Fate Core Synthesis Draft

This is cross-posted from my other blog.


Working on the Sigils extra was like clearing a logjam: I was able to get a strong start on adapting Synthesis to Fate Core. I realize the common wisdom with creating Fate Core settings is "start with the skill list!", but in this case I felt starting from the other end was better. By working my way through the other Tribe 8 specific skills (Dreaming, Ritual, Sundering, Technosmithing) I'll have a much clearer vision of how to prune and shape the default skill list.
The direction I am going with Synthesis was something that the way Fate Core is written, and how various things are categorized, really brought into focus. The four actions provide a good framework for taming a freeform beast like Synthesis without having to delve into a lot of niggling little rules and modifiers. It helped me realize (for example) that bonuses for trances, extra time, ritual implements, etc. weren't a static thing but should be the result of the character doing something to create an advantage for themselves. The same thing will go for resisting effects; it's not automatic, the character needs to actually do something to get the bonus. Once again, Rob Donoghue's channeling "hack" helped tremendously in helping the rest of the pieces fall into place.
You can get the draft from Google Docs, and I will post regular updates as I tweak and refine it. 

Sins of the Sister, Part 5

Previously...
Sins of the Sister, Part 1
Sins of the Sister, Part 2
Sins of the Sister, Part 3
Sins of the Sister, Part 4


The path leading from Bazaar up the Great Hill was all that remained of an ancient roadway, long since broken up and overgrown. Only isolated patches of blacktop and a few large ancient buildings resisting collapse were reminders of the World Before. By the time we entered the woods surrounding the base of the hill the sun had burned through the morning fog and we could see the dome of Mortuary above the trees. The forest seemed peaceful, but Kileg scouted ahead and behind us for any danger.

"I have the sword that killed Nyeda," I said to Den'a, bringing my horse alongside the wagon. "I didn't know if it would be useful to you."

"It will." Her voice was soft and childlike.

I studied her for a moment. "You are very young for being in one of the Sisterhoods."

"Not all of us are old hags." She smiled, the barest upturn of her mouth.

"I did not mean offense. I thought Yagan arts need many years of study."

"For some, yes. For others,  it is more nature than study." Her eyes met mine. They were a peculiar dark blue, almost violet. "Just as I'm sure there are some who take better to killing than others."

"What are you going to do with the boy? Is he sick?"

"I will find the nature of his sin and purify him. You will have the truth about your murdered comrade and Joan will have justice."

"Purify? I thought only Marians could do that..."

"It's not polite to invoke a dead Fatima, Templar." Her eyes glittered. "Sin has deep roots, and mere absolution is not enough for true purity."

"So, why him? Why do you need me?"

"There is a lot I cannot tell you, Cara Gray'on. I am simply a servant of Baba Yaga and follow the instruction of my elders. As for you, the Grave Fields can be dangerous and I require a protector while I work. Guy Nostra'on did not seem happy with your actions yesterday. I believe he is punishing you."

I nodded and thanked her for her honesty. Kileg had returned and motioned for me to join him, so I excused myself and guided my horse to his. He told me the way was clear except for Joanite hunters tracking some Squats who had headed into the Hunting Paths. I related my conversation with Den'a and the dream I had the night before, confessing my concerns about the situation. Kileg was silent for a long while, his eyes constantly searching the edge of the path ahead as he considered what I had said. Finally he asked to see the sword, examining it closely while he guided his horse with his knees.

"I think this metal is from a fallen star," He said finally.

"The Falling Plagues? Why do you say that?"

"I have seen one other blade like this, and was told it had been forged from a fallen star. It was a Joshuan blade. I took it off of a Squat, who claimed another Squat had killed an old Joshuan Outrunner and stolen it. I didn't believe her, thought it was some old metal someone had banged into a sword shape, but when I returned to Vimary I was ordered to bring it to Joan's Tower and never saw it again."

"Who did you give it to?"

"Nostra Guy'on." Kileg lowered his voice. "These swords are rare. Not something a boy would find in a plowed field. You're right Cara, and this blade may hold part of the answer. Forgive me, but Nostra Guy'on is a snake. I'm not even sure he fought during the Liberation, as much as he runs away from it now. He'd let the Z'bri walk right into Joan's Tower if he thought it would make him look good."

I looked back at the wagon. Den'a was sitting with her face slightly upturned toward the dappled sunlight while the young girl was concentrating on driving the wagon. The two boys sat on either side of Robbo, who was sitting perfectly still staring into space. One of the boys was sharpening his knife while the second started at his feet.

"Please watch what you say." My voice was barely above a whisper. "You can't tell who or what might be listening, even here."

"Joan hardly speaks to anyone. She did to you for a reason. Just remember that." He handed the cloth bundle containing the sword back to me. I shook my head, in confusion more than disbelief. There were too many missing pieces, and the pieces I did have didn't make any sense. The Sin Eater, and whatever she was going to do, seemed like the only hope I had.

The crumbling dome at the top of the Great Hill loomed large ahead of us as we followed the meandering trail until it turned us toward the Grave Fields. Branches intertwined over our heads, the way ahead becoming a tunnel through the trees and underbrush. The familiar sounds of the forest, the clop of horses' hooves and clatter of wagon wheels became muted in the soft carpet of leaves. The girl driving the wagon hunkered down, gripping the reins tighter, and the boys jumped at every cracking branch or rustle in the brush. Kileg strung his bow and rested it on the saddle in front of him, muttering to himself as his eyes swept the way in front of us.

Near midday the tunnel began to widen until the trees, patches of blacktop and occasional crumbling wall or  rusted hulk of a metal chariot gave way to a rolling plain dotted with gnarled copses, broken stone slabs and small buildings. Columns and sculptures were scattered randomly about, leaning haphazardly or half-buried on their sides. The sky was a vast expanse of gray punctuated by the stark silhouettes of giant ravens wheeling overhead.

The lurching and jolting of the wagon on the rough ground threatened to throw the boys and Robbo from the back, so the girl was forced to stop. Den'a clambered down and proclaimed we would have to continue on foot. It was the first she had spoken since earlier in the morning.

"What about the horses?" Kileg asked.

"We'll need to leave one of those three behind. One that I trust," I replied. I motioned to the girl. "You'll need to stay with the horses. Tie these two to the wagon. If anything happens, take the wagon and the horses back to Mortuary and get word to the Watchtower." She nodded, trying her best to look brave. "We'll be back as soon as we're finished, I'm sure you will do fine. You two, get Robbo out of the wagon. Carefully."

We all walked a short distance then Den'a stopped just out of sight of the wagon. She produced a small bowl and some long strips of linen from a bag. "You do not want to attract unwanted attention," she said, placing the bowl on a nearby rock and mixing a small amount of thick paste. "If you would allow me, I will need to mark you."

Kileg hesitantly agreed and I nodded. She took a small amount of the paste on two fingers and smeared some on all of our foreheads and cheeks, even Robbo, then instructed for us to wrap the linen around our heads. It was muslin, much like her own covering, but like gauze. It could be seen and breathed through easily enough. She then marked herself and wrapped her own fabric around her head. We continued onward into the Grave Fields on foot with Den'a in the lead.

Descending into the Grave Fields we found ourselves in a labyrinth of mausoleums, crypts, stone, stunted trees and mist. Many of the entrances to the mausoleums and crypts were closed, either by rotting iron gates or more recent, crudely constructed barriers. The pitch black openings all descended into the earth. Pennants and skins hung from many of the crypts, and I saw many markings I recognized - Tribal symbols, family names, clan sigils - and some that were altogether foreign to me. The structures seemed much taller than when we emerged from the forest. I chanced a look back once and found a totally different landscape than the one we had traveled through moments before. Aside from the ravens, we saw no other living thing.

After a couple hours of following Den'a through the fields, picking our way carefully through the rock and brush, our group came upon a small hill dotted with sickly trees. A slightly worn trail led up to an opening near the crown of the hill, framed by three rough stone slabs decorated with brightly painted patterns and charcoal drawn symbols. Poles bearing dried human skins stood to either side of the entrance.

"Looks like the right place," Kileg said quietly.

"I will continue with Robbo from here," Den'a turned to face me. "I will need you to wait, but you cannot accompany me for the ritual."

"You can't be expected to handle him by yourself," I answered skeptically.

"I will not be, the boys will accompany me. They witnessed the incident, I need them as well."

"W-we didn't actually see..." one of them interjected.

"You have a part in this," she said. Her voice held an edge I had not heard before.

"And my part?" I asked.

"The ritual I must perform is very delicate, and I cannot be interrupted. I will need you to insure I am not. It is going to be dark soon, and I have preparations to make. I will call for you when I am ready." Den'a walked up the hill and disappeared inside the shadow of the entrance, carrying the sword and a number of bags she had brought with her in the wagon. A moment later a torch guttered to life just inside the entrance, throwing a dim glow against the walls. She disappeared down the passageway and did not return until it was almost dusk.

As Den'a exited the tomb Robbo began to mutter to himself, shaking his head back and forth and swaying on his feet. He had not made a sound the entire morning or afternoon. The linen over his face puffed in and out, sucked in against his mouth as he struggled to form words. I could not see the two boys' faces, but they gripped the poles attached to Robbo's collar so tightly their knuckles were white. Den'a walked up to Robbo, taking his hands into hers, and he immediately calmed down.. She tugged gently on his hands - he hesitated at first then began to follow her up the hill, the youths loosely holding the poles behind them.

Some instinct told me to draw me sword, and I did so with Kileg following suit. There the two of us stood, silently watching as darkness fell  across the vast necropolis of the Grave Fields.

Sins of the Sister, Part 4

I shouldn't have been surprised at the news Kileg was involved, given the dream, but I was. I found him in the courtyard with Den'a and the three young Joanites. Kileg was in hunter's leather and a wolf's pelt cloak, his unstrung bow in a scabbard on his back and a solid, wide blade at his belt. Den'a was covered in her shroud, and the Joanites had been outfitted as acolytes. There were also two saddled horses and a hitched wagon.

"I was not expecting you to be here. I dreamed about you last night."

"I hope it was a good one?" Kileg winked, grinning wide underneath his bushy beard as we grasped forearms in greeting. "Old Nostra came to me last night and asked I accompany you as far as the edge of Mortuary. Says nobody is supposed to know, not even you until this morning."  He glanced at Den'a. "This one says there will be no danger. Don't know about you, but there's more to this, so I think I'll stay with you until it's all over."

"I dreamed of No Man's Land, and Selia..."

"That definitely is not a good one. Any idea what it means?"

"I don't know...I'm hoping whatever it is we're doing will reveal it to us."

"Also, I'm also not sure where you go these three from." Kileg grimaced at the three youths. "I'm afraid they won't be much good in a fight, unless it's against ancient Squat women. Still might be too much for them."

I looked the three Joanites from the previous morning over. They each wore a smock bearing family and clan symbols over leather jerkins and had been given austere but serviceable short swords. The girl looked anxious and excited, but one of the boys was sullen. He had a fresh bruise over one eye and a cut on his face. I looked at Kileg, who shrugged nonchalantly.

"Keep an eye on that one, I think," Kileg said. "He was thinking he's the boss of the other two earlier, trying to stir something up."

I pointed to the girl. "You, I need to drive the wagon. The two of you will be with the prisoner. You don't take your eyes off him for a second, and the moment he so much as twitches wrong you yell at the top of your lungs and get out of the wagon. Nobody talks to him, taunts him, touches him." I looked at the second boy, motioning to the one with the bruises. "You, if that one gets mouthy, stab him. This is your chance for redemption in Joan's eyes. Do you understand?" All three of them nodded.

"It's just like the old days, no?" I said to Kileg.

"Not really," he replied gruffly. "Very curious how you got mixed up in all of this. Too bad about Nyeda..."

"When we're done with this, we definitely need to catch up." By that time, the jailer and guards had come up from the cells, bringing a shackled Robbo with them. He was in ill-fitting but fairly clean clothes, and had been scrubbed such that his skin looked a little raw. Bandages covered his hands and the worst of the cuts and burns on his face salved. He did not look up or make any noise as they got him into the wagon and chained his shackles to iron rings set in the wagon. The two boys clambered up after him. Kileg helped Den'a onto the bench next to the girl, who had taken the reins.

"Let's get this over with," I said as I swung into my saddle.

How to Destroy Angels - "How Long?"

The visuals in this video are very cool, and the entire album seems like it is going to fit a post-apocalyptic and possibly post-scarcity theme. I have a feeling when it comes out, a good dose of the tracks are going to go into my "Tribe 8" playlist (yes, I actually have a Tribe 8 playlist. Don't judge me).

Fate Core and Tribe 8

I've been doing a lot of thinking about various implementations I've tried for adapting Tribe 8 to Fate. My first was using Spirit of the Century as a starting point, but I ran into roadblocks I wasn't able to work around. I backed off for a while, until I discovered Strands of Fate. I thought, "Yes, this one is what I'm looking for!" and was able to bust through a lot of those roadblocks. The result, which I've made available here, is something that I stand behind. I think it's a damn fine adaptation and brings a lot to the table in terms of capturing the tone and feel of Tribe 8 (or, at least, how I interpret it).

I love the Fate fractal, I think it's one of the most elegant, simple concepts since the first war gamer decided to name a character. Anything can be a character. Anything can have Aspects. The different ideas I've had for stress tracks, most of which I've written up here in support of Strands of Flesh and Spirit, are pretty awesome. They're not things I would use all the time, but it's great the capability is there. But there's still a bit of...heaviness...about the conversion. There's a lot of Aspects, multiple stress tracks, powers modeled after the framework provided in Strands of Power. I want it to be leaner, and that's certainly something that Strands can handle, but this has never been about being beholden to one implementation of Fate or another. It's about trying to capture the ephemeral feeling I have about how Tribe 8 should be. I'm like a bear standing on a rock in the middle of the rapids, looking for exactly the right salmon to pluck out.

Fate Core has brought together such an energetic, creative group of people with great ideas. Hunter Gatherer Games has a great post on tribes for their Apocalithic setting. Michael Moceri has come up with some absolutely genius ideas for his Exalted hack. I want my Tribe 8 conversion to be leaner, lighter and capable of supporting the vision I have for my Tribe 8 games. Fate Core, from the settings I've read as part of the Kickstarter, gives me ideas to see that vision through. It doesn't mean I'm done with Strands of Fate - the end result will have elements of both. Plus, I still really want to create a Mekton-worthy Fate hack and I think Strands of Fate is the perfect fit for the job. I'm also very much looking forward to Nova Praxis. But I want to take a step back, toward the type of game I conceptualized when I first read Spirit of the Century. In some ways, that means my Tribe 8 adaptation is coming home again.

I'm not going to remove or change any of the things I've already done. The Strands of Fate version of Dreams of Flesh and Spirit is pretty complete, and anyone who has really liked it and found utility in it can continue to do so. It's just personally, I'm going to move on toward catching that perfect salmon.  

Sins of the Sister, Part 3

I fell feel asleep quickly and slipped into the River. I could have freely explored, but chose to stay confined within my own Dream world, flowing along with the River in the hope of gaining insight into the day's events.

I am standing over Robbo in Bazaar, pressing the tip of a sword to his chest. He begs for mercy, choking under the crushing weight of my boot against his throat. Filled with rage, a blackness rising up within me until I can no longer contain it, I pierce his chest with the blade in a gout of blood.

Suddenly I am looking skyward, a blade rising from my chest - the sword Robbo used to kill Nyeda. Shadowy figures fade in and out of view until one steps toward me, grasping the hilt of the sword and twisting, pushing the tip through me into the ground beneath. Tendrils of inky smoke snake their way down the blade into my mouth, silencing my scream as they fill my throat. Darkness clouds my vision until I can only hear the grinding of the blade into the hard-packed dirt.

Trey's boots scrape against the ground as two Blades drag him further into the center of the ruin. The building we had sought refuge in was relatively intact. We had shored up most of the gaps in the walls with debris and posted lookouts on the remainder. Someone even managed to get a fire going. In the pitch black outside the walls, I can hear scrabbling and the Serfs' foul language. 

Thwap. Thwap. Kileg's bow thrums with power, the Synthesis imbued arrows finding their marks even in total darkness. Something thrashes and moans piteously in the darkness. Kileg quickly squats back down, placing the bow across his thighs. 

"We can't stay here, you know," he says. 

I nod grimly. When some scouts had reported a Serf village a half day's journey or so inside No Man's Land, I quickly organized a raiding party to take care of it. It was a frequent enough event no one thought much of it; we would leave the Seven Fingers, find the village and raze it to the ground. If we did not, the Serfs would quickly multiply and spread like a disease. The village was easily located, but two Z'bri surprised us as we set about torching the buildings. Before we had a chance to respond, three of the raiding party were killed and two more wounded. 

One of the Beasts was a Koleris, who had fought savagely, pain fueling its rage even as I ran it through with my sword. Its death throes had sprayed burning ichor, reducing my shield to a smoking, melted ruin. The second Z'bri was a Melanis. It was an impossible-looking creature comprised entirely of constantly moving legs, bent in a hundred different angles. It had no visible head, only horrific, distorted faces that emerged and disappeared randomly from within its skin. Skittering in the shadows between the burning buildings, it somehow rallied the score or so surviving Serfs, who began to jerk and stumble toward us like Dahlian string puppets. The Z'bri then began using its Sundering to siphon our thoughts and memories, clouding our minds and sowing chaos in our ranks. Trey was the first to succumb, reduced to a slack-jawed drooling shell. Even now the Z'bri's Atmosphere scrapes against the inside of my skull and burns my throat with a putrid tang. When I spotted the ruin I quickly gave orders to retreat to it so we could regroup. 

"We need to slip out of the far side of this building," I say. "We break straight west, then south toward the Seven Fingers. When we're close enough, Kileg can loose a signal arrow and hope the lookouts see it and send out a war party." 

"It will find us," Selia whispers from her position near one of the openings in the wall. She is standing perfectly still, staring into the darkness. 

I take her face in my hands and gently kiss her on the lips. She is covered in blood and gore, but I don't care. Her eyes are wide, her pupils shrunk to dots despite the darkness. She needs me now, they all do. "We are going to get out this." 

Selia begins to shake, softly at first, her spine going rigid as the convulsions increase in strength. A terrible keening erupts from her throat and I hear the rasp of her sword leaving her scabbard. Kileg yells something behind me, but all I can do is look into her eyes, suddenly glazed over and unseeing, clouded by the influence of the Beast. I'm crying and shaking my head, even as I unsheathe my own sword. The inhuman sound trails off into a sputtering gurgle, and she looks down at the sword driven deep underneath her breastbone, her eyes wide and suddenly Selia again. I will never forget her look of betrayal and terror as she slumps into my arms. 

I'm in Bazaar again, holding Robbo's bloody sword. For the first time,  I notice the intricate glyphs on the crossguard and the blade's dull, flecked metal. In front of me stands the monster I faced when we escaped the ruins and the Z'bri attack. The bodies of my fallen comrades have been melted together into a patchwork of forms, lumbering along unevenly on legs and arms, multiple heads searching for its prey. But...the faces aren't right. Where there should be the faces of the Joanites who died that night in No Man's Land, instead are those of the three young Joanites, Nyeda's, the Sin Eater's and Selia's. All of them begin pleading with me, the cacophony growing until I can no longer take it and drive the blade deep into its fetid flesh...

With an audible whoomp I forced myself awake, sitting up in my pallet. I was drenched with sweat despite the pre-dawn chill. What does that night in No Man's Land have to do with Robbo? Or the Sin Eater? I thought. The sword! The sword was important in some way. Perhaps Den'a knew why.

It was not long before my initiate came with bread and porridge. After my meal, she helped me prepare for the day. I had no idea what to expect - where I was familiar with death, Mortuary was intimate with it. There was no telling what dangers might lurk within the enormous necropolis, hiding among its twisted paths and tangle of crypts, mausoleums, ruins and grave fields. I had him help me don my armor and weapons, pack provisions and a few other items, and descended from the Tower to make sure Robbo and the others were ready.

The air in the Tower's lower level was filled with the scent of cooking food. I said a few greetings but did not stop, heading past the bustle of the common areas and the clang of arms in the Arena to the stairs leading below. Robbo was the only prisoner in the small block of unused cells underneath the Tower. Most Tribal criminals wound up in the Red Gaol, where they stayed just long enough to be tried and judged, and Joanites almost never held prisoners of their own. This left the cells in the tower empty except for high profile prisoners, or unusual cases like Robbo.

Robbo was sitting in one corner of the cell, muttering to himself as he rocked back and forth with his knees to his chest. Around his neck was a wooden collar with two metal rings driven into either side. He was covered in filth, his hair matted and his clothes in shreds. Two poles with dull hooks leaned on the wall outside of the cell, just outside of reach from the bars.

"It was the only way could get him out of the cart." The jailer glared at Robbo as he brushed past me. The jailer was old and bent, one of his legs missing from the knee down. He limped around on a foot taken from some large doll that was found in a skytower near Bazaar. "He refused to get up or walk, and we were afraid to carry him with what happened to that Blade. So we slapped a collar on him and dragged him here."

"We're not going to be able to handle the poles and collar...I'm going to need him in wrist and ankle shackles. If there aren't already rings in the wagon to lock the shackles to, I'd suggest you set to putting them in."

The jailer nodded, grabbing one of the poles. Two burly guards entered from an adjacent room, and started to put shackles on Robbo. He was covered in more blood than I remembered, and had several serious burns on his face and hands. The jailer must have read the look on my face.

"The Inquisitor went easy on him. Couldn't get nothing anyway, not even from Truthsaying. Boy won't speak."

"I won't have him looking like a Squat. Clean him up, and bandage those burns. He needs new clothes, too. Make sure he's fed and see nothing more happens to him between now and when we leave." My own words surprised me. I had little doubt he was the one who had murdered Nyeda. But something gnawed at my thoughts, something that didn't add up, and I felt Robbo was the key.

"Will do. You'd better get upstairs, I heard Kileg was waiting for you. We'll take care of him."

Cara Gray'on (sample character)

Cara Gray'on is a Joanite Templar from a minor offshoot of the Uhan'on clan. She was a Blade for number of years, serving along the Seven Fingers. While leading a raid on a Serf settlement in the No Man's Land between Vimary and Hl'kar, Cara and her fellow Blades were attacked by Z'bri defending the village. Many of the Joanites died in the first few minutes of the battle, and the survivors sought refuge in a mostly collapsed ruin. Cara defeated a monstrosity made up of the corpses of her Joanite sisters in single combat and,  unlocking an unknown potential for powerful Synthesis, successfully drove back the Melanis Iv'chet leading the defenders. For her devotion and bravery, Joan made Cara a Templar on the spot - an unusual, but not unheard of, move on the Fatima's part. For Cara it was a bittersweet triumph, as her longtime companion Selia was killed in the battle.

Since becoming a Templar, Cara has joined the small number of voices speaking out against Judge Cylix Seth'on and the burgeoning Watch. She believes the creation of the Watch was misguided at best and a blatant power grab at worst. She sees what happened to her in Hl'kar as a symptom of a Nation that is becoming complacent and opening itself up to a large-scale incursion by the Z'bri. Her opposition to the Watch has made her a small number of influential allies in the Grand Council, but also attracted the attention of much more powerful political adversaries in the form of both Cylix Seth'on and Shaman Storm Cry. Of late Cara has noticed that Joanites Blades are disappearing in small numbers - not enough to raise suspicion that it is nothing other than the normal risks Blades take, but still enough to worry her. All of these factors are making it harder and harder for her to ignore her principles when she sees abuse by the Watch or remain silent while Joanite battle readiness deteriorates.

Character Aspects

• Templar of Joan
• Tribal
• Opposes the Watch
• Handpicked by Joan
• "The Z'bri cannot be ignored"
• Blames Herself For Selia's Death

Specialty Aspects

• Joanite (Strength)
• Devotion (Dream)
• Fury (Dream)
• Exceptionally Strong Dreamer (Willpower)
• Blade Blessed By Joan (Resources)
• Many Sisters Within the Blades (Resources)
• Blinded By Principles (Persuasion)

Abilities
Physical: Agility: 2; Endurance: 2; Perception: 2; Strength 3
Mental: Craft: 1; Knowledge: 2; Reasoning: 2; Willpower: 2
Social: Deception: 1; Empathy: 2; Persuasion: 2; Resources: 1
Affinity: Dream: 3

Advantages
Dreamer

Power Advantages:
Synthesis
Rotes:
Battle
Force

Interesting news

On January 1st, a new project from Lucien Soulban, Jean Carrieres and Ghislain Barbe will be announced. It's probably not Tribe 8-related, but I'm very intrigued as to what exactly it will be.

Sins of the Sister, Part 2

I had no sooner sent an initiate to bring some mulled wine, when Nostra Guy'on appeared in the doorway of my chamber. His Templar bodyguards were not with him, but I thought there was someone standing in the shadows outside the doorway. Dressed in a long, simple robe Nostra Guy'on looked more a tired old man than a Grand Councilor. He unarmed - not that he needed a weapon. His weapons were power and his armor subterfuge, and he used them with a deftness unmatched by any Dahlian or Magdalite.

"You know why I am here."

"The boy," I responded.

"He is secure here in the Tower?"

"Yes, he is in a cell awaiting an Inquisitor." My throat tightened around the word.

"And the others?"

"The girl was found and turned over to the Red Gaol, who will deal with her. The boys will attend to me, until such a time as Joan deems all of them fit for the Arena." I paused for a moment, carefully choosing my words. "Not to disrespect, Elder, but I don't think you came here to check on an imprisoned halfwit and a handful of derelicts."

Nostra worked his nearly toothless gums for a moment, his eyes dark and cold. "Your actions have placed us in a difficult position. Shaman Storm Cry was disrespected, gravely so, and you acted against his - and the Council's - authority."

"But Joan spoke through me. Her will..."

"Do not confuse Joan working through you with knowing Her will. Joan seldom speaks, much less through her Templars. It is not surprising you would be a little confused."

His words stung like a slap in the face. I knew what I had experienced, what Joan had said through me, and there was no mistake. "That cannot be. I felt her anger and her frustration. We have had so much taken from us...Vimary stands half-defended our fate has been placed in the hands of others? Joan is..."

"Enough!" Nostra snapped, then sighed deeply. "The Beasts' backs were broken when Joshua slew Tibor. That was nearly three generations ago, they are no more than shadows on the wall now. Darker forces are at work within the Nation, but you and the other crusaders fail to see it. You want to stand on a watchtower," he motioned skyward with his hands. "Ever vigilant for a threat that has long since been cowed by the Fatimas' power...even if it means the rest of the Tribes fall into degeneracy behind you. The Tribe of Joan must stand with all of the Tribes, for the purity of all of the Tribes. That is Joan's Will." He pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger, looking at me through hooded eyes. "That is why you will do as I say or I will throw you to the Beasts myself, since you seem to prefer their company to your own kind."

I silently nodded my capitulation. He gestured and the person outside the doorway stepped into the light. She was short and slender, covered completely in a burial shroud of black muslin. "This is Den'a. She is a Sin Eater."

I tried to speak, but the words stuck. The Yagan Sisterhoods were secretive, but the Sin Eaters made them look like an Evan gossip circle. Stories about Sin Eaters were the kind repeated only in hushed tones: they had transformed themselves into wights, struck pacts with the Z'bri, or were responsible for Zom attacks. I found myself suddenly wishing for the wine.

Den'a unwrapped the layers of fabric concealing her features and I was surprised to see a beautiful young woman instead of a wizened crone. Her face was round, the death mask tattoo contrasting with her bone white hair and pale skin. The tattoo was unlike any I had seen before, shifting subtly in the shadows cast by the firelight, coalescing into another visage...Nyeda. A chill ran through me. Mercifully she looked away slightly so I would not have to avert my own gaze.

"At dawn, you will accompany Den'a, the boy, and the three young Joanites to Mortuary. You will do exactly as Den'a asks of you. You will tell no one that you are going or of what transpires afterward, upon pain of Banishment or worse. This is the decree of the Grand Council and the Fatimas' will." He rose from the chair slowly and left without another word, Den'a following close behind. She glanced back at me before disappearing into the darkness, her eyes sympathetic.

I sat on the edge of my bed for a very long time, staring into the darkness beyond the doorway. The shadows moved, forming shapes the flowed into one another before they could become anything recognizable. I knew whatever awaited Robbo in Mortuary would change his life. Naively I failed to see it would change mine as well. With the weight of the day pressing down on me, I silently began my preparations for the next.

Sins of the Sister, Part 1

From the confession of Cara Gray'on:

It began with three members of the Watch - two boys and a girl - beating a boy in the street. Tensions between the Watch and the Templars had forced me to turn a blind eye to these sights more often than not, but this time I knew something was terribly wrong. Maybe it was because the figure on the ground just lay there, not crying out. Perhaps it was the expressions of the small crowd that had gathered, standing between the cobbled together merchant stalls or overhead on the bridges between the upper levels of the crumbling sky towers.

"What exactly is going on here?" I said, my voice echoing off the stone buildings around us.

Two of the them looked up at me, eyes widening when they saw I was a Templar, and clumsily stopped mid-blow or kick. The third was so focused on kicking the person on the ground, the girl had to grab his arm and pull him away.

"He...he killed a Joanite Blade..." The girl said in a quavering voice. She couldn't have seen more than 16 summers, barely old enough to raise a sword.

It was then I saw the Joanite laying face down just a few paces away, blood slowly seeping from underneath her body into the dirt. Her sword was sheathed and a bloodied blade rested on the ground nearby. I looked down at the crumpled form of her alleged attacker expecting to see a Squat or perhaps one of the Fallen. To my surprise I saw Robbo.

Robbo was a simpleton, the son of an Evan family living just outside of Bazaar. Evans put disfigured children to death, as was the custom of all of the Tribes, but sometimes it took a few summers for any problems to become obvious. Children able to work were spared. Robbo was one of those children, incredibly strong and hearty but unable to speak and only able to understand the simplest commands. Instead of an ox, his mother had him draw a wagon full of crops and other provisions to Bazaar so she could barter for other goods. His mother was harsh with him but not cruel, and Robbo always had a smile for everyone and everything. Many were uncomfortable around him despite his kind and gentle spirit. The few words he spoke were always prophecies of death and ill-fortune. Despite this, until that morning he had always seemed harmless.

"Who is this?" I asked, taking a step toward the Joanite lying on the ground. I know this armor, I thought. Please, don't let it be her.

"We...we do not know." The girl answered, lowering her eyes to avoid my gaze.

Of course she wouldn't know. Both of us were from the Tribe of Joan, but lived in different worlds. I stood tall in full armor adorned with medallions, prayer strips and inscribed sigils, a sword blessed by Joan herself at my side. The three children wore ill-fitting leather jerkins and bore weapons hardly suitable for training, much less common use. They had never faced Squat savages or fetid unholy monstrosities made of the corpses of their own brethren. Such things were little more than fables to them. Their enemies were thieves, miscreants, political opponents, undesirables.

I knelt down next to the woman and slowly turned her over. My stomach tightened as I brushed the hair from her face. Oh Nyeda, what could have happened? I thought. Last I heard she had been on the Seven Fingers planning a raid into No Man's Land. What business did she have in Bazaar? Clearly she was taken unawares. The blade had penetrated her plate and shattered and shattered the mail underneath. Robbo certainly had the strength to do this, but where he would have gotten a sword or even known how to use it? I placed two fingers to my lips and then to hers before standing.

"Did you see the boy do this?" I asked, my back still to the three of them.

"N...no..." the girl replied.

"We came when that merchant called for the Watch," one of the boys said, his voice more confident than hers. "He was kneeling beside her. The merchant said he had done it."

"Did he threaten you?"

"No, he was on the ground, sitting beside her..." I could hear the puzzlement in his voice.

"So you began beating a simpleton, on the word of another?"

"It...it is our duty as the Watch..."

Anger and grief washing over me, and I nearly lost control. The River of Dream responded to the rush of emotions, rippling the air around me like an invisible flame. All three of the youths stepped backward in fear. The youngest boy began to shake uncontrollably, a wet spot growing on his breeches.

"It is your duty to watch." I shook my head, trying to clear any rash thoughts before they became something more. "You three are but children...we may as well let Agnites keep the peace. Were you even intending to arrest him? Question him?  Or were you content with just killing him and denying Joan the right to justice?" None would meet my gaze. Robbo remained curled up on the ground, his arms wrapped tightly around his head, not making a sound. He was still breathing, at least for the moment.

The confrontation had attracted a larger audience and more attention. Two large Joanites pushed through the front ranks, followed closely by a rotund Evan man. He strode forward purposefully, a multitude of beaks and claws clattering against his raptor skull topped staff, a feathered cloak marking his station as Shaman of Eva. Shaman Storm Cry.

"Storm Cry," I said dryly, rising to my feet. He huffed from exertion and scowled at me, dabbing at his face with a finely woven cloth. Even with the morning chill, sweat glistened on his bald head. My disdain for him and his political maneuverings were extremely well known. He and the the Tera Sheban Judge Cylix Seth'on were turning the Watch into their own private army of thugs. An Evan, no matter how powerful, had no right meddling in the affairs of Joan.

"Please tell me you have not interfered with the Watch performing their duty, Cara Gray'on," He said. "What is going on here?"

"The only thing I interfered with was your breakfast, Shaman," I replied. He was a hand shorter than me, but outweighed me by at least ten stone. "I merely stopped these three from beating this boy to death."

He ignored the jibe and looked down at Robbo with obvious disgust. "What was his crime?"

"I see no crops or livestock here. His crime was against Joan, not Eva."

"This is a matter for the Watch," Storm Cry admonished me. His tone made the blood rush to my cheeks. "Now you," he pointed to the girl. "Tell me what happened."

"A merchant called out for the Watch. When...when we arrived we found this Joanite dead, and this boy next to her. There is a sword..."

"And then what happened?"

"They started beating him," I interjected.

"It is the Watch's duty to keep the peace. If they witnessed this boy strike down one of Joan's Chosen warriors..."

"We..we didn't..." The girl looked close to tears, glancing furtively between the two of us. Her resolve was beginning to crumble as the situation sunk in.

"None of them actually saw the attack take place," I said. "Nyeda Morth'on was a daughter of Joan. Judgement on her murderer shall be passed by Tera Sheba, and no other, as is Joan's right and Her will. I have more standing in this matter than you, Shaman. No Joanite will betray honor or oath by taking the Law into their own hands."

Storm Cry raised his voice, making sure all could hear him. "Her attacker could have been Fallen, and there may be more of them! The Watch must ensure the safety of everyone!" I made note of the two fully armed and armored Joanite warriors standing behind him. Luther'ons, both of them. The Luther'on clan was prominent and intensely steadfast in their allegiance to the Watch. Regardless they were still Joanites, and I was still their Templar.

I was about to respond when a woman, sobbing uncontrollably, freed herself from the crowd and ran toward us. I was sure it was Robbo's mother. One of the Luther'ons lunged forward, knocking her to the ground with the pommel of his sword and bringing the tip of the blade to the back of her neck. It must have been too much for the young girl, who screamed and fled down the street without looking back. The second Luther'on drew his sword and started to run after her. The crowd erupted into cries of panic and anger, and the situation looked as if it would spiral out of control.

I yelled "NO!" and mentally opened the floodgate to the River Dream. A torrent of Synthesis rippled down my arm, my sword leaping from its scabbard like a silver fish. The flat of the blade caught the first Luther'on square across the chest with a thunderous clap, throwing him back a good twenty paces. I thrust my other arm toward the second Joanite, palm outward. The warrior slammed into the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Everything and everyone froze, the only sound Robbo's mother softly sobbing. The boy remained perfectly still, but for the briefest moment I swore I saw Nyeda stir.

"How dare you strike my personal guard? Arrest her, NOW!" Storm Cry roared. Both Luther'ons remained on the ground, dazed. The two remaining Watch backed away from me, their eyes white with fear. Stymied, Storm Cry stammered, his voice shrill. "I...I..will have you Banished for this insolence! All of you!"

I returned my sword to its scabbard, feeling disconnected and distant after the release of Synthesis. Conflict rippled through the River, opening a conduit to Joan, and Her will rose within me. "The Daughters of Joan are not yours, Shaman Storm Cry. Your hubris has gone too far. You may be Eva's Chosen, but Cara Gray'on is my Arm and my Blade. I will strike down your lapdogs where they stand should they be dishonored."  My mouth formed the words, but Joan's voice echoed off the buildings.

"You will regret this." His voice trembled, defiant even in the face of Joan's voice. "You do not know..."

"ENOUGH! Your business is done here." The sun broke through the clouds, creating swirling wings of shadow around me that lengthened to darken Storm Cry's face. "The boy will return to the Watchtower, and you will go back to Sanctuary until Tera Sheba has words with Eva about this." Without another word Storm Cry walked away, shoving his way through the crowd. His Fatima had not come to his aid; Eva obviously had deferred to Joan in the matter. Joan left me as soon as she had come, and it was all I could do to keep from falling to my knees.

"Thank you, Templar," Robbo's mother choked out between sobs. She was kneeling on the ground near Robbo, her head down. A tiny drop of blood blossomed on her neck where the blade's point had touched it. I felt sorrow for her, but no remorse for what I needed to do.

"Return to your village," I said quietly. "Robbo's fate is in Tera Sheba's hands now."

She looked up at me, her mouth twisted in a wordless cry of anguish as she shook her head, then buried her face in her hands. I motioned to two Evans standing at the front of the crowd, who gently helped her up and led  her away. The crowd had already begun to disperse, murmuring about what they had just witnessed. By nightfall word would spread throughout all of Vimary, if not further.

"You," I said, motioning to the boys and the Luther'ons. "Find a cart, so we can get Nyeda and this boy back to Joan's Tower."

Vimary Zones and Locations

Finally, I completed my write-up of various zones and locations from Vimary. More accurately, I decided to not include Distance stress tracks for the locations. My intention is still to use them, but they a) were a pain to write up and b) I'm actually thinking they shouldn't be set in stone. It's probably a lot better to set Distance stress tracks depending on the journey, time of year, and other circumstances so that they can be varied for each trip (or ignored completely if need be). Anyway, without further ado you can grab the document below. An updated Vimary zone map will soon follow.

Vimary Zones and Locations

Took a little break

Between vacation, end of summer type stuff, computer issues, work, kids going back to school, etc. I haven't had as much time to update things. I am still working on details of the Vimary zone map. Plus, I have some original short fiction that I'm working on that will get posted at some point.

In the meantime, here's a pretty awesome gallery of post-apocalyptic images. Below is one of my favorite pictures out of the dozen that are up.

Juniper's Journals: Final Entry

Entry 23

There are a few things in life that strike me as strange or amazing. After all, the world we live in is fraught with perilous and wonderful effects. However, nothing came as strangely to me as the events which unfolded over the past few days. Listen closely to my words, for I fear that they will be the last you may hear. Much has changed and there is nothing you or I can do to make things as they were. Maybe that's where we went wrong in the first place. Rather than taking the challenges that confronted us with the hopes of attaining something new, we struggled to recreate that thing we could never have. The solace of belonging to an established order or a set of traditions, to have a home to awaken to and family to guide our mistakes. We are on a new road now, one that I fear may lead us to our ultimate demise. But you know what they say. . . "Blood and Sacrifice."

The River Dreamers met us at the river's edge, their boats ready to transport us to Bazaar. Our plan was to contact Daryck in the hopes that he would shed some light on what was to come. We also had to tell him that there was a face behind the Clinic and its evil. A face that belonged to Cylix Seth'on!

The trip was uneventful and we maintained a certain silence. We were free of the dangers from the Yagan Flesher Assassin, at least for a little while. The manner in which she was dispatched still held me with awe, but I was more curious to learn of Raven than fear him, as I sensed the others did. By the time we reached the Sunken City, it was very dark and the city was shadowed under the moonless night.

There were more River Dreamers with us on this journey, than before. People we hadn't met. There was a tall, gangly fellow and a shorter stalky one as well. We didn't chat much, but they seemed nice enough. They offered us assistance in our duties, but as usual, we declined their offer. We parted ways: us on a secret visit with a member of the Watch, and them, on an innocent task of gathering supplies and trade goods. We didn't know it then, but we wouldn't be parted for long.

We reached the fountain that was near the entrance to the underground tunnels. We had traveled it so many times before and foolishly felt comfortable in our wanderings. It is always unwise to expect things to be as they were when you were last there. If Dahlia left us with one lesson, it should have been that change is always occurring when you least expect it.

The hall was dark and we hadn't brought with us any torches. Cinder made use of her Eminence of Shadow to consolidate the black ink into pools, leaving a faded light in its absence. Unfortunately, her Synthesis was weak and as the darkness regrouped and overlapped onto itself, we were left without any means with which to see. It was the opportune time for the beast to strike.

We heard it first, a slight hissing noise, followed by a dull clicking sound. We backed against each other, creating a defended circle. There was a deep resonating sound in my head as my blood ran at the pace of melting ice on a hot summers day. My breath was rasping in my throat and true fear grasped me with its unflinching hold. My knuckles turned white as I tightened my grip around my staff. Then, a flash as Cinder created an illusional flare that pervaded the hall.

I saw a glimpse of it as the light reflected off of its eyes. It was long and lithe., like a weasel or ferret. Except it was larger than a man and had a cunning look about it. One that held intelligence.

" The illusion won't last, I can feel it waning," said Cinder.

" Let's get out of here, we are at a loss in the darkness!"

" No, we have to go on..."

" We don't have a choice, we are ill prepared. Let's turn back."

" I hear it. Cinder! Bring back the light!"

I heard a rush as it struck at the air. Mana managed to glance her sword in the arc of its attack, deflecting a blow that was meant to sever life and limb. The River of Dream exploded in a flurry of activity as we all drew upon desperate means to save our lives. Chaos ensued as we stumbled in the darkness, undecided as to which direction led to safety and which direction led to our deaths.

There was a scream and Chigger was torn from my arms before I could secure my grip. Cinder cried out for her sister and ran off into the depths of the tunnel. Mana grabbed me and pulled me in the other direction. Bastion took a hold of my loose arm and we escaped from the beast that stalked us. Except now, we were short another member of our cell.

Cinder came back to us after Bastion retrieved her, a torch lighting his way. We sat in silence in the Emporium, trying not to think of what the beast was doing to our lost companion. Cinder was quiet.

" What should we do?"

" There is nothing we can do. It is at an advantage in the darkness. We can't find it now. We have to leave."

" We can't just leave. We have to try. . ."

" We've risked ourselves before trying to rescue others of our group. Where has it gotten us? Remember what Mek said. . ."

" We went back for you, didn't we?"

" You put me there!"

" What are you guys doing here?"

It was Meg and the River Dreamers.

" Nothing, we're fine."

" Where's Chigger? Are you okay, Cinder?"

What were we to do. I felt that Eshlazi was toying with us again. He had likely sent a chained to gather and kidnap us again, so he could place new tethers upon us. What if the River Dreamers began to suspect our dealings. We would be as good as dead.

" She's gone. We're okay."

" What do you mean she's gone? Where did she go?"

" We encountered something in the tunnels. It took her."

" Well we have to get her back. Time's running out. Let's go, what are you guys waiting for. . .she's one of your own!"

" We can't. . .take you with us. There are things you would be better not to know. We'll go, but we go alone. I can't say anything more than that. She's my sister, and we'll do what needs to be done. Thank you..."

Silence.

" Let us go. We have done what we can. There are unseen and mysterious things taking place here. Let us go."

They left and I blamed myself. They should have helped us. We were more willing to accommodate a son of a Jo'Han than those with a more noble purpose. They would never trust us as they did. We had made a grave error at that moment in not accepting their offer to help save Chigger. An error I was destined to rectify.

The voice that spoke to Cinder was enticing. It told us where her sister was in the endless catacombs. We were guided right to her. Whoever it was that spoke to Cinder never showed themselves, but I had my suspicions. Were we going to walk blindly into a debt to further the evil that stalked us? We were playing a grand and dangerous game in which we were the pieces and the foul demons the players. My rope was wearing thin. I wasn't going to use it to tie my own noose.

Chigger was in good health. The beast apparently let her go after trapping her in its lair. She made up some wild stories about how she used flames to scare it away and how she chased it down a tight hole leading from its feeding grounds. The lies were steep and covered in half-truths and self delusion. I pitied her.

We went to a small merchants booth, as it was early morning, and managed to bribe some food and drink from his stall. The meeting wasn't going to take place and with Chigger safe and partially sound, it was time for some rest. As we sat and discussed certain matters, I questioned Cinder about the voice that guided her towards helping us find her sister.

" It's still with us."

" It helped save her. That's good enough."

" It's not. We are toying with something that's beyond our control. When will we be self reliant? When will we be able to function without it?"

" It saved me, whatever it was. You better not forget that."

" Saved you from a situation it placed you in."

" But saved me none the less. We should reconsider seeing if it will help us. . ."

" No! Never!"

" Listen to yourself, Juniper! You're scared of what it may do, that it may permanently harm you. But we saw things. It wants to help and it may be the only thing we have that can stop the evil that's taking place in the Tribes. Crimes against our people and our freedom. We may be making the biggest mistake at presuming it will help us at little cost to ourselves, but what else do we have? What else can we lose before it's too late?"

" Everything! Our souls, our lives, our minds, our freedom, everything! You want to take all of your chances and throw them away to some creature that cares little if you live or die. You would turn away the only friends we have in the hopes of covering up some scheme that involves the beast we hate, and with good reason to do so. There are so many ways for us to resolve our difficulties but, an alliance with the minion of the seed. . .that is something I cannot do"

" Face it, you can't believe that it loved Bastion. . ."

" That's another issue entirely . . ."

" No, it's not. You hate Bastion. Look at yourself. It's in your eyes, even as you say you don't. You hated him from the day you found out and you hate him still. He will never be forgiven in your eyes, even if you say you do. He is guilty for what he is, just as you think Eshlazi is to be punished for what he cannot change. Look at us. People persecute us for what we are, yet we know we are different than what they perceive. We aren't evil, Juniper. We're real, with feelings and hopes and mistakes and. . ."

" Aren't we. . .evil, that is? We who discuss making terms with the devil. I'll hear not another word. If you risk your soul, you do it on your own."

I rose from my chair and waited to see who would stand with me. Mana rose from her chair and I looked at her.

Silence.

" Fine! Fuck off, Juniper! Fuck off, all of you! You're all cowards and unworthy of leading us out of the hell we call home. Get out, I don't want to see your faces anymore. Get out!"

Mana and I left for the last time. I'll never forget the look of anger on Chigger's face that day. Poor child.

Juniper's Journals: Reconciliation

Entry 21

Cinder returned without Bastion and I was half expecting that he had left to rejoin his evil beast of a father. Unfortunately that wasn't the case. She said he was sorry he had dragged all of us through the horrors Eshlazi had to offer, but that he was willing to help us avoid any further manipulations from the Jo'Han because he loved Cinder and Cinder loved us. I didn't like it. It was too easy. He couldn't expect that we would just forgive him after everything he did. Besides, he was a Z'Bri sympathizer! Past loyalties aside, now knowing that he was actually, for the majority of his life, under the influence of such a creature had massive repercussions. Despite the odds stacked against him, Cinder defended him. So did Chigger. They said that in their experience before, he had sacrificed himself to save us and that he never told anyone what he had planned. I said if he was really sorry for what he had done to us, he would do it again to prove that it was true. Cinder said she wouldn't let him die. She had seen it once and didn't want to see it again. She trusted in her vision and refused to have Bastion carry out the ritual necessary for him to take the Spear. We argued for a long time.

I was really hoping for Mana to back me up, but she maintained her silence. I could have really used her then. I miss her voice. Anyway, I finally came up with an idea. I told Cinder to go get Bastion, and if he swore on his love for her that he would never do anything to betray us and to use his role as Eshlazi's son to get Slash back, then I would accept him, but with one condition. He was never to make any mistakes or actions against us. If he did, I would do everything in my power to destroy him and whatever he stood for. I mean, he wasn't even a true member of our cell. He didn't have the tattoo of our symbol and never took part in any of the rituals that made us a single unit. He was basically just Cinder's slimy, backstabbing boyfriend!

Cinder half agreed with my bargain, but she said she felt like she was betraying his trust and their relationship. I said I didn't give a shit, and if he wasn't willing or ready to give up his loyalties to his father then he was as good as dead. Cinder went to go get him from the main level of the Shelter.

While she was gone, Chigger asked me if I would really forgive him or not. I told her that she was the one who had the vision. All of this was completely shocking for me and Mana. I never actually experienced any of what she said. I never went with them to the Hive, Eshlazi wasn't dead, Bastion wasn't dead, Chigger never became a man and had her real body die, and the Squats never attacked the island! The girls never even went anywhere, so how could they have lived so many fanatastic things in almost no time at all? She couldn't expect me to instantly understand. I didn't even know if I would forgive Bastion, whether he decided to agree with my bargain or not. I just didn't know!

Cinder came in with him shortly after and it took all of my will to keep from jumping at him in a screaming torrent of rage. I was so pent up with anger I felt I would explode. Bastion said all of the typical things I would think a traitor would say. Stuff like , "I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt any of you," and, " I'll do whatever it takes to gain your trust," and, " I'll protect you from Eshlazi as long as you give me a chance!" That sort of hogwash.

He said he promised that Eshlazi would leave us alone as long as we promised that Cinder wouldn't use the Spear. He said as long as Eshlazi knows that we have the means to destroy him, he wouldn't be a threat. Bastion also stated he would force Eshlazi to let Slash go or we could attack the Hive with whatever we wanted. Inside I knew they were false promises. There was no way Bastion was going to let Cinder die in trying to kill his father. He was getting the easy way out. By threatening his father with our weapon, he was saving both Cinder and Eshlazi, and getting the trust of my friends. We started arguing over the proposition Bastion put forth.

I was saying that the Yagan Assassin was going to kill any one of us because we stole the Spear from them and murdered a bunch of them in trying to get it. If we didn't use it, we were going to die anyway. Also, Chigger pointed out that Eshlazi had done evil things and was going to continue to do evil things unless we stopped him. I agreed with her remarks but she went one step further. She said if we could threaten Eshlazi with the Spear, then we may be able to alleviate our Yagan problem with his help! I was appalled. Chigger was suggesting that we make a loose alliance with Eshlazi based on blackmail! I yelled out my opposition to her suggestion. It was bad enough that we were letting a Z'Bri raised child live, but allying ourselves with a Z'Bri itself seemed ridiculous, Yagan Assassin threat or not! Of course Bastion spoke in her support. I knew it. He was still loyal to the beast.

Bastion started speaking about how Eshlazi was trying to learn how to love. He said Eshlazi didn't understand how some death was good and deserved while others were considered murder. He went on and explained that the Z'Bri lacked an understanding about what made some sex pure and joyful, while other times, the same actions were considered perverse and immoral. He capped off by suggesting that of all of the Z'Bri, they mainly didn't care to uncover why we drew boundaries about these things, but Eshlazi did. Eshlazi wanted to learn to love and understand what made us human!

Bastion said a long time ago, Eshlazi was learning to take care of kittens. That he was attempting to understand how to nurture instead of kill. How to have emotions for a creature that weren't twisted and resulted in the creature's death or basic ill health. Bastion said Eshlazi was learning with kittens in order to transfer his knowledge to humans when he felt it was ready. Chigger clicked two and two together and realized that Tulka, the Joanite she had become in her visions, was the Templar who was trying to save Eshlazi!

The thought seemed ridiculous to me. Could a Z'Bri be saved? Could the beasts overcome their basic nature? Did Eshlazi want to become like the Nomads of Legend? Were we stupid to even think such a thing, and if so were we even more foolish to consider attempting it?

I sure thought so, but some of the others didn't. Chigger seemed all for the idea. Mana was indifferent,while Bastion, well that's obvious. Cinder seemed hesitant to agree. She suggested the risk to us was far too great. Not only for the sake of our souls, but also because of the threat from those who may find out. Hell, even thinking such a thing was grounds for death.

I left the room. I needed some air, and I wasn't certain if I wanted to hear anymore. I wish it was never brought up. Why couldn't Cinder just love someone else? Why couldn't I just walk away? I went downstairs by myself and cried.

Juniper's Journals: The Assassin's Assassin

Entry 22

Chigger came down to see how I was doing. She came up behind me and said she was sorry.

" I just don't want to keep anymore secrets, that's all." she said.

" How could you think such a thing? Eshlazi is everything that we hate and now you're talking about becoming its friend?! I don't want to do that . . . we could be killed for even thinking such a thing."

" I know, but we know what's right. We have to do what we feel is going to work and this is our one chance . . ."

" I don't want to talk about it. Let's see if Mari-Anne can lend some truth to your vision. Maybe then I'll know what you mean."

We left the common room of the Shelter and went to see if Mari-Anne was available. She joined us in the room Chigger was staying in. I didn't look at Bastion. . .I couldn't.

Mari-Anne was surprised that we knew so much information about events from before we were born. She seemed shocked and I almost thought she wasn't going to tell us anything, but she did. She didn't often speak about times before her banishment and I could tell she was uncomfortable with our questions.

" What you have said is true. Monika did have a father named Tulka and he loved her more than life itself. Unfortunately he made some powerful enemies and was banished shortly after the vote went through to stop any further Crusades. A lot of people blamed him that he was the cause of it all. His enemies, members of the Grand Council, accused him of being in league with the Z'Bri. I myself became disheartened that such a bold and honored warrior could be condemned by his own people. It was a factor that pushed me towards leaving as well. His daughter was taken in by a man named Cylix Seth'on. I never saw her after that. Something I still regret, as I cared for her as my own.

As far as Tulka's wife is concerned, she was said to have disappeared a few years after hearing of her husband's banishment. She learned that he was sacrificed in the Circle of the Chosen. What happened to her is a mystery. Some said she fled to the Outlands. Only the goddess can say for sure.

"So the Crusades ended. The last one was seven years before the final vote that you witnessed and was nearing its completion. I believe it was the Year of the Eagle. I miss those days. Days when the Watch stood for something besides the persecution of the Fallen and the condemnation of their fellow people. They started out as protectors, but now they're just wardens to a prison called Vimary!"

We listened for quite some time as Mari-Anne continued her tale. It made Chigger and Cinders' vision real. They actually did experience some things that happened, but why them? Only time would tell.

After Mari-Anne left we decided we needed to get rid of the Yagan Assassin problem. We didn't know how we were going to do that, but we had a fairly good idea of where to start.

On the way to Mek's one of the Dorks approached us and Chigger told him everything! Why would she do such a stupid thing? She told him all about the Mortuary Massacre and that if he or any of the other Dorks saw someone strange approach us, they were to make lots of noise and warn us. Sounded lame to me, but Chigger's got a big mouth anyhow. Why not just tell the whole world that we have a price on our heads? What an idiot!

When we got to Mek's training halls, he told us a little bit more about the past. He said Tulka almost single handedly removed any hopes of another Crusade. He said Tulka was a Z'Bri sympathizer and so no one was willing to support a cause that was leading to our strongest warriors being tainted. Mek didn't speak well of him. He did say that there were some who were opposing the Old Guard and were fighting to give new life to the Crusades. He seemed quite interested in the current events and I almost thought he was thinking of joining the Joanites if they did manage to start it all up again! I suppose he needed to fight, it was in his blood. We also asked him about what we could do about the Yagan Assassin. Mek looked at us seriously as he continued to sharpen a set of new blades. "You guys have a Yagan Assassin after you? Why? Were you the ones behind the Mortuary Massacre?" he let out a chuckle.

" Yes!" we replied.

He looked at us with a sad expression. " You're in big trouble. Yagan Assassins are a difficult lot to deal with. The only thing I can say is, keep it hush! Don't tell anyone and don't sleep. . . for the rest of your lives!"

Okay, we were in BIG trouble. Mek had no real advice. Oh shit . . . the Dorks! Chigger told those little blabber mouths and now all of Hom probably knew. We had to stop them. We ran to Junks.

* * *

When we got there, the whole room looked at us. I saw the Dorks and they came up to us. They said they warned everyone to help us out! Great! We went outside and told them to go hide and keep it a secret. As we watched them leave, a rough voice greeted us from behind." I hear you have an Assassin problem!"

" No, it's just a joke . . . you know Agnites and Dahlians, we're always joking! Hah! Hah!"

" Too bad, I heard about you guys killing a bunch Yagans at Mortuary. I like your style . . . if it were true. I could use people like you. If you promise to help me and my cell out, I could take care of your impending deaths!" he gave us a cracked smile.

" Sorry if we don't trust you, but we've been betrayed in the past. Who are you?"

" I'm Raven. If you let us take care of this for you, you help me later on. You've got nothing to lose, you're dead already."

"Okay!" we said.

" First, get rid of the kids."

We called the Dorks out of their hiding spots and gave them some crappy pretend assignment. We said we needed them to keep an eye out at the docks on the east side of Hom. They left.

" Hrmmph, I would have just killed them." Raven said as he walked away.

We all looked at each other in disbelief. Was he serious?

* * *

We were on our way back to Junks after picking up our things at the Shelter. We were going to meet the River Dreamers who had offered to give us a ride to Bazaar in their boats. That's when it happened.All of our torches went out and a shadow descended upon us with the swiftness of the wind.

Mana managed to deflect the initial blow and as the Assassin flipped to reset herself, a flurry of crossbow bolts came from a nearby alleyway. The Assassin stopped mid-flight and fell to the ground with a thud. A man with a long moustache stepped nonchalantly from the darkness and was reloading his repeater crossbow. Raven entered the street as well. " Good work, Mick!" he said. " Remember, now you owe us a favor." They walked away and we stood there with our mouths hanging open!

Juniper's Journals: A Lesson in History: Part 2

Entry 20

Revelations

Cinder was running way to fast and Bastion, Mana and I were having trouble keeping up. She was sitting there, in the Bin, all pretty and stuff when suddenly she propped up and screamed, " Chigger's in danger!"

Then she went racing off into the setting sun! What was she thinking?

Nonetheless, we chased after her as best we could and finally reached our destination. Cinder blew open the front door and yelled out, "Chigger!", then went racing up the stairs towards the chamber where Chigger was healing from her wolf bite. Cinder got there first and I managed to catch my breath, even as I struggled up the stairs.

" Cinder, what is going on?" I asked.

" Someone's trying to kill Chigger . . . a Yagan Assassin!" she replied.

" It's true, I saw her, but this time I escaped her poison because I knew what was going to happen!" said Chigger.

I sat down to regain my composure and Cinder stood up and said, " Where is Mana and Bastion?"

She left the room quickly and headed down the stairs.

" Chigger, what's this all about . . . do you and Cinder have a weird sister connection?" I asked.

" Err, it's kinda complicated. I'll wait for Cinder to get back." she said.

Bastion came into the room and Mana accompanied Cinder shortly after. The girls were carrying a jug of water which I happily drank from. Bastion looked at Cinder and said, " Okay, you got us all worked up, now what was the commotion all about?"

Cinder said, " You may not believe this, but Chigger and I know a lot of what is or was going to happen . . .actually, we lived it already!"

" There's a Yagan Assassin who wants to kill me because of what we did at Mortuary. Actually, she did kill me and I became someone else and we even went back in time and you died Bastion and we figured out a lot of things." said Chigger.

" We also know about what you're planning to do and why you never took the ritual to cleanse yourself from Eshlazi. We know your . . ."Cinder was cut off by Bastion.

" Wait, I don't know what you two are talking about, but could we not do this here Cinder?"

" We're a group and I'm not keeping anymore secrets. I know what you are. . ."

" Please Cinder, not here. Could we discuss this in private . . .for me?"

Cinder agreed and her and Bastion left the room while Chigger told the rest of us what happened except for one thing. . . something to do with Bastion's banishment!

" Okay, you guys may not believe me, and I know I've had some pretty tall tales and outright lies in the past, but now I'm serious and Cinder can back me up. Hell, I'm sure even Mari-Anne can back me up so just listen and try to understand!" We leant her our ears and only interrupted a couple of times to clarify some points but here's the story as Chigger described it.

Chigger's Story

" ...so after you ran to go get help to put out the fires and repel the Squat attack, Cinder, Mana and I all ran down into the heat of the battle. It was intense. We were chopping up Squats by the dozens until finally it seemed the wave of attackers was overcoming us. That's when we saw you coming down the hill towards us. Well, at least we thought it was you, but it was actually someone else. The Fallen all around us were fighting bravely and of course I was a huge, strong Joanite Warrior. . .a Templar actually! Except, now everyone around us changed. They were all Joanite Blades instead of being Fallen. The Squats were still Squats, but some Blades on cavalry called out to me and said, 'Karvy'on, come join our flank so we can squash these soulless bastards to their deaths' or something like that, so Cinder and I went towards them. There were a few Dahlians among us, but Mana was nowhere to be seen. One of the Blade cavalrymen looked at Cinder and said, 'Shalla, it is a good sign that you are with us. We cannot lose this battle now!'."

We joined their flank and, well, to make a long story short, we defeated the Squats with minimal losses. We regrouped and I found out that I was a Templar named Tulka Karvy'on. The importance of the clan name didn't hit me till later. Cinder was a woman named Shalla and it seemed she was somehow revered by the Dahlians that were with us. Even the Joanites looked at her with a sense of respect."

So there we were, riding back through Hom. The Fallen that must have been around were hiding in their hovels and broken buildings. Yes, the place appeared a little less organized than the way we know it now. Later on we discovered that we were about fifteen years in the past! A year before I was born!"

I'm getting ahead of myself though. We returned to the land area just east of Sanctuary and I was expecting to be split up from Cinder, or should I say Shalla! But instead, I was apparently staying with the Caravan of the Beautiful Severance, our parents' caravan! My duty was to travel as guide and protector and also to keep in line with a judge among them named Sakai.

When we arrived at the caravan, they put on a great show and feast in honor of our success in the battle. The rest of the Joanites had left for Bazaar, save for two of my guards. It was great . . .I had lackeys."

The strangest thing was, the man who joined us in the battle, the one that we thought was you, and who sat with us at dinner was named Dane. Yes Juniper, your father! Your mom was alive as well and she was beautiful and happy. They were planning on having you at the time and that's how we knew what year it was. My parents were there as well. Of course I wasn't born yet. Cindra, my sis, was there too. She must have been about three summers old."

I was very confused and I played up our disguises and had a discussion with Shalla, a.k.a. Cinder. It must have been weird for her to see herself as a child. She made sure to get in a few snide remarks to our mother, Francine. Our mom was such a cow. Still is I guess. I finally saw how mean she was to the young Cindra. What a bitch. Anyway, Shalla always made sure she exposed my mom's rudeness, although she did it in a very tactful way."

I returned to my tent after the feast and guess who was there. My daughter, Monika. Monika Karvy'on! The bitch captain who was at this time only six summers old. I couldn't believe it. Here was my opportunity to set everything right. I could kill her in her youth and none of her evil Clinic garbage was going to happen. As I contemplated the possibilities, a familiar voice greeted me. It was Mari-Anne Melina! She was my child's caretaker! She told me that Monika was awaiting my return and was so excited to see me, but had fallen asleep because of the late hour. She also let me know that the little girl that I wanted to hate held me in the greatest of regards.

Mari-Anne was younger of course, and I spoke to her to try to figure out who I was and what I was all about. It turned out I was an important member of the Templars who was trying to oppose a new faction of Joanites and TeraShebans who wanted to stop the crusades all together! I was also married to a Crusader named Mirabella."

Turns out she was on a Crusade at that very moment and wasn't set to return till the end of the year. Lucky for me I guess. What would I, Chigger, have done with a wife. Well, I could guess but..."

Anyway, I needed to speak to Cinder, I mean Shalla, as fast as possible. I snuck out after everyone had retired for the night and worked my way to her wagon. She was waiting up, I guess half expecting for me to arrive. We discussed the reality of the whole thing and wondered if what we did was going to affect the future or if we were just in it for the ride. We also discussed whether we should kill Monika or not, but decided that murdering a child was bad for the soul. Besides, it just felt wrong."

During the feast earlier, there was a storyteller in the caravan that seemed to hold a lot of importance. His name was Janus, and Shalla and I both had the impression that he knew something was up. So we went to his wagon."

He was still awake when we got there and invited us in. We asked him what was going on and how come we were chosen to witness the events of the past. Yea, it seems weird that we were so forthcoming about who we actually were, but let me just say, that Janus wasn't an ordinary person. I have my hunches and Cinder does as well, but maybe, just maybe it was actually Dahlia! I don't think we'll ever know for sure, but he did tell us some interesting things. He said we had the possibility of learning many things because of who we were. We should use our intelligence and insight to help us in the future, and that many things would be revealed. Now that was the understatement of the century!"

That night, I couldn't go to sleep. I was pondering the weight of what was happening. I know, me pondering anything seems like a paradox. Nothing seemed to make any sense."

So, as I lay there awake I had a visitor. It was a white haired man with a tall frame and gaunt features. I remember he had really long fingers. He entered the tent and seemed to have had previous meetings with Tulka, so I played along. You'll never guess who it was. It was Eshlazi in a human form! He said he had made sure my wife was safe. He also said he was running out of kittens! He then pulled one from the folds of his cloth and was gently petting it. He said he was trying to nurture them but they often died under his care, although he was getting 'better'. I was so confused. He said he would maintain my wife's safety as long as I continued to aid him. He left and I sat there with even more questions."

Why was a Templar Crusader helping a Z'Bri. Eshlazi at that! I had first hand witnessed the evil that he represented and for some reason this Joanite, who I now was, was helping him. I had a very restless night."

The next day, we saw the caravan moving towards Bazaar. I was discussing some matters with Judge Sakai and he stated that an Elder Council meeting was going to take place in Bazaar to determine the future of the Crusades. He asked us to join him in his visit to the Council Building. On the trip, I spent some time with my daughter. She was cute, and I couldn't help but care for her. She had such trust in her eyes. Where did she go wrong?"

I also told Shalla about my meeting with Eshlazi and we speculated the repercussions of it. There were various reasons why he would have been helping Eshlazi, and we concluded that Eshalzi probably had Tulka's wife hostage."

When we arrived in Bazaar, we left with Judge Sakai for the Elder Council Building and witnessed the vote that made the future we live in the place it is. We saw speeches from several prominent Tribals and their viewpoints mainly said the same thing ; that the Crusades were a dying force that needed to be abolished. The reasons were varied and generally self justifying. At least that's how Judge Sakai described it. He was one of the few who spoke against dismantling the Crusades."

The major players who acted against it were an old Joanite Guardsman named Nostra Guy'on, a TeraSheba judge named Cylix Seth'on and another Joanite named Yasmin Luther'on. Judge Sakai said that Yasmin wanted to secure herself a seat of power among the soon to be institutionalized Watch. Now the Watch existed back then as well, but not as prevalent or influenced by TeraSheba as it is now."

We watched the proceedings until the vote was finally cast among the Elder Council. It was all in favor for the abolishment of the Crusades. After the vote, I was invited to meet with Cylix Seth'on and he offered me a position among the high seats of the Watch Wardens as long as I agreed to help take power away from the Templars. I answered in typical Chigger fashion. I decked him! He hit the ground faster than a Dahlian thief could pick a pocket, and even as I was dragged away to a cell I was cursing him and telling him that sooner or later, he was going to hell . . .by my hands!"

Well, my sis got me out of jail with a little bit of Illusion, and we hightailed it outta there before anyone caught on. We were racing to meet up with the caravan when we were suddenly attacked. Four Koleris warriors came at us from the darkness of the streets and dismounted us from our horses. Shalla, my sister, was cleaved in two and I was just barely holding off the Horde Warrior that assaulted me. Then came our salvation!"

Eshlazi struck down the Koleris that were going to devour Shalla's body, and then used some kind of Sundering ability on my adversary. He called him Sk'Ksul. The Koleris said one of these days he would destroy Eshlazi, and fled into the night. Eshlazi then used his Sundering and fixed Shalla and said he would be our salvation. . . if we would be his. He then grew a pair of wings and flew up to the towers above."

Shalla and I raced back to the caravan and we warned the others that there were Z'Bri about. The hunters took up their posts and we went to meet up with the families among the caravan. The last people we spoke with were Emron and his wife Celeste. Shalla gave Celeste her broach and said that one day, in the future, she was to give it to Cindra. I guess that triggered the journey to resort to its natural order and I found myself by the pond just outside the Shelter, almost about to shoved into the Yagan Assassin behind me. I looked at her and ran. I had avoided my death."

* * *

So, that's the story as Chigger told it. It seems far fetched and very strange, but whatever happened to the sisters, it held some truth. Whether it was a dream or a vision or an illusion granted by Dahlia is unimportant. What is important is that Bastion is the traitor among us and that he has a lot to answer for. At this point, I wouldn't mind seeing him dead! Everything that happened to us is his fault. Cinder was right in accusing him after Slash was captured.

Not only that, but now we know who is behind the Clinic. Cylix Seth'on!

Juniper's Journals: A Lesson in History: Part 1

Entry 19

We returned to Hom and, I of course was extremely confused about the current state of affairs. The whole thing didn't make any sense. We had defeated Eshlazi, or so I thought, and as to what exactly happened to Bastion, well the last I saw of him was that he and the Z'Bri were sucked into some kind of vortex! Chigger was unconscious and being carried by the Joanite, which is where things get way beyond me; but I'll try my best to tell you what I pieced together from Chigger's account and what I saw.

During the time when we were confronting the Z'Bri, Chigger was drawing on her eminence of Vengeance to protect herself from the evil Atmosphere. The faces of hundreds of people were drawn from the River of Dream itself and were watching over her and focusing her energy. Now, we all know that Chigger was poisoned by a Yagan Flesher assassin just before our foray into the Hive. This is where Dahlia apparently stepped in to completely change the whole order of existence. Chigger (or her soul or mind or whatever) was given the option of leaving her poisoned and dying body to transplant herself into a different, long dead shell of someone else. . . someone who's face was present and a part of her eminence at that very moment.

Chigger being Chigger, she decided that the life of a stumpy, loudmouthed, crazy-haired, oddly tattooed, banished Dahlian trickster of fourteen summer's age was passe. So, she opted for the massive, hulking, imposing and did I mention intimidating body of a Joanite . . . with the markings of a Templar at that! Don't ask me, I have no idea how it happened, or why, or even where to begin to figure it all out, all that I know is that for some mysterious reason, Dahlia wanted or still has some plan for Chigger. That's what I think anyway. I mean, why else would She save Chigger?

So, we took Chigger's 'original' body back to the Bin and waited for her to die.

It was very strange. Watching Chigger take her last breath. I mean that was it. She inhaled deeply and never exhaled. Her small, silent frame lay serene and quiet upon the table. But, then again . . . she wasn't really dead was she? She was still alive and breathing and walking and talking and making stupid smart-ass remarks, even as we carried her dead body to the Sepulcher. It was so surreal. Worse, Chigger was now a man!

Veruka had us say our last goodbyes and as we gathered around the old Chigger that I knew so well, and loved and hated all at the same time, I saw on Cinder's cloak a small glowing broach. It had the swirled symbol of Dahlia, inset with a white gem. I didn't take special notice it, but I recall seeing it before. Around the time the girls returned from the Secret Rendezvous location on their scouting journey to be exact. Where did she get it, and why was it glowing like that? I dismissed the distracting thought from my mind, gave Chigger a kiss on the forehead and departed the Sepulcher. Chigger the Joanite Templar was the last to say goodbye to Chigger the Dahlian Jacker.

Chigger came out awhile later and was crying. I guess it would be strange to see yourself dead. It would put a lot of things into perspective. Cinder took her sibling into her arms and embraced 'him' with unconditional love . . .the kind that comes from within. I knew there was going to be quite the adjustment period ahead. One that I didn't think I was going to welcome very easily.

Awhile later, we ran across Meg and Danelle from the River Dreamers. We never told them that the Joanite with us was actually Chigger. Meg was really sad over the news that Bastion had perished in the Hive. Her and Cinder held onto one another for quite some time and we intended to meet up with them later at Junks, to reminisce and help get over all of the changes.

Our intentions never panned out.

On the way to the Shelter we smelled smoke in the air. It was coming from the east side of Hom and large dark clouds could be seen from our vantage. It wasn't far from the Shelter, so we ran as fast as we could towards it. The sight that greeted us was shocking. Squats were attacking Hom and setting buildings on fire with complete disregard for the effects it would have. Already the raging flames were spreading from building to building and the Fallen were too busy fighting the raiders to concentrate on putting out the fire.

Cinder screamed at me over the cacophony of the battle to run to Junks and get some help. Her and Chigger and Mana raced to a nearby well in the hopes of dousing some of the flames. I spun about and ran as fast as the wind. I tossed my cape to the side in order to keep myself from being hindered. When I arrived at Junks the word had already arrived and many people were preparing themselves for the upcoming fight. Seeing that I was unnecessary, I yelled out the current conditions and raced back towards the Shelter and the full scale melee!

Juniper's Journals: Changes

Entry 18

The water reflected the night sky and the torches from the sunken buildings that surrounded us. Danelle and another River Dreamer named Shien were navigating the boat which held Mana and myself. Meg was commanding the boat with Cinder, Chigger, and Bastion as passengers. It was strange. After all we had done to come to this place, it somehow felt hollow.

Chigger had a deadly poison in her that we could do nothing to remedy. Cinder was likely going to perish in the use of the Spear that would destroy Eshlazi. Mana was mute, and yet seemed more natural now, with the hope of battle and the confrontation of evil. Bastion was shunned by those who should have protected him, his cell, and then there was me, Juniper, the misunderstood and overlooked idealist, risking his life out of some childhood loyalty to the very people who were likely going to die and take him with them. Yep, that's us.

The River Dreamers sensed an oddness about us, but we never told them our true purpose for needing to get to Bazaar with such short notice. They had helped us out several times now, no questions asked. We would, if we survived, definitely need to make it up to them. It was good to have friends like them.

My mind came back to reality as they carefully worked the boats through the hidden and unseen paths of the sunken city, all of us caught in a prayer like silence. After we docked, Meg asked us if we needed their help. Shien came up to her and simply shook his head. It was like he knew. We parted their company and I saw Bastion give Meg a kiss on the forehead. It was a parting gift to her, as though Bastion had resigned himself to whatever fate held.

But would I expect less from him? He loved Cinder and deep within me I knew, if she did not live through the ordeal, neither would Bastion. We placed our arms with the tattoos of the Cell's symbol in a circle, looking to it for strength. Only Bastion was lacking the markings, but he watched in silence as we mentally prepared ourselves. We then walked slowly towards the towering Skyrealm we called the Hive. It was a giant shadow against the night sky. It was our nightmares and fears. It was the one thing that kept us together.

As we started our ascent through the lower levels of the Hive, a tight tug in the gut of my stomach set in. Somewhere within this horrid place, our friend and companion, Slash, was trapped within. Were we going to join her or liberate her? Was it worth it? Was she even the same person? What of the Spear and its power? Was it going to aid us or hinder us in the final confrontation? These questions and more crossed my mind, but it was too late to have regrets. Whatever was going to happen was already decided. The moment we made the choice to come here, from the very first time, we were destined to arrive at this point, but somehow it felt wrong. Very wrong. I didn't voice my feelings, but I felt as though we had done something that had sent our paths on a spiral that we couldn't recover from. We were out of control . . . out of everyone's control. I pinpointed the feeling within my gut and understood it for what it was . . . chaos!

After several stories of climbing broken sets of stairs in perpetual darkness, we heard footfalls above us. We came to a door that was slightly open and gave way to a large area cluttered with debris. Cinder sucked all the light out of the area, transforming the entrance into an inky black void. Bastion and Mana placed themselves at the threshold, peering around the corner of the room. We saw half a dozen freaks, standing inside. They were unarmed and didn't notice us. We stormed them before they could set themselves a defense, and they fell within a matter of moments. Mana slashed at their flesh with large arcing slashes of her sword and killed three of them herself. I struggled with my opponent, until Chigger helped me finish him off. She had already dispatched her own victim. Bastion claimed the life of his adversary with a quick series of strikes with his hands and feet. He really knew how to strike a persons vital centers. Cinder aided us where she could, but it was important that she remain untouched until we met with our true opponent, the Jo'han Eshlazi.

We glanced around, scanning the room for others and checking to make sure our opponents were dead. We managed to escape without a scratch.

Before we could discuss our situation, the whole building began to shake. The very walls themselves were rippling and dust fell generously from the ceiling. We braced ourselves and made a circle with Bastion in the center. We watched in horror as the walls changed their appearance and the air became thick and misty. Instead of standing in a room of dead freaks and garbage, we were in an odd shaped chamber with walls made of a fleshy, cartilage like substance. The ceiling was made of a thin, stretched membrane that pulsed with the flow of fluids rushing through veined lines and arteries. I supposed we were in some sort of lung or organ made from the sick and perverted mind of Eshlazi. I covered my mouth, not wanting to breathe the taint that lingered in the air.

As we let the reality of our new surroundings sink in, a bulbous, boil or wart rose from the floor across from us. Within it was the fetal form of Slash, completely naked but seemingly uninjured and in good health. She was breathing a pink, translucent fluid. We stepped towards her, but at our first movements we heard the sweet voice of Eshlazi whisper in the air.

" I knew you would return . . . my kittens!"

" Show yourself."

" You couldn't resist!"

Cinder raised her arms and struck with the force of The River of Dream at its substance. How could she still channel eminence in such a tainted environment? She did it with all of the strength one would expect after hours of meditation! The fibrous ceiling tore down its center, dripping a red, puss-like rain upon us.

" Coward . . . show yourself!" yelled Bastion.

Chigger was striking at the air, performing a series of symbols that spelled Eshlazi's death. I found myself standing near to her. After all, this was maybe the last time we would ever spend together. Bastion's voice lingered in the air as another boil rose from the ground. Within was a twisted and deformed creature made of the bodies of three individuals, joined together in a perverse fashion. The boil popped, and the creature stood tall before us, razor sharp claws releasing from hidden folds of the skin of one of its arms. Its eyes, one in the base of its neck and another near two navels opened and focused upon us. Before I could act, Mana was upon it, slashing and carving with her sword. Cinder focused her dream essence upon it and released Puppet Show. The creature started to attack itself, each one of the three bodies hating the other. Chigger fell upon the beast as well, and I watched as Mana and Chigger were soon covered in blood and guts.

Cinder stood calmly in the middle of the room, and called for Eshlazi to show itself . . . It did.

The floor and ceiling and walls began to pull tendons and muscle and bone from their substance. The form of Eshlazi soon loomed before us, standing about nine feet tall and filled with a sickly sweet longing. For the first time, it was before us, face to face and in the flesh. If I wasn't filled with dread before, I was now!

" I was waiting for you. I am glad you have returned." said Eshlazi.

" Returned to see you die." said Cinder.

" But I have so much to show you. My kittens."

" You will meet your end here this night. You are a wicked creature. We want nothing of you or your kind."

" Ah, but among you the seed always lay. Even now, he stands among you. Let me show you."

Bastion

We saw a young child with the markings of a Magdalite. He was being scolded because he was not willing to partake in the lessons of pleasure and love.

" No. I don't want to. I'm afraid. You can't make me."

" You will learn, or you will be punished. What will the Sisterhood say?"

" No!" He bursts pass the older Magdalite and runs wildly away, only to be caught soon after.

" You will see what happens to undisciplined children who don't understand the way of the Lover!"

He is led into a group of teens, all disrobed in a candlelit room. They call to the young child.

" No! I'm afraid!" The child pushes the older lady, and she stumbles, crashing against the wall. Her body tenses and then relaxes as the blood pours forth from the hole in her chest, the candelabra clenched tightly within her fist.

The child lies, broken and scarred under a set of stairs, the markings of a Fallen scarred in his skin. A set of long arms lifts him from his sleep and carries his small body away from the cold floor.

It whispers softly into his ear, " You need not be afraid anymore, my kitten."

* * *

Cinder was right.

By the time I realized what was going on, Mana was trapped against the wall, her body held in place by a multitude of hands. Chigger was drawing upon her eminences, and the faces of hundreds of people surrounded us. The faces of those killed or tainted by the Z'Bri; Tribesmen Ancestors, the Fallen, and those lost to time. Cinder and Bastion were walking hand in hand towards Eshlazi, Bastion's eyes red with tears. No! What was happening. She had to resist it, but I couldn't move to help her. I was frozen to the spot.

Bastion placed his hand into the open hand of Eshlazi. He then reached for Cinder, and placed his free hand around her head, love in his eyes. I heard him whisper, " I did it for you, my love," and passionately kissed her. The Spear came flying out of Cinder's body and was sucked into Bastions. He pushed Cinder to the floor and embraced the Jo'han. " Father, I'm home!"

The bodies of Bastion and the Z'Bri Eshlazi began to meld. Bastions arms pierced into its chest and Eshalazi's chest opened up, his ribs and bones pulling Bastion within. Pure Dream opened up a crack in reality and an envelope of power glowed with an alternating orange and green hue. A sound, louder than the greatest thunderclap, struck the air and lifted our bodies like we were Agnite ragdolls. The walls began to bleed and I saw Mana rush to Slash who lay helpless on the floor. Another person stood near to me and picked the dying form of Chigger off of the floor. She looked unconscious. He was big and was marked as a Joanite. He looked like one of the faces brought about from Chigger's eminence. Cinder ran toward me and helped me, as I helped her. We ran.

We found ourselves outside of the Hive, the top tainted levels collapsed and gone from the death of the Z'Bri that gave it power. The Joanite placed Chigger gently on the floor and Mana did the same for Slash. I looked at Cinder who was staring up at the Skyrealm in a dazed fashion. Wait a second . . . who was the Joanite!

" Who are you?" I asked wearily, my staff at the ready.

" Your worst nightmare!" said the Joanite with a smile.

I yelled for Mana and she supported me, her bloody sword at the ready.

" I felt Dahlia. She gave me a choice. She was within me and allowed me to change. I can still feel her . . . is it me or her who speaks?! Is it me or him?" He looked at the silent and sick body of Chigger lying on the broken ground. " I sure am small aren't I!"