Last Night's Dream: Posideon's Star

Ok, real quick because I have to run to class soon.

In last night's dream, I was somewhere on the coast probably somewhere in Florida. My mentor, Jeb, had contacted me to come down and spend a working vacation with him while they did some off-shore archaeology. Jeb's cool like that.

So we went out to look for the wreck of some ship and while we were out there another, more modern ship, came up along side us in the middle of the night. No one was at the helm, and no one was on deck. Jeb was freaked because sometimes he has problems with drug smuglers who are moving cargo into Miami so they don't like boats out in the middle of no-where watching their midnight rendezvous.

The ship was just a fishing boat of sorts; not too big and not too small. We crawled on board and tried to find out what had happened while the crew called the Coast Guard. Jeb and I went down to the galley to see if anyone was around. There was some food on the table but it looked a few hours old; like they had eaten and no one had cleared away the dishes yet.

When I took a seat at the galley table, I brushed away one of the plates to see that someone had someone had carved what I called a Sun Flower into the surface of the table. Jeb took a look at it and said that it was a Mariner's Compass. Once we had moved away the other dishes, it was clear that someone had drawn a map to something on the desk and recent enough that the wood was still raw from the process.

It got kinda garbly here, but when I got back into it, we were in the captain's cabin looking for any sign of a log or something that might tell what happened. While Jeb looked at their fishing cameras and other computers, I was sniffing out a book. I knew one was there; I could taste it.

Jeb reminded me that few captains kept an actual paper log anymore; it was all done with computers and GPS. I knew there was a book around there somewhere. I could almost hear it whispering.

So I took a seat behind the Captain's desk and played the "where would I hide something" game. Sure enough, within a moment or two, I found a false compartment above my head and within it was a book in a big zip-lock bag. When I opened it, the thing smelled of the sea; not salty but of mildew. This was the smell of the depths of the deep ocean - where the sun is afraid to go.

I assumed that it was something they fished out of the sea with their nets or something so I figured that it would be wet. Nope, bone dry. Just as though it was on the desk of some captain and ready to use, the book was in good condition.

The book was larger than one of my standard journals - probably a little smaller than the average Player's Handbook. It was originally a hard-cover book but it had softened through what I would imagine would be years of use. The cover was green-ish, the color of sea weed, with small brass triangles rivited to the corner. Dead in the center of the book was a stamp of a trident that was probably gold-leafed back in the day but had been worn off over the years.

I opened the cover and knew that it said "Posideon's Star" in a flourishing script. I say 'knew' and not 'read' because sometimes I can't read text in my dreams but I know what it says anyway.

Unfortunately, I woke up as soon as I opened the book. I heard someone scream "Laaaaaand" from somewhere on deck and that woke me up.

Weird.

Cool, but weird.

-T

Witch World: Text

Text version from original post:

The idea that the Witch World is a shared reality - only really existing when those who believe in it gather to continue it; i.e. "The Dream" of the SCA. To say that the Witch World is also a place, a sanctuary, for magical creatures and arcane things is an extension of that metaphor.

Also, with the Witch World, the portal - the means by which one accesses this place would be a semi-difficult process. Pennsic is just a campground until the other 10,000 ritual participants show up to open the portal. So, opening the portal to the Witch World is a lot more difficult than closing it. Mundania's bane is a lot stronger than the will of a few people trying to "go" somewhere.

In the "War on Terror" genre of the Witch World story, you could say that small groups of people would create the equivalent of a node to "anchor" their corner of the Witch World. Similar to the game of people grabbing the edges of a parachute and flipping it up and catching air under it like a bubble, you would need several "anchor points" to hold the edge of the "balloon" that is the shared dream of the Witch World.

The nodes would be small places, hidden from view since their discovery would get people arrested, with small items or paintings or something that would help the group channel themselves together as an anchor. Routinely, say on the new moon, all of the nodes could "go active" to inflate the balloon again.

Those nodes who had the strength to push a lot of energy into the balloon could also see into the space created, perhaps across it to other windows of nodes. Messages can be sent, etc., perhaps as an owl or something.

Some places within the Witch World would be like an island, built near a node. The process would be slow - like pouring a bucket of sand at the edge of a stream - but with time the "land" could be build firm and strong.

A great deal of the void of the Witch World would be equivalent of water - a vast sea of stormy waters. As the "balloon" deflates, the waters go grey and terrible but each moon it is calmed and the sun is bright and the islands grow strong.

It would be near impossible for each node to construct their own island, grow plants and food on it and release magical creatures to its sanctuary let alone create a home for its people. So most nodes would work in concert with each other to build upon a common ground.

The creation of the nodes, the building of islands and their connection to other islands would take quite a while. For it to have any affect within the story, they would have to be started a decade or so before Demeter was released. To know that it was needed and how to create it, you could say that an oracle from within the Witch World reached back in our time to start things moving along.

Perhaps one of the first islands within the void was Avalon, sealed there centuries ago to protect it and begin the next phase of its function.

As the center of the balloon would be the location with the most energy - to hold up the canopy - Avalon was put there to act as a "support", a backup in case the nodes failed from time to time. Meetings of the nodes could happen on Avalon's shores. The ??? would be hard to get far one place but the dragon boats from Avalon could come and get their emissaries. They could also move people via Avalon from one "short" to another - crossing the world by boat or dragon or cloud.

So, the reason that people haven't just ran away into the Witch World at the first sign of trouble is that there's no where to go; Avalon isn't THAT big. The oracle - perhaps a lady of "the lake" - was able to punch through the canopy to the "far shores" (the mundane world" and influence the covens and the solos to start creating the nodes.

The nodes have to pour energy from the far shores into the Witch World to keep the canopy full, to keep the seas calm, and to build their own island. By now, some of the first nodes would have forests and small creatures on them. Dragons would dwell within or below Avalon – it’s the only place large enough to hold one.

There is another idea - for the sea - that it wasn't always a flooded empty expanse. If Avalon was "pulled" into the Witch World so long ago, it's possible that other areas were as well.

Over the years the lands slipped back beneath the waves and only the faintest edge of the short was left by the time the nodes were created. The dragon boats of Avalon originally able to cross the rivers and such were too small to cross to the lands of the other shores as the waters rose and took more and more of that which had been saved.

Like the great flood, only the tallest areas would survive for long and some creatures fought to claim it as their own. Dragons took to the waters and griffins to the tall mountains. Those places high enough to survive the flood were lost to Avalon and the small boats could not search the void for long without tempting the dragons below.

The Witch World, now, can be just as dangerous as the far shores. So many things are forgotten that many think that there will not be enough time to rebuild the land before the world slips into the grip of chaos.

Journal of Thomas Book (May 29, 05)

Journal of Thomas Book

May 29^th, 2005

18:50 Hrs

Grid G9

I was scraping away at the floor on Jude’s Tomb so I didn’t hear them pull up. The first thing that I could hear that got my attention was the sound of Nurse Ratchet screaming. I peaked out of the stairwell and saw a three trucks of men drive up to the site with their AK's held high. They began rounding up the workers and told them to leave. Our people were tied and told that they would be ransomed back to their universities.

No one saw me as G9 was on the opposite side of the field from the main camp. The guys carrying the AK’s didn’t seem too interested in what we were doing – just who we were. Within twenty minutes, they had everyone tied up and loaded on their trucks and drove away. I didn’t want to move. I could hear us screaming and them shouting but I knew that I was safer if I did nothing. I am staying hidden until dark and then sneak back into the base to search for the team's SAT phone.

21:45 Hrs

I found the SAT phone but every time I tried to call out it was too garbled to get through. Apparently we had the Big Lots version. I had to climb up the hill to the west to get a clear signal and as soon as I did – I called the Embassy. I had the number written in my notebook just in case. I just didn’t expect this to be the reason I’d have to use it. I sat huddled against a tree, but even from there I could see the kidnapper’s camp in the next valley.

The guy that I finally got a hold of, some kind of Aid to the Ambassador, told to stay put and help would be on its way just before dawn.

May 30^th

8:05 Hrs

Hospital Lobby

Last night got worse. I know I’m going to leave out some stuff but here’s my best shot at remembering what I can:

It took me a while to make the climb out of our valley, and it would take a few hours for the cavalry to show up. I wanted to keep an eye on my friends so I stupidly snuck down the hill and into the valley where they were being held. I really didn’t want to, but if the guys tried to move them I wanted to at least be able to watch and call back to let the Marines (or whomever) know about it. I found a spot behind some bushes a few dozen yards away from their camp. I didn’t mean to get so close but I could hear them screaming and what I heard didn’t make sense. They were screaming at the members of the team - wanting to know where an "eye" was.

The more they screamed in Spanish the less it made sense. "Ojo del Diablo", the eye of the devil. I assumed that it was some artifact that they were looking for - probably to trade for more weapons, but the team was excavating some tombs of a regional Mayan official and his family - no wealth like that should have been there.

The marines, or whoever was supposed to come, never seemed to show up. Dawn took forever when you were waiting for it. The bandit leader got a SAT phone call about an hour after I called the Embassy and he switched from Spanish to English.

He told the caller that "they" didn't have it but he was going to kill a few of them to send a message. One of the Grad students, a guy named Kevin, screamed out that it was in this gym bag back at the camp.

I knew that the minute they had it, the others would see the dawn. I crawled away from the camp and high tailed it up the ridge to get back before the bandits. They had to drive a fairly twisty road to get out of their valley and over to our camp, but all I had to do was just go up and over the hill.

I fell down the bottom half of the ridge, scraping my legs on something sharp; I didn't know if it was sweat or blood running down into my socks.

Yes, I was panicked.

Kevin and I were in the same barracks tent. I knew everything about that guy – when he changed his socks (never) and when he had some private time (usually every night). I never remembered anything about an artifact that could be called an ‘eye’. It took me a while to get through his collection of port-a-john pornography, but I found what appeared to be a gold disk encased in bubble-wrap. I grabbed his satchel and ducked out of the back of the tent just as the headlights brushed the perimeter of their camp.

As a hand full of bandits searched the camp, I saw Kevin being tossed out of the back of their pick-up. He was bleeding from a cut on his lip and had a large purple bruise across his cheek, but he was alive. He told them where to look - right where I had taken it.

They accused Kevin of lying and called back to the leader. I was hiding back in the tomb in G9, but I could hear the sound of one shot ring out in the pre-dawn hours. I froze. I didn't know who had been killed but I guessed that whoever it was, they wouldn't be the first.

I felt for the small pistol in my satchel; I had picked it up back in the tent when I grabbed the SAT phone. I remember Kevin asking me why I carried it with me and I told him that I had packed it in case they ran into wild animals around the site. I wasn’t the best of shots.

The two guards stayed in the camp with Kevin while the other two drove back to their boss. One bandit continued to scream at Kevin for the Eye - who was hoarse from screaming that it should be there in his box.

The other bandit found the site director's secret stash of whiskey and began to drain the bottle. They took turns yelling at him and shoving him around. He was bound with zip-ties and hardly made it back to his feet before they would knock him over again.

By the end of the whiskey, they were bored of beating on him. I was scared. I wanted to help Kevin, but I sucked at shooting moving targets and the others would come if he started pulling the trigger randomly.

One of the bandits started to take a piss against the tent but finished on Kevin's back. Still with himself hung out he grabbed Kevin by his belt and pulled him to his knees.

I knew where this was going and snuck closer to improve my aim. I moved from pit to trench across the field until I got within a few dozen feet from where they were. The bandit kept Kevin's arms zipped, but cut open the back of his shorts with a flick of his knife. The other bandit, originally not too interested, couldn't find anything he wanted in the tent and had apparently decided that raping the American before shooting him wasn't such a bad idea.

I made sure the pistol was loaded and tried to calm myself down as the two men pulled their army surplus pants down to their ankles; their guns on the table a few feet away. I took aim at the one by Kevin's head first. The one on his knees would take a second to get up before he could get to his AK.

Slowing my breath, I squeezed the trigger and the first man fell dead as Kevin let out a yelp - either of pain or surprise. It was only a Glock, but at this range almost any hit to the body would drop someone. The second man tried to stand and as he did, I put a round through his throat, but I was aiming for his chest.

Kevin was moaning with panic and fear as I ran up to him. All I could do was hold on to him for a few seconds until he realized that he had not himself been shot. Grabbing the dead bandits knife, I cut Kevin free and grabbed a pair of shorts from near the tent where the bandits had rummaged through our stuff. Kevin was freaked – shutting down his panic and fear, but at least he was able to move.

We ran and hid in the far tomb until just before dawn - just long enough for kevin to change the tattered shorts. He was more shaken than hurt but sometimes that was worse. All he wanted to do was curl up and hide. I had to pull him with me as we climbed back up the ridge and called for help again. Just then, by the dawns light, he could see the leader cocking his pistol and aiming at the back of the head of the team's nurse; a woman we jokingly called “Nurse Ratchet”.

Just then, the bandits dropped like someone had cut their strings. Snipers from the tree line had taken each out within seconds. The Marines had arrived. I told Kevin that we needed to move down to their camp so the Marines could find us. As soon as I got him back on his feet, two bushes near us moved and he about crawled up the nearest tree. I don’t know who those Mairnes were, but I’m glad that I didn’t shoot one of them by mistake. Within a half-hour, we were being air-lifted out of the area and I had completely forgotten about the artifact.

Kevin was taken to a nearby hospital with the others on the team to have them checked out. It turned out that they had broken one of his ribs somewhere in the process. I’m sitting in the lobby of the Hospital writing all this down while I wait for people to get discharged. A SGT is here with me to help get us over to the Airport. The Site Director was dead, but the Team Leader was heading back to the site to collect the gear and the data with some help from a local security company. I don’t know where they’re going to stick me. I’m just a member of the Team, not on staff with the University.

I’m never going to get paid.

Location: Apartment

This is Thomas Book's place. It's not much, but it's home.

The ground floor is a book store (on the left side of the building) and some other business (I have no idea yet) on the other.

The stairs to the second floor are accessed by the front doorway - between the two doors that open to the bookstore on one side and the other business.

The second floor of the building is fairly small with the living room shown with the Edwardian facade.

Edit: 8/3/08

This bookstore / apartment combo is great but not for the start of Thomas Book. Originally he has his uncle's fire house to use.

Thomas Book

This is a background sketch for a character named Thomas Book. He's a sort of mix between Dean Corso (9th Gate) and John Constantine (Constantine).

He lives in the fictional city of Metro - a combination of Ashland and Huntington.

I've changed his background a few times and his personality a few more times, but I think this is a good start.

Intruder Alert

Part 2 of "Maltharians in Space"

"Intruder Alert."

"Wha?"

"Intruder Alert."

"We've got problems."

"Yeah, no kidding. "

"What's this 'we'?"

"Intruder Alert."

"The WE in this detention cell."

"We're aboard a Tinari cruiser. What in the hell could board usunles it was something very bad?"

"Intruder Alert."

"Yeah, but they're not going to be coming after us."

"You're sure about that?"

"Hey, all I did was fall asleep at my post."

"Intruder Alert."

"Uh huh... and I 'just' missed chapel for the past month."

"What are you in for, Ensign?"

"I don't know."

"Intruder Alert."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"Security picked me up coming off shift and told me that I was being detained until the Captain could question me."

"What did the old man want?"

"Intruder Alert."

"That's just it. He didn't ask me anything really. He just read my report from the mission to the ruins on the planet we hit a few days ago."

"That must have been some report."

"Quiet Jar. What -did- he ask?"

"I wish I could see down the hallway."

"Intruder Alert."

"Where're all of the Security Guards?"

"He asked if I saw Commander Ryn collect some artifacts from the ruins. I told him that I did and that it was all in my report."

"Sounds like he didn't want you to see that."

"Intruder Al..."

"What happened?"

"Emergency Power Engaged."

"Shit, now we're on back up power and back-up lights."

"All personnel should go to code beta."

"Oh shit."

'What does that mean?"

"Didn't you ever study your regs?"

"It means that everyone on board should arm themselves and prepare to defend the ship at all costs."

"What the HELL is going on out there."

"Hey, do you hear that?"

"It sounds like weapons fire."

"Yeah, probably on the deck ahead of us."

"Is that... screaming?"

"I'm getting out of here."

"How, the security field..."

"... has been disconnected when we went to emergency power."

"Escaping the brig is considered a capital offense. They shoot you for that."

"Yes, but whatever's invading the ship will probably shoot us before they can get to that."

"Jar, see what you can do."

"What were these ruins, Ensign?"

"I don't know Chief. I was just there to check for any available technology for R&D."

"Those shots are getting closer."

"Well then get your ass in gear, Jar."

"Aye Chief."

"Did you find anything?"

"No, just a high concentration of poly-obsidian compounds and residual nero-genic energy signatures."

"What?"

"Got it."

"Jar, can you hack into a weapons locker?"

"Sure Chief, why?"

"I know who's boarded the ship."

"Who?"

"Malthaians."

Rotating Alphabet Cypher

Village, Bending

Over the years of Genetic tampering with their human slaves, the Saurian scientists accidentally spawned abilities that would herald their own destruction. Though not possessed of the abilities needed to control their ships or to contact their home world, the human slaves began to show that they could influence the simple elements.

When these abilities would manifest, the subject would be simply taken away to be eaten as a failed experiment. In time, however, some of those who were able to tap into these abilities escaped out into the wilds and hid amongst the many tribes of free humans.

Some were able to use their minds to push and pull the waters of the rivers or find water even in the most arid of land. They became known as the River-Benders as they were able to 'bend' the course of the water to deepen it or even to cause them to drown the Saurians who would attack their villages.

The River-Benders were the first of the Benders in the Tribes. They could lower the waters of a river to allow the People to escape the raids. Those tribes where River-Benders were born more and more frequently began a new religion of worshiping the Goddess of the Moon as many of the Benders were women and their abilities ebbed and flowed with the turning of the moon.

In time, the River-Bending tribes bore those who did not push and pull the waters, but who struck out with a rage-fired hatred to burn the Saurian hunters. These children, almost always male, became known as the Fire Nomads.

The Fire Nomads do not bend the flow of rivers, but rather focus their hatred and their rage on a single point and can ignite fires with a focused thought. Some have learned to harness their emotions and can super-heat the air around them to send out wave after wave of heat which will ignite any material save earth and stone within several yards around them or direct it in a wave. Most Fire Nomads chafe at the emotions of others around them; empathicaly feeling the thirst for freedom and revenge of whole villages. Just as the River-Benders' abilities ebb and flow with the turning of the moon, the Fire Nomads' abilities seem to be linked to the rising and setting of the sun, for as the sun sets behind the hills so too does their fury.

As the nomads wander from village to village, enjoying the solace of a peaceful mind when away from the sway of others, a third variety of Bender was discovered; Earth-Singers.

The Earth-Singer's origins are a bit of a mystery. Few are able to tell how they began, but their importance in the resistance to the Saurian hunting parties is without question. Earth-Singers are, by the power of their powerful shouts, send tremors through the ground and open chasms. As though the earth itself had a voice, the Singers can call up huge boulders from under the ground to create impenetrable walls with which to protect the People or turn the land into a quagmire of quick-sand. Many of the Earth Singers have retreated into the north where the Saurians will not attack. The long winters drive them into a hibernating state where they're vulnerable. Unfortunately, the north is fraught with poor growing seasons and so they were in a continual state of semi-starvation for many years. If it weren't for the green-hearted Wood-Benders they would have never been able to survive.

No tribe has been able to remain in the same location for long. Saurian raiders burn their crops or attack in such numbers that they overwhelm their defenses. It is for this reason they are collectively referred to as "The Tribes". Even the Forest-Folk, who have moved away from the Rivers for the relative security of their thick wooden walls, must move from time to time. However, the northern Earth-Kingdom have carved several cities out of the rock. With the help of the first of the Wood-Benders, they have coaxed life into the poorest soils and given the People new hope.

The Wood-Benders are a recent evolution in the Peoples ability to control the elements. Wood-Benders were found within the Forest-Folk but generally their abilities were slow to develop and generally not effective in defending their villages. Their powers could encourage the growth of plants and therefore they were useful in increasing the bounty of their crops, but when it came to a fight they were ineffectual. Legends in the Forest-Folk say that one of the Wood-Benders used their powers on a field where an injured man had hidden himself. The field was harder to coax into life, but it turned out that the added difficulty was because the man was severely burned. The Bender had no idea that he was healing anyone, but since the man was in contact with the earth, his injuries were thought to be a 'sickness' to be cured by the Wood-Bender's touch.

The news of the healing abilities of the Wood-Benders spread from village to village as fast as a Fire Nomad. Tribes far and wide would barter for the Forest Folk's healers to come and live with them to heal their injured and sick - those who were normally caught by the Saurian raiders as they couldn't keep up with the cycles of annual migration.

Village: Saurian Invasion

The big threat to the people of this world are the Saruaians.

The saurians are a race of sentient, bipedal, reptiles - they have hunted the Peoples for over 200 years.

Some theorize that the Saurians were not from this world but came during the Seven Days of Fire, when the "Time Before" was forgotten.

Now the Saurians stage raids against the many tribes of the Peoples - dragigng them back to be food in their outposts and cities.

The Saurian temple-cities have, at their heart, the remains of their huge ships - now unable to fly.

The hunters are stranded on this planet but they are surrounded by ever-renewing food source - humans.

Their mighty technology has been lost over the decades. Like with Man's early efforts to fight off the invaders, they eventually ran out of fuel and ammo.

The human armies all over the world burned themselves out but they only thinned out the numbers of the Saurians. Humanity escaped from the cities nad fled into the Wilds to avoid the hunting bands of Saurian raiders.

Their hunters come in the hottest times, when the sun keeps them hte most active. They ride upon large lizards similar to Komodo dragons. Human captives, almost always males, are caught and bound so that they can be slung across the backs of their monstrous mounts. Saurians are keep to use barbed darts to drug their targets to slow their movements but preserve them for a fresh kill.

The Saurian ships were eventually burried by armies of captured slaves. The ships have become the hive centers of their outposts, but they were severely damaged in their invasion. The heat that they maintain needed to be kept within the hull (to keep them active at night and to protect their egg chambers) required that the hull be completely insulated with a thick layer of dirt.

This gave their ships the appearance of a large termite mound.

Once the ships were covered, the slaves became food and farm stock. In time, the Saurians had to expand their colonies and move away from the human farms and their ships. These satelite colonies need regular supplies of food so they have to hunt humans; normally once a moon. Smart leaders of these outpost-colonies will try and capture mating pairs of humans to create their own farms.

Lake Island

Maltharians in Space

"Sir, Maltharian Heavy Cruiser decloaking off the starboard bow."

"What? Are they charging weapons?"

"She's launching shadow-fighters."

"Dammit! Hail them!"

"Receiving transmission sir. We're to stand down our weapons and clear out of their way."

"What?!"

"They claim a right of revenge on the Tanari Fleet."

"The whole fleet?"

"Aye Sir."

"Blood Oath...damn."

"They're crazy."

"No Ensign, they're Maltharians. o as they said. Get us out of the fight."

"Yes Sir."

"But not too far. I want to see this."

"Sir, nothing can stand up against the combined firepower of a Tanari fleet."

"You've not seen Maltharians in battle, son. No Tanari ship will survive."

"Sir, incoming transmission from the lead Tanari ship."

"On Screen."

"Captain, stand down your ship and prepare to be boarded. Surrender yourself and I'll spare your mutanous crew."

"I think you have bigger problems, Admiral."

"Blashphemers! Target Margosa's ship and inform the Maltharians not to interfere."

"Shadow-Fighters on approach, Admiral."

"Good bye, Admiral."

"Destroy the Inferno! Captain Margosa must not be allowed to escape!"

"Admiral, our weapons are off line."

"What?!"

"Intruder alert. Intruder alert."

"I'd get to an escape pod if I were you, Admiral."

"Impossible."

"They're coming out of the shadows all over the ship!"

"Security lock-down. Repell borders."

"I'll see you are damned for this, Margosa."

"Watch out for Shadows, Admiral. Sometimes they move."

Something for another blog