He hoped the neighbors would be alright. Yarya and Zebryl had already forgotten about the incident. No one told Betty so she remained blissfully unaware of the situation.
After getting fully dressed, which only entailed putting on the re-redened Santa vest, Robin slipped into the back yard to peek over the side fence. The two nasty neighbors had not moved from where they had fallen. Both continued to roll and sway like hollow beach sticks swishing gently back and forth on an incoming tide.
Robin made up names as he hissed, “Hey! Garth. Sharon. Wake up!” Maybe it was his imagination again, but he thought he could also hear whimpering coming from the house over the back fence where Yarya had fed. This entire neighborhood was about to deal with some spooky shit once word got around that two entire households had been… what? He didn’t even have a word for all this confuckery.
A little bit louder this time, “Garth! Sharon! Get the fuck up and go to bed.”
Still no response. Their ejected ResolveDo I dare go over and take all those ? It’s not like I can stuff it back in them. At least I don’t think I can. I really do need to recharge my cards before real shit hits the fan. The memory of the green dollops’ tangy Margarita flavor made his mouth water. He actually felt thirsty.
Without thinking any more about it, Robin went into Betty's front yard, found the side-neighbor’s gate and slunk into their back yard. He prodded at the couple with one foot then tried to get the woman to sit up. No amount of shaking or cajoling changed their condition. They remained excavated lumps of humanity without the will to move indoors or even to speak.
Robin finally resorted to half-carrying, half-dragging them back into their musty beige house and deposited them on the master bed. He left them side by side, arms crossed as if in deep contemplation. He used a grocery sack from their cluttered kitchen to collect all the Resource
The devil siblings, thankfully fully dressed now, were busy doing inexplicable and esoteric things around the house. They rapped on walls, peered into every nook and cranny while studying the foundation, attic and all the windows. They spoke in hushed whispers but Robin wasn’t interested in figuring out what they were actually up to. He was too preoccupied at having wrecked two people’s lives, perhaps forever. At least he hadn’t killed them. Maybe there was something doctors could do?
He didn’t want to get Betty involved as her innocence in the matter needed to be protected. There was also the issue of Yarya having left a family in bad condition in the house behind them. Should he go check on them, too? He decided against it. It was best left up to the authorities.
Betty had an actual landline phone in her kitchen with big punch-number buttons. Knowing he risked bringing unwanted attention to their household, Robin decided to call 9-1-1. He fabricated an oblique tale making it sound like the side-neighbors had gotten into some sort of altercation with the back-neighbors. He explained there had been no obvious signs of actual violence, but he was concerned about the well-being of the kids and thought maybe the police should look into it.
He was told social police officers would make a wellness check at both addresses and would be in contact if they had any questions. Robin hung up hoping he had not just exposed Betty and the devils to unwanted scrutiny. He was afraid of what Yarya might do if police came a-knocking and she felt threatened, or hungry. Especially police officers, whatever that meant. Did this city have different styles of cops and not just intolerant, wanna-be action heroes like the real USA?
In the end, all the crazy scenarios running through Robin’s mind never came to pass. Squad cars and ambulances eventually showed up at both neighbor houses. The cops did come to Betty’s house to question everyone. He convinced the devils to stay hidden away during the interviews while Betty’s sweet, charming nature entirely disarmed the police. Hopefully they had never been suspicious of them in the first place. Robin breathed a sigh of relief when it was all over and all six NPC neighbors — the two crusty bigots and the family of four at the back — were carted away to receive mental health treatment. At least that’s what he and Betty were told.
The rest of the week was spent watching Yarya laze about the house demanding Betty step-and-fetch everything for her. Zebryl stayed busy sitting meditatively in various spots around the house casting what he described as magical wards. He was so involved in the process of solidifying the house as their new HomeBaseFear
For Robin’s part, he feared Yarya was keeping Betty far too busy with menial tasks. The succubus had taken the master bedroom for herself making Betty sleep on the tiny pull-out bed in the third bedroom. Robin had not been privy to the discussion, but he suspected the devil had frightened the old woman into giving up her room. He couldn’t tell for sure, but Betty’s hands seemed shakier than usual and she avoided making eye contact with the she-devil, but was always quick with a ‘yes, ma’am’ response to Yarya’s every demand.
Robin wanted to confront Yarya, but even after returning to full power from six days of rest and consuming 56 of the 66 collected ResolveHome Base
Too bad, kid. You coulda made this little house into a real home if you had only tried. A Mystic Abode woulda been a sweet cerulean addition to the neighborhood. Now you’re gonna have to hope your Santa suit is fireproof as this place is now a Hell House.
You have been designated Flunky Number One in this nascent cabal. The succubus is the Head of House and the incubus is the Superintendent.
This Home Base has been imbued with the following ritual wards: Knock Knock Ka-Boom on all exterior doors, No Peek-a-Boo on all the windows and Hidey Hole over the entire property.
In addition to those protections, resting in this Hell House provides Ace-tier healing and double benefits for consuming Fear while on the premises.
Sweet smokey dreams, my human friend, yer gonna get yer goose cooked like a lamia-kidney pie in Clan Infernal.
With further research, and after consulting Zebryl, Robin learned that any one of them was able to trigger an explosion at the threshold of an exterior door simply by invoking the word “KA-BOOM” out loud. The windows were enchanted so as to show nothing but a plain, prosaic room to anyone looking in no matter who or what was actually inside. Finally, the ritual called was the same one the devils had used to keep their brothel off the radar of other supernatural clans in the city. Zebryl did admit it was most effective against magical scrying spells and did little to disguise it from the in-person perceptions of other PlayersPlayer
One other thing the manual suggested he do was upgrade his SkillsAttributesExperience Dots
Congratulations, Player! You’ve survived long enough to get Dotted. And by “Dotted” it means you’ve become a teensy-weensy bit more experienced and can put it to good use. Specifically speaking, you’ve got 6 dots to spend.
Each Dot of experience can be used to check off one of those little bubble icons on your Attribute or Skill cards. When you check off all the dots, you earn bigger and better dice or even new skills or ancillary effects on existing ones!
Sounds neat-oh, right? Well, you’re gonna wanna be slick and clever in choosing how to upgrade yourself as you don’t want to close the door on future possibilities and options.
“How am I supposed to know what those options are?”
Before he could check the book for answers, Betty called for help unloading the groceries that just got delivered. He put the book down and headed for the kitchen saving the upgrading task for later.
When they were done putting things away, Betty had an additional request. “If I gave you the keys to my car, would you be willing to drive me to church?” Betty sounded somewhat forlorn, but that might just have been Robin’s imagination.
“You have church here?” Robin asked, somewhat surprised. Given the description of the devil’s hell-world, he had come to assume this game world was not Judeo-Christian after all, but its architect had clearly been influenced by that mythology. No matter how many times or in how many ways he had asked the Instruction Manual, Robin got no answers as to what this place actually was. The devils offered no cogent thoughts on the matter either. They seemed perfectly content living here claiming it was far less of a struggle than life back in actual Hell.
Betty lightly biffed his arm with the back of one hand. “Of course we have church, silly.” She smiled warmly at him. “If you go put on that nice hat I made for you, I’ll even show you off to my children when we get to Friday service. <> will love you, but I betcha <> will have words about me adopting another stray at my age.”
her “Sure, I’d be happy to take you to church, Betty. Don’t be sad if I take off, though. I’m not big on religion.”
Betty inhaled deeply, “Well, son, you might want to give it a try. The power of prayer is real and it is powerful. You can actually see it made manifest if you go to a good service. Angels might even grace us with their presence if we’re devout enough.”
. dripping from parishioner’s tented hands.
He walked Betty to the garage and helped her into her little sedan. He did not recognize the brand badge on the hood but the car was marked as a Fordolet Paladin — probably pronounced ford-oh-lay like Ford and Chevrolet smooshed together. Another clue that this world definitely had ties to the Earth Robin knew. It seemed like things here were jumbled or re-imagined through a foggy lens. Details were often similar but somewhat off-kilter or varied in some oblique manner to their counterparts on Earth.
As the garage door opened letting in warm sunshine, Robin startled at the sound of dogs yapping and barking on the sidewalk. A slim ginger girl in her twenties was walking three dogs past the house — two of which looked very wolfish, maybe malamute mixes. Her lilac track suit looked almost too warm for the day, especially given the dogs seemed to be walking her and not the other way around.
Robin smiled and waved but was mostly distracted by the bevy of adorable dogs. She walked on — or more accurately, got pulled on — as he got into the driver’s seat. He put the car in reverse and slowly pulled out onto the street following Betty’s directions as to which way to head.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
At the stop sign at the end of the street, Robin checked for oncoming cars but noticed a group of people striding confidently down the sidewalk. In the lead was a red-headed girl in a lavender track suit awfully similar to the dog walker. “Wait, isn’t that the girl we just saw heading the other way with all the dogs?”
Betty looked up slowly from her cell phone where she had been responding to text messages from her children. “What was that, dearie? A dog girl?” She caught sight of the half dozen people, all wearing jogging gear in various shades of purple.
“Awww, I'm a piss-biscuit chowder-floater!” The fact that the dog walker had been colored should have been an immediate tip off. Ferals! These weren’t placid taupe neighbors, they were fucking wereMonsters here to kill him and the devils. “We’ve been found! We need to get home, now!” Robin nearly shrieked which only made Betty panic, red FearResource
Tires screeched as he jammed the brakes. Robin left the car halfway on the sidewalk inches from hitting the mailbox. “Get out of the car, Betty. Run in the house as fast as you can. I’ll distract them.”
The old lady didn’t move. Her fingers clenched the dashboard as she stared down the street at the six-pack of people running down the sidewalk, purple track suits tearing and ripping as their bodies sprouted fur and feathers, faces distorting and stretching into beaks and snouts. A wereFox - the dog walker - lead the group with snarling maw stretched open eliciting yips and howls. Behind the fox was a bushy-tailed wereSkunk, two wereWolves, a wereOwl and a wereIguana.
Robin stumbled out of the driver’s side yelling for Betty to get moving. Her lips were moving but her body stayed rigidly seat-belted in the car. “Get out, get out! Betty, please!”
Wishing he had some sort of area-of-effect spell to toss at the surging pack of monsters, Robin mentally prepared his zingZapd6Essence
He could hear her desperate whispering of a prayer over and over, “Heavenly grace save us, hear my prayer. Heavenly grace save us, hear my prayer. Heavenly grace save us, hear my prayer.”
Frightened and frustrated and about ready to wet his pants, Robin yelled harshly in Betty’s ear, “Get the fuck out and run! We’re about to die!” The pack was twenty feet away and gaining speed, the wereOwl flapping its wings as it rose into the air. Robin hurled a blue ball of sizzling electricity at the bird.
ROBIN’s RESULTS: QUALITY = 24
ESN d6 = 4
zingZap d10 = 7
zingZap d8 = 8
zingZap d8 = 5
With four successes the spell hit the wereOwl directly in the chest knocking it out of the air with a blaring squawk like a shotgunned clay pigeon. The five grounded creatures didn’t so much as lose a slavering stride. “Zebryl, help!” Robin yelled, not caring if he put on a panic-show for the whole neighborhood. Betty’s prayer murmured on leaving Robin with no choice but to stand in between her and the oncoming slaughter.
Robin couldn’t help but flinch and duck as the fox-girl leaped gracefully over his head to land with scratching claws on the roof of the car. “Keep the Mystic
Relieved to hear he wasn’t on the menu, Robin’s panic abated ever so slightly. One of the wereWolves reached out a clawed hand to pull him away from the car clearing the path to Betty. Robin spent his other d6EssencezigZap
ROBIN’s RESULTS: QUALITY = 11
ESN d6 = 1
zingZap d10 = 1
zingZap d8 = 8
zingZap d8 = 1
The terrible dice rolls nearly cost Robin his life. The single success left a scorched mark across the side of the wereWolf’s snout, but the three natural 1’s must have triggered some sort of game penalty. The wolf’s hand spasmed as it gripped Robin’s shoulder. He could feel the claws digging into his flesh, one penetrated deep under his clavicle. He immediately felt blood drench his vest and somehow was aware that his d6Fortituded6BrawnInjured
The wolf carelessly tossed Robin over the red picket fence. Blood left a spattered trail on the sidewalk delineating the path his body took on its trajectory to the lawn. The wereWolf howled in delight as it yanked Betty from the car to hold her up in the sun like a trophy. Her lips still muttered the prayer. Eyes screwed tightly shut, her body went limp as the second wolf closed in, both monsters eager to take a bite.
Dizzyingly, Robin thought his inner ear had gone wonky, but it was from a heavy quietness suddenly filling the atmosphere; a palpable pressure coming from the skyscrapers downtown.
Rumbling through the air to rattle roof shingles and sewer covers, came the thundering roll of a thousand house-sized timpani. Like classical music’s answer to an EDM bass drop, Robin experienced the majestic sonic statement in his bones. Despite the nearly cloudless and sun-bright day, a column of incandescent light pierced the air as if storm clouds had spread open after a downpour.
Descending from on high plummeted a resplendent being bathed in a celestial nimbus, arms held wide, palms open to the heavens, platinum-feathered wings spread toward the horizons. An actinic, pulsing halo of force burst from the angel as it hit the ground accompanied by the boom of a monolithic bass drum. Lycanthropes hurtled through the air in every direction. Robin couldn’t see what happened to Betty. He could barely catch his breath through the pulsing force of the angel’s arrival.
The angel was dark of skin, so dark as to be almost night-like. A metallic arc, perhaps some sort of tattoo, smoothly crossed his face over cheeks and nose to disappear beneath a finely chiseled jaw. Dreadlocks adorned his head and a black leather outfit featuring metallic buckles and decorative ornaments covered his muscular body. His wings flapped once more with a soft feathery rustle despite their metallic gleam. He casually surveyed the scene with no concern on his beatific face.
The wereLizard and one of the wolves did not move at all as colored Resource
Somehow, Betty was alright. She held herself mostly upright with help from the car door. One of the wereWolves was crumpled at her feet but he could see it was still breathing. “Betty, run! Get inside!”
She didn’t move. She stared enraptured at the sight of the mighty angel. He feared she might drop to her knees and worship it right there. His arm hung limply at his side as he stumbled over a portion of the picket fence felled by the angel’s arrival. He got to Betty before she collapsed in prayer and took her arm to pull her bodily toward the house.
“Stop, humans!” The angel’s voice had gravitas and power to it, not unlike an amplified James Earl Jones. “Worship at mine feet for today, I have saved thine lives.”
Robin wanted to resist the almighty compulsion to acquiesce. His d10Willpowerd8Willpower
The wereFox emerged from the shrubs she had been tossed into at the front of Betty’s house. She dashed for the front door only to have it explode in her face as Yarya strode imposingly out from the smoke and flames of the unleashed ward on the portal. She kicked the dead wereFox’s body out of the way and spread her bat-like wings when she had clearance. Her clawed hands ignited with dark red fire.
“Begone, devil,” the angel commanded with dark fanfare. “Your meagre little hostel and impotent fire are no match for me. Do you know who I am?”
Yarya spat onto the lawn leaving a burned patch in the grass. “Sure, you’re that Raffle-leeloo dork from the kiddie band downtown.”
The angel’s puissance actually appeared rattled by Yarya’s cheap insult. Robin suspected this creature was extremely powerful for it had all but crushed six Ferals with nothing more than an insouciant landing maneuver. The angel’s very presence felt as if it elevated everything around it, even vocabulary. Robin had no doubt its worshipers were legion. should
The glowing nimbus about the angel intensified as it focused on Yarya. “I am Seraphim Raflili, First Chair of the Illuminated Transcendency Orchestra, Wielder of the Platinum Blade and Master of the Lost Chord. You would do well to heed me lest I Smite
Yarya sniffed before rubbing her nose with the back of one flaming hand. Her accent shifted to Cockney, “Nah, bruv, yer ‘bout to be shish-kabob.” The flames from one hand spat forth elongating into a hell-blade, a large curved sword engulfed in scorching red heat. The very air about the weapon shimmered and distorted.
The angel, Raflili, stood perfectly unbothered. He raised one gloved hand. A long, straight blade coruscated into existence. Gleaming. Pure light made solid. It appeared so brilliantly keen it could slice air with scalpel-like precision.
Robin couldn’t help the gasp escaping his lungs. This entire scene was like a Raphaelite painting coming to life on Betty’s front lawn. Archangels and demon lords about to battle it out for the souls of humanity, the outcome determining whether this quiet neighborhood would continue to exist. And bizarrely, it was the devil fighting to preserve it. At least Robin hoped so.
He shook his head to clear his thinking. Betty clung to Robin’s good shoulder as he ushered her toward the house away from the impending conflagration. Raflili held his ground and it was, unsurprisingly, Yarya who rashly charged forward with a bold yell. Her wide wings provided a surge of frightening momentum.
The impact of the two blades colliding sent another shockwave down the entire street. Lamplights burst in sparking showers. Roofing material sheared from houses to be tossed blocks away. Windows shattered. Betty screamed. Robin stumbled. They gradually made it to the charred opening where the front door used to be.
Robin pushed Betty inside. “Zebryl! Get Betty somewhere safe.” Not knowing if the incubus heard him, Robin turned around intending to assist Yarya. Laughable as that idea might be, he couldn’t just cower indoors and hope someone else did all the work.
The biblical clash had risen into the air as angel and devil battled. Yarya un-artfully bashed at the dark angel with heavy, slashing strokes of her fiery blade. Raflili serenely countered each swing with one-handed ease, his blade leaving gleaming cuts in the air and momentarily snuffing portions of fire from the hellBlade’s edge. Robin could almost hear a brassy fanfare serving as soundtrack to the fight.
He wasn’t really sure how long he stood there captivated by the duel, but the wereSkunk, now a battered, young, goth woman crawled past him seeking refuge inside Betty’s house. Zebryl emerged to stand next to his still-bleeding shoulder.
“Aren’t you going to help her?” Robin blurted. “The angel’s going to kill her.”
The incubus breathed in with a sharp hiss. “I fear my skill would do little to level the playing field. I’ve barely eaten —,” Robin caught a mysterious, wide-eyed glance from Zebryl before the devil continued, “— and am still spent from setting up all the wards,” he hurriedly finished.
“Two against one is always better odds,” Robin countered desperately. “I don’t want to get smitten —,”
“Smited,” Zebryl corrected.
“Yeah. Smited. Whatever. Just do something before we all become angel food cake!”
A thunderous boom rocked them on their heels. Raflili had struck Yarya a mighty blow to the side of her head with his fist. The angel dove like a hawk, shining sword held forward, spear-like, to plummet it into her heart as she crashed to the ground.
“Yarya!” Zebryl wailed. The incubus lunged into the yard tossing a limp cloth sack at Robin as he ran.
Robin caught the bag with his uninjured arm. About the size of a large garbage bag, it was made of soft red cloth and had the same fluffy white trim as his hat and outfit. He looked at it, incredulous.
It made the same sound his satchel had when he first arrived in this world.
It was getting more insistent by the moment. He looked up in time to see the angelic blade pierce Yarya’s chest as Zebryl leaped at the angel unleashing a torrent of fiery whips at the enemy.
Robin opened the bag to find a small walkie-talkie in the bottom, though it looked more like a piece of mystical tech used to summon Cthulhu. It was unthreatening enough for him to pick it up, press its one button and say, “Um, hello?”
“Robin? Robin! Is that you?” The voice was familiar but his panicked brain was having trouble placing it. “It’s Dana. Robin? Hello? I’ve been trying to reach you for days with this spell. Can you hear me?”
“Uh, yeah.” His mind felt like it was firing on synapsis of pudding. Nothing was making sense as he watched the two devils fight to stay alive. How was his little, autistic cousin calling him? And why right now? Was Betty okay?
“Robin, listen to me. This is important.” Her teenage voice sounded tinny and more than a little desperate. How was she communicating in real sentences? After her disappearance a year ago she had returned to hr family in a mentally fragile state. “I don’t think I can hold this connection for long so you need to do exactly what I say. Do you understand?”
“Dana? Is that really you?”
“Shut the fuck up, old man, and listen to me. I don’t have time to explain, but you need to take this sack over to the angel and offer him a gift. Right now before you get killed.”
Robin wondered if he was being pranked. How did Dana know what was going on?He looked around and saw only the wrecked front yard, a couple dead wereCreatures and a blazing firefight between angel and demons. No, devils. Zebryl was about to get skewered as Yarya crawled away from the fight mewling in pain. “But the bag is empty. Dana, there’s nothing in it.”
“Fucking give the angel a gift and….,” the line went dead with static. Dana’s voice was gone.
Robin peered meekly into the bag. It was empty. His thoughts started to clarify when he heard Zebryl yelp in pain. Without any further consideration, Robin strode out onto the lawn opening the sack’s mouth as wide as it would go. “Raflili, I have a gift for you.” A sickly, drab olive glow emanated from the bag’s interior along with an alien smell, a scent both cloyingly sweet and gaggingly putrid at the same time.
Shockingly, the angel halted.
Zebryl gave up his attack to wobbly flap to his sister.
The angel glanced dismissively at Robin then meaningfully at the bag. He stared at the glowing sack for what felt like minutes — but was probably only a second or three — before snapping his wings wide. Raflili launched himself into the sky disappearing in a flash of brilliance and ringing bells.
Robin plopped down on the lawn impotently holding his sack.