Shadowcroft Year 3 - Chapter Thirty-Seven

Logan infected Marko with his Symbiotic spores, and the fungal growths sprouted on Marko’s head and shoulders, looking like a white dust against his dark fur. His hair was slowly returning to normal, though it was hard to call him normal, since he looked like a silent French clown mixed with a farm animal.

All four of the core gems floated over the pedestal.

A second later, Logan and the Terrible Twelfth were seeing Marko’s updated Guardian Core Matrix in real time. It was beyond impressive.

<<< ۝>>>

Marko Laskarelis

Guardian Core Matrix

Base Race: Dungeon Satyr

Current Evolution: Nether Mime

Cultivator Class: Azure Branch Cultivator; B Class, Rank 10

Primary Elemental Affinities: Aqua/Umbra

Racial Abilities:

Silver Tongued, Blood of the Fae, Goat Step (NEW!)

Racial Skill:

- Spectral Song

- Unrelenting Debauchery

- Dancer’s Dodge (NEW!)

- Wicked Aim (NEW!)

College of Rhetoric:

- Vicious Insult

- Ventriloquist

- Language of Dance

o Nataraja’s Wretched Rhythm

o The Dumbshow of Burguk

College of Shadows:

- Living Artistry

- Shadow Betrayal

o Eldritch Shadow Play

- Summon Feast

o Die Pies (NEW!)

College of Form:

- Mannequin

o Dummy Head Destruction (NEW!)

- Mimic Form

- Crazy Clown Posse (NEW!)

o Markalo Carriage Trickery (NEW!)

College of the Mimestry (NEW!)

- Jaunty Beret of Hat Trickery (NEW!)

o Beret of Krulling (NEW!)

o Beret of Holding (NEW!)

o Beret of Puppetronics (NEW!)

- Gravitatious Clownocity (NEW!)

- Reality Mime (NEW!)

o Lesser Motions (NEW!)

o Intermediate Clownetic Building (Locked!)

o Advanced Mimetic Creations (Locked!)

- Acid Daisy (NEW!)

- Ropes of Dropping (NEW!)

o Garbage Drop (NEW!)

o Anvil Drop (Locked!)

o Piano Drop (Locked!)

- Annoying Close-Up Magic (NEW!)

<<< ۝ >>>

No one said a thing for several minutes.

Logan couldn’t believe the advancements. Treacle’s skills had been impressive. Marko’s abilities, though, had basically doubled. Had the satyr just become the most powerful member of their cohort?

Marko was now a nether mime, which was an amazing evolution name.

And to think, they laughed about the whole clown school thing. It seemed it really had been a clown college after all and, according to Marko, the Blue Divine Philter had really helped push him to achieve the impossible. Suffering through Marko’s paranoid and narcissism had been worth it in the end.

Logan remembered what Rockheart had said—a dungeon guardian could leap to A-Class with half the work. For Marko, it was more like a quarter of the effort. And yet, here they were. Ascension really was a mystery.

Tet let out a hiss. “I do not see what you all are ogling. Would you be able to show me the goat man’s new skills?”

“I do apologize,” Inga said, a bit flustered. She used her gem like a video crystal to broadcast Marko’s updated Matrix.

Tet carefully read through the skills. “I’m not sure what some of these abilities are. Crazy Clown Posse? A clown carriage? Die pies? And what is a Beret of Krulling?”

Marko laughed maniacally. “I am dying to show you. Or you’ll be dying.” Marko caught himself. “Not you specifically, Tet. That was just showmanship and wordplay. And speaking of play, how about we play a little game. I’ll take over the dungeon alone, craft a quick inner sanctum, and you all can send in your minions in a full-on siege mode.” Marko cracked his knuckles. “Let me just get my game face on. Or off.”

He mimed having a purse, and the ghostly shape of a purse appeared. Then, with nimble fingers, he mimed pulling out a mirror, makeup remover, and cotton balls. When he mimed taking off the makeup, the face paint disappeared. He then slung the purse around his back, were it vanished. “That is some Lesser Motion Reality miming. I can do the small stuff for now. At some point, I’ll basically be able to reshape reality permanently. It’s just a little thing I’ll be able to do. No big deal. Shaping all of reality with my mind and advanced charades.”

“We are all doomed,” Tet breathed.

Inga shook off her shock. “Marko is a friend. This will only help us protect the Tree of Souls. I love Marko’s idea! We’ll craft our minions, and then come bursting in.”

Logan still wasn’t sure what to say about Marko’s ascension. In some ways, it felt too good to be true. He couldn’t wait to face off with Lou Shador and his Glow Brigade. “Okay, let’s create a quick entryway to the inner sanctum. Don’t get fancy, Marko. We don’t have all night. Our main goal is to see your new skills in action.”

“Gotcha, boss,” Marko shot him twin finger guns. “I think with Intermediate Clownetic Building, I can literally turn my fingers into what you Urothlings refer to as guns. I’ll keep it simple, sweetie.”

Logan knew that was probably a lost cause as he retrieved his core and reattached it to his belly. He turned and headed into the generic dungeon hallway with the others in tow. Marko seemed extremely confident in his ability to fend them all off, so Logan didn’t hold back. He crafted six elite waddlers, decked out in Crimson Coral armor, and summoned six spore wargs to serve as their respective mounts. They be fast, mean, and mobile—a deadly combination for the unprepared.

Inga generated Roy Boy, and upgraded him until he was massively strong. The Spartan Centipede Warrior towered over her other giant centipedes. She also added a few giant spiders just to be safe.

Treacle had fitted his candied Ugknot Calfling in new bright pink armor. The miniature minotaurs had a variety of weapons at their disposal. Treacle upgraded one of the Calflings into a floor boss and gave him a jawbreaker gatling gun as well as gummy armor, capable of absorbing an insane amount of physical damage. There wasn’t a lot of room in the hall, so Treacle didn’t summon his gummy bulls nor his peep golems, but it was still a formidable force.

Tet walked around the minions, shaking her head. “And this is the Terrible Twelfth that Chadrigoth used to revile so. You have come far, and in truth, you have surpassed us. Even me. And I thought my minions were fierce.

With that, Tet summoned her Mew Serpents, a handful of Mummified Baasts, and two of her Khopesh Beetles. The Mew Serpents were fearsome things without a doubt—like the unholy love child of a saber-tooth tiger and a king cobra. Each had a long, lashing tail that ended in a wickedly sharp black blade. The Baasts were lithe mummified cat men equipped with bronze armor, shields, and swords. Her Khopesh beetles were huge, armored insectile tanks with big sickle swords instead of mandibles.

Logan’s wimpy little fungal minions just weren’t that impressive in comparison to the rest of the assembled mobs, but they would serve well enough. Mariah Carey rode Noodle over to Logan. “Don’t worry,” she squeaked in her high-pitched voice. “Let go of the minion envy. We might not be mighty, but we are plucky.” She waved her crimson shepherd’s crook. In her armor, she was pretty fearsome.

Logan watched as the bare entrance to the Inner Sanctum shimmered and transformed into the entrance of a tent—a big top. Large round lights appeared, spelling out the name of the practice dungeon, Marko’s Mime Time Circus and Exhibitionary.

Treacle took out a sheaf of dried and wheat and took a bite. “I don’t think most of the words describing his abilities are actually words. Like ‘exhibitionary.’ That’s not a word.”

“I had that same thought,” Inga said. “Mimestry? Mimetic? Clownetic. Not a single one of them are actual words. I wasn’t going to say anything because I did not wish to be that girl.”

Tet came over and patted Inga’s shoulder. “You and I are always that girl. Don’t get me started on Gravitatious Clownocity. I suspect that is just juggling.”

“Nothing is just juggling!” Marko’s maniacal laugher broke through the tent flap. What followed was a ringmaster drawing people in. “Come one, come all, for the greatest show in the Ashvattha Multiverse. Step right up. Step right up. And embrace your doom!”

Logan clambered on top of Booker, his evolved Blister warg. “I’ll lead the charge,” he said, glancing over one shoulder at the others. “We’ll start out easy on him. Then Inga, then Treacle, and then we’ll follow that up with Tet’s troops.”

Without waiting for a reply, Logan rode his warg through the ten flaps, and into the big top. He found himself in a large circular arena with a tent rising high overhead, supported by two central poles as thick as tree trunks. Rows of empty seats encircled the perimeter. Marko stood in the center of the ring on a raised circular dais, resplendent in a new outfit—a spangled and sequined circus master’s suit, though he still had that jaunty beret. It went perfectly with his horns. He stood next to a wooden pedestal, painted in colorful images of circus attractions, animals, clowns, and acrobatics.

Inga, Treacle, and Tet had come in and sat in the top row of seats to watch.

Logan rode Booker forward. “Okay, Marko, show me what your beret can do!”

Marko plucked it off his head. “The Jaunty of Beret of Hat Trickery has three abilities.”

“Sure it does,” Logan said. “Because it’s like a hat trick in hockey, I would imagine.”

“I don’t know what hockey is, Urothling. But bear witness to the Beret of Krulling!” Blades ripped through the fabric of the beret, and it went spinning around the circus tent like a magical shuriken, slicing off the legs of Logan’s invading spore wargs.

Suddenly, Logan got it. There was that old 80s movie, Krull, with the weapon that had the spinning blades. For some reason, it was called a glaive. It wasn’t a glaive. But whatever.

The spinning blades swooped down and ripped through Booker’s back legs. Logan was tossed off his beloved spore puppy. He used his Pneumacity ability to float down to the front row of seats.

Mariah Carey rushed past him in a charge, followed by his remaining wargs.

Marko caught the Beret of Krulling and the blades vanished. It was but a simple beret once more. Marko then reached in and pulled out a spiked plunger. “My hat’s second skill is a beret of holding. I have all sorts of cleaning items in there that I can use as weapons. Now observe as I use my Dancer’s Dodge ability to avoid every attack!”

He did a jig around the various minions either trying to cut him apart with crimson coral swords or bite him with their fungal fangs. He then bashed in a waddler’s head with the plunger. “I have a mop spear that’s pretty cool, some cleaning sprays, and my squeegees of ultimate doom. You know, the basics.”

Marko spun in a dazzling circle, the sequins flashing on his suit jacket, and kicked the head off a waddler. “That’s my Goat Step. It let’s me climb almost any surface, but it also gives me some super powerful kicks. Have I mentioned how much I love hooves?”

He then launched into a complicated dance, which ended up mesmerizing all the rest of Logan’s troops.

Marko laughed. “This is my old standby, Nataraja’s Wretched Rhythm, but watch this little trick.” Marko stuffed the plunger back into the beret, and then tossed the beret onto Mariah Carey’s head. “Wicked Aim is really going to help me with both my knife throwing and my beret tossing. Now behold, as I become the Master of Puppetronics.”

“Not a word!” Treacle called down to him, one hand cupped around his mouth.

Mariah suddenly went rigid. Marko’s arm went up. Mariah’s arm went up. Marko did a little tap dancing. Mariah mimicked his every move.

With a snap of his fingers, Marko unleashed his new puppet on the remnants of Logan’s minions. Mariah could do everything that Marko could do, and so her movements were graceful and striking, as she cut apart the rest of the waddlers and wargs.

Poor Mariah had a look of her horror on her mushroom face. “I can’t stop! I am a mere puppetronicster. You can’t see the hidden strings dictating my every move!”

Marko made a fist, which pulled the beret off Mariah’s head.

“Now I can get revenge!” she cried. She took two steps and then was chopped in half by a well-thrown Beret of Krulling.”

Her last words were, “To sleep, to dream, aye, there’s the rub.”

She closed her eyes.

“So dramatic,” Logan sighed. He pulled her Apothos back into his gem core.

“Impressive!” Inga cried from above. “But I am curious to see how you handle my insects!”

Roy Boy led a contingent of giant centipedes down the aisles between the seats.

“You’ve already seen my Reality Mime, but let me show you some true next level Mimestry.” Marko flung up his hands and did the whole invisible wall mime thing.

There was a centipede car crash as the first bug slammed into an invisible barrier, then the next, then then next.

Roy Boy was able to slither around the wreck, but it was a mess. The armored minion crawled quickly down the seats, coming ever closer to where Marko stood next to the dungeon’s wooden pedestal.

Marko mimed pulling on a rope. A ton of garbage tumbled out of the thin air above the spartan centipede. “That combines Reality Mime and Ropes of Pulling. I can only do kitchen trash for now, but it does pack a wallop. And it smells super bad.”

Logan, still in the front row, thought it smelled pretty great.

Roy Boy though, was trying not to gag. The huge centipede had finally made it down into the arena, but Marko was ready for him. He pulled a deck of cards from one sequined pocket, and unfurled them into a fan with one hand. “Now, I get to kind of show off with my Annoying Close-Up Magic. Pick a card, any card.” He taunted. An ace of spades floated into the air, then quickly disappeared back into the mix.

The cards quickly fluttered around Marko’s hands, moving in graceful twirls and artful shuffles. It was hypnotic.

Roy stopped dead in his tracks, stunned into stillness as he searched for his card in the relentless flutter of the deck. A second later, Marko flung the cards, and they cut into Roy’s eyes, blinding him. “Wicked Aim for the win, once more. Sorry, Roy, but time for a little Goat Step.” Marko spun and kicked Roy in the thorax, sending pieces of his armor flying.

Marko then danced back, ducking Roy’s sword swipes easily, and ended the minion by hurling his three magical daggers with a flick of his wrist. “Still have my knives. But now? I can basically hit anything, anywhere. I probably won’t use them very much with the Beret of Krulling, but it’s always good to have a backup weapon.”

The mimed wall had finally failed, but Marko was easily able to kill the other centipedes with his beret. He also flung a spear mop, which flew supernaturally well given that the non-pointy end was a dirty mop head.

Inga made her way down to stand next to Logan. She stood with two arms across her chest and two arms on her hips. “And this is the satyr who never wanted to work.”

“That was before I found the serenity of cleaning bathrooms,” Marko said. “Was I really that obsessed with all that conspiracy theory stuff? That’s so not me.”

Treacle’s Jawbreaker Calfling Cannon started firing jawbreakers from up in the stands. Marko danced back, avoiding every projectile. Dancer’s Dodge wasn’t letting him down. Marko then used Goat Step to hop up the stands, getting closer and closer.

From out of nowhere, he produced a cream covered pie. Or it looked like a cream covered pie at any rate. He tossed the pie into a candied Ugknot Calfling. It landed with a splat and wisps of white steam curled up as a goopy, acid-like substance melted clean through the minotaur minion and proceeded to eat a hole in the wooden stands. Another Calfling inadvertently stepped in it and lost a foot for its trouble.

“Ha! Yeah, that’s right! I have acid pies for now,” Marko said, “and I’ll unlock even more varieties of pies as I rank up. Poison pies. Explosive pies. All sorts of die pies.”

Marko tossed his beret into the air, and juggling pins tumbled out. The hat then sprouted blades and whizzed off with a life of its own, seemingly hell-bent on decapitating Treacle’s floor boss.

Marko, halfway up the stands, was juggling the bowling pins.

“I’ve been curious about his Gravitatious Clownocity,” Inga said, watching the madness of his act.

Marko didn’t just juggle the pins, he also plucked swords and axes from the Calfling’s hands, effortlessly adding them into the mix. In seconds, he was juggling a variety of the objects, and then, without warning, he sent the swords and axes falling back into the faces of the captivated Calflings. Many were chopped into carne asada by their own blades. Marko just grinned like a maniac and kept right on juggling, bowling pins spinning and wheeling through the air in lazy arcs. More amazing still, the satyr somehow managed to scope up one of the Calflings and was now juggling the minion along with everything else.

It was a dizzying display.

Marko finally let the Calfling drop in front of him. The poor guy was so dizzy, he stumbled around drunkenly, arms pinwheeling as he tried to keep his balance.  Marko grabbed the minion by the arm to steady him. “Want to smell the flower on my lapel?” he asked, leaning in close.

The Calfing huffed and attempted to gore Marko, but too late. Out of the flower spurted a stream of acid, melting the minotaur’s face. “That’s Acid Daisy. Pretty simple. Pretty classic. Pretty gross.”

Treacle came marching down, the wooden steps creaking beneath his weight. “That’s enough. Well, Marko, I can’t imagine you have anything left in your repertoire.”

“Oh, I’m just getting started, Treacle ol’ pal. Now it’s time to bring it all together for the main event!”

Marko leapt and danced and Goat Stepped his way back down to the bottom of the seats, taking up a position beside the pedestal. With a wave and a flourish, he began summoning up a dozen mannequins. The unnerving, faceless minions t spread out before him, forming into a half circle. They stood utterly still as they waited for instructions. He cracked his knuckles, pulled out his Luden lute, and raised one hand, preparing to strum the instrument.

“Alright, I’m ready for Tet,” he said, “though I think I’m going to keep my Crazy Clown Posse a secret for now. Just in case we have any spies keeping an eye on us down here. Don’t want to show all our cards.”

Inga’s antennae whirled. “Is he being strategic? Or is he being paranoid?”

“Hard to tell,” Logan replied. But the Crazy Clown Posse couldn’t be what he thought it might be. No. That would be too zany even by Shadowcroft standards—he was sure the name was merely a coincidence.

All thoughts of the Crazy Clown Posse fled his mind as Marko’s hand flashed across the strings of the Luden lute, letting out a discordant jangle that clawed at the air.

Tet had the most minions by far. However, Marko summoned a whole collection of horrible things using his Luden lute, playing a tune that made Logan want to tear out his ears, and he didn’t even have ears. The tentacles horrors, exactly like the kind that had made up his ascension cocoon, attacked Tet’s Mew Serpents and Mummified Baasts. Coils held bodies, ripping off limbs with ease, while fanged mouths removed heads and tore through necks. An obscene, almost comical, amount of blood and gore splashed across the floor of the big top.

It was like watching something straight out of an Evil Dead movie.

While the tentacles did their grisly work, Marko leapt into action, unleashing the full extent of his new abilities, including his Dummy Head Destruction skill. Basically, it turned his mannequins into living bombs. The kamikaze dummies took out both of Tet’s Khopesh Beetles.

Acid pies flew by the dozens, burning through flesh, bandages, and the wooden stands with equal ease. Marko juggled mannequin heads in great, swooping circles and tossed them like grenades. The Beret of Krulling seemed to be everywhere at once, slicing off the heads of mew serpents or disarming, literally, the Mummified Baasts.

Marko finally ended the fight by killing the last Mummified Baast with his two squeegees of ultimate doom, one in each hand, which seemed as sharp as vorpal blades.

Tet clapped as the carnage finally ceased, the last of her forces falling dead and lifeless to the ground. “I am very pleased to witness this display, Marko Laskarelis. You have shown that you are truly on the path of the holy fool. There were times I wondered what Logan and the others saw in you. Now I see it for myself.”

That just made Marko smile. “I appreciate it whisker face, but it’s no big deal. Really. I’m just a simple clown goat trying to save the multiverse.”

Logan couldn’t help but think that with all those new abilities, he’d have no trouble doing just that. Logan was surprised to find that he wasn’t jealous at all. His friend had endured a lot to get here and even though the Blue Divine Philter had helped him advance, Marko had earned his place and his abilities.

He did have one question for the uber-powered Marko, though. “Now that the Blue Divine Philter is out of your system, are you ready to use your conspiracy theory contacts to really lay on the misinformation?”

“I am so ready!” Marko shouted.

“Good,” Logan said. “Because with your help, we’re going to lure in Lou Shador and throw a Die Pie right into his stupid face.”