10-05-2009, 07:55 AM
Darkness falls across the land...
The midnight hour is close at hand.
Creatures crawl in search of blood...
To terrorize your neighborhood.
"Dad? Dad?" Winter called, stepping into her father's study, finding the elder Schaedel looking over some scrolls on the center table. At her
approach, he looked up, setting them aside.
"What is it, Winter?" he asked, adjusting his glasses. "Is someone here?"
"No, that's not it....there's something weird going on outside," Winter said, frowning. "I'm not sure what."
Alistair considered that for a moment before following her. Though they did not practice the eugenics that had created the near invincible magical ability that
the original Mu civilization had laid claim to, Alistair and more than a few mages connected with both the Midnighter's Club and the Eleventh Hour were
aware of the diluted version of the bloodline that provided a large source of the world's innately powerful mages. While neither he nor his wife were
exceptionally close to the original stream, Winter had inherited both of their connections and was inherently more sensitive than them both. If she was sensing
something...
As they stepped out onto the balcony of the Founder's Falls townhouse that Alistair had chosen as their new home, Alistair noticed the instant they stepped
outside the house's protective wards and barriers. Like his daughter, his gaze was drawn almost immediately to the west, where a roiling black set of
clouds were present, not yet visible to the naked eye. But to a mage's sight, the unnatural storm was as clear as a beacon. No weather pattern had produced
the creeping darkness that was heading this way.
"So," Alistair nodded. "They're almost here."
"They?" Winter asked, confused. "Who's 'they' this time?"
"Forces of the supernatural from all over. Not just those we fight already, but others. I'd read of this, but never seen it before."
Alistair settled forward onto the balcony's railing, watching the cloud intently. "A spell of that magnitude requires an immense level of power to
maintain....they can only manage it when the veil is thin....Paragon is a focus of eldritch energies in part due to Oranbega being beneath our feet, but even
then, there are no ley lines or massive cauldrons of power that could maintain that indefinitely....but All Hallows Eve is different. The veil will become
increasingly weak as the various terrors gain their strength and reach out. The Thorns and their demons. The Pantheon's blind followers and rotting Mot
bound beneath Astoria. Others. They all feel the veil weakening and strive to take advantage. It is not an inherently evil thing, and you might notice your own
powers are mildly stronger, but between the nexus and the various groups grabbing for the upwelling of power, the walls will begin to crack....and things will
slip through. Already, you've seen one such plague that has yet to be fully exterminated that was caused by this," he said.
Winter nodded. "The ghoul hordes," she said, eyeing the moon, barely visible as the sun began to set.
"Yes. The "zombies" will begin to appear in greater frequency the closer we get to the date, and they are merely one symptom...but something
else is coming. Something old....something cruel," Alistair said, looking at the cloud. "The spell will be anchored by those that fear the sun. The
Unseelie and their gibbering festivities. The Covens and the Courts of witches and vampires. The beastmen and others. And this time, there is a purpose to it
all. Something that wants to anchor that blackness here permanently. It is reaching out to them...seducing them with lies of rewards and power in return for
their services....and when darkness falls, it will unleash them in an attempt to birth itself into our world."
"What is it?" Winter asked, frowning. Her father could make the driest spell lessons interesting through rhetoric and storytelling, but this felt
like more than a lesson being embellished to fight her boredom.
"That is the problem," Alistair said, frowning. "I don't know. Whatever this thing is, it is powerful and unnamed. It is unfettered by an
identity by which it can be constrained...which allows it to be anything it wishes to be to oppose us. The eternal night sweeping in on Paragon is going to do
more than give the supernatural forces here a bolstering to their power like it has before. It's being used this time...and if it's not stopped, it may
never end." He grimaced, before pulling his coat from a rack as they stepped into the town house again. "Call your mother, tell her to contact
Mercedes and let the Midnighters know, if they don't already. I'll contact the Hour and their associates. We're going to need as many people to
stand against this thing that is coming. Before it consumes us all," he said, as Winter shivered despite her usual indifference to the cold.
***
Just a little period piece, given the upcoming Deadly Apocalypse Halloween event that's coming in a week or so.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."
The midnight hour is close at hand.
Creatures crawl in search of blood...
To terrorize your neighborhood.
"Dad? Dad?" Winter called, stepping into her father's study, finding the elder Schaedel looking over some scrolls on the center table. At her
approach, he looked up, setting them aside.
"What is it, Winter?" he asked, adjusting his glasses. "Is someone here?"
"No, that's not it....there's something weird going on outside," Winter said, frowning. "I'm not sure what."
Alistair considered that for a moment before following her. Though they did not practice the eugenics that had created the near invincible magical ability that
the original Mu civilization had laid claim to, Alistair and more than a few mages connected with both the Midnighter's Club and the Eleventh Hour were
aware of the diluted version of the bloodline that provided a large source of the world's innately powerful mages. While neither he nor his wife were
exceptionally close to the original stream, Winter had inherited both of their connections and was inherently more sensitive than them both. If she was sensing
something...
As they stepped out onto the balcony of the Founder's Falls townhouse that Alistair had chosen as their new home, Alistair noticed the instant they stepped
outside the house's protective wards and barriers. Like his daughter, his gaze was drawn almost immediately to the west, where a roiling black set of
clouds were present, not yet visible to the naked eye. But to a mage's sight, the unnatural storm was as clear as a beacon. No weather pattern had produced
the creeping darkness that was heading this way.
"So," Alistair nodded. "They're almost here."
"They?" Winter asked, confused. "Who's 'they' this time?"
"Forces of the supernatural from all over. Not just those we fight already, but others. I'd read of this, but never seen it before."
Alistair settled forward onto the balcony's railing, watching the cloud intently. "A spell of that magnitude requires an immense level of power to
maintain....they can only manage it when the veil is thin....Paragon is a focus of eldritch energies in part due to Oranbega being beneath our feet, but even
then, there are no ley lines or massive cauldrons of power that could maintain that indefinitely....but All Hallows Eve is different. The veil will become
increasingly weak as the various terrors gain their strength and reach out. The Thorns and their demons. The Pantheon's blind followers and rotting Mot
bound beneath Astoria. Others. They all feel the veil weakening and strive to take advantage. It is not an inherently evil thing, and you might notice your own
powers are mildly stronger, but between the nexus and the various groups grabbing for the upwelling of power, the walls will begin to crack....and things will
slip through. Already, you've seen one such plague that has yet to be fully exterminated that was caused by this," he said.
Winter nodded. "The ghoul hordes," she said, eyeing the moon, barely visible as the sun began to set.
"Yes. The "zombies" will begin to appear in greater frequency the closer we get to the date, and they are merely one symptom...but something
else is coming. Something old....something cruel," Alistair said, looking at the cloud. "The spell will be anchored by those that fear the sun. The
Unseelie and their gibbering festivities. The Covens and the Courts of witches and vampires. The beastmen and others. And this time, there is a purpose to it
all. Something that wants to anchor that blackness here permanently. It is reaching out to them...seducing them with lies of rewards and power in return for
their services....and when darkness falls, it will unleash them in an attempt to birth itself into our world."
"What is it?" Winter asked, frowning. Her father could make the driest spell lessons interesting through rhetoric and storytelling, but this felt
like more than a lesson being embellished to fight her boredom.
"That is the problem," Alistair said, frowning. "I don't know. Whatever this thing is, it is powerful and unnamed. It is unfettered by an
identity by which it can be constrained...which allows it to be anything it wishes to be to oppose us. The eternal night sweeping in on Paragon is going to do
more than give the supernatural forces here a bolstering to their power like it has before. It's being used this time...and if it's not stopped, it may
never end." He grimaced, before pulling his coat from a rack as they stepped into the town house again. "Call your mother, tell her to contact
Mercedes and let the Midnighters know, if they don't already. I'll contact the Hour and their associates. We're going to need as many people to
stand against this thing that is coming. Before it consumes us all," he said, as Winter shivered despite her usual indifference to the cold.
***
Just a little period piece, given the upcoming Deadly Apocalypse Halloween event that's coming in a week or so.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."