New Snippet: The Debriefing

 Ahres looked around the conference room, currently occupied by all of the facility personnel that recently had their lives changed, when they gained, or were made aware of, the abilities they now possessed, and he had spent the last couple of months training in the use of those abilities.  The setting, and expectant looks of those present, reminded him of the number of times he had done this before during his very long life.  He took one last look around the table, meeting the eyes of everyone assembled that could be seen, and then began speaking.

 “During the last two months, I have worked with each of you, helping you discover and understand the abilities each of you posses, learning your current limits, and what you may eventually be capable of.  You have evolved from being unsure and frightened individuals, into a team with confidence in themselves and the ability to work together, reducing the chances of “friendly fire” incidences.”

 Serena Elders shifted uncomfortably in her seat.  She was responsible for one of the “friendly fire” incidences that Ahres referenced.  Due to a lack of communication, one of her teammates was rendered unconscious by her sonic power, when she jumped in front of Serena during a training exercise.  No permanent harm was done, but Serena still berated herself for it having happened.

 “I feel that you are ready for some real world experience,” Ahres continued, “but you have some decisions to make before you do.”

 “Like what?” asked Lucy “Lucky” Lovelace, one of the team’s best front line combatants.

 “Like how you wish to use your abilities,” responded Ahres, “and how far ranging you wish to go.”

 “What exactly do you mean by ‘far ranging’?” the disembodied voice of Dr Milo Tarquin asked.

 A reply came from the facility’s owner, and Dr Tarquin’s employer.  “I believe our ancient friend is asking where we wish to operate, how much territory we will cover, as well as in what capacity we will operate.”

 Ahres nodded in agreement.  “Correct Mr McCullond.  Those are all important and necessary decisions that need to be made before you go on your first mission.  But before you make those decisions; there are a few things I wish to mention, which I think will influence those decisions.”

 “Firstly,” he began, “I want to point out something I have noticed about your collective skill set.  From what I have seen, you, as a team, seem best suited for two areas of expertise.  The first is espionage.  Between your abilities to control the intensity of light and shadows, move unseen, and manipulate sound, you would excel in that area.  The technical expertise some of you have supports that, in more ways than one.  Doctor Tarquin’s non-corporeal state and ability to possess people, also helps in that field.”

 “The other possible area of expertise,” continued Ahres, “is that of assassination.”

 Upon the finishing of that sentence, the feel of the room changed.  Shock, surprise and horror were the dominant emotions flashing across the gathered faces, with more than a little uncomfortable shifting in place.

 “Fuck that shit!” came an outburst from Lucky, “I don’t do wet work!”

 Ahres turned to look at her and replied, “I never said you had to, Lucky, I was merely pointing out what the team’s collective skill set was suited for.  The choice in how you, as a group, operate is ultimately up to you as a team.”

 Lucky shifted in her seat, nodded her head, looking mollified.

 Ahres took a breath, and continued.

 “There is something else I feel is important for me to point out, and that is how you can expect the reaction to your existence to be.”

 “Judging by the tone of your voice, I gather you are not going to say something positive here,” interrupted Doctor Timothy Talon.

 “No, Doctor, I am not.  On average, humanity tends to fear what it finds different, or does not understand, and that fear generally turns to jealousy, hate and a need to control.”

 “With most of us having powers that are, when used, obvious in nature, we are most definitely ‘different’.  For those of us that are ‘otherworldly’ in origin, the reactions will be even stronger.  With that in mind, I suggest operating as quietly and ‘under the radar’ as you can.  We exist in a world of social media, and everyone and their dog has some type of digital audio-visual recording device, and connection to the Internet is almost guaranteed for the average citizen.  It will be only a matter of time before we, as individuals or a team, become noticed.”

 Looking hopefully at Ahres, Erica Borg, the team’s magic wielder, finally spoke up.

 “You just said ‘we’.  So you will be joining us then?”

 Nodding his head, Ahres replied, “Yes.  I can fulfill a number of roles on missions, including air support, as well as provide tactical advice.  I am not planning on taking a leadership role, unless absolutely necessary, as you already have a command structure.  Otherwise, I will continue to be your instructor, sparring partner and advisor.”

 “Well now, that gives us all quite a bit to think about,” began the facility’s owner, Storm McCullond.  “Perhaps we should take some time to let that sink in, and think about what our ultimate decision will be, at least for how we start.  Meanwhile, we should get back to work, and pretend things are normal around here, and it is just another day that ends in ‘y’.”

New Snippet: Ravenloft - The Hunt

 Nothing was ever what it seemed in the Land of Mists, and things in the city of Pont-a-Museau, in the realm of Richmulot was no exception.

Almost all of the shadows and dark places of Pont-a-Museau held things dangerous to the folk of the city.  Many of the dangers were due to the unsafe conditions of the buildings used as dwellings by the poor and the destitute.  Rotting wood and crumbling masonry threatened to collapse under or on to someone at any moment, and clogged chimneys and malfunctioning flues had the potential to set buildings afire, or force smoke and toxic fumes into an enclosed space.  The other dangers hiding in the city’s shadows were those posed by living residents, and some residents that were un-living.

Screams in the night were a common occurrence, and an uncommon one during the day.  The citizens of Pont-a-Museau tended ignored the sounds, unless they were members of the Watch or adventurers, and usually pitied the victim and were thankful it was not them screaming.  Some citizens ignored the screams because they just did not care.  Those that preyed upon the common folk tended to rely upon this behaviour to be able to hunt, corner and pounce upon their victims, without any unwanted interruptions.

It was with this in mind that Jaufres found himself prowling the streets and alleyways of the city, searching for his next meal.  Hunting for victims was relatively easy for him and his fellow wererats, being able to walk around in the form of either an ordinary citizen, that of a rat the size of a cat or small dog, or the horrific amalgamation of person and rat.  Rats, including the giant or “dire” versions, were common sites in almost all areas of the city, so they tended to be ignored (by habit or on purpose) by those around them.  Because of this, Jaufres felt safe and secure on his hunt.

He should have been paying more attention to the shadows he used to conceal himself, as something else was hunting him.

Flowing from shadow to shadow, footsteps making barely a whisper of sound, identity concealed by dark cloth and ash, Jaufres’ stalker waited for the right time to move with the patience of the dead.

The victim of the night for the lycanthrope was a tavern server that Jaufres had been watching for about a week’s time.  He and the rest of his extended family were suffering from attacks by a skilled hunter, and he wanted to make sure that his next meal was not somehow connected to the assassin.  The nights he spent following her showed she always took the same path, with one particular section of an alleyway that was perfect for him to make his move.  Taking a pre-planned short cut, the wererat arrived at his chosen spot with a minute or so to spare.

Just as the woman reached about the half-way point in the alley, he silently moved in behind her.  Reaching out to grab her well-worn cloak, Jaufres felt a sudden burning pain along his back, causing him to hiss in pain as he spun around.  He came face to face with the darkly clothed shadow that had been following him.  It stood at the ready in a combat stance, a short sword held in each hand, one of them with a thin line of blood along a short section of the cutting edge.  Jaufres knew the blades to be either coated with silver, or magically enchanted; otherwise they would not have been able to injure him.

The wererat’s victim turned at the sound of pain.  Gasping in horror at the scene before her, she raised one hand to her mouth to stifle a scream.  The dark sword wielding figure moved its head slightly, giving the impression of facing her.

“Run!” the figure commanded, and the woman turned and ran for home, as if her very soul depended upon it.

“You are the one that has been hunting my family,” Jaufres flatly stated, lunging at his assailant.

“I am,” was the unconcerned reply, blades flashing in response to the creature’s attack.

Unbeknownst to all involved, a small group of rats watched the ensuing battle from the nearby shadows, exhibiting no apparent concern for their own safety.  Had anyone had the chance to observe them, though, they would have been more horrified of them than of the two nearby figures locked in a fight to the death.  As the rats watched the battle intently, their heads moved, eyes blinked, and tails and paws twitched in unison, each and every time, as if they shared one mind, or were controlled by one.

Nothing was ever what it seemed in the Land of Mists.

Finally, the Snippets

 Although I am not posting this as soon as I origianally mentioned I would, here is the first of three story snippets I have ready to share, showcasing what I can do writing, as opposed to my usual visual medium of 3D renders.  This first one is currently entitled "Ravenloft Snippet - Eludicia".  I hope you enjoy it!

The spot chosen for this evening’s camp was adequate, if not acceptable.  The pilgrims were unable to reach their intended camp site, due to one of their few wagons needing some repairs.  The teamsters were preparing to see to that, while everyone else saw to their regular duties.  Whilst this was going on, Eludicia of the Road, a fledgling Paladin, wandered among the people she decided to accompany, in order to help them reach the end of their journey as safely as possible.  Smiles, waves and greetings were exchanged while she meandered through the site, helping out with setting things up when needed, offering suggestions for placements, and looking for the best spots for those on watch to position themselves.

 

Although a novice adventurer, Eludicia seemed wise beyond her apparent youth, and most of the people under her care deferred to her judgement.  When the pilgrims’ leadership offered her a place on their council, she declined, saying that she was there to help ensure the good of the pilgrims, not decide upon what was good for the pilgrims.  A few of the leaders were quite happy to hear that.

 

Suddenly, there came a crash and a scream of pain, followed by calls for aid.  Eludicia rushed off to find that the damaged wagon had fallen onto one of the teamsters working on it, and he was now trapped underneath.  The others were trying to hoist the wagon off of the unfortunate pilgrim, but were not able to get quite enough hands on it to raise it far enough to pull the man out.

 

“You and you”, Eludicia pointed to those closest to the injured man, “Be ready to pull him away when the wagon is high enough!”  Looking at one of the men trying to lift the wagon, she said “Kindly step aside and let me take your place!  The rest of you, pray!”  Space was made for the tall, muscular holy warrior to get a grip on the toppled wagon.

 

“Alright,” she shouted, “lift!”

 

With groans from all those lifting, the wagon rose far enough to pull the trapped man free. As he was freed of the weight of the still loaded wagon, another scream of pain escaped his lips, and he passed out almost immediately.  The wagon was quickly set back on the ground, and Eludicia knelt beside the unconscious pilgrim.  Taking his hands in hers, she closed her eyes and prayed.  Only a few syllables had passed her lips, and she could feel the divine energy coalesce inside her, and transfer into the man, healing him of most of his injuries.

 

Standing back up, Eludicia addressed those around her.

“He should finish the journey in one of the wagons or carts, so there is no risk of him injuring himself further.  For now, make him as comfortable as you can.”

Looking at the other teamsters, she continued, “Please, I beg you all to be more careful.  I am currently limited in what I can offer each day in healing.”  She smiled at them all, as they nodded and murmured their assent.  After that, Eludicia began a perimeter check of the camp, verified the rotation of the watch and spent some time socializing with the pilgrims.  Having originated in the Outer Planes, the novice Paladin had very little in common with her charges, but believed it was best to be a friendly, approachable member of the group, rather than a silent and stoic guardian.

 

Finished with her rounds, Eludicia moved to what she believed was the approximate centre of the camp to prepare for her nightly observances.  Once again, she knelt upon the ground, placing her glaive beside herself on her right, removed her travel pack and great sword from her back, placing the former in front of her, and the latter to her left.  Although it was uncomfortable to remain kneeling in her armour, the holy warrior made no move to divest herself of its unyielding parts.  Eludicia accepted the discomfort as a mild form of penance for the evil she committed before starting to walk the long, lonely road of redemption.  To further add to her penance, Eludicia would remain like this through the night while she prayed: prayed for guidance and strength on her road of redemption, and for the safety and forgiveness of the pilgrims she protected on their journey.

 

As an Outsider, Eludicia had a number of abilities she could rely on to help with her protection over the pilgrims, one of which was the ability to read the surface thoughts of any intelligent creature within thirty paces of her.  Before becoming a Paladin, she would have used this to search the minds of her victims, to find things that would make it easier for her to ensnare them in her web.  She now considered touching the minds of those that were not her enemies, without permission, to be a sin.  So, while she prayed during the night, she cast a part of her mind out near the edges of the camp to be aware of the state of those on watch, and to search for any minds that intended harm to the pilgrims.  This tactic caused more than a few bandits to regret their choice to attack those under Eludicia’s protection.

 

A few hours after the rise of the gibbous moon, something touched the edge of Eludicia’s awareness.  It was faint, but there.  Halting mid-prayer, Eludicia focused more on where the intrusion was.  She interpreted it as a susurrus of quiet whispers, speaking in multiple languages, almost daring the novice Paladin to find them.  Eludecia reached for her glaive while quickly reaching out to the minds of the pilgrims around her, to see if they were aware of the whispers as well, or if any of them were in need.  What she learned, was the minds of the pilgrims were becoming quiet, as if they were voices of people walking away from her.

 

Alarmed, Eludicia’s eyes flew open as she set her glaive butt-first on the ground, in preparation to help her stand.  What she saw caused her to suck in a breath of air.  She could no longer see the camp or pilgrims around her.  Instead was a thickening, cloying mist, which seemingly moved with purpose around her.  The susurrus of whispers she sensed with her mind was now audible enough for her to hear.  She began to discern sobs, screams and laughter mixed in with the various words and phrases.  Although the moon was obscured by the dense cloud enveloping her, Eludicia’s sharp eyes still made out whorls and eddies in the unnatural fog, seemingly indicating something moving nearby, even though her telepathy could find nothing there.

 

Eludicia was about to call out to challenge whomever or whatever was there, but stopped on forming the first word.  There was a subtle, yet verifiable sensation passing through her, one that, as a creature of the Outerplanes, she was intimately familiar with: the crossing of a planar boundary.  She was now beyond the reach of the pilgrims she promised to protect.

 

Reaching down, she found the pack and blade in the obscuring mist.  Grasping them and tightening her grasp on the glaive, she pictured the camp in her mind, and focused on opening a doorway back to the camp.

 

The door refused to form for her.  It was being blocked by a more powerful entity.

 

The laughter of a crowd of voices made itself heard, in varying intensities, and ranging from maniacal, to dark to that of the mad.

 

“Wanting to leave so soon, little fiend?” seemingly asked the mist itself.  “Stay and play with us awhile.  We promise to draw the game out as long as possible….”

 

As the laughter began again, Eludicia’s eyes went wide, and she froze as still as a stone statue.  Fear took root inside the Paladin, as she once again felt the subtle sensation of crossing a planar boundary, this time, possibly returning her to the very realms that birthed her.  If so, she knew her welcome would not be a pleasant one, to say the least.