The Chronicle

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

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The Chronicle

Post by arcanus » Sun Mar 11, 2012 11:29 pm

Homeline – Infinity Headquarters, Chicago – Spring 2027.
It was a beautiful warm sunny day, a balmy 18 degrees, a bright cheerful day that lifted every bodies spirits.
The Infinite Tower was an immense structure, towering some 120 stories tall, as the golden sun graced its eastern side its windows polarised.
The 32rd floor housed the Validation and Permits department, from its name an innocuous affair, but appearances were very much deceiving for this was the floor where cross-time travel was authorised.
Amongst Infinity Bureaucrats the administrators of this department wielded enormous power, a fact James McFadden appeared to have grossly underestimated.

Sat in the plush reception alongside his fellow Sports journo Mike Eldridge, a pair of kings surveyed all that lay before them, laughing raucously at their shared jokes, checking out the secretaries with cheeky winks, sneering at the male administrators and sprawled across the half moon Prussian blue sofas.

Their territory was encroached as a bespectacled man entered and took a seat, his tablet beneath his arm, the pair immediately adopted snipe expressions, this was the geek that they the jocks in high school had either ignored or ridiculed.
For his part the man ignored them, waking his Tablet up and catching up with whatever work he was involved in, Jimmy and Mike frowned at the lack of sport and returned to their conversation.

“So did you bone her!” challenged Eldridge
Jimmy gave him that ‘what do you think!’ look
Mike produced his smart phone “Check this out”
Jimmy expected to see some naked or near naked girl draped in lingerie instead he was greeted with something of equal allure a Jaguar Hydro XJ775 super sports car, his eyes almost popped out of his head
“No way, yours!”
“Yep, ordered it Friday, last bonus cheques a biggy” Mike’s eyebrows raised knowingly
Inwardly Jimmy fumed, no matter how successful he was, Mike had a habit of pulling the bigger payoffs, still he had back to back stories lined up, 2027 was definitely going to be his year.

Both Mike and he worked for the Trans-World Chronicle Homeline and potentially the multiverses only inter dimensional newspaper, filled with breaking news from historical echoes, biographies of the historically famous, human interest stories, science, the arts and best of all sports.

Live reports of historic games and events from Echoes, futurist sports and even alternate versions of well known games, it was big business and the Chronicles biggest income driver.
For this simple reason its Sports Journalists were the highest paid, bonused on how many events they could cover and the level of coverage all while running that fine line of maintaining the Secret.

Which was exactly why the pair of them had to report to Infinity’s Head Office, to renew their Cross Time licences, without them they didn't go anywhere, which for the Sportsters was financial Armageddon.
“Did you hear about the stupid bitch Annette Garrett” sneered Eldridge
“Yeah crazy ho” retorted Jimmy
“Heard she’s completely blown her expense account in two days, plus got herself involved with some kind of cross time creature”
Jimmy snorted “Fuckin amateur”
The bespectacled visitor regarded the pair and frowned
“Problem buddy” snarled Eldridge
To his credit the visitor held Mike’s glare and merely shook his head
“Bookworms got a set” scoffed Jimmy
The three of them looked up as a man in a crisp suit had appeared before them, had he overhead the exchange, the Validation and Permits officer reviewed his tablet before turning to the visitor “Mr Dillon” and gestured for him to follow
“Hey buddy wait a minute, we've been waiting here over an hour” objected Mike
The V&P Officer regarded his tablet again before coolly regarding the pair “So you have” and walked off
“Dick” snarled Mike

Validation and Permits Office - Infinity Headquarters, Chicago – 14.30.
A further hour had passed before Jimmy entered the opaque office, sitting across the uniform desk sat a not unattractive but slightly geeky woman, again casting his mind back to high school the pretty geek.
Jimmy smiled Mike may get the payoffs but James McFadden was deadly with the ladies, he flashed her a killer smile and a raised eyebrow, the woman didn’t react in the slightest
A little perturbed by the woman’s immunity to his obvious charms Jimmy relaxed, leaning back into this chair.

“Is this a joke Mr McFadden” said the woman not even looking up
Jimmy frowned, she was really uptight “Look Lady is this going to take long, I’m really bu”
She looked him straight in the eye “It takes as long as it takes!”
“I can see from your attitude why we have an issue” she continued
“Issue, look Lady I never normally have a problem, can you just stamp my visa for Gods-“
“Well we do have a problem Mr McFadden, you’ve been cautioned four times in the past year for Article 1 Breaches”
“Article 1” Jimmy shook his head ignorantly
“That little thing we call the Secret Mr McFadden, you’ve risked Cross world contamination that we’re aware of on four occasions”
Jimmy shook his head, how the hell did Infinity know about that, he couldn’t even remember any near misses himself “Lady I’ve got no idea what your talking about!”
“Let me refresh your memory, leaving a Smart Phone in Parallel -99S, your electronic driver’s licence in a girls apartment again in Parallel -99S current year 1927, involving yourself in a television interview in Parallel -73N and last but not least the birth of your daughter on Echo -56F”
Jimmy’s face had by this stage become very pale “The first instance the item being handed into the local Police due to its nature and having to be retrieved by an I-Cop at considerable expense”
“In the last instance you could have irrevocably affected the timeline”
“Look lady can I speak to a Supervisor you clearly have a beef with me!” retorted Jimmy
“No Mr McFadden you may not, the Infinity Patrol has been monitoring your activities for several months again at considerable expense, while they have seen nothing Earth Shattering the last issue having the Jury out, you are deemed an issue”
“What does that mean”
“It means Mr McFadden, that you will be permitted a Month by Month probationary visa and constantly supervised until such time as your suitability or lack thereof is fully determined, all costs will be met by the Chronicle, finally should evidence of Timeline shift be observed on Echo -56F you may be subject to a Criminal investigation”
‘Shit she had the kid, bitch’ mentally cursed Jimmy ‘Paid for the fucking abortion, bitch, bitch, bitch’ looking out of the window at the golden sun, Jame’s Mcfadden’s outlook had definitely grown cloudy.

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Post by arcanus » Tue Mar 20, 2012 10:07 pm

Asgard - Divergence Point: 780AD, Viking Scalds discover Rune Magic, they use this to battle the Linorms and Trolls in the Northern Icelands.
Current Affairs: 819AD the Scandinavian Kingdoms are subject to Civil War as the Christine Danes battle the Norwegian Aesir, in order to wipe out the Old Gods.
Føroyar Islands – 819AD.
Eive Orild scrambled up the slopes of Hálgafelli, upon the North Eastern Isle of Borðoy.
Unlike the Christian Armies if a woman could prove herself in battle she had a place within a warband, behind her hiked Targ Larsten and behind him the elder Vadan Odrolf.

Vadan shook his head, she was always the first, rushing headlong into adversity, reaching the craggy summit Eive crouched amongst the snowy boulders and watched, looking for their quarry.
The two slower Vikings saw the other figure approach, moving around the rocks toward their female companion, neither could warn her as they would undoubtedly warn their opponents.

A sixth sense warned Eive, spinning she brought her Spatha sword up, her quiet assailant doing the same, the blades meeting.
The assailant was the middle of his midden years, Saxon features with short curled brown hair and an adults beard, one thing was certain he was no Norseman.
The two stood regarding each other with hard eyes until the other Norsemen had scaled the slope.
“Eive hold” said Vadan quietly, “This is Bran, in these times an ally”
For his part Bran lowered his blade
“Bran that is a Cymrun name” said Eive suspiciously “When did we ally with the Celts” she snarled
“We did not, however we are allied with The Erilaz, Norse or not!”
Vadan nodded to the Breton, who nodded in return.

Bran was not dressed as a Norseman, his tunic and braccae made of wool, similarly a woollen cloak lined with hide rather than the fur trim of the Vikings.
In answer to Eive’s scorn Bran merely smiled, his eyes twinkling.

Meanwhile Targ was surveying the terrain, his hand snapped down signalling danger, each of the band ducked into the rocks, as they did so a winged shape surged over the mountain, narrowly skimming the peak.
The creature arced once and then plummeted into a dive, directly toward the band who by this time had scattered.
It resembled a large reptilian bird of prey, long quilled spines sprouting from random parts of its body, its skin ridged, slick and black, its mouth full of fangs, it screeched and outstretched its massive claws forwards.
As it swooped, Evie broke cover drawing its attention, it descended like a giant hawk ready to snatch its prey, as it did Targ also broke cover and hurled his first spear into its chest.
The creature crashed into the rocks, Targ wasting little time in spearing it again, as it thrashed in agony Eive vaulted down the slope, avoiding the jet of flame that erupted from its mouth and cleaved its skull apart with her sword.

A second passed over the peak however Vadan awaited it, springing to his feet and with a great swing of his battle-axe he slit its throat sending it into to a fiery explosion at the base of the mountain.
Bran sent a flurry of arrows at another two that encircled the summit, each kept a respectful distance shooting beams of fire down onto the rock face, the beasts however were slow witted, their hunger overcoming their sense of preservation, as they ventured closer Bran peppered their wings with arrows.

Eventually both beasts were no longer able to fly and were set upon by Targ and Eive, caked in gore.
Vadan turned and the band marched over the peak and began to make their way down to the flat rocky plain that made up the North shore, twilight darkness covered the skies of Føroyar for most of the year, as late afternoon overtook them so did the elements, the skies darkening and snow flurries picking up.
The band dug themselves a pit and pulled hides across the top, they then settled down to a meal of smoked fish and bread, before turning in for the night.
Eive awoke with a start, Bran quietened her with an upheld finger.
She could hear a thunderous roar, definitely not the snow, she also noticed that both Vadan and Targ were gone, giving Bran a defiant glare she pushed past him, the Breton muttered beneath his breath and followed.

The pair moved through the blizzard until suddenly they were aware of frenzied movement ahead of them, flashes of battle ahead of them, Bran flung himself into her.
Eive shouted in outrage and tried to draw her dagger, only to see that the Breton had pulled her beyond the reach of a huge white tail, one that was lashing through the snow, rending the very ground itself.
She tried to see the beast but the white sheet obscured everything, again she lost Bran only to see him slope into the snow spear in hand, another ear splitting roar reverberated through the storm.

The storm suddenly stilled Eive stood poised, blades ready the snow swirled for a long time before clearing, as it did a number of pained but quieter roars shuddered through the squall.

Before her stood Vadan, Targ, Bran and a tall horned man, her eyes widened a Jotun child, she saw that Bran had managed to pin the beasts tail with a spear, death had followed shortly afterwards as the three warriors had set upon it.
The beast was a white Linorn as big as a barn, its snow white hide now streaked with bloody rends.

The giant stood some eight hands high, ram like horns upon the sides of his head, a heavy ridged brow, flat almost cat like nose and tusked teeth extending from his lower jaw.
He dressed liked a Norseman and as Eive approached she noticed that Vadan was talking to him, warily she looked between them.
The giant turned and looked at Bran “Well met Lord of Gwynedd”, Bran bowed to the creature, Eive thought they’d gone mad, the Aesir had battled the Jotun since the dawn of times and so had their people the Norse.

Vadan seemed to sense her disquiet and took her to one side “What troubles you child”
“He is a monster, Jotun Blood yet we talk with him like a brother” she hissed
“He is a brother” replied the older man, Eive’s eyes widened “Not everything is so clear Eive, our own brothers, Norsemen now fall upon each other, Kinstrife now divides us as Christian battles Aesir”
“Thorgeisson and his people have always been allied with us, they’ve defended the North, stood against the Linorms of the Icelands”
“Not all men are brothers and not all Fel are monsters Eive, you are Erilaz, ‘Runechild’ just like Bran, that is a bond greater than blood, for blood can be spilt” he laid a fatherly hand upon her shoulder.
The greetings finished the group stood in conference one that Eive was party too, Vadan spoke
“Our brethren are divided Erilaz or Rune Børn following Christ now hunt those of the old ways, they have even began to turn upon themselves, whole villages are being put to the Sword” he paused before continuing
“Once the Children of the Aesir are gone, there will be no one to defend the Lands from the Linorn and without a cull they will breed beyond control, we must mount an expedition round up any Aesir Erilaz who will sail with us and set sail to the North Star, once they’re we must cull the Linorn so that they cannot threaten our children and their children for many winters”

Eive could not contain herself, excitement surged through her system, this would be a Saga “Should we not defend our kin from the Christians?” she said resolutely
“The Nóregr Vikings will hold the Danes, we must stop them being caught between beasts and monsters ” rumbled the giant
“The Christians think that their savour will kill the Monsters for them and cannot see that we defend the North frontier and once they realised this they will have slain all those who can kill the Linorn’s, no we must do this”
“And when the Saga is finished” Eive asked
“We the Children of Aesir will settle the Dragonlands, the Linorn will eventually return, there must be Erilaz awaiting them when they do, we must ensure it!” finished Vadan

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The Chronicle

Post by arcanus » Wed Mar 28, 2012 9:47 pm

The Chronicle
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Post by arcanus » Thu Mar 29, 2012 10:54 am

Gernsback, 1965 - Divergence Point: 1893; Nikola Tesla marries Anne Morgan, the daughter of financier J.P. Morgan, and thus remains sane enough to invent radio and broadcast power with Morgan financing.
Current Affairs: The World Science Council puts down all threats to techno-utopia in the fantastic World of the Future!
The Electric Stadium – Corona Park, Queens – New York
Powered by electro-magnetic tension Sam Huffs spring suit propelled him forwards at a muscle wrenching pace, he came out of the jump into a roll avoiding the left side tackle from the Cincinnati Centurions Defence.
Their agility and reactions amplified by an order of two Speedball was a furious game that changed by the second and hesitation was the ultimate sin.
Sprinting forwards across the transparent aluminium floor he vaulted onto the upward ramp and ignored the searing burn through his quadriceps as he propelled himself upwards into the sky vault.

He could hear his team mates shouting for him to pass, each player was only allowed to retain possession for a set time period or suffer a penalty, as Leaders in the NSP this wasn’t acceptable.
The Centurion Defence raced forward to prevent him from reaching the launch tubes.
They could have tried trading single points on the ground goal but the Centurions were too good a team to stretch a meagre lead on, no the play had to be a Skygoal and a clear six points.

Larry Burnham sped onto the sky vault waving for him to pass, Sam span blocking the first Defence’s punch and knocking him over, his arm swept back and launched the magnetised steel ball.
The collected inertia was swept up by the electro-magnetic currents crossing the play zone and accelerated, the second Defence wisely ducked as the ball became a missile the third was not so cautious and was smashed aside by its trajectory as the ball rocketed into the vertical horizontal launch tube and fired into a vertical arch.
Great crackling electrical coils raged as it completed its ascent and exploded out into the open space of the Sky vaults aerodome, the New York Neutrons Sky runners throttled their jet packs and raced after the sphere as their Centurion Counterparts swooped to stop them.

The Neutrons Doug McCall soared past the opposition snatching the ball from their grasp, completed a bone crunching backward arch and slammed the ball into the Centurions Sky Goal.

Watching the fury from immense screens the crowd went crazy

As play paused Burnham strode past Huff, knocking him aside “You asshole” he growled

***
The Electric Stadium – VIP Suite – New York
Tony Larcomonni chewed his significant cigar, launched into riotous clapping and growled his appreciation at the Sky Goal, the half moon window before him affording his and other most distinguished guests the closest and best view in the stadium.

As the Trans World Chronicles Director of Sports Coverage, Tony was an influential man and as such got see the best games from the myriad of sports his Division covered.
Gernsbacks electro Speedball ranked as one of his favourite wacky sports, only a technocracy could think of a sport with magnetically boosted players and jetpacks, plus the readers loved the coverage.

“Did you get that?” he quickly asked the two camera men, their covers being Network technicians they recorded for both the locals and secretly for Homeline.
The Neutrons were reassembling for the Centurions Offence, taking the pause in proceedings he turned to two of his Sports Journos, and gave them a patronising smile.

James McFadden and Mike Eldridge sat in slightly less preferential seats, Larcomonni couldn’t help himself but to break into chastising laughter at their misfortune, in reality the Journos annoyed him always whining about their commission and bonuses, big egos and child like tempers.
Still they were a necessary evil, without all the drama and hunger they wouldn’t get the coverage which made Trans World Sports the biggest and most profitable division of the Chronicle. Still it gave him an enormous sense of satisfaction when they fell from grace and had to eat humble pie, as well as giving him a great excuse to trim their bonuses and have them be grateful for him doing that.

“So you pair of Fuckwitts have got a Supervision Order slapped on you” Tony drew in a sharp intake of breath, looking around thoughtfully to ensure that nobody local was paying too much attention.
Both Journos knew what was coming “We’ll its going to cost you”
Both braced “How much?” Mike answered
“Well to cover the admin and HR costs going to have to be a 30% downgrade”
“That’s bullshit” spat James a little too quickly.
“Take it or leave it” replied Tony his voice now containing an edge to it and the smile having tightened
“Either that or I do nothing and you two are last season, reporting on kindergarden softball, good luck paying for your condos”
Both Journos nodded in resignation
“Gets better though” added Tony with a degree of glee returning to his voice
“Hows that” said James warily
“Well it does for Mike anyway, as he’s only got two cautions after we’ve done all the running around!” Tony turned and regarded the pair to emphasise the point
“The V&P are willing to allow him a probationary period unsupervised for three months, keep your nose clean and every things sweet!”
Jame’s jaw tightened as he saw Mike’s smug smile
“You on the other hand are shit out of Luck, four cautions you get a Supervisor to assess you on your ability to not contaminate other Worldlines with bullshit”

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Post by arcanus » Mon Apr 09, 2012 11:02 pm

Asgard - Divergence Point: 780AD, Viking Scalds discover Rune Magic, they use this to battle the Linorms and Trolls in the Northern Icelands.
Current Affairs: 819AD the Scandinavian Kingdoms are subject to Civil War as the Christine Danes battle the Norwegian Aesir, in order to wipe out the Old Gods.
Moldefjord, Norway
The whiteout had reduced visibility to less than a few meters, Infinity Officer Raug Swafgen thanked his lucky stars for his thermal armour, he had however lost any sense of feeling in his cheeks, despite his facemask.
He swept the stark white terrain, switching to his goggles thermal functionality and flexing his fingers within his gauntlets, radio was down or angry bees on the circuit.
Pushing himself off his rocky vantage point he slowly completed a perimeter circuit, he kept an eye out for Graves wary that in the blizzard they could shoot each other.

***
Julian Leibalaski stroked the screen of his portacomp as if it were a pet, he watched the serpent Linorn as it winged its way majestically over the Barents Sea.
Fortunately the 20 meter dragon hadn’t noticed his UAV following it and capturing not only its flight but also its form, its unnatural physique, all captured in Ultra Definition for the Infinite Nature section of The Chronicle.

“Shit you’re giving me the creeps, you rub that monster anymore you’ll spaff in your pants!”
Julian brushed his lank and overly long fringe from his eyes and turned to regard his research assistant Corey Frinz who was almost certainly the crudest woman he’d ever met.
“You are so gross” he said shaking his head, Corey for her part chuckled evilly popping the remainder of her Twinkie in her mouth having returned to her console.
“I gotta take a piss” she grunted between chews
“You gotta be joking its minus 20 out there!”
“Oh man up” she retorted pulling on her thermals, as she did Julian took a seedy moment to savour her arse, Corey was one of those grungy girls who’d be really attractive if she cleaned up and acted a bit more girly, but she was a laugh
He shivered as she unzipped the inner layer of the dome, resealing she then broke the outer seal and stepped into the white maelstrom
Julian returned to the motion capture of the Linorn as it approached the Svalbard coast.

Corey quickly pulled her thermal mask up tight to her goggles, she tapped her commlink
“Raug, Bob you out there?”

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Post by arcanus » Wed Apr 11, 2012 10:11 pm

Moldefjord, Norway
Sheets of chunky arctic snow cut across Raug’s vision, he shook his head to unsettle the layer that had built up on his hood, tapping the side of his goggles he brought the teams signal locators up onto the corner of his vision.

He frowned, two readings, someone must have left the dome.
He grumbled about protocol, they should have contacted Bob and himself before stepping out.
Looking at the blizzard he realised that they probably tried and hadn't got through.

He completed the perimeter circle heading for the nearest reading and almost tripped.
His reaction was fortunately swift the ridge of snow he had almost fallen over had a scattering of red around it, no time to unshoulder his carbine so he drew his sidearm.

He caught the movement to his rear left at the edge of his thermographic sight, turning and watched trying to discern whether it was a researcher or something worse.
The figure was moving too quickly and deliberately, holding his pistol with a two handed marksman grip Raug snapped up and double tapped the charging figure with the 10mm.

He spun as the blizzard disgorged another figure again putting two rounds into their head and chest, spinning he fired again and then again before taking a breath.
“Dritt” he breathed
Eight rounds down, he slid the clip out without looking down, replacing it with a full one
He watched the swirling snow flakes their frenzied movement almost matching the ferocity of the attack, slowly rotating the next charge still caught him off guard.
The figure appeared out of the flurry an arm’s length in front of him lunging, Raug felt the blade slide past his ribcage as he fired point blank into his attackers face.

He watched the body fall slowly away, not daring to look down until his nerves settled, the blade had sliced through his suit, slid off his armour and missed any flesh or bone.
He became alert again slowly turning around again and again, watching for any thermal readings, he did this for a good five minutes, before Raug relaxed.
Adrenaline and fear washed from his body as he breathed out and slowly crouched over the snow covered form, dusting the covering away he saw what he sadly expected to see, the body of his partner Bob Graves, he’d been attacked from behind and run through two or three times.

“Faen” he swore

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Re: The Chronicle

Post by arcanus » Fri Apr 13, 2012 10:19 pm

Asgard - Divergence Point: 780AD, Viking Scalds discover Rune Magic, they use this to battle the Linorms and Trolls in the Northern Icelands.
Current Affairs: 819AD the Scandinavian Kingdoms are subject to Civil War as the Christine Danes battle the Norwegian Aesir, in order to wipe out the Old Gods.
Moldefjord, Norway
Corey stumbled through the knee deep snow “Bob, Raug damnit!”
The enviro-dome was a state of the art piece of equipment, however it did have one design flaw, in that its internal seal to its lavatory was prone to jamming.
This required the occupants to exit the dome via the main seal and then enter the toilet via its external seal, having completed this Corey grumbled as she finished her business.

Exiting she was about to call yet again for the security when a blow struck her in the face, with such ferocity it sent her reeling in utter shock.
Momentarily Corey blacked out, as she returned to consciousness a pair of hands grabbed her and roughly dragged her to her feet, she screamed futilely at the blizzard and her attacker, as he struck her again, grabbed her hair and dragged her a short distance.

Corey tried to fight but her attacker merely struck her again, no mere slap but savage punches to the side of her head, before throwing her to the ground, stunned she gasped in horror as her thermals were ripped off her, then her pants and she was held down.
She could smell a rank combination of hide, body odour and animal fat.

Corey sobbed through the pain and fear as several unseen attackers forced themselves upon her, taking the time to deliver a beating throughout.

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Re: The Chronicle

Post by arcanus » Fri Apr 13, 2012 10:20 pm

Moldefjord, Norway
Raug’s attention returned from his murdered partner to the present, he stood surveying the continuing fury as the snow whipped around him, thermographic revealed nothing but blue cold.

The first blow caught him with a downward stroke that almost severed his head from his shoulders, however the blow failed to complete the job and Raug emitted a horrendous squealing like that of a stuck pig.
His killer finished the job, another downward swing and Raug lay dead his life’s arterial blood squirting a full 6 feet from his headless corpse staining the snow like some macabre angel.

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Re: The Chronicle

Post by arcanus » Fri Apr 13, 2012 10:21 pm

Moldefjord, Norway
The inside of the dome was a cosy 22 degrees and Julian had very little interest in going anywhere near outside, even if that meant crossing his legs.
The serpent Linorn had landed, preened and then taken off again, it was currently harassing a colony of cormorants, Julian reached for a fresh bag of cheesy tortilla chips, in doing so he glanced down at the circuit camera, through the constant blizzard of angry snowflakes he saw what he thought was red on the ground.
Scrambling he knocked over his coffee, scattered equipment and sent his chair flying.

“Corey, Raug, Bob, guys what’s going on?”
Silence
“Guys?”
Silence
“COREY FOR GODS SAKE, STOP PISSING AROUND!”
“COREY!”

Julian watched in horror as through the domes camera several figures strode out of the blizzard, each dressed in wolfskins, bronze scale armour and leather hide.
Each had long hair beneath their pot helms, complete with nasal bars, each had a look of savagery and hatred and proceeded to attack the dome.
Shaking himself from the paralyzing grip of fearful disbelief, he stumbled across the space and activated the domes defences, its inner layer of reinforced bands interlinking to form an armoured shell, the only downside being it now prevented Julian from using the door or seal.
Not that Julian had any intention of going outside.

He knew now that his team mates were undoubtedly dead, he hurriedly prepared a datapacket, a distress call and loaded it in the Conveyer pod, he watched the muted light flash from within the cylinder - firing the packet into the cosmos.

The attackers had failed to significantly harm the dome, apart from shredding its thermal layer a fact apparent to Julian by the rapidly dropping temperature.
However the noise was deafening and filled him with terror, Julian curled himself into a ball and cried, still the hammering raged on and on.

Silence descended, slowly Julian looked up, his hair plastered to his face with sweat.
Why had it gone quiet, it was a while longer before he picked himself up and warily approached the circuit camera, gone the figures were nowhere to be seen.

Julian tried to switch to other cameras but they either weren’t functioning or destroyed.
It appeared that the armour of dome had deterred the attackers, Julian breathed a sigh of relief.
It was short lived as an ear-splitting crack roared through the dome, piercing light and concussive force tore through the inside, picking Julian up and hurling him into the equipment.
As the smoke cleared Julian groaned, turning he looked up, fear washed through him as he looked into the grim face of one of the attackers.

“Hei lille mannen” snarled the warrior as he grabbed Julian and dragged him from the dome.

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Re: The Chronicle

Post by arcanus » Sat Apr 14, 2012 9:26 am

Asgard - Divergence Point: 780AD, Viking Scalds discover Rune Magic, they use this to battle the Linorms and Trolls in the Northern Icelands.
Current Affairs: 819AD the Scandinavian Kingdoms are subject to Civil War as the Christine Danes battle the Norwegian Aesir, in order to wipe out the Old Gods.
Moldefjord, Norway - The Next Day
The blizzard had cleared, leaving a pure landscape of pristine winter snow.
The blanket of white ran unblemished to the very tops of the Forde, which then descended down into the icy Norwegian sea.
The white beauty concealed a horrible scene beneath it, one that Captain Omar didn’t want to uncover but knew he must, his white thermosuit concealed his immaculate blue I-Cop uniform.

He’d crouched over the snow covered lump, a form belied the corpse beneath.
His attention was drawn to the distortion in the air, as air was sucked out of this World and replaced with mass, the Conveyer had been built into an armoured snowcat which materialised upon the incline above him.

His conveyer was a two man enclosed power sled that resembled a white bullet on skis.
Lieutenant Kraus climbed out of the cat, followed by six I-Cop troopers, who quickly set up a perimeter.
Omar’s own man, Officer Gruer had already begun the gruesome task of unearthing the bodies.

Kraus saluted, which brought a smirk from the Captain instead he extended his hand and shook the lieutenants, after all they weren’t soldiers.
“Kraus I-Cop Security Division”
“Omar Justice Division” the Captain replied

The pleasantries over Kraus’s face blanched as he started to take in the unfolding horror, particularly as the headless corpse was uncovered, a grotesque fountain of crimson ice exploded outwards from the body.

Omar turned to business, “The team was four in total?”
Kraus didn’t respond for moment, before his attention snapped back to the matter in hand
“Four in total, two Security detail and two Journos from the Chronicle”
“Security seems light for a R5 Worldline”
Kraus looked uncomfortable “Unfortunately we have limited numbers, they were in a safe zone, the Scouts hadn’t spotted anyone for 50 klicks” a defensive tone creeping into his voice
“Lieutenant I’m not here to bust your balls, just establishing how four Homeline citizens have been killed!” Omar replied with a quiet level tone
Kraus seemed to relax a little, a small degree of tension leaving him

Gruer stepped up to the pair, Omar turned and awaited his findings
“Three bodies, one caught by surprise all wounds to his back, the headless corpse, looks like he put up a fight, his clips empty plus another empty on his webbing, third was dragged out of the dome, beaten then staked down, froze to death” his voice a smooth Southern drawl
“We’re looking for four” replied Omar
“I’ll sweep again, the three bodies are all male”
“Shit” swore Kraus
Omar looked at the Security man, who had keyed up his tablet phone, tapping the screen he brought up the profiles of the team
“Omar, a female researcher” he bent closer and squinted his eyes “Corey Frinz”
He turned back to Gruer “Your sure she’s not here?”
“I’ll double check sir, but I don’t think so, unless they dumped her further out” he immediately set back out to scouring the snow
In the meantime Omar had returned to the sled, he activated a cylinder around the size of a large vacuum flask, vocalised into it, checked the coordinates and confirmed on the touch screen, a flash of light travelled from the bottom of the unit to the top and the message was transmitted.

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Re: The Chronicle

Post by arcanus » Sat Apr 14, 2012 8:44 pm

Asgard - Divergence Point: 780AD, Viking Scalds discover Rune Magic, they use this to battle the Linorms and Trolls in the Northern Icelands.
Current Affairs: 819AD the Scandinavian Kingdoms are subject to Civil War as the Christine Danes battle the Norwegian Aesir, in order to wipe out the Old Gods.
Moldefjord, Norway - The Next Day
The following day an Aurora Borealis wove through the ice blue sky, golden motes of light materialising into a swirling sphere, snow blew up into a cloud and within the mass appeared a ship. A long ship but not Norse in construction, more Celtic or even akin to a Greek galley, the ground crunched and heaved as the vessel settled.

Appearing from a newly erected tent Kraus blinked in disbelief, stepping out to allow Captain Omar to exit, nursing his coffee the Captain started to stroll up the slope towards the ship. A large if not huge man appeared on deck, he nursed a iron flagon throwing the slops down into the snow.
Despite the minus ten chill all he wore was a kilt, fur cloak and large brass and steel bandoleer, the hilt of a very large sword protruded over his left shoulder, a great mane of black hair ran over his shoulders, hard eyes and an even harder face.

Others appeared upon the deck, a figure completely hidden beneath a cloak and hood stood ominously to one side, a second shorter warrior with long blond hair and the fourth man of eastern European if not Arabic origin.
The big man stepped down the gang plank gesturing for the hooded one to move, Kraus watched as the hooded one loped down and started to dart around the killing zone.

Kraus caught Omar’s arm before he reached the summit, “Mercenaries” he said
The Captain looked at him “As you said Lieutenant, we haven’t the manpower, nor the expertise” with that he trudged on, reaching the big man, who stood and regarded him with a sneer

“Thorn” he said, the big warrior grunted, he looked around sniffing the air
Omar knew how to play the game, and also looked around nonchalantly, until the warrior regarded him with a piercing gaze
“So why are we here police man” the warrior growled, his eyes boring into the I-Cop
Omar looked at his fingernails before finally regarding him, the warrior stepped forwards threateningly
Omar ignored this “A team attacked, slaughtered, one of them is missing!”
“So”
“So we need her found”
“Her, a woman!” he growled, the warrior nicknamed Thorn surveyed the scene, “She’s dead or a slave, if it’s the second then she already wishes she were dead!”
“Nether the less I want her found and brought back!”
Thorn spat and swore in a tongue that Omar didn’t recognise

The hooded figure loped over, leaned close to Thorn and growled a series of snarls,
Kraus had by this time joined Omar, Gruer stood a respectful distance behind.
Thorn turned to the three I-Cops, “They were attacked by nine Norsemen, he pointed to where the headless corpse had been found, he slew five of them before they cut him down”
“They pillaged the woman over there, her spoor sits upon the earth”
Kraus scowled in disgust at the warriors callousness
“What of his head” replied Omar unperturbed
Thorn leaned towards the hooded one, who snarled some more “They took it with them, their tribute for bringing down a warrior”
“Jesus” snarled Kraus

Omar looked at Thorn “I want the girl and the head”
Thorn looked at the I-Cop “It is a waste of time”
“The girl and the head!” repeated Omar
Thorn shrugged “A lot of gold and mead for this one”
“Yes”
The warrior smirked, turned and barked in the same guttural tongue as he’d used earlier
His companions assembled, each apparently ready to depart, it occurred to Gruer that they’d known he’d agree all along

“Thorn, they’ll be someone joining you” said Omar as he gestured to a figure stood in arctic gear, next to their tent, Thorn exchanged as disdainful look with his companions
“They’re the ones with the gold, Thorn, you need to play nice!”
The figure jogged up the slope, a broad shouldered man, who immediately stuck out his hand, the warriors looked at it as if he had a palm full of shit
“David Fairbourne” he said hopefully “From the Chronicle!”
Thorn glared at Omar, who shrugged
Fairbourne turned to the hooded one, spotting watery ice blue eyes staring out at him, again extending his hand
“Hi I’m….”
The hooded one lunged, his cowl falling revealing a distantly humanoid face, one with wolfen features and fangs, Fairbourne stumbled back as Thorn caught the creature, swung him around and threw him into the restraining arms of the other warriors
He stepped up to Fairbourne “You keep up or you die” he grunted before gesturing for the warpack to move

“Thorn!” said Omar, moving to catch him away from the other I-Cops
The big warrior turned to look at him “They suffer, bring ruin upon their houses”
Thorn regarded the sudden savagery in the I-Cops face and simply nodded, he took off piston like legs carrying him into a withering jog, one that Fairbourne had to maintain from the off.

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Post by arcanus » Thu Jun 28, 2012 2:41 pm

Gernsback, 1965 - Divergence Point: 1893; Nikola Tesla marries Anne Morgan, the daughter of financier J.P. Morgan, and thus remains sane enough to invent radio and broadcast power with Morgan financing.
Current Affairs: The World Science Council puts down all threats to techno-utopia in the fantastic World of the Future!
Daytona International Skyway – Daytona Beach – Florida.
The Electro Pulse racer hit 17Gs as it cut across the ferro track, intense electro magnetic waves pulsed vertically striking the fuselage of the racer pushing it up, the driver angled his altitude by de-magnetising the underside of the racer.

The Wipeout racers could achieve altitudes of 4 meters, however top height induced greater drag and slowed them, too low and the magnetic currents turbulence bounced it around.
Jimmy Lee Capps adjusted his side fins to upward tilt, his screen showing pulse waves of energy exploding in upward arcs from both sides of the racer, he flattened the deflector panels on the nose pushing the nose up and accelerated.
Magnetic fields bunched around him as the racer reached 25Gs and a colossal 3000mph, tight goggles protected his most vulnerable eyeballs, he hit the upward climb of the Daytona track rocketing up the fourth vertical ramp.

His rivals were just behind him, he cut across the track barring their acceleration past him, he quickly compensated as the nearest nudged his right fin, any error wouldn’t just shunt him hundreds of meters it would smash him into the track.

The racers surged over the back of the ramp, the more inexperienced drivers wobbling as they levelled out from the jump, the more experienced including Jimmy pitching their racers nose downwards and accelerating into the curvature of the ramps bottom.

Three cars wiped out, miscalculating the millisecond fin and deflector adjustment required to surf the bottom curve, keeping their noses down too long and literally driving into the floor.
Jimmy pulled an old trick, a deflector shuffle rapidly revolving the deflector plates to make the car bounce over the curve and maintaining acceleration.

***
Daytona International Skyway VIP Suite – Daytona Beach – Florida.
The flight from New York had taken a mere half an hour by strato jetliner.
James McFadden and Mike Eldridge nervously travelled with their boss Tony Larcomonni, this was part of the walk of shame, to have to travel with him whilst he admonished them about their failings. That and the fact that Tony loved Gernsbach sports, Daytona Wipeout anti-grav racing being a close second to speedball.

The Daytona VIP suite was more than a mere viewing room, it was the size of a dance hall and whilst the spear like racers thundered around the impossibly elevated track a dinner party was in full swing.

The party was a full Outworlder do, with Chronicle bigwigs and their favourites circulating.
Jimmy found himself a little ostracised and alone, when he turned and bumped into a garish looking man in top and tails, complete with stockings up to his knees and peacock feathers projecting from his shoulder pads.
Jimmy was in little mood for flakes and glared at the man, who returned his glare through a monocle eye.
“What are you some kind of fag!” Jimmy snarled
“I beg your pardon” replied the man, his jowls wobbling
“You heard, you bat for the other side!” Jimmy could feel all of the anger and frustration of the past few days surfacing having now found a suitable target
The man however seemed to compose himself smoothing back his thin oiled hair and gave Jiimy an haughty look “Why don’t you like Queens!” he replied smiling
“No” grunted Jimmy
The man adopted a patronising smile and the eyebrow above his monocle raised to epic proportions
“Who do you work for?” he asked
“None of your damn business”
“This is tiresome, who do you work for?” the man asked a little more forcefully
“The Chronicle” Jimmy grunted
“Don’t be an idiot man, we all work for the Chronicle, which division?”
“He works for Sports and Leisure Leo!” came Tony’s voice from nowhere
Tony’s impressive stature suddenly eclipsed both men
“James allow me to introduce Leo De Champ, Editor in Chief of Le Mode, which as you’ll know is the Chronicles Fashion and Lifestyle division” Jimmy’s face went pale, his jaw almost hitting the floor
“Your young man was just telling me how he doesn’t like homosexuals” chuckled Leo, all the while giving Jimmy an icy look, he received no aid from Tony who arm around Leo’s shoulders led him off to the champagne table while giving Jimmy a look that could well and truly kill.

“Way to go sport, you just insulted the most powerful man in Fashion and Lifestyle” said Mike from the buffet table beside Jimmy.

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Re: The Chronicle

Post by arcanus » Sun Aug 19, 2012 10:43 pm

Asgard - Divergence Point: 780AD, Viking Scalds discover Rune Magic, they use this to battle the Linorms and Trolls in the Northern Icelands.
Current Affairs: 819AD the Scandinavian Kingdoms are subject to Civil War as the Christine Danes battle the Norwegian Aesir, in order to wipe out the Old Gods.
Moldefjord, Norway.
Fairbourne was bone weary, the warpack had maintained its relentless pace through the day and into the early hours of the following morning.
Now he sat upon the top of a slope his breathing slowly returning to normal, the pains diminishing from his muscles and bones, his shinbones were killing him.

***
The hunter approached its prey without a slow cautious movement, instead she prowled and then moved with swift bursts, her intended prey seemingly
stupidly oblivious to her advance.
She shook her head, this one was stupid the snow flurry around them was relatively light, not really obscuring things if you cared to look, she slowly drew her Spatha,
a sword design that hadn’t changed since the Legions had ruled Gaul.

This one would die slowly!

The sword stroke caught her across her throat severing her vocal cords and ensuring her death was silent, she stumbled back in disbelief before her killer kicked her back down the slope.
The blonde warrior sprinted down the slope, his longsword swinging down to catch the next Norseman across his thighs and then splitting his face in two.
Eòdor bounced into a spring and then leapt into the centre of the approaching norsemen, he wove between the four warriors, each skilled in the art of killing yet unable to land a blow.
His stokes were clean and each dispatched in a single stroke, such was his craft

The warpack had been posted to deal with pursuers, upon spying the interloper they’d split into two groups, the second of which charged down from their cover upon a neighbouring slope.
One man had slain five of their number they would drink from his skull, however behind them a large figure rose from beneath the snow.
The last of their number was yanked off his feet by two huge hands gripping his head and wrenching him bodily into the air snapping his neck and spine in half a dozen places.

Arrows sailed across the downward arc of the snowy gully dropping the forward Norse pair, uncustomed to the tables being turned in battle the remaining norseman slowed looking about, this was all the time the warrior required.
Descending amongst them the warrior snapped the latter pairs necks before they’d gained their bearings, the next was snapped over his knee and the last Viking was kicked clear across the gully floor, several ribs splintering in the process.

Fairbourne watched as the blond swordsman Eòdor made his way past the huge figure of Thorn, he circled upon the Viking like a shark, drawing a pair of long thin curved daggers.

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Post by arcanus » Mon Aug 20, 2012 10:38 pm

Downtown Vancouver - Homeline 2027
Momentarily Adam Sarcum’s attention was drawn from the Chief Editors meeting out to the Bay.
It was standard stuff review of previous weeks earnings and market share, the usual nuclear armistice to gain prime space of both digital and hardcopy print and review of forthcoming features.

As he stood to leave Bob Cleaver Editorial Director stopped him
“What’s up Adam?” he started
Adam shook his head, settling into one of the offices sofas “I’m fine Bob” he smiled
“Don’t get me wrong History’s figures were really up there, The Boards impressed with what your doing”
“So” he replied cautiously
“Relax Adam, so hidden agendas, just one of my Chief Editors is quite in the blood and guts”
“Got a few Journos missing in the field”
“No word from Annette?” asked Cleaver
Adam tensed how was his boss aware of the wayward Miss Garrett “No none”
“She’ll turn up”
“Hope so, good Journos don’t grow on trees”
Cleaver chuckled and Adam relaxed “Really” he responded
Sarcum stood to leave “Not ones with the brains needed for Historical”, with that he excused himself and headed back to his department.

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Post by arcanus » Wed Nov 14, 2012 2:31 pm

Northerly Island, Chicago – Homeline
Constructed on the site of the former Meigs Field Airport, beside the Charter One music Pavilion stood the reconstruction of the 1933 World Fair building, its three triangular towers extending from the art deco glass hall beneath.

A considerable amount of the building and its exhibits had been salvaged from Worldlines where the Expo had come to an end and was being dismantled, White Star Traders had proved very adept in purchasing a treasure trove from 1930s sellers who were all to glad to get a good price.

Its construction was pure nostalgia, officially part of Museum Campus, a celebration of both Chi Towns illustrious history and Homelines transworld power, its ability to retrieve the past.
Jimmy McFadden looked up at the towers, sighed and alighted the steps passing through the chrome gilded glass doors, entering the atrium he was greeted with facets of modern technology.
Two thirty foot tall screens, each unit split into two screens one above the other, Sally Rand dancing her fan dance, Italo Balbo's arrival on Lake Michigan in his flotilla of 24 flying boats, the arrival of the Graf Zeppelin and Judy Garland singing.

He snorted in contempt, he’d lost a fortune in missed sports coverage in the past few days due to having to jump through hoops, now he had to come to this relic to meet his supervisor.
At least that was one plus, at least he could get moving now, get back to what he did best, reporting on sport.

He strolled through the halls looking at the exhibits with distain, the so called future of the 1930s looked like some much art deco junk, even the hollering tones of Miss Garland grated, ‘Give me some Pumping Base Beat, R&B or Trance any time’ he thought as he approached the illuminated section of the exhibition hall.

To his left stood an authentic Vegas boxing ring, a figure danced within the darkness, shadow boxing, another figure sat upon the bonnet of a Duesenberg Phantom, again in shadow.
He ignored the one on the car, instead going for the obviously male figure in the ring,
“hey buddy I’m looking for my supervisor” the very words stuck in his throat

The figure gestured and warily Jimmy stepped past the ropes, he cautiously strolled towards the brawny figure that bounced in the centre of the canvas, his eyes narrowed.
As he got a better look at the figure he saw a man in his mid to late fifties, massing some 230 pounds of muscle and brawn, starting to turn to flab, he had the look of a fighter, long broken nose, a head full of pure white hair cut in a vaguely military style.

“I’ve seen this flick, old guy is faster then he looks and beats the shit out of the cocky young guy” he said with a heavy hint of sarcasm
In return the man danced back into the shadows ignoring him, boxing with invisible opponents
“For fucks sake” Jimmy hissed under his breath “People are just trying to push my buttons”

“I think you do a good enough job without other people” don’t you Jimmy, carried a female voice
Jimmy spun spotlights clicked on further illuminating the Phaeton, for a moment he nodded in appreciation one thing they did in the 30s was built nice cars, slightly spoiled by the arty slut sat on its bonnet.

He strolled over to the rope and looked at the woman “Who the fuck are you?” he snarled
“Your answer to everything” she chuckled
The woman was dressed in a mixture of an ethnic African blouse, tan trousers and a Native American shawl, her brown ringlets woven into several plaits on the side of her head.
She was attractive in a kooky way, thin angular features and pale skin, accented by the redness of her auburn hair, but she wasn’t swimwear and Jimmy only did swimwear.

“Question still stands” he said moodily
“I’m your Supervisor Mr McFadden”
Sheer cold rage passed through Jimmy, he stood glowering at her “Pardon” he said finally
The woman seemed delighted and hopped off the bonnet
“You work for Infinity?” he said incredulously
“No I work for La Mode” she twinkled
Jimmy’s face screwed up as he struggled to remember something, something on the edge of his memory “La Mode, La Mode” he muttered
“The culture and fashion division of the Chronicle, the second biggest earner in the company”
“Third” he responded absently “History’s second”
“That’s debatable and seasonal” she responded a little more seriously
“LA MODE that’s the paper that….”
“My father works for, yes” she finished for him
“Your father, what that guy, no, he’s…”
“Gay, well and truly I’m afraid” she again laughed
“What the fuck qualifies you, some jumped up daddies girl, to supervise me!”
“Bet your not even a proper journo” he snarled, just as he felt a tap on the shoulder

Jimmy had expected this and a childhood of Tai kick boxing prompted him to rotate his leg into a spin kick and turn, the old guy was quick and bounced back away from the kick, as Jimmy’s leg extended he darted back in and slammed a punch into his inside thigh.
Jimmy roared with pain, before his leg cramped he jabbed Jimmy in the face, then again before delivering an upper cut.
Jimmy bounced off the rope and smashed into the canvas, through his bloody drool he grumbled “I fuckin knew it”
“No this is the bit where the old guy beats some manners into you punk!” said the old man, crouching near him
From the side of the ring the woman looked him in the eye “I suppose your mouth getting you beaten up was inevitable really" she said icily "My names Charlotte De Champ and like it not James, you’re going where Frank and I go and we get to say whether you can go out to play without your reigns, kapeesh!”

Jimmy just groaned

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Post by arcanus » Wed Nov 14, 2012 9:08 pm

Number One Penn Plaza - New York
Tony Larcomonni ‘s office occupied the north east corner of the 55th Floor of the One Pen Plaza, strategically positioned so that he had a prime view of both the East River and Madison Square Garden I. Infinity Incorporated had purchased the tower from the real estate magnate Leona Helmsley in 1999 and the Chronicle Sports Division had leased floors 50 to 55 since 2015.

As Director of Trans World Sports Coverage Tony effectively ran the New York office, including its proprietary rights to sports and entertainment in both the Madison Square Garden stadiums. He had just finished his latest teleconference with the VP as he heard the ruckus in his offices reception.

As the sleek mirror black door swung open he had moved to his aluminium and chrome drinks cabinet, finished to such a standard as to resemble immaculately crafted platinum or silver. He finished pouring two Tennessee whiskeys before turning and gesturing to James McFadden towards one of his leather armchairs to sit down.

He couldn’t help but grin, Jimmy’s face was black and blue, swollen with a cut lip.
“What the hell happened to you?” Tony asked innocently
“As if you didn’t fucking know” retorted Jimmy
“Yeah your right I do know”
Jimmy snarled at him “An this is alright with you!” he said incredulously pointing to his face
“Yeah, no less then you deserve” Tony raised a finger to silence the forthcoming vitriol
“Franks a good guy, so if you got a pasting then you were undoubtedly your normal fucking stupid ignorant self, let me guess you were rude to Charlotte?”
Jimmy grimaced in embarrassment “I might have been a little out of turn”
“So you caught the train up here, because I’ve stopped your expense account to have it out with me, that right”
“Look Tony I’ve leant my lesson, best behaviour, you’ve never been this hard before!”
Tony’s mask of patronising amusement slid from his large face, rubbing a equally large hand over his bald head he stood and stalked his 6’5 frame over to the polarised office windows.

Reflecting for a moment he turned and leant over his desk, placing both his hands apart looming towards Jimmy menacingly “I’m glad you’ve had a tantrum and come to see me Jimmy, because know I can explain the fucking anguish you and your cretinous colleagues cause me”
Jimmy gulped
“See a few years back the infringements were relatively minor, that or the I-cops didn’t have the time or tech to check things that thoroughly, but they’ve caught up plus you idiots have got slack, I don’t mind fast and loose but a kid Jimmy for crying out loud”

“So now when one of you decides to play the big man with the fabric of time and space, the I-Cops senior brass summon me to fucking Canada, man I hate Canada and do you know what they do when I get there Jimmy!”
Jimmy winced
“DO YOU!”
“No boss!” he replied

“They show me films of global wars, of planetary holocausts, of economic collapse and they point out that’s what your arrogant Journos are risking by fucking around with the Secret, they don’t drag you up there, no me the Head of Operations for the East Coast, the Director of Content!” Tony extended to his full height and glared at Jimmy.
“Now if I decided to have a tantrum like you lot, if I decided not to go or send someone on my behalf, you know what they say!”
“No” replied Jimmy wearily
“That they’ll revoke our Trans-world licence, not just Sports the whole of the fucking Chronicles licence”
“They can’t do that, your fucking joking” Jimmy snorted
“Do I look like I’m joking James and yes they can, because they control the means of getting there, it’s their train set!, as you can imagine the Board strangely didn’t want to take the risk”

“So in short James you will obey anything and everything Infinity asks you to do or give me your notice now!, your fucking lucky I didn’t just fire you and you should be kissing my ring for swinging Charlotte and Frank to assess you instead of some balls of steel I-Cop, course your too fucking stupid to work that out!” Tony took a seat behind his desk, framed by the east Manhattan skyline.
“Of course if this kids birth does change the timeline of that Worldline your on a one way trip to Coventry, and there’s jack shit I would be able to do to stop that!”

Jimmy sighed, he felt very tired
“So James it comes down to two things first you keep everything hidden, that little thing called the Secret, second you keep your dick in your pants off world, now repeat after me keep the secret and keep your dick in your pants”

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Post by arcanus » Fri Dec 21, 2012 2:44 pm

Jevnaker, Norway
Jevnaker was a large Viking town sitting beneath the shadow of the Svarttjernshøgda Mountain, its slopes and pine forests wrapped in a blanket of pure snow.
The towns waterfront looking onto The Begna River, the town was bustling with trade a centre of Old Norse so far too Northerly to be affected by the Christian Danes.
Its population swelled even further by a gathering of warbands, a small army of Vikings meeting for a Moot, under the leadership of Kroa Thodir, Runechild of Lund The Bloodaxe, warchief of the Southern Vald.

Although it was barely midday drunken revelry and brawling was rife throughout its muddy streets.

Eive looked around with both a mixture of interest and excitement, violence and challenge permeated the air of the town, Vadan Odrolf on the other hand looked at the warriors with distain, this was the Viking that the warriors of Christ wished to destroy.

A large group had gathered down at the riverfront, there was considerable jeering, ‘Slaves’ Vadan thought and started to move through the throng.
Pushing himself to the front he grimaced as he spied Kroa, the spoilt son, a common murderer granted power by his fathers pride, the commotion was over a collection of women all of Southern blood, many not Norse, a bedraggled bunch all raped and beaten.

His eyes widened as he spotted one girl, her skin was darker than the others, perhaps Persian and the remnants of her cloths a vibrant blue.
“Odin’s Teeth” Vadan swore, such clothes were the mark of a noble, but there was something else about her, something that troubled him greatly.
Thorgeisson had been confident that the Nóregr would hold if not defeat the Christians however their journey south had shown only retreat, in fact from what he had heard they were conceding ground without battle.

As an Erilaz Vadan saw the shadows of the eight realms that were joined to Midgard, he saw the motes of Odins Touch dance around the Persian girl, he saw no marks of power upon her but more that she had been somewhere where the Touch had immersed her.

“Something troubles you Elder?” asked Targ Larsten
Vadan nodded his gaze not leaving the girl, her head hung low, beaten and bruised
“We must consult with Dragnar” and turned to leave
“NOTHING TO SEE FOR YOU SEER!” a voice boomed, Vadan turned looking directly at Kroa, he gestured to the slave girls “BENEATH YOU THIS!”
The assembled warriors now moved to encircle Vadan and Targ, jostling began and several landed blows on Targ, a whirl of violent motion followed the nearest Vikings to Targ yelping and stumbling back as daggers sliced their faces or hands, nothing grievous just enough to encourage caution.

Vadan silenced any further brawling with a stony glare at the surrounding men, before walking back toward the log stage on which Kroa stood.
“I have business elsewhere War Chief” he replied
“STARING INTO ANIMAL GUTS AND USELESS STONES NO DOUBT” the thuggish Kroa returned, inciting an oafish chuckle from the mob, Vadan didn’t reply, merely meeting the indolent younger man with a stony stare that eventually made him feel uncomfortable.
Kroa sprang from his wooden throne, barrelling the slave girls aside “YOU WOULD CHALLENGE ME DOG” he stormed
Vadan smirked, Kroa’s eyes widened in pure rage, his hand playing across his swords hilt
“My Lord” a cowled advisor imposed himself at the edge of the stage
“WHAT” snarled Kroa
“Herre Vadan is a Clan Chief, this would be a formal challenge, a Blod Duel”
“SO”
“If Herre Vadan were to defeat you, there could be no vengeance and ah”
“AND WHAT” snapped the War Chief
“You would be spurned from Valhalla, Hel would welcome you!”
“HE WOULD NOT DEFEAT ME I AM ONE OF THE RUNA BESKRIVS, INVULNERABLE IN BATTLE!” Kroa grinned madly
The advisor looked somewhat fearfully at Vadan “Of course my Herre, your fathers wrath would be great” Kroa looked at the old man in disgust, then turned and flung himself back into his throne.

Vadan turned and accompanied by Targ the pair strode from the gathering unmolested.

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Post by arcanus » Tue Jan 01, 2013 8:54 pm

Orkla Mining Conveyor Station I – The City of Bodo, Norway, Homeline
The Parachronic Technicians watched as the Conveyor completed its countdown, its payload dematerializing within the sealed transit chamber.

Materializing within its destination World Line at an altitude of 25000 feet the Chronicles drone unfolded into its aerodynamic shape, accelerated to a cruising speed of 450 kph plotting a course south.

Infinity Incorporated Projection Hub – Oslo, Norway, Homeline
The I-Cop techs noted the more Northly dimensional transit, every Conveyer leased to a Homeline Government or Corporation was equipped to transmit its coordinates should they be to a monitored or restricted world, to an Infinity mainframe.

While the techs pondered the transfer, the hub initiated two jumps of their own.

The Dovrefjell Mountains - Molde, Norway, Asgard
“First and second perimeters breached”, Captain Omar rubbed his eyes, standing in the second story of their Hostile Terrain Habitat with yet another blizzard whipped up around them.

“Visibility dropped to two meters” added the comms officer, “Laser grid activated” he added calmly, the screen revealed a dozen shapes scrambling up the rocky slopes, each cutting through the invisible lasers.
“How on Earth did they find us!” exclaimed Lieutenant Krauss
“Not sure” replied Omar thoughtfully “Must be something to do with coming across, looks like they bring the weather with them” his eyes narrowed “Activate the sentry guns”

The HTH had been established on the summit of one of the lower Dovrefjell mountains, surrounding it a ring of smart sentry guns, given the activation order each weapon elevated, armed and fired. A dozen corpses tumbled down the rock face.

“ Conveyor code confirmed, incoming” said the still calm comms officer
Omar and Krauss made their way down to the ground floor and through into the conveyor chamber, the shuttle that materialized was an armored model, as soon as the green light activated the hatch swung open.

Special Operations Commander Willis stepped out followed by eight of her troops.

“Captain Omar” she said curtly saluting him
“Commander” he replied, this time returning the salute, this one was militaristic so the salute was necessary, without ceremony she handed him a small circular circuit disk.

He inserted the disk into his earpiece and listened.

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Post by arcanus » Thu Mar 07, 2013 5:42 pm

The Svarttjernshøgda Mountains - Norway
The mountainous path was hidden by age and lack of use, the surrounding woodlands and snowfall sweeping away the impermanent steps of man.
Vadan allowed the frigid cold air to scold his lungs and clear his head, they’d made their way from Jevnaker during the previous evening, camping on the mountainside and then heading out at dawn.

He allowed Eive and Targ to move past him, each scanning the quiet morning woodland, he remained a moment to look down on the tiny speck of the town watching the riverfolk start their day, the Vikings still sleeping off the previous nights revelry.
He concentrated feeling the phantom breeze of Odins Breath move through the mountain air, allowing his other sense to wander locating the Runestones scattered throughout the ancient trees. He frowned the stones were alive, chittering with power, the air buzzing to those who could hear, that wasn’t a good sign.

He shook Odins influence from him, his eyes watering he turned and resumed trudging into the woods, finally the trio arrived at a sparse clearing upon the summit.
The younger’s crept along the outskirts, Vadan for his part followed the overgrown path, noting the hardy wild mushrooms that had grown tall despite the adversity of winter.

The keep was a single floor, its stone green and damp with moss, no doors or windows allowing a scattering of snow to grace its threshold, he stepped in catching scent of a still burning fire. Vadan weaved his fingers through The Breath and incanted “Følger vi runene, følger vi veien”
A voice muttered from the darkness “Følger vi runene, følger vi veien”

A stooped figure shrouded in a cowl hobbled from the shadows, Vadan remained still as the figure eventually made its way to the small fire burning within a small pit.
“The body grows weak my old friend” croaked the figure
Vadan moved to the figure “While the stones grow strong, too strong!”
“Yes, yes, it is not good” he grumbled
Vadan looked with concern at the old man, he had never seen him so weak
“The Scalds have been turned from their rituals, to play seer to the Lords, unattended the stones sing!” the old man continued
“And as they sing the wyrms will follow The Aesirs breath South!” Vadan finished
Dragnar looked upon Vadan through milky white eyes “The others are gone, turned or drowned, the stone leeches my final days from me” he smiled and breathed heavily
Vadan patted his friend on the shoulder “Rest”, Dragnar’s eyes fluttered, he stood and stepped outside, he found Eive examining the mushrooms while Targ sheltered in the shadow of the peak watching the paths.

“Elder” said Eive “What troubles you!”
“Things grow dark child” Eive frowned in response
“VADAN” a shout drew his is attention back to the keep, the elder nodded his head sadly at Eive and returned to the old mans side
Dragnar was now seated over a small simmering cauldron, weakly he stirred the pot and then painfully leant forward to look upon its contents, Vadan sat opposite him
“Dark hearts” said Vadan
“You sense deceit” replied the old man now seeming to be possessed of some purpose and renewed energy
“Yes, why release the wyrms in the North and retreat to the Southern planes”
“Perhaps the kings wish to draw the followers of Christ against the beasts”
Vadan thought on this “Possibly but a foolhardy notion, the Linorns instead will ravage the Northern lands and our Whaling, a few of the Ice Drakes may travel South but none that would fight the Danes, it is folly”
“The kings seek the power of the stones” replied Dragnar thoughtfully
“Now we reach the truth of it, the fools think they can surpass their Runes and turn such power against the Danes, this is their folly they seek to control power they have no respect for nor control” Vadan was shouting angrily now
“This is why they have drawn the Skalds close, shut them in libraries, to uncover greater Runes”
“Do they fear the Christians so much to resort to such madness” hissed Vadan
Dragnar turned his senses seeming to return to him but his strength waning visibly “Yes, I have heard rumours that their priests can turn aside the Fulthark, they possess power within their faith”
Vadan looked into his old mentors eyes “They forget the great slaughter of the Northern shores”
“Forget, ha, most of them do not believe in the Great Wyrms, they see only the common ones and think them no more than big birds, they think the old tales are just that!
Vadan the kings seek to protect the Aesir Norse, however they will instead destroy us”
Dragnar shuddered uncontrollably, Vadan sensed the change, a chill to Odins Breath.

“ELDER” screeched Eive, Vadan was already upon his feet stopping short at the threshold of the keep, floating above the mushroom strewn clearing was a thing of darkness, a ghostly skeleton, whose bones where as black as sin, its eyes pinpricks of red hellish light, its form wreathed in a swirling charcoal fog.
Eive turned and looked at Vadan in fear, he raised his hand signing her to remain still and quiet, he hoped Targ would do the same, the thing cast its gaze around, seeming to peer straight through them, frustrated it swooped around searching for something that it could not find.
The sky had grown dark, the clearing even more so as long moments passed in statue like silence, before the shade hissed in frustration and flew into the darkened sky.

Moments more passed before the elder moved to Eive and pulled her to her feet
“What was that?” she gasped fearfully as if out of breath
“Something that should not be” replied Vadan before he gently pushed her away and hurried back to Dragnar, but it was too late, the old man’s eyes had rolled back in their sockets, his skin already greyed and his chest shrunken
Targ had now appeared in the doorway “I am truly sorry Elder” he said
“Ssshhh” replied Vadan gently as he leaned over Dragnars corpse and the cadaver of a black bird, a long stiletto piercing its heart, placing his hand within the birds hearts blood he drew a deep inward breath and leaning over his old friend breathed out, releasing a cloud of blue vapour.

The vapour poured into the corpses mouth and nose, as Dragnar’s ribcage rattled and he rasped a breath, a curious blue light shone behind his eyes and an unpleasant noise almost like a hissing laugh escaped dry lips.
“You remember the old ways” the corpse rasped
“Yes” replied Vadan ignoring both Eive and Targs gasps
“A dire soul has called up the Fel Mørken and set them upon you, the last of my breath will keep you hidden from them!” it coughed
“For how long old friend” whispered Vadan
“But two sundowns and my breath seeks Valhalla” the corpse became silent
“My thanks old friend” said Vadan his head bowed, his hand upon his mentors withered hand
“Rejoice well within the halls” he said as he stood
Turning to the two youngers “We depart now, we have little time” with that the three gathered their possessions and fled down the mountain path.

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Post by arcanus » Sun Aug 11, 2013 4:56 pm

Executive Offices – Palm Island, Miami - Florida
Panoramic windows gave the conference room a spectacular view of Biscayne Bay.
Tony Larcomonni glared at all of the journalists and the Director of Location Aiden Swaltz, the latter of whom had insisted the Assignment Meeting was held in sunny Florida.

His icy gaze however did not settle upon Jimmy McFadden who sighed in relief, since his foolish tantrum in New York Tony hadn't let up, he didn't sit completely comfortably though his bitch Supervisor Charlotte Du Champ sat behind him, much to the other journos smirks and grins.
‘I’m better than all you fucks’ he mentally cursed

Assignment was a big deal, each quarter all of the Sports journos met with the Operational Directors, throughout the previous quarter they’re work notably prime shots, articles and commentary was rated, the overall best ratings were awarded the top assignments.
As the multiple parallels and safe echoes approached certain dates notable sporting events were available to be recorded, of course even the same events could turn out differently so Chronicle sports readers were always eager for the next events.

The top events for this quarter was Superbowl 23, the 1958 Fifa World Cup and the Athens summer Olympic games in 2004, surprisingly Jimmy was not annoyed when these venues and other choice assignments were farmed out to the other Journos, in fact he was expecting it.
Mike seemed pleased with his 1998 Winter games in Nagano, Japan giving Jimmy a smug look, however a long icy stare from Charlotte soon dissolved this, Jimmy shook his head he certainly didn't need some daddy’s girl fighting his battles for him.

He was last and dreaded to think of what he’d be covering, it certainly wouldn't be lucrative.
Tony turned to him “Paris 1924” he said simply, Jimmy frowned, Kit Polker female journo seemed to catch on really quick “He’s got a Games, what the f”
“Ahem” snorted Charlotte, the two women locked gazes
“Polker” said Tony with calm command
“Boss” she replied
“Shut up”
“Yes boss” she huffed, Jimmy was still being slow on the uptake, he didn't see the big deal, archive footage was never as punchy or lucrative.
Assignments over, the collected Journo’s stood, waiting expectantly for their boss, the order of the day was a champagne lunch.

As Tony stood Charlotte piped up, “If you’ll excuse us we’ll get underway”
Tony smiled, Kit seized upon this “Nice thumb print Jimmy, you a tamed man!”, she licked her lips suggestively
Jimmy stood, straightened his suit looked Kit in the eye and turned without comment, for some reason he really wasn't bothered about the lunch.

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Post by arcanus » Sat Oct 12, 2013 9:39 pm

Bata City, Equatorial Guinea, Homeline
The harbour waters were calm, perfect conditions for transit.
Crew and technicians hurried around, no one knew what conditions would greet them on the other side, Kit Polka stood calmly on the upper deck allowing the excited tension around her to excite her muscles.

She bit her lip feeling all unnecessary and smiled suggestively at a muscly deckhand, news helicopters circled above, Tony had really come through for her, this was going to be worthy of winning a Wooldridge Award.
She watched as the Trans-sports tech crews started to emerge on the deck having supervised the storage of their equipment, this was a joint enterprise between Trans-sport and the Chronicle, the former relying on the latter’s transworld license from Infinity Inc.

So she found herself as anchor for a first, an Americas Cup style race to be raced on the Ocean Earth Oceanus. Looking over the rail she saw the massive wing sail catamarans loaded on immense cradles within the hold, this view allowed by the fact the ships stern was hinged open like a pair of massive doors.

A loudspeaker boomed above her “ALL PASSENGERS AND CREW PLEASE PROCEED IMMEDIATELY TO TRANSIT POSTS, THIS IS NOT A DRILL PLEASE PROCEED IMMEDIATELY TO TRANSITS POSTS, TRANSIT IN T-MINUS 5 MINUTES”

Each passenger and crew member had a wireless pager on their wrist which started a second by second countdown, Kit drew in a breath of Homeline air and strutted across the deck to the seats in the passenger lounge, with all the elegant stride of a supermodel.

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Post by arcanus » Sat Feb 08, 2014 11:14 am

The Noveg Plain, Norway
Hidden within a copse of trees the pack sat around a fire ripping pieces of sizzling meat from the body of a downed elk, like a pack of lions Fairbourne had waited until the warriors had taken their share starting with Thorne.

Their journey north had brought them against several more Viking war packs all sent to Valhalla with equal measure of efficiency and ferocity.
A snow flurry danced above the trees obscuring the smoke, none of them spoke and Fairbourne
avoided meeting any of their gazes, especially the lupine Bardolf or Thorne.

Only the swordsman Eòdor gave him a stoic nod, Fairbourne caught Thorne glaring at him.
The big warrior stood exposed muscle seemingly impervious to the Arctic cold, his mane of black hair having lost its spiked styling to sweat and snow, hawk like features holding hard grey eyes, no warmth came from their leader.
He swept his great fur cloak aside and trudged down the slope to where the copse stopped its following of the slope, from this vantage he looked out into the black night, Bardolf sniffed the air, snorted at the fire, took one final suck of marrow from his elk leg bone and shuffled off in an animal like manner into the higher tree line.

The night silent Fairbourne was left with Eòdor, the swordsman had a Gallic look to him, long chestnut hair, woven with braids to keep the locks from getting in his way, a short beard covered his tanned face.
His garb was a mix of almost Arabian and medieval, baggy trousers strapped from the knee down into boots, his torso clad in a woollen shirt, beneath green bronze scale armour and festooned with more belts than Fairbourne could count, each belt holding a scabbard.

“You krup ap” he said not looking at the journalist, David thought on what the warrior had said, picking through the dialect ‘You kept up’, He nodded in response.
Eòdor nodded in what could almost be acknowledgement “Guut” he replied, stood and took up position against a tree, a silent signal that the short exchange had finished.
‘Progress’ thought Fairbourne

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Post by arcanus » Sun Feb 23, 2014 11:07 pm

The Noveg Plain, Norway
The copse of fur trees in which they camped stood upon the slope of a hill, the hollow within their centre no more than a couple of yards across.
Fairbourne looked up to see the Corsican archer Phyrras appear out of the deep green foliage, he looked at Eòdor “λεξικό δεν βρήκε καμία λέξη” <We are not alone>,
the swordsman nodded, all three looked down to see the huge form of Thorne had vanished.

Phyrras lunged forward bowling Fairbourne over backwards and into the tree line, as he tumbled he heard a thunderous crash and splintering of wood, followed by an ear splitting bellow.
The archer was back upon his feet in a heartbeat, bow drawn and returning fire, the journalist shielded his eyes as an explosion erupted within the grove followed by a roar or pain and outrage.

The archer hurtled back into the trees, hurrying Fairbourne to this feet and pushing him stumbling out of the trees onto the snow laden bank beyond.
The journalists gaze followed the swirling snowflakes dancing a frenetic jig across the treetops to the form that moved above them, the form of a huge, gigantic man.

The titan bellowed in rage as Phyrras sent another exploding arrow over the trees and into its chest, the monster seemed unperturbed however before it could vent its fury it spun roaring at something to its rear.

Fairbournes professional instincts began to override his fear, he slid down the bank landing in the deep snow at its base, allowing his vision to once again settle he saw Thorne dart in and out of the giants legs delivering great swipes with his huge sword.
The giant brought its tree trunk club down with literally earth shattering force, he waited as a great cloud of snow blew up in response, had the beast pummelled Thorne.

His answer was another explosion, followed by three smaller explosions as the snow cleared he saw the giant collapse one of its lower legs connected to the thigh by a few strands of sinew, its chest a bloody mess.
Thorne sprinted across the snow and without pause ran up the monsters back avoiding its flailing arms, he swung his greatsword into the side of its neck severing its jugular, swinging himself around he delivered a further blow to the other artery.
The giant finally connected with its attacker hurling Thorne like a big ragdoll, the beast bellowed in pain trying to pull itself back up, however Eòdor took the warriors place, slicing deeply into the creature’s throat while avoiding its swinging fists.

Fairbourne had managed to start his minicam and caught Thorne appear out of the snow, the big warrior held a large boulder above his head, huge muscles straining until he got close enough.
Eòdor leapt clear, Thorne hoisted the boulder to the full extension of his arms and hurled it straight onto the top of the giants skull with a sickening crack.
Before the stone had even rolled clear Eòdor rammed his long sword into its skull stilling its thrashing form, hand still steady Fairbourne blinked in disbelief.

The crazy bastards had just killed a forty foot tall giant.

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Post by arcanus » Thu Feb 19, 2015 9:17 pm

Oceanus IV - 10th Century
Divergence Point: [/b]Archean Period 2.5 Billion years ago, continental landmasses fail to form above sea level. Earth evolves as an Ocean World.
Eight 30 meter wing sail catamarans had been lowered into the choppy waters off the coast of Cinnabar Island, each yachts team now ran through the plethora of checks on their vessels.
Kit Polker stood against the rail of the Chronicles support motor yacht The Jack Fuller, the craft bobbing up and down, ignoring the slight nausea she looked down at the American Teams catamaran, watching as a sonic pulse radiated out from below its hulls.
Each boat was equipped with enhanced sensors and sonic pulses to hopefully dissuade the oceans multitude of predators, Kit checked her hair, pursed her lips and winked at the buff tech who had kept her company the previous night.

She quickly descended the ladder from the support boat to the US catamaran.

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Post by arcanus » Sun Mar 01, 2015 10:17 pm

The Dovrefjell Mountains - Molde, Norway, Asgard
The special ops group were one and all hulking walls of muscle, the smallest being the hard severe form of their commander Captain Willis.
Each stood clad in white thermal battle suits, armed to the teeth, Omar met their hard stares as he listened to the orders on his datachip

<Captain Omar the recent decision to classify Aesir as an R3 Worldline has raised concerns following the death or disappearance of four Homeline citizens, whereabouts we understand resources have been deployed special operations team 11A17 will ensure all Homeline personnel and technology are suitably contained>

Omar nodded thoughtfully, a not unexpected move although as lethal as Captain Willis and her team were his money was still on Thorne, the barbarian mercenary was unreliable but he knew the cut of these savages.
As the team decanted their equipment from their trunks, Willis accompanied Oman up to the command post “What do we have?” he asked the comms officer
“Further hostiles, they’ve taken cover at the base of the mountain” he replied

“How will you break their line”
The first sign of emotion crossed Willis’s face, a thin grim smile “Snow boards, all of my team are at competitive standard and combat trained, they won’t know what hits them”
Omar nodded, turning as the largest soldier appeared at the top of the stairs, Willis turned “Sergeant?”
“We are ready to move” he replied in a thick Scandinavian accent
“Our resident Viking” Willis commented, Omar regarded the heavily muscled straw blond, ice blue eyed warrior, a thick beard lining his heavy jaw.

Willis snapped a salute to Omar, before marching toward the stairs, reaching the bottom she looked from troop to troop “Perimeter defences will still be operational, everyone activate their IFF tags now”
Each trooper clicked a white tag prompting a momentary blue light before fading out
“READY” shouted the base sergeant, having donned their helmets, each nodded their affirmation. The sergeant then activated the HTH’s side hatch and the ghostly forms of the special operations troop disappeared at high speed into the blizzard, sweeping from side to side with the proficiency of Olympic snowboarders.

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Post by arcanus » Sat Sep 17, 2016 7:59 pm

Oceanus IV - 10th Century
The Oceanid Balcony – Cinnabar Island

The north west corner of the island had a series of curved platform balconies following the northern curvature, the uppermost balcony was a palatial affair reserved for the wealthiest or most important of residents or visitors.

Positioned within the center of the balconies 2 mile long expanse was the exclusive Tethys Club, its open air restaurant overlooking the azure ocean 50 meters below, the terrace currently was deserted apart from a group sat around a twelve place table.
Tony Larcomonni took his attention from the magnificent spectacle below, the numerous cutting edge wing sail catamarans prepping to race.
He looked over to the standoff between the two high rollers at the other end, on the left Infinity World Manager Tyrone E Goff, on the right Matriarch Anisa Miriv Aravich Hoste.

Larcomonni had met ballbreakers in his time however Anisa Hoste was undoubtedly top of the tree, an almost legendary figure among the Infinity rumormill, however her indomitable presence seemed to be tempered by the man sat opposite her.
Goff was an authorative late middle aged man, his strawberry blonde hair shot with white framing a heavily lined face, Tony was present to ensure The Chronicle Sports coverage of the event was a complete and utter success.
He knew of Goff purely by reputation, a veteran World Manager of 7 Worldlines, brought out of semi-retirement to manage Oceanus and counter Hoste.

He had been utterly silent reading through the paperwork Hoste’s people had given him, before he put the stack down on the table and regarded the Ice Maiden over his glasses.
“Why has the profit percentage changed from 10 to 12 percent?”
Anisa gave him a cool look “Operating Costs” she replied
“You have a cost projection of these additional costs?” he parried and thrust in response
“Of course she purred” handing him a wad of papers
Goff made a show of leafing through the document, before returning to the negotiation.
“Deal” replied Goff
Hoste narrowed her eyes “You roll over so easily Mr Goff” he said in her thick accent after studying him
“It isn’t an unreasonable sum Mrs Hoste”
“That was too easy” replied Hoste smugly and leant forward to stand
“If we’re making small amendments to our contract, the additional 2% would be based upon a increase from 3 to 5 years Trans-World Sports deal and Equatoral TriCore Coordinates” added Goff conversationally
Hard eyes narrowed and fixed upon Goff “I don’t find those terms agreeable Mr Goff” the latter emphasized with annoyance
“Happy to return to the original terms” Goff smiled faintly
Anisa Hoste sat back, Tony also reclined in his seat watching the power play unfold, Goff smiled “Ladies, Gentlemen would you give Mrs Hoste and myself a few moments”, the rest of the PAs, Marketing Executives, Tony and Trans-World Marketing Director Neil Cavaliss stood and retreated to the Caribbean style thatch roof bar, the barman already setting up a series of cocktails.

Cavaliss drew his e-cigarette, potent Morrocan flavours permeated the air as he drew the vapour in “Going to be a long night” he said looking out over the ocean.
Nodding Tony lifted his Four Horseman and took at measured draught, Oceanus didn’t do small and a huge shoal of rainbow colored flying fish broke the water surface becoming a cyclone of colour encircling the moored wing sails and their crews.

Both men chuckled as the young female PAs ooed and gasped.

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Post by arcanus » Sat Oct 15, 2016 8:31 pm

Asgard - Divergence Point: 780AD, Viking Scalds discover Rune Magic, they use this to battle the Linorms and Trolls in the Northern Icelands.
Current Affairs: 819AD the Scandinavian Kingdoms are subject to Civil War as the Christine Danes battle the Norwegian Aesir, in order to wipe out the Old Gods.
The Fortress of The Blessed, The Isle of Gwales, Kingdom of Gwynedd.
He stood upon the top of an ancient stairwell, Bran Prince of Gwynedd soaked in every mote of dust, scent of mold, every worn boulder, the base of the stairwell led into the grand hall and the assembled gathering of lords.

He moved into the throng, the assembled were slow to notice him his journey had taken him far for a long time, as they did murmurs and shocked recognition met him until he reached the main table. His uncle King of Gwynedd Rhodri the Great looked stern, the Lords around him looking uncertain.

Rhodi stood stepping around the large round table, slowly walking to his nephew arms outstretched “Nephew you should have sent word, we would have prepared a feast in your honour” his eyes spoke of warning

Hugging his nephew he whispered “We must retire to my chambers quickly”

They walked slowly beyond the hall, through the fortress halls and finally into the royal chambers. The chambers were Spartan for those of a king, rough oak draped in bright wool, worn rugs upon rough stone

“What news do you bring from the Northlands” the king said, his face troubled
“What has become of you!” replied Bran, Rhodi merely looked at his nephew

Bran felt the turbulence in the Dragons Breath, tendrils of mist crept around his limbs worming into his muscles drawing his strength, slowing his heart and clouding his mind.
They dragged him back through the halls, back to the main hall, the Lords baying for his blood before they were silenced by a short cloaked figure who moved furtively through the throng.

“AND SO THE PRETENDER RETURNS, WHAT PACT HAVE YOU MADE WITH THE NORSEMEN WHO RAID OUR SHORES AND PILLAGE OUR WOMAN” the figure howled, his cowl falling away to reveal an emaciated wizened old man, his toothless mouth sending spittle flying his whispy hair wafting around his head.
Still shouting his vehement proclamations he approached the Prince, who’s weak form was still firmly held down by burley retainers, he knelt beside Bran “It was unwise to return my Lord” he whispered, the mania seeming to have suddenly left him until he stood once more and the mantle was once again upon him.

“THERE IS BUT ONE REWARD FOR SUCH TREACHERY” He bellowed
Bran lacked the strength to scream as the retainers sank their short swords into his back, dragging him to this feet, more retainers impaled him upon their spears, before cutting his head from his body.

The King of King of Gwynedd cast his eyes to the floor; embittered cowardice prevented him from seeing his nephews last moments.

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