Alan Loewen: Author, Storyteller, Dreamer: September 2020

Wednesday, September 30, 2020

A Wisp of a Cloud (Inktober, Friday, October 2)

For Inktober, October 2, 2020. Prompt word: "wisp." Tuckerization: Ryan Laughman

A Wisp of a Cloud

by Alan Loewen

Ryan watched the tree line for the cloud. It was hot, muggy, and windless, but he had learned the day before that the cloud moved independently of the wind, and yesterday’s carnage had proved it. Around him lay the ruins of an old automotive junkyard in the middle of nowhere. Behind him lay the still form of a middle-aged man securely tied to an old, rusted carcass of a 1973 Pinto.

With a last look at the horizon, Ryan spun about and knelt before the man. Firmly, Ryan slapped his cheeks. “Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey,” he taunted.

With a groan, the man stirred and shook his head. Suddenly, his eyes widened in surprise, and began fighting his bonds.

“Sorry, Mr. Pyre, but when I tie a knot, it stays tied.”

Pyre glared at Ryan. “So you survived yesterday?” he asked.

“Barely,” Ryan sneered. “Two of my work crew didn’t.” He stood and dusted off the knees of his jeans. “All this because I shut down your little scam?”

Pyre sneered. “Scam. You call my little pet a scam?”

“Well, I’ll give you a point there. It seems you have a little more credibility than what I assumed. Anyway, the police are still looking for you. You shouldn’t have stolen my aunt’s retirement.”

Pyre shrugged. “Your aunt gave it to me willingly. And you just said I have some actual power. Now, I recommend you let me go.” He nodded his head toward the far horizon. “My rescuer’s appeared.”

Ryan looked up to see a small cloud, just a white wisp of condensation moving across the treetops toward them. He turned around to face Pyre.

“I’m not running. I’ve decided to try an experiment. Yesterday when that cloud came into the parking lot, it made a beeline for me, but two of my people were in its way.” He involuntarily shuddered. “I saw what it did to them.”

Pyre’s eyes widened when Ryan took out a knife and flipped it open. “Relax,” Ryan said. “I need you alive.” He quickly cut the one rope that bound Pyre to the car. “Now, stand up.”

Ryan roughly made his prisoner stand and walked him ahead to a spot of dirt bare of wreckage. “Now you just stay there and let’s see if it’s willing to go through you to get to me.”

Pyre spun about his face contorted with contempt. “Idiot! I’m its master! It is only interested in you.”

Ryan shrugged. “Yeah, I thought as much.” He reached in his hip pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “Thanks for the keys to your home. I figure that book you got in your study, the one you read to your so-called disciples might have some info on this thing.” Ryan looked up. The small cloud had cleared the treetops and was descending toward them. “Anyway, I know I can outrace it on my motorcycle. It’s not that fast. I’ll get to your home well before you and your pet. That is if you don't get eaten first.”

Pyre looked nervously up at the descending cloud. “Tell you what,” he said. “Let me go, and I’ll dispel it for you.”

Ryan shook his head in the negative, and Pyre quickly began to run. There was a loud bang, and Pyre fell to the ground, his right knee a bloody ruin.

Ryan slipped his Glock 43 back under his jacket into his waistband. “One of the people your cloud turned to bloody mist yesterday was my best friend. No deals.”

Looking up, the wisp of a cloud was now just twenty yards away. Ignoring Pyre’s screams, Ryan moved into position so the cloud would encounter the wizard first.

“Come and get me,” Ryan said calmly.

Fifteen minutes later, Ryan rode his motorcycle away from the junkyard. Behind him, a bloody stain was all the remained of cloud or wizard.

To Ryan’s relief, without Pyre the cloud dissipated, and Ryan sped toward the wizard’s home. His aunt told him Pyre’s grimoire was in Latin, a language he was unfamiliar with. Still, Ryan was a quick learner, and man-eating clouds could be a handy tool in the right hands as long as one didn’t stand between the cloud and the intended victim. And who knew what other interesting secrets waited to be revealed.

Ryan smiled to himself as he flew down the rural road.

Behind him, a small wisp of a cloud slowly followed.

Leviathan (Inktober, Thursday, October 1)

For Inktober, October 1, 2020. Prompt word: "fish." Tuckerization: Louis Williams

Leviathan

by Alan Loewen

“Looks like you don’t have your sea legs yet, Tristian,” Louis called from the bow.

His friend growled in response as he held onto the deck railing. “If you weren’t paying for this trip, I would have stayed at home. I’m just glad I’m keeping my breakfast down. It would help if the waves weren't so choppy.”

Louis laughed. “Admit it. You’re having the time of your life. Just stand with your legs further apart, and your knees bent. You don’t want to go overboard here, or you might end up as fish food.”

Louis had wanted to rent a yacht more massive than the 92-foot Viking, but he had to take what was available. The armored boat could still do 32 knots, and though it was small enough to feel the motion of the waves, it was suitable for the job. And Louis was determined to give Tristian a good time and stay safe on top of it.

He turned and shouted up at the bridge. “Captain, are we there yet?”

The captain gave a thumb up through the cockpit window and turned to speak to his two crew members. Five minutes later, the two men began dumping buckets of chum from the stern, staining the waves crimson in the boat's wake.

The yacht turned about in minutes and remained still with its engine idling. One of the crew members came forward. “Stand clear,” he said, “We’re raising the guns.”

There was a vibration Louis felt through his soles as two sets of sliding doors on the deck slid back and two guns armed with harpoons rose and locked into place. The five-foot-long titanium harpoons were each tipped with large blades designed to penetrate scales and flesh and stay imbedded.

The crewman mentioned Louis to stand behind one and motioned for Tristian to man the other. “Now,” the crewman said, “we play the waiting game.”

They did not wait for long.

Within ten minutes, the leviathan breached the surface of the water, the sunlight shining brightly off its armored back. Louis and Tristian both gasped at its sheer size, at least twice as long as the yacht.

“Ach!” the crewman said, “It’s a small one. Do you still want it?”

“Yes! Louis said, yelling in his excitement.

“Okay,” the crewman said. “Remember all the practice you had on land.” He slapped Tristian on the shoulder. “You’re going first. Remember to hit the tail end. He’ll instinctively dive. Mr. Williams, when he breaches again, you shoot, and then we’ll go for a spirited ride as he drags us along as he runs until he tires. Now here he comes.”

The creature broke the surface, red water sluicing from its jaws. There was a loud report as Tristian fired. The harpoon zipped through the air striking the fish in its side. Immediately, it dived.

“Stand back and let me reload,” the crewman said. “Mr. Williams, stand ready.”

However, the creature did not breach again. Instead, the line on Tristian’s harpoon went slack.

Louis’ jaw dropped at the sheer speed the line cut through the water toward the yacht. Urgently, he tried to scream that the beast was headed for them.

It never broke the surface but impacted the bow with a collision that sent the crewman and Tristian over the side. Only Louis’ iron grip on the gun’s triggers kept him stable. As if he stood far away, he heard himself scream, “Men overboard!”

The harpoon line cut through the water again as the creature swam away from the boat and then reversed as the great fish swam back to the yacht … and the men floundering in the water.

Louis tried to breathe normally, and the creature breached, straight for the two men in the water. For a moment, when the fish was only 20 yards away from the boat, Louis felt time suddenly stand still. He looked deep into its large, black eye behind its open jaws, a creation of silver scales, fangs, and hate.

He felt the gun shudder in his hands, and the harpoon impaled the large black eye.

An hour later, the boat headed back toward the harbor, the great fish lashed alongside. Down below, Tristian sat in dried clothes and lots of hot coffee while above, Louis stared at his prize.

He would not be able to take it back to Earth, of course. It’s sheer size notwithstanding, there were strict protocols about what could be transported between parallel universes. Still, he and Tristian would each receive a huge scale of the leviathan’s body sealed in Lucite as their trophy.

Louis smiled to himself. He heard there was one universe where he could hunt cosmic horrors with tanks.

He wondered if Tristian would be up for it.

Saturday, September 26, 2020

A Venture into Inktober

Because I don't have the brains of a mud stump and only half the common sense, I will be participating in Inktober.

I participated two years ago and ... well, let's just say I think I broke something in my head.

Anyway, these words are story prompts for each day, and with my schedule, it'll be flash fiction.

If you want tuckerized into a story, leave your name in the comments. And tuckerization means I use your name in the story. The character will not be you, just using your name.

And, no, volunteers cannot pick the word. I will assign those. As of this writing, I have randomly assigned 16 names to the first 16 words. I still have 15 openings.

Any takers?

Thursday, September 3, 2020

Paleomythic: Role-Playing in the Age of Stone and Sorcery

Role-playing games (also known as tabletop games or RPG's) have always been a favorite activity of mine, having played Dungeons and Dragons way back in the late '70s before it became cool. Since then I have branched out into Traveller and Call of Cthulhu with small asides to The Morrow Project and It Came From The Late, Late, Late Show.

Unfortunately, due to progressive hearing loss, my role-playing days have gone to the wayside much to the chagrin of the small cadre of faithful players I have accumulated over the years. Yet, that may soon all change.

Having been to an audiologist, I am in the process of getting hearing aids and my hope is that by the end of September/early October, I will have raised enough money ($7,000.00) to purchase them and end my exile from indulging in one of my favorite past times.

Recently I purchased a new RPG that came out of Osprey Publishing. Paleomythic: A Roleplaying Game of Stone and Sorcery is a beautifully illustrated, but bare-bones role-playing system, that emphasizes play and storytelling over rules. With a nod more toward Conan the Barbarian than Lord of the Rings, the advertising blurb for the book says:

Paleomythic is a roleplaying game of grim survival and mythical adventures in the land of Ancient Mu, a harsh prehistoric world full of mysterious ruins and temples to explore, huge and terrible creatures that roam and spread fear across the land, and nefarious mystics and sorcerers who plot dark schemes from the shadows. It is a world of biting cold winters, of people hunting and foraging to survive, and tribes that wage relentless war.

The game is clearly meant to be fantasy, but it does give a casual nod to archeology, especially the late Pleistocene era, about 12,000 years ago.

And as I work my way through the Paleomythic RPG book, I'm fascinated they missed one fascinating aspect of the time era they selected. In the late Pleistocene era, modern man (Homo sapiens) could theoretically have rubbed shoulders with "hobbits" (Homo floresiensis), and "dwarves" (Homo neanderthalensis) and if I can stretch the timetable a little, I can even introduce "orcs" (Homo erectus). I think this would have made J. R. R. Tolkien squeal with glee.

More and more I am becoming excited to be able to rejoin my role-playing gang and in our imaginations plumb the mystical and mythical worlds of the Pleistocene.