Worlds Within Worlds

Angel sighs, replacing the scroll in his pack. He finds himself wishing, as he has so many times before, that the consequences of his actions were clear to him before he took them. He is still perhaps a days walk away from the River of Tears, but once he reaches the shore it shouldn't be too difficult to exchange some sort of menial service for passage to Sijan. It may take some time, but the river will deliver him home faster than any other route available to him.

He's not entirely sure what he'll do once he gets there, look for the landmarks familiar from the glimpses of memory. The scroll fascinates him, but he can't deny that perhaps equally important to his visit is the need to know something more about his childhood. Some names and some people to go with the disconnected images that he can recall.

'Blood Tiger' means nothing to him. It's not even quite clear what type of entity it may be, a person, a place or something more complex? Deciding that the most likely answer is that Blood Tiger will be a person or ghost of some kind Angel resolves to track him down the old fashioned way. Once he arrives in the city he'll trawl the bars and the taverns for information on Blood Tiger, and keep his eyes open for familiar sights, anything that might offer him a clue into his own past.

[Hoping for a Manipulation + Investigation roll once in Sijan to gather information on Blood Tiger, on the assumption that it's a person.]

[Good point]

Once Angel hits the river he waits, watching the flow of traffic and trying to assess his likely options. He heads south along the bank, looking out for one of the towns that acts as a port and a waypoint for boats travelling down the river. He waits for dark and heads into the docks, scoping out the boats currently in port.

He spends a little while in the nearest tavern, drinking alone and overhearing the conversations of the sailors, working out the destination and schedule of various of the ships. Getting a short nap in, he makes sure he awakes an hour or two before dawn. Padding silently he glides along the docks and wafts aboard the ship he has selected.

Burning essence now and then to avoid detection he secretes himself in the hold. He tries to find the best spot where he won't have to move around very much, but makes sure he has space to slip into should he need to find a new place to hide, relying on his essence to keep him hidden, and hoping that he won't become too tired or too desperate for food on the way to Sijan.

[Will take motes back for a successful stunt. Since I only respire them through my hearthstone whilst in creation I need every mote I can get.]

Angel rations his supplies to string them out for as long as he can, yet as the voyage continues he becomes increasingly hungry. He preys on the rats that scuttle around the ship's hold, but they are meagre pickings and distasteful at best. And it doesn't take long before the impact of the predator on the rat population is keenly felt.

At first Angel simply hides from the sailors when they come down to acquire supplies. And he tells himself he does this still, yet as the days slip by his hiding places become less subtle, and each time footsteps are felt in his hold he tenses himself, preparing for discovery or ambush. He finds himself increasingly staring at the neck's of these sporadic visitors. He wrestles with himself, what harm would taking the life of one little sailor do? He can see the blood pulsing in the jugular vein, and his own heartbeat echoes in his ears synchronising its rythym.

With increasing difficulty Angel still holds himself back, eking out the last of his supplies. Once the pressure builds too much, once he knows that any longer and he wouldn't be able to stop himself he acts. Waiting once more for the dead of night he wraps his anima around himself like a funeral shroud and stalks out of the hold. He slides off the side of the ship and plunges into the cold waters of the river below. With a shiver he breaks the water and sighing, lazily strokes to shore. He'll hunt at first light for something to eat, and go the rest of the way on foot. It might take longer but at least he won't be tempted again. And he hopes desparingly that his one-time masters won't inflict the usual punishments on him reminding himself yet again that he simply cannot afford to live like a human any more.

[Where am I on the map? At the risk of addding to my journey I may head for the Black Chase in order to make a more significant part of my journey through a shadowland. Or if there is a closer shadowland so I can travel between where I am now and the Black Chase in the underworld?]

I should keep walking, no good can come of this. I can already feel the build up of my masters displeasure, and I'll only end up hurting the things I'm trying to protect. But the girl tugs at me, my legs stop moving forward and I stand staring at her, at her despair, and know that I can't add to my own torment by walking by.

I draw my cloak around me, hoping to look mysterious and a little threatening. It won't help in the short term, but I know from bitter experience that the one thing I can't allow is for this girl to develop an attachment to me. The curse that follows me would fall on her if that happened. I must balance the need to help with protecting her from getting close to me.

I glide up to the girl, and in a gentle voice ask "What happened here?", readying some reassurances if she reacts with fear.

I do as little as I can to comfort the girl. Regretting yet again the fate I have consigned myself to. Rather, I choose to be terse and taciturn.

"You better stay with me, you'll be safe." I sigh. "We'll see if we can find your parents. And we'll make the people who did this pay."

Angel begins to look for tracks of people leaving the scene.

[My survival is not hugely high, if I have some background XP I might bump it at this point...]

[What time of day is it? If twilight is near I might wait for it to get a bit darker. Does the smoke/voices appear to be receding?]

I've been walking for about 15 minutes when my ears prick up to the sound of voices, and the smoke rising in the distance tips me off that I may be approaching my destination. There's enough vegetation around that I could probably ask the girl to hide, but she's spent too much time hiding and not knowing what's going on.

I turn to her, bending slightly to so as not to be speaking down so badly. "You have to be as quiet as possible now. I think that the people that took your parents are just over there," I point towards the smoke, "and we don't want them to know we're coming. Stay as close to me as you possibly can. I might have to ask you to wait for a short time, but I promise I won't leave you alone again, I'll stay very close."

Sighing again with the inevitability of what's about to happen, he begins to travel more cautiously as he approaches the location of the campsite.

Smiling at the fact I will finally get to work out some of my frustrations. I spin and whisper deeply (since I know higher pitches carry better) "Hide. Now. Stay quiet."

With a glance behind me to check she's safe I activate two of my charms; Spider Pounce Technique and Raiton's Nimble Perch from personal essence. And I simply leap straight upwards disappearing from view, with only the merest hint of rustling in the leaves to give away my landing spot.

I stalk silently along the branches above, shifting my position in order to try and get a fix on the movement I heard.

successful one die stunt.

Could you please track essence on your sheet? It's going to be a bigger deal for you than for the others...

The first kick goes exactly to plan as the woman goes sprawling forward unconscious and I land on the next tree perched on the branch. But clearly this little band has better training than I had anticipated as the man doesn't wander around in confusion but rather raises the alarm. The anger begins to swell and swearing silently to myself I launch myself at him. In mid air my face changes, my eyes fade to a deathly pale yellow, my forehead shifts and contorts and my teeth lengthen as my inner predator boils to the surface. I lock my hands on the shoulders of the man, bearing him to the ground and there is just time to whisper "That was a mistake." As I sink my teeth into his neck draining his life and his blood.

I retreat back into the trees, to my chagrin the girl has run off, perhaps I should have explained. But she will be easy to find later, and perhaps she will be safer in the mean time. Whilst I have been messing around, the leader of the small group has organised his personnel. Using flaming arrows they have started small fires around the clearing, and arranged themselves in groups of three, standing back to back and waiting for the inevitable assault. I spot two figures tied to a tree in the centre of the clearing, they must be the girl's parents. They seem to be taunting the others, telling them they could help. The dynamic is somewhat strange, but I don't have time to ponder what it means.

I pull up the hood of my cloak, and allow it to billow out around me as I leap out into the space. Floating across the clearing and dropping straight into the centre of a group of three. They don't react anywhere near fast enough and I grab two heads slamming them together as my foot lashes out into the neck of the third. Sadly I'm not as powerful as I might wish and I merely bruise them. I spin and my cloak whips around me as the others begin to track me, and as the first arrow flies in I disappear completely, leaving merely the wisp of a shadow behind, my perfect defense transporting me into one of the tents.

I wait and watch the reactions of the various people as the minutes roll by. They bring the body of the dead man and the recently revived woman back into the camp from the woods outside and form a perimeter guard. I wait patiently, knowing that they won't be able to remain vigilant for very long. Two of the unfortunates head towards the tent I've crouched in and I realise that there is really not enough space to hide properly in the tent that is barely larger than a double bed.

I wrap essemce around me, suffusing it into my cloak and rolling into the corner of the tent to look like another discarded rag. The two men enter the tent and they don't notice me, they talk or a while and settle down to sleep. The voices in my head, scream in thei strange whispered way, demanding death, demanding a feast of blood and essence. I hate them and I hate myself, I know that the only way out of here is to give into them. The only way I can keep the promise to the little girl is more violence and more slaughter. It doesn't matter that she ran, or that she thinks I'm a monster. She's right, but that doesn't change anything.

I wait until I think the two men are asleep, and raise my hand slowly, slowly above my head. The whispers are frenzied, cajoling, pleading, demanding and whilst I know that there is no other way out of this camp for me I hate myself, for being what they want. For being the cold blooded killer that they desire. My hand reaches the correct position, and I bring it swiftly down on the neck of the first man, crushing his windpipe so he can't cry out, I hoped it would knock him out instantly but he remains conscious gurgling. Each movement I make now must be completely controlled, adjusted to look exactly like the normal stirrings of sleep. So I roll, casually almost lazily over the first man, who is half paralyzed with fear and shock. I cover the mouth of the second man in the tent and bite deeply into his neck. I pin him down in case he reacts, but he moves from sleep to death with barely a moment of consciousness in between. As the second man dies, the first is beginning to pull himself together enough to deal with me, but a swift jab to his temple and he's no longer a problem. The tent returns to stillness and silence after the suppressed flurry of action.

I return to watching and waiting. Trying to think of my next move. I haven't been waiting long when the next opportunity for action presents itself. The leader is making the rounds of the tents, beginning to organise his troops once more, he's smart enough to know that I won't have gone anywhere. As he bends to stick his head into the tent I've occupied my hand snakes out, clutching for the scruff of his neck to pull him inside the tent. I hoped to catch him by surprise, and though he notices me too early, it's not enough to save his life as I drag him into the tent, locking him into a hold and biting once more. I pursue a different tactic this time, subtlety has to go and I make as much of a show as I can, throwing myself and my prey around the tent, snarling and growling to give the impression of an animal as much as possible. One of my hands slides up to the back of the leaders head, tugging backwards to open his throat and let him scream as loud as possible.

The rest of the camp rushes to the tent, gathering around it in uncertainty, hesitating on what to do next. "Burn it! Burn it out!" the increasingly desperate leader screams, feeling his own life hanging in the balance. His words go unheeded by his followers, but his own torch waves from side to side and the tent begins to burn. We continue to bounce around the increasingly claustrophobic tent, locked in our deathly embrace. I use his body as a shield from the worst of the flames, and though the heat is certainly uncomfortable I don't suffer any real burns. As the conflagration grows I know I need to make my next move. I shove the body of the captain into the worst of the flames and reach for the edge of the tent. My hand wants to withdraw from the heat, but I clench my fist on the canvas and pull as hard as I can, ripping the tent open and flinging it backwards. I tilt my head, allowing the moonlight to glisten from my blood stained fangs, and shout "Who wants to die next?" to the moonlit sky.

About half the remaining mercenaries flee, but the woman who is second in command rallies enough for them to attempt to still fight me. I hope a convincing enough display will force them to reconsider, and as six of them rush at me I adopt the first defensive stand I ever learned. One foot in front of the other, hands up in front of my chest, make my body into a line. I dance through the attacks, they aren't well drilled enough to synchronise their attacks properly, and there is a little reluctance in each of them to be the one that suffers the monsters' wrath first. As each rush comes I use the minimum movement possible, the slightest shift in weight, leaning marginally and giving the merest push to angle the momentum of the attacker away from me. But I'm not fast enough, and the final attack hits, landing me a painful, but mostly superficial blow to my lower back. "Insolence!" the apoplexy of the voices is almost deafing, "Punishment!". I spin, allowing my genuine rage to twist my face. "Fine!" I say, "You'll be first." I grab the offender's throat and arm, and activating Spider Pounce Technique once more jump out of the clearing, into the tree cover, holding my newest victim. It takes a matter of seconds to drain his life and I am about to go back into the clearing when the woman's voice rings out.

"If you came for these monster you'll not get them. One more attack and they die."

Through the trees I see her and one of the others standing by the central tree, swords pressed to the throats of the man and woman still tied there. I walk back into the clearing slowly, unthreateningly, though my caste mark is just beginning to blotch into existence on my forehead. My hands are spread wide, hands up to show I carry no weapons, my face back to the serene mask it usually appears as. As I come back into the clearing, the swords tighten slightly against the necks of the captive, with a trickle of blood appearing on the neck of the man.

"No one else has to die. I desire no more death. If you walk away now you can go free, but any harm comes to them and no one leaves here alive. You've seen what I can do, I suggest you listen to my warning. It will be your last."

"I'm here because I found a small girl crying in the road. I promised I would help her find her parents. I assumed these were bandits holding you hostage, but you are going to tell me exactly why they were hunting you right now." My face is impassive, without mirth, without anger, simply resigned to the awfulness of the night. "Otherwise I leave you tied up, waiting for this woman to wake up and find a sword in her hand."

My eyes narrow and I watch the man's face intently, the slightest tremble, beads of sweat will indicate a falsehood. I try to remember, do the eyes flick up and left for memory up and right for imagination or is it the other way round?

[Readying use of Perception + Investigation pool to see if I can tell whether he's lying.]

I stumble backwards, dropping the woman's body, shocked as his words bring home the truth of what I've done to me. I didn't want it to happen this way, I didn't want there to be any death, but I am what I am, as he says a creature with a talent for destruction. I just wanted to help a little girl, I surely there's still some good there. She was lost and alone, with no one. These might be bandits, they might be guards, but they belong. Their kids will be looked after by someone.

I dry retch with self-disgust knowing the flimsiness of my excuses, knowing the despair of my utmost failure to control my inner sadistic killer. I try to wipe away some of the blood, as if that will wipe away my sins, but the laughter of my whispers echoes in my head, and I remain sick at knowing I've pleased my former masters.

I try to pull myself together, not knowing what to do next. I turn to face the man once again, my surety having evapourated, my demeanour of confidence shattered. I manage to choke out a few words above the bile rising in my throat, blinking away the start of tears in order to watch this man more carefully still. "What... What are you?" I ask.

I simply stand in stunned silence briefly, emotions swirling behind my eyes. I step forward raising my fist to strike him, but think better of it and pause. I need more information first. I let my fist drop slowly, but the threat is still there.

"To whom?"

[Is there any kind of roll I could get at this point to see through a disguise or similar? I presumably know the Bishop's other deathknights. I might well not depending on the nature of the situation.]

I fight back tears. "No! No... No." I scream and splutter. "I don't. Not any more." I lash out in anger striking the man fiercely across the cheek, once twice, echoing my denials, hoping to make it true by repeating it. My assault would continue, but I tear myself away. I must learn to control the beast within. Giving into it is exactly what this man wants, exactly what gives him power over me.

I whirl round and taking in the scene I feel again the deep sadness and disappointment welling up from the buried place within me. The disgust and shame of what I am. I hate everything I've done here. I really wanted to do something good, but I failed miserably. Maybe there's still a way for something good to happen here. The whole place is a shitstorm, but perhaps I can still make a gesture.

I walk over to the woman and pick up her sword from where it lies. I look down at her, fortifying my resolve, and hopefully looking like I'm about to strike her with it. Instead I spin and plunge it into the leg of the tied up man. It's a clumsy blow, as I'm not great with swords. But my aim is not to kill, just to try and slow him down and perhaps give him something to remember me by.

I grab some of the extra discarded rope lying a little way from where the capitves have been tied up. I lift the body of the woman on to my back. And set off at a brisk pace out of the camp, heading in the direction of the little girls tracks. She's got a couple of hours head start on me, and she won't be carrying anything, but she's young enough that it won't be difficult for me to catch her I suppose. I make sure I've got the tracks again (spending a willpower) and head off after her.

I've been going an hour when I put the next step of yet another ill-conceived plan into motion. I tie up the woman with the ropes, and take some water from my supplies and splash her face with it.

[Hope this isn't assuming too much. Let me know if you want me to delete later sections or edit something.]

Cursing under my breath I go back to him and attempt to staunch the bleeding, it was meant to be a wound, not a fatal wound. My medicinal skills are somewhat lacking so I'm careful about it, and I take as many precautions as I can. I apply a tourniquet first, to slow down the flow, then I wash the wound with a little water, and ripping the man's own clothes bandage the leg up, possibly even more than is strictly necessary. I don't make eye contact the whole time I'm doing this, and when I've satisified myself that I can do no more, I lift the woman once more and continue on my original path. He may still die, in fact if he really is a servant of the Bishop that's what he'll want. But hopefully for once, I've salved my own twisted consience.

...

I don't react to the water, I just calmly let it drip off my face. I speak slowly and carefully, trying not to let my emotions show.

"You hate me. You should. I'm a monster." I sigh. "If I wanted you dead, you would be. I wasn't lying about the little girl. She's out here somewhere. She needs a parent. It can't be me, because... Well. You're a good person, you showed that much. I hope...."

I tail off, not quite sure what to say. I'm finding this whole situation confusing. Apparently it's only when I'm killing someone that I know what to do. Maybe she will.

"So do I need to knock you out and carry you again? Or will you walk? We need to catch up with her soon, I'm worried she's going to wander into a shadowland."

"Thank you." I don't expect her to respond, and I turn and begin walking. A little slower now, I don't know how fast the woman will be able to walk. But it's not too difficult to estimate a person's speed by distance between footprints and depth of indentation, so we should still be catching up with the girl.

I glance at the woman frequently, just to make sure I'm staying alert. And I keep my ears pricked up for anything in the vicinity. I'm also still giving a decent amount of my attention to the tracks. Especially if they might yield any clue to how far behind we are.

The whispers in my head roar with laughter.

"Oh hell." I mutter "Why?"

Leaping into action I jump out of the undergrowth, landing across the woman. Staring into the horrific face of the child I raise my hands into a combat stance.

"What are you?" I spit into the mutilated face.

I stare into the distance for a while, barely moving. Flies are already beginning to gather on the body when I finally move again. I simply sit, cross my legs and weep.

"I'm sorry. I meant..."

"I didn't..."

"This wasn't..."

"I just..."

My words are slow and uncertain, broken by slight sobs, and weakened by the feeling of utter sickness in the pit of my abdomen. My last word is quiet, folorn, cold and broken.

"Sorry"

An hour has already passed, perhaps longer. I sit there the rest of the day. Somewhere between sleep, meditation and catatonia. As the last rays of the wasted day disappear, the day of reverie and mourning, I move again. I stand orienting myself by the vestiges of the sunset and stepping out of the shadowland, into the underworld and continue towards the Black Chase and Sijan.

[Woo! Assume I will regain willpower and essence by Sijan. I'd like to teach myself the next charm in Dark Messiah style on the way please.]