vinush

"the memory of a memory all in a single mouthful" Too many memories... "with the cheap, sweet, rank, sweet liquid" a redundant sweet. Otherwise a very good story. Vince.

Thank you, it is sorted.

I love it. I figured out that the workers were undead straight away, but it was still a most excellent story. One question - what is a haint? Vinush

My story is up - The Lamentable Tale of Abner Moss http://wyrd-games.net/community/topic/104116-the-iron-quill-the-lamentable-tale-of-abner-moss/ As always, comments, etc. are gladly received.

The fire in the hearth was burning low, causing a slight chill to set into the room and breath to mist in the air. Abner shifted the scant coals about with the poker in a vague but futile attempt to elicit a little more warmth from them while Jessica cradled the wailing baby to herself, sharing her body heat while making soothing sounds to quiet it. Abner replaced the poker in the bucket next to the fire and straightened up stiffly. He was so tired lately. He’d been working double shifts at the metal works down in the industrial zone to make up for Jessica’s lost income and then there was the baby’s constant squalling throughout the night. Combined they made him bone weary and sore. Jessica wasn’t looking too good lately either. The bags beneath her eyes had grown darker and darker while the sparkle she once had had faded from her now filmy orbs. Her skin was an ashen grey and puckered like crumpled tissue. She winced as the baby latched on to her raw and swollen nipple to suckle her milk while she fought to hold back her tears. Abner hated watching it feed, but some grim fascination held him enthralled as it greedily sucked the milk out of her now deflated tits, once so plump and round. It was amazing the difference in her since it had been born, as if the past couple of months had been like years to her body. Once she had put her breast away Abner turned, disgusted by the sight of her now, wishing she were still the woman he’d married, wishing the baby had never been born. Without a word he grabbed his coat from the back of the chair by the door and swirled out into the cold night air. As the door closed behind him he just caught the start of Jessica’s muffled sob. Abner wound his way through the streets and found himself stood outside of the Lady Katherine, a rough looking dive of a bar where the women were almost as cheap as the drinks. The doors swung open as a drunken couple spilled out onto the street all giggles and impropriety surrounded by the cacophony of noise from inside. Abner was reminded of the last time he was here, before the baby was born. A sultry looking woman had stepped from the shadows of a nearby doorway and sauntered over to him. Her movements were like fluid as she seemed to cross the distance in no time. She idly let her hand wander down his chest before resting atop his belt. “Buy a lady a drink?” She purred. Her voice was like honey and silk. Abner’s chest felt alight with electricity where her hand had been on its journey south to his britches and he felt himself being drawn into her eyes and plump lips. They entered the bar together, the noise like stepping into a pool of treacle that enveloped them. The smell of liquor mixed with the myriad of cheap perfumes worn by the harlots to make a cloyingly sweet scent that was almost all pervasive. He didn’t recall ordering the drinks, but there was an open bottle of ginner next to them and there was a glass of the silvery drink in his hand. His companion sipped at her drink, her lips parting like some kind of obscene image that filled Abner’s gaze and fanned the flames of lust inside of him. Emboldened by the display he quickly drained his drink, ignoring the fiery burn as it made its way down his throat to almost take his breath away. She leaned in, her lips close enough to brush the edge of Abner’s ear, arousing him more than was proper in such a public venue. “What is it you want, Abner Moss? Anything your heart desires I can give you, for a price…” He didn’t recall giving her his name, but the closeness of her body, the heat from her breasts as they rose and fall and the sensation of her breath on his ear made him force the thought away. His mind immediately went to Jessica, his beautiful wife at home. She so wanted a child, but they weren’t able to conceive. Abner had had an accident last year in the metal works that had left him sterile, the price of progress according to the overseer on his shift, but he knew the hurt and pain it caused Jessica that they could never have a child. Abner swallowed hard; trying not to let himself be drawn into the lascivious promises she was tempting him with. She laughed, a gratingly hard laugh, and shook her hair which coiled about her like serpents. The next thing Abner knew he was at a card table, playing poker and winning. All night long he found himself winning hand after hand as the ginner flowed freely and the woman was nowhere to be seen. By the end of the night Abner was up almost a hundred script as he trotted his way merrily home and his success made the lovemaking between Jessica and him all the sweeter. He never expected that a month later she would be telling him she was pregnant. A miracle, that’s what it was. He’d heard tales of the strange things that could happen in Malifaux, heck, he’d even seen a dozen or so in his first month here, so why wouldn’t Jessica fall pregnant to him? She only had eyes for him, everyone said it. Abner shook himself from his reverie and looked around. The bar hadn’t changed in the past year, it was still the same with the same reputation it had always had. He looked around, searching for the woman. He had to know, had to find out if the child was truly his. How could his own child be so repulsive to him? Surely she had something to do with it. And there she was, stood by the now open door with her arms folded and her breasts dangerously close to spilling from her corseted dress. Her hair still coiled around her, shimmering in the light from inside the bar. He crossed the distance quicker than he though even he could move and grabbed at her arm. A dangerous look flashed across her face and he removed his hand as if her arm was scalding hot in his grasp. “Abner Moss, what brings you back here?” She asked, her voice icily cold. He swallowed, trying to find his voice before he spoke. “I need to know…” “Is the babe yours?” She asked, completing his thought. “You’d like me to say no, that you couldn’t be responsible for siring such an evil little monster. You’d like me to confirm that your angel of a wife could only birth goodness. Well let me tell you, Abner Moss, it would be so nice if things made sense for a change, but that is not the case. The squalling imp is indeed yours; your own rotten seed is responsible for the creature that even as we speak sucks the life from your beloved Jessica, leaving her an empty shell of a woman.” She smiled, her pearly white teeth glistening in the flickering lights from inside. “If I were you I would hurry home and dash its brains against the walls, do us all a favour and spare the world the horror of what it will become…” Abner was repulsed by her harsh words. He wished the look in her eyes were hatred, but it was a sadness that wrenched at the heart. He felt the fire inside of him extinguish as he lost the will to fight, all traces of anger had deserted him as her words had cut him to the core. “What will it become?” He asked weakly, his voice barely a whisper. “Abner Moss, the child you have sired will become nought if you do what needs doing. However, if you do not then we will all perish in the flames of hatred it shall bring…” A tear rolled down her cheek as she looked away. When she turned back he had gone, his rapid footsteps echoing down the alleyway. She turned back, the cruel sneer back to her face as the figure of a man walked out from the Lady Katherine. “Is it done?” He asked. “Yes, he believed every word of it. I did as you requested.” She replied, not meeting the man’s eyes. “Very good. You did well, my dear girl. My assistant will handle your payment.” “Is that us even?” She asked, turning to look at him only to find the space empty. “Mr Lyall wished me to give you this.” She turned to see his assistant standing there who handed her an envelope stuffed with script. “We shall be in touch.” With those ominous words the assistant left her standing there as a shiver ran down her spine… ------------- Words: 1,494 Items used: Location - Industrial Zone Line - It would be nice if something made sense for a change Character - Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

Go on then, I'm in. I'll pm you soon.

I'm in, and welcome aboard Aaron.

Hi guys. I've written a review of my puppet wars game last night if anyone fancies reading it. http://crazywargamer.blogspot.com/2014/10/ill-knock-stuffing-out-of-you.html Vinush

If anyone would like to give me feedback on my story I'd greatly appreciate it, no matter how brutal. Thanks.

Some amazing submissions here guys. Well done for making it so hard for me to cast my votes.

So, we tried the fate master having his own deck thing on Sunday with the following rules: -If the Player Fate Deck or the Fate Master fate deck was shuffled all players got to draw a card. -If the fate master touched the player deck they got to draw a card. -The fate master had one cheat card per player. -When the FM used a cheat card the player it was used against got to draw a card. All in all, it made the combats more challenging without overbalancing the game.

Here you can see my lovely entry... (Phrasing!!!) http://wyrd-games.net/community/topic/103453-iron-quill-the-past-reborn-vengeance/ Vinush

Themes used: Character - The Gentleman Caller Line - The fewer the men, the greater the reward. Words: 718 As an aside, I need to work more on longer stories rather than ones this short... Vinush

The full moon was obscured by the black, rain laden clouds causing the graveyard to appear as a large inky blot. The shadows coalesced at the centre, merging into the elegant shape of the gentleman. He was dressed entirely in black, from his straight cut trousers to his military style jacket with its obsidian buttons he absorbed what struggling light there was. His hand swirled like a conjurer on stage and his wide brimmed hat appeared in his talon-like finger. With a flourish he mounted it atop his fleshless head to hide the gleam of bone from view. As he began to walk, an ebony cane materialised in his hand, its tip clacking on the cracked flagstones beneath his feet before the sound vanished into the still night air. He trod the same path out of the cemetery that he had taken every year since he was alive and moved through the locked gate like a wisp of smoke through a screen door. Ambling slowly down the thoroughfare he ignored the choked off screams of those unfortunate enough to pass him by as they desperately avoided his gaze for fear of whatever grim fate would befall them should they meet his eyes. --- Reuben sat staring at the door with his gun grasped between his hands, the shaking barrel aimed vaguely at the entrance. Isobel had long since gone to bed, leaving him to his silliness as she called it. She’d pouted at how ridiculous he was being. She’d tried everything to get him to join her, used all of the tricks she knew to entice a man between the sheets only to be waved away. She had stamped her foot and cursed him as she tromped upstairs to bed alone. “The devils take you!” She’d cursed before slamming their bedroom door. He wasn’t worried about the devil taking him though… --- The gentleman stopped and turned his head this way then that, as if sniffing the air for some tell-tale scent of his prey. His filmy gaze settled upon the clock tower as it began to chime. Seventeen bells, one for each innocent life lost that night that he was here to avenge. As the final echo of the last chime faded he set off with purpose, his message clearly delivered to those who understood. --- Clack, clack, clack. The sound was like gunshots to Reuben’s frayed nerves. Clack, clack, clack. He’d almost soiled himself when he’d heard the toll of the bell tower invade his trance-like concentration. A miserable whimper had escaped his throat. Clack, clack, clack. The sound was deafening, joining the racket of his pounding heart which threatened to burst from his chest. Reuben held his breath; a silent prayer to the gods of Malifaux went through his head, praying that this was not his time, that he’d last at least another year. CLACK, CLACK, CLACK. Reuben’s sanity finally cracked. His grip on the gun’s handle was slick with sweat, his aim wavering so badly that he was just as likely to hit the floor or ceiling as he was anything coming through the door. The gaslight flickered three times and his breath began to frost in the icy chill of the air. As soon as the black apparition began to emerge through the still locked and barred door Reuben lost the battle for control of his bladder and a warm damp patch spread through his breeches while he mewled like a terrified child. The gentleman raised his hand and pointed a bony finger directly at Reuben’s chest, his rictus grin gleaming in the harsh gaslight that suffused the confined space. CRACK, CRACK, CRACK! Reuben unloaded three shots from his pistol which passed harmlessly through the wraith and bit deeply into the wooden frame of the door. The gentleman reached his icy grasp through Reuben’s chest and began to crush his rapidly beating heart to cause a seeming eternity of agony until it was still. The gentleman turned and vanished from the room, the fading clack, clack, clack or his cane echoing back the way it had come as he returned once more to his resting place within the cemetery until next year. --- As the clouds parted, a single spear of silvery moonlight illuminated the inscription upon the tombstone: The Fewer the Men, the Greater the Reward.

Very nice.

They should all be shipped by now. How you not received delivery notification? If not, check your account on the webstore and see if it's been shipped yet.

Demonic gumshoe and his femme fatalé.

Robo-Poppins... She's practically perfect in every way (apart from the robotic leg...)

The model I've made for El in my TtB campaign. Hope her player likes it. She's full of sass, and dark energy...

My zombie kin (guild autopsy proxies)

Ladies and gentlemen, Thin Diesel

Sent you a pm.

I've assembled some models tonight, 14 to be precise. I'll take some pics and get them posted up on here tomorrow.

What he said.

I thought so.