The Keep of the Thirteenth Hour

The Alternate Diaries of Cordelia Chan


My Condo : Sacramento : 15th January 2004

It's seems I've been successful in disuading the local lawless elements, and the more disreputable members of the local police from bothing us as its been a quiet day, which is just as well after last night.

I had been out on patrol as usual and was about to return home, when I heard a clock strike and the world froze; well everything except me that is.

It is interesting, if somewhat disconcerting to walk past a flame to see it in hues of grey, fixed in space rather than flickering in the breeze. If the speculation amongst the rest of the family is correct, and Brand is on the loose, and this is his doing, then I'm not sure how long we can survive.

I'm not sure how long the world remained frozen as my what my time sense told me didn't make sense, but I guess I'd covered another three of four miles by the time I heard the striking clock again. I can't be sure but it sounded like it struck thirteen times, which isn't possible.

My Condo : Sacramento : 16th January 2004

I nearly didn't write anything tonight, but I've got into the habit, and the pain killers are now starting to work.

Perhaps I should rephrase that, I nearly wasn't here to write this tonight.

It all started about 11:45 last night. I'd been out early to collect some fresh supplies, and had been cut off by a hoard of demons that seemed to appear from no where. I'd downed a couple of them with the plasma rifle, but had been forced to retreat and take a roundabout route back to the condo.

As I neared the house I knew something was wrong, and barely avoided the leap of the first demon. As I continued to roll, I spotted two more, and was able to forestall their charge with a blast from the rifle; although not without blowing a hole in the condo wall.

The fourth one, I didn't see until it was too late, and could do little more than roll with the impact of it's attack. I felt the heat as it absorbed the point blank plasma blast but its claws did little more than scratch my armour.

I shrugged the crisped body off and "blinked" into the hole I'd made, dropping the first demon that had attacked me with another Plasma blast and inflicting more damage on the condo. I checked the magazine,two shots left. As I fired again, catching one of the pair who'd charged me, there was a crashing sound from the back of the condo.

I'd got to the living room about the same time as they did, catching one dead center with the remaining plasma blast. As he sailed through the air, igniting broken furniture the world went gray and my troubles really began.

I'm not sure which of us was more surprised, but I managed to recover first, and leapt over the now frozen demon, as the razor edged tail of this new monstrosity swished though the air I'd just vacated. What ever it was, this demon was something completely new.

Unlike every thing else in this grey world, it was coloured, even if the colours were dull like everything else. Not only was it couloured but it was covered in bone spikes and ridges. It had long talons on its hand and clawed feet, and a wicked tail tipped in what appered to be a blade. They all looked exceedingly sharp.

As I dropped the plasma rifle to the floor and drew my sword the tail struck again splitting the frozen demon I was using for cover like a log. I blinked in behind the new arrival and struck.

It is considered a virtue to know when you're out of your depth, and my years of training and the last six month in particular had taught me to recognise all the signs. The sword barely bit into it's hide and it turned clubbing me with its shoulder. I knew then that I was out of mine.

For the next few minutes I did little more than retreat and stay out of its way. It seemed to speak several times attempting to use words of power, and I found myself having to ignore wracking pains, attempts to disrupt my concentration, and waves of fear.

As its mental assaults appeared to be having little affect on me it gave up and set about trying physically rip me apart. I tried the blink attack again, and was able to hamstring it, taking a slash to my left side in the process, although I guessed of the two of us it had come off worse. We settled to circling each other again, and I now realised it was waiting for me to tire. With this realization came an idea, it was time to determine how good it was at reading exactly how tired I was. As the minutes passed I let it close on me, slowed my responses to its attacks, and took a number of minor scratches on the armour. As it scored more hits it's confidence grew and it's guard dropped.

When its killing attack came it did so with lightening speed, for it spoke a word different from those it had used previously. Had I not been prepared, its tail would have gutted me, as it was it slashed down my left leg, cleaving the armour, and striking to the bone. The pain was excruciating, and I was barely able to stay conscious. Then I was hit, as if by a truck, and I felt the sword bite deep, as it was wrenched from my faltering grip. There was a second impact, this time with the floor, and I was momentarily winded. I fought the fogginess enveloping me, and tried to do something about staunching the blood running down my leg. Whilst the wound was severe, it was not immediately life threatening, the tail having missed the artery. I focused and slowed the bleeding to a trickle.

The world was still gray, when I returned my attention to my surroundings. A couple of feet away I could see the point of the sword protruding from the back of the creature. I had been intending to strike through the neck, but the slash from the tail had caused me to waver. I counted my self lucky to have managed a killing blow. I dragged myself over to the corpse, for I was unable to put any weight on my leg, and with some effort managed to roll it onto its side. I was then able to pull against my good leg and extract the sword. With the sword back in the scabbard, I set about retrieving the plasma rifle.

I had barely changed the clip when the world returned to full colour, and I was showered with blood as the two halves of the demon collapsed to the floor. At least I only had one still to deal with, even if I could now feel the heat from the fires that the plasma balls had started.

The problem with sitting on the floor is that your view is limited and you can't shoot as accurately, thus it took me two attempts to nail the remaining demon. Exhausted, I slithered down the steps to the hurricane shelter.

My Condo : Sacramento : 17th January 2004

Uninvited Guests

I woke at midday, much to the consternation of Vialle, who'd had to struggle around the cramped shelter, even though I suspected she knew exactly where every thing was by now. In the cold light of day I could see and feel how lucky I had been last night. My leg was stiff, and sore, and it took a good half hour of trance meditation, to bring it into a reasonably mobile state. Now able to stand I found the first aid kit and changed the bandages, giving Vialle a blow by blow account of the my nights activities. The armour I had been wearing was in severe need of repair, something that would have to wait. I was therefore forced to dig out the spare suit.

With armour donned, I went upstairs to see what was left of the condo. It was not as bad as I had feared, and still offered a degree of cover and protection. I pulled the binoculars and scanned the neighborhood. Next door was still in reasonable condition, although Marcie had long since moved to Heather's, as had a number of the other Illiarri. Mikato failed to come bounding in greeting so I assumed he was off somewhere doing what ever it was he was doing these days. Nothing untoward attracted my attention and I returned to the confines of the shelter.

Based on my experiences of the previous two nights, I chose to remain in the shelter, on the basis that if the door was closed and frozen nothing would be able to get in. I hadn't banked upon the appearance of a Logrus tendril, let alone one which seemed to be aimed at me. I'd learnt the hard way the use of pattern as a defense and assembled it as rapidly as possible. What Random had failed to elucidate on all those months ago was what happens when a Logrus Tendril contacts the Pattern. The blue flash, and yes both the tendril and the explosion had colour in the gray world, as the tendril hit the pattern before me, slammed me across the shelter and into the wall, disrupting both, and driving a mental pile driver through my brain.

It was twenty minutes or so later, close to what I estimated was the end of the grey time, that I felt the power surge again. This time there were four tendrils, each tendril bearing a person. As I readied the pattern shield and the plasma rifle, which I hoped I'd not have to use as Vialle wasn't in armour, the tendrils dropped their cargo, and winked out. If I'd arranged it mself I couldn't have done better. No sooner had they winked out than the world resolved itself into its normal state.

The pattern has many uses and each use requires a subtly different structure. I had chosen to build the pattern to form a physical defense rather than a analytical lens, which was what I actually required at this juncture, but given there were four of them all of unknown capabilities I was loath to lose its protection at this juncture. 

They were indeed a strange set. A man in a leather jerkin wearing a cloth skirt, a female in <> clutching a dog and a strange yellow something, a guy in some sort of military uniform complete with pack, and another individual who appeared to be in some form of battledress. Strangely enough he reminded me of a few of the mages I had seen knocking about Shiftsville. Maintaining both the pattern and the threat of the rifle I set about trying to ascertain who they were.

The well tanned guy in the strange leather spoke first. I didn't recognise the language he spoke in, not that it matters, the Pattern inherently translates his words into concepts I'm familiar with. He said he was a Greek by the name of Isocrates from the the City of Athens. I thought it unlikely given his dress. The other 3 babbled obviously not understanding him although they obviously understood my responses. The female, speaking in fluent Japanese, identified herself as Kohaku. The other two then joined in both speaking different shadow dialects of English. The military dude is called Fane, and the other one Allanon Silver, as in the metal apparently.

They all insisted that they were yanked by the purple tentacles that deposited them here from their home shadows to a tower where an entity that could transform into this tentacle mass and calling itself Deidre had gathered them together to repair the pattern buy getting a chunk of the Serpents Eye from the unicorn, and defeat Brand (who also wasn't dead after his fall into the Abyss) and his cohort Rodian, whoever, or whatever, that may be.

Now over the last six months I've run into so interesting situations, encountered some strange people, and heard some fanciful tails, but strangely enough the fact that these four individuals from at least two different shadows all were under the same delusion meant there had to be some element of truth here. They also hadn't made any hostile moves. I  lowered the rifle and let the pattern fade, not that any of them appeared to notice.

Things then turned a little interesting, the Greek, who seems to have elected himself leader, wanted to know how he could get back home to save his precious Athens. When I suggested he'd come to the wrong place he insisted this Deidre said I could help. When I pressed him he said he'd been plucked from the sea after a volcanic eruption, sort of out of the fire and into the frying pan, except he completely didn't understand the mis-quote. My removing my helmet also completely astonished him. 

By this point a combination of lack of sleep, and my Logrus headache were really starting to get to me, and what I really wanted to do was go to sleep. The disparate group were trying to themselves out, although the Greek didn't appear to be able to cope with the simplest of things, like coffee, a percolator, or dried and tinned food. At some point between me getting out of my armour and crawling into bed, one of them, the female I think judging by the remarks when she got out, decided to take a shower. She'd also examined my discarded suit of armour, but I don't think either she or Fane appreciated the force required to split it apart in the way it had been.


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