DarthMRN on 20/2/2005 at 13:31

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The end is near... :(
(sigh)

I wish there could be a grand lightsaber battle between Gamall and Garrett at the end, but this is Thief after all. Oh well...

Yos on 21/2/2005 at 14:50

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Somebody has some odd ideas of who museum guests should be... :joke:

Quality stuff right to the end, good work. :thumb:

fett on 23/2/2005 at 05:33

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Chapter 21 – Awedude Plaza – 3:54am

I’ve got a new headline for tomorrow’s paper: “Museum bores master-thief to death. New security system sucks.” Seriously, I have a harder time breaking into my apartment building.
Turns out Elvis wasn’t there – I really don’t want to know what he’s been doing all night – probably eating banana sandwiches and shooting television sets. In any case, all five artifacts are in my hands. Now to meet up with Artemus in Stoner’s Market Plaza. Time to get this over with and get on with my life…”

Artemus met Garrett halfway across Awedude Plaza.

“Artemus, what are you doing here?”

“Garrett, I’ve figured it all out…the artifacts – give them to me, and I will show you all the answers.”

“Huh? Is this more of that Jedi stuff? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, it doesn’t work that well…and why does your voice sound all funky?”

Footsteps echoed across the Plaza and Orlando came running up.

“Artemus…and Garrett! I’m glad that I caught up with you. Did either of you take some of the Monopoly pieces? This is urgent!

“We do not have any Monopoly pieces Orlando. Go back to the compound.”

“Keeper Mortimer has challenged me to a game of Monopoly and the shoe and wheelbarrow are missing! I cannot let that challenge stand Artemus!”

“Go back to the library Orlando!” Artemus’ voice took on a threatening edge.

“Garrett! I beg of you! You are master thief. Perhaps you could steal some Monopoly pieces from someone else’s game?”

Artemus began to transform before Garrett’s eyes. Sideburns elongated, the collar of his shirt grew exponentially until it almost touched his ears. He grew two feet taller as his boots morphed into platform shoes.

“Ah said, I’m about tired a yore meddlin’ Orlando!” He began shaking his pelvis menacingly at him. Orlando stared in horror, transfixed by the thrusting and grinding. “Every time ah try to make a comeback, yore games get in ma way. But not this time. I had ta use Artemus’ pants to disguise maself, and now I’m gonna brag a little bit and make a short speech, while Garrett slips off into tha shadows.”

The pelvis of Elvis was virtually in orbit not three feet from Orlando who was frozen in place.

Then the singing began.

“VIVA LAS VEGAS!!! VIVA LAS VEGAS!!! VIVAAAA!!! VIIIVVAAAAA LAS VEGAAAAAAAASSSS!!!!!!

Orlando was dead before he hit the ground.

“Okedokey Garrett, you kin hide, but I’ll find ya. Ma stone warriors have a million legs and eyes or something. I’ll make ma comeback, and you won’t stop me.”

Garrett couldn’t remember how he got to the rooftop overlooking the plaza but cursed himself – it would be impossible to get down from here without attracting the attention of Elvis’ stone bodyguards roaming around the place now.

He somehow made it over to the Bradshaw monument, and found Elvis pacing around talking to himself. The sign above the monument read:

[indent]This monument in honor of Terry Bradshaw, who, though a football player, was dumber than Keanu Reeves…dude.[/indent]

What the hell kind of name is ‘Keanu’?

He placed the Burrick’s Heart in the bowl between the statues.

One down four to go.

Garrett didn’t relish the idea of getting back to the blue mist separating him from Pretty Old Quarter…then he remembered that his blackjack worked wonders against the stone creeps.

He rode the Lens down the stairs and sloped street as it complained loudly. He left piles of rubble in his wake when a statue got close enough to nail with the blackjack. Down the last staircase and into the blue mist.

Pretty Old Quarter – 4:15am

Ft. Ironweed proved difficult to reach, but Garrett finally found some use for the twelve feet of the Thieves Highway left in the district. The only trouble was trying to use his limbs with the giant Lens thrown over his shoulder. His steady supply of water arrows kept it moist, but also made it slippery to handle. Good thing he had the sticky climbing gloves. The Lens never let up complaining about scratching and tearing. He mostly ignored it and was able to bypass the chaos in the street and get to the cemetery behind Ft. Ironweed without being seen.

There was Elvis! But he had just been in Awdude not 10 minutes ago!

Garrett looked closer…was it really Elvis? The sideburns and the outfit looked the same…but wait…this ‘Elvis’ looked a little shorter. And he wasn’t quite as chubby.

An impersonator? What kind of sad life would lead someone to impersonate that monster?

He crept to the monument and placed the Spittoon carefully upon it. The sign read:

[indent]The Cataclysm Memorial
For the hundreds who lost their lives in the Cataclysm for which we cannot remember the cause. Hopefully that doesn’t happen again.[/indent]

That’s the City historians for you…

He headed for Stoner’s Market.

Stoner’s Market – 4:23am

He stepped from the mist as the Lens started babbling again.

“Did they ttttttttttell you where to put all this stufffffffffff, your Keeper fffffffffffriends? If you get it mixed up, you could rrrrrrrrrrelease untold evil on the Cccccccccccity. Imagine Elvvvvvvvvvvvvis songs drifffffffffffffting through the homes and streeeeeeeeeeets, fffffffffffffffilling the jukeboxes, dominating the rrrrrrrrrrrrrradio.”

Garrett suppressed a shudder. There was much at stake. “Why are you talking like that?”

“That’sssss the way I talk littttttle mannnn.”

“I wish you’d stop it.”

“I wish you’d stop pretending I was a boogie board. We don’t always get what we wish for.”

Fair enough

When it spoke again, the hissing was toned down a bit, “Ssssssssso how do you know where to put the stufffffffff?”

“I just know.”

“You jjjjjjjjust know? You’d bbbbbbbbettttttter be ssssssure you know, Cccccyclops boy.”

“I know where to put them ok?”

“Hhhhhhhhhow?”

Garrett considered for a moment… “Not really sure. I get to the spot and the right artifact just seems to appear in my hands.”

“You don’t tttttthink that sssssssssstrange?”

“Buddy, if I told you about all the illogical, nonsensical stuff I’ve had to do in the last few days, nothing would sound strange to you.”

That seemed to satisfy the Lens for a time.

The streets of Stoner’s Market were an absolute slaughter ground. Pagans killing Hammers, Guards killing citizens, Elvis shaking his groin at people. The carnage was staggering.

I’d pilfer all the loot off the dead bodies, but I could have retired two days ago with everything I’ve stolen.

He made it to the Clocktower and mounted the Jackelope’s Paw next to the door.

“I thought the Jackelopes Paw was a Pagan artifact!” protested the Lens, “Why does it go on a Hammer building?”

“I’ve found it’s just better not to think about those kind of things,” replied Garrett.

As always, he had to go through Southtowne to get to the Docks. Another Elvis impersonator stalked around outside of his apartment by the fountain. Actually, this guy looked like the real deal.

The Lens piped up again, “Mish mash, hissss hissss, hisssss, whisper whisper, hisssss.”

“Huh? Why are talking like that again?”

“It’s spooky – listen: Hisssss, pssssssttttt, fizzzzzzshsshssshhh.”

“I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

The Docks – 4:47am

He avoided yet another Elvis wannabe at the pier and placed the crown on the monument, being careful to stay out of the water.

The Lens had more commentary, “Ahhhh hissssss…”

“Ok, seriously, if this is important stuff that I need to hear, you’ve gotta drop the lisp,”

The Lens sighed heavily, “But I’m supposed to sound menacing.”

“You sound annoying.”

The Lens sulked for a bit then began speaking in simple monotone, “The failsafe. The last of all songs. The beginning and the end. The final…”

Garrett paid it little attention while he read the sign on the pier:

[indent]First Landing Marker
Venerates the location where the first settlers are believed to have come ashore. Whether they were Mages, Precursors, or Keepers is still being hotly debated on forum boards by nerds today.[/indent]

“…the end all of end alls. The apocalyptic ruin of…”

“Yeah yeah, I get it, the last song, blah blah blah – what about it?”

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for centuries and you’re ruining it!” the Lens pouted, “I should at least get to say the dramatic stuff or use my spooky voice!”

“Would you please spill it?!”

“Fine. But you can’t expect me to just phone it in. This is my final appearance!”

“Yeah, mine too. You don’t hear me crying about it. God knows I’ll be relieved to get this over with.”

“Oh sure, you don’t care! You’ll have no problem finding work after this! What about me? Do you know how many parts there are out there for a giant Contact Lens? Maybe a low-budget monster movie or two, possibly I could double as a giant condom, but this is basically it for me! It’s humiliating enough to be ridden around like some kind of packhorse through the streets of the City…”

“SHUTUP ALREADY!!!”

They both fumed for a few moments, then the Lens, defeated, said, “The power of the song is beyond little humans like you.”

Garrett looked down, “That’s it? That's your big dramatic annoucement? That doesn’t tell me anything!”

The Lens didn’t respond, but remained sullen. Garrett rolled his eyes and made his way back to Southtowne.

Southtowne – 5:03am

Now to ditch this stupid Contact Lens. I hope it doesn’t try to talk to me every night when I leave the house. I’ll definitely be moving…

He went on to the fountain by his apartment – he’d never noticed the little plaque at it’s base before, but now it held special interest for him:

[indent]Southtowne Fountain
Near this site, the First Stone was believed to have been laid in the building of the City. It just so happens that Garrett’s apartment is four feet to the left of it.[/indent]
Garrett averted his eyes as Elvis stalked toward him shaking his pelvis and bleating out some hideous love song while swinging his microphone around by the cable. He flopped the giant Lens into the fountain, but it stuck to his hand.

“Oh no you don’t! Let go of me!” he shouted at the Lens.

“It’s not me! You let me dry out and now we’re stuck together!”

That would be a fate worse than death Garrett decided, clenching his teeth and turning toward Elvis who was now towering over him, beer gut swinging to and fro.

Then something happened – a bright light shot out from the fountain into the sky. A beam of white hot heat shot into Garrett’s hand, branding him with an icon that looked not unlike the Eidos logo.

They won’t let me go, and they won’t let me die. Will the misery never end?

The blue Viagra light pulsed through the streets of the City putting all things right. Namely, it destroyed the loading zones.

A beautiful song rang throughout the streets, reverberating from wall to wall, across the river to the Docks. It was a beautiful song that contained neither the words ‘baby’ nor ‘honey’ in it. Then the light faded as the song died away.

Garrett looked at his hand, then looked around, if I never see another loading zone again, it will be too soon... he thought.

Garrett could just make out the form of a hunched old man down an alleyway, trying desperately to rotate his mid-section.

“Swivell! Swivell!” he cried in a broken voice as the Keepers slowly surrounded him. It was no longer Garrett’s concern. They would either kill him, or more likely, force him into an eternal game of Risk or Clue. Both served the same purpose.

.........................................................


The sun began to come up over the City.

Keepers wandered the compound, distraught.

“Where have all the ping-pong paddles gone?”

“The croquet mallets are missing too!”

“Has anyone seen my Uno card sorter?”

“How will we manipulate and use people without all of our board games?”

Garrett listened outside the door for as long as he could stand it, then poked his head in the door and yelled, "Good riddance losers!!!"

Been wanting to do that for 8 years...

And then he was gone.

.....................................................

Morning shed it’s light on the Republican National Headquarters. Senators and Moral Majority leaders alike were refreshed and inspired with new vigor upon finding their treasure returned to them.

“God Almighty has returned to us Reagan’s Spittoon! Now we shall surely hold the House AND the Senate!”

The Pagan Democrats were likewise spurred on in their liberal godlessness when the Jackelope’s Paw was returned to them.

Even the Cuckoo Clock Tower had mysteriously rebuilt itself in the night and loudly announced the dawn of a new day to the severely depleted population of the City. It would take months to remove all the corpses from the streets.

Wonder who’ll get volunteered for that grunt work. He noticed that the Keeper’s had made themselves conspicuously absent...again... Lemme guess, that would be ummmm….me

He considered it from the rooftop of the Compound throughout the night. The board games were gone, as were the superstitions and phobias involving glyphs and songs. Maybe the tradition of the Keepers should be continued. Garrett wondered what it must be like to randomly play with people’s minds and never have to take responsibility for your actions. Now that he was on the other side of the relationship, he could well understand the attraction.

He made his way through Southtowne to his apartment. A flicker from the shadows caught his attention and he grabbed the lean arm reaching for his loot bag.

“That’s not for you.”

“Please sir, I’m hungry,” the young girl pleaded.

“You have talent. It’s no easy thing to be seen by a Keeper…especially one that doesn’t wish to be seen.”

A wry smile crept onto Garrett’s face.

“Anyone ever taught you how to play Shuffleboard?”

[CENTER]THE END

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Coming Soon To ThiefGen
Broken Glass Studios Presents:
Thief: The Daft Project

May 2005
:cool:[/CENTER]

Old Man on 23/2/2005 at 10:09

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Good Stuff(tm)!

And thanks.

Pitch on 23/2/2005 at 13:05

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What a beautiful ending! I think I'm going to cry. :)