Chapter 9, Part 1 - Boglin

Porphyria enjoyed the cool night air as she sat on the porch of the Discordian safe house. In the week since she had come to the city, she had come to tolerate its various eccentricities. The small but lively nyloc community in the city had come to regard Porphyria as one of their own -- due in part, no doubt, to the influence of the Golden Apple -- and Porphyria enjoyed their company.

A sudden crashing noise off to her left brought Porphyria out of her reverie and into a combat stance as she quickly engaged her psychic invisibility. Out of the darkness from the direction of the noise, a smallish, green-skinned creature came flying as it made a beeline for the door of the Discordian safe house. Damn, Porphyria thought, looks like someone's bringing trouble with them. Porphyria sighed. She had just gotten the safe house comfortable, as well. If she was forced to abandon it due to the antics of this creature, she would be quite annoyed.

Luckily, there was little sign of anything chasing the creature, as it made it to the door and quickly rushed inside, slamming the door behind it. Moments later, a pair of guardsmen came rushing around the corner, stopping and looking slightly confused as they peered around, searching for their quarry. They strolled down the road, poking piles of garbage and peering into shadows, but walked straight past the safe house without pausing. As the two guardsmen turned the corner at the other end of the street, Porphyria breathed a sigh of relief and turned to the door. It was time to see who this new guest was.

As Porphyria slipped in the door, she heard a strange, hissing voice chant in Enochian. Porphyria's future sense alerted her to oncoming danger, and she dove aside just in time to avoid an almost-solid gust of wind which screamed past her ear and slammed into the door behind her, causing it to shudder violently. In the middle of her dive, Porphyria applied psychokinetic energies to change her course and propel her towards the small figure in the darkness, who was already chanting another phrase in Enochian. Porphyria crashed into the short figure about waist-height, knocking the breath from it and disrupting its spell. Grabbing the creature by the neck, Porphyria stood and examined her catch, holding the creature at arms-length as it attempted to smile ingratiatingly.

On close inspection, the strange creature was obviously a boglin -- a race rumored to be a cross between a goblin and a slaan, which shared little of the redeeming qualities of either race. The boglin's green skin oozed a slimy moisture which reminded Porphyria unpleasantly of urine, and its homely, frog-like face showed an expression of terror behind its sickly smile. The boglin was dressed in a thigh-length, sky-colored robe that looked almost comical on the creature's skinny form. Porphyria felt little weight at the end of her arm -- the boglin obviously had the ability to levitate, and was doing so in order to avoid being choked at Porphyria's hand.

Porphyria looked into the eyes of the boglin, and threatened, "Now, there will be no more of that magic in here, understood?"

The boglin nodded cautiously, its eyes darting around, apparently searching for some means of escape.

"Good, because if I hear any language other than Anglic from you, I swear that you won't survive to get out more than two words." At that, Porphyria released the boglin's throat and smiled with amusement as it hovered in the air before her rather than dropping to the floor. "Now, I would like to know who you are, and why you came here."

The boglin gulped, rubbing its neck, "My name is Vurp, apprentice brother of the Ordo Zephyrius Mutatoris, and Discordian Legionnaire. And I'm sorry for attacking you, madam, but I thought you were a Hellhound."

Porphyria nodded slightly, replying, "No problem. My name's Porphyria, ELF guerilla," -- the boglin's eyes widened slightly as a flicker of recognition played across his face -- "Why were the Hellhounds chasing you?"

"A simple misunderstanding, mistress Porphyria. I was accused of attempting to liberate a small amount of coin from a nobleman." Vurp's eyes continued searching the room for a means of escape, even though his body was almost completely relaxed. Perhaps it was a nervous habit.

"So you're a wizard, eh?"

"Merely an apprentice, madam. I have yet a long way to go before I am able to do more than the simplest of spells, but I am learning the best that I can."

Porphyria paused for a moment, considering. "Well, you're welcome to stay here, Vurp. As long as you promise not to send any lightning bolts my way, that is."

Vurp's eyes widened, "Of course not, Lady Porphyria. Even if I could muster a lightning bolt, I would never dream of harming you. By the way, is there any food in here? I'm hungry."

"There's some in the pantry there, although I don't know how fresh it is. I usually go out to eat," Porphyria said, "You're welcome to anything you can find."

Vurp smiled happily, saying, "Thank you. I'm really hungry." The boglin climbed up on the countertop in the kitchen and began rummaging through the cabinets.

Porphyria watched as Vurp found some dried meats and fruits and began to unceremoniously devour them. Perhaps this little creature would prove useful. After all, the magi of the Ordo Zephyrius Mutatoris had potent magic when properly trained, and Porphyria felt that she could use the ally.

"How would you like a job, Vurp?" Porphyria asked the boglin once he was done shoveling a meager meal into his mouth.

"Eh? What sort of job, madam?" Vurp seemed slightly confused at the question, and appeared as if he was looking for some possibility for escape, although Porphyria assumed that this was just his general demeanor.

"You'll be helping me take over the world, of course," Porphyria laughed, only partly serious. "You'll be my assistant, and help wherever I need it."

Vurp thought for a moment, considering. The Ordo Zehyrius Mutatoris had been his life for the past dozen years, but Vurp felt that he might be able to learn much more through this infamous ELF agent and her adventures. "Fine. I'll come along with you, madam." Vurp felt that perhaps he was making a mistake, but assumed that things would work themselves out eventually, even despite the strong sense of foreboding within his gut.