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Crossin this here Jordan: A Coalition Soldier Quest

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I'm starting to think I've got seasonal moods or something. Whatever the case, I've got something in the works and will hopefully have it posted tomorrow evening. Still not forgotten.
 
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The Siege of Monterrey 1.8
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    • Time passed.

    Within the depths of spirit, she was illuminated.

    Her spirit was sharp, and mighty, flickering between colors faster than could be perceived. Piercing her spirit was a cruel gray siphon. Muting her spirit was a hazy black shroud.

    She studied the cruel gray and gained insight. Doom.

    She studied the hazy black and gained insight. Exhaustion.

    Their names were known, now.

    They aided one another, orchestrating the demise of her radiance, carrying out their author's intent, the specter in her mind's eye that shadowed her even now.

    She bent her mind to this aim, to understand them.

    The cruel gray drew her attention first, the more powerful and cunning of the malign forces assailing her.

    Doom was a specialist assassin; its reach was long, spanning far beyond the hazy black's remit, beyond her spirit and into the many crests and folds of the real.

    Everywhere it reached, Doom skewed probability, manifesting itself as malfortune and lucklessness, subverting her own strength of spirit.

    Hypnotic, swirling spirals of entropy lanced out from the cruel gray, forming great spires that spanned gaps between causal chains not delineated by mere physical proximity, outlined in their terrible arrayment against the backdrop of her diminishing radiance.

    Days had passed since the initial infection, days she could ill-afford.

    The hazy black sounded its dread siren call, an oppressive force that sought to smother, to weigh down, to make weary.

    Exhaustion was predictable, its frequency stable and clear - it was an echo of the abyssal horn that nearly drowned her in Monterrey, lingering like morning frost.

    Exhaustion formed clear channels for Doom, accommodating in its enmity for her.

    Exhaustion was evil.

    It hated her radiant spirit, her might and beauty, her willfulness.

    Constricting her spirit, debilitating her strength, dimming her light; the end was nearing.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

    Deep breaths soothed her frantic heart's unsteady impulses, her shaking hands fumbling for the harness above; she was conscious with all the abruptness of someone startled out of a nightmare. The phantom sensation of icy needles punctured her heart, even though chill did not bite her anymore. Shrugging off the fire blanket, didn't need it, she fired off an EM pulse, finding her armaments in the lockers above her resting place, and additional supplies that somebody had had the wherewithal to gather up for her. Wound sealants, stimulants, MREs, iodine tablets, she noted. Garlic and iodine were especially useful for preventing radiation damage and heavy metal poisoning.

    She felt horrible and filthy. The events of days prior had finally caught up with her. It felt like she was treading water at the lip of the metaphorical lake. There was not a part of her body that was not sore, and her head wasn't in the best of places. She didn't want to think, it exacerbated the ache.

    If she were making conversation with someone, she'd say she couldn't remember a time before this bone-deep exhaustion, but that actually wasn't true, she remembered plenty of times, pretty much all the time in fact. Just seemed like something someone would say in this situation.

    Kicking her legs out to propel herself to her feet was, in hindsight, perhaps not the move. Visual acuity hampered. Spiking dizziness and vertigo. Black spots filled her unfocused sight.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

    When she could perceive the world again without face checking herself, she looked to see if any had witnessed her awakening. Her reputation would have to be buried alongside her mental filter if that were the case.

    Fortunately, the majority of the men were present, themselves asleep, either sitting upright with their heads bowed forward or against the harness behind them or curled up awkwardly in what little space wasn't occupied by the severely wounded. She noted with a frown that she'd taken up more space than any except for the wounded.

    Stretching out her senses, she became aware of a conversation going on in the pilot's compartment. Setting herself aright Telekinetically as she should have done before, she moved as a wraith through the air, listening to the men speaking. Daberman and Reynauld. Curious.

    "-ourselves lucky not to run into any demons, Rey. Seen them before. In places you wouldn't expect." His voice was distant, woolgathering. "They've been watching humanity for a long time, I think. Learning. Mimicking."

    "How long you reckon, man?" She'd only ever heard Reynauld speak a few times before, and he was far more subdued now, almost whispering in his low timbre.

    "Ages," Daberman replied. "As long as there've been people. Maybe longer."

    "You ever wondered where they come from? There's gotta be more to it than dams and flows, right? What if we created them? Or maybe, maybe they just always been 'round. You know what I mean?" He gave a laugh, ugly and sinister. "It just seems crazy arbitrary, the modern era."

    "Just a little bit," Daberman agreed. "I do have an idea, though." At Reynauld's prompting, he continued. "We're on the skin, Rey. The skin of a hypersphere, the 3rd​ dimension. They're from the flesh of the fruit, deeper within. The forms they take here, it ain't them, not for true. They're shadows, projections. Some are unique. Others are like, like templates, or archetypes almost. I don't know. I'm still tryin to make sense of it. What I saw." He spoke hesitantly, as if convincing himself, before fading off.

    "Well, what changed? Why now, compared to all the rest of history? If there was, what, Dante's levels of Hell filled with demon folks just waitin to come around, why now? Seems awfully convenient."

    "I don't know. But something tells me they aren't new. They used to call angels the Watchers." He paused. "And the Babylonians had demon kings. Maybe the Blue Zones will go away naturally, and it'll be difficult for these things to come back through again, like before."

    "With our luck, not gonna happen. If I were a betting man, I'd say these things are here to stay. Still, are you implying angels are like, demons, too? How many levels of heresy is that?

    "A few, or maybe none if we take scripture into account. But in the Book of Enoch, there was this whole group of angels that came to Earth and taught humanity things, things we either weren't meant to know, or weren't ready to know. Even things like cosmetics and abortion. And these sons of God, they took human mates and created Nephilim, the giants. They became fallen angels. I don't remember the specifics, but maybe there's somethin to it all. And the angels, they had different forms, too, like burnin wheels with eyes, or chariots of fire. Maybe they're all Watchers of a kind, or different kinds."

    "That's pretty wild, dude. Not saying I believe any of that, but it's interesting," came his response. "Maybe they just like the weather here, who knows. Nobody's got the answers." He shrugged, pensive. "You mentioned they popped in places you wouldn't expect,"' he continued. "They're here, aren't they?"

    "They're everywhere," Daberman confirmed. "They were here before we were. They are wherever we are. We are their obsession."

    Reynauld crossed himself, whispering a prayer. She shivered.

    "I can see them, see it in them," Daberman continued. "They want to be like us. They want to become more 3 dimensional," he bit out spitefully. "They gain somethin from it, more than just enjoyment."

    "And," Reynauld drawled, "I'm suddenly way more uncomfortable being alone in the dark. Makin me anxious, bro." Barreling through Daberman's muted apology, he asked, "Why aren't they trying to kill us or do weird supernatural bullshit if they're all around here, dude?"

    "Proximity and energy, I reckon. They're adjacent to us, but it ain't free to pop from one dimension to another. The weak ones, they don't have what it takes to cross over, and besides, the smart ones have better places to be. A Blue Zone, an Epicenter. If one did crop up," he trailed off.

    "We'll handle 'em all right," Reynauld reassured him. "I ain't met anything that likes 20mm that much. Shoot the fuck out of them."

    "In a confined space like this, Rey?" He didn't point out the obvious, that those grenades would rip them all to shreds. Except for her of course, but they didn't know that.

    "…All right maybe not, maybe not," he conceded. "I'll use my bayonet, fuck it."

    "Look, I do appreciate the sentiment, 'God, guns, and gumption,' but first of all, we're screwed either way given the girl's condition-"

    "She saved our lives out here, and I don't wanna hear a word otherwise, aight?" Reynaud paused a moment, calming down from his angry interjection. "I know you're better than this doom shit, dude. Fuck off with that. Either we'll make it through this, or we won't, simple as. We don't have the answers."

    They moved to lighter topics for a time, until she became too uncomfortable to eavesdrop further. The allure of company drew her forward.

    Their conversation halted as she entered, the man in the driver's seat turning to look at her. The medic. The faint smile he had borne died immediately upon seeing her, a frown settling in its' place. "Greetings." He turned back where he sat, waving loftily. "Been asleep a long while, 24 hours or nearabouts." Presumably referring to her, not himself. From his body language, he wanted to say something more, but he did not continue before Reynauld addressed her, standing up.

    "I know you and my buddy here don't get along too well, but he's a good man, I can assure you of that, he's just an idiot." He silenced Daberman with a look when he made to say something. "And, or course, we're right thankful for what you've done." He clapped her on the shoulder. Dumbly, she stared at his hand, causing him to quickly withdraw it, his smile a little more forced than before.

    For longer than she would've liked, she struggled to determine an appropriate response, before settling on, "Thank you." She bore, out of inability to react quickly enough more than any sense of good grace, Reynauld's exclamations that they'd done nothing to be thankful for, not really, and that she didn't have to be humble, that whatever she needed to get them all outta here, he'd be more than happy to assist, if indeed he could. She nodded reflexively during the appropriate parts of the conversation, not tracking fast enough to respond properly.

    "I'd like to have a word with her, Rey." The dark expression had only grown darker, like he'd searched her and seen something terrible. Recalling her dream, she considered that perhaps he had.

    A flash of insight informed her that that was what he wanted to talk with her about.

    Reynauld looked at him for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed, before looking back at her as if to ask what she wanted.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

    [] Hear him out.
    [] Don't hear him out.

    Gained insight into the dual curses of Doom and Exhaustion. Revealed the effects of Doom and Exhaustion.
    Curse of Doom: Doubled Fumble threshold. Influences emotional state and perception of events. Grows stronger over time by siphoning energy from her and those around her. If Dorete does not deal with the Curse of Doom, the likelihood something catastrophic occurs increases until she dies.
    Curse of Exhaustion: Reduced fatigue recovery, needs more sleep than usual. Suppresses maximum energy output. If Dorete expends too much energy without dealing with the Curse of Exhaustion, she will collapse and die.
    Doom + Exhaustion Synergy: The energy siphoning and suppression from the two Curses combined renders Dorete incapable of regaining Stamina threshholds even when resting.
    Regained 1 MHP, Agitated becomes Stressed (-1 to all Intelligence skills)
    Exhausted (-3 to all skills)

    AN: Late, as usual!
     
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    • I've hit the stage where I read the earlier parts of this with disgust. Why so many commas, me from 2018? Chill. But it seems there are still people interested in where this goes, so go on it will, however long it takes. Never did get too much feedback about my writing, so I'll just have to assume it's good enough and stop asking. Would do pretty much the whole business differently, but that's natural I think for a first timer. 2nd versus 3rd person for one, the chargen process while fun also dragged on awhile, giving a few character choice options or even not doing chargen at all seem preferable for something this involved. Definitely overly ambitious. Had to tackle things from a far more introspective perspective considering the protagonist basically deletes most threats out there under optimal circumstances. I don't regret doing this, certainly not, but this project didn't go anywhere close to where I was expecting, and no, writing for it did not magically give me more time and motivation to work on the system I've been using to determine things. Silly me.

    Also very torn about starting new projects, since my current track record is "start something, drop it for half a year or more, come and do it again." But I've been thinking of doing something new for a year or so, likely using Silmarillion/Morgoth's Ring material (did I mention I am overly ambitious?), though I also considered Diablo given the critical lack of anything involving it, and it would have far less overhead to track. I'm also kind of leery of getting too popular, which may be getting ahead of myself! Bigger quests seem kinda radical.

    Regardless, the vote is lookin pretty unanimous and it's not like we got a big crew around here. Will arbitrarily start writing for it at some point today, if there are no objections. I've never pushed this "Open voting" button before, let's do that.
     
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