Penny

The Sunday Group - Paranormal Detectives

Me but it seems like im the only one :(

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

The walls of Copher rose like a mirage across the distant sands. Night had fallen but hundreds of torches lined the white washed battlements, casting a flickering illumination on the limestone. The tang of salt was on the air and the call of gulls testified to the presence the ocean, though steep cliffs screen any view of the sea.

Emmaline rubbed her sleep deprived eyes. The two humans had been sleeping in shifts, justly concerned that if they both dozed off, Trogg might decide on a snack. He had bought the two remaining corpses, tied over the back of a camel, but both of those and the camel that had been carrying them were by now being digested in the ogre's enormous gut.

Dietary peculiarities aside, Trogg was a surprisingly good conversationalist. He regaled them non-stop with tales of various adventures and campaigns he had been apart of. To hear Trogg tell it, he had been involved in battles stretching from the steppes of Kislev to the coast of Ind. It seemed to Emmaline that he was peculiarly focused on losing battles, dwelling fulsomely on depressing retreats, sudden routs and the general misery of a mercenary life. Emmaline was particularly interested to hear about his time in the Empire, she was not particularly patriotic, but it was still welcome to hear stories of her native forests rather than this sun blasted wasteland.

"Will they close the gates at night?" Emmaline asked Amal. The thief wrenched on the reigns of his tired camel, hauling the obstreperous beast back towards his desired course.

"No one is foolish enough to attack a City of Wizards," he told her.

"My kind of place," Emmaline said with a tired smile.

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Sayeeda found herself growing more enthralled the more Saxon talked. She didn't think she had ever heard the Hex talk so much in the entire time she had known him. The alien phrased things in terms that reminded her of sagas or perhaps ritualistic recitation boasts. It fired her imagination, making her see an ancient and primordial forest though which hunters stalked great beasts. She wondered if they might ever get close enough to visit, although a whole planet full of Saxons...

"Join us Captain," Gabriella called, waving her to the table where servants were laying down platters of breakfast foods. Platters of meat cheese, and tropical fruit in a dazzling variety of colors. Bottles of what appeared to be juice cooled with fresh ice were lain in small buckets of decorated porcelain.

"Let us talk of business," she said with a nod to her husband and then cast a smile at Indra.

"And celebrate my daughters engagement, of course," she said raising her glass towards Neil and Indra. Taya's mouth fell open, though she managed to avoid actually gasping.

"Neil is getting married?!" she asked with a shocked look at her captain.

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

Rene managed to catch Solae as she crumpled, though taking her weight, and that of her armor sent a stab of red hot pain up his side. A pair of hard faced men leaped from the armored air car and grabbed the pair hauling them through the hatch and into the rear compartment of the vehicle. The hatch hissed shut sealing away the crackle of burning APCs and the din of alarms set off by the discharge of the buildings high energy defensive weapons. Rene’s vision had become curiously monotone and the sound of fans and voices merged into a meaningless warble. Ten’s face appeared in his vision, pulling his helmet away but though his lips were moving Rene could make no sense of the words coming from his lips. He had the curious feeling that his tutors would be angry at him if he couldn’t relay Ten’s words to them. The kingpin turned and spoke to one of his men but by the time he turned back Rene had already slipped into unconsciousness.

Zatis - Day 23

“...needs a hospital… lost a lot of … pressurize…” Rene’s eyes fluttered open to reveal nothing but a blinding overhead light. The taste of antisceptic filled his throat and cold fluid pumped into his right arm with a steady pulse like rhythm. He tried to sit up but some kind of bracing around his chest prevented him from doing so, though it didn’t prevent a stab of pain and the blaring alarms of several monitoring system. A face appeared above him, silhouetted against the bright light.

“Mr Quentain, you need to relax, don’t try to move,” a familiar voice told him. Rene tried to summon up the name of Ten’s doctor but the woman’s name seemed to have vanished from his foggy mind.

“Solae…” he croaked, his voice dry and cracked.

“She is ok, in better shape than you that is for sure,” the doctor replied. Rene felt himself relax either from some modification to the drugs he was being treated with, or simply the knowledge that Solae was safe.

“Good..” he whispered.

“You were shot,” the doctor said in an accusatory tone. Cristeta, that was her name, Rene recalled.

“Occ...occupational hazard,” he managed. Something moist was pressed into his mouth and he sucked on it instinctively, water coating his parched throat.

“You would be surprised how often I hear that,” Cristeta responded somewhat sourly.

“A piece of your armor fractured inwards and penetrated your liver,” the doctor went on somewhat more clinically.

“It’s a miracle it didn’t lacerate an artery while you were running around all hopped up n that awful cocktail,” Cristeta marveled. The kind of combat drugs used by soldiers in the field were not well thought off in the medical community, a doctor wanted a drug that was safe and stable, a soldier wanted whatever it took to keep them on their feet.

“Any one you walk away from doc,” Rene responded, his voice strengthening, “but thank you for saving my life.” Cristeta grunted in acknowledgement a certain professional pride showing on her face.

“I need to see Solae,” he said after a moment. The doctor glared at him.

“What you need to do is rest and heal,” she countered. Rene shook his head.

“No time,” he explained, “Bhast and her men will be out by now and… wait how long have I been out?”

“Almost 30 hours I’m supposed to let Ten know as…”

“As soon as he wakes up yes,” Ten interjected, stepping through the door into the room. Rene forced himself up onto his elbows. The room must have been intended to be an elegant sitting room but it had been stripped of furniture and covered with semi-transparent plastic sheeting. A variety of surgical equipment including life support monitors and a synthetic blood transfusion set were spaced more or less equidistant around the bed in which he lay.

“I need to talk to Solae,” Rene insisted, forcing himself slowly to sit up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

“What would I know, Im just a doctor,” Cristeta muttered after a glance at Ten to make sure the kingpin would not insist on her behalf.

“Has the Decameron already lifted?” Rene asked. Ten nodded.

“There was no point in trying to prevent it, Antigony Bhast could certainly have sent the news on any one of a hundred indepentent transports, perhaps you will get lucky and the Decameron will come apart when it tries to jump. It would have been a smarter move to blow the building with her inside,” Ten said with a total lack of emotion.

“Destroying a PEA worth more than the rest of this planet combined,” Rene added a touch sourly. Cristeta hurridley produced a wheel chair and Rene sank gratefully into it. His body was healing rapidly but there were few safe ways to combat exhaustion other than actually resting.

“It might have been worth it, to keep Tan in the dark,” Ten countered. Rene shook his head.

“Even if the Decameron wasn’t monitoring the communications net, which they certainly were, the Captain would have to be an idiot not to assume the worst and report it to Duke Tan.”

Ten shrugged, not conceding the point, but unwilling to keep arguing it.

“I will take you to the Marquessa, and you can discuss your next move,” he told Rene, moving behind him to guide the wheel chair out of the improvised operating room.

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Emmaline’s blue eyes widened at the sight of the massive ogre. For a moment she considered whether she could crush him with her coils and then realised that she wasn’t actually a snake. The creature rubbed at its enormous paunch as it regarded Amal with naked hunger.

“Would you care to join us for dinner?” Emmaline asked politely. The ogre paused and looked down at her speculatively, cantaloupe sized eyes narrowing. He made a contemptuous gesture at the remains of their supper.

“That tidbit, by the maw woman…”

“No no, I wouldn’t insult you with a meal so paltry,” Emmaline interjected smoothly, leaning down she grabbed one of the dead bandits by the tunic and heaved him forward, making scant progress but bringing the corpse to the attention of the giant creature.

“See? Nice and fresh, butchered not an hour ago,” she enticed. The ogre took a step towards her and with unnerving speed for something so large snatched up corpse and bit the head off with a terrifying crunch of bone and a spritz of sluggish blood spattered in the fire, trailing long tendrils of smoke up towards the ceiling of the cavern. The ogre crunched for several thoughtful moment and then sat down on a large boulder to pull off an arm with a jerk of his head. Shakily and trying not to look horrified Emmaline resumed her own seat beside the staff, though there was food left she found she was no longer hungry, though she did take rather a large swig of arrak. Amal slipped the knife back into his sash and took his own seat.

“Well Acmed is dead, and I suppose partially digested,” Emmaline conceded.

“How much did he owe you?”

“Fifty sovereigns,” the ogre said around a mouthful that included a flopping hand. Trying to keep her gorge down, she stood up and counted out fifty sovereigns, wrapping it in a silk shirt and hauling it over to the creature. The ogre chose that moment to pluck a bloody tibia from its mouth, snap the bone in two and noisily suck the marrow. Emmaline shuddered and turned pale.

“Well Master Ogre, now that your contract is complete, are you available for hire? We are in need of a body guard for the road to Coppher, and there may be other Acmed’s along the way.”

Penny's Interests

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Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

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The Ring of Nydeer Ali

Rumored to have once belonged to the legendary thief Nydeer Ali, this gold ring with simple grey stones appears fairly prosaic. However, it subtly bends the Wind of Shadows, causing spells targeted toward the ring to sputter and fail as though by mischance. It also grants the wearer increased stealth in low light or in shadows, making them much harder to see when they are sneaking, though not actually invisible.

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Emmaline whirled in surprise, her staff whacking into Amal’s shins with a painful thump.

“Ouch! Easy woman!” he snapped somewhat irritabley. Emmaline blew a blond lock out of her face in frustration.

“Well don’t sneak up on me like that,” she responded before turning her attention back to the chest. There were five chests scattered around the room, four of them lay open, the locks that had sealed them melted into puddles of cooling iron that hissed and spattered. The last chest however had proved immune to her spell.

“Watch,” she instructed, and touched the end of the staff to the lock, whispering the words of the simple spell. It went haywire, despite being among the simplest cantrips a Gold Wizard was taught. Sparks gouted from the end of the staff and bluish electrical light sizzled for a moment.

“Let me try oh great one,” Amal responded mockingly, rubbing at his shins for a moment before sitting down on all fours before the chest. He drew forth a pair of metal probes and fit them into the lock, gently testing and turning until finally giving the larger of the two a firm twist. The hasp of the lock sprang open with a metallic click that bought a self satisfied grin to Amal’s face. He tossed the lock aside and pulled open the chest to be rewarded with the glint of gold and the sparkle of jewels. Unlike the other chests that had mostly been brass and silver, this appeared to be the pick of the bandits loot.

“Well what have we here?” Amal asked and reached for a ring of gold with stones of smokey gray set into the band at irregular intervals.

“Dont touch that it is…” Emmaline began but Amal already had the thing pinched between thumb and forefinger.

“Enchanted,” she finished in a flat voice.

“Is it dangerous?” he asked peering into the grey stones intently.

“Well it didn’t kill you when you picked it up,” Emmaline conceded.

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

The Empress appeared to consider it for a long moment and then her image reached forward to touch something just out of the range of the hologram pickups. Turning her head she spoke a few words to Alric who gave a curt nod and then his lips blured as the privacy mask intervened to protect the speaker from lip reading as well as audio eavesdropping. The communications suite at the Summer House was state of the art in all respects. Mercedez gave the older man a nod and then turned back to face the hologram pick up. Nothing showed on her face to hint at the import of the concealed conversation.

“We have maybe thirty seconds before they breach!” Rene yelled from his improvised cover. The sight of his Father’s face stung him but he couldn’t afford to look for more than a moment. He slapped the visor of his helmet down and turned on the anti-shock filters that were built into the unit, using a squad leader function to engage the same function on Solae’s helmet, even though she wasn’t currently wearing it. The faceplate blanked as a polarizing field altered it to resist the effect of breaching munitions, and the audio pickups began to broadcast a subsonic damping field to protect his hearing. It wasn’t perfect protection against the concussion, flash and disorientation of a breaching grenade but it was what he had to work with.

“I am unwilling to commute Mr Quentain’s term of enlistment,” Mercedez Vilentrae declared flatly, holding up a finger to forestall any objection.

“The question of his guilt or innocence, as well as that of his family affiliation will be revisited at another time. I will, however, promote him to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel and assign him to you as your chief of security and military liaison. As of this moment you are the new Duchess of the Eastern Cross, all rights and privileges formerly assigned to Alexis Tan fall to you, until such time as the situation is resolved.”

The import of the short statement was stunning for both Rene and Solae. Marine officers were not drawn from the same pool of murderers and other miscreants that made up the ranks and were not subject to the same strictures. While the Empress decree forbade Rene from simply resigning his new found commission, his status as a felony in the process of being pardoned for service had been lifted. The rank of Lieutenant Colonel was stratospheric when viewed from his previous lowly position and normally the height of attainment for any officer who was not on a command track. For Solae the implications were even vaster. At a stroke she had been made the pre-eminent noble within the Eastern Cross, the titular liege of all of the lesser nobility and one of the seventeen electors who would convene to determine the Imperial Succession should Mercedez perish without naming an heir.

“I fear, Duchess, that few in your new realm will accept you unquestioningly, but I charge you to defend it as best you can until my forces can reach you,” Mercedez added as though reading Rene’s mind. Of course that didn’t really matter if they were killed or captured within the next few moments.

“Renard,” Alric spoke aloud for the first time since the call had began. Rene whipped his head away from the door for a moment to watch his father's unreadable place.

“I am pleased to hear of your engagement to a worthy woman,” he said with the slightest ghost of Rene’s own easy smile. There was a whir as a sophisticated printer produced a rosette, a diplomatic document that served as the official credentials. It was palm sized and made of dense synthetic crystal. The black and red design indicated it had been issued under the authority of the House of Vilentrae, while a golden circlet ringing the Imperial Sigil showed it had been issued by the Empress herself.

“Is there anything more we can do for you?” Alric asked, a military man recognizing the appalling tactical situation and perhaps as a father concerned for his son.

“Father I…” Rene began and then paused, clear thought forcing its way through the fog of injury and the drugs allowing him to continue functioning through it. He was moving before his mind could have articulated what he was doing, leaping up the stairs three at a time.

“Yes, keep the call running,” he called, grabbing Solae’s helmet and slipping it back on her head, concealing her beautiful face behind the polarized shield.

“Up against the wall,” he yelled, half directing half carrying Solae back down the short steps.

“Mia can you hear me?” he snapped into his helmet.

“Yes Colonel Quentain,” the AI responded in a particularly sultry voice, demonstrating that she had been keeping track of events.

“I need you to take control of my helmet, disengage all external sensors, and reconstruct a simulation from my sensor data,” he commanded. Almost immediately the world went black and then sprang back into wire-frame relief, a computer generated composite of his video recorders and the returns from the LIDAR and RADAR returns the helmet used to peer through smoke and darkness. None of it was real, but the internal compass meant that so long as nothing had changed since he had seen it, the representation was as good as reality.

“I need total exterior sensory deprivation,” Rene told Mia, “radio from Solae only.” All the sounds of the outside world cut off abruptly, the background of humming computers, the clink of metal on metal and the rattle of equipment much more noticeable for their absence. He pressed Solae into a corner, shielding her body with his own. Slinging his carbine he pulled two breaching grenades from his belt. For a moment there was nothing but silence and then the door exploded inwards as Bhast’s breaching charge cut through the armored door. Rene couldn’t hear it but he felt the shock of the blast as well as the rain of debris that pattered across his armored back and shoulders. A heart beat later the breaching grenades went off, bright enough that the actinic discharge was visible at the seam where his helmet joined his throat armor. Though Rene could neither see nor hear it stunner fire poured through the door, aimed at the pair of figures on the PEA dais. The images of Alric and Mercedez were, or course unaffected by the spray of electrical darts, but they fit the mental picture of what the attackers expected to see. Rene leaned back and tossed a breaching grenade through the shattered door and then flicked the other one towards the dais. Both went off within a half second of each other with syncopating booms that he felt through the soles of his feet. Attackers were screaming in confusion and fear but in the silence of helmet Rene merely grabbed hold of Solae and ran through the shattered doors.

“Mia drop the..” the AI anticipated his command by a fraction of a second and his face shield depolarized. The stunned rearguard had dropped his weapon and was clutching at his eyes while the shouts of confusion and the snarl of gunfire filled the PEA chamber. Rene pulled his pistol from his belt with his off hand and shot the disoriented soldier in the chest, the plasma bolt liberating its energy with a subsonic whoomp. The gout of vaporized ceramic and plasteel pitched the unfortunate soldier back into the wall with enough force to crack his spine if he hadn’t been wearing armor.

“I surrender!” Rene heard his father call from the room behind them, doing his best to add to the ruse. Rene pulled the final grenade from his belt, a standard high explosive frag and tossed it back through the doors before leading Solae down the corridor at a sprint. The bomb went off with a crump and was followed by screams of pain. Rene doubted it would kill Bhast but he supposed he had already had enough luck for one day. They turned a corner and pounded into a stairwell that spiraled down towards the ground floor.

“AI system D1124.3 online, system recognizes the authority of Duchess Sola Falia as senior Imperial Official on site. Please instruct.” Decimal’s monotone voice declared as the AI came back online. Bhast’s people had been able to reboot the system, but they couldn’t keep it down forever, the program existed in too many redundant nodes. Judging from the lack of even the rudimentary personality Decimal had exhibited, they had, accidentally or not, resorted it to its factory standard.

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Indra clapped her hands excitedly as Neil paddled out on his board. The waves immediately began to grow in intensity as hidden grav panels buried beneath the sea floor began to agitate the water. Junebug realised that the unseasonably warm water must be a deliberately created condition. The amount of money that was required in order to achieve such an effect was staggering, especially as this place seemed to be the private preserve of Indra’s family.

“Were you just flirting with Saxon?” Taya asked sotto voche. Junebug glanced at the girl, she had merely been polite to the Hex in her mind.

“Not deliberately,” she responded. Taya nodded with some relief on her face.

“Good because Neil looked none too happy about it,” she observed. Junebug gave the young noblewoman a speculative glance.

“Yeah well Neil dosen’t get to control who I flirt with,” she responded, her voice a little tighter than she had intended. Taya looked a little chagrined, having clearly stumbled into territory about which she knew nothing. Indra cheered as Neil caught a wave and began to ride it in towards the shore.

“Hey Saxon,” she called. The lizardman’s head swiveled towards her, forked lounge questing as though tasting the air.

“I have a few questions about your people,” she began.