender asked.
"I'm evil, remember?"
"Oh yeah."
One by one, the four squeezed into the filing cabinet; first Bronze, then Paincauser, then Worldender, and lastly Chessmaster. In each case, there was a brief lightheadedness, the smell of peaches, and then the cabinet opened to reveal a long, dimly lit hallway with logs and animal heads giving the appearance of a hunting lounge.
At the end of the hallway was a counter, behind which was an irritated snakeman.
"Ssssssssssssign in, pleasssssssse, and go down to the left for the bar or right for the archivesssssss of evil."
The four signed in beneath a Mr B. Essex, and headed down the left hallway. Paincauser was a lot perkier now, positively skipping down the hallway.
As they pushed open the double doors, the villainous foursome couldn't help but be a bit disappointed. The bar was small, dimly lit, and mostly empty. A pool table was in the middle of the room, some arcade games were in the opposite corner, and the bar, the only well-lit part of the place, was manned by yet another bored-looking human male, although at least this one had an eyepatch.
"Four virgin heart ales and some info, please." Bronze Mage said cheerfully, as the four took seats at the bar.
"No ice in mine." Paincauser mumbled.
"We don't give info here, you want the evil archives down the hall."
"Just some questions about the Ambrose's and Abaddon's Beloved."
The bartender sighed. "The Ambrose line was wiped out by colormen in the 1340s. The remains of Abbadon's Beloved merged with some other cults, then split off again, had a schism, and then merged with other cults, which merged with other cults. It's all part of the Entropy Enforcers now, I think."
"And where can I find the Entropy Enforcers?"
"The Grand Disorderer, Azazel Asmodeus, is in the archives now, I think." The bartender replied, handing them their drinks.
The Bronze Mage took a sip, then made a face. "This tastes... underripe somehow."
"Yeah, it's getting harder and harder to find virgins old enough to make their hearts into ale. It's even worse since the Guild Of Death banned virgin farms. We have to have the Piracy International Coalition ship them here from the tropics."
"Gosh, this time sucks." Bronze complained.
"Could be worse. At least they haven't discontinued SoulfriezTM." Chessmaster pointed out.
The four finished their drinks, tipped the bartender one pound of flesh, and went across the hallway to the Evil Archives.
TO BE CONTINUED...