From the Journal of Farrahn Moriaden (part 3-5)

[shawnreed343]

114 PF, Sept 13th

Alas, that I’ve been unable to put pen to paper for the last several days. Granted, presently I’ve all the time I could want to do so. Though I am freezing my balls off. As long as I move around every few minutes I manage to stay warm enough to be uncomfortably cold. And the writing keeps circulation to my hand. So do pardon any curt manners I may display. I quite intensely dislike the cold. In any case, I shall best update these past few days as I can from memory.

Sept 10th-

Though I did not expect it, just over half of my requisition order for bullets had come in by the time I was ready to leave, and I needed to make purchase of a cigar box to hold them. I had made the outrageous request with the intent of driving home that I was not joking in intending to buy as many bullets as I could find on such short notice. What I hadn’t anticipated was actually getting more than a fraction of what I expected. True, it cost me more than I expected, as I had planned to chew the man out considerably to drive the price for the bullets far down, but at that amount of success I didn’t have the heart.

Stone-face was up before I was, and I have suspicions he was up before dawn, burning offerings outside town for success on our venture. I noticed he had replaced and or cleaned the daggers used in the fight the night before. He stood outside waiting for me at a farmer’s early hour, and though his face said nothing, his eyes said he was eager to get started. I headed out to the stable, as I had the idea of renting a horse to carry me the long walk there, but the stablemaster informed me of a policy against renting out to anyone riding the mount breachside. Sensible, considering many a horse in Malifaux is not long for the world, skittish as earthside horses are. I had to settle on the thought that I might be able to pick one up on the other side. Still, even offering something for the trouble, it didn’t take me long to realize the man wouldn’t take anything short of the full price for the horse, which was not in my coinpurse at the time. So I settled to the unfortunate business of walking.

Two unexpected turns of events in less than the same number of hours- it would have made sense to take it as a sign, but I had been lulled by the comfort of the night before.

The hike was itself quite uneventful. We made a stop for lunch around midday, some three quarters of the way there. Noticeable changes were slight, though I remember a few, including a two-tailed scorpion and remarkably large insect that hissed at me before I pulled out my Colt and answered.

The breach point happened to be an old coal mine nobody had been crazy enough to buy up. So a few coal carts sat rusting on the tracks. “Storm comes.” I remember Stone Crow telling me. And I’d be a son-of-a-gun if he wasn’t right, though I only registered if after. Dark clouds were spilling over the mountains. One of my rare moments of short-sightedness, I considered the best move to be heading in as soon as possible. One little known traveling tip between Earth and Malifaux are that places line up with the environment on the other side most similar. Hardly matters the distance, and even I have a bit of trouble picking out what all the conditionals are. But I figured waiting around would shift the parallels further away from where I wanted us to be the longer we waited. So once again into the breach, my friends!

After the moments of mental impairment that come with stepping over, I was dismayed to find we had arrived into a light flurry of snow with perhaps six inches on the ground. Stone Face’s face almost moved, I daresay, as he had the gall to ask for my coat. I told him to go kill a buffalo.

Pulling out my compass I made some rough calculations as to our whereabouts and the general heading we should take. No map of Malifaux is ever entirely complete, and I’ve taken it upon myself to sketch in details where I go. It seemed we were no farther off than I had predicted the day before, and we set a course ten degrees south by seven degrees east. It became something of a habit for me to check my compass as we tracked through the snow. My companion had no comment.

Uneventful as that day was, we made camp amidst a cluster of pines which was turning into a pine forest edging the plain we were following. Stone Crow had a fire going by the time I had my tent set up, and it was beginning to get dark. I was about to pull out my journal for a few notes when there was something I can only place akin to the whooshing of great wings above us, and you might have thought Stone Face had cracked. He got all excited, jumped straight up as though he had a coal shoved up his butt, and grabbed me by the laurels of my coat. I had my hand on my old trusty Colt and might have pulled it I was so surprised except he exclaimed ‘Thunderbird!’ and started running off through the snow in the gloom. I was brushing myself off when I noticed he’d filched my bag of soulstones, and that made me pop up and give chase like I had a horde of warpigs gouging my rearside.

Catching up it seemed I’d been a little late, though not terribly so. I whipped up a bit of light to see better. Stone Crow had discarded the bag in the snow and had one of the soulstones in hand. Perched atop one of the trees, pretty durn near snapping the top off it was bent over so far, was a gigantic looking bird so big it could have flown away with me in one foot. But the soulstone that had been filched was giving off a cherry sort of glow and creating a weird sort of eminence that was reaching out for the bird. But the scene had trouble looking all over it. The soulstone was cracking, I could tell as I’d seen them give before after good solid use. And the bird was staring daggers at Stone Face, who was sweating despite the cold and giving off steam. Seemed there was a struggle of wills going on but, far as I could tell one stone just wasn’t enough brass to handle the big bird. Well, figuring the hand already dealt I picked up the bag and pulled out another of the stones. That boy sure has stones, for it looking like he might be a tasty bird snack.. he just doesn’t have enough. So adding up mine I sunk myself down into that stone I held so deep it started to become powder. There’s a certain arcane trick of the mind I know that allows me to make something I cast it on think my next few words make the most sense ever, though it usually lasts only a handful of seconds. Enough for being in a jam. Well I added that little bit of power in with the thread Stone Crow already had out, but it seems that whatever Stone Crow was doing was far deeper and somehow intrinsic of him. Not much wonder he couldn’t do it on just one stone. But those two magics, his and mine, the Thunderbird succumbed. It was full over taken. And I tell you, I’ve never had that spell of mine go deep as the soul, but I’d swear it sure did just that.

Told Tweety Thunder to calm down and that bird minded faster than a soldier in the Mexican Army. Stone Face must have left his face back at camp because the one he had then was full of awe and surprise. He spoke a lot, for him, in some gibberish I don’t understand, but I caught the word ‘totem’ and something I thought might be ‘great spirit’. Thought he might have flung himself onto his belly before me if it weren’t all snow. Who could say. I told Tweety to stay put, and while we were walking back to camp Stone Crow was treating me like Grand General of the some world-spanning armada! Gave me all kinds of swearing this and swearing that and owing me this and that and boiled down to that it seemed that, whether I liked it or not, I’d aquired a manservant for the rest of my life. Plum gave me a headache to where by the time I’d gotten back I didn’t even feel like pulling out my journal and hit the woolens instead.

Sept 11th

Got up and found that it was snowing outside. Stone Face was already up, and I couldn’t tell if he’d slept at all or not. But he had gotten his usual face back, even though he stuck to me like a second shadow as I broke down camp. Glad it was one of those gentle snows. The kind you like to see around Christmas, pretty and such, but still sucks to travel in. Fixed some greasy bacon and toast with some melted down snow and ate on the move, seeing as I didn’t want to get bogged down with the snow. Waved one of my fingers around the sky a few times, I think. So after telling Tweety to follow and keep an eye out, we headed off. Smart bird, I swear, more common sense than some humans. Thought I caught some Sabretooth Cerberus’ lurking around the edges of the woods except Tweety kept visible and probably seemed a bit too menacing. Either that or they might have thought trying to snack on old Stone Face would chip their teeth.

Well, we must have traveled twenty miles, eight or so hours later, when I decided we would give our legs a rest and grab some grub. Settled down my pack and checked the map and did some figuring and cursed a few times. Near as I could tell we had missed the one road up through these parts by a couple miles on account of all the snow. Probably walked right by it without even knowing. Don’t know that I’d mentioned it, but we were tacking down between mountains and forests following the ridgeline. Well, that’s important seeing as I didn’t think to look up until I heard some big old boulders tumbling down pretty much over our heads. Made some Union style signals to Stone Crow hoping he’d understand and rolled myself out of the way. Apparently a family of molemen had decided they were going to be clever with an ambush. Can’t blame Tweety for not noticing, hey, I wouldn’t see the ground much less what’s below with all the snow coming down. But that bird took the clue soon enough and started wheeling our way to help. Didn’t need to, really, as I got off two shots with my baby putting one down for good. Before I could play any more whack-a-mole, though, the other two disappeared. “You take that hill, Stone, you hold that position!” I called out but, weirdly enough, the snow had decided to pick up in a squall and I wasn’t even able to see where I was pointing at.

So not quite sure if he had heard me as I didn’t know where he was, I decided to get to the higher ground myself. And no sooner found myself being blocked by two giant-sized icicles and my own grumpy reflection. Aw hell.

“Hey, ‘Tina!” I called out into the storm, “Why don’t you come out and let’s talk? I’m sure whatever you think I’ve done we can work out. Let’s kiss and make ou, err, up, let’s. I’ll take you to tea. Or are you still all ruffled because I’m not all keen on meeting your daddy?”

Her reflection appeared in the ice, and let me tell you seeing her anything other than as cold-faced as Stone Face, even that hint of pissed she can get with that one eyebrow, wow, it only makes her more beautiful. It’s like her hair is black silk and her skin white satin, and her eyes all deep as a mountain lake. She’s got a thing for fur, too. And those black lips just turn me on. How I would definitely not mind squeezing those furs. But digressing as I am. No, right now she definitely has a hissy fit to get over. “Your delusions have nothing to do with this, Farrahn. I simply cannot take lightly a casual theft of my hard-earned soulstones.” She told me, all cool and hard-ass like, damn but she is sexy when she’s angry.

“Oh hun, come now! What, these are supposed to be yours? Be reasonable luv, I came by these on the other side. How would I know I was jilting a sweetie like you rather than some rotten asshat, like Nicodem maybe. Oh now, don’t give me that look darlin’! Are you genuinely telling me you tracked me down, one man in all the world for a few soulstones? Or are you finally going to confess you love me after all and that I’ve melted that icy heart of yours?”

Whoo-eey, if looks could kill. But getting a rise out of her, it would be worth it for any true-blooded man. Even though getting blasted in the face with what amounts to arctic hail and knocked on my ass wasn’t the kind of reply I was hoping for. The kind I expected, oh, sure, but not the kind I hoped for.

I remember feeling like the sky came down on me, I could have sworn I was being rained on by ice-bricks, but one of them must have clunked me on the head because I lost cognition for pretty much the rest of the day.

Sept 12th

And woke up here. I’ve a really good idea where I’m at. ‘Tina’s place. Maybe the fridge. I think she’s giving me the cold shoulder. But I figure I wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t thinking about warming up and talking sooner or later, maybe even apologizing. It only makes sense, though women sometimes make very little sense.

And she left me my journal! The dear, at least I’m not in prison bored. Though she did take my weapons and soulstones. Cold hearted woman. Making me want to think she doesn’t care.

.

Well, sooner or later something will turn over. Surprisingly, there is a fireplace in my cell, probably the one reason I’m not an icecube just yet. But it’s not exactly cozy like I imagine Santa’s cabin would be. No, this is pretty much an Ice Palace. Nestled atop a frozen lake, she’s got herself a fortress that’s pretty much the demesne of her and her snowmen. I kindof take it she’s not much of a people person. Probably shy, but I bet deep down she’s just lonely and looking for the right person. Though the ‘Tina I know, and I do know her well enough to say as much, loves nature. I mean truly feels something for it most of the rest of us feel for homes and friends and lovers. And I know one thing I don’t particularly agree with, considering the things I’ve heard. She wants to revive her daddy. Old Rasputin himself. And reason I wouldn’t want to see her old man isn’t just on account he’s got bigger man-parts than two of me, but that it was hard enough to put the man down the first time. One of the details they left out of the books that I heard through a reliable source by word of mouth is that they needed to shove Soulstones down his throat when they threw him in the river to drown and freeze. And I’m thinking something must have passed in those final moments because ‘Tina’s soul is downright uncomfortably intimate with the freezing icy cold surrounding her father’s death. Last time, back when I was with her for a while, she made these little hints like she had found a way to bring him back, and these hints like I was going to help her with it. So I started getting suspicious on account I had no clue what she was actually hinting at, and did what seemed sensible at the time. I escaped. Well, felt like it… though you might see me putting it down here as ‘ran out on her’. Maybe even when she was starting to trust me. Well, yeah, I was young and didn’t take into account the ignorance of a sweet thing being natural being all sheltered up like this pretty much all her life. So I may have made a mistake but one thing I know, being the master of my surroundings that I am. Only dying is a mistake you can’t change, unless you’ve tipped off the gravedigger. So what I mean to say, is that with the right kind of negotiating, you can achieve anything. Or maybe you can’t, but I sure can, being, after all, the one and only Farrahn Moriaden.

Edited September 14, 2010 by shawnreed343

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This part lost me. Sorry, but it is either rushed or incomplete.

[shawnreed343]

There's certainly more to come. I'm trying to keep it in a day-by-day format, and had to account for my own absense by having Farrahn unable to write for the past three days and then getting it all down from memory. You bet it's incomplete! There's a heckalot more still to come.

[shawnreed343]

Alright guys; I've started the next section but just don't have the oomph to complete it tonight/this wee morn'. I had my Witchhunter minis come in and spent what might have been writing time sculpting bases and base-coating them all. And tomorrow I'll likely be putting my new crew to action- maybe even hunting down Rasputina (because someone believes she can beat Sonnia, mhuahahahaa). But, like I say, I've started it, and it'll be up in a day or two.