Dreams of a Dinosaur

During a small break, Taxchan takes a brief moment to rest his eyes. His body and mind give in, and soon he's asleep. When he awakes, he tries to catch his fleeing dreams...or are they memories?

Orks iz made fer fightin' and fer...winnin'?

Ogmundr’s gaze falls across the rubble-strewn fields filled with the beast-headed men of the army Zesiro calls “The Poisonous Ones,” as they armed themselves with the weapons of their fallen enemies. He had caught the first of these “Orks” by surprise, and the invasion was without setbacks, but even for their low intelligence, they had a form of cunning to them. One he would enjoy putting to the test in the battles to come. Seeing the last of the pyramid shaped drop-ships that he was not keeping for himself take off, he thought to himself of the Floating Nile. The country that had both nearly killed him and saved his life was now leaving the orbit of the planet, ready to start its own mission.

He was brought from this reverie by a loud sneeze. The Pure One, Ernst, had elected to stay, but apparently was allergic to nearly everything they’d encountered so far.

Shaking his head, Ogmundr returned his attention to his duties. His glowing red eye showed him the settlement that was nearly three miles from where he stood. Assessing the forces, he began shouting orders. He almost paused to contemplate how he had gotten here once again, but instead he let force a ferocious cry and led his men in a charge to meet the distant Orks.

Now was not the time for contemplation. Now was the time for war.

The Townhouse

The dog runs ahead, barking continuously, leading the way to a row of townhouses. Bee- lining to one in particular, it dives inside through a doggie door. T.L.D. and Her Highness try to keep up, all the while noticing the growing darkness and the movements within. Reaching the house, Zesiro struggles with the door. Taxchan covers her, slaying dozens of the feral creatures; first with his revolver, then with a Tommy gun. Giving up, Zesiro shifts into a jackal, and goes through the doggy door as well. Choth fires steadily for several minutes, his frame diminishing as he does, until he is small enough to squeeze through after them.

Attacked!

Huddled in the corner are perhaps a half a dozen men and women. The clothing they wear is tattered, unwashed and almost non existent on some. Their skin has paled to a sickly vein-filled white, and their movements, though slight, are feral, almost inhuman. Zesiro commands them to respond to her, but gains nothing for her efforts save a few, flurried movements. Taxchan keeps a steady bead on the creatures as Zesiro speaks with them, while the sun sinks lower on the horizon. Suddenly, the largest male of the group springs to attention! His muscles tense, he stands unmoving while staring past his gore-matted hair and beard with overly large, blood-filled eyes. Opening his fang-filled mouth, he issues a primal, furious scream! Choth implores the Queen to move away, and she turns haughtily, walking towards the exit. The others, stirred by the sound of the scream, begin to cautiously advance on the pair. As the Queen exits, the inhuman creatures hurl themselves forward, knocking over shelves and bursting through glass. The Last Dinosaur, P.I. opens fire with his revolver, dropping two of the creatures, and the Pharaoh’s sorcerous flash of light sends a third fleeing to the darkness. A fourth creature dashes forward from the pack, almost to Choth, before it realizes the sun is burning its skin, and it flings itself screaming under an abandoned car. From the many buildings and alleyways nearby erupts similar furious screaming and Zesiro and Taxchan turn to flee after the already running mutt.

The Store

Taxchan and Zesiro follow the dog through the streets of the abandoned city. No signs of life greater than rodents are apparent. The dog leads them to an abandoned storefront, but then growls at the pair as they approach the door. Taxchan steps back, and laying an egg in the street, collapses to the ground, lifeless, after his effort. Before Zesiro has time to show her concern, the egg begins to crack, and from it emerges the smell of cheap booze and cigarettes. A man then kicks his way out of the egg, smoking a cigarette as he dusts small pieces of shell from his trenchcoat. Zesiro moves to stand behind him as he draws a revolver, and they cautiously move forward. As they enter, the pair notices movement in a dark corner, behind a tall counter covered in items left behind by the looters that had obviously ransacked the store. Zesiro calls out, but it is to no avail. The duo moves cautiously to the counter, straining slightly as they lean forward just enough to see behind it.

Through the Painting

Taxchan Choth steps through the painting into a barren urban landscape. The dirty, brown mutt increases the volume and rapidity of its barking as it dashes to and fro. A scintillating array of prismatic colors bursts from the sky, from which emerges the Goddess of the Floating Nile, for once without her ever-present guards. The streets are abandoned; no signs of life save yourselves and the mutt. The air is heavy. It's cool, but not cold, breezy and moving quickly toward dusk. After a few moments, you notice a fine, red dust being exhaled as you breathe. This seems to affect the queen more than the giant iguanadon, causing an itching in her throat and an occasional cough. The dog dashes spasticly, barking in a loud, carrying pitch the entire time.

Behemoth and Leviathan

15 Behold now the behemoth that I have made with you; he eats grass like cattle.
16 Behold now his strength is in his loins and his power is in the navel of his belly.
17 His tail hardens like a cedar; the sinews of his testicles are knit together.
18 His limbs are as strong as copper, his bones as a load of iron.
19 His is the first of God's ways; [only] his Maker can draw His sword [against him].
20 For the mountains bear food for him, and all the beasts of the field play there.
21 Does he lie under the shadows, in the covert of the reeds and the swamp?
22 Do the shadows cover him as his shadow? Do the willows of the brook surround him?
23 Behold, he plunders the river, and [he] does not harden; he trusts that he will draw the Jordan into his mouth.
24 With His eyes He will take him; with snares He will puncture his nostrils.

So is this great and wide sea, wherein are things creeping innumerable, both small and great beasts. There go the ships; there is that leviathan, whom thou hast made to play therein."

The Pattern

"For a moment I regarded the Pattern -- a shining mass of curved lines that tricked the eye as it tried to trace them -- imbedded there, huge, in the floor's slick blackness. It had given me power over Shadow, it had restored most of my memory. It would also destroy me in an instant if I were to essay it improperly. What gratitude the prospect did arouse in me was therefore not untinged with fear. It was a splendid and cryptic old family heirloom which belonged right where it was, in the cellar." Corwin - The Sign of the Unicorn

The Logrus

"As we came to know the Sinister Path, we raised up a Great Working in the Serpent's name, and that Spirit did come amongest us once again and saw this thing that we had made. And the Serpent spoke, 'Great Tools still require great minds to guide them. Remember this, and call this Tool your Logrus, so it does not become your folly.'"

-from the House of Helgram, attributed to the Lost Book of Great Workings, as recorded in the New Mentat Order of the Church of the Serpent-

Reality Check

First there is wind, then great sheets of rain. Suddenly, a terrible maelstrom has arisen. An abrupt change to such a powerful storm laughs in defiance at natural law. Directly before you, in the center of the storm, reality itself begins to twist and writhe. With a great heave it buckles, and then tears. Barely comprehending, you stand transfixed as it begins to fray like a seam. Intricate glowing lines of power appear, only to fall apart, giving way to great, swirling eddies of chaos. Again, reality folds and buckles, and the churning chaos gives way as the tear both widens and deepens. There, past the fraying pattern of lights, beyond the unfettered chaos, is nothing. A great abyss that grows with the twisting and bending of the real, only to itself, buckle, and tear before it gives way. And as it gives way, you see…What Lies Beneath …and a piece of you dies. Something so small you cannot explain; a few molecules perhaps, a bit of your sanity, the tiniest piece of your soul, something so insubstantial that you can’t pin a name to it, but it is gone.

The storm fades even more abruptly than it appeared. The tear, the folding and twisting have all vanished as well, leaving no sign of the break. The only proof that anything happened at all is the evidence left by the storm...and the hole in your being.

Mutt

*Sigh*

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Aimery, Vicomte de Thouars

By the Pattern, before whom this relic is holy, I will be to Pope Siobhan II faithful and true, and love all that she loves, and shun all that she shuns, according to Pattern's law, and according to Amber's principles, and never, by will nor by force, by word nor by work, do ought of what is loathful to her; on condition that she keep me as I am willing to deserve, and all that fulfil that our agreement was, when I to her submitted and chose her will.

Golem

“I am the ever-alive, the always existing. Time no longer has definition. To be has no meaning. I have recreated the universe countless times, as it has recreated me. I have lived all of their lives, the peasants, the kings, the animals. I have been their God and their Devil, but I appear to be locked in endless purgatory of existence. I envy the fire, for it burns and then it is gone. I envy the rock, for it never lived. I cannot die, even though I wish to. I can never cease to be.”
“Now, I awake from the contemplation of my cursed fate, for someone is coming. I know they come, for I feel the change they bring. Has Death come for me at last, or is this change to be something I cannot fathom.”

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