Wardens Chronicles

Current Campaign Date:  1/26/2008   

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Post-Session: 32

A look at what happened during and/or after Session 32.

Story - False Vision

Game Date: 8/29/2006
Location: San Francisco, California

Who: Prime

Prime grumbled as he stomped angrily into his lab. After several days of debate, Eon still simply refused to understand the danger the Knight's visions might pose. For pity's sake, the Knight believed he was receiving visions from God. Anyone who could transmit on the same interdimensional frequency as his visions could trick him into doing whatever their heart desired.

Prime paused. Perhaps that was it. The only way to show Eon the potential threat would be to send the Knight a false vision. Prime immediately began digging through his notes. Good thing most of the work had been done before. Code for the neural interface could be adapted to translate the message into a form interpretable by the Knight's brain. He'd already been experimenting with manipulating dimensional energy. He had also witnessed the Knight receiving 'divine messages' several times before. There would be a little guesswork regarding the exact frequency, but a broadband transmission should do the trick, particularly if he upped the power considerably. The surge of dimensional energy needed to power the device would burn it out within seconds, but he only needed to do it once as a demonstration. Thankfully, Prime could now serve as the battery to power the device.

Prime ducked into the backroom and began digging through his piles of accumulated junk and salvage, throwing together the device. With the pressing issue of the cloaked alien ship, he didn't have time to test this properly. He'd have to trust to luck. Besides, it wouldn't be the end of the world if the device failed to work. It'd just mean he'd have to try again later when he had more free time.

By the next day, he had the 'device' ready. Now, the problem was what to transmit. It'd have to be something obvious so the Knight would recognize it as a false vision. Prime snapped a quick digital photo of himself and went to work manipulating the image. Halo. Divine aura. Flaming sword. Ooooh, a shield studded with glowing cosmic crystals. Prime the Hand of God. Perfect. Hmmm, well, maybe a few more touches. He added in the background a fiery portal through which could be glimpsed horned and demon-tailed minions of the Grand Empire and rotated the image of Prime so it appeared that he was all that stood in the way of the advancing horde. Now that was biblical imagery! Prime considered the image for a moment, then at a whim, threw in some multi-colored winged Prime-angels as reinforcements. Niftiness.

Prime fed the modified image into the translating software. Hopefully, it would convert it into a form of communications that brains sensitive to a particular interdimensional frequency would be able to translate.

Prime puttered around innocently for about another hour until Dr. Alfonso Spheris had nodded off from the small dose of sedative that had been put in his tea.

With a grin, Prime placed one paw into the device's slot, and let loose with a blast of dimensional energy. One. Two. Three. Then, bamph.


The Northern California Mariner's Hospital was once a premier government-funded facility that took care of mentally ill seamen from the U.S. Merchant Marine, U.S. Coast Guard and U.S. Navy. But, decades earlier, federal funding had been cut and the facility had been forced to rely on dwindling private funding to keep even part of its mammoth facility operational.

Understaffed and under-funded, neglect spread like the creeping mold that clung to the walls of its abandoned buildings.

Deep within its depths, a lone man in a small padded room violently rants about an army of demonic flying monkeys poking at his brain with flaming swords before a tired orderly gives him an injection that makes everything go away. For a time...


At the Golden Hills Elementary School, a young child proudly holds up a picture of a winged monkey for her teacher.


In his small stone meditation chamber, Brother Parsons is deep in prayer when he is rocked by a vision of the apocalypse. Who knew it'd be so furry?


As expected, the device exploded. Thankfully, it was a very small contained explosion. Hardly a pop, really, and Prime's fingertips grew back after just a couple of minutes.

Now, to see if it worked. As Spheris frantically woke and started a peppershot of questions, Prime darted out into the hall and activated his communicator. "Hey, Knight. Did you by any change just experience another of those visions of yours?"

Sir William never took his eyes off the perpetrator of an attempted mugging as he replied, "The only vision I'm having now is the vision of an irresponsible youth attempting to take advantage of the weak. Excuse me." With that, he shield bashed the mugger to the pavement. He then had to shield the mugger against the hammer blows of his intended victim.

I never knew grocery bags could land such solid blows, thought Sir William. As he pleaded with the victim to stop, if only for the sake of the groceries she had paid such dear cash for.

Prime's shoulders sagged. A failed experiment. Perhaps the mechanism of the Knight's visions was different than he had theorized. It seemed logical. A portion of the Knight's brain sensitized to 'pick up' a narrow frequency of interdimensional energy that was being sporadically transmitted by beings in another dimension.

Then Prime relaxed. Perhaps the experiment had been useful. Perhaps it could be taken as evidence that transmitting false visions to the Knight would be more difficult that previously predicted. Either way, he didn't have any more time to fool with such sidetracks. There was an alien ship to capture and examine!

First, of course, there would be the explanations to Spheris...

Prime stepped back into the lab, "Ah. Mr. Spheris. No need for concern. It was simply a prototype of a communications device. We must find some way to breach that field of warped space to talk with whoever or whatever resides within, yes? This sidetrack failed to be fruitful, but there are other avenues to explore. Oh yes, we'll get this problem licked soon enough!"


The next morning Prime leaves his bed room, and in the main living area of his quarters finds a large spider web. Like something out of Charlotte's Web, worked into the web is writing.

The message reads:

"We would recommend that you not attempt to mess with things you are not familiar with. Trust us, we've dealt with HIM before and he can get real pissy."

Record Last Changed Date: 10/26/2008

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