M.I.S.T. Campaign: Session 16

I’ve charged into battle against elite soldiers, trolls, wendigo, giants, werewolves, and svartalfar without flinching.  I’ve faced down a dragon, defied a being on the cusp of divinity knowing that he would react in murderous frenzy, and thrown the gifts of a murderous god back into his face; all without an instant’s hesitation.

By all rights what I’ve done should have seen me slain at least twice over.  Not once has it given me pause.

Yet a few simple words, “before we can take any steps forward, if we can,” are simply terrifying.  They came from Ken’s lips, of course.

As I said before, she was not happy with my actions during those last frantic minutes in Thuringia; and she tracked me down along the seaside cliffs to speak to me about them.  But with how I was letting the incessant torments of Altair affect me I was hardly in a reasonable state of mind. Looking back, it was not surprising that nothing productive came of those talks.  They’d barely begun before she left out of frustration.

A call to my Mother granted a measure of perspective, made me realize that I was allowing what Altair had levied upon me to get to me more than it should.  And I was able to pull myself together, to a degree, after that.  Though I was hardly in a more talkative mood, and continued to spend the next three days in isolation amongst the seaside cliffs instead of at Manannan Mac Lir’s ranch.

Then Odin arrived, desiring to speak with us after the disaster at Thuringia.  Or more accurately, it seemed, to hear how we viewed those events.  We spoke with him on the porch, talking amongst ourselves whilst he and Manannan Mac Lir each tried to out-Gandalf the other with their pipes.  Much of the dialogue, at first, was between Claire and myself.  That some manner of conspiracy was behind things was agreed upon quickly, even if the exact details were not.

Then Ken demanded to know why I would discuss such matters with Claire but not her.  The resulting argument was, in a word, ugly.  Everyone else, even the gods, retreated into the house to grant the two of us a measure of privacy. Even so, I did not seem to be able to grasp the point she was trying to make and she was unable to express it more clearly.  In the end she stormed off again, and here I sit with those words ringing ominously in my head.

It was both my date with her and my discussion with my Mother that helped me find myself after Whittier.  The prospect of…

It’s astounding how quickly things can go downhill.

Gods damn it all.

M.I.S.T. Campaign: Session 15

Arrogant, blind, self-righteous, psychopathic…

All part of a long list of words I’d use to describe Vayu ever since our meeting, ever since I learned how he tore me from my family.  I’d always wondered if they applied to the rest of his accursed pantheon, but hoped they did not.  The tales of the Yazata portray Vayu as different from the rest of them.  I’d hoped there was truth to that, but suspected it was too much to hope for.  It was said long ago that you have to prepare for the worst.

And now this…Altair, has only proven my suspicions.  He was content to play judge, jury, and executioner; to condemn Cindy simply because she’d fallen victim to Utgard-Loki.  The revelation seemed to break her, make her give in to despair, give up on herself.

By the gnawed root of Yggdragsil, I told Andrew she needed to know.

She’d have surrendered herself to him, too, spare the rest of us from a foe we couldn’t hope to defeat.  But as difficult as she can be, I simply cannot let an ally deliver herself to her doom in such a manner.  So I stopped her.  A powerful warrior she may be, but her specialty is the axe.  She knew not the intricacies of hand to hand combat necessary to break away from me.  Though her struggles cost me precious seconds.

But preventing Cindy from resigning herself to her destruction was only one thing that had to be done.  Altair till presented an overwhelming threat to the rest of the band.  So I left.  Psychopaths can be terribly predictable at times. And as the winds bore me through the window to the city beyond, he all but tore half the Inn apart in pursuit.

Then I used the one, slight, advantage available to me.  His affinity was with the Eagle, mine the sky itself.  Whereas he head to ride the currents of the wind I called to them and they aided me.  Where he had a wingspan in excess of his height I had no such worry.  I knew it wouldn’t be much of an obstacle to one of his physical prowess.  But outgunned as I was there was little choice but to grasp at every scrap of advantage I could.  So I kept to tight confines, where his wingspan would be a hindrance.  I kept obstacles between us and cover overhead to force him to stay below the level of the buildings in pursuit.  I read the winds and chose the path that would give him the most difficulty I could manage.

He was still on me before I could escape the limits of the city.  I went straight up as the beginning of a last ditch attempt.  Forcing him to generate the lift needed to pursue out of raw power would buy a few precious seconds before I was forced to do something truly desperate.  But even if the Valkyries did not find my death worthy of Valhalla I would be destined for the Halls of my Mother.  Neither may be a trip I’m eager to make, but they’re ones that I can live with.  If I’d forsaken an ally, if I hadn’t stayed true to myself…I’d have never been able to live with that.

Death before the betrayal of my principles, knowing I’d done everything I could.  I was ready for it.

But Manannan Mac Lir heard his Daughter’s call, and himself arrived on the scene.  When Altair’s pursuit suddenly vanished I turned my gaze downward and saw two of him astride the horses he’s known for.  One with Claire, talking with Altair.  The other with Ken and Lexi, some distance away.  My choice of destination was clear; Cindy was getting no closer to the Yazata bastard than was necessary.

Then Manannan whisked us away from that accursed city.  He brought us to Dublin, to safety, however temporary.

But even though he brought me to safety, it has not brought peace.  Altair’s voice rang across the valley before we left; condemning me for my “crimes,” claiming their visions would haunt me in the nights to come.  Typical Yazata bullshit.  I committed no crimes by saving an ally from his clutches; no Dark Virtues lurk in my soul.

Yet he was not speaking just to hear the sound of his voice.  The whispers, visions, unease; they creep in during every idle moment.  They attempt to force his twisted views of the matter upon my very psyche.  It’s a relentless barrage that offers not a moment’s respite.  I know I did the right thing…yet, the visions do not relent, Ken’s disapproval was clear to see, the constant urban press of this city is suffocating.

I need to escape it, not abandon it entirely…but I saw cliffs overlooking the sea nearby.  I will seek the refuge of stone, wind, and water.  Perhaps the elements themselves can provide the balm I so desperately need.

By the gardens of Idunn, I hope so.

M.I.S.T. Campaign: Session 14

We were all still in the hotel when we heard a motorcycle take off from outside.  Andrew’s, I remember the sound of the engine.  Which, of course, meant we suddenly seemed to have urgent matters on our plate once again.  When Ken said as much she referred to me as “Love.”

It took a moment or two for that to register.  But once it did it was, I mean…I don’t know how I could possibly capture it in writing.  And during all that crap we went through with Krieger and Ken’s challenge, when I was afraid I might lose her, I’d realized that I felt the same way.  I know, I know, it probably seems way too early for me to be saying that.  I met her for the first time two-ish weeks ago, didn’t start getting to know much about her until about a week ago, hell we’ve only been on one proper date.

But you know how you hear about how going through dangerous life and death situations and such together can make people fall for each other faster?  Well, it’s true.  And I didn’t hesitate to tell her how I felt. It was a wonderful moment, even if it wasn’t as long as either of us probably would’ve liked.  Mainly because of Andrew’s sudden departure, of course, but also because everyone else was at the door by then.

Rufus stormed in as soon as I opened it and threw a hissy fit.  He didn’t really seem all that happy with me or her, and the two (literally) barked at each other for a while.  I may have learned Gaelic but I doubt I’ll ever understand…canine, wolven, whatever it’s called.

And then the girls all tensed and/or grabbed weapons.  In retrospect, I probably should’ve grabbed my vest instead of just getting Grimmur Klærnar ready.  It didn’t do me much god lying wherever it had landed on the floor after Rufus kicked my suitcase off the bed.  But by the time Lexi said it was a gunshot they’d heard it was too late.  Next thing I knew there was a soft clink to denote some sort of divinely-empowered flash bang hitting the ground.  It did its job disorienting Lexi and Ken, though Claire and Cindy managed to avert their eyes before it went off.  I didn’t, but it didn’t really affect me either.  That divine fortitude comes in handy.

I was able to anticipate how long they’d give the flash bang before they moved up the stairs, and got there right away when they did.  They still got their shots off first, though, must’ve been prepping to fire as soon as they rounded the corner.  And just before I attacked I noticed that the sons of bitches were all dressed in M.I.S.T. gear, which is why I yelled out friendly fire and only broke the closest guy’s gun instead of his neck.

…My thoughtfulness was rewarded by having all eleven of them who still had weapons hit me with a concentrated barrage.  That’s when I really could’ve used the vest.  A day earlier that probably could’ve killed me.  But ever since Ken killed Krieger I’ve seemed to be stronger, tougher, smarter…it’s like we had a level up, or something.  Long story short instead of bleeding out on the floor I just got some lurid bruising, a cracked rib or two, and a shallow wound.  Which, granted, isn’t enough to slow me down anymore.  But damn it hurt, and I probably wasn’t going to be able to handle a second barrage like that so well.

Thankfully I didn’t have to, I saw Cindy moving just in time to lift myself off the ground as her axe slammed into the floor.  Sent a shockwave out in all directions.  The rest of the girls were too far back for it to reach them, and I was aloft so it didn’t bother me; but half of our attackers got knocked to the ground and the other half were sent tumbling down the stairs.

I hope the bastards had some painful falls.

Then Lexi did…something to drain the outright aggression from the air.  It stopped the stopped the goons from trying to kill us, whatever it was, which was all I really cared about.  Their M.I.S.T. gear was genuine, and they claimed they’d been ordered to kill us.  Which was just wonderful.  I called Hel to see if I could figure out whether Brynhildur knew anything about this; my trust in her wasn’t exactly implicit.  And, well, I learned that my Mother really doesn’t like my adoptive sister before one of the soldiers mentioned that they were under orders from a Yazata and another group was being sent to assassinate Brynhildur.  Which, needless to say, answered my question.

It was also the point where I told Hel I’d have to go, now that that was settled it was time to focus on the people trying to kill us all.  Yazata, godsdamnit, like they haven’t been enough of a pain in my ass already.  And now they’re claiming we’re in league with Utgard-Loki just because he left some manner of taint on Cindy.  Bunch of blind, pretentious, self-righteous…

I should probably stop before I rant for a page or two.

Anyway, I was hoping to just start talking and make them listen.  I’ve been able to do that to people now, I’ve found.  Cindy and the rest could leave while I kept them occupied, then I could just fly off and let them stew.  I didn’t really want to butcher them wholesale and let the Yazata twist it into more BS accusations to throw at us.

Then a son of Atar showed up and declared his intent to see us “burned in the flames of purity.”

Oh how I am coming to despise the Yazata.