The Chronicles of a Rock God

Details and a record of the characters exploits, successes and failures within the Parallel Worlds.

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The Chronicles of a Rock God

Post by arcanus » Tue Jan 24, 2012 1:30 pm

Titania - 1341
Divergence Point: Humanities earliest descendants are driven to extinction by the older Fey races.
The World is discovered by Homeline in 1336, large scale conflicts arise between the native faerie and Consolidated Mines ULTD until peace is brokered in 1339.
The Helios Resort, Cross of Changes Island, South Pacific.
“Oh bugger!” was really the only thing a wasted, sleepy eyed big haired elf could mutter as he surveyed the scene of carnage.
The luxury apartment was well and truly trashed, “For fucks sake, what’s the point of shredding the bed linen” he cursed, there were lines even Rock Gods didn’t cross and soiling your bed in any way was just not on.

“Animals” he cursed, although not too loudly as ever he was truly proud of his new found friends collective Rock escapades, they may not go down in the annals of time but it had been a hell of a fortnight, well the few hours he could recollect.

Debris covered every scrap of the floor, impressive arcs of rum punch had reached new heights, even the balcony banisters were bent from one too many dives down into the pool. Slumbering naked bodies lay everywhere, he’d be there amongst them, however his alarm call had reached through the drunken haze and as always had roughly shaken him back to reality.

He could sense the sphere’s chime and echo with melody, a herd of whales distantly exploded into song “Got to go to work”
“Tiny get off that girl!” he ordered, a head looked up, looking altogether far too innocent an immense paw draped across a naked ass, then a second and finally third head appeared.
He merely gave the dog a stern look, too which the monstrous hound yawned in contempt.

He winced as turning he saw an angry tattoo upon yet another female bum cheek, left to be anatomically precise, he was pretty sure her name wasn’t Kazhra, shame about the tat, yes definitely time to go.

He winced as a painful burst of sound seemed to surge into his frontal lobe, slowing turning as to avoid the accursed sun reflecting off azure seas and blinding him he saw the envoy.
Freaky girl, stunningly beautiful, but the rams horns curling through her hair, just weird.
As usual she took in the scene with a mocking grin “It seems I’ve arrived just in time!” she said with some degree of venom, it was uncalled for he thought, all of the other girls thought he was adorable.
The insolent hound bounded over to her, the nearest head giving him a look, he merely scowled in return.

“I’d suggest you get a move on” she ordered “The hotel management are on their way up with security and this dosen’t look cheap”
“Alright alright” he grumbled, quickly grabbing his scrunched up leathers, guitar and the sword, of course the sword.
The Chorus usually so welcoming and calm, battered at the inside of his skull, Tiny stepped through the patio door, shimmered and was gone with a melodic rush of air.

He heard the swirl of angry sounds, the rapid breath of an unhealthy appetite for tacos and the accompanying anticipated song of impending violence, he heard the angry torrent demanding that the door be opened.
The latest Kazhra looked up eyes foggy and heavy with sleep
“I’m really sorry about your arse” he shouted over a wind only he could hear and with that he stepped through, disappearing headlong into the current of song, into the crazy wall of Sound.

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Re: The Chronicles of a Rock God

Post by Raz » Tue Feb 21, 2012 3:32 pm

The flight from London to New York was quiet, and uneventful. Annette Garrett slumped in her chair. Her head still throbbed slightly, but she was convinced she was over the worst of it, shame the same couldn't be said for Raz. He had spent most of the flight in the toilets.
She stretched and took her bag from the overhead locker. Taking out her Infinity Pad, she powered on and connected to the plane communication system. After authenticating and confirming her identity she finally logged on to the Infinity Mail servers and downloaded her mail.
Nothing out of the ordinary... usual work email. Although... hang on. Important contact required? What's that about? Another mail flagged as Important. And another. She received 6 emails with little red flags against them from someone she had not met, but they seemed important. She opened up the 3rd email.

Secure Mail from: <H_Ravell@infinity.org.sec>
Recipient: Annette Garret, <A_Garret@infinity.org.sec>
Subject: Improper Use of Company Funds
Message Decrypted <> Begin:
Dear Miss Garret,
Allow me to introduce myself. I am Hector Ravell, an investigator within the HR department of Infinity Inc. I am writing to you to please ask you to contact my office at your earliest convenience, as my previous attempts to contact you have so far been unsuccessful.
Infinity Incorporated have been forced to take action against you for the reasons listed below, and as per company protocal I am required by law to listen to your account of the past 3 days. Upon receipt of your statement a committee will decide whether you did indeed misappropriate company funds for personal use, or whether those funds were used for company business.

The events of the past 3 days have been compiled without your input, and we have been granted permission from the relevant departments to access your personal accounts. We have also used extensive CCTV footage obtained from various establishments around the capital to try and piece together your activities, although we do have a number of issues which require your clarification.

Our investigation thus far has concluded the following to be an accurate description of the last 72 hours.

Upon arrival in the Homeline from Etheria, 2 Miss Garrett did visit the Fareham Inn on the banks of the Thames with a number of acquaintances:
Agent Black
Private Montezza
An Infinity consultant (later named simply as 'Ras')
3 large canines. (Names inconclusive)

We have logged a debit of 200 Sterling from your Infinity Near Field Communication device which we can see was used entirely for the purchase of food and beverages within the Fareham. The committee has deemed this a fair use of company funds, and you are not under investigation for this transaction, although a note has been added to hint that the beverage order far exceeds the guidelines for expense claims for this number of people. (Appendix B in the Infinity Personnel Handbook indicates that the total amount of beverages should not exceed the number of guests multiplied by 2. In this case 8 drinks would have been acceptable. 19 drinks between 4 is considered excessive)

Upon leaving the Fareham, Agent Black, Private Montezza and the 3 canines left seperately to yourself and the consultant. The next transaction logged against your account is 50 Sterling paid to Thames River Taxis, followed by a purchase of 2 tickets to the "Rocky Horror Picture Show" at the Adelphi Theatre, London. The committee would have deemed this a valid transaction if the story you are researching involved the arts, but as we have no evidence to support this theory we can only conclude that this is an invalid purchase, and company money has been used for personal gain.

Even more shocking is the footage obtained from the Adelphi Theatre CCTV cameras. After the consumption of more alcohol, yourself and the consultant seem to become agitated at the poor vocal performance delivered onstage. The consultant appears to encourage other members of the audience in some form of shouting and gesturing to the actors on stage. The CCTV footage from this point is obscured by bodice clad audience members, but a video has been found online posted minutes after this escapade. Do you know what this video footage shows, Miss Garrett? I shall assume not. This video footage, taken by an agitated audience member, shows a bare chested consultant leaping onto the stage and pushing the lead performer into the crowd, before singing back to the crowd. The video shows yourself attempting to climb onto the stage following the consultant, failing, and falling back down, whereupon you stand, remove your skirt, and try again to climb the stage. Once on the stage you, Miss Garret, jump and dance in a state of undress and in a manner totally un-befitting of an Infinity employee, before the theatre security forcefully remove the 2 of you. This online video has "gone viral" I believe the phrase is, with over 500,000 views before Infinity managed to remove it. The committee has noted that the consultant did sing significantly better than the original performer, and one committee member commented that you have a fine pair of pins on you. Such comments have been entered into the minutes.

The next transaction logged against your company account is from another taxi company. The taxi records show that you requested to be taken "where the students hang out...". Facial recognition software picked you and the consultant entering a nightclub near the London Campus. The consultant appears to speak to one of the bouncers who then proceeds to let the 2 of you into the club without joining the queue. We would like to know what was said to the doorman as Infinity records show this consultant has not previously visited Homeline. The committee would also like me to point out that your skirt remains the property of Infinity Incorporated, and they request you retreive said item from the Adelphi Theatre.

CCTV footage from this nightclub is still being obtained, although a number of discreet interviews have revealed that this is a popular music venue with frequent "open mic" nights. The committee has concluded that either yourself or the consultant must have somehow obtained money from this nightclub as no further transactions have been debitted to your Infinity account after this point. For this we must be grateful.

We are insure of the movements of yourself and the consultant after this point. We can conclude that you did not return home as the security system within your flat has not been deactivated, and when arrested you were wearing the same clothes as you were when you arrived back in Homeline. We have spoken to the Metropolitan Security Force who have agreed to drop the charges of petty theft against you and the consultant, although a note will be added to your Infinity Personnel file to show that you did attempt to steal an item of womens clothing from a high street store.


Annette sank deeper into her chair. Her mind struggled to remember what she had gotten up to with Raz. Had she really danced onstage with no skirt on? Then her pad pinged again. Another email from Hector. Her heart sank...

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Re: The Chronicles of a Rock God

Post by Raz » Wed Feb 22, 2012 4:17 pm

Hesitantly she opened up the next email, also from Hector.


Secure Mail from: <H_Ravell@infinity.org.sec>
Recipient: Annette Garret, <A_Garret@infinity.org.sec>
Subject: FW: Improper Use of Company Funds
Message Decrypted <> Begin:
Dear Miss Garret,
Hector again. We are still waiting for contact from you to update our records, and to receive your account of the 72 hour period during which you seem to have been absent without leave.
As you and the consultant dropped off the grid after leaving the music venue we have had to extend our investigation. We have a department with links to a number of local news agencies across the country. The following transcript is from an interview on Wales Today regarding an incident in Pontypridd:
Interviewer: Can you tell us what happened during your friends wedding?
Wendy: Oh it was proper strange. There were these two guests, see, that no-one knew.
Stella: Bloke and a woman wunnit Wend'.
Wendy: Yeah, Stell'. Bloke and a woman is sat there, plain as day they is. Only 'e ain't got no shirt on, has he Stell'?
Stella: Tha's right. Proper gorgeous he was, with his chest out an' everything.
Wendy: Proper lush.
Stella: She was a bit rough, mind.
Wendy: Proper rough. Prob'ly come up from Cardiff see.
Interviewer: And then what happened?
Stella: There was a fight see!
Wendy: Proper punch up.
Interviewer: And why did the fight start?
Stella: It was Aled and his mates, that's who it was.
Wendy: Aled's the best man he is. Plays rugby he does. Only he doesn't like the way his missus is looking at this bloke with the bare chest. She's a bridesmaid see.
Stella: She's all blushing and smiling at him and Aled he gets all angry.
Wendy: She always was a bit of a slag, even at school.
Stella: She was, Wen'.
Wendy: Anyway Aled starts getting all mouthy and stuff, and then the whole place explodes!
Stella: Like them western films it was.
Wendy: Well, one of them ushers, was that Tom Thompson I think. He pulled a knife!
Stella: A knife, at a bloody wedding?! What was he thinkin'?!?
Wendy: So this gorgeous man, he don't look worried. He stands there all calm and sexy, brushes his 'air from his face, and 'e says "Call that a knife? That's not a knife-"
Stella: "This is a knife" is what he says. And he pulls out this bloody massive great thing!
Wendy: Proper big it was!
Stella: Big? It was bloody massive is what it was!?
Wendy: Well, Tom dunno what to do! He just stands there like tha' Then this bloke with no shirt on runs up to the bride, whispers somethin' in her ear, slaps her bum, snogs Aled's missus and runs out! Lucky bitch.
Stella: And 'er, the woman, she flips the bird to Tom, shouts "Rock 'n' Roll" and runs after him!
Wendy: Best weddin' I bin to in bloody ages.
Stella: Proper lush.
Annette sighed. The story did now sound familiar. What had she got involved in!? No, not what... WHO!?

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Re: The Chronicles of a Rock God

Post by arcanus » Fri Feb 24, 2012 12:39 pm

Downtown Vancouver - Homeline 2027
There are two types of people. Those we who come into a room and say, Well, here I am! and those who come in and say, Ah, there you are. - Frederick L. Collins

I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day. - Frank Sinatra
The view from the corporate tower of the TransWorld Chronicle Vancouver Head office was spectacular giving its Western offices an unsurpassed view of the False Creek, the Burrand Street Bridge spanning it and looking out from Downtown Vancouvers skyline.

It was this view and an iced tea that brought calm to Adam Sarcum’s otherwise growing level of vexation, as Historical Life Editor in Chief, Annette Garrett was one of his roaming investigators finding out juicy stories from the Homelines Historical analogues and publishing them in the Chronicle.

The curt email he had received from Infinity's Human Resources department had almost certainly increased his blood pressure to unhealthy levels, if it wasn’t for the fact that she was a good investigative writer and increasingly popular with the readers he’d have suspended her without a thought.

For a younger middle aged man he had a pretty antiquated office, all wood, charts, curios and globes of the world, any mod cons modestly hidden.
His shoulders sank as his expected visitors entered, Infinity Execs there was little worse.
He turned looking at the £500 dollar suited pair, glaring until they exhibited the good manners to remove their ridiculous shades.

“Mr Sarcum, we talked on the phone regarding Miss Garrett’s breaches of policy” said the exec still standing, the one with the floppier blond hair.
Adam made his way around his desk to his reclining office chair, carefully placing his glass on its designated coaster.
“If I recall you informed me of a number of Breaches of Infinity policy, Miss Garrett works for the Chronicle”
The exec seemed to square his shoulders, is if preparing to speak to a child.
“A publication for which Infinity Incorporated owns its Transworld License, as per any Transworld business and has majority share options!”
He continued “As you can see Mr Sarcum, we are quite within our rights to question your reporters conduct and misappropriation of funds, given that this individual operates Transworld and who’s conduct could endanger the Secret!”

Adam thought on this some more, he already knew the answer, no business operated Transworld without Infinity allowing it and owning a sizeable chunk, they were autonomous enterprises until they did something that Infinity didn’t like.
“Could you explain where Miss Garrett is, Human Resources are keen to speak to her and clear up this matter”
“Mr Jevin, we have our own procedures and will look into the matter as a matter of urgency, in the meantime you could have saved yourself the trip, as I explained Miss Garrett is still on assignment”
“Are you covering for your reporter” responded Jevin icily
Adam returned the scathing look with an equal look of contempt, standing he leaned across the desk “I hadn’t realised that Infinity had turned into some form of secret police and that my employees aren’t entitled to a personal life!” he growled

“Not when they endanger the Secret, consort with possible Transworld interlopers and misappropriate funds that are ultimately Infinity’s shareholders” the exec replied unperturbed
“You have until the end of the week before we turn the matter over to the Patrol” the pair stood and exited his office officiously.

Adam sat taking out his personal tablet and typed arguably the most unprofessional message he’d ever sent

Infinity Inc Flight 411, The Atlantic
Yet another email pinged on her pad “What now”, despair was beginning to turn into annoyance, Hector was about to get his response all right.
Then she noticed it was from her boss Adam, oddly from his private email account, tentatively she opened it and sank back into her chair
Annette you stupid crazy bitch, don’t go to the office disappear for a week or so and don’t do anything else stupid.
- Adam
She’d only wanted a little fun.

Then yet another email arrived from Hector!

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Re: The Chronicles of a Rock God

Post by Raz » Tue Feb 28, 2012 6:33 pm

Secure Mail from: <H_Ravell@infinity.org.sec>
Recipient: Annette Garret, <A_Garret@infinity.org.sec>
Subject: Urgent Contact Required
Message Decrypted <> Begin:
Dear Miss Garret,
As per Protocol 7 of the Infinity Employee Charter we have instigated a search to try and determine your current status. As you are no doubt aware, if any employee without Deep Cover Clearance remains unaccounted for, the company is authorised to conduct a search in order to determine your life status.
Your current Deep Cover Clearance level is 0, meaning that you are not authorised to undertake Deep Cover assignments, and as such we have accessed your personal finances to try and uncover any untoward activity. If your position within Infinity has been compromised the company will take measures to maintain the Secret.
Upon accessing your personal finances we have uncovered what may be the cause of your absence. You are in receipt of a second income, Miss Garret! Should the Infinity Times accept this as notice of your resignation?
I am of course referring to the daily contributions from GoTunes Incorporated. These contributions (of which there have been 3) total £2,800. The committee are very keen to establish where this extra revenue stream is coming from, and whether any company funds have been used to augment this sum.
There is a reference against these transaction; RazzMaTazz Ltd.
Please call me on my number below to arrange a convenient appointment. I am available day or night. If we do not hear from you within 24 hours, agents will be despatched to physically ascertain your life status.
I look forward to seeing you shortly.
Yours,
H. Ravell.

Annette suddenly became extremely agitated. What on earth had been going on??? RazzMaTazz? She had never heard of - Wait a minute...
As Raz walked back to his seat a female arm reached up from behind a seat and grabbed him, pulling him into an empty seat next to an irate Annette.
"What the hell have you done!?" she hissed through clenched teeth.
"Er, not me. We." said Raz, blinking through a hangover.
"You have better start making sense, or I swear to god I'm going to throw you out of this damn plane!" she hissed again, cheeks flooding with anger.
"OK! OK! Settle, petal, for Jobe's sake... you are a lot more fun when pissed I can tell you!"
"What is Razzma-bloody-taz and why are they paying me money!? I could lose my job over this!" she demanded.
"Razzma-bloody-tazz is our record label, remember? How much have you been paid?"
"Record label? Um, 3 grand i think"
"3 large?! WOW! That's in, what, 2 days??? Rocking..." Raz smiled. "Don't you remember anything??? We won that money from the open mic night, and you said we should release the song I sang cos it was great. So we did. Booked some studio time, laid down some tracks, made us a song!"
Annette looked at him in disbelief, mouth slightly open, "A song? We've released a song?"
"Uh-huh, you graciously let me use your GoTunes account seeing as I don't have any bank details.. Remember? We are going to split it 50-50? Nothing?"
"But... but what about my job? I'm being investigated!"
"Take a chill pill, doll... We checked with that mate of yours, the lawyer fella. He reckoned you were sweet cos the money wasn't the papers, and cos you can just say you're writing a critique on how easy it is to get famous and that. The stunt in the theatre, the open mic, the students, all raised my profile. And look, our song is rocking. How long did that take? 3 days? From zero to hero. Hey, that's what I should call the album..."
"...but, but what about my... y'know. 'Art'?"
"Oh that.. You said we would never sell any records cos you weren't rock 'n' roll enough. So we did a few rock'n'roll things. I shagged a groupie and you got y'self inked." Raz winked.

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Re: The Chronicles of a Rock God

Post by arcanus » Sat Apr 07, 2012 9:47 am

Downtown Vancouver - Homeline 2027
It was 5.17am and Adam Sarcum was already behind his desk, it was a sunny but windy Saturday morning in Vancouver.
He’d arrived home at 8pm the previous evening, exchanged pleasantries with his fiancée who humoured him and then following some forgettable takeaway passed into the realms of bone wearied sleep before 9pm.

Shortly before he had succumbed he’d received a very curious email, from some dark office within the Infinity Chicago Corporate labyrinth.
Although he’d digested the contents he hadn’t quite taken it in, until he awoke at a very annoying 4am wide awake, a few hours within a virtually deserted office would allow him to catch up, so he’d stolen from the house and promised a few relationship Hell Marys once he returned.

The first email had been from Hector Ravell, the first time the Security Auditor had emailed him directly, the problems with Annette seemed like a lifetime ago, a week of manic deadlines as the Infinite Worlds seem to go into an overdrive of Historical content.
It had been one of these weeks why he came to work, but exhausting.
He’d expected the Garrett issue to raise its head again, anything to do with Security and Finance never went away, if you were on the wrong side of it hoping they’d forgotten about you was somewhat foolish.

However the email had quite abruptly stated that the matter was concluded and subsequent investigations had cleared Annette of any wrong doings, they’d even reimbursed the Chronicles Cost centre for the visitors expenses, in short a complete and utter reversal of all the posturing and threats from last week.

Adam shook his head and lost himself momentarily in how good the cup of Arabian coffee he was drinking was, this morning he had had yet another email awaiting him.

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Re: The Chronicles of a Rock God

Post by arcanus » Sat Apr 07, 2012 2:00 pm

Secure Mail from: Annette Garret , <A_Garrett@transworld-chronicle.org>
Recipient: Adam Sarcum, <A_Sarcum@transworld-chronicle.org.ed >
Subject: FW: Improper Use of Company Funds!!!!
Message Decrypted <> Begin:
Boss,
Hope your blood pressures not too high?

Weirdest thing, Agent Black (you know the cut and polish guy) has informed me that the investigation has stopped and I’m all clear!
I posted the Etheria material, I was really pleased with the content and the pics of the rampaging automatons came through really well.
I’m sworn to secrecy on the last job and Agent Black has done a very thorough job of destroying all my material, the real drag is that I can’t get anything past him.

Permission to remain with this group, they’re turning up some real scoops at the moment and it’ll blow your mind.
Last thing can you make sure my wardrobe allowance is authorised again, we’re going to be jumping quite a bit so I’ll need to keep up, oh and I’ll need some more tech, I’ll just put it on the card.

Hope this is okay
Annie
Downtown Vancouver - Homeline 2027
It was now 7.16am and Adam sat upon the garden terrace looking out from beneath the Chonicles Tower, the terrace having a pretty splendid view of the bridge and bay.
‘Cheeky bitch’ he mentally growled, it was an editors lot to put up with crap from high maintenance reporters, a rather depressing fact of life was that they were nearly always the best, eager and most daring journalists.

Annette was one of those, pretty stupidly fearless in her own way, but pretty good writing prose, well nothing that couldn’t be simply edited, however she did have a fantastic eye for events and detail, catching things that other reporters missed.

Driven by his own passion for history and that enormous sense of wonder all the what ifs presented, he’d followed Journalism and then gripped by ambition and a little greed he’d entered the Editorial echelons.
He’d thought that the Journos of Historical Life would be fairly nerdish, in reality the researchers were, the Journos all thought they were Indiana or India Jones.

His instinct was to play it by the book, technically Annette’s misnomer hadn’t been serious but it had attracted the wrong people’s attention, namely Infinity’s HR Security.
Now he thought about it, it had been something of an over reaction, true the Secret had to be maintained, but her areas of misconduct were all committed on Homeline no threat there.
It should have never reached Infinity’s attention, the Chronicle were the ones who should’ve taken issue with misappropriation of expense funds, but compared to Sports and Culture Annett’s little bender was small change.

Sarcum’s Investigative neurons started to fire, he hadn’t covered this ground before now, but the sudden reversal and Annett’s email had started him off.
No there had to be something else, a reason why Infinity took such an interest, the most logical explanation was that they were already watching Annett, he shook his head ‘No not Annett, the individuals she was travelling with’

Either this Black character or this other livewire who seemed to have been her partner in crime on the bender, so the next question was why were they being watched.
True he imagined that Infinity kept a fairly close eye on its I-Cops where possible, but as he well know from his Journo’s that wasn’t easy when they weren’t in the same dimension and this seemed like they were under surveillance as soon as they got back to Homeline, Hector Ravell had sourced an awful lot of data in a very short space of time.

The invigorating breeze had now turned into more of a gust, shaking the terrace tables parasols, Adam smiled to himself, Annett might well have stumbled into something really noteworthy.
In reality her Etheria material had missed the deadline by a week, but it had some fantastic footage of the automaton rampage of London, the print editor had authorised a special in the next edition, once she’d rolled her eyes back into her head.

That was what made Annett good, that uncanny knack of being in the wrong place at exactly the right time, his trip in on one of his few Saturday’s off had really been worth it, ignoring the gust whipping his hair around he picked up his tablet.

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Re: The Chronicles of a Rock God

Post by arcanus » Sat Apr 07, 2012 2:01 pm

Secure Mail from: Adam Sarcum, <A_Sarcum@transworld-chronicle.org.ed >
Recipient: Annette Garret , <A_Garrett@transworld-chronicle.org>
Subject: Extended Assignment
Message Decrypted <> Begin:

Annett,
Authorised on all counts, needs to be draw dropping content regularly.

Don’t let me down

Adam

PS. Stay safe

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The Chronicles of a Rock God

Post by arcanus » Mon May 14, 2012 4:13 pm

Parallel Minus 71 XXI – Limerick, Ireland 1956
The pub was an old Tudor affair, white plaster intersected by black wooden beams.
Situated several miles East of Limerick, it was one of dozens that he’d visited in the fast week, plying his craft, trying to bring some soulful rock folk to the working class.

The reception he received varied from gruff distain to mild interest, working class pubs were hard nuts to crack, still it got him enough coin to put a roof over his head for a night or two, a full belly and occasionally enough left over for the bus to the next town.

His big problem was that he couldn’t get enough for the ferry fare to Liverpool, that was where the music scene was happening, he needed to be there.

The pub was quite full, but he was background music, tucked in a corner on a stool, the highlight of his night a pint of Guinness rather than cheap stout.
He summoned the enthusiasm for his next song, letting out a few higher notes amongst his soulful tune, to try and get some attention.

The residents had thicker skins than bulls, none of them turning from their conversations or cards, Irlan Rarlerty crooned melodically, these yocals wouldn’t know music if it struck them in the face.
The only one to be actually watching him was a big gruff looking man, with a bald head and moustache, Irlan hoped his interest wasn’t like that.

As his melody wafted across the room, it happened to him again.
On the previous occasions he’d thought himself tired or drunk, however this time he hadn’t woken up in the Guest House until gone 1pm and he’d only taken a sip of his Guinness, he watched as multicoloured waves of energy flowed across the room, waves that flowed and eddied at exactly the same time as his song.

The currents fluctuated and pulsed as he changed to his fiddle interlude, as he played he noticed that in striking different keys the currents changed, his usual confusion and fear of going mad gave way to curiosity.
By alternating the bow between flat or round notes, he made the wave dance and coil.
Breaking the fiddling interlude he reached out with his voice, unsure how he achieved this he seized the wave before it escaped the fiddling.

Holding a long note he watched as the wave rose and then in changing pitch sent the wave across the room, where it reflected off a pint glass with a loud ping.

If his slightly frenzied change of tempo hadn’t got the attention of the patrons the glass chiming did, a number of them looked puzzled and then to his amazement smiled and a few even clapped, all apart from the big man who merely scowled.

Irlan played on for a further fifteen minutes before finishing his set, the landlord seemed a lot happier to see him from when he’d approached cap in hand earlier on and cheerfully paid him, the fiddle player merely shook his head, he just didn’t understand what had just happened or what he’d done.

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The Chronicles of a Rock God

Post by arcanus » Fri May 18, 2012 9:23 am

Telesial – 1517
Divergence Point: Pangaea forms into different landmasses and the Worldline is a High Mana zone.
Mythical races are common, with the Elven race being the most developed and powerful society on the Planet.
Tundalin The North Shore
The town of Tundalin covered six thousand acres, however as was traditional for the Northern Elves, not one of their dwellings had foundations of stone.
The entirety of the town was a forest, the lower dwellings being great bulbous spherical trees, while its halls and chambers being great expansive canopies that towered hundreds of feet above the landscape.

Towards the north west of Tundalin situated by the Erien River, was a series of trees resembling giant thistles, held within their branches ornate wooden houses.

Dismissing his troops, a tall armoured figure strode beneath the swaying branches until he reached the twisting knots that formed stairs spirally up into the living area of his destination. He regarded the domed structure with a cold stare, before striding up the stairs and entering.

The inside of the dome was ornate, lined with finely carved coving that extended the height of the ways to meet in a central pinnacle.
It had the appearance of quartz infused marble, however no stone had been used in its construction, in fact the material was calcified wood, carved into the most elegant relief.

Had such beauty been found anywhere else he would have appreciated it, however anything belonging to this family was tainted in his eyes, instead he snarled before stepping onto the circular steps leading down to a room sitting within the centre of the floor.

He passed from the dim blue light into a warm orange glow, the inner chamber was decorated by curved and bowed tables and chairs of a deep red wood, its walls panelled with a similar material.
Sat at a large wooden table in the centre of the room was a striking elven woman, looking up she frowned deeply, a look of hatred, one that was returned.
Dressed in a sleeveless flowing robe of pink dyed spider silk, her hair braided in a bunch on top of her head, she returned to concentrating on her sketch.
Eluinur stared at her intently, eventually forcing her to sigh and look up to regard him once again.

Eluinur Súniémar wore the brass breastplate, shoulder plates and armoured skirt of one of the Eältar, martial protectors of the spirits, his cloak and tunic woven around the armour.
His long hazel hair traditionally braided on either side of his face, framing a hard unkind face, Eluinur came from a influential family of traditionalists, his childhood one of hard lessons reinforcing the ways.
Ways he rigorously enforced in his position as a martial lord.

There was no greeting, no conversation, to do such would feign friendship or interest, neither was willing to show such a sign of weakness.

“You have heard from Raz’eal or Firion?” he asked, his words almost cutting the air
She looking mockingly at him “You very well that I have not, the Úmanwë would have sensed such”
A flash of anger crossed his face “The Úmanwë have sensed forbidden music upon the Etheirum!” he snarled
“Forbidden” she replied, rolling the word around her mouth, “From when has music or joy been forbidden?”
“Do not play with me, you know full well what I mean” Eluinur surged down the steps, his arm drawing back, Tárië Sephiroth for her part seemed to materialise to a standing position.
“YOU WOULD BREAK YOUR VAULTED TRADITIONS AND BRING WRATH UNINVITED WITHIN MY HALLS” she thundered
He flinched her words stung him, the power behind them, turning he watched the shadows of the chamber twitch and smiled
“You spend more and more time in here now, the pleasure of your own company or the need to protect yourself” he stung

“You claim that you do not possess the power of the Índel, yet you are haunted by it nether the less!”
To this she didn’t reply, looking away to hide the tear that ran down her cheek
“The Úmanwë have felt the presence of the Taith, scratching upon the edges of the light, do you not see Firion and Raz’eal Sephiroth’s gift invites disaster, the louder they sing the more they are coveted, where are they Tárië?”
Silently she looked down at the table, “Tárië the Úmanwë can hold the Taith, barely they slip and squirm through the cracks, but anything greater, they will not be able to protect you, tell me where they are, we can help them?”
“HELP THEM, HELP THEM” she roared “The help that you gave to Firion when he needed it, when he sensed the darkness, when they came for him, this would be the help you mean, the help that drove Raz’eal to journey alone after his uncle, that would be the offer you extend Eluinur!”
He grimaced, she continued “You seek to help yourselves, you are little better than the humans, ten thousand years of wisdom and still cowering around your fireplaces Eluinur, still relying on Spirits of the Etheirum to keep you safe at night”
He looked around noting the way that the calcified wood captured threads of candlelight and wove them throughout its opaque white form, his face hard he turned back to her.
“Be warned Tárië Sephiroth, we will not tolerate your brother or son inviting disaster upon us, we will protect Telesial at any cost”
She smiled “Even at the cost of your precious Traditions, you must be scared indeed son of Lótë, at least my brother and son command their own power, is it really that which you fear, go back to your fireplace and cower”
The conversation was at an end, he could sense it, her statement had a final quality to it, he’d expected no less, Tárië Sephiroth was no songstress but was a power onto herself, anticipated that he’d get nowhere but with such mercurial creatures he may have been surprised, he wasn’t and with that he turned and departed.

Tárië waited a long while before looking back to her sketch, it had been five summers since Raz’eal had charged into the void, five summers where she’d heard only rumours from far travellers.
She’d not spoken to him in all that time, five summers since the Dark Ones had come for Firion and ill prepared he’d set off, such a headstrong boy.
The sketch shifted the female face she’d drawn, changing to that of Raz “Be safe my child, know that I love you”

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The Chronicles of a Rock God

Post by arcanus » Fri Jun 01, 2012 2:03 pm

Murcia, Spain - April 1945
Raz shook the muggyness from his head, swallowing hard.
Annett was stable but unconcious, Raz knew the reasons, the lesser races bodies struggled with magic.
It could change with training and exposure.

She'd been healed twice through Song in a day, the second occasion by the touch of a goddess no less, the shock to her system was something she'd need to sleep off.

He turned eyeing the shadows cautiously, they seemed to be lengthening.
He wasn't sure what she had meant, but a sense of dread ran through him, of something approaching.

He felt pins and needles across his body, Annetts body shuddered beneath his palm, opening his eyes he saw nothing but bright light.

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The Chronicles of a Rock God

Post by arcanus » Fri Mar 29, 2013 1:05 pm

Telesial – 1517
Divergence Point: Pangaea forms into different landmasses and the Worldline is a High Mana zone.
Mythical races are common, with the Elven race being the most developed and powerful society on the Planet.
I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew:
Of wind I sang, a wind there came and in the branches blew.
Beyond the Sun, beyond the Moon, the foam was on the Sea,
And by the strand of Ilmarin there grew a golden Tree.
Beneath the stars of Ever-eve in Eldamar it shone,
In Eldamar beside the walls of Elven Tirion.
There long the golden leaves have grown upon the branching years,
While here beyond the Sundering Seas now fall the Elven-tears.
O Lorien! The Winter comes, the bare and leafless Day;
The leaves are falling in the stream, the River flows away.
O Lorien! Too long I have dwelt upon this Hither Shore
And in a fading crown have twined the golden elanor.
But if of ships I now should sing, what ship would come to me,
What ship would bear me ever back across so wide a Sea?
Galadriel, the Lady of the Woods – JRR Tolkien


Born of wrath and ages deep, raised in angst from thy mournful keep
Skin of cracked stone and steaming broth, rage of the earth rising high
And so you come

Called from slumber, your purpose murder
Bound by ritual your wrath contained, hatred seething beneath
And so you come

Eyes of wind, heart of stone, breath of mist and talons of fire
Ancient lore your mind to plumb, witch binding serving to make you numb
And so you have come
The Úmanwë - Telesian Rhyme


Tundalin
Above the tree line the night sky was a deep indigo, accented by the tiny pinpricks of distant stars, the days passage of forest birds replaced by the hunt of woodland bats.
A content silence had settled over the forest town of Tundalin, the centre of the town opened into a large market place, surrounded by functional buildings, each of these buildings resembled a dome or woven roots and branches, clad in thick leaves and calcified wood.

The largest of these domes concealed a large hall created by the building descending into the earth, the inner decoration of this hall was hewn from thick milky white crystal.
Each panel crafted with sombre faces and harsh swirly script, the beauty of the chamber muted by its mood, each of the robed figures present murmuring a drone like chant.

The halls floor was made of great stone slabs radiated from a central glyph, each marked by a rune of its own, markings that sparkled with power, Eluinur Súniémar stood in the middle of the hall accompanied by thirty of his warriors.
Each elf was naked apart from being smeared in thick swamp green mud, from between the flooring slabs crept thin root vines, which had started to entwine the assembled warriors.

The assembled faced a huge chunk of blue crystal emanating with pale light, light which was amplified by six curved fangs of rock bracing the curvature of the walls.
The chant grew deeper and deeper, the surface of the fangs stirring birthing unpleasant shapes, the assembled grew motionless, dark faces rippling slowly through the stone, hungrily like sharks.

The air filled with static, the shapes grew restless, primal forces disgruntled with being awakened, each warrior tightly clasped a round stone, inscribed upon which were images of weapons and armour.
The faces grew still, the chanting now a deep dark grumble filling all present with the feeling of deep caves and bottomless hidden pools, filling all assembled with the sense of inescapable places and how small they were.

Each face hissed, the fangs shuddering and then they roared, a wave of water vapour tore into the assembled lashing them with the fury of an ocean storm, it cut their faces and bodies, stealing away thin filaments of blood.
The great blue crystal pulsed and then erupted in white light, light which flooded out across the floor and enveloped the assembled, each warrior held their breath as their minds flooded into the light and into the void.

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