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[Plot] Reaping What Has Been Sown [Completed]


Ouroboros

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June 18, 2009

Route twenty eastbound rolled underneath the Harley's tires as the engine rumbled contentedly. Two hundred year old farmhouses were spaced apart by more modern starter mansions, tiny strip malls, and the occasional gas station or nursery greenhouse. Despite being only a single lane in either direction the majority of the state road was marked for forty five miles per hour. The trees on either side of the road, broken only occasionly between towns, flew by like a steady sheet of green. Corbin had ridden out to Marlborough chasing after what he had thought to be rumors of a Titanspawn but had turned out to be nothing. The miles rolled by under his bike dusk's last light was being steadily snuffed by darkness. The last town sign he had seen had said Weston and if he recalled corrected he was getting close to the metro area, he would be back into Boston proper in less than an hour barring traffic which seemed to be wholly unpredictable.

The darkness and monotony of the ride were starting to wear on him when things went pear shaped. The bike rounded a corner and the beam of the headlamp swept across the empty lane and was suddenly filled with the shape of a person. Corbin twisted the handlebars and applied the breaks hard and fast. The wheels protested, the engine argued disagreeably, and the bike as a whole stuttered and wobbled like a drunken sot. Corbin crossed the white line on the edge of the road and everything went black as he pitched into the underbrush at the edge of the road. He managed to maintain enough control to stay with the bike until it finally ditched him. He tumbled one way and the bike another. Stunned seconds passed before he realized that he was miraculously unhurt and lying on cool grass staring into the evening sky as the stars began to peirce the veil of night.

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"Uhhhh..." he groaned trying to persuade his body to stop arguing with him and shake away the pain and tightness that was common wit ha tussled body. He looked to his bike, which would certainly need a body shop. "Fantastic... just effin' fabulous."

He got to his feet and did the obligatory side to side cracking of his neck. Seemed appropriate... after all he was a nineteen year old man living the worlds longest action movie. He stiffened himself a bit and tempered his awareness... any second now the shinobi would spring from the darkness, or a giant or their ilk would rise up from the earth to challenge him, cursing his divine blood with every breath.

He so loved being him.

About the only thing that snapped him away from his 'Last Action' moment was remembering seeing a person, or the shape of one at least. I may have hit someone... His mind settled his adrenaline a bit, calling on him to pretend, for just a moment, that not everything in life was battles with titanspawn, evil cults, and therianthropes. From time to time he'd be called upon by Fate to act like the man he was instead of the Scion he'd become. That included having concern for his fellow mortals, which was in itself, a virtuous act.

He wasn't thrilled about it... but what it they were hurt?

"Hello!?" He cried out into the darkness of the Massachusetts night as he made his way back to the road with a concerned light jog. "Is anyone there? Are you hurt?"

There were no street lights. On a night like tonight one relied on their vehicle's headlights to guide them along the road. With Corbin's bike (probably wrecked, he was too scared to check) down in the ditch and off in the field the area was black as pitch.

He called on his divine heritage, embracing the darkness of the still night he allowed his eyes to welcome its chilled embrace. His world melted into black and white and in just a few moments was able to see as clearly as mortal could during the day, albeit in a monochrome spectrum.

"Sorry for almost or... uh, actually hitting you, ya know, if I did." His head whipped about as he looked toward the road ahead trying to find the person shaped person he'd almost, or uh, actually hit just moments ago. "Hello!?"

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Corbin stumbled out onto the shoulder of the road and with a moment to adjust he could soon see well enough by starlight and the distant glow of the city as he could before. Except for that whole color thing but when he saw really made more of an impact in black and white. The view that Corbin now beheld brought memories of his childhood to him. One evening he had snuck out of bed and while the rest of the house was asleep he had watched George Romero's classic Night of the Living Dead. Ten years later we wasn't sure if he'd hit his head or not, but he definitely saw a woman in a shabby dress standing in the middle of the road who could have been an extra on the film.

He took a step forward and heard an annoyingly loud crack from under his boot as a dry branch shattered. The form in the center of the road turned revealing a face that not even a mother could love. Gone were the eyes and lips, the skin had sunken inward and what remained of the scalp was barely clinging to the skull. Its jaw dropped open as it began to shamble unsteadily toward Corbin. He blinked, uncomprehending, as the corpse's skin began to glow. The blast of a powerful air horn was too little too late and the truck, breaks screeching protest, slammed into the walking corpse. Dry bones shattered, dessicated flesh turned to powder and in seconds the corpse was in pieces tumbling across the road.

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The zombie's head tumbled and rolled until it came to a stop under Corbin's boot where he held it like one might a soccer ball. He was trying not to laugh but the sight of the the dead bitch getting plastered against a radiator grill that read 'Haulin' Ass' was too brilliant.

"Didn't momma ever tell you to look both way before crossing the street?" He said to the 'lifeless' head as he bent down and picked it up.

Casually he walked towards the rig, rolling the head up his arm then snapping his elbow to bounce it back into his hand several times. The truck driver was a bit panicked, looking about for who he'd hit and where they'd gone.

"Thanks for the help." Corbin said, strolling up with a zombies head bouncing from his arm to his hand. "I'm sure I coulda laid the bitch out myself, but hell, that timing was perfect."

Noticing the shock and fear on the drivers face he held up his hand to calm him down. "Relax, man. It was just a zombie. She was already dead."

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The trucker was halfway out of the cab when Corbin came around bouncing the skull of the corpse from his hand to his arm and back. This big man when pale and hastily climbed back inside, the pop of the air brakes letting go came before the door was even closed and the truck was rolling before Corbin could even start down his next comment. In short time the taillights were out of sight and the darkness had reclaimed the road, which Corbin realized was not the best place to stand bouncing a skull on one's arm.

He made his way to his bike, visions of a twisted disaster dancing in his head. The thicket was easy to push through bring that there was a Harley sized hole already torn in it. Corbin found the bike quickly and with a heave uprighted it. Corbin spun the wheels and checked the handlebars and found that neither were damaged. The paint, chrome, and the exhaust piping could not claim the same however. The bike was functional but repairs would still be expensive, even if he somehow were able to do the labor himself.

Propping the bike on its stand he took a moment to look around, the skull still in his grasp. His vision clear and capable now, he saw that the clearing was not what he had thought. Small upright stones marked it as a cemetery, and give their relative size and apparent state of care an old on at that.

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"Damn it." He complained once he was able to clearly see the damage. Cost wasn't the issue, like parent with a sick child, he wasn't so much worried about the hospital bill as he was his baby. "Don' worry. We'll get you patched up sweetie." He patted the seat as he stood up, noticing the cemetery.

Well, well..." He looked out across the way at the gathering of the dead. His head turned to the dessicated skull in his hand, holding it aloft so it was eye level with him. "Been a swell date, but I guess I should take you home, huh?"

Without further delay Corbin headed down into the cemetery, if there were more of 'her' around then they'd need to be dealt with, especially if there were innocent people near by who could fall victim to their mindless rampages. It was moments like this he lived for, being a Scion meant keeping the World safe in the Gods' names, and he'd not fail them in that duty.

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"Actually I wouldn't mind if you could drop me off in a newer part of the cometary. If it's not a bother I mean?" The skull spoke, its eyes aglow with eldritch power. "I also wouldn't mind if you would stop bounding me about like that, I'm getting motion sick." Corbin stopped, regarding the skull in his hands at it appeared to stare back with eyes of amethyst flame. He had also found the disturbed patch of ground that the corpse had apparently come from. "Help a guy out?"

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Corbin had seen, and done, a lot as a Scion. When the skull spoke suddenly it scared the Hel out of him but he thankfully didn't let it show. "A talking dead guy, new on me."

He listened to the skull's request and finally quirked an eyebrow. "There's no reason why I couldn't help you out," He paused, not knowing a name to mention to the skull. "But there's a problem. I can't have you up and running about, you or your buddies. You're dead, and you need to stay put."

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"Aww, come on. It's not like I'm gonna stumble around moaning about brains and looking for human flesh! I just want to get out of this damned cemetery. You have any idea how boring these places are? Nothing but weepy women, and weepy guys pretending to not be weepy so that they don't feel emasculated. Booorring! I just want to get out, stretch my ... err, legs ..." The skull paused and affected an awkward look somehow before continuing, "We could go get a beer maybe?"

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"Well, the truck wasted your legs bro, sorry." He tried to put up a face that seemed apologetic but wasn't sure of the skull could see it through the thick hair that fell over his face. "Look, you seem cool enough, for a dead guy, but you have to understand that you're dead. I'm not sure why all you dead people are having trouble staying that way, but there is no place for you here among the living any more."

A part of Corbin felt sorry for the guy, it certainly wasn't his fault that he couldn't go peacefully into the Underworld, not with the Titans having broke free of the their prison and collapsing the access to the various lands of the dead. "I'm trying to fix the problem, me and others like me, we're going to help get you back into the Cycle of Rebrith. But you gotta work with us, no wandering about."

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"Yeah I didn't really see that truck coming," the skull said apparently changing subjects. "Not much of a loss that body wasn't all that fresh." The skull hopped in Corbin's hand which almost caused him to drop it altogether. The amethyst eyes regarded the tombstone, "Hmm, well that would explain it." The skull hopped around an regarded Corbin again, "Bitch was two hundred years dead, lucky she was mobile at all! Dude cut me some slack, I just want a change of scenery. I'll buy, gotta think these corpses usually have some sweet jewelry on them. Come on, just for the night? I'm dying here ... OK, well, I'm dead here. What's the worst that could happen?"

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"I'm going to kick myself for this later..." Corbin protested out loud. "Alright, but there are rules. One." He held up his finger. "You stay in the skull. Two." He held up a second finger. "You do not speak around people. We'll get you a few beers, and then you settle down, deal?"

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The skull seemed to consider Corbin's offer. After a moment it said, "If I agree to stay in the head you'll agree to carry my out of the cometary?" Corbin open his mouth to reply but the skull cut him off. "Once you've gotten me out of Dullsville Cemetary we can discuss beer and chattiness. I don't want to be accidentally bound to a Scion because I agreed to too much for too little." The purple eyes regarded Corbin, waiting for his reply to the skull's counteroffer.

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It was going to be along night...

"Bound?" Corbin made a face, hidden by his hair. "Dude, look, I'm not talking sacred pacts or blood sworn oaths here, kay? I just need you to agree to be quiet and chill the fuck out while I score us some brew."

He mounted the battered Harley and nestled the skull atop the handle bars with it looking out on to the road ahead. "Name's Corbin, Scion of The Morrigan. You play it cool, and I'll play it cool, and everyone's happy. Screw me over and well have issues." He wasn't against getting the skull a few beers, there were no divine laws against fraternizing with the dead, but he also knew that neither party had reason to trust the other so he let the simple threat rest at that.

He looked at the skull, dirt and bits of dried flesh still clung here and there. "Yer a mess." He said as the bike roared to life.

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The skull gave a snort, "And your bike looks like shit. I have an excuse does it?" Corbin glared at it and the skull glared back until the bikes started to bump back over the lumpy hedgerow toward the road. "Just a little further now, almost ..." They crossed through the hedge and the bike bumped up from the shoulder onto the road itself. "YES!!" The skulls voice changed from a vaguely masculine one to a distinctly feminine voice. The skull rose up off the handle bars, now fully enveloped in violet fire. "Free at long last!" The skull turned toward Corbin and he could make out the faint purple glow spreading throughout the area as the scatter bits and pieces of the skeleton began to glow sympathetically.

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Corbin sighed. Momma said there'd be days like this...

Casually he stopped the bike and turned it about face so he was facing the floating skull and the assorted body parts. It was rather obvious the thing wanted out, but Corbin couldn't destroy the spirit while it was in the skull, it needed to be out in a solid form. He lazily leaned on the handle bars, his hands clasped together waiting, rather unimpressed with the entire display.

His enech called on him to give the spirit the benefit of the doubt. There were both good and evil spirits in the World, and he'd have to do this one the honor of letting it state it's intentions before he dealt with it.

He looked at the light show. "Lemme know when you're finished. I think you and I need to have a talk."

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The corpse quickly rebuilt itself, at least as far as its prior appearance minus the ragged clothing. The skeleton stood before Corbin and shook its head, two hundred year old bones and flesh creaked as it moved, "I have no further need for your help, now that am free I will be quite capable of fending for myself from here." The skeleton turned and began to walk away along the side of the road. "Thank you for your help dear."

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Beneath his hair he rolled his eyes. Why did they always have to be difficult.

"Look, lady, I'm having a really bad night," get got off his bike and popped the kick stand. "You know I can't let you go traipsing around like that." He motioned to her skeletal form.

His eyes, still attuned to the darkness, adapted a new quality. Having become inky black with the use of Nighteyes, they now each formed a simple bone white vertical slit, like that possessed by reptiles, that bestowed upon his the ability to see the dead and their spirits that lay on the other side, invisible to mortal eyes.

The lands of the dead opened up to him and he could see the spirit as she really was: an attractive [App 4] woman in her early thirties.

Her ghostly form was overplayed atop the skeletal remains of her former body creating a creepy three dimensional effect. Her ghost was wearing a lovely white dress that was cut modestly yet complimented her attractive features.

"Yer pretty hot, for a dead chick. Now I'm trying to be as polite as I can, considering you've obviously been through a lot... being dead, hit by a truck, yadda, yadda, but could you please not bust my balls and just stop walking so we can hash this out like reasonable supernatural individuals?"

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She sighed, "Why? What is there to hash out? You brought me out of the cemetery willingly, there was no bargain and so I owe you nothing, unless ..." She looked at him, "No, I think not. Begone now before my gratitude wanes." She turned and walked away heading down the road as thought nothing were amiss.

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"Alright." He said as he started walking forward. "Have it your way. You have one last chance, I've stated my position here, I can't let you walk around like that and you don't seem to have heard me the fifty some odd times I've said it. I tried to be nice, and you've spat it back in my face."

The Raven's Claw shimmered in the pale moon light. "I don't appreciate that. Now if I have to drag you back there bone by bone and bury you myself, I will. You gonna be sensible, or am I going to break you?"

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"You certainly can but you aren't willing. Fine," the skeleton stopped and turned toward Corbin once more, "Well whatever you are going to do, do it now. I don't have all night you know." The transparent imagine of the woman rolled her eyes and appeared to look down at her nails for a moment before realizing the futility of the gesture. Patiently the woman waited for Corbin to act, her ghostly image studying him intently as she did.

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"Have it your way, if you had some business to tend to you should have simply come out with it and I prolly woulda helped ya, because now I'm going to detain you through force. Sorry it had to be this way."

The Raven's Claw shimmered into action as he polished silver glove passed through the spirit's translucent exterior and smashed into her sternum cracking bone and and breaking ribs.

Click to reveal..

Attack = Corbin rolls 8d10 and gets 8,8,5,10,9,1,10,10 (11 Sux)

Damage = Corbin rolls 19d10 and gets 4,2,7,1,2,1,7,10,3,6,7,2,1,1,7,1​,1,4,8 (8 Sux)

Damage = 8 - 2L = 6L damage

He felt bad for having to do this, but he had no time to deal with insolent ghosts who insisted on defying him and spitting his hospitality back in his face.

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Corbin's attack staggered the revenant backwards, cracks from his silver gauntleted fist began to spread outward filling with the same amethyst glow that came from the spirits eyes. In moments the entire skeleton was a patchwork of cracks pulsing with arcane power. The skeleton lunged and as Corbin raised his hands into a defensive posture the spirit rammed itself down onto the Raven's Claw. Bone broke and the skeleton shattered as though it had been made of glass. Thank you scion, you have freed me at last. The spirit no longer bound to its former flesh spoke in the hushed tones of the dead that only one such as Corbin could perceive. I was bound to the place of my burial and to my mortal remains, but you have freed my spirit at last. She reached out to brush his hair from his face with a spectral hand but of course it merely passed through him.

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The dark Scion was shocked by the light show and the ease with which his opponent was defeated. He expected some epic showdown with this Lich Queen from beyond Hel's gates... where was the explosions, the dramatic leaps and melee attacks, her army of undead followers?

Realizing that the only glory to be gained from this battle was the gratitude of this spirit, Corbin attempted to compose himself. He had egged him on in the hopes that he would shatter her fetter to the mortal world, but he did his best to bullshit his way through it. "Uh, yeah... ya know, don't mention it lady. Glad I could help and all. Burials, mortal remains, undead fetters... I do this all the time. Rest in peace an' all that," He nodded and raised his gauntleted hand in a polite 'farewell' wave. "If you're ever in the neighborhood, look me up we'll have that beer..."

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"Wait!" the shade looked around, her eyes wide with worry, "Where is the light? Where is the path to heaven?" It was a fair question, one that begged asking because indeed there was no tunnel of light, no pit into Hades, no Valkyrie, no Angel. "I thought I was free from that curse, why am I denied heaven?" Her eyes pleaded with Corbin for an explanation.

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This was so not going to be easy...

"Yeah... see, about that," The dark Scion scratched his head, trying to think of the most diplomatic way to break the news to her. "There's no heaven to go to anymore. The path that leads us there has been, uh, broken." He pursed his lips, feeling sorry for her and her predicament. "I'm trying though, me, and others like me, we're trying to fix it."

His voice, despite his dark exterior and 'road warrior' appearance, was calm, polite, and apologetic. His hand touched hers as it still lay gently across his cheek, his Death Senses allowing him to touch her immaterial form, although the touch was illusory at best. "I know you feel like you've waited forever, and I'm sorry that you must wait longer, I really am. Please though spirit, I ask for your patience and prayers in hopes that they'll give us the strength we need to help get you to the serenity I know you deserve."

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She looked sad, worried, "Broken? How could the path to heaven itself be broken? What am I to do? Wander the cemetery until you find something?" She was in obvious distress. Corbin had barely a moment to think before something fluttered down and landed on his bike's handlebars. A crow. It picked at a tuft of grass lodge between the speedometer and the tachometer and then looked at both Corbin and the ghost.

"Caw?" To Corbin the message was plain as English, What now Scion?

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"Pardon me a moment." He said to the spirit after observing the crow perch.

"I wish I knew." The dark Scion spoke plainly to the corvid. He took a few steps forward before stopping bowing his head slightly out of respect for the creature. "Shepherding the dead is not something I'm capable of. I have no wisdom to offer, regretfully. I can only offer to watch over her, it's all I can give."

His Enech was strong. Corbin's Piety and personal acceptance of himself and his place in the World allowed his words to come forward with truth and dignity. If it was his place to watch over this spirit, then he would do so.

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The bird looked at him for a long moment and then cocked its head, "Caw, caw caw, caw ...The Morrigan said you would say that. Insufferable when she's right you know. The Titans rent the path from Earth to the Under-world asunder when they escaped, but that does not mean that one cannot go from here to there." The bird took a break and nabbed a beetle crunching the insect thoughtfully for a moment. "The task you have laid before you is to locate a Way. Before you ask what a Way is let me explain.

"There are spots in this world that rub closer to the heavens than others. Most were not built they just happened, too much Godly mucking about thinned out the distinction between worlds, made them bleed together a bit. Same happens between here and the Under-world. You lack the power and skill to make use of one of these natural weak spots so unless you manage to find somebody who can ... you'll need a Way.

"The Ways are doors, portals, what-have-you, that were built by the Gods to allow for Scions with enough gumption to access the Under- and Over-worlds. If you can find one and get it to work you can lead the restless dead from this world to the next. You'll probably need help but that why I'm here. The Morrigan wanted me to tell you that Boston has become a Locus of Scions in recent months. You should be able to find some help among your own kind, assuming you play nice that is." The crow hopped up to Corbin's arm and looked about ready to fly off when it stuffed its wings back once more, "Any questions kid?"

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"Yes, of course." Corbin stood relaxed, folded his arms and scratched his cheek after a few moments. "That's why she sent me here. With so many gathered in such a small area, surely the titans will be on their way soon enough." Then he slammed his gloved fist loudly into his hand. "Bring em' on."

"Thank you friend crow, you've been most helpful." Politely he nodded at the bird as his stare fell once more upon the por spirit trapped between worlds. "I know what I must do spirit and I beg your patience. Please know that your torment hurts my heart and I shall endeavor to quicken your release from this tortured state."

The engine rumbled to life on his beat up machine. His steel horse has seen better days, but luckily it still had some life left in it.

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The spirit nodded, a sad look in her eyes, "I will remain within the bounds of the holy ground of the cemetery. Please do not tarry at this task, the unhomed souls of the dead will no doubt continue to increase in number."

The crow, its duty done, flew off into the night and even to Corbin's vision disappeared in less than a dozen yards, its black on black coloring bleeding like ink into the surrounding darkness. Corbin found that his headlight worked but it mount was damaged and the beam of light skewed off into the darkness at an oblique angle. With a bit of force he was able to orient it so as to be useful and bidding farewell to the spirit he drove off into the night once more heading toward the orange glow of the city to the east.

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