Young Sam felt himself falling, falling, falling – it wass as though gravity had been temporarily tuned down then the smell of the peat assaulted him and he felt the bracken on his legs and the wetness of the soil on his skin (skin? What the hell had happened to his scales..?) In the darkness he saw three bright red dots at head height walking towards him and heard the sploshing of footsteps as the creature walked through the wet, boggy land and suddenly the moon came out from behind the clouds and Sam could finally see his tormentor; a hunter, he instinctively knew this was one of many sent to find him…
Why? The sight made him break out in a sweat… What the..? He couldn’t sweat! It had been years since he’d felt wetness on skin… What had happened to him? Slowly, fear rising in his throat, he looked down and saw that he was dressed in normal clothes and his hand, while red and covered in scabs was still human… Wha…? Then he heard a twig break behind him and he turned as a rifle butt smacked into his face and…
Sam woke; he’d fallen off the makeshift bed made out of pallets to the metallic, rough-metal flooring of the container which now was his home, waking him out of his nightmare… Nightmare!?! Oh thank God, it was only a nightmare; for some reason the vision scared him badly. His eyes opened and for a moment he was blinded as he struggled to adjust his vision, he scrambled his hands across his body in terror – checking everything was as it had been when he left it and still in good condition. He pinched himself to make sure he still wasn’t dreaming. He held his hands up towards his face and in almost disbelief he realised that he remained dragonkin. He walked to a nearby bucket of water and splashed his face, and sat with a thunk, just holding his head up with his hands, covering his vision.
However, it didn’t feel like a nightmare or a dream – a vision? Or a memory? – Couldn’t be, he would remember something like that – wouldn’t he? Whatever it was the sight of the three glowing eyes left him filled with dread??? Whatever it was, Sam knew that sleep will be a long time before it came again….
Here sat Sam Meyers, an unpopular geek destined for a life of small mediocrity. Here also sat a Young Wyrmling, the eternal servant with the heart of a dragon. He stood and slammed the side of his home with a loud clang. “It is this duality that will be the downfall of you, Sam.” he muttered. Heart of the dragon, ha! He was supposed to be immune to the pitiful effects of fear: he was supposed to acknowledge the feeling, and ignore it because that’s what dragons did, quite simply. So why did this nightmare shake him so much, to scare him right to the core, to wake him up in the middle of the night like a child? He didn’t have any answers; these contemplation’s only raised additional questions that were not going to be answered this night. One thing for certain was, and Sam knew it to be true, and he would from now on have a deep fear of those terrible three red eyes. He looked at his form again, and shuddered: to become nullified, and to lose this aspect? Sam had only now felt like he had begun to live truly. Nullifying effects: ones that stripped away his wings and armoured flesh, would be truly terrifying indeed, it would be a most grisly, terrible thing.
He tried to rest once again, crawling back into his make-shift nest and tried to settle, tail wrapping around him. As soon as he closed his eyes and tried to relax, the thoughts would swirl and the nightmarish situation would find itself replaying over and over in his mind.
Hapless and helpless, he pulled on his fire-proof trousers (the only piece of costume that offers him modesty), and shut the doors of his container behind him.
He would either need the caring shoulder of a close friend in the dead of the night to advise him, or the wise words of a person of the faith – or possibly a good self-motivational book. Young Sam began his minor quest to seek the comfort of a proper rest. A problem shared, was a problem halved apparently.
Sam walked out of Container Town and thought through his options; Banshee needed her sleep, Chrono had enough on his plate and 3am wasn’t a good time to find an open library or bookshop… He’d heard whispers about accorded territory before… just not what exactly they were supposed to be. Accorded locations included hospitals, holiday resorts, and any kind of pop-culture convention (Due to cosplaying making it hard to tell the difference between friend, foe and bystander apparently).
Where in Wessex could he meet with his own kind? He thought about trying a few pubs or nightclubs at random then he remembered Banshee’s suggestions about getting himself an earpiece and registering with Trouble Alert (with her recommendation of course). In the meantime he had his ruggedised tablet with oversize keys that he used as a mobile and he was registered with HeroNet…
After trudging through the night and wracking his thoughts and consulting several internet search bars, Young Sam conjured a destination. A surprising destination, but a destination none-the-less! He considered calling a charity hero-support response line, but the promise of a frosty pint and the potential of an actual person-to-per–dragon (?) conversation was too appealing to pass up.
As he found himself outside the Endeavour Pub on Park End Street (next to the Royal Wessex Hotel) west of the Thames in Castle District, Wessex – and it was still open… He actually had quite a lot of anxiety and doubt approaching the building.
What kind of pub was still open at 3AM midweek that currently wasn’t doing a lock-in? The doors were large but otherwise normal. Upon entering, Young Sam’s heckles were up and he anticipated the worst, as usual. With much tribulation he pushed through the door expecting the usual whispers and looks of disgust and instead found — total indifference! The pub still had about a dozen punters drinking and chatting, two were even still in costume whispering away in one of the booths. No bar furniture thrown, no taunting no verbal taunts heard that kind of thing. The remarkable indifference was astounding. Within moment it looked like a huge weight on Sam’s shoulders had been lifted, he shifted and rolled his shoulders and went from uptight to positively slouching.
The publican, a grizzled middle-aged man with a limp, looked him up and down and poured him a pint of beer and set it down in front of him… “First one’s on the house… Welcome to the Endeavour, my name’s Jack, Jack Taggart. Do you fully understand the rules of Accord? Let me remind you so there are no misunderstandings later, this is considered neutral ground and no arrests or fights are carried out within the pub and gardens. Here you’ll find criminals as well as heroes here and as long as no crime is committed here then everyone is welcome. Everyone! Understand?”
“Oh, and we’re sensored,” he popped a panel behind the bar and there was the most advanced tech panel he’d ever seen – “This renders all recording devices and cameras inoperable whilst within the pub and gardens itself. If you want to use your tablet then be aware it’s monitored in real-time and you need this code to log in.” He points to a complex 16 hexadecimal code above the bar, “My friend who built this has also fitted a suppressor field that renders all meta-abilities and technology inert but that won’t work with you, will it? Yeah I’m familiar with magic and mystical origins… So don’t be a prat and I won’t be forced to take you down, capuche?”
As the panel dropped back down Sam noticed behind the bar a picture of the Protectors, the frame wrapped in black ribbon. They’d vanished in the Birmingham Incident he’d heard.. “Did you know them?” he asked. Jack nodded, looking very sad and then said,” so what drags you into my pub? Its’ quiet tonight and I’ve a good ear!”
Nodding eagerly and not interrupting or interjecting, Sam took swigs of his pint. He listened intently and observed the technological marvel presented. He wondered internally if the doors were sophisticated enough to handle the general public in some way? Wiping away a frothy mustache, Sam replied.
“Thank you for the drink, it was marvelous and delicious. Another my good man. Do you take card?
Thank you for the warm welcome Jack, yes, wonderful place you have here. How long have you been here? I only found you because of the internet! I did not know the rules of the accord, but I certainly do now! I… haven’t exactly been doing this for a very long time.” and does a downward sweeping motion gesturing about his body and current form, “But have no fear no fights, no arrests, no trouble. You have my vow and my promise. Everyone needs a rest every now and again.” He suddenly began to feel very tired, an excited glean in his lizard-like eyes dulled with suddenly realized tiredness. He began to began the complex 16 digit code above the bar into his devices. “By all means, censor my communications; I have nothing to hide and nobody really to contact! I’m sorry about that suppressor field. I won’t be a prat, I might be annoying sometimes but a pillock I am not, good sir.” he mentioned as he shifted nervously at the idea of being “taken down”, especially considering the person who mentioned it had a significant limp.
Quite frankly, Sam was amazed. He was bedazzled and smitten with the place. He never had a local before but he was certain he had found one. He raised a finger as if to ask a question:
—————————–
Mary was woken suddenly by a loud shudder that shook the whole container. Wha..? Then she remembered that Young Sam had moved into the container next to hers and from the clumping sounds he was awake and pacing… She picked up her earpiece and requested a time check… 3.07am! Insomniac or something else? She’d not be able to get back to sleep now so she started to get dressed as she heard Sam’s door open and him thunder out into the night.
Quickly she changed into Banshee, turned into insubstantial mode and drifted out to watch Sam disappear nto the night, following the light from his tablet/mobile lighting up his face as he wandered quickly away…
He looked – disturbed? Upset? Incontinent? Hard to tell with his features and in this light… He did seem to be heading towards the city centre.
Checking her earpiece she worked out that Sam’s tablet was both GPS and Bluetooth-enabled and can be tracked – good, that gave her a backup as to his direction and distance. She contemplated catching up with him but then realised that there was someone in the shadow who was also following him… Then the figure stepped into the shadow and apparently disappeared. She wandered over and yes, whoever it was had definitely vanished.
A couple more times Mary caught a glimpse of someone in the shadows but each time it disappeared into the shadow.
Following, at first Sam seemed uncertain where he was going but then he heads decisively towards the Endeavour Pub on Park End Street and opening the door he steps inside (and instantly her earpiece announces that all signals from Sam’s ruggedised tablet cum-mobile has ceased broadcasting completely).. She looked around but there was no apparent sign of anyone else around.
Feeling that speed was of the essence Mary remained in gaseous form and infiltrated the pub, the door creaked open slightly and she passed through until she could locate Young Sam and observe what was happening… There was a faint buzz and she felt some sort of energy field in play in the air. Inside the bar Banshee saw Young Sam by the bar, talking to the barkeeper in a quiet voice… Also present were about a dozen people, including two costumed individuals having a quiet chat in one of the booths. Sam turns round just as the mist condensed into Banshee… Caught by surprise, Jack caught his breath and muttered “Halloween already?”
The double-take having proved negative, Banshee relaxed and smoothly transformed into her bag-lady form, strolled up to the bar and gave the barman a disarmingly snaggle-toothed smile before ordering a large Irish malt and then turning to Young Sam with an amused, “Fancy meeting you here!”
Sam said “Banshee! … Mary? … Banshee!” He didn’t attempt to hide his joy at the companionship of his home-giver and ally-in-arms.
The barman looked at Banshee and said “wow! That’s some trick… Not seen you around before, you been to an Accorded place before?” Before Sam could continue he begins to pour Banshee a pint, then stopped himself and instead leant behind the bar and poured her a Whiskey neat and put it down in front of her… “Here’s the tuppenny tour. First one’s always on the house… Name’s Jack Taggart and this is my pub. Do you understand the rules of Accord? This is considered neutral ground and no arrests or fights are carried out within the pub or for that matter in the gardens outback. Here you’ll find villains as well as heroes and as long as no crime is committed here then everyone is welcome. Understand?” He stopped and looked at her for a couple of seconds before continuing “My inhibitor field didn’t work on you so you must be another whose powers are weird… Don’t use them in my establishment or you’ll no longer be welcome..” He turned to Sam, “I’ll leave you to fill your friend(?) in on the rules regarding comms, ok?”
Sam gave her a quick squeeze and cuddle before she begins to consume her drink her shot and orders another. She was beginning to undertake some, apparently, serious drinking. “Oh yes!” remembering the comms spiel; “Your devices will be inactive until you punch in this code above the bar, here. We’re being monitored in real time for everyone’s safety. I’m sure you understand. I’m actually really glad to see you both. I didn’t think I was going to get anywhere with tonight, but you have both given me hope. Perhaps respites’ grasp is not beyond reach.”
“Aye, there’s always hope, Young Sam,” Mary toasted and downed her second shot before ordering another. “And we all need respite now and again; but just what – in particular – did you want to get from tonight’s little adventure, that you could be so doubtful of?” Sam clinked glasses and took a ceremonial swig, not quite finishing his drink. “Thanks Mary, yes, I certainly hope so.”
Sam smiled widely as he listened to Mary and her supportive chatter, he had liked Mary from the time that they met, she reminded him of a fictional kind of fond grandparent – wise and caring, and wicked powerful when they needed to be. Mary was a fairly quiet, but very earnest and trustworthy sort – Sam was very glad to have her working on the side of good.
“I wasn’t looking for anywhere in particular really. What I was looking for was either you or Chrono actually, but considering the time, I thought it mighty improper to bother you. I… I had trouble sleeping. A weak excuse to pester, I know. I had a nightmare, but all things considered, I thought it quite serious and not a light matter.” He sighs. “I just have this awful feeling come over me…”
Before Young Sam could respond further, Mary added, “By the way, d’you know you were followed here – not just by me, I mean. There was someone slipping along behind you, so sneaky even I couldn’t catch ’em out. Any idea who that might have been, or why?”
Sam smile faded and he looked over his shoulder, eyes widened. “I was followed? No. I had absolutely no idea. Are they here? Did they come in? I didn’t smell anything out of the ordinary. Oh god, I really hope it’s not related to my dream. A humanoid figure, shrouded in black, with three red glowing eyes. In my nightmare… they wanted to hurt me.” “He shifted around, looking as if he wanted to explain more but was suspicious of the current company of the pub. The illusion of peace and safety cracked wide by a single utterance.
Mary nodded thoughtfully, “If a nightmare shook you up that much there might well be something more to it. The sleeping mind’s aye a wonderful thing…” She almost-smiled. “Now I didn’t get a close-up look at whoever – or whatever – was tracking you, but I’m pretty sure they didn’t come inside.” She nodded to indicate the bar. “So we’re safe enough in here, if you want to – or can – tell me more. But I’m thinking the only way to get a real crack at it would be for you to walk out of that door and head somewhere, and I’ll trail on behind transparently and see if we can get a lock on it and face it down, if you’d be game for that?”
Sam’s lizard-like form frowned and nodded slowly. “Well, I trust our new friend here – Jack, and he may yet be able to illuminate on some things. I’ll be brief, this may be relevant, and it may not. My sleep was like any other night’s rest, but my dreams soon turned to darkness and from darkness unto nightmare. I fell from a great height and I landed in a bog of some kind. I could not see clearly, but when I could, I found my scales flayed and my features scarred, bloody and human once again. There was a figure, a shadowy formless hunter, indistinguishable except for three red glowing eyes. I’ll never forget those eyes. I was harmed, and I woke up with a start: and well, you know the rest.”
He turned to Jack, still facing Mary and regarding her, “You don’t by chance know of any individuals who wield power and dominion over dreams? I don’t know if this is a memory, or a warning, or teasing? I don’t know what to think about it. I don’t want this to keep happening. The stalker outside might not have anything to do with this.” he sighed.
Jack shrugged, “I’ve heard of a couple of people with dream-related powers. Dream walking I think can also be achieved through a mystical ritual – I know Forte (and pointed towards one of the figures in the picture frame of the Protectors) claimed to have the ability… Let me make some inquiries after I close up and I’ll get back to you. You got a contact number or Trouble Alert account I can use?”
“Um. Yes. I do. I don’t know what it is off the top of my head though, hold on.” He fiddled with his over-sized, rugged smart-table/phone clumsily. Admittedly, he did not entirely know how to find out this information quickly. Sam smiled. “Thanks for the tips and the help, Jack. You don’t have to go out of your way for me though, we’ve only just met! It would show a great wealth of character, however. Thank you. Dream-walking ritual you say? Hm.” he scratched the bottom of his chin in thought. “I may have to look into that at some point. I feel a mission coming on.”
He considered the picture frame of the Protectors: “Inspiring fellows, those. It would be good to either know, or have known some of these individuals.”
Clenching his clawed fist, he patted his thigh as he sat at the bar. Without looking anywhere in particular, he wore a look of grim determination. “Jack, two Tequila Slammers, two Jaeger-bombs and two gold-flake vodka doubles, for Mary and I. If we do anything, even return to rest, we do so with Dutch-courage. Cheers.” He scrambled for his bank card. “After these, I’ll be ready. Where do we go? Do we head back to Container town or did you have somewhere else in mind?”
Jack listened to the order, “Where the fuck do you think you are? Gold Flake Vodka’s crap, ya tosspot…” Muttering under his breath he started pouring drinks starting with straight double vodkas.
“Oh. I. But.” he lifted a finger to begin his protestations and self-defence, but he thought better of it. He will have to spend a night with Jack off-duty and the strange elixir of the gold-leaf detailing its interesting drunkennes-inducing properties. Naturally, he would have to wear thick skin and maintain grace under this new name of “Tosspot.”
Mary listened with interest to what Young Sam (and then Jack) had to say, before shrugging and saying, “I didn’t have any particular destination in mind, just a way to draw out this follower.” She paused, and then said thoughtfully. “Somewhere off and lonely, not towards the Town – just in case things get frusty. But you should look to have a purpose, so maybe as if you were heading towards Chrono’s place? Who knows, perhaps your stalker is just out for a midnight stroll?”
Still fiddling with his bank card, and looking at the Protectors, Sam muttered, “If that is what you think is best, Mary. I trust your council in this and always. When we are done here, soon, I will begin my march towards Chrono’s office and my workplace. Let us out-sleuth the sleuth.” he smiled a toothy, wicked grin that might or might not be entirely genuine or confident.
As Young Sam reached for his drinks, he tried to pick up the glass of vodka and accidentally pulverised it in his hand and to his utter dismay then knocked another glass to the ground, shattering it.
Before he can say a word, Jack burst out laughing, punched him on the shoulder and said, “Aye, Wildcat used to have the same problem” He pointed to a lionlike figure in the photo standing next to a levitating Forte, “Better stick to a tankard from now on” and reaching beneath the bar he pulled out a battered metal tankard with the jegend “La beauté et la bête – maintenant c’est une combinaison!!” engraved on it. Jack looked at it for a second, shook his head slightly then poured one of the Tequila Slammers into it and replaced the shattered Jaeger-bomb, before electing with a shrug to pour that into the litre sized mug as well… “Now can you handle a brush and shovel I wonder?” as he passed both over and pointed towards the shattered glass on the ground. “Don’t take it personally; Wildcat never managed anything as delicate as glasses either…”
Jack relieved the situation of Sam’s shock, surprise and total embarrassment before it rose fully. Sam’s esteem faltered slightly, he should have seen that coming. To lose independence and not be in control of all of life’s faculties was quite a blow at the best of times. It was clear he still had a lot of learning to do before he could ever imagine fully re-integrating with main society.
“Ah. I’m very sorry Jack, but you knew that already. Thank you for the tankard, I promise I will be very careful with it.” He lifted it delicately and twisted it in the light for reading, “La beaut et la bet. Maintenance cest yune combination… I have absolutely no idea what this means. Enlighten me Jack.”
He began sweeping up the glass and mopping the small spill at the bar, relaxing very quickly at the chance to fix his mistake. “I’ll have to meet this Wildcat also, perhaps we could exchange notes?” He released a quick, hearty guffaw.
Jack shugged and a hint of sadness fell upon his countenance, “He was with the other Protectors at the Birmingham Incident – presumably he’s dead… If I remember correctly the inscription means something like Beauty AND the Beast; that’s some combination!?! Was given to Chat Noir, I mean Wildcat by someone after he saved their life – always a charmer… Anyway, no he can’t ‘exchange notes’ but I think he’d like you somehow…
I’ll keep the tankard ready for you and if you really want that gold malarkey – doesn’t make you drunk faster by the way just makes your shit glitter – anyway, if you really like the stuff, I’ll buy a bottle or two in for you.”
Jack handed back his bankcard with the receipt… Glancing casually at it Sam realised that the drinks here cost a hell of a lot more than he’d expected; accord obviously added additional costs to the bill… Oh well!
He quickly gulped down the mix of spirits not lingering on the taste. They did not burn, but they did provide a pleasant kind of warmness and confidence. “Mary, I am ready when you are, ma’am.”
Young Sam left the pub after thanking Jack for his hosting. He left the pub at an easy pace, and feigned walking nonchalantly – making deliberate attempts to pay attention to his surroundings and interesting sights and smells. He decided to specifically walk, not use public transport, from the Endeavour pub in the direction of Chrono’s office in Dragon’s Gate not looking back for Mary.
Mary followed about 50 yards behind Young Sam, in gaseous state. She kept herself open to her senses including her Mystic Sense in hope of locating/identifying/finding clues about anything trailing Young Sam.
The recently upgraded LED street lighting allowed Sam to enjoy the expanse of stars as he walked towards Dragon’s Gate – the streets were empty of people with only the occasional car or night bus streaming passed to break that sense of peace.
Mary felt it first – after about a mile along the main road; they were no longer alone… Where..? Ah, then she saw it highlighted on the rooftops, the shape of a person which watched, waiting for her quarry then vanished into the shadows only to reappear several hundred metres along on a completely separate rooftop. It was the same person she’d felt below – it gave off a sense of foreboding and anger.
Sam seemed undisturbed but his senses remained tense and at the ready. It was when he passed the entrance to Port Meadow estate he felt/sensed a slight stirring in the mystical ether to the rear of him and off to the West. Not close, possibly Mary would catch it also but the ‘taste’ in his mind was foul and rotting – evil at its core. Whatever was watching him did not have his best interests at heart, of that he was sure. Worse it felt as though it was moving. First it felt to his rear and then suddenly it was just ahead of him still off to the West… The same taste each time; the same person he was sure. Then, it vanished…
Mary floated up to roof-top level and tracked ahead as fast as she could, focusing on the same “person”. Were they flying? teleporting? leaping from roof to roof?
At first the figure seemed to jump into a shadow and was gone – getting close, Mary smelled a slight trace of sulphur and, of all things the liquoricey smell of myrrh. The shadow the figure had walked into looked distorted somehow.
Then about 200 metres ahead and apparently unaware of Mary, a figure stepped out of the shadows and apparently looked down on Sam as he splashed through the oily puddles on the street, Sam’s observer seemingly unaware of Mary’s stalking… In the moonlight she could see that the figure was slim and lanky – female? With what looked like two rods poked out of her back – sword hilts? If so, the figure had two blades sheathed on her back. Then, she dived into the rooftop shadows and again reappeared almost instantly on another rooftop, this time 500 metres away, a miniature dark caricature hundreds of metres in front of, and of to the side of Sam. Damn! He, she (?) was fast! What the hell were they up to?
If Mary was to get close to the mysterious figure she needed to see if she could get in front of them. At her flying (make that drifting) speed that wasn’t as easy as she hoped but there was a possibility that they might head for the junction where the paths to Container Town and Dragon’s Gate diverged… If she took that risk and left the road and flew through the edge of the park instead, she might just get there in front of them. Deciding to take the risk, she set off through the trees scaring a young owl in the process.
Minutes later she arrived on the junction she wanted – to the left the road curved down into Port Meadow park and from there to Container Town, to the right the road led towards the Dragon’s Gate and the Jade Garden…
Minutes passed without incident apart from the odd bat or three passing in the darkness… Then the night got darker and for a moment, the stars vanished! A stench of sulphur and liquorice assaulted Banshee’s nostrils and out of the shadows, on the rooftop behind her, stepped a female figure in total body-covering armour and yes, what looked like a pair of swords strapped to her back. Before Mary could do anything, the figure spun round and a silenced bullet flew through her insubstantial body striking a chimney behind her. Before Mary could respond with her terrorizing scream, the figure stepped back into the shadow, the distorted shadow that, for a second, seemed to resemble a jackal’s face and vanished completely….
Although she searched back and forth for some time, there was no trace of the figure… The only thing she was sure of was the symbol on the figures chest – one she’d seen before in a certain hospital room!
Sam’s tablet rang. It was Mary telling him to join him on the rooftop he’d sensed the presence on before disappearing. Once there, Mary retrieved the bullet, what was left of it – it seemed to have shattered into nine separate metallic explosions on impact with the chimney, several shards had even exited the other side of the chimney. Talk about lethal!
There was no other evidence of the assassin’s presence (for surely that’s what it had to have been given the weapons, yet if that was the case why not take Young Sam out on the way to the Endeavour?) other than the smell that clung to the bricks and tiles of the Georgian building they stood upon. Whoever or whatever had been following him was clearly gone.
Mary, now solid, told Sam in detail everything she had seen (and smelt). “When Chrono and I first got here we got called to the Reading Meta-Medical facility, where some bunch called the Power Corps – basically hi-tech thugs for hire so far as I can tell – had bust in and kidnapped a sickly minor Meta-human, name of Angelique St. Marie. She’s still missing and no clues as to why, but while we were there a nurse put us onto a simultaneous kidnap from reading General Hospital, of a normal human – so far as anyone can tell – a deformed teenage, Mallory Brooks, who was taken by a silvery robotic figure from a private ward funded by KessKorp, who specialise in cutting-edge technology, sometimes perhaps dubiously acquired. Thing is, all traces of that kidnap – unlike that of St. Marie – were deleted from all systems and no investigation made, apparently on the orders of our old friend Superintendent Cunningham. Make of that what you will, but we could get no further there, so we went back to Meta-Medical where we did manage to find, in Angelique’s room, a pendant.” At which point she produced the item from one of her many pockets and showed it to Young Sam.
“It’s a symbol of the ancient Egyptian god Setekh, which kind of chimes with that jackal-head impression I had of your stalker. Don’t know if you can sense it, but it has a dark aura for sure.”
Young Sam replied “Yes, I can sense that. Magic most foul.”
Mary continued, “When I first held it I got a kind of glimpse of some source of evil in a dark and ruined factory set amongst ancient hills – looked and felt like some sort of run-down communist-type construction… But I only got a glimpse. Maybe some of this rings bells for you? “
“I have no recollection of any kind of ex-soviet building linked to this artefact. Allow me to hold this trinket, perhaps it will offer me a vision of my own. I cannot be certain of the result as I’m sure my grasp and understanding of magic is not as great as your own. But in any case, I think the excitement’s over for tonight so I suggest we go home together and try to get some sleep before another big day dawns.”
“If you like I could play you a tune or two on my old harp to help set you off on pleasant dreams..? Then we must make sure to fill Chrono in on all that’s happened.”
“I certainly hope so, they always say a young dragon needs his sleep. I’m sure your fine harp won’t be necessary but I may seek you out on a second opinion at some point if I am unable. I think we should alert Chronos to this news, maybe after his upcoming day in court. He certainly has enough on his plate and we should not distract him from his thoughts and preparation. At least we know just a little bit more now than we did before.”
the Endeavour is apparently a traditional pub’ (its’ recommended by CAMBRA) and is run by Jack Taggart, an ex-superhero (though which hero is not commonly known even by those who regularly drink here)
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HeroNet, a social media service similar to Facebook, was the first to publicly respond to the popularity of super-heroes. It was however a commercial venture bought out by Vixen Media who changed the information and tracking function to a social network tracking popular superheroes and even popular super villains and anti-heroes.
HeroNet uses social media to highlight the public (and commercial) side of superheroes (and even popular villains) worldwide. A popular, free (advert-funded) social networking website that allows registered supers to create profiles, upload photos and video, send messages and keep in touch with members of the public and colleagues. Members of the public can elect to follow supers profiles and postings and even post comments as well as create fan pages for their favourites.
Superhero Adventures, UK Style 