Darinas
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CHAPTER 1
SESSION 1
Downtown
Waveton had always been such a fascinating city in Dennis Machiel's eyes. It just always seemed like it was tearing itself in two, as if two completely different facets of the town were trying to co-exist while struggling for control. Urban and rural; ancient and modern; in a way, that feeling actually matched the current situation of its supernatural population.
"You're alright, Sir?" the driver suddenly asked. "You've been looking through that window for a while, now..."
The Inguma sighed. "I am fine, James, thank you. I was just... lost in my thought."
It had been around two month now since the Truce had been established. For almost twenty years, this town had been the theater for a secret war between two powerful supernatural kinds: the Begotten, living nightmares from the Primordial Dream, and the Hopeful, recently-arrived hope bringers. Machiel still remembered how it began; back then, the Begotten had been the true masters of Waveton for several years, freely feeding and controlling humans behind their backs. Then, without any warning, these strange people who seemed to come straight out of a Magical Girl series had shown up and started taking entire districts away from them. The following struggle for control had torn the city apart. Back then, it seemed like this could have only been stopped by one side anihilating the other. And yet, here we were, with a Truce signed.
Only question was, how long would this last?
Machiel had no idea, but he was determined to make it last. While there was no denial that Nobles had infilcted damages to the Children, that was nothing compared to what their struggle had done to the city- and neither of them wanted this. Nobles were well-implanted by now, and driving them out no longer felt possible. Peace now seemed like the best option.
The car finally arrived in front of the company, and Machiel got out. After briefly saluting the vigils at the entrance, he went to his office. As he was passing in front of Cecilia, his secretary, greeting him, he immediately noticed something was... off about her eyes. He had no difficulty figuring out the cause, and as a result, he wasn't remotely surprised to find someone in his office.
"Hello, Dennis," Isabella greeted him as he opened the door. The Dark Mother's high priestess was laying on his desk. Compared to her usual garbs, she was dressed in a surprisingly conventional way: no fancy cultist robes, no amulets, not even her usual mask; just grey trousers and a small top that left her pale-skinned navel and arms bared. Admittedly, this made her look more youthful and attractive than usual, but Machiel already knew she was at the very least in her sixties, probably more; being a powerful Beast could do wonders with your aging process.
"Good morning, Isabella," Machiel sighed again while taking off his coat. "Before we begin, please tell me what you haven't been too harsh with poor Cecilia. You know I hate when you use Nightmares to make her let you in, don't you?"
"She will be fine, I assure. I merely commanded her. She should recover in a few minutes."
"Good. Now, what do you want to ask me so hard you would come without an appointment? Hopefully you aren't here to provide more complains about the Truce's terms?"
Isabella scowled. "Trust me, if I had to explain to you all the reasons I dislike this truce, we'd still be here by tomorrow. But no, that's not why I am here."
Machiel shook his head. Ever since the Truce had been signed, Isabella had made no secret of how unhappy she was about it. As part of the terms, the Nobles had placed restrictions on multiple rites practiced by Begotten Cults, which she had perceived as offensive.
"I am here," she continued, "because you asked me to investigate further on what is disturbing the Primordial Dream lastly. And that is what I have been doing these last week. I think I might have found a lead."
"Oh, really, now?"
"Ever heard of the Trash Tigers?"
The Inguma frowned. "A gang of prominence in the Slums, I think. Mostly human, not controlled by either us or the Nobles as far as I know. What about them?"
"Well, it seems there might be more to them than meet the eyes. I've been triangulating the various points in the town where Darkspawns seem to be increasing in numbers and where the Primordial Dream seems the most fragilized. Guess on whom territory these conditions seems to meet the most?"
As she was talking, she dropped a map on his desk. Machiel sat, and starting reading it.
"This is... most interesting. So you think they are involved in this?"
"Very likely, yes. But it looks like investigating their territory won't be an easy task. They have a reputation of being agressive, and they are the second strongest gang in the area. You might want to call the Nobles as support for this one. At least they will have some use for once."
"... Thank you for this information, Isabella."
The high priestess saluted him before leaving the room. Once she was gone, Machiel thought for a moment. He agreed with her, albeit not for the same reasons. The Trash Tigers had been active for a while now, and their activities had almost certainly contributed to spreading the Darkness' Taint. He was ready to bet the Hopeful would want them dismantled; this made the situation a golden opportunity to have Nobles and Beasts not only work together toward a common goal, but maybe also reinforce the chances of a durable peace.
He would have loved to lead this by himself, but his position here kept him busy. Besides, he felt it was best to involve young Beasts and Nobles for this task; after all, they would be the next generation. That was when he remembered someone; a young promising Begotten his cultists had been keeping tablet on. Maybe that was the opportunity to put him through the test.
Pressing his interphone, Machiel called his secretary.
"Cecilia? I would like you to send a message to someone for me, please. His name his Ernest Slender."
SESSION 1
Downtown
Waveton had always been such a fascinating city in Dennis Machiel's eyes. It just always seemed like it was tearing itself in two, as if two completely different facets of the town were trying to co-exist while struggling for control. Urban and rural; ancient and modern; in a way, that feeling actually matched the current situation of its supernatural population.
"You're alright, Sir?" the driver suddenly asked. "You've been looking through that window for a while, now..."
The Inguma sighed. "I am fine, James, thank you. I was just... lost in my thought."
It had been around two month now since the Truce had been established. For almost twenty years, this town had been the theater for a secret war between two powerful supernatural kinds: the Begotten, living nightmares from the Primordial Dream, and the Hopeful, recently-arrived hope bringers. Machiel still remembered how it began; back then, the Begotten had been the true masters of Waveton for several years, freely feeding and controlling humans behind their backs. Then, without any warning, these strange people who seemed to come straight out of a Magical Girl series had shown up and started taking entire districts away from them. The following struggle for control had torn the city apart. Back then, it seemed like this could have only been stopped by one side anihilating the other. And yet, here we were, with a Truce signed.
Only question was, how long would this last?
Machiel had no idea, but he was determined to make it last. While there was no denial that Nobles had infilcted damages to the Children, that was nothing compared to what their struggle had done to the city- and neither of them wanted this. Nobles were well-implanted by now, and driving them out no longer felt possible. Peace now seemed like the best option.
The car finally arrived in front of the company, and Machiel got out. After briefly saluting the vigils at the entrance, he went to his office. As he was passing in front of Cecilia, his secretary, greeting him, he immediately noticed something was... off about her eyes. He had no difficulty figuring out the cause, and as a result, he wasn't remotely surprised to find someone in his office.
"Hello, Dennis," Isabella greeted him as he opened the door. The Dark Mother's high priestess was laying on his desk. Compared to her usual garbs, she was dressed in a surprisingly conventional way: no fancy cultist robes, no amulets, not even her usual mask; just grey trousers and a small top that left her pale-skinned navel and arms bared. Admittedly, this made her look more youthful and attractive than usual, but Machiel already knew she was at the very least in her sixties, probably more; being a powerful Beast could do wonders with your aging process.
"Good morning, Isabella," Machiel sighed again while taking off his coat. "Before we begin, please tell me what you haven't been too harsh with poor Cecilia. You know I hate when you use Nightmares to make her let you in, don't you?"
"She will be fine, I assure. I merely commanded her. She should recover in a few minutes."
"Good. Now, what do you want to ask me so hard you would come without an appointment? Hopefully you aren't here to provide more complains about the Truce's terms?"
Isabella scowled. "Trust me, if I had to explain to you all the reasons I dislike this truce, we'd still be here by tomorrow. But no, that's not why I am here."
Machiel shook his head. Ever since the Truce had been signed, Isabella had made no secret of how unhappy she was about it. As part of the terms, the Nobles had placed restrictions on multiple rites practiced by Begotten Cults, which she had perceived as offensive.
"I am here," she continued, "because you asked me to investigate further on what is disturbing the Primordial Dream lastly. And that is what I have been doing these last week. I think I might have found a lead."
"Oh, really, now?"
"Ever heard of the Trash Tigers?"
The Inguma frowned. "A gang of prominence in the Slums, I think. Mostly human, not controlled by either us or the Nobles as far as I know. What about them?"
"Well, it seems there might be more to them than meet the eyes. I've been triangulating the various points in the town where Darkspawns seem to be increasing in numbers and where the Primordial Dream seems the most fragilized. Guess on whom territory these conditions seems to meet the most?"
As she was talking, she dropped a map on his desk. Machiel sat, and starting reading it.
"This is... most interesting. So you think they are involved in this?"
"Very likely, yes. But it looks like investigating their territory won't be an easy task. They have a reputation of being agressive, and they are the second strongest gang in the area. You might want to call the Nobles as support for this one. At least they will have some use for once."
"... Thank you for this information, Isabella."
The high priestess saluted him before leaving the room. Once she was gone, Machiel thought for a moment. He agreed with her, albeit not for the same reasons. The Trash Tigers had been active for a while now, and their activities had almost certainly contributed to spreading the Darkness' Taint. He was ready to bet the Hopeful would want them dismantled; this made the situation a golden opportunity to have Nobles and Beasts not only work together toward a common goal, but maybe also reinforce the chances of a durable peace.
He would have loved to lead this by himself, but his position here kept him busy. Besides, he felt it was best to involve young Beasts and Nobles for this task; after all, they would be the next generation. That was when he remembered someone; a young promising Begotten his cultists had been keeping tablet on. Maybe that was the opportunity to put him through the test.
Pressing his interphone, Machiel called his secretary.
"Cecilia? I would like you to send a message to someone for me, please. His name his Ernest Slender."
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