Dark Redemption chapter 40: Bad Tidings

Beneath the gleaming skyscrapers and picturesque facade of the City of Redemption lies another city; a community of dark and ancient magic populated by creatures of the night. Dark Redemption is a shared-world novel based on an online role-playing game by James Crowther.

Strephon MacKenzie, a semi-immortal half-fae, has been commissioned by his aunt, the Queen of the Faerie, to investigate fae activity in the city. In the process, he has become involved with a mortal reporter named Cassandra True. Strephon and Cassandra quarreled when she accepted a job working for the sinister Simon Knox, publisher of the Morning Star, and now he is worried about her.

Strephon sat in his study, rereading the Morning Star. He read the newspaper every morning as part of his inflexible daily ritual but rarely returned to it. Tonight, he decided to make an exception. He poured meticulously over every paragraph; he scanned headlines looking for patterns. If Simon Knox truly was up to something sinister, it would probably involve his paper in some way. And Cassandra. He drove the thought from his head. No. It was conceivable that the newspaper might contain some clue as to Knox and Melchior had planned.

At least, so Strephon reasoned. After his third pass through the paper he could find no clues whatsoever, unless it was the absence of any coverage of supernatural occurrances.

Mrs. Hudson, his cat jumped onto the table and gave an aggrieved "Miao!"

Strephon scratched behind her ears soothingly. "All right, Devon, you can show yourself," he said loudly.

A gaunt, pale figure with dull, leaden eyes materialized before him.

"Ah. You aren't Devon," Strephon said.

"I bear a message from Morrigan," the apparition intoned.

"Morrigan? Belladonna Morrigan?" Strephon felt a twinge of dread. He hadn't heard that name in ages.

"If you have any regard for Cassandra True's well-being..."

"Cassandra? What about her?"

The apparition paused. Apparently he wasn't good at answering questions. "...You will come to Fellwood in half an hour. Come alone, or your lover will die."

"Now see here, Cassandra is not my... Wait! Don't go!"

It was too late. Having delivered his message, the apparition darted out of the room.

Strephon crumpled the newspaper in his hand. "Curse you, Morrigan! What are you doing?" He wheeled himself over to the telephone. Before he could pick it up, Devon appeared before him.

"Who was that I saw leaving this place? He looked like a minor fae. Is he a minion of Melchior's"?

"Go away, Devon. I haven't the time for it." He dialed the telephone.

"Something's the matter. Who was that?"

Strephon wheeled sharply to face him. "That was a messenger from a witch named Morrigan. She's an old acquaintance of mine who bears a certain grudge against me. Apparently she has captured Miss True and demands I come see her. Damnation, why doesn't she answer?"

"Calling Miss True? Maybe then this witch does have her." Strephon did not answer, but slammed down the reciever. Devon continued. "This could be a good thing, you know. You wanted her out of your life, didn't you?"

"I wanted her out of danger!"

"Well, it seems she's quite capable of getting into trouble even without your help, doesn't she."

Strephon glared at him. "Are you going to get out of my way, or are you just going to continue to make sardonic observations?"

"I'm going to help you, that's what I'm going to do."

"I do not need your help."

Devon laughed. "You certainly do! Besides, what would the Queen say if I let you get killed? Or your mother for that matter?"

"Bother my Mother, bother the Queen, bother Morrigan and all meddlesome females!" Just then the doorbell rang. Devon answered it and saw Tobias Simms standing at the door. "Gran told me Mister Strephon would be needing a ride about now. Is everything all right?"

"Ah," Devon said turning to Strephon. "A message from yet another of your female admirers."

Next Chapter:  Witch at Work

Dark Redemption chapter 39: Hospitality

Beneath the gleaming skyscrapers and picturesque facade of the City of Redemption lies another city; a community of dark and ancient magic populated by creatures of the night. Dark Redemption is a shared-world novel based on an online role-playing game by James Crowther.

Cassandra True, plucky girl reporter, has just started working for the Redemption Morning Star. Her first assignment is to cover the local arts society's Gilbert & Sullivan festival and so she is going to interview one of the society's members, Mrs. Belladonna Morrigan, who lives deep in a forested preserve inside the city.

Cassandra knew from the map that Fellwood only occupied a few city blocks, but somehow the forest seemed to stretch for miles and miles. Finally, she caught a glimpse of a lit window. She hurried along the path and came to a small cottage nestled between the trees. She rang the bell-pull by the door and Mrs. Morrigan answered it. "Welcome, child," the old woman cooed. "I've been expecting you. Come right in."

The inside of the cottage was a museum of antiques and oddities: an antediluvian grandfather clock, a hand sickle hanging on the wall, a stuffed baby crocodile on the shelf, a bust of a human head divided into phrenological zones, and other stranger items. "Do have a seat," Mrs. Morrigan said, "While I bring you some tea." Cassandra picked her way across the cluttered parlor to the musty horsehair couch.

"Thank you again for allowing me to visit," she said. "I hope I'm not inconveniencing you." Only a few dim lights and the flames of an old fireplace illuminated the room. After leaving the gloomy forest, the fireplace should have seemed warm and cheery; but somehow it's flickering light played weird and disturbing shadows among the clutter and curios packed on the parlor's shelves.

Cassandra realized with a start that there were two other people in the room; a young man and a woman wearing school uniforms stood near the far wall so silent and still that Cassandra barely noticed them. They might as well have been waxworks. Their eyes had a dull and leaden cast to their stare. They each wore a silver medallion of a leaf impaled by a thorn.

Mrs. Morrigan returned with a tea service. "I see you've met my niece and nephew. They're staying with me. This is... Winston, and... Sheila." The two raised their heads at the mention of their names. They weren't waxworks then after all.

Cassandra accepted a cup from Morrigan. "Thank you." She brought the cup to her lips, its aroma filling her nostrils."

She took a sip.

Something was wrong. The tea had a peculiar taste. She looked up at Mrs. Morrigan, who smiled a tight, expectant smile and fixed her gaze upon her. Without knowing why, a dreadful certainty seized Cassandra. The tea is drugged.

Cassandra tried to unobtrusively spit the tea in her mouth back into the cup while pretending to drink more. She hoped the old woman was fooled. "My, what an interesting flavor. I don't think I've tasted anything like it before," she said.

"A herbal blend of my own," Morrigan said. "I have a garden behind my cottage."

Cassandra set down the tea cup. The old crone leaned forward, with hungry anticipation gleaming in her eyes. Or was it the firelight? The silent pair also seemed a pace closer. Cassandra felt as if a trap were closing around her. But which was more dangerous, the weird old lady in the cottage, or the dark and deadly woods?

Cassandra made up her mind. She stood up. "Oh dear, I just realized! I have an important appointment. I really must be going."

"But you just arrived," the crone hissed.

"Yes. I'm awfully sorry. I'll come again some other time." Cassandra bolted for the door.

"Wisp!" Morrigan shouted, and the lad she had referred to as "Winston" dissolved like a mist and rematerialized in the doorway blocking Cassandra's escape.

Cassandra halted with a gasp and looked wildly around for another means of escape.

Morrigan turned to the girl. "Banshee!" The young woman's uniform transformed into a diaphanous gown and her eyes glowed with a fey green light as she advanced towards Cassandra. "Sing to her," Morrigan said. "A quiet song."

Cassandra scrambled over the coffee table and tried to open the window. Behind her, the Banshee opened her lips and emitted a weird, high pitched keening.

Cassandra flung her hands over her ears.  The room seemed to spin and she felt a spasm of nausea.  She crumpled to the floor and the room turned to darkness.

Next:  Bad Tidings

Dark Redemption chapter 38: Into the Woods

Beneath the gleaming skyscrapers and picturesque facade of the City of Redemption lies another city; a community of dark and ancient magic populated by creatures of the night. Dark Redemption is a shared-world novel based on an online role-playing game by James Crowther.

Cassandra True, plucky girl reporter, has just started working for the Redemption Morning Star. Her first assignment is to cover the local arts society's Gilbert & Sullivan festival and so she is going to interview one of the society's members, Mrs. Belladonna Morrigan.

The bus dropped Cassandra on the edge of Fellwood Forest, one of several wooded areas within Redemption's city limits. In any other municipality, it would be named a park, but tradition called these sections forests; not because of their size, but because of their sheer density. They had been set aside as preserves centuries ago and somehow had resisted all attempts by industrialist and real estate developer alike to cut them down. Cassandra never knew that anybody actually lived inside Fellwood, but this was the address Mrs. Morrigan gave her.

Cassandra found the mailbox easily enough and the path next to it leading into the heart of the forest. The sun was already dipping below the level of the trees and Cassandra began to fret. When she agreed to visit Mrs. Morrigan that evening, she didn't realize it would mean walking through the woods at night. She should call and reschedule the interview. No, she couldn't; she didn't know Mrs. Morrigan's phone number. She didn't know if the old woman even had a phone number. Besides, she was here and there wouldn't be another bus along for another twenty minutes.

An owl hooted nearby and Cassandra nearly jumped out of her raincoat. She thought of the wolf attack the week before. If wolves roamed the city streets, who knew what could be prowling in the deep dark woods.

She wished Strephon were here.

No, of course not. She was just nervous that's all. As soon as she reached Mrs. Morrigan's house everything would be copacetic. If only the woods weren't so dense, she could probably see the lights of the house by now. She tried to concentrate on reaching the house and not on the eerie feeling that she was being watched.

She looked over her shoulder. For an instant, she thought she saw a pale, wraith-like figure, by the trunk of a gnarled old oak. She shivered and continued on. Ever since encountering that ghost at the Cyba-Netsu Club she was seeing apparitions everywhere.

* * * * *

The Wisp glided unseen through the branches of the trees. He came up to the house at the center of the forest and slipped in through the window. Morrigan was there, chopping mandragora root in the kitchen.

The Wisp knelt on the linoleum behind her. She is on her way, he said.

"Good," Morrigan grunted. "See to it she reaches me safely. We wouldn't want anything to happen to her... yet."

I obey, the Wisp said, and darted from the cottage

NEXT:  Hospitality

Dark Redemption chapter 37: With Regards to the Culture Claque

Beneath the gleaming skyscrapers and picturesque facade of the City of Redemption lies another city; a community of dark and ancient magic populated by creatures of the night. Dark Redemption is a shared-world novel based on an online role-playing game by James Crowther.

Plucky girl reporter Cassandra True has landed a job at the Morning Star, Redemption's largest newspaper, and has been assigned to do a story on a local community arts group. Having encountered werewolves, ghosts and vampires, can she stand up to the horror of... Gilbert & Sullivan?

Back in the 1930s, the Alhambra Theater had been the premier movie house in the City of Redemption; a glittering movie palace to rival the most glamourous theaters of London or New York. Time and economics had worked their ruinous magic on the building and for decades the theater had been neglected and forgotten. Then, about a decade ago, the Redemption Culture Claque seized upon the theater as a piece of local history. They mounted a campaign to have it declared a National Monument and organized a fund-raising drive to restore it to its former glory. Now, instead of being a showplace for first-run movies, the Alhambra was a venue for art films, visiting theatrical troupes and, of course, the Annual Gilbert & Sullivan Extravaganza. Looking at the magnificent architecture, the imposing marble columns and vaulted ceiling, the lavish murals and intricate mosaics of the restored theater, Cassandra had to admit that the ladies of the Culture Claque truly had benefited the community in this instance. It reminded her of Strephon, for some reason; old-fashioned, but... nice.

She shook her head. What was she thinking of him for?

A janitor entering the lobby with a vacuum cleaner noticed her. "May I help you?" he asked.

"Oh. Yes. I'm looking for Mrs. L.G. Trotter. I was told I could find her here."

The janitor pointed to the large doors at the end of the lobby. "She should by the stage or thereabouts."

Cassandra thanked the janitor and headed into the theater. She saw Mrs. Trotter standing on the stage, directing a couple of workmen who were moving a piano. Another woman; perhaps a bit older than Mrs. Trotter, but with fewer chins; sat in orchestra pit, looking over a score.

"Hello, Mrs. Trotter?" Cassandra called out. "My name is Cassandra True; I'm a reporter for The Daily -- uh, The Morning Star. We met the other night at a party of Melchior Aesermann's."

Mrs. Trotter brightened and extended her hand. "Why of course! You were the young lady with that charming Mister MacKenzie! How pleasant to meet you again."

"Yes, I'm doing a story for the Star about the Gilbert and Sullivan Festival."

"Extravaganza," Mrs. Trotter corrected, "it's an Extravaganza! We're going to have a lecture by Sir Humphrey Smudge from Cambridge on the Victorian Theatre, a concert of some of Sir Arthur's serious music, a performance by our own local group of The Sorcerer and, of course, the ever popular Sing-It-Yourself Pinafore!"

"My! That does sound exciting," Cassandra said, wondering what a 'Sing-It-Yourself Pinafore' was.

"You don't know if Mister MacKenzie might have changed his mind about auditioning, do you? We could use someone to play John Wellington Wells, and I think he'd be splendid!"

Cassandra fidgeted. She really didn't want to talk about Strephon. "I really don't think he's interested. He can't dance, you know."

"Oh he wouldn't have to dance. And I'm sure just by talking to him that he has a simply splendid singing voice."

"I'm afraid I couldn't say. Please, tell me more about the Extravaganza."

Mrs. Trotter was more than happy to oblige, and Cassandra had difficulty keeping up with her stream of chatter. She also noticed that the other woman kept staring at her. At one point, Mrs. Trotter said, "...but if you want to know about the history of our event, you should talk to Mrs. Morrigan here. She's been with the Claque for years!"

The other woman climbed the steps up to the stage on wobbly legs, never taking her eyes off Cassandra for an instant. "Good day, Miss True," she said.

"This is Belladonna Morrigan. She'll be playing Lady Sangazure in our production of The Sorcerer. She specializes in our 'Katisha' roles, don't you know. Belladonna, Dear, tell Miss True a little bit about how this group was founded."

"I can do better than that," the old woman said. "I have a number of souvenirs from some of our early productions. Perhaps you would be interested in seeing them?"

"Yes, certainly," Cassandra said.

"Good. Then I insist that you come and visit me. I'd be delighted to have you."

"Well," Cassandra hesitated. "If it's not too much trouble."

The old woman smiled, adding even more wrinkles to her leathery face. "No trouble at all."

NEXT:  Into the Woods

Dark Redemption chapter 36: New Girl on the Features Desk

Beneath the gleaming skyscrapers and picturesque facade of the City of Redemption lies another city; a community of dark and ancient magic populated by creatures of the night. Dark Redemption is a shared-world novel based on an online role-playing game by James Crowther.

Plucky girl reporter Cassandra True has fended off werewolves, been entertained by vampires and just the night before encountered the ghost of a mass murderer. Now she is starting a new job at the largest newspaper in the city, the Redemption Morning Star.

"Um, excuse me. I'm Cassandra True. I was told to report to the Features Desk?"

A handsome brown-haired man at the coffee machine paused in filling his cup and turned a pair of startlingly blue eyes toward her. "Ah, Miss True. The new girl. A memo came down about you yesterday. Mr. Johnson's expecting you." He flashed Cassandra a smile.

"Oh! Uh, thank you. I hope I'm not late." She had overslept that morning and nearly missed the bus. While running for the bus, she had dropped a danish pastry leaving a blob of frosting on her sleeve, which she had tried removing in the Ladies' Room and so now she had a big wet stain on her blouse right when she so wanted to make a good impression on her first day at the Morning Star and God, he had dimples!

"I'm Saul Taylor. One of our merry crew here. I guess we'll be working together." The guy offered his hand.

Cassandra stared into his blue eyes for a moment before taking it. "Wonderful! I mean... it's nice to meet you!" she gushed. Any minute now she'd begin blithering. She knew it.

"Mr. Johnson's office is this way." He led through a maze of desks to a corner office. Inside a middle aged man with a pudgy face sat evaluating photographs. The man looked up grumpily.

"This is Miss True," Saul said. "Cassandra, this is Billy Johnson, Features Editor; your new boss."

Cassandra tentatively offered her hand. "Hello, sir."

Johnson snorted. "Mister Knox says you come highly recommended. I hope you can pull your weight."

"I'll do my best, sir!"

Johnson dug through his desk and handed a file to Cassandra. "Well, we might as well put you to work. Here; I want you to do a story on the Redemption Culture Claque. They're putting on their annual Gilbert and Sullivan Festival and Mister Knox likes to have us cover it. He's a big patron of the arts. Taylor, show Miss True to her desk and help her get settled in." He turned his attention back to the photographs.

Saul began ushering Cassandra out of the office, when she paused and added, "Uh, sir; I actually am working on a story right now you might be interested in." Johnson looked up, skeptically. "Uh, maybe. It's about ghosts."

"Ghosts."

"Well, yes. Ghost sightings. You know." She immediately regretted saying anything; but the only thing she could do now is keep on going.

"Do you believe in ghosts, Miss True?"

"Uh... of course not!" Cassandra fibbed. "But a lot of people are interested in them and there are a lot of ghost stories in Redemption."

Johnson's face suddenly broke into a warm and paternal smile. "That's very true," he said in a condescending tone. "But we like to focus our coverage to things that actually impact our readers' lives." Right, like the Redemption Culture Claque, Cassandra thought sourly. "But don't give up on your story," Johnson continued in a soothing, syrupy voice. "Maybe we can run something like that next Walpurgus Night."

Then as quickly as it had gone, his grumpy demeanor returned. "Taylor, get back to work."

NEXT:  With Regards From the Culture Claque