The world beyond Darkness

Dark little village by the sea

DK Graypartridge

Something evil runs deep in this village.

Our arrival was late, the trip on the whole, uneventful. However. The Black Shuck didn’t wait long to make an appearance… more appropriately I believe I should say A Black Shuck… We weren’t halfway through our most welcome hot dinner than a horrible howling commenced outside and Adrianna jumped up and ran to the door. A large, snarling black dog was outside the door and he appeared to want in very badly. It took far too many bullets to put it down. I captured its image in glass, its aura not of the natural kind, but there was nothing else to indicate just what it might be.

In the morning conversations and questions lead us to the church and its new parson and alter boy. Never a more odd pair have I seen. The boy’s reputation is reprehensible, yet he put on a truly wounded and woe-is-me aire. The pastor isn’t even ordained yet and a more radical revelations-end-of-world believer I have never met. I cannot help but believe that these two are directly involved or responsible. The Black Shuck showed up around the time of the new parson, who just happened to be preaching devil hounds and brimstone fire.

But. We still have no real lead as to who, what or why. Retiring to the inn we rest now until dark. We must needs find these evil black dogs and who controls them.

The others rest, but I feel impotent. I have nothing but my camera. No tools, no gadgets, not even a place where I might fabricate something… even if I knew what sort of gadget would be helpful. I have spent time in meditation and opened myself to the spirits of the area. There are hundreds. They all clamor for attention, but not one of them can agree on where the root of the problem lies. Even Pop Pop shrugs his shoulders and can’t pick out a thread from the cacophony.

What I need is something to to divine the trail. No. What I need is something to focus my energies… a hat… no… a lantern… something that will change color when the aires and vapours change… Ah but for a workshop.

But never mind. I should rest now, like my new friends. My new friends who seem refreshingly free of tagalongs. Perhaps those who are drawn to this business don’t collect tagalongs… too pragmatic perhaps?

Quiet mind. Quiet. Sleep is what is needed.


MasterGameMaster MasterGameMaster

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