Campaign of the Month: May 2013

The Dark Queen of the West

December 19th 2010 - Downtown


Persons of Interest: Red Feather

The sun breaks through the darkness, dimmed as though through a veil of frost. Staring through eyes still half closed and fogged with sleep, Red Feather begins to make out twinkling lights dancing in front of the sun, as the sun fades into and out of existence. It seems to be that shadows are swallowing the earth’s source of life with frightening regularity. With a sharp exhalation of shock, the scene clouds over, and Red Feather finds himself back on a cramped and uncomfortable bus, the same bus he’s been on for the past three days. The same bus he was destined to be on the moment he learned his mentor’s kidnappers had headed to Chicago three weeks ago.

Three hours later, the bus pulls into the Greyhound station and Red Feather disembarks along with the seven other passengers he had been sharing the rolling prison with. Seconds later and his duffle bag is secured and slung over his shoulder and made slighly heavier by virtue of the addition of a small redtailed hawk perching on top of one of the straps.

As Red Feather steps along the downtown Chicago streets, he begins to hear a strange siren’s melody blaring out from a nearby bar. Skydancer shifts curiously atop the duffle bag. Walking to the doorway of the bar, Red Feather notes that inside there are only four patrons frequenting the bar at 9 AM, although it does seem a warm respite from the cold Chicago morning. The bartender is a heavy-set fellow who looks like he might have been an underappreciated football defender in high school. There’s an elderly man with more wrinkles than hair sitting in the middle of the bar, nursing a brew of some type, and a young rough looking couple playing a round of pool.

Red Feather looks around hesitantly as he steps across the threshold of the bar. Having never been off of the reservation except into the small, nearby towns, this new city he found himself in now was overwhelming to say the least. Keeping his composure he walks inside and seats himself at the bar.

“Hey!” snaps the bartender as he un-slung his duffle bag to the floor and the small hawk flutters to his shoulder, “No animals in here!”

Red Feather blinks in surprise and curiosity at the man, but then looks down to the hawk who bobs her head once before flying out the door to perch of the roof of the house across the street.

“What the hell…” the bartender mumbles, giving Red Feather a very suspicious look.

“Could I have a cup of tea, please?” Red Feather asks politely, “Chamomile, if you have it?”

The bartender frowns still deeper, then rummages around deep into the depths of the bar and emerges with a very dusty box of tea.

“Mint work?” he asks gruffly.

“Yes, it will.” Red Feather responds.

The bartender moves off to brew his tea and returns a few minutes later with a beer mug filled with hot, weak tea.

Red Feather suppresses a grimace and takes a sip, thankful for the warmth finally seeping back into him.

As the steam from the tea curls up in languid and wispy patterns, there is a slight ripple in the air. Glancing to his right, Red Feather notes the one of the pool players sidle up to the bar, reeking of cheap whiskey even at this early hour. The young man shoots Red Feather a scalding look, sneering through his drunken haze.

“It’s not even football season. Why are all these freaks from Washington coming in to town, George?”

The bartender spares an unapologetic glance at Red Feather, then offers a grunt and a shrug at the man by way of explanation.

The man leans in, breath barely masked by the mint aroma battling to rise from the hot water on the bar. “What’s your deal, man? Coming into my town, uninvited, huh?”

The tough’s girl seems to be looking on, bored, while the elderly man at the bar continues nursing his drink.

Red Feather slowly lowers his mug to the surface of the bar.

“I never cease to be amazed at the arrogance of those who live in these cities…” he says quietly half to himself, then, addressing the young man directly. “This city is neither yours nor any one persons. This city, and the land on which it sits belongs to the earth and all of her creatures, of which you are one, but cannot make any greater a claim then this ant.” Red Feather gestures to a tiny worker ant slowly climbing across the surface of the bar which the bartender reaches out and quickly squishes upon noticing it.

“Who the hell do you think you are??” yells the young man.

Red Feather ignores him and turns to the bartender. “Please do not do that. You may not hear it, but all creatures have thoughts and feelings, that ant did not enjoy being killed by you, and you had no right to take its life.”

“Just who the fuck do you think you are?” The young man repeats again, taking an angry step towards Red Feather.

Red Feather slowly rises to his feet and bends to pick up his duffle bag from the floor. He straightens up and stands at his full height, framed in the gathering dawn light outside coming in through the open doorway.

“My name is Red Feather” he says, his voice a quiet rumble, and at that moment the hawk which had flown outside comes sweeping back in through the doorway with a screech to land on his shoulder. “And I am not someone to be trifled with.”

Red Feather picks up his tea, drains it, then walks slowly out of the doorway without another look.

Minutes later, Red Feather finds his feet have taken him closer to Chicago’s Golden Mile, stopping just before an intersection. From over his shoulder, he hears a slight intake of breath, as though someone were to begin speaking. He turns and sees a deserted street, only to have a voice come to him from behind. “Not too many people would be brave enough to stand their ground like that. Too many are willing to keep their eyes closed. You, though, it would seem, are one whom has his eyes firmly opened.”

Red Feather feels something in his ear that vaguely reminds him of his old mentor, and wheels about to see a man standing where there previously was none. He wears an easy smile, and his sport coat seems to do little to cut out the cold, yet he seems to radiate an inner warmth, creeping through his clothing and out of his eyes. “Welcome to the City, noble one. You have made some rather intelligent observations about the nature of this place in such little time. Though you did err in one regard. Chicago does belong to my employer.” He looks thoughtful. “I am sure Mr. Whittemore would enjoy meeting you at some point.”

His smile broadens as Red Feather seems to open his mouth, cutting in just before he would speak. “Of course, you came here seeking, did you not? Answers, persons, they can all be located in this town. They might not always be to your liking, but they are always available. I’ve heard that some even go to the Golden Mile for answers to certain questions.” He shrugs and points off in a direction.

When Red Feather turns back to the stranger, he finds him vanished into the wind, the only evidence of his passing a brand new smartphone sitting on the sidewalk.

Red Feather stoops and picks up the phone and holds it awkwardly, having never used one before. He had seen children off of the reservation with them, but no one where he had lived had bothered with anything beyond the simplest of mobile devices, and he had never used one. Hesitantly, he pokes at the screen. The screen remaining stubbornly black and blank, Red Feather pockets the phone and heads off in the direction the man had pointed at. As the buildings around him grow taller, Red Feather looks about himself with mild awe at the idiocy these people had. Why wasn’t living on the ground good enough for them? All of the lavishness seemed so utterly pointless.

It being now quite fully light out, and feeling himself growing ever more hungry, having not put anything into his belly since the night before other than weak mint tea, Red Feather begins to look for somewhere to find some food.

Before Red Feather was born, his Grandfather had discovered small amounts of silver and copper on their acres of property, and the mining continued to earn him a livable if a bit small amount of money every year.

Finally, after passing several McDonalds and a Burger King, he finds a small coffee shop which was just opening and walks inside. After his last experience, he asks Sky Dancer to wait outside, which she did, perching atop a nearby street light and drawing curious looks from passersbys while she preened her wings.

Red Feather orders a sandwich from the limited menu as well as another cup of chamomile, which he is delighted to find out that they do carry, and which he suspects would be much better than at the last place he had tried. After receiving his food and beverage he makes his way to a table in the corner, and, after propping his staff carefully against the wall, seats himself looking out of the window.

A young woman comes in a few minutes later as he is half-way through with his meal, and, after ordering her coffee, seats herself a table away from him to wait. She pulls out her phone and begins tapping against the screen quickly.

“Pardon me,” Red Feather began, looking up at the woman.

“Uhh, what?” She responds suspiciously, giving him a wary but almost amused glance, “Can I help you?”

“Possibly,” Red Feather replies, drawing the smartphone from one of his jean pockets and placing it on the table between the two of them, “I found this, and do not know how to use it. I would like to return it to its owner, if possible.” He gives her a warm smile. “I saw you using something similar to this and thought you might be able to help me.”

“Oh,” replies the woman, relaxing visibly, “But, what, you don’t know how to use a phone?”

Red Feather smiles again, “I have never needed to before. I am, one could say, quite new around here, as I believe the saying goes.”

“Well, its pretty easy,” the woman says, picking up the phone and moving over to sit at the table next to his and leaning in towards him. “See you press this button here, then slide this thing, then you can get into these things, called apps. This is the one you use to call people with, this one you can send messages from, like text I mean, this one gets you to the internet, like that. So I’d go into the phone one and call the persons mom or something… that’s always easy, you’d just tap on their name to call them. Its easy.” The woman hands the phone back to him, “Oh, and that’s my coffee, gotta go, good luck!”

She grabs her coffee then hurries out of the coffee shop.

The moment the woman is out of sight, the phone chirps to life, emitting a soft glow from the table. A quick glance reveals the map application seems to have spontaneously activated itself. The location beacon seems to be relatively nearby, showing the address of an internet cafe a few streets over.

Red Feather studies the now glowing screen with a frown. He doesn’t trust these technology things, they seem too easy to manipulate, and too artificial. Never the less, he stands, gathers up his things, and after busing his own dishes walks out of the door. After several minutes of looking at the map in confusion, he sends Skydancer to scout ahead. A few minutes go by and she returns, flying in a circle above his head before flying off again, then perching on a lamp post to wait for him to follow. Red Feather follows her slowly to the door of a small coffee shop. He looks about himself, wary of a trap, then heads inside.

Inside the small cafe, Red Feather is surrounded by a whirl of technology. The harsh glow of various flatscreen monitors drowns out the illumination provided by the sun coming through the doorway. There are a few people in suits sitting in front of these screens, plugging away at documents. A few servers circulate bills and beverages throughout the establishment. Over in the corner of the room, a lanky looking man is pounding away at his laptop angrily, as though it had done something to him in a past life. Something about the way he’s seated raises the hairs on the back of Red Feather’s neck. He is seated with his legs draped over one arm of a lounge chair, his laptop immobile a good inch above the fabric of his jeans.

A nondescript server comes over to Red Feather and begins babbling about pricing schemes before offering Red Feather a sample of the latest in techno-tea, which is supposed to ‘increase reaction time by tens of milliseconds in the micro-bit range of control.’ As the tea is offered, a group of teens send up a series of shouts across the shop, congratulating one of their number while the others scowl away at their computers.

“I’m sorry,” Red Feather begins, “I don’t believe I understand. What does this tea do? Do you have any chamomile?”

The server blinks. “It’s kind of like a Red Bull, man. You know, Red Bull? Wings? I’ll go see if we have any of that shamwow stuff in the back.” He saunters off, iPod blaring unintelligible gibberish.

From across the room, Red Feather feels the angry man with the laptop eyeing him. He sees the man moving his lips, and seconds later, the sound reaches his ears, as soft as a whisper. “You’re not from around these parts, are you, old timer?” The sound of his voice, though dim, seems to betray an inner spirit that is raging at itself and the world around it.

Red Feather returns the young man’s look with a smile, which, though warm, is guarded against the unknown this man represents.

He moves towards the man in the corner, seating himself on a chair nearby.

“My mentor told me of those who could do that.” He says, gesturing at the floating laptop, “and what you did with your voice, quite marvelous.” He smiles again, “I can do strange things as well, but they are quite… different.” He gestures about himself, “Though I am indeed, new to these cities, and we do not have such where I come from, this ‘coffee shop’ as you call them seems different than the others I have seen, am I right?”

{Second Sight – Red Feather: + : Cybercafe. Pool of 9}

Red Feather takes a look around the cafe as his tea arrives and is paid for by his new friend. A few of the young kids in the group by the back wall seem to be Sleeping, despite being hopped up on caffeine. The aura from the young angry man seems to be the strongest, one of the strongest yet encountered, but not as potent as Red Feather’s mentor. His aura rolls off of him in waves, colored red and not terribly grounded.

The man waves his hand and the laptop falls onto his denim. “Probably unnecessarily flashy, but useful for preventing burns.” He looks around. “This? Yeah, cybercafes like this only really have taken root in the cities… they’re handy for doing research. It’s hard to track people here, I guess. That’s why I like them. You can call me Ghengis, if you’d like. You don’t seem like you’re… with anyone.” He seems somewhat guarded. “Right? You’re not a Seer, are you?”

He looks Red Feather over. “You don’t seem like one. I doubt we’d be meeting so peacefully if you were. Lucky me, meeting so many who are Awake these days. Three in as many weeks… that’s rare, especially ones that haven’t already sided or been recruited.”

Red Feather considers the young man over the rim of his tea cup which he sniffs suspiciously at. He suspects it is not normal tea, and isn’t sure he wants to find out what exactly it will do directly.

“I find myself in a rather odd situation,” he tells his young companion, “despite being one of what you would call ‘The Awakened’ for most of the years of my life, I am as yet but a novice and new to your ways and sayings. For example, I do not know of these Seers you spoke of, but as I have not, I will presume I am not among them. I had a mentor, where I grew up, but he was taken away many years ago. It is because of him that I have come here, I only now recently obtained information that he was taken here, and I have come to, in whatever way I may, try to help him. I owe him a great debt.”

Red Feather blows steam from the top of his tea, “perhaps you could answer some of my questions? I have many, and know of no where else to find them.”

He stretches his hand across the table, “My name is Red Feather, Osiyo, as my people say. It is a pleasure to meet you Ghengis.”

Ghengis sets his laptop to the side, lid still open, showing a webpage on ancient Sumerian history. His hand darts out to Red Feather’s, gripping it tightly. His face assumes a serious aspect. “Red Feather, a pleasure. I’m glad to answer your questions, but I caution you thus – share your True Name with no other. True Names hold power over the Spirit – knowing yours, I could put you in jeopardy, were I so inclined.” Releasing the hand, he slumps back in his chair, taking a drink from a slim silver and blue can. “Fortunately for you, I’m a pretty decent guy, for the namesake and all.”

He sits back, absorbing all that Red Feather has to ask, before politely interjecting.

“You want the whole deal? Well, I suppose that’s possible. You might not hear what you like – but that’s the unfortunate truth we’re dealing with here. We know nothing, and what we learn can be… unpleasant. The biggest challenge we face is figuring out which questions to ask. I make no claims to knowing everything, but maybe I can help.”

He pauses for a breath, during which point in time he taps a few keys on his laptop and mimes plugging a cord into it’s audio port before straightening an invisible wire and inserting it’s ends into his ears.

Red Feather notes that the sounds around him dim suddenly, as though he had pressed his ears to the ground – he can hear his heart beating strongly, and when Ghengis speaks, his words reach Red Feather with the utmost clarity.

“There is the world we know, we knew, and there is a world surrounding us. This first world, the Fallen World, contains everything we once knew. The second, the Supernal world, contains everything there is to know. A long time ago, from what I understand, there was a War. A War to end all Wars – a War that broke the world. Once, all were like we are – able to shape the realities around us. But this War changed everything. It created the Fallen World. Separated us from our birthright. Now, to even be aware that there is more to our surroundings is a great Gift. We few are lucky, but the problem is that we are few.”

He looks mournful, as though remembering exactly how ‘few’ there are. Red Feather sees a great sense of loss in this man, underneath all of the anger.

“You see, since the great schism, the Pillars of the World, the Watchtowers, have been calling to people. Those who are lucky enough have the towers revealed to them. Those who past the tests of the towers Awaken. Those who do not are Sleepwalkers – unlucky enough to have glimpsed their birthright and turned their backs on it, and worse off still that the world seems wronger, somehow, to them.”

“But for we few, through the Watchtowers, we are granted a sympathetic link with the Supernal World. This is where Magic stems from, and what lets us bend the world to our will. You can see evidence of it throughout history, if you know where to look. Shaman, Yogi, and especially your people. Perhaps yours most of all, as they have long had a strong Spiritual link to the Supernal world. Most likely never realized it was so.”

He rolls up his sleeve to reveal a strange looking tattoo of sigils. What makes it look strange is that it seems to be covering some sort of burn – the skin doesn’t look quite normal.

“Unfortunately, this is not without it’s price. For those who are not Awakened have power as well. It’s not as well understood, but easiest explained as the Lie. Even modern psychology has explored it. Denial. Refusal to believe what is true. More dangerous to us than a man with a knife, at times. For those who are not Awakened, witnessing the manipulation of the world around them by forces beyond their ken, it is a traumatic experience. Their belief that it is something so incredibly wrong channels through them the essence of the space between the Supernal and Fallen Worlds – the Abyss. The Abyss is the antithesis of all magic – a pure force of destruction. I have seen those who tried to harness it for their own, and had their minds destroyed, their spirits sundered. If a Sleeper, those who believe in the Lie, witnesses you channeling your abilities, it can unleash a Paradox, as their Lie clashes with your strength. If you’re strong enough, eventually they will forget, rationalize it away. But if not, it can have unpleasant consequences. I got this while attempting to deal with an irrational Spirit – a small child, innocent in all of this, walked into the room as I was attempting to disrupt the ghoul. She saw what I was doing, and my control over the spell began to unravel, seeking to lash out at anything in range. I bound it unto myself, forcing it to focus on the Spirit, but that was not without cost.”

He rolls his sleeve down, taking another drink.

“There are many practitioners, split into a few orders – I don’t know all of them, but most seem friendly enough. But if you run into the Seers of the Throne, run or fight. They are disciples of those who broke the World. Then, there are those who Awaken and are driven to madness by what they find. Or worse, those who rationalize it and take it upon themselves to cull others with talent, to purify the world.”

“I’ve run into all of those, and not one time have I walked away feeling pleased with the experience. But the other orders, while they can be combative, tend to be after one thing – knowledge. As the saying goes, it begets power, and that’s something we’re all invested in having more of. I’ve had decent dealings with the Free Council and the Mysterium, although the Adamantine Arrow have a much bigger footprint in town… they also tend to be the ones I’ve run in the most with. Not everyone is friendly when it comes to acquiring knowledge.”

“I know there are more orders, and even more Cabals such as mine, but I don’t know enough about them to be useful. I could point you in the right direction, but that’s about all I can do there.”

He scratches his chin. “I’ve heard rumors of some Seers targeting some of the weaker Cabals and abducting people, but I have no reason to be sure that’s what happened to your Mentor. At least yours still has a chance at being alive. Better to be abducted than run into a Werewolf any day.”

Red Feather looks thoughtfully into his tea for several minutes.

“So those stories are also true?” He asks finally, “There are what you call Werewolves in the world? Are there other creatures of magic in this city, or elsewhere?”

He pauses another moment and takes a drink of tea. “I wish to try to find my mentor, if he still lives. But I am not so powerful as, I suspect, most of those you call the Awakened in this city. If I were to seek for people to help me, teach me, where would you suggest I began?”

Ghengis brings his fingertips together before nodding his head. “Werewolves, yes. There are strange things and more, in this city and elsewhere – I’ve had run ins with a few… bloodsuckers, mostly. Sleepers as well. I’ve heard rumors of people composed of the elements, and living fairy tales, but I’ve not seen them myself.” He rubs his temples.

“If he lives, there are worse places to look. And if they took him alive, they obviously need him for something. That’s in your favor, as well.” He smiles, showing almost too much tooth. “I don’t know what mojo you’re packing, but there are quite a few small-fry in this town. Just had a few Awaken not that long ago, though they’re already outclassing most of what I’ve seen done. Quick studies, it seems. But if you want help and training? Well, you have some options there.”

He takes a long draw from his can. “You could go the route of self-study – I know some guys who have amassed quite a bit of power that way, but there’s some big drawbacks. It tends to be lonely, for one. And dangerous. But it can be worth it. There’s my small crew – we’re barely even a Cabal anymore. Too few of us around. But we’re more than happy to give you assistance, and we ask little in return. Just a small favor every now and again, to help the group out. You could go with one of the larger organizations – they have a bit more formalized training, and they move and shake, but there’s a price attached to the knowledge they provide. It doesn’t help with the inter-order feuding, either. They’re probably your best bet for straight training, but I doubt it’d come cheap.”

“How interesting,” Red Feather muses, “these people who have just awakened, perhaps they would be a good place for me to begin. Though I awakened many, many years ago, long before you were born, my mentor was not so terribly accomplished himself, and though he taught me all he knew, at least, all he claimed to know, I am still somewhat of a beginner, despite my advanced years.” He smiles at Ghengis, “perhaps with other beginners would be the place to start.”

Ghengis smiles. “I think the others would like you. They’re an odd bunch, but good folk. Pretty talented, and they don’t seem too volatile. Not sure where they’re at, but probably they are causing trouble elsewhere.”

Red Feather regards him for a moment, “Though I would be much appreciative of any help you might be able to offer me as well, and would of course return your favors in kind, provided you did not ask me to do anything I do not believe to be a moral act. If that is acceptable to you, then I would be deeply honored to learn from you.”

Red Feather’s companion snorts with laughter. “First, if something’s immoral, I take care of it, full stop. The other members of my Cabal, Ursa? He’s too kind to do anything like that. Merlin might, but it’d eat him up inside. I’m not going to ask you to kill a Sleeper. That’s not right, and that’s not fair. You want to do it on your own time? Don’t advertise it.” He looks at Red Feather, searchingly. “I’ll teach you what I can, but we’re mostly in this to learn together. Merlin’s the best of us, the cocky bastard, but I’m pretty sneaky too. Ursa has the talent of a man just awakened, but he’s been around the longest. He’s a brilliant researcher. We’d all be glad to help you as much as we can.”

Red Feather inclines his head respectfully and takes another sip of tea. “What is that you are drinking by the way?” He asks, “There are many foods and drinks here I have not heard of before I came, does it have any magical effects?”

Ghengis picks up the can and shakes it, then sighs and tosses it at the nearest garbage can with no care as to whether it makes it in. “Red Bull. Odd taste, but it can help keep you awake. After being up for about two days, it’s helpful. Nothing magical, just good old fashioned chemistry. Now I could go for a bit of Tass tea, that would hit the spot. If you can get it from a source that doesn’t taste like corruption, that is.”

Red Feather shakes his head slightly, deciding to not continue asking about Ghengis’s drinks.

“Do you have anyway to contact the newly awakened group?” He asks, “Perhaps using one of these?” He takes the cell phone out of his pocket.

Red Feather idly notes the time – during Ghengis’ recounting of magic tales, the sun seems to have set already. Ghengis looks vaguely shocked at the appearance of the phone, but covers it quickly.

“Yeah, we could do something like that. Hold on…” He pulls a much more primitive looking phone from his bag and punches a few buttons. “Just checking to see if they’re available..”

He almost drops his phone when Red Feather inquires about Mr. Whittemore. “Wait, he asked to see you? Viktor Whittemore is the Mayor. Of Chicago. All of it. If he asked to see you, that’s huge. I’ve never met the Mayor. Seen him on TV, but never met him. He’s got some interesting ideas about reshaping this town. How did he ask about you, anyway? What exactly have you been up to since you got in to town?”

Their conversation drifts from topic to topic for some time, eventually winding down to the mundane as Red Feather feels the sonic wall around them slowly fade. After nightfall, Ghengis makes sure Red Feather is put up in a nice hotel, footing the bill from his own pocket, and reminding him of an address to be at five the next day.

End of Scene

Comments

Red Feather looks around hesitantly as he steps across the threshold of the bar. Having never been off of the reservation except into the small nearby towns, this new city he found himself in now was over whelming to say the least. Keeping his composure he walked inside and seated himself at the bar.

“Hey!” snapped the bartender as he un-slung his duffle bag to the floor and the small hawk flutter to his shoulder, “no animals in here!”

Red Feather blinks in surprise and curiosity at the man, but then looks down to the hawk who bobs her head once before flying out the door to perch of the roof of the house across the street.

“What the hell…” the bartender mumbles, giving Red Feather a very suspicious look.

“Could I have a cup of tea, please?” Red Feather asks politely, “camomile, if you have it?”

The bartender frowns still deeper, then rummages around deep into the depths of the bar and emerges with a very dusty box of tea.

“Mint work?” he asks gruffly.

“Yes, it will.” Red Feather responds.

The bartender moves off to brew his tea and returns a few minutes later with a beer mug filled with hot, weak tea.

Red Feather suppresses a grimace and takes a sip, thankful for the warmth finally seeping back into him.

December 19th 2010 - Downtown
 

Red Feather slowly lowers his mug to the surface of the bar.

“I never cease to be amazed at the arrogance of those who live in these cities…” he says quietly half to himself, then, addressing the young man directly. “This city is neither yours nor any one persons. This city, and the land on which it sits belongs to the earth and all of her creatures, of which you are one, but cannot make any greater a claim then this ant.” Red Feather gestures to a tiny worker ant slowly climbing across the surface of the bar which the bartender reaches out and quickly squishes upon noticing it.

“who the hell do you think you are??” yells the young man.

Red Feather ignores him and turns to the bartender. “Please do not do that. You may not hear it, but all creatures have thoughts and feelings, that ant did not enjoy being killed by you, and you had no right to take its life.”

“just who the fuck do you think you are?” The young man repeats again, taking an angry step towards Red Feather.

Red Feather slowly rises to his feet and bends to pick up his duffle bag from the floor. He straightens up and stands at his full height, framed in the gathering dawn light outside coming in through the open doorway.

“My name is Red Feather” he says, his voice a quiet rumble, and at that moment the hawk which had flown outside comes sweeping back in through the doorway with a screech to land on his shoulder. “And I am not someone to be trifled with.”

Red Feather picks up his tea, drains it, then walks slowly out of the doorway without another look.

December 19th 2010 - Downtown
 

Red Feather stoops and picks up the phone, holding it awkwardly having never used one before. He had seen children off of the reservation with them, but no one where he had lived had bothered with anything beyond the simplest of mobile devices, and he had never used one. Hesitantly he poked at the screen. The screen remaining stubbornly black and blank, Red Feather pockets the phone and heads off in the direction the man had pointed it. As the buildings around him grow taller, Red Feather looks about himself with mild awe at the idiocy these people had. Why wasn’t living on the ground good enough for them? All of the lavishness seemed so utterly pointless.

It being now quite fully light out, and feeling himself growing ever more hungry, having not put anything into his belly since the night before other than weak mint tea, Red Feather begins to look for somewhere to find some food.

Before Red Feather was born, his Grandfather had discovered small amounts of silver and copper on their acres of property, and the mining continued to earn him a livable if a bit small amount of money every year.

Finally, after passing several McDonalds and a Burger King, he found a small coffee shop which was just opening and walked inside. After his last experience, he asked Sky Dancer to wait outside which she did, perching a top a nearby street light and drawing curious looks from passersby while she preened her wings.

Red Feather ordered a sandwich from the limited menu as well as another cup of chamomile, which he was delited to find out that they did carry, and which he suspected would be much better than at the last place he had tried. After receiving his food and beverage he made his way to a table in the corner, and, after propping his staff carefully against the wall, seated himself looking out of the window.

A young woman came in a few minutes later as he was half-way through with his meal, and, after ordering her coffee, seated herself a table away from him to wait. She pulled out her phone and began tapping against the screen quickly.

“Pardon me,” Red Feather began, looking up at the woman.

“Uhh, what?” She responded suspiciously, giving him a wary but almost amused glance, “can I help you?”

“Possibly,” Red Feather replies, drawing the smartphone from one of his jean pockets and placing it on the table between the two of them, “I found this, and do not know how to use it. I would like to return it to its owner, if possible.” He gives her a warm smile. “I saw you using something similar to this and thought you might be able to help me.”

“Oh,” replies the woman, relaxing visibly, “but, what, you don’t know how to use a phone?”

Red Feather smiled again, “I have never needed before. I am, one could say, quite new around here as I believe the saying goes.”

“Well, its pretty easy,” the woman says, picking up the phone and moving over to sit at the table next to his and leaning in towards him. “See you press this button here, then slide this thing, then you can get into these things, called apps. This is the one you use to call people with, this one you can send messages from, like text I mean, this one gets you to the internet, like that. So I’d go into the phone one and call the persons mom or something… that’s always easy, you’d just tap on their name to call them. Its easy.” The woman hands the phone back to him, “oh, and thats my coffee, gotta go, good luck!”

She grabs her coffee then hurries out of the coffee shop.

December 19th 2010 - Downtown
 

//edit. I realized Red Feather totally has a staff, so henceforth it is here. It has feathers from Sky Dancer (that she dropped) and some other odds and ends to be determined hanging from the top.

Ps, my apologies for the typos I’m sure this update is riddled with, was distracted watching boyfriend defeat zelda game while typing.

December 19th 2010 - Downtown
 

//No worries! There are always allowances for zelda related typos!

December 19th 2010 - Downtown
 

Red Feather studies the now glowing screen with a frown. He doesn’t trust these technology things, they seem too easy to manipulate, and too artificial. Never the less, he stands, gathers up his things, and after busing his own dishes walks out of the door. After several minutes of looking at the map in confusion, he sends Skydancer to scout ahead. A few minutes go by and she returns, flying in a circle above his head before flying off again, then perching on a lamp post to wait for him to follow. Red Feather follows her slowly to the door of a small coffee shop. He looks about himself, wary of a trap, then heads inside.

December 19th 2010 - Downtown
 

“I’m sorry,” Red Feather begins, “I don’t believe I understand. What does this tea do? Do you have any camomile?”

December 19th 2010 - Downtown
 

Red Feather returns the young man’s look with a smile, which, though warm, is guarded against the unknown this man represents.

He moves towards the man in the corner, seating himself on a chair nearby.

“My mentor told me of those who could do that.” He says, gesturing at the floating laptop, and what you did with your voice, quite marvelous." He smiles again, “I can do strange things as well, but they are quite… different.” He gestures about himself, “Though I am indeed, new to these cities, and we do not have such where I come from, this ‘coffee shop’ as you call them seems different than the others I have seen, am I right?”

//cast second sight, look around coffee to determine if there are sleepers present, other information about the guy with the laptop/other persons who look interesting. total of 9 dice for the spell, total of 6 dice to unveil resonance.

December 19th 2010 - Downtown
 

Red Feather considers the young man over the rim of his tea cup which he sniffs suspiciously at. He suspects it is not normal tea, and isn’t sure he wants to find out what exactly it will do directly.

“I find myself in a rather odd situation,” he tells his young companion, “despite being one of what you would call ‘The Awakened’ for most of the years of my life, I am as yet but a novice and new to your ways and sayings. For example, I do not know of these Seers you spoke of, but as I have not, I will presume I am not amoung them. I had a mentor, where I grew up, but he was taken away many years ago. It is because of him that I have come here, I only now recently obtained information that he was taken here, and I have come, to, in whatever way I may, try to help him. I owe him a great debt."

Red Feather blows steam from the top of his tea, “perhaps you could answer some of my questions? I have many, and know of no where else to find them.”

He stretches his hand across the table, “My name is Red Feather, Osiyo, as my people say. It is a pleasure to meet you Ghengis.”

December 19th 2010 - Downtown
 

//Dusky, go ahead and ask your questions in whatever format you’d like – I’ll do a monster update then. :) He is willing, if you ask :)

December 19th 2010 - Downtown
 

//so, with more to come, here are some initial questions RF might have.

I suppose he generally wants to know more about “magic” his exposure was very very limited and was limited to the kinds of magic he knows. so he would like to know more about what other types of magic exist, how many people can use it etc.

beyond that, what sort of magical organizations exist, and especially what exist in chicago.
if he describes the people who abducted his mentor, does genghis know anything about them?

(also, OOC, the people who ran off with his mentor obviously use magic? assuming they did, but not sure)

more to come I’m sure as I think of questions, but thats the majority.

Thanks! =) and sorry for the delay in posting.

December 19th 2010 - Downtown
 

//It’s possible that magic was used in the abduction, but Red Feather has no proof. No worries about the delay – this update should give you something to chew on.

December 19th 2010 - Downtown
 

Red Feather looks thoughtfully into his tea for several minutes.

“So those stories are also true?” He asks finally, “there are what you call Werewolves in the world? Are there other creatures of magic in this city, or elsewhere?”

He pauses another moment and takes a drink of tea. “I wish to try to find my mentor, if he still lives. But I am not so powerful as, I suspect, most of those you call the Awakened in this city. If I were to seek for people to help me, teach me, where would you suggest I began?”

December 19th 2010 - Downtown
 

“How interesting,” Red Feather muses, “these people who have just awakened, perhaps they would be a good place for me to begin. Though I awakened many, many years ago, long before you were born, my mentor was not so terribly accomplished himself, and though he taught me all he knew, at least, all he claimed to know, I am still somewhat of a beginner, despite my advanced years.” He smiles at Ghengis, “perhaps with other beginners would be the place to start.”

He regards Ghengis for a moment, “though I would be much appreciative of any help you might be able to offer me as well though, and would of course return your favors in kind, provided you did not ask me to do anything I do not believe to be a moral act. If that is acceptable to you, then I would be deeply honored to learn from you.”

Red Feather inclines his head respectfully and takes another sip of tea. “What is that you are drinking by the way?” He asks, “There are many foods and drinks here I have not heard of before I came, does it have any magical effects?”

December 19th 2010 - Downtown
 

Red Feather shakes his head slightly, deciding to not continue asking about Ghengis’s drinks.

“Do you have anyway to contact the newly awakened group?” He asks, “perhaps using one of these?” He takes the cell phone out of his pocket.

December 19th 2010 - Downtown
 

ooc// Peet’s sake… I would have had RF ask about Mr. Whittemore! Want me to dialogue out of this, or do you want to work it in?
Sorry for the retcon.

December 19th 2010 - Downtown
 

//Very sorry for the delay in updating.//

December 19th 2010 - Downtown
 

Red Feather awakes the next morning, feeling oddly stiff from sleeping on the unaccocustomed softness of his mattress. He gets dressed and quickly leaves the hotel room, Sky Dancer perched on his shoulder, elegantly preening her feathers. He eventually negotiates the bus system and gets on one that will take him to the address Ghengis gave him the night before.

When he arrives at the destination, he gets off of the bus and carefully looks around himself.

December 19th 2010 - Downtown
Rase Cidraen Portal_In_Peril

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