Bi-Weekly

Nation Building

Issue #2 – And here’s the pitch

By: Robert Rock
Note: This storyline is set prior to "Tempus Fugit" in Pendragons

The ballroom was full of the oddest collection of creatures the young porter had ever seen.  If he were not absolutely positive that what he was seeing was real, he would have sworn his friend Steve had dropped shit in his drink, again.

But these creatures were real, and since the rise of the Black Mass barrier it became more and more frequent that you bumped into them.  Still though, it was creepy as all get out to be this close to a collection of myth and horror stories from his youth.

A group of scantily clad female vampires spoke with a very large werewolf.  What looked to be a zombie spoke with what could only be described as a demon.  What ever the zombie had said made the demon laugh out loud and the young porter was sure that the sound of the laugh would echo in his nightmares for the rest of his life.

Walking directly towards him was a thing dressed in torn clothing and a long ratty jacket.  His greenish skin hung over his frame and dropped off him in small chunks as he made his way towards the young porter.  As he got closer the young porter could see worm sliding in and out of the dead flesh.

“Hey champ, get us another drink will you,” Ghoul called out as he rattled his glass in the air.

That was the breaking point and the young porter screamed and ran for the door.

The manager stepped out of the office just in time to see him as the door to the ballroom closed.  “God damnit, that’s the third tonight.  I’ll be serving the drinks myself at this rate.”

“Well you can start with mine,” Ghoul called to the manager still waving his glass.

Before the manager could answer, the lights in the ballroom dimmed and a spotlight appeared on the podium at the front.

A large, regal man stepped onto the stage and walked purposefully to the podium.  He had a mane of long straight silver hair that fell down past his shoulders and he possessed a complexion that was pale to the point of looking sickly. His body held a muscular build.  The physic gave you the impression that shaking his hand would be absolutely no fun.  But these three distinctive attributes paled in comparison to his eyes.  The more you looked at the man’s eyes the less you were sure what colour they were.  Were they blue, green, white? They seemed to constantly change in both colour and appearance.

The man reached forward and gently tapped the mike.  It produced a familiar thunk sound as he cleared his throat and begin to speak.

“I thank you all for coming this night.  I am Mortigen and as some of you know I have been very active in our community for eons. This activity has mainly centered on developing a homeland or commune to call our own.  We have lived scattered to the four corners of the earth and now strive to not only have a home, but to have recognition as well.  I am now attempting to rectify this situation working not only in our community, but also with political leaders.  As I look out on the world around us, we are all trapped within the Blackmass barrier.  The Red Lord and the Bane war with Doom for supremacy, and they pay little heed to any others within the barrier.  As well, our brethren are being used as manual labour with out pay, respect or status attributed to them both here in Britain and all across Europe.

There is a reaction of uncertainty from the crowd.  Murmurs travel through the crowd as everyone shares their opinions to what they’ve just heard.  Some agreeing vehemently and shouting their support and others more quietly weighing Mortigen’s words.

“Why do I do this, you may ask.  We have kept to ourselves for fear of rejection or reprisal if our existence was truly confirmed.  This has changed with the barrier; people are ready to except us as a reality.

Who are we to them?  We are the stuff of legend and folk tale.  We are those who are called monsters or myths and have scared and delighted their children for generations untold.

But underneath, we are as human as they are in a sense, are we not? We live, we love, and yes, we die. 

We want to do all of these things in the open and freely, without fear or hatred.

What I’m proposing to you now is not an empire ruled by me.  I offer a corporate structure based on solid, well research business models that should ensure both our acceptance and prosperity in this new world.

I have none of the megalomania of Doom; I don’t seek to rule the world.  I have none of the monotheistic desires of the Red Lord; I don’t seek to be worshipped.

What I do seek is the establishment of Legends PLC. and for all of us in this room and abroad to put aside our traditional hatreds, our ingrained prejudices and work toward solid attainable goals.  Thank You."

Mortigen finished his speech and stepped back from the microphone.  He was greeted by thunderous applause by the gather crowd.  Well-wishers surge forward to clasp his hand and congratulate him on his words.

“Well, well” Ghoul whispered to himself. “This one bears keeping an eye on.”

Outside Putney

On the wind swept bridge that connects Putney to Fulham over the Thames. Peter Wisdom approached Chief Inspector Eccles.  The wind whipped his beige trench coat around his legs.  As he walked he placed a Silk Cut in his mouth and ignited a hot knife on his index finger to light his smoke.

“So out from your hole then?” Chief Inspector Eccles greeted Wisdom, as he got close enough.

“Appears so,” is all that Wisdom responded.

“Aye, there’s real trouble afoot in London Pete.  I think will need you to ensure things don’t get out of hand.” Eccles reached out and handed him a file.

Pete flipped through the file quickly.  “I’ve heard of this bloke, Eccles.  I can tell you he’s for real and that you’re going to need a hell of a lot more than me to contain him.”

“I’m getting everyone from the Department on it right away.  If it gets beyond us, then we’ll contact the Pendragons or some such.”

“Fine, I let you know what I can scare up.”  Peter turns and walks back toward Fulham, exhaling a long plume of smoke.

Next Issue: Dust starts to gather information and Eccles brings more people on board.

Authors Note:

Well, here’s number two.  This first story arc will be a slow burn and I hope that you’ll stick with me through it. I’m writing several weekly issues all at once, so I haven’t received any feedback yet, but that should stop you from sending some to rarock2002@yahoo.ca.

Cheers,

Robert