Morrigan's Bidding Read online

  Lucifer stood up, bowing to Morrigan. “I see that I’ve been outplayed. As he’s obviously not going to take my offer, I’ll be withdrawing and taking my leave. It looks as if God’s right hand might be occupied for some time...” Lucifer let the sentence trail off and vanished in a puff of smoke.

  Coughing at the sulphurous stench of brimstone, Sean waved the air clear. “Why do you offer what they say can’t be done, Morrigan?”

  “They don’t understand everything. You see, we each have many worlds that we can act in. Odin’s pantheon and my own were driven from Earth by Michael’s Lord. Yet, there are many worlds in the multiverse, and there is a world that I think would suit you. I can place you there, in a body created by the Tri Dee Dana themselves.”

  Sean frowned, trying to recall who the Tri Dee Dana were. “Wait, the three gods of crafting?” His brows shot up, “You’re saying I’d have a body made by the gods of craft?”

  Bowing her head a fraction, Morrigan nodded. “Indeed. Your essence would be placed into a body crafted by them. Several of our number would gift you small blessings, then leave you to your own devices on a world to explore at your leisure.”

  “This goes against some of the Agreements,” Odin growled.

  “Indeed. The Lord will be most displeased if you do this, Morrigan,” Michael warned.

  Morrigan ignored them, her jet orbs locking onto Sean’s hazel eyes. “We have spoken at length and are all willing to break those Agreements, if you will agree to my proposal, Sean Aragorn MacDougal.”

  “Why?” Sean asked, perplexed. “Why would your pantheon anger other deities to offer me this?”

  Morrigan looked down, then met his gaze again. “For, long ago, we failed greatly. We seek to right a wrong, and we can, if you will let us. I cannot speak of it, but I promise you can find the answers you seek on that other world.”

  “This farce has gone on long enough,” Michael finally snapped, his heavenly demeanor giving way to righteous anger. “Choose, Sean Aragorn MacDougal.”

  “Valhalla awaits,” Odin added, his voice a deep growl underscored by thunder booming outside the chamber.

  “It is your life, or afterlife, Sean,” Morrigan said, her midnight gaze still locked with his. “Know that, unlike them, we will not hold your choice against you.”

  As Sean continued to stare into her eyes, he could see three futures before him. In one, he sat on a cloud with a blissful smile, gently strumming a harp and singing the Lord’s praises. The next showed him in Valhalla, drinking, fighting, and wenching along with the other warriors, his face twisting into that of a brute, very much like Thor. The last was different; it showed him a vision of himself, standing on a bluff overlooking a green valley as a dragon flew overhead. Glancing back, he saw dozens of people smiling and cheering, waving weapons in the air as they proclaimed their support of him.

  Sitting back as the visions fled, his heart was racing and cold sweat beaded on his forehead. “The fuck?”

  “Vile bitch, you seek to cloud his mind with false visions,” Odin roared.

  “The vision of Heaven was not false. Does it not appeal to you, Sean Aragorn MacDougal?” Michael interjected, trying to impart how wonderful that vision was in truth.

  “Call the Norns to show him then, Odin. They will only concur with me,” Morrigan said simply. “He has the right to know what fate lies before him, depending on his choices,” Morrigan shuddered, her body wavering and going smoky for a moment.

  “What’s happening to you?” Sean asked, his mind still reeling from the visions.

  “I used more of my power than I should have,” Morrigan gasped as she wavered in and out of focus. “The choice is yours, Sean. We will wait for you, if you choose us.”

  Odin shot to his feet, his single eye boring into Sean, “CHOOSE!” The word boomed with the power of thunder and shook the room.

  “Choose!” Michael added in clarion tones, his hand landing on Sean’s shoulder again.

  “At least she has been direct and honest with me,” Sean snapped. “I accept your offer, Morrigan, and you two can go fuck yourselves or each other for all I care.”

  With those words, the room vanished and he found himself floating in darkness. As he tried to figure out what happened, Morrigan’s voice wrapped around him. “You will not regret this, Sean Aragorn MacDougal, on my power. Now rest, while the Tri Dee Dana craft a new body for you.”

  Chapter Two

  Floating in darkness, Sean wondered what was going to happen next. “Sean Aragorn MacDougal, we need input from you on your new body,” a voice washed around him.

  “Who?” Sean asked.

  “You may call me Goibniu,” the voice replied.

  “I am called Credne,” another voice added.

  “And I am Luchta,” a third voice said.

  “The Tri Dee Dana,” Sean murmured. “What is it that the three gods of craft wish from me?”

  “We are about to craft your body, but we wish to ken what you would prefer your body to look like. We can craft anything you imagine, so show us what it is you would wish for this body to be,” Luchta said.

  Frowning, a dozen different images of himself flashed through Sean’s mind. “Can I be other than I was?”

  “Of course,” Credne replied, “you can be as tall or broad as you wish, and as wide or long as you wish.” The last few words were pitched low, making Sean think less than innocent thoughts. “Exactly, we can do that.”

  A frown appeared on his face as Sean considered what they meant. “I can be totally different than I was, or exactly the same?”

  “Aye,” Goibniu said. “Just form the image in your mind and hold it for three beats of your heart.”

  Sean let the possibilities parade through his mind for a moment. He dismissed the idea of being built like Thor, thinking that too much muscle meant you lost too much agility. He didn’t want to be a stick, either, so he compromised on something between the two extremes.

  He held the image of a well-muscled gymnast in his mind. Good, solid muscles without being beefy, average of height, narrow of waist, and a decent set of shoulders. He left his hair the same brown it had always been, and kept the same hazel eyes. He firmed up his jawline just a touch, and narrowed his nose a shade. He adjusted the bits Credne had pointed out as well, but nothing too drastic.

  Holding that image in his mind, he waited for his heart to beat, which it seemed to do, but slowly. Eventually, Luchta spoke again, “We will do this. Know that we are honored that you have agreed to undertake this task, MacDougal. It shames us to know that you will aid us in correcting a grievous error, deepening our debt to you.”

  “Wait, what are you talking about?” Sean asked.

  “Go to work,” Morrigan’s voice, weaker than it had been, echoed in the darkness. “You have already said too much, Luchta.”

  “Morrigan, explain, please,” Sean said.

  “Not everything is as simple as I originally made it out to be,” Morrigan said.

  “Of fucking course. Never trust a God to be honest,” Sean snapped.

  “I was, and am honest, Sean,” Morrigan’s whisper dimmed even more. “I just left off our great shame. We will make no demands of you, but hope that you will do us a favor when you are on the world we are sending you to. Our people are beyond our help there. We are barred from the world, until the Queens have been dethroned. If you can accomplish that, we would be able to help our people and make things right for them once again. The full story can be found there, if you wish to find it, along with our shame. Possibly our redemption, as well.”

  Sean would have bit his lip if he had one, “What does this all mean? Tell me plainly, please.”

  “We cannot. That Agreement holds us silent regarding what awaits you. We’ve waited a long time to see this day come, and have been forced to wait for someone who would agree to help. Still, we will not threaten, cajole, or try to trick you into choosing any path,” Morrigan’s voice was nearly gone. “Follow your heart, Sea
n Aragorn MacDougal, for surely your line knew the truth when we were blind.”

  Before Sean could speak, the darkness around him shimmered, and he felt a sensation of falling. That’s also exactly what it looked like, as small pinpoints of light flashed by him faster and faster. He approached a world, green and vibrant, with small bodies of water dotting the giant land mass. Two moons flew past him, one white and the other blue, as the world rushed up to meet him.

  I wonder if it will be friends with me, Sean thought as he shot towards the ground. Just as he was about to become one with the planet as a crater, his motion stopped and he dropped the last three feet as if he’d stepped off a small ledge. “Thanks for not making me a pancake,” Sean muttered as he took in his surroundings.

  He stood on a ledge overlooking a forest. A small village was visible a handful of miles distant. The wooden roofs spoke of simple folk, living in past centuries. That image made Sean take stock of his own clothing. Trousers and tunic made of a rough material, but the inside of the clothing was soft and slick to the touch. Pulling the tunic away from his neck, a look inside confirmed that it was silk-lined. His feet were clad in silk-lined, short leather boots. A plain leather belt encircled his waist, upon which a small pouch and blade were tied.

  Drawing the large dagger, he frowned as he examined the forearm length, double-edged bronze blade. The craftsmanship was undeniable, but Sean couldn’t figure out why the Tri Dee Dana would use such an easily dulled metal instead of something that could hold an edge like iron or steel. He realized the two buttons on his boots and the simple ring on his belt were also bronze. Taking a stance, Sean tried to recall his time in the fencing club in college and his year with the live steel group in the SCA.

  After a few attacks and retreats, Sean let out a soft whistle. His reaction time was faster than it had ever been before. His strikes were faster and had more strength behind them than he was used to.

  “So an improved body all around,” Sean muttered as he looked at the coloration of his skin. Same Irish coloration he was used to from his old life, “Guess that isn’t a surprise, considering who made this body.”

  “Better than I was before. Better… stronger… faster,” Sean chuckled as he started down the path towards the village. “Guess I’ll see what the people here are like.”

  As he walked, Sean wondered about the gifts that Morrigan had mentioned. As soon as the idea occurred, ethereal lettering appeared before him.

  Metal Bones-Your bones are not ordinary calcium, but Adamant and Iron. (Crafted by Goibniu.) Viney Muscles-Your musculature is built of Iron Vine, reinforced with traces of Adamant. (Crafted by Luchta.) Mithril Blood-Your blood is not the red watery stuff of normal people, but Mithril blended with Iron. (Crafted by Credne.) Magic Bond-Able to learn and wield the magic of the world. (Gift of Beag.) Mending Body-Your body will repair any damage with time and energy. (Gift of Dian Cecht.) Death Ward-Force death away if enough energy is present. (Gift of Aed.) Linguist-Know and speak every language. (Gift of Oghma.) Hunter’s Blood-Master of woodcraft. (Gift of Cernunnos.) Infinite Possibilities-Blessed to be able to learn all Talents. (Gift of Dagda.) A soft whistle escaped Sean, “Talk about blessed by the gods.”

  All I’m missing for this to be a proper game, he thought, is a character screen. As his thoughts touched upon the idea, the ethereal words morphed into a status screen. Blinking, with both brows shooting up, Sean shook his head as he looked over the new information.

  Sean Aragorn MacDougal Human

  Age: 33

  Gifts:

  Metal Bones, Viney Muscles, Mithril Blood, Magic Bond, Mending Body, Death Ward, Linguist, Hunter’s Blood, Infinite Possibilities Spells:

  Talents:

  Bonded:

  The soft breeze ruffled his short-cropped hair as he walked down the path. The weather was just touching on autumn, but Sean found himself warm despite the chill breeze. Maybe because of the crafted body I have, Sean mused internally as he strolled along, letting the late morning sun warm his skin.

  A little under an hour later, Sean approached the outskirts of the village, his steps slowing. He was sure the village had been at least five miles, but he had just walked that in about an hour, while taking his time.

  Shaking his head, Sean looked at the dozen homes that dotted either side of the dirt road. The houses were made of the same wood as the forest around them. Four women were chatting outside the largest house in the village. One of them went wide-eyed as she spotted a stranger walking through the village, pointing him out to the others. Four sets of wary eyes watched him as he approached.

  “Excuse me, ladies. I happen to be a bit lost and am looking for some directions?” Sean said.

  “If you’re here in our village, of course you’re lost. This be the arse end of nowhere,” the woman who had spotted him first said.

  “Can one of you tell me the name of this place? Maybe that’ll help me figure out where I am,” Sean said, knowing it wouldn’t help at all.

  “This is Oakwood,” one of the other women said, brushing auburn hair from her forehead.

  Sean took in the sun roughened skin and the large number of freckles the quartet had, knowing them to be of the same descent as himself. “Sadly, that doesn’t help much,” Sean sighed. “Does the village elder have a map that might help me find my path?”

  One of the women who hadn’t spoken yet chimed in, “He’s meditating at the moment. I can see if he would be willing to speak with an unnamed traveler.”

  “I apologize. I’m Sean MacDougal,” his smile was polite as he introduced himself, hoping that would help ease the wariness they all exuded.

  “You can stay right there, and I’ll go tell him about you,” the woman replied as she darted into the large house.

  “Where did you come from to end up all the way out here?” the first woman asked him with narrowing eyes.

  “I doubt you’ve heard of the small town I’m from. It’s called Waterrock,” Sean answered, keeping the same smile on his lips, though the name sounded odd as he said it. Waterrock was the literal meaning of the small desert town he had lived in, but not its name.

  “Never heard of it,” the last woman finally entered the conversation. “Which direction is it in?” The last question provoked intense stares from the trio of women.

  “I’m not currently sure,” Sean shrugged, “but I’m sure I’ll have that figured out if I see a map.”

  The fourth woman exited the house, leaving the door open behind her, “He says he’ll see you.”

  Sean didn’t move. “Thank you, miss. If you will all excuse me.” Motioning to the side of the door, he tried to make it clear they were in the way.

  Stepping aside, the quartet of women watched him as he entered the home, mutters starting up behind him as he shut the door. Well I’m no fantasy story protagonist, obviously, or they would’ve all been throwing themselves at me, Sean chuckled to himself.

  Chapter Three

  The interior of the home was as plain as the exterior. The wooden floors and walls were barren of everything except for one small rug in the middle of the room, upon which sat the sole occupant.

  The room he’d entered had two doorways leading off. Both doorways were open; in one room, Sean could make out a bed and in the other a fireplace, which hinted at a kitchen.

  Sean examined the older man for a moment. His grey hair still had bits of red visible in it here and there, and his thick beard was bushy, but obviously kept from going completely wild. Wide shoulders that were just starting to hunch told of a powerful man who was reaching the end of a long life. Various scars marred the bare torso of the man, who sat with his eyes closed. Tattoos of intricate scrollwork in blue adorned his arms, still heavy with muscle, from shoulder to wrist.

  “Excuse me, sir, I was hoping you might help me find my way,” Sean said.

  “Traveler, welcome to my home. Please take a seat,” the older man said as his eyes opened to reveal white, sightless orbs.

 
Sean’s steps faltered when he realized the man was blind, but he took the spot a few feet in front of the man, sitting down. “My name is Sean MacDougal, sir.”

  “My granddaughter told me. You may call me Darragh. What brings a wanderer to our humble village?”

  “I’m lost,” Sean stated simply.

  “That is a given, we are the furthest village to the south of the Quadital,” Darragh gave a tight smile. “Would you like some tea while we help you find your way?”

  “Sure,” Sean replied.

  “Misa, tea for two,” Darragh said.

  At Darragh’s words, the sound of rasping scales came from behind Sean, causing him to look around. In the doorway of the kitchen, a strange being stood balanced upon its tail. It had the body of a large serpent, a pair of arms sprouted at what would be its torso. The three-fingered hands were laced together at its front. The face was definitely that of a serpent, but the eyes glowed with intelligence. “Orange, massster?” The ‘s’ was elongated nearly into a hiss.

  “Will orange suffice, MacDougal?” Darragh asked Sean.

  “Err… yeah, orange tea is fine,” Sean stammered.

  “I will make,” Misa said, the words formal. Turning, the serpent slithered out of the doorway while maintaining its upright position.

  “That was your first time seeing one of the Lesser Naga?”

  “Uh, yeah,” Sean said as he pulled his eyes back to the man across from him.

  “They are rare as Bonded,” a ghost of a smile flitted across Darragh’s face. “She has made me very grateful to have agreed to our Bond. She makes my last few years easier.”

  “Bonded?” Sean asked without thinking.

  A thoughtful look crossed Darragh’s features. “Hmm, yes. Bonded. Could it be that…” Darragh trailed off, lost in thought.

  Sean didn’t want to press him for an explanation, realizing that he might be giving away his outsider status by his ignorance. The silence stretched for a couple minutes before Darragh shook his head.