Leon looks at Big Bear nervously.  Sure, it hasn't moved for two hours, ever since the Knight Sabers stopped it dead in its tracks, but after the recent outbreaks of buma insanity and nearly getting vaporized along with MegaTokyo he isn't willing to let down his guard just yet.  The A.D. Police is busy hauling away the bumas (or what's left of them anyway) while the fusion plant emergency teams are plugging up the holes left by the drilling machine.

Leon (to Daily) : Jeeze, how much longer are they going to leave
this damn thing here?  It's giving me the creeps.
Daily (looking back at Leon) : Sgt. Yamara is still scoping it
out with the surveillance teams.  They want to make sure it won't
be going anywhere. (a head pops out of Big Bear's top hatch)
Yamara : Sir!  You might to take a look at this before we close
up shop.
Leon (climbs up the small access ladder on the driller's side
until he reaches the sergeant) : What?  What did you find?

 Sergeant Yamara leads Leon and Daily into Big Bear and through a
small maze of corridors.  Leon notices that some of these doors
have been opened by force, probably by some kind of blaster
weapon.  The group finally reaches its destination : it appears
to be the control room, but judging from the damage it doesn't
look like it will be operational again without a total refit.  In
the far corner of the room is what appears to be some kind of
life support unit, but it too has been completely destroyed.
Leon's face betrays a little bit of surprise from the mess.

Yamara (notices Leon's expression) : Yessir, it's quite a sight,
isn't it?
Leon : I wonder what happened to her driver?
Yamara : That's the strange part about all this, sir.  When my
men and I first discovered this chamber we found what appeared to
be a buma of some sort (points to the floor to indicate where).
We couldn't actually tell just what kind; apparently the Knight
Sabers wanted to make perfectly sure it didn't do any more of its
dirty work.  What we found looked more like a puddle of melted
circuitry and framework than anything else.  Since this room is
so deep in Big Bear we had to move out a little to radio for the
cleanup crew.  That's when the REALLY weird stuff started
happening...  As we headed back to this control room there was
some kind of mist rolling out from inside the chamber.
Daily : Gas?
Yamara : That's what we thought at first, but a quick reading
from the scanner showed it was nothing more than fog.
Leon : Fog?  INSIDE Big Bear?
Yamara : We checked twice, sir, but it WAS fog.  We made our way
back into the room, and slowly the fog lifted.  When it was
completely gone (Yamara pauses as if embarrassed, then continues)
the body had vanished.
Leon and Daily : WHAT?!!
Leon (grabbing Yamara by his jacket) : How in the UNIVERSE could
you have lost a buma?!
Yamara (waving his hands slightly) : We DIDN'T lose the body,
sir!  It just... VANISHED.  We looked everywhere, but there are
no other exit ways, and we were between it and the main hatch, so
it couldn't have left THAT way.  Besides, it was in such bad
shape that there was no WAY it could have moved on its own!
Leon : Then what do you want me to think?  It was some kind of
ghost and disappeared in a puff of smoke?! (turns to Daily) Get
every man we've got here and search this entire complex for any
sign of buma activity, I don't care HOW small!  Sergeant, I want
a complete sweep of Big Bear!  Tear this thing apart bolt by bolt
if you have to, I don't want to take any chances. (Daily nods and
heads off)
Yamara : And what if we don't find it, sir?
Leon : We'll find it (looks at where Yamara had been pointing
earlier).  If it's anywhere on this planet, we'll find it...
(image fades to black)

                         Part  One
 Something is wrong.  THIS shouldn't have happened.  A sudden
sense of complete disorientation, a feeling that the ground has
just fallen out from below.  Have enough systems been restored to
initiate a basic computer link up?  No, the damage is still too
severe.  Poor Celia, even after emptying every single ounce of
offensive power against him there was no way she could have
killed him : he had further modified his body beyond anything her
father could have designed.  So long as there was at least five
percent of the original body intact the nano-cortical fibers
could be maintained.  But HAD five percent been left?  He
couldn't tell just yet, the incredible damage made it difficult
to access any diagnostic systems, if any had even been left.  NO,
it can't happen, he won't let it!  There would be no way he would
allow a mere human take the pleasure of usurping a GOD of his
rightful place!  But it might be possible she did...  He had
already sent commands that basic sensory equipment be among the
primary systems in repair, but for some reason there seems to be
no sign of Big Bear.  Perhaps the A.D. Police had hauled him off,
or even finished the job the Knight Sabers had left behind?  Not
likely, he would have been able to sense SOMETHING.  He knows he
had begun to see something in the shadows, and if he can recall
correctly they were wearing standard police uniforms.  The idiots
thought him dead, how amusing.  He had originally planned on
being hauled off for study and then turn on his captors when his
motor functions had been reactivated.  But something strange had
happened; the control room filled up with a strange fog.  It
seemed to creep from out of the metalwork in the floor.  Since he
couldn't move, much less think straight, all he could do was
watch the Mists fill the entire room.  Judging from the shouts
the fog seemed to have surprised the police as well.  And then
the shouts stopped.  And now here he is, wondering why he can't
hear anything or see anything through the fog.  His eyes have
regenerated enough for a standard infrared scan.  Curiouser and
curiouser... the Mist doesn't even show on his scans.  But he
KNOWS that it's there, he can see it with normal vision.  Wait.
Diagnostic systems are coming on-line.  Accessing.

[EIGHTY-SEVEN PERCENT DAMAGE TO MAIN UNIT : MAIN POWER SYSTEMS
HAVE BEEN SEVERELY DAMAGED.  CPU IS SIX-PERCENT FUNCTIONAL.
RECOMMEND REALLOCATION OF REPAIR SYSTEMS UNTIL AT LEAST
FIFTY-PERCENT IMPROVEMENT]

He acknowledges the request and sets up the new routine.  Six
percent, no wonder it's so hard to think.  With so much damage it
could take a while to begin moving again.  At least the internal
chronometer is working, so he knows he's still alive.  He looks
at the Mists once more, and sees that there has been no change in
them, they're still floating in front of him.  Well, it's the
last thing he's going to see for a little while since he needs to
deactivate the sensory systems to grant the repair systems more
power.  He shuts of the vision first, then kills the sound.  All
that he can sense now is the passage of time.  Largo lies in
wait, counting each second of darkness.

[PROGRESS REPORT : CPU IS AT FIFTY-SIX PERCENT OPERATIONAL
CAPACITY.  POWER SYSTEMS ARE NOW WITHIN "SAFE" PARAMETERS.  MAIN
UNIT IS AT MINIMAL OPERATIONAL CAPACITY.  RECOMMEND CONTINUED
ALLOCATION OF CURRENT SYSTEMS REPAIR TO MAIN SYSTEM]

Forget it.  He's been in darkness for almost four days.  The
repairs will just have to get along without the extra power.

[ACKNOWLEDGED.  UNIT IS AT COMBAT READINESS LEVEL EIGHT]

Level eight?  Then he'd better avoid anything stronger than a
standard servant buma.  Largo decides to take another look at his
surroundings.  All sensory systems back on-line.  Once again he
can see, hear...  What in the WORLD...?  The Mist has gone, but
this certainly isn't MegaTokyo.  He's just lying in the middle of
a dark forest surrounded by old, rotting leaves.  The police
couldn't have been stupid enough to throw his body away.  Perhaps
a buma follower made off with his remains and hid him.  Hid him
where?  Enough guessing, search out the nearest computer-ready
line, establish a low level link-up to a weather satellite and
determine exact location.

[SEARCHING.  SEARCHING.  SEARCHING.  NO COMPUTER-READY LINES IN
DETECTION FIELD]
 

Nothing at all?  So much for his Global Positioning System...
This is impossible, no buma would travel out of range from even a
standard maintenance jack.  Perhaps HE had moved himself.  No,
not in his current state.  This was one huge mystery to him.
Largo attempts to stand, and finds that he's partially mobile.
Once again he looks around.  The forest seems to go for quite
some distance, and Largo can hear the baying of wolves from the
darkness.  He looks upward, but the canopy of trees is too thick
to see through.  Strange, according to his chronometer it should
be daylight all over the Asian continent.  Largo decides, as
embarrassing as this may be, that he needs to climb one of the
trees and map his surroundings.  He searches out a particularly
tall tree and scales the side, not an easy task considering he's
still missing an arm and his legs are less than thirty-percent
regenerated.  Still, he makes it to the top and sticks his head
out from the foliage.  A solid canopy of trees as far as the eye
can see, lit by a clear night sky and a brilliant moon.  Well, if
all else fails, there's always star-charting... Funny, none of
the stars configure to familiar patterns.  Perhaps his star-chart
records were damaged; no, they're all still there.  Where IS this
place?
Largo jumps down from the tree and drops forty feet back to the
ground.  The landing is stable.  Check diagnostic systems... No
damage at all to leg frames or supports.  Good, good, at least he
can perform standard buma leaping.  So, he's totally lost.  How
annoying.  One last option : Largo checks his internal Ring Laser
Gyro.

[PROCESSING.  NOW FACING 016 DEGREES NORTH EAST EAST.  LOW
BAROMETRIC PRESSURE / CURRENT AIR PRESSURE INDICATE ELEVATION AT
750 FEET (ESTIMATED) ABOVE SEA LEVEL]

At least there's a north and south here.  Well, there's no point
in procrastinating, so he might as well start off searching for a
settlement of some sort.  Judging from the cold temperature he
decides to head directly south, since most humans tend to prefer
more temperate zones.  Largo begins his journey.
After heading due south for a couple of miles he comes across a
small pond.  It is motionless enough to provide an adequate
reflection.  Largo looks into the pool and sees what he expected
: something that would never pass for human or buma at all in
it's present state.  His head has regenerated its shape, but it
is still bald, blue and many of the nano-cortical fibers are
dangling loosely from parts of the skull.  His left arm has not
begun to regenerate yet, and his naked skin is still covered in
burns.  His legs are bare and scrawny, most of the muscle fibers
still under repair.  The only way he could pass for human would
be a horribly burnt one; not a likely chance anyone would accept
such a proposition, especially since such burns would kill a
human.  Unfortunately, since he declared major systems repairs
secondary to motor functions and sensory equipment it will take a
while longer before he can reinfiltrate normal society, at least
two more days.  And that would only be if camouflage was put at
the top of repair systems priorities.  Largo weighs his options.
Well, since human settlements will have computer hookups, and
since combat systems will not be at maximum efficiency for at
least another two weeks with current repair allocations, it looks
like his best bet will be to find a temporary hideout for a short
while, rest until adequately disguised, and then pose as a sick
human in need of medical attention.  From a hospital he can
reinitialize contact with any satellites in orbit, call in some
combat bumas for protection, and play his cards from there.  Not
a bad plan.  Largo gets up and continues south.
Ten miles later he sees something through the brush...  A
village.  Funny, there's no electrical activity resonating from
the small homes.  Actually, judging from their conditions it's
not all that surprising.  The cottages are small and whitewashed,
roofed with bundles of twig and bark.  Floral patterns adorn the
cottage walls.  A few lights can be seen through the small glass
windows, flickering a quiet shade of red-orange from inside.
Candles, perhaps?  What sort of primitive place IS this?  There
is the stench of burning dung in the air, probably originating
from the smoke billowing out of the make-shift chimneys.  Largo
makes his way to one of the homes and looks in the window.  It is
dark within this one.  An infrared scan indicates a couple
sleeping in bed.  A UV scan shows that there is nowhere to hide
within, for the cottage is much to small.  Largo searches among
the other homes in the same fashion.  Each home reveals the same.
Then he comes across an adequate facility : a circular, roofed
stable built from twigs and timber.  Largo tries to open the
door... Locked.  Breaking the bolt would probably wake the
inhabitants of a nearby cottage.  Not a problem.  Largo looks at
the lock sealing the bolt.  A minor key lock.  What does the
owner hope to keep out with THIS?  Largo places the lock squarely
in his hand and crushes it silently, then opens the bolt and goes
inside.  As he closes the door behind him he feels that he is not
alone.  Largo looks the stable over : the inhabitants, a herd of
goats and some wild pig, are asleep in various pens, although
some are beginning to stir.  Having to act quickly before they
begin to make noise, he searches out a well hidden spot, a hay
loft in the stable's second story.  In one leap he is on the
second floor and looks for a good place to rest.  Largo buries
himself under a particularly large pile of hay and begins
reallocation of systems repairs.

[DIAGNOSTIC SYSTEMS ON-LINE.  REALLOCATION OF MAIN REPAIRS TO
HUMAN MASK SYSTEMS.  ESTIMATED TIME FOR REPAIRS : THIRTY-EIGHT
HOURS SIXTEEN MINUTES.]

Sounds good.  Largo deactivates all main systems except proximity
alert and goes to sleep.

Old Voice (angrily) : Dammit!

Largo immediately stirs.  Sensory systems are put back on line.
Through the hay he can see the light of dawn shine in through the
entrance he had used.  An old man with a hoe is pacing nervously,
looking back and forth at what's left of his lock.  A young girl
walks up to him.

Girl : What is it, father?
Old man : Look!  (points at the lock) Some thief tried to break
into my stables last night!!
Girl (scrutinizes the lock) : Goblins, maybe?
Old man : No goblin is THAT strong.  The lock has been completely
crushed.  It may have been an ogre or something equally as
strong.
Girl (worried) : Oh dear.  How much did it take?
Old man : That's what surprises me...  Nothing's missing!  I
counted all the animal heads twice, heck, I even counted all my
tools.  Everything's right where it should be.
Girl : Well, nothing is missing, so I'm afraid your little
mystery is just going to have to stay that way (begins to head
inside the stables).
Old man (blocking her path) : Hold it!  You aren't going in until
we contact the soothsayer.  I don't want to take the chance that
we may have accidentally offended some foul spirits!
Girl (walking around) : Oh father, please!  Why must you always
be so nervous?  You've already looked the place over, there's
nothing here.  And I must feed the animals.
Old man : I'm old, Emile, I'm not worried about myself.  But
you're my daughter!  I promised your mother, may she rest in
peace, that I would protect you from the evils in this world.
And Lord knows how many evils there ARE in this world!
Emile (kisses the old man gently on the cheek) : I know, father.
Thank you.  But I KNOW you aren't going to start locking me in my
room.  Now (turns back to the stable), I have work to do.

The old man smiles at her and strokes her hair as he leaves.
Largo has remained completely still throughout the series of
events.  How long has he been asleep?  Wonderful, only four
hours, no way near enough.  Well, perhaps he can make use of the
loft and learn something about his hosts in the meantime.  He
moves a little of the hay away so as to get a better view of the
lower level and the girl.  What he sees is incredible : she is
probably the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on.  She
appears to be around twenty years old.  Her long brown hair flows
gracefully behind her like a cloak.  Her eyes are a piercing
green and shine like stars.  Her body is absolutely perfect, the
crude peasant-dress she's wearing not doing justice to her fine
form.  She smiles at the animals as she fills their troughs.
Largo's head spins at the beauty of this smile, for it only
heightens the girl's natural glow.  For a second he longs for the
days when he was capable of physically loving a woman like this,
before he abandoned the wounded body of Brian J. Mason and
transferred his mind into the A.I. of Largo...  NO!  Those days
are over!  And they'll remain gone forever, he has vowed that.
He has transcended the boundaries of human mortality, and has
risen to the state of godhood, a god among living machines, the
God of all bumas!  Enough frivolous thought of human women...

The day passes by.  Largo's repairs continue, although at a
slightly slower rate so that his sensory equipment may operate.
The girl enters the stables a few times, tending the animals and
helping her father with herding.  Her father enters at various
times with other people, apparently selling goats and other
livestock to them.  He's a gruff old man in his sixties, with
long gray sideburns and a balding head which he keeps hidden
under an old brown hat.  The father and daughter don't talk much
while in the stables, and Largo's hearing isn't acute enough yet
to hear beyond the stable's boundaries, so he derives very little
information from his surveillance point.  All he can tell to this
point is that he is in a very poor little village of
superstitious farmers.  Eventually the sun goes down and the
stables are sealed shut.  Largo hears the click of a replacement
lock on the door's bolt.  Check diagnostic systems.

[TIME REMAINING UNTIL HUMAN MASK SYSTEMS COMPLETED : NINETEEN
HOURS FOUR MINUTES]

Halfway there... Largo decides to get down and look about his
temporary residence.  The animals are still awake, although they
don't seem to mind his presence much.  Funny, most animals he had
encountered in the past tended to fear bumas of all kinds.  Life
here must be strange indeed to tame these animals to his
presence.  Largo looks about and finds a mirror located above a
small wash basin.  The stables are completely dark, so he
activates night-vision.  The blackness is replaced by shades of
bright green and black shadows.  Largo looks himself over... His
face is nearly fully regenerated, and his head of hair is
completely replaced.  His left arm is only completed up to the
elbow, and most of the skin on his body is still in need of
repair.  Only one of his legs is fully reformed.

Largo (thinking) : Not much longer.

Largo returns to the loft and buries himself under the hay.  He
resets his proximity detectors and heads back to sleep, giving
his body more time to heal... And he awakens to the sound of a
basket dropping next to him.  Largo looks up to see Emile
standing over him, her hands on her mouth in complete surprise.
Laying next to her is a basket with corn husks in it, probably t
o feed the pigs.  Largo notices that the hay around him has been
disturbed.  Emile probably climbed into the loft to collect some
and found him under it.  Why hadn't his proximity detectors
noticed her?  That is not a concern just yet, for he must think
quickly.  How far along has his healing process progressed?

[HUMAN MASK SYSTEMS AT NINETY-ONE PERCENT COMPLETION.  ESTIMATED
TIME TO FULLY FUNCTIONAL SYSTEM : ONE HOUR FIFTY-TWO MINUTES]

Why didn't the proximity alert wake him up?

[SYSTEMS ALLOCATION DIVERTED TO COMPENSATE FOR IRREGULAR POWER
FLOW AT TWELVE THIRTY-SIX HOURS.  PROXIMITY ALERT REINITIALIZED]

Largo quickly looks at himself.  His arm has fully regenerated,
and so has most of his skin.  The only remaining part to heal is
the portion on his left leg below the knee, which is nothing but
framework and a limited supply of muscle fibers with some
uncompleted skin tightly clinging to it.  Perhaps he could play
this out for the better.

Emile : Who-who are...?
Largo (feigning pain) : Ugh... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to
startle you, but I needed a place to stay.  You see I... I was
attacked and robbed.  And being crippled as I am (points to
uncompleted leg) I was unable to defend myself.  Once again I
apologize, I'll leave right away... (tries to get up, but
purposely falls back down) Oh, my leg!
Emile (rushes over to him) : Oh my, you poor man!  Don't worry.
I'll be right back.  You just stay there and try not to move
(runs down the loft stairs and out the stable doors).

Largo smirks to himself.  How easily a person can play upon these
human hearts.  If she only knew that his "injured" leg was strong
enough to kick over a car.  This could work very well indeed.
Cease repair work on human disguise, return to tending major
systems.

[ACKNOWLEDGED.  PRIMARY SYSTEM : CPU.  CURRENT STATUS :
SIXTY-THREE PERCENT COMPLETED.  ESTIMATED TIME OF COMPLETION :
ONE-HUNDRED, FOURTEEN HOURS THREE MINUTES]

He'll play cripple for a little while, gaining their trust and
learning what he can until he can leave fully functional.  Emile
comes running back with Gustav.  The old man is huffing and
puffing, trying to keep up with her.  Eventually they reach the
hay loft and locate Largo.  For the sake of maintaining his
innocent appearance he covers himself up with some hay and
smiles.

Gustav : By the tribunal, you're right!  Are you okay, son?
(tries to help Largo to his feet, only to fall back down) Oof!
Largo (compensating for his extra weight) : Sorry, I weigh more
than I look (this time Emile helps her father hoist up Largo)
Gustav : Never mind me, boy, you look like you've been through a
mess!

Emile and Gustav help Largo limp to their cottage.  Gustav puts
Largo on the bed and tells Emile to fetch some food and water,
which Largo "graciously" accepts.

Gustav (digging through a small closet and pulling out some
clothes) : Here you go.  It's not much, but I don't have anything
in your size.
Largo (slides on the worn farming pants and tunic) : Thank you, I
really appreciate the help.
Emile (bringing a small pitcher of water and a heel of bread) :
What happened to you?
Largo (taking the food) : I was attacked by bandits in the
forest.  They stole everything I had and beat me before they
left.  I made it to your stables yesterday while they were open.
Gustav : Why didn't you just come to us for assistance?
Largo : I didn't know how you would treat strangers.
Gustav : Well, normally we like to be wary of them, but you don't
look like you're much of a threat. (looks at Largo's chest) It
looks like they burned you something good, too.  Were they human
bandits?
Largo : Uh, yes...
Gustav : Hm, strange.  I'll talk to the local constable about
looking into it.  In the meantime, Emile here can take care of
you until you're on your feet again (Emile smiles at Largo).
Largo (smiling back) : Thank you very much, kind sir.

Gustav leaves the cottage.  Were they HUMAN bandits?  What an odd
question.  Largo supposes they might have frequent buma crime out
here, surprising unless this village holds more science than can
be noticed at first glance.  Emile puts a wet towel on Largo's
forehead.

Emile : Now, you get some rest.  It will be sundown soon and we
have to lock up before then.
Largo : What occurs at sundown?

Now it is Emile's turn to be caught off guard by the questioning.
She looks at Largo strangely, then feels his head for fever.

Emile : No, you're not running a temperature.  Do you honestly
not know why we lock up?
Largo : I'm afraid I don't come from around here.
Emile : You must come from one of the other domains.  That would
explain your strange accent and hair color.  Well, Mister...
Largo : Please, call me Largo.
Emile : Very well, Largo.  Well, around here it is dangerous to
be out after sunset, for who knows what evil lurks in the
darkness.  Fortunately, such dangers rarely enter a locked home,
but still we like to be sure...  We will have dinner soon, and
I'm sure you want to replenish your strength.
Largo : Most definitely (his first honest response).
Emile : Good.  Perhaps at the dinner table you can tell us some
about yourself and where you come from.
Largo : It would be a pleasure, Emile.

Eventually, Gustav returns.  He brings news that the constable
will want Largo to provide descriptions of the bandits, but Largo
says that it was too dark for him too see his attackers.  Gustav
also says he wants the local soothsayer to check Largo for
evidence of any outside evil, in case he was unknowingly carrying
an evil spirit or two from the forest.  At dinner Largo inquires
about as much as he can regarding the land and where he is.
Gustav and Emile tell him that he is in the domain of Tepest, in
the village of Kellee, neither of which Largo has ever heard of.
When he inquires about any computer-access terminals or buma
distribution the two look at him utterly confused.  Largo quickly
dismisses these questions as common items of interest his people
discuss.  Gutsav asks Largo about where he's from, so Largo
"tells the truth", saying he's from an island known as Nippon
where the people are primarily merchants and fishermen.  Largo
tells the two that he is a hired laborer, and says that on a
caravan to a neighboring land he was separated from his group and
stranded in the forest.  Apparently this evokes more sympathy
from Emile and Gustav, exactly what he wants.  Gustav tells Largo
a little about their local village and its sister city Viktal,
information which proves utterly uninteresting to him.  It is
when Gustav starts describing the local "wildlife" that Largo
takes an amused interest.  It seems that Gustav, and sadly Emile
as well, believe in monsters, such as the ones heard about in the
old Gothic horror tales.  The land appears to have everything :
vampires, werewolves, witches, all sorts of walking dead.  Largo
pretends to take everything seriously, although he has decided
that he is not in any strange village but rather some sort of
asylum.  Apparently everyone else in this place strongly believes
in the same things.  There is all sorts of talk regarding
gypsies, ghosts, and the like.  The only time Largo takes an
intense interest in what Gustav has to say is when he brings up
the Mists.  The Mists that swallow up whole lands and throws them
into this accursed realm of evil, as Gustav calls it.  He claims
that his land and people were pulled from their home when he was
twelve years of age.  Largo speculates that maybe not EVERYTHING
the old man has to say is the product of madness, although
there's no way any more of it could be true.  Eventually the
group finishes supper and heads on to bed.  Gustav grants Largo
the use of his bed while he sleeps on the floor, Emile sleeping
in her own bed.  Largo thanks them for the lovely meal and
prepares to shut down for the evening, allowing just enough power
goes to repair his human appearance to simulate normal healing
speed.

Largo (thinking) : Apparently, I'll have to study this strange
land much more in the following days.

With that, Largo deactivates all systems and lays down to rest
and heal...

                           Part  Two
The coming few days prove utterly useless for Largo.  His
infiltration into the town of Kellee has only revealed a barrel
full of unimportant information : he is among three-thousand
superstitious farmers, dolts who believe so strongly in the
supernatural it is enough to make even a buma sick.  Each night
they lock up their doors, not for fear of thieves but rather so
that "those little beasties" will stay out.  The people barely
scrape a living out of farming and raising livestock, living off
of ridiculously limited resources in a society completely devoid
of technology.  It can't be an asylum, perhaps a purist colony of
some sort or some offshoot of the Amish, although WHERE is still
a major issue.  Largo has successfully won the trust of many
people in this town, playing upon their sympathies and making
good use of his natural charisma.  The town soothsayer has judged
him "clean" of evil influence, proving how incompetent he truly
is.  Gustav has even been able to provide Largo a set of crutches
to help him with his "disability".  To further his show of good
will Largo has aided the townspeople in herding and continually
offers his help.

[CPU IS NINETY-THREE PERCENT COMPLETED.  ESTIMATED TIME TO
COMPLETION : TWENTY-SIX HOURS EIGHT MINUTES.  MAIN UNIT IS AT
COMBAT READINESS LEVEL SEVEN]

One more day, then he can leave this stupid little pigsty and
search for better facilities.  His combat prowess is still in
dire need of improvement, but that can wait.  One thing has
provided him a source of interest, though.  Over the past few
days Emile has been fawning over him.  It started out with her
merely tending him like a good nurse, but after a while she began
to look at him in that way that indicates her interests were more
than duty.  Now she dotes over him like a young schoolgirl with a
crush, eagerly offering to tend to whatever needs he might have.
Even her father has noticed her infatuation, and while he seems
to be cautious he doesn't seem to mind too much, either.  Are
these humans truly that stupid?  They have only known him for
less than a week, yet they are willing to take him in, trust him
implicitly... What fools these mortals be.

Largo : I will be leaving tomorrow.

Gustav and Emile stop eating dinner and look at Largo in
surprise.  Emile is obviously more taken aback by this than
Gustav.

Emile : What?
Gustav : Are you sure?  I don't believe there are any caravans
leaving for the remainder of the week.
Largo : I will not be leaving by caravan.  I will go by foot.
Emile : But... Your leg...
Largo : It will not be a problem.  I can make do with what I
have.
Gustav : It isn't a good idea to go without the protection of the
group, my boy.  As I have told you many times, there are
incredible dangers in these woods.  And the air seems to be ripe
for an upcoming storm.
Emile : Yes!  It is much too dangerous to leave!
Largo : I must go.  I have... business to attend to.
Gustav : Won't you reconsider, Largo?  This town isn't so bad,
and I'm sure that, perhaps if you stay a little longer you'll
grow to enjoy our lifesty--
Largo : My mind is made up.  I cannot stay here any longer.
Gustav : Well, if you ARE certain, I suppose I can't force you
stay here...  But I really wish...
Emile (growing desperate) : Please don't go.  Our town might be
small compared to your Nippon, but it's really a wonderful place
to live.  The monsters don't frequent us too often, and in the
summer the weather is beautiful, and the people are friendly,
and...
Largo (taking Emile's hand and flashing her his most charming
smile) : My dear Emile, I am sorry to upset you and your father,
but I can't stay here any more.  I have people who need me.
Without me, they would be lost.
Gustav (not wanting to disturb the two) : Well... I had better go
lock up the animals.  Can't let them catch cold or anything
(leaves the cottage).
Emile : So you are really leaving...  When?
Largo : Tomorrow at dusk.  I travel better by night.
Emile : Then take me with you.  I know the terrain, and you need
someone around in case your leg gives out.

Just what he needs, extra baggage.  Largo is finding it all very
amusing : the girl falling in love with him when she doesn't even
have a clue as to what he truly is, the father leaving in a
futile attempt to allow his daughter to try and coerce him into
staying.  It is fortunate for these people that they do not live
in MegaTokyo, for they would be eaten alive by those who made
their living from the gullible.  Should he play the game?  Toying
with humans does make for fun sport...  No, he doesn't have time
for this right now.  He has an empire to build, a throne to
reclaim, people to destroy.  Maybe some other time, perhaps, but
not today.

Largo : I am sorry, Emile.  I cannot do that.  You would not be
safe.
Emile (turning from him) : When you said you had people who need
you... Largo, do you have a wife?
Largo (successfully represses laughing at such a silly question)
: A wife?  No, I am quite single.
Emile (turning back to him and slamming her hands on the table) :
Then why can't you take me along?!  I've never been outside of
Tepest, father is too protective.  I've always wanted to visit
other lands, and I'm sure that I would be a good wife for you in
Nippon.  Please, father might not try to keep me locked up here
if you talked him into letting me marry you.
Largo : Marry me?  Emile, are you so in love with me?  You've
only known me for a short time.
Emile : I know that we were meant to be together!  I want to be
with you forever!
Largo (playing the role of a noble man with perfection, he
strokes her hair gently) : Perhaps I will come back for you some
day, but now is not the time.  Will you wait...?
Emile (sadly) : I-I suppose...
Largo : Thank you.
Gustav (walking in) : So, what have you decided?
Largo : I will leave tomorrow before the sun sets.
Gustav (disappointed) : Oh... Well, I wish the best of luck to
you then.  Perhaps one day you can grace our little village with
your presence again.
Largo : Perhaps...

For the remainder of the night the cottage remains quiet.  In the
morning there is little talk from Gustav or Emile, although a few
of the villagers that have met Largo wish him well on his journey
south.  By the end of the day Largo has been provided foodstuffs
and change of clothes for his trip by Gustav.

[CPU IS NOW AT 100 PERCENT OPERATIONAL STATUS.  MOTOR SYSTEMS AT
EIGHTY-NINE PERCENT STATUS.  MAIN UNIT IS AT COMBAT READINESS
LEVEL SEVEN.  HUMAN MASK SYSTEMS AT NINETY FOUR PERCENT
COMPLETION]

It is time to go.  Actually, he might actually want to make sure
nobody can relay his position in case any law enforcement is
searching for him.  No, eliminating three-thousand people will
make too big a noise, even if it is only a town of farmers.  The
best he can hope for is that these people will be enamored of him
enough to conceal his whereabouts from the police.  Then he must
keep up the charade until he leaves.

Largo : Thank you, Gustav.  Were it not for you and your lovely
daughter I do not know what might have become of me.
Gustav (shakes Largo's hand) : It has been my pleasure, son.  If
you want help getting back to Nippon there's the city of Kantora
about fifty miles south-east of here.  Someone there should know
how to get there.  If you take Timori Road to Liara and take a
caravan connecting through Egertus you should be able to make it
to Kantora in five days.  It's a long haul, but it's safer than
taking the straight route without the protection of the group...
You know, it's still not too late to change your mind.
Largo (laughs) : I'm afraid not.
Gustav : Very well.
Emile : I will be waiting for you.
Largo (takes her hand) : Take care, Emile.

Emile jumps up and hugs him tightly.  After a little while she
lets go and stands behind her father, her head drooped in sorrow.
Largo waves good-bye and turns towards the forest.  The sun is
beginning to set over the horizon, but the forest is already
completely shrouded in darkness.  Emile and Gustav look as Largo
heads into the dark forests and is engulfed by the shadows of the
trees.

Gustav (holding his daughter next to him) : There goes a good
man...

Once Largo has traveled a safe distance from the village he
tosses aside his pack of supplies and crutches.  Reinitialize
human mask systems repair, start work on all combat systems.
Five days on a caravan?  Not bloody likely.  He'll take the
direct route cross-country; he's not worried about bandits and
whatever "horrors" may be lurking out there.  He should have
spent more time at the village, allocated more time to improve
his combat readiness, but he has had enough of the boondocks.  He
needs to get out, make sure none of his connections are severed,
catch his enemies off guard if they think he's dead.  Largo, now
unencumbered, continues his journey southeast to Kantora.

He has been walking for nearly four straight hours now.  Strange,
this forest seems like any other he has been in or seen, but
something is not right here.  This forest seems... out of place.
The trees seem to bend inward, as though they are watching over
him, inspecting his every move.  The woods seem unusually quiet
as well.  One would expect to hear something, the rustling of
leaves, the hoot of an owl, the chirping of crickets.  But
there's nothing, only the sound of his feet as they step on the
damp mulch that makes up the forest floor.  And the darkness.
It's so powerful even his night-vision can barely suffice.  The
canopy of tree limbs and leaves blocks out even the slightest
beam of moonlight from outside.  SNAP!  What was that?  Largo
turns around quickly and looks about.  Nothing.  Change spectrum
of vision to infrared.  Still nothing.  Ultra violet?  What made
that noise?  Largo shakes his head, trying to clear it.

Largo (thinking) : Enough.  I'm becoming paranoid.

Largo continues moving.  Wait.  Is that moonlight?  Largo looks
ahead and sees a dim light from a hundred feet down the forest
path.  As he gets closer the light gets brighter, and he sees an
opening in the side of the grove, the end of the forest.  Largo
steps out of the forest and into the moonlight.  The forest is
behind him, but THIS is extremely bizarre.  The land has changed
terrain almost instantly.  Before him lie wide-open grasslands
going on for many miles, dotted with occasional outcroppings of
woods far in the distance.  But such a change... even the
temperature has altered instantly.  Largo looks behind him.  The
forest is still there.  He steps back in, and once again the
temperature is the same chill as had been prevalent since his
voyage from Kellee.  Even the ever-present silence is there, a
stark contrast from the hushed rustling of grasses in the wind of
the plains outside.  This definitely could stand more study, but
now is not the time.  Largo returns to the grasslands and
continues moving.

[HUMAN MASK SYSTEMS AT ONE-HUNDRED PERCENT OPERATIONAL STATUS.
MAIN UNIT IS AT COMBAT READINESS LEVEL SIX.  MOTOR SYSTEMS AT
NINETY-FOUR PERCENT COMPLETION.  POWER CELLS AT SEVENTY-FIVE
PERCENT COMPLETION]

The sun begins to break over the horizon as Largo walks up to the
main city gates of Kantora.  His trek during the evening proved
rather uneventful : the primary inhabitants of the plains were
the large herds of free-roaming black stallions roaming wild
across the grasslands, the occasional snake, and a large numaber
of plains cats, which further surprised him since such animals
were typically found in Africa or southern Asia.  A pride of
black-furred felines had followed him for a couple of hours,
probably looking for an easy kill, but after Largo crushed the
skulls of their leader and a number of his fellow attackers the
cats were wise enough to avoid him from there on. Largo passes
through the gates.  The city is bustling with activity... well,
relatively, regarding the small size of it;  Largo estimates it
couldn't hold any more than fifteen or sixteen-thousand people.
What he sees is truly a portrait of filth : people living in the
streets, sleeping in the mud of the ground.  The stench of horse
manure is hanging strongly in the air, garbage is lying all over
the torn street.  The buildings are old and decaying, and there
seems to be an inordinate number of gambling houses and taverns
about.  Truly squalid living conditions, indeed.  Actually, the
sight isn't at all shocking to him.  He never did care about the
welfare of those who lacked his high status, even when he was
Brian J. Mason; they were just fuel for whatever schemes he may
have had at the time.  If these humans die of poverty or
starvation it's just thinning the herd.  What surprises him is
just HOW completely impoverished these people are.  There is
absolutely no sign of technology anywhere.  He can't sense any
computer activity within the city's boundaries...  For that
matter, he can't detect any sort of electrical activity at all.
Nothing, just like in the days of medieval Europe.  Largo wants
some answers, but getting them will be a serious problem.  What
better place to start but in a large, crowded area?  Largo
wanders about the bustling city streets until he comes across a
particularly busy-looking establishment, a bar called The Razor's
Edge.  Judging from the number of people inside it must be quite
a popular place.  The smoky tavern is packed wall-to-wall with
people.  Judging from their clothes and the fact that they are
actually enjoying themselves it is apparent that this must be the
local "middle class".  The stench of manure has been replaced by
the intense smell of booze, tobacco, and sweat.  People are
dancing on the tables, drunkards are trying to bargain with
prostitutes, and a number of men are playing cards at their
respective tables.  Largo walks through the crowds and makes his
way to the front of the bar.  A muscular, nasty-looking bartender
comes up to him.

Bartender : What can I git ya'?
Largo : I'm new to this city, and require information.
Bartender : Do tell.  Care to be a lil' more specific?
Largo : I desire to find the nearest available terminal link-up
to any sort of computer network.
Bartender : Eh?  What?
Largo : A computer link-up, you fool.
Bartender : Com-compyutar?  What in the Abyss are ya' yammerin'
about?
Largo (in a patronizing tone) : Com - pu - ter.  Do you know what
a computer is, you idiot?  Has chips, wires, circuits, sometimes
a keyboard, sometimes a monitor, uses electricity?  Hmmm?
Bartender : I'm beginning to dislike yer tone wit' me, boy.
You've got about five seconds to make some sense before I kick
yer teeth in.
Largo : Really?  Then I'll try something your simian brain may
have some information on...  I need transportation to Nippon.
Bartender : I'm warnin' ya', bug.
Largo (exasperated) : Japan (bartender still looks lost).  Asia?
(nothing)  Good grief, the planet EARTH?!
Bartender (grabs Largo by the shirt) : That's it, I don't have
time for loonies like you!

Largo looks at the bartender with an amused look on his face,
something the bartender didn't quite expect.  The bartender is
obviously trying to make Largo show a little fear before he gets
thrown out on the street, but it's obvious Largo doesn't consider
this man any sort of a threat.  The bartender decides to get the
job over with and tries to lift Largo off his seat, but Largo
doesn't budge; he just sits there with his arms and legs crossed
leisurely.  The bartender looks extremely angry now and raises
his fist as though he's ready to deliver a punch to Largo's face,
but a small man standing wandering nearby puts up a hand.  The
bartender notices and stops immediately.

Small man : Go back to waiting tables, Boris.  I'll handle this
fellow.
Bartender : But, Rabehl...
Rabehl : I said get LOST.
Bartender (lets go of Largo) : Right... (heads off)
Rabehl : You'll have to forgive Boris, my friend he ain't too
bright.  I heard that you were asking for some... information?  A
way to get to Nippon, was it?
Largo : Yes.
Rabehl : It just so happens I have a good source of connections
in this town.  I can get you what you want... but not in here.
Largo : Why not?
Rabehl : My friends get uneasy around crowds.  It ain't safe, you
know.
Largo : Very well.  Take me to your... friends.

Rabehl leads Largo out of the bar and out to the street, then
down a couple of blocks and to an alleyway and gestures for Largo
to enter first.  It's obvious that Rabehl intends to betray him
as soon as possible, but judging from the stance of authority he
presented against the bartender it's possible he has some
knowledge or influence in this area.  Perhaps Largo can make use
of the greasy little man.  He steps into the alleyway, and his
suspicions about deception are confirmed.  The alley is about
twenty-feet long, adequately dark and insulated, and dead-ends at
the end.  A couple of tough-looking men are standing at the back
end of the alley smoking.  There is a bum sitting next to a pile
of garbage, but he's completely sloshed.  The men look up as
Largo enters, then smile fiendishly as they see Rabehl follow
behind.  Rabehl smiles back.

Largo : I see you do not intend to give me the aid I seek.
Rabehl : You ARE a sharp one, aren't you, kid?  Please, say hello
to my business associates.  This one's Beggs (points to a tall,
muscular man with an eye-patch, who nods back) and this skinny
fella is Price (points to a very thin man with a crewcut, who
bows mockingly in a flamboyant fashion.  The two walk up to Largo
and block his way out of the alley).
Beggs : Doesn't look like the best choice of the day, Rabehl.
He's dressed like a farmer.
Price : Cute hair, though.  Aren't you a little young for gray,
kiddo?
Rabehl : Shut up, Price.  Now, you're obviously a smart lad, so
I'll do you a favor.  You give us our "alleyway toll", and I'll
even try to convince ole' Beggs here not to remove your gizzard.
A good deal, hm?
Largo : That will be a problem considering I have no money.
Price : Ooh, that IS a problem.  How can we do business without
some form of compensation? (draws a dagger out of his shirt.
Rabehl follows suit while Beggs puts on some steel knuckles)
Largo : I will grant you a service in exchange for information
(the men begin to laugh at this offer).
Beggs : Hear that, guys?  Okay, my friend...
Largo : I am Largo.
Beggs : Okay... LARGO.  What can you do for us that will allow
you to keep all your fingers?
Largo : I will let you live (the thugs are completely surprised
by this response).
Price : WHAT?
Rabehl : That's not very funny, boy.
Beggs : Enough of this!  I'm tired of talking to this nut-case.

Rabehl and Price agree and the group moves in on Largo.  Largo
simply flashes an evil smile in response.  The scene changes to
the outside of the alley.  A few passers-by look at the back
street as though they hear something, but they shake their heads
and continue on their ways. The view returns to inside the alley.
The bum is no longer drunk, but is looking at Largo with wide and
terrified eyes.  The picture in the alleyway is not a pretty
one... Price is prone on the passageway floor, his face the utter
expression of fear.  There is a large gaping hole in his chest
where his heart used to be.  Beggs is in considerably worse shape
: what's left of his body is splattered flat across the alley
wall.  Largo is standing tall, holding Rabehl a foot off the
ground by the throat.  Rabehl is trembling in fear, his face
covered in blood and his pants slightly moist.  Largo's smile has
not changed.

Largo : So, are you willing to accept my terms in exchange for
information?
Rabehl (terrified) : Puh-please don't hurt me!
Largo : Answer my question and I will let you go.
Rabehl : Right, I'll answer anything you want!  ANYTHING!!
Largo : I desire a computer hook-up.  Where can I find one?
Rabehl : Huh?  I d-don't know what you're t-talking about...
Largo : Hmph.  How do I get to Nippon?
Rabehl : Never huh-heard of it!
Largo (his patience has been stretched to its limits) : That
seems to be common around here.  So, you completely lied to me in
the bar.  I suppose I have no reason to let you continue your
miserable existence...
Rabehl (desperate) : WAIT!  Wait, I know someone who might be
able to help you!!  There's a tribe of Vistani outside the city!!
Largo : Vistani?
Rabehl : Vistani, the gypsy tribe!!  They've set up camp outside
Kantora!!  They know a lot about the other domains!!  Ask for an
old crow called Deniza!  She can HELP you!!!
Largo : Hm, good.  Thank you, Rabehl, you have been of great
assistance to me (Rabehl begins to look relieved).  Unfortunately
(Rabehl's expression becomes even more fearful), much like you, I
had little intention of keeping my end of the bargain...

Largo crushes Rabehl's throat and drops him to the ground.  As
Largo leaves Rabehl is clutching around desperately for air but
is doing so without any success.  Largo steps out of the alleyway
as Rabehl stops his thrashing and goes limp.  Well, it's obvious
he isn't going to get any reliable aid inside the city, so the
buma king might as well take the dying word of a man and check
out the Vistani.  Largo exits the main gates and takes a glance
around.  Nothing... No sign of gypsies at all... Apparently even
Rabehl's dying breath was a total crock.  Wait, there in the
distance.  Largo looks a couple of miles northward across the
plains and sees a collection of wagons settled down next to a
river.  Largo focuses in on one of the people walking next to the
camp... His clothing is typical of old Slavic gypsies that used
to wander southern Europe.  So, Rabehl was good to his word after
all.  Largo walks to the caravan of Vistani and stops the first
man he sees.

Gypsy man : Yes, what can I do for you?
Largo : I am a traveler.  I have been told that your people can
provide me information regarding my home.
Gypsy man : Eh?  Pardon me, but...
Largo : I desire to find a woman by the name of Deniza.
Gypsy man : You wish to see Madame Deniza?  I am sorry, but she
sees no one at the moment.  Perhaps later...
Largo : You will take me to her now or I will destroy you.
Gypsy man : What?!  How dare you!!  I will not disturb the seer,
especially under the threats of a dog such as you!!
Largo : Then you will die.
Deniza : No he will not, Largo.

Largo and the gypsy man make a startled turn around and see an
old hunchbacked woman standing behind them.  She is apparently
quite old, for she is missing all her teeth, some of her hair,
and has more wrinkles than a raisin.  She is dressed in quite a
lot of red flamboyant robes, laced with runes and clicking from
various charms and jewelry on her person.  She gives Largo a
toothless grin.

Largo : How did you know my name, old woman?
Deniza : It is all right, Grushka.  You may leave us.
Gypsy man : Are you sure it is safe with this cur, Madame?  He
has the stench of evil about him...
Deniza : Please return to your duties, Grushka.
Gypsy man (reluctantly) : Yes, Madame (leaves).
Deniza : Follow me.

Madame Deniza turns and heads for a well-built wagon nearby.
Largo looks at her confusedly at first but eventually decides to
follow.  She walks up a small set of stairs and sits at a small
table at the back of the wagon.  Largo enters behind her and
closes the door, then notices how much smaller the wagon is on
the inside.  He slides along the middle and sits down in a chair
opposite of the old woman.  The wagon is full of books,
artifacts, and various items of the occult.  The light in the
wagon is a bright red hue coming from a stained glass window in
the roof.  The old lady scrutinizes over Largo with her beady
little eyes.

Deniza : So, you are new here, yes?
Largo : You know quite a bit for an old woman.  It appears that
Rabehl certainly sent me to the right place.
Deniza : You desire to find your way home, I believe.
Largo : Your sources of information are quite accurate.  Not to
mention well hidden.  I detected no listening devices in the area
(Largo looks about the room once more).  I detect no receivers
here, either.  How did you know?
Deniza : There are many things about this land that you will find
quite a mystery, Largo.  I saw your coming quite a while back,
but your existence is so alien to us I had no way of knowing how
accurate I was in my scrying.
Largo (raises an eyebrow) : Scrying...
Deniza : I have little or no understanding of what you seek, but
I do know this : whatever it is you DO seek, you will never find
it here.
Largo : I see... (stands) This is absurd, you are a crafty old
woman, I can sense that, but you are as crazy as everyone else in
this absurd land.  I will find my information elsewhere (turns to
leave).
Deniza : You have nowhere else to go at the moment, Mr. Mason.

Largo stops dead in his tracks and turns back towards Madame
Deniza, grabbing her by her blouse and pulling her out of her
chair up to his face.

Largo (angrily) : How do you know my old name, crone?!  Answer me
or I will tear off your head!!
Deniza (quite calm) : If you harm me you will only bring doom
upon yourself.  You need me, Largo, for you are an anomaly in
this world, and in the end your ignorance will only bring your
destruction.  Now (sternly), release me.

Largo looks ready to kill Deniza, but for some reason he feels
great power coming from her little frame.  Could she be a buma of
some sort?  A quick scan reveals biological parts only, no
cyberware.  That doesn't prove anything; Genom is capable of
producing wetware-only bumas, although last he heard it was still
in experimental stages.  One thing is for certain : she knows a
lot about him.  The only other people alive who know him for what
he truly is are Celia Stingray and Genom's CEO Quincy.  He has no
choice, she is the closest lead so far to solving this mystery.
Largo will just have to play by her rules... for now.  He sets
the old woman back in her chair, then slides back into his and
resumes his calm composure.

Largo : It appears the game is in your hands, Madame Deniza.
Very well, explain it to me.  Where am I?
Deniza : You are in a realm floating amongst the great expanses
of the ethereal universe.  This land is a home to all forms of
evil, be they alive or dead, and many innocents have been pulled
along against their wills.  This demiplane of dread is far
different from the home you know, Mr. Mason... (Largo scowls)
Forgive me.  LARGO...  There is no science here, not in the way
you know.  This is a land of magic and power, a land where the
very soil you walk on lives, responds to the needs and wishes of
one depending on the strength of his will and emotion.  But the
land itself is evil, and what ends it seeks are beyond the
perceptions of one such as I, of ANY mortal.
Largo : Are you mad, woman?!  MAGIC?!  THE LIVING DEAD?!  Such
things are mere products of fantasy, and any serious belief of
them ended centuries ago!
Deniza : On your world, perhaps.  But this is not your world.
This is a land which lies on the fringes of nightmares and
shadows.  For all of us.  Even for one such as you who does not
require sleep.
Largo : You know what I am, then.
Deniza : No, not exactly.  As the concept of magic is foreign to
you, so your technology is completely foreign to myself.  I only
know that you are not human, yet somewhere inside you lies the
tattered rags of what was once a human soul.  This is all I can
say.
Largo : If what you say is true then I must find a way back to my
own world...
Deniza : That is a difficult if not impossible task here, Largo.
The very nature of this land prevents any form of escape.  Many
have tried, but almost none have succeeded.  Even an event as
great as the Grand Conjunction did not succeed in releasing those
who caused it.
Largo : What is this Grand Conjunction?
Deniza : Seven years ago two powerful beings by the name of
Strahd von Zarovich and Azalin used great sorcery and deceit to
fold the fabric of this land upon itself.  For a while the land
fell apart, allowing those captive within to escape.  But an
error on the part of Azalin caused the prophecies and the
powerful spells to backfire and the land swallowed back up most
of its original inhabitants.
Largo : Is there any natural exit from this land?  Any other form
of escape?
Deniza : None, lest the land itself desire to release its
prisoner.
Largo : Then my course of action is obvious.
Deniza (knowing what Largo intends to do) : It is unwise to deal
with power as great as Strahd or Azalin, Largo.  They are both
brilliant, immensely powerful, and thoroughly evil.
Largo (looking at Deniza with the shrewdness of a fox) : I must
deal with that which I know best, Madame Deniza.  Is that not so?
Deniza : If it is your will then you may pursue it.  But I have
forewarned you... (Largo stands and turns to leave) Before you
leave, I can attempt to scry your future, if you so desire.
Largo (with his back to Madame Deniza he continues to walk out of
the wagon) : Old woman, you have given me more information than I
would have been able to receive otherwise.  It is that singular
reason that I will allow you to live, even with the knowledge you
have of my true nature.  (exits the wagon) But there are some
things that I will not foolishly fall pray to, and that includes
the superstitious philosophy of magic.
Deniza : Then you will become enlightened to the philosophy soon
enough...

As he steps off the small stairs leading into the wagon Largo
turns around to respond to Madame Deniza.  To his utter surprise
she is gone.  No, not only is she gone, but so is her wagon.
Largo looks all around him.  ALL the Vistani wagons are gone.
There are no grooves in the ground where the wagons once stood,
no eaten patches of grass where their horses were grazing.  He is
the only thing standing in the open turf next to the river.
Everyone, everything has just... VANISHED... as though they were
never there in the first place.  It is silent as the sun shines
down from the middle of the sky and the light breeze pushes about
the grasses.  Then the words of Madame Deniza quietly whisper
back to him again...

Deniza (a hoarse, cold whisper) : Then you will become
enlightened to the philosophy soon enough...

Emile wakes with the rising sun and gets dressed.  As she gathers
up her belongings there's a knocking on the door.

Emile : Yes?
Voice : Room service, my lady.
Emile : What? (opening the door) I didn't request anything.

A big man with shaggy black hair and a scar across his face kicks
the door back.  In surprise Emile falls back onto the floor.  The
man walks in, accompanied by five men of equal ferocity.  Each
one is eyeing her excessively, laughing to themselves as they
surround her.  The big man closes the door and bolts it, but not
before Emile catches a glimpse of the innkeeper walking away
jingling a few coins in hand.  Emile backs up, sliding herself
into a corner.

Big man : Wow, what a looker!  This one's gonna be worth more
than just the money, guys (the thugs smile in return).
Emile : Please, I haven't got much.  Leave me alone.
Big man : Heh, it ain't that easy, sweetheart (Emile pulls a
small dagger out of her boot and holds it out defensively).
Thug #1 : Oooh, looky boys.  The little lady's got a knifey...
Thug #2 : Careful, girl, you might cut yourself.

Emile stands up and holds the dagger out, trying to ward off the
group.  The big man apparently finds her more of an amusement
than a threat and walks up to her, paying no attention to her
blade.  Emile tries to warn him away, but the man still comes.
When he gets too close for comfort she tries to swing at him, but
he easily dodges and disarms her, then strikes her across the
face, sending her sprawling across the room onto the ground.
Emile tries to get up quickly, but the man is on her in flash,
pinning her to the ground.  She struggles but he is much to
strong for her.  The others close in.

Big man (smiling) : Now that wasn't very smart, pulling a knife
on us.  I'm afraid we're going to have to teach you some manners.
Emile : NO!  Get off me!!
Big man (taking off his shirt) : After we're done with you you'll
be begging me to stay on...
Emile : HELP!!  SOMEBODY HELP ME!!! (thrashes about, trying to
get loose)
Thug #3 : Ain't no one 'round here that can hear ya', sweetie.
Big man : Of course, bouncing around like that's only going to
ruin my concentration... (punches her across the face twice) So
stop moving!

Emile's head is beginning to spin.  She's still desperately
trying to get away, but there's no way she can break his hold of
her.  The world starts to go black around her.  Emile screams and
tries to remain conscious, but it's no use, everything has gone
dark before her eyes.  Before the world shuts down completely,
she hears the tearing of her dress, the laughter of the thugs as
they cheer on their friend, the hissing sneer of the big man as
he continues to undress himself, and the sudden silence of the
room as the sound of crunching wood comes from the door...

Emile opens her eyes.  It's hard to see anything, the world feels
so fuzzy...  What happened?  Last she remembers, she -- she...
Emile shakes her head quickly, trying to make out her
surroundings as fast as possible, but it only succeeds in making
her even dizzier.  Where is she?  She isn't on the ground, but is
instead being carried in someone's arms.  Whose?  She looks up at
the face.  She can't see anything but a large blur, although she
can tell that whoever he is he has a head of gray hair.

Emile (weakly) : L-Largo...?
Largo (quietly) : Hush.  It's alright now, Emile...  Foolish
child, following me from Kellee.  Why do I put up with someone
like you?

The world is slowly starting to come back.  Emile can see his
face clearly now.  Her prince has rescued her.  Emile feels
herself over.  Other than a number of bruises on her face and
body, as well as slightly torn dress she is no worse for wear.
But what happened to...?  Emile looks around at the room in
horror, then buries her face in Largo's shirt, trying not to look
at the mess of torn and mangled bodies around her.  Emile begins
to sob, while Largo pats her head trying to comfort her.  Still
holding her he steps over the mutilated remains of one of the
thugs and through the thin pool of blood coating the entire
floor.  He passes the shattered remains of a door and walks down
the hall.  Emile looks up for a second, only to see the innkeeper
silently crying and clutching his shoulder where his right arm
once was.  She buries her head back in his shirt and holds him
tightly, feeling the chill of the morning air as Largo steps out
into the street and closes the inn door behind him.

[POWER CELLS AT EIGHTY-TWO PERCENT COMPLETION.  MAIN UNIT IS AT
COMBAT READINESS LEVEL FIVE.  MOTOR SYSTEM NOW 100 PERCENT
COMPLETED]

What was this foolish girl doing here?  She must have followed
him from Tepest, still riding on her silly little infatuation
with him.  This crush has gone from amusingly cute to a major
annoyance now.  Why had he even bothered saving her?  He heard
her voice cry out as he was walking down the street, calling for
help a block down.  Judging from how soft it had been it was
apparent that no human would have been able to hear it if they
were not within ten feet of the source.  He could have just
continued on his way, but somehow he felt compelled to save her.
After all, she HAD gone to the trouble of taking care of him in
her village.  It wasn't necessary help, but it was voluntary
nonetheless.  Besides, she was the only person he knew in this
strange place that he could fully trust not to lie to him.  He
ran to the inn at full speed and burst into her room, finding her
unconscious under a big man who obviously had less than noble
intentions.  Of course he and his men threatened Largo, and of
course they tried to attack him when he threatened them back.
When they found that their blades broke upon impact with his body
they grew scared and tried to run, but they had attempted to harm
him, and Largo never took such things less than seriously.  After
dispatching the group of hoodlums he took his business with the
innkeeper, who admitted to selling her out for a few measly
coins.  Largo made sure he would never try something like that
again.  Now he has a girl to carry about.  This will probably
reduce his traveling speed somewhat... not that it really
matters.  If what the gypsy woman said was true he's going to
have quite a bit of time on his hands, trapped in this "demiplane
of dread" as she called it.  Might as well make the best of it.
Largo carries Emile out of the city and sets her down on the
grasses outside.

Largo : Are you alright, Emile?
Emile (looks up at him) : Yes... Thank you, Largo.
Largo : Your father will be quite worried, you know.
Emile : I know.  I just wanted to be with you again.  I left him
a note, but I don't know if he saw it; I put it together rather
hastily.
Largo : So, what am I going to do with you now?
Emile : Please take me with you back to Nippon.
Largo (sees no reason to keep playing the "nice guy" routine) :
Why would I want to do that?
Emile (sits up quickly) : Largo, I know you're angry with me
right now for endangering my life, but...
Largo : Your presence here will only make my travels more
difficult.  I see no reason to continue traveling with you.
(looks her over) You are perfectly healthy, you can make it back
to Tepest on your own.
Emile : Please don't leave me, Largo.  I won't be any trouble to
you, I promise.  Let me come with you to your island home.
Largo (grows pensive) : It doesn't look like I'm going to able to
go back just yet.  Instead, I need to find somebody who can help
me. (thinks for a second) Emile, have you ever heard of somebody
by the name of Strahd von Zarovich?
Emile : von Zarovich?  I've heard of him... He's the lord of
Barovia, a nearby domain.  I think there's a village next to his
castle.
Largo : I must talk to him.  Take me to this Barovia.
Emile (brightens up) : I can go with you?
Largo (annoyed at her persistence) : Yes, you may.

Emile jumps up and hugs Largo tightly.  Largo does not return the
affection.  After allowing her to finish her foodstuffs Largo and
Emile start off west for Barovia at noon.  The two are moving at
a slower pace since Emile doesn't have Largo's endurance.  A few
hours of silently hiking across the steppes passes, and Emile
decides it's time to instigate conversation.

Emile : Um... (Largo, hands in pockets, slightly glares at her.
Emile doesn't seem to notice)
Largo (annoyed) : What is it?
Emile : I noticed that you don't really need those crutches.  But
your leg was obviously injured...
Largo (stops and pulls up his pant leg) : Satisfied?

Emile is quite surprised at the sight.  When she first saw Largo
his leg was seemingly wounded, missing some skin and almost
barren of muscle.  Yet before her is a leg that is in perfect
condition, not a scratch on it.  Emile bends down and scrutinizes
the leg, even pokes it... It is rock hard, almost like it is made
out of metal.  Largo has had enough of being analyzed and
continues walking before she has a chance to get up.  Emile
stands and quickly catches up with Largo.

Emile : Did you find a cleric of some sort in Kantora?  Or some
kind of healer?
Largo (without looking at her) : No, I'm just good at getting
over my injuries.
Emile : Oh...

It's painfully obvious that Largo isn't interested in talking, so
Emile quiets up and keeps walking beside him.  After another
couple of hours they have begun to walk even slower, Largo's idea
of a snail's pace.  Emile is panting and trying to keep up with
him, but she's not used to walking for so long without rest.
Unwilling to stop until he reaches the Barovian village, Largo
bends down and motions for Emile to climb on his back.  Emile
gets on and hugs his neck as Largo begins to walk.  Suddenly
Largo breaks out into a powerful sprint, jostling Emile somewhat.
She grits her teeth and clings to him tightly as the wind begins
to whip by her at incredible speeds.  Emile finds this both
frightening and stimulating as the ground rushes by; even when
pushing a horse to a gallop she has never moved so fast.  And
what's funny is Largo isn't even breathing hard.  Come to think
of it, it doesn't look like he's breathing at all...

Largo keeps up a steady pace of forty miles an hour.  It's a good
thing he started when he did, for the sun is beginning to set,
and if the people of Barovia are anything like the people of
Kellee the doors will be locked tight when it's dark.  Largo
notices the terrain has become considerably hillier all of a
sudden.  The temperature has become a strong chill as well,
immediately and without any warning.  Judging from past
experience he'll have to say that he has just crossed the Nova
Vaasan borders into Barovia.  After fifteen minutes Largo sees a
small house in the distance.  He slows down to a normal running
speed (about seven miles an hour) and approaches the small home.
It is not much, a ramshackle little enclosure whitewashed and
surrounded by a wooden fence.  A barn is situated behind it.  At
the entrance is an old man with a long white beard leading a few
horses into the structure.  Largo lets Emile down and two walk up
the old man, who looks somewhat startled to see them.

Old man (suspicious) : Who are you?
Largo : We are travelers, and are looking for a nearby village.
Old man : You are searching for the village of Barovia?  Do you
live there?
Emile : No, but we are looking for someone.  He's--
Largo (interrupting her) : I have business to attend to with one
of the villagers.  Can you direct us to this village?
Old man : I can send you there, but if you don't live there I
suggest you wait until morning.  No one is going to open their
doors to you until the sun clears the mountains to the east.
Largo (looks at the mountain ranges.  The sun is almost gone) :
The we will wait until then.  We require shelter for the evening.
Old man (growing desperate as the land grows dark) : Um, well,
I'm not sure...
Emile : Please?  We won't be any burden, we just need somewhere
to stay until dawn.
Old man (obviously charmed by Emile's beauty) : Er, I... Well, I
suppose you could stay in the barn...
Emile : Thank you (gives the old man a kiss on the cheek, which
he seems to greatly appreciate judging from his brightened
expression).
Old man : There's a pile of hay in the back.  I'll lock you in
with the rest of the farm animals and open the doors at sunup
(Largo and Emile enter the barn).  (before he closes the doors)
Are you two youngsters married, by any chance?

Emile smiles and blushes at this question.  Largo sees her and
rolls his eyes.  After a short while without response the old man
shrugs and seals the barn.  Largo and Emile hear a click of the
lock from outside.  Emile looks about in the darkness and sees
nothing.

Emile : Oh, wait, he didn't tell us where we could find a
lantern. (Suddenly the room lights up brightly.  Emile turns to
see Largo closing the panel on a small lamp hanging from the
rafters above) I didn't know you were carrying a tinderbox.
Largo : I'm not (there's a small stream of smoke coming from his
fingertip).

Emile stares at Largo for a second, a small expression of
apprehension crossing her face.  Largo ignores her and sets
himself down on the hay.  At least he'll have some extra time to
repair his combat systems now.  If this Strahd is as powerful as
Madame Deniza claimed he'll have to be ready to assert himself,
with strength if necessary.  Emile's air of fear has faded a
little.  She walks over to the hay and lays down next to Largo.

Emile : Are you a wizard of some sort?
Largo : I am NOTHING of the sort.
Emile : Then how... how have you been able to do all those
miraculous things?  Healing so quickly, lighting a lamp with your
finger, running faster than the wind itself, even... (shudders
slightly) even what you did to those men at the inn... Are you
some kind of creature of the night?
Largo (amused at her questioning) : Perhaps... Not in the fashion
you believe, though.
Emile : What then?
Largo (sitting up) : Do you truly desire to know?
Emile : I-I'm not sure...
Largo : Then it shall remain a mystery to you.  I require rest.
When our host opens the gates we shall leave to find Strahd.
Until then, please remain silent...(Largo lies back down.  Emile,
confused by all of this, decides to sleep on it.  Perhaps she can
learn more in the morning)

Hours pass silently.  Emile is sleeping comfortably on the soft
hay.  Largo is lying prone with his eyes closed, although he is
quite awake.  He no longer has to shut down to perform repairs,
but lack of movement does grant the repairs a little more speed.
Largo is thinking over his current situation, as he has been all
night.  He doesn't know what to expect when he meets this von
Zarovich, so he will have to inquire about him subtly from his
citizens during the day.  Since Madame Deniza claims the man
called Azalin botched up his own attempts to escape he will try
to find the more competent of the two, making Strahd his primary
choice.  A land that lives, floating in the "expanses of the
ethereal universe"?  The best he can relate to this is
extra-dimensional travel.  He never personally believed much in
the theories of other dimensions.  He still doesn't, not until
given some hard-core proof.  And magic?  What of that?  An even
more absurd belief.  But what about the Vistani?  SOMETHING
happened yesterday, he knows that.  People and vehicles don't
just vanish without a trace.  But it HAD happened...  No, it
can't be magic.  There had to be some logical explanation for it.
He will have to search it out in time.  Well, now that most of
his bases are covered he might as well focus on the less
important issues.  Emile has really begun to bring him grief.  He
feels as though he's running about with a small child.  True,
Largo isn't much older than her.  He was in his mid-twenties when
he died as Brian J. Mason, and his mechanical body has only been
in use for two years.  But her personality is so infantile to
him.  Physically he finds her quite appealing, almost
irresistible.  She is still the physical model of perfection,
aside from the slight bruises on her face from the morning.  But
mentally she is his inferior in every way.  In the way of raw
intelligence she isn't stupid, but she isn't brilliant either.
And her belief in the supernatural is so strong that he actually
finds her somewhat repulsive.  That coupled along with her
incredible innocence and sweetness makes her quite unappealing to
him.  The closest he had ever come to love is the woman who
brought about his downfall, Celia Stingray.  Of course Celia
isn't as physically beautiful as Emile, not that she's
unattractive in the slightest, but beyond the attraction of the
flesh she is everything he looks for in a woman.  She is a
brilliant scientist, her intelligence rivaling his own.  She is
strong willed, fearless, an incredible air of power flowing from
her.  Why couldn't she have seen his view, understood his grand
position?  She should have joined him.  He could have made her a
goddess, an equal to himself.  But instead she opposed him,
thwarted his plans with those accursed bitches the Knight Sabers!
Together they tore apart his body using his own laser satellite
system, then forced him to endure a year of incredible pain as he
planned his revenge, living as a mess of melted circuits and
nano-fibers, sacrificing his healing to better prepare for the
destruction of MegaTokyo.  Now look at him : a god trapped among
uncivilized, backwards humans, forced to rely on the help of an
old man for shelter or restricting himself to care for a
love-struck girl.  It is degrading, sickening...

The animals in the barn begin to shuffle about nervously, then
some start to jump around as though in fear of something.  Largo
opens his eyes and sits up, looking about.  The lamp has dimmed,
but it is still bright enough to give an eerie yellow-orange glow
to the room.  What are they getting so scared about?  Emile
begins to stir.  She sits up and rubs her eyes, then notices the
panicking animals.

Emile (sleepily) : What's going on?
Largo (raising a hand) : Sssh.

Largo looks around the room carefully.  There's nothing inside.
Largo changes to infrared scan and once again sees nothing within
the barn.  He increases his range and looks beyond the barn's
walls.  He can see a vague heat scan coming from the old man's
house outside, probably the fireplace, but beyond that there's no
sign of --

Suddenly there is a loud terrified yell from the house, the

screams of the old man.  Largo and Emile are both startled, and
the animals are all bolting around in terror.  Emile jumps up and
runs to the door, trying to peer through the cracks.  Largo gets
up leisurely and walks over to her.

Emile (trying to shake open the door) : We've got to help him!!
Largo : Why?
Emile : He was willing to help US!!  We can't just stand here and
watch him get hurt!
Largo (thinking) : Well, he WAS going to give me directions to
the village of Barovia...  I suppose I have to play hero TWICE
today.

Largo walks up to the barn door and rips it from its hinges with
one hand.  Emile stares in awe as he tosses it to one side
without any effort.  Largo runs out to the small house with Emile
in pursuit and smashes through the front door.  What lies before
him is something he has never seen before nor something he
thought he would ever see, and does indeed enlighten him to the
philosophy of magic : the old man is desperately clinging to his
floorboards trying to avoid being pulled in by a skeleton.  A
bare, ordinary skeleton, devoid of any mechanics, muscles, or any
other source of motion control.  The skeleton has him by the leg
and is slowly tugging at him.  The room is not limited to just
one strange beast... there are two more skeletons crawling about,
mindlessly tearing the place to pieces.  One more is snaking its
way through what must have been their main accessway, a side
window which has been broken open.  At his grand entrance all the
skeletons stop what they are doing and look up at Largo with
dark, empty sockets.  Largo, completely shocked, merely looks
back, not knowing what to think or do.  Emile finally catches up
and gasps at the sight of undead.  The old man is still clinging
to the floor with scarred and bloody fingers.  His face has a few
bloody scratches; one of the skeletons must have raked him with
its bony digits.  He looks up at Largo and Emile pleadingly.

Old man : HELP ME, PLEASE!!!

The skeletons forget about the old man and make their way to the
younger meat.  Largo shakes out of his stupor and moves into a
defensive position.

Largo (from the side of his mouth) : Emile, I'll lead them away
from the house.  Once clear get to the old man and pull him to
safety (Emile is obviously quite scared, but nods that she
understands).

Emile moves away from Largo.  Two of the skeletons see her move
and walk towards her, but Largo blocks their path, drawing their
attention.  Apparently whatever animates the skeletons doesn't
give them much of an intelligence, for they seem to forget all
about Emile and the old man and go for the last thing they have
seen : Largo.  He slowly backs out of the house and into the open
grove, the four skeletons following.  Once the skeletons are out
of range from the house Emile runs over to the old man and tries
to tend to whatever injuries he may have.  Largo doesn't have any
idea what to expect from these skeletons.  If they truly ARE
products of magic they could possibly do anything, perhaps even
overpower HIM.  Largo sterns himself and readies for combat,
which the skeletons are apparently anticipating.

[MAIN UNIT IS AT COMBAT READINESS LEVEL FIVE]

Largo (thinking) : I hope that's enough...

One of the skeletons makes a swipe at Largo.  While slightly fast
by human standards Largo dodges it with incredible ease.  In a
quick punch he strikes the spinal column, which shatters upon
contact and falls to the ground in a shower of splinters.  What's
left of the skeleton twitches a little as it tries to get back
up, but the damage is too extensive, and the mess of broken bones
goes limp.  Largo stares amazed at the finally-dead creature,
surprised at how easily it was defeated.  Before he knows it
another skeleton is on his back while another is jumping at him,
its clawed hands preparing to go for his neck.  Largo
effortlessly breaks the first skeleton's grip on him, grabs it by
the rib cage, and slams it into the oncoming skeleton.  The two
smash into each other, exploding into a cloud of white bone.
Largo smiles confidently.  These creatures, magical or not, are
just human bones, given life and a little abnormal strength and
speed.  The final skeleton tries to strike Largo, which once
again he dodges with ease.  Largo quickly grabs the skeleton by
the head and laughs at its futile attempts to break his grip.  He
increases pressure to the head, and with a loud CRUNCH the skull
caves inward.  Largo releases his grip on the monster.  The
skeleton staggers about for a second, then freezes up and
collapses to the ground, truly dead.  Is this the so-called magic
of this land?  Is this the biggest threat it can produce?!  If
that is the case there is nothing that Largo need fear.  Largo
turns back towards the house and sees Emile standing in the
doorway.  She is looking at him in complete amazement; obviously
she witnessed the whole battle.  Largo walks up to her, but she
doesn't seem afraid of him, merely surprised.  Largo looks in the
room.  The old man is unconscious on his bed, a couple of wet
rags on his scraped face and around his hands.

Emile (unsure what to say) : Uh, he, um, passed out after they
left.  Other than a few scrapes he'll be okay...
Largo (looks at her closely smiling) : You wish to ask me
something, don't you?
Emile : I, uh... I-I'm not... I don't know...

Emile looks around apprehensively for a second, then looks at
Largo, then back out at the unmoving pile of bones.  She doesn't
know what to say.  This is the man she loves, the man who saved
her life and risked his own life for the sake of a complete
stranger that took them in.  What would he reveal to her?  What
could he possibly be that would scare her so much?  She doesn't
want to shatter the illusion of his perfection.  True, he can be
harsh if he feels the need, but it's nothing that she can't work
with him on, nothing that can't be fixed with time and her tender
care.  Now she's presented with the danger of seeing him in a new
form, learning about what beasts truly live within the man.  She
doesn't want to see it... But she loves him, and if she wants to
continue being with him, she must know what it is she is with...

Emile silently nods her agreement to Largo.  Largo smiles and
leads her out of the view of the old man, over to where the bones
are.  They appear permanently dead, but she moves around them
cautiously just to make sure.  Largo stands tall in small open
spot near the bones, the bright full moon above illuminating him
clearly, almost like daylight.  Largo looks at her once more with
a devious smile on his face.  She nods once again, ready for
whatever he might show her.  Largo slowly unbuttons his tunic,
then pulls his shirt off swiftly and tosses it into the air.  The
shirt gently billows as it is carried by the light breeze,
rustling slightly as it settles to the ground and caresses the
shadowy grass below it.  Emile looks at Largo with a look that
can only be defined as fearful astonishment.  The man is still
human shaped, with the same general appearance as before, but he
is certainly no human... His skin has changed to a shade of light
gray, his hair a deep purple.  His chest is made of what looks
like black armor, his elbows and knuckles shielded by small black
joints.  From his back comes a quick cloud of vapor out of a
series of small vents.  His muscles have also become slightly
blockier.  But the most shocking sight is his face.  A series of
pulsing red veins line his jaw, and his eyes... his eyes are jet
black with a set of glowing red pupils.  She looks at the eyes
intently, but something seems so wrong about them, almost as
though... they aren't real.

Largo looks at her, interested to see what her response may be.
She isn't looking directly at him anymore, but she can feel his
red eyes gazing at her, analyzing her.  Largo stands with his
arms crossed, waiting for her reaction.  Slowly, Emile looks back
up at him.  Her face is still giving off a tinge of fear, but
she's doing everything in her power to hold it in.  Emile takes

one step towards Largo, then another, and another, until she is
standing a few feet before him.  She stares intently into his red
pupils, then closes her eyes, walks right up to him, and holds
him tightly.

Emile (softly) : I still love you...

                            Part  Four
He isn't human, but she doesn't care.  She still loves him.
Largo looks down at her with a great deal of interest.  Even
after seeing him in his true form she is still willing to trust
him... The moonlight beats down on the two as they stand there,
Emile holding on to Largo as though her life depends on it, Largo
standing with his arms to his sides, studying her actions.  Emile
looks longingly up at Largo, her eyes asking for him to return
her affection.  Should he?  He doesn't actually love her; hell,
he has little need for her at all now.  Somewhere inside of him
Largo feels compassion for her, for he will never truthfully
return her love and she cannot see that.  But in the end,
whatever bits of humanity still hang on within him can never
truly hold sway to the whole, and the whole is too consumed with
the desire of power to be interested in the desires of a mere
woman... Largo takes a hold of Emile's hands and removes her grip
on him.  Emile's look changes from longing to sadness as Largo
turns from her, picks up his shirt, and heads back to the house.

[HUMAN MASK SYSTEMS REINITIALIZED]

Emile watches Largo revert back into the shape she is more
familiar with : the tall, beautiful man with a head of
well-styled gray hair.  She stands alone in the dark, the
moonlight not seeming as bright as it had been before.  The wind
fans her tattered dress, her hair flowing in the breeze.  She
feels a terrible pain stab inside her chest; is this what they
call a broken heart?  Did she do something wrong?  Did she offend
him in some unknown way?  Emile runs up to Largo, now inside the
old man's house.

Emile : Largo, what did I --
Largo (paying her pleas no mind) : I'll stand watch until
sunrise.  Watch over our host and let me know when he wakes up.

With that Largo walks out the door and stands a few yards from
the entrance, watching for whatever might attempt to follow up
the skeletons' job.  Emile stays in the house, looking at where
he last stood.  She feels tears beginning to well up within her
and tries to force them back down, but she's gone through too
much to hold it back. From outside Largo can hear her begin to
sob.  For a second he looks back to the house, then continues his
vigil...

The sun slowly breaks over the mountains.  For the last six hours
Largo has stood his ground without moving, scanning the land over
and over again, but nothing has attempted to invade the area
since the skeletons.  From the house Largo hears Emile call out.
The old man has finally woken up.  It's about time, now he can
get this idiotic quest over with.  Largo comes back in and sees
the man sitting up, wide awake.  Emile is serving him a cup of
water.  Upon Largo's entrance the old man puts down his cup and
jumps out of his bed, running up to the buma.  He takes Largo's
hand and thanks him continuously for saving his life, which Largo
absently acknowledges.  Largo decides to begin business
immediately.

Largo : Where is the village of Barovia?
Old man (still shaking Largo's hand) : Village?  Oh.  OH, the
VILLAGE! Forgive me, I'm still shaken up by the events of last
night.  How were you ever able to stop those evil beasts?  You
must be some sort of palad--
Largo : Answer my question.  Where is the village?
Old man : Right, the village!  Head northwest as the crow flies
for a few miles.  You'll reach a large bank of fog.  Go through,
the town will be inside, lying upstream from the River Ivlis.
Largo : A fog bank?  How do you know?
Old man : Oh, it's always been there.  Anyway, if you need a
place to stay there should be an inn or tw-- (Largo turns to
leave before the old man finishes).  Hold up, son.  You're so
excited to leave you've forgotten your lady.
Largo (looking back over his shoulder) : She is NOT my... "lady".
Let her stay here if you desire, she can help you repair your
window and door.

With that Largo walks out of the house.  The old man stands there
scratching his head, wondering what has just transpired.  Emile,
unwilling to just stand there and cry, runs out the door and in
front of Largo, blocking his way with her arms spread.  Although
her eyes are red and puffy her face has become very stern.  She
obviously isn't willing to let him leave her just like that.
Largo looks at her curiously.

Largo (annoyed) : What do you hope to accomplish by blocking my
way?
Emile (angrily) : You're not leaving me to rot like this!  I've
risked too much to just let you abandon me without a word or
explanation!!
Largo : You desire an explanation?  Fine, I will be blunt.  I do
not love you, Emile.  I never WILL love you.  You are unimportant
to me in every way.  I have business to attend to, and I cannot
go galavanting around the countryside babysitting a love-sick
girl who is too stupid to realize the amount of danger she has
put herself through for nothing.  There, I have given you your
"explanation".  Your curiosity has been satisfied.  Now get out
of my way.

Emile's expression has not changed.  Although the tears are
flowing freely now she still maintains her stern expression.  She
walks up to Largo, who stops at her advancement, and rightly
slaps him across the face.  Largo has not flinched or even moved
at this; such an act will cause him no physical discomfort in the
slightest.  Emile stands her ground as well, although her hand
has become red and is beginning to swell from hitting him.  She
looks at him with a forcefulness he hadn't seen before, and all
he can do is look at her in surprise.

Emile : Regardless of what you may think about me I still love
you.

Then you are a fool.  That is what Largo should say.  That is
what he wants to say.  But he doesn't.  Why not?  His feelings
for her have not changed in the slightest.  Or have they?  True,
he still carries no affection for her, but she has displayed
something he didn't think she had.  She has courage.  She has
seen what he is, she knows what he is capable of doing.  He could
easily kill her without losing a second of sleep.  He would have
done it in a second to anyone else who had the audacity to strike
him.  But she is a mere girl, and here she is, standing up to him
with bravery.  True, it was very foolish, but still a brave and
daring act.  Very well, she has earned a kernel of his respect.

Largo (turning around and addressing the old man, who is watching
from his broken entryway) : Old man, I ask a favor of you.  Watch
over the girl until I return.  I'm not certain how long it may
be, but when I do return I will escort her back to her home.
Old man (confused) : O-of course...

Aparently Emile had not expected such a response either.  No, he
has not guaranteed that he will stay with her, but something
about the way he said this... He will return to take her home.
This she is sure of. At the moment that will have to do.  She
doesn't know how to feel about this.  She will see him again, but
he may just abandon her again in Kellee.  It's like a rush of hot
and cold at the same time.  Largo continues his hike to the
Barovian village, looking at her at he passes.

Largo : I will return.
Emile : I will be waiting.

She watches him march off in the new morning sunlight until he
disappears over the grassy horizon, the haze of the evaporating
morning dew blurring his image as he goes.  Now all she can do is
hope that when he does return she will somehow be able to win
more than just his respect...

Old man (walking up to her and patting her on the shoulder) :
Well, let's get working on those windows and doors, eh, miss?
Emile : Huh?  Oh... (smiling) Right (turns back to the house with
the old man).

Largo treks the few miles across the chilly grasses of Barovia
until he reaches the bank of fog that is supposed to surround
Strahd's infamous little village.  Interesting, even with the
cold temperatures this fog should not be able to exist here, and
why is it so localized? Another product of "magic" perhaps?
Magic.  Even after battling the skeletons the idea sounds so
absurd.  Sure, it's pretty impossible for bare skeletons to move
without the aid of SOME external force, but still... Waving one's
hand around and saying a bunch of funny words to produce some
paranormal effects is completely ludicrous!  Hmm, maybe psionics
have something to do wwith it all.  While mental powers are rare
in MegaTokyo there has been some scientific evidence to support
espers, a LOT more evidence than backing up the claim of magic.
More subjects for future study, although to be honest Largo hopes
he gets out of this strange land before he has any more
opportunities to study it.  Largo walks into the fog, and after
three-hundred feet emerges to the other side, then follows the
River Ivlis upstream until he sees some houses not to far in the
distance.  Ah, the village of Barovia, just where the old man
said it would be.  Largo takes a look at the small town : nestled
deep within the valley, he can already see the village has a
powerful air of despair to it.  As he walks into the streets he
sees the houses have been built sturdier than most of the others
he's seen in this land, whitewashed constructs of timber and
plaster two or three stories each.  The eaves are adorned with
floral and geometric patterns in yellow and red.  This town is
pitifully small, probably consisting of no more than five-hundred
people, but at least there's no filth in the streets and the air
is clean, a distinct improvement from Kantora.  Largo takes a
look at some of the citizens trading goods at a nearby building.
One, the man, is thick and stocky, with broad shoulders and brown
hair wearing a long droopy moustache.  He is wearing a white
shirt and an embroidered sheepskin vest.  The woman he is
bartering with is middle aged with large hips and long, loose
black hair covered with a kerchief and a dark, drab dress.  As he
passes both stop talking and look at him suspiciously with their
dark eyes.  Largo decides to start his inquiries and turns back
towards them, only to see that they have both taken on rather
gruff attitudes at the sight of a stranger.  Hmph, their
attitudes towards him are of no concern.  He came for
information, not their friendship.  Still, it's better to play
nice; they will be more willing to grant data than if forced.

Largo : Excuse me, I am in need of some aid...
Village man : <Eh?  Hilda, this man doesn't speak Balok.>
Hilda : <So what do you want me to do about it?  I don't know any
foreign tongues.>

Up to this point Largo has had little trouble talking to people
since everyone he has met speaks English.  No problem, a quick
analysis shows that they are speaking a strange combination of
Serbian and old Russian, accented with heavy consonants.  After
hearing a little more he should be able to adapt to the language.

Largo : <I pardon. Looking fors stuffs in data.>
Hilda : <What did he just say?>
Village man : <Yech, what a horrible adaptation of Balok.  Where
do you suppose he comes from?>
Hilda : <How should I know?  Darkon, perhaps.  I hear they have
large cities there with people from all around the world.>
Largo (tries once more) : <I said could you help I?  I searching
am for information.> (the two look at him funny, then the village
man becomes annoyed)
Village man : <Well, boy, do you speak Balok or don't you?  I
have things to do today!>
Largo : <I obviously speak your language, don't I?  And now that
you can understand me I believe you can start helping me.>
Hilda : <What do you want?  Information, was it?  You'd better
not be getting too snoopy with us, foreigner.  We tend to dislike
the curious.>
Largo : <I have business to attend to with your town leader.
Unfortunately I don't know him very well and was hoping someone
could tell me a little about him so I wouldn't do anything to
offend or embarass him as we talk.>
Village man : <You have business with burgoemaster Schmedt?  Then
you're either very early or very late.  He's in Vallaki
discussing trade improvement with their town council.>
Largo : <Burgoemaster Schmedt?  No, I am looking for a man named
von Zarovich.>

At this the two Barovians almost keel over with shock.  The woman
runs into her house while the man follows suit, holding up his
hands in some arcane gesture and canting what sounds like he's
trying to ward off evil.  The door slams tightly shut, leaving
Largo wondering what has just transpired.  He spots another
couple of old villagers, but upon mentioning von Zarovich they go
through the exact same ritual and seal themselves within their
house.  Largo decides to give it one more try, but searches out a
younger crowd this time.  After walking through the little
village for a few minutes he comes across his target.  Largo
walks up a young girl with blonde hair in braids and the typical
dark clothing that the other village women wear.  Excellent, she
can't be more than seventeen.  Now, as long as he can avoid
attracting another love-sick puppydog...

Largo : <Pardom me, my dear.>
Girl (looks at the approaching Largo) : <Hm?>
Largo (bows courteously) : <I seem to have a problem, and was
wondering if you could help me.>
Girl (obviously taken by his good looks) : <Uh, sure... Wh-what
can I, uh, do for you?>
Largo : <I am a stranger to your peaceful little village, an
innocent farmer, and I have been searching out a man with whom I
have business with.  Unfortunately, he seems rather unpopular
with the majority of your town, so I have been unable to get any
information on him.  By chance, would you be willing to help me?>
Girl (trying to make a good impression) : <O-of course!  I'll be
happy to help!>
Largo : <Good. His name is... Strahd von Zarovich.>

Obviously the name hits the girl very strongly as well.  Largo is
waiting for her to turn and run for the hills, trying to cast off
evil all the way, but fortunately she only takes a couple of
steps back in surprise.  Excellent, she's young enough so that
she's skeptical about such superstitious things.  Largo decides
to press his advantage.

Largo : <You know of him?>
Girl : <All know of the Devil Strahd. (makes an arcane symbol at
the mention of his name) He rules on high from Castle Ravenloft
(points at a scraggly peak in the distance.  From where he is
Largo can see a castle in a perfect spot to overlook the
village).>
Largo : <What can you tell me of this "Devil Strahd"?>
Girl (beginning to look scared) : <I really don't know if we
should be talking of him...>
Largo : <Please.  I would be very...(takes her hand) grateful.>
(at this the girl's fears melt away instantly.  She looks ready
to sell her own grandparents for whatever gratitude Largo might
mean)
Girl : <Count Strahd has been ruling over us for over three
centuries. We speculate that he sold us to the Dark Powers for
the unlimited years on his life, and so all of our generations
have been under his yoke, as will probably be the case with all
of our future generations as well.  I don't know much about
him...>
Largo : <I will appreciate ANY help.>
Girl : <All I can say is that he is truly an evil man.  He
commands great magics, and although he rarely visits us whenever
he does it will usually mean certain doom for someone.  And on
top of it all he entraps us within this town using that poisonous
fog that surrounds our village, only allowing a select few, such
as burgoemaster Schmedt, to leave on rare occasions.  He is truly
a terrible man...>
Largo : <Thank you, my dear.  You have helped me more than words
can say.>

Largo kisses her on the hand and walks off in the direction of
the castle.  The girl just stands there looking dreamy eyed and
blushing, apparently floating on cloud nine.  Until the village
man seen before comes up and grabs her by the wrist pulling her
back in the house, scolding her for talking to strangers.  Largo
steps out of the tiny little village and looks at the looming
Castle Ravenloft.  A remarkable structure indeed, its steep walls
and piercing towers laid out so high that they seem ready to tear
the sky above them.  So, what has he uncovered so far?  Thanks to
the superstitious villagers nothing much.  Only that Strahd has
been alive for three-hundred years, rules at a distance with an
iron fist, and is skilled in the use of magic.  Well, one out of
three is a pretty awful amount of data, but he has nothing else
to go on.  Now, how to get up to the castle?  It rests on a
one-thousand-foot tall precipice, such an excllent defensive
position that it would certainly be impossible for soldiers of
old to break into, although its remote location would make it
disastrous to be caught without food or supplies for danger of
quick starvation.  Besides, there is no need to climb such a
distance. Every castle has a front entrance.  Otherwise how would
Strahd ever leave?  Largo searches around and successfully sights
a north road leading up the mountain.

After treking five miles uphill Largo finally reaches Castle
Ravenloft's ominous front entrance.  He would have made it up
much faster if it hadn't been for such a trecherous road.  The
area is already blanketed in ice and snow; it must truly be
hazardous in the winters, when blizzards would probably blanket
the mountainside.  The view he sees is truly a dazzling sight...
The sky is a clear blue with an occassional patch of cloud
hovering about, the brilliant sun shining down and reflecting
brightly against the ice patches of the path.  A thousand feet
below he can see the tiny village of Barovia sitting in its small
valley, its border of fog keeping steady in the distance.  Before
him looms the great maw of Strahd's castle, spanned by a rotting
twenty-foot drawbridge that doesn't appear to have been in use
for quite some time.  While the drawbridge is conviniently laid
out before him, the rotting, wooden portcullis at the small
entryway's end is not quite as friendly, tightly sealing the
entryway shut.  Largo does not feel like waiting for his host to
notice his approach, so he lifts the portcullis, crawls through
the makeshift entrance, and casually releases it, letting it drop
with a loud BOOM to its original resting place.  Largo looks
about the castle grounds.  If Strahd truly does live here he
doesn't think much of cleaning : the open courtyard is a mess of
overgrown weeds and torn up rocks.  On a number of rocks Largo
can see dried blood of unknown age, although no corpses are lying
about.  Largo continues on into the main castle complex, through
a pair of ornate gargantuan doors into the main hall.  The place
is a great monument to decay, falling appart at the seams and
cloaked in thick layers of dust.  This is ridiculous, what kind
of human would live like this?  The incredible amount of dust
would clog a human's air passages if given enough time, and even
Largo prefers a good amount of order wherever he sets up camp.
Largo wanders around the castle some more, finding the guest
halls, the dining halls, and a number of living quarters.
Whoever used to live here left in a hurry, since the rooms are
overflowing with the trinkets of gold that humans find so
precious.  Apparently this place is quite taboo since no one has
come to claim the jewelry yet.  A little more wandering and Largo
discovers a steep circular staircase leading into the high tower.
Funny, as he climbs the stairs he feels as though the temperature
has dropped a bit, although internal sensors indicate the
temperature has  remained fairly constant ever since he first
arrived.  Due to the absence of windows or light sources Largo
activates night-vision until he finally reaches an openning at
the top and steps out.  The sun is shining at its noon position,
although the temperature outside has not changed at all.  The
view of the entire castle is available now, and Largo is somewhat
dissapointed.  There are no signs of life.  Anywhere in the
castle.  There must be some mistake, there's no evidence that any
creature has been in the castle for years.  It's completely
empty, devoid of activity.  So much for the mighty Strahd; if he
really DID rule Barovia he would have to keep some form of
militia, and this castle certainly holds no armies.  And if he
does live here, somewhere, then he certainly can't be any match
for Largo.  It seems that von Zarovich has evolved into a tall
tale, and even after so many years the people have conned
themselves into believing it.  Largo looks over the castle once
more.  If he is required to stay in this land much longer this
place seems to be a perfect headquarters.  And the mountains
below may have materials suitable for building his own
long-distance satellite interface, allowing him to finally access
a Global Positioning System.  Largo climbs back down the stairs
and searches around some more, then discovers an old stone
entryway to some underground catacombs.  Hmm, it seems someone
HAS been here recetly after all.  The areas beyond the entrance
are clear of dust and appear as though they have been under quite
a bit of use, although there is no evidence of fingerprints on
any of the doors.  A whole series of passageways and rooms lie
beneath the mountain, strentching on indefinitely.  Largo
discovers a room of particular interest, a crypt with a old
coffin.  The coffin is kept in excellent shape, clean and well
polished, and the crypt itself is apparently well tended, lined
with a few e