THE ANACHRONOMINION
PART 1
[divide these parts into chapters as well, later; that being said this is probably] Chapter 1
Moone shivered, and swatted away a fly. Knowing this weather, it probably wasn't really a bug- why would any of those be out?- but a fairy. Yes, Moone decided, putting down his binoculars and surveying the snow-blasted forest around his scout's perch. In the dim predawn glow he could see signs that fairies would live nearby [the way that branches bend? moss on trees? ring of stones or mushrooms?] Probably a witching well. Sure enough, it was [prime fairy ground.] MacBeth, his [name of role here], would be extending out a psychic bubble protecting Moone from most supernatural creatures, but once inside the bubble, there would be no real difference [and things would still be able to sense his presence.]
MacBeth, great going, making sure that a fairy mound was inside our defences, Moone sent out sarcastically, using MacBeth's psychic wavelength. Moone could feel MacBeth stirring from his concentration on the other end of the connection.
What? My [magic sensors] indicated no such--
It's just a little one, relax, Moone smirked, examining the tiny broken waif body in the muddy snow to his side. Hardly more than a brownie ring. In fact, I think I just killed one of them without the use of magic powers.
Ouch. Well, it is a supernatural area, MacBeth sent back, along with the intent of a shrug. If there was a slight blip of magical radiation, you can forgive me for confusing it with background noise. I know how paranoid you get.
I forgive you, [Mac], sent Moone, Out. He raised his binoculars back up to his eyes. He could see the compound stretch out before him. Guards were posted at each gate, and a cold-iron chain link fence ran the perimeter, trimmed along top with loops of barbed wire, like the sable fur that trims the robes of Father Christmas.
From this height, in the craggy hills above the compound, Moone could just make out that the compound would be in the shape of a giant eldritch glyph from the air, but he was still too low to tell which magic system the glyph would be from, much less recognize the particular glyph. Probably Kabbalah. The compound was invisible to satellites, but being seen from above wouldn't be the primary purpose of having the buildings be shaped like that.
Turning the binoculars' gaze downward from the compound, Moone could see a tiny figure bobbing through the snow, skimming along top of it toward the exterior gates. He tracked this figure's progress for a moment, then shifted focus back up to the gates themselves, where two guards were standing erect, one at either side of the chain-link gate [overuse word.] One of the guards' eyes drifted over, noticing the figure, but dwelling on it only briefly.
Moone grinned, his wind-chapped lips cracking slightly in the cold. Why would the guard think anything of it? Martens and sables were common in this part of the world, especially in the woods. The sable-like figure drew closer to the guards, until it stood right in front of them. The first guard gestured at it to the second, who leaned down his hands on his knees in a hey-little-fellow gesture [o.w.]. The sable figure regarded the second guard, cautiously approaching until they were nose-to-nose. And in a flash that was almost too fast too see, it dropped both guards, the second crumpled and riding the first one's head on his way down.
Nice one, Gef, Moone sent over the psychic link to the sable-like figure, who was actually a mongoose and thus more closely related to cats than weasels THOUGHT YOU MIGHT LIKE TO KNOW. He watched as the mongoose shimmied into the snow, under the gate, and darted out into the night deeper into the compound. Phase alpha complete; beta team go on my mark. He surveyed the attention of the remaining guards with a quick sweep of his binoculars; seeing nothing, and no guards being alarmed at their fallen comrades, he gave the signal. Go.
Roger, came a female voice over the link; a second, human figure emerged from the woods below and stalked its way to the gate. Through the glyph-enhanced binoculars, Moone could see a dim crimson flash of light shoot out of the figure's hand; this shimmied up into the lock like a worm made out of red electricity, and the lock fell open. The gate popped open, folding inwards through the snow. A glance to the left and to the right, and a burst of yellow springlike energy, and the figure-- Mushroom Cloud, the team's sorceress-- popped around the corner of a dark gray building, disappearing out of sight.
Moone surveyed down the alley of the complex once more, sweeping once again for guards making their rounds, and, seeing none, closed his eyes and focused on his teammate's energies over MacBeth's psychic network. There was Cloud now; he could feel what was going on around her like sonar on a submarine or whiskers on a cat.
[stuff goes on; some close call or another happens with Cloud]
You only get one extra life, MacBeth reminded over the psychic channel.
And I'd prefer if we didn't need to use it, added Moone. Extraction is going to be a whole lot tougher if the person sent to extract the package is dead.
Also, those things are balls expensive, Gef sent. We'd hate to have you go all belly-up and waste something so valuable.
Cloud had a phylactery, or soul jar, brought about by [describe something difficult and laborious to achieve, very magically expensive]- this was a dangerous mission, and, of the two beings on the forward team, Cloud was the mortal one. The phylactery was back with MacBeth, where it would be safe, and where Cloud would [regrow? how do soul jars work?] if anything were to happen to her.
[something in here maybe?]
[Gef says something else.] Moone could feel the mongoose's position over the psychic connection, on two legs, pressed up against a wall and checking around the corner. He would be right outside of the asset's quarters right now, and Cloud would be reaching him coming from the other way down the hall at any minute. [speaks, mentions something magic]
If that's even a real thing, a second female voice came over the link, gruffer than the first. Lovecraft, who was covering Gef. Like Moone, the supernatural world was something that Lovecraft had had thrust upon her, rather than being born into it. Moone wasn't aware of the exact specifics of Lovecraft's magical awakening, but nonetheless felt something of a kinship toward her, sharing much of her awe-- and her skepticism.
Moone's team consisted of three people, and one sapient mongoose spirit who vacillated on whether to be called a person or not. Gef, said spook, was running point; [MacBeth, Mushroom Cloud, Lovecraft here.] Moone called the shots. It was a high-risk mission, but his team was in fine form today, relaxed, in control, thinking clearly.
What was that? sent MacBeth.
[MacBeth is made, and he tries to withdraw to secondary position. Moone can here scuffle over psychic link, the link occasionally browning out. With this, Moone can feel, like the rising of hairs on the back of his neck, MacBeth's bubble of magical protection also waning. Moone watches through psychic link vision as action goes on. Meanwhile, switching to watching Cloud and Gef, things get tense over there too.
[In the scuffle with MacBeth and the guard, the Phylactery breaks, still functional (due to how the magic works with those, establish that earlier) but the backup life leaks out (describe phylactery as being something like a heart from the Legend of Zelda, make obvious video game analogy, but establish that such backup lives are rare and valuable.)]
Really? sent Cloud over the now static-filled connection. Really? This is- this is the most dangerous part of the mission; NOW the phylactery decides to break?
[Really tense moment as oh crap, I really can die in here. Moone can hear, over Cloud's psychic line, Gef squeak out to stay back. Something really dangerous happens.
[But they get out safely. Probably using some character trait that we establish here and winds up being important later on. Gef takes care of it.
Alright, that's good, sent MacBeth, psychic voice strained with concentration. That's very good. I think I've figured out a way to take this guy out- but I'm going to need my [psychic whosie-whatsit] to do it. Y'all fine on your own for now?
MacBeth needed to lower his defensive bubble for a moment, in order to fend off his attacker. With that bubble came not only the connection between team members, but the natural psychic shield from psychic danger or telepathic powers outside of the bubble.
Moone sucked a sharp breath in between his teeth. And gave the order.
Moone felt it once again, like the brownout waves from before, but full-force this time. Being outside of a psychic network was a feeling he was used to, of course, a feeling he'd felt almost for his whole life, but the shock of the shield dropping, after being shielded for so long, was [strong]; it left him feeling naked and vulnerable. The connections to his teammates also were cut off, like the riverbed between two bodies of water suddenly and inexplicably going dry. Every member would be taking cover and hunkering down, unaware of what's going on, perhaps a few of them in potential imminent danger. They depended so much on him. But there was nothing he could do now. Nothing but wait.
Moone shifted and curled up onto his hands and knees from his position in the natural [crook] between two [coniferous] trees, and crawled around to swing his binoculars in the direction behind him where MacBeth had hunkered down. That location had been supposed to be more secure, further away from the complex; however MacBeth had been discovered, it couldn't have been through magical means. He raised his sight up to the tops of the trees, twisting a dial that the pair of binoculars had on one side, setting the binocs to highlight usage of electricity. Sure enough, there were cameras hidden up in the canopy; technology instead of magic, but probably shrunk to unusual small size through magical means. Stupid, Moone thought to himself; MacBeth only scouted the area for magical defences, and we grew so proud thinking ourselves secure that he didn't even bother to hide.
Of course, hiding would only tip them off to the current position; the cameras would have also recorded them arriving. If they knew MacBeth was here, they'd know the rest of the team was here as well.
[With the bubble is down, Moone exposed to the magical elements, (spy left out in the cold!), he is attacked by the fearsome demon Kissifer. Six, seven feet tall, black as tar, rippling wiry muscles and a bulbous head. Describe his mouth as well, something weird like needles for teeth or a second mouth as a tongue or crustacean-like jaws. Or all three. A demon so terrifying that he has children's programming named after him.]
It was the nature of magic that sacrifices be made to gain power. Cloud's phylactery, staving off death for a kill, required [thing that phylacteries require]; power needed power as a catalyst. Usually it could be drawn from any number of higher plains freely, as the magic then used would go on to serve the express purposes of those plains. The more powerful the magic required, though, and the more labor required to serve the sources of the magic's power, which didn't always get along.
But with people, it was different. Entities exist as themselves, and in themselves. The magic could only balance itself out so that a person blessed was a person cursed at the same time. Long ago, Moone had been blessed with a powerful boon, and the bane that came with it was this: that his blood, body, and soul were especially alluring to those who wished to do harm to them. Unprotected by boons such as MacBeth's psychic aura, Moone was jumped regularly by supernatural creatures. Several times a week, in fact.
It was very rare to be attacked by something quite as powerful as Kissifer, however.
The demon attempted immediate possession of Moone.
[Moone realizes how to defeat Kissifer, and makes his way to where MacBeth would be fighting guard.]
Bringing the fight to another fight wasn't the smartest option, but it was the only one Moone had at the moment. There'd be an ally there as well, of course. That and one other thing.
[They fight their way over to MacBeth. Also, I should learn how to actually write fight scenes instead of glossing them over.]
When Moone got to them, crashing through the forest and toppling over trees, MacBeth and the guard were standing there dumbly, facing each other but no longer fighting, too busy watching Moone fight. Moone kicked the demon off of him, and shot MacBeth an astonished "what are you doing, finish him" shrug in the split second it took for Kissifer to get back up. MacBeth stood dumbly for one second, a dark expression passing over his face, before seeming to realize the ridiculousness of what he was doing. A second later, it was all over; there was a bright yellow light, visible even in the bright yellow rays of early dawn, as MacBeth ripped the aura out of the guard's body, and the guard's remains slumped to the ground.
Kissifer had his layered mouth around Moone's head, and began biting down, the teeth slicing through spirit instead of flesh.
"Jar, quick!" Moone shouted at MacBeth. Wasting no time, MacBeth slid the soul jar out from the pouch at his belt, and tossed it the three yards through the air into Moone's outstretched left hand. In the same deft motion with which he caught the soul jar, Moone pressed it against the tarlike body of the demon.
He felt the pressure disappear from off of the top of his head. Kissifer crumbled, like pages of a book that had been set fire, and seemed to disappear into smoke, which got sucked into the jar. The phylactery was an unoccupied body, a surface that attracts demons like static cling attracts balloons [or whatever.] Long ago, Moone had been given a bane, with an equally powerful boon, both balancing each other out.
The bane was that he would be attacked by supernatural creatures.
But the boon was that he would always have the means to overcome them.
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