Tag: supers setting

#Lore24 – Entry #192 – Supers Month II #11 – A Timely Meeting with Chrona Tempora Quanta

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

I found out not long after we’d cleared out that demon that our actions were bein’ watched by more powers than what we figured on.  Or at least, mine in particular were, cause Richard and Assane were already spoken for, so to speak.  As we continued on to the northwest through them Black Hills, a couple days after we’d recovered from our demon-slayin’ and I’d restocked my supplies with some ammunition from the dead town, which, ironically enough, Richard would send off with a proper funeral pyre, I began to hear this callin’ in my head.  It weren’t like nothin’ I’d experienced before.  I knew it was a voice reachin’ out to me, and I suddenly knew exactly where to go.

So, I led the way, and soon enough, we’d spotted what later came to be called Devil’s Tower by the majority of folk, loomin’ up in the distance, and even this far away, I could sense the power of the place.  It was an ancient place, the kind that many people over the centuries and eons had used for various rituals and magics and interdimensional travel and the like, and here it was that someone was callin’ me to it.  I’d told Richard and Assane about the call, and they’d told me to trust it, cause they were pretty sure they knew who it was, but it was up to me to answer it or not.

So, me an’ Asher rode on, the genies followin’ behind, though they’d wind up waitin’ for me at the base of the tower.  Usin’ one of the tricks I’d learnt from my companions, I spurred Asher on right up the side of that tower, and we rode to the very top.  I weren’t sure exactly what I’d expected to find up there, but I could feel the warp in reality as I traveled upward.  Atop the tower I passed through a cloakin’ spell like nothin’ I’d ever experienced before, and then, as I topped the rise, passed through the dimensional barrier.  In an instant, I found myself ridin’ down an ancient stone pathway, through a garden filled with strange plants and scents I didn’t recognize but surrounded by a strange sense of calmness and serenity.  Loomin’ up beyond the garden was a massive castle, or something like a castle, huge and ancient and radiating power the likes of which I’d never seen before.

There was a pond at the center of this garden, and waitin’ for me by it was a lady dressed up in some fancy duds, stuff I thought might’ve come out of England, but, bein’ the uneducated sort I was back then, were actually a whole lot older.

This lady introduced herself as Chrona Tempora Quanta, head of the Order of Hecate.  I was not exactly sure what any of that was, nor had I heard a name like that before, but I introduced myself in turn once I was dismounted.  I certainly felt small then, but in spite of the distance of her nature, Chrona put me at ease soon enough.  She said that she’d been watching me for some time, since I’d decided to get involved in that affair with the dogmen near Bowling Green, in fact, and had approved of what it was I was doin’ with my time.  She was rather amused at my choice of traveling companions, though when she called them children, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.  Course, I didn’t know Chrona’s nature, nor her type of magic then, so it wouldn’t be for some time that I’d get what she meant.

She told me all about the Order of Hecate then, and had I not known magic myself, I’d have called her a loon, but somehow the idea of an ancient order of mages that existed on the boundaries between our world and the many beyond it seemed a good thing.  I would have much to learn, certainly, but with my aid in banishing the demon, I’d more than proven myself to join up with them.  She told me then that there would be lean times comin’ as far as magic was concerned in our world, and that, for a good while, I’d be the last recruit the Order would have, but that I’d always have a home with them, and could learn more about magic and how to hone my own in ways I’d never considered before.  And, if I wanted, I could continue doing the good work back on Earth for a while longer, cause she got the impression I weren’t quite done seein’ what the place had to offer.

It was a lot to take in, but the more questions I asked, and the more she told me, the more I knew I’d found myself a place to belong.  We must’ve talked for hours, but never did time seem to pass, and given what I’d learn about Chrona, that was no surprise.  But, after that good long chat, she bid me and Asher to follow along so that she could introduce me to the rest of the order and get me all settled in.

#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 #189 – Supers Month II #8 – Hunting What Hunts You

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

I ‘spose it were sometime in mid-spring, somewhere in the Nebraska or Dakota Territories when we had some trouble that weren’t of the normal variety.  We’d managed well enough to avoid trouble with the Indians, well, ‘ceptin’ that one incident, but that ain’t nothin’ to get into here.  My travelin’ companions were bickerin’ back and forth as they usually were when we was on long stretches between civilization, ‘bout something that happened back in the Dark Ages, I reckon, how it was Assane’s fault Richard got drawn and quartered for somethin’ she’d started, or somethin’ or other like that.  I was ridin’ on a little ways ahead just so me and Asher could have a little peace and quiet for a time when everythin’ went all deadly quiet. 

We was on alert, stopped cold in the middle of some old Indian trail in the middle of the woods when this feelin’ of dread just came rushin’ into me like nothin’ I’d ever felt before.  I had my pistol in one hand and a protection spell in the other before I knew what was goin’ on.  I scanned around the area with my mystic sight but didn’t see no signs that we’d come into one of them ‘bad places’ where things was known by the Indians to be unnatural.  Didn’t see no Indian signs aside from the trail in fact.  Asher couldn’t get a bearin’ on anythin’ either, and he was downright spooked like I ain’t never seen him before. 

As the two genies came back into earshot, they realized, for a wonder, that somethin’ was wrong, cause they were suddenly very alert when they saw me standin’ stock still on the trail, and had their own protections up.  They took to the air and split up to scout from above, but by then that dreadful feelin’ had started to fade, and a few minutes later, the sounds of nature started comin’ back.  When the two came back, they played it off as them spookin’ away whatever it was, but I could tell they was a little rattled by whatever had been there.

We’d get our first clue a bit further on down the trail that we was bein’ hunted by somethin’, and that it wanted us to know we was getting’ hunted.  We came up to a clearin’ in the hills, real idyllic little scene with a pond and a freshwater spring.  Well, it woulda been were it not for the pile of rottin’ meat we found on the shore and the smaller chunks floatin’ around the water.  I figure it must’ve been a whole herd of deer what were massacred there, and though they was rottin’ off the bone, it couldn’t have been done too long ago.  We set to cleanin’ up the mess, Richard burnin’ the corpses while Assane worked on purifyin’ the water.  Whatever had just come through ate a little of each one, the organs like the heart and liver and even the brains, but left most everything else.  Weren’t no messages left behind other than the bloody mess, but it wouldn’t be the last one of those we came upon.

Was maybe three or four days later when we ran up on that feelin’ again, drawin’ us to the north, only this time when we came up on the massacre, it were a bunch of Indians, maybe two dozen of them, all warriors.  They was missin’ the same parts as the deer were, but this time, instead of bein’ thrown all around, they was laid out deliberate-like, in some kind of dark ritual, their innards splayed out in specific ways, devilish signs made in their blood.  Worst part was they was all still alive somehow, cryin’ out in agony, even without their brains, it was like their spirits were still trapped in the bodies.

I hadn’t never seen nothin’ like that before, and couldn’t evern start to imagine what could’ve done it.  My companions had some thoughts about it, though, cause it was their job to know this kind of stuff, so they had told me many times, and for once they agreed it were some kind of demon runnin’ around, and likely sent after us by someone or somethin’ that we’d pissed off.  Most likely it was their fault, cause I didn’t reckon I’d done nothin’ to deserve that kinda attention just yet.  They was pretty sure it was leavin’ a trail for us to follow, just waitin’ for the right time to strike, when it was good and ready, meanin’ we had to somehow find it first.

It weren’t no happy trail we’d found ourselves on, that was for damn sure.

#Lore24 – Entry #188 – Supers Month II #7 – Conversations on the Trails into the West

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

Once I’d calmed myself down and gotten over my shock at seein’ the pair alive and kickin’, I was of a mind that they were out to get revenge on me for it.  But that weren’t the case, cause neither of them held a grudge, even admitted to havin’ died plenty of times before.  I’ll admit, that one threw me a bit.  So, I took a seat and started askin’ the tough questions. 

They weren’t shy ‘bout talkin’ to me ‘bout themselves, since I already knew they weren’t what you’d call “human”.  Turns out they were only half-human, the other half bein’ genie.  Found that one hard to believe, but they was dead serious ‘bout it, and they’d been around for centuries.  Back when the great mage Scheherazade (always thought she was just a character in them “Arabian Nights” stories till I met these two) had first whipped up the true genies, breedin’ was one of the first things humanity felt they had to do with ‘em.  Here I thought modern times was right indecent in that way, but turns out, ain’t nothin’ had really changed.  So, they was amongst the first of the half-genie children that were made, and some of the few still roamin’ around on Earth.  They had taken up the duty of guarding the planet, they told me, from all kinds of supernatural evils and the like. 

You could say I was doubtful, but that would puttin’ it mildly given what I’d seen the two get up to in the town they’d very nearly destroyed.  That they shrugged off as just one of their “little arguments”.  They’d been huntin’ a particular vampire that had been roamin’ the town, they said, one with a taste for children, so Assane had gone and changed up her appearance to that of a child as bait.  When the deed was done and the vampire was dusted, she’d decided to stay that way for a bit, and this got Richard all riled up cause he thought she wasn’t attractive when she looked that way, and then it had spiraled out of control, she’d gotten drunk, lost control of herself for a few days, and then the rest was as I explained it earlier.

Apparently when you live forever, time don’t mean much, so what’s a few days or weeks in a drunken stupor? 

Anyway, they’d been married early on, sometime during the Crusades I reckon, though I don’t rightly know which one, both bein’ of royal blood and all.  And apparently, they’ve been causin’ trouble all over the world ever since, whenever they get into arguments or if they ain’t too careful in who they cozy up with.  Turns out these two might’ve been responsible, well, more or less, for more than one tragedy one the centuries, but that ain’t a story I’m tellin’ here; you want to know, you ask them about it.

With them revelations out in the open, I started askin’ them ‘bout how they did their magic, cause it was a good ways beyond what I could manage back then.  Turns out most of their powers came natural to them, given that they’re elementals to some extent, given their genie heritage and all, though they’d learned plenty of spells and rituals beyond what their elemental nature let them do.  I got the impression they felt I was about as capable as a newborn babe on the scale of our magic talents, but I ‘spose they saw somethin’ in me, cause as we’d travel further on, they’d teach me plenty that Granny Opal had never even imagined, or at least, had never bothered to mention.

After ridin’ down the Mississippi for a while, we disembarked in St. Louis and started headin’ west.  We didn’t have much in the way of a goal at first, cause all of us were curious to see the new side of the country that had opened up, and to get away from the nastiness that followed the war.  They hadn’t been in America too awful long themselves, just a few decades, and most of that was spent on the east coast.

Turns out there was plenty of things to keep us busy out there.  My eyes were opened up to all kinds of things I had only thought of as fanciful stories or myth till I started hangin’ round these two.  First night in St. Louis we wound up takin’ down another bunch of vampires (they just love the city life, good food supply), and it weren’t a week later we were trackin’ down a right ornery bunch of werewolves that were terrorizin’ the people travellin’ out west.  For all their rash behavior and dang near childlike antics at times, they were mighty impressive to watch when they worked.  They’d always try to make introductions and handle things peaceable, even when we came up on that pack of werewolves while they was in the middle of eatin’ their most recent kills.  Basically the choice was to get the hell out of this world and off to another one, or die where they was standin’, and bein’ pretty sure of themselves, lackin’ proper arcane trainin’ and all, they had no clue what they was facin’.  Guess the ways of the Old World weren’t so well known in these parts.

And so things went for the better part of the winter months that year, more or less without misfortune, movin’ on from one town to another on the trail of some maneater or troublesome fey or some cult doin’ magic they had no business delvin’ in, the kind dealin’ with elder bein’s from beyond, that kinda foul thing.  I had to act as mediator between the two half-genies a few times, and they’d manage to rope me into some rather…intimate affairs I ain’t gonna speak of here.  They’re nothin’ if not passionate, I’ll say that. 

Our good deeds wouldn’t go unnoticed, though, and soon enough we’d find ourselves bein’ the ones that were getting’ hunted.

#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 #185 – Supers Month II #4 – Something Worse than Man

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

With some supplies from Granny Opal’s stores, a bit of food, and plenty of powder and shot, I set out from her cabin and didn’t look back.  I wanted to see the country, see what had become of it after the war.  I was kinda an odd case at that time, I guess.  I’d had my life torn apart by the war, but I didn’t feel no strong emotions about it.  I guess my trainin’ in the arcane, learnin’ that there was a much bigger world out there that most people don’t even know about kinda put things in a whole new perspective.  Things I’d only heard of growin’ up that I thought were fairy tales were real, in some way or another, and though I didn’t know it at the time, it weren’t too long before I’d run headlong into some of them.

I’d only ever been around small towns and the hill folk growin’ up and even when I was with Granny Opal, so for all my desire to explore, I was nervous as heck when it came to dealin’ with people, and they were not shy about givin’ me the hairy eyeball.  Guess it was the fact that I was dressed like a mountain man, wearin’ leathers and hides instead of them dresses and the like that women normally wore back then. 

I was a lady out of time even when I was a youngin’, I ‘spose. 

Still, as I made my way along through the small towns and down them hills and valleys of Kentucky, goin’ from place to place, I was slowly learnin’ how to speak with folk again, though I could tell there was some serious trauma all over the place.  I’d lost count of how many wounded soldiers I’d seen makin’ their ways back home, or how many homesteads I’d come across that were abandoned or burnt out.  Weren’t none of it right, and it ought not have happened, and I don’t even think I understand exactly how it came about even to this day.

But, I’m ramblin’ on here when I need to get to my point.  It were maybe three months after I’d cleared on outta Granny Opal’s holler and I was over on the western end of the state in the flatlands, just south of Bowling Green when I first came across one of them kinds of things Granny had warned me about.  By this time, I’d managed to earn a bit of money and had won a few shootin’ contests, and had myself a pretty well-kept Colt Navy revolver and a proper gun belt and clothes (still weren’t wearin’ none of them fancy dresses, though), and I still had my trusty old Enfield and a wicked little Arkansas toothpick I’d picked up.

As it were, I came across the scene of a right tragic affair down in a town called Franklin, and a spread that had been allied with the Confederates that had seen its own brand of Union terrors.  Place stood out cause it was a unique lookin’ house, octagon shaped, and I could see the arcane energy in turmoil all over the property.  Was somethin’ much worse lurkin’ around them parts back then, cause the Veil Between Worlds was right thin there; I just didn’t know if it were cause of what happened, or if that had caused the stuff that had happened there.  I’d seen places that had off-kilter flows before, but nothin’ like this.  Didn’t take much talkin’ with the locals to learn that somethin’ was goin’ on, and it weren’t no Union troops doin’ it.  There were people goin’ missin’, and piles of bloody remains bein’ found, like people and livestock both were bein’ butchered and eaten.

Don’t know really what made me do it, just a sense of doin’ the right thing, I guess, but I decided to do what I could to deal with the problem.  Not that I was no expert or nothin’, but I reckon I could shore up the barrier and root out anything that might’ve been comin’ through.  Won’t linger too long on the nitty-gritty details here; after some huntin’, I’d learnt that it was a pack of dogmen that had moved into the area, come from somewhere on the other side through the leyline that went through the area.  Kinda like werewolves, only without the subtlety, I ‘spose.

It weren’t the brightest decision I ever made to track these things, to be sure, but I was young and dumb back then.  They knew I was a trackin’ them pretty quick, and it weren’t long before they came after me.  Musta been a good two-dozen of them in that pack.  Asher and I both got one hell of a workout that first encounter, and thankfully they’d only sent half a dozen after the lone human and her horse, thinkin’ I was easy prey.  They weren’t countin’ on me havin’ magic bullets, nor on Asher movin’ faster than them.  He weren’t just no ordinary horse, after all, and had grown stronger alongside me.

After that, things got real dangerous, real cat n’ mouse kind of huntin’, and I took a few licks myself.  If you can, I’d recommend NOT getting’ bit or clawed by dogmen; ain’t a pleasant thing.  I must’ve been out there in those fields and patches of trees for a good two weeks trackin’ these things in and out of the places where they’d jump the Veil.  Each time I’d come across a portal, I’d work up the ritual to seal it off, usually havin’ to fend off another bunch of the pack while I did it.  They eventually got the hint, though, and cleared out of the territory, and I put up as strong a warding as I could in the area to bolster the Veil, though I don’t expect it to have lasted forever.  Ain’t had a chance to make it back there to follow up, cause my life would take a drastic turn after that little excursion. 

#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’.