Halfway through the roll, still feeling good, you realize there is something tangly between your teeth.  You fish it out, and unroll a thin strip of paper.

"Well done. You have trusted the Goddess, for it is said 'In the House of the Lady, bread will not harm you in any way.'"

A few seconds later, the table rotates off to the left, revealing a small hole and a ladder down into the dark. As you descend, you realize you can hear voices below you, voices that are all too familar, that plot your destruction...

Cain, The Snake, BB, Liam, and more, even the Eaters from Karigen are all waiting for you at the bottom of the ladder.

   I looked at my enemies assembled in front of me.  Strangely, I wasn't afraid.  I should have been withdrawing to a more advantageous position, or to put it a different way, running like the wind.  But I didn't.  The silence was deafening.  I called out.  "I am Misty the Gray.  I stand in the shadow to protect those in the Light from those in the Darkness.  I fear no man.  I fear no beast.  I fear no evil.  I am a warrior of hope and I stand protected by the power of Ceres."

   I snaked my hand under my jacket to draw... a long, glowing sword.  I held it before me in what was probably the middle ages version of a Weaver combat stance.  It felt... natural.  It felt right.  "Each of you have taken your best shots at me and it wasn't enough then.  You are all together now, but I'm not alone any more.  I work for the Goddess Ceres and you should have brought more guys."

They all fade into mist, but for B.B..

"One hundred ten of us wait for you, and of them are the nine that were ten, and the three.  You will die, and worse than that, for you will open the door to uncounted worlds to me and my brethren with your blood. This city will burn in the flame that cannot be seen, and if you had not come none of this would have happened. Go to the Martini Mansion, and accept the wrath of the Old Man, and these dooms will not happen. Surrender and leave in peace for another world."

   I laughed at B.B.  "You just don't get it do you.  The Goddess Ceres in all about nurturing... growth...  care...  love...  I've seen it in the way her people take care of each other.  I've seen it in the way her people help others in trouble or in need.  I've seen it in the way they have helped me."

   "I've seen your kind of power too many times before.  I've fought against your kind of power my entire life and I've learned something you don't know.  Hate cannot conquer love.  Fear cannot conquer love.  Evil cannot conquer love.  Love always wins.  Every.  Single.  Time.  You've already lost and you don't even know it."

   I pointed my Glocksword at him.  "Now go away.  This is a Temple of Ceres and your kind have no place here."

He fades into mist as well.

And the light from the sword grows until it fills the room, and reveals many statues along the wall.

You look to your left, and see a statue of a man with a plough in his hand.  Next to him is another statue of someone stooping over the ground.  And then another statue of a man really bending his back into it as he ploughs.  Then there is a man with a bag who is casting out seeds.   Then a man with strings and sticks to mark the lines of seeds.  Then a man with a stick with sturdy spikes attached to it.  Then a man with a shovel.

Then a woman with a hoe in her hands.

Its a crude looking thing.  A short handle, a small bit or iron.  Working with it would have been back-breaking labor.

...My city needs weeding, Subruncinator.

   The Goddess Ceres just spoke to me.  I didn't need to look up what the job description of Subruncinator entailed.  I've already been doing it for a long time.

   I stood in awe looking at the statues.  They seemed to represent the various jobs involved in growing wheat.  I moved to stand before the woman with the hoe.  The details on the statue were incredible.  Her face wore an expression the meaning of which I could only guess... satisfied exhaustion?

   I spoke to the statue.  "I need to borrow your hoe for a while.  I will take good care of it."  Then I reached out to take the hoe from the statue.

It slides easily out of the statue's fingers.

And you understand it.

+20 to offensive Ceresian holy magic.
+10 to defensive Ceresian holy magic.
Fatal damage to Unnatural abhorrent physical entities on contact as a bonus to regular damage.
Grants authority over lesser spirits such as genius loci, family ghosts, and cerealmen.
Cause Fear RS for relative success divided by 10 over shades, smogs, darklings, and banes.
It is thousands of years old, and moderately fragile.  It is fine for normal use, but having a steamroller go over would definitely crush it.

A door opens in the wall, and you take the stairs up to the main level and exit from another wheat stalk shaped pillar to a marble floor and pillars all about.  May is waiting for you.  She stands, but the dozen other priestesses with her bow.

"Welcome Subruncinator."

   Maybe I do need to look up what the job description of Subruncinator entails, at that.

   I moved to stand before May.  "I'm uhhh... not from here originally and I don't know all of the right protocols, but I do know that I have a great deal to learn.  Would you teach me what I need to save your city, please?"

She dismisses the rest, except for one who she tells to go get a sheaf of wheat.  The one dismissed looks dismayed.  When she comes back, she hands the sheaf to May, and walks twenty feet over between two pillars and then beyond them.  She then sighs.

"This is good for character, Arabella."
"Thank you, High Priestess."

May tosses ten stalks of wheat between the two pillars, says a few words in a low mutter, and then makes a coaxing hand gesture.

Arabella comes running at a full tilt toward you, and as she comes between the two pillars she bounces off.

Then she tries again, this time with a knife out.  This time she comes through without difficulty, and skids to a halt before she can injure anyone.

"This is the first of the Wards of Wheat, barriers to various things.  It can be defeated by someone with enough strength, or nullified with a sharp weapon in hand.  It is a simple defensive spell."

She begins to show you how to do this....

   Somewhere between my being in the lower level of the temple and my being here, the glowing sword had changed back into my Glock.  I had forgotten that I was still holding it.  I slipped my pistol back into its holster.

   I paid close attention to May.  Philly depended on it.  This is kind of like being a private detective.  You have to get the basics down, like collecting evidence and interviewing suspects, before you progress to the advanced material, like withholding evidence from the police and making snappy comebacks to thugs.

   As I practiced the spell, I asked my usual annoying questions.  If I'm betting my life on this, I need to know all the details of how it works.  "Is it ten stalks only?  Would using twelve stalks make the barrier stronger?"

"Its either ten, or one per foot of space covered.  The second is stronger. Putting more doesn't help."

You practise this for an hour.

Arabella leaves and comes back with a heavily padded overgarment.

"Now attack."  And May takes out a stalk, twirls it in her finger, kisses it, and speaks some words. Then she touches Arabella with the stalk which breaks, and she gets knocked off her feet. Arabella gets to her feet muttering something about 'evil old monster'.

"My eyes don't work, but my hearing is fine, Arabella." May says.

   I was just getting the Wheat Wall Ward down when we changed to the attack form.  It seemed like a pretty good close up move.  While I'm generally more of a ranged type of person, close up magic was important to know.

   I felt a little sorry for Arabella.  She didn't volunteer to be a punching bag.  I spend a couple of minutes showing Arabella how to roll with the hit.  I showed her by doing it a couple of times myself, then helping her figure the technique out for herself.  I smiled at her.  "Getting hit happens.  Hitting the floor doesn't have to."

   I got to work learning the attack form.  I know that I need to take these baby steps, but I also know that I'm in the middle of a marathon.

Getting hit by the stalk feels like someone took a foam padded baseball bat and got a first base hit on your stomach.  It combines a soft, non bone breaking, but solid force with a shove.  You're going to have some bruises.

The next spell is a trap.  The high priestess tosses a handful of wheat down, bends over, touches it, mutters some words, and walks away.  Arabella steps on it, and suddenly the stalks animate, and tie themselves around her ankles.

Arabella is able to free herself by sitting down, and tearing at the stalks with her hands, but it takes twenty seconds, and she knows what she is doing. Someone stronger or with a knife who was similarly knowledgeable would get out quicker.

"This Wheat Bind can last for five minutes sitting or tying." May says.  She shows you how this works by having Arabella time it, and at 4:30 May entangles herself.  She then just stands there for thirty more seconds, and the entangle falls to the ground as a twisted mass.

You've studied for three hours, and May announces she needs to rest.

   Truth be told, I can use a break as well.  The inside of my brain feels as if it has been sandblasted with pea gravel.  Being a conduit through which the energy flows is harder than it looks.  I make a point of thanking Arabella for her help because being used as a test subject for basic combat spell training can't be easy.

Arabella sighed.
"I forgot to clean the bathroom."

You gradually realize that that is all the lessons for the day as Arabella drifts off.  Checking reveals that May will probably be able to help you tommorrow.  Feeling weary and drained in a way that you are not accustomed too, but you have the memory of the sheer thrill of magic you've participated in to help.  Feeling that power moving  is like listening to music, but totally different.

   I thanked May for her help and asked when a good time would be to come back tomorrow for my next lesson.  I also checked to see if it would be all right to get something to eat before I headed out.

   The better part of the day was gone by the time I left the temple.  It was a day well spent, though.  I arranged for some additional ammo and learned about the local grenades.  I also picked up a brand new job description, the beginnings of some serious combat magics, and an ancient relic of power borrowed from the Goddess herself.  Now it was time to go earn the title.

   I went to the lawyer's office by taking the long way around town to shake any tails.  I laid down to get a little sleep before seeing what mischief I could get into tonight.

May tells you noon, and you're able to get heavy nutbread smeared with butter and dripping with honey as a snack.

You try to go to sleep, but you can't, not until you take that garden implement to bed with you.  And then you doze.

Later, in the night, you wake....

   I looked at the ancient implement carefully.  It needed a name.  A lot of the good heroes had named weapons.  Mike Hammer had Betsy.  Thor had Mjölnir.  Nicholas J. Huntington Carter had Wilhelmina, Hugo, and Pierre.  Actually, the Killmaster gave pet names pretty much everything, so he doesn't really count.  I'll have to work on this naming thing later.  Maybe May can tell me if the hoe already has a name.

   I had spent so much time at the temple, I didn't make any recons to see about new targets.  Still, I had a couple of options.  One of them was designed to take away a revenue source of the Martini mob.  The other would just make them angry.  I liked both options and I had some time to kill before my next lesson.

   I geared up in the same fashion as my last evening outing, supersuit, weapon harness with the addition of the suppressed thirty on my left thigh and its two spare mags on my belt.  I tucked my snapstick into my pack, then slid the artifact into the empty cylindrical holster to see how it fit.  The artifact was a bit longer than my collapsed striking baton, but somehow it fit perfectly.  I adjusted the holster to ride a bit lower on my thigh to compensate for the length.  My final addition was to slip the new black day pack on my back.  Then I took it back off just long enough to remove the price and product tags from it.  I was almost ready to go out for the evening.

   I ate some cold hash, then added several grenades to a gym bag.  I took four fragmentation, four incendiary, two smoke, and two tear gas grenades.  I planned on making a mess and wanted to have enough material along to do a good job.  I put on my trench coat and hat.  It was time to pay my disrespects to the Martinis again.  My first stop was going to be to take out their favorite restaurant.

It occurs to you that you could go with Hewer of Evil, or HOE for short.

You drive past Delmonico's, and its dark.  You check some more, and realize there is no one in there.  Hoping there is no dog, you pick the lock.

Its simple.

No alarms, no snarling Doberman or German Shepherd greets you.

It looks like the Martinis are depending on their reputation to deter anyone from breaking in.

You step into the tile covered entranceway of the over-decorated, plush heavy restaraunt.  A bar is in front of you.  Off to the right is a general dining area.  To the left is a smaller area guarded by a low wooden railing.

With the lights out you can't see much more.

   I went back out to the car to get the multivisor and the bag of grenades.  I set the visor to low light and went back into Delmonicos.  I looked around the restaurant.  From what I could see, this was a pretty fancy place, lots of wood, comfortable chairs, more like a private club than a public eatery.

   I looked around for the office and their safe.  Any important papers would be kept there and so would their operational cash.  I wasn't sure which one would hurt them more, so I planned on taking them both.  The office was relatively small.  The safe wasn't.  It was a big metal monstrosity that took up a lot of the corner it was placed in.  I hoped that whatever they kept in it was worth the trouble it would take a safe cracker to open it.  I wasn't worried about the safe.  It has hinges and I have a particle blaster.

You're not familiar with the local alcohol, but the bottles behind the bar look expensive.

Most of the floor is black and white marble except for near the front.  There are few windows, and they're not made for looking out.

The particle blaster hums four times before you have a hole in the gray metal of the safe.  That is definitely going to puzzle them in the morning.

Being careful not to burn your arm, you jiggle the release, and the door swings open.

Inside, a few of the papers nearest the hole have started to brown.

On top of them is a small metal box, a velvet bag, another wooden box, and a magnetic audio tape.

Inside the box is eight thousand pounds.

The bag has stones.  Your stones.  One is missing.

The wooden box has cigars in it.

The papers detail operations over the last week.  Much is in code.  Much isn't.  Glancing through it, you're not seeing 'List of Cops on the Take' but a lot of lesser data.

   This is going to hurt the Martinis at least a little.  I stuff my day pack with the bag of my recovered gems, the money, the papers, and if there's room, the box of cigars.  Phase one, evidence gathering, is over.  Now it's time for phase two, breaking things.

   I put my full day pack on and opened the gym bag.  I did the goofy grenade routine putting an incendiary grenade into the kitchen by the stoves.  I removed the multivisor and clipped it to my harness.  There was more than enough light to see now.  I ducked quickly into the main room where I snagged the gym bag and headed toward the front door.  I did the same trick with a frag grenade behind the bar, then ducked out of the way before it went off.  I followed it up with another incendiary grenade, grabbed my gym bag, then got out of Dodge before the whole place went up.

   I took the long way back to the lawyer's office.  I had a lot of information to go over.  The brothel could wait until tomorrow night.  I took my artifact and security blanket with me and got some sleep.  Tomorrow was going to be another busy day.

A wash of heat swats your back gently as you go out the front door accompanied by a WHOOF as dozens of bottles of high proof alcohol burst into flame.  As you drive away, you can see the flames climb into the sky above the roof just a bit...

BOOM.

The gas line just went.

You drive away with a warm feeling that Delmonico's is toast, heavily burnt toast.  Unless the tech for firefighting is way better than you expect, the place is going to burn to the ground.

Next morning, in the pub over breakfast, you watch the news.  Its a blackened mess with just one wall left partially standing, and the stove a melted mass.

The police sergeant says 'It was clearly arson.  We have what we think are three ignition points.  We believe this may be what is called an 'outatowner', a professional arsonist.  Unfortunately, the fire was so hot that any evidence was most likely destroyed although we will be going over this very carefully."

+@1 Grenade use.

   One of the first things I did this morning was to dye my hair a dark brown.  A stranger seemed to be looking at me when I looked in the mirror.  That was a good thing.  If I didn't recognize myself, maybe no one else would either, especially if the lookers were trying to connect a mystery blonde with their recent losses.

   I dressed in my business attire today.  I wore the twin thirty rig under my oversized sweater.  It wasn't as bulky as my Glock rig.  There were a few more things that I needed and I wanted to blend in as much as possible when going to get them.  I grabbed five hundred pounds for shopping and incidentals.  I also added another of my gems to the velvet bag before tucking it in my pocket.

   Breakfast was both filling and informative.  Even though I didn't thin their ranks any last night, I must have hurt the Martinis reputation by destroying their little clubhouse.  I knew that the easy strikes were over.  The Martinis were going to be getting serious now.  I had shown them that they weren't the highest link on the food chain and I doubted that they were pleased with that knowledge.

   I stopped by an office supply store to pick up four large, average looking briefcases.  Then I went back to the lawyer's office to pack the documents from Delmonicos into one of them.  By shuffling the papers around, I managed to fit the box of cigars into the case and still get it closed.  I headed out to pay the Steel Baronet a visit, briefcase in hand.

There is a certain tenseness in peoples' faces as they have begun to realize something serious is going down.  However, you don't hear any hopes expressed for the Martinis success.  And you see two groups of thugs, they used to go about two by two, but now its three by three.  Furthermore, they seem on the surface angry, but you can see a fear and a twitchiness behind it.

The Steel Baronet's secretary gives you a doubletake as the hair color change confuses her for a second.  Then she sends you in.

In his actual office there is a model of a bridge on his desk.

"The City Council wants to build a bridge across the harbor.  They are trying to convince me to sell them the steel at cost as a gesture of friendship.  I told one of them, in confidence, that if he hung all the Martinis from the suspension cables, I'd do it.  But I'm not picky. Bullets. Fire. Heh, I'll accept them choking on fish and chips."

He gets up and asks if you want whiskey or tea.

"Well done, so far, Sword."