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LordoftheNight
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PostPosted: Fri Mar 03, 2006 9:37 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

and you yet live? impressive
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PostPosted: Sat Mar 18, 2006 9:18 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

I'll take a few days to poll since there's almost no way I'll be able to start the new chapter in the next week. (stupid FCCLA! Argh)
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Sans Dieu Rien Without God, Nothing

Visions of Shadow - 2nd part of Uncertain Quests! Chapter Two

Dreamwalker - Relocated to Linear Lane Sixth Chapter

Linear Story Nightrobber Now Complete!
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PostPosted: Sun Mar 19, 2006 6:45 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I might have missed the chapter but at least I got here in time the poll Very Happy
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PostPosted: Sun Mar 19, 2006 3:19 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Voted, and winning.
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 30, 2006 8:28 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

12:50 – Second Flight

“What!?” exclaimed Nate.

For once, Buck said nothing. He merely regarded her with intent eyes and waited for her to continue.

Kelsey swallowed hard, then said, “When we were on our way here, I had a bad feeling about coming. I ignored it, I – I figured it was just tiredness.” With a tiny laugh, she said, “I guess I was wrong.”

Her brother, however, regarded her thoughtfully. “I don’t know,” he said. “If we hadn’t come here, we wouldn’t have found the book.” I hadn’t thought of that, Kelsey thought. Meanwhile Nate continued, “Well, whatever happened, we don’t want to stick around now.”

Nodding, Kelsey agreed, “You’re right. We have to get out of here. I don’t want to be close when d’Homme arrives. Ok, Buck – maybe you should, I don’t know, start testing the wights. See if they try to avoid attacks if you lob a grenade at them. We need to get to the truck.” Buck nodded and went. She turned to her brother. “Nate, I think you and I had better start looking through this book. We need to see if there’s anything that can help us, in case…” She didn’t finish the thought.

“Maybe you shouldn’t look,” Nate suggested. “I read faster than you anyway, and maybe you can try to keep track of where d’Homme is or something, let us know how much time we have.” After a moment’s thought, Kelsey nodded. She probably couldn’t concentrate on a book right now anyway.

So while Nate began sifting through the pages of the book Kelsey sank into a chair and closed her eyes. Tentatively she tried to sense something, some remnant of premonition from before. She could not; instead she felt a tickling in her mind, pushing her thoughts northward, to the cemetery. Probing towards it, Kelsey felt a sickening in her stomach, and she knew who it was she sensed. Closer she felt, to find out his exact location, to see how much time they had. But as soon as she got close enough to see him, he felt her too.

“Well, hello there, little witch,” spoke the voice of Mort d’Homme in her head. It was like a physical blow to the girl, leaving her completely winded. Fear gripped her.

His maniacal laugh echoed in her brain. “I see you’re speechless, little witch. Good. It makes you even easier to deal with.” He laughed again. “Come, little witch, have you nothing to say to me?”

“Why do you call me that?” asked Kelsey, her teeth chattering. From where he sat Nate looked up, wondering to whom she spoke, but seeing her face he was immediately afraid. He had an idea of what was going on.

“What, little witch?” said d’Homme. “It amuses me. The other one hated it when I called her witch, and it gave me great pleasure to do so then, as it does now.” The other one? The old woman, Kelsey guessed. Now a feeling of condescending scorn came from him, as d’Homme tsk tsked at her. “Though I’ve never seen a mystic pay so little attention to her premonitions. You should have known better that to come the way you did.”

Confused, Kelsey didn’t say anything. But the warlock felt her uncertainty anyway. “Must I explain everything to you?” he asked with irritation. “If you had not come through the streets by the main way, in your idiotic vehicle, my watchers may not have even noticed your coming. Had you paid attention to the premonition you would have known that. Idiot girl. Don’t you know? You and the one before you are mystics, diviners of the future, and wielders of some small amount of power. That’s why the old bitch hated for me to name her as I did.” He chuckled scornfully. “She should have been flattered. Witches have more strength than she ever did – they were willing to pay the price for their power. She was too afraid, and stuck to her paltry ‘gift’.” He sneered the word, as if it were a curse.

Kelsey still had almost no idea what he was talking about. Perhaps over a hundred years of…absence…had addled his brain? After all, he had been insane already. Maybe she just felt too scared and sick to comprehend. All she knew was that d’Homme was coming, and what could she do to stop him? Nothing. Still, she felt a certain kinship to the old woman who had been before her, and some defiance welled up inside. “If she was so weak, how did she manage to get rid of you?” she asked, trying to sound as scornful as he had.

Once again he laughed, but now she heard anger in his voice, not amusement. “I’m still here, aren’t I?” A wave of dizziness washed over Kelsey, and she moaned without meaning to. “Who do you think you are, little witch?” asked d’Homme quietly. “Do you think you can end me, when she could not? You may be strong, but you’ve been touched.” Once again his tone changed, and jeered at her. “Soon you’ll be mine,” he whispered. His laugh rose in a crescendo of madness, and Kelsey clutched her head, covering her ears. “You are nothing! Where will you run, little witch? I’m almost here.”

And he was. He was at the very edge of the town, and soon would be at the library. Kelsey huddled in her chair, trying to think of what to do, as the warlocks mocking laughter echoed in her mind. Then she became aware of Nate, shaking her fiercely. “Kelsey!” he cried. “I may have found something. Don’t listen to him anymore, come back!” So with an effort, she did. With a gasp she became aware of herself, her tear streaked face and throbbing head, and the sound of d’Homme’s mirth was cut off, as with the blade of a knife.

“Nate!” she gasped. After a moment, she broke out, “He’s almost here, he’s at the edge of town. We have to get out!”

Her brother blanched, but nodded. “I’ve been reading the book, and there’s a whole section about Mort d’Homme and what happened back then. It says that the witch – ”

“She wasn’t a witch,” interrupted Kelsey, feeling strangely defensive. “She was a mystic.”

Watching her oddly, Nate asked, “Did d’Homme tell you that?” When she nodded, he said, “I thought so. It says that in here too, about her being a mystic. It also says that such powers – ”

“Does it say anything about being touched?” Stealing into her heart was a feeling of franticness as she remembered the warlock’s words.

“No, I didn’t see anything. But that’s not important right now! Look – if we can get to the city hall, we’ll be alright for a while!”

Confused again, Kelsey asked, “Why the city hall?”

“It’s built right by the park, and has running water around it! The stream, remember? According to this, undead aren’t going to cross running water. Plus, remember the fire in the park, how the area around the city hall is all dead right now? That’ll slow them down too!”

As Nate dragged her from her chair to the entrance of the building, where Buck was waiting, Kelsey asked, “Why would the burnt area make a difference? And what if d’Homme isn’t undead?”

“Would you call him alive?” demanded Nate as he dragged Kelsey stumbling along. “The burnt area will slow them because the dead leech off life to keep animated. With the place being all burned up, they can’t pass it as quickly.” Patting the book, he said, “According to this, there are two things the dead really hate – water and fire.”

Finally they reached Buck. “He said he could get us to the truck,” Nate said. Turning to Buck, he said, “Do it.” For once, the hermit didn’t look to Kelsey for affirmation, and she was glad of it. She wasn’t really paying attention, was too busy trying to remember exactly what the warlock had told her, in case it could help later. Despite the fact that she’d broken the connection, she could still feel his location, and he was getting perilously close.

With a few well-lobbed grenades Buck mostly cleared the area around the truck. As wight body parts filled the air in a gruesome fountain, the hermit ran to the truck, leading with his flamethrower. Perhaps it was a good thing that Kelsey wasn’t paying particular attention – if she had she might have hesitated for a moment before diving after Buck into the throng of undead, momentarily stupefied by the grenades and the flames, which they scrambled away from. That moment may have been all it took to die.

As it was, she and her brother kept right at Buck’s heels and were able to climb unmolested into the truck through the driver’s side to their seats. The hermit followed them in and turned the ignition immediately. A few harrowing moments, splashes of gore, raging shrieks and dull thuds later, they were clear. Nate cried, “To the town hall!” and Buck stepped on it.

The town, though not huge, was nevertheless of a good size, and the city hall happened to be on the other half of it. Most of the older buildings and homes were located on the eastern side along with the hall, while newer buildings like the library and the school were to the west. The sides were separated by a creek, which was crossed in several places by bridges to link the original town with its western additions. Buck was speeding to one of these bridges when Kelsey screamed.

A fiery cold pain crashed into her head, and she writhed in her seat. Buck despite himself slowed down, and Nate cried her name. Kelsey could only look out the windshield ahead and view the source of her agony.

Gleaming in the headlights, even more wights stood in close ranks, but that’s not what drew the girl’s attention. Above them, behind them, within their lines it seemed loomed a writhing mass of darkness, swirling and twisting endlessly in the fog. The only light that could touch it was a pale unearthly green, tinged with red, which shone like hellish beacons from a pair of deadlights in the center of the mass.

“You are mine, witch,” sneered a voice – the warlock’s voice – from within the darkness. “You have been touched.” The three companions watched paralyzed as tendrils of blackness began reaching toward the truck, while the wights swayed and moaned in their places. At first it seemed they were reaching for Kelsey, but then they paused.

“But first,” hissed d’Homme, voice slick as oil and as volatile, “I’ll rend the brat asunder.” Then the altered their course – for Nate.

Through the haze of pain, the nausea, the fear, Kelsey’s anger and defiance finally burst through. Her consciousness pushed out through the veil of delirium, and in a dazzling burst of clarity she felt her power rush forth. Thrusting open the door, she stood on the running board of the truck, facing the blackness. “Get ye back!” she cried, holding out her hand. “You desecrate this town with your presence!"

Immediately the cloud of darkness that was d’Homme fell in upon itself, the tendrils withdrawing before the light blazing from Kelsey’s eyes. The wights cried out uncertainly, but the warlock didn’t leave just yet.

“Foolish girl, to defy me so,” he hissed maliciously. “Force me from the town if you will – my servants remain, as do I. You’ve no power to banish me wholly. I’ll await you by my throne.” With that, the darkness finally compressed and rushed, streaming, to the north.

Hesitantly, Nate asked, “Is he…gone? Forever?”

They had little time to ponder that question, though, for the mass of wights suddenly surged forward, crying their hatred for the living. Hurriedly Kelsey sat back down and slammed the door shut. “Drive,” she commanded, and the truck roared forward and turned onto the bridge to the east section of town, only moments before the wights converged upon the spot. Their wailing redoubled as they milled about the roadside. The bridge was wide enough that they could pass safely over the creek – but only slowly, in the very middle of it. They had a little time. As they raced through the streets piles of gore and bodies could be seen, but no moving wights. Kelsey counted them lucky for it.

At long last they arrived at the town hall. Behind it the park spread out, shifting patches of burned out grass visible only occasionally. Kelsey remembered at the time of the fire a few weeks ago how much of a blight they had considered it. Now she viewed the wide swath of burnt out ground as a boon, one of few that night.

Piles of furniture and papers stacked into three piles stood before the stairs of the city hall, burning brightly. A few abandoned cars, doors still left open, were parked outside the circle of light. Buck steered their truck between two piles and stopped right at the steps. The three jumped out of the vehicle and began grabbing their belongings. At the entrance a small group of armed townsfolk had appeared. “Kelsey, Nate! Thank God. Hurry,” they called, “come inside!”

“Are there any wights about?” Kelsey called.

They shook their heads. “Not now, but they’re sure to come soon. Come on!” The three needed no more urging, and leapt up the steps two at a time. Kelsey was able to make it all the way up and through the heavy doors on her own, running on leftover adrenaline from her confrontation with d’Homme. But as soon as the doors were closed, locked, and bolted shut, she collapsed to her knees.

Nate was by her side in an instant, Buck behind him, while the townspeople milled about worriedly. “Are you all right?” Nate demanded.

She started to nod, but a throb of pain lanced up her arm at the elbow, and she clutched it with a wince. Looking down, she realized it was bleeding. Red blood welled slowly between her fingers, but it had a brackish look to it that made her queasy.

Seeing it, a young woman who had been present at the steps rushed forward and knelt before the girl. Gently but firmly she took hold of Kelsey’s wrist and straightened her arm, and after ripping the shirtsleeve away looked at her elbow. With a furrowed brow she inspected it briefly, then without a word she looked over her shoulder at a large man standing behind her. Though not especially tall, he was strong and had the look of a leader. Apparently he had the authority of one too; when he saw the woman’s glance he began shooing the other people away, finally leaving the three companions and the woman alone.

Finally Kelsey was able to recognize the lady who now was wiping away the oozing blood to better inspect her arm. It was Gina Albaine, a widow since a year ago, who had compiled the book from the library. She made her living selling crafts and offering her historian services to people who wanted to study their family ancestries. Though they did not know each other very well, Kelsey’s family and Gina were (distantly) related.

Dimly it came to her that Gina had just asked about what had happened to them, and Nate was filling her in. It came out a little garbled and panicky, but that was only to be expected. After all he was only twelve, and he had been through hell tonight. Stood up remarkably well too, Kelsey thought. Most kids his age may not have been able to.
The more blood Gina cleared away, the clearer Kelsey’s head became, until she felt almost all right. She couldn’t stop shaking, and she still hurt in numerable places, but she was able to think again. It was as she was breathing a sigh of relief about this that the wound finally became clear. All four of them sucked in their breath when they saw it.

It was as ragged gash about three inches long, right by her elbow on her left arm. It still oozed beads of blackish and distinctly abnormal blood, and the skin right next to the wound was black and puckered. Outside of that, extending perhaps a half inch all around it, her skin was sickly white, and reminded her exactly of the wights.

“Kelsey, when did you get this wound?” Gina asked.

“I- I dunno,” she stammered back. Then a memory flashed – she was running off the porch, and the closest wight had swiped at her. “Around nine o’clock,” she whispered.

Putting her hands on Kelsey’s shoulders, Gina demanded softly, “Was it the wights?”

Nodding, she shivered as d’Homme’s words rang in her ears. You may be strong, but you’ve been touched…You are mine.
Shit.

Now Kelsey found herself in another dilemma. Upon arriving at the town hall, Kelsey had originally thought to talk to the mayor, or whoever was serving in his place, to see what was happening and try to explain what she knew. She knew the mayor of town to be a good man – not a fighter, but with a good head on his shoulders, and a caring heart to match. He cared about the town, and maybe could help organize help.

But now she found herself with two more options. First was the man who Gina had looked at earlier. He seemed to be the leader – if he was the one really in charge of the town’s armed civilians, maybe he was the one to discuss strategies with. However…her arm did not look good. Though she could think now at least, she was almost positive the cut had caused her dizziness and foggy mind earlier, and whereas before she hadn’t even noticed it, now it throbbed continually. Gina would certainly know more about it; after all, she had put together the book. Kelsey considered quickly – what were her priorities, and who did she need to talk to now?

The choice comes to Kelsey – strategy, strength, or information? Should she ignore her own needs and look after the town? Should she gather what strength she can and lead an assault like her predecessor, the mystic of old? Or should perhaps she put aside both these options, and discover what evil has beset her, and how to stop it? The choice, as always, is yours.
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The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing ~ Edmund Burke


Sans Dieu Rien Without God, Nothing

Visions of Shadow - 2nd part of Uncertain Quests! Chapter Two

Dreamwalker - Relocated to Linear Lane Sixth Chapter

Linear Story Nightrobber Now Complete!


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PostPosted: Thu Mar 30, 2006 8:29 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

There it be, the lovely new chapter, ready to be readed <heehee>. Enjoy!
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Sans Dieu Rien Without God, Nothing

Visions of Shadow - 2nd part of Uncertain Quests! Chapter Two

Dreamwalker - Relocated to Linear Lane Sixth Chapter

Linear Story Nightrobber Now Complete!
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 30, 2006 9:02 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Nice chapter. The only problem I have with this is that d'Homme sounds like an aftershave for men.

d'Homme, feel the power.

Ahem.. Anyway, can't she get her wound seen to AND talk to the man at the same time?
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PostPosted: Thu Mar 30, 2006 10:58 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Nate's a magical healer. If we get him to perform his mojo on it, it serves three purposes.

1) The hermit will see that Nate has powers and stop looking to Kelsey for all the answers.

2) The rest of the town will see that they have a new mystic in the making (what does it matter who they believe to be their saviour, as long as they believe that one of you is?)

3) He might be able to reduce or completely null the effects of Mort d'Homme's power over you.

Then, when he's done his best (which should take moments, if I remember correctly), you can ask to speak to the leader and try to organise either an attack or a more solidified defence. They'll be bound to listen once they've seen a demonstration of your (or Nate's) power Smile
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PostPosted: Fri Mar 31, 2006 11:13 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Oooh good idea Stoat Smile

Great chapter DF.

I'd also add we need to get as much as we can from the book author - saves a lot of reading. Hopefully she can be really helpful.

Happy Writing Smile
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PostPosted: Fri Mar 31, 2006 1:54 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Good points Stoat and Smee Very Happy
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PostPosted: Mon Apr 03, 2006 4:38 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

I'd say go for information myself.
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Blood Bowl
Scraping the Barrel
A Tale of Four Swords
Passion
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 3:30 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

ok, it's time for a new poll. Since no-one seems to be disagreeing with the stoat's idea of having Nate try to heal the wound, that's what we'll do. For the poll, you only have to decide who to talk to first - the mayor, the leader of the armed civilians, or Gina. If anyone wants to add something, I'll see if I can get it added in too.

Thanks for the suggestions and your continued interest in this story. Sorry about the names - I've never really been good at them, I just make stuff up and throw it in. Smile

And thanks to tramp in a storm for her nomination!

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The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing ~ Edmund Burke


Sans Dieu Rien Without God, Nothing

Visions of Shadow - 2nd part of Uncertain Quests! Chapter Two

Dreamwalker - Relocated to Linear Lane Sixth Chapter

Linear Story Nightrobber Now Complete!
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 3:35 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Voted, and winning.
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Punishment leads to Fear. Fear leads to Obedience. Obedience leads to Freedom. Therefore, Punishment leads to Freedom.
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Blood Bowl
Scraping the Barrel
A Tale of Four Swords
Passion
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PostPosted: Thu Apr 13, 2006 1:30 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

chinaren wrote:
Nice chapter. The only problem I have with this is that d'Homme sounds like an aftershave for men.

d'Homme, feel the power.

Ahem.. Anyway, can't she get her wound seen to AND talk to the man at the same time?



Kind of like your old banner for Garden, eh Chinaren?


If I may quote it:


"Garden, something different, by Chinaren"


Stoat has the right idea.

I don't know, I think we should talk to both myself. The new leader can tell us how to get a resistance going and Gina can give us more information about the warlock and how to banish him. Hopefully the book will at least refresh her memory on anything she might have forgotten... anyway, we need information from both but if it must be one, let's get it from Gina. Maybe she even has an idea how to reverse the wight curse before it kills Kelsey!

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PostPosted: Thu Apr 13, 2006 3:59 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

The new chapter is underway. Since it's a tie vote, we'll go with Lebrenth's suggestion. Both Gina and the guy in charge will be spoken to, before any other decision is made. Hopefully a couple days, but since it is Easter, I make no guarantees.
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The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing ~ Edmund Burke


Sans Dieu Rien Without God, Nothing

Visions of Shadow - 2nd part of Uncertain Quests! Chapter Two

Dreamwalker - Relocated to Linear Lane Sixth Chapter

Linear Story Nightrobber Now Complete!
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PostPosted: Sat Apr 15, 2006 8:06 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

This has been awesome!!!!

I can't believe I didn't see this earlier.
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PostPosted: Sat Apr 15, 2006 8:32 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

No longer a tie vote Wink

Sorry DF I somehow missed that you had a poll up here Sad
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PostPosted: Mon Apr 17, 2006 5:52 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

I have to apologize for the next chapter. When I started writing it, the vote was tied, so I wrote it talking to both the leader and Gina, beginning with the leader. I didn't see Ingro's tie-braking vote till after I was too far into the chapter to turn back. I do pay attention to your votes, I swear! This one just missed me I guess. Sad

Anyway, here's the new chapter. Enjoy!

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The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing ~ Edmund Burke


Sans Dieu Rien Without God, Nothing

Visions of Shadow - 2nd part of Uncertain Quests! Chapter Two

Dreamwalker - Relocated to Linear Lane Sixth Chapter

Linear Story Nightrobber Now Complete!
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PostPosted: Mon Apr 17, 2006 6:02 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Where? I can't see it? Very Happy
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PostPosted: Mon Apr 17, 2006 7:13 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

My stupid dsl picked a bad time to go on the blink...sorry about that...

1:15 – A Brief Respite

“Nate,” Kelsey whispered, “do you think you can do anything for it?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, but I sure as hell am gonna try.”

Gina looked between the two. “What do you mean?”

The siblings ignored her as Nate took hold of Kelsey’s elbow. Laying a hand over the wound, he closed his eyes and felt inside himself, for his own healing power. Unconsciously his fingers began probing the gash, and Kelsey winced but otherwise endured it. Finally he lay still, and once again the shock ran from him into the girl. This time felt a little different though – the sensation was muted, as though something was blocking Nate’s power from working fully. Still, when he opened his eyes again there was a definite difference in the wound. It wasn’t closed fully, and the blood still looked a little unnatural. But the black area of skin had shrank, and the clammy white skin had all but disappeared.

Looking up at Kelsey uncertainly, he asked, “How does it feel?”

The girl nodded. “Better. Not fully well, but better.”

Gina looked between the two with wide eyes. “How did you do that?”

Nate shrugged and replied, “I don’t really know, I just can.”

“Then you must be the mystic’s successor!” the lady exclaimed.

Exchanging a glance with her brother, Kelsey said, “Well, it’s…actually, I think we both are.” This made Gina look intensely thoughtful, and she sat back.

Meanwhile, Buck was regarding Nate with a new measure of respect. “I didn’t know you had power too, no I didn’t,” he said contritely. “Forgive me for not listening to you before, sorry sorry I am.” Nate looked rather unforgiving for a moment, until he caught Kelsey’s eye.

“Apology accepted,” he sighed grudgingly. Then he turned to Gina. “Do you have a first aid kit?” he asked. “I think I’d better bandage up her arm.”

Gina nodded and said, “I’ll be right back.”

As she stood up, Kelsey asked her, “Who is it in charge of everything here? Was it the man from earlier?”

The other woman nodded. “He took over when the mayor was… incapacitated.

Kelsey winced, then said, “I’d like to talk to him, if you don’t mind.”

A moment later Gina returned with the first aid kit. “He’ll be here in a minute,” she said. Kelsey nodded and closed her eyes as Nate bandaged her arm, rubbing liberal amounts of antibacterial cream on it beforehand. As he worked, Gina regarded the girl with concern. “You said you got that wound from a wight?” Kelsey nodded tiredly.

“Look, there’s something you should know – ”

But at that moment, the leader of the townspeople entered the room. Kelsey rose to her feet (with a little aid from Nate) and accepted the man’s handshake. “Jim Sampson,” he said. “I heard you wanted to talk to me.” When the man entered, Gina had stepped back unhappily, but Kelsey called her back before she could leave.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to you later too,” she said. The other woman nodded and settled back to wait. Then she turned back to Jim. “I’m Kelsey, this is my brother Nate, and this is Buck. My brother and I are…I suppose you’d call us mystics,” she said, feeling a faint flush on her cheeks. It almost seemed silly to call oneself a mystic in the presence of a grown man.

Jim didn’t react how she might have expected, with condescending disbelief. Instead he glanced over at Gina and said, “Then you are the ones she’s been telling us about,” he said.

“I…I guess so,” Kelsey affirmed.

The man nodded, and said, “What are your powers then?”

Stuttering, the girl said, “W-well, I think mine are, um, premonitions and…knowing, I guess. Nate – ”

“I can heal,” the boy said boldly.

With another nod, Jim sighed, “Forgive me for being…hesitant to believe your powers. I suppose after all that’s happened this shouldn’t seem odd. But would you mind…showing me these powers you have? I’ll do anything you ask, if I can see you’re the ones I should be following.”

Kelsey and Nate glanced at each other. “I suppose we can try,” the girl said hesitantly. “I’ll go first.” She, unlike Nate, had never really called upon her powers purposefully – they’d just come when she needed them. Still, she had to try, so she closed her eyes and concentrated. After a moment, she found what she needed. To Jim, she said, “When you were ten you had a pet snail named Dr. Doolittle. Your first truck was green, and your first girlfriend had red hair. Her name was Patsy.”

Jim raised his eyebrows, impressed. “I’d almost forgotten about that snail. Patsy…that was a long time ago.” Turning to Nate, he said, “And you?”

Nate in turn looked to Gina. “Where are you keeping your wounded?” he asked. The woman smiled at him and led them through the building. On their way they passed many other townspeople, who were either crying, shell-shocked, or sleeping fitfully. Most had some sort of weapon near them. Those who were aware of Kelsey and her companions stared at them emptily, reminding the girl eerily of the wights outside. She turned her gaze away.

Finally they arrived at a large assembly hall, where rows of injured people were laid out on cots and spare coats and blankets. There weren’t as many as Kelsey has expected, but it was as Gina explained: You either escaped from the wights unscathed, or you fell. The ones who fell usually didn’t make it anywhere ever again.

Upon entering the room, Nate looked around the people, until his eyes fell on a little boy, cradling a bound wrist to his chest as he lay on his side. He walked over and knelt beside him. “What’s your name?” he asked gently.

The boy looked up at him tearfully. “Ian,” he whimpered.

“May I see your arm, Ian?”

Hesitant, the boy nodded. Nate supported the wrist carefully and began unwrapping the binding. A young woman hurried over to him; Kelsey recognized her as the school nurse. “Don’t do that! You’ll hurt it more!” The poor girl looked quite beside herself, and Kelsey realized that she was the only qualified nurse or doctor in the room. Dr. Kinsley, the man who ran the health clinic in town, was nowhere to be seen…Kelsey closed her eyes sadly.

Nate ignored her instructions and put the wrapping aside. Ian’s wrist was swollen and bruised, possibly broken, but Kelsey was no doctor. The companions watched as Nate placed his other hand over the wrist and closed his eyes. The nurse and the boy looked at him fearfully, but Nate took no notice, and after a moment Ian’s expression changed from one of pain to one of wonder. When Nate released him, the arm looked almost normal, except for some yellowing bruises. “You fixed it!” he exclaimed.

The nurse looked between the arm and the young mystic who had healed it with shock and awe. “My God,” she murmured. “You did fix it!”

Kelsey turned to Jim. “Are you satisfied?” she asked, and the man nodded.

“Absolutely,” he replied. “I will do all in my power to aid you two, if you’ll help us get rid of that…warlock.” The word came tentatively from his lips, as if he couldn’t believe he was actually saying it, but after he did his resolve seemed to harden. It was as if he’d finally accepted all that had happened, and so could finally deal with it as best he could. “Come on, let’s go somewhere we can talk about what we need to do.”

The girl began to follow Jim as he led them away, but she realized Nate wasn’t with them. “Are you coming?” she asked him.

“Do you need me, do you think?” he asked, looking a little self-conscious. Then, hurriedly, “ ‘Cause if you don’t, I think I’ll stay here. After all,” he said, looking around the room, “I am a mystic. Maybe I can help them.”

On the tip of her tongue were questions like, “Aren’t you tired,” and “Shouldn’t you get some rest,” but after a moment’s consideration she halted them. Instead Kelsey regarded her brother with pride, and only said, “Don’t wear yourself out, we have a lot to do yet.” The boy grinned at her and set to work.

A few minutes later Kelsey, Buck, Jim, and Gina entered a small office. Jim closed the door behind them and asked, “So, what did you need to know?”

Feeling a little like a commando in some military movie, Kelsey said, “What’s the situation in town?” Starting from the beginning, the man began to explain what had happened, with Gina filling in some gaps. It went something like this: Around nine o’clock, the wights began their attack, popping up all around the town, mostly concentrated in the north – at the cemetery. People hid in their houses and called for police help, but they were busy fending off their own attacks, defending their families. Of course, people didn’t really want to believe that the creatures attacking them were anything other than breathing human beings, and couldn’t understand why gunshots and threats failed to scare them off. Even when they were actually fought it made no difference. Bullets didn’t stop them; knife wounds and good old-fashioned punches were ineffectual. Many people died in those first attacks.

Eventually though, people began to accept these were no ordinary attackers (some faster than others). Someone figured out that the wights feared fire, and hesitated at crossing flowing water. Finally, others were felled by head wounds, and after that people began to hold their own. A small group of people, Gina and Jim included, found each other and began to try to organize an escape. A policeman began driving through town, running down wights when he saw them, using the amplifier in his cruiser to broadcast the wights’ weaknesses, and telling them to get together their weapons and head to the town hall. The others had already begun calling those who lived out of town. The policeman had covered most of the town before he was beset by a dozen wights, and fell. Still, his sacrifice called those still alive together and most had gathered in the city hall by perhaps 11:30. Since then, the survivors (a frighteningly small number) had concentrated on guarding their refuge and taking care of their wounded.

Both Gina and Jim had shown themselves as leaders during this time. Jim had gathered a small force of armed men and woman and gone out to search the town for those still hiding. With his military training as a National Guardsman, Jim was able to lead his people and had helped save quite a few lives, and destroyed some wights in the process. At the city hall, Gina used her knowledge of the town’s history to tell people what was happening, aid the wounded, and fight off any wights that tried to attack. They had held out that way for some time, and Jim had only just returned from the town, with a few they had managed to save along the way. Since then they had only been waiting, and hoping for their promised mystic to appear, as the stories had said.

“And now you are here, you and your brother,” Gina said, after Jim finished. “Do you know how to use your power to stop d’Homme?”

Kelsey shook her head. “I’ve only really used the powers to find out things – premonitions, and like I did with you,” she said, nodding to Jim. “I can tell where d’Homme is, if I try, and I’ve talked to him mind to mind.” The girl shuddered at the memory.

“You talked to him? What did he say?”

“He said…” He said I was screwed*, she thought, but Kelsey couldn’t very well say that out loud. Then she remembered the last thing the warlock had mentioned. “He said he’d wait for me by his throne,” she recalled, frowning. “Like I know what that means.”

Gina shook her head, lost in thought. “I think…”

“He almost had us, in town,” Kelsey said. It popped out of her, but it seemed important to tell this part of the tale. “He was coming for us. H-he said he’d rip Nate apart, and I banished him from the town. But I don’t think he’s gone for good.”

“You banished him from the town? Just like that?” Gina looked relieved, even ecstatic. “That means your powers are coming in fully! By the time you face him again, maybe he can be banished not just from the town, but from life itself!”

“Maybe,” the girl replied uncertainly. “But I don’t know if I’m strong enough. I mean, if the old mystic couldn’t do it, who’s to say I can?”

“Of course you’re strong enough!” Buck exclaimed. Kelsey jumped, having almost forget the hermit’s presence. He had been standing by the door, rather like a sentry, and hadn’t spoken till now. “You are the successor, you have the power! Strong enough, pah,” he finished scornfully.

His confidence, rather than reassure the girl, only made her more distraught. It must have shown on her face, because Gina gave her a look that was both concerned and calm. The other woman leaned forward. “You were sick before, weren’t you?” she asked quietly. “Dizzy, aching, unable to think. But even so you banished him, and he’s at the cemetery, not here.”

“How did you know that?” Kelsey whispered. The men looked between the two women intently and exchanged glances.

Laying a hand on Kelsey’s arm, where Nate had bound it, she said, “Because of this wound. You’ve been touched.”

Kelsey shivered, and swallowed hard. “Touched?”

Looking into her eyes, Gina said, “There’s an old rhyme, from the legends. Girls used if for a jump-roping song,” she laughed humorlessly.

“ ‘Go, go, warlock’s coming,
Sends his minions, they come running.
Touch, touch, get ye back
Blood is gone, all to black.
Bite, scratch, all it takes –
Light it snuffs, life it breaks.
Touched, touched, end is nigh
Join his ranks, join and die.’ ”

There was silence for a moment after Gina finished her rhyme. Shakily Jim said, “A little morbid for a children’s rhyme, isn’t it?”

“You know what Ring Around the Rosie means, don’t you? Anyway, that rhyme was made after the first time d’Homme attacked. It was just another way to keep people from forgetting, or trying to. They forgot anyway. The only reason I’m interested in all this is because my mother told me the story when I was a child. You see,” said Gina, looking down, “My great-great-great grandmother was the old mystic’s niece.”

“You’re related to the mystic, the old one?” Buck asked.

When Gina nodded, Kelsey said, “But we’re distant cousins, on my dad’s side…which means she was related to me too!”

Again the woman nodded. “You see how it all happens again?” she murmured. “We,” with a nod to both Kelsey and Buck, “are the descendents of the originals, and together we stand a chance.”

“Except me,” Jim said. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’m pretty sure my ancestor wasn’t some old w – sorry, mystic, or her helper.”

“I don’t know, didn’t your grandpa grow up here?” Gina asked.

“That doesn’t mean anything necessarily,” Jim said uncomfortably.

“Maybe not,” Gina conceded. “But that doesn’t matter. Don’t you see? History is playing itself out again, and we are the result. You are the old mystic’s descendent and heir to her powers, Kelsey. You are the one who can stop the warlock. You’ve already demonstrated your power, and you’re stronger now than you were even then, thanks to your brother’s healing. I’ll bet that after you get a little rest, d’Homme won’t stand a chance.”

The girl hung her head. “How are you so confident, Gina?” she whispered. “I’m so afraid.”

Gina and Jim exchanged a glance. “You’d be crazy not to be afraid,” Jim said. “But you were given your power tonight for a reason. Lord knows I’m having a hard time taking this in,” he said with a half-laugh, “but even me, when I look at you, believe you can do it.”

“It’s your destiny, Kelsey, it is, it is,” murmured Buck. “Destiny ain’t wrong, can’t be wrong.”

When Kelsey still looked uncertain, Gina took her hand and said, “You’re here, you and your brother are alive, and you’ve already dealt d’Homme a blow. You’ve accomplished so much already, and your powers will only grow. You can do this, and we’ll be there to help you. You won’t be alone.”

Finally Kelsey nodded. “I’ll try,” she said. “You know I’ll try. So help me, I’ll kick his warlock ass or I’ll die trying.” The girl stood up. Her face was hardened with resolve, and there was a light in her eyes that made her both admirable and frightening. “Jim,” she said, “I need you and Buck to go back to your people. Get a group, arm them, prepare them. The time is almost here.” To Gina she said, “I need you to help me through the book you made. If there’s any information about what happened last time, I need to know it too. What d’Homme meant by his throne, how he’ll fight, anything that’ll help. And also…you were telling me about being touched. I need to hear the rest of it.”

The men nodded and left, Jim giving the girl’s shoulder a brief squeeze as he passed. Once they were gone, Kelsey lifted the two books out of her bag and laid them on the desk. “Please, start with the rhyme.” She looked at Gina, afraid but determined. “What does it mean?”

Gina sighed unhappily. “Mort d’Homme’s wights are formed both from the bodies of those already deceased, and from the unholy magic that d’Homme forced into them. This gives him control over them – they have no will but his. Without him they are nothing. But with him, they have both their parody of life, and the power to steal it from others.” The woman’s eyes clouded with anger as flipped open the pages of the book from the library. She read, “ ‘Wights carry in their bodies more than the power to simply claw and maim. If anyone from them receives a wound, by teeth or claw, d’Homme’s power will begin to work in them. It will sap their mind, steal their strength, and transform their body to the point of death. Then their corpse shall serve the warlock, adding to his strength, his newest minion – until the next unfortunate succumbs to the deadly disease.’ ” Hesitantly Gina looked at the girl. “Which means…”

“That’s what he meant,” Kelsey whispered. She was staring ahead with wide eyes, her right hand over her wound. Her eyes were dark and shocked. “ ‘You are mine’…he knew about my wound. How long do I have?”

Startled by the change in Kelsey’s tone, Gina stuttered. Looking at her intently, Kelsey demanded, “How long do I have before becoming one of them?”

“I-I don’t know,” Gina answered. “When I first saw the gash, I thought not long. But since Nate looked at it…I think he turned back the process a little. In the others who were injured like that, they first became really sick, dizzy and confused. In the last stages, their heads would clear, but the injury would bring them agony. I feared you were at the last stage, when I first saw you. But now…”

“It doesn’t hurt at all,” Kelsey said. “Well, it kind of hurts, but no more than it did before. And I can concentrate for the first time since we left Buck’s house.”

“So you’re an anomaly,” Gina said with a smile. “I think we’ve been given a little time.”

With Gina’s knowledge of the book they were able to read over the stories of the warlock’s first attack, and solved some mysteries. d’Homme considered himself to be the ‘king of dead’, and the cemetery was his domain. So when d’Homme said ‘my throne’ he was referring to the cemetery – or more specifically, the massive monument in the center of the cemetery that had survived since the mid-1800’s. Kelsey showed Gina where the monument was mentioned in Buck’s book.

Much of what was in the book about the incident was simply an account of what had taken place, but there were a few details about d’Homme and his powers. Most of them had to do with death; he could reanimate corpses, communicate with the spirits of the dead and force them to his command, bring disease and blight, and kill with a curse. The book also mentioned that he could, with a good deal of preparation and ritual, enslave a living body and rob control of it from the spirit it belonged to. Fortunately he had been banished before he could ever cast such a spell. Kelsey shuddered to imagine what it would be like, trapped in your own body and watching yourself commit the heinous acts of a madman’s will.

Gina was also able to tell Kelsey a little about the old mystic’s powers as well. As Kelsey had already known, she was a healer, using both her own power and her vast knowledge of different plants to heal the hurts of the townsfolk. She could divine knowledge from the past and sometimes received premonitions of the future, though those were vague at best. Locating things was another of her skills. Most of her skills were passive or defensive, and not much good in a battle. However, she did have the ability to banish d’Homme and his minions, and it was that skill that Kelsey would need. She only hoped that she would be strong enough in the moment of truth.

They spent a long time poring over the two books, until Jim interrupted their reading. Poking his head in the door, the man said, “I have gathered weapons and ammo, and people to use them. All we need now is the plan. What are you thinking?”

Jim looked at Kelsey. Gina looked at Kelsey. The girl looked away. “Well…”

Now it’s your turn. Is Kelsey ready for battle, or does she need more information? Who is going with her, and what is their strategy? When will they leave, and what must be taken care of before they go? These are the details that could mean victory – or a terrible defeat.


*She didn’t really think “screwed”. What she actually thought had to be censored out, because this story can only contain mild language.
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PostPosted: Tue Apr 18, 2006 6:27 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Interesting - we've found more history now, and learnt that time could well be running out for the heroine.

I still think she needs more information though - currently she doesn't know how to use her powers to their full extent, I'd say search for more information on them.
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PostPosted: Tue Apr 18, 2006 6:46 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Great chapter DF Very Happy

I would say that Kelsey can learn little more from books at this point. I think time is limited and she needs to confront D'homme before his control over her becomes too great. The townsfolk can get armed and dangerous and face the wights as a unit.

While they're getting kitted up though, I think Kelsey can take advantage of the time to try and get a vision of the original encounter. Perhaps this is the missing link she needs, to see what happened between Mort d'Homme and the Mystic last time. She may glean valuable insights into how to defeat him this time around.

Other than that, I think we need to act. Go Kelsey and Nate Very Happy
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PostPosted: Tue Apr 18, 2006 8:15 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Excellent chapter DF - lots of wonderfully brought together details.

The books are proving unhelpful in any form of useful power descrption, let along how to use such powers. She's been marked and time is limited. She'll have to be ready enough.

Stoat's idea of a vision is a good one - if she can't reach back to the past that far, then maybe she could try to visualise her confrontation earlier. Perhaps she'll glean some detail as to how her power was triggered thar she didn't realise at the time due to the effects of the injury?

Otherwise it's suit up, guns ready and go - with everyone that can adequately handle a gun.

Happy Writing Very Happy
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PostPosted: Wed Apr 19, 2006 3:53 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I agree it seems books arn't much help here. Seeking visions of the past sounds like a good idea. Following that they should head out to the battle and hope for the best.
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PostPosted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 11:18 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Unless I get a lot more replies with different opinions, Kelsey will try to look into the past, and then she'll take the other townpeople and try to stop the warlock for good. You'll have a few days to make more suggestions if you wish while I work on the new chapter for Uncertain Quests, so post away. If there are any suggestions floating around about how many people to take with them, any particular strategy to use, stuff like that, I'd like to hear it.
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PostPosted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 9:21 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Well well well, time to get down to brass tacks... or brass knuckles... or maybe brass shell casings? Anyway, I just hope we can motivate people to fight. We need a strong leader to pull them together, hopefully Jim will take care of that.

Kelsey and Nate need to practice their powers as much as they can without exhausting themselves, and I think it is very important that they focus on using their powers TOGETHER. It's nice to be able to split the powers, but we'll need a combined effort to banish or destroy Mort d'Homme, and it has a sort of poetic justice feel to it.

We have to get more information on this "throne". Does anyone know anything more than the fact it's an 1800's monument in the cemetery? Is it a memorial to any particular person or persons? Why was it erected in the first place? Who is this Mort d'Homme, anyway? Do we know where he came from? What made him powerful?

A strategy on defeating Morty should be centered on the throne, or rather getting Nate and Kelsey (and Gina would be helpful) to the throne. If Mort can sense them as well as I think he can, then a simple sneak through the cemetery isn't possible. We might have to just fight through! Maybe we can make some Molotov Cocktails if we find a liquor store, since fire is such a strong weapon. Gas from a gas station might be good too.

And though it's very hard to be certain what to do to defeat our nemesis, perhaps destroying his throne will help. Dynamite or grenades, or maybe a bulldozer or something, but something with a lot of power to physically destroy the stone monument, and we can use Kelsey's potential "find it" power to locate these handy dandy things, perhaps.

And I agree that meditating on the past is a good idea, as long as we're mindful of the time.

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PostPosted: Thu Apr 27, 2006 7:14 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

New chapter has begun!
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PostPosted: Sat May 06, 2006 2:04 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I cant wait for the next chappy.....whats this??? it isnt up!?!? Confused

guess ill just go ill some mushes on maplestory*







if you know what it even is Smile
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PostPosted: Mon May 08, 2006 4:51 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Wow, this chapter is taking a long time...maybe a few days. Hopefully less, but you can never know.
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PostPosted: Thu May 11, 2006 5:40 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Wow. I missed alot, and it just keeps getting better. Can't wait to read the next chapter! This rocks DF! Very Happy
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PostPosted: Thu May 11, 2006 7:41 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Shocked
I'VE BEEN AWAY 5 WHOLE DAYS!!!!!!! NO NEXT CHAPPY?!??!?!
*heart attack*omg....someone help me!*gasps* Surprised
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PostPosted: Thu May 11, 2006 7:56 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

This is just part one of chapter twelve. It was getting very long, and I needed to post something. With any luck, part two will be along soon.

2:20 – Battle

Kelsey pondered the question. What was she thinking? There wasn’t much more she could glean from the book, and they couldn’t readily find more information. But what they had to go on wasn’t very much. Maybe…maybe there was another way to find out more.

“Okay, this is what I’m thinking. First off, though, how many people did you get?”

“About three dozen all told. I recruited the most able-bodied ones I could get. Hopefully that’ll be enough, but I didn’t want to take too many and leave this place unguarded.”

Kelsey nodded her agreement. “I agree. What kind of ammo you got?”

Jim shrugged. “A lot of rifles, some privately owned pistols and side-arms from the police station. A few explosives, including some home-made bombs.” The man grinned. “How did it go on that movie? ‘A few household chemicals in the proper proportions.’ Fortunately, I found the ones in town who know what those proportions are. Oh, and a lot of bludgeons. Someone even has a sword from the East.” Turning serious again, the man reassured her, “Everyone has at least two weapons, long range and close-up, with enough left to cover here as well. Though I suppose if we succeed, we won’t have to worry about that.”

“There are many grenades in my truck, Kelsey, many bombs,” Buck said. “Guns, and bullets, and rounds. They will go with us too.”

“Any flame throwers?”

“Only Buck’s.”

As she nodded, the girl was struck by an idea. “Do you have any liquor?”

A grin spread on Gina’s face. “You thinking of treating the wights to some Molotov Cocktails?” she asked.

“I like the way you girls think,” Jim said. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Okay, then this is the plan, I think.” Kelsey frowned in thought and then said, “I need to check how Nate’s doing, and then I’m going to try to use my powers. If I can look into the past, maybe I can see how the mystic battled d’Homme before. While I’m doing that, Jim, I need you tell everyone exactly what’s going to be happening. The warlock will sense us coming, so there’s no point sneaking. We’ll be ambushed every moment, so I think it best if we stick to the trucks till we get to the cemetery. After that we have to find d’Homme, which I can do. There’ll be a lot of wights to shoot on the way. Once we reach the warlock…” Kelsey took a shuddering sigh and said, “Hopefully by then I’ll know what to do.”

As Jim nodded and turned to leave, another thought occurred to the girl. “While you’re looking for the booze, see if you can find cans of air-freshener and cigarette lighters.”

The latter two supplies had Jim slapping her on the back. “I really like your style, Kelsey.” With that he turned and left, to carry out her orders. Her orders…it was really hard to believe. She sighed and shook her head. Turning to Gina, she said, “Will you be coming with us, when we…you know…attack?”

“Are you kidding?” Gina grinned wolfishly and said, “I wouldn’t miss it.”

Feeling thus reassured, Kelsey made her way back to where the wounded were being taken care of. Going through the doors, she was surprised to see how much it had emptied. She scanned the large room and finally spotted Nate at the far end, leaning over someone lying on a cot. As she approached them she saw how tired he looked, but still he was kneeling by the wounded man, holding his hand with his eyes closed in concentration. Kelsey waited till he’d opened his eyes to approach him.

“Nate,” she said. He looked up at her and smiled. “How’re you doing?”

“Fine,” he said. Shaking his head, he said, “Actually I’m bushed, but it was worth it.” Looking around the room, he said quietly, “They’re all healed, Kelsey. Everyone was able to walk out on their own. Except for these ones.” Looking sadly at the remaining cots, he said in a lower tone, “These are the ones who’ve been touched. I can’t heal them completely either. I think…they won’t get better till d’Homme is dead.”

The girl nodded, but inside she was terribly afraid. Everything seemed to depend on them. “It’s good you helped so many,” she said. “I’m proud of you.” At another time such a comment would have chafed him, but now Nate just nodded his thanks and smiled. “Anyway, I’ve been talking to Gina and Jim.” Quickly she filled him in on the essence of what they’d discussed, while he sat with his back against the wall and rested. He didn’t speak until she’d finished detailing what she had in mind for d’Homme.

“I think it’s a good idea to see what happened before,” he said. “We need all the help we can get. What should I do while you’re, you know…looking back?”

“I dunno. Get some rest,” she said. “Maybe see if Jim needs help, but I think it’s best if you just gather your strength.”

Nate nodded, then perked up and asked, “Do you think there’s any food? I’m starving.”

Laughing, Kelsey said, “There probably is. Go see, I’m gonna try my idea.” In a flash the boy was gone. Shaking her head, Kelsey found a quiet place to sit and leaned against the wall. Closing her eyes, she tried to see something, some hint of the past confrontation. She could feel d’Homme’s presence to the north, and she stayed away from it. Instead she cast about in her mind, trying to fall backwards. Just when Kelsey thought it was a waste of time, she felt her mind latch on to something, and all the sudden her mind was hurtling backwards, colors rushing into darkness behind her closed eyelids. Suddenly the feeling stopped, and she felt a sense of vertigo as she peered into a scene that was so vivid she could almost reach out to touch it.

It was the northern cemetery. The night was dark, with fog twining through the headstones and the grass damp and slick with moisture. A stone monument stood wreathed in mist, and she could see why d’Homme called it his throne. It sat on a raised concrete pad to give it precedence, and was composed of two layers. The first was about knee height and shaped in a rectangle, six feet by four feet. Rising from the center of this block was the main section of the monument, rising another six feet into the air, four feet wide, and one foot deep. If you ignored the lack of armrests, it could almost be a throne. There was writing on the front of the stone slab, but whatever had been there originally was no longer readable. The stone had stood in the cemetery since the town had been established, and the writing was largely worn away. Even so it would have been visible, if not for the huge crack that marred the face of the monument, a great gaping fissure that gathered darkness like a spider’s web, tiny cracks like tributaries spreading in all directions. The damage to the monument looked brand new, though Kelsey had seen it before when her family had visited the old graveyard.

Looking around, Kelsey realized that the entire cemetery was in a similar state of newly inflicted damage. The other tombstones were cracked, some slanting to the side, and some completely crumbled into rubble. All the cross markers had been ripped up and turned upside down, pointing like accusing fingers from the ground. Before the headstones the sod was broken, as if the earth had been pushed aside from below. Then Kelsey remembered the passage from Buck’s book, and realized with a shudder that that was exactly what had happened.

These details held Kelsey’s attention for only a moment before her gaze returned to the monument – and the one who sat upon it. It was the warlock, Mort d’Homme, sitting upon the stone edifice, leaning casually against the tall stone slab as if it were his personal backrest. His arms rested upon two human skulls that grinned into the fog like escapists from an asylum. In the swirling mist his eyes seemed to glow as he watched the group that stood before him with amusement and boredom.

The group in question was a large group of farmers and other of the town’s citizens, dressed in 19th century getup, holding old-fashioned firearms, pitchforks, axes, oil lanterns, torches. It was painfully evident they’d been through battle – they were splattered with gore, pale and shivering, clutching their weapons with white knuckles. Surrounding them were ranks of earth-covered wights.

None of the creatures were moving forward, but completely surrounded a circular space around the town’s warriors and the monument. They were eerily silent, watching with eyes that glowed malevolently. Nothing moved within that circle – not the warlock, nor the farmers, or even the mist – until one old, white haired woman stepped forward.

Kelsey felt her heart speed up. That’s her! she thought. My predecessor…the mystic. The woman stepped forward, and her aged eyes locked on the warlock's. There was a moment of silence…and then the wights surged forward. The clearing exploded with noise. Wights cried hatred, the farmers screamed with rage and terror. Blood spilled, flames crackled, men and undead fell together. And in the center of it all stood the mystic and d’Homme, unmoving, eyes locked in a fight just as desperate as the one being played out around them.

Somehow Kelsey sensed that the two were communicating mind-to-mind, as she herself had done with the warlock before, but she couldn’t tell what they were saying. Instead she watched as d’Homme’s face grew more scornfully amused, the mystic grew paler, and then as finally the warlock rose from his seat and held up his hands. The girl felt the power being built around him, and she gasped, forgetting she was just observing and couldn’t be harmed. The magic around him left a sour tang in her mouth, and tasted like rot and darkness.

Shifting her eyes to the mystic’s lined face, Kelsey saw the fatigue etched in every wrinkle, just as she saw the determination in her eyes. The woman stepped forward, her arms limp and dangling beside her, her back slightly stooped. She couldn’t have looked more beaten, but then she spoke, and Kelsey felt the force in her voice.

In the same way that d’Homme’s magic was dark, the mystic’s power was light; as the warlock’s spell tasted of decay, the old woman’s was laced with the scent of spring. “You, creature, are banished!” she cried, and as she spoke her back straightened, her head rose, and she began to shine with an ethereal light. It stole her age away, and made her appear…not young, but timeless. Throwing her hand out before her, she finished, “Begone, and trouble us not.”

All at once the ground seemed to shake as the mystic’s power rivaled that of the warlock. Even then, Kelsey felt that the warlock had lost. She knew it, and so, more importantly, did d’Homme. He screamed, his voice rising and echoing in the mist, as he fell to his knees. His body contorted, and his clenched hands looked more like claws than anything else. Kelsey shrank back from his fury, and felt her mouth dry when d’Homme lifted his eyes once more to the mystic’s. “I’ll return,” he whispered, and his voice was full of menace. Then, he disappeared.

At the same time the wights also stopped, their wailings cut out abruptly as their connection to their master, and his magic, was severed. They fell to the ground as piles of thick wet earth, and the sudden silence was unnerving. Kelsey looked around, expecting more shapes to approach through the fog, but none did. Returning her eyes to the mystic, she saw that the woman had fallen, her breathing shallow as she told two men words that were too faint for Kelsey to hear. She peered into their faces and could not miss the resemblance they shared with Buck. They were his father and uncle of old, just as the book had said.

At last the mystic laid back, her message finally given. Kelsey moved closer to her, watched as the men bowed their heads, and felt sorrow as this woman – the savior of a town, her own distant ancestor – breathed her last breath. Then something happened that shocked her out of her wits. The old woman’s eyes moved, and locked onto Kelsey’s. The girl’s breath caught in her throat, for she was certain that the mystic saw her, which was impossible…wasn’t it?

Then the mystic closed her eyes, and her body went limp. The vision started to fade away, the mist crowding upon her vision, as Kelsey drifted away. She realized she was exhausted, and despite herself, she faded into sleep.

She found herself in her old recurring nightmare, in a dark forest, fog twining between the trees. An unseen menace lurked behind her, and she prepared herself to run…

As she turned she saw in front of her a spot of brightness, a shining light. It faded softly, and condensed to the form of the old woman. Kelsey gasped.

The mystic looked at her with some surprise, then at the woods they were in, and finally over her shoulder, as if fearing pursuit as well. “Well, I’ve never had company here before,” she remarked.

Kelsey gaped at the apparition. Then a branch cracked behind her, and she exclaimed frantically, “We have to run! It’ll – ”

“It’ll do nothing,” the woman interrupted. “This is a dream, Kelsey. Nothing more. Nothing will hurt us here.”

Now that the mystic had said it, Kelsey straightened up from her fearful half-crouch and looked around. She realized she was in the nightmare, something she’d never before known until the moment she woke up. Now that it was pointed out to her, she finally saw the monochromatic quality to her surroundings, the way that she felt no cold or damp, nor the bark beneath her fingers as she touched one of the eerie trees.

“It is a dream,” she murmured. Looking to the mystic, she asked, “How did…how are you…”

“This is my nightmare too,” she answered. “For the last month it has been mine.”

Confused, Kelsey inquired, “How can we be dreaming it at the same time?”

Smiling at Kelsey’s bewilderment, the woman said gently, “Dreams are timeless, Kelsey. We can be in one, together though separated by many years, because of that timelessness, and because of the power we share.” Behind them more branches snapped, and moaning could be heard. The girl jumped, and the mystic scowled slightly. “Let’s get rid of them, shall we? Concentrate with me.” Then she closed her dream-eyes, and the sound of the pursuers began to fade. Kelsey caught on and concentrated as well, forcing the fog away. With their combined will the forest ceased to be menacing and transformed into a simple moonlit wood, safe and harmless.

The mystic smiled. “That’s better. Now I imagine you have many questions.”

Nodding, Kelsey said, “I do. How you know my name, for one.” Biting her lip, she said, “Though that’s not really important. What I really need to know is how – ”

“How to defeat d’Homme?” the mystic questioned. “I found your name, and his, in your mind, Kelsey. We are mystics, after all. I heard that knowledge in your thoughts.”

“Oh,” Kelsey said, somewhat unintelligently. “Like what I did with Jim?” The old woman nodded. “I see.” Sighing, she said, “I was trying to use my power to look back upon your fight with d’Homme. I needed to see how to beat him. But maybe you could help me?” The hopeful question trailed away as the mystic shook her head.

“You don’t need my help, Kelsey, or anything else’s, to learn to use your power. Knowledge is unnecessary; when you’re given power, the ability to use it is within you. You don’t find power by watching. You find it by doing.”

“But what if I can’t stop him?” Kelsey asked desperately. “What if I can’t use the power right?”

Laying a wrinkled hand on Kelsey’s cheek, the mystic reassured her, “When I go up against d’Homme, I don’t know if I can defeat him beforehand. I don’t know how to use the power against him. But when I face him in the end, I will.” The old woman smiled, and her eyes sparkled kindly. “I know it’s frightening. Any power is. But you have the ability to defeat him, Kelsey. Do not doubt yourself.”

All along people had been telling her that she could succeed, that the ability was within her. But hearing it now, from the one person who would really know, accomplished what all the words of reassurance before could not. Kelsey felt herself smiling, and laid her hand over the mystic’s. “Thank you,” she said. Frowning lightly, she remarked, “I don’t even know your name.”

The old woman shook her head. “It does not matter,” she said. “I think it is time for you to go. Someone is waking you.”

Kelsey nodded. “Thank you again,” she said, and drew away.

The mystic sighed, then cocked her head. Her eyes widened momentarily as if she had just realized something, and she caught Kelsey’s hand. “There is one thing you must remember,” she said, and her eyes were intense. But Kelsey felt herself being pulled away, as the dreamscape began to fade. She saw the mystic’s lips move, but couldn’t quite make out the words. What? she called back, What is it? But there was no answer.

When she opened her eyes she was once again at the city hall, and Gina was hovering over her, shaking her awake. “Stop it!” Kelsey snapped, angry at being pulled away from the dream in what may have been the most crucial moment.

Gina backed off, startled by the girl’s tone, and said, “You’ve been asleep for half an hour now, but I think that’s all the time we can afford. Did you find anything?”

Thinking about the vision and the considerably more informative dream, Kelsey replied, “Sort of.” Heaving herself to her feet, she said, “Is everything ready?”

The other woman nodded. “Jim’s talked to all the volunteers, everyone’s armed and ready.”

“How’s Nate?”

“He had some food and zonked out right away. I think all that healing drained him.”

“Did not!” Kelsey turned to see Nate approaching. Smiling sheepishly, he said, “Alright, I guess it did some. But I’m ready to go now.” Kelsey saw he was. Besides the gory pipe he’d carried from their home, he was also armed with a pistol, several of Buck’s grenades, a BIC lighter, and several cans of aerosol. With the weapons, Nate also wore a Kevlar vest, and Kelsey saw he was holding one out for her as well. “One of the policemen grabbed a bunch from the station before coming here,” he said by way of explanation. “He wanted us to use them.” Kelsey nodded and slipped it on, then followed her brother to where Buck, Jim, and the promised group of warriors waited. The men were waiting to arm her, similarly to Nate, except she had her trusted bat with her, rather than a pipe. No one felt the need to ask her what she’d found out, or if she’d seen anything at all. They just watched as Kelsey buckled on her borrowed ammo belt, placed the grenades in their compartments, holstered the gun and put the air freshener within easy reach.

When she’d finished, Kelsey looked up at the group around her. Everyone looked grim and determined; no one was without fear. Nate stood by her side, and his expression and stance alone made the girl proud. Jim, Gina, and Buck (holding his flamethrower eagerly) watched her expectantly, as did the men and women behind them. For a moment Kelsey’s courage almost failed. They looked so trusting, they’d put their faith in her…what if she let them down? What if she let everyone down? Then Kelsey felt the phantom brush of a hand on her cheek, heard the old mystic’s words. Do not doubt yourself. Trying to push her fear away, Kelsey raised her head and said, “Let’s go.”

As she strode to the doors, Kelsey heard Buck mutter, "Finally."

Kelsey and Nate have prepared for battle, but the confrontation is still to come. Perhaps soon, we shall see who will prevail…
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PostPosted: Thu May 11, 2006 8:18 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Very good! Very Happy
Cant wait for the second part!
artist impression of buck,eagerly waiting for a fight(without his flamethrower): Smile
ROFLMAO Very Happy
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PostPosted: Thu May 11, 2006 11:39 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Wonderful telling of the dreams. I love this storygame Very Happy

I know this isn't exactly a DP, but one thought that occurred when I was reading the dream-sequences. Mort d'Homme always appears at the throne. The throne has some writing on it that we couldn't read.

Would Gina know what the writing was? Could we ask her before we get to the battle?

And if no answer is forthcoming, we should try to destroy the throne this time around. It may be key to his power Shocked
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PostPosted: Fri May 12, 2006 7:47 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Yes, good one Dragon Fire 0 bring on the next one.

I don't know Shady - I suppose it may be worth looking into, but do they have enough time to spare, especially if it turns out to be a lost cause.
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PostPosted: Fri May 12, 2006 7:53 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Well, I was thinking on the way to the battle, she could ask Gina. Talking wouldn't stop them from travelling.

And destroying the chair is once the battle is underway, so it won't lose them any time either Smile
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PostPosted: Sat May 13, 2006 6:49 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Great Chapter, Can't wait for the second part of it...

Shady, maybe that was what the mystic was going to tell her before she was pulled away from the dream... :hm:

Now I really want to know what happens next.

*sits on the edge of her seats and waits*

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PostPosted: Sat May 20, 2006 5:24 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

3:20 – Battle (cont.)

The party piled into the abandoned vehicles, taking three trucks, a van, and an old beater car. Windows were rolled down and guns poked out of them, bludgeons were in easy reach. Buck was driving his own truck, which was to lead the procession. Riding shotgun to him was Jim, with Gina, Kelsey, and Nate in the backseats. Even more were crowded in the back, but Buck had insisted that ‘his mystics’ ride with him in the cab. The girl was glad Buck had finally recognized Nate for what he was as well.

It was a grim party that drove to the cemetery that night. Morning, rather, Kelsey thought yawning, but inside she was wide-awake and thinking. She was considering her vision and the monument in the cemetery, d’Homme’s ‘throne’. It once had writing on it, but had been obliterated by the cracks. When she had visited the graveyard before Kelsey had never been able to understand more than one or two words of the old weathered inscription, but there had once been something there.

“Gina,” she asked, “do you know when the cracks on the monument first appeared?”

“According to the official records, sometime in the late 1800’s.” Glancing at the girl, Gina said, “The local lore puts their appearance at the time of d’Homme’s first attack.”

Kelsey nodded. It was nothing less than what she’d expected. “Do you know what it used to say?”

“Actually, I did find a record of the original inscription. It used to be a tribute to town’s fallen soldiers. I don’t remember the exact words,” she continued apologetically, “but it said something about honoring the town’s dead, and those who gave their lives in defense of ‘home, country, and God.’ ”

Of course it would make sense that d’Homme would choose such a monument and defile it for his own purposes. Kelsey’s anger flickered inside her again, and she stared moodily out the window. The rest of the ride passed in anticipatory silence. Outside the streets were eerily silent, the fog lit by streetlamps and the procession’s headlights only. No wights had attacked them yet, which was something that Kelsey found disconcerting. She didn’t feel like mentioning it though – what would it change? They were going forward, for good or ill, till the task was done.

Finally they arrived at the gates of the cemetery, a ten minute drive north of town. Its tall stone walls were beautiful in daylight, but intimidating in the darkness, and the wrought iron fence looked very toothy and menacing. It also hung open, the chain that normally locked it in the evenings ripped apart and lying discarded on the ground. The two halves of the gate were separated by several feet, and Kelsey’s gut clenched when she noticed that the ground was littered with piles of the wights’ trail of maggoty earth.

Buck saw all this and, though he did slow down, didn’t stop. Instead he drove carefully forward and nudged the gate with the ramming grill on the front of his truck. Kelsey understood his reasoning…she didn’t want anyone away from the safety of the truck for any length of time, even just long enough to push the gates wholly open.

As they crawled slowly through the now open gates, Kelsey looked out at the fog and felt a terribly eerie feeling creeping into her. The mists were so thick that nothing beyond ten feet of the trucks was visible. Anything could be out there, and there was no way for them to know what they were driving into.

Everyone was silent as Buck led the way along the road. Weapons clicked and jeans creaked as people kept watch, but there was nothing to see. Finally though Buck slowed the truck to a stop, and the others behind followed suit. Kelsey saw in a moment why he’d stopped – the road into the graveyard had widened into the parking space behind the large stone sanctuary beside the gates (which housed memorable plaques remembering people who hadn’t been buried in the graveyard), and beyond that the rows of graves began. There was no driving path between the headstones. They were on foot from here.

There was a sudden flux of noise as doors were opened and people hopped onto the gravelly road. Weapons were handed out, and people clicked the safeties of their guns. Kelsey knew they were wondering why they hadn’t been attacked yet, but Kelsey had no answers. This was not what had happened last time, she remembered. The mystic and her people had fought for every inch they gained to the cemetery.

When all the town’s warriors were ready, Kelsey led the way to where she felt d’Homme waiting. No one spoke, and everyone was trying to be silent, but every sound they made echoed through the fog clearly. Occasionally Kelsey would think she heard other noises, shuffling footprints and stifled moans, surrounding them, but there was no way to know if it was her imagination. Still they were not attacked.

The damage to the cemetery was just as Kelsey had seen it in her vision – not a cross unturned, not a headstone uncracked. There was something different though, and she realized what it was in a moment. The earth over the graves was untouched from below. No wights had pushed themselves up into existence here. Because there are no bodies buried here anymore! she realized. This was the older section of the graveyard – and these bodies had already been used by d’Homme.

At last they entered an area clear of headstones. Kelsey knew that in the center of them would be an arc of willow trees, (allegedly to honor those who fell after the warlock’s first attack). In the center of those trees was the monument…and d’Homme.

When the entire group had come onto the wide area of cleared grass, the fog suddenly swirled away from them, forming a solid wall that made it seem as though the clearing, the trees, and the townsfolk were the only things in existence. They could suddenly see all the way across the clearing, to the stand of willows that formed a crescent around and behind the monument. The stone glistened and shone as the light of their flashlights reflected off the dampness left behind by the mist. And on that monument…

An echoing laugh reverberated off the walls of fog as people moaned in fear. Kelsey’s throat felt dry, and she had trouble swallowing, as she saw what waited ahead. It was the black, shadowy form of Mort d’Homme, the black tendrils wrapping around themselves, hovering over and around the stone slab that was, he claimed, his throne.

“A wraith,” Gina whispered. “He came back as a wraith.”

The warlock’s laughter only grew louder as the group moved slowly, tremblingly, forward. The light of his eyes glowed a bright venomous green, and as they approached the swirling mass of darkness that comprised his form began to writhe excitedly. It shifted between forms, coalescing into the image of a tall king, shifting into a massive vulture perching above their heads, changing again into the bent skeletal form of the Grim Reaper, scythe at ready. Then it briefly changed again, into the warlock’s living form, lounging easily on the monument, until it spread out again, engulfing the throne and twisting upon itself with macabre delight.

“So, little witch,” the warlock crowed, “you’ve come. And you even brought a following!”

His ridicule made the girl hot with anger, but it couldn’t burn away the coldness of her fear completely. He looked so massive, so otherworldly…and she had to defeat him. Stepping forward, she said, “Tonight is the night you die for good, d’Homme.”

Hearing her brave words the rest of the company was emboldened as well. Someone even cheered, and suddenly the voices of the town’s warriors broke forth, yelling, screaming support for Kelsey, a few of the braver ones hurling taunts at the warlock as well. Perhaps it was fortunate that their numbers and the fog served to confuse the words being said, or d’Homme might have become truly angry. As it was, the red from his deadlights became more pronounced, and he loomed up, spreading his form so it seemed like the wings of a fallen angel were spread over their heads.

“Let’s see how brave you are now!” he hissed, and the fog was pushed back again. Now they could see for twenty yards in each direction, and the sight made Kelsey gape. Every visible space they could see was filled with wights, standing in chaotic ranks in a perfect circle, girthing the entire clearing.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. So many…

“I’m afraid he won’t hear you,” d’Homme sneered. “This is my realm, and they answer to me.” As you will soon, witch! he cried, to her only, as the mass of wights surged forward in a cacophony of noise. Suddenly there was nothing but sound – hissing and hunting screams, guns discharging rapidly, bursts of flame. As the wights got closer, there was thumps of bats and clubs on undead flesh, and the terrified screams of people as they fell where they stood.

Everything seemed to be in motion, as Nate, Buck, Jim and Gina surrounded Kelsey and battled anything that approached. They were trying to protect her, but they needn’t have bothered. No wight approached the girl, because her battle was with the warlock, and nothing else.

Your end is here, warlock, she spat from her mind, trying to sound confident. She felt her own power rising up, but would it be enough? It felt so small to her…

Is that so, little witch? d’Homme sounded both angry and amused. You thwarted me once, that is true. I underestimated you there. You rose to your brother’s defense more assuredly than you would have had I threatened only you. The green glow from his form was fixed on Kelsey as he continued, But there is no such problem here. This is my realm, my kingdom, and you are nothing. As the warlock spoke a rising power pressed down against Kelsey, and it felt cloying and hot to her. Her own power pushed it back, but while hers fought, his kept growing.

You see? He sneered. You having nothing to push me back. Already you sweat, little witch.

She did. Her body trembled with the effort of holding back his steady wave of force. It was pouring onto her like a wave, slow and inexorable. She couldn’t hold this for long.

Desperately she held onto her power, pulling it around herself, ready to throw it against the warlock, to wrap it around him, smother him, and crush him out of this life. She steadied herself, and stepped forward. Taking a breath, she began to cry out the words that would banish him forever.

No, he said. It was not a fearful denial, nor any sort of force was behind it. d’Homme said it simply, lazily, as if he had expected her actions. Suddenly his power fell upon Kelsey with force, pressing her, swirling around her, dragging her down. Staggering, she looked into the pale green deadlights that were his eyes, and the red glow within threatened to engulf her. Suddenly her arm throbbed, and the skin felt as if it was burning, so cold did it feel. Her head was filled with fog, and she couldn’t think anything - anything except, I’ve failed.

* * *

Nate held up his pistol and shot. It wasn’t easy to aim the weapon, but the wights were close enough it almost didn’t matter. The creatures fell as bullets buried themselves into their brains.

Buck stood on Kelsey’s other side, going to town with his flamethrower and shotgun. Behind the girl on either side were Jim and Gina, doing their best to keep the wights at bay. Nate didn’t think about any of that, too busy in his own battles. A wight surged forward as Nate’s clip emptied. Nate let go of the gun and felt it swing back and forth from his forearm like a pendulum. During the drive he’d used some thick string from the town hall to tie it to his wrist, so it would never be far from reach. So he dropped the gun and grabbed up the pipe and began swinging with all his might. The wight, and the ones after it, fell after a few minutes of furious battle, and then Nate stuck the pipe between his knees and grabbed a can of air freshener and a lighter. Wights whooshed up in flames before him and stumbled back, giving him enough time to shove a full clip into the pistol and begin firing once again.

The boy supposed the battle could have continued like this for some time, as he lost himself in an oblivion of attack, retreat, bullet, metal and fire. But then he felt something hit his shoulder. Spinning around, he saw it was Kelsey. Her face was deathly pale, and her eyes were fixed ahead, on d’Homme. The warlock’s eyes were fixed on her intently, and Nate realized that the air echoed with the evil wraith’s laughter. “No,” he whispered. “No!”

Something was wrong; something had gone horribly off track. Kelsey was clutching her elbow, and black blood welled between her fingers. Nate heard himself screaming. “Kelsey!” She didn’t hear.

d’Homme’s laughter grew until it could be heard even above the blasts of gunfire, until it was all that could be heard. People stopped in their tracks, wights ended their battles and looked at their master. The wraith’s form was turning back and forth upon itself, twisting with the warlock’s glee. Kelsey fell to her knees.

“This is your end, little witch,” d’Homme growled, his laughter ended. For a moment there was utter silence as living and undead alike watched the warlock’s writhing form. Then a thick tendril of darkness shot out, reaching like a clawing hand for Kelsey, whose eyes were squeezed shut and streaming tears.

“No!” cried Nate, echoed by more of the townspeople, Jim and Gina included. The boy stumbled forward, but Buck was quicker. Dropping his weapons, he took a step and leapt, colliding with the warlock’s dark appendage. It wrapped around him instead, and he was dragged into the air, yelling defiantly, until d’Homme silenced him forever.

Around them the wights began their fighting again while the wraith was momentarily distracted. Jim grabbed up Buck’s flamethrower and stepped in front of Kelsey, keeping any attacking creatures at bay. Nate had a moment to thank Buck for his sacrifice before his eyes fell upon something else that the hermit had dropped before his leap.

His artillery belt.

In only a moment Nate was lunging forward, grabbing a bomb with his right hand while his left grabbed for his lighter. He knew only one thing – something was wrong with Kelsey and d’Homme couldn’t be defeated until they figured out what it was. It didn’t seem likely he’d give them that opportunity. They needed a distraction, and Nate would provide it.

The boy lit the fuse and hurled the bomb forward, and watched as it arced perfectly to fall on the seat of the monument. “Get down!” he yelled as he ducked down, dragging Kelsey with him.

An instant later the bomb exploded. Shards of stone flew up into the air as the monument shattered completely, right in the center of the wraith. He howled as flames exploded outwards, hitting the nearby willow trees and igniting them as well. The dark mass of d’Homme gathered itself into a dense ball and shot away, fleeing the flames that undead fear. The fog slammed back to its original place, no longer held by the warlock’s will. All around them, wights cried out in panic and scrambled back from the flames as the fire spread to all the willows, lighting the fog with a terrible, beautiful glow.

People too screamed in panic and tried to get back, but Jim saw their moves and called out, “Run to the trucks! Clear the way with Molotov cocktails!” It was surprising that he could be heard in the din, but someone on the other end of the group had enough sense to follow his instructions, and they began a wild flight through the fog to their temporary safety.

Nate raised his head to see nothing but the last traces of fleeing figures hurrying away. Every fearful instinct within told him to follow, but instead he turned to his sister. “Kelsey!” he said, shaking her. “Get up, come on! We have to run!”

Groggily the girl lifted up her head. In her eyes was the same fuzzy expression Nate had noticed earlier, on the drive into town, till the moment the reached the town hall. It was the expression he’d seen on all the people he’d healed at the town hall, the one’s who’d been ‘touched’. He looked desperately into her eyes.

“Kelsey,” he pleaded. “Please, get up.”

She staggered to her feet, but as she rose her hand flew to her head and she stumbled, as though dizzy. Nate didn’t care. They were all alone in the mist, and he knew that she needed a place to rest, so he could push back d’Homme’s deadly illness once again.

Hand in hand the sibling stumbled after the group, dodging around headstones in an effort to get to safety. Soon Nate noticed that the ground was broken up before the headstones, where the wights had pushed their way out of the earth. Something about this bothered him, but he couldn’t place exactly what just then. Together they struggled on.

The ground began to rise under their feet. We didn’t come downhill, Nate thought. An instant later he realized that they ought to have come across the others by now. Stopping, he turned to look back. The fog was just beginning to thin, and he could see through it barely. There was the wall, that was the gate, and there was the building beside the gate, where everyone had run for refuge, bypassing the vehicles. Nate saw why an instant later – the engines had all been torn apart. The doors of the sanctuary slammed shut, and not a moment too soon. The boy groaned aloud as he saw how far off course he’d taken them through the fog, and felt hopelessness sweep though his soul as he saw that it would be almost impossible for them to reach in now. The way to the building was blocked by wights, hundreds of them, all shambling after the survivors, bloodlust in their every movement.

Looking around, Nate took stock of where they were. He’d managed to direct them to the edge of the cemetery, and the woods stretched out before them. The trees were tall and menacing in the fog, moss hanging from their branches until they faded out of existence in the mist. The wights blocked the way downhill…it seemed suicide to go that way. But he’d been wrong before…where do I go?

It seems that their hopes were in vain, but the mystics are still alive…where do you direct them next? In an attempt to battle through wights fifty thick? Downhill to a very tall stone wall separating them from town? Or perhaps, through the woods, which should seem very familiar…
_________________

The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing ~ Edmund Burke


Sans Dieu Rien Without God, Nothing

Visions of Shadow - 2nd part of Uncertain Quests! Chapter Two

Dreamwalker - Relocated to Linear Lane Sixth Chapter

Linear Story Nightrobber Now Complete!
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PostPosted: Sat May 20, 2006 6:08 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Oh My, I think he should follow his instincts, anything to find some sort of safety. He may be able to defend his sister for a little while, but I don't think he could do it for long, and it doesn't seem as if she has much time before she becomes a whight herself.

So, I say that there has to be some way for Nate to tap into Kelsey's powers, They are siblings... :hm: Maybe he can do that and amplify his healing power once he finds a safe place to try it.

Now I'm all worried, I don't want anything to happen to either of them! :eek:

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PostPosted: Sat May 20, 2006 11:29 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Fantastic chapter DragonFire! A very gripping read Shocked

Okay, I think it's time for Nate to get in touch with his own powers. Kelsey isn't the mystic here - they both are. He only found out he could heal through chance. Who's to say what else he can do? I think he should go into the woods first and try to heal the wound again. Kelsey's obviously in bad shape.

Then, as Jess said, they should try to find a way to combine their powers to defeat the wights.

A strange thought... but I'm wondering whether wights can be defeated by the healing touch? Obviously they wouldn't have the power to do it en masse - and it would be dangerous - but if the worst comes to the worst, it might be worth a shot.
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