Hey everybody. As you may or may not know, Hylian Pirate won the contest.
I'll post up the stories I received here so that everybody can see your wonderful entires, and I'll do that on the rigorous schedule of whenever I feel like it.
I think it will be appropriate to start with Hylian Pirate's absolutely amazing story.
89: Medusa
18: BAD END
***Veron and Medusa: Heart of Stone***
The change is instant, as always. One second he was there, and now he is here, wherever "here" may be. Likewise, whenever "here" may be. Ever since that rogue prophet necromancer - what an..."interesting" combination - cast his warp curse, this man has been unwillingly dimension-hopping. This almost looks like home, but with an infinite number of dimensions, the odds shun his hopes. At any rate, he is most certainly on an Earth. No other world in any dimension he has been to yet is home to this flora and fauna. Grass, trees, -SMACK!-, the occasional mosquito: these are all native to good old home base. Naturally, however, this is not his Earth. He concentrates, feeling for this Earth's magical presence...
Here, gods and titans hold what he might call "magic" back in his world; the average human is either not capable of or not allowed such feats, as per the gods' decrees. Well, he knows what he needs. Armed with this knowledge, he decides to hide his own magic presence, lest he face the wrath of the gods himself. The magic sensing done, he gains whatever else he needs through his other senses. The air here is pure, so he is in a time before industry; the sun is bright, but not harsh, so he is in a subtropic area; there is nary a tree in sight, so he is in a plain... and feels very exposed.
"Well," he speaks aloud so that he can hear himself and pay attention, "I think I'll walk..." He closes his eyes and spins in place a few times, then stops at random. "This way!" Ah, south. It must be as good a direction as any. He sets off, hoping to eventually run into some kind of building or person: the best way to confirm his location without catching the attention of some irate deity.
It doesn't take him too long to find a spectacular landmark. There, standing before the wanderer in pristine condition, was the Parthenon, the main temple of the goddess Athena. "So," he muses, "Greece it is, then." This building puts him in the 500 BC neighborhood. He need not worry about language; the shards of Rosetta surgically embedded in his larynx and ear drums will take care of spoken language for him. Clothes, however, could pose an issue. Currently, our subject wears the garb of a Spellblade. Feathered red fedoras don't exactly blend into ancient Greece.
The Red Mage enters the empty temple, removing his hat and cape as he does. There are offerings of food, gold, and, conveniently, clothing strewn about. He kneels at the alter and begins a prayer of sorts. "Oh goddess Athena, please forgive this humble stranger as he yoinks one of these fine looking tunics. He'll give it back before he leaves forever, promise."
"Oh, will he, now?," a voice booms, seemingly from the temple itself, "And, what, pray tell, makes this stranger think himself worthy of my offerings in the first place?"
"Oh! Ah! Uh... Lady Athena! Er, what brings you here? to your own temple? while some guy tries to steal your stuff? ... I'm startin' to see your point..."
"State your name, whelp."
"My name is Veron."
"Veron what?"
"Veron the Red, milady."
"'The Red? No surname?"
"No, ma'am, I gave that up quite some time ago."
"You are oddly dressed indeed, Veron the Red. From where do you hail?"
"Well, you see..." Veron explains his situation to the goddess, who listens with uncharacteristic patience. She takes a few moments to mull over his story before responding.
"That certainly explains much," she begins, "Earlier today, we denizens of Olympus felt a presence feeling its way around the energies of this world. Such acts are impossible for those not of divine origin, and we could not identify the intruder as one of our own. Zeus decreed that we all be on guard for this potentially dangerous outsider."
"Potentially dangerous...? No! I mean this world no harm! I'd leave if I knew how!"
"Yes, this much I see. However, even those who mean no harm are prone to causing it inadvertently..." With this, she presents Veron with a fresh set of clothes. "Here," she says as she hands the light armor and tunic to him, "wear this so as not to attract too much attention to yourself."
"Oh," Veron reacts with a bit of surprise, "Thank you very much, milady." Athena respectfully turns away to let him change. When he finishes, she presents him with two more gifts. "And, what exactly are these for?," he asks suspiciously.
"To be blunt," the goddess plainly states, "these are a bribe."
"A bribe? So there must be a catch."
"Indeed, these gifts are given with condition. The first is a purse containing an endless supply of Grecian money; use it to provide yourself with food and shelter while passing through our cities. The second is a drinking horn that will provide you with an endless supply of fresh water on your travels throughout our land."
"Well, useful trinkets to be sure, but you still haven't told me the conditions."
"There is but one condition." Veron cocks an eyebrow, waiting for her to finish. "You are not to share your stories with anyone."
"Beg pardon?"
"The conditions under which you arrived here are extraordinary; the people will turn to the gods to explain it, and we will have no explanation for them. These people do not believe that there is a phenomenon the gods cannot explain, and we do not intend to present them with one."
"So, I'm supposed to be a traveler to keep your sheep from rebelling, right?"
"Use whatever cover story you need, but yes, we will have no shattering of fragile minds on your undoubtedly short stay."
"I understand," Veron kneels before the goddess of wisdom. "Your gifts are generous and your demands light; I will comply with the terms you have set forth and I consider myself in your debt still. I shall begin my travels. Farewell!" He rises and turns toward the entrance.
"Oh, Veron," she stops him, "one more thing before you go?" He stops and tilts his head inquisitively.
"Yes, milady? How might I serve you?"
"Could you possibly do something about those ears?"
Veron's elven ears twitch at the request. It makes sense; those ears don't exactly scream "nothing to see here, folks! I'm just a perfectly normal human! Ha! Ha!" "Eheheh, of course, milady," he replies meekly. At that, his pointed ears round themselves off. With a final wave to Athena, Veron begins his tour of ancient Greece.
***
Having no real goals in this world, Veron wanders the Grecian countryside. There are occasionally days of travel between cities, but the people treat him kindly and share with him stories of their gods and heroes. Athena's gifts ensure him a bed to sleep in and warm meals when he does stay in a town. He is a foreigner, he tells them, from the land of Gaul far north. He mentions nothing of the Norse or Celtic myths, for fear that he may break his pact with Athena, and leads them to believe that the gods' influence extends the world over. Needing no company with such restrictions, he much prefers the time he spends in the wilderness.
During one such time, Veron finds himself at the edge of the Aegean Sea. Dotted with thousands of islands, the area proves itself quite an adventure without the use of magic. He buys a small boat for his tour. The craggy islands are treacherous, but the waves steer Veron clear of immanent danger. No doubt Poseidon is allowing Veron to explore his domain. Veron may be forced to "save himself" if faced with the threat of crashing violently against the cliffs and the gods are not prepared to deal with that.
Feeling the time has come for a rest, Veron finds a place to beach his vessel and plods ashore. Sand and rocks compose the islet; grass patches dot the far side. He pulls out a bit of dried meat he got before leaving the port, and stops just before he can start eating. He is not alone. The wind carries the distinct sound of a woman crying. I should ignore this, he thinks, but I'll hate myself if I do. "Goddammit." With that, Veron packs up his lunch and explores the small coast. He sees no other boats, but the weeping becomes clearer as he walks. Perhaps someone has been abandoned here? Now, that's not very nice at all.
Veron comes to a craggy cliff at the high end of the island and stops short. There, with her head in her hands, obviously wet with tears, sits a woman in a black chiton, with the longest hair Veron has ever seen. Her body visibly moves with her sobs, and her violet hair sprawls on the ground around her. Unable to bear the sight of a beautiful woman crying, Veron makes contact.
"Um, excuse me?," he begins.
"I -ha- am -ha- not -ha- a -ha- Hill Gian-- Oh!," the woman suddenly looks up and freezes. "Who's there?!" "Looks" may not be the right word. Once Veron sees her face, he notices she wears a blindfold.
"I'm sorry for startling you so," he answers her call with hands raised, "but I happened by and heard you crying."
"Ha-happened by?," she stammers, "H-here? You expect me to believe you just 'happened by' this place?!" She speaks louder and faster now. "That's a lie! Who sent you?! Why can't I just be alone?!"
"No one sent me here," Veron states calmly, "I just stopped by this island for a rest. I'm going to go back to my boat and have lunch. You're free to join me, if you'd like. Afterward, I'll take you back to shore."
"I don't need to go back to shore!," she protests, "And there's no way you could have possibly made it here in one piece! These are the sea god's waters; the waves take care of any unwelcome visitors."
"Huh," Veron shrugs, "I guess I must be welcome then. Do you need any help? Back in my land, the blind use do-"
"I am not blind!," she interrupts him.
"Oh. Uh, my mistake. I just noticed the cover over your eyes and assumed--"
"Well, you assumed wrong!," she huffs. Veron thinks this is cute and can't help but smirk a bit. "What's so funny?!," she demands.
"Ahem! Forgive me, milady," he straightens his face and voice, "It seems you certainly can see through that blindfold."
Perhaps the woman lacks the energy for such powerful emotions as sorrow or rage, having spent it on her tears already. She lets out a deep sigh and rises to her feet. The wind blows her loose garment around a voluptuous body. She stands at least a head taller than Veron, and her hair, hanging in violet tendrils, reaches her calves. Truly, her figure, equally beautiful and intimidating, demands respect. As she walks toward him, he can't help but watch her every movement.
"Stranger," she says coolly, "you're staring. If I find your intentions impure I will remove this mask."
"To be quite honest, I think I would like that."
"You wouldn't," she corrects him. "I shall take you up on your offer of food."
"That would be wonderful. By the way," he bows politely to her, "my name is Veron. Might I ask yours?" She hesitates and bites at her lip.
"You truly do not know my name?," she asks.
"If I did, I don't think I would ask it."
The woman puts a crooked finger to her lips and holds her elbow in her other hand. Eventually, she decides to give in. "My name," she says quietly, "is Medusa." This explains, if nothing else, the blindfold.
***
Medusa: one of three Gorgon sisters, said to have hair of snakes and hands of brass, scaled skin, and forked tongues; it is said they can petrify anyone who meets their gaze. It is with this vicious creature that Veron finds himself sharing a pleasant meal. It's not near as terrifying an experience as one might expect. They make small talk for a bit and Medusa thanks him for sharing his food.
"It's my pleasure," Veron smiles at the supposed "vicious creature." To him, she looks like a perfectly normal human being. He doubts that the gorgeous woman before him could possibly be the same Medusa he heard about. Something does press on his mind though. "Forgive me if you're not willing to talk about it, but I did find you crying back there. What was all that about?" Medusa turns her head away slightly. "I-I'm sorry," Veron stammers, "I didn't mean to pry..."
She faces him once again. "No, it's alright," she replies, "it'll do me some good to vent anyway." She takes a deep breath. "This may sound childish, but I was being teased by my older sisters."
"That's some harsh teasing; you were a wreck back there!"
"Well, you see, they're immortal, so they don't age. So they will forever be young and cute, while I grow into a tall old hag. I know it doesn't sound like a big deal, but they use such harsh words. They tell me that no man could ever love a woman as old and tall as me. Th-they called me a... Hill Giant...," she mutters this last part.
"That's terrible! Your sisters don't know what they're talking about," Veron assures her. "Why don't I take you home so we can talk some sense into them?"
"N-no, that's alright; I'm not quite ready to go back there yet."
"Oh. Well, then, you should come with me anyway!"
"I-... What?"
"Yeah! I'm going back to shore. I don't have anywhere in particular to go, and I'd love to have some company! And it sounds like you could use some time away from these sisters of yours."
"Veron... I'd love to, really, but--"
"Then it's settled! Let's go!"
"But, Veron, the people will know me by sight! I'm a monster to them!"
"We'll just tell them they're mistaken; no problem! Besides, this could be fun..." Veron has already pushed his boat back into the water. He extends a hand to help Medusa aboard the tiny vessel. She hesitates a moment, then accepts his hand. The two make their way back to the mainland. The waters of the Aegean Sea are much rougher than Veron remembers from the first trip. However, Poseidon decides to spare him yet again for fear of the people discovering the anomaly. When they have sight of the port, Medusa gets antsy.
"Veron?," she asks timidly, "is there any way we could not use the port?"
"Hm? Well, I guess so," he replies, "There's a beach to the south we could ground on." Veron complies with her wish and the two set off on foot. They travel together for about a week, simply enjoying the Grecian countryside and sleeping under the stars. Every time they come close to a town, Medusa urges Veron not to go near it with her. However, he finally convinces her to spend a night in society, eat a warm meal, and sleep in a warm bed. "Whoo! I'm bushed! Let's go hole up at the local inn for the night."
"That won't be necessary; we should stay away from civilization."
"Nonsense! We'll have beds to sleep in and warm meals! I bet the inn's food beats the hell out of the jerky we've been eating for the past week."
"Veron!," she stops him, "the people will recognize me! I can't just go waltzing into a city!"
"OK, tell you what," he reasons with her, "I'll go get a room and bring you back a blanket. You can cover up in that and make your way to the inn with me incognito. How's that sound?"
"I'm not changing your mind, am I?"
"Don't count on it." Veron winks at her and assures her, "It'll be fine; I'll be right back!" With that, he heads into the town to find the inn.
Medusa stands awkwardly on the outskirts of the town, waiting for Veron to return. We should've agreed on a less obvious place to meet. She is literally the only thing around and she sticks out like a sore thumb in her black garb. Not long after Veron leaves, a man from the town approaches her.
"Excuse me, miss, is there anything you need help with?," he asks her.
She turns to face him. "Oh, no, thank you," she replies politely, "I'm just waiting for my traveling companion to return."
Upon seeing her face, the man's eyes widen. "M-muh-mo-," he sputters, "Monster! Beast! Secure the children!" At this alarm, other men appear. Medusa hears their cries and curses clearly. "It's her!" "The Gorgon witch!" "What does it want with us?" "Why is it here?" "Athena save us!" "She must be disguised." Veron, she pleads in her head, please come back before I commit another sin... I'd hate to get kicked out of the town; you were so looking forward to sleeping in a bed for the night...
Meanwhile, Veron secures a room for him and a traveling companion at the inn. However, it doesn't take long for the commotion to reach him. "Monster! Monster on the outskirts! To arms!" To this, Veron brandishes his sword, a sterling rapier. "Point the way," he tells the messenger.
"What're you gonna do with that thing," the innkeeper asks incredulously, inspecting Veron's blade.
"I'm going to make sure my companion is safe and take out whatever beast endangers this town," Veron glowers back at him.
"But your sword is so... small..."
"Judge the blade after I stab that thing in the face with it." With that, Veron takes off in the direction of the commotion. When he arrives, he fears the worst; the villagers are gathered around the place he left Medusa. He pushes his way through the crowd.
"Why won't it just go away?" "What is it doing, just standing there?" "Take yourself back to the underworld where you belong, wench!" Medusa endures their words. She will wait for Veron until the townspeople cast the first stone. Then, one voice rings clear above the din: "Where is it?!" She gasps and looks up. Sure enough, Veron pushes his way through the crowd's front line. "Right there!," a man replies to Veron's demand.
"Where?!"
"Right in front of you, you dolt!"
"Hey, love," Veron calls to Medusa, "could you move aside? I need to get a clearer view of this 'monster' everyone's going on about."
"Uh, V-veron...," she manages to stammer.
"She is the monster, you damned fool!" Veron understands now. She tried to warn him, but he refused to listen. He sighs in exasperation and sheathes his blade. Placing himself between the mob and Medusa, he scolds the crowd.
"How dare you?!," he says, "How could you pick on by poor wife, who was blinded in a very bizarre gardening accident?" He reaches his arm up and puts it around Medusa's shoulder. He nudges her in hopes that she'll play along.
She doesn't turn her head towards him. Reaching her hand up to feel his face, she cries, "Veron? darling, is that you?"
"Yes, love, I'm here now," he consoles her.
"Oh, i was s-so sc-scared," she begins sobbing exaggeratedly, "I wa-was st-standing here w-waiting for you and I heard all these vo-voices yelling about a mo-monster." She kneels down to "cry" into his chest.
"There, there," he coos, stroking her hair, "they won't bother you anymore." He looks up at the mob and continues his scolding, "You all ought to be ashamed of yourselves! Why, she wouldn't hurt a fly, would you Med--," he stops himself short as Medusa suddenly looks up at him. He is sure her eyes are wide with fear. "--ine," he finishes slowly. Yes, Medine, the name of my lovely blind wife is Medine; isn't that right, Medine?"
"Oh-Oh! Y-yes, Medine is a lovely name. Which is mine. My name is Medine. Of course!"
"That's right. Come, Medine, I've got a room waiting for us at the inn."
"Yes, please, take me away from these horrible people who clearly don't know how to treat a lady."
The crowd, dumbfounded, parts to let the "couple" through. Medusa walks arm in arm with Veron, while she extends her other hand as if to feel for obstacles. The small procession is met with awkward looks from the town. "Veron," she whispers to him, "they're staring." "They're just jealous, I'm sure," he reassures her, "Just keep it up until we get to the room."
In the inn, the keeper panics. "Gah! You were supposed to stab it in the face, not bring it here!"
"Ohhhhh, it's happening agaaaain!," Medusa wails and sobs onto Veron's shoulder.
"Please, sir," Veron scolds the innkeeper, "You're upsetting my wife! She's seen enough commotion for one day." The innkeeper gives Veron a sideways look. "Experienced! Not seen, obviously, because she's blind, right, Medine?"
"Right!," Medusa quickly agrees with him, suddenly not crying, "I am blind and my name is Medine."
"Yes, well, come now, and I'll lead you up the stairs."
"O-of course!" They hurry up the stairs, find the room and slam the door. They both let out deep breaths and collapse to their knees on the floor. They look up to meet each other's faces. Veron grins like an idiot and stifles a laugh. Medusa chuckles in turn, and they both laugh. They laugh at the tension of the town, at their ridiculous story, and at their bad acting.
"You see?," Veron says once he catches his breath, "I told you it would be fun."
Medusa takes a good look at their room for the first time. "Um, Veron, are you sure this is our room?," she asks hesitantly.
Veron opens the door and checks the location to what the innkeeper told him. "Yep, this is it, all right. Why?"
"Th-there's only one bed here..."
"Oh." He thought he specified a room for two, and didn't refer to his companion as a romantic one. "Meh, this is an easy one," he tells her, "as a gentleman, I'll give the lady the bed. I have a bedroll I can use."
"I-- are you sure? You really wanted to sleep in a bed..."
"I'm positive; besides, you earned it with your quick improv skills."
"Veron," she says coyly, "I do believe you're teasing me."
"Well, maybe a bit. At any rate, let's get some sleep; I want to be out of here as early as possible."
"I agree. Good night, Veron."
"Good night."
***
Earlier, during the commotion caused by the appearance of Medusa, a messenger shot off in the direction of the nearest town for help. As it just so happens, the half-god Perceus was staying there on an errand from Athena. The errand is the slaying of the mortal Gorgon, Medusa. Naturally, the news that she was only in the next town excited him, and he set off at once. "But sir, -hah- if we leave now -hah- it will be the middle of the night before we arrive," the messenger tells him, still winded from his run to the city.
"Worry not, midnight though it may be, we shall take this horse."
"Is... is that your horse?"
"No, but I'm sure its owner won't miss it in the name of Athena. Now come, we ride!" With that, Perceus and the messenger ride off back towards the town where Veron and Medusa lay sleeping.
They arrive and barge into the inn. "Innkeeper! Where is she?!," Perceus demands. Groggy, the innkeeper emerges from his private quarters.
"What's this about?," he yawns, "Oh, Prince Perceus, what brings you to my humble establishment?"
"I received news from this lad earlier," he motions to the messenger, who almost collapses from exhaustion, "that the Gorgon Medusa attacked this town."
"Well, 'attacked' isn't really the right word; it was more like she stood on the outskirts until some short man with a tiny sword came to her side and claimed her as his 'blind wife.' I don't think they have anyone fooled, but they're staying here. I'm hoping that they'll leave in the morning without causing a scene."
Perceus contorts his face in disgust. "She's staying here?! You're letting a beast as dangerous as that stay here?!"
"Well, her white-haired companion paid for a room for two, so why not?"
"How irresponsible can one man possibly be?!" Perceus's voice carries throughout the inn, waking its inhabitants. Veron and Medusa are no exception. They listen intently to the half-god's booming voice and soon realize that their stay will be cut short.
"What's out the window?," Veron whispers to her.
"The whole town's awake," she quietly replies, "and they've got torches."
"Wonderful," Veron mutters in a deadpan tone. Perceus's footsteps pound loudly as he ascends the stairs. "Well, I hope he doesn't expect a warm welcome." Veron positions himself in front of the door. "You hide in the shadows," he directs her, "don't move until I come for you." Medusa moves to a place behind the door swing.
Perceus throws open the door, only to be met with a cold glare from a pair of green eyes. "Good evening," Veron greets him coolly, "Can I help you with something?" Perceus attempts to force his way through Veron, but is stopped by the foreigner's surprising strength.
"Out of the way, foreigner," Perceus commands, "you are laying with a dangerous creature and a whore."
"I've already been warned -falsely- about the first, but that second remark is just rude! Who do you think you are to disturb my sleep and call my blind wife a whore?!"
"Oh, right, the innkeeper has already been kind enough to share your ridiculous alibi with me," Perceus sneers. "And, how, might I ask, did she loose her sight?"
"It was a very bizarre gardening accident."
"Do tell."
"It's a long story and I'm tired, good night." Veron tries to shut the door, but is stopped by Perceus's surprising strength.
"Prove to me that the woman with you right now is not the Gorgon Medusa, and I will apologize to you, bid you good night, and leave you in peace."
"Or, you could just leave this until morning."
"Or, I could cut you down where you stand."
"That one sounds good, but let's take it outside; it would be rude of me to bleed on this kind innkeeper's floor."
"Oh! So you will fight for the harlot, will you? Very well, but if I don't see you before my patience wears thin, then I will set this place ablaze and smoke you out."
Veron extends his hand. "You've got yourself a duel." Perceus leaves to wait for Veron outside the inn. "I'll make this quick," he says to the shadow where Medusa hides.
"Veron," she begins...
"Don't," he cuts her off, "I'll be back soon."
"Are you really going to fight him with that?"
"Aww, geez, you too?! Watch the fight if you can, I'll not have my blade judged any longer!" Slightly frustrated, Veron grabs his sheathed rapier and goes to meet Perceus. Shortly after he leaves, Medusa peeks her head out into the light of the hall, where an ambush awaits her! Several townspeople grab her and bind her using chains supplied by Perceus. The enchanted chains react to whomever grips the spike attached to the end. As it just so happens, the chains are reacting to the desire to bind this woman. They drag the bound Medusa to the site where Perceus and Veron will soon duel...
While this happens, Veron exits the inn and confronts Perceus and the posse of townspeople who have collected behind him. "Well, this is unexpected," Perceus jeers, "I would've thought you'd try to escape from the window!"
"Sorry to disappoint you," Veron retorts, "I know you had better things to do tonight than die."
"LET ME GO!" Medusa's voice rings from the inn door.
"Prince Perceus! We have her!," Medusa's captors report to their ring leader. They take the spikes and drive them into the ground, holding the bound Gorgon in place
"Well done! I'll be right there! But first," Perceus returns his attention to Veron, "I'll give you one last chance; just leave her to me, go back to sleep, and head out in the morning."
"I've got a better idea," Veron growls, "why don't you go back to the rock you crawled out from?" With this, Veron unsheathes his blade once more. Perceus stifles a laugh.
"A-HA! What is that?! Is it supposed to be a needle?," he laughs harder seeing the rapier, "Oh, truly, foreign lands should pose no threat if this is the peak of their weaponry!" At this, the audience roars with laughter. Veron, however, remains steeled. Once the laughter dies down, he addresses the haughty half-god.
"Well, if you truly feel this blade is of no threat to you, then I invite you to taste it. Earlier you said you would cut me down where I stand. Well, this is where I stand."
"Ah, very well. Please, give my regards to the ferryman on the River Styx." With that, Perceus calmly walks up to Veron and delivers a swing across where his neck was. Veron ducks the blow. Perceus's sword comes down; Veron sidesteps. A low swipe; a leap. "Is this how foreigners fight?! By not attacking?!" Perceus swings at a diagonal; Veron avoids it and makes his first strike: a straight pierce into the shoulder of Perceus's sword arm! The rapier hits its mark and severs the nerve. Perceus drops his sword as his arm hangs limp by his side, useless. Veron kicks the stunned prince to the ground and turns his attention to his bound companion.
He dashes toward her. Some townsfolk try to hinder him and meet their doom at his edge. Medusa's captors scatter as he approaches. Veron slips his blade through the rings on the chains, only to find that the chains begin binding the sword! However, This leaves Medusa with a free hand. "Dammit!," Veron curses the chains, "get off my sword!" Suddenly, the chains go limp.
"Veron," Medusa says quietly, "I'll take it from here." She grabs the grounded spike of one chain, loosens her other arm, and takes hold of the other. She now controls the chains. Perceus climbs to his feet.
"Kill them!," he shrieks, "KILL THEM BOTH!"
The chains slump to the ground. Medusa takes a wide stance. She bends at the waist and places her hands on the ground; her hair sprawls about like a violet puddle. Never before has a human-like creature looked so ready to strike. Medusa and Veron make for an imposing duo, but the townspeople sorely outnumber them. They spring off in opposite directions! Medusa launches a spike into the chest of an oncoming man, pulls him in and delivers a shattering kick to his ribcage. Veron lacerates the arm of a large man with a bludgeon. She bounds one and stabs him in the throat. He dodges, turns, and pierces one's heart from behind.
They each take a fair share of angry assailants, but still wind up back-to-back against a wall. Truly, numbers work as the conquering factor. Veron considers for a moment; this battle could be over if he just casts a spell. Just as he is about to speak up to warn her, "Get behind me."
"What?," Veron questions her, dumbfounded.
"I said get behind me and SHUT YOUR EYES!"
Veron knows what's coming, so she doesn't have to tell him twice. He steps back and shuts his eyes tight. at the same time, Medusa reaches for her blindfold. She calls the name of the curse to release it, "Breaker Gorgon!" She exposes her bare eyes to the inhabitants of the town. Some stand still, some fall in their tracks, some crumble, all become stone. Veron feels a hand on his shoulder. "It's safe now," she tells him. He opens his eyes to see Medusa's blindfolded face. They decide to leave, but not after reaffirming the death toll. One thing is certain after they check all the statues.
Perceus is nowhere to be found.
***
"Was it really a good idea to take all this? I mean... it's not ours..." Medusa, on horseback beside Veron, looks over her shoulder at the sack of supplies strapped to "her" horse.
"Well, I didn't think they would get much more use out of it." "His" horse is equally stocked. In each bag, Veron packed a bedroll, food, and various tools. Of the townspeople, none were spared by Medusa's mystic eyes. Everyone, including women, children, and the elderly, gathered to watch Perceus take on the foreigner and slay the mortal Gorgon. Therefore, everyone not killed in the battle prior to Medusa releasing her eyes was turned to stone. Everyone, except one... "So who was that guy?," Veron asks her.
"Prince Perceus, the son of Zeus and the mortal woman Danae. He wouldn't trouble us if Athena hadn't sicked him on me."
"Athena?" So far, Veron's primary source of income in this world has been Athena. "Why has she got it out for you so bad?" Medusa falls silent at this. Veron sighs, "Ah, if you don't want to talk about it it's alright."
"Many years ago, Athena accused me of laying with the sea god in her temple."
"Oh..." This conversation is getting awkward...
"That is partially true," she continues, "only, to be more accurate, Poseidon violated me in Athena's temple."
"Wait; she blames you for that?!"
"Well, it's easier to go after me because I'm killable. Remember, Poseidon is a god; as such, he's immortal. I, on the other hand, am the only mortal Gorgon."
"I see... Not that I want her to get to you or anything, but why didn't she just kill you herself?"
"The gods aren't like that. They're very passive-aggressive in how they deal with insult. Besides, she already cursed me with a petrifying gaze and a hideous body."
Veron looks her up and down. "That's what you call hideous, eh? Damn, I can't wait to see someone beautiful!"
"Actually, this mask I wear, along with my own force of will, keeps Athena's curse at bay. I can't do much about my eyes, so I cover them to protect those I care for. The curse is still here, but I keep it sealed away. Back at the town, I only partially let it out to intensify my eyes; if I fully unleash its effects, I will go berserk and become a vile beast that kills whatever I don't petrify."
"Wow... That sounds a lot more aggressive than passive."
Suddenly, the wind carries the sound of great beating wings and a cacophony of harsh female voices. "Harpies!," Medusa warns. She and Veron take evasive action, but the bird-women are on them in seconds. The harpies spook Veron's horse and it throws him to the ground. He curses as the beast gallops into the distance. Medusa keeps full control over her horse and charges into the swarm of harpies to pick Veron up. "Veron!," she shouts to him, "I can't ride with a passenger and fight at the same time!"
"I'm on it," he replies, "just give me a sec!" He concentrates on his inventory, a pocket in subspace reserved just for him. Clearly, he will receive no aid from Athena while he travels with Medusa, so he'll have to bend the rules a bit. "Bend" here can also be read as "shatter with a hammer." He summons a ring engraved with a set of dwarven runes. The harpies close the distance to the fleeing riders.
"Any time now!," Medusa goads him.
"Here we go!" Veron slips the ring onto his left middle finger. "Spellblade: Bolt!" As a Red Mage, Veron can't project the spells he casts; he needs to "charge" something with the spell. Most often, this is his sword, hence the term "spellblade." However, to make up for a lack of ranged attacks, this ring was developed. Instead of a conventional weapon, the Red Mage charges the ring, which then projects the image of a bow. Then, the Mage "pulls the spell back" and "releases" it as if it were a bow and arrow. Now, Veron grabs the spell from the ring and pulls it taught, taking aim at the nearest harpy. He releases and nails her with the lightning arrow and readies the next spell. The harpies scream at this turn of events and hesitate.
"Veron, what was that?!" The lightning from Veron's "bow" surprises Medusa as much as the harpies.
"Just keep riding, I'll tell you later! Bolt!" He looses another magic arrow.
"Can't you use something other than lightning?!"
"Of course, but why?" As if in response to Veron's question, a bolt of lightning rains from above, hitting the ground close to the racing horse, followed by a deafening clap of thunder.
"That was just a warning shot!," Medusa tells him, "Lightning is Zeus's domain!"
"Right! No lightning!" Veron takes a second to change gears. "Spellbade: Shard!" An icicle pierces another harpy and quickly freezes her over. It falls to the ground and shatters like glass. The remaining harpies, no longer interested in their dangerous prey, finally give the chase up to pursue something with less fight to it.
The two ride on for a bit to put as much distance between where they were and where they are, but Medusa brings the horse to a halt when a certain landmark appears in the distance. On the horizon, the Parthenon stands pristine against the clear sky. Veron dismounts. "What are you doing?," Medusa asks him worriedly.
"Set up a camp here," he instructs her, "I'll be back before sundown. If anyone comes close, stone 'em."
"But, what if they're friendly?"
"Stone 'em anyway, just to be safe."
"Should I stone you when you return?"
"Maybe, but only if I'm too rowdy."
"What if I want to stone you anyway?"
"Then I probably deserve it; I'll see you in a bit." With that, Veron leaves for the Parthenon. Athena is there waiting for him when he enters.
"You pulled a bold stunt with the harpies," she chides him. "May I ask why you've come here?"
"You certainly may. I'm here to return your generous gifts; I don't think I'll be using them any longer."
"Oh? And why is that?"
"Because I'm done interacting with Greek citizens. I'll stick to the wilderness from here on." He offers her back the infinite purse and water horn, then quick-changes back into his Red Mage attire before returning the clothes. "Besides, I told you at the very beginning that I'd give them back before I left."
"Yes, but that was when you were going to steal from my temple," she speaks in a threateningly low voice, "Surely by now you know what happens to those who defile my temple."
"I sure do," he replies.
"You would be wise to leave her be, Veron the Red."
"Occasionally, I like to take wisdom and give it the proverbial middle finger. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get back to my friend before one of your goons shows up." He leaves with a flippant wave and trudges back to the spot where Medusa awaits his arrival. His "new" appearance startles her.
"You there! hold your ground or suffer the consequences!," she warns.
"I didn't think I'd been that rowdy, but stone me if you must," he replies, removing his feathered hat and lowering his mantle, "just make sure I get a clear sight of your eyes before I'm completely gone."
"Veron?" She stares at him in bewilderment, "what did she do to you?"
"I have much to tell you. Let's build a fire and talk over dinner."
He gives her a brief background of himself. He tells her of his world, of his powers, of his misfortune with dimension-hopping. "I've gotta tell you: it's not a fun experience; I wouldn't recommend it. If I knew how to get back home it'd be different, but as it stands I'm stranded here until the shift kicks in again, and then I'll be stranded there, too."
"That actually explains a lot. Your mannerisms don't fit this place and you speak of the gods so casually..."
"They wanted me to cover myself up, not use any magic or tell my true story to the people, so they bribed me with money, water, and clothes, but I can't accept that now."
"Now?"
"Well, now they've sent an assassin after my traveling companion," he smiles at her, "and that's something I just won't stand for."
"Veron!," she scolds him, "you could've just lived out the rest of your time here as a king! Why would you throw that away by renouncing the gods' protection?!"
"Because I'd rather travel with you than travel safely." She stares at him through the blindfold. "It's more fun," he adds. She blushes fiercely and turns away from him.
Heaving her shoulders in a sigh she mutters, "Idiot."
"There, you see? The goddess of wisdom and an idiot are simply destined to not get along," he reasons. Medusa laughs at this in spite of her frustration with the elf, then he laughs, which makes her laugh harder. At the end of it, they sit at the base of a tree, giggling away the last of the evening's silliness. She leans her head onto his shoulder and he responds by putting his arm around her.
"You know," she says, "that wasn't even very funny."
"Yeah," he agrees, "that was pretty bad." Medusa chuckles again as they gaze into their campfire. "Medusa, I have to ask you something that's been bothering me since I first met you."
"Oh, my, that long? I'll do my best to satisfy your curiosity."
"How do you see through that thing?"
She pulls herself to her feet and turns to him. "Get your back away from the tree and close your eyes," she instructs. He complies. "Now, hold still, and absolutely no peeking until I say otherwise, got it?" He responds with an endearing "yes'm" and she gets to work. She takes her blindfold off and kneels behind Veron. He feels her hands gently move his hair, then something soft covers his eyes. "Not yet," she tells him, then he hears her giggling.
"What? What is it?"
"It doesn't suit you at all," she laughs. He hears the rustle of her feet as she takes her place behind him again, "Alright, now you can look, but don't turn around without warning me."
He opens his eyes to find his vision relatively unhindered, even with little light. "Oh, wow," he whispers, "I can see perfectly."
She props her chin on his shoulder. "It's a gift from Poseidon," she relates, "the material flows like water. Much like a murky sea, the water has low visibility, so it's only clear right up against your face. Any further, and it becomes opaque. So the wearer of the blindfold can see out, but others can't see in. Close your eyes again." She removes the blindfold and continues, "It's also enchanted to keep Athena's curse at bay; if I take it off for too long, I'll change into the fierce creature she wants me to be." She yawns. "It's getting late; we should get some sleep."
"Ah, right," he breaks out of the trance her voice set him in, "I'll snuff out the fire, you set up the bedrolls." He sets to work extinguishing the fire, pleased with the results of this day. However...
"V-veron?," Medusa sounds a bit distressed, "remember when your horse ran off?"
"Hm? Of course, why do you ask?"
"Well, each horse had one bedroll..." Oh. Right. Well.
"Ah, that's an easy one," Veron says to her again, "I'll be the gentleman and give the lady the bedroll."
"No."
"No? I won't let you sleep on the bare ground."
"No, I won't sand for that." She walks over to him. "Is the fire out?"
"It is, but I still won't let you sleep on the ground."
"I'm not sleeping on the ground." She places her hand on his back and guides him over to the bedroll, which she has fully opened up. "Lay down." He does, and she lays next to him.
"M-medusa, I--" she cuts him off by placing a finger on his lips. She moves her face close to his, and the traveling companions kiss, slowly, awkwardly at first, then more and more passionately. That night, the two make love under the stars.
***
To be continued in other post because of holyshitwallotext.
