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Writeups for my game


TheDarkness

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Last night did two brief, simple scenarios for my new game, primarily to get in the swing of the combat system, but am already having a number of further ideas from them. Here's how it went. I'll try to add more each time we play.

 

Encounter 1

 

He hides in the dark. In the night of Travis City, in the dark of the Old City that lies beneath it, and even in the caves and caverns that mark the dried reservoirs beneath, once filled with water long since pumped out except in what those beneath call The Great Black Lake. His life is hidden, and while tiny whispers and rumors of him are to be found in the press, the details are missing, vanished.

 

In the Old City, outside of the main thoroughfares frequented by those who live in or find part of their livelihood beneath the city, he is wandering his way back to the place he sleeps when he hears the voices. First a man, pleading. The sound of a frightened girl. Cruel laughter.

 

He rounds the corner of an old street bounded by old buildings whose history he does not know. Ahead of him is a short, dark stretch of road, more buildings. Light from a fire flickers from around another corner. He moves closer.

 

When he reaches the corner, he sees them. Two men closest to him, both holding knives, their knives pointed at another man, one of the poor who find their unfortunate way down below. His was clearly the pleading voice.

 

Behind that man, a woman and a girl, perhaps eleven years old, frightened, her face round and dirty, her eyes shifting frenetically back and forth to each of the adults around her, then back to the man in front of her as he futilely pleads for her. Behind the girl, a tall, thick man with a baseball bat and a smile like a curse. All are lit from behind by a fire, foolishly built here, away from witnesses, a dream of a spot where the man, woman, and girl might sit, eat, find comfort in each others' company. Two cans of beans spilled over give testimony of the dream's seemingly instantaneous departure.

 

"We don't have anything to give you, please...," the man pleads.

 

The two men, their knives waving, are smiling, chuckling as they come closer. The large man with the bat grabs the young girl by the arm, and the father and mother look to her as she cries out.

 

He pulls the fabric up over his face, so that it covers the strange skin of his face. His goggles already obscure the glow of his eyes. He does not need to concentrate to part the space. He reaches through, and behind the large man, a hand reaches from nowhere, seizes the bat from him, and is gone.

 

The large man turns around, his back now to everyone. The other two survey the scene, and spot the interloper. They turn to face him and open their mouths as if to speak some threat.

 

He does not wait. The two form a line little more than twenty feet in front of him. He does not want conditions to change. He parts the space again, three times in rapid succession, each time passing through fully, striking the first man hard, then again, dropping the second, only to end back in his original position.

 

The large man, finally cutting through his dullard's haze sufficiently enough to spot the newcomer, charges him, swings with some power, but little finesse. The interloper is quick, light, out of the way just enough. Under fabric, his smile is mischievous and cocky. As the large man's fist glides past its mark and he overextends himself, the other tilts his head, his goggled eyes looking bug-like and tilted downward in seeming judgment of the man, points his index finger at the large man, and touches the thug on the chest.

 

It does not take the large man two full seconds to fall from the height he suddenly finds himself at. It takes him considerably longer to stand again. By then, the others have long since fled, and only he and his two cohorts remain behind, all three wincing at their injuries and cursing at the empty darkness.

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