Silence on the Hill

[Celeste Darken]

My first goal was to get to the city of my visions. A sticky proposition, as I was nowhere near it and it would take several days to return. Luckily, there was a bus route nearby that would take me right to it. And it was a simple matter to slip inside the outer cargo compartment. No offense, but humans’ senses are so pale in the night.

The trip was ordinary enough, despite my mode of travel. I took it in turns to practice meditation and a “Death Trance,” as Willie had called it when I told him of it in Saginaw. Appearing dead was a simple task for me, but if I turned my thoughts inward, I could reach a state of nigh incognizance. When he had first seen me go through with it, he had tried everything to wake me up, all to no avail. Nor do I remember him trying, so it was even more effective than simply closing my eyes and “playing dead,” since I could still be surprised. The benefits I have discovered so far are twofold: I find meditation much easier to accomplish when first going through with Death Trance, and my awareness of the passage of time is incredibly enhanced. I know the time to the second and can awaken from the Trance when I choose; namely, at sundown. The risks are quite obvious, though. Being incognizant of my surroundings is in and of itself dangerous, but if an enemy happened upon me while in said Trance . . . well. Enough said.

The trip started out well. At the back of the bus with the other luggage, I was content to think through some plans I have been tentatively making and better them. Meditation didn’t come easily. Before I left Saginaw, Sifu Long gave me pointers on what I could do to gain the required harmony between body and mind in order to meditate properly, and I practiced diligently. As I said before, starting the Death Trance first made it easier, and so I often fell into that before meditating. I always kept the Trance regulated to an hour, since I could not go through with it in any span of time that was less. If up to me, it would only be for a second. But that was not possible, so an hour it was.

Silence. Darkness. Complete and utter in their enveloping of the bus. The time was ten o’clock at night, so I opened the small door carefully. The bus was lightless and devoid of life. It should have been to a stop by now, but something inside me told me it wasn’t. I closed the door and investigated. Cautiously, I searched the confines of the empty bus, watching the vacant seats suspiciously. Had the bus broken down?

I decided I didn’t like Death Trance. I also decided I would try meditating the hard way from now on: at least then I know what was going on around me.

The sky above was overcast, drowning out any moonlight and drenching the ensuing area in complete shadow. The bus was stationed at the top of a hill. A small inspection revealed the bus had stalled. It was parked awkwardly on the side of the road, and dozens of footprints were imprinted in the snow. Below at the bottom of the hill and in a deeper impression was a small, rustic town. Had I not felt so uneasy, I might have considered it at least somewhat ordinary. The buildings were made up of log cabins and square edifices. At the far end was a larger building with a rounded roof and a corralled fence about the building’s grounds. All the lights of the town were out.

I followed the footprints down below and into the dead town.

Take the phrase literally.

[GRIM]

I am looking foward to more of your story. Please continue with it when you can.

[Celeste Darken]

I am looking foward to more of your story. Please continue with it when you can.

Well, thank you, Grim. It is always nice to hear that my exploits bring . . . amusement.

The city was dead. Or rather, it was undead. The footprints led deeper into town, but I was deterred from following it into the center by the scent of rotting death and the pack of ghouls that came shuffling across the path. I quickly hid behind a building and erected my defenses against detection. They continued on their way, oblivious to my presence.

I feared for the other passengers on the bus, especially with the Grave Ghoul infestation. Once the patrol of undead was past, I proceeded in my tracking of the humans’ scent. It went around several buildings and then entered into the largest, one I surmised was the City Hall or similar to the town at the farthest south. But from there, I lost the scent. There were too many conflicting smells to pinpoint any of the passengers in particular, so I couldn’t hazard a guess as to whether they were stuck inside the building—captured or otherwise—or if they had made it out for parts unknown. There were still many hours before dawn; I decided I ought to scour the town to understand its landscape and layout. The settlement was small enough I could explore its outer nooks and crannies within two hours. A careful review lengthened the time to one in the morning, but it also gave me a more profound knowledge of the layout of its streets and back alleys. I returned to the City Hall building, confident I had found a site that indeed could house trouble. Some sort of religious house marked the northernmost peak to the cityscape, while the City Hall was the southernmost point. In between these two buildings were a smattering of houses and other personal structures. Each fenceless yard contained a small vegetable garden and a clothesline. There was no evidence of any vehicles anywhere, save the bus at the top of the hill to the north.

And at the westernmost side of the town was a graveyard, it spade-topped, iron fence worn with age and the padlock to the swinging bent in forced entry. My suspicions of foul play were further confirmed upon investigating the graves. The stench of undead was most prevalent here, a sickly sweet smell that was seductive in its tenacity, as thick in the air as the shadows. At the far end, I counted five gaping graves, dispassionately excavated and impassively robbed. In the darkness, they looked like accusatory eyes.

Two more of the graves were partially dug up, their contents not yet despoiled. And yet, I half expected a round of zombies to come pushing out of the earth. But for all that, it was not fear I felt exude from the silent cemetery, but sadness. I couldn’t just leave the graveyard in this state of disarray, with graves unearthed, the fenced ruined, and the branches to dead, leafless trees reaching inside as though to reclaim their dead. I found a brace of shovels in a small shack and set to work, filling the graves that had not yet been deprived of their contents and gathering the earth about for those empty graves I would try to retrieve the bodies for.

Then I crept back toward the township, the shadows enveloping me as a lover. I was not one to fear the night, nor its mysterious faces. The sadness I felt at the graveyard was replaced with anger and the thoughts of justice. The thick cloud cover hid stars and moon, hid the shame in the graveyard. Now was the time to track the miscreant who had done this misdeed. Unlike Konthaak, I am not one to think zombies, ghouls, and their ilk are neutral or innocent. They are here to feed mindlessly, and will do so and more heinous crimes against people that cannot be justified. They steal the bodies of loved ones and devour them; they would do so in front of us, they would do so in secret. They will do whatever is most convenient for them to get away with. That is not the actions of a neutral, innocent creature. That is the actions of a malicious predator.

I returned to the City Hall. Even at an end of the town, the place seemed to be the best place into the city. The building in the midst of everything was small, squat, partially underground, and smelled of grain: some sort of food storage, was my guess. I made my way to the back of the building, where many arches and pillars formed a ridge work of alcoves of sorts. I was just preparing to enter one which offered cover from the peeping moonlight when a gigantic shadow emerged from it first, ambling crookedly like a block of stone. I leaped backward with the speed of thought, and I was satisfied when the brute continued on its way, oblivious to my presence. I watched the creature in agitation, debating on whether it was the master of the zombies or here to take advantage of their thieving ways. There have been enough encounters and related incidents with this creature on the boards to render it almost impossible to misidentify: it was a Dybbuk.

[GRIM]

A town of The Undead, how could such a place exist for so long without detection. Thus far by your tale, you already have shown much more restraint than I would have.
I am curious to see how you dispatched these abominations.

[Kolya]

Yea, an interesting tale that you tell Celeste.

As for towns of undeed, it is amazing what goes unnoticed, sometimes right under our noses...

[AdamaGeist]

It's easy to go undetected, if your town remains out of the way. The right agencies diverting attention, and all you have to worry about is mail trucks coming in.

I wish to hear this tale as well, Celeste. I had gotten worried over your disapearance, as I assume others have.

[Ron Caliburn]

I wish I'd know about that one.

I need something to do with my time right now.

I swear the shadows in my place are laughing at me.

[Holister]

I swear the shadows in my place are laughing at me.

Er Ron, you're startin' to sound, well, a little crazy. I know that E.R. has ya spooked, but you sure you're ok?

[Ron Caliburn]

I've sounded a little crazy for years.

This is just another ghost hunt . . . even if the ghost is me.

[Kolya]

Holister, if only you were in Cypress Hill...

My nightmares have been a bit up lately, too. Any word on the protective mojo?

[Celeste Darken]

I wish I'd know about that one.

I'm not so sure you could have helped. But maybe they could have helped you. Here's what I mean:


The creature shuffled through the darkness like the grotesque, hairless ape it resembled, dragging its massive forepaws behind it like the stereotyped Neanderthal. I darted up the wall and to the roof, following the unsightly abomination intently. It had not gone the length of the building when it stopped and lifted its blunt snout, sniffing the air intently. I had all my defenses in place, physical and psychic, and yet it sensed something amiss. I took the opportunity presented by its hesitation to change position, sidling from the roof to the top of the wall, crawling into range behind it. It continued to snuffle, but was unable to detect the anomaly that was me.

“I sense you,” it rasped in a voice that grated like a chain over stone. “Meddle not in my affairs, or I will tear you apart. This will be my territory.”

I revealed my fangs in a smirk, but kept silent and out of its sight, maneuvering myself into position. If it could talk, it could reason. If it could reason, it would reveal its plans to me. Torture had been one of the many skills Boaz had called me to do. While I had never used the skill since regaining my will and would never use it again on humans, guilty or otherwise, I would not hesitate to utilize everything I remembered about torture’s finer points on this beast.

Crouching like a panther and carefully weighing my next move for optimum precision, I waited while it twisted clumsily, trying unsuccessfully to unmask my presence. I kept still as it rounded about, it heavy limbs furrowing the earth as it rotated in a twisted circle. Its dim-sighted eyes blinked heavily as a sliver of a moonbeam was unveiled, the clouds slowly stirring. Even with night vision superior to that of humans’ sight, the creature’s eyes roved over me and beyond, incapable of seeing the danger twelve feet away, my abilities over invisibility in full usage.

I sprang from the wall straight for its neck. It spun about with remarkable prowess for having such bulk. In that split moment before striking, I saw the surprise and anger in its beady eyes. It may not have seen me, but it had been expecting an attack. A massive right limb swung for me, hoping to swat me away in mid-leap.

That’s when the lights flared all around us. I dropped to the ground, unconscious

_______________________________________________________________________________________


I opened my eyes. I was on my back, my arms and hands crossed over my bosom. Above me, a young woman was looking down at me intently.

“She’s waking up, Revered Ones,” she jumped back.

I sat up as speedily as I could, taking in my surroundings quickly. I was on a comfortable bed; the room I was in was large and nearly bare, whitewashed and spotlessly clean. Overhead, a chandelier of candles emitted a large light. Beyond the bed I sat in, a circle made of blue chalk was drawn, and beyond that, about two dozen men and women, all dressed in velvet robes of cream. Behind them, I could see the shadows of others watching anxiously.

“Where am I?” I asked suspiciously. “Who are you? What happened back there?”

“You are in Oldsalem,” one of the older men said, stepping up and bowing politely. “I am Josephus, Town Elder. Those behind me in robes are the Council of that town. I am guessing, by your last question, you infer to the incident at the City Hall. To put it simply, you became aggressive.”

He waited with his hands folded in his robes, my questions answered. The silence stretched on. Only the young woman showed any other emotion beyond that of mild curiosity. But hers was simply a greater curiosity than that of her peers. Her clothes were simple and looked homespun, something that hadn’t been seen in department stores since the early 1900’s.

“So what happens now?” I asked guardedly, as it seemed they would only speak when spoken to. “What will you do with me? Are you in league with the Dybbuk?”

“You will leave our town,” he shrugged. “We will do nothing to you. The Dybbuk is no ally of ours. Indeed, it is an abomination of nature.”

“I was trying to stop it,” I exclaimed. “You must believe me.”

“Oh, we believe you are not here to commit evil,” he assured me. “Your kindhearted deed at the cemetery was proof of that.”

“What happened to it? The Dybbuk?”

“As for the Dybbuk itself,” the old man said delicately, “its fate shall be decided when it awakens.”

“I shall kill it for you,” I offered. “I am not here to cause your community harm. I will destroy it and the ghouls and leave.”

Several of the women gasped, and the Town Elder and Counselors frowned as one; Josephus shook his head sternly. “No, you will not. The Dybbuk and the Grave Ghouls will have sanctuary as long as they remain here within Oldsalem’s borders.”

His vehemence dumbstruck me, and from the back, I heard a little girl hiss, “She can’t hurt Bisquick and the Muddy Men! She won’t, right, Mommy?”

“Of course not, sweetheart,” the mother soothed.

“I don’t understand,” I finally found my tongue. “I thought you said you weren’t helping the Dybbuk.”

“We are not,” he said solemnly. “We of the Brotherhood of Peace live without violence. Every full moon, we enact the Spell of Legend, Sanctuary. It keeps our town safe. None can show hostile actions while within its radius of influence.”

“But the Dybbuk . . .” I protested.

“Will not harm us, nor did harm us,” he spoke when my failed sentence faltered into silence. “Certainly it thought so, but it did not. We never felt threatened. Yes, it dug up our graves. Yes, it tried to desecrate our temple. But it did not harm any of us.”

“But all those Ghouls . . . there were dozens . . .”

“They are constrained to walk the earth at every full moon; those like the ‘Muddy Men’ have chosen to stay, and they feed periodically upon the rancid meat of dead creatures near here. Other Ghouls will also come. But most will leave as the moon wanes. It has always been this way.”

“And the people on bus . . .?”

“Moved on their way. We told them we could offer food and shelter, but nothing else. We live without technology, so we could not help them when their vehicle broke down, we directed them to the nearest city, where they could get mechanical aid and parts for their contraption. They will be back within the morning. You may hide within once more, and we shall not reveal your presence to them. You are a vampire of good deeds, though the term seems contradictory.”

“And I cannot stay, while the Ghouls and the Dybbuk can, because of what reason?”

“Because you are a vampire,” the old man said without rancor. “Your very existence is anathema to our way of life. Our magic will incapacitate you whenever you try to feed within our borders, whether they are willing or not. That is also why we do not live by the standards of Time, why we do not use technology.”

“I see,” I said, and understood. Apparently, the magic couldn’t differentiate between the “good” pain of lifesaving surgery.

“You may stay as long as you can withstand our magic,” the Elder offered. “We will give you any aid we can. But in the end, you must leave. Is this agreeable to you?”

It seems I wasn't being given a choice. Still no sigh came, though I tried. Instead, I nodded mutely.

[Razor]

Holy hell.. Somebody can actually cast Sanctuary?!?! I thought that was a myth! What the hell! My first teacher told me about some of the lost spells. I thought he was a bit loony... but... omg!

[Celeste Darken]

Are you familiar with it, Razor? What are its . . . capabilities?

[Ron Caliburn]

It seems to have the capability of protecting monsters from harm.

I don't like it.

I wonder if I could zap one of those things from far enough outside of town to avoid being interrupted?

[Razor]

Well, I believe it has a one mile radius, and is supposed to render anyone unconcious that intends any sort of harm to another. Actually, it doesn't kick in, until they go to do it, but.. whatever. Will and intent... two main keys I always say.

Thats about all I know of it really, not until I go back over my notes.

[Shang Li]

Mr. Caliburn - The Embrace of Buddha is a double edged sword. It not only protects them from harm (only by rendering the one that would cause it unconcious) it also keeps one from doing harm.

Ms. Darken - I would know the location of this place, that I may offer them my aid and blessing. I would also like to meet the one who cast such a mighty blessing. (I have only seen the like once in my 80 years, during my travels in Tibet)

[Celeste Darken]

It seems a great deal has happened during my absence. While this portion of my travels is long past, it was a good turn of events I would care to repeat. The rest, thus far, has been nothing but research. Good luck to those on Mr. Holister’s case.

Oldsalem was a strange place, left behind by Time and weathering its bypassing influence like a mountain face. I chose to stay because the Dybbuk did so as well. Unfortunately, waiting was not a battle I could win. I trusted the Town Elder on his word about the Ghouls and the inability to show any type of aggression. The fact was cemented by the Dybbuk itself, though it learned its lesson by its third attempt to attack a villager. Each time, it was met with swinging lights spinning about its body, and then it would sink to the ground, unconscious. Again, my offers to help remove it were politely declined. The villagers would not leave the range of the Spell of Legend. They moved the creature to a small cabin in the corner and left it to regain consciousness. Likewise, any Ghouls that fought over the dead of the exhumed graves were incapacitated and moved. The villagers reburied their ancestors without fuss.

I thought them fools. But they were, for all intents and purposes, kept safe by the magic. My warnings went unheeded, and they went about their business, living a lifestyle without technology. The first night was spent getting to know the children.

But let me be specific here: I did not seek them out. The children came to me, followed by the band of Grave Ghouls like silent, shuffling, noxious-smelling puppies. Fascinated by a vampire and in nowise afraid of me, they pounded me with questions and observations that only children can ask.

And they asked me to play with them! I learned all their names and the names of all the villagers, not out of any inquiry of mine, but because they insisted on telling me so. The Ghouls also had names: Bisquick and the Muddy Men. Bisquick was the so-called leader of the ghastly crew: as pale as flour and as thin as a starved corpse. The others were all darker and in various states of disrepair, all smelling like the rotting corpses they were. The children were kind to me, and they begged me not to leave. I acquiesced to their demands, and it was there that I broken down. They treated me as one of their own. They didn’t shudder at my undead chill. I had, for the moment, forgotten myself and felt peace for the first time in many years. I cherished it while I could, for I knew it couldn’t last. I played with the children; the Town Hall was large and secured against the sunlight for my benefit. I took a turn churning cream into butter; I split logs they brought in minutes, a feat that would have taken the villagers days.

I took shelter with them during the coming of dawn, the thought of doing anything else didn’t even cross my mind. I hardly listened as the passengers from the bus returned with tow truck and mechanics. I didn’t listen as they went to the bus and repaired it.

And they left without me.

But it couldn’t last. I could not stay too long; nor did I have any wish to test my willpower against the pangs of bloodlust that would surely come. I told Josephus, the Supreme Elder, my intentions to leave, and he nodded soberly.

“You have been an unparalleled asset to us we have never know before, even in a day and a half, Celeste Darken,” he informed me. “And we all sense something different about you. The Dybbuk would harm us if it could, that is evident. The Grave Ghouls remain because we can feed them when our animals die; but that would surely change if our vigilance was ever broken. I sense much troubles you. You would leave us even if you could stay indefinitely?”

“Yes,” I admitted uneasily. “There are things that I must do. Things that may redeem me.” I considered telling him about the vision I had had while in the Town Hall, a dream quite unlike the memories that had first sent me on my expedition. But I decided not to speak of it.

He nodded understandingly, placing his hand on my shoulder and not flinching in the slightest. “Then go, Celeste. Face your demons, those that torment you both from the outside and from within. And know this, too: you are welcome here, as no vampire ever has been before. I hope you find peace, Celeste.”

I nodded and put my hand over his. “I would make two promises,” I declared.

“Oh?”

“My first promise would be that I shall return some night,” I said. “Though I cannot choose a favorite child, I have grown very fond of Emmanuel.”

The Supreme Elder smiled. “He does have that effect on visitors. And what is your second promise?”

“This is a town of peace and calmness,” I spoke the words carefully. “It has a natural beauty untouched by time and the cares of the world. I would hate to see it ruined by those who would treat it as some sideshow. Therefore, I promise to not reveal its location to others. Those that would treat it with respect will find it, of that I am certain.”

He was genuinely touched. “Thank you.”

Reluctantly, I left the perimeter of the sanctuary at the start of the second night, the Dybbuk sneering at me as I left, the children and the Muddy Men standing at the edge, waving goodbye dolefully.

It was little more than an hour later that I paused in my journey. I sniffed the air and invoked my psionics ability of Presence Sense.

I wasn’t alone.

I hid among the trees and waited. In a few moments, my tail could be seen carefully picking her way through the foliage. “Celeste?” she called, looking in my direction.

“Felicia,” I said quietly, recognizing the young woman who had been my watcher when I awoke from the lights. “You should not be here. You are outside the limits of the Spell. It is dangerous here at night. The Dybbuk . . .”

“It’s dangerous everywhere, day or night,” she shrugged. “Besides, we have all been trained in magic. If it shows up, it’ll get a face full of my Globe of Daylight spell. Heard of it?”

I nodded; all too well. “Why are you here?” I asked. “Does Josephus know you’re out here?”

“I’m here to offer you my blood,” she made no attempts to beat around the bush, though she ignored my second question. “Just for tonight, you understand. I’m not going to ask to follow you, and I’m not going too, either. I’m not ready to leave Sanctuary, yet. But I thought you might want some nourishment before you go.”

I carefully regarded her, cautiously probed my feelings on the matter. Then I nodded. “Thank you.”

Felicia shivered and held her breath when I took her hand, steeling herself for pain that she probably had not felt for many years. Her intake of breath was sharp when I bit into a vein, but she didn’t cry out during my careful drinking.

“I’ll be all right,” she assured me, clapping her hand over her bleeding wrist. “Honest.” I nodded when I felt a swell of magic, and when she removed her hand, her forearm was whole and undamaged.

We stared at each other for several moments, before she announced she had better return before she was missed. I stood still and watched her go, contemplating matters. There was a silence for several minutes.

I smiled when a keen, golden light suddenly erupted in the night, hanging in the tree trunks like a floating chandelier, eliciting a rasping, throaty shriek.

Then I went on my way.

[GRIM]

Sanctuary....Could such a place exist. The tale you tel my nocturnal goddess is a fascinating one. A place where you were excepted, where humans did not spurn your presence and tremble at the sight of you. Those...humans.. they do not seem to be like others.
Could even a monster such as I find peace there?

[Razor]

So it seems Sanctuary earns its name in more ways than one.

I truly do hope you are able to return sometime Celeste. In truth, I wish we all had such a place that was as well protected and as much of a sanctuary.

[Bert_the_Turtle]

Amazing. I don't think I'd like it though, I spent enough time hiding from the world.

[AdamaGeist]

Celeste, I would like to request the location of the Sanctuary. The spell they have set up to defend their home grounds is somthing that most mages dream of knowing, including myself.

I would understand if you choose not to trust me with this knowledge, and I don't wish for you to share it publicly... There are more than one person from this board who I do not trust with that knowledge. But I would like to be able to find it for myself.

Thank you.

-Adama

[Ron Caliburn]

The fools. Remind me of my folks. Hiding, bunkering up, letting the evils of the world have their way ...


The cowards just can't stand to step up and do whats right.


As soon as I can get the Not Me taken care of . . . I'll let you all se what's what.

[Celeste Darken]

I’m not saying that I disagree with you, Ron. But I cannot judge them, nor will I try. Despite our lack of commonality, they gave me something that I cannot cast aside: peace; even for one night, it is a gift I will treasure always. They gave me a sense of belonging, and a sense that someday, as remote as it sounds, there is a possibility that I can be accepted.

For that, I will cap my reservations. So, you keep toting your guns, Mr. Caliburn, and I’ll keep breaking the necks of evil. We’ll both see our enemies discorporate. Meanwhile, let the Brotherhood of Peace alone. You and I do what we think is right; we use our skills to Humanity’s benefit.

They do the same.

[Ron Caliburn]

They don't.

They just are bunkering up.

If they were serious about helping humanity they would help by making sure such protection extended to the entire world.

They are hiding, pure and simple.

The assauge their consciences by "helping" those that manage to find thir hiding place.

[Celeste Darken]

I am not going to argue with you, Ron. They helped me, I help Humanity. I will leave it at that. Rather like Huntress’s “vampires suck” comment: take it as you will. But I have spoken my piece and given my views. Good night to it.

[KonThaak]

I apologize for taking so long to read and reply to this thread. Celeste is a poet, in her own right, and while I do usually enjoy the language she uses, the way she writes at great length, between 12 hour days at an exhausting job and major disasters here in the forum, I haven't had time to keep up with this.

Sanctuary... Very interesting. The druids of old used an almost identical spell they used during their celebrations. Their version held two flaws... One, it lasted only for a few days at a time. Two, it was very expensive to maintain. Three, it used the energy of the fae, so soldiers dressed in ferrous armors wielding ferrous swords broke the spell.

As with law, there are loopholes in every spell. I can appreciate their views about their place in the world, but it will not last forever, I fear.

I will say this... Like the Ahmish, I'm sure we would disagree on a great many things...but also like the Ahmish, I wholeheartedly respect the tenacity to the Old Ways, and to the earth.

Not everyone with Power is required to help us with our fight. It will come to them eventually, I fear, but until then, may peace be theirs.

[GRIM]

If such a place was to exist, would they accept me? I doubt that they would. I would like to have vistited this place, to know what it would be like to find peace at least once.

AdamaGeist is right, I am a dog who has only broken free of its chain.
How could I think that I could find peace. My nocturnal goddess I go to fight in your name. To avenge the attrocities this man Shepard blames you of. My only regret is that we have never met. I would have to like to have seen the face of my goddess before....

My goddess is I am victorious, I shall deliver the head of this human to rest at your feet. If I am to die, then know I would do so a thousand times over if it were to be in your name.

Find your piece my nocturnal goddess.

[Greydawn]

Mr. Grim know that you do not go alone.