Iron Quill - (Metamorphosis): Drawn to Chaos

[E.T.A. Hoffman]

Part I: http://wyrd-games.ne...t-venas-violin/

Part II: http://wyrd-games.ne...tomorrows-town/

Part III: http://wyrd-games.net/community/topic/101371-iron-quill-honesty-the-ashen-landscape/

 

 

 

“Mercy, you are a bandit Mr. Fairweather. You’ve stolen my affection like a moonlight thief,” said the Fancy Lady in her best, fake southern bell accent. She had once heard that Earth-side folk in some regions talked in a drawling slang and men of the breach were often smitten by it.

 

“Lady Fidelia, please call me Goodrich,” said Mr. Fairweather. He touched a cloth napkin to his perfect chevron mustache.

 

“Well, Sir Goodrich,” she ran a finger across the lace of her bustier. The subtle motion drew his eyes to her amble breasts. He was trying valiantly not to look, she commended him for that, but he had already lost this game. “Perhaps such a gentlemen as you would accompany a young lady to her abode. The streets are brimming with men much worse than moonlight thieves.”

 

She’s already mine, he thought. His masculine facial features curled into a smile. “I wouldn’t sleep well not seeing you home safely.”  A large script note was left to pay the tab for the drinks they barely had touched, he noticed her eyes linger just a fraction longer than was proper on the wad of cash he carryied.

 

The downtown streets of Malifaux were warm and lit with elegant gas lamps. They were mostly disserted apart from the odd guardsmen patrol or drunkard. Each unit would give Mr. Goodrich Fairweather an eye but his stately attire brokered no argument. They knew better than to inquire about, what might be, an important official’s business at such an hour.

               

Lady Fidelia’s apartment was not far, it was tiny place but well-furnished and situation over a bank. She had paid for none of it with her own money, not that she had any. Her preferred clienteles often gifted her quite nicely.

 

Inside she poured her guest a drink from a crystal decanter. He rested in her plush, leather sofa while she promised to return wearing something more comfortable than a dress. Idly, Mr. Fairweather sipped his drink and tried to analyze its vintage, it was very unusual.

 

She returned moments later wearing a lot of black lace and little else. There was a loud crack as he limbered up with a good neck stretch. Gently she slid into his lap.

“Before we begin, what I’m sure will be a spectacular night for us both, let me give you something,” said Mr. Goodrich.           

 

“A gift? A lady would never refuse,” she smiled wide, but she was also surprised they had stopped for something so trivial.

               

From the pocket of his coat emerged a small wooden box with brass borders. He opened it and instantly the room was filled with oddly sensual timbre. The tiny wheel ringing as it tapped the carefully tuned metal leafs.

 

“It’s beautiful, thank you,” she said warmly then made to close it.

               

His hand caught hers before she could close the box. He passionately kissed her. For many moments they embraced.

 

What’s taking so long, she wondered.

 

Why hasn’t it worked, he wondered. 

 

The moments became tense. They pulled away from each other. She awkwardly looked away and he inspected his shoes.

 

“Perhaps more drink!” she proclaimed. She poured him another glass but he was too busy inspecting his music box to take it.

 

“What’s the matter with you!” she yelled suddenly.

 

“Me?” he responded incredulously, “what’s the fault with you. Are you not swooned?”

 

“No, am I supposed to be?” she asked.

 

“Well… yes… that’s what usually happens,” he said.

 

“Drat! We’ll have to do this the classic way,” she said while jumping to her feet. Then her face changed, growing long. Teeth, many rows deep, poked wickedly from her stretching mouth. Razor sharp nails sprouted from long spindly fingers on twisted limbs. She faced him, letting him take in her full terrible form, all the while smiling hungrily.

 

Her face faltered; where she had expected terror she only saw mild confusion.

 

“Aren’t you frightened? Men usually are when I do this,” she said.

 

“Oh, no you’re terrifying, truly. It’s just that…” he paused as he stood. Suddenly he too was transforming. Long legs grew from his back, four of them, each hairy and pointed with claws. At least a dozen eyes emerged from his head which too swelled in size. His skin changed to a hard, black chitin.

 

“This… is unsettling…” she said after a long moment of silence.

 

“Yeah…” he replied.

 

***

 

Outside in the street a young girl and a small cat approach the bank. She was wore a thick, dark brown duster and a wide brim hat, anyone looking at her would think she was a man. Which was what Nell wanted; in the years since she had left home she had learned that young girls were always seen as victims. And she was pretty far from just a young girl, time had changed her, mind body and soul; each with its own scars now.

 

The cat, Bingles kept to the shadows, it was his habit; a creatures of the darkness, always the predator.

 

“Confident you caught the clue?” he asked.

 

“I wouldn’t know,” she said tersely. “It’s been a long walk to here, this better damn well be it.”

 

Ash came flowing out of her mouth, it was a bitter and uncanny feeling that she had learned to deal with. The Children of Char, the ancient people she had made yet another bargain with were getting ready to speak. She really preferred it when they didn’t. From out of her own mouth came the singsong whisper of many voices.

 

“The Great Arachnid, Ruin, is a lustful beast. It has spawned many offspring yet few of them remain now. We can feel this one’s presence. It will lead us to him,” They said.

 

Nell coughed hard; she tried to keep it quiet. “Fine! Fine! Just stop talking,” she wheezed.

 

The ash returned to her lungs where it remained a constant burning sensation.

 

***

 

“I’m just going to go then,” said Fairweather.

 

“Why?” asked Lady Fidelia. She tilted her head. “I’m still hungry.”

 

Fairweather bristled. “There are plenty of easy treats out there,” he indicated the door. “No need to quarrel in here.”

 

“I have a rule, more like a personal goal really. I never let pray escape.” She moved a step closer.

 

“A lady’s whim.” His sharp limbs stretched out, ready to embrace her, but this time in combat.

 

They both looked at the door a moment before there was a soft knock on it. It smelled... human.

 

“Isn’t that convenient,” she said. “I better let it in.”

 

Fairweather turned back into a man, suave as ever. Fidelia placed a hand on the door knob. “Um, perhaps you might want to freshen up?” said Goodrich.

 

It took a moment for her to realize what he meant. She shook hard and the monster was replaced once more with a classy woman, although one dressed not for company.

 

The moment she opened the door she was blasted with a wall of noise and searing heat. It tossed her all the way across the room where she landed in a heap. Fairweather stared in shock. In the doorway was a young woman holding a glowing violin and a tiny white cat at her feet.

 

“Was that him?” she asked. Goodrich had no idea if she was talking to him.

 

“No, not him,” replied the cat.

 

“What in damnation is going on today?” he asked.

 

The girl rounded on Goodrich; it looked as if she was aiming her instrument at him. “I bet that’s him.”

 

“Him who? Who are you looking for and why did you attack my… friend?” said Goodrich. He was really fumbling now and he knew it. Usually he had the advantage, his prey never knowing what they were up against. Things tonight were going too strangely, he just wasn’t prepared enough.

 

“I’m looking for your father. I’m looking for Ruin,” said Nell.

 

Now Goodrich knew that the world was coming down around him. This was not right, he was the predator, he was the hunter, and now this tiny child was shaking him down for information? That won’t due, not at all. The anger was rising in him, the urge to lurk once more in the shadows and devour.

 

“I’m afraid you must be mistaken,” he said. It was a bad lie, everyone knew it.

 

“Once chance or I’ll extract it from you,” said Nell. Her hands looked ready to play and Goodrich wasn’t sure what would happen when she did.

 

“Alright, you’ve seen through me,” he said. The smooth charmer was coming back. Perhaps there was a play he could still make. Whatever this girl was, she was no stranger to violence. He had to be careful.

 

“My name is Goodrich Fairweather. I haven’t seen my father in a long time. Last time I had a different name.” He paced about, casually looking around the room as if to he might find some memory within. His hand casually lifted the unwound music box; it had stopped playing for a while now. He closed it.

 

Nell took a step in the room. “I don’t need a story, I need a location. Tell me now.”

 

There was something very strange about this girl, Goodrich could feel it. “Last time I saw him was-,” but he never finished. The music box was opened and the sensual melody was filling the room. The girls face became placid; she started gently swaying in place.

 

“Feels good doesn’t it?” he asked, walking over to Nell. He transformed before her but her face didn’t change, it remained vacant and oddly satisfied. “My music box is very unique. I found it a long time ago, not too long after I last saw Ruin. It causes a waking paralysis of pleasure. You don’t even want to fight it. Not until I’ve begun to devour you, but by then you’ll be dead all too quickly for it matter.”

 

Bingles stepped in front Nell. Suddenly he was Vena again, the creature of the forest, massive and deadly with his many arms, razor fur, and gaping maw.

 

Goodrich halted before the monster. He wasn’t sure it was something he wanted to tangle with, he preferred the easy prey. He heard movement behind him. Fidelia was waking, he still had a chance.

 

Fidelia staggered to her feet as a monster. She had inadvertently transformed during the attack. She looked very confused.

 

“We have guests, perhaps you’d like to show them out?” asked Goodrich. A savage look crested her mangled face. She wanted revenge on the girl. He smiled, the cat was outnumbered.

 

“Nell, play you pathetic pawn. Rebel, resist the reliquary of restraint,” said Bingles.

 

Goodrich blanched. Ash was flowing from her mouth and into her ears. What is she, his mind screamed. The vacant expression faded, a look of fury replaced it. Slowly, as if moving through water, the child began playing. It was a pitch as sharp as knives. Goodrich screamed as the sounds carved their way through his head, resonating inside his carapace.

 

Fidelia lunged forward. Bingles met her. Dwarfed her. In a sea of claws, fury, and blood she was torn asunder.

 

“Where is he!” yelled Nell.

 

Goodrich screamed.

 

“Where!” she played a harsh note and somehow more pain exploded through Goodrich.

 

“I’ll tell you! I will tell you!” he was sobbing, his part insect and part human face contorting and chittered madly.

 

The music stopped but only slightly, it was enough for Goodrich to think. He suddenly dragged his four extra limbs through the air. Shining light filled the room. Nell was blinded for instant and in the instant Goodrich jumped through his portal.

 

“Quick child!” said Bingles.

 

Nell leapt through the hole and Bingles, covered in red gore, followed.

 

***

There was an investigation the next day. The bank owner had called for the Guild when he found Ms. Fidelia’s inhuman remains. They diligently did as little as possible, upon seeing what she was the investigators were more satisfied that she was dead.

 

Days passed and the smell grew unbearable. It took some string pulling but the bank manager eventually got a team out from the Guild to clean the mess up.

 

“I don’t want to see this again,” said the guardsmen, he was their when they first discovered the dead woman.

 

“Why not?” asked the other guardsmen, who was new to it all.

 

“You’ll see,” the older soldier replied.

 

Inside they found Ms. Fidelia mostly as they had left here. Except this time she was being devoured by a horde of insects. Bones shone through her molding flesh as the host of strange critters feasted.

 

The old soldier looked at the young, both revolted. “That's why we never came back here!”
 

    

 

Theme: Metamorphosis
Character: Courtesan
Line: "That's why we never came back here!"
Item:  Music Box

Location: Doorway