The Great Game

Fiction detailing the ongoing events on the Homeline and numerous parallel Worldlines.

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The Great Game

Post by arcanus » Wed Aug 27, 2014 8:59 pm

The Bizarre – Date Undetermined
Eddie looked out of the third story window at the bewildering chaos of the multidimensional bizarre a crazed amalgamation of every ethnic marketplace in Earth history and a few alien.
The flight stroke jump had been relatively bumpy, however his younger brother was utterly comatose so hadn’t noticed, due to Sellockes hard work the outfitted PBY Catalina flying boat had made its techno-arcane transit with minimal fuss.

He now stood in a modest office, somehow acquired by their employer the eminent doctor.
The room was decorated with modest momentos of the seaside, lighthouse plaques, ships wheels and a desk made from exotic island wood.
The doctor stood passively behind his desk, Elliot upon regaining his senses had made his way straight to the office and was ranting.

“Your damned mission got everybody killed” Elliot said ominously
The Doctor merely looked at the younger Hoste eyebrow twitching
Eddie sighed and looked back out of the window at the alien vendors hawking weird and often disgusting wares, the Doctor responded by walking around the desk to his washed wood sideboard and poured himself a cup of Darjeeling.
Elliot shook with rage, perhaps it was the fact that the Doctor was an old man, although Eddie knew the reality of that façade or was it the Doctor's considerable skills in the paranormal arts that restrained his younger brother.

The Doctor sipped his tea but still remained silent, Eddie could tell this was sending his brother completely over the edge
“Only four of us made it back, FOUR, four out of twenty, FOUR OUT OF TWENTY!” Elliot roared
“I think you’ve had your say Elliot!” Eddie’s head snapped around, the Doctors voice although quiet was thunderous
Elliot’s eyes budged” “You knew the risks, you’ve always known the risks” said the Doctor sternly
“You sent us into a death trap” Elliot growled
“No you walked into a death trap, like the countless times before that”
“A death trap” Elliot whispered his eyes now closed “YOU BASTARD”
“It was your decision to take your lady friend Mr Hoste, I’ve always given you that freedom and have never forced you to take any mission”
Elliot raised his head and looked the Doctor straight in the eye “I’m done”
“Fair enough” replied the Doctor and watched him as he left the room
Eddie grimly watched his brother march through the stalls back to the Catalina

“Does that sentiment apply to you” the Doctor asked after several minutes, Eddie realised he was stood next to him looking down at the bizarre
“And return to my tyrannical matriarch or worst still Infinity Inc not likely doc” Eddie stood, “However I’ll have to get him back to the Palace”
“We’ll need to try for another Sextant or our efforts will entirely be in vain!"
“Yeah I guessed that” Eddie replied, pulling on his greatcoat and left the room

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The Great Game

Post by arcanus » Mon Jun 22, 2020 4:54 pm

The Deep Currents, The Lower Parallel – Nowhere
Current Events: Part of the inter-dimensional spaces between Worlds, the elemental fluid parts of unfinished creation.
The Wastes
“Well, shake it up, baby, now
Twist and shout
Come on, come on, come, come on, baby, now
Come on and work it on out
Well, work it on out, honey
You know you look so good
You know you got me goin' now
Just like I know you would”
-The Beatles – Twist & Shout

The wastes were filled with the conflicting energies of creation and entropy, raw primal states that constantly made and unmade the landscape, the rust coloured air and any traveller who happened to stumble into them.

It was a raw visitor who ventured to the wastes voluntarily.

Glod’s own innate and incanted protections strained as they resisted the very atmosphere around him attempting to reduce him to primal matter, the only things that were resistant were the flotsam ornaments that found their way to the endless rolling dunes of bric-a-brack.

The items of course were not real or tangible, they were shadows or reflections of the items True Names, fallen through the cracks and imprinted onto the wastelands.
However, whilst they held no value in themselves, they hid a most important fact to those who knew how to look, where in creation the reflections reality truly lay.

For most the Wastes were suicide if they even knew how to navigate to them in the first place, a fool’s venture the price of even seeking the whereabouts of an item were complete destruction by its entropic forces.

Even to one so attuned and adept within the parallels currents as Glod it was journey of extreme peril, yet for the first in a very long time his purpose was unusually selfless and even noble, as he Twisted and Turned in a blur of flickering angled projections placing as great as distance from the enormous disembodied heads of the Fab Four, he cast his mind back to the evening prior and the realisation of his fears.

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The Great Game

Post by arcanus » Tue Jun 23, 2020 8:59 am

Orzon, The Eighth Parallel – Nowhere
Divergence Point(s): An inter dimensional island, within the bowels of creation.
Current Events: A trans-dimensional port, where the Spectres of worlds dwell, one layer above the Ninth Gate.
“And the sun starts climbing the roof
It's a dream
Only a dream
And it's fading now
Fading away
It's only a dream
Just a memory without anywhere to stay”
- Neil Young (Prairie Wind)

One Night prior – On the Corner of Turnkey Square
A fine mist of crystals blew across Orzon, crunching underfoot and chapping its inhabitants faces as they ventured from shop to shop.

Multiple Labyrinth ships had docked bringing about rowdy carousing and an early close for the craftsmen, whilst the traders and publicans extended their hours.

Despite the bawdy rows and shanties, a sense of Dickensian festivity had descended upon the nowhere town, Glod found himself in an unusually calm and reflective mood, one tempered with an unparalleled degree of patience.

He attributed in large part to his storytelling sessions with Aldren, he chided himself for becoming so attached, in centuries he had little time for anyone, of all folk he knew well the finality of the Multiverse and creation, yet this small child memory had stoked a paternal instinct he’d rarely considered himself to possess.

He had even ventured out from his shop, mulling over the infuriating Doctors request, he hated to admit it but the traveller had a uncomfortable point the Infinity upstarts would persist and persist, driven by fear and greed. Clumsy and largely unaware of a fraction of the required Lore they could cause untold damage, however acquiring another Sextant would be extremely perilous and he was still uncomfortable with giving the Eternity Foundation access.

Were they that much better than Infinity, albeit on the whole their record more honourable they were still meddlesome and delved into dark places best left well alone.

He looked absently at the carved ornaments in a shop window, caught in his own thoughts he barely noticed the change until it was too late. His eyes shone as his senses flared, looking into the continually circling clouds above Orzon he watched spear like phantom streamers race down from the heavens and weave through the cobbled streets.

The majority of the streamers passed harmlessly through the majority of residents and crewmen without their ever knowing, however some of the streamers seemed to be hunting, as they stuck a memoria, the afflicted flickered and withered. Some faded and looked ill, whilst others vanished entirely.

His eyes widened as he sensed the wrench, his hooved legs carrying him with all haste he followed his senses, navigating the winding streets until he came to the Corner of Turnkey Square.

He snarled in rage as he saw the fading silhouettes of several memoria who hadn’t made it, but his anger was centred on the faded form of Aldren seemingly only held here by his being cradled in the arms of a local flower lady Lily Forget Me Not.
She looked imploringly at the murmuring crowd hesitantly gathered around her, gawking in intrigue but offering nothing in assistance

“FECK THE HELL OFF THE DAMNDARN LOT OF YER MAGGOTS” Glod roared, his rageful countenance instantly dispelling the crowd
Lily looked at him as he knelt, Adren was barely visible he watched the eddies and currents flowing around the boy, in his hand a beacon a flower, a daisy, Glod’s narrowed his eyes there lay the source of his affliction and also the delay of his demise.
“I’m, I’m sssssssorrry” spluttered Lily
“Not yer fault luv” replied Glod not removing his eyes from the flower “The flowers his birth flower I think that’s wots keepin im ere”

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The Great Game

Post by arcanus » Tue Jun 23, 2020 9:01 am

Orzon, The Eighth Parallel – Nowhere
Divergence Point(s): An inter dimensional island, within the bowels of creation.
Current Events: A trans-dimensional port, where the Spectres of worlds dwell, one layer above the Ninth Gate.
The Winding Lane - Orzon
It was mere hours before the traveller once again appeared in Glods study, this time right beside his tea table, making the faun jump “YOU FLAMING IDIOT” he roared
The traveller’s eyebrow twitched as he helped himself to a fresh cup of Darjeeling this time in Glods best china, the faun spent several moments containing an explosion.

“So this is the poor chap” said the Doctor as he carefully crouched beside Lily who was uncomfortably perched on the edge of a floral settee still cradling Adrin
“Hmmm, as you suspected the flower is the only thing holding him here, however……”
“Oever wot!” growled the Faun
“The flower was also the source of his ills, I fear it amplified his pattern created a beacon for the entropy streams!” Glod silently seethed and glared at Lily
Without turning “Not her fault Glod, she’d have not known” the Doctor smiled at Lily and began weaved his hands, quietly intoning words of power.
Orzon’s keeper had reinforced its fabric driving the streams out and the wards resisted his spells, however he worked methodically and with skill wove within the fabric not against it.
After several minutes the incantations complete the Doctor tapped the flower, Glod gulped watching as a amber crystal sheen covered the boy from head to toe.
“Shall I take him my dear?” asked the Doctor standing, Lily gingerly stood and gratefully handed Adrin to the taller man
“So ow is he?” asked Glod impatiently, he hadn’t dared move from being perched on the edge of his desk
“He’s stable, however he’ll only remain whilst the flower lives” the Doctor smiled knowly at Lily
“So you’ll ave to stop ere” snapped Glod at Lily
“Charming” observed the Doctor provoking another snarl from the faun
“Will you calm down!” snapped the Doctor in return before pouring himself a further cup of Darjeeling “He’s a memory, its sad however memories fade” he added softly
“I FECKIN WELL KNOW THAT, OWEVER IT ISN’T APPENING, HE DESERVES A CHANCE, SUMTHIN BETTER” raged Glod as he stalked up the stairs towards his open fire, which burst into flames with this approach.
“Well he could be bound to a spirit shell”
“No good he’d be a tasty morsel for one of the thousands of unters down ere” muttered Glod
“Not if he were then bound to a body” added the Doctor thoughtfully
“An Ed not be able to come down ere!” the Faun glared balefully at the mantlepiece
“Is that so bad!
“That’s without question, however what’s best for the boy”
“Very well, however that’s infinitely more difficult and I’ll need materials, rare materials”
Glod turned, looking suspiciously at the Doctor “Wot sort of materials!”
“Primal Clay and Aqueus Vitae”
The Doctor merely smiled, eyebrow twitching
The faun silently growled and muttered “Fine, FINE!”
Lily for her part watched in shocked silence
“You know where to find these components as well as the Sextant?” asked the Doctor
“I know who knows where a Sextant is, its wot they’ll want that’s the problem!”
“But not insurmountable”
“NO, oh alright, aright, I’ll get you yer damned components an the location of the Sextant” Glods shoulders sank “It just means a feckin awful trip!”
The Doctor and Lily watched as what appeared to be the depth of a volcano or hell, play across the studies ceiling

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The Great Game

Post by arcanus » Sat Aug 28, 2021 9:40 am

Witch Brook Hollow
The manor house stood at the base of a shallow valley, the terrain gradually sloping upwards from both its north and south boundaries. The entirety of the landscape surrounding it densely covered in ancient, twisted and gnarled beach and elm trees, a perpetual layer of ground fog wove between their trunks and the perceptive might notice the house itself ringed by a grove of hawthorns.

The house was something of an aberration a tall building of definitively Victorian design, with distinct Georgian elements, in contrast its patios were a complex series of grey stone buttresses in an almost Egyptian composition reminiscent of a maze.
A most curious layout upon which to spend leisure time, the surrounding grounds having an almost labyrinthine quality to them, of course this was quite deliberate.

Its owner frowned, standing in his private lounge, he took a sip of gin, sighed and made his way through the vaulted neoclassical central hall and into the east wing, this being a configuration of smaller more practical rooms and what appeared to be vaults.
Again, a visitor might question this curious use of space and the somewhat oppressive gothic layout and style of this wing, he arrived in a small antechamber, the floor an art deco tile mosaic of a smiling sun in a medieval style, surrounded by complex glyphs and symbols.

He stood in the doorway watching the grey stone lancet arch opposite, the archways were not doorways in a conventional sense in fact beneath the pointed constructs were nothing but stone walls.

Despite this the stone became porous and then liquid, he had half a mind to allow the chambers protections loose to bar the approach, he could feel the heka weave straining, pushing itself toward the archway to fulfil its purpose to stop ingress.

However he would never hear the end of it, instead he muttered an incantation which relaxed the web and a hand felt its way through the Anubis Gate, fumbling for something before the rest of its body stepped through.

The figures eyebrow was already twitching as motes of errant power drained from his form, vented out of the chamber and the house.

Maximillian Harvey Scott said nothing allowing the Doctor to fuss and dust himself off.
“You could have made that a little smoother” grumbled the Doctor
“The last we spoke I told you, you were not welcome here and yet here we are!” replied Scott
“You’re not still sulking!”
Scott gave the Doctor a sour look “Beware the ridicule of a witch within the hearth!”
“Yes, Yes” retorted the Doctor dismissively “Anyway a cup of Darjeeling and then to work”
Maximillian Harvey Scott monemtarily allowed an incredulous look to cross his face, before resigning himself, turning he began to stroll back across the ground floor toward his study.

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The Great Game

Post by arcanus » Mon Aug 30, 2021 8:09 pm

Orzon, The Eighth Parallel – Nowhere
Divergence Point(s): An inter dimensional island, within the bowels of creation.
Current Events: A trans-dimensional port, where the Spectres of worlds dwell, one layer above the Ninth Gate.
The Winding Lane - Orzon - Some Hours Earlier
Preparations had been made, despite this Glod stomped around impatiently, exhaled loudly, "FLAMIN ELL, OW MUCH FRICKKIN LONGER!" he suddenly bellowed

The Doctor merely frowned and patted Lily's hand reassuringly
"There's no need to shout" came a voice from the studies balcony, Glod spun so rapidly he almost did himself a mischief, the Doctor looked up and smiled
"Ah excellent timing as always my dear"
The arrival was a slip of a girl, her blonde hair bundled accentuating her angular features, dressed in a victorian ladies outdoor double breasted jacket, ankle length skirt and greatcoat, parasol pointed to the floor the only detail disturbing her immaculate ensemble was a Black cockatoo on her shoulder.

"My dear cankankerous fawn, may I present Miss Lucinda Croft"
Glod stalked forwards her his entire being seeming composed of nothing but suspicion, "She smells of craft!"
"Yes thats fairly essential, don't you think!" Replied the Doctor tartily
Glod leaned forwards staring at the bird, which in return also leant forward, crunching his beak and looking the Fawn straight in the eye
"You're aving a larth, you let that beastie of yours breed!" he snorted, not taking his eyes off the small bird, who cocked his head, almost goading him
"There's no reason to be rude, he's a very endearing creature as are his offspring, they merely have little patience with rude people, now that we're all introduced shall we get on!"
"Fine, fine" grumbled Glod

They quickly finished their final preparations, Miss Croft had immediately familiarised herself with Glods dwelling, introduced herself to Lily and been appraised of Aldren's condition.

Glod figgeted and fretted, The Doctor lay a gentle hand upon his shoulder
"He's in capable hands, now we must be away if we are to have any hope!"
"I.......I know" said Glod quietly
They nodded farewell to Miss Croft as gathering their bags they departed

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Re: The Great Game

Post by arcanus » Thu Sep 02, 2021 4:17 pm

Witch Brook Hollow
His housekeeper brought tea and refreshments, he thanked her before she returned to her bed.
The doctor settled into a paisley print captains chair, whilst Harvey Scott stood beside the fireplace, on the edge of his senses he heard the howling from deep within the woods.
He noted his visitor looking at him, eyebrow raised "Why do you insist on staying in this dreadful place!"
"Because, their must be dark places as well as light, you may not accept the natural and unnatural order, but nether the less they exist!" Harvey Scott replied
"Yes, but that doesn't answer the question, does it!"
He gave the Doctor a piercing look "Because dark places draw dark things which must be contained, after all we aren't all fortunate enough to find a virgin realm"
"Fortune had little to do with finding Potters Fort, painstaking research and prospecting found her" replied the doctor as he stood and helped himself to another cup of tea
"Granted, however we work with what we've got"
"Alright, but why not scour the place, its full of predators and shades"
"For one so learned you show an appalling lack of vision at times, this is why we fell out last time, you can't just go changing everything to light, darkness has to have a place, if not here then somewhere else where it can do immeasurably greater harm" observed Harvey Scott
The doctor looked unconvinced
"This is exactly what you accuse that upstart company of, changing what they don't like without regard for the consequences, if not here it propogates in hidden places and it grows worse!"
"I am nothing like that company, how dare you!" bristled the doctor, Harvey Svott merely smiled, "So your reason for visiting, not merely social I take it?"

Pouring himself a drink, he settled in the opposite chair, both men allowing the crackling hearth to warm them, the doctor recited recent the events of the search for the sextant, Glod, Adren and the ongoing quest.

Harvey Scott listened saying nothing until the doctor had finished, "So you have agreed to save the boy in return for this artefact?"
The doctor considered this for a long moment "Yes and no, Glod is no ones friend, for him to
to be so heartfelt about the boy, it struck a cord, reminded me of our better days!"
Maximillian Harvey Scott released a great sigh "I have much to do here" he said as much to himself as anyone else
"I could really do with your help" said the doctor quietly
"I know"
Both fell silent swirling their brandy's
"Very well, however you have to reciprocate and lend a hand or spell here, once done!"
The doctor smiled "Of course, the best mage will assist the second best mage"
Harvey Scott chuckled and shook his head

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The Great Game

Post by arcanus » Wed Sep 08, 2021 1:25 pm

The Atlantic - Other Earth - 1907
The smell of ozone, salt and soil was almost overpowering, Harvey Scott looked heavenward at the face of the end times.

The asteroid, Gods Hammer as it had been named was hours from Earth, its emmisaries had been bombarding the planet for the better part of a week, at first the occasional meteorite but progressing into a shower as the days passed, now during the daylight hours above the Atlantic carriage sized rocks were striking the expanse of the ocean.

They had faced almost insummountable odds countless times however it was safe to say none of them under estimated the immensity of the task, they had not all agreed Charlemagne had advocated that they evacuate as many souls as could be saved, McMasters had quietly agreed however Spindle had argued that wasn't enough, a tiny fraction of those that would be damned.

So the Thunderchild Mark III had materialised above the once beautiful County Mayo in Western Ireland, a landscape that now looked like the surface of the moon, raising every arcane and enchanted protection they could muster they sailed into the sky.

The plan nothing short of insane, there wasn't a weapon powerful enough to destroy or break Gods Hammer apart, not in time, so there was only one other option to open a door and sent it somewhere else, that somewhere was the depths of creation itself where the mightly iron and granite rock would be consumed by primordial forces.

Despite their own immense powers even the Foundation could not call upon or control that level of power, but they could call upon those that could. So the Thunderchild now traced an arcane pattern across the skies of the Atlantic, a huge glyph to call upon these powers.

In itself the weaving was a herculean endevour and around them the sky was literally falling upon them, every ounce of the ships power not used for propulsion was fed into the shields, however the bombardment was constantly depleting the shields and diminishing the ships batteries.

Whilst Spindle and Charlemagne focused their attention on the great ritual, McMasters manned the helm flying a precise pattern with no room for error, Harvey Scott, Albrecht and the latters loyal retainer the troll Taine were providing protection too as much land and the ship as possible.

It could be argued that Harvey Scott could have provided sorcerous aid to Spindle, however as they had conceded the ritual was useless if the ship were blown from the sky and its shields alone could not withstand the assault.
Instead the Arch Warlock, Fey Lord and retainer marshalled their command of the elements and nature, they had conjured and seeded hurricanes in the upper clouds huge swirling vortexs with winds hundreds of miles an hour, these maelstroms loomed above the Atlantic coastlines and the mid-Atlantic itself, buffeting and slamming the invaders away from landfall or the Thunderchild.

Combining their powers they had called upon every spirit ally they could to destroy or deflect the small asteroids, Covens, Ley Lines and the ancient standing stones took the strain of maintaining the hurricanes, whilst each of them directed what attention and power they had remaining directing magical strikes at the rocks.

And yet still the onslaught continued.

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