MagiStream

Updates

6/6/15 Wow, it's been...awhile. I honestly forgotten I had even written this. I left MS the game for...reasons, but rereading this...I definitely want to continue it. I still have my world notes and I think I can reconstruct enough of my story plans to put this back in business.

10/31 Chapter Seventeen is up. A new perspective.

Introduction

The Chronicles of Ruin is a story inspired by and based in the MagiStream world. It is not a Keep story in the traditional sense, although of course The Keep is one of the central aspects of the plot. My version of the world is also a little less optimistic than most, so be warned. As per site rules it will stay in PG-13 territory of course, but for content warnings expect some occasional strong language, violence and suggestive themes, the latter being mostly in the realm of drug/alcohol use.

I have also taken some liberties with certain NPCs and some physical features of the world itself, mostly due to the dearth of information about anything beyond The Keep.

The Chronicles of Ruin
Book I
Table of Contents
Introduction (you are here)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen

Comments

I welcome all comments, questions and constructive criticism.

Chapter One

The Keeptown docks lay in a thick veil of mist, the incoming front of the unusually fierce spring storm that had chased their ship, the Teneran Lady, into the protection of the harbor. Ruin stepped onto the pier, suppressing a shiver. She'd forgotten how cold it could get here. It wasn't just that, though. There was an ominous sense of foreboding everywhere she looked, from the sullen faces of the dockhands to the subdued business of the fishmongers on the next pier.

"Terrible, isn't it?" The captain came to stand beside her, cigarette clenched between his teeth. "This town ain't what it used to be."

"What happened?"

He exhaled a thick cloud of smoke into the air, barely visible against the gray overcast. "No idea. Bad wind here." He made a warding gesture with one hand, his expression sour. "I suggest you find a place to put up for the night, less you fancy weathering the storm on the ship."

"I know a few places around, thanks."

He grunted. "Good ones, I hope. Luck to you, lady. I've a ship to attend to." He turned away, shouting orders to his crew with a voice hoarse from years of outshouting gales on the open sea.

"Thanks," she said to his back. A good man, to give her such a warning. He'd get an extra silver for that. But for now, best to get moving. If she was lucky she might even beat the rain. With a final glance back at the ship, a tough old hag as weathered as her captain, she left, heading for the dockside edge of the merchant's quarter and, if he hadn't gotten himself arrested again, an old friend.

~~~~~

Less than an hour later Ruin was wringing her sodden cloak out in the doorway of the Golden Koi. She scowled at the rain and swung the door shut with more force than was really necessary.

"'Ey! Be careful there, girly!" Ruin grinned, recognizing the voice. She turned around. The Koi hadn't changed at all since last she'd seen it. It was old but well maintained and as cluttered as ever, with trinkets and baubles adorning every table, counter and much of the walls. Hanging from the middle of the open ceiling over the staircase was an enormous golden koi statue, the namesake of the place. Part inn, part pub, part trading post and for her, the only home she cared to remember. And the man glaring at her from behind the bar, the closest thing she had to family.

"Nice to see you too, Sharpe," she replied.

His disposition changed instantly. With a whoop and a laugh he vaulted over the counter and across the room, crushing her in one of those bear hugs that was always so shocking, coming from such a wiry little scamp. "Ruin! Thank the Maker you're here. I was gettin' worried, you know. Two years and not a word, not a letter, not even a bird's fart in the wind."

"I'm glad you missed me Sharpe, but you wanna let go now? I can't breathe."

"Oh, sorry!" he let go and stepped back, just looking at her. "You've changed a lot," he said quietly, reaching up to touch her hair, or rather, what was left of it; she'd cut most of it off after an incident in Voltar of the type best left to imagination.

"And you haven't changed at all," she said, knowing it to be a lie. His banter was as cheerfully irreverent as usual but there was a tension in his face she didn't remember seeing before. "What's going on around here? The captain of the ship I came in on was pretty spooked, looked like he had more'n half a mind to turn back around and take his chances with the storm."

Sharpe abruptly stepped back. "Prolly better if he tells you," he said, nodding toward a table in the far corner. A hooded man sat there, fingers steepled over a mug. She felt his gaze on her but couldn't see his face. Something about him seemed oddly familiar.

"Who is he?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Go," he said, shooing her in that direction. "I'll get you a drink. Trust me, you'll need it." He bustled off, leaving her to confront the stranger. She glanced around, noting the lack of patrons. Unusual. It was just the three of them, then. Somehow that wasn't a comforting thought, even if she did trust Sharpe's instincts.

"So," she said, sitting down across from the stranger. "Sharpe tells me you've got something to do with whatever's making everyone so damn jumpy around here."

For a long moment he was silent, just enough to make her uncomfortable. "I have nothing to do with it," he said slowly, as though considering his words.

Well, two could play that game. She raised an eyebrow and stared at him, not even acknowledging Sharpe when he set a mug of her favorite ale down at her elbow. He'd forgive her; he knew the look when he saw it. And after less than a minute, so did the stranger. He leaned back in his chair and spoke again, his words heavy and bitter.

"I was involved, but not knowingly. When I discovered what was happening, I was stripped of everything I had and exiled." He turned back his hood, letting the shock of recognition sink in. "I am Belmos, former Master of the Keep."

Whoa, this is almost certainly the best magistream-set story I've read on here. The characters are amazingly real and well characterized at the end of one short chapter, and the hook at the end pretty much just guaranteed that I'll keep reading by making me curious while also giving a little hint as to just what is going on.

Kestrad wrote:Whoa, this is almost certainly the best magistream-set story I've read on here. The characters are amazingly real and well characterized at the end of one short chapter, and the hook at the end pretty much just guaranteed that I'll keep reading by making me curious while also giving a little hint as to just what is going on.

I have to agree with this.

The story is well written and I am very excited for more.

Kestrad: You are too kind. Thank you. I've been turning this particular story over in my mind for quite awhile now, so I'm pleased to know that it shows, at least a little.

Symie: Thanks! I'll try not to keep you waiting too long. In fact, here comes the next chapter.

Chapter Two

Well Sharpe was right about one thing, she wouldn't have believed him if he told her. One of the most prominent Magi in the entire world and he was here, sitting in a black market bar with the furtive air of a common street thief. She studied him, noting his unkempt, dirty blonde hair and ragged clothing. His face would have been handsome if it wasn't so pale and drawn, his blue eyes gray against the bags beneath them, dark as bruises.

"I guess even Magi can fall," she said finally. "What'd you do, kill the Archmagi?"

"If only I had," he hissed, eyes glittering with anger. "But," he admitted, subsiding after a moment, "it probably wouldn't have changed anything. No, Thane is the one who exiled me. Actually, I'm surprised he didn't kill me outright. I've often wondered why he didn't."

"Maybe he's sentimental?"

He gave her a sour look. "This is a very serious matter, you know. If the Order succeeds, the world will cease to exist as we know it."

Now that was a pretty grandiose claim. In her experience Magi were arrogant, but this verged on hyperbolic. She took another drink and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.

"And you're telling me this so easily. Why? You don't know me and frankly, I don't care to know you. I've had more than enough of you lot to last me several lifetimes."

He looked pained at that, though he tried not to show it. He was probably terrible at cards, too. She stifled a smirk. It would be rude to laugh in his face, especially since he was so earnest about this whole thing. If she had a copper for every time someone told her the Magi were up to no good...She took a quick drink to mask the inappropriate direction of her thoughts while he continued on, oblivious.

"It's not easy for me to say this, but I've come to the realization that I can't handle this matter on my own. Your brother told me about you. Said you never turn down a challenge. Or gold."

Ruin gave Sharpe a sidelong glance. He shrugged apologetically. "I might've been a little, ah, drunk."

"I hadn't known you were out of town but since you're here, I'm asking." He reached into his pocket, pulling out a cloth bag and thumping it onto the table. The unmistakable clinking of coins was substantial. "Here. A down payment. When we put a stop to this and I get my life back I can offer significantly more. What do you say?"

Ruin looked from the bag to Belmos to Sharpe, then back to Belmos. He stared back at her, his expression unreadable. It was true, she did need the money, but still. Magi, conspiracy theories and more than a touch of the arcane, and she still didn't even know exactly what was going on yet. Only a fool would accept such an offer. Ruin was many things, but fool was not one of them. She stood abruptly.

"He's not my brother. And I don't have a deathwish. I'm sorry. I can't help you." She reached for her cloak, draped negligently over the back of her chair. "I won't turn you in, either."

She spun around to leave and found Sharpe blocking her path. She scowled at him. He held up his hand, a placating gesture. "Ruin, please." Sharpe shifted uneasily. "I know you've never liked Magi much but this isn't like you. At least tell me why."

"My concerns are my own and no one else's. I'll send you a pigeon when I reach the next port. Good bye, Sharpe."

She pushed past him, ignoring the stab of regret when he made no effort to pull her back. What had once been home suddenly felt cold and empty, like everything else. The only sounds were the pounding of the rain and her own boots, the latter an accusation to her ears. When had she become so numb? Thunder rumbled as though echoing her thoughts.

A flicker outside the window next to the door caught her eye. A lamp? That was odd. Between the rain and the wind nothing could stay lit like that. She paused, feeling the hair raise on the back of her neck. A faint, telltale pull in the back of her mind warned her. The thunder came again and then she knew it wasn't thunder at all. With a sudden chill she recognized the sound, she'd heard it once before. She backed away as the outline of something huge filled the pane, fogging it with another growling exhalation.

"Run!" she yelled and threw herself backward, landing hard on her back on the floor as a nightmare came crashing through the window.

Chapter Three

The hellhound landed where Ruin had been only moments before. Steam rose from its back, filling the Koi with the truly vile combination of brimstone and wet dog. The hot vapor was both blinding and choking, forcing Ruin back to the dubious safety of refuge behind the bar counter. She hadn't seen him move but Sharpe crouched there as well, hand over his mouth. A mix of horror and disgust twisted his normally unshakeable cheer, not that she blamed him. She'd had the same reaction the first time she'd smelled one, too.

"Where's Belmos?" she whispered, peeking around the corner. The hellhound hadn't moved yet. She could see a vague, dog-shaped shadow in the fog, heard it sniffing and growling. Fortunately, it was as blind as they were in the veil of steam. They'd be safe for a minute or two.

"Dunno," Sharpe said. "I think he's still over in the corner. What do we do?"

"We do nothing," she said.

"What?"

"You stay here. When you see your chance, run for it. I'll get him."

"Are you crazy? That thing will kill you!" He grabbed her arm, forcing her to look at him. "A minute ago you didn't want to get involved, now you want to save his life?"

"You haven't seen what hellhounds do to their prey," she said grimly, shaking him off. "Quiet, the fog's clearing. Get ready."

Ruin crouched and slowly, carefully drew her twin short swords from the cross sheath buckled around her lower back. She closed her eyes for a moment, centering herself. The current in the back of her mind ran still and clear, ready should she need to draw upon it. A faint stirring, the merest ripple, assured her of that.

Just as it cleared enough for her to see It, the hellhound's head snapped up, looking not at her but at the corner where Belmos had been sitting. Its hackles raised, ears lying flat against its skull. Time's up. With a vicious snarl the hellhound bounded forward, claws tearing furrows into the floor.

Ruin vaulted over the counter, blades at the ready, sprinting at an angle across the room to intercept the monstrous creature. She got there just in time, catching its gaping jaws on her crossed blades. The impact slammed her backward, her hip catching the edge of the table in a burst of pain. She swore and pushed back, finally stopping its charge. Belmos was indeed there, having taken cover beneath the table. She caught a glimpse of him, wild-eyed, as she fought with the hellhound for ground. And air; the thing smelled ten times worse up close. She tried not to choke when she caught a whiff of its breath.

"Go," she growled at the magi through clenched teeth. She could feel herself starting to slip and it wasn't just from the hot saliva coating her swords, dripping down her arms and pooling on the floor at her feet. "The bar. Sharpe. I'll follow."

He scrambled up, took a step, then turned back, hesitating.

"Go!"

The hellhound's eyes, candle-flame yellow, followed Belmos' movements as the magi retreated. Then its gaze swung back, locking onto hers. Shit. It pulled back suddenly, knocking her off-balance. She tucked her head down and rolled as the hound leaped over her and spun around, furniture, glass and candles flying as it crashed its way through the room, a one-dog wrecking crew.

Ruin leaped to her feet, staggering as her hip screamed in protest from the strain. She gritted her teeth and reached for the stream, feeling it cool the pain to a dull throb. Not good. There was no room to maneuver in such a small, cluttered space. They had to get out. Now.

She reached for the stream again, letting the power build up like a dam. The air cleared instantly as all the moisture in the air was sucked in, forming a roiling sphere in front of her. It began to hiss as she compressed it further, building up the pressure as she fed it more power. Brute force wasn't pretty, but it was effective.

Just as the hound reached the counter Ruin used her hand as a guide and threw the sphere at it, unleashing the dammed up power at the same time. It exploded against the hellhound's side, sending it crashing to the floor with a strangled yelp.

"C'mon!" She yelled across to Sharpe and Belmos, both of them staring at her with shocked, pale faces. "That won't hold it for long. Let's go!"

It was already snarling and starting to rise when she slammed the door behind them.

Chapter Four

"This way," Ruin said, ducking down the nearest alley. The rain was still heavy, making it hard to see, but she knew this part of town so well she didn't need to. They cut across a main road and into a series of narrow, twisting sidestreets and alleys in a dizzying, frantic flight. She didn't have a destination in mind, just putting distance between them and the monster behind them. With luck, her spell and the rain would keep it at bay, for awhile at least. She hoped.

"Ruin wait," Sharpe gasped. She stopped, leaning against the warehouse they'd been running alongside while Sharpe doubled over, coughing and hacking. "Gettin' too old for this crap, girly," he said, when he could talk again. He straightened, wincing.

"Maybe you should avoid getting involved with magi then," she snapped, instantly regretting it. It wasn't his fault, after all. She turned away to find Belmos regarding her, eyes narrowed.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Not a magi," she growled, shifting her gaze to the street behind them. In the not-far-enough distance, a primal howl pierced the sounds of the storm. And more chilling, a moment later it was answered. The second hound was even closer. They all flinched.

"We don't have time for this. Sharpe, go find somewhere safe to hole up and just lie low for awhile. It's not after you."

"You sure 'bout that? I can help."

"I can't ask you to risk more than you already have. Besides, I need eyes and ears on the outside, yeah?"

"Oh, of course!" Sharpe grinned, relief writ plain across his face. He sketched her a bow, his humor returning. "I know a lady or two who would welcome an old friend on a stormy night, with a tale of grand terror and the burnin' need for a drink and some…comforting." He winked and with a quick glance around, slipped off into the night.

Ruin couldn't help but smile, shaking her head. He was incorrigible.

"A bit crude, that one," Belmos muttered.

Ruin glanced at him sidelong. "You don't get out much, do you?"

"What?"

"Never mind." She peered around the corner of the warehouse, making sure it was clear before turning to Belmos again. "Can you fight?"

He was paler than ever, even in the dark. "Not as I am now."

"Great." She tightened her grip on her blades. The beginnings of a tension headache pounded at her temples. One hound was bad enough, but two? Whoever was hunting him was deadly serious. And on top of that, she'd attacked one of them. Like it or not, she was involved. Well, first things first. She tucked one blade into her belt and held out her hand, palm up. Belmos looked at her blankly. "I'll take the job."

I like the story. Hard to find anything to criticise, except for the fact that your chapters seem really short. I hardly even need to scroll down.

Thank you for commenting! My chapters are short to make them easier to read and so I can get new ones up quickly. Later chapters will undoubtedly be longer once all the conspiracy bits start coming into play.

Ah, I see.
Conspiracy, you say? Me likey likey. xD