JSL6416@ACS.TAMU.EDU

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                          Prologue
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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)

                    Formula  119  presents...
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                 LARGO : RED EYES AND WHITE FANGS
             A Bubblegum Crisis / Ravenloft Crossover

                         By  Benares

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Ravenloft is the property of TSR inc.
Largo and the Bubblegum Crisis/Crash universe come form the mind
of Kenichi Sonoda and the folks at AIC, Youmex, and Toshiba Emi


                         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...
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
                        End  -  Part  One
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

                    Formula  119  presents...
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

              LARGO  :  RED  EYES  AND  WHITE  FANGS
            A  Bubblegum  Crisis / Ravenloft  Crossover

                          By  Benares

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

                           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...
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
                         End  -  Part  Two
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

                    Formula  119  presents...
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

              LARGO : RED  EYES  AND  WHITE  FANGS
           A  Bubblegum  Crisis / Ravenloft  Crossover

                         By  Benares

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
                         Part  Three
Emile walks down the crowded streets of Kantora.  She looks for
anyone with a head of gray hair, but her only successes are dusty
old men.  The crowds are beginning to get to her; she's just a
farm girl, she's not used to such large cities.  And a city like
Kantora isn't exactly a vacation spot...  Even during the
harshest times Kellee's inhabitants haven't been buried in such a
cesspool of filth.  The people in Kellee could usually count on
one another for aid, but this city, even with all its people,
stinks of sickness and poverty.  And on top of all this, she's
gotten lost in the streets.  The crowds are moving in a thousand
different ways, confusing her sense of direction. Emile grows
desperate for some air and spots a side street.  A little
slipping and sliding between the masses and she's out of the mob.
Oh, it feels good to be able to breathe again, although the smell
of trash still makes it difficult.  Emile looks around.  The
alleyway continues on to another street at the opposite side.
Emile goes down the alleyway, then follows the street.  Oh great
, it splits off into another set of small back streets.  Emile
chooses one and travels down it, then another, and another...
After twenty minutes of this she sees that she is hopelessly
lost, and unlike before there is no one around, just a few rats
scurrying through the gutters.  It's becoming darker, she must
find a safe place to stay.  After wandering a little more Emile
finds a small inn.  Perhaps the proprietor can give her
directions, or maybe he has even seen Largo.  Emile checks her
purse.  She should have enough to take care of herself for a
couple of days.  Why couldn't she have waited for Largo to
return?  He said he would... no, he said he MIGHT.  It was the
first time she had fallen in love, how was she to know how silly
it was for her to run off like that after him?  She was surprised
that he took the direct route, and became extremely worried when
she saw his crutches and satchel discarded in the woods.  But she
has had a little experience in tracking, and she was able to keep
up with him.  It got difficult when she crossed Tepest's borders
into Nova Vaasa, the change in terrain truly made following him
an arduous task.  She must really be in love, even to venture
without stopping overnight and alone in a foreign land.  She
thanked the heavens that nothing had happened to her during the
journey, save the scare she had when she came across the
mutilated bodies of the plains cats, but ever since she entered
Kantora three hours ago she was presented with the new problem of
locating him.  Her tracking skills were limited to finding lost
farm animals, and since Largo made no effort to cover his tracks
it was quite easy to head in the right direction.  But in a city
she was completely misguided, not to mention totally out of her
element.  Now she is lost, her father is probably worried sick,
and on top of it all she has no idea where to find the man she
adores.  Emile walks into the inn and talks to the innkeeper, a
round little man with the face of a weasel.  He has never seen
Largo, although he says he will keep his eyes open.  Emile thanks
him and rents a room for the night.  She walks down the hall and
locks the door behind her, then after eating some of her rations
she undresses and goes to sleep.

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...
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
                       End  -  Part  Three
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

                      Formula  119  presents...
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

               LARGO  :  RED  EYES  AND  WHITE  FANGS
             A  Bubblegum  Crisis / Ravenloft  Crossover

                            By  Benares

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

                            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 expensive-looking tapestries.  Largo takes a close
look at the coffin.

             "Here lies Count Strahd von Zarovich, passed
              away in the year 351 of the modern calendar.
            May the gods have mercy on this soldier's soul."

Largo : So, Strahd, I have finally found you.

Largo opens the coffin and sees what he expected, a dead body,
devoid of life.  The remains of Strahd von Zarovich have stood
the test of time well.  While the stench of a corpse surrounds
him his body is pale and bloodless, yet amazingly undecayed, and
an infrared scan clearly shows a deep blue hue, final proof that
the Devil Strahd has long been cold and will remain that way
forever.  Funny, although Strahd has many portraits of himself
within his castle walls none of them showed his pointy ears.
Perhaps it was a disfigurement he was embarrassed of and he
wanted it hidden from society.  Largo moves the limp head about.
Strange, even the body is completely clean.  The clothing has
been recently washed as well.  As Largo inspects the head he
notices something protruding from the upper lip.  He moves the
lip upward and is surprised at how large the man's incisors are.
Enough scrutinizing of the dead.  Largo closes back up the
coffin.  At least he knows someone is here now, some kind of
"crypt-keeper" as it were, who maintains the burial grounds and
has been doing so for quite sometime, although since Largo
doesn't know the current calendar year for the land of Barovia he
can't say.  Largo spends the rest of the day looking about for
the keeper of the dead, but his efforts prove fruitless.  Even
though the catacombs have been maintained and clean they, like
the castle levels, are devoid of life.  Perhaps the person comes
to Castle Ravenloft at the end of the day.  Since Barovians have
obvious fear of the dark this person would have to make it into
the castle grounds before sundown... which Largo notices on his
chronometer should be rather soon.  Largo makes his way back to
the surface and heads for the castle entrance, then finds an
adequate place behind an old marble pillar to wait in hiding.
After half-an-hour the sun begins its descent behind the spires
of rock, but no one comes to the castle.  The sun continues to
set, and set, and set, until finally it is gone altogether, a
blood-red hue draped across the new night sky, slowly turning to
a deep purple and eventually to a navy blue.  Largo emerges from
his hiding place and looks annoyed.  Great, nobody came.  Largo
walks up the castle wall and jumps up to one of its banisters,
casting a long glance over the valley.  The village of Barovia is
sealed tight, nobody walking along the dark streets, although
there are lights coming from behind the boarded windows.  The
forests seem to be bristling with life, and Largo can hear the
baying of wolves in the distance.  The air gets colder and the
winds pick up.  Largo looks out across the horizon with
long-distance ultra-violet, and from about eight miles over the
fog he can see the old man's house.  Largo switches to visible
spectrum and with telescopic vision he sees that the windows and
doors have been replaced to both the barn and the house.  There
is a faint trail of smoke coming from its chimeny.  Nothing left
to concern him, then.  He will return to the house tomorrow to
pick up Emile, return to Tepest and drop her off in Kellee, then
go in search of the second piece of the puzzle, Azalin.  If this
man is just as dead as his partner then he will return to Castle
Ravenloft, set up a base of operations, and mine the materials
neccessary to create a satellite hookup, spending the next few
weeks in the catacombs...

Wait.  Largo hears something.  It sounds like some kind of
gutteral moan, raspy and from the back of the throat.  And it
sounds like it's coming from the castle grounds.  Largo looks
down using infrared and sees nothing.  He jumps down from the
castle wall and looks around, but there's nothing here.  Yet he
can still hear the moans.  And they've been accompanied by some
kind of clacking sound, as though something is walking along the
upturned stones of the ground.  And they're getting louder, as
though they are headed in his direction.  Largo hasn't got a clue
what is happening around him, so he changes his vision from
infrared to night-vision... And sees that he is standing amidst
what could only be described as twenty or thirty walking corpses.
It's incredible, no vital signs, no brain activity, no body heat,
and yet they are moving.  And they are moving towards him,
looking very hungry.

Largo (to the group) : Hmph, if you are as "dangerous" as your
skeletal counterparts I will finish you off without a second
thought.

[MAIN UNIT IS AT COMBAT READINESS LEVEL FIVE]

STILL level five?  He's going to have to work on improving his
repair system's efficiency.  Until he reaches level four he won't
be able to produce energy or kinetic blasts, so this will take a
little longer than he anticipates.  He will have to worry about
that later, though.  The zombies are on top of him in a second.
Largo grabs one by the arm and swings him around, knocking back
his companions.  Suddenly the zombie he is holding tears apart by
the arm and slides across the ground until he hits the wall, then
slowly begins to get back up and rejoin his group in the attack.
Largo is quickly buried in a pile of undead, all of which are
trying to bite at him or hit him with powerful fists. The damage
they are causing is negligable, but Largo doesn't feel like
spending the night under a bunch of moving corpses.  He makes a
powerful vertical leap through the drones of monsters and
deactivates human mask systems as he comes down.  At the sight of
a pair of glowing red eyes and a metallic body the zombies do
stop in their tracks for a second, wondering what this new threat
might be and where their human meal went, then decide food is
food and make a charge for Largo.  This time he's ready for them
and plows into the oncoming monsters with both arms, tearing
through them like tissue paper.  Arms and heads fly everywhere,
and when Largo is done all of the undead appear to be done for.
Suddenly a dismembered arm from the pile takes a hold of Largo's
legs, then more seperated body parts join in, until Largo is
forced to the ground.  A decapitated head lying next to him jeers
and rolls over to his arm, biting on with all its might.
Unfortunately for it, Largo's arm proves too tough and the head's
teeth crack under the pressure.  Largo is having a hard time
getting up, though, for he is pinned by scores of arms, and newly
arriving zombies are making their way to him.  If enough of them
attack him they might be able to force open his body armor, and
his insides are not so well protected.  Check diagnostic systems.
How far along are repairs to combat systems?

[COMBAT SYSTEMS ARE FIFTY-NINE PERCENT COMPLETED.  MAIN UNIT IS
AT COMBAT READINESS LEVEL FIVE]

Allocate emergency power to repairs.  Divert all none-essential
systems to combat systems.

[COMBAT SYSTEMS ARE SIXTY PERCENT COMPLETED. MAIN UNIT IS AT
COMBAT READINESS LEVEL FOUR.  WARNING : SENSORY SYSTEMS (VISUAL)
HAVE BEEN TAKEN OFF-LINE TO ALLOCATE POWER TO REPAIRS.  SENSORY
SYSTEMS (VISUAL) WILL RETURN ON-LINE WHEN EMERGENCY POWER IS SHUT
DOWN]

The world goes black for Largo.  That's okay, he just has to
choose a horizontal direction and FIRE.  All around him Largo can
hear the sounds of sizzling flesh and energy tearing apart the
hordes of zombies.  The air about him smells slightly fresher and
there's considerably less pressure on his body; apparently he has
cleared them off of him.  Largo stands up.  He's not sure how
many he has been able to stop, but he keeps firing anyway.  Yes,
there are more.  The sounds of shattering bones and bodies
slamming against the stone walls can be heard quite clearly.
Largo hears a gutteral sound next to his ear and punches in that
direction, his fist ripping a zombie in two.  But the deep
moaning continues to grow stronger.  It seems more undead are
arriving on the battle scene.  Largo prepares to unleash some
more plasma bursts in their direction when...

Voice (in a commanding tone) : STOP!

The moaning does indeed stop.  The shout seems to have come from
the direction of the high tower he was on earlier in the day.
Largo looks around but his vision has not yet returned.  The
zombies are still there, he can hear the shuffling of their feet,
but they aren't moving to attack.

[EMERGENCY POWER SHUT DOWN.  NOW RETURNING SENSORY SYSTEMS
(VISUAL) ON-LINE]

Largo looks in the direction of the tower.  The world slowly
focuses back into shape.  The person at the tower top is still
hard to see, but whoever he is he's wearing the black clothing of
nobility and a large red ruby around his neck on a gold chain.
His black cape is flowing behind him in the wind.  Largo's eyes
finally reach full visual accruity, and once again the buma is at
a loss for words.  The man standing at the tower looking down on
him is in his forties, his face lined, probably from years of
combat.  His hair is jet black with streaks of gray and is
slicked back.  His skin is amazingly pale and from his smile
Largo can see a sharp pair of fangs.  The man looks down at him
with a pair of sinister red eyes.  Largo stares for a second, him
mouth slightly ajar.  Then his expression changes to one of
humor, for he has met this man before and never even suspected...

Man : Welcome to my humble abode, Largo.
Largo (in amusement) : Strahd.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
                        End  -  Part  Four
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

                     Formula  119  presents...
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

                LARGO : RED  EYES  AND  WHITE  FANGS
              A Bubblegum Crisis / Ravenloft Crossover

                           By  Benares

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

                           Part  Five
The two superpowers look at each other in the darkness of the
night.  The moon has not yet risen, but something about them
makes each clearly visible in the darkness.  Perhaps it is the
glow of power around each.  Maybe it's their shining red eyes.
Largo stands crossarmed and smiling amusedly, looking at the
owner of Castle Ravenloft, Count Strahd von Zarovich, lord of
Barovia.  Surrounding him are drones of mindless zombies, stayed
by a single word from the pale man. Strahd, looking down on the
scene from his high tower, is smiling back his sinister smile,
his fangs hanging over his lower lip.

Largo : You know of me.
Strahd : It is hard to hide secrets from me in my own land,
Largo.  The Vistani keep me informed on all fronts.  I knew about
you the day Madame Deniza started having visions.  It's a shame
she hadn't been able to see that you would visit my humble home,
I would have tidied up.
Largo : Do you know why I have come, then?
Strahd (putting up a hand) : I think it unwise to spend the
evening shouting back and forth.  Please, enter.  My servants
will see to your clothing and whatever needs you may have.

With that Strahd's body loses coporeality and becomes mist,
disappearing through the cracks of the castle wall.  Largo feels
an intense awe at the power Strahd has, although his face shows
nothing but calmness and control.  Largo looks at himself.  The
zombies' attack didn't cause him any bodily harm, but what he
wears is nothing more than torn and shredded rags.  The main
doors open before Largo and ghost of some sort flows through the
entrance.  Once again Largo feels awed and almost scared by all
this.  The ghost rises up to him and says nothing, but just waves
her translucent finger, indicating she wants him to follow.
Largo enters behind her into the great hall, the doors closing
behind him on their own.  She leads him up long flight of stairs,
the torches on the side of the wall lighting by themselves as he
approaches.  Apparently Strahd doesn't know everything about
Largo or he would know that he doesn't need light to see.  The
spectre leads him to a door at the top of the stairs, opens the
door, and then vanishes from sight.  Out of curiosity Largo gives
a quick full-spectrum where she had been and detects absolutely
nothing.  She couldn't have been a hologram, there would have
been SOME sort of residual energy trace left behind.  More
"magic", then.  Largo enters the room, a guest room he had seen
before but hadn't given a thorough search on.  Apparently it
wasn't nearly thorough enough; the room is completely dust-free
now, something he hadn't seen at all in any of the castle levels.
Largo opens the closet doors and sees a choice of clothing.  Most
of it is flamoyant, looking much like the gaudy clothes of the
medieval courts.  Largo contniues to rummage through the
selection until he comes to an appropriate choice.  It isn't
exactly what he used to wear in MegaTokyo, but it's close
enough... A pair of black slacks, shining black dress shoes, and
a black shirt with a raised collar trimmed with gold lining.
Largo discards his peasant's clothes and redresses, maintaining
his cybernetic look for the sake of appearances.  He looks for a
mirror to check himself in, but finds that most of the mirrors in
the room have been destroyed.  He is able to find a hand mirror
in one of the cabinets and fixes his hair.  Once Largo steps out
of the room the ghost maiden is there to lead him back down.
Largo follows her back down the stairway, then down a hallway and
into a large library.  Largo shakes his head; when he came here
before the room was chained shut.  He never thought about
openning it at the time.  Now he wished he had searched the
castle more thoroughly.  This library is huge to say the least.
It is beautifully decorated, books lining all of its vast
shelves.  A large oak table sits in the middle of the floor, and
masterpieces adorn the walls left and right.  In the far end of
the room is a large painting, but its contents are sealed off by
a white slik tarp.  Strahd is standing at the far end of the
table and gestures for Largo to sit down.  Largo does so, and the
candlesticks on the table centerpiece light up on their own.
Strahd claps his hands twice and an old man enters the room.  No,
the absent look, the whithered skin... This man had to be in his
twenties, or rather WAS in his twenties before his death.  Now he
was merely a mindless servant for von Zarovich.

Strahd : Bring us some refreshments.  I shall have my usual.  Is
there anything specific you desire?
Largo : A red wine would be acceptable.
Strahd : Bring him a red wine.  Go.

The zombie clumsily bows, then leaves the room.  Strahd is
scrutinizing Largo from his side of the table.  Obviously he is
very curious about his guest.  Largo is feeling much the same,
but he has already given Strahd the once-over.

Strahd : I believe you are familiar with the Mists.
Largo : Yes.  How much about me DO you know?
Strahd (smiling) : I am wise enough not to say.  But I speculated
the Mists' involvement on my own for I have had personal
experience with them.  The Mists have a tendency to drag people
here with little warning.
Largo : And you claim the Vistani knew of my "abduction" in
advance...
Strahd : They are a very powerful people, and their connection
with the Mists extends beyond even MY full understanding.

Largo scans Strahd while he talks.  This is impossible, there is
absolutely no way he should be talking or even moving.  No
cybernetics.  No body heat. No evidence of external control.  Yet
for some reason there is brain activity, albeit highly unusual
brain activity.  Largo looks over the room quickly.  No
electrical activity. No radio signals of any sort.  There has to
be some reason!  Strahd notices Largo's glances about the
library.

Strahd : You are curious about something... May I ask about what?
Largo : You.
Strahd (amusedly) : Ah, you wish to know how a dead man can be
sitting before you. (scratches his chin) How to explain... You
will have to forgive me, most of the people I have met before are
at least familiar with the concept.
Largo : I certainly hope you are not going to tell me you are a
vampire or some other such nonsense.
Strahd (looking surprised) : You ARE familiar with the concept.
Strange, Madame Deniza had informed me that such creatures do not
exist in your world.
Largo : They do not.  They are merely the products of old
fiction, stories told in the hopes of frightening people.
Strahd : Well, as you can see I am quite real.
Largo : That is still a matter of debate.  But since I am left
without any other evidence I suppose I have no choice but to
accept your claim at the moment.
Strahd : I, however, have never even heard of a being such as
yourself.  I sense no life from you, either, yet for some reason
I do not feel as though you are one of the walking dead.
Largo : I am a buma, a living machine.  There are many more like
myself, but I am the epitome of buma technology, and hold
rightful claim as their leader.
Strahd : A living MACHINE?
Largo : No more absurd than a walking dead man.
Strahd : Incredible... You are some form of mechanical golem,
then?
Largo (taken aback by such a primitive term) : Golem?  I suppose
you could say that...
Strahd : I would be curious to learn of the magics that created
you.
Largo (to himself) : As I am curious to learn of the sciences
that fashioned you, my friend...

The zombie returns with a metal platter holding two ornate wine
glasses.  Both are holding red liquid, although one seems much
thicker than the other.  Blood, perhaps?  Not all that
surprising; many older buma models such as the sexaroid line
required a human blood supply to function.  Largo is not at all
convinced by Strahd's claim to vampirism.  For all he knows he
might be a buma with an incredible cloaking system.  Then what of
Strahd's dead servants?  Hmph, a good "magician" never reveals
his secrets, and this is as good a magic show as Largo has ever
seen.  The zombie hands Largo his glass.

Largo (thinking as he drinks) : I will find what makes you tick,
von Zarovich.  Before I leave this absurd land your little
charade will be uncovered.

Strahd finishes half of his glass and sets it down, looking at
Largo some more.  Apparently he is equally as skeptical about
Largo, but his skepticism does not concern the buma.  Largo sees
the tarp-covered painting once more.

Largo : What is that?
Strahd : Oh, the painting. (gets up and walks to it) It is the
portrait of my lost love, Tatyana.  It is in need of restoration,
so I have covered it to protect it from the elements.

Strahd pulls the tarp off to show his love to the world.  At
first Largo is merely annoyed at being used as a shoulder to cry
on.  Why should he care who Strahd has lost over the years?  But
when the tarp has fallen to the ground Largo has become quite
surprised.  The painting portrays a woman of stunning beauty;
long, flowing brown hair, incredible piercing green eyes, a face
that would be the desire of every man and the envy of every
woman...

Largo (to himself) : Emile...

Strahd (misunderstanding Largo's awe) : Yes, she is quite
beautiful, is she not? (Strahd's tone becomes sad) I lost her
many years ago to an... unfortunate accident.  Her reincarnation
has appeared many times over the years, but I have been unable to
fully claim her love.  This accursed land finds some way of
taking her from me, be it a sickness or an accident or a murder,
yet one day I will find a way of overcoming the curse which has
befallen me and claim my love once and for all.

Interesting.  Largo has a card in his deck he was once prepared
to throw away and now has quite a good use for.  Something was
not right here, though.  Emile was only twenty, yet this picture
had to be centuries old.  A descendant, perhaps?  Whatever the
case, if he could convince Strahd he had this Tatyana he would
have quite a bargaining chip indeed.  Time to get down to
business.

Largo : How do I leave this damnable land?
Strahd (amused) : Leave?  My friend, there is little hope of
escape from this place.  Hell knows I've tried on many
occassions, but the land always seems to pull me back in.
Largo : What of the Grand Conjunction Madame Deniza mentioned?
Could such an event be duplicated?
Strahd (flinching at the mention of the Grand Conjuction) : No,
for the components needed to trigger it have been lost outside
the boundaries of the land making them impossible to recover.
Largo : Then you know of no other escape routes?
Strahd (gets an evil glint in his eye.  Largo knows he's about to
spring something) : Maybe not... or perhaps I might know more
than I will say.  However I see little reason to share such
information.
Largo : What reason do you have not to be cooperative?
Strahd : Becuase there is nothing you can grant me in exchange
for the information.
Largo : What prevents me from simply toturing you until I get
that which I seek?
Strahd : A great number of things you are not aware of as yet.
Do you wish to test THAT claim?

True.  Largo has no idea what defenses Strahd may have up his
sleeve.  If he can hide his true nature from him so perfectly
then there is no telling what else he may be hiding.  It's time
for Largo to show his hand.

Largo (stands) : Then my time here is finished.  I suppose I
should just find a pleasant little country cottage to spend the
remainder of my days.
Strahd : Sounds like a good idea.  I suggest you move to
somewhere OUTSIDE of Barovia.
Largo (slowly walking out the door) : Maybe I should take a wife.
Hmm, who would be a good choice?  I suppose I will have to make
due with the first woman I have met here.
Strahd (becoming annoyed) : What are you babbling about?
Largo (looking at Strahd over his shoulder) : That's right, you
know nothing about her.  How could I describe her?  She's so
incredibly beautiful.  I SUPPOSE you could say she looks
something like your Tatyana.  No, come to think about it, she
looks EXACTLY like your little Tatyana (smiles slyly)...

At this Strahd leaps over the table and grabs Largo by the neck.
Largo is still smiling, but Strahd has bared his fangs and
appears infuriated, his eyes glowing an even brighter shade of
red and saliva dripping from his teeth.

Strahd : Do not play games with me, boy!  I will tear off your
head if you are taunting me!!

Largo takes a hold of Strahd's arm and, much to Strahd's
surprise, slowly removes his grip with no effort.  Largo
increases pressure to his grip in an attempt to crush Strahd's
arm, but Strahd holds his ground, not minding the intense
pressure.  This man is indeed made of sterner stuff than most.

Largo : On the contrary, I am being quite sincere.  I know where
the latest incarnation of your Tatyana is, von Zarovich.
Strahd (desperate) : WHERE?!  Tell me or you will suffer greatly!
Largo : Do tell... I see little threat of that, but I will make
you a deal anyway.
Strahd (calming down) : You desire information regarding escape
in exchange for Tatyana...
Largo (releasing Strahd) : Precisely.
Strahd : Very well.  Bring her here, and I will send you where
you need to go.
Largo : I am no fool, Strahd.  Tell me what I want, THEN I will
bring her to you.
Strahd : I have no more reason to trust you than you do me.  It
appears we are at a standstill.
Largo : On the contrary, I can always seek out a method of escape
through other sources; as you said, I will have a lot of time on
my hands.  You, however, will be hard pressed to find another
Tatyana.
Strahd (seething with fury, but doing his best to hold it in) :
Damn you, Largo... Go to Darkon and seek out Castle Avernus, home
of the mage Azalin.  My informants tell me that a servant of his
has been developing a plan to escape this land using a device
called a rift spanner and is nearing success.
Largo (performing a mock bow) : Thank you so very much, Strahd.
You have been a gracious host. (leaves the room laughing loudly)
Strahd (under his breath) : Fortunately you are ignorant about a
great many things, golem.  Now that I know Tatyana lives once
again I will do everything in my power to bring her back to me.
Meanwhile, you will be confronting one of the most powerful
darklords in these realms, and he will either destroy you or you
will destroy him and become trapped within the borders of Darkon
as its new lord.

The portcullis opens for Largo as he steps out of the castle
boundaries and looks into the clear night sky.  The moon is
shining brightly, a few wispy clouds hanging about in the
blackness.  As he steps onto the rotting drawbridge the gateway
closes behind him with a dull thud.  Largo looks back at the
castle, seeing the skeletal night guard take their positions upon
the bannisters and castle walls, mindlessly marching to protect
their lord and his home.  A dim orange candlelight can be seen in
the high tower's open window, the dark silhouette of Largo's
former host standing against the low flicker of light intently
watching him.  Largo turns back towards the steep road and makes
his way down, the moonlight lightly reflecting off of his body as
he hikes across the treacherous terrain towards the village of
Barovia.

Emile wakes to the sound of knocking on the house door.  She
looks about but the room is still dark, the faint rays of
moonlight piercing throught the cracks in the borded window.
Emile gets up and stumbles about trying to locate the door, which
she finds after much exertion.  She peers through the small
peephole, but it is too dark outside.  All she can see are the
glimmer of two red eyes looking back at her.

Emile : L-Largo?
Largo : Open the door, Emile.  We must leave at once.

Emile quickly unbolts the door and opens it up.  Largo walks in
the house, human form restored.  The old man has woken up and is
lighting a small lamp.

Old man : Are you mad, young woman?  You should NEVER open the
door to anyone at this time of night! (eyes Largo) Nice clothing,
son, it must have cost a lot.  Did you find who you were looking
for?
Largo : I did.  He proved very... helpful.  Emile, get dressed
and pack some supplies.  We are leaving immediately.
Old man : Now?!  It's still dark out!
Largo (looks at the old man) : Do you have a problem with us
leaving?
The old man staggers back in terror.  Largo's eyes are glowing a
bright red.  The old man fumbles around on his bed and pulls out
a holy symbol from under his pillow, making a futile attempt to
turn Largo away.  Largo merely smiles and looks back at Emile.

Largo : Go to his pantry and take what you need.  Do not pack
heavily. Then go through his closet and take warm clothing.  If
you can find a map bring it to me.
Emile : B-but...
Largo : Do it!  We do not have much time! (Emile reluctantly nods
and goes into the pantry)
Old man : No!  What are you doing, thief?! (Largo looks back at
the old man, who cringes)
Largo : Thief?  I have saved your life, old man.  You owe me that
at the very least, but I am merely taking some food and clothing
for my companion.  Be thankful I do not take more.

Emile comes out with a small green bag with a canteen tied to its
side.  She rummages through the closet and takes an old coat.

Largo : No, that is not warm enough.  Take the heavy coat next to
it.  Then remove your dress and put on a pair of cotton pants as
well as a pair of mountain boots.

Emile puts back the old coat, then grabs the clothing Largo
instructed her to take.  She stops for a second, looking at the
old man and Largo slightly embarrassed.  Largo looks amused for a
second, then takes the old man by the head and turns him around.
Emile undresses and puts on the warmer clothing, then grabs a
short rope and makes a makeshift belt.  She hands Largo a small
stack of brittle maps she has found in a desk of drawers.  Largo
looks at each one quickly, memorizing them for future use, then
tosses them aside and looks at Emile to make sure she is ready to
go.  Although the clothing is somewhat baggy is should be
appropriate.  Largo quickly grabs a wool hat out of the closet
and stuffs it in one of her pockets, then begins to head out with
her.

Largo (looking back to the old man, eyes returned to normal gray)
: Thank you for your hospitality, but we must be off.  I suggest
you hold on to that religious symbol of yours, you are probably
going to need it soon.  Goodbye.

Largo steps out of the house.  For a second Emile looks at the
old man worriedly, then looks at Largo.  She begins to follow
him, then stops by the old man and tries to say something, but
she cannot.  All she can do is look at him with sorrow in her
eyes.  The old man, who has to this point been looking at Largo
with utter astonishment, stares into her eyes and gives her a
warm smile.

Old man : Don't worry about me, dear.  I've been taking care of
myself for quite some time.  Watch out for yourself, though.
This man is not all what he seems.
Emile (softly) : I know...

She kisses him on the cheek, then walks out of the door after the
man she loves.  Largo is standing there waiting, the breeze
picking up as he motions for her to come to him.  She does, and
Largo easily picks her up within his arms.  With a quick kick of
the legs he and Emile are gone, grass tearing up behind them as
they move at full speed for the Barovian border...

Twenty miles later Largo digs his heels into the ground, breaking
to a full stop.  Emile, her head burried in Largo's shirt to
protect it from the chilling blast of wind, looks up to see why
they had stopped. Before them lies a great cloud of fog, exactly
the same as the one Largo encountered surrounding the village of
Barovia.

Emlie : Why have we stopped?
Largo (sets Emile down) : Wait here, I must test something.

Emile stands still as Largo walks into the fog bank.  Yet another
anomalous fog bank, just like the one surrounding the village of
Barovia... Wait, something is happenning.  So, this is the danger
of the poisonous wall of fog.  Apparently whatever makes up this
fog is trying to contrict his circulator and respiratory systems.
Largo walks deeper into the dense cloud.  The constriction is
increasing.  Largo walks back towards Barovia, and the
constriction eases off.  An intriguing way of closing off the
borders.  No human can leave Barovia or they will surely die of
asphyxiation in a matter of seconds after crossing into the
neighboring realm.  Fortunately for Largo he has no need to
breathe so the effects would be unnoticable to him.  But how will
he get Emile across the borders?  Strahd had obviously thought
this through; although Largo would be able to leave Barovia Emile
would have to stay behind where she could be picked up by the
"vampire" at his convenience.  No way, Largo has no intention of
letting go of his high card until after his lead on Azalin comes
through.  Largo steps out of the fog.

Emile : What is it?
Largo : Some form of poison.  I'll have to think of a way to get
you through.

Largo looks at the gigantic cloud of vapor that stands before
him.  It's to high to jump over.  Maybe he could throw her over,
catch her on the other side as she comes down.  No, the force
needed to throw her might injure her.  Then his only choice is to
run; unfortunately the fog can be absorbed through the skin as
well.  Then the best he can hope to do is get her through it
before it has a chance to take a strong enough hold of her body
systems to do significant harm... Largo removes his jacket and
walks up to Emile.

Largo : Emile, I want you to hold your breath until I tell you
that you can breathe.
Emile : What are you--Mmph!
Largo : I said hold your breath.  And don't move.

Largo wraps his jacket tightly around Emile's head and lifts her
up in one arm.  Emile is staying still and not breathing as per
instructed.  The barrier of cloth will hold off some of the fog,
but not for more than a few seconds.  Largo looks ahead, primes
himself, and then plunges into the dense cloud of poison.

Old man : PLEASE!!  I told you everything I can!!

The view has changed back to the old man's house, or rather
what's left of it.  Two of the walls have been torn down and the
front door is broken inward.  An earth elemental is aimlessly
wandering about outside, looking for something else to destroy
other than a rundown little farmhouse. Inside the demolished
house the old man is being held a foot off the floor by the
throat, weeping while trying desperately to undo the strong, pale
fingers that hold him.  Strahd looks at the old man, intent on
making sure he is not being given a bum story.

Strahd (in a calm voice that cuts as sharp as a blade) : You know
who I am, my old friend, and as such you know I find liars in
great distaste.  This man that I seek is quite charismatic, and
it would pain me if I learned that you are trying to protect him.
Old man : All he took were clothes, food and maps!  Left twenty
minutes ago!  Honest!
Strahd (his calm face begin to contort) : Dammit!!  Just a little
bit sooner!!  She was almost in my GRASP!! GRRAAAAHH!!!

In a fit of anger Strahd throws the old man to the ground.  Too
scared to notice the pain in his shoulder the old man backs
himself to the wall, shivering with terror.  Strahd makes for the
door, then stops and turns around, eyes blazing like hot
charcoal.

Strahd : If you are lying to me I swear by my own grave I will
return and show you torture no human has ever even concieved
of... Are we clear on this matter?

The old man does his best to nod.  Strahd storms out the door,
waving his hand in an arcane pattern at the earth elemental as he
walks by it.  The earth elemental immediately disperses,
crumbling into a pile of ordinary rock.  Strahd looks at the sky
and sees that the sun will rise within the hour; there's no way
he can reach his borders by then. From all the corners of Barovia
animals of the dark, wolves, owls, bats, look up and listen with
fear as Strahd lets out a howl of utter fury into the slowly
ending night.  Largo and Tatyana have escaped his grasp.

Emile is gagging, trying to breathe in as much air as she can
with her constricted lungs.  Largo is over her, feeling for any
signs of trauma.  It only took him five seconds to cross the
border into Borca, but it only took three seconds for the fog to
penetrate Emile's clothing and skin.  Largo isn't sure exactly
how much exposure is required to kill, but since she isn't dead
yet after thirty minutes he assumes that the poison hasn't taken
enough of a hold of her to do its job in full.  A quick scan of
her body shows that she will be experiencing asthma-like pain for
a few more hours, but at least her condition is improving, albeit
slowly.  The sun is rising over the horizon, brightly lighting
the green, rugged valleys, lush vegetation growing wildly all
about.  So, what shall he do with her now?  He can take her back
to Kellee and drop her off with her father until he returns.  But
he doesn't know how far Strahd's influence reaches; he could
snatch her up while Largo was searching for Azalin.  Take her
with him to Darkon?  She would be under his constant protection,
but there's also a high probability that she would be dangerously
in his way.  He has to insure her safety until he is certain
Strahd has stayed true to his word... Largo makes his choice.

Largo : Emile, can you talk?
Emile (between gasps) : Lgghhh-<cough>-Llggho... Yy-yess
<wheeze>...
Largo : Emile, we are going to have to make a long journey.  The
next few days are going to be hard on you, but you must make it
if you want us to stay safe.  Do you understand?

Emile conveys her understanding in a nod.  His choice is clear.
He must watch her as much as possible and contend with any
threats to her or himself personally.  Largo lifts her up in both
his arms and heads due north for Darkon.

Five hours have passed.  Largo has restricted himself to walking
so as to keep Emile from feeling undue stress.  Her breathing has
greatly improved, but she still has a ways to go.  The lack of
oxygen has left her weak and sent her into random hallucinations,
mumbling about strange monsters and dancing lights.  Largo has
given her a mild electrical shock to keep her "sedated" until he
sees more improvement in her breathing, which should be within
the next couple of hours.  Largo looks about the valleys around
them.  The thickness of vegetation has reduced somewhat since
they began north, improving Largo's travelling speed a little,
but at this rate they've still got a lot of distance to cover.
Largo finds an open grove in the trees and sets Emile down, then
runs a quick diagnostic scan over her.  Nothing beyond the
expected.  Largo checks his own diagnostics.

[COMBAT SYSTEMS AT SIXTY-FOUR PERCENT COMPLETION.  POWER CELLS AT
NINETY PERCENT COMPLETION.  ALL SECONDARY SYSTEMS ARE FUNCTIONING
AT 100 PERCENT]

Have any computer networking signals been detected in the last
twenty-four hours?

[NEGATIVE.  NO ELECTRICAL SIGNALS HAVE BEEN DETECTED.  NO
ISO-COHERENT RESONANCE HAS BEEN DETECTED.  NO NETWORKING
TRANSMISSIONS HAVE BEEN DETECTED]

How about regular radio signals?

[NEGATIVE.  NO ARTIFICIALLY PRODUCED RADIATION / RADIO SIGNALS
HAVE BEEN DETECTED]

Largo shakes his head frustrated.  He has been hoping that this
talk of a sealed-off land was still some kind of hoax, but no
matter how many times he checks there seems to be nothing to
prove this possibilty wrong.  No technology of any sort.  He
hates being stranded like some foolish sailor on a deserted
island, completely seperated from anything he is familiar with.
In anger Largo lashes out a nearby tree, shattering it at the
base.  The wildlife inhabitting it flee for their lives as it
comes crashing down among the surrounding brush.  Emile stirs at
the noise, opening her eyes slowly and looking about weakly.

Emile (very hoarse) : L-Largo... Whe-where are we...?
Largo (without even looking at her) : We are in northern Borca.
By the end of the day we should reach Markovia.

Emile sits up slowly, although dizziness prompts her to fall down
once.  Largo watches her as she tries to sit up once again and
gropes around for her satchel.  She finds it, then begins to eat.
Emile looks at Largo and offers him some of her food which he
turns down.  So, now that she is awake and for the most part
functional should they continue on?  If Largo is going to
confront Azalin he will need to be at full combat readiness, but
at the rate it's taking it could be quite some time, possibly
even another week.  Not a desirable porspect...

Largo : Finish quickly, Emile.  We must continue at once.

Emile clumsily stuffs her supplies back in her bag and ties the
top shut.  She makes an attempt to stand, but she still doesn't
have enough strength in her legs.  Largo picks her up off the
ground in both arms and hikes through the thinning trees for the
mountains.  The trip to Darkon... It should be a relatively easy
trip.  After all there is precious little that Largo cannot deal
with...
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
                        End  -  Part  Five
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

                      Formula  119  presents...
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

               LARGO : RED  EYES  AND  WHITE  FANGS
             A Bubblegum Crisis / Ravenloft Crossover

                           By  Benares

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

                                Part  Six
Largo : This is completely impossible.

Largo stands overlooking the edge of what appears to be a great
mist-filled chasm.  Emile is standing behind him looking across
the distance in awe.  This was not right.  The maps clearly said
this was the border of Markovia, yet there is nothing there but a
gigantic rift that extends as far as the eye can see.  And
northward should lie G'Henna, yet it too is nonexistent.  The
maps showed territory, mountains, forest areas, open expanses of
grassland.  Nothing.  Nothing but a damn hole in the ground.
There's no way of saying how far down they go, but even with
visual sensistivity at maximum Largo can't see a base in the
abyss.

Emile : The Shadow Rift... I never thought I'd ever be able to
see it for myself.
Largo : It was not on the maps I studied at the old man's home.
What is it?
Emile : Father told me about it.  I think it happened six or
seven years ago, when the land started to fall apart.  There USED
to be G'Henna and Markovia lying at the borders of Tepest, but
when the land reformed our explorers found nothing but this
endless pit.  No one knows how deep it runs, though some
speculate it is a pit to the very depths of the Abyss itself.
Largo (thinking) : So when the Grand Conjunction failed and this
dimension reintegrated itself it had lost some pieces to its
puzzle.  Wonderful, hiking around it will double our travel time
at the very least.

Largo : Emile, how are you for supplies?
Emile : I only packed for three days.  The last of my foodstuffs
will be gone by the end of the day.

Largo hadn't anticipated how quickly the supplies would have gone
down.  Emile's sickness hadn't helped matters much either,
extending his travel time by two days.  Largo looks at the
expansive edge of the Shadow Rift and decides that he has no
choice.

Largo : Come, Emile.  We will have to travel through Falkovnia to
reach Darkon.
Emile : Largo, you haven't told me.  Why are we going to Darkon?
Largo : Yes, I have not told you.  Is there a reason I should?
Emile : I just thought that--
Largo : I have business to attend to in Darkon.  That is all I
need say.
Emile (skeptical) : Business.  Like you had in Barovia?
Largo : The two are related, yes.
Emile : What were we running from in Barovia?
Largo : Enough questions.  We must leave now.
Emile (crossing her arms and firmly planting her feet in the
ground): I'm not leaving until I get an answer.

Largo frowns at the challenge.  She is getting pluckier.  This is
not good.  If she is to stay safe she must follow his
instructions to the letter, without question.  Largo walks up to
her and slaps her across the face, careful not to do any physical
damage to his insurance.  The blow does cause her to stagger a
little, however.  Emile goes to her knees and caresses her cheek.

Largo : I said enough questions.  If you value your protection
you will not contend my authority any more.

Emile remains silent, shocked at being struck by the man she
loves.  Largo looks at her in annoyance and turns to continue his
journey, knowing she will follow soon enough.  He is so different
than when she first met him.  He used to be polite and kind, but
since she has been with him, since she has seen what he truly is,
he has become so incredibly... harsh.  She doesn't know what to
think of him any more.  Maybe... maybe he had good reason to do
that to her.  After all, she HAD contended his authority.  And he
IS the smarter of the two.  Maybe he has something in mind that
she doesn't.  Maybe she HAD done something wrong.  Or maybe she
hadn't... Emile sadly gets up and looks at Largo walking off,
then walks after him, her head drooped in sadness.

Guard : Pass.
Largo : What?
Guard : I said give me yer PASS, fool.

Dusk is settling in as Largo and Emile reach the border of
Falkovnia.  The night air is growing chilled; while the cold is
of no concern to Largo Emile is rubbing her arms and shuffling up
and down, each breath producing a small cloud of mist even though
she is still wearing the bundles of warm clothing.  The two have
reached a checkpoint station on the domain's border, a score of
guards in harsh military uniforms on sentry duty, monitoring who
enters and leaves Falkovnia.  One, a burly and rather
ugly-looking guard, has walked up to Largo and is holding out a
halberd, more for show than for protection.  The other guards are
busy eyeing Emile, attention which she has little desire for.

Largo : I have no pass.
Guard : Then ya aren't getting through, pal.  Unless... (puts
down the halberd and puts out his hand as though he wants
something)
Largo (amusedly looking at the otstretched hand) : You desire a
bribe of some kind?
Guard : Bribe?  Of COURSE not.  We prefer to think of it as a TIP
for services rendered.
Largo : You have no services I want.  Move.
Guard (pulls out the halberd again, this time looking as though
he's ready to use it) : What?! (the other guards take notice and
get to their feet, weapons readied) Turn around and leave, unless
ya want to grace the prisons of Lek--UGH!
Largo (holding the guard by the throat) : I believe I have given
you fair warning.

The other guards see their companion in danger and rush to his
aid.  Largo smiles fiendishly at the sight of polearms and
swords; he could take out this many trained human soldiers at
combat level six or seven, but it will be all the more amusing
for him now that he is at combat readiness level three, powerful
enough to take out a couple of military bumas.  Emile backs off a
little, unsure of what's going to happen.  The guards make a
group run at Largo, which ends very quickly when Largo takes the
guard he already has and swiftly blocks the incoming slew of
sharp weapons with him.  As the guards rear back at the screams
of their impaled man Largo leaps over them and grabs the rear
man, pulling him over his knee and snapping his back like a twig.
As the group turns around Largo grabs two of them by the face and
releases a high-strength bolt of electricity overloading their
gray matter, then drops their limp bodies to the ground.  Emile
backs way from the horrible scene.  Largo is tearing apart the
soldiers without mercy, clearly overmatching his opponents.  The
"battle" ends quickly, the battered or smoking remains of the
guards strewn about before him. Emile is almost in shock from the
graphic scene, gasping for air but only breathing in the punguent
stench of blood.  Largo looks about the mess with satisfaction,
not a drop of blood on him.

Largo : I'm amazed.  None of them were smart enough to run (Emile
remains stunned from witnessing the brutal exchange).  You are
surprised?  Do not be, you might see worse before this voyage has
ended.
Emile (finally getting the breath to speak, albeit a weak breath)
: H-how could you do that?  You... you knew they wouldn't be able
to fight back.  Some even begged for mercy...
Largo (smiling) : Mercy?  My dear Emile (walking up to her), do
you believe they would have granted us mercy if WE were in their
position?

Emile can't respond.  The men were obviously used to killing.  If
Largo wasn't as strong as he is they would have probably killed
both of them, and if the stories she has heard of the cruelty of
Falkovnia's soldiers have been true, they might have done worse.
Largo searches their nearby tent and emerges with a small
satchel.

Largo : This has enough food for another day's travel (hands
Emile the satchel).  We will head north for the city of Lekar.
There you can stock up for the remainder of the journey.

Emile looks into the darkening sky.  The sillouhette of an owl
can be seen against the deep purple sky, stars beginning to form
in its canopy.  The acrid stink of blood has become quite strong,
soon the wolves and other animals will come to investigate.  What
is it Largo wants, she thinks to herself.  Apparently not her,
sadly enough.  No, he has some definite course in mind, something
that lies in Darkon.  What ever happened to his island home?
Maybe he's following leads that will send him there.  A quick
breeze brushes across her face, suddenly reminding her of the
intense cold of the night.  Night travel has been quite common
with him; he never fears the creatures of the dark, probably
because they have much more to fear than he does.  What is he
REALLY, though?  Some form of undead, perhaps?  He can't be a
vampire, for he travels by daylight as well.  Maybe a lich, that
would remain consistent with the glowing red eyes he shows when
he desires to.  No, liches are said to freeze people with the
touch of the dead, and from when Largo carries her he feels
warmer than most men.  Maybe those stories her father had told
her aren't so far-fetched after all, those stories of his
childhood and the sinister Mists that pulled his home into them,
cutting his land from those around them.  If that was so then
Largo could be something completely alien to her.  Perhaps there
are many more like him.  Emile doesn't know whether to feel good
or bad about such a prospect.

Largo (annoyed) : Are you coming?

Emile stops her thought train and looks at Largo.  He has already
begun walking up the wide road but she hadn't noticed.  Emile
hoists the satchel over her shoulder and walks after him.

The night's travel has been pretty tiring.  Emile has tried but
she can't sleep whenever Largo is running, for each of his steps
is accompanied by a powerful jolt of force as he pushes off the
ground to continue his brake-neck pace.  Fortunately he has told
her that Lekar is not much farther and that they should reach it
shortly.  Emile is surprised at how many soldiers this land has;
the roads have been swarming with patrols, each marching in
strict military fashion, each brandishing the symbol of a hawk on
its armor and shielding.  Fortunately Largo can see them coming
considerably earlier than they can see him, so the two have been
able to hide in advance of each oncoming garrison.  Largo has
decided not to kill any more guards for the moment so as to avoid
any unnecessary attention, leaping onto the limbs of the large
black trees that line the road until any danger has passed.  What
a terrible land it must be to live in, this Falkovnia.  She has
heard a number of horror stories regarding its warlord Vlad
Drakov, how he would demand at least one execution every night to
accompany his evening meal, sometimes slaying up to forty people
for special occasions, and how he would have an orchestra play in
sequence with the screams of the victims as they would be
systematically impaled on thick pike, sliding down in a slow and
agonizing death.  Emile shudders at the idea.  How anyone could
fall to such evil is far beyond her ability to comprehend.  The
pounding from the ground is slowly decreasing, the wind is losing
intensity, they must be close to their destination.  Emile can
barely feel her face, the wind-chill has numbed it so much.  She
looks up and sees the city of Lekar appearing over the horizon,
it's steep ominous walls coming into focus from the distance.
How long have they been travelling?  It can't be as long as it
felt, by the position of the moon it can only have been a couple
of hours.  Will they be able to find a place to stay for the
night?  Judging from the noise and lights coming from within
Lekar there is little question; obviously they aren't afraid of
the night as are the people of many other lands.  Well, with all
the soldiers patrolling throughout the land there is little to
fear from creatures of the night here, although the soldiers
don't seem to be of any better stock than the goblins that
frequent Tepest.  For a second Largo slows to almost a stop and
Emile gets ready to be set down, then Largo immediately bursts
into a sprint, seemingly faster than the incredible pace he had
been running before.  Emile sees the city walls fly towards them,
her eyes growing wide as she expects for Largo to crash into them
head- first.  Suddenly there is the powerful thrust of gravity
upon her, followed by the sensation of flight.  Emile stares in
disbelief as Largo leaps over the stone walls and over the guard
who has not noticed them.  She looks down and feels compelled to
let out a squeal of fear as she sees how far above the ground
they are, but she holds it in as Largo drops back to the ground,
landing silently on his feet.  Emile looks back up to the wall,
the guard has still not seen them.  Largo moves to a less
conspicuous position and sets Emile down.

Emile (shaking) : Wh... what did you do th-that for?
Largo : I can't afford to kill a city guard, it would be too
noticable.  And I suspect you do not have enough money to bribe
him with to gain entrance to the city gates.
Emile : N-no.
Largo : Now, let us find an adequate place for you to rest.

Largo and Emile walk down the wide streets of Lekar, which are
still surprisingly full even after dark.  The streets are a
little dirty but at least well maintained.  Merchants from all
over the lands are bustling through the streets, hawking wares to
various others.  Soldiers seem to be everywhere.  While
everything doesn't seem too horrible at first Emile catches a
glimpse of what must be Lekar's actual citizens : beggars seem to
be sitting in every available doorway.  The alleys, which seem to
be overflowing with them, stink of sewage and dung, and it seems
that every citizen of Lekar is branded with the symbol of a hawk
on his or her forehead.  Emile starts to walk a little closer to
Largo and takes his arm, which to her satisfaction makes her feel
considerably safer.  While Emile feels fear and revulsion from
such a sight of squallor Largo doesn't seem to care.  It's not
much different than MegaTokyo, where the rich live at the surface
of society and the poor are shoved into the holes where people
can avoid looking at them. It seems that no matter where he goes
human society will play by these rules.

Largo : How much money do you have?
Emile : Four silver pieces.  There should be plenty for any food
we need to reach Darkon.
Largo : Is that also enough to provide a room at an inn?
Emile : I don't know.  This is a big city, so things might be
more expensive here.

Largo looks about the gas-lit streets.  A couple of inns are in
sight, so Largo picks out the closer one, a nicely kept
(relatively) stone- walled inn displaying the sign "The Seven
Stars" next to its front door.  Largo and Emile enter and are
immediately greeted by the innkeeper.

Innkeeper : Welcome to the Seven Stars.  May I be of assistance?

Emile is quite surprised at the appearance of this man.  He looks
like he is in his mid-twenties, and is in absolutely perfect
physical shape.  He has deep dark eyes and a beautiful head of
jet-black hair pulled back into a long ponytail.  His skin is
awfully pale, though.

Largo : I am need of a room.  How much do you charge?
Innkeeper : The paltry price of two silver pieces per night.  I
guarantee you won't find a better deal in town.
Largo : Second floor.
Innkeeper (goes behind the front desk and runs through a ledger)
: Second floor, let's see... Ah, here we go.  Second floor, room
212.  I must insist that you pay in advance, though.

Largo nods at Emile, who digs a couple of silver pieces out of
her jacket pocket.  The innkeeper takes the silvers and tosses
them into a small strongbox, then pulls out a small key and hands
it to Emile.  The innkeeper looks at Largo, who is looking back
with a look of mild interest on his face.

Innkeeper : You are foreigners?
Largo : Yes.
Innkeeper : Well, enjoy your stay in Lekar.

Largo and Emile walk up the wooden staircase and check into their
room.  Largo locks the door behind him.

Emile (removing her jacket) : He seemed rather nice.
Largo (smirking) : You really think so?
Emile : Huh?  What was wrong with him?
Largo : You didn't notice...
Emile : Notice what?
Largo : He was taking in your scent like one does a meal.
Emile : WHAT?
Largo : Go to sleep as soon as possible.  I will stay awake
overnight. We will leave early in the morning.
Emile : Why are we even staying here if that guy might be a
threat?
Largo : I would be surprised if anyone else in this city would be
any more trustworthy.  Besides, as long as I am here there is no
threat to you.
Emile (to herself) : That goes without saying.

Emile dresses down and settles in to bed.  She hasn't slept in
two days, so sleep comes swiftly.  What seems like a few seconds
pass when Emile feels someone shaking her.  She looks up to see
Largo standing over her.

Emile (groggy) : Whu-wuzzat...
Largo (finger to mouth) : Ssshhh.  Someone's coming.

Emile gets out of bed as quickly as she can.  She must have been
asleep longer than it felt; the noise from outside has lowered
considerably and her bed is messy enough to indicate she must
have tossed about quite a bit.  She looks at Largo, who has moved
to the door and is getting ready for whatever might come through
it.  Emile stands behind Largo, then decides to move a little
farther back, remembering how dangerous Largo could be in combat.
She fumbles around in the dark room for her jacket, not sure
whether or not Largo will decide to prompt a run.  For what seems
like an eternity the room is drowned in silence; all Emile can
hear is the thumping of her own heart.

Emile (whispering) : Largo, are you sure th--

Emile is cut short as the door slowly begins to open.  She can
hear the sounds of evil hissing coming from whoever is trying to
enter, but it seems that the trespassers are unaware that Largo
and Emile are waiting for them.  Largo quickly enlightens them to
the fact as he puts his hand flat against the door and slams it
into them.  He continues pushing, tearing the door off the hinges
and sending whoever is out there into the neighboring room.  For
a while there is silence, and Largo takes a quick look at his
attackers.  The innkeeper and some accomplice, both flattened
beneath the heavy door; not at all surprising. Largo is, however,
surprised to notice something different about them...

Largo (looking at the innkeeper's dead face) : Fangs?

The ceiling immediately caves open and a group of six attackers
leap upon Largo, forcing him to the ground before he has a chance
to react. The assailants are people who look much like the
innkeeper, men and women of exceptional physical beauty with dark
eyes, just under six feet tall with pale skin.  These same people
are trying to hack at Largo with wicked claws and fanged teeth,
although they are not progressing very far due to his incredible
armoring.  Largo stands back up with the group still on him and
rams himself into a wall, knocking off most of his opponents and
crushing one that was nearest to the wall.  The one that's still
latched to him is quickly picked off and thrown face first into
the ground, blood splattering everywhere about the splintering
floor.  Three of the remaining attackers make for Largo while one
of the men notices Emile.  She backs off little, bumping into a
table.  The man jumps at Emile with teeth bare, his mouth
salivating.  Emile screams as he pins her to the table and holds
down her head, exposing her throat and preparing to dig into her
jugular.  Emile desperately garbs around for something to fight
with and lays her hand on the heavy copper lamp sitting in the
center of the table.  With as much strength she can muster she
swings it about and slams it into the man's head.  The blow sends
the man staggering a little too close to the nearby window; he
accidentally crashes through it.  Unfortunately for Emile he
still has her by her jacket cuff, forcing the two to plummet
through the window.  Largo sees this and tries to make it to the
broken glass when the floorborads beneath him tear apart and a
two sets of arms grab him by the legs, pulling him through.  His
attackers gleefully follow down the hole to the first floor.

Emile slowly stirs.  Her head is groggy from the fall.  The
fall... Emile quickly looks about her and sees why she is still
in one piece : she had cushioned the blow by landing on the man
that had attacked her.  Unfortunately for him he had to comensate
for both his gravity and hers; apparently he was unsuccessful,
judging from all the blood and the dull look in his eyes.  Emile
peels herself from his body, shaking from the experience.  She
quickly takes off her blood-stained coat and throws it on the
ground amongst the broken shards of glass strewn about.  She
looks back at the inn; is Largo okay?  She begins to walk back to
the door when she hears a loud hissing behind her.  It seems the
man isn't quite dead yet, although he is quite injured.  He gets
up off the ground and bares his fangs and claws, preparing to
another attempt at a strike when his eyes suddenly go wide open
with pain.  He stands still for a second only a few feet from
Emile, then drops to the ground with a thump, a large wooden
spike driven through his back.  Emile stares at the body, then
looks up at the figure standing behind it : a small, thin
middle-aged man with a sparse head of graying blond hair.  He
gives her a lopsided grin and a sparkle to match in his eyes,
then walks over to the dead body.

Middle-aged man : Jumping out of windows, dear?  I hope you
aren't planning on making that a strong habit (pulls the spike
out of the body).
Emile : Th-thank you.
Middle-aged man : Oh, no need for thanks.  Happy to be of
assistance. (pulls out a handkerchief and cleans off the spike,
then puts both into his pack)
Emile (clutching her arm and grimacing) : Ow...
Middle-aged man : I see you didn't make a clean jump after all.
Let me take a look at that.
Emile : Thanks, but I--
Middle-aged man : Hush now.  It's better to take care of these
things before they get any worse.
Emile : But I've got a friend in there.  He might need me.
Middle-aged man (looks at the inn) : What?!  Oh dear!  Wait out
here, but don't wander off!  I'll see what I can do.

The man makes for the inn but is stopped in his tracks as the
front door tears open, Largo's fist driving one of his attackers
across the street and into a stone wall.  Largo smashes the
woman's skull inward, then lets go.  The body remains stuck to
the wall while Largo shakes the blood off his hand.  His body is
still quite undamaged but his clothes are ripped to shreds, which
he doesn't appear pleased about at all.  The middle-aged man
stares in surprise at Largo, who notices him for a second and
then continues to assess the damage to his outfit.

Middle-aged man : Is this your friend?
Emile : Yes.  Largo, are you alright?
Largo : Of course (gives Emile a quick look-over) but it appears
the fall cracked your shoulder.  I will have to set -- who are
you?
Middle-aged man : Oh, I'm sorry.  Should've introduced myself
earlier. I am Doctor Rudolph van Richten, at your service (puts
out his hand, which Largo doesn't bother to shake).  Right, well,
uh... We best be moving along.  The guards in this city tend to
appear rather frequently, and I don't think any of us are ready
for prison life just yet.  Come, I have safehouse not too far
from here.

van Richten leads Largo and Emile down the street to a small
stone house set about the many others and unlocks the door, then
seals the entrance once the three have entered.  He peers through
the drapes and sees the city guards running down the street at
the source of the commotion.

van Richten : Phew, just in time.  Now my dear, it is time I look
at that wound.  (Largo stands between him and Emile as he walks
up to her)
Emile : It's okay Largo, he saved my life.
Largo : That proves little.
van Richten : Don't worry, I'm quite harmless.  However, I need
to assess the damage to her arm so that I may prevent any further
damage.
Largo (gives van Richten the once-over, then decides to let him
work): Very well, but try ANYTHING with her and I will kill you
where you stand.
van Richten : Fair enough.  Sit down, dear, let's have a look at
that. (examines her arm) Hmm, what do you know, your friend was
right, a cracked shoulder.  Here, this should slow down any pain.
(digs about in his bag and pulls out a couple of leaves) Hold
these to your shoulder, it should feel numb after a few minutes
while I try to set your wound. (pulls out some bandages and to
wrap them around her shoulder) So, your friend is some fighter,
eh?  I must admit I didn't know what to think when I saw him
burst through that door.  Are you wearing a girdle of giant's
strength under those rags, my boy?
Largo : A what?
van Richten : There, that should make sure no more cracking takes
place.  Keep it in bandages for a week, change them twice a day,
and you'll be fine.  Now (sits up), what are you two doing
fighting vamyres?
Emile : VAMPIRES?!
Largo : Please, don't start spouting drivel about the walking
dead or some other such nonsense.
van Richten : The undead are NOT nonsense, my boy, but you
misunderstand me.  Vampyre, with a "Y".  They aren't walking
dead, but instead are predators of human kind, the top of the
food chain, so to speak.  They look like nosferatu, but are quite
alive.
Largo (eyebrow cocked) : I see.  We must be off.
Emile : Eh?
van Richten : And where are you two youngsters off to in such a
hurry?
Largo (heading for the door) : Darkon, if you must know.
van Richten : Really?  I happen to be from Darkon.
Largo (stops) : Are you?  Hmm, then perhaps you can help me.
van Richten : Of course.  What do you need?
Largo : I am trying to find a man by the name of Azalin.
van Richten (jumps a little at the mention of the name) : You
seek AZALIN?  Hmph, he is anything BUT a man, my friend.
Largo : You know of him, then.
van Richten (becoming very serious) : Oh, I know QUITE a bit
about him indeed...
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                        End  -  Part  Six
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