Rising

[moonrise]

As some of you had read before, i was planning on making a game system with a friend, who, sadly, had deserted me after he inherited his uncle's estate in spain *grumble grumble*. i had then started to lose hope.

fortunately, though, a talented mind decided to help me out on this journey. and i am very grateful for his aid i know with his assistance we can bring this idea to fruition

We, v22TTC and me, moonrise, had decided to go for fluff first, before system. i like the idea as well, since we can flesh out major highs first before they manage slip out of our grasp haha.

without further ado, we are pleased to present you guys with the first bits of fluff. it's an introduction to one of the major characters, written by v22TTC, and we hope you guys like it

here it is:

Rising

First Arc: the Assault on Anachrauna

The small, turquoise-haired girl slid ever nearer to her prey; an obliviously grazing, plump sheep. Too young to be abroad in these times – there were still bands of betrayers and demons roaming – her Clan learned their fieldcraft early ... and even the Elders had yet to devise any effective method of preventing her from, well, going wherever she pleased whenever she pleased.

Their attempts to punitively bind, guard or encage her always dissolved into embarrassing failures for all concerned – except for the little girl, who merely addressed these actions as puzzles, challenges, to be solved and overcome.

Obedient to a fault ... well, usually, in all other matters; her core innately rebelled against the physical constraining of her Form in any way – she was a Hunter: her purpose was to Hunt. To that end, as she slithered, crawled, crouched and tip-toed towards her prey, at least one hand had a soot-smeared dagger in it at all times. Despite the gangly, not too well coordinated, foal-like nature of all children, her Clan’s Chief Armsman had grudgingly allowed that – in the use of daggers – she “... showed promise....”

It had taken her an hour to get into the correct approach to the sheep; from downwind, blazing sun low and behind her, but she was near now, gradually picking up her pace – lest the beast smell her (though there wasn’t much to smell) or the favourable conditions whimsically abandon her – whilst retaining her silence and patience. Though in the settlement, it was not unknown for her to shriek and giggle and sing boisterously (and no chicken or piglet remained unchased when she was around...), or for her to be as impetuous as all children; on The Hunt, she was Silence and limitless Patience personified: sound seemed to not be able to find her, in order to attach itself to her actions, and time simply ceased to exist anywhere near her psyche.

Yet other things followed their embinding to time, and the sun was climbing ever higher – soon it would cease to dazzle the sheep and would merely highlight her – her final sprint would have to be soon.

A claw tapped her lightly, twice, on her back. Though startled, Stealth was who she was so she didn’t jump or gasp – nothing that would give her hard-earned position away – and slowly turned her head.

Low to the ground, just behind her feet, was a leonine face, five – ten! - times as large as she was, one reptilian forefoot hovering just over her. The foot touched the ground and the creature rose, and rose, and rose ... to its full height, utterly blotting out the sun and casting its shadow over almost the entire glade. A few sheep glanced up, then immediately returned to the task and pleasure of filling their bellies with the lush grass.

Glacial eyes bigger than her head regarded her for a second and the creature narrowed its eyes and accused, “You don’t seem to be that hungry, girlchild....”

Enraged – all that hard work for nothing! – she jumped to her feet and thrust a finger towards the enormous face, 30 feet above her, shrilling, “You’ve spoiled my Hunt!” At this, the sheep ran to the other end of the glade, watching her warily.

“No, I fear you just did that....”

“.... And what do you mean ‘I don’t seem that hungry’!? You’d better not be saying I’m fat!” [This not a statement relating to the paranoid and unhealthy image-obsession of a darker time but an affront to all – highly athletic – Hunters everywhere.]

Taken slightly aback by her wrath, the dragon pulled its head back a little, though the effect was much magnified by its sheer size – a slight movement of one so large amounted to an immense movement to human eyes. “Well ... no; it was merely a comment about the other bounty overflowing around you – berries, fruits_”

“You can’t Hunt those!”

The dragon, the Alarum as her people would call them, narrowed its eyes significantly at this and thrust its face forwards, “You would take the life of an animal when not hungry, when other food was available, simply for pleasure!?” Anger coloured the tail-end of the question; only a slight raising of the voice, but again, when issuing forth from a dragon, a little anger went an awfully long way....

Somewhat belatedly, perhaps, the most ancient part of the girl’s brain made her aware that perhaps it wouldn’t be too far amiss to be scared rather than indignant; after all, her people called dragons ‘Alarum’ – ‘Divus Alarum’: ‘Divine Wing’ – but, upon reflection, only the good ones ... and even the good ones had their ways ... and there were evil ones ... and only a fool would take the goodness of a stranger dragon (or anything about any dragon!) for granted ... and there were no warriors around.... Her downy hairs came to resemble pins, her body drenched in sweat and her stomach contained a good three boulders, with a generous leavening of anvils thrown in....

But though a mere cub of a Hunter, Hunter she was through and through, and thus was much in tune with ‘the way things are’ of the Hunter Caste – rather than ‘the way they wish things were’ of the city-dwellers – so she knew she could not use the primary arrows in her quiver (Stealth and Speed) here. But she did indeed ‘show promise’ with daggers; and words could be daggers – bright, shining daggers, unlike her dulled-steel ones. Hands on almost non-existent hips, foot tapping and face jutting forward, she remarked, “I couldn’t help but notice that there are fangs in your mouth....” The fangs that she ‘couldn’t help but notice’ each being longer than her arm – or leg even! – and there were lots of them.

“.... Well, yes ... I do need to eat meat very rarely_”

“So you were born a fully-able Hunting machine – never had to learn or practice?”

“Errrmm_”

“And you only Hunt at the exact point when you need your meat – never a little earlier to make sure you have the meat when you need it, to be safe?”

The majestic creature reared back – comedically – as if struck by the tiny girl before him, her icicle eyes piercing him. He also knew the time to attack! “You dare to question me whelpling?!!” [The cliche rebuke made him feel a little soiled, but he knew that most humans responded best to the hackneyed and tawdry – the familiar and predictable....]

She thought for a second ... “Well, you should either answer my question – asked in good faith – or...” she pointed right at his heart, “I Name thee ‘hypocrite’....”

Eyes seemingly as large as cows, the dragon could only respond with a strangled noise. Collecting himself, “No, we dragons are more complicated than you arrogant and simple folk give us credit for – where you see paradox equating to hypocrisy and contradiction, we see paradox equating to truth, reality and enlightenment: the world is larger than your simple-minded ‘either/or’ ways of looking at it!

“My sheer size – and there is no dragon older/larger – and yet I out-stalked something as miniscule as you! Complicated! Reality!”

Feeling impugned, stamping her foot, “Enchantment!”

“No! Skill!”

“... Truly?” [in a voice as small as she was.]

“Yes.”

“But ... I’ve heard them say, in the settlement, that I’m the best at sneaking around they’ve ever seen ... that there’s nothing else they can teach me ... that I’ve got a destiny as an enemy of the hellforces... [sniff].”

Annoyed at himself for being drawn into injuring this frail child’s feeling of worth, he made his voice a gentle, reassuring rumble, “The world is far larger than your settlement or its set, nomadic paths and there are many more teachers and always more to learn ... you’re only young ... [with a smile] you don’t get to become as old as me without learning a thing or two about stealth....”

Wiping her eyes with the back of her wrist, and angry at herself for her display of weakness, the girl peered deeply into the dragon’s – the Alarum’s – eyes, for so long, and with such intensity, that the Alarum flinched away. “Well,” she said, “Then it appears that – in order to fulfil my destiny and develop this gift to the greater Glory of The Lord – I need another teacher.”

Taken aback by the steady – and humble! - gravitas emanating from this turquoise-haired moppet, the Alarum reluctantly mumbled, “Well, yes ... and I’d consider it the greatest privilege to assist one who’ll shine so brightly, in the service of God, upon her path ... but we dragons can be solitary and secretive creatures – none of us could tolerate becoming curios of a Clan full of people. And yes, territorial: what happens when your Clan takes you on its nomadic migration?”

“I will now briefly return, and leave a note so nobody will worry about me – or come to look for me and disturb your teaching. I’m an orphan – as the other children never tire of reminding me.” [A deep flash in her eyes that could have melted a rock.]

Still attempting to catch up with the momentum of this unforeseen development, the Alarum stalled, “And you will need to collect but a few of your possessions....” [imagining a doll or some such – people often changed course away from adventure when they remembered the comforts they would be forced to leave behind.]

Kallen looked down at herself, patting her leather armour, two daggers and utilitarian blades, quill, parchments and scripture, “I’ve already got them, of course....” [seeming a little confused as to the Alarum’s meaning].

Valkaroth blinked once, “Very well....”

cheers!

[v22TTC]

Yeah, I didn't know Moonrise was going to do this... for the purists, I was playing with the punctuation a little, but have since moved the ellipses to their right and proper places (in addition to a few other things).

There was a title too, which kind of added to feel:-

'Herein, a True History Known to but Few....'

[i was imagining it would be hidden away in the rule book, to reward the attentive fluff-hounds; it being a self-contained 'prequel': please pretend you never read it (those that did), and you'll value the rule book more....]

And the key words are deliberately capitalised (it's a Platonic thing...). Some of the characters do it more than others... Ghelkrauss is shocking for it!

I hope that this has reassured the legions of good folk who worry about such things, and forestalled the thousands of posts we were sure to get.

Sorry to have troubled you: back to my non-lurking....

PS: [While I'm here...] That Malifaux art is so sweet, and that War Pig!!!! Yeah!

[Peterdita]

Nice to hear from you again V22, you should come around more often!