[FWC 17] - The Whitefield Report

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[FWC 17] - The Whitefield Report

#1 Post by NuclearBird »

Note: Rated M for Violence, Swearing, Gore-ish content, mentions of Sex and for featuring the Templar Order in a semi-positive light
Allow me to present: Chapter 1 - Cutting my vacation short is not a good way to start my day

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Sound-Crystal recording, Survivor Interrogation, Whitefield Research Outpost Incident
Interrogator: Roger Edelfeld
Subject: Charles Silverlock

      So how do you want me to do this?

      Start from the beginning? Fine.

      Long ago the world was naught but primordial chaos, where storms raged and the earth shook raging, where-

      What? Oh, you only meant the part where I come in. My bad.

      Look, we both know what happened so there's no need to sugarcoat it: It was an absolute catastrophe and the fact that we, the Templar Order were involved at all should be an example of how NOT to handle these crises. As for the incident itself, I was barely involved. I was sent there for who knows what reasons, since I never bothered to read that far into the heads up letter they sent me. All I know is that everything went pear shaped days BEFORE I arrived, and for most of that time, I wasn't even awake. I mean for Void's sake I- What? Fine.

      I'll start over, from when I was still in Morlin...

      It’s been days since I returned from my previous mission, I’m tired, I’m spent and all I want to do is just repair my equipment, then lay back and concentrate on my own hobbies, instead of whatever mess that I’ve been sent to fix. Fortunately, I recently managed to extort some downtime from him and I intend to use it to its fullest extent. By that I mean working on some obscure problems in enchanting and alchemy. Call me a workaholic, but I find it a uniquely relaxing activity. And relaxation is exactly what I need to take my mind off things. So I sit at my workbench in the middle of my chambers, crafting, infusing, weaving and carving magic into any shape and form I desire. It’s a mentally demanding process that consumes your attention for days at a time, just like this particular instance. My concentration is interrupted by a knocking sound coming from the door. My attention returns to reality and I notice the rays on sunlight filterin gin through the windows and skylight. It’s morning already? I must have worked all night. It’s not that surprising to anyone who has spent time around me. I get up from my workbench and make my way to the door. I undo the latches, yes, latches I’ve installed after my dear little sister Mary decided to double down on sibling rivalry. Having undone the latches, I open the door to find a fox waiting for me, a very specific one at that: The Grand Templar’s personal messenger. This can’t be good.

      "What is it, can’t you see it’s too early for this?" It really is too early for this. Her posture shifts to a frightened state.

      "F-Forgive me, sir. The Grand Templar has requested you presence in his office, sir." What does the fossil want at this hour?

      "Tell him I’ll be there in an hour." With that I close the door and head to the sleeping area of my chambers, taking off and throwing my dirty clothes into a growing pile next to my bed. I head over to the bathroom and use an enchanted bracelet on my left hand to activate the enchantments on the bathing pool, signalling it to prepare a warm bath. While the water warms up, I take new clothes out of my drawers and arrange them on my bed: underwear, made from wool enchanted to be especially comfortable and waterproof, wool socks, cotton shirt, pants and belt, and a pair of sandals made from infused black pine wood. I also prepare a pouch containing a modest charge of mana.

      Having done that, I wait for my bath to warm up, then I step in and clean myself up. After drying myself, I don my clothes and make my way to the door. I step out and lock the door and start walking. I make a detour to the kitchens to grab some breakfast and to gather some gossip. My efforts on both fronts are fruitful. There’s still a loaf of fresh bread waiting for me and rumour has it that Seer Brahn has found a lover for himself. I don’t have much time to dwell on the fact that the shy guy has found someone to drool after even as I make my way to the Grand Templar’s office, which for some reason is located on the opposite side of the College as all other important buildings.

      I arrive to the bouble doors separating me from the source of my newest annoyance and I waste no time in opening them and stepping in. The old man is in his usual place, at his desk, going over what looks like a letter, judging by the messenger pigeon sitting by the open window. It’s at that moment that he deigns me worthy of being adressed.

      "Good. You’re here earlier than I expected. I’ll be straight to the point: You’re being given a new assignment." What?

      "Good morning to you too, grandfather. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I distinctly remember you giving me a few weeks off from my duties." The worst part is that I already have my calendar full.

      "I know that, but this is an urgent matter. Your involvement wa specifically requested."

      "Really now, who would be desperate enough to want ME involved? is it bandits, warlocks, witches, rebels, or perhaps-"

      "Be quiet and I will tell you!" he snaps at me. I go deathly still. He isn’t usually this easy to rile up. It must be serious.

      "Alright, I’ll bite. Who do I have to bail out of the fire, and where?" I’m not exactly the kind of Templar who’s suited for diplomatic missions. My talents are more suited towards… More overt operations tha sometimes require covert overtness along with firepower. You should know that already, given that I was apprenticed to Master Raynaud… Yes, the very same one.

      "There’s a situation at one of our research outposts. Your mission is to investigate and resolve whatever problems that might have occured" He gazes at me with that look in his eyes. You know the one. That ’everything has gone to hell and I need you to un-[censored] this’ look. Yeah, there is such a look. I’ve been in this longer than you and I’ve seen it enough times to recognize it.

      ”Okay, so someone’s pet experiment has gone wrong, what’s the catch?” I’ve been to all of three of those outposts and none of those trips ended well, and they usually involved a great amount of fire, none of which were my fault.

      "You should be familiar with the location, since you’ve been there before." I don’t like the tone of voice you’re using old man "In fact, your prior experience with the locale will be useful in completing your objectives." Wait, he can’t mean- "Your destination is near Whitefield." Damn it, old man! Have you lost your mind?

      I’ve been to Whitefield before. I don’t like the place, and its people, specifically the Elector Lord living there doesn’t like me. At all. In fact, I nearly died the last time I was there. The only thing that saved me was the fact that I’m a high ranking member of the Templar Order, with all the perks that it grants me to this day- Huh? WHY was I almost killed there? Well, I got rather close with his daughter and let’s leave it at that.

      "I’m sorry, but what? You DO remember what happened the last time I was there, right?"

      "Don’t get so irritated, you won’t even come close to the town itself. Your destination is in the highlands." ah, the Whitefield Highlands. Situated south of the Whitefield ruins and north of Whitefield town, also being the location of the Whitefield outpost. Very original naming scheme, no?

      "Oh. Babysitting, then?" Please say yes, I'm in desperate need of an assignment where I can just lay back.

      "We don’t know yet, that’s why I’m sending you. Considering your record so far, you’ll be able to handle it."

      "So you’re sending me in blind? That’s new." Not like it’s the prelude to the kind of mission that makes up the majority my career, no sir.

      "No, this time you will be traveling with an attache." he hands me an envelope "His name is Edwin Mercer. You two are to meet at South Belan, there’s a ship waiting for you." Wonderful. I get to be followed around by some muppet I’ve never met while most likely attempting not to die from some dangerous monster or crazed mage.

      "How much time do I have to pack up?" Knowing the old man, not much. But I can still hope.

      "You have until tomorrow morning to reach the ship." You’ve gotta be kidding.

      "I should go then." At this moment I get ready to haul [censored].

      "You may do so. Dismissed." Whatever. Prick.

      And just like that, I take off towards my chambers, arriving there in record time. I throw off my casual wear and open up a secure trunk containing my equipment. A pair of gloved vambraces, containing enough mana pearls to last days and engraved with a variety of patterns and runes to act as focii during combat. A pair of boots goes with them, their soles enchanted to provide grip in any terrain. A utility belt and bandoliers, holding a dozen pouches reay to be filled with crystals, scrolls, bolts and potions of all kinds. Next: artifacts of all kinds, charms I’ve gathered over the years, followed by a fighting dagger covered in runes and holding a flawless gem at the base of its hilt.

      In the most secure and locked down compartment lies the crown jewel of my collection: The suit. THE Suit. I don’t know who made it. I merely recieved it as payment from a certain dragon for a big favor I did for her. It doesn’t look like much. Pads of enchanted light armor that go over the knees, elbows, pelvis, spine and collarbone. All of that is connected by a gray, leather-like, magic absorbing mana-weave, its thin layered patterns seemingly imitating the structure of human musculature. All of that combines into what I can confidently say is the most advanced mage gear in the world. It protects its wearer from most spells used in combat and it can keep its occupant alive in nearly every biome found on this planet, execpting perhaps the ocean itself and the lava filled calderas of active volcanoes. It’s a piece of art, a monumental achievement of crafting and arcane engineering. And I have absolutely no idea how it works.

      I waste no time in pondering the mysteries of my most valuable gear as I quickly slide my nearly naked from into the suit, engaging the buttons that hold it together. I put on my boots and buckle on the belt and bandoliers. Last step: buttong up the topmost button. With that, the suit just, contracts, into shape, for a lack of a better term. It goes from slightly skinny to full skintight in a metter of seconds. The best part: I can’t even feel the material chafing up against my skin and body hair. Out of all features that one may be the most practical, followed directly by its streamlined shape. Moving towards the door, I remember to throw on some loose clothing and cloak bearing the sigil of the order. I also make a quick detour to my alchemy station, filling up some pouches with any potion I might need in the field. I put the dagger in a concealed pocket on the inside of the jacket covering my suit. I also grab a pouch filled with money, seeing as I’m going to be traveling to a place that’s not so fond of me, a bit of cash for bribery would help out.

      All of that done, I step out and close my door, this time going over the wards and locks multiple times. When I turn around, though, I find the one face I didn’t expect to see. Mary, looking none to happy at my appearance.

      "Going out again, Charlie? I thought you were on vacation." Yeah, no wonder why no suitor has even approached her. She’s intimidating when she’s angry. And her hair really brings out the fury in her eyes.

      "I was supposed to, but you know me. I simply can’t get enough of work." Jokes on you, sister. between the two of us, you’re the workaholic.

      "That so? You haven’t forgotten about the courses you promised to lecture this year, have you?" Yeah, but only AFTER you guilt tripped me into doing it. I sigh, giving up on any argument I could even attempt to mount against her.

      "Look, sis. This is urgent business. Can’t you find someone else? At least for the next three weeks or so?" Her expression shifts to further annoyance.

      "Fine. But you owe me for this, do you understand?"

      "Crystal. If you’ll excuse me, I have a ship to catch. Goodbye." And just like that, I’m off. I try not to think about the angry sibling I’m leaving there, or how much I just managed to ruin her day-

      "Yeah, goodbye you dummy. Just try not to kill yourself..." That’s… new. She’s never been this sweet before. I waste no time pondering that revelation as I make my way to the stables and commandeer the fastest horse I can find.

      By sunrise on the next day, I’ve arrived at the harbor and would you look at that, there IS a ship waiting for me. Even better, it looks like it’s one of those fast courier ships, the ones that can go from Wrethwood to Edinmire in less than two weeks. Judging by the weather, we’ll be near Twin Lakes in mmere days. That cheers me up a bit as I approach the docks. I call the captain and present him with the envelope I was given. Reporting in goes better and smoother than I expected and I’m on board in no time. He also informs me that ’the other one’ arrived a short while ago. I inquire about that and he points a man on deck who doesn’t seem to fit in with the rest of the small crew. He walks up to the me and the captain and I’m once again pleasantly surprised at my shattered expectations.

      That’s when I’m introduced to Edwin Mercer.

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AN: Okay, this is it. The first chapter, or should I say Prologue to my first ever work of writing. I finally have the time and excuse to put my imagination on paper, or should I say on keyboard.
One thing you should know is that I have the whole thing planned out, from beginning to end, it's the middle I'm unsure of. Also, as you've noticed, the whole thing is told in first person present tense. This is a stylistic choice. The narrator IS narrating his experiences as he remebers them, in the context of an interrogation.
Having said that, I hope you enjoy this fustercluck masquerading as amateur literature because I'll be updating this until the end of the writing contest, maybe even beyond depending on the situation.
2017.11.18. OK, I completely rewrote Chapter 1 to make it flow better into the rest. Chapter 2 is ETA Monday, November 20.
2017.11.19. Changed the title since I wasn't too satisfied with how it flows, and removed the NSFW tag, given the slight change in direction.
If the universe is infinite, does that mean that there is a version of me out there who's thinking the exact same thing?

While we're on the topic of alternate universes, is there one where I'm a lawyer? If yes, then I may be more evil than I thought.

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Re: [FWC 17][NSFW] - Whitefield Incident Report

#2 Post by wolf_Appledore999 »

QUite an interesting story thus far. Is this before or after the Canon story? Just curious is all. Also, good luck in the Contest.

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NuclearBird
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Re: [FWC 17][NSFW] - Whitefield Incident Report

#3 Post by NuclearBird »

wolf_Appledore999 wrote: Sun Nov 12, 2017 6:55 am QUite an interesting story thus far. Is this before or after the Canon story? Just curious is all. Also, good luck in the Contest.
It's set about 25 years before canon, so I have a lot of wiggle room when it comes to how events play out. The most difficult part, I think is balancing the narration between moving the story forward and reflecting the mind of the narrator.
If the universe is infinite, does that mean that there is a version of me out there who's thinking the exact same thing?

While we're on the topic of alternate universes, is there one where I'm a lawyer? If yes, then I may be more evil than I thought.

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wolf_Appledore999
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Re: [FWC 17][NSFW] - Whitefield Incident Report

#4 Post by wolf_Appledore999 »

NuclearBird wrote: Sun Nov 12, 2017 9:18 am
wolf_Appledore999 wrote: Sun Nov 12, 2017 6:55 am QUite an interesting story thus far. Is this before or after the Canon story? Just curious is all. Also, good luck in the Contest.
It's set about 25 years before canon, so I have a lot of wiggle room when it comes to how events play out. The most difficult part, I think is balancing the narration between moving the story forward and reflecting the mind of the narrator.
That does sound like a tough thing. My story is around the same time as the Canon, but doesn't interfere due to where I'm taking the story.

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Re: [FWC 17] - The Whitefield Report

#5 Post by NuclearBird »

Well, here it is, just like I said. I wanted to whip this into shape before Sunday, but my schedule conflicted with that plan. Anyway, I'll try to get chapters three and four out ASAP, probably by next Sunday. Now, without further ado:
Chapter 2 – Is this what you call a welcome party, where’s the cake?

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      I’m sure you already know what happened on the ship. Oh, you do? Okay that makes things a lot simpler.

      Can we just skip to the part where we arrive? Alright…

      Edwin Mercer is nothing like I assumed he would be. I expected to meet some fresh meat trainee just out of his apprenticeship, with no field experience outside the routine station and outpost checkups prescribed by the college. Mercer is nothing like that. You only need to observe his posture and you would realize he’s seen combat. He talks like a grunt, a proper footsoldier and not like the average templar, his word choice is more suited for a sailor and his sense of humor I would rather not mention. Not to mention his disdain for armchair authority. In short, he’s exactly my kind of guy. We hit it off immediately.

      The journey itself is rather boring, consisting of doing nothing but sleeping, joking around, watching the waves roll by and gambling with the crew. Yeah, even the captain joined in, believe it or not.

      Then, on day four, we recieve a surprise: a messenger pigeon, bearing a red ribbon on it’s leg. That means T-R-O-U-B-L-E. The letter that came with it makes it worse:

Case Red. Security compromised. We don’t know how long we will hold out. Bring reinforcements. – Templar Claire Eliza Roberts

Below it is another message, in a different handwriting:

We already prepared the Twin Lakes contingent for deployment, they are ready to move when you arrive. Make haste. – Watch Commander Jorg Christoffson

      Needless to say, that put us on edge. Good thing I came loaded for bear, right? Well, int hat moment, I’m more concerned with the first message, specifically the name at the end. Before you ask, yes, I know her. We used to see each other and unlike my other romantic conquests, we parted on good terms. The real reason for my concern is that I know her, we’ve fought in the same group years ago. I can tell you that she is one of the most stubborn and tenacious creatures I’ve ever met. If she’s desperate enough to send a message for help, then things really have gone to hell.

      I have to get there, fast.

      Luckily, that’s exactly what happens. We arrive at the docks on day five, and wouldn’t you know it, there’s someone waiting for us already. Watch Commander Christoffson, no doubt.

      "Commander Christoffson, I assume? I’m Templar Silverlock and this is my aide, Templar Mercer. We recieved your forwarded message. We are ready to move immediately." I waste no time for introductions, we’re wasting time as is.

      "A pleasure to have you, Master Templars. We have been on high alert for days now. It’s good to know that you arrived in short order." He sounds professional enough, but there's something else in his voice that I can't quite put my finger on. Regardless, I get down to business straight away.

      "We are to embark immediately. Have you been informed on the nature of our destination?" He shakes his head. "Templar Mercer will brief us on the way. Have you prepared transportation?" That one, he nods at. "Good. We’ll meet you at the barracks shortly."

      With that, we separate, him going back into the town, and us meeting with the captain. Standard fare, negotiations on the shipping fee, and the inevitable return fare. I lose half my money on that. Luckily, it seems like we’ll be avoiding any major encounter with the Lord of Whitefield or his cronies. The captain informs us that he will wait no more than twenty one days, in other words, as long as the winds allow. I find no problem with that as Mercer and I make our way towards the barracks.

      For a town the size of Twin lakes, it sure as hell has a large contingent of standing guard. I once heard an explanation why, but I don’t remember. Someting about wolf marauders and raiders moving deep into our territoy. Honestly, I don’t pay as much attention to these things as used to. In this line of work, you learn quickly that any amount of planning against raiders and marauders has a high probability to fall apart. In my experience, improvisation and firepower can make up for a [censored] plan most of the time, and for everything else, setting it on fire usually works.

      Back to the barracks. We arrive and we see and entire platoon, geared up for war. I expected a bunch of half trained boys and grizzled old trappers, and for some of them, this assumption would be correct, but on the whole they also seem to be properly drilled in combat. That’s not even mentioning their equipment. Axes hanging off their waistbelts, lightning staves, LIGHTNING STAVES man. I never expected to see them in the hands of footsoldiers, but there they are, holding those wonderful instruments of death, and they seem to have modified them to be fired by non-mages as well.

      Roger, you just can’t fathom my joy at that moment. Lightning staves are some of the most effective ways to fend off large beasts and some of the most dangerous enemies you can find, short of a dragon. The average example can release enough power in a single bolt to kill bears. BEARS. Plural. You know what they say, right? If it puts down a bear then it’s all good for me. And boy, is it ever.

      You may be wondering at my fanatical admiration of lightning, but you probably haven’t served under Master Raynaud. He was unlike any taskmaster you can imagine. Do you know how he trained us? He drilled every useful combat spell into our heads until we could cast them from instinct alone. He made us exercise all day until we were collapsing from the stress. He fed us all sorts of poisonous draughts to train our resistance to even the most toxic field brewed potions imaginable. Half of the recruits straight up failed his exams, but those who came out the other side? Holy hell, he made us into some of the most lethal magic users on the continent by far. Most of my reputation, you can attribute to Master Jaques Raynaud, may he kick [censored] in in the afterlife.

      Returning from my tangent now…

      The soldiers look like soldiers. They even stand disciplined like them. That’s VERY good. People may call me a One Man Army, but that’s because of the firepower I bring to bear. Anyway, we wave down the Commander, get on some horses we’ve been generously provided and we’re off at a marching pace. If the weather stays calm like it is, we can get there in a few days.

      We march North-Northwest, along an unmarked stone road leading into the highlands. The first half is pure uphill, the rest runs across the karst riddled ground of the raised mass of rock known as the Whitefield highland. All you have to know about the terrain is that if it weren’t for the mostly freezing temperature, then the whole surface would be pockmarked with hole springs, sinkholes and cave entrances, that’s not even getting into how treacherous the ground can be. In one moment you could be standing on solid ground, next thing you notice the ground under your feet is collapsing into a massive cavern carved out by the slow trickle of water over eons. The only terrains worse than that are grassy sand plains and swamplands. Why do you think we have an entire division of dedicated geomancer? They don’t just help to maintain our continental highways, they also help build them AND stabilise the soil to a sufficient depth. But enough about geomechanics. The point is, we are EXTREMELY careful as we march and camp along the old road leading to the outpost.

      In the short time intervals when we aren’t moving, we’re busy preparing for continencies. We come up with a simple plan of action: Christoffson and the majority of his men will secure the perimeter and prevent anything from entering or leaving without express approval. Meanwhile Mercer and I will commandeer the soldiers most experienced with close quarters combat. Sounds strange, doesn’t it? Let me tell you why it’s a perfectly logical course of action.

      The outpost is mostly undeground. Sure there are some groundside structures but most of those are just there for expedience sake or for storage of bulk material, like firewood or cold preserved food. All of that is surrounded by a token stone wall, strengthened by some earthworks. Securing that is the easy part. The main issue is the underground section. I said I’ve been to Whitefield, but I didn’t clarify which one. I’ve been to THIS one, in case you were wondering. I know the caverns and the tunnels, I also know just how dangerous they can be even when everything is secure and locked down. It comes with the territory of bulding in limestone riddled with ruptures and faultlines.

      There are three natural caverns, two artificial chambers and a mess of natural tunnels and mineshafts connecting them. The central cave houses what I can only call one of the wonders of the world: The largest known crystal cave on the continent. it also acts as a hub for the entire outpost. Directly connected to that on the west side is the main object of research: A natural mana fissure, and among them it’s the strangest and most perplexing. What we know is that fissures can only form where strong leylines intersect, merge and branch out. This one, however is an anomaly among them. It’s a hotspot of arcane emmision in a barren wasteland. And we have no idea how it can exist.

      East of the main cavern is the main research complex, housing a variety of laboratories and workrooms, along with the barracks and resting areas. The south chambers consist of the cell blocks made for housing prisoners and all sorts of test subje- Don’t look at me like that, you KNOW what goes on in our research departments, how do you think we managed to learn so much about how the human body works, huh? Or how we managed to learn the weaknesses of our enemies? That’s right. You have NO room to complain, unlike the rookies who still have some naiveté in them. Good. At least we have that settled. Now, where was I?

      Right. South section: prisoner holding. I also heard rumours about a northern cavern being investigated, so I mark that down on the growing list of inquiries I intend to make with the local personnel, but at the moment, I’m more concerned with forming an ad hoc close quarters combat unit with a squad of the aforementioned soldiers. We make minimal modifications to our equipment. We tighten the straps on our helmets, check our mana supply if we have them, saw off the lower half of our staves- Yeah, we do that, why do you ask? No, they still work. Most of the important parts are above the midsection. Anyway, we saw off everything below the middle gripping surface. Them not being mages, the guard use modified examples with multiple crystals embeeed in the grips, along with a trigger based firing mechanism, not unlike a crossbow, or a flare launcher. The fact that those also allow for the mounting of spearpoints, alng with their shortened length make lightning staves some of the most effective colse combat weapons I know, and that’s not just my fanaticism speaking.

      The moment we arrive I immediately order a perimeter to be set up, and for the two entrances to be secured, the one at the south side, and the one at the east end. It takes little time for the soldiers to do so, and we immediately get our first stumble in the plan. The south side is blown open, it’s just a gaping entrance, leading into a collapsed corridor. That’s when I snap out of my thoughts and notice the state of the topside structure.

      The whole place looks abandoned, the south wall looks like it’s been blasted, that’s nothing to say of the building housing the entrance. Every door we see is thrown open or lies away from their place, ripped right out of their hinges. The east entrance is similarly abandoned, the inner stables are completely empty, the storehouses look like they’re ready to collapse, and the fact that their contents have been exposed to the elements for what looks like weeks, none of that bodes well for us. The only consolation is that the remaining entrance looks intact, if closed off from the inside. I waste no time in ordering it to be opened.

      The first thing we do is to knock first, you know. We’re no barbarians. Plus, knowing the layout, there could be survivors holed up in the two stage gate room. It doesn’t take long for us to get a reaction. The gate opens up into the airlock, revealing about six or seven dishelved individuals staring a tus like we’re a host of angels. Looking at them, I can’t argue with that assumption. They look ready to give up, like they’ve been across [censored] creek up and down, and the look in their eyes, I’ve seen it before. Battle fatigue, they call it. It happens when you’re under stress for too long and your body’s just stuck running on high alert as you slowly break down from the inside, trying to stay awake. It’s not a pretty sight. It’s even worse when you’re a magic user.

      "Listen everyone, we’re here to help. Who’s leading this group?" No time for pleasantries, I need to know the situation NOW. Someone stands up at my words, and would you know it, it’s someone I know. Claire.

      "Charlie, is that you? Oh thank all the gods, we thought you would never arrive." Like the rest, she looks worse for wear. They must’ve used up their rations days ago. Her voice, she sounds like she’s given up long ago. That’s the complete opposite of the woman I know.

      "Well, we’re here, aren’t we? We can catch up on lost time later, what I need to know right now is what happened and just how bad the damage is." I distinctly remember the entire complex having a lot more than seven people on site, more like twenty or thirty.

      She nods weakly and starts her explanation. It’s worse than I thought. Much worse. The whole complex has fallen under a variety of troubles, the least of which is also the most immediate:

      The prisoners are loose, and they have taken the armory.

---------------||---------------

AN: Whoo, this one took a while to make, along with the revised first chapter. I also removed the [NSFW] tag, seeing as the actual content wound up being rather tame, aside from the autocensored swearing.
If the universe is infinite, does that mean that there is a version of me out there who's thinking the exact same thing?

While we're on the topic of alternate universes, is there one where I'm a lawyer? If yes, then I may be more evil than I thought.

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Re: [FWC 17] - The Whitefield Report

#6 Post by backonninja »

This is great so far. I'd love to see this continued even after the FWC is over. Keep up the good work!

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Re: [FWC 17] - The Whitefield Report

#7 Post by NuclearBird »

backonninja wrote: Tue Nov 21, 2017 3:31 am This is great so far. I'd love to see this continued even after the FWC is over. Keep up the good work!
Oh, don't you worry. That was my intention from the very beginning.
If the universe is infinite, does that mean that there is a version of me out there who's thinking the exact same thing?

While we're on the topic of alternate universes, is there one where I'm a lawyer? If yes, then I may be more evil than I thought.

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Re: [FWC 17] - The Whitefield Report

#8 Post by NuclearBird »

AN: Guess what? I found some free time this Friday! That means I can write the last two-three chapters to my heart's content!
Also, the usual warnings apply for language. Especially for this chapter.

Allow me to present: Chapter 3 – Why did it have to be big crawlies?

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      I assume you already have testimonies from the others… Right, I’ll skip the boring parts then.

      As I said just now, according to the survivors the prisoners are loose, the armory is theirs and we are stuck with them in a cramped space with little room to maneuver. It’s a nightmare for anyone posessing even a lick of tactical acumen. Firepower, numbers, equipment, all of that is just negated by the terrain, namely the cave system itself. You know why we never managed to invade wolf territory? As it turns out, mountain passes are uniquely suited for defensive engagements, cave systems are similar, with the added fun of attempting to avoid collapsing a mountain’s worth of rock on your head. Needless to say, none of our troop down there are keen on fighting the prisoners.

      Fortunately, we manage to work out a new plan of action: We hand out some improvised magic mirrors, made from old hand sized mirrors, to help us coordinate. We also split up into two groups. Mercer takes about sixty percent of the guys already underground and I take the other forty. Meanwhile Christoffson ensures that no living thing comes in OR out without our say so. It’s a simple plan. Anyway, Mercer’s group is supposed to fan out into the southern section through the main cavern and the criss-crossing tunnels connecting the east and south sections. Meanwhile, I’m taking about ten guys to the northern cavern to investigate their newest findings, and of course rescue som trapped eggheads who were cut off from the rest.

      The hardest part, I think was convincing Claire’s people to open the inner airlock to let us pass through. For some reason that shouzld have been a tipoff, but right then and there I didn't care. That done, we split up and head towards our respective objectives. It starts off slowly, we’re careful with our steps, constantly checking every shadow and corner while we walk, weapons drawn, ready to zap anything that would dare to get in our way. Me? I’m holding up a light sphere so we can see in the tunnels. Honestly, I wish I hadn’t done that.

      The walls are covered in moss, mold and fungi. None of that should be there. The torches that are supposed to light up the way look like they burned out long ago. In some crevices, we even see things that look like spiderwebs. That sets off a variety of questions in my head. The tunnels are supposed to be clean and free of infestation. We don’t make it much further before we get our answer. There’s an arm lying on the floor, unattached to a body. Beyond it, the tunnel is practically covered and blocked by the densest spiderweb I’ve ever seen. The filaments themselves are thicker than the legs of most spiders in the world, save for some truly horrifying examples found in the tropics. THESE webs, though? Bad news. Very bad.

      "Mercer, you there? We just found one of the prisoners, what’s left of them at least." Please be alive, you son of a [censored]. I don’t want to deal with this alone.

      "No [censored], boss. Our guys just found what put them down. Did you know spiderwebs can grow THIS big?" No Mercer, I thought it was cotton candy. At least we seem to share THIS particular phobia.

      What, you didn’t know Roger? I’m not surprised. I managed grow out of my arachnophobia through exposure and time. THIS? This just brought it back full force, with vengeance and gusto.

      "We should have geared up with more fire. Won’t count for [censored] now. Mercer, tell your boys to pop some torches. We have to burn our way through. Put up a barrier around yourselves and report back immediately once you get to the armory." Place should have SOME fire staves, mothballed they may be. At least I hope so. I don’t want to face whatever made those webs without a wall of fire between me and them.

      "Claire, you said the prisoners took the armory, are there any other places where your people stored weapons, tools, supplies, anything wecould use?" Please say yes, woman. My life depends on it.

      "Yes, but they’re all in the northern section, and those are only store rooms. You may find some stashes but the rest are filled with artifacts we’ve recovered." North it is. I’d rather deal with ancient, trap ridden caves.

      "Right. Mercer, you hear that? I’m going north, we’ll meet up in the center if possible."

      "Understood, boss. Good hunting." Same to you, man. Same to you…

      "Alright boys, get ready to burn [censored]. Light up those torches, keep your sticks ready and watch the flanks. On me." And off we go through the corridors. In hindsight, I wish we had just turned back.

      As we move along, the tunnels start to lose more and more of their original look. The square, angular walls make way for webs, moss, and what I can only assume to be the remains of the escaped prisoners. Even worse, the deeper we go, the more we start to hear a chorus of chittering noises coming from all around us. As if we weren’t [censored] our pants enough already, we’re snapped out of our terror by a scream coming from among us. Something bursts out of a patch of wall and grabs one of us. It happens so fast, we can’t even react, not even me. Worse, the whole corridor starts rumbling, pieces of the ceiling start dropping. Tunnel collapse.

      I dodge a piece of falling debris, uncaring of where I land. All I care about is not dying from falling rock. Dust is spewed everywhere, I can’t even seewhat’s in front of me, so I use hearing and touch to navigate. Then, just as it started, it’s over. Everything goes quiet, for a moment even the chittering has stopped. I get on my feet and dust off what I can and check my equipment. The bandolier of potions is ruined, their contents are spilling onto my suit, mixing with the dust. I only manage to salvage a few healing, endurance and night vision potions, the rest is just gone. Half my mana crystals are also chipped, rendered useless. I’m like an eagle with clipped wings at this point, far below any potential performance. My mind snaps back from my reverie, are the soldiers alright? I get my answer when I look behind me, through a crack in the rocks blocking my way back. They’re alright, at least the ones who got away quickly. There are about four out of twelve left, the bugs must have gotten the rest.

      "Soldier, are you alright? Answer me!" The one closest to the rocks looks at me with a glassy stare. He’s in shock. As if things weren’t bad enough already, the chittering comes back, and this time it brings a vibration I feel through my entire body. Instinct kicks in and I cast a sphere of light into my hands and shine it at the poor guy. "Can you hear me?" The noise is getting closer by the second. "Get a grip, man! You’re about to die, for [censored]’s sake!" and like that, he snaps out of his dazed state and focuses on my direction, but he’s not looking at me. He’s looking at what he sees right behind me with whatever meager light my body isn’t blocking out. There’s air being displaced at me from whatever is crawling in here. But that means- The noise is right behind me. I turn right around, bringing the sphere between me and the corridor.

      Dozens of them. Each the size of a boar, crawling on every surface even the ceiling. They’re all covered in a brown, reddish carapace and thick whishers, their legs, four or six each are studded with sharp looking talons or claws and their maws, oh [censored] their maws… So many teeth and mandibles, howcanthatevenexist?! I struggle to hold the sphere through my panic attack, I grip on spell’s pattern like an existential umbilical cord. Just when I get my breathing under control, I notice something: they’re staying away from me, no, the light! They’re avoiding the light! I transfer the sphere to a telekinetic hold, and push it towards the beasts. They start screeching and spasming as the light reaches them, their carapaces burst into black, smoking spots. A few go literally belly up as they expireand the rest retreat back into the darkness. I just found their weakness. I’m still holding the sphere toward the darkness as I look back to the stunned trooper and tell him:

      "Listen, you have to take your buddies and return to the airlock! Tell them that the beasts down here are weak to light! Do you understand?" Come on, snap out of it soldier, we’re on the clock. This is no time for dying.

      "Yessir! Weak to light, and get back there!" Good man, if your career continues like this, you’ll even go professional some day. "What about you, sir?" [censored], I forgot about that! I’m still trapped between a rock and those [censored] spiders.

      "I’ll find a way through. Just go!" He finally gets up at that, even his buddies start packing at my orders. They give me a look of farewell as they start retreating through the tunnel, torches pointing in every direction. Right, now I just have to find my way through a whole nest of giant bugs, find some trapped eggheads and get some information about this whole cluster-[censored]. If only I had Mercer to provide banter- [censored], Mercer! At least the mirror is alright.

      "Mercer! We’ve encountered resistance! What’s your situation?! Answer me!" The other side is filled with screams, zaps and the screeching of beasts. Come on, be alive!

      "Yeah, no [censored]! We’ve got a few of them over here!" He sounds angry, that means he’s fine. New voices cut into the comm, "They’re coming out of the gods damned walls!" "They got Willy! The [censored] got Willy!" "It’s the light! Get some light on them!" "MY LEG! I can’t feel my leg!" "My staff is gone! Somebody cover me!"

      "Just get to the armory! I’ll try swinging around the west side and meet you there!" Key word is try.

      "[censored] you, bug [censored]!" He yells at something "Understood, boss. Don’t get killed!" Yeah, same to you.

      I put the mirror away and throw the rapidly draining sphere down the corridor. I have maybe a minute until it runs out of power and I can’t keep casting that spell while fighting off the monsters. Luckily, I get an idea: The pouches on my bandolier are fixed there by leather strings. Those same strings can hold mana crystals, specifically the ones that emit light. It’s the oldest trick in the field, and it always works. I quickly remove the unusable pouches and pull out my remaining crystals, fixing light emitting spells to them and tying them up in the leather. Before the minute is out I’m ready with two bandoliers of pure light shining in every direction. Too bad the staff didn’t survive the rocks. I decide to make do with my dagger and some clever usage telekinesis. I quickly find out that those long talons on the dead beasts’ legs are easily ripped off and launched at the bugs. Fortunately for me, there’s a supply of those ahead of me. My confidence starts to return as I pick up my pace again, I get into a rhythm of slaughter: backstep, dodge, grab with telekinesis, remove talons, launch at surviving bugs. I’m dancing through dozens of these bugs as they storm out of their hidey holes in the walls and floor.

      As I make my way through this hell, I notice a door to my right. Must be a storeroom, I think as I open it and step in. It is. It’s also a tomb for the unlucky son of a [censored] who got stuck int here. His body is slumped over a makeshift desk, the oil lamp has burned out long ago. I check the desk. There’s a not under the torso.

      If you find this then I’m already dead. When the beasts crawled out of the deep everyone scattered away from the center. I tried to reach the northern section with some of my friends, but I didn’t make it in time. They had already close dit from the other side and I didn’t have enough time to open it back up. Now I’m stuck in this side room, and the supplies I’ve stashed here for weeks are running out. If you find this note, then I’m giving you permission to take everything. I’ve been working on a weapon before all this, it’s in the bottom chest. You can take that as well. I’m already done for. The least I can do is go out on my own terms. Good thing I found some hemlock extract.

      Whoever this guy was, kudos to him. He may have just saved my life. I check every square inch of the room, looking for supplies. All I get from that is two crystals and a stamina potion, and I’ve already used two of the latter. Then I remember the note: there was a weapon. I check the only closed chest, the lock proves to be uncooperative to my lockpicking skills, but that’s what heat spells are for. Of course I let the molten padlock cool down before I open it. Let me tell you, Roger. The wait is worth it. Because when I look into the chst I find myself faced with the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen:

      Infused pine buttstock, enchanted steel mechanism, four laminated arms situated six blasting rods held together by twelve accelerator rings, two crossed manafiber strings holding the base of a bolt of pure, solid magic. Magic powered reloading and string pulling, hair trigger, secondary fuction as a casting focus. It’s the unholy offspring of a crossbow and a battle grade staff. It’s the storm god’s middle finger. And it’s mine now. The best part? It draws power from the environment. [censored] yeah.

      Basking in my newfound joy, I step out of the room back into the corridor and I’m immedietaly jumped on. Before it registers in my conscious mind, I’ve punched it into the opposing wall. I’m confused for a moment before the fact registers in my mind: The suit. I’ve forgotten about the suit. I’ve been wasting precious energy on spells and telekinesiswhen I have something much more efficient. With that realization, I fix my dagger on the crossbow’s front and ready my left glove for channeling. With my new weapon, I just gained a boost to my mana budget. Looking at the darkness ahead, a grin creeps across my face. I start walking, my paceincreases as I get closer and closer to the central cavern. The bugs start to make more and more noise as I keep spotting them in the distance before shooting them down. i reach the central cavern and guess what? I find the nest, alongside a huge, abyssal hole where the center is supposed to be. With no time to waste, I pop a sphere and throw it down the hole. As it descends, it reveals the fate of the crystal cave: sinkhole got it. And whatever primordial tunnels it opened up must have spewed out the bugs. Two mysteries down, a few more to go.

      Unfortunately, the bugs are still after me. Dozens of them, from all directions. Up, down, left and right, they’re [censored] everywhere. I make my decision: turn right, northwards. Like that, I’m off. I encounter some resistance on the way, but none of them emerge in front of me, only behind and to the sides. Something must have drawn them to the other parts of the cave system. Mercer and his troops must be giving these things hell.

      I arrive at the security door that separates the northern section from the rest. It’s big and heavy, made of solid iron, probably. I waste no time in undoing the latch. It’s more of a lever and worm gear type mechanism, though, like the ones you see on the more advanced ships we have. The kind that are made to be air- and watertight. The mechanism comes undone with some effort and time, and none too soon as I notice my life saving light crystals going out one by one. The chittering behind me grows louder and louder as I struggle to push the door open. I barely make a big enough gap to stumble in before they start to try pushing through. One of them grabs me. I turn my whole body using the leverage and kick that [censored] with all the force I can muster, it’s flying form knocks back some of it’s fellows, giving me just enough time to shove the door shut. I barely have the time to remember the locking mechanism when they start beating against the mass of metal between me and them. I find the mechanism and pull the lever next to the gearwheel. The mechanism slides shut, the door is closed again. Now for the missing eggheads. This section seems to have avoided most of the damage. I start walking down the fortunately still lit corridor. I barely get past the first corner when I find them.

      They’re all dead.

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AN: Posted 2017.11.24. 17:56 GMT+1:00
Three down, two or three more to go. I have time until Monday afternoon. I'll make it in time.
Also, please point out any errors I made, grammatical or continuity wise.
If the universe is infinite, does that mean that there is a version of me out there who's thinking the exact same thing?

While we're on the topic of alternate universes, is there one where I'm a lawyer? If yes, then I may be more evil than I thought.

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Re: [FWC 17] - The Whitefield Report

#9 Post by NuclearBird »

Not everything gets to be explained. Life is like that sometimes.

And for another unofficial title: Chapter 4 – DOA

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      "DAMN IT! Why does everything I ever deal with turn to complete chaos? Just once I want to have a nice, quiet assignment! Is that too much to ask for?" Well, apparently fate and her sister life disagree. They must really enjoy [censored] me at every turn! [censored]! All I can do at this point is vent my frustration at my situation. I’m trapped deep underground, for all I know I may just die down here and worst of all, I failed my main objective. Despite all that, I barely feel the rage and frustration that I should be experiencing. It’s the suit, you see. I don’t know how it does it, buti n hindsight, it’s probably the second most useful side effect of wearing it.

      Snapping out of my reverie I look around, making a closer inspection of the bodies. At first I thought they just died of starvation but my hypothesis is quickly disproven when I see what they look like. They’re all dry and shriveled up. Like mummies, or dried fruit. All that remains of them is their dried and contracted skin stretched over their skeletons. It’s as if something sucked all the water and blood out of their bodies. That’s when the realization comes. They recently dug out this part of the cavern. They installed thick security doors. I know they found something in here, since Claire mentioned artifacts being stored here. And now, these corpses who died of unnatural causes.

      Whatever killed them is still here. I almost released it. [censored]! I need to get out of here!

      Just as that thought hits me something changes in my surroundings. Have you ever felt like something’s watching you, that you’re not alone in an empty place? I don’t mean the ability to detect when somebody is scrying or using clairvoyance around you. I mean when there’s something stalking you. It’s a pretty distinctive feeling, and usually I’m not this spooked by it. But this time it’s different. There are no escaped prisoners down here, in fact I may be the only thing alive in the entire section. And yet… Well, it’s as I said.

      I take off through a corridor on the left side of the intersection. I don’t care if they found a tomb or even a temple full of treasures, I have to get out of here. I’m sprinting, my suit is muffling my steps, I’m following the corridor, making sure to retain my eastward direction. Suddenly I trip over something.

      I hit the gound and my weapon flies out of my hands, landing out of my reach. I’m dazed and my vision is blurry. I must have hit my head. I feel around my bandoliers, trying to reach for a potion but something I see interrupts me. the entire corridor is dark, save for the scant light coming off my equipment and despite that I can clearly see the shadows around me move and warp at that… thing’s approach. I can’t do anything against it, I’m so mesmerized by it’s unseen presence. Just as the warping reaches the edge of my illuminated space, I finally catch a glimpse at it’s form.

      Have you ever seen something that looks human, but you know it isn’t? Something that, while concealed and out of focus can create the illusion of being a living thing? Well this entity is much, MUCH worse. It’s like a living statue made of glued together pices of jagged, black stone and all the pieces are just jittering about like hairs or scales or as if they’re on the verge of flying out of their places and the whole shape. It’s as if it isn’t really there, like a mirage in the desert, parts and pieces shimmering and jumping into and out of my sight like fish coming up to the water surface and diving back down into the muddy depth, seemingly disappearing from visible reality. It’s surrounded by this dusty, smoky could of black wisps coming off of it’s form and all I can think of is the presence of black magic. But even that familiar, if disturbing fact is displaced by the sheer horrifying wrongness emanating off of it.

      I can’t react, I’m like a deer caught face to face with a hunter. It reaches out with an appendage and I can’t do anything as it grabs me by the torso, wrapping its black smoke around my form like some grotesque, malleable hand. It lifts me up to its height and I just go limp, like an animal being held by the back of it’s neck. The monster holds me before itself, it’s featureless stone head unmoving, as if it’s inspecting its kill. The suit, the suit is doing all it can to hold my mind calm butohgodsthisthing. It tilts its head slightly and lifts its other appendage towards my face. I can’t do anything to stop it. I’m gonna die here. I’ll never see the sun again! It touches my face and then, it sinks into my skull.

      Ice cold spikes sinking into my brain and burning all over my body. Pain like I’ve never felt before. My awareness wanes but I can still hear a voice screaming in my ears. Is that you Mercer, ot is it someone I killed long ago. Neither. It’s my voice, I realize just before I black out.

      Everything is a haze, I don’t even know if I’m still alive. Maybe I’ve been dead since the beginning. I’m not, I realize as I wake up on a cold stone floor. I feel it touching my bare skin. Can’t be, I’m wearing my suit, right? But it’s gone. I’m down to a shirt and underwear. Even my stored mana is gone. I’m [censored]. I get up and look around. No webs, torches alight, walls look unstained and the dust looks normal. I’m still alive and I look mostly unharmed, thank the gods. I’m in this large, circular chamber lined with obelisks, torches and glowing crystals.
This must be the place the eggheads unerthed before they died, I think as I look around. I notice that I’m elevated from the floor around me and I look for a reason why. It quickly becomes obvious: It’s an altar. [censored]! My heartbeat picks up as I gwet off the altar and look for an entrance I can leave through. I spot the end of a hallway just as I hear a noise behind me. I swear to every deity and spirit that exists I’ve never run as hard and fast as right then. I take off down the hallway and don’t look back.


      I don’t know how long I was at it, but somehow I wind up back at the doorway I entered through. There’s a monster behind me, but there’s also a whole nest of giant spiders on the other side and I’m even less equipped to deal with them now. But I remember one thing: The corridor leading to the east side cavern. That’s the way I start running. I keep running, remembering to maintain my heading. Along the way I find the crossbow, mirror and dagger I dropped when the, being I guess, caught me, along with broken potion bottles. I find one of those bottles unbroken: stamina potion. I immediately down it, and take off with the rest. I run and run and run until I come to a single, heavy security door.

      This is it! All I have to do is open it and I’m in the clear. I waste no time getting the locking lever undone and begin to turn the wheel that unseals the door when I start to get this shiver up my spine. It’s back. It’s catching up to me, and it’s ANGRY. I pull on my body’s reserves and put down a barrier just a few yards from me. I turn back to cranking the wheel when I hear a thud against the barrier. My movements become more frantic as I look back and realize to my horror that the barrier is starting to fade a lot faster than I thought it would. Fortunately that’s when the door decides to swing open and let me fall on my face. I quickly get on my feet and push my weight against the door. I risk taking a look as I struggle to shut the mass of metal gainst its frame and it’s just in time to see the barrier shatter and the being starting to leap, no, POUNCE at me. At the very same moment whatever resistance the door showed to my efforts vanishes and the damn thing finally closes shut, disengaging the security lever and activating the mechanism that rotates ans slides the locking lugs in the wall back in place. At the same time I hear the monster SLAM against the other side with a very satisfying sound. There’s a three quart imperial ton mass of enhanced metal between me and my pursuer and for all I know I just sealed that last entrance into the north section.

      I’m safe.

      For now.

      Out of breath, and coming down from my panic attack, I slide down the door to sit on the ground, my back supported by the wall behind me. The situation hits me at full force once again. I’m [censored]. We’re all [censored]. A massive nest of spider scorpion bug monsters below us, our main objective is dead and their location is haunted by the most horrifying monster I’ve seen since the cluster-[censored] at Witchen. Worst of all, I am without my most powerful equipment, and I still have to find a way to dispose of the bugs. [censored] my life.

      Despite that, I find enough resolve to stand back up and resume my trek to Mercer’s group. At least I’m in a presumably safe section, because for some reason the bugs haven’t infested this place. It must be the fissure, I ponder while making my way through the corridors. I arrive at another double set of doors. The doorway back to the main cavern. This one is more worn down, I think I can see traces of web and wax that must have seeped through the gaps. It may not be a dedicated security passage, buti t sure as all hells did its job well so far. I turn my gaze down the main corridor connecting directly to this entrance chamber. The fissure must be that way, I think as make my way down the tunnels. I know I’m getting closer to the fissure as I sense the density of mana in the air and rock around me increse as I go deeper. Soon I don’t even need to use mage sight to see the power flowing around me and into me, reinvigorating my body. My aches are gone, my mind is clear, it’s the greatest feeling one in my stead could experience. It’s like waking up well rested in a soft bed, wrapped in silk sheets and the sunliht not burning your eyes. After everything, it’s a welcome change.

      My thoughts start to turn towards planning a way out of here when I arrive at the main attraction. The very reason for this entire underground research complex to exist. The fissure. Except… It doesn’t look like one. I know you aren’t very well versed in these things Roger, so I’ll explain it to you. Fissures have a distinctive look and signature. In plain sight they look like wisps or pixies, only bigger, and because they spew forth a massive amount of mana they always have mana crystals growing around them. That’s why specific locations have a strategic importance to our order. Second, observed through mage sight or revealing glasses you can get a pretty accurate reading of the pattern, flow rate and tension of the mana pouring through. The most important is the pattern. Mana pulled from the environment will have a slight affinity for the applications related to that environment. If it’s fields, then farming is made easier even if it’s just floating around or enchantments related to growth of crops turn out slightly better. If it’s drawn from a forest then magics related to animals and nature are enhanced by the location. You ever heard of the phenomenon of the places of power? Certain mountain peaks and valleys, even unassuming looking places can hold the potential to be massively poweful natural foci for rituals. Just think of the stone circles you might find around the continent. How does this connect to the fissures? Simple: Mana flowing from fissures has a distinct, and above all else, simple pattern of behaviour: Like sand in a tank of water, it settles down and attracts toward itself. This is how natural mana crystals are formed.

      This particular fissure? It is NOT a fissure. There is mana, sure, but when I look at it I find no pattern, and only miniscule crystals are growing in the rock around it’s chamber. Even more suspicious is the sense of emptiness I get when I look straight into it. I find myself drawn to it, I want to touch it, to feel it. I want it to embrace me fully and let myself go, I want its whispers to fill my mind. But fortunately my trance is interrupted by a voice cutting in through the hand mirror.

      "Boss! Boss, talk to me! Are you there?" Mercer. He’s alive. At least I'm not alone in this [censored] situation

      "Yeah, I’m here! What’s your stuation over there?"

      "We’re holed up in the armory with some prisoners who have survived so far. We’ve managed to stock up on crystals and weapons as well. There’s enough to fight a bloody war in there. Problem is, those [censored] bugs are doing their damnedest to tunnel through and I’m getting worn out from putting up structural reinforcement so much. We need a plan to end this." Crystals. We could use those. I remember basic storage safety, namely what everyone should avoid when dealing with highly energetic and high mana density objects. The crystals in the main cavern didn’t break when the sinkhole opened up. They’re still down there. Surrounded by tons of silky, organic and FLAMMABLE webbing and wax.

      "I know how to take out that nest and everything in it, but I’m gonna need every crystal we can spare!" It’s time to show my expertise.

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AN: Whoo, almost there! I reckon this baby will clock in at about 20-21 pages.
Chapter 5 and an Epilogue are on their way.
Posted: 2017.11.28 GMT+1:00
If the universe is infinite, does that mean that there is a version of me out there who's thinking the exact same thing?

While we're on the topic of alternate universes, is there one where I'm a lawyer? If yes, then I may be more evil than I thought.

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NuclearBird
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Re: [FWC 17] - The Whitefield Report

#10 Post by NuclearBird »

Well, this is it.
Chapter 5 – Is it really pyromania if the action is appropriate to the situation?

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      Remember what they teach us at the start of our training? Mana crystals can hold a large amount of mana by themselves. This makes them a convenient and ready method of storing and channeling magic. Sure there are Keidran tribes that have learned to use certain pearls and stones to do the same, albeit at the price of lower storage density. Meanwhile, we’re lucky to have most of the major sources of crystals on the continent already developed. There is of course one caveat with the use of crystals: They’re unstable. Sure, it won’t explode from swinging on your necklace, bracelet or even belt, but a sufficiently large knock will disturb the entire thing, causing a very sudden, quick and violent release of all energy stored within. Why else would we need those padded and armored pouches to carry our highest quality crystals?

      Better yet, if a crystal is charged with an evocation spell, its breakdown releases that spell in an uncontrollable manner. Even worse? The shockwave of the expanding mana can set off nearby crystals, causing them to explode as well, adding their energy to the shockwave. If the initial crystal is charged with an evocation, the spell will carry on with the shockwave until there are no more charged crystals in the vicinity, or in case of high amounts of floating mana, not enough mana to maintain the reaction. In short: It’s like those dust explosions you hear about sometimes, the ones with the grain silos and deep mines.

      Fact number one: The formation of the sinkhole couldn’t have been strong enough to destroy the crystals, meaning those massive reservoirs of mana are still intact, under all that wax, web and debris.

      Fact number two: The armory is most likely stocked with enough crystals to vaporize a dragon, and the route between my location and there is as good as clear.

      Fact three: I’m really [censored] stoked at those bugs.

      Fact four: I am angry and I have nothing to lose.

      Fact five: I REALLY hate spiders.

      Knowing those five facts, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what my plan is. At least that’s what goes through my mind as I make my way through the East-South connecting tunnels. These passages must have been spared thespiderbug infestation. Better that way. I’m in no condition to fight my way through half their nest again. At least we have the armory, and if it’s like any armory I’ve seen, then it also must have enough first aid supplies to get me into fighting shape. I need it too, my plan is going to take everything my body can give. That means the soldiers we brought with us will have to join the festivities as well. No matter, we’re too deep in this already. Might as well finish it.

Close to my destination I finally start seeing evidence of spiderbugs. Webs, eggsacs and chewed edges on the walls. I’m close to the south end of the main cavern. I mark down the location in my mind, that’s the main point of entry I intend to use, as it seems to be closest to the sinkhole. Clearing the way however, that’s what Christoffson’s men are for. [censored]! I forgot about him!

      "Claire, talk to me! Is the commander with you?" Come on, you better be alive!

      "Charles, is that you? We thought you were dead! The squad you sent back told us you were cut off and being swarmed! What happened?" Oh Claire, that’s a story you don’t want to know.

      "That’s a long story, and we don't have the time. Get the commander on the line, I have a plan he needs to know about!" It doesn’t take long to see the old trooper’s face again.

"      Templar! What in the screaming, Void infested hells is happening down there?! My men are telling stories of abyssal monsters crawling from the deep and decimating them at nearly every encounter!" What's happening? The damned apocalypse that's what!

      "There’s no time to explain, all I can tell you right now is that I need your soldiers to evacuate from every spot that has the main cavern under it, because things are about to become unstable to say the least."

      "I won’t pretend to understand what you intend, but if you want to be away from support then that’s your choice." Cheeky old [censored], there’s no time for this.

      "Just do it, I’ll handle the rest! Claire, if you and your friends can hear me, follow the commander and get the hell out of here! This place isn’t going to hold at the current rate." I see her nod in the mirror. Good. That’s one less loose end. Now, to take care of Mercer.

      Just a few dozen more yards and I’m approaching the armory, weapons drawn and ready to slaughter anything between me and those crystals. I’m not disappointed when I arrive to a scene out of a nightmare. Dozens of bugs are piling up at the doors, chewing on the reinforced wood and attempting to tunnel through the wall. The noise is overpowering but I can make out a voice from beyond the mass of chitin. It’s Mercer, and he sounds agitated. No surprise. Dispatching the bugs is easily done. A single fireball impacts the entir pile of them, incinerating the closer ones and setting the rest on fire. That’s not something they tell you in training. They don’t tell you how easily fire can spread.

      The dying pile reveals a ruined doorway, and behind it a mass of combat hardened killing machines, escaped prisoners and one ambiguously angry mage. I could tell you what we said to each other, but I won’t bore you with the details. All you have to know is that I requisitioned the entire crystal supply in the armory, and all the first aid kits, specifically the fatigue potions. Fatigue potion is kind of a misnomer, really. They don’t really decrease fatigue and give you more stamina, they just suppress the feeling of aching muscles and fatigued mind. All they do is make you feel alright, up until they wears off and you collapse in a heap of convulsing muscles and disrupted heartbeats. But for the duration they have their effects they make you nearly unstoppable. I need those to keep my concentration as I prepare the little housewarming gift for the bugs. Remember the five fact I listed earlier? Well, two dozen crstals arranged in a carrier rigged to look and work like one of those fireworks that split and go off can have a really nasty effect even without the massive amount of material at the bottom of that hole.

      As for Mercer, I send him and his men to clear the way to the target while I’m tinkering. It doesn’t take that long for me to be done. I still need to charge this thing, detour to the not-fissure needed. No sweat. I can do it. Mercer’s boys don’t seem to think so, judging by the screams that are filtering through the mirror. I honestly want to say I turned around to help them, that I jeopardized the plan out of compassion but that’s not how fatigue potions work. All I can focus on is the massive wellspring of mana I’m heading towards. I just move through these corridors in what feels like an eternity. The world and its problems fade into the background, all I can see is the tunnel before me. All I can hear is the sound of my footsteps. The only feeling I have is the weight of the package I’m carrying. I’m in a drugged up, half conscious state, I’m barely there. Of course I snap back as I, yes, the fissure, wait, no, it’s not a fissure! It’s not. It doesn’t fit the mold. I think it’s a rift, but not any kind seen before. All I can say is that it has hypnotic qualities as I mentioned earlier. But if it is a rift, where does it lead? I don’t know, i don’t think I even want to know more about it other than it being a ready source of mana for an entire region.

      I don’t have any time to ponder the implication of the anomaly masqueradng as a fissure, I’m too busy with Operation Pest Control. Still, I can’t help but marvel at the sheer beauty of it, at how amazing it looks with mana streaming forth from it, directly into the package, filling the crystals with all its light. Despite the implications of its existence, it still is a rather beautiful thing to see.

      Before I know it, the entire gift basket is filled to bursting. You could practically feel the power stored in it, but that’s nothing compared to the sight of it. It’s not just glowing, not merely shining, no! It’s [censored] incandescent! Like a star that’s been stolen from the sky and forged into the world’s most powerful lantern. As it turns out, the spiderbugs agree with my assessmnt, as I bust through the east cavern door into the middle, blowing the return part of the plan out the window. I don’t care anymore, I just want to see this baby go off. I want to see these insects burn.

      "Mercer, we’re on the final stretch! Time to go! I’ll set this thing off!" Just go, man! Your part is done.

      "Boss, what the hell? Nobody’s being left behind! it’s my job to keep you alive!" Oh, right. I said that when I explained the plan, didn’t I? Huh, I didn’t menion it? My bad. You should know I’m a liar when it comes to these things. Anyway, Mercer’s protests don’t exactly draw a favorable reaction form the others, seeing as they move to grab him aand start to retreat. I make their job easier when I pop off a Magic Missile right into Mercer’s torso, knocking him out. I wonder, why is he so invested in me? We’ve only known each other for a few weeks at most. It doesn’t matter, I decide. They’re getting to a safe distance anyway.

      You know what’s strange? The spiderbugs. You’d think they were just some undiscovered cave dwelling species, but given that they showed up right next to a rift connecting to an unknown place, I’m inclined to believe they came from somewhere else. Doesnt make them very resistant to our power, though. They know it too, but don’t seem to care whn they realize what I’m carryng to the edge of the hole. It doesn’t matter, it’s already over. They won’t reach me in time.

      I pull the pin keeping the knocker mechanism from going off and pull on a cord connected to a clock mechanism scavenged from what must have belonged to somebody who worked here. the mechanism, of course is on a timer, enough for the whole thing to fall to the very bottom and land close to the fallen down crystals. There’s just one thing: I’m at ground zero, een with the timer I won’t make it to any exit. Had I gone the planned route I would be able to open the sealed off entrance in the prisonr cell blocks. But it’s not like that. It’s game over.

      I can feel the ticking of the clock mechanism counting down as I ready myself to finish this. I have no hangups about any of this. I always expected to experience a storm of emotions and anxiety should I ever go towards certain death. Everyone always talks about how they would go down fighting and how fierce they would be, going out in a frenzy. Right here, I should be feeling great. I should be feeling the effort of hoisting up the device, coiling up my muscles and letting it loose with all my strength. I should be feeling satisfaction at getting done with this. I should be feeling the heat of the bomb going off, the shockwave hitting me at full force. I should be feeling the force of the blast blowing off the top of the cavern, taking me with it high into the sky. I should be feeling it all. Know what I feel?

      Not a gods damned thing.

      But what I DO feel? The part where going up turns into going down, that reversal of speed, the feeling of your stomach being pushed up into your lungs. The feeling of impacting the ground from a height big enough to kill any man. And it hurts. Pain’s supposed to hurt.

      I’m lying there, on the ground. I think I’m dying. I can feel it, slipping away from life. My eyes are closing, I can’t keep them open much longer. Breathing’s getting harder. This is it. I’m done.

      It's over.

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      Next thing I remember is waing up here ad getting marched off into a cramped, inadequately lit room to be interrogated by you. Oh, I’m sorry, I meant to say ’questioned’. Look, I know what I told you sounds unbelievable and crazy, but I tried to recall everything I remember about the whole thing as best as I could. For all that it’s worth, my job here is done. This is the part where you release me.

      You won’t? I was afraid you woud say that.

      It’s because you don’t believe me. You believe me to be responsible for the whole catastrophe. You think I set off the explosion to dispose of any eveidence I might have left of whatever sinister plot I devised. You believe all that. At least you will pretend to. I know there’s nothing I can change about that. You may as well call your minions in and have them march me to the dungeons and save yourself any further trouble.

      Ah, there they are. Alright, gentlemen! Let’s go! Goodbye, cousin. See you around…

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AN: It's finished. Maybe I'll write the sequel after Christmas. Enjoy!
2017.11.30 19:00 GMT+1:00
If the universe is infinite, does that mean that there is a version of me out there who's thinking the exact same thing?

While we're on the topic of alternate universes, is there one where I'm a lawyer? If yes, then I may be more evil than I thought.

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