Thread: Across the Veil (NornSavant x Strangefate)

Prologue Concerning the Elland Missive... 50 years ago a mass of portals opened over England, specifically over Sheffield, Mansfield, Nottingham and Derby. And through those portals poured the Fae hosts. Creatures of aspects both beautiful beyond belief and hideous beyond measure. The armed response was treated like sport. The Huntsmen's steeds could exceed the air-force in every way. No weapon was capable of harming the invaders. On the land goblins, redcaps and bogarts tore ground forces apart while the Bean Si had units killing each other and then themselves. The last ditch nuclear detonation meant to kill them at the heart of the portals simply filled the night sky with the image of a great rearing horse of fire. Across the world other portals had opened and other parts of the globe labored under their own invasions, America fought elementals, South America hosted bands of returned ancients, dragons and beasts roamed over Asia and Europe. Hope seemed lost, humanity went to ground. Lightning raids, guerrilla warfare and hidden bases helped humans stay alive and even reclaim some territory in the next several years but it has become an agonizing stalemate. Recently though, in a clear indication of internal strife, some of the Fae tribes violently turned on each other. One of these tribes, designated tribe Elland for its location near Halifax, contacted Quiet Company Freeman 820 a suicide scout unit far forward of the human territories. The Quiet Company linguist reported that the message was a request for an envoy, an emissary, to be sent to parley for possible benefits to the surrounding humans. Whats more, the message was in English. There has never been a report of a Fae speaking English or any other terrestrial language since the invasion. This is to confirm that such an individual has be located and rushed to the Freeman base. All indications are that Quiet Company Freeman 820 will meet the established time window. Information on the volunteer to follow... Chapter 1 The Feast on the Lawn What are we about, Boss? hissed the scout, her face lined with dirt and grime, eyes lost in the dim predawn shadows, lurking in her hard features. Crouching beside her, the bearded man moved his jaw but nothing passed between them. The scout, known only as Forward Five, breathed out slowly a sound of annoyance just for him as they sat motionless in the shallow hole just big enough for the two of them. Around them, the woods began to lighten, the cloudy gray sunrise washing away the ink of night, making the trees bouquets of ashy reds and gold, the floor of the wood a wet patchwork quilt. Is it true? We just giving them away now? breathed Five. Her eyes tracking across the pale tree boles, seeking in the motionless brush between. Shut. whispered the Boss tracking his rheumy eyes to their right flank, careful, so carefully looking across the leaves. They dont even have to hunt us anymore, we just deliver 'em now. Is that it? She hummed and Boss clicked his teeth indicating the conversation was over. A muscle jumped in her jaw, anger, boiling. Beyond their hole nothing moved, in their hole all was quiet, so quiet. They could both hear the approach, like a squirrel, some rodent, a trundling rummage in the leaves and then nothing, another and then silence. Five's knife was up out of the mud now, hovering hidden between the sodden mess of the last four hours and her knees, ready to dart like a snake. The quiet voice sounded like a breeze miles away. Arrival Boss. The messenger splayed out under the leaf cover, a net spiked to sit twelve inches off the forest floor. Twelve hours of leaf fall and it became the forest floor and made a one foot crawlspace for the scouts to their positions, movement invisible, serpents in their own garden. The bearded man gave a tiny nod. Right, switch on three, one, two... and on three the Boss leaned back and slid out of the hole as the new scout slithered in where he had been while Five shrank slightly to give some space. The whole thing was like a wind in the willows and then Boss was gone, silently shifting off toward the base while his relief was squeezed in beside Five. After a few quiet moments of scanning the forest she gave him a knock against his knee asking if he wanted a hand job in field-speak, he gave her a deliberate knock back asking if she wanted one. A few more moments went by, tense and hard between them before they relaxed a little. Each knew the other to be human now, a Fae-touched would have gone for it, they always do. Five lowered her blade back into the mud, putting the snake to bed for a little while longer. ------ Boss slid into the trench and crouched down onto the wooden board marking the beginning of the base, it followed the excavated ravine in a downward slope as the leaf-cover hung above letting in only pale strands of light. Within three steps he was met by Sketch, a thin weed of a boy with a dusting of a wiry dark chin beard. He spoke to the boss softly putting an arm around his shoulders, they walked as one. Shes here boss, preliminary says she fits. Shes in medical right now getting prepped, we are on schedule but only just. he said and Boss stopped at the steps the led down. Only two step but it was the difference between duck walking and walking a dark hall like a human. Are we giving her away Sketch? Boss asked turning hard blue eyes on the thin young man who picked out his meaning right away. He shook his head and responded. They hunt us at will, they can take people whenever they want? They don't need to ask for them. They dont need deliveries. This is something different. I don't know what but something new is going on out there as we are sitting at the end of the spear Boss. The bearded man thought for a moment more with the younger man's arm around his shoulders still. The he nodded settling his face into a mask of resolve and they went down the steps making for medical and history. The medical facility was a series of stacked crates and boxes forming a tight labyrinth to a back examination area. It worked well that the scouts could just pull supplies out of the walls and even better that they could be packed with dangerous items like knives and swords for later use if need be. The Fae just shrugged off more modern weapons but they respected blades. In some way they were willing to be killed by a dagger but couldnt imagine dying to a bullet. Another mystery of the Fae, you can only kill them if they agree to it. Medical was the deepest part of their winding trench and the scouts also called it the last stand. When Boss and Sketch maneuvered through the tight turns of boxes they were alone. All the other scouts were out, they knew what was happening, they were doing their jobs. But it made the base feel like a grave. Sketch flipped a page quietly and stopped. Boss stopped as well asking with silence. Sketch handed him the paper with the volunteer's vitals. Boss looked at it before turning back to the young man, fury clenching at his bearded face. Her mother? They chose someone with a family? Jesus Christ Sketch! Jesus! He said spitting the words. Sketch stepped close, it was an ominous gesture. Theirs was a silent base, no noise, no outcries. Anyone who tried had to be shut down. Even the Boss. This has to go this way Boss, we are out of time. Sketch whispered. Don't drop this ball. This is wrong. Boss said low, like a challenge. Tell that to Forward Three. Sketch said invoking the first scout to give his life to keep the base secret. The first scout to die horribly on his watch. Three long tense heartbeats passed between them and then Boss whipped around like a jackknife making for the examination room. Sketch followed. It had been too much, but this had to happen. He told himself again, it had to happen. The curtain wall was up, a Winnie the Pooh blanket wherein Pooh was fooling about with a jar, Piglett looked concerned and Rabbit seemed to be strolling without a care in the world. Boss sank onto the stool on this side of the curtain and consulted the paper in his rough hands. A moment later the curtain slid back and Forward Eight stepped back to allow the volunteer some room. Eight was a mass of muscle and he was also their primary doctor. Shes good Boss, all measurements in line, no yellow. He mumbled in a sharp Kiwi accent. Boss nodded picking her out of the dimness. Still buttoning her fatigues, what did Eight do? Some sort of mach speed workup no doubt. Medical molestation for the good of mankind. This kid won't be catching any breaks today. She had a tight hairdo, not a decent buzz, what was that? A Pixie cut? Boss sent another silent prayer aloft, God almighty don't let me die to irony. Her eyes were pools of shadow and the togs hung on her like sacks. She was a bit on the skinny side. She had already been told about the silence factor. He motioned and Eight stepped forward ushering her right up to Boss, moving her only inches away, their foreheads nearly touching. It must have seemed so rough. He once again wished in his hardened heart that he could be kind to someone, just once. But no breaks today. Foster? Violet Foster? That you?