Nov NBR:The Master of Dreams Versus The Red Chapel Gang

[Thechosenone]

Red Chapel Gang

:seamus

Seamus

Bete Noir

Copycat Killer

2 Crooked Men

Madame Cybille

2 Rotten Belles

3Night Terrors

Strategy- Deliver a Message

Scheme- Grudge

Bad Dreams

:dreamer

Dreamer/Lord Chompy

2 Stitched Together

3 Daydreams

2 Teddies

Coppelius

Strategy- Plant Evidence

Scheme- Kidnap

“Ha! This is fun!” The boy screams as he flies through the night shrouded streets of the Crowcoil district. The stirring chill air feels fresh on his face, the crumbling edifice of Crowcoil’s massive clock tower ticks rhythmically and in its churning gears he hears beautiful music.

“This place used to be a grand sacrificial alter where fear and blood flowed in equal parts. I greedily we fed.” A whisper creeps from nothingness to storm around the boy.

“That’s gross Lord Chomy-bits.” The boy says with a smile. It’s gross but he likes gross things even though his parents told him not to.

“They must be made to remember. The City must be made to remember.”

The sighs “Ok. Fine.” He points toward one of the tall textile merchant shops and flies closer. “This one good?”

He lays his hand upon it and the brick warps under his will. The interior of the textile shop fills with fire while its face heaves and shudders till it becomes a toothy grinning visage filled with flames. “Done?”

“More. We must do more.”

Turn One

The Whispers urge the Boy down Encarmine Avenue and to the largest building in the district. The Boy doesn’t know what it is but its smokestacks reach high into the angry black air. He flies through it setting changes in motion, infecting stone and mortar with his wildest imaginations. Runes not seen by living eyes for countless eons are birthed by the dying walls of the factory.

The Boy grabs a lamp post and it starts to reshape into an iron work sculpture shaped like an impaled man spending his final moments writhing about and screaming into a an uncaring heaven.

“Oh me boyo, what ye be doin’ ta me streets?” The Boy’s hand snaps away from the sculpture and it reverts back to its former state. He turns to see a man in a funny hat carrying a black medical bag. He’s surrounded by beautiful women and loyal burly men.

“Reminding the vermin of what came before them” The boy says “Well, that’s what Chompy says anyway.”

The man in the hat nods “mmhmm, very interestin’ dat is.” Seamus says while loading his pistol.

“Chompy, they don’t believe me. You tell them.”

“With pleasure Chosen One.” The shadows around the boy run like wet paint. Reality buckles as shapes press against it from some unknown ether beyond the sight of men.

Seamus watches with piqued curiosity as two living sacks of blood and bone emerge. They giggle and laugh and with hooked hands they hold dice and playing cards.

“I’d wager they’re all dead by dawn.” One of them says as maggots tumble out its mouth.

“You willing to gamble a life on that?” The other says, its face painted with a white hand print across its mouth and eyes.

The first stitched monstrosity opens its gaping mouth and inside its girth are dozens of still screaming rotted faces that are barred from death. They forever die. “I’d say I have lives to spare.” The duo giggle and sprint toward the enemy.

A fat juggernaut of a Teddy Bear bounds from the crumbling barrier between worlds howling with feral rage. It’s followed by a lanky tall gaunt scarecrow clutching a harvest scythe. Where the teddy is rage this is silent terror. Musical notes flitter across the night and carry in the Dreamer’s Daydream, a bulbous chubby little green demon with a duntz cap on its rubbery head.

“ooooh night time is a scary time.” Mr. Squish warns anyone that will listen.

The boy fades into the empty wound that hangs in space. The rotted cadre of Seamus’ crew all look up. The embers of awe and fear stir in their festering hearts. A creature breeches the material universe from the nameless nowhere beyond and bellows into the night. It reminds the city that it has returned home and the city obeys. It carries his rage through every street and district.

The Teddy rips into Seamus’ flock of spectral bats felling one immediately.

“Girlllssss.” Madame Cybelle moans, her head lopping from side to side as she addresses her women. “Time toooo aahhh…” Her words slow and rattle about her stretched mouth “put those loooooks to good use.”

“Madame, you have beautiful eyes” Cybelle turns in time to see a creature of tentacle and fine tailoring. Its long fingers reach for her face and it’s touch sends a paralyzing chill through her ripped skin.

Turn Two

“Ey jist… wanted te tell ye…” Seamus gurgles “We know ye here. Ye secrets is out there and we’re lookin fer em’”

The wall of the factory quivers after every impact. Its brick wall dents and masonry crumbles but Lord Chompy-bits continues to hammer the broken boned corpse of Seamus against the wall till he finally drops it into a pile of shattered limbs and blood, satisfied that the twisted little man will stay dead for now.

“You are what vermin fear!” The creature snarls. Its voice is as much spoken by an alien mouth as it is spoken by the very city itself. “I am what gods fear!”

Turn Three

The bats flitter and flock around the Teddy’s head biting and clawing. He throws up his arms and pouts like a child running back into the factory where the bats follow. One of Seamus’ crooked necked miners grips the wall of the building sending tremors through the structure till part of the wall caves in on the bats and the Teddy. One bat leaves the ruin, nothing else does.

Turn Four and Five

“Oh… ladies please. I must insist that you get a hold of yourselves” Corrpelius begs as he is battered by umbrellas and riding crops. He eventually slithers back into the nameless place rather their relentless barrage.

“Lovvvvleeey work” Cybelle congratulates her belle companion. The rotted whore explodes under the impact of Chompy-bit’s claws.

Madame Cybelle looks to her left, the sound of a rattling draws the attention of her pus filled ears. One of the Stitched body bags wobbles down the street, dice clutched in its moist grip. “Wanna play a game?” It asks.

A spotlight spills breeches the night air, radiating from that nameless place and strikes the ground where the Stitched thing’s dice fall. Another set of dice tumbles from nowhere beside Cybelle’s feet and where they rest another stream of light strikes. She rolls less.

“Uh-oh. House wins.”

Where Cybelle stands instead there is thunder, cataclysm and searing brightness. When the flash of theatrics fades Cybelle is gone and only a crater in the street remains. The Stitched laughs as his strings unravel and his mess spills across the street.

Turn Six

(Called Game)

The Daydreams creep and crawl around the Dreamer while he directs the grim scenery of Encarmine Avenue into more appalling effigies.

“Good time. I like those guys.” Mr. Shatter, the deep voiced pink dream says.

“I’m pretty scared of them. Did you see, I think they were all in a carriage accident.” Mr. Squish offers nervously.

“Look Lord Chompy-Bits. I’m decorating it the way you like.”

The Whispers are quiet. The words of Seamus run through its alien consciousness over and over. Its arrival is known, the message was clear. Its presence here is not a secret and there are others out there who know of him as well.

“Don’t be so grumpy.” The Boy says. “Smile. Maybe that fellow was lying? I bet we can still play surprise games with people.”

“Perhaps, my Chosen One, perhaps.” The Whispers recede into the nameless place while the Boy does his work.

Results

All Schemes and Strategies accomplish.

Tied Game.

:no::ahhhhh::five:

[Ozz]

I loved reading that, i hope you write more

"“You are what vermin fear!” The creature snarls. Its voice is as much spoken by an alien mouth as it is spoken by the very city itself. “I am what gods fear!” "

Loved that line as well:)

[the_madhatter1]

nice report, not such a fan of narrative reports but i was pleasantly surprised

[Thechosenone]

I loved reading that, i hope you write more

"“You are what vermin fear!” The creature snarls. Its voice is as much spoken by an alien mouth as it is spoken by the very city itself. “I am what gods fear!” "

Loved that line as well:)

I appreciate that sir and i really do like having "flagship" phrases that describe the tone and point of a story. That would be one of those Flagship phrases.

nice report, not such a fan of narrative reports but i was pleasantly surprised

Thanks madhatter, i always appreciate the comments on my stuff. Feels good to have feedback.

and for those of you that enjoy the style i've got lots of stuff in the writing sections. Specifically if you want more of my take on this Dreamer crew here's the two I have done:

http://wyrd-games.net/forum/showthread.php?t=26290

and

http://wyrd-games.net/forum/showthread.php?t=26545

Thanks for comments gentlemen and thanks to all who read.

[Kadeton]

I appreciate that sir and i really do like having "flagship" phrases that describe the tone and point of a story. That would be one of those Flagship phrases.

My favourite line was "Did you see, I think they were all in a carriage accident." Nicely understated.

[bldyhll666]

+1

[Thechosenone]

Thanks gentlemen, glad you enjoyed that bit. That particular daydream is the blunt and dopey one.