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The Stranger
The boy lay staring wide-eyed into darkness. He could
barely move. The ropes that bound him dug painfully
into his wrists and the gag at his mouth prevented him
from crying out. He could just make out the shape of an
old man as he paced back and forth through the
shadows. He did not know how he had come to be
trapped in a tiny shack in the middle of nowhere; the last
hours were a blur. He had been running home from
playing in the town-square with his friends…
Then this!
He writhed as fear rose in his throat. His neck throbbed
painfully and his head swam.
"Not long now, my young friend." The old man
muttered gruffly. As if sensing his unrest, he came closer,
reaching out a pale finger and placing it upon his lips. He
smelled strange, of death and the grave. "We'll soon put
you to rest."
Then he came closer, his eyes twin embers of lecherous
crimson where his pupils should be.
"Stand up." He commanded. The boy tried to look away,
tried to avoid his gaze, but he was drawn back to the old
man's eyes; drawn into their flaming depths. He could
not look away. His will drained, he found himself on his
feet.
"Stand still." The old man said. The boy did as he was
told. The other turned him around and deftly split his
bonds with a claw-like fingernail, freeing his hands. He
lifted one of the boy's arms, running his fingers lightly
across his warm flesh.
"So pale, so smooth." He muttered. The boy screamed
inwardly as he felt the freezing chill of contact pass
between them. He could not scream; the eyes prevented
him from speaking, or even moving.
Instead he watched as the old man sunk his teeth deep
into his wrist.
White-hot agony lanced through him, yet the eyes
continued to burn in his mind. He knew he should be
screaming, crying out and fighting for his life. But he
could not. The eyes were his absolute master and they
commanded him to be still.
So he stood there, listening to the slurping as the old
man drank of his blood.
But suddenly, they were not alone. The boy gazed across
the shack to the tiny window.
Standing, limned in the pale moonlight was a figure.
Almost invisible in the darkness, the figure stood
motionless, watching.
Realising something was amiss, the old man lifted his
head and followed his eyes.
There was a moment of absolute silence, and perhaps
recognition between the old man and the stranger. Then
the old man hissed, and turned quickly back to the boy.
"Do not move." He commanded, his eyes blazing. With
that he turned, and with a low growl, moved across the
room to the window.
"This is wrong." He snarled to the stranger. "You should
not be here, traitor."
Faster than the eye could see, the stranger moved
forward, flipping through the air in a blur of agility and
darkness. He took hold of the old man and cast him
across the shack where he crunched loudly against the
flimsy wall.
But the fight was not yet over. The boy watched as the
stranger and the old man fought, exchanging blows
faster than his eyes could follow. The old man attacked
with claws and hissing venom, yet the other took hold of
his wrists with one hand and withdrew a shining knife
from within the folds of his robe with the other. In a
single fluid motion, the stranger plunged the gleaming
blade into the old man's chest. Light of every color
coruscated around the two figures, filling the room with
brilliance.
The old man screamed aloud a high-pitched shriek of
defeat and terror, "Noooooooo!"
Then he was gone. Even before the stranger had
withdrawn the knife and returned it to his robe, the old
man was defeated, turning to dust before his eyes.
The stranger did not stop. He turned and walked to the
wooden door. There he risked one last look back at the
boy, who suddenly understood.
"Marik?" He said, his voice trembling. "I. I thought you
were…?"
"Dead?" His brother replied emotionlessly. "I am. But I
am still here for you. Whenever you need me, I will be
there."
With that he vanished into the night, a blur of shadow
against the growing darkness of midnight.
[ This story comes from Bottled Imp Games as they continue to tease us with snippets from their forthcoming Darkness Rising series!]
Vilgilance
Psychic
Masters of the mind, psychics are staples in comic
book adventures. Often these characters are the
glue that holds a team together, despite their weak
physical stature
Adventures: Psychics see adventures as a
chance to expand their knowledge of the super-
natural. A psychic will seek out situations where
his potent mental abilities will be of use. A favorite
tactic is to use Mindlink to allow their teammates
to plan and communicate silently, coordinating
their efforts even though great distances might
separate them.
Alignment: Psychics may be of any alignment.
Good psychics are very careful about using their
powers to influence normals, and will never do so
for personal gain. Chaotic and neutral psychics
have no such compunctions, using their power to
advance their position, spreading their influence
like a cancer. Evil psychics actually enjoy the use
of their powers, seeing their domination of the
weak minded as their birthright.
Background: Psychic characters. backgrounds
tend to be off the beaten track, and their contacts
reflect this. Paranormal investigators, military
remote viewers, and UFOlogists are all sources of
information and aid to psychics. Many psychics
aid police in their attempts to solve crimes, so a
psychic.s contacts could also include police detec-
tives or private eyes.
Origins: Psychics with the advanced training and
scientific experiment origins tend to have govern-
ment affiliations, and use their enhanced feats and
skill points to become psychic infiltrators or spies.
Advanced training allows psychics to use their
extra feats and quickly master devastating metap-
sionic feats. Alien psychics use their extra power
to master a wide range of potent abilities. Artificial
life and cybernetic origins provide the relatively
weak psychic with a boost in his defenses. The
increased number of power points granted by the
mutant origin make mutant psychics very com-
mon. Mystic encounter psychics tend to be mas-
ters of the mystic arts, waging a secret war against
things mankind chooses not to believe in.
Other Classes: Psychics, as mentioned above,
are excellent team characters. Mindlink is of
tremendous value to a team in combat, allowing
members silent communication across great dis-
tances, which helps prevent a team from being
split up, or surprised.
[ This excerpt comes from the new print version of the Vigilance d20 super hero game. ]
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