The beast awakens in its web. Time to finish off another victim, it grabs a suitable filament and in a moment crawls out onto the worldwide web. Drider then turns off the sculpted reality program he normally uses as he wants little data impact on the government mainframe. Thereby hacking it virtually unnoticed. In and out quickly, that's the plan. He then approaches the SAN (System Access Node) that he knows to be red level search and tar ICE. The creature sees the large UCAS eagle with a stars and stripes oak leaf on its breast signifying the entrance to the federal department of records. It stands like a great monolith watching over the area.
          The eight legged predator then slows to close range of the watcher when suddenly the watcher's eyes glow a bright red. Large scanning rays reach out, searching for any intruders into its charge. The drider then gathers webbing from several spinnerets and hurls it at the oak leaf on the watcher's chest and then gives a great pull. Instantly it opens, showing the backdoor Drider had coded into it a few weeks before. He then leaps into it. The eagle only then coming to life, reaches out a clawed talon at the parasitic intruder, but misses its chance as the drider quickly dives into its feathery breast.
          It is then an easy enough task to get past an orange node and to the datapool containing replacement SIN numbers. Drider quickly sets his spiderkin to work changing back the data on the SIN identification cards to the original information. This accomplished, Drider decides to alter a little data for more permanent SIN cards for his team. Calling up a system map he stole from the secretary's office, he finds the area he wants and moves to a higher level node. This section is level Red, but surprisingly it appears as an entrance to a cemetery.
          Good, the beast thinks, a sculpted system. Using his best skeleton key, the beast opens the rusted but large lock. It wonders how the lock could be so simple and antiquated and snarls at the possible repercussions of that fact. But still, the beast enters. As if in answer, the gate slams shut behind it. Hundreds of spiderlings then cover the gate instantly, and analyzing the code, report to their master. It is a trace ICE, looking for the origin of the user who passed through it. The beast must hurry.
          Drider suspects this is a rarely used node as it only contains the records of infants who died the day of their birth along with their mother in childbirth. Ironically this data went back to far before the crash of '27; there were literally millions of bits of near useless information in this node. Frag, only epidemiological pediatric historians would like this drek, and that was a small crowd. Even considering the large number of deformities born this day and age, advances in modern medicine reduced the number of double deaths to no more than three times per year in the whole UCAS. This of course was for those legal residents with proper medical care and SIN identifications. Folks living on the street had different statistics... In any case, users of this node were rare and thus would always be checked thoroughly as they entered this area. Drider also suspected that the sysop of this node had allot of time on his hands, and thus sculpted his own system.
          The beast then enters the cemetery and looks at the tombstones through a foggy haze covering the area. The great spider found several dates which fit the specifications he was looking for. Finding one which approximated his sister's age, he begins digging madly. All eight legs throw the dirt into the sky and the beast uses its brawny hands as well.
          It uncovers a small coffin, and finding small bones inside, issues a command to alter the fingerprints and other data to equal that of his sister. He then closes the box and buries it again and with a flourish puts a flower on the fresh grave. As he walks away, it quickly returns to normal, appearing as all the millions of other burial sites in this area. Drider sneers at such a poor design flaw and remains unimpressed at the lack of continuity in this sculpted reality. He then finds birth dates approximating his own, Ravage, and several others in the team and alters that information as well. This he continues until he encounters ICE. ICE placed randomly throughout the graveyard to prevent grave robbers such as he.
          Within a coffin he finds, instead of small infant bones, a huge necrophidius which pours forth from the box of death. Its human skeletal head on the malformed body of a snake quivers madly. It then lets out a shriek of alarm. The sound is enough to awaken the dead. Skeletal remains throughout the yard begin to unearth themselves. Clawed hands dripping rotted flesh tear at the soil and begin crawling forth. The snake creature then attacks the beast with its fanged head. The beast dodges swiftly and realizing it is better to leave, bounds towards the front gate.
          As it approaches, the iron grating lengthens and the blackened rusted points shoot towards the blackened sky. Lightning tears across the atmosphere preventing those creatures that would try to fly out. The beast crosses the few meters to the gate in an instant. The creature then springs, and using the power of its eight massive legs jumps high onto the railing. It then quickly scales the iron rods using the sticky pads on its appendages. The rust tears into the legs of the creature but the thick exoskeleton abates all the damage. Lightning then strikes but instead is grounded into the fence itself. In another moment the beast is over the fence and stands at the front gate looking in at the havoc that is now taking place. Literally every grave has been overturned as the zombie attack programs clamber forth.
          'At least that sysop will never find the changes I made in that mess,' Drider thinks to himself.
          But then the sysop appears. It comes forth from a large mausoleum building near the front of the cemetery. The ghostly black wraith crosses the yard towards him. Two discorporeal red eyes float under the hooded cloak.
          'Y-O-O-O-U-U-U H-A-V-E D-I-S-T-U-R-B-E-D MY R-E-S-S-S-T' the creature says. The great spiderbeast then smiles a fanged grin.
          'I HAVEN'T EVEN STARTED!!' the beast roars. Drider than quickly triggers his transformation program, and in an instant the dark elven form appears. 'So now we meet, and in your own haunt. I swore I would banish you, and your time has drawn nigh.' he says with evil laugh. He then draws forth his black sword and quickly breaks the lock.
          The wraith like figure then closes the remaining distance. It reaches out a skeletal hand and attempts to degrade the defenses of the dark elf. The black blade deflects the attack then chops the hand off at the wrist. The elf then spins and brings the sword up the side of the undead being and slashes away at the black cloak. The cloak is shredded by the sword and the rival decker is near defenseless in the matrix. The drow then reaches forward with an ebony hand and grabs at the tattered remnants of the hood and laughs as he casts a spell.
          'Let us see the strength of your determination to defend your haunt.' the elf says with a sneer. 'This little program sets up a feedback loop between our two personas and feeds directly to the pain sensors of the cortex through the datajack. We will both feel it increase until one of us pulls the plug and jacks out. But I warn you, you will be out for several minutes once you eject, and I assure you your data stores will be crawling with worms when you return... I suggest you stay.'
          The dark elf's pupils fade to black and a jolt of black energy arcs across his hands to the hood of the paralyzed being. The body convulses as the current slides through its being. The wraith issues a mental command to reverse its position away from the pain. Drider issues a command to follow. Drider feels the bolt of pain searing through his virtual body as well, but he knows it to only be a phantom sensation. Neurons in the brain are activated, and volumes of Acetylcholine pours into the synapses, but the damage is not real. This program was an offshoot of his friend Elros' biofeedback research. Drider learned Elros had created structured algorithms that modeled fractals onto the brain. Specific fractals could stimulate certain brain-waves in the brain. It allowed for only the broadest of sensory stimulation, most of it painful, but it had had its uses.
          Both foes again convulsed as the bolt of pain rocked their bodies. The feedback loop had cycled again and repeated the most recent command issued by the two foes. Retreat by the wraith and advance by the dark elf. Both foes stumbled through the cemetery, retreating towards the mausoleum. The wraith struggled to get free, then activate its protective cloak again, but the feedback always returned the initial reaction to reverse direction. The loop would continue to repeat these commands and add line static through each cycle of the loop. This static then was incorporated into the level of resolution of the fractal. As the fractals level of detail was infinite, so was the level of pain. The decker's only chance was to jack out physically by pulling the cable from the head socket; an action all deckers hated as it left the hacker with a painful disorienting headache that could take hours to recover from.
          Again the two foes shook in the pseudo seizure. Drider felt the pain throughout his persona like molten metal being poured into his body through his skull. He held back a scream and pulled the wraith into see the red eyes. They were expressionless, but the body struggled to avert the dark stare and fanged grin of the elf standing over it.
          "I see you have never felt black ICE singe you to the soul of your being. You only try to create it and send it at those trying to make a living on the streets. Fragger, you are not death. You are just a husk, a dry brittle creature unhappy with its dull life. An eternity of guarding dead, useless data. A fate worth than death for a decker with any talent. But then that is why you're here. You have no talent, and were put here for that reason. You steal a personality to gain fame you can't achieve on your own. I DESPISE YOU!' the drow screams as another wave of pain cycles through their bodies. The two are now well into the mausoleum, following the trail in reverse from which the wraith had come.
          A large gold coffin lies behind shattered marble in a secret room. The feedback loop passes again, and still the wraith refuses to give up by pulling the plug. They backtrack again and stepping into the coffin are instantly transported through it through a backdoor out into the matrix. Both icons hurtle through the world spanning network locked in mortal combat, each refusing to let go of the other.
          They fly over the neon horizon and hurtle directly to the circus big top that is known to pros as poserBBS. As the wraith is an addicted regular here the tickets are paid for automatically by a small ghostly daemon illegally transferring funds from a low level government account. Both figures then hurtle into the bar. The dark elf's hands are clenched around the throat of the creature and he laughs madly. The wraith is now wriggling uncontrollably from the convulsions of pain. The two hurtle around the room in a macabre dance retracing the most recent steps this civil servant had taken on government time.
          Finally the wraith lets out a scream of agony and dissolves into nothingness.
          'I AM VINDICATED!' the dark elf screams as he holds up a portion of shroud cut away in the combat. 'LET THIS BE A WARNING TO THOSE WHO WOULD STEAL ANOTHER'S IDENTITY!' the dark elf then quickly reverses his steps out of the cyberbar and returning through the backdoor in the Wraith's coffin finds backdoors into various government databases throughout the network. He quickly downloads some low level information, all that was of value in these low level data stores. And then leaves the channel open as he backs out. If the wraith can't shut them down soon enough, they would be traced to his node, and it would be his problem.
          Standing victorious in the mausoleum he issues a copy command to all networks so that his changes would be preserved system wide. That completed he then releases a viral worm throughout the area. The creatures begin crawling into the soil immediately and begin replicating in the skeletal data stores.
          'They should be all over the surface in no time. If he's smart he'll claim to have backed the data files up himself before the virus attack.' he chuckles at the irony, 'he'll hate knowing that some of the data has been changed, but he'll never be able to change it.' Drider smiles to himself at his dirty little deed. 'He better have more luck closing down those backdoor pathways.' he thinks, then issues the command to crash the system. He jacks out right before the count reaches zero.
          A large portion of the government records would go off-line that day, only for a half hour while the system rebooted, but a hacker had to enjoy the small victories as well.
          "That was for the real Wraith," Drider says as he disconnects the cable from his datajack.

[Unfinished] -Puk attacks scorpion corp

[In another age, in the distant past]
          After years of adventure the halfling thief had settled down to enjoy the fruits of his labors. He had lived by many names, finally settling as Iremire. An elvish name meaning "desires jewels," named by an elven acquaintance. A simple enough name to pass into a simple life, in light of his new occupation. Granted he had been given the name for other reasons, but that was another story.
          Selecting a small city in a safe enough, civilized province ( One of the few in which his name did not precede him ), he had fallen back to one of his many secondary skills. He opened a small jewelry shop and settled in to enjoy a well deserved retirement. Of course, since adventurers are never allowed to retire, it was but a short time before Iremire would be drawn back into the never ending troubles of the world.
          It was the time of the harvest festival, and Iremire was looking forward to having a nice, relaxing celebratory evening with the rest of the city. For the past two weeks he had been quite busy cutting gems and creating new jewelry for the people. Ahh the people. They had accepted him as a simple jeweler easily enough. His handiwork had become famous locally, so he was kept busy. Rarely did his thoughts pass to his previous years of adventuring. So as the last gemstone went out for the day, Iremire happily put up the closed sign and locked the door. He quickly changed himself, ready to go to the festivities. Going out he was greeted warmly as he passed his neighbors on the streets. He made his way to his favorite pub.
          "Hey Iremy boy, how's it goin'?" Ox, the dimwitted dwarven barkeep queried. "There's some suckers looking to pay for a story in the back."
          "Get me an ale and put it on their tab," laughed Iremire. It looked like he would be drinking for free tonight. He headed for the back booth and there were the expected little rich brats. "Greetings my lords and ladies, how do thee fare on this glorious evening of festival? I hear that thee are in look of tales of adventure?"
          "A boy? You would dare send a boy to amuse us with lies?" The arrogant youth shouted at the barkeep.
          Being used to this Iremire laughed and said "I am no boy sir, I am a fully grown halfling with five times your years. I've got more illegitimate grandchildren than you have subjects in your fiefdom." With this Iremire seated himself next to the young ladies and barked out for more ale.
          The youth across from him fumed for a moment until the lady next to him whispered in his ear. "Let the halfling speak, you know how I get after hearing such wild adventures."
          "Bring the ale, barkeep. Keep it flowing until I say otherwise," the youth quickly interrupted. "You may proceed with amusing the ladies with your fanciful tales."
          Iremire chuckled to himself. He then launched into a wildly concocted story based very loosely and liberally upon adventures of his own.
          After several hours, during which the young rich brats were thoroughly entertained, the youth whispered to his lady, "Ready now, my dear?" He leered longingly. "Let's go. Barkeep, for your troubles and his." He tossed a handful of golden coins arrogantly down upon the table. With that off they all went, leaving Iremire and Ox to a fine profit for the evening.
          "Iremy my boy, the tales that you tell. One would almost believe that you had been there. You, I know. A jeweler you be now, and a jeweler you have always been. That's as obvious as the hand that I'm missing." Ox was beaming. "There's never been a more honest man in this town than you!" he winks.
          "Thank you, my friend. I've just always had a gift to make up stories. My, even in my childhood the family would gather around and have me entertain through the dark, cold winter nights." Iremire smiled back at Ox, although not for the same reasons that Ox was smiling for. He was thinking about the necklaces, rings, and gold-filled purses that he had just acquired, lightening the stupid noble's loads, as well as the free ale for the evening.
          A few hours later, thoroughly buzzed, Iremire stumbled off home. That's strange he thought, he knew that he had locked his door before he had left. Attempting to gain control of his senses, Iremire stealthily entered his own home. Seated by a roaring fire, calmly blowing smoke rings, was a dark figure. Iremire crept up behind him and calmly encircled his neck with a garrote. "May I be of service?" Iremire hissed.
          The figure startled. "I have heard of your exploits and desire your services, Perc..."
          The sudden tightening of the garrote interrupted any further attempts at speech by the figure. "Do not mention that name. Since you broke into my home, and I have you at a serious disadvantage you will only answer the questions that I pose to you. Now then, who are you?"
          "I am but a messenger for one greater than myself. One that won't take kindly to your treatment of me..."
          "Shut up, you imbecile." Iremire twisted the garrote again in emphasis. "Let's begin again. Who are you?"
          "J-j-just a worthless servant, my lord." The fear was obvious now. "I have come to beg your services in a trivial matter."
          "I'm obviously not the one that you want. I'm just a simple jeweler that won't let ruffians like you ruin my life or my livelihood. Now what shall I do with you? Can't have your body stinking up my shop- that would put too much of a damper on business."
          "Please, my lord, don't hurt me...I have a wife and small children at home...I don't know anything...I'm just a messenger...I'm meaningless to your greatness..."
          "Oh stop your blubbering, you peon." Iremire released the intruder who immediately cowered at his feet.
          "In my pouch, you'll find a parchment. On it is everything that you desire to know."
          Iremire took the pouch and shook it's contents out. A scroll of some sort remained inside. Iremire angrily reached in to remove it. Something that he would have otherwise caught instead caught him. A sharp stinging sensation suddenly came to him, immediately followed by a numbing. Damn I'm out of practice thought Iremire as he was paralyzed by the poison. Damn all that ale...

          Iremire awakened only to find himself bound hand and foot. He quickly untied himself, checked his home for the intruder, then satisfied that he was alone sat himself down to coffee and breakfast. The note left for him was menacing. He pondered over it for a while. Simple enough, either fetch a parchment for some scum, or have everything that he had built here for his retirement come crashing down around him. This guy had the goods on him.
          After tidying up he gathered up some important gear for his impending journey. Entering a closet he shifted a panel out of his way and proceeded down the steep stair to his hidden basement. Here in this stone lined room his most prized possessions were kept. Most of the magic had faded from the amulets and potions, but he kept it all for the fond memories. He equipped himself carefully, with years of experience. As this occurred a look returned to his eye that hadn't been there for anyone to see in a long time. It was the look that only a lifelong adventurer has. The wonders that he had seen...
          Iremire quietly slipped out of town. He found the ponies where they were promised to be. They seemed to be adequately supplied. The map was in the saddlebag where it should be. No poison thorns here, whoever wanted this parchment wasn't looking to anger him further. The days turned to weeks as he traveled. Finally he saw his objective. The tower was standing alone atop the hill. After scouting it he settled in to wait. Sure enough, it was a wizard that lived here. He napped away the afternoon casually awaiting the advantage of night. After waking and checking that all was clear he snuck up to the tower. A simple enough trick to bypass the failing magical security system. Iremire entered the tower within seconds of approaching it.

          The great wizard stirred in his great slumber. Whispers began to reach him. Sometimes he slept for days at a time after he had cast an especially powerful spell. It was always that way nowadays. He had been feeling the magic slip away for the past few decades. At first it had begun slowly. His spells had begun to react sluggishly, often misfiring. Lesser mages hadn't noticed until very recently, with their inferior skills the effect upon them had only began in the last decade. He had cast many great divinations, had read all of the signs, and they revealed to him the most frightening thing that he had ever encountered... The Age Was Ending! The magic was leaving the lands for yet another great cycle. Once again he would have to travel the other dimensions for five millennium, to await the next rebirth.
          Of course the magic was failing, that explained everything. But after spending centuries perfecting his skills, to have them just no longer work was absolute frustration. It was time to marshal all of the remaining magic that he could in one last great spell to preserve himself through the ages until magic once again walked the lands.
          Those whispers suddenly became louder. The cantrips warned him, "intruder, intruder, intruder," on and on, endlessly. The wizard cocked one ear, listening to the voice that only he could hear. His security spell had failed and only the alarm remained. The rage and frustration that he felt over this almost overwhelmed him. He then awoke himself, and he was angry!

          Following another map, Iremire then found his way to the treasure vault. 'This guy's been around for a while,' thought Iremire as he stood for a moment admiring. He pocketed a few things that looked interesting and moved forward to the far wall. Sure enough, the secret door was exactly where it was supposed to be. One good thing about this failure of magic was the ease of sneaking into a wizard's lair. His map ended here. Beyond the secret door was a chamber containing an ornately carved table. On the table lying in clear view was a scroll. 'This must be it,' thought Iremire.

          The wizard had indeed felt something stirring his defenses. Casting a quick spell he located the intruder in his vault! Teleporting into his treasure room he saw the halfling thief attempting to take his greatest treasure. The scroll that contained the spell to preserve him through the ages. Now with the magic failing in the world he had almost lost it.
          A quick spell instantly paralyzes the thief. He quickly placed the dwarf into shackles in his small dungeon, and as a precaution strengthened the stasis spell that he had cast. This annoying task completed, he scoffed at the many skeletal remains of previous thieves and returned to his slumber. ' I need more rest before I cast the final spell,' thought the aged wizard.
------

          'The bonds are weakening,' thought the small thief. He had been held immobile for what seemed to be days. Without the rising and setting of the sun he had no way to tell how much time had actually passed. For the millionth time he tried to wiggle his fingers, his toes, his ears, his nose. That horrible stench had been causing his stomach to churn for the past four hours or so. His fingers finally moved! "Eureka!" He cried out to no-one in particular. The sound of his own voice shocked him. He suddenly heard the creeping and crawling of insects all around him.
          This sudden onslaught of sound sent him into a review of his current predicament... That horrid stench, it appeared that many things had died here, and the sewage pit must be near as well. That paralysis spell had held him senseless for time unknown, but it was weakening finally.
          Soon after the paralysis spell finally wore off, and Iremire made short work of the shackles. He snuck out of the dungeon, and unable to locate his gear, began his search for his beloved magic items. However, on his way he found the wizard in his hermetic lodge. While he was here he might as well take a peek...
          What was that wizard up to? Magical symbols were drawn everywhere, voices chanted from the very walls! He took another step forward and then taking his eyes off the view looks down and notices he has stepped into a hermetic circle! Suddenly as if a vortex had been opened Iremire felt his soul being ripped from his body. He watches his physical body collapse in on itself and get drawn to and attached to the collapsing body of the wizard that he had so recently tried to rob. His mind was attached to that of the wizard's. He instantly felt a scream from the wizard, "NO! YOU FOOL! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE!" Then everything was blackness.
          In the darkness that followed, a small two figured statue cooled from a molten red, to orange, then to gold.

          The ages passed. This curious figurine of a man and a boy survived as a exquisitely detailed treasure from another time. Eventually it came into the possession of the yakuza house of the gold dragon. There it lie in a treasure room hidden deep in the heart of Tokyo for many a century.
          Many had tried to divine it's origin and it's purpose. They had all failed. The strangest feature appeared to be some strange writing on the bottom of the statue. It appeared as some sort of strange design, but after so many centuries no one remembered it was there. It had been gathering dust for so long that it was hardly noticed any longer and the yakuza had no clue as to the value of this treasure. They thus decided to include it in a world tour of Japanese Empire treasures, a museum tour that eventually passed into Denver...

          "Good morning Denver! Today we have some interesting guests on our show today. We will meet Distar the new vid sensation that has taken the city by storm. Her provocative style of dance mixed with that ancient form of music called disco beat has tantalized Denver for the past weeks. Also on our show we will showcase the new line of fall clothing marketed by Vital Max, inc. Remember our motto if you gotta go out go out in style."
          "But before we get to our exciting show I have a special report. It was reported that earlier this morning the famous Bronze statue called Vivali was missing from the Natural Museum of the arts. The statue was on loan from the Imperial Japanese Government, who had found it stored away in one of their old storage sheds, we're told.
          When the spokesperson for the Museum was asked what had happen she was quoted as saying, "We here at the library are baffled at the current state of affairs. What we know of now is that the artifact was, according to our security personnel, in the display room all night long. When the curator of that particular exhibit was opening the room for display he noticed the statuette was missing. We are at this time interviewing the security company for any wrong doing. The Alamo Security Systems, Inc. has been our security company for the past 10 years, it may be time for us to review our association."
          When asked if there were any suspects, the library spokesperson said, "We have no suspects at this time, the cleaning crew was under watch at all times, according to the Alamo people. I have no comment on if Alamo people were involved, Lone Star is on the case as we speak." When we tried to speak to a Lone Star official we were giving brisk no comment replies. Alamo was also not available for any comments but sources say that their stock is plummeting rapidly due to the incident."
          "Now after a word from our spon..."

          Shelob turns off the vid with a slight grin on her face. "Well that takes care of some of our competition.", she thinks to herself. She thinks that maybe this guy could be a welcome addition to the group. Suddenly she notices her vidphone light blinking and she switches on the monitor. She isn't surprised to see the face of Raven.
          "Hola Shelob. Did you catch the local news?" says Raven with a devilish grin.
          "Yea I scanned it just now. Nice piece of work, but I see one flaw, you must have put some kind of device on the vids so that the Alamo people would see the object. Alamo may be vidheads but Lone Star aint mama's boys. They are going to find those little devices of yours and put a trace." says Black Widow.
          "No es un problema. You see the devices had a special disintegrating chemical that would have dissolved the reflectors at just about the time the curator was entering the room. Even if Lone Star analyzed the chemical contents on the vids they would trace it back to a little ole go-gang group down near the CAS border. I even put in an extra sign that would lead them their if they were smart enough to look for it. Sort of my way of paying em back for some nasty things that happened down south. Sort of an inside joke between me and Gunslinger, you have to ask him about it someday. Well where do I sign up chica?" says Raven.
          "I have talked to my associates and we have agreed to let you into our establishment on a probationary period. We have a mission that is of top priority and we need to get you in and set up to fly out of Denver ASAP. You know our office location, so get down here and bring a carry-on cuz we don't know when this will be over. Scan this, I'm taking the word of my pal Gunslinger on this, we don't normally just let anyone in on this ride, even if they are good enough to do the job. So don't let Gunslinger or me down, cuz I don't take to being disappointed especially when my comrades are at stake."
          "No worries boss I'm scanning what you projecting. I'll be right over in 20. Oh by the way I must say your new all black outfit is primetime Shelob." says Raven.
          "Thanks for the compliment Raven but along with my clothes I have changed my name. Call me Black Widow from now on." says the changed woman as her eyes turn a bright crimson red.
------

          After a week of private sessions with nurse Krista, Ravage was starting to get a little anxious for some biz. That's the life of a runner, you can't stay away from the action for long. It always finds ways of sneaking back into your life. Some call it the edge and some call it an addiction. Ravage knows he just wants some and he's gonna find it. After his kumate he called the new home base in Denver and was told to stay put in Bangkok for a new mission. His contacts, Harley and two new members he had never heard about were going to brief him on his new mission. It was good to be back in the biz but since he had not heard from Harley he was starting to get that itch. With one last tussle with his private nurse Ravage bids the hospital good-bye and goes out to explore Bangkok.
          "I think I'll go see my old stomping grounds." he says to no one in particular. He stops an orderly and leaves a message for Puk, who has been missing from the hospital after his almost fatal mistake. "Tell the boy I'm off the old neighborhood, he'll know what I'm talking about."

          The sun was shining brightly and for once the humid, rain ridden city actually felt bearable. Taking a deep breath he started to walk towards a rick-shaw driver, but then thinking more about it he signaled a taxi to pick him up. Seating in the back seat of the rundown taxi he contemplated the difference in the atmosphere of Bangkok. He was still a marked man by the new government, but his recent status in the Blue Tiger organization had halted the most extreme anti-Scorpion supporters. Maybe this yak stuff has some advantages after all, he thought to himself.
          "Ahh mister where to?" asked the driver nervously as he spotted the Katana in the orc's lap.
          "Take me to the south side. I'll tell ya where we go when we get there" grunted Ravage in a mildly annoyed voice.
          When the driver still did not move the car, Ravage looks at the back of the sweating human and growls, "What's the problem human, can't hear or something?"
          "Sorry mister but that's no mans land for us Taxi drivers. We stop going that way about a month ago do to the loss of several cars." whines the driver practically crying as he says the words.
          Ravage laughs as he thinks about living a life in constant fear.
          "Look pal. Seeing as death can find you anywhere, and looks like its riding your shoulder at this moment, I think you should reconsider my request." says Ravage ominously as he pulls forth a few inches of his steel.

          Within seconds the taxi is speeding on its way to the south side of town. After a speedy ride Ravage informs the driver he wants to be let out at the Lame Duck, a seedy bar that looks like it has never seen good times. As Ravage steps out of the car and looks around the driver, with passenger door still open, races off wildly back to the civilized world he is comfortable with. Ravage lets out a loud roaring laughter as he looks after the fleeing man.

          "Ah Mister Ravage welcome to my most humble palace.", a rat looking oriental woman, with a thick accent, says as she notices her new patron.
          "Palace! This is more like a drek hole, mama-san." says Ravage.
          "Now. Now. Ravage-san, you know I'm a woman of humble beginnings and my establishment only reflects my lowly earnings." pleads the woman as she bows multiple times to the large orc.

          Ravage bends low to enter the building and cringes his nostrils as he whiffs the pungent odor of unclean humans. "Now mama-san, cut the drek and play me straight. You know why I'm he so interrupt your previously scheduled program and give me the special report.
          "Well since you insist on being straight to the point, lets go to my office.", the woman seems to straighten up and her accent disappears as she realizes the orc is not interested in her front.

          They go towards a rest room that reeks of a past patrons deposits of unknown origin. Opening a nasty smelling stall the woman reaches behind the toilet seat and pulls a lever. Within seconds the wall behind the stall opens to reveal a passageway into a dark damp room. As they move into the corridor the secret door slams shut and the distant sound of the toilet flushing can be heard. Switching his cyber eyes to night vision Ravage has little problems navigating the small corridor until they enter a medium sized room. Turning on a ceiling light shows the duo a room full of various small arms and tactical equipment. A large map of the entire city took the whole west wall and scrawled on the map were safe houses, storage houses and hot spots.

          "So what's the word on the street?" asks Ravage ignoring the room, as if he had been here before.
          "Well now that the Yaks are covering for you the government has its hands tied on your termination. I'm assuming that's why you took a chance on coming over here. I can't imagine you giving away my position if you knew you were hot." the women chides the orc in a motherly tone. "Anyway I'm sorry to hear about you boys they were good kids and I always enjoyed dealing with those fraggers. I tried to do what I could for em but it happened so fast that the whole lot seemed to disappear within days of your supposed death. By the way how did that happen. One minute word on the street is you got axed in the hospital and the next your chopping of heads again."
          "Sorry Kal but that's a need to know info and you aint got the need." replies the orc as he sits down on a beat up old recliner.
          "Sokay by me. We all got our own secrets. Anyway things are getting weird on the streets. People are missing and some say that an evil spirit has invaded the city." says the women as she begins to take off her rags and put on a silk kimono of obvious expense. Both her and Ravage seem to accept her brief nudity as if it was a common practice.
          "People are always missing in Bangkok Kal, what else is new. Come to think of it since I've been here we have been invaded millions of times by evil spirits, seems like every man, woman or child that calls himself a prophet predicts the next evil invasion." replies Ravage.
          "This time is different. Not only are the peasants disappearing but some higher ups are starting to disappear also. The government is covering it up for some reason, maybe so a panic doesn't occur but who knows with them. I've got as many search and find jobs as you can possible think about and the prices range from big to small. I even got a small fortune from you old neighborhood, seems like they have been hit hard by the snatchers as they are calling them on the streets. In one week alone 20 men and women were taken to who knows where."
          Ravage sits up straight his interest peeked. "How much they putting up?"
          "Well as you know those people are mostly riceboys so they don't make the creds that most wage slaves do. Somehow they came up with 5k worth of creds as a reward. I nearly had to laugh as I saw their pathetic long faces when they agreed to the payment. Looked like they had sold all their livestock and personal items. One old lady even went as far as to say she would personally do anybody that helped find their lost ones." says Kal as she produces a long neck from the small frig. She tosses one to Ravage and takes another one and slowly rubs it up and down her neck and chest. "Drek its humid today. So you interested or what?"
          Drinking the cool beer in one gulp Ravage replies, "Yea things have slowed down in the past weeks and I'm in need for some action. This sounds as good as anything. Send the info to Puk and I'll start on it tomorrow. Oh and tell that mama-san to get ready for me."
          Kal spits up some of her beer and looks shockenly at Ravage.
          "Got ya Kal, you know I only have eyes for you my love." says Ravage with a wide grin.
          Kal smile widens as she peels her wet kimono off and pulls her old woman wig revealing long wavy locks of jet black hair. She slowly walks over to the huge orc and whispers into his ear. "I'm sure glad you made it Ravy it wasn't the same without you."
          The two then embrace and let nature take its course.

          Black Widow studied the statue that Raven had left with her. It was a curious thing. An old man and a small boy done up in exquisite detail. It should fetch a great deal more than Raven might suspect! What an excellent bonus, especially when added to the man joining the Scorpion Corp. Sure, she was extremely angry over the Bangkok issue, but she let those thoughts leave her mind for the moment.
          She was about to call a local pawn to dispose of the item, when she noticed an unusual feature on the statue. There was some sort glyph inscribed on the bottom. Oddly enough it appeared to be some sort of circuit diagram. She consulted Sidewinder and he agreed it appeared to be based on electricity, however upon scanning the statue astrally concluded it was not magical in origin.
          "Unless that thing can mask its own aura," he smirked, "Its as lifeless magically as your brother's datajack." he then left the room to go back to his hermetic studies.
          She then called Jax over the internal videocom.
          "Jax, get your fragging ass down here! I've got something interesting for you!"
          "One moment Shelob...errr...I mean Black Widow, mon capitan." Jax stumbled through the name error while he watched her eyes go black in response. He quickly came to her office. There she deposited a small statue into his care.
          "Tell me why I wouldn't want to sell this, Jax," mumbled Black Widow.
          "Yes, my mistress." Jax then hurriedly took the figurine and left.

          A short time later Black Widow had a new concern. The lights went out. "Drek this bullshit!" bitched an irritated voice. "Jax, you better have a good explanation!" Black Widow yelled.
          "One moment," was the reply. "That one probably shut down half of Denver. Main power will be back in a moment. Auxiliary is on-line. Sorry, I'll have backup ready next time. BTW, I did a test with the figurine and made the circuit as proscribed on the underside of the statue. It appears to be a capacitor, with a tremendous amount of storage potential . So I gave it some juice... Hope that electrical surge didn't damage the mainframe."
          Jax, already partially rigged in, reset the backup generators to an on position. He then contacted the city power bank and established a stronger draw potential. After plugging in the jack this time he was ready. "Let's do it!" he says as he mentally flips the switch to the on position.
          The room filled with mist and an eerie glow appeared from the statue. Voices came from nowhere, chanting in an unknown tongue. The statue then vanished in a blaze of light. Suddenly there were two figures standing in the center of the room. A small curly haired figure and a tall human and the statue had vanished!
          Almost instantaneously the tall figure lets out a scream, 'YOU HAVE UNDONE ME!' The beard on his face grows several feet in length, reaching the floor. The hair on his head turns a pure white then falls out. The old wizard then screams in pain as teeth fall out from his quickly rotting mouth and the skin on his body begins to shrivel with the effects of 5000 years of delayed aging. In seconds, the mage collapses in a heap of bones onto the floor. These quickly turn to dust and a mysterious wind in the room then blows it all away.
          Just the one small boyish figure staring blank eyed at Jax, remains.
          "Uh, captain perhaps you had better get down here. I think that I have found a reason that you might not want to pawn the statue."
          "Are you a wizard?" the small man asks.

          Black Widow arrives quickly and immediately begins a gentle and persuading interrogation of the individual. She gains much insight. The short one claimed to be from a distant past so long ago that magic had been leaving the land. That must be well over 5000 years ago. She learned of frightening spells, and an adventure gone wrong. The magic made no sense, but the small thief remained. And from the stories he told, his thievery prior to this point had been legendary.
          'Just great,' she thought, 'it is time to get to Bangkok, and just as if that wasn't enough work already, I will have to keep a close eye on this stranger from the distant past as well.'
          "You can call me Percy, the halfing." he says with a smile.
          "Throw him in the brig," she orders.

          A great arc of chain lightning bolts tears the sky over the dark forest. It sends its tendrils out in all directions randomly starting fires throughout the area. A huge white bolt leaps from the sky and terminates on the stone sarcophagus. It electrifies the entire area.
          "CRACK-BOOM!" follows the thunder aftermath.

          Meanwhile in a stasis parabolic chamber in the Scorpion Corp's infirmary an electrical surge spikes through the delicate instruments. Within the machine, a long haired spindly figure convulses. The body shakes and tightens in an epileptic seizure. Blood pours furiously from its mouth as the teeth with receded gums bite down furiously into its tongue. The head is tossed back and the back is arched in a death throw. The long fingernails of the tortured soul cut deeply into the hands as it clenches its fists from the shock. The being, only a husk of the huge man it once was due to muscle atrophy in this technological coffin, quivers in resolute resistance to a final death.

          The entranced being was lost. His mind had faded long ago as a result of the endless reliving of what now seemed to be someone else's memory. Now there was only the prison. The prison of this endless loop of a fragment of a life. No other memories are available. The soul struggles to break free. Instead his fragile mind only further slips away. He began to drift away, his form starting the merge into the energy of the matrix. There was no direction to his thoughts. All had lost meaning.
          Suddenly he felt a surge of energy! Oh, the power he felt! His whole body was full of the unholy energy. The blissful pleasure of it!
          "I AM FREE!" it screams as it breaks out of the dissolution. "CURSED BY GOD IN UNDEATH, BUT I AM FREE!"
          He awoke in a dark place. He could smell the energy of the matrix all around him. Using the new energy he burst against the walls. It felt cold as attacked it and yet he continued his furious onslaught against the ICE his former self had created. Soon chips of stone littered his tomb and in another moment he broke through. Blisters formed all over his hands as it passed through the failing defensive ICE.
          Light then streamed into his unholy place. Feeling drained of all energy, the creature feared the light and backed away. It then lied in wait for sundown and a chance at further blissful energy.

          The messenger bot passing was of a totally unfamiliar design. No matter, it's energy was a necessity in this situation. The creature attached itself to the program, and slowly began to suck out it's lifeblood. The surge of energy felt like it gave strength back to his form. Again, pure bliss. Now, to find his way out of here. He fled the forest and entered the matrix itself.
          The place looked completely unfamiliar; the entire structure of the matrix having changed in the past five years. He was still lost. He captured a few more info bots traveling through the matrix and began to try out a few old search programs. He traveled down a broad boulevard, looking for a roadsign. Industry lane, full of bright lights and thousands of icons and data packets traversing the area. However off in the horizon he spied the coming sun which functioned as the only visual clue to the time of day in a given area. Sunrise was approaching Denver.

          He zigged and zagged through a maze of roads until he found an old back alley. He spied a generic icon of a human sitting among the rubble, obviously jacked into some on-line BTL program.
          The creature, hungering after more energy took the man in one fell swoop. It was almost immediately derezed as the creature co-opted its energy source. The BTL junky would awaken in the real world with a horrible headache from being forcibly dumped from the system.
          The creature then continued searching its new world. It had a chance at a second life and it planned to enjoy it! It flew through cyberspace absorbing all information feeds littering the matrix and learned and remembered programming. Feeding on this information would be its new existence. He monitored a few news sources and tried to update himself.
          Working in such stealth was quite taxing. In order to keep his strength up, he drained power from not only the system he was residing in, but also continued to waylay and drain energy from programs inside the matrix. He then rapidly developed a new tuxedo, one that better fit his current state.
          He appeared as a tall figure wearing a dark satin cape. With the hood drawn up all that could be seen of his face was a pair of glowing yellow eyes. With hood down a stern face surrounded by black hair became visible. The face was gaunt and pale, almost bloodless in appearance. Quickly he rebuilt an arsenal of programs. For effect he would drain the energy from a program with a carefully constructed set of fangs.
          He added programs such as his gaseous form and charm with his eyes. Then he began to create a set of minions to do his deeds. His rats and bats began traveling across the matrix, returning invaluable data to him. Many would fail to return, so he would constantly develop more advanced programs. He capped it all off with a new name... Count Vladimir the Impaler was born. The matrix began to get dangerous in the back alleys and byways.