Veramocor

Author: Chaos Blade <obstein[at]velocom.com.ar>

Rating: I think it is PG-13, but not too sure

Summary: another of those Halloween episode variations, hope you like

Disclaimer: this is one standard issue disclaimer. It means that I own none of the characters portrayed on the following piece of fanfiction. That ownership belongs to the owners of the respective copyrights.

Note, I do not consider ascension as an Ultima game, chronologically specking, it is just a very poor 'thing' with the Ultima name on it, but nothing more. I am going to go with ideas for the original Ultima 9 (basically in The Guardian's world, big showdown) and well, exactly what happen I am keeping it to myself, but it should be pretty clear by the end.


Chapter 1

Ethan Rayne contemplated his latest sale. A young man had come to his shop to purchase a toy gun. While a soldier or a bandit or perhaps even a deranged mercenary could beautifully add to the night's events, it lacked a certain effect, especially since bullets generally had poor performance against the supernatural, and he had placed quite a few of those costumes with in the shop.

Chaos is above all, conflict; and having a senseless slaughter, while fun, was simply not it. Therefore that was not his objective either

That had been why he had insisted in another costume. And few things spoke of conflict like the romanticized version of a paladin. It had not been an easy sale; the poor kid had barely enough money as it was. But then again in this kind of town's people had a gift to turn the blind eye to the suspicious. But selling a complex costume like that for less than ten bucks was probably stretching it.

Of course this was the way he had rationalized the events.

On the void, the Great Serpent of Chaos carefully watched the events, ensuring Ethan Rayne's ignorance to his intervention in the so called 'natural course of events'. The plan had been born out of chance. It had been only out of pure luck that he and his colleagues had found him. And while he really doubted that his friend would be in any form angry at him, they all would ignore it if the situation had been as accidental as British thought.

If he had learned anything, in the time before his ascension; that is if jumping from paladin hood to crazy glue/consciousness to a living representation of chaos could be called as such; it was that no matter how dark the situation, there was always a worst alternative.

*****

Alexander "Xander" Harris finished securing the thick leather belt around the surcoat while admiring his costume in the mirror.

He had to admit, the costume looked good on him. There was something about the red surcoat, that well. it made him look knightly. Like a medieval knight donning armor, it had taken him some time to complete the costume, but worth it. Placing the prop sword had been more difficult than it looked. Looking back he should have gone with the prop longsword, rather than the two handed. As the longsword only needed to be secured to the belt, unlike the large two handed that was now resting on his back.

It was then when he noticed the time, or rather how late it was and begun a quick dash towards the Summer's residence hoping that he'd be able to catch up with his friends before they left without him.

*****

When the ether wave of Rayne's spell reached Xander, it hit him like a ton of bricks or like a troll on a full run. He gritted his teeth as the shock sent him to his knees. The force had been such that he had nearly blacked out; only the spell's nature prevented this from occurring.

Disoriented and confused, the mind of the warrior quickly begun to scan his surroundings, as his body instinctively switched to a defensive stance. As he assessed the situation, he rapidly came to the conclusion; it was bad; no, it was worst than that.

Mayhem, screams, gunshots, the report of machinegun fire, the sound of far away sirens. It was all around him, it tainted the night in a reddish haze. He had seen scenes like this before, way to many for his likening, but never in that particular setting.

The asphalt, the houses, the cars, the pollution and the large lonely moon, it was unmistakable, no matter how he wanted to be wrong

It was his personal nightmare made real.

The chaos, all around him, and the monsters; somehow he had failed.

If he had had time to think, he would have noticed the holes in his memories, like how he had arrived back to Earth or how disturbed and corrupted the ether was around him. But he did not, in part due to the trio of short demi-humans about to try and rush him.

The lead creature received the full force of his armored boot in the lower abdomen, and with a single fluid motion the Shade Blade came out of its scabbard, ready to deliver death once more. Taking the initiative, he rushed at the second, hitting him with the pommel of the sword on his head, sending him/it? to the floor in a heap. Overextended as he was he had no choice but to offer the blunt of his edge to stall the remaining creature's own attack and then sucker punched it with the sword's armguard sending it into a daze. He readied the blade to finish the dazed creature off.

"Xander! NO!"

Startled by the voice, he spun around searching for its source.

Meanwhile, the creature recovered itself from the hit and seeing his two other partners still out of it, decided that discretion was the better part to valor and fled the area.

"What . what were you doing . how .?" For her part Willow was still shocked. The way her childhood friend had moved, how it had . and almost.

For a second Willow could see a spark of recognition on his eyes. The warrior a felt a brief moment of deja vu, but it faded almost instantly and with it the spark of recognition in his eyes.

"Who, what are you?" he watched warily to the shade in front of him. It felt like a shade, but not completely, it was hard to explain, as if the ether itself could not decide. He had never seen anything like this in all this extensive travels. Still, the girl didn't look like a shade, she still possessed color, felt completely immaterial and there was the issue that she had talked to him with no séance spell in effect. At least not one he knew about.

"What. it. it is me, Willow!"

"Sorry but." he started

"Come on Xander! This isn't the time for jokes" insecurity had given place to forced resolve

"Look miss, I don't know who are you or even what is going on here.

"I-I don't know either. I you.. I-I had dressed like a ghost and now. and you dressed like and now you-you are a knight?" confronted with more evidence, the full weight of the situation started to make its effect on Willow's weakening resolve.

The worst part about what the girl had just had babbled was that it made sense. That was the most disturbing part, (aside that he had been able to fully understand said babbling). The ether disturbance was way too large, and had to be the result of a very potent wide area spell. as disturbing as it, it was also a source for hope. It meant that he had not failed, that. still, the fact that somebody had been able to cast a spell of that level of power was a very serious issue.

Ever since his first visit to Sosaria, all those years ago, he had tried to find true magic on Earth, to no avail. True, the ether field on the planet was weaker than on Britannia, but...

"Buffy!" the ghost lady said pointing at a running figure in a red gown

"Who?"

"Buffy, she. oh god... she." Willow was taken in by the sudden panic. if she, like Xander. then "Friend, we need to help her. come on!!"

*****

From then on the situation went from bad to worst.

Apparently the Buffy girl, who according to Willow was some sort of mystical chosen with the strength to fight against vampires head on, had not being immune to the spell and was now an 18th Century noble woman.

The poor girl had reacted like a scared kitten, she didn't remembered being the slayer, and was well, a very good example of her time.

So, they backtracked to the closest house, the Slayer's, and barricade themselves in. With the hope of either help would arrive soon, or that the effect of the spell would end.

Taking the offensive was out of the question; he would not go cutting bespelled innocents down if he had a choice, but he was the only able body around and leaving the Slayer alone was akin to throwing her to a pack of ravenous wolves.

The alternative was to try and find the source of the spell, but with the ether as disturbed as it was, it would take something close to a miracle to achieve.

But that was not his main concern.

For one thing, he was concerned about the sword. As far as he could tell it was the Shade Blade, but how a prop sword had become a blackrock blade. it was beyond him.

No matter how much power we were speaking about, that type of transmutation would be impossible. Teleportation perhaps was the only reasonable alternative. That almost definitely meant that the sword would remain once the spell affecting the area, and him, went bye-bye.

Leaving such a weapon behind would be quite the issue, especially in untrained hands, but it was not nearly as preoccupying as the evident holes in his memory.

He remembered most of things, up until his escape from Pagan, and his transformation onto the Titan of Ether. But afterwards his escape through the black moongate, it all started to became more and more abstract. He did remember being on the Guardian's world, and the defeat of his nemesis. But that was it, nothing else and to top it off he was no longer a Titan of Ether. Not that it was a bad thing, hell, he'd preferred it that way, but was where had that power gone.

From his understanding it was not something that could have been easily undone, if it at all. It just gave him a very bad feeling.

TBC…