Sunday, November 24, 2013

The Marvellous Adventures of Mevolent Dimension Trip Castalan

Herrow. I read Zaf's chapter, and came up with an idea for this. Um, yeah. That's all. Toodle pip!

The world was locked in bloody struggle, resistance forces all over the world waged their own personal wars against Mevolent, isolated from each other, most unaware that they weren't’t the only ones. Those that weren't in a resistance were in a daily fight to prove it, and everyone lived in fear of the person next to them. Everyone was an informant. Terror ruled the streets, strength ruled the sewers, mages, ruled the world.

  But Trip Castalan didn’t care much for all that. You see, he was a professional thief, and any thief that wanted to last in this cutthroat world could not afford to care for what side they were on, or who was paying them to steal this three megaton nuclear device right from a vampire’s office. How many people would die from the inevitable usage of this weapon was unimportant, Trip had killed at least three times as many people with his knife in his third pocket on the right side of his coat. Good old Bill the knife. Man, runes were cool. Or were they sigils? He didn’t much care.

  And this Mevolent guy, everyone said it was awful that he was in power, that he was going to bring the faceless ones back and everyone would be dead. Trip laughed at this notion. Throughout history, people had been using religion as an excuse to do inexcusable things, invade countries, commit genocide, Mevolent was doing the same. Mevolent ruled the world, and Trip knew for a fact, that he did not spend one hour a week searching for a way to return the faceless ones to their home. He claimed the side of the faceless ones, and claimed all their followers, he then used those followers to control the world, and stay in power. Mevolent had found he liked the power, and realised that if his gods returned, he would lose it all. No to mention die. He liked being a god. Mevolent wasn’t a nice bloke, but who was any more? Mevolent kept things the same, because if everything was the same, then nothing could affect his total domination. Trip liked things staying the same too, it made them easier to steal from.

  Where was he? Oh yes, stealing a nuclear device. He slid through the wall, right behind a guard. For a brief second he rematerialised, and snapped the man’s neck, then slid into the vampire’s office. To his dismay, the vampire had clearly forgotten about the very convincing letter he had been sent, being invited to a tea party with ol’ king Mevvy. Blast. The vampire looked up, but as he opened his mouth, Trip spoke. “Can we not have this  conversation? We both know how it’ll go. Who are you? The mail order bride you ordered. Then you’ll draw a weapon, tell me to say goodbye to life or my behind or something equally cliche, and I’ll make some remark like ‘But we only just met, how do you know if I do not fit the description in the ad yet?’ and then you snarl and attack, we fight,  I win, and steal your nuke. So can we just get to the fight part already? I’m bored of this conversation.”
“Nuke? This is a logistics firm.”
“We don’t have any nukes! Well, three, on the way to former Russia, but they’re in a warehouse downtown!”
“Wait, are you a vampire?” Asked Trip, a slow realisation dawning on him.
“Ah. Sorry, could I just get the address of this building?”
“34 Glorious No-Face road.”
“Oh. I wanted 35 Glorious No-Face road. Sorry about that. And, er, I may have killed a few of your employees after mistaking them as guards. I thought they were a little sluggish for vampires. And I was wondering why they were all wearing suits. Oops.”

  An hour later Trip was frantically running out of the building holding a rather large bomb in his arms, a pack of vampires hot on his tail.

Another hour later he was sitting in his little hideaway in the sewers of London, counting his reward. Three bottle caps, four particularly pretty rocks, and a cool cloak that went invisible for a few minutes at a time. Overall, not a bad day’s work.

Friday, November 22, 2013

Zafira Kerias: Life In Another World

Takes place in the dimension Mevolent is ruler. I will let the rest show itself

The tortured cries of prisoners was creeping into the room. The Sense-Wardens who had been interrogating Zafira were now guarding her in case she tried to escape. She was on her knees bloody and beaten. It had taken years to find her, and Mevolent would be thrilled. She had been on the run in America until Mevolent's forces destroyed a lot of her country and she fled. Baron Vengeous had found her the day China Sorrows had died, as did he but it was Serpine who brought her in. It took a lot out of everyone to take the Grand Mage in as she knew her true name and was hard to beat. 

The seconds past by. Zafira could barely stay in a kneeling position but the Redhood beside her would kick her until she knelt, or a Sense-Warden would send spikes of pain in her mind. She heard footsteps and she felt a hand, gloved, on her shoulder, 
"If you look the master in the eye, I will assure you are punished severely. You have no right to look upon his face." Serpine's voice was in her ear. He didn't wait for an answer. She was forced to her feet and brought to what was the throne room. She knew who was there. Mevolent. In simple robes and that veil covering his face. The god-killer sword was in a case too. She was forced into a kneeling position. Figuring it wise, Zafira kept her gaze to Mevolent's hands. This was the man who had nearly killed her so many times in battle. She knew he was a skilled fighter. And she loathed him. Serpine had told Mevolent something because he spoke as soon as she was looking at him.
"The Sense-Wardens say you have a skill that no other mage of our time has, Zafira." Mevolent said keeping his tone calm. 
"What would that be? I know many things you can only dream of." She replied coldly. Nobody moved. 
"I believe you to know exactly what I meant. You are intelligent I do not deny that. So let us not play games." 
Zafira shook her head, "I can revive the dead. So? It wouldn't matter to you if you want me dead. 
"I do not wish you dead, yet. You have a talent I find useful. I'm offering you a chance at freedom. You have been imprisoned for a decade. You know exactly what will happen to you everyday. I do not offer freedom to just anyone. You have a chance to show yourself worthy of the Dark Gods, I speak for them. Serpine and many others who fought you say you are incredibly talented, I could use people like you." Zafira stayed quiet. She did not believe in the Faceless Ones, yet every instinct told her to admit defeat and join him. She knew what was America is now his. She also knew she'd die painfully if she refused. Zafira spoke, her voice steady, 
"I will join you." She said. Mevolent must gave been pleased but he didn't show it in his voice,
"Nefarian, take her to Nye. The Sense-Wardens say she speaks truthfully." Serpine nodded and motioned for Zafira to stand, she tried to and once up she followed. They entered a room and Nye was there.

A few months had gone by. Zafira had been much more recovered. Nye had warned Mevolent that she was still weak from her years in the dungeons. She lived in the City. Though Zafira was not permitted to leave unless patrolling with a general. She was a fighter for Mevolent. She knew she was not trusted and that was fine. One of the generals would take her when patrolling the streets, only because Mevolent was testing her loyalty. Many Resistance members were found by her. She proved herself daily. In a world where mortals were slaves, it was strange. 

Zafira stood with a now living Baron Vengeous. He kept her in his sight at all times. They were waiting for the morning patrol to come back. The time came and there was commotion, a person was brought in. Serephia Jackson. An assassin who was working under Zafira until Mevolent took over. A close friend. Serephia saw Zafira and broke free of her guards and Zafira found herself pinned to a wall, Serephia strangling her.
"TRAITOR!" She screeched. Freaked Zafira drew her dagger and cut Serephia. 
"" Zafira gasped struggling to get away. Serephia's grip loosened. Zafira stood up again and went back to where she was. The Redhoods had Serephia and led her to the dungeons. The Baron's gaze was on Zafira. 
"I knew her when I was an Elder in America. She was one of my assassins." Zafira explained.  The Baron nodded and led them out into the City. Who else thought her a traitor? She was loyal to someone now, years ago Mevolent was an enemy, but now? Now he was her master. 

Monday, November 18, 2013

An Explanation of Zaf

So I realize Zaf's love life totally is weird. So here's a basic explanation.

30+ years ago Zaf was married to Ravel and they split since she cheated on him with Crux, now we have Javier who she finds and then you all know he goes insane. Well long story short Javier and Zaf are together as he's cured and all but a few weeks ago Javier killed someone, Zaf's aunt. He's also hired to kill Zaf and so she starts working with Ravel and that old love they had rekindled and they're very happy, Javier is around but Zaf is terrified to go anywhere near him. 

Sunday, November 17, 2013

A Kind Of Brief Summary Of Channelling

Channelling is a very hard to understand dIscipline, partly because those who use it hardly know how it works themselves. It was dead for thousands of years, until rediscovered by Trip Castalan. No channeller is simply a user of the discipline, but a researcher of it as well. There are generally agreed upon theories on how it works, but these are open to be disproved.

  The soul is linked to the body. It exists on a different dimensional plane to ours, and is essentially our presence in that realm. It is an undetectable organ, necessary for conscious thought, personality, and brain function. It exists in all animals, but not plants. It seems, that to be a channeller one must first break their links to their souls. After this, you can control the soul almost like a muscle. The issue is, learning to control this muscle is notoriously difficult to control. One may wish to fire a laser, and hold out their arm, but they will instead find a column of energy fly from their arm. It takes decades to gain a basic control over your soul.

  But There are many dangers to channelling. The energy that is created transferring the soul from the soul plane to the physical plane is so great, that if too much is transferred at one point it can cause damage to the soul, or potentially the body. Many a novice channeller has destroyed their hand, arm, or entire body through being too ambitious. A high power continuous energy beam as favoured by Trip Castalan will cause your arm to rupture, and then explode in about a millisecond. However, over time, your cells will build up a resistance to such high energy, and also become more resistant to damage as well.There are legends from the long past of a channeller who would charge into battle naked, as nothing could pierce her skin. But, channelling is not limited to our plane, but can also take place on the soul plane as well. It can take damage, but never be destroyed. But, as well as other small potential issues, there is one major danger of channelling; as the soul is no longer locked into the body, you can completely release the entire thing from your body. As it is vital to live, to get rid of it all means instant death.

  As you can do so much with channelling, it is split into skill trees. A skill tree is very similar to a skill tree in a video game. At a point in a channeller’s training they will have to pick a skill tree to keep developing their skill as a channeller. Once this skill tree is picked there is no way to simply drop it, it is a specialisation that is chosen for life. You can pick others afterwards, but they will never be as powerful as your first skill tree. There are too many to list and they are too varied to describe individually, but my message here is that, despite there being about 30 skill trees, these hardly scratch the surface of what the ancient channellers achieved.

  Channeller crystal is what all channellers have a weapon made out of. Each channeller’s weapon is different, ranging from swords to one guy experimenting with making a car out of the stuff. They have these for two reasons. The first, it conducts and traps soul energy very well, and when it does, it has an extraordinary ability to break things, and two, the weapon acts almost like an anchor for your soul in this realm, a safe harbour, if you will. It becomes a part of your soul, and that is why it is important that you forge it, and it must be your kind of weapon, because it will have to become a part of you.

  There is one final thing I wish to discuss, and that is the peculiar side effect of channelling of an enhanced tactical mind. The common consensus is that when you devote your soul, which is your very being, to war, your very being naturally becomes better and better at it. And a little obsessed with it.

Any enquiries, please write them below. Down there. In the comments.