Chapter Two Hundred and Sixty. Crashing the Vacation.

Name:Monroe Author:
Chapter Two Hundred and Sixty. Crashing the Vacation.

"Yorrick?" Bob asked, both surprised and confused by sudden appearance of the Warlock at his campsite along the Blue Ridge Parkway.

"Good afternoon!" Yorrick replied enthusiastically. "I heard you were on vacation, and I'm sort of waiting for the next wave, so I thought I'd find you and take a look at whatever is so interesting to you."Follow current novels on novelb((in).(com)

"How did you find me?" Bob asked.

"Bob," Yorrick shook his head sadly, "you're the second most powerful person on this planet right now. Your government is keeping an eye on you, and I got the sense that they were relieved to have me come visit you, rather than hanging around their offices, making a nuisance of myself."

"Of course they are, and of course you did," Bob sighed. "Can I safely assume that you understand the purpose of a vacation?" Bob asked.

"I do," Yorrick assured him.

"Then you know not to talk any sort of business or politics, or religion, or anything at all stressful," Bob replied. "That said, friends, this is Yorrick Wrathsbane, High Seat of the Warlocks Guild, Third Pillar of the Karcerian Empire and Emmisary to the governments of Earth. Yorrick, these are Dave, Amanda, Eddi, Wayna, Bailli, Erick, and Jessica."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Yorrick smiled brightly, offering a handshake to each person.

"I'd say likewise," Erick replied with a frown, "But you consort with demons."

"Ah, no religion or politics!" Yorrick waved a finger with a good-natured grin. "Bob's on vacation, no talking shop!"

"Besides," Yorrick said in what would have been a conspiratorial whisper had it not been loud enough to be heard twenty feet away, "I'm the fun kind of evil. Little e, not capital E. I'm not going around kicking puppies and cutting purses, or throats. I'm giving out free samples of ecstasy at the party, and making sure there are plenty of condoms for the orgy." Yorrick finished with a wink.

"So, what are we doing?" Yorrick asked, looking at the picnic table that was covered with D&D books and paraphernalia.

"We're playing a roleplaying game called Dungeons and Dragons," Bob explained, "which, oddly enough, is a lot like life on Thayland."

"Really?" Yorrick asked happily, "can I play?"

"Why is he here?" Erick hissed quietly.

"You know my policy on Dragons," Bob replied.

"Yes," Bailli was the one to reply, "we're well aware of your extreme paranoia."

"Yorrick felt comfortable teasing the King of Greenwold. My guess is that he is tier nine, which puts him on the same playing field, and thus my rules regarding Dragons apply to him as well," Bob shook his head. "As long as he isn't actively committing evil acts, I can't help but feel like having him with us is better than setting him lose on the unsuspecting populace of Earth."

"I can hear you, you know?" Yorrick called from across the camp.

"I did not, in fact, know that," Bob replied.

Yorrick walked over and shook his head in sadness, which was belied by the smile on his face. "Your senses tend to sharpen as you tier up," he explained. "But yes, Kellan and I are equals, in terms of power," he admitted, "although I'd never want to go up against him, as I'm not much of a fighter."

Bob winced as his Divine Blessing kicked in.

Yorrick made a face. "Ok, so I'm actually a pretty good fighter, but still, the collateral damage of a dust up between us would be devastating, and honestly, Kellan's pretty easy to get along with as long as you keep in mind that he's a dragon and that he's constantly fighting his draconic urges."

"So you're on par with the King of Greenwold," Dave mused.

"That I am," Yorrick agreed, "I'd say I'm about the third most powerful person in the Empire. I'd say I don't like to brag, but I kind of do," he finished with a grin.

"This is verging dangerously into the realm of interdimensional politics," Bob warned them. "You know the rules, no politics on vacation."

Bob was not religious, and while he'd found several gods on Thayland, he'd managed to mostly avoid any entanglements, save for Huron's request that the accept a divine blessing of Veritas, which in retrospect, was rather ironically devious. That said, the Catholics on Earth did not need a crisis of faith right now.

"In that case, welcome to the party," Bob finally replied.

Kellan grinned as he surveyed the land far beneath his wings.

The people of Earth, the regular people that was, not their politicians, were delightfully constructive. Square, mostly unadorned buildings rose from previously unspoiled land like monsters in a wave. Some nations needed only a single small valley, while the Indian and Chinese had required dozens.

He snorted, recalling the brazen request, cast in benign bureaucratic terms, to classify these areas as 'embassies.' As if he would ever cede his sovereignty over his land.

No, the politicians of Earth were a delight to engage wits against, but were worse than useless when the time came for action. It wasn't that they simply failed to act out of indecision, that would have been bad enough, instead they actively fought against taking any action at all.

Luckily, his show of force had cowed them, allowing the people beneath them to act. It was a common theme in every government. If you peeled away the useless dross, the petty bureaucrats, you would find dedicated people, very quietly working as hard as possible, often fighting the system they were a part of, to keep things moving.

Those people needed to protected and nutured, but the sheer number of people that comprised the governments of Earth made that task difficult.

His keen eyes spotted a group of people gathered around a bonfire. More people than there ought to have been at this time of day. Dropping down, he hovered above them, invisible to their manaless eyes, and listened.

He was able to easily identify the problem. These people came from Papau New Guinea, specifically the lowlands which were hot and humid. Despite the requests of the two men who had been rushed through a rapid leveling program to become curators, they'd arrived in their every day clothing, which was ill-suited for the cool summers, and near freezing nights of greenwold.

Kellan wasn't entirely surprised to see this, as he'd encountered it twice before, although those equatorial countries had been part of the African continent. From what he understood of Earth's incredibly complicated and occasionally contradictory geopolitical landscape, these people should have been sheltered and prepared by their neighbors and political allies, Australia.

Regardless, they weren't able to accomplish much if they had to constantly warm themselves by the fire.

Flying back up, he dropped and his invisibility and slowly descended. He'd learned not to suddenly appear around the people from Earth in his true form, as they tended to panic.

"I am Kellan Gavardes, Soveriegn of the Skies, Blessed of Vi'Radia, King of Greenwold," he bellowed, drawing their attention as they huddled together. "I have come to inspect your progress, but you appear ill-prepared to thrive on Greenwold."

Kellan landed a hundred or so feet away from them, then employed a burst of light as he assumed his human form. He'd found that theatrics went a long way.

"You've no doubt noticed that my land is much colder than your own," Kellan smiled good-naturedly. He deliberately cultivated an affable persona when in his human form, while allowing his true majesty and power to manifest only when he resumed his true form. This was a long standing practice, and it worked to ensure that when he needed instant obedience, his true form would ensure it, while his human form would be approachable enough that no one would hide a problem or issue due to fear.

The men nodded hesitantly, and Kellan shook his head. "There will always be shelter beneath my wings," he intoned, then completed the ritual he'd begun when he'd identified their plight. Warm clothing, from thick socks, to heavy woolen shirts and pants, to thick jackets and sturdy boots appeared in front of him in a depression in the ground that hadn't been there before.

He'd transmuted the dirt and stone into what he'd needed.

"Please, take these," Kellan urged them. "You'll accomplish much more for your country if you aren't having warm yourselves by the fire every few minutes."

With that, Kellan employed another burst of light and resumed his true form, leaping into the air and beating his wings as he soared back into the sky.

His thoughts turned to the Karcerian Empire. Yorrick's appearance hadn't been entirely unexpected. His position, on the other hand, was quite different than what he'd been prepared for. Kellan had expected the Empire to flex their overwhelming might, and steal the entire operation out from under him.

In retrospect, he hadn't given the Empire enough credit. Most of his dealings had been with the Church, and the antagonistic nature of the diametrically opposed belief systems had ensured that those interactions were barely civil.

The Emperor, the Warlocks Guild, and the Crimson Bulwark hadn't had any part in deporting worshippers of the Light, nor had he ever apprehended any of their spies. Their tone was much more reasonable, and he was afraid it would be much effective when dealing with Earth.

Yorrick had been charming, and given his position, he likely had the wits and wherewithal to confound and convince Earth's politicians, swaying them toward the Empire.

Ultimately, Kellan understood the Empire's concerns. He was one of the few in Greenwold who knew the truth, that the worshippers of the Dark Gods had been cast off the planet Perceus, and settled on Thayland. He knew that his nation represented a return of a small portion of that population to the Gods of Light, and he further knew that the despite the zealotry and vindictiveness of the Church of Darkness, that the Empire had dealt with them fairly.

Yorrick's reasonable request that they go home after it was safe, and that they not imbalance the population of Thayland toward the Gods of Light, was not unreasonable. Not to Kellan at anyrate. Even Huron, who was normally even tempered and reasonable, became a triffle difficult when it came to those who worshipped the Gods of Darkness.

It was a rather thorny puzzle, and one he needed to devote some more time to considering.