Category: Spell / Magic

#Lore24 – Entry #191 – Supers Month II #10 – Mines and Monsters

From the journal of Abigail “Sassy” Dawson, Mage of the Order of Hecate

A couple days later we’d ridden into the Black Hills area, and before long, we’d found where this thing had wanted us.  Weren’t hard to find, I suppose, considering there was a whole mining town that this thing had consumed for itself, leavin’ the bodies of the miners and townsfolk behind as mindless, walking corpses with a right fierce hunger for fresh meat.  It was grim work, but it had to be done, lest these diseased things spread their condition around the whole area.  Figure it was this demon’s plan to help tire us out before the real fight, cause while the zombies weren’t much of a threat to myself or my two ever-bickering companions, it did take us the better part of the day to clear’em out, even with Assane and Richard’s considerable magic.

We could sense the presence of the demon all over the place, and we knew exactly where it was hidin’, deep in the mines.  I never was one for the underground, and after this, I surely wouldn’t feel no better about goin’ into tight and dark places like’em.  Still, there was work to be done, and I weren’t goin’ to let a little thing like that stop me from dealin’ with that evil bastard.  We knew goin’ into the place it was gonna be dangerous, traps abound from the dynamite and sabotaged bracings and the like, no doubt.  My companions didn’t have so much to worry about if they mistepped down there, but I was under no such protections, and, as much of a handful as they are, it was rather touchin’ that they were bein’ extra careful on my account. 

Weren’t just traps in there, though; the demon had some more undead roamin’ the place, and as we got further down, some lesser demons it had called up, bunch of little imps and flyin’ things that were more or less balls of teeth that spat acid everywhere.  Was a good thing I knew some curin’ magic, cause I would’ve been right deaf before it was all said and done.  My magic reserves weren’t nothin’ like Assane’s and Richard’s, so I had to be careful with what I used up.  Not that I had a ton of powder on me at the time, so I had to be careful regardless, though my magically enhanced toothpick did its own fair share of the work down there.

So, it was slow goin’, and well into the night when we finally navigated our way through the maze of tunnels and drops into the deepest recesses where this thing had took up.  We knew we was close when we heard the chantin’ and saw the red glow in the dark of the tunnels ahead.  I hadn’t counted on there bein’ a cult of humans ‘round the demon, but of course, I weren’t as learned on them as I was followin’ this whole thing.  I could see the magic swirlin’ about and knew we was in for a rough time of it.  Still, we marched right in there, knowin’ what needed to be done and with some idea how to do it.  I was the weak link, bein’ the most inexperienced and the only one who could die permanently, but the pair, for all the trouble they had put me through, had taught me several tricks I’d never had thought up on my own.

Turns out, this demon, and its cult of worshippers, were after Richard.  I honestly weren’t surprised by this revelation, nor was Assane.  Turns out he’d been at the center of a nasty fire some years back that nearly wiped out some city over in England, and some of the wealthiest survivors were none too pleased that they’d been put out like they had.  So, they’d been nursin’ the grudge for a good thirty or more years, just tryin’ to track Richard down so they could kill’em off and had learned the dark arts to make sure that happened.  Assane was of a mind to leave them to it just to get it out of their system, but I ain’t for sure if she was just doin’ that to throw them off their guard or what. 

Needless to say, things got real messy, but it was the first time I’d seen Richard and Assane unleash their full elemental genie natures, turnin’ into bein’s of pure fire and ice.  These Limey cultists weren’t unskilled at what it was they were doin’, and the magic they’d warded the place with was provin’ difficult to deal with, but in the end, we managed to see it through.  In the heat of the moment, I didn’t think about it too much, cause my life was on the line, and who knew how many others if we didn’t kill this demon off, and in a moment of desperation, with my bullets expended and my magical reserves nearly exhausted, I called on that damn spell I’d learnt from Arrnor.  Don’t think that demon expected me to call out to another demon, and it certainly weren’t expectin’ what that spell did to it, but it did the trick, and let us do what was needed to banish that sucker back to its own little corner of the pits it had came from.  Think that spell might’ve broken the resolve of the cultists too, cause it weren’t much trouble to finish the clean up after that.

Sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do, even if it ain’t always the smartest or best thing.  In the end, that demon got cast out of our world for a good long while, the cult that called it up got wiped out, and we made it back out without the whole place fallin’ in on us.  All in all, I’d call it a definite positive on the scale of things.  That event would lead me to the next big change in my life, which I’ll be getting’ to right shortly.

#Lore24 – Entry #190 – Supers Month II #9 – A Right Mess of Things

From the journal of Abigail “Sassy” Dawson, Mage of the Order of Hecate

Course, wouldn’t be long before Assane and Richard done decided to make things even worse for us.  We’d been on the trail of that demon for a couple more days when Richard up and stopped right there in the middle of the prairie round noon and declared he had the solution to the problem.  Assane and me were skeptical, and we didn’t hide that when we glanced at one another.  But then he told us his bright idea and I was floored, came just a hair fallin’ out of my saddle right there. 

“To catch this demon, we’ll need to summon one of our own!” he told us, and he was somehow sure we’d agree with him, judgin’ by that smile on his face.  I was the first to disagree, recovering myself enough to call him right crazy amongst a few other choice words.  Assane was a little less heated on the subject, as was her way, but it weren’t long before the pair were snarlin’ and snappin’ at one another again.  I rode on ahead just to get the two out of earshot for a while, and stayed that way the rest of the day, ever on the watch for signs of our target.  Never got sign that it was near, but had that feelin’ like it was still a watchin’ us, and we hadn’t spotted no carrion birds flyin’ around, so we hadn’t needed no other signs to guide us along, apparently.  We were generally headed northwest, and there were some rocky hills comin’ from what I could see.

Anyway, I stopped as the sun started goin’ down and waited on the two, and it weren’t long before I heard’em still arguin’ back and forth, but it weren’t about no demon this time, just which one they was gonna summon.  I couldn’t believe that Assane had been won over on the idea, but she just plainly told me he’d made a lot of good points.  Knowin’ this could only end bad, I likewise knew I couldn’t talk the two out of it after just a few minutes.  They fought all the time, but when they were in agreement, weren’t no force on this planet that could get them to change that. 

And so it was that I learnt the intricacies of summonin’ up a demon that night under the new moon, and no, I ain’t gonna detail it here.  That knowledge is forbidden for a reason, and this was just one of those times that called for extreme measures, I guess.  They assured me this demon was friendly with them, though, and that they’d dealt with it many times over the centuries.  Assane even called him a “lovable little scamp.” 

Well, I’d call it a little more on the goofy-lookin’ side personally.  This particular demon weren’t one of the big ones like I’d been thinkin’ they meant to call, this one was called Arrnor, and his head was bigger than his whole body, comedically large, to the point I just couldn’t make head nor tails of how he was possibly movin’ around on his own two legs.  Assane’d told me it was just because he had such a high opinion of himself and it had literally gone to his head, but I’m still not sure if she was jokin’ or not. 

When they started with the negotiations, I didn’t miss the fact that the two had started to strip down, and then when the demon’s eyes fell on me, I somehow was expected to do the same.  I put my foot down, right hard, and said I wouldn’t be party to none of their debauchery, but since I’d been there when they started up the ritual, I didn’t have no choice, lest I get us all dragged into the demon’s realm for a century of torment at his hands.  Needless to say, I weren’t happy, and told’em they should’ve stated the details clearly, only to be told they thought I knew already, and just shrugged it off like it were nothin’. 

I still regret that I learned of all this knowledge first hand, for Arrnor is a right indecent demon, even amongst his kind, I reckon.  See, whereas most demons will just kill and torment and drive people mad and such, Arrnor just likes to play, and knows all the most wretched of ways that get humans all worked up in ways that nobody ought know.  I ain’t proud to admit that the ritual was one of the most intensely pleasurable experiences in my life, nor am I proud that I was gifted with knowledge of his signature spell, one of the forbidden ones cause it taps into his essence to use…nor am I proud that all of us got to experience it for ourselves that night.

But, once we had come back to our senses, all tangled up in each other’s arms there on the prairie, we had the information we had been huntin’ for, and knew what it was we faced.  Maybe it was worth the price, and maybe it was worth the stain on my soul in the name of the greater good, but I’m still strugglin’ to work that one out.  Regardless, we set off, bound for the Black Hills, to face that monster and get the job done.

#Lore24 – Entry #187 – Supers Month II #6 – Burning Passions, Burning Buildings

From the journal of Abigail “Sassy” Dawson, Mage of the Order of Hecate

Havin’ suffered the loss of my family as I had, and then spendin’ the last few years mostly alone in the hills talkin’ to Granny Opal and our familiars, I weren’t in no position to be offerin’ no shoulder to cry on.  Not that I could really know how to comfort whatever this woman was; I knew she weren’t exactly human by then.  I finally managed to find my voice again when I felt the prickle of ice on my skin, even through my wards, and realized she was colder than the wintery cemetery was, yet not a bit of ice stuck to her. 

She looked a mite embarrassed when she realized what she was doin’, and picked herself up, wiping at her tears, which were somehow stayin’ wet in the frigid air.  She went and sat on some poor feller’s tomb and cried some more but told me about how she’d had a fight with her husband, gotten a little drunk, and needed to be alone for a while.  Course, that sounded right normal to me, and not a word of it explained why I was standin’ in near two feet of snow in October.  Still on edge, and waitin’ for an attack of some kind, I cautiously leaned up against one of the tall, statuesque grave markers and asked her blunt-like what she was tryin’ to hide, what she was, and what she was doin’ with the weather.

It was almost like she hadn’t even realized she’d been controllin’ it then, given that look on her face.  I will admit, that was one of the few times I ever saw Assane embarrassed by the things she did.  Almost at once the cold eased around her, and the wind started to die down, though it’d take another couple of days for the cold to clear up altogether and get back to a more seasonable climate.  She collected herself from there, using a quick burst of magic to gussy up her appearance and change her clothes into somethin’ that looked more fitting for the cold.  Certainly, she was more talented with the arts than I was, cause I’d never seen the like from Granny Opal’s teachin’s. 

‘Fore I knew it, we was headed back into town proper like, her ridin’ with me on Asher.  He weren’t havin’ no trouble in the heavy snow, even with the both of us, given the little magical tricks he’d used all on his own.  By evenin’, we were sittin’ down for a proper meal at the hotel, and I was tryin’ to learn more about her, though she was bein’ just as curious ‘bout me, always leadin’ the conversation off herself and back to me.

It was durin’ our little sparrin’ match that her husband Richard would show up, and my fate were sealed.  I’d almost got her to spill the beans ‘bout what she was when her face darkened and I felt the air go cold ‘round us, her eyes a lookin’ to the doorway.  Again, I won’t be sayin’ much ‘bout appearances, cause those meant little to these two, but Richard was comin’ in like all was forgiven, but she weren’t havin’ none of it.  Weren’t long before the two were standin’ right in the middle of the restaurant and yellin’ at one another.  Didn’t take me long to figure why, cause I was lookin’ him over with my mystic sight and found the same odd nature I’d seen with Assane, only he was pure fire instead of solid ice.

Now, I never claimed to understand just how love works, nor how opposites attract; works for magnets, guess it worked for these two, but damn, they can be trouble when they get riled up.  Kinda put me in mind of a couple a spoilt children after a while.  Couldn’t have known then how right I was on that one…  Anyhow, before I knew it, Assane had slapped the shit outta Richard, and he slapped right back, then the two was a brawlin’ right there in the floor.  There was a right ton of onlookers, downright mortified most of them, cause this weren’t no proper behavior for a lady nor a gent. 

I saw the magic bubblin’ up from the pair right before it exploded, before I could do much about it.  Fire burst outta him, and ice came outta her, uncontrolled, wild, like their brand of love, I guess.  Next thing I knew, people was runnin’ and screamin’, the buildin’ was a burnin’ on one side and froze solid on the other.  Worse, the two had found their way out onto the street, and their magic was a spreadin’ all over the street.  I weren’t equipped for this kinda thing, cause I hadn’t learnt no magic that could hope to stand up to their power yet, so I just did what I could to try and get people outta harms way. 

They were like a force of nature at this point, and though it might’ve been less, I woulnd’t have been surprised if a quarter of the city was either burning or froze up.  People had already been hurt, but there weren’t nobody else who could deal with the two, so I had to make a tough choice then.  I didn’t like killin’, but I weren’t about to see a bunch of innocents get killed over a lovers’ quarrel, so Asher and I rode up after then.  I tried to reason with them, but they weren’t hearin’ none of it, even flung fire and ice my way when I got too close.  As much as I hated to, I unloaded my six-shooter into them. 

I think they were probably just as surprised by it as I was, but my improved magic bullets did the job, and the two fell dead in each other’s arms, all tragic romance like. 

I didn’t linger longer than I had to after that.  I did what I could to help fight the fires, and after a long night, I avoided the hard questions that were a stirrin’ in town and hit the first boat bound down the Ohio River, a bit shellshocked at havin’ to kill a pair like that. 

I was sleepin’ real sound from sheer exhaustion after that in my tiny cabin.  I’d gone to bed alone, Asher up on deck with the other horses, so when I awoke later on in the day, I was right surprised to discover I weren’t the only one in the bed.  I must’ve squealed right loud when I realized I had two people pressed up on either side of me, but I was even more surprised when I’d hopped out of bed and realized who they was. 

I’d gunned the pair down myself the night before, but here they was, grinnin’ at me just as alive as they had been the night before durin’ their spat, though they looked completely different now, aside from what I saw of their true forms with my mystic sight. 

“We like you; you’ve got guts, kid,” Richard had said, flashin’ a smooth smile at me.  “How about we get to know each other properly?”

I should’ve refused the offer.  Lord only knows why I didn’t.

#Lore24 – Entry #186 – Supers Month II #5 – Winter Comes Early in Louisville

From the journal of Abigail “Sassy” Dawson, Mage of the Order of Hecate

After that hot summer down in Franklin, and a little more time spent in the surroundin’ area to make sure no more of them mongrels were lurkin’ about, I eventually drifted up north, and into Louisville.  It just so happened that fall was comin’ on hard by then, and when I say hard, I mean winter hard.  There was a cold snap came in, and it was downright wintery up there, and it was barely halfway through October; had snow in the air and everything.  Asher pointed it out to me first off:  that weren’t no natural weather pattern what had come in; it was magical.  I was downright impressed with the scale they’d managed to change up the weather, but then I started wonderin’ exactly why whoever was responsible for it had done it.  Didn’t make no sense at first glance, ‘ceptin’ to make things harder on the folk ‘round the city, till I got to thinkin’ about some of Granny Opal’s stories and lectures.  Looked like I had another monster runnin’ around to deal with, some kinda feyfolk or, Lord forbid, a wendigo.

Well, as I would soon learn, I weren’t to have no such good luck.

I restocked my supplies and got me some winter clothes first off, checked into a hotel for the first time in a good while and started to get a feel for Louisville and the arcane flows that were messin’ with the weather.  The flows of magic weren’t like anything I’d seen before.  They were subtle, mostly hidden, but stronger than anything I’d encountered before, like a true master of the arcane had formed them.  As I was tracin’ them out and lookin’ for a source, I began to wonder if I was steppin’ in on the territory of some witch more powerful than Granny Opal, cause I’d never seen even her make somethin’ like this. 

So, after a few days trudgin’ round in the freezin’ weather, with snow startin’ to pile up, I finally managed to trace down the source, which was in the Cave Hill Cemetery.  Once I’d worked out the nature of the flows, it was like a vortex swirlin’ around the place, and a cold one at that.  I was wrackin’ my brain tryin’ to figure out what could be lurkin’ in there that could be controllin’ the weather like that, what kinda creature could or would do it.

Well, when Asher and I finally made our way in, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, so I had insulated myself against cold magic and had some fiery surprises in store for whatever it was.  What I didn’t expect to find was a beautiful woman wearing a rather scandalous dress for the time, the kind you’d see in a brothel, even if it was colored more like something befitting a funeral, moping about amongst the graves, not affected in the slightest by the wintery weather.  Won’t say much about her looks here, cause, as I’d learn, how she looks from one time to another don’t much matter.  She hadn’t noticed me as I approached, too deep in her melancholy, and I strained to get a read on what she was.  She looked human at first, and for the longest time, I thought she was, but once I’d had a good long look at her with my mystic sight, I finally pierced the magic that was around her; there was a spell up to keep her from being noticed, one I’d used myself plenty of times, but there was somethin’ extra about her appearance. 

But it weren’t no illusion she wore.  I wasn’t even sure what I’d seen even then, cause what I saw didn’t make no sense to me.  It was like I saw two overlapping images that were at once the same being; one the human woman, the other a woman composed entirely of elemental ice and cold, both bound together by something else I just couldn’t put my finger on.  She must’ve finally felt my eyes on her, cause she whipped around suddenly, and the air got even colder somehow, pressing down on my wards against it like an avalanche rolling down a mountain; it was all I could do to hold them in place.  Even Asher got anxious, dancing about a bit despite himself.

She didn’t attack me outright, though, seemed more startled that I’d spotted her, really.  We stared at one another for several minutes I think, not sure what to make of one another.  I sensed her mystic sight upon me as she looked me over and saw her look of puzzlement.  Finally, I broke the ice, so to speak, and introduced myself, and that I was just inquirin’ as to why she felt the need to turn the Louisville area into a winter wonderland, and if there were anything I could do to help her out. 

Lookin’ back on it now, I suppose that was one of the biggest mistakes I could’ve made.

Before I knew it, she had burst into tears and was on her knees in the snow, cryin’ her eyes out about her lover and her getting’ into a big fight, and before I knew it, I was down there tryin’ to comfort her.  Finally got a name out of her, and it was a weird one for Kentucky to be sure, Assane.  Sounded foreign, just couldn’t guess which kinda foreign back then, not that I would’ve ever guessed it right anyway.

I certainly had no idea what was happenin’ right then, nor could I have understood exactly what I’d just stepped into, but the next few years would be one hell of a ride.

#Lore24 – Entry #184 – Supers Month II #3 – The Way of the Gun

From the journal of Abigail “Sassy” Dawson, Mage of the Order of Hecate

The rifle I’d managed to get my hands on weren’t anything special, just an old Enfield muzzleloader that had seen a bit too much work on the battlefield.  Accurate enough for what I wanted if a bit on the “well-used” side, but not like them new fancy repeaters that were startin’ to show up.  Couldn’t get my hands on a new Springfield or no revolvers at the time either, but that’d come later on.  I’d grown up with this kind of gun anyhow, so I knew all about their quirks.  Even spending a couple years in the hills with Granny Opal didn’t affect my aim too much; a dozen shots with the gun and I was pretty much dead on target.  Not that she appreciated all my shootin’ up in her holler, and I don’t reckon Smoky liked it none either, but the meat I brought in with it made up for it, even if she might’ve looked at me like I was a little off in my head.

Still, weren’t too long after that when I started playin’ around and mixin’ my magical learnin’ with my shootin’.  Started by enhancin’ my caps so that they would always go off for one, so none of that misfirin’ for me!  Then I started messin’ with some of the divination to enhance my aimin’; before long I was nailin’ shots with that ol’ rifle that nobody on Earth had the right to make.  After that, I got the bright idea to start infusin’ some elemental energy into my shot.  First time I shot a tree with one of them explodin’ Minie balls, I was somehow impressed and terrified at the same time.  After that I toned things down a bit, makin’ a smaller charge, tryin’ some fire and ice and such.  Even tried workin’ with the power to try some kinda quick reloadin’ scheme with an elemental helper, but that didn’t work out so well.  Wouldn’t be the craziest thing I’d wind up doin’ with my guns by any stretch; I was just getting’ started after all.

One day down in town, I heard that the War Between the States was declared done and learned about President Lincoln getting’ assassinated.  Seemed like things were on the mend, but I’d learn soon enough that couldn’t be further from the truth.  Still, I got that itch to see just how things had changed since those Union bastards came in on us.  I was still raw about that, but war ain’t nothin’ great, and brings out the worst in everyone, so I wasn’t plannin’ on holdin’ a grudge or nothin’; I done dealt with those that did it, after all, and was finally startin’ to sleep full nights again without wakin’ up screamin’. 

But, that’s neither here nor there.  Once I’d mentioned to Granny Opal I was thinkin’ about explorin’ about a bit, she put me through my paces in the next few weeks, makin’ sure I had all the knowledge I could ever need.  We parted on good terms, in her cantankerous way, and I was even told I was welcome back if I ever found myself back in this neck of the woods.  I’d never make it back to her, though, and I never really found out what happened to her, but I half expect to see her show up somewhere down the line, chidin’ me for not visitn’ her none.

#Lore24 – Entry #183 – Supers Month II #2 – The Way of Magic

From the journal of Abigail “Sassy” Dawson, Mage of the Order of Hecate

I’d learn a few things when I finally woke up and took account of where I was.  I could smell the age of the old cabin mixed with the scent of herbs and fresh-baked bread, saw that my wounds had been tended and bandaged.  It only took a few moments before I realized I was right hungry, so I eased out of bed, unsteady as I was at the time, and stepped through the open doorway into the main room of the cabin.  That was when I’d meet Granny Opal for the first time, a witch older than the hills themselves so it was said.  I’d heard the name growin’ up but didn’t ever figure the tales of a witch up in the distant hills to be fact till I saw her and she introduced herself.  She weren’t nothing like what I figured from what I’d heard about her; she looked more like the ‘granny’ of her namesake than the old crone you’d think of when you hear the word “witch”, gray hair up in a bun, plump and wrinkled with age, a little pair of glasses threatening to slip off her nose, that kind of look. 

Still, she weren’t one to mince words and dillydally about, so she told me how it was and how it was going to be for a fair sight.  As she told it, I’d sought her out on my own after a fashion now that my powers had woke up, and she was gonna teach me how not to get myself and others killed with what I could do, at least, not by accident.  I guess maybe she took a bit of pity on me then when my stomach spoke up, cause she said she’d wait till after breakfast before startin’ my lessons.  I never once questioned her ‘bout all this; just seemed right to me now that I didn’t really have noweheres else to go; I had family up north ‘round Lexington somewhere, so I’d been told, but I never met them, so they might as well not have ever existed.  I took a seat at the old table and noted all the strange things she had hangin’ ‘round her place, animal bones and sticks and beads and feathers and the like, all kinds of different arrangements, and all kinds of bottles and jugs filled with things I’d learn about later on, not all of them pleasant.  Granny Opal was a good cook, I’d say, fixed some fine bread and stew, though the taste was a little funny till you got used to it.

Once my stomach weren’t interruptin’ us from jawin’, she started teachin’ me about what had happened.  I started gettin’ images in my head of what all had happened that day as my memories came rushin’ back.  I got real close to sickin’ up right then when I remembered what I’d done, but managed to hold all that food I’d just eaten in somehow.  As she went over the basics and started learnin’ me some techniques to focus my mind and spirit and my head cleared up, I first became aware of my familiar, Asher, lingerin’ over by the fence, chewin’ on some grass.  Turns out he’d been my familiar since I’d handled breakin’ him in a couple years back, I just never realized what it was I’d done.  Now that I’d started learnin’ the ways of magic, it weren’t long before I was talkin’ to him in my head and hearin’ his voice just as plain as day.  That’s how I eventually learned he’d picked me up out in the woods, havin’ slipped outta the stables on his own once the shootin’ started, and he’d sensed Granny Opal all on his own and took me to her.

I’d be sittin’ out the rest of the War with Granny Opal, becoming an apprentice witch, I suppose.  She’d introduce me to her familiar soon enough, a big ol’ bobcat named Smoky, and though he weren’t no normal bobcat, he still put Asher’s nerves on edge whenever he was about.  I’d learn that our familiars acted as something of a buffer and a conduit for tappin’ into the magic that was all around us, though I reckon magic had started to fade away from the world a while back for whatever reason, which was why there weren’t too many of us witches about anymore.  They were also magical beings, our familiars, bonded to us for the rest of our days, though they could certainly still be killed through other means, and were that to happen, we’d lose our connection to the majority of our magic till we bonded a new one. 

I’d learn some basic control techniques, how to call upon the elements and formulate magical essence into our “spells”, and a fair bit of her herbalism and alchemy, and how to use the mystic sight, too.  ‘Course, I had to learn all them pesky rules and such about what I should and shouldn’t be doin’ with my magic, but I’ll save all that lecturin’ for somewheres else. 

We didn’t see a lot of visitors out there at Granny Opal’s cabin; not many would venture out that way unless they was in need of some of her special healin’ poultices and the like.  Everyone was downright afraid of her, really, but I figure that was more just somethin’ she spread around to keep most people away.  She enjoyed her privacy, and just tolerated me for a short spell, I reckon.  Still, she weren’t unpleasant or mean, was a good teacher, and was mostly patient with me.  I’d ride Asher down through the hills a good ways to town ever so often to pick up a few supplies that weren’t traded to Granny by her occasional visitors, and I’d pick myself up a rifle for huntin’ and such after a fair bit of tradin’. 

Granny thought I was a might touched in the head when I came back with that gun, since everything we could ever need we could work through magic in some way or another, but I just didn’t feel right not havin’ one.  Sure, I could fling rocks or manage a spurt of fire, or somethin’ else like that by then, but I don’t reckon that’d go over well outside her little holler.  Folk just weren’t gonna accept that sort of thing in the modern world.  Might actually be why magic started to fade, I guess; people just stopped believen’ in it.  I didn’t plan on stickin’ around forever, and she didn’t expect me to either.  So, I’d start playin’ around on my own, and as I’d learn, I could do some right fancy tricks when I combined my magic with my shootin’. 

#Lore24 – Entry #158 – Wild West Month #6 – The Golden Star Serpent Which Breaks the World

As told by Kumiko Stalks-Amongst-the-Stars, shaman of the Midnight Panther tribe of Kerra-Kerra

Our Great Mother Saressh, in her divine wisdom, gifts her most faithful children with the gift of the Sight, of visions of futures that may or may not come to pass.  It is with her guidance that we have found our way, alongside the many spirits of the land and seas and air that dwell upon the Broken Cage that Still Imprisons. 

Yet, all that he has shown us does not bode well for our people or for those who are not of the Kerra-Kerra or the Other Peoples who Roam the Bitter Frontier, or even the places within the world we do not travel.  For there exists a prophecy that has not come to pass, but has been shared by the shaman of all tribes, that I have experienced myself.

One day, there shall be a great Golden Serpent from the Stars beyond the Broken Cage that Still Imprisons who shall fall upon our world.  This Golden Star Serpent shall seek truths that we ourselves do not know, buried in the deepest and darkest of secret places within our world.  We know that what this Golden Star Serpent seeks lies within our sacred lands, within the Bitter Frontier.  This much Saressh has shown us to be true, though when it shall happen, we cannot know for certain.

She has also shown us that should this Golden Sky Serpent find what she seeks, the Broken Cage that Still Imprisons shall be changed forever, the very nature of our world torn asunder.  This will scatter our peoples amongst the stars themselves, not only the Kerra-Kerra, but those dwellers in the Cities from Beyond the Great Walls and even in lands far beyond our own Bitter Frontier.  The very nature of life upon our world will be changed forever.  Our world will be broken; this we cannot prevent.

And yet there is hope, for the Great Mother has told us that not all is lost, for even in the darkest of times, the spirit of our people shall continue to thrive through and beyond this Breaking of the World.  Though we of the Broken Cage that Still Imprisons may be changed forever, we will not allow our spirits to die, cannot allow our ways to be forgotten.  We must adapt to whatever changes may come, for that is the life we have always lived upon our Bitter Frontier.

#Lore24 – Entry #157 – Wild West Month #5 – Life and Death Upon the Bitter Frontier

As told by Kumiko Stalks-Amongst-the-Stars, shaman of the Midnight Panther tribe of Kerra-Kerra

The Bitter Frontier is our life.  The Bitter Frontier is our death.  To live as a free people, we Kerra-Kerra must accept that freedom is first dangerous, but preferable to the life inside the Cities Beyond the Great Walls that lie in the direction of the sun’s rise.  Though filled with many dangers, the Bitter Frontier is where we live our lives, thriving in ways those not born of the wilds can never understand.

The Bitter Frontier’s bounty is plentiful until it is not.  If the spirits are not respected, then they will see to it that we suffer for our disrespect; when we revere them as they should be, our lives are simpler and filled with good hunting and good growth.  Some spirits may see to it that we suffer for our lack of action in defending them as well, for there are many of the peoples from the Cities Beyond the Great Walls who venture into the Bitter Frontier and now have many settlements in lands they have claimed from the Many Peoples who are both Kerra-Kerra and those who are not.  They do not understand our ways, and this leads to conflict, which upsets the natural order.

They seek what we do not, ripping stones they desire from the bowels of the earth itself, sucking the very lifeblood of the land to burn and turn the skies black with smoke, to expand their claims upon the land, attempting to bind it with their Bands of Wood and Steel so that their Howling Steel Chariots may travel swiftly across the Bitter Frontier.  They bring their Thundering Weapons to bear against us, killing us from afar, so it is with great reluctance that we have been forced to adopt their ways of killing, lest we ourselves be killed.

But hope still springs for the Kerra-Kerra, for the spirits hear our cries, and make cries of their own.  Those from the Cities Beyond the Great Walls are not welcome within the Bitter Frontier, and venture here at their own risk.  Many have been the Lesser Uproars of the spirits, sundering settlements that grow too large, scattering its peoples to the wind and ripping free their binding bands upon the earth, removing the precious things they seek to claim from within the shifting rock.  Entire landscapes have been changed by the fury of the spirits.

I fear that this will be an eternal struggle, for that is the nature of the Bitter Frontier.

#Lore24 – Entry #156 – Wild West Month #4 – The Ways of the Spirit World

As told by Kumiko Stalks-Amongst-the-Stars, shaman of the Midnight Panther tribe of Kerra-Kerra

Though we will always owe much to our Great Mother, the goddess Sarresh, it is in the home of the Great Spirits that we dwell, and to them we must always show much respect and deference, for it is ultimately they who will allow the Kerra-Kerra to continue to live upon the Broken Cage that Still Imprisons.  This is why we must learn of the many spirits that live within this world, for we must know and respect and fear them, lest we suffer another Great Uproar and be scoured from the very face of this world.

Greatest of the spirits are the primal sprits, those of the most basic and elemental forces that have the power to shape the land itself, those which determine where we may live, where we may hunt, and whether our people may live or die.  Spirts of Earth, Fire, Water, and Wind are the four most primal elements which make up all the others, and it is these spirits we must always strive to revere and offer our thanks, for it was they who caused the Great Uproar when they freed themselves from the Devil-Wardens.

Next are our most sacred spirits, the totem animals which our tribes revere and have taken as our guardians and guides.  For our people, it is the midnight panther, a powerful and cunning hunter which stalks its prey by night.  It is the great spirit of the midnight panther, Munkuro Tsume, which we revere most, and who grants us our spiritual magics and, for the shaman of our tribe, our ability to take on their forms so that we may travel amongst them.  This is like the other tribes of Kerra-Kerra, and those who are not of our people who still hold to the ways of revering the spirits. 

Then there are the many spirits of nature that dwell within all aspects of the world.  They are made up of pieces of the great primal spirits and are found within everything upon the Broken Cage that Still Imprisons.  These spirits are of the plants and trees, of the rain and snow and drought, of the earth which grows our food, of the animals who are not our totem spirits, of the mechanics used by those who are not of our people…everything.  It is not important for those who are not shaman to know all their names, but it is vital that they continue to acknowledge their presence within and without, for we must always strive to live in harmony with them.

#Lore24 – Entry #122 – Muckenmyre Month #1 – Shipwrecked off the Dragon Isles

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris.

I have little memory of the Dragon Isles; we really weren’t there that long, just a few foggy images of rocky islands in the distance.  I was there to assist the Emperor’s Inquisition as they tracked the remnants of a group tied to the Res’Teringal rebellion, the last of those who would dare oppose his rightful rule, driven from their hiding place after several months of searching.  The remnant rebels had taken up with a pirate fleet, hoping to flee the emperor’s grasp, perhaps to live long enough to mount another attempt to buck the control of the Empire.  Once our chase fleet had caught up with them, they made straight for the Dragon Isles.  We knew they were bound for Cypress Isle at the tip of the island chain, but they were desperate. 

They turned toward the inner islands. 

They brought the storms…the Dragons’ Fury.

These storms were…like nothing I had ever witnessed in my life.  No storm within the many regions of the Empire that I have traversed in my two centuries of life were anything close to the fury that came from those islands, rolling down from the skies to the north like a gray and black wall of roiling death.  Our fleet was doomed the moment Inquisitor Dama decided to follow the pirates closer in.  I don’t know if they made it out; we lost sight of them within moments as the seas began to surge, lightning struck all about, and hail slammed into us.  The thunder…it really was like the roar of dragons.  That is the only way I can describe it…what else could sound so terrifying, even to someone like me, than a roar from a legendary dragon?

We tried to turn away, but it was far too late for us.  Our decision to follow the rebels toward the inner islands had sealed our doom.  Our ships were shattered in minutes.  I had already made my peace with my death, to whatever fate my soul would face.  My life had been nothing but suffering, either inflicted upon me, or with myself inflicting it upon others.  It was all for the Emperor of course, may He live forever, and I certainly would change nothing that I had done in his name…but to die so quickly…I certainly could never have imagined such a…merciful end.  It was not an ending for someone who had been responsible for causing so much pain to others, especially those of my own kind.  Most of my brother and sister slaves certainly did not deserve what I did to them, but I am a loyal slave to my great Emperor, and it is his will that I channeled; I was his vessel, his voice to those who could not understand it.

I felt the cold of the virulent sea, felt the electric charge in the air and water from the lightning as I was tossed around, felt my bones break from the impact of the hailstones, from my body slamming into the broken hull as it was tossed from one massive wave to the next.  Somehow I became entangled with the rigging or some netting, became stuck fast to a portion of one of the broken ships.  In my last moments of consciousness, I was certain that I would be sinking below the waves, would become one with the sweet, cold, void that lay below.

My expectations were perhaps too high.

My hopes for death were premature.

For I am still here.